《Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day》


 Chapter 1: Heir For A Day

    Chapter 1: Heir For A Day


    The continent of Westeros.


    Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters and wives, Queen Visenya and Queen Rhaenys, have brought the Seven Kingdoms under their rule.


    The continent is united.


    From Aegon''s ascension to the throne, each year is referred to as the first year of Aegon, marked 1AC.


    Years before the unification are designated BC, while those after are designated AC.


    ...


    Year 111 AC.


    Early summer, early morning.


    The capital of Westeros, King''s Landing.On the east side of the Red Keep, the Wall meets the coast.


    Inside the walls is a secluded garden, off limits to foreign dignitaries.


    A boy of five or six, with silver-blonde hair and purple eyes, sat leaning against a thick tree, muttering listlessly.


    "Another nightmare, never ending."


    His name was Rhaegar Targaryen, the true heir to the dragon bloodline.


    His father, Viserys Targaryen, rules from the Iron Throne.


    "Your Grace Rhaegar, your birthday celebration is about to begin and the queen calls for you."


    An attendant approached and gently reminded the young prince.


    Rhaegar raised his head, his face pale, dark circles under his mncholy eyes.


    "I''ve said it before, I don''t care for birthday parties."


    The servant sped her hands and tried to smile. "My apologies, Your Highness, but the Queen insists on your presence."


    "I understand. I''ll go."


    Rhaegar nodded, rose from his seat, and followed the servant into the Red Keep.


    He was the first-born son of King Viserys.


    His mother, thete Queen Aemma Arryn, died in childbirth.


    His birthday coincided with the anniversary of his mother''s death.


    So...


    I am truly grateful to Queen Alicent Hightower formemorating my birthday each year.


    The interior of the Red Keep was grand and solemn.


    When they reached a certain room on the upper floor, a child''s cries emanated from within.


    Rhaegar motioned for the servants to leave and approached the open door.


    Inside, a beautiful young woman in resplendent attire cradled a crying infant, while another child eyed the cake on the floor.


    When Alicent caught sight of Rhaegar, she turned apologetically. "Aegon craves cake. If you don''t join us, I''m afraid I won''t be able to appease him."


    (Note: In Westeros, naming conventions often honor ancestors.)


    Rhaegar entered the room. "No problem. Let him eat all he wants. How much harm can cake do?"


    "You''re such a good brother, Rhaegar."


    Alicent handed Aegon to him. The servant at her side led him to a low table.


    She spoke tenderly, "Your father is busy with affairs of state, and Rhaenyra has ventured out for leisure. This year, I will oversee your birthday."


    "Let us blow out the candles and make a wish first."


    Rhaegar remained silent.


    They blew out the birthday candles together, sped their hands, and closed their eyes.


    gued by failing health, Rhaegar was reserved and rarely spoke.


    Born after a difficultbor, his mother Aemma underwent a cesarean section, leaving him with a fragile constitution.


    Before the age of three, he had only cried at birth.


    The rest of his days were spent in aa, nourished only by human milk.


    It was once believed by the court that he wouldn''t survive the "next day.


    Thus, he earned the nickname "One-Day Heir".


    Miraculously, he defied the odds and lived.


    At the age of three, he emerged from hisa under the care of an alien witch.


    However, his health remained precarious.


    He also suffered from frequent nightmares filled with eerie and fragmented imagery-dragons, fire, war...all harrowing.


    These night terrors exacerbated his frailty and prolonged his mental anguish.


    "I want to eat. Give it to me now!"


    Aegon''s sudden demand startled Rhaegar.


    With a quick motion, Aegon plunged his hand into the cake, sending crumbs flying.


    A dollop of cream sttered in Rhaegar''s face.


    "Oh, gods! Keep an eye on Aegon!"


    Alicent scolded the servant for neglecting her duties, then wiped Rhaegar''s face with a handkerchief.


    "I sincerely apologize. Aegon can be quite mischievous. If you do not like the cake, I can summon the kitchen to prepare a fresh one."


    Rhaegar, appreciating the queen''s gesture, replied calmly, "It''s no trouble. My brother likes it, so we''ll share a piece."


    Alicent watched Rhaegar''s calm demeanor, then nced at the cake being devoured by Aegon.


    A pang of warmth fluttered through her heart.


    Fortunately, their exchange was interrupted.


    "Your Majesty, the king wishes to discuss your hunting ns and requests your presence."


    A knight, d in silver armor and white robes, strode to the door, his expression grave.


    He was a member of the Kingsguard, sworn to protect the King and obey his everymand.


    "Very well, I will go."


    Alicent cast an apologetic nce at Rhaegar before addressing him softly, "Your father summons me. I must leave at once. If there are any gifts you wish, let me know now."


    "No."


    Rhaegar''s answer was short.


    His mind wandered briefly. "If it''s possible, I''d like to reduce my medication. It''s quite painful."


    Alicent forced a smile. "That decision is up to your father."


    With that, she left with the knight.


    Before she left, she instructed the servants to keep an eye on the young princes and princesses and to avoid overindulgence.


    As Alicent left, Helena, Queen Alicent''s two-year-old daughter, who was sitting nearby, picked up cake crumbs and gazed absentmindedly out the window.


    She muttered, "Do not disturb the sleeping beast.


    Rhaegar watched her with curiosity.


    Hena and he had little interaction.


    ording to the guards, Hena exhibited strange behavior, often lost in her own world, muttering nonsensical phrases in a dreamy manner.


    It seemed the attendants were right.


    After Alicent left, Rhaegar turned his attention to Aegon, who was engrossed in his feast.


    "Do you enjoy eating so much?"


    Rhaegar approached Aegon, his tone soft.


    Without acknowledging him, Aegon picked up a piece of butter and handed it to Helena, then resumed eating.


    Watching, Rhaegar''s lips curled into a smile. "A generous brother, sharing his pie. Perhaps he deserves a reward."


    "What?"


    Aegon''s eyes widened innocently at the mention of a reward.


    "Eat as much as you like. I''ll give it to you."


    Rhaegar reached out, ruffled Aegon''s hair, and pressed his head down on the table, ttening the cake.


    Thud.


    Aegon''s face collided with the creamy confection, drawing gasps from the servants.


    Meanwhile, Hena watched in fascination, licking cream from her fingers.


    Rhaegar released Aegon and approached Hena.


    He stroked her silver hair gently.


    "Your Grace Rhaegar, please refrain. The queen will be displeased."


    The servant, nervous, wiped Aegon''s hands and begged Rhaegar not to upset the little princess.


    Ignoring her, Rhaegar continued to stroke Helena''s head.


    "You must learn to fend for yourself. Do not ept scraps or charity."


    "Brother, hee hee~"


    Hena giggled and pped her hands at Aegon, who now wore butter for a crown.


    "Foolish."


    Rhaegar withdrew his hand, leaving the cream untouched, and left the room.


    (*Important note*


    In the original lore, the one day heir prince was named Baelon, in honor of Viserys'' father.


    However, the author disliked the name Baelon and chose Rhaegar, inspired by Prince Rhaegar in Game of Thrones.)

 Chapter 2: Balerion’s Skull

    Chapter 2: Balerion��s Skull


    After leaving the room, Rhaegar dismissed the servants following him and descended the stairs alone.


    He seemed a little anxious.


    Who wouldn''t be afraid of confronting the queen''s son?


    Of course, he wasn''t afraid.


    Just as he was blowing out the candles, he heard a voice.


    "The explorer system has been sessfully loaded. Please search for lost treasures."


    Rhaegar thought it was a residual effect of his nightmare.


    But when he opened his eyes, he saw not only Aegon''s cream attack, but also a peculiar panel.


    [Rhaegar Targaryen]Talent: Dreamer (Gold)


    Bloodline: Old Valyrian Dragon King (5%)


    Skills: Literature (Elementary), History (Elementary)


    Relics: None


    Evaluation: "Weak human child. The boy will surely die before the age of ten. It is a pity that he possesses such a valuable talent."


    A simple and concise panel depicting Rhaegar''s personal status.


    Rhaegar was stunned, confused, then epting...


    In the brief moment it took to wipe off the cream, he gathered his thoughts and was thrilled by the appearance of the system.


    During the three years of nightmares, he had dreamed of many things, including fragments of an unknown continent - green-skinned snakes, towering steel dragons, skyscrapers...


    He had some recollection of the term "system".


    It seemed to be a tool to help underachievers in theireback - a perfect fit for him, a pitiful, weak and helpless human cub.


    Despite his jubtion, he couldn''t resist rewarding his dear brother Aegon.


    Hopefully he would appreciate it.


    ...


    "Explorers, relics..."


    "With the system''s memory, it''s obvious I should be looking for ancient and valuable artifacts."


    Rhaegar analyzed logically, his young face remarkably serious.


    As he left the room, he thought about all things old and valuable.


    Walking through the bustling halls of the Red Keep, Rhaegar came to an empty chamber containing a statue of the Virgin.


    In the center of the chamber was a circr stone tform bearing an enormous dragon''s skull.


    This was the skull of Balerion the ck Dread, the dragon of Aegon the Conqueror.


    Balerion was a legendary creature.


    The Targaryen family traveled from ancient Valyria, apanied by a fleet, with Balerion at their side.


    When Aegon came of age, Balerion helped him conquer the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.


    After Aegon''s death, his descendants continued to ride and use Balerion.


    It was not until Balerion was over 200 years old, during the reign of Viserys, that he was finally tamed.


    The dragon that once roamed Westeros, carrying Viserys high above King''s Landing three times, made itsst public appearance.


    Soon after, Balerion died.


    At over 200 years old, Balerion reached the natural limit of a dragon''s lifespan and sumbed to old age.


    In honor of this remarkable dragon, the Targaryens ced his skull in the Great Hall of the Red Keep, where it would be revered by future generations.


    Rhaegar gazed at the massive dragon skull before him, unable to imagine anything older or more precious.


    "Balerion, thank you for your service to House Targaryen. Please help me once more."


    Rhaegar prayed silently before the altar, his eyes full of hope.


    Stepping onto a stool, Rhaegar climbed up onto the tform, more than a meter high.


    He reached out to touch the jagged dragon teeth of the skull, each one bigger and thicker than he was.


    Carefully, Rhaegar entered the skull from behind, running his small hands over the pale bones.


    "This mission of exploration has begun, the target is the skull of Balerion, the ck Dread."


    Suddenly, the system prompted, starting Rhaegar, who looked around nervously.


    ying recklessly was frowned upon.


    He was only a child and feared that his secret would be discovered.


    Fortunately, there were few visitors in the main hall.


    Rhaegar breathed a sigh of relief as a tablet materialized before his eyes.


    [Balerion''s Skull]


    Exploration progress: 0.2%


    "What does that mean?"


    Rhaegar withdrew his hand and the tablet changed.


    [Balerion''s Skull]


    Research progress: 0.2% (Paused)


    "Do I need physical contact to explore the relics?"


    Rhaegar suddenly realized and touched the skull again.


    Sure enough, the research progress resumed its ascent.


    "I understand now. Patience is the key."


    Rhaegar sat down and leaned against the skull, asionally touching it with his face and feet.


    His frailty left him breathless after a few steps.


    Only his adrenaline-fueled excitement allowed him to explore Balerion''s skull that day.


    As dusk fell and the sun dipped below the horizon, a voice roused Rhaegar from his slumber.


    "This exploration is over. Please recover the lost treasures."


    Rhaegar rubbed his sleepy eyes as the system panel reappeared.


    [Balerion''s Skull]


    Exploration Progress: 100%


    "It''s finished. What treasure awaits?"


    Rhaegar perked up as he studied the panel, which disyed only two lines of text.


    Puzzled, he remembered the word "retrieve" from the previous prompt.


    He stood up and surveyed his surroundings.


    A crimson halo the size of a watermelon hovered over the closed jaws of the dragon skull.


    Intrigued, Rhaegar approached and reached out to touch it tentatively.


    With a soft pop, akin to the bursting of a bubble, the red halo exploded, transforming into a flurry of red points of light that danced into his hand like fireworks.


    "The relic has been sessfully retrieved and testing is underway..."


    "Testingpleted. It has been identified as a legendary relic, the Dragon''s Legacy."


    "Legendary level. It seems I''ve struck gold."


    Rhaegar murmured softly, conjuring an image of a dragon scale in his mind.


    With a thought, the dragon scale materialized in his hand.


    This particr scale was all ck, scarred, and norger than an adult''s palm.


    "A dragon scale. How do I use it?"


    As he examined the scale, the font on the system panel changed.


    "Blood and fire have amon origin. To im the dragon''s legacy, one must possess true dragon blood."


    "Blood and fire share amon origin..."


    He had an epiphany.


    Since dragons were synonymous with fire, the activation must involve blood.


    But not just any blood - true dragon blood.


    Rhaegar grinned.


    He might not be a dragon, but he was a true Targaryen.


    Clutching the dragon''s scale in one hand, he drew the other close to its sharp edge.


    Gritting his teeth, he dered, "Let it be done.


    With a sharp sting, the dragon scale pierced his thumb, drawing blood.


    The scale, now stained crimson, glowed a fiery red.


    "Congrattions, the dragon''s legacy has been activated, and you have received..."


    [Blood and Fire]


    Tier: Legendary (Red)


    Effect: Fire Resistance +50%.


    Evaluation: "True dragons do not fear fire, and the Targaryens are no exception."


    The dragon scale crumbled into dust, carried away by the wind.


    Before Rhaegar could react, a flush appeared on his pale face and his skin gradually warmed.


    The sensation was not unpleasant.


    It was like snuggling under nkets next to a warm hearth on a winter''s night.


    His body was filled with warmth.


    As quickly as it came, the sensation vanished.


    Rhaegar''s skin grew smoother and his once paleplexion improved.


    At least he no longer resembled a frail invalid on the verge of death.


    He looked more like someone recovering from a serious illness.


    "Increased fire resistance - what a remarkable ability."


    He approached the edge of the altar, where candles were arranged in a circle.


    Lighting a candle, Rhaegar pressed his hand to the me.


    Better to test than to specte blindly.


    At first he felt warmth from the me.


    But as time passed, the warmth intensified, eventually giving way to a burning sensation.


    A drop of melted wax sttered on his hand, causing him to flinch slightly.


    Blowing out the candle, Rhaegar now understood the purpose of fire resistance.


    "While fire still hurts, the damage is greatly reduced."

 Chapter 3: The Realms Delight

    Chapter 3: The Realm''s Delight


    [Rhaegar Targaryen]


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold)


    Bloodline: Dragonlord of Old Valyria (+8%)


    Skills: Literature (Elementary), History (Elementary)


    Relic: Blood and Fire (Fire Resistance +50%)


    Evaluation: "The ancient bloodline is showing signs of resurgence. With a bit of luck, you might be able to escape this predicament."


    He studied the panel, pondering quietly.


    Bloodline, Relics, and Evaluation - all had shifted on the disy.


    "Ancient bloodline..."Rhaegar murmured to himself, "Could the origin of blood and fire awaken the true dragon blood?"


    "Forget it. There''s no use thinking about things I can''t understand. Better to continue searching for the lost treasures."


    His body felt light. To test it, Rhaegar tried to jump off the altar and seeded.


    "Explorer, you will cure my weakness."


    Excited, Rhaegar raised an eyebrow, secretly enjoying his adventure.


    But the excitement did not cloud his judgment.


    The young prince needed his rest.


    As they left the hall, the darkness of the night enveloped them. Servants lit oilmps along the walls of the Red Keep, casting a soft glow.


    Unnoticed by anyone, Rhaegar made his swift return home.


    Crunch!


    Pushing open the door, he entered the dimly lit room, bathed in moonlight that filtered through the stained ss window, casting a soft halo.


    "Who goes there?"


    He asked sternly, standing at the door, his eyes fixed on the figure at the window.


    An ambush in his chambers at night - did someone mean him harm?


    "It''s me, Rhaegar."


    The figure turned, illuminated by the moon, revealing a girl in a narrow leather skirt.


    With silver-gold hair.


    The girl faced him and shrugged. "Really? You can''t recognize your own sister just because I missed your birthday party?"


    "Rhaenyra, what are you doing in my room?"


    Relieved to see the girl''s face clearly, Rhaegar''s eyes sparkled with joy.


    The girl was his blood sister, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne.


    The Realm''s Delight- Princess Rhaenyra.


    Leaning against the window, Rhaenyra studied his pale face withplex eyes, a hint of pity fleeting across her features.


    Averting her gaze, she hesitated before speaking, "Today is your birthday. As your sister, I felt obligated to pay you a visit."


    Rhaegar smiled warmly, "Sister, I''m d you came."


    "But I''m not one for birthday parties, you know," Rhaenyra sighed, "I visited Mother this morning and came to see you this afternoon."


    "Did you eat?"


    His question surprised Rhaenyra.


    "I had a piece of bread this morning, but nothing since..."


    "So you haven''t eaten," Rhaegar interjected, getting up to rummage through a drawer by the bed.


    "What are you looking for?" Rhaenyra asked, confused.


    "Don''t worry, I''ve got something." With that, Rhaegar pulled a package of cookies out of the drawer.


    Handing one to Rhaenyra, he hung a kettle of cold tea over the firece and lit the coals.


    "The Red Keep''s proximity to the coast makes it perpetually damp and cold, regardless of the season."


    Taking a casual seat by the fire, Rhaegar patted the seat across from him and invited Rhaenyra to join him.


    "How have you beentely? Still haunted by nightmares?"


    epting her brother''s kindness, Rhaenyra opened the packet of cookies and helped herself, drawing warmth from the fire.


    "Give me one. I haven''t had mine yet."


    He snatched the second cookie she reached for and joked, "Nightmares seem to be my constantpanions. I''ve gotten used to them."


    "Where have you been? You haven''t eaten either?"


    Rhaenyra''s curiosity was tinged with concern, "The Grand Maester mentioned that you''ve been refusing your medicely. Father and I are worried about you."


    "Just wandering around. My body knows how to handle the medicine. It''s only a matter of time before it gets better, but I believe it will be soon."


    He defended, changing the subject, "Tell me, what else is on your mind?"


    Rhaenyra replied ufortably, "We''re talking about you."


    "But every time youe here you end upining to me," Rhaegar nibbled on his biscuit, "Dear sister, I''m used to it. Consider me your confidant."


    "Bastard."


    Rhaenyra snorted.


    "It''s not just a political game. These ministers think a woman isn''t fit to sit on the Iron Throne. They want to undermine me and strengthen Father''s rule in favor of a more pliable candidate."


    "Father loves you deeply, sister."


    Rhaegar couldn''t imagine King Viserys harming his daughter based on the opinions of his ministers.


    "Not at all!"


    Rhaenyra retorted sharply.


    Rhaegar was taken aback and looked at her sardonically.


    "I''m sorry, I didn''t mean tosh out at gossip all by myself."


    Realizing her outburst, Rhaenyra reached out to touch her brother''s head and lowered her voice, "Father intends to marry me off to someone powerful who can help him, a political alliance to strengthen his rule. But it feels like... like..."


    "Like being sold as amodity?" Rhaegar articted her thoughts.


    "Rhaegar, my brother."


    Her words betrayed her inner turmoil, her eyes turning red as she sped her brother''s hand helplessly.


    Since her mother''s death, her father''s subsequent remarriage to her best friend, and Uncle Daemon''s exile from King''s Landing, she had no one to confide in.


    Aside from riding dragons and soaring through the skies, she felt like a lonely ghost in the vast Red Keep.


    No one really listened to her. No one really supported her.


    Rhaenyra squeezed her brother''s slender hand, "If it weren''t for you, I don''t know who would care for me if the Stranger took you away."


    Rhaegar shook his head, "Don''t think like that, sister."


    "Father hasn''t reced you. Being the heir means he still cares for you."


    "The rumors outside don''t just affect you; they also weigh heavily on Father, who shields you from the storm."


    Rhaenyra lowered her eyes, "But I don''t want to marry those treacherous men. Well-meaning vultures who seek to devour my flesh and blood."


    "If you''re unwilling, perhaps I can speak to Father. Maybe he''ll reconsider because of our strong sibling bond."


    An idea suddenly came to him, and he did his best tofort his sister.


    "But..."


    Rhaenyra hesitated, unable to articte her concern.


    Bitterness crept into Rhaegar''s tone, "I know that whenever Father sees his son on the brink of death, he''s reminded of Mother and sinks into deep self-me and guilt."


    "He avoids me, afraid he can''t bear to lose me one day." He sighed.


    "But I am Rhaegar Targaryen. I belong to the skies and the seas; I can''t be locked in the Red Keep forever."


    Rhaegar looked at his sister expectantly, determination etched on his face.


    Moved by her brother''s hopeful words, Rhaenyra felt the same stirrings within.


    Bound by her father''s grip and enmeshed in the web of power, the girl agreed without much thought, "All right, I''ll take you to Father tomorrow. He should fulfill his responsibilities as a father."


    A smile spread across Rhaegar''s youthful face, and he nestled into Rhaenyra''s somewhat meager bosom, rubbing it affectionately. "Sister, this is the birthday present I want."


    Forget fancy cakes and borate festivities.


    All he longed for was the love of his kin.


    It was not a selfish wish.


    Rhaenyra hugged her brother, her chin resting on his bony shoulder, her eyes reflecting confusion and helplessness.


    After a long silence, she said regretfully, "Oh, how I wish you had a healthy body..."


    "It would ay everyone''s fears and protect me."


    "Until the Stranger takes me away, I''ll stay by your side. Always, sister."


    Feeling the warmth of her embrace, he replied in a muffled voice.


    When he was young, the only people in the world were his father Viserys and his sister Rhaenyra.


    He didn''t want anything to happen to these two beloved rtives.

 Chapter 4: Request for Aid from the Stepstones Islands

    Chapter 4: Request for Aid from the Stepstones Inds


    The next day dawned with the first rays of sunlight on the Red Keep, signaling the start of another busy day for the servants.


    After their customary breakfast of milk and bread, Rhaegar and Rhaenyra made their way directly to the council chamber.


    The servants and knights along the way dared not impede them, allowing them to pass unhindered.


    Upon entering the great council hall, they were greeted by a lively scene.


    King Viserys, in his thirties, wore a broad smile as he chatted amiably with several ministers.


    Known for his tolerance and mercy, Viserys greeted everyone with a smile.


    "Rhaenyra, we were just discussing the Kingswood hunt. You''re just in time," Viserys remarked as Rhaenyra entered the hall, immediately catching his attention and inviting her to join the discussion.


    "Father, do you remember me?" Rhaegar interjected, holding his sister''s hand and looking at his father with mncholy eyes.


    "Oh, Rhaegar, why is your sister dragging you around?" Viserys eximed, his eyes widening as he saw the thin figure at the door. He immediately rose from his seat."Your Grace."


    The king left his seat, prompting the other ministers to rise and greet Rhaegar. After all, he was the king''s eldest son, born into the privilege of being respected. Had the frail prince notpsed into aa at birth, Rhaenyra would not have been the heir.


    Surveying the ministers, Rhaegar gestured for them to rx and offered a gentle smile.


    The disy momentarily distracted the ministers. Indeed, Prince Rhaegar seemed cast in the same mold as King Viserys, exuding calm and kindness.


    As Rhaenyra and her brother made their way, she exined, "Yesterday was Rhaegar''s birthday. Neither of us were there. He wanted toe and see father."


    Moved by her words, Viserys hurried over and knelt before his children. "I''m sorry, son. As king, I always have a mountain of work. I hope you don''t me me," he said ruefully.


    Rhaegar and Viserys met eye to eye, their smiles intact as they exchanged a look. Rhaegar, feigning annoyance, interjected quietly,


    "It''s all right. How could I me my king? I just wanted to see my father as a son."


    Since you use your royal status to evade responsibility, I''ll do the same and appeal to your conscience.


    As expected, Viserys'' expression softened with a hint of guilt. He lowered his gaze and reached out to touch Rhaegar''s pale face. "As you grow, you resemble your mother more and more," he remarked with a mix of emotions.


    "Perhaps. I just hope my father doesn''t forget me and leave me behind in my lifetime," Rhaegar added, continuing to pluck at Viserys'' wounded heart.


    No longer a three-year-old, he knew the power of his words and how to evoke emotion.


    Viserys felt a slight trembling in his hands, noticing especially the frail appearance of his eldest son. It was as if his heart was being hammered.


    Taking a deep breath, Viserys rose, lifted Rhaegar and settled back into his seat. He ruffled his son''s silver hair and said, "You never took the initiative to see me. Can I make it up to you as a father?"


    During the exchange, Viserys nced discreetly at Rhaenyra, curious about their intentions.


    Rhaegar shook his head gently and leaned into his father''s embrace. "No."


    The fewer words spoken, the fewer mistakes made. He who strikes first in the hunt bes the prey.


    Viserys smiled and turned his attention to Rhaenyra. "Why was I unaware of the strong bond between you two?" he asked.


    "He''s my brother, closer than Aegon," Rhaenyra replied curtly, her voice choked with emotion.


    Viserys'' smile faltered as he avoided further engagement with his thorny daughter. Instead, he turned to the ministers, disying the magnanimity of a king. "Today Rhaegar is granted special permission to attend the political discussions. Where were we?"


    "There are some minor matters. There''s no harm in the prince listening in," Lyman Beesbury, Master of Coins and Treasurer, chimed in, agreeing.


    Rhaegar watched him - an older man with ck and white hair, his demeanor friendly and approachable. Rhaegar caught Lyman''s nod of acknowledgment and returned the gesture with a smile.


    The brief exchange between them passed quickly, and Lyonel Strong, Hand of the King, steered the discussion back on track. "Your Majesty, the Kingswood Hunt is scheduled for two days from now. Allow me to outline the itinerary and expenses..."


    Though Lyonel''s appearance seemed ordinary, his demeanor was serious as he presented his report. He meticulously detailed the requirements for the royal forest hunt.


    After he finished, Viserys pondered for a moment before agreeing to the n.


    Since the resignation of the queen''s father, former Hand of the King Otto Hightower, Lyonel had be King Viserys'' most trusted advisor. He was diligent, disciplined in his work, and acted without personal bias, earning Viserys''s respect.


    Silently listening to their discussion, Rhaegar tugged at Viserys'' sleeve and whispered, "The Kingswood Hunt sounds exciting. Can I join you?"


    Having never ventured beyond the Red Keep, he longed to explore the world outside.


    Viserys considered this, his expression troubled. The journey to Kingswood might prove too much for his frail son.


    ncing at Rhaenyra, he silently sought her support.


    "I think Lord Lyonel''s n is excellent and I have no objections," Rhaenyra interjected, pretending not to notice her father''s plea.


    As heir to the Iron Throne, though she had no decision-making power, seconding and praising were essential formalities.


    Unable to secure his daughter''s help, Viserys felt somewhat embarrassed. "I had hoped to take you both hunting in the Kingswood, but..." he trailed off.


    "Aegon''s going, so why can''t I?" Rhaegar feigned confusion.


    "Because of your health. I don''t want anything to happen to you," Viserys replied seriously.


    "No, I want to go. My health is improving, and there will be no danger," Rhaegar assured confidently. "Even if there is danger, I want to see the world outside and not be confined like a caged bird."


    Viserys looked grave, unwilling to give in.


    At that moment, Rhaenyra interjected, "Our family will be hunting in the Kingswood. Rhaegar cannot be left alone in the Red Keep."


    Viserys looked displeased at Rhaenyra''s interference, but she met his disapproval head-on.


    As father and daughter fought in silence, Rhaegar tugged at Viserys'' sleeve and pleaded, "Please, Father, I really want to go."


    "Gods, you always get me into trouble," Viserys muttered in exasperation, but finally gave in to his children''s wishes.


    "I can take you on the hunt, but you have to promise to behave yourself and not run off with Rhaenyra," he warned.


    "No problem, I promise," Rhaegar agreed without hesitation.


    Just then, a hurried figure burst into the hall with urgent news.


    "Your Grace, there''s a request for help from the Stepstone Inds. You may have to consider it!"


    Viserys, always hesitant, greeted everyone with a smile despite the exhaustion that weighed heavily on him. He tried tirelessly to please everyone, but his efforts failed to quell their thirst for power.


    Unable to please everyone.


    As Daemon once remarked, his only real weakness was his indecision.

 Chapter 5: The Second Exploration

    Chapter 5: The Second Exploration


    A visitor eagerly approached Viserys and ced a letter in his hands.


    Rhaegar watched the neer unflinchingly. With his neatly trimmed beard and slicked-back blond hair, he exuded an air of respectability.


    Viserys took the letter and mused, "A plea for help - sounds like something Daemon wouldn''t do, does it?"


    Tnd Lannister nodded solemnly. "It''s a letter from Ser Vaemond Vryon, the Sea Snake''s brother. He''s the one who sent it."


    "I knew that with that bastard''s pride, he wouldn''t take the initiative to write to me, his brother."


    The contents of the letter were soon revealed.


    Viserys'' expression changed slightly as he addressed the ministers present, "The Stepstone Inds are at a stalemate. The cowards who feed the crabs avoid confrontation. Daemon and the others are hindered."


    The ministers exchanged nces and made various suggestions-from sending troops to waiting for Daemon and the Sea Snake''s army to falter.


    Viserys rubbed his temples, feeling a headacheing on. He detested war.This conflict in the Stepstones was privately instigated by Daemon under the Sea Snake''s leadership. Now, in dire straits, they were looking for help.


    Should he clean up the mess left by these crownless men?


    "Rhaenyra, take your brother away, the discussion won''t be over for a while, don''t tire him."


    Viserys kissed Rhaegar''s forehead and left him in the care of his daughter.


    Knowing the matter was moreplicated, Rhaenyra didn''t object and walked out of the hall holding her brother''s hand.


    ...


    Once outside the Council Hall, the siblings reached a corridor lined with floor-to-ceiling windows.


    As Rhaenyra looked out through the stained ss, she asked, "Do you think Uncle Daemon can defeat the Crab Feeder?


    "Dear sister, I just turned six," Rhaegar replied, casting a mncholy nce at his shorter stature.


    After a moment of silence, Rhaenyra pped her forehead in realization. "I''m so stupid. I always treat you like a miniature adult, forgetting that you may not even know who the Crab Feeder is."


    Rhaegar interjected, "If Uncle Daemon hadn''t mentioned that I was a heir prince, I wouldn''t have even known he was my ''uncle.''"


    ...


    Turning to his sister, Rhaegar whispered, "I noticed Father is missing two fingers."


    "He is unwell and the Grand Maester is attending to him," Rhaenyra reassured him, stroking his head gently. She suspected her brother was unnerved by their father''s injuries.


    But Rhaegar remained calm, holding his sister''s hand and pressing a fingernail into her skin.


    "Ouch! What are you doing? That hurts!" Rhaenyra cried, pulling her hand away to reveal a red mark.


    Undeterred by his sister''s reaction, Rhaegar spoke seriously, "A small wound makes you cry out, but Father has lost two fingers. Perhaps he has other wounds..."


    He paused and added, "As king, he cannot afford to show weakness. As his children, we must focus not on personal vendettas, but on strengthening ourselves and helping our father."


    Rhaenyra was taken aback by her brother''s wisdom. Pointing at him, she stammered, "You... you just said you were six years old, and now you''re lecturing me?"


    Rhaegar replied matter-of-factly, "My age limits my knowledge, but books inspire my wisdom."


    "Sister, you should read more and not spend all your time riding dragons and getting caught up in rumors and trouble," he advised, pretending to pat her on the shoulder, though he could not reach her even if he stood on tiptoe. Settling on her slender waist, he turned and walked gracefully away.


    Rhaenyra stood frozen for a moment before a gust of wind brought her back to reality. Then she roared, "Rhaegar, you dare disrespect your sister? Prepare to face the sleeping dragon''s wrath!"


    ...


    Two dayster, a luxurious carriage, apanied by guards and servants, made its way to the Kingswood.


    Inside, Viserys sat between Queen Alicent and Rhaenyra, while Aegon and Hena sat across from them, nursing a suckling baby.


    Rhaegar, seated next to his sister, eyed the infant boredly and remarked, "Such a tiny thing, yet it cries as if in agony. Quite disturbing."


    Alicent chuckled and exined, "Aemond isn''t used to carriages yet. He cries a lot."


    Viserys added with a smile, "A remarkable cry-he''ll make a brave warrior one day."


    Alicent smiled sweetly and handed the small infant to Rhaegar, saying softly, "Would you like to hold him?"


    "Might as well try."


    Rhaegar hesitated before taking the infant, amusing himself for a while with the baby''s antics.


    Rhaegar pinched both of the baby''s armpits with both hands and let him p and kick and lift and y for a while.


    ''If you little thing dares to mess with me in the future, you will definitely not be spared.''


    Rhaegar curled the corner of his mouth, already thinking of the image of teaching him a lesson in the future.


    It wasn''t long before Aemond was devastated and returned to his mother crying loudly.


    Viserys couldn''t help but rx at the sight, basking in the joy of his family''spany.


    A wife to keep himpany, a luxurious carriage to transport him, and children to surround him.


    Is there anything better than that?


    Noticing Viserys'' happiness, Rhaegar said at the right moment, "Father, is that Aegon the Conqueror''s ckfire beside you?"


    Viserys smiled and picked up the sheathed longsword beside him and said with a proud face, "Yes, the ckfyre, the symbol of kingship with which the Conqueror swept away the Seven Kingdoms."


    "May I admire it?"


    Rhaegar''s eyes glowed as he gazed eagerly at the ckfyre.


    Viserys presented the sword, but pulled it back halfway.


    Looking at Rhaegar''s thin bones, he said regretfully, "Not yet, the ckfyre is a sharp weapon full of blood, wait until you''re a bit older before you pick it up.


    "But I want to try it."


    An inherited sword with enough age and experience to rival Balerion''s Skull, Rhaegar didn''t want to give it up.


    Viserys shook his head and sheathed ckfyre again, refusing his request.


    Rhaegar was filled with disappointment and lowered his head.


    "If you want to see a sharp de, this would be a good choice."


    Seemingly unable to see his eldest son unhappy, Viserys unhooked a dragonhorn dagger from his waist and threw it at Rhaegar with a mysterious expression.


    Rhaegar caught it with his hands and looked at his father in confusion.


    Viserysughed, "This dagger once belonged to the same Aegon the Conqueror, and before him to Aenar."


    "Wow, old enough."


    Rhaegar expressed his amazement and drew his Dragonhorn Dagger.


    Swiss...


    The dagger came out of its sheath as if a cold light shone from it.


    Rhaegar blinked slightly and saw that the dagger was patterned and the material and workmanship was impable.


    "This is a Valyrian steel dagger?"


    Rhaenyra asked in surprise.


    Viserys nodded, "Everything passed down from our ancestors has its own unique characteristics."


    At the same time, a system message sounded in Rhaegar''s ears.


    "Lost treasure found, contains trace of magic."


    "Magic?"


    Rhaegar''s mind was revived.


    The system sounded again.


    "Detection sessful, the dagger records the Song of Ice and Fire, do you wish to proceed with the exploration?"

 Chapter 6: Ancient Valyrian

    Chapter 6: Ancient Valyrian


    "Let''s start exploring!"


    Faced with another exploration mission, Rhaegar could not resist the opportunity. The silent urge within him red as the progress panel for the Dragonhorn Dagger appeared.


    [Valyrian Steel Dagger]


    Exploration progress: 2.5%


    "Alright!"


    Rhaegar cheered inwardly, a broad grin spreading across his face.


    Declining Rhaenyra''s request to see the dragon''s horn dagger, Rhaegar feigned fatigue, iming he needed to sleep.


    "Fine, snuggle up with your dagger, you miser," Rhaenyra scoffed.


    Rubbing the dark circles under his eyes, Rhaegar nestled into his sister''s embrace, yawning as he pleaded with his father, "I''ll return the dagger before we disembark, I promise.""Sure, just don''t start wielding it in your dreams," Viserys teased, relieved to see his son''s improved energy.


    Has it really been so long since I''ve seen my eldest? He seems more animated these days, not out of breath after a few words. Viserys relished his role as father.


    ...


    The wagon rumbled on, the hours ticking by until the sun was high in the sky.


    "Explorationplete, please im your reward."


    The carriage stopped just as Rhaegar was awakened by the system prompt, a tickle at the tip of his nose.


    He opened his eyes to find Rhaenyra yfully tickling his nose with a strand of silver hair.


    "Sis, you''re such a bore."


    Pushing himself upright, Rhaegar realized he was resting on a chair, his head in Rhaenyra''sp.


    "We have arrived at the camp. The ministers are waiting outside to greet us," Rhaenyra informed him, urging her brother to wake.


    Rhaegar snapped to attention and quickly checked the system panel.


    [Valyrian Steel Dagger]


    Exploration progress: 100%


    He focused on the dragon horn dagger in his hand, a blue light ball sticking to the handle of the dragon horn.


    Looking around the carriage, he noticed that no one else seemed to see the sudden blue glow.


    "It seems I''m the only one who can see it."


    Regardless of his mood, Rhaegar breathed a sigh of relief, secretly enjoying this unique ability.


    He liked the feeling of exclusivity.


    When he touched the blue ball of light, it disintegrated into tiny specks of light and sank into his hand as before.


    "Father, here''s the dagger," Rhaegar said as Viserys, apanied by Alicent, straightened his clothes.


    "Ask your sister to smooth the folds of your dress, you cannot be rude before the ministers."


    Viserys tied it neatly around his waist and admonished him to be presentable.


    Not exactly gentle, Rhaenyra pulled him over to her and smiled as she brushed his silver hair, frizzed from sleep.


    Seizing the moment, Rhaegar nced at the system panel.


    "The relic has been sessfully retrieved and the evaluation is underway..."


    "The evaluation isplete, the relic is rated excellent, "A Sage''s Warning"."


    "Would you like to activate this relic?"


    "Excellent, huh?"


    Rega pondered the different ratings on the panel.


    The previously explored dragon''s legacy was considered legendary, its relic halo red.


    This exploration, rated excellent, had a blue relic halo.


    "It seems that relics are graded differently, from low to high. The legendary level taps into the bloodline of the ancient Valyrian Dragonlords, a truly precious find."


    Recognizing the changes wrought by [Blood and Fire], Rhaegar silently thanked Balerion for his kindness.


    "Activate the relic."


    He thought silently, and a line of text appeared on the system panel.


    "Congrattions, the Sage''s Warning has been sessfully activated. You have received..."


    [Old Valyrian Language Proficiency]


    Level: Excellent (Blue) Function: Proficiency in the Old Valyrian Language


    Evaluation: "Learning anguage will never be a disadvantage."


    As he read the text, a wave seemed to shoot up from his tailbone to his crown.


    Rhaegar shivered as his mind filled with knowledge of Old Valyrian, from basic to advanced.


    Thenguage seemed to take root and blossom in his brain, as natural as breathing.


    "Rhaegar, are you all right?"


    Noticing his difort, Rhaenyra inquired quietly.


    He shook his head vigorously. "No, I''m fine," he insisted, pping his chest to emphasize his well-being.


    "Come on, we''ve kept the ministers waiting long enough. Show some grace."


    Viserys, with ckfyre at his waist, stepped out of the carriage first, greeted by cheers from the crowd.


    "Let''s go, children," Alicent whispered, leading the way.


    Rhaenyra frowned at the term, ufortable with being addressed as a child. They had been childhood friends, confidants, until the death of their mother in childbirth caused Alicent to marry their father. Now she spoke to them in the same tone she used with her own children. It was utterly repulsive.


    Scowling, Rhaenyra pulled Rhaegar from the carriage with her.


    Compared to the adtion showered on the king, the reception for Rhaenyra, the rightful heir, was lukewarm.


    Meanwhile, Alicent, apanied by the three princes and princesses, smiled and exchanged pleasantries with the noblewomen, some even whispering "Long live Prince Aegon" in a show of ingratitude, drawing a crowd of supporters for the younger prince while ignoring the legitimate heir, Rhaenyra, and the king''s eldest son, Rhaegar.


    Forced to smile, Rhaenyra followed Viserys, feigning indifference.


    Beneath Rhaegar''s exterior, a sweet smile masked his turmoil. Though pale with dark circles under his eyes, he maintained hisposure.


    "I''m fine, Rhaegar," Rhaenyra assured him in a hushed tone. "I know the Targaryens never back down."


    Rhaegar agreed quietly, but his eyes turned to the source of the disrespectful remarks.


    Within seconds, he identified the culprit: a man with curly blond hair and a prominent nose, and an elderly woman standing beside him.


    He appeared to be a knight, adept with a bow and a horse.


    "I''ll remember you, big-nosed fool," Rhaegar swore silently. Who asked him to have such a big nose? Just looking at it made him want to throw a punch!


    ...


    As the warm wee faded, the camp erupted in celebration.


    Tables groaned under the weight of assorted drinks, fruit, and cakes for the nobles and their families who had participated in the hunt.


    Viserys took his seat in the main tent and epted greetings from the ministers.


    Rhaenyra and Rhaegar joined him, but Rhaenyra was interrupted by a white-haired, well-dressed elderly woman who turned the conversation to the rumors of the Stepstones.


    Apparently, a noblewoman had been kidnapped by pirates and fed to crabs.


    As Rhaenyra approached, she was drawn into the conversation, only to find herself questioned about Daemon''s private war and her im to the inheritance.


    "Mrs. Gilra, Daemon is only to me, the princess is more suited for the position of heir." Alicent intervened and sat down beside the old woman.


    The current king was Viserys, her husband.


    Whether the position of heir goes to Rhaenyra or her children is a matter of familypetition.


    Since Daemon had long been excluded from the line of session, Alicent refused to consider his im to the throne.


    Mrs. Gilra turned her attention to Daemon''s war, ming him for dragging the kingdom into conflict.


    "For the sake of this unnecessary war, the kingdom was dragged down by your uncle to send fleets and soldiers topletely eradicate the Three Daughters."


    "This required countless manpower and resources, and sacrificed the lives of many soldiers."


    It looks like this conversation is far from over.

 Chapter 7: Larys The Clubfoot

    Chapter 7: Larys The Clubfoot


    "The kingdom has not started a war; my father is still negotiating," Rhaenyra countered the old woman''s harsh criticism, her smile fading.


    Another old woman chimed in, "Regardless of the King''s denials, the war has begun, thanks to your uncle and the Sea Snake."


    "And what recent service have you rendered the kingdom, Lady Redwyn?" Rhaenyra''s patience was wearing thin. She nced disdainfully at the pug-munchingdy and quipped, "Is your contribution limited to eating cake?"


    Her mocking words hung in the air, casting a hush over the scene.


    "Pfft~" A sudden burst ofughter shattered the tense atmosphere, jarringly loud against the silence.


    Lady Redwyn''s expression turned sour. She eyed the silver-haired boy, who was stifling a smile, and asked, her voice deep with disapproval, "Is this the prince, Your Highness?"


    Ignoring her, Rhaenyra turned and walked away, leaving the old woman with a cool, dismissive look.


    Rhaegar couldn''t help smiling. Facing the group of nobledies, he introduced himself warmly: "I am Rhaegar, Rhaegar Targaryen.


    "Viserys I is my father and I am his eldest son."Saying that, he looked at Lady Redwyne and asked, "Forgive me, I have been weak and sickly since I was a child and rarely appeared in front of people, I do not know if this Lady Cake has any impression of my name?"


    "Pfft~"


    Once again, someone couldn''t hold back theirughter.


    Rhaegar turned his head to see a thin man with curly brown hair.


    Surprisingly, the man was sitting in a pile of women.


    It was still a group of long-winded women meeting.


    The other man held a cane, and Rhaegar''s eyes went down to find a grotesque shoe.


    It was a crippled man with a deformed foot.


    Feeling his eyes, the man nodded politely and introduced himself, "Larys Strong, at your service, Your Grace."


    Returning the courtesy, Rhaegar asked curiously, "And who might you be, are you rted to Lord Lyonel?"


    "Yes, I am his youngest son." Larys replied, shrinking his deformed foot at the prince''s question.


    "Your father is known as a good hand."


    After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Rhaegar stopped paying attention and turned his gaze to Lady Redwyne.


    "The Three Daughters invaded the kingdom''s territory, plundering the ships that came and went and trading in the people who were loyal to my father."


    "It is true that my Uncle Daemon went to war privately, but he did so to protect his brother''s kingdom and to do his duty as a Targaryen prince should."


    Rhaegar paused for a moment and cast a righteous nce at Lady Gilra, who had spoken first:


    "I believe it won''t take long for father to make a painful decision to participate in the war and send troops to defeat that crab-feeding fannish invader."


    As the impassioned speech came to an end, Rhaegar focused on Lady. Redwyne, who was hugging her pug and deepening her bond with the cakes.


    At his words, the expressions of thedies who had just pressed Rhaenyra changed, their initial camaraderie reced by shock and difort.


    It was as if they had been publicly rebuked. Alicent looked at him with surprise, seemingly meeting him anew.


    No one expected such maturity from a six-year-old.


    Lady Redwyne, in particr, felt deeply humiliated, though she offered no defense.


    "Queen Alicent, it falls to you to discipline the king''s children," she remarked, dropping her pug and storming off, her skirts trailing cake crumbs as she muttered curses under her breath.


    "Oh, it seems my speech was too juvenile and did not resonate with you all." Rhaegar remarked with a smile, lightly patting his chest. With a polite bow, he excused himself, not interested in further conversation with the gossiping, narrow-minded women.


    His priority was to find his sister, knowing how vulnerable adolescent girls could be and thefort they sought.


    As he walked away from the gathering, uneven footsteps followed. Rhaegar turned to see Larys leaning on his staff, following him.


    "Ser Larys, don''t you likedies'' gossip?" Rhaegar asked, puzzled by the man''s presence.


    Larys replied cryptically, "I enjoy all kinds of news, Your Highness."


    "Including this?" Rhaegar inquired, eyeing him curiously.


    Larys leaned forward, his smile ingratiating, "I came specifically to see you, Your Grace."


    Nodding, Rhaegar motioned for him to continue.


    "I understand the prince has been confined to the pce due to illness?" Larys prompted.


    "Yes, aplication during my birth endangered my life until the age of six," Rhaegar confirmed, wary of Larys'' intentions.


    "Thank the Seven Gods for sparing your life," Larys praised exaggeratedly. "Despite your infirmity, your talents shine, a boon to the realm."


    Larys exaggerated his praise.


    Rhaegar began to lose patience and said ndly, "The years without running and ying have given me plenty of time to read."


    "Oh, what books does Your Grace like?"


    "Some history books; reading history can make one wise and learn from the experiences of one''s ancestors."


    Rhaegar lost interest in the conversation and said nonchntly, "History warns future generations to guard their honor and stay away from people with evil intentions."


    Then he turned to leave.


    Watching his departure, Larys leaned on his staff, a knowing smile in his eyes. "An intriguing young prince, but the tide has not yet turned," he mused.


    ...


    Leaving the gathering, Rhaegar continued his search for his sister. Despite his best efforts, she remained nearly impossible to locate.


    Concern gnawed at him as he wondered if the confrontation had driven Rhaenyra to seek sce alone.


    "Your Grace," a quiet voice interrupted his thoughts as he wandered among the bonfires and fruit tters.


    Turning, Rhaegar saw a white knight in silver armor and robes, his face hidden by a helm.


    Beneath the helm was a ponytail, thick eyebrows, and a thick beard.


    This white knight had a face he had seen before, more than once, in fact.


    The twin brothers of the Kingsguard, Arryk Cargyll and Erryk Cargyll.


    The two brothers had extraordinary skills and a heart of justice, so they were chosen to join the Kingsguard together.


    "Ser Erryk, what brings you here?"


    Rhaegar carried a bunch of red grapes and looked curiously at the other.


    At being called by name, Erryk was slightly stunned and seemed somewhat ttered.


    He and his younger brother Arryk were simply too much alike, and except for those who had spent many years together, very few people could tell the difference between the two brothers.


    It was not umon to be called by the wrong name.


    Erryk took a few steps forward and bowed respectfully, "The king is looking for you."


    "Alright, lead the way."


    Rhaegar was very cooperative, Erryk hesitated slightly, reminding himself, "Your Highness, the king just had a quarrel with the princess, his mood is not exactly great."


    "A quarrel? About what?"


    Ignoring Rhaenyra''s whereabouts for the moment, Rhaegar inquired about the cause of the recent quarrel between his father and sister, eager to understand the situation.


    "I dare not delve into the details of the princess''s marital affairs," Erryk replied cautiously, avoiding the subject.


    However, he subtly alluded to the involvement of Jason Lannister, Tnd Lannister''s twin brother, which sparked Rhaegar''s realization.


    Jason Lannister, the Warden of the West, had privately courted Rhaenyra with his arrogant manner and his ambitions for beauty and power.


    Rhaenyra could not bear the sight of such a fool and politely refused the other party.


    Back at camp, in response to Jason Lannister''s behavior, Rhaenyra resisted her father''s attempts to dictate her marriage, leading to a heated exchange and tearful fallout.


    As Rhaegar processed the information, theplex dynamics within the royal family weighed heavily on his mind.

 Chapter 8: The White Hart

    Chapter 8: The White Hart


    "How is my sister now?" Rhaegar inquired worriedly.


    "Sigh," Rhaegar''s worry was palpable as he considered Rhaenyra''s actions.


    Erryk didn''t mince words, "The princess stormed out of the tent ahead of me and headed into the Kingswood to ride her horse."


    "Alone?" Rhaegar''s concern deepened.


    "Indeed. Ser Cole quickly followed in hot pursuit," Erryk confirmed.


    Acknowledging the situation, Rhaegar''s tone turned cold, "Ser Erryk, what were my father''s instructions when he sent you to me?"


    Erryk, slightly confused, replied honestly, "His Grace ordered me to return the prince and ensure your safety."


    Very well," Rhaegar replied, his expression softening. "Next, I''ll need your protection."


    Erryk looked puzzled as Rhaegar trotted toward the nearest tethering fence and vaulted inside."Prince, I don''t understand your intent," Erryk trailed closely, uncertain.


    Rhaegar eyed arge ck horse and asked, "What about this one? Looks sturdy, doesn''t it?"


    "Prince, you''re suggesting riding into the Kingswood?" Erryk''s tone was incredulous.


    Rhaegar replied with a serious expression, "No, we''re going together."


    "His Grace will not approve of such a venture!" Erryk protested.


    "With a Kingsguard escort, it''s hardly reckless," Rhaegar replied.


    Before Erryk could refuse, Rhaegar gently grabbed a handful of horsehair and whispered, "Ser, I believe you mean me no harm either."


    The ck horse, feeling the pressure, shifted ufortably and whinnied.


    Rhaegar stood beside the horse, watching Erryk calmly. "What is your decision, Ser?"


    Erryk stared back, struggling with Prince Rhaegar''s coercive tactics. Hemented the king''s predicament in dealing with such stubborn children. Finally he bowed his head. "I will lead you to the princess, but I will set the terms of the journey."


    "No problem, Ser," Rhaegar replied, smiling faintly as he held out his arms.


    Erryk approached and lifted Rhaegar onto the horse''s back before leading them out of the enclosure.


    Not long after, the ck horse left the camp and galloped down the Kingswood path.


    "Ser, do you know where my sister went?"


    Rhaegar asked, his tattered hair blowing in the wind.


    Erryk''s face was solemn as he replied, "Ser Cole is a watchful man; he marked the path."


    None of the people who qualified to be Kingswood guards were ordinary, and a little thing like leaving a message was easy enough to do.


    Time passed quickly.


    The sun was high in the sky when he left the camp, but in a sh it was sundown.


    In the light of the setting sun, Erryk held the ck horse and walked slowly along the Kingswood path, thick with pines and cypresses.


    "Ser, it seems my luck in finding people is really bad."


    Lying on the horse''s back, Rhaegar''s lips were white, his forehead slightly sweaty, and he spoke breathlessly.


    Erryk sighed, "Perhaps the trail Ser Cole left disappeared halfway through the journey and we had no idea where we were."


    "Oh, it must have been Rhaenyra, she probably didn''t want anyone to find her."


    Rhaegar shook his head andughed bitterly.


    Erryk didn''t respond, trying to take in his surroundings and find his way back to the camp.


    The Kingswood wasrge, and with Rhaegar leading them aimlessly, they had run too far.


    Suddenly, they heard a rustling nearby, and Erryk tensed, his hand on his sword.


    Erryk, worthy of being a member of the strongest group of knights in the kingdom, sensed immediately that something was wrong.


    Rhaegar was already weak, and at this moment he was so tired that he didn''t even know what was happening around him.


    ?


    Erryk, alert, whispered, "There''s movement nearby, something big."


    "Could it be dangerous?" Rhaegar adjusted his posture, apprehensive.


    I''m not sure. It could be a poacher or a wild boar," Erryk cautioned.


    Rhaegar suggested, "Should we ride on to avoid a confrontation?"


    Erryk reassured, "Fear not, Prince. I will protect you."


    Soon a majestic white hart appeared, startling Rhaegar with its presence.


    "A white hart!?" Rhaegar eximed in awe.


    Before Aegon the Conqueror unified the continent and dragons ruled Westeros, the White Hart was a symbol of royalty and good fortune.


    More than a hundred years had passed, and the White Hart had long since disappeared from the eyes of the world.


    Unexpectedly, they found one in the Kingswood.


    "Prince, this is not the time to be curious, this White Hart is veryrge and it will be dangerous if it decides to attack us."


    Erryk''s face changed slightly as he stared at the white hart, his long sword lightly sheathed.


    Hearing him say that, Rhaegar noticed the size of the white hart.


    Not counting the huge pair of antlers, the white stag was visually two meters tall and no less than five meters long.


    Underneath the satin-smooth white fur were gnarled muscles, so one could imagine the strength this peaceful creature was capable of exploding with.


    "Are you sure you can handle this?"


    Rhaegar was a little worried.


    Erryk: "One on one, I''m fifty percent sure."


    "What about me?"


    "Let''s just pray it doesn''t actively attack us."


    Erryk''s words were filled with helplessness.


    Rhaegar put his hand to his forehead, feeling powerless for his small arms and legs.


    But perhaps the gods favored him after all.


    The white stag did not attack and chirped softly at them, its amber eyes filled with curiosity and innocence.


    "It doesn''t seem to have the ferocity of a wild beast?"


    Realizing this, Rhaegar''s pounding heart eased slightly with a sense of excitement.


    Seeing that they didn''t move, the white stag slowly approached, its nostrils twitching slightly as it sniffed their scent.


    "Ser, carry me down."


    The more he looked into the white stag''s eyes, the more Rhaegar felt it was something special and asked Erryk for help.


    "Prince, it''s dangerous..."


    "The creature is peaceful, I''m sure it''s not a wild beast."


    Interrupting Erryk''s admonition, Rhaegar smiled at the white hart and beckoned.


    "Come here, my friend."


    The white hart bowed slightly, assuming an aggressive stance as he nced cluelessly at the human child on the horse''s back.


    "Quick, carry me down, Ser."


    "Please be careful, this is no joke."


    Once on the ground, Rhaegar unbuckled a small pouch at his waist, pulled out a few stored red grapes, and called out softly:


    "My friend, would you like to try some?"


    Seeing the red fruit in the human child''s hands, the white hart''s eyes lit up and he couldn''t help but move his hooves forward.


    When the two parties were less than ten feet apart, Erryk''s sharp eyes were like those of an eagle, and his long sword was slowly sheathed.


    Rhaegar stopped him immediately, "Put down your weapon, don''t scare it."


    "Prince..."


    "That''s an order, Ser!"


    Under the watchful eyes of the white hart, Erryk reluctantly sheathed his sword and followed closely behind Rhaegar.


    If there was any danger, he would be ready to protect him.

 Chapter 9: The Kingsguard Shock

    Chapter 9: The Kingsguard Shock


    Fortunately, nothing bad happened.


    As the white hart drew closer, Rhaegar''s hands and feet trembled slightly as he cautiously stepped forward, his hands raised high above his head.


    Under the setting sun, the shadows of a man and a hart ovepped.


    The white hart stopped in front of Rhaegar, lowered its head to sniff lightly at the red grapes held in its small hands, and stuck out its tongue to roll one into its mouth and chew.


    The sweet and creamy flesh was chewed, the juice filling his mouth along with the fresh vor, giving the white hart a new experience.


    After eating one, he quickly ate the rest.


    Rhaegar excitedly looked at the White Hart, his face gradually turning pale from the initial tension and stress, and his entire body breaking into a faint sweat, soaking his light and fancy clothes.


    "Good boy, after you''ve eaten all my food, it''s time for me to pet you."


    As soon as he opened his mouth, he panted heavily and extended his small hand into the clear eyes of the white hart.He touched his slender neck fur.


    The White Hart didn''t pull away, allowing the human child to stroke it and touching his pouch with its mouth.


    Rhaegar smiled brightly, "Glutton, have you sniffed the rest of my stock?"


    Rhaegar wrapped one hand around the white hart''s neck and pressed his face against the snow-white fur, rubbing it gently.


    With his other hand, he unzipped his small pouch and dumped what was left of his provisions on the ground in one fell swoop.


    A few red grapes, a slice of apple, half an orange...


    The white hart came to him, bowed his head, and ate.


    Seeing this scene, Erryk was shocked, his lips moving slightly, "Prince..."


    Rhaegar looked back at the stunned Erryk, a hint of blush rising to his pale face, and he said sheepishly, "It''s leftovers, it''s a waste to throw them away."


    "No, that''s not it, I mean..."


    At that moment, the word speechless was just right for Erryk.


    He who would not even blink in the face of an assassin''s siege was deeply shaken.


    For a white hart to willingly approach the prince was unprecedented in the annals of Westerosi history. It was the stuff of legend, a tale to be sung by bards for generations toe.


    But Rhaegar was oblivious to its significance, consumed by the present moment.


    His heart was pounding, his ears ringing. Fatigue washed over him and he fought to keep his eyes open.


    "Ser, don''t hurt my new friend," Rhaegar managed weakly before he slipped into unconsciousness, his arm slipping from the white hart''s neck.


    He copsed with a thud, exhausted from the day''s events.


    After running around for a day, he finally couldn''t stand the excitement anymore and passed out.


    "Prince...? Prince!"


    Before he lost consciousness, Rhaegar seemed to hear Erryk screaming desperately and shaking his body.


    Unknown to him, a voice spoke as he slept:


    "Rare creature detected. Contains traces of magic."


    "Detection sessful. A white hart is a sign of good fortune. Would you like to explore further?"


    "...Since the host is in aa, the system will automatically initiate exploration."


    Unable to hear the sound of the system message, Rhaegar waspletely unaware of the situation.


    ......


    A certain clearing in Kingswood.


    Rhaenyra, who had fled the camp in tears, was now calmly sitting on a dead tree.


    In front of her, a handsome knight in silver armor and white robes put down his longsword and moved neatly to build a bonfire.


    "Ser Cole, I didn''t realize your abilities were not limited tobat."


    Rhaenyra ced her hands on her cheeks, her tone flirtatious.


    Cole, who had a head of ck curly hair, smiled as he handled a wild rabbit he had hunted and replied, "Ie from a normal background, and before I became a knight I had to do all the chores myself."


    It had to be said that Criston Cole was indeed outstanding.


    Not only was he an honorable Kingsguard, but his looks were good enough to please a girl.


    His soft speech and pure eyes were even more impressive.


    Rhaenyra, whocked love and care, was mesmerized by him.


    With a longing face, she watched her knight carefully prepare dinner.


    If Rhaegar were here, he dared swear to the Sevens that even if Cole served a piece of charcoal a littleter, Rhaenyra would swallow it without a second thought and pretend it was delicious.


    Rustling...


    The rabbit was barely roasted when amotion came from not too far away, drawing their attention.


    Cole drew his longsword and prepared for an enemy in the shadows.


    As time passed, a ck-skinned boar ran out of the dark woods and charged like mad.


    Faced with the impact of a full-grown boar, Cole''s eyes widened as he hastily dodged, his longsword slicing through the boar''s body and leaving a scar.


    The boar, with its thick skin and flesh, missed a charge but still turned its head and continued to charge.


    This time it took aim at the frozen Rhaenyra.


    " Watch out!"


    Cole yelled, reminding Rhaenyra to dodge.


    In an instant, the boar crossed the burning campfire and headed straight for the young girl, who looked like an easier target.


    The campfire was shattered, burning dry wood scattered in all directions, and mes billowed into the night sky.


    In the firelight, the boar approached the young girl, its sharp tusks less than a fist''s width from her soft belly.


    Death truly came without warning.


    ......


    "No!"


    A scream rang out under the moonlit night, its voice mournful.


    Rhaegar''s eyes snapped open, his body sitting up straight, his face filled with panic.


    "You are awake, Prince!"


    The next second, Erryk''s voice reached his ears.


    Rhaegar turned his head as if in stress and looked at a bonfire.


    "The bonfire... It''s not destroyed?"


    Seeing the zing fire, Rhaegar swallowed a mouthful of saliva, still feeling his mouth dry.


    Footsteps came from behind him, and Rhaegar turned his head to see an agitated Erryk striding toward him.


    In his hand was a pheasant with a grass rope around its neck.


    "Ser, where are we and where''s my sister?"


    Rhaegar was momentarily confused, his boyish face full of fear.


    Erryk dropped his prey and walked over to the frightened young prince, cing his hands on his shoulders:


    "Don''t be afraid, it was just a nightmare."


    "A nightmare?"


    Rhaegar wiped his forehead, covered in cold sweat from the shock.


    Erryk stroked his back gently, patiently recounting their day''s journey.


    Finally, Rhaegar remembered the original situation.


    "Whew~"


    Taking a deep breath, Rhaegar''s eyes brightened with happiness and the fear on his face faded.


    "So it was a nightmare."


    Although the dream was very real, Rhaegar had long since be ustomed to the nightmares that gued him.


    "Ser, I was really frightened by the dream just now."


    The palpitations subsided, and Rhaegar forced out a smile to hide the embarrassment of losing his temper.


    Erryk shook his head, "Everyone has nightmares, forget it."


    Rhaegar mumbled his thanks.


    Then he remembered something and looked around.


    Not seeing the figure from his memory, Rhaegar wondered, "Where is the White Hart, where did he go?"


    Erryk told him truthfully, "After you fainted, the White Hart stayed by your side and brought you a red fruit."


    "The White Hart alsoid you on your stomach before it left, probably sensing that you were about to wake up, it left on its own."


    Rhaegar lost it, "Gone? I was hoping to bring it back and show it to my father."


    Erryk advised, "The white hart is not of the human world, it came from the forest, and now that it''s back in the forest, you should just be happy for your newfound friend."


    "Well, it''s still my friend."


    Rhaegar murmured quietly, still reluctant inside.

 Chapter 10: A Generous Friend

    Chapter 10: A Generous Friend


    Rhaegar had an indescribable feeling. The friend he had just met was leaving without saying goodbye.


    There had been no time to get to know each other.


    "I still want to ride it around a few times."


    Rhaegar joked to Erryk.


    "If it''s meant to be, maybe you''ll see each other again."


    Eryk replied with a lightugh.


    Satisfied that the young prince''s emotions had calmed, he rose to dispose of the pheasant''s carcass.


    Rhaegar nced at Erryk''s white robes. He pursed his lips and picked up the pouch of water from the side to take a full drink.


    " Hah~, refreshing."As his throat became moist, Rhaegar suddenly remembered the memory of the system he had heard before passing out.


    "I wonder if it''s a hallucination?"


    With a thought, the system panel came into view.


    [Rhaegar Targaryen]


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold), Longevity (Green)


    Bloodline: Old Valyrian Dragonlord (+10%)


    Skills: Old Valyrian Language Proficiency...


    Relic: Blood and Fire (me Resistance +50%)


    Evaluation: "Lucky boy, you have found yourself a very generous friend."


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened. He was staring at a particr line of small words in the system panel.


    "New talent, Longevity?"


    Rhaegar blinked. He had to make sure he hadn''t misread it.


    "There really is another talent!"


    Heart pounding, he covered his chest, he was really excited.


    "What does longevity mean, can I really live a hundred years?"


    He was aware of his own body, it was full of diseases that basically made him half an invalid.


    His little heart was beating faster and faster, and his hands and feet were cold, but his heart was very happy.


    He was weak from organ failure.


    That''s why he used to pant when he took a few steps, and his heart didn''t get enough blood when he got excited.


    Now he felt like his heart was about to pound out of his chest.


    It was only slightly ufortable.


    Now, not even his hands and feet were shaking.


    "Haha, I can live to be a hundred years old. This damned disease can''t kill me anymore!"


    Rhaegar, cured of a long illness, could no longer control his emotions. He suddenly let out a loudugh.


    Erryk, who had just finished plucking chicken feathers and was about to start a barbecue, was startled by the suddenughter.


    When he turned around, he saw the young prince falling to the ground,ughing maniacally.


    He was waving his arms back and forth with his palms wide open. He picked up the dirt and waved it recklessly.


    Rhaegar''s young mind was overwhelmed with joy, and he found himself unable to speak.


    Had he not done so, he would have been choked into madness.


    Though in Erryk''s eyes, Rhaegar was a bit mad now.


    "Seven hells, ah, please don''t torture me anymore!"


    Errykmented. He left the fried chicken and went to check on the little prince.


    He had just woken up from hisa, so please don''t go crazy on him again.


    It was enough for the king to condemn him for stealing the prince from his house.


    If he brought back a crazy little prince, the king would surely chop off his head.


    "Dear brother, I hope this doesn''t implicate you."


    Erryk said silently. He prayed that the beheading would not involve his brother Arryk.


    ...


    As it turned out, Erryk had worried for nothing.


    After ten minutes of letting Rhaegar go crazy, he was paralyzed with exhaustion.


    He would not move a muscle as hey on the ground.


    When asked why he wasughing. He got only one answer.


    "Is it not worthwhile to be happy when a cripple can get rid of his crutches?"


    Erryk did not understand.


    But he realized that the young prince was fine.


    He shouldn''t beatose or mad.


    "I think my head has been saved."


    Erryk shook his head. He couldn''t keep up with the Targaryen''s thinking.


    It would be better to finish the roast chicken and get dinner ready.


    Rhaegary quietly on Erryk''s spread white robe. He was lost in thought.


    Many things were on his mind.


    The system review for "Generous Friend", Erryk said that the White Hart fed him a red fruit...


    The bloodline of the ancient Valyrian Dragonlord that continues to rise...


    He looked at the system map.


    The system detected the White Hart as a rare species. Conditions for exploration were met.


    With Rhaegar unconscious, the exploration was automaticallypleted.


    And the reward for the research was this red fruit.


    [Magical Creature. White Hart]


    Progress of exploration: "100%"


    "Relic automatically collected, detection in progress..."


    "Detection sessful, determined to be an epic relic, auspicious blessing."


    "Do you wish to activate the relic?"


    "The relic has been automatically activated."


    "Congrattions, Auspicious Blessing sessfully activated, you have received..."


    [Longevity]


    Grade: Good Grade (Green)


    Function: A relic that can grant a new friend''s most heartfelt wishes.


    Evaluation: "The red grape is too sweet, a sour orange is more to my taste."


    Rhaegar''s heart rejoiced at the sight of this testament to individual will.


    The disappointment of the White Hart''s departure without a farewell was washed away.


    "Thank you, dear friend."


    Rhaegar silently thanked the White Hart.


    At the same time, a blind spot in the system was discovered.


    The blessing of the creature was considered an epic-level reward.


    However, the [Longevity] that could be obtained after its activation was only a good-grade reward.


    Compared to the legendary level of [Blood and Fire], and even the excellent level of [Old Valyrian Language Proficiency], it was indeed far inferior.


    But after thinking about it for a moment, Rhaegar attributed it to the Blessing feature.


    Rhaegar''s subconscious desire was to have a healthy body, and the Blessing is all about that.


    It was what brought him health and longevity.


    Rhaegar lifted his head to look up at the night with the curved moon. There was an unprecedented lightness in his eyes, and the dark circles under his eyes seemed to have faded considerably.


    "I am no longer a sickly child tonight."


    "A Rhaegar not threatened with an early death. A Targaryen who brings into this world a legend strong enough to be sung for thousands and thousands of years."


    Rhaegar raised a hand and clenched it, determined.


    The world will know his name!


    Erryk, who was cooking at the side of the table, sniffed at the golden-skinned roast chicken with a puzzled look.


    "Strange, isn''t it mushy?"


    ......


    The next day.


    Early in the morning, a sleepy Rhaegar humped onto his horse, muttering, "Dracarys."


    "Worthy of a Targaryen child, riding dragons in his dreams," Erryk muttered, the corner of his mouth curling as he walked back to camp.


    The early morning dew began to disappear and the sun continued to rise.


    Erryk appeared at the entrance of the camp at eight in the morning, riding a ck horse.


    "Erryk, you have returned atst."


    Without waiting for him to enter the camp, a figure scurried out of the corner with a voice full of surprise.


    Rhaegar, long since awakened from his sleep, looked up. He saw the face of another Erryk.


    Needless to say, Rhaegar knew.


    It was Erryk''s twin brother, Arryk Cargyll.


    "Where were you yesterday?" Arryk asked eagerly, grabbing the reins without waiting for his brother to answer.


    Seeing his brother''s indignation, Erryk dismounted with Rhaegar in his arms and said helplessly: "What do you mean?"


    Erryk grew even angrier: "Just the fact that the King ordered you to bring Prince Rhaegar in for questioning and you snuck out of camp with him is enough for the King to order you hanged!"


    Erryk''s look wasplicated. His lips moved slightly and finally turned into a sigh.


    What had happenedst night was so bizarre that he was still struggling to get over it.


    Not to mention having to tell it to a dead-eyed brother.


    Seeing his difficulty, Rhaegar took the initiative to solve the problem: "Ser Arryk, it was I who asked your brother to take me out of the camp, that was not his intention."


    Arryk looked at Rhaegar, who was not as tall as his own legs, and bowed his head, "Your Grace, it is not I who me him, the king waited a long time for you and the princess yesterday and was iparably upset."


    "Do you understand what I mean?"


    Hearing the deep meaning in Arryk''s words, Rhaegar said sincerely, "Do not worry, I understand your concern for your brother, I will do my best to defend Ser Erryk."


    "This started because of me, I will bear all the consequences."

 Chapter 11: First Confrontation with the King

    Chapter 11: First Confrontation with the King


    "Thank you, Prince."


    Receiving the young prince''s assurance, Arryk thanked him sincerely and led them into the camp.


    The children stayed out all night. Viserys was both angry and disappointed.


    Disappointed not only in his children, but in himself.


    As a king, he was ipetent, letting his subjects go to war on their own.


    As a father, he was useless at disciplining his children.


    After a night of counseling from Queen Alicent, Viserys, in a rare moment of rity, decided to do something about it.


    Rhaegar entered the king''s tent and saw Viserys sitting on the main seat.


    When he looked around, none of the dignitaries who had celebrated yesterday were there.Even the trusted ministers were not among them.


    "Father, I''m back."


    Seeing his not-so-happy father, Rhaegar took the initiative to greet him.


    Viserys ignored him. A pair of cold eyes fell on the following Erryk.


    "Kingsguard, would you tell your king what kind of offense it is to take a prince out of camp on a private trespass?"


    Erryk fell to his knees, his heart trembling with fear, "Your Majesty, it is indeed a crime of treason!"


    "Good, you remember thew of the realm, for a while I thought you no longer took it seriously."


    Viserysughed back in anger, "Men, drag this traitor down and cut off his head."


    He really was mad as hell.


    Daemon and the Sea Snake had started a war without his consent.


    The Small Council did not recognize his heir.


    His daughter, who loved him with all her heart, didn''t understand her old father''s good intentions.


    And now even the Kingsguard, who had sworn an oath of loyalty to him, dared to go against his wishes.


    To take his sickly eldest son deep into the Kingswood.


    What is he after?


    What else does he have the nerve to do?


    The lords and ministers will follow his example and challenge the king''s authority if he is not severely punished.


    Footsteps sounded outside the tent as Viserys gave the order.


    Erryk closed his eyes in resignation.


    He knew it was the guards at the door who hade to condemn him.


    Arryk, who had apanied the king downstairs, paled slightly. He gave Rhaegar a furtive wink.


    Despite the dishonor of the white robes on his body, the young prince was indeed his brother''s only saving grace at the moment.


    Rhaegar did not go back on his word.


    As soon as Viserys gave the order, he stepped in front of Erryk.


    Pretending to be confused, he said: "Father, why are you punishing Ser Erryk? There must be some mistake."


    Viserys showed him no sympathy, scolding, "Silence, do not think you can remain uninvolved because I have not mentioned you."


    "I have long since heard what happened from the mouth of the rider who fed the horse, Erryk failed in his task and you have a responsibility that cannot be avoided!"


    The expression on Rhaegar''s face froze, not realizing that his little trick had been seen through long ago.


    The guards entered the tent. They neatly stripped Erryk of his white robes and disarmed him of his sword.


    "Stop, you can''t do this to him."


    Rhaegar didn''t care, and he opened his hand to protect Erryk, who was on his knees, blocking the guards'' maneuvers to take him prisoner.


    "Unbridled, will you also go against the will of your father, the King?"


    Viserys shouted angrily, ordering the guards to bring Rhaegar down.


    "Release me, it is a treason to hold me before my father."


    Rhaegar broke free with such force that the guards dared not harm the King''s son. They could only hold Erryk, who was in no mood to resist.


    "Prince, please do not provoke the king any more."


    Seeing that the situation was getting more and more heated, the bound Erryk raised his voice in a low tone.


    He did not want to provoke the wrath of the king for himself, the condemned.


    He was not naive enough to expect a young prince to save him.


    It had urred to him on the way back that this would happen.


    "I said I''d take all the consequences. A Targaryen is a man of his word!"


    Rhaegar crashed through the guards in his way and stepped forward quickly, looking straight at his father with an angry expression on his face.


    He said loudly, "Father, I am healed, and Ser Erryk deserves the credit."


    Viserys snorted: "I only knew Erryk as a knight, I never knew he was also a healer."


    "Believe me, there was a white hart in the Kingswood that gave me a fruit that restored me to health."


    Emotions run high. Rhaegar throws out hard news in an attempt to win back Erryk''s judgment.


    At the mention of the white hart, a sh of skepticism shes under Viserys'' eyes: "A white hart cured you with a fruit?"


    Just yesterday, Hand of the King Lyonel reported that a white hart had been spotted in Kingswood.


    Jason Lannister, hoping to hunt the white hart with the weapon he gave him, also offered a goldennce.


    He did indeed enter the Kingswood to hunt, apanied by a crowd of people.


    But no white hart was seen, only an ordinary horned stag.


    His eldest son would have known nothing of this, for he had left the camp earlier.


    Then his words about meeting a white hart were most likely true.


    Rhaegar, unaware of his father''s myriad thoughts, said, "Yes, the snow-white stag offered me a fruit that could heal me."


    He concluded, "We have be friends!"


    "Ha-ha-ha. That''s one of the funniest jokes I''ve heard this year."


    Viserys, not believing his eldest son''s increasingly outrageous story, shook his head in derision.


    Rhaegar looked resolute, "Ser Erryk can testify for me, and you can ask the Maester who is with me for a diagnosis, and I assure you my body is returning to health."


    The confident words impressed Viserys. He looked at the silent Erryk in disbelief:


    "While you still have your armor on, Erryk, tell your king the truth."


    Erryk: "The prince speaks the truth!"


    Viserys nods slightly and then lowers his head in silence.


    No one knows what he is thinking.


    The tent falls silent for a moment. The breathing of the group is clearly audible.


    "Do you think what Rhaegar and your brother said is true?" Viserys asks Arryk after a moment.


    "I have as much faith in my brother as you have in your own children, Your Grace!"


    Arryk vouched for his brother without hesitation.


    Without further ado, Viserys ordered, "Go and summon the Maesters who were with you, including the physicians brought by the other nobles and knights, one by one."


    "At yourmand!"


    Arryk''s voice was loud and clear as he lifted the curtain and walked quickly out.


    The originally anxious atmosphere eased with this change of heart.


    The guards looked at each other in disbelief, then deliberately split in two to stand upright.


    Rhaegar asked Viserys, "Father, do you trust me?"


    "If it will make you well, I want what is said to be true."


    For the moment, Viserys was emotionally reserved in his examination of his young eldest son.


    In fact, he had a small amount of faith in Rhaegar''s words.


    Two months ago, after Rhaegar had made his usual examination, the Grand Maester had told him.


    "The prince''s heart failure is severe, and if there is any further deterioration, it will be difficult for him to live past the age of ten."


    His question had been whether there might be a cure.


    Unfortunately, organ failure is now a terminal disease.


    There was no cure, and there was no way to even relieve the symptoms.


    He had thought that this eldest son would not live long. Therefore, he avoided meeting him.


    He didn''t have the courage to face him as the boy''s father, even as a king.


    And yet.


    Just now he had been amazed at the way Rhaegar had reasoned with him.


    Even though the familiar little face was still pale.


    But the voice that came out of it was full of power.


    The aura emanating from his body, the power carried by the words he spoke.


    It was worthy of a descendant of the ancient Valyrians.

 Chapter 12: A Song of Ice and Fire

    Chapter 12: A Song of Ice and Fire


    Arryk did not keep the king waiting, eager to save his brother.


    It took only ten minutes for arge group of people to be brought up to the main tent.


    Viserys ordered them to examine Rhaegar, calming the anxious maesters and healers.


    Aplete examination of his body, from top to bottom, without missing a single strand of hair.


    The Maesters who were familiar with Rhaegar were no strangers to this sort of thing.


    Some assisted the Grand Maester in examining the frail prince from time to time.


    Once the equipment was in ce, the maesters were in charge of the procedure.


    It was a simple, rudimentary procedure.


    The first step was to draw his blood and observe the color and consistency of the sample.There was even a leech that was put in there to taste the blood and see if there were any toxins in it.


    As for the rest of it, there were all kinds of tricks.


    Large hands rubbing the body, examining skin, teeth, scalp...


    You''d be surprised. There''s nothing this group of physicians can''t do.


    What''s more, a dry and skinny old man has offered to take off Rhaegar''s pants and break open his buttocks in order to examine his anus.


    Viserys also condoned this behavior as a father.


    Rhaegar was horrified and regretted the rash decision he had made to allow his body to be inspected.


    Fortunately, after Rhaegar resisted, Erryk stepped in.


    With a punch that broke the dry, thin old man''s nose, he begged the king not to let anyone haunt the prince''s mind.


    "Even if you are going to hang me, please do not allow the prince to be humiliated!"


    Rhaegar nearly pissed himself as he hid behind Erryk, shaking with fear.


    Viserys did not reprimand Erryk and waved a few healers with little skill out of the way.


    A few decent maesters were left alone to do a unified report on Rhaegar''s physical condition.


    "Your Majesty, the prince''s health has indeed improved greatly, and his blood activity is far greater than usual," a maester dedicated to the royal family said first, with words of undisguised amazement.


    The rest of the maesters were in agreement as well.


    "The prince was suffering from shortness of breath, now the deep breathing test is very normal, there is no sounding from the chest cavity."


    "The urine is of a normal color, pale yellow but not cloudy, the smell only has a slight foul odor, the kidneys are recovering quickly..."


    "......"


    It was a good report, and Viserys listened to it.


    They were all rewarded with gold coins and the guards were ordered to take these Maesters to their quarters.


    For a time, only father and son and the Cargyll brothers remained.


    Rhaegar was the first to speak, "As the Maesters said, I have recovered thanks to Ser Erryk''s help."


    "He helped you, I shall do the same for him."


    "I''m d you''re healthy, and I won''t be speechless when I see your mother in heaven in the future,"mented Viserys, genuinely happy for his eldest son.


    "Father, I can''tfort you on behalf of Mother. I just hope you can move on."


    The mention of his mother, who had died in childbirth, made Rhaegar''s heart a little sour.


    Not only was the pain as sharp as a knife, but it was even more seamless.


    It always seemed to blow into the ears of those who didn''t want to remember it.


    Viserys felt guilty for the years he had forced his wife''s pregnancy, the cause of her death.


    How could Rhaegar, as a newborn born of a difficult birth, not have been a factor in the death of his mother?


    As a young boy, he heard the rumors that added fuel to the fire. He carried the same guilt in his heart.


    At the sight of his eldest son''s forlorn look, Viserys felt a pang in his heart for the sadness he had stirred in him.


    "Arryk, I''m going to talk to my son, take your brother and go, don''t let anyonee near the tent."


    Viserys ordered the Cargyll brothers to leave.


    "Yes, My King!"


    Arryk pulled his brother to guard the outside of the tent with a solemn face.


    Viserys stood and came to Rhaegar''s side, stroking the top of his head affectionately, with no outsiders to disturb him.


    "Were you scared just a moment ago?"


    "About what?"


    Rhaegar was at a loss for words.


    "Dr. Pollux, the old man who tried to take your pants off," Viserysughed maliciously.


    Rhaegar''s face turned green, "I will remember that name."


    "Oh, a superior man should have a broad mind, especially to the healer who is your medicine supplier."


    Viserys taught in a half-serious, half-teasingly manner.


    "That''s the king''s duty, I just want to blow his head off."


    Rhaegar would have none of that pretense of generosity, It wasn''t the king who almost had his pants taken off.


    "Let''s give the White Hart affair the benefit of the doubt, is it true that you only regained your health because you ate a magical fruit?"


    The conversation took a turn, and Viserys found himself thinking about the fruit his eldest son had mentioned.


    He had been cut by the Iron Throne, and the wound had never healed, no matter what kind of medicine he used on it.


    Over the past ten years, his body had been scarred, and many parts of his body were festering with pus.


    From moment to moment, his nerves were on edge with pain.


    If the White Hart really had that magical fruit, it might be able to heal his body.


    Of course, Rhaegar knew why his father had asked that question.


    "I''m not lying. The White Hart was willing toe near me and feed me the fruit that restored my health."


    Viserys''s face lit up, "Then, do you think you can still find the hart?"


    He was straightforward, "I think that magic fruit is very rare, it''s hard to get a second one, even if you find the hart, it might be useless."


    "How do we know there isn''t one if we don''t try?"


    Viserys was not ready to give up on the hope of a cure.


    Unwilling to betray his friend, Rhaegar bit out, "The White Hart is auspicious, and those close to it will be blessed."


    "On the other hand, those who dare to harm it will definitely be cursed."


    Viserys tried to read Rhaegar''s expression for clues and stared at him skeptically.


    Rhaegar''s face was as usual, meeting his stare calmly.


    Viserys gave up after half a second.


    Sighing, he said, "You''re right, I went hunting for the white hart yesterday and didn''t see even a shadow of it."


    Rhaegar was very surprised, not knowing such a thing had happened.


    "You''re luckier than I am to have won the friendship of the white hart," Viserys stroked the top of his head.


    He was at a loss for words. The hart was his friend, he couldn''t betray it.


    Besides, the fruit was a reward from the Explorer System, not the White Hart''s property.


    Even if he helped his father catch it, there was no fruit to heal him.


    Viserys was pleased in his eyes, and there was a verdict in his heart.


    The white hart symbolized kingship, and as king he had no chance of meeting it.


    It was more than a stroke of luck for Rhaegar to be able to see it.


    In spite of a thousand words in his heart, Viserys found himself admonishing himself.


    His son having a strange encounter was a rare and good thing!


    As he thought about it, a thought rose in Viserys'' heart.


    He took Rhaegar''s hand and walked over to the fire pit in the center of the tent.


    He drew the dragonhorn dagger from his waist and ced the de in the fire to Rhaegar''s puzzled eyes.


    When the de, forged of Valyrian steel, waspletely reddened by the heat, he grabbed the dragon horn handle and pulled it out.


    He held it up in front of Rhaegar''s eyes.


    "Have a good look, what do you see?"


    Viserys asked in an encouraging tone.


    Rhaegar looked at the reddish dagger. He saw many small words in the form of flies emerging from the searing me.


    "It''s written in Old Valyrian?"


    He quickly recognized the meaning, having some knowledge of Ancient Valyrian.


    Thinking he had not yet studied Ancient Valyrian yet, Rhaegar dared not reveal too much.


    Stumbling, he read, "Prophecy of...Bloodline, Song of Ice and Fire..."


    As he went on, Rhaegar pretended to be speechless and looked helplessly at Viserys.


    Viserys was not surprised, but rather pleasantly surprised that he was able to recognize a part of the ancient Valyriannguage.


    It seemed that the information he had received was correct, Rhaegar was indeed a child who loved to read.

 Chapter 13: Plausible Answers

    Chapter 13: usible Answers


    "It''s the prophecy of the Song of Ice and Fire."


    Viserys patiently exined: "Before Aegon died, he left this dagger, where thest fire mage of Valyria hid the song."


    "To know this is an obligation, and a heavy one."


    "More important than the throne and the king, more important than anything!"


    He spoke, watching Rhaegar every move.


    The shadows of father and son stretched and magnified under the bright firelight.


    As the wind blew, the mes were in a constant state of twist and change.


    "A Song of Ice and Fire?" blinked Rhaegar, at a loss for words. "I thought that was a superstition invented in books."


    In fact, he was familiar with the Song of Ice and Fire.When he explored that dagger earlier, the system announcement mentioned that the Song of Ice and Fire was written in the de.


    And the relics obtained from exploring was called "The Sage''s Warning".


    Now it seemed to have a deeper meaning than that.


    Viserys said gruffly, "The prophecy is true, and I hope you will keep it in mind and be on your guard against the unknown darkness and the cold."


    "I will do that, Father."


    Rhaegar was not certain, but he realized what was at stake between them.


    Viserys paced around the fire pit and said hesitantly: "I asked Rhaenyra a question once. Would you like to know what it was?"


    "What was that question?"


    Rhaegar asked unconsciously as his father''s words grew deeper and Rhaegar couldn''t hear them.


    "It was about dragons, about dragons!"


    Havinge to this point, Viserys had no reason to stop and went on, "Dragons are ancient creatures that have been with the Targaryen family since the days of ancient Valyria, both great and imperfect."


    "How do you feel about that?"


    Rhaegar shook his head, "My dragon egg has yet to hatch, my sister refuses to let me ride a dragon, and the closest I''ve evere to a dragon is still Balerion''s skull."


    As a Targaryen, he did have a dragon egg of his own.


    It was from a dragon named Dreamfire.


    Before he was born, Rhaenyra had personally chosen it in the dragon''s Pit.


    After all these years, the dragon''s egg had never shown any sign of hatching.


    Not caring about that, Viserys pointed out: "It doesn''t matter, all you have to do is say what you think about dragons."


    The look on his father''s face was serious.


    Rhaegar knew it was important to say something.


    He thought of Balerion''s massive skull.


    Even with the loss of scales and flesh and blood, the sense of oppression from the direct sight of that skull was still there.


    And the egg of the dragon that belonged to him.


    It withstood the heat and had a solid shell even after being ced in a special furnace.


    It was a far cry from the bird''s eggs and the others kinds of eggs he had seen before.


    Lastly, Rhaenyra.


    At the age of 7, she had be a dragon rider, able to fly with her dragon.


    Every time he was in sight of her, and every time he was near her.


    There was a faint stench of sulfur that Rhaegar could smell.


    He had no doubt that it was the smell of dragons.


    After thinking for a while, Rhaegar collected his words and replied, "Dragons are the most powerful controble weapon in the world today, and Aegon the Conqueror, though he possessed amazing wisdom and courage, united the seven kingdoms on the back of a dragon."


    "Dragons are dangerous, but it is only by riding them that a Targaryen can rise above themon people."


    "Otherwise we are doomed to be overthrown from the Iron Throne."


    Those were sincere words.


    It was also the most objective opinion that he was able to give at the moment.


    Viserys listened attentively, a hint of relief on his face, and asked again: "If the day everes when you harness a giant dragon and face a rebellion of the ungodly, how should you respond?"


    "Burn them to ashes!"


    Without thinking, Rhaegar spat the sentence out.


    "You were saying that dragons are dangerous?"


    Viserys frowned.


    Rhaegar did not know how he was wrong, "But without dragons, only the might of the Targaryens will not be able to stop rebels."


    "If necessary, dragons me can burn those who disobey. So there will only be one voice on the continent of Westeros."


    Upon hearing the will of his eldest son, Viserys fell into a state of silence.


    Subjectively speaking, Rhaegar was right.


    For the Targaryens to be kings of the Seven Kingdoms, the help of dragons was essential.


    But when he thought of the prophecy of the Song of Ice and Fire, he knew.


    He would not be willing to put too much reliance on the dragons.


    Ancient Valyria fell because they could never satisfy their greed and thirst for domination, inviting a natural catastrophe.


    He remembered a few years ago, on the eve of establishing Rhaenyra as his sessor.


    He had asked her the very same question.


    Rhaenyra''s answer had not been far from Rhaegar''s first.


    But Rhaenyra has a much more thorough view of the rtionship between dragons and the Targaryens.


    She doesn''t think that harnessing a dragon is going to give her everything.


    Her character is simr to Viserys, her father. Both disliked war and were strict with themselves.


    On the contrary, Rhaegar''s response is more like that of a man.


    Daemon Targaryen.


    His own brother.


    In fact, for a time he had Daemon in mind as his heir.


    Putting aside the scandalous things Daemon had done, showing disloyalty and dishonoring himself.


    Daemon was very extreme in his views of dragons.


    A dragon was a sharp sword that he held.


    As the saying goes: When you have a sharp weapon in your hand, your murderous spirit will increase along with it.


    With a weapon like that in his hand, which was unparalleled in the world, sooner orter he would have no control over his desires, and he would take the initiative to start a war.


    Jealousy red in Viserys'' heart for some reason.


    At Rhaegar''s puzzled look, he didn''t move and said: "I already understand what you mean, don''t forget the prophecy of the Song of Ice and Fire, go down and rest first."


    Rhaegar did not pursue the question and said knowingly: "Okay, you drink less wine too, Father."


    Viserys had a friendly smile on his face as he left the tent.


    His face was blurred in the dim light of the fire.


    ...


    Out of the tent, the noon sun beat down on him.


    It blinded Rhaegar''s eyes.


    A shadow shrouded them and blocked out the blinding light for him.


    "Ser Arryk."


    Rhaegar cocked his head to get a better look at the person who was blocking out the light.


    Arryk pulled his white robe over the young prince''s head with one hand and said sincerely: "Thank you for interceding on my brother''s behalf, Prince."


    Rhaegar shook his head gently, "Don''t say that, I forced Erryk to take me out of camp, he shouldn''t take the me."


    "The Kingswood guards follow the King''s orders, my brother''s failure to do so was a big mistake."


    Arryk was a very resourceful man, and came to understand the ce this Prince held in the King''s heart, and came to respect that.


    "What about Ser Erryk?"


    Rhaegar asked.


    Arryk said: "There was amotioning from the camp just now, and he went to check on the situation."


    "There''s amotion, then I''ll have a look at it, too."


    Rhaegar became interested, not forgetting to urge: "My father is still inside, Ser, pay more attention."


    "Well, duty calls."


    Arryk raised his hand in a salute.


    ......


    Outside the king''s tent, Rhaegar didn''t join the crowd.


    Instead, he picked his way through the various tables of snacks and roasted meats. He ate a quick meal.


    In his haste, he had only a few sips of water.


    "Rhaegar!"


    Rhaenyra''s voice came from behind him as he waited around a grill.


    Rhaegar''s head snapped to attention and he was startled.


    Rhaenyra was covered in blood, her silvery hair ckened with dried blood, as if she had just been fighting.


    "Rhaenyra, how did you get to be like this?"


    He ran forward with his short legs, not caring about eating the meat.


    "I was looking for you yesterday. Unfortunately, I couldn''t find you."


    Rhaenyra pped him on the head and threatened: "You have to call me sister, not Rhaenyra, and you shouldn''t be running around."


    "What''s the point of all this pretending now? Where are you hurt, is it serious?"


    Rhaegar worriedly checked to see where she got hurt.


    Rhaenyra picked up her chin and said proudly: "It''s not my blood, I''m not hurt."

 Chapter 14: The Breakbones Harwin Strong

    Chapter 14: The Breakbones Harwin Strong


    "A boar attacked me and I butchered it."


    Rhaenyra rubbed Rhaegar''s head, sounding proud as she spoke.


    "Wow, such a brave boar hunterdy are."


    The words shed through Rhaegar''s mind like a shback.


    Rhaenyra turned pale in an instant.


    Just as Rhaegar was about to suffer the wrath of his sister''s, a voice broke the intimacy between the siblings.


    "Princess, I heard you had to deal with a wild boar all on your own?"


    The voice came from the side of the barbecue grill.


    The siblings looked simultaneously and saw a burly man with brown curly hair and a thick beard.The other''s features made Rhaegar feel familiar.


    But the two parties had never met each other before.


    "Just a coincidence, Ser Harwin," Rhaenyra smiled politely, recognizing the other party.


    At the mention of the Strong family name, Rhaegar had an epiphany.


    He realized where the familiarity hade from.


    The one that made him uneasy, Larys Strong.


    Rhaenyra noticed his look and whispered: "He is the eldest son of the Master of Coin Lyonel, a very famous knight known as the Breakbones."


    "The Breakbones? He would break the bones of those he fought?"


    Rhaegar questioned half-jokingly.


    Harwinughed as he skinned a pigeon and replied: "That''s right, during a sparring match I smashed an unfortunate man''s skull with my warhammer, and those who survived gave me the nickname Bone Breaker."


    "Impressive, it seems that you are a very powerful warrior indeed."


    He replied lightly. It wasn''t hard to hear the other''s pride in his tone.


    A knight with such an intimidating title certainly had the capital to be proud of himself.


    Nimbly handling the pigeon, Harwin casually picked up a rag to wipe his hands and went up to joke:


    "My roasted meat is good. I just saw the prince eating quite a bit, I wonder if the princess would like some?"


    When he spoke, this tall and stocky man spoke in a humorous manner and had an easy-going temperament.


    It was hard to imagine him crushing someone''s head in battle.


    "No, my father is still waiting for me, no one can say no to the king," Rhaenyra smiled apologetically and politely declined.


    "That''s fine, I''ll be serving in King''s Landing for a long time toe. If the princess wants to taste my handiwork, you''re always wee to visit."


    Harwin was very reasonable, which meant he was approachable without being overly solicitous.


    Rhaegar had a glimpse of something in him.


    Respect.


    Of course, the older Rhaenyra was able to see it as well.


    "Will do, Ser," she said slightly ufortably, her hands going behind her back and her smile bing much more sincere.


    Without further interruption, Halwyn smiled and curtsied.


    This action further increased Rhaenyra''s favor.


    Rhaegar was puzzled and bristled as he looked at his somewhat reserved sister.


    "I''m going to see Father. You just hang around."


    Rhaenyra had to see Viserys, there was no time for more chitchat, and she walked away quickly.


    By this time, a number of princes and nobles were in the camp, and the bloodied princess was the focus of attention.


    The boisterous scene quieted down for a moment, and remained uncharacteristically silent.


    Such measuring gazes disgusted Rhaenyra greatly.


    Coldly, she walked past, asionally stopping to stare at a few.


    Mostly, the princess''s aura overwhelmed the bystanders.


    Forcing those with weak hearts to lower their heads. Not daring to meet her eyes.


    Despising those who were cowardly, the corner of Rhaenyra''s mouth curled up slightly.


    Rhaegar pursed his lips and seemed to experience loneliness as she looked back at the crowd.


    ......


    Kingswood''s hunt was over.


    Viserys was the first to board a carriage and return to King''s Landing.


    Considering the misdeeds of the siblings who had gone missing, this father decided to punish each one separately.


    The princess was of marriageable age, but she did not like the man the king had chosen for her.


    Viserys risked his blood and arranged for Rhaenyra to visit and tour the continent alone.


    On the bright side, as heir to the crown, Rhaenyra can visit lords great and small of the realms, strengthening the bannermen''s bond with her.


    Demonstration of the majesty of the Targaryen royal family.


    In reality, this was indeed the case.


    Since bing heir, Rhaenyra had mostly been just a voice in political affairs. No real power to speak of.


    No familiarity with the lords whom had sworn allegiance to her.


    Viserys wanted to increase Rhaenyra''s presence this time, so that the bannermen would be more epting of her as heir.


    Have Rhaenyra, as heir apparent, visit the great and small lords of the realms to strengthen the bannermen''s bond with her.


    To show the majesty of the Targaryen royal family.


    In fact, that was the case.


    Since bing the heir, Rhaenyra had mostly been a voice in political affairs.


    No real power.


    Two with no familiarity with the lords she swore allegiance to.


    Viserys increased Rhaenyra''s presence this time so that the bannermen would better ept this heir.


    While aplishing this purpose, there will also be tournaments and wine banquets to be held in each of the cities.


    Taking advantage of the opportunity to help Rhaenyra in her search for a marriage partner.


    In Viserys'' opinion, Rhaenyra won''t be able to ept the candidate he has chosen, so let her choose for herself.


    You will be able to choose from all over the kingdom.


    I don''t think there''s no one worth choosing.


    You can see how seriously this father took the wedding of his daughter.


    With eldest daughter''s problem was solved. The eldest son, Rhaegar, was in a better position.


    Viserys ordered Rhaegar to continue living in the Red Keep, not allowed to step outside the Red Keep''s door, in order to recuperate from his illness.


    For this reason, several maesters were sent to check on his health at regr intervals.


    They wanted to make sure that his illness waspletely cured.


    Rhaegar, of course, refused the restrictions on his personal freedom.


    After some argument, Viserys was of the opinion that his eldest son was ready for learning.


    To teach him to read and write, he sent two Old Maesters.


    Every day at six o''clock, he was forced to get out of bed and begin a cycle of eight hours of education, followed the next day by a check of the suffering boy''s homework.


    Rhaegar went numb.


    Viserys was not treating him at all like a child who was recovering from a serious illness.


    With a "learn or die" attitude.


    Rhaegar''s originally pale face improved under this kind of training.


    However, the dark circles under his eyes became more pronounced day by day, more so than they had been before.


    "Damned Maesters, damned Citadel, sooner orter I will get back at you!"


    Faced with the harsh training of the two Old Maesters, Rhaegar practiced writing while secretly making up his mind.


    Rhaegar asked Viserys when he would get his freedom back.


    The answer he received was, "When your sister returns to King''s Landing, you will be able to walk out of the Red Keep."


    So it was that Rhaenyra''s thoughts about Rhaenyra were iparably intense.


    He was too much in need of his sister!


    I hope youe back soon.


    ...


    Time passed, and half a year went by.


    As the leaves turned yellow, King''s Landing enteredte autumn.


    As a seaside city, King''s Landing''s climate did not change much, except that farmers were busier in the fields.


    Good news came to Rhaegar who was in the Red Keep.


    His sister, whom he waited for day and night, was returning.


    Rhaenyra had finished traveling early and had boarded a ship to leave the Stornds, and she would be back in King''s Landing in a few days.


    Regardless of what others thought, Rhaegar was overjoyed.


    Every day after sses ended, he sat before the ss window in the Red Castle''s attic and gazed out over the sea.


    He was expecting to see Rhaenyra''s returning ship.


    "This is great, my sister ising back atst, my days of bitterness are finally over."


    Rhaegar was brokenhearted about the past six months.


    He was fond of reading.


    But when he was weak and had no other activities, it was a forced way to pass the time.


    It wasn''t the same as reading behind closed doors like in a prison.


    "Prince, the king was furious when he heard that the princess had returned to her journey without permission, so you''d better keep that to yourself."


    There was another voiceing from the attic.


    He didn''t have to look to know who it was.


    A silver-armored and white-robed Erryk was standing in front of another window, his posture as straight as a spear.


    "Ser, it''s not like you don''t know my daily routine, do you have no grief for me?"


    Rhaegar scolded.


    Erryk couldn''t help butugh: "The King expects you to acquire knowledge, but eight hours of lessons plus homework after school does seem a little too much."

 Chapter 15: Dreamfyre’s Egg

    Chapter 15: Dreamfyre��s Egg


    "Those two old bastards are just plotting to murder a young prince," he whispered.


    Remembering this, Rhaegar felt a surge of anger, itching to strike the two old Maesters squarely in their dried-up heads, hoping to uncover a treasure trove of answers buried within their skulls, filled with nothing but knowledge.


    Erryk, indifferent to the king''s teaching arrangements for the prince, simply smiled without uttering a word.


    It had been six months since they had seen or heard from each other since the conclusion of the Kingswood Hunt.


    Just a few days prior, Viserys had informed Rhaegar of Rhaenyra''s return from her travels, and he had dispatched Erryk to stand guard by Rhaegar''s side, swearing to ensure the safety of the King''s eldest son and to fulfill all assigned tasks.


    Rhaegar remained unaware of his father''s intentions, but with a dependable Kingsguard like Erryk by his side, why would he refuse the offer?


    Their shared experiences had forged a bond between them, and the stern knight could even lighten Rhaegar''s mood with a few harmless jests now and then.


    "I am weary, Ser," Rhaegar admitted after they had rested for a while, before deciding to retreat to his chambers, with Erryk trailing behind.


    The duty of the Kingsguard extended only to safeguarding the king and his household; they would not intrude upon the prince''s personal quarters, but would stand vigil at the door.Upon returning to his chambers, Rhaegar''s first stop was the firece, where a stove-like container had been ced.


    Opening the lid, he was greeted by a rush of hot air. Peering inside, he beheld a dragon egg, dark in color and adorned with a diamond-shaped pattern��the very egg that once belonged to him.


    As he gingerly touched the heated surface of the egg, a pang of sorrow washed over Rhaegar. "Still dormant. When will the dragon hatch? Perhaps fortune has yet to smile upon me," he sighed,menting his luck.


    Rhaegar''s dragon egg had remained stubbornly inert for six long years, showing no signs of hatching. Yet, out of habit, he continued to stroke the egg and engage in conversations with it, hoping against hope that his attentiveness might somehow coax it to hatch.


    Feeling parched from his one-sided discourse with the dormant egg, Rhaegar closed the lid of the container, concluding today''s session of conversation.


    Pouring himself a cup of hot water, he muttered to himself, "Thank the gods Aegon''s foolish dragon egg didn''t hatch either, or I''d be utterly embarrassed."


    Rhaegar''s spirits lifted considerably at the thought that his brother''s egg had shared the same fate. While it was regrettable that his own egg had not hatched, the prospect of his brother''s dragon egg failing to hatch as well eased his disappointment.


    ...


    Days turned into weeks, and the sun rose and set as time marched on.


    Finally, Rhaenyra returned to King''s Landing.


    Viserys was notably absent, leaving Queen Alicent to lead the princess and her entourage out of the city to greet her.


    As if they hadn''t seen each other in years, Rhaenyra and Alicent embraced warmly, exchangingughter and conversation under the watchful gaze of their subjects.


    The heartwarming scene elicited cheers and apuse from the crowd.


    With Rhaenyra''s return, Rhaegar''s grounding order was automatically lifted, and he found himself included in the weing party.


    Observing the exchange between the two women, Rhaegar couldn''t help but inquire privately to Erryk, "Are women always like this when they''re not on good terms?"


    ncing around discreetly, Erryk lowered his voice. "Mostly, yes. The Queen and the Princess are both formidable figures among women, which makes their discord all the more daunting."


    "For power? But my sister is already the heiress," Rhaegar remarked, struggling toprehend.


    Shaking his head solemnly, Erryk replied, "Discussing matters concerning the royal family is a sensitive subject. All I can say is, tread carefully."


    "Am I at risk as well? I have no ambitions for the throne," Rhaegar queried.


    "I cannot say for certain, but as the old adage goes, it''s better to be safe than sorry," Erryk responded meaningfully.


    Rhaegar smiled gratefully. "Then I entrust my safety to you, Ser."


    "As duty dictates," Erryk affirmed solemnly.


    With the bustling crowd around them, Rhaegar and Erryk refrained from further conversation, apanying the two central figures of the asion��the heroines of this journey, Rhaenyra and Alicent.


    It wasn''t until evening fell that the throng began to filter through the gates of the Red Keep.


    Despite his displeasure at Rhaenyra''s unauthorized return, Viserys spared no expense in weing her, organizing a grand banquet in her honor.


    Disliking the chaos, Rhaegar hastily partook of some pastries and dishes before retreating from the table, clutching the gifts Rhaenyra had bestowed upon him.


    ...


    The primary beneficiary of Rhaenyra''s return was undoubtedly Rhaegar.


    Not only was he afforded the opportunity to explore beyond the confines of the Red Keep, but his daily lessons were also significantly reduced.


    No longer obligated to endure eight hours of study, Rhaegar now had only three hours in the morning, leaving the remainder of his day free.


    Even the burdensome homework was waived, much to Rhaegar''s delight. He greeted Rhaenyra with two enthusiastic kisses upon her visits, reveling in the newfound freedom.


    Such days continued blissfully for a time.


    However, the Red Keep soon buzzed with activity once more, as it marked the fifth wedding anniversary of King Viserys and Queen Alicent.


    With a grand gesture, Viserys opted tomemorate the asion with avish tournament, intending to express his gratitude to Alicent for five years ofpanionship.


    He extended invitations to nobles and knights from across the realm, offering generous prizes to incentivize participation and hoping for a thrilling disy of martial prowess.


    Regardless of Alicent''s sentiments, Viserys harbored a deep affection for suchbative spectacles, inherited from his grandfather, King Jaehaerys, who had amassed considerable wealth for the Royal Treasury.


    Under Viserys''s patronage, banquets and tournaments becamemonce urrences in the Red Keep, wlessly organized by Alicent.


    As the fifth anniversary festivities approached, the taverns of King''s Landing brimmed with activity, and the tournament unfolded as anticipated.


    Rumors circted of a surge in business at the brothels, with noble lords eagerly participating in bloodsport and revelry alike.


    ...


    On the day of the tournament, Alicent hosted a sumptuous banquet for the guests, who indulged in the brutal contests presided over by Viserys.


    Once the excitement waned, they retired to the nearby banquet hall to feast and carouse.


    Rhaegar and Rhaenyra upied seats at Viserys''s main table, observing the tournament below.


    In the arena, a knightly charge was underway, with two armored knights on horseback colliding head-on, wielding sharpnces.


    As the sh unfolded, a ck-armored knight skillfully aimed hisnce at his opponent''s shoulder, resulting in a devastating blow that sent the opposing knight tumbling to the ground in agony.


    Witnessing the gruesome spectacle, Rhaegar recoiled in horror as Erryk provided a grim assessment of the injured knight''s condition.


    "There''s an eighty percent chance his shoulder de is shattered. Without timely treatment, he''ll likely be left with a lifelong disability," Erryk murmured, his voice low.


    Rhaegar winced at the sight, noting the knight''s mangled arm dangling uselessly by his side.


    "It''s a cruel reminder of the harsh realities ofbat," Erryk continued, attempting to impart a lesson to the young prince. "In martial contests, winners are often separated from losers by the brutal consequences of battle."


    Struggling toprehend the purpose of such a tournament, Rhaegar voiced his discontent.


    "The realm enjoys a time of peace, yet these men willingly subject themselves to such dangers," hemented.


    Erryk nodded sympathetically. "The youth seek recognition, and in times of peace, tournaments provide an outlet for their passion and a chance to earn favor from the king."

 Chapter 16: The Dornishman

    Chapter 16: The Dornishman


    "You''re right, Ser," Rhaegar concurred.


    Speechless, Rhaegar continued to watch the bloody tournament unfold before him.


    "Hungry," he muttered to Rhaenyra, rising from his seat and making his way towards the banquet hall. The pointless fighting had robbed him of his appetite, and he desperately sought some fruit to ease his fatigue.


    Erryk simply shrugged and apanied him.


    ...


    The charge session ended, concluding with mounted archery, meleebat, and duels.


    As the dust settled from the blood and guts, attention turned to the duels.


    The rules were straightforward: two opponents in armor, armed with weapons, engaging in unlimitedbat until one concedes defeat or death. This wasmonly known as singlebat.


    The first two duels proved to be thrilling spectacles, with knights wielding swords, hammers, and iron and steel in a riveting disy ofbat prowess.Thanks to the sturdy protection afforded by their armor, injuries were mostly superficial, unlikely to cause disability or death.


    The duelists on the field were not fools. They fought for honor and gold, knowing well that most nobles preferred their entertainment without fatalities. Why risk fighting to the death when a spirited performance could earn cheers and apuse from the noble spectators?


    It was often difficult for the audience to discern whether thebat was genuine or staged.


    The anticipation mounted as the third duel approached.


    On one side stood Bart of Iron Oaks from the Vale, known as the Knight of the Hammer. Towering and rugged, he was d in silver and gray armor, wielding a hammer in one hand and a shield in the other.


    Opposing him was a young man with brown skin, lightly armored and armed with ance. It was evident that he hailed from Dorne.


    Although Aegon the Conqueror held dominion over the Seven Kingdoms, the Dornish people never acknowledged the authority of the Targaryen dynasty and remained in constant rebellion.


    It wasn''t until a few years before Aegon I''s death that Prince Martell of the Dornish kingdoms sent a representative to initiate reconciliation between the two sides, effectively ending the conflict between the Targaryens and the Dornish.


    However, while the formal war had ceased, sporadic disputes persisted. The fierce Dornish frequently raided neighboring territories, perpetuating trouble for the kingdom.


    Observing the Dornish faces below, Rhaenyra''s boredom gave way to intrigue.


    "I didn''t expect a Dornish warrior to participate in this tournament," she remarked.


    Turning to Cole, herpanion, she inquired curiously, "Who do you think will emerge victorious?"


    Cole chuckled, replying, "We haven''t seen them fight yet; it''s too early to make predictions."


    "It''s said that the Dornish are ferocious and warlike,beled as bloodthirsty barbarians. I wonder if there''s truth to that," Rhaenyra mused, her interest piqued.


    As the referee sounded his horn, signaling the start of the duel, Bart concealed his face under his helmet, gripping his hammer tightly as he advanced cautiously, wary of his opponent.


    He had heard the rumors surrounding the Dornish��tales of their fierceness and ruthlessness.


    He dared not underestimate them; who knew if they would show mercy?


    In stark contrast, the Dornish youth moved with fluid grace, pacing confidently with his spear, his words dripping with provocation: "Foolish giant, why wield a broken hammer when you could have forged iron at the smithy?"


    As they exchanged words, bothbatants disyed agile body movements, constantly exerting psychological pressure on each other.


    Bart,cking battlefield experience and less adept at controlling his emotions, struggled to contain his anger after being insulted.


    "Brown-skinned monkey, I hope your brain is as resilient as your tongue, or it''ll be crushed under my hammer," he retorted.


    Seizing an opportunity as his opponent leaped, Bart advanced with an arrow-step, swinging his hammer in a sweeping motion fueled by momentum.


    Spectators outside the arena watched intently, anticipating the spectacle of bloodshed.


    "Idiot, you''re too slow," the Dornish youth taunted, rolling to evade Bart''s hammer strike.


    Swiftly halting his roll, he thrust his weapon into the vulnerable juncture of Bart''s leg armor, eliciting a gush of blood.


    "Ah! Damn Dornishman!" Bart howled in pain, his fury ignited, eager to crush his opponent''s skull with his warhammer.


    But the Dornish youth proved elusive, evading Bart''s strikes with the agility of a rolling donkey. With a quick jerk, he drew hisnce and stabbed once more at the weak spot in Bart''s hip.


    Pfft...


    A sharp pain seared through Bart''s hip as he stumbled, falling to his knees, blood seeping from his armor.


    Rather than capitalizing on his victory, the Dornish youth looked down at the fallen Bart with a mocking smirk.


    "Knight of the Vale, it seems you harbor ill will towards us Dornishmen," he quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.


    "You call me a brown-skinned ape, so what does that make you, people of the Vale?" the Dornish youth retorted, pulling hisnce from his opponent''s wound amidst the wails of agony.


    "Hairless goats?" he added, tauntingly.


    Struggling to rise, Bart was kicked back to the ground by his adversary, humiliation engulfing him as he cried out, "Vile Dornishman, have the courage to face me head-on instead of leaping around like a monkey!"


    "Hahaha, what a clever retort, inviting a challenge to one''s strengths with one''s weaknesses," the Dornish youth remarked, his teasing evident. "Do you ask your enemies to reveal themselves in battle, Valley Goat?"


    "Damn you to hell, you bastard!" Bart, consumed by rage, seized the opportunity presented by his opponent''s words, swinging his hammer in a tight arc, aiming to shatter his foe''s ankle.


    But the Dornish youth, ever vignt, evaded the nned ambush with a deft jump. In the ensuing melee, thence pierced through Bart''s right hand, slicing off his palm and eliciting a scream of agony.


    Bang!


    Before Bart''s cry subsided, the Dornish youth drove his knee into Bart''s jaw, silencing him with a choke.


    Ripping off Bart''s helmet, the Dornish youth exposed his vulnerable head, a cruel smile ying on his lips as he delivered a vicious kick to Bart''s mouth.


    Teeth, mingled with blood, filled Bart''s mouth as he let out a desperate whimper.


    Copsing to the ground, Bart''s body convulsed slightly from the trauma inflicted upon his head.


    The Dornish youth pressed his spear against Bart''s throat, addressing the crowd of onlookers with a triumphant promation, "Witness! Behold the valor of this knight of the Vale, refusing to yield."


    As he spoke, hisrge feet encased in thick leather boots mercilessly trampled Bart''s face, grinding it back and forth.


    The spectators, witnessing this brutal scene, paled in shock. What had begun as a simple duel had escted into a one-sided, sadistic spectacle of violence.


    Breaking his opponent''s teeth and denying him the opportunity to surrender was not merely victory but utter cruelty.


    King Viserys, his face turning blue with rage, turned to Council Member Lyonel standing beside him, his re piercing.


    "What manner of dishonorable brute from Dorne shows no respect or mercy? He''s making a mockery of all present!"


    Wiping away imaginary sweat with a handkerchief, Lyonel attempted to exin, "Your Majesty, the Dornishman in the arena goes by the name of Degas Orl��ans. When he registered for the tournament, he expressed great admiration for you and sought to provide an impressive performance."


    "And this is his idea of an impressive performance?" Viserys seethed with anger. "The Dornish have never shown gratitude. He should be arrested for his insolence and thrown into the darkest dungeon until his dying breath!"


    "I beg your forgiveness, Your Majesty," Lyonel bowed his head in shame. "At this point, all we can hope for is that he swiftly dispatches the Bart Knight and minimizes any further disgrace."


    "How can you speak so callously?" Viserys retorted coldly, no longer able to ignore the situation.


    Meanwhile, inside the arena, the Dornish youth continued his frenzied antics, oblivious to the turmoil he had caused.


    "I''ve heard there are many formidable warriors in the Vale. How is it possible that this knight is so feeble?" The Dornish addressed the crowd. "Could it be that someone epted a bribe to allow him entry?"


    The spection rippled through the spectators, casting doubt on Bart''s capabilities and raising suspicions of foul y.

 Chapter 17: Inciting Public Wrath

    Chapter 17: Inciting Public Wrath


    Pointing at the delirious Bart, the Dornish youth sneered, "This knight appears rather unkind to me, and even more discriminatory toward our people of Dorne."


    "It''s unjust," he continued as hisnce sliced off one of Bart''s ears. "I''ve heard it said that the women of the Vale are no better looking than goats. Is there any truth to that?"


    "To be frank, I haven''t had the pleasure of bedding a woman from the Vale, so I cannot attest to whether they are less attractive than goats," he taunted, delivering a kick to Bart''s head. "Hey, Knight of the Vale, what''s your take on this? Give me a clue."


    Bart, now bleeding and dizzy from multiple wounds, struggled to speak. The Dornish, unfazed, crouched down, seizing Bart by the hair and forcing him upright. "If you have something to say, say it louder," he mocked.


    "Cough... you bastard...Dorne..monkey..." Bart managed to cough out between bloody spits, his lips contorted in a feeble attempt at cursing.


    Enraged by the filth, the Dornish youth refrained from delivering a swift death. Instead, he subjected Bart to a prolonged torture, using hisnce to inflict agonizing wounds upon his limbs, twisting and turning the weapon in flesh and blood.


    The torment endured for ten grueling hours until Bart could bear no more. Finally, the tip of the spear pierced his throat, putting an end to his suffering.


    "Cursed Dornishmen, you will pay for your sins!" came the enraged cry.


    Suddenly, a curse rang out from the seats outside the arena, followed by the sound of an empty wine ss shattering as it collided with the muddy ground.The profanity acted as a catalyst, inciting more and more spectators to rise from their seats, hurling curses and projectiles at the Dornish youths below.


    Wine sses, apples, tes��anything within reach��became ammunition in the crowd''s fury, with even a few women''s high heels joining the barrage.


    Among the onlookers stood Rhaenyra, her expression impassive as she watched the Dornish youths evade and mock the onught from above.


    As a princess of the realm, Rhaenyra had never harbored affection for the Dornish people. Furthermore, her mother, Aemma Arryn, hailed from a family that staunchly defended the Vale.


    The brazen mistreatment of loyal Vale knights and the mocking of Vale women by the Dornish youth only fueled Rhaenyra''s simmering rage.


    "Cole, descend and challenge him to a duel. I want him dead," Rhaenyramanded, turning to herpanion.


    Cole looked torn. "I am at your service, Princess, and this Dornishman''s actions are indeed despicable. But as a member of the Kingsguard, I cannot engage in a duel without the King''s orders."


    "Then I will find someone who can," Rhaenyra dered dismissively, striding toward Viserys.


    Approaching her father, she lowered her voice. "Father, this man''s arrogance is intolerable, and he is insulting the realm. I can have Cole challenge him, and justice will be served for Knight Bart''s death."


    Already irritated, Viserys responded curtly.


    Although he acknowledged his daughter''s suggestion, Viserys remainedposed and advised, "Let us wait a moment. There are many brave knights in the realm, and the Kingsguard must not be overstepped. We should afford the young ones an opportunity to showcase their skills."


    Rhaenyra was tempted to argue, but ultimately held her tongue.


    The match continued, and Lyonel intervened to quell the crowd''s hostility towards the Dornish.


    In front of the spectators, the young Dornishman taunted, "The Knights of the Vale are no match for me. Are there any true fighters among you? I seek worthy opponents, not cowards and weaklings."


    He chuckled arrogantly, provoking further ire.


    "I''ll ept your challenge!" dered a middle-aged knight d in silver-gray armor, stepping forward.


    Advancing into the tournament arena with a longsword in hand, he announced in a deep voice, "I am Ser Balot of the Stornds. Allow me to teach you the importance of respect."


    The Dornish youth responded with a yful smile, "Is that so? I look forward to seeing your prowess, Ser Balot."


    Meanwhile, in the banquet hall, tables wereden with sumptuous food, and noblewomen engaged in lively conversation reminiscent of a tea party.


    Rhaegar sat alone at a table, a te of pastries before him, leaving a sizable gap where one particr confection rested.


    "What are these called?" he mused aloud, referring to the egg-shaped cakes resembling chocte chip cookies, sweet and chewy.


    "These are delightful. Who made them?" Rhaegar eximed with raised eyebrows, thoroughly enjoying the treat.


    "No, when I return, I must ask Alicent which cook is responsible for these delightful pastries and request them in the future," Rhaegar resolved to himself as he enjoyed his snack.


    While he indulged, a stranger suddenly took a seat beside him, cing a te of chocte pastries before himself and relishing them with evident pleasure.


    Rhaegar''s confusion gave way to irritation. "Who is this person helping themselves to my pastries?" he thought, though he refrained from speaking, as there were still several tes left.


    Yet, reality taught Rhaegar a valuable lesson: ignoring a source of annoyance only invites further vexation.


    As he took a few more bites, the intruder swiftly devoured the remaining pastries, leaving no te untouched.


    "These taste exquisite. A skilled cook indeed," the interloper murmured, swiftly moving on to another te without awaiting a response.


    te after te disappeared in rapid session, until only one remained.


    Unable to endure it any longer, Rhaegar rose from his seat, guarding thest te of pastries before him, and demanded loudly, "Do you know who I am? How dare you pilfer my pastries? Have you no respect?"


    His words rang out with authority, but s, his youth betrayed him. With his soft voice and increasingly rounded features, he seemed more akin to a child ying make-believe.


    The intruder scratched his head in bemusement, offering a sheepish smile. "You are a prince, yes, but aren''t these pastries meant for all the guests to enjoy?"


    Rhaegar''s frustration intensified. "Even knowing I am a prince, you still dare to steal my pastries?"


    "You won''t even relinquish thest te to a child, have you no shame?" Rhaegar scolded, his frustration mounting.


    "Uh..." the other party faltered.


    "There''s no age limit when ites to food. Besides, Prince, you''re still young. Too many sweets can lead to cavities," the interloper reasoned.


    "You don''t get it. Just hand over the pastries. I''m not afraid of cavities," the obstinate intruder insisted.


    "You scoundrel! Do you truly think I am a mere toddler to be duped so easily?" Rhaegar eximed, pointing an using finger.


    "Ser, teach this insolent fool a lesson. Let him see the error of his ways," Rhaegarmanded Erryk, his frustration palpable.


    Erryk hesitated, reluctant to resort to violence at a banquet. However, seeing the prince''s dignity slighted, he knew he had to intervene.


    Without drawing his sword, Erryk moved behind the intruder and attempted to restrain him by pressing on his shoulder.


    "No, Ser Knight, there seems to be a misunderstanding," the intruder protested.


    "I don''t care. Anyone who crosses the prince must face the consequences," Erryk retorted, determined to assert the prince''s authority.


    As Erryk reached out, a swift blow struck the back of his hand, causing him to recoil in pain as a bruise blossomed on his skin.

 Chapter 18: Vagabond Swordsman

    Chapter 18: Vagabond Swordsman


    Erryk was taken aback by the sudden and deft attack. When he looked up, he saw the assant seated calmly, holding a silver chopstick.


    "Ser Kingsguard, I mean no harm. I am merely a hungry wanderer in search of sustenance," the man exined with a pleasant demeanor.


    Observing this exchange, Rhaegar discreetly set down his te and positioned himself behind Erryk. The swiftness of the attack indicated the stranger''s proficiency, and Rhaegar deemed it prudent to tread cautiously.


    "You are most generous, Your Highness," the man remarked, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the pastries. He graciously bowed to Rhaegar, signaling his genuine intent.


    As Rhaegar examined the man, he noted his curly brown hair, brown eyes, and weathered yet amiable countenance. Despite his affable appearance, the man stood notably short, a characteristic that set him apart from the towering knights of the realm.


    Sensing Rhaegar''s curiosity, the man smiled and inquired, "I know who you are, but do you know who I am?"


    Rhaegar, intrigued, questioned, "And who might you be?"


    "A nobody," the man responded nonchntly, prompting a bemused reaction from Rhaegar.


    Frustration simmered within Rhaegar as he clenched his fist, feeling as though he was being toyed with.Before Rhaegar could voice his vexation, the man extended the te to him and whispered, "I am Syrio Friar, a wandering swordsman from Braavos. Allow me, brother, to share this meal with you."


    As Rhaegar gazed into Syrio''s eyes, he found them inscrutable, like still water hiding the depths below. Turning to Erryk, Rhaegar silently sought his counsel, receiving a subtle nod in response��a signal that he had the authority to handle the situation as he saw fit.


    Within the confines of the Red Keep, the brazen assassination of the King''s eldest son was an unthinkable act, and Rhaegar knew he held a position of rtive safety.


    Picking up a piece of pastry, Rhaegar extended it towards Syrio with a warm smile. "Allow me to share this with you, Syrio Friar."


    Ever genial, Syrio reciprocated the gesture. "You can call me Syrio, though I''m not of noble birth and currently find myself without employment."


    Intrigued, Rhaegar inquired about Syrio''s past exploits with the sword, impressed by his skill and intrigued by his origins in an overseas city-state.


    "We can converse as we dine," Syrio suggested, to which Rhaegar readily agreed.


    Returning to their seats, the tension of their earlier encounter dissipated as they engaged in casual conversation over the pastries.


    During their exchange, Rhaegar gleaned insights into Syrio''s background. Syrio had served as a knight''s squire in his youth, honing his swordsmanship from an early age. However, his true passiony in the art of dance��a dream he pursued fervently.


    As fate would have it, Syrio found himself employed as a royal dancer by a prominent merchant in Braavos. Yet, his newfound fortune was short-lived, as his employer met a grisly end, implicating Syrio in the crime. To evade capture, he sought refuge in Westeros, where he found himself in the good graces of a noblewoman who invited him to partake in the festivities at the Red Keep.


    Rhaegar listened intently, captivated by Syrio''s tale as if transported into the narrative himself.


    From time to time, one must endure injustice, he thought to himself as he ate and drank,menting the unfairness of fate.


    At that moment, it seemed as though their hearts were confiding in each other.


    Of course, the above is purely Erryk''s personal perspective.


    In reality, Rhaegar listened seriously to Syrio''s speech, his heart filled with contempt. "A Braavosi dancer with the talent to master swordsmanship, truly rare," he remarked sarcastically, observing Syrio''s appearance. "If you want height, you have fencing skills; if you want looks, you have fencing skills... How blind must the rich man of Braavos be to hire such a runt to dance for him? A unique taste, indeed," he scoffed. "A likely story. It''s improbable that some noblewoman would coax him to the Red Keep just to rub shoulders and enjoy the food and drink."


    Rhaegarughed at his remarks but remained silent, quietly observing Syrio fabricate his tale.


    After chatting for a while, all the chocte pastries on the nearby table had been eaten, and Syrio stopped regretfully. Casually, he mentioned the tournament happening outside.


    "Prince, there''s a great duel going on out there. Don''t you want to go see it?"


    Rhaegar shook his head. "No, I''m too young to witness bloodshed."


    Syrio chuckled. "That''s true, but the dueling arena is chaotic. The king is furious."


    "Why?" Rhaegar frowned, sensing a hidden agenda in Syrio''s words.


    "A Dornishman killed his rival, and the is making a spectacle of it," Syrio exined, taking a small sip of his wine. "The Dornishman will continue to challenge; the second duel should have just begun."


    "Let''s go see," Rhaegar said, rising immediately and leading Erryk to the tournament grounds at a brisk pace.


    Syrio smiled and followed suit.


    As the three of them arrived at the arena, they noticed that the audience was loudly cheering for one particr individual.


    Rhaegar found a spot nearby and stood behind the railing to watch.


    Inside the arena, a silver-gray armored knight held a sword in both hands, wielding it forcefully and driving a brown-skinned young man back.


    With each swipe of his sword, the crowd cheered and encouraged him to finish off his opponent.


    After observing for a while, Erryk whispered, "The advantage lies with the Knight of the Stornds, while his opponent, the Dornishman, is just a shameless scoundrel."


    Rhaegar nodded, fully engrossed in the duel.


    The Knightunched relentless attacks in a typical charging style, swift and precise, effectively suppressing his opponent''s movements and leaving little room for counterattacks.


    The Dornish, however, utilized the agility provided by his light armor to evade each strike, darting left and right. Hisnce served as both a shield and a weapon against the knight''s sword, resulting in a cacophony of shing sounds echoing throughout the arena.


    While they watched the duel unfold, Syrio suddenly remarked, "The oue is already decided; the shift from offense to defense is imminent."


    Rhaegar looked at him skeptically and inquired, "Why do you say that? That Knight seems quite formidable, doesn''t he?"


    "It''s true that he''s formidable on the battlefield, but the Dornish is avoiding direct confrontation and only needs to wait for his opponent to tire out before iming victory," Syrio exined.


    Rhaegar nced towards the dueling arena.


    Upon closer inspection, he noticed that the knight was indeed slightly panting after his attacks, struggling to close the distance with his opponent using his longsword.


    Meanwhile, the Dornish youth appeared to have some energy left and was skillfully evading the confrontation.


    He didn''t forget to taunt, "Lord Knight, if you were on horseback, I might reconsider facing you, but s, you''re stuck in the ground."


    "Even without a horse, severing your head won''t be a problem," Ser Balot retorted, his voice dripping with disdain, though sweat glistened on his brow.


    Rhaegar tugged at Erryk''s cloak, "Ser, is it true that Ser Balot is losing?"


    Erryk''s expression was grave, "It''s difficult to say. The cunning Dornishman isn''t giving him any opportunity to gain ground."


    "And is heavily armored; the longer this goes on, the worse it''ll be for him."


    At the opportune moment, Syrio interjected, "Armor can save a warrior''s life in crucial moments, but it also hampers the body''s flexibility."


    "Like the Dothraki across the sea, who never wear armor, believing that agility is the key to victory in battle."


    "Let''s keep watching. I have faith in Ser Balot."


    Rhaegar''s expression hardened, secretly rooting for the knight.


    ...


    (Syrio is an original character created by the author, inspired by the dance teacher Syrio in the series.)

 Chapter 19: The Rogue Prince Daemon

    Chapter 19: The Rogue Prince Daemon


    "Wait and see," Syrio waved his hands in an indifferent manner.


    The vision of a highly trained swordsman proved poisonous enough. Within five minutes, Balot swung his sword much less frequently and stopped his pointless pursuit.


    Knowing that the momentum was gone, he forced himself to endure the severe pain and cried out in humiliation, pleading to end the fight. He hadpletely lost his will to continue battling his opponent.


    Bart''s previous experience was too frightening, and he didn''t want to follow in his footsteps.


    With his admission of defeat, the young man from Dorn became even more incensed, disying his mockery with no regard for the rest of the knights. He hade here to insult this group of noble lords. As for the consequences of this? Oh, since he had the audacity to be here, of course he has some grounds for concern.


    On the high tform, Viserys stared in horror at the Dornish boy who was pounding his chest with both hands, the knuckles of his hands turning white as he gripped the armrests of his chair.


    "Bloody Dornish, go find powerful knights to challenge him!" Hemanded Lyonel.


    "Not a problem, Your Majesty," Lyonel didn''t dare to say more and went backstage to find a knight who could defeat the Dornishman. There were manypetitors who had signed up for the tournament. They wouldn''t let the Dornishman have the upper hand for too long.


    In the corner, Rhaegar turned with a stern look on his face, not wanting to see the ape-like screaming and shouting in the arena."Don''t be angry, this Dornish boy is a good fighter and smart enough to fight themon man," Syrio spoke eloquently.


    "I can tell you, the kingdom is full of warriors, that guy down there will lose sooner orter," Rhaegar''s tone of voice was firm.


    "Yes, every powerful warrior has their own unique fighting style," Syrio''s tone turned, "If it''s me against that Dornd, the best thing to do is to show the enemy''s weakness, giving openings to let the other party attack first, and seizing the opportunity to counterattack defensively."


    "What, you want to go into the field?" Rhaegar looked at him with a strange expression.


    "A wandering swordsman won''t draw his sword unless he finds a good reason," Syrio looked meaningfully at Rhaegar, the corner of his mouth curling slightly.


    "What do you want? To apply for a job as a dancing instructor at the Red Keep?" Rhaegar was not surprised when his opponent revealed his wolf''s tail.


    Syrio knelt on one knee and said sincerely, "If the Prince is willing, I could stay at the Red Keep as a dancing instructor."


    "Why?"


    "There is no reason, I''ll just do it if you want to."


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow. "That reason won''t work, I wouldn''t dare keep a dangerous person in my service."


    Syrio sighed and pondered a moment before answering, "You''re King Viserys I''s eldest son, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, your status and potential deserve my allegiance."


    "That is a good reason, but it is stillcking in sincerity."


    Still not trusting him, Rhaegar warned, "One more thing, the Heir to the Iron Throne is my sister, I have no intention ofpeting with her for that throne, and no one should try to stir up our rtionship as siblings."


    Having said that, Rhaegar turned around and walked away without even looking at Syrio.


    That person''s appearance was too abrupt, it was a deliberate approach right from the start. He picked up the pastries to show off his extraordinary skills andmented on the duel with a sharp look in his eyes. It was all a demonstration of his value to him. Unfortunately, he revealed what he wanted to achieve too soon. Did he really think that Rhaegar was a child who knew nothing of the world? Thinking that his status was superior and he could make people bow and follow him willingly just by releasing his royal aura?


    "Low tactics, dark purposes, if you see this Syrio again in the future, take him straight to the dungeon," Rhaegarined indignantly to Erryk as he walked toward Rhaenyra''s position.


    "Yes, Prince," his face slightly hesitant, Erryk nodded in agreement.


    "What is it, Ser?" Rhaegar wondered, seeing him look like he was about to say something.


    "As the Prince said, Syrio''s means are too rudimentary for the skills of a highly trained swordsman," Erryk doubted.


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed. "A good swordsman does not necessarily equate to a good knight."


    Still, he was paying a little attention. Ever since news of his body''s healing spread, the mood in King''s Landing has shifted. From urging Princess Rhaenyra to marry him. To discussions about Rhaegar being favored by the White Hart, the symbol of kingship, and destined to be a good ruler. It''s assumed that it won''t be long before one of the ministers won''t be able to resist the idea and suggests that the king disqualify Rhaenyra as heir to the throne in favor of his eldest son, Rhaegar.


    Through Erryk''s mouth, he learns that the reason Viserys has him under house arrest for half a year is because he does not want Rhaegar to be subject to too much criticism, which will have an effect on his mind and be under the coercion of scoundrels.


    Rhaegar did not object and epted his father''s good intentions. Perhaps he was too young for this. Rhaegar did not care much about qualifying to inherit the Iron Throne. Rhaenyra had already been heir for several years, so why should he have to interfere with something he had no regard for?


    "All of a sudden, a strange roar came from the distance," his face instantly changing, Rhaegar raised his head. Only to see a huge scarlet figure appear in the sky,ing from near and far over the martial arts arena.


    Sharp horns, a snake-like neck, and wide and powerful red fleshy wings...


    "It''s a Dragon!" Rhaegar cried out in a low voice unconsciously as he looked up at the flying dragon with unblinking eyes.


    The giant dragon''s arrival was the focus of more than just Rhaegar''s attention. The crowd that filled the arena was swept away by the powerful gusts of wind swept up by the dragon''s wings. It blew their hair around and made it impossible for them to open their eyes.


    The scene immediately took a sharp turn for the worse, as the crowd screamed and cried in shock, trying to escape the dragon''s shadow.


    "Calm down, this is the Targaryen dragon, the king is with you, don''t panic, don''t run!"


    It was at that moment that a thick and powerful high-pitched scream rang out, stifling the panic in the hearts of the crowd.


    It was the voice of a stocky old man with a white beard and white hair.


    Captain of the Kingsguard - Harrold Westerling


    Standing next to him was the king, who was seated at ease on a high tform.


    At that moment, Viserys was as normal as ever, calmly gazing at the dragon, with the temperament of a king on disy.


    The moment they saw the king, it was as if the crowd had swallowed a tranquilizer pill, and the noisy scene calmed down considerably.


    Sanity gradually returned after a short period of anxiety.


    Many people let out exmations of surprise when they saw the appearance of the giant dragon.


    "That is Caraxes, Prince Daemon''s dragon!"


    "That''s right, it''s Caraxes, I''ve been in battle side by side with Prince Daemon, there''s no way I''m wrong."


    "Look, there''s someone behind it, it''s Prince Daemon..."


    Caraxes, who was called by name, roared excitedly, and reddish dragon mes surrounded by thick ck smoke were ejected from the Dragon Breath.


    For three full rounds, Caraxes circled the sky above the martial arts arena, surrounded by countless people.


    The dragon slowlynded on the dueling arena only after the figure on the dragon''s back gave themand.


    As soon as Caraxesnded, he greedily surveyed the originally arrogant Dornish youth, his snake-neck stretched out, his nostrils spitting hot streams.


    "Honorable.. Prince Daemon..."


    Faced with a huge dragon that could devour people directly, the Dornish was almost frightened to death.


    Shaking and trembling, he retreated further, greeting the person on the dragon''s back with a panicked salute.

 Chapter 20: King of the Stepstones

    Chapter 20: King of the Stepstones


    In the distance, Rhaegar looked across the field and saw the Dragon Rider''s face.


    He had the usual long silver-gold hair and violet pupils of the Targaryens.


    Upon closer inspection, his face appeared cold, with a prominent nose and unruly eyebrows, reminiscent of the temperament of a slumbering dragon.


    Rhaegar knew who it was, having heard the rumors from the crowd.


    It was his uncle, Daemon Targaryen.


    The Rogue Prince who, as a teenager, led his followers on a crusade against thieves and bandits by daring to travel the continent on a dragon.


    Rhaegar had heard that there was a great deal of talk about his adventures, and there was even a book about him.


    "Look! It''s a huge dragon, a living huge dragon, it''s so big!"


    With the nature of a child''s heart, Rhaegar did not care who his uncle was, his heart and eyes were solely focused on the terrifying scarlet-scaled beast."I will ride an equally majestic dragon in the future," Rhaegar eximed, tugging at Erryk''srge hand.


    "No! It has to be more majestic and more powerful to be good, this dragon is too skinny!"


    The youngster poured out all he wanted to say without holding back.


    Erryk looked at the dragon and gripped the hilt of his sword cautiously. He looked around to make sure no one would rush the prince in a panic.


    .....


    Inside the dueling arena, the Dornishd''s legs went limp as the danger abated. He copsed to his knees, cold sweat streaming down his cheeks.


    Daemon turned and leaped from the dragon''s back, striding toward the viewing tform, treating the people in the corner as if they were nothing.


    No one daring to stop him, Daemon took one step at a time and walked over to where Viserys sat.


    "Stay where you are, no offense to the majesty of the king."


    Captain Harrold of the Kingsguard sheathed his sharp sword and pointed it at Daemon''s chest.


    Daemon nced at him and ignored him, looking cold as he spoke.


    Viserys stood motionless, his eyes as deep as the sea as he surveyed his brother.


    Daemon watched him as well. Neither uttered a word, and for a brief moment, the scene was enveloped in solemnity.


    Nearby lords and ministers appeared uneasy, unsure of how to handle the interaction between the two brothers.


    There was a moment of silence. Then Daemon took a self-conscious step back to disarm Harrold''s guard.


    "Add it to the Iron Throne!" he said, pulling a double-ded axe from his belt and throwing it in front of Viserys.


    Unmoved, Viserys looked at Daemon''s head and said in a low voice, "You wear a crown and call yourself a king?"


    "The people called me King of the Narrow Sea as soon as the Kingdom of the Three Daughters was overrun."


    Daemon recounted his battles and paused: "But I know, Your Majesty! There is only one king."


    Saying, "My crown and the Stepstones are all yours," Daemon knelt on one knee, removed the vine crown on his head, and lowered his noble head.


    The expectations of everyone present were far exceeded by these words and deeds.


    Who would have expected that the always arrogant Prince Daemon would take the initiative to soften up and show his older brother the respect and decency thates with being a king?


    Looking down at his younger brother who understood the situation, Viserys was in no hurry and asked: "Where is Lord Corlys?"


    "He sailed back to his old home at Driftmark."


    Daemon answered truthfully.


    Viserys asked, "Who is in charge of the Stepstones now?"


    "The sea, crabs, and the two thousand pirates of the Three Daughters who died and were nailed to the beach as an example to others!"


    Daemon''s voice trailed off as he answered his brother''s question.


    He knew it was important for him to know how to answer.


    Upon receiving the less-than-ideal answer, Viserys thought for a moment and then nodded as if to look away.


    Viserys rose to his feet and stepped forward, first epting the Crown that Daemon had offered him.


    After casually examining it, he handed it to Captain Harrold.


    This crown, which symbolized the King of the Narrow Sea, could be seen to leave him very unimpressed.


    Noticing the looks of the surrounding lords and ministers, Viserys'' eyes flickered as he weakly said: "Get up!"


    Daemon looked at his brother expectantly and, hearing the signal to forgive, slowly began to stand upright.


    "Wee home, brother!" Viserys'' indifference melted like ice as he broke into a smile.


    Daemon and Viserys embraced each other without hesitation.


    The bloodline of Baelon the Spring Princewas reunited for all to see.


    Those with brains understood that the king was issuing a warning.


    Just because he was weing the return of his brother Daemon, it did not mean that certain people were allowed to make a big deal out of it.


    Daemon was aware of that as well.


    That''s why his attitude has always been one of respect, and he doesn''t just do whatever he wants.


    Rhaenyra stood in front of the crowd, watching thisplicated game of power from a close distance, with a glee in her eyes that was hard to hide.


    Her clear and innocent purple pupils could not tell the difference between the real and the fake.


    It was simply a heartfelt joy to have Uncle back home.


    "Sister~"


    Rhaegar didn''t know how he managed to get out of the crowd. He came to Rhaenyra''s side and took her small hand.


    Hearing his call, Rhaenyra just noticed Rhaegar''s presence and smiled slightly, "Uncle Daemon is back, he''s been good to me since I was little."


    "Right, he looks handsome."


    At the sight of his sister''s joy, Rhaegar could barely manage a smile to go along with thepliment on Daemon''s handsome face.


    It was because he didn''t know which outstanding qualities matched this uncle he had never met.


    Even though he was rarely privy to any information from outside, he knew that the name "Crown Prince for a Day" hade out of the mouth of this uncle.


    He believed that Rhaegar was going to die young so that he could inherit the Iron Throne from Viserys.


    How could Rhaegar possibly admire him when he aims to inherit the Iron Throne?


    ......


    With Daemon appearing, riding a dragon, and the two brothers reuniting.


    The organization''s ministers moved to the banquet hall to receive Daemon as the day''s tournament came to a hasty end.


    As for a certain Dornishd with wet pants, he had been invited by Lyonel to stay at one of the high-ss hotels in the city.


    Not only did he pay for his stay, but he sent someone to watch over him. He was afraid he might not get used to living there.


    His disy was significant; many people inquired about it.


    The king values this Dornish warrior who hase from thousands of miles away, and today he also received his victorious brother, Daemon.


    Both are invited to continue the duel tomorrow at the tournament.


    He couldn''t possibly refuse, of course!


    ......


    Viserys and Daemon walked side by side as the feast was served.


    Behind them is a group of ministers and a host of nobles and lords.


    It must be acknowledged that Alicent was a discerning queen.


    She immediately ordered the servants to remove the eaten food and the dishes the kitchen had already stocked to rece it upon hearing the news of Daemon''s return.


    Everything was well organized, and there was no hint of imperfection in the temporary arrangement as Viserys led the people into the banquet hall.


    Viserys was deeply touched and publicly praised Alicent as his good wife who always shared the burden with him.


    Alicent patted Viserys'' arm and said gently, "You''ve been busy with political affairs all day, you''re already hard at work and shouldn''t be distracted by trivial matters."


    "Thanks to you, my life is not so lonely," Viserys said, holding the queen''s slender white jade hand, his eyes filled with relief.


    "All right, if we show too much affection, we''ll be the subject of ridicule by the ministers. Let''s hurry and get everyone into the banquet."


    Alicent''s cheeks were flushed, and her shy appearance was conspicuous.

 Chapter 21: Mysterious Bracelet

    Chapter 21: Mysterious Bracelet


    ��Heh, she��s doing a pretty good job of pretending to be an exemry mother and wife.��


    Rhaenyra watched with a leathery smile as she walked between the ministers.


    The resentment made Rhaegar shiver beside her.


    ��Sister, your grasp is hurting my hand.��


    Rhaegarined, trying to pull back Rhaenyra��ssmallhand.


    Rhaenyra hastily removed her hand. ��I��m sorry, I just forgot that you were still there.��


    ��It��sokay,just be careful of your image, alot of people are watching the event.��


    Gently reminding his sister, Rhaegar pulled his small hand away.


    Rhaegar lifted his hand and nced around twice. Suddenly,aface caught his eye.Only to see that it was Daemonwho wasstanding next to Viserys at thatverymoment, watching faintly as his brother and sister-inw confessed their tender feelings for each other, the corner of his mouth curling up in a hidden sneer.


    Rhaegar��s eyebrows furrowed, andhe cocked his head to get a better look at them.


    Suddenly, Daemon turned his head and locked onto Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar was startled and couldn��t help but start to step back.


    ��No, what am I afraid of, ishe going to eat me?��


    Thinking of his identity, Rhaegar��s unconquerable energy rose,staring at him with wide eyes.


    It wasn��t his imagination.


    Daemon looked up and down at Rhaegar with interest, then smiled and nodded, no longer paying too much attention to him.


    Rhaegar nodded, looking a little disappointed and a little grateful.


    ��What a frightening look, thesense of oppression is too strong.��


    Rhaegar secretly breathed a sigh of relief, but in his heart, he thought of the sneer Daemon had just revealed.


    What did this imply?


    Why, seeing his father in love with Alicent, would he show such ��contempt��?


    Rhaegar suspected he was wrong.


    But he couldn��t get Daemon��s slightly curved mouth out of his head. And he was sure that smile wasn��t fake.


    ��Forget it, noone else saw it. I��d better be good and hide somewhere else.��


    Rhaegar was two paces behind Rhaenyra with this thought in mind.


    The crowd took their seats as the banquet began.


    Viserys called for Rhaenyra and Rhaegar toe closer to greet Daemon.


    Rhaenyra had grown up worshipping her uncle. Needless to say.


    ��Rhaegar, my eldest son, there is no need to tell you that you already know,�� Viserys took Rhaegar��s hand and introduced him to his brother.


    Daemon nodded, his cold face trying to squeeze out a friendly smile that wasa littleout of ce.


    Viserys did not force his brother tosmile,but smiled and said, ��The Seven Gods have blessedus,Rhaegar had a chance meeting not long ago, and his ailmentwas cured, freeing him from his heart condition.��


    Daemon said, ��I have heard of this, the magical fruit given by the White Hart. Itsounds like a story out of a storybook.��


    ��Haha, I didn��t believe it when I first heard, but the will of the gods is always full of deep meaningandRhaegar is a Targaryen blessed by the gods.��


    Viserys stared at Daemon with a strange look on his face, and his words were a shock to everyone in the room.


    The eldest son of theKing, the grace of the White Hart, and the name of divine grace from the mouth of theKing...


    What did theKing��swords mean?


    Couldit be that he washinting at changing the heir, as rumored outside?


    A single sentence, as ifa heavy hammer had been struckinto the hearts of all the people.


    Rhaenyra��s color changedslightlyas she looked down at her younger brother, who was bingmore and moreenergetic with each passing day.


    ��I hope you��re always healthy and that sickness stays away from you,�� Damon blessed, touching Rhaegar��s head.


    It was Alicent who was out of ce.


    Her gentle face froze for a split second, secretly digging her nails into the flesh of her thumbs and forcing a smile.


    Sooner orter, she knew this day woulde.


    In the beginning, Rhaegar had been terminally ill and did not have many days left to live.


    With the death of theking��seldest son, she would have her son, Aegon, in line for the throne.


    Even if thekingdid not allow it, theministers of the councilwould secretly support her.They would suggestto thekingthat hechange the heir to the throne.


    But she was undoubtedly dealt a fatal blow by Rhaegar��s miraculous healing.


    From now on, even ifthere were people whodidn��t like the idea of Rhaenyra being a woman as the heir to the throne. Their support would only be for the eldest son, Rhaegar.


    There would be no effort to support Aegon, the second son.


    ��Could it be that all I��ve tried to do all these years was for nothing?��


    Alicent��s heart was despaired, and bloodstainswere tornfrom her thumbs.


    Alicent silently bowed her head and lowered her presence so as not to draw attention to this out-of-control behavior.


    ��Thank you, Uncle,�� Rhaegar replied politely, feeling ufortable in the face of his uncle��s blessing.


    ��I hope you won��t take it personally if I said something unintelligent in the past, we��remeeting for the first time and will have a brand new future.��


    How could he hide his little thoughts from Daemon, itwasobvious.


    Daemon rolled up his cuffs, took off a silver-colored metal bracelet, and said in a deep voice, ��After the Stepstones war, the soldiers looted many treasures.��


    ��Uncountable amounts of gold, gems of different colors and jewels...��


    Rhaegar listened intently, interested in the war.


    Daemon handed over the bracelet, ��Thisbraceletwas recoveredfrom the crushed treasure chest of the Crab Feeder, itis cast in Valyrian steel and isbeing givento you as a wee gift.��


    ��Valyrian steel? That is truly valuable.��


    Rhaegar��s eyes glistened, but his pride caused him to control the hand he was about to extend and to look at his father in expectation.


    Viserys nodded: ��A gift from youruncle,no need to refuse.��


    ��Yes, thank you, Uncle.��


    When Rhaegarwas giventhe green light, he immediately threw the discontent of his heart with Daemon into the air and snatched the bracelet with a whoosh.


    Whatever deep resentments existed in the past.


    Daemon was his good uncle right now.


    ��It��s beautiful, carved and patterned.��


    He held the bracelet beautifully and wore it on his slim wrist.


    ��Maybe you should put that bracelet away, yourwrist is too thin, it��seasy to lose it,�� Rhaenyra said, touching her forehead.


    ��Hmph, I��ve always been a stickler for hard-won gains.��


    Rhaegar grunted softly in displeasure. He lifted his wrist to admire the forged Valyrian steel bracelet in the sunlight.


    It was good enough to be used as a family heirloom.


    ��Exploration opportunity detected, thetarget is the mysterious Valyrian steel bracelet.��


    The corners of Rhaegar��s mouth couldn��t help but curl as the system beeped suddenly, adding to his already happy mood.


    The system panel appeared with a thought.


    [Mysterious Valyrian Steel Bracelet]


    Exploration Progress: 0.5%


    After half a year, Rhaegar got the chance to explore again. He couldn��t say how happy he was.


    With a face full of sincerity, he looked at Daemon and said gratefully: ��I appreciate this, Uncle Daemon.��


    The sudden move was a bit of a surprise to Daemon.


    But he dly epted it when he saw that his nephew liked it.


    ��You don��t have to say thank you twice, especially to a loved one,�� Viserys said, patting Rhaegar on the backof the head.


    ��Uh-huh, Uncle Damon is family.��


    Rhaegar nodded his head, his pretty little face very happy.


    Don��t say anything about being kin or not.


    Now that Daemon had dealt Alicent a blow, he had to apud and saythat ithad been a clean hit.


    ��All right, put that embarrassing face of yours away and bring out the temper of a prince.��


    An eye-rolling Rhaenyra pped her brother on the back of the head, teeth clenching in warning.


    ��Sure, hit me in the head, who��sresponsible for making me stupid?�� said Rhaegar, covering the back of his head, unconvinced.


    ��I��ll keep you in a little dark room of the Red Keep if you get stupid.��


    Rhaenyra revealed a dangerous benevolence smile.

 Chapter 22: A Special Dream

    Chapter 22: A Special Dream


    As the banquet stretched on, a fervent energy coursed through the veins of the nobles, causing them to surrender to the allure of the dimly lit ambiance.


    Before the dance could begin, Rhaegar gracefully excused himself, feeling a wave of drowsiness wash over him.


    Seeking respite, he retired to his chamber for a much-needed night''s rest.


    In the depths of the night, Rhaegar''s peaceful slumber took an abrupt turn as he began to murmur unintelligibly in his sleep.


    Within moments, he plunged into a harrowing nightmare.


    In his dream, Rhaegar found himself stranded on a deste ind, shrouded in an eerie mist beneath a dark and foreboding sky.


    A chilling silence enveloped the air, broken only by his own muted cries for help.


    As if in response to his distress, the tranquil sea surrounding the ind erupted into a tumultuous frenzy, monstrous waves crashing against its shores.


    The encroaching tide swallowed thend inch by inch, forcing Rhaegar to seek refuge on higher ground, his heart pounding with fear.Despite his efforts to climb a nearby coconut tree for safety, the relentless floodwaters continued to rise relentlessly, threatening to engulf him.


    Just as despair threatened to consume him entirely, a colossal shadow loomed overhead, blotting out the moonlight.


    Straining against his own terror, Rhaegar attempted to lift his gaze skyward, but his body remained paralyzed with fear.


    "Hiss...." came a sinister whisper, sending a shiver down his spine, as the shadow descended closer, casting a chilling pall over his nightmare.


    Amidst his mounting anxiety, a roar both familiar and alien reverberated from every direction, jolting Rhaegar from his unease.


    The thunderous sound seemed to rupture his eardrums, suffocating him with its intensity as a frigid sensation of water enveloped his senses.


    "Water... so much water... icy..."


    The sudden disorientation sent shockwaves through his mind, his sleeping form outside the dream world reacting with involuntary tremors and a sheen of sweat coating his brow.


    "No! No!"


    As the sea surged in his nightmares, flooding his ankles with icy dread, Rhaegar snapped awake with a panicked cry, his eyes flying open as he struggled to shake off the lingering terror.


    Knock Knock...


    The sound of a gentle rap on his door apanied Erryk''s concerned voice filtering through.


    "Are you alright, Your Highness?"


    "Huh, no water... I''m still in my room..."


    Confusion clouded his senses as Rhaegar surveyed his surroundings, the familiarforts of his chamber gradually easing the remnants of his unsettling dream.


    After a brief moment of consideration, Erryk refrained from barging in, respecting Rhaegar''s space.


    "I''m fine, Ser. I just had a nightmare," Rhaegar replied, his voice tinged with weariness.


    "If you need anything, just call out," Erryk murmured softly, his heart sinking at the thought of Rhaegar''s recurring nightmares. They had be all too familiar over their time together, and Erryk couldn''t help but feel a pang of sympathy for the young prince''s restless nights.


    With no further words exchanged between them, Rhaegar nestled against his pillow, overwhelmed by a sense of despair. The nightmare had felt all too real, more terrifying than any he had experienced before, each beat of his heart a reminder of its lingering effects.


    "Another nightmare... if this is the gift of the Dreamer, I want no part of it," he muttered dishearteningly, recalling the golden talent the System had revealed. It had been a while since he had experienced such vivid dreams, and tonight''s episode had caught him off guard, leaving him feeling emotionally drained and vulnerable.


    In that moment, Rhaegar couldn''t shake the sensation of being lost and abandoned, like a stray animal left out in the cold wind.


    As the system''s announcement pierced through the heavy air, Rhaegar snapped back to reality, his mind still reeling from the nightmare.


    With a shake of his head to clear the fog, he extended his arm to examine the silver bracelet adorning his wrist.


    [Mysterious Valyrian Steel Bracelet] Exploration progress: 100%


    The system''s prompt reminded him of thepletion of his exploration task. Rhaegar recalled the extensive time typically required for such endeavors, realizing that this particr exploration had begun around mid-afternoon.


    ncing at the dimly flickering wall, he estimated the time to be around 10 p.m., based on the usual schedule for extinguishing the torches.


    "Approximately 8 hours," he murmured to himself, mentally calcting the duration of the exploration.


    With a gentle sweep of his hand, Rhaegar collected the ethereal blue aura that had settled on his bed.


    "Reward sessfully imed," the system confirmed.


    "Recognition sessful, identified as a valuable reward: the fire mage''s magical tools."


    "I wonder what kind of treasure it is?"


    Driven by his insatiable curiosity about magic, Rhaegar wastes no time and activates the relic without hesitation.


    "Congrattions, the fire mage''s magical tool has been activated, you have received..."


    [Space Bracelet] Grade: Excellent (Blue) Function: The inside of the bracelet contains three cubic meters of space. It cannot contain living beings. Evaluation: "This is a magical artifact dating back to the ancient Valyrian era, and its spatial attributes make it so valuable that even the noble Dragon Lords are seeking it out!"


    As Rhaegar wears the Valyrian steel bracelet, he gently shakes his wrist, causing the surface to crack and shed its dust.


    Gone is the original time polish, reced by a subtle silvery gray hue. The overall appearance of the bracelet has transformed into a more refined state, with the pattern bing even more exquisite, as if it had been meticulously recarved by a skilled craftsman.


    "A bracelet of magic, a treasure coveted even by the dragon lords of Valyria?"


    Rhaegar is filled with awe as he gazes at the mysterious bracelet in his hands.


    Never did he imagine that he woulde into possession of such a valuable artifact by chance.


    "I really should thank Uncle Daemon once again for bestowing upon me such a generous gift," he muses, a sense of gratitude washing over him.


    The explorer system included instructions for the use of the space bracelet, and Rhaegar carefully perused them.


    "So that''s how it is. Valyrian steel contains magic, and by inscribing space runes on this magical metal, you can create a space enchantment."


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but marvel at the wisdom of his ancestors.


    Valyrian steel was already a raremodity, but to find it imbued with space magic was extraordinary. Wizards capable of carving space runes were exceedingly rare, making space artifacts a precious find, produced only every few hundred years.


    During the ancient Valyrian period, only the most powerful dragon lord families could possess such space magic weapons, often treasured as inheritance heirlooms.


    However, despite being of Targaryen descent, their family''s strength didn''t rank high among the forty dragon lord families. Thus, there were no records of such magical treasures within their lineage.


    The families of the Dragon Lords who once possessed Spatial Amulets had long been wiped out by the Doom, their legacies buried in the ruins of Valyria.


    Rhaegar''s breath quickened, his eyes transfixed on the Space Bracelet in his hands.


    "This matter must remain a secret. Revealing it could only lead to trouble," he resolved firmly, acknowledging the gravity of the artifact''s significance.


    Without hesitation, Rhaegar picked up the fruit knife from the bedside table and sliced his forefinger, smearing blood onto the surface of the bracelet.


    Buzz...


    The bracelet emitted a soft, hazy glow before disappearing in the blink of an eye.


    Simultaneously, Rhaegar felt an inexplicable connection between himself and the bracelet.


    "The bracelet was forged by the strongest of fire mages. It has the function of bloodline identification."


    "My Targaryen bloodline is enough to make this bracelet mine."


    As the owner of the bracelet, Rhaegar willed it to shrink to a size suitable for wearing.


    He slid the bracelet onto his wrist, marveling at the newfound power coursing through him. With a touch and a silentmand, he summoned the fruit knife back to his hand.


    "Return to me!"


    With a whisper, the fruit knife vanished into thin air, leaving Rhaegar to explore the capabilities of his new artifact.


    Delving into the empty space within the bracelet, Rhaegar discovered a plethora of treasures: mountains of gold, stacks of ancient Valyrian books, a dragon medallion, and an array of clothing and misceny, all neatly categorized.


    The sight of the gold piqued Rhaegar''s interest. While he may have been a prince, the royal vault wasn''t his to plunder. Now, with this newfound wealth, he could finally enjoy the freedom to spend without restraint, no longer bound by the confines of the Red Keep.

 Chapter 23: Dragon Taming Handbook

    Chapter 23: Dragon Taming Handbook


    Rhaegar scattered his entire stash of gold across the bed, creating a shimmering sea of wealth.


    Despite the difort, he relished the sensation of lying amidst the glittering treasure.


    With practiced ease, he cracked open the tome, its pages whispering tales of the Berys, a prominent family of dragon lords.


    Emzoned with the emblem of intertwined dragons, the Dragon''s Medallion adorned their heraldry.


    The Berys lineage boasted a rich history in ancient Valyria, spanning generations.


    Over three hundred dragons had been bound to their name, with a peak of sixty-seven majestic beasts thriving concurrently.


    Such a formidable legacy ced them among the top forty dragon lord families, surpassed only by a select few.


    Among the family''s prized possessions was the spatial bracelet adorning Rhaegar''s wrist, designated for a specific heir, yet its fate remained uncertain.


    As Rhaegar delved deeper into the text, each page brought a new wave of astonishment, causing him to sit up taller, his focus intensifying with each passing line.The book provided a cursory nce at various Dragon Lord families allied with the Berys, offering rough assessments of their strengths.


    After concluding the first tome, Rhaegar reached for the second, though its contentscked the significance of the previous volume. It merely cataloged the bannermen sworn to the family.


    Undeterred, Rhaegar swapped books once more.


    Excitement surged through Rhaegar as he stumbled upon the "Habits of Dragons" section in the history segment of the first book.


    His heart raced with anticipation as he silently prayed, "Please let there be something new in here."


    "What exactly defines a dragon?"


    "And where do theye from?"


    "The Bond Between Dragon Masters and Their Kin��"


    The opening chapter chronicled the genesis of dragons, their discovery, and eventual taming by the ancient Valyrians.


    Yet, it was all old news, akin to the theories dissected by schrly minds.


    Disappointed, Rhaegar shrugged off the origins of dragons, his focus fixed on a more practical query: how were dragon eggs hatched?


    Regrettably, the book remained silent on the matter.


    Amidst the pages, Rhaegar encountered numerous tales of dragon taming by skilled riders.


    "With the infusion of dragon''s blood, one establishes a bond with the majestic creature, ascending its back to im the title of rider��"


    "Firemages specte that dragons possess intellect surpassing mere beasts, rivaling only the acumen of humanity��"


    "As dragons age, they grow both in size and longevity, though many find flight elusive in their twilight years, burdened by their immense bulk��"


    Carefully perusing the text, Rhaegar''s eyes caught on a crucial passage:


    "Dragons are creatures of the sky and wilderness. Their lords grant them the freedom to soar and nest at will. Yet, in times of conflict, they employ enchanted horns to summon their distant kin��"


    "A magic horn? Another mystical artifact capable of summoning dragons?"


    Rhaegar was taken aback by the revtion, having never heard of such a device before.


    Unlike the traditional Targaryen method of using the ancient Valyriannguage tomand dragons, it seemed there were indeed special tools for taming these legendary creatures.


    As Rhaegar read on, a profound statement leapt out at him:


    "Dragons are not ves; they are the very essence of their riders. Should you dare to chain a dragon to the earth, you will incur a dire curse."


    A furrow creased Rhaegar''s brow at the warning.


    "The dragon cannot be subjugated like a mere servant, lest you face its wrath��"


    Instantly, his thoughts drifted to the Dragon''s Pit in King''s Landing, a colossal structure erected during Maegor I''s reign to house the Targaryen family''s dragon breeding efforts.


    Balerion, Vhagar, Meraxes��


    Once, this cavernous pit housed legendary beasts like Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes, among others.


    Presently, three dragons dwelled within its confines:


    Dreamfire, Caraxes, and Syrax��


    These creatures, permanent residents of the pit, had never known the freedom of the skies. Syrax, with its yellow scales, had resided there since hatching from its egg, bonded to Rhaenyra.


    Though ignorant of dragon lore, Rhaegar understood the stark contrast between life within the Dragon''s Pit and the untamed wild.


    He knew one undeniable truth: any dragon entering the pit would be bound in chains.


    Dragons, fiercely territorial, were bound to sh when forced into close quarters.


    The maesters advised chaining the dragons to prevent bloodshed and safeguard the younger ones.


    As Rhaegar absorbed these warnings, he recognized the gravity of the situation. These were not idle musings of maesters but the documented wisdom of ancient Valyria''s dragon lords��a lineage surpassing even the Targaryens.


    "When the opportunity arises, I must share these findings with my father and defer to his judgment," Rhaegar mused silently.


    With the book swiftly devoured, Rhaegar carefully stashed it within his bracelet, wary of causing any damage to the precious tome.


    The knowledge within was priceless, each word a treasure for the Targaryen family.


    Rhaegar lingered over the remaining books, their volumes numerous.


    In the grip of intense concentration, time sped by like a galloping horse, and before he knew it, night had given way to dawn.


    As the morning sun bathed the room in its golden light, Rhaegar, having foregone sleep, emerged from his study.


    Cautiously eyeing the door, he swiftly concealed the books and the bed of gold within the confines of his small bracelet.


    Not now, he thought, unwilling to risk discovery of his ndestine activities.


    Casting a weary nce at his reflection in the bedside mirror, he sighed at the sight of his dark, panda-like eyes.


    Yet, the wisdom gleaned from the night''s reading offered sce.


    The books held secrets not found in any known records, detailing the intricacies of the Targaryen lineage.


    For instance, taming a dragon was more than mere instruction��it required unwavering will and belief.


    A tamer''s resolve must be resolute, for any hint of weakness would be sensed by the dragon, rendering taming impossible.


    Taking initiative, climbing onto the dragon''s back, and issuingmands with conviction were paramount.


    Only through such disys of strength and determination could the bond between dragon and master truly flourish, soaring together across sky and sea, united as one.


    Filled with anticipation, Rhaegar washed himself before bestowing a tender kiss upon his egg, his heart brimming with hope.


    "Swiftly hatch, for the sky awaits our journey!" he eximed with conviction, his voice ringing out boldly.


    He harbored no doubt in his ability to be a dragon master, for to question himself would be to forsake the Valyrian blood coursing through his veins.


    Pushing open the door, Rhaegar''s gaze met Erryk''s, finding encouragement in the warmth of his brown eyes.


    "Ser, could you spare me the enigmatic looks? They''re rather unsettling," Rhaegar remarked as they concluded their breakfast.


    Erryk, taken aback, responded, "Of course, but know that I harbor no doubts about your ambitions."


    Rhaegar''s cheeks tinged with a faint blush as he brushed off thement, "Such matters are of little consequence. Today, we have a tournament to attend."


    Though yesterday''s events had been cut short to wee Daemon, the tournament was set to span seven days, with daily contests.


    The haughty Dornishman remained under close watch in King''s Landing.


    Today, a valiant knight would seek retribution and earn the king''s favor.

 Chapter 24: Syrio’s Swordsmanship

    Chapter 24: Syrio��s Swordsmanship


    The tournament stood as a beacon of the kingdom''s pride, drawing eager nobles from all corners.


    As Rhaegar made his way to the event, the grandstands were already teeming with spectators, their anticipation palpable in the air.


    With swift steps, he approached, catching sight of his father seated prominently upon the high stage.


    Drawing nearer, he observed the throng surrounding Viserys, the atmosphere charged with excitement.


    Viserys upied the central seat, nked by Lyonel Strong on his right and his Uncle Daemon on his left.


    Positioned just below Lyonel, Rhaenyra sat with a regal air, her demeanor befitting her status as heir.


    Though the sess ofst night''s banquet remained a mystery, Viserys appeared in good spirits, a smile gracing his features as he caught sight of Rhaegar''s arrival.


    Waving enthusiastically, he beckoned, "Come quickly, my son. You retired earlyst night; today, you shall sit by your father''s side."


    "The maester advises that children retire early and rise early, ensuring swift growth," Rhaegar quipped wryly as he approached Viserys, his tone yful yet affectionate.Lifted into his father''s embrace, Rhaegar settledfortably on hisp, his fingers deftly plucking fruit from a nearby tter as he basked in his father''s affection.


    "Why don''t I see the bracelet? Didn''t you like it?" Rhaenyra inquired with a smile, noticing Rhaegar''s bare wrist.


    "It''s a bit toorge for me," Rhaegar replied nonchntly, brushing off the matter.


    The truth was, the bracelet''s normal size was ufortable for him to wear, and he didn''t want to attract any unnecessary attention, especially after shrinking it to conceal its magical properties.


    Deciding to stow it away forter use, Rhaegar discreetly ced the bracelet in the incubator housing the dragon eggs. With no one paying much heed to the small incident, they all awaited themencement of the tournament with a sense of calm.


    In a bid to appease the tensions from the previous day, the usual events such as riding, shooting, and melee were omitted for this particr match. Instead, the focus was solely on dueling.


    As the twobatants made their separate entrances into the arena, all eyes were on them.


    One of them, the young man from Dorne, was undoubtedly the star of the day.


    The other figure, however, failed to impress the crowd.


    A swordsman with curly hair and a slight stature, hecked the imposing armor that typically adorned duelists, instead opting for a lightweight leather attire.


    "That''s Syrio!" Rhaegar eximed, his eyes widening as he recognized the curly-haired swordsman.


    Viserys cast a curious nce at Rhaegar, asking, "Do you know who that swordsman is?"


    Rhaegar nodded, "We shared tea together yesterday. He''s a wandering swordsman with impressive skills who wished to pledge his allegiance to me."


    As he spoke, Rhaegar couldn''t help but smile faintly.


    Viserys subtly furrowed his brow and stroked his chin in thought. "Let me guess, you declined his offer?"


    "Yes, he''s a mysterious man of uncertain origins. I couldn''t trust him," Rhaegar replied casually, popping a reddish candy into his mouth.


    "You made the right decision. I received some news this morning that I can share with you," Viserys said, winking at Lyonel as he ruffled Rhaegar''s hair.


    Lyonel rose from his seat and produced a small note, reading aloud, "Syrio Friar, born to a minor noble family in Braavos,ter joined a certain sect of believers and frequently undertook perilous missions."


    "Two months ago, he assassinated a prominent figure in Braavos, resulting in a warrant for his arrest across the realm. He was subsequently apprehended and brought to Westeros."


    "Half a month ago, posing as a wandering entertainer, he gained the trust of a nobleman''s daughter and made his way to King''s Landing."


    "Yesterday afternoon, at the banquet following Prince Daemon''s return, he enlisted in the tournament and challenged Degas Orleans to a duel."


    Lyonel ryed Syrio''s background in one breath, taking a sip of wine to moisten his throat before turning his gaze toward Daemon.


    Daemon''s expression remained neutral and indifferent.


    Rhaegar listened attentively, silently impressed by Lord Lyonel''s astuteness.


    "To impart a lesson, remember that no wall is impregnable under the sky, and strength lies in honor and integrity," Viserys remarked, delighting in his eldest son''s astonishment.


    "I understand, Father," Rhaegar replied obediently, absorbing his father''s words.


    Viserys took pride in his son''spliance, resolving to impart more lessons and guidance to his eldest in the future.


    "The duel is about to begin," Rhaenyra''s clear voice interrupted the exchange between father and son.


    The two contestants positioned themselves in the dueling arena.


    The Dornish youth wielded his spear, cautiously circling Syrio, while the referee signaled the start with a blow of his horn.


    Unlike the previous day, the Dornish youth seemed more subdued, likely wary of Caraxes''s presence.


    Meanwhile, Syrio remained stationary, his one-handed sword held behind his back.


    "Shorty, who sent you here to meet your end?" the Dornish youth taunted, attempting to provoke Syrio.


    Syrio, however, remained unfazed, replying in a calm tone, "All men meet their end eventually. But I don''t believe it''s my time just yet."


    "Is that so? I see death in your future," the Dornish youth retorted as he cautiously approached with his weapon.


    "To speak of death is to invite it. And perhapsit is you who will die."


    Syrio continued to hold his sword single-handedly, unfaltering in his stance.


    "Little swordsman, I''ll cut off your legs and make you a true half-man," the Dornish youth threatened.


    With a tentative thrust, the Dornish youth initiated the attack, his movements swift and precise.


    But Syrio was even faster.


    With a swift strike, he deflected the spear''s shaft with his sword, causing the weapon to veer off course.


    Taking advantage of the opening, Syrio swiftly stepped forward and aimed a blow at the Dornish youth''s elbow, sessfullynding the hit before retracting his foot into a defensive stance.


    Meeting the Dornish youth''s indignant gaze, Syrio remarked lightly, "Short? You''lle to know my greatness when your head rolls at your feet."


    Though angered by Syrio''s words, the Dornish youth exercised restraint, refraining from acting impulsively.


    The duel reached a stalemate, with neither side making a move.


    Unimpressed by theirck of action, the spectators jeered, urging them to continue the fight.


    It was clear that the duel needed to reach a decisive conclusion soon.


    Either Syrio would emerge victorious by beheading the Dornish youth.


    Or the Dornish youth would swiftly dispatch Syrio, allowing a more skilled knight to execute him in turn.


    Listening to the uproar from the spectators, Syrio sighed deeply. "I had intended to grant you a few more moments of life, but death is as inevitable as the flow of water."


    "Quit your babbling. I''m not intimidated by a dwarf who can''t even mount a horse."


    Despite the Dornish youth''s curses, he remained hesitant tounch an attack.


    Syrio chuckled softly. "You''re mistaken. I''m taller than a horse''s saddle, I''ve measured."


    Before the Dornish youth could react, Syrio sprang into action, his movements swift as the wind.


    Closing the distance between them with remarkable speed, Syrio caught the Dornish youth off guard.


    In a desperate attempt to fend him off, the Dornish youth thrust his spear forward in a sweeping motion.


    But Syrio deftly evaded the attack, using the back of his sword to knock the spear''s tip to the ground.


    Seizing the opportunity, Syrio swiftly raised his sword and plunged it into the Dornish youth''s chest.


    A spurt of blood erupted from the wound, and the Dornish youth''s resistance crumbled instantly.


    Confusion clouded his eyes as he struggled toprehend why he was dying so swiftly.


    "You...sneak attacked..."


    With a final re of disbelief, the Dornish youth loosened his grip on thence and copsed to the ground.


    Syrio, filled with a sense of pity, seized the Dornish youth''s hair and exposed his neck.


    "Your instructor taught you techniques but failed to instill in you the value of your own life," Syrio remarked solemnly.


    With a swift motion, he raised his iron sword high and severed the Dornish youth''s head from his body.

 Chapter 25: The King’s Mind Games

    Chapter 25: The King��s Mind Games


    As Syrio emerged victorious from the duel, the crowd erupted into a chorus of cheers and apuse, acknowledging his exceptional skill with the sword. The referee, sensing Syrio''s readiness to continue, inquired if he wished to proceed with the match.


    "Indeed, I strive to im the title of champion," Syrio dered confidently, his grip firm on his iron sword as he graciously bowed to the king and the assembled audience.


    Viserys observed the proceedings with a sense of amusement, harboring some goodwill towards the foreign swordsman who had bested the Dornish challenger. Syrio''s prowess was evident as he effortlessly dispatched one opponent after another, his elegant swordy captivating the spectators and earning their admiration.


    As the sun reached its zenith, signaling noon, Viserys decided to bring the tournament to a halt. Rising from his seat with a stretch to ease his tired muscles, he expressed his satisfaction with the spectacle.


    "An impressive disy of skill!" Viserys remarked, addressing the gathered crowd.


    Upon hismand, a servant approached Syrio and ryed the king''s desire to speak with him. Syrio, ever respectful, approached the edge of the dueling ring and knelt before the tform where Viserys sat.


    "Why remain below, swordsman? Come join me up here," Viserys invited, gesturing for Syrio to ascend.


    With his sword resting on his knee, Syrio replied with conviction, "I fight for honor. Should I emerge victorious and im the championship, I will pledge my allegiance to Your Grace."


    "Intriguing," Viserys responded with interest. "The tournament concludes in five days. If you emerge as the champion, I shall grant you a boon.""I am deeply grateful for your generosity, Your Majesty," Syrio expressed his thanks humbly.


    Viserys then signaled for Syrio to step back, taking Rhaegar''s hand as he began to depart from the gathering, followed by the other guests as they trailed after the king.


    ...


    As they settled in Viserys'' study within the Red Keep, leaving the excitement of the tournament behind, Viserys posed a question to his children.


    "Do any of you wonder why I made a promise to that swordsman?" he inquired, his gaze shifting between Rhaegar and Rhaenyra.


    Rhaegar furrowed his brow, contemting the question, while Rhaenyra responded with a hint of disinterest, "You once mentioned that the best way to truly understand someone or something is to observe them over time."


    Viserys nodded approvingly at her recollection. "Indeed, observing is key."


    With a slight smile, he continued, "Having capable individuals in positions of power serves as a preventative measure against potential risks. Additionally, it allows us to continue investigating the origins of any threats."


    Perplexed, Rhaegar interjected, "But wouldn''t ignoring the risks lead to consequences?"


    "Exactly," Viserys affirmed. "Which is why I aim to instill in you both the importance of remaining vignt and never underestimating potential dangers."


    Viserys retrieved an example from history, recalling the Battle of the Stepstones. "The Stepstones hold significant strategic importance," he began, addressing his children. "Yet, during the invasion by the Three Daughters, do you understand why I refrained from sending troops preemptively?"


    Rhaenyra hesitated before responding, herplexion paling slightly. "You wished to avoid inciting war and facing scrutiny from the realm," she offered tentatively.


    Viserys shook his head gently. "Incorrect. The Battle of the Stepstones was defensive in nature. History remembers the king''s triumph over the Three Daughters'' pirates as a testament to his strategic brilliance."


    Turning to Rhaegar, Viserys sought his son''s opinion."What do you think?"


    Rhaegar furrowed his brow in thought before replying, "Because someone else was bound to defeat the Three Daughters..."


    Viserys smiled, pleased with Rhaegar''s straightforward answer. "Precisely, Rhaegar. You have a keen insight."


    Apuding his son''s astuteness, Viserys continued, "The Three Daughters'' aggression directly threatened the sea serpent Corlys Vryon and his family. Corlys would not sit idly by."


    Rhaenyra, however, remained puzzled. "So? You allowed the pirates to harm your people and prompted the sea serpent to wage war instead of taking decisive action yourself?"


    In her view, it was the king''s duty to confront the Triarchy head-on rather than shifting the burden of war onto his subjects and potentially jeopardizing his own authority.


    Viserys remainedposed as he addressed his daughter''s skepticism, patiently unraveling theplexities of the situation.


    "During the Triarchy invasion, your mother tragically passed away during childbirth, and Rhaegar, as my son and potential heir, was born unconscious," he began, his tone measured. "ording to tradition, my brother Daemon was the natural choice to ascend the Iron Throne."


    He continued, recounting the turbulent events. "However, I was resolute in my decision to name you, Rhaenyra, as my heir. When tensions escted with Daemon, I acted in anger and banished him from court."


    Viserys met Rhaenyra''s gaze evenly. "Consider, in such a precarious situation, could the royal family afford the risks associated with initiating a war?"


    Rhaenyra attempted to counter his exnation. "But we have dragons and loyal lords!" she protested.


    Viserys countered her argument with a sobering reality. "These dragons were in the Dragon''s Pit and on Dragonstone. How many dragons were avable for war? And who wouldmand the tumultuous seas, even if we were to mobilize our forces?"


    His words left Rhaenyra at a loss. "But Daemon has Caraxes, and I could lead the army..." she began, only to be interrupted by Viserys.


    "Daemon has been cast out by me, forfeiting his im to the throne. Would he then pledge his loyalty to me or to you, the newly appointed heir?" Viserys questioned pointedly.


    "Absolutely not! Nor would I seek Daemon''shelp with a straight face."


    "Syrax is a young dragon who has never been to war, would I risk sending my newly designated heir, you, into battle, potentially exposing you to assassination?"


    The weight of Viserys'' words bore down on Rhaenyra, silencing her protests. She realized the grim reality of the situation and found herself unable to respond.


    Viserys'' words cut through Rhaenyra''s uncertainty like a de,ying bare the harsh realities of politics and war.


    He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in before continuing. "On the contrary, the royal family dispatched only 3,000 soldiers, while Corlys and Daemon bore the burden ofunching a private war against the Three Daughters for the realm''s sake."


    He recounted the sacrifices made and theck of tangible rewards, his voice steady and unwavering. "Years of relentless battle, untold toil, and depletion of resources��all for a im to a deste ind."


    Viserys took a measured sip from his ss, his gaze piercing. "And what did they gain? Nothing. Corlys and his family were shattered, forced to retreat from the Stepstones. Your uncle Daemon, burdened by the weight of his position, relinquished his crown and returned to King''s Landing, humbly seeking peace."


    He approached Rhaenyra, his tone firm yet gentle. "Meanwhile, you, my chosen heir, have grown into a remarkable individual, and peace prevails throughout the realm."


    "Do you now understand, my daughter?" Viserys asked, his wordsden with wisdom and insight.


    Rhaenyra was struck by her father''s foresight, realizing theplexities she had overlooked in her simplistic understanding of the situation. His words resonated deeply within her.


    For a moment, the figure before her seemed both familiar and unfamiliar, evoking memories of the father she once knew �C one who possessed a smile for everyone.


    She bowed her head respectfully. "Father, the Seven Gods have bestowed upon you unparalleled wisdom. I have doubted you, and for that, I am deeply ashamed."


    Viserys, though sometimes indecisive as a king, demonstrated astute political awareness that Rhaenyra could not overlook.

 Chapter 26: Dreamer

    Chapter 26: Dreamer


    Viserys ced a reassuring hand on his daughter''s shoulder, whispering softly, "There''s no need to rush, my dear. You have a long journey ahead, and in time, you''ll learn the ways of leadership and governance."


    "I''m truly sorry, Father," Rhaenyra murmured, her eyes welling with tears as she felt the depth of her father''s love, willingly embracing him.


    "It''s alright. A father''s duty is to ease the burdens and pave a path of ease for his child," Viserysforted her tenderly, gently running his fingers through her hair.


    Rhaenyra''s guilt deepened at his words, and she nestled closer to him.


    "Well, don''t let Rhaegar catch you looking so sentimental," Viserys teased lightly.


    "Hmph, he wouldn''t dare," Rhaenyra retorted, breaking away from her father''s embrace with a stubborn huff.


    "What''s gotten into you?" she added, shooting a pointed re at Rhaegar.


    Meanwhile, Rhaegar remained speechless, feeling awkwardly out of ce amidst the sudden emotional exchange.


    Here they were, having a pleasant conversation, and suddenly emotions were running high between the two of them. It left him feeling awkward, embarrassed to be the only one standing on the sidelines!What more could they possibly expect from him?


    Feeling the tension, Viserys pulled Rhaegar into a hug, offering a gentle reminder, "Don''t tease your brother, he surpasses you in certain areas."


    Rhaenyra stubbornly averted her gaze, remaining nomittal.


    "Tell your sister what you''ve gleaned from this experience," Viserys chuckled, turning to Rhaegar.


    "Are you sure?" Rhaegar hesitated, casting a tentative nce at his sister.


    "Absolutely. Exceptional insights should never go unshared," Viserys reassured him.


    With a nod, Rhaegar began slowly, "In a dream, I once heard a phrase: ''Killing with a borrowed knife.''"


    "Killing with a borrowed knife?" Viserys echoed, taken aback by the unfamiliarity of the phrase.


    A moment of silence stretched before Viserys''s smile faded, conceding, "Indeed, it''s ''killing with a borrowed knife.''"


    "A profound saying, encapsting great wisdom," he added solemnly.


    "And there you have it, can you appreciate your brother''s wisdom?" Viserys turned to Rhaenyra.


    "All men have their dreams; Rhaegar''s are just a bit more peculiar," Rhaenyra replied, her pride preventing her from conceding any hint of inferiority.


    "No, Rhaegar''s dreams are far from ordinary. Remember Daenys the Dreamer?" Viserys''s tone turned serious.


    "Daenys Targaryen, the young girl known to the world as the Dreamer, relied on a dream prophecy to save the Targaryen lineage," Rhaenyra interjected, recalling the historical context.


    Viserys tenderly stroked Rhaegar''s forehead, his voice softening. "I paid little attention to your dreams until the past six months, when Erryk informed me of your frequent nightmares."


    "That could be the mark of a Dreamer, in my estimation."


    "Perhaps, but I find it unsettling, and the nightmares torment me," Rhaegar confessed softly, not denying the truth of it.


    "Rhaegar, you must heed my words," Viserys''s demeanor grew unusually grave. "Our family has produced many Dragonlords, but few Dreamers."


    "What is the power of dragon intimidationpared to the gift of prophecy?" he continued. "Your dreams, whether beautiful or nightmarish, may hold valuable warnings. Embrace them and interpret them wisely."


    Rhaegar leaned into Viserys''s embrace, sensing his father''s excitement, barely contained despite his trembling.


    "When your sister was young, I had a dream that has remained etched in my mind, never to be forgotten," Viserys confessed, tears welling in his eyes as he lifted his head to meet Rhaegar''s gaze.


    "I pursued that dream with all my heart, paying a terrible price for it, yet it has yielded naught," he continued, his voice heavy with emotion.


    Taking a deep breath, Viserysposed himself. "Now, with you possessing the health and talent I once dreamed of, I should find contentment."


    "Rhaegar, remember my words. Do not squander your gift; do not view it as a burden," he urged earnestly.


    Moved by his father''s vulnerability, Rhaegar remained silent, reaching up to gently wipe away his tears.


    "I will, Father," Rhaegar affirmed silently in his heart.


    With the weight of their discussion weighing heavily upon him, Viserys realized his emotions were getting the better of him and decided to end the conversation.


    Preferring solitude, he instructed his children to retire to their rooms and rest.


    ...


    The siblings strolled aimlessly down the lengthy corridor, emerging from their father''s study.


    "Are your dreams truly prophetic?" Rhaenyra suddenly inquired.


    "Mostly, they''re fragmented bits of information that are difficult for me to decipher," Rhaegar responded honestly.


    "Fair enough. So, what have you been dreaming about?" Rhaenyra halted, bending down to meet Rhaegar''s gaze.


    Rhaegar, uncharacteristically aloof, recalled the events of the previous night, a flicker of insight crossing his mind.


    "I had a rather unsettling dreamst night. It jolted me awake," he remarked, feigning mystery.


    "Tell me about it!" Rhaenyra''s curiosity was piqued.


    Suppressing an eyeroll, Rhaegar continued, "I dreamt of an invisible and intangible dragon, iming it wanted me as its rider."


    "How could you know it was a dragon if it was unseen and unheard?" Rhaenyra interjected, her confusion evident.


    "I could sense its presence, hear its growls," Rhaegar retorted. "And please, refrain from interrupting."


    "Fine, fine. Continue," Rhaenyra acquiesced impatiently.


    Rhaegar fabricated further, "The dragon informed me it couldn''t meet me yet, as there''s an entity in King''s Landing that disgusts it."


    "And what might that be?" Rhaenyra queried without hesitation.


    "The Dragon''s Pit," Rhaegar dered, straightening his posture.


    "But the Dragon''s Pit has stood for years, hosting countless dragons, including my Syrax," Rhaenyra remarked, uncertain upon hearing the revtion.


    Rhaegar borated on his fabrication, "The dragon insisted it belongs in the open skies and wilds, deeming the Dragon''s Pit too confining for its growth."


    "It also expressed disdain for being confined and enved, shackled like amon ve," he added, weaving the tale further.


    "Is that truly what the dragon conveyed to you? You''re not fabricating this, are you?" Rhaenyra scrutinized Rhaegar with a dubious gaze.


    "That''s exactly how it unfolded in the dream, whether you choose to believe it or not," Rhaegar retorted, his tone firm.


    "I''ll inform Father; I doubt he''ll question the validity of my dream," he added with a soft grunt, extricating himself from Rhaenyra''s skeptical grasp.


    "That may be so, but since the construction of the Dragon''s Pit, the maesters have been vignt in their oversight, and nothing untoward has urred," Rhaenyra countered, offering a practical perspective.


    "And how can you be certain there are no nefarious individuals among the Maesters?" Rhaegar spected, his thoughts drifting to the Maesters of Oldtown.


    He had harbored a distrust of the maester order from the outset, their chained cors a symbol of suspicion in his eyes.


    "Perhaps you''re correct. Father did emphasize the importance of trusting our dreams," Rhaenyra conceded, encouraging her brother to value his visions.


    The gift of prophecy was an ancient heritage, and any Targaryen endowed with it held a position of authority not to be disregarded.


    Preferring not to disillusion her brother, Rhaenyra opted to end the debate.


    The siblings exchanged further conversation before parting ways to their respective chambers.


    ...


    With the door to his room looming ahead, Rhaegar walked with his head bowed, lost in thought about his abilities as a Dreamer.


    As he approached, a message shed on the system panel.


    [Rhaegar Targaryen]


    Skills: Dreamer (Gold), Longevity (Green)


    Bloodline: Old Valyrian Dragon King (12%)


    Skills: Old Valyrian Language (Proficient)...


    Relic: Blood and Fire (me Resistance +50%)


    Evaluation: "Possessing a robust Dragonlord bloodline,parable to those of the Valyrian Freehold era."

 Chapter 27: Helaena

    Chapter 27: Hena


    Rhaegar''s gaze lingered on the talent column disyed in the system panel, his focus drawn to the sparse entry for the "Dreamer" talent. There was little boration beyond its ssification as a Gold grade talent.


    Despite his various acquisitions, the Skull of Balerion remained his most prized relic, its legendary status denoted by its striking red hue.


    The grading system he hade to understand ranked relics as Legendary (Red), Epic (Purple), Excellent (Blue), and Good (Green). Below the Good grade, the existence of lower tiers remained a mystery.


    The Gold grade designation hinted at the immense potential inherent in the Dreamer talent. Rhaegar had experienced countless dreams��visions that spanned dragons, mes, and looming conflicts. Among them were strange, otherworldly phenomena, as well as eerily urate prophecies.


    The encounter with the White Hart in Kingswood, a creature that had not only materialized from his dreams but also aided in his recovery, underscored the significance of his innate gift.


    Reflecting on his father''s recent remarks, Rhaegar found himself reassessing the recurring nightmares that had gued him. Slowly, a newfound appreciation for the capabilities bestowed upon him by the Dreamer talent began to take root within his heart.


    Grunt~~


    Rhaegar was abruptly pulled from his reverie by the unsettling sound of rolling objects echoing through the empty corridor behind him.


    With a cautious nce over his shoulder, Rhaegar scanned the dimly lit hallway.Erryk, his usualpanion, was absent tonight, having been called away by his father, leaving Rhaegar feeling distinctly uneasy at the unexpected disturbance.


    As the leather ball skittered across the floor, its movement seemed eerily out of ce in the hushed stillness of the night.


    Summoning his resolve, Rhaegar called out into the darkness, his voice cutting through the silence in an attempt to draw the attention of any nearby servants on duty.


    "Who''s there?"


    Yet, despite his efforts, the echo of his own voice was the only response that greeted him.


    A shiver ran down Rhaegar''s spine as he retreated, his gaze lingering on the door to his room, looming ominously in the dim light. With a swallow, he took a hesitant step backward, his nerves on edge as he braced himself for whatever unsettling encounter might await him.


    Ta-da-da-da...


    In that moment, the soft echo of footsteps reached Rhaegar''s ears, the sound of leather shoes with cowhide soles treading lightly on the wooden floorboards.


    Turning swiftly, Rhaegar caught sight of a fleeting white figure darting past in a sh of moonlight.


    "Brother, do you want to y pickleball?" came a small voice, interrupting the stillness of the night.


    There stood a young girl in the hallway, d in pink, clutching a leather ball in her tiny hands, her gaze fixed eagerly on Rhaegar.


    With silver-white hair and delicate features, she bore a striking resemnce to their shared bloodline.


    Rhaegar''s expression darkened as he recognized the figure before him��his half-sister, Princess Hena.


    "Hena, what are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" Rhaegar''s tone was stern, his frustration evident as he addressed the young princess.


    Hena hugged her beloved pickleball tightly, leaning against the corridor wall with a sheepish smile. "Aegon ys pickleball during the day, so I y at night," she exined innocently.


    Concern etched into his features, Rhaegar approached his sister. "Children should be asleep at this hour, Hena. Why aren''t you in bed?"


    Hena flinched as her seldom-seen brother approached, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I can only y secretly while he sleeps because Aegon won''t give me a ball to y with," she admitted softly.


    Rhaegar''s expression darkened at her words. "He doesn''t y with you? Doesn''t your mother care about that?" he asked, his toneced with disapproval.


    "Aegon ys with me when my mother is here, but he doesn''t when she''s gone," Hena replied, her voice tinged with sadness as she shook her head.


    Rhaegar''s anger red at the injustice of it all. Taking Hena''s small hand in his own, he spoke with determination. "I''ll take you back to your room for some rest. Tomorrow, I''ll have the craftsman make you a custom leather ball so you won''t need this one anymore."


    Without uttering a word, Hena remained rooted in ce, her back pressed against the wall.


    "What''s the matter? Why aren''t you happy?" Rhaegar inquired once more, refraining from attempting to coax the petite Hena.


    Hena simply shook her head, clutching the ball tightly to her chest.


    "Are you worried that Aegon will try to take the ball from you?" Rhaegar treaded cautiously, recalling Aegon''s past behavior.


    Hena nced up at him, her lips pursed in a pout, but she remained silent.


    "In that case, why don''t you leave the leather ball with me? You can take it out whenever you want to y without worrying about Aegon," Rhaegar suggested tentatively after a brief pause.


    "Alright. I''ll give you the ball. Aegon won''t dare to take it from you," Hena whispered, her violet eyes shimmering brightly as she nodded her head firmly.


    Extending her hand, she relinquished the leather ball she had been guarding to Rhaegar''s grasp.


    This little girl isn''t naive; in fact, she possesses quite a bit of courage, and she knows that Aegon wouldn''t dare challenge Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar shook his head, his smile fading. "Not this one. Tomorrow, I''ll have a new leather ball sent to you. You can give this one to Aegon for his y."


    Relenting, Hena''s face lit up with a radiant smile.


    Hena''s room was situated on the same floor as Rhaegar''s.


    Initially, she and Aegon had shared living quarters with their mother, Alicent.


    However, with the arrival of the baby, Aemon, Alicent found it challenging to handle his crying.


    Thus, she arranged for three separate rooms to amodate each of the children individually.


    Listening to Hena''s ount, Rhaegar learned that the servant who usually looked after her had been frequently called away for worktely.


    Consequently, Hena and Aegon spent most of their time together during the day.


    This arrangement often left Aegon in a position to bully Hena, prompting her to seek sce in nighttime y when he was resting.


    Rhaegar had been unaware of these circumstances, as it coincided with Rhaenyra''s return to the Red Keep for the tournament.


    Being short-staffed was, unfortunately, amon urrence.


    Sending Hena back to her room, Rhaegar leaned casually against the doorframe and yfully advised, "No morete-night escapades. You know, the Red Keep is teeming with ferocious dragons after dark. You wouldn''t want to be their midnight snack, would you?"


    Rhaegar then feigned a dragon''s roar,plete with wing motions, trying to spook his little sister.


    However, Hena simply covered her mouth, giggling uncontrobly,pletely unfazed by his antics.


    "Heh, looks like you''re quite the brave one."Rhaegar chuckled, admiring her fearlessness.


    Captivated by her adorableughter, Rhaegar couldn''t resist the urge to yfully pinch her cheeks, almost as if he couldn''t help himself.


    He saw Hena suddenly stop, her smiling face vanishing in an instant before he could eveny a hand on her.


    "What''s wrong, Hena?" Rhaegar''s concern was evident as he noticed the abrupt change in her expression.


    "Hungry wolves staring atmbs," Hena nervously muttered, her eyes fixed straight ahead.


    "What do you mean, Hena? Did you see or hear something?" Rhaegar''s mind raced, connecting Hena''s cryptic words with the rumors swirling around her.


    He suspected that she might possess a gift simr to his own, one of prophecy and foresight.


    But Hena silently retreated into her room, closing the door behind her, shutting Rhaegar out.


    He hesitated, hand raised to knock on the door, but ultimately decided against it. Hena seemed to be in a state of self-preservation after whatever premonition she''d had, and it didn''t feel right to disturb her.


    "Hena, go rest, and I''ll make sure to order you a new Leatherball," he called softly through the closed door, before retreating to his own room in silence.


    ...


    He still had a plethora of old books stored away in his space bracelet, waiting to be explored.


    If he wanted to truly grasp the intricacies of the Dreamer''s talent, he might need to delve into these texts first.


    His attention lingered on the Bloodline section of the system panel.


    [Rhaegar Targaryen]


    Bloodline: Old Valyrian Dragon King (12%)


    Since the awakening of the Explorer system, the Bloodline section had undergone frequent changes.


    Initially, it stood at a modest 5%, but after acquiring "Fire and Blood," it surged by 8%.


    Despite subsequent fluctuations, it continued its gradual ascent.


    Rhaegar spected that the percentage reflected the purity of his bloodline, as suggested in the evaluation section.


    "A robust lineage of the Dragon Kings, boasting excellence even amidst the era of the Old Valyrians."


    Within half a year, the purity of his bloodline had soared to 12%, more than doubling its original value.


    The "+" sign preceding the percentage had vanished, indicating that the efficacy of "Blood and Fire" had reached its zenith and would no longer increase.


    "Returning to the texts, ancient Valyria boasted numerous families of dragon lords. What significance does a pure bloodline hold?" Rhaegar mused, recalling Viserys''s remarks about the Dreamer''s talent.


    Determined not to squander any potential, Rhaegar now held his abilities in the highest regard.

 Chapter 28: Gossip

    Chapter 28: Gossip


    Amidst dark clouds looming overhead and rough waves crashing against the shore, Rhaegar''s slender frame ascended a coconut tree. His gaze darted anxiously at the rising water below.


    Cold tendrils wrapped around his ankles, gradually creeping up to engulf his calves. Though panic gripped him, his attempts to call for help were stifled, his voice silenced by an unseen force.


    A deafening rumble shattered the uneasy silence as lightning rent the sky, illuminating the darkness with its blinding sh. Torrential rain began to cascade down, drenching Rhaegar to the bone.


    "Where... where am I?" he muttered, disoriented by the sudden deluge.


    A low, ominous hiss reverberated through the air, mingling with the roar of thunder. Rhaegar''s eyes widened in astonishment as a colossal creature emerged from the dense clouds, its massive wings beating rhythmically as it soared into the distance.


    Straining to catch a glimpse of the creature amidst the downpour, Rhaegar was met only by the relentless patter of rain against his skin, its rhythmic cadence filling the air with a sense of foreboding.


    As rainwater trickled down his cheeks, Rhaegar instinctively raised a hand to wipe it away.


    When he opened his eyes once more, the behemoth was circling back, its massive wingspan casting a shadow over the ind below.


    "Ah...! Stay away!" Rhaegar cried out in terror, his heart pounding in his chest as the creature drew closer, its ominous silhouette looming overhead.In the blink of an eye, darkness consumed him, and he was jolted awake, violently thrown from his bed.


    "What in the seven hells!" Rhaegar eximed, his breathing in ragged gasps as he scanned his surroundings, his senses on high alert.


    The familiar sight of his room greeted him, and he sank back onto the bed, wiping the cold sweat from his brow with a trembling hand.


    "Damn it, another nightmare," he muttered, his voice trembling with fear. "And it''s the same one as before, haunting me like a relentless specter."


    It seemed that these recurring nightmares had taken root in his subconscious, tormenting him with their vivid imagery and unsettling themes.


    Rhaegar sighed heavily, his mind still reeling from the ordeal. "Perhaps they''re just figments of my imagination, but they feel all too real."


    Yesterday, he delved deep into the pages of ancient tomes, poring over them until the early hours of the morning. The Dreamer talent had been consuming his thoughts ever since.


    It was a peculiar phenomenon, but perhaps a blessing in disguise. Each sessive nightmare seemed to unveil a newyer of understanding.


    "Anything out of the ordinary tends to stir up trouble," Rhaegar mused, frustration evident in his voice as he ran a hand through his tousled hair. "These recurring dreams hold some sort of prophetic significance, that much is clear."


    His brow furrowed in deep concentration as he pondered the implications of his nocturnal visions.


    ...


    After finishing his meal, the servant brought the usual fare of bread, milk, and fried eggs.


    "Shall we attend the tournament today, Prince?"


    Rhaegar took a final sip of milk just as Erryk entered the room, timing his arrival perfectly.


    "Not much to see there. Let''s head to the Dragon''s Pit instead. I''ve yet to visit," Rhaegar replied calmly, dabbing at the milk stains on his lips.


    "Very well," Erryk responded in his deep voice.


    As he headed towards the door, Rhaegar reached for a piece of parchment on the table and carefully rolled it up.


    The Dragon''s Pity quite a distance from the Red Keep, so the squire had arranged for a carriage in advance.


    Erryk''s gaze lingered on Rhaegar, his expression tinged with concern, as if he were wrestling with unspoken words.


    Growing weary of the scrutiny, Rhaegar finally broke the silence. "Ser, is it because I''m dressed the wrong way? Why are you looking at me like that?"


    Erryk hesitated briefly before responding, "It''s nothing about your attire, Your Highness. You just seem a bit off today."


    They had traveled quite a distance and it was hard not toworryabout the normally jovial prince. He was silent the whole time.


    Rhaegar sighed, a weariness settling over him. "I had another nightmare," he admitted, his voice heavy with fatigue.


    The concern in Erryk''s eyes deepened as he observed the exhaustion etched on Rhaegar''s face. "Perhaps you should seek counsel from a Maester. Sleeplessness and nightmares are troubling signs."


    Rhaegar''s smile was wistful. "No need for that. My father taught me to embrace all dreams, whether pleasant or otherwise."


    "With all due respect, Your Highness, you seem to prefer the pleasant ones," Erryk remarked, his brow furrowing in worry.


    "Don''t fret over me, Ser." Rhaegar interjected, brushing off the concern. "Experiencing life''s ups and downs early on isn''t necessarily a detriment."


    He swiftly shifted the conversation. "Now, about that forge you mentioned, where can I find it?"


    Erryk said, "There''s a skilled cksmith located on the Street of Silk. His craftsmanship is highly esteemed."


    "Excellent," Rhaegar replied, a spark of enthusiasm igniting in his eyes. "Let''s make a stop there on our way."


    With their destination decided, Erryk directed the coachman to hasten their journey toward the forge.


    ...


    The royal carriage not only boasted exquisite beauty but also remarkable swiftness as it gracefully traversed the bustling streets, eventually arriving at Silk Street. With a gentle halt, it positioned itself before a seemingly inconspicuous cksmith''s shop.


    Parting the curtains, Rhaegar''s gaze fell upon the scene outside, where a robust, youthful figure hammered away at the forge, sparks dancing in the air.


    "Thisd is the grandson and apprentice of the old cksmith," Erryk remarked as he assisted Rhaegar from the carriage.


    "Go and fetch your grandfather," Erryk casually instructed, flicking a glimmering gold coin towards the apprentice cksmith. "Inform him that a distinguished guest awaits his presence."


    "Of course, Ser Kingsguard," the apprentice acknowledged, recognizing the resplendent figure d in silver-armored robes. With haste, he abandoned his work and dashed towards the shop.


    Before long, a portly old man, scarcely reaching five feet in height yet boasting a full, bushy beard, emerged from the shop - the proprietor himself, Ornn.


    With a hearty stride, the elderly cksmith approached the pair, his voice resonating with warmth and hospitality. "Esteemed guests, I, cksmith Ornn, bid you wee," he proimed, executing a bow towards Rhaegar with some effort.


    Observing the rotund figure before him, Rhaegar couldn''t help but conceal a hint of amusement. Despite standing face to face, Ornn''s stout and plumpstature suggested a formidable presence that might easily tten him.


    Producing a rolled cylinder of parchment, Rhaegar presented it to Ornn, elucidating, "This contains the blueprint for a bracelet. I require an exact replica crafted with utmost haste."


    "Consider it done. Should it be tailored to fit your wrist?" inquired Ornn, his confidence unwavering.


    "Yes, precisely. It is intended to rece a gift that proved ill-fitting," confirmed Rhaegar, outlining his requirements.


    Assuring the customer of his capability, Ornn thumped his chest confidently. "Fear not. Retrieve the bracelet before dusk, and I guarantee it shall meet your specifications."


    "I trust in Erryk''smendation. See to it that he is dulypensated for his services, Ser," Rhaegar concluded, sealing the agreement with sinct efficiency.


    Old Ornn, however, refused the bag of coins that Erryk proffered, dering, "I seek no payment other than the honor of seeing a prince adorned with my craftsmanship. It is the most precious reward I could desire."


    "Intriguing. And how did you discern my royal lineage? Dare you hazard a guess as to which prince I am?" Rhaegar inquired, a yful glint in his eyes as he regarded the stout cksmith.


    With solemnity, Old Ornn responded, "I have witnessed the king escorting his second son, Aegon, during a past event. Judging by your age, you must be the firstborn son of thete queen, the fabled Sleeping Young Dragon, Rhaegar."


    "The Sleeping Young Dragon?" Rhaegar echoed, a bemused expression crossing his features. "What curious moniker is this? Does it pertain to me?"


    Unnerved by his inadvertent slip, Old Ornn fell silent, murmuring a hasty apology for his misstep.


    Observing Old Ornn''s reticence, Rhaegar redirected his attention to Erryk, his countenance marked by dissatisfaction. "Ser, when was I bestowed with such a name?"


    "Since the conclusion of thest Kingswood hunt, tales of your inherent vulnerability and the White Hart''s benediction have circted widely among the popce," Erryk murmured, casting a cautionary nce towards the aging cksmith.


    "The King issued a decree expressly forbidding any discussion regarding you, yet rumors persisted," he continued in a hushed tone.


    "It was not until your gant reception of Princess Rhaenyra on her return journey and your subsequent public appearance that the moniker gained traction."


    Furrowing his brow, Rhaegar queried, "So my father''s decree confining me to the confines of the Red Keep is somehow linked to this?"


    "In part, yes. However, His Grace''s motivations are multifaceted, and the full extent of the matter remains shrouded..." Erryk trailed off cautiously.


    "One reason suffices," Rhaegar interjected tersely, indicating a desire to conclude the matter.

 Chapter 29: The Bastard

    Chapter 29: The Bastard


    Rhaegar interrupted with frustration evident in his tone:


    "Father grounded me over mere gossip. Isn''t that excessive?"


    "Gossip can be harmful. His Grace simply wanted to protect you from any potential trouble," Erryk exined.


    Rhaegar scoffed bitterly, "He was worried someone might fill my head with dangerous notions."


    Listening intently, Erryk paused to consider Rhaegar''s words.


    "The Sleeping Dragon!"


    The moniker implied weakness and vulnerability, suggesting the infant''s frailty. But "infant dragon" also carries the connotation of youth and potential.


    "If a dragon were to awaken from slumber, what would be its first act?"


    Rhaegar pondered aloud, his expression thoughtful.Upon awakening from a deep slumber, a dragon''s primary task is to nourish itself and mature into its full dragonhood.


    "And what name would befit such a transformation?"


    "Awakened Dragon" or "Roaring Dragon"?


    This was a deliberate effort to sow discord by spreading the reputation of the King''s first son.


    "A sleeping dragon may be vulnerable, but it''s preferable to one that never wakes at all." Rhaegar consoled himself.


    Meeting Erryk''s gaze squarely as he issued hismand: "Ensure he receives every penny of his wages, and henceforth, any rumors concerning me are to be reported to me directly."


    "Consider it done," Erryk replied with a grimace, acknowledging the directive.


    "Let''s go. Take me to purchase some toys for toddlers, and then we''ll head to the Dragon''s Pit," Rhaegar dered, his mood darkening further as he stepped into the carriage.


    ...


    The wagon came to a halt on Silk Street, where Erryk swiftly darted off to procure an array of toys, stuffing them into the carriage before they continued on to the Dragon''s Pit.


    Perched atop a mountain, the Dragon''s Pit stood apart from the bustling city center, its surroundings notably more tranquil.


    Upon arrival, no weing party awaited them at the gate; only two armored guards stood sentry.


    Spotting the royal carriage, one of the guards approached, curiosity evident in his tone: "Which lord graces us with his presence?"


    "Rhaegar Targaryen, firstborn son of Viserys I!" Erryk announced proudly as he emerged from the carriage.


    Although they couldn''t see the prince himself, the guards saluted, recognizing the authority conveyed by the white robes of the Kingsguard, and promptly opened the gate to admit them.


    The Dragon''s Pit sprawled across a vast expanse, boasting numerous entrances and exits scattered throughout its perimeter.


    Aside from the grand front gate, there were caves nestled within the mountain and openings carved into the cliffsides��pathways through which the dragons could freely roam.


    Outside the gate, the royal carriage remained under vignt guard, while Rhaegar opted to traverse the grounds on foot, stepping into the expansive courtyard reminiscent of a grand schoolyard.


    At the far end loomed a towering, magnificent domed structure, the focal point of the pit.


    Scattered throughout the courtyard were the dragon trainers and keepers, bustling about their duties. The majority hailed from Valyrian lineage, their loyalty to the Targaryens spanning generations.


    Fluent in the ancient Valyrian tongues, they possessed the unique ability to calm the dragons'' restlessness and were tasked with ensuring the creatures'' well-being, providing them with sustenance and care.


    "Greetings, Your Highness!" They all saluted respectfully as Rhaegar entered the Dragon''s Pit.


    "Rise. I''m here to take a look around," Rhaegar stated bluntly, cutting straight to the chase.


    "I''ll be your guide today, Your Highness, as Bass is absent," offered a young apprentice, his features marked by ck hair, dark eyes, and a somewhat pallidplexion.


    "And what''s your name?" Rhaegar inquired politely, extending the courtesy of acknowledgment.


    "I am Maynard Waters, Your Highness," the apprentice replied, his voice soft and smile shy.


    "Waters?" Rhaegar''s brows furrowed slightly, recalling that it was a surname often associated with bastards in certain regions of Westeros. In the Crownds, Waters was the designated surname for such individuals, much like Snow was in the North.


    Rhaegar nced down at Maynard and couldn''t help but notice his in attire, adorned with a few patches here and there. It was evident that Maynard wasn''t living in thep of luxury.


    The plight of bastards was a harsh reality; they often faced discrimination and disdain, even if they were educated or talented. Maynard''s demeanor betrayed a hint of insecurity, a feeling all too familiar to those born on the wrong side of the sheets.


    Sensing Maynard''s difort under his scrutiny, Rhaegar feltpelled to offer some words of encouragement, albeit abruptly. "Lift your head up. You''ve been blessed with a face that''s not unpleasant. Don''t shy away from it."


    Maynardplied, lifting his head with a humble smile, though the shadow of his origins lingered in his eyes.


    "The world may remind you of your birth, but that doesn''t define your worth. Each person has their own talents, and being a bastard doesn''t diminish that," Rhaegar continued, offering a brief but heartfelt reassurance.


    Acknowledging the weight of societal judgments based on lineage, Rhaegar couldn''t help but silently thank his own mother for the honor she had bestowed upon him.


    "Thank you, Mother," he murmured in a silent prayer before nodding to Maynard and proceeding on his way.


    Being sad and crying under the covers at night was no longer an option. Now he had to be a leader for himself, and he couldn''t mix his personal feelings with hisworktime.


    "Tell me, how many dragons reside within the Dragon''s Pit?" Rhaegar inquired as they made their way.


    "There are three in total: Dreamfyre, Caraxes, and Syrax," Maynard replied promptly, his demeanor swiftly adjusting to one of professionalism.


    "Show me around then. I''ve never been close to a dragon before."


    "I am afraid Ican''t, YourHighness."


    Curiosity piqued, Rhaegar pressed further, "Why can''t you show me around? Do the dragons harbor animosity towards people?"


    "No, Your Highness. The reason is that Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon were here just before you, intending to take the dragons for a ride," Maynard disclosed truthfully.


    Rhaegar''s eyes sparked with anticipation at the mention of his sister''s presence. Eager to join her and perhaps coax her into allowing him a dragon ride, he instructed, "Take me to her then. I must meet with the dragons."


    "Very well. The princess has only just arrived. Let''s hasten our steps; there''s still time to catch up," Maynard agreed, calcting the time in his mind as they hurried along.


    Breathless, Rhaegar hurriedly ascended the tform, barely catching his breath. Just in time, he witnessed a pair of dragonkeepers soothing Syrax and removing the shackles from her feet.


    Meanwhile, the scarlet Caraxes stood ready on the other side.


    In the midst of the two dragons stood Daemon and Rhaenyra, d in their dragon suits, engaged in conversation.


    "Sister!!!" Rhaegar''s excited shout echoed as he dashed towards Rhaenyra, heedless of Erryk''s counsel.


    Startled by his sudden appearance, Rhaenyra turned to him with confusion evident in her expression. "Rhaegar, what brings you to the Dragon''s Pit?"


    Drawing closer, he seized his sister''s hand with pride. "Didn''t I mentionst night? The dragon in my dream warned that the Dragon''s Pit isn''t safe, so I came to investigate."


    "I thought you were attending the tournament, but upon entering, I heard you were here as well."


    "So, are you seeking me out or the dragons?" Rhaenyra teased, amusementcing her words.


    "Of course, I''m seeking you out. The dragons are just a bonus," Rhaegar replied, unable to contain his excitement at being in such close proximity to the magnificent creatures.


    Admiring Syrax''s graceful form, he remarked, "This must be Syrax, isn''t it? She''s as splendid as you."


    In contrast, Caraxes''s imposing head caught his attention, prompting him to add, "And Caraxes here is truly remarkable."


    Rhaegar''s preference for Syrax''s elegant physique was evident in his briefpliment.


    "Syrax is named after the Goddess of Harvest. Naturally, she''s beautiful," Rhaenyra replied, seeing through her brother''s intentions with a knowing smile.


    With arms folded across her chest, she inquired knowingly, "So, dear brother, now that you''ve seen everything, what else brings you here?"

 Chapter 30: Refusing the Request

    Chapter 30: Refusing the Request


    "Ride a dragon! I want you to take me for a ride on a dragon," Rhaegar eagerly dered.


    Rhaenyra couldn''t stifle herughter and affectionately ruffled her brother''s hair. "I had a feeling you had something in mind when you sought me out. Otherwise, you wouldn''t havee here so eagerly."


    "Then, dear sister, may you grant your brother''s request?" Rhaegar implored, his eyes filled with anticipation as he gazed at her.


    However, Rhaenyra''s smile turned apologetic as she gently declined, "I must disappoint you. I already have ns to fly to Dragonstone Ind and back with Uncle Daemon, and it will be quitete by the time we return."


    Undeterred, Rhaegar persisted, "I can apany you to Dragonstone Ind. I haven''t been back to our homnd yet, and I don''t mind if it takes longer than expected."


    Driven by his desire to ride a dragon, Rhaegar grasped his sister''s hand and shook it earnestly.


    Caught between her brother''s pleading eyes and Daemon''s presence, Rhaenyra hesitated. She nced at Daemon, silently seeking his opinion.


    Observing the exchange, Rhaegar also turned his attention to Daemon, curious to see his reaction.


    To their surprise, Daemon remained nonchnt, his tone casual as he remarked, "He can join us if he wishes, but your father may not be pleased if he learns I took his heir and eldest son on a journey."The underlying message was clear: while he was willing to amodate Rhaegar, the responsibility ultimately fell on him, and it was a risk he wasn''t eager to take.


    It was a tactful yet firm way of declining the request.


    Rhaenyra couldn''t help but sigh as she squeezed Rhaegar''s hand tightly, apologizing, "I''m sorry, Rhaegar."


    "Today''s journey is too far, but how about I take you for a dragon ride over King''s Landing next time?" she offered, attempting to soften the disappointment.


    Rejected, Rhaegar''s disappointment was palpable, though he maintained his princely demeanor, concealing his emotions. Withdrawing his hand from Rhaenyra''s grasp, he took a step back and forced a reluctant smile, "Very well, I shall await your promise then."


    Though his words were epting, the sadness in his eyes remained evident.


    Rhaenyra couldn''t overlook her brother''s disappointment, but considering her agreement with her uncle, she had little choice but to leave the matter for another time.


    "I''ll make it up to youter, Rhaegar," she resolved silently.


    "Princess, you mayride Syrax now."


    As the dragon keeper unshackled Syrax, addressing Rhaenyra in High Valyrian, she responded in kind, "I understand."


    Taking Rhaegar''s hand once more, Rhaenyra led him away from the dragons, handing him over to Erryk with instructions, "Keep an eye on my brother, and ensure he doesn''t venture into the dragon''s pit."


    Erryk nodded in acknowledgment, "Of course, Princess."


    After giving Rhaegar''s hair a gentle pat and offering a few words of reassurance, Rhaenyra proceeded toward Syrax.


    Throughout the exchange, Daemon remained silent, observing from the sidelines.


    "Uncle, shall we depart?" Rhaenyra called to Daemon as she climbed onto Syrax''s back, securing the safety chains around her waist.


    "I thought you were taking him," Daemon remarked casually as he mounted Caraxes.


    "Rhaegar is still young, and a long journey on a dragon''s back, exposed to the elements, may be too much for him," Rhaenyra exined with a smile.


    "But you were riding dragons at his age. Early exposure to dragons can be beneficial," Daemon countered, his tone neutral.


    In the Targaryen family, riding dragons was practically a rite of passage.


    "There will be opportunities in the future," Rhaenyra dismissed the discussion of gender roles, eager to change the subject. "Let''s make it a race to Dragonstone Ind. Who do you think will arrive first?"


    Daemon shrugged, his indifference evident as he remained silent, content to let the matter rest.


    In the background, Rhaegar stood amidst the crowd, his gaze following the graceful ascent of the two dragons into the clouds until they vanished from sight. Erryk, ever vignt, observed Rhaegar closely, noting the absence of any noticeable emotional fluctuations beneath hisposed exterior, a realization that weighed heavily on his heart.


    But Erryk wasn''t the only one paying close attention to Rhaegar.


    Among the onlookers stood Maynard, his eyes fixed on the tightly clenched fists behind Rhaegar''s back.


    "A golden opportunity," he murmured to himself.


    Although Maynard maintained a stoic expression, inwardly, excitement stirred within him, his hands and feet trembling slightly.


    Tired of being the object of scorn, Maynard, despite his vast knowledge, remained subject to prejudice among his peers. Assigned to the Dragon''s Pit, he had hoped for recognition for his diligent efforts, perhaps even acknowledgment from the royal family. As he watched the Targaryens effortlessly ride dragons, he yearned for a nobleman to elevate him to the skies. Yet, his aspirations seemed destined to remain mere dreams.


    But now, a chance presented itself.


    Wasn''t this the perfect moment? The young prince, left behind by his sister, appeared in need of reassurance andpanionship. Of course, assuming the current activity piqued his interest and that his psychological needs aligned with Maynard''s assumptions.


    With a myriad of thoughts racing through his mind, Maynard summoned his courage and spoke up:


    "Prince, would you like to witness another dragon? There''s one called Dreamfyre in the Dragon''s Pit,rger and older than the two you''ve just seen."


    Rhaegar turned abruptly, his gaze piercing Maynard''s pale face, noting the tremor in his voice and the nervous swallow. Yet, this minor detail failed to deter him.


    Born a bastard, Maynard faced immense pressure in engaging with an unattainable prince. But his offer intrigued Rhaegar.


    "Lead the way."


    Rhaegar''s tone brooked no argument, his determination evident. Despite Erryk''s attempts to dissuade him, Rhaegar''s intense gaze silenced any objections.


    "Let''s proceed; we have a long journey ahead of us today," Rhaegar dered, brushing past the dragon keepers who conversed in a tongue foreign to him. Maynard took the lead, descending the stairs into the depths of the Dragon''s Pit.


    The Dragon''s Pit buzzed with activity, dragon nests scattered about, mostly hidden underground to prevent roof copses caused by the dragons'' movements.


    Under Rhaegar''smand, Maynard felt a surge of satisfaction as he guided him through the tunnels, utilizing every bit of vocabry he possessed to describe the majesty of Dreamfyre.


    Dreamfyre is a formidable female dragon and has birthed numerous eggs, one of which belongs to Rhaegar.


    "Dragons reproduce through the hatchingof eggs, yet it''s curious that theyck a discernible gender. Human attempts to assign gender to dragons are misguided," Maynard exined, eager to showcase his knowledge.


    "So, dragons reproduce asexually?" Rhaegar inquired, his interest waning.


    Chuckling nervously, Maynard replied, "It''s unclear, Your Highness. But dragons like Vermithor and Silverwing, mounts of the Old King and Good Queen Alysanne have been known to mate, unlike their solitary counterparts."


    Interrupting, Rhaegar urged, "Enough about dragons, Maester. When do we reach Dreamfyre''sir?"


    Apologizing profusely, Maynard humbly admitted, "We''ve reached the entrance to Dreamfyre''sir, Your Highness. Shall we proceed?"


    As Maynard''s words sank in, Rhaegar realized they had journeyed far through the winding tunnels. Before them yawned a vast opening, darkness swallowing the path ahead, beckoning them onward.

 Chapter 31: Dreamfyre

    Chapter 31: Dreamfyre


    As he peered into the abyss ahead, Rhaegar hesitated for a fleeting moment before posing a question, his voice low and contemtive, "Ser, do you believe I have the potential to bond with a formidable dragon?"


    Erryk''s demeanor shifted, his response swift and cautious, "I cannot entertain such a notion, Your Highness. Beyond this threshold lies a fully-grown dragon, a perilous prospect His Grace would never condone."


    "Why?" Rhaegar''s inquiry was unwavering, his gaze fixed on the knight before him. "Do you doubt my capacity to establish a connection with a dragon?"


    "No, Your Highness, that''s not the issue," Erryk rified, struggling to articte his concerns. "Forging a bond with a powerful dragon demands great skill and understanding. It''s a decision not to be taken lightly."


    "But it''s a risk I''m willing to take, Ser."


    Rhaegar''s resolve strengthened as he took a step forward, his determination palpable. "My sister was already riding dragons at my age. By winter''s end, I''ll have reached the same milestone."


    "If she could do it, there''s no reason I cannot."


    Unspoken lingered another thought:


    With the same lineage of Blood and Fire coursing through his veins, possessing a natural resilience to mes, and bearing the ancient Valyrian heritage, Rhaegar believed he possessed the inherent qualities to win a dragon''s allegiance."I cannot permit it, Your Highness," Erryk interjected firmly, barring Rhaegar''s path. "I''ve sworn an oath to safeguard the king''s heir, and I cannot stand idly by as you endanger yourself."


    "But you''ve also sworn to obey mymands, regardless of danger or honor," Rhaegar countered sharply, his gaze unwavering.


    Perhaps it was the culmination of haunting dreams, the burden of his legacy, or the distance from his sister��all converging to ignite a storm within him.


    Rhaegar''s heart swelled with a tumultuous mix of emotions��fear, frustration, perhaps even a hint of envy towards his sister.


    He was Rhaegar Targaryen.


    "A Targaryen knows no fear!"


    Before him loomed Dreamfyre''sir, and Rhaegar was determined to tame the dragon, earning glory and admiration in the process.


    Erryk''s duty bound him, but Rhaegar''s resolve was unyielding.


    With steely determination, Rhaegar issued an order to Erryk for the first time, "As Rhaegar, eldest son of Viserys I, Imand you to remain here and not to intervene!"


    "Prince, you..." Erryk began, attempting to dissuade him, but Rhaegar silenced him with a firm, "Enough, Ser!"


    Bound by his vow, Erryk reluctantly acquiesced, his inner turmoil evident as he stood guard, his hand clenched around the hilt of his sword.


    "Very well, Kingsguard."


    Rhaegar strode past Erryk, casting a nce at the impassive Maynard nearby. "Erryk will remain outside their to ensure our safety. You may return unless you''re needed."


    Upon hearing Rhaegar''s deration, Maynard, tinged with excitement, interjected, "No! I wish to apany you. I possess knowledge of dragon behavior and can be of assistance."


    Hope flickered within Maynard, a chance to prove himself and escape his unjust fate. How could he falter now?


    Rhaegar regarded him with a quizzical expression, then nodded in agreement, conceding, "Very well. Should I seed in taming Dreamfyre, you shall share in the credit."


    "Yes, Your Highness!" Maynard''s spirits soared at the prospect, boldly positioning himself by Rhaegar''s side and leading the way into the cavern.


    Without further objection, Rhaegar turned to Erryk, his tone softer, "He shows courage, Ser, a trait to be admired."


    With that, Rhaegar pressed forward, disappearing into the shadows of the cave entrance, leaving Erryk to grapple with his inner conflict.


    His duty was to protect the prince, yet Rhaegar''s thirst for adventure was undeniable.


    As they stepped into their, Maynard swiftly retrieved a torch from the ground and skillfully ignited it, casting warm light that banished the darkness.


    The sudden brightness caused Rhaegar to shield his eyes instinctively, momentarily blinded.


    Once inside, Maynard''s initial enthusiasm gave way to apprehension. "Your Highness, Dreamfyre has dwelled here for many years, and its temperament is notoriously unpredictable. It would be prudent to proceed with caution."


    "I will heed your counsel, Maester," Rhaegar affirmed, adjusting to the illumination.


    "Do you know your way around here?" he inquired, curious about Maynard''s familiarity with their.


    Maynard''s smile was self-assured. "Certainly. Maester Bass assigned me the task of inspecting the Dragon''s Lair regrly. Given that most maesters recoil at the scent of dragon excrement, I''ve taken on the responsibility."


    "Your dedication ismendable," Rhaegar remarked, impressed by Maynard''s diligence.


    "Your Highness, I typically apany one or two dragon keepers who are fluent in High Valyrian and skilled in calming dragons with song," Maynard added, eager to contribute his expertise.


    Pleased with Maynard''s initiative, Rhaegar considered him a valuable asset.


    Flushed with pride, Maynard eagerly shared his knowledge. In this moment, any doubts about the prince''s intentions or the feasibility of taming Dreamfyre faded into the background.


    All Maynard desired now was to prove himself and earn the prince''s approval.


    Observing Maynard''s eager demeanor, Rhaegar mused inwardly, "The long-overlooked bastard seems unusually eager."


    Yet, he reasoned, eagerness mattered little as long as it proved beneficial.


    "Valyrian is my mother tongue; I can attempt it," he whispered to himself.


    Since mastering Ancient Valyrian, fragments of memories from his early childhood had resurfaced.


    These recollections harked back to when he was barely three years old, existing in a state of nearatose fragility.


    During those fleeting moments of semi-consciousness, though unable to open his eyes, Rhaegar''s senses of hearing, touch, and smell remained intact.


    In those ephemeralpses of wakefulness, he could faintly discern soft hums resonating in his ears, their source elusive.


    asionally, a gentle touch would caress his face, and tender kisses would grace his forehead.


    Though voiceless and sightless, he remained acutely aware of these tender gestures, etched into the recesses of his mind.


    However, he could still recall the voice of the song''s singer, and his nose detected a faint, acrid scent.


    When he regained consciousness, the lyrics of the bad eluded him, but the scent lingered.


    It was reminiscent of dragons, akin to the aroma of sulfur.


    Now, he could vaguely piece together the verses of the bad, spoken in the ancient Valyrian tongue.


    Clearing his throat, Rhaegar replicated the soft melody of his childhood memories, gradually humming the tune of "Shepherd''s Evening."


    Suddenly, a tender, childlike voice emerged from the darkness, dispersing the lingering unease.


    "Roar!"


    As the song echoed through the cavern, a colossal figure stirred from the depths of the nest, its eyes blinking open in bewilderment.


    The undergroundir, while not expansive, provided enough room for movementpared to the narrow tunnels.


    Rhaegar soon reached a more spacious chamber within the underground cavern. Illuminated by the flickering torchlight, the ground was strewn with the remains ofrge livestock and the pungent odor of dragon excrement filled the air.


    Suddenly, a tter echoed through the chamber, apanied by the jarring sound of chains dragging against the ground.


    "Pass me the torch, and wait here," Rhaegarmanded, his gaze fixed on the massive form slouched in the corner, recognizing it as the dragon Dreamfyre.


    Nervously, Maynard handed over the torch, pressing himself against the wall. "Your Highness, please exercise caution. Retreat immediately if things turn sour."


    "I will. Keep me in your prayers," Rhaegar responded tersely, disliking the ominous tone. With a calming hum, he advanced slowly towards the imposing figure in the corner.

 Chapter 32: Taming Failure

    Chapter 32: Taming Failure


    The sound of his boots crunching over a pile of dragon excrement echoed through the cavern, followed by a sharp clink as Rhaegar inadvertently kicked a skeleton marked with deep bite marks, jolting the eerie silence of the dim space.


    The sudden noise sent shivers down Rhaegar''s spine, his heart racing in his chest.


    For a moment, his gaze darted nervously towards the shadowy figure, fearing any misstep could trigger its wrath.


    As he struggled to steady his wildly thumping heart, Rhaegar couldn''t shake the unsettling feeling that, given his physical condition just half a year prior, his heart might already be faltering, prone to failure at any moment.


    Taking a deep breath, he attempted to quell his rising anxiety, continuing to hum the unsteady melody with less finesse.


    Then, a series of tters disrupted the stillness once more.


    After a while, the sh of chains echoed once more, signaling Rhaegar''s approach to Dreamfyre''sir.


    As he drew nearer, the silhouette of Dreamfyre began to take shape in the dim light.


    Its slender body, adorned with light blue scales and silver ents, along with its expansive wings folded neatly against its sides, created an imposing yet graceful figure.Although the dragon''s head remained obscured in the shadows, the glint of two long, slightly curved silver horns hinted at its formidable presence.


    Pausing in his tracks, Rhaegar couldn''t help but feel a sense of trepidation at the sight before him.


    Despite appearing at rest, Rhaegar knew that Dreamfyre had been alerted to his presence by the hummed melody.


    With only the silentpany of the unimed dragon, Rhaegar couldn''t deny the fear that gripped him.


    The torch trembled in Rhaegar''s grip, his legs weighed down as if anchored in ce, and even the melody from his lips felt distant and numb.


    "Move, move!" His mind screamed, fighting against the paralyzing grip of fear that held him in ce.


    He had embarked on this quest to tame the dragon, and abandoning it now was not an option.


    As moments stretched into eternity, and Dreamfyre made no aggressive move, Rhaegar''s resolve began to strengthen.


    Driven by determination, he willed his legs to take another step forward, then another.


    Thirty meters, twenty meters, fifteen...


    With each advancing step, Dreamfyre loomedrger and clearer in his vision.


    The dragon, with its imposing horns and amber eyes, regarded him with a calm indifference that sent shivers down Rhaegar''s spine.


    The confined space seemed to suffocate him under the weight of the dragon''s presence, like a looming threat waiting to strike.


    "Hoo~Hoo~~"


    The song faltered on Rhaegar''s lips as his breathing quickened, echoing loudly in the cavernous silence.


    The tension coiled through his body, stiffening every muscle as Rhaegar fixed his gaze on Dreamfyre.


    "Dreamfyre, join forces with me, and together we shall soar to the skies!" His voice rang out in his mind, a silent chant of determination.


    With blood staining his lips from the bite, Rhaegar gritted his teeth and raised the torch high, extending his hand in a gesture of invitation.


    Regardless of the risk, he was resolved to attempt to tame Dreamfyre.


    "Roar..."


    In response to his bold move, Dreamfyre emitted a deep, rumbling growl from its throat.


    Recently awakened from slumber, Dreamfyre''s demeanor remained rtively calm,cking the aggression one might expect.


    Sniffing the air, it seemed to detect some unspoken bond between them.


    Instinctively, Dreamfyre recognized this connection, forged through the bloodline of its former master, Rhaena.


    Dreamfyre''s icy gaze bore into Rhaegar''s, scrutinizing him with a keen intensity.


    Undeterred, Rhaegar shouted once more, "Dreamfyre, recognize me! You don''t belong in this dreary dragon''s den, hidden from the sun!"


    In response, Dreamfyre let out a powerful hiss, a clear assertion of its presence.


    As their eyes met, an inexplicable connection seemed to form between the young prince and the ancient dragon, drawing them together.


    In each other''s gaze, they glimpsed their own reflections, and through this connection, Rhaegar sensed the depth of Dreamfyre''s emotions.


    There was a tumult of feelings within the dragon��rage, bitterness, and a profound yearning for freedom.


    The weight of these emotions took Rhaegar aback.


    Reflecting on Dreamfyre''s plight��confined for decades in this crypt without sunlight after losing its master��Rhaegar understood the source of its turmoil.


    Summoning his courage, Rhaegar took a step forward, speaking withpassion, "Dreamfyre, allow me to free you from this confinement!"


    Though Dreamfyre couldn''tprehend his words, it sensed the empathy in his tone.


    After years of captivity, it longed to be liberated.


    With a determined movement, Dreamfyre attempted to rise, spreading its wings to disy its majestic form.


    But the sturdy chains that bound it were unforgiving, yanking it back before it could fully ascend, thwarting its efforts.


    The struggle was palpable, as Dreamfyre yearned to rise while the chains held it back with cruel force.


    With a sickening thud, Dreamfyre crashed to the ground, its slender neck nearly snapping as it collided heavily with the cave wall.


    Witnessing the dragon''s fall, Rhaegar''s heart raced with concern and panic. "Dreamfyre, are you alright!?"


    Unaware that the connection between them had snapped with Dreamfyre''s fall, Rhaegar moved closer tentatively.


    But as their eyes met once more, the intimacy that had existed moments before was reced by fury and rage in Dreamfyre''s gaze.


    "Roar!"


    Dreamfyre roared fiercely, its jaws opening wide as mes erupted from its maw,ced with orange, yellow, and sky blue hues.


    "No! Calm down, Dreamfyre, we can work together!"


    Rhaegar''s expression shifted dramatically as he desperately tried to reason with the enraged dragon.


    However, the torrent of dragonfire was already upon him.


    Fueled by the instinct for survival, Rhaegar swiftly turned and sought cover among the jagged pile of skeletons.


    Though the mes didn''t engulf him directly, searing sparksnded on his exposed back.


    The dragonfire, far hotter than any ordinary me, consumed his clothes in an instant, scorching his pale skin.


    "Ah!!!"


    Agonizing pain tore through Rhaegar''s nerves, eliciting a primal scream from his lips.


    His body arched involuntarily, his eyes wide with shock and pain, as he felt the excruciating burn.


    For a fleeting moment, he feared he might perish from the sheer intensity of the pain.


    But despite the searing agony, the blood of the dragon coursing through his veins kept him alive.


    "How did this happen? Why did Dreamfyre lose control!"


    In the face of danger, Rhaegar''s rational mind surged above his fear,manding him to take the most prudent action.


    Seizing the momentary lull in Dreamfyre''s fiery assault, Rhaegar summoned every ounce of strength to scramble to his feet and flee into the darkness.


    The torch had been lost in the chaos, leaving Rhaegar to navigate the gloom with stumbling steps, his progress hindered by the bone-strewn ground.


    "Roar!"


    Each miss by Rhaegar further stoked Dreamfyre''s fury, causing the dragon to thrash against its chains, spewing mes with renewed ferocity.


    The brilliant congration illuminated their, devouring stone and bone alike, asionally singeing Rhaegar''s skin as he fled.


    "Curses, it was so close..."


    As he raced ahead, pursued by the scorching dragonfire, Rhaegar agonized over his failure.


    "Prince, watch out behind you!"


    A familiar voice jolted him, but before he could react, a blur of white crashed into him.


    Boom-


    In the blink of an eye, the spot where Rhaegar had stood was consumed by dragonfire, leaving behind a charred crater.

 Chapter 33: Running Away

    Chapter 33: Running Away


    Copsed on the ground, Rhaegar''s mind swirled in a haze of confusion.


    Turning his head, he saw Erryk, d in silver armor and white robes, looming over him, fiercely protective.


    "Erryk, why aren''t you guarding the cave entrance?" Rhaegar''s thoughts struggled to catch up, his words slurred.


    "Protecting you is my utmost duty!" Erryk''s voice was resolute as he swiftly scooped Rhaegar into his arms and bolted away.


    Rhaegar barely registered Erryk''s words, his gaze fixated on the darkness behind them.


    Still yearning to glimpse Dreamfyre.


    He had been on the brink of taming the dragon.


    Yet, in a swift turn of events, all his efforts had been in vain.


    "Roar"Erryk''s strides were swift as he dashed out of their, navigating the tunnels with practiced ease.


    Rhaegar''s gaze remained fixed on Dreamfyre, witnessing the majestic beast vent its fury.


    Then, something caught his eye��the chains around Dreamfyre''s neck.


    Dreamfyre thrashed, its formidable jaws gnawing at the thick chains, sparks flying.


    "It''s the chains! They disrupted Dreamfyre''s bonding ritual, enraging it!" Rhaegar''s realization pierced through the chaos, his voiceced with frustration as he red at the chains that foiled his attempt to tame the dragon.


    With newfound rity, Rhaegar''s anger surged.


    His fury matched the frenzied state of Dreamfyre, burning with a desire to confront the one responsible for the chains.


    But before he could voice his rage, Erryk whisked him away, swiftly leading him back through the tunnels.


    In moments, they burst out of their and into the cave''s familiar expanse.


    Maynard rushed over anxiously, "Is your highness alright?"


    Erryk brushed him aside, his tone sharp, "Silence! Pray that the prince is unharmed."


    Lowering Rhaegar gently to the ground, Erryk knelt beside him, his eyes scanning for any signs of injury.


    Meanwhile, Rhaegar grappled with overwhelming remorse, his heart heavy with regret.


    "Almost tamed Dreamfyre," hemented bitterly, consumed by self-reproach.


    Erryk meticulously examined Rhaegar''s head, ensuring there were no signs of injury before moving on to check his limbs.


    "The arms and legs seem fine, and the fingers too..." Erryk''s assessment was interrupted as his gaze fell upon Rhaegar''s back, his expression darkening instantly.


    The prince''s clothes had been burned away, leaving behind andscape of blistered skin.


    "This is severe," Erryk dered grimly, his tone heavy with concern.


    Maynard''s reaction was immediate, his distress palpable. "Quiet, I''m not blind," snapped Erryk, his gaze shing with disdain towards the maester who had led them into this perilous situation.


    Maynard quickly regained hisposure, understanding all too well the consequences of the prince''s injury. The specter of the gallows loomedrge in his mind, threatening to overwhelm him.


    "Wait, I have knowledge of herbalism and medicine. I can treat His Highness," Maynard interjected, desperation driving him to action. He even produced a pouch containing various herbs and remedies, ast-ditch effort to prove his worth.


    "Get lost. I don''t trust you," Erryk retorted, his voiceced with contempt as he lifted Rhaegar, preparing to depart.


    Maynard could do nothing but watch helplessly as Erryk carried the prince away, his heart heavy with dread.


    During the life-threatening ordeal just moments ago, Rhaegar had been numbed to sensation. But now, as the danger receded and Erryk''s movements jolted him back to reality, he sucked in a breath of cool air, fighting against the waves of pain threatening to overwhelm him.


    "Ser, please, it''s unbearable," Rhaegar pleaded, his entire back and neck aze with searing pain, the relentless torment gnawing at his nerves, pushing him towards the brink of numbness.


    "It''s imperative that I administer immediate treatment, Your Highness''s condition is critical," Maynard interjected firmly, blocking Erryk''s path with outstretched hands.


    Understanding the urgency, Erryk nced at Rhaegar, who grimaced in agreement. "Proceed with the treatment. I can''t bear this any longer," Rhaegar urged.


    With a nod from Erryk, a warning re was directed at Maynard. "If I detect any foul y, you''ll face severe consequences," Erryk cautioned sternly.


    Maynard responded with a grunt of acknowledgment. "Rest assured. I value life more than you realize," he retorted before guiding Erryk and Rhaegar out of the tunnel.


    "My dwelling is close to the Dragon''s Pit, where we have ess to medicinal herbs and equipment," Maynard exined as they made their way towards his residence.


    Exiting the tunnels, Maynard led the way up a set of creaky stairs and into a narrow wooden hut perched on the edge of the Dragon''s Pit.


    "This is where you reside?" Erryk remarked, surveying the humble surroundings with a raised eyebrow, the worn furniture and musty scent an unexpected sight for a maester''s dwelling.


    Without wasting a moment, Maynard swiftly made his way to the bed and knelt down, pulling a four-square wooden box from beneath it. With a quick flick, he revealed an array of bottles and jars containing powders and pills.


    "Lay the prince t on the bed while I perform a basic surface cleaning," Maynard instructed sharply, his tone betraying his urgency.


    "This might sting a bit, Your Highness," Erryk cautioned as he helped Rhaegar ease onto the bed.


    "Hiss! A bitte for that reminder, isn''t it?" Rhaegar retorted through gritted teeth, his face contorted in pain and frustration.


    "Quiet now, conserve your strength, Your Highness," Erryk advised, his focus shifting back to assisting Maynard in providing aid to the injured prince.


    Maynard carefully retrieved two ceramic jars and sprinkled ayer of medicinal powder onto Rhaegar''s burned back.


    "Ouch, ouch, ouch ��" Rhaegar gritted his teeth, his body convulsing involuntarily with each touch.


    ncing sideways at Erryk, he groaned, "Why haven''t I passed out? Normally, this level of injury would have rendered me unconscious by now."


    Erryk was at a loss for words. "People usually faint from unbearable pain. The fact that you haven''t suggests it''s not quite as bad as it could be."


    "But it feels excruciatingly painful," Rhaegar countered through clenched teeth.


    He wasn''t being overly talkative. If he didn''t engage in conversation to distract himself, he feared he might actually lose consciousness from the agony.


    "By the Seven, how did you survive such extensive burns? It''s as if you''ve danced through the Seven Hells," Maynard remarked with a mixture of awe and relief as he applied the medicine and bandaged Rhaegar''s wounds.


    Considering the intensity of the dragon''s me, capable of melting steel upon contact, it was miraculous that Rhaegar had endured even a brush with it without being reduced to ashes in seconds.


    Hearing Maynard''s exmation, Rhaegar inquired, "Weren''t you supposed to be waiting for me by their? Why did Ser Erryke to my rescue instead?"


    Maynard''s expression froze, and he admitted with shame, "I made a grave error in judgment and inadvertently led you into the Dreamfyre''sir."


    "I regretted it the moment you entered."


    "I hurriedly sought assistance from Ser Erryk, fearing you might encounter danger."


    "It''s beyond belief how swiftly Dreamfyre went berserk, resulting in such a grave injury to you."


    Rhaegar paid him no heed and turned to Erryk.


    Erryk didn''t shy away from the truth. He dropped to one knee and dered solemnly, "My duty, as bestowed upon me by the king, is to ensure your safety. Allowing you to face danger alone is a grave failure on my part."


    "I �� I apologize for the tarnish on my honor," he continued, his voice heavy with remorse. With a swift motion, Erryk tore off the charred remnants of his white cloak, symbolizing his remorse and the weight of his failure.


    Observing the burnt white robe, Rhaegar turned his gaze to Erryk''s back, his concern evident. "Are you injured, Ser?"


    Erryk seemed taken aback. "Not seriously, Your Highness."


    Rhaegar sighed with relief, but bitterness tinged his words. "I pray you remain unharmed. It would be my utmost shame to cause you harm in my pursuit."


    "Duty beckons," Erryk replied stoically.


    "No, your duty was to remain stationed," Rhaegar insisted.


    He buried his face in his arm, his voice muffled. "Ser, I''m deeply grateful for your rescue, and deeply sorry for the trouble I''ve caused."


    (Author''s Note: The events of the previous chapter were merely stepping stones for the future, and dwelling on the failure was unnecessary. In a technical sense, Rhaegar had seeded in establishing a connection with Dreamfyre, albeit interrupted by the chains. Like Aemond''s failed attempt before taming Varghar, every Targaryen had their trials to ovee and lessons to learn.)

 Chapter 34: Lyonel’s Proposal

    Chapter 34: Lyonel��s Proposal


    "You don''t have to apologize; every Targaryen is obsessed with dragons, and it''s not umon for them to make rash decisions on impulse," Erryk consoled, casting a sympathetic nce at Rhaegar, whoy on the bed enduring the pain.


    At the mention of dragons, Rhaegar''s eyes red with anger. Gritting his teeth, he dered, "I was on the brink of taming Dreamfyre."


    "An ident?" Erryk inquired, his brow furrowing with concern.


    Rhaegar''s voice dripped with frustration as he recounted, "Dreamfyre was on the verge of epting me, but a chain restrained it, preventing it from standing."


    "The bond between me and Dreamfyre was severed by that chain!" he hissed, his toneced with venom.


    His eyes burned with a fiery intensity, the crimson hue mingling with the purple of his pupils, lending them a demonic quality.


    Failure was one thing, but thwarted sess was far worse.


    Erryk was taken aback by Rhaegar''s revtion. He turned to Maynard with a fierce grip, his voiceced with usation, "You oversee the Dragon''s Pit; what happened with the chains?"


    Though he had limited experience with dragons, Erryk knew well enough that the chains should never impede their movement. Rhaegar''s ount of Dreamfyre''s plight was highly irregr.Erryk harbored suspicions that Maynard might have yed a hand in sabotaging the prince''s endeavor.


    Gripped by the cor and hoisted up, Maynard trembled with fear, his voice betraying panic as he protested, "It wasn''t me! I''m tasked with menial chores��cleaning bones and dragon droppings. I''d never dare tamper with a dragon!"


    "If not you, then who, the Dragon? Or perhaps the Bass you''re talking about?" Erryk demanded, his patience wearing thin. With a swift motion, hended two punches on Maynard''s face, eliciting a sharp cry as blood trickled from his nose.


    Maynard frantically pleaded his innocence amidst the chaos. "It''s not me, I swear! Only the Dragon Keepers can change the dragon''s chains. They''re the only ones who can pacify the dragons!" he insisted, his voice reaching a crescendo in his desperation.


    Rhaegar winced in annoyance, his burns throbbing with each word. "Tie him up first, and let''s return to the Red Keep immediately. We must inform my father of this," hemanded, his voice strained with difort.


    The pain clouded his thoughts, leaving only two clear objectives in his mind: to seek sce in theforting presence of his parents and to uncover the culprit responsible for Dreamfyre''s ordeal.


    Erryk nodded in agreement. "Yes, Prince," he affirmed, swiftly immobilizing Maynard by restraining his hands behind his back with a belt.


    With Maynard subdued, Erryk gently lifted Rhaegar and carried him out of the room. The carriage awaited them just beyond the gates of the Dragon''s Pit, and Erryk wasted no time in setting a brisk pace towards the Red Keep.


    Disregarding the driver''s astonished expression, Erryk carefully positioned Rhaegar on the carriage''smodious seat.


    With practiced efficiency, he directed the driver''s attention to Maynard. "Secure him to the back of the carriage and ensure he follows us," he instructed firmly, adding a reminder, "The prince''s condition requires a smooth ride. Speed is essential, but we cannot afford any jolts."


    "Understood, Ser," the driver acknowledged, his eyes wide with curiosity at the unusual scene unfolding before him.


    Without dy, the driverplied with Erryk''s orders, binding Maynard securely to the rear of the carriage and muffling any potential protests with a rag.


    With their task aplished, the carriage set off towards the Red Keep, its wheels rolling smoothly along the cobblestone streets of King''s Landing.


    ...


    In the tranquil ambiance of the Red Keep''s King''s Bedchamber, Viserys, wearied from the morning''s tournament, retreated to his quarters, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling upon him.


    "Summon Lord Lyonel at once. Inform him that the King requires his counsel," Viserysmanded, his voice echoing with authority as he leaned against the door frame.


    Promptly, an attendant heeded the king''s call, disappearing momentarily to fetch the esteemed Hand of the King, Lyonel Strong.


    Within the span of ten minutes, Lyonel''s stout figure entered the chamber, his demeanor exuding deference and readiness to serve his sovereign.


    "What is your will, Your Majesty?" Lyonel inquired respectfully, his presence a reassuring presence in the dimly lit chamber.


    As the attendant discreetly poured wine for both Viserys and Lyonel, Viserys dismissed him with a subtle gesture, leaving the two men alone to deliberate in privacy.


    With a contemtive gaze, Viserys raised his wine ss, a solemn air enveloping him as he broached the topic weighing heavily on his mind.


    "I have been inundated with suitors vying for my daughter Rhaenyra''s hand in marriage," Viserys confided, his voice tinged with a hint of mncholy. "Yet, I find myself hesitant tomit to any alliance."


    Lyonel''s expression shifted, a somber recognition crossing his features as he interjected with a note of caution. "Your Majesty, while the matter of Rhaenyra''s betrothal is of great importance, there are pressing matters that demand our attention."


    Viserys regarded Lyonel with a measured gaze, acknowledging the gravity of his advisor''s words.


    "Oh, is there something more pressing than Rhaenyra''s marriage?" Viserys inquired, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.


    Despite the lighthearted tone, Lyonel''s gaze remained fixed on the king, revealing a depth of understanding that belied his outward demeanor. Years of experience had shaped him into a man of few words, yet his perceptive eyes betrayed a keen insight into human nature.


    Aware of Viserys''s tendency to deflect difficult topics with humor, Lyonel met the challenge head-on. With a decisive gulp of his wine, he broached the sensitive subject.


    "Your Majesty, Prince Rhaegar, as your eldest son, rightfully holds im to the Iron Throne under Westerosi primogeniture," Lyonel asserted, his words carrying the weight of certainty.


    Viserys''s countenance darkened at Lyonel''s assertion. "But the current heir is Rhaenyra, chosen by me personally and older than Rhaegar."


    Lyonel remained steadfast in his stance. "Prince Rhaegar, as a man and the eldest son, holds precedence under Westerosiw. A male heir is more likely tomand the allegiance of the lords."


    "Rhaenyra has indeed been recognized as the heir for many years," Viserys conceded, his tone still edged with frustration.


    Though Lyonel recognized Viserys''s simrity to Rhaenyra in their strong-willed nature, he pressed on. "Yet, Your Majesty, their recognition of Rhaenyra may stem from the absence of a better alternative. If Prince Rhaegar were to assume his rightful ce, the lords would undoubtedly favor a male heir."


    Through years ofpanionship, Lyonel had gained an intimate understanding of Viserys''s character. He knew precisely how to navigate the king''s emotions and convictions to sway him in the desired direction.


    Viserys remained resolute, unwilling to entertain the notion of discing Rhaenyra as the heir. "No. Rhaenyra hasmitted no wrongdoing. No one can strip her of her rightful ce as the heir."


    Lyonel, recognizing Viserys''s unwavering stance, didn''t press the issue further. Instead, he calmly redirected the conversation. "Prince Rhaegar was born into her position as heir. Now that he has recovered from his illness, are you suggesting we overlook such a worthy firstborn?"


    "Absolutely not," Viserys asserted firmly, expressing his intentions. "Rhaegar is a fine young man; he holds love for both his father and his sister. I will ensure he receives the finest education, so he may grow into a man of honor."


    "When Rhaenyra ascends to the throne, Rhaegar can serve as Hand of the King, Regent, or even Protector of the Realm," Viserys proposed.


    Lyonel was taken aback by the suggestion. "My liege, do you truly believe this?"


    But Lyonel''s inner thoughts were far moreplex, swirling with uncertainty and concern.


    With the king asserting Rhaegar''s status as his eldest son, one might argue that he should rightfully inherit the throne. After all, wouldn''t a prince of such high caliber be more inclined to assert his im rather than serve silently in a subordinate role?


    Indeed, even among minor noble families, brothers often vie fiercely for their family''s inheritance. The allure of wielding the power of a king would be irresistible to many, let alone to siblings.


    Yet, Viserys remained steadfast in his decision. "I have faith in Rhaegar. He will dutifully assist his sister in governing and safeguarding the realm from threats," he dered.


    Lyonel found himself at a loss for words, uncertain how to respond to the king''s unwavering conviction. Pouring himself another ss of wine, he took a sip, contemting his next move.


    "Well, Your Majesty, I defer to your judgment," Lyonel conceded, acknowledging the king''s authority in the matter.

 Chapter 35: Keep It in the Family

    Chapter 35: Keep It in the Family


    After a brief moment of reflection, Lyonel set aside his concerns about the heir and reaffirmed his loyalty to the king.


    He understood the potential ramifications of the King''s decision for the future of the kingdom and recognized his responsibility as Hand of the King to address the issue.


    Having considered possible solutions to the session dilemma many times, Lyonel felt ready to broach the subject.


    "Regarding the matter of the Princess''s marriage, I have a candidate in mind," he began.


    "Oh? Wasn''t it Laenor, son of the sea serpent Corlys Vryon, you mentionedst time?" Viserys inquired, his demeanor rxed as long as the conversation did not turn to the question of heirs.


    "While Ser Laenor remains a viable candidate, that proposal was made half a year ago," Lyonel replied, opting for honesty. "Your Grace, considering the interests of the realm, I suggest that the princess follow the Targaryen family tradition."


    "Rhaegar?" Viserys'' smile faltered, his expression bing skeptical. "But he''s only six. Rhaenyra is fourteen. By the time they''re both of age, Rhaenyra will be considered too old to marry."


    Lyonel remained firm. "But that is not an insurmountable obstacle. In fact, they are only eight years apart in age, and the marriage could be consummated within a decade at the most."


    "Until then, we can arrange their engagement to discourage potential suitors from pursuing the princess," he suggested confidently.A truly insightful and forthright suggestion from Lyonel, demonstrating his wisdom and unwavering devotion to the realm.


    Viserys could not deny the effect Lyonel''s words had on his heart.


    Over the past six months, as Rhaegar regained his health, Viserys quietly pondered the matter at hand. He struggled with the dilemma of not wanting to deprive Rhaenyra of her birthright for the sake of his eldest son, fearing it would only sow resentment within his family.


    His guilt over Rhaenyra''s loss of her mother at a tender age weighed heavily on him. Though he knew that Rhaenyra might not be a more suitable heir than Rhaegar, he could not bring himself to change the established order, despite subtle suggestions from some of his ministers.


    So he had ordered Rhaegar to remain grounded, hoping to shield him from any discussion of the session. Perhaps by keeping Rhaegar ignorant of these matters, Viserys hoped to spare him the pain of losing his inheritance and assuage some of his own guilt.


    But he couldn''t fool himself forever. Eventually, Rhaegar would learn the truth, and Viserys could not limit his son''s freedom or shield him from reality indefinitely.


    So he paid special attention to Rhaenyra''s marriage prospects. If she could form an alliance with a powerful family, it would solidify her im to the throne in the future and make it difficult for any dissenting siblings to challenge her.


    Lyonel''s proposal offered a fresh perspective and a solution that could unite the family without causing further discord over the issue of the heir.


    Inwardly, Viserys found himself leaning toward the idea. Without moving, he voiced his concern, "But won''t both sides resist the idea of their marriage?"


    "That is true. The Targaryen family has a long tradition in this matter, from ancient Valyrian times to the present day," Lyonel replied, seeing through the King''s concerns with ease. "Your Highness is still young and may not fully grasp the importance of this tradition. But as long as you persuade the princess, everything will go smoothly."


    Viserys, pleased with Lyonel''s assurance, smiled warmly. "Lyonel, you are truly invaluable to me. I often wonder what I would do without you."


    Lyonel, ever humble, adjusted his cor and replied solemnly, "As Hand of the King, I must humbly serve Your Grace to the best of my ability."


    "I will present your proposal to Rhaenyra and discuss it with herter," Viserys assured, offering his support.


    Compared to Lyonel Strong''s unwavering devotion to duty, the actions of former Hand of the King Otto Hightower paled inparison. Viserys couldn''t help but recall Otto''s many indiscretions, such as marrying his daughter to consolidate power, secretly gathering ministerial support for his grandson Aegon, and even attempting to persuade Viserys to change his heir several times.


    Were it not for these transgressions and Viserys'' reluctance to offend easily, Otto would not have been removed from office and sent back to the Old City to recuperate.


    As the two monarchs and ministers enjoyed their fine wine and talked in agreement, a sharp knock interrupted their conversation.


    Viserys frowned in annoyance. "What is it? I was discussing matters of state with the Hand of the King."


    The voice of Kingsguard Captain Harrold came from the door. "Your Grace, Prince Rhaegar has just returned from the Dragon''s Pit and the servants report that he is seriously injured!"


    Viserys'' concern grew at the news of his son''s injury. He rose hastily and rushed to open the door.


    Harrold''s expression was grave as he continued, "The servants say Prince Rhaegar suffered severe burns, indicating a failed attempt to tame the dragon."


    Viserys cursed under his breath as anger red within him, "Those fools in the Dragon''s Pit! How dare they allow Rhaegar to attempt such a dangerous feat in secret!"


    Lyonel interjected, trying to calm the situation. "Your Grace, now is not the time to ce me. We must first tend to the lord''s injuries."


    Indeed, injuries caused by Dragon me were often fatal, and any misstep could lead to dire consequences.


    The young prince was a vital asset to the realm, a cornerstone of the Targaryen family line. His untimely demise would be a devastating loss, especially at such a critical juncture.


    Viserys panicked as he realized the gravity of the situation. "We must act quickly. Take me to Rhaegar and summon the Grand Maester at once!"


    Viserys followed Harrold with shaky steps. His mind raced with worry. The urgency of the situation drove him forward, overriding all other thoughts.


    Harrold led Viserys down the stairs to Rhaegar''s room, ensuring the king''s safety andposure along the way.


    Upon reaching the door, Viserys glimpsed Rhaegar lying motionless on the bed, his injuries stark against his skin. Viserys felt a pang of pain shoot through his heart as he saw his son''s suffering.


    "Rhaegar!" His voice trembled with emotion as he rushed to his son''s side, his heart heavy with concern for the beloved prince.


    Off to the side, Grand Maester Mellos carefully unwound the bandages, his expression grave as he addressed Viserys about Rhaegar''s condition. "Your Grace, it''s best not to disturb the prince. His injuries are serious."


    Viserys turned to Mellos, his concern evident. "How is Rhaegar?"


    Mellos shook his head solemnly. "The situation is grave. He has suffered extensive burns from the dragon''s mes. Recovery will be a challenge."


    Viserys'' heart sank at the news. "Please spare no expense in procuring the necessary medicines to heal Rhaegar."


    The prospect of further loss weighed heavily on Viserys. He could not bear the thought of Rhaegar sumbing to such a tragic ident, especially after the prince''s recovery from his illness.


    As he contemted the prospect of exining Rhaegar''s fate to Rhaenyra, memories of histe wife, Aemma Arryn, haunted him. He couldn''t imagine the pain of facing another loss.


    Mellos assured Viserys, "There is no need for rare medicines. The prince''s wounds were tended to promptly by someone skilled."


    As Mellos carefully tended to Rhaegar''s wounds, the young prince stirred awake. Viserys'' voice trembled with emotion as he pleaded with the Grand Maester. "Please, do everything in your power to save him. I can''t bear to lose any more loved ones."

 Chapter 36: The Curse of the Chains

    Chapter 36: The Curse of the Chains


    "Father, I''m fine..." Rhaegar''s voice was soft, his expression serene despite the difort in his back.


    Viserys hovered uncertainly at the edge of the bed, his heart heavy with worry. "Rhaegar, my boy, did I disturb your rest?"


    "No, Father, it was not a deep sleep," Rhaegar reassured him with a gentle smile, reaching out to grasp his father''s hand for support. "I am blessed by the White Hart, destined to live a long life."


    Viserys returned the grip, relief washing over him. "You''re right, my son. You have the favor of the Seven, and no injury can defeat you."


    Summoning a faint smile, Viserys broached the delicate topic. "Some say your injuries urred while attempting to tame the dragon. Is there truth to that?"


    Rhaegar''s expression turned somber. "Yes, Father. I was on the verge of taming Dreamfyre."


    "Seven levels of hell! How dare you secretly tame a dragon alone behind your father''s back, especially Dreamfyre," Viserys eximed, his voice a mixture of shock and anger, his knees feeling weak beneath him.


    Rhaegar, sensing his father''s distress, tried to exin, "But Father, I was so close to gaining Dreamfyre''s trust."


    "I didn''t witness any of that! All I saw was my beloved son lying on a sickbed, covered in blisters the size of beans!" Viserys lectured, his voice trembling with a mix of frustration and concern, careful not to raise it too loud to avoid startling his injured son.Rhaegar''s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and frustration. "I''m not lying, Father. I could feel Dreamfyre''s recognition, its anger at being bound. It knows me!"


    "But Dreamfyre nearly killed you with its mes!" Viserys retorted, his voiceced with fear and disbelief.


    Rhaegar rushed to rify, "Someone reced Dreamfyre''s chains during the recognition ceremony. The moment it felt trapped, itshed out in anger."


    "Chains?" Viserys echoed, his expression now a mixture of shock and concern. "The chains forced Dreamfyre into submission?"


    Rhaegar nodded solemnly. "Yes, Father. It was an act of sabotage."


    Viserys sank into deep contemtion, his mind consumed by questions of who could have tampered with Dreamfyre''s chains and why. Lyonel''s voice broke through his thoughts from behind, "Your Majesty, Ser Erryk is waiting outside. Shall I summon him in?"


    Shaking himself from his reverie, Viserys responded irritably, "Yes, bring him in. I need to know what measures he took to safeguard my son."


    As Erryk entered the room, he walked with a hint of self-consciousness, making his way to the bed where Rhaegary, and knelt before the king.


    With a piercing gaze, Viserys addressed him in a cold tone, "Provide a thorough ount of today''s events, particrly how Rhaegar came to be injured. Leave no detail unspoken."


    "Yes, Your Majesty," Erryk responded, meeting the king''s gaze with unwavering resolve as he recounted the day''s events in front of all present in the room.


    In full view of those present, Erryk recounted the day''s events in meticulous detail.


    From the journey from the Red Keep to the smithy...


    To their entrance into the Dragon''s Pit and their encounters with Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon...


    And finally, Rhaegar''s solitary attempt to tame a dragon and his narrow escape from its maw...


    In just a matter of minutes, Erryk painted a vivid picture of the entire ordeal.


    As Viserys listened, his expression darkened with each passing moment, his anger directed squarely at Erryk for not keeping closer watch over Rhaegar.


    Seizing the opportunity to intervene, Lyonel suggested, "Your Majesty, the maester named Maynard seems suspicious. Perhaps we should begin our investigation with him."


    "Where is that wretch?" Viserys demanded, his tone harsh and impatient.


    Erryk responded quietly, "Maynard is currently being held in the dungeon under my watch."


    "Ser Harrold, handle this matter personally," Viserysmanded, his ire still palpable as he directed the experienced knight to deal with the prisoner.


    With the suspect secured, Viserys'' anger began to wane slightly, his attention once again turning to Rhaegar.


    The young prince hesitated before speaking, "Father, Maynard may not have had the courage to plot against me. Should we spare his life?"


    Viserys emitted a cold grunt in response, his frustration evident. "Are you still concerned for others at a time like this? I sometimes wonder if you''repassionate or simply naive."


    Despite his harsh words, Viserys acquiesced to his son''s request, instructing Harrold to ensure Maynard remained alive.


    Rhaegar turned his head towards Erryk, his voice soft as he spoke, "Ser Erryk fulfilled his duty faithfully; it was my arrogance that led to..."


    "Well, I can imagine what you''re going to say," Viserys interjected, impatiently pressing his hand. "I won''t be punishing him, is that all?"


    "Thank you, Father," Rhaegar replied, feeling a warmth spread within him as he settled back onto the bed.


    For a while, father and son sat in silence, the weight of the day''s events hanging heavily in the air.


    Sensing the need for privacy, Lyonel gestured to Erryk and Mellos, silently indicating that they should leave the room.


    Half a minuteter, Viserys turned his gaze towards the evening sun outside the window, his voice hesitant as he spoke, "You... truly came close to taming Dreamfyre?"


    Rhaegar nodded solemnly. "Yes, if not for that ursed chain, I believe I would have seeded."


    Once again, silence enveloped them, Viserys''s eyes flickering with a mixture of pride and concern.


    Dreamfyre was no ordinary dragon; it was a formidable creature, even among its kind. The thought of his son attempting to tame such a powerful beast filled Viserys with both admiration and trepidation.


    Gently stroking Rhaegar''s tousled hair, Viserys spoke with determination, "You did well, my son. Your father will ensure that justice is served."


    Rhaegar hesitated for a moment before speaking, "Father, I recently had a dream about the Dragon''s Pit, and I feelpelled to share it with you."


    "Speak, my son. Your gift of prophecy is a rare and precious thing, and I will listen attentively to whatever you have to say," Viserys replied, his interest piqued at the mention of prophetic dreams.


    Rhaegar employed the same rhetoric he had used when conversing with Rhaenyra, emphasizing the detrimental consequences of chaining dragons. "Dragons cannot be shackled with chains, or they will suffer a curse!"


    Viserys contemted, "Are you suggesting that the recent incident with Dreamfyre losing control is this so-called curse?"


    "No, not exactly," Rhaegar replied confidently. "The majority of incidents involving dragons losing control are man-made, not true curses. This may simply serve as a warning. If chains are used to restrict dragons again, it will invite even graver consequences."


    He was convinced that the ounts in ancient texts were not mere fantasies. Had Dreamfyre not been bound, he would have remained unharmed.


    Viserys''s expression shifted, and he made a firm decision. "The dreams will not be disregarded. I will conduct a thorough investigation of the Dragon''s Pit, rooting out any hidden threats."


    "But the family''s dragons require air in King''s Landing," Viserys continued, "so the Dragon''s Pit will remain. However, the chains can be removed as needed."


    Rhaegar agreed with his father''s approach. "As long as the dragons are free from chains, the curse will have no opportunity to manifest."


    As darkness enveloped the room, Viserys bid his eldest son farewell. "Rest well. I will see you tomorrow."


    "Goodnight, Father," Rhaegar obediently replied, watching his father depart.


    Alone in the room, Rhaegary on the bed, his body ravaged by pain. Despite his stoic demeanor in front of his father, the extent of his burns was severe. "The power of Dragon me is truly formidable. It''s a miracle I survived," he murmured through gritted teeth.


    Thanks to the effects of [Blood and Fire], his body had endured the burns. Otherwise, he might have been incinerated entirely.


    "Thank you once again, Balerion," Rhaegar whispered, his thoughts drifting to the skull of the great dragon ced in the sanctuary. A flicker of gratitude and relief crossed his eyes as he reflected on his miraculous survival.

 Chapter 37: A Little Sneak

    Chapter 37: A Little Sneak


    As Rhaegar pondered, a gentle knock interrupted his thoughts.


    Furrowing his brow in confusion, he wondered who could be visiting at this hour.


    "Brother, it''s me��" Hena''s soft voice drifted through the door.


    Recalling his promise from the previous night, Rhaegar responded, "Come in, the door''s open."


    With a soft crunch, the door creaked open, revealing Hena d in a silk nightgown, cautiously peering inside.


    Assured that the coast was clear, she entered the room with practiced stealth, swiftly closing the door behind her��a disy of skill akin to a seasoned thief.


    Amusement twinkled in Rhaegar''s eyes as he quipped, "What are you afraid of? Are there monsters lurking in my room?"


    Hena shook her head, pressing a finger to her lips. "Shhh, I snuck out; Mother''s still awake."


    "Is Alicent in your room?" Rhaegar inquired.Hena tiptoed to the bedside, replying, "She went to find Father."


    A wry smile tugged at Rhaegar''s lips, knowing full well that Alicent had likely been summoned by their father.


    That was for the best; at least he wouldn''t have to endure Alicent''s feigned sympathy.


    Turning his attention to Hena, Rhaegar gestured towards the firece. "I brought some toys, including a leather ball. Go take a look."


    "Yay!" Hena chirped, darting excitedly towards the array of toys by the hearth.


    Erryk was a stern individual,mitted to executing the tasks entrusted to him by Rhaegar with utmost seriousness.


    The toys procured were thetest fads from various shops, sure to delight the youngsters.


    Hena eagerly seized a vibrant leather ball and a plush dragon-shaped doll, her eyes sparkling with delight as she settled onto the carpet to explore her newfound treasures.


    Rhaegar watched with a gentle smile, allowing her to revel in her ytime without interruption, before reclining on the bed, his eyes drifting shut.


    He had pledged Hena a space where she could freely indulge in y, a promise he had no intention of reneging.


    Moreover, this newfound half-sister seemed to possess an uncanny intuition, making increased interaction seem prudent.


    Though it was not within her purview to assist him in deciphering thews of the Dreamer''s Gift, Rhaegar couldn''t shake the feeling that her unique abilities might hold significance.


    Afortable silence enveloped the room as the siblings pursued their individual pursuits.


    The handsomedy prostrate on the bed, his countenance pallid with illness, while his rosy-cheeked sister gleefully yed by the hearth.


    It was a tableau of familial warmth and serenity.


    Until Hena plucked a bright silver bracelet from the assortment, holding it up inquisitively. "Brother, is this bracelet for me too?"


    Rhaegar sniffed, eyeing the imitation crafted by the local cksmith, and nonchntly replied, "No, that''s mine."


    "Oh��" Hena murmured, a hint of disappointment flickering across her features as she set the bracelet aside.


    Observing her crestfallen expression, Rhaegar couldn''t shake the memory of his own past rejection, a pang of empathy tightening his chest.


    After a moment''s hesitation, he offered a gentle smile. "It''s yours now. Wear it if you like, as a gift from me to you."


    He couldn''t bear to see Hena experience rejection, just as he couldn''t bear to recall his own sister''s rejection of him.


    Brightening instantly, Hena beamed. "Thank you, brother. I really like it."


    "It''s nothing. You deserve what you love," Rhaegar replied softly, a twinge of difort gnawing at his injured back, his brow furrowing in pain.


    Noticing Rhaegar''s difort, Hena approached the bedside, clutching the bracelet, her expression puzzled. "Brother, why are you lying down and not moving?"


    "I''m nursing an injury. I can only lie still for a while," Rhaegar exined truthfully.


    "Does it hurt a lot? Aegon sometimes pinches me, and it hurts," Hena remarked innocently, offering to assist. Climbing onto the bed, she puckered her lips. "Let me help you. Blowing on it will make the pain go away."


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but chuckle at her earnestness, thoughughter exacerbated the ache in his back.


    "Cursed chains, why couldn''t they just kill me!" he cursed angrily, the pain intensifying as he vented his frustration at the treacherous restraints.


    Startled by Rhaegar''s outburst, Hena shrank into a corner of the bed, fear shing in her eyes.


    "Don''t be scared, I''m not angry with you. I''m just frustrated with the person who caused my injury," Rhaegar reassured her with a bitter smile, reaching out tofort his sister.


    It was a difficult moment for him��enduring his own pain while tending to his naive sister.


    Though Hena couldn''t hear his heart, her actions bespoke her own unique brand offort.


    Approaching Rhaegar cautiously, she pursed her lips and blew gently at his bandaged back.


    Observing her earnest efforts, Rhaegar felt an inexplicable sense of sce wash over him.


    Reaching out to stroke Hena''s silver locks, he smiled tenderly. "There, my wound doesn''t hurt anymore."


    Hena ceased her blowing and gazed at him with a puzzled expression, as if silently questioning, "Really?"


    Noticing the bracelet in her hand, Rhaegar offered, "Would you like me to help you put it on?"


    After a moment''s contemtion, Hena nodded.


    Taking the bracelet, Rhaegar gently fastened it around her wrist, finding it a perfect fit thanks to his past frailty.


    "Such a chubby little girl, just right for this bracelet," Rhaegar remarked with satisfaction.


    Unexpectedly, Hena''s demeanor shifted abruptly.


    Her smile vanished, reced by a pout as she withdrew from Rhaegar''s touch, turning away and curling into herself.


    Rhaegar''s smile faltered, surprised by the sudden change. He hadn''t realized that a two-year-old could be concerned about matters of weight.


    Calling out to Hena yielded no response; she remained stubbornly silent and motionless.


    Helpless, Rhaegar resigned himself to silence, turning his head to prepare for sleep.


    As for apologizing? Well, Targaryen men weren''t known for it.


    As the minutes ticked by, the night descended into darkness.


    Hena stole a nce at the sleeping Rhaegar before slipping out of bed and quietly leaving the room.


    ...


    On the flip side, Rhaenyra had just returned from Dragonstone Ind.


    Upon her arrival at the Red Keep, she was promptly summoned by an attendant to meet with the king.


    "Alright, wait for me while I change," Rhaenyra replied, eager to shed the chaos of the day and present herself before her father.


    After freshening up and changing her attire, Rhaenyra approached the door to Viserys'' chambers, poised to knock. However, before she could do so, the door swung open from within.


    Alicent emerged, adorned in an exquisite gown, catching Rhaenyra''s eye.


    In a rare disy of goodwill, Rhaenyra greeted her stepmother and former confidante with a warm smile.


    Alicent, however, forced a smile of her own and cautioned in a hushed tone, "Rhaegar is injured, your father is in a foul mood. Try not to provoke him."


    Though recent events had strained their once close rtionship, Alicent still harbored a modicum of loyalty towards Rhaenyra, courtesy of her father Otto Hightower''s influence.


    As news of Rhaegar''s injury reached her ears, Rhaenyra''s concern spiked. "How could Rhaegar be injured? Doesn''t he have Ser Erryk to protect him?"


    Before Alicent could respond, Viserys'' voice cut through the air, brimming with frustration. "Rhaenyra, must you keep your king waiting any longer?"


    "Forgive me, I must tend to the children," Alicent apologized with a regretful nce, swiftly passing by Rhaenyra.


    Furrowing her brow, Rhaenyra entered the room, finding Viserys seated at a stone sandbox, engrossed in crafting a dragon sculpture.

 Chapter 38: Father-Daughter Dispute

    Chapter 38: Father-Daughter Dispute


    Rhaenyra marched forward, her brow furrowed in concern. "Alicent mentioned Rhaegar''s injury. What happened?"


    Viserys responded with dissatisfaction, his tone heavy. "Rhaenyra, is this how you address your father and king?"


    Momentarily taken aback, Rhaenyra replied helplessly, "I apologize, Father. I''m just worried about Rhaegar."


    "Rhaegar is gravely injured, with extensive burns covering his body. The Grand Maester believes he may not survive," Viserys ryed the grim prognosis.


    Yet, despite the medical assessment, Viserys harbored a flicker of hope. Rhaegar''s demeanor had not suggested impending death; rather, he seemed surprisingly resilient. Viserys attributed this to divine intervention, a blessing from the Seven.


    Unaware of her brother''s condition, Rhaenyra stood frozen, her mind reeling with disbelief. She struggled toprehend the news, her world thrown into disarray.


    "He was fine this morning... How could this be happening?" she murmured, grappling with the harsh reality.


    Refusing to ept the dire situation, she demanded, "Where is Rhaegar? I must see him!"


    It took a moment for Rhaenyra to collect herself, her determination to see her brother overriding her shock.Viserys sneered, his wordsced with bitterness. "So, you still care for your brother? I thought your heart belonged to that bastard, Daemon."


    Indignant, Rhaenyra countered, "What nonsense! My allegiance lies with my family. Now, where is Rhaegar? He needs me."


    "He needs rest, not visitors," Viserys retorted, his tone unyielding, devoid of mercy.


    He had pieced together the events unfolding in the Dragon''s Pit today, including the exchanges between Rhaenyra and Daemon, both before and after.


    Sharp-witted as he was, Viserys detected a hint of desire in Daemon''s interactions with Rhaenyra.


    The notion of his own brother scheming for power with his own daughter was utterly intolerable to Viserys.


    He was determined to nip any potential mistakes in the bud.


    Observing her father''s stern demeanor, Rhaenyra felt uncertain and opted for a softer approach.


    Worry etched across her face, she implored, "Father, as Rhaegar''s sister, shouldn''t I at least know what happened to him?"


    Viserys didn''t withhold any details, sharing the full story with her.


    Rhaenyra gasped in disbelief, "Rhaegar attempted to tame Dreamfyre on his own? Is he out of his mind?"


    It wasmon knowledge that dragons were temperamental creatures, especially those like Dreamfyre, long confined in captivity.


    Rhaenyra''s own experiences in dragon-taming had been cautious endeavors, aided by dragon-keepers.


    Attempting to tame a solitary, adult dragon by force was tantamount to courting death.


    Every year on Dragonstone Ind, daring youths with Valyrian blood would ndestinely attempt to tame wild dragons, often meeting fiery ends.


    The prospect of Rhaegar''s being engulfed in dragon mes was unbearable to her.


    Had she not refused Rhaegar''s request to fly on a dragon, perhaps she could have prevented this perilous situation.


    Witnessing her daughter''s self-me, Viserys'' heart softened, and he decided to cease adding to her distress.


    Letting out a sigh, Viserys remarked, "Rhaegar was fortunate; his injuries from the dragon''s mes seem manageable. With proper care and rest, I believe he''ll recover without majorplications."


    "Thank the gods! I''m relieved to hear that Rhaegar''s life isn''t in jeopardy," Rhaenyra exhaled deeply, the weight on her chest easing.


    With the ice broken, Viserys transitioned to a more delicate matter, cing the killing stick on the stone statue, intending to broach the real purpose of their conversation.


    "Rhaenyra, do you harbor affections for anyone? Someone you admire?" Viserys inquired, his paternal concern mingled with a hint of awkwardness.


    As a father, asking such a question was a delicate dance, weighed with the future prospects of his daughter.


    Caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic, Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow skeptically, "Why this sudden interest? Have the lords begun proposing marriage alliances again?"


    "Ahem, no, of course not," Viserys cleared his throat, attempting to mask his difort. Regaining hisposure, he continued, "I simply want to ensure that if there''s someone you genuinely care for, you feelfortable confiding in me about it."


    "No, most of the men I''ve encountered are insufferable, and the few decent ones are far too arrogant," Rhaenyra retorted, her disdain evident as she spoke of the men who paraded their supposed superiority.


    Viserys sighed, feeling the weight of his daughter''s frustration, and tentatively broached the delicate subject, "What if I were to select a suitor for you, someone who meets all the necessary criteria for an advantageous match?"


    "Father, we agreed not to discuss this until after the tournament," Rhaenyra responded, visibly recoiling at the prospect of an arranged marriage.


    Viserys persisted, "Consider meeting the potential suitors; you may find one who surprises you."


    "Very well, but I doubt any of them will be to my liking," Rhaenyra conceded begrudgingly, her frustration evident as she turned away, unwilling to entertain the notion of marriage any further.


    As Rhaenyra''s gaze hardened, Viserys felt the weight of his daughter''s resistance. With a hint of frustration, he broached the delicate topic, "What are your thoughts on upholding our family traditions?"


    Rhaenyra''s expression shifted to one of skepticism as she reluctantly turned back to face her father. "Family traditions?" she repeated, already anticipating what he might suggest.


    Annoyance shed across her features as she continued, "You would sacrifice my happiness for the sake of the Iron Throne and entangle others in your schemes?"


    Viserys bristled at her usation, his voice rising in frustration. "Sacrifice your happiness? As a princess of the realm, it is your duty to enter into a suitable marriage," he retorted, his tone tinged with exasperation. "It''s a responsibility that even I, as king, cannot evade!"


    Rhaenyra remained unconvinced, her resolve unyielding. "If you''re so eager for a royal match, find one for yourself. I refuse to entertain the advances of those vultures, and I won''t be swayed by any ideas involving Rhaegar!" she dered defiantly.


    "Rhaenyra! Do you realize the foolishness of your words?" Viserys shot back, his anger palpable. "You are the princess and heir to the Iron Throne, enjoying all the privileges and prestige thate with it, and yet you refuse to fulfill your duty!"


    "But instead of embracing your responsibilities, you only care about your own desires, refusing to make any sacrifices for your position!" he continued, his gaze piercing. "Is this the sense of duty expected of the heir to the Iron Throne?"


    Rhaenyra''s jaw tightened, her resolve unshaken. "Power is earned, not given. I won''tpromise my principles for the sake of appeasing others," she countered firmly.


    "What have you fought for? What aplishments do you have to your name, besides your birthright as heir?" Viserys snapped, his frustration boiling over.


    A bitter smile tugged at Rhaenyra''s lips as she responded coolly, "Is that what you''ve been wanting to say all along? That I''m not worthy of being your heir?"


    "You have sons now��Aegon, Aemond," she continued, her voice tinged with bitterness. "Especially Rhaegar, who is now in good health. You no longer need a daughter as your heir."


    Viserys immediately shook his head in denial. "No! While I may have had doubts at times, I still recognize you as my rightful heir," he insisted earnestly.


    "A female heir may be unconventional, but if you don''t choose a strong partner from a powerful house, you''ll struggle to maintain your position on the Iron Throne," he reasoned, his tone softening slightly. "He is innocent and has Targaryen blood. His status will help solidify your rule."

 Chapter 39: Conflict Intensifies

    Chapter 39: Conflict Intensifies


    Viserys spoke earnestly, baring his soul to his daughter.


    His words hung in the air,den with hope, as he looked at her with anticipation.


    He prayed silently that his words would touch her heart, guiding her back to her true self.


    But Rhaenyra''s eyes welled up with tears, her gaze meeting her father''s with a mix of sorrow and determination.


    It was evident that she was wrestling with her inner turmoil, her emotions in turmoil.


    Finally, in a choked voice, she confessed, "I never considered it. All I want is someone who will protect me and love me sincerely."


    For the first time, sheid bare her true feelings, albeit in a veiled manner.


    Ever since her mother''s passing, Rhaenyra had been haunted by a sense of emptiness and fear.


    She dreaded the idea of marrying someone she didn''t love, bing nothing more than a tool for bearing children.She couldn''t forget the day her father, out of love for her mother, had chosen to save her brother at the cost of her mother''s life.


    The memory ofmanding Syrax to cremate her mother''s remains with dragonfire still haunted her.


    Rhaenyra feared that she would meet the same fate, trapped in a loveless marriage and subjected to the same tragic end.


    In her mind, the ideal husband was a tall, gentle man who would cherish her with every fiber of his being.


    It was this elusive dream that had led her to harbor a faint affection for the ever-gentle Cole.


    Unaware of the depth of his daughter''s emotions, Viserys responded with surface-level reassurance.


    Thinking he had understood her concerns, he suggested, "Perhaps you can take some time to get to know each other first. There''s no rush to marry; you''re both still young and have plenty of time to develop feelings for each other."


    But Rhaenyra was resolute, shaking her head vigorously. "No! You don''t understand. We can''t dictate his future for him."


    As she spoke, Rhaenyra couldn''t help but feel a pang of sorrow for herself, her words also reflecting her concerns for Rhaegar''s fate.


    Undeterred, Viserys attempted to continue persuading her, but Rhaenyra couldn''t bear to listen any longer. She covered her ears and fled from the room, unable to bear any more of her father''s attempts to sway her.


    She couldn''t stand the way he always seemed to force her into submission.


    As he watched his daughter''s retreating figure, Viserys felt a surge of frustration. He mmed his cup down heavily, feeling indignant and unappreciated.


    Despite his efforts, everything he did seemed to be met with ingratitude, even though it was all for the sake of his daughter''s future.


    ...


    Time flew by, and three dayster, the martial artspetition site was bustling with activity.


    Viserys sat in the main seat, a smile ying on his lips as he listened to Hand of the King Lyonel''s report.


    "Your Majesty, the Dragon''s Pit has been thoroughly investigated and cleaned up. Through the testimony of an elderly dragon keeper, it was confirmed that Maester Bass of Oldtown took the initiative to rece Dreamfyre''s chains."


    "The reasoning provided was that Dreamfyre''s short temper often led to aggressive behavior when the other dragons brought livestock. Thus, shorter chains were installed to restrict her movements and ensure the safety of the keepers."


    Viserys raised an eyebrow at Lyonel''s report. "Do you truly believe such a simplistic exnation?"


    Lyonel shook his head. "I do not, Your Majesty. The exnation seems rather contrived."


    "And what of the illegitimate child imprisoned in the dungeon? Could he be involved in this matter?" Viserys inquired, recalling Maynard, whom Rhaegar had pleaded to spare.


    "At present, there is no evidence linking the man to Prince Rhaegar''s attempted murder. Maester Bass has stated that he harbors disdain for his own birth," Lyonel replied honestly.


    After a moment of consideration, Viserys waved his hand dismissively. "Since it seems inconsequential, let us leave it be."


    "Prince Rhaegar''s injuries were promptly treated by thatd, otherwise they would not have healed so swiftly," Lyonel remarked with a gentle smile. "The prince''s resilience is truly remarkable, a testament to the blessings of the Seven."


    However, his tone turned grave as he added in a hushed tone, "Maester Bass''s involvement remains suspicious. I am unsure of how to proceed."


    A cold glint shed in Viserys''s eyes as he responded, "The maesters of Oldtown are meant to serve the people. When a servant oversteps their bounds, what is the appropriate punishment?"


    "Is severing his hands sufficient?" Lyonel asked, his voice matching Viserys''s severity.


    "It shall be so. And if he desires to take the ck and join the Night''s Watch, do not hinder him," Viserys decreed.


    Lyonel bowed respectfully and took his leave, his mind already upied with the political matters that awaited him.


    Once the Hand of the King departed, only Daemon and Rhaenyra remained by Viserys'' side. Today marked the final day of the tournament, and most members of the royal family were expected to attend.


    Rhaenyra, who had been listening in from the sidelines, turned back and voiced her discontent. "That deceitful maester nearly cost Rhaegar his life, and you''re just going to forgive him so easily?"


    Viserys furrowed his brow. "Maesters are answerable to Oldtown, and we cannot pass judgment on them arbitrarily. Severing their hands or consigning them to the Night''s Watch is no trifling punishment."


    "But Rhaegar nearly died because of him. He deserves to pay with his life," Rhaenyra insisted, her resolve unwavering.


    "You cannot let your emotions dictate justice. Power is not a weapon to wield recklessly; a king''s duty is to uphold justice," Viserys replied, quelling any further argument from Rhaenyra with a stern look.


    "Hmph," Rhaenyra huffed in frustration, her suggestions once again brushed aside as she shifted her position.


    Meanwhile, Daemon observed the father-daughter dispute in silence, a smug, disdainful smirk ying at the corners of his mouth. He had long been acquainted with his brother''s weak disposition and indecisive nature.


    Viserys remained oblivious to his brother''s disdain, fully absorbed in the proceedings below. In his mind, he saw nothing amiss in his handling of the situation. A king, he believed, must exercise restraint and refrain from indulging in selfish desires or bending thew to suit his whims.


    ...


    The battles within the tournament arena raged on fiercely, with various contests like charges, melees, and mounted archery already concluded, leaving only the pivotal dueling event to determine the champion. With thousands of eager spectators watching intently, the two final contestants stepped into the dueling arena for their ultimate showdown.


    On one side stood a towering warrior hailing from Casterly Rock, d in imposing heavy armor and brandishing a broadsword. Opposite him stood the unexpected underdog of the tournament, the Water Dancer - Syrio Friar.


    Syrio''s swordsmanship was nothing short of exceptional, his lithe body moving with the fluidity of a snake and the agility of a rabbit. With each graceful strike, he deftly dodged his opponent''s attacks, aiming precisely for the weak points in his adversary''s armor and drawing forth sshes of vibrant blood.


    In less than a quarter of an hour, the duel reached its conclusion, with Syrio emerging victorious in a disy of unparalleled skill and finesse. As the cheers of nobles andmoners alike filled the arena, the moment arrived for the king to bestow the rewards.


    One by one, the top finishers received their prizes and des from the king until it was Syrio''s turn. Kneeling before Viserys, Syrio received a genuine smile from the monarch.


    "I remember you," Viserys remarked warmly. "You spoke of decimating the champion, and it seems you were not merely boasting."


    With all due respect, Syrio replied, "Your Honorable Majesty, Syrio does not dare to boast before the kingdom."


    Viserys nodded in approval. "Very well, as I promised, you may make your request known."


    Without hesitation, Syrio expressed his desire, "I hail from distant Braavos, with no family, no honor to my name... I humbly request to remain at the Red Keep and serve, perhaps as a dance teacher."


    Viserys arched a curious brow. "Why stay at the Red Keep when you could pursue knighthood?"


    Syrio''s response was swift and unwavering. "For your eldest son, Prince Rhaegar."


    "Rhaegar?" Viserys echoed, taken aback by the unexpected mention.


    "Prince Rhaegar embodies both virtue and wisdom," Syrio continued earnestly. "It is a blessing for the realm to have such a prince. I wish to remain at the Red Keep and impart my knowledge of swordsmanship to him, ensuring he bes a peerless warrior and valiant knight in his adulthood."

 Chapter 40: Abolishing the Chains

    Chapter 40: Abolishing the Chains


    Syrio''s promation echoed throughout the martial arts arena,manding the attention of all those gathered.


    It was a rare sight indeed, to witness someone openly dere their allegiance to the king''s eldest son, drawing curious nces from every corner of the arena.


    In response to Syrio''s bold deration, Viserys listened intently, his expression a mixture of contemtion and receptiveness.


    "Swordsman, Iprehend your intentions," he began, his voiceden with consideration. "But should you truly aspire to serve my son, your dedication must be unwavering, and your intentions pure."


    With a solemn flourish, Syrio hoisted his iron sword aloft, solemnly pledging his allegiance to young Rhaegar Targaryen until the time of his ascension to manhood, vowing to safeguard his honor and authority.


    This scene unfolded under the watchful gaze of those eager to discern Princess Rhaenyra''s reaction from her elevated vantage point.


    Rhaenyra maintained her poised demeanor, her smile unwavering as she upied her seat with grace.


    To the spectators, it appeared as though she genuinely rejoiced for her brother, disying no outward signs of concern.


    Yet unbeknownst to the crowd, Rhaenyra discreetly pinched the root of her thigh beneath her sleeve, a subtle indication of her inner conflict.Meanwhile, Viserys discreetly observed his daughter''s response, silently acknowledging herposure with a nod of approval.


    Taking Syrio''s iron sword and draping it across his shoulder, Viserys spoke with authority, his voice resonating throughout the arena, "In acknowledgment of your loyalty, I hereby name you royal dance instructor and bestow upon you the title of Ser. May you fulfill your oath with unwavering fidelity."


    "Your Majesty''s generosity knows no bounds," Syrio replied with profound respect.


    With the conclusion of this momentous event, the tournament marking the fifth anniversary of the king and queen''s reign drew to a close.


    As nobles and knights alike began to make their way out of the arena, they followed the king''s lead back to the Red Keep, where a sumptuous banquet awaited them.


    Among the departing throng, Rhaenyra moved with poise, her countenanceposed yet betraying a hint of inner conflict.


    Daemon trailed behind her, observing his niece closely, a flicker of satisfaction dancing in his eyes at the subtle signs of her difort.


    ...


    As the soft melodies of music and the gentle rhythm of dancing filled the halls of the Red Keep, signaling the onset of night, Rhaenyra found herself disinterested in the festivities, opting instead for an early retirement. Her steps led her down familiar corridors until she stood before her brother''s door.


    Pausing, she realized the familiar routine of her nightly pilgrimage to check on Rhaegar since his injury. The weight of her father''s recent proposal lingered heavily on her mind, the idea of forging an alliance with her brother far more appealing than a marriage to a stranger.


    Her hand hesitated over the door, but the tinklingughter of a young girl from within spurred her forward. Without conscious thought, Rhaenyra pushed the door open.


    Stepping into the room, she found her brother and Hena sprawled on the bed with a chessboard between them.


    "Rhaenyra, you''vee?" Rhaegar greeted warmly, inviting her to join them in their game.


    Closing the door behind her, Rhaenyra crossed the room to sit beside Hena, gently stroking her sister''s head. "Since when have you two be so close?" she wondered aloud.


    Hena responded with a silent but affectionate smile, her innocent eyes meeting Rhaenyra''s gaze.


    Returning the smile, Rhaenyra felt a sense of warmth towards her sister, finding sce in her simplicitypared to her brother''splexities.


    Rhaegar, noticing her presence, exined, "Hena seeks refuge from Aegon''s bullying, so I''ve allowed her to join me and y with her toys whenever she likes." He gestured towards a pile of toys nearby, indicating their purpose.


    Surprised by the revtion, Rhaenyra nodded, having previously mistaken the toys as Rhaegar''s own possessions.


    As the evening unfolded, Rhaenyra chose not to dwell on her father''s offer, instead focusing on guiding Hena through their chess game.


    Turning to her brother, she inquired about his well-being. Rhaegar''s response was positive, his mood buoyant as he reassured her about his healing wound.


    "The Grand Maester mentioned something intriguing," Rhaegar continued, excitement creeping into his tone. "He believes I possess a unique physique, one that could potentially make me a formidable warrior in the future."


    Rhaenyra listened intently, her thoughts drifting briefly to the events of the day.


    Silently pondering her father''s encounter with Syrio, she opted not to broach the subject with her brother, allowing him the freedom to form his own opinions about the enigmatic swordsman.


    Their conversation then shifted to the recent incident at the Dragon''s Pit.


    Rhaegar: "Has there been any progress regarding the Dragon''s Pit?"


    Rhaenyra: "Yes, Maester Bass, the one who secretly switched the shackles, was apprehended. Father sentenced him to either have his hands severed or don the ck robes and head to the Wall."


    Rhaegar: "There are indeed rotten apples among the maesters from Oldtown. Such individuals deserve a public execution; such punishment is far too lenient."


    "I proposed harsher punishment to father, but he dismissed it," Rhaenyra said with a helpless shrug.


    Rhaegar gave her a sympathetic look and said no more.


    He understood that his sister''s life was not without its difficulties, despite her noble status as the heir. Her suggestions often fell on deaf ears.


    Rhaegar''s thoughts then turned to Dreamfyre, the light blue dragon, and he asked earnestly, "How is Dreamfyre faring? Have the chains been removed?"


    "Don''t worry, father ordered the removal of all chains within the Dragon''s Pit, creating separate areas to allow the dragons more freedom of movement," Rhaenyra assured him.


    She shared his sentiment, not wanting any of the dragons to suffer in captivity. Creating separate spaces for them seemed like the right decision.


    Rhaegar breathed a sigh of relief, "Dreamfyre has endured captivity for decades. I sincerely hope it finds a new rider soon and takes to the skies once more."


    After witnessing his eldest son''s recent recklessness, Viserys made the decision to retreat with his family to Dragonstone Ind for a period of respite. The Small Council reached a consensus that it was time to select newborn dragons for Rhaegar and Aegon to bond with.


    On Dragonstone Ind, two suitable young dragons awaited, perfectly suited for each of the brothers to form a connection with.


    With this n set in motion, Rhaegar relinquished the idea of taming Dreamfyre and eagerly anticipated the adventures that awaited them on Dragonstone.


    Observing her sentimental brother, Rhaenyra smiled knowingly, her tone cool as she remarked, "Should father decide to arrange a marriage for you, what will you do?"


    Rhaegar''s hand, paused mid-y on the chessboard, furrowed his brow in contemtion. "If it bes necessary, I am prepared to shoulder my fair share of responsibility."


    Though still young, much of his understanding came from the pages of books. Throughout the annals of Targaryen history, both men and women had been bound by marriage, save for a few rare exceptions.


    Aegon the Conqueror himself had taken two wives: Visenya out of duty, and Rhaenys out of desire.


    Subsequent monarchs had either wed daughters of influential houses or kept to the family line through intermarriage.


    Even his own father, Viserys, and uncle Daemon were wed to noblewomen from the Vale to ensure loyalty among supporters of the crown.


    Given this tradition, Rhaegar saw little chance of evading the fate of marriage. His only hope was to wed a woman of pleasing appearance and gentle demeanor within the confines of propriety; to aspire for more would be folly.


    Hearing her brother''s response, Rhaenyra lowered her gaze,psing into silence.


    She understood all too well that Rhaegar spoke truth.


    Perhaps, she mused, she had been too whimsical, and now must bear the weight of responsibility upon her own shoulders.


    After a prolonged moment, Rhaenyra smiled once more. After exchanging a few more words with Rhaegar, she bid him farewell and departed.


    Alone in the room, Rhaegar stared at the closed door, rendered speechless by his sister''s visit.


    He surmised the reason for Rhaenyra''s nocturnal visit��it was likely prompted by their father''s insistence on her betrothal, seeking sce in hispany.


    But Rhaegar could not offer Rhaenyra the reassurance she sought.


    To speak hollow words simply to cate her desires would lead to consequences beyond measure.


    Wearing a crown was not about asserting dominance; it was about shining brightly under its weight for all to see.

 Chapter 41: Sneaking Away for a Trip

    Chapter 41: Sneaking Away for a Trip


    As she left Rhaegar''s room, her already heavy mood seemed to worsen.


    All she longed for was to return to her chamber, immerse herself in a steaming bath, and curl up under theforting warmth of her covers for a restful night''s sleep.


    The day had proven to be too much for her.


    As the morning dawned, a new day unfolded.


    Greeting Cole, who stood guard outside her door, Rhaenyra entered her room with a weariness that weighed heavily upon her.


    Absentmindedly removing her jewelry, she instinctively poured herself a cup of wine from the nearby table.


    In the midst of her actions, her attention was suddenly drawn to a package lying conspicuously on the table.


    The sudden appearance of the package piqued Rhaenyra''s curiosity, and she took a cautious look around the room.


    Satisfied that she was alone, she carefully pinched a corner of the package, causing its contents to spill out onto the table.Among the items were a set of simple hemp garments and a piece of parchment with a rudimentary map on it.


    Examining the map closely, Rhaenyra was astonished to find that it detailed theyout of the secret passageways within the Red Keep, including her very own room.


    Following the map''s instructions, she located a wall adorned with a carved mural that, when pressed, revealed a concealed doorway leading to the night-shrouded exterior of the fortress.


    Beyond the door was a staircase whose descent was shrouded in mystery.


    A mischievous smile graced Rhaenyra''s lips as she contemted the adventure thaty ahead.


    An avid explorer by nature, she relished the thrill of discovery - a sensation akin to flying astride a dragon.


    Determined to indulge her curiosity, Rhaenyra shed her borate gown in favor of the humble hemp garment.


    Satisfied that there was no discernible odor emanating from the garment, she ventured out and slipped into the hidden passageway that awaited beyond her room.


    Navigating the shadowy tunnels, she passed the chamber where Balerion''s colossal skull rested, and finally reached a secluded corner of the Red Keep.


    There she encountered a figure cloaked in ck, patiently awaiting her arrival.


    At the sight of the familiar face, Rhaenyra gasped in astonishment.


    "Daemon?"


    Her uncle''s presence took her by surprise.


    With a mischievous grin, Daemon extended an invitation. "Would you care to venture out and explore unseen sights?"


    Though hesitant at first, Rhaenyra was swayed by the prospect of adventure.


    Daemon''s teasing only fueled her resolve.


    "I''m not afraid," she replied defiantly. "Lead the way."


    With a nod, Daemon pulled on his hood and motioned for her to follow.


    Excitement mingled with apprehension as Rhaenyra trailed behind, eager to join their ndestine escapade.


    ...


    Daemon led the way through the bustling Silk Street, the heart of the city''s nighttime activity.


    Compared to its daytime counterpart, the street was alive with a cacophony of sounds and a riot of color. People bustled about, merchants hawked their wares, and the air was thick with the scent of spices and exotic goods.


    Despite her royal upbringing and training in etiquette, Rhaenyra was taken aback by the scene before her.


    The crowded alleys teemed with a variety of characters, from merchants haggling over prices to street performers entertaining the masses. Men and women revelled in the festivities, heedless of the judgment of onlookers, their extravagant antics drawing curious nces.


    Shielding her face from the asional waft of filth, Rhaenyra could not help but marvel at the vibrant chaos surrounding her.


    Peering through the gaps between her fingers, she soaked up the sights and sounds of the bustling Silk Street, realizing that she had never experienced anything like it before.


    As they explored further, they came upon a bustling circus where a crowd had gathered to watch a theatrical performance centered on the Targaryen royal family.


    The stage was alive with activity as actors brought the Targaryen saga to life. Amidst the colorful spectacle, two men took on the roles of children, while a clown in a white dress portrayed a whimsical princess.


    With exaggerated gestures and yful banter, the lead actor told the story in aical tone.


    "Now, let us delve into the saga of the mighty Iron Throne and consider who shall im its seat," he announced theatrically.


    "As our benevolent king names his own daughter as heir, the former queen, burdened with a lethargic son, fades into obscurity."


    "But lo and behold, a new queen appears, bearing a healthy son of her own! So the question arises: Who will inherit the throne?"


    "Will it be the king''s sibling, his daughter, or perhaps his sons from different wombs?"


    In the midst of the y''s climax, the two actors portraying the children engaged in a lively scuffle, each proiming his identity with gusto.


    "I am Aegon, bearing the name of the conqueror, embodying majesty and power!" one shouted.


    "And I am the slumbering dragon, scion of the king, ready to unleash my wrath upon you!" dered the other.


    The audience erupted in cheers and apuse, swept away by the theatrical fervor.


    However, Rhaenyra was unable to share in the excitement, her smile fading as she watched the spectacle unfold before her, her understanding of the performance eluding her.


    As the actor portraying Rhaegar pinned his opponent to the ground, he delivered his lines with dramatic ir.


    "I am the king''s eldest son, unmatched in skill and power!" he proimed, his words echoing across the stage.


    Below him, the actor ying the opponent writhed and begged for mercy, adding to the intensity of the scene.


    The audience, caught up in the drama, grew increasingly animated, their cheers echoing through the air.


    Rhaenyra couldn''t helpughing, her dissatisfaction evident as she red at Daemon. "Ame joke, and you brought me to see it?"


    Daemon replied nonchntly, "Indeed, it''s just a joke. But manymoners believe that male heirs like Rhaegar and Aegon should inherit."


    "It matters little what they believe," Rhaenyra retorted, eager to move on from the uninspiring spectacle.


    As they continued on their way, Daemon''s voice drifted back to her. "If you aspire to rule someday, their beliefs have meaning."


    "Psh, sometimes I wish I could shed the weight of being the heir," Rhaenyra remarked, her tone tinged with self-deprecation.


    "Hehe, relinquishing that position would only elevate others," Daemon remarked pointedly.


    Rhaenyra shot him an unhappy look. "And that includes you!"


    Daemon merely grinned, his expression unchanged.


    Fed up, Rhaenyra grabbed a jar of preserves from a nearby vendor and hurled it at him before turning and scurrying away amid the din of the bustling street.


    Despite themotion, her cathartic outburst was met with cheers that echoed her sentiments.


    Daemon''s face remained impassive as he deftly dodged the vendor and took up the chase, his steps quickening to match hers.


    ...


    As the night grewte, Hena, tired from ying, had retired to her bed, and Rhaegar, left alone, turned out the light and settled down to rest.


    As he drifted off to sleep, Rhaegar found himself once again in the grip of a dream.


    In this dream, he wore a white robe and held a sword tightly in his hand. His surroundings were littered with broken weapons and lifeless bodies, a scene of carnage and chaos.


    Bewildered and disoriented, Rhaegar was ovee by a sickening wave of blood and death, the stench assaulting his senses.


    Bowing his head in disgust, he noticed a faint speck of blood creeping across the pristine white fabric of his robe, seemingly materializing out of thin air.


    Before he could investigate further, the stains began to spread rapidly, multiplying in number until they consumed half of the once pristine robe, ominously dripping crimson droplets.


    A chilling gust of wind swept through the Dream Realm, causing the stained robe to billow and p, shrouding Rhaegar''s head in an eerie veil.


    As Rhaegar witnessed this eerie spectacle, he was struck with an inexplicable terror, his heart pounding in his chest as fear gripped him.


    As the cold wind swirled around him, Rhaegar''s mind raced with panicked thoughts.


    "If I don''t move, the blood will stain me," he realized as a wave of fear coursed through him.


    Desperately, he tried to dodge the impending fall of the tainted robe, scrambling away in a desperate attempt to escape its grasp.


    But no matter how fast he moved or how far he ran, the robe loomed ominously over him, its half-white, half-red form trailing closely behind him like a sinister shadow.


    With each step, Rhaegar''s heart pounded louder in his chest, his breathsing in short, ragged gasps as he fought against the relentless pursuit of the bloodstained robe.


    But try as he might, he could not outrun its relentless advance, his efforts proving futile against the unseen forces at y.


    A profound sense of helplessness washed over him, rendering him immobile as the blood-soaked robe hovered ominously above him, ready to descend upon him at any moment.


    "No!" he cried in terror, his voice echoing through the room as he jerked awake from the nightmarish vision, his body drenched in cold sweat.


    Rhaegar winced as he tried to sit up, his fingers identally brushing the tender scab on his back, causing a sharp hiss of pain that brought him back to reality.


    "Another nightmare..." he muttered through clenched teeth, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes as he clenched his fists against the agony coursing through him.


    With a frustrated sigh, he buried his face in the pillow, his heart heavy with the weight of his torment.


    But just as he began to drift back into the restless embrace of sleep, a strange sound caught his attention - the melodious call of a cuckoo drifting in through the open window.


    His brow furrowed in confusion. "Cuckoos?" he wondered aloud, his senses sharpening as he strained to discern the source of the unfamiliar sound.


    But the rhythmic melody persisted, its cadence disturbingly consistent and out of ce amid the usual cacophony of cicadas that filled the Red Keep.


    A feeling of uneasiness settled over him, the dissonance of the birdsong setting his nerves on edge.


    "There shouldn''t be cuckoos in the Red Keep..." he murmured, a flicker of concern creeping into his voice as he considered the anomaly.


    Something wasn''t right.

 Chapter 42: The Mysterious Visitor

    Chapter 42: The Mysterious Visitor


    Intrigued, Rhaegar gingerly propped himself up, careful not to aggravate his wounds, and slowly made his way to the window.


    Looking down, he discovered that the source of the strange birdsong was not a cuckoo at all, but rather a small swordsman with curly brown locks.


    Syrio stood in the garden below, cupping his hands over his mouth as he continued to mimic the cuckoo''s call.


    Furrowing his brow, Rhaegar leaned out the window and called down, "What''s all the racket at this hour?"


    As soon as Syrio spotted Rhaegar, he bowed respectfully and quickly left the room, offering no exnation.


    "Strange..." Rhaegar muttered, shaking his head in confusion as he closed the window.


    His mind raced with questions. Was his nightmare a vision? And if so, what did it foretell?


    But another thought soon interrupted his thoughts. "Why is Syrio here in the Red Keep?"


    A sudden realization dawned on Rhaegar, and he called to his squire, Erryk, who was standing just outside the door."Erryk, I need to talk to you."


    The door creaked open as Erryk stepped inside, his expression alert. "What is it, My Lord?"


    Rhaegar wasted no time in recounting his encounter with Syrio.


    Erryk nodded in understanding. "Syrio won the duel at the tournament and requested an audience with the king. He pledged his service to you."


    "To me?" Rhaegar echoed, surprised at the revtion.


    Erryk borated, exining that Syrio had sought to be Rhaegar''s sword-master and had remained in the Red Keep to do so.


    The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into ce, but Rhaegar couldn''t shake the uneasy feeling that lingered in the back of his mind.


    Rhaegar pondered the reason for Syrio''ste night visit. "If he got what he wanted, why did he disturb me in the middle of the night? Could he have something pressing to discuss?"


    "It is possible, Your Grace," Erryk replied cautiously. "But given theteness of the hour, it may not be safe to meet him alone."


    Erryk''s words echoed the caution in Rhaegar''s mind. The king had ordered that he not be left alone with Syrio, and for good reason.


    Still, an unsettling feeling gnawed at Rhaegar''s heart. His nightmares had made him feel strangely connected to Syrio, and he couldn''t shake the urge to meet him.


    After a moment''s hesitation, Rhaegar made up his mind. "Ser Erryk, apany me to the garden. I need to know what Syrio wants."


    Erryk nodded solemnly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Of course, Your Grace. Allow me to assist you."


    With Erryk''s help, Rhaegar made his way down to the garden, his injuries slowing his pace but not dampening his determination.


    Under the dim light of the moon, they found Syrio waiting patiently beneath the Fishbeam Tree.


    Upon meeting him, Rhaegar''s curiosity grew. "Syrio, what brings you here at thiste hour?"


    Syrio offered a warm smile. "I apologize for the unexpected visit, but something caught my attention and I feltpelled to share it with you."


    Intrigued, Rhaegar leaned forward. "Please, tell me what you have observed."


    With a thoughtful expression, Syrio recounted, "After the banquet ended, I was strolling through the garden when I noticed two figures slipping away discreetly."


    "Who were they? Did you recognize them?" Rhaegar''s interest was piqued.


    "One was dressed in humble garb, wearing a worn hat. But it was unmistakably your sister, Princess Rhaenyra," Syrio exined, his tone tinged with certainty.


    As Syrio described the encounter, Rhaegar''s skepticism grew. "And the other figure?"


    Syrio hesitated for a moment before answering, "The second figure had a distinct presence, though its identity eluded me. However, if I remember correctly, it resembled Prince Daemon, who left the banquet early."


    Though Syrio''s words were cryptic, the implication was clear.


    Rhaenyra and Daemon had left the Red Keep in secret.


    Rhaegar''s brow furrowed deeper as he absorbed Syrio''s revtion.


    Indeed, Rhaenyra and Daemon shared a close bond that was well known throughout the Red Keep.


    Since their youth, Rhaenyra had looked up to her uncle with reverence, and Daemon, in turn, had showered her with affection and gifts during their interactions.


    Given their rtionship, sneaking out together might not have seemed out of character.


    However, Syrio''s behavior suggested something more troubling.


    With a heavy heart, Rhaegar asked, "Is there more to this?"


    Syrio''s hesitation confirmed Rhaegar''s suspicions.


    Summoning his resolve, Rhaegar pressed for rity. "Speak inly, what else have you learned?"


    Syrio confessed, his voice tinged with difort, "I overheard Prince Daemon''s servant booking a suite at a brothel on Silk Street for tonight."


    The revtion hit Rhaegar like a thunderbolt, freezing him in ce as he processed the implications.


    "Brothel... suite... Demon... and Rhaenyra?"


    The possibility, scandalous even for the Targaryens, began to materialize in Rhaegar''s mind.


    Yet the idea of Daemon''s involvement in such matters did not seem inconceivable.


    Daemon, known for his cunning and ambition, was not one to adhere to conventional morality.


    Erryk interjected, breaking the weighty silence, "Your Highness, this matter demands immediate attention. I suggest we inform His Majesty immediately."


    The gravity of the situation dawned on Rhaegar as he realized the potential implications of Daemon''s actions.


    If he had indeed lured Princess Rhaenyra to a brothel, it would be a serious offense, tantamount to treason against the crown.


    "Wait, let''s not alert my father just yet," Rhaegar interjected quickly, his tone urgent.


    He knew all too well the consequences of his father''s rage-a storm that could wreak havoc on their family''s stability and reputation.


    With a heavy heart, he acknowledged the potential ramifications of this revtion: Rhaenyra''s honor could be irreparably tarnished, casting a shadow over her entire line.


    His mind raced as he turned to Syrio, seeking rity. "How long have they been gone?"


    Syrio''s answer was measured, tinged with contemtion. "About half an hour."


    Rhaegar studied him intently, a hint of doubt lingering. "Are you absolutely sure it was my sister? A misidentification could be disastrous."


    Syrio''s oath was solemn, his conviction unshakeable. "I swear by the old and new gods that my eyes do not deceive me."


    Satisfied but wary, Rhaegar gave a firm order. "Let us keep this matter under wraps for now, understood?"


    His tone carried a veiled warning, leaving no room for misinterpretation.


    Syrio nodded respectfully before leaving, his mission aplished.


    Alone in the garden, Rhaegar''s thoughts raced with apprehension and uncertainty.


    Syrio''s sudden appearance had stirred a whirlwind of suspicion, but there was no time to dwell on it.


    With a sense of urgency, Rhaegar set out to find Rhaenyra.


    "Ser, let''s leave at once and find my sister," Rhaegar urged, his concern for Rhaenyra palpable.


    The urgency of the situation forced him to act quickly, lest harme to his beloved sister.


    But Erryk hesitated, his brow furrowed in apprehension. "It is a daunting task, searching for her alone might prove futile."


    But Rhaegar was determined, his resolve unyielding. "It doesn''t matter. Daemon undoubtedly frequents thergest brothel on Silk Street - that is where we must go."


    With steely determination, he dered, "Daemon''s intentions toward my sister are clear. We must intervene before she is harmed."


    Erryk nodded in agreement, recognizing the gravity of the situation. "Yes, Prince. It seems we must solve this mystery before it spirals out of control."


    As they prepared to leave, Rhaegar''s mind raced with suspicion.


    Syrio''s sudden revtion raised doubts - were his intentions truly benevolent, or did he harbor ulterior motives?


    Pausing midstride, Rhaegar halted their progress. "Wait, Ser!"


    He needed time to dissect the tangled web of deceit that surrounded them.


    The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into ce as Rhaegar considered the implications.


    Daemon''s lust for power was no secret, and seducing Rhaenyra might be a means to an end.


    But Syrio''s involvement raised questions--was he truly an ally, or a pawn in arger game?


    In the midst of this intrigue, Rhaegar considered his role.


    Should he y the naive child, reporting to his father and risking the king''s wrath, leading to Daemon''s arrest? Or should he take matters into his own hands and venture beyond the Red Keep to uncover the truth for his sister''s sake?


    Or could he feign ignorance and allow events to unfold and escte unchecked?


    As Rhaegar pondered, a grim realization dawned on him: regardless of his actions, if even a single soul caught wind of the scandal, it would inevitably spiral out of control and tarnish Rhaenyra''s reputation beyond repair.


    "Make it known to all! Someone is trying to exploit this situation for their own gain," he dered with newfound rity.


    In that moment, Rhaegar saw through the facade and recognized the machinations at y.


    Finding Rhaenyra was imperative, but discretion was key.


    They would tread carefully, lest they fall victim to the schemes unfolding around them.


    "There must be a way to divert everyone''s attention!"

 Chapter 43: The Wind Rises in King’s Landing

    Chapter 43: The Wind Rises in King��s Landing


    "Ser, do you have any trusted helpers?" Rhaegar asked, his mind racing with the idea of enlisting help.


    Erryk nodded, "My brother, Arryk. We share an unbreakable bond of trust."


    "Summon him. We need his help."


    "Your Grace, he currently serves as Prince Aegon''s guardian. If the queen were to discover..." Erryk trailed off, concern in his voice.


    "Then we must proceed carefully to avoid detection."


    With the urgency pressing upon him, Rhaegar had no time for dy.


    "Ser, apany me to Rhaenyra''s chambers and then seek out Arryk."


    "As youmand, Prince."


    Though unsure of Rhaegar''s intentions, Erryk chose to stand by him, lending his support without hesitation....


    Outside Rhaenyra''s quarters, Cole stood guard on night duty.


    When he saw Erryk approaching with Rhaegar in tow, Cole''s brow furrowed in confusion. "Your Grace, why are you here at thiste hour?"


    "I had a nightmare and wanted to speak to my sister," Rhaegar feigned distress.


    Cole hesitated for a moment. "The princess has just retired, I fear..."


    "Ser Cole, Rhaenyra is my sister. She will want to see me," Rhaegar interjected firmly, catching Cole off guard.


    "Open the door and allow me to enter," his tone was nowmanding, directed not at Cole but at Erryk beneath him.


    Erryk moved toply, prompting Cole''s feeble attempt to intervene, only to be brushed aside.


    Rhaegar''s reputation hung in the bnce; insistent on seeing Rhaenyra, Cole could not stop him.


    With a swift entrance, the door closed behind them before Cole could examine further.


    Erryk gentlyid Rhaegar on the empty soft bed while he took an empty package and a piece of parchment with a drawn map from the nearby table.


    Examining it closely, Rhaegar surveyed the scattered robes on the floor, confirming Rhaenyra''s covert departure.


    Passing the parchment to Erryk, Rhaegar instructed, "Execute the n as I have outlined it. When you find Rhaenyra, retreat through the secret passage indicated here."


    "Will there be significant consequences to following this n?" Erryk voiced his reservations after hearing Rhaegar''s strategy on the way.


    "Ser, my sister is heir to the Iron Throne. For her honor, small sacrifices need not be considered," Rhaegar asserted, his hand sped tightly over his heart. "Whatever the consequences, I alone will bear them."


    Erryk''s resolve hardened as he remembered past encounters with the White Hart. "I vow to ensure the princess''s safe return!"


    Under Rhaegar''s unwavering gaze, Erryk turned and left the room.


    Before closing the door, Erryk positioned himself to block Cole''s view and gave a pointed order, "Ensure that the prince''s nocturnal conversation with the princess remains undisturbed. Do your duty."


    As a newly appointed member of the Kingsguard, Cole held Erryk in high regard and nodded in recognition.


    With purposeful strides, Erryk left.


    ...


    Silk Street.


    Rhaenyra darted through the bustling crowd, relishing the rare moment of solitude amidst the hustle and bustle.


    asionally, she would identally knock over the wares of hapless vendors, herughter ringing out as if in y.


    Daemon kept a close watch, effortlessly thwarting any pursuers in her wake.


    Thump.


    Rhaenyra collided with a figure d in gold robes as she dashed into a dimly lit alley, paying little heed to her surroundings.


    The gold-robed man grabbed her small arm, his voice deep with usation. "What mischief drove you to flee in such haste?"


    Recognizing the man beneath the helm, Rhaenyra called out his name. "Ser Harwin!"


    "Princess?"


    Stunned by the sudden encounter, Harwin hesitantly nced toward the entrance to the alley.


    There, Daemon, having caught up with him, approached leisurely.


    Seeing her uncle, Rhaenyra pleaded with Harwin, "Please don''t."


    After a moment''s thought, Harwin surmised that it was the uncle and nephew who had embarked on a ndestine adventure.


    Releasing his grip on Rhaenyra''s hand, he feigned ignorance. "Take care, young one. You may not always be so lucky."


    With that, he resumed his patrol as if nothing had happened, brushing past Daemon as he went.


    Daemon merely smiled, indifferent to the minor inconvenience.


    Before his dismissal asmander of the City Watch, every man in the golden robes had been under hismand, loyal to a fault.


    "Now that your reckless escapade is over, do you find it pleasant?" Daemon fell in step beside Rhaenyra.


    "Who knows when I''ll have another taste of freedom," Rhaenyra sighed softly, the intoxication obviously having eased her tension.


    Uncle and niece talked as they walked.


    As they walked, Rhaenyra''s senses tingled with unease.


    The lively merchants and jugglers began to fade, reced by the unmistakable sounds of debauchery.


    Daemon led her to an unfamiliar stone building, the cacophony emanating from within growing louder.


    Crossing the threshold, the overwhelming scent of drunken revelry and disorder assaulted her nostrils.


    Inside, men were carousing, theirughter coarse and lewd, fueled by drink and merriment.


    Unclothed women moved about without inhibition, inviting touches and casting sultry nces, theirughter tinged with seduction.


    Stunned, Rhaenyra stood frozen, allowing Daemon to lead her further into the debauched atmosphere, her eyes darting around the scious scene in disbelief.


    Rhaenyra found herself in an unfamiliar and unsettling environment, surrounded by sights and sounds that shed with her upbringing and values.


    "What is this ce?" she asked, her voice tinged with caution as she surveyed her surroundings.


    Daemon''s answer was indifferent. "A ce where peoplee to get their needs met."


    Rhaenyra''s shock quickly turned to indignation. "Are you mad, how dare you bring me here?" she snapped.


    Rhaenyra''s face stiffened, her features betraying her difort as she watched the provocative scene unfold before her.


    She nced nervously at her uncle, unable to ignore the lustful gleam in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine.


    A sense of foreboding washed over Rhaenyra, causing her to subtly assess her surroundings and consider her options. With a quick nce towards the door, she entertained the idea of escaping, realizing that she still had a chance to escape the ufortable situation.


    ...


    Meanwhile, in a secluded corner of the brothel, two figures dressed in ck watched as Daemon led Rhaenyra inside.


    "Go ahead, I''ll handle things here," one of the ck cloaked figures said solemnly, his expression stern under his hood.


    "Remember, the bigger themotion, the better. We must protect the princess''s reputation with the utmost precision," the other figure, identical in appearance, asserted. It was none other than Erryk, who had quickly sprung into action.


    Arryk moved with agility, quickly scaling the walls of the brothel and igniting mes as he made his way through the kitchen, the horse corridor, and beyond. The brothers'' synchronization was wless, each performing his task with precision.


    Entering the brothel''s main hall, Erryk navigated silently, deftly avoiding the provocative advances of the girls lining the perimeter as he made his way to the darkened alcove within.


    Parting the gauzy curtains, Erryk caught sight of his target for the night.


    At that moment, Daemon cornered Rhaenyra, his posture menacing as he approached her.


    Rhaenyra pressed against him, terror etched into her face.


    Just in the nick of time, Erryk sprang into action, quickly intervening by grabbing Daemon''s shoulder and delivering a powerful left hook to his face.


    Daemon staggered, unable to retaliate, and copsed to the ground, dazed.


    The sudden turn of events jolted Rhaenyra into action, and she broke free of Daemon''s grasp.


    "Princess,e with me at once," Erryk urged, tossing Rhaenyra the discarded ck robe and leading her away without a word.


    As they fled, Erryk cast a disdainful nce at Daemon before delivering a final, contemptuous kick between his legs.


    With a resounding thud, Daemon let out a scream of pain and doubled over in agony.

 Chapter 44: The Spreading Fire

    Chapter 44: The Spreading Fire


    "Who are you?" Rhaenyra cried in shock, trying to pull away.


    Erryk grabbed her hand, quickly wrapped her in a ck cloak, and with a strong tug, led her through the back door.


    "Who do you think you are, and where are you taking me?" Rhaenyra struggled vehemently, shooting an angry re at Erryk even though she could not see his face.


    Unable to hide his identity any longer, Erryk revealed his face and exined, "You were seen leaving the Red Keep with Prince Daemon, and Prince Rhaegar sent me to bring you back."


    "Rhaegar sent you?" Rhaenyra sniffed, her demeanor softening slightly.


    "The situation is urgent and it is imperative that your identity remain unknown," Erryk warned, urging her to keep quiet.


    Rhaenyra nodded in agreement andplied, matching Erryk''s brisk pace.


    As they emerged from the back door, they encountered a beggar boy slumped against the wall, seemingly helpless.


    Erryk quickly intervened, grabbing the boy by the hair and mming him against the wall, knocking him unconscious.Blood sttered as the boy crumpled to the ground.


    "He''s just a little beggar boy?" Rhaenyra remarked tly.


    "It ismon knowledge that most beggars near brothels and casinos are merely bait," Erryk exined, turning back to Rhaenyra. "He''s not dead, just unconscious."


    Rhaenyra breathed a sigh of relief, her concern for the beggar boy dissipating.


    "There''s a fire! Put out the fire!"


    "Fire in the backyard! Someonee!"


    The distant cries echoed, barely audible, as Erryk and Rhaenyra hurried away from themotion, seeking refuge in a narrow alley.


    Meanwhile, Arryk threw a torch through a second-story window of the brothel, his actions shrouded in the darkness of night.


    Arson was his secret mission, though it conflicted with the honor expected of a knight. Yet he obeyed his brother''smand without hesitation and helped to bring Prince Rhaegar to safety.


    For him, serving the young king''s eldest son was a matter of duty and respect that far outweighed any loyalty to Prince Aegon, a mere pawn in the king''s political schemes.


    The winds of change were upon them...


    ...


    Erryk quickly led Rhaenyra away from the scene, dodging a group of gold-cloaked men who rushed to put out the fire.


    "Stay away from them," Erryk warned in a hushed tone, turning into another narrow alley.


    Looking up, he spotted a lone figure in golden robes approaching.


    "Who goes there, skulking about with ill intent?" a familiar voice challenged, causing Rhaenyra to strain her eyes to make out the speaker.


    Instinctively, Erryk held Rhaenyra back, warning sternly, "Step aside, this is none of your concern.


    Drawing his longsword, the brave knight Harwin sneered, "Quite the bold words, defying the authority of the City Watch."


    Erryk, recognizing Harwin, hesitated. Though familiar, revealing his identity would jeopardize the secrecy of the mission, forcing him to maintain his disguise.


    One hand hovering over his concealed sword, Erryk prepared for a possible confrontation.


    "Stop this, we arerades!" Despite Erryk''s efforts to block her, Rhaenyra stepped between the two men.


    As she spoke, Harwin''s aggression faltered, his suspicion evident. "Princess, what brings you here again?" he inquired cautiously.


    Removing her hood, Rhaenyra improvised, "There is no time to exin. I became separated from Daemon, but fortunately the royal guards apanying me were able to locate me."


    She strategically obfuscated the truth to avoid unnecessaryplications.


    Harwin watched Erryk closely and gave Rhaenyra a polite smile. "In that case, Your Highness should proceed. I must attend to the fire."


    "Thank you, Ser Harwin," Rhaenyra expressed her gratitude, gently urging the agitated Erryk to leave.


    As they walked away, Harwin watched them intently, his brow furrowed in suspicion as he pondered the situation and the distant fire.


    ...


    The fire on Silk Street spread quickly, prompting a swift response from the City Watch. Gold-robed officers from across the city rushed to the scene and joined forces to fight the mes.


    Through tireless efforts thatsted until midnight, the raging fire was finally brought under control. However, the brothel at the epicenter of the zey in ruins, reduced to charred rubble along with a dozen neighboring residences.


    Though densely popted, the area was evacuated in time to avoid casualties from the inferno.


    Meanwhile, Arryk had met up with his brother at the Red Fort. With a shared nce and knowing smile, their mission was aplished.


    Parting ways, the Erryk led Rhaenyra through the secret passage to her room, ensuring her safe return.


    Watching the fire from the floor-to-ceiling window of his chamber, Rhaegar recognized it as the work of the Erryk brothers, orchestrated at his behest.


    Rhaenyra had fallen into Daemon''s trap, and spies lurked in the shadows. Tracking her movements was futile, for wherever Rhaenyra went, she was watched, especially in the brothel.


    To erase any trace of Rhaenyra''s involvement, the all-consuming fire was used to obliterate any evidence. Even if her presence at the brothel were proven, it would be undetectable amid the rubble.


    Rhaegar had preemptively established an alibi for Rhaenyra, ensuring her innocence in the eyes of her father, Viserys, who would quickly silence any users without concrete evidence.


    Crunch!


    The entrance to the secret passage rotated, drawing Rhaegar''s attention.


    Erryk and Rhaenyra finally appeared before him.


    "Rhaenyra, you''re back," Rhaegar greeted with a relieved smile, a weight lifted from his chest.


    He had feared that Rhaenyra would sumb to the demon''s influence and decide not to return with Erryk.


    But it seemed she had not disappointed him.


    "Rhaegar, how did you know I was sneaking out?" Rhaenyra asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice as she shed her ck robes.


    Rhaegar nced at Erryk who had closed the secret passage.


    "There was no time to exin," Erryk muttered.


    Rhaegar nodded and turned to Erryk. "Did the n go well, Ser?"


    "It went fairly well, but we ran into Harwin Strong on patrol and the princess''s identity was revealed," Erryk confessed, a hint of regret in his tone.


    Rhaegar frowned, wondering if Harwin would reveal their secret and if he needed to take precautions. As the eldest son of the Hand of the King Lyonel and heir to Harrenhal, Harwin''s words could carry weight.


    But given Lyonel''s reputation and Harwin''s own status, Rhaegar doubted the need to silence him.


    Watching the cryptic exchange between the men, Rhaenyra interjected quietly, "Harwin is Lyonel''s son and respects me, so he shouldn''t betray our trust."


    "That would be ideal," Rhaegar agreed, acknowledging Lyonel''s reliability and assuming his son possessed simr qualities.


    Approaching Rhaegar, Rhaenyra''s eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Who told you? Was it you who set the fire?"


    Rhaenyra had pondered these questions during her return.


    Erryk''s timely arrival and the subsequent fire seemed too convenient to be mere coincidence.


    Now, facing Rhaenyra in her chamber, Rhaegar understood her suspicions.


    "I have ns for the informant, but I cannot reveal them yet," Rhaegar admitted, concealing Syrio''s true identity. It was unwise to rm him prematurely.


    Then, with a serious expression, he continued, "As for the fire, that was my doing. I did it to protect you."

 Chapter 45: Sibling Love

    Chapter 45:Sibling Love


    His words carried a subtle note of pride, echoing softly in the air.


    "Rhaegar, did you help conceal my movements during the fire?"


    Rhaenyra''s gaze dropped, a sheepish confession dawning as she realized the gravity of the situation.


    "Who else but I, your kinswoman, would bear the burden of your nightly troubles?" Rhaegar''s face grew stern, his voice demanding attention.


    "Silence now, who dared to betray my whereabouts?" Rhaenyra interjected, her hand muffling her brother''s voice as she sought out the informer.


    Rhaegar dodged her touch with a shake of his head, his gaze piercing. "No fortress is impregnable, sister. Have you acted foolishly only to cower at the prospect of discovery?"


    "I never anticipated this, I merely sought respite," she murmured, her words tinged with regret.


    The question stirred Rhaenyra''s tender emotions, leaving her lost in thought, her words barely audible.


    "Was Daemon... unkind to you?" Rhaegar asked, his concern evident."He didn''t seed. Ser Erryk intervened just in time," she replied, her hand soothing Rhaegar''s hair as she forced a smile.


    The evening''s events unfolded unexpectedly.


    Once she had admired and trusted Daemon.


    But learning the truth behind the matter left her with a lingering sense of unease and reflection.


    Rhaegar''s anger at Rhaenyra''s reckless plunge into another''s n simmered as he spoke with an air of indifference.


    "Without timely intervention, do you think the tale of you and Daemon patronizing a brothel would have spread far and wide by morning?"


    "I slipped away through a hidden passageway, unnoticed..." Rhaenyra''s fingers fidgeted, tension knotting her muscles.


    Rhaegar''s tone remained blunt. "If no one knew, then who informed me?"


    "Daemon, the secret watchers, those who tipped me off..." Rhaegar trailed off.


    "While you ponder, consider the three factions that are watching you tonight. There are no secrets in this matter," Rhaegar said inly, prompting her to remain silent.


    She wasn''t naive; she had simply put too much trust in Daemon.


    The sudden revtion of her uncle''s hidden agenda took her by surprise.


    Had Rhaegar not secretly intervened tonight, she shuddered to imagine the consequences. What twisted version of the rumor would be circting by dawn?


    "I apologize; I was under stress and sought sce in a walk," she confessed, her realization swift but heavy.


    "It better be. Daemon has long coveted the throne, and you''ve been served up like a plump morsel," Rhaegar retorted, his despondent gaze fixed on his sister.


    At the sight of her being manipted like a puppet, Rhaegar''s once proud demeanor crumbled, reced by a deep sense of humiliation.


    "What kind of look is that? I am still your sister," Rhaenyra retorted, her voice tinged with wounded pride.


    Bristling at the contempt reflected in her brother''s eyes, Rhaenyra felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment.


    Rhaegar watched her inner turmoil in silence, his head shaking in quiet resignation.


    A sneer slipped past his lips, reigniting Rhaenyra''s anger, herughter nowced with frustration.


    Rhaegar met her gaze with a sideways nce, a flicker of understanding passing between them.


    For an instant, memories of their past, of caring for each other, flooded their minds, tugged at their hearts.


    But the moment quickly shifted.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes welled with tears as she sank to the ground, wrapping Rhaegar in a gentle embrace, her voice thick with self-reproach. "I am deeply sorry for my foolishness. I need your guidance to deal with the aftermath."


    "Your value is paramount. You must learn to value yourself," Rhaegar sighed, his words heavy with concern.


    "I''m sorry... truly sorry," Rhaenyra sobbed softly.


    "I cannot alwayse to your aid in time," Rhaegarmented.


    Pressing her tear-stained cheek against the softness of her brother''s hair, Rhaenyra whispered hoarsely, "Sister, do not fail father again.


    Rhaegar choked back his emotions, his arms wrapped around his sister''s trembling form, a vow slipping from his lips. "I will stand by you to the end."


    As Rhaegar''s gentle touch caressed her back, his words pierced her heart.


    Reflecting on the night''s indulgence, Uncle Daemon''s deception, and now thefort of her brother''s embrace, Rhaenyra''s emotions churned and tears flowed.


    Burying her face in the curve of Rhaegar''s shoulder, she wept softly, her grief soaking his cor.


    With a helpless smile, Rhaegar nced at Erryk, who bowed silently and withdrew, discreetly closing the entrance to the secret passageway behind him.


    To stay any longer would be rude.


    Leaving through the main door was risky with Cole still on guard.


    The secret passageway offered a cautious escape.


    The tears continued to flow until Rhaenyra''s sobs subsided, leaving her drained of strength and Rhaegar''s cor wet with her grief.


    Rhaenyra rubbed her nose against her brother''s cor, her red and swollen eyes showing the effects of her tears.


    Rhaegar''s expression was one of desperation. "I think it would be wise for both of us to change into clean clothes."


    "Huh?" Rhaenyra''s confusion was evident as she nced at Rhaegar''s blouse, stained with tears and snot.


    Looking at her own rough, patched linen dress, she realized her state of disarray.


    "Turn around while I change," she instructed, quickly maneuvering Rhaegar onto his back.


    Moving to his blind spot, she shed her linen dress, exchanging it for a nightgown she had retrieved from the closet.


    After tossing another nightgown to Rhaegar, she urged, "Wear this for now, as I don''t have any pajamas for you."


    Pulling off the pink nightgown that covered his head, Rhaegar''s expression darkened and he rejected the offer outright. "With my back injury, I prefer to sleep without clothes."


    "No, you''re staying with me tonight and you''re wearing clothes," Rhaenyra insisted, reaching out to begin the exchange.


    Rhaegar resisted vehemently. "No, I''d rather sleep alone without them."


    The banter continued until the candles flickered out, plunging the room into darkness.


    Rhaenyra wrapped Rhaegar, who wore nothing but tiny pants, in her arms and closed her eyes with measured breaths.


    Rhaegar, forced into the role of a reluctant embrace, shifted and squirmed until he found afortable position to rest his face against.


    In the silence of the room, neither sibling spoke, awaiting the embrace of sleep.


    ...


    The next day dawned.


    In the early hours, a scout rushed into the Red Keep to deliver a message to the Hand of the King.


    Lyonel''s expression turned grim as he quickly sought out Viserys, who was in the midst of breakfast.


    With a heavy face, Lyonel ryed the news from the night before.


    "A scout reported that Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon were seen wandering Silk Streetst night, eventually visiting a brothel."


    "Curiously, the same brothelter went up in mes, and while Daemon managed to escape, the princess was nowhere to be found."


    Viserys'' features hardened, his emotions unfathomable.


    He was well aware of his brother''s nature - ruthless, capable of anything.


    He shook his head, forcing a strained smile. "This is a lie; we are being deceived."


    "I fervently hope so, Your Grace," Lyonel replied, the gravity of the situation weighing on his demeanor.


    Viserys sensed the gravity of the matter at once.


    Unlike Otto Hightower, Lyonel would not implicate Rhaenyra, the Heir Apparent, for the sake of his own grandson. His every action was marked by impartiality and integrity.


    "Demon! A ravenous wolf!" Viserys mmed his fist down on the table, a wave of rage coursing through him.


    The mere thought of Daemon''s involvement with his daughter ignited a primal rage within him, urging him to seek immediate retribution.


    Still, a semnce of rationality prevailed, and he spoke skeptically, "It cannot be true. Rhaenyra probably slipped away while Daemon was busy in the brothel."


    He refused to entertain the idea that his daughter would engage in such debauchery, let alone with Daemon.


    "That''s what worries me. The circumstances surrounding the fire are suspicious, with rumors suggesting it was intentionally set," Lyonel remarked thoughtfully.


    "Daemon''s departure from the brothel coinciding with the start of the fire, coupled with reports of his apparent injuries, raises further questions," he continued, his tone grave.


    "In contrast, the princess''s disappearance without a trace leaves us with no evidence of her presence at the brothel," Lyonel concluded.


    Viserys seized on that glimmer of hope, his smile masking a simmering anger. "Since no one can attest to Rhaenyra''s presence, we have no proof of her involvement. It seems we have cause for relief."


    Beneath his facade ofposure, a deep-seated rage simmered.


    "Summon Rhaenyra; tell her her father invites her to breakfast," Viserys ordered the servant at the door, his intent clear - to gauge his daughter''s reaction.


    At this point, regardless of the truth, Rhaenyra''s innocence remained paramount. As a father, he had to affirm that unequivocally.


    With that established, he would determine the course of action in this delicate matter.


    "No need, that''s exactly what I want," a voice said from the doorway, and Rhaenyra entered gracefully, her demeanor unppable, her smile as bright as a blossoming flower.


    Viserys was taken aback. "Rhaenyra, what brings you here?"


    "Did you not invite me to breakfast, Father? Strange question indeed," Rhaenyra replied, gracefully taking a seat on a round stool, betraying no hint of vulnerability despite her recent actions.


    Viserys and Lyonel exchanged nces, both sensing an undercurrent of unease in the air.

 Chapter 46: Ultimatum

    Chapter 46: Ultimatum


    "Rhaenyra, it has been alleged that you snuck out of the Red Keep with your Uncle Daemonst night and visited an inappropriate establishment. Do you have any exnation for that?" Viserys inquired cautiously, a sense of unease gnawing at him.


    Rhaenyra tapped her chin thoughtfully and offered a contrite apology. "I did leave the Red Keep with Daemonst night, but we only ventured to Silk Street to see a y."


    "Is that all?" Viserys pressed, looking for any hint of deception.


    "Absolutely," Rhaenyra assured him confidently.


    Satisfied with her answer, Viserys'' mood lifted and he turned the conversation to Lyonel, the Hand of the King.


    Rhaenyra nced sideways at Lyonel, awaiting his question. "What is it, my lord?"


    With measured words, Lyonel broached the delicate subject. "Princess, there have been reports of you and Prince Daemon entering a brothelst night..."


    "However, in the absence of hard evidence, I would like to hear your ount," he added, his tone neutral.


    Rhaenyra''s denial was quick and firm. "Since there is no evidence, it is undoubtedly false. Someone is attempting to besmirch my reputation, an act tantamount to treason."Acknowledging her position, Lyonel nodded solemnly. "I will investigate the source of these rumors and see that justice is done for the princess."


    At this point, the truth mattered little. Even if there was evidence that Rhaenyra and Daemon had left the Red Keep, all other usations had been consumed by the fire.


    As long as Rhaenyra maintained her innocence regarding the brothel visit, her virtue remained unassable.


    With a final nod to Viserys, Lyonel left, determined to put the unfounded rumors to rest.


    The father-daughter duo exchanged incredulous nces and Viserys, unable to contain his excitement, spoke first.


    "Rhaenyra, were you aware of the massive fire that engulfed Silk Streetst night?" he asked, his toneced with urgency.


    "Thanks to the fire, I was able to avoid the lurking shadows," Rhaenyra replied calmly.


    "You knew?" Viserys'' astonishment was palpable.


    "Rhaegar informed me. He received a tip-off and orchestrated the fire to get me to safety," Rhaenyra confessed truthfully.


    Viserys was stunned by his son''s cunning, his disbelief giving way to pride. After a moment, he smiled proudly. "Rhaegar is indeed a remarkable young man and a loyal brother."


    "No doubt," Rhaenyra agreed, her smile reflecting her father''s relief.


    She had arrived early in the morning to ept Rhaegar''s offer, knowing that the best defense against conspiracy was preemption. Confident in her innocence, she knew that no one could tarnish her reputation by standing firm.


    Observing his daughter''s delighted expression, Viserys shifted the conversation. "What do you think about it?"


    "About what?" Rhaenyra asked, caught off guard for a moment.


    "On considering Rhaegar''s help in the future, as he didst night," Viserys rified.


    "Rhaegar is still quite young," Rhaenyra hesitated, unsure how to respond.


    "That is of no consequence. He''ll grow into a fine young man in time," Viserys insisted.


    "But I only see him as... I haven''t considered..." Rhaenyra trailed off, her mind still reeling fromst night''s events.


    Viserys frowned, his tone grave. "Then who do you have in mind? Surely not some shameless scoundrel?"


    "No, of course not," Rhaenyra denied hastily. "I confess that I once harbored a fleeting infatuation with Daemon because of his bold demeanor, butst night''s revtion exposed his true nature."


    "You have rejected all the suitors I have proposed, and now you reject Rhaegar. What do you expect your father to do about your marriage?" Viserys'' disappointment was palpable.


    The memory of Daemon''s nefarious intentions almost seeding sent a shiver down his spine and filled him with a sense of urgency.


    With a heavy heart, Viserys issued an ultimatum:


    "Lyonel has suggested Ser Laenor, son of the sea serpent Corlys, as a possible match for you, and I agree that he would be a suitable candidate."


    "Marriage to him would heal the rift between House Targaryen and House Vryon and solidify your power in the future," Viserys exined, his voice carrying the weight of authority.


    After a pause, Viserys fixed his daughter with amanding gaze, his demeanor regal. "Rhaegar? Laenor? You must choose between them!"


    "Can I have some time to think?" Rhaenyra pleaded, her voice trembling slightly in the face of her father''s determination.


    When Viserys was determined, there was little room for negotiation. But his love and guilt for his daughter softened his resolve and he agreed to give her some time.


    But he stressed the urgency of the situation. "The rumors will not disappear overnight. In the meantime, I will move our family temporarily to Dragonstone Ind."


    "On Dragonstone there are young dragons ready for taming, and both Rhaegar and Aegon have one each," Viserys continued, outlining his n.


    "After they have tamed their dragons, I will travel to the Driftmark. It may be to propose to Laenor on your behalf, or to extend an invitation to the Sea Serpent for your betrothal to Rhaegar."


    "Regardless, you must give me an exnation!" Viserys concluded, his words leaving no room for argument as he gestured for Rhaenyra to leave.


    Feeling suffocated by the weight of her father''s expectations, Rhaenyra bit her lip tightly and hurried to leave the oppressive confines of the room.


    Her mind raced as she searched for an escape, desperate to find sce outside the suffocating walls.


    After Rhaenyra left, a slender figure emerged from the shadows of the room and wrapped her arms around Viserys from behind.


    "You heard everything?" Viserys asked, sensing her presence.


    "I had nowhere else to go," Alicent replied quietly.


    "Rhaenyra''s union with Rhaegar is long overdue. Their marriage would strengthen the stability of the throne," Viserys remarked, his tone tinged with resignation.


    "But Rhaenyra still clings to her romantic notions," Alicent observed.


    "The heir to the Iron Throne cannot afford to be a naive maiden," Viserys acknowledged, stopping Alicent''s attempt at further persuasion and instead kissing her cheek gently.


    Dressed under Alicent''s watchful eye, Viserys gripped the hilt of the ckfyre Sword with determination.


    "Well, I must tend to my dear brother," Viserys dered before leaving.


    At the end of the day, Alicent, dressed in a light gauze dress, remained alone in the room.


    She took small, incoherent bites of the bread left on the table and gazed out the window with a distant expression in her eyes.


    ...


    As the morning light filtered through the cloth curtain, it cast delicate shadows on Daemon''s face, disturbed by a lingering hangover from the night before. He groaned at his thirst and felt the room spin.


    A vision in white, Mysaria entered and pulled back the light-blocking curtains, flooding the room with blinding sunlight and jolting Daemon awake. Cursing under his breath, he shielded his eyes from the re.


    Crouching beside him, Mysaria offered a bowl of water, which Daemon gulped down greedily as if it were a life-saving elixir. His voice gravelly, he asked, "Any news?"


    "Unfortunately, my informant was seriously injured, and it appears thatst night''s fire was a deliberate act," Mysaria replied in her rough, exotic ent, her expression tinged with grief for her informant.


    Daemon rubbed his face wearily, a hint of anger in his tone. "It seems my brother never trusted me enough to neglect watching my every move."


    "Would you dare seduce your own niece without someone intervening?" Mysaria''s voice remained t, devoid of emotion.


    "I cannot say for certain. Power has always been a seductive poison," Daemon admitted, stretching his limbs before pulling Mysaria close, his affectionate gesture contrasting with the seriousness of the situation.


    "At a time like this, you''re still in the mood?" Mysaria asked, her tone neutral.


    "Not particrly. I got a good thrashingst night. Let''s see if it still works," Daemon replied, his confidence unshakable as he released Mysaria and began to dress.


    Expressionless, Mysaria reminded him, "Don''t forget to settle the bill before you leave."

 Chapter 47: Alicent’s Coaxing

    Chapter 47: Alicent��s Coaxing


    Frustrated after being cornered by her father, Rhaenyra returned to her room to find it empty without Rhaegar''s presence. The loneliness of the room only deepened the pain in her heart.


    She thought about her father''s incessant pressure to marry. Did he think she could not inherit the Iron Throne without a husband? Would the world turn against her if she remained unmarried?


    A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Rhaenyra turned to see Cole, dressed in silver armor and white robes, entering the room.


    "Cole, is everything all right?" Rhaenyra asked, hastily wiping away any traces of tears and feigning nonchnce.


    With concern etched into his face, Cole replied quietly, "Princess, the queen wishes to speak with you in the back garden."


    "Alicent?" Rhaenyra''s skepticism remained, finding the timing too coincidental.


    Straightening her clothes, Rhaenyra nodded. "Understood, I will leave immediately."


    ...


    In the secluded back garden, Rhaenyra arrived alone and found Alicent already waiting under the canopy of fishwood.When they met, Alicent''s face was etched with concern. "What happenedst night?"


    Rhaenyra''s brow furrowed in suspicion. "What do you mean?"


    Alicent continued, her concern palpable. "Disturbing rumors have been circting about you. Have you been with your uncle?"


    Rhaenyra''s senses sharpened at the mention of her uncle, and she was instantly on guard.


    With a gentle smile, Rhaenyra replied, "Daemon and I haven''t crossed paths in years. He simply apanied me to the city."


    "I am your sister. You must confide in me so that I can help you, Rhaenyra," Alicent urged, her tone pleading as she reached out to take Rhaenyra''s hand.


    "What exactly am I used of?" Rhaenyra countered rhetorically. "Drinking wine? Sneaking out of the castle in the middle of the night?"


    "ording to the allegations, you were seen in a brothel with Daemon." Alicent continued, her expression feigning concern and embarrassment as she spoke.


    "That is an outrageous usation!" How could Rhaenyra admit it, she replied verbally.


    Alicent, however, did not believe it, "Is that so? You Targaryens have strange customs."


    "Daemon obviously doesn''t know any better; he''s a conniving man with ambitions that know no bounds."


    "Shut up, Alicent!" The words came out, and Rhaenyra sternly stopped her from continuing. If she had actually done something wrong, she would not have dared to scold her so loudly. But she was too innocent to let Alicent take her word for it.


    Shaking off Alicent''s hand, Rhaenyra said, "Questioning my innocence is a treasonous offense, who told you that?"


    Alicent was taken aback by her sudden outburst, his eyes darting, "I...... was in your father''s bedroom this morning."


    "Very well, youe to question me about something that both my father and the Hand of the King have already jumped to conclusions about!"


    Rhaenyra''s voice was clear and cold as she caught her words, her gaze piercing. "Alicent, Your Majesty the Queen. We used to be sisters, sharing everything, but you''ve changed so much, I hardly recognize you anymore."


    Alicent seemed flustered and tried to backtrack, "It''s not what you think. I overheard it and I was worried about you..."


    "So you''re using me and tarnishing my reputation with unfounded usations?" Rhaenyra''s tone became more heated, her frustration obvious.


    At a loss for words, Alicent tried to defend herself, "I was only trying to help you, Rhaenyra."


    Rhaenyra''s smile was tinged with sarcasm, "We went to the tavern for a drink, and when it gotte, I wanted to go home. But Daemon wasn''t finished and insisted on visiting a brothel."


    "We parted on the street and went in different directions."


    "I returned to the Red Keep just as a fire broke out in the city, unaware of Daemon''s whereabouts."


    "I spent the night tending to Rhaegar."


    Rhaenyra had meticulously prepared these statements to deflect Alicent''s probing questions with unwavering certainty.


    Without giving Alicent a chance to respond, she walked away alone, her expression cold.


    She saw through Alicent''s intentions, realizing that she was trying to discredit her by implying a connection to Daemon.


    But Alicent had miscalcted.


    ...


    The disheveled Daemon staggered back to the Red Keep, his steps unsteady, indicating that he hadn''t yet sobered up.


    As he made his way, Harrold, the captain of the Kingsguard, and two of his men rushed to intercept him.


    Without a word, the two guards nking Daemon grabbed his arms and promptly arrested him.


    Harrold regarded Daemon with indifference, his voice devoid of emotion as he spoke, "The King wishes to speak with you, Prince."


    Ignoring Daemon''s protests, the guards lifted him up and began to escort him to the Hall of the Iron Throne.


    "Release me, you filthy mongrels!" Daemon struggled against his bonds, his difort evident as he writhed and spat.


    But his pleas fell on deaf ears as he was swiftly transported to the Hall, where he was unceremoniously thrown to the cold, ck stone floor.


    Daemon showed no sign of concern, simply lying face down, the smell of alcohol clinging to him.


    Harrold motioned for two guards to stand guard at the door before a stern Viserys emerged from the shadows.


    The king, struggling to contain his anger, approached Daemon in a cold voice and demanded, "What have you done with my daughter?"


    Despite his belief in Rhaenyra''s words, Viserys couldn''t resist the urge to seek confirmation once more.


    Daemon, in a confused state, let out a hup and remained silent.


    Viserys'' expression changed slightly as he pressed, "Have you nothing to say in your defense?"


    "I cannot defend myself if I do not know the charges against me," Daemon replied, showing signs of sobriety.


    Viserys, ovee with rage, delivered a powerful kick to Daemon''s stomach.


    His voice dripping with rage, he charged, "You kidnapped her from the safety of our home to defile her!"


    Daemon recoiled from the blow, but remained defiant. "What does it matter? We roamed the brothels of Silk Street when we were Rhaenyra''s age."


    Viserys, his anger undiminished, retorted, "We were young men then. She was a child, your own niece!"


    "Rhaenyra is a grown woman now, the first to ever show me any kindness," Daemon continued callously.


    Enraged beyond measure, Viserys lunged at Daemon, grabbing his cor and delivering two powerful blows to his face.


    Blood spurted from Daemon''s mouth, a tooth knocked loose by the impact.


    Viserys, still gripping his cor, seethed, "You will ruin her. After what you''ve done, what lord will want to marry her?"


    "Who cares about these useless lords? You''re the king, your word isw," Daemon shot back, the pain stirring a glimmer of sincerity in his words.


    Viserys was taken aback. "I have defended you all my life, but your heart is darker than I ever imagined."


    With contempt evident in his expression, Daemon sneered in response.


    The two brothers locked eyes in the silent hall.


    Suddenly, Viserys burst intoughter and taunted, "You didn''t get it, did you? My son has foiled your ns."


    "What?"


    Daemon''s confusion was palpable.


    Viserys loosened his grip on Daemon''s cor and stood tall as he continued, "Rhaegar, my eldest, he outshines you in every way."


    "Not only did he see through your cunning schemes, but he values family and loyalty more than you ever could."


    Daemon paled, his expression wavering. "Rhaegar sent the mysterious figurest night and he started the fire?"


    "Indeed. Quite the clever boy, isn''t he?"


    Viserys'' smugness was evident as he mocked his brother.


    Daemon shook his head, his smile fading. "For a boy his age to be so astute, perhaps it''s time to reconsider Rhaenyra''s inheritance and name your eldest son as the rightful heir."

 Chapter 48: Banishing Daemon

    Chapter 48: Banishing Daemon


    "There is no need to interfere with my children. I have ns for them," Viserys warned, pointing a finger at Daemon.


    Daemon took a deep breath. "Marry Rhaenyra to me. I''ll im her when she takes the crown, no matter what others say!"


    "I will cherish her as if my life depended on it and marry her ording to the traditions of our family."


    Viserysughed bitterly. "You already have a wife."


    "Yet Aegon the Conqueror had several wives," Daemon argued.


    With a quick movement, Viserys drew his dragon''s horn dagger and pressed it against Daemon''s throat. "You are no conqueror. You''re a curse sent to torment me."


    Unfazed, Daemon met his gaze. "Marry Rhaenyra to me and we''ll restore the dragons to their former glory."


    "But you don''t want my daughter, do you?" Viserys used.


    "It''s my throne!"Viserys, disgusted by his brother''s ambition, replied, "I would rather betroth Rhaenyra to Rhaegar, or even both my daughters to him, than allow you to defile them in your quest for power."


    Taking up his dagger, Viserys sighed. "Return to the Vale, Daemon. Reconcile with your rightful wife and salvage what honor remains."


    "Or abandon tradition altogether. I don''t care."


    "Just never show your face to me again."


    With that, Viserys wiped his dagger clean and walked away, leaving Daemon alone with his shattered ambitions, staring nkly at the ceiling as he muttered, "Not yet, brother. Not yet."


    ...


    Dusk settled outside as Viserys stood alone at his bedroom window, his gaze fixed on the distant coastline.


    Like many of his bloodline, Viserys had a fondness for heights, often finding sce in the elevated vantage points from which he could survey his realm.


    Alicent approached him with gentle steps and ced a hand on his shoulder. "Daemon is no longer here," she murmured.


    "Good riddance. I have no desire to see him again," Viserys replied, his tone tinged with bitterness at the mention of his brother.


    "I spoke to Rhaenyra, and she denies any involvement with Daemon," Alicent informed him.


    "Of course. Rhaenyra has her brother to protect her from Daemon''s nefarious intentions," Viserys noted with a hint of relief.


    "Yes, I only wish my children had such a bond," Alicent confessed, her gaze drifting as she unconsciously fidgeted with her fingernails.


    Viserys, oblivious to her distraction, continued, "The blood of the Targaryens runs deep, filled with turmoil and unpredictability. Only those wise enough can navigate itsplexities."


    "Our children must be wise and united," Alicent agreed with a faint smile.


    "I am considering betrothing Rhaenyra to Rhaegar," Viserys suddenly dered, turning the conversation to a more pressing matter.


    Alicent''s eyes flickered as she drew the curtains. "A wise decision. Rhaenyra is outspoken by nature and Rhaegar will surely grow into a man she admires."


    "Do you think Rhaenyra doesn''t already like Rhaegar?" Viserys probed, his keen intuition sensing Alicent''s underlying thoughts.


    Alicent hesitated for a moment before answering, "I know Rhaenyra well enough to discern her preferences in men."


    "Yes, you do know her. She has always had a penchant for defying her father, unyielding in her convictions," Viserys mused, a hint of bitterness in his smile.


    "We must try tomunicate with her. After all, whoever Rhaenyra chooses will be a suitable match," Alicent replied, her voice tinged with hope.


    "I pray she remembers the weight of her responsibility," Viserys murmured, leading his wife to the table where he poured them both sses of wine.


    As they shared a drink in the dying light of the evening, Alicenty on her bed, her expression unreadable, pondering the implications of her conversation with Rhaenyra.


    ...


    Half a monthter, at the Lion''s Gate, shipping officials shouted orders, directing sailors to load crates onto the waiting galleon.


    Viserys stood nearby, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the ship flying the three-headed red dragon g on a ck background, anchored in the sea.


    "Your Grace, the supplies are ready for departure," Lyonel approached, carrying a final list.


    "Understood," Viserys replied with a nod.


    Behind him, Alicent led Aegon and Helena, each holding a small baby.


    Meanwhile, Rhaenyra and Rhaegar lingered at a nearby fruit stand, selecting fresh produce with smiles on their faces.


    Nearly twenty days had passed since Rhaegar''s burns had healed, a miraculous recovery that Viserys attributed to the blessings of the Seven Gods.


    "Come over here! Our journey is about to begin!" Viserys called, and Rhaegar was the first to eagerly respond.


    Their destination: Dragonstone Ind, where two young dragons awaited their presence.


    The anticipation of having dragons of his own consumed Rhaegar''s thoughts day and night, fueling his excitement.


    Viserys lovingly ruffled his son''s hair and remarked with a smile, "The ship is full of fruit, much finer than what the roadside vendors sell.


    "I''m curious to see how the fruits aboardpare to those in the Red Keep."


    Rhaegar hesitated, then replied, "I have noticed that the fruits within the Red Keep are more expensive. It seems the roadside fruits are ofparable quality but sold at a lower price."


    Viserys'' smile faltered momentarily, taken aback by his son''s astute observation.


    Lyonel cut in smoothly, "The fruits within the Red Keepe from different regions, offering a variety not found in the local fruits."


    "Though the tastes may be simr, the difference in price reflects the different clientele they cater to."


    Rhaegar murmured quietly, his insight surprising Lyonel.


    The prince was indeed exceptionally perceptive, perhaps too much so at times.


    In the midst of the conversation, Alicent and Rhaenyra arrived hand in hand, their previous coldness thawing with each step.


    Their rtionship had been strained since their argument, but Alicent''s invitation to a tea party had begun to mend the rift between them.


    Any further standoff would have displeased Viserys, the patriarch of the family, so they both took a step forward, easing the tension.


    ...


    Into the night.


    Sailboats adorned with intricate dragon carvings glided through the waters of ckwater Bay on the gentle sea breeze.


    Inside thevishly decorated cabin, Viserys appeared pale and struggled to keep hisposure as he clung to a barrel, ovee by seasickness.


    Alicent and Rhaegar stood by his side, their expressions filled with concern.


    It was ironic that Viserys, who had once tamed thergest and most fearsome dragon in Westeros, Balerion the ck Dread, should now sumb to seasickness.


    But despite his difort, Viserys was determined to witness his son''s attempt to tame a dragon and mend rtions with the Vryon family.


    Under other circumstances, he would have chosen the excitement of Imperial hunts and jousting tournaments over the rocking of the waves.


    "Father, the Grand Maester sent a special medicine before he left. It may help ease your difort," Rhaegar said, holding out a ss vial with concern in his voice.


    Viserys examined the vial, then nodded, unscrewed the cap and carefully took the pill. He swallowed it with a sip of water, hoping for relief.


    "I''ve been taking a lot of pillstely. Let''s hope this one does the trick," Viserys remarked, his tone tinged with fatigue.


    Rhaegar offered another vial from his pocket and suggested, "I also have pills to help you sleep. Would you like to try them?"


    Having been bedridden for some time, Rhaegar had been in regr contact with Grand Maester Mellos. Upon learning of Rhaegar''s frequent nightmares, the Maester had concocted a sedative. After confirming its safety, Rhaegar had brought it with him.

 Chapter 49: Green Eyes

    Chapter 49: Green Eyes


    Viserys reluctantly swallowed his sleeping pills at his family''s insistent urging, then settled into bed to endure the difort.


    As his breathing gradually calmed, Alicent gave the siblings a warm smile.


    In a hushed tone, she advised, "It is gettingte, my dears. You should both retire to your chambers and rest."


    "Thank you, Her Majesty the Queen," Rhaenyra replied with a smile before she and Rhaegar left the cabin.


    Walking down the corridor, the siblings engaged in casual conversation for a few minutes before parting ways and returning to their respective cabins.


    ...


    In the soft glow of the candlelight, Rhaegar stripped and gazed at his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror.


    The remnants of old skin had faded, leaving a delicate white surface where his burns once marred his skin, faintly revealing the extent of the pre-burn area.


    "The recovery is remarkable, worthy of blood and fire," Rhaegar muttered to himself as he essed the system panel.[Rhaegar Targaryen]


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold), Longevity (Green)


    Bloodline: Old Valyrian Dragonlord (14%)


    Skills: Proficiency in the Old Valyriannguage


    Relic: Blood and Fire (Fire Resistance +50%)


    Evaluation: "The bloodline has undergone further purification, suggesting the discovery of an extraordinary secret."


    Rhaegar''s gaze lingered on the Bloodline bar, noticing an increase from the original 12% purity to 14%. This was the change his wound had observed since he had shed his skin.


    The two point increase in Bloodline purity could only be attributed to exposure to Dragon me.


    Before Dreamfyre''s attack, Rhaegar had encountered only a handful of dragons.


    In reviewing the ancient tomes of House Berys, he found little mention of humans forming bonds with dragons.


    "A dragon is not to be considered a mere tool, but a partner to its rider," the texts said. "The deeper the bond, the greater the power that can be unleashed."


    Though mere conjecture from ages past, Rhaegar was swayed by these theories.


    He reasoned that increased interaction with dragons could only bring positive results.


    "With the sailing ship due at Dragonstone Ind tomorrow, I will soon have the opportunity to im a dragon as my own," he mused.


    As fatigue set in, Rhaegar undressed and copsed onto his bed, pulling the covers over him in preparation for the dragon-taming expedition ahead.


    Soon sleep enveloped him, taking him to the realm of dreams.


    The scene unfolded once more: the dusky sky, the tumultuous waves, the crackling thunderstorm.


    This time Rhaegar stayed awake.


    The icy rainwaterpped at his skin, each drop cascading down his body.


    Above him, dark clouds swirled menacingly and the wind howled with fury.


    "Roar!"


    The angry roar of a distant dragon pierced the storm, apanied by thunder that echoed through the sky and earth.


    Rhaegar raised his head, ignoring the rain that pelted his face, and fixed his gaze on the turbulent sky above.


    As thunder rumbled overhead, a colossal figure emerged from the dark clouds, silhouetted against the flickering lightning.


    Having endured two harrowing nightmares, Rhaegar clenched his fists and fixed his gaze fiercely on the approaching shadow.


    His resolute determination seemed to draw the shadow closer, its trajectory shifting to head straight for him.


    Rhaegar raised his head defiantly, meeting the shadow''s advance with unwavering resolve.


    Swift as an arrow, the shadow came closer, until...


    "Roar!"


    With a resounding roar, the shadow lunged at him, revealing razor-sharp ws that gleamed like polished obsidian.


    Deafened by the force of the impact, Rhaegar felt his consciousness slip from the dream realm.


    In those fleeting moments, he saw a sight forever etched in his memory.


    A pair of eyes.


    Dark green, brimming with malice, cunning, and pride.


    Deep as the abyss, those eyes locked on Rhaegar with a chilling intensity.


    "Ahh!!!"


    Startled awake, Rhaegar found himself muttering breathlessly, "Eyes... green eyes..."


    The image of that shadow lingered in his mind - a colossal dragon.


    Pitch ck, with emerald green eyes!


    A shiver ran down Rhaegar''s spine as he relived the scene from his dream.


    Was it fear, or perhaps something else that coursed through him?


    His chest heaved, he gasped for air, a bead of sweat coating his brow.


    It took several moments for him to regain hisposure, the tremors slowly subsiding.


    "Hand it over!"


    "Now, quickly!"


    Lost in thought, Rhaegar leaned back against the bed, his mind clouded by the distant soundsing from the hallway outside his cabin.


    "Who''s there?"


    With a furrowed brow, Rhaegar rose from the bed and began to dress, his curiosity piqued by themotion outside.


    Pushing open the hatch, he found the corridor deserted.


    "Idiot, can''t you understand a simplemand..."


    The familiar voice echoed once more, sparking Rhaegar''s intrigue as it stirred a memory deep within him.


    "To the left, in the corner."


    Rhaegar followed the direction, his steps measured and deliberate.


    When he reached the corner, he discovered the source of the disturbance - a pair of young children.


    The older child, a robust boy about Rhaegar''s age, stood beside his younger sister, who huddled in the corner with her hands sped over her head.


    They were Aegon and Hena, his half-siblings, engaged in a sibling quarrel.


    Aegon''s scolding grew louder as he tugged at Hena''s silver curls, a ssic disy of an older sibling bullying his sister.


    Rhaegar considered intervening, but hesitated, realizing that this was a family matter between Aegon and Hena.


    Though not his blood kin, their bond as siblings was undeniable, and it was not his ce to interfere with their dynamic.


    With a silent step back, Rhaegar chose to observe from a distance, respecting the boundaries of their sibling rtionship.


    As Rhaegar turned to leave, his intention to discuss Aegon''s upbringing with Alicent faltered when he heard Aegon''s threatening tone.


    "Remove it or I''ll snap your fingers."


    Rhaegar''s steps paused, torn between intervening and letting Alicent handle the situation.


    Then Hena''s screams pierced the air, drawing Rhaegar''s attention back.


    ncing back, he saw Aegon straddling Hena, grabbing her arm and tormenting her by squeezing her fingers.


    "If you refuse, I''ll make you regret it every night."


    Hena shook her head defiantly, tears glistening in her eyes.


    Rhaegar noticed that Hena was wearing the bracelet he had given her.


    With a subtle shift in his gaze, Rhaegar''s expression darkened as he approached the scene.


    Without a word, he silently stepped forward, causing Aegon to release his grip on Hena''s fingers, tugging at her bracelet instead.


    "Do you want it?"


    Rhaegar''s voice echoed from behind him, startling Aegon as he turned to find Rhaegar standing ominously nearby.


    Though unnerved by his sickly brother''s presence, Aegon tried to maintain a facade of bravado.


    "It''s none of your business!" he retorted indignantly, though his bravado wavered under Rhaegar''s unflinching gaze.


    Watching Aegon''s growing agitation, Rhaegar remained calm, his eyes betraying no emotion.


    As Aegon''s eyes darted between Rhaegar''s bracelet and Hena''s, a realization dawned on him.


    Frustrated, he eximed, "Howe you two have matching bracelets and I''m left with nothing!"


    At the sound of his outburst, Hena lifted her tear-streaked face, noticing Rhaegar''s presence for the first time.

 Chapter 50: Aegon’s Wailing

    Chapter 50: Aegon��s Wailing


    "Brother..."


    Hena''s face lit up when she saw Rhaegar, her voice tinged with misery as she called out.


    Rhaegar nced at her, his tone neither happy nor angry as he asked, "Being bullied again?"


    "Aegon wants my bracelet..."


    Tears streamed down Hena''s cheeks as she recounted her ordeal, her young voice trembling with anguish.


    "I see."


    Rhaegar nodded, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his own bracelet.


    Undeterred, Aegon pped Hena on the head and admonished, "I''m your brother, not him. Stop calling him brother."


    Hena flinched at the blow, but her gaze remained defiant as she bit her lip, refusing to cower before Aegon.Undeterred, Aegon continued, "Stop staring at me. I''ll teach you a lessonter."


    Turning to Rhaegar, he reached for his bracelet and suggested, "Give me your bracelet. Then Hena and I can each have one, and I won''t take hers anymore."


    Watching Aegon''s chubby hand reach out, Rhaegar smiled knowingly.


    But before Aegon''s fingers could touch the bracelet, another hand intercepted his.


    "What are you doing?"


    Aegon''s expression changed, his voice tinged with embarrassment as he questioned the sudden interruption.


    With a gentle smile, Rhaegar replied, "Since you like bracelets so much, I''ll give you one."


    With a swift motion, Rhaegar pulled his arm back, causing Aegon to lose his bnce and stumble away from Hena.


    As Aegon fell to the ground with a soft scream, he tried to regain his footing, but his efforts were in vain.


    Thud


    Aegon''s back was crushed under the weight of a foot, causing him to scream in pain.


    "Ah! What are you doing? Let me go or I''ll call mother..."


    Desperately trying to wriggle free, Aegon tried to move, but his efforts were met with fierce resistance.


    Rhaegar quickly rolled over and straddled him, forcefully restraining his arm and delivering a stern ultimatum: "You broke your own sister''s fingers. I''m going to break my own brother''s arm. Fair enough?"


    "No, please, I was wrong! Let me go!"


    Aegon''s screams echoed down the hall as Rhaegar continued to apply pressure.


    Unable to tolerate Aegon''s incessant wailing, Rhaegar removed his buckskin shoes, pulled out two yellowed socks, and shoved them into Aegon''s mouth.


    "Your own socks, never mind!"


    Rhaegar chuckled softly before grabbing Aegon by the hair and dragging him outside.


    Having already given Hena a recement bracelet, Rhaegar had another one prepared in his cabin, especially for Aegon.


    As Hena watched Rhaegar drag Aegon away like a sack of potatoes, she stood frozen in ce, torn between wanting to follow them and being haunted by fragmented memories of a terrible incident.


    "Fire... Watch out for the mes..."


    Overwhelmed with fear, Hena screamed in distress, her anguished cries echoing down the corridor and catching the attention of a passing maid.


    ...


    Rhaegar dragged Aegon all the way to his cabin, his grip tightening with each step.


    As Aegon''s terrified eyes begged for mercy, Rhaegar threw him inside and mmed the hatch shut.


    With a scornful sneer, Rhaegar dered, "The bracelet was a gift from me to Hena. By taking it from her, you disrespect me!"


    "Now it''s time for you to learn the consequences of disrespecting me."


    Feigning a search under the bed, Rhaegar retrieved a recement fake bracelet from his space bracelet.


    Holding the fake up to Aegon''s trembling form, he taunted, "Like it? It''ll be yours in a moment."


    The ship sailed through the cold, damp sea air, but each cabin was equipped with a heater for warmth.


    Rhaegar opened the heater and removed the iron sheet covering the coals.


    The fiery coals glowed red as he dropped the false bracelet into them.


    The steel bracelet quickly absorbed the heat, turning red with intensity.


    Rhaegar used a rag to retrieve the scorching bracelet and approached Aegon with an evil smile, beckoning him forward, "Come, dear brother."


    "No! You can''t do this to me! Father wouldn''t allow it!"


    Aegon''s screams filled the cabin as he desperately tried to back away, his mouth free of the sock.


    Ignoring his protests, Rhaegar kicked him in the chest, forcing him to the ground.


    With a predatory stance, Rhaegar held the scalding steel bracelet close to Aegon''s face.


    "Don''t you like it? If I promised it to you, it''s yours."


    Dodging Aegon''s feeble attempts to push him away, Rhaegar leaned forward and held the blistering steel bracelet against Aegon''s skin with unrelenting force.


    ...


    The handmaiden carried Hena, who had passed out from crying, and hurried to Alicent''s cabin.


    Ignoring Harrold''s inquiries, she banged hard on the hatch door, her urgency palpable.


    When he noticed the unconscious little princess, Harrold''s face drained of color. "What happened here?" he demanded.


    The maid, too frantic to speak, continued to pound on the door.


    Crunch-


    Beneath the relentless pounding, the hatch swung open quickly from the inside.


    Alicent, d in a nightgown, emerged, her expression filled with concern as she saw Hena''s limp form.


    Fear gnawed at Alicent as she took her daughter into her arms. "What happened? How did Hena faint?" she asked worriedly.


    "The princess copsed in tears and kept mumbling the names of Princes Aegon and Rhaegar before she lost consciousness," the handmaiden replied, her voice shaking.


    "Aegon! What has happened to Aegon and how is Rhaegar involved?" Alicent''s distress deepened as she learned of her son''s involvement, her gaze piercing the maid''s.


    The handmaiden recoiled slightly in fear and whispered, "The princess mentioned something about being careful with fire, but I couldn''t make sense of it.


    rmed at her daughter''s condition, Alicent''s eyes widened, her unease reaching a fever pitch.


    "Watch over Hena," she told the maid firmly, then turned to Harrold. "Ser, something must have happened to Aegon and Rhaegar. I''ll look for Aegon; you go to Rhaegar''s quarters."


    With that, she dashed off, her footsteps echoing in her frantic rush.


    Only two steps into her dash, Alicent stopped abruptly in her tracks.


    Remembering the mishap at Rhaegar''sst birthday party, when Aegon had been shoved into the cake, Alicent''s eyes widened with concern.


    "I''ll go to Rhaegar''s quarters; you look for Aegon," she ordered firmly, her voice tinged with urgency.


    Sensing an imminent threat to her son, Alicent hurried to where she suspected Rhaegar might be.


    Navigating through the ship''s vast hold, Alicent traversed deep corridors until she reached a cluster of royal cabins set close together.


    As she approached another corridor, she was suddenly assaulted by Aegon''s agonized cries echoing through the passageway.


    "By the Sevens," Alicent murmured fervently, invoking a prayer for her child''s safety as she quickened her pace toward Rhaegar''s cabin.


    Arriving at the hatch, Alicent kicked it open with fierce determination, ignoring the pain shooting through her feet.


    Inside, she was met with a harrowing sight: Aegon, cornered and begging for mercy, while Rhaegar stood over him, brandishing a scorching steel bracelet.


    Fury coursed through Alicent''s veins as she bellowed, "Stop! Release him now!"


    Turning to face Alicent''s wrathful advance, Rhaegar''s demeanor changed and she forcibly pushed past him, allowing Alicent to cradle the sobbing Aegon in her arms.


    With a tter, the steel bracelet fell to the floor, leaving scorched marks on the wooden surface.


    Alicent''s shock and indignation surged at the sight before her.


    Confronting Rhaegar with fury, sheshed out, "You madman! Aegon is your brother, yet you would subject him to torture with a burning bracelet!"


    Rising to his feet, Rhaegar brushed off his wounded pride and retorted icily, "I am not Aegon. He may torment his sister, but I refuse to persecute my own brother that way."


    He pulled the steel bracelet from the ground, seemingly unaffected by the searing heat, and cast a scornful look at the stunned Aegon.


    "Only a coward would prey on defenseless girls whilecking the courage to face a true challenge," he taunted, his voice dripping with contempt.

 Chapter 51: Revealing Talent

    Chapter 51: Revealing Talent


    "Nonsense! I have witnessed your cruelty firsthand!"


    Alicent''s fervor zed, her gaze piercing Rhaegar with disgust.


    Rhaegar''s lips curled into a sneer. "Had I truly intended harm, you would not have had the opportunity to intervene and cradle him in your arms like a nursing mother."


    Alicent instinctively nced down at her chest, only to find her nightgown soaked. Tears and mucus stained Aegon''s face, mingled with droplets of spilled emotion.


    Without a word, Rhaegar tossed her a cloak and averted his gaze. "You cannot discipline your own son, leaving me, as his brother, with the responsibility."


    "I trust my own eyes," Alicent retorted, her hatred for Rhaegar palpable as she wiped the dirt from Aegon''s face.


    "Tell me, Aegon," she pleaded, her voice filled with desperation, "has he harmed you?"


    Aegon sobbed uncontrobly, ncing anxiously at Rhaegar, too frightened to speak.


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow in smug satisfaction.With clenched teeth and a racing heart, Alicent delivered a resounding p across Aegon''s cheek and snapped, "Snap out of it, Aegon!"


    "Tell me, has Rhaegar harmed you?" Her voice rose to a shrill pitch.


    Aegon flinched at the blow, his cheek reddening rapidly as he stammered through tears, "He struck me... and he burned me with fire..."


    Rhaegar''s brow furrowed slightly at the usation, casting a scornful nce at the trembling boy.


    "Brat, you dare add fuel to the fire!" he muttered under his breath.


    Alicent''s anger erupted as she confronted Rhaegar. "Do you hear me? Aegon used you of beating him, and I saw you burn him with that searing bracelet! What could he have done to provoke such cruelty from you?"


    Rhaegar stood speechless in the face of Alicent''s usations, unable to muster a response.


    Alicent''s words poured out, fueled by righteous indignation.


    Reading Rhaegar''s silence as indifference, Alicent''s resentment red, ready to unleash a torrent of rebuke.


    Before he could speak another word, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the corridor, interrupting the tense confrontation.


    Rhaegar''s gaze lifted, settling on the arrival of Kingsguard Captain Harrold escorting Viserys, and Rhaenyra, cloaked, following close behind.


    Despite his dizziness, Viserys forced himself to focus, his voice weak as he asked, "What is thismotion, disturbing the peace in the middle of the night?"


    At the sight of her husband''s arrival, Alicent''s tears flowed freely, her cries filled with anguish. "Look at Aegon! If I hadn''t intervened, he would have been subjected to Rhaegar''s torture!"


    Not one to remain silent, Aegon joined his mother''sment with his own cries.


    A somber silence fell over the hut as all eyes turned to the distraught mother and son, locked in an embrace, tears mingling.


    Viserys, his expression tinged with suspicion, turned his gaze to Rhaegar, his voice ringing with authority. "Rhaegar, is it true what your mother says?"


    "She''s not my mother, just a stepmother," Rhaegar retorted, his tone devoid of deference.


    The confrontation escted, with Rhaegar vehemently denying Alicent''s usations.


    His biological mother had long since died in childbirth, leaving Alicent as his stepmother, a figure he viewed with disdain for coveting his sister''s inheritance.


    "Enough! Regardless of her status as your stepmother, she fulfills the role of a mother in your life, and you will show her respect!" Viserys admonished his eldest son for his insolence.


    Rhaegar considered retorting, noting that it was his squire who tended to his needs. But acknowledging Alicent''s position as queen, he chose silence, understanding that the credit would inevitably fall to her.


    Observing her brother''s defiance, Rhaenyra redirected the conversation. "Rhaegar, what happened? Why did Her Grace use you of mistreating Aegon?"


    Her choice of words, substituting "torture" for "mistreating," did not escape Alicent''s notice. In her heart, Rhaegar was a dutiful and obedient son, incapable of harming others.


    Alicent picked up on the implication and retorted, "He''s a fiend, burning Aegon with a red-hot steel bracelet!"


    Viserys, sensing the tension, noticed with astonishment the reddened steel bracelet in Rhaegar''s hand. "Rhaegar, the bracelet in your possession..."


    There was no mistaking it - the bracelet gave off an intense heat.


    Rhaegar''s bold act of grasping the heated steel with his bare hands shocked his aging father to the core.


    It wasn''t until Viserys pointed it out that the others realized the truth, including Alicent, who had confronted Rhaegar moments earlier and had just turned the corner.


    In the face of their stunned expressions, Rhaegar nonchntly remarked, "After the burns healed, my tolerance for mes improved greatly."


    "See? I told you he was a demon! What kind of man isn''t afraid of mes!" Alicent''s usation rang out, her arms wrapped protectively around Aegon in horror, though her sentiment found no echo among the others.


    Once Viserys had recovered from his seasickness, he quickly tookmand. "Captain Harrold, seal off the corridor. Let no one approach."


    Harrold nodded dutifully, his gaze lingering on Rhaegar as he left, leaving only the family in the cabin.


    Viserys drew a deep breath, his gaze fixed on Rhaegar as he asked again, "Rhaegar, do you feel any pain?"


    "No, just a little warm," Rhaegar replied truthfully. Ever since he had been burned by the dragon''s mes, the potency of the Blood and Fire seemed to have increased, rendering himrgely immune to ordinary mes. Even as he held the zing steel bracelet, his palm remained unblistered, with only a slight sensation of heat.


    Viserys'' astonishment was palpable as he looked at Rhaegar with newfound awe. "It seems that the dragon me has awakened your ancient bloodline and given you fearlessness in the face of fire."


    Throughout the illustrious history of House Targaryen, there have been many tales of gifted individuals and their extraordinary abilities. Though none were immune to fire, Viserys believed it was a manifestation of their shared heritage.


    As the saying in their family lore went, "Blood and firee from the same source."


    Rhaegar made no protest, epting his father''s spection. He knew he couldn''t hide his abilities forever, and a prudent disy of them now might pave the way for greater eptance in the future.


    Watching the exchange between father and son, Alicent interjected eagerly, her voice charged with urgency. "Viserys! Rhaegar has harmed Aegon; you must bring him to justice!"


    In her eyes, Rhaegar''s actions against her child were unforgivable. Aegon was her emotional anchor, and she would never tolerate anyone mistreating her children.


    Viserys, nowposed, surveyed the distraught Aegon, noting the red, swollen p mark on his face and the visible signs of distress. His gaze then shifted to Rhaegar, his expression clouded with distaste. "He''s your brother. Why did you strike him?"


    "He provoked Hena and tried to steal the bracelet I gave her. I merely hit him," Rhaegar recounted truthfully, gesturing at Aegon''s cheeks with a hint of amusement. "The worst injury he suffered was not inflicted by me."


    Aegon recoiled from Rhaegar''s pointed finger and clung to his mother''s arms, his head bowed in shame.


    After a moment of contemtion, Viserys realized that the marks on Aegon''s face did not match the force Rhaegar could have used at his age.


    Approaching Alicent, Viserys took Aegon''s hand firmly, his tone stern. "Aegon, look at me."


    Aegon, overwhelmed with tears, obeyed, and Alicent shook him firmly, urging, "Your father is here for you. Show some courage."


    "If you truly have courage, confront Rhaegar like you do when you bully little girls," Rhaenyra interjected, her toneced with cold sarcasm.


    Aware of Hena''s preference for Rhaegar''spany and her own disdain for Aegon''s bullying, Rhaenyra''s words were meant to defend her brother.

 Chapter 52: Pick It Up!

    Chapter 52: Pick It Up!


    "Rhaenyra, enough!"


    Viserys'' voice cut through the tension and turned his attention to Aegon.


    "Have you been bullying Hena?" he asked sternly.


    Aegon''s answer was tentative, his fear palpable in the air as he admitted, "Yes."


    "And did Rhaegar punish you for it?"


    "Yes," Aegon replied, his voice barely above a whisper.


    Viserys'' eyes narrowed, his concern evident as he asked further, "Did he hurt you with the heated bracelet?"


    Aegon hesitated for a moment before answering, "No."


    Viserys shifted his attention to Aegon''s injured side, his touch gentle yet probing as he assessed the damage.As Viserys spoke, his tone carried a sense of authority and understanding, directed at both Aegon and Alicent.


    "Alicent, while Rhaegar''s actions may have been overly forceful, they did nosting damage to Aegon."


    Alicent bristled at Viserys'' assessment, her frustration evident in her response.


    "But what if things had escted further? What if no one had intervened?"


    "There were no signs of injury on Aegon; Rhaegar could not have caused them." Viserys'' expression hardened, his voice firm as he countered her concerns.


    "We cannot always shield our children from every conflict, Alicent. Sibling disagreements are part of growing up, and they must learn to deal with them."


    Alicent opened her mouth to protest, but Viserys cut her off with a pointedment.


    "I understand your concern, Alicent, but let us not forget that even I had my disagreements with Daemon in our youth."


    Alicent''s grip tightened around Aegon, her concern still evident as she sought reassurance from her husband.


    "Have you ever seen Daemon in distress, crying out in fear and pain?"


    Alicent hugged Aegon tightly, her gaze fixed on her husband.


    Once, her father had warned her that when Rhaenyra took the throne, she would never leave her children unattended. At the time, she had dismissed it as mere spection.


    Now it seemed to being true.


    Rhaenyra hadn''t even begun her reign and yet Rhaegar had already acted impulsively.


    Viserys furrowed his brow in irritation and lifted Alicent from the floor, trying to quell her temper as he gently intervened, "That''s enough for tonight, dear."


    "Rhaegar must apologize to Aegon and assure him there will be no further threats," Alicent insisted, seizing the opportunity to seek justice for her child.


    After a brief moment of reflection, Viserys turned his gaze to Rhaegar and Rhaenyra.


    With a sigh, he conceded, "Both children are to me; they should apologize to each other."


    "Aegon started the fight by bullying his sister, he should apologize first."


    Alicent asserted, her attention shifting to Aegon in her arms.


    Aegon''s face bore the marks of his ordeal, and he timidly stole a nce at Rhaegar, finally summoning the courage to speak, "I''m sorry, big brother."


    "All right, Rhaegar, it''s your turn," Viserys urged, signaling for Rhaegar''s cooperation.


    Rhaegar''s once hollow eyes suddenly brightened with a smile as he epted the apology, "I ept your apology and I apologize for my aggressive behavior. I shouldn''t have frightened you like that."


    He didn''t want to embarrass his father any further and saw no harm inplying with Alicent''s wishes.


    Viserys offered Alicent a forced smile and suggested, "It''s gettingte; let the children return to their rooms."


    Alicent nodded, content that justice had been served, while Aegon, still reeling from the encounter, remained silent.


    As they headed for the door, Rhaegar''s sudden action took everyone by surprise.


    "Aegon, don''t you like the bracelet? Take it," Rhaegar said, his voice devoid of emotion as he dropped the heated steel bracelet to the ground in front of Aegon.


    Aegon recoiled in fear, retreating into Alicent''s embrace.


    Viserys, furious, demanded, "Rhaegar, enough!"


    But Rhaegar remained indifferent, insisting, "I know it''s over, but Aegon wants the bracelet. I promised it to him."


    With a firm stare, Rhaegar ordered, "Pick it up and take it."


    "No... I can''t," Aegon protested, shaking his head vigorously and backing away from Rhaegar.


    "It''s yours. You must take it," Rhaegar''s tone turned icy, his patience wearing thin.


    "I don''t want it, ever," Aegon pleaded, his voice shaking.


    Undeterred by Aegon''s fear, Rhaegar''s voice grew colder, "Pick it up, I''ll let you."


    "No, I don''t want it," Aegon insisted, shrinking back into Alicent''s arms, eyes wide with fear.


    Rhaegar stood firm, his voice unyielding, "You must. I won''t ask again."


    As Aegon trembled with fear, Alicent''s expression crumbled, her gaze turned to Viserys, silently pleading for intervention.


    Her tear-filled eyes seemed to plead, "You see? Even your favorite son would persecute Aegon before you."


    As the situation escted, Rhaenyra stepped in, soaking a handkerchief in water and wrapping it around the bracelet before handing it to Aegon.


    Then, with concern etched on her face, she approached Rhaegar: "Stop this, Rhaegar."


    Seeing his sister''s concern, Rhaegar relented, his icy demeanor thawing as he teased, "It''s an easy task. How could Aegon struggle with it?"


    With the tension eased by the siblings'' exchange, the atmosphere in the room rxed slightly.


    But beneath the surface, it was clear that the family''s bnce had been upset.


    Viserys gave Rhaegar aplex look before leaving the room alone.


    Alicent snatched the damp cloth from Aegon''s hand, tears welling in her eyes as she left, her voice choked with emotion, "Remember your promise. I''ll keep Aegon away from you."


    Rhaegar watched her leave, his eyes widening with realization.


    Alicent had preconceived notions about him, and no amount of exnation would change her mind.


    With nothing more to say, Rhaegar remained silent.


    After the others had left, only Rhaegar and Rhaenyra remained in the cabin.


    Rhaenyra closed the door behind them and leaned against it with her arms crossed over her chest, sighing, "What got into you to cause such a scene?"


    "I just wanted to scare Aegon," Rhaegar replied helplessly.


    "It''s not that simple in Alicent''s eyes," Rhaenyra observed.


    "But what could I do? She bumped into me and immediately used me of plotting against Aegon," Rhaegarmented.


    Seeing her brother''s tired expression, Rhaenyra''s heart softened and she moved closer to embrace him.


    Stroking his silver hair, sheforted him, "In the future, mind your own business. Alicent is very protective of her children."


    "So are we less because weck a mother?" Rhaegar asked bitterly.


    "You know I didn''t mean that," Rhaenyra reassured him.


    "It doesn''t matter. A cub without the protection of a lioness must learn to grow sharp teeth and ws quickly," Rhaegar remarked, falling back onto the bed in frustration.


    His original n had been to take out his frustration on behalf of Hena, but Alicent''s usations had painted him as a viin, all based on the notion of "motherly love".


    Wasn''t he just being picked on because he didn''t have a mother?


    If he hadn''t resented Alicent''s overprotective nature, he wouldn''t have taken it out on Aegon again.


    "Well, don''t dwell on it. I''ll sleep with you tonight," Rhaenyra offered, understanding her brother''s feelings. She rubbed his right hand lovingly, noticing that it showed no signs of having touched hot steel.


    "You really are different, Rhaegar," she remarked quietly.


    With little desire for further conversation, Rhaegar undressed and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over himself.


    Rhaenyra didn''t press the matter any further, simply patting him on the shoulder and humming a soothing tune, much as she had when Rhaegar was a child, as she drifted off to sleep beside him.


    ...


    As the night passed, the sailboat continued its journey, navigating the waves until it reached the Throat Range.


    On deck, Rhaenyra held Rhaegar''s hand as they looked out over the sea and took in the sights.


    "The waters under King''s Landing''s jurisdiction are known as ckwater Bay. After sailing for a day and a night, we are now approaching the Gullet area," Rhaenyra exined.


    "Do you know the significance of the Gullet?" Rhaenyra inquired.


    Stepping out on deck to feel the wind, Rhaegar replied, "The Gullet serves as both the entrance and exit to ckwater Bay, making it as vital to it as a throat in the body."


    "Indeed," Rhaenyra confirmed, "the Gullet is protected by three strongholds: Dragonstone, Driftmark, and Sharp Point. Together they form a formidable line of sea defense, capable of withstanding even the strongest of foes."


    Pointing to a massive ind in the distance, Rhaenyra continued, "That ind you see over there is Driftmark, the ancestral domain of Lord Sea Serpent Corlys."

 Chapter 53: Dragonstone Island

    Chapter 53: Dragonstone Ind


    "The House of Vryon?"


    Rhaegar''s interest piqued at the mention.


    Rhaenyra chuckled, "Indeed, they are renowned for their mastery of long-distance navigation and have been steadfast allies of our house for generations."


    "I have heard tales of Lord Sea Serpent''s formidable character, which often caused our father no small amount of frustration."


    Rhaegar''s curiosity deepened.


    "It is true that there have been tensions in the past, stemming from disputes over inheritance. Our journey serves in part to heal those rifts and strengthen our bonds with House Vryon."


    Rhaenyra''s revtion hinted at hiddenplexities that further intrigued Rhaegar.


    "Why would we seek reconciliation with a house of lesser stature than our own?" Rhaegar asked, his brow furrowed in thought.


    "That is a matter for the king to weigh," Rhaenyra replied, a hint of frustration in her tone as she yfully tweaked her brother''s nose. As heir to the throne with limited powers, she could only specte on her father''s motives.Rhaegar pondered for a moment. "The Vryons are also said to have the ability to ride dragons, which brings its own dangers..."


    Rhaenyra''s expression faltered at his words, her dismay evident. "This is mainly due to Aunt Rhaenys'' influence."


    ...


    The sun hung high in the sky as the sailboat anchored in the waters under the jurisdiction of Dragonstone Ind. With a sense of relief, Viserys stepped onto the soft sand and savored the firmness beneath his feet.


    "Your Grace, the castle has prepared sumptuous delicacies and fine wine," Robert, the acting Lord of Dragonstone Ind, announced, leading his servants in a respectful greeting.


    Viserys'' smile widened at the mention of the banquet. "Excellent, this is exactly what I had in mind."


    Approaching his wife and children, Viserys sought to mend the previous night''s discord with words and smiles. Alicent followed him to the right, apanied by her children, while Rhaegar and his sister walked to the left, both sides clearly separated.


    Observing the scene, the acting City Lord of Dragonstone Ind took the opportunity to intervene.


    "The young prince and princess are setting foot on the ind for the first time. Would you like me to give them an introduction?" he offered.


    Without even looking at him, Rhaegar spoke up. "But my sister is the Princess of Dragonstone Ind," he exined, earning a gentle squeeze from Rhaenyra, who quietly urged him to refrain from further remarks.


    The acting city lord, slightly taken aback, turned to Rhaenyra for guidance. "Princess, would you like me to make a presentation to your siblings?"


    Rhaenyra nodded graciously. "Yes, Lord Robert, please enlighten them."


    "As you wish, Princess," Robert acknowledged, maintaining his smile as heunched into a description of Dragonstone Ind. "Dragonstone Ind is a vastndmass characterized by strange rock formations and sparse vegetation. Its most notable feature, however, is its active volcano, which makes it an ideal habitat for dragons."


    Despite the lord''s earnest attempt at conversation, his words seemed to fall on deaf ears, as most of the party were engrossed in their own thoughts. Viserys chuckled softly at the lord''s enthusiasm, while Rhaenyra made asional efforts to engage in conversation to ensure that his efforts didn''t go entirely unnoticed.


    As they approached the towering cliffs, arge gate decorated with carved dragons came into view. Robert stopped speaking and called to the towers nking the gate.


    The massive ck gates slowly creaked open, revealing a winding staircase that seemed to go on forever, leading to a colossal castle perched atop the high mountain. Built entirely of ck stone, the castle was meticulously designed to resemble a mighty dragon.


    Rows of upright guards stood behind the city gate, greeting Viserys with a resounding chorus as the gate swung open.


    The grandeur of the scene left Rhaegar awestruck as Viserys confidently led the way over the bridge-like stone steps. Robert resumed his enthusiasticmentary.


    "The castle on the ind of Dragonstone dates back to ancient Valyrian times and served as a strategic stronghold on the Westerosi maind," he exined animatedly. "Built of the durable ck stone characteristic of Valyrian architecture, the castle''s construction remains a marvel of ancient engineering."


    "From a distance, it resembles a magnificent dragon perched atop the mountain, surveying thends of Westeros," Robert continued, his excitement palpable.


    This time Rhaegar listened intently, captivated by the description of the dragon-shaped castle and the awe-inspiring staircase beneath his feet.


    After a long walk, they finally entered the castle. The inner hall exuded an air of grandeur, decorated in a palette of ck and red that reflected the aesthetic of the Targaryen House.


    Rhaegar took a moment to wash his hands before formally taking his ce at the table, ready to partake in the sumptuous feast thaty before him.


    As the meal drew to a close, Viserys contentedly rubbed his stomach and took a sip of fine wine before inquiring, "Robert, how has Dragonstone Ind faredtely?"


    Robert replied, "Your Majesty, two days ago, the volcano on the ind erupted, causing Vermithor and Silverwing to be agitated. Fortunately, they returned to their nest without harming anyone."


    Viserys nodded in relief. "That is fortunate. Tomorrow we will prepare my two sons to begin their dragon-bonding."


    Robert''s next words, however, brought a shadow of concern. "Your Majesty, due to the recent disturbance, the young dragons that were previously under guard have gone into hiding. Efforts are still underway to locate them."


    Viserys'' expression instantly darkened, his wine ss lowered as he turned a stern gaze on Robert. "The young dragons are missing? What of the ind''s dragon keepers and dragon guards?"


    Robert bowed his head in remorse. "My deepest apologies, Your Majesty. The young dragons were typically docile, and our vignce waned."


    Recognizing Robert''s responsibility, Viserys'' anger softened slightly. "Find the young dragons with the utmost urgency. The princes'' bond with them cannot be dyed."


    Robert bowed repeatedly, his determination evident as he hurried to organize the search.


    With only the family left at the table, Rhaenyra expressed her surprise. "It is unexpected that Vermithor and Silverwing have emerged after years of dormancy."


    Viserys reassured her, "It''s not unusual. Volcanic eruptions are natural phenomena, and dragons have an instinct to avoid danger."


    Thoughts of his own formidable dragon, Balerion, crossed Viserys'' mind. Once he had ridden the massive dragon through the skies of King''s Landing, but those days were long gone.


    With a chuckle, Viserys pushed back his chair. "I have indulged enough. Now it is time for your king and father to retire for a well-deserved rest."


    As Viserys left, the table fell silent for a moment, each member of the family finishing their meal before going their separate ways.


    ...


    It was early in the day, and Rhaegar persistently urged Rhaenyra to give him a tour of Dragonstone Ind.


    Despite her initial reluctance, Rhaenyra finally agreed to his request.


    They began their exploration by walking around the castle, marveling at the grand structures of the ancient Valyrian era.


    Rhaegar was particrly impressed by the castle''s dragon-shaped design and the towering spires that resembled the mythical creature, its head overlooking the ind from all directions.


    As the afternoon approached, Rhaenyra, unable to resist Rhaegar''s insistence, took him for a walk along the beach.


    As they gazed at the towering cliffs and the vast expanse of the sea, Rhaegar''s spirits lifted as he revelled in the freedom of nature.


    Compared to the confines of the Red Keep, the natural beauty of Dragonstone Ind was a refreshing change for him.


    Rhaenyra couldn''t help but chuckle as she watched her brother''s happiness. "You poor thing, you''ve hardly had a chance to venture outside since you were young."


    It dawned on Rhaegar that Dragonstone Ind was merely the threshold of the Targaryen family''s domain, not truly venturing beyond the confines of the king''s domain into the vastness of the Seven Kingdoms.


    "Sister,e quickly! There''s a deep, dark cave over here," Rhaegar called excitedly, beckoning Rhaenyra to join him.

 Chapter 54: Dragonglass

    Chapter 54: Dragonss


    Rhaenyra''s heart raced as she stepped onto the soft sand, shaking the water from her soaked boots. In the distance, she heard Rhaegar''s call, but when she looked up, he was gone.


    Panicking, she cried, "Where are you? I''ming for you!"


    "I''m over here! I''ll check first!" Rhaegar''s voice echoed faintly.


    Rhaenyra sprinted in the direction of his voice, the moss-covered cliffs stretching endlessly and dotted with numerous caves at their base.


    Scanning the cliffs frantically, Rhaenyra muttered in disbelief, unable to discern which cave Rhaegar had entered.


    "Stop hiding, Rhaegar! Come out and stop ying games with your sister!" Rhaenyra''s voice echoed through the cliffs, her frustration growing.


    But despite her calls, there was no response from Rhaegar.


    Now gripped by fear, Rhaenyra searched every cave, finding nothing but bat droppings and remnants of the tide''s retreat.


    Rhaegar was nowhere to be found.With her pulse pounding in her ears, Rhaenyra realized that Rhaegar''s disappearance was no joke.


    He had actually ventured into one of the caves.


    "Seven hells! Who knows how deep this cave goes or what dangers lurk within," Rhaenyra cursed under her breath, her mind racing with worry.


    With determination in her steps, she turned and sprinted back, intent on summoning the guards to aid in the search.


    ...


    In the castle, Viserysy fast asleep in his chamber.


    The years had taken their toll on him, his once vigorous frame now showing signs of aging, his energy waning with each passing day.


    Once, in days long past, before Rhaegar''s birth, he would have embraced his wife in the warmth of their bed, findingfort in her presence before drifting off to sleep.


    But now Alicent entered his chamber, her expression contorted in disgust as she caught a whiff of the lingering scent of alcohol that clung to him. With a disapproving frown, she quietly slipped away to seek refuge in another room.


    Years of marriage and refinement had not dulled her sensitivity to such smells, and she craved the freshness of a room untouched by the scent of liquor.


    Finding sce in the quiet solitude of the adjoining chamber, Alicent settled into a plush armchair, intending to steal a moment of respite from the chaos of the day.


    However, her rest was short-lived.


    A series of knocks jolted her from her half-conscious state, causing her to nce at the door, expecting to find a maid seeking her attention.


    But there was no one there, and no voice calling to her.


    Knock, knock...


    Alicent''s brow furrowed in confusion as she searched for the source of the sound, her senses on high alert.


    To her astonishment, the knocking seemed to being from the very walls of the chamber.


    More specifically, from within the walls themselves.


    Alicent''s heart quickened with a surge of panic, her mind racing as she struggled for a course of action.


    Then, as if in a nightmare, the bedroom wall began to shift, slowly rotating to reveal a hidden passageway.


    Alicent recoiled in shock, her hand shaking as she reached for a nearby knife, her instincts screaming at her to defend herself.


    As the wall swung halfway open, revealing the darkness beyond, Alicent''s mind raced with fear and uncertainty.


    Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that a simple room could hide such a secret passage.


    With bated breath, she peered into the yawning void of the secret passage, her nerves on edge as she awaited whatevery on the other side.


    "Who... who goes there?" she called out, her voice shaking with fear.


    Knock, knock...


    Two more insistent knocks echoed from the hidden passageway, apanied by a cool breeze that swept through the room.


    And then, suddenly, a figure cloaked in ck emerged from the darkness.


    ...


    A rustle came from the dimly lit crypt.


    Rattling--


    The sh of flint and a torch burst into me.


    The firelight flooded the crypt, casting a crimson glow on Rhaegar''s face.


    "Rhaenyra''s not following. Should I turn back?" Rhaegar murmured in a hushed tone as he returned the flint to his spatial bracelet.


    Since acquiring this treasure, he had been secretly stockpiling supplies for emergencies.


    Looking around, Rhaegar realized that he was standing in a tunnel, surrounded by remnants of mining activity, evidence of previous visitors.


    "Since I''m already here. Let''s keep going," Rhaegar reassured himself, his heartbeat slowly slowing as he stretched the torch into the darkness ahead.


    The cave stretched before him, its air crisp and inviting, urging Rhaegar to press on in search of the young dragon.


    His heart yearned to reunite with the fledgling dragon, unsure if it might be lurking within these depths, waiting to be discovered.


    As he traveled deeper into the cave, the passage narrowed, its walls bearing the scars of numerous cuts and excavations.


    A dark crystal protruded from the stone, its surface seeming to absorb the flickering firelight.


    "Is that dragonss?" Rhaegar wondered aloud, his fingers tracing the smooth surface of the ck crystal, memories of the months he had spent under the tutge of the two Maesters flooding back.


    In that time, he had gained knowledge of this unique mineral - dragonss - a unique substance found on Dragonstone, also known as obsidian. Though it adorned select armour and weapons within the Red Keep, its practical uses remainedrgely untapped.


    Rhaegar carefully removed a fragment of dragonss from a nearby chiseled pit and stowed it in his spatial bracelet - a rare addition to his collection.


    Since he was already here, he didn''t want to return empty-handed.


    Pushing forward, Rhaegar continued his journey into the depths of the tunnel, the light of his torch guiding his way.


    Despite the increasing depth, he remained undeterred, confident in his familiarity with the route.


    As he advanced, the tunnel began to narrow, the walls bing densely packed with dragonss ore.


    Soon, the entire passageway seemed to be carved from dragonss.


    Finally, he reached the end of the tunnel, where the firelight revealed intricate patterns carved into the walls of dragonss - depictions of shepherds, dragons, giants, and even grotesque-faced monsters.


    Approaching, Rhaegar studied the carvings, piecing together the meaning of each image.


    "The Song of Ice and Fire!" he eximed, his mind instantly conjuring the legendary prophecy.


    Etched into the dragonss wall was a narrative that epassed the Fourteen mes of the ancient Valyrian era, Aenar''s fabled voyage across the sea, and the chilling tale of a Long Night brought by sinister creatures.


    "The prophecy of Aegon the Conqueror is true. The Others really exist?" Rhaegar murmured in astonishment, his gaze fixed on the mesmerizing scene before him.


    This revtion eclipsed even the awe-inspiring presence of a dragon - the realization that the legendary monsters were no mere myth, but a tangible threat, foreseen and inscribed in the very heart of the Dragonss Mines on Dragonstone Ind.


    As Rhaegar reached out to brush the dust from the carving, a sudden beep rang in his ears, startling him.


    "A exploration mission is now active. Target: Dragonss Wall," the system announced, projecting a data panel in front of him.


    [Dragonss Wall]


    Exploration progress: 0.2%


    "From the exploration mission... the carvings seem to be authentic," he mused, interpreting the system''s feedback.


    The quality of the Dragonss Wall hinted at its significance - it was either extremely valuable or of considerable antiquity.


    The prophetic carvings adorning its surface were of undeniable value, their timeline far beyond his knowledge.


    It seemed he was on the verge of acquiring another priceless relic.


    Sitting on a small bench retrieved from his spatial bracelet, Rhaegar leaned back against the dragonss wall, patiently awaiting thepletion of the exploration.


    "I hope Rhaenyra will not grow anxious, fearing my absence," he murmured, his thoughts momentarily drifting to his sister''s well-being.


    ...


    In the bedroom that belonged to Alicent, she was jolted awake by a sudden surge of anxiety, her brow furrowed as she sat angrily in her chair, her gaze fixed forward.


    Before her stood a figure cloaked in ck, his arms folded resolutely behind his back.


    Breathing heavily, Alicent expressed her irritation. "What brings you to Dragonstone Ind and what is your purpose here?"


    Undeterred by her hostility, the ck-robed man spoke in a low, measured tone. "My purpose is unimportant. What matters is the purpose of your visit."


    Perplexed, Alicent inquired, "And what might that be?"


    The ck-robed man''s answer was cryptic. "The two princes were bought here to tame the young dragons, but unfortunately they were chased away. The relentless search of the guards will soon reveal their hiding ce."


    Alicent''s curiosity was piqued. "Is that so? And what knowledge do you have?"


    "I know the whereabouts of two young dragons," he revealed, his wordsden with meaning. "Prince Aegon may choose the first, but the other location must be shared."


    Alicent looked at him with uncertainty, her mind racing to decipher his intentions.


    Considering the immense value of a dragon to a Targaryen heir, she pressed, "Where can these young dragons be found?"

 Chapter 55: The Second Legendary Relic

    Chapter 55: The Second Legendary Relic


    In an instant, the sky turned to twilight, casting an ethereal glow over the dragonss mining cave where Rhaegar stood before the stone wall.


    The young prince had fallen into slumber, oblivious to the passage of time beyond his rest.


    Suddenly he stirred awake, a chill running through his body as he emerged from his sleep.


    Perplexed, Rhaegar surveyed his surroundings, his attention caught by a timely system beep.


    "The exploration isplete. Please im the reward," the announcement echoed through the cave.


    Instantly alert, Rhaegar''s eyes darted around, scanning every nook and cranny.


    [Dragonss Wall]


    Exploration progress: 100%


    "Where could it be?"Searching frantically, Rhaegar''s eyesnded on a circr, crimson halo hovering above the Dragonss Stone Wall.


    "Red... it''s a Legendary Level relic!" he eximed, his eyes widening in amazement as he cautiously reached out to touch the halo.


    A burst of red light erupted like fireworks, cascading over his head in a mesmerizing disy.


    "Relic sessfully retrieved. Initiating recognition..."


    "Recognition sessful. Confirmed as a Legendary Grade Relic: The Last me."


    "It truly is a Legendary Grade - a mysterious relic akin to [Blood and Fire]," Rhaegar remarked, rubbing his hands together in anticipation as he watched the faint embers of fire on the system panel.


    The core of the me burned with a vivid orange hue, its edges flickering in a wavering crimson dance as if on the verge of extinction.


    "Thest me... it seems its me is dying," Rhaegar observed with a mixture of fascination and concern, his curiosity driving him to attempt activation.


    "Activation failed. The Legendary Grade Relic has unique properties that require special conditions for activation," the system exined, prompting Rhaegar to recall his previous encounter with Balerion''s Skull and the [Dragon Relic] it yielded, which required a dragon bloodline for activation.


    "Indeed, treasures of this caliber are always apanied by unique requirements," he mused, determined to uncover the secrets hidden within the enigmatic Last me.


    With a furrowed brow, Rhaegar called up the note on the system panel, eager to gain any insight into the [Last me].


    "me is the enlightenment of a civilization, ancient civilizations grow from tenderness to behemoths, from strength to destruction..."


    "Each civilization has a unique legacy, immortal crystals preserved thest me, waiting for the chosen one to revive its glory..."


    The cryptic lines hinted at the origin of thest fire, but offered no explicit instructions on how to activate it.


    Rhaegar''s frown deepened, a pang of regret gnawing at him for possessing a treasure whose use remained unknown.


    "If it''s the Last me, it must be connected to fire and magic," he mused aloud, his thoughts racing.


    In the realm of fire and magic, the only thing that came to Rhaegar''s mind was dragons.


    "The Dragon''s Legacy required a dragon bloodline... could the Last me require a dragon''s me?" he spected, his mind consumed by a whirlwind of conjecture.


    As evening fell, the interior of the cave grew colder, Rhaegar''s breath crystallizing into white mist, a stark contrast to the flickering mes of the torch.


    "Oh no, it must be gettingte," he muttered to himself, noticing the passage of time.


    With the relics of his exploration secured, Rhaegar''s current adventure hade to an end, though he braced himself for the repercussions of his unauthorized excursion.


    Navigating the familiar path back, his mind raced with strategies to escape punishment.


    Outside, the moon cast a silvery glow over thendscape, while the sound of waves crashing against the shore failed to deter the vignt guards from their search.


    Emerging from the narrow cave, Rhaegar spotted a torch bobbing in the distance, apanied by a chorus of voices calling his name.


    "I''m here!" he shouted, raising the torch to signal his presence to the approaching guards.


    "Your Highness, quick, someonee!" one of the guards eximed urgently.


    The beach soon buzzed with activity as Rhaegar was surrounded by a crowd of figures, including Viserys and Rhaenyra.


    Before Viserys could speak, Rhaenyra, her face contorted with worry and anger, rushed forward and tackled Rhaegar to the ground.


    "You fool! Where did you go?" she cried, her voice choked with emotion.


    Rhaegar, subdued beneath her, exined, "I was just exploring the cave and stumbled upon something."


    "What could be more important than your safety? You almost gave me a heart attack!" Rhaenyra''s voice cracked with emotion as tears streamed down her cheeks. "You disappeared right in front of me. If something had happened to you, what would I have done?"


    "You are all I have left, Rhaegar," she continued, her tone softer now, but still filled with an underlying concern. "I can''t bear to lose you."


    Moved by his sister''s disy of affection, Rhaegar allowed himself to be scolded, covering his face with his hands as Rhaenyra delivered a series of light ps to his backside.


    "All right, Rhaenyra," Viserys intervened, his initial anger tempered by the sight of his daughter''s distress. He approached her and offered hisfort.


    Rhaenyra, her tears subsiding, issued a stern warning. "Next time, I will not hesitate to break your legs and drag you back to the Red Keep, where I will lock you in the attic for the rest of your days."


    Rhaegar nodded fervently, promising to heed her words and avoid such escapades in the future.


    Pulling a piece of dragonss from his pocket, Rhaegar spoke with a mixture of truth and deception. "I had no intention of leaving. It''s like something is calling me from the underground."


    "Bullshit. That''s just an excuse," Rhaenyra replied bluntly.


    Viserys, his brow furrowed in confusion, asked, "You entered the dragonss mining cave?"


    "Yes. Guided by an unknown force, I was drawn to the cave where I discovered an ancient prophecy," Rhaegar affirmed with conviction.


    Intrigued, Viserys leaned forward. "What prophecy?"


    Rhaegar traced several crude drawings in the sand, his expression grave. "Long ago, someone carved the legend of the Song of Ice and Fire in the dragonss mines."


    Viserys, realizing the significance of the prophecy, was eager to investigate further. "Is it really the Song of Ice and Fire? And which mine?"


    Viserys was moved by his eldest son''s solemn words, recognizing the weight they carried.


    As a dreamer, Rhaegar''s insights held considerable sway over him, prompting Viserys to lend a receptive ear to his son''s tales of adventure.


    Standing at the entrance to the cave, Viserys instructed, "You and Rhaenyra return to rest. She''s exhausted from searching all day."


    Apanied by Kingsguard Captain Harrold and two guards, Viserys ventured into the cave, his curiosity piqued.


    Meanwhile, Rhaenyra, still stunned by the revtion, muttered, "The Song of Ice and Fire... isn''t that just a legend?"


    Unable to answer at the moment, Rhaegar simply nodded. "Let''s discuss thatter. For now, let''s get back."


    "Then let''s go back." Rhaenyra murmured, averting her gaze but holding onto his hand tightly.


    As they made their way back, Rhaenyra clung to his hand, her exhaustion palpable.


    The hour had crept past midnight, and she had been searching tirelessly since lunch, her exhaustion palpable as fatigue and hunger gnawed relentlessly at her.


    ...


    After dinner, in Rhaegar''s bedroom, the siblings had freshened up and were now lying on the bed in their pajamas.


    Rhaegar meticulously recounted the history of the Song of Ice and Fire, detailing his discoveries in the cave.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes widened in wonder as she whispered, "So there are indeed otherworldly beings and armies of the undead in our world?"


    "Who can say? The Age of Heroes goes back thousands of years," Rhaegar replied thoughtfully, leaning into her embrace and enjoying herforting warmth. "Our ancestors were once dragonlords in the ancient Valyrian era, but if you go back further, they were just humble shepherds."


    "I believe the Song of Ice and Fire represents a catastrophe unique to the continent of Westeros," he continued, his eyes narrowing in thought.


    Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow. "Simr to the cmity that befell Valyria?"


    Rhaegar shook his head. "Not quite. The Long Night is an icy cmity brought by foreign spirits, and historical records suggest that it was the army of humanity that defeated it and saved the continent."


    "In contrast, despite the immense power of the ancient Valyrian civilization with its multitude of dragons, they ultimately sumbed to a cataclysmic natural disaster," he exined. "It emphasizes the terrible nature of the Doom, which offers no opportunity for resistance."


    Their conversation delved into the depths of history and prophecy, each revtion shedding new light on the mysteries of their world.

 Chapter 56: Making Decisions

    Chapter 56: Making Decisions


    "You seem quite knowledgeable!" Rhaenyra remarked with a teasing grin, pinching Rhaegar''s cheeks affectionately.


    "Indeed, I''ve been exposed to countless books. My head is bursting with knowledge," Rhaegar replied, a hint of exasperation in his tone as he recalled his extensive but tedious education.


    Humming softly, Rhaenyra leaned closer. "Since you''re so smart, help me solve a dilemma."


    "Go ahead," Rhaegar replied confidently.


    "Father has proposed a marriage alliance for me with Laenor Vryon, the Sea Snake''s son," Rhaenyra revealed, her tone matter-of-fact, though she omitted the fact that Rhaegar himself was another potential suitor.


    Rhaegar was taken aback, not expecting her question on the matter. Still a child, how could he understand the intricacies of politics?


    After a moment''s hesitation, Rhaegar ventured, "Do you have feelings for him?"


    "No," Rhaenyra replied tly.


    Trying to process the situation, Rhaegar struggled with his young mind. "Is Father trying to make an alliance with the Sea Snake?"Rhaenyra hugged him tighter, her tone light as she exined, "The Sea Snake is a renowned navalmander, and the Vryon family''s wealth and possession of three dragons make them a valuable asset worth pursuing."


    "That sounds like a sound strategy, in line with Father''s approach," Rhaegar observed, sensing his sister''s reluctance and adopting a more serious tone.


    "Tell me, should I ept the responsibility of being the heir?" Rhaenyra asked, her eyes twinkling mischievously.


    "In your position, I would have agreed," Rhaegar admitted quietly, looking away.


    Rhaenyra grunted lightly and pushed him away. "I knew you and Father were in this together."


    "No... I am not," Rhaegar protested anxiously. "But as heir, you may have to face challenges until a better solution is found."


    "Am I the problem?" Rhaenyra asked, her displeasure obvious.


    "No, It''s the Sea Snake!" Rhaegar eximed as the realization dawned on him.


    Rhaenyra choked on his words and rubbed her forehead, remembering, "Ever since Aunt Rhaenys missed out on the throne, the Sea Snake has held a grudge. His reputation as a troublemaker is well known."


    "We may not be able to eliminate the trouble, but we can neutralize the source," Rhaegar asserted firmly.


    "Rhaegar, I must warn you against such dangerous ideas!" Rhaenyra interjected sternly, taken aback by his suggestion.


    Shaking his head, Rhaegar rified, "I am not suggesting that we eliminate the Sea Snake. With so many members of the Vryon family, removing one sea snake, Corlys, wouldn''t make much difference. There are many more sea lions and seals."


    "He''s driven by a lust for power, and we can use that to break down his defenses," Rhaegar exined with a serious look on his face.


    Perplexed, Rhaenyra asked, "What would you do if you were in my position?"


    "In the Vryon family, nothing is as formidable as their sea fleet and the three dragons. The recent Battle of the Stepstones inflicted considerable damage on the Sea Snake''s fleet, so they''ll be vulnerable for some time," Rhaegar strategized.


    "Our focus should be on their dragons," he continued, his brow furrowed in thought.


    "Aunt Rhaenys, as a Targaryen princess, is unlikely to be a threat to us."


    "Her two children, especially her eldest daughter Laena, who has sessfully tamed Vhagar, are of concern. I''ve heard rumors that she is already betrothed and will soon marry into another house."


    "And her brother Laenor, whose dragon Sea Smoke has proven its strength in battle, are formidable opponents."


    Encouraged, Rhaenyra''s eyes sparkled with anticipation. "What is your n?"


    "We need to establish clear rules to break up their trio of dragons," Rhaegar suggested. "One option is to create a Royal Dragon Rider Regiment to bring back and regte dragon riders outside the Targaryen family name."


    "But won''t that be too obvious, considering that the Sea Snake''s children are the only non-Targaryen dragon riders?" Rhaenyra asked skeptically.


    "Convincing them to join voluntarily is unlikely. We may have to resort to coercion," Rhaegar admitted with a determined nod.


    Rhaegar pondered for a moment, feeling a sense of helplessness in the absence of sufficient deterrents. "If only Father had a full-grown dragon, we wouldn''t be in such a passive position."


    "Don''t be naive. Father''s interest in dragons has waned considerably since Balerion''s death," Rhaenyra reassured him, gently smoothing his furrowed brow. "You''re already quite perceptive. You''ll make a fine politician when you grow up."


    Disappointed, Rhaegar said, "I wanted to help you."


    "You will, when you''re older," Rhaenyra assured him, her tired voice softening as she nted a kiss on his forehead. "It''s not toote."


    Suddenly, Rhaegar''s expression became serious. "I do not wish to tame another young dragon. If I can''t hatch one myself, I might as well try to tame an adult dragon."


    Surprised by his sudden deration, Rhaenyra asked, "What has caused this change of heart?"


    "I may not be able to help you now, but harnessing the power of an adult dragon could be an invaluable aid," Rhaegar exined, rising from the bed to pull on his shoes. "I will find Lord Robert. He knows of Vermithor and Silverwing''s nest."


    "Do not be foolish. Haven''t you learned enough from Dreamfyre''s lessons?" Rhaenyra warned, grabbing his arm. "Adult dragons are dangerous. Vermithor in particr is known as the Bronze Fury. His temper is even fiercer than Dreamfyre''s."


    Rhaegar remained unperturbed, his confidence unshaken. "I almost tamed Dreamfyre once. I have the ability to tame a full-grown dragon."


    Rhaenyra''s gaze softened with a mixture of relief and helplessness as she squeezed his shoulder. "I will never allow you to risk your life for me, Rhaegar. Do you understand?"


    Rhaegar''s expression softened and he nodded in agreement. "I understand. I''ll try to be a good brother."


    Satisfied with his answer, Rhaenyra gently guided him back to bed, and Rhaegar fell silent, his mind consumed with thoughts of how to tame Vermithor or Silverwing.


    As the lights dimmed, Rhaegary on his side, his resolve firm. "Father needs me, and so does Rhaenyra..."


    With that, he drifted off to sleep, his determination to tame a full-grown dragon firmly nted in his mind.


    ...


    The next day arrived and Rhaegar was awakened from his sleep by a knock at the door.


    "Princess, the King has sent for you to discuss matters," Cole''s voice echoed through the door.


    "Understood, Ser Cole," Rhaenyra replied, quickly dressing before turning to Rhaegar. "No wandering off, understand?"


    "I promise," Rhaegar assured her, patting his chest.


    With a final admonition to Cole to keep an eye on her brother, Rhaenyra left the room.


    Meanwhile, Rhaegar was fully dressed when the servant arrived with breakfast.


    As he nibbled at a piece of bread, he nced at Cole standing guard at the door and asked, "Would you like to join me for breakfast, Ser Cole?"


    "Thank you, but there''s no need to bother," Cole politely declined.


    epting Cole''s refusal, Rhaegar continued to eat alone, feeling a pang of regret that Erryk was not present and that the Kingsguard contingent consisted only of Captain Harrold and Cole. If Erryk had apanied them, they could have shared a meal.


    "Ser Cole, any news on the search for the young dragons?" Rhaegar inquired suddenly.

 Chapter 57: Spying on Each Other

    Chapter 57: Spying on Each Other


    "Not yet. I hear Queen Alice has sent more men," Cole replied honestly.


    "Is Lord Robert involved in the search as well?" Rhaegar asked casually.


    "Yes, Lord Robert personally led a team and even searched the beachst night looking for you, Prince," Cole confirmed.


    With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, Rhaegar stood up. "I''ve finished eating, so I''ll take a stroll around the castle."


    Regardless of Cole''s thoughts on the matter, Rhaegar quickly made his way outside.


    Cole hesitated for a moment, considering that his duty was only to keep an eye on the prince, and wandering around the castle grounds wasn''t technically disobedience.


    He followed Rhaegar, keeping a watchful eye.


    "What do you think my sister and father will be discussing?" Rhaegar inquired as they walked.


    "The king and princess are probably discussing important matters, as usual," Cole replied modestly."I wonder if my sister trusts you that much?" Rhaegar prodded.


    Cole hesitated under further questioning and slowly replied, " Their recent conversations have revolved primarily around the princess''s possible marriage. I am privy to little else."


    "Are you familiar with Laenor?" Rhaegar pressed on.


    "The eldest son of Lord Corlys Vryon, the Sea Snake?" Cole confirmed.


    "It seems you know him," Rhaegar remarked.


    "When Lord Corlys served as Master of the Ships, the princess asionally interacted with his children, and I had the opportunity to meet them," Cole exined.


    Rhaegar turned to Cole with a serious expression on his face. "What is your honest opinion of Laenor?"


    Cole kept hisposure and gave an objective assessment. "Ser Laenor is handsome, amiable, and a skilled knight."


    "Does he have any faults?" Rhaegar persisted.


    Given Rhaenyra''s penchant for handsome, gentle men, there seemed little doubt that if Laenor truly embodied Cole''s glowing portrayal, it would be a match made in heaven.


    Cole maintained a stoic silence, refraining fromment, and Rhaegar understood the unspoken sentiment.


    Though Cole sensed something was wrong with Laenor, his sense of chivalrypelled him to refrain from disparaging others in their absence.


    Rhaegar asked cautiously, "Perhaps he struggles with drinking and gambling?"


    "Ser Laenor enjoys drinking but abstains from gambling," Cole affirmed with assurance.


    Rhaegar then inquired, "Was he involved with prostitutes and had a tumultuous personal life?"


    Cole hesitated before answering, "Ser Laenor never frequented brothels."


    "And his private life?" Rhaegar pressed.


    "At times I have heard whispers that Ser Laenor kept his distance from women, but there was no scandal to speak of in that regard," Cole replied cautiously.


    Rhaegar frowned, "You don''t refute his chaotic personal life, yet you im he keeps his distance from women. That''s contradictory."


    Cole remained impassive and avoided eye contact.


    Rhaegar, unable to get a clear answer, continued to ponder the implications.


    Then a realization struck him.


    "He prefers men?" Rhaegar''s surprise was obvious as he looked at Cole.


    Cole looked away, neither confirming nor denying.


    Rhaegar was able to decipher Cole''s reaction.


    "Father ns to marry Rhaenyra to a man whose sexual orientation deviates from the norm. Isn''t he concerned about the potential discord after the wedding?" Rhaegar pondered silently.


    The Targaryens were no strangers to intrigue.


    Each member possessed a carnivorous nature that did not shy away from maniption or deceit.


    "Absurd. Father''s decision-making is perplexing," Rhaegar muttered to himself, his resolve growing as he considered his next move.


    "Take me to Lord Robert''s chambers. He should have a map of Dragonstone Ind," Rhaegar instructed Cole.


    Cole asked, "Forgive me if I''m out of line, but why do you need a map of Dragonstone Ind?"


    "To find the dragon! Get the map before we continue," Rhaegar insisted firmly.


    "The search for the young dragons already has its own team. You don''t need to get involved," Cole pointed out.


    "Her Majesty the Queen has sent someone to look for them, but if they find the dragons, they will obviously be tamed by Aegon first, I can''t afford to wait idly," Rhaegar argued.


    Cole conceded the point and suggested, "If you want a map of Dragonstone Ind, you don''t have to go to Lord Robert''s chambers. There''s a pair hidden in the princess''s room."


    "Why didn''t you mention this before?" Rhaegar''s frustration was obvious.


    "You didn''t ask until now," Cole replied honestly.


    Rhaegar pped his forehead in exasperation before turning to head back.


    Once in the princess''s chambers, he found a massive map of Dragonstone Ind tucked under the bed.


    Sitting on the map, Rhaegar meticulously scanned its surface, searching for the location of the volcano. Vermithor and Silverwing resided in air beneath the volcano, so the search had to begin in its vicinity.


    "It lies east of Dragonstone Ind, in the Dragonmont," Rhaegar dered, his resolve firm.


    In addition to dragons, Dragonstone Ind was known for its unique geological formations.


    The Dragonmount stretched from east to west and contained the active volcano.


    With the general direction in mind, Rhaegar felt confident and determined to search for the dragon.


    He had already prepared his excuses.


    "I will find the young dragons!" he announced.


    Cole seemed ready to object, but Rhaegar raised his eyes and expressed his dissatisfaction. "The taming of dragons is a sacred duty given to every Targaryen. I am bound to join the search and do my part," Rhaegar dered solemnly.


    "I cannot justify your absence to the Princess if I allow this excursion," Cole countered, shaking his head.


    "Then you will apany me and ensure our return before dinner," Rhaegar insisted, striding toward the door without giving Cole a chance to protest.


    With a resigned sigh, Cole followed, feeling helpless.


    The prince''s status was extremely delicate; both the king and the princess held him in high esteem. All Cole could do was try to ensure Rhaegar''s safety to the best of his ability.


    The castle stood in the northern reaches of the ind of Dragonstone.


    Leaving the Red Keep, Rhaegar bypassed the stone-stepped promenade, choosing instead to head for the farmyard at the rear of the castle.


    Dragonstone Ind was home to a sizable poption of civilians, many of them Targaryen bastards.


    Having lived on Dragonstone for generations, they enjoyed rtivelyfortable living conditions.


    ...


    The conversation ended and Rhaenyra left her father''s chambers, a faint hint of sadness lingering on her brow.


    Viserys had spent half the night searching the Dragonss Wall for the prophecy, returning at dawn, driven by an urgency that allowed no rest, and eager to share his findings with Rhaenyra.


    He recounted the prophecy of the Song of Ice and Fire, detailing the ominous tale of the dagger and filling her with anxiety about the possible future regarding the Long Night and the Others.


    She asked herself, if that dreaded day were toe, would she have the courage and ability to lead the Seven Kingdoms through the Long Night?


    The answer she received was uncertain, leaning toward a resounding "no."


    "It''s fortunate the Long Night hasn''t gued us for millennia, and the prophesied prince named certainly won''t be the type to cower in fear," Rhaenyra reassured herself, her thoughts turning to Alicent''s son, Aegon, which rekindled her resolve and confidence.


    On her way back, Rhaenyra heard Alicent''s voice calling to her.


    "Rhaenyra, may we speak?" Alicent''s tone carried a hint of sincerity.


    Rhaenyra turned her head, brushing off the invitation. "What could we possibly have to talk about? It''s not time for afternoon tea yet."


    "Please, I''m truly sorry for my earlier suspicions, and I would like to have a sincere conversation," Alicent implored, her expression sincere and hopeful. "Just like old times, when we could talk about anything."


    Despite the friendly appearance, Rhaenyra could not shake the underlying feeling of contempt. Both sides were on the brink of confrontation, yet they still maintained the facade of sisterly affection.


    "Very well, let''s talk," Rhaenyra agreed reluctantly, curious about Alicent''s intentions.


    Alicent took Rhaenyra''s hand and led her to the castle gardens, a smile ying on her lips.


    As they strolled, Alicent broached the subject. "Why haven''t I seen Rhaegar?"


    "He''s resting. He snuck out yesterday and I forbid him to leave," Rhaenyra replied truthfully.


    "I heard about that. He stumbled upon an old prophecy, didn''t he?"


    "Yes, the Song of Ice and Fire."


    "Oh, I thought that was just another bedtime story to frighten children," Alicent remarked casually.


    "Indeed, a myth," Rhaenyra replied tersely, choosing not to borate.


    The Song of Ice and Fire was a prophecy reserved for the heirs, not meant for Alicent to understand.

 Chapter 58: The White Robe

    Chapter 58: The White Robe


    As dusk fell, Rhaegar''s footsteps came to a halt in the middle of a farnd, his gaze fixed on the rocky mountain range in the distance, devoid of vegetation.


    "Your Grace, we should return to the castle," Cole, acting as his guard, advised.


    Rhaegar''s eyes lingered on the distant mountains as he muttered, "The ind''s active volcano is that way."


    "Your Grace, the Princess will be displeased if we dy any longer," Cole sighed helplessly.


    "I understand. We''ll be back before nightfall," Rhaegar replied, his determination unwavering.


    After traversing the small town on the ind, Rhaegar gathered a wealth of information, including the approximate location of Vermithor and Silverwing''sir.


    "Let''s go, Ser Cole," Rhaegar called, taking onest look at a group of silver-haired children ying near the town''s entrance before turning back.


    Curious, Cole inquired, "Your Grace, do you long forpany?"


    "No, I was merely intrigued by the color of their hair," Rhaegar replied. The sight of the children''s silver hair made him wonder if any of them might be his half-brothers.After all, his father had been quite vigorous and robust in his youth.


    ...


    In the evening, after the family had finished dinner and retired to their rooms, Rhaenyra and Rhaegar retired to their bedroom, as was their custom, and engaged in quiet conversation.


    Rhaenyra broached the subject first. "Cole mentioned you were in town?"


    "I was looking for a young dragon to tame," Rhaegar replied calmly.


    "It would be advantageous for you to have one. A young dragon is better for a young Targaryen. Syrax and I have beenpanions since childhood," Rhaenyra remarked, understanding her sibling''s desire for a dragon.


    After a moment of thought, she continued, "Alicent came to see me and we had a long talk."


    "What did she want?" Rhaegar inquired.


    "I aske her the same question," Rhaenyra replied thoughtfully. "She mentioned my engagement and made some remarks that I dismissed."


    "And?" Rhaegar prompted.


    "I was in a sour mood, but Alicent was unfazed. She even brought up the whereabouts of the two young dragons," Rhaenyra recounted.


    "So you find it..." Rhaegar began.


    "Suspicious!" they both eximed at the same time, sharing a knowing smile.


    Rhaegar chuckled, "Alicent is sneaky. For her to seek you out, she must have an ulterior motive."


    "I agree. Alicent has always excelled at everything since childhood, and she harbors a deep-seated grudge against me. She would not extend kindness without a reason," Rhaenyra admitted with a wry smile.


    Rhaegar inquired further, "Where did she say the two young dragons were?"


    "They were sighted fighting on the east coast," Rhaenyra revealed.


    "Given their proximity to an active volcano, it''s usible," Rhaegar analyzed the location.


    Dragons thrived in high-temperature environments, making the caves beneath the volcano an ideal habitat for them.


    Rhaenyra''s grip tightened around a strand of hair, her determination evident in her eyes. "We must find the two young dragons before they do."


    "They are probably unharmed. There''s no need to rush," Rhaegar remarked, indifferent to the urgency.


    "What do you know? There are only three suitable dragons, and a gifted young dragon will grow quickly in the future," Rhaenyra retorted, her frustration evident as she pped his arm.


    "I wouldn''t know the dragons if I saw them. How am I supposed to tell the difference?" Rhaegar regretted.


    Rhaenyra sat up and gave him a sharp look. "Choose Sunfyre! The dragon with the golden scales and pale pink wing membranes."


    "Sunfyre hatched from the same clutch as your Syrax?" Rhaegar asked.


    "That is correct. Sunfyre hatched a few years after Syrax and is a magnificent specimen. You must im it," Rhaenyra pointed out, her concern evident.


    "Two Targaryen siblings, each riding a golden dragon, quite a spectacle," Rhaegar chuckled at the thought.


    "Rhaegar, I''m serious. Sunfyre is a perfect match for you. You wouldn''t want Aegon to im it, would you?" Rhaenyra''s concern for her brother''s choice of dragon was palpable. She had reserved Sunfyre for Rhaegar''s taming if he failed to hatch his own eggs by his tenth nameday.


    On this expedition, both Rhaegar and Aegon were tasked with taming their dragons, so Rhaenyra had arranged for Rhaegar to bond with Sunfyre first.


    As fate would have it, the eruption of the volcano forced the two young dragons to leave theirir.


    If Alicent had actually stumbled upon Sunfyre first and handed it over to Aegon for taming, Rhaenyra would feel sick.


    Seeing his sister on the verge of losing her temper, Rhaegar stifled a smile and assured her earnestly, "I will make every effort to tame Sunfyre and prevent Aegon from iming it."


    "Hmph, that''s more like it," Rhaenyra murmured softly, settling back down.


    In her mind, it was only fitting that the two siblings should each tame a golden dragon; it was the decree of fate.


    ...


    Early the next morning, Rhaegar rose from his bed and, with the help of the maid, donned a set of ck dragon-themed robes.


    Running his fingers over the dragonscale shoulder pads, Rhaegar sighed, "Must I really dress like this?"


    Rhaenyra, lyingzily on the bed, replied breathlessly, "The material of the dragon costume is exceptionally durable and breathable, perfect for extended activities."


    "I''ll wear whatever you want as long as you agree to my participation in the dragon search," Rhaegar asserted. He had spent the previous night trying to persuade Rhaenyra to allow him to join the search party, and had finally received her approval.


    Before he could leave, Rhaenyra called to him, "I do not feel well. Cole will apany you, and another team of dragonkeepers will be dispatched to follow."


    "Don''t worry. No matter how petty Alicent may be, she wouldn''t darey a hand on me," Rhaegar reassured her, patting his chest confidently as he set off with a sense of excitement.


    ...


    After leaving the castle, Rhaegar made his way to the active volcano, his goal not being a young dragon, thus avoiding the need to go to the eastern coast.


    "Your Grace, shouldn''t we go to the east coast first?" Cole interjected, noting the change in their direction and furrowing his brow in concern.


    Rhaegar responded with a rhetorical question, "The information about the East Coast came from Alicent. Do you think it''s all true?"


    Cole hesitated, at a loss for words. He had heard about the tense rtionship between the Queen and the Prince during their journey and understood the animosity between the two parties.


    "So, are you willing to apany me?" Rhaegar pressed, his gaze shifting to the white robes draped over Cole''s body.


    Somewhat taken aback, Rhaegar remarked, "The white robes signify the honor of the Kingsguard, correct?"


    "Yes, Your Grace," Cole affirmed, his hand caressing the fabric with a hint of pride in his eyes. "I came from humble beginnings, serving a certain lord as a teenager before earning battle honors in a conflict with the Dornish. It was through these trials that I earned the honor I hold today."


    "You value your current position highly, don''t you?" Rhaegar asked with a faint smile.


    Cole nodded solemnly. "Indeed, Your Grace. These white robes bestow upon me unparalleled honor and dignity."


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but feel a strange sensation at Cole''s white robes. The pristine hue evoked a sense of purity.


    Remembering a dream he once had, Rhaegar wondered aloud, "If it were soiled, would it not lose its purity?"


    Looking at the steadfast Cole, uncertainty flickered in Rhaegar''s eyes.


    "Cole, cherish it and keep it pure," Rhaegar instructed evenly.


    "I will, Your Grace," Cole replied, though perplexed by the prince''s emphasis on preserving the white robes. Still, he smiled and offered his assurance, his eyes bright with anticipation for the future.

 Chapter 59: Gray Ghost

    Chapter 59: Gray Ghost


    After a brief pause, the group moved on with hushed urgency.


    Before the sun reached its zenith, they reached a canyon within the Dragonmont.


    A Dragonkeeper apanying the group stepped forward to offer some insight: "Active volcanoes pose the threat of magma eruptions. To avoid such catastrophes, adult dragons on the ind often seek refuge deep underground in the surrounding area."


    Pointing to the ravine ahead, he continued, "This ravine was once inhabited by Vermithor and Silverwing, though they eventually abandoned it for reasons unknown.


    Rhaegar considered, "Shall we venture inside and take a look?"


    "Let the Dragonkeepers do it. Your presence isn''t necessary," Cole interjected, directing a few guards to investigate before jogging toward the canyon himself.


    Rhaegar saw no reason to disagree. It was an abandoned cave and the chances of encountering a dragon were slim. It simply wasn''t worth the risk.


    After a period of waiting, the sent dragonkeepers did not return, but two guards approached from the rear.


    Bowing respectfully to the group, one of the guards spoke hastily, "Lord Robert has located two young dragons. One is currently being held captive, and the other was discovered within Dragonmont.""Dragonmont is on the western side of the active volcano - a vast expanse of dangerous peaks where Silverwing recentlyid her eggs," the apanying dragonkeeper exined.


    "Then what are we waiting for? Let''s go!" Rhaegar eximed, his excitement palpable at the news of Silverwing''s presence in Dragonmont.


    But Cole leaned in close and warned in a whisper, "Your Grace, Dragonmont is teeming with adult dragons. It''s too risky."


    "We will only scout Dragonmont. Lord Robert will send his men as well. It should be no problem," Rhaegar countered, determined to seize the opportunity to encounter adult dragons.


    Designating one guard to stay behind and await the return of the missing Dragonkeepers, Rhaegar instructed another to lead the way.


    The journey to Dragonmont was swift, thendscape barren and deste, littered with ckened rocks. The air was oppressively hot, reminiscent of the sweltering heat of summer.


    As they ventured deeper into the cave of Dragonmont, Cole voiced his concern, "When will Lord Robert arrive? Our current manpower may not be enough to subdue a young dragon if it resists fiercely."


    "I''m not sure, Ser," the guard replied, somewhat taken aback by the question, before resuming his lead.


    As they progressed, the cave grew hotter and a foul smell permeated the air.


    Observing his surroundings, Rhaegar singled out the guard and asked, "Who instructed you to spread this information? Did you personally see Lord Robert?"


    The guard paled, unease evident in his reply, "Lord Robert is on his way, Your Grace. Please, do not worry."


    Sensing the guard''s vulnerability, Rhaegar snapped, "Cole, restrain him!"


    Without hesitation, Cole drew his longsword and pressed it against the guard''s neck, while the other Dragonkeepers quickly pinned him down.


    "Please, Your Grace, I speak the truth! The young dragon really does reside in Dragonmont, and Lord Robert will undoubtedly arrive soon," the guard pleaded desperately.


    "Gag him," Rhaegar ordered curtly, his patience wearing thin with the guard''s feeble attempts at persuasion. It was obvious that his words had little credibility.


    Furrowing his brow, Rhaegar crouched down and yed idly with two small stones. "This represents the East Coast, and this, the active volcano, Dragonmont..."


    In the heart of Dragonmont, Rhaegar carefully considered the one piece of information he possessed, wary of its implications.


    Alicent''s revtion about the east coast and the im of a dragon hatchling in Dragonmont left Rhaegar feeling disoriented.


    "What could be the guard''s intention in luring me to Dragonmont if the information about the East Coast is partially false?" Rhaegar murmured, his thoughts swirling.


    "It is certainly not with good intentions that they intend to take me to a young dragon," he concluded, his mind racing.


    Remembering the information about Silverwing nesting in Dragonmont, Rhaegar''s thoughts raced forward.


    "It is possible that their intention was for the recently nesting Silverwing to encounter me in Dragonmont and go into a rage," he spected.


    With that possibility in mind, Rhaegar took a deep breath, his desire to tame an adult dragon overriding any fear of deception.


    "Silverwing is in Dragonmont. I must try to tame her," he decided, knowing the risks.


    "Just a glimpse, and if it fails, we retreat," he decided, clinging to hope.


    Approaching the guards, Rhaegar addressed them condescendingly, "Did the message say the young dragon was in Dragonmont?"


    "Yes, Your Grace. That''s what Lord Robert''s message said. I swear." the guard defended in a panic.


    "Who gave you this information?" Rhaegar inquired further.


    "It was one of Lord Robert''s Dragonkeepers," the guard replied.


    "It seems someone has influenced this Dragonkeeper," Cole interjected, his intuition sharp.


    Rhaegar nodded in agreement. "I understand. This is a trap."


    "We should return, confront Lord Robert and expose the traitor," Cole suggested seriously.


    "No, we''ve already ventured into Dragonmont. There''s no reason to retreat now," Rhaegar countered, his resolve unwavering as he prepared to press on.


    But before he could continue, Cole stepped in front of him, his expression solemn. "Your Grace, Dragonmont is extremely dangerous. I cannot allow you to put yourself at risk."


    Before Rhaegar could answer, a painful roar echoed from deep within the cave.


    "Protect the prince and fall back!" Cole quickly ordered, positioning himself in front of Rhaegar with his sword drawn.


    As the roar continued, the Dragonkeepers formed a protective circle around Rhaegar, ready to defend against whatever threaty ahead.


    Rhaegar tugged at Cole''s white robe, his surprise evident as he eximed, "Listen, that doesn''t sound like a grown dragon."


    Cole''s eyes narrowed as he strained to listen.


    Indeed, the roarcked the depth of an adult dragon''s, its tone slightly softer and thinner.


    Rhaegar''s smile widened. "That''s what we''re looking for. Let''s go and investigate."


    Cole hesitated for a moment before Rhaegar stepped forward.


    Helpless, Cole gestured to the Dragonkeepers. "Take this traitor with you. If there''s danger, feed him to the dragon first."


    The gagged guard could only shake his head in panic as he was dragged away.


    Navigating through the darkness of the cave, Rhaegar followed the sound of the young dragon''s roar, his heart racing with anticipation.


    As the cave widened, a massive chamber came into view, and before him stood a restless beast - the young dragon.


    Approaching, Rhaegar observed the dragon''s features: light gray scales covering its body, translucent white wing membranes, and gray-blue vertical pupils filled with fear.


    "This is Grey Ghost, Your Grace," the dragon keeper apanying him identified the gray dragon.


    Rhaegar remained silent, taking in the scene before him.


    Gray Ghost, thoughrge, was lying on the ground, roaring in distress.


    "He''s hurt," Rhaegar remarked softly, noting the wounds that marred Gray Ghost''s body, blood seeping from the light gray scales.


    One of the worst wounds was on its wing, nearly torn from its ribs and dragging helplessly on the ground, making flight impossible.


    "It''s badly injured," Rhaegar repeated, remembering Alicent''s earlierment about a skirmish between two young dragons on the east coast.


    It seemed her words were true - Gray Ghost''s injuries were likely inflicted by Sunfyre.

 Chapter 60: Cannibal

    Chapter 60: Cannibal


    When a Dragonkeeper whispered, "Prince, shall we capture Gray Ghost?" Cole''s anger red, "Shut up! A badly injured young dragon will attack at any moment. Do you want to be reduced to ashes?" The Dragonkeeper, angry but silenced, retreated to watch over the messenger guards.


    Cole urged Rhaegar to return immediately and seek Lord Robert''s help in rescuing the dragon, wary of the danger posed by the dim cave and the excited young dragon.


    But Rhaegar shook his head and muttered, "This is a trap. There shouldn''t be just one badly injured Grey Ghost."


    "Exactly. That''s all the more reason to evacuate quickly," Cole insisted, his impatience evident as he tried to keep his voice down.


    Rumbling -


    Suddenly, a rumble echoed from above the cave, like the howl of the wind before a storm.


    As the group looked up, they saw a behemoth whose wings seemed to cover the sky, hovering over Dragonmont.


    "Seven hells!" Cole''s eyes widened in shock, unable to tear his gaze from the awe-inspiring sight.


    With a resounding bang, the behemoth circled before gliding to the ground, its colossal feetnding on the cliffs above the cave. Its sharp ws sliced through the rock, securing its position atop the mountain."Roar!!" The behemoth craned its neck, wings fully outstretched, and let out a deafening roar that echoed through the cave.


    Through theyers of obstruction, Rhaegar caught a glimpse of the behemoth''s entirety-ck as charcoal scales, massive enough to rival a small mountain, and a pair of green pupils that seemed to pierce his very soul.


    Every detail left Rhaegar stunned, his young mind overwhelmed by the sheer size of the creature before him.


    This giant dragon surpassed anything he had ever encountered before, dwarfing even Caraxes, whom he had seen only a few times, and Dreamfyre, who was nearly a century old.


    "Quickly! Quick, get the prince to retreat!" Cole sprang back into action, shoving a few Dragonkeepers aside and shielding Rhaegar behind him.


    "Cannibal... Cannibal..." A Dragonkeeper leaned forward, his voice shaking as he murmured the name of the giant ck dragon.


    "Wake up and hurry!" Cole pped him hard, urgency etched into every movement.


    The Dragonkeeper, his whole body shaking with fear, managed to stammer out, "This is the Cannibal, thergest wild dragon on the ind."


    Cole didn''t fully understand the meaning of the name "Cannibal", but he knew one thing for sure - if they didn''t flee now, they would be dragon fodderter.


    "Roar..." The Cannibal let out a low, ominous roar, his sinuous neck bending downward as he sniffed the air, searching for something.


    "Prince, I''ll get you out of here!" Cole dered, sword in hand as he reached for Rhaegar''s.


    But Rhaegar shook off his grasp, standing transfixed, his gaze fixed on the massive ck dragon above.


    Confusion flickered in Cole''s eyes as he watched Rhaegar tremble, his pupils dting, his breathing ragged.


    "Prince, what''s wrong?!" Cole waved his hand in front of Rhaegar''s eyes, but received no response.


    With a voice filled with excitement and wonder, Rhaegar murmured, "Cannibal... what a magnificent dragon... I have seen it before..."


    At that moment, Rhaegar seemed to be transported to another world, his focus entirely on the awe-inspiring dragon before him.


    Unbeknownst to Cole, the Cannibal had appeared in Rhaegar''s dreams three times before, thest time on the night before their arrival on the ind, revealing some of its physical features.


    What Rhaegar had thought were only dreams were now materializing before him in reality, causing a wave of indescribable excitement within him.


    Cole shook his body, trying to shake him out of his disoriented state.


    Meanwhile, the Cannibal stopped sniffing, and the dragon''s head stretched out, plunging into the depths of the cave below.


    It had chosen its prey for the journey.


    A delicious meal.


    The cannibal''s wings pped furiously, and the dragon''s maw,rge enough to swallow several warhorses, parted, releasing a searing st of air.


    Boom!


    In the next instant, ethereal green dragon mes, reflecting the color of the dragon''s pupils, erupted and cascaded into the cavern like a deluge.


    Crackling...


    Waves of heat surged forth, scorching the air and causing explosions as the surrounding stone walls liquefied like wax under the dragon''s fiery onught, molten streams dripping down like sticky tendrils.


    "Run... Run!"


    As scorching magma sttered to the ground and burst into fiery red blooms, a Dragonkeeper cried out in shock, fear causing her to turn and flee.


    Swiss...


    Cole''s movements were swift, his longsword cleanly severing its head.


    He shouted angrily, "Those who abandon battle will die!"


    The remaining Dragonkeepers were shaken and frightened, urging, "Ser Cole, the Cannibal is the most dangerous of the wild dragons, to him we are mere food. Let us flee!"


    "I understand the urgency to flee, but first ensure the Prince''s safety."


    Cole rebuked, then turned to Rhaegar and whispered, "Forgive me, Prince, but I must ensure your safety."


    With that, he moved to lift Rhaegar onto his shoulders.


    Rhaegar quickly dodged Cole''s outstretched arm, his expression more determined than ever. "You must go. The Seven Gods have led me here to arrange a meeting with it!"


    "This is no time to cling to faith. The Cannibal is clearly here to prey on young dragons. We cannot save it."


    Cole believed that Rhaegar''s intentions were noble, that he was trying to help the badly injured Gray Ghost.


    "No! It is not Gray Ghost that I want!"


    Rhaegar shook his head, a smile on his lips as he quickly maneuvered past Cole''s blocking stance.


    Under Cole''s incredulous gaze, Rhaegar dashed into the open expanse of the cave, braving theva that dripped like rain.


    Lifting his head high, Rhaegar sped his hands over his mouth and shouted with all his might in High Valyrian, "Cannibal, look at me!"


    His voice, tender yetmanding, echoed through the cave and reached the ears of the ck dragon.


    The Cannibal paused its fiery charge, its head swiveling from side to side, assessing whether the cave could amodate its massive form.


    Satisfied that there were no obstacles, the Cannibal folded its wings, retracted its sharp ws from the jagged rocks, and began a slow descent into the cavern''s depths.


    Meanwhile, the Gray Ghost trembled on the ground, casting fearful nces at the approaching predator and emitting a menacing growl at the top of its lungs.


    Unbeknownst to the Gray Ghost, Rhaegar approached with measured steps.


    Pressing his hands against the Gray Ghost''s tail, Rhaegar shouted in High Valyrian, " Get up and move!"


    Only after repeating hismand several times did the Gray Ghost shake off its fear and struggle to crawl away, its vertical pupils staring at him in disbelief.


    "Hide deeper in the cave!" Rhaegar continued in High Valyrian.


    "Roar!"


    The Gray Ghost whined nervously, its head scanning the area for a suitable hiding ce.


    Rhaegar scanned as well and spotted a climbable slope.


    Waving to the Gray Ghost, he quickly made his way up the slope, navigating past theva that was strewn about.


    Meanwhile, the Cannibal had already prated deep into the cave, his razor-sharp ws gripping the rock as he descended step by step.


    As if taunting his prey.


    Cole remained in the cave, stunned to witness Rhaegar''s bold move and hismunication with the young dragon.


    He took a tentative step forward.


    St!


    A massive chunk ofva fell from above, crashing down in front of him.


    As the crimsonva seared his vision, the heat singed Cole''s forehead, sending a searing sensation through him.


    Instinctively, his survival reflexes kicked in.


    Cole''s legs buckled, throwing him backward, narrowly missing the eruption ofva as it hit the ground.


    Copsing to the ground, he was quickly helped up by the Dragonkeepers behind him.


    "Ser, we must leave at once!"


    "Yes, the Prince is risking his life. Our priority is to retreat and seek reinforcements."


    "..."


    Several Dragonkeepers exchanged urgent words, determined to flee.


    Cole swung his sword fiercely, his eyes glowing with determination as he roared, "If you fear death, you cannot leave. If anything happens to the Prince, none of us will survive!"

 Chapter 61: A Leap of Faith

    Chapter 61: A Leap of Faith


    As he watched the prince plunge into the torrent ofva and fire, Cole felt his resolve waver.


    This was the king''s eldest son, and any mishap would be a stain he couldn''t bear.


    Summoning all his courage, Cole tried to charge out of the cave once more.


    But the temperature inside the cave was rising rapidly.


    Lava cascaded over the floor, creating an impassable barrier for any normal person.


    Cole could only watch helplessly as the prince led the young dragon, Gray Ghost, up the slope, his heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty.


    "Roar..."


    Finally, the Cannibalnded smoothly, his head held high as he let out a resounding roar in theva-filled cavern.


    It seemed to announce the hunter''s death sentence on his prey.At that moment, Rhaegar and Grey Ghost climbed up the slope, moving cautiously with their backs to the scorching stone wall.


    Following its roar, the cannibal turned its gaze toward Rhaegar and Gray Ghost, its huge vertical green pupils shing with a teasing glint.


    The two small creatures struggled to climb higher, but in reality they barely reached its chest height.


    Even to consume them, he would only have to lower his head to swallow them.


    The Cannibal twisted his neck and scanned his surroundings, his keen sense of smell picking up the scent of an intruder.


    This was a fierce dragon with a voracious appetite.


    It usually huntedrge fish in the sea, asionally stole eggs from female dragons on the ind, or hunted weak young dragons.


    Humans were not usually on its menu.


    However, those who entered its sight became fair game.


    With its paws bent at the knees, its spine arched downward, the Cannibal''s massive head lowered, eyeing the human snacks hidden in the cave.


    Its indifferent green vertical pupils dted as it prepared its dragon me.


    "No..."


    Cole stood at the edge of the cave, his gaze locked on the Cannibal''s gaping maw, directly in line with the boiling, eerie emerald dragon me.


    His entire body stiffened, as if he were witnessing the beckoning of his deceased grandmother.


    He recognized it as an invitation from the Stranger.


    As the dragon me was about to be released, a cry echoed through the underground cavern.


    "Cannibal! Look at me!"


    Dragons could understand a fraction of High Valyrian, and the nearly century-old adult dragon Cannibal naturally understood some of its meaning.


    With a disdainful nce at the terrified and stunned humans in the cave, the Cannibal withdrew its dragon me, closed its mouth, and turned its head back.


    Across the expanse, a human youth stood on a steep cliff, a young dragon snack at his feet.


    Indifferent, yet slightly annoyed by the interruption, the Cannibal locked eyes with the human, deciding to devour this oblivious prey first.


    Meeting the gaze of a ferocious adult dragon, Rhaegar''s eyes sparkled with excitement, shedding the fear he once felt when confronted by Dreamfyre.


    He was Rhaegar Targaryen.


    A pure-blooded descendant of the Dragonlords, and any fear of dragons faded into insignificance at this moment.


    Pulling Gray Ghost''s head behind him in a gesture ofmand, Rhaegar ordered, "Stay where you are, cowardly dragon!"


    Though Gray Ghost did not yet understand High Valyrian, he sensed the human''s intent.


    Trembling, he huddled close, burying his head under his wings, too afraid to look.


    Rhaegar''s expression wavered between annoyance and amusement. "How can a dragon be as timid as you? A shame to your kind."


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal couldn''t resist the tyranny in his heart and roared, showing his killing intent, the dragon mes converging in his throat.


    In the moment of crisis, Rhaegar patted the gray ghost''s bright white wing membrane and said, "Take care of yourself, I''m off on my own adventure."


    Having said that, Rhaegar took a step forward and fearlessly faced Cannibal in a prostrate position below.


    "Big guy, fate has destined you to be conquered by me!"


    Rhaegar shouted in High Valyrian, summoning every ounce of courage in his body and defiantly leaping down the steep cliff.


    "Roar!!!"


    The moment Rhaegar leapt down, dragon mes erupted with a low roar, and a green curtain of fire spread destruction.


    Watching the scene from afar, Cole sat down limply, both eyes lifeless.


    "Mad, the rumors are true, all Targaryens are mad..."


    How could he have imagined that a 6 year old child would dare to challenge an adult dragon? But none of that mattered.


    He had a premonition of what this demonic dragon would do.


    His life was about to end, and his honor had no meaning.


    However...


    The dragon me was always a step slower than Rhaegar.


    Between the whiskers of the ethereal green dragon mes, Rhaegar spread his hands wide like a bird and narrowly avoided the torrent of dragon me.


    His tiny body mmed into the broad spine of the hulking cannibal on the ground.


    Bang...


    Rhaegar fell heavily, the hard dragon scales felt like steel tes, and the recoil shocked him to the point where he nearly fainted.


    A strong desire for conquest filled his brain, straining his nerves and urging him to get up!


    Rhaegar staggered to his feet, his head spinning as he let his broken voice out and shouted, proving his determination to put his life on the line.


    "Cannibal, fly!"


    Following the guidelines of the Dragon Taming Handbook, Rhaegar gave the Cannibal his firstmand in High Valyrian.


    "Roar!"


    But the truth was very cruel, the Cannibal ignored hismand and roared angrily, twisting his body wildly.


    As it was about to strike down the human who was trying to tame it, a mouthful of dragon mebusted into flying ashes.


    It was the oldest andrgest wild dragon Dragonstone, and even the continent of Westeros, had ever seen.


    Many men had tried to tame it in the early years, and not one of them was not turned into charcoal.


    The little thing on his back was no exception.


    His feet shook so violently that Rhaegar couldn''t even stand, and he fell with a thud.


    In the moment of need, Rhaegar grabbed the Cannibal''s back scale and used his whole body to stabilize his body from being thrown out.


    "Hahaha!"


    Crisis descended on his head, but Rhaegar had no trace of fear in his heart, instead, he could not help butugh out loud.


    He was skating on thin ice at that moment.


    But it seemed that the danger that was about to overthrow him could not crush his will.


    It only stimted the madness hidden deep in his blood.


    "Cannibal, Imand you to fly, carry me to the sky!"


    Laughing maniacally in High Valyrian, Rhaegar steadied himself on his hands and knees and gave themand to fly once more.


    "Roar!"


    This time the Cannibal did not refuse hismand.


    His vertical pupils filled with rage, his limbs supported his body, and the sharp ws on his wings gripped the stone wall as he quickly climbed out of the narrow cave.


    You want to fly? Then let us fly!


    On the steep slope, the Gray Ghost that had been attacked by the dragon me was bleeding and prostrating on the ground, its head lying helplessly on its side on the ground, and the dragon''s mouth flowing with blood.


    Its gray-blue vertical pupils reflected the thin figure of Rhaegar.


    As the Cannibal climbed out of the cave, this clear reflection gradually blurred until it disappeared.


    This caused it to let out a mournful cry and look reluctantly at the massive Cannibal.


    ...


    The Cannibal''s body was as huge as a mountain, but his movements were still incredibly smooth.


    In a few moments, it climbed out of the underground cave and reappeared under the vast and boundless sky.


    "Cannibal, fly!"


    The blinding light forced Rhaegar to open his eyes, and he repeated themand as he gripped his back scales with both hands.


    He showed the Cannibal his own will.


    This dragon would not recognize a coward with a weak heart; he had already experienced failure once and would never repeat it.


    Under the blue sky and white clouds, the Cannibal''s dark, scaled body resembled a mountain of coal, his wings pping to stretch his majestic frame.


    Distracting sounds came to his ears as the Cannibal''s neck snapped back and his hideous dragon head closed in on the small creature on his back.


    A bloody mouth opened like an abyss, and the dragon let out a murderous roar.

 Chapter 62: Sky and Sea

    Chapter 62: Sky and Sea


    The dragon did not breathe fire, nor did it intend to tear Rhaegar apart.


    Instead, with a sweep of its powerful wings, the colossal figure of the Cannibal left the mountaintop and soared into the sky.


    As a sensation of weightlessness enveloped him, Rhaegar''s eyes fluttered open, revealing only a narrow slit, and he saw a view with nothing above but the drifting clouds.


    "Flight..."


    His eyes widened in astonishment, Rhaegar murmured softly, momentarily speechless at the miracle unfolding before him.


    In an instant, tion overcame Rhaegar and heughed exuberantly, "I am flying, I have sessfully mounted a dragon''s back!"


    Adjusting his posture to find a more secure position on the dragon''s back, Rhaegar leaned forward to look down at the earth.


    The Cannibal rose quickly, gliding above the clouds with effortless grace.


    The ind of Dragonstone, an area ofnd that would take a day to traverse on foot, now appeared unremarkable in Rhaegar''s eyes.Rhaegar understood that it was not the ind that had shrunk in size, but rather, from the vantage point of a dragon''s back, all things seemed smaller.


    Just as he began to rx, the Cannibal sent a burst of fire into the sky and propelled himself into the mes.


    Rhaegar''s pupils constricted slightly and he quickly twisted his body to avoid the dragon mes.


    Each dragon had different characteristics, and the hue of their mes followed the same logic.


    The Cannibal''s dragonfire manifested as a ghostly green reminiscent of death, its form resembling smoke that alternated between gaseous and liquid states, with formidable adhesive properties.


    Once tainted by his dragonfire, extinguishing the mes proved as difficult as plucking a maggot from a bone.


    While Rhaegar could temporarily withstand the searing heat of dragonfire, prolonged exposure was dangerous.


    With a resounding roar, the Cannibal plunged into the engulfing green mes, pping his wings with great force.


    Pinned against its spine, Rhaegar felt the heat of the dragonfire burn the back of his clothing, leaving reddened, swollen burns.


    Once again exposed to dragonfire, his injuries were less severe this time.


    Perhaps because of his purer bloodline, his resistance to the dragonfire had increased.


    Rhaegar, a defiant expression etched on his face, plucked at a smoldering strand of hair and shouted, "Dracarys!


    He felt the Cannibal''s stubborn determination.


    The ck dragon refused to acknowledge him.


    Very well, then. Let me face your mes and challenge your stubbornness.


    Let us see if this enraged dragon yields first, or if I am consumed by the mes.


    Hearing the High Valyrian''smand, the Cannibal grew increasingly agitated, twirling in the air and unleashing jets of dragonfire in an attempt to dislodge him.


    Rhaegar gritted his teeth, convinced that victory would go to the one who held out to the end.


    ...


    Inside the cave, the imposing silhouette of the Cannibal had vanished.


    The king''s eldest son had also vanished without a trace.


    After a brief pause, Cole regained hisposure and quickly made his way out.


    The prince was missing, and he had to inform the princess and the king.


    Regardless of the oue, he bore the responsibility.


    Emerging from Dragonmont in disarray, Cole encountered the Dragonkeeper, who had returned from his exploration of the canyon.


    Though the Dragonkeeper tried to stop him, Cole slipped past him and made a beeline for the castle.


    At some point, the once-clear sky changed color and was covered by darkening clouds.


    Bean-sized raindrops fell to the ground, the cold wind mirroring the coldness in his heart.


    Returning to the castle proved to be a challenge, arriving just in time for the royal family''s reunion in the hall.


    Observing Cole''s disheveled state, Viserys was the first to address him, inquiring, "Ser, why do you seem so agitated?"


    Cole bowed his head, his mind in turmoil as he replied, "The prince was carried off by a dragon."


    "A dragon?" Viserys'' reply was tinged with disbelief.


    Rhaenyra sprang to her feet, her gaze piercing as she asked Cole, "And you made no attempt to pursue the young dragon?"


    "We were led to Dragonmont under false pretenses, where we encountered a young dragon, only to be ambushed by a formidable adult dragon," Cole exined wearily, shaking his head. "Despite sensing danger, the prince refused to retreat and leaped onto the dragon''s back alone, seemingly intent on... taming it."


    "Gods, you stood by while Rhaegar mounted a full-grown dragon?" Viserys snapped in anger.


    Rhaenyra rushed to Cole''s side, her voice filled with fear, "Where is Rhaegar? Where is the dragon?"


    "I do not know. The prince gave amand to the giant dragon and took flight before we could intervene," Cole admitted helplessly.


    Cole had followed Rhaenyra for years, and though his knowledge of High Valyrian was rusty, it remained somewhat familiar to him.


    The resounding p echoed through the empty hall.


    Pointing her stinging hand usingly at Cole, Rhaenyra''s heart seethed with rage as she gritted her teeth and dered, "I have only one brother, and I trusted you to protect him!"


    "I am deeply sorry..." Cole''s face bore the mark of her p as he hung his head in shame.


    "Save your apologies! Send out search parties immediately, now!" Rhaenyra''s voice, clear and cold, echoed as she stormed out of the hall.


    Taming a full-grown dragon was no easy task.


    Every year on the ind of Dragonstone, brave individuals harbored secret ambitions to tame wild dragons.


    But not one soul ever seeded.


    Inevitably, they met their demise, reduced to ashes or left unrecognizable.


    At first, Rhaenyra thought that the lesson of the Dreamfyre incident would dissuade Rhaegar from attempting to tame a full-grown dragon.


    But to her dismay, Rhaegar still had the ambition to tame a full-grown dragon.


    The wild dragons of Dragonstone had long roamed without a master, their ferocious nature a challenge far beyond the chain-bound Dreamfyre.


    Rhaegar''s newfound desire to tame an adult dragon stemmed from his desire to help her.


    If any harm came to Rhaegar as a result...


    She dared not think of the guilt that would weigh on her for the rest of her days.


    ...


    Compared to the ferocity of dragonfire, every me in the mundane world seems mild byparison.


    The unleashed fury of a dragon has the ability toy waste to entire cities.


    Despite his best efforts to dislodge the stubborn human rider on his back, the Cannibal''s green eyes glowed with madness, each thunderous roar echoing through the clouds.


    "Cannibal, Dracarys!"


    Rhaegary prone on the dragon''s back,manding tirelessly.


    In response to thesemands, the Cannibal veered off course, maintaining a steady rhythm.


    Its body straightened, wings outstretched, neck slightly arched, slitted pupils fixed on the sea below.


    Intent on ridding itself of the nuisance clinging to its back, it plunged into the ocean at breakneck speed.


    As the rushing wind pressed against him, Rhaegar''s body stiffened, leaving only his bloodied hands clutching desperately to the dragon''s scales.


    The air pressure made it hard to breathe, and Rhaegar squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth open.


    He tried to scream, but his voice was lost in the rushing air.


    Plop!


    The Cannibal crashed directly into the rolling sea, sinking his entire body into it.


    Rhaegar was engulfed in salt water.


    Seawater filled his lungs, choking him, leaving him gasping for air.


    For a fleeting moment, a sense of helplessness washed over Rhaegar.


    Instinctively, he considered releasing his grip.


    "Roar..."


    On the ocean floor, the Cannibal let out a resounding roar, snatching at passing fish with hunger, tail iling and head rising with force.


    After breaking through the surface of the sea, the dragon spread its wings and soared back into the sky.


    Although dragons could dive into the sea for short periods, they could not stay there for long.


    Despising the seawater, the Cannibal quickly emerged from the ocean''s depths and rode the waves once more.


    This break gave Rhaegar a chance to catch his breath.


    As the Cannibal broke free of the sea''s grip, Rhaegar beat his chest and expelled seawater with a violent cough.


    Through a blurred vision, he saw the dragon glide across the surface of the water, its mighty wings churning up the waves in its wake.

 Chapter 63: Successful Taming

    Chapter 63: Sessful Taming


    "Cannibal, do you still not recognize me?"


    Rhaegary helplessly on the dragon''s back, trying tomunicate with the creature beneath him.


    At first, he did not expect an answer.


    But in a surprising development, the Cannibal''s gaze shifted backward, its green vertical pupils no longer filled with madness, but instead tinged with a hint of humanity.


    It had to be said that the unwavering will of the insignificant creature on its back had made an impression.


    Cannibal snorted at Rhaegar in disdain before pulling its head back and resuming its flight.


    At that moment.


    Rhaegar locked eyes with the Cannibal.


    Reflected in the Cannibal''s vertical pupils was Rhaegar''s face.A brief but powerful connection was formed between them.


    In that brief connection, Rhaegar sensed the essence of the Cannibal''s being.


    Fierce, lonely, and cold.


    Such were the depths of this ck dragon''s mind, wild and free.


    It didn''t care about the world, and it didn''t want a rider to disturb its peace.


    Now, however, the cannibal sensed Rhaegar''s resolve.


    It was willing to give him the opportunity to bend its will.


    Reading this, Rhaegar grinned, "Come on, the harder the test, the greater the reward."


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal roared into the sky, lifting his wings to rise violently.


    The Cannibal soared through the air at high speed, piercing through the dark cloudsden with water vapor.


    Reaching its highest point, Cannibal slowed down.


    It looked back at the tiny figures below it.


    Whoosh-


    The Cannibal''s thick neck arched backward, performing a mid-air backflip.


    Once, twice...


    Three times in a row, the Cannibal used the momentum of each somersault to maintain its posture before leaping downward, wings outstretched.


    Rhaegar clung desperately to anything he could reach.


    After enduring the onught of the three flips, dizziness enveloped him and his body went limp.


    The Cannibal roared triumphantly above the clouds.


    Unable to maintain his grip on the dragon''s scales, Rhaegar tumbled from its back.


    The Cannibal had been keeping a watchful eye on the insignificant pest that had clung to its back.


    Satisfied with the release of its prey, the Cannibal let out a victorious roar.


    Diving even faster, it positioned itself beneath Rhaegar''s falling body.


    Opening its jaws directly beneath him, the Cannibal ignited a fire in its throat.


    Intent on burning him to a crisp before devouring him whole.


    Boom!


    Green dragon mes erupted in the cloudy sky.


    Despite the danger, Rhaegar remained conscious.


    His descent continued, and as the fire drew closer, he braced himself for the searing heat.


    Death was near, but Rhaegar still sought a solution.


    With the Cannibal positioned directly below him, his chances of survival were not entirely lost.


    Spreading his limbs, he tried to change his trajectory in mid-fall.


    But the dragon''s mes descended, leaving him no way out.


    "I am Rhaegar Targaryen and I am capable of subduing any dragon in existence."


    Reciting these words as a mantra, Rhaegar closed his eyes and embraced the heat.


    Protected by blood and fire, he still wanted to tame the ck dragon.


    The dragon''s mes consumed Rhaegar''s clothing, exposing him to the intensity of the fire.


    Just as it was burning his flesh, a system beep interrupted.


    "Congrattions, the Last me has been activated. You have received..."


    [True Dragon''s Blood]


    Grade: Legendary (Red) Effect: Fire Elemental Affinity +50%.


    Review: "An ancient bloodline filled with mysterious power. They are the epitome of blood and fire."


    A fiery tendril emerged from the system panel, plunged into Rhaegar''s chest, and fused with his heart.


    In an instant, Rhaegar''s eyes snapped open, an unnatural flush spreading across his pale skin, veins pulsating in his temples.


    The system panel floated in front of him and changed.


    [Rhaegar Targaryen]


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold), Longevity (Green) Bloodline: Old Valyrian Dragonlord (+20%)


    Skill: Old Valyrian Language Proficiency


    Relic: Blood and Fire (+50% Resistance to me), True Dragon''s Blood (+50% Fire Affinity)


    Evaluation: "The ancient bloodline continues to grow, its purity unmatched."


    He stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the bloodline section as the percentages continued to rise.


    20%, 23%, 27%...


    In a single breath, the bloodline jumped to 33%, the "+" icon disappearing.


    Unknown to him, a shroud of me enveloped his body, merging with the dragon''s mes.


    Though he was unaware of the change, he felt a surge of power erupt from his heart, coursing through his veins.


    He continued to fall, not slowing down.


    Green mes still engulfed him, their heat electrifying his senses.


    Rhaegar made no sound, allowing the mes to consume him.


    Yet his skin remained unblemished, even as his body temperature rose.


    He was adapting to the fire.


    Still falling, Rhaegar maneuvered out of the dragon''s mes.


    He avoided falling into the Cannibal''s maw.


    He altered his trajectory, brushing the dragon''s jaws before crashing into its spine.


    The Cannibal''s head and taily close to him.


    Rhaegar reached for something, finally grabbing the tip of the tail as he prepared for the next descent.


    Silence!


    At that moment, the sky and the sea seemed strangely still.


    The wind and rain stopped.


    The Cannibal hovered over the surface of the sea, its wings no longer stirring the wind.


    Perhaps it began to doubt its own Dragon me, and wonder what happened.


    It was taken by surprise by this insignificant human intruder.


    Seizing the opportunity, Rhaegar regained his position atop the Cannibal''s spine.


    Gripping its scales tightly, Rhaegar braced himself for the resistance.


    But to his surprise, the Cannibal remained motionless.


    Rhaegar lifted his head to meet the dragon at eye level.


    Cannibal turned his head to look at Rhaegar with a calm gaze.


    At that moment, man and dragon locked eyes, their silhouettes mirrored in each other''s gaze.


    The dragon''s mouth was close to Rhaegar, its breath scorching hot against his skin.


    Rhaegar hesitated, then cautiously held out his palm.


    The Cannibal''s green pupils narrowed suspiciously and he let out a growl that nearly knocked Rhaegar off bnce.


    Turning his face to shield himself from the sulfurous stench, Rhaegar''s palm remained in the air.


    After a brief moment of anticipation, a rough texture grazed his palm, causing Rhaegar to slowly turn his head back, his brows rxing.


    The Cannibal craned his neck, allowing the scales to brush against Rhaegar''s palm in a gesture of eptance.


    Rhaegar watched in awe, his lips curling into a gentle smile, his heart brimming with pride.


    In return, the Cannibal looked at him with a hint of condescension in its vertical pupils, as if acknowledging his victory.


    It seemed to say, "You earned it, boy!"


    Rhaegar''s smile widened, his hands caressing the Cannibal''s scales with a sense of aplishment.


    "Cannibal, take flight!"


    With amand in High Valyrian, Rhaegar gripped the Cannibal''s scales tightly, ready to take flight.


    The Cannibal responded with a roar, but this time without resistance.


    With a powerful p of its wings, it rose into the sky, its flight smooth and seamless.


    Rhaegar marveled at the experience, unaware of the Cannibal''s extraordinary flying skills.


    As he loosened his grip and closed his eyes, enjoying the cool breeze on his face, the bond between Rhaegar and the Cannibal deepened.


    Though still adjusting to their newfound connection, both could sense each other''s thoughts and intentions.


    In a sign of understanding, the Cannibal slowed his pace and glided gracefully over the sea, asionally letting out a proud roar.


    It knew that Rhaegar had never ridden a dragon before, and it wanted to show him its best.


    Rhaegar, amused by the Cannibal''s behavior, couldn''t help but feel emotional.


    Pressing his cheek to the cool scales, he embraced the moment, knowing that this was his dragon - uniquely his.


    With hope in his heart, Rhaegar closed his eyes, inhaled the Cannibal''s scent, and whispered softly, "Our story, from this moment forward, shall echo through the ages."

 Chapter 64: Taming the Dragon and Returning

    Chapter 64: Taming the Dragon and Returning


    Dragonstone Ind, the castle.


    The rain pattered and dripped as cloaked soldiers marched from all sides of the castle.


    Viserys sat alone in the dimly lit hall, listening to the rain with deep eyes.


    The castle hall opens.


    A drenched Rhaenyra strides in.


    "Any news of Rhaegar?" Viserys said in a low voice.


    Rhaenyra said in a dejected tone, "A fisherman saw a pitch-ck dragon leaping toward the Narrow Sea."


    "Gather more men, mobilize all the manpower in the castle, and send out all the ships on the ind that can go to sea." Viserys'' face changed and he sighed deeply.


    He had already researched the origin of the pitch-ck dragon.It was thergest and oldest wild dragon on the ind.


    Often preying on young dragons and dragon eggs, it was known to the fishermen as the Cannibal.


    It was a vicious ck dragon.


    Rhaegar was only a six-year-old child, and the chances of taming the Cannibal were slim.


    For now, they could only pray that the Cannibal''s distaste for human flesh would allow Rhaegar to save his life.


    Wiping the water stains from her face, Rhaenyra said in a trance, "All the manpower that can be sent has already been dispatched, and I have also asked the people to prepare a great ship for the return voyage to King''s Landing."


    "Return to King''s Landing?" Viserys looked at her in disbelief.


    Rhaenyra''s face was filled with worry, "If there is no word from Rhaegar tonight, I will return to King''s Landing to take Syrax and set out to the sea in search of the ck Dragon."


    "That''s not a good idea, the ck Dragon is much bigger than Syrax, you and your dragon will only be its food."


    Viserys was very clear-headed and rejected the suggestion immediately.


    "If ites to that, I will ughter that wild dragon." Rhaenyra said stubbornly.


    ....


    On the third floor, Alicent sat on the edge of her bed.


    A ck-robed man stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows of the balcony, overlooking the castle''s tumult below.


    "You set the boy up for the wild dragon to devour him." Alicent''s face was tense and her tone irritated.


    The ck-robed man turned and said indifferently, "That was his bad luck, I had originally nned to lure in Silverwing who had lost her dragon eggs, who knew a wild dragon would intervene."


    "It was you who asked me to reveal the information to Rhaenyra and trick him into traveling to Dragonmont." Alicent''s eyes were red with inexplicable fear.


    Naturally, she knew that the man in ck had found her so that he could set a trap for Rhaegar.


    But the panic she felt after having done that made her uneasy.


    The man in ck knew this about her and said sarcastically, "If the king''s eldest son dies, your son Aegon is the first male heir, shouldn''t you be happy?"


    "But I''m afraid, if Rhaegar isn''t dead..."


    Alicent was a bit ufortable.


    "The Cannibal is the most savage of the wild dragons. The boy had no chance to tame it. I''m afraid he''s met his end in the dragon''s mouth by now."


    He did not believe that a wild dragon that had survived alone for decades could be tamed by a small child.


    He had already moved the Dragonkeeper who had delivered the false message, and nothing could be learned from the two guards who had been taken into custody for questioning.


    Alicent closed her mouth and covered her face with her hands in distress.


    She was still frightened and her resolve was weak.


    The ck-robed man said indifferently, "Don''t worry, even if the boy gets away with it, I have other ways."


    ...


    The bickering in the castle was non-stop, and Rhaegar became the center of the conversation.


    Rhaegar knew nothing of this and enjoyed the pleasure of riding a dragon.


    After a long journey across the wide, narrow sea, Rhaegar finally had enough.


    "Cannibal, let''s return to Dragonstone Ind."


    Rhaegar spoke in High Valyrian and gave his orders to Cannibal.


    The connection between them was still new, and he had to rely onnguage to conveymands.


    But Cannibal was an adult dragon with a sense of self-respect.


    As soon as it recognized Rhaegar, it stopped resisting.


    The dragon''s head reversed direction and pped its wings to elerate forward.


    The speed of the Cannibal at full power was extremely fast.


    It was like a ck meteor streaking through the dark clouds.


    It didn''t take long for the Cannibal to arrive and for Dragonstone Ind to appear beneath it.


    "Cannibal, let''s fly low, I''ll show Rhaenyra and the others how powerful you are." Rhaegar''s face was filled with anticipation.


    He had tamed the mightiest of the wild dragons and now he had to surprise everyone.


    At that moment, the castle was in chaos.


    Rhaenyra argued with Viserys and ran out of the hall.


    When she found Lord Robert, she ordered him to prepare the ship for the return voyage.


    "I want to be back in King''s Landing by morning, not a moment too soon." Rhaenyra urged.


    Lord Robert had a troubled look on his face and didn''t dare take the liberty of arranging the princess''s return without the king''s consent.


    "Roar..." In an instant, a deafening dragon roar echoed throughout the castle.


    Rhaenyra raised her head as a gust of wind whistled, blowing her long, wet hair away.


    In her line of sight, a huge beast, ck as charcoal, soared above the castle.


    A pair of sky-covering wings enveloped half of the castle, stopping half of the rain.


    "Dragon! It''s a ck dragon!"


    A guard was the first to speak, screaming in panic.


    The others snapped to attention and stared fearfully at the dragon above their heads.


    Cole, who was in a sorry state, ran from the corner to Rhaenyra and said eagerly, "Princess, it''s that dragon that took the prince."


    "I know, I saw Rhaegar."


    Rhaenyra was lost in thought as she looked up at the ck dragon circling overhead, her eyes unblinking as she stared at the figure on the dragon''s back.


    Despite the distance, it was hard to make out.


    Rhaenyra knew only that it had to be Rhaegar.


    Under the horrified eyes of the crowd, the Cannibal circled the castle three times.


    Then he glided down slowly.


    Rumbling


    Apanied by a thunderous st, the Cannibal circled the castle''s towers andnded smoothly on the towering walls.


    With both limbs stepping on the wall, the Cannibal''s wings spread wide, its neck stretched out and roared at the sky, and a ghostly green dragon me cut through the pouring rain.


    Seeing the dragon mes, the guards were all frightened to the ground, not daring to move an inch.


    "Cannibal, let me down," Rhaegar said softly, riding on the dragon''s back.


    The Cannibal let out a low roar, its wings curled up on either side of its body, and its slender neck was lowered so that it stuck close to the ground of the castle''s school yard.


    The Cannibal exposed Rhaegar to a multitude of eyes as it lowered its head.


    Rhaenyra looked up from below. She was staring at him excitedly.


    "Rhaegar!"


    Rhaenyra cried in concern, running quickly toward the wall.


    Rhaegar did not jump off the dragon''s back, looking down at his sister.


    He followed the neck of the dragon to the top of the Cannibal''s head.


    One hand held the dragon''s horn, bent to the side, and he looked down from above.


    Rhaenyra ran to the top of the Cannibal''s head, gulping unconsciously as she saw the green eyes.


    The Cannibal was worthy of being the strongest wild dragon.


    Never mind its massive size and ferocious character.


    Just looking at him was enough to make you want to cry.


    His entire body was as ck as charcoal without a hint of mixed color.


    Indifferent to everything, the green eyes were like two clusters of ghostly mes.


    The head of the fierce dragon was full of sharp horns and spikes, and one pair ofrge horns and two pairs of small horns were bent back to form a crown of gray horns.


    If you stood in front of Cannibal and stared into his eyes, you would think that you had just seen an evil god, iparably evil and terrifying.


    Rhaenyra felt the searing breath of the Cannibal. She took half a step back, signaling that she meant no harm.


    "Great, Rhaegar, I thought something had happened to you," she said ecstatically, looking at Rhaegar on the dragon''s head.


    God knows how worried she had been.


    She had only one brother, and without him, she was as good as gone.


    "I said I could tame a full-grown dragon, and now I''ve done it," Rhaegar said calmly.

 Chapter 65: Nightmare

    Chapter 65: Nightmare


    "You really did, you showed great courage!"


    With tears streaming down her cheeks, Rhaenyra''s heart swelled with a mixture of relief and gratitude as she spoke.


    Rhaegar''s smile widened as he heard her words. "Indeed, I have sworn to protect you."


    But his fleeting joy was cut short.


    Rhaenyra''sughter erupted, her cheeks flushing with amusement. "A true gentleman should dress appropriately before facing ady."


    A breeze whispered past, and Rhaegar looked down in embarrassment.


    Exposed and naked, he hurried to cover himself, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. "Let''s not dwell on the details."


    "Get down, there''s much to discuss." Rhaenyra wiped away her tears and stifled augh.


    Rhaegar humbled himself and obediently dismounted from the dragon''s back.Approaching him, Rhaenyra wrapped her cloak around him, shielding him from the cold.


    Struggling to hide his shame, Rhaegar gestured to Cannibal. "This is my dragon, Cannibal."


    "Isn''t that the name the fishermen gave it?" Rhaenyra, indifferent to dragon names, hugged her brother tightly.


    Rhaegar grinned. "Cannibal likes the name, and so do I. It suits his dark nature, devouring all light."


    "You''re getting smarter, Rhaegar," Rhaenyra''s eyes shimmered with a myriad of emotions as she nted a kiss on his cheek.


    "Come on, Father nearly fainted when he heard you were captured by Cannibal."


    Reluctant to let him go, Rhaenyra held on tightly.


    With no clothes to cover himself, Rhaegar offered no resistance.


    Turning back to Cannibal, he shouted, "Stay close, I will seek you out tomorrow!"


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal echoed the call, leaping down from the castle wall to perch on the surrounding cliffs.


    Only when Cannibal''s eyes closed did the castle guards cautiously emerge and gather around the siblings.


    Rhaegar singled out one of the guards. "Prepare plenty of cattle for my dragon."


    "Yes, Your Grace!" The guard''s response was swift, filled with urgency.


    Without dy, the guards obeyed their prince''smand and ran to prepare offerings for the dragon.


    ...


    As they entered the hall, Viserys was waiting at the door.


    When Rhaegar saw Rhaenyra''s embrace, his eyes bright with excitement, he nodded earnestly. "It''s good to have you back and in one piece."


    Rhaegar''s grin faltered as he bowed his head. "Forgive me, Father, for not seeking your consent before secretly taming the dragon."


    "It is forgiven. We were concerned for your safety, yet you aplished what we thought impossible."


    In a rare show of tenderness, Viserys moved closer and gently cupped Rhaegar''s forehead. "Well done, my son. Your sister rified your intentions in taming the dragon; it was not an act of selfishness."


    "Not quite. I was looking for an adult dragon."


    Rhaegar''s sudden confession surprised him, revealing his true intentions.


    He could not fathom settling for a young dragon; only a formidable adult dragon was worthy in his eyes.


    When he heard of Vhagar, the mightiest dragon in existence, his fantasies soared.


    Though Vhagar had been tamed by Laena Vryon, fortune smiled upon him.


    The fearsome beast, Cannibal, was waiting for him.


    Its ominous face and brute strength stirred something primal in him.


    Viserys smiled, his tone neutral. "As long as you remain dedicated to protecting your loved ones, that is all that matters."


    Then, as if remembering something vital, his expression changed to one of determination. "You have both endured the rain. Go and take a warm bath, and I will have Lord Robert prepare a sumptuous feast tomemorate your conquest of the wild dragon."


    His emotions had been on edge all day.


    He had feared for the safety of his eldest son when he dared to tame a wild dragon.


    But he had underestimated the boy.


    With his noble lineage and the favor of the gods, he had miraculously tamed the fierce ck dragon.


    Born alongside Dreamfyre, Vermithor, and Silverwing, Cannibal had remained untamed, growingrger and more powerful as a wild dragon.


    Heeding her father''s advice, Rhaenyra led Rhaegar back upstairs.


    Only now did she realize that her clothes were soaking wet, leaving her cold and drenched.


    Pride and worry warred in his eyes as Viserys watched his children leave.


    As he thought, he muttered, "The family nowmands a grown dragon, another source of power."


    He had no idea of Cannibal''s true size.


    He imagined it to be nearly eighty percent the size of Vermithor.


    It should be a colossal creature, filled with destructive potential.


    ...


    Alicent was absent from dinner.


    The maid reported that she was indisposed and in shock.


    Viserys felt a pang of disappointment, but he hid it from his children, maintaining a facade of contentment.


    Rhaegar also felt a sense of disappointment; he had been eager to show off his dragon.


    After dinner, Rhaenyra grabbed him and dragged him by force into her chambers.


    Without a word, he was pushed onto therge, plush bed.


    Rhaegar''s expression was tense, his voice trembling as he asked, "Sister, what are you doing?"


    "What do you think?" came her curt reply.


    As soon as he crossed the threshold, Rhaenyra''s demeanor changed abruptly, fixing him with a puzzled, cross-eyed stare.


    "I did not mean to deceive you, but I wanted a full-grown dragon," Rhaegar murmured, his tone tinged with concern.


    "Given your previous statements, what are your intentions now?"


    Rhaenyra had not forgotten his earlierments and was genuinely concerned that he might lead a dragon to the Driftmark and cause havoc.


    A reckless child.


    He dared to mount a wild dragon and then rode it recklessly as it spat fire into the sky.


    "Don''t worry, I''ll behave myself. I understand that dragons aren''t just tools," Rhaegar promised seriously.


    Rhaenyra pinched his cheeks, pulling them sharply as she spoke, "When have you ever kept your word? Your credibility with me is nonexistent."


    "So what''s the verdict? I''ve tamed Cannibal. You can''t stop me from riding him, can you?" Rhaegary sprawled on the bed, resigned. His mouth formed a retort, but his mind was already nning tomorrow''s dragon ride, far away from here.


    He longed for a short escapade to explore the world beyond King''s Landing, now that he had a dragon at hismand.


    "Hmph, no funny business, at least until you''re safely back from the Driftmark. You need permission for that," Rhaenyra said.


    "All right, I''ll obey," Rhaegar feigned obedience like a mischievous child.


    Rhaenyra pinched his chin and nipped his cheek, a warning in her actions. "You better not forget!"


    Her brother was a wild one, unparalleled in his boldness. Left unchecked, she feared he might challenge the gods themselves.


    As their conversation ended, the room fell into darkness. Rhaenyra and Rhaegar sat on opposite sides of the bed, their backs to each other, a heavy silence enveloping the room.


    In a haze, Rhaegar drifted off to sleep.


    In his dream, he flew atop Cannibal, traversing the continent and leaving a trail of legendary exploits in his wake.


    Returning to Dragonstone after a triumphant journey, the ominous dragon roars echoed from the ind and jolted Rhaegar awake.


    In an instant, two adult dragons emerged from Dragonmont and attacked Cannibal from either side.


    With amand, Rhaegar urged Cannibal into battle, narrowly avoiding the onught of the massive dragons.


    At the edge of safety, nestled against the cliffs of Dragonstone, Rhaegar believed they had escaped.


    But from the shadows, an unseen behemoth lunged forward, unleashing a torrent of scarlet dragon mes that sent Rhaegar tumbling from Cannibal''s back.


    The other two dragons rejoined the fray.


    Cornered and badly wounded, Rhaegar could only watch helplessly as Cannibal was torn apart by the attack of the three dragons, his once majestic form reduced to mere fragments.


    In the aftermath, only the lifeless head of Cannibal remained, its emerald eyes gazing back at him reluctantly.

 Chapter 66: Dance of the Dragons

    Chapter 66: Dance of the Dragons


    As expected, Rhaegar was awakened from his sleep by a familiar nightmare.


    Unlike before, he did not wake with a scream, but opened his eyes with a nk stare.


    "Dragons surrounded me, and the Cannibal..." His murmur faded, lost in the remnants of his dream.


    As a dreamer, the vivid images lingered, refusing to leave his mind.


    "Hmm...hmm..." A soft moan broke the silence, reaching Rhaegar''s ears from beside him.


    Turning his gaze to the source, Rhaegar found Rhaenyra, the only other upant of the room, in the throes of difort.


    The distraught Rhaenyra was oblivious to his gaze, her moans revealing that she was in severe pain.


    "What is it, sister?" Rhaegar''s concern spurred him to action as he approached her side to assess her condition.


    Bathed in the moonlight, Rhaegar saw Rhaenyra''s face contorted with pain.Her once beautiful features were now pale, her eyebrows furrowed, and beads of cold sweat adorned her forehead.


    Rhaegar had read several volumes of Herbology, so he could tell immediately that Rhaenyra was unwell.


    "Rhaenyra, do you have a fever?" he asked, gently pressing his palm to her forehead to check her temperature.


    "Handmaiden, quickly! My sister needs help!" Rhaegar hurriedly summoned Rhaenyra''s handmaiden, who promptly entered the room and lit a candle to examine Rhaenyra''s condition.


    "The princess''s fever is rmingly high. I will fetch the Maester," the handmaiden eximed, her concern evident as she hurried to seek medical assistance.


    The Maester arrived quickly and took Rhaenyra''s temperature before hurrying off to prepare some remedies.


    In the midst of her difort, Rhaenyra stirred from her slumber, her eyes opening in pain.


    Rhaegar, watching her distress, tried to soothe her forehead with a damp cloth, but Rhaenyra turned her head away, unable to bear the sensation.


    With trembling lips, Rhaenyra struggled tomunicate, her throat sore and inmed.


    Leaning closer, Rhaegar strained to hear her words. "What is it?" he asked anxiously.


    "It hurts... my stomach..." Rhaenyra managed to whisper, tears welling in her eyes as she clutched her stomach in pain.


    Perplexed by his sister''s illness, Rhaegar was concerned.


    "Hang on, the Maester will be here soon," he reassured her, warming his hand and applying gentle pressure to her belly under the nkets, hoping to provide some relief.


    As Rhaegar reached for the basin of water, a shiver ran through him, the unexpected coldness startled him and Rhaenyra alike.


    "Your Grace, the Maester has arrived," the maid announced, returning promptly with the elderly healer, who entered the room dressed in his customary robes and carrying a medicine bag.


    After assessing Rhaenyra''s symptoms, the Maester offered his diagnosis. "It seems to be a case of chills brought on by exposure to the rain. Drink some ginger tea and make sure you stay warm."


    With efficient haste, the handmaiden set about preparing the ginger tea while Rhaegar provided Rhaenyra with a basin of hot water to ease her aches and pains.


    Suddenly, a resounding boom echoed from outside the castle walls, interrupting their attentions.


    Rhaegar''s grip on the basin slipped as a dark thought crossed his mind.


    Handing the basin to the maid, Rhaegar strode to the window and peered out at themotion outside the castle.


    Though the rain had stopped, his attention was drawn to a fire at the edge of the castle where the city wall once stood.


    A section of the wally in ruins, engulfed in mes and billowing smoke, while a smaller dragon hovered above, roaring furiously.


    "It''s not Cannibal," Rhaegar muttered, furrowing his brow in confusion at the unexpected attack.


    A resounding roar pierced the night, followed by a torrent of golden mes that fell from the sky and rained down on the cliffs outside the castle.


    Rhaegar''s heart quickened as he realized it was the cliff where Cannibal had taken shelter.


    Before he could fullyprehend the situation, a deafening noise echoed through the castle, rousing everyone from their sleep.


    Lord Robert emerged from his chambers in disarray, hastily organizing the guards to ensure the King''s safety within the main castle.


    Meanwhile, Rhaegar''s focus remained on themotion at the edge of the castle.


    Amid the chaos, a familiar sound reached his ears - the ominous roar of the Cannibal, the ck dragon, as it emerged from the t ground beneath the cliffs, its gaze fixed on its attackers.


    In response to the Cannibal''s appearance, two colossal dragons emerged from the darkness of the night sky, illuminated by the mes engulfing the castle.


    Their shapes became clearer in the flickering light.


    One was a gigantic dragon with bronze scales and brown wing membranes, while the other, slightly smaller, had dark green scales and silver wing membranes.


    Though unfamiliar to Rhaegar''s eyes, their identities were unmistakable, thanks to his extensive knowledge of Targaryen dragon lore.


    They were Vermithor, known as Bronze Fury, and his mate, Silverwing-two dragons once under the care of Rhaegar''s great-grandfather, King Jaehaerys Targaryen, and his queen.


    Since the death of the revered monarchs nearly two decades earlier, these magnificent creatures had made their home on the ind of Dragonstone, free from themand of any master.


    At the sight of the two adult dragons, Rhaegar''s breath caught in his throat, and a chill of realization ran through him. "Damn, it''s like the nightmare hase to life," he murmured, his words drowned out by the rumbling noise.


    The cacophony inside the castle was deafening enough, but the sight of the three mighty dragons against the backdrop of the sky was a terrifying spectacle in itself.


    As Vermithor and Silverwing attacked Cannibal from opposite sides, unleashing torrents of dragon mes, the air crackled with their sh.


    Cannibal refused to give in to the onught, dodging their attacks with deft maneuvers while his own emerald mes illuminated the darkness, casting an eerie glow over thendscape.


    The battle escted, and the three dragons went from spitting mes to melee, their forms intertwining in a fierce dance.


    Even from a distance, Rhaegar could sense the Cannibal''s fury.


    "Hang on, I''ming to help," Rhaegar said, looking away from the window with determination.


    As he made his way across the room, Rhaenyra''s faint voice reached his ears.


    "Rhaegar, what''s happening?"


    Trying tofort her, Rhaegar replied softly, "The Cannibal was upset about something, I want to calm him down."


    Rhaenyra struggled to keep her eyes open as shey on the bed, her voice strained with urgency. "Do not deceive me. I heard the sound of dragons fighting."


    "It''s nothing serious, I''ll go calm Cannibal and return shortly," Rhaegar assured her, wiping the sweat from her brow as he spoke.


    Unexpectedly, Rhaenyra grabbed his wrist, her voice shaking. "Please don''t go. Dragon battles are dangerous, and you''re too young."


    "I am no longer a child; I am a Dragon Rider now," Rhaegar countered firmly, pulling his hand from her grasp. "My bond with the Dragon obliges me to fight by its side."


    "You mean more to me than any dragon," Rhaenyra protested weakly, her reluctance obvious.


    Rhaegar met her gaze with unflinching determination. "The dragon is as important to me as I am to myself."


    With a kiss on her forehead, Rhaegar turned to leave. He was bound to Cannibal as her knight, and he could not ignore the danger. To retreat would betray their bond and abandon him.


    The noise of the dragon battle echoed throughout the castle, rousing everyone from their slumber.


    Viserys rose early as well, dressing hastily and retiring to his chambers under the watchful eye of his guards. The corridors were swarming with guards, their tense demeanor reflecting the gravity of the situation.


    The sight of three dragons engaged in battle on the outskirts of the castle would unsettle even the bravest of souls.


    Eager to aid Cannibal, Rhaegar evaded the guards and slipped out of the castle through a side staircase.


    In the distance, the aerial skirmish raged on as Cannibal battled the coordinated attack of Vermithor and Silverwing.


    Cannibal was at a disadvantage from the start, pinned down by the synchronized attacks of his opponents.


    The coordination between Vermithor and Silverwing, honed over years of partnership, left Cannibal with little room to react.


    Theirbined assault, golden and orange mes intertwined in a deadly dance, left Cannibal no choice but to endure the attack, his massive body unable to dodge each st.


    Vermithor and Silverwing maintained their dominance of the skies, their coordinated attacks forcing Cannibal to retreat.


    Despite his size, Cannibal''s retaliation with his green dragon me had remarkable power and range, serving as his only means of counterattack.

 Chapter 67: One Against Two

    Chapter 67: One Against Two


    "Roar......"


    As Rhaegar burst from the castle, the thunderous roar of the two dragons reverberated through the air, signaling themencement of a fierce battle against the Cannibal.


    As a seasoned wild dragon, the Cannibal wielded formidablebat prowess honed through countless battles.


    It deftly parried the onught of the two dragons, denying them any opportunity to exploit its vulnerabilities.


    With its colossal size, the Cannibal exuded an aura of fearlessness, confronting its adversaries with confidence in its ability to emerge victorious.


    Yet, faced with the simultaneous assault of both dragons, the Cannibal found itself overwhelmed, its disadvantage starkly apparent.


    It unleashed a barrage of dragon mes, retaliating against its foes with relentless fury.


    Meanwhile, one dragon soared aloft, raining down streams of mes, while the other descended upon the Cannibal with ferocity, determined to kill it at any cost.


    Despite its efforts, the Cannibal began to falter under the relentless assault, a grievous wound searing its wing as it plummeted uncontrobly towards the earth below.With a deafening crash, the Cannibal''s descent shattered the city wall, sending stones and debris hurtling into the sky amidst clouds of smoke.


    "Cannibal, hold fast!"


    Amidst the choking dust, Rhaegar raced to the fallen dragon''s side.


    "Roar......"


    The Cannibal''s massive body twisted as it strained to see Rhaegar standing before it.


    A sh of vignce flickered in its green vertical pupil as it assessed the situation.


    In response, Rhaegar extended his palm, the familiar gestureforting it, and spoke in High Valyrian, "Cannibal, I stand with you!"


    The tension in the Cannibal''s eyes gradually softened as it locked gazes with its master, reassured by the confidence he exuded.


    With a heavy snort, it raised its neck, unfurling one wing protectively over Rhaegar.


    "Very well, let''s fight together," Rhaegar dered with determination.


    Stepping onto the outstretched wing, he made his way down to the dragon''s spine.


    With Rhaegar securely in ce, the Cannibal shook off the debris clinging to its body and braced its wings against the ground.


    At Rhaegar''smand to "Fly", it unfurled its wings and ascended into the sky.


    "Roar......"


    As the ck dragon rose to its feet, the two wild dragons circling above showed their fangs in a feral disy of aggression,unching a fresh assault.


    Rhaegar, perched atop the Cannibal''s back, observed the dragons with a keen eye, issuing instructions to hispanion, "Follow my lead, Cannibal!"


    Aware of their recent bond, Rhaegar sought to establish trust and coordination in the middle of the battle.


    Responding with a low roar, the Cannibal unleashed a burst of green dragonme, a sign of acknowledgment and readiness.


    Boom-


    As the Cannibal soared into the air, a burst of orange dragon me descended, aimed straight at its head.


    With remarkable agility, the Cannibal twisted sideways, narrowly evading the mes.


    The sudden maneuver caused Rhaegar to sway, but he quickly regained his bnce.


    "Cannibal, focus your attack on the dark green dragon, Silverwing. We must take one down quickly," Rhaegarmanded, pointing decisively at the target.


    He had noted the distinct tactics employed by Vermithor and Silverwing in their aerial assault.


    Vermithor, the Bronze Fury, relied on its sheer size and unleashed dragonfire from above, aiming to restrict the Cannibal''s movements.


    Meanwhile, Silverwing, despite its smaller stature, engaged in a frantic and relentless skirmish, disying an uncharacteristic fervor in its attacks.


    This deviation from their usual behavior puzzled Rhaegar, but he pushed aside his thoughts, focusing instead on the immediate task at hand: neutralizing the threat posed by the two dragons.


    The prospect of allowing all three dragons to continue their battle was unthinkable, as it would undoubtedly result in catastrophic destruction for Dragonstone Ind.


    Responding to Rhaegar''smand, the Cannibal surged upward, its massive wings propelling it towards Silverwing, while conjuring a st of dragonfire.


    Silverwing, agile and nimble, deftly dodged the fiery assault, evading the Cannibal''s attack.


    Meanwhile, above them, Vermithor unleashed another torrent of golden dragon me, targeting the Cannibal once more.


    Rhaegar monitored Vermithor''s movements, issuingmands to evade the attack.


    The Cannibal, in the midst of attacking Silverwing, abruptly altered its flight path, narrowly evading the oing golden dragon mes.


    The heat scorched the air, burning Rhaegar''s hair and sending a wave of panic through him. Swiftly, he extinguished the fire, sparing himself from a potentially embarrassing predicament.


    "Cannibal, trust me. I am your eyes in the sky," Rhaegar reassured, his tone firm despite the tension from their close call.


    Rhaegar''s focus sharpened as he contemted the crucial bond between dragon and rider. The Cannibal''s split-second decision to dodge the attack the importance of their cooperation.


    Had the Cannibal hesitated, Rhaegar would have borne the full brunt of Vermithor''s dragon me�� even with Blood and Fire he would probably die.


    As they resumed their pursuit of Silverwing, the Cannibal acknowledged Rhaegar''s guidance with a roar.


    Cannibal surged forward, its target clear: Silverwing, the green dragon who had dared to challenge it.


    Meanwhile, Silverwing, undeterred by the Cannibal''s advance, met its adversary head-on, wings outstretched in defiance. Its goat was to stall the ck dragon long enough for its ally to join the fight.


    Fuelled by a primal fury, the Cannibal roared in response, its ferocity unleashed as it lunged at Silverwing with lethal intent. In a sh of titans, the two dragons collided, their immense forms entwined in a frenzied dance of ws, teeth, and wingbeats.


    Rhaegar clung to the back of the Cannibal, his grip tight as he crouched low to avoid any idental injury.


    His gaze remained fixed on Vermithor, vignt against the berserk dragon''s unpredictable movements.


    At the slightest hint of danger, Rhaegar would swiftly issuemands, guiding the Cannibal to evade the imminent pincer attack from the two dragons.


    As Vermithor unleashed a deafening roar and dove towards them, Rhaegar''s heart raced. "Cannibal, Dracarys!" hemanded urgently, bracing for the impending sh.


    The Cannibal, sensing the threat, obeyed without hesitation, spewing a torrent of dragon me backwards, aimed directly at the descending Vermithor.


    With a deafening boom, the two majestic mes collided in a dazzling disy, engulfing the sky in smoke. In the ensuing chaos, it was Cannibal''s emerald me that emerged victorious, piercing through Vermithor''s golden fire to strike the dragon''s body.


    Stunned by the assault, Vermithor faltered mid-flight, his massive form momentarily frozen.


    Seizing the fleeting opportunity, Rhaegar''s eyes gleamed with determination. "Now''s our chance! Vermithor''s vulnerable��target Silverwing!" hemanded.


    Without hesitation, he issued the order to strike. "Cannibal, Dracarys!"


    In the heat of battle, the Cannibal and Silverwing shed furiously, their instincts driving them to w and tear at each other. Sensing an opening, the Cannibal deftly evaded Silverwing''s snapping jaws, then unleashed emerald dragon mes.


    The resounding boom echoed through the air as the dragon me found its mark, striking Silverwing''s head with force. The silver dragon let out a scream, wings iling in panic.


    Cannibal pressed its advantage, lunging forward to sink its teeth into Silverwing''s thrashing neck, its fangs gleaming with icy resolve.


    With a sickening sound, the Cannibal''s jaws closed around Silverwing''s flesh, drawing forth a gush of crimson blood.


    "Roar..."


    The anguished cry of its mate spurred Vermithor back to action, snapping him out of his momentary stupor. With a roar of fury, the bronze dragonunched himself towards Cannibal once more, intent on avenging hispanion.


    "Cannibal, fall back!" Rhaegar''s voice rang out, amand urgently. He knew that once Vermithor attacked, there would be no second chances, dragon fire could only work once.


    Yet, driven by the scent of blood and the heat of battle, the Cannibal seemed deaf to his master''s plea. Ignoring the retreat order, it continued its relentless assault, jaws snapping shut with lethal intent, determined to deliver the final blow to Silverwing.

 Chapter 68: Greatness or Madness?

    Chapter 68: Greatness or Madness?


    "Roar..."


    In the throes of battle, Silverwing drove its sharp ws into the Cannibal''s abdomen, unleashing a furious torrent of dragon me.


    But with its neck mped tightly in the Cannibal''s jaws, the aim of the me was erratic, dispersing into the sky.


    Enraged by the blow, the Cannibal let out a primal roar, its grip loosening instinctively.


    In that split second, Vermithor swooped in, his golden dragon me zing like a fierynce, striking the Cannibal''s head with devastating force, tearing into its scales.


    The impact sent the Cannibal reeling, dazed and disoriented. Its wings faltered, unable to maintain flight, and it was sent tumbling through the air by Silverwing''s desperate counterattack.


    Forced apart, Silverwing, with blood streaming from its neck, staggered backward, struggling to maintain bnce.


    Meanwhile, Vermithor, with a low, rumbling growl, turned his attention to the falling Cannibal, his intent clear.


    Rhaegar felt a pang of pity for the Cannibal. Despite his instructions to obeymands, its primal instincts had overridden reason, leading to this situation.As the Cannibal plummeted, Rhaegar gripped its back scales tightly, fighting against the sensation of weightlessness.


    "Cannibal, snap out of it!" he shouted, desperately trying to awake the dragon before impact.


    If the Cannibal did not awaken in time, the crash to the ground would spell Rhaegar''s demise.


    "Roar..."


    Finally, Cannibal shook off its dizziness and spread its wings wide, stopping its descent with a powerful stroke.


    As a wild dragon, its rugged constitution proved its greatest asset. A mere blow to the head couldn''t defeat it.


    Regaining control just before crashing to the ground, Cannibal adjusted its trajectory, gliding upward against the steep cliffside.


    Observing the dragon''s injuries, Rhaegar grimaced. The Cannibal bore wounds on its neck, wings, and abdomen, each a testament to the ferocity of the battle. Blood seeped from gaping holes, revealing the pulsing internal organs beneath.


    Realization dawned on Rhaegar; the battle could not keep going. Silverwing and Cannibal were bloodied and battered, but Vermithor remained unscathed.


    If Cannibal continues fighting Vermithor, even if he wins, the consequences could be disastrous.


    Unable to bear the thought, Rhaegar issued amand.


    "Cannibal, head for the sea."


    With a nce back at the approaching Vermithor, Rhaegarmanded Cannibal to retreat. As long as they withdrew, the battle would end.


    "Roar..."


    Vermithor pursued, his golden dragon me slicing through the darkness.


    Sensing the threat, Cannibal''s ferocity gave way to rationality.


    Obeying Rhaegar''smand, it unfurled its wings and soared over the cliff, aiming for the beach below.


    Rhaegar maintained a vignt gaze behind him.


    Silverwing, incapacitated by its injuries,y sprawled on the ground, emitting feeble roars as it attempted to rise and fall.


    "Silverwing is out of the fight, so there''s a chance to escape," Rhaegar breathed a sigh of relief.


    As Vermithor closed in, Rhaegar steered Cannibal to evade, periodically turning to unleash emerald dragon mes in resistance.


    Cannibal''s dragon me proved formidable, overpowering Vermithor''s attempts to close the distance.


    In the blink of an eye, Cannibal soared over the beach, the sea within reach.


    Suddenly, Rhaegar''s eyes caught sight of the cliffs lining the shore.


    A of realization struck, and a sense of dread surged within him.


    Recollections of his nightmares flooded his mind��the dragon emerging from the cliffside.


    With a gut-wrenching feeling, Rhaegar instinctively cried out, "Dracarys!!!"


    Bonded through their recent fight, Cannibal responded to Rhaegar''s call, swiftly turning and unleashing a torrent of dragon me toward the cliff below.


    Boom��


    Instantly, another scarlet fire erupted from beneath the cliff, colliding head-on with Cannibal''s emerald mes.


    The scarlet dragon me dissipated in the face of Cannibal''s assault.


    The collision unleashed a shockwave, buffeting Cannibal''s form.


    Swiftly adjusting its wings, Cannibal surged forward, fleeing Dragonstone Ind without a backward nce.


    Rhaegar maintained hisposure on Cannibal''s back, though the gusts threatened to disorient him.


    Lying down, he squinted back at the cliffs, his gaze piercing.


    "Who... orchestrated this ambush?"


    Rhaegar fixated on the crags, searching for any sign of the hiding dragon.


    He was certain that tonight''s dragon encounter was no happenstance��it was orchestrated.


    Unfortunately, the moss-covered cliffs revealed nothing.


    "I''ll find you, whoever you are!"


    With thoughts of Silverwing on Dragonstone Ind and Vermithor in pursuit, Rhaegar gritted his teeth and urged for a swift departure.


    This plot targeted him directly.


    Remaining on Dragonstone Ind endangered not only himself but also his family within the castle walls.


    Leaving swiftly was the only prudent choice.


    Bolting away with remarkable speed, Cannibal outpaced the sluggish Vermithor.


    After a brief chase, Cannibal put considerable distance between them.


    Cannibal melted into the darkness night, disappearing from sight.


    ...


    On Dragonstone Ind, a figure cloaked in ck lingered in the shadows of the beach, peering into the darkness where the dragon had vanished.


    "Blocked! Was it chance or foresight?" the cloaked figure muttered, withdrawing a gold coin from his pocket.


    "When a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin. One side greatness, the other madness."


    "Which are you?"


    His voice, deep andden with skepticism, echoed softly on the night breeze.


    He tossed the gold coin high into the air, catching it effortlessly as it descended.


    With a slow reveal, he disyed the coin, its gleaming surface reflecting the moonlight.


    As he stared at the coin, a contemtive silence enveloped him.


    Several more times, he angrily hurled the coin into the sea before departing, his departure as silent.


    ...


    In the castle, Viserys stood before a towering window, his gaze burning with fury as he surveyed the ruins of the city walls.


    Fresh news had just reached him.


    Rhaegar had slipped away amidst the chaos of the dragon''s fight, joining his own dragon.


    The memory of the sh of dragons sent shivers down Viserys'' spine, fearing the potential consequences of his eldest son''s actions.


    Fortunately, the ck dragon had managed to outmaneuver Silverwing and escape, with Vermithor hot on its trail.


    As long as Rhaegar was with the dragon, he was safe, for the moment.


    "Have you gleaned any information from those guards who delivered the false message?" Viserys inquired sharply, turning to Lyonel, his Hand, who stood beside him.


    Lyonel shook his head, his expression troubled. "No, Your Majesty. The guards are unyielding, and the dragonkeepers messenger vanished without a trace."


    "Continue the investigation," Viserysmanded, his voice taut with frustration. "No secret remains buried forever."


    Turning his attention to the recent dragon attack, Lyonel offered his insight. "ording to the tower guards, Vermithor and Silverwingunched the attack on the Cannibal immediately upon encountering it."


    Viserys'' brow furrowed in contemtion. "The Cannibal''s reputation precedes it. Its natural that stealing dragon eggs and hunting young dragons would undoubtedly provoke Silverwing''s ire."


    "Search every corner of the castle!" Viserys ordered, his fists clenched with determination. "This is an affront to the crown, and those responsible will face justice!"

 Chapter 69: Crackclaw Point

    Chapter 69: Crackw Point


    Rhaegar and Cannibal were flying high above the Narrow Sea, soaring through the night sky.


    Cannibal had a deep wound on his belly, and blood was trailing behind him and mixing with the sea below.


    Despite the rush of the flight, Rhaegar''s thoughts kept returning to the recent attack. He gently patted Cannibal''s scales, wondering, "Why did those two dragonse after you?"


    He thought there might have been foul y, but he was curious about how Vermithor and Silverwing had been enticed into the scheme.


    Cannibal growled softly, expressing his displeasure.


    Rhaegar understood the message.


    Someone had tempted Cannibal with a feast of cattle and sheep, even tossing a dragon egg his way, under the cover of the night.


    As a wild dragon with a taste for dragon eggs, Cannibal couldn''t resist the offer, especially after failing his hunt for the young dragon.


    Rhaegar sighed and guessed that Cannibal must have orchestrated something remarkable to lure Vermithor and Silverwing into attacking it."No more stealing in Dragonstone��dragon eggs and young dragons are off-limits!" Rhaegar said firmly.


    Cannibal responded with a loud roar.


    Despite his injuries, Cannibal remained defiant, letting out a low roar to express his reluctance.


    Rhaegar tried to reason with him, discussing the need to stop focusing on dragon eggs and young dragons.


    Cannibal was a straightforward creature, so he was nomittal about stealing dragon eggs.


    "Is the territory of Dragonstone Ind too small? Are you worried that if you stop eating dragon eggs and smaller dragons, they''ll take your ce on the ind?" Rhaegar guessed again.


    Rhaegar got the message. "Don''t worry, Dragonstone Ind can''t take in too many dragons. I''ll make arrangements for the new generation."


    "And as for you, my friend," Rhaegar continued, "no more stealing. I''ll ensure there''s plenty of livestock for you."


    Offering a solution to Cannibal''s concerns, Rhaegar hoped to findmon ground. Cannibal remained silent, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.


    Rhaegar understood that territorial disputes were difficult to solve, so he let the matter rest.


    Expanding thend avable for dragons would naturally change Cannibal''s behavior.


    As Cannibal flew farther away, Rhaegar grew unsure of their destination, likely somewhere near the Narrow Sea. Cannibal''s flight slowed and his breathing becamebored, indicating severe injuries.


    "You''re hurt badly. We need to find a ce tond," Rhaegar urged.


    Noting Cannibal''s wounds, Rhaegar''s concern grew.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal''s response was weaker than before.


    At dawn, Rhaegar, exhausted, spottednd ahead, with lush forests and mountains graduallying into view.


    "Quick, we''ve foundnd, Cannibal!" Rhaegar eximed.


    Without a word, Cannibal adjusted their course downward. He knew exactly where tond; as a wild dragon, he was familiar with suitable resting ces.


    From sea tond, Rhaegar experienced a new kind of journey, and now he''s traveling without a clear n.


    Cannibal navigated through the terrain and eventuallynded in a valley rich with forests and rivers.


    Uponnding, Cannibal''s injuries took their toll, and he copsed heavily onto the ground, leaving a deep impression in the earth.


    Rhaegar hadn''t slept all night and was exhausted. He failed to hold on as Cannibalnded, tumbling off the dragon''s back and passing out when he hit the ground.


    For a brief moment, both human and dragon were displeased by the roughnding.


    Yet, despite his injuries, Cannibal managed to rise, blood still flowing from his wounds.


    He paused for a moment when he saw Rhaegar unconscious, but then gently adjusted his position to make sure he was safe.


    Luckily, Rhaegar hadnded on soft grass and wasn''t hurt, just tired.


    With no immediate threats and plenty of caves for shelter, Cannibal carried Rhaegar to one with a good vantage point, ensuring his safety before venturing out to find healing herbs.


    He knew his rider wouldn''t withstand the harsh terrain, so he opted for hiding, confident in returning quickly. Before departing, he marked the area with his dung to deter other creatures.


    Satisfied, he took off into the sky once more, leaving Rhaegar sheltered and secure in the cave.


    ...


    As the sun reached its peak, warmth flooded the forested valley.


    Inside the cave, Rhaegar stirred, eyelids flickering as if awakening.


    Outside, voices echoed through the valley.


    "Look, a massive bloodstain! Wonder what creature left it?"


    "Tormund, watch out. This valley feels off."


    Silence followed the cautious exchange.


    Amidst the murmurs, Rhaegar slowly blinked awake, scanning his surroundings in confusion.


    "Where am I? Where''s Cannibal?" he wondered aloud, puzzled by the cobweb-covered cave.


    Recollections of their arrival at a hidden valley shed through his mind, followed by a nk.


    "Someone lured me into a trap... a dragon ambush..." Rhaegar suddenly realized.


    But who could have breached the security of Dragonstone Ind to orchestrate such a scheme?


    Only one name emerged as Rhaegar''s thoughts raced - the only one with the means and motive.


    "When I return, you won''t escape," Rhaegar vowed silently, fists clenched in determination.


    ...


    "Hey, Sister,e take a look! There are fresh tracks outside this cave!" A child''s voice called out excitedly from beyond the cave.


    Rhaegar''s senses sharpened as he heard the approaching footsteps.


    He quickly rose from his spot, silently retrieving a dagger from his storage bracelet and preparing for whatever awaited outside.


    The sounds drew nearer, causing Rhaegar''s grip on the dagger to tighten.


    As a child and alone in an unfamiliar ce without Cannibal by his side, he knew he couldn''t afford to take any risks.


    "Who''s in there? Show yourself!" A young girl''s voice demanded from outside.


    Rhaegar quickly assessed the situation. Based on the voices, there were likely three individuals outside��two boys and the girl one of them called sister.


    Rhaegar blinked. He felt a wave of relief wash over him as he sensed the small threat.


    He was confident in his noble birth and harmless look. He doubted anyone would dare harm him, unless they were truly foolish savages.


    The thought of encountering a noble hunting party brought a glimmer of hope to him. Perhaps he''d be weed with a grand celebration and treated to fine food and drink.


    At the very least, he was hoping for a safe escort back to King''s Landing.

 Chapter 70: Free Folk

    Chapter 70: Free Folk


    "Okay, I''ming out!" Rhaegar decided to be honest after thinking it over.


    With a sigh of relief, he stowed the dagger back in his bracelet and emerged from the cave, hands raised in surrender.


    As soon as he stepped out into the open, Rhaegar saw a bow aimed at him. He instinctively took a half-step back.


    "A child?" The archer, a young girl in a leather skirt and cloak, looked at Rhaegar with a hint of suspicion.


    Rhaegar''s heart sank when he saw her attire. It was clear that she came from a different world than he did.


    The girl kept her weapon ready but approached carefully, asking, "Is anyone else in there? Come out now!"


    Rhaegar stood frozen in ce as he said, "There''s no need to shout. I''m alone."


    "Nonsense! How could a child like you navigate the swampy jungle?" The girl scoffed and looked him over closely.


    At that moment, Rhaegar realized she was judging him by his clothes, assuming he was the son of a noble.Rhaegar was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Are... you from the free folk?"


    He chose his words carefully, trying to avoid using the term "savage." The Maester called the free folk "savages," which was a term for people who were seen as disobedient and uncouth.


    The girl in the leather skirt didn''t look at him, her attention focused on the cave entrance.


    Behind her, two boys came out, dressed in animal skins and carrying bone axes and shovels.


    One of them grabbed Rhaegar pretty firmly, which made him ufortable. "Easy there, no need to be rough," he said, but they didn''t listen.


    One of the boys, about ten years old, seemed a bit on the frail side, while the other, taller and stronger, had a darkerplexion.


    They didn''t pay any attention to Rhaegar,pletely focused on watching the girl in the leather skirt.


    As it turned out, Rhaegar was right. The girl walked to the front of the cave and shot an arrow that whizzed past her and embedded itself in the rocky wall.


    When she scanned the empty cave, there was no sign of anyone hiding, not even a mouse.


    The tension eased, and the girl in the leather skirt took a deep breath of relief as she got her bow and signaled her brother to bring Rhaegar inside.


    The skinny boy tied Rhaegar with twine and put him in a dusty corner, prompting Rhaegar to squirm away from the cobwebs in disgust.


    The girl approached him and grabbed his chin, her tone a bit intimidating. "Who are you? What house do you belong to? And where is your lord?"


    Rhaegar winced at the pinch, but met her gaze defiantly.


    The girl tightened her grip, her threats clear.


    But as they locked eyes, Rhaegar found himself feeling braver.


    He looked at the girl��her brown curls, high nose, and confident demeanor��but none of it mattered to him.


    What caught his attention were her wheat-colored skin and the blood blisters on her knuckles.


    Rhaegar''s eyes lit up as he spoke, "You''re not one of the free folk, are you?"


    The young girl''s demeanor shifted slightly, her tone bing somewhat colder. "I''m the one asking questions here. Get to the point."


    "This is your brother. Neither of you are from the free folk."


    The change in the girl''s attitude confirmed Rhaegar''s suspicions.


    Rhaegar met her skeptical gaze and continued, "A child raised in the wild wouldn''t have such smooth skin, let alone a frail one like your brother."


    Rhaegar looked the skinny child over carefully and noticed something was wrong. A skinny kid with poor health doesn''t match the image of a child raised in the wild.


    The girl''s expression turned sour as she let go of Rhaegar''s chin and spoke in an indifferent tone. "So what? Clever words won''t save you."


    "Tell me where you''re from, or I''ll have to take further action."


    "No, please! I''m only six years old. You can''t hurt a child," Rhaegar said, suggesting, "Untie me, let''s talk. Maybe I can help."


    Insisting, he added, ��I know some skilled healers who can help your brother.��


    "He''s not sick!" The girl shot back, prompting Rhaegar to doubt her. "His pale face suggests otherwise," he countered.


    "That''s enough!" If you don''t stop, I''ll have to take action! The girl threatened, raising her fist.


    Rhaegar sighed and decided to be honest. He didn''t want to go through any more pain.


    Given Rhaegar''s frail appearance, the young girl hesitated before deciding to untie his grass rope.


    "He might be a noble child..." the skinny boy murmured. "Nonsense! Look at his clothes; he''s definitely from a noble family," the stout boy interjected.


    Silenced, the skinny boy retreated resentfully, crouching to the side.


    The young girl shot a stern look at the stout boy. "Teson, go fetch Uncle Falcon and the others. Tormund and I will question him," Tormund said.


    "But..." Teson hesitated, but met with the girl''s determined gaze, he reluctantly scurried out of the cave.


    With one less person around, the young girl''s demeanor softened, and she introduced herself, "I''m Skr, and this is my brother Tormund. We''re from the Hawk tribe."


    "What''s yourst name?" Rhaegar asked.


    "We don''t have one. We''re bastards, hated by men and dogs alike," Skr replied, clearly upset about her origins.


    Rhaegar was taken aback by her frankness. He considered the possibility of such a child being epted in hermunity.


    Skr continued, ��Who are you? Why are you the only one in the cave? And what''s with all the blood and dung outside?"


    Rhaegar was reluctant to reveal his true identity. If he told a reasonable person who he was, they might try to hold him to ransom. He wasn''t sure what Skr''s intentions were, given her dislike of her own birth.


    Sensing his unease, Skr reassured him, "Don''t worry, we won''t hurt you. Our tribe takes care of children and women."


    Relieved, Rhaegar introduced himself, "I''m Rhaegar, son of King Viserys Targaryen. I was traveling the continent riding my dragon."


    Although there was some truth to it, Rhaegar was trying to show his origins and give the siblings a heads-up.


    "Targaryen! So, you''re a prince?" Skr was quick to respond, while Tormund was eager to know, "Where''s your dragon?"


    Rhaegar remained calm and insisted, "Let''s take it one step at a time. Yes, I am a prince. My silver hair and purple eyes are symbols of the Targaryen House."


    Rhaegar was hoping the siblings wouldn''t act rashly, to make sure he was safe.


    Before him stood the siblings, their expressions a mix of anxiety and anticipation. They were still enjoying the consequences of their audacious feat. Capturing a Targaryen was definitely an unexpected turn of events for them.

 Chapter 71: Negotiation

    Chapter 71: Negotiation


    As the sun started to set, Rhaegar had a long chat with the siblings, picking up some useful tips.


    He found out they were on Crackw Point, a sparsely popted area known for its swamps and forests, which borders Dragonstone and Driftmark Inds.


    Once they got to the cave, they gathered around a fire that was flickering. Tormund was really keen to know more about Rhaegar''s dragon, asking lots of questions about its size and abilities.


    "The Cannibal is enormous, I''m like a flea on its back," Rhaegar replied casually, nibbling on a wild fruit.


    He understood the power of perception; what he said shaped their beliefs. Even though he didn''t know the Cannibal''s whereabouts, the mere mention of a dragon nearby ensured his safety.


    While Skr tended to the fire, he casually mentioned the bloodstain in the valley, connecting it to Rhaegar''s dragon.


    Rhaegar remained calm and collected. "We were attacked by other dragons on the Narrow Sea, so I ended up stranded here."


    "Other dragons?" Tormund gasped in surprise.


    Rhaegar borated, "Dragonstone Ind was once home to many dragons. My ancestors used them to conquer Westeros."Skr interjected, contradicting him. "Nonsense. Only three dragons were known in the War of Conquest."


    Impressed, Rhaegar replied, "You know your history?"


    "Hmph. I��ve read books on the subject. I''m not an idiot," Skr shot back.


    Rhaegar chuckled and decided not to argue. It was good to know that she valued knowledge and understood the importance of a prince.


    A piercing eagle cry echoed from outside the valley.


    Skr and Tormund quickly got up and went outside.


    "Is it your tribe?" Rhaegar asked, feeling a bit uneasy.


    He tried to get the Cannibal''s attention through their bond, but there was no response.


    Rhaegar figured the dragon was badly injured, so it had probably flown off to recover.


    Until the dragon''s return, fate depended on his own efforts.


    Rhaegar exited the cave and followed the siblings. He saw a crowd of people streaming into the valley with loud shouts. They were tall and burly, d in leather and armor, and they exuded a primal, savage aura.


    Their leader, a middle-aged man with a braided beard and sharp eyes, caught Rhaegar''s gaze with a steely stare. Rhaegar felt this and tried to stayposed.


    These people were not to be trifled with. He had stumbled into a savage''s den.


    Skr reassured him, "Don''t worry, Uncle Falcon is honorable and won''t harm children."


    After finishing his task, Falcon turned to them. "Is he the noble child you mentioned?"


    Skr nodded solemnly. "Yes, he is the child of a king, a Targaryen."


    "A prince?" Falcon eximed, clearly surprised by Rhaegar''s status.


    Though not a wildling, a prince''s status was still extraordinary.


    Rhaegar knew he had to speak up to answer Falcon''s question.


    "I''m Rhaegar Targaryen, born in the Red Keep in King''s Landing. Does that ring a bell?" he stated firmly.


    "A ce thousands of miles away. Why would I know?" Falcon replied, nonchnt.


    "I traveled the continent on a dragon and encountered trouble. If you help me, I''ll reward you handsomely," Rhaegar proposed, hoping to strike a deal.


    Falcon chuckled. "I can believe that. Your father is a king; a mountain of gold and silver must be at your disposal."


    Rhaegar''s eyes lit up. "So you''ll help me?"


    "No promises," Falcon tly refused.


    Surprised, Rhaegar offered gold and protection in return.


    But Falcon remained adamant. "The Hawk tribe doesn''t trust outsiders. It''s always been that way."


    Skr confirmed his words. "That''s our way."


    Rhaegar pressed on. "What are your conditions for helping me?"


    "Join our tribe. I''ll protect you," Falcon dered solemnly.


    Rhaegar burst intoughter.


    Sitting firmly, Rhaegar stared at Falcon and scoffed, "Do you really think a Targaryen prince would join a savage tribe? That''s the funniest thing I''ve heard."


    With that, Rhaegar realized that Falcon wasn''t going to help him. As a dragon rider, he knew he had power, as evidenced by the bloodstains in the valley. He doubted Falcon would dare touch him.


    Falcon, unfazed by Rhaegar''s words, smiled. "But didn''t youe seeking my help?"


    Rhaegar was momentarily speechless. It was true; he had sought assistance, though his dragons were his true strength. He needed to stall the savages and prevent any harm.


    Falcon, cutting a piece of hare, offered it to Rhaegar. "I spotted a wounded beast flying off to the Swamp of Despair. I''ll offer you protection until your dragon returns. But you must promise your dragon won''t harm my tribe and leave as soon as you can."


    Falcon wasn''t your average savage. He''d dealt with noble lords before, and he knew that the wounded beast in the valley was dangerous.


    The dung heap at the valley''s mouth told a story. Most of it was the dragon''s trail, left before it went to hunt.


    This kid had been the top threat from the start. The wild dragon could return at any moment.


    It would have been a bad idea to try to negotiate more with this kid while the dragon was around. Falcon could kill him and run away, but tribal tradition forbade harming children.


    It was better to leave him be and treat him well. When the dragon returned, the child could ride it to safety. If the child had a conscience, he might even repay the favor.


    Falcon''s perspective changed Rhaegar''s view of the wildlings. Maybe the Maesters were wrong about them being ruthless.


    "You''re indeed wise, and I promise to keep my dragons in check and leave peacefully," Rhaegar responded, epting the roast.


    "It''s not easy being a leader. I''ve got to look out for everyone," Falcon said, sharing the meat with the siblings.

 Chapter 72: Shadow Creature

    Chapter 72: Shadow Creature


    Negotiations brought relief, easing the wariness between the two sides.


    Rhaegar epted food and water from the savages and watched them dance around the campfire.


    Falcon and Skr''s sibling joined him by the fire, telling stories.


    Falcon, picking at rabbit bones, remarked, "You don''t seem old enough to be the king''s youngest son."


    "I''m actually the oldest," Rhaegar joked.


    "Traditionally, the oldest inherits. You could be the next king?" Falcon was surprised.


    "No, it''s my sister," Rhaegar replied inly.


    ��Why? Is she hiding a dick under her skirt?�� a brown savage teased, ignitingughter.


    Rhaegar nced at Falcon, who remained silent but visibly displeased.Falcon firmly told the teasing savage, "Xander, leave!"


    "Yeah, yeah, Xander, scram..." Xander brushed off the warning.


    Only when a hawknded nearby did Xander reluctantly leave, shivering and muttering about the tribe''s unrest.


    "The tribe has been unsettledtely, many warriors are restless," Falcon said before walking away.


    Rhaegar grinned, "He has a foul mouth, I wonder if his breath rivals dragon dung."


    Falcon, slightly irritated, paused, "I''ll take care of him and warn the others."


    He wasn''t irritated at Rhaegar''s threat, but at the tribe''s men for embarrassing him in front of guests.


    The night progressed.


    When his hunger was satisfied, Rhaegar returned to the cave where he had awakened to rest.


    Falcon provided soft animal skins and made sure the siblings apanied him.


    Arranging the skins as bedding, Rhaegar greeted the sleeping siblings and shared the remaining skins.


    "Thank you," Tormund murmured gratefully.


    "May I ask about the changes in the tribe?" Rhaegar inquired, jumping at the chance for information.


    Tormund hesitated, ncing at Skr.


    Skr nodded andy down on a straw mat.


    "Our home was attacked by monsters," Tormund exined solemnly, "forcing Uncle Falcon to lead us on this journey."


    "Monsters? Like alligators or pythons in the swamp?" Rhaegar''s curiosity was piqued.


    "No, shadow creatures, swift as pythons, lurking unseen," Tormund trembled with fear.


    Rhaegar was incredulous. "I''ve never heard of such creatures. Are they real?" he asked, turning to Skr for confirmation.


    Skr nodded sadly. "They are. Even our elders are baffled. These monsters came out of nowhere."


    Rhaegar frowned, uneasy. The safety of this tribe was more precarious than he''d thought.


    After a somber exchange, the cave fell silent.


    The threey in their beds, the cries of the wildlings echoing from the carnival outside the cave.


    After a while, Skr broke the silence. "Why is your sister the heir?" she asked.


    "It doesn''t matter; we''re both my mother''s children," Rhaegar replied, uninterested.


    "You''re fooling yourself. Noble lords prefer a son to inherit their title," Skr interjected.


    "True, but my father chose her, and I support her because we''re family," Rhaegar exined.


    Skr scoffed, "She''ll marry, have a family of her own, and you, the brother with a higher im to the throne, will just be in her way."


    "What lord are you the illegitimate daughter of? To have so much knowledge of the Targaryen political situation," Rhaegar joked.


    Skr grimaced. "Just a bastard from someone who couldn''t keep his pants on," she replied, ufortable discussing her heritage.


    "I don''t need you meddling in my family''s affairs, youngdy," Rhaegar shot back.


    Tormund chuckled, "He called youdy."


    Skr kicked him to stifle hisughter.


    The cave fell silent again.


    ...


    It''s midnight.


    The air is thick with humidity, and the crescent moon is hidden by a thick cloud.


    Without it, the darkness deepens.


    In the valley, the tired wildlings are sleeping in groups on the ground.


    The campfires are almost out, with just embers left.


    In the darkness, a shadowy figure emerges from the shadows of a looming tree.


    It blends in perfectly with the night, moving like a snake towards a sleeping savage.


    It sneaks into the savage''s nose, ears, and mouth...


    It seems almost like it''s made of air as it easily gets into the savage''s body.


    The savage is startled awake by a soft gagging sound. His eyes flutter open.


    To his horror, he finds a twisted creature on top of him, with tendrils extending like vines.


    Before he can scream, the tendrils pierce his brain, ending his life.


    With a chilling efficiency, the creature moves on, seeking its next victim in the darkness.


    ...


    Rhaegar was fast asleep inside the cave.


    Out of nowhere, a mournful scream pierced the night, jolting everyone awake.


    Rhaegar blinked and looked around the cave. The siblings were already on their feet, grabbing weapons from nearby.


    "Stay inside, it''s dangerous out there," they warned as they quickly left.


    Numbly, Rhaegar followed, believing is more dangerous to be left alone.


    Outside, the savages were in a panic. Some were tending to the bonfire, while others were lighting torches, but the darkness persisted.


    Rhaegar stayed close to Skr, peeking out to assess the situation amid the chaos. Amidst the screams, useful information was scarce.


    As themotion settled, Falcon returned with the tribe warriors, carrying corpses.


    Strong savages, bleeding from every orifice,y among them. One had been fatally shot by an arrow.


    In front of the tribe, Falcon incinerated the bodies.


    Another savage retrieved the arrow, scowling.


    "The other tribes have surrounded us and are watching our movements!" The Falcon''s angry roar echoed in the night.

 Chapter 73: The Promise

    Chapter 73: The Promise


    As soon as Falcon opened his mouth, the wildlings started making a lot of noise, rattling and screaming, and asking for revenge.


    Rhaegar asked Tormund in a quiet voice, "What happened to the three burned bodies?"


    Of the dead, only one had been shot; the others had died in strange ways.


    It was a detail too intriguing to escape Rhaegar''s notice.


    Tormund cast a fearful nce over his shoulder, his voice lowered to a tremble, "Those were the ones imed by the Shadow Creature. Its presence still haunts our tribe."


    Even as he spoke, his body trembled, his face growing even more pale.


    Addressing the assembled nsmen, Falcon raised his hands high, his voicemanding, "Silence! The enemy is close.Get your weapons ready right away!"


    The arrows killed the night''s sentinels.


    One of the tribe members had stumbled upon a body while answering nature''s call in the dead of night. His screams rallied the tribe.The other three were found by the tribe when they woke up, and their deaths made the Hawk tribe feel devastated.


    Falcon led the able-bodied savages in arming themselves, lighting torches, and venturing into the valley in small groups to scout.


    With the night sentinels down, it was clear that there was someone out there, waiting to strike at any moment.


    Rhaegar frowned at the grim scene unfolding before him.


    This tribe has be the target of an unknown threat, and now that other tribes were uncovering their route,unching an indiscriminate assault would only invite an ambush and annihtion under the cover of the night.


    As Rhaegar moved to issue his warning, Skr grabbed him by the cor and said, "Don''t act rashly. You can''t expect a bunch of impulsive savages to think things through."


    "But it''s dangerous!" Rhaegar kept pushing.


    "I am aware of that, as is Uncle Falcon. But the survival of the wildlings depends on conquest and subjugation," Skr replied.


    Skr, holding a bow, led Rhaegar and Tormund with a firm grip, suggesting, "Let''s hide with the women and children. Tribes rarely harm them."


    "..."


    The able-bodied savages followed Falcon out of the valley, leaving Rhaegar among the weak and infirm.


    Among them, besides the pregnant women, were the wild children who resembled untamed apes.


    Rhaegar observed the surroundings and said, "Your tribe seems to be short on men and children."


    "The conquered tribes see their men and elders killed, their women raped, and their children abandoned," Skr exined. "Many of these children are orphans taken in by Uncle Falcon. He believes they will grow up to be fierce warriors."


    "Falcon is a unique savage," Rhaegar said, shaking his head with a wry smile.


    For a hunter-gatherer like Falcon, feeding a child seemed like an impossible task. To expect a young savage to grow into greatness seemed like a huge challenge.


    ...


    The early morning air was filled with the sound of mes rising outside the valley, apanied by screams and the wailing of another group.


    Falcon stumbled back to the safety of the valley, covered in blood, followed by a few badly injured and angry figures.


    The ominous howls followed them relentlessly as the glow of the fire spread across the open expanse.


    "Run! The people of the Soldier Pine Tribe areing, get out of here!" Falcon brandished his axe, deflecting bone arrows as he urged the tribesmen to flee.


    "Quickly, move!"


    Without hesitation, Rhaegar dashed toward the narrow exit on the opposite side of the valley.


    ncing back, he saw the others running ahead with even more urgency.


    They fled in a frenzy of panicked screams.


    Rhaegar was left behind, struggling to keep up with the adults.


    He felt fear surge through him as he tried to reach out to Cannibal again, but received no response.


    "Don''t stand there, go!" Falcon''s voice cut through the chaos as he quickly grabbed Rhaegar''s clothes off and slung him over his shoulder before sprinting away with all his might.


    Rhaegar took a moment to look back. He watched as the invading savages poured into the valley.


    Half of them scavenged what remained of the Hawk tribe''s belongings. The others kept up their relentless pursuit.


    The small group Falcon had rallied proved no match for the invaders, some falling to their onught - some hacked to death, others pierced by bone arrows.


    Falcon''s figure zed a trail ahead, his stride leaving the pursuing savages far behind.


    The sight eased Rhaegar''s fears; he had no desire to be entangled in the deadly conflict between the tribes and risk his own demise.


    ...


    At dawn, the Hawk tribe was still on the run. They were heading west through the pine forest. They were broken up and scared.


    In the chaos, men were killed by des while women suffered unspeakable horrors on the forest floor.


    Children, desperate to survive, scattered in all directions, some meeting their pursuers, others seeking refuge in the dense foliage.


    Falcon, carrying Rhaegar on his shoulders, kept going, with a few loyal wildling guards following behind.


    When they finally reached a lonely hill, Falcon dropped Rhaegar to the ground. He was out of breath.


    "The tribe is lost," Falcon said, his voice heavy with grief.


    Xander, a wildling, looked at him with sad eyes. "We can rebuild it as long as we live. The day wille when we can return."


    Falcon tried to stay positive. "The tribe may be fading, but what about this child?"


    A fellow wildling looked at the pale Rhaegar with suspicion. "What use is he to us?"


    Rhaegar, battered and bruised, crouched behind Falcon, his gaze wary.


    "He''s got dragons and royal blood in his veins," Falcon said quietly, despite the noise around him. "He''s worth more than gold. He''s a beacon of hope for our tribe."


    But some people were still not convinced.


    "He''s just making it up," said one. "If he really had dragons, we would have already died in the fire."


    Another spat scornfully. "Perhaps the Soldier Pine tribe was drawn to him, he is the harbinger of our downfall, a curse upon us all."


    But Falcon stood firm, a shield against the rising tide of hostility. "Noble or not, he is one of us. We cannot abandon him."


    As the tension simmered, the savages cast cautious nces at Rhaegar, their weapons at the ready, uncertainty clouding their judgment.


    Rhaegar''s words rang out, his heart pounding with urgency. "My dragon is on its way back. I can use its power to avenge the Hawk tribe and bring you riches beyond your imagination."


    But even as he spoke, Rhaegar doubted the trustworthiness of this newfoundpany. They hadn''t evensted a single night before they broke apart.


    Falcon, who seemed to embody the steadfastness of a chieftain, took a deep breath and spoke with solemn authority. "If he ims to possess a dragon, let''s wait until dawn. The truth will be revealed in time."


    One wildling, Xander, dismissed the notion with a derisive snort and turned away, but the others, mindful of Falcon''s stature, reluctantly acquiesced and sat on the ground.


    As dawn approached, Falcon climbed to a vantage point on the hill with Rhaegar in tow, his eyes scanning the pine forest they had fled.


    Rhaegar, still catching his breath, sought reassurance. "I have a dragon."


    "I know," came Falcon''s short reply.


    "What will you do now that your tribe is scattered?" Rhaegar asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.


    Falcon''s answer was simple yet firm. "Wait."


    "Wait for what?" Rhaegar pressed, confused.


    Falcon fixed him with a steady gaze. "Wait for your dragon to find you and rain fire upon the tribe of Soldier Pine."


    The unexpected vote of confidence left Rhaegar momentarily stunned. "Do you believe me?"


    "I don''t," Falcon admitted, his tone cool and detached.


    "But my tribe is in trouble, our people have been hurt, and we don''t know what''s going to happen next. I need your dragon to help us get back what has been taken from us."


    Rhaegar''s resolve hardened. "Don''t worry. Once my dragon finds me, I''ll make sure your tribe gets what it deserves."


    "Then remember our agreement," Falcon reminded him sternly.


    Before their conversation could continue, a dark arrow pierced the air and found its mark in Falcon''s eye socket, instantly silencing him.


    Shocked, Rhaegar watched as the bone arrow emerged from the back of Falcon''s skull.

 Chapter 74: Hatred Never Lasts for One Night

    Chapter 74: Hatred Never Lasts for One Night


    It''s a pretty intense experience to see someone die, and Rhaegar would probably admit that he wasn''t prepared for it.


    As blood spattered from Falcon''s head, painting half of his once-silver hair crimson, Rhaegar remained calm and collected, without the expected difort, fear, or trembling that often apanies such gruesome scenes.


    He wiped the blood from his face with a steady hand, but his expression showed no emotion as he looked at Falcon''s body. His lips were pressed firmly together.


    His gaze then shifted, following the trajectory of the bone arrow to its origin��a towering pine tree shrouded in thick needles, where Xander, the fleeing wildling, stood poised with his bow drawn.


    "Is he dead?" Rhaegar''s voice was barely above a whisper as he nudged Falcon''s body with a boot. There was a note of disbelief in his voice.


    Despite the circumstances, Rhaegar couldn''t help but acknowledge Falcon''s intelligence and pragmatism, even in death.


    He had shown a rare quality among the savage tribes, one that Rhaegar had hoped to rely on to escape.


    But now that Falcon was dead, Rhaegar realized that he needed to find another way.


    "Get up," he told himself, addressing the fallen chieftain. "Falcon is dead. I need to find another way to escape."Meanwhile, Xander, feeling pretty confident after killing Falcon, went up the hill and got the other wildlings to rally.


    They hadn''t really grasped the situation yet. It was only after Xander asked them to look that they finally turned their gaze towards Falcon''s lifeless form, sprawled in a pool of crimson.


    One particrly tall wildling was seething with rage, eager to avenge Falcon''s death by exacting justice upon Xander.


    The others, however, didn''t say anything. They just looked at Xander with a mixture of scrutiny and apprehension.


    Xander silenced the dissenting wildling with a bone arrow, ending his life in an instant.


    He then addressed the remaining survivors. "The Hawk tribe is no more. Do you want to wander aimlessly in these pine woods?"


    He gave them a choice. "Follow me," hemanded. "We''re going to find refuge with the Soldier Pine Tribe��a stronger, untainted tribe."


    With a little persuasion, Xander got the others to switch sides, and their survival instincts won out over any lingering doubts.


    Xander pointed to the frozen figure of Rhaegar and said, "His family is royalty, and he has lots of money. If we give him to the Soldier Pine Tribe, they''ll ept us."


    Some people agreed with him, and he got more supporters. Finally, Xander tied Rhaegar up and put him on his shoulders, showing that he was in charge of the wildlings.


    Rhaegar, resigned to his fate, didn''t resist as he was restrained. He kept his gaze fixed upon Xander with a prating intensity.


    "Little brat, behave yourself if you want to live," Xander warned, a grin ying upon his lips as he caught Rhaegar''s stare.


    Rhaegar acknowledged his worth and said, "Indeed, I am valuable."


    "Then be honest," Xander warned, his tone hinting at a hint of menace. "Or face the consequences."


    "I assure you, honesty will be my virtue," Rhaegar replied.


    ...


    As the sun started to set, a few savages were out scouring the area, gathering up their scattered friends and family, regardless of age or gender.


    They were all brought together in a reluctant alliance.


    Together, they walked carefully towards the temporary encampment of the Soldier Pine Tribe, with a feeling of unease hanging over them.


    The familiar valley greeted them with an ominous air, tainted by the stench of blood and littered with the fallen from the Hawk tribe.


    Rhaegar was led before the leader of the Soldier Pine Tribe, and his gaze swept the scene.


    He felt his heart sink as he realized they were not the only enemies besieging the Hawk tribe.


    Surrounding the Soldier Pine leader were four imposing wildling chieftains, hailing from different tribes. Their presence cast a shadow over the grim proceedings.


    The Soldier Pine leader looked at Xander with disdain and ordered his subordinates to break Xander''s arms and legs before sending him off to his fate.


    The White Pine leader pointed an usatory finger at Rhaegar, who was roughly thrust forward.


    He was impatient as he delivered his decree. "This little brat will be confined with the women and children, while the others are reserved for the sacrificial rites."


    "Yes!" came the confirmation, cutting off any chance for Xander''s group to offer an exnation before they were forcibly dragged away, their limbs shattered in agony.


    Despite their cries of pain, they clung to a sliver of hope, willing to barter Rhaegar''s safety for their own lives.


    But their pleas fell on deaf ears. The leaders didn''t see them as anything but savages in a remote ravine.


    But amidst the callous indifference, one chieftain''s greedy gaze fixed on Rhaegar''s bracelet. His lust for wealth overpowered any semnce ofpassion as he snatched it away wordlessly.


    Before Rhaegar could say anything, a quick punch sent him sprawling to the ground, his voice silenced.


    "Take him away," the chieftainmanded dismissively, deeming Rhaegar a useless nuisance to be dealt withter.


    Struggling to rise, Rhaegar remained silent, resigned to his fate as he was unceremoniously thrown into a fenced enclosure alongside the other prisoners��a motley assortment of women and children.


    Among them, Rhaegar''s gaze locked onto the siblings, their once-vibrant spirits now dimmed by the harsh realities of captivity.


    Skr was covered in mud and dirt, and she shielded Tormund in a corner.


    Rhaegar spotted this acquaintance among the prisoners.


    "It''s you. Weren''t you with Uncle Falcon? Why are you here?" Skr inquired, with concerned face as she met Rhaegar''s gaze.


    Rhaegar''s words hit her hard as she processed the news. "Falcon was a good person, but life can be cruel," he murmured as her eyes tinged with sorrow.


    "Falcon Uncle died..." Rhaegar''s admission hung heavily in the air, disbelief clouding Skr''s features.


    "He was murdered by a traitor on our escape," Rhaegar added, resentment evident in his tone.


    Skr acknowledged the grim reality. "If even Uncle Falcon couldn''t survive, what hope do we have?"


    "Maybe there''s still a chance," Rhaegar said, sounding a bit more optimistic.


    After hearing Tormund talk something about sacrifices, Rhaegar thought about the situation.


    "So, sacrificing traitors to appease the spirits of the dead... Is that something your people do often?" he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and concern.


    Tormund, hunched over on the ground, nodded solemnly."Yes, I heard from my captors earlier that the surrounding tribes believe the recent attacks by monsters are the work of vengeful spirits."


    "They''ve resorted to capturing other tribesmen for sacrifice in hopes of appeasing them," he exined, his voice trembling with fear.


    Acknowledging Tormund''s words with a silent nod, Rhaegar refrained from pressing further.


    He quietly retreated to another corner of their makeshift prison, his mind racing as he searched for a solution.


    As he sat alone, Rhaegar couldn''t shake the feeling of despair that hung heavy in the air.


    The Hawk Tribe had never been known for their strength or cunning, and the other tribes gathered in the valley seemed equally ill-equipped.


    With a resigned sigh, Rhaegar thought out loud, "Well, for now, it might be best to stay low and wait it out."


    ...


    Night fell over the valley.


    The victorious savages celebrated their triumph, lighting bonfires that illuminated the darkness and echoing their primal celebrations throughout the night.


    But as the hours passed, the fervor died down, and a somber peace settled over the encampment.


    People were tired from the day''s events, so they went to sleep with loved ones.


    Some people fell asleep quickly, while others struggled to get to sleep.


    Amidst the eerie stillness, Rhaegar stirred from his feigned slumber, his senses sharp and attuned to the quietude of the night.


    With a sense of purpose, he got up from the ground, looking at the scared women and children huddled together before he quietly made his way to the edge of the prison.


    The fence, which was poorly manned by tired guards, provided little resistance as Rhaegar slipped through the gaps.


    His small frame and dark attire blended seamlessly into the shadows.


    He avoided the vignt patrols and traversed the valley until he reached a precipice overlooking the captive Xander and his men.


    Theyy battered and broken, their bodies bearing the cruel marks of torture.


    With a heavy heart, Rhaegar picked up an old iron axe from a nearby campfire. He felt his resolve strengthen as he approached Xander, who was unconscious and bleeding.


    Rhaegar paused to think about what he as going to do next.


    In ast-ditch effort to wake Xander from his slumber, he resorted to force, delivering a series of urgent kicks until Xander stirred, his eyes wide with fear.


    "Look at me, Xander!" Rhaegarmanded, his voice cutting through the night.


    As Xander''s gaze met his own, Rhaegar''s resolve hardened, his grip tightening on the axe.


    "It''s you..." Xander''s words trailed off as Rhaegar''s axe descended swiftly.


    With a sickening thud, the de severed Xander''s artery, unleashing a torrent of crimson that drenched Rhaegar in a chilling baptism of blood.


    Bowing his head in silent reverence, Rhaegar uttered a solemn farewell: "You and Falcon, halves of a whole. May your souls find peace."


    With each swing of the axe, he was seeking not only vengeance but closure, as the echoes of his actions reverberated through the night.

 Chapter 75: Return of the Dragon

    Chapter 75: Return of the Dragon


    With each swing of the axe, Rhaegar felt the weight of his actions, his hands stained with blood.


    But as his enemy''s head rolled to the ground, he felt a strange sensation, mixed with a deep sense of dread.


    "It''s not as simple as it seems," he said to himself, his voice barely audible over the noise of the camp. "But this axe... it''s surprisingly bnced."


    Rhaegar put the bloody weapon aside and took a look around. This was just the start. There was still a lot more to do.


    For once, he didn''t try to hide from the patrolling savages. Instead, he walked right into the heart of the camp, his purpose clear.


    Before he knew it, he was surrounded by a group of wary warriors, their weapons drawn and their eyes zing with hostility.


    "Hey, kid, what are you doing here?" one of them demanded, his voice dripping with contempt.


    Rhaegar remained calm in the face of their hostility. "You''d do well to show a Targaryen some respect," he replied, his wordsced with a hint of defiance.


    The crowd let out a loud, derisiveugh. "You say you''re a Targaryen? More like a dead man walking!" taunted one particrly vile savage, his face contorted with malice.In response, Rhaegar just held out a hand, pointing upward. This caught the savages'' attention.


    "Look up," he told them, his tone calm despite the danger looming overhead.


    Two glowing green orbs moved through the night air, cutting through the darkness like etherealnterns, casting an otherworldly glow on the scene below.


    The savages stopped in their tracks, their breath catching in their throats as they watched the incredible show unfold above them.


    With a subtle tremor, the green lights swayed, causing the very fabric of the night sky to ripple.


    Then they saw it: a huge creature, its ck scales shining in the moonlight, surveying the valley with an air of unquestionable authority.


    As they took in this sight, fear gripped their hearts, leaving them powerless in the presence of the beast.


    They fell to their knees, their weapons forgotten, as they cowered before the mighty predator.


    "Devour him," Rhaegar said, his voice breaking the tense silence as he approached the trembling savage.


    With a menacing roar, the dragon asserted his dominance, sending the victim sprawling backward.


    Before he even hit the ground, the dragon''s agile jaws seized the man and dragged him into its gaping maw.


    The crunch of bones echoed through the night as the dragon devoured its prey, sating its hunger with mercilessly.


    With this disy of power, Rhaegar''s dragon, Cannibal, reimed its rightful ce as the apex predator of Dragonstone.


    Sensing his master''s distress during the day''s ordeal, Cannibal had returned of his own ord, guided by the bond between dragon and rider.


    Now reunited, man and dragon stood as one.


    With a determined look, Rhaegar mounted his loyal steed, his expression showing no hint of mercy as he surveyed the trembling natives below.


    All that patience he''s had all day is for this moment of vengeance. Now, Rhaegar will take his dragon and burn all those who have disrespected him with dragonfire.


    As Cannibal walked past them, Rhaegar''s voice rang out with a cold indifference.


    "Summon your leaders. I will await their arrival."


    Perched atop the formidable dragon, Rhaegarmanded the remaining savages with an air of authority as he demanded their obedience.


    "Monsters... monsters..." The onlookers were so shocked that they couldn''t speak. They were reeling from the sight of theirrades being killed.


    Each word Rhaegar spoke seemed to carry a sense of doom, sending shivers down their spines and igniting a primal instinct to flee.


    They jumped to their feet and ran in all directions, screaming in panic.


    But even though they were scared, the dragon stayed perfectly still, its dragonfire still held in check.


    Instead, it extended a sinuous tail, scooped up the savage leader, and delivered him to Rhaegar with effortless precision.


    Rhaegar epted the recovered bracelet with a casual flick of his hand and looked at the fallen leader with icy detachment.


    "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Your fate is in your hands," he intoned, his voice devoid of emotion.


    As Rhaegar''s gaze fell once more on the trembling savages below, the dragon picked up on his intent.


    With a roar, it unleashed a torrent of dragonfire that lit the valley in a zing inferno, sending shockwaves of heat through the air.


    The savages, with their psychological defences shattered, cowered in fear before the power of the dragon.


    They knelt before the dragon''s power and surrendered their weapons. They joined in a chorus of fear and awe for the deity before them��the god of fire incarnate.


    Rhaegar''s voice cut through the tumult. It was cold andmanding. He asked, "Which one of you is the leader of the Soldier Pine tribe?"


    His words, though soft, silenced the mor around them.


    Whispers rippled through the crowd as they, driven by fear, pushed forward the leader of the Soldier Pine tribe - a stalwart figure, his features etched with fear.


    Rhaegar kept his cool as he asked the trembling savage, "Many tribes have joined forces against the Hawk Tribe. Who orchestrated this?"


    "I did!" The leader admitted, "We joined together in the face of the evil spirits'' curse." His resolve faltered under Rhaegar''s scrutiny.


    "Your honesty ismendable," Rhaegar remarked, his hand caressing the dragon''s smooth scales. With a casual gesture, he uttered amand in High Valyrian: "Dracarys."


    Confusion clouded the savages'' faces as they failed to understand the ancient tongue.


    In an instant, emerald mes erupted from the dragon''s maw, engulfing the leader of the Soldier Pine tribe in a ze of dragonfire.


    In an instant, flesh turned to ash, consumed by the dragonfire.


    Rhaegar looked away, unwilling to witness the carnage he had wrought.


    The act weighed heavily on him, but he remained decided. He''d made a promise and he was going to keep it.


    "Run! Run for your lives! This demon child rides a beast to bring destruction upon us all!"


    The dragonfire stirred the courage in some of the onlookers. They didn''t dare face Rhaegar and his fearsome mount directly, but they grabbed their weapons and fled in terror.


    Despite the panic, Rhaegar watched the chaos with a calm face. He gave a lowmand, and the dragon responded by spreading its wings and rising into the night sky.


    mes rained down upon the fleeing savages from the dragon''s gaping maw, engulfing them in destruction.


    Bored with the spectacle, the dragon circled above the valley, showing its contempt for the scattered savages.


    As the survivors knelt in abject submission, begging for mercy, Rhaegar rode atop his dragon, watching the scene below with detached interest.


    He couldn''t understand the words of the wildlings because their various dialects blended into an iprehensiblenguage.


    But amidst the chaos, he foundfort in the quiet of his own heart, secure in his position of power.


    The dragon circled the valley, unleashing dragonfire.


    Several times, Rhaegar broke from his reverie to issuemands to the kneeling wildlings below.


    "Rescue the Hawk tribe members and keep an eye on the Soldier Pine tribe."


    "Yes, Lord, we will obey," they replied, their voices trembling with reverence.


    At that moment, whether you are a savage leader or a savage warrior who only knows how to fight, all you can do is kneel and beg for mercy.


    Under the dragon''s outstretched wings, all beings were equal, united in awe and fear.


    Pointing to the charred remains that littered the ground, Rhaegar spoke with a hint of regret, "Gather the bodies and give them a proper cremation."

 Chapter 76: The Shadow That Couldn’t Be Killed

    Chapter 76: The Shadow That Couldn��t Be Killed


    Rhaegar''s youthful voice carried an air of authority from everyone who heard it.


    A few brave natives got up from the ground and looked up at the huge dragon with a mix of fear and awe.


    They bent down to collect the charred remains left by the dragonfire.


    In a rare moment of satisfaction, Rhaegar showed mercy.


    He gestured to several other wildling leaders and asked, "Identify yourselves and exin the reason for your gathering."


    He didn''t really care about their tribal names, but the curses they were talking about gave him pause.


    He''d seen what the Shadow Creature did to the Hawk tribe, so he figured these tribes had banded together because they were facing amon threat.


    He wanted to know more about the curse.


    "My name is Gram, this is Moriyama, and this is Trangal..." The pointy-headed savage leader was visibly shaken, giving an honest ount like a submissivemb.In total, five tribes of wildlings had gathered in the valley.


    Except for the leader of the Soldier Pine tribe, who met his end by dragonfire, and the other wildling leader who was dragged away, the remaining three were present.


    Rhaegar motioned for Cannibal to descend, his massive form kicking up a cloud of dust that momentarily blinded the wildlings.


    Seizing the chance, Rhaegar turned to one of the wildling leaders.


    "What exactly is this curse you''re talking about?" he asked.


    The bearded savage named Trangal spoke up, trembling with fear. "The cursees from the shadows��a silent threat that takes men''s lives without mercy."


    "It can''t be captured or killed. Our only option is to offer living sacrifices in an attempt to appease it."


    Indeed, the presence of a Shadow Creature seemed all too real.


    Rhaegar nodded in understanding and asked, "How widespread is this curse? Does it affect every tribe?"


    "There''s only one curse that prowls the darkness of the swamps and pine forests in search of prey," Trangal replied.


    "Have you seen firsthand the victims in by this shadow?" Rhaegar inquired, his brow furrowed with concern.


    "Yes, lots of people have seen the cursed shadows rise and im the lives of the living," Trangal confirmed.


    "It seems to be a strange and dangerous creature," Rhaegar said quietly, realizing the seriousness of the situation.


    A malevolent that can move through shadows would be a serious threat anywhere. And now it was haunting Crackw Point. Who knows if it''ll spread to the maind?


    Rhaegar, apanied by his dragon, felt he had to get involved.


    He waited for a while until they returned with the prisoners from the Hawk tribe. The Soldiers Pine tribe members were also brought forward and forced to kneel on the other side.


    After a moment of thought, Rhaegar spoke up, his voice cold. "Bring these traitors forward and lure out the Shadow Creature. Let''s assess the threat it poses."


    The pitiless savages immediately obeyed and led the traitors forward, including the corpse of Xander, who had met his end.


    Riding on the dragon''s back, Rhaegar watched as the savages tied the traitors to a tree and extinguished the surrounding campfires, plunging the area into darkness.


    At this point, they had to wait.


    The wildling leaders said that the Shadow Creature came almost every night, killing tribe members and scaring themunity.


    After much discussion, they decided to unite, forming a coalition of five small tribes into onerger tribe. They raided neighboring tribes for resources and prisoners.


    They used these prisoners as sacrifices to feed the cursed shadows that gued their tribes.


    Time passed slowly, the stillness of the night broken only by asional murmurs and shifting shadows.


    By two in the morning, a collective unease had taken hold in the air as the wildlings knelt nervously, unsure of what was going to happen to them.


    Rhaegar was lying on Cannibal''s broad back, his senses dulled by weariness and anticipation.


    Then, suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the silence, jolting everyone to attention.


    Rhaegar suddenly sat up, his eyes snapping to the source of the disturbance.


    It wasn''ting from where the prisoners were being held, but from near the Soldier Pine tribe.


    The terrified scream of a female wildling cut through the night, causing the crowd to part and revealing the scene of the curse''s attack.


    Rhaegar jumped to his feet and looked around.


    There he saw a male wildling sprawled on the ground, caught in writhing ck tendrils that emerged from the shadows below. Beside himy another unfortunate soul, lifeless and bleeding from every orifice.


    "Clear the way!" Rhaegar barked, scattering the surrounding savages and urging the Cannibal forward. "Dracarys!"


    The dragon, taken aback by the shadows, paused for a moment. But at its master''smand, it unleashed dragonfire at the encroaching shadows.


    Boom!


    The green fire lit up the night, burning a path through the shadows and leaving a scorched crater in its wake.


    But to Rhaegar''s surprise, the Shadow Creature was unharmed.


    "It''s not burned?" Rhaegar asked himself aloud.


    Before he could make sense of the situation, another scream cut through the air. This time, it was from the wildlings of the Hawk Tribe.


    Rhaegar quickly turned his attention to see the tentacles of darkness seize several female wildlings and their children.


    The tendrils were incredibly efficient, plunging into their bodies and snuffing out their lives.


    Rhaegar was astonished as the shadows on the ground expanded with each life taken, and the tentacles grew longer and more menacing.


    "Dracarys!" Rhaegar gave the order, and Cannibal let loose another st of fire.


    This time, the Shadow Creature didn''t stand a chance. It retreated instantly into the darkness as the dragonfire engulfed it.


    The creature writhed and convulsed in agony, unable to withstand the mes.


    It tried to get closer to Rhaegar, but Cannibal''s dragonfire repelled it.


    Atst, it let out a piercing hiss and retreated into the nearby shadows.


    "What kind of creature is that?" Rhaegar was amazed by the creature''s resistance to the dragonfire.


    The dragonfire was a force to be reckoned with, capable of melting even stone, yet this monstrous creature had withstood it, evading capture in the darkness.


    Rhaegar was intrigued by the Shadow Creature''s mysterious nature. It was unlike anything he had encountered before.


    Meanwhile, the sight of the dragon battling the Shadow Creature filled the onlookers with a mixture of awe and terror.


    Rhaegar was getting tired of their constant pleas for divine intervention. He signaled Cannibal to silence them with a resounding roar.


    "I''m not a god," he said firmly, cutting through the noise. "I''m a Targaryen. So silence!"


    Amid the crowd, Skr grabbed Tormund''s arm, her eyes gleaming with admiration and wonder as she looked up at Rhaegar.


    She spoke with great enthusiasm, saying, "Youmand the dragon, you are a Dragonlord!"


    Her deration inspired the other savages to join in, chanting the title "Dragonlord" in unison.


    Rhaegar looked at Skr with a raised eyebrow, acknowledging her promation.


    Even though he wasn''t the legendary Dragonlord himself, the title the savages gave him had a certain power and respect.


    Rhaegar looked down at the tribesmen, who were submissive and fearful. He began to form a n.


    He was determined to get revenge on Falcon''s tribe, but he realized that one wildling leader wouldn''t be enough.


    As he considered his options, he decided against a ughter and instead opted for another approach.


    The Shadow Creature was a serious threat, and if he wanted to get rid of it, he''d need the help of these very wildlings.


    With a firm voice, Rhaegar addressed the crowd. "The curse that gues Crackw Point is putting your very existence at risk. It''s forcing you into migration and turmoil."


    "I''m Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, the King''s eldest son, and I ride the strongest wild dragon that can burn everything with dragon fire!"


    "Submit to me and I will protect you from the curse and together we can kill that shadow!"

 Chapter 77: Conquering the Peninsula

    Chapter 77: Conquering the Penins


    Though Rhaegar''s voice was youthful and his stature small, the presence of Cannibal at his side loomedrge, casting a formidable shadow over the assembled wildlings.


    At hismand, the wildlings bowed in awe before the imposing figure of the dragon.


    Taking control of the situation, Rhaegar continued, his tone firm, "Now that you''ve pledged your allegiance to me, you''ll obey my everymand without hesitation or risk facing the wrath of dragonfire."


    The wildling leaders, at first filled with fervor, submitted, understanding that resistance would only lead to their destruction.


    For the wildlings were not stupid; they knew that the curse meant death for them, while the dragonfire offered a chance at salvation.


    In the presence of the mighty dragon, the previously disparate and rebellious wildlings were drawn to the prospect of a stronger leader.


    Watching the newfound admiration in the savages'' eyes, Rhaegar''s own emotions stirred, a sense of responsibility settling on his shoulders.


    After a moment of reflection, he issued his firstmand.


    "The Shadow Creature threatens all tribes besides yours. Before it bes too powerful, you will unite under my banner and take control of the penins!"This was Rhaegar''s improvised strategy: gather the wildlings, draw out the Shadow Creature, and destroy it with dragonfire.


    A chorus of excited cheers erupted from the wildlings at the promise of conquering the penins and subjugating rival tribes.


    Among this tribe of fierce warriors, who engage in perpetualbat, nothing rivals the intensity of their passion, whether in battle or in love.


    ...


    The Next Day


    The next day, Rhaegar gathered the wildling leaders and entrusted them with the responsibility of leading their respective tribes.


    Having lost their leader, the Soldier Pine tribe chose a sessor and united under the name Crab w, signifying their allegiance to Rhaegar as their supreme leader.


    The valley proved to be an ideal location for their settlement, offering abundant resources and natural defenses.


    Rhaegar ordered the women and children to remain in the valley, guarded by a hundred skilled warriors drawn from the five tribes of the wildlings. With the addition of the elderly, infirm, and nonbatants, their numbers swelled to over three thousand.


    After weeding out those unfit for battle, Rhaegar was left with a force of about a thousand warriors, a formidable contingent for his purposes.


    Their mission was clear: to fan out across the swamps and pine forests, seeking out and subduing the tribes of savages throughout the penins.


    At the mere sight of his dragon circling twice overhead, the savages willingly submitted, their silent acquiescence speaking volumes.


    In just five days, Rhaegar''s dragon traversed the eastern reaches of Crackw Point, quickly bringing more than a dozen small tribes under his control and swelling his ranks to tens of thousands.


    On the edge of a poisonous swamp, Rhaegar reclined in a rudimentary shelter made of animal skins.


    Sitting amidst the animal skins, Rhaegar inquired, "How many have we assimted today?"


    "Prince, we''ve assimted over two thousand in total, with only about eight hundred of them fit forbat," Skr, now dressed in linen, reported, presenting thetest tally of recruits.


    The strategy of the Peninsr Savages was remarkably simple.


    Rhaegar wasrgely inactive, except for the asional dragon ride to intimidate rebellious tribes, relying mainly on the manpower provided by the Crab ws.


    Skr continued, "You have traversed the eastern penins on dragonback and integrated the wild tribes. However, there are noble castles in the western region, so we''ve refrained from rushing in."


    "No matter, the nobles of the penins are sworn to the Iron Throne," Rhaegar replied somewhat nonchntly.


    The conquest of the penins proved to be less exciting than expected, more like a game of make-believe.


    The ignorant savages fell to their knees at the mere sight of the dragon, sparing Rhaegar any significant effort.


    At that moment, the tent ps parted to reveal a tall figure.


    "Prince, the leader of the White Crow tribe refused to surrender, so I''ve brought you his head," Trangal, one of the first Crab ws to swear fealty, knelt before Rhaegar and offered a bloodied head.


    They met regrly with Rhaegar, and though he refused the title of Dragonlord, they dly addressed him as Prince.


    Frowning in disapproval, Rhaegarmanded, "Dispose of the remains and spare me of such disy."


    Were it not for the Shadow Creature, he would have dly distanced himself from these brutal disys.


    Each of them seemed as dense as a block of stone. How much longer would he have to endure such barbarism?


    He noddedand left, announcing, "The White Crow tribe has been subjugated, and the eastern penins is tribe-free. We will rest tonight and move on the western region at dawn."


    "Agreed, Prince," Trangal affirmed, preparing to take his leave.


    Skr interjected with concern, "We''re running low on supplies, and with so many mouths to feed, the valley''s resources won''tst long."


    "How long can we sustain ourselves?" Rhaegar inquired, straightening his posture.


    "Three days at the most," Skr replied curtly.


    "s, with tens of thousands to feed every day, how did you manage before?" Rhaegarmented, never having dealt with logistics.


    "Tormund and I struggled to feed ourselves for half a year under Uncle Falcon''s care," Skr recounted.


    "Let''s hurry to the western penins and deal with the Shadow Creature quickly," Rhaegar instructed, with a worried expression. "Was there any sign of the creature?"


    "No, it looks like he hid, knowing it was being chased," Skr replied, expressing her frustration.


    ...


    Two dayster, on a deste mountain pass, a procession of wildlings hurried westward.


    Above them soared a colossal ck dragon, its vast wings casting a shadow over thend below.


    With the eastern reaches of the penins secured, Rhaegar led the wildlings on a great migration.


    But he exercised prudence, choosing not to take everyone.


    The elderly, the infirm, children, women, and half of the warriors remained in the east, living off the hunt.


    The remaining contingent,consisting of over two dozen Crab w leaders and more than 2,300 men, apanied Rhaegar westward, carrying provisions for three days.


    Though seemingly modest for a force renowned across the continent, their numbers made for a formidable army on this deste penins.


    Along the way, theyencountered several small noble ns, entrenched in the valleys for generations, with noble titles but mired in poverty.


    As Cannibal''s wings passed overhead, these lesser nobles emerged from their dwellings and pledged allegiance to the prince.


    But their loyalty proved weak when Rhaegar demanded supplies for the wildlings.


    They refused even when he promised double repayment, and only relented when they saw the power of the dragon.


    ...


    "Attack!"


    "Kill the dogs of House Brune!"


    "Damn you Crabbs, ughter them all!"


    Hovering above, Rhaegar watched a chaotic melee unfold in an open field below.


    "Cannibal, let''s descend and survey the scene," hemanded, tapping the dragon''s spine as they descended.


    Below, a motley group of iron-d "soldiers" shed, their clothingcking proper armor, most wearing rough linen robes.


    Their weapons, aged and worn, betrayed the appearance of a formal army.


    Rhaegar watched the skirmish, noting the banners on both sides, marsh marigolds and a deadwood adorned with skeletons hanging on both sides of the clearing.

 Chapter 78: The Loyalty of House Crabb

    Chapter 78: The Loyalty of House Crabb


    As the confrontation between the opposing forces increased, the intensity of the battle reached its peak.


    Knights under their respective banners led the charge, their war cries echoing across the field.


    Upon seeing the two banners, Rhaegar immediately recognized the insignia of thergest noble families on the penins: House Brune of the Dyre Den and House Crabb of the Whispers.


    Though often considered half-wild, these two families maintained a semnce of family honor, especially House Crabb, which boasted a history of prominent members, including former members of the Kingsguard and the Small Council.


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but wonder about their motives for conflict, given their impoverished state.


    "Why would these families fight?" he mused, puzzled by their seemingly incongruous actions.


    Preferring not to act impulsively, Rhaegar remained atop the dragon, watching the battle unfold.


    In times of war, animosity knows no bounds and cannot be quelled by mere words.


    As the melee continued, Rhaegar decided to take the initiative and intervene, attempting to stop the bloodshed and negotiate with the defeated and wounded members of both families.Despite his efforts, the battle raged on, withbatants on both sides fighting desperately, their screams filling the air.


    After half an hour of relentless fighting, fatigue began to take its toll on thebatants.


    At that moment, Rhaegar''s own forces arrived from the rear, encircling the battlefield at hismand.


    Asserting his authority, Rhaegar sought to direct and organize the chaotic battle, recognizing the opportunity to learn from the experience despite his youth.


    The battle below came to an end, prompting Rhaegar to intervene. He patted the Cannibal''s spine gently, signaling him to descend through the clouds.


    With a roar, Cannibal let out a long whistle as his colossal form emerged from the clouds, casting a shadow over the battlefield like a dark storm descending upon a city.


    The soldiers caught in the melee were thrown into disarray by the sudden appearance of the dragon, and chaos erupted in their ranks without anymand from their leaders. Hovering in the sky, Cannibal unleashed a disy of green dragon mes without waiting for orders from either side''smanders.


    "Dragons! There are no dragons on this penins!"


    "Run! What kind of monster is that?"


    The battlefield was thrown into utter chaos the moment the dragon appeared. Terrified soldiers abandoned their armor and fled, only to be blocked by the wildlings on the outskirts of the battle.


    Led by the Crab ws, the wildling army closed in, screaming and provoking. Seizing the opportunity, Rhaegar led Cannibal into the clearing, drawing the attention of bothmanders.


    When they saw the figure atop the dragon, its silver-gold hair catching the light, the hearts of both sides skipped a beat. A dragon with a rider was far more manageable than a wild dragon unleashed upon men without restraint.


    From the back of his dragon, Rhaegar surveyed the battlefield below and proimed in a resounding voice, "I am Rhaegar Targaryen, eldest son of King Viserys I. Where are the knights loyal to the Iron Throne?"


    His words reverberated across the field, causing bothmanders and their retinues to rush forward and kneel before him, heads bowed, offering their allegiance.


    "Greetings, my lord. The Brune House and the Crabb House send you their most sincere greetings," they chanted in unison.


    Rhaegar surveyed themanders and their aides, all d in iron armor and robes of office, and asked, "The noble families of the penins have always maintained their independence. Why did you engage in this private war?"


    "Prince, it is the Brunes who have been oppressing us and invading ournds!" the knight of House Crabb replied indignantly.


    "Nonsense! It is you, the Crabbs, who have plundered our merchant ships before, yet you refuse to acknowledge it!" the Brunemander shot back, his expression filled with resentment.


    Frowning at the heated exchange, Rhaegar tried to determine the cause of the conflict. But as soon as he asked the question, the two sides began a heated argument, drawing their swords and advancing on each other.


    As he watched the scene unfold, Rhaegar could not help but feel a sense of frustration. The rough nature of the half-wild families on the penins left no room for diplomacy; they were quick to resort to violence to settle their disputes, with no time for reconciliation.


    Rhaegarmanded the Cannibal to let out a deafening roar, instantly silencing the battlefield.


    With a stern expression, Rhaegar addressed them with clear dissatisfaction, "Summon your lords and pay homage to the king''s eldest son! Or bring forth whoever holds authority in their ce."


    "Yes, Prince..." The two sides dared not dy, their mutual hatred and anger momentarily set aside as they ordered their adjutants to summon their respective lords.


    Meanwhile, Rhaegar ordered the remaining troops to gather the bodies of the fallen soldiers.


    He then ordered the wildling army to form a defensive perimeter, consolidate their position, and send scouts to the eastern reaches of the penins for any remaining wildling tribes.


    ...


    It was near noon when a few swift horses carrying the lords of the two castles reached the open field of the battlefield, where the lingering scent of blood still hung in the air.


    Their first sight was the imposing figure of Cannibal, sprawled on the ground like a small mountain.


    "Seven above! A Targaryen prince has graced Crackw Point with his presence," eximed the head of the Crabb family, a tall, elderly man with half-white hair and a stout frame, as he gazed upon the pitch-ck dragon.


    The penins was so deste that encounters with outsiders were rare. For many years, the sight of a member of the royal familymanding a dragon was almost unheard of.


    Ignoring the advice of his guards, the Lord of Whispers, Sam Crabb, quickly dismounted his horse and raced to the dragon.


    When he saw the drowsy Rhaegar on the dragon''s back, his eyes widened in disbelief.


    "To tame such a colossal dragon at such a young age!" he marveled.


    Kneeling on one knee with his sword raised in respect, he called out in a strong voice, "I, Sam Crabb, Lord of the Whispers, pay homage to the prince!"


    Rhaegar looked down at the old man and remarked, "Lord Sam, it is not customary to offer one''s sword in greeting to a prince."


    "I am aware of that," Sam replied, breathing heavily. "But when faced with such noble blood and the sight of such a dragon, I can only humbly offer my allegiance. The Crabb House wishes to pledge our allegiance and be your bannermen."


    "My ancestor, Ser rence Crabb, known as rence the Short, was a Knight of the Kingsguard."


    "And my uncle, Ser Clement Crabb, was a Knight of the Kingsguard during the reign of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen."


    Rhaegar listened intently as Sam recounted his family''s history, weaving a tale that stretched back to the days of House Targaryen. But Rhaegar remained perplexed by the fervor of Sam''s loyalty.


    "I''m only a prince, not heir to the Iron Throne." Rhaegar was even more confused.


    Sam''s smile held as he continued, "Today, House Crabb has long since distanced itself from House Targaryen. Whether you ascend the Iron Throne is of little consequence to us. All we seek is to pledge our allegiance to you, noble prince, and to see the banner of the Marsh Marigold once again embraced by the glory of the crown."


    Rhaegar hesitated, his mind swirling with conflicting thoughts. While House Crabb''s allegiance could be of great help, it would also draw unwanted attention.


    With a furrowed brow, Rhaegar carefully considered his answer. "Lord Sam, I appreciate your unwavering loyalty, but as a prince without im to the Iron Throne, I cannot rightfully ept a lord''s allegiance."

 Chapter 79: The Shadow Lands

    Chapter 79: The Shadow Lands


    "Prince..."


    Sam began, but was cut off by a younger man at his side.


    "Old Sam, the Prince does not want your old bones, do not embarrass him any further," the man interjected.


    Dressed in ck, he was the Lord of Dyre Den, and he too knelt before Rhaegar and offered his greetings. "Wells Brune pays his respects to the Prince and offers his sincerest blessings."


    Anger shed across Sam''s face and he turned his head away from Wells with a contemptuous snort.


    "Rise, both of you," Rhaegarmanded, motioning for them to stand.


    As the appointed leaders gathered, Rhaegar wasted no time with formalities. "I have no interest in the squabbles of the nobles of the penins. I''m here for only one reason."


    "Have any of you heard of or encountered an unnatural shadow creature?"


    Wells replied bluntly, "Not really, Prince."Sam hesitated before speaking. "Prince, I have heard rumors of such a creature."


    "Please, tell me more," Rhaegar urged, his curiosity piqued by the unexpected lead.


    Sam''s expression turned serious as he recounted, "About half a moon ago, a merchant ship was shipwrecked in a storm in the Narrow Sea. It washed ashore on one of the beaches of our penins."


    "Our soldiers from The Whisper were sent to investigate. When they boarded the ship, they found it deserted, with no cargo or survivors."


    "Disappointed, they began to disembark, only to be ambushed by a creature lurking in the shadows. It killed three men before vanishing without a trace."


    Wells opened his mouth to interrupt, "Wrong, that freighter was a ship trading with the Dyre Den, shipwrecked on the Narrow Sea and plundered by you."


    "In your words, it became an empty ship with no money and no people!"


    "Enough," Rhaegar interjected sharply, silencing the young lord''s attempt to intervene. "I didn''t ask for your opinion. Be quiet."


    Stunned by the rebuke, Wells hesitated for a moment before lowering his head in submission, his words stifled.


    Turning his attention back to Sam, Rhaegar urged him to continue.


    Sam recounted the incident with the cargo ship and the subsequent conflict between their families, emphasizing the usations made against them by the Brune House.


    Rhaegar rubbed his temples, frustrated at theck of useful information despite his inquiries. He shifted the conversation to the origins of the shadow creature.


    "Where did the cargo shipe from and what route did it take?" he asked, directing his question at Wells.


    Wales replied in a subdued tone, "The freighter departed from Qarth, passing through ve Bay, the Stepstones Inds, and the Free Trade city-states. asionally it would stop at Crabs Bay on its way back, trading goods with Gulltown and the Dyre Den."


    "Qarth?" Rhaegar mused, remembering the world map he had studied in the Red Keep.


    Qarth lies at the Jade Gates, which connect the Summer Sea to the fabled Jade Sea. The city lies southeast of Lhazar and the Red Waste, and southwest of the Bone Mountains.


    Qarth''s location also makes it the gateway between thends of Westeros, the Free Cities, and ver''s Bay, and the more easternnds of Asshai, the Shadonds, and Yi Ti.


    As the pieces of the puzzle fell into ce, Rhaegar''s suspicions grew. "The Shadonds... shadow creatures..." He pondered the connection between Qarth and the Shadonds, his mind racing with possibilities.


    Sam offered a reminder, "Prince, the Shadonds is a realm shrouded in darkness, filled with sirens and blood witches, a realm of fear and chaos."


    "Perhaps the Shadonds is too far from Westeros to be detected," he added.


    Rhaegar paused for a moment, considering Sam''s words. "Lord Sam, in the western part of the penins, a shadow creature terrorizes the wildlings and thrives on taking lifes. I''vee here on my dragon to destroy it."


    "House Crabb stands ready to serve you, Prince," Sam dered solemnly, hismitment unwavering.


    Rhaegar acknowledged Sam''s loyalty with a nod before turning his gaze to Wells.


    Wells scowled at Sam and the nearby wildlings. "Prince, you should not pay attention to old Sam''s story. He''s just trying to distract you from the fact that the freighter was plundered and to deceive you."


    "So Lord Wells believes the shadow creature I saw is a fabrication?" Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed slightly.


    "I dare not suggest that, but considering the prince''s youth, it might be wise to stay away from savages. They''re nothing more than ignorant beasts," Wells replied weakly.


    Rhaegar''s expression hardened. "Enough, Lord Wells. The Shadow Beast is real and it consumes life to strengthen itself. It''s time for the people of the penins to put aside their prejudices and unite to defeat it."


    "With all due respect, I have never encountered this supposed shadow creature, and I refuse to work with savages and enemies," Wells countered, his tone defiant.


    Rhaegar waved his hand dismissively. "Then you may leave."


    When Wells tried to interject, Rhaegar cut him off. "Go, Lord Wells. Return to your castle and refrain from provoking conflict until the shadow creature is defeated," hemanded firmly.


    Seething with rage, Wells red at Rhaegar before the cannibal''s low growl filled the air, signaling his displeasure. As dragon saliva sttered over Wells, the Dyre Denmander quickly stepped in and led him away from the scene.


    With the forces of the Dyre Den in retreat, Rhaegar turned his attention back to the task at hand and waited for everyone to leave.


    Sam nced up at the sky and extended an invitation to Rhaegar, "Prince, would you care to join us at The Whispers? The Crabb House would be honored to host you for a sumptuous dinner."


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow at the offer. It was a tempting offer, especially considering his recent focus on the shadow creature and the fatigue that apanied it.


    "If there is any surplus food in the Whispers, I would like to distribute it to the warriors of the Free Folk. Upon my return to King''s Landing, I will see to it that you are repaid twice," Rhaegar added, his tone sincere.


    Sam hesitated, weighing the request against the resources avable. Despite his reservations, the opportunity to forge a bond with the prince was too valuable to pass up.


    After a moment''s consideration, Sam nodded and conceded, "Certainly, the Whispers will provide food for the savages for three days. Any additional assistance will strain our resources, but we will try to amodate it."


    With over two thousand men in his army, Rhaegar knew the burden of his request. Still, he was grateful for Sam''s willingness to help.


    "Your generosity is greatly appreciated, my lord," Rhaegar acknowledged, relieved to have solved the immediate food shortage.


    As they prepared to leave for The Whispers Castle, Rhaegar found his opinion of Sam Crabb greatly enhanced, appreciating the lord''s willingness to extend hospitality despite the difficulties of it.

 Chapter 80: Dyre Den Castle

    Chapter 80: Dyre Den Castle


    The next morning, Rhaegar emerged from the embrace of a soft goose down bed, his brow furrowed with the fragmented memories of dreams he had had the night before.


    "Prince, Lord Sam awaits you in the breakfast room," a maid''s voice called from beyond the ornate stone bedroom.


    "I am aware of that," Rhaegar replied, rising to his feet with a trace of fatigue clinging to him.


    Throughout the night, his sleep had been interrupted by haunting visions. In one, Rhaenyra''s tear streaked face loomed before him, her grip on his hand tight as she voiced her concerns. In another, his father''s normally cid face was distorted with rage as he ordered severe punishments, heads impaled on spikes as reminders of his wrath.


    "Rest assured, I''ll be back soon," Rhaegar murmured to himself, determined to finish his mission and return to Dragonstone Ind once the threat of the Shadow Creature had been defeated.


    ...


    Rhaegar pushed open the door to find a young girl in a delicate silk gauze dress waiting for him.


    "Lady Yara, there was no need for you toe to inform me personally," Rhaegar remarked, acknowledging her presence with a nod.


    Yara offered a small smile. "Father assigned me that duty, Prince. It''s no trouble at all.""You are too kind," Rhaegar replied, returning her smile with one of his own.


    Indeed, Sam Crabb knew a thing or two about hospitality. The dinner he had arranged for Rhaegar the night before had been a pleasant experience, with good food and mildpany.


    They descended the stairs together to find Sam already seated at the table in the waiting room.


    "Prince," Sam greeted warmly as Rhaegar approached.


    Rhaegar returned the greeting and gestured for Sam to sit down, taking his own seat across from him.


    As they began to partake of the simple but exquisite meal, Rhaegar addressed the subject of the previous evening.


    "Lord Sam, what do you think of my proposal?" he asked.


    Sam paused thoughtfully before answering. "The Shadow Creature poses a grave threat to the penins, and the Crabb House stands ready to fight alongside you."


    He went on to outline theplicated dynamics of the region. "In the eastern part of the penins, controlled by the Brune and Crabb Houses, the presence of wildlings is scarce. If we are to confront the Shadow Creature and rally the scattered wildlings, cooperation between our two families is essential."


    Rhaegar, well-versed in history and politics, understood the importance of gaining the support of the local nobles. While the encounter with the Brune House had been less than favorable, the prospect of working with the Crabbs seemed promising.


    Sam''s willingness to offer assistance was evident, and Rhaegar gratefully epted.


    ...


    Breakfast ended, but Rhaegar remained unsure of how to confront the Shadow Creature.


    Sam, however, had a suggestion.


    "The ship where the Shadow Creature first appeared is still stranded on the beach. I didn''t dare approach it before, but now that you''re riding a dragon, I can try to investigate it," Sam suggested.


    After a moment''s thought, Rhaegar agreed, "Proceed as you think best, Lord Sam."


    With the n in motion, a hundred fully equipped soldiers were gathered from the Whispers, led by Sam himself.


    Meanwhile, Rhaegar ascended Cannibal the Dragon to oversee the operation from above.


    The wildling army remained on standby, stationed in the wilderness for the time being.


    As they traveled toward the beach, located along the coast, came into view after an hour''s journey.


    Upon reaching the beach, they spotted the stranded junk ship in the distance, the site of the Shadow Creature''s first appearance.


    "Cannibal,nd," Rhaegar ordered, motioning for Cannibal to descend onto the beach.


    The abandoned ship, battered by the elements,y in disrepair, its hull weathered and its mast partially broken.


    Sam dispatched ten soldiers to search the ship, paired off for safety, ready to alert the others at the slightest sign of danger.


    To their relief, the search revealed no threats.


    "The ship is empty," the soldiers reported upon their return.


    Rhaegar and Sam exchanged looks of disappointment.


    "Return to The Whispers and see if there are any developments among the wildlings," Rhaegar ordered, causing Cannibal to take flight again.


    A simple search had proved futile; a more strategic approach would be needed to draw out the Shadow Creature.


    ...


    At Rhaegar''smand, the Cannibal gracefully soared to the Whispers.


    Moments afternding, Rhaegar noticed a messenger on a white horse engaged in a heated argument with the guards at the walled gate.


    Confused, Rhaegar approached, his curiosity piqued by the unfolding scene.


    "Where do youe from as a messenger?" Rhaegar inquired, his brow furrowed in confusion.


    Seeing Rhaegar''s arrival atop the dragon, the messenger quickly disengaged from the guards and addressed him, "Prince, Ie from the Dyre Den. Please read this letter."


    " Dyre Den... House Brune?" Rhaegar murmured, his expression troubled. "What of Wells? I informed him of the temporary truce on the penins."


    "Lord Wells died!" the messenger dered, his face heavy with grief as he knelt before Rhaegar.


    "What?" Rhaegar''s voice cracked with disbelief, his mind struggling toprehend the sudden turn of events.


    The messenger continued, recounting the grim details: "After bidding you farewell yesterday, Lord Wells returned to the castle and secluded himself. No one dared approach him. When the maid entered his chamber this morning, she found him lifeless in his bed. There were no signs of external injury, but the Maester determined that blunt force trauma had prated his mouth, nose, and ears, causing fatal brain damage."


    Rhaegar''s mind raced as he processed the information, a shiver running down his spine at the implications.


    "The Shadow Creature..." he murmured, a sense of foreboding settling over him.


    Previously, the Shadow Creature had only targeted the savage tribes, but its brazen attack on a noble lord marked a dangerous esction.


    Shaking off his unease, Rhaegar decided, "From now on, we must all stay close to the Cannibal for safety."


    Determined to address the situation, Rhaegar epted the messenger''s letter and quickly scanned its contents.


    The letter exined Wells'' death, had an agreement for a truce with the Whispers, and an invitation to a banquet at the Dyre Den signed by Bart Brune, Wells'' brother.


    After reading the letter, Rhaegar instructed the messenger, "Wait here for Lord Sam. I will go on ahead."


    With a heavy heart and a sense of urgency, Rhaegar spurred the Cannibal on, heading straight for Dyre Den, whichy across from the Whispers. The two castles were built on the south and north shores of the eastern part of Crackw Point, separated by arge area of wilderness.


    Fortunately, the Cannibal is very fast, a half hour is enough for a round trip.


    As the sea breeze whipped around him, Rhaegar''s mind raced with the weight of impending danger, spurred on by the threat lurking in the center of Crackw Point.


    ...


    Rhaegar and his dragon soon arrived at the Dyre Den, a foreboding castle perched on a rugged mountaintop. The Cannibal circled the fortress before descending gracefully, its menacing roar echoing through the air as emerald mes erupted from its maw, signaling the arrival of a Targaryen prince.


    The soldiers stationed on the city walls, stunned by the imposing sight, wavered in their resolve.


    Looking down at the closed gates of Dyre Den Castle, Rhaegar awaited the lord.


    As expected, the sturdy wooden doors swung open to reveal a procession of finely dressed men and women emerging from within.


    In the forefront was a tall, slender youth reminiscent of thete Lord Wells.


    Close behind were a woman with a prominent red eye and a weathered, armored middle-aged man.


    As the Cannibalnded in the courtyard, the gathering of nobles found themselves face to face with both man and dragon, their astonishment palpable as they gazed upon the figure astride the dragon''s back.


    Recognizing Rhaegar as a representative of House Targaryen, the young man stepped forward and bowed respectfully. "Your Grace, Bart of House Brune, at your service."


    Rhaegar looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Your brother has died?"

 Chapter 81: The Truth

    Chapter 81: The Truth


    "Yes, he was killed in an attackst night," Bart said with a heavy heart before extending an invitation, "Prince, please let us host a wee feast in your honor."


    "Your brother''s departure makes such festivities unnecessary," Rhaegar said with a gentle shake of his head.


    Bart paused for a moment, unsure of what to say.


    The middle-aged man apanying him interjected, "Wells was a fool, and his passing doesn''t bother us. A Targaryen prince deserves far more than what he did."


    "In that case, maybe we could just take a quick tour of your ce?" Rhaegar suggested with a faint smile as he dismounted the dragon.


    With the Cannibal stationed outside, Rhaegar remained unfazed by any potential hostility from the assembled group.


    His status and the fact that he was there with the dragon meant that he was treated with respect, no doubt about it.


    Once he''d dismounted from the dragon''s back, Rhaegar was led into the castle by his hosts. The atmosphere was noticeably different from what it had been when Wells was there �C no trace of his former arrogance.


    Indeed, fools often met an early end, leaving behind survivors who, while not necessarily wise, had a certain level of prudence.Once they got inside the fortress, Rhaegar acted like a curious kid, asking Bart to show him around.


    Dyre Den Castle looked impressive from the outside, but the inside was pretty simple, just a three-story building with strong stone walls.


    After his brief exploration, Rhaegar retired to a waiting room to rest.


    As he sipped the juice the maid brought him, Rhaegar noticed Bart standing nearby and asked, "Ser, it seems you have something on your mind?"


    "Yes, Prince," Bart immediately took the lead in the conversation.


    He dropped to one knee, received a sword from his servant, and presented it with reverence, bowing his head as he spoke, "I''ve heard that House Crabb has pledged allegiance to you."


    "I, Bart Brune, representing House Brune, offer you our allegiance as well and await your response."


    Rhaegar tasted the grape juice, feigning curiosity as he remarked, "Ser, your brother''s death has already made you Lord of Dyre Den?"


    To pledge allegiance on behalf of the family required the authority of the lord, a position Bart had not yet officially assumed.


    "Not yet, but I''ve sent a raven to King''s Landing with the request and expect an answer soon," Bart replied, his forehead beading with cold sweat.


    Setting down his ss, Rhaegar shook his head gently, "I''m afraid, Ser, I cannot ept a lord''s allegiance without proper authority, nor can you swear it in your brother''s stead."


    "Prince..." Bart''s disappointment was obvious.


    The older man with him stepped in and scolded, "Enough, Bart. The honor of House Brune has already been tarnished by your brother''s actions."


    Bart bowed his head obediently and refrained from speaking further.


    Rhaegar''s attention shifted to the middle-aged man, noting that the emblem on his chest differed from House Brune''s. It was a brown bear''s w on a white background, bordered by two brown lines.


    Unable to recall the origin of the crest, Rhaegar inquired, "Ser, what house do you represent?"


    Sorrel Brune left Bart alone and said, "Sorrel Brune. I''m from the Brune branch of knightly families, and our territory is in Brownhollow."


    Rhaegar thought for a moment. "I see, the descendants of the Brune brothers, the famous conquerors of Crackw Point."


    After the meeting, Rhaegar leaned back in his seat and asked, "Ser, could you tell me what the real reason for your invitation is?" He didn''t think a simple letter of condolence was the only reason for summoning a prince.


    He tightened his smile and spoke solemnly, "This time, it''s Bart who''s extending the invitation to you, seeking your help in saving House Brune."


    "Interesting," Rhaegar''s interest was piqued.


    Sorrel continued, "Dyre Den is gued by a curse, born of Wells'' folly and greed."


    "The ship was from Qarth, but it had no business with House Brune."


    "It was returning from Braavos when it fell victim to a storm and washed ashore near Dyre Den, where it was found and rescued by local fishermen."


    "Wells, as the lord, questioned the captain and crew when he heard about the valuable cargo on board."


    "Driven by greed, Wells orchestrated a night raid on the ship, resulting in the ughter of the crew and mercenaries, save for one enigmatic figure��a ck-robed man in a red mask."


    "This man identified himself as a Shadowbinder from the Shadonds."


    Rhaegar''s expression changed, "A Shadowbinder! The mysterious figures of folklore?"


    "The leader of the raid dismissed it as mere legend and beheaded the Shadowbinder," Sorrel confirmed, his tone serious.


    "Did the Shadowbinder''s death end the curse?" Rhaegar pressed eagerly, his curiosity burning.


    Sorrel hesitated before answering, "Not quite. After the Shadowbinder died, his headless body turned into a shadowy specter."


    "It lurked in the darkness, following the soldiers back to Dyre Den, where it continued its deadly rampage, iming several lives that night.


    "For a time, the shadow seemed to disappear, leading Wells to believe that the curse had been lifted.


    "But it reappeared and imed his life."


    Sorrel''s ount of the incidentcked any sense of sadness for the fallen lord. Instead, it was filled with a strong sense of hatred.


    "So Wells lied to me. He knew about the Shadow Monster from the beginning," Rhaegar grimaced.


    Bart fell to his knees and pleaded, "He didn''t want to hide it. Intercepting and killing a passing merchant ship is a crime, and he didn''t dare..."


    "Since he knew it was a crime, he should not have taken the risk," Rhaegar interrupted sharply.


    Apparently, these two brothers were both fools. One was bold enough to face the consequences, while the other was too stubborn to admit when they were wrong.


    Rhaegar''s anger red. "The curse was wrought by the crimes of Dyre Den and has stained all of Crackw Point. That alone warrants Wells'' head a dozen times over. And you, you should be thinking about how to atone for those sins."


    "Should we... report this to the king?" A timid woman spoke.


    Rhaegar''s gaze,cking warmth, shifted to Bart and Sorrel.


    Bart quickly interjected, "She is my brother''s wife."


    "Do you propose to report this matter?" Rhaegar asked, his tone measured.


    After days of nonstop travel, Rhaegar was feeling the effects of his journey. But he just couldn''t bring himself to ask his father for help. He figured he could handle this on his own now that he''d mastered the Cannibal. It was his adventure with the dragon.


    "Of course not," Sorrel, the oldest and most thoughtful of them, answered first.


    Bart quickly followed up, pointing out that House Brune''s honor would remain tarnished until the curse was lifted.


    Rhaegar shrugged and let out a sigh. "All right, you''re wearing me out."

 Chapter 82: Notes of the Forest Witch

    Chapter 82: Notes of the Forest Witch


    The Brune House finally revealed its secrets, and the truth came out.


    "You''ve had dealings with the Shadowbinders in your family. Any thoughts on how to resolve this?" Rhaegar studied them closely.


    Bart swallowed nervously before answering, "Not exactly, but the head of the Shadowbinder who was killed is still kept in the castle for safekeeping."


    The headless body of the Shadowbinder had undergone a strange transformation.


    Wells realized the significance of the head, so he had his soldiers retrieve it.


    "Take me to see it," Rhaegar said firmly.


    "As you wish, Prince," Bart agreed, leading Rhaegar to the attic on the sunlit side of the castle.


    The attic was pretty deste and covered in dust, except for a circle of tallow candles casting light on a single object in the center: a pale, white head.


    "This is our defense against the curse. By illuminating the head with candles, we prevent the curse from taking hold of it," Bart exined."And the shadow creature tried to take the skull?" Rhaegar asked, his brow furrowed in curiosity as he surveyed the eerie sight.


    "Not exactly. The creature seems tock intelligence; we take this measure only as a precaution," Bart exined respectfully.


    Before Rhaegar could fully absorb the disturbing sight before him, the creaking of stairs echoed from below.


    Sorrel hurried up to the attic, his expression urgent as he delivered the news: "Prince, there''s arge group of wildlings surrounding the castle. They im allegiance to you."


    Rhaegar''s surprise was obvious.


    "Yes, I''ve put together a group of free folk and they pledged their allegiance to me, seeking refuge from the shadow monsters that roam thends."


    Grateful for Sorrel''s initiative, Rhaegar turned to descend the stairs and instructed, "Keep an eye on the head; it maye in handy."


    Bart nodded earnestly, "Yes, Prince."


    With a quick nce at Bart, Sorrel followed Rhaegar down the stairs.


    ...


    As Rhaegar left the castle, he heard the wildlings howling.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal, sensing his approach, lowered his body and offered his back for Rhaegar to mount.


    "Head for the walls," Rhaegar said briefly, settling on the Cannibal''s sturdy spine.


    To Sorrel''s astonishment, the ck dragon lurched forward, spreading its massive wings to take flight.


    Outside the castle walls, a huge crowd of wildlings was waiting.


    Some looked scared, while others had the scars of recent battles on them.


    As Cannibal circled overhead, his presence caused the wildlings to scatter and fall to their knees in awe.


    With a loud thud, Cannibalnded on the ground, his green eyes looking calm and uninterested.


    Perched on the dragon''s back, Rhaegar surveyed the scene below and asked, "What brings you here? Why have you gathered?"


    Amidst the crowd of wildlings, a towering figure emerged, blood seeping from a gash in his shoulder.


    "Prince, we were searching for other tribes when we were ambushed by a the creature. Many of us were wounded," Trangal exined, his voice strained with pain.


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened in surprise. "How many casualties and howrge has the shadow monster grown?" he asked.


    Trangal grimaced. "Nearly a hundred of our warriors and over three hundred of the local tribe. The shadow creature covers arge area. If it weren''t for the bonfire that inadvertently thwarted its advance, our escape would have been perilous."


    Rhaegar''s concern deepened. "Can we track the Shadow Creature?" he asked eagerly.


    "I''m afraid not," Trangal replied with a heavy heart. "The creature is avoiding capture, lurking in the shadows beyond our reach."


    Rhaegar furrowed his brow as he considered their next move. He realized that their enemy was hard to find. "We need to act fast," he said aloud, thinking through different ways to deal with it.


    Meanwhile, Sorrel, stationed on the city wall, overheard their conversation and voiced his concern. "Prince, if left unchecked, that cursed creature will continue to threaten the penins," he warned.


    Acknowledging the gravity of the situation, Rhaegar nodded thoughtfully. "Prepare provisions for our guests," he instructed, "and send word to Lord Sam. We will need his counsel to formte a n."


    As he spoke, Rhaegar could feel the weight of his responsibility bearing down on him.


    Although he was young, he knew that it was important to get advice from someone who knew what they were doing when things were unclear.


    ...


    At noon, Sam Crabbe rushed toward Dyre Den with a group of soldiers, relieved to see Cannibal''s towering silhouette in the distance.


    Entering the fortress with a sense of urgency, he was greeted by Bart, who had been expecting his arrival.


    Sam was pretty upset when he heard about Wells'' death and the Prince''s unexpected visit.


    In the waiting room, Sam''s meeting with Bart and Sorrel was pretty tense, given that they had a lot of history and a lot of bad blood between them.


    Upon discovering Wells'' treachery in killing the Shadowbinder and stealing his farnd, Sam''s anger only intensified.


    Feeling deeply wronged by Wells'' actions, Sam seethed with resentment and humiliation.


    Unable to remain a silent observer, Rhaegar intervened.


    When Bart took control of the Dyre Den, he offered a profuse apology on Wells''s behalf, along with doublepensation for the confiscated farnd and a thousand gold dragons.


    Although he was still unhappy, Sam reluctantly epted House Brune''spensation, mindful of the looming threat of the Shadow Creature and the Prince''s authority.


    After all, Wells is already dead, and it is not a good decision to fight House Brune for no reason.


    As the meeting got more and more heated, Rhaegar and his advisors gathered around the council table toe up with a n to deal with the Shadow Creature.


    Sorrel''s idea was pretty straightforward: "We''ve got about ny percent of the wildlings on the penins gathered up. We could use some of them as bait in the wilderness."


    Trangal''s response was venomous: "ck-hearted bastard, why don''t you use your old man as bait?"


    Sorrel''s retort was equally aggressive: "Foolish savage, allowing you to enter the castle is already a generous gesture; don''t provoke me into severing your head."


    Trangal''s taunt escted the tension. "Let''s see if I can''t take your head off first and use it as a wine jug."


    Rhaegar was getting pretty annoyed, so he bellowed, mmed his fist down on the table, and shot them a stern re to stop their argument.


    As the room fell silent, Rhaegar was pretty annoyed at the way his advisors were arguing with each other.


    "What''s with all the bickering?" he asked, his frustration evident in his tone.


    The two opponents snorted in disdain, each turning their heads defiantly, unwilling to back down.


    Sam, who had been watching the exchange from the sidelines, stood up to speak to the prince after the argument had died down. "Prince, the curse seems to be magic-rted. Perhaps we could use simr magic to fight it."


    "Magic is dangerous. Who among us has the knowledge of such arts? Aside from dragonfire I can''t think of anything else." Rhaegar asked.


    With a confident grin, Sam stepped forward. "Prince, you must have heard of my ancestor, rence Crabb. He was a legendary hero who unified Crackw Point and left behind extraordinary stories."


    "For example, do you know the origin of Whispers Castle, which belongs to the Crabb House?"


    Rhaegar''s face clouded with confusion. He wasn''t well versed in such history. He looked to Bart for more information.


    Understanding the hint, Bart borated, "The legend speaks of rence''s great power and his wife, rumored to be a forest witch. It''s said that for every person rence killed, a severed head was brought home."


    "The forest witch would then kiss these skulls, bringing them back to life, and they became rence''s silent advisors."


    "Since they didn''t have any vocal cords, they could onlymunicate in whispers, which is why the castle is called that."


    Rhaegar''s eyes sparkled with intrigue as he turned to Sam. "Lord Sam, are you familiar with such magical practices?"


    The idea of resurrected heads was indeed rare and intriguing.


    Sam cleared his throat, his tone subdued. "We cannot replicate the feats of our ancestors."


    "We can''t?" Rhaegar''s disappointment was palpable. What was the point of mentioning it if it couldn''t be replicated?


    Sam added, "I don''t know anything about magic, but the Forest Witch''s notes on it are still in the Whispers."


    "Those notes were written in Valyrian, anguage that''s no longer spoken in our family. However, since you��re of ancient Valyrian descent, perhaps you could decipher them."


    "Would you be willing to share these priceless magical texts?" Rhaegar''s youthful demeanor changed to one of seriousness.


    "It''s not like there''s a shortage of people who know about magic. There are ult studies at the Citadel, but they''ve never really proven useful."


    As he exined, Sam got up from his seat and started to move around the room.


    Kneeling before Rhaegar, he spoke with reverence, "Yet I remain hopeful, Prince, that I can assist you in restoring peace to the penins and achieving unrivaled greatness."

 Chapter 83: Marsh Marigolds

    Chapter 83: Marsh Marigolds


    Rhaegar looked at Sam Crabb with a thoughtful expression, as if he was trying to decide what to say.


    The man''s unwavering loyalty was both admirable and a bit of a challenge.


    But as he kept thinking about it, the Forest Witch''s arcane knowledge started to look pretty appealing.


    If these notes held the key to defeating the shadow creature, they might also open a path for him to delve into the mysteries of magic.


    Who wouldn''t want to have such mystical powers at their disposal?


    Taking a deep breath, Rhaegar said, "Lord Sam, I think the contents of these notes could be really useful. I''ll give your request some thought."


    "Yes, Prince."


    Sam''s astonishment was evident in his eyes as he replied with equal gravity, "May the glory of heroes shine upon you. I sense that you will be the new hero of Crackw Point."


    "I hope so."Rhaegar''s smile was faint as he murmured, "Time is of the essence. We must move quickly. First, we must retrieve the Forest Witch''s notes."


    "Lord Sam, since our time is short. I will ride Cannibal to The Whispers Castle. Can you tell me to the location of the notes?"


    Without hesitation, Sam replied, "They''re stored in the basement of the castle. Ask Yara for help. She''ll show you where they are."


    "Very well. I will leave immediately."


    With his mind on defeating the shadow creature, Rhaegar told Trangal to deal with the wildlings outside the city walls. Then, he rode Cannibal towards the Whispers on the southern coast.


    ...


    The Cannibal reached its destination in just ten minutes,nding gracefully at the castle gates. The guards stepped forward to salute, recognizing the dragon rider.


    As Sam''s children emerged from the castle to greet him, Rhaegar exchanged brief pleasantries before seeking out the young girl, Yara.


    Though initially confused by his request, Yara, ever the resilient daughter of the Crackw Point, wasted no time in leading Rhaegar down to the castle''s basement.


    Descending through two levels, one well-lit and the other shrouded in darkness, they reached their destination.


    With the flicker of an oilmp, Yara illuminated the dim surroundings, revealing an eerie room filled with various objects and boxes. In one corner sat a desk decorated with an array of skulls.


    "This is it, Prince," Yara murmured softly, making her way to the desk and lighting arge candle.


    Though taken aback by the strange sight, Rhaegar steeled himself and approached the table, noticing a wooden box resting on it.


    Yara pulled a key from one of the skulls and unlocked the box, revealing a thin, yellowed book inside. With great care, she handed it to Rhaegar and cradled it in his hand.


    As Rhaegar epted the book, he felt the smooth texture of parchment beneath his fingertips and realized it was no ordinary paper.


    "Let''s step outside, Prince," Yara suggested, noting his difort in the dimly lit cer.


    "Agreed. Let''s go outside," Rhaegar replied.


    As they walked, Rhaegar studied the Forest Witch''s notes, his brow furrowing with each line he deciphered.


    The writing was indeed Valyrian, but it was a far cry from the traditional High Valyrian of the Targaryen family. It was a mixture of various dialects, interspersed with bothmon and obscure scripts, creating a tangled web of words.


    Fortunately, Rhaegar''s knowledge of Valyrian allowed him to make sense of the jumbled text, though it would have been dizzying for anyone else trying to read it.


    "Nature Magic... Flower of Life... Dead Man''s Murmur..."


    By the time he came out of the cer, Rhaegar had read the whole book, which was only a few pages long.


    The book was pretty slim, with just three spells and some basic info on nature magic. Of the three spells, Rhaegar could only fully understand one: the Forest Witch''s "Dead Man''s Murmur," a spell that can resurrect severed heads.


    The other two spells were harder to get. One spell involved animal shapeshifting, which required an innate ability that most humans don''t have. The third spell focused on connecting with the essence of nature, which meant having a deep understanding of the natural world.


    Mastering these spells would require not only a deep understanding, but also an innate talent for natural magic��which is a challenge even for someone like Rhaegar.


    "Luckily, Dead Man''s Murmur is pretty straightforward. It doesn''t require any special talent, just certain materials," Rhaegar said thoughtfully.


    The magic was based on a unique substance: the Flower of Life. The Flower of Life has a powerful vitality that preserves the head from decay, allowing the spell to awaken the memories of the deceased.


    But there was one key difference: memory wasn''t the same as consciousness. The skull was able to speak, but it didn''t have any real intelligence. It was just a puppet, a hollow echo of the life it once held.


    This realization left Rhaegar with a sour taste in his mouth. He recoiled from the idea of manipting corpses for personal gain, finding it morally repugnant.


    "What a despicable form of magic," Rhaegar muttered, his brow furrowed in disgust.


    This wasn''t the kind of magic he was looking for. He was drawn to the awe-inspiring magic mes or great swords, the magic of heroes and warriors.


    "No wonder the Citadel shuns such practices; they only breed corruption," he mused, his disappointment evident as he handed the book back to Yara.


    "Did you not like the contents?" Yara inquired, her tone soft.


    "Valuable knowledge, perhaps, but not the kind I seek," Rhaegar replied with a shake of his head.


    Still, he formted a n.


    The Shadowbinder''s head stayed put in the Dyre Den.


    If he could revive it, there might be a chance to gain insight into how to fight the shadow creature.


    Turning to Yara, Rhaegar asked, "Do you know anything about the Flower of Life?"


    He had memorized the incantation for Dead Man''s Murmur, but the spell required a crucialponent: the Flower of Life.


    Yara''s expression turned curious as she gestured to the family banner that adorned the wall of the waiting room. "Prince, our emblem - the Marsh Marigold - is also known as the Flower of Life."


    Rhaegar nced back, taking in the intricately wrought golden flower - a stark contrast to its origins in the murky swamp.


    "I had assumed it was just amon marsh orchid," Rhaegar admitted in surprise.


    Yara exined with a smile, "While marsh marigolds may resemble orchids, they have a distinct coloration and thrive in different environments."


    "The marsh marigold, said to be hardy and teeming with vitality, is hailed as the flower of life."


    Undeterred, Rhaegar pressed on. "Where might one find it?"


    Yara shook her head. "Marsh marigolds are extremely rare, thought to have disappeared over a century ago, probably driven to extinction."


    Rhaegar said, "If I go on an expedition on the dragon''s back through the swamps of the Penins, Is there any chance of finding one?"


    Yara gave a realistic assessment. "Given that half of the penins is covered by swamps and barely inhabited, the chances of finding a Flower of Life in the middle of the swamps are pretty slim."


    "That''s fine," Rhaegar replied confidently, sounding sure of himself and his abilities. "As long as it''s still out there, there''s a chance."


    Then he turned to a more pressing matter. "Regarding the notes, please keep it safe, the Forest Witch was clearly good at natural magic."

 Chapter 84: The Shadow’s Approach

    Chapter 84: The Shadow��s Approach


    With a farewell to Yara, Rhaegar mounted the dragon and left the Whispers.


    ording to legend, thest sighting of a marsh marigold in the heart of the swamp, nestled in the center of Crackw Point, thergest swamp on the penins.


    The swamp was shrouded in a perpetual miasma and gued year-round by poisonous insects, so it had remained untouched by human presence for many years.


    Despite the swamp''s reputation, Rhaegar was determined to use his dragon to find the marsh marigold.


    As they neared the edge of the swamp, Rhaegar looked to the sky. The sun was still high; there was still time to find the flower and return to Dyre Den before nightfall.


    "Roar..."


    Hovering over the marsh, its vast expanse stretching endlessly below the edge of the sky, the Cannibal let out a low growl, expressing its reluctance to move forward.


    Rhaegar tenderly stroked the dragon''s scales and wondered aloud, "What is it, Cannibal?


    The dragon shook its head and pped its wings, signaling its difort."Do you think there might be something dangerous lurking in the swamp?" Rhaegar ventured a guess.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal''s tail lifted and tapped Rhaegar lightly on the shoulder.


    "Am I in danger here?" Rhaegar''s voice trailed off as he was frozen by the dragon''s warning.


    In response, the dragon flew over the swamp and directed a stream of dragonfire at a patch of mud.


    Boom!


    The explosion erupted in mid-air, dragonfire igniting gases and sending up a noxious st that churned the muck below.


    Rhaegar watched the show with a frown.


    "Is that... miasma?" He remembered the Maester''s lectures on the subject.


    The swamp air is pretty toxic, full of noxious gases, ready to burn if exposed to fire.


    The dragon''s me had identally set off the dangerous miasma.


    "Are you worried that I might breathe in the poisonous fumes?" Rhaegar thought for a moment, then ced a reassuring hand on the dragon''s spine.


    The Cannibal, who was more clever than he let on, knew what he was doing, his green eyes saying it all.


    "Have you crossed this swamp before?" Rhaegar asked, trying to figure out what the dragon was up to.


    "I''m looking for a particr hardy flower. Do you know where it is?" Rhaegar showed him the Crabb House crest, adorned with the distinctive marsh marigold.


    The Cannibal paused for a moment, then took the emblem in its mouth and spread its wings to lead Rhaegar on a new path, moving quickly and purposefully.


    In a matter of moments, Rhaegar and the Cannibal came to another corner of the swamp. This area was a mix of marsh and pine forest, with the marshes encroaching on the forest and creating a pretty unpleasantndscape.


    Here, the miasma was much weaker than in the heart of the swamp, which gave them a bit of a break from the noxious fumes.


    Cannibal nced back at Rhaegar and let out a low growl, as if to convey a message.


    Rhaegar understood the dragon''s silent warning and reached for a handkerchief from his bracelet, moisten it with water, and cover his mouth and nose.


    The dragon snorted in apparent discontent and motioned for Rhaegar to dismount. However, he seemed to bepletely unaware of the gesture.


    Cannibal lowered himself, prompting Rhaegar to reluctantlyply.


    The dragon moved over the swamp, its huge body brushing against the asional pine trees, snapping them like twigs as it moved.


    Its head swivelled back and forth, scanning thendscape as if searching for something.


    Rhaegar guessed that Cannibal must have encountered marsh marigolds before, probably during its time away from Crackw Point, when it had been nursing its wounds.


    During that time, Rhaegar didn''t know where the dragon was, but it seemed like Cannibal had looked for the Flower of Life before.


    As the dragon kept looking, not bothered by the bad smell, Rhaegar stayed on its back, resting a bit as it went up into the air. He was waiting for Cannibal to find the marsh marigold.


    With his mature instincts and keen senses, Cannibal would surely find the marsh marigold.


    But in the silent gloom of the swamp, Rhaegar couldn''t shake the uneasy feeling that he was being watched.


    "Cannibal, I have a bad feeling about this. Stay alert," he ordered, his senses heightened since the ambush at Dragonstone.


    Every rustle of leaves and sway of grass caught his attention.


    The Cannibal roared in response, acknowledging the warning, and its wing shifted subtly to reflect its heightened vignce.


    As they flew on, a sudden movement caught Rhaegar''s eye.


    Without hesitation, hemanded, "Dracarys!"


    At the same time, the Cannibal unleashed a stream of me that engulfed the shadow tentacle that lunged at them like a snake.


    With a sizzling sound, the tentacle disintegrated into viscous droplets upon contact with the dragonfire, falling harmlessly to the ground.


    Rhaegar quickly identified the source and turned the Cannibal''s fire on a decrepit pine tree, reducing it to charred remains in moments.


    But the elusive shadow tentacles remained hidden, vanishing without a trace.


    As Rhaegar and the Cannibal considered their next move, shadow tentacles suddenly appeared from all directions, encircling them like a tightening noose.


    Cannibal reacted quickly by pping his powerful wings and soaring upward, avoiding the attack.


    From above, jets of green dragonfire cascaded down, engulfing the shadows below, reducing them to ashes in an instant.


    Surveying the aftermath with a grave expression, Rhaegar remained vignt, expecting more attacks from the Shadow Creatures.


    But to his surprise, none came.


    With a firm nod, Rhaegar refocused on their main goal.


    "Cannibal, let''s move on. Let''s focus on finding the marsh marigold first."


    Cannibal agreed and turned in a new direction, acknowledging theck of immediate danger.


    There were lots of swamps in Crackw Point, and each one could hide treasures beyond belief.


    ...


    As the sun set, casting a warm glow over thendscape, Cannibal led Rhaegar through several small swamps until they reached one near a rushing stream.


    A macabre scene unfolded before them: a carpet of white bones covered the swamp, the remains of wild beasts drawn to the water''s edge by the poisonous miasma.


    With a loud thud, Cannibalnded in the middle of the eerie scene, his huge weight crushing a few pine trees under his huge talons.


    Amid the devastation, Rhaegar caught sight of smothing��a marsh marigold blooming on a patch of green stone.


    "Cannibal, you''ve outdone yourself," Rhaegar murmured, awed by his dragon''s keen senses.


    Cannibal shot a disdainful look at him, as if to say, "That''s easy, ignorant boy."


    Ignoring this, Rhaegar descended from Cannibal''s back and traversed the gnarled roots and sinking pine trunks to reach the precious flower.


    Navigating over the sunken pine logs and through the muddy terrain, Rhaegar approached the patch of green stone where the marsh marigold thrived. With gentle hands, he cradled the flower''s rhizome.


    "Rare specimen detected, containing traces of magical essence. Initiating analysis..."


    The system''s prompt echoed in Rhaegar''s mind, letting him know that it had sessfully detected the flower''s unique properties.


    With bated breath, Rhaegar studied the flower, his excitement palpable. "Who knew such a humble ce held an opportunity for exploration?"


    He quickly essed his system interface and examined the newfound discovery.


    [Flower of Life]


    Exploration progress: 0.5%

 Chapter 85: Life Essence

    Chapter 85: Life Essence


    "The initial exploration progress is low, so it seems the quality of the marsh marigold flower isn''t bad," Rhaegar mused, assessing the situation.


    With his experience in exploration, he eagerly reached out to pluck the flower, anticipating its potential.


    But before his fingers could grasp it, a sinister shadow tentacle lunged out of the darkness, catching him off guard.


    In the blink of an eye, Cannibal''s tail intercepted the attack, severing the tentacle in one swift motion.


    Reacting quickly, Rhaegar grabbed the marsh marigold and retreated hastily.


    Once again, the shadow tentacles closed in on them, prompting Cannibal to unleash a torrent of dragonfire in defense.


    But in the midst of the chaos, a new threat emerged.


    A headless figure emerged from the shadows, wielding a steel spike and pierced Cannibal''s tail with rming precision.


    The dragon''s blood sizzled as it struck the searing metal, filling the air with a pungent scent.The headless figure stuffed the steel spike stained with dragon''s blood into its stomach and turned around without moving.


    As Rhaegar locked eyes with the enigmatic figure, a shiver ran down his spine, sensing an unnerving connection between them.


    Stter...


    In the next moment, Cannibal recoiled in pain from the blow to his tail and quickly swatted the headless figure away with a flick of his tail.


    As the shadow silhouette dispersed, the tentacles lurking in the darkness vanished one by one, along with the steel spike hidden in the headless apparition''s stomach.


    Rhaegar quickened his pace toward Cannibal, mbering onto the dragon''s back with urgency, the marsh marigold clutched tightly in his pocket.


    "Let''s go, Cannibal!" he urged, a feeling of unease gnawing at him.


    The encounter with the headless figure had left him unsettled, defying the typical behavior of the shadow creature.


    They were usually mindless creatures, driven by instinct alone. But this one felt different, almost human.


    Rhaegar''s mind raced as he considered the implications, his unease growing with each passing moment.


    Sensing his rider''s apprehension, Cannibal wasted no time, pping its powerful wings to rise into the sky, putting distance between them and the disturbing sight below.


    As they ascended, Rhaegar''s thoughts raced, pondering the possibility that the shadow monster had evolved, gained intelligence beyond its primal instincts.


    ...


    Late at night, Rhaegar guided Cannibal in a slow hover over Dyre Den, taking his time before descending.


    "This exploration isplete, please retrieve the lost treasure," he heard the familiar beep of the system.


    Rhaegar eagerly checked the survey report.


    [Flower of Life]


    Progress of exploration: 100%


    "It''s finally done, just in time," Rhaegar sighed with relief, quietly celebrating thepletion of his exploration.


    Instead of heading straight back to Dyre Den Castle after leaving the Swamp Forest, he took a detour to The Whispers. There, he briefed Yara on the situation, advising her to increase patrols and fortify defenses against possible attacks by shadow creatures.


    At the same time, he mobilized a portion of the wildling army stationed nearby and instructed them to assemble at Dyre Den.


    After a day of activity, they finally returned to Dyre Den.


    "Now let''s see what treasures the Marsh Marigold has yielded," Rhaegar said, cupping the golden flower in his arms as he activated the exploration reward.


    A shimmering purple light emerged from the exploration and settled on Cannibal''s back in the form of a small, coconut-sized mass.


    "Purple... It''s supposed to be epic level, right?" Rhaegar wondered aloud, his excitement palpable as he reached out to touch the glowing light.


    When he made contact, a cascade of bright purple sparks erupted, apanied by the familiar beep of the system.


    "Relic sessfully detected..."


    "Detection sessful, determined to be an epic relic, Cannivorous Flower."


    "Great, it''s really an epic level reward, second only to legendary," Rhaegar eximed, a broad grin spreading across his face at the prospect of their newfound discovery.


    Immediately after, Rhaegar examined the text clues on the quest interface.


    "Rooted in death but blossoming with the light of life."


    Scowling, Rhaegar pondered the cryptic message.


    "Cannivorous Flower... Death and life..."


    He examined the delicate folower in his hand, sensing that its activation must involve some intery of life and death.


    After much deliberation, Rhaegar gave the order tond.


    Cannibal gracefully folded its wings and settled outside the city walls.


    The wildling army gathered, kneeling in reverence as Rhaegar approached.


    "Do you have any freshly hunted animals? Bodies will do," Rhaegar inquired.


    "Yes, Prince," a newly inducted member of the Crab w tribe replied eagerly, scurrying off to retrieve a stag carcass.


    Dismounting from the dragon''s back, Rhaegar ced the Cannivorous Flower on the carcass.


    A faint glow emanated from the flower.


    In an instant, the stag''s body disintegrated into a pile of dry bones, a spectacle that sent shivers down the spines of onlookers.


    Even Rhaegar himself was taken aback.


    He had not anticipated the flower''s insatiable appetite.


    It seemed to demand more victims, its glow lingering as if demanding more.


    Quickly, Rhaegar ordered more animal carcasses to be brought forth, each meeting the same fate as thest.


    Fortunately, after several sacrifices, the flower seemed satiated.


    Its glow faded, apanied by the familiar beep of the system.


    "Congrattions, Cannivorous Flower has been activated. You have received..."


    [Life Essence].


    Grade: Epic (Purple)


    Effects: Majestic vitality, stimtestent talents.


    Evaluation: "Cannot be consumed by non-magical creatures!"


    The flower''s stamen withered, releasing a single drop of golden dew thatnded in Rhaegar''s palm.


    Examining the quest interface, Rhaegar''s eyes widened in astonishment.


    "Increasing vitality and talent... What an extraordinary ability."


    Reading the special notation in the evaluation column, Rhaegar shook the dewdrop and couldn''t help but marvel.


    Even as a human with the Dragonlord''s bloodline, he had no innate magical abilities. He was not a magical creature and could not benefit from the effects of the dewdrop.


    He nced back at Cannibal, who returned his gaze with great interest.


    The dragon''s green eyes seemed to appraise the dewdrop in Rhaegar''s hand.


    Stepping forward, Rhaegar raised his palm and smiled, "Here, Cannibal, this is your well-deserved reward."


    Cannibal had yed a crucial role in finding the marsh marigold, so the dewdrop belonged to him.


    Cannibal stared at the dewdrop intently, then lowered himself and let out a low roar, bringing his dragon''s snout closer to the ground.


    "Catch."


    Rhaegar chuckled and tossed the dewdrop into Cannibal''s mouth.


    In an instant, the tiny dewdrop dissolved in Cannibal''s abyssal mouth, swallowed along with his saliva.


    Swallow~~


    Cannibal swallowed obediently and lifted his head, shaking it slightly.


    Rhaegar watched Cannibal, looking for any changes.


    "Roar..."


    Apparently tired of Rhaegar''s scrutiny, Cannibal flicked his tail and rolled it up, cing him on his spine.


    Then, without further ado, it soared over the outer walls of the castle.


    "Well, it looks like the dewdrop hasn''t taken effect yet," Rhaegar muttered, gripping the dragon''s scales tightly and feeling a tinge of disappointment.


    ...


    The Cannibal settled outside the castle walls, his eyes closed in rest.


    Rhaegar was weed through the gates of Dyre Den Castle, a marsh marigold tucked safely in his pocket. Despite thete hour, the castle''s inhabitants showed no signs of sleep. Fear of the attempted assassination of their lord kept them alert and on edge.


    Entering the waiting room, Rhaegar found Sam, Sorrel, and Bart waiting anxiously. Sam was the first to speak, his voice tinged with relief and concern. "By the seven hells! You''ve returned safely atst. We feared the worst when you didn''t arrive in time."

 Chapter 86: Shadowbinder

    Chapter 86: Shadowbinder


    Rhaegar gently declined Sam''s greeting and began to exin, "There was an incident on the journey, but it did not impede our progress."


    Sam''s eyes darted between Rhaegar and the marsh marigold, his curiosity evident. "What happened? And why do you have our family crest flower with you?"


    With nothing to hide, Rhaegar recounted his experiences, from deciphering the Forest Witch''s notes to finding the marsh marigold.


    As they listened, the faces of those gathered grew increasingly tense. It was amazing how much could change in just ten hours of separation.


    Sorrel focused intently on the marsh marigold. "Prince, magic has been absent for so long. Are you sure the spells the Forest Witch left behind still work?"


    Rhaegar replied unperturbed, "There is only one way to find out. We must try. The steps of the Deadman''s Murmur are not overlyplex; it''s a matter of having the right ingredients and perhaps a touch of talent."


    "If I fail, perhaps one of you can try."


    He climbed the stairs to the attic, his anticipation palpable. "The key to activating spells lies in the mind. I may not have high hopes for sess with the Deadman''s Murmur spell, but we won''t know until we try."


    "You speak wisely, Prince," Sorrel acknowledged, exchanging a nce with Bart before following Rhaegar to the attic.Sam trailed behind, his gaze fixed on the marsh marigolds with unbridled curiosity.


    ...


    In the cer, the Shadowbringer''s head remained in the center of a circle of candles.


    Rhaegar stepped carefully over the candles and ced the marsh marigold atop the skull. He instructed his servant to fetch some dove''s blood and follow the procedure outlined in the Forest Witch''s notebook to paint the skull.


    Then he took out a piece of paper with the tranted spell. Though he despised it, he recited it anyway, driven by the hope of vanquishing the shadow monsters.


    "At... Gugino..."


    His recitation was strange, but his demeanor remained calm, as if he was reading from an ordinary book. The skull before him, however, showed no reaction.


    "It didn''t work?" Rhaegar frowned, ncing back at Sam and the others before attempting the spell again.


    This time, as he recited it, Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed slightly, his focus unwavering as he recited the spell with reverence.


    Buzz...


    The marsh marigold began to flicker with a shimmering light, coinciding with the cessation of Rhaegar''s voice.


    Suddenly, an intense heat surged through his limbs and his body temperature soared. His pale skin flushed red, wisps of white smoke curling from his body as if he were emerging from a steaming basket.


    Whew...


    A sh of fire engulfed Rhaegar''s hands, reducing the paper to ash in an instant, the remains drifting to the ground.


    His eyes widened in shock, and he stepped back as if recoiling from the sudden heat coursing through his body.


    "Is my blood boiling?" He muttered, the realization dawning on him as he felt the intense heat coursing through his limbs.


    Sam''s voice broke through his confusion, tentative yet filled with wisdom. "Prince, I once heard my grandmother say that magic is a manifestation of choice. With dragon blood coursing through your veins, it''s only natural that you would reject the necromantic magic that seeks to raise the dead."


    Rhaegar looked at him skeptically. "Do you know thews of magic?"


    "No," Sam admitted, shaking his head. "I have never been exposed to magic, only the legends of the witches of the forest, passed down through generations."


    "Would you like to try, Lord Sam?" Rhaegar challenged, stepping out of the circle of candles. Magic was a fragmented puzzle lost to time, and his expectation of failure left him unfazed. But Sam''s answer hinted at something more.


    Sam hesitated before answering, his expression a mixture of eagerness and uncertainty.


    "Old Sam, if you are willing, try. You carry the blood of the Forest Witch within you, perhaps it will respond to your touch!" Sorrel interjected, his tone cool andmanding.


    Sam reluctantly agreed, his eagerness barely concealed beneath his facade. "Fine, I''ll try it."


    Observing his demeanor, Rhaegar couldn''t help but see through Sam''s true intentions. Nevertheless, he gave him a new trantion of the spell and urged him to memorize it.


    As a nobleman from Crackw Point, Sam''s reading skills werecking, so he needed Rhaegar''s help to learn the short incantation.


    The trial began.


    Sam stepped into the circle of candles, holding the skull and marsh marigold in one hand and the trantion in the other.


    With cracked lips, he began to recite the incantation. "Atta... gujino..."


    His voice, thick and trembling with excitement, filled the attic, but when the incantation ended, there was no response.


    Disappointment clouded Sam''s expression as he stood frozen, the weight of failure evident in his posture.


    He rested his head on the floor and sighed heavily. "Prince, it seems I have failed as well."


    Rhaegar offered words offort, acknowledging the dormancy of magic over the years. "It''s all right, Sam. It''s only natural for ordinary people to struggle with magic."


    Turning to Sorrel with a wry smile, he continued, "We need to explore other avenues."


    Sorrel nodded in agreement, his expression grim.


    Just then, a chilling voice pierced the air, sending shivers down their spines.


    The Shadowbinder''s head stirred, its pale skin glowing with an eerie reddish hue. His closed eyes fluttered open, revealing a zed, disturbing gaze as he muttered iprehensibly.


    At the same time, the marsh marigold wilted, its vibrant petals fading until only the rhizome remained, attached to the skull, sustaining its life.


    Sam, pale with fear, stumbled backward, nearly losing his bnce.


    Bart, visibly shaken, trembled in silence.


    "Lord Sam, you did it!" Rhaegar eximed, taking a cautious step back to stand behind Sorrel.


    He had had enough of these bizarre events and wanted no part of whatever the talking head had in store.


    Enough was enough.


    Sam stared at the living skull, disbelief etched into every line of his face. He pped himself twice, as if seeking confirmation of the truth, before turning tentatively to Rhaegar. "Prince, is it possible that it was I who brought this skull back to life?"


    Even as he asked the question, Sam found it hard to believe that such a miraculous feat could be aplished with just a few words of magic.


    Rhaegar, avoiding Sam''s gaze, offered a spective answer. "Who knows? Perhaps you have atent talent for magic."


    Then he gave instructions. "The Shadowbinder''s head retains memories of his past life. Let''s ask how to resolve this situation with the shadow creature."


    Nodding shakily, Sam stepped to the edge of the candle circle, his voice trembling as he addressed the skull. "Tell us of your origins and why your remains have be a curse upon us."


    The skull rattled its mouth, its eyes fixed on the small group as if delving into forgotten memories. After a long silence, it uttered a faint, barely audible murmur. "The ebb and flow of magical tides, depleted yet potent..."


    Impatient for answers, Sam continued his questioning, urging the skull to provide rity on the curse''s invocation and its resolution.


    "I am a servant of the Lord of Light," the skull began, his voice weak. "A priest charged with predicting the fluctuations of magical energies. I sent my most elite Shadows to observe the changing world..."


    Increasingly frustrated by the cryptic answers, Sam interrupted tersely, "Get to the point, what''s the solution to the curse?"


    As Sam kicked the skull in frustration, a shiver ran down the spines of Rhaegar and the others. The skull''s unsettling words,bined with Sam''s actions, created an atmosphere of eerie dread that chilled them to the bone.

 Chapter 87: The Red Mask

    Chapter 87: The Red Mask


    "The individuals who devised such dark magic, including the Forest Witch, are truly despicable," Bart remarked, his voice trembling with anxiety. However, his words went unnoticed amidst the unfolding events.


    Meanwhile, the Shadowbinder head continued his chilling whispers, recounting the grim details of the curse''s origins.


    "The curse is etched into the flesh of the Shadow''s kin," he intoned, his voice filled with foreboding. "Upon their death, their souls are consigned to the embrace of the Cold God, the arbiter of mortal sins..."


    "He is the harbinger of death, stalking the living with relentless hunger, feasting on their shadows..."


    "His wrath can only be quenched by finding the token of the Lord of Light and returning it to his fallen servant."


    The revtion seemed to light up Sam''s face with anticipation as he eagerly inquired about the token needed to appease the curse''s wrath.


    "The token... My mask... Where is my mask?" the Shadowbinder''s head suddenly erupted, his demeanor changing erratically as he fixated on the subject of the mask.


    Understanding dawned on Rhaegar as he turned to address the group. "The Shadowbinder usually hides his identity behind a painted wooden mask, rarely revealing their true face."


    "Sorrel, do you know where the mask might be?" he asked.Sorrel nodded affirmatively. "The Shadowbinder''s mask is usually kept in the personal quarters of the former lord. It was considered a prized possession."


    Bart, eager to contribute, raised his hand. "My brother kept the mask in his private chamber. It was removed when the soldiers took his head as proof of their victory. He tucked it away in a secretpartment for safekeeping."


    "He always had a penchant for collecting trophies," Sorrel remarked with a hint of disdain, urging Bart to retrieve the mask immediately.


    Bart wasted no time in leaving the attic, seemingly relieved to escape the unsettling atmosphere.


    Meanwhile, Rhaegar''s gaze fell on Sam, who hovered around the Shadowbinder''s head with a mixture of fascination and apprehension.


    He persistently sought answers on how to defeat the shadow creature, while the skull''s ramblings became increasingly erratic, alternating between mentions of the Light of Light and something about magical tides.


    "Enough, at least I''ve gathered some clues," Rhaegar sighed, realizing the futility of further inquiry.


    But Sam seemed oblivious, his gaze fixed on the spinning skull, his fervor growing with each passing moment.


    "Something is wrong, Ser Sorrel!" Rhaegar''s tone betrayed concern as he called to the knight for help.


    Responding quickly, Sorrel charged into the circle of candles, stopping the head''s erratic movements with a powerful stomp before delivering a resounding blow to Sam''s face, rendering him unconscious.


    As Samy sprawled on the ground, Sorrel quickly tied the head securely with a belt and fastened a dagger beside it.


    With the taskplete, Sorrel hoisted the unconscious Sam onto his shoulders and nced back at Rhaegar.


    Their shared look conveyed a sense of deep resignation.


    Concerned for Sam''s well-being, Rhaegar asked anxiously, "Will Lord Sam be all right?"


    "Fear not, Prince. A mere magical trance, another blow will awaken him," Sorrel reassured, preparing to leave.


    Realizing the potential embarrassment of leaving Sorrel to handle the situation alone, Rhaegar stepped in and suggested, "Let Sam rest undisturbed. We''ll leave him in the care of his guards."


    With a nod of agreement, Sorrelplied, and they quickly left the attic, leaving Sam and the subdued head of the Shadowbinder behind. Rhaegar could not shake the chill he felt at the sight of the head and hastened his departure.


    ...


    The next day, a throng of people gathered outside the walls of Dyre Den, forming a formidable assembly. Among them were two hundred soldiers from the House of Brune, three hundred from the House of Crabb, and over two thousand free folk from the wildling army, each faction upying its designated area.


    Dominating the sky, a ck dragon spread its wings, casting an ominous shadow over half of the castle and serving as a stark reminder of the looming threat.


    Beneath the Cannibal''s towering form stood Rhaegar, d in gloves and clutching a red-painted mask. The mask, with its simple yet sinister design, held a great importance.


    Turning his gaze to Bart, who waited with his head bowed, Rhaegar gave a decisivemand: "Let us go."


    Bart hesitated, voicing his concern, "Prince, are we really abandoning the defenses of the castle to face the shadow in the field?"


    "Did the castle protect your brother from the shadow creature''s wrath?" Rhaegar''s answer hung heavy in the air, causing Bart to fall silent.


    After a night of deliberation, Rhaegar had decided to take proactive measures. With each kill, the shadow creature grew stronger, leaving no room for dy. Armed with the Shadowbinder''s head and the Red Mask Token, coupled with Cannibal''s formidable Dragonme, they had the means to confront it head on.


    Sorrel agreed with Rhaegar''s strategy. To him, the dragon embodied invincibility, capable of incinerating all manner of evil.


    Sam, now fully conscious, also regained hisposure. He found himself astride a horse, the Shadowbinder''s head in his hand, his gaze averting from the macabre head.


    Rhaegar''s n was to use the Shadowbinder''s head as bait, a risky gambit, but one that might yield results.


    "Let''s move!" Rhaegar''smand echoed as he mounted the Cannibal and hovered above the wildling army. His orders spurred the Crab ws into action, their ranks cheering as they brandished an array of weapons.


    For them, to fight alongside a dragon was an unparalleled honor.


    With Sorrel and Sam leading the way, the procession moved forward, their destination neither near nor far. Their path led to the clearing where the two houses had shed before, a vast expanse that provided ample room for the Cannibal''s fiery breath to wreak havoc.


    ...


    When they arrived at the clearing, the remnants of the recent battle were still there, evident in the bloodstains and the lingering scent of death. Sam''s gaze swept the area, his eyes shing with anger at Sorrel''s contingent. These bloodstains represented the lives of House Crabb soldiers sacrificed in the conflict.


    Sorrel, however, remained indifferent. What did the dispute between the Brunes and the Crabbs have to do with his branch, House Brune of Brownhollow? Were it not for the deaths within his fiefdom and the pleas of a distant rtive, Bart, he would not have intervened at all.


    As the cannibal descended upon the clearing, Rhaegar gave orders. "Surround the clearing with oil."


    "Understood, Prince," came the reply as House Brune soldiers set to work unloading barrels of oil from wagons.


    Shadow creatures feared fire, so Sorrel suggested surrounding the area with mes. Soldiers stood by, armed with ming arrows to aid the effort.


    Meanwhile, Sam sprang into action. He led several hooded prisoners forward, thrusting the skull into the arms of one and saying, "Survive and your sins will be forgiven."


    "Mask... my mask..." The skull''s incessant muttering sent shivers down the spines of the prisoners, one of whom copsed in terror, soiling himself.


    The head rolled to the ground, still muttering incoherently.


    Sam''s expression wavered between horror and dismay as he watched.


    Rhaegar turned away from the scene, his thoughts on the skull''s warning: the shadow creature would prey on the living. With nearly three thousand people present, the risk of attack was high. Essentially, all present were bait, but the prisoners were in greater danger.


    epting the grim reality, offering the prisoners a chance at redemption through survival was a more humane alternative to execution.


    With everything in ce, Rhaegar gave Cannibal a reassuring pat and gave the order: " Take flight!"


    Given the shadow creature''s recent abnormal behavior, it was clear that something had disrupted its usual fear of the dragon''s me. Still, if Rhaegar and Cannibal left the clearing, it would be easier to draw the shadow out.


    Instead of venturing far, they positioned themselves on a nearby mountain, ready to move in at the first sign of trouble below.

 Chapter 88: Shadow Wyrm

    Chapter 88: Shadow Wyrm


    As night fell, the n slowly unfolded.


    The soldiers and horses of the three factions in the open field went about their routines, building campfires and settling in as if preparing for a peaceful night.


    But beneath this facade of tranquility, tension simmered.


    As darkness enveloped thendscape, a multitude of campfires lit up, casting flickering shadows that danced across the ground.


    In the midst of this orchestrated chaos, the savage army began to stir, their primal chants rising into the night.


    It was all part of the ruse, a performance designed to draw out their prey.


    But amidst the frenzied dance of mes and shadows, a subtle dissonance emerged.


    The rhythm of the shadows diverged from the pulsing beat of the dance, a subtle shift not lost on the wildlings'' keen eyes.


    A ripple of unease spread through the ranks as they sensed the impending danger.In a swift and coordinated move, the wildlings stopped their celebration, their expressions now etched with a mixture of fear and anticipation.


    "Sound the rm!" Skr''s voice broke the tense silence as she quickly ignited an arrow and shot it into the night sky.


    Her actions spurred the others into action.


    With a chorus of shouts and the hiss of arrows cutting through the air, the savages prepared for battle, their weapons gleaming in the firelight.


    Meanwhile, the shadows, enraged by the disturbance, twisted and writhed with malevolent intent.


    Amidst the chaos, a serpentine tendril of shadowshed out, its razor-sharp tip piercing the throats of unsuspecting victims, snuffing out their lives in an instant.


    "Scatter! The Shadow is here!" The warning rang out, but for some it was toote.


    As the wildlings fell, panic swept through the remaining ranks, sending them scrambling for safety.


    But the shadow creature showed no mercy, its amorphous form coalescing into a grotesque creature with writhing tentacles, ready to strike at any moment.


    "Light the fire! Let''s burn this fiend!" Skr''s voice cut through the mor, her swift action inspiring courage in the face of danger.


    A brave soul, indeed, though her leadershipcked conviction.


    But it was Trangal, the burly warrior of the Craw w tribe, who emerged as the true hero, wielding a sturdy wooden club as he rallied the terrified wildlings.


    "Stand your ground! If any of you run, I''ll see to it that your heads are cut off!"


    His thunderous roar silenced the chaos, creating a semnce of order amid the turmoil as the wildlings steeled themselves for the battle ahead.


    On the other side of the battlefield, Rhaegar sat astride Cannibal''s back, patiently awaiting the signal and munching on sour wild fruit to replenish his strength.


    Suddenly, a faint flicker of fire streaked across the night sky, instantly drawing Rhaegar''s attention.


    He lifted his eyes, wondering if his senses had deceived him.


    Momentster, a cluster of mes burst into view, confirming his suspicion.


    "It''s time! Cannibal, let''s go!" Rhaegar''s voice crackled with determination as he urged his dragon into action.


    The impatient Cannibal roared in agreement, wings beating furiously as they descended from the mountain, hurtling toward the source of the fire.


    With only a few miles separating them, they quickly closed the gap, Cannibal''s powerful wings propelling them forward at incredible speed.


    As they approached the clearing, chaotic shouts and the growing mes greeted them from below.


    Rhaegar surveyed the scene, noting the shadow creature''s ominous growth.


    "Cannibal, ignite the surrounding oil," he ordered calmly, sticking to their carefully nned strategy.


    Positioning himself at the edge of the clearing, Cannibal unleashed a torrent of dragon me, engulfing the surrounding area in a fiery inferno.


    The moment the emerald dragon me touched the ground, it ignited the pre-poured oil in a spectacr disy.


    In an instant, the mes erupted from a single point and spread rapidly in all directions, enveloping the entire clearing in a ze that illuminated the night sky.


    Amidst the mes, the soldiers of all three factions stood in awe and disbelief, their apprehension reced by a newfound sense of security as they gazed upon the majestic sight of the ck dragon hovering above them.


    With the formidable creature at their side, their confidence soared, knowing that they had a powerful ally in this battle.


    "Roar..." Sensing the attention being directed his way, Cannibal''s emerald eyes gleamed with pride as he raised his head and let out a thunderous roar that echoed through the air.


    "Cannibal, Dracarys!" Rhaegar''s voice echoed with excitement as he gave themand.


    Boom...


    The emerald dragon me leapt forth, slicing through the darkened earth and colliding head-on with the writhing shadow creature.


    In an instant, the beast was sliced in half by the ferocious st of dragon breath.


    The crowd roared with excitement as they hailed the dragon''s might, their cheers echoing across the battlefield.


    Thousands of soldiers, stationed separately under the banners of House Brune and House Crabb, rushed forward in response, motivated by the dragon''s charge.


    Led by a vanguard of torch-wielding cavalrymen, they charged toward the shattered remnants of the Shadow Creature, intent on delivering the final blow.


    But just as victory seemed within reach, the situation took a sudden turn.


    The severed halves of the shadow creature began to twist and contort, each fragment giving rise to smaller shadows.


    A billowing cloud of inky ckness erupted from the twisted mass, enveloping the charging cavalry in its suffocating embrace.


    Screams pierced the air as the riders, consumed by the shadowy haze, met a swift end.


    "Roar..." The dragon''s roar echoed through the chaos, its emerald messhing out once more to sever another part of the shadow creature.


    But Rhaegar sensed something strange.


    The creature had deliberately disemboweled itself, sacrificing part of its body to escape the dragon''s mes.


    "What a cunning creature, Cannibal, strengthen the Dragon me!"


    With a primal growl, the Cannibal unleashed a torrent of searing green mes, engulfing the Shadow Creature in fire.


    Amidst the billowing ck smoke, the shadow creature continued to twist and turn, bursting into fleeting mes before it could touch the ground.


    With nowhere to hide from the fire, the creature''s form quickly shrank under the onught, teetering on the brink of destruction.


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, a sinister rumble pierced the air, apanied by a gust of wind that swept through the open space.


    Rhaegar''s eyes snapped to the source, his expression taut with unease.


    To his horror, the shattered pieces of the Shadow Creature had reassembled into a grotesque, bipedal, two-winged creature - a shadow wyrm.


    Its wings, shrouded in an eerie ck mist, bore the semnce of terrified faces, while its head, instead of that of a dragon, bore the grotesque visage of a one-eyed goat.


    In an instant, the shadow wyrmshed out at the nearby humans, its head and tail sweeping them aside as it lunged at the Cannibal with a menacing hiss.


    The Cannibal, sensing the imitation, bristled with rage as he fixed his gaze on the approaching abomination.


    In a twisted mockery of its counterpart, the shadow wyrm scampered to its deformed feet, its wings pping furiously as it struggled to reach the sky.


    Cannibal abandoned his dying prey and unleashed a torrent of dragon me upon the impostor before him.


    Boom!


    The fiery st struck its target with deadly precision, shattering the shadow wyrm''s skull and sending its gooey form reeling in a chaotic frenzy that nearly toppled it to the ground.

 Chapter 89: Headless Shadow

    Chapter 89: Headless Shadow


    But the Shadow Wyrm proved resilient, gradually regaining its footing amid the chaos.


    Its writhing tentacles coalesced and morphed into a new one-eyed goat''s head on its neck.


    "Roar..."


    The sight further fueled Cannibal''s fury, causing him to rise higher into the sky, his wings beating with increased intensity as he unleashed torrents of dragon me.


    With each blow, its form was shattered and rebuilt, yet it seemed to grow more agile, quickly adapting to Cannibal''s attacks.


    Recognizing the pattern, Rhaegar urged Cannibal to stay alert, realizing that the creature was mimicking the dragon''s movements.


    "Cannibal, stay alert! It''s mirroring your every move," Rhaegar warned, his voice echoing over the tumultuous battle.


    Cannibal continued his assault, unleashing dragon mes from every angle.


    Meanwhile, the situation on the ground was rapidly deteriorating.The monstrous remnants of the shadow creature, still lurking amidst the chaos, continued to attack any living creature within range with their shadowy appendages.


    The night air was thick with the dissolved goo of the Shadow Wyrm, only to rise from the ground and attack again.


    In the face of overwhelming odds, the morale of the human forces plummeted.


    The once unified wildling army was now scattered, crumbling under the Shadow''s relentless onught.


    Driven by fear, many sought refuge beyond the outer ring of fire, their panicked flight adding to the chaos unfolding in the open space.


    In the heart of the clearing, prisonersy sprawled on the ground, their ears filled with the shouts and screams of battle.


    Meanwhile, the Shadowbinder''s head continued to mutter.


    "The Shadow ising... to y all the living... to gather more Shadows..."


    A lone figure on horseback approached, reining in his mount with a decisive halt.


    Quickly dismounting, the figure grabbed the head and silenced it with a prepared rag.


    "Silence!"


    It was Sam, his guards scattered in the confusion, leaving him no choice but to retrieve the head himself.


    As he straightened, a sudden gust of wind alerted him to danger from behind. With a quick dodge, he deftly intercepted the attacker and severed the head with a swift stroke of his sword.


    The figure copsed into a pool of viscous goo, writhing on the ground in agony.


    Sam quickly remounted and spurred his horse away from the battle.


    Elsewhere, the Brune soldiers, all under Sorrel''smand, shed fiercely with the shadows.


    Nearby, Bart crouched by a flickering campfire, protected only by two guards.


    A shadowy figure emerged from the ground, overpowering the guards and pinning Bart to the ground.


    Terrified, Bart iled wildly and caught sight of the figure''s blurred visage.


    In the distorted features, he saw a grotesque resemnce to histe brother, Wells.


    Bart''s fear overwhelmed him and he involuntarily lost control of his dder.


    With a desperate plea, he cried out, his eyes squeezed shut in terror, "Brother, I had nothing to do with your death, I swear! Please, spare me! I have never betrayed you or our family!"


    ...


    High above, the Cannibal, following Rhaegar''s orders, engaged the Shadow Wyrn in a fierce battle. But his cries seemed futile against the relentless onught.


    Boom...


    Once again, the emerald dragon me obliterated the Shadow Wyrm''s brain, but this time it reacted differently. Without waiting for its brain to reform, it lunged forward, wings beating furiously as it charged the Cannibal.


    From the goo dripping from its neck, a swirling ck mist coalesced into a familiar figure - the headless shadow that had attacked Rhaegar and the Cannibal earlier.


    Rhaegar''s blood ran cold at the sight, his heart pounding with adrenaline.


    "Dracarys!"


    With a steely resolve fueled by a surge of emotion, Rhaegar''s icy facade cracked and he gave the order to attack.


    In that moment, he understood the source of Cannibal''s rage. The crude imitation stirred something primal in him, driving him to destroy the twisted mockery before him.


    Meanwhile, the Shadow Wyrm''s head reappeared, setting the stage for a showdown between the two dragons. Cannibal''s mes collided with his opponent''s shadows as they shed in the sky for the first time.


    Boom!


    The emerald mes tore through the shadow mist and collided with the shadow wyrm with unyielding force.


    In an instant, the Shadow Wyrm''s brain and neck were incinerated into nothing. The headless shadow perched on its neck vanished into thin air.


    "Continue the attack, Dracarys!"


    Rhaegar''smand echoed across the battlefield as he urged Cannibal on. The dragon responded with a rumbling growl, circling and unleashing mes.


    To Rhaegar''s astonishment, the headless shadow reappeared on the back of the shadow wyrm. As they made contact, shadowy tentacles sprouted from the Shadow Wyrm''s body and plunged into the headless figure.


    The Shadow Wyrm was restored to its former glory. At the same time, half of the Shadows on the ground vanished, easing the chaos below.


    "Damn it, it''s consuming the other Shadows," Rhaegar cursed. He warned the Cannibal to increase the intensity of his dragon me to prevent the production of the slimy substance.


    "Roar..."


    With renewed strength, the Shadow Wyrm let out a terrifying roar and charged at the Cannibal, attempting to engage the dragon in closebat.


    The Cannibal roared defiantly, unleashing dragonfire at its foe.


    In an instant, the Shadow Wyrm sliced through the dragonfire, leaving behind only one wing and half of its tail as it wrapped itself around the Cannibal from below.


    Its body, adorned with shadow tentacles, shed at the Cannibal''s scales. The ck dragon''s armor-like scales proved imprable, however, and it easily parried the attack.


    Seizing the opportunity, the Cannibal sank his razor-sharp fangs into the Shadow Wyrm''s neck, leaving a gaping wound. Despite the thrashing and twisting, the Cannibal maintained its grip.


    Unbeknownst to Rhaegar, the true threat lurked unseen - the headless shadow, wielding a steel spike stained with dragon blood, stealthily made its way to the dragon''s back.


    A surge of adrenaline coursed through Rhaegar as he sensed the impending danger, his body temperature rising and his skin flushing. A quick nce over his shoulder revealed the headless shadow, sending a shiver down his spine.


    Stifling his rising panic, he steeled himself for the confrontation, his face flushed and a glint of determination in his eyes.


    "I refuse to be defeated without a fight," he said, quickly pulling a bottle of oil from his storage bracelet.


    With practiced precision, Rhaegar ignited the cloth at the bottle''s mouth and hurled it at the Cannibal''s pitch-ck scales. Immediately, a fierce ze erupted, engulfing the dragon and him in mes.

 Chapter 90: Defeating The Creature With Its Own Mask

    Chapter 90: Defeating The Creature With Its Own Mask


    Armed with the formidable enchantments of ��Blood and Fire�� and ��True Dragon''s Blood��, Rhaegar remained impervious to the scorching heat unleashed by the kerosene inferno.


    Despite this, the mes served to draw the encroaching shadows nearer,pelling them to converge.


    Yet, shadows were ephemeral entities, destined to distort and dissipate upon encountering the searing embrace of mes, rendering them harmless to Rhaegar.


    Amidst the crackling inferno, the Cannibal sensed a shift in its master''s emotions, prompting it to whirl around in rm. With a thunderous roar, it confronted the advancing headless shadow crawling up its body.


    Discarding the remnants of the smoldering shadow wyrm, the Cannibal unleashed a torrent of dragon me, forming a barrier of searing emerald fire before it. With a powerful beat of its wings, it propelled itself forward, passing through the roaring congration unscathed.


    Reacting swiftly, Rhaegar hastily stowed away the red mask, shielding his face with one hand as he crouched.


    As the mes licked at his clothing, searing his skin with their heat, Rhaegar braced himself. Within the green mes, all shadows seemed to be obliterated.


    Unscathed, Rhaegar rose to his feet, scanning the surroundings with heightened vignce. Yet, the headless shadow had vanished without a trace again, leaving him toment its escape.


    With a resigned sigh, he retrieved a set of loose garments from his bracelet and swiftly changed into them."Roar!"


    The timely roar from Cannibal jolted Rhaegar back to focus, prompting him to steady himself as the dragon descended, casting a shadow over the remnants of shadow wyrm.


    Even as the monstrous entities continued their relentless assault on the living, the battle raged on, far from its conclusion.


    Rhaegar retrieved the red-painted mask once more, contemting its significance.


    "The mask is a token, but how can I return it?" he mused aloud, pondering headless shadow.


    Unlike other shadow creatures, this one possessed a distinct purpose, almost as if imbued with intelligence.


    Recalling its previous attacks, including the attempt on his life and the Cannibal''s tail, Rhaegar couldn''t shake that the headless shadow was the Shadowbinder''s original creation.


    "A shadow without a head... and a mask..." His thoughts raced, and suddenly, a realization dawned upon him.


    "Cannibal, lead me to those prisoners!" hemanded abruptly, envisioning a n to break the curse.


    Having teared the shadow wyrm apart, Cannibal responded dutifully, soaring through the air while spewing dragon mes to vanquish the figures below, drawing closer to the prisoners at the heart of the clearing.


    Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the clearing, the headless shadow reappeared, perched atop the monstrous creature, orchestrating another rampage to im more lives and replenish the shadows lost in battle.


    Whoosh--


    A ming arrow streaked through the air, piercing the chest of the Headless Shadow.


    Clutching the wound, the headless figure stopped, fixing its gaze on the source of the arrow��a girl with brown, curly hair who was reloading her bow for another shot.


    Twisting and contorting, the headless figure dissolved into a shadow, merging seamlessly and closing in on the girl.


    "Run! The dragon ising!" Skr shouted urgently, her voice drowned out by the chaos as a burly wildling shoved her aside, forcing her into the throng.


    With a roar, green dragon mes descended, engulfing the creatures. As thest remnants of the shadow were consumed by the dragon''s me, the battle drew to it''s end.


    Thebined forces of the wildling army, the soldiers of House Brune and House Crabb stood united against the waves of shadows, wielding oil-coated weapons, drastically reducing casualties.


    Rhaegar and Cannibalnded on the ground, searching for the heads of the Shadowbinders among the in prisoners, but it was nowhere to be found.


    Determined to find it, he called out to Skr, "Have you seen the head of the Shadowbringer?" Before she could respond, another voice chimed in.


    "I have it! The skull is here!" Bart, disheveled and panicked, ran towards Rhaegar, clutching the head with a distressed expression, his guards nowhere in sight.


    Meanwhile, Sam, tall and stout, fended off the approaching figures with his longsword, steadily making his way towards the dragon.


    Spotting Bart with the skull, Rhaegar''s eyes sparkled as he urgentlymanded, "Destroy it! Smash the head!"


    "Yes, Prince!" Bart, momentarily bewildered, swiftlyplied, tossing the skull into a nearby bonfire without hesitation.


    ...


    As the skull made contact with the mes, ck smoke billowed forth, but any attempt to howl was stifled as it was quickly reduced to charred remains, crumbling to bone under the trampling feet of the crowd.


    Buzz...


    A profound silence fell over the scene. The shadows seemed frozen, allowing the living to cut them down, each one reverting to nothing as they fell.


    Amidst the scattered bone fragments, a headless figure emerged. He watched as the empty neck writhed, gradually giving rise to a new head��a face identical to that of the in Shadowbinder.


    Yet, devoid of emotion, the face remained quiet. Though its mouth opened as if to speak, how could a mere shadow speak?


    In a swift transition, the headless figure adjusted to its new appearance, and the shadows on the ground began to stir once more.


    "Skr, shot it!" Rhaegar''smand


    Whoosh...


    An arrow flew, its tip piercing a red mask, aimed directly at the shadow of the Shadowbinder..


    St...


    The arrow struck true, embedding itself in the Shadowbinder''s forehead, the red mask enveloping its face.


    In an instant, the red mask unleashed an infinite suction force, swallowing the shadow within.


    With the disappearance of the Shadowbinder''s shadow, all the shadows in the clearing dissipated, dissipating into wisps of ck smoke that dispersed on the wind.


    Even the monstrous creatures and remnants of the shadow wyrm could not withstand the wind, shriveling and crumbling into dust.


    In the blink of an eye, the enemy vanished, leaving the stunned onlookers in disbelief.


    They still lingered in a state of uncertainty, their eyes scanning the clearing for any sign of the battle''s resolution.


    "Did it work?" Rhaegar''s voice carried a note of skepticism as he watched the shadow creatures vanish into thin air.


    Cannibal''s growled,zily shifting its weight and stretching its wings��a assurance that the danger had passed.


    The wildling army and soldiers, their muscles still tensed frombat, turned their attention to the young prince and the dragon.


    Uncertain if the curse had truly been lifted, their resolve remained steadfast as long as the dragon and its rider stood beside them.


    Interpreting Cannibal''s demeanor, Rhaegar couldn''t help but feel a surge of admiration. "Who would have thought defeating the Shadow Creature could be so straightforward?" he mused, aware of the expectant gazes fixed upon him.


    After a brief moment of contemtion, he straightened his posture upon the dragon''s back, raising his arm high to address the assembled crowd.


    Among them were wildling savages, armored soldiers, and nobles like Sam and Bart.


    After a brief moment of contemtion, he straightened his posture upon the dragon''s back, raising his arm high to address the assembled crowd.


    Among them were wildling savages, armored soldiers, and nobles like Sam and Babette.


    As Cannibal shifted beneath him, lifting him higher, Rhaegar took a deep breath of the moonlit air, his voice resonating with authority: "Gentlemen! After all your efforts, I am pleased to announce..."


    "The curse is over!"


    The deration reverberated across the deste battlefield, the hoarse yet powerful voice like music to their ears.


    "We''ve won!"


    "Curse be damned, we''ve triumphed!"


    "Long live the dragon... Long live the prince!"


    Their joyous cries filled the air, weapons raised in celebration of their hard-won victory.


    Surveying the jubnt throng, Rhaegar felt an inexplicable surge of excitement, a smile spreading across his face.


    He hadn''t relied on his family; it was him and Cannibal against the dreaded curse.


    This was their adventure.


    Their first triumph together.


    "My friend, we did it!" Rhaegar eximed, his praise directed at the towering figure of Cannibal.

 Chapter 91: A New Blessing

    Chapter 91: A New Blessing


    Meanwhile, on Dragonstone Ind...


    Beneath the night sky, a figure stealthily slipped out of the castle, navigating the shadows with practiced ease.


    With caution in every step, it made its way to the shoreline.


    Compared to a few days ago, the scenery changed, several inverted spears stuck on the shallow beach where the tide was rising, forming an atmosphere.


    Through the dim moonlight, it was possible to vaguely make out several heads stuck on spears.


    Heads of dragonkeepers, servants and guards......


    The figure moved swiftly, making a beeline for a secluded cove where a small boat awaited.


    As Rhaenyra approached, Robert emerged from the shadows, his concern evident. "Princess, the sea vessel is prepared, but are you sure about this?"


    "I know what I must do, Lord Robert," Rhaenyra replied, her weariness evident beneath the moon''s gentle glow.Stepping onto the boat, her resolve unwavering, she spoke with determination, "Rhaegar has been missing for too long, and my father has yet to uncover any leads. I must return to King''s Landing to search for my dragon."


    "Princess, Prince Rhaegar has his dragon by his side. Perhaps the situation isn''t as dire as it seems," Robert attempted to reason.


    But Rhaenyra shook her head, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. "I have waited long enough."


    With that, she gestured to the sailors to set the small boat adrift, guiding it towards the awaiting vessel anchored in the vast expanse of the sea.


    ...


    Meanwhile, within the castle''s confines...


    Viserysy upon his bed, his slumber disrupted by a restless stirring.


    A flicker of emotion crossed his serene features, his brow knitting with unease.


    In his dreams, he had many visions.


    A fire erupted from the heart of King''s Landing, spreading it across the expanse of the Seven Kingdoms.


    Amidst the fire, a figure emerged��a young man astride a ck dragon, his hair shimmering like molten silver.


    Brandishing a sword and spear with effortless grace, he cut through hordes of enemies.


    None could stand against him, sumbing either to dragonfire or his weapon.


    Amidst the chaos, a crown of darkness adorned his brow��a symbol of sovereignty forged in blood and me, Viserys recognized that it was the crown Aegon the Conqueror had worn at his coronation.


    As the mes danced higher, the features of the youth became clearer, drawing Viserys'' gaze with an insatiable curiosity.


    With bated breath, he strained to discern the face that emerged from the congration.


    And then, in a moment of revtion, recognition dawned upon him.


    "Rhaegar!..."


    The name escaped his lips in a startled murmur, a testament to the profound impact of the vision that had seized his slumbering mind.


    Plop...


    Startled awake by the echoes of his cries, Viserys bolted upright in bed, his heart racing by his dream.


    Gasping for air, beads of cold sweat dotted his brow.


    "Rhaegar... It must be Rhaegar!" he muttered breathlessly.


    For a fleeting moment, he hesitated, grappling with the surreal remnants of his dream before the truth solidified in his consciousness.


    The visage of the young man, atop the back of a ck dragon, was unmistakable�� his firstborn, Rhaegar Targaryen.


    In that instant of rity, Viserys remembered.


    Thest remaining ck dragon in all thends��Cannibal��is under his son''smand.


    As his thoughts swirled, Viserys reached for the ss and bottle by his bedside, seeking sce in the familiar embrace of wine.


    A soft knock interrupted, it was Harrold''s voice, tinged with concern.


    "Your Majesty, are you awake?"


    Brushing the remnants of sweat from his brow, Viserys replied wearily, "Yes, just a dream."


    With a creak, the door yielded to Harrold''s gentle push, allowing the captain of the Kingsguard to enter.


    "Your Majesty, your sleep has been very badtely," Harrold said, his brow furrowing with worry.


    Viserys offered a weary smile, his voice tinged with a newfound sense of purpose. "It''s of no consequence. These dreams... they''re different."


    Savoring a sip of wine, a spark ignited within Viserys'' tired eyes, his weariness momentarily eclipsed by excitement. "This dream, it''s the one I''ve long sought. And now, it''s finally found me."


    Harrold''s brow furrowed in confusion as he listened to Viserys'' words.


    "Prepare a grand feast; I have a feeling my son is returning," Viserys dered, his voice tinged with an unwavering conviction.


    "Your Grace, Prince Rhaegar''s whereabouts are still unknown. It may not be prudent to celebrate prematurely," Harrold interjected, his toneced with bitter persuasion.


    Viserys'' expression shifted dramatically, his features taking on a solemn gravity. "No! My son has returned. He is the prince of prophecy, born amidst blood and fire."


    "Your Grace..." Harrold faltered, at a loss for words.


    To him, it seemed as though the king''s longing had clouded his judgment, leaving him somewhat bewildered.


    Viserys chose not to dwell on Harrold''s skepticism, instead shifting his focus to more pressing matters. "How did the investigation fare?"


    "The dragon guards and dragonkeepers on the ind have been questioned, and several hidden passageways within the castle have been discovered. There are signs of recent activity within," Harrold reported, his expression hesitant.


    "One of these passages leads to the Queen''s chambers," he added, his voice tinged with uncertainty.


    "Alicent?" Viserys'' features registered a mixture of shock and contemtion. "You suspect the Queen''s involvement in Rhaegar''s disappearance?"


    "This possibility cannot be discounted, Your Majesty. However, concrete evidence is needed before any conclusions can be drawn," Harrold analyzed objectively.


    Viserys closed his eyes briefly, his countenance betraying no discernible emotion as he contemted the gravity of the situation.


    After a moment of silence, he reopened his eyes, resolve etched into his features. "Initiate covert surveince on Alicent''s activities. Report any findings to me immediately."


    "Yes, Your Grace," Harrold affirmed, nodding in acknowledgment of the king''s orders.


    Just as Viserys was preparing to depart, a sharp knock echoed from the door, and Robert''s voice pierced through the silence.


    "Your Majesty, the princess has ndestinely departed the castle and returned to King''s Landing by boat," Robert informed, his tone tinged with urgency.


    "Seven Hells! Who dares to defy my orders!" Viserys erupted in fury, his voice reverberating through the room as he vented his frustration. "Summon the Maesters at once. Order them to dispatch a message to have Rhaenyra ced under house arrest the moment she sets foot in King''s Landing!"


    "As youmand, Your Grace," Robert responded promptly, his demeanor reflecting a mixture of apprehension and deference.


    With a sense of dismay lingering in the air, Robert hurriedly made his exit, feeling torn between his duties to the king and his loyalty to the princess.


    In the end, he found himself caught in the crossfire.


    ...


    As the first light of dawn filtered through the window, Rhaegar stirred in his bed, roused by the familiar beep of his system.


    "Explorationplete. Retrieve the lost treasures," the notification shed across his screen.


    Blinking away the remnants of sleep, Rhaegar''s gaze fell upon the red-painted mask nestled beside him.


    "The explorationplete..." he murmured, his mind slowly clearing as he reached for the mask.


    [Cursed Mask of the Shadow]


    Exploration Progress: 100%


    As he absorbed the information disyed before him, Rhaegar felt a surge of satisfaction. Last night''s battle reyed in his mind, and he broke the curse.


    Beside the red masky a faint purple glow, catching Rhaegar''s attention. With a smile, he extended his hand, poking at the halo.


    "Relic retrieval sessful. Initiating detection..." the system announced.


    "Detectionplete. Epic relic identified: Blessing of the Lord of Light."


    With a metallic clink, a ck iron token adorned with a crimson heart fell into Rhaegar''s palm.


    Studying the token intently pondering. "A blessing? Like the White Hart''s Blessing?" he mused, reading the system text about the token.


    "The power of the gods lies dormant within. Do not underestimate it, for it shall unveil miracles in your time of need," he read aloud.


    Rhaegar carefully stowed away the token, recognizing that its potential. Perhaps, in the future, an opportunity would arise to unlock its hidden powers.


    "Let''s get up..." Rhaegar''s voice echoed through his chambers as he roused himself from slumber and donned his attire.


    The shadow was killed and his adventure in the Penins had ended, now it''s time to go back to Dragonstone Ind and join his family again.

 Chapter 92: Celtigar

    Chapter 92: Celtigar


    Dyre Den Castle


    Within its walls, the formidable figure of Cannibal rested, his massive form sprawled on the ground, his breath sending waves of heat.


    Approaching the dragon, Rhaegar''s gaze met its closed pupils and he reached out to stroke the creature''s muzzle.


    Doubtfully, he addressed the dragon, his words fraught with uncertainty, "Cannibal, are you feeling depressed today?"


    In response, a low roar escaped the dragon''s throat, its massive frame shifting slightly as it conveyed its feelings.


    "It feels its own strength," Rhaegar interpreted, a wry smile gracing his lips. "It''s disappointed it didn''t get a chance to fully unleash itst night."


    Chuckling softly, Rhaegar reassured the dragon, "Fear not, my friend. When we return to Dragonstone Ind, we can find those two dragons and take our frustration out on them."


    Their bond strengthened with each passing day, and Rhaegar had no doubt that with Cannibal at his side, they would emerge victorious against Vermithor and the wounded Silverwing.


    As their conversation continued, a group of figures approached, their presence drawing Rhaegar''s attention.Turning to face them, he recognized Sam, Bart, and Skr, their expressions a mixture of caution and reverence for the ck dragon beside him.


    As they approached, they knelt before him.


    Rhaegar was taken aback by their disy. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice tinged with surprise.


    Sam spoke first, his words filled with loyalty. "Prince, you led us to defeat the curse. We hope you will continue to lead us in the future."


    Bart echoed his sentiments, his tone repentant. "My brother has made serious mistakes. While I dare not hope for the King''s forgiveness, I ask only that you ept the loyal service of House Brune and allow us to atone for our sins by your side."


    As Rhaegar''s gaze settled on Skr, he couldn''t help but admire her bravery in the battle the night before.


    After a moment of reflection, Rhaegar replied softly, "I promised Falcon that I would take care of his tribe. I will bring what remains of the Falcon tribe with me. But what do you want?"


    Skr raised her head, determination in her eyes as she spoke boldly, "Prince, you have worked tirelessly for the Penins. You should not abandon the fruits of yourbor and leave."


    "The fruits of mybor?" Rhaegar asked, confused by her words.


    Skr calmly exined, "You broke the curse and saved the people of the Penins. You were to gather them all and ept their allegiance."


    "And then?" Rhaegar inquired further.


    "You can unite the nobles and wildlings of the penins and be the first hero to unite the region in nearly a hundred years. You will return to your family with honor," Skr continued.


    Rhaegar hesitated, considering her words carefully. Before he could answer, Sam offered his advice. "Prince, the people of the penins are eagerly awaiting your presence. You should meet with them."


    With a slight frown, Rhaegar nodded in agreement and let them lead him to the city walls.


    Outside the wall, a diverse gathering had gathered: House Brune, House Crabb, the wildling army, and numerous small noble families they had encountered before.


    As Rhaegar stepped onto the city wall, the entire assembly fell to their knees, heads bowed in reverence. Despite the silence, the intensity of their gazes was deafening.


    Watching this disy, Rhaegar was taken aback. He turned to Sam and the others. "Do they swear allegiance to me?" he asked.


    "Yes, hero of the penins, prince of Targaryen," Sam and the others replied in unison, affirming their loyalty with bowed heads and kneeling forms.


    Rhaegar sighed softly, a sense of resignation coloring his words. "Let them rise. I am about to leave."


    "Prince, I implore you to ept the loyalty of the nobles," one of them urged.


    "Prince, the crab ws you appointed to fight for you are still following your orders," another added.


    The air was thick with anticipation as Rhaegar pondered their pleas. After a long silence, he relented. "Alright. Raise your heads, I ept your allegiance."


    Reflecting on the previous night''s victory, Rhaegar couldn''t help but feel a sense of fulfillment. The admiration and respect in the eyes of these people was unfamiliar, yet gratifying.


    Surveying the scene before him, Rhaegar realized that this hospitality was hard to resist.


    Upon hearing the prince''s eptance, the gathering erupted in joyous celebration.


    Under Bart''s coordination, the nobles of the penins gathered in the waiting room of Dyre Den, where they knelt before Rhaegar and pledged their allegiance.


    They won the wager.


    Skr, apanied by Trangle, the representative of the Crab ws, sought an audience with Rhaegar. Trangle, tall and bear-like, spoke in a mumbled tone, "Prince, some of the free folk wish to return to the wilderness, while a thousand wish to go with you.


    Rhaegar nodded in acknowledgement and issued amand, "Calcte the total number of free men, including the remnants of the Hawk tribe and their families.


    Despite his reservations about their naivety, he acknowledged their loyalty and sacrifice.


    "About two thousand, mostly women and children," Skr reported.


    Rhaegar then considered the logistics of amodating such a group. "Transporting two thousand will require arge ship."


    Skr interjected confidently, "The nobles of the penins mayckrge ships, but I know where we can find one."


    "Tell me more," Rhaegar demanded.


    Skr hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice muffled, "The Celtigar House of w Isle. They''ve been loyal to the Targaryen dynasty for generations and have a formidable fleet."


    "Are you rted to the Celtigars?" Rhaegar inquired, intrigued by her reluctance.


    Skr bowed her head even lower, her teeth clenched in frustration. "Yes, Bartimos Celtigar. He''s my father, but I''m just a bastard, born to a fisherman''s daughter."


    "Then why did you end up here at Crackw Point?" Rhaegar inquired quietly.


    There was resentment in Skr''s answer. "Bartimos despises bastards, regardless of our circumstances. I was born to a different woman than Tormund, and fate led us to work together on a ship."


    "After a shipwreck, Tormund and I were washed ashore at Crackw Point, where we were taken in by Uncle Falcon."


    Skr''s hands clenched, her voice filled with resentment at their circumstances. "It''s unfair."


    Rhaegar sighed, understanding her plight. "I''ll go to w Isle and borrow a boat. Meanwhile, you organize the free folk to leave with us."


    Despite the lingering prejudice they faced, Rhaegar chose not to dwell on their past; he had no desire to reopen old wounds or add to their pain.


    ...


    Rhaegar led Cannibal to w Isle, whichy east of Crackw Point and near the Whispers. With Cannibal''s impressive speed, they crossed the mid-sea in a matter of minutes and quickly reached the ind.


    w Isle, under the leadership of House Celtigar, is arge ind in the sea.


    Much like House Vryon, House Celtigar traces its lineage back to the days of Old Valyria and apanied the Targaryens on their journey to Westeros.


    Members of House Celtigar boast Valyrian ancestry and are characterized by their distinctive silver hair and piercing purple eyes.


    Known for their unwavering loyalty, the Celtigars have served the Targaryens faithfully for generations to the present day.


    As they approached w Isle, Rhaegar surveyed the sprawling city below Cannibal Mountain. A towering castle graced the rolling hills.


    "It''s here," Rhaegar murmured, giving Cannibal a reassuring pat before signaling him tond outside the castle walls.


    "Roar..." Cannibal circled the castle, releasing a burst of dragon me as if to announce the arrival of the strongest wild dragon.


    Cannibalnded, creating a gust of wind. The dragon''s imposing figure loomed over the castle walls, dwarfing the soldiers and horses inside.


    The sudden appearance of the dragon sent shockwaves through w Isle. Though the guards on the city walls trembled with fear, they held their ground and refused to flee.


    Mounted on Cannibal, Rhaegar stood almost eye to eye with the guards. In a calm tone he addressed them, "Go and summon your lord. Tell him the Targaryen prince has arrived."

 Chapter 93: An Unexpected Meeting With Lyonel

    Chapter 93: An Unexpected Meeting With Lyonel


    "Yes, just a moment..." The captain of the guards, armored, cast fearful nces at the imposing Cannibal before hastening down the wall.


    The dragon''s arrival had undoubtedly drawn attention, evident from the open gates of the castle. A procession emerged, arranged in two rows, with attendants bowing their heads in deference to the dragon''s presence.


    Among them walked several nobles, adorned in fine attire, led by an elderly man with a dignified countenance. His silver hair, a hallmark of Valyrian descent, thinned at the crown, while his keen blue eyes betrayed a shrewdness.


    The group moved with purpose, yet maintained theirposure until they reached the gate, pausing to regard the prince astride the dragon''s back.


    "Cannibal, lower me," Rhaegar requested softly.


    "Roar..." The dragon emitted a low growl, lowering its body to allow its rider to dismount.


    Maintaining a distance of one hundred meters, both parties observed each other. The assembled group dared not approach the dragon, instead standing before the city gate to pay their respects.


    Rhaegar approached slowly, his gaze scanning the line of individuals until it settled on a familiar face.


    "The Seven Gods have blessed me, allowing me to meet the prince here. How wonderful," eximed a rounded figure, quickly advancing from across the room with an agitated expression.Before Rhaegar could utter a word, a smile spread across his face as he greeted, "Lord Lyonel, why are you here?"


    The figure revealed itself to be none other than Lyonel Strong, the former Hand of the King. Despite his quick steps, Lyonel''s stomach jiggled slightly, unable to contain his joy. "Prince, your well-being brings me great relief. I''ve been scouring the Narrow Sea in search of your whereabouts."


    Ever since Rhaegar''s dragon vanished, Lyonel had been dispatched to search tirelessly. Recently, he had visited Driftmark, home to the Vryon family, before unexpectedly encountering Rhaegar during a visit to the Celtigar family on w Isle.


    Upon their meeting, Lyonel bent downboriously, his hands inspecting Rhaegar as if checking for injuries.


    With a softugh, Rhaegar reassured him, "I''m fine. My dragonnded in Crackw Point to recover from its injuries, and I''ve only just returned a few days ago."


    His words were not deceitful; Cannibal had indeed suffered severe injuries and had returned recently. However, the journey had been fraught with twists and turns, though he had been away from Dragonstone Ind for less than ten days in total.


    Relieved to find the prince unharmed, Lyonel expressed, "Prince, your absence without any news had the king and the princess greatly concerned for your safety."


    "I apologize for causing them worry. I encountered a few obstacles, but I resolved them as quickly as I could," Rhaegar replied, moved by his father and sister''s concerns.


    "It''s a relief that you''re safe," Lyonel remarked, straightening up. He then led Rhaegar towards the city gates, introducing him to Lord Bartimos Celtigar, the patriarch of the Celtigar family and the ruler of w Isle.


    Rhaegar nodded respectfully to Lord Bartimos, acknowledging his father''s loyal bannerman. "Greetings, Lord Bartimos."


    Lord Bartimos reciprocated with a courteous smile, gesturing towards the castle entrance. "It is an honor to host you on w Isle, Prince. Please, allow us to extend our hospitality."


    Rhaegar epted graciously, saying, "The honor is mine, Lord Bartimos."


    With Lyonel by his side, Rhaegar proceeded into the castle.


    As a renowned maritime family, the Celtigar lineage paralleled the Vryons, initially amassing wealth through taxes levied on ships. With a formidable fleet at their disposal, they ventured into maritime trade, rapidly umting riches within a few generations.


    Upon entering the castle, Rhaegar was immediately struck by the opulence that permeated the halls. Luxurious mil carpets lined the floors, windows boasted Valentine ss, and walls shimmered with gold and silver embellishments. Surveying the room, Rhaegar couldn''t help but marvel at the wealth on disy.


    "Rich as hell," he mused inwardly.


    Bartimos, ever eager to maintain appearances, observed Rhaegar''s admiration with a self-satisfied smile. "Prince, forgive the modesty of our wee. While we couldn''t throw a grand reception, the kitchen has prepared a fitting banquet to honor Lord Lyonel."


    Though Bartimos feigned regret, Rhaegar was unfazed. His visit was not merely social; he hade with purpose.


    As the servants busied themselves with banquet preparations, Bartimos engaged Rhaegar and Lyonel in conversation. Lyonel recounted the events on Dragonstone Ind during Rhaegar''s absence��raids, executions, and Rhaenyra''s fervent appeals to search for her brother. In turn, Rhaegar shared his own adventures in the Penins, leaving his hosts astonished by the tales of curses and magic.


    Bartimos, skeptical, questioned, "Prince, do you truly believe that magic has invaded Crackw Point?"


    Without hesitation, Rhaegar affirmed, "Certainly."


    Lyonel, more diplomatic, interjected, "Prince, magic has long been deemed a legend by most. Its resurgence is quite unexpected."


    Rhaegar posed a thought-provoking query, "If dragons were to vanish, would the world dismiss them as mere legend?"


    The room fell silent as both Bartimos and Lyonel grappled with the implications of Rhaegar''s words, uncertain of how to respond.


    Bartimos chuckled, his hand resting on his palm. "Indeed, Prince Rhaegar speaks truth. In my youth, I traversed the Narrow Sea aboard ships, encountering many adventures."


    Seatedfortably on a plush cushion, Rhaegar broached his request earnestly. "My lord, I''vee to w Isle seeking to borrow a boat to transport the free people who have pledged allegiance to me. I implore your generous assistance."


    Bartimos hesitated, his gaze shifting to Lyonel, who remained silent. It was clear that such a seemingly trivial request as borrowing a ship for transportation wasn''t as straightforward when it involved a group of Penins savages.


    Aware of the unspoken concerns, Rhaegar turned to Lyonel, suggesting, "If you doubt my words, apany me to Crackw Point to witness the truth firsthand. The nobles there have already sworn their loyalty to me."


    At Rhaegar''s proposition, the room fell into a palpable silence. Lyonel''s eyes gleamed with an enigmatic intensity as if peering into the depths of Rhaegar''s intentions.


    Meanwhile, Bartimos contemted, recalling his interactions with the Penins nobles. They were known for their barbaric and confrontational nature, often engaging in skirmishes and petty feuds.


    Given their formidable military prowess and the presence of Rhaegar''s wildling followers, Bartimos realized the potential strategic advantage of securing their allegiance. After all, even cannon fodder could tip the scales in a conflict.

 Chapter 94: Reunion at Sea

    Chapter 94: Reunion at Sea


    Without waiting for Lyonel to interject, Bartimos solemnly dered, "Prince, the Celtigar family has always been loyal to the royal family, and we shall honor your request."


    Borrowing a ship may have seemed a trifling matter, but securing the favor of the king''s eldest son held far greater significance.


    w Isley just a few hours'' sail from Dragonstone, a journey even quicker if undertaken by a mighty dragon. Given the circumstances, it made sense to acquiesce rather than decline, so it was necessary that the prince''s returns to ind to make preparations.


    While Rhaegar was puzzled over the subtle dynamics, he sensed that Bartimos harbored certain expectations of him. Nevertheless, he remained indifferent to it.


    Tightening his smile, Rhaegar graciously replied, "Your assistance is greatly appreciated, my lord."


    Bartimus''s smile remained as he affirmed, "I shall ensure that the ships are prepared promptly for the journey to Crackw Point."


    Only then did Lyonel emerge from his reverie. Casting a nce at Bartimos, he subtly lowered his head, opting to maintain a modest profile.


    With his well-honed political acumen, Lyonel discerned that the prince''s return to Dragonstone Ind would likely provoke significant upheaval. Given the circumstances, it was necessary to exercise caution and refrain from drawing attention to himself.


    ...Two dayster, three majestic sailing ships set sail from Crackw Point, their decks crowded with ragged but determined souls bound for Dragonstone.


    A resounding dragon''s roar pierced the air, and massive wings eclipsed the ships it soared into the skies.


    Standing atop the ship''s prow, Rhaegar looked at the endless expanse of sea.


    Lyonel approached from behind, his voice a whisper amidst the wind, "Prince, word arrivedst night by raven: the princess has returned to King''s Landing in secret, escorted to the Red Keep by the Kingsguard for safety."


    "Is she attempting to utilize the dragons to locate me?" Rhaegar pondered aloud, his thoughts drifting to Syrax''s confinement within the dragon''s pit.


    "Yes, the princess has been fraught with worry since the dragon incident that fateful night," Lyonel murmured empathetically.


    "Once I''ve met with my father, I shall swiftly journey to King''s Landing to reunite with Rhaenyra."


    Rhaegar''s lips curved into a knowing smile, acknowledging the myriad advantages of dragon ownership, particrly in matters of expediency.


    Suddenly, a thunderous dragon''s roar rent the air, echoing from above. Rhaegar raised his gaze skyward to behold the Cannibal''s imposing form, its gaze fixed intently on the horizon, as if issuing a warning.


    In response, a second, less formidable roar reverberated through the air, prompting the upants of the ships��both freemen and sailors��to emerge from their cabins, gazing upward in awe and trepidation at the spectacle unfolding above.


    In the distance, a golden dragon emerged into view, capturing the attention of the onlookers below.


    Perched upon the dragon''s back was a young girl adorned in a sleek ck dragon barding.


    Rhaegar''s heart leapt at the sight of the golden dragon, his excitement palpable.


    Spotting the girl atop the dragon, Rhaenyra, he couldn''t contain his shock and cried out, "Rhaenyra!"


    Unaware of his presence, Rhaenyra''s attention was drawn to the Cannibal, the imposing ck dragon now under Rhaegar''smand.


    Her gaze momentarily flickered down to the trio of ships sailing below, hoping to catch sight of Rhaegar.


    Sensing it''s rider''s agitation, Cannibal set aside its hostility toward the other dragon and descended gracefully to sea level.


    With ws slicing through the waves, the Cannibal surged toward therge ship carrying Rhaegar.


    In a breathtaking maneuver, the dragon''s head soared upward as its colossal body ascended into the sky.


    With practiced precision, the long tail swept up Rhaegar, who awaited on his armor, before gently cing him upon its back.


    Seated astride the dragon, Rhaenyra urged the her dragon, drawing closer to Rhaegar in mid-air.


    A resounding roar echoed through the air as the Cannibal, dwarfing its counterpart in size, confronted Syrax, the golden-scaled dragon, causing it to tense and emit a warning roar.


    Witnessing the spectacle from her vantage point, Rhaenyra''s excitement grew as she recognized Rhaegar''s figure, eximing, "Rhaegar!"


    With a gentle touch, she reassured Syrax in High Valyrian, soothing its nerves.


    Before long, Rhaegar was airborne, riding alongside Rhaenyra on her golden dragon.


    The two dragons faced each other in the vast expanse of the sky, one ck and the other golden brown, while Rhaenyra and Rhaegar exchanged nces.


    Rhaenyra''s appearance spoke volumes��her disheveled hair, reddened eyes, and worn countenance betraying the turmoil within as she gazed unwaveringly at Rhaegar.


    "Rhaegar..." Her voice faltered, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.


    Rhaegar returned his sister''s gaze, his eyes alight with the joy of their reunion, and eximed in astonishment, "Sister, I thought you were still confined within the Red Keep. What brings you here?"


    Struggling to maintain her posture amid her evident distress, Rhaenyra''s voice wavered as she replied, "I couldn''t bear to be apart from you any longer. They couldn''t stop me, not yet."


    Rhaegar was deeply moved by her determination.


    Upon closer observation, he noted the toll that recent events had taken on Rhaenyra.


    Compared to theirst meeting, fatigue lingered beneath her eyes, mingling with the telltale signs of sleepless nights.


    With a soft voice, Rhaegar called out, "Sister..."


    Rhaenyra''s eyes welled up with tears as she spoke solemnly, "Come back with me, Rhaegar."


    "Of course, I''ve missed you all dearly," Rhaegar responded, his tone gentle and reassuring.


    Obediently, he followed Rhaenyra''s lead as she directed Syrax towards Dragonstone Ind.


    "Let''s follow suit, Cannibal," Rhaegar said with a warm smile, guiding the dragon to trail behind Syrax, their forms weaving amidst the billowing clouds.


    Although vastly disparate in age and size, the two dragons moved in tandem through the skies.


    Rhaenyra maintained a cautious distance, mindful not to unsettle Rhaegar''s mount.


    Despite the circumstances, Rhaegar felt a swell of happiness; this was their inaugural flight together, a moment to cherish amid the turbulence of their current reality.


    ...


    Before long, the two siblings disembarked from their respective dragons, leaving the ship behind as they arrived at Dragonstone Ind well ahead of schedule.


    Syrax, who had maintained a wary vignce in the presence of Cannibal during their journey,nded eagerly on the cliffs adjacent to the beach, while Rhaenyra kept a watchful eye on her brother.


    Upon seeing her touch down, Rhaegar attempted to follow suit, but Cannibal shook its head adamantly, refusing tond and instead opting to circle the sky above.


    Realization dawned on Rhaegar: there were still two adult dragons on Dragonstone Ind harboring deep-seated animosity towards Cannibal.


    Recalling their previous dragon skirmish, Rhaegar''s heart quickened with anticipation, though he steeled himself for the confrontation ahead.


    With a reassuring pat to Cannibal''s spine, he murmured, "Let''s do this, old friend. Show them what you''re made of."


    In response, Cannibal snorted defiantly, spreading its mighty wings wide and arching its neck as dragon mes brewed within its throat.


    "Roar..."


    In an instant, Cannibal unleashed a deafening roar that reverberated across Dragonstone Ind, its fiery breath painting the sky with vibrant hues, heralding the return of the strongest wild dragon.


    "Roar... Roar..."


    Echoing its cry, two other dragon roars soon pierced the air, tinged with the unmistakable fury of provocation.


    Perched atop Cannibal''s back, Rhaegar surveyed the rugged terrain below, awaiting the arrival of adversaries long absent.


    Before long, two colossal dragons of varying hues emerged from the mountains, soaring skyward with determined purpose.


    One bore a resplendent bronze hue, its eyes aze with fury, its formidable presence akin to that of a seasoned predator - Vermithor.


    The other, a light green dragon, bore the scars of past battles, a chunk missing from its neck and one wing hanging limp - Silverwing, struggling but resolute in its ascent.

 Chapter 95: Another Dragon’s Dance

    Chapter 95: Another Dragon��s Dance


    When rivalse face to face, their eyes seem to burn with intensity.


    As the two adult dragons soared into the sky, their roars reverberated, apanied by the crackling of dragon mes.


    The Cannibal, with its human-like pupils, looked over its opponents.


    Unlike the Cannibal, who had ingested the Marsh Marigold to heal, Silverwing bore more grievous wounds.


    Severely injured, Silverwing remained grounded in its nest, its ability to flypromised and its fury its only sustenance. It posed little threat in its current state.


    Thus, today''s sole adversary was the Bronze Fury - Vermithor.


    "Roar......"


    In the confrontation, two more dragon roars echoed across thendscape.


    One originated from the cliffs, where Rhaenyra rode Syrax.The other emanated from the mountain range, where a massive brown dragon emerged from a cavern, casting a wary gaze upon the four dragons.


    However, it made no move to approach, opting to perch on a distant reef, observing with a cautious eye.


    ncing at the neer, Rhaegar recognized the dragon - a wild dragon known as Sheepstealer.


    This mature mud dragon, about the same age as Caraxes, had gained a reputation for stealing sheep from the ind''s herders.


    It seems that Sheepstealer was startled by the loud roars of the dragons and came out to assess the situation from a safe distance.


    Apparently, there is no reason to worry.


    Simultaneously, Syrax flew to the side of Cannibal.


    Rhaenyra, almost shoulder-to-shoulder with Rhaegar, looked annoyed. "Rhaegar, what are you doing, are you obsessed with fighting dragons?"


    Rhaegar''s tone was firm. "The Cannibal is the strongest of the wild dragons. It has its own pride. Where it falls, it must rise again."


    "That doesn''t make it any easier to control a dragon," Rhaenyra retorted, her gaze darting nervously between Vermithor and Silverwing.


    She couldn''tprehend Rhaegar''s risky behavior, but she couldn''t simply stand by and watch either. She feltpelled to intervene and assist him.


    Rhaegar analyzed the situation. "Silverwing is still recovering. I just need to defeat Vermithor."


    "Syrax has never been inbat before, so my assistance will be limited," Rhaenyramented, her fingers tightening with tension.


    Since bing a dragon rider, she hadn''t yet had the chance to experience a battle. Despite her initial intention to teach Rhaegar a lesson, she found herself secretly craving the adrenaline rush of a fierce sh.


    Rhaegar''s heart raced with anticipation as he shed a confident smile. "You can watch. With the Cannibal by my side, I''m more than capable."


    In the middle of their conversation, Vermithor and Silverwing closed in, unleashing jets of dragon me.


    "Protect yourself, Rhaenyra!" Rhaegar''s urgent shout cut through the tension as the Cannibal surged forward, spewing emerald dragon mes.


    Boom!


    The collision of the three dragon mes unleashed a devastating force, engulfing the sky in heat.


    Rhaegary on his back, gripping the Cannibal''s scales with exhration in his eyes.


    Despite the initial sh, the Cannibal kept up its speed and was ready for another attack.


    The Cannibal''s second dragon me shot towards therger Vermithor, aiming for its neck.


    Vermithor, relying on its sturdy build, put up a good fight, using its wings to disperse the mes.


    Seizing the chance, the Cannibal rushed towards the vulnerable Silverwing, who recoiled in pain.


    A mournful howl echoed as the Cannibal''s jaws closed around Silverwing''s neck.


    But Rhaegar''smanded. "Cannibal, watch out!"


    The Cannibal reacted quickly to themand and changed direction, narrowly avoiding the golden dragon mes.


    Verithor was really angry to see its mate wounded again, so it unleashed a torrent of golden mes in pursuit of the Cannibal.


    However, the Cannibal was faster and managed to dodge the onught, disappearing into the clouds.


    Below, Silverwing crashed heavily to the ground, its neck gushing blood as it writhed in agony.


    The Sheepstealer, watching from afar, cheered in anticipation, eager for a feast.


    "Stop!" But its excitement was short-lived as Rhaenyra,manding Syrax, intervened, positioning herself between them with a stern rebuke in High Valyrian.


    She was enraged by the actions of Vermithor and Silverwing, which involved an attack on Cannibal and threatening Rhaegar''s safety.


    But Rhaenyra understood the delicate bnce of power within House Targaryen.


    Vermithor and Silverwing had been loyal mounts to her ancestors, King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne, serving the kingdom.


    As much as she despised their actions, she couldn''t ignore the value of these adult dragons to the Targaryen House.


    In contrast, Sheepstealer, older and wilder, posed a significant threat.


    Comparable in size to the formidable Caraxes, Sheepstealer dwarfed Syrax, who was still maturing.


    With her nerves on edge, Rhaenyra led Syrax into a tense standoff with the Sheepstealer.


    Sheepstealer roared menacingly, but refrained fromunching an attack.


    Syrax, sensing her rider''s tension, echoed her aggression with a low growl, wings poised for defense.


    Despite its smaller stature, Syrax possessed a spirit that matchedrger dragons.


    In response, Sheepstealer, intimidated by Syrax''s disy, retreated without a fight.


    ...


    The aerial skirmish continues.


    Cannibal disappeared into the thick clouds, out of Vermithor''s sight.


    Driven by fury, Vermithor pursues, his vision obscured by the billowing mist. In that moment of reduced visibility, a massive form hurtles from the nk, descending upon Vermithor with lethal precision.


    Cannibal emerges, its jaws mping down on Vermithor''s neck, and blood spurting forth in a gory disy.


    "Roar..."


    The attack took Vermithor by surprise, leaving him no time to prepare a defense. He struggled desperately to escape.


    But Cannibal, driven by its instincts, presses its advantage, sinking its fangs deep into Vermithor''s flesh, ripping skin and muscle with savage ferocity.


    Vermithor roared in agony, his wings iling and ws shing at Cannibal''s body.


    "Cannibal, disengage!" Rhaegar''smanded


    For a moment, Cannibal was ovee by the intoxicating scent of blood. But reason wins out, and it obeyed its master''s orders.


    Releasing its grip, it tears a chunk of flesh before retracting, gulping down the spoils.


    Swiftly evading Vermithor''s potential counterattack, it nts its hind limbs on its foe''s abdomen, propelling itself into the air with a forceful leap.


    As Cannibal retreats, leaving behind a wounded and enraged Vermithor, the bronze dragon let out a roar of rage, blood cascading from its neck, barely able to maintain flight.


    With a half-hearted roar, Cannibal vanished into the clouds, its trail obscured from view.


    But just when it was out of reach, it emerged from below,unching another attack.


    As Vermithor, badly hurt and unable to dodge, felt the burning pain of Cannibal''s bite on his wing''s shoulder de, the sickening sound of bone breaking filled the air.


    In a blind rage, Vermithor ignored the pain in his neck as heshed out with a desperate attempt to bite Cannibal''s flesh with his powerful jaws.


    "Dracarys!"


    Rhaegar''s voice cut through the chaos, and he tightened his grip on the reins as he gave themand again.


    Cannibal released its grip and unleashed a torrent of Dragon me directly into Vermithor''s gaping maw, responding instinctively to its master''s voice.


    There was a loud boom!


    The dragon me hit Vermithor''s head with a bang, filling the air with thick, swirling smoke.


    For a brief moment, Vermithor was left dazed and disoriented, his neck sagging limply as his wounds seeped dragon blood.


    But even though he took a devastating blow, Vermithor''s strong defenses held up.


    He tried to regain his senses and take control of his battered body.

 Chapter 96: Dance of Triumph

    Chapter 96: Dance of Triumph


    "Roar..."


    Vermithor let out a roar that could be heard all the way up in the sky. It was a mix of anger and desperation as he tried to get revenge. His massive tail swung with great force, striking Cannibal''s abdomen and sending the dragon reeling.


    Cannibal, pushed by the blow, quickly got out of the way. But Vermithor was really angry; he shot a bunch of golden mes.


    "Cannibal, down!" Rhaegar''s voicemanded Cannibal to dive low to evade the mes.


    Cannibal plummeted earthward, avoiding the attack.


    Seizing the opportunity, Vermithor, despite his injuries, attempted to give chase.


    However, the pain from his broken shoulder de and weakened wings made it difficult for him to keep up, and he started to lose altitude.


    "Dracarys!"


    Before Vermithor could regain his bnce, Rhaegar''smand echoed.With agility, Cannibal circled around the wounded Vermithor, unleashing dragon mes.


    Despite his resilience and formidable physique, Vermithor found himself overwhelmed by Cannibal''s relentless assault.


    As Rhaegar observed the futile struggles of the bronze dragon, a revtion dawned upon him, he often wondered why he lost thest fight.


    Besides the fact that he fought Silverwing and Vermithor together.


    He realized that the key to victoryy not only in skillfulbat but also in exploiting the vulnerabilities of his opponents.


    And today, it was Vermithor''s swift and grievous injury that spelled his downfall, not Cannibal''s.


    In particr, after the fight with the shadow wyrm, Rhaegar had a realisation about the essence ofbat strategy.


    Unless faced with an overwhelmingly difference, relying solely on sheer size would prove futile in avoiding harm or even death.


    Dragons are naturally violent and fierce. Once they''ve used up their fire, they use their ws and fangs in closebat��weapons that are very lethal.


    If it hadn''t been for Cannibal''s quick thinking and Silverwing getting in the way, Rhaegar''s situation might have been much worse.


    His opponent could have easily killed him by ripping his stomach open and then finishing him off.


    With this in mind, Rhaegar decided to use Cannibal''s speed and the it''s fire as a advantage. He came up with a n to attack first and surprise his opponent.


    Cannibal''s unbeatable speed made it the perfect choice for the front line. It just needed to deliver a crushing blow, leaving its opponent vulnerable to the next attack.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal''s roars echoed through the sky as it unleashed fire on Vermithor, making the bronze dragon''s wounds worse and making it loseposure.


    ...


    Down below, amidst the dragon roars and explosive bursts, the Sheepstealer on the ground started to get restless.


    Casting covetous nces at the Silverwing lying in a pool of blood, the scent of it whetted it''s appetite.


    "Roar..."


    Once more, the Sheepstealer spread its wings and soared into the air, its casting a shadow over Syrax. Its aim was to intimidate thetter into retreat.


    Rhaenyra looked up at the brown dragon and her eyes shed. She gave a firmmand, "Dracarys!"


    "Roar..."


    Syrax waited until the right moment and then shot up, sting a mes at dragon''s face.


    The Sheepstealer was caught off guard and awkwardly bobbed its head to avoid the fire, its demeanor transforming into one of aggression.


    The Sheepstealer was one of the few untamed dragons that lived on Dragonstone. It had gained a bad reputation among the locals, even worse than the Cannibal.


    Despite its menacing countenance, the Cannibal had always maintained a reclusive distance from human settlements, sporadically appearing only in the vicinity of Dragonmont and refraining from causing harm to humans.


    The Sheepstealer was the opposite. It had an insatiable appetite for the herders'' sheep and loved the thrill of the hunt. Any attempts to stop it from preying were met with dragon me attacks, which often resulted in serious injuries or even fatalities.


    The Sheepstealer was enraged by the sight of the dragon before it.


    The Sheepstealer let out a loud roar, spewing an orange-colored dragon me from its mouth.


    The dragon me was pretty distinctive, kind of like mud dots that spread out over a wide area.


    "Move out of the way, Syrax!"


    Rhaenyra reacted quickly to the threat and moved Syrax out of the way, then fired a burst of dragon me back at the enemy.


    "Roar..."


    In its first battle, the young Syrax seemed to exude a sense of grandeur, roaring loudly as it unleashed a golden dragon me, which merged with the Sheepstealer''s attack and overpowered it.


    Frustrated by its inability to ovee the dragon me attack, the Sheepstealer''s fury intensified as it beat its wings vigorously in an attempt to overwhelm Syrax with its size advantage.


    However, Syrax, despite being smaller,pensated with remarkable agility, swiftly closing the distance and darting around its adversary with the grace of a seabird.


    After a few failed attempts to catch its prey, the Sheepstealer redirected its aggression towards the badly injured Silverwing.


    Its predatory instincts were focused on the vulnerable adult dragon, ready to deliver a fatal blow.


    "Roar..."


    Silverwing let out a terrified roar, its neck injury making it unable to move and defend itself properly. But the Sheepstealer wasn''t going to let that stop it. It descended on its target, ready to bite.


    "Dracarys!"


    Rhaenyra saw Silverwing was in trouble. She wanted to stop the Sheepstealer, urging Syrax to intervene and halt the Sheepstealer''s onught.


    In that moment, Rhaenyra felt a strong sense of worry. With Rhaegar engaged in a fierce aerial duel against Vermithor above, she could only hope for the best for his safety, her heart heavy with concern.


    Amidst her anxious thoughts, a deafening roar echoed from above.


    A huge bronze dragon came down from the sky, apanied by green mes.


    Vermithor bore the scars of battle, with blooding out of wounds on his neck, tail, and wings.


    With a determined look on his face, Rhaegar steered Cannibal into a steep dive, unleashing a torrent of mes upon Vermithor, pushing him downwards and preventing any chance of retreat.


    As they reached mid-air, Rhaegar told Cannibal to stop the attack. Cannibal slowed its descent with controlled wing beats. Vermithor, an expert at aerialbat, used his wings to slow his fall. He fell into the sea with a ssh, sending waves out in all directions.


    The dragon''s crimson blood mixed with the blue ocean, turning the water a dark red. The sea churned and boiled under the heat.


    A symphony of bubbles echoed through the waters.


    "Roar..."


    After a brief struggle, Vermithor''s majestic head broke through the surface of the sea, gasping for air.


    The waves were pretty wild, and Vermithor was having trouble pping his wings. He was trying to get to the shore, but his body was hurt, so it was slow going.


    Despite all the injuries he had, none of them were fatal. He managed to w his way back to the beach, where he copsed and panted, lost in thought.


    Rhaegar looked on from above, feeling a mix of relief and contemtion.


    Dragons were to be respected, not killed in battle.


    He gave Cannibal a pat on the back, his voice full of triumph. "Cannibal, we did it!"


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal lifted his head proudly, his emerald eyes gleaming with arrogance as he paced back and forth, his sinuous form tracing patterns of victory in the sky with his verdant dragon me.


    At that moment, he was the undisputed ruler of Dragonstone Ind. He had defeated Vermithor and Silverwing, and he was now in control of the ind.


    "Dragonstone Ind, your prince has returned!"


    Rhaegar''s promation echoed across the winds, celebrating Cannibal''s triumph and the sess of their strategy.


    But as the celebrations got underway, Rhaegar''s gaze shifted towards Rhaenyra, his expression showing a hint of concern.


    "Cannibal, let''s help!" he said, his voice showing a hint of urgency.

 Chapter 97: Lament of the Sheepstealer

    Chapter 97: Lament of the Sheepstealer


    "Dracarys!" Rhaenyra''smanded as she urged Syrax into battle against the Sheepstealer. Engaged in pursuit, the Sheepstealer''s hunger drove it to persist despite repeated skirmishes.


    Rhaenyra was totally focused, paying close attention to the rhythm of the battle as she guided Syrax. The sh of dragons was intense, with both of them trying to gain the upper hand. Their dragon mes intertwined in a deadly dance.


    But just as victory seemed within reach, the Sheepstealer deceptively retreated, luring Syrax towards the vulnerable Silverwing below.


    Rhaenyra reacted quickly, trying to foil the ambush with a barrage of dragon me, but the Sheepstealer had anticipated her move.


    Suddenly, the tables turned as the Sheepstealer unleashed a torrent of dragon me, engulfing both dragon and rider in fire.


    "Syrax, evade!"


    With horror etched across her features, Rhaenyra urged Syrax to turn, but it was toote.


    The mes descended upon them, forcing Syrax to contort in a desperate attempt to shield Rhaenyra from the brunt of the assault.


    "Roar..."In the blink of an eye, Syrax''s chest and abdomen bore the brunt of the dragon me, eliciting a cry of pain.


    Syrax was new to battle and struggled to maintain bnce amidst the pain. Her body lurching downward as she pped her wings.


    Vulnerable, she was easy prey for the Sheepstealer, whose eyes gleamed with hunger as he lunged for the kill.


    Rhaenyra, tethered by a chain around her waist, clung to the saddle, her body weightless as she braced for the attack with dread.


    With the Sheepstealer closing in, she could only watch helplessly as the ferocious beast descended upon Syrax, rending flesh with merciless ferocity.


    In the middle of the attack, a resounding dragon''s roar was heard, heralding the arrival of a ck dragon from above.


    The wind whipped by its wings and struck Rhaenyra, temporarily blinding her as she watched her brother''s mount descend with a roar, its ws poised to strike.


    "Roar..."


    The Sheepstealer''s agonized shriek echoed through the sky as Rhaegar''s dragon delivered a devastating blow.


    "Cannibal... it''s Rhaegar..."


    Blood trickled down Rhaenyra''s cheek as she beheld the figure in the ck dragon''s back.


    "Drag it away!"


    Rhaegar''smand was followed by the chilling sound of flesh yielding to ws.


    With a vice-like grip, Cannibal''s dragon ws mped onto the Sheepstealer''s ribs, exerting crushing pressure as it mercilessly snapped the dragon''s muzzle. With a quick p of its wings, Cannibal lifted its struggling prey into the air.


    The Sheepstealer was in agony, screaming in pain as it beat its wings in a desperate attempt to escape.


    Meanwhile, Syrax, who had been caught in the Sheepstealer''s grasp, quickly righted himself, avoiding a fall.


    Cannibal, enjoying its hunt, yed with its prey, easily keeping its grip despite the Sheepstealer''s frantic struggles.


    Rhaegar kept his gaze fixed on Rhaenyra, feeling a rush of relief as he watched Syrax regain control.


    He wasn''t aware of what had led to Rhaenyra''s confrontation with the Sheepstealer, but he was just worried about her safety.


    Rhaegar was grateful for his timely arrival and his expression hardened as he directed his fury at the Sheepstealer.


    "Cannibal! Throw it into the sea!" he said firmly.


    "Roar..."


    With a roar, Cannibal did as he was told, lowering himself towards the ocean''s surface with his captive in tow. With a final release of its ws, the Sheepstealer tried to escape, but was met with green mes that engulfed its head in searing agony.


    With a muffled pop, the Sheepstealer''s cries were suddenly silenced by the fire.


    The second dragon of the day fell into the water. The Sheepstealer''s fell, sending water into the air as it struggled to stay afloat in the rough waves.


    Cannibal kept a close eye on the situation, staying alert and ready to act as Rhaegar steered it.


    With each attempt by the Sheepstealer to get out of the sea, Cannibal met it with dragon fire, preventing any chance of escape.


    Dragons, creatures of fire, just weren''t built for the water. The Sheepstealer''s struggles were slowly sapped of strength as it gasped for air amidst the depths.


    As the drowning dragon''s desperate pleas echoed, Rhaegar remained firm in his resolve. He gave Cannibal a gentle pat on the back and said, "Let''s go, Cannibal."


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal grumbled a bit but did as he was told, turning away from the scene and flying off into the distance.


    Although it had wanted to drown the stubborn intruder to enjoy a future meal, Cannibal listened to its master.


    The Sheepstealer writhed like a trapped serpent, wing its way onto the shore with effort, its movements clearly showing fear.


    On the other side of the beach, Vermithor was absence. The tide had washed away any signs of him, leaving only the sand where he had been.


    Rhaegar realized this and made a beeline back to find Rhaenyra.


    "Rhaegar, I''m here!"


    Rhaenyra''s shout echoed from the cliff above.


    Rhaegar looked down and saw Syrax on the ground, with Rhaenyra standing nearby, her hair tousled and waving at him.


    Not far away, Silverwing, who was badly injured, had also disappeared without a trace.


    "Cannibal,nd," Rhaegar instructed.


    As Cannibal descended, Rhaegar slid down from its wing and rushed to Rhaenyra''s side.


    Their reunion was a whirlwind of emotions.


    He gave Rhaenyra a hug, his heart racing with concern. "Are you okay?"


    Rhaenyra shook her head, her face flushed with excitement. "I''m fine, thanks. Syrax protected me."


    Relief washed over Rhaegar''s features as he buried his head against her back. "You scared me to death. You went charging in, risking your life."


    Rhaenyra put an arm around him and gently stroked his head with her other hand. "I just wanted to help. But that brown dragon was after Silverwing."


    "Where''s Silverwing now?" Rhaegar asked, his tone casual but with a hint of concern.


    "Just as Vermithor climbed up from the cliff''s base, he flew off with Silverwing," Rhaenyra recounted, her voice tinged with fear.


    "Next time you face a dragon, you need to stay far away," Rhaegar advised seriously.


    Rhaenyra''s expression faltered, feeling embarrassed. "It was my first battle, and you''re scolding me, you are the younger here..."


    "No, my dragon is much bigger than yours," Rhaegar replied, sounding a bit annoyed.


    His confidence in engaging dragons came from two sources: his audacity and Cannibal''s size and courage.


    After defeating Vermithor and Silverwing, Rhaegar felt like he was unbeatable. But he couldn''t help but feel apprehensive about one dragon, Vaghar.


    Syrax was still a young dragon, less than twenty years old, while Cannibal was a formidable adversary. Rhaenyra had learned a valuable lesson from her brother: that actions speak louder than words, and defeat can be humbling.


    She crouched down to meet Rhaegar''s gaze, pressing her cheek against his and whispering, "You''re right, Rhaegar."


    Rhaegar gave her a warm hug, his cheek brushing hers as he murmured, "I missed you, sister."


    "Where have you been since that night? Father and I were worried about you," Rhaenyra murmured, burying her head in the crook of Rhaegar''s shoulder.


    At the mention of his experiences in the Penins, Rhaegar''s expression darkened. "I stumbled into a nest of savages. They were all insufferable��no intellect, nothing interesting to say."

 Chapter 98: The Queen’s Guilt

    Chapter 98: The Queen��s Guilt


    The siblings shared stories of their adventures.


    Before long, a group of guards showed up.


    "Rhaegar, Rhaenyra!"


    Viserys, looking a bit worn out but happy to see them, brushed past the guards and hurried towards his children with surprising speed.


    "Father!"


    Rhaegar''s face lit up at the sight of his father, though he couldn''t hug him with Rhaenyra still leaning on him.


    Rhaenyra was startled by her father''s arrival and turned to face him, greeting him timidly, "Father."


    She had slipped out of her chamber through the secret passage behind the Kingsguard, and she felt a twinge of nervousness at being caught.


    "It''s good to see you both safe," Viserys said, breathing a sigh of relief. He ignored his daughter''s subdued greeting as he focused on his son.He crouched down next to Rhaegar, his eyes scanning him with a look of paternal concern. He had dreamed of Rhaegar''s safe return, and now seeing him in the flesh, he felt a profound sense of relief.


    With an affectionate embrace, Viserys nted a kiss on Rhaegar''s forehead. "When the dragon roared on the ind, I knew it was you who had returned."


    Rhaegar wiped away the drool with a sheepish grin and bragged about his victories. "Cannibal and I defeated Vermithor and Silverwing. No dragon on the ind could match us."


    "You''re certainly bold, my boy," Viserys replied, his expression a mix of pride and concern.


    Since Rhaegar''s recovery, he had grown in many ways, but his audacity seemed to grow with each passing day.


    From taming a dragon without permission to engaging in battles on their doorstep upon his return, Rhaegar''s daring actions left Viserys wondering what the future might hold as his son matured.


    Viserys was filled with thoughts but showed only relief on his face. "You''ve never been an ordinary child, Rhaegar."


    In that moment, he recognized Rhaegar as the prince foretold in the Song of Ice and Fire prophecy.


    Indeed, Rhaegar had proven himself capable of taming thergest wild dragon ever seen and defeating the renowned Bronze Fury and Silverwing of the continent.


    "Come, I''ve prepared a grand feast to wee you home."


    Viserys gave his eldest son a yful pat on the head before lifting him up.


    As they walked, Viserys turned to Rhaenyra with a hint of reproach in his voice. "You disobeyed me again, Rhaenyra."


    "I''m sorry, Father," Rhaenyra apologized, bowing her head. "I was really worried about Rhaegar, so I couldn''t just wait around."


    "It''s not the first time you''ve disobeyed my orders," Viserys replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Let''s set that aside for now. You both seem to be in good spirits."


    "Yes, Father," Rhaenyra answered quietly, her gaze lingering on the father-son pair, a hint of longing evident in her eyes.


    ...


    Once they''d freshened up from their journey, the two siblings found themselves seated at the long table in the hall.


    Rhaegar told their father all about their adventures on the Penins in great detail, his eyes shining with excitement as he told about his exploits.


    Viserys, holding a goblet in his hand, listened to his eldest son''s stories patiently, his expression kind and attentive.


    However, when Rhaegar got to the part about the Shadowbringer''s head being resurrected and the mask being used to defeat the curse, Viserys''s face darkened slightly, and a hint of gravity clouded his features.


    Viserys saw magic and dragons as two dangerous forces. The idea of bringing the dead back to life and perpetuating curses made him feel ashamed and disgusted.


    "The House Brune and the Crabb family," Viserys said aloud, his voice tinged with concern. "It looks like we need to send someone to look into this..."


    His expression remained unchanged, but inwardly, Viserys was already calcting the depths of involvement of these two families.


    As Rhaegar kept talking, he noticed that his father and sister were getting more and more subdued. He felt a sense of unease creep over him.


    He thought his stories were pretty engaging. Why were they so passive?


    After a moment of reflection, he decided to share the news of the Penins nobles'' allegiance and the two thousand free men who had pledged their support and followed him across the sea.


    Viserys''s face changed as he processed this new information.


    Meanwhile, Rhaenyra pursed her lips and took a sip from her ss, her expression unreadable.


    Rhaegar stopped his story when he sensed something was wrong.


    "Sorry I''mte, but I hope you''re all ready." Alicent''s voice broke the silence just in time.


    The three turned to see Alicenting down the stairs, cradling the baby in one arm and leading Hena with the other, while Aegon trailed behind, apanied by a maid.


    Viserys paused for a moment, then turned to Rhaegar and said, "There are more than a few free folk following you. I''ll have them transported to the area near the woods first, just to make sure they have what they need."


    "Once you figure out how to use them, you can deploy them as needed."


    "Understood, Father," Rhaegar acknowledged.


    While the father and son conversed, Alicent made her way to the table and took her seat, her eyes filled with joy and emotion as she addressed Rhaegar, "The Seven Gods have blessed you with a safe return, Rhaegar."


    "Brother!" Hena''s voice rang out with joy as she stood up to greet her long-absent sibling.


    Rhaegar gave a small smile in response to Hena''s greeting, then turned to Alicent and said, "Thanks to Cannibal''s protection, I made it back safely."


    "The wild dragon?" Alicent''s puzzled expression matched her crossed arms.


    "Once I tamed him, he stopped being wild," Rhaegar rified.


    Alicent said, ��You showed great courage in taming an adult dragon all by yourself.��


    "On the other hand," she added, ncing at Aegon, "Aegon is still struggling tomand Sunfyre and has yet to seed."


    "Mom!" Aegon objected, his eyebrows furrowing.


    As Rhaegar observed Alicent''s hands, he noticed their roughness, which showed she''d been used to practical tasks like sewing and writing. Her fingers showed signs of recent injuries, with the wounds still fresh and unhealed.


    Rhaegar, who was well-versed in schrly matters, recognized these wounds as recent, likely inflicted in the past few days.


    Rhaegar paused before speaking, "Your Majesty, what happened to your hand?"


    "Huh?" Alicent seemed taken aback, looking at Rhaegar''s gaze and quickly covering her hand with a slight panic.


    Alicent offered a smile and said, "My apologies, perhaps it''s just the humidity of Dragonstone Ind making my hands itch."


    "Make sure to keep warm," Rhaegar added casually, though his tone was peculiar.


    While Dragonstone Ind was indeed humid, King''s Landing, being a seaside city, wasn''t significantly drier.


    Alicent''s excuse didn''t seem very convincing, and her nervousness only made Rhaegar more suspicious.


    Alicent quickly changed the subject, asking a servant, "Is the banquet ready? Please bring it forward at once."


    Viserys agreed.


    Rhaegar leaned in close to Rhaenyra and asked quietly, "Why is Alicent nervously tapping her fingers?"


    As Rhaenyra was Alicent''s former confidante, she was aware of such details and whispered back, "It''s a nervous habit of Alicent''s. Whenever she''s anxious, she tends to tap her fingers, often to the point of bleeding."


    "Nervous?" Rhaegar echoed silently.


    Why would someone be nervous?


    Fear, excitement...


    Or maybe it''s a sign of guilty?

 Chapter 99: Finding The Real Culprit

    Chapter 99: Finding The Real Culprit


    "Why was she afraid or guilty?" Rhaegar was thinking fast as he considered Alicent''s nervous behavior.


    Could it be that she was worried about him? Rhaegar doubted it. Knowing Alicent as he did, she would have preferred he never came back.


    Aegon would have one less brother topete with, making his path to the heirship clearer.


    As tes of fine food were set on the table and the feastmenced, Rhaegar mechanically picked his favorite food, finding them tasteless.


    Noticing his distraction, Rhaenyra nudged him with her elbow and asked, "What''s on your mind?"


    Furrowing his brow, Rhaegar abruptly rose from his seat, calling out, "Father!"


    Viserys looked up, puzzled. "What is it, Rhaegar?"


    Rhaegar''s expression grew serious as he asked, "Father, why does a man''s heart bes anxious?"


    Viserys looked up and put down his utensils. "A criminal may be anxious when he''s trying to avoid getting caught and even more anxious when he''s on trial.""Understood," Rhaegar nodded, his tone shifting. "The night I left, I was attacked by two dragons because someone fed Cannibal a dragon eggid by Silverwing."


    "So, who did this, or rather, who ordered it?" he demanded.


    The joy of family reunion couldn''t overshadow Rhaegar''s determination to get to the bottom of things.


    He was aware of the dangers lurking in the shadows, and this time, upon his return, he was determined to expose the mastermind behind the scenes and hold them ountable.


    As Rhaegar spoke, the room fell silent.


    Rhaenyra watched her brother with a mix of amazement and concern. She''d been wondering why the two dragons had targeted Cannibal, but her concerns for Rhaegar''s safety had made her focus on that instead of thinking more deeply about it.


    Now, with Rhaegar bringing it to light, she realized someone was plotting against him.


    Viserys''s expression darkened as he spoke, his voice gruff. "Since your disappearance, I''ve been investigating. The guards involved in feeding the dragon eggs were found dead on the beach."


    He paused, his gaze firm. "Rest assured, justice will be served."


    Rhaegar''s tone was somber as he continued, "Before I tamed Cannibal, I was lured into Dragonmont. Who was behind it?"


    Viserys''s expression twisted with guilt. "The guards were in the dark, and the Dragonkeeper was moved to a different post before I could get to the bottom of it."


    Then Rhaegar dropped another bombshell. "As I was leaving Vermithor and Silverwing behind, I was attacked by a third dragon��with scarlet mes!"


    Viserys shot up from his seat, his fists mming onto the tabletop. "You''re sure it was scarlet mes?" His voice was tight and urgent, each word carrying a sense of urgency.


    "I''m certain," Rhaegar said with a firm nod.


    Viserys''s eyes were aze with fury, his teeth clenched in rage. "Daemon! You despicable creature..."


    They both had a realisation. There were only two dragons with red mes: Caraxes and Meleys.


    Meleys was owned by Rhaenys Targaryen, his cousin. She was known as the The Queen Who Never Was and fought for the right to inherit the Iron Throne.


    Despite their differences, Viserys had faith in her character. Honor was everything to Rhaenys, and she wouldn''t risk the line of session.


    On the other hand, his brother, Daemon, recently expelled from King''s Landing, simmered with anger and resentment. With knowledge of Dragonstone''s secrets, including the Dragonkeeper''s dealings and secret passages, suspicion fell squarely on him.


    "It must be him," Viserys erupted, his fury palpable. "Because I refused to promise Rhaenyra to him, he''s gone and put my child in harm''s way!"


    Viserys''s anger shook him, and Alicent rushed to his side, urging him to calm down. But Viserys was relentless. "Summon the Maester to send a raven to King''s Landing and issue a warrant for Daemon''s arrest, dead or alive!"


    Harrold, guarding the doorway, offered a suggestion. "Your Grace, Daemon has a powerful dragon. Instead of rming him with a notice, we should alert the Vale first. He may be hiding in Runestone."


    "Excellent! Send messages to the Vale and every maester. Anyone who captures Daemon will be rewarded in gold equal to their weight."


    As Viserys fumed, Rhaegar interjected "Father, please calm down and take care of yourself."


    Viserys looked at him and said in a resolute voice, "Father will definitely get justice for you!"


    Rhaegar lokked at Alicent, sensing his father''s fragile state. His suspicions remained just that��suspicions.


    "I trust you, Father," Rhaegar said, trying to reassure him, though the atmosphere remained tense. Viserys, enraged, abruptly left the table, with Alicent following to tend to him.


    The once-festive family gathering dissolved into somber silence.


    As his parents disappeared around the corner of the stairs, Aegon got up and left without saying anything.


    He didn''t want to share a meal with his half-siblings, especially his brother, who he found particrly difficult to get along with.


    Meanwhile, Hena sat bewildered, uncertain of what had sparked her father and brother Rhaegar''s sudden anger. Despite her confusion, she was hungry, so she reluctantly nibbled on the cake in front of her.


    She kept her eyes on Rhaegar and Rhaenyra, noting the tension in their expressions, and tried to blend in.


    Meanwhile, Aemond was still asleep in his nanny''s arms, unaware of the tension in the air.


    Rhaenyra was the first to speak up, gripping Rhaegar''s wrist and asking him solemnly, "You disappeared because of an attack by Daemon?"


    "It''s likely," Rhaegar confirmed quietly.


    Releasing his hand, Rhaenyra''s fists clenched, her expression hardening. "That wretch, does he have no honor when ites to the throne?"


    "Don''t worry, he will face the consequences," Rhaegar assured her softly.


    "He tried to kill his own nephew," Rhaenyra said angrily, repeating her brother''s frustration.


    Her feelings towards Daemon had changed a lot since thest abduction. The man she once saw as a caring uncle had now lost her respect.


    Now, there was only one word to describe him: madman.


    ...


    As night fell, the castle was filled with a heavy silence.


    Viserys went to his room to try to forget his troubles with a few drinks until he passed out.


    Meanwhile, the rest of the household went to bed, trying to get some rest after a busy day.


    Alicent, unable to change her husband''s mind or calm her wild children, went to her room to get some rest. However, she couldn''t sleep, tossing and turning on the soft bed.


    She was thinking about what happened that day, especially Rhaegar''s conversation about guilt. Despite her insistence that Daemon was the culprit and she was innocent, she couldn''t shake the feeling that something was wrong.


    How could she find peace of mind when she was gued by such unsettling thoughts?

 Chapter 100: Warning

    Chapter 100: Warning


    Alicent''s head was throbbing with pain, and she let out a silent sigh as she closed her eyes, seeking sce in sleep.


    Time passed, and she found herself in a state of drowsy, half-consciousness.


    Knock, knock, knock...


    All of a sudden, the peace and quiet of her room was shattered by a loud noise.


    Alicent''s headache was so intense that she ignored the noise as just a minor distraction.


    Before long, the noise stopped, and she started to drift back into a deep sleep.


    But as she was about to fall asleep, she felt a sudden rush of warmth.


    It felt like she was sitting too close to a roaring firece, causing beads of sweat to form on her forehead.


    "It''s really hot in here...I''m thirsty."Alicent''s parched mouth was yearning for relief, and in her stupor, she reached out for the ss of water on her bedside table.


    However, her reaching hand encountered something unexpected��ayer of fabric.


    As she gently touched the fabric, she felt soft flesh beneath it.


    "Fabric... Soft flesh?"


    Alicent''s foggy consciousness suddenly came back to her, and she reluctantly opened her eyes to the dimly lit room.


    There she saw a figure in a ck robe sitting on the edge of her bed.


    In the figure''s hand was a coal brazier, its glow casting eerie shadows across the room.


    "Who are you?"


    Alicent''s heart was racing with fear, and she instinctively recoiled, clutching the covers tightly around her body.


    "It''s me, Your Grace."


    A familiar voice came from the figure, who then took off his hood and offered her a cup of water. "Here''s your water."


    Alicent''s eyes widened in disbelief as she strained to make out the visitor''s face.


    Alicent looked at the boy standing by her bed in disbelief and said, "It''s you, Rhaegar!"


    "Are you scared, Your Grace?"


    Rhaegar, wearing a ck robe, looked at his stepmother calmly.


    Alicent''splexion suddenly changed, and she scolded, "Why are you in my room? You should be asleep at this hour!"


    For a moment, she thought that another family member had snuck into her room, and the thought made her nervous.


    Rhaegar, holding the ss of water, tilted his head and said, "Are you not thirsty?" "Why don''t you take a sip?"


    "No, I''m not thirsty anymore. Leave this instant, do you hear me!"


    Alicent''s anger red, and she rebuked him mercilessly.


    "Very well, if you''re not thirsty," Rhaegar replied calmly, setting the ss aside. "But before I go, I would like to have a word with you."


    "There''s nothing to discuss. How did you manage to enter my room? Where is the guard at the door!?"


    Alicent was adamant about expelling her stepson from her quarters.


    Rhaegar chuckled softly and pointed to a wall in the room. "Isn''t there a secret passage in your chamber? A bit of exploration would reveal that."


    After the family banquet, he had sought out Cole to inquire about recent events on Dragonstone Ind.


    Through their conversation, he had learned of the existence of several secret passages within the castle, one of which led directly to the Queen''s chamber...


    When he looked at them, it confirmed some of his suspicions.


    So he hade tonight.


    Alicent followed Rhaegar''s lead and looked into the sealed secret passage. She subconsciously grabbed the sheet, her eyes flickering with panic as she asked uneasily, "What do you mean? What are you trying to tell me?"


    Rhaegar watched her carefully, sensing her reluctance. He started to tell a story. "I couldn''t help but wonder why there were always unexpected problems when I tried to tame my dragon."


    "Daemon bribed the Dragonkeeper to send a false message, which led me astray towards Dragonmont," she continued. "Before that, someone had sent me simr information, but pointing towards the east coast."


    Alicent''s expression shifted slightly as she replied, "I was the one who shared that information with Rhaenyra. It turns out that the two young dragons were indeed on the east coast, and Sunfyre was found pretty early on. I didn''t lie."


    "As you said, the intel from the East Coast was spot on," Rhaegar acknowledged. "Then the Gray Ghost showed up on Dragonmont. The dragon that should have been there wasn''t Cannibal, but Silverwing, in a sensitive period afterying her eggs."


    "Given that, is it possible that someone knew I didn''t trust them and intentionally gave me irrelevant information to guide me to Dragonmont?" Rhaegar''s voice softened, and Alicent felt her nerves start to tingle in the dimly lit room.


    Alicent''s face grew cold at his words, and she replied in a chilly tone, "This is all in your imagination. It was Daemon who set you up."


    "I was just trying to improve rtions with Rhaenyra. We''re like sisters."


    "Fair enough, your exnation makes sense," Rhaegar nodded, not discounting her words.


    He wasn''t there to use her tonight. There wasn''t any concrete evidence against the Queen. It was all just suspicion.


    Rhaegar bowed his head and ced the portable coal stove on the bed, gently opening the lid. The red-hot coals were exposed to the air, dispersing the darkness with their bright mes. In the glow, Rhaegar''s features, previously shrouded in shadow, were half-illuminated.


    "What are you doing?" Alicent''s nerves jangled at the sight, her mind racing with memories.


    "Nothing much. Since you don''t want water, let''s get warm," Rhaegar replied, reaching out to cup a piece of ember in his hand.


    He held it calmly and raised his hand between them. The coals glowed, casting light between them.


    Rhaegar kept his eyes neutral as he spoke calmly, "Your Grace, I''m sure you''re aware that my recent journey to the Penins wasn''t exactly peaceful. Many people who disrespected me met their end by Dragonfire."


    Alicent quietly moved to the other side of the bed, her face showing fear.


    Without advancing, Rhaegar continued, "I don''t know if you were involved, but I''d really appreciate it if you could set aside any prejudices you may hold against me, whether by ignoring them or adopting a more neutral stance."


    "I just ask that you don''t cause any trouble for me, my father, or my sister."


    With that, Rhaegar looked his stepmother in the eye.


    Click...


    His fists clenched, and he crushed the charcoal, causing it to spill onto the white bedspread.


    The broken coals ignited the fabric instantly.


    Alicent let out a scream of panic and quickly used a pillow to smother the embers.


    Rhaegar grabbed the cup of water nearby and started dousing the mes methodically, extinguishing them one by one.


    As the smoke cleared, Rhaegar''s face was still obscured, and his voice was barely above a whisper. "I hope you can retain somepassion, Your Grace."


    "What in the world are you doing? I''ve done nothing wrong, how many times do I have to say it?" Alicent''s irritation red as she verged on breaking down, her voice filled with anger.


    Rhaegar averted his gaze and interjected, "I believe you, for you are my stepmother, and I trust you to safeguard the children of your name, including myself and Rhaenyra."


    "I am the Queen, your father''s wife, and with that titlees a certain responsibility," Alicent replied, her expression hardening.


    She continued in a harsh tone, "But you shouldn''t treat your own mother with such disrespect. Trespassing into my room and threatening me with fire��I will tell your father about this and let him decide how to discipline a child who dishonors his name!"


    "As you wish, Your Grace," Rhaegar responded nonchntly, recing the lid of the coal stove and lifting it once more, ready to depart.


    However, just steps away, he paused as if remembering something, and turned back to say cryptically, "By the way, Aegon is my brother, and I value that kinship. It was through my own abilities that I managed to evade the murder."


    "But he is still young..."


    "Enough of this!" Alicent snapped, her neck straining, eyes reddened, and teeth gritted. "I will watch over my son, no matter what!"


    "Very well, "Mother"," Rhaegar replied with a sweet smile, bowing like an innocent child.


    He exited the bedroom slowly, carrying the coal stove, and disappeared through the entrance of the secret passageway under his stepmother''s hatefull re.

 Chapter 101: Relying on Each Other

    Chapter 101: Relying on Each Other


    "Ahhhhhhh!"


    Alicent let out a scream as Rhaegar left the room. Her frustration came out in a flurry of flung pillows and disheveled covers. She was moving around quickly, pulling at her hair in a desperate way.


    "Queen, is there anything you need?" the maid asked from the other side of the door. Her voice was filled with concern.


    "Get out! I don''t want anything, get out!" Alicent''s response was sharp andced with curses, her anger boiling over like a cauldron ready to spill.


    She was aware that her actions hadn''t gone unnoticed, which led to the chilling warning she had just received. Even the veiled threat against her own son, Aegon, hadn''t gone unnoticed.


    In the middle of her rage, Alicent started to cry, her head in her hands as she banged her forehead against the wall in an attempt to drown out her anguish.


    Amidst the blur of tears and the constriction of her throat, one phrase emerged, repeated like a mantra: "It wasn''t me, I really didn''t want to..."


    What she didn''t want remained a mystery to all but herself. But in the grand scheme of things, it didn''t matter at all.


    ...Outside the castle, Rhaegar emerged from the secret passage and looked up at the sky, where the moon was obscured by thick, dark clouds. He looked over at the distant cliffs and knew his dragon was resting there.


    "Never mind, Rhaenyra isn''t in a good mood today. Just go find her," he told himself, his thoughts surprisingly calm after the encounter with Alicent.


    Originally nning to findfort in Cannibal''spany, Rhaegar now felt a sense of relief at the thought of his sister. He made his way back into the castle with the coal stove in hand, a smile on his face.


    As he approached Rhaenyra''s door, he was surprised to find Cole, the guard stationed outside, waiting for him.


    "Prince," Cole greeted, his eyebrows raised in curiosity at Rhaegar''s unexpected visit.


    "I''m looking for Rhaenyra. We agreed to sleep together," Rhaegar replied matter-of-factly, concocting a story on the spot as he pushed open the door and entered the room without hesitation, breezing past the guard knights.


    As he stepped into the bedroom, Rhaegar took his time. There she was, Rhaenyra, lying peacefully on her side on the bed, her silver-gold locks cascading around her.


    Rhaegar approached his sister, observing her bold sleeping pose, and couldn''t help but shake his head with a bemused expression.


    "No wonder I''m always so overwhelmed," he muttered under his breath, only to be startled as Rhaenyra suddenly opened her eyes and fixed her gaze on him.


    Rhaegar was caught off guard and took a step back as Rhaenyra yfully pulled him onto the bed.


    "Sister," he greeted with a mix of surprise and amusement, settling onto the bed at her insistence.


    Rhaenyra yfully pinched his cheeks. "Rhaegar, who gave you the nerve toe into my room without asking?"


    "I have a dragon, so I can go wherever I want," Rhaegar replied, tilting his head defiantly.


    "Hmph, I think you need to be taught a lesson," Rhaenyra retorted, not one to put up with her brother''s antics. She then pinched his cheeks with one hand, which made Rhaegar''s face turn red and swell.


    Despite his best efforts to resist, Rhaegar found himself overpowered by his sister''s strength. Eventually, she relented and let go of him, satisfied with her yful teasing.


    Rhaenyra settled down on the bed next to Rhaegar, took off her coat, and curled up close to him, curious. "Where did you get that ck robe?"


    "Isn''t that what all the bad guys wear?" Rhaegar replied with a wry smile, adjusting his position to be morefortable.


    Rhaenyra couldn''t help but tease, "Oh, are you a bad guy?"


    Rhaegar blinked, his expression uncertain as he nestled closer to his sister. "I''m not sure."


    "Then no," Rhaenyra replied softly, running her fingers through his hair. "You''re my brother, and I''ll be relieved as long as youe back safely."


    Rhaegar remained silent, but he nestled even closer to her, findingfort in her embrace.


    Rhaenyra noticed the of concern in Rhaegar''s demeanor and asked, "What''s troubling you? Weren''t you quite spirited earlier, giving me a hard time?"


    "But I''m worried about you too," Rhaenyra responded, her tone softening. "You''ve been missing for days, and Father and I have been beside ourselves with anxiety."


    "I''m sorry," Rhaegar said sincerely, not wanting to dodge responsibility. He admitted that he''d been a bitx in taking care of important matters and had been spending too much time on less important things in the Penins.


    Rhaenyra''s expression softened, and she gave him a gentle kiss on the head, whispering, "It''s okay, as long as you''re back. Just promise me you won''t do it again."


    "Alright," Rhaegar nodded, epting the mistake.


    Feeling a bit flustered by his nod, Rhaenyra''s cheeks flushed slightly. "Go to sleep now. Tomorrow, you can talk to Father about everything."


    "Okay," Rhaegar agreed, putting his arm around her waist, findingfort in her presence.


    As theyy there in silence, Rhaegar suddenly spoke up. "Sister, some people say that I might hurt you..."


    Rhaenyra was too drowsy to open her eyes fully, so she tightened her hold on him and murmured, "That won''t happen. We''ve got each other''s backs."


    "Mmm..." Rhaegar replied softly, feeling reassured by her words.


    ...


    As the night gave way to dawn, Rhaegar woke up to find his sister sitting at the dressing table, carefully brushing her hair.


    He smiled as he blinked away thest of his sleepiness. "It''s good to be back home," he said to himself, feeling grateful to be back with his family.


    When Rhaenyra realized he was awake, she gently encouraged him to get up and join them for breakfast. With a nod, Rhaegar quickly got dressed, still thinking about what had happened the night before.


    Just as he finished getting dressed, there was a knock at the door, followed by Harrold''s calm voice. "Princess, is Prince Rhaegar in your chambers?"


    Rhaenyra exchanged a puzzled nce with Rhaegar before confirming his presence to the guard. "Yes, Ser. How may I assist you?"


    "The King wishes to speak with the Prince personally," Harrold ryed tersely.


    Rhaenyra''s brow furrowed with curiosity as she turned to her brother. Rhaegar merely shrugged in response, equally puzzled by the unexpected summons.


    "Go ahead,fort Father. He''s not feeling well," Rhaenyra advised gently.


    Rhaegar nodded and leaned in to kiss his sister on the cheek before leaving the room.


    Rhaenyra was amused by her brother''s departure and continued to prepare for the day ahead.


    ...


    After leaving his quarters, Rhaegar, with Harrold by his side, made his way to his father''s chamber door. Just as he was about to knock, the door to the room next door opened, and there was Alicent, being led by a maid.


    Their eyes met for a second, but Alicent didn''t say anything. She just nodded her head a little and kept going. With a smile, Rhaegar knocked on the door and went in. Harrold closed the door behind him and stood guard.


    As soon as he walked in, Rhaegar wrinkled his nose at the smell of wine that lingered in the air. Viserys was slouched in a reclining chair by a round table, his face flushed from drink but his gaze unusually sharp. Rhaegar couldn''t help but notice the scattered empty bottles, which seemed to be evidence of his father''s indulgence from the previous night.


    Rhaegar tried to ignore the smell as he approached his father. "Father, what can I do for you?" he asked.


    He''d been expecting to talk about his recent trip to the Penins or maybe the Free folk, but nothing as important as what Viserys brought up next.


    "Rhaegar, do you want to be the heir to throne?" Viserys''s words hit Rhaegar like a punch in the stomach, leaving him momentarily stunned.


    "What... what do you mean?" Rhaegar stammered, his mind struggling toprehend the unexpected proposition.


    "I''m going to change the rules of session and make you the new heir," Viserys said bluntly, trying to clear up the confusion on Rhaegar''s face.


    "No! Rhaenyra is the rightful heir, as has been decreed to the realm," Rhaegar responded firmly, his convictions unwavering.


    Quickly moving to his father''s side, Rhaegar searched his eyes, his voiceced with concern. "Has someone influenced you, Father? You''ve always defended Rhaenyra''s im. What''s changed your mind?"

 Chapter 102: Refusal

    Chapter 102: Refusal


    "Rhaegar, my son, no one has clouded my mind," Viserys reassured his eldest son, offering a gentle smile as he sped Rhaegar''s hand.


    Rhaegar was confused. He asked, "Then why do you want to change the line of session? Rhaenyra has done nothing wrong."


    "I was the one who recklessly tamed the dragon, who acted without authorization, and who ended up stranded in the Penins."


    He couldn''t understand why his father had made that decision. He was the one at fault, while Rhaenyra had only acted to rescue him, defying her father''s orders out of concern. Such actions didn''t warrant such severe consequences.


    "You''re mistaken, Rhaegar," Viserys said, his tone sincere. "My intentions run deeper than ming Rhaenyra for her actions. As my firstborn, you should''ve been the rightful heir."


    "However, as a child, you were too young to take on that kind of responsibility. So I made Rhaenyra the heir to what was yours."


    Rhaegar met his father''s gaze squarely and argued, "But Rhaenyra has proven herself capable and loyal to the family. That''s another reason not to rece her."


    "Yet she is a woman!" Viserys interjected sharply, his tone carrying weight. "And there are many who oppose her, far outnumbering those who support her."


    "I''m with her," Rhaegar said firmly, his demeanor shifting to one of resolve. "With a fully grown dragon by my side, any who challenge her will have to face the dragonfire."Viserys regarded his son with a mixture of amusement and pride, chuckling softly. "Ah, the sight of an adult dragon, indeed formidable, capable of vanquishing armies."


    But Rhaegar remained serious. "There is no jest in this, Father. The Cannibal has bested Vermithor and Silverwing, ranking among the strongest of dragons next to Vhagar."


    Rhaegar was confident in himself and his dragon.


    "Aegon the Conqueror''s attempt to subdue Dorne is a good example of what not to do," Viserys said without emotion. "Queen Rhaenys''s misfortune, with Meraxes''s demise due to a scorpion crossbow arrow, marked the downfall of their campaign."


    Rhaegar nodded knowingly, well-versed in historical ounts.


    "And yet, her death and the dragon''s demise signaled the failure of a grand conquest," Viserys continued, his tone firm as he grasped Rhaegar''s hand.


    "You need to know, Rhaegar, that relying too heavily on dragons can be dangerous. True power lies in winning the support of the people, not in the might of dragons alone."


    "But have you really won the support of our people?" Rhaegar thought about the ongoing rebellions and unrest across the realm.


    From the Ironborn raids along the coast to the persistent troubles along the Dornish border, these challenges showed that his father''s assertion of control wasn''t as strong as he thought.


    "Even Maegor the Cruel, with the formidable Balerion at hismand, ultimately met his downfall due to his tyranny. He faced rebellion and death upon the Iron Throne."


    Viserys continued, shifting the focus. "Do you think your dragons are as strong as Balerion''s? Are you as fearless as the warlike Maegor?


    Rhaegar was quiet for a moment, acknowledging his own limitations. He was still a young prince, and the Cannibal hadn''t reached its full potential yet.


    "I''m a prince of the realm," Rhaegar replied, thinking about his future. "I can serve on the royal council or fulfill my duties as a prince."


    Viserys looked at his son with a mix of love and wisdom. "Those are noble aspirations, my son, but too childish."


    Viserys shared a memory, his eyes betraying a hint of sadness as he spoke softly, "There was a time when Daemon and I were as close as you and Rhaenyra, bound by love and trust."


    "We were inseparable," he reminisced. "Before the 101st Council, I shed with my cousin Rhaenys about who should get to sit on the Iron Throne."


    "Daemon, with the Dark Sister at his side, swore to defeat anyone who stood in my way," Viserys went on, his voice tinged with admiration. "He was fearless and resolute."


    "Thanks to Daemon''s unwavering support, Grandfather Jaehaerys recognized the pressing need to address the issue of session, convening the 101st Great Council," Viserys recounted, his eyes misting over.


    "At the council, I secured my position as the family''s heir with an overwhelming majority," Viserys revealed, his voice quavering with emotion.


    "Rhaegar, can you and Rhaenyra really keep the unbreakable bond that Daemon and I had?" Viserys asked, his gaze intense.


    Rhaegar couldn''t meet his father''s gaze and lowered his head. "There''s always hope."


    Viserys'' tone softened as he leaned in and whispered, "I suggest you keep our family tradition alive."


    "Really?" Rhaegar''s eyes opened wide in disbelief, looking for confirmation from his father.


    Viserys nodded seriously. "Absolutely."


    "And has she agreed?" Rhaegar asked, his voice barely above a whisper.


    "Not yet," Viserys replied with a soft chuckle. "That''s why we''re having this conversation."


    Rhaegar stepped back and took his hand out of his father''s grasp, feeling a mix of emotions.


    He was feeling a bit of a mix of emotions, a bit of celebration and a bit of disappointment, which made him feel a bit down.


    He couldn''t shake the feeling that he was getting in the way of Rhaenyra''s ns, a thought that weighed heavily on his conscience.


    He was haunted by the words of Falcon and Skr, who had warned him of theplexities ahead. Rhaenyra''s future husband and children, and his own uncertain position in the line of session.


    "I''ll be another Daemon?" Rhaegar murmured, his thoughts all over the ce as he tried to calm down.


    Viserys shook his head emphatically, saying, "No way! You are Rhaegar, my firstborn, the prince destined for greatness. "You''re not going to go down the dishonorable path like Daemon."


    Viserys put his hands on Rhaegar''s shoulders and spoke in a serious tone, "As the future ruler of the Iron Throne, you''ll have the power to lead the realm."


    "Father, I''m prepared," Rhaegar replied, though his mind was in turmoil.


    Pushing his father''s hands away, Rhaegar backed away, muttering to himself, "Those words are your own, Father. Daemon was a man of sacrifice, but I can''t..."


    "You can''t what? Abandon your aspirations for the throne, or betray Rhaenyra?" Viserys interrupted gently, his smile serene. "You''ve gained the loyalty of the Penins nobles, which is a pretty big deal for a prince."


    "Father, your words are making me feel the same way I did when the Penins nobles pledged their allegiance," Rhaegar said, his voice getting deeper as he tried to stay calm.


    "I cannot bring myself to harm Rhaenyra. She would despise me, and I would despise myself."


    With a heavy heart, Rhaegar turned to leave without looking back, his mind made up.


    Viserys didn''t try to stop him. He kept his tone firm, saying, "My son, choices are unavoidable. You''ll face these choices again and again."


    "Then I will await the day when the choice is clear, the day Rhaenyra no longer allows me to remain in King''s Landing," Rhaegar dered as he exited the room.

 Chapter 103: Is it Rhaegar?

    Chapter 103: Is it Rhaegar?


    Bang...


    The door mmed shut with a loud thud.


    Viserys sank into his chair, closed his eyes against the throbbing headache, and let out a weary sigh.


    Creak...


    The door opened again, and Harrold''s voice echoed in the room. "Your Grace, the prince has been adored by the princess since childhood. Your proposal is too sudden and harsh for him."


    "He must face it eventually," Viserys responded, lowering his head. "Rhaenyra is gentle andcks a clear vision. If she inherits the Iron Throne, it won''t benefit her or the kingdom."


    "But you still chose the princess," Harrold said, sounding a bit helpless.


    "Yes, she and I are simr��a weak father and daughter," Viserys admitted, a self-deprecating smile on his lips.


    He just wanted to rule by winning hearts and minds, but it was just an excuse for his own mediocrity and ipetence.In his heart, he envied his brother Daemon and his eldest son Rhaegar, both of whom embodied a fearless spirit and the audacity to wield a sword.


    But Viserys was naturally weak. His life had been smooth and the throne had basically been handed to him on a te, so to speak, allowing him to reach the pinnacle without much effort. Everything had gone too well.


    His grandfather Jaehaerys had not lived long enough to instill in him the courage to lead decisively.


    Now, Viserys was hoping for a strong leader to take the throne after him, to bring back the glory of House Targaryen. He thought his eldest son, Rhaegar, could be that man.


    After a moment of silence, Viserys beckoned Harrold and said with a weary breath, "Summon Rhaenyra. Tell her I need to speak with her."


    Harrold nced at the sorrowful king and nodded, "Yes, Your Grace."


    ...


    Rhaegar was in a hurry as he ran through the corridor, his panic getting the better of him until he found himself outside the castle.


    By the time he realized where he was, he had reached the cliffs.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal let out a low growl as it sensed its master''s presence. Its massive form loomed above him. The dragon could tell that Rhaegar was scared, which was out of character for the usually bold prince.


    Rhaegar looked up at the enormous ck dragon, towering like a mountain, and gasped, "I need some air, partner."


    The Cannibal stood up, wrapped its tail around Rhaegar''s waist, and hoisted him onto its back.


    "Roar..."


    With a mighty p of its wings, the dragon took off, soaring into the sky and cutting through the clouds.


    Flying in circles was a simple task, but for Rhaegar, the sky and sea offered a much-needed escape, washing away his confusion and fear.


    ...


    Inside the Castle


    Rhaenyra washed up and walked down the hall for breakfast. Alongside her was a haggard-looking Alicent.


    Rhaenyra ate small bites of bread, her demeanor light and carefree. Alicent, on the other hand, didn''t seem to have much appetite. She nced at Rhaenyra from time to time. She opened her mouth several times as if to speak, but then stopped herself.


    Rhaenyra couldn''t help but chuckle to herself. This former sister of hers had a real ir for drama. She had no idea what Alicent had been through the night before and subconsciously assumed that Alicent had some kind of agenda.


    "Princess, the King has summoned you," Harrold said softly as he approached the table near the end of breakfast.


    Rhaenyra wiped the corner of her mouth with a handkerchief and asked, "Where''s Rhaegar? Has he had breakfast yet?"


    "Not yet. The prince had something to attend to and went out," Harrold replied, forcing a smile. He hesitated before adding, "It would be best if you saw the King first. It''s very important."


    "Yes, Ser," Rhaenyra responded, frowning curiously as she left the table.


    ...


    Not long after, Rhaenyra entered her father''s room.


    Viserys had been waiting for a while and greeted her with a smile. "Please, have a seat, Rhaenyra."


    "What did you want to see me about?" Rhaenyra asked as she slowly stepped forward and pulled out a chair to sit across from him.


    Viserys'' smile seemed a bit too good to be true, deepening her suspicions. He poured himself a ss of wine, took arge gulp, and then looked down, his expression troubled.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes narrowed as a thought crossed her mind. Pursing her lips, she said leisurely, "Rhaegar returned safely. You gave me a choice..."


    "No! No talk of your marriage today," Viserys interrupted hastily, his voice tinged with fear.


    Rhaenyra breathed a sigh of relief andughed softly. "What else could be so difficult for you besides this?"


    She had foolishly assumed her father was trying to rush her marriage, she''d already made up her mind, though.


    Viserys lifted his head, meeting his daughter''s gaze, and said with difficulty, "Rhaenyra, I think Rhaegar is a fine boy��brave and clever."


    "Of course, Rhaegar is restless, but he always has a n," Rhaenyra replied, smiling at the thought of her brother.


    He was the only blood rtive her mother had left her, the one she would rely on.


    Viserys paled slightly when he heard his daughter say that Rhaegar was restless. He drained his ss.


    "Rhaenyra, you are a smart, kind girl. Have you ever felt that being the heir brings you pressure, making it difficult to breathe?" Viserys kept his smile, asking tentatively.


    "From time to time, yes, but you have been supportive, and Rhaegar has helped me. I am blessed to have you both," Rhaenyra replied with a smile, sping her hands behind her back.


    These words pierced Viserys'' heart like a sharp de. He struggled to breathe, his chest tightening.


    "The dream hase back to me. Rhaegar is the prince of the prophecy. I need to make a decision!" Viserys repeated these words in his mind and then pushed himself up and opened his mouth.


    Bang!


    The goblet fell heavily on the table. Viserys looked up, his face serious. "Rhaenyra, I need to be honest with you. The reason I called you here is to discuss changing the heir."


    After holding back for so long, Viserys finally opened up and felt a mix of relief and anguish. At least he''d said it. It was better to be honest, even if it was painful, than to hide the truth.


    Rhaenyra froze at his words, her breath seeming to stop as disbelief appeared in her eyes. What had she heard? Her father, who had always supported her, was talking about changing the heir.


    She was going to be reced!


    Viserys stood up and walked quickly to Rhaenyra, speaking with difficulty, "Rhaenyra, I know this is hard to ept. You''ve been the heir for six years. But your position was always precarious. I had to consider a more suitable heir."


    "As your father, I hope you understand. I love you, and I''m not making this decision lightly."


    Viserys saw his daughter''s shocked expression and tried to exin further, trying to soften the impact of his words.


    After a few moments, Rhaenyra blinked and processed the news. She lifted her head and looked her father straight in the eye.


    There was noining, no crying, no hysteria. Rhaenyra was calm. She ced a hand over her heaving chest to steady herself.


    With her other hand, she grasped her father''s, forcing a smile as she asked, "Father, is it Rhaegar?"

 Chapter 104: The Future Dream

    Chapter 104: The Future Dream


    Dragonstone Ind, Coastline


    The ck dragon soared through the sky, weaving between clouds and sea. After a while, itnded on a cliff, settling on the rocky ground.


    Rhaegar was lying on the dragon''s back, closing his eyes to feel the cool breeze on his face. The Cannibal roared softly and lowered its body to the ground, connecting its head and tail, ready to sleep.


    the ground, connecting its head and tail, ready to sleep.


    Rhaegary still, eyes closed, and gradually slipped into a dream.


    He had a brief dream.


    He saw the castle on Dragonstone Ind. His sister, Rhaenyra, was captured by a group of men. A sharp de sliced through her skin, and blood soaked her skirt. She struggled, screamed, and cursed something he couldn''t hear. Rhaegar watched from a distance, unable to help.


    Out of nowhere, a dragon''s mouth opened and bit into Rhaenyra''s shoulder. The dragon''s fangs tore through her body, causing a lot of pain. Rhaenyra''s face went pale as she screamed and cursed the person who had betrayed her.


    "Brother, I curse you! You will fall into the Seven Hells!"Her curses echoed in his mind. Rhaegar heard them loud and clear. She was cursing him, her brother.


    Rhaegar suddenly woke up, and the dream started to fade. In the final moments of the dream, he saw Rhaenyra torn apart by the dragon, her body swallowed piece by piece.


    Her desperate cries kept him awake as he suddenly woke up.


    "No!....."


    The image of his sister''s tragic death really upset him. Rhaegar sat up, his heart racing and his breathing heavy.


    "Roar......" the Cannibal growled softly, sensing its master''s distress.


    Rhaegar looked out into the distance, the vivid dream still fresh in his mind. He couldn''t shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him.


    He was alone with the wind, the waves, and the gentle rumble of the dragon beneath him.


    Rhaegar looked around. The blue sky and white clouds were calm, with no hint of the nightmare''s gloom.


    "Just another dream," he said to himself.


    He took a deep breath and tried to shake off the dream, to separate it from reality. He started to sweat, and he wiped it away, feeling the chill of his own skin.


    Rhaegar tried to calm his breathing and gradually shake off the fear that had gripped him.


    "When did I fall asleep and have such a bad dream?"


    He lowered his head, holding his forehead, his heart racing with the lingering fear. He couldn''t believe he''d fallen asleep on the back of a dragon, let alone had such a horrifying vision.


    Rhaenyra was his closest rtive and his only sister. But in his dream, she was eaten by a dragon, and she died a horrible death. He could still hear her final cry, cursing him, ringing in his ears.


    Rhaegar looked down at his hands, feeling anxious. "Was she cursing me?"


    Was he the one who condemned Rhaenyra to such a fate?


    "No way! It can''t be me!"


    After a moment of thought, he sharpened his eyes and solidified his resolve to protect his sister.


    "Rhaenyra will be in danger in the future. This shouldn''t happen."


    He denied the notion that he was the brother in her dream.


    Rhaegar nced at the sleeping Cannibal beneath him and slid down one of the dragon''s wings, heading toward the castle.


    He needed to see Rhaenyra and talk to his father again.


    ...


    When Rhaegar returned to the castle, he learned from Ser Cole that Rhaenyra had been called away by their father. His heart raced with worry, and without hesitation, he made his way to his father��s room.


    As he approached the door, he saw Harrold standing guard. The old knight noticed himing down the hallway and was about to speak when Rhaegar raised a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture.


    Harrold, experienced and perceptive, immediately fell silent and bowed his head, stepping aside.


    "Thank you," Rhaegar whispered as he reached the door.


    Just then, he heard Rhaenyra''s voice from inside.


    "I had long guessed this day woulde, but I didn''t expect it toe so soon!"


    Rhaegar felt a sinking feeling in his heart. He reached out to push the door open, but Harrold gently held his shoulder, signaling him to wait. Rhaegar looked at him in confusion, but Harrold''s serious expression and silent gesture made him pause.


    "Rhaenyra, you''re a great girl, but the Iron Throne needs a strong leader," Viserys said from inside.


    Rhaegar leaned against the wall and listened closely.


    "Father, I''m also a dragonrider," Rhaenyra replied, her voice firm. "I''d rather be a knight leading a charge than be seen as a liability."


    Viserys let out a sigh. "The world��s prejudice is like a mountain. They think you''re not fit to be a knight, let alone a queen."


    "That''s no reason to rece me. You never listened to that kind of advice before," Rhaenyra replied, her voice wavering slightly.


    "I never doubted your fitness for the Iron Throne because you are a woman," Viserys said apologetically. "But I had a dream of a prince crowned with the Conqueror''s Crown, changing the world in blood and fire."


    "And that prince was Rhaegar?" Rhaenyra asked quietly.


    "Yes, the night before Rhaegar returned, I had that dream again. The prince was Rhaegar as an adult, and I could not mistake it."


    Rhaenyraughed bitterly. "An absurd reason, as absurd as the one you used to choose me as your heir."


    "Rhaenyra, Rhaegar is my eldest son..." Viserys began, but his voice trailed off.


    There was a sudden opening of the door in the middle of Viserys'' sentence.


    The two people inside were startled by the sudden sound. They turned to see an expressionless Rhaegar standing straight in the doorway.


    "Rhaegar, I thought you''d left. What are you doing back here?" Viserys'' expression shifted slightly, and he reprimanded in a low voice.


    Rhaenyra nced at her brother slyly. She tried to form a smile, but her lips only twitched without sess.


    "We''re family, and I''m entitled to take part in these discussions," Rhaegar said, stepping into the room. He turned and closed the door behind him.


    He walked over to Rhaenyra and took one of her hands.


    Rhaenyra gave a little struggle, but Rhaegar held her hand firmly. Her hand was smooth, but it felt cold to his touch.


    He looked at her tear-streaked face and said, ��Sister, I won��t hurt you, and I don��t want to take away what belongs to you.��


    Rhaenyra looked back at him, her eyes filled with sadness. She just shook her head.


    Her father had already decided to rece her as heir, and there was no way to change his mind.


    "I''m tired, Rhaegar," she said, her eyes red with tears.


    She had thought about being angry, about venting her frustration.


    But that would only make her look bad and make her father dislike her even more.


    Since the day she became heir to the throne, she had never enjoyed a single day of peace.


    Now that her father had rejected her, she felt even more exhausted.


    She thought it was pathetic and ridiculous to have even considered sitting on the Iron Throne.


    She feltpletely powerless, unable to even think about fighting with her brother to defend her im.


    Seeing his sister in tears, Rhaegar felt a surge of anxiety and hugged her.


    Then, he let go of her hand and turned to face his father.


    "Father, it is not appropriate to change the heir, and I do not intend to take on such a heavy burden," Rhaegar said, trying to appeal to his father.


    Viserys shook his head. "It is not as simple as you think, Rhaegar."


    "The Iron Throne needs a strong king to sit on it, and Rhaenyra isn''t very decisive. She will only weaken the rule of House Targaryen rather than revitalize it."

 Chapter 105: Rhaenyra’s Conditions

    Chapter 105: Rhaenyra��s Conditions


    "I said I could help her. My dragon and I are enough to quell any rebellion," Rhaegar stated confidently.


    He was haunted by his dreams, unsure why Rhaenyra had suffered so.


    But he knew one thing for sure: as long as he stood by Rhaenyra''s side, they were safe. They were born of fire and nothing could stop them.


    Viserys red at his eldest son, seething with anger. That ungrateful wretch. He was offering him the throne!


    Daemon would even go so far as to seduce his own niece and murder his nephew just to get a chance at the crown.


    While Rhaegar, the eldest son and rightful heir, seemed uninterested in it.


    Maybe Rhaenyra didn''t want the throne either.


    But it didn''t matter; Rhaegar was still too young to understand the allure of power. At some point, he''ll understand the importance of being an heir.


    Viserys sneered, his voice forceful. "Changing the heir is not a suggestion, it is an order for you and Rhaenyra! No one can refuse the King''s will!"Rhaegar stood his ground, meeting his father''s gaze with stubbornness. "I will not obey. You cannot force the position of heir on me."


    "You would defy me as well, Rhaegar?" Viserys raised an eyebrow, his eyes darkening.


    "If your orders mean hurting Rhaenyra, then yes, I will," Rhaegar replied.


    "Very well," Viserys said coldly. "Both of you siblings have defied your father and your king. You are truly brave."


    The scene of Rhaegar defending Rhaenyra seemed to agitate Viserys further, a chilling coldness shing under his eyes.


    He aimed his words like a spear at Rhaenyra. "Rhaenyra, your brother has learned from your capriciousness, and that is one of the things I find most infuriating."


    Rhaenyra turned her face away, scowling. She felt like she was just a pawn in this family struggle, a victim of the political machinations.


    She knew that whatever she said would be wrong, so there was no point in speaking.


    She was caught between defending her brother and her father''s harsh decree. She was at a crossroads, uncertain of her future.


    Viserys'' gaze shifted back to Rhaegar. "I will not tolerate your defiance. If you disobey my will, you will face consequences you cannot imagine."


    Rhaegar looked confused, not understanding why his father was acting this way.


    Viserys continued, "As a heir, Rhaenyra''s marriage has always been a big deal."


    "Now that she''s no longer the heir, she''ll be marrying as a princess. Laenor Vryon, Jason Lannister, or Tnd, and even Prince Martell of Dorne are all good options."


    Rhaegar and Rhaenyra''s expressions changed dramatically. They stared at their father, who had always been kind, now dictating their futures.


    Involved in her own marriage, Rhaenyra reacted strongly, her voice tinged with sorrow, "You have the right to change the heir, but why make it difficult for your daughter? I have already lost the throne."


    "Your indecision is what''s got us here," Viserys said. He was determined to teach his unruly children a lesson.


    Of course, he wouldn''t truly use Rhaenyra as a mere pawn in marriage. She was his daughter, his eldest with histe wife, Aemma Arryn.


    But to ensure Rhaegarplied, a degree of coercion was necessary.


    And it worked like a charm, the effect was immediate.


    Rhaegar stood there, looking at his father with a mix of hesitation and uncertainty. It was hard to reconcile the kind man he had always known with this cold, ruthless figure.


    Rhaegar felt a sense of powerlessness wash over him. For the first time, he really grasped the significance and reality of power.


    Rhaegar slowed down and said with difficulty, "Father, why do you want me to inherit the Iron Throne?"


    He couldn''t understand why his father was so determined to make him the heir.


    "Because you''re the prince of prophecy and the first heir. You deserve to sit on the Iron Throne," Viserys said firmly.


    "You alone tamed thergest wild dragon ever seen, and you have conquered numerous nobles and savages in the Crackw Point. Given your achievements, shouldn''t you be the heir to the throne?"


    Viserys believed that Rhaegar was the prince from his dreams, destined to elevate House Targaryen to greatness.


    Rhaegar hesitated for a moment before saying, "Father, if you seek peace in the kingdom, I can serve as guardian of all the realm. If you want the Targaryen family to reim its prestige."


    "I can defeat the pirates of the Stepstones and the raiders of the Iron Inds. I can even conquer Dorne with the dragons and bring the Seven Kingdoms firmly under Targaryen rule."


    "And if you think that''s not enough, I can take on the Free Cities, the ver''s Bay, and thends of Essos. Even if it takes my entire life, I will bring thesends under the rule of House Targaryen."


    At this point, he looked back at Rhaenyra and said earnestly, "But for all this to happen, please do not deny Rhaenyra her rightful ce. Give me a little more time; I will grow into my role soon. Please, Father, really, please."


    The words of the young prince were heartfelt and sincere, without the slightest hint of falsehood.


    But whether it moved the king, who had already made up his mind, remained to be seen.


    Behind him, Rhaenyra was already in tears, covering her cheeks with one hand, unable to stop the tears from rolling down as she looked at her younger brother.


    "s..." Viserys sighed deeply, feeling his eldest son''s resistance.


    He turned to Rhaenyra and hesitantly asked, "Rhaenyra, what do you say?"


    His stance with Rhaegar was clear, but now it was Rhaenyra''s turn to take a stand.


    "The heirship is Rhaegar''s, and I will return it to him and support him as he has supported me," Rhaenyra said without hesitation, holding back her sobs.


    At this point, the status of a heir no longer mattered. With Rhaegar''s words, despite her thousand reluctances, she was satisfied.


    It was enough.


    "Rhaenyra!"


    Rhaegar shouted, unwilling to ept her decision.


    Rhaenyra shook her head vigorously, choking back her tears. "Rhaegar, from the moment I became heir, I''ve fought against prejudice. I wanted to be a beloved queen, to abolish unjust rules, to establish a new order."


    "But I don''t have the wisdom of a true queen, nor the sensitivity of Aunt Rhaenys."


    "You''re my brother, and I can''t ept you sacrificing your life to fulfill my ideals."


    She might not have the wisdom to be a great ruler, but she wasn''t blind. Rhaegar was better suited to be the heir. He was speaking for her benefit, and she couldn''t just take over his life.


    At this moment, she had to stand up for her brother.


    Rhaegar''s eyes reddened as he said softly, "Rhaenyra..."


    "Don''t get emotional, I have my own ns."


    Rhaenyra wiped away her tears and took him into her arms. She turned to their father, staring him down. "Aspensation for stepping aside, you must fulfill my conditions."


    "As part of the deal, you have to meet my conditions."


    Viserys stood there, silent, gripping the round table. It was as if he were in a different time and ce from his children. He wasn''t sure if he''d made the right call in removing his daughter''s heirship and recing it with his eldest son��s.


    This was in line with his character��when he faced a problem, he was prone to self-doubt.


    He snapped back to reality when he heard his daughter speak. His eyes were a little vacant until Rhaenyra repeated herself.


    He nodded repeatedly and smiled in a conciliatory manner. "I''ve already got a solution for you."

 Chapter 106: Rhaegar’s Promise

    Chapter 106: Rhaegar��s Promise


    Viserysid out thepensation n for his children to see. "After the exchange ceremony, you''ll keep your honorary position as Princess of Dragonstone, and Dragonstone will be your fiefdom for life."


    Rhaenyra listened quietly, holding Rhaegar like a doll, with no visible reaction.


    Viserys paused, looking at Rhaegar. "Rhaenyra, if you still want to go ahead with your previous choice, I''ll respect your decision and give you the right of first refusal."


    Rhaenyra looked at Rhaegar��s face and shook her head. "Not enough!"


    Being Princess of Dragonstone and having Rhaegar as her protector was already her due. This was not truepensation. She had other conditions in mind.


    "Maybe we should talk about the terms together, Rhaenyra," Viserys said gently, not letting her rejection of his initial offer get to him.


    Rhaenyra looked at her father, noting his guilty expression. She knew this was her chance to secure her future. If she lost her status as heir, she had to make the most of this opportunity.


    Nuzzling her brother''s flushed face, she turned to her father and said firmly, "Along with your offer ofpensation, I want your promise that you will never interfere with my marriage."


    Viserys frowned slightly. Allowing Rhaenyra autonomy in her marriage was already a significant concession. Her demand forplete freedom in choosing her spouse caught him off guard."Father, Rhaenyra has lost enough," Rhaegar said softly, bowing his head as if discussing something trivial. Losing her heirship had shamed him, and he wanted nothing more than to fulfill all her conditions.


    Viserys stared at his son for a moment before bursting intoughter. Although theughter was a bit forced, he showed his most generous side.


    He opened his mouth to speak...


    ...


    Night


    Rhaenyra, in a silk nightgown, sat in front of her dressing table,bing her silver hair. Her eyes were red and puffy as she stared silently at her reflection in the mirror.


    Knock, knock...


    A knock on her door broke the silence. Rhaenyra looked back and whispered, "Pleasee in."


    She knew only one person woulde to her room at this hour. Yet, the door remained still.


    Confused, Rhaenyra stood up and walked toward the door. She hesitated with her hand on the handle, wondering if something was wrong.


    "Is something wrong?" she asked softly, leaning her head against the door.


    Nothing but silence.


    Rhaenyra turned the knob and tried to open the door.


    Bang...


    Just as she was about to open the door, she noticed a small crack forming on the outside. Through the gap, Rhaenyra could see a white shadow standing at the edge of the corridor, about ten meters away. It was Cole who stepped aside to let the visitor in.


    Since there weren''t any outsiders around, Rhaenyra said, "Rhaegar, if you have something to say, talk to me in person."


    Still no movement.


    Growing impatient and slightly angry, Rhaenyra said, "Rhaegar, if you don''t speak, I''m going to sleep."


    After leaving their father''s room, Rhaegar had left without a word. She hadn''t eaten lunch or dinner, waiting for her little brother toe to her door so they could have a heart-to-heart chat.


    The door opened slightly from the outside, revealing a sliver of space. Rhaenyra took half a step back, staring intently at the doorway.


    Rolling...


    With a soft, metallic sound, a gold coin rolled into the room, spinning in an erratic manner. Rhaenyra crouched down and picked up the coin quickly.


    As she lifted her head, two more gold coins rolled into the room. She quickly reached out and grabbed them.


    Upon closer examination, Rhaenyra realized that the coins were not like the unique golden dragons of Westeros. They didn''t look like the coins from the Free Cities or Essos either.


    One side of the coin bore the number 1, and the other side featured a tower encircled by dragons, towering into the clouds to form a magnificent fortress.


    Rhaenyra rattled the coins in her hand and asked through the doorway, "Where are these gold coins from? I''ve never seen them before."


    "It''s a relic from Ancient Valyria," said a familiar, muffled voice from outside the door.


    Rhaenyra recognized the voice and smiled, trying to push the door open further.


    Bang...


    The door was shut again from the outside.


    The voice whispered, "These three gold coins are thepensation I brought you."


    "Three antiques..." Rhaenyra weighed the coins in her hand and said with amusement, "A goodpensation, I ept."


    Although the coins were useless in a practical sense, she wanted to make her brother feel better.


    "No! Three gold coins are not worth anything at all," his voice grew agitated. "Father promised you three conditions aspensation, and so did I."


    "What do you want?" Rhaenyra asked.


    "I don''t yet have the right or the wealth to make it up to you, but I will grow up soon. Keep these three gold coins, and when I am older, I promise to fulfill your three wishes."


    His words were a bit childish, but his voice was full of determination.


    After a day of ups and downs, Rhaenyra''s expression grew somber as she sighed softly. She turned around and slowly slid her back against the door until she was seated on the floor.


    Holding the three gold coins in her hand, she sat back and thought about what to do next.


    She wasn''t the only one struggling with the change in the heir position. Besides her father, who initiated the change, her younger brother, who adored her, was also affected.


    Rhaenyra leaned her head against the door, closed her eyes, and said, "I''ll keep them."


    As she spoke, her thoughts wandered. She was afraid. Afraid that this would hinder Rhaegar''s growth.


    Despite the tumult of her teenage years, she at least had a good childhood, filled with love from her kind father and strict mother.


    She had inherited her father''s gentle nature and her mother''s bravery and pride from the Vale of Arryn family.


    But Rhaegar was different. He was born without a mother and began suffering from illnesses as a baby.


    Fearing the pain of losing his eldest son, Viserys avoided seeing Rhaegar, leaving him fatherless in all by name.


    That changed six months ago. Rhaenyra tried to make up for Rhaegar''sck of motherly love by caring for him as a sister. It was clear that Rhaegar was fiercely protective of her today.


    They loved each other deeply. But how would they face each other in the future? Rhaenyra worried that Rhaegar might be paranoid.


    The Targaryen bloodline of madness always lurked within each member, waiting to surface.


    Rhaenyra stopped talking and thought about the future.


    Outside the door, a small figure crouched on the ground, leaning against the door.


    He listened for the sound of breathing on the other side. Scattered at his feet were sapphires, ancient books, jewelry, and even a precious space bracelet.


    He had hoped to use these to repair the damage done to Rhaenyra, but they didn''t carry the same weight as the three gold coins.


    His eyes were dark and uncertain as he wrapped his arms around his legs, murmuring to himself:


    "Sister, I don''t want the throne, but I will hold on to it. Any opposition in the future will have to face dragonfire."


    His voice grew steadier, traveling through the door to Rhaenyra. "My promise stands. If you want it, I also want it!"

 Chapter 107: Not a Chapter, Author’s Note, Reflections and Gratitude

    Chapter 107: Not a Chapter, Author��s Note, Reflections and Gratitude


    Not a chapter, Author''s Note.


    Hello Guys, this is not a chapter, it''s just a thank you note, I''m sharing it for those interested and also to not lose track of the chapters, consider Chapter 107 non-existent, I''ll follow the same count as the Raws to avoid confusion.


    When I release this note, I will publish at least 2 chapters daily as I normally do, without taking the note into ount.


    ....


    ### Chapter 107: Reflections and Gratitude


    Today is a day of both joy and nervousness for the author. As a neer to writing, many of you may have noticed my inexperience. Initially, my goal was simply to earn some living expenses. My first attempt at a novel, despite pouring tens of thousands of words into it, was rejected, leaving me disheartened and doubtful of my abilities.


    After several failed attempts, I began to question whether I was cut out for this line of work. Then, by chance, I stumbled upon a captivating clip from "House of the Dragon" on a short video tform. The sight of the dragons reignited my passion, and I quickly subscribed to watch the entire series. It took me over a week to finish all ten episodes.


    While I enjoyed the show, I felt that the plot was a bit too dark andcked the passion I craved. For the next two weeks, I remained in a negative state. Then, I saw another clip from the show and realized that fan fiction based on popr series was still thriving online. This inspired me to write my own story set in the same universe.


    After much hesitation, I finally decided to draft an outline. Thus, this book was born, beginning with the troubled dreams of the mncholy prince, Rhaegar. To be honest, I never expected this book to do so well. The current sess has far exceeded my expectations.Particrly after the initial chapters, when I wrote the "Dragon Taming" chapter, which became a surprising highlight despite not meeting my usual standards. This unexpectedly propelled the book to new heights.


    However, I soon encountered difficulties. The plot set on the penins, originally nned for ten chapters, stretched to twenty, leading to some dissatisfaction among readers. Myck of experience in writing and understanding of popr tropes became evident.


    I want to express my deepest gratitude to all of you. Your support and encouragement have meant the world to me. I promise not to rest on myurels and will strive to improve, updating the book as often as possible. I will also read and study more excellent works to create even more exciting plots.


    In the days ahead, I n to increase the update frequency, aiming for three to four chapters a day. Thank you once again for your support. Let''s continue this journey together!

 Chapter 108: Returning to King’s Landing

    Chapter 108: Returning to King��s Landing


    Three days had passed.


    After a long journey, the royal ship finally docked at the bustling port of King''s Landing.


    Viserys was pale and tired as he was helped by Alicent into a carriage that was taking them to the Red Keep.


    Aegon, Hena, and Aemond were inside the carriage, attended to by servants, while Rhaenyra and Lyonel, the Hand of the King, were conspicuously absent.


    Viserys settled into the seat, visibly ufortable, as Alicent offered him a ss of water.


    After taking a sip, Viserys nced around, his gaze falling on the empty seats. "Where''s Rhaenyra? Where have they gone?"


    Alicent let out a soft sigh and handed the cup to a servant. "The siblings left ahead of us, riding a dragon ashore."


    There was a hint of bitterness in her tone, and anyone listening could tell.


    Three nights ago, Viserys told Alicent that he was changing Rhaenyra''s status as a heir to make Rhaegar the new heir.Alicent was caught off guard by the news, especially after Rhaegar''s recent threats against her.


    Despite her misgivings, Alicent had no choice but to go along with it.


    The following day, Viserys dispatched ravens to disseminate the news across the realm, canceling their nned journey to Driftmark in the process.


    Lyonel, had sent his condolences to the Sea Snake, letting the Vryons know about the change in the heir''s status.


    However, time constraints had led to dys in various matters, including Aegon''s dragon-bonding.


    Aegon''s progress in taming Sunfyre had been slow, so they had to leave early to avoid further dys.


    This fact weighed heavily on Alicent''s mind.


    After all, Rhaegar had sessfully tamed a wild dragon at the tender age of six, while Aegon struggled to tame even a young one.


    The question was on everyone''s mind: why had Rhaegar seeded where Aegon had not?


    ...


    Dragonpit


    Rhaenyra was perched atop Syrax saddle, wearing sleek ck dragon barding.


    After days of turmoil, her demeanor appeared to have regained itsposure.


    With a bright smile, she looked around at the gathered dragons and their dragonkeepers, who hade together at the sound of her call.


    "Roar..."


    Syrax wasn''t happy about the dragonkeepers with the whips and clubs, so she let out a roar before slowlynding on the ground.


    Dismounting from the dragon''s back, Rhaenyra scanned her surroundings and inquired, "Where''s Rhaegar? He returned to King''s Landing before me."


    A young maester, with a slight limp and a courteous smile, approached her. "The prince has departed. He was escorted back to the Red Keep by the waiting Kingsguard."


    Without hesitation, Rhaenyra epted the news. "Make sure my dragon is taken care of."


    With that, she left the Dragonpit.


    However, she stopped in the middle of leaving and turned back with a serious look on her face. "If Rhaegar seeks to ride his dragon alone, do your utmost to dissuade him from reckless ventures, or summon me."


    It had been three days since shest saw Rhaegar.


    Upon their return to King''s Landing, he took off on Cannibal, leaving her behind.


    The ck dragon was incredibly fast, and Rhaenyra was really annoyed.


    The young maester nodded enthusiastically. "I''ll do my best to give the prince some advice."


    "Very well. Your dedication will not go unnoticed," Rhaenyra said, her lips curling into a satisfied grin as she continued on her way.


    As she left, the young maester went up to the Dragonpit.


    ...


    The Summit of the Dragonpit


    A massive ck dragon was sprawled out on its back, eyes closed in repose.


    At the front of the tform, Rhaegar was there, watching Rhaenyra leave.


    Next to him, Erryk, looking sharp in silver armor and white robes, stood tall, peeking at the imposing dragon from time to time, his face serious.


    Tap-tap-tap...


    Footfalls echoed up the stairs, prompting Erryk to turn around, his gaze fixed on the approaching figure.


    Emerging from the staircase, a young maester tentatively advanced, stealing anxious nces at the ebony dragon upying thending.


    In hushed tones, he delivered the news, "Prince, the princess has departed."


    "I saw it, Maynard," Rhaegar replied, his tone calm and unmoved


    Maynard sensed that the prince wasn''t interested in talking anymore, so he backed off and stood by respectfully.


    Erryk scrutinized his movements closely, his mind full of suspicion.


    A few momentster, Rhaegar turned to face Maynard. His gaze fell on Maynard''s awkward gait. "It appears you''ve had a hard time."


    "This is the consequence of my actions," Maynard retorted wryly, his demeanor betraying no hint of sadness.


    During the Dreamfyre incident, he had been incarcerated and subsequently maimed during the trial, leaving him with a permanent disability after failing to recieve treatment in time.


    Observing Maynard''s meek countenance, Rhaegar arched a brow. "I assumed you would have returned to the Citadel."


    "Not exactly. I''m no longer wee there. I''ve grown ustomed to serving in the Dragonpit," Maynard admitted.


    Rhaegar nodded thoughtfully, meeting his eager gaze.


    It was a hunger for power.


    After a brief pause, Rhaegar made his way toward the staircase, saying goodbye to Maynard as he left, "Make sure you do your job well. The Dragonpit is really important for the royal family, so I''ll be focusing on that from now on."


    After the change of power, the Dragonpit would be under his control, a key asset he wanted to use.


    To him, it was just a normal request, but to Maynard, it meant a lot more.


    Eagerly lifting his head, Maynard pledged, "Yes, Prince. I will not disappoint you."


    "Too close, Maester," Erryk interjected, halting Maynard''s advance toward the prince.


    Rhaegar''s voice came down the stairs, "The Dragonpit needs someone reliable to look after it now that I''m the heir."


    Maynard, brimming with enthusiasm, disregarded Erryk''s restraining gesture, eximing, "Prince, I shall be your most loyal aide."


    Maynard was a Maester with a lot of information at his fingertips.


    News of the heir change had already reached King''s Landing, and Maynard had been privy to it.


    His waiting in the Dragonpit had paid off, as evidenced by Rhaegar''s acknowledgment.


    He had a bright future ahead of him.


    ...


    As the sun set, Viserys, tired from his journey, looked for a way to rx with a soothing broth before heading to bed early.


    Meanwhile, Alicent was looking after her husband while he was asleep, managing the Red Keep until thete hours.


    Once she''d finished her chores, Alicent was pretty tired as she made her way back to her own quarters.


    Despite her desire to copse onto her soft bed and go to sleep, her royal status and upbringing demanded a modicum of decorum.


    With a graceful demeanor, she approached the table and took off her clothes, revealing the smooth expanse of her skin beneath.


    As her dress pooled at her feet, Alicent noticed an envelope on the tabletop with the crimson seal of House Hightower��a tower emblem.


    She quickly grabbed the letter, recognizing it as a message from her family.


    Her heart was racing with excitement, as it had been far too long since she''d heard from her parents and siblings.


    She broke the seal with shaking hands and took the letter out, then sat down on the cool stone bench to read it.


    However, her initial excitement slowly faded as she read the words her father, Otto Hightower, had written.


    The letter didn''t offer much words offort or reassurance. It was just a brief acknowledgment of the uncertain political climate.


    "The situation is pretty tricky, so choose your words carefully," it said.


    "Be careful and take your time," it advised, offering little help.

 Chapter 109: The Heir Replacement Ceremony

    Chapter 109: The Heir Recement Ceremony


    Two months passed in the blink of an eye.


    At the harbor of King''s Landing, a sailboat from a farawaynd docked, and a guest disembarked.


    The arrival of outsiders brought a buzz of activity to the harbor, with the number of traders increasing day by day.


    At the city gates of King''s Landing, soldiers escorted a procession of ornate carriages into the city. These carriages bore various noble emblems��roaring lions, direwolves, and sky-blue falcons.


    After two months of anticipation, nobles from all over the continent had gathered in King''s Landing to participate in the king''s announcement regarding the heir change.


    Inside the Red Keep, servants were bustling about, decorating the castle and preparing banquet ingredients. As queen, Alicent was in charge of all affairs. During this period, she was the busiest person in all of King''s Landing.


    Having just finished coordinating the banquet performances, Alicent wiped the sweat from her forehead. She called over a maid and urgently said, "Where''s Rhaenyra? Tell her toe and help me. I can''t finish everything on my own."


    Her husband, the king, was a hands-off ruler who made decisions but left the execution to others. She needed someone to assist her.


    The maid, head bowed, replied, "The Princess has gone to the Dragonpit to look for the Prince.""Seven hells, is there no one in the Red Keep to help me?" Alicent eximed in frustration, her chest heaving with anger.


    ...


    Meanwhile, at the Dragon''s Lair, Rhaenyra made her way up the stairs to the topnding, her steps slow and deliberate.


    She was well aware of the bustling activity at the Red Keep, but she felt no obligation to partake in it.


    After all, she was the princess who had been reced. How could anyone expect her to organize a banquet for her own recement? The thought was simply too cruel.


    Reaching the empty tform, Rhaenyra spotted a familiar figure. "Rhaegar, you''re really here," she called out, surprised.


    Rhaegar turned at her voice, a hint of helplessness in his expression. "I only have two ces I can go, and since I''m not needed at the Red Keep, of course I''m here."


    Rhaenyra quickly stepped forward and grabbed her brother''s ear in frustration. "You spend more than half your time in the Dragonpit, Rhaegar. Do you consider this ce your home now?"


    Rhaegar winced in pain but managed to reply, "Soon the whole continent will be mine. It doesn''t matter where I make my home."


    "Nonsense. Father still has a few decades left to live. It''s not your turn yet," Rhaenyra scolded, pushing him slightly.


    Rhaegar didn��t resist, closing his eyes and enduring her anger in silence. Seeing him so passive only fueled Rhaenyra''s frustration.


    She released his ear and pressed down on his shoulder, speaking seriously, "Rhaegar, the day after tomorrow is the heir recement ceremony. You need to be prepared and focused."


    "I know, I don''t need you to remind me," Rhaegar responded with an indifferent smile.


    Rhaenyra squatted down, looked directly into his eyes, and said sadly, "I never med you. Don��t be like this, okay?"


    Since their return to King''s Landing, the siblings had rarely seen each other. Rhaenyra knew it was because Rhaegar was intentionally avoiding her. She even considered moving to the Dragonpit just to be close to him.


    "I��m fine, Rhaenyra," Rhaegar sighed. "I��ve been observing the dragons'' habitstely and nning to restructure the Dragonpit."


    He wasn��t lying. The Dragonpit was crucial, and as a family that relied on dragons to conquer the continent, hepared the importance of renovating to the period in which the Red Keep was built.


    Rhaenyra put his hand on Rhaegar''s face and asked, "So, have you noticed anything?"


    "Not yet. The Dragonpit here is too simple, far from what I had in mind," Rhaegar admitted, shaking his head.


    The Dragonlords of Valyria lived in the Fourteen mes, with natural volcanic and underground caves forming perfect dragonirs. In contrast, King''s Landing''s Dragon''s Lair was just a massive dome filled with ground-level holes,cking the spacious, high-temperature environment ideal for dragons.


    Rhaenyra sighed as she looked at her brother, who seemed so serious. The thing she least expected had happened: Rhaegar was avoiding her, no longer as affectionate as he used to be.


    She took him by the shoulders, embraced him, and kissed his neck. "Rhaegar, I��m the one who��s been reced. You shouldn��t avoid me. It��s really cruel to me."


    Rhaegar, lost in thought, turned his head to the stone wall, unsure how to respond. He didn''t mean to avoid her; he just didn''t know how to face her. Now, he was at a loss for words.


    After a while, he heard a soft sob. Rhaegar turned back and saw tears on Rhaenyra''s cheeks. She pulled a gold coin from her pocket and offered it to him. "Do you want me to make a wish?" she choked out.


    Rhaegar stared at the coin in a daze. After a long moment, he embraced her and whispered, "No, I understand."


    Rhaenyra held him tightly and admonished, "You��re the one our mother left me to rely on. No matter what, you shouldn��t run away from me. You will be the heir, and your every word and action represents the royal family."


    Rhaegar buried his face in her hair and said, "I understand. I am the me that all should look up to."


    He epted his status as heir and was determined to live up to it.


    ...


    Two dayster, in the morning.


    The gates of the Red Keep were opened wide, weing the nobles arriving for the ceremony. Leading the procession were the prominent families, each bearing their respective crests on their attire.


    Following them were nobles from various regions, apanying their lords.


    The nobles were led by the Kingsguard to the expansive back garden, rather than into the castle hall.


    This area boasted arge schoolyard, an arbor, a pond, and a fish beam, providing a picturesque setting for the gathering.


    King Viserys and Queen Alicent awaited the attendees in a pavilion, apanied by their children: Aegon, Hena, and Aemond, who was in the arms of a maid.


    "Your Grace and Queen..."


    At the sight of the royal couple, the nobles bowed deeply, creating a scene of grand and solemn respect. Many of these nobles hailed from the North, the West, and the Vale��regions far from King''s Landing, with treacherous roads making their journey arduous.


    Viserys surveyed the gathered bannermen, pride swelling within him. He nced at his wife and then addressed the assembly in a loud voice:


    "All of you, I am honored to see you here after your long and bumpy journey. I offer my heartfelt thanks and blessings!"


    "Today is a great event for the Targaryen dynasty, and you''re all here to witness it."

 Chapter 110: The Dragons

    Chapter 110: The Dragons


    King Viserys spoke many kind words to appease the bannermen who had traveled from afar. The nobles responded graciously, apuding and cheering as the king finished his speech.


    After a moment of calm, Hand of the King Lyonel stepped forward to preside over the meeting. Clearing his throat, he announced the main agenda.


    "My lords, today is thest day of the year, and so we will hold the heir recement ceremony as scheduled!"


    The nobles reacted differently. Lord Jason Lannister wore a joyful expression, quietly discussing with those around him whether the princess would ept his proposal now that she had lost her heirship.


    A Targaryen princess was important not just for the king''s favor, but also for adding dragon blood to future generations of his family.


    The Maiden of the Vale, Jeyne Arryn, seemed pretty downcast. She was Rhaenyra and Rhaegar''s cousin.


    She was 17 years old and a tall beauty with brown curly hair. As a woman, she''d always been Rhaenyra''s most loyal supporter, both facing challenges from men and needing to stick together.


    "It''s a shame that Rhaenyra lost her heirship," Jeyne whispered to the middle-aged man standing beside her.


    The man was Yorbert Royce from Runestone, the Lord Protector of the Vale and assistant to the Maiden of the Vale. With a heavy countenance, Yorbert lowered his voice, "The king has a son; this recement is not surprising.""......" Jenny sighed, understanding reality.


    In addition to the main nobles houses, the Lords of each realm were also present.


    Lord Stark of the North and Lord Baratheon of the Stornds appeared indifferent, as if the choice of the King''s heir did not concern them.


    The Starks rarely ventured south, preferring to stay active in the North.


    Lord Baratheon, once a supporter of the uncrowned queen, Princess Rhaenys, was also uninterested. They were cousins, but his loyaltiesy elsewhere.


    Lord Tully of the Rivends and Lord Tyrell of the Reach, however, were all smiles, paying close attention to the speeches. They were supporters of the Targaryen House and favored a male heir, which aligned with their interests.


    Lyonel wrapped up his speech pretty quickly, which let the two main characterse on stage. Viserys was smiling and holding Alicent''s shoulders as they stood in front of the gathered nobles.


    Lyonel stood by, maintaining a solemn demeanor.


    "Where are the princess and the prince?"


    "Has no one summoned their presence? Have they been forgotten?"


    The murmurs grew as the princess and prince did not show up immediately. Some nobles began to whisper and specte.


    "Don''t be in a hurry, my lords. The princess and the prince are on their way," Lyonel announced, attempting to quell the confusion.


    The nobles exchanged doubtful nces, puzzled by Lyonel''s words. What did he mean by "on their way"? Was the Princess refusing to relinquish her heirship and boycotting the heir chaging ceremony?


    "Maybe there''s something worth seeing," someone in the crowd suggested.


    Thisment sparked a wave of murmurs, as other nobles began to specte quietly. Eyes asionally darted to the king and queen in the pavilion, anticipating a potential royal scandal.


    Out of nowhere, a gust of wind swept through the garden, causing the trees to rustle and the grass to sway. People looked up as the wind picked up.


    "Roar..."


    A powerful roar echoed across the sky, and in full view of the gathered crowd, a golden figure broke through the clouds, descending towards the majestic Red Keep.


    "It''s a dragon!"


    The sharp-eyed among them quickly identified the enormous creature.


    "This is the princess''s dragon, Syrax..."


    The nobles who had resided in the king''s domain for years were well-acquainted with the golden dragon. Rhaenyra often traveled with her dragon, Syrax.


    However, many nobles from the bordends were less familiar with dragons. As Syrax, towering and majestic, swooped down, the crowd was visibly shaken.


    This was a real dragon. One breath of dragonfire could wipe everyone out.


    "Roar..."


    Syrax sensed the crowd''s attention and let out a loud roar, spitting mes that lit up the sky, showing off it''s impressive size and power.


    Rhaenyra, d in ck and red, rode in the saddle, her hands gripping the reins as she looked down at the assembly below.


    "Land, Syrax."


    After circling the Red Keep twice, Rhaenyra gave themand in High Valyrian, her expression cold andmanding.


    "Roar..."


    Syrax replied by folding it''s wings andnding on a tower of the Red Keep, crushing the bricks and tiles.


    It scanned the crowd below, tilting it''s head with curiosity.


    The nobles looked up at the beast on the tower, their faces tense. It was a bit unsettling to be scrutinized by a dragon.


    After a moment, Syrax lost interest and looked away. At Rhaenyra''smand, it spread it''s wings and leapt from the tower, gliding around beforending gracefully in an open space nearby.


    Boom��


    As the dragon touched down, a gust of wind kicked up dust, forcing the nobles to step back.


    Viserys watched the nobles, who seemed a bit confused, and allowed a small smile to form at the corners of his mouth. He looked at Rhaenyra on the dragon''s back and they shared a look.


    Rhaenyra remained silent, sitting regally in the saddle, her chin lifted as if dismissing the nobles below.


    "Oh, is this a warning?" Jason Lannister muttered something under his breath. He was blown back by the dust and had to lean on his attendants to stay upright.


    He acknowledged that a dragon was a formidable and intimidating force, but what did it matter in the grand scheme of things? In his mind, he knew a woman, even one inmand of a dragon, would ultimately be subjugated by a man.


    Jason''s eyes burned with greed and desire as he stared at Rhaenyra. Young and unmarried, he saw the princess''s loss of heirship as an opportunity.


    With his status as the Warden of the West, he believed he could capture the heart of the now vulnerable princess.


    "My lords, the princess is already here, and the prince will arrive shortly!" Lyonel announced, adjusting his wrinkled cor.


    Since Rhaenyra had arrived on dragonback, it was clear there would be more than one dragon present.


    "Roar..."


    The crowd''s murmurs were interrupted by another thunderous roar that seemed to shake the very air, rattling their eardrums.


    Hoo...


    A gust of wind followed, and the clear sunlight was suddenly obscured by a massive dark cloud, casting half of the Red Keep into shadow.


    "Dragon! Another dragon!"


    "Where did this ck dragone from? Does King''s Landing have such arge ck dragon?"


    People looked up and saw a huge dragon, like a mountain of coal,ing into view. Its ck scales, green eyes, and gray horns showed it was an adult dragon.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal, following Syrax''s path, burst through the clouds, green dragonfire sshing across the sky like ink. It was the undeniable centerpiece of King''s Landing, circling above the city in its immense size and imposing presence.


    The whole city was looking at the ck dragon with blue eyes.


    "Is it the ck Dread, Balerion?" people asked.


    Those who didn''t know about dragons were scared. They thought Cannibal was Balerion, the dragon who had burned everything in the Seven Kingdoms.


    "Don''t be afraid, lords," Viserys reassured the panic-stricken nobles with a smile.


    "This dragon is Cannibal, tamed by my eldest son, Rhaegar. It is thergest wild dragon of Dragonstone Ind."


    The king''s words aimed to calm the crowd, but the sight of two formidable dragons had already left asting impression on everyone present.

 Chapter 111: Heir’s Resignation

    Chapter 111: Heir��s Resignation


    Today''s meeting was a clear demonstration of King Viserys'' authority. Since the War for the Stepstones, the royal family''s prestige had waned.


    With the change of the heir, it was time for the Targaryen to reassert their dominance before the nobility.


    Hearing the King''s speech, many nobles quickly understood his intention. Their eyes were fixed on the dark dragon hovering above.


    The dragon had a leather strap around its neck, attached to a saddle. A small figure sat on the dragon''s back,manding the beast.


    "Cannibal, Dracarys!" Rhaegar spoke in High Valyrian, issuing themand. He tightened his grip on the reins and scanned the crowd below, who were clearly restless.


    "Roar..." Cannibal, sensing his master''smand, unleashed a torrent of green dragonfire that cut across the sky like a zing river. To the onlookers, the mes seemed endless.


    In a dramatic disy, the pitch-ck dragon surged into the sea of mes, the small figure on its back unscathed. Rhaegar stayed put, safe from the dragonfire thanks to his special dragon-riding suit.


    "Land, Cannibal," Rhaegar said softly once the mes died down, showing off the dragon''s impressive power. Cannibal''s green eyes twinkled with amusement as it looked down at the crowd below.


    The dragon changed direction, diving headfirst toward the ground. Cannibal was much bigger and stronger than Syrax, which was still in its juvenile stage. It was like a storm, capable of overturning chariots.As Cannibal swooped down over the Red Keep, the wind from its descent began to whip through the back garden.


    The gathered nobles couldn''t help but nce nervously at the King, realizing the gravity of the situation.


    "Roar..." Just as the ck dragon was about to crash into the castle, it suddenly stopped in its tracks, roaring at the sky. It came down in the garden with a thud.


    Luckily, the back garden was spacious enough to fit Cannibal''s immense body.


    Smoke rose from the ground as Cannibalnded behind the gazebo, its sheer size dwarfing Syrax.


    The pavilion looked pretty small, like a mouse or a catpared to the massive dragon, which stood towering over it. Cannibal''s head reached as high as the tower, and it gave the crowd below a disdainful nce.


    The dragon''s presence was pretty intimidating. Nobles who dared to look directly at it couldn''t help but back away in fear, especially when they saw the small figure on its back��a boy less than ten years old.


    The sight of a childmanding such a fearsome beast was unsettling. It made you feel like you had a sword hanging over your head, ready to strike at any moment.


    Rhaegar, perched on Cannibal''s back, remained silent, his gaze distant.


    "Roar..." Cannibal raised its head and let out a loud roar, spewing green dragon mes into the sky. The air heated up fast, turning the winter chill into a stifling summer heat, making everyone sweat.


    "Alright, let me down, Cannibal," Rhaegar said in a calm voice, breaking the tension and halting the dragon''s disy.


    "Roar..." Cannibal stopped its mes, folded its wings, andid down. The heat had also affected King Viserys, who wiped sweat from his forehead while beaming with pride.


    "Rhaegar, let the lords see your face," Viserysmanded loudly.


    "Yes, Father," Rhaegar replied, getting up from his horse. He hadn''t fastened the chains, and Cannibal, attuned to his master''s will, ensured Rhaegar''s safety without them. The saddle was more forfort than necessity.


    Rhaegar descended gracefully using a softdder attached to the straps around Cannibal''s neck. With a soft thud, hended and walked from the back of the pavilion into full view of the assembly.


    Dressed in a sleek dragon-scale-patterned outfit, Rhaegar''s clean, white face, silver hair, and purple eyes of the Targaryen lineage contrasted sharply with the menacing ck dragon outside.


    Leaving Alicent''s embrace, Viserys took Rhaegar''s small hand and stood tall before the nobles, his pride evident.


    "My lords, behold your future monarch, the new king of the realm," he proimed loudly.


    The nobles understood the situation clearly under the imposing authority of the two dragons. They erupted into thunderous apuse, acknowledging their future king.


    The sound of their apuse echoed, confirming their eptance of Rhaegar''s status ascension.


    After a round of apuse and cheers, Viserys raised his hand to calm the nobles, whose faces showed a mix of emotions.


    He patted Rhaegar''s shoulder and encouraged him, "Go, Rhaegar, help Rhaenyra dismount."


    Rhaegar nodded and nced at Rhaenyra, who was still sitting proudly on Syrax''s back. She needed to maintain her dignity in this important moment.


    Rhaegar walked over to Syrax, looking up at his sister''s calm face. As he reached Syrax''s neck, he petted the curious dragon. He slowly dropped to one knee and said, "Rhaenyra, I''m here to help you."


    Rhaenyra turned her head and looked down at Rhaegar with a neutral expression. After a brief pause, she undid the chain around her waist, rose from the saddle, and climbed down thedder.


    When she reached the ground, Rhaenyra extended her hand. Rhaegar took it, kissed the back of her hand lightly, and whispered, "Thank you, sister."


    "Rise, brother," Rhaenyra responded, pulling him up gracefully. Hand in hand, they walked towards the gazebo, matching each other''s pace despite their height difference.


    When they got to the pavilion, Rhaenyra saluted Viserys and Alicent, then stepped forward to address the crowd before Lyonel could.


    She scanned the assembly and spoke with passion, "My lords, I''m honored to have you here today for the heir changing ceremony."


    "Here and now, in front of you all, I, Rhaenyra Targaryen, eldest daughter of King Viserys I, Princess of Dragonstone, and former heir to the Iron Throne, solemnly dere that I relinquish my im to the throne in favor of my brother Rhaegar. I pledge my lifelong allegiance to him, to support him, and to work together to usher in a new era for the Targaryen dynasty."


    With that, Rhaenyra confidently raised Rhaegar''s small hand high, sealing her deration.

 Chapter 112: The Hightower House

    Chapter 112: The Hightower House


    As Rhaenyra��s deration echoed through the hall, apuse started up, with Jeyne Arryn and the Vale nobles leading the way, followed by the Rivends and Reach Houses of the Tullys and Tyrells.


    These were the staunchest supporters of the Targaryen crown.


    The princess''s willingness to transfer the title of heir to her brother sent a strong message of unity. The Targaryen House showed no signs of internal strife or scandal. Today marked an honorable and orderly transition.


    "Well done, Rhaenyra!" Jeyne Arryn''s clear voice called out, her eyes filled with pity for her cousin and ally. Both women were powerful in their own right and supported each other politically. Jeyne had no choice but to respect Rhaenyra��s decision.


    As the apuse died down, Lyonel Strong looked at Rhaenyra with a sad expression. ��Oh well, my role here has been taken over,�� he thought.


    Yet, he stepped forward with solemnity and addressed the nobles. ��My lords, the Princess and the Prince have arrived. Please proceed to the Throne Hall for the ceremony.��


    The recement of the heir was a significant event, requiring a dignified and solemn ceremony. It wasn��t enough for the heirs to simply agree; the kingdom needed to witness the formalities.


    ��Come along, my children,�� Viserys said, approaching Rhaenyra and Rhaegar, taking their hands. Rhaenyra sensed the affection in her father��s eyes.


    ��You��ve done well, my girl. What you��ve lost today will bepensated,�� Viserys assured her, his voice firm as he squeezed her hand. Rhaenyra��s sacrifice proved her loyalty andmitment to the unity of the Targaryen House, keeping external threats at bay. Viserys was proud of her, his guilt for her deepening.Rhaenyra smiled gently, slipping her hand out of her father��s and instead holding Rhaegar��s. ��Father, it would be better if you apanied the Queen,�� she said softly.


    Her father��s bted affection and hesitation hurt her, but she kept it to herself. The offer meant a life of peace and security, but her father��s newfound love only made her resent him more.


    For now, all she wanted was to hold Rhaegar��s hand tightly and fulfill her vow.


    ...


    The heir changing ceremonymenced in the solemn Throne Room, where members of the royal family and nobles from across the realms had gathered.


    The High Septon of the Faith of the Seven stood before them, making the official promation under the divine gaze of the Seven.


    The title of heir was formally transferred from Rhaenyra to Rhaegar.


    Seizing the moment, Rhaenyra announced that she would no longer consider marrying outside her family and pledged to groom Rhaegar until he came of age.


    This announcement was a great disappointment to many nobles who had long coveted her hand in marriage.


    Viserys hadn''t expected Rhaenyra to make that announcement, but he didn''t object. Instead, he smiled and nodded in agreement, confirming that he wouldn''t get involved in her marriage ns.


    For Viserys, it was important to keep the pure dragon bloodline going, and Rhaenyra��s decision was perfect for him.


    After this unexpected turn of events, Viserys ced the crown on Rhaegar''s head and got the oath of allegiance from the lords.


    Dressed in ck robes adorned with the emblems of the realm, Rhaegar surveyed the room with aposed demeanor, his raised arms signifying his eptance of the new title.


    From this moment on, he was the heir, just as Rhaenyra had once been.


    Viserys was thrilled beyond words as he witnessed the moment. This was the prince he had always dreamed of.


    The coronation wasplete, and as the sun began to set, the nobles were invited to the banquet hall, where a sumptuous feast awaited them.


    ...


    Candlelight and bonfires cast a warm glow on the tablesden with food and wine. Viserys was at the head of the hall, with Rhaegar and Rhaenyra to his left and Lyonel, the Hand of the King, to his right.


    After the ceremony, Alicent excused herself to tend to Aemond, who was crying. Meanwhile, the nobles enjoyed the feast, eating, drinking, and chatting away.


    Viserys took in the scene with a sense of satisfaction, asionally chatting with Lyonel in a friendly manner. It was a day of triumph for him, and he wanted to share it with everyone.


    The only regret was the absence of the Vryon House. Sea Snake Corlys had promised to attend, but they had not yet arrived.


    "Rhaegar, try this," Rhaenyra said, offering her brother a piece of roasted meat.


    Rhaegar, dressed in ceremonial attire, lounged back in his chair with a bored expression, epting the food from his sister. He was still adjusting to his new status as heir and was enjoying the attention from the former one.


    After eating several pieces of meat, Rhaegar felt overwhelmed and gulped down some grape juice. Rhaenyra teased, "The heir should pay attention to his image, Rhaegar."


    "I haven''t even felt the privileges of being Crown Prince, and already I''m being scolded?" Rhaegar joked. "Look at all these people��how many of them do you think will actually listen to me?"


    Rhaenyra replied with a self-deprecating smile, "How many do you think listened to me when I was the heir?"


    Rhaegar smirked but said nothing. He understood that being the heir was merely a title and that real power was still far away.


    Just then, there was an announcement at the door. It was Lord Hobert Hightower from Oldtown. Many nobles had been disheveled by the two dragons'' arrival and had applied to return to their residences to change their attire.


    The Hightower delegation entered, led by the Lords and Ladies, but one figure stood out even more: Ser Otto Hightower, Queen Alicent''s father.


    Viserys maintained aposed expression as his old acquaintance approached, waiting patiently for the customary greetings. Lord Hobert offered his blessings, followed by Ser Otto Hightower''s formal greeting.


    Viserys responded calmly, showing no sign of difort or regret over their past conflicts.


    Rhaegar''s attention was drawn to the neers.


    He tugged at Rhaenyra''s skirt, pointed to Lord Hobert descending the steps, and whispered, "Look, it''s that big-nosed fool, I remember him."


    "Rhaegar!" Rhaenyra quickly covered his mouth, her eyes giving him a stern look to let him know to watch what he say


    Rhaegar pulled her hand away and whispered into her ear, "Isn''t that man a supporter of Aegon?"


    He recalled the scene at the Kingswood hunt when Ser Hobert had hailed Prince Aegon. At the time, he hadn''t recognized him.


    It turned out to be Lord Hightower of Aegon''s mother''s house.


    Rhaenyra lowered her voice, "You''re the heir, and your session is secure. Aegon can''t challenge you."


    Rhaegar''s status as the eldest son was far stronger than her own had been as the eldest daughter. Aegon, who once had some hope, couldn''t surpass Rhaegar in age or legitimacy.


    Rhaegar nced at Otto Hightower, a former Hand of the King for two terms, as he chatted with Rhaenyra.


    Viserys raised his ss and greeted, "It''s been a long time, Otto."


    "I''m d you''re well, and that you''ve chosen an excellent heir, Your Grace," Otto replied respectfully, maintaining his elegant demeanor.


    Their conversation was brief before Otto followed his elder brother into the banquet.


    As the Hightower family settled in, another noble rose to make a toast.


    Two women sat at the table of the Vale family��Lady Jeyne and a mature woman dressed as an noblewoman.


    "Your Grace..." The Lady began to stand, but another figure quickly stepped forward with a ss of wine.


    "Congrattions, Your Grace," he said, "You have a brave and fearless prince as your heir, worthy of the dragon blood."

 Chapter 113: Lady Rhea

    Chapter 113: Lady Rhea


    A blonde, curly-haired nobleman named Jason strode forward and saluted the king.


    Rhaegar squinted at him and nodded. "Thank you, Lord Jason."


    Jason smiled and lifted his chin. "Your Grace, this exchange of heirs is truly grand, befitting a prince."


    Viserysughed. "Of course, Rhaegar is my eldest son, the future king. I want this feast to go down in history."


    Jason nced at the empty seat to the King''s right. "Where is the Queen? I was hoping to greet her in person."


    "The Queen is still preparing for the festivities," Viserys replied casually.


    Jason took the opportunity toment. "That''s why men go to war; women would never make it to the battlefield in time."


    Turning to Rhaenyra, he asked, "With the burden of being the heir removed, I wonder what the Princess has nned for the future?" He was still thinking of marrying a Targaryen princess.


    Viserys opened his mouth to reply, but Rhaegar interrupted. "Lord Jason, what war have you started? Must I ride the dragons to Lannisport?"Rhaenyra gave him a sideways nce and silently took his hand.


    Rhaegar smiled and looked at Jason, who looked a bit stunned.


    Jason hesitated. "Uh... I haven''t started any war. There''s no need to trouble the prince."


    "Really? That''s a shame," Rhaegar replied, feigning disappointment. "Do you have any future ns for war? I heard the Ironborn often disturb the coastline."


    "The Ironborn are just foolish pirates. The soldiers in the harbor can handle them," Jason replied, sounding perplexed. "With your honor as a prince, you shouldn''t be bothered by the Ironborn."


    "I see. Lord Jason is truly a lord well-versed in military affairs. I admire you," Rhaegar said, raising his cup in a toast.


    Jason looked at the fruity grape juice in the prince''s ss and frowned, but he raised his ss to share the drink.


    After finishing the wine, Jason, aware that his presence is unwee to the prince, left, his mood noticeably dampened.


    Watching his retreating back, Rhaenyra whispered into Rhaegar''s ear. "An egomaniac, I can deal with that."


    "I just can''t stand his stupid face," Rhaegar shrugged. "He dared to covet my sister. I''m afraid seawater from Lannisport got into his head."


    As soon as Jason left, theLady of the Vale, who had been holding her tongue and wanted to speak earlier, quickly approached.


    "Your Grace, Rhea Royce of Runestone hase to visit with the prince. I offer my blessings to you and your children," the Lady said, raising her ss.


    "Thank you, Lady Rhea," Viserys responded. Rhaegar and Rhaenyra said the same thing, with equal respect.


    The countess before them was no ordinary person. She was Daemon Targaryen''s wife, Viserys'' brother, and thus Rhaegar''s aunt by marriage. As is proper, they should address her as sister-inw and aunt.


    Rhaegar took a moment to look at Lady Rhea. Her long brown hair framed a slim figure.


    Though she wasn''t conventionally beautiful, her features had a certain rugged grace, exuding a dry heroic spirit. She was a far cry from the unattractive figure Daemon had described.


    Lady Rhea took a sip of wine and said solemnly, "Your Grace, Daemon hasmitted a grave crime. While I bear no guilt, I feel a shared responsibility."


    "Don''t worry, Lady Rhea," Viserys replied politely. "Daemon''s sins are his own. They won��t touch you.��


    Lady Rhea shook her head. "Your Grace, I know what I am about to say may sound treasonous, but I beg your understanding."


    "What is it you wish to say?" Viserys asked, sensing the seriousness of the situation.


    Lady Rhea spoke with heavy heart. "I have been married to Daemon for ten years, but our marriage exists in name only. He finds mecking in beauty and refuses to be with me. The scandal has spread across the continent."


    Rhaegar sat up straighter and listened intently. This was Daemon''s scandal, and he needed to hear the details.


    Lady Rhea continued, "I am the Lady of Runestone, and this stigma has haunted me for years. Now that Daemon hasmitted treason, I implore you to end our marriage and honor your loyal subject."


    She finished up quickly, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She stared at the king with a determined look in her eyes.


    "You wish to dissolve the marriage?" Viserys asked, his face grim.


    "No! Daemon never considered me his wife," Lady Rhea said.


    Viserys clenched his ss, his eyes fixed on Lady Rhea, his breathing bing morebored. Daemon was indeed a scoundrel, and Viserys hated him for it. But he was also his brother.


    If Viserys granted Lady Rhea''s request, it would bring shame not only to Daemon but also to the royal family, making them the subject of ridicule.


    For the honor of the crown and out of lingering familial loyalty, Viserys hesitated. He didn''t want to agree to Lady Rhea''s plea for a divorce.


    The atmosphere grew tense. Rhaenyra looked at Lady Rhea, filled with both indignation and sympathy. She was noble Lady, who''d been married for years and was the subject of endless jokes.


    Leaning close to Rhaegar, she whispered through gritted teeth, "Daemon is scum. Don''t ever be like him."


    "You''re wrong to evenpare him to me," Rhaegar replied, clearly annoyed.


    Viserys remained silent for a long time before finally speaking in a deep voice, "Lady Rhea, Daemon has not yet been apprehended. Can we wait until he is, so that you and he can personally resolve this matter?"


    As an older brother, he was reluctant to make the decision about Daemon''s fate while he was away.


    Lady Rhea hesitated, wanting desperately to implore the king to end the marriage immediately. She couldn''t bear being Daemon''s wife for another moment and wanted to be free as soon as possible.


    "Lady Rhea, my father has already approved your request. All you have to do is wait until Daemon is captured," Rhaegar interjected, seeing his father''s difficulty in making a decision.


    Lady Rhea looked at the young prince, her eyes filled with suspicion.


    Rhaegar smiled and said, "Runestone has always been a loyal supporter of the royal family. The royal family will not humiliate its followers. Daemon hasmitted grave errors, and this marriage should end."


    Lady Rhea nodded and asked the king, "Your Grace, is what the prince says true?"


    Viserys, looking sorrowful, replied, "Yes, Rhaegar speaks for me. When Daemon is brought to justice, you may settle the matter as you see fit."


    "Thank you, Your Grace." Rhea was thrilled and turned to Rhaegar. "Thank you for your selflessness, Prince."


    "Selflessness?" Rhaegar frowned. What did she mean by that? Was she implying he was betraying his own family?


    Seeing his reaction, Lady Rhea quickly tried to rify her words. "I apologize, that''s not what I meant..."


    Rhaegar looked at her, still confused.


    "I''ll take my leave now, Your Grace," Lady Rhea said hastily, realizing she was only making things worse. She made her way down the steps, her face flushed with embarrassment.


    Rhaenyra turned to look at Rhaegar, who met her gaze.


    "I understand why Daemon doesn''t like her," Rhaegar muttered with frustration.


    "Uh huh," Rhaenyra smiled, averting her gaze.


    A woman with a such sharp tongue was indeed not easy to like.

 Chapter 114: The Sea Snake and Daemon

    Chapter 114: The Sea Snake and Daemon


    The banquet continued.


    Rhaegar took his seat and greeted one noble after another, his smile growing more strained by the minute. Just as his face was starting to hurt from all the smiling, the weing drums sounded.


    "Lord Corlys of House Vryon, Lord of the Tides, Master of Driftmark, his wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, and their children and heirs..."


    The herald''s voice echoed through the hall, and the doors swung open.


    A crowd entered the hall, drawing the attention of everyone present. The noisy banquet hall fell silent as many gazes turned towards the neers.


    "The Sea Snake..." Rhaegar murmured softly, equally curious about the man his father had spoken so much about.


    Seated facing the door, he had a clear view of the group. Leading them was a middle-aged man with silver hair and dark skin, his eyes deep and his demeanor calm.


    Beside him was a striking woman with ck hair streaked with silver, her face proud and regal. The two walked hand in hand.


    Following behind were a pair of silver-haired young men and women, both dark-skinned and strikingly beautiful."Does Valyria have any ck-skinned descendants?" Rhaegar thought to himself, intrigued.


    The group reached the center of the banquet hall, and all eyes were on them.


    Corlys stepped forward and bowed slightly to Viserys, saying, "Your Grace, we''re sorry we couldn''t make it to the assembly on time. We had to travel a long way."


    "Hehe, I didn��t see you during the day. I thought the Vryon House wouldn��te," Viserys responded with a smile, nodding at Rhaenys. "Cousin."


    "Cousin," Rhaenys replied with a faint smile.


    Viserys then turned to Rhaegar and introduced him, "Come, Lord Corlys, meet the kingdom''s new heir and swear your allegiance."


    He was eager to see the Sea Snake''s reaction.


    Corlys'' gaze fell on the young prince. He frowned slightly, then said, "Your Grace, you have made the right choice."


    He spoke earnestly. A male heir indeed brought more security than a princess.


    Corlys knelt on one knee and swore his allegiance inly, showing no reluctance.


    Rhaegar rose from his seat and approached Corlys, extending a hand and smiling, "Rise, Lord Corlys, I ept your allegiance."


    Corlys took his hand, rising to his full height, and whispered, "Prince, I hope you will be a wise ruler."


    "I will, my lord," Rhaegar replied confidently.


    Turning to Rhaenys, he said, "Aunt, this is the first time we meet, and I wee you and my cousins. Please, take your seats."


    "It may be our first meeting, but I have long been familiar with you," Rhaenys replied, touching her nephew''s head, disregarding the formalities of a ruler and subject.


    Laenor and Laena stepped forward, greeting warmly, "Rhaegar, congrattions on bing the heir."


    As Rhaegar exchanged pleasantries with the Vryon children, Rhaenys approached the main table.


    She raised a ss of wine, first toasting Viserys. "Cousin," she said with a faint smile, to which Viserys responded in kind.


    Then, she turned to Rhaenyra, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "I told you that you would be reced. You are indeed useless."


    Her words were filled with bitterness. She had once been a candidate for the throne but had been passed over for Viserys. Seeing Rhaenyra reced by Rhaegar felt like history repeating itself, but with a male heir instead.


    Rhaenyra''s expression cooled at thement. She replied ndly, "Aunt, Rhaegar is my brother, and I willingly gave up my seat for him."


    "Is this how you lie to yourself?" Rhaenys asked, her eyes filled with pity.


    Rhaenyra clenched her fists and replied calmly, "Isn''t that how you''ve managed all these years, knowing the heart of the matter isn''t with us?"


    Rhaenys sighed, acknowledging the truth in Rhaenyra''s words. "You''re right. The system itself is wed," she admitted. Then, changing the subject, she asked, "You are not young. Do you need to find a husband to depend on?"


    "No need. Rhaegar will not treat me harshly," Rhaenyra replied firmly.


    Rhaenys seemed a bit down, but she agreed, "That''s fine. You can follow the family tradition."


    Despite her harsh words, Rhaenys felt a kinship with her niece, both having suffered under the same system. She admired Rhaenyra''s strength, even if she didn''t show it openly. Rhaegar found himself enjoying a good conversation with Laenor, who seemed to take a liking to him.


    At that moment, a new figure entered through the still-open doors. The man had short silver hair, wore ck leather armor, and bore a cynical smile.


    The banquet continued with its usual pomp and circumstance until a suddenmotion interrupted the revelry.


    Bang...


    Viserys'' face twisted with anger as he mmed the table, shouting, "Daemon, you bastard, how dare you show up in front of me!?"


    Rhaegar was startled by his father''s outburst and turned to see who had entered. His expression hardened when he recognized the visitor. Daemon Targaryen, the very man who was on the wanted list.


    Daemon was standing at the door, eating a piece of bread with salt. As he strolled in, the room fell silent.


    Swish, swish...


    Two guards unsheathed their swords and positioned them at Daemon''s neck, their expressions grim.


    Daemon swallowed thest bite of bread, raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender, and smiled faintly. "Brother, I am here enjoying the rights of a guest."


    "You are a criminal and deserve no such rights," Viserys retorted angrily. "Arrest him and throw him in the dungeon."


    The sword des pressed against Daemon''s skin, and he winced slightly. Still, he managed to say, "For tonight, at least, I''m here as a guest."


    With that, he unsheathed the Dark Sister, his Valyrian steel sword, and offered it with both hands.


    Viserys sneered at the gesture. "You fool. You have no honor in my eyes."


    The hall was filled with tension, and many of the guests had stopped eating, their eyes fixed on the unfolding drama. Viserys'' fury was palpable. This was the man who had almost killed his son.


    "Your Grace, Daemon has eaten your bread and wine. It''s against the gods''ws to harm a guest under your roof," Corlys Vryon interjected.


    Viserys shot Corlys a look that said it all. "Lord Corlys, did hee here with your family?"


    Daemon''s timing was suspicious,ing so close on the heels of the Vryons. Viserys was already suspicious of Daemon and Corlys'' rtionship.


    Corlys met the king''s gaze evenly. "I don''t know what crime Prince Daemon hasmitted, but he''s your blood. A kinyer is cursed by the gods."


    "The kinyer is him!" Viserys shouted, his agitation mounting.


    Daemon spoke up, "Brother, all our kin are alive and well. I have killed no one."


    "Shut your mouth, or I''ll rip out your tongue," Viserys snapped, his eyes zing.


    Daemon fell silent, lowering his head.


    The tension was palpable, and the festive atmosphere had turned icy. Guests looked around ufortably, their earlier smiles now frozen.


    Seeing the need to defuse the situation, Lyonel Strong rose and approached the king, speaking in a low voice, "Your Grace, Daemon has walked into your grasp. There will be ample time to execute himter."


    "Are you suggesting I let this murderer attend the banquet?" Viserys replied, his tone indicating disgust.


    "Today is the heir changing ceremony, and nobles from all over the continent are gathered here. It is not fitting to spill blood on such an asion," Lyonel advised, considering the consequences of a public execution.

 Chapter 115: Black and Green

    Chapter 115: ck and Green


    Viserys''s face fell upon hearing the news of Daemon''s imprisonment. While it was a relief to have him detained, the scandal of the royal family''s infighting was now at risk of bing public knowledge.


    Rhaenyra, eager to prevent rumors of internal conflict, had expressed her support for Rhaegar''s im. The tranquility of the day could not be shattered by Daemon''s antics.


    Rhaegar approached his father and tugged at his sleeve. Viserys looked down at his son, confusion etched on his face.


    "Father," Rhaegar whispered, "the rights of guests cannot be vited. Confiscate his sword and detain him immediately after the banquet."


    No matter what Daemon and the Sea Snake might be up to, Daemon''s presence in King''s Landing made it tough to get away. There was no need to let their anger get the better of them.


    Viserys looked at his son for a long moment before turning to Lyonel for advice.


    Lyonel nodded. "The prince is right. Daemon can''t escape."


    Taking a deep breath, Viserys snorted. "Very well, let him have one morefortable night." He then ordered, "Confiscate his sword and let him in."


    "Yes, Your Grace," the guards responded. They took the Dark Sister, Daemon''s Valyrian steel sword, and thoroughly searched him for any hidden weapons.Daemon cooperated, smiling as he said, "Brother, I am here only to send my blessings for my great nephew''s celebration."


    "Thank you, uncle," Rhaegar replied coldly, signaling the guards to take the sword.


    "Find a corner to sit in and grab some wine before the feast ends," Viserys ordered with contempt.


    Daemon spread his arms helplessly. "I am your brother."


    "You''re not worthy," Viserys shot back, not even looking at him.


    Daemon looked around the room for a ce to sit, but was interrupted by a loud thump.


    Lady Rhea rose from her seat, ring at Daemon with fury. "Rhea, sit down," Jeyne whispered, trying to prevent her from making a scene.


    "Hmph!" Rhea obeyed reluctantly, shooting Daemon a look of pure disgust before sitting down.


    Daemon smirked. "Isn''t this mydy? Concerned about your husband?"


    "Vile!" Rhea spat, cursing him.


    Daemonughed coldly and found an empty seat. He wasn''t supposed to be here, but he couldn''t resist the urge to meet his nephew, the new heir.


    As Daemon settled, Viserys tried to restore the festive atmosphere. "All of you..."


    Bang...


    The door opened again. Alicent, dressed in a striking green gown, walked into the hall, holding Aegon in one hand and Hena in the other. Her calm, assured demeanor drew everyone''s attention.


    The room fell silent. Green was a significant color, particrly for House Hightower. When Oldtown called its bannermen to war, the lighthouse on the Hightower would light up green.


    Viserys understood the implication of the color and looked puzzled.


    Rhaegar, keeping his gaze on Alicent,mented, "Your Grace, your dress is beautiful."


    Alicent smiled gently. "I chose it carefully. It''s the only one that suits tonight''s mood."


    "I''m d you dressed up for my celebration, but I don''t like the color of your dress," Rhaegar said, ncing at the Hightower table. "Change it. There is still time."


    Otto looked puzzled, not expecting his usually soft-hearted daughter to make such a bold statement. Hobert, on the other hand, seemed pleased, waving to Aegon beside Alicent.


    Viserys spoke in a low voice, "Alicent, I left my handkerchief in my room. Fetch it for me."


    He did not wish to see his queen in a green dress; it felt like a slight against him.


    Alicent approached the main seat, let go of her children''s hands, and wiped Viserys''s mouth with a handkerchief. "I like this dress and won''t change it."


    Viserys grabbed her wrist. "You must."


    "Unless you want me to remove it right now, I must decline," Alicent replied firmly, her eyes steely.


    She knew precisely what her family wanted and was exhausted from their maniptions.


    She had endured enough; the sleepless nights and constant strain had worn her down. She was tired of merely surviving in the shadows.


    Now, it was time to stand up for herself, live openly and boldly, and fight for her children''s future.


    Viserys, realizing her determination, let go of her hand. His mood, already soured by Daemon''s appearance, worsened.


    Alicent ignored her husband''s displeasure and took her seat beside him without acknowledging Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar scanned the room, his expression unreadable. "Rhaegar, get some rest," Rhaenyra suggested, trying tofort him.


    Rhaegar shook his head, a wry smile on his lips. "Someone''s in a hurry," he muttered.


    He wasn''t happy, but he had been prepared for this. Rhaenyra''s time as heir had sown discord, and now as the heir, he had to deal with the fallout.


    When he became crown prince, thew prevailed.


    And the demons lurking in the shadows will be unable to bear it; they will reveal their fangs.


    This is good��it��s crucial to know who the enemy is.


    The feast continued, but there was a bit of an awkward atmosphere. Viserys tried to lighten the mood with a speech, and then the music started and people started dancing.


    Rhaegar stayed seated, not in the mood for festivities.


    The Kingsguard was carrying the Dark Sister away, but Rhaegar intervened, requesting to let him see it.


    Viserys didn''t refuse this time; he had contemted gifting the ancestral sword to his eldest son.


    Daemon isn''t worthy of it.


    The Kingsguard brought the Dark Sister to him, and he examined it closely.


    The system beeped. "Quest initiated: explore the Valyrian steel sword, Dark Sister."


    Rhaegar smiled slightly, his mood improving. He ced the Dark Sister on the table, his hand resting on the hilt.


    Dark Sisters


    Exploration progress: 0.5%


    The music yed, and the earlier tension dissipated as people found dance partners. However, Rhaenyra declined several invitations, citing feeling unwell as her reason.


    Among them stand Jason and Tnd, the twin brothers of House Lannister, alongside Lyonel''s eldest son, Harwin Strong, among many others.


    Eventually, frustrated and annoyed, she left the party early.


    Rhaegar watched her leave before turning his attention back to the hall. He observed Daemon dancing with Rhaenys''s daughter, Laena, showing affection and Alicentughing with her family.


    Everything seemed normal, but Rhaegar could sense the undercurrents of tension and rivalry. The banquet continued, but the night''s events had revealed much about who stood with him and who stood against him.

 Chapter 116: Undercurrents

    Chapter 116: Undercurrents


    As midnight approached, the ball showed no signs of winding down, with nobles still enjoying the social festivities.


    Rhaegar, feeling the weight of the long night, rested his head on his hand, battling fatigue.


    Footsteps echoed, and suddenly Daemon appeared, catching Rhaegar''s suspicious gaze.


    With hands raised in mock surrender, Daemon chuckled, "Great nephew, I haven''t yet offered my congrattions on your ascension to heir."


    Rhaegar''s brow furrowed. "Why are you here?"


    "I felt like it. Do I need more reason?" Daemon replied nonchntly.


    "As you wish, you and your Dark Sisters are wee," Rhaegar remarked, casting a nce at the precious sword.


    Daemon yfully asked, "Can you even lift it with your height?"


    Rhaegar remained calm, unsure how to respond to such audacity.Could anyone be so bold?


    After a moment''s thought, Rhaegar raised his ss. "Uncle, I appreciate your boldness and the help you''ve given my father. Here, to you."


    In his mind, Daemon was already a trapped animal.


    No need for harsh words.


    Daemon eyed the juice in the ss and shook his head. "Children''s drinks. I prefer fine wine."


    Rhaegar smiled. "As heir, when I extend a courtesy, you must oblige."


    "What if I decline?" Daemon smirked.


    "Let''s find out then."


    Rhaegar replied by tipping his ss, which spilled the juice onto the floor. Daemon looked perplexed, so Rhaegar brought the ss down firmly onto the table.


    There was a thump as Erryk drew his longsword and held it to Daemon''s neck.


    Daemon looked Erryk in the eye and gave him a disdainful look. "Are you nning to kill me?"


    "I will if necessary," Erryk stated firmly.


    Rhaegar poured another ss of juice and offered it to Daemon. "Here, Uncle. Have a drink."


    Daemon lifted his hand, overturning the ss once more, the juice spilling out. "You1re a naive little prince. Do you think I''ll yield to you?"


    Bang--


    The cup crashed onto the tabletop once more, and Rhaegar''s countenance turned icy.


    Swish swish...


    Two more des emerged from their scabbards, one poised at Daemon''s neck and the other at his lower back.


    Daemon nced back, finding Cole and Harrold, who had silently approached, their expressions unreadable.


    Both were Kingsguard, privy to Daemon''s transgressions. How could they allow a sinner to approach the prince with such impunity?


    "Uncle, I''m raising my ss to you because you''ve been so supportive of my father," Rhaegar said, raising his ss again and tilting his head.


    "I understand your thoughts. My father was merciful, but I am not. I will be the judge, ensuring you never don the ck Cloak and journey to the Wall."


    Rhaegar knew his father''s tendencies well, even amidst all the animosity. When push came to shove, Viserys would inevitably hesitate.


    Daemon''s expression shifted slightly. "You n to send me to the Wall as a brother of the Night''s Watch?"


    Rhaegar replied, "Drink this, and you may live past tonight."


    He gave his uncle another chance. Kinying was a pretty serious usation, and he was reluctant to see his father lose a blood rtive.


    "I never thought that you''d despise me so much."


    "Go to the Wall and try to make amends."


    There was a brief silence, broken by Daemon''s grin.


    He was impressed by his nephew''s generosity, even in trying to spare his life.


    Daemon epted the ss, sniffing the fragrant juice before bringing it close to his lips.


    Viserys silently apuded the move, his eyes darting between the two.


    Daemon took a tentative sip before spilling the juice onto the ground with a sigh. "Unfortunately, this isn''t to my liking."


    Bang--


    A wine ss struck Daemon''s forehead, causing him to stagger.


    Viserys trembled with anger, his teeth grinding, "Get lost and savor the end of your miserable life, you heartless beast!"


    "Fine, have it your way," Daemon retorted, covering his bleeding forehead as he pushed past the blocking Cole and merged into the dancing throng.


    Observing his nephew''s temperament, Daemon felt the night had not been in vain.


    As a prominent figure in the family, his actions caught the attention of many well-meaning individuals.


    At the Vryon lineage table, Rhaenys gripped her cutlery tightly, her toneced with venom, "You court your own demise, so don''t me others for it."


    "Daemon is his own man," Jeyne reassured softly, her eyes flickering with amusement as she nced at Rhaegar. "The heir seems to be a bit more astute than Rhaenyra."


    "He''s the son of thete Queen Aemma Arryn and is a natural ally for you and the Vale," Yorbert analyzed.


    "You''re right, but I''m more intrigued by his marriage," Jeyne mused, her fingers lightly tracing her chin.


    Yorbert hesitated, "The prince is only six years old, and ording to Targaryen family tradition, he has a pair of sisters to choose from."


    "Who knows," Jeyne chuckled.


    At the head table, Viserys was breathing heavily and looked flushed with anger.


    He couldn''t understand why his eldest son had denied Daemon a chance at life when he himself was willing to grant it.


    Must he, his own brother, be the one to sever his head?


    "I''ll grant you your wish, you bastard," Viserys seethed, suppressing his rage.


    Rhaegar told Cole and Harrold to stand down and guard the entrance. On closer inspection, he could see that his hands were trembling slightly, and that he was breathing heavily.


    But it wasn''t fear or anger; it was a rush of excitement.


    "Uncle, an eye for an eye," Rhaegar said.


    Meanwhile, back in the Dragonpit, the roars of the dragons could be heard echoing around the circr chamber.


    There were several massive dragons in there, including Vaghar, Meleys, Sea Smoke, and Syrax.


    Bound by iron chains, Daemon''s Blood Wyrm let out a roar of rage, its gaze sweeping the dark corners of the crypt.


    Far away, a ck dragon scaled the Dragonpit''s wall, its movements betraying its master''s emotions.


    In the Banquet Hall, Rhaegar hoisted his heavy Dark Sister, bidding his father farewell with a smile, "I''ll be on my way now, Father."


    "Go on; the feast will continue for some time," Viserys replied, his response mild.


    Rhaegar nodded, halting Erryk from following as he whispered a word in his ear.


    Erryk''s brows furrowed, and he nodded solemnly.


    "Goodbye," Rhaegar bid him farewell before departing.


    The festivities carried on, with Tully, Tyrell, and other nobles expressing their regrets upon learning of the prince''s departure.


    Meanwhile, Daemon, rejected by one partner after another, roamed aimlessly through the crowd.


    "No dance partner?" a soft voice called from behind, as Laena approached with a smile.

 Chapter 117: Dragon Attack On A Rainy Night

    Chapter 117: Dragon Attack On A Rainy Night


    Daemon''s gaze roved over Laena''s form, appreciating her curves, exoticplexion, and seductive red lips, all of which aligned perfectly with his tastes.


    He extended his hand with a smile and said, "It looks like your dance partner left you hanging."


    "It does," Laena replied, intertwining her fingers with his. "But I have more pressing matters to attend to, so I guess I''ll have to lower my standards and dance with you."


    Daemon''s eyes lit up with desire as they began their dance.


    With a bold move, Laena leaned in, her ample bosom pressing against him as she spoke softly, "Have you thought about how you''re going to leave?"


    She inherited her mother Rhaenys''s analytical nature and couldn''t understand Daemon''s arrogance without a n.


    "I can''t divulge all my secrets, my dear," Daemon chuckled, his hand trailing down her waist, growing bolder.


    "A piece of advice: the Dragonpit is now under the control of the new heir. You''d better get out of here," Laena said in a low voice.


    Daemon''s expression didn''t change as his hand kept exploring, and his words were still ambiguous. "Then I''ll have to be quick about it."A quick nce revealed the guarded main gate, leaving him no easy means of escape without a weapon. Other passages were simrly patrolled, and he knew he was under close scrutiny from the moment he set foot in King''s Landing.


    As the ball went on, Daemon and Laena danced together, seeming rxed despite the situation.


    Corlys felt a twinge of unease as he observed his daughter with Daemon. Such interactions weren''t good for the Vryon House.


    Rhaenys suggested, "Should we call Laena back?"


    Corlys shook his head. "We arrived here with Daemon; we can''t deny our association."


    "Daemon won''t find it easy to slip away," Rhaenys predicted, anticipating his imminent arrest.


    "No rush. I''m curious to see if our king has the ruthlessness to handle Daemon," Corlys mused with interest.


    "Hmph. They''re all my kin; I have no interest in such drama," Renise retorted coldly, rising from the table.


    Opting to return to Driftmark for the greater good, she had no desire topete for the Iron Throne or witness further familial discord.


    Internally, Rhaenys couldn''t help but silently chastise her two cousins for their foolishness.


    ...


    As midnight drew near and the early morning hours approached, the ball reached its peak, with the music reaching a crescendo that would stir the deepest emotions of the attendees.


    "Scream!" A sudden cry pierced the air. "Fire! There''s a fire outside!"


    Gasps and murmurs rippled through the hall as mes flickered against the stained ss windows, casting an eerie glow inside.


    Fire had erupted within the Red Keep, starting inconspicuously in an attic before rapidly spreading, engulfing nearby gambling dens and brothels.


    Viserys and his tired entourage were trying to keep things calm as they tried to put out the fire.


    Lyonel swiftly organized men tobat the fire, including his eldest son, Harwin.


    "Your Grace, perhaps it''s best if you depart," Lyonel urged, concerned for the king''s well-being.


    Viserys declined. "No, the fire hasn''t reached the banquet hall yet. I must reassure our guests."


    Suddenly, candles flickered and went out one by one, plunging the hall into darkness except for a few remaining bonfire pots.


    "Protect the King!" Harrold, captain of the Kingsguard, sprang into action, quickly positioning himself between the king and any potential threats, followed closely by Cole.


    Amidst the chaos, panicked cries rang out, echoing off the walls as noblewomen recoiled in fear.


    Laena, in the dimness, grasped at Daemon''s belt, her expression serious. "Where do you think you''re going?"


    Daemon tightened his grip on her chin as he replied coldly, "You said I should make a quick exit. Well, here''s my chance."


    "Do you really think you can escape?" Laena''s words carried weight.


    "I have to try. I''d rather lose my head or spend my days on the Wall, devoid of all pleasure," Daemon replied, slipping away into the confusion towards a secluded corner of the hall.


    Watching him depart, Laena shook her head in disappointment. "A self-important man indeed."


    ...


    As the fire raged on, Red Keep soldiers and gold-cloak guards from King''s Landing worked hard to put it out.


    Meanwhile, Daemon skillfully evaded the patrolling guards and made his way to a hidden passage within the Red Keep.


    When he got there, he found a guy in ck robes waiting for him. It was like they''d made a deal.


    "Once this is done, our agreement will be fulfilled," the figure said, tossing Daemon a matching ck robe.


    Daemon''s reply was brief. "I think it would be a good idea if you came with me."


    The figure shook their head firmly. "No, I have anothermitment I need to keep."


    Without further ado, Daemon donned the ck robe and disappeared into the secret passage, while the ck-robed figure slipped away into the night.


    As Daemon emerged from the Red Keep, he was met with a sudden downpour. The rain intensified as if spurred on by the earlier fire.


    He kept going, undeterred by the weather, navigating the narrow alleys and letting the rain cascade around him.


    Arriving at the Dragonpit


    Ka-ching��


    A Dragonkeeper''s neck snapped suddenly from behind, his body copsing lifelessly.


    Another Dragonkeeper, startled, reached for his sword, but before he could react, a swift kicknded in his abdomen, sending him crashing to the ground.


    With determination, Daemon advanced, swiftly crushing the fallen man''s throat underfoot.


    A swift and silent dispatched the two Dragonkeepers and cleared his path.


    With Caraxes, his dragon, awaiting him, Daemon swiftly freed the beast from its chains and mounted its back.


    As they soared into the stormy sky, a lone figure emerged from the shadows, their presence unnoticed.


    ...


    Caraxes soared swiftly, leaving the skies over King''s Landing behind and entering the expanse of ckwater Bay.


    It was raining hard, with each drop sshing loudly on the ground.


    Daemon felt a rush of relief at escaping King''s Landing. He knew he''d made the right call. Had he waited to depart early in the morning, he wouldn''t have dared to face his brother.


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes suddenly roared, his body twisting uneasily.


    "What''s wrong, Caraxes?" Daemon inquired, sensing his dragon''s agitation.


    Caraxes''s pupils dted alertly as he quickened his flight.


    Rumble!


    A thunderstorm erupted, lightning illuminating the night sky.


    Daemon looked up, spotting a massive shadow followed by Caraxes weaving among the clouds.


    "Uncle, I''ve found you!" Rhaegar''s voice boomed as the shadow descended.


    "Roar..."


    Another roar, distinct from Caraxes, widened Daemon''s eyes in rm.


    Cannibal dove down, its green dragonfire igniting fiercely as it collided with Caraxes''s neck.


    "No!" Daemon yelled, gripping the reins tightly.


    Before he couldmand a response, Cannibal''s mes engulfed Caraxes''s head and eyes.


    Even in the rainy night, Cannibal''s dragonfire raged fiercely.


    "Cannibal, tear them apart!" Rhaegar''s eyes glinted with madness as he watched the chaos unfold.


    Daemon realized that his nephew was nning to kill him. He''d gone back to King''s Landing to provoke him.


    Yet, he''d been expecting Daemon to run and had been waiting for him.


    "Roar..."


    As Cannibal''s mes died down, it grabbed Caraxes, its ws digging into his spine as it lunged for his wing with a savage bite.


    Caraxes wailed in agony, twisting frantically in a futile attempt to break free from Cannibal''s grasp.


    However, despite its efforts, Caraxes couldn''t escape, and its slender body was ensnared by Cannibal''s relentless hold.


    Stab...


    Cannibal, having long hungered for the taste of its own kind, struck with ferocity, shattering Caraxes''s shoulder de with a single bite.


    Poor Caraxes never stood a chance to retaliate; its body was torn asunder.


    "Dracarys!"


    Rhaegar''smand echoed once more.


    Cannibal savagely ripped apart flesh and blood, swallowing it greedily before unleashing another torrent of green dragonfire.


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes roared in agony as the dragonfire seared his already wounded flesh, causing him to plummet uncontrobly.


    "Caraxes, hold on!"


    Daemon''s voice rang out desperately as he watched his dragon being destroyed before his eyes, a chill gripping his soul as he struggled to maintain hisposure.


    Rhaegar didn''t show any mercy. Cannibal''s mes kept raining down on Caraxes, trying to send him plummeting into the sea.


    In the pouring rain and thunderous skies, Caraxes was no match for Cannibal''s pursuit.


    With a ssh, it went into the ocean.


    Daemon had no time to undo the chain around his waist; he was dragged into the depths alongside his dragon.


    The sea was in a state of turmoil, with Caraxes''s blood staining the waters crimson and mixing with the cold waves.


    Rhaegar was shaking, holding Cannibal aloft, his once-regal attire now soaked by the rain.


    As lightning illuminated the night, Rhaegar''s expression twisted in agitation, his chest heaving.


    Wiping away the rain, Rhaegar''s features contorted into a cold re.


    "Uncle, you left me no choice!"


    Rhaegar''s voice echoed with a hint of madness. ��I owed you a mouthful of dragonfire and today I paid it back!��


    "My father may have spared you, but I won''t! I''vee to end you!"


    The tempest intensified, mirroring Rhaegar''s turbulent emotions.


    Whew...


    A gust of wind swept past, tossing Rhaegar''s hair in disarray.


    Cannibal roared, slowing its pace.


    Rhaegar gazed up at the dark, cloudy sky, his expression conflicted, as if wrestling with a decision.


    After a moment''s hesitation, he gritted his teeth and issued amand, "Cannibal, let''s go!"


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal obeyed eagerly, its wings beating with renewed vigor.


    Looking back, the sea had vanished into a blur in the distance.


    A bolt of lightning pierced the clouds, illuminating the other half of Rhaegar''s face, revealing uncertainty and inner turmoil.


    "You spared me on Dragonstone Ind, so I''ll grant you a chance to live," he murmured.


    "With such a vast ocean, pray that Caraxes lives up to its name."

 Chapter 118: Excellence in Swordsmanship

    Chapter 118: Excellence in Swordsmanship


    118 AC, Early Summer, Morning


    Above the city of King''s Landing, a pitch-ck dragon soared gracefully, its enormous shadow casting a vast expanse of darkness over the city below.


    "Roar..."


    The dragon''s roar reverberated across the sky, causing many people to stop and look up in awe. When they saw the dragon, they showed respect and quickly left.


    After seven years, the people of King''s Landing had gotten used to seeing the ck dragon. It belonged to Rhaegar Targaryen, the king''s eldest son and heir to the Iron Throne, who was known affectionately as the Good Prince.


    Singers and troubadours had given him this title because they thought he was kind and did a lot of good, especially for the city''s orphanage.


    The ck dragon flew around King''s Landing beforending slowly on the hill where the Dragonpit was located.


    "Wee back, Prince."


    The Dragonkeepers, who had been awaiting his return, rushed forward as the massive dragon touched down.Sitting atop Cannibal, a fierce dragon, was a handsome young man with silver hair, purple eyes, and a paleplexion. His expression remained indifferent as he dismounted.


    "Where''s Erryk? Tell him to get the guards ready for the Mushroom Set''s caravan," Rhaegar said firmly.


    Maynard Waters, garbed in a schr''s robe, approached respectfully. "Prince, the Kingsguard have been summoned back to the Red Keep."


    Rhaegar nodded, a smile touching his lips. "Then send someone to make the necessary preparations. The caravan will arrive before afternoon."


    "Yes, Prince," Maynard responded promptly.


    Once he''d given his orders, Rhaegar climbed down thedder and patted Cannibal''s snout gently.


    "Hoo..."


    Cannibal snorted, his green pupils full of reluctance.


    Rhaegar said, "Just stay in the Dragonpit and you can roam freely at night."


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal shook his head, then lumbered towards the Dragonpit. The Dragonkeepers quickly stepped aside, wary of the swaying dragon''s tail.


    Seeing this, Rhaegar smiled faintly. "Let''s go. After a few days away, it''s time to return to the Red Keep."


    "Yes, Prince," responded the Dragonkeepers in unison, forming two lines to escort the prince to his carriage, nking it as it moved.


    After years of diligent work, the Dragonpit had been thoroughly refurbished and nowy firmly under Rhaegar''s control. In King''s Landing, the Dragonpit was undeniably his domain.


    ...


    The Red Keep, Martial Arts Arena


    Rhaegar had changed out of his dragon-riding attire. He now stood bare-chested, wearing a skirt-like garment around his waist and holding an elegant sword.


    The attire was inspired by fragmented images from his dreams. These dreams were often disjointed, but asionally offered practical insights that Rhaegar experimented with during his leisure time.


    The sword in his hand was the Dark Sister, one of the Targaryen family''s ancestral des. This Valyrian steel longsword had been a gift from his dear uncle Daemon on the night of the heir exchange.


    Rhaegar often missed his uncle, who always brought him something remarkable whenever they met.


    ng...


    The sound of iron striking iron echoed as Rhaegar wielded the Dark Sister, shing with his opponent.


    "Prince, your swordy is swift, but itcks finesse," observed Syrio, the Water Dancer.


    Syrio was a short man with curly brown hair. He smiled calmly and moved with a light step. His sword, held like a snake in his hand, was poised to strike.


    Syrio had been teaching Rhaegar how to use a sword since he was eight years old, and they often sparred. Today, Rhaegar wanted to test how much he had progressed.


    He lunged forward, the Dark Sister shing darkly as it shed towards Syrio.


    Syrio responded with ease, blocking and retreating, maintaining his stance with one hand holding the sword and the other behind his back.


    "Syrio, a one-handed sword can��t block a heavy chop!" Rhaegar��s voice was clear and confident. He kicked Syrio in the stomach, then brought his sword down in a two-handed strike.


    At only thirteen years old, Rhaegar already stood tall at 175 centimeters. His upright posture and long limbs allowed him to momentarily overpower Syrio during their sparring sessions.


    Syrio quickly regained his footing and swung his sword upwards, countering Rhaegar��s attack with practiced precision.


    ng...


    With a sharp crack, Syrio''s one-handed sword broke, and the Dark Sister hovered above his head.


    "You win, Prince," Syrio said, swallowing hard as he looked up at the cold steel.


    "Your swordsmanship is the best in the continent. I only had the advantage because my weapon is superior," Rhaegar said, sheathing the Dark Sister. He nodded towards Erryk, who was watching from a distance, and then beckoned him over.


    "Prince, catch!"


    Erryk threw a steelnce, which Rhaegar caught with ease.


    "Let''s do this again, Syrio," Rhaegar said, taking thence in both hands. He moved with great agility, spinning thence with fluid grace.


    Rhaegar was not only a great swordsman; he was also a skilledncer. He''d spent years honing his sword skills, while hisnce skills were developed through exploring ancient relics.


    By calling the system, he can see the new information.


    Rhaegar Targaryen


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold), Longevity (Green)


    Bloodline: Ancient Valyrian Dragonlord (39%)


    Skills: Sword Mastery, Spear Mastery, Old Valyrian Language Proficiency


    Relic: Blood and Fire, True Dragon''s Blood, Knight''s Oath


    Evaluation: "Excellent scion of an ancient bloodline, expect that gold coin of yours to always be on the greatness side."


    Rhaegar''s mouth curled into a smile as he reviewed the system panel.


    His spearmanship came from a exploration from a ancient brokennce, granting him exceptional skill at a young age.


    Facing the prince''snce, Syrio smiled helplessly and retrieved another one-handed sword from the weapon rack.


    This time, theirbat was even fiercer.


    Rhaegar''s spear moved like a raging storm, constantly striking and thrusting.


    Syrio��s movements were fluid, his one-handed sword blocking and intercepting while his body danced left and right with agility.


    As the fierce exchange continued, Rhaegar''s breathing grew heavier, his face flushed with excitement.


    He relished the sensation of his blood boiling��it was more invigorating than a hot spring.


    With a final, powerful strike, the spearhead spun and thrust straight towards Syrio��s forehead.


    Dang...


    The tip of the spear swept past Syrio''s eyes, aiming for his brow, but was blocked by the spine of his sword.


    Syrio''s eyes were intense as he held his sword firmly to stop the spear.


    p...


    "Good move, Rhaegar!"


    A clear voice apanied by apuse echoed from the second-floor observation deck.


    Rhaegar looked over to see Rhaenyra, dressed in a ck dress, smiling and pping enthusiastically.


    "Rhaenyra, you''re back from Dragonstone Ind?"


    Rhaegar took his spear and looked at her with surprise.


    Rhaenyra was beaming as she turned and walked to the staircase entrance, then ran down the stairs. "I got back yesterday, and you were the only one who didn''t know."


    Rhaegar was overjoyed to see his sister after such a long time and quickly walked towards the staircase corner.


    As Syrio passed by, Rhaegar swung his spear, hitting Syrio in the leg and sending him sprawling.


    Before Syrio could even moan in pain, Erryk stepped forward, shackles in hand, and quickly cuffed Syrio��s hands and feet.


    "Time to wrap it up, Swordsman," Erryk said. He grabbed Syrio by the arm and caught thence Rhaegar threw to him with the other hand.


    Syrio was more than just Rhaegar''s fencing teacher. He was also a regr visitor to the dungeons of the Red Keep.

 Chapter 119: Small Council Meeting

    Chapter 119: Small Council Meeting


    Rhaegar didn''t even look back; he''d gotten used to it. Syrio made a mistake and decided to face the consequences instead of running away. Rhaegar respected his swordsman teacher''s decision.


    Rhaenyra quickly reached the corner of the stairs, jogging down to meet him. The two siblings embraced tightly.


    At 21, Rhaenyra had blossomed into a beautiful woman, her slim figure entuated by a ck skirt, her long silver hair framing her face.


    Rhaegar, now more imposing and confident, grabbed her by the waist, looked her over, and asked, "Did the trip go well?"


    Rhaenyra, slightly shorter than her brother, leaned into his arms and lifted her chin proudly. "Syraxid three dragon eggs, three whole eggs!" She held up three fingers, beaming with pride.


    "Syrax lives up to her name. The future of our family depends on such a productive dragon," Rhaegar praised her with a smile.


    Suddenly, Rhaenyra''s smile faded a bit. "Are your dreams still troubling you?" she asked, her gaze full of concern. She gently stroked his paleplexion, noting the dark circles under his eyes.


    "It''s okay, just one dream every few days. I''ve gotten used to it," Rhaegar reassured her, shaking his head.


    Over the years, his Dreamer talent had been kicking in, bringing vivid images of dragon fights, mes, and battles into his dreams.There were even glimpses of another world, mostly useless except for some historical facts about dynastic changes.


    Rhaenyra, full of pity, wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, "I haven''t seen you for a month. Did you miss me?"


    "Of course, all the time," Rhaegar replied, a smile breaking across his pale cheeks.


    "That''s a good boy. Here''s a reward for you." Rhaenyra cupped his cheek and ced a light kiss on it.


    Rhaegar coughed softly, breaking away from the embrace and changing the subject. "I need to take a shower first. Let the kitchen prepare a reception for you."


    "No problem," Rhaenyra agreed with a smile.


    ...


    Rhaenyra''s bedroom smelled great. It was filled with the aroma of a sumptuous meal. The round table was loaded with fried and saut��ed dishes, along with a variety of desserts.


    Rhaenyra, not worried about her image, took a big bite of the food and enjoyed every bite.


    Rhaegar, having eaten a few simple bites, sat back to watch.


    The dishes were based onmon ingredients but were delicious and easy to prepare.


    He had arranged for a small kitchen and trusted staff to prepare his meals.


    Ostensibly, this was to develop new recipes, but in reality, it was a precaution against poisoning��two birds with one stone.


    Knock Knock


    Halfway through the meal, there was a knock on the door and Erryk''s voice came through. "Prince, the king has convened a Small Council meeting and invited you to attend."


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed slightly. "Got it, I''ll be there in a moment."


    "Father is calling you; you''d better go quickly," Rhaenyra suggested, swallowing a mouthful of cake, her cheeks puffing out.


    "There''s no rush. We''ll go together once you''re done eating," Rhaegar said nonchntly, leaning back in his chair.


    "What am I going to do? I''m not a adviser," Rhaenyra said hesitantly.


    As the Princess of Dragonstone, she was technically qualified to attend the Small Council Meeting, but her status as the former crown princess made it somewhat awkward.


    "It doesn''t matter. There''s a good show to be seen today," Rhaegar said, a smile spreading across his face as he thought of the issues discussed at thest Small Council Meeting.


    ...


    Half an Hour Later


    Rhaegar escorted Rhaenyra to the council hall. As they approached the solemn gates, Rhaegar nced at her nostalgically. "Rhaenyra, do you remember the first time I came here?"


    "You were just a little kid then, clinging to me and calling me sister," Rhaenyra replied, resting her hands in front of her belly and smiling at the memory.


    "That''s right. Last time, you led me through the door. This time, it''s my turn," Rhaegar said, cing his hand on the gate and giving it a firm push.


    Creak...


    The door opened wide, revealing the scene inside. Viserys sat at the head of a round table, nked by the other advisers of the realm.


    Rhaegar stepped through the door, looking around before opening his arms. "My lords, forgive me for beingte."


    Viserys rose slowly, his eyes on his eldest son. "Rhaegar, it is not a good habit to bete," he said with mock sternness.


    "Of course, but I have an excuse," Rhaegar replied, stepping aside to reveal Rhaenyra behind him.


    "Rhaenyra, will you be attending the Small Council meeting as well?" Viserys asked, a smile spreading across his face at the sight of his daughter.


    Viserys knew that Rhaenyra had returned to King''s Landing from Dragonstone yesterday, but she had note to see him.


    He was not angry about this. Rhaenyra had deliberately distanced herself from him since the heir exchange, but he believed it was worth it.


    Rhaegar had grown into a better heir, bringing him hope and making him feel much better in recent years.


    "Oh, I didn''t n on it," Rhaenyra shrugged, walking calmly inside. She''d grown up in this ce and it felt like home to her.


    "Father, what''s the big topic today?" Rhaegar asked, more rxed than Rhaenyra, as he strode in and swept his gaze over the small council.


    Present were: Lyonel Strong: Hand of the King, Tnd Lannister: Master of Ships, Maester Mellos: Grand Maester, Lyman Beesbury: Master of Coin, Jasper Wylde: Master of Laws.


    Beside Viserys stood Ser Criston Cole, the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, appointed in 112 AC after the death of Ser Harrold Westerling.


    The advisers all stood up to show their respect as Rhaegar approached the conference table. "Sit down, no need to be polite," he nodded gently.


    Rhaegar noticed only one empty chair at the table and turned to Ser Criston Cole. "Ser, please fetch a chair."


    Cole nced at the king, hesitating. The Master of Laws, Jasper Wylde, frowned and spoke up, "Prince, the Princess is not a member of the small council and should be excused."


    "I am not a member of the small council either, should I recuse myself as well?" Rhaegar replied, pulling back the chair in front of him and tilting his head towards Jasper.


    Jasper nched and said, "You are the heir, and it is in ordance with etiquette for you to participate in political affairs."


    "Very well. Rhaenyra was also once heir and is the Princess of Dragonstone. She is eligible to participate in the council," Rhaegar said firmly. He was the heir, and what he said was the rule.


    He then pulled Rhaenyra''s hand and pressed her into the empty chair. Looking back at Cole, he said coldly, "Ser, do I have to say it a second time?"


    Cole remained silent and looked to the King. Viserys, somewhat helpless, said, "Go on, move a chair for the princess."


    Rhaenyra was the Princess of Dragonstone, holding one of the most importantnds of the Targaryen family. Her participation in the council indicated a desire to mend her rtionship with her father, which was beneficial for both the family and the realm.


    When the chair was brought in, Rhaenyra sat down beside Rhaegar and reached for the tter in the center of the table. Inside the te was a ck stone ball with a green dragon pattern.

 Chapter 120: Dragonpit Reform

    Chapter 120: Dragonpit Reform


    Tink��


    The stone ballnded in the slot in front of Rhaegar, signifying that the heir prince was ready and the Small Council Meeting had officially begun.


    Tnd Lannister was the first to speak, his expression serious. "Your Grace, there are signs that the Kingdom of the Three Daughters is resurging after many years."


    "ording to thetest reports, ships near the Stepstones have been intercepted by an unknown group of pirates."


    Viserys''s face grew heavy. "Are you sure it''s the Three Daughters?"


    "Not confirmed yet, but the signs point to them," Tnd replied, shaking his head.


    "The Three Daughters'' pirates are a serious threat to the kingdom. We must send more spies to gather urate information and should not underestimate them," Viserys sighed.


    He didn''t want the kingdom involved in a war, especially with the Stepstones so far from King''s Landing.


    Tnd nodded, concluding his report.Next was Lyonel Strong, Hand of the King. cing one hand on the table, the bloated Hand spoke slowly, "Your Grace, the construction of the Prince''s pce has begun, and the cost is considerable."


    "That''s fine. We''ll cover it from the treasury," Viserys said, smiling at Rhaegar. "That''s good news for you."


    "Thank you, Father," Rhaegar replied, leaning back in his chair with a smile.


    Traditionally, the fiefdoms of Crown Princes were on Dragonstone.


    Topensate Rhaenyra, the ind was returned to her until her death, leaving Rhaegar without his own fiefdom.


    After years of negotiations, it was decided that both the heir Prince and the <em>Princess </em>should have their own residences.


    Viserys had given Rhaegar a piece ofnd of his choosing to build the Prince''s Pce. Work had begun early this year, but due to its distance from King''s Landing and the time required to select materials andbor, construction had only recently started.


    Lyonel finished his report.


    The Minister of Finance, Lyman Beesbury, rose slowly to his feet, holding a report in his hand. "Your Grace, the Prince has submitted a proposal for the reconstruction of the Dragonpit. The costs are so high that I cannot authorize it."


    "Oh, let me see," Viserys said, puzzled. Criston Cole passed the report to him.


    Viserys flipped through a few pages, his face darkening with each page he read.


    He gritted his teeth and said, "Rhaegar, the Dragonpit is a significant structure for the royal family. It cost a fortune to build, and now you want to demolish and rebuild it?"


    Rhaegar remained calm and replied, "Father, you yourself said the Dragonpit is extremely important."


    "The current Dragonpit is merely a ce of confinement, not a suitable nest for dragons."


    "Dismantling and rebuilding a more appropriate nest will benefit our dragon breeding efforts."


    Rhaenyra raised her hand in support. "I agree!"


    "I disagree!" Viserys interjected sharply. Grimacing, he continued, "Look at your proposal. To build a tower-like Dragonpit, we''d need all the stone in the kingdom and immense resources."


    He knew the Dragonpit was important, but he believed that power was the key to ruling the kingdom. Rebuilding would be so expensive that even emptying the treasury might not be enough.


    Lyman Beesbury spoke up, "Your Grace, the construction of the Prince''s Pce has already strained our finances. Rebuilding the Dragonpit could bankrupt us."


    As the master of coin and lord treasurer, every gold coin in the treasury was his lifeblood. The idea of spending such arge sum distressed him deeply.


    Tnd raised his hand to speak. "We need to make sure the treasury is full, especially with the uncertain situation on the Stepstones.


    "That''s right, I veto the prince''s proposal," Jasper added.


    As the small council voiced their opposition, Viserys took a deep breath and said, "This proposal is dismissed. The country can''t afford such extravagance."


    "The kingdom is always short of money," Rhaegar muttered, undeterred. "The reconstruction can wait, but the reform program must pass."


    The reform program included increasing the number of Dragonkeepers, dragonbat training, and reorganizing a research group.


    Rhaenyra turned to Rhaegar in surprise. Despite her time as heir, she hadn''t been allowed to present programs to the Pre-Regency Council so freely.


    She suddenly realized the gap between them. Rhaegar was no longer a child but a grown man. His silver-gold hair, dark circles under his eyes, high nose, and firm lips gave him a dignified appearance. His posture was straight, his demeanor calm, and his manners impable.


    Many nobledies in the kingdom had been enchanted by him at first sight. Suddenly, Rhaenyra''s earlobes turned slightly red, and she hurriedly looked away.


    "Rhaegar is an adult now," she murmured to herself, her heart beating a little faster.


    No one noticed the princess''s thoughts as the discussion over the Dragonpit reform continued heatedly.


    Half an hourter, the discussion concluded. Viserys pped his hands and said, "The Dragonpit can be reformed, but it must be done within its limits. If anything goes wrong, it should be halted immediately."


    "Yes, Father."


    The motion passed, and Rhaegar, grateful, embraced his father. He had never expected the proposal to rebuild the Dragonpit to pass. Reform had been his primary goal. The current Dragonpit was still too weak and needed strengthening in every aspect.


    Viserys, somewhat resigned, squeezed his eldest son''s arm. It gave him somefort. The mere sight of a healthy, intelligent heir was reassuring.


    Viserys thought for a moment and then advised, "You can take charge of the Dragonpit, but after this, you will assist the advisers and learn how to run the kingdom."


    Rhaegar understood his father''s good intentions and epted dly. "No problem, Father."


    With the Dragonpit matter settled, the Small Council moved on to other political issues.


    Rhaenyra, not particrly interested in politics, rose silently from her chair. She walked around the council table, picked up a sk from the firece, and poured a ss of wine for her father. She then served each of the ministers. The ministers nodded their thanks, and for a moment, it felt like old times.


    Rhaenyra, as a young girl, had often served wine while listening to the council��s discussions. When she finally reached Rhaegar, nostalgia filled her. She lifted the wine bottle skillfully.


    Rhaegar, however, covered his ss and moved aside. Looking at her gently, he said, "You''re not serving wine anymore."


    After her teenage years, Rhaenyra had grown more beautiful, deserving the title "Realm''s Delight."


    Rhaenyra smiled. "I have to do something."


    "Sit down. The meeting will be over soon."


    Rhaegar pulled her back into her seat and pushed the sk toward their father, who had finished his drink.

 Chapter 121: Eight Hundred Warriors

    Chapter 121: Eight Hundred Warriors


    As noon approached, the meeting concluded.


    Each participant ced the stone ball in front of them back onto the disk and exited the conference hall together.


    "Viserys."


    As they stepped out of the main door, Alicent, dressed in a green gown, called softly and naturally took her husband''s arm.


    "How long have you been waiting, Alicent?"


    Viserys asked with a smile, appreciating his wife''s concern. He was in the prime of his life and really liked the young and beautiful Alicent, and they often showed their affection openly.


    "I''ve prepared lunch, just waiting for you to join me."


    Alicent''s smile was charming, her gaze soft and inviting.


    Viserys nced at his advisers and straightened his back, feeling honored by his wife''s thoughtfulness. The advisers acknowledged his look with nods and smiles, then dispersed.Viserys turned to his children with an invitation. "How about joining us for lunch? Alicent has prepared a wonderful meal."


    "No, I ate with Rhaegar," Rhaenyra responded tly, turning to leave. She was estranged from her father and even more so from her "best sister" Alicent. Thest thing she wanted was to share a table with them.


    Rhaegar stood by, amused as he watched Rhaenyra walk away. Since she lost her status as heir, she''s been more open about her disdain.


    "Ahem..."


    Rhaegar''s thoughts were interrupted by a light cough. He looked over to see Tnd, a blonde Lannister, cupping his throat and winking at him. Though Tnd was handsome and stylish, Rhaegar found his winking irritating.


    After a moment''s contemtion, Rhaegar politely declined his father''s invitation. "Father, the Mushroom Set''s caravan will be entering the city soon, and I need to supervise it."


    Viserys was a bit disappointed. "A bunch of savages, what''s the point of being busy with them?"


    However, he understood his eldest son''s dedication and let it go. He took Alicent''s hand and they walked away side by side.


    Once they had gone, Rhaegar approached the waiting Tnd and smiled. "Lord Tnd, what do you need to discuss?"


    "Let''s chat as we walk."


    "Alright."


    As they walked down the corridor, Tnd sped his hands behind his back, trying to appear casual. "Prince, do you know why the Queen showed up at the Council Chamber door today?"


    "Did she take any action?"


    Rhaegar kept his smile and asked.


    Alicent had been quiet since the heir recement ceremony.


    Apart from a few minor, harmless maneuvers behind the scenes, she had consistently maintained the image of a virtuous woman and had never had any conflict with Rhaegar.


    Tnd nodded. "Thest time you proposed to clean up the streets of King''s Landing, the Queen privately rmended her father, Lord Otto, to take up the post."


    "Oh, she came up with a clever idea," Rhaegar said with a faint smile. "Not only does she bring Otto back into the fold, but she also secures real power."


    The resident poption of King''s Landing had swelled to a staggering 500,000 people. It was one of thergest city-states in all of Westeros, serving as the political heart of the realm.


    Yet, despite its significance, the city was gued by severe issues. The poption was bloated, order wasx, and the streets were littered with filth and reeked of human waste.


    In the summer, the stench was so overpowering that even dragons could smell it from ten miles away.


    Before the Dragonpit reform program, Rhaegar had suggested a street cleanup to improve the residents'' environment.


    "Prince, you should''ve nned ahead and picked someone to execute the strategy," Tnd said sincerely.


    "Let''s not forget that letting Otto go back to King''s Landing will not only let him benefit from your efforts, but it''ll also create unnecessary problems."


    "Thank you for the information, Ser Tnd."


    Rhaegar gave Tnd a pat on the shoulder and parted ways at the corner of the staircase with a smile.


    Rhaegar had no doubt about the uracy of Tnd''s intelligence. However, he could only shake his head at the implications.


    ...


    Nightfall


    Rhaegar returned to the Dragonpit.


    The door opened, and a dimly lit interior was revealed, where the flickering of campfires merged with the glow of nightlights. Rhaegar walked at a steady pace, listening out for any subtle sounds on the stone floor.


    "Roar..."


    All of a sudden, a loud roar filled the cavern as green dragonfire shot up like a pir, lighting up the whole space.


    The Cannibal dragon made its way up to the top of the Dragonpit, looking down at it as the ruler.


    The Dragonpit zed with light, revealing a single silhouette standing tall, surrounded by others in a neat formation.


    "Prince..."


    As soon as they saw Rhaegar, cries echoed through the vastness of the Dragonpit, their resonance like the beat of drums.


    Puh-puh-puh...


    The bonfires were lit one after the other, quickly dispelling the darkness and bringing the Dragonpit back to full brightness.


    In the center of the Dragonpit, two groups of men stood tall with their heads held high.


    One side was made up of around three hundred men, all wearing leather armor and carrying spears and swords. They were the original guards of the Dragonpit.


    On the other side, nearly a thousand tall, powerful individuals dressed in animal skins and rough-hewn clothes stood. These were the free folk who had followed Rhaegar from Crackw Point.


    One man from each group stepped forward.


    Maynard, decked out in a guard''s uniform, looked like he''d been sick.


    And a thin, brown-haired young man in coarse linen, with a white falcon perched on his shoulder.


    The young man approached Rhaegar, bowed, and spoke in a soft voice. "Prince, eight hundred warriors are waiting for your orders."


    Rhaegar pped him on the shoulder. "No problems with transportation, right, Tormund?"


    Tormund nced at the white falcon on his shoulder and smiled shyly. "Don''t worry, I have more than one pair of eyes."


    This white falcon was a legacy from his tribe.


    "Good," Rhaegar said. "Send someone to collect the equipment tomorrow and increase the number of Dragonkeepers to a thousand."


    He scanned the 800 free folk warriors, his heart swelling with pride. These were the warriors he had painstakingly trained. Now, as the Dragonpit needed men, they formed a legitimate armed force.


    In the vast city of King''s Landing, the royal family��s army consisted of only two thousand gold cloaks and the dragon couldn''t always be by his side.


    How could he rest easy without an armed force at his side?


    ...


    Rhaegar organized his men and made his way up to the second floor of the Dragonpit, where his private room was located.


    There was a slight creak as he opened the door.


    Rhaegar pushed open the door and stepped into the room, frowning slightly.


    "You''re back?"


    A familiar voice rang out, and amp illuminated Rhaenyra''s figure.


    Rhaegar closed the door, lit the candle inside the room, and said with surprise, "Rhaenyra, why are you here?"


    "Waiting for you, of course."


    Rhaenyra, now wearing a strapless red dress, swayed her hips as she approached. She lifted his chin with a finger andughed lightly. "This afternoon, the caravan of free folk looked like a long snake entering the city. It wasn''t hard to guess where you''d be."


    "You saw the team I organized. What do you think?"


    Rhaegar didn''t beat around the bush, sittingfortably at the table in front of the firece.


    "They''re pretty fierce, and they''re definitely worthy of the wildlings. They could be very useful."


    Rhaenyra''s tone was genuine.


    Rhaegar picked up a quill and started sketching on a piece of paper as he talked. "Solving the survival problems of the free folk hasn''t been easy."


    "The Mushroom Set''s caravan, right? That''s a clever way to make money."


    Rhaenyra thought of the special caravans operating in the Crownds and the Rivends, her tone tinged with envy.


    Most nobles in the Crownds were pretty well off, and their borders was a great ce to make money.


    Trade in the Rivends had slowed down because of the way the rivers there run together and the fact that the local lords don''t really work together.


    Rhaegar had teamed up with the old Lord of the Tully family to organize traveling merchants who transported goods between different noble territories. They traded and exchanged along the way.


    This venture brought in a lot of money every year.


    That way, he could support the free folk under hismand and also have surplus funds to spend.

 Chapter 122: Laena and Daemon

    Chapter 122: Laena and Daemon


    Hearing Rhaenyra''s envy, Rhaegar nced at her andughed, "You''re making quite a profit from collecting ship taxes on Dragonstone Ind, aren''t you?"


    "Not as much as you earn."


    Rhaenyra moved a chair and sat aside.


    Rhaegar shook his head. "The Mushroom Set caravan earns quite a lot but also spends a lot."


    "Every year, the profit is divided: 30% goes to Old Tully as a dividend, 30% to maintain the lives of the free people, and 10% to fill the Princess''s private coffers."


    "In the end, not even half of the gold coins are left in my hands."


    "Why, are you hurt?"


    Thinking of the private treasury she had built for herself, Rhaenyra smiled.


    It was a huge amount of resources. Not only gold dragons, but also all kinds of leather goods, jewelry, and exotic treasures.Rhaenyra''s expenses in King''s Landingrgely relied on this private treasury.


    "This ispensation for you. It''s just some gold and silver, nothing more."


    Rhaegar valued emotional bonds over gold and silver. If they were really short of money, the treasury could be drawn upon. He just didn''t want to ask his father for money. Freedom of wealth and providing for free people needed to be managed independently.


    After a few moments of silence, Rhaenyra changed her tone and asked, "I have two pieces of news, one good and one bad. Which would you like to hear first?"


    Rhaegar''s hand paused for a moment as he wondered, "Where did thate from?"


    "Rhaenys!" Rhaenyra gave the answer.


    "I see, let''s start with the good news."


    The news came from Rhaenys, and Rhaegar had a slight headache guessing about what.


    Rhaenyra mused, "Laena has given birth, a set of twin daughters, and the Targaryen bloodline is multiplying again."


    "She''s still very much in love with Daemon."


    Rhaegar snorted and said, "Back then she risked treason to save our good uncle and in the blink of an eye a child was born."


    Seven years ago, on a rainy night, he guessed that Daemon wouldn''t be honest and would not face thew, so he took the Cannibals to guard ckwater Bay in advance.


    Daemon, unsurprisingly, escaped on a Caraxes, and Rhaegar caught him in the act.


    After he left, Laena rode Vaghar to rescue Daemon, who had fallen into the sea.


    To escape the king, the two hid in a free-trading city-state and organized a wedding.


    "Rhaegar, I know you. You don''t care about them anymore."


    Rhaenyra put her hand on Rhaegar''s shoulder soothingly.


    After that night, Daemon and Laena were wanted by the kingdom and fled. But Rhaenyra knew that both her father and brother had tacitly refrained from mentioning them again, assuming that the culprits had fallen into the sea.


    "Tell me the bad news."


    Rhaegar was a little annoyed.


    Rhaenyra nodded. "Laena sent me a letter; she misses her homnd, wants her newborn son to grow up in it, and begged me to plead with you and Father."


    "You agreed?"


    Rhaegar raised his head in surprise, not expecting Laena to make such a request.


    Rhaenyra replied helplessly, "If I had said yes, how could I call it bad news?"


    Rhaegar grunted and rubbed his forehead.


    Personal bravery aside, Laena was now the greatest dragon rider in the world, master of the greatest dragon, Vaghar. Her family''s power had grown in recent years and was now at its peak.


    Not to mention, the massive fleet under the Sea Snake''smand was formidable.


    As for the dragons, Laenamanded Vaghar, Meleys, Caraxes, and Seasmoke - all experienced in war. On the other hand, the royal family had only three dragon riders including him: Rhaenyra with Syrax and Aegon, who had recently tamed Sunfyre.


    Of the three, only Rhaenyra hadbat experience. Syrax and Sunfyre were still young dragons, inferior even to the youngest of Laena''s dragons, Seasmoke.


    "The Sea Snake is not an easy man to contend with. What are you nning to do?" Rhaenyra asked gently.


    Rhaegar''s thoughts flowed as he considered the Vryons'' deep heritage. "Laena cane back, but her two children, bearing the Targaryen name, must be raised by the royal family."


    He had thought it over. Daemon was a traitor, but his children had pure Targaryen blood. Raising two children who could control dragons while keeping Laena as their mother was a strategic move. It was a deal that made sense from any angle.


    "What about Daemon? He won''t leave his wife and daughters," Rhaenyra asked.


    Rhaegar tilted his head back and murmured, "Daemon is a traitor, and the day he returns to Westeros is the day I will ride Cannibal to tear him apart."


    For the sake of their blood ties, Rhaegar could tolerate Daemon living in the world��but not in front of him.


    "All right, I''ll tell Laena the answer."


    Thinking of the plea in her best friend''s letter, Rhaenyra could onlyment that things had changed.


    Rhaegar squeezed her hand and said solemnly, "Rhaenyra, you have very poor taste in friends."


    "Why do you say that?" Rhaenyra frowned, questioned about her judgment.


    Rhaegar said amusedly, "Look at your close friends. Alicent became our stepmother and Laena married Daemon."


    "I me Grandfather for having only two heirs, Father and Daemon, or you might have had some good friends for aunts."


    "Rhaegar, you are too much!!!"


    Rhaenyra''s mind exploded at thement.


    ...


    Three dayster at Dragonpit.


    "Stay out of the way, or the dragon will stomp you!"


    "I''m keeping my distance, brother."


    "Then stay away, Sunfyre doesn''t care if you''re my brother or not..."


    Rhaegar was making his routine inspection of the Dragonpit, and as soon as he entered, he heard a familiar voice.


    He looked over and saw a golden dragon lying in the center of the Dragonpit, surrounded by dragonkeepers. Not far from the dragon stood two figures��onerge and one small.


    "Brother..."


    Rhaegar was about to approach when he heard a soft, joyful call from the corner.


    He turned and saw a little girl with silver hair and purple eyes sitting near a bonfire. She was about ten years old, pink and pretty, wearing a white dress.


    "Hena, why are you here?" Rhaegar asked, walking up to his sister and waving.


    Hena was pale, with some bottles and jars in front of her and a wriggling reptile in her hand. When she saw Rhaegar approaching, she hurriedly stuffed the reptile into a ss bottle and blocked it with the jars. Her brother didn''t like her messing around with these little creatures.


    Walking closer, Rhaegar nced over Hena''s shoulder and said helplessly, "I already saw it. What''s the use of hiding it?"


    Hena lowered her head like a child who had made a mistake. "I just looked, I didn''t y with it."


    "I''m not against you ying with bugs; I just think you should have more contact with humans," Rhaegar said, gently rubbing her little head.


    He still liked his well-behaved sister, but for some reason, Hena had be more withdrawn as she grew older. She spent all day locked in her room, ying with snakes and bugs that no normal girl would like. This was not a good sign.

 Chapter 123: Sunfyre and Aegon

    Chapter 123: Sunfyre and Aegon


    "Brother..."


    Hearing Rhaegar''s advice, Hena stood up gently, her head lowered.


    "Don''t be nervous, no one will me you."


    Rhaegar held Hena''s face, lifting her head to look at him. "Why did youe to the Dragonpit?"


    Seeing his little sister was rare, so he cherished these moments.


    Feeling the warmth from his hands, Hena turned away and mumbled, "Mother told me toe here. She said that all the Targaryen children have to tame a dragon."


    Rhaegar smiled, understanding the situation. ncing at his brothers in the distance, he saw through Alicent''s intentions.


    Aegon had tamed Sunfyre, giving Alicent a significant boost in status. Hena, at nine, and Aemond, at seven, were old enough to tame dragons. Unfortunately, the dragon eggs in their cradles had never hatched. If they wanted to tame a dragon, they had to try at the Dragonpit.


    Amused, Rhaegar held Hena''s small hand. "Come on, a dragon egg hatched in the Dragonpit at the beginning of the year. It''s a very beautiful young dragon."Despite Alicent''s rivalry and ambition, Rhaegar wasn''t one to let personal issues cloud his judgment. Helping his half-siblings tame dragons was wise; dragons were the Targaryens'' treasure. A dragon without a master was ineffective.


    Hena shared his dreamer''s gift and was a pure Targaryen. Helping her tame a dragon was no problem.


    "Brother, can I touch Sunfyre?"


    "No, Sunfyre is a raging dragon. It will bite your arm off."


    "......"


    As they approached the golden dragon, Rhaegar overheard his two brothers.


    "Aegon, do you want to ride the dragon and let off steam?"


    As he approached, Rhaegar''s eyes were filled with amusement.


    Rhaegar!"


    Seeing Rhaegar, Aegon was startled and looked ufortable. He hated this half-brother more than anything.


    "Big brother."


    Aemond, a bit at a loss for words, greeted nervously. He was only seven, with frizzy silver-gold hair and a pale green tunic, resembling his father, Viserys.


    "Well, you''re getting a little taller."


    Rhaegar let go of Hena''s hand and patted Aemond''s head, keeping his smile.


    Alicent had three sons and a daughter. Except for Aegon, whom he disliked and often lectured, Rhaegar was a caring older brother to the others.


    His eyes fell on Aegon. Rhaegar tilted his head and asked, "Aegon, what did you just call me?"


    "Nothing. I didn''t call you anything."


    Aegon''s face stiffened and he unconsciously took half a step back.


    Rhaegar shook his head, stepped forward and squeezed Aegon''s shoulder, a yful look in his eyes. "No, call me again."


    "Gulp."


    Looking directly into his elder brother''s eyes, Aegon''s heart pounded, and he swallowed hard.


    His knees felt weak. Over the years, he had developed a fear of his eldest brother. Were it not for his younger brother and sister, he would have wanted to turn and run.


    "What are you nervous about, brother?"


    Sensing Aegon''s emotions, Aemond tugged at the corner of his cloak, his eyes full of curiosity.


    To Aemond, Aegon was a brave Dragon rider, a hero who feared nothing.


    Looking down at his younger brother, Aegon gritted his teeth.


    Why did you have to speak up now?


    Taking a deep breath, Aegon, still intent on maintaining hisposure, muttered, "Brother."


    "That''s right."


    Rhaegar patted Aegon''s shoulder, a smile ying on his lips.


    Foolish brother, my name isn''t something you can call so casually.


    "Tell me, what are you doing with Sunfyre? Trying to ride a dragon for a run?"


    The atmosphere eased, and Rhaegar nced towards the golden dragon in the distance.


    Sunfyre was no ordinary dragon. It had hatched from the same clutch of eggs as Syrax. With its golden scales and light pink wing membrane, it was a majestic, handsome dragon.


    Sometimes, even Rhaegar envied Aegon for riding such a beautiful creature.


    Aegon, still a bit wooden-faced, replied absentmindedly, "I brought the two of them to the Dragonpit to meet the dragons and to watch the dragonbat training you''ve implemented."


    "Meeting the dragons is fine, but no to thebat training."


    Rhaegar''s tone was firm. "The Dragonkeepers have just been recruited. They''re not familiar with the dragons yet, so the battle training will have to wait."


    "It''s just drawing a bow and shooting arrows at a dragon. What''s so difficult about it?"


    Aegon muttered, clearly reluctant.


    The so-called dragonbat training referred to the traditional Targaryen technique. Soldiers would chain one of the dragon''s legs and shoot arrows at it to train the dragon''s dodging ability. This technique had been discontinued after Aegon the Conqueror''s death.


    To Rhaegar, the dragons were the family''s strength. While there might not be many opportunities to ride a dragon into battle, every family member should be prepared.


    That''s one reason he revived the technique.


    Rhaegar ignored Aegon''s dissatisfaction. The boy was never very smart, and Rhaegar didn''t care.


    Rhaegar ordered the nearby Dragonkeeper, "Go fetch Tessarion."


    Tessarion was the name Rhaenyra had given to the young dragon that had recently hatched. The Dragonkeeper nodded and hurried off.


    Upon hearing there were other dragons, Aemond''s eyes lit up, staring eagerly at Rhaegar with wide eyes. Rhaegar hesitated, recognizing the eagerness in Aemond''s gaze.


    There was only one young dragon, not enough for both Hena and Aemond. After a moment of thought, Rhaegar asked another Dragonkeeper, "Is Dreamfyre sleeping?"


    "No, that dragon just finished feeding," the young Dragonkeeper replied in High Valyrian, anguage he wasn''t fluent in.


    Rhaegar nodded. "Bring Dreamfyre as well. It''s been in the crypt long enough."


    "As you wish, Prince," the Dragonkeeper responded. He called for helpers and went off to retrieve Dreamfyre.


    After giving the orders, Rhaegar ced a hand on each of his siblings'' heads, ruffling their hair gently. "There will be two dragons. It''s up to you to tame them."


    "Thank you, big brother," Aemond said, his face flushed with excitement. "I will seed."


    He didn''t care about the animosity between Aegon and Rhaegar. All he wanted was a dragon of his own.


    Hena, however, was much quieter. She kept her head bowed and her toes traced circles on the stone floor, looking a bit bewildered. She rarely left her room and knew little about dragons.


    When her mother told her toe, she came and since Rhaegar told her to tame a dragon, she would try.


    Aegon watched the scene unfold. He despised Rhaegar for currying favor with their younger siblings. How could Aemond, with his eagerness, and Hena, with her quiet demeanor, seed in taming dragons?


    He had spent years trying to tame Sunfyre.


    "I''m not going to y house with you," Aegon muttered. He rolled his eyes and walked towards Sunfyre, standing a short distance away.

 Chapter 124: Tessarion

    Chapter 124: Tessarion


    He wasn''t interested in watching a child tame a dragon; Sunfyre was his true love.


    Aemond nced at his less-than-happy brother and hesitated for a moment, pretending not to notice.


    He was seven years old now.


    By this age, his older sister Rhaenyra had already sessfully ridden Syrax.


    His older brother Rhaegar had tamed thergest dragon he had ever seen, the king of the wild dragons, the Cannibal, at the age of six.


    Aemond wanted to tame a dragon so he could be honored by his father and praised by his mother.


    As for his brother Aegon, he could only say sorry in his heart.


    ...


    Time passed.The Dragonkeepers returned one after another.


    "Roar..."


    Two distinct dragon roars echoed through the Dragonpit, apanied by the voices of the Dragonkeepers as they approached.


    Before long, arge and a small dragon emerged from their respective crypts.


    Dreamfyre needed no introduction.


    With light blue scales threaded with silver, light blue wings, and silver back scales, the dragon was sleek and adorned with a regal crown of horns.


    The smaller dragon, barely the size of a horse, was equally striking.


    Its wings were a deep cobalt blue, and its ws, crown, and belly scales gleamed like polished copper. Its form was elegant and noble.


    This was the newly hatched baby dragon, Tessarion.


    "Dragons! There are two dragons!" Aemond''s voice trembled with excitement as he took in the sight.


    "Don''t worry, they''re unimed dragons. You''ll have plenty of chances," Rhaegar said, cing a hand on Aemond''s shoulder to prevent him from rushing forward in his enthusiasm.


    To be honest, he was d to see his third brother so enthusiastic.


    Aemond''s passion for dragons was simr to Rhaegar''s from childhood��it was a shared interest.


    "Uh-huh, I get it, brother."


    Aemond''s eyes never left the two dragons, scanning them eagerly.


    As the dragons drew closer, his excitement grew. He pulled Hena''s hand and eximed, "Sister, look! Brother has prepared two dragons for us!"


    Beforeing to the Dragonpit, Alicent had advised the three siblings to avoid provoking Rhaegar and to focus on taming the dragons.


    Aemond had been prepared for Rhaegar to make things difficult.


    He hadn''t expected Rhaegar to be so amodating, presenting them with two dragons to tame.


    Hena winced in pain from her brother''s grip and frowned. "Keep your voice down, Aemond. You might not seed in taming them."


    "Sister!" Aemond yelled, frustrated as if doused with cold water.


    Hena pulled her hand away, continued to gaze at Rhaegar, and muttered absentmindedly, "The beast will tear our flesh!"


    "What?" Rhaegar was startled by her words and immediately turned to Hena.


    This little girl''s asional nonsensical remarks often held prophetic truths.


    Her words were too powerful to ignore.


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but take them seriously.


    Hena flinched, her eyes filled with panic, and she stammered, "No, nothing, I''m talking nonsense."


    "I heard what you just said. What does it mean?" Rhaegar asked gently, kneeling down to smooth her hair.


    "No, no, I didn''t..."


    Terrified, Hena backed away, tears welling up in her eyes.


    She was scared!


    Ever since she was a kid, she''d been gued by visions and the rumors they''d sparked.


    Her mother had taught her to be quiet and behave like ady.


    Although she wasn''t sure what it meant to be ady, she knew to keep her mouth shut.


    "Be brave, Hena."


    Seeing his distressed sister, Rhaegar sighed and gently embraced her.


    He stroked her head with a tender look of pity in his eyes. "Don''t be afraid. No one can hurt you. I''ll protect you."


    He had the same nightmares, and he understood her situation.


    Of course, he wanted to protect her.


    "Sister, don''t cry. I''ll protect you too," Aemond said, holding Hena''s hand and gently shaking it.


    Compared to their domineering brother Aegon, he preferred thepany of his quiet sister.


    When Hena cried, he felt helpless.


    He tried to mimic Rhaegar''sforting gestures.


    Hena''s sensitive heart was soothed by their support, and she nestled into Rhaegar''s arms, unwilling to let go.


    "Prince, Dreamfyre is ready," the Dragonkeeper reported.


    "Thank you. Take Aemond to meet the dragons first," Rhaegar instructed, his voice calm.


    He looked at Hena in his arms, a mix of concern and resignation on his face. It was obvious that she wasn��t ready to tame a dragon today.


    "Big brother, I''ll go ahead," Aemond said, patting Hena''s hair before eagerly following the Dragonkeeper. He was determined to tame a dragon and envisioned taking his sister on exhrating flights to cheer her up.


    The Dragonkeeper asked, "Prince, which dragon would you like to try?"


    Aemond��s gaze flitted between Dreamfyre and Tessarion, his mouth dry with anticipation. Both dragons were magnificent, and he wished he could have them both.


    "I think I''ll go for this one, smaller and more docile," he finally said, pointing to the young Tessarion.


    Aemond approached Tessarion with a bit of caution, following the Dragonkeeper��s instructions.


    He wasn��t making a spur-of-the-moment decision; he��d carefully gathered information from his brother Aegon.


    Dreamfyre was known to be feisty and had been confined in the Dragonpit for years. Aegon had told him how Rhaegar had once tried to tame Dreamfyre and nearly got incinerated.


    In Aemond��s mind, Rhaegar��s ability to tame the Cannibal marked him as extraordinary. If even he struggled with Dreamfyre, Aemond knew he needed to be realistic.


    Under the Dragonkeeper''s guidance, Aemond approached Tessarion slowly. "Tessarion, look at me," he said in High Valyrian, trying to establish a connection.


    Tessarionyzily on the ground, flicking his tail and ncing asionally at Dreamfyre and Sunfyre, clearly uneasy in their presence.


    "Tessarion, we can be partners," Aemond said, his eyes full of hope as he reached out to touch Tessarion��s horn.


    Suddenly, Tessarion leaped up, snapping his jaws fiercely.


    "Ah, no!" Aemond cried, pulling his hand back and stumbling away in fear.


    "Quiet, Tessarion!" The Dragonkeeper tugged on the chain around Tessarion��s neck and spoke calming words to pacify the young dragon.


    Aemond copsed to the cold ground, his heart pounding, cold sweat dotting his forehead. This was his first brush with real danger, and the failure stung deeply.


    "Hahaha, did you pee your pants, Aemond?" Aegon taunted from atop Sunfyre, who roared in apparent agreement and spread his wings, shaking his head in mockery.


    Feeling humiliated and defeated, Aemond could only watch as his brother continued tough at his expense.

 Chapter 125: Aegon’s Rebellion

    Chapter 125: Aegon��s Rebellion


    Aegon was an arrogant character, and Sunfyre was also a proud dragon. Together they demonstrated the simrities between dragon and rider.


    When mercilessly mocked by his brother, Aemond couldn''t hide his anger. "No, you''re wrong! What are you talking about?" he retorted, his pale face betraying his fear. Despite his terror, he held on to his pride and couldn''t stand the humiliation.


    Aegon rode Sunfyre closer, looking down at Aemond. "Idiot, that dragon doesn��t even like you," he sneered. Taming a dragon wasn''t easy; it had taken him years to bond with Sunfyre.


    Aemond stood up, ring at his brother. "You''re lying! Tessarion is just not used to people yet. He��ll ept me," he shouted. Despite the near injury, he still held hope.


    Aegon tossed his long silver-gold hair back and replied proudly, "Save your breath. Taming a dragon doesn��t happen overnight."


    "No! I am also have dragon blood. I can definitely seed!" Aemond insisted, summoning the courage to approach Tessarion again. He extended his hand, saying, "Tessarion, you will recognize me, right?"


    "Roar..." Tessarion growled, his eyes filled with rage.


    "Come on, I can be your master," Aemond said, stepping back anxiously. He had always dreamed of taming a dragon. His elder siblings, Rhaegar and Rhaenyra, had sessfully tamed dragons at his age. How could he fail?


    "Don��t bother. This dragon isn��t meant for you. Go back and hatch some eggs," Aegon mocked, stroking Sunfyre��s scales."Aegon, Aemond is your brother. Watch your words!" Rhaegar intervened, unable to stand by any longer. Family bonds should not be mocked so cruelly.


    Aegon, undeterred, retorted, "He��s my brother. I can say whatever I want. It��s none of your business!" He remembered his mother''s teachings: an older brother should discipline his younger siblings. But he conveniently forgot the part about protecting them as well.


    "Aegon, who do you think you��re talking to?" Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as he approached, holding Hena. Seeing Rhaegar angry, Aegon felt a chill down his spine.


    Sunfyre growled lowly, sensing his master��s unease. Aegon reached out to touch Sunfyre��s spine, drawing courage from the dragon��s warmth. Memories of Rhaegar��s oppression, his father Viserys��s disdain, and his mother��s lessons fueled his rebellion.


    "I��ll say what I want. We��re all born of the same father. Why should I be afraid?" Aegon dered, gripping the saddle tightly. "What can you do to me?"


    Rhaegar''s response was a cold smile. "Good, you impressed me today." He began walking toward Sunfyre, Hena still in his arms.


    "What are you doing? Don''te closer!" Aegon yelled, panic creeping into his voice.


    "Aegon, do you think being a Dragon rider makes you superior?" Rhaegar asked, now standing directly in front of the golden dragon and his brother.


    "Of Course! I tamed Sunfyre; I am the pride of the royal family!" Aegon shouted, his voice cracking as he involuntarily shifted back on the saddle.


    "Roar..." Sunfyre, sensing his rider''s distress, let out a warning roar. The dragon��s massive muzzle opened, releasing a sulfurous stench that blew Rhaegar''s hair back.


    Rhaegar, unfazed, covered Hena''s ears and red coldly at Sunfyre. "Quiet!" hemanded in High Valyrian. Despite the dragon''s roar, Rhaegar''s authority grew stronger.


    Sunfyre��s ferocity was roused as he lowered his head and exhaled hot breath towards Rhaegar. But Rhaegar showed no fear, his violet eyes locking with Sunfyre��s.


    In a sh, a green dragon pattern flickered in Rhaegar''s pupils, caught by Sunfyre''s sensitive gaze. A strong sense of danger caused the dragon''s pupils to shrink, and he backed away slightly, closing his jaws.


    Rhaegar, ignoring the golden dragon, pointed at Aegon and said coldly, "Get off, Aegon!"


    "Brother, you''re hot!" Hena, nestled in his arms, squirmed and raised her head.


    Rhaegar''s skin had turned red, and his body temperature was rising rapidly, as if he were ame. Hena, feeling the intense heat, began to sweat.


    Aegon, drenched in sweat himself, was shocked. Rhaegar wasn''t afraid of the dragon; the dragon was afraid of Rhaegar.


    Fighting the urge to roll off Sunfyre''s back, Aegon''s eyes darted to Tessarion, who was fidgeting nearby. His eyes lit up with an idea. "It''s this dragon that scares Aemond. Why are you taking offense at me? Go find it."


    "I told you to get off, Aegon!" Rhaegar''s voice grew icier, focused solely on Aegon. Today, Rhaegar was determined to teach him a lesson about respect and hierarchy.


    Aegon shivered at Rhaegar''s yell and looked toward the disoriented Aemond. "Aemond, don''t you want to tame the dragon? I''ll help you subdue it!"


    He then ordered Sunfyre, "Hold down that young dragon."


    "Roar..." Sunfyre, having just restrained his temper, received his master''smand. His eyes fixed on Tessarion, a hint of cruelty glinting within them. Misunderstanding themand, Sunfyre��s instincts were to incapacitate it.


    Sunfyre lunged toward Tessarion, golden mes bursting from his mouth. Tessarion, unable to defend himself, was engulfed in the fire, his body scorched.


    "No! Tessarion, are you alright?" Aemond cried, rushing to his beloved dragon.


    "Idiot! Unauthorized attacks are forbidden in the Dragonpit!" Rhaegar didn''t expect Aegon to target Tessarion.


    Sunfyre''s attack triggered a chain reaction. The injured Tessarion roared in pain, and Dreamfyre, startled by themotion, pped her wings and roared in response, causing a cacophony of dragon cries.


    "Find a ce to hide," Rhaegar ordered, putting down Hena and grabbing a strong bow from the Dragonkeepers. He aimed an arrow directly at Aegon. "Don''t make me say it a third time, Aegon!"


    "Don''t! I''lle down, I''lle down," Aegon stammered, unlocking the chain around his waist and hurriedly dismounting Sunfyre. He realized he was in deep trouble.


    "Roar..." Sunfyre, now free, twisted and turned, scanning the other dragons with irritation. The presence of Dreamfyre and Tessarion agitated him, driving his bloodlust.


    As soon as Aegon was on the ground, Sunfyre lunged at Dreamfyre, initiating a new wave of chaos among the dragons.

 Chapter 126: Sunfyre = Snack

    Chapter 126: Sunfyre = Snack


    Sunfyre moved with agility, dashing away the smaller dragons that blocked his path, and mmed his head into Dreamfyre.


    "Roar..."


    Caught off guard, Dreamfyre was knocked to the ground. Sunfyre, smaller but relentless, immediately lunged at Dreamfyre��s neck, aiming to tear off a chunk of flesh.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre hastily retracted its neck and let out a furious roar, pping its wings to strike Sunfyre repeatedly. Sunfyre, smaller but more aggressive, immediately lunged for Dreamfyre''s neck, aiming to rip off a chunk of flesh.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre hastily retracted its neck and let out a furious roar, pping its wings to strike Sunfyre repeatedly. Despite Sunfyre''s ferocity, he struggled tond a meaningful bite.


    Dreamfyre, though not thergest of the second-generation dragons, was still formidablepared to the fourth-generation Sunfyre. Dreamfyre''s experience and size gave it an edge, despite being out of practice.


    With a mighty breath, Dreamfyre unleashed a torrent of orange and light blue dragon me, knocking Sunfyre to the ground. Sunfyre staggered as he tried to rise, his smaller size making it difficult to match Dreamfyre��s strength.As the dragons tussled, Aegon realized the gravity of his mistake and tried to flee.


    Whoosh!


    An arrow grazed his cheek, slicing off a strand of hair. Aegon froze in ce, fear gripping him as he saw the arrow hade from his brother Rhaegar.


    "Run, and you��ll regret it," Rhaegar''s cold voice echoed, sending a shiver down Aegon��s spine.


    ncing at the two battling dragons, Rhaegar discarded his longbow and advanced toward Aegon with a menacing calm. Aegon didn��t dare move, his fear paralyzing him.


    When Rhaegar reached him, he grabbed Aegon''s hair and mmed him to the ground with a thud.


    "You insolent brat, your arrogance has grown!"


    Ignoring Aegon''s cries, Rhaegar pinned him down, holding his head with one hand and raising the other to deliver a harsh p.


    St��


    A p jerked Aegon''s head to the side, and a red, swollen mark immediately appeared on his cheek.


    "Roar..."


    Meanwhile, Sunfyre, having been knocked away by Dreamfyre, became even more ferocious, roaring as he lunged forward again. Dreamfyre''s wings were pressed to the ground, its slender neck stretched out, dragonme ready to strike. The two dragons were poised for another sh.


    Rhaegar, momentarily distracted by the dragon''s roar, nced over, his expression indifferent.


    Just as Sunfyre pped his wings to pounce on Dreamfyre, a deafening roar echoed through the Dragonpit. A shadow, swift and lethal, emerged from the depths of a crypt, descending like a thunderbolt upon the two dragons.


    With a sharp, ck w, Cannibal mped down on Sunfyre''s neck, instantly ending the battle.


    "Roar..."


    The ferocious ck dragon, disturbed from its slumber, red at the golden dragon beneath its ws, a low, menacing growl emanating from its throat. Cannibal had been resting peacefully when themotion above had roused it. Sensing the call of its master, it had rushed to stop the chaos.


    Now, it was furious.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre, agitated at having its opponent taken away, roared at Cannibal, spreading its wings in a show of defiance. Cannibal lifted its head, its green eyes narrowing at Dreamfyre. A wave of overwhelming fury radiated from the ck dragon.


    Dreamfyre stiffened, its anger dissipating. It lowered its head and backed away, recognizing the vast difference in strength between itself and Cannibal. Dreamfyre had been confined in the Dragonpit for decades, its growth stunted,parable to the third generation of dragons.


    Cannibal, a second-generation dragon, has thrived in the wild, and it consumed the Life Essence to increase it''s potential. Over the years, it has grown immensely in size and power.


    Vermithor, onceparable in size, now seemed smaller than Cannibal. On their recent return to Dragonstone Ind, Cannibal had grown to be one-fifthrger than Vermithor.


    Dreamfyre, standing in front of Cannibal, appeared minuscule, its entire body enveloped by the ck dragon��s massive frame. It was only two-thirds of Cannibal''s size, while Sunfyre, pinned under Cannibal''s ws, looked utterly insignificant��a mouse before a cat.


    "Send Dreamfyre and Tessarion back to the crypt!" Rhaegarmanded the Dragonkeepers, who were still frozen in shock.


    "Yes, Prince..." The Dragonkeepers hurried forward to calm and guide the two dragons back to their enclosures.


    With the trouble resolved, Rhaegar turned his gaze back to Aegon, his expression softening into a kind smile. "Aegon, do you realize your mistake?"


    "Yes, I know I''m wrong," Aegon stammered, covering his red, swollen cheek.


    "Oh? And what exactly did you do wrong?"


    "I... shouldn''t have ordered Sunfyre to cause trouble..."


    St��


    Rhaegar backhanded Aegon again. "Nope, rephrase!"


    "I shouldn''t have run. I shouldn''t have mocked Aemond. I apologize..."


    Receiving another p, Aegon��s head reeled, and he hastily admitted his faults.


    p��


    Another blownded, splitting Aegon''s lip and drawing blood. Rhaegar stood, gripping Aegon''s hair, lifting him to his feet. His voice, a cold whisper in Aegon''s ear, sounded almost demonic. "No, go on!"


    "I don��t know, I really don��t know. If you say I''m wrong, then I''m wrong..."


    Rhaegar''s grip tightened as he pointed towards Cannibal. "You think you''re proud of your newfound mastery of dragons?"


    "What do you... what do you want to do?" Aegon stammered, his eyes darting to the struggling Sunfyre.


    "Don''t worry, my dragon will show you," Rhaegar replied calmly, yet ominously.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal, sensing its master''s intent, stomped down hard on Sunfyre, eliciting a mournful wail from the golden dragon.


    "Don''t! Sunfyre is just a dragon; he doesn��t know any better!" Aegon twisted in a futile attempt to escape.


    Bang!


    Rhaegar kneed Aegon in the back, forcing him to watch. "Watch and see what happens when you don��t recognize your mistakes."


    Cannibal roared, its pupils locked onto Sunfyre, a cruel grin spreading across its muzzle. Sunfyre was its prey, a delicacy. It had been a long time since Cannibal had tasted its own kind, and it was eager for a bite.


    The next moment, Cannibal''s w lifted, and it lowered its head, teeth sinking into Sunfyre''s neck.


    "No! It''s going to eat Sunfyre!" Aemond, watching from the sidelines, copsed in fear.

 Chapter 127: Legacy of the Dark Sister

    Chapter 127: Legacy of the Dark Sister


    "Be quiet, Aemond," Rhaegar said calmly. "You can stay and watch, or you can leave."


    Aemond stood frozen, his chest heaving as he watched Cannibal''s violent spectacle. The sight of a dragon devouring another dragon was beyond shocking.


    "Roar..."


    As Sunfyre''s head was engulfed by Cannibal''s jaws, the smaller dragon writhed in terror, letting out a pitiful scream. Cannibal''s eyes glinted with cruel amusement.


    Instead of finishing Sunfyre quickly, it savored the moment, slowly closing its jaws and swallowing Sunfyre inch by inch.


    Aegon stared in disbelief, paralyzed by the horror. As Sunfyre''s long neck disappeared into Cannibal''s maw, tears filled Aegon''s eyes, and he snapped back to reality.


    Desperately, he clutched Rhaegar''s tunic, pleading, "Brother! I was wrong, I truly know I was wrong. Please,mand Cannibal to let Sunfyre go, please..."


    Tears streamed down his face, his voice choking with anguish. Targaryens had varying degrees of attachment to their dragons, and Aegon had spent years bonding with Sunfyre.


    Rhaegar tilted his head, showing no mercy. If only you had thought of this earlier, he seemed to convey."Roar..."


    Sunfyre''s frantic pping and cries filled the Dragonpit. Cannibal, annoyed, lifted its wings and used its front ws to shove Sunfyre further into its mouth, much like a child greedily stuffing snacks.


    "No!" Aegon screamed, copsing in despair. Paralyzed on the ground, he cried out, "Brother, tell me what I did wrong. I''ll change, I swear! Just let Sunfyre go!"


    Watching his dragon being devoured broke Aegon''s spirit. As a young boy, he couldn''t bear the tragedy unfolding before him.


    He wanted to admit his mistakes, beg for forgiveness, and plead for mercy from Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar looked down at his sobbing brother. His eyes, previously cold, softened slightly. He released Aegon''s hair, cupping his chin, and sighed, "My foolish brother, you should be d we share the same blood."


    Meanwhile, Cannibal continued to swallow Sunfyre, only the hind legs and tail remaining visible.


    "Cannibal!" Rhaegar called softly, patting Aegon''s head.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal paused, turning its head towards Rhaegar, still chewing on its "treat." Rhaegar smiled apologetically, meeting Cannibal''s gaze.


    A green dragon pattern emerged in Rhaegar''s eyes, mirrored in Cannibal''s pupils. Theymunicated silently, understanding each other perfectly.


    After a tense moment, Cannibal retracted its wings, reluctantly turned, and spat Sunfyre out. The golden dragon fell to the ground, covered in sticky saliva, twitching in distress.


    Rhaegar looked down at Aegon onest time. "Learn from this, Aegon. Next time, think before you act."


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal was unusually annoyed as its snack flew away. It flung its tail violently, sending the helpless Sunfyre flying far away. Cannibal had chosen toply with its master��s wishes.


    Seeing that Sunfyre was saved, Aegon turned his sadness into joy and said excitedly, "Thank you, brother."


    Rhaegar looked down at him calmly. "Aegon, you asked me where you went wrong. As your brother, I will remind you. Remember, no matter when, where, or in what capacity you and I meet, you must always show me the utmost respect."


    "Otherwise..."


    "I will, I will change," Aegon interrupted, eager to show his willingness.


    "It''s more than that," Rhaegar continued, shaking his head. "You are my brother, and it is my duty to teach and protect you. In return, you need to recognize your ce and show respect."


    "What I give you is yours. What I do not give, you cannot take," he added, pointing to the paralyzed Sunfyre. "The opportunity to learn this lesson onlyes once. Do you understand?"


    "Uh-huh," Aegon replied, overwhelmed by the oppressive atmosphere. He nodded vigorously, his smile more a grimace of fear than joy. The Seven Gods bear witness! He would never forget today''s painful lesson.


    "Good, it seems you understand," Rhaegar said, smiling. He beckoned to a few Dragonkeepers. "Return my younger siblings safely to the Red Keep."


    With the messy dispute over, he still had to appease Cannibal. The dragon would surely harbor some resentment for being denied its meal.


    "Let me help you up, Prince," a Dragonguard offered, assisting Aegon and the fallen Aemond.


    Hena had hidden behind a cluster of bonfires, watching the entire farce with endless emotions. Her mouth slightly open, she stared at Rhaegar��s back, deeply impressed.


    "Do dragons give people courage?" she wondered aloud. She didn''t know why her big brother was so majestic, but the image of himmanding the dragon was etched into her mind.


    "Princess, please follow me," a Dragonkeeper said, walking towards her.


    Hena covered her mouth, looking around in panic. Her eyes finallynded on the entrance to a crypt. She saw Dreamfyre, the dragon with light blue scales, walking inside.


    Dreamfyre wasn��t asrge as Cannibal, but it was bigger than Sunfyre and Tessarion. Hena''s innocent mind whirled with thoughts. She believed that if she could tame Dreamfyre, she could gain the same courage as her big brother.


    Rhaegar nced at the girl. Seeing her dazed and confused, he assumed she was scared and instructed the Dragonkeeper to take good care of her.


    ...


    Night fell on King''s Landing.


    In the sky above, a massive ck dragon circled slowly, several cows and sheep in its ws.


    In the saddle, Rhaegar closed his eyes tightly and tilted his head back to clear his mind.


    He had just returned from Dragonstone Ind, where Cannibal had spent a good half day indulging in some livestock.


    As time passed, the bond between Rhaegar and Cannibal grew stronger, thanks in part to the contributions of his good uncle, Daemon.


    Summoning the system interface, Rhaegar reviewed his past exploits.


    "Dark Sister Exploration Progress: 100%."


    "This exploration isplete. Please im the lost treasure."


    "Relic sessfully retrieved. Recognition in progress..."


    "Recognition sessful. Detected as an epic relic: Knight''s Glory."


    The prompt continued, "Please choose a knight."


    Without hesitation, Rhaegar selected Cannibal, binding them together as knight and dragon.


    "Congrattions, Knight''s Glory has been activated. You have gained..."


    Knight''s Oath


    Grade: Epic (Purple)


    Function: Unity of Mind


    Evaluation: "Under this oath, life and death follow."


    With the evening wind brushing against his face, Rhaegar slowly opened his eyes and drew the Dark Sister from his waist.


    The ancestral sword had brought him an invaluable relic.


    Cannibal became his guardian knight, bridging the gap between dragon and man with seamlessmunication through their shared thoughts.


    And Rhaegar enjoyed the special effects bestowed upon him by Cannibal.

 Chapter 128: Alicent’s Plea

    Chapter 128: Alicent��s Plea


    The Red Keep, under the veil of night.


    Inside the King''s Bedchamber.


    "Viserys, you know what happened today, don''t you?" Alicent murmured from thefort of her husband''s embrace, d in a delicatece nightgown.


    Her voice carried a husky tone, tinged with concern.


    Viserys, his senses lulled by the warmth of his wife''s presence, leaned back against the bed and closed his eyes in contentment.


    After a moment''s pause, he replied, "It''s not umon for siblings to have disagreements."


    He understood the incident she referred to all too well �C the confrontation between Rhaegar and Aegon in the Dragonpit.


    Sitting up, Alicent''s eyes glistened with tears as she confessed, "I''m not trying toin, but Aegon was hurt badly. The maester mentioned his teeth might be loose."


    Her heart ached at the thought of her son''s injuries.They were her children, her treasures, nurtured with love and care. How could she bear to see them harmed?


    "Alicent, perhaps you''re reading too much into it," Viserys reassured her, gently stroking her shoulder.


    "I looked into the matter at the Dragonpit. It was Aegon who instigated the trouble before Rhaegar intervened to teach him a lesson."


    Viserys opened his eyes, his hand tenderly cupping his wife''s cheek as he continued, "Rhaegar is still a protective older brother. He''s even arranged for two dragons to be set aside for Aemond and Hena."


    He spoke of Rhaegar''s thoughtful organization, ensuring the safety andfort of his younger siblings, a gesture that brought relief to his heart.


    "But I couldn''t help but worry," Alicent confided, her fingers intertwining with her husband''s as she spoke softly. "Aegon can be quite headstrong, and having to answer to Rhaegar... How will he manage?"


    Viserys furrowed his brow at her words, seeking rification. "What exactly do you mean by that?"


    He had anticipated aint from Alicent, but her tone seemed different, not usatory towards Rhaegar.


    "Aegoncks discipline and maturity. He needs someone to guide him," Alicent stated inly, her gaze fixed on her husband.


    Viserys chuckled in recognition. "Let me guess, you mean Otto, don''t you?"


    Alicent had long advocated Otto''s return to King''s Landing. However, Viserys had been reluctant, partly for personal reasons, partly because there was no suitable position for him.


    Alicent''s eyes gleamed with hope as she nodded. "My father served as Hand of the King, and Aegon is his grandson. He could provide the guidance Aegon needs."


    "You know, I have my reservations about Otto," Viserys replied cryptically.


    "Rhaegar may have disciplined Aegon today, but who''s to say it won''t happen again tomorrow... Where does it end?" he voiced his concerns.


    Alicent''s smile faltered, her plea growing more serious. "Rhaegar''s authority as heir is unquestioned, and my father would never speak ill of him to Aegon. Please, consider it."


    "Let me think on it," Viserys sighed, massaging his temples with a growing headache, shifting to a morefortable position on the bed.


    "Viserys, Aegon is your son too. They both deserve your love and attention," Alicent urged softly as she extinguished the bedsidemp, casting the room into darkness.


    Outside the door stood Arryk, d in shimmering armor and flowing white robes. As the sounds of mingled whispers emanated from within, he silently stepped away, leaving the couple to their privacy.


    ...


    The next morning, Rhaegar was summoned to his father''s chambers.


    Viserys, dressed in his pajamas, sat at the round table in the living area, enjoying his breakfast.


    When he saw his eldest son arrive, he gestured with his knife and fork and offered warmly, "You haven''t had your breakfast yet. Join me, son."


    Rhaegar nced at the closed bedroom door and smiled, "I''m famished."


    As they ate, Viserys broached the subject, "Yesterday, Tnd brought two pieces of news that concern you."


    "What news?" Rhaegar asked, sipping his milk.


    "Regarding the Stepstones Inds," Viserys began, his expression serious as he finished his meal and dabbed at his lips with a napkin, "Reports from our informants confirm that the pirates raiding our ships hail from the Three Daughters. They seem poised for war."


    "War is imminent," Rhaegar admitted, his brow furrowed in thought. "The Three Daughters, strengthened by Dornish support, will be formidable opponents."


    "And there''s more serious news," Viserys continued with a heavy sigh. "The Sea Snake has amassed a fleet of warships at Driftmark Ind, apparently preparing to engage the Three Daughters once more."


    "Corlys intends to instigate another war?" Rhaegar''s frown deepened.


    War was no trivial matter. The previous engagement at the Stepstones had been costly, albeit sessful, thanks to the coboration between the Sea Snake and Daemon.


    Their victory had driven out the pirates of the Three Daughters and curbed the Sea Snake''s influence. However, the return of the Three Daughters would be a far greater challenge this time.


    Moreover, in the previous conflict, Daemon had represented the royal family and wielded considerable influence over the Sea Snake''s actions.


    With another war looming, the royal family could not afford to remain passive. Failure to act would severely damage their reputation.


    Rhaegar inquired, "Father, are we considering an alliance with the Sea Snake?"


    The royal family had no navy of its own, so it had to rely on the resources of House Vryon.


    "Indeed," Viserys affirmed, a hint of resignation in his tone. "With the Three Daughters Kingdom''s impending threat, the expertise of the Sea Snake is indispensable."


    "So, what''s your proposal?" Rhaegar sensed his father''s underlying motive.


    Viserys revealed his intention, "Given the longstanding discord between House Vryon and House Targaryen, I wish for you to journey to Driftmark. Invite the Sea Snake to King''s Landing for diplomatic discussions regarding our foreign affairs."


    Emphasizing the need to meet any conditions the Sea Serpent might set, Viserys stressed, "It is of the utmost importance to foster friendly rtions between our houses."


    Rhaegar readily agreed and inquired, "When do we leave?"


    "In a few days, during your Aunt Rhaenys''s name-day celebrations," Viserys replied. "You may ride the dragons to the event, but be careful."


    "Understood. I''ll take care of it," Rhaegar assured, getting up to leave.


    As he closed the door behind him, Rhaegar''s expression turned somber, and he rubbed his face in thought.


    "Attending a feast on Driftmark..." The task ahead seemed daunting, especially considering theplex dynamics involved.


    Navigating the Sea Snake''s animosity towards his father, not to mention the ongoing tensions with Laena and Daemon, posed significant challenges.


    "This journey won''t be easy," Rhaegar mused, pacing the open-air corridor, lost in thought.


    "Prince," a voice interrupted his reverie.


    Turning, Rhaegar saw Larys sitting on a nearby bench, a friendly smile on his face.


    "Larys, what brings you here?" Rhaegar inquired, curious about the sudden appearance of the Hand''s son.


    With a respectful bow, Larys replied, "I have stumbled upon some information I think you should know."

 Chapter 129: Intelligence from Larys

    Chapter 129: Intelligence from Larys


    Larys wore a smile that seemed to hide a world ofplexities behind his eyes, giving him the air of an enigmatic genius out of favor.


    Taking Larys''s hand, Rhaegar smiled, "What news do you bring?"


    Having known the family since childhood, Rhaegar was well aware of Larys''s tendency to expose secrets.


    Larys took a few steps forward, scepter in hand, leaning on his crutch. "Shall we find a quieter ce for our discussion?"


    "Of course," Rhaegar agreed, intrigued by what Larys had discovered.


    Leading the way with deliberate steps, Larys led Rhaegar to the secluded attic, assuring him, "This ce sees little traffic, perfect for our conversation."


    As they entered, Larys waved away the dust with a theatrical flourish.


    Taking a seat near the balcony''s ss windows, Rhaegar cut to the chase, "Why the secrecy, Larys?"


    Knowing Larys'' disinterest in trivialities, Rhaegar anticipated an underlying motive.Larys sat down with a hint of difort and fidgeted in his chair before meeting Rhaegar''s gaze with a sarcastic smile.


    "Hmm..." Clearing his throat, Larys finally spoke, "Your Highness, I''ve gathered information from three sources. Which would you like to hear first?"


    "In what order?" Rhaegar inquired, leaning forward with interest.


    "From the Old Town, the Vale, and Driftmark," Larys revealed with a knowing grin.


    "Begin with the Old Town," Rhaegar prompted, intrigued by the unfolding revtions.


    Larys nodded, organizing his thoughts before delving into the revtions. "Former Hand of the King Otto Hightower, known for his ties to the Faith of the Seven, has been frequenting the Citadel, engaging in lengthy discussions with the High Septon."


    Rhaegar looked confused. "Why is that significant?"


    The Hightower family and the church of the Old Town had a long-standing connection, so it wasn''t surprising that they were interacting.


    Larys shook his head with a knowing smile. "About half a month ago, the Citadel dispatched a group of maesters to King''s Landing for service."


    "And in Flea Bottom''s orphanage, members of the congregation have been performing acts of charity, distributing congee to the needy," Larys continued.


    "Winning over hearts?" Rhaegar mused, connecting the dots.


    "You''ve hit the nail on the head. With your reform proposal, Otto is eager to consolidate his power. Queen Alicent has also been lobbying the king privately," Larys confirmed.


    "Ah, theirmitment to the kingdom is trulymendable," Rhaegar chuckled, before turning his attention back to the matter at hand. "Now, tell me about the next piece of intelligence."


    "Are you not curious about Otto''s intentions?" Larys asked, a glint of mischief in his eyes.


    "No need. I''ve never paid much attention to the so-called Green Faction," Rhaegar replied confidently.


    Alicent''s green dress stood out conspicuously at the heir exchange ceremony.


    With the backing of Oldtown and a few minor nobles and marginalized knights, it was created the Green faction, like Alicent''s dress that night.


    Alicent''s affiliation with the green faction as a Queen was merely a superficialbel, Rhaegar believed.


    The true divisiony between the supporters of Rhaenyra and himself, known as the cks, and those aligned with Alicent,beled the Greens.


    Rhaegar dismissed the notion of such factionalism, seeing it as trivialpared to the greater challenges facing the kingdom.


    But if she entertained any other notions, the kingdom would remain devoid of any green influence.


    King''s Landing would never be Green.


    "Your broad-mindedness is truly admirable," Larys remarked, visibly impressed by Rhaegar''s confidence.


    Shifting to the intelligence from the Vale, Larys revealed, "Lady Royce of Runestone is set to marry her cousin and consummate the marriage next month."


    "Rhea Royce?" Rhaegar eximed, surprised by the news.


    Larys nodded, "Yes, Prince Daemon''s ex-wife."


    Rhaegar paid little mind to the affairs of his former aunt but it seems only fitting for Rhea to remarry, especially considering Daemon''s offspring with Laena.


    "But our focus isn''t on Runestone City," Larys continued


    Larys continued, "About six months ago, a heated dispute erupted between the Lady of the Eyrie, Jeyne, and her cousin Arnold Arryn."


    "The argument started when Arnold questioned Lady Jeyne''s right to female session, iming women were unfit to lead the Vale," Larys exined.


    "And the oue?" Rhaegar inquired.


    Larys smiled, "The argument ended badly, with Arnold leaving the Eyrie without a trace."


    "It''s interesting to note that shortly after Arnold''s disappearance, the mountain ns of the valley became increasingly aggressive, often raiding the viges below," Larys added.


    "Are you suggesting Arnold''s collusion with the mountain ns to spark rebellion?" Rhaegar spected, furrowing his brow.


    "It''s a possibility, especially considering Arnold''s sudden disappearance," Larys replied nomittally, relishing the challenge of piecing together the puzzle.


    "And the final piece of intelligence?" Rhaegar prompted, eager for news closer to Driftmark.


    Larys straightened up, adopting a serious demeanor. "ording to reliable sources, the Sea Snake''s daughter, Lady Laena, returned to Driftmark under cover of night. Lord Corlys himself celebrated the homing with a grand reception for his granddaughters."


    Rhaegar''s expression darkened at the revtion. Just days ago, Rhaenyra had mentioned Laena''s plea for assistance to return home. Now, it seemed she had made the journey ndestinely, disregarding any consequences for the royal family.


    Taking a deep breath topose himself, Rhaegar spoke icily, "Where is Daemon? Did he apany his wife and daughter back to Driftmark?"


    "I can''t say for sure. The scouts only saw Lady Rhaenyra and the two infants," Larys admitted, though he made a guess, "Prince Daemon probably stayed behind, since he''s not from the Vryon House."


    "However, I presume you are aware of the developments regarding the Three Daughters," Larys continued, his tone taking on a calcting edge. "With war on the horizon, the Sea Snake''s cooperation with the crown seems inevitable."


    "So, if he asks to have the warrant against his daughter and son-inw lifted, I wonder if the King would agree?" Larys asked, looking at Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar exchanged a knowing nce with Larys, acknowledging the likelihood of such a scenario.


    As Rhaegar rose to depart, Larys met his gaze with a subtle smile, a testament to his dedication and pursuit of excellence.


    Confident that his gesture of cooperation would yield favorable oues, Larys watched Rhaegar.


    "Thank you for the intelligence, Lord Larys," Rhaegar murmured as he prepared to exit.


    As the loft door closed behind Rhaegar, Larys''s smile faded, his expression briefly vacant but he quickly regained hisposure, reflecting on Rhaegar''s demeanor.


    With a small smile, Larys thought to himself, "What a proud Targaryen!"


    ...


    As night descended, Rhaegar luxuriated in a soothing bath before reclining naked on his bed.


    Having parted ways with Larys, he took a leisurely stroll through the streets of King''s Landing. Unsurprisingly, he noted an increased presence of followers of the Faith of the Seven in the poorer districts.


    "Alicent, Otto, the Sea Snake..."


    Rhaegar softly uttered the names that seemed to perpetually trouble him, allowing his mind to gradually empty of thoughts.


    As the heir to the throne, he bore a weighty responsibility. While Rhaenyra faced limitations due to her gender, he, as a male and the firstborn byw, enjoyed the favor of the realm''s nobility. Yet, the shadows still harbored those with ambitions, ever ready to y their ndestine games.

 Chapter 130: King’s Landing Darkness

    Chapter 130: King��s Landing Darkness


    A soft knock at the door interrupted Rhaegar''s thoughts.


    "Who is it?" he called out, frowning at thete-night disturbance.


    "It''s me, your sister," came Rhaenyra''s voice from the other side.


    "Rhaenyra?" he repeated, slightly stunned. Climbing out of bed, he said, "Come in."


    The door creaked open, and Rhaenyra entered, carrying a dinner tray.


    "Rhaenyra, what are you doing here?" Rhaegar asked, confused.


    "I heard you''ve taken on a big mission and wanted to check on you," she replied, walking over to the bed and sitting down. She ced the dinner tray on a nearby table, revealing a ss of milk.


    "I brought you some milk to help you sleep," Rhaenyra said with a yful smile.


    "Thanks," Rhaegar replied, taking the ss and sipping the milk. Suddenly, he noticed her attire��a formal dress in an unusual shade of green, rather than her usual ck or red."Why does that dress look familiar?" Rhaegar asked casually.


    Rhaenyra giggled and tugged at the hem of her skirt. "You finally noticed. Last time, you were talking in your sleep, mumbling about your stepmother''s dress, so I borrowed one from Alicent."


    Rhaegar choked, spewing milk as he tried to catch his breath. "What?"


    Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and patted his back. "Why are you reacting like that? I''ve been debating for days whether to wear this dress."


    Rhaegar''s face flushed red. "It was just a dream. It had nothing to do with Alicent."


    He felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. His dreams were often a jumble of images, and any resemnce to reality was purely coincidental.


    "Rhaenyra, you really should return Alicent''s dress," Rhaegar said, feeling a twinge of guilt.


    "What? You don''t think it looks good?" Rhaenyra stood up excitedly and spun around to show off.


    Rhaegar averted his eyes and covered his face with his hand. "You and Alicent have different figures. She''s... slimmer than you."


    Despite having four kids, Alicent still had the slim figure of a teenager, which had helped her keep Viserys interested for years. By contrast, both Rhaegar and Rhaenyra inherited their mother''s sturdier, more robust build.


    Rhaenyra''s attempt to fit into Alicent''s green dress had the waist straining and the fabric barely containing her form, which looked a bit off. It was no surprise that Rhaegar had noticed right away.


    "Rhaegar, do you dare say that again?" Rhaenyra''s mood shifted abruptly, her eyes narrowing at her brother.


    Rhaegar hesitated, sensing danger. "What I meant was that the dress doesn''t fit you properly. It''s not your size."


    "How dare you!" Rhaenyra took his words to mean that he thought she was overweight, which made her feel insulted.


    She''d put a lot of effort into wearing the dress, and instead of apliment, she felt like she was being insulted. She felt a surge of anger.


    Her chest was heaving with indignation, and the dress seemed to be strained to its limits. Before Rhaegar could exin further, Rhaenyra lunged at him, reaching for his neck.


    Despite her intensity, she was no match for Rhaegar in a physical confrontation. Laughing, he caught her around the waist, thinking it was just another one of their yful scuffles. As a child, Rhaenyra often tried to show her dominance by roughing him up a bit.


    Rhaenyra pinched and scratched with all her might, but to no avail. "Rhaegar, if you dare talk nonsense again, I''ll pull out your tongue!"


    "Hehe, you said it," Rhaegar teased, still not grasping the seriousness of her anger. He opened his mouth wide in a provocative gesture.


    "O!" Rhaenyra''s rage reached its peak, and she bit him on the shoulder.


    "Rhaenyra, it hurts! Let go!" Rhaegar cried out, pain ring up.


    "Nice try, you brat. You just don''t want to be disciplined," Rhaenyra muttered through gritted teeth, maintaining her bite and attempting to wrestle him into submission.


    Rhaegar, wincing from the pain, suddenly rolled over, pinning her beneath him. Rhaenyra still clung to his shoulder, her eyes zing with anger.


    Outside the window, the moon was shining brightly, bathing the bedroom in its light. The evening breeze rustled through the garden, making the leaves whisper.


    Rhaegar looked down at Rhaenyra, who had just bitten him, and paused for a moment. Eventually, Rhaenyra''s mouth, which was stained with blood, slowly released its grip.


    "Ouch, that hurts!" Rhaegar let out a cry and quickly pulled away, covering his bleeding shoulder.


    Rhaenyra, who was now lying on the bed, said in a sullen tone, "I''ll go with you to Driftmark."


    "Who told you that?" Rhaegar leaned back on the bed, wiping the drool off his shoulder, and looked at her in surprise.


    "Is there any secret in King''s Landing that stays hidden, except for your Dragonpit?" Rhaenyra''s words carried a hint of mockery.


    Rhaegar nodded, not bothering to refute. As the political center of the continent, King''s Landing was constantly under scrutiny.


    "I can go to Driftmark by myself. The Sea Snake wouldn''t dare to make a move," Rhaegar said confidently. "Besides, I''m going to celebrate the naming day, and Aunt Rhaenys will be there."


    "And what about Laena and Daemon?" Rhaenyra lifted her head, her face serious.


    Rhaegar froze, not expecting her to know about that.


    "Unfortunately, you''ve been the heir for many years, but you''re still too self-righteous," Rhaenyra sighed, her tone helpless.


    Under Rhaegar''s puzzled gaze, she kicked off her boots,y back on the bed, and cuddled him in her arms. Rhaegar put his head on her shoulder and felt his frustration melt away.


    "Rhaegar, I was also chosen by our father to be his heir," she began. "But because I��m not a man, the bannermen who swore allegiance to me despised me and spoke against me."


    "King''s Landing is the world''s biggest sewer, full of snakes, rats, and ants," she continued. "Every preference, every decision you make, bes a target for these bedbugs."


    Rhaenyra kissed Rhaegar''s forehead and admonished, "Don��t trust anyone. They only covet your flesh and blood, and mine."


    Her warning was genuine; she wanted her brother to be more cautious, to avoid being used as a pawn.


    Rhaegar gently cupped her slender waist, rubbing his cheek against hers, and said emotionally, "I understand, I know everything."


    "You don��t understand," Rhaenyra replied, pressing her hand harder on his. "I know firsthand what it��s like to be isted, while you��ve been living in the sunshine."


    Rhaenyra looked him in the eye as she continued, "You don''t have any roots in the small council, and Father''s ears have always been pretty easy to bend."

 Chapter 131: On The Way To Driftmark

    Chapter 131: On The Way To Driftmark


    "Sister, you don''t have to worry about me," Rhaegar said, feeling warmth and a sense of ease from her words.


    "Nonsense," Rhaenyra shot back. "You are my younger brother. If I don��t worry about you, who will? Alicent?" She grabbed his ear and fiercely added, "I said all this for a reason, so remember it!"


    "Of course, I won��t forget," Rhaegar replied. The warmth and softness of their shared moment brought back memories, and he began to feel a hazy sleepiness overtaking him.


    As he drifted off, a smile formed on his lips, and he murmured, "Sister, you and I are born of fire and blood. We have nothing to fear from treachery..."


    ...


    The night deepened over the Red Keep.


    In another room, the candlelight was pushing back the darkness. A delicious meal wasid out on the round table, and two people were seated across from each other.


    "Your Grace, the Prince is too cautious, and I''m sorry I couldn''t be of more help," Larys said, pausing with his knife and fork mid-motion and looking down.


    Alicent sat across from him, her face expressionless, her eyes cold. She sipped sweet wine from her goblet and replied tly, "It doesn��t matter. As long as he stays away from King��s Landing long enough for my father to return."Larys nced at her and smiled slightly. "With all due respect, Prince Rhaegar is the rightful heir. Even your father��s ingenuity can��t sway the King��s decision."


    "Rhaenyra was his appointed heir as well, and she was still pulled down," Alicent countered, her tone steely. "Our goal isn��t the throne but to unite all the allies we can and ensure we can defend ourselves."


    As she''d told Viserys, Rhaegar was set to be heir, and there was nothing she could do to change that.


    It was a source of her nightmares and fears. Rhaegar didn''t want her as a stepmother and was mean to his half-brother, Aegon, undermining his confidence.


    What would happen to her and her children if Viserys died?


    She had considered showing weakness to ease rtions with Rhaegar, but she was tired of being subservient and at the mercy of others. As queen, she had borne several princes and princesses for the kingdom and deserved high honor. She refused to live under anyone��s thumb.


    "Then you should join forces with the Vryon House. They are quite influential," Larys suggested, his eyes darting. "Lady Laena has given birth to twin daughters, and your youngest son, Daeron, is four. We could propose a marriage alliance."


    "Impossible," Alicent replied sharply, frowning. "The Sea Snake is a shrewd politician. Weck sufficient leverage to sway him."


    "Uh..." Larys hesitated, then shrugged. "What��s our next move then, Your Grace?"


    His talentsy in gathering intelligence, not strategizing��unless The Queen was willing to consider more sinister tactics.


    "There is no next step," Alicent said, draining her goblet and covering her forehead. "Viserys promised my father a return to King��s Landing. Only then can we secure House Hightower��s aid."


    "The Three Daughters have shown signs of invading the Narrow Sea recently. "Maybe we can use that to our advantage," Larys added, revealing more hidden information with a sly smile.


    Outside the window, a lush canopy swayed in the wind, with a bird��s nest perched on top. A sparrow hopped between the branches, its beady eyes unblinking as it observed the room.


    In the Dragonpit, Tormund, dressed in coarse linen, sat by a window, his pupils eerily vanished, leaving only the whites of his eyes. After a while, he blinked, and his pupils reappeared.


    He looked puzzled butmitted what he had seen and heard to memory. "There are traces of the Three Daughters in the Narrow Sea..." he muttered to himself.


    Rhaenyra was right. There were no secrets in the big city of King��s Landing, except for those within the Dragonpit, which was under Rhaegar��s jurisdiction.


    ...


    Seven dayster,


    A loud, deep dragon roar echoed over King��s Landing, drawing the attention of onlookers.


    Before long, three shadows crossed the city''s skyline, heading towards the harbor. The busy townsfolk looked up to see three massive dragons soaring between the clouds, their wings outstretched.


    "Dragons, three of them!" they marveled.


    The people of King��s Landing were used to seeing dragons��after all, the king had three dragon-riding children��but it was rare to see more than one dragon at a time. Sometimes Prince Rhaegar and Princess Rhaenyra would ride together, but it was pretty unusual to see three dragons at once.


    This extraordinary event was due to Rhaenyra''s insistent request. Her father, King Viserys, unable to refuse her, agreed for her to apany Rhaegar to Driftmark. Encouraged by Alicent, Viserys decided that if one dragon-rider was good, then two were even better.


    On a whim, he pulled a sleeping Aegon from his bed,manding him to join Rhaegar for the journey. This disy was meant to showcase the royal family''s power and their dragons'' might.


    It wasn''t just the three siblings making the journey; Lord Lyonel Strong, the Hand of the King, had already arrived at Driftmark a day earlier, bringing a shipden with gifts.


    ...


    The sky was a beautiful blue.


    Leading the way, Rhaegar rode his dragon Cannibal, its broad ck wings slicing through the white clouds like a dark meteor.


    Behind him, two golden dragons followed closely. Rhaenyra, riding Syrax, wore a joyful expression, asionally letting out cheers. Aegon, on Sunfyre, trailed far behind, his face a picture of dejection, punctuated by long sighs.


    He had resigned himself to his fate. All he wanted was to stay hidden in the Red Keep, flirting with the maids and enjoying the privileges of a prince.


    But his father had suddenly assigned him a mission, one that required him to apany his elder brother to the Vryon House�� who weren''t on good terms with them. He wasn''t exactly thrilled about it.


    Not only was Aegon reluctant, but Sunfyre also seemed equally resistant. The dragon''s eyes were fixed on Cannibal ahead, and his usually agile wings were moving stiffly, as if he was afraid that therger dragon might suddenly turn and devour him.


    However, their concerns were unfounded. No one paid them any mind.


    Rhaegar stood firmly on the saddle''s footrests, arms outstretched, relishing the cool moisture from the crashing clouds. He nced back at Syrax, who was struggling to keep up, andughed heartily, proud of Cannibal��s speed.


    "Rhaenyra, you''re too slow!" he called out, his voice filled with yful pride.


    Rhaenyra, chained at the waist and only able to sit upright in her saddle, looked sideways at her brother, shouting, "Slow down, you''re losing Aegon."


    Aegon, far behind, could only sigh.


    Rhaegar, reminded of his younger brother, signaled Cannibal to reduce speed, ensuring they didn''t leave Aegon and Sunfyre too far behind. Soon, Rhaenyra caught up, and Syrax began flying alongside Cannibal.


    She loved riding dragons and loved her brother Rhaegar, but she especially loved flying with him, feeling the exhrating freedom of the skies. Rhaenyra smiled and yed along, enjoying the ride.


    Though it was just a formal trip, she was happy to be there.


    The three dragons flew swiftly, crossing ckwater Bay, and arrived at Driftmark just before afternoon.

 Chapter 132: Vhagar

    Chapter 132: Vhagar


    Noon.


    After a long flight, the dragons finally reached Driftmark. This ind was geographically closer to King''s Landing than Dragonstone and had a strategic advantage over Dragonstone in controlling the Narrow Sea.


    Driftmark had three main settlements: There were three main settlements: High Tide, Hull, and Spicetown. As they flew over the ind, Rhaegar, Rhaenyra, and Aegon took in the sights below.


    The westernmost part of the ind had a castle perched on a craggy cliff, which made it easy to defend. The other two towns were located near the narrow sea and were quite busy.


    Rhaegar noticed the many ships docked at the ports of these towns, a testament to their prosperity.


    ��Let''s go, we shouldnd at High Tide.��


    The dragons flew around in the sky, their riders getting a better understanding of the ind''syout before theynded. As they got closer to High Tide, they heard a loud dragon roar from below, which caught their attention.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal, sensing a potential threat, let out a warning growl, its green eyes alert. Rhaegar quickly scanned the area and identified the source of the roar as a clearing next to the beach, surrounded by grassy fields.There, a massive green dragony prostrate, its amber eyes fixed on the sky. Rhaegar''s heart raced as he recognized the dragon: Vhagar, thest surviving dragon from the Targaryen family''s early days.


    Born on Dragonstone in 51 BC, Vhagar was once ridden by Visenya Targaryen, sister and queen to Aegon the Conqueror. Later, Vhagar was imed by Rhaegar''s grandfather, Baelon Targaryen, the Prince of Spring.


    Most recently, Laena Vryon became Vhagar''s rider. Now, the dragon was 169 years old, a testament to its long and storied past.


    Rhaegar marveled at the sight, silently acknowledging the uracy of Larys'' intelligence. Laena had indeed returned to Driftmark in secret.


    "That''s Vhagar? It''s enormous!" Aegon eximed, eyes wide with shock.


    Rhaenyra shot him a look of contempt. "I told you to get out more. Staying cooped up all day is making you useless."


    "Roar!"


    Vhagar saw the three dragons above it and twisted its massive body, roaring again to assert dominance over the territory.


    "Rhaegar, let''s get out of here. We shouldn''t provoke this old dragon," Rhaenyra urged, her voice edged with urgency.


    Everyone knew Vhagar''s reputation for being bad-tempered. It was wiser to keep a safe distance.


    Rhaegar nodded. "Agreed. Let''s move away."


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal, Rhaegar''s dragon, growled lowly, a deep rumble emanating from its throat, clearly harboring hostility toward Vhagar. The green dragon was older andrger than Cannibal, and it left an impression.


    Cannibal''s charcoal-ck scales gave him a dark, intimidating look, like a dark god. In contrast, Vhagar''s skin was wrinkled and sagging, its jaw hung loose, and the crown of its horns had fallen off long ago.


    Despite this, Vhagar exuded an aura of power and experience.


    Vhagar''s body was covered in battle scars, with holes in its wing membranes from scorpion crossbows. Its cold, merciless eyes surveyed the neers, and it felt like an ancient war machineing back to life.


    Rhaegar could tell that Cannibal was eager for a confrontation, so he chuckled bitterly. "We''re not here to fight."


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but feel a mix of admiration and apprehension. Vhagar had fought for House Targaryen for over a century, and itsbat experience was unmatched by any other dragon.


    Although Cannibal had beaten Vermithor and Silverwing,Vhagar''s prowess was not to be underestimated.


    If a fight were to happen, Cannibal would need to wait until he reached his full strength, which could take over a hundred years.


    "Roar..."


    Heeding Rhaegar''s guidance, Cannibal reluctantly turned away, snorting in frustration but wisely choosing not to provoke the ancient dragon.


    ...


    Far from the beach, Rhaegar and his siblings rode their dragons towards High Tide.


    The three dragons flew around the city twice beforending, which was a clear signal to the locals that the Targaryen princes and princesses had arrived.


    With a resounding boom, Cannibal was the first tond, its massive body kicking up a gust of wind as it touched down in the open space near the tidal walls. Syrax and Sunfyre followed, but kept a respectful distance from Cannibal, wary of the ck dragon''s aggressive nature.


    "Wee, Prince and Princess," greeted a knightly dressed guard captain, stepping forward from a group of stationed guards.


    "Lead the way, Ser," Rhaegarmanded, assuming his role as the eldest and heir.


    "Follow me, Your Grace," the guard captain replied. With his silver hair, he appeared to be of Valyrian descent.


    Rhaenyra and Aegon joined Rhaegar, following the captain. High Tide Castle, perched on a high-altitude ind, required them to traverse a path of verdant stonesid over the tides.


    Although the dragons couldnd directly in front of the castle, such an act would be seen as disrespectful to its owner. They were here to celebrate, and proper decorum was necessary.


    After about ten minutes of walking up the cliffside path, the stone archway of High Tide Castle appeared before them.


    "This way, please, Prince and Princess," the guard captain said, leading them through the archway into a lush, open garden.


    The castle stood tall and proud, facing the stone archway.


    As they stepped through the door, they heard the sh swords. Rhaegar nced over to see two men engaged in a sword fight in the garden.


    One of them, with dark skin and silver hair, Rhaegar recognized him. It was Laenor Vryon, the eldest son of the Sea Snake, a cousin who had always been fond of him.


    As the group passed through the archway, Laenor saw them. He wiped the sweat from his brow and called for a truce, then approached with a warm smile.


    "Rhaegar, Rhaenyra, Aegon, wee to Driftmark," Laenor greeted them, sheathing his sword gracefully.


    "It''s been too long, cousin," Rhaegar replied with a warm smile, returning the gesture.


    At that moment, the castle gates swung open, revealing a man bearing a striking resemnce to the Sea Snake, apanied by a silver-haired, dark-skinned butler.


    Rhaenyra leaned in close to Rhaegar''s ear, whispering, "That''s Vaemond Vryon, the Sea Snake''s younger brother and Laenor''s uncle."


    Nodding in acknowledgment, Rhaegar focused his attention on Vaemond. With a dignified bearing and an air of arrogance, Vaemond approached and bowed respectfully.


    "Wee, Your Grace," Vaemond greeted formally.


    "Greetings, Ser Vaemond. Your reputation precedes you," Rhaegar replied with polite courtesy.


    Then, casting a curious nce toward the castle, he continued, "I expected Lord Corlys, the Sea Snake, to wee us. We''vee to celebrate Aunt Rhaenys''s nameday. Is he not joining us?"

 Chapter 133: The Sea Snake’s Difficulties

    Chapter 133: The Sea Snake��s Difficulties


    Rhaegar asked the question deliberately. The Sea Snake''s domain was merely an earldom, and given Rhaegar''s status as the heir, Rhaenyra''s title as Princess of Dragonstone, and Aegon��s position as the king''s second son, proper etiquette dictated that Corlys Vryon should have led his entire household to greet them as a sign of respect for the royal family. However, they were met only by Vaemond and a steward, a clear insult to the Targaryen siblings.


    Vaemond, unfazed by the prince��s inquiry, responded calmly, "My brother personally invited guests and, after a long journey, arrived home a bit earlier."


    "He has already rushed to the Driftwood Throne Hall to properly wee the prince and princess," he added.


    Rhaegar��s smile faded, and his expression grew cold as he nced at Laenor. His hand tightened around the hilt of the Dark Sister sword at his waist, and he addressed Vaemond with a measured tone, "Lord Vaemond, do you understand the proper etiquette for weing the heir to the throne?"


    "Of course, but my elder brother has just returned from a voyage and hasn��t had time to change his clothes. He didn''t want to offend you with his appearance," Vaemond replied smoothly, clearly having prepared his excuse.


    "Oh, you make a valid point," Rhaegar said, his toneced with sarcasm, his gaze hardening. The Sea Snake was clearly trying to make a statement.


    Sensing Rhaegar��s displeasure, Laenor quickly interjected, "Father has just returned from w Isle and meant no disrespect."


    "No! I feel no respect from Lord Corlys or the Vryon House," Rhaegar countered, shaking his head.


    He stared directly at Vaemond andmanded, "Fetch Lord Corlys and have him personally greet the royal guests he has sworn allegiance to."Vaemond attempted another excuse, but Rhaenyra, her temper ring, cut him off, "Enough, Lord Vaemond. Your excuses are increasingly inappropriate."


    Having once been belittled by her own bannermen as the King��s heir, Rhaenyra would not tolerate any slight against her brother. The atmosphere turned icy.


    Laenor started to speak again, but the knight beside him discreetly pulled him back, signaling him to remain silent. Vaemond��s frown deepened as he muttered, "Prince, Lord Lyonel is also in the Driftwood Throne Hall, you should��"


    Swish��


    Before he could finish, the Dark Sister��s de shed, its sharp edge pressed against Vaemond��s neck.


    "Rhaegar��"


    Rhaenyra and Laenor eximed simultaneously, the tension in the air palpable.


    "Rhaegar, Uncle Vaemond didn''t mean any disrespect. What are you doing?" Laenor, as the heir of Driftmark, couldn''t remain silent and pleaded helplessly.


    Rhaenyra pressed down on Rhaegar''s sword arm, her expression tense. "Rhaegar, we are here for peace. Put away the sword."


    "Quiet, you should be convincing Ser Vaemond, not me." Rhaegar was unmoved, ignoring their pleas and maintaining his stance, his sword steady.


    At this moment, he knew the only thing he could do was to assert his authority. Compromise was not an option.


    "Prince, you shouldn''t be so impulsive." Vaemond��s voice trembled slightly, feeling the cold steel of the Dark Sister against his neck.


    Being threatened by a teenage prince with a sword was unnerving. Who knew if the young royal, in a moment of hot-blooded impulse, might actually decapitate him?


    Rhaegar''s expression remained cold and unyielding. "Summon Lord Corlys to meet us. Don''t make me repeat myself a third time!"


    This visit was indeed meant to strengthen ties with the Sea Snake, but as the kingdom''s heir, Rhaegar represented royal honor and could not tolerate humiliation.


    If the Sea Snake intended to challenge his authority, Rhaegar had only one response: No!


    The chill of the de seeping into his spine, Vaemond''s face paled. He hastily said, "Calm down. I''ll fetch my brother immediately."


    As a warrior who had seen battle, Vaemond knew when to avoid danger. The murderous glint in the prince''s eyes made it clear that continued defiance would end badly.


    Hearing this, Rhaegar''s icy expression softened into a chilling smile. "So be it, Ser Vaemond."


    He lowered the de of the Dark Sister and stroked its spine, his voice soft but firm. "You should hurry."


    Vaemond, humiliated and seething, managed to hide his anger behind a tanned face. He turned and walked back toward the castle.


    Rumor had it that the heir was known as the Kind Prince, a young man with a temperament simr to his father''s.


    Experiencing this firsthand, Vaemond silently cursed. Kindness? Nonsense. This prince was apletely different person.


    "Rhaegar, I truly apologize for the poor hospitality," Laenor said, his face reflecting his internal conflict. He understood his father''s intentions but couldn''t openly defy him.


    "No matter, just a few twists and turns," Rhaegar replied, sheathing his sword. He didn''t enjoy these power ys but knew they were unavoidable. The sharpness of his de had earned him the respect he needed.


    Momentster, the castle doors opened again, and this time, the dignified Sea Snake, Corlys Vryon, emerged instead of Vaemond.


    "Father," Laenor called, rushing forward, fearing a confrontation.


    Corlys waved his hand, his expression calm. He approached Rhaegar, bowed respectfully, and then smiled pleasantly. "Prince, I sincerely apologize for the earlier misunderstanding. It was due to my hasty return. High Tide wees your arrival. Please ept the Vryon House''s apology, regardless of the past."


    His words were carefully chosen to convey both an apology and a subtle assertion of his position.


    Rhaegar gave him a surprised look, thenughed. "I ept your apology, and it''s also my fault for arriving so suddenly."


    This was a polite facade. Lyonel had arrived at Driftmark a day early, and even with a raven, the Sea Snake should have known they wereing. It was a deliberate test of Rhaegar''s reaction.


    Rhaegar''s response had been clear and decisive. Whatever Corlys thought of it, he couldn''t afford to be slow in his response again.


    "Pleasee in. I''ll take you to the Driftwood Throne Hall, where both Rhaenys and Lyonel are waiting," Corlys said, his smile fading as he regained his dignified bearing.


    Rhaegar nodded and followed. He took a moment to nce at Aegon, who was slouching. "Straighten your back and show your royal demeanor. Don��t let outsiders look down on you," he chided.


    His words were a lesson for Aegon but also a message to everyone present. Corlys remained unfazed and continued leading the way. Aegon, though internally grumbling, straightened up out of fear of his elder brother.


    Rhaenyra, amused by the situation, took Rhaegar''s arm, sharing in the royal honor. Despite Rhaegar''s rough approach, it was effective, and she admired his boldness.


    They walked through the castle gates, up the corner stairs, and into the Driftwood Throne Hall. It was, in essence, a replica of a throne room: spacious, with stone walls adorned with the Vryon House crest of a seahorse and a series of wave paintings.

 Chapter 134: The Queen Who Never Was

    Chapter 134: The Queen Who Never Was


    The interior of the hall was decorated with exquisite crystal chandeliers and various exotic treasures. In the center, nked bymps on either side, stood a weathered wooden seat.


    Laenor took the opportunity to introduce it proudly, "This is our family''s Driftwood Throne, symbolizing the Lord of the Tides."


    Before Rhaegar could respond, the impatient Aegon interjected, "Oh, it''s just a pile of rotten wood, isn''t it?"


    Rhaenyra quickly red at him, signaling him to watch his words. "Aegon, don''t talk nonsense."


    Aegon nced at Rhaegar, whose expression remained unchanged, and seeing that he didn''t care, he crossed his arms and huffed. He wasn''t afraid of his sister, and if Rhaegar hadn''t rebuked him, why should he care?


    "Is the Driftwood Throne more legendary than the Iron Throne of the Red Keep?" he mocked.


    Laenor, maintaining hisposure, responded with grace, "It doesn''t matter. In addition to the Driftwood Throne, the hall is filled with trophies from my father and ancestors, including the mask of the Crab Feeder."


    Rhaegar finally spoke up, "All right, Aegon, show some respect." It was a soft reprimand, but enough to signal the end of the episode.


    The truth was, Rhaegar didn''t care much for the Driftwood Throne or the Vryon family''s airs. It was a calcted move to allow Aegon to express disdain openly, gauging Laenor''s reaction and pushing boundaries.Out of the corner of his eye, Rhaegar noticed Laenor''s face darkening, and he couldn''t help but smirk slightly.


    His Father was right, it was useful to bring this stupid little brother along.


    "Prince!"


    A familiar voice echoed as Rhaegar entered the center of the Driftwood Throne Hall. He turned to see Lyonel rising from the wine closet, his eyes somewhat agitated.


    Lyonel''s pace was brisk, and his usually stout frame seemed energized. He reached Rhaegar quickly, without pausing to catch his breath.


    Rhaegar nced at the Sea Snake, who appeared unperturbed, and asked, "Lord Lyonel, what''s the matter?"


    "Prince, Lord Corlys ced me in the Driftwood Throne Hall, forgive me for not to being able to greet you in person," Lyonel replied, his tone carrying a thinly veiled anger. He shot a re at the Sea Snake''s back, making it clear that Corlys had intentionally slighted him.


    Understanding the situation, Rhaegar embraced the trembling Lyonel and patted him on the back. "You have been wronged, my lord."


    There was no point in retaliating openly. Rhaegar had already asserted his dignity and power. He could only offer Lyonelfort for the slight he had suffered.


    "As long as you remain unharmed, my own troubles are insignificant," Lyonel said, regaining hisposure. He understood the political maneuvering at y and had anticipated such treatment from the moment Vaemond had staged Corlys''s appearance.


    "You are a loyal Hand of the King, and the kingdom is fortunate to have you," Rhaegar said, releasing Lyonel and offering sincere praise.


    Laenor stepped forward, changing the subject. "Wait a moment, cousin. Mother will be here soon." He began introducing the antiquities of the hall.


    Rhaegar cooperated, casting a few appreciative nces around the hall as they awaited Rhaenys''s arrival.


    Meanwhile, the Sea Snake seemed detached, lost in his own world. He remained silent, walking to the Driftwood Throne and gazing at the half-broken mask with a blissful expression.


    He had anticipated a meeting with the king, a negotiation of sorts. Instead, he was faced with the children of the king, the Hand of the King, and the the heir of the throne.


    "Heh, with the change of heir, our majesty has be more assertive," he mused with a smile, deciphering the king''s attitude.


    But Corlys Vryon didn''t care. He was the greatest navigator Westeros had ever seen, having crossed the ocean nine times. He was responsible for the vast wealth of the Vryon House.


    His wife, Rhaenys Targaryen, is known as the Queen Who Never Was.


    Their family owned three dragons, including the mighty Vhagar, such formidable power allowed him to stand proudly on the continent.


    Bang...


    Not long after, a side door in the hall opened and a figure stormed in with an air of urgency.


    "Children, I''mte."


    Rhaenys entered, dressed simply, a joyful smile on her face.


    "Aunt."


    Rhaegar and Rhaenys met each other��s gaze and smiled warmly before embracing.


    "Good boy, you''ve grown so much, stronger than your father even."


    Rhaenys pinched Rhaegar''s sturdy arm, her bright eyes reflecting her pride. As a princess of the Targaryen dynasty, she had been estranged from her family due to tensions between her husband��s family and her own. This reunion was a rare and precious moment for her.


    "Aunt..."


    Rhaenyra stepped forward, greeting her with a smile.


    Rhaenys immediately let go of her nephew to embrace her niece. Surveying her, sheplimented, "You look wonderful, and you''ve grown into a beautiful young woman. Life has been kind to you."


    "And you look as beautiful as ever, Aunt."


    Rhaenyra knew exactly how to please her aunt, and her lovely smile reflected her genuine admiration. She had always looked up to her aunt and cherished their bond.


    After Rhaegar and Rhaenyra��s greetings, Aegon finally approached, albeit a bit reluctantly and formally.


    "And a fined you are. You''ll be your brother''s greatest ally."


    Rhaenys embraced Aegon as well, her words wise and affectionate. Aegon, though feeling awkward, managed a shy smile.


    "Well, Rhaenys, we must properly entertain our guests from afar."


    The Sea Snake turned, a smile ying on his lips as he observed his wife''s joyous reunion with her family.


    Rhaenys chuckled, "Indeed, it''s good that you won''t be kicking us out while discussing grand ns."


    She exchanged a knowing look with Rhaenyra, who walked over to the liquor cab and retrieved a bottle of wine.


    Rhaenyra patted her brother''s shoulder and followed her aunt, preparing to pour the wine.


    After all, they were failures in politics and important matters were best left to the men appointed to do so.


    Laenor, reading the room, pulled Aegon aside, clearing the floor for the uing discussion between the Sea Snake, Lyonel, and Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar and Lyonel exchanged nces before Rhaegar began, "Lord Corlys, my father has heard that the Triarchy is showing signs of resurgence. I assume you��ve heard the same."


    "I won��t lie, Prince. The pirates of the Triarchy have indeed reemerged, and my family''s ships have already been plundered."


    Corlys spoke candidly, initiating the conversation.


    He went on, "The Triarchy has been pretty much inactive for years. With their previous defeat still fresh in their minds, they won''t back down this time."


    "You''re right, my lord."


    Rhaegar, recalling his father''s instructions, said earnestly, "In the face of this renewed threat, the kingdom must respond decisively."


    "I am here not only to celebrate Aunt Rhaenys''s birthday but also to invite you to King''s Landing for a crucial discussion."

 Chapter 135: Laena and the Twins

    Chapter 135: Laena and the Twins


    The Vryon House boasts the most powerful fleet and admirals in Westeros. To defeat the Triarchy, the full support of the Sea Snake is indispensable.


    Rhaegar looked intently at Corlys, waiting for his reply.


    "It is the duty of a servant to serve his kingdom, and I am honored to do so," Corlys responded without hesitation, cing a hand over his chest solemnly.


    He continued, "My family has been greatly affected by the Triarchy''s capture of the Stepstones. Your arrival here is a great relief to me."


    His words were sincere, without arrogance.


    Rhaegar was slightly taken aback by Corlys''s willingness. Upon reflection, he realized that although the Stepstones were barren, they upied a crucial geographic position.


    If the Triarchy controlled the Stepstones, the entire shipping route would be vulnerable to their raids, causing significant harm to the Vryon House, whose livelihood depended on maritime trade.


    Corlys''s eptance demonstrated his foresight and pragmatic approach.


    The exchange went smoothly. Lyonel, looking pleased, added, "Lord Corlys, I hope that after Princess Rhaenys''s banquet, you can return to King''s Landing with me."His mission was to secure Corlys''s support in the capital for strategic military discussions. With Corlys''s agreement, Lyonel felt a weight lifted from his shoulders.


    "Of course, I haven''t seen His Grace in a long time, and I miss him," Corlysmented.


    He was a shrewd politician, aware that no matter how powerful his House was, they couldn''t thrive in istion. Aligning with the royal family was essential for maximizing their benefits.


    "It seems you''ve had a productive discussion," Rhaenys approached with a tray, smiling warmly.


    Seeing his wife''s smile, Corlys mirrored her expression and said proudly, "Conversations among smart people are always easy and pleasant."


    "You are right; Viserys has chosen a worthy heir," Rhaenys kissed her husband''s cheek and whispered in his ear, "Keep in mind that the Targaryens have no shortage of both geniuses and madmen."


    "Just a little test," Corlys replied softly, taking a ss from the tray and toasting Rhaegar.


    He preferred personal encounters over relying on rumors to judge a person''s worth. The new heir��s hardline stance made the uing battle for the Stepstones seem more manageable.


    "Would you like a taste? It''s the red wine of Dorne," Rhaenys asked, pushing past her ambitious husband to hand the tray to Rhaegar.


    "Thank you, Aunt," Rhaegar said, hesitantly reaching for the fragrant drink.


    "Drink this, Rhaegar," Rhaenyra called from behind, carrying a ss of some beverage.


    Rhaegar smiled apologetically at Rhaenys and withdrew his hand, taking the ss from Rhaenyra instead.


    "Rhaegar is a lightweight," Rhaenyra teased, taking his arm. "One ss of wine and he''ll miss the dinner."


    "Rhaenyra," Rhaegar protested, trying to stop her from revealing too much. He didn''t despise alcohol to that extent, but he preferred not to drink.


    The scene drewughter from the others.


    Corlys downed his drink in a single gulp and, with the air of an old sailor,ughed heartily, "A man should know how to handle his drink, especially a Targaryen of blood and fire. Alcohol is the best fuel."


    "Yes, how can an heir who can''t drink entertain his advisers?" Rhaenys added, smiling warmly at her nephew.


    The others, not daring tough too loudly, took wine cups from the tray one by one and toasted Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar shook his head and smiled ruefully. Amid theughter, the tension in the room dissipated, and the two families seemed to be on good terms again.


    Rhaenys approached Rhaegar with a serious expression, "There is one matter I need to discuss with you."


    "What is it, Aunt?" Rhaegar asked, remaining vignt. Vhagar was still resting on Driftmark.


    Rhaenys sighed and spoke bluntly, "You��ve seen Vhagar. She��s the dragon of Laena."


    "Vhagar is thest of the great dragons from the previous generation of Targaryens. Of course, I recognize her," Rhaegar replied, his eyes narrowing slightly, emphasizing Vhagar''s rightful ce in Targaryen lineage. The dragon belonged to the Targaryens, not just anyone who could im to master her.


    "I understand your point, but I��m not here to argue about that," Rhaenys said, shaking her head. "Laena is my daughter. She carries the blood of both Targaryens and Vryons. She��s back on High Tide."


    "What do you mean?" Rhaegar asked, cautious about revealing his stance.


    "I��m not here to plead for Laena��s mistakes," Rhaenys continued resolutely. "But her daughters are of pure Targaryen blood. They should not suffer for their mother��s actions and deserve their legitimate rights as part of the Crown."


    "If you��re pleading for your granddaughters, I may be able to help," Rhaegar said, frowning slightly. "But Laena should make her own case for them."


    "She��s at the castle. I can call her��"


    "No need, I''m right here!" came a maic female voice, cutting Rhaenys off.


    The side door swung open, revealing a figure of delicate dark skinned beauty.


    "Laena!"


    Rhaenyra''s surprise was evident in her voice, her gaze reflecting a mix of emotions.


    Laena had been her closest childhoodpanion besides Alicent.


    After all these years, she had blossomed into a wife and mother.


    "Rhaenyra, it''s good to see you again."


    Laena''s features bore the strong lines of her mother, her silver curls cascading elegantly around her tall, voluminous body.


    "Sister, what brings you here?"


    Laenor hurried forward, a hint of nervousness evident in his demeanor.


    "Why the nervousness? We only have family in the room," Laena assured, her smile softening her words as she retrieved two swaddled bundles from the maid behind her.


    Observing this, Rhaenys sighed in resignation. "Well, since you''re here, you might as well exin it yourself."


    Rhaegar inclined his head, his gaze drifting to the swaddled forms in Laena''s arms.


    Noticing his interest, Laena approached, gracefully extending the bundles towards him. "Cousin, would you like to hold them?"


    After a brief pause, Rhaegar epted to hold the swaddled infants.


    Laena spoke tenderly, "Father named them; the elder sister is Ba, and the younger, Rhaena."


    As he held the swaddled bundle, Rhaegar''s posture stiffened slightly, his gaze resting upon the two tiny beings.


    To be honest, they weren''t particrly adorable.


    Their skin had a reddish hue, and their eyes remained tightly shut, their small bodies appearing frail and delicate.


    "Eeeya..."


    Apparently sensing his difort, the little girl named Ba squirmed in his arms, emitting a soft cry.

 Chapter 136: Daemon’s Reappearance

    Chapter 136: Daemon��s Reappearance


    "Eeeeee..."


    As the cool air touched her skin, Ba''s movements became more animated, her tiny mouth forming bubbles of excitement.


    "Quite amusing," Rhaegar remarked with a chuckle, unable to contain his amusement.


    Turning his gaze to Rhaenys, he offered a smile. "Consider it done, Aunt."


    "Thank you, Rhaegar," Laena expressed her gratitude with a warm smile.


    Rhaegar waved off her thanks, his expression somber. "There''s no need for thanks; the child is innocent."


    "Let me have a look too," Rhaenyra chimed in, joining Rhaegar''s side to inspect the infants.


    Rhaegar exchanged a meaningful nce with Rhaenyra, their unspoken agreement reaffirmed.


    They had already discussed their strategy and were bothmitted to it....


    Night had fallen.


    Rhaegar was lying on the bed in a sumptuous guest chamber at High Tide, idly thinking as he closed his eyes for a moment''s rest.


    "We need to get ready soon; we can''t bete for dinner downstairs," Rhaenyra said, carefully putting on her clothes at the dressing table.


    "I can get ready faster than you," Rhaegar said, his restlessness preventing him from moving as quickly as she wanted.


    His thoughts turned to the day''s discussions��the tentative alliance between the royal family and the Sea Snake.


    Not only did he agree to give the two babies their legal rights, but he also forgave the mother.


    It was a gesture of goodwill and favor from the crown towards the Vryon Hous, It is now the Sea Snake''s turn to reciprocate..


    Only one thing remained, both sides avoided mentioning Daemon, Laena''s husband, the father of the two babies, seemed to have been forgotten.


    Rhaegar had a feeling that Daemon''s involvement in their lives might soon change.


    "Come now, there''s much to discuss at dinner; we cannot dally," Rhaenyra interjected, interrupting his reverie and coaxing him out of bed with a gentle tug.


    "Fine, fine, I hear you," Rhaegar said, reluctantly getting up from his bed.


    "You''re not a child anymore; behave ordingly," Rhaenyra admonished yfully, delivering a light swat to his shoulder.


    "It''s still early," Rhaegar said, hugging her back. He didn''t want to let go of this moment.


    The weight of his responsibilities as heir weighed heavily on him, overshadowing his youthful spirit. Sometimes he wished he could be an explorer, not worrying about what others expected of him.


    "Rhaegar, I know it''s been tough for you, but you must remain resilient for both me and Father," Rhaenyra offeredfort, tenderly caressing his head.


    Rhaegar was only thirteen years old, but he was already bearing a weight far beyond his years.


    Every night when she woke up, she could hear Rhaegar''s struggles and it ached her heart.


    She often wondered if she would be able to withstand the pressure if the burden of the heirship were still on her shoulders.


    ...


    The castle hall exuded an air of grandeur and festivity.


    A long table took up most of the space in the center of the room, with the Sea Snake, Lyonel, and Aegon sitting around it, chatting away as they waited for the other guests to arrive.


    Rhaegar made his way down the stairs, Rhaenyra and Laena nking him. Each was holding a swaddled infant.


    "Come, join us for tonight''s feast; we''re indulging in a golden lobster��it''s quite the delicacy," Rhaenyssaid, her eyes sparkling with joy as she weed them to their seats.


    The day had been pretty good, all things considered. There had been a reconciliation of sorts between the Houses, the royal family had recognized Laena''s daughters, and Rhaenys''s uing nameday celebration was on everyone''s mind.


    As the guests settled into their seats and toasts were made by the Sea Snake and Rhaenys, the feast started.


    Rhaegar and Rhaenyra found themselves seated across from each other, right before Laena. They wereughing together and seemed to be enjoying each other''spany.


    Before them, each had a te of marinated lobster, a testament to the culinary skills of a House with a close connection to the sea. Rhaegar''s eyes lit up as he enjoyed the delicious vors.


    "Rhaenyra, you must try this plum cake��it''s divine," Laena offered, extending a slice to her childhood friend.


    Graciously epting the gesture, Rhaenyra''s taste buds were transported to the days of her youth as she relished the sweet vor of the cake.


    "Here, Rhaegar, have a taste," Rhaenyra said, yfully offering him a bite of the delicious dessert.


    As the evening wore on, the feast continued, withughter and conversation filling the hall with joy.


    Meanwhile, outside High Tide, the Cannibal was lying on the cliffs, blending into the shadows.


    But as the wind howled and dark clouds gathered ominously overhead, the creature''s eyes snapped open and it fixed its gaze on the approaching storm with intensity.


    ...


    The party kept going, with lots ofughter and good cheer in the hall.


    Laenor and Aegon were having a great time, drinking and singing and eventually dancing.


    Meanwhile, Corlys and Lyonel engaged in amiable conversation, exchanging drinks and sharing stories.


    Rhaegar was enjoying the show, amused by Laenor and Aegon''s antics and relishing the moments of closeness with Rhaenyra as she fed him.


    Despite the calm atmosphere, there was still a sense of unease.


    Out of nowhere, a loud bang reverberated through the hall as the door swung open, admitting an unexpected guest.


    The sudden gust of wind that apanied the neer''s entrance caught everyone''s attention.


    "Daemon?"


    Laena was the first to react. She looked at her husband standing in the doorway and her surprise was clear.


    As the others turned their attention to him, Daemon, dressed in his distinctive garb, greeted the assembly with a casual grin.


    "Hey there, Laena. Are you missing me already?"


    His nonchnt demeanor belied the gravity of his unexpected return.


    "Daemon, who invited you back? Have you forgotten our agreement?" Laena''sposure faltered, her urgency clear as she urged him to leave.


    Daemon, however, seemed unfazed by her concern, his gaze sweeping over the gathering.


    Before anyone could interject, Rhaegar''s hand mmed against the table, his expression darkening.


    "Rhaegar, calm yourself," Rhaenyra urged, her voice low as she attempted to defuse the tension.


    Undeterred, Daemon sauntered further into the hall, his tone mocking as he addressed his great-nephew.


    "Well, well, everyone''s here. Missed me, dear nephew?"


    Rhaegar''s icy re pierced through Rhaenyra''s attempts to restrain him, his voiceced with contempt.


    "Uncle, do you dare to show your face here?"


    With swift strides, Rhaegar rose from his seat, his demeanor rigid as he advanced towards Daemon.


    Unfazed, Daemon met his gaze with a sardonic smirk, his stance defiant.


    "What, only my wife is wee home? Can''t Ie back for a visit?"

 Chapter 137: Custody of Children

    Chapter 137: Custody of Children


    "You''re a sinner who doesn''t deserve the light of day," Rhaegar''s voice cut through the tension, his grip tightening on the hilt of the Dark Sisters'' sword. "Uncle,st time we met, you left your own sword behind. What will you leave this time?"


    "Tsk tsk, you''re not as charming as you used to be,"Daemon replied, disappointment in his voice as he shook his head. His eyes were cold and determined, and he was still haunted by memories of a rainy night seven years ago.


    Were it not for Laena''s timely rescue, he and Caraxes would have been buried at sea.


    The sh was inevitable. With a resounding bang, Rhaegar and Daemon collided, their gazes locked in a fierce struggle. Daemon, towering over Rhaegar, exerted his strength, forcing Rhaegar back a step.


    "Uncle, have you no weapon left after losing the Dark Sister?" Rhaegar''s voice was sharp as he swiftly unsheathed his sword, aiming a strike at Daemon''s waist.


    "Stop!" Several rmed voices rang out as Daemon deftly sidestepped Rhaegar''s blow, countering with a press to Rhaegar''s shoulder.


    "You''re outmatched, kid," Daemon sneered, his experience evident as he attempted to grapple Rhaegar.


    But Rhaegar wasn''t finished yet. He quickly came back with a counterattack, aiming for Daemon''s heart with his elbow.


    "Stop, no fighting in my castle!" Corlys stepped in with a loud order, calling for an end to the fight.One was the heir, the other the husband of his daughter.


    The atmosphere was charged with tension. Any harm done would have serious consequences.


    For either of them to die on his castle would be an unbearable disaster.


    One was the heir, the other the husband of his daughter.


    Neither of them bothered to listen to what he wanted to say.


    Rhaenyra and Laena sprang into action, rushing to separate the uncle and nephew.


    Rhaegar''s hand moved to stab Daemon in his belly, but he was halted by Rhaenyra''s intervention, her grip firm as she pulled him away.


    "Rhaegar, no," Rhaenyra''s voice was stern, her furious gaze fixed on Daemon, while Laena held him tightly, restraining his movements.


    At the same time, a blood-red figure was seen in the night sky above Driftmark.


    "Roar..."


    A loud, thunderous roar suddenly shattered the silence, reverberating like a bell. From the dark clouds emerged a massive beast, its green eyes gleaming with menace as it fixed its gaze on the intruder.


    "Roar!"


    The blood-red figure was startled by the appearance of the dark beast and let out a warning roar before quickly retreating and distancing itself from the threat.


    ...


    Once Corlys and the women got involved, the tension inside the castle eased up for a bit.


    Daemon, not happy about the confrontation, walked over to Laena��s seat and sat down.


    Rhaenyra forcefully pulled Rhaegar back to his seat. Corlys, his expression stern, spoke in a deep voice, "I don''t care what grudges you have. In my castle, you will not act recklessly."


    "Don''t take it personally. I just came back to have a look," Daemon said, taking Laena��s hand and stroking it.


    "Shut up!" Corlys immediately rebuked, his tone a sharp warning. "You''ve seen everything you wanted to see. Do you want me to kick you out?"


    Though they were technically of the same generation, Corlys was 28 years older and had no qualms about reprimanding his son-inw.


    Daemon snorted and turned his head, saying no more. He and Laena had already nned for the children''s return to Westeros to restore their legal status. While the n was originally to follow this step, Daemon, as their father, wanted to do it himself.


    "What was the response?" Daemon asked.


    "The prince has recognized the royal status of Ba and Rhaena," Ranelle replied, pinching Daemon''s waist discreetly to warn him not to cause trouble.


    Rhaegar sat across from Daemon, staring coldly and contemting whether another ambush was necessary. He had never liked his arrogant uncle and couldn''t tolerate someone who disregarded thew.


    "Calm down, he''s just a lost dog," Rhaenyra whispered, stroking Rhaegar''s cheek, worried that the conflict would reignite. After all, Daemon was a seasoned warrior, and she feared Rhaegar might suffer.


    Rhaenys, deciding to end the farce, stood up and raised her ss. "Tonight is a feast for me to reunite with my loved ones," she announced loudly. "Everyone here is a pir of the kingdom or a member of my bloodline."


    Sweeping her gaze around the room, she continued, "Whatever your grievances, I don''t want any surprises, at least tonight."


    Laena and Laenor were the first to respond, raising their sses as their mother spoke. Corlys, intending to follow suit, nced at Lyonel and raised his ss. Lyonel, catching Rhaenyra''s signal, clinked sses with her.


    By the end of the night, only Rhaegar, Daemon, and the watching Aegon remained silent.


    "I agree," Daemon finally said, tapping the tabletop after Laena''s persistent nudging.


    "I respect your wishes, Aunt," Rhaegar echoed, his eyes darkening as he also knocked on the tabletop.


    Aegon watched in awe and quickly followed suit, tapping the tabletop with excitement. It was a rare treat to see his brother Rhaegar and uncle Daemon sh. "This trip to Driftmark was worth it," he thought to himself.


    With the tension eased, Rhaenys took a sip of wine, indicating her approval.


    The feast continued. A servant brought Daemon a chair, and a maid carried the two babies into the hall. Daemon, who was experiencing fatherhood for the first time, took his twin daughters in his arms and gazed at them with a mix of wonder and tenderness.


    He had almost been a father once before, to a boy, but the child''s mother, a woman of low status, had been cast out by his ruthless brother, leading to a tragic miscarriage.


    Seizing the moment, Laena raised her ss and said sincerely, "Cousin, thank you for forgiving my sins and restoring the identities of my two children. I offer you a toast."


    Rhaegar raised his ss and exchanged a meaningful nce with Rhaenyra.


    "Laena, you have been away from Westeros for too long. Would you like to return to King''s Landing with us so my father can see the children?" Rhaenyra asked.


    "Of course, it would be my honor," Laena replied, her smile bright with hope for her children''s future.


    Rhaenyra pondered for a moment, then raised her ss again. "Laena, I love these two children, and I have an important request."


    Laena looked puzzled, unsure of what her friend meant.


    "The children''sst name is Targaryen, but their father is a sinner," Rhaenyra continued. "I believe they should live in the Red Keep and be raised by the crown."


    Rhaenyra''s request was logical. The children were indeed Targaryens by blood, and being raised at the Red Keep would ensure their integration into the royal family. It would be inappropriate to allow them to remain with Daemon or to be raised by Laena in Driftmark.


    Laena''s eyes widened in horror. "Rhaenyra, you want to take away my children?" she eximed, her voice trembling with resistance. She had just given birth; how could she part with her babies?

 Chapter 138: The Ambition of Return

    Chapter 138: The Ambition of Return


    "Laena, calm down," Rhaenyra said, understanding her friend''s distress. "The children will return to King''s Landing, and naturally, as their mother, you can follow, care for, and be with them."


    This arrangement had been part of the initial n she and Rhaegar had devised.


    The presence of a strong dragon rider and two new Targaryen heirs would be in the royal family''s best interest.


    Laena''s frown deepened, her eyes flickering with mixed emotions. She understood Rhaenyra''s reasoning, but it didn''t make the situation any easier.


    Her children were indeed Targaryens by blood, born into the royal family.


    "Wait," Daemon interjected, frowning and resting his chin on his hand. "When discussing the future of my daughters, shouldn''t my opinion count?"


    Rhaenyra nced at him with a bemused expression, unwilling to engage. In her eyes, Daemon''s words carried no weight.


    "Prince Daemon, you are a wanted criminal of the kingdom," Lyonel said, his face furious. "Allowing you to sit at this table is already a courtesy for Princess Rhaenys''s sake."


    "It''s ridiculous that you''re fighting over my daughters and yet won''t allow me, their father, to voice my opinion?" Daemon mocked, leaning down to kiss his daughters'' cheeks."Daemon, what is your true purpose for being here?" Rhaegar demanded, his patience wearing thin. Daemon''s sudden appearance was too suspicious to ignore.


    The room fell silent as everyone turned to Daemon, curiosity and skepticism in their eyes. Returning home seemed impossible for him. Since his betrayal, he lost his position.


    Daemon''s arrogance melted away as he bowed his head and looked at his daughters. After years of wandering through the Free Cities, he was uncertain about what to do next.


    He and Laena, with their unbeatable dragons, were in high demand. Princes, nobles, and wealthy merchants were eager to offer them estates and riches.


    Daemon knew this was just a business transaction. He couldn''t suppress his pride and submit to a foreign kingdom for wealth, using dragon power in exchange forfort.


    He was of dragon blood, a pure Targaryen. The people of the Free Cities were unworthy of his service.


    In his dreams, he often recalled the glory of old Valyria, where the Free Cities once belonged. Those fat-bellied fools should have been ves to the House of the Dragonlords.


    Laena wasn''t the only one longing for home. Daemon missed it too, especially after the birth of his daughters. He began to understand his brother Viserys''s anger towards him.


    This realization spurred him to n for his family''s future, leading Laena to write to Rhaenyra, seeking mercy.


    "Rhaegar, you''re as sharp as ever," Daemon said, lifting his head high as he addressed his nephew directly for the first time. "War ising, and the kingdom needs my strength."


    Rhaegar eyed him with disdain. "Uncle, the kingdom has the might of all the major lords and knights. Your help isn''t indispensable."


    "The pirates of the Three Daughters Kingdom are no small matter. The battlefield needs a wise and brave member of the royal family to lead the army," Daemon insisted, his face calm and confident.


    "In the current House Targaryen, I am the only adult male with the ability tomand on the battlefield and possess a dragon."


    "Don''t you think you''re too full of yourself?" Rhaegar frowned, questioning Daemon''s intentions. He couldn''t believe Daemon was actually considering rejoining the family.


    "Not at all. I''m simply stating the truth," Daemon replied, crossing his legs and speaking calmly. He was aware of his own situation and the challenges Westeros, and his brother Viserys, faced.


    Viserys couldn''t go to war, and his nephews were still young and untested. This uing battle was Daemon''s chance to clear his name and reunite with his brother.


    Rhaegar looked deeply into Daemon''s eyes, trying to discern his true intentions.


    "Rhaegar," Rhaenyra called softly, leaning down to whisper in his ear, "What are you going to do?"


    She understood the gravity of Daemon''s words. Thest Battle of the Stepstones hadsted for years, and Daemon, along with the Sea Snake, had endured heavy losses. She didn''t want her brother to risk his life in battle.


    Daemon could be a useful substitute if they could use Laena and the children as leverage.


    "No! I won''t!" Rhaegar ignored the implication of his sister''s words. Looking straight into Daemon''s eyes, he said solemnly, "The kingdom doesn''t need a criminal like you, and you''re not the only Targaryen who can go to war."


    He stood up, a strand of silver hair falling into his eyes, and dered forcefully, "When wares, I will ride my dragon into battle and make the enemy pay with blood and fire."


    He then warned Daemon, "As for you, you''d better leave before the feast is over."


    "Well said. Targaryen has no shortage of bloodthirsty men," Rhaenys, who had been watching silently, apuded. She then nced at Daemon, her expression stern. "Daemon, adjust your attitude. No one is indispensable."


    She was reminding Daemon that if he wanted forgiveness, he needed to humble himself and seek Viserys''s mercy, not negotiate with the younger generation.


    Daemon, anticipating rejection, remained silent. He knew he should have approached his brother Viserys to make peace, even if it meant risking his life. Anything was better than wasting his time here.


    Once again, the atmosphere dropped to a freezing point.


    Laena nudged her husband, urging him to leave. Daemon, however, remained seated, defiant.


    "Rhaenyra, I won''t leave my children," Laena asserted, "but I''ll consider your offer carefully."


    Rhaenyra reiterated her proposal. "If you are not sure, I can adopt the children myself."


    "But you''re not married," Laena pointed out.


    "It doesn''t matter," Rhaenyra replied with a slight smile. "I have Dragonstone as my fiefdom, and I am qualified to adopt a daughter. As their adoptive mother, I will ce dragon eggs in their cradles."


    "Dragon eggs..." Laena was a bit taken aback by the mention of such a precious gift.


    Restoring her children''s royal status was important, but securing dragon eggs was equally critical. Several dragons resided on Driftmark. Vhagar, the Mother of Dragons, hadid many eggs. Dreamfyre, Vermithor, and Silverwing were her direct descendants.


    Though by the time Laena tamed Vhagar, she was too old toy more eggs. Sea Smoke and Caraxes had neverid eggs.


    Meleys, known as the Red Queen, had a connection to eggying due to her distinctive red scales, but the royal family controlled all her eggs strictly, taking them all.


    To ce dragon eggs in her daughters'' cradles, Laena knew she had to seek the royal family''s forgiveness and secure the eggs from them. This was a rare opportunity, and Rhaenyra''s offer was tempting.

 Chapter 139: Uncle, You Have to Leave Something Behind!

    Chapter 139: Uncle, You Have to Leave Something Behind!


    "Rhaenyra, you are truly generous," Laena said, her mind racing with thoughts about the fate of her children.


    If possible, she wanted to renew the alliance between the Targaryens and Vryons. After all, her mother, husband, and children were all Targaryens.


    Rhaenyra smiled and said, "Think about it. You still have a few days before you return to King''s Landing."


    She knew Laena to be sensitive and intelligent, and she trusted that Laena would make the right choice to avoid potential conflicts between the two Houses.


    Their conversation served as a good diversion. The banquet had lost its lively atmosphere, and everyone present seemed disillusioned. Aegon looked around, amazed, as he cut into the roasted meat on his te. Laenor snorted and rose to raise his ss, trying to lighten the mood, but no one paid him any mind. Most people were lost in their own thoughts, considering their interests.


    It was gettingte, and the banquet was nearing its end. Daemon held his two daughters in his arms, lost in thought. He was only snapped out of it when one of the babies cried.


    "Laena, the baby seems to be hungry," Daemon said, frowning as he handed the swaddled infant to his wife.


    Laena was quick to pick up the baby and hand her over to the nursemaid behind her. Her corseted dress made it difficult for her to breastfeed.


    Like Daemon, Rhaegar remained silent, leaning back in his chair, chin resting on his hands, his eyes scanning the room. Daemon noticed his nephew''s unease, and irritation welled up inside him as he walked over to Rhaegar.Daemon walked over to Rhaegar, putting one hand on the tabletop as he went. "How is my brother?" he asked.


    Viserys had often been cut by the Iron Throne, and after all these years, Daemon wanted to know how he was doing.


    "No one has angered him. Father is doing well," Rhaegar replied slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly.


    "And what about Alicent? That woman hasn''t been rejected yet? Daemon''s eyes twinkled with curiosity as he brought up his old adversary.


    "She''s fine, too. She has father another son to look after," Rhaegar responded.


    "None of the Hightower women are any good, just trouble for the men," Daemon said with disgust. "She''s given you a lot of trouble, hasn''t she?"


    Rhaegar remained silent.


    "What, did I guess right?" Daemon leaned closer, trying to get a better look at his nephew.


    "Uncle, do you remember what I told you when you first came in?" Rhaegar asked, his head hanging low, hair messy around his ears.


    Daemon was slightly stunned, not understanding what he meant. Suddenly, realization dawned on him, and he followed Rhaegar''s line of sight to the gold-ted clock on the wall.


    Tick-tock, tick-tock...


    The second hand of the clockpleted its revolution, and the minute and hour hands jumped to 12:00.


    Tick-tock...


    The clock struck midnight, marking the start of a new day.


    "A new day has begun, Uncle." Rhaegar said.


    As the clock chimed, Rhaegar jumped up and hit Daemon''s head against the table. There was a crunching sound as the impact broke Daemon''s nose.


    "My good uncle, you haven''t learned your lesson from seven years ago!" Rhaegar''s pupils narrowed with rage as he grabbed a table knife and plunged it into Daemon''s left hand, pinning it to the tabletop.


    Rhaenys had said there would be no identsst night, and he would honor that. He''d been waiting patiently for midnight.


    Pfft.


    Blood sttered as the silver dinner knife stabbed through Daemon''s palm and nailed it to the tabletop.


    "Ah!..." Daemon let out a cry of pain as soon as he felt the knife pierce his palm.


    ...


    Outside the castle.


    "Roar..."


    A sharp roar pierced the night as Caraxes revealed himself, sensing his master''s danger.


    Without hesitation, it dove towards the castle.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal, more prepared and faster, burst from the castle with a p of its wings.


    Its coal-ck body mmed into Caraxes, and it had been waiting for this moment for a long time.


    This time, it was decided to tear this slim red worm apart.


    When attacked, Caraxes screamed in terror, shing with its ws and opening its jaws to unleash scarlet dragonfire at Cannibal.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal dodged the mes and bit down on one of Caraxes'' wings, shaking its head and tearing the wing apart.


    After Rhaegar''s training, Cannibal was really skilled at dragonbat. Destroying the wing first would make the opponent an easy target.


    As his flesh and blood were torn apart, Caraxes twisted his body frantically, using his long neck to bite Cannibal''s neck.


    Stab...


    Sharp teeth pierced scales, and Cannibal roared with rage as blood spilled.


    It tore off a piece of flesh with one bite, and its huge dragon head swung around, smashing into Caraxes'' head.


    With a thud, Caraxes was momentarily blinded, his sharp teeth yanking off more flesh.


    Cannibal wasn''t fazed by the minor wound and became even more ferocious.


    The dragon aimed for Caraxes'' head and shot green dragonfire like a fountain.


    "Roar..."


    The mes bombarded Caraxes'' face, causing him to scream as his sharp ws frantically tore at Cannibal''s belly, desperately seeking a chance of survival.


    Inside the castle.


    Daemon''s screams echoed terrifyingly through the halls.


    "Rhaegar!" Rhaenyra''s eyes widened, not expecting Rhaegar to strike so suddenly.


    "Uncle, I told you, you have to leave something behind!" Rhaegar''s smile grew wilder as he nimbly pulled out his Dark Sister and shed at Daemon''s pinned palm.


    "Get off!"


    At the critical moment, Daemon reacted quickly, kicking Rhaegar in the abdomen. The force of the kick made Rhaegar stagger, and the sword he was swinging struck Daemon''s shoulder.


    "Ah! Damn it!" Daemon, his spirit tense from the intense pain, quickly pulled the table knife from his left hand and threw it at Rhaegar''s chest.


    ng��


    Rhaegar''s quick reflexes allowed him to block the dinner knife with the spine of his sword.


    "Go to hell!"


    Seizing the opportunity to turn the tables, Daemon picked up dinner tes from the table and threw them at Rhaegar, getting in the way of his sword swings.


    He then grabbed a chair and mmed it down on Rhaegar''s face.


    "You''re the one who deserves to die!" Rhaegar raised his sword to block the chair and then kicked Daemon in the chest.


    Wham...


    The Dark Sister couldn''t block the blow, and the wooden chair shattered on Rhaegar''s head, blood oozing from the wound. Almost simultaneously, Daemon was kicked in the chest, spitting blood as he flew backward.


    "Rhaegar!"


    "Daemon!"


    The uncle and nephew were too quick for anyone to intervene until it was toote.


    Rhaenyra, standing next to Rhaegar, was hit by the broken pieces of the chair, cutting her face and neck. In the emergency, she rushed to support the swaying Rhaegar.


    On the other hand, Laena sprang from her seat and ran to her husband''s side.


    She was well-read in poetry and had some knowledge of medicine, so she knew the fight between uncle and nephew had been deadly and aimed at vital points.

 Chapter 140: Vhagar vs Cannibal

    Chapter 140: Vhagar vs Cannibal


    "Go away, I don''t need you!"


    Laena was about to check her husband''s injuries when Daemon pushed her aside andboriously climbed to his feet on his own.


    Pfft...


    Out of breath, Daemon spat out another mouthful of blood. He staggered towards Rhaegar, picked up what was left of the solid wood chair, and raised it high in the air, ready to m it down again.


    "Stop!"


    Rhaenyra, shocked and disoriented, instinctively grabbed Rhaegar and turned to shield him.


    "Get out of the way!"


    Before Rhaenyra could fall, Rhaegar hurriedly dragged her to the side and seized her chair.


    Compared to the dazed Daemon, Rhaegar seemed uninjured, and his strikes were still fast and hard.Before Daemon could strike, Rhaegar rounded the side of the wooden chair and smashed his legs.


    Wow...


    The second solid wood chair shattered, and Daemon was knocked over, his head hitting the cold floorboards hard.


    "That''s enough, stop it!"


    Seeing this, Corlys was shocked and moved to intervene.


    On one side, Lyonel rushed out, his bloated body blocking the way, his eyes sharp.


    "What do you mean?" Corlys red.


    Lyonel puffed out his chest and said in a deep voice, "We haveplied with Princess Rhaenys'' request, and now it''s the second day!"


    Though Lyonel appeared obese, it was just middle-aged fat. In his youth, he had been a warrior who could wield a hammer, and his eldest son, Harwin, had inherited his strength.


    Laenor''s face changed when he saw his father being stopped. Just as he stood up, a grease-stained table knife was pressed against his throat, forcing him to remain still.


    Turning back, he saw an excited Aegon, knife in hand, saying with a sinister smile, "Stay still, cousin!"


    He too was a pure Targaryen, with madness lurking within him, and he couldn''t afford to let a big show be interrupted.


    ...


    On the other hand, the fight between the two dragons continued.


    Caraxes, having battlefield experience, did notck battle prowess. In a panic, its ws stabbed into Cannibal''s belly, trying to gut it.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal, not willing to let that happen, roared and kicked Caraxes away. With a p of his wings, he rose quickly into the air and circled around the unsteady Caraxes.


    Soon, it found a weak point. Its huge body swooped down again, jaws wide open to attack Caraxes'' neck.


    Boom!


    As it approached, Caraxes continued to spew dragonfire, trying to force the approaching ck dragon to retreat. The mes seemed endless, as if they were inexhaustible.


    Cannibal, with his thick skin, managed to break through the fire with his eyes closed.


    Realizing the situation was dire, Caraxes stopped spewing fire and twisted its slender body to avoid the charge.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal, faster, bit down on Caraxes'' tail, dragging it. The tail, crucial for Caraxes'' bnce, was now a liability. Caraxes immediately turned its head and bit into Cannibal''s neck.


    Boom!


    Cannibal let go of the tail and spat dragon fire, roaring.


    Pfft...


    Cannibal continued his attack, biting into Caraxes'' wing. Dragon blood spurted into the night sky.


    Amidst Caraxes'' screams, Cannibal''s eyes were filled with rage as it greedily tore at the flesh, violently ripping one wing apart.


    With its wing severely damaged, Caraxes remembered the rainy night seven years ago when it crashed into the sea. In fear, it struggled desperately, burning Cannibal''s head with dragon fire.


    Cannibal twisted his head, sinking his ws into Caraxes'' flesh and opening his mouth to bite at its neck.


    "Roar..."


    At that moment, a dragon''s roar, like muffled thunder, filled the night sky with fury.


    In the next second, a huge beastparable to a mountain rushed out of the clouds and opened its bloody mouth to attack the defenseless Cannibal.


    In response, the Cannibal bit down on Caraxes'' neck, using it as a shield.


    Boom!


    A monstrous force struck, knocking Cannibal off bnce and sending him tumbling to the ground.


    "Roar..."


    Caught in the middle, Caraxes let out a miserable scream and fell with Cannibal.


    At that moment, Cannibal got a good look at the beast that attacked him: the fierce and tyrannical Vhagar.


    A dragon shares the heart of its master. Rhaegar and Daemon fought, and Cannibal attacked Caraxes.


    Laena worried about Daemon, and Vhagar came to rescue his long-timepanion, Caraxes.


    However, Caraxes was now in a terrible state.


    The three dragons were entangled, with Cannibal in the most dangerous position, back on the ground.


    Vhagar slowly descended, and Cannibal pped its wings desperately to escape.


    "Roar..."


    Vhagar recognized Cannibal and immediately chased after it as it fled. As the two giants disappeared, Caraxes managed to move, pping its intact wing to break its fall and avoid death.


    Still, it let out a mournful cry at the impact. Ity on its back, writhing in the shallows below like a long red snake.


    In the sky, Vhagar and Cannibal chased each other, creating a storm that swept across half of Driftmark.


    Cannibal quickly disappeared into the night clouds, nning to sneak up on them the old-fashioned way. Vhagar, more experienced in battle, spewed orange and yellow dragonfire that covered the sky.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal burst through the mes, bloodthirsty eyes locked on Vhagar, biting into the opponent''s thick neck.


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    The struggle between the two dragons had just begun. Several roars were heard on Driftmark, one after the other. First appeared a red dragon with fierce reddish scales and a crown.


    Following was a slightly smaller white dragon with a light silver-gray body. Both dragons roared upon seeing Cannibal biting Vhagar.


    At the same time, two more golden dragons of simr size emerged from the night sky. The four dragons faced each other in the air, an uneasiness rising.


    "Roar..."


    The most handsome Sunfyre, with the strongest temperament, locked his pupils on therger Meraxes and charged.


    Its courage was immense;st time it had dared to attack Dreamfyre, and now it had no fear of Meleys.


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre sounded the horn of war, and Sea Smoke roared, swooping down to face the angry Syrax.


    In an instant, the six dragons faced each other, fighting each other within the sky.


    The roar of the six dragons was so loud it woke countless people from their sleep.


    On the night sky, various colors of dragon firepeted and erupted, painting the sky in gold, scarlet, orange, and ghostly green.


    "Roar..."


    The battle intensified as Cannibal bit down on Vhagar''s neck, its ws piercing through the scaled armor. After years of growth, Vhagar was still a formidable force. With excellent speed, it was not without a fighting chance.


    "Roar..."


    Bitten by the neck, Vhagar let out a dull roar. Its ws immediately ripped open the belly of Cannibal, tearing a bloody gash.


    The old dragon''s fury would make the younger generation understand the consequences of offending it.

 Chapter 141: Detaining Daemon

    Chapter 141: Detaining Daemon


    The dragon roars was loud and clear on Driftmark, startling the people in the castle.


    The banquet was already in chaos, the ground covered in wreckage.


    Daemon''s consciousness blurred as the back of his head hit the ground. He hunched over, clutching his legs, cold sweat trickling from the pain.


    He had been careless.


    He hadn''t known that Syrio had trained his nephew so well that even he had been bested.


    "You''re getting old, uncle," Rhaegar sneered, looking down at the fallen man while holding onto the tabletop with one hand.


    Rhaegar was no longer a child, and he was not afraid of his uncle, even when fighting alone without relying on Cannibal.


    "Roar..."


    The dragons roared, and Rhaegar gasped, brushing his loose hair back.He felt Cannibal''s fury and horror.


    Caraxes had been defeated, but it triggered a wild dance of dragons.


    "Prince, listen to the dragons'' roars outside. What should we do now?" Corlys questioned angrily, his eyes full of worry.


    Dragons were not human; they were fierce beasts with ferocious temperaments. Once they fought, they wouldn''t stop until death, and casualties were inevitable.


    The death of a dragon would be an irreparable loss to both the Vryon and Targaryen Houses.


    "Lord Corlys, our priority now is Daemon. The dragon won''t be able to intervene for a while," Rhaegar, connected to Cannibal''s mind, assured, emphasizing the need to calm the people''s agitation.


    "Daemon has been seriously injured by you. What threat does he pose?" Corlys fretted, his heart racing. "One dragon is enough to destroy a town, and there''s no telling how many dragons out there will fight. They''ll destroy Driftmark!"


    "The Vryon family tamed and bred dragons on Driftmark. This is the risk you should have epted," Rhaegar dismissed, his mind clear, focused on resolving the situation.


    "Rhaegar, I sense Vhagar''s wrath. It''s engaged in battle," Laena warned, holding the dazed Daemon. As Vhagar''s master, she could clearly sense Vhagar''s current anger, which was beyond her control.


    "The one battling Vhagar is Cannibal. I know that very well," Rhaegar dered, focusing on Daemon.


    Laena pleaded, "He came here seeking understanding, with no intention of offending Your Grace."


    She knew her husband well. The outwardly prodigal man had repented and wanted to atone by serving his kingdom.


    "But he shouldn''t have appeared to me in such a manner," Rhaegar insisted,manding Lyonel, "You will personally escort him back to King''s Landing in the morning."


    "Yes, Prince," Lyonel affirmed solemnly, understanding the gravity of the task.


    Daemon, being the king''s brother, meant Rhaegar couldn''t risk being killing him and being used of Kinying. Moreover, Daemon held value as a bargaining chip for the Vryon House.


    Lyonel dared to think and act, instructing his servant to call the royal family''s apanying guards to take Daemon away promptly.


    Laena, uneasy, tried to stop them, but Corlys dragged her away.


    The Vryon House was only a vassal and could not stop the Heir from arresting criminals.


    The dragons on the ind were still raging, and now was not the time to argue over Daemon alone.


    "The farce is over. I''m going outside to see what''s going on," Rhaenys, who had been sitting steadily in her chair, said as she stood up and strutted out the door with an ugly look on her face.


    She disliked the domineering Daemon and was equally dissatisfied with her husband. As a woman, her heart was full of anger and struggle.


    She couldn''t control many political affairs, but she could control her own dragon. Meleys was also involved in the battle of the dragons, and the restlessness of her emotions pulled at her mind. She had to hurry and stop it.


    Seeing Daemon being carried away by the guards, Rhaenyra breathed a sigh of relief and took Rhaegar''s hand, inquiring, "Syrax is involved in the battle too. What''s going to happen?"


    Her dragon was still very young and had nobat experience. This made her very worried.


    For a while, except for Rhaenys who had left earlier, everyone''s eyes fell on Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar scanned them one by one and said with a determined face, "Any dragon rider,e with me. Cannibal is under mymand. I will stop the fight."


    Saying this, he looked to Corlys andmanded, "Dispatch men, maintainw and order on the ind, and seal off information for tonight."


    On the eve of a war, there were many spies lurking in the shadows. With the Triarchy as an enemy right now, news of infighting must not be leaked.


    "As youmand. I hope you seed in stopping the fight," Corlys responded, his heart in turmoil. Driftmark was the foundation of the family; it had to be protected.


    "Damn you, Daemon!" Corlys cursed in his heart as he turned to deploy his soldiers.


    If not for Daemon''s sudden appearance, he would have been in a better position for negotiations at King''s Landing.


    Now that Daemon was captured, his daughter and wife would take the opportunity to get closer to the royal family, greatly reducing his influence.


    "Laena,e out with me and try to control Vhagar," Rhaegar said, looking at the sorrowful Laena. He sighed, knowing that both her husband and father were too ambitious.


    Rhaegar took the lead and walked out of the castle, followed by the rest. They all felt the dragon''s agitation, and they were all afraid.


    "Roar..."


    In the night sky, six dragons were fighting each other.


    Meleys flew in a circle, teasing the reckless Sunfyre and spitting scarlet dragonfire.


    Sea Smoke and Syrax fought fiercely in the air, one with bites and the other with ws.


    The most eye-catching of all were the two adult dragons.


    The ckCannibal weaved through the clouds, its green dragonfire falling like a swarm ofets.


    Vhagar, evenrger, swept through the winds as he flew, its eyes fixed on the Cannibal.


    On closer inspection, it became clear that Vhagar had lost arge chunk of flesh from his neck. If it weren''t for his size, this bite would have killed any other dragon.


    In contrast, Cannibal was in a worse state. His abdomen was torn open with tworge holes, and hot dragon blood kept pouring down.


    The head of the dragon was also scratched, a bloodstain piercing through one eye, but fortunately, its green pupil was intact.


    The city of Driftmark was in a state of chaos at night, with soldiers being deployed to the two towns on the ind.


    "Meleys, please stop fighting and stay away from the battlefield!"


    In the light of the torches, Rhaegar saw Rhaenys standing under a stone archway, shouting into the night sky.


    Most of the dragons were still fighting in the sky above High Tide, except for Cannibal and Vhagar, who were chasing each other.


    The dragon''s roar was so loud that Rhaenys''s cry was barely audible.


    "Roar..."


    Meleys, known as the Red Queen, was exceptionally gorgeous and was hatched from a nest of dragon eggs alongside Caraxes.


    With its speed, the young Sunfyre was easily fooled.

 Chapter 142: Stopping the Dragons

    Chapter 142: Stopping the Dragons


    Many years ago, Meleys was known as the fastest dragon in Westeros history, easily surpassing Caraxes and Vhagar in the sky.


    In tonight''s dragon fight, it showed off its speed perfectly.


    Sunfyre didn''t even get a chance to touch it. It was far behind, like a cat ying with a mouse.


    "Meleys, please stop fighting!"


    Rhaenys was still shouting, looking at the swarming dragons with a heavy face.


    "Roar..."


    Amidst her shouts, Meleys seemed to have heard her voice.


    The red dragon stopped its attack on Sunfyre and looked down at Driftmark below with vertical pupils, searching for the figure of its master.


    Rhaenys was overjoyed and waved her torch, shouting, "Stay out of the battlefield, Meleys!""Roar..."


    Meleys spotted her master and sted away the chasing Sunfyre with a burst of dragonfire.


    After sensing Rhaenys''s wish, its pupils shed with a diffused color, and it easily shook off Sunfyre, disappearing into the night.


    It was azy dragon with a strong bond with its master, and it did as it was told to get out of the fight.


    "Roar..."


    Losing his opponent, Sunfyre was enraged. His pupils fell on Sea Smoke, who was fighting with Syrax, and he rushed over without thinking.


    His golden scales were charred ck by Meleys, and in his fury, Sea Smoke became his next target.


    "Syrax!..."


    Rhaegar and the others ran out of the castle, and Rhaenyra immediately saw the bloodied Syrax and cried out in shock.


    Syrax seemed to sense the emotions of his rider, and his tearing motion stiffened for a moment.


    "Roar..."


    In an instant, it was pped upside the head by a wing of the enraged Sea Smoke, who continued to tear at his opponent.


    Sunfyre also rushed over and mmed his head into Sea Smoke. The three dragons attacked indiscriminately, and dragon mes flew all over the sky.


    "Haha, good fight! Sunfyre, quickly tear it apart!"


    Witnessing his own dragon fighting, Aegon was filled with excitement andughed wildly as he apuded.


    "Shut the fuck up!"


    The situation was urgent, and Rhaegar kicked him down, hating to stitch his mouth shut.


    Aegon rolled twice on the ground, looking at Rhaegar in fear and gritting his teeth in secret.


    "Vhagar is out of control, its heart filled with rage."


    At that moment, Laena came slowly, speaking in a disoriented manner.


    "It''s alright, Vhagar''s speed is a weakness."


    Rhaegar looked at the Cannibal spewing dragonfire in the night sky with a grave expression on his face.


    The Cannibal was younger and had a more flexible body.


    As long as he did not get into closebat with Vhagar, he would not be in danger.


    Rhaegar closed his eyes slightly and tried tomunicate with the Cannibal with all his heart, hoping to end this dance of dragons as soon as possible.


    "Roar..."


    In mid-air, Sea Smoke screamed miserably.


    Syrax and Sunfyre''s dragons surrounded and attacked it, tearing its flesh.


    In just a few moments, Sea Smoke was bruised and bloodied all over.


    "Rhaegar, quickly tell your dragon to stop this! Sea Smoke can''t hold on much longer," Laenor said, looking anxious and pacing back and forth.


    Sea Smoke was his dragon, and they had been together for more than ten years. He could feel Sea Smoke''s pain.


    "Don''t rush. Cannibal has to shake off Vhagar''s pursuit first," Rhaegar chided harshly, mentally establishing a connection with Cannibal.


    He didn''t want any dragons to fall in this farce either. Every dragon in the sky came from the Targaryens. If any dragon died, the one who would lose the most would be House Targaryen.


    "Roar..."


    Finally, Cannibal sensed the will of its master and roared as it looked down.


    It was in a furious state, the pain from its wounds stimting its nerves.


    "Cannibal, distract Vhagar!"


    The moment he made contact, Rhaegar shouted subconsciously and stared at the old dragon in the sky.


    This old dragon was clearly out of control.


    If they kept fighting, they''d both lose.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal looked back and sprayed a mouthful of dragonfire, boosting its speed and rushing into the clouds above, flying straight out of Driftmark.


    After spending many years raiding Dragonstone Ind, Cannibal had not only built up a strong physique but also developed a cunning nature.


    It was really angry about the old dragon''s attack and wanted to tear it apart. However, its mes couldn''t get through the old dragon''s thick armor, and it couldn''t gain the upper hand in closebat.


    Vhagar, enraged and focused solely on killing Cannibal, struggled to catch up with its heavy body.


    When it chased Cannibal out of Driftmark, the dragon had already hidden in the night and disappeared without a trace.


    "Roar..."


    Having lost its target, Vhagar was particrly agitated, spitting out dragonfire randomly and shaking its nose in search of the scent.


    After a while, it seemed to have caught the scent of blood left behind by Cannibal and chased after it in the direction of the Narrow Sea.


    The two dragons left Driftmark, but the three remaining dragons were still at it.


    Sunfyre, seemingly crazed, spewed dragonfire and attacked both Sea Smoke and Syrax indiscriminately.


    The two dragons, reacting with ferocity, turned their heads to bite his neck and legs, intent on taking down this reckless foe first.


    "Don''t! Sunfyre, run!" Aegon, seeing the dire situation, scrambled to his feet, urging and shouting into the air. He didn''t want Sunfyre to die here.


    "Rhaegar, Syrax is being held back! It and Sea Smoke will tear Sunfyre apart," Rhaenyra said, desperate to control the situation. She could contact Syrax, but the battle was fierce and beyond her control.


    "Don''t worry, Cannibal will be back soon!" Rhaegar held a torch and looked out into the dim night sky.


    "Roar!"


    As soon as he finished speaking, a dark figure emerged from the other side of Driftmark, heading straight for the three entangled dragons.


    Boom...


    Green dragonfire sprayed from afar, enveloping the three dragons like andslide. Each of the three dragons was wounded, and their injuries sizzled and popped under the burning mes, emitting the odor of burnt sulfur.


    Immediately after, the huge ck shadow, carrying the dragon mes, charged at the three dragons, dispersing them in one go.


    "Roar..."


    Sea Smoke, being the closest, suffered the greatest impact, instantly smashed into the cliff below, screaming miserably.


    Sunfyre was also dazed by the impact, shaking his head and roaring.


    The green mes died out, revealing Cannibal, who stared fiercely at the two golden dragons.


    Syrax, who had been with Cannibal for many years and knew its terror, followed his master''s orders and fled.


    Sunfyre, still not grasping the situation, roared furiously at Cannibal.


    Boom!


    Just as the roar echoed, Cannibal swooped down, halfway reversed, and its thick dragon tail whipped Sunfyre like a long whip.


    Without even a scream, Sunfyre was instantly whipped away, falling onto the shallow beach nearby.


    In that moment, it recalled its fear of Cannibal and immediately came to its senses. Twisting its body, it dug into the sand to avoid Cannibal''s sight.


    Cannibal''s pupils indeed focused on it, assessing whether it would continue to resist so it could vent its anger.


    Seeing Sunfyre trembling in fear, Cannibal let out a low growl and turned its gaze to Sea Smoke.


    Sea Smoke had just climbed up, arge section of its scales broken, dragon blood roasting the grass underneath.


    "Roar.."


    Feeling the murderous gaze, Sea Smoke didn''t care about the pain, awkwardly spreading its wings and flying back to its nest on Driftmark.

 Chapter 143: The Storm Doesn’t Stop

    Chapter 143: The Storm Doesn��t Stop


    Cannibal looked at the retreating Sea Smoke and snorted, its pupils filled with disdain.


    Apart from that old dragon, there wasn''t a single dragon on the entire ind that could challenge it.


    It looked back at the dark night in the distance, a trace of jealousy shing in its eyes.


    Its wings vibrated, creating a gale as it flew toward the city below.


    At the stone archway, a cluster of torches was lit.


    Rhaegar watched Cannibal''s figure, his face calm, but his thoughts turbulent.


    Daemon''s sudden arrival interrupted tonight''s feast.


    The presence of uncle and nephew in the same room and the sh of dragons shattered the fragile peace, leaving a scene that couldn''t be undone.


    Rhaegar sighed inwardly, silently scanning the Vryon people and formting a strategy.As the chaos subsided, Rhaenys''s expression eased, and she was the first to speak. "Rhaegar, your dragon is extraordinary."


    With decades of experience handling dragons, she had barely managed tomunicate with Meleys and control it enough to leave the battlefield.


    The ck dragon not only gave up fighting Vhagar but also managed to lure it away and force the rest of the dragons to retreat.


    This was something no ordinary dragon rider could achieve.


    As the dragons stopped fighting, the group let out a collective sigh of relief.


    Although several dragons had sustained varying degrees of injury, especially Sea Smoke and Sunfyre, who had been severely wounded by Cannibal, they had at least survived.


    "Aunt, tonight''s events are far from over," Rhaegar said, lowering his eyes and secretlymunicating with Cannibal.


    "Rhaenys, the dragons have flown away. Is the matter settled?" Corlys, wearing light armor, strode in with a team of guards, anxiously asking his wife.


    When the dragons were fighting, there had been unexpected disturbances on the ind.


    He had already sent his men to quell the disturbances and put the whole ind on alert.


    Looking at her husband with aplicated expression, Rhaenys hesitated. "Corlys..."


    "Roar..."


    Before she could finish, a roar like a bell rang out, and a gust of wind pressed down on High Tide from above.


    In the night, Cannibal swooped down, extinguishing the torches in the wind.


    "On guard!"


    Sea Snake''s expression suddenly changed. He rekindled his torch and shielded his wife behind him.


    He had dreamed of more dragons in the Vryon House.


    But like Viserys, he had an inexplicable fear of the power of dragons.


    Years of sailing had taught him that nature was so powerful that even a seasoned sailor could do nothing but hide from it.


    In the eyes of the Sea Snake, dragons were more than human beings.


    They could be used, but they were dangerous.


    The guards formed a circle to protect Rhaegar and the others, hastily rekindling the torches.


    Under the firelight, the darkness was dispersed once again.


    Until then, a shadow emerged, enveloping half of High Tide.


    "Lord Corlys, in addition to responding to the Triarchy, it seems we also need to discuss the ownership of the dragons," Rhaegar''s voice echoed faintly, reaching everyone''s ears.


    The Sea Snake, who was getting on in years and had poor eyesight, squinted as he looked at Rhaegar under the stone archway.


    Rhaegar hung his head slightly, facing away from everyone, his silver hair blowing in the night breeze.


    "Prince, the dragon riders of my family are of Targaryen blood, and our two families have been joined in marriage for generations," Corlys said, locking eyes with his wife, his heart pounding faster and faster.


    He felt a bit nervous as he spoke these words, as if he himself was not convinced of what he was saying.


    "Oh, really?" Rhaegar''s voice was indifferent, and heughed softly. "Since that is the case, it is even more important to discuss this in detail and establish a perfect system to ensure that no one with ulterior motives jeopardizes the friendship between our two houses."


    As he spoke, he slowly turned around.


    Under the flickering torches, the crowd could faintly see an evenrger dark figure standing behind the stone archway.


    Rhaegar scanned over the Vryon people and said lightly, "What do you say, Lord Corlys?"


    A gust of wind blew, and the Cannibal stretched out its broad wings. Its bleeding dragon head was more than a match for the towers of High Tide, and its green pupils looked down on everyone.


    The Sea Snake''s eyes widened. He secretly swallowed his saliva and gripped his wife''s hand tightly. No one could ignore the presence of such a dragon.


    Rhaegar put his hands behind his back, took one step forward, and asked, "Aunt Rhaenys, you are a princess of Targaryen. Do you agree with my proposal?"


    "Rhaegar, I am a woman and cannot decide the fate of my house," Rhaenys said, holding her head high and gazing fearlessly at her nephew.


    She was a sharp, intelligent woman. From the moment she tookmand of the dragon, she had married and had children,peted for the Iron Throne, and fought numerous battles. But it was not to be.


    Thend of Westeros is ruled by men, and because she is a woman, she will never have as much say as the men. She became a victim of her family''s marriage, a subordinate to her husband.


    She known asthe Queen Who Never Was<b>, </b>but could only be like her dragon, the Red Queen Meleys,zily coiled on Driftmark.


    She spent her days in a pretty boring routine.


    "Auntie, it is not your fault that you were born a woman. You possess wisdom that is no less than that of QueenVisenya," Rhaegar said, convinced that Rhaenys''s heart was still with the Targaryens.


    He advised her, "I can secure you a new seat at the Small Council. The Targaryen dragons must not go abroad; they must bemanded by a Targaryen."


    He nned to form an order of Dragon Knights, not only to gather the dragons of the Vryon House but also to put an end to future family marriages and the dilemma of dragons following out-married daughters away.


    "What duties do you intend to give Rhaenys?" Corlys asked, suspicion filling his voice as he heard about the council and the ownership of the dragons.


    Rhaegar nced at him but did not respond.


    Corlys frowned at the situation, still wanting to pursue the question.


    "Roar......"


    Cannibal roared, and green dragonfire illuminated the entire High Tide, casting everything in an eerie emerald glow.


    As the mes surged, the temperature rose sharply, creating a stifling, suffocating heat.


    Rhaegar stood in front of Cannibal, his skin flushed and radiating a heat that rivaled the dragon''s.


    With his blood boiling, he was oblivious to the difort, and he sternly warned, "Lord Corlys, dragons are the wealth of the Targaryen House. This is not up for debate!"


    He felt his father had been too lenient, allowing the Sea Snake and the Vryon House to increasingly disregard the royal family''s authority.


    Initially, Rhaegar hadn''t considered a strategy to reim the Vryon dragons. Now he had a n, and with newfound strength, he was determined to act decisively to avoid future trouble.


    "Enough! They can''t take the heat, Rhaegar!" Rhaenys eximed, holding her husband, who was struggling to breathe in the intense heat. She and her children were of true dragon blood, but her husband, being only of Valyrian descent, could not withstand the dragon''s mes much longer.


    "Do you agree with my proposal, Aunt?" Rhaegar asked, ignoring her plea.


    Tonight was the perfect opportunity. The Vryon dragons had fled, and their morale was low. He wasn''t going to let this chance slip away.

 Chapter 144: Hull

    Chapter 144: Hull


    "Rhaegar, do you truly intend to grant me such authority?" Rhaenys asked, her eyes crinkling in disbelief as she looked at her nephew.


    She wasn''t after power for herself; she just wanted to change her husband''s mind and ease the tensions between the Targaryens and Vryons. She never expected such an opportunity to present itself this way.


    "You are a princess of the royal family, in line with the wishes of our great-grandfather Jaehaerys, and I trust you," Rhaegar affirmed, without the slightest hesitation.


    Though people remained skeptical, Rhaegar wouldn''tpletely entrust the Vryon household to Rhaenys. It was precisely her dual identity, both Targaryen and Vryon, that allowed her to bridge the gap and achieve peace without bloodshed.


    With this reassurance, Rhaenys looked down at her husband''s pained expression and made up her mind.


    Raising her head again, she met Rhaegar''s gaze and said, "I ept your proposal. There are only three families of old Valyrian descent left, and unity is our only way to preserve our power."


    "You''ve made the right choice, Aunt," Rhaegar said, his voice clear as he pped his hands.


    "Roar..."


    The dragon finally stopped its me, let out a final roar, and lifted its wings, soaring into the sky. The old dragon mighte back to Driftmark at any moment, so it had to remain vignt.As the dragonfire died down, the temperature gradually dropped, and the air began to circte again. The Sea Snake gasped for air, his pupils slowly regaining their focus. Moments ago, he felt as if he had seen the Stranger.


    He felt this feeling before, many years ago. It was something that happened to him when he was young. He was on a ship that was caught in a storm and all the people on it were swept away by the waves.


    Rhaenys, her eyes firm, stroked her husband''s cheek and advised, "Corlys, we should united with the royal family."


    She had been married for many years and didn''t want to see her husband go astray.


    "Fine, I''ll listen to you on all counts," the Sea Snake agreed, breathing heavily. He recognized the stark difference between how Viserys and his son handled matters. He decided to abandon his original intentions and reconsider his house''s future.


    "It''s good that you''ve realized this. We missed our chance; we should learn to let go," Rhaenys said, referring to the failed bid for the 101st Grand Council session.


    The Sea Snake had always been haunted by this, believing that if his wife were elected sessor, the Vryon House could ascend in status. This lingering sense of inadequacy was a significant reason for his estrangement from the royal family.


    Laenor and Laena approached their parents, sensing the somber mood.


    Rhaenyra walked over to Rhaegar, while Aegon, gritting his teeth, stood behind him.


    A circle of guards with torches surrounded the two families, each taking their side.


    "The danger''s over, and so is the feast," Laena said, forcing a smile at the three Targaryen siblings.


    "Go back and rest. It''ste," the Sea Snake said, his legs sore and weak, trying his best to maintain a dignified image as he invited the Targaryen siblings to return to the castle.


    Things hade to a head, and it was impossible for the Vryon House to rebel against the kingdom at the risk of mutual destruction. The Sea Snake had traveled the world and cultivated broad-mindedness along the way. He wouldn''t lose hisposure over one setback.


    "Thank you, Lord Corlys. You and your family are indispensable friends of the royal family," Rhaegar nodded respectfully, and the matter was concluded.


    ...


    Three dayster.


    Driftmark was buzzing with activity as guests from all over the realm arrived, filling the harbor with ships to celebrate Rhaenys''s name day. The celebration was a huge sess, exceeding everyone''s expectations.


    As the host, the Sea Snake, along with his eldest son, Laenor, weed and entertained the castle''s guests.


    Two days earlier, Laenor had returned to King''s Landing, bringing along the bound Daemon. Laena volunteered to apany them, taking her two children to King''s Landing as well.


    Vhagar had not yet returned, though some fishermen reported sightings of it at sea.


    Snake didn''t object to Laena''s decision. He decided to go along with the idea of reintegrating under royal rule, and he trusted that Viserys would not trouble his daughter.


    After the celebrations, he nned to take his family to King''s Landing to discuss matters concerning the Three Daughters and his wife''s new responsibilities. As a seasoned politician, he was determined to reim what the Vryons had lost and solidify their standing with the crown.


    ...


    Hull Town


    A grand theater bustled with activity. To celebrate the Queen Who Never Was name day, numerous theater actors and circus troupes flocked to Driftmark, eager to profit from the festivities.


    Rhaegar was sitting on the second floor, watching the show. The y was about the 101st Council''s session crisis, which is a story that''s been told many times before.


    As expected, the actress ying Rhaenys was quickly overpowered by the actor ying Viserys, which symbolized her failed bid for session.


    "Boring show. Why doesn''t the kingdom ban these ys that mock the royal family?" Rhaegar remarked, popping one red grape after another into his mouth. He nced curiously at the seat beside him.


    "A bunch of clowns, that''s all," Rhaenys replied, draped in a ck robe, her legs crossed as she watched the performance calmly. She showed no sign of annoyance, even critiquing the actresses for their appearance, saying they damaged her image.


    "Auntie, it''s your name day. Are you sure you don''t want to go back to the castle?" Rhaegar asked casually.


    Rhaenys shook her head. "I''ve already shown my face. I don''t want to entertain those female guests; it''s too annoying."


    "So, are we just going to watch this poor performance?" Rhaegar spected about why Rhaenys had brought him here.


    "Why not?" Rhaenys retorted. "This is the kingdom''s prejudice against women. I''m sure Rhaenyra has seen quite a few simr ys."


    "There are very few theater troupes in King''s Landing," Rhaegar remarked, seemingly irrelevant.


    When he was elected heir, King''s Landing was filled with ys about the Sleeping Dragon bringing down the Realm''s Delight.


    The performances were cut short that night, with the actors'' tongues removed. Nobody knew who was behind it, but it effectively put an end to the theaters.


    Rhaenys, recalling rumors she''d heard, asked, "Are you going to take back Laenor and Laena''s dragons?"


    Rhaegar shook his head. "Once a dragon recognizes its master, it won''t ept another. Back in old Valyria, the forty Dragonlord families maintained their glory through a parliamentary system.


    Here in Westeros, the Targaryens are the only Dragonlord family. I''ve decided to form an Order of Dragon Knights to bring dragon riders outside the Targaryen family under the Crown''s jurisdiction."


    "Is that why you chose to put me in charge?" Rhaenys asked, not surprised but a little impressed.


    "Targaryen rulees from dragons, and only dragons can destroy dragons," Rhaegar quoted their great-grandfather Jaehaerys.


    "I will caution Corlys to abandon his illusions," Rhaenys sighed, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes.


    Seeing that his aunt had lost the will to talk, Rhaegar stood, grabbed a handful of dates, and left. The celebrations were over, but a crucial negotiation in King''s Landing awaited.


    The Three Daughters'' Kingdom loomed in the shadows, ready to strike at any moment. The kingdom''s instability prevented it from focusing on external threats.

 Chapter 145: The Vanguard of the Triarchy

    Chapter 145: The Vanguard of the Triarchy


    After leaving the theater, Rhaegar wandered aimlessly through the streets, taking in the sights of Hull Town.


    Living on an ind wherend is scarce, most people earn their living through handicrafts.


    Stalls lined both sides of the street, bustling with activity.


    In addition to the local crafts, there were many other profitable businesses: gambling houses, brothels, and fighting rings.


    Rhaegar, dressed in a ck suit with his silver hair and handsome face, stood out in the crowd.


    Many of the women on the street approached him, offering to show him a good time.


    Despite his stoic expression, Rhaegar, being young and somewhat naive, felt a flicker of excitement at the prospect.


    As he hesitated, his expression still nk, he suddenly heard a familiar voice.


    Raising an eyebrow in interest, he brushed past the insistent women and made his way to the mouth of an alley at the end of the street."Hey, you''re so wet and so beautiful," Aegon said naked to a big, fat woman as he worked out vigorously, sweating like rain.


    "Aegon..." Rhaegar''s eyes widened, unaware that the boy had begun whoring so early in his life.


    Like a good brother, Rhaegar did not understand Aegon''s excitement about having sex in the street, but he chose to tolerate it.


    Aegon''s genitals were visible, and Rhaegar''s eyes held a yful, contemptuous expression.


    But when he took a closer look at the woman in Aegon''s arms, his face hardened and his mouth opened wide.


    "What is it, handsome?" the woman asked.


    Thedy who had invited him followed, looked at the sex in the alley, and said amusedly: "That''s my mother. Do you prefer mature women?"


    "No, no, no, I like the young and beautiful ones."


    Rhaegar, slightly disturbed and deeply shaken by Aegon''s taste, left the scene in a hurry.


    He swore that the old woman had the same effect on him as the Shadowbinder he had fought as a child.


    "The Seven Hells! How did Alicent teach her son?"


    Ignoring the tempting invitations, Rhaegar left in a hurry.


    He had no intention of prolonging his stay for even a minute.


    ...


    It was noon. The sunlight on the ind was blindingly bright, so intense that people could barely keep their eyes open.


    Running out of the bustling street, Rhaegar learned from passers-by that he had entered thergest dark alley in town.


    After understanding Aegon''s outlook on life, Rhaegar felt a calmness wash over him, allowing reason to triumph over desire.


    He continued to wander through the town until he reached the harbor of Hull.


    The harbor was teeming with ships, and workers were busy loading and unloading goods under the scorching sun.


    Just as he was looking for a shady ce to rest, amotion erupted in the harbor.


    "Come quickly, there''s a lifeboat drifting over..."


    "There are dead people on board, covered in blood..."


    The harbor buzzed with shouts as sturdy sailors jumped into the sea to guide the lifeboat back and bring the bodies ashore.


    Rhaegar turned his gaze to the scene.


    One of the deceased was richly dressed, with an arrow lodged in his heart.


    Soon, soldiers rushed in, carrying away the dead and restoring order.


    "Looks like something happened," Rhaegar murmured as he silently returned to High Tide.


    The routes of the Narrow Sea, the Stepstones, and other nearby waters were generally considered safe.


    Judging by the condition of the boat, it appeared to have been attacked, likely by the pirates of the Triarchy.


    On his way back, Rhaegar encountered a tense Rhaenys, apanied by a group of guards.


    "I just received news that a group of pirates appeared in the waters of the Stepstones and intercepted a Vntis fleet," Rhaenys said solemnly.


    "I saw the boat that failed to escape in the harbor," Rhaegar recounted.


    "Corlys has tried to keep the news quiet to avoid panic among the guests. We need to get back quickly."


    Rhaenys, known for her fiery temper, understood all too well the threat the pirates posed.


    ...


    High Tide Castle


    The guests were still enjoying the banquet, blissfully unaware of the brewing trouble. Rhaenys led Rhaegar through a dark passage into the Driftwood Throne Hall, where the Sea Snake awaited them.


    Seeing his wife and Rhaegar, the Sea Snake quickly rose from his driftwood throne. "The scouts have returned," he said in a grave tone. "It''s the pirates of the Triarchy. This attack appears to be a pre-war test."


    "Should we gather the fleet?" Rhaenys asked directly.


    "No, too muchmotion will rm the guests," the Sea Snake replied. "The raiding pirates are operating in small groups, and the fleet wouldn''t be able to catch them."


    The Sea Snake''s face was serious as he analyzed the situation. "The pirates of the Triarchy always retreat after a skirmish. If we dispatch the fleet now, they''ll be long gone before we arrive."


    "After looting a fleet, they''ll need to transport their plunder, which takes time and effort," Rhaenys said thoughtfully, then smiled. "If the fleet can''t catch them, the dragons certainly can!"


    The Sea Snake frowned, uneasy. "The pirates know our strength. Their ships are equipped with scorpion crossbows."


    In thest battle of the Stepstones, the scorpion crossbows had posed a significant threat, forcing Caraxes and Sea Smoke to avoid direct confrontation during sea battles.


    "It doesn''t matter," Rhaenys said confidently. "At most, only a few pirate ships will have scorpion crossbows. Meleys is the fastest dragon; they won''t be able to hit her."


    The Sea Snake hesitated. His wife was right. Meleys was incredibly fast and could reach the Stepstones in an hour. But he worried about her safety. His eldest son Laenor was upied with the guests, and he couldn''t bear to send Rhaenys alone into danger.


    His hesitation was interrupted. "Lord Corlys, I can go with Aunt Rhaenys," Rhaegar volunteered.


    The Sea Snake frowned. "Prince, the pirates of the Triarchy are not mere poachers. It''s too risky."


    He knew that Rhaegar was the king''s eldest son and the kingdom''s heir. Allowing him to face such danger could make him a traitor to House Vryon if anything happened to Rhaegar.


    "You don''t have to worry," Rhaegar said confidently. "You''ve seen the Cannibal''s strength. A few pirates are no match."


    Rhaegar was eager to gauge the strength of the Three Daughters'' pirates himself. He''d heard a lot about their prowess and wanted to see it firsthand.


    The Sea Snake''s face was grim as he nced at his wife, his eyes questioning. He would have preferred to let the pirates go rather than send Rhaenys and Rhaegar into peril. "Are you ready to face blood and fire?"


    "A bunch of pirates? I don''t care," Rhaegar said with a lightugh. The dragon he rode was a predator, a true beast of battle. The pirates posed little threat unless, like Queen Rhaenys during the Conquest, he was unlucky enough to be struck by a scorpion bolt.

 Chapter 146: Crushing Air Raid

    Chapter 146: Crushing Air Raid


    The aunt and nephew quickly made their decision and sprang into action. The Sea Snake deployed a small team to leave the harbor first, heading toward the Stepstones under the guise of a routine patrol.


    Rhaenys and Rhaegar slipped out of the castle, making their way to find their dragons. Several dragons now resided on Driftmark.


    Among them, the most noticeable was Caraxes, who had crawled from the shallow beach to the rocks.


    This red dragon, known as the Blood Wyrm, was badly injured, with one wing broken and scales missing all over his body. Despite the severity of his wounds, the dragon''s impressive resilience had saved his life.


    Due to his wing injury, Caraxes had temporarily lost the ability to fly. He now relied on soldiers to feed him cattle and sheep. Once healed, he would be returned to the Dragonpit or Dragonstone Ind.


    ...


    Shortly after, Rhaegar mounted the saddle on the Cannibal and rushed to the eastern coastline to meet up with Rhaenys. Meleys''ir was there, undisturbed and perfect for catchingrge deep-sea fish.


    "Roar..." The Cannibal roared and leapt into the air, leading the way out of Driftmark. Meleys, the fastest dragon in history, followed swiftly, her powerful wings cutting through the air as she caught up.


    The two dragons soared together for a while before Meleys, like a red lightning bolt, overtook the Cannibal. Despite his efforts, the Cannibal struggled to match her speed."No wonder Aunt Rhaenys is so confident," Rhaegar thought, watching the red dragon with awe.


    After about an hour, Meleys slowed, allowing the Cannibal to catch up, and the two dragons flew side by side. Below them, a rocky ind emerged from the endless sea, appearing like scattered pieces of rubble on a blue canvas.


    "Rhaegar, this is the Stepstones," Rhaenys called out clearly from Meleys'' back.


    Rhaegar looked down at the dense, scattered inds below. It was his first time seeing the Stepstones, a significant and contested location in the Narrow Sea.


    The Stepstones were once part of the Arm of Dorne, connecting Westeros to thend of Essos.


    Thousands of years ago, the old Valyrian Freehold invaded the cities of Essos, enving many, including the ancestors of the First Men.


    Overwhelmed, the First Men invaded Westeros from the Arm of Dorne, then ruled by the Children of the Forest and the Giants. The Children used powerful magic to shatter the Arm of Dorne, creating the Stepstones.


    Located between the Broken Arm of Dorne and the Disputed Lands, the Stepstones became a haven for pirates.


    The free cities of Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh frequently fought for control of these inds. When the three cities united to form the Triarchy, they annexed the Stepstones and swept away the pirates.


    However, the Triarchy''s navy was worse than the pirates, imposing high tolls, abducting women and boys for brothels, and robbing ships.


    This was one of the reasons the Sea Snake joined Daemon in the First Battle of the Stepstones.


    "A strategic location, right in the middle of two continents on the main navigational route," Rhaegar mused, realizing why the Stepstones were so fiercely contested.


    It was no wonder wars were fought here year after year.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal suddenly let out a cry, turning its head toward the southeast corner of the ind.


    "You smell blood?" Rhaegar asked, bing serious.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal responded by pping its wings and heading in the direction of the scent. Rhaegar called out to Rhaenys, and the two dragons flew together.


    "Be quick, cut down these wimps!"


    "This is thest ship of the day, hurry up and grab it..."


    The sounds of shouting and fighting grew louder as they approached a hidden cove where several bloodstained ships were anchored.


    As Cannibal arrived overhead, Rhaegar saw pirates swarming onto arge ship, smashing and looting it while attacking its defenders.


    "Shall we intervene, Aunt?" Rhaegar asked, frowning at the scene below.


    "Watch out for stray arrows and make sure your dragon flies high enough!" Rhaenys warned before diving down on Meleys.


    "Dracarys!" she cried out.


    Meleys unleashed a torrent of scarlet mes, incinerating the looting pirates. Their screams filled the air as they turned to charred corpses.


    Rhaegar, initially stunned,ughed. "Cannibal, stay alert for hidden arrows. Let''s join the fray!"


    "Roar..."


    The smell of blood had roused Cannibal''s aggression. With a roar, the dragon dived, wings outstretched.


    Boom...


    Green dragonfire erupted from Cannibal, raining down on the pirates jumping into the sea.


    "Cannibal, target that pirate ship and sink it!" Rhaegarmanded, directing Cannibal toward thergest vessel.


    "It''s a dragon! Watch out for the dragonfire! Shoot arrows!" the pirate leader shouted, rallying his men.


    The pirates, though terrified, obeyed and loosed their arrows at the dragons.


    In a sh, arrows rained down. Meleys, agile and swift, ascended before the arrows struck, leaving a trail of dragonfire that set the ship''s mast aze.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal, more domineering, faced the arrows head-on, spewing a torrent of mes that turned the projectiles to ash and molten metal. This level of attack was no match for a dragon.


    "Retreat! Abandon the supplies and get back to the ship!" the pirate leader shouted, fear in his voice as he ran back to the ship,manding the helmsman to set sail.


    Boom!


    Rhaegar wasn''t about to let them escape. Cannibal swooped down, unleashing a torrent of dragonfire that engulfed the warship.


    "Ah!..."


    In moments, the ship was aze, the mes consuming it as the pirates'' screams of agony filled the air.


    Whoosh...


    A sudden gust of wind whistled past, and a steel spear shot out from the darkness.


    "Cannibal, left wing down!" Rhaegar shouted, spotting the spear in time.


    Cannibal sensed the danger and deftly adjusted its flight path, narrowly avoiding the spear.


    Rhaegar scanned the area and spotted a small, inconspicuous ind with another pirate ship lurking behind it.


    "Cannibal, burn them all!" hemanded, his voice cold as he red at the pirate shipunching arrows.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared and pped its wings, heading towards the target.


    Whoosh...


    Seeing the dragon approach, the pirates frantically reloaded their scorpion crossbows and fired more steel spears.


    Cannibal''s eyes shed with disdain as it easily tilted its body to dodge the second spear.


    "Dracarys!" Rhaegar ordered.


    While dodging the projectiles, Cannibal flew above the pirate ship and unleashed a torrent of dragonfire, engulfing the vessel in mes.

 Chapter 147: Unexpected Gain

    Chapter 147: Unexpected Gain


    Boom...


    The pirate ship nearly capsized under the intense spray of dragonfire. The mast snapped in the middle, crashing down.


    The sailor manning the scorpion crossbow didn''t have a chance to dodge and was crushed beneath the falling mast, his body incinerated by the mes.


    "Keep burning, sink the whole ship!" Rhaegarmanded, urging Cannibal to continue its fiery assault.


    With the threat of the scorpion crossbow neutralized, Cannibal hovered in the air, unbothered by the remaining arrows, and bathed the entire pirate ship in green dragonfire.


    Rhaegar sat in his saddle, vigntly scanning for any escaping enemies. It was his first encounter with the fearsome pirates of the Triarchy, and he was determined not to let his guard down. The only way to ensure victory was topletely engulf the ship in mes.


    After a while, Rhaenys arrived on Meleys and called out, "Rhaegar, are you alright?"


    "I''m fine, but I did spot a scorpion crossbow," Rhaegar replied, signaling Cannibal to stop its onught. Below them, the pirate ship was reduced to a smoldering wreck.


    "You''re so cautious," Rhaenys remarked, tugging on Meleys'' reins as she surveyed the devastation below. The ship waspletely incinerated, with not a single pirate or weapon left intact."It''s good to be cautious," Rhaegar said with a grin, steering Cannibal towards the merchant ship that had been rescued.


    Rhaenys nodded and guided her dragon to follow.


    Back on the remote ind where the battle had taken ce, the remnants of the pirate ship continued to burn, with the dragonfire consuming everything.


    The merchant ship nearby had also been affected, with its hull scorched and its canvas still smoldering.


    Poof!


    A charred hatch burst open, and a group of emaciated, unclothed people scrambled out.


    "The ve traders are dead, let''s run!"


    "Blessed be the Lord of Light, the mes purify the sins..."


    This ragged group,prised of the old and young, men and women, fled in panic.


    "Are these people ves?" Rhaegar''s face darkened, his voice turning cold at the mention of ve traders.


    Westeros vehemently opposed very, and the ve trade was forbidden. This was his first encounter with a ve ship.


    "ves exist everywhere, except in Westeros and Braavos where very is explicitly ouwed," Rhaenys responded, her tone muted and her brow furrowed in distaste.


    Having traveled extensively with her husband''s fleet, she had witnessed the harsh realities of very, especially in ces like Lys, Myr, Tyrosh, and ver''s Bay, where ves were treated like livestock.


    "Shall we go down and take a look?" Rhaenys suggested, noting Rhaegar''s revulsion.


    "Good idea. This ship won''tst long. Let''s transfer these people to another merchant ship," Rhaegar agreed, guiding Cannibal to lower its altitude.


    "Dragonlord... Dragonlord..." The ves fell to their knees, bowing in fear as the dragon approached.


    The Dragonlord families of old Valyria still haunted the memories of Essos.


    Rhaegar called out loudly, "Where are you from, and where were you being taken?"


    "Great Dragonlord, we were sold from all over the world, and this ship was bound for Pentos," an elderly, gaunt man replied, his voice raspy.


    "Pentos?" Rhaegar was taken aback.


    Pentos, a free city, had an agreement with Braavos to prohibit ve trading. However, it wasn''t unusual for Pentos to covertly defy this ban, as it wasn��t bounded by Westerosi ideals.


    Rhaegar pondered this, realizing that despite surface agreements, the reality of very continued in the shadows.


    As Rhaegar was deep in thought, a man crawled out from among the kneeling ves, trying to sneak away.


    "He''s a pirate!" someone shouted, exposing the escapee.


    Before the pirate could react, the surrounding ves stormed him, subduing him with punches and kicks.


    Rhaegar watched coldly, not intervening. He had already sensed something was off about this man��the other ves were all thin, but he was robust and strong.


    Suddenly, the sound of a sharp de piercing flesh echoed, and the attacking ves scattered in panic.


    Rhaegar looked over.


    A thin, young girl stood up, holding a dagger in one hand and the pirate''s severed head in the other.


    ng...


    The girl dropped the dagger, her chest heaving slightly, and she stepped forward. The other ves moved aside to let her pass.


    When she reached a group of ves, she fell to her knees, holding the pirate''s head low without a word.


    Rhaegar studied her. She was as thin as a reed, with messy ck hair and a pale, exotic face.


    "What''s your name?" Rhaegar was intrigued by her swiftness in killing.


    "Sara," the girl''s voice was hoarse, and she looked weak.


    "Are you also a ve?"


    "I haven''t been sold," Sara replied, her voice faltering between words.


    Rhaegar nced at the girl among the ves and instructed, "Take care of her for now. A fleet will take you away tonight."


    She had guts, but Rhaegar had no time for trivial matters at the moment.


    "Great Dragonlord, where will the fleet take us?" the dry, thin old man asked with trepidation.


    Rhaegar paused and looked up at Rhaenys. These folks weren''t ves for sale or resettlement.


    Seeing his difficulty, Rhaenys stepped in, "First, we''ll transport them to Driftmark. Those who can''t find work there will be sent to King''s Landing."


    She was experienced in such matters. ves often included women, children, youngborers, and various craftsmen. In a stable environment, they could find a way to live.


    "Good, let''s do that," Rhaegar agreed, preparing to return to Driftmark.


    "Wait!" the foreign girl hurriedly spoke up, excitedly saying, "Honorable Prince, I have a treasure to present to you.''"


    Rhaegar paused, intrigued. "Oh? What kind of treasure?"


    There were several merchant ships in the vicinity, and it was uncertain what kind of treasure might be found among them. His explorer''s system missions required such treasures of long tradition or rare materials.


    "It''s a longsword made of Valyrian steel!" the young girl answered immediately.


    Rhaegar''s eyes lit up with excitement. A Valyrian steel longsword was worth a fortune, and there were few in all of Westeros. Moreover, Valyrian steel contained magic, which, with certain experiences, could trigger an explorer''s mission.


    "Valyrian steel longsword? Where is it?" Rhaegar asked eagerly.


    "In the ve master''s cabin. He used that sword to demonstrate its sharpness by chopping off the head of a female ve," Sara said weakly.


    The thin old man was shocked by the news and hurriedly urged the stronger men around him, "Quickly, find that sword for the Dragonlord."


    The other ves rushed into the ruined cabin, searching everywhere despite the burning wood. Soon, they overturned a charred body, and a long, dark sword fell beside it.


    The thin old man retrieved the sword and used a piece of hemp cloth to carefully wipe away the ashes, revealing the true appearance of the Valyrian steel longsword.

 Chapter 148: The Old Shipwright

    Chapter 148: The Old Shipwright


    "Great Dragonlord, only your kindness and wisdom are worthy of this precious sword," the frail old man said, struggling to lift the Valyrian Steel Longsword with both hands.


    The effort made his body tremble, indicating the sword��s considerable weight.


    Seeing the Valyrian Steel Longsword, Rhaegar''s heart surged with excitement. He leaped from Cannibal''s back andnded with a thud beside the charred remains of the pirate leader.


    Despite the foul smell emanating from the charred armor, Rhaegar��s eyes were fixed on the sword as he approached the old man.


    As Rhaegar took the sword into his hands, he paused, a smile spreading across his face. "It''s actually a greatsword!" he eximed.


    Swords came in various types, and this one was particrly special. Themon ones were hand-and-a-half swords, like ckfyre, the standard sword of his house. But greatswords, longswords, shortswords��they all had their unique attributes.


    It was said that the Starks of the North possessed a Valyrian steel greatsword named Ice, passed down through generations.


    Rhaegar examined the charred hilt and the de, his fingers tracing the palm-sized surface. Though the sword��s surface was ckened by dragonfire, the distinctive water-patterned steel of Valyria shone through. The material was exceptional.


    The wooden handle was burned and worn, and the de bore the scars of numerous battles, its edges chipped and pitted."The quest is now open: Retrieve the lost Valyrian steel greatsword," the system beeped in Rhaegar��s mind. He grinned, summoning the system interface.


    [Lost Valyrian Steel Greatsword]


    Exploration Progress: 0.5%


    "Thanks to these pirates, I��ve acquired a Valyrian steel greatsword," Rhaegar thought, gripping the hilt with both hands. He swung the sword twice, testing its bnce and weight.


    "It��s a bit heavy, not ideal for prolongedbat," he mused.


    With the relic [True Dragon''s Blood], Rhaegar��s physical abilities far surpassed those of ordinary men, enhancing his endurance and strength. His current sword, Dark Sister, was originally designed for women��long, thin, and increasingly inadequate for his needs.


    This Valyrian steel greatsword could rece Dark Sister.


    Overjoyed with his new sword and the quest it presented, Rhaegar felt a surge of gratitude. He pointed to the young girl who had brought him the sword. "Take good care of her. If she can''t find work, she cane with me to King''s Landing."


    This sword had been delivered to him by this ve ship, and he felt a responsibility to help these destitute people.


    Wrapping the greatsword in a piece of bup, Rhaegar secured it to his back.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal, sensing Rhaegar''s intention, lowered his altitude to allow Rhaegar to climb the softdder draped around his neck.


    As the dragon and his rider ascended into the sky, Rhaenys eyed the heavy sword cradled in Rhaegar''s arms with envy. "You really are lucky," she remarked.


    Valyrian steel, a magical product from the ancient Valyrian Freehold, was exceedingly rare. When the Doom befell Valyria, the secrets of forging Valyrian steel were lost, along with most of its creations.


    Today, only a handful of Valyrian steel artifacts remained.


    A heavy Valyrian steel sword was a priceless treasure.


    "Thank you for letting me go," Rhaegar said with a genuine smile. "With this sword, House Targaryen gains another ancestral weapon."


    "These ves presented the sword to you, not me," Rhaenys teased, her head held high. "Just don''t let Corlys see it; he''ll go mad with envy."


    House Vryon had a long history dating back to Valyria, though it was once a minor noble house.


    Many years ago, the Vryons possessed a Valyrian steel weapon��a scimitar called Sea Foam. It was lost on a voyage, leaving House Vryon without a Valyrian steel heirloom.


    The Targaryens, also of Valyrian descent, were among the most prominent Dragonlords, possessing the ancestral swords ckfyre and Dark Sister, as well as the lesser-known Dragonhorn Dagger.


    House Celtigar was rumored to have a Valyrian steel battle axe.


    House Vryon, however, had no such weapon.


    The Sea Snake, Lord Corlys Vryon, had sailed around the world, harboring dreams of acquiring a Valyrian steel weapon. Unfortunately, his dream had yet to be realized.


    Rhaegar''s grin widened. "I can''t wait to see Lord Corlys'' envious and jealous expression."


    The sword was now his, and no one could take it away.


    He relished the thought of unting it in front of the cunning old man, Corlys.


    Rhaenys shook her head,ughing at her nephew''s antics. "I don''t want to talk to you, you lucky devil."


    Rhaegar issued orders for the boatload of ves to wait. Then, the dragons and Rhaenys returned to Driftmark.


    ...


    The feast on Driftmarksted for several days and concluded sessfully.


    One by one, therge ships that had brought the guests began to depart from the harbor, returning to their respective inds.


    A sizable ship with seahorse sails was anchored in the harbor, with sailors maintaining order andborers loading supplies.


    "Prince, the Stepstones Inds are scattered and disorganized. My family''s fleet can only set up defenses on Bloodstone Ind. Any wider area is out of reach," Sea Snake reported in a low voice as he stood on the pier, watching the goods being transported onto the ship.


    Rhaegar stood beside him, nodding in understanding. "To fortify the entire Stepstones Inds, we would need watchtowers, fleet patrols, and soldiers stationed at fortresses. It''s beyond the capabilities of House Vryon alone."


    The Stepstones consisted primarily of tworge inds: Bloodstone Ind and Gray Gallows Ind.


    In thest battle of the Stepstones Inds, the pirates of the Triarchy had defended these two inds, avoiding direct conflict and dying the battle indefinitely.


    Currently, the Triarchy had not yet captured the inds, presenting an opportunity for the kingdom to send troops and repair the defense fortifications.


    "When we return to King''s Landing, I will inform my father of the situation," Rhaegar said. "I''ll strive to secure funds from the treasury to fully arm the Stepstones Inds and bring them under the kingdom''s protection."


    As they spoke, a group of bare-chested old shipwrights disembarked from the ship, apanied by their apprentices, and approached the two men.


    "Lord Corlys, the ship''s inspection isplete, and everything is in order," reported a short, stout, silver-haired old shipwright respectfully.


    Sea Snake nced at him and nodded. "Thank you, Master Hammer."


    "Yes, Lord Corlys," Master Hammer replied, ustomed to his lord''s condescension. He then led hispanions away.


    With no outsiders to disturb them, Sea Snake and Rhaegar continued their discussion about the defense of the Inds.


    "Prince, we should take action as soon as possible. The pirates of the Triarchy could invade the Stepstones Inds at any moment," Sea Snake advised. "Without proper defenses, we risk repeating the failures of thest battle."


    Sea Snake''s analysis was sound and highlighted the urgency of the situation.


    Rhaegar listened attentively, scanning the harbor. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the short, stout old shipwright, Master Hammer, squatting in front of a stall selling oranges, bargaining with the vendor. Beside him were two small figures.


    Two little boys with silver-blonde hair and dark skin.


    They reminded Rhaegar of the bastards he had seen on Dragonstone.


    As the seat of House Targaryen, Dragonstone had many bastards, with blood rtions often tangled.


    It was surprising to see that even the traditionally old-fashioned and noble House Vryon had its share of bastards.

 Chapter 149: Otto’s Appointment

    Chapter 149: Otto��s Appointment


    The transportation of goods waspleted, and Rhaegar and Rhaenyra arrived with dozens of ves in tow.


    Rhaenyra looked exhausted, holding her forehead. "We left behind many elderly, women, and young men. The rest are mainly children and craftsmen."


    Driftmark, being rtively prosperous, offered opportunities for the elderly and women to engage in handicrafts and for the young men to find work lifting and carrying at the pier.


    However, the children could not fend for themselves, and with no orphanage on Driftmark, they would have to follow therger ships back to King''s Landing.


    The craftsmen, on the other hand, had a choice: stay on Driftmark or follow the Dragonlord who had saved them. With their skills, they wouldn''tck work anywhere.


    "Thank you for your hard work. Let''s leave as soon as everyone is on board," Rhaegar said warmly, squeezing Rhaenyra''s shoulders appreciatively.


    "Hmph, go find Aegon. Who knows whose bed he''s in tonight," Rhaenyra retorted, clearly irritated by Aegon''s infamous behavior.


    Rhaegar''s expression darkened slightly, reflecting his distaste for Aegon''s indiscretions. The thought of his brother''s questionable taste in women cast a shadow over his mood.


    ...With all preparationsplete, the Sea Snake boarded the great ship and set sail. Meanwhile, the dragon riders mounted their dragons and flew ahead to King''s Landing.


    As the day wore on, the dragons arrived at the Dragonpit. Maynard, the Dragonpit Maester, led the Dragonkeepers forward, greeting them joyfully, "Prince, we are happy for your safe return."


    "Nothing happened recently, right?" Rhaegar asked casually as he dismounted from the dragon.


    Maynard nced at the listless Aegon and cautiously replied, "The king has appointed the former Hand of the King, Otto Hightower, as the Master of Civil Affairs, a new advisor position. He will return to King''s Landing to take up his post in the next few days."


    "A good thing, I expected it," Rhaegar said with a yful smile. He had dyed asking about the street-cleaning program, anticipating Otto would take the lead and relieve some pressure from him. Now it seemed his n was falling into ce. Alicent''s influence on the king was certainly effective.


    Rhaenyra, stretching and looking weary, interrupted, "Are you done talking? It''s been cold all day, and I need to go back and take a hot shower."


    "It''s not my fault. You and Aegon''s dragons are too slow. If I hadn''t waited for you, I would have been back as early as Aunt Rhaenys," Rhaegar teased, taking her hand. They left Aegon, who was struggling with fatigue, to take the carriage back to the Red Keep.


    ...


    The next day, the Sea Snake''s fleet crossed ckwater Bay and arrived at the harbor of King''s Landing.


    As the heir, Rhaegar personally went to meet them. The Sea Snakemanded the sailors to unload the royal supplies from the ship, one box after another, and exined, "Several dozen ves also disembarked. You can take them away."


    With that, the sailors brought out the ves. Rhaegar nodded appreciatively, "Thank you, Lord Corlys."


    Erryk, one of the guards, stepped forward to lead the group away. The children would be nurtured as future citizens of the kingdom, and the artisans, whose skills were invaluable, would be put to good use.


    After leaving the harbor, the Sea Snake, apanied by his wife and eldest son, made their way to the Red Keep in grand fashion. Along the way, Rhaenys informed him about Laena''s situation. She was safe and well-cared-for in the Red Keep, with several maids and nannies under Alicent''s personal supervision.


    In the Red Keep, King Viserys had prepared a grand feast to wee House Vryon. In fact, the Red Keep had been hosting banquets for the past few days. First, they weed Laena and Rhaenys, followed by Laenor and his family.


    At the banquet, all the advisers raised their sses and celebrated with great enthusiasm. No one brought up the matter of the Stepstones, ensuring the feast concluded smoothly and joyfully.


    ...


    Nightfall.


    Rhaegar left the banquet early and returned to his room alone. He sat at the round table, took out the Valyrian steel heavy sword, and began to habitually stroke it, his mind filled with anticipation.


    He summoned his system interface and checked the records of the previous day''s exploration.


    [Lost Valyrian Steel Heavy Sword]


    Exploration Progress: 100%


    "This exploration isplete. Please pick up the lost treasure."


    "Relic retrieved sessfully. Checking..."


    "Detection sessful. Judged to be an excellent grade relic: Sword of the Nameless."


    The small letters at the bottom of the screen prompted, "An ancient relic returned to the hands of the an ancient bloodline. It needs a resounding name."


    Rhaegar''s fingers traced the bumpy de as he mused, "The heavy sword is made of Valyrian steel, but it isn''t as prestigious a relic as Dark Sister?"


    He pondered the difference. Dark Sister had been a Targaryen House sword for generations, steeped in legendary history.


    Its storied past elevated its status. The Valyrian steel heavy sword, while of excellent material,cked such a background and a legendary name. This, he concluded, was why it was deemed inferior in the system''s exploration hierarchy.


    Over the years, Rhaegar tried numerous explorations within the Red Keep.


    He had examined the remains of Meraxes and Quicksilver, just like he did with Balerion''s skull.


    He had even sat on the Iron Throne, wearing Aegon the Conqueror''s ck iron crown. Yet, none of these triggered an Explorer''s Quest.


    Rhaegar theorized that Meraxes and Quicksilver had died too young to became a relic.


    The Iron Throne and the ck iron crown, though significant, had been cast for over a century andcked the ancient resonance needed for a exploration trigger.


    He realized there was only one item in the Red Keep that could truly trigger an Exploration Quest: ckfyre, the Targaryen House sword carried by his father, Viserys.


    When he asked for it under the pretext of observation, his father said it was too early and promised to hand it over when Rhaegar came of age.


    Rhaegar had been disappointed but decided not to push the matter. In the meantime, he had collected exotic treasures and antiques from Westeros and the Free Cities.


    Despite his efforts and expenses, only a few of these items had triggered exploration quests. He had almost depleted his mushroom caravan funds in the process.


    Knock, knock...


    A soft knocking came from the door, followed by Rhaenyra''s voice.


    "Rhaegar, I''ming in."


    Creak...


    The door opened, and Rhaenyra, wearing a striking red dress, strode into the room. Rhaegar looked up with a smile. "The banquet is over. I thought you would still be dancing."


    "Helping Alicent organize the banquet was exhausting enough. I had no energy left to dance," Rhaenyra replied, copsing onto the bed.


    She nced at the Valyrian steel heavy sword in Rhaegar''s hands and asked curiously, "I heard you asked the Sea Snake to invite skilled craftsmen from Qohor. Are you nning to recast this sword?"


    The production process of Valyrian steel had been lost, but the master cksmiths of Qohor were known for their ability to recast Valyrian steel.


    "Yes, the de is blunt, and it''s too heavy," Rhaegar said, swinging the heavy sword twice. Its weight was impractical for continuous battlefield fighting.


    He had decided it would be better to recast it into a hand-and-a-half sword of the right weight, then give the newly forged Valyrian steel sword a fitting name as the system hinted and collect it as a relic.


    Rhaenyra tapped her lips thoughtfully but showed little interest. As a woman, she had no ce on the battlefield and wouldn''t need the best weapon.


    After a moment, she said, "There will be a council meeting tomorrow to discuss the alliance between the Crown and House Vryon."

 Chapter 150: The Faith of the Seven’s Small Actions

    Chapter 150: The Faith of the Seven��s Small Actions


    "It''s only natural that we must draw in allies before the war," Rhaegar said, unfazed by the news.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes gleamed as she added mysteriously, "I''ve heard some new information: Otto is returning to King''s Landing."


    "This was already known," Rhaegar replied, puzzled.


    "No, there''s more. Besides Otto, the High Septon of the Faith of the Seven will be apanying him," Rhaenyra said seriously.


    "There are more and more followers of the Seven Gods in Flea Bottom. Rumors about the war are spreading, and the people are beginning to show signs of rejecting House Vryon."


    "Otto''s alliance with the Faith is to incite the people?" Rhaegar frowned, dismissing the tactic as a minor annoyance.


    "I have to admit, it''s a clever move," Rhaenyra said, annoyed. "The Faith of the Seven have always been adept at causing trouble for the royal family. Public opinion can be extremely influential."


    "It''s fine, I''ll shut them up," Rhaegar said after a moment of thought, deciding how to handle the matter. With war approaching, he needed to ensure stability within the realm and prevent anyone from undermining their efforts.


    Rhaegar set the heavy sword aside and stood up. "I''m going out. You should rest.""Where are you going?" Rhaenyra asked, surprised.


    "To find a good helper," Rhaegar replied, leaving the room with Erryk, who had been guarding the door.


    ...


    Inside the banquet hall, the nobles were singing and dancing, each seeking a partner to dance with.


    In stark contrast, the dungeon of the Red Keep was dark and damp, with creepy crawlies everywhere.


    "Prince, you don''t need toe in person," Erryk, dressed in ck, advised as he followed Rhaegar into the dungeon.


    Rhaegar, also dressed in ck robes, surveyed the dungeon environment himself, walking deeper into its depths. Erryk sent the guards away and hurriedly followed him.


    Before long, they arrived at the far end of the dungeon.


    The sound of chains clinking echoed through the narrow, dark corridors.


    Rhaegar approached a single cell, peering inside.


    "Prince, I didn''t expect you toe and see me in person," Syrio said, surprised to see Rhaegar.


    Syrio had assumed the prince didn''t care if he lived or died. Though Rhaegar would asionally take him out for training, he was usually locked up without a second thought.


    Rhaegar nced around the cell, noting its rtivefort. It was dry, clean, and had a mattress��far better than the public cells.


    Syrio looked as he always did, with his fluffy brown curls, unkempt stubble, and a perpetual smile.


    "It''s time to redeem yourself for your past mistakes. I''m going to let you out," Rhaegar said with a smile.


    "Oh? And what do you have in mind for me?" Syrio asked, intrigued.


    After years in the dungeon, he was eager for a change.


    "I want you to form an intelligence organization and train some killers," Rhaegar said bluntly.


    Syrio, hailing from Braavos and known for his water dancing, was ustomed to fighting and assassination. Rhaegar intended to use those skills.


    "Thank you for your trust. I won''t let you down," Syrio replied decisively, holding out his shackled hands.


    Rhaegar signaled to Erryk, who stepped forward to unlock the chains with a key he had prepared in advance.


    As this was happening, Rhaegar turned and spotted another familiar face in the corner of the dungeon.


    "Uncle, how are you holding up?" he asked.


    In another single cell, Daemony on his bed, shackled hand and foot.


    Rhaegar nced around Daemon''s cell, noting a chair, a toilet, and heavy bedding��special provisions.


    Daemon rolled over, turning his back to Rhaegar, and remained silent.


    On the first day of his imprisonment, his brother Viserys had visited, berating and degrading him, almost to the point of execution. Since then, he had been left to rot.


    "Never mind, you clearly don''t want to see me," Rhaegar said.


    With Syrio freed, Rhaegar decided not to press Daemon further and led the way out of the dungeon. He had more pressing matters to attend to.


    After dropping Syrio off at the Dragonpit, Rhaegar returned to his room. When he pushed open the door, the candles had long been extinguished.


    After a busy day, he felt the weight of exhaustion. He took off his shirt and slipped into bed. The quilt was warm, and he leaned into the fragrant softness, quickly falling into a deep sleep.


    ...


    The next day, early in the morning.


    Cole knocked on Rhaegar''s door to let him know that the king had called a royal meeting.


    Rhaegar, still sleepy-eyed, hurriedly ate a quick breakfast before heading to the meeting.


    "Keep your cor neat. Today''s meeting is important," Rhaenyra said, adjusting his wrinkled attire with a worried look.


    Rhaegar let her fuss over him while he silently chewed his bread.


    "You should be thanking me," Rhaenyra muttered in exasperation, rolling her eyes.


    Although she was enjoying herself, this was supposed to be Alicent''s duty.


    When they arrived at the entrance to the council chambers, they could hear Tnd''s voice through the thick wooden door.


    "Your Grace, the Stepstones is and of constant conflict. The money spent on warring, building fortresses, and maintaining them will be astronomical."


    The two siblings exchanged a nce, sharing a look of helplessness.


    In addition to the bravery of soldiers, the most important aspect of war is logistics and provisions. Once the war started, money would be spent like water.


    "Prince, Princess," Ser Steffon, the Kingsguard guarding the doorway, greeted them and personally pushed open the wooden door.


    The meeting suddenly came to a halt.


    Rhaegar walked into the hall and took a look around.


    As usual, the former advisers to the realm and his father, Viserys, were there. Rhaegar took note of the three new chairs at the table.


    Besides the one he had secured for Rhaenyra, the remaining two were presumably for the Sea Snake and his wife.


    Taking his seat, Rhaegar looked at Tnd, who was standing in front of the table, and asked, "Did I arrive before Lord Corlys?"


    "The Kingsguard just went to call him. He is on his way," Tnd answered honestly.


    Rhaegar didn''t mind. Last night''s banquet hadsted veryte, making it understandably difficult for the elderly to get up early.


    "While Lord Corlys is not here yet, we should address any urgent matters," Rhaegar suggested, thinking of the impact of the war and deciding to discuss it first.


    He picked up a stone ball and yed with it in his hand.


    "Prince, this is my estimated war damage report," Tnd said, handing over a prepared list.


    Rhaegar epted it politely.


    Viserys, looking weary and in poor spirits, leaned back in his chair. "Lord Lyonel, you go first," he said, unable to sleep at night with the thought of the impending war.


    Lyonel stood up and began his analysis. "Your Grace, in the face of the Three Daughters'' advance, we should mobilize as many of the kingdom''s lords as possible to support our troops."


    "The Stornds are the closest to the Stepstones Inds. Lord Baratheon will definitely give his full support," Lyonel continued.


    "Boremund is Rhaenys''s uncle, and he has always been a staunch supporter of the Crown," Viserys agreed.


    "In addition, the Rivends, the Vale, and the Westends will all be able to mobilize soldiers to supplement our strength," Lyonel suggested.

 Chapter 151: Unrest in the Seven Kingdoms

    Chapter 151: Unrest in the Seven Kingdoms


    "Imagination is beautiful, but reality often falls short of expectations."


    Just as Lyonel finished speaking, the Master of Laws Jasper stood up with a grave expression.


    Viserys cast a nce at him and asked, "Why do you say that, Lord Jasper?"


    Though not as dignified and forceful as his grandfather Jaehaerys, Viserys had no problem gathering his bannermen to defend the kingdom.


    "Your Grace, war is a terrible machine that affects the entire body, and the kingdom''s enemies are not only the pirates of the Triarchy."


    Jasper said solemnly, "ording to intelligence, Prince Martell of Dorne is likely to renew his alliance with the Three Daughters and lead his army to join the front battlefield."


    "The Ironborn of the Iron Inds are also eager to take part, moving frequently around Lannisport in an attempt to disembark and pige."


    "How can this be?"


    Viserys was taken aback and looked to Lyonel and Tnd."Yes, Your Grace." Lyonel replied.


    "My brother even wrote to me recently that some Ironborn tried to infiltrate Lannisport. He caught and executed them."


    Tnd showed a troubled expression and spoke the truth.


    The Ironborn have always been a thorn in Lannister''s side.


    "So, it is difficult for the West to provide help?"


    Viserys grimaced, somewhat displeased.


    "Rest your anger, Your Grace," Tnd said nervously, "The situation in the Vale is not good. The mountain ns led by the Stone Crows tribe are causing turmoil everywhere. Lady Jeyne is overwhelmed."


    Lyonel immediately followed, "In the Rivends, the Bracken and ckwood Houses are in conflict over boundary stones. They have been killing each other''s people, with tensions escting towards war."


    Viserys froze at the words.


    "Damn it, the kingdom was peaceful all day long, but now that a war is looming, turmoil erupts everywhere!"


    Bad news after bad news left Viserys so angry he leaned back in his chair, panting.


    First, there was Dorne, a constant thorn in the kingdom''s side. Then the Ironborn, who only knew how to burn and pige. Now, even the Vale and Rivends were in trouble.


    At this rate, rebels would be at the gates of the Red Keep by the time he woke up tomorrow morning!


    "Father, don''t worry. It''s not as serious as you think."


    Rhaenyra hurriedly walked behind Viserys and patted his back.


    Her father had been born in a time of peace, and the sudden war was putting him under great stress.


    Rhaenyra was afraid he wouldn''t be able to cope.


    The advisers looked at each other in disbelief, all worried about theing war.


    Rhaegar looked around the room, frowning as he saw the anxiety in their faces.


    "My lords, the war has yet toe. Do not be overly pessimistic."


    He knocked on the tabletop to draw attention to himself.


    "Prince, what is your advice?"


    The Master of Coin, Lyman Beesbury, who had been silent all this time, spoke slowly and with great solemnity.


    Beesbury, an old man loyal to the royal family all his life, was one of the people who wanted peace in the kingdom the most.


    Rhaegar put down the stone ball and sat upright. Cowardice before battle was a taboo. As the heir, he had to say something insightful to boost morale.


    Rhaegar took a moment to contemte, then spoke with a steady and confident voice, "My lords, Westeros has a long history of conflicts. During my great-grandfather Jaehaerys'' reign, the kingdom enjoyed a period of peace."


    "And it has remained so for decades now," he continued. "During these peaceful decades, the people of the kingdom have thrived, but many issues,rge and small, have been hidden beneath the surface."


    "It is not necessarily a bad thing that these issues reappear with the threat of war," he asserted. "Only when the hidden tumors of the kingdom are revealed can we cut them out!"


    His voice was strong and assured, and his words resonated with reason.


    The advisers were silent and lowered their heads, understanding the truth in his words.


    In their high positions, they knew well that peace had dulled their vignce, making them fearful at the prospect of war.


    "Rhaegar, what you say is very reasonable. In the face of war, how should the kingdom respond?" Viserys, looking haggard, asked, his eyes full of expectation and gratitude for his eldest son.


    As a king who had only known peace, Viserys felt ill-equipped to organize a war. Fortunately, his son possessed a temperament akin to his grandfather''s and great-grandfather''s, capable of handling the pressure.


    Rhaegar''s gaze fell on Tnd and Jasper as he said, "Thest time there was a conflict in the Stepstones, Dorne allied with the Triarchy, clearly revealing their rebellious intentions."


    "Now that the Triarchy is back, the Dornish will certainly not stand by without meddling in the war."


    "Should we send a messenger to negotiate with Prince Martell of Dorne?" Tnd hesitated.


    "Send a messenger, but do not count on it too much," Rhaegar replied. "The Triarchy is fighting a foreign war far overseas, while Dorne is on the continent of Westeros."


    "If war breaks out in the Stepstones and the Prince of Dorne leads his army to the border, the kingdom must be prepared in advance."


    Rhaegar signaled Cole to fetch a map of the continent and began analyzing it step by step.


    "There are three paths for Dorne to invade the kingdom: the Prince''s Pass, the Boneway, and the sea."


    Pointing to a spot on the map, Rhaegar said seriously, "The Boneway has rugged terrain, making it difficult to advance arge number of troops. The Dondarrion House in ckhaven should send troops to guard this road."


    "The Prince''s Pass has always been Dorne''s first choice for invading the kingdom. House Tyrell in Highgarden should send heavy troops to set up a defensive line there."


    "And as for the sea, we can basically rule it out. Communicate with the Stornds and ask Lord Boremund to set up a naval defense, supported by Vryon''s patrol fleet. That way the Prince of Dorne won''t make any rash moves."


    "Dorne is like a pack of hungry wolves, always trying to take a bite out of the kingdom," Viserys spat, visibly calming as he listened to his son''s organized analysis.


    Hand of the King Lyonel spoke up, "Your Grace, the Prince''s defense is thorough. With his bannermen''s support, Dorne won''t be able to cause much trouble."


    Rhaegar''s statement was logical and based on the defense and attack strategy dating back to Aegon the Conqueror''s time. More importantly, his words boosted the advisers'' morale.


    Tnd quickly found Lannisport on the map and said, "The Ironborn have been plundering us for years. My brother can cope if we send heavy troops to guard the harbor."


    The Ironborn believed in taking by force rather than hardbor. Lannisport had been looted before, and the Lannisters were always wary of the Ironborn.


    "Your Grace, the ckwood and Bracken ns in the Rivends have not yete to blows. Perhaps we can send someone to mediate," Lyman Beesbury suggested, aiming to resolve the Rivends'' issue.


    Viserys looked at the map and frowned, "What about Lord Grover Tully of Riverrun? He is the Lord Paramount of the Trident and should manage these troubles."


    "Lord Tully is old, and the actual ruler of Riverrun is his son," Lyonel exined, helplessly adding, "Unfortunately, Lord Tully''s son is mediocre, and the lords of the Rivends do not follow his orders."

 Chapter 152: Navy Commander

    Chapter 152: Navy Commander


    ��A bunch of wastrels!�� Viserys cursed, waving his hand dismissively. ��Lord Lyonel, your house is also in the Rivends, so this matter will be handled by you.��


    Lyonel hesitated for a moment before agreeing. ��I will do my best to persuade the two houses as an emissary of the royal family.��


    The Strong House, enshrined in the prestigious Harrenhal, was also one of the lords of the Rivends. However, the ckwood and Bracken families had histories stretching back thousands of years and were renowned nobles in the region.


    Their feud was longstanding and bitter, each side determined to annihte the other. Just a few years ago, when Rhaenyra toured the continent, a Bracken heir had been killed by Samwell ckwood, a mere child at the time, further deepening the animosity between the two houses.


    Viserys, relieved to have found a solution to one problem, asked, ��What about the Vale? The mountain ns are a bunch of uncivilized barbarians.��


    The mountain ns were a persistent threat in the Vale. Lady Jeyne��s father and brother, thest Lords of the Eyrie, had been killed in an ambush by the Stone Crow tribe, an incident that had caused a sensation.


    ��This���� Lyonel began but couldn��t find a solution.


    The other advisers were also deep in thought. The Mountain ns, familiar with the Vale''s terrain, could easily evade capture and were difficult to quell once they rebelled.


    Just then, the door to the council hall creaked open, and Corlys and Rhaenys entered, hand in hand.��Gentlemen, forgive me for beingte,�� Corlys greeted calmly, holding his head high.


    He had been upte the previous night, and upon waking, had quickly dressed to join the royal meeting.


    ��Lord Corlys, Princess Rhaenys���� The advisers greeted them. Having worked together for many years, they were no strangers to one another.


    Corlys nodded in response, leading his wife to their seats. He first thanked Viserys, ��Thank you for the ce you prepared for me, Your Grace.��


    ��You are now an ally of the kingdom and should not be treated poorly,�� Viserys smiled, gesturing for them to sit.


    Corlys, unsurprised, sat with his wife, taking a ck stone ball from the tray and cing it on the table.


    Seeing this, the advisers also sat and ced their own stone balls on the table, marking the official start of the meeting.


    Corlys, the focus of this meeting, was the first to speak. ��Your Grace, the pirates of the Triarchy have already begun plundering merchant ships. We need to act swiftly.��


    ��We were just discussing the losses and troop deployments,�� Viserys said, smiling faintly. ��In response to the aggression of the Triarchy, the kingdom will spare no effort in its counter-attack, which cannot be done without your family''s support.��


    He nced at Lyonel, who nodded in understanding, and took out a warrant. ��Lord Corlys, in view of your illustrious deeds and experience against the Triarchy, the King appoints you as Navy Commander and Commander of the Battle for the Stepstones.��


    Corlys nced at the smiling Viserys, epted themission, and said, ��Thank you for Your Grace''s trust. I will fulfill my duty.��


    This appointment had been the result of long deliberation. No one else was better suited for the position of Commander of the Navy.


    After a pause, Corlys asked, ��Your Grace, my family will fully support the war effort. How many troops will the kingdom send?��


    This time, with the royal family backing the battle for the Stepstones, Corlys was determined to avoid the heavy losses his family had suffered in the past.


    ��The exact number is still under negotiation, but a conservative estimate is that the kingdom can send 3,000 men and 100 warships,�� Viserys estimated, considering the resources of the nobles.


    The Crownds was directly under the Targaryen Dynasty��s control, and every bannerman was fiercely loyal.


    ��With all due respect, that is far from enough to sustain a long war,�� Corlys frowned, clearly dissatisfied.


    Thest Battle of the Stepstones had been fought primarily by his family��s fleet and Daemon. They had hired more than three thousand mercenaries from the free cities alone.


    ��The lords of the kingdom��s realms have yet to receive news of the Battle of the Stepstones. We need some time,�� Lyonel exined.


    ��Then it should be soon, Lord Hand of the King,�� Corlys urged. ��The Stornds are closest to the Stepstones, and Lord Boremund is a royal supporter. He will definitely back this battle.��


    As a city by the sea, Storm��s End also relied on port taxes to umte wealth. The Baratheon family was naturally on their side.


    Grand Maester Mellos interjected, ��No problem. Once this meeting is over, the ravens will fly to the Seven Kingdoms.��


    The next step was to address a series of defensive issues based on the fullness of the treasury. Watchtowers needed to be built on the Stepstones, troops stationed there, and fleets patrolling the inds. Each of these required a considerable amount of money.


    Every time Corlys proposed a garrison arrangement, Master of Coin Lyman��s eyelids twitched a little. He closed his eyes in pain.


    Finally, Corlys broached the key issue. ��Your Grace, the battle requires the air superiority of dragons. How many dragons should our two houses deploy?��


    Corlys looked serious, understanding the critical importance of this point.


    Viserys didn��t answer immediately. His eyes swept over Rhaegar and Rhaenyra beside him, hesitation evident.


    There were three dragon riders in the royal family. Rhaenyra, being a woman, wasn��t fit for battle. Rhaegar, his eldest son and heir, needed to stay in the Red Keep to ensure stability. Viserys didn��t expect much from his second son, Aegon, either.


    For selfish reasons, Viserys didn��t want any of his children to go to war. The battlefield was a ce where not only frontalbat but also treachery and backstabbing urred.


    His great uncle, Aemon Targaryen, was a member of House Targaryen. He was the third born child of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen and Queen Alysanne Targaryen.


    It was a battle just like the Battle for the Stepstones, Aemon led the charge on a battlefield astride his formidable dragon, Caraxes.


    Tragically, Aemon did not fall to an enemy��s de but was instead assassinated in his own tent, despite being one of his grandfather Jaehaerys�� best sons and chosen heir.


    Corlys stared at Viserys, sensing his hesitation. This displeased him greatly. The Battle for the Stepstones was not just Vryon��s battle. If the royal family did not send a dragon rider, did they expect him to bring his wife and children to the battlefield?


    As he pondered how to press the issue, Rhaegar spoke up.


    ��Father, the war is being led by the crown. We cannot back down.��


    Rhaegar stood up and said calmly, ��When the war begins, I will ride Cannibal to the battlefield, as I have promised Lord Corlys.��


    ��Rhaegar, when did you make this decision?�� Viserys was visibly distressed by his eldest son��s deration. He would rather send his second son, Aegon, than risk Rhaegar.


    ��Father, the crown needs to set an example. If the Targaryens who control the dragons do not go to war, who will follow us?��

 Chapter 153: Pre-war Deployment

    Chapter 153: Pre-war Deployment


    Rhaegar spoke softly but resolutely, seeing the situation clearly.


    He was the heir of the realm and the master of the adult dragon, Cannibal. If he did not go to war, how could he expect his sister Rhaenyra or brother Aegon to do so? A cowardly act would make him theughingstock of the Seven Kingdoms.


    The only way to gain honor and secure his future im to the throne was to lead by example, making a name for himself on the battlefield and earning the respect of the soldiers of the Seven Kingdoms.


    "You''ve grown up and formed your own ideas," Viserys admitted, unable to refute his eldest son''s logic. Overwhelmed with emotion, he reflected on how, if Balerion hadn''t died of old age, he might have be a king with a formidable war record through battle.


    Turning to Corlys, Viserys made a firm decision, "The royal family will send two dragons to support the defense of the Stepstones."


    "Two dragons?" Corlys hesitated for a moment, ncing unconsciously at Rhaenyra behind the King''s back. Did the King intend to send the Princess to the battlefield as well?


    "No! Rhaenyra is my daughter, and I will not put her at risk," Viserys asserted firmly. "I have four sons, two of whom have tamed dragons, and they will fight on behalf of the royal family."


    "Prince Aegon?" Corlys frowned and exchanged a look with his wife, Rhaenys. As far as they remembered, Aegon was an unremarkable young man, and his dragon was not yet fully grown. Such a noble youth might contribute less to the battle than experienced officers.


    Viserys was adamant. "Rhaegar is going to war, and as his brother, Aegon must help."In truth, he did not want Rhaegar to face the battle alone. At least with Aegon, Rhaegar would have some familial support, someone to watch his back. In Viserys''s mind, the importance of his three younger sonsbined paled inparison to Rhaegar''s.


    Corlys, understanding the king''s logic, agreed, "Very well. One more dragon will reduce the casualties of many soldiers."


    Historically, the concept of a second son serving as a safeguard in battle was not umon. Since Rhaegar was going to war, it made sense for Aegon to follow, ensuring that any potential power ys at home were kept in check.


    Rhaenyra remained silent, listening to the men''s discussion. She, too, wanted to follow Rhaegar into battle. She had a dragon and was not merely an ordinary woman with no capabilities.


    Rhaegar, however, felt a pang of helplessness. He did not want Aegon to go to war; the boy wasn''t cut out for it. As his brother, Rhaegar would have to take care of him on the battlefield, ensuring he wasn''t shot down by a scorpion crossbow.


    "How many dragons does your house intend to send, Lord Corlys?" Viserys asked directly, his gaze intense. He hadmitted two of his sons, and the Vryon house simrly had three dragons; he expected their participation to be no less than his own.


    Corlys hesitated, ignoring his wife''s insistent look, and responded, "Your Grace, Laena has just given birth, and Vhagar is still wandering the Narrow Sea, unable to take part in the battle."


    Viserys tapped his fingers on the table, unmoved.


    "I will lead Vaemond and Laenor in the Battle of the Stepstones, while Rhaenys stays on Driftmark to oversee family affairs and patrol the channels," Corlys exined, his tone steady.


    He continued, "All the men of my family will be on the battlefield, but we can only deploy one dragon��Laenor''s Sea Smoke."


    Viserys''s expression darkened at this. He hadmitted both of his sons to the fight, yet Corlys seemed content to keep his wife and daughter safely away from the front lines. His lips twitched in irritation, but he restrained himself.


    He refused to allow Rhaenyra to go to war because she was a woman. Rhaenys and Laena, also women, had their own significant reasons��one to manage the family, the other having just given birth. It was indeed not appropriate to force them into battle.


    "Lord Corlys, have you asked Aunt Rhaenys''s opinion?" Rhaegar suddenly spoke, his gaze shifting between Corlys and Rhaenys.


    Laena had been a bridge between their families, living in the Red Keep to raise her children. Rhaenys was no ordinary woman; her dragon, Meleys, was a full-grown force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Corlys��s earlier statement had left Rhaenys looking disheartened, a sign that the decision was not mutual.


    Facing Rhaegar''s question, Corlys responded curtly, "If Rhaenys doesn''t stay on Driftmark, who will take care of my family?" He conveniently ignored the fact that his siblings Vaemond and Laenor, his eldest son, were already going to war. Someone had to manage the home front.


    Rhaegar, undeterred by Corlys��s deflection, turned directly to Rhaenys. "What do you think, Aunt?"


    He believed that his aunt had no desire to remain hidden in the background. Leading her dragon into battle was fitting for the greatness of the Queen Who Never Was.


    All eyes turned to Rhaenys. Corlys averted his gaze, pretending indifference to his wife''s answer.


    "Corlys''s proposal is for the greater good, and as his wife, I support him," Rhaenys began, her voice steady. Then she shifted her tone, revealing her true feelings. "Personally, I look forward to riding my dragon into battle and defeating the pirates of the Triarchy."


    Turning to Viserys, she added seriously, "Cousin, Driftmark needs a Vryon presence, and my daughter can fulfill this duty without difficulty."


    "Rhaenys!" Corlys eximed, surprised by her deration. They had long nned to exchange Laena and the child for a return to Driftmark, using Rhaenys��s involvement in the war as a cover. If possible, they had even considered ransoming Daemon to fill the gap.


    Viserys, slightly stunned, frowned in confusion. Were the two not on the same page?


    Rhaenyra, sensing the underlying tension, nced at Rhaegar in surprise. Rhaegar, with a knowing smile, reassured her. "Lord Corlys, Aunt Rhaenys has always been eager to serve her kingdom."


    He had promised Rhaenys a role at the council, and now it was time to fulfill that promise.


    "Father, when I was on Driftmark, I discussed with Aunt Rhaenys adopting reforms regarding the ownership of dragons by the Targaryen and Vryon families," Rhaegar said earnestly.


    The issue of dragon ownership was too significant to be overlooked. Mishandling it could lead to civil unrest and bloodshed between the families.


    Viserys narrowed his eyes, his tone firm. "Oh, the dragons have always belonged to the Targaryens. What is your point?"


    The Vryon dragons originated from Targaryen lineage. When Jaehaerys was in power, Rhaenys brought the first dragon to Driftmark upon marrying Corlys. Later, during the session contest between Rhaenys and Viserys, Jaehaerys did not oppose Laenor going to Dragonstone to tame Sea Smoke.


    Laena had tamed Vhagar at fifteen. At that time, Viserys, seeing her as Rhaenys��s bloodline and feeling guilty for refusing her marriage, had tacitly epted Laena''s taming of Vhagar. However, this did not mean he recognized the dragons as Vryon property.

 Chapter 154: Master of Dragons

    Chapter 154: Master of Dragons


    "Your Grace, the point was raised by the Prince," Corlys said in a low voice, weighing the pros and cons of the decision for his house.


    Viserys turned to his eldest son and asked sternly, "Rhaegar, what are your thoughts?"


    Long ago, Viserys had recognized the importance his eldest son ced on dragons. Whether it was taking control of the Dragonpit or the ongoing Dragonpit reforms, it was clear that Rhaegar had a deep connection to these creatures. He believed Rhaegar must have a better solution when he proposed the allocation of the giant dragons.


    "Ahem..." Rhaegar cleared his throat and spoke thoughtfully. "Father, you are well-versed in the history of the old Valyrian Freehold and know how the forty Dragonlord families fought endlessly among themselves."


    "Of course," Viserys replied, his eyes darkening as he recalled the terrifying power described in the histories.


    At its peak, Old Valyria had over a thousand dragons, and the entire continent of Essos was subjugated under its might. The internal conflicts must have been fierce.


    "This is precisely what I want to address," Rhaegar continued. "The prestige a dragon brings to a family name, to a house, is immense."


    Rhaegar scanned the room, his gaze resolute. "After the Doom, only one Dragonlord family remains in Westeros and even in the entire world: the Targaryens."


    The mention of the Dragonlord bloodline silenced the room. Dragons were magical creatures with supernatural power. No family could ignore the Targaryen dragons and their unique Dragonlord bloodline.Of all the advisors, Tnd had the most to say on this topic.


    During Rhaenyra''s time as Heir, Tnd and his brother Jason Lannister had each mounted campaigns against her, seeking the power associated with her status and hoping to add the Dragonlord bloodline to their family, enabling future generations to tame dragons as the Vryons had done.


    "Prince, my wife Rhaenys is a true Targaryen princess, and my children have Targaryen blood," Corlys said slowly after a moment of silence.


    He feared that Rhaegar''s proposal would deprive his children of the right to rule the dragons. The Vryons'' greatness was due not only to their sea fleet but also to the deterrent power of their three dragons.


    "Lord Corlys, hold your tongue. The prince has more to say," Grand Maester Mellos reminded him in his usual old-fashioned way, hands sped in his sleeves.


    Corlys looked at him with a sh of disgust. He detested the Maesters of the Citadel, whom he saw as self-righteous and bookish.


    "Rhaegar, now that you''ve mentioned the uniqueness of House Targaryen, what do you propose for House Vryon?" Viserys asked, puzzled. Couldn''t they just take the dragons back by force?


    Even so, they should wait until the war ended, rather than risk losing an important ally like the Sea Snake before the conflict began.


    "Father, be at ease," Rhaegar said, giving his father a reassuring look. "There is only one House Targaryen, but the Dragonlord bloodline will continue to spread through the realm through marriage."


    "Women will always marry out; there''s no stopping it," Rhaenys interjected with a frown.


    "Then we need restrictions!" Rhaegar dered. "I propose adding a new seat in the Small Council to specifically to manage issues such as the marriage of Targaryen family members and the education of heirs."


    "What''s the point of that?" Viserys asked, his doubts deepening.


    It had always been the patriarch''s right to govern his family members. He was not only the king but also the head of House Targaryen.


    Establishing a royal seat to manage family affairs seemed like a division of his authority.


    "Father, our great-grandfather had twelve children in his life. How many are still alive?" Rhaegar asked rhetorically.


    Viserys was speechless. Jaehaerys had been a wise king, but thetter half of his life had been fraught with loss. His chosen heirs, Aemon and Baelon, had died.


    Several of his daughters died in childbirth or from illnesses or injuries. A few sons and daughters who were unruly or disobedient left the kingdom.


    If not for his uncles and aunts, Viserys wouldn''t have had the chance to be king.


    Viserys fell deep into thought. The Targaryen bloodline had never flourished. Aegon the Conqueror had no brothers, only a pair of sisters. He had two sons in his lifetime, one of whom died early in his reign.


    One of his sons died young after inheriting the throne, and the other rebelled against his nephew and died on the Iron Throne.


    After three kings, Jaehaerys I seeded to the throne and had twelve children. But none of them survived.


    In Viserys'' lifetime, there was only one brother, Daemon, and a cousin, Rhaenys. Suddenly, an absurd thought struck Viserys.


    "Will my six children grow up safely?"


    In an instant, Viserys'' scalp tingled, and he sat up straight. Gazing eagerly at his eldest son, he gulped and asked, "Rhaegar, your proposal is good, but how will the new Royal seat manage the outflow of blood?"


    "Simple. The Targaryens have a brief family history, and every member is recorded," Rhaegar exined bluntly. "Female members marry out of the family, and children are distinguished by theirst name and whether they are qualified to hatch dragon eggs and tame dragons.


    Either thest name is Targaryen, or they follow their father''sst name. The Targaryens have dragons; those with the their father''s names do not."


    "The Westerosi tradition is that children inherit their father''s name," Corlys interrupted, his face suddenly changing.


    "Dragonse from Old Valyria," Rhaegar replied, his expression unwavering. "The new position I propose is the Master of Dragons. Newborns who follow the Targaryen surname are raised by the royal family and receive dragon eggs and dragon taming training. And only one newborn in the direct line of each allied family will be able to take the Targaryen surname."


    These two key rules were clear: one was to add to the royal bloodline, ensuring the family name and upbringing thoroughly integrated the newborn into House Targaryen.


    The second was to prevent allied families from having numerous children with Targaryen daughters and using their numbers to overshadow the rights of the royal family.


    "Prince, your conditions are too harsh. ording to your proposal, both Laena and Laenor will have to change their surnames to Targaryen!" Corlys grimaced, struggling to suppress his emotions.


    The so-called Master of Dragons position would first restrict House Vryon.


    "Lord Corlys, you must understand one thing: dragons have never belonged to the Vryons," Rhaegar rebutted calmly. "Laena and Laenor''s ability to harness dragons was granted by my great-grandfather and father.


    I will not deprive them of their family name or their dragons. But with the establishment of the position of Master of Dragons, House Targaryen will be united as one and not allow the emergence of a second Dragonlord family."


    The restriction was aimed at House Vryon. The Targaryens now had only three dragon riders, the same number as the Vryons. In the end, who was the true Dragonlord family?


    "Prince, Laenor is not yet married. Will his heir have the qualifications to change his family name?" Corlys asked, calming down slightly as he continued to fight for his heir''s future.


    "Not necessarily," Rhaegar admitted. "Laenor is the son of Aunt Rhaenys, and unless he marries another Targaryen, his children will be purely Vryon."


    This had to be clearly stated. The only way to change a family name was through a direct line of Targaryen members.

 Chapter 155: Game of Thrones

    Chapter 155: Game of Thrones


    "A very stringent regtion, suitable for the foundation of a new system," Viserys remarked, his eyes lighting up as he listened to his eldest son''s proposal.


    Dragons had always been the foundation of House Targaryen. The royal family''s control over dragons could never be loosened.


    Rhaegar''s idea of a Master of Dragons and the system of changing surnames for newborns were both cornerstone strategies that would be beneficial in the future.


    With that in mind, Viserys turned to Rhaenys and asked with a smile, "Cousin, what do you think of this proposal?"


    Corlys lowered his gaze to his wife, deep in thought. He didn''t want his wife to agree to this proposal.


    It would mean that House Vryon would be disqualified from riding dragons after Laenor''s generation.


    Rhaenys took her husband''s hand, her eyes firm. "I agree with this proposal!" she eximed. Herst name was Targaryen, and her family''s honor had been a part of her life.


    There was no reason for her not to support what was beneficial to the family, even if it shattered her husband''s unrealistic fantasies.


    "Rhaenys..." Corlys''s eyes wereplicated, and his hands trembled slightly."Corlys, I''ve been pretending to be deaf and dumb for years, and I don''t want to live that way anymore," Rhaenys said, gripping her husband''s hand. The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes smoothed as she spoke.


    "I respect your choice, but we have our own family and children," Corlys said, taking a deep breath and advising his wife to consider the situation.


    His words were meant not only for her but for everyone in the room. House Vryon hadplied with the rules and should bepensated ordingly.


    Rhaegar and Viserys exchanged a look, understanding passing between them.


    Viserys patted his daughter''s hand that was resting on his shoulder, stood up, and smiled. "Cousin, the position of Master of Dragons must be led by a Targaryen mature enough to have a calm disposition, and you are the best choice."


    "And you would be willing to take away the power of the throne?" Rhaenys asked, giving him a sidelong nce, her tone cool. She knew her cousin''s indecisive nature all too well.


    "Rhaegar has made the importance of the Master of Dragons position clear, and the royal family has ignored that matter for far too long," Viserys said, unfazed by her tone. "You and I came from the Fire and Blood; we should trust each other."


    "You''re always so smooth-talking," Rhaenys said, her expression softening as she looked at her husband. Corlys pursed his lips and nodded lightly.


    He was a victim of the Master of Dragons system''s benefits but had to admit its importance. He wanted to oppose it, but the power was not in his hands.


    When the pirates of the Triarchy Kingdom attacked, Driftmark was the first to be jeopardized.


    If he left now, he would only be giving away his house business and the dragons, effectively excluding himself from the center of power.


    Patience! A politician must be aware of this.


    "Your Grace, I am willing to ept the position of Master of Dragons," Rhaenys said with a smile.


    "Very well. Lord Lyonel, you will arrange the inauguration ceremony and ensure it ispleted within three days," Viserys replied, his smile widening as he handed the task to the Hand of the King.


    Lyonel felt overwhelmed by the increasing responsibilities. Touching on his chest, he cheered himself up and calmly said, "It is my duty to share your burdens, Your Grace."


    "Now that I''ve joined the Small Council, can I be honest?" Rhaenys asked, looking around.


    "I have always encouraged the advisers to speak candidly," Viserys replied, settling back into his seatfortably.


    "Then I will speak," Rhaenys said, raising her chin. "As for the number of dragons to go to war, I nominate myself as the vanguard."


    "But ording to Lord Corlys, you will stay on Driftmark?" Tnd, the Master of Ships, hesitantly nced at the Sea Snake.


    "My daughter Laena can manage Driftmark. She is not only a Vryon but also married to a Targaryen," Rhaenys said frankly.


    "I agree," Rhaegar said, smiling. "Laena has written to me about missing her homnd, and I think she will dly ept."


    "What do you think, Your Grace?" Rhaenys asked bluntly.


    "I believe in Laena''s abilities, but her children are still very young," Viserys hesitated slightly, ncing at Rhaenyra.


    Rhaegar immediately picked up the conversation. "When the wares, my sister can travel to Driftmark to take care of Laena and the newborn."


    "If Rhaenyra is the adoptive mother of the two children. Is this arrangement still valid?" Rhaenys probed without hesitation.


    Rhaenyra smiled lightly. "Of course. When I go to Driftmark, I will bring two dragon eggs to ce in the children''s cradles."


    "You''ll be a good mother," Rhaenys nodded, her eyes pleased.


    The position of Master of Dragons was a double-edged sword. epting it would mean that Vryon''s descendants would lose their right to ride dragons.


    It was a conflict of power. Laena and her children were meant to bridge the two houses, to be considered half members of both.


    Rhaenyra''s promise to bring dragon eggs aspensation was a strategic move. In one go, the Targaryens addressed the bloodline and dragon issues.


    Vryon kept her existing dragons, and Rhaenys became an advisor in the Small Council, earning the trust of the royal family on her daughter''s behalf.


    It was the best possible oue.


    With the issues between the two houses resolved, the Council returned to discussing the Triarchy.


    "Lord Tnd, as Master of Ships, you will be in charge of war preparations," Viserys exined.


    "Yes, Your Grace," Tnd replied solemnly.


    "Now, I need a leading general to assist Lord Corlys in deploying the king''s army," Viserys said, his gaze falling on Cole, who was serving beside him.


    Sensing the king''s scrutiny, Cole''s breath hitched and he stood straighter.


    "Ser Cole, you have never been to war. Do you have the confidence to take on this great responsibility?" Viserys asked, smiling.


    As the honor of leading the army fell upon him, Cole''s spirits lifted. "Absolutely, Your Grace!" he said with suppressed excitement.


    "Very well. I appoint youmander of the king''s army to aid Lord Corlys," Viserys said, pleased with Cole''s boldness. The kingdom had been at peace for too long without a decent leader.


    He had to choose the best of the avable options, and he chose Cole, the loyal and brave captain of the Kingsguard.


    Corlys nced at the two men and shook his head,ughing. He didn''t worry about a young man who had never led an army before.


    Tnd thought for a moment and said worriedly, "Your Grace, the time it takes for the ravens to deliver news is too slow, and the situation in the Vale and the Reach isplicated. It could make things harder."


    "What solution do you propose?" Viserys asked, feeling his head spin at the mention of the chaos.


    Tnd pondered for a moment and suggested, "Lord Lyonel can handle the Rivends. The ravens will be sufficient for sending letters to Storm''s End. The main problem lies in the Vale and the Reach."

 Chapter 156: Letter from the Vale

    Chapter 156: Letter from the Vale


    He avoided mentioning the North.


    That bitter, coldnd had always been out of touch with the rest of the kingdom.


    By the time the Starks lead their armies south, the war would likely be over.


    Tnd continued, "The unrest in the Vale is troublesome, but Gulltown has harbors that can support warships andrge numbers of soldiers."


    "While House Tyrell in the Reach must defend against Dornish invasion, House Redwyne on the Arbor has a powerful fleet that can support the battlefield. Additionally, Oldtown in the Reach and White Harbor in the North are among thergest ports in the kingdom."


    The crowd listened quietly, agreeing with his analysis.


    Rhaegar asked, "Lord Tnd, Oldtown and the Arbor are fine, but White Harbor is too remote, and Gulltown has to support the Eyrie."


    "Prince, while the war has not yet begun, we should do our best to expedite our preparations," Tnd said.


    Rhaegar waved his hand, signaling him to continue.Tnd said, "The royal family has dragons, which fly faster than ravens, and a member of the royal family is more persuasive than a letter."


    "A good idea," Viserys raised an eyebrow, "but there are too many ces to travel for my children to cover them all."


    "Your Grace, Aegon''s maternal grandfather''s family is House Hightower in Oldtown. If Aegon travels there, Lord Hobert will naturally help himmunicate with the Tyrells and the Redwynes," Tnd exined.


    "Princess Rhaenyra can go to White Harbor and convince House Manderly to send troops. Prince Rhaegar and Lady Jeyne are cousins, and the dragon can deter the mountain ns and gain the support of Gulltown."


    It made sense, and Viserys'' old habit of hesitation kicked in. He looked at Lyonel, hoping he would give his opinion.


    Lyonel, always careful with his words when it came to royalty, said in a low voice, "The trip to the Vale may be apanied by danger. The mountain ns are not to be underestimated. Several Lords of the Eyrie have died at their hands."


    Corlys spoke up, "Your Grace, the mountain ns in the Vale are nothing more than a bunch of fools, and the dragons will overwhelm them."


    Rhaenys thought for a moment andmented, "Let Laenor go. He has harnessed Sea Smoke and can bring word of the true state of affairs in the Vale."


    Viserys hesitated. He was tempted to agree to Rhaenys''s request, but Rhaegar, as the Heir, was more likely to represent the Crown.


    Grand Maester Mellos rummaged through his satchel, seemed to remember something, and said indistinctly, "Your Grace, I have a letter from the Vale here that may rify the situation."


    A letter with a redcquer seal was taken out, received by Cole, and handed to the king.


    Viserys opened the letter and read it carefully.


    "Runestone... Lady Rhea to... hold a wedding..." he muttered, his lips moving slightly as his voice trailed off, and he gradually frowned.


    After a moment, Viserys handed the letter to Lyonel, displeased. "Lady Rhea of Runestone and her cousin Gerold Royce are engaged and intend to organize a wedding."


    After Daemon left for the Free Cities, Lady Rhea had sought Viserys multiple times to urge for a divorce. Viserys, annoyed, had finally eded to her request. Now, Lady Rhea had found someone to marry.


    Jasper grimaced and said, "Runestone is in the center of the Vale, and if Lady Rhea is nning a wedding, it seems the situation in the Vale isn''t too bad."


    Lyonel quickly read through the letter, his expression surprised. Hesitantly, he said, "The letter says that Lady Jeyne will be traveling to attend the wedding, and they hope members of the royal family will attend."


    "Pfft..." Tnd couldn''t hold back augh and hurriedly covered his mouth.


    Lady Rhea remarried and invited the royals. Is she inviting her ex-husband Daemon?


    "That foolish woman - no wonder my brother couldn''t stand to be bed her," Viserys muttered, grimacing at the thought of his former sister-inw.


    "Your Grace, that is actually good news," Lyman said slowly and methodically. "The Vale is at least still stable, and sending a dragon rider there will provide considerable support."


    Viserys understood and turned to his eldest son. "Rhaegar, what do you think?"


    Opening up Gulltown''s harbor would enable troop support from the entire Vale, a significant advantage.


    Rhaegar smiled, "No problem. The mountain ns are less of a threat now. They''re hardly as dangerous as the savages of Crackw Point, and the Cannibal will take care of them."


    "Father, I''ll go with Rhaegar," Rhaenyra pleaded, resting her head on Viserys'' shoulder.


    Viserys frowned. "You still need to go to White Harbor."


    "I haven''t seen Cousin Jeyne in a long time, and I can keep an eye on Rhaegar."


    Rhaenyra used Jeyne as a pretext, uneasy about her brother traveling to the Vale alone.


    "That''s one more thing to worry about," Viserys sighed, rubbing his brow.


    Rhaenys interjected, "Laenor is up to the task. Corlys is close friends with Lord Manderly; he''ll bring back good news."


    Rhaenyra smiled gratefully at her aunt, who shook her head and avoided her gaze.


    Rhaenys'' two granddaughters were still waiting for their dragon eggs, so establishing this connection early was beneficial.


    Seeing the family united, Viserys felt a rare warmth and urged, "Go ande back quickly. You still have two more children to look after."


    "I will," Rhaenyra promised, happy to travel with Rhaegar in a dragon once more.


    The meeting ended, and the advisors went about their business.


    ...


    Night fell quickly over the Red Keep.


    In the dimly lit forge room, the constant nging of metal echoed.


    Before a massive furnace, a foreign cksmith wielded a hammer, striking a freshly forged rippled steel sword. An apprentice busied himself with the furnace, while another polished the sword on the floor.


    Creak...


    The wooden door to the forge room opened, and Rhaenyra, dressed simply, stepped lightly inside, scanning the room.


    The fire from the furnace cast a red glow over half the chamber, the heat palpable.


    "Rhaegar..." Rhaenyra spotted her brother reclining in a chair and approached him with a sigh.


    Rhaegar had insisted on checking the progress of the weapon forging and hadn''t even eaten dinner.


    Facing the fire, Rhaegar had fallen asleep, his pale cheeks flushed with the furnace''s heat.


    Rhaenyra opened her mouth to wake him but decided against it. Rhaegar''s sleep was always troubled, and she didn''t want to disturb him when he finally found rest.


    "Sleep well, you have your own little kitchen; you won''t go hungry," Rhaenyra whispered, sitting on the edge of the recliner and gently stroking Rhaegar''s face.


    The cksmiths continued their work, unfazed by her presence.


    In his dream, Rhaegar found himself by a vastke with an ind at its center. The noon sun glistened on the turquoise water as a ck swan yed nearby.


    "Roar..." A dragon''s call echoed, and a silver dragon soared above theke, its wings casting shadows over the water.

 Chapter 157: Valyrian Steel Sword – Dragon’s Claw

    Chapter 157: Valyrian Steel Sword �C Dragon��s w


    The dragon flew past, followed by an army of thousands, each soldier''s armor and weapons gleaming in the sunlight.


    Rhaegar watched from afar, transfixed.


    The young man riding the dragon had silver-blonde hair and a familiar, though indistinct, face. He carried a longsword at his waist and a spear on his back.


    The massive dragon and its apanying army circled the greatke andnded on its northern shore.


    "Roar..."


    Another dragon''s roar, deep and thunderous, echoed across the sky and earth.


    A fierce wind swept through, and a pair of immense dragon wings blotted out the sun, casting the entireke into shadow.


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened in astonishment as he saw a colossal ck dragon hovering above. This dragon, covered in ck scales with scarlet-red horns and wing membranes, had cold, merciless eyes that resembled the god of death.


    A name surfaced in Rhaegar''s mind: The ck Dread��Balerion."Uncle, you have usurped power and seized the throne. Surrender!" the young man on the silver dragon shouted, drawing his longsword.


    Rhaegar looked at Balerion''s back. Seated in a ck iron saddle was a tall, powerful middle-aged man with short silver-gold hair.


    Rhaegar''s mind cleared, and he realized, "This is the Battle at the God''s Eye Lake!"


    He remembered the brief history of House Targaryen. The cruel Maegor I had killed his nephew, Aegon Targaryen, north of the God''s Eye Lake.


    "My nephew, the throne is mine, and you will not escape today!" the middle-aged man on Balerion''s backughed, his voice thick and powerful.


    "Roar..."


    Balerion''s wings beat mightily, and he lunged at the silver dragon.


    Balerion was thergest dragon ever seen in Westeros. Compared to him, the silver dragon looked like a sparrow, tiny and vulnerable.


    Roar...


    Balerion''s speed was incredible. He closed the distance quickly, ignoring the silver dragon''s dragonfire, and tore off one of its wings with his powerful jaws, swallowing it whole.


    The silver dragon had no power to resist. With a final scream, it and its rider plummeted to the ground, perishing together.


    Boom...


    When they hit the ground, a burst of blood from both dragon and rider sprayed tens of meters, staining the grass by theke.


    Rhaegar was horrified by Balerion''s power. The world around him began to shake, and the dream started to shatter.


    Click...


    A crunching sound came from beneath him. The ground was covered in frost.


    When Rhaegar looked up, snow began to fall, quickly covering the bloodied dragon''s corpse.


    "Roar..."


    In the sky, Balerion roared again, spewing hot dragonfire, dark with smoke.


    Rhaegar stood there, dumbfounded, his body chilled by the cold wind as he gazed up at the fiery contrast in the sky.


    Waking up, Rhaegar frowned slightly, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead as his arms and legs twitched involuntarily.


    "Rhaegar!"


    Startled, Rhaenyra quickly called his name, realizing his distress.


    Rhaegar often had nightmares, and whenever this happened, she would wake him.


    "Ah!"


    With a sharp cry, Rhaegar''s eyes snapped open, and he sat up straight.


    "Rhaegar, are you okay?" Rhaenyra asked anxiously, gently pressing his shoulders and shaking them.


    Rhaegar, wide-eyed, murmured, "Ice and fire..."


    The scene from his dream was still vivid in his mind, but he didn''t mention Maegor''s Kinying or the tragic death of the silver dragon. Instead, the snow and dragonfire seemed to be imprinted in his memory, reying over and over.


    "What ice and fire? Did you dream about the song of ice and fire?" Rhaenyra, recognizing the phrase, grew even more concerned.


    "No, not ice and fire." Rhaegar gasped heavily, holding his forehead. "I dreamt of Maegor''s Kinying."


    "What were you dreaming about, anyway? All that nonsense," Rhaenyra sighed, cuddling into his neck and leaning against his chest.


    In the past, Rhaegar hadn''t reacted so violently to his nightmares. Feeling her warmth, Rhaegar''s racing heart began to calm, and he closed his eyes in silence, though he still had a headache. The snow and dragonfire were what had woken him, and this was not a good sign.


    Rhaenyra, sensing his turmoil, gently rubbed his scalp and whispered, "It''s like you haven''t grown up."


    Rhaegar wanted to retort but instead hugged her waist. He had only had a nightmare and was under a bit of pressure. The sound of hammering continued in the background as the cksmiths worked.


    After a while, Rhaegar sniffed the familiar light fragrance and suddenly remembered his identity as a man. "Ahem, I''m better," he said, breaking away from the warm embrace and coughing lightly to cover his embarrassment.


    Rhaenyra smirked at him, withdrawing her hands and folding them behind her back.


    "Prince, the sword is cast!" The cksmith spoke in High Valyrian, giving Rhaegar a much-needed distraction.


    "Good! Let me see!" Rhaegar said eagerly, walking quickly to the firece.


    The cksmith, an old man with curly chestnut-colored hair and a worn face, held a long narrow box lined with red cloth.


    Rhaegar looked at him expectantly. The cksmith looked solemn and motioned for him to lift the red cloth. Rhaegar did so, revealing a long, gleaming sword inside the box.


    The longsword was a standard hand-and-a-half sword, its de covered in the distinctive watery pattern of Valyrian steel, with razor-sharp edges. The hilt and pommel were made of grayish bone, shaped like a dragon''s w.


    One side featured a sharply curved dragon''s back toe, while the other side disyed the first three toes of the dragon, carved as a single piece. The hilt was carved with fine dragon scale patterns, curving slightly at the end, making it look as if the ws of a giant dragon extended from the sword.


    Surveying the recast Valyrian steel sword, Rhaegar felt a surge of satisfaction and gripped the hilt, lifting it from the box.


    Buzz...


    Swinging the sword, the de cut through the air with a soft, reverberating hum, reminiscent of a dragon''s roar.


    "Good sword! Excellent craftsmanship!" Rhaegar eximed, holding the sword with one hand and rubbing the de with the other. "The hilt looks like a dragon''s w. This sword shall be named Dragon w!"


    "Qohor cksmiths are world-famous; it''s true," Rhaenyra said, joining him. "Dragon w is a fitting name."


    "Of course, I''ve been thinking about this name for days," Rhaegar replied proudly, handing the sword to her. "Look at the hilt and the jaw. I used a piece of Balerion''s dragon horn, which is as strong as meteorite iron."


    "Only you would think of such a thing," Rhaenyra admired the freshly forged Valyrian steel sword. "With this, our family will have three ancestral swords."


    "It''s more than that," Rhaegar said, pointing to the furnace with a mysterious smile. "The melted Valyrian steel from the heavy sword left enough material. Even after forging Dragon w, there''s still quite a bit of Valyrian steel left."

 Chapter 158: Mysterious Scroll

    Chapter 158: Mysterious Scroll


    After retrieving Dragon w, Rhaegar and Rhaenyra left the forging room and returned to their respective chambers.


    Walking through the dimly lit corridor, Rhaegar asionally stroked the hilt of Dragon w, savoring the texture of the dragon''s horn.


    Suddenly, a system notification sounded.


    "Congrattions, the Sword of the Nameless has been activated. You have obtained..."


    Rhaegar''s spirits lifted as he summoned the Explorer''s System Interface.


    [Mysterious Scroll


    Grade: Excellent (Blue)


    Function: A mysterious scroll from old Valyria that brings you the treasures of your homnd.


    Evaluation: "A scroll of mystical magic, you''ll love it."]With a soft pop, a parchment scroll about the length of a small arm materialized out of thin air. Rhaegar caught it immediately, opening it with great anticipation.


    The scroll was yellowish, depicting a magnificent buildingplex.


    "The Red Keep?" Rhaegar recognized the drawing instantly.


    Besides organizing banquets and tournaments, his father��s hobby was stone carving, and his bedchamber was filled with ornaments from old Valyria. It was said that Alicent had captured his father''s heart through stone carving.


    Examining the scroll closely, Rhaegar frowned. "This looks like a quest-like relic. Could it be a treasure map?"


    Relics bestowed by the Explorer��s Interface often had mysterious powers, bing more enigmatic with each exploration.


    Buzz��


    As if sensing his doubts, the scroll glowed faintly, and the lines of the painting gradually morphed into coordinates.


    ustomed to magical urrences, Rhaegar wasn''t surprised. He studied the coordinates, which slowly aligned with the map of the Red Keep in his memory.


    "This seems to be... Father''s room?" Rhaegar said, realization dawning on him. The scroll was pointing to ckfyre��s location.


    Rhaegar shook his head and smiled. "The scroll can help me find relics with the conditions for exploration?"


    The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed.


    "Might as well try to explore ckfyre again," he mused. With his imminent departure for the Vale, this could be a fortuitous opportunity.


    He went to a nearby window and looked out into the night. It was just after dark, and a crescent moon shone brightly. His father probably hadn''t gone to bed yet.


    ...


    Rhaegar left the kitchen and made his way to his father''s room. Just as he was about to knock, the door opened from the inside.


    Alicent, dressed in a green gown, stepped out and bumped into him.


    "Ah! Rhaegar?" Alicent eximed. Recognizing him, she took a few steps back.


    "Queen," Rhaegar greeted simply, stepping aside with his hands behind his back.


    Alicent, covering her chest with one hand, nodded lightly and quickly left. Rhaegar noticed her red eyes and teardrops.


    Frowning slightly, Rhaegar wondered, "Could this be about Aegon''s participation in the Battle of Stepstones?"


    "Ahem..." Viserys''s hoarse voice came from inside the room. "Rhaegar, is that you at the door?"


    "It''s me, Father," Rhaegar responded, walking into the room.


    Viserys, in his pajamas, was leaning against a round table in the living room. He beckoned his eldest son over and sighed, "Come, sit here."


    Rhaegar obediently sat down opposite him and asked with concern, "What is it, Father?"


    "A woman''s kindness," Viserys replied, looking ill. "You wanted to see me at thiste hour?"


    "Yes, to share godd news with you," Rhaegar said, removing the scabbard from his belt and handing over Dragon w.


    "Oh, your Valyrian steel sword is finished," Viserys noted, knowing his son had recast a heavy Valyrian steel sword.


    He drew Dragon w, its cold aura shimmering in the dim light. Examining it, Viserys smiled. "Valyrian steel is very rare. This is a fine sword."


    "The cksmiths of Qohor are indeed skilled," Rhaegar said with a smile, ncing around the room until his gaze fixed on ckfyre hanging on the wall.


    Standing up, he reached out to take down ckfyre.


    "Want topare the two swords?" Viserys asked with a smirk, noticing Rhaegar''s movements.


    Rhaegarughed, resuming his seat with ckfyre in hand.


    A system beep sounded in Rhaegar''s ears.


    "The quest mission has begun. The target is the Valyrian Steel Sword, ckfyre."


    [ckfyre


    Exploration Progress: 0.3%


    Exploration mission triggered. Please wait for the exploration progress toplete.]


    Viserys chuckled. "You''ve been interested in ckfyre since you were a child. Are you looking to trade it for Dragon w?"


    Rhaegar shook his head firmly. "ckfyre symbolizes kingship. I''m more suited to wield Dragon w right now."


    Viserys, twirling Dragon w in his hands, asked, "A sword forged in battle��what do you think it symbolizes?"


    "It was made for battle so, to me, it symbolizes fearlessness," Rhaegar replied thoughtfully.


    He had actually wanted to say "war." The Targaryens had two ancestral swords. ckfyre symbolized kingship. Dark Sister embodied bravery, loyalty, and protection, qualities attributed by Queen Visenya. The one thing missing was a symbol of war and conquest. Rhaegar hoped Dragon w would represent that, helping him defend the kingdom''s glory.


    "Not a bad idea. Fearless courage is rare," Viserys mused, unaware of Rhaegar''s deeper thoughts. He sighed, feeling his ownck of such courage.


    Both father and son fell silent, the room heavy with contemtion.


    After a long pause, Viserys nced at Rhaegar, surprised he hadn''t gone to bed. Rhaegar was waiting for the quest to progress, having woken up from a nap and not feeling sleepy.


    Searching for a topic, Viserys asked, "Rhaegar, you''re thirteen now��old enough to be engaged."


    "Huh?" Rhaegar looked up, puzzled by the sudden shift to his marriage prospects.


    Viserys continued, "Do you have someone you favor?"


    "No, I haven''t thought about it," Rhaegar quickly replied. He rarely ventured outside the king''s domain, and the nobledies he met always seemed eager to devour him with their eyes. None of them truly interested him.


    "What about following the family tradition?" Viserys pressed.


    Rhaegar paused, understanding his father''s implication. He had considered it, but his feelings for Rhaenyra wereplicated, and their rtionship had always been tonic.


    "You''re good at many things, but slow in matters of the heart," Viserys observed. "Look at Aegon. He understood love at eleven. What about you?"


    "I haven''t," Rhaegar mumbled, his head drooping as he fidgeted. It wasn''t that he was slow to develop; he was just preupied with remodeling the Dragonpit, practicing martial arts, and mastering dragon-riding. He had too many responsibilities.


    Viserys rubbed his forehead, worried about his eldest son''s emotional intelligence.

 Chapter 159: Dreamscape

    Chapter 159: Dreamscape


    Reflecting on the past, Viserys remembered his own romantic escapades. He couldn''t understand why his eldest son was so serious.


    After a moment of hesitation, Viserys said, "Rhaegar, when I was your age, I had already strolled through most of the brothels in King��s Landing with Daemon."


    Rhaegar pursed his lips, remaining silent.


    "Damn it!" Viserys cursed, frustrated by his son''sck of response.


    It wasn��t Rhaegar��s fault. Traditionally, Targaryen men would have their brothers or cousins take them to brothels for initiation after they reached puberty. But Rhaegar, as the eldest, had no older brothers or cousins to guide him��only Laenor, who was his cousin. His younger brothers were still too young for such activities, except Aegon, who was terrified of Rhaegar and avoided him.


    Determined to help his eldest son, Viserys decided to take matters into his own hands. "Rhaegar, you should go where Aegon goes. I won''t me you."


    Rhaegar looked at his father in disbelief. "Father, are you encouraging me to go to brothels?"


    "Father, I''m not interested in Aegon''s tastes," Rhaegar replied.


    "Seven hells!" Viserys sighed, exasperated. "There are all kinds of girls in those ces. Aegon even fathered a bastard.""Aegon''s got a bastard?" Rhaegar''s eyes widened in shock. How old was Aegon? He already had a bastard?


    "Hmph, that boy��s a loose cannon," Viserys muttered. "I''ll have Lyonel prepare a list of suitable nobledies for you tomorrow, so you can choose one."


    "But what about Rhaenyra?" Rhaegar hesitated, feeling uneasy about the situation.


    "Forget Rhaenyra for now," Viserys said firmly. "Sort through the engagement choices and then decide who you''ll marry!"


    Viserys was frustrated with Rhaenyra��s reluctance to marry, so he wanted Rhaegar to be prepared. Once Rhaegar was of age, he would need to marry and carry on the family line.


    "You decide," Rhaegar agreed, seeing no reason to argue. His views on marriage hadn''t changed��whether it was a family tradition, love at first sight, or a political alliance, he could ept it.


    Viserys then proceeded to educate his eldest son on a series of matters, hoping to prepare him for his future responsibilities.


    ...


    Before he knew it, dawn had arrived.


    Viserys was slumped in his chair, a nket draped over him, snoring lightly. Rhaegar had fallen asleep at the desk, clutching a Valyrian steel sword.


    The previous night, father and son had spent the entire time talking. Rhaegar had endured the long hours for the sake ofpleting the ckfyre exploration.


    A voice suddenly woke Rhaegar from his sleep.


    "This exploration isplete. Please pick up the lost treasure."


    Rhaegar lifted his head, disoriented, and nced around. The Explorer''s System interface appeared.


    [ckfyre]


    Exploration Progress: 100%


    "It''s dawn, the exploration isplete," Rhaegar mumbled, rubbing his face to wake up.


    On the table, a grapefruit-sized purple halo hovered near the ckfyre. Rhaegar reached out to touch it.


    Wave~


    The purple halo burst like a bubble, scattering points of purple light.


    "Relic picked up sessfully. Detection in progress..."


    "Detection sessful. Recognized as an epic relic: the King''s Gaze."


    Listening to the announcement, Rhaegar''s face lit up with joy. "Epic level, that''s excellent."


    On the interface, a purple eye floated in mid-air, looking empty and dead. Below it, a line of small text provided a hint:


    "The Monarch has more than one pair of eyes and sees things from multiple perspectives."


    Rhaegar was puzzled, unable to immediately understand the relic''s key function. He stared into the unblinking purple eye, tilting his head in confusion.


    Suddenly, the purple eye transformed into a stream of light and entered Rhaegar''s brain.


    "Damn!" Rhaegar blurted out, rushing to pour a ss of water to check his reflection. He feared he might have grown a third eye.


    His face appeared normal in the reflection. He reached up, touching his forehead��no bumps, just smooth skin.


    "Scared me to death," Rhaegar sighed in relief, feeling cold sweat on his back.


    Another beep sounded.


    "Congrattions, the King''s Gaze has been activated. You have gained..."


    [Dreamscape]


    Grade: Legendary (Red)


    Effect: Grants you the ability to maintain awareness in the dream world.


    Evaluation: "A special relicbined with a special talent, giving you a unique perspective."


    Rhaegar suddenly felt a surge of rity. His drowsiness vanished, his spirit revitalized, and his mind became sharp. He could recall memories with greater rity and detail.


    Looking out the window, he noticed the engraved bricks on the distant city wall with remarkable precision.


    Rhaegar touched the corners of his eyes and whispered, "Memory enhancement, improved eyesight... this must be part of Dreamscape''s ability."


    He realized these enhancements were just the beginning. Legendary relics were incredibly rare. Currently, he possessed only [Blood and Fire] and [True Dragon''s Blood], which had alreadyid a strong foundation for him.


    Contemting further, he opened his personal profile:


    Rhaegar Targaryen


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold), Longevity (Green)


    Bloodline: Ancient Valyrian Dragonlord (39%)


    Skills: Sword Mastery, Spear Mastery, Old Valyrian Language Proficiency


    Relics: Blood and Fire, True Dragon''s Blood, Dreamscape...


    Evaluation: "Your talent has been developed twice. Use it to your advantage and avoid harm."


    "Let''s test it!" Rhaegar murmured, stretching as he got up.


    Sleeping at the desk had not beenfortable. He picked up ckfyre and re-hung it on the wall, then secured his Dragon w and quietly left the room.


    ...


    Three dayster.


    Red Castle, Throne Hall.


    Rhaenys stood in the center of the hall, dressed in ck and red, surrounded by advisers and nobles of various ranks. Today marked her celebration as the new Master of Dragons.


    Viserys, adorned in his coronation attire and wearing a crown, stood before the Iron Throne, holding the legendary ckfyre. His face was solemn as he addressed the assembled crowd.


    "My lords, the rule of the Targaryen Dynasty has endured for 118 years, with our royal bloodline passed down through the generations," he proimed.


    "Today, in the name of Viserys I, I establish a new royal duty, exclusive to the Targaryens: the Master of Dragons!"


    Apuse erupted as his words echoed through the hall.


    Rhaenys proudly lifted her head and walked toward the Iron Throne. When she was three meters away, she stopped and knelt on one knee.


    Viserys raised ckfyre and ced it on her shoulder, speaking with grave formality, "Rhaenys Targaryen, I appoint you as the first Master of Dragons, granting you the authority to manage the royal bloodline and oversee the royal legacy!"


    "Yes, Your Grace," Rhaenys responded, her voice steady as she epted the honorable appointment.


    Viserys smiled softly, lowered ckfyre, and symbolically helped her rise.

 Chapter 160: Gifting Dark Sister

    Chapter 160: Gifting Dark Sister


    On either side of the Iron Throne stood members of the Targaryen and Vryon Houses, each lost in his own thoughts.


    With a smile, Rhaegar stepped out from the crowd and called, "Father!"


    Viserys looked at him and nodded.


    Rhaegar approached, unsheathing one of the swords at his waist. Everyone noticed that the Heir carried two scabbards��one long, one short. Rhaenys, watching intently, was amazed.


    Rhaegar crossed the scabbard in his hand and smiled. "Auntie, take the sword."


    Rhaenys recognized it immediately��the house sword, Dark Sister.


    "ckfyre is a symbol of kingship, and Dark Sister deserves to have duties of its own," Rhaegar announced, his tone solemn. "Its first owner, Queen Visenya, used it to protect Aegon the Conqueror, killing more than a dozen assassins with a single sword."


    "I hope Dark Sister bes a symbol of protection for the kingdom."


    Rhaenys, visibly moved, took the sword with trembling hands. "I never thought I��d hold Dark Sister one day.""The Dark Sister never belonged to any one person," Rhaegar exined. "From now on, it will be the sword of every Master of Dragons."


    Hearing this, Rhaenys''s eyes filled with determination. With a swift motion, she unsheathed Dark Sister and dered, "I will fulfill my duty and bear the burden of guarding the family."


    Apuse erupted, reaching a crescendo. But the celebration was not over.


    Queen Alicent led the way to the banquet hall, while Rhaegar and the other dragon masters headed to the Dragonpit. Corlys took Laena and his two granddaughters back to Driftmark by boat.


    The meeting had been agreed upon in advance. After the appointment of the Master of Dragons, everyone took up their respective duties.


    ...


    Above King''s Landing.


    "Roar..."


    Apanied by rising dragon roars, five giant dragons burst from the Dragonpit��Cannibal, Meleys, Sunfyre, and others. The people of King''s Landing paused to watch the majestic sight of the dragons dancing together.


    Meleys, swift as lightning, carried Rhaenys straight to ckwater Bay. Bored, Aegon followed on his Sunfyre.


    "Let''s go, too!" Rhaegar said, guiding the Cannibal with a calm demeanor. With a powerful flutter of wings, the Cannibal quickly left King''s Landing, followed by Rhaenyra on Syrax and Laenor on Sea Smoke.


    All three dragons passed through the clouds, traveling together for now. After they disappeared into the sky, the city of King''s Landing buzzed with news of the five dragons.


    At the entrance of the Dragonpit, Hena, dressed in white, held Aemond''s hand and stood on her tiptoes, looking at the sky.


    "Sister, the dragons have flown away," Aemond said gently, looking enviously at the sky.


    "I know," Hena replied, her big eyes full of determination. She beamed, "Let''s go! Let''s tame a dragon too!"


    "Yes!" Aemond nodded eagerly, allowing his sister to lead him.


    ...


    The three dragons soared through the sky.


    From King''s Landing, they passed Sow''s Horn, God''s Eye Lake, and the Saltpans.


    By dusk, they had flown over the Mountains of the Moon, surveying the endless ranges and treacherous peaks below. Soon they reached the first gate of the Vale of Arryn, the impregnable Bloody Gate.


    The Bloody Gate is a fortification consisting of a series of battlements on the cliffs on either side of the road leading from the Mountains of the Moon into the Vale of Arryn. Two watchtowers clung to the cliff face, connected by a weathered gray stone arch bridge.


    The walls had been defended by sessive Bloody Gate knights, who had repelled numerous enemies who had attempted to reach the Eyrie.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal''s roar echoed over the Bloody Gate, drawing the attention of the Bloody Gate knights. The dragon was the unmistakable symbol of House Targaryen. The appearance of three dragons in quick session could only signify the arrival of the royal family.


    In a flurry of movement, dozens of knights emerged and stood upright on the cliffs nking the arch bridge. A sturdy knight in heavy armor stood on the bridge, looking up at the approaching dragons.


    Rhaegar, observing the activity below, found it interesting.


    "This is a Bloody Gate knight. Should I greet him first?" Laenor asked gently, seated atop Seasmoke.


    It was gettingte, and it wasn''t wise to continue the journey at night. They decided to visit Eyrie City with Rhaegar''s brother and sister.


    Before Rhaegar could answer, the knight below shouted loudly, "Who wishes to pass through the Bloody Gate?" It was the duty of the Blood Gate Knights to question those attempting to pass through.


    Rhaenyra chuckled softly, ncing at the slightly exhausted Rhaegar and Laenor. "They��ve asked, so it��s only right to respond," she said.


    "Leave it to me," Laenor volunteered. He guided Seasmoke lower and announced, "This is the eldest son of Viserys I, heir to the Iron Throne, Rhaegar Targaryen."


    The Knight Commander��s pupils narrowed, and he puffed out his chest. "And who are thepanions?" he continued.


    "The eldest daughter of Viserys I, Princess of Dragonstone, Rhaenyra Targaryen, and me, heir to Driftmark, dragon rider, Laenor Vryon," Laenor dered proudly.


    "I understand. Let them pass!" the Knight Commander shouted. With a wave of his hand, he signaled the Blood Gate Knights on both sides of the cliff to stand down.


    Rhaegar found this interesting and whispered, "Let''s go. We need to reach the Eyrie before dark."


    Rhaenyra and Laenorplied, and together they rode their dragons through the towering Bloody Gate.


    Since the Heroic Age, countless soldiers and armies had perished here, unable to conquer the Vale of Arryn. Only once, during the Conquest, had Queen Visenyanded in the Eyrie��s garden with her dragon, Vhagar, easily bypassing the Bloody Gate. The young Lord of the Eyrie had been amazed as Vhagar descended from the sky, and Visenya held him in her arms and teased him. When his regent mother arrived, Visenya��s mere presence was enough for the Eyrie, and the entire Vale, to submit to Aegon the Conqueror.


    As the three dragons flew through the Bloody Gate, a fierce wind blew in their wake. The Knight Commander knelt on one knee, ced a hand on his chest, and shouted, "The Vale sends its sincere greetings to you, Prince!"


    "The Vale sends you its greetings!" echoed the rest of the Bloody Gate knights, falling to their knees in unison.


    The voices carried by the wind reached Rhaegar''s ears. He smiled faintly and urged Cannibal to speed up. His mother, Aemma Arryn, hailed from the Eyrie, making the Vale his natural ally.


    Passing through the Bloody Gate, the mountain range elevation increased, and the paths became narrower. Further up was the summit of the Gates of the Moon, the highest peak known as the Giant��s Lance.


    Rhaegar guided Cannibal higher, the air pressure posing no hindrance, as if breaking through an invisible barrier.


    "Roar..."


    In the blink of an eye, Cannibal rose into the sky, with the Giant��s Lance in sight.

 Chapter 161: The Eyrie

    Chapter 161: The Eyrie


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared incessantly, its massive body weaving through the peaks of the Giant''s Lance. asionally, green dragonfire red from its muzzle.


    Compared to the confines of the Dragonpit, the vast mountains provided a perfect wilderness for the dragon to unleash its power.


    Rhaegar didn''t rush Cannibal, allowing the dragon to revel in its freedom while he waited for Rhaenyra and Laenor to catch up. Syrax and Seasmoke had only just reached adulthood; their speed and endurance were still far inferior to Cannibal''s.


    Had he not been amodating them, Rhaegar would have arrived at the Eyrie long ago.


    He looked down at the Giant''s Lance below. From the mountain''s summit to the base of the Vale, the view was endless, bathed in the twilight hues of the setting sun.


    Eyrie towered over the top of the Mountains of the Moon, straddling the Giant''s Lance. Due to the treacherous terrain, The Eyrie was not veryrge, consisting of a cluster of seven long, slender white towers.


    At this moment, Cannibal''s roar echoed across the Giant''s Lance, naturally rming the inhabitants of the Eyrie. Guards emerged from the castle, forming two lines to protect a noble, tall woman with long hair and a graceful demeanor.


    "Roar..."The roars of Syrax and Seasmoke followed as the two dragons carried their masters over the Giant''s Lance. In full view of the public, the three dragons circled andnded in the front yard of the Eyrie Castle.


    Boom!


    Three waves of air rose, and the guards moved quickly to shield the long-haired woman.


    "Jeyne!" Rhaenyra shouted joyfully, dismounting first.


    "Rhaenyra!" The woman waved her guards aside as the smoke cleared, her surprise matching Rhaenyra''s.


    Rhaenyra, dressed in her ck riding attire, trotted forward. The woman, in her long skirt, greeted her with a swift swing of her dress. Soon, they met and embraced joyfully.


    "It''s been a long time, Rhaenyra," Jeyne said, smiling brightly and hugging Rhaenyra''s waist before kissing her cheek.


    Rhaenyra smiled daintily, patting Jeyne''s back. "It''s been half a year, and you''re still so slim," she said with a hint of jealousy.


    "Hmph, you''re as capricious as ever," Jeyne teased, pinching Rhaenyra''s waist to mock herck of diet control.


    As they spoke, Rhaegar and Laenor dismounted and approached. Jeyne, noticing them, whispered, "Let go of my hand. I need to perform a formal greeting."


    Two meters away, Rhaegar ced his hands on his belly and smiled. "The Targaryens greet you, Cousin Jeyne."


    Jeyne broke away from Rhaenyra, straightened her dress, and offered a formal salute. "The Eyrie wees you, Prince."


    The two maintained their formalities, meeting rarely but observing the courtesies.


    Laenor ced one hand on his chest and said solemnly, "Laenor of Driftmark, greetings to Lady Jeyne."


    "Give my regards to your parents, Ser Laenor," Jeyne replied with a warm smile, her demeanor gracious.


    "Well, now that everyone has greeted each other," Rhaenyra said, taking Jeyne''s hand and cing it over Rhaegar''s. "We''re family, there''s no need to be polite."


    Understanding his sister''s intention to bring him and Jeyne closer, Rhaegar took the initiative. "Forgive us for taking the liberty of visiting, cousin."


    "No need for forgiveness. The raven sent word long ago, and I have been looking forward to your arrival all these days," Jeyne replied graciously.


    Maintaining herdylike demeanor, Jeyne gestured, "I''ve prepared a reception for you, as you''vee a long way."


    "Thank you," Rhaenyra expressed gratitude.


    Guided by Rhaenyra, the group entered the castle, the atmosphere growing increasingly harmonious as they proceeded.


    The main hall of the castle, located on the first floor, greeted them with a long table in the center. At Jeyne''smand, the maids swiftly served tes of food, and soon the hosts and guests were seated.


    "Greetings, Prince," a beautifuldy with curly ck hair said as she brought thest dish, curtsying to Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar nced at her, noting her pale skin and striking dark eyes. Jeyne introduced her as "Lady Jessamyn of the Redfort House, my good friend apanying me."


    "Greetings, Lady Jessamyn," Rhaegar replied with a faint smile.


    "You are as handsome as the rumors say, and also very graceful," Jessamynplimented, offering Rhaegar a light embrace and a kiss on the cheek.


    Rhaegar''s face stiffened slightly, and he nodded in acknowledgment of thepliment.


    "Jessamyn, you''re too passionate," Jeyne scolded her friend gently, then guided Rhaegar to a seat at the long table.


    Observing the interaction, Rhaenyra couldn''t help but feel a sense of amusement. Catching Rhaegar''s eye, she exchanged a knowing smile with him. She had heard the rumors about Jeyne and Jessamyn''s close rtionship, so she was relieved that they were weing Rhaegar warmly.


    Meanwhile, Laenor, uninterested in thedies, surveyed the guards at the door, seeking apanion with simr interests.


    As the banquet proceeded, Rhaenyra, after taking a few bites of her food, inquired, "Cousin, why don''t we see Lord Yorbert?"


    His full name was Yorbert Royce, he was the Lord of Runestone and the current Lord Protector of the Vale, Jeyne''s mentor and guardian, he had resigned from his title when Jeyne was three years old to assist her in managing the Eyrie.


    Jeyne paused, her expression turning slightly grave. "I believe you''ve heard of the rebellion of the Mountain ns."


    "Not long ago, the Mountain ns attacked the Hunter House in Longbow Hall," Jeyne exined. "Upon hearing the news, Lord Yorbert summoned his bannermen and led his army to support Longbow Hall."


    Rhaegar frowned, surprised by the severity of the situation. "The influence of the Mountain ns is this serious?"


    Jeyne reassured him, "You can rest assured, Lord Yorbert is skilled with bow and horse. The Mountain ns, who are like scattered sand, will not take long to be defeated."


    Rhaegar nodded, acknowledging her words tacitly. He sensed an undercurrent of unease in Jeyne''s tone but refrained from pressing further, respecting her reluctance to discuss the matter in depth.


    Rhaenyra, however, had no such reservations. Turning to Jeyne, she asked, "Jeyne, with the impending war between the kingdom and the Three Sisters, how many knights of the Vale can be deployed?"


    Jeyne exined the difficulty of deploying more men due to the Vale''s own troubles, with most troops gathered in Longbow Hall. "If you wish support for the Stepstones Battle, you should turn to the great families of Gulltown."


    Understanding the purpose of their visit, Rhaenyra was concerned about the Vale''s capacity to contribute to the war effort.


    "Cousin, why don''t you let me take the dragon and ride to aid Lord Yorbert, and put an end to the rebellion once and for all?" Rhaegar offered, eager to assist.


    Jeyne''s eyes lit up at the suggestion, but before she could respond, Jessamyn kicked her friend discreetly under the table.


    Jeyne fell silent, as if suddenly remembering something.

 Chapter 162: Rhaegar’s Charm

    Chapter 162: Rhaegar��s Charm


    Rhaegar sharply noticed Jeyne''s reaction and asked, "What''s the matter, cousin?"


    Jeyne smiled apologetically. "Nothing, just something that suddenly came to mind. In a couple of days, it will be Lady Rhea''s wedding. Lord Yorbert will be back in time, so you can talk to him then."


    "Is that so?" Rhaegar kept his expression neutral, but inwardly, doubts arose. Yorbert was Lady Rhea''s uncle, and he had passed the earldom to his niece. It made sense for him to return in time for her wedding.


    Jeyne resumed her confident smile, got up, and sat next to Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra naturally drew close to her and asked, "I hear your cousin Arnold Arryn is questioning your inheritance?"


    "Yes, and I have driven him away," Jeyne sighed helplessly. "The boy was quite good, but unfortunately, too ambitious."


    Rhaegar took a sip of sweet wine, listening intently to their conversation. Arnold Arryn was Jeyne''s uncle''s son, just eleven years old and working as a squire at Runestone. In terms of male inheritance, Arnold indeed had a stronger im than Jeyne. However, Jeyne had already inherited the Eyrie at the age of three, long before Arnold was even born.


    Rhaenyra, concerned for her best friend, took Jeyne''s arm. "Protect yourself. You are the first female Lord of the Vale."


    Jeyne hummed softly, ncing at Rhaegar. "I said the same to you a few years ago."


    Rhaenyra puffed out her chest proudly. "I lost my inheritance rights but gained more. I don''t have to fight for my ce or make peace with advisers. I have my own fiefdom, and most importantly, no arranged marriages. Over the years, I''ve traveled between King''s Landing and Dragonstone, asionally visiting the maind. I''ve been living a happy life."Rhaegar nced at her and remained silent. If Rhaenyra had been morepetitive, she would have lived the life she deserved.


    Jeyne''s eyes filled with envy. She looked at Rhaegar and quietly asked, "Do you n to follow the traditions of House Targaryen?"


    Rhaenyra blushed slightly and rolled her eyes, ignoring her friend''s question.


    Seeing this, Jeyne''s eyes sparkled. She stared at Rhaenyra for a while, making her ufortable. Rhaenyra pushed her friend''s face away in annoyance, causing Jeyne tough uncontrobly.


    Jeyne stole a nce at Rhaegar''s profile��his long blonde and silver hair, pale handsome face, and clear purple eyes.


    As the two women bickered yfully, the party grew livelier. Laenor, having filled his stomach, stood up and excused himself. "Thank you for the hospitality. I''m a little tired and will go rest."


    Jeyne smiled delicately. "Then I wish you good dreams."


    "Thank you," Laenor replied, smiling as he walked over to Rhaegar. "Cousin, I''ll continue my journey in the morning, so I''ll head down first."


    Rhaegar nodded, watching Laenor head towards the second floor. As Laenor passed a thin male attendant, they exchanged a knowing look, and the attendant followed Laenor upstairs.


    Rhaegar watched nkly, feeling a sort of admiration for Laenor. He had just arrived at the Eyrie, the banquet wasn''t over, and he had already found his "prey."


    Rhaenyra noticed this and pinched Rhaegar''s arm. "The Vryon House may not have a throne, but father is still waiting for you to carry on the family line."


    Laenor''s preferences were well known��he only yed with boys and never touched women. The Sea Snake, Corlys, was very worried about this.


    Rhaegar chuckled. "I am not interested in men. Mature women are my favorite." As he said this, he nced at the three women present and leaned back in his chair. After his father''s teachings, Rhaegar had be much more open about his attractions. His father had told him that there was no woman a Targaryen man couldn''t capture.


    Rhaenyra red at him, a silent warning. Jeyne and Jessamyn exchanged looks and turned their heads as if they hadn''t heard.


    The party continued with the three women exchanging drinks andughter. As the hall began to quiet down, Rhaegar excused himself and went up to the second floor to rest.


    ...


    Night


    After the banquet, the three drunken women helped each other up to the third floor. First, they saw Rhaenyra to her guest room, then Jeyne and Jessamyn returned together to the master bedroom.


    Creak...


    The cedar door closed, and Jeyne patted her red cheeks, her eyes clearing, no longer appearing drunk. Jessamyn didn''t even blush as she elegantly walked to the bed and sat down.


    Leaning against the doorframe, Jeyne whispered, "You shouldn''t have stopped me. By sending out a dragon, the Mountain n''s rebellion would be quickly quelled."


    "Arnold is hiding in the shadows. If you don''t lure him out, your lordship will be over sooner orter," Jessamyn warned.


    "Rhaegar is my cousin. He will support me," Jeyne insisted.


    "Don''t forget where he got his heirship from," Jessamyn countered.


    Jeyne held her forehead and said no more. Jessamyn''s disdain for men was too strong to argue with.


    Jeyne walked back to the bedside andid downnguidly, murmuring, "Let''s wait a little longer. If Yorbert can''t solve the Mountain ns issue, then I''ll ask for help."


    Rhaegar and Rhaenyra were also going to attend the wedding in Runestone and would stay in the Vale for a while. With their rtionship, there was no fear of not getting help.


    ...


    The Following Day


    In the front yard of the Eyrie Castle, Laenor, wearing leather armor, stood in front of the light silver-gray scaled Sea Smoke. Rhaegar and the others were there to bid him farewell.


    "I''m leaving. You guys be careful in the Vale as well," Laenor said, giving each of them a hug, his dark-skinned face full of smiles.


    "Take care on the road. We''ll wait for your good news," Rhaegar urged patiently.


    Laenor''s smile grew even bigger as he climbed up the softdder onto the back of the dragon and waved from above. Rhaegar returned the smile, knowing from Laenor''s demeanor thatst night''s experience had been enjoyable.


    "Roar..."


    With a roar, Sea Smoke pped its wings and slowly rose into the air. Not long after, the light silver-gray dragon disappeared from view.


    Rhaenyra stood by Rhaegar''s side and said softly, "Jeyne will be leaving soon, so let''s follow along?"


    Rhaegar looked at Jeyne with surprise. "The wedding in Runestone City is still a few days away, right?"


    "We don''t have dragons, and we have to bring our gifts, so of course we have to leave early," Jeyne exined, smoothing her long chestnut-colored hair blown by the wind.


    "Simple," Rhaegar said, smiling. "Rhaenyra and I will ride the dragons and carry you."


    "Before we left for the Vale, I ordered five hundred Dragonkeepers to go ahead with the goods from the Mushroom Set''s caravan. They should arrive soon," he added.


    After a pause, he continued, "Among them are gifts I have selected from goods all over the world, and they will be specially delivered to the Eyrie."

 Chapter 163: Crackclaw Wildlings vs Mountain Clans

    Chapter 163: Crackw Wildlings vs Mountain ns


    The Mushroom Set''s merchant caravan only operated in the Crownds and the Rivends.


    Taking advantage of this trip to the Vale, Rhaegar nned to open up a new trade route. The Mushroom Set''s caravan was to be developed in the Vale.


    Facing Rhaegar''s invitation, Jeyne raised her eyebrows lightly and hesitated. Rhaenyra noticed her expression and, with a mischievous smile, said, "What, you don''t dare?"


    She knew her good sister was afraid of heights.


    Jeyne tilted her head defiantly. "I am the Lady of the Eyrie. Do you think I will be afraid?"


    "How about I carry you?" Rhaenyra teased, closing in on her.


    "Just let the dragon through," Jeyne replied, fear aside, full of determination.


    ...


    Noon, in the guest room.Rhaegar stayed in the cramped, stone-built room, holding a letter from Driftmark.


    "A letter from Driftmark? What does it say?" Rhaenyra, sitting on the edge of the bed, looked a little worried.


    "Don''t worry, it''s good news," Rhaegar replied, handing her the letter with satisfaction. "Corlys'' fleet was stationed at Bloodstone Ind. Pirates from the Three Sisters tried tounch a sneak attack, but just as the Stornds'' fleet arrived, they were caught in a pincer movement and wiped out."


    "The first battle is a great sess, and the advantage is ours," Rhaegar added, watching Rhaenyra smile, pleased with the victory at the Stepstones.


    "Yes, Corlys has secured his position in the Stepstones. Once support from the rest of the realm arrives, the Three Sisters will be defeated," Rhaegar analyzed, considering the support from the Vale.


    Once the wedding ceremony at Runestone was over and the fleet in Gulltown was gathered, they could proceed with their ns. As for the rebellion of the mountain ns, if Jeyne asked for help, he would hold the dragon at the ready. If Yorbert resolved it, they��d head straight for the Stepstones.


    "This cousin of ours is a bit unreliable," Rhaegar mentioned abruptly.


    Rhaenyra tilted her head, "How so?"


    "A woman in charge of the overall situation, relying on the Regent''s bannermen to fight foreign wars��I suspect she doesn''t have enough real power," Rhaegar spected boldly.


    "Jeyne has Yorbert''s counsel, and the Vale has not been in chaos all these years," Rhaenyra countered, thinking of the Defender of the Vale who is out in the field.


    Rhaegar shook his head. "Yorbert is getting old. If he passes away, there will be countless troubles for Jeyne."


    Yorbert had resigned from his position as the Lord of Runestone in his prime and had supported Jeyne for over twenty years. The death of such an old man would not be sudden.


    "Aren''t you still here?" Rhaenyra murmured. "Jeyne is our blood rtive, your staunch supporter. You can''t just stand by and watch."


    "I''ll help her, but she has to be strong herself," Rhaegar said indifferently. "Let''s see how Jeyne responds to this Vale rebellion."


    Rhaenyra was unsure and looked at him quizzically.


    "Shh~ Listen," Rhaegar said, suddenly cing his index finger on his lips and pointing to the narrow window.


    Bewildered, Rhaenyra pressed her ear a little closer. "Hear what?"


    "A noise?" Rhaenyra looked skeptical, feeling he was ying a trick on her.


    "It''s the sound of Alyssa''s Tears," Rhaegar said, pulling her up and pushing open the wooden door to go outside. "There are many sights in the Vale. I''ve seen the Bloody Gate and the Giant��s Lance, but I haven''t yet seen Alyssa''s Tears."


    His pace quickened, and he quickly walked down the stairs and out of the castle gates.


    "Roar...," Cannibal, his dragon, had long been waiting in the front yard of the castle, its green eyes staring at the two approaching.


    Rhaegar pushed Rhaenyra up the softdder, and they sat together in the saddle.


    "Let''s go, Cannibal!"


    "Roar...," Cannibal shook itself, ran a few steps on both feet, lifted its wings, and took off.


    "Rhaegar!" Rhaenyra, riding on Cannibal for the first time, gripped the saddle with a mix of nervousness and excitement.


    "Don''t be afraid. Syrax is too slow. I''ll show you Cannibal''s speed," Rhaegar reassured her, staying close with a smile.


    Sensing his rider''s wish, Cannibal picked up speed, plunging into the clouds and then charging back up.


    "Ah!..." Rhaenyra screamed, unable to hold on, gripping Rhaegar tightly.


    Rhaegarughed and rose from the saddle, enjoying the weightlessness against the howling wind. He would never fall off the dragon''s back. It was just a trick he and Cannibal had practiced to strengthen their bond.


    In a few moments, Cannibal flew to the west side of the Giant��s Lance. A huge waterfall appeared before them. The sound of the water falling like a torrent was like a roar.


    "This is Alyssa''s Tears," Rhaegar said, pointing to the waterfall located at the top of a towering mountain. ording to legend, a woman named Alyssa Arryn watched her father, husband, and children being killed without shedding a single tear.


    The gods punished her by turning her into a waterfall after her death. The gods forgave her for her indifference when the waterfall''s water once again irrigated the fertile ck soil of the Vale. Interestingly, not a single drop of water from the waterfall has ever fallen on the ins of the Vale.


    "When you visit the Vale, you can''t miss the view," Rhaegar said, marveling at the sight.


    ...


    Mountains of the Moon


    In the dense forests along a mountain trail, a convoy of wagons moved slowly. The caravan was long, guarded by hundreds of soldiers d in armor. At the head of the procession, a silver-armored and white-robed member of the Kingsguard led the way.


    "Ser Erryk, wait," called a soft male voice from behind.


    Erryk turned back, cautiously addressing the voice. "What is it, Tormund?"


    Tormund, leaning against a covered wagon, looked bewildered. "I see arge group of men hiding on the hill road ahead. They have iron weapons, bows, and arrows."


    "How many?" Erryk''s brow furrowed.


    "Around three hundred," Tormund estimated.


    Erryk''s expression grew serious. He called arge soldier over and ordered, "Stop the caravan. Three hundred men stay behind; two hundred men follow me."


    "Yes!" the soldier responded, rallying two hundred tall soldiers with great efficiency. These were former Crackw Point freefolk, now serving as Dragonkeepers of the Dragonpit, apanying the Kingsguard to transport goods to the Vale.


    Erryk swiftly mounted his horse and led the two hundred soldiers into the dense forest, advancing quickly.


    ...


    Meanwhile, a group of rough men in animal skinsy in the dense shrubs, eyes fixed on the distant intersection. They had heard from scouts that a group of wellden travelers had entered the Mountains of the Moon, ripe for plundering.


    The tribe, poor and desperate, had been waiting for a long time with no sign of the caravan. Growing impatient, a one-eyed bandit poked his head out. "Where''s that caravan? Why hasn''t it arrived yet?" he grumbled.


    p! An ugly, burly man emerged from the bushes, striking the one-eyed bandit. "Patience. Make another sound and I''ll rip your head off and stuff it up your arse."


    Whoosh��


    Before he finished speaking, a sharp arrow flew through the air, piercing the one-eyed bandit''s remaining good eye.


    Pfft��


    The iron arrow exited through the back of his head. The one-eyed bandit, his expression still grimacing, staggered and fell to the ground.


    The burly man looked dumbfounded, blurting out, "Now he��s only got his arsehole left."

 Chapter 164: The Clever Shagga

    Chapter 164: The Clever Shagga


    "Kill!!!"


    Shouts of battle erupted from all directions as a swarm of soldiers emerged from the dense forest.


    Erryk led the charge, his sword cleaving the head of a mountain ns man. "Leave no one behind!" he roared.


    The Dragonkeepers, d in armor, advanced valiantly. Swords and axes gleamed as they hacked through the mountain men who were too weak to resist.


    In the blink of an eye, the Dragonkeepers had shed their way through the mountain ns people''s ranks, blood staining the bushes. Faced with their superior equipment and ferocity, the mountain ns men scattered like frightened birds.


    "Don''t run away, stand and fight!" bellowed the burly leader, raising a double-ded axe. He smashed the heads of two Dragonkeepers and rallied a group of warriors.


    Swish, swish, swish...


    A shower of arrows rained down from the forest, piercing the bodies of the mountain n mens without mercy. The burly man, startled, grabbed a warrior to shield himself from the first wave of arrows. But another wave quickly followed.


    "Ah!..."The arrows didn''t target the burly man but shot down the men who were trying to escape down the trail. Screams filled the air as they fell.


    Erryk, his sword plunging through a man''s chest, shouted, "The front squad pursues! Rear nk, secure the battlefield!"


    "Yes!" The Dragonkeepers split into two groups. Archers fired from the shadows, picking off the enemy one by one.


    Within ten minutes, the battlefield was littered with the corpses of the mountain ns tribe members.


    "Ser, I have captured their leader," announced a tall soldier, dragging the burly man forward and kicking him down before Erryk.


    "Bastard! Have the guts to let me go and fight alone!" the burly man spat, his face smeared with dirt.


    Bang...


    The tall soldier kicked him in the head. "Be honest, dumbass!"


    "You piece of shit, my name is Shagga, smart Shagga!" The burly man, Shagga, cursed as he spat out more dirt.


    The soldier raised his hand to strike again, but Erryk waved him off. "Trangal, I''ll interrogate him myself."


    "Yes!" The former Crab w, Trangal, stepped aside, respecting the Kingsguard.


    Erryk pulled his white robe behind him, wiping his blood-stained sword. "Shagga, which Mountain n do you belong to?"


    "Who do you think you are, daring to question the clever Shagga!" Shagga sneered defiantly.


    Swish...


    Erryk''s long sword sliced through the air, severing one of Shagga''s ears. The bloody ear fell to the ground and twitched.


    "Ah! Damn you, you cut off Shagga''s ear!"


    Shagga screamed, clutching his head and writhing in pain. Erryk nted his boot on Shagga''s neck and pressed the tip of his sword to Shagga''s forehead, speaking coldly, "I''ll ask you again, which Mountain n are you from?"


    "The Stone Crow n, Shaggaes from the Stone Crow n," Shagga admitted, fear oveing him.


    Erryk continued, "The Stone Crows are arge tribe among the Mountain ns. Are you involved in the rebellion?"


    "Yes, Shagga and his two foolish brothers gathered many warriors and scattered them throughout the Vale," Shagga confessed.


    "How many of you are there, and how many are involved in the rebellion?"


    "The Stone Crows tribe has a thousand people. The ck Ears tribe, the Burned Men tribe, and the Painted Dogs tribe are part of ten or so tribes, adding up to tens of thousands of people."


    "Then howe you only have this many people here?"


    "The tribal warriors were taken by Shagga''s two foolish brothers to follow the me Witch in her siege of the Hall of Longbows."


    "Who is the me Witch?" Erryk frowned, suspicious of the term "witch."


    Shagga, trembling, said, "A red-robed woman with arge naiad, a messenger of some god who can summon fire."


    "Really?" Erryk was skeptical.


    "Shagga did not lie. The me Witch seduced my father, and I saw her use mes to cover her weapons," Shagga replied, a mix of fear and envy in his eyes.


    "Ser, is the interrogation over?" Tormund''s Falcon, seeing the end of the fighting, led his team over as the Dragonkeepers continued to clear the battlefield.


    Erryk mused, "Almost, but there''s something unsettling about it." He nced at the white falcon circling in the sky. Magic existed in the world, and Skinchangers, just like dragons, had their own mysterious gifts. Erryk took Shagga''s words with a grain of salt.


    "I will send more eyes to observe the Vale," Tormund said, wary of the trial''s revtions.


    "I told the truth. Can you let me go?" Shagga asked, hoping for mercy.


    Erryk sneered, "Killing you degrades my sword. Get lost!"


    "A wise Shagga thanks you, Tin Man." Shagga, overjoyed, ran off.


    Ka-ching...


    Just a dozen steps away, a double-ded axe flew through the air, striking Shagga in the back of the head. His skull cracked, and he fell dead.


    Erryk nced at Trangal, who had thrown the axe, and asked, "Is he smart?"


    Trangal scratched his head and grinned, "Obviously."


    "Bury the corpses on the spot and set up camp on the hillside tonight!" Erryk ordered, sheathing his sword and ncing at the sky.


    ...


    A few dayster.


    Eyrie Castle��s front yard.


    The Cannibaly prostrate on the ground, allowing a servant to climb the softdder and secure various gift boxes. Rhaegar stood by the dragon''s head, gently rubbing its muzzle. "It will be over soon, don''t be angry," he murmured.


    "Roar..." The Cannibal bobbed its head slightly, a low growl rumbling from its throat, showing its displeasure.


    "Be patient." Rhaegar pressed his hands against the dragon''s scales, smiling reassuringly.


    Rhaenyra approached with light steps and asked, "Not waiting for Erryk and the others?"


    "Runestone has sent a raven urging us to hurry. Jeyne needs to go ahead to help set up," Rhaegar replied. "The roads in the Vale are rugged, and with Erryk��s caravan being sorge, I think they were dyed on the way."


    King''s Landing was far from the Vale, and the mountain roads within the Vale were notoriously difficult to traverse. Rhaegar understood Erryk''s dy.


    "You should leave a letter for him, so he doesn��te to the Eyrie for nothing," Rhaenyra suggested, cing a hand on his shoulder.


    "No need, he��ll find me," Rhaegar shook his head with a confidentugh, trusting in the abilities of Erryk and Tormund. Both were key members of his inner circle, known for their bravery and insight.


    After chatting for a while, the servants finished securing the gift chests, tying them to the saddle with hemp ropes. Soon after, Jeyne arrived with Jessamyn, whispering, "Ready to go?"


    Rhaegar turned to see the two women in their corsets and dresses, looking poised yet different. Jeyne forced a smile, ncing nervously at the ck dragon beside Rhaegar and fidgeting with her fingers. Jessamyn held her hand, looking at the Cannibal with anticipation.


    Noting their emotions, Rhaenyra and Rhaegar exchanged nces and said in unison, "Of course!"

 Chapter 165: Runestone

    Chapter 165: Runestone


    Syrax hovered over Eyrie Castle beforending gently in the courtyard.


    Rhaenyra stepped forward and took Jeyne''s hand, inviting her, "How about the two of us share a dragon?"


    Jeyne nced nervously between the Cannibal and Syrax, her apprehension clear. She shook her head and declined, "Let Jessamyn ride with you. I''ll take the ck dragon."


    The Cannibal, over three times the size of Syrax, had a strong ck body and a wide, t spine. For Jeyne, who feared heights, it offered a greater sense of security.


    Rhaenyra grunted softly but didn''t push further.


    "Cousin, please," Jeyne said, extending her hand towards Rhaegar, clearly nervous.


    Rhaegar took her hand and helped her climb the softdder. In a voice only they could hear, Rhaenyra whispered to him, "Make sure Jeyne enjoys the ride."


    Rhaegar, puzzled, asked, "Aren''t you sisters?"


    "I can''t keep quiet when she jokes, and she won''t forget it," Rhaenyra replied, her tone brooking no argument. She then turned and led Jessamyn towards Syrax."Tsk, tsk, no wonder Alicent and Laena can''t get along with you," Rhaegar muttered, shaking his head and smacking his lips. "But I like it!"


    As he climbed onto the dragon''s back, Jeyne was fastening her safety chains.


    "Hold on to the grips tightly; the Cannibal flies fast," Rhaegar reminded her as he settled into the saddle.


    "Uh-huh," Jeyne replied, too nervous to speak, her eyes wide with fear. Who would have thought that the Lady of the Eyrie, perched in the highest castle on the continent, would be afraid of heights?


    "Cannibal, let''s go!" Rhaegarmanded, and the Cannibal leapt into the air, soaring towards Runestone.


    "Roar..." Syrax followed closely behind, pping its wings to keep up.


    Runestoney north of Gulltown, adjacent to the Bay of Crabs, with its castle built on the sea. As the two dragons soared over the ins of the Vale and the southern mountains of the Mountains of the Moon, they could see the Bay of Crabs in the distance between the eastern Vale and Crackw Point.


    The distance between the Eyrie and Runestone was simr to that between King''s Landing and Dragonstone Ind. At its normal flying speed, the Cannibal would reach Runestone before noon.


    ...


    Runestone


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal''s roar echoed like a thunderp as the pitch-ck dragon appeared over the Vale near the castle. Its vertical pupils surveyed the scene below with keen judgment.


    Rhaegar looked down at the majestic castle built in the middle of the t terrain, amon architectural style in the Vale.


    "Land, Cannibal."


    Rhaegar held the pale-faced Jeyne close, guiding the Cannibal towards the castle. He hadn''t intended to frighten her, but her repeated pleas to hurry had made him anxious about their altitude, prompting the Cannibal to fly at full speed to reach Runestone as quickly as possible.


    Boom!


    The Cannibal''s massive bodynded in the castle courtyard with a resounding thud. Lady Rhea and a group of guests emerged from the castle to wee the royal family.


    "We''ve arrived."


    Rhaegar unfastened the chain around Jeyne''s waist and helped her dismount. "I''m a little dizzy; tell them my regards." she murmured weakly, leaning against him as she fought off nausea. The dragon ride had nearly overwhelmed her.


    As the people in the castle gathered around them, Lady Rhea approached swiftly, her demeanor asposed and sharp as ever. She assessed Jeyne''s condition with concern.


    "Help her inside; she''s feeling ill," Rhaegar instructed, passing Jeyne to Lady Rhea. "I wish you a happy wedding, Lady Rhea."


    "I need a husband to impregnate me; this marriage is better than the first," Rhea remarked with a hint of self-pity, her outlook on marriage seemingly bleak.


    "Rhea, how is Lady Jeyne?" a middle-aged man with a beard asked, approaching with concern.


    "I''m fine, let''s wee the prince and Lady Jeyne into the castle first," Rhea replied, then introduced the man to Rhaegar. "This is my fianc��, Gerold Royce."


    "Greetings, Prince," Gerold said respectfully.


    "No need for formalities, Ser Gerold," Rhaegar replied, feeling a bit awkward meeting his aunt''s fianc��. His thoughts briefly wandered to Daemon, imprisoned in the dungeons of King''s Landing.


    "My good uncle, will he regret not drinking his ex-wife''s wedding wine?" Rhaegar mused with a quiet chuckle.


    As Rhaegar and Jeyne approached the castle, more guests came forward to greet them.


    "Prince, House Arryn of Gulltown salutes you."


    "Prince, House Grafton of Gulltown salutes you."


    "Prince, House Melcolm of Old Anchor salutes you."


    Rhaegar smiled warmly, acknowledging each greeting. "Greetings, my lords. Please forgive me and Lady Jeyne; we''ve traveled a long way and may need to rest for a while."


    Turning to Gerold, he added, "On the back of the dragon are gifts from the royal family and the Eyrie for your wedding. I''ll help you retrieve themter."


    Gerold nced nervously at the Cannibal, its spine towering like a castle wall. He swallowed hard. "There''s no hurry, Prince."


    Gerold had met dragons before, including Daemon''s Caraxes, but the Cannibal''s sheer size and menacing appearance were overwhelming. The Cannibal''s green eyes and ck scales gave it an aura of malevolent power.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal, sensing the humans'' attention, lowered its head, its piercing eyes scrutinizing the gathered crowd. Everyone instinctively took a step back.


    "Cannibal, don''t scare my friends!" Rhaegar chided gently, hiding a smile.


    "Prince, pleasee inside," Gerold urged, gesturing toward the castle and leading Rhaegar in, surrounded by the crowd.


    The castle''s first floor featured a grand hall,vishly decorated. Rhaegar called for a maid to assist Jeyne upstairs to rest while Gerold stayed to manage the guests.


    Rhaegar took the first chair beneath the main seat, greeting the nobles of the Vale one by one. Most were from the southern part of the Vale, untouched by the Mountain ns'' rebellion. Gerold, despite his ordinary appearance, was courteous and attentive, ensuring everyone felt wee.


    Among the guests, Rhaegar spotted familiar faces from Crackw Point, including Yara Crabbe of Whispering Castle. After a brief greeting, Rhaegar asked, "Why don''t I see your father?"


    Yara''s beautiful face turned somber. She forced a smile. "Father''s health has been declining these past few years. I represent the Crabbe House."


    "What a pity," Rhaegar replied, offeringfort. Despite the years, he felt a deep sense of nostalgia for the family that had been loyal to him since childhood.

 Chapter 166: The Lord of Gulltown’s Goodwill

    Chapter 166: The Lord of Gulltown��s Goodwill


    Rhaegar had only exchanged a few words with Yara before she was called away by other nobledies.


    He hadn''t even had a chance to take a sip of water when a tall, white-haired old man approached, apanied by two teenagers.


    The man and the young people bore a tower-like emblem on their cors: a yellow burning tower on a ck triangle, set against a me-like red background. This was the coat of arms of the House Grafton, lords of Gulltown.


    With a warm smile, the old man bowed slightly. "Prince Rhaegar, Grimm Grafton at your service."


    Rhaegar stood and returned the greeting, "Lord Grimm, it''s good to see you again."


    The purpose of this trip was to garner support from the influential lords of Gulltown, so a friendly demeanor was essential.


    Gulltown, with its natural harbor on the Bay of Crabs, south of Runestone, was one of the five major cities in Westeros, rivaling White Harbor but smaller than Lannisport, Oldtown, and King''s Landing. The Grafton House held significant wealth and influence in this crucial city.


    "Prince, you have grown even more handsome and noble since Ist saw you," Grimm said, his tone friendly. He then introduced the teenagers. "These are my grandchildren, Joffrey and Jonelle."


    Rhaegar observed them closely. Joffrey, about sixteen or seventeen, was handsome with the Grafton House''s signature ck curly hair and light gray eyes.Jonelle, simrly aged, was strikingly beautiful with a notably fit physique. To Rhaegar��s surprise, Jonelle had silver-blonde curls and purple eyes��a ssic Valyrian appearance.


    "Miss Jonelle''s hair color..." Rhaegar began, ncing curiously at Lord Grimm.


    Grimmughed, his eyes shining. "My grandmother was Lady Prudence of House Celtigar. Jonelle inherited her Valyrian characteristics from her great-grandmother two generations ago."


    "Ah, I see. Lady Jonelle is truly a sight to behold," Rhaegar praised, genuinely impressed.


    He recalled the historical connection between the Grafton and Celtigar Houses. The Graftons'' wealth made them desirable allies, and many great houses sought marriages with them.


    Moreover, in the brief history of House Targaryen, it was mentioned that Lady Prudence had once saved Rhaegar''s great-grandmother, Queen Alysanne.


    Feeling a genuine warmth, Rhaegar''s smile broadened, and he engaged in an even more enthusiastic conversation. Jonelle stood by her brother''s side, her head slightly bowed and her cheeks tinged with pink as she stole nces at Rhaegar.


    The conversation concluded. Rhaegar broached a serious topic, "Lord Grimm, the war between the Kingdom and the Three Daughters is about to begin, and we need your house''s support."


    "Prince, I''ve already received the raven," Old Grimm replied cheerfully. "The Grafton House of Gulltown is ready to fight for His Majesty and for you, Prince, whenever needed."


    "Excellent," Rhaegar said, his respect for the old man increasing. "With your family''s help, the kingdom will surely defeat the Triarchy."


    The kingdom needed loyal bannermen who could step up in critical moments.


    "Prince, I still have to catch up with a few old friends. You young people can carry on better without me," Old Grimm said, excusing himself and leaving his grandchildren behind.


    As the old man departed, Rhaegar, Joffrey, and Jonelle found themselves in an awkward silence.


    "Prince, let me pour you a ss of wine," Jonelle offered delicately, picking up the wine bottle with a shy, timid expression.


    "Thank you," Rhaegar said, taking a polite sip despite not usually drinking wine. He felt even thirstier afterward.


    Old Grimm''s quick promise and leaving his grandchildren behind signaled a clear intent. Rhaegar understood what he meant. He nced at Jonelle. She was a pretty girl, her Valyrian features making him feel a sense of kinship. However, he didn''t favor shy girls.


    Turning his attention to Joffrey, Rhaegar said, "Joffrey, I see you wear a sword at your waist. Do you practice swordsmanship?"


    "Yes, Your Highness," Joffrey replied formally. "I have been studying and practicing since I was young."


    The Grafton House was known for its strict and thorough training.


    "Rx," Rhaegar waved a hand. "You��re a bit older than me, so let��s just talk casually."


    After a moment''s thought, Rhaegar asked, "How skilled are you with a sword? Have you considered bing a knight?"


    "Yes, Prince," Joffrey''s eyes lit up but then dimmed as he added, "My sword teacher says my talent is average. It''s hard for me to excel."


    "Talent is important, but hard work and dedication are the keys to sess," Rhaegar encouraged, offering an olive branch. "Are you interested in taking up some official positions?"


    "I''ve only managed some ounts with my grandfather. I have no experience in governance," Joffrey exined, though his excitement was palpable.


    "You could start by serving wine and observing how other advisers handle their duties," Rhaegar suggested, leaving no stone unturned in his efforts to draw Joffrey closer.


    Rhaegar wasn''t interested in marrying Old Grimm''s granddaughter, so he decided to focus on her brother. He believed Old Grimm would understand his intentions.


    After chatting with the siblings for a while, Lady Rhea came downstairs and called the attendants to arrange the banquet.


    The wedding banquet was still two days away, but a reception banquet had to be held for the arriving nobles.


    Long tables were set for the feast. Rhaegar, as heir, sat at the head table with Lady Rhea, her betrothed Gerold, the esteemed Lord Grimm, and other high-ranking nobles.


    Lady Rhea presided over the event, while Gerold sat beside her.


    Rhaegar, with his noble status, sat across from them, alone at one end of the table. The people of the Vale were passionate, and the atmosphere at the banquet was lively, with much shouting andughter. Rhaegar yed the role of spectator, responding to toasts from time to time.


    Nearby tables were filled with nobledies and their daughters. Many of them were drawn to Rhaegar''s handsome face and sought to speak with him. Old Grimm, seeing an opportunity, called Jonelle over to pour wine for Rhaegar, citing his difort in doing so alone.


    This action set off a flurry of activity. Other nobles, seeing a chance to present their daughters to the prince, began calling them over for various reasons, hoping to catch Rhaegar''s eye.


    The nobles at this table were not fools. They knew the kingdom was preparing for war with the Triarchy, and Rhaegar''s presence in the Vale was a clear sign of his intentions to rally loyal supporters. They understood the potential benefits of aligning their families with the royal family.


    The greatest benefit would be a marriage alliance with the royal family. If their daughters or granddaughters could attract Rhaegar''s attention, their family''s future would be assured.


    Rhaegar found himself surrounded by eager young women. The attention was ttering, but the enthusiasm was overwhelming. The nobledies vied for the chance to pour him wine, nearly tearing each other apart in the process.


    From a practical standpoint, Rhaegar thought, what good is it to pour wine for him when he doesn''t even drink it?


    Halfway through the banquet, a dragon''s roar echoed from the sky above the castle. A gust of wind kicked up dust and rattled the hall''s zed windows.

 Chapter 167: The Angry Rhaenyra

    Chapter 167: The Angry Rhaenyra


    "It''s Syrax," Rhaegar announced as he rose, "Rhaenyra has arrived."


    He immediately left the table to greet her, and the other nobles followed his lead, not daring to dy.


    The castle gate swung open, revealing Syraxnding in the front yard. The dragon''s scales glimmered, its crown of horns curving backward, and its head held high in regal splendor.


    Rhaenyra, dressed in ck dragon-riding attire with her hair braided behind her head, descended the softdder. Her demeanor mirrored the dragon''s arrogance.


    Behind her, a disheveled Jessamyn followed, her cheeks tense and her steps unsteady. It was clear she had endured a rough ride, much like Jeyne.


    "Rhaenyra, did you have a safe trip?" Rhaegar asked as he stepped forward.


    "Aside from being left behind by you, it was business as usual," Rhaenyra replied, smoothing her hair and greeting Lady Rhea and the other nobles with calm familiarity.


    She knew these people well; they had all sworn allegiance to her before, making her more at ease than Rhaegar.


    Once inside the castle, Jessamyn asked after Jeyne and was helped by the maids to find her friend. Rhaenyra leaned close to Rhaegar andughed softly, "You flew so fast, Jeyne was afraid she''d fall apart.""Don''t me me; she''s the one who''s afraid of heights and wanted the ordeal to be over quickly," Rhaegar responded, his expression innocent.


    Rhaenyra smiled, sniffing hispel. She detected Jeyne''s minty scent and a hint of wine but nothing else suspicious. As she nced around the hall, her eyesnded on the nobledies who had recently been vying for Rhaegar''s attention.


    "Rhaegar, you are quite popr," she remarked, adjusting his cor with a knowing smile.


    Rhaegar''s good looks and noble status had made him the object of manydies'' affections. Rhaenyra, having once been the center of simr attention herself, could sympathize.


    She recalled how, as a teenager, men of all ages had sought her hand, including the Lannister brothers Jason and Tnd, who nearly fought over her.


    Chairs were brought in, and Rhaenyra took her customary seat beside Rhaegar. Her presence brought the party to a climax, with nobles toasting and boasting of their achievements.


    Rhaegar, now rxed, enjoyed the respite her presence afforded. The nobledies, intimidated by Rhaenyra, kept their distance.


    Even the timid Jonelle, who had been pouring wine, now stood quietly by Lord Grimm''s side, avoiding Rhaenyra''s gaze.


    "Rhaenyra, you stillmand the room as usual," Rhaegar remarked amusedly, finishing in a low voice. "Have I said or done anything?"


    Rhaenyra smiled sweetly, clutching her dinner knife in one hand and resting the other on Rhaegar''s thigh.


    "No," Rhaenyra assured him, holding her slender hand on his thigh with a sincere smile.


    ...


    Two dayster, the wedding was held at Runestone.


    Nobles arrived daily, and the castle''s stables were so crowded that some guests had to park their carriages nearby.


    The ceremony was not held indoors, but in the back garden of Runestone, as the Royce House, with its long history, still adhered to the worship of the old gods.


    In the back garden stood a sturdy weirwood tree, ancient and revered. Under its thick, rustling leaves, Rhea and Gerold, dressed in ceremonial robes, swore their vows of love and loyalty to each other.


    Jeyne, as witness, ced a crown of flowers on Rhea''s head to mark the end of the vows. The nobles apuded and offered their heartfelt blessings.


    With a beaming smile, Rhea held Gerold''s hand, and the couple invited everyone to return to the castle for a feast.


    Another great feast began. After being persuaded to take a few sips of red wine, Rhaegar managed to escape the persistent toasts of the nobles. He slipped away to the second floor to find a moment of peace.


    The second floor was filled with nobledies, theirughter and chatter echoing through the corridors. On the balcony, through an open floor-to-ceiling window, Rhaenyra sat elegantly in a rocking chair, dressed in a striking red gown, one leg crossed over the other.


    "Rhaenyra, why aren''t you with Jeyne and the others?" Rhaegar asked, surprised to see her alone.


    Rhaenyra gently swirled her ss of red wine and turned her face away from him without a word.


    "Why aren��t you saying anything?" Rhaegar leaned down, holding the back of the rocking chair to look at her closely.


    "Get away!" Rhaenyra chortled, yfully pushing him away.


    "Who upset you?" Rhaegar asked, concerned, as he squeezed her shoulders. Rhaenyra had been in good spirits the previous night, so something must have happened to upset her.


    Rhaenyra remained silent, staring out the window. Following her gaze, Rhaegar saw the lush greenery of the Vale and the weirwood tree in the garden where a group of children yed beneath its branches.


    Rhaegar frowned slightly, seeing nothing amiss. Thinking it over, he slowly wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "Did I make you unhappy?"


    Rhaenyra usually took on a sisterly role, caring for him daily. Rarely did she get angry with him. Perhaps the warmth of his breath was too much; Rhaenyra headbutted him lightly, her mood sour. "What does my dress look like to you?"


    Rhaegar was momentarily stunned, then seriously examined her strapless red gown. "It''s beautiful," he said innocently.


    "Doesn''t it look like the red carpet you gave Jeyne?" Rhaenyra turned her head, their faces inches apart.


    Rhaegar froze, ck lines forming on his forehead. "Have you read the messages from the ravens from the Eyrie?" he asked. The previous evening, Erryk had led a caravan through the Bloody Gate to the Eyrie, bringing many exotic treasures, including the red carpet.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes were filled with anger. "That red carpet was my gift to you on your eleventh naming day!"


    "Uh..." Rhaegar felt a chill run down his spine and took a step back.


    "Get back here!" Rhaenyra demanded, pulling him by his cor. Their foreheads collided, and they stared at each other.


    "I choose all my gifts from my private coffers; I had no knowledge of that red carpet," Rhaegar stammered, trying to find an excuse. He had secretly added the carpet to the gift list, not realizing Rhaenyra would notice.


    "You think I''ll believe that?" Rhaenyra''s eyes were fierce. The red carpet had been costly, and she had gone to great lengths to acquire it.


    "Alicent!" Rhaegar quickly invoked the queen��s name to divert me. "She saw the gift list; she must have added it by mistake."

 Chapter 168: The Valyrian Steel Necklace

    Chapter 168: The Valyrian Steel Ne


    Rhaegar didn''t want to face Rhaenyra''s wrath, so he quickly decided to throw his stepmother to take the me.


    "You think I''m a fool?" Rhaenyra snorted, her eyes growing more and more hostile.


    Rhaegar''s cold sweat ran down his back as he recalled childhood memories of being at the mercy of Rhaenyra''s temper.


    He coughed lightly to cover his nervousness and tried to sound profound. "The red carpet was just something we couldn��t use. Giving it away seemed practical."


    Rhaenyra was silent, but her grip on the soft flesh of Rhaegar''s waist tightened. It wasn''t about the red carpet''s value but the principle of giving away her gift.


    "Sister, I also prepared a gift for you," Rhaegar said, trying to defuse the situation. He held her small hand at his waist with one hand and pried her fingers off his cor with the other.


    Rhaenyra bit her lip lightly and listened to his exnation, curious about what he coulde up with.


    Rhaegar held out his hand, opening five fingers in front of her eyes. "Look!" He shook his arm, and when his fingers opened again, a delicate, square gift box appeared out of thin air.


    Rhaenyra lifted his cuff, revealing a silver-gray space bracelet. After years of living together, she knew about Rhaegar''s magical bracelet.Rhaegar smiled sheepishly and ced the gift box in her palm, saying softly, "Open it and see; you��ll definitely like it."


    "Hmph, let''s see what trick you''re ying now," Rhaenyra said, her mood lightening slightly as she pressed her lips together in a hint of a smile.


    She opened the gift box, which was padded with ck soft cloth, but found it empty. She pinched the soft cloth, thinking the gift might be hidden in apartment. However, after examining the box thoroughly, she found nothing.


    There was a short silence. Rhaenyra nced at Rhaegar, who was all smiles, and gently closed the box without saying a word.


    "Do you like it?" Rhaegar asked.


    Rhaenyra closed her eyes, crossed her arms, and leaned back in her chair. She didn''t want to talk to him. Just take it as received, she thought.


    Seeing her reaction, Rhaegar restrained his smile, reached out, and waved his hand in front of her eyes. He whispered softly, "Look again; you''ll definitely like it."


    Rhaenyra''s knuckles turned white as she suppressed her anger. Perhaps she had been away from Rhaegar for so long that he had forgotten what the wrath of a sleeping dragon was like. Her hands itched for action.


    The sound of bells jingled softly in the air, and Rhaenyra''s breathing quickened as she heard the crisp ringing.


    "No more teasing. Open your eyes," Rhaegar urged gently.


    Rhaenyra turned her head away in anger, refusing to open her eyes. She had already decided to punish Rhaegar tonight and a gift would not change her mind.


    Seeing her stubbornness, Rhaegar smiled and took action. Rhaenyra kept her eyes closed, still angry, when she suddenly felt something cold against her cheek.


    Unconsciously, she opened her eyes and tilted her head back to see an exquisite silver and gray ne. The ne, made of forged Valyrian steel, consisted of tiny links forming a slender chain.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes were immediately drawn to it. "A Valyrian steel ne?" she asked in amazement, turning to Rhaegar.


    "That''s right," Rhaegar replied, smiling as he gently shook the ne between his fingers. He had specifically instructed the cksmith to keep some of the steel to create a piece of jewelry for Rhaenyra after forging two weapons.


    It was as if the ne had been forged just for her.


    Rhaenyra was mesmerized. She rxed her arms and touched the Valyrian steel ne in front of her. She hadn''t realized that Rhaegar had prepared such a precious gift for her.


    Suddenly she remembered something. "You said you wanted to forge two weapons. Will there be enough Valyrian steel left after you make this ne?"


    Rhaegar hung the ne on her fingertips and smiled reassuringly. "Don''t worry, it''s just a piece of jewelry."


    "A piece of Valyrian steel for a ne? How extravagant," Rhaenyra said, giving him a reproachful look. But the corners of her lips betrayed her, curling into a smile as she caressed the ne like a treasure.


    The ne had its own pendant, designed by Rhaegar himself, with three tiny dragon heads to honor the first dragons of House Targaryen: Meraxes, Balerion, and Vhagar.


    Meraxes had sharp horns and half-squinted pupils, exuding an elegant and luxurious demeanor. Balerion''s fierce expression and rounded eyes emanated a solemn authority. Vhagar, with a dense crown of horns and closed eyes, appeared as if in a deep sleep, drawn from the dragon''s prime.


    The three dragon heads, one low and two high, hung from the ne, carved with such precision that they seemed to host the soul of a dragon.


    "It''s beautiful!" Rhaenyra eximed, marveling at the intricate details of the ne. The craftsmanship of the Qohor cksmiths was truly top-notch.


    "I''m d you like it," Rhaegar said, resting his hands on the back of her chair and admiring her profile. He remembered how Daemon had given Rhaenyra a Valyrian steel ne, and despite her hatred for Daemon''s actions, she had kept the ne in the bottom of her jewelry box.


    With that in mind, Rhaegar leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Now you have a new family heirloom."


    Rhaenyra looked at him in amazement, then smiled sweetly. "Rhaegar, put it on for me!"


    "Okay," Rhaegar agreed, removing her old ne and skillfully cing the new one around her delicate white neck. He casually tossed the old ne out the window.


    Rhaenyra looked down at the ne, its three dragon heads like a talisman. The more she looked at it, the more she loved it.


    Rhaenyra sped Rhaegar''s neck and nted a kiss on his cheek.


    As he buried his head in her hair, inhaling the fresh scent ofvender, he said, "Rhaenyra, Father has prepared a list of partners for me."


    "What are your ns?" Rhaenyra asked quietly, tilting her head as she yed with the ne.


    Rhaegar said, "You know what I mean."


    Rhaenyraughed out loud and smiled, her eyes glowing as she encouraged, ��Just tell father who you want. He has always spoiled you.��


    ��Yes, but I am greedy,�� Rhaegar replied, his eyes yful and pretentious.


    He knew that Rhaenyra cared for him as much as he cared for her. Thinking about it, he propped his hand on the rocking chair and caressed the solid wood.


    Outside the window, the fish-beam tree stood tall, its thick trunk teeming with anticipation. Two little green creatures moved in tandem, one ascending with eager determination while the other descended with deliberate intent.


    The climber reached a branch and discovered a tender, sulent leaf, its vibrant allure impossible to resist. It eagerly mounted the leaf, savoring each bite with the hunger of one who had waited far too long.


    Meanwhile, the lower creature inched with relentless effort toward a tantalizing ball of soft, sticky sap. It approached its prize with bated breath.


    St...


    Just as it was about to indulge in the sweet resin, a pair of small hands intervened, thwarting its feast and leaving it quivering with unfulfilled desire.


    ��Rhaegar, no!�� Rhaenyra eximed.

 Chapter 169: Confession

    Chapter 169: Confession


    Rhaenyra whimpered in surprise, her heart thumping and her body tingling.


    Rhaegar heard the sound and lifted his head to look out the window.


    He saw a little girl squatting under a fish-beam tree, her hands covering a small green insect, her face full of innocence.


    "Let it go, bugs are dirty," a little boy came running, disgustedly reminding her.


    "Oh, okay," the little girl replied. With wide eyes, she picked up the small green worm and threw it onto a branch above her head.


    The bugnded right next to itspanion and crawled toward another young leaf, taking small bites.


    Judging by the speed at which the two little green worms were eating, the young leaves of the fish-beam tree must have been extremely tasty.


    "Rhaegar, the feast isn''t over yet," Rhaenyra said, her cheeks slightly flushed, her heart trembling.


    "No one is looking at us," Rhaegar replied, ncing at the beaded curtain at the entrance of the balcony before lowering his head.As Rhaegar lifted his head and Rhaenyra lowered hers, their eyes met. Rhaegar''s cold violet eyes flickered, his lips crimson, and the knot in his throat moved as he swallowed.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes were moist, her lips slightly parted.


    The wind blew through the beaded curtains, causing them to sway and the strings of beads to move closer together, constantly ovepping.


    Outside the window, the little green bugs on the fish-beam tree were still eating. Two simr white snakes climbed up the branches. The white snakes'' bodies were entwined, their heads touching each other''s, spitting out their tongues and not giving way.


    It was a chilling scene, as if they were vowing to swallow each other alive.


    ...


    On the second floor, in the banquet hall, Jeyne was dressed in elegant attire, holding a ss of wine as she exchanged pleasantries with noblewomen anddies who approached her.


    "Jeyne,e here for a moment," called Jessamyn, who was wearing a blue dress and clutching a slip of paper in her hand.


    Jeyne nced at it and recognized the letter delivered by the raven.


    "Excuse me, I need to attend to some business," Jeyne said to the chatty noblewoman beside her. She set down her ss and left her seat.


    Jessamyn smiled apologetically at the noblewomen anddies who watched them leave. The two of them walked hand in hand to the corner of the stairs.


    Jessamyn handed over the slip of paper and said in a low voice, "There''s been an incident at Longbow Hall."


    Jeyne opened the note, reading the brief message.


    The Longbow Hall has repelled the Mountain ns. Yorbert was ambushed on his way back and was seriously injured.


    The Mountain ns are well organized and are suspected of raiding the Vale.


    "Yorbert is wounded!" Jeyne''s face turned pale, her small hand clenching the note tightly.


    Yorbert was her regent, the one who had taught her how to govern the Vale. His injury would be a great blow to the Eyrie.


    essamyn asked worriedly, "What should we do now?"


    She believed they should take advantage of the banquet to gather more bannermen and besiege the Mountain ns.


    "The Mountain ns hide in the mountains and forests; even if we mobilize our men, we can''t pinpoint their movements," Jeyne sighed, understanding her friend''s concern. "Tell all families to secure their castles and prepare to face the Mountain ns."


    "If we let the Mountain ns ransack the Vale of Arryn, they''ll have plenty of food and supplies for years," Jessamyn worried.


    The Vale was surrounded by the Mountains of the Moon, but the ins in the center were fertile, with highly productive ck soil. If the Mountain ns plundered the Vale, this year''s production would be severely impacted.


    "Jessamyn, you don''t understand my n," Jeyne said with a slight headache. "Go to Rhea and tell her I will return to Eyrie tomorrow. Prepare the carriage for me."


    Jessamyn opened her mouth to argue but knew she couldn''t change her friend''s mind. She nodded helplessly.


    As she walked away, Jeyne called after her, "Have you seen Rhaenyra? I need to discuss something with her."


    She nned to talk to Rhaenyra about solving the Mountain ns problem. With two dragons in the Vale, they could easily repel the barbaric Mountain ns.


    Jessamyn recalled, "Try the second-floor balcony, but she seems to be in a bad mood."


    Last night, ravens from Eyrie brought news that the Kingsguard and royal gifts had arrived. They also reported that the Mountain ns were roaming the Mountains of the Moon.


    Jessamyn had shown Rhaenyra the letter and the apanying list, as Jeyne had instructed, but Rhaenyra''s mood had changed after just one nce. Jessamyn assumed she was worried about the Vale''s safety and paid it no further mind.


    "I understand. Go ahead," Jeyne said, waving her hand tiredly.


    Jessamyn nodded and turned to walk down the stairs. She didn''t notice Jeyne''s expression change to one of cold calction as she watched her friend''s retreating back.


    Jeyne sighed, restored herposed demeanor, and headed toward the second floor. She greeted the nobledies she passed with a smile, responding to each one before continuing to the balcony.


    Through the swaying beaded curtains, Jeyne saw two figures, one in red and one in ck, on the balcony.


    Gently lifting the beaded curtain, Jeyne stepped inside and called, "Rhaenyra, I''m here to see you."


    "!!!"


    Her voice startled Rhaenyra, who quickly looked over, a bit flustered.


    Rhaenyra''s face was flushed and she looked panicked.


    "Jeyne, what brings you here?" Rhaegar, standing behind the rocking chair, appeared unfazed.


    Jeyne froze, blinking in confusion, wondering, "Did I interrupt your conversation?"


    "No! You''re just in time," Rhaenyra replied with a vague smile, covering her chest with one hand. All is calm again, she thought darkly, ring at Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar''s face was full of innocence and pleasure.


    "Jeyne, what did you want to see me about?" Rhaenyra redirected the conversation to Jeyne.


    Jeyne, snapping out of her confusion, stammered, "I received some new information and wanted to discuss it with you."


    "Come sit down and we''ll talk," Rhaenyra invited, giving Rhaegar a look signaling him to leave.


    Rhaegar smirked, and as if no one else was there, he removed his top jacket and draped it over Rhaenyra. "I''ll leave now; you rest a little longer."


    With that, he brushed shoulders with Jeyne, lifted the beaded curtain, and departed. The words that should be said have been said, and the words that want to be heard have been heard. Just go.


    "Come on, ignore him," Rhaenyra said, adjusting her ck blouse.


    Jeyne smiled helplessly and walked over to sit down beside her.


    ...


    Out on the balcony, Rhaegar emerged in front of a group of nobledies and women. Having taken off his jacket, he was left in a ck inner shirt, exposing his solid muscles.


    Thedies blushed and hesitated to approach him. The more mature women remainedposed outwardly but secretly eyed him up and down.


    Rhaegar, in an agitated mood, hurried down the stairs, oblivious to their reactions.


    Downstairs, the scene was chaotic. Two ugly middle-aged men were ring at each other with angry eyes and exchanging harsh words, on the verge of a physical altercation.


    "Such a foolish Coldwater, you are poor, but you cannot stand to see others rich!"


    "Bitch-born Borrell, you are a bunch of scum who deserve to be gutted and hung on the gallows."

 Chapter 170: Forced to Compete

    Chapter 170: Forced to Compete


    The scene was chaotic, filled with noble lords watching the confrontation, their attention focused on the two figures in the center.


    Rhea was absent, and Gerold watched the unfolding events with a solemn expression on his face.


    Today was his wedding day, yet the destructive behavior of these two individuals showed a tant disregard for etiquette.


    "What''s going on?" Rhaegar approached leisurely.


    "''Prince," Gerold replied with a forced smile, "Pierce Coldwater of Coldwater Burn and Godric Borrell of Sweetsister are quarreling."


    The Three Sisters are a group of three inds��Sweetsister, Longsister, and Littlesister��found in the Bite, located south of White Harbor and north of the Mountains of the Moon.


    The Borrell House hailed from Sweetsister Ind, one of the Three Sisters Inds, while the Coldwater House, was located at the estuary west of the Five Fingers Penins, was a secondary noble house in the Vale, loyal to Runestone.


    Gerold exined the cause of the dispute between the two parties.


    The Three Sisters is the most notorious smuggling den in all of Westeros, and countless crimes have beenmitted there.Pierce Coldwater''s nephew had smuggled goods into the Three Sisters, intending to sell them as stolen items, only to be ckmailed by local gangs.


    These gangs, under Godric Borrell''s control, were responsible for the loss of Pierce''s nephew and his merchandise.


    Godric, fearing retaliation, had avoided reurning to the Three Sisters to avoid punishment.


    So Pierce used today''s wedding as an opportunity to seek revenge against Godric.


    Rhaegar listened intently to the story, feeling resigned to the vicious cycle of vendettas between the factions.


    After a moment of reflection, he inquired, "Coldwater is a bannerman of Runestone. Shouldn''t you intervene?"


    Gerold shook his head in frustration. "Ever since Rhea became the Lord of Runestone, these bannermen have been at odds with each other. Otherwise, they wouldn''t dare disrupt a wedding."


    Rhaegar was speechless as he realized the challenges of controlling the nobles.


    "In that case, allow me to suggest..." Rhaegar leaned in and whispered an idea to Gerold.


    Recognizing the gravity of the situation, Gerold nodded in gratitude as Rhaegar approached the two quarreling men.


    It was imperative to maintain order, especially on the asion of his previous aunt''s wedding, where Rhaegar represented the royal family.


    With his sword drawn, Gerold shed at the tabletop and shouted, "Enough! You''re both itching for a fight, aren''t you?"


    Instantly, the room fell silent. Pierce and Godric, the instigators of the confrontation, red at each other, faces flushed with anger.


    Pierce, a bannerman of Runestone, held his tongue, unable to retort.


    Godric, his head crowned with white hair, stood tall and imposing. With a scrutinizing gaze, he pointed usingly at Gerold, eximing, "Gerold, look at your family''s bannerman, starting a brawl at your wedding!"


    Having spent years in the criminal underworld, Godric possessed a cunning intellect that was far different from his outward appearance. With just a few words, he shifted the me to Pierce.


    "Godric!" Gerold''s voice boomed, his eyes darting between the two adversaries. "I don''t care what grievances you and Pierce have. Don''t cause trouble in my castle."


    "Nonsense! As a guest, I have every right to speak my mind," Godric retorted arrogantly, his chin held high.


    "What do you have to say, Pierce?" Gerold turned to the burly man.


    "Hmph! He killed my nephew and I''m just stating the facts," Pierce roared, pounding on the table in frustration.


    It was evident that neither side held much regard for Runestone.


    Amidst the tension, Rhaegar stepped forward, a yful smirk on his lips. "I hear some of you are eager for a fight to liven things up?"


    Rhaegar''s presence shifted the atmosphere once again. The onlookers, who had enjoyed the spectacle, now grew tense, siding with Pierce.


    "Prince, Pierce of House Coldwater insulted me, disregarding the rights of a guest!" Godric interjected, attempting to deflect me.


    "I have ears and eyes, I don''t need your exnations," Rhaegar retorted, stepping closer to Godric, his gaze cold and unwavering.


    Caught off guard, Godric stumbled backward, his pride momentarily shattered by the prince''s imposing presence.


    The Three Sisters, once a haven for pirates and bandits, had surrendered to the might of Visenya Targaryen and her dragon, Vhagar. The fear of dragons and royalty had since been ingrained in the natives'' hearts.


    "Keep quiet, or I''ll silence you myself," Rhaegar''s voice cut through the tension, his contempt evident.


    Turning to Gerold, Rhaegar raised an eyebrow. "Ser Gerold, how do you intend to handle these troublemakers?"


    Before Godric could protest and tell them he had the right of a guest, he felt a firm kick to his back. Turning, he met the stern gaze of Lord Sundend, the lord of the Three Sisters Inds and his liege lord.


    With his Lord''s warning clear, Godric fell silent.


    Supported by the heir, Gerold seized the opportunity. "Prince, since the festivities seemcking, why don''t we organize a small tournament to test our skills?"


    As Gerold proposed the idea, his eyes fell on the two troublemakers. If they wanted to cause a scene, let them do so in a controlled environment.


    "Agreed! I think that''s a splendid idea!" Rhea''s voice emerged from the crowd, having rushed back upon hearing reports of themotion.


    Stepping forward with a smile, she addressed the gathering, "If you seek battle, then do so honorably, like true men!"


    The people of the Vale, ustomed to tradition and rough in character, eagerly voiced their agreement.


    "Right! Let''s settle scores honorably!"


    "I''m itching for a fight! Who will face me?"


    The hall erupted with chatter and anticipation.


    After muchmotion, Rhea instructed someone to clear a space in the back garden and led the guests to move there.


    It wasn''t a far walk from the banquet hall, and soon they were gathered in a circle on the grass.


    Pierce and Godric, with grim expressions, were pushed onto the grass by their respective supporters.


    "Let the duelmence, my lords!" Rhea dered, her demeanor stern.


    Rhaegar chimed in, "Mind your blows. It''s a wedding day; let''s not draw too much blood."


    "Fight! Fight! Fight!" The noble spectators egged them on, some even cing bets on the oue.


    With no other choice, Pierce and Godric drew their weapons and faced each other fiercely.


    The pressure to fight was immense; to refuse would mean enduringsting shame.


    "Die!" Pierce roared, swinging his longsword downward.


    ng...


    Godric parried the blow with his scimitar, swiftly kicked Pierce''s knee, then deftly adjusted his grip and shed across Pierce''s chest.


    A sickening sound filled the air.


    Pierce''s shirt tore open, revealing a deep, bloody gash across his chest, his skincerated.

 Chapter 171: Unmatched in the Vale

    Chapter 171: Unmatched in the Vale


    "Oh haha, Pierce can''t breastfeed anymore!"


    The watching crowd erupted inughter.


    Pierce grimaced in pain but felt determined to charge again.


    The kingdom had been at peace for many years, and most nobles and knights had never experienced war. As a minor noble with limited resources, Pierce spent his days managing his territory. Naturally, hisbat skills were no match for those of Godric, who was born in a den of crime.


    Bang...


    Godric forced Pierce''s sword away and kicked him in the stomach.


    Pierce fell backward, rolling and scrambling to get up.


    "Hey, hey, you''re a softy!"


    Godricughed wildly and approached with his sword."Son of a bitch!"


    Pierce suddenly cursed, grabbing a handful of dirt and flinging it.


    Caught off guard, Godric didn''t dodge in time and narrowed his eyes.


    Taking this opportunity, Pierce stormed forward and stabbed his sword into Godric''s thigh.


    "Ah!!!"


    Godric let out a wail and fell to the ground, rolling in pain.


    Pierce quickly retreated, looked around the room, and yelled, "I won, he can''t get up!"


    Unfortunately, no one cheered for him.


    The way he won was disgraceful and earned him the nickname "Pierce the Pussy."


    Realizing he had not won honorably, Pierce sheathed his sword and slipped away from the crowd.


    Soon after, attendants dragged the wailing Godric away to the castle to call the maester for help.


    Rhea stepped before the crowd and shouted, "The first fight is over. Does anyone else want to fight?"


    Now that the tournament had begun, it couldn''t just stop.


    The guests responded in unison.


    "I''ll do it! Who will fight with me?"


    As soon as the words fell, someone stepped forward, moring for an opponent.


    It was a rare asion to participate in a martial arts tournament, and such a small tournament was a great opportunity.


    A tall man emerged from the crowd to act as his opponent.


    Within a few moments, the tall man wielded his axe.


    The tall man swung his axe and knocked away his opponent''s long sword, winning the match.


    Most of the crowd cheered, looking forward to the next match.


    Rhea called for a squire to pour wine for the winner.


    The tall man gulped down the wine and mored for a rematch.


    Another challenger stepped forward, and the two engaged inbat.


    This time, however, the battle did not go as smoothly. The tall man''s axe struck violently, shattering his opponent''s spear and nearly cleaving him in half.


    At this point, the brutal nature of the martial arts tournament became evident.


    Gerold frowned and whispered, "Prince, martial arts always carry risks. We should stop now."


    Today was a wedding, and while the initial trouble had been resolved, any deaths from the martial arts contest would be problematic.


    "Don''t worry, I''ll handle it," Rhaegar reassured him, patting his shoulder and walking to the center of the grassy field with a warm smile.


    "Prince, you want topete too?" The tall man looked at the young prince with some hesitation.


    Rhaegar drew the Dragon w sword from his waist and dered loudly, "If you defeat me, this sword is yours!"


    Having just parted with Rhaenyra, his spirits were high and his energy boundless. It was the perfect moment to exercise his muscles.


    At the sight of the Valyrian steel sword, everyone present stared in awe. There were only a few such precious weapons in the entire Vale.


    The tall man breathed heavily, hardly believing his ears. "If I win, can I really have this sword?"


    "A Targaryen is bound by his word!" Rhaegar drew his sword and took a stance.


    He had learned his swordsmanship from Syrio and hadplete confidence in himself.


    "Good! Then I''ll ept your challenge!" The tall manughed and swung his axe, charging forward.


    A Valyrian steel sword was a treasure that could be an heirloom for generations. As long as he controlled his strength and didn''t hurt the prince, he could win this divine weapon.


    "Courage, I like it!" Rhaegar felt no fear as the bear-like man rushed towards him; instead, he felt exhrated.


    As the tall man closed in, he swung his axe down with force. Heavy weapons like axes didn��t require fancy moves��just strength and precision.


    ng!


    The sound of metal shing rang out as Rhaegar stepped forward and moved to the side, his Dragon w sword shing the back of the descending axe. In an instant, the axe flew out of the tall man''s hand.


    Before the tall man could react, Rhaegar extended his arm, pressing the tip of his sword against his opponent''s neck.


    "You lose!"


    The tall man''s body stiffened, his eyes widened, and he subconsciously swallowed hard.


    He hadn''t even seen what happened before the tip of the sword was at his neck.


    "You win, Prince." Acknowledging both his inferior status and strength, the tall man honestly admitted defeat and retreated into the crowd, his face flushed with embarrassment.


    Rhaegarughed, pointing his sword at the crowd of onlookers, and said arrogantly, "Is there anyone else who wants to challenge me? If you win, you can take this sword from my hand!"


    He didn''t know what hade over him. He just wanted to vent the excitement in his heart.


    The martial artspetitions of his youth had left a deep impression on him, and he wanted to relive that excitement in this small arena.


    "I''ll do it!"


    A burly young man stepped forward, eyes glowing. "Lester Waynwood. I wish topete with you."


    He was the heir of Ironoaks and had been trained as a knight since childhood.


    "Strike, Lester!" Rhaegar stepped forward, unable to stop smiling.


    Lester, also a swordsman, gripped his two-handed greatsword and attacked with great force. His assault was fierce, but Rhaegar maneuvered flexibly, waiting for the right moment to counterattack.


    A series of collisions echoed through the arena. The Dragon w sword followed the de of the greatsword, and as Rhaegar''s footsteps closed the distance, his sword grazed his opponent''s neck.


    Lester continued his swinging motion, a thin trickle of blood oozing from a scar on his neck.


    "Your sword is quick, Prince," Lester said, frozen for a moment and disoriented as he admitted defeat.


    Rhaegar had only scratched his skin, but they both knew that if he could cut the skin, he could cut his artery.


    "Anyone else? Fight again!" Rhaegar continued to invite challengers.


    Most retreated, realizing the prince''s superior swordsmanship, but some still coveted the Valyrian steel sword.


    Within half an hour, Rhaegar had defeated seven opponents in a row, each time hitting the mark. The defeated fighters couldn''t even touch him, and the victory was decided in moments. His swordsmanship was characterized by speed and precision.


    Syrio had once said that Rhaegar''s sword was so fast that one wouldn''t feel the pain until the blood flowed.


    This fast sword allowed him to duel evenly with him. Syrio''s sword art emphasized speed and flexibility, appearing light and slow but full of deadly opportunities. Rhaegar had to be faster and more agile topete.


    "My lords, the tournament is not over yet. Does anyone still want to challenge me?" Rhaegar was in high spirits, opening his arms wide and looking around the crowd.


    The onlookers exchanged nces in disbelief and remained silent.


    The prince''s swordsmanship was evident to all��not only could he defeat his opponents, but he could also ensure they weren''t seriously injured. With such skill, entering the arena would only bring shame.


    "Are we still going to let the prince fight?" Gerold stood beside Rhea and asked in a low voice. Rhaegar had sapped everyone''s enthusiasm, giving them a good reason to end the fight.


    Rhea did not answer him. Her brown eyes were fixed on Rhaegar in the field, her heart swirling with memories. Watching Rhaegar''s skillful swordy, she thought of an old friend: Daemon Targaryen. Back then, Daemon had wielded the Dark Sister and disyed his prowess in a tournament at Runestone, defeating several Knights of the Vale.


    It was because of Daemon''s skill and elegance that she had married the young Daemon under the arrangement of Queen Alysanne. The untamed nature of uncle and nephew was exactly the same.

 Chapter 172: Jenny’s Forbidden Glance

    Chapter 172: Jenny��s Forbidden nce


    Second floor, balcony.


    Rhaenyra leaned against the railing, watching the fight in the back garden.


    "Rhaegar is still so yful," she remarked.


    "Very brave and skilled," Jeynemented objectively beside her.


    Rhaenyra moved closer, caught a glimmer in Jeyne''s eye, andughed, "Are you going to be hanging out with Jessamyn all the time?"


    "She and I are friends, soothing each other''s souls," Jeyne replied lightly.


    Then she shifted the conversation, asking, "Do you intend to follow the Targaryen tradition?"


    Rhaenyra understood the implication and smiled, "Rhaegar will go for it."


    "Bless you," Jeyne said, lowering her eyes and picking up a ss of red wine.Rhaenyra sensed insincerity in her words. She watched Jeyne''s demeanor closely, trying to discern her true feelings.


    Jeyne turned her head, looking at the silver-haired Rhaegar with envy in her eyes.


    "Jeyne," Rhaenyra called out.


    Jeyne looked over.


    "Have you ever farmed?"


    "That''s a farmer''s job."


    Rhaenyra continued, "Yes, I''ve never farmed either, but I''ve seen the farmers in the crownds do it."


    Jeyne looked puzzled, her eyes quizzical.


    Rhaenyra exined, "The farmer nts seeds in the spring, tends them diligently, waters and loosens the soil, and then harvests the grain in the fall."


    Under Jeyne''s increasingly bewildered gaze, Rhaenyra became serious.


    "I''ve been with Rhaegar from the moment he was born. I''ve been there at every moment of his life."


    "Now that he''s grown up, it''s time for me to reap the rewards."


    Lifting her ss from the table, Rhaenyra clinked it against Jeyne''s. A crisp buzz echoed as Rhaenyra drank it all in one go, picked up Rhaegar''s clothes, and strutted away.


    Suddenly, she realized that her only remaining best friend was not pure of heart.


    It made her wary.


    A gust of wind ruffled her hair, and Jeyne awoke from her thoughts. The bewildered expression vanished, reced by a determined look.


    With Rhaenyra now out of sight behind the beaded curtains, Jeyne nced up at the blue sky and the white clouds. The air carried a hint of summer warmth.


    "Rhaenyra, now it''s summer," she murmured to herself.


    ...


    In the back garden, at the martial arts arena, the atmosphere froze as no one was left to fight Rhaegar.


    Gerold asked Rhea about it, but she was lost in her memories and remained silent for a long time. After much thought, Gerold sighed and decided to handle the situation himself.


    "Prince, your swordsmanship is unrivaled. I would like to ask you for a lesson," Gerold said, drawing his sword and walking towards Rhaegar in the center of the grass.


    Rhaegar smiled, "Gerold, you are the groom today. Do you want to join in as well?"


    "It''s rare to see sword skills like yours. I want to give it a try," Gerold replied, holding his sword with a resolute gaze.


    He wanted to test the prince''s strength, much like he had wanted to test Daemon''s.


    "Very well,e on then," Rhaegar agreed, pleased with his persistence.


    Gerold charged forward, swinging his sword with the wildness characteristic of a knight of the Vale. The Dragon w rose, and their des shed, sending sparks flying. Rhaegar twisted, his sword sliding against Gerold''s.


    Having watched several bouts, Gerold was familiar with the prince''s fast sword. He quickly retracted his sword and shed again. His movements were swift, his body full of force, and his two-handed sword cut through the air with a soft sound.


    Rhaegar took two steps back, feigning a w, and raised his sword to block the heavy chop. Seeing the prince''s chest exposed, Gerold pressed down on his long sword and lifted his leg to kick. But as soon as he lifted his right leg, he saw Rhaegar''s triumphant smirk.


    "Foiled," Gerold thought, realizing his mistake.


    Rhaegar changed his stance, turning to the side. His opponent''s long sword and right leg were now exposed. Without hesitation, the Dragon w shed, and the sword shed down.


    The Dragon w struck Gerold''s longsword, and the two swords met with a resounding ng. The Valyrian steel proved superior, and Gerold''s two-handed sword broke with a snap. The broken sword flew out and fell onto the grass.


    The hearts of the onlookers seemed to tremble with the broken sword. Gerold stood there, holding the broken sword, cold sweat dripping from his forehead. He realized that on the battlefield, it would have been his leg that was cut off.


    Looking at Rhaegar, who smiled apologetically, Gerold forced a smile, though it was more a grimace.


    "The loss was clear and decisive," he thought.


    "Lord Gerold, I am sorry for the sword," Rhaegar said, sheathing his Dragon w and extending a hand.


    "Your swordsmanship is truly outstanding!" Gerold replied, discarding his broken sword and gripping the prince''s hand firmly.


    Looking around at the stunned guests, Gerold suddenlyughed loudly, raising both hands and shouting, "My lords, do you ept such an heir?"


    Silence. The nobles of the Vale looked at each other with varied expressions. The scene was cold for a moment, and Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as he observed.


    "Damn, what a fast sword technique! Whoever dares to disobey, I will not spare him first!" someone in the crowd shouted, followed by loudughter.


    The next moment, everyone began tough, beat their chests, struck the hilts of their swords on their waists, and chanted in a chaotic manner, "Long live the Targaryens! Long live the Heir!"


    Rhaegar held the Dragon w in one hand and raised the other above his head. His stoic face melted into a radiant smile as he joined in theughter.


    The people of the Vale followed the tradition of honoring the strong, much like the people of the North in the Wintends. Rhaegar''s swordsmanship had convinced them, and they willingly offered their praise and allegiance.


    With Gerold''s mediation, the tournament came to an end. The guests returned to the castle, surrounding Rhaegar, singing, and intent on celebrating the great contest with alcohol.


    ...


    Night.


    Rhaenyray in Rhaegar''s arms, a note sped in her hand.


    "Jeyne''s leaving tomorrow. Are weing with her?" she asked.


    Rhaegar stroked her hair gently. "A letter from Erryk. The Mountain ns'' movements in the Mountains of the Moon are unknown."


    Enjoying the soft touch, Rhaegar closed his eyes and sighed. "The battle at Longbow Hall is also stagnant. With Yorbert seriously injured, the Mountain ns might make a big move."


    "Do you think they''llunch a major attack?" Rhaenyra asked softly.


    "I don''t know," Rhaegar replied. "First, we''ll escort Jeyne back to the Eyrie. If the Mountain ns dare to show up in force, the Cannibal will burn them all."


    He tossed the note aside, his expression indifferent. "The Mountain ns are just savages. They''re troublesome when they wander, but weak when they gather."


    Rhaenyra nodded. "That''s fine. Erryk''s letter said he''s already brought troops to the Bloody Gate to meet us."


    With the allies in Gulltown secured, their trip to the Vale was halfwayplete. King''s Landing and the Stepstones Inds still awaited their return.


    "Go to sleep. No touching!" Rhaenyra pped his hand yfully.


    Rhaegar arched his back in dissatisfaction, burying his face deeper into the softness.


    Rhaenyraughed in exasperation, wrapping her arms around his neck and rubbing it vigorously.


    This pig just couldn''t get enough of it.

 Chapter 173: Black Wedding I

    Chapter 173: ck Wedding I


    The following day.


    In the morning, two four-wheeled carriages were parked in the front yard of Runestone. Jeyne sat in one of them, waving goodbye to Rhea, who was there to see her off.


    "Forgive me for not being able to stay until the wedding banquet is over, Rhea," Jeyne said.


    "The wedding banquet isn''t as important as the Eyrie," Rhea replied solemnly.


    "I''m leaving now. The guests are still waiting for you," Jeyne said, drawing the curtains closed.


    Rhea gathered fifty guards and instructed them to escort Jeyne.


    Rhaenyra, seated in the other carriage, watched Rhaegar on his white horse outside. The horse stomped its front hooves impatiently.


    "We should ride a dragon. This is ridiculous!" Rhaegar grumbled, clutching the horse''s belly.


    "You should tell Jeyne that. She refuses to ride a dragon," Rhaenyra replied with a grin. "Don''t worry. The Eyrie is only a few days away. We''ll be there soon.""Cannibal could make the trip from Runestone to the Eyrie in an hour," Rhaegar said, clearly frustrated. He hated wasting time on long journeys.


    "Amodate Jeyne. She''s a Lady. She can''t fall off the back of a dragon," Rhaenyra said, unfazed. She remembered how her father had forbidden her from riding dragons when she was younger. Every trip with him had been in a carriage.


    Rhaegar sighed, taking the reins and urging the white horse forward. He wished he could let Jeyne leave with just the guards so he wouldn��t have to escort her himself.


    Gerold approached to bid them farewell. "Prince, the roads through the Mountains of the Moon are treacherous. Be cautious."


    "Don''t worry," Rhaegar nodded. "You just got married yesterday. Spend more time with Lady Rhea."


    "I will," Gerold said, looking slightly shy as he thought about his new wife. He had had a wonderful night.


    After a brief farewell, the two carriages left Runestone, apanied by the guards. Rhea, Gerold, and a group of nobles from the Vale watched them off. Soon, the carriages disappeared from sight.


    "Let''s go back," Gerold suggested.


    Rhea remarked casually, "Don''t drink too much. You were so drunkst night. Be careful you don��t die from drinking."


    "Drinking and dying is a real man''s destiny," Gerold retorted with a grin, finding an excuse for his love of drinking.


    Rhea snorted and turned away, heading back. The master and guests had gone to see them off, leaving the castle quiet with only the servants remaining.


    In the castle cer, the wooden door was closed, but rustling sounds came from within. A servant passing by to fetch wine stopped, staring at the door in disbelief. Thinking a mouse had gotten into the cer, he approached the door, puzzled.


    ...


    Noon.


    The procession back to the Eyrie moved slowly.


    The Vale road was dangerous, with only a single, treacherous mountain path avable. To return to the Eyrie from Runestone, the group had two possible routes.


    One route followed the seashore, passing Iron Oaks and the Old Anchor before entering the interior of the Vale of Arryn. However, this path, close to Longbow Hall, had been abandoned.


    The second route led to Gulltown, where they could take a boat down the Bay of Crabs to the Inn at the crossroads. From there, they would enter the Vale of Arryn through the Bloody Gate via the high road. This remote and tter path was the one they chose.


    "Rhaegar, do you want to take a rest?" Rhaenyra asked, feeling ufortable after half a day of travel.


    Rhaegar looked up. The sun was high, and the temperature was rising.


    "Wait until we pass through the canyon ahead. We''ll rest then," he replied.


    Scouts familiar with the route were aware of any obstacles. Being close to the Mountains of the Moon, they knew Mountain ns and Shadowcats roamed the area. It was safer to find a stable ce to rest.


    Twenty miles away, a group of Mountain ns, dressed in animal skins and carrying stone axes and bronze spears, moved through the mountains.


    "The Vale bitch is just ahead. Hurry up!" urged an ugly, burly man leading the group.


    He walked at the forefront, followed by his men. The mountains and forests were teeming with more of their kind, rolling in and out of view.


    ...


    At the Old Anchor, hundreds of cavalrymen galloped along, kicking up dust in all directions.


    They were the Cavalry of the Vale, assembled by Yorbert Royce. A few days earlier, the mountain ns besieging Longbow Hall had been defeated.


    On their way back, they were ambushed by the remaining tribe members, suffering heavy losses due to an inside jobpromising their route.


    ording to scouts, the Mountain ns had gathered again and were marching towards Runestone, where a grand wedding was happening. Not only half the nobles from the Vale but also Lady Jeyne Arryn of the Eyrie were attending the wedding.


    The severely wounded Yorbert ordered a return to Runestone at full speed.


    ...


    Runestone.


    Whoosh...


    An arrow flew past and struck the bull''s-eye.


    In the training yard, Rhea drew her bow and shot another arrow. Around her, other nobles were also drawing their bows,peting in archery.


    "Haha, I''m thirsty. No more archery for me," a certain lord eximed after missing the bull''s-eye. He tossed aside his bow and called his friends to return to the castle.


    Seeing this, Rhea put down her longbow and said, "We''ve been at this for half a day. It''s time to prepare lunch!"


    The wedding banquet hadsted for three days, and today was only the second. Besides feasting and drinking, archery and hunting were part of the festivities.


    At Rhea''s suggestion, the noblesplied and returned to the castle together.


    Inside the hall, waiters prepared and brought dishes to the table. The men sat in the hall on the first floor, while the women gathered in the side hall on the second floor.


    Rhea sat at the head of the table on the first floor, discussing hunting ns with Gerold.


    Simple but hearty dishes were served, and the waiters opened wine barrels, pouring wine into jugs for the nobles in turn.


    "Haha, I know I''ll be fightingter, so I need to drink up now," a big manughed, downing his cup of wine in one gulp.


    A short male attendant approached Rhea, bowed his head, and poured her wine.


    "Thank you," Rhea said, waving him away.


    Patting the table, she stood up and raised her ss, drawing everyone''s attention. The hall quieted, and all eyes were on her.


    Rhea took a deep breath and spoke cheerfully, "Thank you all foring to my wedding. Here''s to you!"


    "Haha, drink, drink!" the nobles cheered, pping the tabletop and raising their cups.


    The life of the nobles could be monotonous, with only banquets and martial tournaments to spark their interest.


    As the wine flowed, the revelry reached its peak. Some nobles, who weren''t drinking, ate a bit of food and brought out dice for games.


    Bang��


    Suddenly, the castle door closed with a muffled sound. Some looked over, seeing nothing amiss, and continued their festivities. Others, however, were more alert.


    Old Lord Grimm Grafton, the Lord of Gulltown, sensed something was wrong. Frowning, he called his grandson over and whispered, "I feel a bit uneasy. Help me upstairs and fetch your sister."


    Living over 60 years had made Grimm cautious and discreet, never one to take unnecessary risks.


    Joffrey set down his ss and obediently helped his grandfather leave the table. Joining them was Lester Waynwood, who had earlier challenged Rhaegar. He had his eye on a Vale girl and was eager for a private meeting on the second floor.

 Chapter 174: Black Wedding II

    Chapter 174: ck Wedding II


    The banquet didn��t falter despite a few missing attendees; instead, it grew more boisterous with time. The aristocrats pushed and exchanged sses, theirughter and chatter filling the hall.


    Rhea leaned back in her chair, irritated by the noise. She drained her ss of wine, intending to get up and leave.


    Her husband, Gerold, sat nearby, fiddling with his knife and fork. Rhea had forbidden him from drinking, warning him that he wouldn''t be allowed to go to bed if he did.


    "My lord, have a drink!" a waiter whispered, approaching with a sk of wine.


    Gerold waved him off impatiently. "Go away, don''t bother me!"


    The smell of the wine made him feel as if worms were writhing in his stomach, his heart itching with desire. Shaking his head, he gazed at the table and suddenly froze.


    He noticed the footwear of the head waiter - a pair of fine buckskin boots, far too luxurious for a mere servant.


    Upon closer inspection, he saw dark red stains on the boots. Gerold''s frown deepened. He recognized the color as dried blood.


    Lifting his head, Gerold stared at the male servant''s face. The man kept his head down as if to avoid recognition. Sensing Gerold''s gaze, the attendant slowly raised his head, revealing a familiar, smiling face."Lord Gerold, long time no see!"


    It was the face of a teenager Gerold knew only too well. "Arnold!!!" Gerold eximed, his voice a mixture of shock and anger.


    Arnold was a former retainer of Runestone who had gone to the Eyrie to challenge Jeyne''s authority, only to disappear after being driven away.


    As Gerold called out his name, Arnold''s smile turned grim, and he spun around to flee.


    Gerold shouted, "Guards! There''s a traitor in the castle, catch him!"


    But no one responded.


    Suddenly, a middle-aged man with his feet on the table, drinking from a wine bottle, copsed to the ground, his body limp. His neighbor nudged him, only to find ck blood seeping from his mouth, emitting a thick, fishy odor.


    "Poison in the wine!" someone bellowed, overturning the table in front of them. Panic erupted as nobles realized the danger, their revelry turning to chaos.


    Plop plop...


    As the shout echoed, a series of thuds followed. ck blood streamed from people''s mouths as they copsed to the ground, their necks contorted in death. Within moments, the hall was strewn with dozens of corpses.


    Horrified, Gerold turned his head to see Rhea slumped over the dining table, her body convulsing in pain, clearly poisoned as well.


    "Rhea!" Gerold cried, desperately shaking his wife. He had loved his valiant cousin since childhood. When he became an adult, Rhea had married Prince Daemon of the royal family, leaving Gerold to wait over ten years for his chance to be with her. They had just shared their first night together.


    "No! Rhea, please, stay with me..." Gerold trembled, his voice breaking.


    The old gods did not favor him. Rhea''s mouth opened wide, ck blood spilling out, her eyes bulging. Soon, her neck lolled, her legs stilled, and she stopped breathing.


    "No! No, no, no!!!" Gerold wailed in despair, clutching Rhea''s lifeless body. He hadn''t even had a chance to tell her his final regret.


    Rhea was dead. Painfully dead.


    "Draw your weapons and run!" someone shouted.


    A few who hadn''t drunk the poisoned wine drew their weapons, attempting to push open the castle gate to escape. In the chaos, more people sumbed to the poison, dying horrifically at the table.


    From the shadows, dozens of men dressed in animal skins emerged, wielding clubs and axes, attacking the survivors.


    Arnold hid behind a pir in the hall, clutching a wine bottle, his face twisted with madness. "You didn''t support me. I''m the rightful heir to the Eyrie. You all deserve to die!"


    "Bastard! Bastard!" Gerold''s eyes were red with fury as he held Rhea''s body, ring at the murderer.


    He and Rhea had been married for just one day, and now this bastard had poisoned his new wife.


    "Rhea! Wait for me. I''ll make him pay for your life!" Gerold stood up, his grief-stricken body trembling. He picked up a dead man''s sword.


    Arnold, startled, called out to the Mountain nsmen, "Kill him! Someone,e and kill him!"


    A dozen or so Mountain nsmen nced back and chose to ignore him.


    "He''s a fool leading the way. Dead is dead," one muttered, grabbing a piece of mutton and stuffing it into his mouth. "Go open the gate and inform the others to attack."


    "Get lost! If you want to go, you go. Don''t order me around!" another wildling snapped, walking towards the remaining survivors with his weapon.


    "Kill them!" he shouted.


    ...


    In a Canyon


    Rhaegar rode his white horse, leading his party into the narrow mouth of the canyon. Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine. Overwhelmed by the sensation, he felt a profound sense of unease.


    "What''s going on?" he muttered, rolling up his sleeves. The fine hairs on his arms stood on end, something that had never happened to him before.


    As the group continued to move forward, Rhaegar looked up at the sky, puzzled. The sky was blue and clear, but there was no sight of the dark figure of Cannibal. The dragon had flown ahead and was hunting near the Bay of Crabs, unable to wait for the slow-moving convoy.


    Despite this, Rhaegar wasn''t overly concerned. Runestone and Gulltown were built north and south of each other, and they had already traveled half the distance. With Cannibal''s speed, it would take only ten minutes for the dragon to return.


    Gada Gada...


    The wagon wheels crunched over the gravel, creating a piercing sound as the group entered the middle of the canyon. Rhaegar held the reins tightly, his agitation growing with every step. He had a bad feeling.


    Prompted by his instincts, he pulled the reins, stopping his white horse. The carriage behind him gradually slowed to a halt. Rhaenyra poked her head out of the carriage curtain, smiling.


    "Why have you stopped, Rhaegar?"


    "Where is Syrax?" Rhaegar asked directly, not wasting any words.


    "Syrax?" Rhaenyra paused, confused. "She went hunting."


    "Can you sense her and call her back?" Rhaegar suggested, while mentally calling out to Cannibal himself. He trusted his premonition. Something was terribly wrong.


    "I''ll try," Rhaenyra said, her expression uneasy. She focused on sensing Syrax.


    With a nudge of his horse''s belly, Rhaegar rode to the back of the line and found a lean soldier. "Send someone to the front to find out what''s going on!"


    "Yes, Your Highness!" The soldier responded quickly, turning to call for men.


    Whoosh��


    A bone arrow flew in,nding at the soldier''s feet. Rhaegar''s pupils contracted, and he immediately drew his Dragon w sword.


    Swish swish swish...


    In the next second, a rain of dense bone arrows fell from the sky.


    "Ah!..." The soldiers in the queue barely had time to react before they were struck by the arrows, letting out cries of pain.


    The lean soldier was just about to draw his sword when a bone arrow struck the back of his neck, the tip emerging from his mouth. He copsed, lifeless.

 Chapter 175: Black Wedding III

    Chapter 175: ck Wedding III


    "Dodge!!!" Rhaegar shouted, alerting Rhaenyra in the carriage as the soldier fell dead before him.


    Ding ding ding ding ding��


    Bone arrows rained from above. Rhaegar swiftly swung his Dragon w sword, deflecting the iing arrows.


    "Whinny~~" His white horse wasn''t as fortunate. An arrow pierced its eye, and the horse let out a pained cry, stumbling before copsing to the ground.


    Plop...


    Rhaegar fell heavily onto the back of the horse, rolling quickly to avoid being crushed. Bone arrows continued to fall, narrowly missing him as he scrambled to his feet, agilely knocking away another arrow with his sword.


    While Rhaegar managed to dodge the arrows, his soldiers weren''t as lucky.


    "Ah!..." The soldiers in the canyon became living targets, falling quickly to the relentless assault.


    Rhaegar''s primary concern was the two wagons, especially Rhaenyra still inside. The solid wood of the wagons withstood the bone arrows, the thick wood preventing them from piercing through. Only a few iron-tipped arrows managed to prate, but just barely.Rhaegar sprinted towards the wagons, his Dragon w shing as he deflected more arrows. Reaching the side of the carriage, he ducked into the limited shelter it provided.


    "Rhaegar!" Rhaenyra''s frightened voice called out from inside.


    Bone arrows had found their way through the carriage windows, but Rhaenyra had heeded Rhaegar''s warning and was huddled in a corner, avoiding the deadly projectiles.


    "Stay hidden and keep quiet!" Rhaegar called back, relieved to hear her voice. He knew he had to protect her at all costs. Besides his father, Rhaenyra was the most important person to him.


    "Rhaegar, what''s happening? Get inside the wagon!" Rhaenyra''s voice trembled, clinging to the corner of the wagon. She had heard the soldier''s screams and feared for Rhaegar''s safety.


    Rhaegar didn''t have time to answer; his eyes darted to the other wagon. Jeyne and Jessamyn were inside, their screams audible, indicating they were still alive.


    As Rhaegar''s thoughts wandered, the rain of bone arrows ceased. He pressed against the wagon, wary of making any sudden moves, uncertain if a second volley might follow.


    Suddenly, from the bushes and rocks on both sides of the canyon, Mountain nsmen emerged, armed with bows and weapons.


    "Kill! The Vale bitch is in the cart!" an ugly,nky man shouted from atop a huge rock, his voice echoing through the canyon.


    The Mountain nsmen discarded their crude wooden bows, leaping down the hillside like a swarm, rolling into the valley. Rhaegar peeked out to see hundreds of attackers swarming into the canyon.


    "Dammit, we''re in big trouble!" he muttered, pressing his back against the wagon and tightening his grip on his Dragon w sword. He hadn''t expected an ambush between Runestone and Gulltown; this road had never been dangerous before.


    "Hold on! The Cannibals are hurrying back!" Rhaegar called to Rhaenyra in the wagon, trying to bolster both her spirits and his own. When the arrows first fell, he had mentally summoned the Cannibal dragon, hoping it would arrive in time to turn the tide.


    In a short span, hundreds of Mountain nsmen had descended into the canyon, menacingly advancing toward the two wagons.


    "Rhaegar!" Rhaenyra poked her head out, her eyes wide with fear as she saw the approaching horde. Without her dragon, she felt powerless.


    Inside the other wagon, Jeyne and Jessamyn clung to each other, huddling in a corner. Jeyne''s arm was pierced by an arrow, blood soaking through her sleeve.


    "Mountain ns, we''ve been ambushed!" Jeyne whispered, pulling back the corner of the curtain to glimpse the surrounding attackers, her fingers trembling. The sight of the Mountain nsmen brought back haunting memories��her father and brothers had perished in a simr ambush.


    "Surround the wagons and kill the Vale bitch!" the Mountain ns'' leader shouted.


    At hismand, the attackers closed in on the two wagons, weapons drawn. In the face of this dire threat, Rhaegar made a swift decision and stepped out from behind the wagon. He needed to buy time, knowing that the Cannibal dragon was only minutes away.


    Gripping his Dragon w sword tightly, Rhaegar stepped in front of the wagon, ready to defend those inside.


    The Mountain nsmen, seeing only one young man standing against them,ughed heartily and tightened their circle.


    "Stop!" Rhaegar shouted, his voice cutting through the air. Blood surged through his veins as he prepared for the inevitable sh.


    No one heeded hismand. The Mountain ns continued their advance, treating him as nothing more than a minor obstacle. They believed one boy could easily be felled with a single swing of an axe.


    As Rhaegar advanced to meet them, his voice grew cold and resolute. "I am Rhaegar Targaryen, heir to the throne. Stand down, or face the consequences!"


    His deration was met with derision. The Mountain ns had in many lords of the Vale and had always thrived in chaos and defiance.


    "Rhaegar, listen to me! You can still escape!" Rhaenyra''s voice called from the wagon behind him, urging him to save himself while there was still a chance.


    Rhaegar didn''t waver. His expression rxed into calm determination as he faced the enemy. Behind him were Rhaenyra and Lady Jeyne. He would not abandon them.


    "I am of true dragon blood," he murmured, raising his Dragon w sword to his eyes. The de glinted with a deadly light.


    His father once asked him what the dragon''s ws symbolized. His answer was simple: "Fearlessness."


    Now, he would embody that will.


    "Kill him!" the Mountain ns'' leader bellowed, pointing at Rhaegar.


    With a roar, the nsmen charged. The gap between them closed rapidly, and Rhaegar could almost smell their rank odor.


    He slowed his breathing, tightened his grip on the sword hilt, and waited for the right moment.


    "I''m going to chop off your white-haired head!" one nsman yelled, swinging a stone axe at him.


    Rhaegar sidestepped, swinging his sword in a fluid motion, and decapitated the attacker. The head rolled away as more nsmen lunged at him with their weapons.


    In an instant, Rhaegar was surrounded. He thrust his sword through one man''s throat, then pivoted to slice another''s neck. Blood sprayed in all directions.


    The nsmen cursed and attacked with stone axes, spears, and mallets. Rhaegar moved with practiced precision, each stroke of his sword finding its mark. He was relentless, his movements bing a blur of steel and blood.


    "Get away! I won''t die in a ce like this!" he roared, cutting down another attacker.


    He fought with increasing ferocity, his will unbreakable. More wildlings joined the fray, encircling him withyers of bodies. The fallen corpses piled up, limiting his movement.


    The air was thick with the stench of blood. Rhaegar''s pale skin turned crimson as he continued to fight, his body radiating heat.

 Chapter 176: Bloodline Awakening – Pyromancer

    Chapter 176: Bloodline Awakening �C Pyromancer


    Rhaegar''s sword opened the enemy''s belly, and intestines spilled out with a sickening gurgle. Blood sttered across his face, coloring his purple eyes with a touch of scarlet. His chest heaved, his breath hot and heavy, distorting the air around him.


    Whoosh��


    A dark arrow descended from the sky, piercing his left shoulder with tremendous force. Rhaegar staggered, ncing up to see the Mountain ns leader on the canyon ridge, holding a curved bow.


    Pfft...


    A bronze spear struck from behind, piercing through his back and out his stomach. Searing pain shot through him as blood flowed from the wound. Rhaegar turned and decapitated the sneak attacker with a swift strike of his sword.


    "Heh..."


    Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, and Rhaegar''s body trembled slightly. Despite the wounds, he felt no pain. His mind was clearer than ever, and his body surged with newfound strength. He sliced through the spear shaft protruding from his abdomen.


    "Out of the way, I''ll kill him!" a booming voice called out.


    Rhaegar''s vision was obscured by the throng of Mountain nsmen. He saw them parting, some being thrown aside like rag dolls. The space around him cleared, giving him room to move.Through blood-stained hair, Rhaegar saw a massive figure charging towards him. An ugly Mountain nsman, over three meters tall with gnarled muscles and an ox-horn helmet, barreled forward.


    "Descendant of giants?" Rhaegar thought. True giants stood around six meters tall; this brute must have giant blood in him.


    "Shorty, I''ll tear you apart!" the giant bellowed, raising a shield-sized palm to strike.


    Rhaegar sidestepped, shing at the giant''s wrist.


    ng...


    The sound of metal against metal rang out, sparks flying. Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as he continued to dodge. The giant paused, revealing crude iron wrist guards beneath his thick fur sleeves.


    Taking advantage of the giant''s confusion, Rhaegar bent his knees and lunged, aiming for the giant''s abdomen.


    ng...


    Again, the sword met resistance. "Haha, my belt is sturdy!" the giantughed, pping his stomach with a resounding thud. His body was covered in hidden protective gear.


    Rhaegar rolled and swung his sword once more, this time cutting through the giant''s chest. The de sliced through animal skin, and foul blood sprayed out.


    "Ah! Tran will crush you!" the giant roared, his massive hands swiping at Rhaegar like gates.


    The surrounding Mountain nsmen hesitated, forming a loose ring around the twobatants. Rhaegar dodged the giant''s blows, but a spear thrust blocked his escape.


    Bang--


    With a momentarypse, Rhaegar couldn''t dodge half giant Tran''s massive p. He raised his arms, bracing with his dragon ws, but the force sent him flying.


    "Rhaegar!!!"


    Rhaenyra''s scream pierced the chaos, her eyes welling with tears. Hidden in the carriage, she couldn''t see the full battle but saw Rhaegar, bloodied, hurtling through the air.


    He hit the ground with a heavy thud, his head buzzing. Instinctively, he rolled to lessen the impact. His skin flushed red, steam rising from his body, especially from the wounds on his shoulder and abdomen. Blood sizzled on the grass.


    Suddenly, a system beep echoed in his mind.


    "Congrattions, the blessing of the Lord of Light has been activated. You have obtained..."


    Through blood-stained eyshes, Rhaegar''s vision cleared.


    [Pyromancer]


    Grade: Epic (Purple)


    Function: Stimtes the power hidden in the bloodline.


    Evaluation: "Empty of blood, now you have gained a corresponding talent."


    A token engraved with the zing sun''s red heart materialized, then burst into mes. The firework-like sparks floated down, merging into his flesh.


    Zira--


    mes ignited from the corner of his eye, drawing his attention.


    Whew...


    Fire erupted from his body, spreading to every corner. His long silver-gold hair flew wildly, sparks crackling. Slowly, Rhaegar stood, Dragon w in hand, feeling warmth and strength surge through him.


    He looked down at his abdomen. The blood in his wound coagted under the mes. Rhaegar grabbed the spear''s tip and yanked it out with a puff. Blood spurted, quickly igniting, as the mes converged on the wound, sealing it.


    He repeated the process with the arrow in his shoulder, his mind racing. Realization dawned as he called the system panel.


    [Rhaegar Targaryen]


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold), Pyromancer (Purple), Longevity (Green)


    Bloodline: Ancient Valyrian Dragonlord (+42%)


    Skills: Sword Mastery, Spear Mastery, Old Valyrian Language Proficiency...


    Relics: Blood and Fire, True Dragon''s Blood, Dreamscape...


    Evaluation: "Ancient bloodlines are awakened, and powerful gifts are born. The Dragonlord''s bloodline is purified."


    "Have I be a Pyromancer?" Rhaegar muttered, puzzled. His bloodline purity had been stuck for years, unable to cross 40%. Now, as a Pyromancer, his bloodline had advanced.


    Or perhaps, it was the purification of his bloodline that made him a Pyromancer. The two elementsplemented each other.


    Contemting for a moment, Rhaegar gripped the de of his Dragon w tightly and drew it across his palm.


    A stabbing sound, his palm cut, and blood stained Dragon w. Instantly, the de burst into mes, the unique water wave pattern of Valyrian steel seeming toe alive, rippling slightly.


    "Fire! mes are burning on his body!"


    The transformation startled and terrified the besieging Mountain ns.


    "Get out of the way! The tribe has plenty of torches; what are you afraid of?"


    The half giant pushed aside his kin blocking the path and charged with his fists.


    Rhaegar, expressionless, sped Dragon w with both hands, silently limating to the me''s enchantment. When the half giant''s fist came crashing down, Rhaegar didn''t dodge. Instead, he rushed forward, shing his sword across his unprotected fingers.


    St...


    Three thick fingers were severed, falling to the ground.


    "Ah! Damn it!"


    The intense pain drove the half giant into a frenzy, arching his back and waving his arms wildly. Rhaegar struck again, this time slicing into the giant''s bare arm, the de lodging deep in the bone.


    The giant wailed and cursed, pressing the de against his arm, and with a mighty effort, yanked it free. Rhaegar''s expression remained unchanged as he abandoned the sword and dodged.


    "Die, bug!"


    The half giant, believing he had disarmed Rhaegar,ughed harshly and lunged with open arms.


    "It''s you who should die!"


    Rhaegar rolled forward, turned to face his opponent, and swiftly thrust out his right arm. The space bracelet on his wrist shed, and a two-meter-long spear materialized in his hand.


    Poof...


    The spear''s one-foot-long head plunged into the half giant''s heart.


    "Ho ho..."


    With his heart pierced, the half giant''s eyes widened, and a huge mouthful of blood gushed out. Using hisst strength, he tried to close his arms around Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar pulled out the spearhead, gripping the end with his left hand, and thrust it forward, stabbing the giant in the throat. With a powerful swing, the Valyrian steel tip shattered the cervical vertebrae, decapitating the giant.

 Chapter 177: A Dragonlord’s Wrath

    Chapter 177: A Dragonlord��s Wrath


    The giant''s head rolled away, its size dwarfed by the fury in Rhaegar''s heart. Blood boiled through his veins, his entire body surging with untamed energy.


    Under the mes, he felt invincible.


    Rising, he picked up the ming Dragon w with one hand and gripped his spear with the other. His eyes, sharp and cold, scanned the Mountain ns, who now hesitated to advance.


    After killing the Half Giant, the mes around him intensified, dancing wildly in the wind.


    Rhaegar advanced toward the gathered Mountain ns, his arms spread wide, head held high, and bellowed:


    "Come on! Kill me! Kill a Dragonlord!"


    Fear gripped the Mountain ns as they stared at the fire-wreathed silver-haired boy.


    Continuing forward, Rhaegar pointed his spear at them, his voice booming, "I am Rhaegar Targaryen. I am Rhaegar Targaryen! Who dares to take my life?"


    His voice echoed through the Vale, reaching every ear.At this moment, he was fearless.


    With the bloodline of the Dragonlord and the talent of a Pyromancer, he was no ordinary human being.


    The Mountain ns retreated further, pushing and shoving each other, none daring to be the first to attack.


    A young man engulfed in mes had in the strongest descendant of giants in the Vale, a spectacle that transcended theirprehension.


    In their eyes, Rhaegar was no longer human. He was a fire god who had performed a miracle.


    Up in the canyon, the Mountain ns leader, eyes wide with disbelief, shouted frantically, "Kill him! He''s exhausted, kill him!"


    He had met the me Witch of the tribe and knew the will of the God of me. The fire-bathing boy before him had to be a fake.


    "Fake!"


    Hearing themander''s order, the Mountain ns forced themselves to stop retreating, trying to resist the urge to flee.


    Rhaegar continued to advance, his expression indifferent. With each step, he closed the distance between them.


    The Mountain ns gripped their weapons tightly, their fear palpable.


    "Go! He is alone!"


    A shout came from the crowd, and the Mountain ns, overwhelmed by the intensity or unable to cope with the fear, rushed forward in a swarm.


    Rhaegar''s face remained calm and unperturbed, his spear and sword at the ready.


    The distance closed rapidly, and soon their weapons shed.


    "Roar!!"


    Suddenly, a dragon''s roar echoed through the sky, and a vast shadow enveloped the entire Vale.


    Boom...


    Ghostly green Dragonfire cascaded from the sky, a torrent engulfing half of the Vale. The Mountain ns didn''t even have time to scream; they were incinerated instantly, turned to ash within moments.


    Rhaegar tilted his head back and closed his eyes, standing resolute in the Dragonfire.


    Nearby, everything��rocks, grass, trees, and even iron weapons��had melted away, leaving a vast expanse of scorched earth. In the eerie green glow of the Dragonfire, only Rhaegar''s reddish aura remained.


    Half a secondter, the mes ceased.


    Cannibal''s immense ck form hovered above the Vale, its green eyes zing with madness, dragonfire still spewing from its maw.


    "It''s over."


    Rhaegar opened his eyes as the mes on his body gradually extinguished. Looking around, he saw nothing but devastation; no survivors remained.


    Turning back, he saw the two carriages, miraculously unscathed by the Dragonfire.


    Suddenly, his ears twitched at a faint sound.


    His gaze locked onto the upper part of the canyon. The leader of the Mountain ns had crawled up from the ground, running in a panic.


    A faint sting in his left shoulder made Rhaegar smirk.


    The dark arrow had hurt him, but the leader wouldn''t escape.


    He picked up his spear and hurled it.


    The spear cut through the air, and with a swift descent, it pierced through the fleeing leader''s chest, pinning him to the ground.


    A mouthful of blood spurted out as the leader writhed and wailed in agony.


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed as he switched Dragon w to his right hand and climbed the hill to the canyon''s top.


    Jogging to his opponent, he saw the pleading look in the leader''s eyes.


    Rhaegar hesitated.


    Then, with a swift motion, he swung his sword several times, severing the leader''s limbs.


    He had intended to extract useful information, but the leader''s expression revealed nothing.


    "You don''t deserve a quick death."


    Pulling out his spear, Rhaegar staggered, almost copsing.


    "Roar..."


    As the battle''s adrenaline waned, sharp pain surged through his body. Rhaegar sucked in a breath, his mouth twitching from the agony.


    It hurt too much! Especially the wound in his lower abdomen, as if someone had yanked out his intestines, cleaned them, and stuffed them back in.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal swooped down, his wings casting a shadow over thend as he descended, his body blocking out the sunlight.


    Sniffing the air, it detected the scent of blood as Rhaegar''s wounds pulsed, blood gushing forth without the support of mes.


    "Rhaegar!"


    Rhaenyra''s panicked scream pierced the air. She bolted from the carriage, tears streaming down her cheeks, scrambled up the hill, and threw herself at Rhaegar''s side like a possessed woman.


    Rhaenyra had stayed hidden, knowing she would be a liability to Rhaegar in the midst of the Mountain ns'' siege. But with Cannibal''s return, she was overwhelmed with relief and rushed to her brother''s side.


    "Oh... your wound..."


    Rhaenyra covered her mouth, tears flowing freely as she examined the heavily bleeding wound, her heart breaking at the sight. This was the brother she''d raised since childhood, their bond deeper than blood.


    Suddenly, she thought of something.


    "Rhaegar, bear with it."


    Gritting her teeth, Rhaenyra tore at the fabric of her skirt, hastily wrapped her arms around Rhaegar''s waist, and clumsily fashioned a bandage to stop the bleeding.


    Rhaenyra grimaced, sweat beading her forehead as she supported Rhaegar''s weight against her body as his legs gave out. The wound was severe and he couldn''t use his waist.


    "Just a little longer, we need to stop the bleeding," she murmured, her eyes brimming with tears as she worked frantically.


    "We need to leave," Rhaegar rasped, enduring the pain as he leaned heavily against Rhaenyra''s shoulder.


    He hadn''t felt the extent of his injuries during the battle, but now the pain was searing.


    "We can''t go to Eyrie, it''s too far," he continued, his voice strained. "Back to Runestone. It''s risky, but we have no choice."


    Rhaenyra''s heart skipped a beat. "But what if there''s a traitor in Runestone?"


    "We must risk it," Rhaegar insisted. "The Mountain ns may have only sent a fraction of their forces. The rest could be waiting in Runestone."


    Runestone housed many of the Vale''s nobles. If it fell to the Mountain ns, chaos would ensue.


    Rhaenyra hesitated, fearing the danger. "Gulltown?"


    "Not safe either," Rhaegar replied. "Runestone it is. We''ll rally the nobles and prepare for the worst."


    "Okay," Rhaenyra nodded, resigned. "Let''s get you on Cannibal."


    With great effort, they helped Rhaegar onto Cannibal''s back, the dragon obediently lowering itself for its rider.

 Chapter 178: Cannibal’s Wrath

    Chapter 178: Cannibal��s Wrath


    "Rhaenyra, I''m here to help you!"


    Jeyne''s hoarse voice rang out.


    Rhaenyra turned to see Jeyne struggling up the hill, carrying an unconscious Jessamyn.


    "How is she?" Rhaenyra asked, forcing a smile, her concern more perfunctory than genuine.


    "She''s weak from blood loss," Jeyne replied, her voice dazed. She gentlyid Jessamyn on the ground and moved to support Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar nced at her, noticing her dull eyes and slight tremble��signs of shock.


    "Be careful not to aggravate the wound," Jeyne warned, carefully taking Rhaegar''s arm, her grip tight.


    She had witnessed Rhaegar''s solo stand against the Mountain ns. In the heat of the battle, she had drawn her dagger, ready to end both her and her friend''s lives if Rhaegar fell. By some miracle, they had survived.


    Bloodied swords, flying sparks, and a zing dragon had been her reality moments ago. Her worldview had been shattered and reshaped by the sight of Rhaegar''s valiant fight and the dragon''s fiery wrath."This is a miracle!" Jeyne murmured, clutching Rhaegar''s arm tighter, seeking security.


    With great effort, Rhaegar ttened himself on Cannibal''s back. The saddle would only worsen his injuries.


    Rhaenyra and Jeyne climbed off the dragon, then carefully lifted Jessamyn onto its back. Syrax, not as swift as Cannibal, was still on its way back.


    Rhaenyra settled into the saddle and earnestly pleaded, "Cannibal, fly us back to Runestone safely."


    "Roar..." Cannibal rumbled, slowly standing and pping its wings to stabilize its flight. It understood the gravity of the situation.


    Behind the saddle, Rhaegar and Jessamyny on the dragon''s back. Jeyne sat between them, holding each of their hands, her eyes tightly shut as she fought her fear of heights.


    She held on firmly, though the fear of falling was unfounded; Cannibal, an adult dragon, had a broad back and flew smoothly, ensuring their safety.


    ...


    Runestone


    The outer walls of the castle stood firmly shut. Soldiers atop the battlements drew their bows, loosing arrows and hurling logs and stones down upon the attackers. Below, clusters of Mountain nsmen swarmed together, their crudedders and siege wagons crashing chaotically against the city gates.


    "Don''t stop the rolling logs! Bring up the oil!" bellowed Gerold, d in iron armor,manding the battle from the city gate.


    "Lord Gerold, we''re running out of soldiers at the gates!" Lester Waynwood arrived breathless, panic evident in his eyes.


    "Send a team to reinforce them, now!" Gerold''s face was smeared with blood as he shouted orders.


    An hour earlier, most of the guests at the wedding banquet had died from poisoning. Amid the chaos, a dozen Mountain nsmen infiltrated the castle through a secret passage, intending to kill the survivors.


    Fortunately, Gerold and a few other Vale knights held their ground, fighting the intruders to a standstill. Lester and Joffrey, positioned on the second floor, provided critical support, helping to repel the attackers.


    However, their relief was short-lived. Arge force of Mountain nsmen appeared outside Runestone City, forcing the soldiers to immediately shut the gates and prepare for a siege.


    Despite heavy casualties, the Mountain nsmen persisted in their relentless assault.


    Gerold grabbed a messenger, his voice tense with urgency. "Did the raven carrying our plea for help to Gulltown get out?"


    Gulltown, the closest and most powerful town, was their best hope for reinforcements. The Lord of Gulltown and his family were also present in Runestone, ensuring that any message would be quickly acted upon.


    "The raven has flown out, my lord," the messenger confirmed.


    Relieved, Gerold released the man. The Royce House of Runestone was among the most powerful in the Vale. The city''s walls were as robust as a fortress, and theymanded hundreds of cavalry and three thousand soldiers.


    However, with half their forces transferred to support Longbow Hall, only about a thousand soldiers remained in Runestone.


    Outside the city, the Mountain nsmen''s assault was unrelenting. The sheer number of attackers stretched as far as the eye could see.


    Gerold had just experienced the agony of losing his wife, and now, for the first time, he found himselfmanding arge-scale battle. His heart was heavy with unease.


    The siege wagons ground to a halt at the city gates, their hammers pounding repeatedly against the doors. Soldiers on the walls poured oil and shot arrows in a mercilessly.


    The oil ignited instantly, engulfing the siege wagons and the surrounding Mountain nsmen in mes. Screams of agony echoed through the battlefield, mingling with the acrid scent of blood and burning flesh.


    "Attack! Climb the walls!" a burly, disfigured man shouted as he climbed adder, urging his fellow tribesmen to follow.


    This was Shae, the eldest son of the Stone Crows tribe''s patriarch. His two younger brothers had been sent on another mission.


    Despite the defenders'' best efforts, the sheer number of Mountain nsmen proved overwhelming.


    Logs and stones rained down from the walls, and oil fires zed, but the attackers continued to climb. The walls of Runestone, only seven or eight meters high, allowed a few determined invaders to slip through the defenses.


    "Kill!" Gerold drew his sword and shed at the Mountain nsmen who managed to breach the walls. But no matter how quickly he moved, he couldn''t prevent more from scaling the fortifications.


    Soon, more than a dozen Mountain nsmen had reached the top, killing soldiers and causing chaos.


    Shocked and desperate, Gerold rallied his troops to defend the city. Suddenly, a dragon roar echoed from the distance, silencing the battlefield as all eyes turned to the sky.


    A pitch-ck dragon burst through the clouds and swooped down on Runestone. Its ghostly green mes scorched the battlefield, leaving screams of agony in its wake. Another dragon, golden and majestic, followed close behind, unleashing its own torrent of golden fire.


    "No! What kind of monsters are they? Run!" The sight of the dragons'' fury sent the Mountain nsmen into a panic, abandoning their weapons and fleeing in terror.


    "Burn them all!" Rhaenyra, sitting on Cannibal''s back, her face contorted with rage,manded the dragon to unleash its fire.


    The two dragons, one ck and one gold, circled above the battlefield, their mes crisscrossing in a devastating pattern. The Mountain nsmen, packed tightly on the ground, were incinerated en masse.


    Rhaenyra, consumed by vengeance, pursued them relentlessly. She and Rhaegar had nearly perished at the hands of these savages, and she was determined that they would pay in blood and fire.


    "Help! Help me!" came the desperate cries of the fleeing nsmen, their voices cut short by the dragons'' fire.


    In moments, the area around Runestone was reduced to scorched earth, littered with the bodies of the dead. Only a few Mountain nsmen escaped into the Vale and the forests; the rest were consumed by the dragonfire.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes were red, her face streaked with dried tears. "Rhaenyra, stop chasing!" Jeyne cried out in panic, clinging to Rhaegar and Jessamyn on the dragon''s back.


    "Be gentle, Jeyne," Rhaegar''s face was pale as he held Jeyne''s trembling hand. He shared her desire to annihte the Mountain ns, but the pain from his wounds was unbearable.


    Rhaenyra snapped out of her fury at the sound of his voice, turning to look worriedly behind the saddle. "Cannibal,nd at Runestone," Rhaegarmanded, patting the pitch-ck scales beneath him.


    The dragon obeyed and descended toward the besieged city.

 Chapter 179: Runes: Bronze and Bridled Serpent

    Chapter 179: Runes: Bronze and Bridled Serpent


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal couldn''t hear Rhaegar''s voice, but their minds were as one, and the dragon immediately responded to hismand.


    With a final st of Dragonfire incinerating a group of fleeing Mountain nsmen, Cannibal turned and soared towards Runestone.


    Syrax, however, did not take themand and continued to pursue the Mountain nsmen as far as the eye could see.


    As a almost adult dragon, it was impervious to ordinary bows and arrows, except for the deadly scorpion crossbow. Rhaenyra was relieved to know that Syrax could handle himself.


    Cannibal flew over Runestone andnded in the clearing of the front yard. On the city walls, Gerold had dispatched all the Mountain nsmen who had breached the defenses, his eyes now fixed on the two dragons.


    Everyone in Westeros knew that dragons were synonymous with power, but few had actually witnessed their might. Seeing the two dragons incinerate thousands of Mountain nsmen left Gerold in stunned awe. It was as if he had witnessed the power of the gods.


    "Quickly! The prince is hurt, get the Maester!" Jeyne''s voice broke through Gerold''s daze, her urgent cry snapping him back to reality.


    ...Night fell.


    In a dimly lit bedroom, Rhaegary unconscious on a bed, his body stripped bare. Herbs and bandages covered his shoulders and abdomen, treating his injuries from the recent bloody battle.


    Despite the severity of the fight, his injuries were limited to two major wounds and several bruises.


    The Runestone Maester had assessed his condition and determined that neither wound was critical. The arrow hadn''t hit any bones, and the stab wound in his abdomen hadn''t damaged his intestines. With proper care and prevention of infection, he would recover.


    Creak...


    The door to the room opened slightly and Rhaenyra entered, carrying a bundle in her arms.


    "Rhaegar," she called softly, hoping to wake him.


    Seeing no response, Rhaenyra walked silently to his bed. In her arms were two precious items: a sheathed half-sword and an ancient bronze breastte.


    She drew the sword halfway, revealing the undting pattern on the Valyrian steel de. This sword, called Lamentation, was a treasured heirloom of House Royce of Runestone.


    She ced the sword beside Rhaegar and ced his left hand on the hilt. Then she ced the bronze breastte at his feet, making sure one foot touched it.


    The breastte, aged and green with patina, bore faint runic carvings around its heart and edges.


    The Royce House, founded in the Heroic Era, was known as the "Bronze Kings". They specialized in bronze casting and still used bronze armor and weapons, a tradition reflected in the nickname Daemon once used for his ex-wife, "Bronze Bitch".


    The Royce House worshipped the Old Gods and believed in the power of runes, which they inscribed on their bronze armor to increase its strength and protective properties. The breastte Rhaenyra brought was the oldest surviving piece, rumored to be thousands of years old.


    "Rhaegar, you must wake quickly," Rhaenyra whispered, nting a soft kiss on his forehead.


    Fetching Lamentation and the Bronze Armor was Rhaegar''s request before he lost consciousness, believing that these ancient objects would give him strength.


    Though Rhaenyra didn''t fully understand their significance, she granted his wish. She knew that Rhaegar had a passion for collecting antiquities, and many of the exotic items he had given her had been acquired at great expense.


    With her taskpleted, Rhaenyra hesitated before deciding to stay. She removed her boots and climbed into bed beside Rhaegar, lying on her side with her head propped on one hand. She didn''t feelfortable leaving him alone and wanted to be by his side all the time.


    ording to Gerold, a hidden tunnel had been discovered in Runestone, leading to the massacre of almost all the Vale nobles who had attended the banquet. Though the tunnel was now sealed and soldiers patrolled Runestone around the clock, Rhaenyra''s fear persisted. She didn''t want Rhaegar out of her sight.


    As sleep overcame her, she remained unaware of the significance the two artifacts held for Rhaegar.


    A system prompt echoed in his mind: "This quest has begun. The target is the Valyrian steel sword, Lamentation."


    Exploration Progress: 0.3%


    Time passed, and in the middle of the night, another system beep sounded: "This exploration isplete. Please retrieve the lost treasure.


    Then: "This quest is open. The target is the Runic Armor."


    [Runic Armor]


    Exploration Progress: 0.3%


    Rhaegar''s eyelids fluttered slightly as if disturbed, but he did not wake up. He had long wanted to explore the Royce family''s treasures, Lamentation and the Bronze Armor, but had refrained due to theplications of his marriage rtionships with them.


    Now, with Rhea dead and the Runestone in turmoil, everything had been simplified. At Rhaenyra''s request, Gerold had generously loaned the artifacts.


    Creak...


    The door opened again and a silhouette stood at the entrance, peering through the narrow crack.


    "Rhaenyra..." Jeyne murmured softly. Her long chestnut hair hung over her chest as she spotted her best friend lying on the bed.


    She left the room in silence, closing the door behind her.


    ...


    At dawn the next day, Rhaegar was awakened by a system alert.


    "This quest is over. Please retrieve the lost treasure."


    He groggily opened his eyes, blinking in the dim morning light. A small, delicate hand rested on his chest, and he felt the warmth of a body beside him.


    "Rhaenyra?" he murmured.


    Rhaenyra blinked awake, her eyes meeting his. She had fallen asleep in her clothes, keeping watch over him through the night, her hand still gripping the hilt of his sword. At his feety the battered bronze breastte, glowing faintly with a purple aura.


    Rhaegar realized immediately that Rhaenyra had retrieved the items he had requested. He called up the system interface to check the status of the exploration quest.


    [Lamentation]


    Exploration Progress: 100%


    [Runic Armor]


    Exploration Progress: 100%


    Turning his head, he saw the half-sheathed Valyrian steel sword in his left hand. Beside the scabbard, another purple glow emanated from the ancient bronze breastte. With effort, Rhaegar moved his fingers to touch the purple halo and nudged the other glow with his foot.


    Two fireworks-like bursts of purple light erupted, and the system beeped.


    "Relic picked up sessfully, detection in progress..."


    "Detection sessful. Judged to be epic relics: Runic Greatsword and Watcher''s Armor."


    Rhaegar''s heart leaped with joy at acquiring two epic-level relics. Before he could investigate further, the system provided more details.


    "Congrattions, the Rune Greatsword has been activated. You have obtained..."


    [Rune: Bridled Serpent]


    Grade: Excellent (Blue)


    Function: Activates the power of the snake, quickly recovers from injuries.


    Evaluation: "One of the advanced runes, rare and precious in the age of disappearing runes."


    "Congrattions, the Guardian Armor has been activated. You have won..."


    [Rune: Bronze].


    Grade: Good (Green)


    Function: Provides protection.


    Evaluation: "One of the basic runes, a good way to save your life."


    As the knowledge of the runes flooded his mind, Rhaegar felt a rush of pleasure that seemed toe from his very soul, causing him to roll his eyes in ecstasy.


    "Ah!!"


    A sudden, mournful cry pierced the morning air and echoed through Runestone. The voice was young and filled with terror.

 Chapter 180: The Serpent’s Ability

    Chapter 180: The Serpent��s Ability


    The screams continued, though the thick stone walls of the castle muffled the sound, making it faint in the bedroom.


    Rhaegary there, absorbing the knowledge from the two runes, his breath quickening. The infusion of such knowledge was intoxicating, almost addictive. After a few moments, he felt the rush subside and took a deep breath.


    "Bronze, Serpent," he murmured, sifting through the newfound knowledge.


    The runic system was fundamentally different from the magic system. While his talent as a pyromancer allowed him to manipte mes, runes offered a unique way to harness magic through specific symbols and forms.


    Runes acted as a specialized medium for magic, requiring mental focus to carve and activate their powers. The Serpent Rune, for example, not only created a physical mark, but also established a specific spell or gesture for quick activation. The Bronze Rune, while basic, provided rare defensive capabilities, forming a magical armor piece by piece.


    As he grasped the significance of the runes, Rhaegar felt a mixture of shock and exhration. He tried to sit up, but pain shot through his left arm and abdomen, forcing him to lie down again.


    "I should test these runes," he thought, deciding to try something practical despite his injuries.


    Rhaegar nced at the sleeping Rhaenyra beside him, a faint smile touching his lips. The fact that he was alive and surrounded by those he cared about filled him with contentment.


    "Serpent," he mentallymanded, focusing his mind to carve the first rune of his life.Carving a rune required a supply of magic, but it wasn''t as demanding as the pyromancer''s talent, which required pure dragon blood or an affinity for fire.


    Every Targaryen carried a trace of magic in their blood, a heritage of "Blood and Fire."


    Enhanced by Dreamscape and his knowledge of runes, Rhaegar''s mental power was formidable. Concentrating deeply, he felt his magic flow smoothly throughout his body


    Buzz...


    A bright light flickered in Rhaegar''s heart as his mental strength mobilized the magic in his blood. Given his strong Targaryen bloodline, the magic was strong and robust.


    The light grew brighter, outlining a streak as ck as ink. Rhaegar frowned slightly as a strange murmur filled his ears. He remembered the words about runes on the Explorer''s System: "Each rune is a treasure to the world, and its birth is highly anticipated."


    Rhaegar smirked, dismissing the ethereal whispers, and focused on engraving the runes. Time passed slowly, and morning sunlight streamed through the zed window, casting a warm glow on the corner of the bed.


    On Rhaegar''s bandaged chest, a dark, ck serpent symbol began to form, emitting thick ck smoke. The serpent was long and twisted, with no eyes, nose, teeth, or tongue, only arge ck mouth disproportionate to its head.


    This was the prototype of the serpent rune. The next step was to create a spell or gesture to fully control the rune. Rhaegar''s talent with runes was remarkable; he engraved the advanced rune with precision and ease.


    He decided to implement a dual control system using both a spell and a gesture. This precaution was rmended in the runic knowledge, as one could never predict when they might lose the ability to speak or move.


    "Reverse!" he whispered in High Valyrian, setting the first stage. Suddenly, his face paled and cold sweat broke out on his forehead. The magic in his blood was almost gone. Any further extraction might burn out his blood supply.


    "Roar..."


    Just as he hesitated, a deep dragon roar echoed in his mind. A wave of fiery magic flooded his body. Rhaegar immediately recognized it as the magic of Cannibal, his dragon. Dragons were magical creatures, and their bodies were reservoirs of fire magic.


    This was the effect of the [Knight''s Oath]. Cannibal, as his guardian knight, shared a magical bond with him, allowing the transfer of power.


    Buzz...


    A powerful magic filled the room. The spell and gesture were sessfully set, and the rune was quickly engraved. The serpent rune twisted and turned, its slender body forming a circle with the mouth biting into the tail.


    Dark light blossomed, and wisps of ck smoke filled the room, dispersing the morning sunlight that filtered into the bedroom.


    "Uh huh~~"


    Rhaenyra grunted softly, her eyelids fluttering slightly as her arms and legs began to move.


    Rhaegar hesitated, then stopped supplying magic, causing the snake rune to dissipate. The bedroom returned to normal.


    "Rhaegar..."


    Rhaenyra woke, her eyes opening in a daze.


    "Calling someone?"


    Rhaegar smiled and took her small hand from his chest.


    "You''re awake?"


    Rhaenyra''s almond-shaped eyes widened in surprise, and she sat up quickly, a delighted curve appearing on her lips.


    "Rhaenyra, I''m hungry," Rhaegar said with a pitiful look, pointing to the morning sun.


    Yesterday''s intense battle had taken its toll. Ny percent of his blood and magic had been drained, leaving him weak.


    "You wait, I''ll prepare something for you right away."


    Rhaenyra hurriedly got out of bed, hastily put on her boots, and dashed out the door.


    "I still want to ask about the situation in Runestone..." Rhaegar trailed off as she disappeared.


    With a resigned smile, he retrieved a loaf of bread, a te of ham, and a bottle of milk from his space bracelet. Having such an artifact, it was only natural to keep some food handy.


    He intended to tease Rhaenyra, but she had already run off. After finishing his meal, Rhaegar felt much better, his hunger satiated.


    "Let''s test the ability of the Bridled Serpent Rune," he murmured.


    Rhaegar extended his right hand, touching his thumb and pinky together in a swearing gesture. Magic flowed, and the ck serpent rune appeared. He directed it towards the wound on his abdomen. The serpent released its tail and slithered into the wound.


    Zi Zi...


    ck smoke began to rise from the wound, visible to the naked eye. However, the smoke wasn''t caused by the serpent, but by the dirty air that had umted in the wound.


    The serpent opened its mouth wide and inhaled the ck smoke. As it inhaled more and more, the pain in the wound lessened.


    After about five minutes, the serpent, now bloated, closed its mouth. When Rhaegar examined the wound, the ck smoke had diminished considerably. The snake, resembling a fat loach, twisted its body and returned to his hand.


    Rhaegar understood that his mastery of the serpent rune was not yet sufficient to heal the woundpletely in one go. He would have to wait for the snake to digest before attempting another healing session, probably by this time tomorrow.


    "Rhaegar, I''m back. You must be starving," Rhaenyra''s hurried footsteps echoed outside the door as it creaked open.

 Chapter 181: What Happens to Traitors

    Chapter 181: What Happens to Traitors


    Rhaenyra entered the bedroom with arge tray filled with bread, sausages, and melons.


    "Careful, no need to rush," Rhaegar gently reminded her. "How is Runestone?"


    "You''re already injured like this; focus on recuperating," Rhaenyra said, her eyes reflecting a touch of sadness, reluctant to borate further.


    Arnold, the traitor, had colluded with the Mountain ns, infiltrating Runestone through a hidden passage he discovered years ago. He had killed a wine waiter and poisoned the wine.


    All the nobles of the Vale who drank at the banquet were killed, and the hall reeked of poisoned blood. The wedding ceremony had turned into a funeral. There was no greater tragedy than this.


    Rhaegar, noting her demeanor, realized the situation in Runestone was dire. After a moment of silence, he began eating.


    Even the Heir and the Lady of the Eyrie had barely survived an ambush. The defenseless nobles stood no chance.


    After finishing his meal, Rhaegar wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and asked, "I heard someone screaming in agony this morning. Was it a captured member of the Mountain n?"


    "It''s Arnold," Rhaenyra said, lowering her head. She had seen him being tortured when she went to fetch food.The Mountain n members who infiltrated Runestone had been killed on the spot. Arnold had been captured alive by Gerold and was now being tortured.


    Rhaegar''s expression grew somber as he grasped the full extent of the betrayal.


    "Rhaenyra, find a wheelchair and push me out," he requested. He wanted to see Arnold himself and witness his suffering.


    "You''re seriously injured. The Maester said you need to rest for at least half a month," Rhaenyra insisted, her tone firm.


    Rhaegar had been stabbed in the back, leaving a gaping wound. Even though it had been bandaged, there was still a risk of infection and inmmation. In the underdeveloped Westeros, an inmed wound could mean death.


    Ignoring her, Rhaegar supported himself with his right hand and slowly sat up. The serpent rune had healed part of his wound, making it manageable.


    "Rhaegar! You''re so stubborn," Rhaenyra eximed, rushing to support him, letting him lean into her arms.


    "I''m fine; the mes give me strength," Rhaegar reassured her, feeling the soft touch of her back. He smiled confidently.


    Rhaenyra, watching him closely, hesitated and then asked, "Did you... have fire burning on you yesterday?"


    Rhaegar nuzzled her neck andughed. "The Targaryen blood contains magic, and I tapped into it."


    Among the forty Dragonlord families, the Targaryens were id to lower tier. They had few dragons and limited knowledge, offering little help to their descendants. Rhaegar''s generation knew only dragon riding and had never seen magic.


    Aegon the Conqueror may have known something, but he left behind only the Song of Ice and Fire. He didn��t leave any valuable knowledge.


    Rhaenyra, intrigued, gently ran her hand over Rhaegar''s skin. "Can I learn?"


    "Hardly," Rhaegar replied honestly.


    His bloodline purity was only 5% initially. Even if it increased as he grew, it would be around 10% at most. Rhaenyra was 7 when she tamed a dragon, which is good, but her talent should be less than 40%. Bing a Pyromancer is almost impossible.


    Rhaenyra looked down, disappointed. She had hoped she could learn magic too.


    "But," Rhaegar continued, changing his tone, "I found a new kind of magic. Once I''m familiar with it, I can teach you."


    He was referring to runes. Learning and utilizing runes required two things: mental power and magic. The Targaryens had magic in their blood, and mental power depended on personal talent.


    "Really?" Rhaenyra''s eyes lit up with excitement.


    Rhaegar smiled, rubbing his cheek against her neck. "Yes."


    During the old Valyrian period, the Targaryens'' magical inheritance included blood sorcery and pyromancy. This knowledge had been lost or never possessed by the Targaryens. Rune power would be the Targaryens'' greatest reliance after dragons.


    ...


    At noon, Rhaenyra slowly pushed Rhaegar out of the castle, leaning on a wheelchair. The sunlight was bright and blinding, so Rhaegar raised his hand to shield his eyes and looked around.


    In the front yard of the castle, a newly erected three-meter tall cross stood, with a bloodied figure tied to it.


    "Prince!" The yard was crowded, and the bloodstained Gerold was the first to spot Rhaegar.


    Gerold approached quickly, his face showing concern. "Prince, you''re badly injured. This is not helping your recovery."


    Rhaegar dismissed the worry with a wave. "Lord Gerold, is that Arnold?"


    The figure on the cross was a chestnut-haired teenager, covered in whip marks and barely conscious.


    "Yes, Prince," Gerold confirmed, his eyes filled with resentment.


    "Find a healer to keep him alive," Rhaegar said calmly.


    "Why!?" Gerold reacted sharply.


    Rhaegar met his gaze steadily. "Have you heard of the Bolton House?"


    "Arge family in the North, often at war with the Starks," Gerold replied, puzzled.


    "The Boltons have a cruel tradition," Rhaegar continued, his tone dark.


    Gerold pondered this, understanding dawning slowly.


    "Arnold''s crimes are unforgivable. Don''t let him die too quickly," Rhaegarmanded, tapping his fingers on the solid wood armrests of the wheelchair. "y him alive."


    Gerold''s face tightened, momentarily speechless.


    "I''ll give you three days," Rhaegar instructed coldly. "The first day, below the calf. The second day, below the thigh. The third day, below the neck."


    He looked at Arnold''s figure thoughtfully. "Remember to give him milk of the poppy."


    Rhaegar didn''t fully understand his own emotions as he spoke, but the stabbing pain in his belly and shoulder told him Arnold deserved this fate.


    Gerold, visibly gulping, stepped back. He had nned to torture Arnold before hanging him, but he approved of the prince''s more severe proposal. Gerold hurried off to ry the orders to the executioner.


    "Rhaegar, ying is forbidden," Rhaenyra whispered, holding onto the wheelchair. Even the Bolton House had banned ying, and she didn��t want Rhaegar to be known for cruelty.


    "It doesn''t matter." Rhaegar waved her off, indifferent. The rebellion of the Mountain ns and certain Vale ns was irrelevant; he simply wanted Arnold to suffer. Perhaps it would serve as an example, but that was secondary.


    When he faced the Mountain ns alone, Rhaegar did not expect to survive. He only wanted to fight until the Cannibals returned, to at least ensure Rhaenyra''s survival. But as arrows and spears pierced his body, Rhaegar''s will to live grew. He wanted to live and kill those who had wronged him.


    Arnold was the first, but not thest.


    Suddenly, a horn sounded from the city walls, echoing across Runestone. A messenger shouted, "The Knights of the Vale have returned. Shall we open the gates?"

 Chapter 182: Knights of the Vale – Capturing the Rebels

    Chapter 182: Knights of the Vale �C Capturing the Rebels


    The sound of the horn startled all of Runestone.


    Gerold quickly led his men to the walls, while a pale-faced Jeyne emerged from the castle, her spirits high despite her concern.


    "Rhaegar, are you all right?" Jeyne asked, crouching beside the wheelchair with concern in her eyes.


    "I''m fine," Rhaegar replied with a small smile. "My life is too precious for the Old and New Gods to take now."


    Jeyne smiled and rested her head on his hand. "You have a hole in your stomach, but you''re still full of talk."


    Rhaenyra frowned slightly at their exchange but then diverted the conversation. "How''s Jessamyn?"


    Jeyne''s smile faded, reced by worry. "She had a sudden feverst night. The maester said it��s a wound infection."


    "Don''t worry, she''ll pull through," Rhaenyra reassured softly, her face changing to reflect her concern.


    Jeyne forced a smile, clutching Rhaegar''s hand on the armrest. He nced at her and gently withdrew his hand.The family flower is still not ready to be picked, and the wildflower is better left alone.


    Rumble...


    The gates of Runestone opened wide and hundreds of riders poured in. Gerold ordered the dismounted cavalrymen to be entertained while the horses were taken to the stables to be fed. Then he led several young men in armor to the gate.


    "Prince, this is William Royce, my cousin," Gerold introduced, pointing to a young man with short brown hair and a rugged face.


    William knelt on one knee and greeted, "Greetings, Prince."


    "Rise, Ser," Rhaegarmanded, scanning the bloodstained and battle-worn knight.


    William rose, greeted Rhaenyra and Jeyne, and then addressed Jeyne''s anxious question. "Where is Lord Yorbert?"


    "Lord Yorbert is seriously injured and is in Longbow Hall," William replied, exining the details of the battle.


    Thousands of Mountain n members had plundered the Hunter House''s territory at Longbow Hall.


    With thousands of cavalry and 2,000 foot soldiers, Yorbert had initially won the battle easily, driving the Mountain ns back into the mountains over half a month.


    However, on the way back, the army was ambushed. Thousands of Mountain n members, including a Shadowcat and a three-meter-tall giant descendant, attacked.


    Yorbert was nearly killed by the Shadowcat, resulting in heavy losses. Before falling unconscious, Yorbert had ordered William to return to Runestone with the remaining cavalry to protect the wedding party from further attacks.


    As they talked, two figures emerged from the castle��Old Grimm and Joffrey of the Grafton House.


    Rhaegar encouraged, "Joffrey, I heard that you killed two Mountain n members. Good job."


    Joffrey blushed and puffed out his chest. "It��s what I should do��defend the Vale and protect my family."


    Joffrey and Lester''s efforts in killing the infiltrating Mountain n members had been crucial. Without them, the gates of Runestone might have been secretly opened, and they wouldn��t have held out until the Cannibal returned to help.


    Old Grimm''s face was stern. "Prince, my family''s reinforcements will arrive soon, but I think the Mountain ns won��t dare toe back. It��s more important to investigate the Vale thoroughly."


    Colluding with the Mountain ns, leading attacks on Longbow Hall and Runestone, and orchestrating the tragic ck Wedding��Arnold couldn''t have done it alone. Someone must be supporting him from the shadows, looking to profit from the chaos.


    Rhaegar smiled and said, "Lord Grimm, your insight is invaluable."


    "I suggest we escort Lady Jeyne back to the Eyrie first and then mobilize the army," Old Grimm suggested sincerely. The Runestone had just been attacked and wasn''t safe. As Lady of the Eyrie, Jeyne should sit on her own turf and use her power to n.


    Jeyne remained silent and looked at Rhaegar. With Yorbert gravely wounded and her loyal bannermen decimated, she trusted her cousin more than ever.


    Rhaegar''s mind was already made up. "No need! My dragons are on standby until we leave the Vale." Having suffered once, Cannibal would not stray far from him.


    Turning to Gerold, Rhaegar asked, "Lord Gerold, who were the nobles who were supposed to attend the wedding but didn''t?"


    Loyal nobles had perished at the ck Wedding, so the traitors must be among those absent.


    Gerold pondered. "House Shett of Gulltown and House Tollett of Grey Glen."


    Jeyne added, "Gulltown��s branch of House Arryn."


    Old Grimm''s eyes gleamed. "Gunthor Royce from Runestone didn��te either!"


    The Royce House had many branches, and Gunthor, a second-generation cousin of Albert, was known for his love of banquets and tournaments, but he hadn''t attended the ck Wedding.


    "Very well, the rebels are clear," Rhaegar said, smiling. He turned to Joffrey. "Joffrey, I have a mission for you. Do you ept?"


    "Always ready," Joffrey replied, though his eyes showed nervousness.


    Rhaegar addressed William. "Organize your cavalry and take Joffrey to Gulltown."


    William agreed without hesitation.


    Rhaegar then instructed Old Grimm, "Write a letter of request for help, give it to your grandson. Have him lure Shett House and the influential members of the Arryn House branch to Runestone."


    Old Grimm��s face tightened. This mission was dangerous; revealing their intentions might provoke the other families to attack.


    "Gulltown was originally Shett territory, wasn��t it?" Rhaegar reminded.


    Old Grimm weighed the pros and cons. "Joffrey willplete the mission, Your Grace." He understood Rhaegar''s implication: the Shett House was finished. House Grafton would administer Gulltown long-term.


    "Lord Gerold, you have a mission too," Rhaegar continued. "Bring in the traitors and conspirators from House Royce. Rhaenyra will use the dragons to force them out."


    Rhaegar couldn''t act himself, but Syrax would ensure the traitors were flushed out. Beyond the initial targets, other nobles and knights involved in the rebellion would be dealt with, leaving the rest to Jeyne.


    "Yes, Prince!" Gerold was encouraged by the promise of dragon''s support.


    A sharp cry from above drew their attention. A white falcon flew over Runestone, and Rhaegar raised his hand, snapping his fingers and whistling. The falcon flew in,nding on his arm without fear.


    Its pupils were white��Tormund''s message. Rhaegar retrieved a slip of paper from its talons and read it.


    "The Mountain ns gathering ce..."


    The letter contained a detailed map of a certain vale in the Mountains of the Moon where the remaining Mountain ns were gathered.

 Chapter 183: Bronze Rune – King’s Landing Changes

    Chapter 183: Bronze Rune �C King��s Landing Changes


    Rhaegar chuckled, shaking his head as he read the note. "Hehe, it''s as if a pillow fell right into myp."


    He handed the note to Jeyne and the others. Tormund and Erryk had identally discovered the Mountain ns'' gathering ce on their way to meet them. They had already positioned their troops nearby, awaiting Rhaegar''s instructions.


    Jeyne, excited by the news, said, "Rhaegar, if this letter is urate, we can mobilize our forces and ambush the Mountain ns."


    The rebellion involved many tribes. Now that they knew where they were meeting, they could take them by surprise and wipe them out.


    However, Old Grimm shook his head. "Prince, the marked ce is in the mountains. Our current troops are limited, and fighting in the mountains and forests favors the mountain ns."


    "My suggestion is to deal with the traitors first, and then deal with the mountain ns."


    In his opinion, resolving the Shett House was the top priority. Besides, Runestonecked enough troops, and with an unstable rear, victory would be difficult.


    "Everyone, the traitors must be apprehended and the Mountain ns must be wiped out," Rhaegar said firmly. "Bring the traitors to me within three days. After that, I will personally lead the Dragon to defeat the Mountain ns."


    Three days would be enough time for him to recover from his wounds."Rhaegar, your injuries..." Jeyne began, worried.


    "Enough," Rhaegar interrupted, waving his hand. "The decision is made. Carry out your missions, and in three days, we will besiege the Mountain ns."


    He had spent enough time in the Vale. The Mountain ns and the rebels would meet their end.


    The group exchanged nces, and even Lady Jeyne, hesitant to defy Rhaegar''smand, nodded in agreement.


    "Very well, take me back, Rhaenyra," Rhaegar said, not wanting to waste time. He still needed to write back to Erryk.


    Rhaenyra, surprise evident in her eyes, pushed him back toward the castle. As Rhaegar disappeared from view, he had unknowingly be the center of power, and his words were thew.


    ...


    Nightfall


    Rhaegary in his bedroom, a faint green light flickering on his chest. The light traced a pattern, forming a strange rune.


    Buzz-


    As the runepleted, the green light coalesced into a ball, manipted by an unseen force. Gradually, it formed a diamond-shaped dragon scale, about the size of a baby''s fist. The scale hovered three inches above Rhaegar''s chest.


    With a thought, Rhaegar guided the scale to his heart, where it merged with his skin. The light faded, leaving behind an intricate green dragon scale pattern, like an elegant tattoo.


    "Whew~~ the first bronze rune is finallyplete," Rhaegar sighed in relief, raising a hand to touch the scale pattern on his chest.


    He had meticulously carved the bronze rune, adjusting it to the shape of a dragon''s scale and embedding it in his skin. Testing its effectiveness, he drew a dagger and shed at the scale.


    Buzz-


    The green scale appeared, blocking the de and preventing any damage to his flesh. Rhaegar''s face lit up with joy.


    "An excellent means of preserving one''s life!" he eximed.


    For now, there was only one bronze rune protecting his heart. But as he engraved more runes, they would eventually form aplete set of runic armor. Onceplete, ordinary swords and knives would be powerless against him.


    "Time to continue engraving," Rhaegar said with determination, stifling a yawn.


    Creating bronze runes was more time-consuming and mentally taxing than he had expected. While the serpent rune was physically draining, the bronze runes were sapping his mental strength. In his current state, engraving three runes a day would significantly deplete his energy reserves.


    ...


    King''s Landing


    Recent events had set off a flurry of rumors throughout the city.


    The former Hand of the King, Otto Hightower, had returned to King''s Landing and rejoined the Small Council as Master of Civil Affairs.


    Apanying him was High Septon Madoc of the Church of the Seven, both of whom were weed by the King and Queen.


    One of Otto''s first initiatives was to help the orphanages and impoverished residents of King''s Landing. High Septon Madoc provided manpower and led his congregation in distributing food and tending to the sick and wounded.


    The city''s poor expressed their gratitude for the Master of Civil Affairs generosity and praised the Church of the Seven.


    Flea Bottom


    A group of figures in ck robes moved stealthily through the streets and alleys, using the cover of night. Two figures approached the entrance of a brightly lit brothel, hiding in the shadows.


    "Are you sure about this, girl?" asked one of the ck-robed figures, removing his hood to reveal brown curls and a confident smile.


    The other figure lifted her hood, revealing the delicate face of a foreign young girl.


    "I have a name, Sara," she responded calmly.


    "It doesn''t matter; <i>Vr morghulis (all men must die)</i>," Syrio replied with a chuckle, his eyes fixed on the girl.


    Sara remained expressionless. "I no longer belong in that hellhole."


    "That''s right, you''re in Westeros now, serving a heir," Syrio said, raising an eyebrow with a hint of regret.


    "I am a failure. Please don''t mention it again," Sara said coldly as she pulled her hood back up and headed toward the brothel''s back door. "V<i>r dohaeris (all men must serve)<b>.</b></i>"


    Syrio watched her go, whispering, "A girl with talent."


    Momentster, screams echoed from inside the brothel. Sara emerged from another corner, wiping a bloodstained dagger on her ck robe. "Let''s go. I cut the throat of that fat pig who abused the young."


    "Very good," Syrio said with satisfaction, pulling his hood back on.


    The two disappeared into a narrow alley, their presence vanishing into the darkness. By the next day, news of the High Septon''s assassination in a brothel would spread throughout King''s Landing. More shockingly, the assants were revealed to be two children under ten��a boy and a girl.


    ...


    Three dayster.


    Runestone Castle, Vale.


    A cross stood in the castle''s front yard, lined with naked men and women. Their faces were ashen, and their previously pampered lives were evident from their oily hair and pale flesh.


    Joffrey, now sporting a new scar on his face, stood in the courtyard, naming the captives.


    "Ser Uther Shett,Lord Shett and his son John Shett from House Shett of Gulltown. Ser Avery Tollett from House Tollett of the Grey Glen. Ser Gunthor Royce..."


    Behind Joffrey stood Gerold, Jeyne, and Old Grimm. It was a gathering to punish the rebels.


    p, p...


    A burst of apuse sounded as the castle door opened, revealing a tall figure. Rhaegar, his long hair tied back and d in ck armor, emerged.


    With a slight smirk, he announced loudly, "My lords, thank you for waiting!"


    Rhaegar looked much better than he had three days ago, though he remained pale with dark circles under his eyes.


    "Roar!"


    A dragon''s roar echoed from the sky as a ck dragon circled above Runestone, spewing ghostly green Dragonfire. It sensed its master''s emotions and dered its presence in advance.

 Chapter 184: Dragons Burning Everything

    Chapter 184: Dragons Burning Everything


    Striding before the gathered crowd, Rhaegar nced at the rebels bound to the crosses. They were still alive, only suspended in their torment.


    Some wept and begged for mercy, while an elderly man with ck and white hair cursed.


    St...


    A long whip struck the cursing man, leaving a bloody scar on his flesh.


    "Lord Gerold, are you ready?" Rhaegar asked, his face impassive, ignoring the miserable cries of the traitors. These rebels were kept alive for a public execution, to serve as a warning after the Mountain ns had been dealt with.


    "Prince, the soldiers will be ready to leave at dawn," Gerold replied respectfully, lowering his whip.


    Rhaegar scanned the area, noting the absence of William Royce, whomanded the current force. "Guard the gate well; I''ll be back soon," Rhaegar ordered, his tone serious as he walked out of the Runestone alone.


    Roar...


    Cannibalnded and crept outside the city gates, waiting. The gates opened and Rhaegar walked through with calm determination. In the distancey the golden form of Syrax, with Rhaenyra, dressed in her dragon rider''s armor, perched on her saddle.Rhaegar mounted Cannibal, and he and Rhaenyra exchanged knowing smiles.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal spread its wings and took off, heading straight for the Mountains of the Moon. Syrax followed closely behind, roaring with excitement.


    In the past two days, Syrax had burned down two small castles, and now there was an air of eager anticipation for the next bout of Dragonfire.


    ...


    South of the Mountains of the Moon, in a secluded vale, thousands of Mountain ns tribe members had gathered and set up camp. Inside arge animal skin tent, a group of men adorned with bone jewelry argued heatedly.


    "Two fire-breathing monsters incinerated our tribe''s best warriors��over a thousand men!" one shouted.


    "My tribe barely escaped. If I hadn''t run so fast, I''d be ashes by now," another retorted.


    "This so-called alliance is worthless. Those nobles are dead, but we lost almost our entire army!"


    The arguments intensified. More than a dozen mountain ns had united, annexing smaller tribes and amassing tens of thousands of warriors.


    Yet their attempt to capture Runestone had nearly led to their destruction. The fragile alliance was on the verge of copse.


    Outside the camp, Erryk and his men hid in the woods. Tormundy in a clearing, his eyes zed white as he surveyed the camp through the eyes of a white hawk.


    "Ser, two groups of reinforcements have arrived," Tormund reported, his pupils returning to normal. He had seen the emblems of the arriving ns: a yellow burning tower and an orange base covered with gravel. They moved quickly toward the camp.


    A gust of wind blew through the forest, casting shadows over their hiding ce. Looking up, they saw a ck dragon hovering above, surveying the camp below.


    "Cannibal, Dracarys!" Rhaegarmanded, his voice unwavering. Without hesitation, the Cannibal dove low, green Dragonfire umting in its maw before erupting onto the camp.


    Boom...


    The dragonfire obliterated the arrow towers at the camp''s entrance and spread through the screaming masses.


    "Monsters! Fire-breathing monsters are attacking us!"


    "Run!"


    Panic gripped the Mountain ns as they scattered in fear. Rhaegar, his expression cold as ice,manded, "Cannibal, leave no one behind!"


    The Cannibal roared, his dragonfire consuming tents and warriors alike as he glided back and forth across the camp.


    "Roar..."


    Syrax arrived, blocking the escape routes of the Mountain ns. Rhaenyra, perched atop Syrax, her hair tied back and hands gripping the saddle, shouted, "Dracarys!"


    In response to her High Valyrianmand, Syrax roared and unleashed golden Dragonfire, sweeping over the fleeing ns.


    Green and gold Dragonfire turned the mountainside into a tableau of blood and me.


    "Counterattack! Counterattack!" some tribal chiefs shouted, trying to rally their archers. But the dragons flew too high, their scales impervious to the arrows that fell short.


    "Where is the witch? Bring her out!" a chief demanded, gripping the leader of the Stone Crow tribe in desperation. The witch, known for her fire magic, had united the ns with her prophecies.


    Nearby, a woman in a red robe and ruby ne, her beautiful face contorted with fear, hid by a campfire. Trembling, she watched the dragons above, urine running down her thighs. She had preached about the Lord of Light and swayed the chiefs with her pyromancy, but now, in the face of real dragons, her magic seemed weak.


    "Lord of Light, please give me the strength to withstand the dragonfire," she prayed desperately, kneeling in the dirt, oblivious to her filthy condition.


    Boom��


    A surge of dragonfire swept through the camp, engulfing the red-robed sorceress. She screamed in agony, clinging to life as the intense heat seared her skin. Her ruby ne glowed, shielding her for a moment before the mes moved on. Stripped of her robes, she copsed naked and trembling in the mud.


    The scene caught Rhaegar''s attention. Rising from his saddle, he looked down in astonishment at the unharmed figure below. The naked woman had survived Cannibal''s dragonfire - something he''d only seen once before.


    "Is this witchcraft?" Rhaegar muttered, remembering the me Witch Erryk had mentioned in his letter.


    "Kill! Destroy the Mountain ns!" hemanded, refocusing on the battle. Armored soldiers rushed into the chaotic camp, sealing the exits and ughtering the panicked nsmen. Rhaegar resumed his bombardment with Cannibal, intent on destroying the Mountain ns for at least a century.


    Whoosh!


    A sharp arrow pierced the sky, hitting Cannibal''s ebony scales with a crunch before splintering apart. Rhaegar nced down and saw a towering figure - a fourteen-foot half-giant with a stern face.


    "Another giant descendant," Rhaegar remarked, intrigued by the sight. Giants had once ruled Westeros, driven to near extinction by the First Men. To see a half-giant here, almost as tall as a full-blooded giant, was unexpected.


    "Rhaegar, are you alright?" Rhaenyra''s voice called out as she descended on Syrax.


    "No! Don''t burn him, Rhaenyra!" Rhaegar urgently stopped her. The half-giant intrigued him; he envisioned taming it and bringing it back to King''s Landing as a formidable guard. What could be more impressive than a half-giant guard?


    "Hmph, bad taste," Rhaenyra huffed, rolling her eyes before guiding Syrax away.

 Chapter 185: Red Witch – Shadowcat

    Chapter 185: Red Witch �C Shadowcat


    The battle continued into the evening, a one-sided massacre lit by the mes of two dragons. The entire camp was transformed into a sea of fire, filled with the screams and acrid smell of burning flesh.


    Thousands of Mountain ns tribe members perished, save for a few lucky souls who managed to escape.


    "Cannibal,nd!" Rhaegarmanded, guiding his dragon to the only remaining clearing, surrounded by mes and charred bodies.


    "Rhaegar, we''ve captured the giant''s descendant. What are you doing down there?" Rhaenyra''s voice rang out. Syraxnded a few dozen meters away, its feet on a burning tent, eyes agitated as it stared at Cannibal.


    Cannibal shifted and slumped to the ground with a contemptuous snort. Syrax, an inexperienced female dragon, was far too excited by the minor victory.


    "Do not dismount!" Rhaegar shouted back, moving forward with one hand on Cannibal''s body. He was searching for the naked woman who had survived the Dragonfire.


    After bing a Pyromancer, he had not yet mastered any magic or fire sorcery. Bathing in fire had given him immense power, but it was too exhausting and single-minded. He needed something more versatile.


    Rhaenyra obeyed, remaining on Syrax''s back, her eyes fixed on Rhaegar. The true power of a dragon rider was in the dragon itself; going down wouldpromise her safety.


    Rhaegar scanned the burning ruins until he heard the faint murmur of a woman. Pulling aside a charred log, he stepped into the hot wreckage. There, crouched in a corner, was a naked woman with snow-white skin and a delicate figure. Her long ck hair partially obscured her face, but Rhaegar could hear her praying to some god."What is your name?" he asked coldly, slowly approaching her.


    The woman shivered, lifting her head timidly. Her sultry cheeks and captivating eyes drew him in as she softly spoke, "Myrce."


    Her voice was so enchanting, it felt like an invitation. Rhaegar''s gaze drifted to her chest, and for a moment, he was mesmerized.


    Noticing his interest, Myrce''s eyes sparkled as she proudly lifted her breasts. "My lord, do you want to do it?" she asked seductively.


    "No," Rhaegar replied coldly. "Are you a me Witch?"


    "Yes, my lord," Myrce said, standing up and boldly walking towards him. "Bless the great Lord of Light, for guiding you to me."


    ng��


    Rhaegar pressed Dragon w against her delicate neck, stopping her in her tracks. "You should be grateful that my sword is quick enough to sever your hand before it touches me," he taunted.


    Even Rhaenyra, his dragon-riding partner, had never dared to approach him so boldly. This woman, who had likely lived a filthy life, dared to think she could touch him?


    "Fool!" Myrce''s demeanor shifted as she quickly retreated, falling to the ground.


    "Roar!" A ck shadow darted around a corner, aiming for Rhaegar''s neck. He caught the attack out of the corner of his eye and didn''t flinch.


    Buzz...


    Ayer of green scales covered his neck, deflecting the attack. Rhaegar turned to see arge ck cat, the size of a leopard, its eyes blue and green. Baring its teeth, it tried to grasp his scales with its ws.


    Pfft...


    With a swift swing of Dragon w, Rhaegar decapitated the Shadowcat, its head rolling to the ground. Blood sttered across his face, frowning in disgust, he wiped it away with his sleeve.


    Rhaegar nced at the naked woman and spoke coldly, "You will suffer the same fate as this creature if you do not give me all your magic and spells." He gestured to the corpse of the Shadowcat.


    This was no ordinary big cat, leopard, or tiger. The Shadowcat, native to the Mountains of the Moon, was a fierce predator. Much like a leopard, an adult Shadowcat could hunt down and killrge wild animals.


    Cruel by nature, it preferred to strike in the dark. Rhaegar had heard rumors that these beasts were bred by witches among the Mountain ns.


    "I''m sorry," the woman stammered, almost paralyzed with fear as she looked at the dead Shadowcat. "I''m a follower of the Lord of Light, and I know nothing of witchcraft."


    She really didn''t know any magic. If she had, she would have infiltrated noble circles long ago to deceive the lords with her supposed powers.


    "Alright, I believe you," Rhaegar sighed, admiring the woman''s submissive posture as he slowly approached.


    She quickly stopped crawling, spreading her legs and forcing a smile, trying to appear cooperative.


    A sh of cold steel.


    A section of her head and hair flew off, and a fountain of blood erupted. Rhaegar shielded himself from the blood with his hand and removed the ruby ne from her headless body.


    Looking down at her severed head, which still held a grotesque smile, Rhaegar murmured, "So confident, yet so fragile."


    With a sense of finality, he kicked aside the corpse and walked out of the ruins, the ruby ne clutched in his hand.


    ...


    Nightfall


    Runestone held a grand banquet to honor the victorious warriors. The rebels, now stripped and hanged from the castle walls, served as a grim reminder of their fate.


    Inside the castle, the celebrations were subdued, the shadow of the ck Wedding still looming over the guests. Many noblewomen and theirdies remained upstairs with Jeyne, grateful to be safe but mourning the fathers and brothers who would never return.


    Rhaegar sat at the head of the table in the first-floor hall, with only a few guests joining him. Old Grimm stood, raised his ss, and said solemnly, "Thank you, Prince, for bringing victory to the Vale and avenging the dead."


    "To the brave and noble Rhaegar Targaryen," echoed through the hall as nobles, knights, and soldiers raised their sses and chanted his name.


    Rhaegar rose slowly and said, "To all of you!"


    "To the prince," the hall responded in unison, drinking deeply from their cups. The wine had been carefully tested by servants to ensure its safety - a precaution that would likely be standard throughout the Vale.


    Taking a sip, Rhaegar sat down and addressed Old Grimm, "Lord Grimm, I will return to King''s Landing tomorrow. Please mobilize your fleet as soon as possible."


    "Your gift to House Grafton will not be forgotten," Old Grimm replied warmly, showing the utmost respect. With the elimination of rival noble branches in Gulltown, his house''s power was poised for unprecedented growth, making them crucial allies in supporting the Stepstones.


    Rhaegar raised his ss in gratitude and fell silent. The ck Wedding had decimated half the Vale''s nobility, and the recent rebellion had imed even more lives. As the nobledies returned to their families with the grim news, a significant redistribution of power within the Vale was inevitable.


    "Rhaegar, your wounds are not yet healed. It''s time to rest," Rhaenyra advised gently as she descended the stairs from the second floor.


    Rhaegar smiled and replied, "Okay, I''ll go back now."


    His injuries had long since healed, thanks to the serpent rune. The bannermen were unaware that his bandages were only for show. Rhaenyra''s arrival to call him away was a prearranged signal. He had no intention of staying at the banquet all night.

 Chapter 186: Alicent and Daemon

    Chapter 186: Alicent and Daemon


    Leaving behind the remaining bannermen, Rhaegar allowed Rhaenyra to lead him back to their bedroom.


    As soon as they entered, Rhaenyra eagerly began, "Jeyne is rallying the noblewomen, promising two of them control over their families."


    Rhaegar reclined on the bed, his reaction calm. "That was expected."


    "Did Jeyne discuss this with you?" Rhaenyra scrutinized him, her gaze suspicious.


    "Jeyne is smarter than you think," Rhaegar replied with a smirk. "The Arryn branch in Gulltown is failing apart, and Arnold is finished."


    He continued, "Next she''ll return to the Eyrie to rally other Arryn branches andfort the victimized ns, thus securing a group of loyal followers."


    The ck Wedding had indeed decimated many nobles, especially those who had either defied or ignored Jeyne''s orders. With the traitors eliminated, the Vale''s power structure was more malleable than ever. Lady Jeyne seized the opportunity to create a unified regime.


    Though the nobles'' leaders and heirs had perished, their knights and soldiers remained intact, ensuring that the Vale''s overall strength would not be significantly diminished. With royal backing, Jeyne could emerge as the greatest beneficiary of the rebellion, if she can withstand the pressure.


    Rhaenyra, shocked by this revtion, covered her mouth. "Are you suggesting that Jeyne might...?""Shh!" Rhaegar whispered, "Do not specte. She faced danger with us."


    In his opinion, Arnold''s rebellion probably had Jeyne''s subtle influence, but the severe consequences - the grave injury to Yorbert and the ck Wedding - were too high a price to pay. It was likely that Jeyne had underestimated the ruthlessness of Arnold and the Mountain ns.


    ...


    In another bedroom, Jessamyny on the bed, her face pale and still in aa.


    The door opened softly, and Jeyne walked in with gentle steps. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her friend''s face and wiping the sweat from her brow with a handkerchief.


    "Jessamyn, you must be strong and wake up," Jeyne whispered, lowering her eyes and taking one of Jessamyn''s hands. "Yorbert is getting old, and I need you to help me carry the weight of this responsibility."


    Jeyne had sessfully gathered most of the noblewomen that evening. Gerold and the old Grimm had also pledged their loyalty to her. Soon she would secure her position as Lady of the Eyrie for a long time toe.


    ...


    King''s Landing


    News of the assassination of the High Septon of the Faith of the Seven spread quickly throughout the city. Rumors were rampant, iming that the High Septon had been molesting children in a brothel before his death.


    It wasn''t just the High Septon; over a dozen other high-ranking priests were found murdered in brothels, their throats slit and their genitals mutted and stuffed into their mouths.


    Within three days, the scandal had caused an uproar throughout the kingdom. The new Master of Civil Affairs, Otto Hightower, also came under scrutiny.


    Investigations revealed that Otto had used treasury funds for charitable donations, dividing the money between buying food for the poor and donating it to the Faith of the Seven. Whether these rumors were true or not, Otto''s reputation among themoners was in tatters.


    In the Red Keep, Alicent and Otto Hightower dined together in tense silence. Otto ate his steak calmly, seemingly unconcerned by the gossip swirling around him.


    "Father, someone is trying to nder you. You''ll be held ountable," Alicent said, frowning and barely touching her food.


    "Don''t worry," Otto replied, putting down his knife and fork and taking a sip of red wine. "I didn''t take a single coin from the treasury. Lord Lyman can vouch for that."


    While it was true that Otto had financial dealings with the High Septon, but the money came from the Hightower House, and not from the royal treasury. Back at the center of power, Otto was careful not to leave any loopholes for his enemies to exploit.


    "But your associate was killed in a brothel, and there are scandals everywhere," Alicent said irritably. Even in the depths of the Red Keep, she had heard the sordid rumors about the High Septon.


    "You are mistaken," Otto corrected. "We wererades in King''s Landing, not partners or allies." Heughed and shook his head. "Frankly, I didn''t expect Madoc to be so foolish, but it doesn''t matter now."


    As the Master of Civil Affairs, Otto''s primary task was to oversee King''s Landing''s street sanitation program. Helping the poor had merely been a tactic to gain favor with the popce. Now, he needed to gauge the true state of affairs in King''s Landing.


    "A group of assassins killed the High Septon and spread these scandals as a warning," Otto mused. "They''re telling me not to overstep my bounds, or I''ll meet the same fate."


    Despite the dire situation, Otto was somewhat relieved. Madoc''s death meant he could continue his work without the hindrance of a scandal-ridden partner.


    "There is a bit of trouble," Otto murmured, contemting theplexities of King''s Landing''s undergroundworks. "My old informants are too weak now. I need to build a new web of spies to understand what''s truly happening in this city."


    Otto resolved to reestablish hiswork and regain control, ensuring that he stayed informed and ahead of any threats.


    Alicent lifted her head, gazing at her father with suspicion.


    Otto leaned back in his chair and said gently, "You know who has aprehensive intelligencework at their disposal."


    "But..." Alicent began to protest, but Otto waved a hand to silence her. "Acquiring thatwork is crucial. We need more allies."


    Without giving her a chance to refuse, Otto stood up and left the room.


    Alicent watched her father''s retreating back, her eyes filled with dissatisfaction. She clenched her fists tightly. After a moment, she mmed her hand on the table, straightened her dress, and stood up.


    When she opened the door, a Kingsguard stood there, bearing an uncanny resemnce to Erryk.


    Alicent adjusted her posture and took a deep breath. "Ser Arryk, apany me to the dungeon."


    "Yes, Your Grace," Arryk replied, following her without hesitation.


    They soon reached the dungeon of the Red Keep. As Alicent entered, the prisoners leered and shouted vulgarities.


    Arryk grabbed one of the prisoners by the hair and smashed his head against the iron bars until he fell unconscious.


    Alicent looked away and whispered, "Thank you, Ser."


    "That''s my duty," Arryk replied, gripping the hilt of his sword as a warning to the other prisoners, who quickly retreated into the shadows.


    "Ser, you can wait here," Alicent instructed as she moved deeper into the dungeon.


    Arryk nodded and stood guard as Alicent moved on alone.


    She stopped at a cell and peered through the iron bars at the inmate.


    "Daemon, I know you can hear me," she said, addressing the white-haired man sitting on the edge of the bed.

 Chapter 187: First Battle of the Stepstones Islands

    Chapter 187: First Battle of the Stepstones Inds


    "Daemon, don''t y dumb," Alicent scolded impatiently after a long silence.


    "Ugh, can''t a man get some rest in his cell?" Daemon''s maic voice finally replied as he slowly lifted his head.


    Even in the dungeon, Daemon''s handsome face and royal demeanor remained intact, though his long, messy hair and slightly crooked nose - thanks to a mediocre job by the maester - marred his appearance.


    He scanned Alicent up and down, teasing, "A private meeting with a prisoner at night? The Queen is quite bold."


    "Shut your mouth, unless you want filth in your meals from now on," Alicent snapped, her face contorted with anger.


    "Fine, you rule my brother''s court, you win," Daemon shrugged, dropping his mocking tone. He knew Alicent well - her threats were usually empty. After a moment''s pause, he asked casually, "What do you want from me?"


    "Do you want to go out?" Alicent sped her hands together, her eyes fixed on him.


    "What?" Daemon frowned, suspicion flickering in his eyes.


    "There is an unknown force in King''s Landing," Alicent said bluntly. "I need your men. I''ll release you in exchange.""Are you offering to seduce my brother and help me escape?" Daemon chuckled.


    "Does it matter? Getting out is enough," Alicent replied.


    "No! I''m not as stupid as you think," Daemon scoffed. "Alicent, you haven''t changed. Your intentions are still written all over your face."


    Struggling to maintain herposure, Alicent continued, "Don''t you want to get out? I doubt you''d choose this dungeon over your wife and daughter."


    "Whether I go out or not is none of your concern," Daemon replied indifferently. "Your husband, my brother, degrades me every day, yet here you are."


    Alicent was momentarily stunned, shifting ufortably. Daemon approached the iron bars, smiling faintly. "My brother''s favorite child rides the Dragon to gather allies, and my brother, exhausted both physically and mentally, takes it out by cursing me."


    "I didn''t know you had such a fetish," Alicent scoffed.


    "Mock all you want. You''re not a Targaryen; you''ll never understand our bond," Daemon said seriously. "My brother should have beheaded me the day I was arrested, but he didn��t. He still loves me, and my nephews and nieces know it. That��s why no one forced him to execute me."


    "And is that why you n to continue rotting in this dungeon?" Alicent challenged.


    Alicent, uninterested in hearing more about Daemon''s so-called brotherhood, interrupted him sharply. "You''re pathetic. You only see what you want to see. No wonder you''re being manipted."


    Daemon''s voice remained calm. "My brotheres down here every few days to scold me. I know what he means."


    "He wants me to admit my mistakes, make amends, be forgiven."


    Daemon had plenty of opportunities to escape. On the ship to King''s Landing, Laena had asked him what he wanted. But Daemon didn''t want to return to exile.


    He was a pure Targaryen prince, a descendant of Baelon Targaryen The Brave. He gambled on his brother Viserys''s reluctance to kill him.


    His grudge against his nephew had almost settled after a rainy night seven years ago. He had deliberately shown his face on Driftmark to gauge his nephew''s attitude, but he hadn''t expected to be beaten and left in a sorry state. Even Caraxes had been nearly torn to pieces. Still, his nephew left the decision to his father.


    Alicent''s face grew increasingly grim. "Trying to walk out of your cell with honor, after trying to murder the Heir, is a pure fantasy."


    "The Heir''s heart is much broader than yours," Daemon countered, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "No, yours isn''t small either. One hand can''t grasp it."


    "How dare you! I am the Queen!" Alicent exploded, her anger palpable.


    Daemon remained unfazed, replying sarcastically, "You haven''t grown up at all. I remember what you said at first..."


    "Stop. I am your niece''s best friend," Daemon said, unable to hide his mockery.


    "Daemon! You are an animal!" Alicent spat in anger. "You won''t even let Rhaenyra go."


    "Watch your wording. I didn''t defile Rhaenyra," Daemon frowned. "I tried, but I almost got my dick kicked off."


    The pain still lingered, a reminder of that encounter.


    "You''re still a tyrant and a brute!" Alicent cursed.


    "Whatever you say, I don''t care." Daemon resumed his nonchnt attitude and turned back to his bed. He had to get back to his family and didn''t want to get involved with Alicent. Theirst coboration had ended badly.


    Alicent''s face was like frost, her chest heaving with anger. She hade to recruit him, but had only been mocked and humiliated.


    "Daemon, you can rot in your cell!"


    With onest angry scream, Alicent stormed out, unwilling to spend another moment in the stinking dungeon.


    Daemon snorted, dismissing her as a foolish woman.


    ...


    Meanwhile, on Bloodstone Ind, a dim light flickered under the dark night sky from a cluster of bonfires. Soldiers were busy dragging stones and wood to build a watchtower.


    Oooooooo~~


    A horn sounded, causing the soldiers to stop what they were doing and quickly put on their armor. More than a dozen three-masted sailing ships appeared on the horizon, each teeming with Triarchy pirates brandishing their des.


    As the horn continued to sound, a warship bearing a seahorse g sailed forth to confront the pirate ships.


    "All hands on deck, draw your bows!" Themanding voice of the Sea Snake echoed, rallying his soldiers. They swiftly readied their longbows, aiming at the approaching pirates.


    "Lower the ramming horns and move forward at full speed!" The piratemander ordered, their savage nature clear.


    "Release the fire arrows!" The Sea Snakemanded as the two fleets drew closer. Soldiers shot ming arrows, raining them down upon the pirate ships.


    Under this fiery assault, the pirates of the Triarchy suffered heavy casualties, their screams of pain piercing the night. Yet, theirmander remained unharmed, urging them forward.


    Boom!


    The ships collided with a resounding crash, their ramming horns splintering each other''s bows.


    "Kill! Take back the Stepstones!" The pirate leader shouted. The Triarchy pirates hurled chains,tched onto the enemy ships, and swarmed aboard.


    "Man, kill them all!" A Sea Snake in silver armor roared, leaping into the fray and decapitating a pirate with a single stroke of his sword.


    The battle was fierce and chaotic.


    "Roar...!" A dragon''s cry resounded through the night as a light silver-gray dragon soared above Bloodstone Ind.


    "Dracarys!" Laenor, riding the dragon Seasmoke,manded from above.


    "Roar!" Seasmoke responded, swooping down with agility and unleashing torrents of orange dragonfire. The pirate ships erupted in mes, and the pirates, caught in the inferno, screamed in terror as they leapt into the sea to escape the mes.

 Chapter 188: Tyland and the Sea Snake’s Charge

    Chapter 188: Tnd and the Sea Snake��s Charge


    At dawn the next day, the aftermath of the previous night''s battle on Bloodstone Ind was grim. Wrecked ships and debris floated on the sea, smoke lingering in the air. Corpses littered the beach, their blood staining the sand and attracting fish and shrimp to feast on the remains.


    "Ah!..." A scream echoed through the area as the sound of hammering nails filled the air. Rows of wooden posts had been erected along the beach, each bearing a captured pirate of the Triarchy, left to the mercy of the tides and sea creatures.


    "Roar..." The light silver-gray dragon Seasmoke appeared on the horizon, soared, and thennded gracefully on the ind.


    "Father, the remaining pirates have escaped to Gray Gallows Ind," Laenor reported, dismounting from Seasmoke and approaching the blood-soaked Sea Snake.


    After a night of relentless fighting, the Sea Snake, visibly exhausted, responded with a numb voice, "Send the fleet on patrol. Don''t act rashly."


    The pirates of the Triarchy were experts in guerri warfare, constantly harassing the kingdom��s forces to prevent them from establishing firm defenses. This had been their sixth night attack in recent times.


    "Father, the fleet from White Harbor will arrive tomorrow. We��ll soon be out of this mess." Laenor handed over a note, a hint of excitement in his voice. He had longed for a significant battle to prove his worth and bring honor to his house, hoping to silence the rumors about his despised sexual orientation.


    The Sea Snake took the note, his stern expression softening slightly. At that moment, Tnd Lannister arrived with a guard, his face urgent.


    "Lord Corlys, I must speak with you about the problem of attrition," Tnd said quickly. As the Adviser of Maritime Affairs, he was responsible for the logistics and supplies of the Stepstones campaign.The Sea Snake squinted at Tnd, replying dismissively, "Lord Tnd, war is all about money and supplies. There''s not much to discuss."


    ]Tnd persisted, pointing to the wreckage in the sea, "The fortifications were destroyed against night, and the casualties are mounting. Building forts in the face of constant harassment will only increase the kingdom''s financial burden. We should eliminate the pirates first and then build the walls."


    The Sea Snake''s sole focus on navalmand often shed with Tnd, who had to manage both the logistics and the progress of the defensive fortifications. Seeing resources rapidly depleted for minimal progress was uneptable to him.


    "Lord Tnd, do not be upset. We are not the only ones suffering," Laenor interjected diplomatically. "The pirates of the Triarchy have also suffered heavy losses, losing nearly ten warships. We have the advantage."


    Tnd shook his head. "The Triarchy has three wealthy trading city-states behind them. They can easily rece warships and hire mercenaries. Our resources are limited."


    As a Lannister, Tnd''s innate financial acumen made him acutely aware of the economic disparities. The Triarchy''s control of the Stepstones meant they could levy high taxes and intercept ships, further enriching themselves.


    "Enough, Lord Tnd," the Sea Snake interrupted impatiently. "There is no fairness in war. We must wait for the kingdom''s support. Rest assured, I am more sensitive to our losses than you!"


    He discarded the note and walked away. Tnd, stung by the rebuke, turned red and green before picking up the note and leaving.


    Watching them depart, Laenor stood there, caught in a dilemma, and let out a deep sigh.


    ...


    Runestone.


    Rhaegar woke up slowly, his sleepy eyes fluttering open. Across the room, Rhaenyra stood before the dressing table, adjusting her skirt and admiring the Valyrian steel ne around her neck. Since receiving the ne, she hadn''t wanted to take it off for even a moment.


    "You''re awake, Rhaegar," Rhaenyra greeted happily, catching his reflection in the mirror.


    "Good morning, Rhaenyra," Rhaegar replied, sitting up and rubbing his long, messy hair.


    "Come on, get up. I''ll tell Jeyne not to prepare for the farewell party. We��ll leave right away." Rhaenyra walked over to the bed and pulled him up, hastily helping him with his clothes.


    "I''ll do it myself; I''m not a child anymore," Rhaegar protested, struggling as the cor of his shirt caught on his ears.


    "Oh, adults don''t beg for milk?" Rhaenyra teased, curling her lips into a mischievous smile.


    "Ahem..." Rhaegar coughed, trying to hide his embarrassment, and resignedly epted her assistance.


    An hourter.


    After a hurried breakfast, the siblings said their goodbyes and mounted their dragons. With a roar, Cannibal and Syrax took flight, leaving Runestone Castle behind.


    In the castle''s front yard, Jeyne, Gerold, Old Grimm, and others watched them depart.


    "Lady Jeyne, we should also be on our way," Erryk said respectfully, d in his silver armor and white robe.


    With the rebellion quelled, it was time for Jeyne to return to the Eyrie. At her request, Rhaegar had left Erryk and 500 Dragonkeepers to serve as her guards. This also provided an opportunity to sell transported goods and establish a trade route from the Crownds to the Vale.


    "No problem, Ser," Jeyne replied with a faint smile. She pulled a note from her sleeve and handed it to Gerold.


    At Gerold''s questioning look, she said, "Send a raven to deliver the letter to King''s Landing."


    Gerold nodded and turned to find the maester.


    "Come along, Ser," Jeyne said, her smile widening. The letter expressed her gratitude to the crown and set a date for her visit to King''s Landing. She also hoped to receive an honorary knighthood for Rhaegar.


    Having secured the benefits of backing the royal family, Jeyne knew exactly the attitude she needed to disy.


    ...


    Evening, King''s Landing.


    "Roar..."


    A pitch-ck dragon soared through the sky above King''s Landing like a meteor, its roar echoing throughout the city. The mighty roar caught the attention of countless residents. Nobles andmoners alike raised their heads, knowing that the appearance of the ck dragon could only mean one thing:


    The heir has returned!


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal circled King''s Landing twice, releasing green mes that showed off the fierce dragon''s formidable power. Momentster, the dragon descended to the Red Keep andnded gracefully in the spacious courtyard.


    Rhaegar leapt from Cannibal''s back and shouted, "Jump down boldly, I''ll catch you."


    "You''d better catch me," Rhaenyra replied, rising nervously from her saddle.


    With a reassuring smile, Rhaegar held out his arms. Rhaenyra jumped, and he caught her with ease, spinning her around twice in a joyous embrace.


    Syrax had been too slow, so when they left the Vale, Rhaegar had suggested they both ride Cannibal to shorten their journey.


    "Haha, you��ve caught me where it hurts," Rhaenyraughed, yfully pping Rhaegar on the shoulder.


    "Well, let''s get going. Father''s waiting," Rhaegar said, taking her hand and leading her towards the castle.


    "Wait."

 Chapter 189: The Strange Wounds Caused by the Iron Throne

    Chapter 189: The Strange Wounds Caused by the Iron Throne


    Rhaenyra suddenly stopped, her smile fading as she turned away.


    "What''s wrong?" Rhaegar asked, concerned.


    "Nothing, just... turn around first," Rhaenyra replied, her ears turning red as she awkwardly covered her chest with both hands.


    "Did you bump into something?" Rhaegar asked, moving closer in curiosity.


    "Rhaegar, you''re too close," Rhaenyra said, her expression a mix of embarrassment and annoyance.


    Rhaegar blinked, clearly confused. "I don''t understand."


    Rhaenyra red at him. "It''s your fault, I''m flustered."


    With that, she kicked him lightly and walked towards the castle alone, leaving Rhaegar puzzled and wondering what he had done wrong.


    ...The Banquet Hall


    Viserys leaned back in his chair, his eyes full of anticipation. Musicians yed soft tunes on either side of the hall, and a small dwarf, dressed as a pirate with arge head, performedically.


    The sound of footsteps approaching from around the corner drew the attention of everyone in the room.


    Viserys looked up and immediately became excited. "Rhaegar, Rhaenyra!"


    "Father!" they both eximed.


    Now dressed in their formal ck garments, Rhaenyra and Rhaegar stepped forward hand in hand.


    "My children, how was your trip to the Vale?" Viserys asked, rising to greet them with a smile.


    The siblings exchanged a brief nce. Rhaenyra smiled softly and spread her hands. "Yes. The Mountain ns were stopped and the fleet from Gulltown was sent to the Stepstones."


    "Excellent. I''ve been worried about you both," Viserys said, visibly relieved. He stepped forward and hugged his daughter, then looked his eldest son up and down, ensuring he was unharmed.


    Rhaegar smiled, cing his hands in front of his belly, although hidden beneath his clothes were two scars, one on his stomach and one on the back of his waist.


    "Oh ho ho, look at this beautifuldy! The Pirate Mushroom sends his regards," a shrill child''s voice suddenly interrupted. The dwarf ying the pirate, known as Mushroom, trotted up.


    Halfway to them, Mushroom dropped to his knees and slidically to a stop before the trio.


    Viserys chuckled. "Mushroom is a good fiddler, always up for a good time."


    Rhaenyra, amused, beckoned him over. "Mushroom, got anything new to tell us?"


    "Sure, Princess," Mushroom said, nimbly climbing up and approaching Rhaenyra. Holding hisrge belly, he muttered with an obsessive face, "Your beauty, Princess, is the most novel and beautiful thing in the world."


    "Haha, I knew you''d say that," Rhaenyra said, amused by the dwarf''s ttery.


    With two nobles favoring him, Mushroom felt extremely pleased with himself. He then turned his gaze to Rhaegar, pretending to be intoxicated. "Handsome prince, your trip to the Vale must have been full of passion. How many nobledies did you capture?"


    Rhaegar looked down at him, curling his mouth into a smirk.


    Mushroom tried to maintain his ttery, but before he could continue, Rhaegar kicked him in the face, knocking him to the ground. "Don''t talk nonsense in front of me."


    Rhaenyra frowned slightly but led Rhaegar forward, stepping over Mushroom.


    "Rhaegar, Mushroom meant well," Rhaenyra said, ncing back at the dwarf sprawled on the floor.


    Rhaegar''s frown deepened. "If he wasn''t a source of amusement for you and father, he would have been thrown into the Dragonpit and fed to the dragons."


    He had no patience for bootlickers, especially those like Mushroom who thrived on spreading rumors and gossip. These characters were only capable of ttering and making fools of themselves, wandering among the rich and powerful for no real purpose.


    Rhaenyra couldn''t argue with him and had Mushroom taken away.


    As the day waned, Viserys sent word to Alicent to prepare a reception for his children.


    ...


    Nightfall.


    In the king''s bedchamber, Viserys sat on the edge of the bed, painstakingly removing his shirt, revealing the wounds covering his body.


    "Ha, aren''t these wounds a sight?" he grimaced in pain as his clothes rubbed against the cuts, looking to his son, Rhaegar, for reassurance.


    Rhaegar stood behind him, silent, a thousand words stuck in his throat.


    Memories flooded back of his father''s injuries, including the loss of two fingers to the Iron Throne when he was young. His father had always hidden his pain, shielding him from the severity of his wounds.


    Now faced with the truth, Rhaegar struggled to maintainposure. "No, you''ve endured these wounds with the resilience of a true warrior," he said, reaching out to touch his father''s weathered skin.


    Viserys shook his head, chuckling softly. "No need for ttery, son. I know these wounds are not pretty."


    He knew it from the strain in his rtionship with Alicent. Despite her silence, he felt her resistance and rejection, otherwise she wouldn''t be so dry, even after they had spent so much time together at night.


    Rhaegar''s smile faded as he sat beside his father. "I will help heal your wounds and restore your health," he vowed solemnly, extending his hand and invoking the "Bridled Serpent" rune.


    A serpent emerged from the ck smoke, slithering into Viserys''s wounds. With each passing moment, the serpent grew slightlyrger and more agile, consuming the ck smoke that lingered in the wounds.


    But one wound, near his vertebrae, stubbornly resisted healing, emitting a foul odor. Despite the serpent''s efforts, a trace of ck smoke persisted.


    Confusion clouded Rhaegar''s eyes as he observed the stubborn wound. It was then that he noticed something remarkable��the wound was not only healing but regenerating, leaving behind only a delicate bloodstain.


    Yet, the ck smoke lingered, refusing to dissipate entirely.


    Viserys sighed in relief, feeling the burden of his injuries lift. "What''s troubling you, Rhaegar?" he inquired, sensing his son''s hesitation.


    Rhaegar hesitated before responding, "It''s nothing, Father."


    Despite the serpent''s efforts, the wounds, regardless of severity, remained coated in a thinyer of ck smoke, resistingplete healing. The cuts persisted.

 Chapter 190: Helaena and Daeron

    Chapter 190: Hena and Daeron


    Rhaegar stared at the remaining bloodstains, deep in thought.


    Over the years, many maesters had treated his father, but the results were minimal. The serpent rune had extraordinary properties, but the wound couldn��t bepletely eradicated.


    "It''s strange!" he muttered to himself.


    "Rhaegar, I feel the pain easing," Viserys said, groaning with relief as the runic serpent disappeared. He turned around with a smile.


    By the Seven Gods! The pain that had built up over the years was almost gone. He felt a decade younger.


    "Really? That��s good!" Rhaegar forced a smile, genuinely happy for his father.


    Viserys, noticing his eldest son��s concern, touched the wound on his back. There was no rotting flesh or sticky pus��just a faint thread of fresh blood leaking from a small cut.


    Viserys��s face changed slightly, his eyes shing with surprise. His eldest son had said the wound would fully recover. Something had gone wrong.


    "The wound has healed, and the pain has subsided. I��m already satisfied," Viserys said, not wanting Rhaegar to worry. "What I said is also true."Rhaegar hung his head, whispering, "I��m sorry, father. The treatment will need to be regr."


    He wasn��t sure why the wound hadn��t fully healed. But it was better to ease his father��s pain than let the wound rot.


    "That''s good, isn��t it?" Viserys said warmly, patting Rhaegar��s shoulder.


    Rhaegar forced another smile, his heart heavy with disappointment. He had searched for a cure for his father, including a looking for marsh marigolds at Crackw Point. But they were too rare to find in ordinary swamps, and thergest swamps were too dangerous even for Cannibal.


    The serpent rune was supposed to cure the wound, but something had gone wrong.


    Viserys pondered for a moment, then smiled bitterly. "It is said that the Iron Throne chooses its masters. Perhaps I��m not a good choice, which is why I��m cursed by it."


    Starting from Aegon the Conqueror, simr incidents hadn��t happened to Aenys, Maegor, or Jaehaerys. Viserys could only attribute his suffering to not being good enough for his position.


    "No! You��re a good king. You��ve made no mistakes," Rhaegar argued. His father didn��t deserve this punishment. Compared to the weak Aenys and the cruel Maegor, Viserys was a good king. He was loved, the kingdom was at peace, and the people could eat.


    Throughout the history of Westeros, such monarchs were rare.


    "The gods don��t make a man rich because he doesn��t make mistakes. I should not lie to myself," Viserys said, relieved. "Don��t worry too much about your father. I''m not that fragile."


    He had endured the pain for more than a decade and now felt relief.


    "Rhaegar, tell me about your trip to the Vale, including where you got your new magical abilities," Viserys said, holding his son��s shoulders.


    When Rhaegar told him about the rune, Viserys hadn��t believed his im that everything had gone smoothly. Learning magic suddenly wasn��t normal.


    "Father..." Touched by his father��s optimism, Rhaegar slowly recounted his experiences in the Vale. He spoke of the mountain ns and the ambush.


    Viserys listened attentively, smiling on the outside but squeezing his son��s shoulders harder and harder. Even with Rhaegar��s feats, he could sense the danger.


    ...


    Three Days Later


    The Dragonpit


    "Roar..."


    A powerful dragon''s roar echoed through the Dragonpit as a light blue dragon spewed fire, scorching a goat to a half-cooked state.


    "Dreamfyre, eat the goat!" a young girl''s clear voicemanded.


    Dreamfyre stretched its neck, stamped its feet, and spread its wings wide. Hena, her eyes wide with anticipation, watched from the protection of the dragon keeper.


    Over the past few days, Dreamfyre had gone from rejecting her presence to listening to hermands. Today, it had even roasted the goat on her orders, filling Hena with the hope of sessfully taming the dragon.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre roared again, pped its wings, and climbed up the wall of the Dragonpit, flicking its tail proudly. Just because it had roasted a goat didn''t mean it had to follow the orders of a small girl.


    Seeing Dreamfyre''s indifferent behavior, Hena''s big round eyes showed disappointment, and she tugged at the hem of her white dress.


    "Sister, Tessarion listened to mymand."


    A childish voice came from the other side. Hena turned to see a little boy with short silver-blonde hair and a face full of baby fat. The boy, around four or five years old, had bright purple eyes.


    "Daeron, you did it?" Hena asked in surprise, walking towards her brother.


    Next to Daeron stood a dejected Aemond. Dressed in green, Aemond stood behind his younger brother, his eyes full of envy and reluctance.


    There were only two untamed dragons in the Dragonpit. Hena, being the oldest, was given the chance to tame Dreamfyre alone. Aemond and Daeron, on the other hand, were both trying to bond with Tessarion.


    Surprisingly, Tessarion had taken a liking to Daeron. The haughty blue dragon would not attack Daeron and even obeyed hismand to breathe fire.


    On the open-air za of the Dragonpit


    Rhaenyra looked down at themotion below and remarked, "Tessarion has recognized Daeron. It looks like it will soon be tamed."


    "Yes, our youngest brother is a genius," Rhaegar replied, hugging Rhaenyra from behind and resting his cheek against hers.


    Rhaenyra tilted her head andughed. "Daeron is about to break your record of taming a dragon at the age of six."


    "That''s not a record," Rhaegar said thoughtfully. "But Daeron is a good match for Tessarion. He is a true Targaryen."


    Having awakened his own bloodline, Rhaegar was very concerned about his family''s lineage. He and Rhaenyra had sessfully tamed their dragons at the ages of six and seven, far earlier than the usual fifteen years old or so. He believed this was due in part to their pure bloodline.


    After chatting for a while, Rhaenyra broke away from his embrace and said, "Lord Lyonel is returning to King''s Landing today, so I have to help Alicent prepare for the banquet."


    "Hard work," Rhaegarplimented her.


    "If you really cared about me, you would help me," Rhaenyra teased, cupping Rhaegar''s cheeks in her hands and kissing his forehead.


    Rhaegar smiled and teased back, "Even if you bought me, I wouldn''t help decorate the banquet."


    He had other things to do.


    "Hmph, don''t get your hopes up," Rhaenyra said with a soft snort, turning to walk into the staircase.


    "Princess!" she heard a voice at the corner. She bumped into Maynard and Syrio, who were walking up the stairs. They greeted her respectfully.


    Rhaenyra nodded lightly and brushed past them.

 Chapter 191: Bad News from the Stepstones Islands

    Chapter 191: Bad News from the Stepstones Inds


    Maynard and Syrio stepped onto the terrace where Rhaegar had been waiting.


    Maynard was the first to speak. "Prince, I''ve assigned the craftsmen from the ve ships to work at the Dragonpit and arranged for the children to learn their crafts. I''ve also started the apprentice training you ordered. There are one or two with promising talent."


    Rhaegar nodded. "How many craftsmen are there in King��s Landing?"


    Before his trip, Rhaegar hadid out several long-term strategies, one of which involved gaining control over the city��s smiths.


    Maynard replied, "Including cksmiths, carpenters, masons, and others, there are probably several thousand craftsmen in the city."


    These craftsmen made a living through their trades and generally had no trouble making ends meet. It was amon upation among the popce.


    "Select some of the most skilled smiths to expand the workforce at the Dragonpit. Leave the rest for now," Rhaegar instructed.


    It was sufficient to have a count of the craftsmen. They wouldply when their skills were needed.


    Havingpleted his report, Maynard stepped back, maintaining a respectful demeanor.Syrio then stepped forward with a smile. "Prince, I''ve found an exceptional girl and n to teach her myself."


    "As you wish, just don''t neglect your primary duties," Rhaegar responded, confident in Syrio''s capabilities.


    "I''ll bring the girlter so you can meet her in person," Syrio said with a mysterious smile.


    Rhaegar nodded, signaling them to retire with a wave of his hand. He turned back to watch his younger siblings as they continued their attempts to tame their dragons.


    ...


    Noon.


    The army of the Rivends marched into King''s Landing, their armor and shields adorned with n crests:


    A leaping trout, silver, on a field of blue and mud red, a flock of ravens on scarlet surrounding a dead weirwood upon a ck escutcheon, A red stallion upon a golden escutcheon on brown and a red salmon.


    Each banner represented the noble houses of the Rivends.


    Lyonel and his eldest son, Harwin, rode at the forefront, receiving cheers from the crowds and bing the center of attention.


    Viserys, looking healthy and vibrant, stepped out from the gates of the Red Keep, nked by Rhaegar, to greet the army personally.


    At the sight of the King and the Heir, the army halted, and representatives from each family came forward to pay their respects.


    Viserys, calm and rxed, warmly weed the Rivends nobles. Rhaegar, by his side, took on the task of greeting the noble representatives.


    "The ckwood House greets you, honorable prince," a slender, dark-haired young man said, kneeling on one knee.


    "Rise. What is your name?" Rhaegar asked, studying the youth who appeared slightly older than himself, with hands full of calluses.


    "Samwell ckwood, Your Grace," the young man replied, his chest puffed out and eyes gleaming with pride.


    Rhaegar''s interest was piqued. "The Samwell who dueled and killed the Lord of Bracken?"


    Samwell flushed with excitement. "Yes, Prince, that was me."


    "You should be proud of yourself, killing a grown man while still a teenager," Rhaegar noted, sensing a hint of modesty in Samwell''s demeanor.


    Samwell smiled sheepishly. "It was the Bracken House''s foolhardiness that led them to fall before my sword."


    "Hehe, I like your modesty," Rhaegar said, amused. He then invited Samwell to return to the Red Keep with him.


    A group of young nobles, mostly second sons or illegitimate children seeking to make their mark, apanied them. Rhaegar weed them warmly, memorizing their names and engaging them in conversation.


    He learned about their backgrounds and situations, offering words of encouragement rather than rushing to recruit them. This subtle approach allowed him to gradually win their loyalty and trust.


    ...


    The wee banquet was in full swing.


    Nobles gathered in the Red Keep while soldiers enjoyed wine and meat in the courtyard. Rhaegar sat at a table with the children of the nobles, a gentle smile on his lips, listening intently as they shared their dreams. He mentally noted a few promising candidates.


    Taking a sip of sake, Rhaegar leaned back in his chair, absently ying with a ruby in his hand. The gem, about the size of a pigeon��s egg and carved into an octagon, was warm and smooth against his palm.


    He had acquired it from the Red Witch, believing it to be a magical treasure capable of extraordinary feats. However, it had yet to reveal its secrets.


    "It can absorb mes, that''s all I know for now," Rhaegar murmured to himself, contemting its potential.


    Halfway through the banquet, Grand Maester Mellos hurriedly entered the hall. The elderly man, gasping for breath, handed a sealed letter to Viserys. "Your Grace, urgent news from Stepstones Ind. You must be prepared," he said, his voiceced with worry.


    Viserys, maintaining hisposure, opened the letter and read it silently. As he progressed, his expression shifted from calm to deeply troubled.


    Rhaegar, sensing the gravity of the situation, left his seat and made his way through the bustling hall to his father. "What is the news, Father?" he asked quietly.


    Viserys''s voice was grave. "The Dornish fleet has attacked Bloodstone Ind, in coboration with the Triarchy, destroying all defenses. The Sea Snake and his men have suffered heavy losses."


    Rhaegar took the letter and read it carefully. Just two days ago, Prince Dorne had joined forces with the Triarchy to assault Bloodstone Ind.


    Rhaenys had rushed to aid with Meleys, and Laenor''s Sea Smoke had incinerated many enemy ships. However, despite a patrol fleet from Storm��s End driving back the attackers, the Sea Snake was injured, and Bloodstone Ind was no longer secure.


    "Damn it, the Dornish did get involved," Rhaegar cursed. He then turned to his father, his expression serious. "Father, the army of the Rivends has gathered. Tomorrow, I will ride my dragon and lead our forces to the Stepstones."


    King��s Landing had received news that the White Harbor fleet had arrived at the Stepstones Inds, with fleets from Oldtown and Arbor en route.


    House Grafton in Gulltown was consolidating its power and had dispatched half of their fleet in support. The kingdom had the strength to confront the Triarchy.


    Viserys, his face stern, advised, "The Stepstones need support, but the Rivends army has never participated in a sea battle. Listen to the Sea Snake��s advice and don��t be impulsive."


    Rhaegar nodded solemnly, understanding his father��s caution. The kingdom had been at peace for a long time, and the Rivends armycked experience, particrly in naval warfare. Their true strength was uncertain.


    "Aegon is still on his honeymoon. You��ll have to lead alone, so be careful," Viserys urged.


    "I will, Father," Rhaegar replied, his resolve firm. The ambush by the Mountain ns had taught him caution.


    Viserys summoned Lyonel to discuss the army''s situation. After a brief conversation, Rhaegar was the first to leave the table. As he exited the hall, the second sons and bastards, who had been captivated by his words, rose to follow him, ready to pledge their lives to his cause.


    Noticing the shift, Rhaenyra excused herself from thedy she was conversing with and followed, her dress trailing behind her. Harwin Strong, ever vignt for the princess, also departed with her.

 Chapter 192: The Faceless Men – The Second Son’s Regiment

    Chapter 192: The Faceless Men �C The Second Son��s Regiment


    After leaving the banquet and the Red Keep, Rhaegar made his way directly to the Dragonpit.


    He gathered the remaining seven hundred Dragonkeepers and, under Maynard''s supervision, chose the two hundred most skilled among them.


    "One hundred of you will sail to the Stepstones Inds tomorrow," Rhaegar ordered, "and one hundred will be stationed at the Red Keep to reinforce the guard."


    The battlefield needed seasoned warriors, and the Red Keep''s defenses required reinforcement to form an elite royal guard.


    "Yes, Prince," Maynard acknowledged, leading the chosen men away.


    Syrio approached, his hair disheveled as if he had just woken up from a nap. Rhaegar gave him a questioning look.


    "Prince, remember the girl I mentioned?" Syrio said, stepping aside to reveal a young girl from a foreignnd, dressed in a ck robe.


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened in recognition. "Sara?"


    His memory was sharp, especially since she had helped him acquire a Valyrian Steel sword. Sara stepped forward, kneeling. "Thank you for taking me in, Prince."Rhaegar cast another questioning nce at Syrio.


    "Sara grew up in Braavos and trained at the House of ck and White," Syrio exined.


    "The Faceless Men?" Rhaegar was surprised. The House of ck and White was the headquarters of the Faceless Men, the world''s most feared assassins.


    "I''m afraid I must disappoint you, Prince," Syrio said. "Sara failed their test. Her target was killed before she could act, ending her examination prematurely."


    Rhaegar listened as the situation unfolded. After her failed assassination, the House of ck and White severed ties with Sara. Fearing for her life, she fled, eventually ending up as a ve in a diator arena after being captured by Unsullied troops.


    Recently, a ve trader had bought her, intending to sell her in Pentos, but her ship was intercepted by the Three Daughters.


    Rhaegar looked at Sara. "You wish to follow me?"


    "Yes, Prince," Sara replied without hesitation.


    "How can I trust you?" Rhaegar asked, wary of a former assassin.


    Sara drew a dagger and held it above her head. "You protected me," she said earnestly.


    Rhaegar''s eyes flickered with contemtion. If Syrio was truthful, Sara was an outcast from the Faceless Men, struggling for survival. Her journey had been marked by hardship, leaving her vulnerable.


    "So I will die for you," Sara dered in broken Valyrian, exposing her neck.


    Rhaegar took the dagger from her and said, "Live well and stand in the sunlight." He tossed the dagger aside, where itnded with a ng.


    "A faceless person does not deserve to live in the sunlight," Sara said, her voice tinged with loneliness.


    "It doesn''t matter. You��re not wearing a mask yet," Rhaegar replied. "Follow me. One face is enough."


    Sara looked up, her light green eyes filled with confusion. "Yes, Prince," she said, standing to follow him.


    As Rhaegar walked out of the Dragonpit, the bright moonlight bathed the earth in a pale glow.


    Dozens of fully armed youths, d in armor, knelt in two rows, their eyes fixed on Rhaegar as he approached. The moonlight illuminated his long silver-gold hair, which swayed gently in the evening wind, and his violet eyes, calm andposed. His handsome face, still youthful, belied the calm authority in his movements.


    Rhaegar looked down at the second sons and bastards kneeling before him and smiled. "Are you looking for me?"


    He understood their urgency. The recent events hade as a sudden shock.


    A ck-haired young man at the front began, "Prince, the pirates of the Triarchy have invaded our territory. Please allow us to join you and help cut through the thorns!"


    "Your name is Robb Rivers, if I remember correctly," Rhaegar said confidently.


    Robb lifted his head, his excitement palpable. "I am honored that you remember my name."


    Rhaegar waved a hand. "What kind of force can you muster for me if I give you the chance?"


    "In one night, I can call up a group of five hundred men," Robb replied, then added, "All second sons and bastards, trained as knights."


    "Very well. I want to see five hundred men in full gear by morning," Rhaegar said, reaching out to pull Robb to his feet. "You will be themander of the Second Sons, directly under me."


    "I will fulfill my mission!" Robb''s body trembled with excitement, eager to begin his task.


    "Go on, and keep it discreet," Rhaegar advised, patting Robb''s shoulder. He then walked down the steps between the two rows of young men.


    His mere presence and a simple nce caused their blood to boil with excitement.


    In Westeros, aside from a few great houses, most noble houses had only the eldest son as heir. The eldest son represented the family and held the fiefdom and the people. The second sons were often seen as backups, or squires to their older brothers.


    Lesser nobles, unable to support all their children, would equip their second sons with armor, weapons, and horses before sending them out to find their own way. Bastards, often despised, had even fewer prospects.


    By bringing in second sons and bastards, whocked family support, Rhaegar found a loyal and skilled force. Many of these young men were trained as knights, proficient in riding, archery, and swordsmanship, capable of outmatching ordinary peasants on the battlefield.


    Rhaegar''s army, apart from the 1,200-strong Dragonkeepers, was in need of reinforcement. The Second Sons'' Regiment,prised of these eager and skilled men, would form a formidable addition to his forces.


    ...


    On his way back to the Red Keep, Rhaegar rode in a carriage. In a dimly lit alley, a group of gold cloaks stood guard.


    Rhaenyra, dressed in a ck gown, stood on her tiptoes, watching the carriage slowly pass by.


    "Princess, the prince has returned," Harwin said gently, holding a torch to light the way.


    "I see him, Ser," Rhaenyra replied, a smile ying on her lips as she glimpsed Rhaegar''s figure inside the carriage by the flickering light. "The banquet is not over yet. Let''s return to the Red Keep."


    "I''ve arranged a carriage for you," Harwin said, waving his hand to signal the gold cloaks to disperse. "Watch your step, Princess."


    Rhaenyra smiled. "Thank you, Ser."


    "Keeping the princess safe is the duty of the City Watch," Harwin replied solemnly, raising his hand in a gesture of invitation.


    Rhaenyra gave him an skeptical look and gracefully boarded the carriage, lifting her skirt.


    Harwin did not join her in the carriage but instead sent two gold cloaks to escort her, watching as the carriage departed. His eyes briefly revealed a glimmer of admiration.


    Quicklyposing himself, Harwin turned to the gold cloaks and barked, "Resume your patrols! No cking!"


    With that, he resumed his usual tough demeanor and led his men to patrol the city, diligently roaming the streets and alleys.

 Chapter 193: Sea Smoke Injury

    Chapter 193: Sea Smoke Injury


    The next morning, as the sun rose, hundreds of second sons and bastards, equipped with varying gear, guarded the closed gates of the Dragonpit.


    With a rumbling noise, the gates slowly opened, and two dragon shadows burst out first.


    "Roar..."


    Green mes illuminated the sky as Cannibal soared into the clouds, followed closely by Syrax, heading towards ckwater Bay.


    As the two dragons flew away, a slender figure emerged from the Dragonpit''s doors.


    Sara approached the Second Sons and coldlymanded, "The prince has ordered us to head to the harbor to board the ships."


    "Yes!"


    Robb, now the leader of the Second Sons, led his group ofrades towards the harbor.


    Sara nced back at the shadowy entrance of the Dragonpit before following the group....


    Above ckwater Bay, two dragons, one ck and one gold, soared over the sea, asionally gliding low enough for their feet to skim the water''s surface.


    "Rhaegar, be safe when you reach the Stepstones," Rhaenyra cautioned from her saddle.


    "Don''t worry, I''ll be fine," Rhaegar assured her. "You just need to pick up the dragon eggs and head straight to Driftmark."


    Rhaenyra was the nominal foster mother of Laena''s two children and had promised to ce dragon eggs in their cradles. After discussing it with their father, she agreed to ride the dragons away from King''s Landing, traveling back to Dragonstone and then to Driftmark.


    This not only fulfilled her promise but also helped strengthen the rtionship between the Targaryen and Vryon Houses.


    As the sun continued to rise, the rocky ind of Dragonstone came into view.


    Rhaenyra stopped Syrax, and the siblings said their goodbyes.


    Rhaegar guided Cannibal over Dragonstone and headed towards the Stepstones.


    ...


    Rhaegar''s Cannibal flew over Dragonstone Ind.


    "Kill! Seize Bloodstone Ind!"


    "Shoot arrows!"


    On the beach of Bloodstone Ind, chaos reigned. Dark-haired and dark-skinned Dornishmen charged in groups, shing with the king''s soldiers led by the silver-armored and white-robed Cole, whose expression was grave. The tide repeatedly washed away the blood staining the beach as the two sides fought fiercely.


    Beyond the ind, another battlefield raged at sea. Warships, bearing seahorses and mermaids on their sails, were filled with soldiers shooting arrows. The pirate ships of the Three Daughters maintained a distance, their scorpion crossbows loaded and ready.


    "Fire!"


    At themand, the scorpion crossbowsunched steel spears that streaked across the sky like meteors.


    Boom...


    The scorpion crossbows, with their immense power, easily pierced through soldiers and shattered the hulls of enemy warships. Hundreds perished instantly under the barrage.


    "Roar..."


    The dragon''s roar echoed along the coastline as the scarlet-scaled Meleys and the Sea Smoke arrived, unleashing dragonfire upon the pirate ships below.


    "Attack! Drop the battering ram!"


    With the dragons on the battlefield, the Sea Snake raised his scimitar and ordered his fleet to charge. Both sides had roughly fifty ships each, but the pirates quickly lost control under the dragon''s assault, with several ships sumbing to dragonfire.


    "Set up the scorpion crossbows, aim at the dragon!"


    Dozens of scorpion crossbows were reloaded and aimed at the two giant dragons.


    "Fire!"


    As the dragons descended to spew dragonfire, the scorpion crossbows were fired one after another.


    "Dodge!"


    Rhaenysmanded loudly. Meleys, burning the mast of a pirate ship with a burst of dragonfire, rose swiftly into the air, evading the steel bolts. The scarlet dragon moved like a streak of light, untouchable.


    "Roar..."


    An agonizing roar came from Sea Smoke, who had flown too low and was struck by a scorpion crossbow. A steel spear pierced through Sea Smoke''s light gray wing membrane, scattering hot dragon blood on the sea.


    With its wing damaged, Sea Smoke struggled to maintain bnce. Laenor, shocked and panicked, urged, "Sea Smoke, fly up!"


    In his haste to destroy the pirate ships, Laenor had driven Sea Smoke too low.


    "Roar..."


    Sea Smoke stabilized, screaming and flying higher, continuously spitting dragonfire in frustration.


    "Maintain altitude, don''t be reckless!" Rhaenys shouted, worriedly.


    The force of the scorpion crossbows was enough to break through an adult dragon''s scales, and the barbed steel spears made them difficult to remove. Sea Smoke, still a young dragon, was particrly vulnerable.


    Fortunately, the spear had only pierced the wing membrane. Had it struck the neck or torso, Sea Smoke might have lost the ability to fly and fallen into the sea, becaming an easy target.


    "Go support your father!" Rhaenys ordered, noting the reloading scorpion crossbows below. She decided against further engagement.


    A few dozen scorpion crossbows might not harm Meleys significantly, but Laenor and Sea Smoke were at greater risk. Laenor, seeing Sea Smoke''s bleeding wing, chose to follow his mother''s orders.


    Rhaenys sighed in relief and turned her attention to the pirate ships, her expression growing more solemn.


    "Meleys, Dracarys!"


    "Roar..."


    Meleys, thrilled to be in battle again, turned swiftly, her dragonfire igniting a pirate ship. The mes, though powerful, only managed to set masts and armor aze, unable to cause widespread destruction due to the attack''s distance.


    The Sea Snake''s fleet arrived, colliding with the pirate ships. Soldiers leaped over the sides, engaging in closebat.


    "Roar..."


    Two dragons circled in the sky, asionally breathing fire.


    Amidst the chaos, a distant horn sounded��a signal of arrival.


    More than thirty warships emerged on the horizon, their sails adorned with a sun spear symbols��the Dornish reinforcements had arrived.


    Swift and fierce, the Dornish ships joined the fray, attacking alongside the pirates of the Three Daughters.


    "Fire!"manded the Dornish, their arrows raining down indiscriminately amidst the chaos of battle, hitting both friend and foe alike.


    The Sea Snake''s fleet, burdened by scorpion crossbows, maneuvered along the periphery, taking advantage of the distraction to strike.


    Rhaenys''s dragon, Meleys, soared through the air, unleashing dragonfire upon the pirate ships, crushing them.


    As the Dornish continued their attack, Rhaenys surveyed the grim scene, realizing the odds were turning against them.


    "Corlys, we''re outnumbered!" she eximed, her eyes darkening with concern as their forces dwindled.


    With each passing moment, their fleet faced greater peril. Even thebined might of their dragons couldn''t turn the tide of the battle.


    Corlys remained resolute. "Hold fast. Storm''s End''s fleet will arrive soon!" he said.


    Retreat was not an option. Since the Dornish joined forces with the Three Daughters, the conflict had escted already.


    The kingdom''s fleet hastily advanced toward the warships of House Celtigar stationed at w Isle and at White Harbor, but they proved unable to withstand the relentless assault of the Dornish and the allies from the Triarchy.

 Chapter 194: Cannibal’s Crushing Grind

    Chapter 194: Cannibal��s Crushing Grind


    In the midst of the shouting, an arrow flew from behind.


    With a sickening thud, it pierced the Sea Snake''s right shoulder through a gap in his armor. Blood sttered, and the Sea Snake screamed in agony, staggering and nearly falling.


    "Brother!"


    Vaemond, hearing the cry, was shocked. He swiftly stabbed a pirate attempting to attack the Sea Snake and shielded him.


    "Corlys!"


    Rhaenys, watching anxiously, was equally rmed and worried about her husband''s condition.


    "Shoot!"


    A new volley of scorpion crossbows was fired, and Meleys surged into the air. The pirates below had anticipated the scarlet dragon''s path andunched their steel spears ordingly.


    Before Rhaenys could react, a spear hurtled towards Meleys'' neck."Roar..."


    Sensing the danger, Meleys dodged just in time, narrowly avoiding the fatal strike. However, the spear shed dangerously close to Rhaenys'' face. In an instant, cold sweat trickled down her brow, and the rushing wind stung her cheeks. She hade within mere meters of being impaled.


    "Dracarys!"


    Regaining herposure, Rhaenys, furious, urged Meleys into a frenzied attack, scorching the pirate ships'' scorpion crossbows. Her desperate assault caused Laenor great concern. He attempted to alleviate the pressure on his mother by directing Sea Smoke in attacks on the pirate ships.


    Despite their efforts, the battle deteriorated. As the Dornishmen finished firing their bows and arrows, they lowered their ramming horns, preparing for closebat.


    "Mother, get in the air!" Laenor shouted suddenly.


    The Dornish ships also bore scorpion crossbows and had locked onto Meleys, who was entangled with the pirate ships. But Rhaenys, ignoring the plea, continued her relentless assault.


    "Fire!"


    Themand rang out, and the Dornish scorpion crossbows fired in unison. Sensing imminent danger, Meleys pped her wings and soared upwards, narrowly escaping a barrage of steel spears.


    "Attack! Board and fight!"


    The Dornish warships crashed into the Sea Snake''s fleet, and dark-haired, dark-skinned Dornish soldiers swarmed aboard. The battle''s tide quickly turned for the worse.


    The Sea Snake fought valiantly, protected by Vaemond and his men, but the enemy''s encirclement tightened. The bodies of fallen soldiers were cast into the sea, and the Triarchy''s pirates loomed closer.


    The Sea Snake, drenched in blood, continued to fight fiercely, retreating step by step amidst the growing encirclement.


    "Roar..."


    A deep dragon roar echoed across the Stepstones, catching everyone''s attention.


    From the thick clouds, a pitch-ck dragon shot out like a dark meteor.


    "Dracarys!"


    Rhaegar, perched on the dragon''s back, gazed down indifferently as he uttered the High Valyrianmand.


    Cannibal swooped over the battlefield, its cold, merciless eyes gleaming. It opened its maw, releasing a torrent of Dragonfire.


    Boom!


    The dark green mes filled the air like smoke, engulfing half of the battlefield in an instant.


    "Help!..."


    More than a dozen pirate ships were consumed by the mes, their crews screaming in agony as they were turned to ash. Cannibal''s Dragonfire was extremely adhesive, clinging to anything it touched until it waspletely incinerated. The ships burned slowly, enveloped in the dark green mes.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal, unafraid of flying low, glided close to the ground, its thick neck spewing Dragonfire in every direction. Its massive body blocked the sun, casting a shadow over the battlefield.


    Rhaegar shouted to Rhaenys and Laenor, "Go support Lord Corlys! I''ll handle this!"


    Corlys was trapped in a fierce battle with the Dornish and the pirates of the Triarchy. The presence of two more dragons would be crucial in turning the tide.


    "Be careful!" Rhaenys called back, worried about her husband. She urged her dragon towards the Dornish fleet.


    Laenor, excited and determined, led Sea Smoke to support their fleet. As he turned, he nced back to witness Cannibal''s devastating assault.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal rose higher, its powerful hind legs smashing into the mast of a pirate ship, nearly toppling it with the sheer force.


    "Reload the scorpions, quick!"


    Panicked, the pirates of the Triarchy pinned their hopes on the remaining scorpion crossbows.


    Rhaegarmanded, "Dracarys!"


    Cannibal, still climbing, lowered its head and unleashed another wave of Dragonfire. The steel spears of the scorpions were engulfed in the mes, melting into puddles of iron that fell into the ocean.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal reached a certain height and then dove again, spewing eerie green Dragonfire onto the remaining pirate ships.


    Boom!


    The ships that encountered the Dragonfire were instantly engulfed in mes, leaving no pirates alive. The surrounding ships, their hulls scorched by the mes, faced their doom in utter despair.


    In a matter of moments, the hard-won advantage of the Triarchy''s fleet was gone. Compared to the 60-year-old Meleys and the young Sea Smoke, the 100-year-old Cannibal was an unstoppable force. The giant dragon dwarfed the warships, and its green dragonfire clung to its targets, consuming everything in its path.


    "Cannibal, turn around."


    With the Triarchy''s fleet in ruins, Rhaegar shifted his focus to the Dornish forces. After parting ways with Rhaenyra at Dragonstone, he had flown directly to the Stepstones without dy. His timely arrival proved crucial, as the Kingdom''s fleet had been on the verge of disaster.


    Cannibal''s devastating attack on the Triarchy''s ships quickly turned the tide of battle. The massive dragon''s relentless destruction relieved much of the pressure on the kingdom''s forces. Rhaegar then turned Cannibal on the Dornish fleet, unleashing dark green mes.


    Meleys and Sea Smoke nked Cannibal on either side, their differently colored scales adding to the intimidating presence of the dragons. Together, they rained destruction upon the Dornish fleet.


    Boom!


    A Dornish ship was incinerated, and thousands of soldiers perished in the dragonfire, their dying screams filling the air. With the dragons'' support, the Sea Snake''s forces rallied and broke through the pirate encirclement with renewed vigor.


    Half an hourter, the Sea Snake and Vaemond sat in a pool of blood, their dark faces turned toward the sky, their chests heaving with exhaustion. The victory had been hard-won, and they were exhausted.


    The surviving soldiers began to clean up the battlefield, tossing the bodies of pirates and Dornishmen into the sea. In the distance, the smoldering remains of enemy ships lit the horizon with dark green mes, casting an eerie glow over the ocean.


    Rhaegar sat on Cannibal''s back, listening to the dragon''s triumphant roar. He enjoyed the thrill of its destructive power.


    "Cousin, I''m d you made it in time," Laenor said, flying over on Sea Smoke, his voice tinged with relief.


    "I didn''t expect the Triarchy''s attack to be so fierce either," Rhaegar replied, understanding the gravity of the situation.


    After receiving the raven''s messagest night, he and his father had quickly mobilized their troops, but even then, they had almost been toote.


    "You two stop chatting and hurry to support Bloodstone Ind with me!"


    Meleys flew past, Rhaenys''s voice stern and urgent.


    "Cannibal, follow!"


    Rhaegar directed his dragon toward the smoke-filled Bloodstone Ind.


    At that moment, on Bloodstone Ind, Cole and his soldiers were locked in fiercebat on the beach. The battle had reached a critical point.

 Chapter 195: Returning to Dragonstone Island

    Chapter 195: Returning to Dragonstone Ind


    The Dornish, known for their fearlessness, charged with a ferocity that regr soldiers could not withstand. Cole, locked in battle, fought with increasing desperation, his vision reddened with rage.


    "Dornish bastards!" he roared.


    Hailing from ckhaven, Cole''s father had served as a steward under the Lord of Dondarrion. Cole had once defended against a Dornish incursion and harbored a deep-seated enmity towards them.


    However, the King''s soldiers were no match for the relentless Dornish. As more of hispanions fell, the Dornish gained the upper hand.


    "Roar..."


    A scarlet dragon swooped in, its mes scorching the beach and reducing the Dornish to ashes. Cannibal followed closely, its green Dragonfire splitting the battlefield.


    "Cannibal,nd!" Rhaegarmanded after a moment''s thought. The dragonfire carried the risk of coteral damage in the melee.


    Cannibal descended, its wings kicking up a storm as itnded, crushing several soldiers under its feet and roaring triumphantly.


    "Retreat! Retreat!" The sight of the dragons shattered the morale of the Dornish, and they fled in disarray."Pursue!" Cole shouted, his sword dripping with blood as he continued the charge.


    "Stop, Cole! Retreat at once!" Rhaegar''s voice cut through the confusion. The fleeing Dornish were an easy target for Cannibal''s dragonfire, and pursuing them would only lead to more unnecessary bloodshed.


    Cole paused, panting heavily, his white robes stained red. He nced up at Rhaegar, still in a battle trance.


    The soldiers stopped their pursuit, rounding up any remaining Dornish who couldn''t get away. Most of the enemy fled toward the sea, attempting to evacuate in small boats.


    "Dracarys!" Rhaegar ordered. Cannibal unleashed green dragonfire that engulfed the retreating Dornish, leaving none alive.


    "Whew! The battle is over," Cole sighed, removing his helmet. His handsome face was etched with exhaustion and relief.


    ...


    Noon


    On Bloodstone Ind, Sea Snake recovered from his wounds while Vaemond led his soldiers in clearing the battlefield. Laenor patrolled the waters with Sea Smoke, wary of any possible sneak attacks by the Triarchy.


    Only then did the fleet arrive from Storm''s End. Sixteen ships and two thousand men sailed through the burning green dragonfire of the battlefield and anchored off the coast of Bloodstone.


    Rhaenys greeted them in her husband''s stead, apanied by Rhaegar, Laenor, and Tnd.


    A small boat pulled up to the beach, and a middle-aged man with ck curly hair, fancy clothes, and a bloated figure disembarked, surrounded by a dozen soldiers.


    With a stern expression, Rhaenys said in a deep voice, "Cousin, you arete!"


    The middle-aged man with arge belly and loud voice replied, "Cousin, Father and I received the news and came immediately to support you."


    Rhaegar nced sideways at Laenor, who quietly informed him, "He is Borros Baratheon, eldest son and heir of Lord Boremund."


    Rhaegar frowned and said, "That fool who can''t read a word?"


    Boremund Baratheon was a brave lord with a history of remarkable deeds, but his son was another matter.


    Borros was known more for his temper and his dependence on others than for any skills of his own.


    Rhaenys, showing no patience, stepped forward and demanded, "The raven sent a messagest night; you should have arrived this morning. Without your dy, my husband would not have faced such a bitter battle."


    "Cousin, I came with good intentions. You shouldn''t yell at me!" Borros shouted, his face flushing with anger.


    "Borros, do you not fear tarnishing the Baratheon name by dying the battle?" Rhaenys advanced on him, crossing the guard''s barrier and grabbing Borros by the cor.


    Borros'' expression darkened as he red at Rhaenys, not daring to speak out of turn. She sniffed the air and caught the unmistakable scent of alcohol, immediately understanding the cause of the dy.


    "Borros, how dare you drink on the march!" Rhaenys scolded, her face as icy as her tone.


    Borros, angry and defensive, shouted, "I''ve only had a few cups; it has nothing to do with the dy!"


    "Shut your stinking mouth!" Rhaenys snapped, her eyes filled with disappointment. "The fleet stays, but you and your guards will return to Storm''s End. I will send a raven to inform your father of this!"


    Her connection to the Baratheon family ran deep; her mother was a Baratheon, making Borros'' father, Boremund, her uncle. Even her hair, mostly ck with silver streaks, hinted at her mixed heritage.


    She had never expected her cousin Borros to behave so dishonorably in the midst of war.


    The Sea Snake had been injured before, and today he had taken an arrow, falling into aa. As his wife, Rhaenys needed to attend to him, but dealing with Borros'' ipetence added to her burden.


    With a final re at Borros, Rhaenys turned to attend to her husband''s care.


    As they walked along the road, Rhaenys asked Rhaegar, "When will the support from the Rivends arrive?"


    "Tomorrow night at thetest," Rhaegar replied, considering the distance from ckwater Bay to the Stepstones.


    "The fleets from Vryon, Celtigar, White Harbor, and the Stornds are already gathered, but the remaining reinforcements need to hurry," Rhaenys sighed. "It''s fortunate that the fleets of the Three Daughters and Dorne were decimated this time. We can breathe a little easier."


    Over 80 enemy ships had been burned, and thousands of soldiers had perished in the dragonfire, significantly weakening the alliance of the Three Daughters and Dorne. It would be some time before they could threaten the Stepstones again.


    Tnd interjected urgently, "Our ships have suffered heavy losses, many are damaged, and we are running low on food and fresh water."


    "If the ships are damaged, mobilize the shipwrights to repair them and send people to secure more supplies," Rhaenys replied, too weary to delve into the details of the battle damage.


    In recent days, the army had been exhausted, maintaining their hold on Bloodstone Ind with relentless patrols andbat.


    "I''ll take care of it," Rhaegar said. "The Triarchy will not attack again so soon. Laenor can patrol Bloodstone Ind while I ride Cannibal to Driftmark to hurry the supplies."


    Driftmark, with its many harbors, served as the gateway between ckwater Bay and the Narrow Sea, making it a crucial supply point during the war.


    King��s Landing would send supplies to Driftmark, from where they would be transported to Bloodstone Ind.


    Rhaenys thought it over and nodded. "Good. Then you escort the transport ship."


    She needed to remain on Bloodstone Ind, and Rhaegar and Cannibal were the fastest means to get to and from Driftmark. Additionally, having a dragon escort the transport ships would save manpower and resources, allowing more supplies to be transported safely.


    "I''ll leave now, just in case there''s any dy," Rhaegar said, epting the mission without hesitation.


    Bloodstone Ind was strewn with corpses, and crabs swam in, drawn by the scent of blood. Transporting the wounded and repairing fortifications would keep Tnd busy.


    Rhaegar approached Cannibal, who was lying on the beach, gnawing on charred carcasses. Seeing Rhaegar approach, Cannibal spat out half of a corpse in disgust and snorted.


    "Let''s go, old friend," Rhaegar said, climbing onto the dragon''s back and settling into the saddle.


    Cannibal roared, pped its wings, and rose into the air, heading swiftly down the Narrow Sea towards the Gullet.

 Chapter 196: Newborn Dragon

    Chapter 196: Newborn Dragon


    Evening.


    The Cannibal hovered over Dragonstone Ind, circling in wide arcs. Rhaegar, perched on the dragon''s back, looked down and saw several warships anchored along the shore.


    "Is this the royal fleet Rhaenyra spoke of?" he mused, remembering her ns to assemble a small fleet.


    "Cannibal,nd!" he ordered.


    The ind of Dragonstone was strategically located on the Gullet and collected substantial taxes from passing ships. The ind''s city also contributed significant tax revenue, allowing Rhaenyra to finance a fleet to bolster King''s Landing''s defenses.


    The Cannibal descended slowly andnded in front of Dragonstone''s ck stone gates. As it touched down, the gates swung open and dozens of guards emerged, led by a man with ck hair and a cold, stern face.


    Rhaegar noticed the stag crest on the man''s breastte. "You are a Baratheon?" he asked from his saddle.


    "Jon Baratheon of House Baratheon of Dragonstone," the man replied, dropping to one knee. "Greetings, Your Grace."


    Great houses can have many branches.For example, the Arryns in Gulltown and the branches of House Royce in the Gates of the Moon, branches aremon for such great houses.


    "Is Rhaenyra still on the ind?" Rhaegar asked, not pressing further on Jon''s parentage.


    "The princess is here. I''ve already sent word of your arrival," Jon replied.


    "No need for that. I''ll go straight to her," Rhaegar said, climbing down the softdder and heading for the gates.


    "Wait, Prince," Jon interjected, stepping in front of him. "The princess has not yet given you permission to enter. Please wait."


    Rhaegar froze, his eyes narrowing. "Do you see who I am? Do I need permission to enter Dragonstone?" he said, pointing at himself in disbelief.


    Jon''s face remained stern. "Anyone entering Dragonstone Ind must have the Princess''s permission."


    Rhaegar''s smile faded. "I didn''t hear you. Say it again," he demanded, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw.


    Jon noticed Rhaegar''s hand on his sword and took a deep breath. "Prince, anyone who wants to..."


    "Jon, shut up!" Rhaenyra''s voice rang out sharply, cutting him off.


    Jon turned to see Rhaenyra hurrying down the winding stairs behind the ck stone gates, followed by a group of guards.


    "Princess!" Jon bowed respectfully.


    Rhaenyra motioned for him to step aside and approached Rhaegar. "He is my newly appointed Navy Commander. He''s still learning," she excused herself.


    "Navy Commander, huh? Quite a title," Rhaegar said with exaggerated dissatisfaction. "Since when do I need permission to set foot on Dragonstone?"


    "Don''t be angry, he doesn''t know any better," Rhaenyra soothed, cing her hand over Rhaegar''s still gripping the hilt of his sword. Dragon w had almost spilled blood.


    She had rushed out of the castle upon hearing the Cannibal''s roar, just in time to witness the standoff.


    "If anyone in King''s Landing dares to treat you like this, I''ll would feed them to the dragons," Rhaegar said, looking Rhaenyra straight in the eye and gently pushed her hand holding his sword.


    Rhaenyra was speechless and waved for everyone to leave.


    Once they were alone, she suggested, "There''s a new hatchling in Dragonmont. Want to see it?"


    "Alright, but we have to leave for Driftmark soon," Rhaegar replied, his tone resigned.


    "It''s fine. The baby dragon is in the castle. It''s beautiful," Rhaenyra said with a smile, pulling him inside.


    ...


    In the main hall of the castle, three dragon eggs of different colors sat in containers on the table.


    "These are the eggs that Syraxid. I''m choosing them for Laena''s children," Rhaenyra said, her eyes sparkling as she caressed each of the eggs.


    "Any two will do," Rhaegar replied absently, his attention focused on the small creature in his hands - a young dragon the size of a house cat. He examined the hatchling carefully, noting its golden pupils, bright silver scales, and slender body. For now, it had no horns or crown.


    "Roar..." The young dragon stretched its neck and let out a soft roar, pping its wings and wriggling in his hands, unafraid of strangers.


    Rhaenyraughed at the sight. "You like this baby dragon?"


    "Of course, every young dragon is a Targaryen treasure," Rhaegar said. "Judging by the color of its scales, it should resemble Meraxes when it grows up."


    "When it gets a little bigger, you can take it back to the Dragonpit," Rhaenyra suggested, reaching out to nudge the dragon cub''s head. The hatchling roared in protest.


    "Careful, the little one has a temper," Rhaegar cautioned.


    Rhaenyra pouted. "Do you want to name it?"


    Rhaegar nodded, though he was known to struggle with names. The name "Cannibal" had been given by the residents of Dragonstone Ind. Seeing his hesitation, Rhaenyra suggested, "Why don''t we just call it Meraxes?"


    The Targaryens often named their dragons after gods of the old Valyrian religion��Balerion, Meraxes, Vhagar, and so on. This included Caraxes and Syrax.


    "I don''t like repeating names," Rhaegar said decisively. "Its scales are bright silver. Let''s call it Stormcloud."


    "A in name," Rhaenyra said, sounding unimpressed.


    "Well, let me take a look at your dragon eggs," Rhaegar said, holding the young dragon, Stormcloud, in his arms as he examined the three dragon eggs. From left to right, they were green, bronze, and red with ck markings.


    "I n to give those two away," Rhaenyra said, pointing to the green and red-and-ck eggs.


    "You chose them?" Rhaegar asked.


    "Yes," Rhaenyra replied, handling the bronze egg carefully. "They are Syrax''s children, and I''m keeping this one for my children''s cradle."


    Rhaegar looked at her, seeing the maternal glow emanating from her. "Good choice. I think it can hatch a new Bronze Fury."


    Rhaegarughed and ced the young dragon, Stormcloud, on the bronze egg. The bronze was more golden, simr to Vermithor, who had begun with light golden scales that had darkened over the years to a powerful dark gold.


    After selecting the eggs, a Dragonkeeper took the young Stormcloud and the bronze-colored egg with him. As the day waned, Rhaegar and Rhaenyra left the castle and headed for Driftmark.


    At dusk, clouds drifted across the sky, resembling maple leaves against the setting sun. Walking on the Stepstones, the sea breeze blew against their faces, mixing with the salty, fishy smell of the ocean.


    "Roar..." A low roar came from above, and a dragon shadow appeared briefly in the clouds and mist. Rhaegar looked up, but could not see the dragon.


    Not paying much attention, he continued up the stairs until a strong wind blew from behind him, causing his hair to flutter. He turned to see a light gray dragon standing behind him, its wings outstretched.


    "Gray Ghost!"

 Chapter 197: Taming A Second Dragon?

    Chapter 197: Taming A Second Dragon?


    Seeing the dragon in front of him, Rhaegar called out its name in one breath, "Gray Ghost."


    "Roar..." The Gray Ghost roared, tilting its head, its pupils scrutinizing him.


    "Does it appear often?" Rhaenyra asked, observing the Gray Ghost.


    Thest time Rhaegar had seen the Gray Ghost was two years ago, during a night spent on Dragonstone Ind when it had briefly appeared in the clouds.


    Rhaenyra stepped in front of Rhaegar, her voice cautious. "The Gray Ghost has always been active around the reef piles on the east coast. It neveres near the castle."


    After many years, the Gray Ghost had matured past the stage of a young dragon. Its light gray scales, white wing membranes, and backward-curved gray horns gave it a distinctive appearance.


    Its slim and even body was about the same size as Sunfyre, marking it as a young dragon.


    Ta Ta...


    The Gray Ghost pped its wings and moved, its hind feet stepping on the stone paths as it cautiously approached the siblings, never taking its eyes off Rhaegar. Its long neck stretched out, sniffing at the two of them.Suddenly, the Gray Ghost''s pupils glowed, and it raised its head to roar in joy.


    Rhaenyra was taken aback. "Rhaegar, why do I feel like it''s celebrating?"


    "I feel the same way," Rhaegar replied. He gently pushed down Rhaenyra''s arm, which she had raised protectively in front of her chest, and took a step towards the Gray Ghost.


    Man and dragon were only a dozen meters apart, and soon they were face to face. The Gray Ghost watched his movements, folded its wings, and prostrated itself on the stone steps.


    Rhaegar approached it slowly, extended a hand, and tentatively said, "Courageous little dragon, do you still remember me?"


    Their first encounter had been at Dragonmont when he saved the Gray Ghost from bing prey while trying to tame Cannibal.


    "Roar..." The Gray Ghost responded to Rhaegar''s voice, its breath filling the air with a salty, fishy smell.


    "Ugh! It stinks!" Rhaegar eximed, pinching his nose and closing his eyes against the foul wind.


    As the roar ended, Rhaegar felt a cold, rough touch against his palm. He opened his eyes and saw the Gray Ghost rubbing its head against his hand.


    "Rhaegar, the Gray Ghost is very close to you," Rhaenyra said cautiously, shocked.


    Dragons were solitary creatures. One person could usually only tame one dragon unless the dragon died, allowing for a new bond.


    Rhaegar had been with Cannibal for many years, and other dragons, including the Gray Ghost, typically wouldn''t show affection towards him. But now, the Gray Ghost''s eyes were full of affection for Rhaegar.


    "Maybe it''s because I saved it," Rhaegar mused, smiling as he hugged the Gray Ghost''s head, stroking its scales.


    Over the years, whenever he visited Dragonstone Ind, he had felt a gaze watching him. Now he realized it had been the Gray Ghost observing him from the shadows.


    "Courageous little dragon, do you also want to be my partner?" Rhaegar asked, pleased with the dragon''s intimacy.


    "Roar..."


    The Gray Ghost lifted its head from Rhaegar''s stroking hand, reluctantly shook it, and gazed towards the end of the long stone stairs. Rhaegar followed the dragon''s gaze to the ck stone gate of Dragonstone Ind.


    He realized the Gray Ghost was indicating that Rhaegar already had a dragon.


    Understanding this, Rhaegar said regretfully, "Unfortunately, I was hoping to ride on your back and fly for a while."


    The rule of one man, one dragon had been established since the days of the Freehold. No one could control two dragons.


    "Roar..."


    The Gray Ghost''s eyes shed with thought. It twisted its body and used its flexible tail to wrap around Rhaegar''s waist.


    "Rhaegar!" Rhaenyra cried out in rm as the Gray Ghost lifted Rhaegar and ced him on its smooth spine.


    Stunned, Rhaegar asked, "Gray Ghost, are you offering me a ride?"


    The Gray Ghost raised its head proudly and spread its wings.


    Seeing this, Rhaenyra reached out and shouted in surprise, "Rhaegar, hold my hand!"


    Rhaegar extended his hand, and with a strong pull, he helped Rhaenyra onto the dragon''s back.


    "Roar..."


    As soon as Rhaenyra was securely on the dragon''s back, the Gray Ghost roared and soared into the sky.


    "Be careful, Gray Ghost doesn''t listen to me," Rhaegar warned,ughing as he held Rhaenyra close.


    "You''re the only one brave enough to ride a wild dragon!" Rhaenyra''s heart raced as she experienced her first ride on a wild dragon.


    The Gray Ghost flew swiftly, its bnced body easily maneuvering through the air, diving into thin clouds. The two of themughed and screamed, bathed in the light of the setting sun.


    As the sun dipped below the horizon, a loud roar echoed across Dragonstone Ind. Cannibal''s roar carried a strong sense of warning.


    The Gray Ghost, trembling at the sound, fear evident in its eyes, quickly descended andnded on the Stepstones near the ck stone gate. The memory of the ck dragon that once hunted it was still vivid.


    Once theynded, Rhaegar helped Rhaenyra to her feet and they slid down the dragon''s wing.


    Stroking Gray Ghost''s wing, Rhaegar smiled and said, "Cannibal is angry. This is as far as we go."


    "Roar..."


    The Gray Ghost looked at Rhaegar onest time before turning and flying towards the east coast of Dragonstone Ind.


    "It''s jealous," Rhaenyra said, amused.


    "Maybe," Rhaegar replied, watching the Gray Ghost until it disappeared into the clouds.


    Other than Cannibal, no dragon had ever been this close to him. Even Syrax avoided Cannibal out of fear.


    In high spirits, Rhaegar took Rhaenyra''s hand and said, "Let''s go. Your two adopted daughters are still waiting for their dragon eggs."


    "Hmph, I only care about my future children," Rhaenyra teased, tossing her long hair as she strode towards the ck stone gate.


    Rhaegar''s eyes gleamed with understanding as he followed her.


    ...


    Night had fallen, and the stars were faint in the sky.


    Driftmark, High Tide.


    "Rhaenyra, you''re finally here!"


    Rhaenyra and Rhaegar walked into the grand hall of High Tide, greeted warmly by Laena, who had been waiting eagerly.


    Seeing Rhaegar, Laena curtsied gracefully and smiled, "Cousin, you''re equally wee."


    Her demeanor remained poised and elegant, showing no sign of impropriety.


    "I should be at the Stepstones, but I came on a mission," Rhaegar chuckled.


    He admired Laena''sposure, as if her rtionship with her husband, Daemon, and their familial ties were purely cordial.


    "There''s no need for formality with me. Quickly bring out the eggs; I''m here to adopt a daughter," Rhaenyra said with a warm smile, extending her hand to Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar took off the case strapped to his back and opened it, revealing two dragon eggs.


    The Space Bracelet couldn''t hold living things, so the eggs had been carried by Rhaegar himself.


    At the sight of the eggs, Laena''s smile widened, and she embraced Rhaenyra gratefully.


    A maid quickly went upstairs to fetch the nanny and bring down the two children.


    Seizing the moment, Rhaegar discussed the ongoing war in the Stepstones and the challenges of transporting goods and supplies.

 Chapter 198: Helaena and Dreamfyre

    Chapter 198: Hena and Dreamfyre


    One monthter


    Stepstones Ind


    "Roar..."


    A ck dragon and a light silver dragon glided through the air andnded on Bloodstone Ind.


    "The prince is back, make way!"


    The soldiers, recognizing the ck dragon, hurriedly stepped back and warned the neers to keep their distance. Dragons were formidable creatures, best admired from afar.


    In the past month, thendscape of Bloodstone Ind had changed dramatically. Several towering watchtowers now dotted the coastline, vigntly scanning the seas. Rows of barricades lined the beach, ready to thwart any enemy attempts tond. The rocky caves in the mountains had been explored, with the high ground chosen for the construction of cave fortresses. Tents were pitched, and soldiers sat around fires, diligently polishing their weapons.


    Rhaegar surveyed the bustling camp, then dismounted his dragon.


    "Cousin, let''s go to the tent first," Laenor suggested as he dismounted from his own dragon, a smile on his face.He had grown fond of his cousin. Of course, it wasn''t an attraction in the romantic sense. Rhaegar was handsome, of noble birth, and had a powerful dragon at hismand. He was also kind and easygoing, making those around him feel at ease.


    Rhaegar brushed back his long hair andughed softly. "Good. Lord Corlys is healed. It''s time to formte a n to counterattack the Triarchy."


    Laughing and joking, the two cousins made their way to themand tent.


    Since thest battle to defend Bloodstone Ind, the pirates of the Triarchy had been unusually quiet. In the intervening month, the fortifications around Bloodstone Ind had been nearlypleted. Fleets from Gulltown, Oldtown, and Arbor Ind had arrived to reinforce them.


    Now Bloodstone Ind had more soldiers and generals than ever before, and more than a dozen patrol ships circled the ind daily. Rhaegar and Laenor also rode their dragons to scout the surrounding seas.


    Meanwhile, a few small contingents of pirates had been sent from the Triarchy, but they were easily dispatched. The situation was favorable, making it an opportune moment for a counterattack.


    As they approached the centralmand tent, several young soldiers in fine armor stood guard.


    "Prince!"


    The soldiers greeted Rhaegar as he arrived. One of them, a ck-haired boy, stepped forward and said respectfully, "Prince, Lord Corlys and Ser Tnd are inside."


    Rhaegar nodded. "Robb, how''s it going as amander?"


    Robb''s face was serious. "The brothers of the Second Sons are united in their determination to fight for you."


    "I look forward to seeing your performance," Rhaegar said, patting Robb on the shoulder. Leaning forward, he added with a smile, "I''ve sent someone to take your sister back to the Red Keep. Don''t worry."


    Robb''s face lit up with gratitude. "Thank you, Prince."


    "You serve me well; I can''t let you worry," Rhaegar replied, lifting the curtain and entering the tent.


    Robb quickly held the curtain open for Laenor, then followed them inside. The Second Sons were Rhaegar''s direct subordinate troops, led by Robb. As a mid-rankingmander, he was qualified to join them in the tent for the strategic discussions.


    Rhaegar and Laenor entered the tent and found a long table in the center with a sand table on it. Sea Snake and Tnd sat on either side of the table, neither speaking. Sara, acting as a servant, was quietly wiping the table. When the three inside noticed the neers, they nodded but remained silent.


    Rhaegar and Laenor exchanged looks, both sensing the tension. For some reason, Sea Snake and Tnd had been at odds since their arrival on Bloodstone Ind, and the rift had only grown.


    Sea Snake wanted to solidify their position by fortifying Bloodstone Ind and slowly expanding their defenses to Grey Gallows Ind. His strategy was to upy the tworgest inds in the Stepstones, turning them into a stronghold against the Triarchy.


    Tnd, however, strongly disagreed. He argued that maintaining even one ind was already draining the treasury, let alone expanding further. Tnd sought a swift victory, believing that the treasury could not sustain a prolonged conflict.


    Seeing the impasse, Rhaegar shrugged and took a seat. Although he was the king''s heir, he had little experience inmand and preferred to observe and stabilize the army.


    Additionally, Tnd��s contentious stance served his father Viserys�� purpose of keeping the powerful Sea Snake in check.


    After a short wait, more people entered the tent: Rhaenys, Vaemond, Cole, and fleetmanders from various regions. The meeting began with Vaemond reporting, "Pirates of the Three Daughters have been spotted near the Grey Gallows. They may be preparing to attack."


    "Send more patrol ships and stay on guard," Sea Snake replied.


    As Sea Snake spoke, Tnd quickly interjected, leading to another argument between the two. One faction preferred to wait and fortify, while the other advocated taking the initiative. Themanders exchanged nces but remained silent, divided in their loyalties: Cole sided with Tnd, Vaemond remained silent, and Rhaenys remained neutral. Rhaegar and Laenor simply listened, reading the room.


    Rhaegar noted that most of those present seemed eager to end the conflict quickly, suggesting that Sea Snake''s cautious approach was less popr. The argument continued until noon, when the meeting was suspended and everyone left the tent.


    As Rhaegar prepared to leave, Rhaenys handed him a letter. He read it, frowning. "The Dornish want to make peace," he said.


    Rhaenys guessed, "I suspect foul y."


    The letter also mentioned that Lady Jeyne Arryn of the Eyrie had arrived in King''s Landing, expressing gratitude for the King''s assistance in quelling a rebellion. The letter concluded with an invitation for Rhaegar to return to King''s Landing, both to receive the Dornish envoy and to attend a banquet for Lady Jeyne.


    "Dornishmen..." Rhaegar murmured, his eyes shing with suspicion. He doubted their sincerity, knowing them to be a resilient and rebellious folk.


    "Your father needs your advice," Rhaenys urged.


    Rhaegar nodded. "I��ll leave with Cannibal. Keep a close watch on the Triarchy."


    Sara and Robb will stay here on Bloodstone Ind and act as his eyes.


    ...


    King''s Landing, Dragonpit.


    "Dreamfyre, Dracarys!" Hena''s clear, childish voice echoed through the cavernous space.


    "Roar..." Dreamfyre, the majestic blue dragon,y prostrate on the ground, responding with a gentle roar.


    d in a small white dress and deerskin boots, Hena approached Dreamfyre, her light purple eyes filled with determination. She squatted down, gazing into the dragon''s eyes.


    Dreamfyre tolerated her presence and wouldn''t harm her, but it also wouldn��t obey hermands or engage with her beyond passive eptance.


    A low rumble filled the air as the massive doors of the Dragonpit slowly creaked open.


    "Roar..." Dreamfyre''s roar was one of surprise as it rose from the cold floor.


    "Roar!!" The shadow of a dark dragon loomed over the entrance,nding with a gust of wind that swept through the Dragonpit.

 Chapter 199: Alicent’s New Allies

    Chapter 199: Alicent��s New Allies


    As Dreamfyre watched, the Cannibal slowly climbed into the Dragonpit. The Dragonkeepers rushed to calm the nervous Dreamfyre, knowing the Cannibal''s unpredictable nature.


    Hena turned to look at the imposing ck dragon and her eyes lit up as she saw the handsome young man on its back. With a joyful shout, she called out, "Brother!"


    Rhaegar had already spotted Hena��s tiny figure. Dismounting from the Cannibal, he approached her with a smile.


    "Brother, you��re back!" Hena ran up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.


    "I had some things to take care of, so I came back temporarily," Rhaegar said, patting her head affectionately.


    Hena, always diligent and determined, spent countless hours in the Dragonpit with Dreamfyre, dreaming of the day she could ride her dragon.


    "How long will you be here this time?" she asked, her eyes full of hope.


    "I��m not sure, but I should be able to stay for a few more days," Rhaegar replied thoughtfully, bending down to pick her up.


    Hena beamed and nestled her small body against his, delighted by his presence."I have something to show you," Rhaegar said, carrying her over to the Cannibal.


    The Cannibal shook its massive frame, and an iron cage covered with a ck cloth fell to the ground. Rhaegar caught it effortlessly with one hand.


    Hena''s eyes widened with curiosity. "Brother, what��s in the cage?"


    "It��s not a bug, if that��s what you��re worried about," Rhaegar teased.


    "I��m with Dreamfyre every day now. I don��t y with bugs anymore," Hena replied, a little exasperated.


    Since Rhaegar had scolded Aegon thest time, Hena had focused her energy on taming Dreamfyre, abandoning her previous interest in bugs.


    Rhaegar chuckled and unveiled the ck cloth.


    "Roar..." A young dragon with bright silver scales curled up inside the iron cage, roaring at the outside world.


    "It��s a dragon!" Hena eximed in surprise.


    Rhaegar grinned proudly. "A new hatchling from Dragonstone Ind. I named it Stormcloud. It will stay in the Dragonpit from now on."


    "Can Aemond tame it?" Hena immediately thought of her younger brother, who often watched her and Daeron with their dragons, yearning for one of his own.


    "He can give it a try," Rhaegar suggested.


    "Oh, brother, you��re the best!" Hena cheered, nting a kiss on Rhaegar��s cheek.


    Rhaegar wiped his cheek with mock annoyance and called over a Dragonkeeper. "Watch over the young dragon. Its name is Stormcloud."


    "Yes, Prince," the Dragonkeeper replied, lifting the iron cage and carrying the alert young dragon away.


    With Hena still in his arms, Rhaegar returned to the Red Keep.


    ...


    Rhaegar returned to the Red Keep by carriage. When they arrived, Helena followed the caretaker to her room, and the two siblings separated.


    Rhaegar went to his bedroom and called for hot water to be prepared for a bath. All dragons had a sulfurous smell, and the riders picked it up as well.


    As he soaked in the hot water, there was a knock at the door.


    "Knock, knock..."


    Rhaegar, fully immersed in the steaming water, askedzily, "Who is it?"


    "It''s me, Prince," came Erryk''s voice.


    Rhaegar opened his eyes and recognized the voice. Erryk had been charged with protecting Jeyne and opening the Vale''s trade routes. It had been a while since Rhaegar had heard from him, indicating that he must have returned to King''s Landing with Jeyne.


    "Come in, Ser," Rhaegar said.


    The door creaked open and Erryk, dressed in silver armor and white robes, stepped inside. "Prince, the king is giving a banquet for Lady Jeyne and has summoned you."


    "I see," Rhaegar replied. Then he asked, "How is the Mushroom Set Caravan? Is the Vale matter settled?"


    "Tormund has sessfully established the Mushroom Set Caravan in the Vale with Lady Jeyne''s assistance," Erryk reported, admiration in his eyes. "Lady Jeyne has rallied many nobles who suffered during the ck Wedding, and the Vale is now stable."


    "How is Lord Yorbert?" Rhaegar inquired, thinking of Lord Protector of the Vale he had yet to meet.


    "Lord Yorbert is still recovering from his injuries. Lady Jeyne has persuaded him to stay and assist with the administration in the Eyrie," Erryk exined.


    Rhaegar nodded, satisfied. He had expected Yorbert to return home eventually, especially since Jeyne was reiming her authority, making the regent''s role redundant.


    Seeing no further questions, Erryk prepared to leave. However, Rhaegar remembered another matter and asked, "Did you bring that giant descendant back to King''s Landing?"


    "Yes, his name is Porus. He has been very obedient since his capture and is now in the Red Keep," Erryk replied.


    Porus, the half-giant, was a wildling discovered as part of the Mountain ns'' rebellion. Unlike the three-meter-tall half-giant Rhaegar had previously killed, Porus was smarter and had surrendered. King Viserys, impressed by his size, kept him in the Red Keep as a kind of living spectacle and uncredited vassal.


    ...


    The banquet hall buzzed with anticipation as tablesden with food awaited the start of the feast.


    Seated on the main throne, Viserys observed the courtiers'' lively performances.


    Meanwhile, in the back garden, two elegant women sat beneath a canopy of fish motifs.


    Alicent, d in a green dress, held a book in her hand, while Jeyne, in a sleek ck dress, addressed her gently.


    "Your Grace, I''ve prepared some delicacies from the Vale. I hope you''ll enjoy them," Jeyne offered.


    Alicent graciously replied, "Thank you, Jeyne."


    The two were old friends, bonded by their connection to Rhaenyra, who served as a link between them. Despite their age difference��Jeyne being three years older than Rhaenyra and Alicent eight years�� they often corresponded as pen pals.


    However, their rtionship soured after Alicent became the Queen, leading to a rift inmunication.


    Jeyne''s unexpected visit to King''s Landing prompted Alicent''s curiosity. "Jeyne, what brings you here?" she inquired, dispelling formalities.


    Jeyne hesitated momentarily before gesturing to the book in her hand. "Ten Thousand Ships��I recall it''s Rhaenyra''s favorite," she said.


    The book chronicled the journey of the Rhoynar warrior queen, Nymeria, who led her people westward to evade the Valyrian Empire''s invasion. Nymeria, as a prominent figure, also married into House Martell and yed a crucial role in unifying Dorne.


    Rhaenyra idolized Nymeria, finding inspiration in her story.


    "Yes, Nymeria''s tale has always resonated with me," Alicent acknowledged, though her smile held a hint of worry as she attempted to hide the book.


    "Is there a page that is torn out?" But Jeyne was quicker, noticing a torn page.

 Chapter 200: Rhaegar Is a Fat Piece of Meat

    Chapter 200: Rhaegar Is a Fat Piece of Meat


    Jeyne examined the missing page that would have documented Nymeria''s first marriage.


    As she flipped through the book, a nostalgic smile crept across her lips as she recalled the fleeting moments of her teenage years - years that had, in truth, been far from glorious. Skepticism and doubt had shadowed her youth.


    Alicent watched Jeyne calmly, waiting for her to speak. After a brief silence, Jeyne looked up and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I got lost in thought for a moment."


    Alicent responded coolly, "The feast is almost over, Lady Jeyne."


    "I wanted to make a gesture of friendship," Jeyne said quietly. "I did my research beforeing to King''s Landing, and I believe you need an ally."


    "I am the Queen. Do you think I am in trouble?" Alicent''s tone was calm and confident.


    Jeyne replied bluntly, "I''ve heard the term ''Greens.''"


    Alicent''s eyes swept over Jeyne and she snorted, "But you''re wearing a ck dress."


    "With all due respect, I don''t think much of the Greens, and I don''t think they can challenge the Heir," Jeyne said with a knowing smile. "And I''m a confirmed ck, as all seven kingdoms know.""Then why have youe to me?" Alicent''s patience was wearing thin.


    Jeyne''s smile faded, reced by a serious expression. "I will be in King''s Landing for a while. You and I can benefit from each other."


    "I have a husband," Alicent replied, a hint of mockery in her voice. The bond between Jeyne and Jessamyn was well known throughout the Seven Kingdoms.


    "Alicent, you need to face reality - no one will help you but me," Jeyne said seriously. "You fear Rhaegar because of your ambition, and I can help you deal with that fear."


    Alicent once coveted the Iron Throne, but Aegon had no name, no title, and few supporters. She wanted to give up, but she was afraid Rhaegar would get even with her after he ascended the Iron Throne.


    Jeyne''s words struck a chord with Alicent. "If you and I are to form an alliance, what do you bring to the table?" Alicent asked, her eyes narrowing.


    "It''s not just an alliance - it''s mutual support," Jeyne insisted. "You are concerned about your children''s future, and I can help you to secure it."


    Alicent''s expression remained guarded, but she listened intently.


    Jeyne recognized the look on Alicent''s face and knew her instincts were correct.


    "The war for the Stepstones has drained the coffers of the kingdom. Eventually thatnd wille under the rule of the Seven Kingdoms," Jeyne said.


    "If you win the war, you could offer the Stepstones as a fief to Prince Aegon, and I''ll make the arrangements," she continued.


    Alicent frowned. "It''s a barrennd. Even a proud man like Daemon wouldn''t rule it."


    "The King ns to build fortifications there. With its strategic location, it will be a lucrative ce for taxing passing ships," Jeyne argued. "Keeping Prince Aegon away from King''s Landing will prevent him from causing trouble."


    Alicent fell silent, weighing the pros and cons.


    Jeyne pressed on, "When Prince Aemondes of age, I can also secure a fief for him in Gulltown."


    Originally, Gulltown had three noble families. The Shetts and a branch of House Arryn were involved in the rebellion and had fallen out of favor.


    Jeyne intended to install new noble powers to divide House Grafton��s interests. This would bring Alicent to her side and yield significant benefits.


    Alicent was clearly tempted by the idea of securing fiefdoms for her two sons. The importance of the Stepstones was undeniable, otherwise the kingdom wouldn��t have waged war against the Triarchy for years. Gulltown, one of the five major ports in Westeros, was the perfect choice for a fief.


    Breathing slightly heavier, Alicent said seriously, "Your offer is very tempting. What do you want in return?"


    There��s no such thing as a free lunch. Jeyne��s demand must be significant.


    Jeyne smiled, her red lips parting to reveal the answer. "Rhaegar."


    "What?" Alicent froze, not understanding.


    Jeyne expected this reaction. She slowly stood up, a smile ying on her lips. "Rhaegar will be the king of the Seven Kingdoms. I want to be his queen."


    Alicent was even more confused, her thoughts in turmoil.


    For half a second, Alicent stood numbly, gripping the book in her hand tightly. Her eyes turned cold. "You��re delusional. Rhaegar only has eyes for Rhaenyra. I won��t help you."


    For some reason, whenever Rhaenyra was involved, Alicent became subconsciously agitated.


    Jeyne��s eyes glinted as she tilted her head. "In what capacity are you saying this? As Alicent or as the Queen?"


    Alicent was Rhaenyra��s best friend, but as the Queen, she was the person Rhaenyra hated the most.


    Alicent was momentarily stunned, confusion shing in her eyes. Compared to Jeyne, who aimed to challenge Rhaenyra, Alicent was the first to betray her.


    Alicent suddenlyughed. "To have friends like us, Rhaenyra is truly unfortunate."


    ...


    Banquet Hall


    Rhaegar hurried to the feast to entertain the bannermen who had traveled from all over the realm. Aegon was also present, though he sat alone in a corner, nursing a ss of wine, far from the Hightower entourage.


    Bang...


    The doors swung open, and the rhythmic drumming of the Kingsguard filled the hall. "Lady Jeyne of House Arryn, Lady of the Eyrie and Warden of the East," a herald announced.


    Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Jeyne entered with grace and elegance. nking her were Rhaenyra and Alicent, one on each side, their presencemanding attention.


    Jeyne and Alicent wore their usual attire, while Rhaenyra wore a striking red strapless gown, her silver hair intricately braided, her violet eyes sparkling.


    "The Vale greet you, Your Grace," Jeyne curtsied to Viserys.


    "House Arryn is a valued ally. No need for formalities," Viserys replied warmly, obviously pleased.


    Jeyne stepped back and, without acknowledging Rhaenyra or Alicent, made her way directly to Rhaegar.


    It was time for the dance.


    The nobles paired off, and the atmosphere grew lively with music and conversation. Jeyne held out her hand to Rhaegar with a smile. "Aren''t you going to ask me to dance?"


    Rhaegar looked around the room. The musicians were ying lively tunes and couples were dancing happily. After a moment''s hesitation, he took her hand and warned, "I''m not much of a dancer."


    "Just follow my lead. I''ll guide you," Jeyne reassured him, her smile sweet and encouraging.


    As they moved to the center of the hall and began to dance, Jeyne ced her hands on Rhaegar''s shoulders. "The dance is much like a battlefield," she whispered. "The difference is there''s no blood."


    Rhaegar chuckled, puzzled by her analogy, but as he pondered her words, he missed a step and stepped on Jeyne''s foot. "I told you, I''m not much of a dancer," he apologized.


    Jeyne flinched but remained determined. "Take your time. We have plenty of it."


    "I''m not one to waste time on things I''m not good at," Rhaegar muttered, continuing to dance awkwardly.


    Jeyne gritted her teeth and clung to Rhaegar''s clothing, refusing to give up.


    From a distance, Rhaenyra watched them with a puzzled expression. She hadn''t yet understood her friend''s intentions.


    "Rhaegar seems to be enjoying himself," Alicent observed, approaching with a ss of wine.


    "Of course he is," Rhaenyra replied with a hint of sarcasm. "He''s probably crushing Jeyne''s feet."


    In just one dance, Rhaegar had already stepped on Jeyne several times, and Rhaenyra couldn''t help butugh. Rhaegar had always been reserved, uninterested in parties, and bad at dancing.


    Alicent sighed, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "Aren''t you suspicious at all?"


    Rhaenyra turned to her, puzzled. "What do you mean?"


    Alicent never spoke lightly. Their years of enmity had taught them both to be careful with words.


    Alicent gestured to Jeyne. "She has proposed to your father. The candidate is Rhaegar."


    "Are you sure?" Rhaenyra asked, her disbelief obvious.


    Alicent nodded, enjoying Rhaenyra''s shock. "Jeyne wants Rhaegar. Don''t tell me you didn''t see that."


    Rhaenyra remembered her recent conversation with Jeyne in Runestone. She had sensed Jeyne''s interest in Rhaegar, but had hoped her warning would deter her. Clearly, it hadn''t.


    "Thank you for the information, Alicent," Rhaenyra said, taking a deep breath before walking over to the dancing couple.


    "You''re wee, Rhaenyra," Alicent replied, sipping her wine with satisfaction. She had agreed to help Jeyne, but she couldn''t resist keeping Rhaenyra informed. ying both sides allowed her to profit from the unfolding drama and sit back and watch the conflict unfold.


    ...


    Viserys savored the sizzlingmb at the main table, his eyes fixed on Rhaegar dancing with Jeyne. His wide smile revealed his contentment. He adored his eldest son, who was not only handsome and intelligent, but also skilled in the martial arts.


    Rhaegar''s exceptional qualities were a rarity in House Targaryen. Unlike Viserys, his grandfather Baelon or his great-grandfather Jaehaerys, Rhaegar bore a resemnce to two of their most legendary ancestors:


    Aegon the Conqueror and Maegor the Cruel. Perhaps he also reflected Aegon Targaryen, the eldest son of Aenys I, who was murdered by Maegor.


    These men were characterized by wisdom, courage, and a strong sense of duty, in contrast to Viserys and his immediate predecessors, who often indulged in pleasures in addition to their responsibilities.


    Seeing Rhaegar dancing was a rare sight. It pleased Viserys to witness his son embracing the social joys of being with a woman, especially one of Jeyne Arryn''s stature.


    Jeyne, as the Lady of the Eyrie and the head of House Arryn, held significant influence. Moreover, she had no parents or brothers, making her an ideal match.


    Whoever married her would gain control of the Vale and secure their descendants as legitimate heirs to House Arryn and itsnds.


    As Viserys enjoyed the moment, a sudden movement caught his eye. Rhaenyra was making her way through the crowd, her expression determined.


    She headed straight for the center of the dance floor in a aggressive manner.

 Chapter 201: Jeyne’s Temptation

    Chapter 201: Jeyne��s Temptation


    "Rhaenyra!" Viserys murmured, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he watched the scene unfold.


    Amidst the lively music, many dancing partners began to flirt with each other.


    "Ohhhh!" Jeyne whimpered as Rhaegar stepped on her foot again. He remained expressionless, not even bothering to apologize this time.


    "Don''t rush, dance with your heart," Jeyne said, forcing a smile despite the difort.


    Rhaegar''s movements were stiff. One hand held Jeyne''s waist while the other awkwardly guided her back. His steps were disorganized,cking the agility he disyed in battle.


    His forehead was deeply furrowed, almost forming a permanent crease. All he wanted was for the music to stop so he could return to his unfinished te of red grapes.


    "Rhaegar!" Rhaenyra''s cool voice cut through the air.


    Rhaegar and Jeyne turned to her at the same time.


    "Jeyne, perhaps you should find another partner," Rhaenyra said, stepping between them and pulling Rhaegar behind her, her gaze fixed on Jeyne.Meeting her gaze, Jeyne felt the hostility and took a step back.


    Rhaenyra ced Rhaegar''s hands on her waist and said with a forced smile, "If you want to learn to dance, I''ll teach you."


    "Forget it," Rhaegar muttered, recognizing her anger and not wanting to provoke her further. Stepping on twodies in one evening was bad enough.


    After a moment''s hesitation, Jeyne also suggested, "Rhaenyra, why don''t we get some rest?"


    "Shut up!" Rhaenyra snapped. She grabbed a waiter''s tray, pointed to a ss of red wine, and threatened, "If you say another word, I''ll spill that wine on your white dress."


    Jeyne, startled, covered her mouth and backed away.


    At that moment, Rhaenyra resembled a fierce lioness protecting her cub, radiating an intimidating aura. Jeyne wisely decided to leave the dance floor.


    Rhaenyra turned her attention to Rhaegar and scolded him, "Useless!"


    Rhaegar looked innocent, not daring to speak back. Despite his bravery on the battlefield, he feared Rhaenyra in this mood.


    Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around his waist, forcing him to hold her as well. "Dance," she ordered, "if you step on me, I''ll cut off your toes."


    "Okay, okay, just calm down," Rhaegar whispered, trying to calm her down. He moved carefully, trying his best to follow her lead.


    ...


    As Jeyne walked out of the dancing crowd, her heart pounded with a mix of nervousness and excitement. For a moment, she felt intimidated by Rhaenyra, realizing that her actions were akin to a thief caught in the act.


    Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Jeyne smoothed her thoughts and looked towards the king on his throne. With no progress made with Rhaegar, she decided to start with a more pragmatic approach.


    "Your Grace, may I request to join the Small Council to aid in governance?" she asked, approaching Viserys with an air of elegance.


    She had subtly broached the topic of a potential marriage to Rhaegar, as Alicent had suggested. Though neither party had explicitlymitted to it, the implicit exchange of meanings left the possibility open. Even if it didn''t work out, no harm woulde to either side.


    Viserys, watching his eldest son dance awkwardly, smiled brightly. "No problem. You can learn a lot at the Small Council meetings," he agreed, allowing Jeyne to stay in King''s Landing.


    This was a small step towards the potential marriage, depending on Rhaegar''s feelings for Jeyne.


    Unlike Rhaenyra, Rhaegar didn''t need a powerful background to marry. Viserys wanted to respect his son''s personal wishes.


    Jeyne took a seat, her eyesnding on Alicent beside Viserys. Rhaenyra''s initial indifference to her dancing with Rhaegar had changed, suggesting someone''s influence was behind it.


    Alicent leaned close to her husband. "Viserys, the children are grown. They should be prepared for marriage."


    Viserys looked pensive. "I promised Rhaenyra she could choose her own marriage."


    "You know I''m talking about Rhaegar and Aegon," Alicent insisted. "Both boys are of age. It''s time to find good matches."


    "I recall your uncle''s family has a daughter with ns to marry into the royal family?" Viserys assumed Alicent had family interests at heart.


    "No, there are many girls in Westeros waiting to marry, not just from my family," Alicent said, leaning closer. "How about Aegon marrying Jeyne?"


    Viserys froze in shock, then burst intoughter. "Hahaha, you''re such a joker, Alicent!"


    He nced at the demure Jeyne, then at Aegon, who was sipping mulled wine in a corner. The idea of marrying the Warden of the East to his second son was ridiculous, even more so than naming Rhaenyra as his heir.


    Alicent''s face darkened at her husband''s mockery. "What about Rhaegar''s marriage to Jeyne?" she pressed.


    "Is the joke over?" Viserys dodged the question, ncing at Jeyne.


    Sensing the tension, Jeyne stood abruptly. "Since I cannot drink, I will take my leave."


    "Take care, Lady Jeyne," Viserys replied politely.


    Jeyne smiled as she watched Rhaegar leave the dance floor and the banquet hall. She hadn''t heard Alicent''sst words, but ording to their agreement, Alicent was supposed to help with the proposal. She should have avoided such a scene.


    ...


    The dance ended, and Rhaegar returned to his seat, finally able to catch his breath. He silently vowed never to be coaxed into dancing again, especially with the lingering threat of Rhaenyra chopping off his toes.


    As if sensing his thoughts, Rhaenyra nced at him with a scowl.


    "Uh... I''m tired. I''ll go back to rest now," Rhaegar said, unable to bear her look any longer as he stood up reluctantly. He still had to deal with the peace envoy from Dorne and needed to gather his strength.


    "Get some rest," Rhaenyra reminded him gently, watching his retreating figure disappear around the corner.


    ...


    The dimly lit hallway was faintly illuminated by the oilmps mounted on the walls. Rhaegar walked slowly, reflecting on the events of the banquet and arriving at a conclusion: Jeyne hade for him.


    "Rhaegar," a voice called from behind him. Jeyne stood in front of a door, looking at him with a mixture of anguish and hope.


    Rhaegar''s eyes held a questioning look as he met her gaze.


    "There''s a rat in the room, a big one," she said weakly, pointing at the door. A trace of fear flickered across her face. "The guards are all in the hall. Can you check for me?"


    Rhaegar''s eyes flickered with skepticism as he analyzed her request. After spending a month with Laenor, he had learned a few things.


    For example, Laenor had once mentioned that men would sometimes lure beautiful women into their rooms by iming that there was a fire-breathing dragon inside. Laenor had sessfully bedded several men that way.


    After a moment of silence, watching the disappointment in Jeyne''s eyes, Rhaegar sighed. "You win, I go in."


    After all, Jeyne was a guest and of his grandfather''s bloodline. To ignore her would be rude.


    The Red Keep did indeed have a rat problem. The pest were so rampant that they sometimes slept in people''s arms. Rhaegar himself had been scratched by a rat as a boy.


    "Thank you," Jeyne said, quickly stepping aside to let him enter.


    Rhaegar nced around the dimly lit room with only the firece flickering. He stepped inside and lit the tallow candles that hung on the walls.


    "Where''s the rat?" he asked, scanning the room.


    Jeyne didn''t answer. Instead, the door mmed behind him.


    Rhaegar''s ears twitched, and he immediately turned around. A soft body pressed against him, arms wrapping tightly around his waist.


    Just as he was about to speak, warm lips met his, and a tongue pried open his mouth. Rhaegar''s mind buzzed, and his eyes widened in shock.


    In his line of sight were Jeyne''s flushed cheeks. She radiated not only her usual noble elegance but also a newfound charm and allure.


    Hot blood surged through him, and he didn''t break away immediately. The passionate kisssted for a while before they slowly separated, their chests pressed together as they felt each other''s heavy breathing.


    Jeyne blushed, her hands trembling as she unbuttoned Rhaegar''s coat. "Stay here tonight, okay?" she whispered.


    Rhaegar grasped her hands, wrestling with his inner turmoil. He forced himself to remain rational. "You shouldn''t waste your time on me," he said, trying to distance himself.


    "Rhaegar, you''re a thief," Jeyne pressed forward, her hands moving behind her back. "You saved me, and you stole my heart."


    As she spoke, her white dress slipped, catching at her waist, revealing her snowy peaks.


    The sight made Rhaegar''s breath hitch, desire igniting in his eyes. It was blindingly white, rich, and generous.


    Jeyne wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered passionately, "Rhaegar, stay tonight. The Vale and I are yours."


    Relying on the hesitant King and the scheming Alicent had been a mistake. After seeing Rhaenyra''s reaction, Jeyne decided to take matters into her own hands. She abandoned subtlety and struck first.


    Rhaegar stared into Jeyne''s eyes, seeing his reflection in her pupils. He admitted to himself that he was shamefully tempted. The offer of beauty and power was irresistible to many.


    Jeyne''s eyes held more desire than his. She was three years older than Rhaenyra and eleven years older than Rhaegar. In the past, she hadn''t secured her position as Lady and had avoided speaking of marriage.


    Jessamyn could soothe her lonely soul but not her body. She had been waiting for a suitable husband.


    When Rhaegar was six years old, she saw the boy at an exchange meeting. Time passed, and Rhaegar grew up. She wanted him as her husband.


    Seeing Rhaegar''s silence, Jeyne stood on tiptoe, her red lips slightly parted, slowly moving closer.


    "No!" At the critical moment, Rhaegar suddenly awoke. He pushed Jeyne away, leaving her shocked.


    Rhaegar quickly took off his coat and draped it over her. "Thank you for your kindness, but I must remain true to myself."


    With that, he swiftly pushed the door open and left. The door mmed shut behind him.


    In the hallway, Rhaegar turned and bumped into a soft body.

 Chapter 202: Heavy Rain and Dreams

    Chapter 202: Heavy Rain and Dreams


    "Yah!"


    A familiar whimper reached his ears. Rhaegar instinctively scooped her up in his arms.


    Lowering his head, he saw Rhaenyra''s face, wide-eyed and panicked.


    Rhaegar breathed heavily. "What are you doing here?"


    "That''s Jeyne''s room," she said, pointing to the door behind him.


    After her earlier outburst, Rhaenyra regretted her harsh words and wanted to make amends. She had seen Jeyne and Rhaegar enter the room together and followed them.


    Hearing her question, Rhaegar grinned. "Yes, Jeyne''s room. And yet, here I am."


    "You��"


    "Shh! Look at all the stupid things I''ve done for you," Rhaegar interrupted, holding her close to the door.Through the wooden door, they could hear faint, suppressed sobbing.


    Before Rhaenyra could react, Rhaegar swept her into a princess carry and said seriously, "You have to make it up to me!"


    He quickly walked down the corridor, leaving Rhaenyra dumbfounded, clutching his sleeve.


    ...


    Late at night, the Red Keep was brightly lit despite the chill wind and pouring rain. Stories unfolded in the downpour.


    In the early morning, Rhaegar sat on the balcony and gazed through the rain-dampened window at the rainy curtains of King''s Landing.


    Rumbling...


    Thunder echoed, and lightning instantly illuminated the dark, rainy night.


    "Hoo~~"


    Rhaegar blew gently on his hot tea and took a deep sip. The thunder outside sent a shiver down his spine.


    On the nearby bed, a figurey under a thin nket. The person slept soundly, silver hair covering her cheeks, a small arm resting under her head.


    Rhaegar gazed out the window, lost in thought.


    There was a significant change in Rhaegar from just three hours ago. Though his appearance remained the same, he now exuded a different aura��more restrained, tolerant, and calm.


    He had followed his heart, refused Jeyne''s invitation, and stayed true to his principles.


    Putting down his cup, Rhaegar moved to the bed. He gentlyy down beside the sleeping figure, brushing aside the hair covering her cheeks.


    Rhaenyra''s cheeks were flushed, her eyshes moist, her breathing steady.


    Rhaegar sat on the edge of the bed, taking in the delicate scent of fresh incense and tea.


    The night had been quiet, and his mind was at peace.


    Before the age of three, he slept all day long while Rhaenyra sang him lubies. After turning three, he was often alone, hoping for Rhaenyra''s visits when she was in trouble.


    Rhaegar''s heart softened, and he whispered, "You''re so irresistible, I don''t want to part with you for a moment."


    "Don''t be greedy, Rhaegar..."


    Rhaenyra seemed to hear him in her sleep, murmuring softly as she shifted positions.


    Rhaegar smiled, watching her sleeping face.


    His dragon''s may be greedy, but he was not.


    Dun dun dun dun..


    Suddenly, there was a sharp knock on the door.


    Rhaegar sat up quickly, reaching out to cover Rhaenyra''s ears.


    Her eyelids fluttered, and she awoke, her voice hoarse. "Rhaegar, is someone knocking?"


    "I know, you don''t have to get up."


    Rhaegar pressed her shoulder gently and pulled the covers back over her.


    As he walked to the door, he heard Hena''s terrified cries.


    "Brother, open the door......"


    "Hena?"


    Rhaegar froze at the sound, ncing down to check his attire. It was fine; he was wearing pajamas.


    Opening the door, he saw Hena, her face pale and eyes wide with fear.


    Crunch!


    The door opened a palm''s width before Rhaegar could ask Hena why she was crying. She squeezed through the crack like a loach and hurried into the room.


    "Brother, it''s thundering outside and Dayana is in the banquet hall!"


    Without waiting for Rhaegar to answer, Hena hugged him tightly, her words tumbling out between sobs.


    Rhaegar quickly pieced the story together: Dayana, Hena''s maid, had been summoned by Alicent to assist in the banquet hall. With both Alicent and Dayana unavable, and Hena terrified of thunder, she had run to him forfort.


    Rhaegar sighed and gently rubbed her head. "Don''t be afraid, you''ll be a dragon rider in the future. How can you be afraid of thunder?"


    Hena had often run to his room during thunderstorms before. She was genuinely scared.


    Rhaenyra, hearing themotion, tried to sit up but felt weak. Frowning, she clutched the covers around her.


    "Rhaegar, I''m not feeling well."


    She wasn��t just ufortable; she felt surprisingly embarrassed by Hena��s untimely arrival. She was tired and needed rest.


    "Ahem, I''ll take Hena back," Rhaegar said, understanding her meaning. Rhaenyra needed to rest without any disturbances.


    "I don''t want to go. Mommy won''t mind me tonight," Hena said, her voice choking with tears. "Brother, I want to sleep with you."


    "I''ll take you to Aemond and Daeron. They can keep youpany," Rhaegar suggested, not wanting Rhaenyra to be embarrassed.


    Hena let Rhaegar pick her up, biting her pink lips and looking at him pitifully. She was genuinely afraid of the thunder and hoped her brother would take her in.


    "Don''t look at me like that. You''re a big girl now; you can''t sleep with me," Rhaegar exined softly. They used to sleep together when they were little, but things had changed. He suspected Alicent didn''t want Hena getting too close to him.


    Hena curled up in his arms, her face buried in his chest. "But my sister is older than me, and she didn''t leave."


    "That''s different."


    "Rhaegar, let her stay!" Rhaenyra''s voice cut off his defense.


    Rhaegar looked back in surprise, wondering why she had changed her mind.


    Rhaenyra, now wearing a nightgown, leaned back on the bed and beckoned. "Alicent''s too busy to take care of her. Let her stay for the night."


    She couldn''t bear to see Hena''s sad face and didn''t want her saying anything childish outside.


    Rhaegar shrugged. "You''re in charge tonight."


    He carried Hena to the bed and gently set her down. Hena rolled into Rhaenyra''s arms, gratefully saying, "Thank you, Sister."


    Hena recognized who had more influence and tried to curry favor. Rhaenyra''s eyes were yful as she cupped Hena''s cheeks, kneading them gently.


    Hena''s cheeks turned red, and she stammered, not daring to protest.


    "Alright, don''t bully her," Rhaegar intervened, helping Hena escape Rhaenyra��s yful grip.


    "Hmph, I''ll sleep with her in my arms. You can sleep on the floor," Rhaenyra said, her eyes full of warning.


    Rhaegar smiled helplessly and fetched two new quilts��one for the sisters on the bed and one for himself on the floor.


    King��s Landing, being a coastal city, always had a damp climate. Hena''s eyes were heavy with exhaustion. Lying in Rhaenyra��s embrace, she quickly fell into a deep, peaceful sleep, clutching her sister like a soft,forting bear.


    ...


    At the same time, on the Stepstones:


    The wind howled, though there was no heavy rain. Dozens of warships drifted on the sea, their sails bearing the sigils of three red dragons, seahorses, and forked mermaids.


    In the cabin of one of the ships flying the three red dragons'' banner, several figures huddled around a sand table, plotting their next move.


    Tnd, Cole, Vaemond, and the heir to the Manderly House of White Harbor, Medrick Manderly, were among them.


    Tnd pointed to a specific spot on the sand table, his voice charged with excitement. "ording to our scouts, the pirates of the Triarchy are hiding on this deserted ind. We can sneak over under the cover of darkness and catch them by surprise."


    Medrick Manderly, rugged and loud, chimed in, "That''s right! Let''s strike the Triarchy and forget about defense!"


    "Medrick, watch yournguage!" Vaemond warned, lifting his head.


    Medrick''s enthusiasm did not offend Tnd, who interjected, "Don''t be nervous, Vaemond. Medrick means no harm. Lord Corlys has been overly cautious, and his dy is costing us. We need to take decisive action to repel the Triarchy."


    Vaemond snorted, folding his hands behind his back. Though he respected his brother Corlys, his presence on this ship indicated his disagreement with the Sea Snake''s strategy.


    House Vryon had sacrificed too much in this war, losing ships, sailors, and soldiers in great numbers. Vaemond was here to secure the future of his house and win the war, not to let time slip away.


    Seeing Vaemond��s internal conflict, Tnd straightened up and said confidently, "Ser Vaemond, we have the King''s support, White Harbor��s fleet, and a portion of Vryon''s ships. A night attack on the Triarchy''s garrison will surely seed."


    Cole remained silent, his eyes glittering with determination as he clutched the hilt of his sword. Tnd''s words had moved him.


    He longed for the glory of war and the honor of returning to King''s Landing victorious.


    "My scouts confirm that the forces of the Triarchy are gathered here. This n is feasible," Vaemond said solemnly. "With forty-three ships, five thousand soldiers, and plenty of arrows and oil, we stand a good chance."


    Having apanied his brother on numerous voyages and participated in thest battle of the Stepstones, Vaemond was well versed in battlefieldmand and navalbat. He believed his tactical skills rivaled his brother''s.


    Tnd took a deep breath, his expression firm. "Then it''s settled. Tonight we will attack the Triarchy''s camp under cover of darkness. A swift end to this war is our best course of action."


    With Tnd''s strategic advice and Vaemond''s naval expertise, backed by their formidable fleet, victory seemed within reach.


    "Haha, I can''t wait to see my father''s face when we crush the Triarchy''s pirates," Medrick Manderlyughed, pping his round belly.


    ...


    Bloodstone Ind.


    A messenger, frantic and out of breath, demanded to see the Sea Snake, who was roused from his slumber and quickly summoned the man.


    Terrified, the messenger ryed the urgent news: Tnd and the others had left the ind by boat and were nowhere to be found.


    "Fools! How dare they disobey orders and venture out on their own!" the Sea Snake bellowed, his face darkening with anger.


    He had ess to the same intelligence as Tnd and Vaemond. The prospect of ambushing the Triarchy''s pirate stronghold was undeniably tempting, but the rewards were fraught with peril.


    Enraged, the Sea Snake''s expression grew even grimmer. He shouted, "Prepare the army immediately! War is upon us!"

 Chapter 203: Shocking Bad News

    Chapter 203: Shocking Bad News


    The next day.


    Morning sunlight streamed into the bedroom, casting a soft glow.


    Rhaenyra sat on the balcony, wrapped in a loose nightgown. She held a steaming cup of tea, gazing serenely at the scene outside. The weather in King''s Landing was exceptionally clear after the heavy rain, the garden alive with swaying fish beams and chirping birds.


    Turning back, she saw Rhaegar sleeping soundly on the carpet, a small white ball nestled on his chest. A tender smile graced her lips as she sipped her tea, unaware of the troubled expression creasing his brow.


    Rhaegar was trapped in a vivid dream.


    Dark clouds swirled and a fierce wind drove sheets of rain. The sky was darkened, plunging the world into chaos. A sharp dragon roar pierced the air as a young, green-scaled dragon emerged from the storm, wings pping wildly.


    On the dragon''s back was a small saddle upied by a young boy, perhaps seven or eight years old. Rhaegar''s vision zoomed in, drawn by an inexplicable urgency.


    The boy had short, silver-blonde hair, pale purple eyes, and a face that was both handsome and childlike. Recognition struck Rhaegar; the boy looked almost exactly like he had at that age. The resemnce was uncanny, a near mirror image of his childhood self.


    Compelled to understand, Rhaegar''s attention fixed on the boy.In the midst of the storm, the boy bravely faced the elements. His short hair whipped about, his clothes soaked, the rain stinging his face. He struggled to keep his eyes open against the deluge.


    "Run!" the boy cried, wiping the rain from his face. He seemed to call the young dragon by name, but the sound was lost to Rhaegar.


    The young dragon roared in panic, battling the torrential rain as it flew.


    Rumble...


    After a sh of lightning and a roar of thunder, a huge shadow loomed over the boy and his dragon. The shadow, many timesrger than the young dragon,pletely enveloped them.


    The boy noticed the huge shadow above them, and his face turned pale with fear. He urged the young dragon to fly faster.


    Suddenly, a jagged reef appeared ahead. The boy skillfully steered the dragon into the reef, avoiding the giant pursuer.


    Momentster, the young dragon emerged from the reef. The sky cleared, the wind and rain stopped, and thin clouds drifted by.


    The young dragon soared above the clouds, having finally lost his pursuer.


    The boy sighed with relief, a triumphant smile spreading across his face.


    But then...


    "ROAR!!!"


    A deafening dragon roar echoed as a colossal green dragon burst from beneath the clouds. It grabbed the young dragon''s neck in its jaws and crushed it with a sickening crunch.


    The young dragon uttered onest agonized scream before his headless body plummeted through the clouds and into the sea.


    The boy, chained to the dragon, fell beside it.


    "No!"


    Rhaegar''s heart pounded as he cried out, his voice breaking the dream''s fragile hold.


    The dreamscape began to copse. Rhaegar tried desperately to hold on to it, but it slipped away.


    As the [Dream Vision] faded, he caught ast glimpse of the green dragon. Its body was massive and powerful, its scales thick and imprable. On its back sat a silver-haired man, his face obscured, but his wildughter echoing in Rhaegar''s ears.


    Then the dream shattered.


    Rhaegar jerked awake, his eyes snapping open.


    "Rhaegar, you''re awake?"


    Rhaenyra''s voice reached him instantly.


    "Rhaenyra..." Rhaegar turned to face her, a hint of panic in his eyes. He vividly remembered the dream, the boy who looked so much like him meeting a tragic end.


    "Shh! She''s still sleeping, don''t wake her," Rhaenyra whispered, pointing to his chest.


    Rhaegar looked down.


    Hena was curled up on his chest, sound asleep.


    "I had a nightmare again," Rhaegar murmured, carefully sitting up while holding Hena.


    Hena stirred slightly, her face flushed and her lips moving in a sleepy murmur.


    Rhaenyra knelt beside him, concern in her eyes. "What dream did you have? You''re drenched in sweat."


    "Yes..." Rhaegar began, but hesitated. He looked at Rhaenyra, her eyes warm and attentive as she gently wiped away his sweat.


    "Nothing, just a nightmare, something like Maegor''s kinying," Rhaegar said vaguely, holding Hena close as he slowly got to his feet. He didn''t want to share the gruesome details of his dream.


    "Never mind, you can tell me when you''re ready," Rhaenyra said softly, not pushing him any further.


    Rhaegar often had nightmares, many of which he kept to himself.


    He smiled apologetically, his heart still pounding. Heid Hena gently on the bed and covered her with a nket.


    "Let''s get going. We have to meet the Dornish envoy today," Rhaenyra reminded him, opening the wardrobe and pulling out one of Rhaegar''s usual outfits.


    Rhaegar hugged her from behind. "Aren''t youing with me?"


    "Where?" Rhaenyra gave him an annoyed look, holding up the red strapless dress she had hastily discarded the night before.


    Rhaegar grinned sheepishly, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and amusement.


    ...


    The sun was just rising.


    Rhaegar had barely finished dressing when a frantic knock came at the door.


    "Prince, something big has happened!"


    Erryk''s urgent voice called out, "The ravens have brought dire news��the Stepstones Inds have fallen!"


    "What!?"


    Rhaegar eximed in shock, throwing open the door.


    Erryk stood there, his expression grave. "The Stepstones Inds are in chaos. Lord Corlys is seriously injured. The King has summoned you to an emergency council meeting."


    "Hurry!" Rhaegar shouted, clenching his fists as he rushed out the door.


    His mind raced with questions. How could this have happened? Was the Sea Snake losing his mind? He had only been away for a day and a night, and already everything had gone wrong.


    Rhaegar sprinted to the council chamber.


    Erryk opened the door for him, and Rhaegar stepped inside.


    The room was full of people��King Viserys, Lyonel Strong, Otto Hightower, and several other lords. Seated among them was Jeyne Arryn.


    Though she had changed into a simple dress and her long chestnut hair was tied up in a braid, her eyes were red and swollen from crying.


    Rhaegar ignored the scene and asked urgently, "Lords, what exactly has happened?"


    The Battle of the Stepstones had been ongoing for a long time and had stabilized for a month. How could it have suddenly turned into a disaster?


    "Rhaegar, sit down first. We are still discussing the situation," Viserys said gravely, gripping a cup tightly.


    Rhaegar scanned the room, took his seat, and ced the stone marker from the tray in front of him.


    Jeyne, seated next to him, gave him a small, reassuring smile.


    Lyonel Strong stood first, holding a letter. "Last night, Lord Tnd Lannister, in conjunction with Vaemond Vryon, Medrick Manderly, and Ser Criston Cole, conspired to raid the Triarchy pirate stronghold."


    "It was an ambush. The Triarchy pirates had set a trap for them."


    "Lord Corlys tried to stop them but ultimately had to lead his troops in support."


    Lyonel''s face grew grim as he continued, "Our warships lost more than half their number, and seven thousand soldiers were killed. Medrick Manderly died, and Corlys Vryon was gravely injured and is now unconscious."


    To make matters worse, Bloodstone Ind''s defenses copsed, allowing the Triarchy pirates to plunder it. The remaining forces have retreated to Grey Gallows and are trying to hold the line.


    The chamber fell silent.


    The loss of ships and soldiers was devastating, but the potential death of Sea Snake, the navy''smander, left the forces leaderless.


    Viserys mmed his fist on the table, shouting angrily, "Where are the dragons? There were supposed to be two dragons at the Stepstones!"


    "Your Grace, please remain calm," Lyonel urged. "ording to the reports, the night was too dark, and the Triarchy pirates had prepared arge number of scorpion crossbows.


    Princess Rhaenys and her son, Ser Laenor, were heavily constrained, making it difficult for the dragons to be effective."


    From the letter, it was clear that if not for the dragons destroying more than a dozen pirate ships and breaking the encirclement, Tnd and the Sea Snake might have been killed.


    "Foolishness! Sheer idiocy!" Viserys roared. "Tnd dared to mobilize the army without authorization��this is a capital offense against military rules!"


    To mobilize the army without orders was tantamount to rebellion. What infuriated Viserys even more was that Vaemond and the others had recklessly followed Tnd''s lead.


    Grand Maester Mellos spoke slowly, "Your Grace, the situation at the Stepstones is critical. We must devise a strategy to deal with it."


    "I know that!" Viserys snapped, his voice echoing in the hall. He turned to Lyonel, "Dismiss Tnd from his post as Master of Ships and summon him back to King''s Landing for judgment!"


    Viserys seethed with anger at the Lannister''s ipetence. He had hoped Tnd would prove wiser than his arrogant brother, but he had nearly brought the kingdom to ruin.


    "Father, please calm yourself," Rhaegar interjected, rubbing his face in frustration. "Lord Lyonel, how many troops do we have left?"


    The damage was done, and they couldn''t change the past. They needed to address the crisis at hand before seeking retribution.


    Lyonel answered, "ording to the reports, only remnants of the fleets from the Crownds, House Vryon, and House Manderly of White Harbor remain."


    "The fleets from Oldtown, Arbor Ind, and Gulltown retain some strength, with abined total of fifty ships and three thousand eight hundred soldiers."


    Rhaegar pressed further, "How are our supplies?"


    Lyonel sighed heavily, "There is little left after the Triarchy pirates'' plunder.


    The pirates had stripped thends bare, leaving nothing but devastation in their wake.


    Rhaegar closed his eyes, his mind racing. They faced a dire situation - limited troops, dwindling supplies, and the ever-present threat of the Triarchy.


    After a few moments, he opened his eyes and addressed the council, "Lords, we must redeploy our remaining forces and transport supplies to the Stepstones. We cannot afford to lose this war."


    Turning to Lyonel, he asked, "How many more soldiers can we muster from the Crownds and the Rivends?"


    Those regions were closest to King''s Landing, and reinforcements and supplies could be transported quickly.

 Chapter 204: Making Things Happen

    Chapter 204: Making Things Happen


    After analyzing the situation, Rhaegar proposed a strategic adjustment.


    He immediately sent ravens to redeploy troops from the Crownds and the Rivends. The remaining ships in King''s Landing were loaded with supplies and sent to Driftmark for transport to the Stepstones.


    "We''ll need to transport some supplies immediately," Rhaegar mused. "I��ll assign 800 Dragonkeepers from the Dragonpit to escort them."


    From King��s Landing to Driftmark and then to the Stepstones, the journey would take at least three days. Factoring in the time for loading supplies and deploying soldiers, it would stretch even longer. The troops on the Stepstones couldn''t afford to wait; they needed immediate support.


    "Prince, the Triarchy pirates have taken over Bloodstone Ind and may intercept our transport ships in the Narrow Sea," Lyonel pointed out.


    Rhaegar remained calm. "It''s alright. I''ll ride the dragon and escort the supplies myself."


    With Meleys and Sea Smoke still guarding GreyGallows, he didn��t need to rush there immediately. Ensuring the safe transport of supplies was crucial. If the supply line was cut, the battle for the Stepstones would be lost.


    The tension in the hall eased as the n took shape.


    Viserys�� face lightened, and he waved his hand. "Lyonel, do as Rhaegar says."The king had been in a state of panic, consumed with anger towards Tnd and the others. Rhaegar''s organized n was exactly what he needed.


    "Yes, Your Grace," Lyonel said, and hurried out of the hall.


    Grand Maester Mellos also stood and left to release the ravens and deliver the messages.


    Seeing them go, Rhaegar added, "Father, this battle is significant. I suggest sending Aegon with his dragon to Grey Gallows to bolster our defenses."


    Another dragon would greatly strengthen their position. At this critical moment, he couldn''t worry about family affections - Aegon had to act.


    Viserys agreed, "Very well, I will inform him immediately."


    Aegon had been drinking heavily the previous night and was likely still hungover, but there was no time to waste.


    Having said all that needed to be said, Rhaegar offered his resignation. "Father, I will go and gather the Dragonkeepers."


    "Go ahead. Lord Lyman will prepare the supplies and cargo ships," Viserys replied.


    Rhaegar rose quickly, his impatience evident.


    Jeyne, who had been quietly observing, also got up. "Farewell," she said, following Rhaegar out.


    ...


    Rhaegar descended the stairs and left the Red Keep, his mind racing with worry. The near-total destruction of the royal fleet was a significant blow, and he worried about the fate of the Second Sons he had recently supported, all of whom were elite knights.


    He hurried to the Dragonpit and found Maynard, instructing him to gather the Dragonkeepers.


    The standard force consisted of 1,000 men, but Rhaegar also assembled 200 additional free folk from Crackw Point, totaling 1,200. He assigned 800 of these guards for the mission, leaving 400 to protect the Dragonpit.


    As Rhaegar addressed the guards, Jeyne entered the Dragonpit, escorted by Vale knights. Seeing her filled him with mixed emotions, especially guilt for rejecting her the previous night.


    Jeyne, with her noble status and outstanding beauty, had humbled herself for him. He feared the rejection would breed resentment.


    "Rhaegar, are you okay?" Jeyne''s voice was filled with concern as she approached him.


    Rhaegar''s eyes showed surprise and suspicion at her behavior.


    "What are you afraid of? I''m still me, I haven''t changed physically or mentally," she reassured him with a smile. "Even though you left mest night, I still want to be your wife and love you."


    "Jeyne, you should go back and rest," Rhaegar said, pulling away gently, trying to convince her.


    Jeyne stepped forward and gripped his hand, her knuckles white with tension. "I was in a hurryst night; I don''t me you."


    Rhaegar looked at her clenched hand, noting the tension. "It''s good you can forgive me. One must always follow one''s heart."


    "No! I will not forgive you; I will remember this for the rest of my life," Jeyne dered, closing the gap between them. "I love you, and I don''t mind that you make your own choices, but it embarrasses me."


    "Do you want me to apologize?" Rhaegar asked, stepping back.


    "Don''t apologize; you didn''t do anything wrong," Jeyne said, surprisingly open-minded. "And I don''t feel sorry either, at least I haven''t betrayed Rhaenyra yet."


    Rhaegar blinked, recognizing Jeyne''s unusual psychological state.


    "Rhaegar, your strategic thinking at the meeting was impressive," she continued with a smile. "I asked the Grand Maester to send a message to Runestone. The Royce House has a small harbor that can support additional troops."


    "Runestone has suffered significant losses. Can they still provide troops?" Rhaegar asked, concerned.


    "Don''t worry," Jeyne said confidently. "Most of the wealth collected from the Shett and Arryn branches willpensate Runestone, enough to cover their losses."


    "Thank you," Rhaegar said, genuinely grateful.


    "You and I don''t need to say thank you. You know what I''m asking for," Jeyne replied, her eyes filled with ambiguous intent.


    Suddenly, she changed the subject, looking around the Dragonpit. "Where are the dragons? I heard there are still young dragons. Can we see them?"


    Caught off guard, Rhaegar summoned a Dragonkeeper and spoke in High Valyrian, "Bring Stormcloud, and watch over the men and dragons."


    Turning to Jeyne, he said, "I have other matters to attend to. There is a young dragon for you to see." He then mobilized the 800 Dragonkeepers and left the Dragonpit.


    Jeyne watched Rhaegar lead the Dragonkeepers away, a slight smile ying on her lips.


    ...


    Noon.


    Threerge cargo ships anchored at the River Gate port, and sailors and Dragonkeepers boarded them one by one. As thest of the crew climbed aboard, the ships set sail.


    A gust of wind filled the sails as the Cannibal, a formidable dragon, pped its wings and soared toward ckwater Bay.


    Before the Cannibal''s departure, Aegon had been dragged out of bed by Viserys and forced to ride Sunfyre to the Stepstones.


    Two dayster, on the Narrow Sea.


    Three ships sailed slowly, mere specks in the vast expanse of the sea. They were passing close to the Cape Wrath in the Stornds when a sudden change urred.


    Five medium-sized warships approached, their sails emzoned with three-headed monsters. They were manned by well-armed mercenaries from the Triarchy.


    "Full speed ahead, hijack the cargo ships!" the leader of the mercenariesmanded in rough Valyrian.


    The warships closed in on the cargo ships, which couldn''t turn in time to escape. The lighter, faster mercenary ships quickly caught up.


    Just as the warships lowered their ramming horns to engage, a dragon roar echoed across the sky.


    "Roar!"


    Ghostly green dragonfire descended, engulfing one of the warships in mes. Heart-wrenching screams filled the air as the ship and its crew were incinerated.


    Panic spread among the remaining mercenaries as the Cannibal swooped down and unleashed dragonfire on another warship.


    "Scorpion crossbows! Ready the scorpion crossbows!" the mercenary captain shouted.


    But Cannibal gave them no chance. It unleashed another torrent of dragonfire, reducing the ship to a zing wreck.


    Thest two ships, also set aze, scattered their surviving crew into the sea. Desperation drove the mercenaries to abandon ship, knowing they couldn''t match the dragon''s might.


    "Enough, Cannibal!" Rhaegarmanded from the dragon''s back, halting the assault.


    The Cannibal descended, allowing Rhaegar to address the mercenaries on the final ship.


    "Roll back to yourirs and tell your masters that once the kingdom''s supplies are secure, our army will fight you in half a month," Rhaegar dered.


    The terrified mercenaries stared at the dark dragon, paralyzed with fear.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal''s roar, apanied by a stench of sulfur, swept over the ship.


    "Do you hear me clearly?" Rhaegar yelled.


    "Yes, we''ll inform our masters truthfully," the ship''smander replied, trembling.


    "Then get lost!" Rhaegar''s voice was icy, and the Cannibal''s eyes bore into the warship.


    The mercenaries hastily turned their ship and fled.


    As the warship disappeared over the horizon, Rhaegar surveyed the three cargo ships.


    The lead ship was packed with Dragonkeepers. Tormund, a skinchanger,y motionless in thep of a four-meter-tall giant.


    Rhaegar had brought his most crucial skinchanger to monitor enemy movements. The half-giant Porus, d in armor, was a formidable presence, a killing machine on the battlefield. Too often, though, he had been used for his father''s amusement.


    Tormund twitched, his pupils returning to normal. "Prince, why let that ship of mercenaries go?" he asked weakly.


    Porus echoed the question in his booming voice.


    "Patience," Rhaegar replied. "The battlefield is ever-changing."


    ...


    The next afternoon, three cargo ships arrived at Grey Gallows Ind.


    The soldiers on the ind had been starving for three days and were desperate for food. As soon as the freighters docked, supplies were unloaded, and fires were quickly lit to cook.


    Cannibalnded on the ind, and Rhaegar dismounted from the dragon''s back. A crowd immediately gathered around him.


    "Rhaegar, when will the kingdom''s support arrive?" Rhaenys asked, her voice tinged with exhaustion and anxiety. "The Triarchy has been watching from the coast."


    The soldiers had endured three days of hunger following a disastrous defeat and subsequent stranding on Grey Gallows Ind. It was a testament to their discipline and the presence of three dragons that they hadn''t mutinied.


    "Aunt, I have a bold n," Rhaegar said, his eyes gleaming with determination.

 Chapter 205: Dorn’s Wedding Proposal

    Chapter 205: Dorn��s Wedding Proposal


    Rhaenys was stunned, her face showing disappointment. She sighed, "Let''s discuss this in the tent."


    She didn''t believe any n could reverse their dire situation. She assumed the kingdom''s support would be dyed further.


    Rhaegar understood her doubts and chose not to exin in front of the crowd.


    As they walked, Rhaenys recounted the details of their defeat. Tnd and his men were surrounded by the pirates of the Triarchy and suffered heavy casualties. The Sea Snake brought reinforcements but was overwhelmed. The enemy had prepared hundreds of scorpion crossbows on their ships and along the shore, severely limiting Meleys and Sea Smoke.


    During the battle, the Sea Snake was gravely injured and remains unconscious in a feverish state within his tent.


    When they entered the makeshift tent, all the realm''smanders were present. Vaemond, with his arm in a sling, and Cole, now in ordinary armor, were among them. Laenor and Aegon were absent, patrolling on dragons to prevent a surprise attack by the Triarchy.


    As Rhaegar walked into the tent, everyone stood and stared at him. With the Sea Snake seriously injured and Tnd in custody, the army needed a strong leader.


    "Prince... Prince..." Themanders murmured, saluting him.


    "The matter is urgent, there''s no need for formalities," Rhaegar said, his eyes sweeping over the gathered men.Cole quickly approached and fell to his knees. Under Rhaegar''s cold gaze, he spoke with despair, "Prince, I have sinned without pardon. I am no longer worthy of wearing the white cloak."


    "It''s good that you understand," Rhaegar replied icily. "My father trusted you tomand the king''s army. You, a soldier by birth and formermander of the Kingsguard, knew thew and yet caused the deaths of thousands."


    "After I return to King''s Landing, I will voluntarily confess and atone for my sins," Cole said, his voice hard yet defeated, his head bowed.


    He had not onlymitted a grave crime but also tarnished the honor of the white cloak, losing the dignity of a Kingsguard.


    "Take care of yourself," Rhaegar said, stepping around him and walking towards the table.


    Rhaenys followed, her gaze cold and disdainful towards Cole. A Kingsguard who couldn''t keep his oath was unworthy of his silver armor and white robes.


    Rhaegar approached the table and stood as he began to speak. "Lords, we are at a disadvantage in this battle for the Stepstones Inds. We must regain our strength."


    A solemn middle-aged man with a breastte emzoned with a deep purple grape on a blue background spoke up. "What do you have in mind, Prince?" This was Spike Redwyne of House Redwyne of the Arbor.


    Rhaegar valued his input and said, "Given the current situation, I have formted a n that I willy out with full authority."


    "What is it?" Spike Redwyne asked suspiciously.


    "Now is not the time to reveal all the details," Rhaegar exined. "The feasibility of the n requires going with the flow and being patient."


    "So what do we do in the meantime? We can''t just wait," Spike pressed, frowning sternly.


    The Redwyne Housemanded one of the strongest fleets in the Bay. In Westeros, only the Vryon and Celtigar fleets were stronger.


    Rhaegar pondered for a moment before saying, "I need a bait."


    Everyone in the room exchanged nces. Finally, Bartimos Celtigar spoke. "Prince, what are the requirements for this bait?"


    The Celtigar House had long been loyal to House Targaryen, second only to House Vryon. At the beginning of the War for the Stepstones, Bartimos had led his troops to aid the cause.


    Rhaegar replied, "Since it is a bait, it must be prepared to die at any time."


    Bartimos was stunned. The war had already inflicted heavy casualties on all the families. Acting as bait meant riskingplete loss of the fleet.


    Kneeling on the ground, Cole suddenly raised his head and shouted, "I''ll go! I''ll be the bait!"


    Rhaegar turned to look at him silently.


    "Let me go, Prince," Cole said, trembling with excitement. "I don''t want to be hanged or sent to the Wall. Please, let me atone for my sins and perform myst duty for the kingdom by dying on the battlefield!"


    Cole still held hopes for the glory of the Kingsguard. He didn''t want to die in disgrace but preferred a knight''s death.


    Rhaegar looked at him, his mind racing.


    Bartimos leaned forward and whispered to Rhaegar, "Prince, why not give Ser Criston a chance? Having someone willing to die as bait is better than choosing from among us."


    Upon hearing this, Rhaegar nced at Bartimos and then said with a sneer, "Good. Cole, you will take on this task."


    The discussion reached a conclusion. Rhaegar fell silent, listening to the analysis of the battle situation from those present. The tumultuous Battle of the Stepstones gripped everyone''s hearts.


    ...


    The Red Keep, King''s Landing


    Inside the throne room, the advisers of the Small Council were all present. Viserys wore a golden crown and sat atop the Iron Throne.


    "Ser Setyl Dayne of Starfall, messenger of Prince Martell of Dorne," announced a member of the Kingsguard as therge doors swung open.


    A tall young man in yellow robes with dark hair and sun-kissed skin walked into the hall. He was the envoy from Dorne.


    Originally, Rhaegar was supposed to host this meeting, but now Viserys attended in person.


    Lyonel Strong, standing beside the king, announced in a booming voice, "You stand before King Viserys I of House Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."


    This formal introduction,den with titles, seemed to catch Setyl Dayne off guard. He stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Prince Qoren Martell sends his greetings and wishes for peace, Your Grace."


    "Rude! You should kneel and bow before the King!" Lyonel''s face darkened, his voice sharp with rebuke.


    Setyl''s eyes narrowed slightly as he stood his ground. "Dornishmen do not kneel."


    "How dare you!" Lyonel roared, ready to escte the confrontation.


    Viserys raised a hand to calm him. "Enough, Lyonel," he said, his voice measured. "Why have youe, messenger of Dorne?"


    Lyonel, clearly displeased, fell silent. He had hoped to make an example of the Dornish envoy, harboring a deep-seated dislike for Dorne due to the history of conflict between their houses.


    Setylposed himself, his face regaining its solemnity. "Prince Qoren is weary of war and seeks to negotiate peace."


    Viserys''s expression turned skeptical. "Oh, is that so? After supporting the Triarchy''s invasion of the Stepstones multiple times, Qoren suddenly understands the value of peace?"


    In thest Battle of the Stepstones, Qoren had led his forces against the alliance of Daemon and Corlys. Although he did not personally appear in thetest conflict, Dornish soldiers were present on the battlefield. Now, in the midst of another conflict, Qoren was asking for peace.


    It''s obvious he doesn''t give a damn about the authority of the Targeryens and has bad intentions.


    Setyl said, "Your Grace, war only brings harm to both sides. Prince Qoren is a man of honor, and I would not have risked my life toe here otherwise."


    The rtionship between the Targaryens and the Dornish was tense. Dornishmen entering the realm faced rejection and hostility from the local popce. If word of the Dornish emissary��s presence spread, many bannermen would call for their execution.


    Viserys asked, "The Iron Throne has always sought peace. Has Qoren decided to withdraw his troops?"


    "Yes, Prince Qoren has decided to do just that," Setyl confirmed. "However, to ensuresting peace between our realms, the Prince has a request."


    "Peace offered by Dorne? What right do you have to ask something from the Iron Throne?" Lyonel interjected sharply, his skepticism evident. He understood the potential dangers of Dorne��s peace offer. If Viserys agreed, the Dornish could make unreasonable demands.


    Viserys, growing impatient, interrupted, "What does Qoren want?"


    Setyl nced triumphantly at Lyonel before replying, "Prince Qoren��s consort has been dead for many years. He would like to request a Targaryen princess for marriage, to solidify peace between our two sides."


    "Don''t even think about it!" a harsh voice immediately objected.


    Viserys turned to see Rhaenyra��s icy expression. Among those present in the hall were not only royal advisers but also Rhaenyra, Alicent, and Jeyne Arryn. The Princess of Dragonstone, the Queen, and the Lady of the Eyrie were fully qualified to attend the session with the Dornish emissary.


    Alicent''s face also darkened, and she nervously fidgeted with her fingers. Setyl, unfazed by the rebuke, surveyed Rhaenyra and asked, "Is this silver-haireddy the Princess?"


    "That''s right," Rhaenyra replied haughtily, dressed in ck finery. "I am the First Princess of Viserys I, the Princess of Dragonstone, and on behalf of the kingdom, I refuse Dorne''s request for a marriage."


    Setyl frowned slightly and turned back to Viserys. "Your Grace, can your daughter make such a decision on behalf of the King?"


    Viserys ignored him and met Rhaenyra��splex gaze. He had promised Rhaenyra he would not interfere with her marriage. After a moment of hesitation, Viserys said, "She is my daughter, and I respect her decision. She will not enter into any union."


    Viserys was determined not to marry Rhaenyra. He remembered his promise to her and was aware of his eldest son''s feelings. If Rhaenyra were married, Rhaegar''s return to King''s Landing could cause considerable unrest.


    Setyl, realizing the implications, asked cautiously, "Your Grace, if I remember correctly, you have two daughters?"


    "Viserys!" Alicent gasped, her agitation obvious.


    The other daughter was hers, of course.


    "Calm yourself, Alicent," Viserys said, reassuring his wife with a gentle smile.

 Chapter 206: The Commanders Show Their Loyalty

    Chapter 206: The Commanders Show Their Loyalty


    Nightfall.


    The Red Keep, Queen��s residence.


    Alicent sat at the round table, staring straight ahead. Across from her was Otto Hightower, the Master of Civil Affairs. tes of untouched foody before them.


    "Father, you have to help me," Alicent began, her voiceden with sorrow. "Prince Martell has asked for a princess in marriage, and I can''t give Hena away."


    "Don''t worry. Viserys hasn''t agreed yet, the matter isn''t settled," Otto replied calmly.


    "But you know he''s weighing the pros and cons," Alicent fretted. "Viserys will surely send Hena to Dorne for the sake of peace."


    "And what��s wrong with that? Prince Qoren is wealthy and powerful. Hena won''t be mistreated," Otto said, his gaze unwavering.


    Alicent, worried for her children, grew more agitated. "Father, Dorne is at odds with the kingdom. The people there are ruthless. I can''t watch Hena thrown into such a dangerous situation!"


    Though Aegon was her primary concern, Hena was her only daughter��her daughter who resembled her, who grew up mentally ill and subjected to gossip. The thought of such a young girl being sent to Dorne by marriage was unthinkable.Otto frowned slightly, his tone nd, "Calm down, Alicent. Don''t let panic cloud your judgment."


    "How can I be calm when my daughter''s fate is in his hands?" Alicent rose, her eyes reddening with emotion. "Ten years ago, Viserys would have married Rhaenyra to Dorne. Do you think he cares about Hena?"


    Otto was silent, knowing exactly what his daughter meant. There was a time when Rhaenyra��s marriages were out of her hands. Before the First War for the Stepstones, Viserys had considered marrying Rhaenyra to Qoren to keep the peace with Dorne.


    After a moment, Otto spoke, "You have more than one child. If Hena can bring peace to the kingdom, she might secure the support of the Martells for you."


    As a politician, Otto valued profit over affection. To him, trading a girl for the support of the Martells outweighed her personal value.


    "Father, do you realize what you''re saying?" Alicent''s face was stunned, her eyes full of disbelief.


    Otto sighed, "Alicent, you��ve always worried about your children''s future. Hena marrying the Prince of Dorne makes her the Dornish heiress, maximizing the return to our family."


    "No! Don��t even think about it!" Alicent raged, utterly disappointed in her indifferent father. "You said the same thing to me and sent me to Viserys''s room. He doesn''t love me. He only sees histe wife and her children. I''m just a tool for bearing children, an old mother running the Red Keep!"


    Her eyes were red as she spoke. Her life had be unbearable. She didn''t want her daughter to suffer the same fate��hated and disregarded.


    Otto watched his daughter calmly, letting her vent. After a while, Alicent, gasping for breath, said dazedly, "If you won��t help me, I��ll find another way."


    With that, she quickly left the room. Otto remained silent, lost in his thoughts.


    ...


    Alicent climbed the stairs to a secluded loft.


    Creak...


    The door to the attic opened, revealing the room inside.


    Larys Strong, smartly dressed, sat in one of the two solid wood chairs, scepter in hand. He looked at Alicent with a smile, clearly having waited for her for some time.


    ...


    Grey Gallows Ind, Central Tent.


    Inside the tent, a group of high-ranking officials were engaged in a heated debate.


    "We should defend the ind to the death and focus on preventing a sneak attack from the Triarchy."


    "Nonsense! How many men do we have? It''s not enough to mount a proper defense. We shouldunch a night attack and take them by surprise."


    The two men arguing were Spike Redwyne of the Arbor and Borros Baratheon of the Stornds.


    Borros, who had been driven from his home and joined the army after his father, Lord Boremund, disowned him, had brought 2,000 soldiers and 10 ships - a significant reinforcement for the king''s army.


    "Silence, my lords!" Robb Rivers, leader of the Second Sons, tried to intervene as the argument grew more heated.


    "Silence, my ass. I''m in the middle of an important discussion, you bastard!" Borros snapped, his temper ring.


    Robb''s face turned red and he fell silent, humiliated.


    Rhaegar, sitting at the head of the table, red at Borros and tapped the table. "Lord Borros, be quiet for a moment!"


    "Lord, we are discussing the war situation. Not even the king can silence a battlefieldmander," Borros replied scornfully.


    Bang...


    Rhaegar mmed the table down and stood up, shouting, "I said silence, Lord Borros!"


    He red at Borros with a fierce gaze, his body radiating a formidable presence. Years spent in the Cannibal''spany had imbued him with an intimidating aura.


    Borros red back, ready to retort, but Rhaegar''s intense gaze silenced him. The knot in his throat moved as he swallowed hard, finally grunting in reluctantpliance.


    The others in the tent, who shared a general disdain for Borros, calmed down as well. They were relieved to see the prince put him in his ce.


    Rhaenys spoke up to break the tension, frowning. "Rhaegar, what do you propose?"


    "Yes, when do your ns begin, Prince?" Bartimos Celtigar chimed in, shifting the focus back to strategy.


    Rhaegar withdrew his gaze and returned to the sand table. "My lords, it is time for the n to begin."


    All eyes were on him, waiting for his exnation.


    Rhaegar continued, "In about two days, the Triarchy will definitely make a big move. Our first task is to reorganize our military equipment and wait patiently for material support."


    "Oh, who doesn''t know that?" Borros sneered.


    Rhaegar nced at him without paying much attention. "I sent Cole to the Broken Arm to attract Dornish troops. Has he departed yet?"


    Robb responded quickly, "He left this evening."


    "Very well." Rhaegar said.


    Borros interjected, "Prince, you said Cole was the bait. Now that he''s gone, what should we do?"


    "Get the army ready and stand by," Rhaegar said seriously.


    Borrosughed disdainfully. "This is the same nonsense every day. If we want to defend Grey Gallows Ind orunch a sneak attack on the Triarchy, what''s the point of just reorganizing the army?"


    "Lord Borros, watch your words. You are in the presence of the heir to the kingdom!" Robb was the first to stand up and rebuke him.


    "Shut the fuck up, bastard!" Borros, enraged, opened his mouth to curse.


    Robb wanted to argue, but Rhaegar held him down with one hand, stopping him.


    "Prince?" Robb hesitated.


    Rhaegar waved his hand and faced the thick-necked, red-faced Borros. "The Navy Commander and the Master of Ships are both gone. Who is in charge on the ind?"


    Borros red and replied coldly, "In terms of status, naturally the Prince is the highest authority."


    The most honorable person present was Princess Rhaenys, followed by Bartimos Celtigar, the Lord of w Isle. The rest, including Borros, were of second rank or knights.


    Hearing Borros'' answer, Rhaegar let out an "Oh" and tilted his head. "Since I am the highest authority, I said to be ready at all times. Do you wish to disobey me?"


    As he spoke, his hand moved to Dragon w hilt at his waist.


    "Of course not..." Borros started to argue, but Rhaenys cut him off.


    "Shut up, Borros!" Rhaenys warned, her eyes fierce. "Remember your father''s advice to choose your words carefully!"


    Her mind was sharp and she caught Rhaegar''s movement instantly. She knew Borros was being made an example of.


    Borros simmered with fury, a knot of unspoken words tightening his throat. Rhaegar, his gaze as cold as a serpent''s, met Borros''s defiance. "Spit it out, then," Rhaegar''s voice was a razor''s edge, daring Borros to a challenge.


    Borros'' anger turned to fear, his throat tightening as he realized Rhaegar''s intention while holding the hilt of his sword. A cold sweat broke out and his defiance faded.


    "He''s going to kill me!" Borros thought, swallowing hard.


    Suddenly, the tent p lifted and Laenor rushed in. "Cousin, the Kingdom of the Three Daughters has sent additional troops to garrison Bloodstone Ind!"


    Rhaegar nced at him, but remained focused.


    With Laenor''s intrusion, the tense atmosphere eased slightly. Rhaenys, quick-witted, kicked Borros in the leg socket.


    With a thud, Borros fell forward, kneeling before Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar looked down at him like a judge.


    Fear filled Borros''s heart, and he gave up his pride. Trembling, he said, "Prince, your words are the golden rule, and the Stornds obey yourmands!"


    Bartimos quickly echoed, "As the Princemands!"


    The scene was shocking, and everyone felt as if they were in an ice cer.


    With one person starting the pledge, others followed.


    "At the prince''smand..."


    Spike Redwyne and severalmanders knelt on one knee, offering their loyalty.


    Regardless of Rhaegar''s reasoning, his tough stance and determination were enough to earn their loyalty.


    As he looked at his kneeling bannermen, Rhaegar''s icy expression melted into augh. "Lord Borros was only joking. Why are you all kneeling?"


    Heughed as if it were just a jest.


    Borros shivered, forcing a smile onto his face.


    The others, though unsure, joined in theughter. The tent echoed with loud, enthusiasticughter.


    "Hahaha..."

 Chapter 207: The Dragons Appearance

    Chapter 207: The Dragons Appearance


    King''s Landing, a chamber.


    "Alicent, I can''t help you with this request," Jeyne said, leaning back in her chair with a look of regret.


    Across from her, Alicent frowned in dissatisfaction. "You said that in a man''s world, we women must unite."


    "Dorne''s request for a marriage alliance is a matter for the king to decide. I cannot intervene," Jeyne replied, her tone firm but sympathetic.


    "Viserys will marry Hena to Dorne, and I must act before he agrees," Alicent pleaded. "I have only one daughter, and I cannot abandon her."


    Jeyne''s demeanor remained unchanged. "My influence lies in the Vale, not King''s Landing. Here, I have no power."


    She understood the dangers of arranged marriages for women all too well, which is why she remained unmarried at 24. But when it came to the political maneuvering of the realm, the king had the final say, and she was powerless.


    Realizing Jeyne wouldn��t help, Alicent''s expression hardened. "Jeyne, don''t forget our agreement. I''ve been advocating for you to Viserys."


    Jeyne��s face showed a flicker of irritation. "I didn��t see any results from your so-called advocacy. I approached Rhaegar myself, and I was rejected. I can''t even imagine how he perceives me now.""Viserys is considering your union just as he is Hena''s," Alicent retorted, her tone turning cold and threatening. "Jeyne, I am the queen. While I may struggle to make something happen, it��s easy for me to ruin it."


    Jeyne''s face darkened. "Threats won''t change the fact that I have no power here."


    The greatest humiliation of her life was being rejected by Rhaegar. But even before that, She was the Lady of the Eyrie. How could she give in to threats?


    Alicent stood up, looking down at Jeyne. "Our partnership ends the moment I leave this room."


    "Feel free," Jeyne replied, her red lips barely moving, her indifference clear.


    Alicent snorted and strode out. Just as she was about to close the door, Jeyne��s voice stopped her.


    "I can''t help you, but think about who can influence the king��s decisions and who you can turn to for help."


    "No need to remind me," Alicent snapped, pushing the door shut and leaving.


    Once outside, Alicent regained herposure, adjusting her makeup as she walked towards Rhaenyra''s quarters. She understood Jeyne''s hint. Who in the entire kingdom could sway Viserys�� decisions? There was only one answer: Rhaegar. And who could influence Rhaegar? Rhaenyra.


    Alicent had known her course of action even before she entered Jeyne''s room. Larys Strong had provided her with the perfect n. First, approach Jeyne for help. Regardless of the oue, the attempt would underscore Hena��s importance. Though she had threatened Jeyne, it was a necessary tactic to secure her warning.


    Now, it was time to find Rhaenyra and plead her case. With this in mind, Alicent approached Rhaenyra''s door and knocked.


    Knock, knock, knock...


    "Rhaenyra, I need to speak with you," Alicent called out, her voice filled with sadness, her expression transformed to one of desperation.


    ...


    Tyrosh, In a luxurious garden.


    A group of middle-aged men, each dressed in borate clothes and sporting different hair colors, gathered here.


    A dark-skinned, red-haired old man in a brocade robe sat in a pavilion, holding a young girl in his arms.


    Inside the pavilion, a group of unruly young men in leather armor sat on either side, each holding a beautiful woman in his arms.


    Opposite the brocade-robed old man stood a young man with silver-gold curls and blue eyes.


    The young man spoke, "Archon Graghas, the battle for the Stepstones is going well, and the Triarchy is about to win."


    The brocade-robed Archon drooped his eyelids and smiled, "That blonde-haired Lannister is truly a fool, just by spreading some half-truths and half-lies. He fell for it."


    "That''s right, that Sea Snake nearly died, and Westeros''s army is likely in disarray,"ughed a young Myrman with ck curly hair and olive skin.


    The Triarchy, also known as the Kingdom of the Three Daughters, consists of the free-trading city-states of Tyrosh, Myr, and Lys. The ruler of Tyrosh is called the Archon, which is the title of the old man in the brocade robe. The unruly youths are mercenaries, one of Tyrosh''s specialties.


    Myr is governed by a council of magister, and one of the Myr youths present is a governor''s representative. Lys has an elective political structure with a elected political official callled the First Magister.


    The young man with silver-blonde curls who spoke first is Drazenko Rogare, the younger brother of the First Magister of Lys, Lysandro Rogare. The Rogare family is one of thergest in Lys and operates the Rogare Bank, which rivals the Iron Bank of Braavos in wealth.


    Drazenko Rogare said, "The War for the Stepstones is not yet over. The Targaryen prince is still gathering supplies and troops, intending to retake the Bloodstone Isles."


    "A brat new to the battlefield is not worth mentioning, except for his dragon," the brocade-robed Archon waved dismissively, showing great disdain for the so-called prince.


    If Daemon Targaryen had ridden Caraxes and led an army to battle the Stepstones, he would have been more cautious. But a young Targaryen who spent his days on Dragonstone, unable even to detect scouts in his garden? How dare he im he will fight to the death in half a month''s time? It''s a joke.


    The young man from Myr took out a letter and reminded, "My Lords, we have a new message from the front. The army on Grey Gallows Ind is short of supplies and urgently needs replenishment."


    "What are the movements of the other side?" the brocade-robed elder asked.


    The Myrish youth replied, "The four dragons have been taking turns bombarding Bloodstone Ind. Our people are hiding in caves and have suffered minimal damage."


    "They''re just relying on their dragons to show off!" the brocade-robed old man grunted, clearly disgusted with the dragons.


    The young Myrish man continued, "ording to our intelligence, arge number of cargo ships will depart from Driftmark to Grey Gallows Ind in two days. We can intercept them."


    "The other side has dragons. They won''t just stand by and watch us destroy the cargo ships," Drazenko Rogare objected.


    "Under normal circumstances, they wouldn''t. But these are not normal times," the Myrish youth said confidently. "Our scouts have reported that Grey Gallows Ind has reorganized its army and is preparing tounch a counterattack against Bloodstone Ind soon."


    "We can attack from the east to draw the enemy''s main force and use this time to destroy their supply lines," the brocade-robed old man agreed. "It''s feasible. If we cut off their supplies, the army on Grey Gallows Ind will be unable to break through."


    When Bloodstone Ind was recaptured, the mercenaries looted all the supplies. The remnants of Westeros''s army now rely on supplies from the rear. By destroying these supply lines in advance, the enemy will starve without a decisive battle.


    "We can also invade the Gullet and plunder Driftmark. It''s a rich ce," the Myrish youth suggested greedily.


    Drazenko Rogare frowned. "Laena Vryon guards Driftmark. She controls thergest and oldest dragon, Vhagar."


    "What''s to fear? If our armiese ashore to pige, will the dragons destroy the whole ind?" the Myrish youth retorted proudly.


    Dragons are indeed powerful in battle, but they are not omnipotent. He didn''t believe a dragonrider would destroy their ownnd so easily.


    After some discussion, the brocade-robed old man made a decision. He formted a n, "Two days from now, Bloodstone Ind will send a small army to attack Grey Gallows Ind to attract the dragons'' attention."


    "Our main force will use ships to plunder the supply lines, and depending on the situation, decide whether to invade Driftmark. First, we must cut off the enemy''s supplies."


    Upon hearing this, the Myrish youth and Drazenko Rogare pondered for a moment. Finally, the Rogare nodded in agreement.


    ...


    Time flew by, and two days had passed.


    In the Narrow Sea, near a ind, a dozenrge cargo ships sailed steadily towards the Stone Inds. The fleet advanced slowly, eventually reaching the area of the Cape of Wrath.


    "Attack!"


    Warships bearing the symbols of the Triarchy approached from the distance. The lookout on one of the cargo ships spotted the iing vessels and shouted, "Enemy! Turn around!"


    The helmsman panicked and tried to steer the ship to safety, but it was toote. The warships, with their superior speed, quickly closed in and surrounded the cargo ships.


    The watchman counted the number of enemy ships��there were more than sixty.


    "Lower the ramming horns and charge!" the Triarchymander ordered.


    The warships surged forward, their thick ramming horns crashing into the cargo ships. Both fleets came to a halt as the warships rammed into their targets.


    "Board and fight!" themander yelled, drawing his scimitar. He led the Triarchy pirates as they boarded the cargo ships, using the ramming horns and chains to climb aboard.


    Soon, the pirates had surrounded the dozen cargo ships, boarding them one after another and starting to ughter and loot.


    A strange scene unfolded. Before the pirates could board, the helmsmen and sailors on the cargo ships jumped into the sea, abandoning their vessels in a desperate bid to escape.


    The pirates, undeterred, stormed the cargo holds to search for loot. To their shock, they found it empty. This was true for almost all the cargo ships.


    Only one ship had a group of soldiers waiting inside. Cole led the charge, wielding a morningstar, and shouted, "Kill all the pirates of the Triarchy!"


    Behind him, fewer than a hundred soldiers fought fiercely against the pirates, showing no fear.


    Realizing something was amiss, the Triarchymander shouted, "Retreat! This is a trap! Hurry back to support Bloodstone Ind!"


    His heart pounded as he looked at the empty cargo ships. The enemy had no substantial supplies. The scouts'' reports had been false.


    But his retreat orders were drowned out by a thunderous roar.


    "Roar !!!"


    A dragon''s roar echoed across the sea, striking fear into the hearts of the pirates. Four dragons appeared in the sky: the charcoal-ck Cannibal, the blood-red Meleys, the golden Sunfyre, and the light silver-gray Seasmoke.


    Rhaegar, riding the Cannibal, looked down at the Triarchy fleet andmanded, "Dracarys!"


    With a deafening roar, Cannibal was the first to unleash a torrent of ghostly green dragonfire upon the fleet. Rhaenys, Aegon, and Laenor followed, their dragons spewing mes in various hues.


    In an instant, the four dragons circled over the Triarchy fleet, engulfing it in a ze of colorful, destructive fire.

 Chapter 208: New Title “Young Dragonlord”

    Chapter 208: New Title ��Young Dragonlord��


    Boom...


    A torrent of dragonfire bombarded the Triarchy''s warships, creating pirs of me and thunderous explosions.


    "Cannibal, attack that ship first!" Rhaegarmanded, his eyes cold and focused on the warship where the Triarchymander stood. This warship had been the first to ram a cargo ship, and its pirates were now battling Cole and his men.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal pped its wings and flew towards the warship. The Triarchymander, noticing the dragon''s approach, shouted in terror, "No! Abandon ship!"


    The dragon''s power was no joke. A single breath of dragonfire could spell doom for everyone aboard.


    Boom!


    Cannibal glided over, spraying green dragonfire onto the warship, instantly igniting the mast and armor. The Triarchymander barely had time to scream before he was engulfed in the mes, reduced to a charred corpse.


    Below, Cole was locked in a fierce battle, his morningstar crushing pirate after pirate. Blood sttered over his head and face, but he fought on, driven by the need to atone for his sins. He hadmanded the dozen cargo ships that served as bait, luring the Triarchy pirates into this trap.Above, four dragons circled the pirate fleet, raining destruction on the ships.


    "Hahaha, burn them all!" Aegonughed wildly, amused by the carnage as he rode Sunfyre.


    Having been idled in King''s Landing and Grey Gallows Ind, this first battle felt like a triumphant release for him.


    "Aegon, maintain altitude and finish them quickly!" Rhaenys, flying on Meleys, admonished sternly.


    After incinerating over ten ships, the pirates finally retaliated with scorpion crossbows. Steel-tipped bolts wereunched skyward, targeting the dragons.


    But their efforts were futile. One dragon might be vulnerable to a barrage of crossbow bolts, but four dragons were an insurmountable force. The scorpion crossbows were reloaded too slowly to match the dragons'' onught, and the fleet was soon engulfed in mes.


    Within minutes, the battle was over. The one-sided assault had obliterated thousands of pirates. Rhaegar, looking asposed as ever, shouted, "Quickly now, head to Bloodstone Ind for support!"


    "No problem!" Rhaenys responded, driving Meleys forward.


    Aegon nced at his brother, urging Sunfyre to unleash more dragonfire with greater speed. Laenor, equally agitated, rode Seasmoke alongside Sunfyre.


    Rhaegar focused on methodically burning each pirate ship. A few days earlier, he had released the pirate ship with a n in mind. By reorganizing the army and creating the illusion of an attack on Bloodstone Ind, he had deliberately leaked information about the cargo ship carrying supplies, baiting the enemy into intercepting it. The Triarchy, encouraged by recent victories, had taken the bait.


    Cole and his cargo ships had acted as bait, drawing in the bulk of the Triarchy''s fleet. Rhaegar, Rhaenys, and the others had waited in ambush, their dragons ready to wreak havoc.


    This was only the halfway point of their n.


    ...


    Bloodstone Ind.


    A fleet of over twenty ships approached, bearing gs adorned with three red dragons, seahorses, and purple grapes on a blue background.


    "Attack!" Vaemond shouted as he donned his armor and gripped his scimitar.


    The warships quickly reached the waters surrounding Bloodstone Ind. As they stopped, small boats were lowered into the water, allowing soldiers to disembark and row to shore.


    Bloodstone Ind''s fortifications had been rebuilt, but the patrolling pirates were surprised by the sudden attack and sounded their horns.


    Thunk!


    An arrow pierced the throat of one of the patrol pirates, silencing him. From a few hundred meters away, Robb of the Rivends, known as "Red Robb," retrieved his longbow and urged his brothers of the Second Sons to row faster.


    During the Battle of the Rivends, Robb had made a name for himself as the best archer in the region.


    Momentster, dozens of small boats reached the shore. Robb led the charge, followed closely by the 800 Dragonkeepers.


    "Kill!" Robb yelled as they stormed the beach, with soldiers from The Arbor and w Isle right behind them. Many of these soldiers bore the blood of recent battles on their armor, having fought off a small band of pirates before reaching Bloodstone Ind.


    The smaller pirate force was no match for the advancing army and was quickly overwhelmed.


    "Charge! Reim Bloodstone Ind!" Spike Redwyne bellowed, shing through the lightly defended pirates with his sword.


    The main force of Bloodstone Ind had been dispatched to Cape Wrath to intercept the supposed supply ships. Meanwhile, half of the remaining troops had attacked Grey Gallows Ind, only to be ughtered by the king''s army. Consequently, the ind''s defenses were at their weakest.


    Hundreds of pirates emerged from their caves, ready to fight to the death, but they faced thousands of well-equipped soldiers from the king''s forces. The disparity in numbers was insurmountable.


    Within half an hour, the beach was littered with the bodies of pirates who had fallen without much dy.


    Under the officers''mand, the soldiers reorganized the battlefield and began to rebuild the fortifications.


    Vaemond, dragging a injured arm, climbed to the watchtower and rented the three-headed red dragon g, signifying the recapture of Bloodstone Ind.


    "Roar..."


    A deep dragon roar echoed through the sky as the Cannibal''s pitch-ck silhouette emerged above. Rhaegar cast a nce over the battlefield below, confident that Bloodstone Ind had been secured.


    Robb, carrying his longbow, shouted up to the sky, "Prince, the n is going well!"


    The Cannibal descended slowly, and Rhaegar slid down the dragon''s back.


    "How are the casualties? Do we have enough supplies on Bloodstone Ind?" Rhaegar asked, his expression steady, focusing on the critical points.


    He was the orchestrator of this operation. From devising the strategy and spreading false information to rallying the people andmanding the dragons, he had led every step. The main force of the Triarchy had been incinerated at Cape Wrath, leaving Bloodstone Ind''s defenses vulnerable.


    Vaemond and his forces had led a full-scale assault, reiming the ind. The supplies they discovered were crucial for sustaining their army.


    Robb replied cheerfully, "The supplies are intact in the air-raid shelters. The Triarchy pirates, who are mostly mercenaries, hadn''t had time to sell off the plundered goods yet."


    Hearing this, Rhaegar''s tense expression rxed, and a smile crept onto his face. "Excellent. With Bloodstone Ind secured, the Triarchy won''t pose a significant threat anymore."


    In their previous attempt to seize Bloodstone Ind, the Triarchy had faced devastating losses when Rhaegar''s dragon burned dozens of their warships. Now, with their main force decimated at Cape Wrath, even the wealth of the three city-states couldn''t withstand such consecutive heavy blows. Internal disputes over these losses would further weaken them.


    As they conversed, Vaemond and othermanders gathered around. Rhaegar scanned their faces, drew Dragon w, raised it high, and shouted, "Did you all enjoy the battle?"


    He had controlled the battle''s oue, shouldering the responsibility for potential failure and basking in the glory of sess. His words resonated with themanders, who looked at him with admiration and respect.


    Vaemond''s dark face revealed a mix of emotions, his eyes especially intense. He slowly knelt, raising his scimitar above his head, and dered in a deep voice, "Prince, you are worthy of the title of King''s Heir. House Vryon pays tribute to you!"


    ...


    Themanders fell to their knees, raising their weapons above their heads, all eyes fixed on Rhaegar. His long silver-gold hair, striking purple eyes, handsome face, and cold demeanorbined with the resolute yet youthful features created a powerful image.


    A single thought surfaced in everyone''s mind: Perhaps, this is a true Dragonlord.


    Suddenly, someone shouted, "Young Dragonlord!"


    The cry stirred the crowd, and soon, themanders joined in, their voices rising in unison.


    "Young Dragonlord..."


    "Young Dragonlord..."


    The chants reverberated across the beach, reaching the ears of the soldiers who were clearing the battlefield. The call of "Young Dragonlord" spread like wildfire, passed from one soldier to another.


    In an instant, the words "Young Dragonlord" echoed over Bloodstone Ind, resonating for miles.


    ...


    Nightfall


    At the top of a mountain on Bloodstone Ind, Rhaegar sat on the edge of the cliff and gazed at the four dragons hovering over the ind.


    "Prince, the report on armaments and supplies is as follows: enough for the entire army for a year," Robb said, holding a detailed list of the ind''s inventory.


    "Understood, Robb," Rhaegar replied, his mind clearly elsewhere.


    Robb nodded and stood silently.


    Rhaegar closed his eyes andy down, feeling the salty sea breeze on his face. The slight furrow in his brow hinted at the thoughts weighing on his mind.


    "Young Dragonlord..." he murmured, shaking his head with a slight smile.


    He liked the title; it fit his status perfectly. But he didn''t like the implications. The title "Young Dragonlord" was royal, much like his father, Viserys, was called "Young King". With his father still in his prime, Rhaegar felt it would be disrespectful to assume such a title now. In the wrong ears, it could be twisted into something malicious.


    "I hope Father''s heart is big enough to ignore petty whispers," Rhaegar sighed. He tookfort in the fact that his father had always shown him a special kind of love, a bond stronger than any title could strain.


    Suddenly he heard strong, dull footsteps approaching.


    "Prince, there is a letter from King''s Landing, stamped with the seal of the Princess of Dragonstone," came Tormund''s soft voice.


    Rhaegar opened his eyes and turned around. The half giant Porus was standing at the edge of the cliff, carrying the pale Tormund on his shoulder.


    Rhaegarughed, "Tormund, you have quite the knack for finding a ride!"


    "Porus is not a mount; Porus is Tormund''s friend," the half-giant Poru replied, his voice dull but firm.


    "Sorry, Porus," Rhaegar apologized, soothing the big man''s feelings.


    Tormund tapped Porus on the shoulder, signaling him to let him down.


    He liked the big guy. It was good to keep him safe when he warged into the Falcon.


    Tormund handed Rhaegar an unopened letter. Rhaegar took it, noting the red y seal, and tore it open.


    The seal bore Rhaenyra''s mark, making it genuine. "Could it be that something has happened in King��s Landing again?" Rhaegar wondered anxiously as he began to read.


    With the tumult of recent months, he hade to expect the worst from each letter. As he read the small script, his expression darkened.


    "Envoy of Dorne... Union..." he read aloud softly, his voice dropping lower and lower as he squinted at the words. By the end, he had crushed the letter into a ball.

 Chapter 209: Alicent’s Bitter Plea

    Chapter 209: Alicent��s Bitter Plea


    When Rhaegar raised his head, his expression was dark and solemn.


    "Prince, has something happened in King��s Landing?" Robb asked, his voice tinged with concern.


    Rhaegar''s tone turned sarcastic. "Dorne has meddled in the War for the Stepstones and now has the audacity to send a marriage proposal to my father."


    At the beginning of the war, the realm had sent envoys to Dorne to make peace with Qoren Martell. The Dornish had evaded and even imprisoned the kingdom''s envoys. It wasn''t until Dorne''s forces attacked Bloodstone Ind alongside the Triarchy that the envoys were released.


    Now, in the midst of the battle, Qoren sends a proposal of marriage. ording to the letter, the Dornish envoy arrived in King''s Landing just as Tnd and the Kingdom''s forces were defeated and Bloodstone Ind was lost. This was clearly an attempt to humiliate the realm.


    "Qoren Martell, you double-crossing rat," Rhaegar spat, tearing the letter to shreds and scattering the pieces in the wind.


    "Prince, are you going back to King''s Landing?" Tormund asked quietly.


    Rhaegar nodded. "Yes, I must return. I''ll talk to Aunt Rhaenys first."


    The victory at the Stepstones meant they had to transport the remains of the fallen soldiers back to King''s Landing. The Sea Snake was gravely injured and needed immediate care at Driftmark.Having said that, he walked down the cliff.


    ...


    A few days earlier


    The Red Keep, King''s Landing


    Alicent knocked on Rhaenyra''s door.


    "Come in," came Rhaenyra''s voice from inside.


    Alicent entered, her face beaming with anticipation. Inside, Rhaenyra sat at her dressing table, gentlybing her long, loose hair. Hena was at a nearby table, fiddling with a dragon sculpture.


    "Mother?" Hena said, surprised to see Alicent.


    Alicent, equally surprised, asked, "Hena, what are you doing here?"


    Rhaenyra looked at Alicent, a hint of annoyance in her tone. "When she''s not with me, she''s hiding somewhere, ying with bugs."


    Ever since Rhaegar had arranged for Hena to stay with Rhaenyra one night, the young girl had been a constant presence. Rhaenyra tolerated her, let her be.


    Alicent smiled awkwardly, understanding. "Hena, your sister and I need to talk. Go to your room and rest."


    "Yes, Mother," Hena said obediently. She put down the dragon sculpture and reluctantly left the room.


    Silence filled the room as Rhaenyra hunched her shoulders and ruffled her hair. "Say what you must. I''ll be going to bed soon."


    She ran her fingers through her silky hair, content. Rhaegar loved the smell of her hair and oftenplimented its texture, so she took great care of it.


    Gathering her courage, Alicent said nervously, "Rhaenyra, I need your help."


    Rhaenyra continued tob her hair, her expression t. "I know what you''re going to say, but I can''t help you."


    Alicent had arrivedte, and Rhaenyra knew her purpose. But with her own marriage prospects in y, she was in no position to help Hena.


    "Rhaenyra, you can help me. Only you can help me," Alicent pleaded, lowering her head. "Your father cares most about you and Rhaegar. If you support Hena, he will reject the marriage proposal."


    Rhaenyra''s brows furrowed. "Alicent, our rtionship isplicated enough without involving Rhaegar."


    Rhaegar, her brother and soulmate, was leading an army for their family''s honor and the kingdom''s safety. Rhaenyra didn''t want any events to affect him, not even slightly.


    "Rhaenyra, you know how damaging a marriage to Dorne would be. Hena is only nine; she won''t survive it," Alicent wept, appealing emotionally. "Hena is closest to Rhaegar. He dotes on her."


    Alicent vividly remembered when Rhaegar, at six, fiercely protected Hena on their way to Dragonstone Ind, even fighting Aegon for her.


    At the time, she had only seen Aegon''s tears and med Rhaegar, but Henater revealed the truth. Alicent had never forgotten about it.


    Rhaenyra looked at Alicent with indifference, unmoved.


    Of course, she knew that Rhaegar favored Hena. That was precisely why she disliked Hena.


    Yes, she didn''t like Hena.


    Hena shared the same Dreamer gift as Rhaegar, a gift that Rhaenyracked. Rhaenyra felt overshadowed by Hena''s talents, especially since Rhaegar often praised Hena in front of her, sometimes evenparing the two.


    It was only for Rhaegar''s sake that she tolerated Hena more than her other siblings.


    Alicent''s heart sank when she saw Rhaenyra''s unchanged demeanor. She had hoped that allowing Hena to stay in Rhaenyra''s room would have fostered a better rtionship between the two sisters. But Rhaenyra''s cold response suggested otherwise.


    Alicent closed her eyes and sighed deeply, recalling Larys''s advice on seeking help. When she reopened her eyes, she had wiped away her tears and approached Rhaenyra.


    "Is there anything else you want to say?" Rhaenyra asked calmly, her dislike for Alicent evident. They were no longer teenage friends who shared everything; they were now bitter stepmother and stepdaughter.


    Without a word, Alicent walked over to Rhaenyra and slowly knelt down.


    "What do you mean by that?" Rhaenyra said in disbelief.


    Alicent ced her hand on Rhaenyra''s leg, looking up at her with sincerity. "Rhaenyra, help me, and I''ll make it up to you."


    Rhaenyra''s voice dripped with disdain. "What can you do to make it up to me? I''ve already got the best."


    She had fought for her freedom after losing her heir status, and Rhaegar, who had grown up under her care, held her in his heart and eyes. She couldn''t think of anything else she needed.


    "I will give up unrealistic ideas," Alicent said. "When the Battle of Stepstones is over, I will ask your father to partition Aegon away from King''s Landing. Aemond and Daeron too��they will never stay in King''s Landing to get in your and Rhaegar''s way."


    Rhaenyra''s eyes twinkled, but she refused, "No need. They would never threaten Rhaegar."


    There was something in her heart, but she didn''t trust Alicent enough to believe she would follow through. After all, Alicent had once climbed into her own father''s bed behind her back.


    "Rhaenyra, give me some trust. All I want is to protect my children, and there will be no more green in King''s Landing," Alicent pleaded, grabbing Rhaenyra''s hand.


    Rhaenyra nced at Alicent''s green dress. If Alicent truly intended to dissolve and quit the race, she wouldn''t have worn green to this meeting.


    Alicent noticed the nce and abruptly reacted. She reached for a pair of scissors from the dresser and began cutting at the sleeves and corners of her dress.


    "Enough, don''t y games with me here," Rhaenyra shuddered, stopping her.


    "Hightower is a family name that speaks of honor, and I''m not going to entertain any more illusions," Alicent said, dropping the scissors. She then removed a folded page from her sleeve.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes widened at the inexplicably familiar page. She took it and unfolded it, revealing the words and illustrations inside.


    It described the marriage between Nymeria and her first husband, Mors Martell. There was even an illustration of the wedding scene.


    It was the missing page from the Voyage of the Ten Thousand Ships.


    Rhaenyra stared unblinkingly at the page, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You still have this page?"


    This was from before she was named heir. Her mother was still alive, and Rhaegar hadn''t even been born yet. She and Alicent had shared a book, a relic of their once close friendship. Alicent had always struggled to remember what she read, so Rhaenyra, in moments of frustration, had torn out pages to reinforce Alicent''s memory.


    Thirteen years had passed since then.


    Rhaenyra rubbed the page with a reassuring frown. "When I look at this page, it seems like it was yesterday."


    Alicent''s eyes reddened as she choked out, "Rhaenyra, I know you hate me, and I''ve done many things wrong to you. But I had no choice. I was a victim of my family."


    Rhaenyra shifted her gaze from the page to Alicent.


    "In my heart, you''ve always been a good friend, just like this page I''ve kept." Alicent clutched Rhaenyra''s hand, her voiceden with genuine emotion. "Help my daughter. Don''t let her repeat my life."


    Rhaenyra pursed her lips, her gaze falling back to the page in her hand. After a moment of contemtion, she softly said, "Let me think about it. You can go now."


    "Rhaenyra..." Alicent began to plead.


    "Out!" Rhaenyra interrupted, her tone intensifying. She wanted to preserve the image of the best friend she once had, not taint it with the present''s bitterness.


    "Fine, take your time," Alicent conceded, standing up and walking out of the bedroom one step at a time.


    The door closed with a bang.


    Alicent leaned against the door, taking a deep breath to ease the shame and powerlessness that spread through her body.


    Inside the bedroom, Rhaenyra held the page, scrutinizing it over and over again.


    Half a minuteter, Rhaenyra sighed, set down the page, and took out a pen and paper. She wasn''t doing this for Alicent or even for Hena. She was reminiscing about the beauty of the past.


    ...


    Time moved forward.


    Two dayster, on the Narrow Sea, severalrge ships drifted, their sails adorned with three red dragons and seahorses.


    At the door of one of the ship''s cabins, Rhaegar and Rhaenys spoke softly.


    "Aunt, has Lord Corlys not recovered yet?" Rhaegar asked.


    Rhaenys shook her head and sighed. "The fever is high, and the doctor said it''s an inmmation of the wound."


    "Don''t worry too much. Lord Corlys is strong; he will get better," Rhaegar gently reassured her. "I wille back to see himter."


    Rhaenys nodded and turned to walk into the cabin. How could she not be worried? She and her husband had shared children and decades of life together. In this era of poor medical care, high fever and wound inmmation were often fatal.


    Rhaegar turned away, deep in thought. He considered whether to use the serpent rune to treat Corlys.

 Chapter 210: Tyland’s Allegiance

    Chapter 210: Tnd��s Allegiance


    Leaving the upper cabin, Rhaegar made his way down to the cargo bay. As he walked down the narrow corridor, the painful cries of wounded soldiers echoed around him.


    The Battle of Bloodstone Ind was over, and the Triarchy had been dealt a heavy blow. Rhaegar nned to return to King''s Landing to confront the Dornish emissary and send additional troops to bolster the defenses of the Stepstones.


    The Triarchy now faced two options: either the three free-trading city-states would abandon their interests, ending the War for the Stepstones, or they would stage a desperate counterattack. In either case, Rhaegar knew the Stepstones needed to be solidly incorporated into the Targaryen Dynasty''s territory to prevent future troubles.


    Creak...


    Rhaegar reached the end of the corridor and pushed open a closed hatch. As the door swung open, dust and the stench of alcohol wafted out. Holding his breath, he opened the door wider to let the smell dissipate.


    The cabin was cramped, barely wider than a man''s arm span. It was dark and filthy, with no windows or vents. Against one wall was a rough wooden bed, and on its edge sat a scruffy man with curly blond hair.


    "Tnd, is there anything you want to say?" Rhaegar asked, his tone firm.


    The man didn��t respond, his eyes staring nkly at the stained floorboards. This was Tnd Lannister, the disgracedmander of the Battle of Bloodstone Ind.


    Rhaegar''s gaze lingered on Tnd, filled with a mixture of pity and frustration. The once-handsome man, known for his well-kept curly blonde hair and extraordinary looks, was now a shadow of his former self. His hair was a tangled mess, his bloodstained clothes unchanged, and he reeked of decay.The stench in the cabin had almost dissipated when Rhaegar stepped inside. "Lift your head and look at me," hemanded, his voice resolute.


    Tnd''s body trembled at the sound. Slowly, he raised his head, his eyes still zed over.


    St��


    Rhaegar''s hand connected with Tnd''s face, the p echoing in the small cabin. "Snap out of it," Rhaegar chided. "It''s not time to hang you yet."


    "Prince..." Tnd muttered, the pain bringing a flicker of awareness back to his eyes. He recognized Rhaegar, his expression a mix of fear and shame.


    Rhaegar spoke faintly, "Good. It seems you have not been broken yet."


    Tnd opened his mouth, his dry throat burning, and swallowed to moisten it. After coughing for a moment, he finally said, "Prince, what brings you here?"


    He lowered his eyes, unable to meet Rhaegar''s. His decisions had led to thousands of troops being lost at sea and the once secure Bloodstone Ind falling to the enemy. Though he survived under the protection of his soldiers, his spirit was broken that night. Guilt, self-reproach, and a deep sense of failure weighed heavily on him.


    Seeing Tnd''s defeated expression, Rhaegar frowned. "Do you want to die or live?"


    Tnd froze for a moment, then smiled bitterly. "Who wants to die when they can live?"


    He had misyed his hand and now faced dismissal and trial upon his return to King''s Landing. The best he could hope for was banishment to the Night''s Watch.


    Swish��


    Rhaegar drew his sword, the tip pressing against Tnd''s throat. "If you want to die, throw yourself on the sword," he said coldly. "I''ll assume you were too afraid tomit suicide."


    His voice then shifted to a scolding tone. "If you want to live, regain yourposure. Stop acting like a scorned woman."


    Tnd looked down at the cold de and felt a chill run through him. He was still afraid of death.


    "Prince, I''ve lost my standing as a royal advisor. I''m of no more value than before," Tnd said, his voice small. "But if you could plead with His Grace, perhaps I could avoid a worse fate."


    Despite his earlier despair, Tnd wasn''t ready to die. He was still young, unmarried, and without children. Given a chance, he wanted to live.


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow. "What would you do in King''s Landing? Who there could tolerate you?"


    Tnd was the main culprit behind the defeat at Bloodstone Ind. Even if he escaped death, his life in King''s Landing would be unbearable. The Lannister brothers were despised; Jason Lannister for his arrogance, and Tnd for his recent failure.


    Tnd''s eyes filled with confusion. "If not King''s Landing, where should I go?"


    He couldn''t return to Casterly Rock. That was his brother''s domain, and he had no ce there.


    "To the Stornds, to my Prince''s Pce," Rhaegar dered, sheathing his sword. "The pce is under construction. Go there to oversee the work and establish connections with Highgarden and ckhaven along the way."


    Tnd hesitated, then asked in a shocked voice, "Is the kingdom preparing for war with Dorne?"


    Rhaegar''s Prince''s Pce was in the Stornds, north of ckhaven. A steep mountain road from there led to Dorne��the Boneway. Sending Tnd to the Prince''s Pce to liaise with the Tyrells of Highgarden and House Dondarrion of ckhaven was a clear prelude to war with Dorne.


    Rhaegar sighed, "Clever, you understand the situation well."


    "But whether or not there will be war remains uncertain. Strengthening our defenses is prudent regardless."


    Tnd had served as the Master of Ships for many years. He was astute enough to grasp the broader strategy with just a few clues.


    Tnd rubbed his face and pushed back his messy hair. With newfound determination, he said, "If you can save my life, I am willing to go to the Prince''s Pce and prepare for the possibility of war."


    Though he might not be a warrior, his expertise in logistics and resource management was invaluable.


    Seeing Tnd''s willingness, Rhaegar was pleased. He said solemnly, "Perform well, and you''ll secure your ce in the future."


    Tnd was not just any man; he had been a key advisor. Having him on their side was a significant political asset. It would be wasteful to see him executed or exiled to the Wall.


    "Yes, Prince!" Tnd nodded vigorously, a renewed sense of purpose in his eyes.


    With the conversation over, Rhaegar turned and left without a backward nce. The stench in the cabin was overwhelming, and he had endured it long enough.


    ...


    Meanwhile, in King''s Landing, within the Red Keep''s Council Chamber, King Viserys sat in the main seat, nked by his advisors Lyonel and Otto.


    In the center of the hall, the Dornish emissary, Setyl Dayne, stood straight and respectfully inquired, "Your Grace, I wonder how you are considering the marriage proposal?"


    After a few days, Setyl had returned to press for an answer.


    Viserys nced at his two advisors, hesitating. "It is a matter of great importance, and I will need more time to consider it."


    Setyl persisted, "How much longer, exactly?"


    "Watch your tone, Emissary of Dorne!" Lyonel''s expression darkened as he rebuked Setyl. As the Hand of the King, he feltpelled to defend the King''s dignity.


    Unfazed, Setyl calmly responded, "I am merely requesting an update, Lord Hand of the King. There is no need for agitation."


    "The matter of marriage is not one to be decided hastily," Lyonel countered. "The King will inform you once a decision is made."


    Otto interjected diplomatically, "Envoy of Dorne, please be patient. His Grace is a benevolent ruler who wishes for peace."


    Lyonel shot Otto a sidelong nce, his annoyance evident. The marriage had not yet been decided, and Otto''sment seemed premature.


    Viserys knocked on the table to end the debate. "Enough. That will be all for today. The emissary from Dorne may leave."


    He didn''t want to prolong the argument. He hadn''t yet made up his mind and had been troubled by the matter for days. Alicent had been pleading with him against the marriage of Hena, while Rhaenyra had avoided him, expressing her strong opposition. Both his wife and daughter were against the idea, leaving him conflicted.


    As the King spoke, Setyl had no choice but toply and exited the hall.


    Once he was gone, Lyonel spoke up immediately, "Your Grace, the Dornish are ambitious and even participated in the Battle of the Stepstones not long ago. Marrying into their ranks is not wise."


    Lyonel was a firm man. He believed that the long-standing feud between the Kingdom and Dorne could not be resolved through marriage.


    Otto, lowering his head, countered softly, "You can''t say that. The front lines are strained. An alliance with Dorne through marriage would not only eliminate an enemy but also allow us to request Prince Qoren''s support against the Triarchy."


    "Prince Qoren has attacked the Kingdom in two consecutive Battles of the Stepstones. How can we rely on him?" Lyonel''s anger was palpable, and he retorted loudly.


    "The situation is changing," Otto argued. "The kingdom''s forces have suffered defeats, and Qoren''s marriage proposal is an opportunity to shift the bnce."


    Lyonel stood, his face red with fury. If they weren''t in the presence of the King, he might have physically confronted Otto.


    What a foolish notion. The losses are their own doing. Qoren''s proposal is opportunistic, exploiting their current weakness. Agreeing to it would cost the support and respect of many.


    "Alright, calm down!" Viserys interjected, seeing that his advisors were on the verge of a heated argument. He rubbed his temples, clearly frustrated.


    Otto pulled a letter from his pocket, diverting the conversation. "Your Grace, this is a letter from the Stepstones. Please read it."


    Viserys took the letter, opened it, and began to read. Normally, letters from the Ravens were delivered by Grand Maester Mellos, but Mellos'' advanced age often resulted in Otto, who had a personal connection with him, handling the deliveries.


    As Viserys read, his expression shifted from curiosity to excitement. His eyebrows lifted higher with each line.


    "Your Grace, is there good news from the front?" Lyonel asked, noticing the King''s sudden exuberance.


    Viserys burst intoughter, handing the letter to Lyonel. "Yes, excellent news! My son devised a n to lure the main forces of the Triarchy to Bloodstone Ind, and with the help of four dragons, they burned it to the ground."


    Lyonel scanned the letter quickly, his eyes widening. "Incredible! Bloodstone Ind has been recaptured, and the Triarchy has been devastated!"


    He pped the letter onto the table in front of Otto, his chin lifted triumphantly. "Rhaegar has turned the tide. He''s a true Targaryen genius!"


    Viserys beamed with pride. Rhaegar has indeed proven himself. Thest time had seen such a capable Targaryen was his stupid brother, Daemon.

 Chapter 211: Otto’s Provocation

    Chapter 211: Otto��s Provocation


    Three dayster.


    King''s Landing, Mud Gate.


    Severalrge ships docked at the harbor, and soldiers carried down one woundedrade after another. Rhaegar stepped off the ship and immediately spotted a familiar figure.


    "Rhaegar!" Rhaenyra called out, waving enthusiastically as she stood surrounded by guards, a bright smile lighting up her face.


    Rhaegar''s stern expression softened and he hurried toward her. Rhaenyra trotted to meet him, and through the crowd the two siblings embraced.


    Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him in admiration. "Rhaegar, you did it! You won a great battle."


    "It''s nothing," Rhaegar replied with a softugh, lowering his head to bury his face in her hair. Feeling the warmth of her embrace, his tense nerves finally began to rx.


    Rhaenyra, her head resting against his cheek, patted his back gently. During his absence, she had worried incessantly, and now, she relished the relief of his safe return.


    As they stood there, locked in a loving embrace, their guards formed a protective circle around them. Nearby, Alicent and Jeyne watched the reunion. Jeyne, hands behind her back, smiled warmly at the scene, showing no sign of jealousy or desire to interfere. Alicent, on the other hand, seemed anxious, her gaze fixed intently on Rhaegar.After a while, Rhaegar pulled back slightly and acknowledged the onlookers. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his brows furrowed and his tone cold.


    Jeyne stepped forward with a gracious smile. "Congrattions on your triumph, Rhaegar," she said, opening her arms to embrace both siblings.


    Rhaegar sighed, a look of helplessness in his eyes. Rhaenyra, caught off guard by Jeyne''s boldness, hesitated.


    "You..." Rhaenyra began, but Alicent quickly intervened. "Rhaenyra, your father has prepared a banquet to celebrate. Let''s return to the Red Keep."


    "Alright," Rhaegar agreed, squeezing Rhaenyra''s hand to calm her. Jeyne released her hold and gestured invitingly.


    Rhaenyra shot Jeyne a re but led Rhaegar towards the waiting carriage. The vehicle was prepared to take them back to the Red Keep, where a grand celebration awaited.


    ...


    Noon.


    The Red Keep hosted a grand banquet to celebrate the victory in the Stepstones Inds. Viserys drank heavily and couldn''t stop smiling as he praised his eldest son''s achievements.


    Rhaegar ate some pastries before quietly slipping away from the festivities.


    In the bathhouse, Rhaegar soaked in a steaming hot bath, enjoying the feel of gentle hands massaging him. After days spent on Bloodstone Ind, strategizing and fighting, he was utterly exhausted.


    As the warmth of the bath eased his fatigue, Rhaegar spoke drowsily, "Did Alicent ask you to send me a letter?"


    Rhaenyra, sitting nearby, her voice tinged with regret, replied, "I didn''t want to distract you."


    "It doesn��t matter," Rhaegar said, catching her hand as it moved across his chest. "I was already wary of the Dornish anyway."


    He turned to the girl attending him. "Fetch more hot water, Skr."


    "Yes, Prince," she replied. The girl, with long curly brown hair and wheat-colored skin, stood and left to fill a kettle.


    Rhaenyra, shifting from her perch, asked, "Is she the spy you nted in Riverrun?"


    Rhaegar sshed the water and chuckled, "Don��t be jealous. Skr has been with me since I was six. She''s loyal and hardworking."


    "Who��s jealous?" Rhaenyra blushed, quickly changing the subject. "Why is she back?"


    "Old Tully��s sons have resolved their conflict. There��s no need to monitor them anymore," Rhaegar exined, a glint in his eyes. "The winds are changing, and I need all the loyal people I can gather."


    Rhaenyra didn��t grasp all the details, but she understood the kingdom was at war. As the heir, Rhaegar��s preparations were necessary.


    Skr returned with the kettle, pouring the steaming water into the tub. Rhaegar moaned infort, leaning his head back against the edge.


    "Hmph, you wash yourself. I''m going to my room," Rhaenyra said, flustered by Rhaegar��s contented sounds. She fled, closing the door with a bang, as if venting her frustration.


    Once she left, Skr resumed massaging Rhaegar, her hands skilled and firm. "Princesses are very sensitive," shemented with a light smile.


    "Yeah, not as thick-skinned as you," Rhaegar teased, rxing further into her touch.


    Skr ignored the jab and reported, "I��ve settled all the advisers�� families you asked me to bring back in the Dragonpit."


    "Good," Rhaegar murmured, his eyes closing as sleepiness overtook him.


    Skr��s hands moved skillfully from his head to his shoulders, chest, and stomach. Her touch brought a final wave of rxation as Rhaegar groaned in satisfaction, his body finally at ease.


    ...


    Nightfall.


    Rhaegar woke from his deep sleep, refreshed, and changed into his long-prepared clothes. Exiting the bathroom, he hesitated for a moment in the hallway before deciding to head to his own bedroom. Skr''s skilled hands had rejuvenated him, and he didn��t want to disturb Rhaenyra��s rest.


    When he reached his bedroom door, he pushed it open. The room was as neat as ever under the warm glow of candlelight. Closing the door behind him, Rhaegar turned and was startled by what he saw.


    By the firece, a little girl in a white dress was crouching. He recognized her immediately.


    "Hena?" he asked in surprise.


    The girl looked up, her face streaked with tears, and softly eximed, "Brother~~"


    Rhaegar walked over and sat beside her. "Who made you cry? Why are you hiding in my room?"


    "No one made me cry," Hena replied, shaking her head. She hugged her legs, making herself as small as possible.


    Rhaegar added two logs to the firece. "What did you hear?" he asked gently, knowing how fragile her heart was. She often found a ce to hide when she was sad, but this was the first time she hade to his room.


    "I heard Father and Mother arguing, very violently," Hena whispered, her voice barely audible.


    It was true; she had heard Viserys and Alicent arguing. Knowing her brother wasing back today, she had sought refuge in his room.


    Rhaegar sighed and rubbed her hair. "Don''t be afraid. It''s normal for couples to quarrel."


    "Will I marry the Prince of Dorne?" Hena asked timidly, leaning her head against him. She knew what marriage meant and had heard stories about the Dornish people that scared her.


    "No," Rhaegar reassured her gently. "Targaryens don��t need to make suchmitments. I will dismiss the Dornish emissary tomorrow."


    "Really?" Hena��s eyes sparkled with hope as she looked up at her brother adoringly.


    "Really," Rhaegar affirmed, cuddling her in his arms. "Brother is a big umbre that will help you shelter from the wind and rain."


    "Uh-huh," Hena murmured, overwhelmed with emotion. She grabbed the corner of his coat and buried her head in his chest.


    Rhaegar smiled and let her hold him. Soon, he felt the wetness of her tears soaking through his shirt.


    He nced down tofort her, but to his surprise, she had fallen asleep. "She can really eat and sleep; no wonder she��s so plump," Rhaegar thought with a smile.


    Carefully, he carried Hena to the bed and tucked her in. Her delicate features resembled Alicent��s, but unlike her mother��s slim figure, Hena had a softness beneath her clothes.


    After settling Hena, Rhaegar shrugged and left the bedroom. He still needed to find his dear sister for somepany tonight.


    ...


    The next day.


    After breakfast, Rhaenyra and Rhaegar emerged from their room together. At the door, they found Erryk waiting.


    "Is Hena up yet?" Rhaegar asked.


    Erryk respectfully replied, "The little princess left early in the morning."


    "To the Dragonpit?" Rhaegar guessed, knowing Hena''s reclusive nature.


    Erryk shrugged, indicating he was unsure.


    "Let''s go," Rhaenyra said, taking Rhaegar''s hand and raising an eyebrow.


    Rhaegar nodded. His father wanted to discuss a marriage alliance and nned to have him meet the Dornish envoy. It felt like he was being used as a pawn.


    ...


    The Throne Room.


    Viserys sat on the Iron Throne with a smile on his face. Despite a hangover from the previous night, he woke up in good spirits.


    In the center of the hall, a group of performers in borate costumes were putting on a show. Two rotund men pretended to be Triarchy pirates, while a tall, skinny man yed the role of a Dornishman. In front of them were twoedic dwarfs.


    One dwarf, dressed in a ck dragon costume, crawled around on the floor. Mushroom, wearing a silver wig and holding a short, stubby wooden sword made to look like Dragon w, rode on the other dwarf''s back, shouting, "Cannibal, charge!"


    The dwarf beneath him yelped and crawled toward the thin man. Viserys watched in amusement, saying, "Mushroom, despite his simple mind, always manages to entertain."


    "Yes, it''s the jester''s duty to amuse the king," Otto agreed with a smile, standing beneath the Iron Throne.


    "Arrogant Dornish fool, taste my sword," Mushroom dered, as he swung his wooden sword at the performers, who squealed and fell to the ground, rolling around in mock pain.


    "Haha, I, Rhaegar Targaryen, am the strongest. Rhaegar Targaryen is the strongest Dragon Rider," Mushroom proimed, raising his wooden sword high.


    The performers knelt, kowtowing vigorously and begging, "Young Dragonlord, forgive us!"


    "Do you still dare to vite our borders?" Mushroom demanded.


    "Never, never," they cried.


    "Get lost!" Mushroommanded.


    "Long live the Dragonlord! Long live the Dragonlord!" they chanted as Mushroom continued to ride the crawling dwarf.


    Amid their shouts, Viserys suddenly paused. "Does the Young Dragonlord mean Rhaegar?" he asked.


    Otto, watching the show, casually responded, "Yes, the prince defeated the Triarchy, earning the title from the troops."


    "Young Dragonlord," Viserys mused, a gleam of pride in his eyes.


    Realizing the king''s mood had shifted, Mushroom quickly dismounted the dwarf and knelt. The other performers followed suit.


    "Your Grace, even a mere title signifies the prince''s extraordinary bravery," Otto said, waving off the performers.


    "You''re right, it��s only a title," Viserys muttered. Then, smiling again, he added, "But Rhaegar is my eldest son. He deserves this title!"

 Chapter 212: Helaena’s Resolve

    Chapter 212: Hena��s Resolve


    The sound of footsteps echoed as Rhaegar and Rhaenyra entered the Great Hall.


    Viserys'' eyes lit up as he beckoned, "Rhaegar,e to your father."


    Rhaegar smiled and approached, catching a glimpse of Mushroom and the other performers as they hastily retreated.


    Viserys'' smile widened and he unconsciously ced his hands on the armrests of the Iron Throne. When his palm touched the sharp edge of a sword embedded in the throne, he winced in pain as a bloody gash appeared.


    "Damn it!" Viserys hissed, sucking in a breath and shaking his hand in annoyance. In his haste, he had forgotten the treacherous edges of the throne.


    "Father!" Rhaegar and Rhaenyra eximed, their faces filled with concern.


    Rhaegar quickened his pace, ascending the steps to the Iron Throne. "Are you alright?" he asked, examining the wound.


    The cut was small, but blood was already dripping steadily.


    Viserys cupped his bleeding hand and forced a smile. "It''s nothing. I''ll have the Maester bandage it."Rhaegar remained silent, troubled by the sight. His father''s wounds never seemed to heal properly, a troubling sign of lingering illness.


    Rhaenyra, quick to action, pulled out a cloth and threaded it through the dense swords beneath the throne. "Here, let me help," she said, offering the makeshift bandage.


    Viserys shook his head with a wearyugh. "It''s just a small wound, no need to fuss," he said, taking the handkerchief and pressing it against the cut. Despite his words, he felt a pang of vulnerability.


    "Rhaegar, what do you think of Dorne''s proposal?" Viserys asked, bringing the conversation back to more pressing matters.


    "Father, I don''t agree with it," Rhaegar replied, his voice steady. "Dorne shows no sincerity. They wage war on one hand and seek peace through marriage on the other."


    Viserys sighed. "I understand. The kingdom and Dorne are on a collision course."


    The conflict with the Triarchy, supported by Dorne, had only escted tensions. Qoren''s envoy seeking a marriage alliance seemed more a strategic maneuver than a genuine gesture of peace. If the Targaryens agreed, it might buy some time. If they refused, war was inevitable.


    "I''ll think about it," Viserys said, his voice heavy with resignation. He leaned back, pressing a hand to his forehead, burdened by the weight of his decisions.


    ...


    A room in the Red Keep.


    The window of the room creaked open, revealing a pair ofrge, dark-skinned hands holding a raven.


    "Go, bring the news back to Sunspear," a deep voice whispered.


    The hands released the bird, which pped its wings and soared away from the Red Keep.


    Setyl poked his head out, cautiously scanning the surroundings before closing the window. He had already heard about the defeat of the Triarchy and witnessed the stance of the Royal Court advisers. Most were firmly against any alliance with Dorne, effectively ending the marriage proposal. He needed to ry this news to Prince Qoren to help him make an informed decision.


    Outside the Red Keep.


    The raven flew steadily towards the Dornish domain, its path untroubled until a small stone shot up from the ground.


    With a sharp thud, the stone struck one of the raven''s wings.


    "Gahhhh!" the raven cried, plummeting to the ground.


    From the shadows emerged a man with brown curly hair and a sly smile��Syrio.


    He approached the struggling bird, quickly retrieving the message capsule attached to its leg. "As I thought, you''re carrying a message," he murmured.


    Syrio pocketed the letter, then mercilessly broke the raven''s neck and tossed the lifeless body into the moat.


    ...


    Tyrosh, In a luxurious garden.


    In a lofty pavilion surrounded by exotic flowers and nts, several individuals sat around a round table.


    The Archon of Tyrosh, a brocade-robed old man, presided over the meeting. To his right sat a young Myrish man with ck curly hair and olive skin. Beside him were three others: a tall, fat man with dark skin and expensive clothes, a tall, thin old man with blonde hair, and an ordinary young man with short ck hair.


    Across from them, Drazenko Rogare and his brother, Lysandro Rogare, both with silver hair and blue eyes, presented a facade of calm. Lysandro, with his kind face and gentle smile, looked like a young and talented phnthropist.


    The old man in the brocade robe mmed his hand on the table, his face gloomy. "The mercenaries were wiped out, and we lost the Stepstones."


    "It''s all because you underestimated the enemy," the fat man from Myr growled, his anger palpable. "Dragonfire decimated our forces."


    "The army is gone, we lost the war!" the thin old man from Myr growled, clutching his scepter tightly.


    Drazenko''s face was equally grim. "We need to decide our next move. Should wey down and give up the Stepstones in disgrace?"


    The room fell silent. The wealthy magnates bowed their heads, calcting their gains and losses. Thest war had been disastrous for the Triarchy, resulting in heavy casualties and financial ruin for many.


    The brocade-robed old man had assassinated the previous Archon and bribed officials to secure his own election. Simrly, the Myrish governors had seized power through ruthless means. Lysandro Rogare had been thrust into his position not out of desire but necessity��his immense wealth made him the only candidate the other affluent citizens of Lys trusted.


    Now, all the people present were the losers of the previous conflict, aware of the severe repercussions of another loss. The free trade city-state''s election system was unforgiving. Failure could mean political death, or worse.


    They knew this well. The stakes were high, and the consequences of failure were dire.


    "Fight! At this point in the war, we can''t afford to back down," dered the dark-skinned fat man, mming his fist on the table.


    His family''s assets were all tied up in the war effort; bankruptcy loomed if they failed.


    The young Myrish man looked despondent. "How can we fight? The mercenaries are all dead, and no amount of money can hire more."


    "We don''t need mercenaries," Lysandro said calmly. "We can''t rely on them, but we can turn to the ver''s Bay."


    "Buy ves?" the fat man asked, his face darkening at the thought of spending more money.


    "No, buy Unsullied," Lysandro rified. "I''ve contacted the Great Master of Astapor. We can purchase 3,000 Unsullied, more than enough to handle Westeros'' forces."


    ver''s Bay was home to three cities: Yunkai, Astapor, and Meereen, known for their vast ve markets. Astapor, in particr, was famed for its Unsullied, elite ve soldiers trained from boyhood to be emotionless, obedient, and deadly effective.


    These soldiers were known for their discipline andbat prowess, famously having defeated 50,000 Dothraki riders with just 3,000 men.


    The suggestion hung in the air as each man calcted the potential costs and benefits.


    "The Unsullied are extremely expensive," the brocade-robed old man mused. "Even I would need to liquidate significant assets to afford 3,000 of them."


    "Qualityes at a price," Lysandro said evenly. "We can share the cost."


    The young Myrish man reluctantly interjected, "Against dragonfire, even the Unsullied are vulnerable."


    There was no denying the dragon''s power. In a direct confrontation, no number of soldiers could withstand the mes.


    "After the Battle of Bloodstone Ind, Westeros'' forces don''t exceed 5,000 men," Lysandro pointed out. "The Unsullied can take advantage of the night tond on the lightly defended Grey Gallows Ind and use the terrain to prolong the conflict."


    Lysandro knew that a direct battle against a dragon was folly. In thest Stepstones campaign, the Crabfeeder had used the terrain to dy the battle indefinitely, almost bringing Vryon and Daemon Targaryen''s forces to ruin.


    "It''s a sound strategy, but the Targaryens have several dragons. We''re still at a disadvantage," the brocade-robed old man said, wary of the dragons.


    Lysandro produced a letter and tossed it onto the table. "A personal letter from Qoren Martell. He''s willing to send troops to help, threatening the Targaryen rear from the Prince''s Pass."


    "The Dornish love war," the brocade-robed old man considered. "We''ll buy the Unsullied and enlist some mercenaries."


    "What tactics should we use?" Lysandro inquired, not wanting to waste the costly soldiers.


    "We''ll have the mercenaries infiltrate Grey Gallows Ind and wait for word from Dorne," the brocade-robed old man strategized. "If Dorne sends troops, we''ll deploy the Unsullied. If not, the Unsullied will serve as our shield."


    Securing their lives was the priority.


    The others contemted the n and agreed. Some had enough wealth to survive a defeat; others were desperate enough to gamble everything.


    The brocade-robed old man''s n, supported by Lysandro, bnced risk and reward, and was eptable to all.


    ...


    The Dragonpit, King��s Landing.


    A few Dragonkeepers, armed with sticks and whips, coaxed Dreamfyre out of the crypt, speaking in High Valyrian.


    Dreamfyre moved slowly, her body gleaming like polished jasper, her long tail swaying gently.


    "Dreamfyre, I''m here!" Hena called out, standing on tiptoes.


    Dreamfyre turned her head, her eyes locking onto the familiar figure of the little girl.


    Today, Hena looked different. Instead of her usual fluffy white dress, she wore a loose blue gown. Her gaze was firm as she approached the senior Dragonkeeper and spoke in rusty High Valyrian, "Saddle Dreamfyre."


    "Princess, Dreamfyre is not yet tamed and cannot be ridden," the old Dragonkeeper cautioned humbly.


    Hena clenched her fists, her tone resolute. "I will tame Dreamfyre and saddle her."


    She had left the Red Keep early in the morning, determined to tame Dreamfyre. Summoning enough courage had not been easy, and she could not let this opportunity slip away.


    The elderly Dragonkeeper hesitated for a moment before bowing respectfully. "As you wish, Princess."

 Chapter 213: Taming Dreamfyre

    Chapter 213: Taming Dreamfyre


    The sun rose higher, approaching noon.


    The throne room.


    Viserys sat on the Iron Throne, nked by his royal advisers. Lyonel held a letter and read aloud, "The Bracken House has privately moved and secretly grazed in ckwood territory at night..."


    The letter was from the Tully House of Riverrun. A few days prior, the ckwood and Bracken Houses had erupted in another conflict. Both sides had mobilized their soldiers, preparing for battle at their borders.


    Old Lord Tully of Riverrun, rmed by the esction, had sent mediators and delivered the news to King��s Landing.


    Viserys, feeling overwhelmed, interrupted, "Just get to the point. Did they fight or not?"


    He was baffled. The first ten years of his reign had been peaceful, but now chaos seemed constant. First, the Triarchy invaded the Stepstones. Then, the Mountain ns rebelled in the Vale. Now, after barely repelling the Stepstones pirates, Dorne''s intentions were uncertain, and the Rivends were in turmoil. The young king was at his wit''s end.


    Lyonel paused, then hesitantly continued, "Yes, Your Grace, there was a fight. Both sides mobilized thousands of men, resulting in many dead and wounded."


    "Damned fools!" Viserys cursed, angry. "I thought mediation had seeded. They broke their word before the Stepstones battle even concluded!"Lyonel, sweating, exined, "Your Grace, it was unavoidable. The families promised to cease hostilities and support the kingdom. But their hatred runs deep, passed down through generations."


    Viserys fumed, "So what now? Should we send another mediator?"


    Last time, Lyonel himself had mediated. Now, less than two monthster, the houses were at war again.


    Lyonel hesitated, then said helplessly, "We must continue to mediate. The ckwoods and Brackens are major houses in the Rivends, eachmanding thousands of soldiers. The kingdom needs their support in the war."


    Viserys'' veins bulged with frustration. Both houses had suffered losses, making mediation increasingly difficult.


    The hall was silent, tense.


    Viserys'' ragged breaths echoed, his frustration palpable. The royal advisors were silent, knowing the limits of their feudal system. In Westeros, nobles ruled their ownnds. The king had little authority to intervene in noble conflicts unless innocents were in danger. Mediation was the most he could offer, and even that depended on the nobles'' willingness to cooperate.


    Sending royal troops to quell unrest was impractical. Noble skirmishes, though disruptive, were part of their belief in the survival of the fittest. Strength and honor were paramount. Knights earned respect through prowess, not by keeping the peace.


    How could knights rise without these conflicts? The nobles valued thew, but their interpretation was rooted in strength and honor, not the king''s decrees.


    Seeing their father��s anger, Rhaenyra touched Rhaegar��s hand and whispered, ��Rhaegar, can you think of a solution?��


    Rhaegar froze, his eyes wide and innocent. Did he look like a wise counselor? The battle for the Stepstones wasn��t even finished, and he was still strategizing defenses for Bloodstone Ind and Grey Gallows Ind. The Dornish were lurking, and he had to stay vignt. The Rivends conflict wasn��t on his radar.


    Rhaenyra leaned closer and murmured, ��Don��t you have a lot of informants in the Rivends?��


    Rhaegar nced up at his father on the throne, then whispered back, ��Those who could be useful have already retreated to King��s Landing. Even with spies, we can''t control a feud between two great houses.��


    The enmity between the ckwood and Bracken Houses was ancient. During the Heroic Era, the ckwoods had ruled a kingdom in the Rivends, with the Brackens as their bannermen. But as the ckwoods fell from power, the Brackens rebelled, overthrowing their former liege and sowing a deep-seated feud.


    Despite countless battles, reconciliations, and intermarriages over the millennia, their animosity persisted. Numerous lords had attempted to mediate, but the hostility remained unresolved.


    Rhaenyra, well-versed in history, shot him a look that said, ��What should we do then? Should I ride Syrax to mediate?��


    Since Aegon the Conqueror established the Targaryen dynasty, Westeros��s attitude towards House Targaryen had been ambivalent��sometimes close, sometimes distant; sometimes loyal, sometimes rebellious.


    This wavering loyaltysted until thete years of Jaehaerys I, when it began to stabilize. Viserys had inherited his grandfather��s political legacy and ruled more peacefully. However, after years of rtive calm, the nobles of Westeros were growing restless.


    ��It might be time for them to remember the power of Targaryen dragons,�� Rhaenyra suggested, raising an eyebrow.


    Rhaegar sighed. ��We can��t use dragons to stop a noble feud,�� he said. ��Unless we��re prepared to annihte one sidepletely.��


    Their whispered conversation caught Viserys��s attention. He grunted and said, ��Rhaegar, speak up. What are you discussing?��


    Rhaenyra looked apologetically at her brother as Viserys''s stern gaze turned on him.


    Swallowing his anger, he allowed Rhaenyra to escape his wrath. After all, daughters were delicate creatures, a stark contrast to the son who would have to bear the brunt of his frustration.


    Rhaegar scoffed, his gaze lingering on Rhaenyra''s apologetic face. As he exited the audience chamber, he crossed his arms over his stomach, rendered speechless.


    What option did he have? Perhaps mobilize the forces of Riverrun to cate the two warring houses?


    After contemting for a moment, Rhaegar spoke softly, "Father, the two houses can��t be mediated directly. Why don��t we ask Old Lord Tully to send troops to deter them?"


    Despite the Tullys of Riverrun being somewhat ineffective, they were still the principal lords of the Rivends. While their management of bannermen might be chaotic, their soldiers and military equipment were superior to any other nobles in the region.


    Viserys rubbed his brow, clearly irritated. "That''s so simple, I don��t even need to ask you."


    Every noble behaved like their ancestors, requiring careful handling. Offend them, and while they might not react openly, they would undoubtedly plot behind the scenes. His predecessors, Aenys I, Maegor I, and Jaehaerys I, had all faced this challenge, suffering from the machinations of the xenophobic native nobles.


    Rhaegar shrugged and stepped back into line, his mind preupied with the issues in the Stepstones and Dorne. The Rivends conflict seemed trivial byparison.


    Viserys had another outburst, leaving the royal advisors scrambling. In the end, Otto Hightower''s suggestion was epted. "Let the two houses fight for a while, then mediate once they��re exhausted," he proposed.


    Otto, a former Hand of the King, was adept at navigating such conflicts. His pragmatic approach appealed to Viserys. Dying a problem was almost as good as solving it, as long as it didn''t directly threaten the throne.


    Rhaegar grimaced, realizing this solution merely postponed the inevitable. With the immediate issue resolved, Viserys adjourned the meeting. He had initially intended for Rhaegar to contact the Dornish emissary, but his foul mood led him to postpone the task for another day.


    ...


    Dragonpit


    "Roar..." Dreamfyre slumped to the ground, stretched its neck, yawned, andzily wagged its tail.


    "Dreamfyre, get up and fly me around," Henamanded, patting the dragon''s spine.


    The young princess, d in a blue dress that matched Dreamfyre''s scales, looked like an extension of the dragon itself. An elderly Dragonkeeper stood nervously in front of them, a half-man-tall saddle at his feet.


    "Princess, please get off the dragon''s back," he pleaded. Dreamfyre''s temper was notoriously bad, and the Dragonkeeper couldn��t get close enough to saddle it.


    But Hena, fueled by an unknown courage, had already climbed up Dreamfyre''s side, using its wings for leverage. After a few stumbles, she seeded.


    Grabbing a piece of Dreamfyre''s back scale, Hena, her face flushed with effort, urged, "Dreamfyre, listen to me."


    Yet, Dreamfyre remained indifferent. Unlike her with her mother, the dragon showed no signs of obedience to Hena''smands.


    "Roar..." Dreamfyre yawned again, closed its eyes, and seemed intent on sleeping.


    Frustrated, Hena pounded Dreamfyre''s spine with her small fists, not realizing her hands were bing red and swollen.


    "Dreamfyre, just fly me around a bit and let them know I��m not to be messed with," she pleaded, tears forming in her eyes. Crawling to the top of Dreamfyre''s head, she sniffled and continued, "My brother said I can be a dragon rider. I will tame you."


    Her life had been a series of disappointments. People whispered that she was mentally ill. Her brother Aegon tormented or ignored her, and her sister Rhaenyra treated her harshly. Even her father, Viserys, seemed to care more for her siblings.


    In her young heart, only Rhaegar cared and encouraged her. His belief in her was a rare source of strength.


    "Dreamfyre, fly up for me, fly up!" Hena stood, clutching a bent dragon horn, her eyes squeezed shut.


    Pouring all her courage into thatmand, she sought to prove her worth, to show she was a true Targaryen like her siblings.


    Snap.


    Dreamfyre lifted its head andshed its tail against the ck stone floor, turning to look at the determined girl on its back. It sensed something new, something it hadn��t felt since itsst rider, Rhaena.


    Slowly, Dreamfyre rose from the ground, its wings spreading wide. It pped them twice, tentatively.


    "Dreamfyre, fly!" Hena��s trembling voice called out again.


    Clinging to the dragon''s horn, eyes shut tight with fear, Hena held on as Dreamfyre took flight. In that moment, she wasn��t just a little girl; she was a dragon rider, a Targaryen proving her existence to the world.

 Chapter 214: God’s Eye Lake, Isle of Faces

    Chapter 214: God��s Eye Lake, Isle of Faces


    Hena''smand was tinged with fear, her voice trembling, but her courage was undeniable in that moment.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre responded with a powerful roar, propelling itself forward on its hind legs and pping its massive wings. The sudden gust of wind stirred the dust around them. With a few mighty strides, the dragon covered a significant distance.


    The elderly Dragonkeeper, rmed by the sudden movement, shouted to the other keepers at the entrance of the Dragonpit, "Open the gate!"


    He had witnessed Targaryens taming dragons before and understood that he must not interfere with the bond forming between Hena and Dreamfyre. Yet, he also knew that they couldn''t allow Dreamfyre to wreak havoc inside the Dragonpit.


    The Dragonkeepers, sensing the urgency, quickly obeyed and opened the massive gates.


    Boom!


    Dreamfyre surged forward, its wings fully extended, and with a powerful leap, it burst out of the confines where it had been imprisoned for decades.


    "Roar!"A mighty roar echoed throughout King''s Landing as the azure-scaled dragon ascended into the sky, free once more.


    "Dreamfyre, fly up!" Hena, her eyes still tightly shut, repeated hermand, unaware of their rapid ascent.


    Dreamfyre unleashed a spectacr burst of blue and orange dragonfire, lighting up the sky like fireworks.


    "Fly, Dreamfyre!" Hena continued to shout, mistaking the dragonfire��s heat for the fever of excitement.


    "Roar..." Dreamfyre''s roar carried a note of recognition. In its eyes, Hena''s courage mirrored that of its previous rider, Rhaena.


    If only the dragon could express it, that feeling might be called "courage."


    Soaring above King''s Landing, Dreamfyre exhaled mes repeatedly, venting the frustration and sorrow it had umted over the years.


    After circling the city for a while, Dreamfyre turned its gaze northwest. With a powerful flick of its wings, it surged out of King''s Landing and into the clouds, carrying Hena on an unforgettable flight.


    ...


    Themotion caused by Dreamfyre''s flight startled all of King''s Landing.


    Rhaegar was meeting with Syrio to examine an intercepted letter when he heard the dragon''s roar. He looked out the window in amazement.


    Through the ss he saw the massive blue dragon hovering over the city, spewing dragonfire.


    "Dreamfyre!?" Rhaegar eximed, stunned to see the dragon out of the Dragonpit.


    As Dreamfyre flew closer to the Red Keep, he noticed a small figure atop the dragon''s head. With his sharp eyesight, Rhaegar realized it was Hena.


    "Oh no, she didn''t even put on a saddle before getting on the dragon''s back!" Panic seized Rhaegar. He immediately abandoned his meeting with Syrio and rushed out of the room.


    Momentster, he pushed past the guards trying to stop him and dashed out of the Red Keep''s gate.


    "Roar !"


    A deep dragon roar resonated from the depths of the Dragonpit. A dark shadow burst from the crypt and flew out through the still-open gate.


    Cannibal, with its green eyes scanning below, soared high into the sky. Spotting its target, the dragon swooped down toward the Red Keep''s gate.


    Boom!


    The dragonnded, sending up a cloud of smoke and dust.


    "Cannibal, catch up with Dreamfyre!" Rhaegar shouted as he emerged from the swirling dust, quickly and nimbly climbing onto the dragon''s back.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal unfurled its wings and took off, demonstrating its agility.


    ...


    Meanwhile, on the other side:


    Dreamfyre soared through the clouds, roaring with excitement, celebrating its return to the sky.


    "Dreamfyre, you''re flying too fast," Hena called out, her voice tinged with nervousness. She had finally opened her eyes and was looking down at the billowing clouds below, gripping Dreamfyre''s horn tightly.


    After the dragon had flown out of King''s Landing, the moistness of the clouds had woken her. Now, Hena''s heart was a mix of excitement and fear. She wanted Dreamfyre to take her on a grand tour of the skies, but her hands and feet were numb, barely able to maintain her grip.


    "Roar..." Dreamfyre let out a yful growl and shook its head, causing Hena to clench her teeth in fright. Finally free from its confinement, Dreamfyre was determined to enjoy its flight.


    Hena, though afraid, was also filled with a newfound courage. Dreamfyre sensed this and, with a sh of pride in its eyes, sped up, showing off its agility with impressive maneuvers through the clouds. Despite decades of confinement, Dreamfyre moved with the grace and speed of a much younger dragon.


    Hena, however, was struggling. The dragon''s rapid twists and turns made her dizzy and nauseous, but Dreamfyre showed no signs of slowing down.


    "I��m not afraid. Brother said I can do it. I��ll be fine," she whispered to herself, pressing her cheeks against the dragon��s horn.


    She hoped someone would realize she had been taken by Dreamfyre ande to her rescue. After about ten minutes, a gust of wind signaled another presence in the sky.


    Hena, drowsy from the flight, looked up to see a dark dragon shadow above her. The massive form of Cannibal loomed overhead, blocking out the sun.


    "Hena!" Rhaegar''s voice rang out, calling her name.


    "Brother... brother!" Hena cried out in relief, spotting her brother��s tall figure riding Cannibal.


    "Hold on to the dragon''s horn. Dreamfyre will bending soon," Rhaegar shouted, his voice full of reassurance.


    "Okay, brother," Hena responded obediently, gripping the horn tighter, her light purple eyes fixed on Rhaegar.


    Seeing his sister was safe, Rhaegar sighed with relief. He had feared she might fall from Dreamfyre��s back. Dreamfyre was no ordinary young dragon; it was a full-grown dragon with a fierce temper, capable of causing great harm if not properly managed.


    He remembered his own struggles trying to tame it, so he marveled at Hena��s bravery.


    "Roar..."


    At the sight of Cannibal, Dreamfyre was startled and roared shrilly, elerating its flight. The massive dragon above was not to be trifled with. Cannibal''s odor, a fishy scent mixed with the stench of dragon remains, filled the air.


    Cannibal red down at the blue dragon, its pupils shing with disdain. It had abstained from dragon meat for years, but it still remembered the taste.


    After about ten minutes, the two dragons lowered their altitude, revealing arge, wideke below. The turquoise water rippled as a ck swan swam by. In the center of theke stood a lush, green ind.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre roared excitedly, circling theke. The sound echoed, sending the ck swans into a panic. They pped their wings and fled, causing a flurry of white sshes.


    Dreamfyre skimmed low over the water, creating waves on the surface. Hena looked around with curiosity, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.


    Finally, Dreamfyrended on the ind in the middle of theke. Cannibal, hovering above, followed andnded nearby, its gaze eerily fixed on Dreamfyre.


    Rhaegar quickly dismounted from Cannibal and ran toward Dreamfyre. "Hena,e down here," he called.


    As Dreamfyre drank from theke, Hena let go of its horns and stood up, trembling. Hearing her brother''s call, she asked nervously, "Do I jump down?"


    Rhaegar, taken aback by the question, smiled wryly. "Slide off the dragon''s back. I''ll catch you."


    Hena obediently climbed from Dreamfyre''s head to its spine and slid down along its tail. Rhaegar stood ready below, catching her as she descended.


    As soon as Hena was in his arms, she wrapped herself around him like an octopus, tears streaming down her face. "Brother... wow, wow, wow..."


    While she had managed to maintain someposure on Dreamfyre''s back, the fear overwhelmed her once she was on the ground and she felt a tightness in her stomach.


    St...


    Rhaegar pped her lightly on the buttocks and said, "Why are you crying? Riding a dragon in secret - do you know how dangerous that is?"


    The scene of Hena taming Dreamfyre reminded him of his own experiences with Cannibal. It was always the same: ride the dragon or risk falling to your death.


    "I''m sorry... I know I was wrong," Hena sniffled, not quite sure what she had done wrong, but admitting her guilt anyway. She had wanted to prove herself by taming the dragon, and she had seeded, even if Dreamfyre wasn''tpletely obedient yet.


    Seeing her so upset, Rhaegar''s anger softened. He patted her gently on the back and encouraged her, "Don''t cry. You have sessfully ridden a dragon; you are already a dragon rider."


    "Really?" Hena asked, her eyes wide and tearful.


    "Of course," Rhaegar nodded. "Dreamfyre recognizes you. From now on, you are its master."


    "I''m awesome," Hena whispered, trying to hold back her tears.


    Rhaegar chuckled. "Yes, you are powerful. A true Targaryen."


    "Well, I''m as powerful as you," Hena said, nodding vigorously, her messy hair shaking around her face.


    Rhaegar hugged her with one arm and gently brushed the hair from her face with the other, feeling a surge of pride. His little sister was growing up.


    "Come down, I''ll help you tie your hair," he said.


    He set her down and gathered her thick, long hair, tying it back into a neat bun with a thin rope. Hena squinted in enjoyment, then asked, "Brother, where are we?"


    "God''s Eye Lake, on the Isle of Faces," Rhaegar replied, surveying their surroundings.


    Hena blinked and pointed towards a distant structure, "Is that the Hand of the King''s castle?"


    Rhaegar looked in the direction she indicated. Through the dense vegetation, he could make out the ruins of a dark tower. He knew it was thergest castle in Westeros��Harrenhal.


    Harrenhal had been built by Harren the ck, who spent 40 years constructing it, exhausting countless enved captives. Rumor had it that Harren mixed human blood with mud and ash to build the castle.


    At the beginning of the Conquest, Harrenhal had just beenpleted. When Aegon the Conqueror attacked, Harren the ck hid inside with his children, believing the dragons couldn''t breach his fortress. But Aegon flew over Harrenhal on Balerion, the ck Dread, and unleashed dragonfire hot enough to melt stone. The five towers of Harrenhal were incinerated, and Harren and his descendants were buried alive.


    Over the past hundred years, Harrenhal had seen many owners. After Rhaena Targaryen''s death, the castle was left uninhabited until Jaehaerys I gave it to House Strong. The current lord of Harrenhal was Lyonel Strong.

 Chapter 215: Brothers, Walk Forward!

    Chapter 215: Brothers, Walk Forward!


    Rhaegar looked at the ruins of Harrenhal''s towers and chuckled softly. "Yes, that''s the Hand''s castle. I''ve been a guest there a few times."


    Harrenhaly in the heart of the Rivends, surrounded by fertilends. Rhaegar had a good rtionship with Lord Tully of Riverrun and asionally stopped at Harrenhal to rest for the night.


    "Will we be guests?" Helena asked quietly, tilting her head.


    Rhaegar ruffled her hair and smiled. "Dreamfyre has caused quite a stir. We must return to King''s Landing first."


    "Oh," Hena nodded, herrge eyes still fixed on Harrenhal.


    Harrenhal covered a vast area with five towering spires. Despite being partially melted by Balerion''s fire, the towers were still taller than most castles. The siblings could see its outline clearly from the Isle of Faces.


    "Fire!" Helena eximed suddenly, her expression distant.


    Rhaegar, not yet sensing anything wrong, asked, "What?"


    Hena murmured, "The warhorses are charging.""Hena, can you hear me?" Rhaegar knelt and waved his hand in front of her eyes. He recognized this strange condition - Hena often fell into prophetic trances.


    She blinked twice and answered nkly, "Brother, I can hear you."


    Rhaegar gently held her shoulders. "What did you just see?"


    "I don''t remember," she replied innocently, tilting her head in confusion.


    Rhaegar hugged her tightly and whispered, "It''s okay, just forget about it."


    Hena rested her chin on his shoulder and murmured an uncertain "Oh."


    Over the years, Hena''s prophecies were usually quickly forgotten, probably a protective mechanism to shield her mind from overwhelming visions.


    Lifting her up, Rhaegar said, "Let''s get back to King''s Landing."


    Hena nodded, unusually quiet. Dreamfyre, having drunk from theke, rested on the shore, elegantly swishing its tail.


    "Brother, I want to ride Dreamfyre," Hena dered, staring wide-eyed at her dragon.


    Rhaegar frowned. "Are you sure? Dreamfyre doesn''t have a saddle yet."


    "I won''t fall off," Hena said confidently, puffing out her small chest. She wanted to ride her dragon back to King''s Landing and show everyone she was a true dragon rider.


    "Alright, hold on to the back scales andmunicate with Dreamfyre," Rhaegar advised, choosing to trust her.


    All Targaryen children had to tame their dragons. A saddle was helpful but not essential. He remembered when he was six, riding Cannibal without a saddle all over the world.


    "Brother, wait until I take off, then follow me."


    Hena broke free of Rhaegar''s embrace and ran toward Dreamfyre.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre roared, its eyes fixed on its rider, waiting for her.


    With nimble hands and feet, Hena climbed onto the dragon''s back, using one of its wings as a foothold.


    "Dreamfyre, let''s go," shemanded, her small face set with determination.


    Dreamfyre pped her wings vigorously and took to the air. But instead of heading back to King''s Landing, she circled God''s Eye Lake. After decades of confinement, Dreamfyre wanted to explore the familiar area where it had once lived.


    Lying on the dragon''s back, Hena watched in frustration as Dreamfyre ignored hermands. Her cheeks puffed out in anger.


    Below, Rhaegar mounted Cannibal, ready to intervene. It was normal for a newly tamed adult dragon to be disobedient after decades in captivity. Cannibal, too, seemed ready to help.


    Suddenly, a fierce cry pierced the air.


    "Dreamfyre, either listen to me or throw me in theke!"


    Rhaegar looked up in surprise. Hena had climbed onto Dreamfyre''s head, clutching the dragon''s horns and shouting with determination. Her face was flushed with rage.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre turned sharply, almost throwing Hena off. But instead of shrieking, Hena shouted louder, "Dreamfyre, obey mymand!"


    She showed no fear, using her defiant spirit to assert control over the dragon.


    "Roar..."


    Reluctantly, Dreamfyre changed direction and flew toward King''s Landing.


    Henaughed and rubbed her face against the dragon''s horn in triumph.


    Rhaegar, witnessing this disy of bravery, smiled. "Cannibal, let''s follow them."


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared softly, its hind feet leaving distinctive marks on the ground as it spread its wings and took off.


    For the first time, Rhaegar noticed that Cannibal had a habit of marking its territory, a trait he hadn''t observed before.


    ...


    King''s Landing, Red Keep.


    Alicent found her husband, her face etched with worry. "Viserys, Hena was taken by that blue dragon."


    Viserys embraced her, his voice soothing. "Don''t worry, Hena has been in contact with Dreamfyre. She may have sessfully tamed the dragon."


    "But that dragon has a violent temper. Rhaegar was hurt by it once," Alicent said, leaning into his arms, jittery. She wasn''t a Targaryen by birth and had been educated in the Sept of Oldtown and the Faith of the Seven, which instilled in her an inexplicable fear of dragons.


    "Rhaegar went after her. He will protect his sister," Viserys replied with a confident smile. He had faith in his eldest son''s abilities. Cannibal, the ck dragon, was so fierce that all the dragons in the Dragonpit feared it. Dreamfyre wouldn��t dare defy Cannibal.


    Alicent looked sad, her head buried in her husband''s chest. She had broken with her father and now relied solely on Viserys in the vast city of King''s Landing. The two of them cuddled as time slowly passed.


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, a dragon''s roar echoed across King''s Landing, reverberating through half the city.


    Alicent hastily broke from Viserys'' embrace and looked out the window. The sky was a canvas of blue and white, with two dragons, one ck and one blue, dancing between the clouds, chasing each other as if in a ballet.


    Dreamfyre''s eyes were filled with vignce as it quickly swooped down, heading straight for the Dragonpit on the hill. Cannibal hovered overhead, casting a massive shadow over the ground.


    "Bless the Seven Gods, my child has returned," Alicent whispered, sping her hands in silent prayer.


    That night, Viserys organized a feast to honor his youngest daughter''s sessful taming of a dragon.


    ...


    The next day, a meeting convened in the Throne Room. The advisers of the Small Council were present, along with Queen Alicent and Lady Jeyne. Rhaegar and his siblings��Hena, Aemond, and Daeron��were also present.


    The Small Council, led by Lyonel Strong, stood on the left side of the hall. Rhaegar and Rhaenyra, apanied by their siblings, stood on the right. Alicent and Jeyne stood beside Rhaenyra.


    When everyone was assembled, the Kingsguard, Ser Steffon Darklyn, announced loudly, "An audience with the envoy of Dorne!"


    As the doors opened, Ser Setyl Dayne strode into the hall. He first looked at Viserys on the Iron Throne and bowed respectfully, "Your Grace."


    Then he bowed slightly to Alicent, "Your Grace," though his eyes darted toward the children surrounding Rhaegar. Hena bit her lower lip, her gaze sharp and wary. Aemond, looking timid, stood protectively in front of his sister. Daeron, the youngest, peeked curiously from behind Rhaegar.


    Viserys, watching the scene from the throne, felt both pleased and remorseful at the unity of his children. He cleared his throat and said, "Lyonel, make the announcement."


    "Yes, Your Grace." Lyonel straightened his posture, his round belly protruding, and dered proudly, "Envoy, the king refuses to marry the princess."


    Setyl frowned. "Why? A marriage would bring peace and benefit both sides."


    "Princess Helena sessfully tamed her dragon yesterday and expressed to His Grace that she does not wish to marry in and as far away as Dorne," Lyonel exined, ncing at the envoy. "His Grace is a forgiving and merciful monarch. The princess will remain in King''s Landing, enjoying the care of her parents and brothers."


    This was the reasoning Rhaegar had devised on Hena''s behalf. A Targaryen with a dragon was far more valuable than one without. Hena''s sess in taming Dreamfyre had greatly increased her worth. If she didn''t want to marry, she could simply ride her dragon away, and no one could stop her.


    Setyl''s face darkened. "Marriage is an important matter between twonds. How can it be changed for personal reasons?"


    The Targaryens had two princesses. If the eldest princess was too high-ranking to marry and the youngest too young to marry, where did that leave Dorne? Would this not insult Prince Qoren Martell?


    Rhaegar stepped forward with a smile. "Envoy, I heard that Prince Qoren has a daughter?"


    Setyl''s eyes flickered. "Yes, Princess Aliandra is just three years old."


    "What a wonderful name. She will surely be a beauty in the future," Rhaegar praised before changing his tone. "If Prince Qoren is sincere about the marriage, he could marry his daughter to a Targaryen, facilitating the union between our houses."


    "But Prince, Princess Aliandra is only three years old!" Setyl objected.


    "It doesn''t matter," Rhaegar said. "We can arrange an engagement now and marry when she''s old enough."


    Setyl sneered. "You''re already thirteen. Can you really wait ten years?"


    Rhaegar remained indifferent. "Princess Arianne is young enough to be a perfect match for one of my brothers."


    With that, he pulled the confused Aemond and Daeron, who was hiding behind him, and pushed them forward.


    "Brother... brother..." Aemond''s face flushed red with embarrassment. He hadn''t expected to be thrust into the spotlight.


    Rhaegar squinted at him and said sternly, "Straighten your back. Show your royal demeanor to the envoy. You might have the chance to marry a Dornish princess."


    Aemond, his face bitter, obediently lifted his chest and head, not daring to defy his elder brother.


    Rhaegar ignored his reluctance. Younger siblings were there to be used when necessary. With Aegon sent to Stepstones, Aemond and Daeron had to be put to good use. They were all political assets created for him by his "good" stepmother, Alicent.

 Chapter 216: Sister and Brother Mutual Understanding

    Chapter 216: Sister and Brother Mutual Understanding


    Setyl red at the two young Targaryens, his expression growing increasingly sour.


    His mission was to secure a Targaryen princess for Prince Qoren, not to offer his own. Marrying Rhaegar Targaryen, the heir, would be eptable, but marrying a lesser prince held no appeal. After a moment of thought, Setyl controlled his temper.


    "Prince, Prince Qoren seeks a marriage alliance with a Targaryen princess, not to give away one of our own," Setyl exined.


    "Oh?" Rhaegar feigned surprise. "Didn''t you just say that marriage between two houses should not be hindered by personal factors?"


    "Prince, Princess Aliandra has no intention of marrying at this time," Setyl replied. "When I left, Prince Qoren made no mention of such a proposal, so I cannot make that decision."


    "No matter," Rhaegar replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "We have time to discuss it. My younger brothers are of the right age and can afford to wait."


    Daeron nced at Rhaegar, understanding his older brother''s intention to make things difficult for the envoy. He yed along, puffing out his chest in mock seriousness.


    Setyl''s frustration was obvious. His already dark skin seemed to darken with anger. "If His Grace and the Prince have no intention of marrying in Dorne, I will report this to Prince Qoren."


    Rhaegar''s smile faded. "Who is truly unwilling to marry, I wonder? Surely, the envoy knows.""The refusal of both Targaryen princesses is an insult to Prince Qoren!" Setyl retorted indignantly.


    "Oh, really?" Rhaegar produced a letter from his sleeve, his expression turning cold.


    Setyl froze, a sense of foreboding washing over him.


    Rhaegar took the letter and approached him, his movements graceful yet scornful. "Shall I read this letter you sent to Sunspear for you?"


    "What?" Setyl couldn''t believe his ears. He snatched the letter and quickly scanned its contents. Recognizing his own words, his face turned pale.


    With trembling hands, Setyl stammered, "You intercepted my raven?"


    Viserys, having read the letter, spoke in a grave tone. "Envoy, both Qoren and youck sincerity."


    The letter contained trivial information, objections to the marriage, and disparaging remarks about Viserys himself.


    The false veil of diplomacy lifted, and Setyl, now doubly nervous, tried to exin, "Forgive me, Your Grace, for my indiscretions. I truly came with the intent of forging a union."


    "Silence, scheming Dornishman!" Lyonel Strong chided, his contempt undisguised.


    Setyl''s face darkened, and he felt the hostile gazes of those around him.


    Otto Hightower, observing from the sidelines, frowned slightly. The arrogance of the Dornish envoy was surprising, even to him.


    Master of Coin Lyman Beesbury stepped forward, his pale cheeks flushed with anger. "Your Grace, Prince Qoren is mocking the kingdom. It''s shameless."


    Lyman Beesbury was the lord of Honeyholt in the Reach, and naturally he had a low opinion of Dorn.


    Grand Maester Mellos frowned. "Does Dorne seek to worsen rtions with the kingdom by sending such a envoy?"


    Viserys felt justified in his anger. "Dorne''s envoycks sincerity. Expel him."


    Steffon Darklyn, the Kingsguard, stepped forward to seize the panicked Setyl.


    Setyl, though terrified, felt a slight relief. Expulsion was not the worst oue.


    But someone else disagreed. Rhaenyra and Rhaegar exchanged nces, both showing dissatisfaction.


    Rhaegar''s expression turned cold. "Whose territory do you think King''s Landing is, where you can escape your misdeeds?"


    "Prince, I meant no offense," Setyl pleaded.


    "But you have offended," Rhaegar retorted, approaching him with a cold gaze.


    Viserys, not wanting bloodshed, warned, "Rhaegar, he is an envoy. Just expel him."


    "Father, the Dornish are our enemies. Mercy is unnecessary," Rhaegar replied, drawing his sword.


    He looked at Aemond and Daeron. "Watch how Targaryen men solve problems. I''ll only show you once."


    Viserys shouted, "Rhaegar, what are you doing?!"


    Rhaegar ignored him, signaling the guards to step back. "No! I am an envoy..." Setyl broke free and tried to run.


    "When Dorne attacked the Stepstones, did you consider you might die?" Rhaegar whispered, swinging his sword and severing half of Setyl''s head.


    Setyl''s mutted corpse fell, sttering the ground with blood and filth.


    Silence filled the Throne Room. Rhaegar''s cold efficiency left a chilling impression on all present.


    "Ah!..."


    Alicent whimpered as the bloody scene unfolded, her face pale and stricken. Aemond and Daeron stood frozen, staring at their older brother Rhaegar in shock.


    Rhaegar turned and wiped his blood-stained sword on his cloak. "Have you learned?" he asked coldly.


    Aemond swallowed hard and looked at Rhaegar with a mixture of fear and admiration. Daeron, still young, closed his eyes in fear and grabbed Aemond''s arm for support.


    Rhaegar scanned his siblings, his gaze lingering on Hena. Unlike the others, her eyes were wide with excitement and longing. She took a step closer to Rhaegar, oblivious to the bloodshed and without a trace of fear.


    Deep down, she thought, "Indeed, dragons bring courage to people!"


    The advisers of the Small Council were visibly shaken. They hadn''t expected the Prince to kill so ruthlessly. Otto Hightower frowned deeply, lowering his head to hide his reaction. He saw shades of Daemon in Rhaegar��a resemnce he despised.


    "Rhaegar, look what you''ve done!" Viserys rose in anger, pointing at the body lying in a pool of blood. "When two countries are at war, they don��t kill envoys. Killing the messenger like this could provoke Qoren Martell!"


    Rhaegar sheathed his sword, facing his father with a solemn expression. "Father, Dorne is involved in the Battle of the Stepstones. Conflict with the kingdom is inevitable."


    Viserys rebuked him angrily, "Then you should have let the messenger return, not killed him in public!"


    "The Dornish are not as honorable as we are," Rhaegar retorted, hanging his head as if chastised. The history of Dornish treachery was well known, with countless instances of ambassadors and captives being killed.


    "You..." Viserys was momentarily speechless. Turning to the royal guards, he snapped, "Why don��t you carry the body out? Are you waiting for it to dry?"


    Steffon Darklyn, the Kingsguard, bowed his head in shame and hurried to remove the body.


    "Dismissed!" Viserys, furious, stormed out of the hall. The others quickly followed, not wanting to incur his wrath.


    Rhaegar shrugged, feeling no remorse. He had wanted to kill the Dornish envoy for a long time.


    "Apologize to Fatherter," Rhaenyra whispered, taking his hand. She had yed a role in the envoy''s demise and knew it was wise to reconcile.


    Rhaegar nodded, understanding the need to appease their father. Viserys was often fragile and prone to self-doubt.


    Jeyne approached, taking Rhaegar''s other arm. "How about saying goodbye and apanying me to the Dragonpit? I quite like that young dragon called Stormcloud."


    "Get off, Jeyne!" Rhaenyra hissed through gritted teeth, her eyes shing with anger.


    Jeyne smiled wryly, releasing Rhaegar and turning to take her friend''s arm instead.


    ...


    After lunch, Rhaegar approached his father to apologize, but Viserys scolded him harshly. Rhaegar took the rebuke stoically and left the room, seemingly unfazed. As he pushed open the door, he encountered Otto Hightower, dressed in green.


    "Ser Otto, what is it?" Rhaegar asked, a note of suspicion in his voice.


    Otto nodded and replied, "There are some matters regarding the street cleanup that need to be reported to His Grace."


    "Street cleaning is not easy. Hard work, Ser Otto," Rhaegar said distractedly as he brushed past him.


    The street-cleaning program was actually a matter that Rhaegar had proposed. Alicent had pushed heavily for her father, Otto, to oversee the project. The former Hand of the King had returned to King''s Landing to serve as a advisor.


    But a month had passed with little noticeable change in the city. The new Master of Civil Affairs would need to work harder.


    As night fell, Otto emerged from the king''s chambers. He and Viserys had had a long discussion about the management of the streets of King''s Landing. It wasn''t just about cleaning; it was aboutprehensive management.


    To aplish the task, Otto had hired a group of poor men and paid them to do the work. Each day at dawn, these men, armed with shovels and dustpans, cleared the streets of excrement.


    Wagons were then used to transport the waste out of the city for collective burial. This method, however, proved inadequate.


    The people of King''s Landing continued to relieve themselves in the streets every day. Moreover, after some people cleaned the streets, others would throw various types of garbage back into them, adding to the burden of the sanitation workers. Otto tried to persuade the citizens to stop littering, but his efforts were in vain.


    He then enlisted the Gold Cloaks to enforce stricter regtions against public dumping, but this move backfired. The people reacted strongly, filled with criticism.


    When the Gold Cloaks tried to enforce the rules, they were met with retaliation, including having feces and urine thrown at them. Otto, as the Master of Civil Affairs, was also harshly questioned, as if he had incited the wrath of both God and the people.


    The people of King''s Landing were adamant: "If there''s no shit or piss in the street, there''s no justice! How can we not relieve ourselves?"


    This resistance led to Otto earning the derogatory nickname "Master of Shit and Piss." The moniker became particrly well-known in the chaotic area of Flea Bottom, underscoring the immense challenge Otto faced in attempting to improve the city��s sanitation.

 Chapter 217: Aegon’s Defiance

    Chapter 217: Aegon��s Defiance


    Half a monthter.


    King''s Landing, the old city gates.


    Rhaegar stood at the gates and watched as a four-wheeled chariot rolled away, nked by a group of well-equipped guards.


    "s, there is no end to the chaos in the Rivends. Mediation seems futile," Rhaegar sighed softly, then turned to leave.


    Inside the carriage sat Lyonel Strong, Hand of the King. The ongoing feud between the ckwood and Bracken Houses had only intensified, with several skirmishes involving armies of over a thousand men shattering the peace across half the Rivends.


    Lord Tully of Riverrun, unable to withstand the pressure, had once again requested royal intervention, leaving Viserys no choice but to send Lyonel.


    ...


    Rhaegar strolled through the streets of King''s Landing, heading towards the Dragonpit atop the Hill of Rhaenys. His route from the old city gates to the Rivends led him through Silk Street, the busiest market in King''s Landing, teeming with people.


    As he walked through Silk Street, Rhaegar noticed a stark difference. The street, usually foul-smelling but rtively tidy, was now littered with filth.The stench was overwhelming, especially in the sweltering July heat, with urine and feces baking in the sun. Rhaegar''s sensitive senses could not bear the stench, causing him to quicken his pace.


    Behind him, a Gold Cloak shouted, "Discharging filth in the streets is prohibited! Offenders will be heavily punished!"


    The response was a cacophony of spitting and cursing from the disgruntled popce.


    Rhaegar quickly deduced that Otto''s policies were meeting fierce resistance.


    "Wait a little longer," he muttered, swiftly leaving Silk Street.


    ...


    At noon, under the scorching sun, Rhaegar descended the steps inside the Dragonpit. As he reached the bottom, he spotted Jeyne holding the young dragon, Stormcloud.


    "Roar..." Stormcloud, still the size of a cat, perched on Jeyne''s arm. His bright silver scales glistened as he peered out with his tiny head.


    Jeyne smiled and tried to pet the baby dragon, but he yfully avoided her touch.


    "Jeyne?" Rhaegar called, confused, his gaze shifting between her and the dragon.


    Stormcloud was known for his bad temper and would not let anyone near him except Rhaegar. Even Rhaenyra couldn''t get near him, and the dragonkeepers had to shackle one of his hind legs to keep him from flying around and wreaking havoc.


    Jeyne turned at the sound of Rhaegar''s voice and beamed, "Rhaegar, isn''t he adorable?"


    "Yes, it''s amazing," Rhaegar said in amazement. "Stormcloud doesn''t reject you."


    Jeyne tilted her head thoughtfully, "He won''t attack me, but he won''t let me touch him either."


    "Roar..." As soon as Stormcloud saw Rhaegar, he pped his wings and staggered over to sit on Rhaegar''s shoulder, nuzzling his cheek happily.


    Rhaegar patted the young dragon''s head and chuckled to Jeyne, "The little one is very fussy and a bit dangerous."


    It was indeed rare for Jeyne, who wasn''t a Targaryen, to be tolerated by Stormcloud. The Targaryens and the Arryns had intermarried for generations. Rhaegar''s grandmother, Dae Targaryen, had married Lord Rodrik Arryn.


    Their daughter, Aemma Arryn, married Viserys and gave birth to Rhaenyra and Rhaegar. Thus, Rhaegar and Jeyne were distant cousins, but her Targaryen blood was very diluted.


    "Stormcloud is beautiful," Jeyne said, her eyes twinkling as she watched the dragon and Rhaegar. "Ie to see him often."


    Rhaegar avoided her gaze, feeling a shiver run down his spine.


    "Prince, a message from the Stepstones!" Erryk called out, hurrying into the Dragonpit.


    Rhaegar snapped to attention and met him halfway. "What��s the situation?"


    Erryk handed over an opened letter and said solemnly, "The Triarchy hired mercenaries and invaded Grey Gallows Ind during the night."


    The letter had passed through the hands of the Grand Maester and the King before reaching Rhaegar. He scanned it quickly.


    The King''s forces on the Stepstones Inds numbered over four thousand, primarily defending Bloodstone Ind. Grey Gallows Ind, lightly defended, had been recaptured by the Triarchy. Aegon and Laenor had attacked with their dragons, but the enemy hid in caves, refusing to engage.


    Rhaegar pped the letter against Erryk''s chest. "I''ll go to Bloodstone Ind first and assess the situation."


    Sensing his mood, Stormcloud panicked and leapt from his shoulder, flying away.


    "Roar!" A deep, resonant roar echoed from the crypt as the Dragonpit gate opened.


    Rhaegar stepped outside just as the Cannibal, his massive ck dragon, emerged like a shadow. The dragon soared over Rhaegar''s head beforending with a thud. Rhaegar swiftly climbed the dragon''sdder, mounted, and took off across ckwater Bay.


    ...


    Bloodstone Ind


    A dark shadow of a dragon shed across the vast ocean andnded on the debris-strewn desert ind.


    "Cousin!" Laenor shouted, leading a crowd ofmanders to meet Rhaegar as he dismounted from his dragon.


    "Prince..." several others echoed, bowing slightly.


    Rhaegar wasted no time. "Grey Gallows Ind is lost. Have the Triarchy made any other moves?"


    Laenor shook his head. "No, they remain hidden in the caves and refuse toe out."


    "They''re trying to use the crabfeeder''s tactics," Rhaegar sneered, showing his disdain. It wasn''t a clever strategy, but it had been surprisingly effective during the Ind War. Although he didn''t have a perfect solution, he needed to project confidence to maintain morale.


    "Cousin, let''s discuss this in the tent," Laenor suggested, leaning in to whisper, "Aegon''s been in a foul moodtely, and House Manderly from White Harbor has sent someone to inquire."


    "House Manderly?" Rhaegar frowned. Aegon was the least of his concerns��he''d always beenzy and was probably bored out of his mind, stuck on Bloodstone Ind all day. The Manderlys, however, were crucial.


    They controlled one of the five major ports in Westeros and were significant bannermen to the Starks in the North.


    Early in the War for the Stepstones, Laenor had secured their support, bringing over a dozen ships and 1,400 soldiers. During the Battle of Bloodstone, the Manderly heir had conspired with Tnd and others, only to die amidst the chaos.


    "We should go see them," Rhaegar said, sensing that the visitors likely brought bad news.


    Inside the Tent


    Upon entering the tent, Rhaegar immediately noticed three figures with distinctly different demeanors. Aegon, with an angry expression, sulked in the corner. An older, rotund man with needle-like white hair was speaking animatedly, his spittle flying. Opposite him sat Vaemond, his face dark and stiff.


    The sound of Rhaegar''s entrance drew their attention.


    "Rhaegar..." Aegon''s eyes lit up momentarily, but his joy quickly faded. He was determined to return to King''s Landing and knew he had to reason with his elder brother today.


    "Prince Rhaegar, you have finally arrived!"


    The obese old man, Ser Wyston, red at Rhaegar and approached menacingly.


    "Ser Wyston, keep your distance!" Laenor stepped in front of him, cing a hand against his chest.


    Rhaegar bypassed them, walked over to the conference table, and sat down. "Ser Wyston, what is your purpose here?" he asked, his voice calm but authoritative.


    Laenor had briefed Rhaegar on the way. Wyston was the brother of the Lord of White Harbor and was here to seek justice for his deceased nephew.


    "Prince, my nephew died for his kingdom. Where is the murderer who killed him?" Wyston''s voice was loud and usatory.


    Rhaegar''s face darkened. He pped the table heavily. "Who sacrificed his life for the kingdom, and who is the murderer!" he bellowed.


    Wyston, taken aback by Rhaegar''s sudden outburst, softened his tone. "My nephew is dead..."


    "I know your nephew is dead!" Rhaegar interrupted, his voice filled with fury. "He and his private armymitted treason and died as they deserved."


    Wyston stammered, "But he died on the battlefield..."


    "Nonsense! If he hadn''t died in battle, do you think I would have dismissed his charges so easily?" Rhaegar snapped. "Remember, his death was his own doing. There is no honor in it, and there is no murderer."


    It was clear to Rhaegar that Wyston was here to cause trouble. The heir to White Harbor was dead, while the other conspirators, including Tnd, were alive. Wyston was here to challenge this imbnce.


    Rhaegar called the guards at the entrance of the tent. "Drag Ser Wyston out and drive him to Bloodstone Ind."


    "Prince, I am here on behalf of House Manderly of White Harbor," Wyston protested, his face red with anger.


    Rhaegar''s voice was icy. "If your brother wishes to question me, let hime himself. The Targaryens will give him an exnation. Now, get out!"


    The guards, members of the Second Sons, quickly acted. They restrained Wyston and carried him out of the tent as if he were livestock.


    The storm passed as quickly as it had arisen. Themanders were left in stunned silence.


    Rhaegar''s sharp eyes scanned the room. "That was a minor interruption. Now, let''s discuss the main issue."


    "Yes, Prince..." Themanders, shaken from their stupor, hurriedly took their seats.


    After months of war, Rhaegar had be increasingly decisive. As the heir and acting Commander of the Navy, he wielded considerable authority. Besides his father, Viserys, no one outranked him.


    ...


    Nightfall


    The negotiations concluded. Themanders agreed on a strategy of siege rather than direct assault. Patrol ships and dragons would encircle Grey Gallows Ind, cutting off supplies.


    The pirates, though well-provisioned, would eventually run out of fresh water. When that time came, they would be vulnerable to attack.


    Rhaegar stepped out of the tent into the starry night.


    "Rhaegar, I need to talk to you!" Aegon''s voice called from behind.

 Chapter 218: Triarchy’s Provocation

    Chapter 218: Triarchy��s Provocation


    Aegon''s voice was full of resentment. He wore leather armor, his hair was a mess, and he held a defiant expression.


    Rhaegar turned to face him, scanning him up and down. Despite Aegon''s disheveled appearance, he couldn''t help but notice that Alicent''s genes were strong; she''d borne handsome children. Aegon, though shorter and slimmer than Rhaegar, had a wild, uninhibited demeanor.


    Feeling Rhaegar''s gaze, Aegon grew uneasy. His legs trembled, but he stretched his neck, eyes stubborn, determined to escape from this ce.


    Finally, Rhaegar approached him. Aegon''s body shivered, tension mounting. He knew his request was unreasonable, and he braced himself for the expected reprimand.


    Surprisingly, Rhaegar didn''t get angry. Instead, he sighed and said gently, "You''ve lost weight and gotten a bit darker."


    Aegon was taken aback. "What do you mean?" he asked, uncertain.


    Rhaegar ced a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "After a month on the front lines, you''re more of a man than ever."


    "Hmph, nonsense," Aegon retorted, shrugging off his hand. "Don''t think you can sweet-talk me. I''m going back to King''s Landing, do you hear?"


    "Go back to King''s Landing? For what?" Rhaegar asked, his tone sharp. "To sleep, to cuddle a whore, or to y the fool for Father?"Aegon''s face flushed with anger. "I don''t need you to tell me what to do! I''m going back, and no one cares what I do anyway."


    "No! Aegon, you''re my brother, not a waste," Rhaegar said, his gaze intense. "Your name is Targaryen. You are my brother, and no one can call you a waste."


    Aegon was taken aback by Rhaegar''s words. He hesitated. "That''s so sappy. Do you think I''ll believe it?"


    Ever since he was a child, Aegon had lived in Rhaegar''s shadow. Whenever he did something wrong, he would get a good beating. How could he believe Rhaegar now?


    "Believe it or not, that''s up to you," Rhaegar said, hands behind his back. "There''s unrest in the Bands, the Triarchy has invaded Grey Gallows Ind, and Dorne''s movements are unknown. Do you want to hide back in the arms of a whore at this time?"


    Aegon lowered his head, unable to meet Rhaegar''s eyes. "That''s your responsibility. You''re the Heir. What does it matter to me?"


    Rhaegar''s face turned cold. He pped Aegon across the face, sending him stumbling. "You... you..."


    Aegon''s cheek reddened and swelled. He covered his face with one hand, pointing at Rhaegar with the other, but words failed him.


    "Aegon, are you talking to me about responsibility?" Rhaegar grabbed his cor. "Remember, you are a Targaryen. You enjoy the honor of our name. Defend it with your life!"


    Aegon, lifted like a rag doll, dared not speak. Rhaegar continued, "You are the only Targaryen man besides me and Father. You must shoulder the responsibility of defending our realm."


    "And if I say no?" Aegon challenged, his defiance resurfacing.


    "As you wish," Rhaegar said calmly, releasing him. "You can go back to King''s Landing if you want to be a waste."


    Rhaegar turned and walked away. Aegon fell to the ground, fists clenched. As Rhaegar continued, Aegon suddenly stood and shouted, "I won''t leave! I have the name of the Conqueror. I''m not afraid of anything!"


    Under the night sky, Rhaegar paused, a slight smile ying at the corners of his mouth. This was the effect he wanted. Alicent might covet the throne and have many children, but to Rhaegar, these younger siblings were not threats but assets.


    Sometimes, a person''s beliefs and actions are shaped by those who influence them. If Rhaegar wanted Aegon to stand, he would make him stand. The Targaryen line was too thin to afford a wasted life.


    ...


    A month passed in the blink of an eye.


    ��Roar����


    The sound of dragons echoed across Bloodstone Ind. Cannibaly on the mountaintop, its eyes scanning the horizon and Sea Smoke rising in the distance.


    Two dragons slowly descended, and Aegon and Laenor dismounted.


    Rhaegar stood nearby, watching them. "What''s the situation?" he asked.


    Laenor shook his head, his expression grim.


    Aegon spoke first, "The pirates took advantage of a weak night patrol, smuggled supplies, and sank one of our patrol ships."


    Rhaegar nodded thoughtfully. The Triarchy had been lying low for some time. At night, smugglers in small boats had been sending supplies to Grey Gallows Ind. Although the patrol ships intercepted and eliminated a few, the small boats�� persistence had fostered a sense ofcency among the soldiers. Last night, several ships swiftly sank the patrol ships and moved supplies to the ind. It was a defeat.


    Just then, a soldier hurried over, reporting, ��Prince, a small ship has arrived at Grey Gallows Ind.��


    ��How many men?�� Rhaegar inquired.


    ��Just one,�� the soldier confirmed, ��carrying a white g. They��ve docked.��


    ��Bring him to me,�� Rhaegar instructed.


    ��Yes, Prince,�� the soldier replied, retreating.


    Momentster, two soldiers escorted a young man with dyed blonde hair, dressed in fine foreign garments.


    Rhaegar nced at him and asked, ��What is your purpose here?��


    ��To dere war!�� The young foreigner��s arrogance was palpable, his Valyrian dialect heavily ented. His dyed hair marked him unmistakably as Tyroshi.


    Rhaegar, Aegon, and Laenor exchanged amused nces and burst intoughter.


    ��A bunch of rats hiding in a cave dare to dere war?�� Aegon sneered, pping the young man across the face.


    Since being on the battlefield, Aegon had seen all sorts of things. The Tyroshi youth, undeterred, held his head high. ��In half a month, Dorne will send a fleet, and the Triarchy will dispatch their strongest warriors to reim the Stepstones Inds.��


    ��Out of his mind,�� Aegon muttered.


    The Tyroshi youth continued, ��Evacuate Bloodstone Ind, or you will be doomed!��


    ��Come on, then. I��m waiting to start a war with you,�� Rhaegar replied indifferently.


    ��You will die a silent death,�� the Tyroshi youth snarled, attempting to curse them.


    ��Enough���� A soldier stepped in, restraining him and pinning him to the ground.


    Unexpectedly, the Tyroshi youth let out a pained grunt, his eyes bulging, body convulsing, and face turning red. Within moments, his neck went limp, and he copsed, paralyzed.


    Laenor reached out and felt the young man''s nostrils. "He''s breathless," he said gravely.


    "Call the maester," Rhaegarmanded, steadying himself. He had never witnessed such a scene before.


    The army��s maester hurried over to examine the body. After half a minute, he concluded, "The deceased took poison in advance. Judging from the symptoms, it appears to be Strangler."


    The maester''s face was grave and horrified. There was nothing good about the Triarchy. The customs of its cities were deplorable, its order chaotic.


    Besides ve trade and prostitution, poison was their third specialty. Among them, Strangler and Tears of Lys were the most notorious. Strangler was a powerful poison that could quickly suffocate a person.


    Laenor��s face turned pale with fear. "Cousin, pay attention to what he said before he died. The Triarchy might be nning to poison you."


    The Targaryens had lost too many lives in the Battle of the Stepstones. Laenor��s grandfather, Aemon Targaryen, had been assassinated in his tent by Myrish scouts. Rhaegar��s grandfather, Baelor Targaryen, had died after suffering severe pains, suspected to be caused by poison, though there was no proof.


    Aegon, too, was stunned. He looked at Rhaegar with trembling lips, "What do we do? Should we go back to King��s Landing?"


    It was his first encounter with such a ruthless use of human life as a warning.


    "What are you afraid of? I''m not dead yet!" Rhaegar��s voice was icy. "Be careful with your food and drink, and have guards follow you at all times."


    Despite his brave words, only Rhaegar knew the worry he felt. He had no immunity against toxins. If he was poisoned, he would die like anyone else. The pressure weighed heavily on him.


    After a moment of contemtion, determination hardened his eyes. He turned to the maester, "Follow me back to the tent. I have a message for the ravens."


    "Yes, Prince," the maester replied, his worry evident.


    The poisons from Lys were unparalleled in their lethality. The Triarchy had no boundaries. If something happened to the prince, it would be a significant blow to the kingdom.


    By dusk, nine ravens flew out from Bloodstone Ind, heading towards the continent of Essos.


    Rhaegar climbed to the top of the mountain and approached the Cannibal. The dragon nced at him and snorted. Rhaegar sat beside it, patting its dark scales. Looking at the distant horizon, his eyes turned cold. "If they want a fight, then we��ll give them a painful one."


    ...


    King''s Landing


    Inside the Council Hall


    Viserys had called an emergency meeting. The chaos in the Rivends had worsened. The ckwoods and the Brackens were in open conflict, refusing mediation from both House Tully and the royal family.


    The Brackens, in particr, had mobilized the peasants to join the war, sparking a widespread rebellion. The conflict had engulfed half the Rivends, with thousands of peasants joining the uprising, looting and piging like a gue of locusts.


    Viserys, filled with anger, demanded, "The Rivends are in the grip of a farmers'' rebellion. How do we deal with this?"


    "What is the reaction of Riverrun?" Otto inquired, seizing the opportunity now that Lyonel was absent.


    Viserys fumed, "Riverrun has deployed troops along the Red Fork, trying to manage the conflict between the ckwoods and the Brackens."


    "If Old Lord Tully can stop the two houses from warring, we only need to handle the farmers'' uprising," Otto mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Why not send some troops from the Crownds to participate in the counterinsurgency?"


    "The Crownds'' forces are all tied up in the Stepstones. It''s difficult to spare soldiers," Viserys countered.


    "It won''t take much," Otto suggested. "Just a thousand soldiers, led by a bravemander, would be enough to create a deterrent."


    "Who would we send?" Viserys asked, now considering the proposal.


    Otto pondered for a moment before replying, "Harwin Strong."

 Chapter 219: The Dragon’s Return to Essos

    Chapter 219: The Dragon��s Return to Essos


    Nighttime


    The Red Keep, Attic


    Otto and Larys sat opposite each other, the dim light casting shadows on their faces.


    "Harwin will depart tomorrow for the Rivends to quell the rebellion," Otto said lightly, his eyes sharp as swords.


    Larys smiled coyly. "Harwin the Breakbones��my brother''s name carries weight."


    "Are you sure?" Otto ignored Larys'' insincerity, getting straight to the point.


    "No problem," Larys replied, his eyes shing. "My father and brother are quite capable; they won''t disappoint."


    "Once this is aplished, the Grand Maester and I will rmend you as the new Master of Coin," Otto said, rising to leave.


    He had never liked the second son of the Strong House. Larys reminded him of a rat that had crawled out of a dark sewer.Larys, holding his cane, rested his chin on his hand, watching Otto''s back with a smile.


    ...


    Elsewhere in the Red Keep


    Viserys had summoned Rhaenyra through the Kingsguard.


    "Rhaenyra, there''s been no news from the Stepstones. Return to Dragonstone and deploy the Royal Navy to patrol the Narrow Sea," he ordered, visibly exhausted by the sessive bad news.


    Rhaenyra was taken aback. "Father, the fleet has been patrolling the Narrow Sea, and the fleet at Driftmark has been contributing as well."


    "The Seven Hells! My memory fails me," Viserys muttered, smacking his head. "What of Lord Corlys? I hear he is still ill."


    "Yes, Aunt Rhaenys and Laena are watching over him day and night," Rhaenyra responded truthfully.


    "There is a fleet patrolling the Narrow Sea, but King''s Landing needs more reinforcement," Viserys muttered. "With Harwin transferred to the Rivends, Otto will manage the City Watch for the time being."


    "Otto!" Rhaenyra''s heart tightened. Harwin had always been a staunch loyalist, and Otto takingmand of the City Watch was a blow to her influence.


    "Don''t worry, Otto is Alicent''s father and an old friend," Viserys reassured her. "The Red Keep still has the Kingsguard, three hundred strong."


    The King''s Guard had been newly bolstered,bining the original Red Keep guards with Rhaegar''s newly appointed Dragonkeepers.


    Rhaenyra calcted the situation. "The front line is still at war. How many more men can the king''s army spare?"


    "It''s difficult. What we could spare has already been given to Harwin," Viserys replied, his headache worsening at the mention of the Rivends. "Go and visit Lord Corlys on Driftmark when you have time," he added, pausing before emphasizing, "And your two adopted daughters."


    He felt awkward mentioning them again; they were Daemon''s children. Rhaenyra smiled and agreed, hiding her concerns.


    ...


    Simultaneously


    The Nine Free Cities of Essos


    Nine letters from the Targaryen Dynasty arrived in the hands of the leaders of the nine Free Cities.


    Tyrosh


    Representatives of the Triarchy convened a meeting, first to discuss Dorne''s refusal to send troops by sea, then to discuss poisoning - a controversial but effective solution.


    An old man in brocade robes spoke first. "The Targaryen boys were terrorized today, and a false deadline was set to allow for a sneak attack. Three thousand Unsullied are waiting in the harbor."


    Lysandro Rogare, ying with a whip, added, "The situation is delicate."


    Several magisters in the room also held simr whips, their faces serious as they debated.


    A servant hurried in and handed a letter to the brocade-d old man. Soon, simr letters were delivered to Lysandro Rogare and another magister from Myr.


    As they read, their expressions changed from curiosity to shock to anger.


    "Arrogant! Does he want to start a war between two continents?" the old man shouted, crumpling the letter in anger.


    Lysandro''s face grew grave as he read:


    "The Triarchy has invaded the Stepstones, plundered the Seven Kingdoms'' people, and threatened to poisonthe heir to the Iron Throne.


    Rhaegar Targaryen, eldest son of Viserys I and heir to the Iron Throne, writes to you:


    Seven days from now, if the Triarchy does not withdraw from the Stepstones, we will march on Tyrosh.


    Someone is trying to awaken the wrath of the sleeping dragon. So Targaryens will return it with blood and fire!"


    The letter concluded with a flourish.


    "The Targaryen brat wants to invade Tyrosh. Where does he get the nerve?" the old man fumed.


    The Triarchy Council


    Tyrosh and Lys are ind nations across the sea from the maind.


    Lys is located near Vntis, on the Summer Sea.


    Tyrosh, an ind nation near the Disputed Lands, were particrly concerned.


    "The letter should be spread throughout the Free Cities. We must seek allies quickly," Lysandro urged.


    "Who will help us?" the brocade-robed old man replied. "Braavos is still at war with Pentos. Vntis wants us destroyed by the dragon. Qohor and Norvos are under siege by the Dothraki. Lorath is too far away and too poor to be of any help."


    The Triarchy had been emboldened by its dominance in Essos, plundering ships and invading the Stepstones. Now they faced istion.


    Frustrated, Lysandro replied, "Dorne refused to send troops. If we don''t unite the other city-states, we have no allies."


    The representative from Myr, a dark, heavyset man, spoke. "The dragon''s return to Essos affects more than just our three city-states. Braavos and others may reconsider."


    Memories of Old Valyria��s dragonlords still haunted the people of Essos. Perhaps some could be swayed to support them.


    "Don''t expect too much," Lysandro cautioned. "This might be the rash decision of a teenage prince. The King on the Iron Throne is weak. We should send a letter to dissuade him."


    The Stepstones, situated in the Disputed Lands, belonged neither to Westeros nor Essos. Fighting there was one thing; a dragonnding in a Free City was another matter entirely.


    "Good idea. I''ll draft a letter immediately," the Myrish representative agreed, hurrying out with his whip.


    Despite his outward fury, the brocade-robed old man was anxious. "Just in case, station the Unsullied in Tyrosh and set up scorpion crossbows in the harbor and on every tower."


    Lysandro, recognizing Tyrosh''s vulnerability as the likely first target, did not object.


    ...


    Driftmark


    In the darkness of the night, a massive figure broke through the clouds, revealing the crescent moon. Under its pale light, Cannibal, ck as charcoal, glided silently, his green eyes surveying the ind below.


    On a familiar clearing, the dark green dragon Vaghary sleeping, eyes closed. Nearby, next to the beach, a scarlet dragon huddled among the gorse. Rhaegar recognized it immediately as Caraxes.


    After the Dance of Dragons, Caraxes had been severely injured. His body was covered in scars, and one of his wings was torn. Unable to fly until his wings healed, the once mighty Blood Wyrm moved like a reptile.


    Sensing Rhaegar''s gaze, Caraxes twisted his slender body and dragged his damaged wing deeper into the gorse.


    "Land, Cannibal," Rhaegarmanded, steering the dragon towards High Tide Castle.


    Uponnding, he was greeted by Rhaenys and Laena, mother and daughter, who weed him warmly. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Rhaegar got straight to the point, discussing the Triarchy''s deration of war and his decision to attack Tyrosh.


    "I''ll fetch the baby," Laena said, her smile fading as she found an excuse to leave. Her special status as a daughter of House Vryon and Daemon''s wife made her wary of entangling herself in too many battles.


    Rhaegar frowned, surprised by Laena''s immediate retreat from involvement.


    "Don''t mind her. Say what you came for," Rhaenys said, her face stern.


    "The most important element in attacking Tyrosh is our dragons. I need all three of Vryon''s dragons to participate," Rhaegar stated bluntly.


    "No way!" Rhaenys replied sharply. "The Targaryen name is sensitive and cannot be associated with an invasion of Essos."


    They were a family of Dragonlords. Over three hundred years ago, Old Valyria had conquered much of Essos. An invasion by Targaryen dragons could provoke a severe bacsh from the entire Free Cities.


    Anticipating her resistance, Rhaegar patiently exined, "The Triarchy is desperate. We only need to strike one city-state decisively to defeat them."


    He had studied the situation in the Free Cities. Vntis had a grudge against the Triarchy, and the other cities were either in turmoil or struggling to defend themselves. The Triarchy could not count on allies.


    "Rhaegar, your strategic vision is excellent, I won''t deny that," Rhaenys said firmly. "But I won��t help you, and your father won��t approve of your decisions."


    She knew her cousin well. The Battle of the Stepstones had already drained Viserys''s courage and patience. Attacking the Triarchy and risking the wrath of the Free Cities was unwise.


    Rhaegar pressed on, "The Triarchy is the greatest enemy of House Vryon. Can��t I take the risk to resist them?"


    Rhaenys shook her head. "You represent not only yourself but the entire Seven Kingdoms. As the Master of Dragons, I oppose your risky behavior."


    She sighed deeply. "I still have to care for Corlys, and Laena needs to feed the child. You are free to go."


    "Aunt, this battle cannot be avoided!" Rhaegar''s eyes shed with determination as he turned and left.


    He would return to King''s Landing and seek his father''s permission, and to prepare his armor for the inevitable conflict.


    ...


    After Rhaegar left, Rhaenys found Laena, who was breastfeeding her child.


    "You should agree to help him. It will redeem Daemon," Rhaenys suggested, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed.


    Laena shook her head, a hint of shrewdness in her eyes. "The King still loves him. I don''t want to make any extra effort."

 Chapter 220: Prelude to the Massacre

    Chapter 220: Prelude to the Massacre


    The Next Day


    Early the next morning, Rhaegar returned to the Red Keep to meet his father, who had just woken up. Rhaegar had arrived in King''s Landing toote the previous night and had stayed at the Dragonpit.


    At this time, Viserys was enjoying breakfast in his loose pajamas, while Grand Maester Mellos stood by, reading a letter aloud.


    ��If the Seven Kingdoms want to attack Essos, they will surely meet fierce resistance...��


    Rhaegar arrived just in time to hear these words.


    He knocked twice on the door and called out, ��Father, I have urgent business to discuss.��


    ��Come in, Rhaegar,�� Viserys responded, his voice tense.


    Pushing the door open, Rhaegar saw his father holding a knife and fork, looking deeply troubled. The moment he saw Rhaegar, Viserys immediately questioned, ��Who told you to dere war on Essos? Do you want to start a world war between the continents?��


    Rhaegar sighed and exined, ��Not Essos, Father. I dered war on the Triarchy, intending to strike Tyrosh directly.����In the eyes of the world, it��s all the same,�� Viserys snapped. ��Invading Tyrosh will make all the Free Cities hostile to the Targaryens.��


    ��I exined our reasons in my letter. The Triarchy started this chaos,�� Rhaegar argued. ��They��re using poison to threaten us. Is that not in the letter?��


    He is not afraid of getting poisoned, but he would not tolerate such an underhanded threat.


    ��Poisoning?�� Viserys was taken aback and looked to Mellos for confirmation.


    Mellos skimmed through the letter and replied, ��It��s not mentioned. The letter focuses on the public opinion attack by the Triarchy.��


    Viserys put down his utensils and, with a mix of concern and anger, asked, ��Rhaegar, has the Triarchy tried to poison you?��


    Rhaegar, feeling his father��s worry, replied, ��Not yet. But I intend to eliminate the threat before it can harm us.��


    Viserys sighed with relief, then returned to the contents of the letter with renewed frustration. ��The Battle of the Stepstones was costly. I cannot support expanding this conflict.��


    ��Father, I��ve already sent the letters to the nine Free Cities,�� Rhaegar stated firmly. ��If the Triarchy doesn��t withdraw from the Stepstones by the deadline, I will counterattack.��


    The Stepstones had long been a thorn in the Targaryen Dynasty��s side. Rhaegar��s determination was not just for himself, but for the future stability of the realm.


    Seeing the resolve in his son��s eyes, Viserys felt a wave of helplessness. ��This is my final warning: do not invade Essos, or I will strip you of your militarymand.��


    ��Father, we have dragons and a capable army. There��s no need to worry,�� Rhaegar countered, his voice rising with conviction. ��We can end this conflict.��


    ��I said no!�� Viserys mmed his hand on the dining table, causing his silverware to tter to the ground.


    Rhaegar tilted his head back and closed his eyes, struggling to contain his frustration. After a moment, he shook his head and forced a smile. ��Fine, I��ll handle it myself.��


    He turned and walked out.


    ��Rhaegar, did you hear what I said?�� Viserys shouted after him.


    ��Loud and clear,�� Rhaegar replied, his voiceced with disappointment, as he quickened his pace.


    Viserys was about to yell again, but Rhaegar was already gone.


    ...


    Rhaegar walked out of the room, sighing deeply, his hand running through his hair in frustration as he descended the stairs.


    "Rhaegar, when did you get back?" came Jeyne''s surprised voice from behind him.


    He nced back briefly. "Just now."


    "Have the Stepstones stabilized?" Jeyne asked, her smile bright.


    Rhaegar, in no mood for conversation, replied curtly, "I still have something to do. I''ll leave now."


    Before Jeyne could say more, Rhaegar turned and walked away, not looking back.


    Watching his retreating figure, Jeyne tilted her head, murmuring to herself, "Why does he seem so troubled?"


    Her keen senses picked up on Rhaegar''s unease.


    ...


    The Back Garden


    Unconsciously, Rhaegar found himself among the thick beams of the fishwood. He muttered to himself, "I need to rally an armed force quickly." His mind raced, pondering potential supporters.


    "Prince, good to see you again," a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.


    Rhaegar turned to see Larys sitting on a nearby pavilion fence, a fake smile ying at the corner of his mouth. "Larys, what do you want?" Rhaegar asked directly.


    Larys, leaning on his scepter, approached with a limp. "As you know, those who have difficulty walking often hear the most interesting things," he said cryptically.


    Rhaegar regarded him warily, aware of Larys''s knack for gathering intelligence and weaving schemes. "Perhaps I can help with your problem," Larys offered, bowing humbly.


    "Go on," Rhaegar prompted, his eyes narrowing with interest.


    "The King abhors war and will never support your ns," Larys began. "To win a battle, you need both dragons and soldiers."


    "I have only one dragon and very few soldiers," Rhaegar admitted. The forces stationed at the Stepstones were minimal, insufficient for a full-scale assault on the Triarchy.


    Larys smiled. "King''s Landing is a cauldron, full of hidden resources," he hinted, waiting for Rhaegar to inquire further. But Rhaegar simply gestured for him to continue, wary of appearing too eager.


    Larys, slightly frustrated, continued, "Princess Rhaenyramands a formidable force, rivaling your own."


    "The royal fleet?" Rhaegar asked, frowning. The fleet funded by Dragonstone��s taxesprised a dozen warships and over a thousand men.


    "More than that," Larys said, his smile widening. "There are two thousand Gold Cloaks in King''s Landing,manded by my brother, Harwin."


    "So?" Rhaegar pressed.


    "My brother has sworn unwavering loyalty to Princess Rhaenyra," Larys said, tapping his scepter rhythmically.


    Rhaegar studied Larys in silence, then suddenly drew his sword, pressing the de against Larys''s neck. "I hear provocation in your words," he said icily.


    King''s Landing''s own guardians, the Golden Cloaks, wouldn''t be easily trespassed upon.


    Also, Harwin, transferred to the Rivends, he understood the actual situation from Maynard''s report.


    Larys''s words were loaded. Was he trying to sow discord between him and Rhaenyra, or did he have a darker motive - to use a borrowed sword to eliminate Harwin?


    Larys��s smile faltered, his heartbeat quickening. "Prince, it��s not a bad idea," he stammered.


    "It��s a terrible idea," Rhaegar retorted, not trusting Larys, who had ties to Alicent. He raised the sword, letting the cold t of the de tap Larys''s cheek. "For the sake of Lord Lyonel, I��ll let this slide. But next time, think before you speak."


    Sheathing his sword, Rhaegar turned to leave. "Where are you going, Prince?" Larys called after him, touching his cheek.


    "Dragonstone," Rhaegar replied, not looking back.


    ...


    The sun gradually rose, casting its golden light over Dragonstone Ind. A dark dragon shadow appeared in the sky, soaring above the castle.


    "Land," Rhaegarmanded. The Cannibal obeyed, descending to the cliff edge by the castle.


    Rhaegar dismounted and entered the castle, seeking out Rhaenyra. As he stepped inside the gates, he heard her voice.


    "Rhaegar, what are you doing here?" Rhaenyra called from the handrail of the second-floor stairs, her eyes shining with surprise and delight. She had only returned to Dragonstone the previous day and was overjoyed to see her brother so soon.


    ...


    As dusk fell, the two siblings sat together on the open-air terrace, gazing at the beautiful coastline. Rhaenyra nestled her head against Rhaegar''s shoulder.


    "Rhaegar, you should be more cautious," she murmured softly. "A counterattack is too dangerous."


    "I have to go," Rhaegar replied, his eyes fixed on the setting sun, feeling its fading warmth.


    Rhaenyra lifted her head, her voice filled with concern. "You''re alone, and the royal fleet is under Father''smand. I can''t mobilize it."


    "It''s alright," Rhaegar said, shaking his head.


    Determined, Rhaenyra clutched his sleeve. "I''ll ride Syrax to help you."


    Rhaegar gently squeezed her hand. "You have to stay here. If anything happens to me, you''re the heir."


    "Rhaegar! Don''t talk like that," Rhaenyra said angrily. "Stop your ns and apologize to Father."


    "It was just an analogy," Rhaegar replied, his forehead damp with sweat. "One of us has to stay with Father. You can''t take the risk."


    "I won''t agree to you going into danger either!" Rhaenyra''s eyes widened with defiance.


    Rhaegar leaned closer, his voice softening. "Sister, you should support me."


    "I just want to kick your ass," Rhaenyra retorted, her cheeks flushing slightly.


    Rhaegar stood up, releasing her hand and taking a deep breath. "Don''t worry, I have aplete n, though it''s a bit risky."


    As he descended the stairs, he added, "I''ve arranged for a maid to assist you. She''ll arrive shortly."


    Ignoring Rhaenyra''s protests, Rhaegar made his way to the east coast of Dragonstone Ind. He was determined to find a strong ally for the battles ahead.


    ...


    The sky zed with fiery clouds as dusk settled over thend. Despite thete hour, the oppressive summer heat lingered, causing beads of sweat to form on those outside.


    A dark dragon shadow shed across the sky, stirring a cool breeze in its wake as Rhaegar returned to King''s Landing. He was not there to reconsider his ns, but to mobilize his troops.


    Upon reaching the Dragonpit, Rhaegar summoned Maynard. "Take all the Dragonkeepers with you. Ships are waiting in the harbor," he ordered. With no other troops avable, the Dragonkeepers were hisst resort.


    Maynard epted the mission, quickly rallying the Dragonkeepers. Just then, the gate of the Dragonpit creaked open.


    "Rhaegar, you are really here," a familiar female voice called out.


    Rhaegar turned to see Jeyne standing at the entrance, her eyes sparkling with concern.

 Chapter 221: Lys’ Crisis

    Chapter 221: Lys��Crisis


    "What brings you here?" Rhaegar asked, suspicion in his voice.


    Jeyne took a deep breath before she spoke. "Rhaenyra couldn''t get the troops together, could she?"


    Rhaegar chuckled. "You always know, don''t you?"


    "There are no secrets in King''s Landing," Jeyne replied frankly, unafraid to displease him.


    Rhaegar nodded, acknowledging the truth in her words.


    "You want to counterattack the Triarchy, but your forces are inadequate," Jeyne analyzed, her concern evident. "The Dragonkeepers have 1,200 men, and the Second Sons only a few hundred. Even without the King''s support, your influence should allow you to muster about 1,000 men."


    "That''s about three thousand men at best," Rhaegar mused.


    "Still far from enough to ensure the defense of Bloodstone Ind," Jeyne pointed out.


    Rhaegar listened intently, recognizing the uracy of her assessment. After a moment, he replied, "The Triarchy is a coalition of three city-states with scattered forces. They can be defeated."Jeyne took his hands in hers, her soft cheeks reflecting her concern. "Rhaegar, I am not here to dissuade you."


    Rhaegar braced himself. "Then what?"


    Jeyne''s eyes shed with determination. "I have brought two hundred Knights of the Vale to King''s Landing. Take them with you; they will strengthen your position."


    The evening sun cast a warm glow on the steps of the Dragonpit as Rhaegar��s gaze followed hers. At the foot of the steps stood two hundred fully armed Knights of the Vale.


    "Prince!..." The knights shouted in unison, beating their spears against the ground in a resounding drumbeat.


    Rhaegar was taken aback. "If you give me all the knights, who will protect you?"


    "You need them more than I do," Jeyne said firmly.


    Rhaegar sighed, his concern palpable. "Jeyne, I may not bring them all back alive."


    Jeyne approached him, cupping his face in her hands, her voice soft but firm. "Just return with news of triumph."


    "You think I can win?" Rhaegar asked, doubting his own chances without his father''s support.


    "You are a true Targaryen. You will win," Jeyne replied with unwavering conviction, her eyes filled with affection.


    Rhaegar''s breath hitched, his heart pounding. He recalled an old saying: understanding is the most important thing in love.


    Jeyne moved even closer, their faces almost touching. She whispered, "You said we must follow our hearts. You can''t escape me."


    Rhaegar frowned slightly.


    "Let go of your doubts," Jeyne continued, more spontaneous than he expected. "You can marry both of us."


    She leaned in and kissed him deeply, their lips and teeth mingling in a tight embrace.


    Momentster, Jeyne nced at the Knights of the Vale and softly said to him, "Let��s go back to the Red Keep."


    Rhaegar, lost in thought, said in a hushed voice, "Alright then."


    ...


    The next day at dawn, delicate dewdrops clung to the tender buds outside.


    Inside the bedroom, Rhaegar''s body was slick with sweat, his chest rising and falling violently. He slumped back in the rocking chair, his eyes unfocused.


    "Rhaegar, it''s dawn," came Jeyne''s slightly raspy but sticky voice.


    She straddled the rocking chair, their bodies close together, her arms wrapped around his neck. Their sweat-soaked hair was tangled.


    Rhaegar tilted his head back, sweat pouring into his eyes, his breath hot andbored. He was exhausted from their night together.


    After a moment, he gently stroked Jeyne''s back and murmured, "You''re insatiable."


    Jeyne buried her head against his chest, inhaling deeply. "I can''t help it. I needed this too."


    Outside, she was known as the Maiden of the Vale, but in the privacy of their room, she had indulged fully in her desire for him.


    After a few moments of tenderness, Rhaegar''s eyelids fluttered open.


    Jeyne quickly lifted herself off him and said worriedly, "Rhaegar, you''re still young. Don''t exhaust yourself."


    Taking a deep breath, Rhaegar pulled away from their intimate embrace.


    Jeyne was more than satisfied, but he knew he was an addict and had to restrain himself.


    As he wiped the sweat from his body, Rhaegar said, "I''ll be leaving soon. Stay safe and don''t wander off alone in the Red Keep."


    "I''ll wait for your good news," Jeyne replied, sinking back into the rocking chair, her eyelids heavy.


    With ast look, Rhaegar left the room, the door closing behind him with a soft thud.


    Despite her pain, Jeyne made her way to the bed,y down and called softly, "Skr,e here for a moment."


    The door creaked open, and a brown-haired girl entered.


    Jeyne covered herself with a thin quilt, ced a goose feather pillow under her waist, and bent her legs to raise her hips. Once she was settled, she instructed, "Fetch me a cup of tea from Maester Mellos."


    "Yes, mydy," Skr replied, quickly returning with a tray holding a steaming cup of tea that smelled faintly medicinal.


    Jeyne took the tea, blew on it, and drank it in one big gulp. As she finished, she noticed Skr''s strange gaze.


    Jeyne smiled at her maid, who had been in her service for a month. "It''s pregnancy tea. I don''t want any surprises."


    She wants her garden to bloom beautifully, but the soil isn''t ready for seeds just yet.


    Skr nodded and left with the tray.


    Exhausted, Jeyney back on the bed and soon fell into a deep sleep.


    ...


    Three dayster, on Bloodstone Ind, a warship anchored at the coastline as soldiers boarded in an orderly manner. Rhaegar, d in armor, gazed out towards Essos.


    "Rhaegar, you''re a mad fool for disobeying father''s orders!" Aegon ran up from behind, his voice sharp with anger.


    Rhaegar turned to him and replied, "I''m leaving you 3,000 men to garrison Bloodstone Ind. That should be enough."


    "Are you even listening to me?" Aegon shook his head, exasperated. "If father finds out you''re attacking Tyrosh with just two thousand men, he''ll kill me."


    Viserys'' orders had arrived two days earlier, but Rhaegar had mobilized only twelve hundred Dragonkeepers and six hundred Second Sons, plus two hundred Knights of the Vale, totaling exactly two thousand men.


    Aegon received another order: Watch Rhaegar and stop him from leaving, or I''ll break your legs!


    Aegon was still frantic when Laenor stomped up to the armorer. "Cousin, the ships are ready," Laenor said, hesitating. "I can''t disobey the King''s orders, so I can only help you with cover and distraction against the Triarchy."


    Rhaegar had sent him 1,000 soldiers and 10 ships to approach the Triarchy. However, Laenor could not go into battle, only cause a disturbance at most.


    Rhaegar patted his shoulder andughed, "That''s enough."


    "Rhaegar, you''re really going to get me killed." Aegon ran his hands through his hair, jumping up and down anxiously.


    Rhaegar ced a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I will bear all the consequences myself. I won''t drag you down."


    Aegon still refused. Unable to persuade him, Rhaegar dragged him to a corner and said in a deep voice, "Aegon, you are my brother, father''s oldest son besides me."


    Aegon blinked, unsure.


    Rhaegar leaned in close and whispered, "Guard Bloodstone Ind well. If anything happens to me, you will have to shoulder the burden of protecting our family."


    "What?" Aegon''s eyes widened, thinking he had heard wrong.


    Rhaegar''s face was solemn. "If I win, you are my most capable ally. If I lose..."


    He paused, not finishing the sentence.


    Aegon was startled and filled in the rest in his mind. If Rhaegar is defeated or even killed, then he would have to take over.


    Seeing Aegon''s realization, Rhaegarpelled him, "So, can we hold Bloodstone Ind?"


    Aegon''s attitude shifted dramatically, and he quickly nodded. "Yes! Unless the enemy steps over Sunfyre''s and my corpse."


    "Very well, my dear brother." Rhaegar smiled, leaving the agitated Aegon to his thoughts.


    Everything was ready. The soldiers boarded their ships, preparing to set sail.


    Rhaegar looked around, his posture tall andmanding.


    Swish! In the next moment, he unsheathed his sword Dragon w and shouted, "All of you, the target is the Kingdom of the Three Daughters! Make Essos remember their fear of dragons!"


    "Roarrrr..." A series of four dragon roars resounded through the sky as a massive shadow crossed the sea, heading into the distance.


    Suddenly, the wind and clouds surged wildly, creating waves and swells. The soldiers, inspired by the sight, felt their courage swell and shouted, "Attack the Triarchy! Conquer Essos!"


    With the heart of the army at hismand, Rhaegar waved his sword and shouted, "Set sail, set sail!"


    "Ooooohhhh!" The horn of sailing was blown, and the fleet set off.


    ...


    Three dayster, in Tyrosh.


    Scorpion crossbows were mounted on towers throughout the city-state. The harbor was cleared of all ships, and ve troops blocked the main road as the first line of defense. Dense ranks of ck-armored soldiers, holding spears and shields, stood in neat formations. These soldiers, expressionless and cold, were the elite Unsullied.


    Beside them stood a brocade-robed old man, clutching a whip engraved with an harpy. "Damned Myrish cowards, fleeing from battle," he cursed, counting the Unsullied. A fat, dark-skinned governor from Myr had fled, taking his five hundred Unsullied with him.


    Lysandro, who followed behind the old man,mented indifferently, "It''s understandable. He didn''t want to sacrifice the Unsullied he''d bought with his family''s wealth."


    "Enough about him. I''m going back to the air raid shelter," the old man said uneasily, leaving his ves and Unsullied to guard the harbor.


    Lysandro watched him retreat, then raised his whip. The three thousand Unsullied had been purchased jointly.


    The brocade-robed old man had bought a thousand for himself, while Lysandro and the four governors of Myr had each bought five hundred, making a total of two thousand.


    With a crack of his whip, Lysandromanded, "Unsullied, follow me!"


    Five hundred Unsullied stepped forward. Lysandro led them to a remote shore where several small ships were moored. He had no intention of staying in Tyrosh to fight dragons. He nned to escape as well.


    ...


    The once prosperous and bustling Tyrosh was now eerily silent. The old man in the brocade robe, along with high-ranking officials and wealthy merchants, hid in an air-raid shelter, praying for the Unsullied to fend off the dragon.


    They had received reports of warships and dragons heading straight from Bloodstone Ind to Tyrosh. Patrol ships had spotted the fleet''s trajectory.


    "Can you hear anything outside?" one of the bigwigs asked, growing restless.


    Yet, the sea outside the harbor remained empty. No fleet appeared.


    ...


    Meanwhile, in Lys, one of the three cities of the Triarchy, the harbor was filled with cargo ships. The city was brightly lit, with green houses and brothels echoing with sounds of pleasure. The sea remained calm.


    In the darkness of the night, a warship approached from afar. Standing on its deck, Rhaegar, dressed in ck robes, his eyes filled with murderous intent, surveyed the city.

 Chapter 222: Lys’ Dragon Dance

    Chapter 222: Lys�� Dragon Dance


    The harbor.


    Ragged ves were toiling away, their chains clinking with every step.


    Suddenly, one of the ves froze, pointing toward the vast ocean. "My lord, it seems a ship has docked over there."


    St��


    A whip cracked down on the ve��s back, and a guard soldier shouted angrily, "Get back to work!"


    The guard turned to look at the dusky sea. The fleet was already less than a mile from the harbor.


    "Roar..."


    A muffled dragon roar echoed from the harbor. The soldiers and ves had no time to react before a gust of wind knocked them to the ground.


    Boom...Ghostly green dragonfire rained from the sky, bombarding the cargo ships in the harbor. The fires crackled as they consumed the wooden ships, casting an eerie green light over the area. Screams filled the air as many perished in the mes.


    "The sky! Look at the sky!" someone shouted, drawing everyone''s gaze upward.


    Against the night''s darkness, a massive, charcoal-ck figure hovered in the sky. They couldn''t make out its full shape, but a pair of cold, merciless green eyes shone down.


    Boom...


    The green dragonfire erupted again, carving a scorched path toward the inner buildings of the city.


    "Roar..."


    Another sharp dragon roar echoed through the night, reverberating across half of Lys. The pale gray dragon, Grey Ghost, also shed by, unleashing pale white dragonfire. They fell like a meteor shower, igniting the harbor.


    As the fleet of ships approached, passing through the burning wreckage, they arrived at the harbor.


    "Men, follow me to conquer Lys!" Rhaegar shouted, leaping from the ship andnding on the wooden dock.


    "Charge!"


    The Dragonkeepers, Second Sons, and Knights of the Vale followed, jumping from their ships. Rhaegar led the charge, his sword dancing as he cut down the enemies in his path.


    Swish...


    Dragon w shed with cold light, severing the head of a Lysene soldier.


    "Free the ves and children! Kill everyone else!" Rhaegarmanded, his voice unwavering.


    His team followed closely as he deftly dodged the trembling ves on the ground, charging towards the inner city. Above, two dragons flew through the night sky, their mes erupting wildly, incinerating buildings and sowing chaos.


    The political establishment of Lys was caughtpletely off guard. By the time the local garrisonunched their counterattack, the city was already engulfed in mes and filled with cries of despair.


    Rhaegar led the assault with a stern expression. An open attack on Tyrosh? Wrong. Lys was his true target. His n was to destroy a city-state and fracture the alliance of the Triarchy. The false information had concentrated the Triarchy''s forces in Tyrosh, leaving the other city-states vulnerable. Lys, being the closest to the Stone Inds and the most populous, was the perfect target.


    "The enemy is here! Follow them!"


    As he advanced towards the inner city, Rhaegar encountered a group of Lysene defenders. He raised his Dragon w and roared, "Follow me and charge! Destroy them with Blood and Fire!"


    An unnatural flush spread across his pale skin, and his eyes filled with bloodlust. Wisps of me erupted from his skin, transforming Rhaegar into a fiery figure. His ck robes billowed in the wind, the hood and cloak igniting like a beacon in the night.


    Seeing their prince in mes, the soldiers were invigorated and shouted wildly, "Kill! Destroy Lys!"


    Rhaegar, now in mes, rushed into the crowd, wielding his zing Dragon w. Sword and me made him a force of unstoppable destruction.


    ...


    "Roar --"


    Cannibal pierced the night sky and descended into a majestic garden estate.


    This was the most famous wondend in Lys.


    --The Perfumed Garden.


    It boasted the most opulent buildings, fine wines from all over the world, and countless prostitutes and male ves.


    The patrons here were the elite, the powerful and influential.


    Cannibal''s green pupils red down upon them.


    Amidst the thousands of pavilions and luxurious buildings, debauchery reigned unchecked.


    "Roar--"


    With another thunderous roar, spectral green Dragonfire rained down.


    "Ah...... help......"


    "Run......"


    The Dragonfire spread rapidly, transforming the Perfumed Garden into hell.


    On the other side of the city, Gray Ghost joyfully pped his wings and soared over the downtown of Lys.


    Boom...


    Fireballs erupted from Gray Ghost''s maw, toppling buildings and burying countless lives in the rubble.


    The dragon knew it had been saved by the human and met him again on the eastern shore of Dragonstone Ind, the human who had spoken strange words that the dragon couldn''t understand.


    But Gray Ghost had sensed his intent-he wanted it to follow and help the other dragon. Because he liked the human, Gray Ghost had followed him here.


    "Roar......"


    Gray Ghost screeched, unleashing its Dragonfire with reckless abandon, reveling in the cruelty of its nature.


    ...


    The Rogare House Mansion


    Drazenko Rogare was in a state of panic, urgently gathering his family members. "Quickly, hide! Get to the air raid shelter!" hemanded, his voice trembling.


    He couldn''tprehend it. The deration of war had clearly stated Tyroshi as the target, so why was a dragon attacking Lys?


    Rumble...


    A ball of dragonfire descended, instantly copsing the walls of the mansion.


    Many fleeing family members were caught in the mes or crushed by falling rocks, dying instantly.


    Drazenko stood frozen, his knees buckling as he fell helplessly to the ground. "Lord of Light, Lys is burning in dragonfire..," he whispered in despair.


    ...


    The bombardment continued until dawn. Rhaegar, drenched in blood, charged into the inner city of Lys.


    Looking around, he saw a wide river ahead with a wooden bridge crossing it. Stone buildings were scattered everywhere, making the environment disorienting.


    "Robb!" Rhaegar shouted.


    "Here, Prince!" Robb emerged from the crowd, breathing heavily. They had been fighting fiercely all night, repelling several waves of Lys defenders.


    Rhaegar pointed his sword in one direction and ordered, "There is a Rogare Bank in Lys. You and I will each lead a thousand men and split up to search for it."


    Under the relentless bombardment by Cannibal and Gray Ghost, the defense force of Lys was crumbling.


    The raids and massacres had already begun, and the city was on the verge of a full-scale sack.


    Lys, the most populous of the Free Cities, had umted vast wealth through plundering ships, running brothels, and brewing wine. The city was notoriously rich.


    The locals did little work, relying heavily on vebor. The ratio ofmoners to ves was a staggering one to three, showcasing the city''s immense wealth.


    Robb''s eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Yes, Prince!" he replied enthusiastically.


    With that, he rallied his Second Sons and the Knights of the Vale, moving toward the end of the wooden bridge.


    Rhaegar led the Dragonkeepers toward the high-rise buildings where the Dragonfire still burned brightly.


    ...


    After midnight


    The Dragonkeepers stormed into the wealthy district, their assault a whirlwind of fire, death, and plunder.


    Rhaegar strode down the street, his face an icy mask, gripping his sword tightly. He did not stop the Dragonkeepers from their rampage. In his eyes, the wealthy who had enved others and disregarded life had forfeited their right to live. Sparing only the ves and children, he allowed his men to loot freely.


    "Take what you can! Seventy percent for the cause, thirty percent for yourselves!" Dragonkeeper Leader Trangal shouted, thumping his breastte with a thick arm.


    Suddenly, a dark arrow whistled through the air, aiming straight for Rhaegar''s neck.


    "Prince, look out!" Trangle cried, but it was toote.


    The arrow flew with deadly precision, but just as it was about to strike, Rhaegar turned his head. Patterns began to emerge on his exposed skin��cheeks, neck, and hands. Green scales, like those of a dragon, materialized from thin air.


    ng...


    The arrow struck the scales and shattered, falling harmlessly to the ground.


    "Kill him!" Rhaegar''s voice was cold, his eyes fixed on a nearby attic where the attackers hid.


    "Porus, go! Tear them apart!" Trangal bellowed.


    With a thunderous tread, Porus, a four-meter-high half-giant d in iron armor, charged forward. He wielded a round shield in one hand and a massive war hammer in the other.


    Crash...


    The hammer, as big as a water tank, smashed through the gate of the mansion. Poru raced inside, plowing his way to the attic.


    Momentster, screams echoed through the night as the attic copsed under Porus'' assault.


    ...


    Inside the Lys War Shelter


    The wealthy, who had managed to take refuge in time, cowered within the confines of the shelter.


    "Where''s the garrison? Go kill all the invaders!" someone yelled angrily.


    "Quiet! The invaders aren''t familiar with the terrain. The garrison is already in ambush," another whispered.


    "Ooooh oooh oooh..." Women and children huddled together, crying bitterly.


    ...


    It was three in the morning. The night was pitch ck, the moon obscured by dark clouds. Two dragon shadows, onerge and one small, soared through the sky like harbingers of death. Wherever their mes passed, only charred remains remained.


    On a street lined with greenhouses and toweringmercial buildings, Rhaegar and Robb met again. Both sides, each a hundred men short, carried looted gold, silver, and jewelry and herded freed ves toward the harbor.


    Rhaegar had freed the ves, breaking their bonds and encouraging them to fight for their freedom. Fueled by a thirst for vengeance, the former ves were even more ruthless than their liberators, taking brutal revenge on their former masters.


    "Kill the ve masters!" the ves shouted, seizing any weapons they could find.


    Rhaegar led his forces through the chaotic streets in search of the Rogare Bank. He had until sunrise to evacuate the army, so they had to move quickly. The column of thousands spread out, searching in groups of two or three hundred.


    Rhaegar led his men into an alley redolent with the scent of pollen.


    "Surround and shoot!"


    A shout rang out from above. Hundreds of Lys'' guards appeared at the windows, raining arrows down upon the Dragonkeepers.


    "Ah!......"


    "Dodge!......"


    The attack was too swift. Many Dragonkeepers fell before they could react. Rhaegar''s face hardened, and he deftly knocked away arrows with Dragon w.


    Dang dang dang...


    The exits of the alley were blocked by guards, their swords shing against round shields, creating an intimidating noise.


    Realizing they were ambushed, Rhaegar assessed their situation quickly. "Break out with me!" he shouted, charging toward the front of the alley.


    *Pfft...*


    Rhaegar''s long sword sliced through the arm of an attacker. He then kicked through the wall of shields, plunging into the mass of enemies. Machetes shed at him from all sides, but the green glow of his dragon-scale runes deflected most of the blows.


    The inscriptions of bronze runes, painstakingly etched into his skin, protected his upper body, blocking most of the damage.


    "Roar! Porus ising!"


    The half-giant roared as he charged the entrance to the alley, his warhammer swinging like a scythe through the wheat. Flesh and bone flew, sttering the walls with blood. In moments, he had cleared a bloody path.


    Just then, a window above them creaked open. A beautiful, provocatively dressed prostitute leaned out and shouted, "Prince, follow the alleyway to the north! The Rogare House is stationed there, and so is the bank!"


    She mmed the window shut before Rhaegar could answer. Doubts flickered in his mind - he had never been in a brothel and did not recognize her. But then he remembered: Lys'' First Magisterst name was Rogare. ves and prostitutes had every reason to hate that name.


    After decapitating another enemy, Rhaegar turned to his men, his voice cold andmanding. "Come with me. Let''s destroy the Rogare!"

 Chapter 223: Breaker of Shackles

    Chapter 223: Breaker of Shackles


    "Ohh, charge!"


    The half-giant Porus roared into the sky, swinging his warhammer to clear a path.


    Rhaegar''s cold eyes scanned the area, his ck robes zing as he led his army out of the encirclement with unstoppable force.


    The Lys Guard numbered in the thousands. Streets and alleys were barricaded, archers fired from above, and soldiers with swords and shields blocked their path.


    Rhaegar hacked and shed his way northward. The melee seemed endless, blood soaking his ck robe, the mes around him consuming the sound of battle.


    Suddenly he looked up and saw a towering white stone building with "Bank of Rogare" emzoned across the front.


    Rhaegar gasped and shouted, "Charge in, wealth is just ahead!"


    "Charge!"


    The Dragonkeepers'' eyes lit up, and they smashed down the gate and rushed in.Before the battle, Rhaegar had already decided on the division of the spoils: 70% for himself, 30% for his men. In Westeros, where everything was usually confiscated, this was a generous reward.


    Rhaegar followed his men into the building, his dragon w cutting down anyone in his path. In the back of his mind, he contacted Cannibal.


    At this point, victory was within his grasp. The Lys garrison had begun a counterattack, but he nned to unleash Cannibal''s Dragonfire to finish them off.


    Inside the building, the dragonkeepers ughtered the staff and found a treasure trove in the basement. The ck iron gates resisted their efforts.


    "Get out of the way, Porus will try."


    Seeing that the Dragonkeepers couldn''t open the door, the half giant pushed them aside and bent down to enter the secret passage.


    He swung his warhammer with brute force, the ck iron gate groaning under the assault, the walls shaking and spraying sand and debris.


    Bang...... bam......


    After dozens of hammer blows, the gate could no longer withstand the force. It creaked, and finally copsed, taking part of the stone wall with it.


    The half-giant''s hammer had shattered the wall, filling the basement with smoke and dust. The Dragonkeepers rushed into the vault, their eyes widening at the sight of gold.


    "Seven hells! So much gold.."


    Trangal, the first to enter, stared in shock at the piles of gold coins and bricks, his jaw almost dropping.


    "Move it!"


    Someone shouted, and the Dragonkeepers sprang into action, shoveling gold coins and bricks into their arms. When their arms were full, they stuffed gold into their waistbands and crotches.


    The locks on the chests were broken, revealing more gold, silver, and jewels. The first to grab a share carried dozens of pounds of gold as they ran out, with more Dragonkeepers following close behind.


    Before long, only dusty footprints remained in the vault. Even the chests were taken by the Dragonkeepers.


    Outside the Bank of Rogare


    Lys guards converged from all directions, surrounding the building. Thousands of archers hid in the shadows, bows drawn, ready to unleash a hail of arrows. The doors of the building were shut tight, but inside the triumphant shouts of the Dragonkeepers echoed through the halls.


    Rhaegar, hidden by the dim night, peered through a floor-to-ceiling ss window. A sneer formed on his lips. "You dare toe? Then don''t expect to leave."


    A gust of wind swept through the area, parting the dark clouds to reveal a sliver of bright moonlight. A ck dragon''s shadow loomed overhead.


    "Roar..."


    The dark green dragonfire descended with a roar, mercilessly bombarding the lines outside the building.


    "Ah!......"


    "The ck dragon is here, run away..."


    Cannibal circled the building, unleashing Dragonfire. The green mes traced a huge circle, leaving charred bodies and endless screams in its wake.


    Ny percent of the Lys guards perished, their deaths agonizing. Those who survived the initial assault were soon caught in the spreading mes, ignited by contact with burning people or buildings. The green dragonfire clung like a curse, consuming flesh and bone.


    The doors of the building swung open. Rhaegar emerged, silver hair drenched in blood, eyes cold and piercing. His ck robe billowed in the wind as he surveyed the sea of fire, sword in hand. The archers, momentarily stunned, drew their bows and fired.


    Whoosh whoosh whoosh...


    Arrows rained down, aiming directly at Rhaegar. But Cannibal swooped past, a wall of searing green Dragonfire erupting in front of the building. The arrows ignited mid-air, disintegrating into ash before they could reach their target.


    Rhaegar raised his sword, pointing at the surrounding skyscrapers. "Dracarys!" hemanded in High Valyrian.


    Cannibal responded instantly, spewing Dragonfire that engulfed the high buildings, copsing structures, and setting everything aze. In mere moments, the entire area was reduced to scorched ruins.


    Stepping through the burning green mes, Rhaegar shouted, "Everyone, follow me! We''re heading to the Rogare garrison!"


    The Rogare House had built their garrison and bank close to each other. Leading his troops, Rhaegar swiftly turned a corner and kicked open the solid wooden courtyard door of the Rogare residence. The Dragonkeepers stormed in.


    The courtyard, already ravaged by Dragonfire,y mostly in ruins. The Rogare family had fled, leaving their ves behind to die. Rhaegar ordered the ves freed, allowing them to leave on their own.


    Rhaegar then led a search through the mansion. In their haste, the fleeing Rogare family had abandoned many valuables, which the Dragonkeepers eagerly seized.


    "Prince, a treasure trove has been discovered!" a Dragonkeeper shouted in surprise.


    Rhaegar approached a luxurious pavilion with flowing water, but suddenly, the space wrist on his arm buzzed twice. Startled, he retrieved a glowing scroll from his spatial bracelet��the [Mysterious Scroll].


    Rhaegar raised his eyebrows slightly as he unfolded the yellowed leather scroll. It emitted a faint glow, outlining a line that turned into close coordinates.


    Comparing the surroundings, Rhaegar pointed directly at the flowing water pavilion, his mind shing back to his earlier exploration of ckfyre and instantly understood the situation.


    Inside the Water Pavilion were relics from ancient Valyria, a discovery that thrilled him, though he hadn''t anticipated what came next.


    Upon entering, a secret passageway revealed itself beneath the stone table. The Dragonkeepers who discovered it were the first to venture in, torches in hand.


    Excited voices soon echoed, "Prince, we''ve found a treasure trove of fine artifacts and even a Valyrian steel sword!" With those words, a Dragonkeeper appeared, clutching a rustic longsword that resembled a half-sword.


    "Excellent work. Remember to im your reward," Rhaegar praised, epting the longsword with great interest. Its appearance was unassuming, the de adorned with a dragon motif, its eyes two rice-sized rubies.


    When the longsword was sheathed, its cold sheen and rippling water-like patterns left no doubt - it was Valyrian steel.


    In the next moment, the Exploration System emitted a series of beeps, resonating in Rhaegar''s ears.


    "This exploration mission is now active. The target: the Valyrian steel sword, Truth."


    [Truth]


    Exploration progress: 0.3%


    As the progress bar appeared, Rhaegar''s lips curled upward, his excitement growing.


    Without hesitation, he slung Truth over his back and pushed the exploration forward.


    "Search thoroughly, retreat in ten minutes!" Rhaegar''s voice echoed loud and clear.


    He lifted his gaze to the sky, witnessing its chaotic and dim appearance as the crescent moon descended.


    Dawn was approaching; it was time to evacuate Lys.


    Thirty minutester, the scattered group reassembled at Lys Harbor.


    Rhaegar scanned the gathering.


    Be it the Dragonkeepers, the Second Sons, or the Knights of the Vale, all were adorned with blood, their armorden with spoils.


    "We''ve lost a few hundred," Rhaegar noted, recognizing the absence of some familiar faces.


    Approaching him, Robb, his visage obscured by blood, reported solemnly, "Many were ambushed; it was a hard-fought escape."


    Acknowledging the situation with a nod, Rhaegar ordered, "Board the ships swiftly; we depart immediately."


    In an orderly manner, starting with the Dragonkeepers who boasted the richest haul, the soldiers embarked.


    Scores of ves surrounded them, kneeling on the harbor, yearning to apany the departing group.


    "Your Grace?" Robb hesitated.


    Observing the tired, bloodied ves, some wielding crude weapons, others carrying the heads of the wealthy, Rhaegar paused for a moment.


    Then he dered with a determined voice, "If you seek freedom, fight for it yourselves. Unburnt ships await in the harbor; set sail for Westeros. The Targaryens wee those who refuse very!"


    With that, he instructed, "Set sail, leaving one ship to slow down and allow the ve ships to keep pace."


    Filled with admiration, Robb replied, "Yes, Prince.


    The ves, stirred by the prospect of liberation, surged into the sea and swam to the saved ships. Many wept and bowed in awe, chanting, "The Dragonlord... Breaker of Shackles..."


    Hearing their cries, Rhaegar''s heart stirred with an unfamiliar emotion. He was not naturallypassionate, but he abhorred the institution of very. To give them a chance to fight for their freedom felt right.


    The warships departed, leaving the ruins of Lys - once prosperous, now reduced to rubble and ash - in their wake. Lys'' decline from a leading free trade city-state to the bottom of the barrel would be swift.


    On the deck, Rhaegar gazed into the distance as the warm sun rose above the horizon, dispersing the darkness of the night.


    Calling to Robb, who was overseeing the preparations, Rhaegar announced, "I will take a stroll through the Kingdom of the Daughters. You will sail straight back to King''s Landing."


    "Prince..." Robb tried to dissuade him.


    Rhaegar brushed aside his concerns and said firmly, "This marks the return of the dragons to Essos; Lys alone will not be enough.


    Robb had no room to argue as Cannibal swooped down, its powerful gusts propelling the ship forward.

 Chapter 224: The Ruin Maker

    Chapter 224: The Ruin Maker


    Rhaegar stood at the bow of the ship, his eyes locked on the approaching dragon. As Cannibal drew parallel with the warship, he seized his moment and leapt.


    **Plop!**


    Hended heavily on Cannibal''s back, rolling to absorb the impact before gripping the dragon''s scales firmly. Standing tall, Rhaegar shouted joyfully, "Cannibal, let''s go!"


    Cannibal roared, lifting its head high and pping its massive wings. With a powerful thrust, they ascended into the air.


    Below, Robb watched in awe, his mouth agape at the sight. Rhaegar and Cannibal��man and dragon��no, it was man and two dragons. As Cannibal soared skyward, Rhaegar perched on its back, they quickly vanished into the morning sun''s golden sea of clouds.


    The Gray Ghost, not wanting to be left behind, roared in frustration and took off in pursuit. Together, the two dragons climbed higher and higher until they disappeared into the horizon.


    ...


    At the same time.


    Inside the castle on Dragonstone Ind.Rhaenyray on the bed, dark circles under her eyes, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Ever since Rhaegar decided to attack the Triarchy Kingdom, she hadn''t closed her eyes for days. She was deeply worried.


    Looking out the window, she saw the foggy sky, another sleepless night. Her eyes filled with fatigue, she shook the bell on the bedside table.


    Creak...


    The door opened, and a beautiful young girl from a foreignnd walked in.


    Rhaenyra asked, "Sara, did Rhaegar tell you when he will be back?"


    Sara, the maid Rhaegar had assigned to her, shook her head and replied dryly, "No."


    "How many soldiers did Rhaegar take with him?" Rhaenyra asked again.


    "I don''t know," Sara responded tersely.


    Sensing Sara''s cold attitude, Rhaenyra bit her lip. "Tell me what you do know."


    Rhaegar had specially assigned this personal maid before his departure; she couldn''t believe Sara knew nothing.


    As expected, Sara hesitated before her lips curled into a meaningless smile. "Are you sure you want to know?"


    "Of course, tell me," Rhaenyra said, unable to stand Sara''s arrogant attitude and growing emotionally annoyed.


    Sara''s voice was faint, "I''m afraid if I tell you, you''ll feel pressured." She walked slowly to the bedside and sat down without hesitation.


    Rhaenyra pushed herself up, her face expressionless. "Tell me, word for word."


    "As you wish." Sara stroked her long hair, deliberately drawing it out, and said mysteriously, "My mission was simple. The prince gave me only two instructions."


    "What are they?" Rhaenyra''s gaze was harsh, urging her to speak quickly.


    Sara smiled unconcernedly. "One, to keep you safe."


    "And two?" Rhaenyra pressed.


    Sara''s words trailed off into a teasing smile.


    p...


    Rhaenyra raised her hand and pped her across the face, furious. "Bitch, I am the princess of Dragonstone Ind, Rhaegar''s sister, and you dare to tease me!?"


    Who did she think she was to give me such an arrogant look?


    Sara, her head whipped to the side, a trace of blood at the corner of her mouth, responded, "Well, you made me say it." She resumed her cool demeanor under Rhaenyra''s furious gaze. Her eyes were ice-cold as she said, "Second, if the prince has any idents, I am to immediately assassinate the queen and the remaining three princes."


    Upon hearing this, Rhaenyra was instantly stunned. Thousands of emotions flooded her, her eyes wide with disbelief. She stammered, "Assassinate Alicent... and..."


    Sara cut her off coldly, "Aegon, Aemond, and Prince Daeron."


    Before leaving, Rhaegar expected to win but prepared for the worst. If he were to meet a fate simr to Aemon Targaryen, assassinated, or Rhaenys Targaryen, shot in the eye by a scorpion crossbow and dying with her dragon, then his shadow would kill Alicent and his three half-brothers immediately, paving the way for Rhaenyra to inherit the Iron Throne.


    You shouldn''t me him for being cruel. While alive, Rhaenyra was his sister and his brothers were his valuable assets. If he died, Rhaenyra was still his sister, and his brothers were a destabilizing factor.


    Rhaegar had only one thought: "Keep Rhaenyra safe at all costs."


    Rhaenyra was in a daze, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. "Rhaegar..."


    She wanted to say something, but her throat felt blocked, choking on her words.


    ...


    King��s Landing, Red Keep.


    "Skr, prepare breakfast for me. I''m going to meet the Kingter."


    Inside the bedroom, Jeyne''s eyes were sleepy as she softly called out to her personal maid.


    "Yes, Lady Jeyne."


    Skr pulled open the curtains and then gently stepped out of the room.


    Bang...


    The door closed.


    Skr leaned her back against the door, ncing around vigntly.


    Confirming that no one was there, she reached into her chest and pulled out a piece of letter paper and a small ss bottle, about the thickness of a finger.


    The ss bottle was delicate and filled with a clear, transparent liquid.


    Skr nced back at the door of the room, her eyes looked dark and uncertain, and opened the note to read it over.


    There were three small lines on the note:


    1. Protect Jeyne''s safety.


    2. If there is an ident, urge Jeyne to support Rhaenyra.


    3. If Jeyne and Rhaenyra turn against each other...


    There was another paragraph at the end, which Skr skipped.


    She crumpled the note a few times and swallowed it. After a month of close contact, she hade to sincerely admire thedy in the room.


    Looking at the only remaining vial in her hand, Skr''s eyes flickered with struggle, and she hid it deep in her chest.


    She firmly believed that, aside from the first directive on the letter, the other two should never be used.


    ...


    The sun rose slowly over Myr, one of the three Free Cities, revealing a surprisingly clear sky.


    "Roar.."


    The roar of a dragon echoed through the air, followed by an intense wave of dragonfire that grew in ferocity. Two dragons, one ck and one gray, soared above, their mes relentlessly raining down on the city below.


    Within an hour, smoke rose from the ruins and severed limbs littered the ground. Myr''s defenses, slightly stronger than Lys'', included a few scorpion crossbows mounted in the city''s towers.


    The first volley was aimed at the dragons, but their wrath was swift. Enraged, the dragons unleashed torrents of dragonfire, melting the towers tova and incinerating the defenders inside.


    At the Colosseum, chaos reigned.


    "Charge, he''s here!"


    A massive garrison stormed through the gates, their faces grim as they searched for the intruder.


    ng...


    A shackle hit the ground with a crisp sound, startling the guards. Their fierce gazes fell upon a silver-haired young man in a tattered ck robe, standing defiantly before the ves'' enclosure. His head held high, he stared back indifferently.


    The sight of the silver-haired boy ignited a frenzy among the guards. Enraged, they charged forward, shouting at the top of their lungs.


    "Kill him, kill him!"


    "Tear him apart!"


    Hundreds of guards rushed at him, but Rhaegar''s expression remained unchanged. He faced them with calmness. With a flick of his right hand, ance appeared in his grasp. His left hand drew Dragonw from his waist.


    "You will pay for your actions," Rhaegar dered, advancing steadily. Wielding both the spear and the sword with fluid grace, he prepared for battle.


    The spear, called "Morning Sun", was a new name he had chosen for his weapon after leaving Lys.


    Both the Morning Sun and the Dragonw were forged from the same Valyrian steel batch, its shaft was made of hardened wood, and the one-foot spearhead was particrly deadly.


    "Kill!" The guards charged, but Rhaegar was unfazed.


    The Morning Sun struck out, piercing a man''s eye socket, killing him instantly. The Dragonw parried a knife and an axe, then shed upward, severing another man''s head.


    Rumble...


    As the swordsmen shed, the iron fence gate at the back creaked open, kicking up a cloud of dust.


    ng...


    The rattle of chains echoed as arge group of muscr ves stood behind the gate, their shackles loose and ready for battle.


    "Charge! Kill the ve master''s dogs!" roared the tallest ve, his uncuffed shackles swinging like a morningstar.


    At hismand, the ves surged forward. From above, they looked like a flood, quickly filling the colosseum.


    Rhaegar plunged into the center of the guards, his spear and sword cutting through the air with deadly precision. No one dared toe within seven feet of him. After ying a dozen, the battle began to wane.


    ves overran the arena, and the hundreds of guards quickly found themselves overwhelmed. Those on the outskirts were chained by their necks and dragged out. The remaining guards were crushed under the weight of the pressing ves.


    Rhaegar raised his weapons high and bellowed, "Those who seek freedom,e with me and seize the ships in the harbor!"


    "As youmand, my lord!" the ves shouted, their excitement palpable as they followed Rhaegar out of the colosseum.


    "Roar..."


    The Gray Ghost glided overhead, and Dragonfire obliterated the colosseum, erasing the ce of suffering and cruelty.


    Rhaegar led the freed ves to the harbor, leaving them with a final message: "If you have nowhere else to go, follow me to Westeros!"


    The Cannibal descended from the sky, and Rhaegar mounted the dragon. Under the watchful eyes of countless ves, he soared into the sky.


    "Roar ga..."


    Before departing, Cannibal and Gray Ghost unleashed their final breaths of Dragonfire, reducing the remaining warships in the harbor to ashes.


    Rhaegar gazed down at the ves boarding the ships below, his heart swelling with a newfound sense of purpose.


    His father''s revocation of his military power had sparked a change in Rhaegar. He now sought arger army and a territory entirely under hismand. The ves he had freed were his ideal soldiers andmanders.


    As Cannibal soared through the clouds, Rhaegar opened his arms to the mist and cool breeze. Closing his eyes in ecstasy, he murmured, "Father, King''s Landing is no longer my only goal. This young dragon will finally fly high."


    King''s Landing had been a shelter for years. Now, he was ready to grow. A dragon was destined for the sky and the sea.


    Opening his eyes with newfound rity, Rhaegar dered, "Next stop, Tyrosh!"


    "Roar..."


    In response, two dragon roars, one high and one low, stirred the clouds as they sped towards their next conquest.


    ...


    The King''s Pce.


    The King''s Bedchamber.


    Viserys sat dispiritedly at the table, idly fiddling with the stone sculptures that cluttered its surface. Aside from banquets and tournaments, stone carving was one of his few hobbies.


    He had been carving alongside the artisans for several years and had crafted aplete replica of the "Fortress of Freedom" in Old Valyria.


    Viserys picked up a dragon sculpture, examining it closely before cing it in front of him. He repeated the process with a second, then a third, until five dragon statues stood shakily before him.


    Despite his usual passion for stone carving, Viserys found no joy in it today. He felt feverish and restless.


    Rhaegar had been gone for five days following their confrontation. In that time, Viserys received a letter from Aegon informing him that Rhaegar had defied his orders and led a surprise attack on Tyrosh with 2,000 soldiers.


    "s, it was too risky. I should have sent more troops with him," Viserys sighed deeply, tilting his head back in resignation.

 Chapter 225: The Mysterious Black Stone Magic

    Chapter 225: The Mysterious ck Stone Magic


    Viserys was furious when he learned that Rhaegar had acted on his own. Days had passed since their separation, and his worries grew heavier with each moment.


    "If I had known Rhaegar was so stubborn, I never should have revoked his military power," he muttered to himself, his frustration palpable.


    "Rhaegar, you''re starting to worry me too much," Viserys sighed, rubbing his forehead.


    Knock, knock...


    A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.


    "Come in," Viserys replied without lifting his head.


    The door creaked open, and Otto walked in.


    Viserys nced up briefly, asking, "What''s the matter?"


    He desperately wanted to be alone to calm down."Your Grace, news from the Rivends," Otto announced solemnly. "ckwood and Bracken have defied your orders. Ser Harwin, coborating with the Tullys, led a force to deter them but was insulted by both houses."


    "This is intolerable!" Viserys eximed in frustration.


    Otto continued, "There was a confrontation. Ser Harwin fought bravely, defeating both armies and making a name for himself in the Rivends."


    "That''s good news, it weakens both houses significantly," Viserys remarked, surprised.


    Otto shook his head, his expressionplicated. "After the victory, Old Lord Tully organized a celebration banquet, only to be attacked by the Bracken House. His eldest son was killed in the turmoil."


    "Those bastards! What about the front line?" Viserys was shocked, unable to believe the Brackens dared to attack their feudal lord.


    Otto sighed, "The army in Riverrun suffered heavy losses. Lord Lyonel was seriously injured. Ser Harwin led a retreat back to Harrenhal for defense."


    The battle had urred between Riverrun and Harrenhal. After the attack, the Bracken House blocked the army''s retreat to Riverrun, forcing Harwin to lead his men back to Harrenhal, where they were besieged.


    In addition, the Peasants'' Alliance was stirring up trouble in the Rivends and growing more powerful by the day. This was undoubtedly very bad news.


    Understanding the gravity of the situation, Viserys'' anger red. "Damn Bracken! They dare to rebel?"


    He stood abruptly, intending to call an emergency meeting. But after only two steps, an unnatural flush appeared on his face and dizziness overcame him. His legs gave way and he began to fall.


    "Your Grace, be careful!" Otto caught him in time.


    "Otto..." Viserys forced himself to stay conscious, gritting his teeth. "Call a Small Council meeting immediately. We must discuss a crusade against the ckwood and Bracken Houses."


    He, Viserys I, would ensure that these rebellious Houses paid the price they deserved.


    ...


    One of the Triarchy, Tyrosh


    "Fire! Aim at the dragon!"


    "Run away!"


    In the open sky, two massive dragons circled, unleashing torrents of Dragonfire.


    Tyrosh''s defenses were formidable, with over a hundred scorpion crossbows stationed in towers to counter the dragons'' aerial threat.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared in fury, gliding over the city-state with deadly precision, his dragonfire obliterating tower after tower.


    Gray Ghost followed, raining fireballs down on the swarming guards in the streets.


    Famous for its mercenaries, Tyrosh was surrounded by an imprable ck wall. It was the most fortified city of the three Triarchy states.


    Unfortunately, even the most experienced mercenaries and guards could not withstand the relentless onught of dragonfire. The ck walls were no match for the flying beasts.


    The bombardment raged for two hours.


    Tyrosh was cleansed by fire. Wealthy merchants who hadn��t sought refuge in air raid shelters fled, driving their ves to clear the way.


    Boom!


    A st of Dragonfire struck a nearby tower, which copsed with a deafening crash, sending rubble raining down.


    "Ah!......"


    The falling debris crushed ves and a wealthy merchant who had been loudly cursing his fate.


    Blood and fire marked every corner of Tyrosh.


    Rhaegar, atop his dragon, gazed down at the tragic scene below. Unlike Lys and Myr, Tyrosh was too heavily fortified for him to prate alone. He could only destroy as many buildings as possible, unable to free the ves within.


    "Let''s go, Cannibal!"


    With the city in ruins, Rhaegar was satisfied. Riding his dragon, he soared towards the sea.


    As they passed the inner city''s ck wall, a group of ck-armored soldiers shouted.


    "Prepare to throw spears!"


    Rhaegar watched as the soldiers hurled their spears with all their might. The spears flew through the air but fell short, not even grazing Cannibal.


    Undeterred, the ck-armored soldiers shouted again, "Prepare bows and arrows for a second volley!"


    But the soldiers had only spears and shields; no bows and arrows were in sight, and they were ill-positioned to shoot even if they had them.


    Rhaegar looked on with disdain and said coolly, "Dracarys!"


    Cannibal reversed direction, swooping down and unleashing another wave of Dragonfire, incinerating everything in its path.


    Boom...


    Under the dark green Dragonfire, the ck-armored soldiers were consumed in mes.


    Just as Rhaegar thought it was over, another wave of ck-armored soldiers appeared. About a thousand strong, they dragged in a dozen scorpion crossbows, quickly loading them with steel spears and aiming at Cannibal, ready to fire.


    "Roar..."


    Gray Ghost emerged from the side, unleashing Dragonfire that mercilessly incinerated hundreds of soldiers.


    Strangely enough, the survivors did not flee. Instead, they fearlessly raised their round shields to buy time for those manning the scorpion crossbows.


    Seeing this unimaginable scene, Rhaegar frowned deeply. "Unsullied?"


    This kind of emotionless, fearless war machine could only be the Unsullied army trained by Astapor.


    "Stripped of their humanity since childhood, they are a pitiable lot," Rhaegar muttered to himself. "Let''s make it quick, Dracarys!"


    The lives of the Unsullied were already filled with pain and sorrow. It was better to end it quickly.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal hovered above the ck wall, its jaws opening wide as Dragonfire erupted.


    In an instant, thousands of Unsullied were engulfed in mes, leaving only charred remains.


    Drip...


    The relentless dragonfire melted the solid ck wall, causing a dark solution to drip from the top.


    Rhaegar watched with interest, examining the material of the wall. ording to ancient records, the Dragonlords of old Valyria were masters of both Bloodmagic and Firemagic.


    Much like the castle on Dragonstone Ind and the ck Wall of Vntis, the inner city walls of Tyrosh were made of ck dragonstone created by these ancient magics.


    During the Freehold era, the Dragonlords'' buildings were majestic and unmatched in strength and grandeur.


    Rhaegar sighed softly. "If I knew this kind of magic, the Dragonpit could be rebuilt effortlessly."


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal''s roar shattered his reverie, pulling him back to reality.


    Rhaegar smiled helplessly. "Let''s go, old friend."


    It was time to im their victory. The three cities of the Triarchy were ravaged by fire.


    Cannibal snorted and carried him, flying toward the Stepstones Inds.


    Gray Ghost yfully spat out more dragonfire and sted the ck wall a few more times. Seeing little effect, it followed Cannibal''s path and left in a hurry.


    ...


    Lys.


    After a night of sneaking out of Tyrosh, Lysandro Rogare finally returned to Lys. As he approached the harbor, the sight of ck smoke billowing over the city filled him with dread.


    Lys was destroyed! The dragon hadn''t attacked Tyrosh; it had invaded Lys instead.


    "Dock the ship! My family, my bank!" Lysandro''s voice was hoarse with panic and rage as he surveyed the burning hulks in the harbor. The Bank of Rogare was his family''s lifeline, holding savings from all over the world.


    If it was gone, so was the fortune of the Rogare House. Lysandro knew that without those savings, the people of Lys would turn against him, and the family would face retaliation from depositors worldwide.


    As soon as the ship docked, Lysandro sprinted ashore and raced to the familypound. Along the way, he saw many ves fleeing to the surviving ships.


    "Look, it''s the First Magister of Lys!"


    "The First Magister Lys is here!"


    Recognized by the hate-driven ves, Lysandro was soon surrounded.


    "Kill! Kill all these wretched ves!" Lysandro, no longer in control of his emotions, raised his whip and struck at the Unsullied guards.


    The Unsullied, stoic and obedient, responded, "Yes!"


    Swish, swish, swish...


    Five hundred Unsulliednded on the shore, surrounding Lysandro and forming a human wall with their spears and shields. Any ve who dared to attack was swiftly killed. The Unsullied''s strength was undeniable, and the ves, despite their numbers, were no match.


    With the Unsullied protecting him, Lysandro made his way to the Bank of Rogare and the familypound. What he found was devastating: the bank had been ransacked by angry ves, and the vaults were emptied. The empty halls echoed with his cries of despair.


    "Brother, you have finally returned." Drazenko Rogare ran in, tears streaming down his face. He had been hiding in an air raid shelter and only emerged when Rhaegar and his dragon left.


    Seeing the family residence in ruins, with valuable items stolen and everything else burned, he was in shock. Even the horses had been ughtered.


    "Brother, the dragons attacked Lys, and the ves are revolting all over the city. What should we do?" Drazenko shouted, his voice filled with desperation.


    Lysandro looked up, his face a mask of hopelessness. "What can we do? We might as well be dead."


    The current situation was worse than death.


    The words had barely left his mouth when an unusual sound echoed from above. A piece of the masonry ceiling began toe loose.


    Lysandro heard it and looked up, disbelief etched on his face.


    The next second.


    A rumble...


    A one meter square piece of stone fell, hitting Lysandro directly. The impact was devastating, shattering his bones and instantly turning him into a gruesome mess of flesh and blood.


    Blood sttered Drazenko''s cheeks, and he stared wide-eyed, trembling with shock. "Brother!!!" he cried.


    Suddenly, a group of ves burst into the bank shouting, "Fight for your freedom and kill the exploiters of Rogare!"


    Drazenko immediately turned, grabbed his whip from the pile of blood, and ordered the Unsullied to fight back. "Kill them! Kill this damn ves, these damn creatures!"


    With numb expressions, the Unsullied looked at the whip in Drazenko''s hand. Astapor''s training methods had conditioned them to obey the person wielding the whip.


    "Quick, kill them!" Drazenko roared,shing the whip and pointing at the approaching ves.


    Swish...


    The Unsullied obeyed, forming a shield wall to block the ves.


    The ves hesitated, their charge faltering.


    Seeing this, Drazenko felt a surge of relief andshed the Unsullied one by one, snarling, "Go on, eunuchs! You''re as worthless as this group of ves!"


    The whip cracked against the Unsullied''s flesh, drawing blood, but they stood their ground, enduring the blows.


    The ves were dumbfounded and yelled, "Why are you listening to him? The Breaker of Shackles gave the ves their freedom, you should fight back!"


    Pfft...


    The answer came in the form of sharp spears. The Unsullied marched forward, stabbing the front rows of ves with precision. The untrained ves were no match for the disciplined Unsullied and fell in droves.


    The ves, unable to withstand the attack, began to retreat.


    "Haha, kill them all!" Drazenkoughed maniacally,shing out with his whip.


    Click...


    A strange sound came from above again. Drazenko''s body stiffened as a creeping dread rose within him. He slowly lifted his head.


    Another piece of the stone ceiling had loosened and was about to fall.


    Drazenko ran for his life.


    The stone fell, hitting Drazenko head-on with a loud thud. His skull cracked, and his upper body was crushed into a pulp.


    Coincidentally, this stonended right next to the one that had killed his brother.


    And so, the Rogare brothers met their end beneath the masonry of their family bank.


    With Drazenko dead, the whip he held was crushed and disappeared into the flesh. The Unsullied noticed this.


    They stopped moving, maintaining their shield formation, and fell into a strange, dead silence. The Unsullied were ve soldiers, conditioned to follow their master''smand. Without orders, they stood frozen, like powerless automatons.


    The ves, realizing this, picked up their weapons and approached the Unsullied, making tentative attacks.


    One of the ves smashed an Unsullied''s head with his axe, and suddenly the ves were overjoyed. "These souless men are fools! They won''t move without their masters. Grab them and kill them!"


    Soon, the Unsullied fell one by one, killed without resistance.


    "Haha, if you don''t even want your freedom, you might as well die," a burly ve mocked as he slit an Unsullied''s throat.


    Pfft...


    A spear pierced through his chest, taking his life. The other ves gasped in horror, not expecting the Unsullied to fight back.


    Eyes focused on the Unsullied who had struck out with the spear. Sensing the attention, the Unsullied soldier drew his spear back, switched from a shield position to standing straight.


    Swish Swish...


    The other Unsullied followed suit, forming a neat formation. They waited for a moment. The punishment for unauthorized action did note.


    The lead Unsullied leaned his spear against his chest, removed his ck iron helmet with his free hand, revealing a youthful face with dark brown skin. Three sharp spikes adorned his helmet, signifying his rank and ability to lead.


    Ignoring the frightened ves, he walked towards the remains of Drazenko. The stone was massive, crushing the flesh and blood into a gruesome mess.

 Chapter 226: The History of “Truth”

    Chapter 226: The History of ��Truth��


    Dragonstone Ind, Dragonmont - One Day Later


    "Roar..."


    Gray Ghost, sleek and alert, perched atop the ck stone mountain, its slender neck stretching as it scanned the surroundings with vignt eyes.


    Beside ity a muchrger Cannibal, over twice its size, sprawled on the ground with its green eyes tightly shut and its long, slender tail hanging low off the edge of the cliff.


    Between the two dragons was a t rock where Rhaegary in a deep sleep. He wore a tattered ck robe, his silvery hair spread out around him, and used the tip of Gray Ghost''s tail as a pillow.


    A light summer breeze blew, causing the ck robe to shift slightly, revealing the hilt of a dark sword tucked underneath.


    Just yesterday, Rhaegar and his two dragons hadunched a fierce attack on the three free-trading city-states of Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh, collectively known as the Triarchy. The assault sparked widespread ve uprisings against the oppressive regimes of these ve cities.


    The battle left the Triarchy''s power severely diminished, stripping them of the strength to challenge the Stepstones. After his victorious campaign, Rhaegar returned to Dragonstone Ind and chose to rest on Dragonmont for the night.


    He chose not to return to the castle. The attack had been so sessful that he felt overwhelmed and wasn''t ready to face his father or Rhaenyra.Rhaegar snored softly, sleeping soundly, unaware of the dream forming in his mind.


    In his dream, waves gently rolled in as a cool breeze blew through. An ind city appeared, set in the summer sea. The ind had a temperate climate, abundant sunshine, fertilend, and was dotted with palm and fruit trees. The sea was a vibrant green, with fish asionally leaping out of the water.


    Rhaegar''s vision zoomed in on the ind city. The inhabitants had blue eyes, tinum curls, and smooth skin. Among them were numerous poor ves of various skin tones and hair colors.


    Rhaegar instantly recognized the ce: "Lys!"


    "Roar!!"


    A deafening dragon roar echoed across the sea, jolting Rhaegar. His vision zoomed in further to reveal a circr building within the city-state. Inside, a massive dragon with silver scales was shackled at its neck and feet, thrashing wildly in the confined space.


    The dream''s vividness and intensity gripped Rhaegar, pulling him deeper into the unfolding vision of the enved dragon within the walls of Lys.


    "Kill it!"


    "Kill the dragon!"


    Arge mob swarmed into the building, wielding axes, spears, and other weapons. Their faces twisted with grim determination, they charged at the dragon.


    Among them were ves and soldiers alike, united by a shared purpose.


    The dragon pped its massive wings and unleashed Dragonfire, incinerating scores of people. But the mes failed to deter the mob, driven by their blinding hatred.


    The vesunched suicidal attacks, hacking and shing with everything they had. They vowed to shatter the dragon''s scales and inflict whatever damage they could.


    The dragon swayed violently, tossing the attacking ves like rag dolls, their bodies crumpling on impact. Dragonfire erupted in columns, scorching all who dared approach. But the crowd only grewrger, more frenzied in its assault.


    The chaos continued well into the evening. The building was littered with charred bodies and debris, every brick scorched by the mes. The dragony on the ground, badly scarred and gasping for breath. More chains had been attached to its neck, and spears had pierced its wing membranes, further anchoring it.


    But the mob persisted, hacking at the dragon''s scales and stabbing at its bleeding wounds.


    "Roar...


    Unable to retreat, the dragon threw back its head and roared in desperation.


    With onest desperate effort, the dragon rose, tearing off its shackles even as the chains tore at its wing membranes. Its golden eyes fixed on the dome above, and it leapt upward, mming its head into the stone structure.


    Rumble!


    The dome copsed, bringing down the entire structure. Rocks and debris fell, crushing the dragon and the mob alike. Blood poured like a river from the dragon''s wounds, mingling with the rubble.


    The dragon yers, consumed by their own fervor, were buried beneath the thousands of stones.


    After a long silence, nothing remained but ruins.


    Rhaegar looked on, horrified and speechless. The same grim scenes yed out across Lys.


    A brownish-gray dragon flew over the city, vulnerable and exposed. Below, a dozen scorpion crossbows lurked in the shadows.


    Thwack!


    A steel spear shot out, piercing the dragon''s chest.


    "Roar..."


    The dragon screamed in agony, its flight bing unstable as blood gushed from the wound. More scorpion spears followed, piercing the dragon''s body until it fell lifeless to the ground.


    A luxurious rooftop in a high-rise building.


    A middle-aged man with silver-blond hair stood nervously, his hand clutching a Valyrian steel sword at his waist.


    Rhaegar watched the scene and recognized the name of the sword.


    "Truth"


    "Charge, the damn Dragonlord is inside."


    "Be quiet, don''t let him find out..."


    Murderous whispers drifted up from below.


    "Lilith, take your dragon and hide," the Master of Truthmanded through gritted teeth, ncing at the little girl behind him.


    She had silver-gold curls and deep purple eyes, curled up in the corner of the bed, clutching a red-scaled dragon cub the size of a cat.


    The baby dragon wriggled and struggled, letting out a low roar as if it sensed danger.


    Bang...


    The door burst open and arge number of soldiers burst into the room.


    "Kill these remnants of the Freehold!"


    "There''s still a dragon! Kill the dragon!"


    The soldiers roared furiously and surrounded the Master of Truth. They quickly beheaded him.


    The little girl and the red-scaled dragon met the same fate, ughtered without mercy.


    Rhaegar frowned and clenched his fists, understanding the historical context of his dream.


    After the fall of Valyria, the Freehold copsed overnight. Of the forty dragonlord families, only the Targaryens survived, having moved to Dragonstone in response to Daenys Targaryen''s prophecy. The other thirty-nine families had some living members scattered around the world.


    At the time, Lys was a colony of Valyria, known as the greatest summer resort in the world. Some dragonlords enjoyed this paradise and escaped the initial catastrophe. But they underestimated the horrors of human nature.


    The Valyrian Freehold had enved Essos for centuries, and many people suffered under the dragonlords'' rule. When Valyria was destroyed, the oppressed rose up in rebellion.


    The people of Lys, including the ves, hunted down and killed the dragons in theirirs and the defenseless Dragonlords.


    The scene shifted to a bustling marketce in Lys.


    Several severed heads with silver-gold hair hung from bamboo poles. Three dragon corpses - tworge and three small - were being loaded onto rafts by ves and dragged out to sea for disposal.


    There were no more dragonlord families or dragons left in Lys.


    The era of free trade and city-states had begun.


    Ka-ka-ka-ka...


    The dream shattered into silence.


    Rhaegar''s eyelids fluttered slightly as he woke from his sleep.


    "This quest is over. Please pick up the lost treasures," a system notification sounded in his ears. Rhaegar opened his eyes, groaning softly.


    "Hmph..."


    His pale face was streaked with blood, his violet eyes unfocused, and his expression was somber.


    The system interface appeared automatically.


    [Truth]


    Exploration Progress: 100%


    "Explorationpleted..."


    Scratching his messy silver hair, Rhaegar sat up, propping himself with one hand and reaching for the sword, "Truth," lying beside him.


    He recalled the dream he had just experienced.


    "That was the history of Truth?" he whispered, frozen in thought.


    The sword had once belonged to a surviving Dragonlord who was eventually killed, and after changing hands several times, it ended up with the Rogare family.


    "Well, they took it from a Dragonlord, and a Dragonlord took it from them. That''s fair enough." Rhaegar muttered with a rueful smile.


    He had little sympathy for the ughtered Dragonlords. The Forty Families had always been fiercelypetitive. Their demise and the loss of their dragons had paved the way for the rtively weak House Targaryen to rise and dominate Westeros.


    He looked down at the sword, its dragon-shaped de gleaming, the vertical pupils of the ruby-studded hilt shing ominously.


    "Your family is dead. From now on, yourst name is Targaryen," he muttered, setting "Truth" aside.


    In his pocket, a grapefruit-sized purple orb of light trembled, glowing faintly.


    Rhaegar rubbed his hands together, silently praying to Balerion, "Please ck Dread, help me with another valuable relic."


    Reaching out, he touched the purple orb.


    Wave~


    The orb shattered at his touch, dissolving into a flurry of glowing particles.


    "Relic picked up sessfully. Detecting..."


    "Detection sessful. Recognized as an epic-level relic: The History of "Truth"."


    Rhaegar examined the relic''s keywords.


    "Buried in the long river of history, the tragedy waits for the same family to avenge the hatred."


    Rhaegar frowned, pondering the meaning.


    "Revenge?"


    He muttered, wondering if burning Lys counted.


    As the thought crossed his mind, the relic activated.


    "Congrattions, the truth of history has been activated. You have obtained..."


    [Blood Sorcery: Dragonstone]


    Grade: Excellent (Blue)


    Function: Gathering materials, mobilizing blood magic, and melting ck dragon stone.


    Evaluation: "Blood sorcery from the old Valyrian era with infinite creative power."


    The knowledge of Bloodmagic flooded into Rhaegar''s mind, making him tremble at the sudden influx. A cool sensation washed over him, leaving him feeling invigorated.


    Unlikest time, he managed to remain calm and savor the influx of knowledge.


    More than ten minutester, Rhaegar exhaled deeply, feeling refreshed. This kind of intellectual pleasure was intoxicating.


    He looked at his hands, chuckling. "Am I a Pyromancer and a Bloodmage now?"


    He called up his personal status screen and checked his skills.


    Rhaegar Targaryen


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold), Pyromancer (Purple), Longevity (Green)


    Bloodline: Ancient Valyrian Dragonlord (44%)


    Rune: Serpent (Blue), Bronze (Green)


    Blood Sorcery: Dragonstone (Blue)


    Relic: Blood and Fire, True Dragon Blood, Dreamscape...


    Evaluation: "The slumbering power of ancient bloodlines awakens in their heirs."


    "The skills have disappeared, reced by runes and blood sorcery," Rhaegar murmured, understanding the significance of his newfound abilities.


    From the inheritance of [Dragonstone], he had learned the basics of blood sorcery. Bloodmages relied on the magic hidden in their bloodline, requiring specific origins. Despite this, their path paralleled that of Pyromancers, both being the inherited knowledge of the Valyrian Dragonlords and not mutually exclusive.

 Chapter 227: Make You Queen

    Chapter 227: Make You Queen


    Putting away his status screen, Rhaegar smiled.


    A increase in strength was indeed a great thing.


    "Roar..."


    The Gray Ghost roared, its pale gray body looming over Rhaegar, its vertical pupils shing with curiosity.


    Normally shy and timid, this dragon preferred to move around the eastern shore of Dragonstone Ind. Its favorite ce to hide was among the clouds and mist.


    "Shy dragon, thanks to your efforts," Rhaegar said, supporting himself on the ground with both hands and looking up at the Grey Ghost with a smile. This family member was still very kindhearted.


    As soon as he had reached the east coast, the Gray Ghost had sensed his presence ande to him. The dragon had yed a crucial role in their attack on the Triarchy; without its help, Cannibal''s firepower alone would not have been enough.


    The Gray Ghost flicked its tail, its amber pupils staring at Rhaegar with an expression of affection and familiarity.


    Rhaegar reached out a hand and raised it high. The Gray Ghost, understanding his intent, lowered its head and pressed its muzzle against his palm in a gentle gesture."Come with me, Gray Ghost," Rhaegar said, rubbing his light gray scales and speaking softly.


    The Gray Ghost, usually alone on Dragonstone Ind, had nowhere else to go. It might as well follow him, forming a new deterrent against their enemies.


    "Roar..."


    The gray ghost cocked its head, seeming a bit confused.


    As Rhaegar continued to stroke it, the dragon began to rx, its massive body dropping to the ground.


    Man and dragon looked at each other, a bond forming between them. Rhaegar kept his smile, showing his kindness and gratitude to the Gray Ghost.


    The dragon''s nostrils exhaled warm air, and its pupils reflected Rhaegar��s image.


    First, the long silver-gold hair, then the beautiful face...


    Time passed slowly.


    The reflection in the Gray Ghost��s eyespleted the upper half of Rhaegar��s body, but the lower half remained unseen, its revtion dyed.


    Suddenly, the sleeping Cannibal opened its eyes, staring menacingly at the Gray Ghost. With a thunderous roar, "Roar gah!", it sent waves of hot air sting across the mountaintop, nearly knocking Rhaegar off bnce.


    "Cannibal!" Rhaegar shouted urgently, trying to calm the furious dragon.


    The Gray Ghost, startled, froze and forgot to p its wings. It jumped back, hiding behind Rhaegar with its head tucked under its wings like an ostrich burying its head in the sand.


    Cannibal''s green eyes glinted with aggression as it slowly approached, its fierce snarl revealing sharp teeth.


    "Partner, calm down," Rhaegar said quickly, stepping in front of Cannibal and reaching out to restrain its wrath.


    He couldn''t let Cannibal attack the Gray Ghost. The disparity in their power was too great, and it could easily end in tragedy.


    "Whew!" Cannibal snorted, ring at Rhaegar with its vertical pupils.


    Such a foolish partner, is he really going to hook up with other dragons behind its back?


    Rhaegar sensed Cannibal''s displeasure clearly, feeling its thoughts through their shared bond.


    With a determined expression, he said, "Gray Ghost is our ally, remember? We burned down three free trade city-states together just yesterday. We need him."


    Cannibal''s gaze flicked between Rhaegar and the trembling Gray Ghost, and its anger slowly abated.


    Standing tall, Cannibal spread its ck wings, stretched its neck, and let out amanding roar to the sky.


    The Gray Ghost, still trembling, prostrated itself on the ground in submission.


    Rhaegar smiled in relief, knowing Cannibal''s resistance had dissipated. With the Valyrian steel sword "Truth" on his back, he approached Cannibal and climbed onto the saddle.


    Looking up, he saw the sky was clear and vast, filling his heart with a sense of boundless possibility.


    "Let''s go, aim for the sky!" Rhaegar shouted with renewed vigor.


    "Roar!" Cannibal roared, its massive wings beating as it soared into the sky.


    "Roar!" The Gray Ghost shrieked, pping its wings and following at a distance.


    One man and two dragons hovered above Dragonstone Ind, their joyousughter and roars echoing in the air.


    ...


    Three dayster.


    Inside the castle on Dragonstone Ind, on the open-air balcony, Rhaenyra stood in a red dress, her silver hair intricately braided behind her head. Her eyes, cold and distant, were fixed on the horizon.


    In the sky above the east coast, two dragons, one ck and one gray, danced through the clouds, yfully chasing each other.


    Footsteps approached. Rhaegar walked slowly towards Rhaenyra, carefully observing her expression. She remained unaware of his presence, her small hands gripping the railing so tightly her knuckles turned white.


    Three days ago, Rhaegar had returned to Dragonstone Ind. His first visit was to see her. They had embraced tightly, sharing their feelings. Then he mentioned Jeyne.


    "Bastard!" Rhaenyra''s face hardened at the thought of Jeyne, her grip on the railing tightening as if it were Jeyne��s neck. She had three best friends: Alicent, who married her father, Viserys; Laena, who married her uncle Daemon; and Jeyne, the traitor who dared to seduce her brother Rhaegar.


    "Rhaenyra, you''ve been on a hunger strike all day," Rhaegar said worriedly, reaching for her hand.


    "Get off!" Rhaenyra snapped, shaking off his hand. "I don''t need you to care."


    Rhaegar bowed his head, chastened. He knew he deserved her anger. "Rhaenyra, I can��t undo what happened, but I want to talk."


    "What is there to talk about?" Rhaenyra retorted, turning her head away, her anger barely contained. "Send Jeyne back to the Vale or don��te see me."


    She wouldn��t ept anything less. Jeyne had to leave King��s Landing and never return.


    Rhaegar gently took her hand. "Rhaenyra, you��ve been with me since childhood. You��re the only one in my heart."


    Her heart ached at his words. She turned, raising her hand to p him. But Rhaegar didn''t flinch, his eyes calm and steady. In that gaze, Rhaenyra''s resolve wavered. She couldn��t bring herself to strike him.


    Rhaegar had made a mistake, but he was still young. The mey with Jeyne, that shameless woman. She had failed to properly discipline her brother, and now she had to suffer for it.


    "Rhaegar, you''re an asshole!" Rhaenyra shouted, turning away again. Despite her anger, she couldn��t forget how well Rhaegar had treated her. Before attacking the Triarchy, he had nned for her future, showing how much he cared.


    She couldn''t let a single indiscretion ruin their bond.


    "Rhaenyra, don''t be angry with me. We shouldn''t be divided," Rhaegar pleaded, squeezing her hand gently.


    Rhaenyra refused to meet his gaze, her voice filled with bitterness. "What are you trying to say? That you want to have it all?"


    Her greatest fear had materialized. It wasn''t just jealousy��monogamy had been the rule in Westeros for centuries. Only Aegon the Conqueror had dared to break it. The Targaryen tradition had always shed with the world''s norms, often resulting in severe repercussions.


    During the reign of Aenys I, half the continent''s nobility revolted under the banner of the Faith of the Seven. Aenys fell ill from the stress, and his brother, Maegor I, usurped the throne, leading to a brutal reign marked by usurpation and murder. Peace was only restored when Jaehaerys I reconciled with the Faith, agreeing to monogamy while the Faith tacitly epted some Targaryen customs. This delicate bnce was vital.


    Rhaenyra feared that Rhaegar''s actions could shatter this fragile peace. It would be more disastrous than the invasion of Dorne or the conflicts with the Free Cities.


    Rhaegar sensed her worries and shook his head. "My power isn''t enough to challenge the Faith of the Seven," he said sincerely.


    But his words had a different implication. He wasn''t rejecting the possibility outright, merely acknowledging that he wasn''t strong enough yet. If the Targaryens regained their former glory andmanded a thousand dragons, he would think nothing of conquering the world, let alone defying the Faith.


    "Then what do you mean?" Rhaenyra demanded, turning sharply to face him. "You can only marry one."


    Her face changed as a thought struck her. "You''re not done with Jeyne, are you?"


    Rhaegar quickly denied it. "I''m not old enough to marry. Jeyne''s situation is different..."


    Before he could finish, Rhaenyra''s anger surged, and herposure shattered. She noticed the Dragon w sword at Rhaegar''s waist and, in a sh, drew it. She gripped the hilt tightly, the tip of the sword pressed against Rhaegar''s throat.


    "Say that again, I dare you," she hissed, her body trembling with rage.


    Rhaegar remained calm, letting the sword rest against his throat. "Rhaenyra, hear me out," he said solemnly. "Jeyne will always rank below you. I have a n that suits you better."


    "You''d better make yourself clear," Rhaenyra demanded, her eyes red with emotion, giving him a chance to exin.


    Rhaegar took a deep breath and spoke clearly. "I want you to be queen."


    Rhaenyra was stunned, momentarily speechless. The heir was Rhaegar��how could she be queen?


    "The chaos in the world never ends. Chaos is both a disaster and a stepping stone," Rhaegar said, his eyes deep and resolute. "The rebellion in Dorne and the Triarchy Kingdom will not stop; it will inevitably erupt again."


    With determination, he gently pressed the sword tip against his throat and continued, "I want to conquer new territories, and I want you to be queen."


    His n could involve taking Dorne, with its "Princess of Dorne" system, or one of the free-trading city-states. He envisioned giving this newnd to Rhaenyra to govern. They would both be rulers, siblings reigning over their domains.


    Rhaenyra was taken aback, not realizing the extent of Rhaegar''s ambition. "Has the sess of the Triarchy attack made him arrogant?" she wondered.


    At first, the idea of bing a queen made her heart race and her grip on Dragon w tremble. Fortunately, Rhaegar had the foresight to press the tip of the sword away from his throat.


    But then, she pushed the thought aside and refused. "No, you''ll never get rid of me."


    She dismissed the possibility of bing a queen, realizing that truly managing a kingdom would only distance her from Rhaegar, leaving Jeyne to benefit.


    Rhaegar set aside the dragon w and embraced her. "I never want to be apart from you," he said sincerely. "You''ve always wanted to be a queen, haven''t you?"


    He knew Rhaenyra well. She admired the Queen of Visenya and Nymeria, the past ruler of Dorne. A new territory needed a lord, and he preferred it to be a blood rtive rather than nobles with shifting loyalties. This would help spread the Targaryen bloodline and establish firm rules and restrictions.


    "Why don''t you ask Jeyne?" Rhaenyra retorted, her frustration clear.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were steadfast. "Jeyne belongs to the Vale. You and I are born of fire. The wind and rain cannot extinguish our me; we are destined to burn together."

 Chapter 228: Baratheon’s Difficulties

    Chapter 228: Baratheon��s Difficulties


    ng��


    Dragon w fell to the ground.


    Rhaenyra''s heart trembled at Rhaegar''s words, and she couldn''t hold her sword any longer. Deep down, she knew the truth.


    Her eyes reddened as she looked at Rhaegar, her voice quivering with emotion. "Rhaegar, you''ve wronged me."


    The temptation of bing a queen was undeniably strong, but she couldn''t bear the thought of Jeyne benefiting from it.


    "Rhaenyra, even if you don''t believe in me, you should have confidence in yourself," Rhaegar said, gently lifting her by the waist and setting her on the railing.


    Rhaenyra clutched his cor, tears streaming down her face. Rhaegar looked up at her with a serious expression. "We still have time, and I''m not going to let you settle for less."


    "I respect you, I love you. I will never abandon you," he continued. "But you are too important to me."


    Rhaenyra''s tears flowed freely as she buried her head in his shoulder, sobbing. The idea of ruling a kingdom alongside Rhaegar was irresistible."If I have a kingdom and Rhaegar by my side, I have no reason to refuse," she thought.


    Until then, Jeyne would have to return to the Vale and not share in her triumphs. Rhaegar was still three years away from adulthood. Until then, Rhaenyra would be in control.


    ...


    Noon.


    The hot summer winds swept across the ind, making the air heavy and sweltering.


    "Mmm, delicious," Rhaenyra mumbled between bites.


    A small round table wasden with various dishes, and Rhaenyra, knife and fork in hand, was devouring the food. She hadn��t eaten in a day and was famished.


    Rhaegar watched her with a smile, arranging food and pouring wine for her. The warmth of the moment filled him with a single thought: "My sister is really cute when she''s not angry."


    A gust of wind whistled past, ruffling Rhaenyra''s hair at her temples as the airflow reached the open-air balcony.


    Both siblings lifted their heads and looked up.


    "Roar��"


    A thunderous dragon roar echoed, and a massive dark green shape appeared in the sky above Dragonstone Ind.


    Rhaenyra��s eyes widened as she swallowed the crab meat in her mouth. "Laena?" she said in surprise.


    Rhaegar stood and walked to the railing, looking up at the enormous dragon.


    Green scales, leathery skin, a mountainous body��


    It was Vhagar.


    Vhagar��s cold eyes glided over the castle, descending slowly.


    Momentster, with a ground-shaking thud, Vhagarnded on a cliff next to the castle.


    "Rhaenyra!"


    Laena, wearing a red strap around Vhagar''s broad spine, smiled and waved from the balcony.


    Unbuckling the chain around her waist, Laena gracefully climbed down from the dragon��s back and strode towards the castle.


    Rhaenyra and Rhaegar watched her approach, exchanging looks of disbelief.


    Rhaenyra wiped her mouth and said, "Laena hasn''t visited in a long time."


    "You''re the host. Go greet her," Rhaegar said, pulling out her chair with a shrug.


    "Got it. And you won��t have to sleep on Dragonmont tonight," Rhaenyra said with a contented smile, straightening her skirt as she stood.


    Rhaegar sighed with relief and gestured for her to proceed.


    He had spent four days camped out at Dragonmont with Cannibal and Gray Ghost. When Rhaenyra was angry, there was no castle to sleep in, let alone a bed.


    Rhaenyra and Laena met in the castle��s first-floor lobby.


    "Laena!" Rhaenyra beamed, embracing her friend warmly.


    Laena returned the smile and patted her back, though she couldn��t help but wonder at Rhaenyra��s unusual warmth today.


    Circumstances had changed for the three friends. Alicent had be a stepmother, and Jeyne had seduced Rhaegar. Laena was married to Daemon, but at least she and Rhaenyra were not entangled in any romantic drama. They were the only good friends left.


    After exchanging pleasantries, they quickly got down to business.


    Laena turned to Rhaegar, her eyes filled with admiration. "Cousin, your attack on the Triarchy has be legendary. I regret fleeing that day."


    Rhaegar, with two dragons and two thousand men, had plundered Lys, burned Myr, and ravaged Tyrosh. The audacity of his actions shocked everyone.


    The three victimized city-states spread word of Rhaegar''s "evil deeds" throughout Essos. Soon, nobles in Westeros also learned of the devastating attacks.


    The Triarchy''s strongholdsy in ruins, and the Battle of the Stepstones hade to an end. Rhaegar Targaryen''s name would be recorded in the annals of history on both continents for generations toe.


    Rhaegar smiled at Laena''s praise, but his tone was dismissive. "It doesn''t matter. My father didn''t support me, and neither did House Vryon."


    Rhaenyra and Laena exchanged nces, sensing the underlying frustration in his words.


    "Rhaegar..." Rhaenyra admonished gently, squeezing his hand. This kind of talk was fine in private, but there was no need for Laena to hear it.


    Rhaegar winked at her and changed the subject. "What''s this about ships in the Gullet?"


    "Is it Robb and his men?" Rhaegar asked.


    Laena shook her head. "It''s more than that. There were a dozen ships filled with ves. The royal fleet intercepted them."


    She exined that she and her mother had been patrolling the Gullet and the Narrow Sea when they encountered the ships. The decks were filled with ves armed with crude weapons. If not for their tattered clothes, she might have mistaken them for pirates.


    The King''s fleet had arrived in time to intercept the ve ships, resulting in a brief skirmish.


    Rhaegar was taken aback. "It seems the liberated ves havee to us."


    His mood lifted. He needed those ves��not only were they not beholden to other lords, but they were also loyal and hardworking. The most loyalborers were those who were given equal rights.


    "I''ll go check it out. You two talk," Rhaegar said, striding out of the castle with renewed vigor.


    "Roar!" Cannibal��s dragon roar echoed as it hovered above the castle. Vhagar, perched on the cliff, eyed the pitch-ck dragon coldly.


    Recognizing his opponent, Vhagar growled but turned away to lie down, too old to continue the fight.


    Rhaegar stepped into view of the dragons. Cannibalnded cautiously before the castle gate, eyeing Vhagar warily. The two dragons acknowledged each other, setting aside their grudges.


    Rhaegar mounted Cannibal, and the dragon flew out over Dragonstone Ind.


    ...


    From Dragonstone Ind, they flew over neighboring Driftmark and arrived at the Gullet, a narrow strait between Driftmark and the tip of the Sharp Point.


    More than twentyrge ships were anchored outside the channel, hesitant to approach. Within the channel, five warships were lined up, their soldiers'' bows drawn and ready.


    "Roar!" Cannibal descended like a meteor, its roar reverberating through the strait.


    "Prince Rhaegar! The Breaker of Shackles!"


    As soon as they saw Cannibal, the men on the ships recognized Rhaegar and shouted with joy. The ves on therge ships fell to their knees in reverence, with their chains broken by Rhaegar and their desire for freedom rekindled. Following Rhaegar''smand, they had sailed to Westeros, yearning for eptance and the chance to live in peace.


    "Gentlemen, I��m here to escort you into ckwater Bay," Rhaegar called out.


    He guided Cannibal over the royal fleet. At the forefront of one of the battleships stood a young man with ck hair, surrounded by soldiers.


    Rhaegar peered down and identified him, "Jon Baratheon? You are Jon Baratheon, right?"


    Jon, dressed in thick armor, looked up and confirmed, "It is I, Prince."


    Rhaegar, in high spirits, overlooked Jon''s past offenses. "Make way through the Gullet. These are my men and followers."


    "Prince, forgive me, but I cannotply!" Jon''s expression was stern. "The King has decreed that no cargo or merchant ships are allowed into ckwater Bay, except for our warships."


    This was Viserys�� precautionary measure to secure the channel and prevent any unwanted elements from entering.


    Rhaegar frowned, understanding the reasoning but disliking Jon��s rigid stance. After a moment��s thought, he offered, "I will vouch for them. Let them through."


    Jon remained resolute. "No, Prince, I cannot."


    Rhaegar was taken aback. "My guarantee isn��t enough?"


    "The King��s orders are explicit, Prince. I cannot disobey."


    Jon stood firm, his eyes cold.


    Rhaegar, instead of getting angry, chuckled and pped. "Interesting. You''re deliberately making this difficult for me."


    Few would dare to defy Rhaegar, considering his identity and the dragon hemanded. If Jon continued to block the way, it seemed intentional.


    Cannibal lowered its altitude, and Rhaegar issued an ultimatum. "My men are going in. Will you let them pass, or not?"


    Jon��s face paled slightly, and he swallowed hard as he felt the dragon��s breath hot on his face.


    A white-bearded, rotund old man hurried over, whispering urgently into Jon��s ear, "Even Borros wouldn''t dare defy the heir to the throne. You should retreat quickly."


    Rhaegar fixed a cold gaze on the old man. "Who are you?"


    The old man quivered, his voice trembling, "Reporting to the Prince, I am Lord Bar Emmon of Sharp Point."


    Sharp Point is the seat of House Bar Emmon in the crownds.


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as he recognized the name. He recalled the Bar Emmon House history:


    During the reign of Maegor I, they were among the few nobles who supported him. After Maegor��s death, they retreated to Sharp Point. Later, under King Jaehaerys I, the family sought pardon and realigned with the crown. During the Great Council of 101 AC, they had supported Princess Rhaenys�� im to the throne.


    Rhaegar knew the Bar Emmon House had a reputation for being opportunistic. They were close allies of House Baratheon in the Stornds and loyal to Rhaenys.


    He realized that Jon Baratheon''s defiance was likely influenced by this old lord. However, Rhaegar��s eyes shed with a steely resolve, and he dismissed the old man with a curt nod.


    Jon, after listening to Lord Bar Emmon''s advice, lowered his head and shouted, "Yes, the fleet will withdraw now!"


    Rhaegar lifted his chin, saying nothing, as Jon ordered the ships on either side to pull back. Only Jon''s warship remained, slowly navigating towards the Sharp Point.


    Just then, Rhaegar''s voice cut through the air, "It''s toote to retreat now!"


    Jon, startled, looked up.


    Rhaegar��s face was stony, his lips barely moving as hemanded, "Dracarys!"

 Chapter 229: Honor and Freedom

    Chapter 229: Honor and Freedom


    A piercing dragon roar echoed through the skies, growing louder as it approached. It was not Cannibal, but Rhaenyra, arriving on her dragon, Syrax, with Laena following on Vhagar.


    Rhaegar nced at them briefly before turning his attention back to the matter at hand.


    "Dracarys!" hemanded.


    In response, Cannibal unleashed a torrent of dragonme.


    "Ah!... No!"


    Jon, who had been defiant moments ago, now screamed in panic, his confidence evaporating in the face of the oing dragonfire. Lord Bar Emmon, terrified, wet himself and tried to leap off the ship. But the dragon''s mes were swift and inescapable.


    The green dragonfire engulfed the front of the ship, consuming it in a ze that quickly spread. Jon, Lord Bar Emmon, and the soldiers who had dared to defy Rhaegar were soon enveloped in the mes, their screams fading as they sumbed to the mes.


    Soldiers in the cabin scrambled to escape, leaping into the sea in a desperate attempt to avoid the fire, falling into the water like panicked dumplings.


    Cannibal growled lowly, its cold eyes scanning the water for any survivors."Enough, Cannibal," Rhaegar said calmly, halting the dragon��s intent to hunt down the remaining soldiers. He only wanted to punish those who had directly defied him.


    yingmon soldiers did not demonstrate his majesty, and Rhaenyra built the royal fleet at the expense of the taxes on Dragonstone.


    But Jon has disrespected him on several asions, and his words and behavior have been rude.


    Considering his family name and his friendship with an opportunistic man like the Lord Bar Emmon, one can only imagine how unreliable he is as amander.


    News of Rhaegar''s defeat of the Triarchy has just spread across the continents, and if he is looking for trouble at this time, it is no different than asking for death.


    Then let him have his way.


    Rhaenyra, witnessing the destruction, called out, "Rhaegar, what happened?"


    Unless she was mistaken, the Governor of the Navy and the Lord of Sharp Point were on board.


    Rhaegar, his expression stoic, replied, "The former governor of the fleet is dead. You''ll need to appoint a new one, someone loyal and obedient."


    Rhaenyra paused, recalling thest time Jon had blocked and offended Rhaegar. She knew how deeply Rhaegar resented Jon''s insubordination.


    "What''s the point of having a fleet that you pay for if it doesn''t listen to you?" Rhaegar continued.


    The King��s fleet was an elite force built at great expense, and Rhaegar had hoped tomand it during his campaign against the Triarchy. Instead, his father had stripped him of this resource with a single decree. Rhaenyra, having funded the fleet��s construction, found herself powerless to aid him when he needed it most.


    So what''s the point of keeping it? To patrol the waters and to intercept the heir to the throne?


    Rhaenyra, taking in her brother''s words, nodded solemnly. "I understand. I will select a new Navy Commander."


    She had organized the royal fleet to strengthen the defenses of Dragonstone Ind. Jon''s tant disregard for her orders was uneptable.


    In the feudal system of Westeros, the loyalty of bannermen was paramount. A bannerman��s allegiance was to their liege lord, and any insubordination was intolerable. Jon��s disobedience had sealed his fate.


    Reflecting on the loyalty disyed by Houses ckwood and Bracken in the Rivends, where their bannermen stood firm against Riverrun��s forces, Rhaenyra realized the importance of unwavering loyalty. In the Game of Thrones, vition of the Oath of Allegiance was punishable by death.


    Seeing Rhaenyra''s understanding, Rhaegar decided against offering furtherfort. He knew his sister was stronger than she appeared.


    "Cannibal, take me to the fleet," Rhaegarmanded.


    The Cannibal��s eyes flicked over Syrax and Vhagar before it spread its wings and soared into the sky.


    As soon as Cannibal departed, Laena guided Vhagar closer to Rhaenyra.


    Noticing Rhaenyra''s puzzled expression, Laena exined, "Jon and Borros are cousins and Borros received a lesson from Rhaegar."


    She added, "I''m sure my best friend understands what I''m saying, right?"


    To Laena, Rhaegar��s approach may seem harsh, but it was necessary. And it��s certainly more reasonable than her husband, Daemon''s methods.


    Laena��s words stung, highlighting a painful truth. Rhaenyra clenched her fists, silently cursing her poor judgment in choosing Jon.


    ...


    Rhaegar approached the fleet and surveyed the scene. There were two dozen ships in all.


    Robb and his men had returned safely,den with treasure plundered from Lys.


    Ten were warships, while the remaining dozen wererge ships filled with escaped ves from Lys and Myr.


    Upon seeing Rhaegar, the freed ves bowed and sang his praises.


    Rhaegar''s attention was drawn to a medium-sized sailing ship at the rear of the fleet.


    Swoosh...


    Hundreds of Unsullied in spiked helmets and ck armor stood in perfect formation, their expressions as lifeless as carved stone statues.


    Rhaegar was puzzled. He had already eliminated the Tyrosh Unsullied. Where had these Unsulliede from? And why were they on a boat?


    The lead Unsullied dropped to one knee, removed his spiked helmet, and spoke in a hushed tone: "Great Targaryen liberator, the Breaker of Shackles...". He paused, unsure how to continue. Begging to be taken in, enved, or freed��it was a difficult concept for the Unsullied with their weak sense of self to rationalize.


    Swish...


    The rest of the Unsullied knelt in unison, their heads bowed low, following theirmander''s lead. An atmosphere of nervousness and apprehension spread out.


    Rhaegar could see their struggle. They seemed to seek freedom but had nowhere to go, seeking eptance yet fearing very.


    "Where did youe from, and what do you want?" Rhaegar asked.


    The Unsulliedmander''s face stiffened, and he hesitated before exining. They had been bought in Astapor by the Rogare. When the House Rogare was destroyed in the Doom of Lys, they lost their masters. Fearing the brutality of Astapor''s ve masters, they heard of Rhaegar''s liberation of the ves and came to him seeking refuge.


    Rhaegar''s eyes flickered with realization. The destruction of House Rogare and the burning of Lys had triggered the arrival of these Unsullied. He asked, "Where are your whips?"


    He knew the Unsullied only obeyed the master who held the whip.


    The Unsullied officer''s eyes shed with worry as he replied, "The whips were buried in the ruins along with our buyers."


    "Do you still wish to follow the whip''smands?" Rhaegar pursued.


    The Unsullied officer froze and fell silent, unable to respond.


    The past few days of being free from the control of the buyers and crossing the Narrow Sea by ship from Lys had been the most reassuring for him and all the Unsullied.


    Their journey had been fueled by a desire to break the bonds of very and serve a worthy master.


    Seeing the Unsulliedmander''s silence, Rhaegar understood. He said solemnly, "Since you do not wish to be enved by the whip, then serve me. Fight for glory and die for freedom!"


    "Roar--"


    The Cannibal roared on cue, and green dragonfire gushed out, creating a curtain of mes.


    Beneath the fiery disy, the Unsullied''s eyes glowed with newfound hope and determination.


    Above the dragonfire, Rhaegar rode the dragon, looking down upon the sky and sea like a true god of the world.


    Swish, swish...


    The Unsullied rose one after another, their spears striking their shields, eyes burning with fervor as they looked up at the silver-haired prince.


    He promised them freedom, and they were willing to serve him. Honor or disgrace, they would follow him to the end.


    A smile curled on Rhaegar''s lips as he directed the Cannibal to hover in a circle, then flew towards ckwater Bay, his voice booming: "Return to King''s Landing!"


    "Roar!"


    The dragon''s roar echoed loud and clear.


    ...


    Red Keep, Dungeon


    Tread...


    A burst of footsteps echoed through the depths of the dungeon. The prisoners, lying on their stomachs at the cell doors, stared at the approaching figure, too fearful to make a sound.


    "Ahem..."


    Viserys coughed twice, an unnatural flush appearing on his pale face, his breathing slightlybored.


    "Your Grace, the stench of the dungeon is not conducive to your recovery," Erryk advised, assisting the king in his duty.


    Grand Maester Mellos had exined that the King was overly worried and exhausted and needed to clear his mind and rest.


    Viserys used a handkerchief to cover his mouth and nose, his voice slightly gasping, "Don''t listen to Mellos. The Grand Maester loves to raise all kinds of rmist talk."


    Erryk bowed his head, holding a torch for illumination. The king and the knight walked to a cell deep in the dungeon.


    As they reached the damp stone cell, which was still clean and tidy, Viserys'' eyes grew sad. He gasped, "Daemon, your brother is here. Why don''t youe to greet him?"


    Inside the cell, a figurey on a wooden bed, his head covered by a thin nket. Hearing Viserys'' call, he did nothing.


    "Your Grace," Erryk asked, "should we wake him?"


    Viserys waved his hand faintly. "Daemon, don''t make me say it again!"


    Finally, the prisoner responded. "s, it''s time for another lesson!"


    With one hand, Daemon lifted the nket and sat up straight, mutteringints. His stay in the cell had been quitefortable. He had food and drink and spent much of his time sleeping. There were only two things he disliked: theck of wine and women, and his brother''s constant scolding.


    Viserys looked at him, his eyes softening. "I won''t scold you this time. Don''t be ungrateful."


    He had always scolded Daemon for his own good, hoping he would change his ways.


    "So, what would you like to talk about, Your Grace?" Daemon stepped off the wooden bed and staggered towards the bars. It had been so long since he''d been active that his body felt rusty.


    As he got closer, Daemon looked Viserys up and down, frowning. There was a sense of weakness in his brother''s body. The smell of medicine stood out from the stench of the dungeon even two to three meters away.


    "Brother, are you sick?" Daemon''s expression stiffened as he found afortable angle to lean against the iron fence. Thest time Viserys had visited him, he''d done nothing but scold him and tell him his wounds were healing. He should be in pretty good shape.

 Chapter 230: Viserys’ Change of Heart

    Chapter 230: Viserys�� Change of Heart


    Viserys grunted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You still know how to care about me as your brother. I thought your conscience had been eaten by a dog long ago."


    Although he had promised not to scold Daemon, he couldn''t help himself. Seeing that untamed, handsome face made him want to spit.


    Daemon sneered, ustomed to the scolding. He knew better than to ask too many questions.


    "So, what do you want?" Daemon grumbled.


    "A chat about family, duty, and kingdom," Viserys replied, his voice muffled.


    Daemon shook his head andughed. "You think you''re a Tully, reciting the family motto?"


    "I don''t have the energy to teach you, Daemon," Viserys said coldly. He muttered to himself, "I''m in a dilema. There''s chaos everywhere, and I''m at odds with Rhaegar."


    He had been bedridden for the past two days and had yet to learn of Rhaegar''s surprise attack on the Triarchy. In the bottom of his heart, he was still worried about the safety of his eldest son, the war on the Stepstones, and the rebellion in the Rivends.


    Daemon sat on the ground, listening quietly to his brother''s words. After a while, Viserys began to cough, cutting his speech short.Daemon frowned, deep in thought about Rhaegar''s strategy. Hearing about the chaos in the Rivends, his expression grew more serious and his eyes darkened.


    The Brackens had attacked the army of Riverrun at night, killing the eldest son of Lord Tully. This act was tantamount to rebellion.


    "What do you think I should do?" Viserys asked, suppressing another cough. He wanted to hear Daemon''s opinion.


    Looking into his brother''s sincere eyes, Daemon wanted to refuse but couldn''t bring himself to. He murmured, "My nephew is a dangerous man. You don''t have to worry about him. If the attack seeds, everyone will be happy. If it fails, we will continue with the Battle of the Stepstones."


    The continent of Essos is vast, with manypeting forces. The strongest, the Dothraki, never cross the sea. The city-states of ver''s Bay are isted, and the nine free cities are in constant conflict. If the dragon can burn the cities of the Triarchy, the War of the Stepstones will end. Even if it fails, the status quo will be maintained.


    Viserys thought hard, his voice hoarse. "The ckwoods are stationed outside Riverrun, the Brackens are besieging Harrenhal, and I have deployed knights from the Crownds and the Vale."


    "Having defeated the two houses, what would you do with them?" Daemon, always perceptive, hit the key point.


    Kindness, or cowardice. That has always been his brother w, slowly disintegrating his authority.


    Viserys hesitated for a moment before saying, "Execute the Lords of both houses, and rece them with more loyal and intelligent members."


    Daemon lowered his head and smiled. "Oh, indeed," he murmured, satisfied that his brother still held the resolve to punish the instigators.


    "What do you think should be done?" Viserys asked rhetorically.


    Without hesitation, Daemon responded coldly, "I would have Caraxes descend on Raventree Hall and Stone Hedge to purge the rebel houses."


    Raventree Hall belonged to the ckwoods, and Stone Hedge to the Brackens. These towns, one to the north and one to the south, sandwiched Riverrun in the middle.


    This time Viserys didn''t scold Daemon for his cruelty, but fell silent, aware that his own leniency had caused problems. He knew Daemon''s n was too brutal, but he struggled to find apromise.


    Seeing his brother''s silence, Daemon continued, "Brother, if your hand were strong enough, there would be no rebellion."


    Viserys nced at him, his eyes t.


    "As I said, it''s never been outside forces that have hurt your power; it''s always been you."


    Daemon shrugged. "You are too weak, brother."


    Viserys'' rule had been characterized by banquets and tournaments, always listening to anyone with a ttering demeanor. Such a character didn''t inspire loyalty.


    "You are the only one who dares to be so arrogant with me," Viserys said with a hint of amusement. "If I were as cruel as Maegor, you wouldn''t have the chance to talk to me in jail."


    He covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief, turning to walk out of the dungeon. Daemon, like a mirror, always reflected his ws.


    This conversation had given him some inspiration.


    ...


    The next day, the sun zed high in the sky, casting a sweltering heat over King''s Landing. More than twentyrge ships sailed through ckwater Bay and anchored in the city''s bustling harbor.


    Five hundred Dragonkeepers disembarked, carrying the treasures back to the Dragonpit. The rest of the Dragonkeepers, along with members of the Second Sons, formed a guard detail, leading the ves who had defected southward along the ckwater River.


    They headed towards the tournament grounds outside the King''s Gate. The ves, numbering between 5,000 and 6,000, were too numerous to enter the city, so temporary arrangements were made for them outside the walls.


    In the Red Keep, Rhaegar and Rhaenyra returned together. Before they could even change their clothes, a maid hurriedly approached them with a message from the King.


    "Father wants to see you. Don''t make him angry," Rhaenyra advised, straightening Rhaegar''s cor with a patient smile.


    Rhaegar''s attack on the Kingdom of the Three Daughters was not supported by their father, and Rhaenyra feared a confrontation between them.


    "Don''t worry, Father is as open-minded as I am," Rhaegar said, holding her hand with a hopeful look in his eyes. "Promise me you''ll be at peace too."


    Rhaenyra''s eyes sparkled with a mischievous smile. "Don''t worry, I''m just as open-minded as you are," she replied. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his forehead.


    Rhaegar returned the embrace, his youthful face showing a mix of embarrassment and affection, like a child admitting a mistake. "I''m sorry, sister," he murmured.


    "Don''t be mushy," Rhaenyra teased, pushing him away yfully. She took his hand and led him towards their father''s chambers.


    ...


    The King''s Bedchamber


    Rhaegar and Rhaenyra arrived at the door, where the brothers Erryk and Arryk stood guard.


    "Princess, Prince," the Cargyll brothers greeted them respectfully, their expressions solemn.


    "Open the door. I heard Father is unwell," Rhaenyramanded gently, her demeanor elegant and noble.


    "Yes, Princess," Erryk responded, opening the door himself.


    The siblings walked through the parlor, which was as orderly as ever, and headed towards the inner bedroom. Lifting the beaded curtain, they entered a room upied by several figures.


    Viserys sat on the bed, a thin quilt draped over his knees, a faint smile on his face. Beside him, Alicent, dressed in green, gently blew on a bowl of soup before feeding it to her husband. Otto, the Master of Civil Affairs, stood at the foot of the bed, his face calm as he observed the scene. Grand Maester Mellos fiddled with his medical box, having justpleted an examination of the King. Lastly, Jeyne stood in a slender dress, holding a piece of parchment and reciting the news of the burning of the Triarchy.


    The sound of the beaded curtain rustling drew everyone''s attention. Viserys turned his head, his expression one of relief. "Rhaegar, I heard about your victory," he said, a great weight seeming to lift from his heart.


    "Father," Rhaegar replied with a smile, "The Battle of Stepstones ising to an end." Seeing the worry and fatigue in his father''s eyes, he decided to bury his dissatisfaction.


    Jeyne, still holding the letter, smiled warmly. "Rhaegar, congrattions."


    Rhaegar nodded in acknowledgment but remained silent, he admitted his infidelity directly. Perhaps it was the Targaryens bold nature, or simply Fate.


    But he didn''t want to upset Rhaenyra, who was standing close by with a still-settled heart.


    "Father, are you feeling better?" Rhaenyra asked, moving quickly to the bedside.


    Viserys nced at his daughter, then at Jeyne, who smiled serenely. A flicker of curiosity crossed his eyes. He shifted his gaze to his eldest son and gave him a cryptic look.


    "What is it, boy?" he asked.


    Rhaegar winced, surprised at his father''s perceptiveness.


    Viserys tilted his head slightly, epting another spoonful of soup from Alicent. A hint of arrogance flickered in his eyes. He had frequented every brothel in King''s Landing as a youth and had met many nobledies before his marriage. He recognized such a situation at once.


    A frown creased Rhaegar''s forehead as he lowered his head helplessly. His mistakes went beyond mere dalliances with prostitutes or noblewomen; he hadmitted a serious breach of principle.


    Viserys'' expression darkened slightly, sensing the gravity of the situation.


    "Father, let me feed you," Rhaenyra interjected, stepping forward and taking the soup from Alicent with a forced smile. She scooped up a spoonful without blowing on it and pushed it into her father''s mouth.


    Viserys winced at the hot spoon and forced a smile as he swallowed. Fortunately, the Targaryens were used to heat.


    Jeyne noticed Rhaenyra''s displeasure and silently bowed her head, sensing the tension.


    The room fell into an uneasy silence.


    After what seemed an eternity, Viserys, having drunk his fill of hot soup, gently stopped feeding his daughter. He smiled bitterly, "You all go out first. I need to speak to Rhaegar alone."


    Rhaenyra raised her eyebrows, unmoved.


    "Serious business," Viserys insisted.


    Rhaenyra relented and put down her porcin bowl. "You two have a nice chat."


    Alicent added, "Viserys, the problems will be solved one at a time. Try to stay positive."


    Otto and Mellos, eyes downcast, left the bedroom first, followed by Rhaenyra, who gave Rhaegar a meaningful look before leaving.


    Alicent winked at Jeyne, who nodded and bowed to Viserys before lifting the beaded curtain to leave. With everyone gone, the room seemed to cool down.


    "Father, what is it?" Rhaegar asked, relieved, sitting on the edge of the bed and smiling softly.


    The tension from Rhaenyra''s presence had been considerable. The others- Alicent, Otto, Mellos - were all part of the Oldtown forces. Besides Rhaenyra, only Jeyne was his true ally.


    Viserys'' eyes were filled with aplex mix of emotions. "The Rivends are in revolt. But I sense you''re dealing with your own troubles and need to make a choice."


    Emotional turmoil can be devastating. Many gifted individuals have been undone by personal setbacks. Viserys didn''t want that for his most prized heir.


    Rhaegar subconsciously murmured, "I choose Rhaenyra."


    "Good," Viserys replied, smiling again. "It''s important to know what you want."


    Then he got down to business. "The Bracken House in the Rivends is rebelling, besieging Harrenhal..."

 Chapter 231: The Appearance of Wildfire

    Chapter 231: The Appearance of Wildfire


    Viserys gave a brief ount of the situation in the Rivends. The region was in chaos: the Brackens had rebelled, and the farmers were in turmoil. Of Old Tully''s three sons, only the eldest had shown anypetence, but he had been killed in a night attack by the Brackens.


    The other two were either boorish fools or reckless men with no sense. The Tully House was expected to decline in theing decades.


    Rhaegar frowned as he listened. The nobles of Westeros had grown ustomed to his father''s perceived weakness, emboldening them to rebel openly. Lord Lyonel had been wounded, and Harwin had retreated to Harrenhal, making the situation more difficult than anticipated.


    Old Tully had followed the rebels to Harrenhal, leaving Riverrun leaderless. The Rivends, divided by the Trident River, suffered from poor transportation and weak connections between the nobles, leading to widespread indifference to the Tullys'' rule. It was the most disorderly of the Seven Kingdoms.


    Rhaegar took his father''s hand, looking at him with determination. "Do you want me to go and relieve Harrenhal of its siege?" With the speed of Cannibal, he could fly there and back within an hour. A few bursts of Dragonfire would quickly scatter the rebels.


    Viserys'' eyes shed with a mixture of shame and pride. He sped his eldest son''s hand with both of his own, his voice thick with emotion. "Rest for the night first. You''ve just returned to King''s Landing; you need a peaceful sleep."


    After Rhaegar''s decisive action against the Triarchy, Viserys fully trusted his son''s abilities. Unlike the rugged terrain of the Stepstones, the open ins of the Rivends offered no hiding ces for rebels. There, dragons were invincible.


    Rhaegar nodded. "Okay, tomorrow I will make a trip to the Rivends. I''ll deal with the Stepstones when I return."


    The stronghold of the Triarchy had been reduced to ashes. The mercenaries on the Stepstones were now nothing more than scattered forces, easily swept aside....


    After leaving the chambers, Rhaegar lifted his eyes to see a ck-d figure waiting at the corner of the corridor.


    "Rhaenyra, are you still here?" Rhaegar approached her.


    Rhaenyra stood with her back to him, her arms crossed over her chest.


    Rhaegar, unaware of the tension, asked with a smile, "Waiting for me?"


    Swish-


    A sh of cold steel cut through the air, aimed directly at Rhaegar''s vital point.


    In an instant, Rhaegar''s face stiffened and cold sweat broke out on his forehead.


    "Of course I''m waiting for you. If it wasn''t me, it would be someone else," Rhaenyra said with a grin, pressing the dagger to his throat while she stroked the side of his face with her other hand.


    "Sister, calm down," Rhaegar said, his pupils dting in fear.


    Rhaenyra leaned closer, her eyes cold and calcting. "You''re here, but you haven''t had time to finish carving your runes, have you?"


    She knew that Rhaegar possessed a mysterious power through runes. The upper half of his body was covered in bronze runes that turned to green scales when attacked, but the lower half remained unfinished.


    "Rhaenyra..." Rhaegar began, his voice a mixture of panic and determination.


    After a brief moment of fear, he regained hisposure. He knew she wouldn''t hurt him; she was using this as an opportunity to teach him a lesson.


    As expected, Rhaenyra withdrew the dagger slightly, no longer pressing it against his skin. Just as Rhaegar began to rx, the cold de pressed against his face again.


    "This dagger is for Jeyne," Rhaenyra said coldly.


    Rhaegar understood. She was pushing him, making him face his mistakes.


    "Rhaegar, you grew up under my care. I know everything about you," Rhaenyra continued, pressing the dagger lightly against his nose. Greenish scales appeared, blocking the de.


    The dagger slid down, revealing more green scales. Rhaenyra��s eyes were calm as she said, "Remember your promise. Don��t make me remind you."


    Rhaegar gripped the dagger and replied solemnly, "Don''t worry, my me will never go out."


    With that, he grabbed the dagger and discarded it, then bent down and lifted Rhaenyra onto his shoulders.


    "Rhaegar..." Rhaenyra eximed in surprise, patting his back as the frostiness in her eyes melted away.


    ...


    The next day, the sun was high in the sky, casting thick, golden rays over King''s Landing.


    "Roar��"


    A pitch-ck dragon soared out of the Dragonpit, its shadow shing across the sky. The civilians on Silk Street saw it most clearly as it headed towards the Rivends.


    At the old city gates, five hundred Second Sons, four hundred Unsullied, and three hundred Dragonkeepers stood in formation.


    Rumble, rumble, rumble��


    A four-wheeled carriage approached slowly, nked by a hundred Vale knights d in iron armor.


    Inside the carriage, Rhaenyra and Jeyne sat opposite each other��one in a ck strapless dress, the other in a long white gown. The atmosphere was tense and silent.


    Jeyne bowed her head and spoke first, "Rhaenyra, I''m sorry."


    "Apologies don''t rece justice," Rhaenyra replied, crossing one leg and tapping her fingers on the back of her hand.


    Jeyne took a deep breath and whispered, "I''ll return to the Vale and nevere back to King''s Landing."


    "Make sure you do," Rhaenyra said in a cold, clear voice.


    Jeyne forced a smile, "I actually have a lot to say to you."


    "If you say one more word, you won''t be returning to the Vale at all," Rhaenyra snapped, her face turning icy.


    The conversation ended abruptly.


    Rhaenyra stepped out of the carriage, her snow-white calves disappearing under her ck skirt. The carriage then left the city gates, heading towards the Vale. Three hundred Dragonkeepers followed, joining the knights as an escort.


    The Second Sons and the Unsullied split into two groups, each heading out of the city gates to join the prince in the Rivends.


    Rhaenyra watched the carriage and procession disappear from view.


    "Princess, let''s return to the Red Keep," said Steffon Darklyn, the Kingsguard.


    Rhaenyra touched the Valyrian steel ne around her neck and smiled, "No, I''m going to the Dragonpit."


    "Yes, Princess," Steffon responded, escorting her without question.


    Feeling the cool three dragon-head pendants, Rhaenyra''s mind settled, and she found herself missing Rhaegar.


    "I think I''ll take a trip to the Rivends," she decided, seeking to distance herself from the recent confrontation with Jeyne.


    ...


    The Rivends, Harrenhal


    Summer brought scorching heat, and the castle grounds of Harrenhal were blistering.


    "Pour on the oil, quickly!"


    "Prepare the catapults!"


    Outside the towering thick walls, thousands of peasants in rough cloth and linen surrounded the castle, forming a fierce and determined crowd. Most wielded makeshift weapons��manure forks and hoes, their equipment rudimentary at best.


    At the forefront, tenrge trebuchets were being positioned. Operated by hundreds of well-equipped soldiers in armor, each bearing a red stallion upon a golden escutcheon on brown��the emblem of House Bracken. Mixed among them were banners of other minor nobles, bannermen of House Bracken.


    The siege of Harrenhal was a rebellion led by the Bracken House, with peasant support.


    Asmanders barked orders, soldiers carefully loaded barrels into trebuchets.


    "Release!"


    At themand, the trebuchetsunched their loads. The barrels arced over the towering walls, crashing into Harrenhal''s interior.


    Rumble...


    The barrels shattered, releasing green mes that spread rapidly.


    The trebuchets were swiftly reloaded.


    "Release!"


    Barrel after barrel was hurled into Harrenhal. Some crashed against the city walls, while others flew farther,nding in the godswood at the edge of the walls. The green mes clung to the stones and continued to burn fiercely, requiring no additional fuel. The forest burst into mes almost instantly.


    Harrenhal was once thergest and most majestic castle in Westeros, built on the northern shore of the continent''srgest indke, the God''s Eye.


    Its thick and steep walls stood like cliffs, and the gatehouse alone was asrge as most main castles. Five towers loomed within Harrenhal: the Tower of Dread, the Widow''s Tower, the Wailing Tower, the Tower of Ghosts, and the Kingspyre Tower.


    Since the burning by Balerion the ck Dread, none of the towers remained intact. They were twisted, their stones cracked and ckened ruins now stood where grand designs once existed.


    A dark atmosphere prevailed over the ruins of Harrenhal, as the green mes of rebellion consumed its ancient stones.


    Boom--


    More barrels were hurled over the walls, and the green mes grew increasingly intense. Although the five towers remained untouched, they were now surrounded by fire.


    Inside the city, fewer than 2,000 guards scrambled to defend Harrenhal. They climbed the walls andunched counterattacks with bows and arrows against the rebels below. However, the spreading wildfire was overwhelming, and the rear of the city was gradually consumed by mes.


    "Put out the fire! The green fire is spreading to the towers!"


    "Everyone, put out the fire!"


    Under the clear sky, green mes raged in the dimly lit Harrenhal. Smoke and screams filled the air, creating a mournful symphony.


    "Ah! Don''t touch the green fire!"


    "It''s burning! It can''t be put out!"


    Soldiers and servants tried to extinguish the mes, but the green fire clung to their bodies and burned even more fiercely when water was poured on it.


    The steward of Harrenhal recognized the wildfire, an alchemical product known for its extreme mmability and adhesiveness. It was as powerful as dragonfire and could explode on contact. Once banned from the Citadel, it now wreaked havoc.


    On the city tower, Harwin, d in armor and wielding a sword, watched anxiously. He was well aware of the horrors of the wildfire. In less than half an hour, it had spread across half of Harrenhal. At this rate, they would be burned alive before the rebels could breach the city gates.


    Outside the city, the rebels began their assault. Braving a hail of arrows, they carrieddders and charged the walls.


    "Surround the east gate! Don''t let the Strongs escape!"


    A Brackenmander gave the order, directing the chaotic masses to surround Harrenhalpletely.


    Inside, Harwin, filled with fear and anger, drew his sword and bellowed, "Use the rolling logs and oil! Do not let the rebels climb the walls!"


    Regret weighed heavily on his heart. The long peace had dulled the vignce of House Strong. Theycked war reserves, and their soldiers were poorly equipped. The battlements, once armed with stone throwers, were now defenseless due to decay


    If the defenses had been maintained, the few stone throwers below wouldn''t have had a chance to show off. The rebels would have set themselves aze.


    A guard ran up in a panic. "My lord, the fire in the godswood is too big! We can''t control it!"


    The situation was dire. The wildfire was spreading uncontrobly, driven by the wind and inching ever closer to the towers. Many servants had already perished in their attempts to fight the mes.

 Chapter 232: The Arrival of Cannibal

    Chapter 232: The Arrival of Cannibal


    Surveying the chaos below, Harwin found himself at a dead end. With too few men and the ferocity of the wildfire, the situation seemed dire. After a moment of intense deliberation, he pounded his fist against the battlements and gritted his teeth.


    "Withdraw 500 men to fight the fire and dig a moat to separate the towers from the Godswood forest," he ordered, knowing it was their best chance.


    "Yes, my lord."


    The soldiers scrambled to pass on the orders. Harwin, drenched in sweat from the intense heat, felt like he was boiling alive.


    ...


    Inside Kingspyre Tower


    Grover Tully, his hair half-white and his face gaunt, paced anxiously. His clouded eyes kept darting to the window. As Lord Paramount of the Trident and Lord of Riverrun, the power of the Tully family rested on his shoulders.


    But because of his mediocrity and stubbornness, their reputation had plummeted. Now he found himself besieged by his own bannermen, cowering in the castle.


    "Damn Brackens, I''ll hang them all!" he cursed, his trembling hands betraying his fear.From the lord''s bedroom, he could clearly see the green mes ravaging the city. Even inside, the heat was suffocating.


    Knock, knock...


    A mature woman''s voice called from behind the door, "Lord Tully, I''vee to give Lord Lyonel his medicine."


    Grover turned, his gaze falling on therge solid wood bed where Lyonely. Pale and sweating, Lyonel was unconscious, his right arm bandaged and his rounded stomach spasming asionally. He had been badly injured during the retreat, with a broken right arm, a broken left calf, and two broken ribs.


    "Goddamn Brackens, they all deserve to die!" Grover muttered, still seething from the night''s attack that had imed his eldest son.


    "Lord Tully, if you don''t answer, I''ming in."


    The knocking continued, impatience growing in the woman''s voice. Grover, furious, pointed at the door and shouted, "Get out of here, bastard! Lyonel won''t take the medicine you bring."


    Outside, Aly Rivers'' colorful face darkened, her green eyes cold. She held a bowl of soup, her ample figure tense with frustration. "Old fool with no vision," she muttered, turning to leave.


    The surname of bastards varies from ce to ce, In the Rivends, this surname is "Rivers".


    Inside, Grover''s anger quickly subsided as he approached Lyonel''s bedside. "You''re not good enough, to even have such a rude bastard daughter!" he spat.


    Rumors swirled in Harrenhal that Aly Rivers might be Lyonel��s illegitimate daughter or her mother may be the nurse of Harwin and Larys.


    Regardless of her identity, Grover detested the green-eyed woman. The Maester had said Lyonel should wake in a few days after taking her medicine, but after four or five days, he was still feverish and delirious. Grover, suspicious, had stopped allowing Lyonel to take her medicine.


    Boom!


    A thunderous crash echoed through Harrenhal.


    "The corridor is on fire,e and put it out!"


    "Water''s not working, use sand!"


    Grover''s heart pounded, his hands trembling more violently. Outside, the wildfire raged uncontrobly. The veranda overlooked a barn stocked with hay, always kept closed and poorly ventted. As the wildfire breached the barn walls, the trapped gases exploded, and burning hay flew everywhere.


    ...


    The City Wall


    The people, driven by desperation and rage, swarmed the city walls withdders. Guards threw down rolling logs and poured boiling oil, temporarily halting their advance. Yet, more kepting, undeterred by the carnage.


    Harwin stood on the battlements, his voice raw from shouting orders. He was caught in a dire predicament, struggling to orchestrate the city''s defense amid the chaos.


    Outside the City Wall


    Near the catapults, a soldier of the Bracken House reported urgently to hismander. "Ser, we''ve used all the wildfire we had."


    "Is there no more?" The beardedmander, greedy, demanded more as his face contorted with frustration.


    "The priests has only prepared so much. The rest of the Wildfire is too unstable to transport," the adjutant exined helplessly.


    "Curse that bunch of useless fools!" The beardedmander spat, his disdain for the so-called sacrifices evident. He nced at the walls of Harrenhal, where the mob was beginning to crest the battlements. "Drop rolling logs and stones! Smash them off the walls!"


    The armymand was ruthless, considering the frenzied mob expendable. Their lives mattered little in the face of his goal.


    "Yes, Ser," the messenger responded, quickly scurrying away to ry the orders.


    ...


    Boom...


    Arge boulder crashed into the battlements, shattering chunks of the wall with each impact. The violent shaking made it nearly impossible for Harwin to stand, his heart pounding in his chest.


    "Kill! Take all the food from the castle!"


    "We''re starving because these nobles have taken over thend!"


    With the castle''s supplies dwindling, the people scaled the walls and attacked the guards in desperation.


    "Hold on! The kingdom''s aid will soon arrive!" Harwin shouted, swinging his longsword at the attackers. Asmander of the City Guard, he was used to dealing with unruly mobs and struck quickly and decisively.


    "He''s the heir of the Strong House! Kill him first!"


    Harwin dispatched several attackers with brutal efficiency, quickly revealing his identity as a noble. Recognizing him, the ruffians were further inmed and rushed toward him.


    Westeros was built on a strict hierarchy. Nobles outranked knights, knights outrankedmoners, andmoners outranked rogues. The few nobles held vastnds and lived in luxury, while the masses struggled to survive.


    When the nobles ruled justly, the people could live decently. But when the nobles abused their power and preyed on the weak, themoners were driven into poverty and despair. This systemic inequality bred deep resentment and frequent rebellions against the oppressive noble ss.


    Harwin, surrounded by the angry mob, shouted, "Get out of my way! My family has always been fair to themoners!"


    The guards rushed to his aid, shing fiercely with the rioters.


    Boom...


    Outside the city, the sthrowers continued their relentless assault. The battlements crumbled under the barrage, sending down debris and knocking down many of the defending guards.


    Gradually, more and more people swarmed up the battlements.


    Rumbling...


    A loud noise echoed from below. Bracken soldiers had moved a siege wagon into position and rammed it against the gates of Harrenhal.


    The city was besieged from within and without, and a wildfire still raged within the walls. Many servants had perished in the fire, buried beneath the copsing buildings.


    Harwin fought fiercely as he retreated, but his shoulder was pierced by a pitchfork, blood pouring from the wound.


    Crisis after crisis, Harwin''s heart pounded with anxiety, and despair began to creep in. The king''s support seemed a distant hope, and it felt as if the Strong House was doomed to fall to the rioters.


    "Fight harder! Give it all you''ve got!" yelled the beardedmander as the siege wagon pounded relentlessly on the gates.


    His mission was clear: breach Harrenhal before nightfall and capture Old Lord Tully and the Hand of the King, Lyonel Strong. The Brackens weren''t crazy enough to rebel without a n; they wanted to use high-profile prisoners as leverage.


    The scene was a nightmare.


    Harrenhal Castle was engulfed in smoke and roaring green fire. The densely packed mob screamed wildly, clinging to the walls like ants.


    From a distance, it looked like a vision of human purgatory.


    Hoo...


    A gust of wind blew away the clouds, revealing a clear blue sky.


    "Roar..."


    A deep, resonant dragon roar echoed across the battlefield.


    A pitch-ck dragon emerged from the clouds and swooped down over Harrenhal.


    "Dracarys!" A young, clear voicemanded.


    "Roar..."


    The dragon slowed its descent, gliding along the city wall and spewing green mes.


    "A dragon! Run!"


    "It burns!..."


    Cannibal revealed its true form, its piercing eyes sweeping over the terrified people on the battlements, all consumed by the dragon''s me.


    As Cannibal glided upwards, the green Dragonfire zed along the city wall like a string of fire.


    "Prince!"


    At the sight of the dragon and its rider, Harwin, who had been cornered, felt a surge of relief and joy and cried out.


    Rhaegar, atop the dragon, his silver hair billowing and his ck robes flowing, looked down.


    "Ser, handle the fires. I''ll deal with the rebels!"


    Leaving the order behind, Rhaegar led Cannibal to the center of the battlefield.


    "Yes, Prince."


    With renewed vigor, Harwin quickly ordered his soldiers, "Five hundred men stay to guard the wall, the rest follow me to put out the fires!"


    Cannibal''s dragonfire had incinerated the rioters on the walls, sending the remaining climbers fleeing in terror.


    With the dragon''s arrival securing the front lines, Harwin turned his attention to saving the family castle.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal hovered over the battlefield, unleashing dragonfire.


    The siege wagons battering the gates were the first to be incinerated, their remains consumed by green mes.


    "Run! It''s a dragon..."


    "Escape while you still can..."


    Cannibal''s massive size and ck wings cast a dark shadow over the battlefield, blocking out the sunlight.


    Rhaegar''s expression remained inscrutable as he surveyed the chaotic army below.


    He soon spotted the Bracken soldiers, their silver-gray armor standing out from the crowd.


    "Cannibal, burn them all!" Rhaegarmanded, his eyes cold.


    "Roar..."


    With a mighty roar, Cannibal lunged at the retreating Bracken soldiers, unleashing dragonfire.


    Boom...


    A pir of green dragonfire fell from the sky, striking with precision.


    In an instant, the Bracken soldiers were reduced to ash, leaving no time to scream.


    "Keep pursuing them!"


    Rhaegar''s gaze swept over the stone battering rams and bloodied rioters, his heart hardening.


    If they dared to rebel, they must be prepared to die.


    Cannibal pped its wings, hovering and raining Dragonfire on the battlefield.


    The rioters below screamed in terror, running like headless flies.


    Amidst the wailing, they were transformed into charred corpses.

 Chapter 233: The Sisters Arrive Riding Dragons

    Chapter 233: The Sisters Arrive Riding Dragons


    The green dragonfire swept across the battlefield, carving a scorched canyon and igniting green mes. Inside Harrenhal, the wildfire burned relentlessly, roaring with ferocity.


    The dragonfire outside the city and the wildfire within created a terrible echo, transforming the area into a green-ming purgatory.


    Unlike the finite wildfire, the dragon��s mes seemed endless. Cannibal''s eyes glowed fiercely as it showed no mercy to the fleeing figures below.


    Rhaegar, his sword in one hand, nced at the chaos in Harrenhal. "It''s really wildfire," he thought.


    Thanks to his extensive education, Rhaegar understood the destructive power of wildfire all too well. He knew it was a rare alchemical product, rumored to contain a hint of magic. Its terrible destructive power and unstable nature had long led to its ban by the Citadel��s maesters.


    Watching the zing wildfire from afar, Rhaegar could feel the intense heat and pungent smell. "After today, Harrenhal will need massive reconstruction," he thought, sighing for Lord Lyonel.


    Wildfire could burn through wood, stone, and steel, and water could not extinguish it. Harrenhal had already suffered extensive damage in the aftermath of the Conqueror''s War. The facilities House Strong had built over the decades would now be lost to the wildfire. Repairing the castle would cost a fortune.


    ...


    Inside Kingspyre Tower, the temperature in the lord''s bedroom grew warmer and warmer after Alys River��s departure.Grovery by the window, anxiously watching the chaos below. In his heart he cursed, "A bunch of useless children and grandchildren, why don''t they lead the army to rescue me?


    After the attack on the camp that night, he had fled to Harrenhal under the protection of the guards. The Bracken Houseid siege to Harrenhal and incited the people to attack the town.


    Though the ckwoods were more reasonable and did not participate in the night attack and siege, they were even more hateful.


    The Lord of ckwood had stationed his army outside Riverrun, blocking the path of House Tully''s army and effectively preventing support for Harrenhal. He sat back and watched the Bracken House''s evil deeds, hoping to reap the benefits.


    There were 2,000 men left at Riverrun. Together with the bannermen Grover had gathered, he could probably build an army of 5,000 men. If one of his two sons could stand up and take charge, they could repel the ckwoods'' army and, in a matter of days,e to rescue their old father from the besieged city.


    But if they had that kind of ability and courage, they wouldn''t useless sons.


    Bang...


    Grover knocked heavily on the wall, his heart burning with fear.


    "Ahem..."


    A cough rang out, pulling him back from his panic. Grover''s spirits lifted and he looked back at the solid wooden king-size bed. On the bed, Lyonel''s chest rose and fell violently, his eyes zed over, and he was coughing hard, his neck strained.


    "Lord Lyonel!"


    Grover hastily helped him turn over and patted his back to clear his breath. Lyonel''s face turned red as he held his breath, finally managing to spit out a mouthful of thick phlegm and take a deep breath.


    "What time is it?" Lyonel asked, panting heavily, his eyes nk. He vaguely remembered the attack on the camp and falling from his horse, returning to Harrenhal and being treated by a maester. He had been unconscious for several days, his mind a jumble of confusion.


    Grover looked sad and said, "We are trapped. The Bracken House does not want to let us go."


    "Has the kingdom''s support arrived?" Lyonel cleared his mind, thinking first of reinforcements from King��s Landing. With Viserys'' character, even if he was weak, he wouldn''t tolerate his bannermen openly rebelling.


    "Support..."


    Grover��s face turned bitter, unsure of what to say. The raven had been sent out, but the kingdom had been in war for years, and the Rivends, Vale, and other kingdoms had depleted their troops. Gathering arge army to put down the rebellion would take more than a few days.


    Seeing his expression, Lyonel understood the situation, sweat breaking out on his forehead. He also felt the heat.


    "Roar!"


    A loud and clear dragon roar echoed across the northern shore of God''s Eye Lake, spreading throughout Harrenhal. Lyonel''s eyes lit up at the sound, and his voice was harsh: "It''s a dragon''s roar."


    When the Targaryens ruled Westeros, they never relied on an army; it was the dragons that ruled the skies.


    "Help me up. The castle is on fire; I have to organize the men." Lyonel supported himself with his left hand and struggled to get up.


    Grover reached out to support him, not refusing his request. The dragon hade. He finally felt a little relieved.


    Noon arrived.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal circled Harrenhal, scorching the ground wherever it flew.


    Charred bodies piled up at Harrenhal''s front gate, asionally punctuated by the anguished howls of the wounded. Rhaegar stood on the battlements, one hand covering his mouth and nose, his hair shielding his eyes from the smoke.


    After a relentless bombardment of dragonfire, the enemy army had copsed and fled in panic. Hundreds of Bracken soldiersy dead, with more than a thousand killed among the attacking mob. The rest had scattered, too numerous for the Cannibal to kill.


    Rhaegar''s priority was the safety of Harrenhal, not the ughter of a fleeing mob.


    "Prince, the fires are still raging. We must leave the city," Harwin said as he ran up to the battlements, his face gray with soot and worry.


    Sand was the only thing that could weaken the wildfire, and the soldiers were doing their best to contain it. But the fire in the Godswood was hard to put out.


    The Godswood, a sacred grove within the walls of castles throughout the Seven Kingdoms, was a ce of prayer and worship for those who followed the old gods. In the center stood a weirwood tree with a face carved into it, surrounded by other trees and flowers. Harrenhal''s Godswood covered twenty acres and included numerous pines and sentry trees.


    The wildfire had spread through the Godswood and threatened the castle''s five towers.


    Hearing this, Rhaegar nodded. "How is Lord Lyonel? I hear he is injured."


    Lyonel Strong was a dedicated and responsible Hand of the King, and Rhaegar had great respect for him.


    Harwin''s eyes brightened with a mixture of relief and sorrow as he replied, "Father has just awakened. I have ordered him and Lord Grover to be evacuated from the city."


    "That''s good." Rhaegar sighed in relief.


    "Roar!"


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, two piercing dragon roars echoed over Harrenhal. Rhaegar and Harwin raised their heads simultaneously, searching for the source of the sound.


    In the clear blue sky, a massive dragon with pale blue scales soared over the vast God''s Eye Lake, ruffling the clouds. At the same time, a slightly smaller golden dragon glided low over the surface of theke before rising into the air.


    On the backs of these dragons sat two Targaryen women, one older and one younger. Rhaegar''s keen eyes recognized them instantly. "Rhaenyra, Hena?"


    The light blue dragon was Dreamfyre, and the gold one was Syrax.


    Dreamfyre, beingrger, flew faster and soon arrived at Harrenhal, wings beating powerfully.


    "Brother!" Hena called in her clear, youthful voice. She wore her hair in a bun and a simple white dress, and sat happily in Dreamfyre''s newly added saddle.


    "Hena, what brings you here?" Rhaegar called to his sister, leaning against the battlements.


    "Roar..." Syrax arrived next,nding heavily on the walls and creating a gust of wind. Rhaenyra, sitting in Syrax''s saddle, held on tightly and said, "She insisted oning and outran me."


    Rhaenyra had nned toe alone, but Hena had joined her after hearing that she was going to Harrenhal to find Rhaegar. As soon as Hena heard the news, she eagerly flew out of King''s Landing on Dreamfyre.


    Dreamfyrended gracefully on the city wall and lowered its neck for Hena to dismount. Unfastening the chain around her waist, Hena slid down Dreamfyre''s smooth back instead of using the softdder.


    "Brother, why didn''t you call me when you came to Harrenhal?" Hena asked, running to Rhaegar and hugging him tightly.


    "Princess," Harwin greeted her respectfully.


    "Hello, Ser," Hena replied, nodding before looking back at Rhaegar with curious eyes.


    Rubbing his forehead, Rhaegar said, "I''m here to quell a rebellion, can''t you see the chaos below?"


    Hena, unaware of the destruction, looked puzzled. She had been so focused on flying with Dreamfyre that she hadn''t noticed the devastation.


    "Rhaegar, what happened to Harrenhal?" Rhaenyra asked as she climbed down from Syrax, frowning at the mes still raging in the Godswood. From the color of the mes, she had initially thought they were dragonfire.


    Rhaegar sighed and rubbed Hena''s head. "The Bracken House found the wildfire and nearly breached the gates. The Strong House suffered greatly."


    Rhaenyra looked around, taking in the scorched earth and the devastation. "I should havee with you," she whispered.


    "If you had, the three dragons might have burned the entire rebellion to ashes," Rhaegar replied with a wry smile. "But now, go meet with Lord Lyonel. We''ll spend the night outside the city."


    "Alright," Rhaenyra and Hena responded in unison.


    ...


    Into the Night


    The north shore of God''s Eye Lake was lit by a sprawling campground, campfires flickering against the night sky. Soldiers patrolled both the castle and the campsite, while servants were busy organizing the salvaged goods.


    Inside thergest tent, Lyonely on a simple wooden bed, his freshly changed bandages stark against his skin. Surrounding him were Rhaegar and his two sisters, Harwin and Grover.


    "Prince, it''s a good thing you got here when you did. It would have been all over otherwise," Grover said, raising a ss of red wine in a toast.


    Rhaegar nodded in recognition, tapping the tabletop. "My lord, the raven sent to your family should have reached them by now. We should hear news soon."


    Despite his skepticism about the abilities of the two Tully sons in Riverrun, Rhaegar hoped they would at least make a move to help their father.


    Grover''s face tightened and he waved his hand dismissively. His two ipetent sons might see his predicament as an opportunity to take control of Riverrun rather than to save him.


    Lyonel, speaking weakly but with determination, interjected, "Prince, with your escape from the Stepstones, the Rivends canunch a counterattack."

 Chapter 234: The Mark of Cannibal

    Chapter 234: The Mark of Cannibal


    Morning Meeting


    Upon awakening, Lyonel was bombarded with information. He learned of Rhaegar''s attack on the Triarchy and the impending victory over the Stepstones.


    With a dragon returned to thend, the rebellion in the Rivends seemed manageable.


    "Lord Lyonel, tend to your wounds," Rhaegar said, eyeing Lyonel''s bloated form with concern.


    Lyonel patted his chest and coughed twice. "My physique is fine."


    The Strong Hpuse, true to its name, boasted robust and healthy members, except for Lyonel''s second son, Larys, who was born with a clubfoot and fragile health.


    Seeing Lyonel''s resilience, Rhaegar continued, "The rebel lords are led by the ckwood and Bracken House. I intend to crush them with blood."


    tant treason demanded a stern response.


    "Prince, your idea is understandable," Lyonel replied, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "But these houses have deep roots in the Rivends, going back thousands of years. Too much bloodshed could provoke a bacsh from other nobles."The nobility was a peculiar group, often at each other''s throats. But if the royal family decimated a major house, it could spark widespread resentment.


    Rhaegar nodded, understanding the delicate bnce. "What do you propose?"


    "Be polite first, and only then use force to avoid a bad reputation," Lyonel suggested. "Send someone to negotiate with both families to gauge their attitudes."


    The ckwoods, though involved in skirmishes with the Riverrun army, still showed some sense and could be swayed. Conversely, the Brackens acted with reckless abandon and would need to be severely punished.


    By exploiting the enmity between the two houses, they could quell the rebellion with minimal casualties.


    Rhaegar agreed, considering Lyonel''s advice. "I know Samwell ckwood, the ckwood heir. We may be able to win him over."


    He also noted that Robb Rivers, leader of the Second Sons, was from ckwood, and was Samwell''s half-brother, a bastard son of the Lord of ckwood.


    Rhaegar and Lyonel then delved into specific strategies, their discussion stretching into the night.


    ...


    After leaving the tent, Rhaegar stretched his back, feeling the tension of the long discussion ease. The cool night air was a wee relief.


    Rhaenyra and Hena walked out together, their faces reflecting the glow of the campfire.


    "Rhaegar, you should rest," Rhaenyra said, taking his hand in concern.


    Hena, leaning against Rhaegar''s leg, sped her small hands together and watched quietly. Except when she was riding her dragon, she was generally introverted.


    "Okay, you two share a tent and watch each other," Rhaegar suggested, his eyes softening. He gently tugged at Hena''s small hand.


    It would be safer for the two sisters to sleep together in the wilderness. Rhaenyra looked at Hena and took her hand helplessly. Since taming Dreamfyre, Hena had grown bolder every day.


    She wondered how worried Alicent would be if she discovered Hena had snuck out of King''s Landing.


    "Roar..."


    A dragon''s roar echoed across the night sky,ing from the direction of Harrenhal. The huge dragon flew overhead, momentarily blocking the moonlight and casting a dim shadow.


    Rhaegar squinted, watching Cannibal''s movements. The typically lethargic dragon that preferred to sleep was unusually restless.


    Boom...


    After circling twice, Cannibalnded on the shore of God''s Eye Lake, its massive body towering over the three siblings. Its broad wings spread wide as it pped and shook itself.


    "What did you find, partner?" Rhaegar approached Cannibal''s hind feet and tapped its scales, sensing its difort.


    Cannibal leaned down, its house-sized head arching over Rhaegar. Its green vertical pupils stared intently at God''s Eye Lake.


    Rhaegar followed Cannibal''s gaze. Theke''s surface was dimly lit under the night sky, with asional moonlight causing slight ripples.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal let out a low, growling roar and nudged Rhaegar, urging him to climb onto its back. It had sensed something unusual near the turquoise-coloredke.


    Rhaenyra, surveying the tranquil God''s Eye Lake, said suspiciously, "Rhaegar, your dragon seems to be looking at the Isle of Faces."


    A dragon''s height and vision were different from that of a human. Even in the dark, its keen eyes could see clearly.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal lifted one of its powerful hind feet and scratched a groove in theke''s grass with its massive ws. Its slitted pupils stared intently at Rhaegar, conveying a silent message.


    Rhaegar studied the dragon''s actions, memories of the recent past flooding back. He recalled Hena taming Dreamfyre and their visit to the Isle of Faces. When Cannibal had left, it had gouged marks into the earth with its ws.


    Seeing the simrity now, Rhaegar''s eyes widened as he eximed, "The mark!"


    Having spent years with Cannibal, Rhaegar understood the dragon''s behavior intimately. Dragons, with their intelligence rivaling that of humans, remembered ces, events, and grudges vividly. However, it was unusual for them to leave marks.


    "The Isle of Faces..." Rhaegar murmured, his mind sifting through historical records.


    Twelve thousand years ago, Westeros was ruled by the Children of the Forest and giants, with no humans present. The First Men, fleeing the oppression of the old Valyrians, invaded Westeros from the Dornish Arm, igniting a war known as the Dawn Age.


    This war, a sh between the First Men and the Children of the Forest,sted for an indeterminate period of time, probably some two thousand years or more. Eventually, wise leaders from both sides swore an oath on the Isle of Faces.


    The pact stipted that the First Men would own the coasts, ins, grasnds, mountains, and swamps, while the great forests would forever belong to the Children of the Forest.


    Tomemorate this peace, faces were carved into every weirwood tree on the ind, bearing witness to the pact made under the Old Gods.


    This ushered in four thousand years of peace, known as the Age of Heroes. But this peace was shattered by the arrival of the Andals, who invaded from the Five Fingers Penins.


    Armed with superior iron weapons and savage tactics, they ughtered the Children of the Forest and burned their sacred groves, recing the Old Gods with their Seven.


    This devastation drove the Children of the Forest north of the Wall, where they faded into legend, their history recorded only in ancient texts.


    Rhaegar sighed in awe, "The Freehold of Valyria was truly formidable."


    Even the mighty House Targaryen was only one of forty dragonlord families. The exiled Aenar Targaryen had foreseen Valyria''s doom through the prophecy of his daughter Daenys, leading them to Dragonstone and survival.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal grew impatient and nudged Rhaegar hard enough to make him stumble before turning and crouching down.


    Rhaegar steadied himself and said softly, "Hang on, I''ming."


    He climbed up the softdder onto the dragon''s back, then looked at his sisters. "Are you going back to rest, or are youing with me to explore the Isle of Faces?"


    "I want to go!" Hena eximed, raising her small hand and quickly climbing up thedder onto Cannibal.


    Rhaenyra, intrigued, gave Hena a boost. "I''ll go too."


    Once all three were seated on Cannibal''s back, the dragon, satisfied, pped its wings and took off, gliding over the God''s Eye Lake. Rhaegar relinquished the saddle to his sisters and stood on the dragon''s neck, his silver hair blowing in the evening wind.


    Cannibal flew low, his tail skimming the surface of theke, creating ripples. Soon they reached the Isle of Faces andnded in the heart of the ind.


    "I''ll explore first," Rhaegar announced, jumping down from the dragon''s back. He saw several thick, ancient Weirwood trees with twisted branches like a witch''s fingers.


    Weirwoods were rare in the south. Nobles who worshipped the Old Gods usually nted one in their godswoods, but on the Isle of Faces, multiple weirwoods stood together.


    The weirwoods were dense and foreboding, their red leaves rustling in the breeze. Carved faces on the trunks, with crimson sap oozing from their eye sockets, gave an eerie impression.


    Rhaegar gripped the hilt of his Dragon w sword, scanning the area for danger. Once assured, he lit a torch and called out, "It''s safe. Come down."


    Rhaenyra and Hena climbed down, each carrying a torch. The ind was covered in vegetation, with the weirwoods adding to the unsettling atmosphere.


    "Cannibal, what did you find?" Rhaegar asked, touching the rough bark of a weirwood.


    Cannibal responded with a low, rumbling roar. Then, using its wings to brace itself, it swung its thick tail, sweeping away the vegetation on the ind.


    ...


    The climate of the Rivends is warm and fertile, nurturing a variety of shrubs, tropical flowers, and grasses on the ind. Cannibal swung its tail, clearing arge area of space, but it didn��t stop there. The dragon continued its relentless cleanup.


    Situated in the center of God''s Eye Lake, the Isle of Faces is a rare ind in the heart of theke. Its size is substantial,rger than a typical castle''s grounds. However, it couldn''t withstand the ravages of Cannibal''s massive body. In a short time, the once lush ind was reduced to a chaotdscape.


    Rhaegar allowed Cannibal to continue its work, not resting himself. There were seven weirwood trees on the ind, and Rhaegar explored each one meticulously. When he touched thest tree, the thickest of them all, a sharp voice startled him.


    "Stop, Targaryen heir!"


    Rhaegar paused, looking back warily. From the shadowy hillside, a small, stooped figure emerged, leaning heavily on a walking stick.

 Chapter 235: The Green Man and the System Mission

    Chapter 235: The Green Man and the System Mission


    The figure moved quickly and deftly, emerging from the shadows and running down the hill into view.


    "Rhaegar!" Rhaenyra called out, startled. She pulled Hena with one hand and stopped Rhaegar with the other.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared, its pupils fixed on the short figure, hot streams erupting from its mouth and nose. The smell it sensed came from this small intruder.


    Rhaegar held up his torch, the light piercing the darkness to reveal the figure''s face. It was a small, stocky old man dressed in coarse linen. Despite his age, he had dark, curly hair and a beard. A wreath of flowers and vines adorned his head.


    "Don''t be afraid, it''s just an old man," Rhaegar said, stepping forward to reassure his frightened sisters.


    The old man held a twisted walking stick made from a weirwood branch, his flesh trembling slightly as he ran toward them.


    Rhaegar quickly drew his Dragon w sword and coldly demanded, "Who are you and why are you on the Isle of Faces?


    Everyone knew that the Isle of Faces was supposed to be deserted.The old man raised his walking stick above his head with both hands and replied honestly, "My name is Greenhand Gal. I am a Green Man, guardian of the Oath of Allegiance."


    As he spoke, his green eyes darted back and forth between Rhaegar and his sisters, hisrge belly wobbling with each movement.


    "A Green Man!" Rhaegar was stunned and lowered his sword slightly.


    The Green Men were not a specific race, but a mysterious and ancient order. After the Children of the Forest and the First Men had sworn their oaths on the Isle of Faces, the sacred organization of the Green Men had been formed to guard that weird ind. But the Green Men, like the Children of the Forest, had long since vanished from the history of the world.


    Rhaegar remained cautious. His eyes narrowed as he asked, "What proof do you have?"


    "The Green Man is the Green Man, there is no proof," Greenhand Gal replied bluntly. "I really am a Green Man, but that''s all there is to it."


    "You''ve been living on this ind?" Rhaegar pressed, still skeptical.


    "There''s nothing to eat or drink on the ind. I''d starve to death," Greenhand Gal said sincerely, with a broad smile. "I usually work as a witch doctor in a vige near Harrenhal, exchanging my services for food."


    The Green Men were human, after all. Like any human, they needed to eat, drink, and sleep, making it impossible topletely escape human society.


    Rhaegar frowned, half believing what he heard. He turned back to Rhaenyra, who looked equally puzzled.


    Rhaenyra''s thoughts shifted and she asked, "What is yourst name and how are you rted to Greenhand Garth?"


    Greenhand was a title given to a king of the First Men during the Heroic Era. This king was said to be broad and fat, with antlers, green hair and eyes.


    He had magical powers that caused flowers and grass to grow wherever he went. With his blessing, virgins had their first menstruation, old women returned to menstruation, and pregnant women could give birth to two or three babies at once. There were many legends about him.


    Garth the Greenhand sired many children. His eldest son, Garth Gardener, founded House Gardener and became the first King of the Reach.


    House Gardener fell in the Conqueror''s War, and the current Wardens of the South, House Tyrell of Highgarden, were chosen by Aegon the Conqueror because of their close intermarriage with the Gardeners and their shared bloodline with Garth the Greenhand.


    Hearing Rhaenyra''s question, Greenhand Gal scratched his head uncertainly. "I don''t have a family name. I''m from the Reach. I heard the weirwood say I should be a Green Man, so I came to the Isle of Faces."


    "As for my rtionship with Garth the Greenhand..." He thought for a moment before smiling sheepishly. "I suppose I have a bit of his blood in me, enough to boast the nickname."


    In fact, most of the nobles in the Reach had some blood of Garth the Greenhand.


    With a question and an answer, the situation became clearer.


    Rhaegar frowned. "Why do you want to keep me from touching the Weirwood?"


    "The old gods guided me. They forbid your touch," said Greenhand Gal, trying to look as serious as possible. "The Isle of Faces is thest remaining piece of richnd in the south, dedicated to the Old Gods. The dragons will destroy it."


    In utter disbelief, Rhaegar rified, "I touch the Weirwoods and it destroys the Isle of Faces? What kind of logic is that?"


    The Isle of Faces was just a deserted ind with no people and no value except the Weirwoods. How could he destroy it? Unless...


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed as he nced at thest Weirwood, his thoughts racing. With that in mind, he walked a little closer to the Weirwood.


    "Wait!"


    Greenhand Gal shouted hastily, his forehead glistening with sweat. "Prince, I have a very bad premonition. Please stay away from here."


    As Rhaegar approached the weirwood, he could almost hear a wailing sounding from it. His heart pounded and his body grew hot with tension.


    Ignoring Gal''s plea, Rhaegar ced his palm on the rough bark of the tree. The appearance of a fat old man iming to be a Green Man and trying to dissuade him with a few words seemed absurd.


    Cannibal, eyes fixed on the weirwoods, appeared expectant. Rhaegar dismissed the myths of the Children of the Forest, the First Men, and the Green Men. These ancient beings had been relegated to legend, their power diminished long ago.


    At their peak, they had been no match for the Dragonlords of the Freehold. As a descendant of the ancient Valyrian dragonriders, he had no fear of the so-called Old Gods.


    As his palm touched the bark of the weirwood, the system echoed in his mind.


    "This mission is open. The target is the Weirwood bearing the Oath of Allegiance."


    [Weirwood of the Oath of Allegiance]


    Exploration progress: 0.1%


    There was no cataclysm, no celestial upheaval. No gods watched, and no demons cursed. Everything was calm and quiet. A smile touched Rhaegar''s lips as he stroked the bark of the weirwood.


    "Unexpectedly, I''ve activated an explorer mission," he thought, secretly pleased.


    "Nothing happened?" Greenhand Gal stood frozen, stunned by the scene.


    Rhaenyra stood, holding her torch and shaking it slightly.


    "You want something to happen?" Rhaenyra replied, her tone slightly mocking.


    He felt uneasy, but the weirwood seemed unharmed. Listening to their conversation, Rhaegar''s mind raced with possibilities. The relics this time might affect the Isle of Faces.


    "Rhaenyra, let''s spend the night here," Rhaegar suggested, pulling a spare nket from his space bracelet. He needed to stay close to the Weirwood to maintain the progress of his exploration.


    Rhaenyra didn''t object, though she eyed Greenhand Gal warily.


    Sensing the change, Gal backed away, "My boat is at the shore. I''ll leave now."


    With the Weirwood unharmed, there was no reason for him to stay. Reluctantly, he took onest look at the Weirwood, then turned and disappeared into the night, carrying his walking stick.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal''s low growl echoed as the dragony protectively beside Rhaegar and hispanions. Rhaegar lit a campfire for warmth as Rhaenyra and Hena slept beside him under the stars.


    ...


    The sun shone brightly the next morning, filtering through the red leaves of the weirwoods and illuminating Rhaegar''s face.


    "Roar..."


    A distant dragon''s roar and the sound of running water woke Rhaegar from his sleep. Groggy and disoriented, the first thing he saw was the eerie, bleeding face of a Weirwood, causing him to roll away in panic.


    Regaining hisposure, Rhaegar propped himself up on the damp ground, feeling both frustrated and helpless. He muttered angrily, "What taste did the Children of the Forest have to carve these faces?"


    Calming his racing heart, he noticed the nket wrapped around his waist. The campfire had burned out, and Rhaenyra and Hena were nowhere to be seen, probably out exploring.


    A system notification rang in his ears. "Explorationplete. Please retrieve the relic treasures."


    Rhaegar''s mood lifted. He checked the system interface.


    [Weirwood of the Oath of Allegiance]


    Exploration Progress: 100%


    The once repulsive Weirwood seemed softer now. Rhaegar stood and circled the tree, finding a watermelon-sized reddish glow on its canopy.


    "Found it," he murmured, reaching out to touch the glowing spot.


    With a gentle touch, the red halo exploded into brilliant points of light and merged into his hand.


    "Relic picked up sessfully. Detection in progress..."


    "Recognition sessful. Judged as a Legendary Relic: sh and Burn."


    "Legendary level," Rhaegar thought tedly. He saw a sickle and a piece of charcoal.


    He tried to pull out the sickle and the charcoal.


    "Relic not yet activated," the system informed him.


    Rhaegar hesitated before examining the [sh and Burn] relic alert.


    "sh or Burn?"


    A simple prompt appeared. Rhaegar guessed it was a multiple-choice question. Without hesitation, he chose the Burn option, aligning with the Targaryen motto: Blood and Fire.


    The bronze sickle shattered, disappearing from his mind. The charcoal ignited, glowing red-hot.


    With a thought, Rhaegar tried to manifest the charcoal. It appeared, hovering before him.


    Just as he reached out to grasp it, the charcoal exploded, scattering ash into the soil and merging with thend.


    Suddenly, the entire Isle of Faces began to tremble as if struck by an earthquake.


    "Gahhhhhh..."


    The tremors sent ck swans fleeing from theke in terror.


    Rhaegar struggled to maintain his bnce as another system notification chimed.


    "Congrattions, sh and Burn has been activated. You have obtained..."


    [Earthbreaking Fire]


    Grade: Legendary (Red)


    Function: Taps into the mes deep underground, subliminally transforming thend.


    Evaluation: "A disposable fire, fleeting."

 Chapter 236: The Ambition to Rebuild the Dragonpit

    Chapter 236: The Ambition to Rebuild the Dragonpit


    After reading the description of the system, Rhaegar''s face changed dramatically.


    "mes hidden deep underground... isn''t that magma?" he murmured. The volcano on Dragonstone Ind was filled with magma.


    Boom...


    A small patch of earth mixed with carbon ash suddenly exploded, forming a round pit the size of a face. Rhaegar quickly backed away, thinking the magma was about to erupt.


    But he was wrong.


    The Isle of Faces, in the center of God''s Eye Lake, was an ind. No matter how much underground me gathered, it couldn''t erupt magma here. But something else appeared.


    Water.


    A small pool quickly formed at the bottom of the pit. Rhaegar stood guard, unsure of what was happening. The water in the pool bubbled and hissed.


    Whoosh...A misty mist rose from the puddle, warm and damp. Rhaegar sniffed the air and detected a strong smell of sulfur. He stepped closer and boldly dipped his hand into the water.


    "Hot!" Rhaegar murmured, plunging both hands into the water. A word came to him: Hot Springs!


    Rumble...


    The trembling of the Isle of Faces continued, gradually lessening in intensity. The weirwood trees shook and shed their red leaves. Momentster, the trees stood bare, and the small puddle was surrounded by fallen leaves.


    Rhaegar sat on the ground, gazing at the puddle, red leaves covering his silver hair and shoulders.


    "Is this the [Earthbreaking Fire] effect? A small hot spring?" Rhaegar mused, resting his chin in his hand.


    On second thought, hot springs relied on underground heat. The presence of a hot spring indicated a significant change in the ind''s underground structure.


    His eyes fell on the system''s description again, noting the phrase "transforming thend".


    Rhaegar scooped up some warm spring water and tasted it. The taste of sulfur was strong, pungent, and astringent.


    The taste sparked many thoughts. The Dragonlords of Valyria lived amidst the Fourteen mes, a perfect environment for dragons because of the active volcanoes. The ind of Dragonstone also had a volcano, where Vermithor and Silverwing slumbered.


    Volcandscapes were rare in Westeros. The only other known ce with hot springs was Winterfell, home of the Starks, with a significantly higher underground temperature.


    Considering this, Rhaegar spected, "At the very least, the geothermal temperature beneath the Isle of Faces is high enough to make it a better ce for dragons than the Dragonpit in King''s Landing."


    This revtion rekindled his old idea to rebuild the Dragonpit. Staring at the steam-filled spring, Rhaegar felt ted. "What a precious piece ofnd, worthy of a legendary relic."


    He began to consider iming the Isle of Faces for himself.


    "Roar..."


    A dragon''s roar interrupted his thoughts. Rhaegar looked up to see Rhaenyra riding Syrax, dressed in a ck gown.


    "Rhaegar, there''s been an earthquake on the Isle of Faces. Come with me," Rhaenyra urged, looking worried as she guided Syrax tond.


    "Roar.."


    "Roar!"


    Two dragon roars echoed through the sky as the sunlight was blocked by massive, charcoal-ck dragon wings. Cannibal had taken to the skies and was circling low over the Isle of Faces, clearly fascinated by the ind.


    Hena was riding a panicked Dreamfyre, approaching from the direction of the beach on the Isle of Faces. Dragons have sharper senses than humans, and the three dragons were immediately rmed by the ind''s tremors.


    Seeing Syrax hesitating tond, Rhaegar shouted, "I''m fine, don''t worry!"


    He was indeed fine; he had caused themotion and knew its source. If anything was wrong, it was the few remaining Weirwood trees. The hot spring had appeared right next to them, where the underground temperature was highest. He hoped they could withstand the heat.


    As the aftershocks subsided and calm returned, Syrax and Dreamfyrended first, allowing their riders to dismount. Rhaegar pointed to a small puddle on the ground and grinned. "Look, a hot spring!"


    "Huh?" Rhaenyra looked confused as she stepped over the thick carpet of red leaves.


    "Brother, are you all right?" Hena''s eyes were filled with concern as she trotted over to Rhaegar.


    She and Rhaenyra had been up early. Dreamfyre had wanted to y, so Hena had apanied the dragon to the shore of the Isle of Faces. Rhaenyra had been uneasy and had called Syrax to keep watch, still debating whether to wake Rhaegar when the earthquake startled them all.


    Seeing the concern in Hena''s eyes, Rhaegar ruffled her hair and smiled. "I''m fine, really."


    He had explored a Legendary Tier Relic and activated it, resulting in the unexpected bonus of a hot spring. Over time, the geothermal heat on the Isle of Faces would only increase, enhancing the Targaryen family''s domain.


    "It really is a hot spring," Rhaenyra remarked, stirring the puddle with her fingers, her surprise evident.


    She did not dwell on the high underground temperatures. As Princess of Dragonstone, she was ustomed to volcanoes and the conditions necessary to raise dragons. To her, the hot spring merely indicated high underground temperatures, not the extreme environment dragons required.


    Rhaegarughed, "The hot spring appeared out of nowhere and seems to be expanding."


    Rhaenyra frowned slightly, still puzzled by the sudden appearance of a hot spring on the Isle of Faces. Unable to figure it out, she decided not to worry. When she felt the warm spring water, her eyes lit up with excitement. "If the hot spring gets bigger, we could build a pool exclusively for the royal family."


    Hot springs were a rare luxury, inessible to most.


    Rhaegar agreed, "Yes, I''ll provide thebor and you can finance the construction of a great pool."


    He had thousands of ves outside King''s Landing, perfect for the task.


    Rhaenyra nodded eagerly, "Uh-huh."


    The thought of having an exclusive hot spring bath in the future filled her with happiness.


    ...


    The Free Trade City-State of Lys


    In the dpidated Perfume Garden, a group of conspirators were plotting something significant. Tyrosh was represented by a lean young man with fiery hair, ying with a skull-shaped wine ss.


    His name was Baromy Strode, the current Archon of Tyrosh. As for the former Archon, an elderly man in brocade robes, he nowy dead at Baromy��s hands.


    The only remaining representative from Myr was a fat, dark-skinned man with a whip at his waist. He had been the first to flee when their city was attacked. Myr''s forces had been decimated, with only five hundred Unsullied surviving the assaults of the ves and the wealthy.


    In Lys, the Rogare family had been destroyed, leading to a ve uprising.


    In the midst of the chaos, a strong man with curly ck hair and dark brown skin, Bambarro Bazann<b>e</b>, emerged. Once a smuggler, Bambarro had saved enough over the years to build a fleet. He seized the opportunity during Lys'' turmoil to steal power and be the new leader.


    The fat Myrish man spoke first. "News of the dragon''s attack on the Triarchy has spread throughout Essos. The Sea King of Braavos has only agreed to send a letter condemning the King on the Iron Throne and has refused to send troops."


    "It''s the same everywhere," Baromy scoffed. "Other city-states have retreated as well, only daring to send letters of condemnation."


    Baromy had risen from the ranks of mercenaries. His rise to Archon was due to his daring during the dragon attack. He had plundered the wealthiest merchants and hired more mercenaries. His audacity had paid off.


    Bambarro of Lys took a small bottle from his pocket and said in a deep voice, "The mastermind of the attack has returned to Westeros. We must take action to show the people that we are doing something."


    They weren��t thest desperate fools gambling their lives. They needed to set an example for the high-ranking magisters and rich merchants who felt persecuted, demonstrating their resolve.


    The small vial contained Lys'' Tears, a poison that could take a life without the victim knowing.


    "Who should we target?" asked the Myrish representative.


    "There are two other dragon riders on the Stepstone Inds," Baromy suggested.


    "I agree..."


    ...


    A few dayster.


    The northern shore of the God''s Eye.


    Swish swish...


    Four hundred Unsullied and five hundred Second Sons marched in, forming neat rows.


    "Greetings, Prince!..."


    A thousand voices cried in unison.


    In front of them stood a massive ck dragon, as imposing as a small mountain.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared, its feet firmly nted on the ground, wings spread wide, generating powerful gusts of wind.


    Rhaegar stood beneath its head, ncing sideways at the assembled army.


    His expression remained calm, indifferent to the thousand-strong force before him.


    He turned his gaze towards Harrenhal in the distance.


    The green wildfire had finally been extinguished.


    After the fire, Harrenhal, already in ruins and decrepit, looked even more deste, like a dying candle.


    The five towers were charred ck by the mes.


    The forest of sacred trees was reduced to ashes, and even the nearby city walls were cracked and burned.


    Smoke rose from the ruins, making the twisted towers appear even darker.


    Lyonel was seriously ill and Harwin was on patrol.


    Rhaenyra had taken on the role of first steward, directing the servants to clean up the towers and move supplies.


    "Robb," Rhaegar called.


    Robb, d in a heavy steel helmet, stepped forward immediately and saluted, "Prince!"


    Rhaegar nced at him and ordered, "Lead the Second Sons to Riverrun. If you meet the ckwoods'' army on the way, you know what to do."


    Robb, already prepared, replied firmly, "I guarantee a safe arrival."


    Rhaegar nodded and motioned for him to rest before leaving.


    Robb led his party to a barracks the Strong House had set up in advance.


    Rhaegar''s eyes flickered as his mind wandered.


    He should have left for Riverrun days ago.


    For some reason, he was waiting for Robb and the Second Sons to arrive.


    Most of the soldiers of the Second Sons came from the Rivends, often the second sons or illegitimate children of noble families.


    Robb himself was a favored bastard of Lord ckwood.


    This organization wasn''t just powerful in arms; it was a valuable political asset.


    The Strong House''s army passing through the ckwoods'' garrison and the Second Sons doing the same were two different things.


    Dragons were effective in battle, but Lyonel''s advice to win hearts and minds by using internal factions was sound.


    Robb and the Second Sons were instrumental in quelling the rebellion in the Rivends.


    As Rhaegar reflected on this, a phrase from his dreams came to mind.


    "War is the continuation of politics."


    Wars were caused by political failures.


    His thoughts returned to the Unsullied and his gaze fell upon them.


    Rhaegar looked at an Unsulliedmander with three spikes on his helmet and asked, "What is your name?"


    The officer stiffened and blurted out, "Grey Worm."


    "Grey Worm," Rhaegar repeated, confused. "That''s the name the ve masters of Astapor gave you, isn''t it?"


    He knew something of the Unsullied.


    Every day, names were drawn from slips of paper with colors and different types of reptiles on them.


    Together they formed the name of the day.

 Chapter 237: The Dragon Has Three Heads

    Chapter 237: The Dragon Has Three Heads


    "Yes, Prince," Grey Worm replied, looking straight ahead.


    "Why don''t you all change your names so you''re no longer tied to very?" Rhaegar asked, intrigued.


    The Unsullied had been trafficked as children, and by the age of four or five they should remember their original names.


    Grey Worm replied solemnly, "The name that once brought me pain and enved me is no longer a burden."


    "The day Astapor fell, I sought your protection," he continued, his chest swelling with pride. "Since that day, I have kept the name Grey Worm. It now symbolizes my sanity and my courage to fight for freedom."


    Swoosh...


    As he spoke, the Unsullied struck their round shields with their spears in unison, their eyes filled with admiration as they gazed upon Rhaegar and the dragon.


    Rhaegar''s expression softened as he surveyed the more than 400 Unsullied, his gaze calm and collected.


    From this diverse group of warriors, he sensed a pure essence.It was called "Faith."


    They longed for freedom and peace, and they saw Rhaegar as their beacon.


    The old and new gods would not save these castrated ve soldiers.


    But Rhaegar, who had burned the city with his dragon, would.


    Rhaegar Targaryen, Breaker of Shackles, Ruin-Maker; that was what they believed.


    Rhaegar withdrew his scrutinizing gaze and smiled, "A perfectly trustworthy army."


    "Grey Worm," he called.


    "Yes, Prince!" Grey Worm stepped forward, his voice firm.


    Rhaegar resumed his authoritative tone, "We don''t need too many troops to put down the rebellion. Harrenhal has suffered greatly from the fire. Lead the army to station here and prevent any counterattacks."


    "Yes, Prince!" Grey Worm epted the mission and immediately led the troops to join the patrol.


    Rhaegar raised his head to the sky and murmured, "Riverrun City, ckwood..."


    ...


    Dusk.


    Three dragons rose from Harrenhal and soared toward Riverrun. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a reddish haze over the t, fertilend. Rivers flowed endlessly, and farnds stretched as far as the eye could see-this was the Rivends, the Land of Fish and Grain."


    In the heart of the noble path, the farnd had been piged and burned, mostly by marauding bands of ouws.


    "Roar...",


    As they neared Riverrun, Cannibal slowed and roared a warning. Rhaegar looked down and saw arge, well-fortified camp on a high hill not far from Riverrun. Watchtowers, archery posts, horses, and other defenses were in ce. At the foot of the hill, a meandering stream provided a natural barrier.


    Rhaegar took one look and knew the general in charge was strategically astute. The hilltop camp was easy to defend and difficult to attack. With sufficient supplies, it could withstand a prolonged siege. It would be a tough nut to crack.


    Above the camp''s gatehouse flew a noble banner depicting crows surrounding a weirwood tree. Rhaegar recognized it: "House ckwood."


    His respect for the ckwoods grew. The camp''s location was strategically brilliant.


    House ckwood''s Raventree Hally west of the Red Fork River, south of Harrenhal. Running Stream was at the confluence of the Red Fork and Tumblestone Rivers. House Bracken''s Stone Hedge was north of the Red Fork and northeast of Riverrun. The ckwood-Bracken conflict raged on the north bank of the Red Fork, in fertile pasturnd.


    Recently, Harwin''s army from Riverrun had shed with the vanguards of both houses. House Bracken, recovering from defeat, hadunched a night attack on Harwin''s camp. Harwin and the Tullys had retreated to Harrenhal.


    Now the ckwoods had set up camp south of Riverrun and west of Stone Hedge, effectively blocking the route between Riverrun, Stone Hedge, and Harrenhal. They didn''t attack, but they were a thorn in the side, destabilizing the Rivends.


    Their tactics were notorious, but undeniably effective.


    As the campfires began to cook dinner, Cannibal swooped down and wreaked havoc.


    "Dragon! The dragon ising!"


    "Hide in the burrows!"


    The presence of the ck dragon caused instant panic. Soldiers abandoned their posts and dove into the holes they had dug for cover.


    "Roar!"


    Before the soldiers could fully retreat, Dreamfyre and Syrax swooped down, their wings whipping up fierce winds.


    Crash!


    At Hena''smand, Dreamfyre flicked his tail and snapped the camp''s gpole.


    In an instant, the three dragons rose again.


    Syrax flew close to Cannibal, and Rhaenyra, d in her ck dragon armor, shouted, "Rhaegar, is this all we''re doing?"


    She had been expecting an attack as the dragons swooped down.


    Rhaegar looked at the chaos below and chuckled, "No need for violence today."


    The three dragons flew over the barracks, confident that the ckwoods would make the right choice.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared, lifting his wings in the turbulent river toward the city of Riverrun. Dreamfyre and Syrax circled around, close behind.


    ...


    Riverrun.


    A sturdy, triangr castle built where the Tumblestone River meets the Red Fork. The castle is rtively small, bordered on two sides by the river, with arge man-made moat on the west side. When the water gate is opened, the trench fills with river water, transforming the castle into a small ind surrounded by water on three sides and nearly impregnable.


    At that moment, Riverrun''s Watergate was open. Water flowed around the castle and the drawbridge was raised.


    "Roar..."


    The dragon''s roar echoed as Cannibal pped its wings and slowly descended in front of the water-filled trench. Rhaegar, seated on his saddle, looked down at the garrison on Riverrun''s battlements and shouted, "The Prince and Princess of Targaryen have arrived! Summon the sons of Lord Tully to wee us!"


    "Roar..."


    Syrax and Dreamfyre followed,nding one on either side of Cannibal. The three dragons raised their heads, staring at the triangr castle.


    The garrison, having never witnessed such a sight, nearly lost theirposure. In a panic, they hurried down the battlements to notify the two gentlemen in charge.


    Rhaegar watched calmly, a slight smile ying at the corners of his mouth.


    The Tully family, as the Lords of the Rivends, held a crucial position. To pacify the rebellion, Riverrun had to be visited first.


    ...


    Nightfall.


    On Bloodstone Ind, patrol ships continued their nightly rounds, diligently scanning the waters. They intercepted a small sailboat attempting to smuggle goods.


    There were three men aboard, all from the Stornds of Westeros. Upon capture, the soldiers discovered the boat''s cargo: leather, barley, and dozens of bottles of red wine from Lys.


    One of the smugglers, trembling with fear, knelt and begged, "My lord, please, we are only trying to make a living."


    "Save your breath, smuggler!" A soldier kicked him to the ground, spitting in contempt. Smugglers were despised, even lower than poachers in Westeros.


    "Let''s see what we have here," a middle-aged voicemanded. Two silver-haired, dark-skinned figures emerged from the patrol ship: Commander Vaemond and his nephew, Laenor.


    Vaemond examined the cargo with a practiced eye. When his eyes fell on the red wine, his expression changed. The prolonged war had left ample supplies, but good wine was in short supply. The quality red wine was a rare treat.


    "Take the wine and throw these men into the sea," Vaemond ordered, his voice cold and dismissive. The Valyrians, with their maritime heritage, knew well the ruthlessw of the sea.


    The smuggler pleaded desperately, "My lord, I have a pregnant wife to care for. Please, show mercy. The Old and New Gods will bless you."


    Vaemond remained unmoved. "Do as I said. Feed them to the fish."


    "Yes, my lord," the soldiers replied, dragging the men to the edge of the ship. Panicked, the smuggler shouted, "Wait! I have two bottles of Dornish Summer Red - ten years old, the finest wine you''ll ever taste!"


    "Wait," Vaemondmanded, intrigued. "Aged Summer Red?"


    The smuggler nodded frantically. "Yes, my lord. It''s on the ship. A gift for you."


    "Fetch it," Vaemond ordered, his interest piqued. The smuggler rushed to the ship and returned with a wooden case containing two bottles of wine, the liquid inside as crimson as blood.


    With shaking hands, he offered the bottles. Vaemond opened one and took a deep breath, savoring the fruity aroma. "True summer red," he confirmed with satisfaction. He passed the other bottle to Laenor. "Enjoy, nephew. It''s been a while since we''ve had good wine."


    "Thank you, Uncle," Laenor said, pleased. It had been a long time since he had tasted good wine.


    Vaemond smiled, pleased. "Take the wine. Dispose of the rest."


    The soldiers quickly executed the smugglers and plundered the remaining goods. Before they left, they set fire to the sailboat.


    With the precious bottle of wine, Laenor returned to Bloodstone Ind, eager to share his find with Aegon. He found his cousin secluded in his tent.


    "Cousin, look what I''ve got," Laenor announced, lifting the tent p.


    "No, no! Don''te in yet," Aegon cried, his voice strained. Hey naked, his hands hidden under the nket.


    "Oh, by the Seven Gods!" Laenor eximed, turning away in embarrassment. "Sorry, I didn''t know you were busy."


    "Just a moment," Aegon grunted, his movements quickening. His body tensed and he let out a low moan.


    "Are you finished?" Laenor asked, half amused, half annoyed.

 Chapter 238: Aegon’s Little Buddy

    Chapter 238: Aegon��s Little Buddy


    The next day at dawn.


    In the Great Hall of Riverrun, Old Tully''s two sons and a retinue of retainers lined both sides of the room. Above them, in a separate chamber, Rhaegar, d in ck, sat on the Lord''s high seat.


    A bell chimed softly as Hena, standing by Rhaegar''s side, rang it to summon the servants. Rhaenyra quickly took the bell from her and gave her a stern look. Hena shrank back, snuggling into Rhaegar''sp, silenced.


    BANG!


    The hall doors burst open and Robb Rivers strode in, helmeted and tired after a grueling day and night journey to Riverrun.


    Rhaegar, his hands on the armrests, tilted his head, "Milov, step forward."


    Milov Tully, the second son of Old Tully, stepped forward, his head hanging low with trepidation. His lewd, gaunt appearance spoke of a life of debauchery.


    Rhaegar eyed him with disdain, "Riverrun has a thousand defenders. Why did you avoid fighting?"


    The Old Lord Tully sons had been left to stew for a day and a night; it was time to see what they were made of.Milov, barely lifting his head, replied weakly, "Prince, my father ordered us to defend the city, not send troops."


    Rhaegar snorted and summoned Old Tully''s youngest son. This man, fat as a pig with a mop of red hair, resembled a reborn boar.


    Before Rhaegar could speak, the young man blurted out, "I wanted to send troops, but no one would obey my orders."


    His face, trembling with random jerks, showed ack of intelligence that exined his failure tomand.


    "Enough, both of you, get out!" Rhaegar bellowed, not wasting another look.


    The Tully brothers, relieved as if pardoned, slipped out the side door.


    Riverrun was the stronghold of the Tully House, and this meeting was crucial to the safety of the Rivends. Yet the brothers showed no concern, only an eagerness to avoid responsibility. Rhaegar sighed, momentarily sympathizing with Old Tully''s plight.


    At that moment, a young man with ck hair stepped forward and asked, "Prince, I hear the chaotic army is besieging Harrenhal. Are Lord Lyonel and my grandfather safe?"


    Rhaegar recognized the young man. It was Elmo Tully, the sixteen-year-old grandson of Old Tully and the only son of the heir who had died in the rebellion.


    "Lord Lyonel is recovering and Lord Tully is well," Rhaegar replied.


    Elmo, relieved, inquired further, "Prince, with both lords well, do you have a strategy for dealing with the ckwoods and the Brackens?"


    His temperament mirrored that of his grandfather andte father: not possessing great skills, but brimming with cleverness.


    Rhaegar surveyed the hall, noting the absence of significant bannermen and ack of leadership.


    In response to Elmo''s question, he dered, "The ckwood and Bracken House have risen in rebellion and will face severe consequences."


    The room erupted in murmurs. Elmo''s eyes lit up with anticipation. With his father dead and his uncles being useless, Elmo stood to inherit Riverrun when his grandfather died. If he could use the royal family to subjugate the ckwoods and Brackens or take territory from them, his future as lord would be much more secure.


    "Robb," Rhaegar called, gesturing to his loyal supporter.


    Robb stepped forward, his head held high. Rhaegar continued, "At Lord Lyonel''s suggestion, we will negotiate with the two houses first. As Lord ckwood''s son and heir, you will lead the way."


    Rhaegar''s choice of words - "lead the way" - was deliberate. His gaze shifted to Elmo, scrutinizing him. "Your uncles have proved not being capable enough. As the ducal family of the Rivends, Riverrun should send a representative."


    Elmo hesitated, taken aback. Despite his knightly training, he had never seen the battlefield, living a sheltered life under the protection of his grandfather and father. Now he was being asked to represent his family against the rebels. The pressure was immense.


    Rhaegar tilted his head, a smirk ying on his lips. "What, you don''t dare?"


    Compared to House Brackenying siege to Harrenhal, House ckwood is much easier to deal with.


    With Robb leading the way, the pressure is off Elmo; if he backs down, three generations of the Tully family will be ruined.


    Elmo gathered his courage, the prince''s taunt spurring him on. "I will represent my house and convince the ckwoods to surrender," he dered loudly.


    Stepping forward in this capacity effectively positioned Elmo as the family''s heir. He had to rise to the asion.


    "Very well," Rhaegar said, sitting up straighter. "You will be the messengers to invite Lord ckwood to Riverrun for negotiations."


    Elmo was taken aback. "Lord ckwood''s army is stationed outside the city. Why would hee to us?"


    "That is not your concern," Rhaegar replied firmly. "Invite him here under the guise of a visit to the Targaryens."


    The ckwoods had been slow to attack, probably hoping to take advantage of the situation. The show of force by the three dragons was both a warning and a gesture of goodwill.


    With Rhaegar''s orders, Robb and Elmo had no choice but toply. "By the prince''smand, we leave now," Robb said crisply and turned to leave. Elmo hesitated, but followed.


    Once they were gone, Rhaegar turned to the Maester. "Write a letter inviting Lord Bracken to Riverrun and send it with a raven to Stone Hedge."


    The maester bowed and withdrew.


    Rhaegar''s n was clear: show courtesy before resorting to force. If the two lords came to Riverrun, they would be captured and sent to King��s Landing for judgment. If they refused...


    Three dragons were ready to make their presence felt over Riverrun.


    A dayter, at the ckwood House camp.


    Inside arge tent, Robb and Elmo were led in, bound and gagged. Waiting for them was a stern, middle-aged man with ck hair - Lord ckwood - and his eldest son, Samwell ckwood.


    When Lord ckwood saw Robb, he frowned and ordered, "Untie him."


    The ropes were removed and Robb immediately addressed his captors, "Lord ckwood, we are emissaries from Prince Rhaegar. He invites you to Riverrun to meet and negotiate."


    Despite his predicament, Robb refrained from calling ckwood "Father" to avoid furtherplicating matters.


    "Breathe and speak slowly, brother," Samwell urged, helping Robb to his feet.


    Robb nodded, "The prince wants to avoid unnecessary bloodshed and persuade the ckwoods to surrender."


    "Oh, he thinks he''s invincible because he has dragons?" Lord ckwood scoffed.


    Robb paused, then raised his head defiantly, "You can refuse, but if dragonfire rains down, I may end up inheriting yournds and your castle."


    "How dare you! Who gave you the courage to speak to me like that?" Lord ckwood shouted, pointing an using finger at Robb.


    Even if the family line were to die out, a bastard would never inherit. Lord ckwood realized that Robb''s provocation was deliberate, meant to force him to consider the consequences.


    Calming himself, Lord ckwood asked, "What does the prince intend to do with our family?"


    "I don''t know," Robb answered honestly.


    Samwell looked confused. "Brother Robb, you''re the Prince''s closest advisor. Hasn''t he given any indication?"


    Robb shook his head and said, "The ckwoods have not caused as much trouble as the Brackens."


    Samwell looked at his father, who was deep in thought. The implications were clear: the Brackens were the primary culprits.


    Half an hourter, Lord ckwood rubbed his temples and sighed, "I''m going to Riverrun to meet the Prince. Samwell, you will stay here and lead the army."


    "Yes, father," Samwell replied, concern evident in his voice.


    ...


    At the same time.


    In Stoneleigh City, the maester received a raven''s message and promptly delivered it to the Lord of Bracken, Amos Bracken. Amos, a square-faced young man with brown curly hair, read the message carefully.


    When he reached the end, his face contorted with rage. Tearing the letter to shreds, he cursed, "Damn them! Do they think they can trick me into entering Riverrun City? Do they take me for a fool?"


    The maester, standing nearby, cautioned, "Lord Amos, scouts report there are three dragons in Riverrun. It might be wise to meet with them."


    Amos red at him, "Nonsense! If I go there, I''ll be walking into a trap!"


    The maester sighed, bowing his head. Amos, still agitated, snapped, "Go and tell that fool to prepare more wildfire, and bring the priestess here. I need her counsel."


    "Lord Amos, Tru was a maester once. You should show some respect," the maester replied in displeasure.


    Amos dismissed him with a wave, "Stop arguing and do as I say!"


    The maester, feeling disrespected, had no choice but to leave with a sullen expression.


    Not long after, a voluptuous woman in red robes, a priestess from a foreignnd, arrived.


    ...


    Two Days Earlier


    Bloodstone Ind


    Aegon rose from his bed, his hair disheveled and spread out around him. He had spent the night indulging in various pleasures. Laenor, standing nearby, looked at him with a yful smile and held up a bottle of wine.


    "I found a bottle of Summer Red. Let''s share it?" Laenor suggested.


    Aegon, irritated and dismissive, threw on some clothes. "Keep your distance. I''m not interested in a man''s appetite," he snapped.


    Laenor''s preferences were known, but Aegon had not yet explored such inclinations. He was particr about his partners, and men were not among his choices.


    Laenor''s voice remained soft. "Rx, Aegon. You''re my cousin. I''d never touch you unless you wanted me to."


    Aegon, clearly still in a bad mood, grabbed the bottle from Laenor. "What good wine can there be on this ind? It''s not worth washing my cock with," he said roughly. He bit off the cork and, to Laenor''s horror, poured the wine over himself to clean up.


    "No!" Laenor eximed, clearly distraught. "This is Dorne''s Summer Red, aged ten years!"


    It was toote. The bottle was already empty, and Aegon threw it to the ground, shattering it. He looked at Laenor with dark, empty eyes. "Summer Red? Ten years old?" he repeated, mocking the meaning.


    Laenor''s face was a mixture of helplessness and frustration. "Yes, a bottle worth a hundred gold dragons."


    Aegon''s face twisted in a mixture of realization and indifference. "A hundred gold dragons? You should have told me sooner. My cock isn''t worth that much."


    Gritting his teeth, Laenor replied bitterly, "Then perhaps you should have chopped it off."

 Chapter 239: The Most Vicious Insult

    Chapter 239: The Most Vicious Insult


    Riverrun


    The rhythmic beat of drums echoed through the hall of Riverrun as Lord ckwood entered with a solemn stride.


    Above the hall, in arge chamber, Rhaegar lounged in a high seat, one leg crossed and his hand resting on his face.


    "Ah~," he sighed contentedly as Rhaenyra peeled a grape and offered it to him. He epted the grape with a look of mild surprise and chewed thoughtfully.


    Rhaenyra, unusually attentive today, rolled her eyes before returning to her seat.


    "Click, ck..." came the sound of stones hitting each other. Hena sat on her knees in front of a table, engrossed in a game with two stones.


    Below, Lord ckwood watched the scene - the three Targaryen heirs in their various states of distraction. Feeling the weight of the moment, he bowed deeply. "The ckwood House greets you, Your Grace!"


    Rhaegar smiled slightly and peeled a grape for himself, the hall otherwise silent except for the asional murmur of Hena.


    Lord ckwood sensed a rising tension and surveyed Robb and Elmo, noting that the atmosphere was far from ideal. The intimidation was palpable.After a moment''s contemtion, he adjusted his approach, "Princess, it has been a long time. May the old gods praise your beauty."


    He bowed respectfully and looked up at the table.


    Rhaenyra looked at him, a small smile ying on her lips. She shifted slightly, her embarrassment evident as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.


    The ckwoods had been her staunchest supporters, though their rtionship had grown distant since 111 AC. Still, the ckwood House continued to send annual greetings and gifts, a gesture to maintain their ties.


    Noticing Rhaegar still watching her, Rhaenyra sighed and replied formally, "May the old gods forgive your sins, Lord Ken ckwood."


    Lord ckwood, whose full name was Ken ckwood, felt a slight relief at her response. He then said, "Princess, the emissary from Riverrun has invited me here for negotiations. How may I be of service?"


    Eager to put the conversation on a more stable footing, he tried to discern the intentions behind the summons.


    Rhaenyra remained silent, deferring to Rhaegar, who began tapping his fingers on the tabletop. Finally, Rhaegar spoke, "Lord ckwood, your house has fought a private war with the Bracken House, refused royal mediation, defied the orders of your liege, Grover Tully, and even shed with the forces of Riverrun."


    Each point was punctuated by a tap of his fingers, the sound echoing like a drumbeat in the hall.


    Rhaegar''s hand stilled, his voice turning icy. "Lord ckwood, can I understand that you and your house are in rebellion?"


    Silence fell over the hall, heavy and foreboding. Lord ckwood stood in that brief, tense silence, grappling with the gravity of the usation.


    Ken''s heart skipped a beat as he regretteding to the trial. This wasn''t a negotiation - it was a condemnation.


    Swallowing hard, Ken spoke in a deep voice, "No! House ckwood is loyal to Targaryen rule and has no second thoughts."


    Under such pressure, he had no choice but to bow his head, and his words were sincere. Before entering Riverrun, he had seen the three dragons with his own eyes, especially the ck, colossal Cannibal, towering like a small fortress. Such extraordinary creatures were beyond human resistance.


    Rhaegar''s voice rose, "But you disobeyed the king��s order, attacked your feudal lord, and stationed troops outside of Riverrun without authorization!"


    With a thud, Ken fell to his knees and bowed his head. "Prince, those orders came from me alone. I alone bear the responsibility."


    When he came to Riverrun, he did not expect to leave unscathed. After insulting both the royal family and the Tullys, he knew there would be a price to pay.


    Rhaegar looked down at him with an indifferent expression. The quick confession was noted.


    "Rhaegar, we need the ckwood army to confront House Bracken," Rhaenyra whispered in his ear, offering a letter in her hand.


    Rhaegar''s cold demeanor softened as he read the letter from the Bracken family, detailing their refusal to admit guilt and their defiance. This was a house that called for stern measures.


    Following Rhaenyra''s advice, Rhaegar rose, walked to the edge of the room, and announced, "Lord Ken, you will return to King''s Landing alone to confess your sins. Your eldest son will inherit your title and lead the army to atone for these transgressions."


    He preferred not to deal harshly with nobles who confessed willingly. The final judgment was left to his father and the Small Council. Samwell ckwood, Ken''s eldest son, had already pledged loyalty and could serve as a sharp sword for their cause.


    Ken slowly closed his eyes and epted his fate, "Yes, Prince."


    He had anticipated this oue and the loss of his position, but it was a small price to save his house. Moreover, their longtime rivals, the Bracken House, were on the brink of destruction.


    With trembling legs, Ken rose and walked out of the hall, his back heavy with resignation. Robb, feeling a pang of sympathy, lowered his head, remembering the Prince''s words on the journey here-House ckwood must surrender quickly or face dire consequences.


    "Robb."


    Rhaegar called out, catching his attention.


    Robb lifted his head and responded, "Prince, what is yourmand?"


    "Take the men of the Second Sons and mobilize Commander Samwell''s army. March to Stone Hedge immediately."


    Rhaegar''s mind was clear and his n was already in motion.


    "Yes, Prince."


    Robb bowed and left to carry out his orders.


    Rhaegar then turned to Elmo. "Gather a thousand soldiers and block their retreat along the Red Fork River."


    Elmo, not daring to refuse, left quickly. He had just returned to Riverrun and now had to leave again without rest. The exhaustion was obvious, but Rhaegar did not care.


    Everyone had to work for the sake of their families.


    "Rhaegar, shouldn''t we return to Harrenhal first and discuss our strategy with Lord Leonor?" Rhaenyra stepped forward, her voice low.


    The ckwoods had 2,000 men, while Riverrun could barely muster 1,000. If both sides set out at the same time, it would take about a day and a night to reach Stone Hedge.


    "No need. We will rest in Riverrun tonight," Rhaegar replied firmly. He turned and smiled. "Lord Leonor''s allegiance is to a benevolent king, and his actions will reflect that benevolence. I have my own ideas."


    Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed through the room. Hena stood stunned, the stones she had been ying with shattering in her hands.


    "Broken," she murmured in confusion.


    Rhaegar nced over, curious. He took her hand gently, ruffling her lightly curled silver hair.


    Hena looked up, confused, and let him ruffle her hair with hisrge hands.


    "Never mind, I''ll ignore both of you." Rhaenyra said, unable to bear the sight of the siblings'' closeness. She gave Rhaegar a look before leaving.


    Rhaegar smiled, ignoring the meaning of her re. When you are a young man, it is important that you keep to yourself.


    ...


    A day and a night had passed.


    ckwood''s army had maneuvered into position. They were now camped five miles south of Stone Hedge, a castle located south of the Red Fork River, near the Inn of the Kneeling Man, High Heart, and Acorn Hall, and east of Riverrun. The castle itself was built on a hillside, with a ridge running along its south side, creating a natural barrier.


    Meanwhile, Riverrun''s army had reached the banks of the Red Fork River first, effectively blocking Stone Hedge''s retreat to the north. Despite the looming threat, Stone Hedge remained eerily silent, its gates tightly shut, the atmosphere tense and foreboding.


    "Roar..."


    Rhaegar arrived astride Cannibal, the dragon��s wings pping mightily as it descended. The wind whipped his ck robe around him��he had grown fond of this attire after his campaigns in the Triarchy Kingdom. The loose ck robe was fast, durable, and sturdy, perfect for battle. Anticipating a fierce sh, he had donned it in advance.


    Boom!


    Cannibalnded on the muddy ground, spraying dirt in all directions. As Rhaegar dismounted, Samwell rushed over.


    "Prince," Samwell said respectfully, "Amos Bracken it''s trapped in the Stone Hedge and cannot avoid battle. Shall we prepare for a direct attack?"


    Rhaegarughed derisively. "Amos talks tough in his letters and ims he will defend the castle to the death."


    The letter from Amos had been half a plea about the kingdom''s injustices and half a tirade against the ckwood House, refusing to admit any fault and eager for immediate war.


    Robb approached, his expression grave. "Prince, Lord Amos has forced many civilians into Stone Hedge, probably hoping to use them as human shields to deter you."


    "A despicable tactic," Rhaegar spat, then said firmly, "Send a message to Amos. Tell him to meet me at the city gates for a talk."


    Whether the conversation was sessful or not, the effort had to be made. If dragonfire ended up destroying the city, public opinion would favor Rhaegar''s attempt at diplomacy.


    "Yes, Prince," Robb replied, sending a bastard son of a knightly family loyal to the Brackens to deliver the message.


    After a tense wait, the messenger returned with news: Amos had agreed to meet, but with two conditions. They were to speak only under the battlements at the city gates, and Rhaegar was to bring only one dragon, allowing Amos to escape quickly if necessary.


    "Roar..."


    Rhaegar nced up at Syrax and Dreamfire circling above, their vertical pupils fixed on Stone Hedge.


    "No problem. I''ll meet him," Rhaegar said with a confident smile. He called for Robb and some guards to apany him.


    ...


    Arriving at the gate of Stone Hedge, Rhaegar and his retinue were met by a grim-faced Amos Bracken standing beneath the gate stacks, surrounded by arge group of soldiers.


    Rhaegar approached slowly, a smile ying on his lips as he approached the drawbridge. Cannibal eyes glinted from the shadows, its green pupils glowing with a menacing light.


    Robb followed close behind, sword in hand, proiming loudly, "Behold Rhaegar Targaryen, eldest son of Viserys I, Breaker of Shackles, Maker of Ruins, and the Heir to the Iron Throne!"


    Amos hesitated for a moment, processing the string of titles.


    Rhaegar, ustomed to such introductions, remained calm. In addition to his identity, the titles of "Breaker of Shackles" and "Maker of Ruins" were earned after the burning of the Triarchy, reflecting both awe and fear.


    With both parties now only five meters apart, Rhaegar''s expression hardened. "Amos, release the civilians in the city and you will be left with a whole body."


    Amos gripped the hilt of his sword, his voice defiant. "Prince, if you withdraw now, the Lord of Light will forgive your sins."


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow. "Has the Bracken House changed its beliefs?"


    Some lords in the Rivends believed in both the Old and New Gods, including houses like ckwood, Bracken, and Tully.


    Amos raised his chin arrogantly. "I have the protection of the Lord of Light. The gods have given me strength."


    He drew his longsword and pointed it at Cannibal with reckless bravado. "Targaryens are of fire, and the Lord of Light has given me fire."


    "From wildfire?" Rhaegar frowned, wondering if Amos was as foolish as he seemed.


    "Wrong!" Amos roared, seemingly emboldened. "Wildfire is but a product of alchemy. I have the aid of the Lord of Light."


    Foolishness! Rhaegar decided, losing interest in further dialogue. "Release the civilians, or Stone Hedge will be reduced to rubble."


    "They are my people; they will live and die with me!" Amos dered with a mad look. "The Targaryens are full of sin, you are also a abomination created by sin."


    Rhaegar''s face darkened, fury burning in his eyes. Even Robb stiffened, inwardly raging at Amos''s audacity.


    Seeing Rhaegar''s anger, Amosughed wildly. "You are full of sin and filth.. The king will assign you to follow the tradition and ept that even more abominable creatures are born."


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal roared, stretching its thick neck, its gaze locked onto Amos. The dragon''s green pupils glowed ferociously, sensing its master��s wrath.


    The humiliation cut deep. The Targaryen tradition, a point of contention for centuries, was rarely mocked so openly since the reigns of Maegor the Cruel and Jaehaerys I.


    Rhaegar''s purple eyes turned scarlet, mes dancing within. One thought consumed him.


    His voice was hoarse but resolute: "Dracarys!"

 Chapter 240: When the Sun Sets, Your Bloodline Will Be Over

    Chapter 240: When the Sun Sets, Your Bloodline Will Be Over


    Boom...


    A pir of ghostly green dragonfire descended, crossing the narrow suspension bridge and crashing into the stone city gate.


    "No! Get out of the way!" Amos Bracken, shocked by the approaching mes, shoved the guards aside and threw himself at the open gate.


    Zira...


    The relentless dragonfire slowly melted the stone gate. As the mes roared, Rhaegar, d in ck robes, stepped forward, his face cold and unyielding.


    Behind him, Robb and the guards fell to the ground, shielding their heads from the searing heat.


    "Roar..."


    The dragonfire ceased, and Cannibal let out a low, menacing growl, pping its pitch-ck wings. Rhaegar approached the city gates.


    The dragonfire had incinerated a group of soldiers, leaving only charred remains. The stone gatehouse above crumbled, its surface twisted and molten.Bang...


    Rhaegar kicked open a burning wooden gate and found Amos Bracken trembling at the foot of the wall.


    "Come out, Lord Amos!" Rhaegar''s voice was icy as he grabbed Amos by the cor and lifted him up.


    "Let me go, I am a follower of the Lord of Light!" Amos''s feet dangled from the ground, his eyes wide with terror as he struggled against Rhaegar''s grip.


    "It doesn''t matter who you follow. I have no intention of killing you now." With the rebel leader in his grasp, Rhaegar''s anger simmered, reced by cold determination.


    "Release Lord Amos!" The soldiers defending the city rushed down the stairs, forming a hesitant semicircle around Rhaegar. None dared approach, wary of the ck dragon ring at them.


    Ignoring the soldiers, Rhaegar spoke softly, "Amos, you have insulted me and you will not die easily. He threw Amos to the ground in disgust."


    Swoosh...


    Rhaegar drew his sword and pointed it at the cowering Amos. He looked at him with contempt, as if he were already dead.


    Before Amos and the assembled soldiers, Rhaegar made a chilling promation. "When the sun sets, your bloodline will be over!"


    His words were like shards of ice piercing the silence. A gust of wind ruffled Rhaegar''s long silver and gold hair. Amos and his soldiers fell silent, all eyes fixed on the young heir, their expressions a mixture of fear and awe.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were cold and detached, ignoring the fear, anger, and pleas around him. He turned and walked calmly out of the Stone Hedge, his ck-robed figure radiating resolute authority. No one dared follow or speak. The weight of his words hung in the air.


    On the suspension bridge, Robb stood and asked with suppressed anger, "Prince, shall we attack immediately?"


    "Let us wait," Rhaegar replied, his voice calm. "Let Stone Hedge have thest sunset."


    Robb was confused. "Sunset?"


    He looked at the guards, who shared his confusion. They hadn''t heard Rhaegar''s exnation, but his determination was unmistakable. The sun was still rising, nearing its zenith around 10 am.


    Momentster, Rhaegar returned to the army encampment. As he dismounted, he was surrounded by Samwell and other officers.


    "Prince, does the Bracken House intend to resist to the end?"


    "When will we attack the city?"


    The questions buzzed around him like flies. Rhaegar''s gaze remained fixed on a distant hill. He ordered, "Reinforce the patrol. Don''t let a single man escape."


    The officers, sensing an imminent battle, were ted. Only one noticed something different about Rhaegar.


    Rhaenyra stepped onto the muddy grass and grabbed Rhaegar''s shoulders. "Rhaegar, do you have something to tell me?"


    Their eyes met, reflecting each other''s determination. After a moment''s silence, Rhaegar blinked and smiled. He wrapped his arms around Rhaenyra''s waist and buried his head in her hair. "Nothing, just a trivial matter."


    "I can handle it for you," Rhaenyra whispered, holding him close.


    "Don��t worry, it��s just a dirty task," Rhaegar replied, lifting his head and pointing to the distant hill. "The evening sun will add much color tonight."


    Patting her slender waist, he released her and strode toward the hillside. In Rhaenyra��s uprehending eyes, he added, "Take care of Hena. We don''t need Syrax and Dreamfire this time."


    He alone would ride the dragon, bringing the Bracken House the dragonfire they deserved.


    ...


    Stone Hedge, Great Hall


    Amos burst through the door like a mad dog, yelling, "A maester, fetch me the maester!"


    A servant, head bowed, whispered, "My lord, the maester has disappeared."


    "Bastard, no sign of him at this hour!"


    Amos'' hair was disheveled, his eyes darted nervously around the hall. "Call the Red Witch and that stupid pig."


    "Yes, my lord."


    The servant, sensing his master''s unstable mental state, quickly retreated.


    Amos breathed heavily, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. The fear of Rhaegar''s words gnawed at him. He had to act or face dire consequences.


    He pulled a token from his pocket and clutched it tightly. Made of iron and engraved with a fiery red heart, it felt warm and heavy in his hand.


    "The Lord of Light will bless me..."


    Murmuring a prayer, Amos dashed out of the hall through a side door.


    The castle was eerily quiet. Servants hid in their rooms, a stark contrast to the usual bustle.


    Ignoring the silence, Amos ran to the forest of sacred trees in the center of the castle. The small forest, a few acres in size, was filled with pine and birch trees. In its centery the stump of a felled weirwood tree, its bright red leaves scattered like blood on the ground.


    Amos'' face twisted with conflicting emotions as he stared at the stump. The Bracken House had long worshipped the Old Gods, but the arrival of the Red Witch had changed everything. Her miracles in the name of the Lord of Light had overshadowed the glory of the Old Gods.


    Against the advice of his bannermen, Amos had cut down the sacred weirwood, abandoning the Old Gods for the Lord of Light.


    Treading on the red leaves, Amos steeled himself.


    Soon, the forest echoed with the sound of footsteps. Hundreds of soldiers halted at the edge, guarding their lord.


    Two distinct figures stood in the forefront. One was a towering, bear-like man in gray robes. The other, a striking red-haired sorceress, wore a beautiful red robe.


    "Lord Bracken," the Red Witch spoke, her voice a sultry whisper. Her white, lithe thighs peeked out from under her red robe as she moved, her tone inviting and seductive.


    The gray-robed fat man shivered and covered his ears, unable to bear the sound. His name was Tru, expelled from the Citadel for an idental wildfire outbreak during his experiments.


    Amos'' face was grim. Struggling to maintain hisposure, he asked, "Red Witch, can the Lord of Light you spoke of really make my army impervious to Dragonfire?"


    The Red Witch, shaken by his grip on her shoulders, gently ced a finger on his lips. Amos stepped back, confused.


    "Do not worry. The Lord of Light is the one true God. You must believe in His greatness," she said confidently. Bending down, she picked up a fallen leaf. "The old gods never protected you, but the Lord of Light shows you the future."


    She held the leaf up into the sunlight. With a whoosh, it burst into me.


    "Watch. This is your destiny," she said, throwing the burning leaf to the ground. The dry red leaves quickly caught fire, crackling as they burned.


    Startled, Amos kicked the leaves away and hid next to the Red Witch. She smiled at him, her eyes glowing.


    The leaves burned out, but the fire spread to the felled weirwood stump and ignited it. The Red Witch stepped forward and waved her hand over the mes.


    With a hiss, the fire roared to life and engulfed the stump. The Red Witch smiled and gestured invitingly to Amos.


    Half believing, half skeptical, Amos approached the burning weirwood and stared into the mes. The heat was intense, making it hard to breathe.


    As he watched, a vision formed in the fire. Amos'' tense expression rxed as he became mesmerized by the sight.


    No one knew what he saw, but he was convinced.


    The Red Witch ced a hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Do you believe now?"


    Amos nodded, spellbound. "I believe that the Lord of Light is the one true God."


    He suddenly remembered something. "Prepare the sacrifices, as many as needed."


    "Fifty will suffice," the Red Witch replied, her eyes shimmering. "But they must be pure bloodlines of the ancestors."


    "Who will meet the requirements?" Amos asked.


    "You recently married. I remember you have a bastard son."


    "Use him," Amos agreed without hesitation.


    "As you wish, my lord." The Red Witch bowed, her robe parting to reveal curves that glowed like mes.


    Amos watched her greedily before turning to Tru. "Tru,e here!"


    Tru approached reluctantly with a bitter expression on his face.


    The Red Witch walked past him and Tru quickened his pace, bowing his head. His intuition screamed that she was dangerous, very dangerous.


    Amos, still staring at the mes, ordered, "Prepare all the stored wildfire and tell the soldiers to carry it to the walls."


    Catapults were ready on the walls. Amos nned to use them to hurl wildfire at the dragon.


    Tru didn''t dare argue. He followed orders without question, his spirit was already broken by forced servitude.

 Chapter 241: Bracken’s End

    Chapter 241: Bracken��s End


    Time passed slowly, inching toward dusk.


    On the hillside, Rhaegary on the soft grass, hands behind his head, staring up at the sky. Beside him, the Cannibal rested with forepaws on the ground, neck stretched, eyes closed. Both master and dragon were rxed.


    As the evening breeze tousled his hair, Rhaegar shook his head slightly, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. He watched the ming clouds and the setting sun, waiting for it to disappearpletely. This would mark the end of Bracken''sst moments of peace and fear.


    Then, he would ride the Cannibal and replicate Aegon the Conqueror''s fiery destruction of Harrenhal. No castle, no matter how impregnable, could withstand dragonfire.


    At the base of the hill, the armies stood ready. Syrax and Dreamfirey prostrate, vigntly watching the Cannibal. The dragon exuded a dense and terrifying aura, mes building within its chest.


    "Sister, the sun is setting," Hena said, her wide eyes fixed on the horizon.


    Rhaenyra held her small hand, also gazing at the sunset. Rhaegar''s deration had spread throughout the army: Bracken''s end woulde at sunset.


    Getting no response, Hena shook her sister''s hand and furrowed her brow. "Brother is not happy. We must help him."


    Rhaenyra looked at her in surprise, taken aback by her sensitivity. After a moment of thought, she said seriously, "Rhaegar can handle it himself.""Oh, okay," Hena replied, frowning and kicking the grass at her feet.


    ...


    Stone Hedge


    In the forest of the sacred trees, green fire zed, apanied by the faint screams of agony and the sound of burning flesh. Outside the forest, Tru trembled with fear and looked around nervously before sneaking back into the castle.


    Inside the castle walls, chaos reigned. Soldiers frantically carried buckets of wildfire into the fortifications. Onemander shouted, "Tell the civilians to sift the sand! The moving wildfire needs a bed of sand!"


    Wildfire, an extremely unstable explosive, was stored in sealed wooden barrels lined with fine sand to prevent shaking and idental explosions. Tru moved with small, furtive steps, his eyes darting around as he kept his hands hidden in his sleeves, wringing them anxiously.


    Commanders and soldiers noticed the bear-like former maester. Onemander asked with a sullen expression, "What are you doing here? You should be in the cer making wildfire."


    "No, the Lord told me toe," Tru stammered, lying.


    Themander looked at him skeptically. "Why did the Lord call you for?"


    "I am the maker of Wildfire. I''m here to help you move it efficiently," Tru replied, his voice shaking. "All you need to move it is sand, and there''s no difference between coarse and fine sand," he added, lying down again.


    Coarse sand, mixed with stones and dirt, did nothing to minimize the shaking. But themanders and soldiers, ignorant of the intricacies of alchemy, epted his exnation without question. They were soldiers, not alchemists, and they followed orders without thinking.


    Themander pretended to think before agreeing. "Okay, let''s use coarse sand. Have the civilians bring more."


    Tru, his heart pounding, tiptoed away from the castle. He entered a hidden attic and found a secretpartment.


    Click!


    Thepartment opened and a letter appeared. Tru read it:


    "The Bracken House has been forced by a witch to turn their backs on their own beliefs and will be punished."


    "I''m leaving. There''s a secret passage in the stables..."


    This letter, left by the old Citadel maester, had warned of impending disaster and provided an escape route. Tru quickly crumpled the letter into a ball, stuffed it into his mouth, and swallowed it.


    He, too, was preparing to flee.


    ...


    Sunset.


    The sky turned golden as the sun set, casting a final red glow over the horizon.


    On the hillside, the Cannibal shook and spread its massive wings like a ck curtain against the sky. Its neck stretched forward and its green pupils shed with a fierce glow.


    "It''s time," Rhaegar murmured, pushing himself up from the grass and stretching his tired neck.


    "Roar..." The Cannibal let out a low growl, prostrating itself for its rider. It was eager to unleash its fury on the city below.


    "Good fellow, you are mypanion for life," Rhaegar said, stroking the Cannibal''s pitch-ck scales with a smile as pure as a child''s.


    It was hard to imagine what the Targaryens would be without their dragons.


    He climbed the softdder to the saddle and took a deep breath before yelling, "Cannibal, fly!"


    "Roar..." The Cannibal roared again, lifting its wings and soaring high into the sky.


    ...


    The sun hadpletely set. The moon was hidden, and the stars were scarce, shrouding Stone Hedge in darkness.


    "Keep your eyes open and be on the lookout for any enemies sneaking up on you!" barked themander dressed as a knight, patrolling the battlements and scolding the soldiers.


    The soldiers fell silent and patrolled their surroundings with torches. However, the darkness made it difficult to see beyond a limited area.


    A taller soldier whispered to hispanion, "Do you think the dragon will burn the lord?"


    Hispanion rolled his eyes in disgust. "Before the dragon burns the lord, it will burn the likes of us first."


    Fools, worrying about others.


    Suddenly, the sound of pping wings filled the air, causing the torches to flicker in the cool wind.


    "Be alert! The dragon ising!" the officer shouted, drawing his longsword.


    The soldiers tensed, held their weapons tightly, and stood back to back, staring into the darkness.


    But the sound seemed toe from nowhere, and the dragon was nowhere to be seen.


    A drop of cold sweat trickled down one soldier''s cheek as his body shook. He swallowed nervously. The waiting was agonizing.


    "Listen, the sound''s gone," one soldier said in surprise.


    The others pricked up their ears, realizing that the sound was indeed gone.


    "Maybe the dragon flew over the wall and ignored us," a soldier muttered hopefully.


    The soldiers began to rx, thinking that this was a reasonable assumption.


    Suddenly, a sharp teenage voice shouted, "Dracarys!!!"


    The temperature in the air immediately rose.


    "Roar..."


    A muffled dragon roar echoed, followed by ghostly green dragonfire descending upon the battlements.


    Boom...


    The dragonfire engulfed the soldiers, turning the night sky an eerie green.


    Arge, blurry figure appeared in the night sky.


    Above the Stone Hedge, the Cannibal''s dark form slowly circled, spewing eerie green Dragonfire like mist and water.


    "Ah!......"


    "Release the wildfire, the dragon is attacking..."


    "It''s toote, run!"


    On the wall, the Bracken soldiers screamed and wailed, writhing in the dragonfire.


    Rhaegar, d in ck robes, rode on the dragon''s back and surveyed the devastation below.


    His lips moved slightly as he murmured, "Burn them all."


    His words were cold and distant.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal roared, pping its wings and circling the city walls, unleashing Dragonfire repeatedly.


    Outside the city, three miles away.


    Samwell and Robb watched and waited patiently. A green fire zed brightly, growing steadily.


    Samwell''s eyes lit up as he shouted, "Charge! Surround Stone Hedge!"


    "Charge!"


    The soldiers rushed toward the Stone Hedge. Their mission was clear: block the gates and let no Bracken escape.


    ...


    Stone Hedge Castle.


    The outer walls of the city were engulfed in mes, the soldiers'' defenses useless as they were consumed by the dragonfire.


    A short distance away, Amos watched in shock. The giant ck dragon roamed the night sky, its dragonfire sweeping the city walls as effortlessly as a maid washing dishes.


    Amos snapped out of his stupor and shouted angrily, "Bring out the wildfire and aim it at the dragon!"


    He had anticipated that the soldiers in the outer city would not be able to stop the dragon. The mes were hidden, waiting for this moment.


    The soldiers obeyed hismand, carefully pulling out the wildfire and cing it on the stone-throwing carts.


    "Release!"


    With thatmand, a dozen stone-throwers fired in unison, aiming at the dragon in the night sky.


    Boom Boom Boom...


    The distance was too great; the wildfire missed and crashed into the outer city wall. The wildfire seemed to merge with the dragonfire, indistinguishable.


    This caught Rhaegar''s attention. With the help of the spreading fire, he saw the stone throwers positioned above and below the city. His eyes narrowed with understanding.


    "Cannibal, attack the inner city!"


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal stopped its Dragonfire attack, raised its wings, and flew toward the inner city, spewing fire at the stone throwers.


    The speed of the dragonfire was far greater than the soldiers'' attempts to start a wildfire. The intense heat caused the wildfire to detonate before it could even reach its target.


    The next second...


    A rumble...


    Buckets of wildfire exploded, echoing through Stone Hedge City. Green mes shot into the sky.


    "Ah! The wildfire exploded..."


    "It''s hot... Run away..."


    The wildfire spread even more fiercely than the Cannibal''s Dragonfire. In an instant, the walls of city were surrounded by zing wildfire.


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow at the unexpected benefit. Amos had indeed been foolish to think he could use wildfire against a dragon. Wildfire, an unstable alchemical product, was no match for a dragon that controlled the skies.


    The heat of the wildfire was unbearable, and the soldiers burned alive, screaming and writhing in agony.


    After pondering for a moment, Rhaegar gave the order, "Cannibal, fly to the castle!


    The sticky nature of the wildfire meant that once the city was surrounded, the people inside would never escape unscathed. He was going to the Bracken House castle to fulfill his promise.


    Today the Bracken House bloodline would be over!


    Cannibal pped its wings, its pupils shing with disgust at the wildfire, and flew away.


    The dragon found the foul, putrid odor of the wildfire nauseating, a poor imitation of its own Dragonfire.

 Chapter 242: The End of the Road

    Chapter 242: The End of the Road


    In the Inner City


    Hiding in a stone-built chamber, covering his mouth and nose with one hand, Amos cried out in panic, "Where is the Red Witch?"


    "I''m not sure, my lord. She seems to be performing rituals in the Godswood Forest," the knight replied, fear in his voice. "My lord, there are still many fires in the Ccity. We must flee quickly."


    The recent explosion was only from a few barrels outside. If the fire spread, the rising temperatures would ignite the forest fires stored inside the city. At that point, everyone would be burned alive.


    Amos looked desperate, grasping at straws. "Yes! There are still sacrifices. The Lord of Light will bless me!"


    Shouting, he pulled a token from his pocket. "Come with me, there are secret passages. We can escape through them!"


    As a member of the Bracken n, Amos knew of the numerous tunnels his ancestors had dug beneath Stone Hedge Castle for just such an emergency.


    As he led his men down the stairs, the temperature rose, the air thick with the stench of burning wildfire.


    "My lord, the wildfire is still in the cer," a soldier tending to the wildfire reported, rushing toward them.Amos shoved him away and ran toward a secret side passageway, yelling, "Never mind that! I have to find the Red Witch first."


    He firmly believed that once the Red Witch''s ritual wasplete, the Lord of Light would grant him the power to defeat the Targaryens and their dragon.


    None of the remaining soldiers dared to handle the wildfire, so they followed Amos, fleeing through the secret passage.


    Thousands of them moved noisily towards the escape route, a frantic procession.


    In the cer.


    The cery directly below them. As the soldiers'' footsteps increased, the stone walls of the cer shook.


    Click...


    Tiny bits of dirt shook loose and fell onto the sand-covered floor. Wooden shelves lined both sides of the cer, neatly stacked with barrels of wildfire, cushioned by sand.


    Knock, knock...


    The footsteps of the fleeing soldiers grew louder, causing the cer walls to shake slightly. Normally, this kind of shaking wouldn''t be a problem. The barrels holding the wildfire were rtively stable, cushioned with fine sand to absorb vibrations.


    However, half of the barrels were lined with coarse sand mixed with rocks and mud, creating an uneven cushion. As the shaking continued, the barrels bumped against the rocks and mud.


    They were in danger of exploding.


    Boom!


    A barrel of wildfire suddenly exploded, setting off a chain reaction as the remaining barrels exploded. Green mes blossomed in unison, a deadly dance of destruction.


    In the secret tunnel, separated by a mere wall, soldiers were still evacuating, packed tightly together. The explosion echoed.


    Bang!


    The tunnel erupted, wildfire spreading like a ravenous beast, consuming the entire passage.


    "Ah... wildfire!"


    "Don''t touch me, it''s burning!"


    "My face..."


    The narrow secret passage became an inferno, instantly engulfing hundreds of soldiers. Cries of despair and agony pierced the night.


    Outside the Secret Passage


    Amos, leading over 300 men, had already fled the inner city and huddled in a remote corner of the outer wall. They waited for more soldiers to appear, but a sudden heat wave swept through the passage.


    Buzz!


    A soldier halfway out was engulfed in the wildfire, his body lit like a human torch.


    "Ah! Help me, help me..."


    The mes consumed him and he fell back into the passage. The wildfire continued to rage, mes shooting over ten meters into the air. The searing heat wave knocked Amos and his men down.


    "Run, run!"


    Seeing the dire situation, Amos scrambled away from the exit, panic in his eyes.


    Half an hourter


    The wildfire''s fury began to subside, and soldiers slowly climbed to their feet. Amos turned back, witnessing the fall of the inner city. Wildfire burned from the inside out, green mes reaching tens of meters high, turning Stone Hedge Castle into a giant torch. In the night, it was a beacon of ruin.


    "It''s over, there''s no going back."


    Amos stood frozen, murmuring in disbelief. The inner city had fallen, cutting off their retreat to the castle. They were trapped between the inner and outer cities.


    "My lord, the only way out now is to break through," the Knight suggested, holding Amos''s arm.


    The Targaryen dragon was still circling in the night sky. Without an urgent escape n, they would be reduced to ashes before dawn.


    Amos gripped the token tightly, his knuckles white. "There''s an ambush by the ckwood family in the outer city."


    "Better to fight and have a chance to escape," the Bracken Knight urged, seeing no other option.


    Amos closed his eyes, fear shaking him. "All right, let''s break out!"


    "Lord Amosmands: open the gates and break through!"


    The Bracken Knight''s cry echoed, rallying the remnants. They moved to open the city gates and lower the drawbridge.


    ...


    Godswood Forest


    The sacrificial wildfire gradually died out, leaving only ash and bone fragments on the ground. The Red Witch knelt before the remains, sping her hands as she chanted, "Blessed be the Lord of Light..."


    As she recited a series of fervent prayers, her youthful face began to age. In a few short breaths, she went from a vibrant woman in her twenties to an elderly crone, her face lined with deep wrinkles.


    Unaware of the change, the Red Witch scooped up some of the ash and smeared it on her aged face, continuing to pray with intense devotion. The ashes spread evenly over her skin, covering her face and neck.


    Then a miraculous transformation took ce. The wrinkles disappeared, her skin became smooth, and she regained her youthful appearance, looking even younger than before, like a petite girl in herte teens.


    "Haha, it worked," sheughed sharply, feeling the change. "The fancy priest didn''t lie to me!"


    Herughter faded, reced by a cautious look. "I have to get out of here."


    Having achieved her goal, she knew it was time to save herself. As for her lover, Amos Bracken, he was nothing more than a foolish tool. Once used, he could be discarded.


    Rising to her feet, she lifted the hem of her red gown and ran toward the castle.


    After some time, the Red Witch, using the cover of night, reached the vicinity of the horse shed at the back of the castle.


    Rustle...


    A loud noise made her freeze. She quickly hid behind the edge of a well and peered out.


    In the darkness of the porch, a tall, stocky figure emerged from the haystacks, clumsily brushing off the straw and hanging his head in despair. The Red Witch recognized him at once: the ex-maester, a dim-witted fatman with traces of giant blood.


    An idea shed in her eyes. She called out, "Who''s there?"


    "Roar..."


    Instead of a human response, a muffled dragon roar answered her.


    Whoosh-


    The ck dragon pped its wings, creating gusts that scattered the straw on the shed as it hovered over the castle. On the dragon''s back, Rhaegar frowned as he heard faint sounds below.


    Looking down at the castle, he saw no lights, only an eerie silence.


    "Cannibal,nd," hemanded.


    Rhaegar decided not to act rashly and burn the castle immediately. His mission had a purpose:


    Take Stone Hedge Castle.


    Wipe out the Bracken House.


    Execute Amos Bracken.


    Taking the city was the first priority. Stone Hedge was a valuable stronghold, a noble territory with significant worth. Securing it intact was far more beneficial than reducing it to ashes.


    Boom!


    Cannibalnded on the horse corridor, crushing several fragile haylofts beneath its feet.


    As soon as he dismounted, Rhaegar spotted two figures hiding in the shadows of the porch.


    "Come out, or my dragon will breathe Dragonfire!" hemanded, his voice deep and authoritative.


    "Yes, honorable prince!"


    Tall and round, Tru stumbled out and fell to his knees in the mud. His escape had been thwarted by Amos'' orders to seal the secret passageway near the castle, trapping him.


    The Red Witch stepped out hesitantly, trembling. Her wide eyes were fixed on the massive dragon, her legs weak with fear. She cursed her luck, knowing that her earlier scream had drawn the dragon''s attention.


    Rhaegar''s brow furrowed in surprise as he observed the pair: a burly man in a gray robe with no maester''s chain, and a red-robed witch, a demonic figure of beauty.


    The Red Witch especially piqued his interest. She reminded him of another red-robed woman he had encountered in the Vale, one who had a Shadowcat as apanion and wielded strange powers.


    With that in mind, Rhaegar pulled out a ruby ne and addressed the Red Witch, "Do you recognize this?"


    His tone was deceptively simple, meant to test her.


    The Red Witch looked up tentatively, her eyes first on Rhaegar''s handsome face, then on the ne. When she saw the ruby, her eyes widened and she blurted out, "ming Red Heart!"


    "So you recognize it," Rhaegar said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.


    The Red Witch''s breathing quickened, her eyes filled with longing. "This gem is one of the heirlooms of the Temple of R''hllor, lost during thest Valyrian invasion of Lys."


    R''hllor, the Lord of Light, was widely worshipped in the free cities, with one of thergest temples standing in Lys.


    Rhaegar shook the ne in curiosity. "What does it do? Immunity to fire?"


    "No, no, no! That would be a waste," she replied, her voice trembling with excitement. "ording to the High Priestess, the ming Red Heart allows the wearer tomunicate with the gods and have their heart''s desires fulfilled."


    Rhaegar tossed the ne at her feet. "Try it and see what it does," he said indifferently.


    Cannibal, attuned to Rhaegar��s thoughts, bristled, its dragon''s maw pointed at the Red Witch, ready to unleash fire at a moment��s notice.


    The Red Witch, oblivious to the threat, crawled forward and grabbed the ne, her eyes glued to the ruby.


    "Great R''hllor, your faithful servant..." she prayed fervently, clutching the ruby in her hands.


    But nothing happened. The ruby remained cold, and no miracle urred.


    "How can this be?" she muttered, her eyes wide with disbelief.


    Growing impatient, Rhaegar demanded, "Did it work or not?"


    Cannibal lowered its head, its fiery breath heating the air.


    "Yes, it will," the Red Witch stammered, a chill running down her spine. Panicking, she added, "Perhaps it has been too long without a sacrifice, and it needs one to regain its power."


    Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed dangerously. "What kind of sacrifice?"


    Uncertain about the beliefs of foreign religions like R��hllor, he scrutinized her closely.


    The Red Witch, seeing a potential ally in Rhaegar, tried to smile. "The sacrifice is��"


    Suddenly, a sharp knife pierced her chest from behind, cutting her off mid-sentence. Blood flowed freely as her body froze in shock. She turned her head with great difficulty to see the frightened yet determined face of Tru, the disgraced maester.


    With a final twitch, she copsed to the ground, lifeless.


    Rhaegar watched with quiet interest, having seen Tru''s move but choosing not to intervene. The Red Witch''s failure to demonstrate the ruby''s power had rendered it useless.


    After killing her, Tru dropped the dagger in fear, his stomach heaving with deep breaths. Trembling, he picked up the fallen ruby and held it out with both hands, his voice tinged with desperation. "Honorable Prince, that woman was a liar. She killed many people."


    Tru had been forced to act, unable to let the Red Witch deceive and possibly harm more people. He understood the danger she posed, especially if she gained influence over a royal heir.


    Rhaegar, however, was only interested in the ruby''s potential for fire magic. The Targaryens had no need for ritual-theymanded dragons.


    Amused by the contrast between Tru''s hulking physique and his gentle demeanor, Rhaegar asked, "Who are you, dressed like a maester?"


    "Prince, my name is Tru," he replied, bowing his head respectfully. He exined his humble origins in the Rivends and his brief time at the Citadel, where he had studied until a failed wildfire experiment led to his expulsion.


    Rhaegar measured Tru carefully, impressed by his intellect despite his unassuming appearance. "Where are the members of the Bracken House hiding?" he inquired.


    "In the cer of the castle," Tru replied eagerly. "There are many civilians in the castle, driven there by Lord Amos. I can gather some men and capture the Bracken House."


    Rhaegar, intent on preserving the castle, agreed to Tru''s n. "Go ahead."


    "Yes, lord," Tru replied, setting out to carry out his orders.


    ...


    Outside Stone Hedge Castle


    The drawbridge lowered with a heavy thud, and Amos, nked by his soldiers, fled with desperate speed. The outer walls were engulfed in dragonfire and wildfire; even a stray spark could mean certain death.


    Under the cover of night, over 300 soldiers stumbled into the muddy grass, their path obscured by the darkness. Panic and confusion reigned as they struggled to find their way.


    Oooooooooooooooo...


    The mournful note of a horn echoed across the open meadow.


    Emerging from the night, 2,000 ckwood soldiers advanced, their presence a grim reminder of the futility of flight.

 Chapter 243: Exchange for Harrenhal

    Chapter 243: Exchange for Harrenhal


    A sharp dragon roar pierced the night air. Orange and yellow Dragonfire, interwoven with the sky, cut through the darkness, raining down on the soldiers of the Bracken House.


    "Ah!......"


    "There''s an ambush! Run away!"


    The Dragonfire''s intense heat and immense impact were irresistible. The already weakened Bracken soldiers were incinerated or scattered like dust.


    On the ground, Samwell''s army surged forward, crashing into the enemy ranks.


    "Make this quick! Don''t let any of them escape!"


    Samwell''s longsword swung with deadly precision, cutting down any soldier who dared to resist. His lean figure moved with lethal grace through the chaos.


    Above, two dragons circled, their presence casting a grim shadow over the one-sided ughter below. Two thousand ckwood soldiers against three hundred Bracken men��victory was inevitable.


    Twenty minutester, the melee ended. Every Bracken soldiery dead, with Samwell''s men ensuring none were feigning death."Let go of me, ckwood scum!"


    Amosy in a pool of blood, helpless and alone, struggling futilely against his captors.


    "Amos, good to see you again!"


    Samwell, eyes zing with fury, kicked Amos in the stomach, sending him sprawling.


    "Ah! Damn ckwoods!" Amos screamed, clutching his stomach in agony.


    Samwell, breathing heavily, grabbed Amos by the hair, pressing his longsword to his throat. "Amos, I killed your brother, and you won''t get away with it!"


    Amos''s brother had been thest Lord of the Bracken family. To curry favor with Rhaenyra, he had provoked several ckwood children. A teenage Samwell had in him in a tournament.


    "Little bastard, kill me if you dare," Amos spat, trying to salvage some dignity.


    "You think you have a chance to live?" Samwell''s grip tightened, ready to decapitate him.


    "Wait, leave him for the prince," Robb interjected, grabbing Amos, who had resigned himself to death.


    At the mention of Rhaegar, Samwell paused, his expression hardening. "It''s too merciful to kill him with one stroke."


    With a final kick to Amos''s face, Samwell vented his rage.


    The soldiers secured Amos to a gpole, their grim procession heading toward the burning city of Stone Hedge. The feud between the ckwoods and Brackens, as well as the personal vendettas, demanded more than a swift death.


    ...


    On the other side.


    Tru gathered over a hundred civilians and stormed Bracken House''s castle. After a chaotic smash and grab, more than ten nobles in fancy dress were dragged out.


    "Get out of here, you scum!"


    The peasants, filled with rage, hurled curses and assaulted the nobles with punches and kicks. They had been oppressed by the Brackens, and their hearts were full of fear and resentment. They wanted to burn the castle to the ground.


    The members of Bracken House, gagged and helpless, could only plead for mercy, which earned them more beatings.


    The Bracken House was utterly destroyed.


    Rhaegar circled over the castle on his dragon, Cannibal, closing his eyes to the night wind. The Targaryen was true to his word: if he vowed to end a bloodline, he would follow through.


    ...


    Half a monthter.


    A high tform was set up in a busy marketce. Lyonel, his arm in a sling, pointed to a crowd of people kneeling before him, fervently exining their crimes.


    "The ckwood House waged a private war and disobeyed the King''s orders..."


    After a long promation, he announced the verdict: "Ken ckwood is deprived of his lordship and is sentenced to death by garroting."


    Turning to Ken, he asked aloud, "Prisoner, do you ept the sentence?"


    "Yes, Lord Hand of the King," Ken replied in a low voice. "But I do not wish to die immediately. Please allow me to don the ck robe and guard the Great Wall."


    The crowd watched expectantly. Lyonel nodded and granted the request. The Kingsguard draped a ck robe over Ken and led him away from the execution ground.


    This decision was the result of long negotiations. Ken pleaded guilty, and the ckwoods ceded some territory near the Red Fork River. In exchange, Ken was allowed to live, and his eldest son, Samwell, inherited the title and thend.


    With the ckwoods dealt with, the Brackens were next. Lyonel dered their sins: waging war, disobeying the king, murdering Lord Graves Tully, Lord Tully''s heir, and defying the Hand of the King, Lyonel Strong.


    The Bracken House was sentenced to death. Every man, woman, and child was beheaded, and their heads were thrown into the moat. Amos Bracken, the chief culprit, was stripped of his title and territory, his clothes torn from him, and he was whipped all the way to the Dragonpit.


    On the journey, he was scorned by themon people and pelted with filth.


    When he reached the Dragonpit, covered in grime, Cannibal awaited him. The dragon''s mes burned him to ash.


    The people of King''s Landing knew of the Bracken House''s rebellions and transgressions. They became the epitome of traitors.


    Prince Rhaegar, who managed to put down the rebellion, was hailed as a hero by all.


    ...


    Red Keep.


    In the bedroom, Rhaegar sat at a table, head down, writing furiously.


    Knock, knock...


    There was a soft knock at the door, followed by Rhaenyra''s voice. "Rhaegar, I''ming in."


    She entered without waiting for an answer. Compared to half a month ago, Rhaenyra looked even more radiant. Her long silver-gold hair flowed smoothly, woven into a slender braid. She wore a fitted ck dress that revealed her ankles, and a pair of exquisite red-bottomed high heels.


    Rhaegar looked up at the sound of her voice, revealing dark circles under his eyes. He saw three blurry images of his sister.


    Supporting his head with one hand, he said, "Rhaenyra, I''m dizzy."


    "You are too tired. You should rest," she said, gently dragging her brother to the bed andying him down, rubbing his head.


    Rhaegar obediently closed his eyes and rested his head on his sister''s smooth, white thighs, savoring thefort. He hadn''t had a moment''s rest since breaking through the Stone Hedge. He had spent days cating the townspeople, dispersing the townsfolk at the gates, and holding back the remnants of Bracken''s forces. For three days, he had extinguished the fires in the city, sent men to clear the ruins, and cleared the streets.


    And that wasn''t all.


    Bracken, as a lord''s house, had numerous subordinate families and knightly houses. Some needed to be punished, others epted. Rhaegar had to oversee the Bracken vaults, granaries, and tax records, ensuring every detail was correct.


    It was exhausting. "Rhaenyra, if I have to do this every day as king, I''d rather abdicate to you," Rhaegar said, lying as still as a corpse.


    "You''re the only one who works this hard," Rhaenyra said, tapping him affectionately on the nose.


    These tasks shouldn''t be left to the heir alone. There were advisors for that. But the House Bracken, with its ancient legacy, demanded careful handling. Rhaegar trusted no one else with it. Managing the money, the food, and the ownerless Stone Hedge required his watchful eye. Without him, local nobles might take advantage of the situation.


    Checking finances and keeping records was the job of Lord Lyman Beesbury, the Master of Coin. But Lyman, old and inefficient, couldn''t keep up. Needing the resources of Stone Hedge, Rhaegar took on the task. Had he done it alone, he might have copsed from exhaustion. Fortunately, he had the help of his followers.


    After resting for a while, Rhaegar''s headache subsided. He rubbed his face against Rhaenyra''s smooth thighs forfort. This was how a prince should be treated. The corners of Rhaenyra''s mouth turned up and her eyes shed with triumph. Dressing up had been worth it.


    Rhaegar, understanding her motives, still enjoyed the warmth. He was tired and dizzy, but not stupid.


    Time passed quietly. Rhaenyra''s eyes sparkled as she asked softly, "Rhaegar, you seem so attached to Stone Hedge. Do you have any ideas?"


    Compared to the ckwoods, who lost only a piece of territory, the Bracken House was utterly destroyed. Their direct lineage was executed, and their titles, castles, and territories returned to the crown.


    Rhaegar sidled over, hugging her white thighs. "Yes, I want to find a territory for myself," he said.


    "You''re the heir, and the Prince''s Pce is still under construction," Rhaenyra said suspiciously.


    Rhaegar shook his head, saying no more. The Prince''s Pce was just a residence with scarce territory, poption, and resources. His true fiefdom should be Dragonstone, now given to Rhaenyra. He felt it was only right. However, he still needed a richnd for his fiefdom. The Rivends were ideal: fertile, populous, and close to the crownds.


    Seeing his reluctance to speak, Rhaenyra pinched his cheek and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "Rest now. There is a celebration banquet this evening."


    ...


    Nightfall.


    Inside the Red Keep, the lights glowed brightly, illuminating the steady stream of guests. Viserys sat at the head of the table, smiling broadly as he epted the ttery and toasts of his subjects.


    The long-dormant royal family had destroyed an ancient house of the Rivends in one fell swoop. No matter how much the nobles had despised the young king in the past, they now had to put aside their petty thoughts and show the respect due to his strong heir.


    After the toasts, the feast began. Rhaegar and Lyonel sat on either side of Viserys.


    Rhaegar was the first to speak. "Lord Lyonel, I have some business to discuss with you."


    "Go ahead, Prince," Lyonel replied, holding a wine ss, his expression turning solemn.


    Rhaegar hesitated, locking eyes with his father. Viserys broke into a smile and nodded. Father and son had discussed the matter beforehand and there was no problem.


    With his father''s support, Rhaegar said with a straight face, "Lord Lyonel, the Strong House served their kingdom faithfully, but Harrenhal was burned by the mob."


    Leonor took a sip of mulled wine, troubled by the situation. Harrenhal had been badly damaged and it would cost a fortune to repair. He was already considering borrowing from the Iron Bank.


    Seeing Lyonel''s distress, Rhaegar smiled. "The castle at Stone Hedge is still intact. What do you think about using it as a recement?"

 Chapter 244: The First Melting of Black Dragonstone

    Chapter 244: The First Melting of ck Dragonstone


    A few dayster.


    In the Rivends, at Harrenhal.


    After half a month, the five towers were still dark, and smoke wafted from the remaining ruins of various buildings.


    "Prince, are you sure the dragon... will work?" Lyonel asked, his face troubled, as he watched the Unsullied busily clearing the debris.


    At the moment, the Unsullied were hauling pieces of rubble from the ruins and throwing them into arge pit about a man''s height deep. Besides the rubble, the pit contained ashes pulled from the ruins and a dark, sticky pile of dragon dung.


    Dragon dung differs from the feces of other creatures. It has a faint odor and fewer solidponents. Being magical creatures, dragons'' bodies are infused with me elements. Once cows and sheep enter their stomachs, they are rapidly digested by potent gastric juices, leaving behind ck slime that resembles unheated magma.


    Rhaegar squatted at the edge of the deep pit, stroking his chin as he murmured, "It shouldn''t be a problem."


    He seemed to have thought of something. Waving to Grey Worm, who stood guard nearby, he hesitantly said, "There''s a bit too much dragon dung. Have someone scoop out some."


    "Yes, Prince," Grey Worm replied, calling for two Unsullied to scoop out the dragon droppings. Argedle, about two meters long, reached into the pit and scooped up a hefty portion of dragon dung.Rhaegar''s eyes lit up. "Almost there."


    ording to his knowledge of the blood sorcery [Dragonstone], it was roughly the ratio of a small amount of dragon dung mixed with arge quantity of stones and mortar.


    "Prince, using dragon dung to create ck stone... I''ve never heard of it," Lyonel said helplessly.


    Rhaegar replied thoughtfully, "Of course, it''s not just dragon dung. Dragon scales, dragon blood, dragon bones, and even stones stained with dragonfire are all essential forging materials."


    Dragonstone was an unorthodox magical artifact, and the melting process required a touch of magic. Dragons were high-level magical creatures, and each part of their body contained enough magical essence to melt Dragonstone. While dragon scales, blood, and bones were too precious, dragon dung was an abundant and inexpensive alternative.


    In the lore of "Dragon Stone," the Dragonlords of Valyria had used dragon dung to build ck stone wonders. It was sturdy, durable, and had no bad odor.


    With the ingredients ready, the show was about to begin.


    The Cannibal, hovering in the sky, slowly descended, scanning the deep pit with disdain. This was where the dragon dung came from.


    Rhaegar stepped away from the pit, approached the Cannibal, andmanded, "Dracarys!"


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal snorted, unleashing a torrent of dragonfire into the pit.


    Zira...


    Under the intense heat, the debris in the pit began to melt, mixing with the ashes and dragon droppings. Rhaegar ced both hands on the Cannibal''s scales, closed his eyes, and murmured a low incantation.


    Soon, the gurgling sound of boiling liquid emerged from the pit.


    The Cannibal ceased his Dragonfire, and Rhaegar opened his eyes.


    An Unsullied stepped forward to inspect the pit and eximed, "Prince, it seems to have worked."


    Rhaegar, thrilled by the news, rushed forward to see for himself.


    The materials in the pit had transformed into a bubbling ck magma. The temperature of the magma was not extremely high,parable to boiling water. There was no discernible odor.


    "Quick, bring the molds," Rhaegar shouted, instructing for stone molds about a meter long and half a meter wide to be brought over.


    The Unsullied used argedle to scoop the ck magma and pour it into the molds. As they worked, Rhaegar noticed a key characteristic of the substance��it solidified rapidly. As soon as it was scooped out, white smoke began to rise from thedle, and when poured into the stone trough, it quickly hardened into ck dragon stone, fitting perfectly to the mold.


    Rhaegar smiled, tapping on the surface of the ck dragon stone.


    ng...


    The sound was hard and solid, the material firm. Turning back to Lyonel, he raised an eyebrow triumphantly.


    "How is it, my lord?"


    Lyonel was too shocked to speak, his face a mix of awe and solemnity. Despite the magical element involved, witnessing this art in person was astonishing.


    Lyonel raised his trembling hand and said excitedly, "This method truly deserves to be called the knowledge of Valyria! It''s simply unheard of and unseen."


    In Westeros, current construction techniques still relied on stonemasons and masons. Stonemasons shaped boulders, while masons mixed mortar from straw ash and yellow y. This process was slow andbor-intensive; a single stonemason could work all day and carve only a few useful stones.


    ck dragon stone required only stone, mortar, and dragon droppings, fused together in moments and molded into any desired shape.


    Rhaegar''s eyes sparkled with anticipation. "That''s not all."


    He instructed the Unsullied to scoop out anotherdle of ck magma and pour it onto the molded ck dragon stone.


    Zira...


    When the ck magma met the ck dragon stone, a hot white smoke rose, quickly dissipating as the magma solidified and fused seamlessly with the stone. This demonstrated that ck dragon stone could be formed using an infusion method rather than traditional construction techniques.


    Lyonel looked stunned, nearly dropping his jaw in disbelief. It took him a moment to gather himself. Shaking his head, he chuckled, "Prince, no wonder you wanted to trade the intact Stone Hedge for Harrenhal."


    Harrenhal had been burned to the ground, rendering it unfit for nobility. At a dinner party a few days prior, Lyonel had agreed to the exchange of territories. The Strongs would move to the former Brackennds, inheriting Stone Hedge and most of its territory, while Harrenhal and itsnds reverted to the Crown, with Rhaegar receiving the title of Lord for life.


    Lyonel was pleased with the arrangement. Despite Harrenhal''s ruin, Stone Hedge, although smaller and less strategically located, was an excellent choice. The territory and its people were richer than those under the Strong House.


    Harrenhal held a significant position in Westeros, overseeing the Rivends, defending the Vale, and the Northern Realm. However, its history was cursed, with none of its past lords meeting a good end. Lyonel was more than willing to exchange his family''snd for Stone Hedge, reducing risks and reintegrating into the Rivends'' noble power.


    With these considerations in mind, Lyonel said, "Prince, the Strong House will take over Stone Hedge, and Old Lord Tully and I will ensure the stone supply needed to rebuild Harrenhal."


    Harrenhal''splex had been reduced to ruins, with only the five main towers and the city wall remaining intact. To smelt the ck dragonstone, a steady supply of stone was required. This task was undertaken by the Tully and Strong Houses.


    The Strong House, having traded primend for the royal family, naturally needed to contribute. The Tullys, on the other hand, needed topensate.


    With the ckwoods and Brackens at war and one openly rebelling, Old Tully, as Lord Paramount of the Trident and Lord of Riverrun, had nearly been captured by his own bannermen.


    His title was spared only because the Tully House had lost its sessor. While he had no great merits, he had endured much. Thus, Old Tully had to contribute a significant amount of stone to repair Harrenhal.


    ...


    After the sessful creation of ck dragonstone, Rhaegar had more pressing matters to attend to.


    Inside the Kingspyre Tower, Rhaegar took his seat at the high chair. Besides Lyonel, a few others joined him: Robb, Grey Worm, and Tru, the former maester.


    "Robb," Rhaegar called out.


    Robb knelt on one knee, his voice reverent, "Prince."


    Rhaegar exchanged a nce with Lyonel before continuing, "Robb, you distinguished yourself in the battles on Stone Ind and in the rebellion. I''ve asked my father for the recognition you deserve."


    Robb''s head lifted, his eyes full of excitement. He had already heard from Samwell, who had been made Lord of Raventree Hall, that the prince intended to honor him. It seemed that Rhaegar intended to make him a sworn knight, possibly paving the way fornd and a castle of his own.


    Lyonel cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the room. His eyes questioned Rhaegar, who nodded, allowing Lyonel to speak.


    With Robb''s eyes full of expectation, Lyonel solemnly announced, "By the King''s will and royal decree, Robb Rivers is granted the title of Lord of Stone Mill."


    "Lord!" Robb''s hands shook in disbelief.


    "That''s right, Lord of Stone Mill," Rhaegar confirmed with a smile. "Don''t worry, I''ll fund the construction of your castle from my private coffers. You won''t be living in a thatched cottage."


    Robb''s eyes welled with tears of gratitude. "Thank you, Your Grace, and thank you, Prince."


    Though it was the lowest title of nobility, it was still a title - far above the status of a sworn knight. Stone Mill, a territory ceded by the ckwoods, was fertilend on the north bank of the Red Fork River, ideal for farming and fishing.


    "Now, it''s not fitting for a man to cry," Rhaegar admonished gently. "With your new title, you can change your family name, design a family crest, and shed the identity of a bastard."


    "Yes, Prince!" Robb nodded vigorously, holding back tears.


    After the ceremony, Rhaegar signaled for Robb to take his leave. The appointment of Robb as a lord was both a reward for loyalty and a strategic move to win the support of other Second Sons.


    Stone Mill''s location between ckwood and Strong territory also served as a buffer to prevent conflicts. Rhaegar had no fear of Robb''s loyalty waning, as the territory''s strategic position ensured a delicate bnce of power.


    Next, Rhaegar turned his attention to Grey Worm.


    "Grey Worm," he called.


    Grey Worm stepped forward, striking the ground with his spear in salute.


    "Grey Worm, do you know how to train the Unsullied?" Rhaegar asked directly.


    Grey Worm hesitated, unsure how to respond.


    Rhaegar quickly rified, "I mean the physical fitness andbat training of the Unsullied, without the need for erasing individuality or castration."


    With a new territory, Rhaegar needed a strong armed force, and there were none better than the Unsullied.


    Grey Worm breathed a sigh of relief. "It can be done, but there is an age limit. Training is most effective before the age of sixteen."


    The Unsullied were trained from a young age, developing their unwavering discipline. Training older individuals, whose bodies and minds were already set, was far less effective.


    "Don''t worry," Rhaegar assured him. "I''ll support you fully."


    Among the freed ves were many children and teenagers. Additionally, Flea Bottom was teeming with orphans and bastard children. There was no shortage of potential recruits for their new army.

 Chapter 245: The Storm in King’s Landing

    Chapter 245: The Storm in King��s Landing


    After discussing the training program, Rhaegar outlined Grey Worm''s new duties.


    He tasked Grey Worm with relocating thousands of ves from outside King''s Landing to Harrenhal. Additionally, Grey Worm was to oversee the selection of new soldiers from Flea Bottom. True to his nature, Grey Worm was swift and efficient, leaving the hall immediately to begin his assignments.


    Now, only Tru, the disgraced maester, remained. Rhaegar had not interacted much with him but knew Tru was an introverted and timid man. Despite his demeanor, Tru possessed an impressive array of knowledge, earning chains of ck Iron, Bronze, Silver, and the rare Valyrian Steel��signifying expertise in Ravenology, Astronomy, Medicine, and Magic and ultism, respectively.


    The Valyrian Steel link was particrly prestigious, awarded to only one in a hundred students. Tru''s fascination with magic and the ult led him to secretly develop wildfire, resulting in his expulsion from the Citadel.


    When Rhaegar inquired about his aspirations, Tru revealed he had no grand ambitions. Instead, he preferred a quiet life, focused on scientific research. His current goal was simply to find a stable ce to live and work.


    Recognizing Tru''s potential, Rhaegar decided to utilize his talents. He assigned Tru to stay at Harrenhal, starting with the smelting of ck dragonstone. Rhaegar handed over the necessary spells to Tru, trusting him with the task.


    To motivate Tru further, Rhaegar made a solemn promise, "When Harrenhal and the Dragon''s Nest arepleted, I will write to the Hightower House and help you regain your position at the Citadel, restoring your status as a maester."


    The Hightowers, who controlled Oldtown where the Citadel was located, would likely honor such a request. Helping a disgraced maester was a minor favor for them.


    "Yes, Prince. I promise toplete the mission," Tru replied, his excitement palpable as his belly trembled.For Tru, amoner who had risen to be a maester, regaining his diploma was the highest honor. It was more important to him than anything else.


    ...


    Nightfall


    Bonfires zed along the walls of Harrenhal, pushing back the encroaching darkness.


    Rhaegar rode his dragon, Cannibal, towards the north shore of Lake God''s Eye. The shore was illuminated by firelight, where a makeshift lumber mill had been set up. Strongborers carried timber to the carpenters, their silhouettes flickering in the firelight.


    "Come on, Cannibal," Rhaegar murmured, his gaze lingering on the bustling scene for a moment before he directed his dragon to take flight towards the Isle of Faces.


    The Dragon''s Nest had been a childhood dream of his. Now, the geothermal heat of the Isle of Faces made it the ideal location to bring this dream to life. However, transporting the necessary materials required ships.


    The timber mill was the first step in this process, with ns for a shipyard and dock to follow. During the reign of Harren the ck, shipyards and docks had been constructed on the north shore of God''s Eye, used to repel enemies approaching from both sides of theke. These defenses had caused significant losses to Aegon the Conqueror''s forces. But Rhaegar had no intention of building a navy. His sole aim was to secure ships for transporting materials to the Isle of Faces.


    Cannibal soared over the expansive waters of Lake God''s Eye, eventually descending above the Isle of Faces. With a powerful p of its wings, the dragonnded gently. Rhaegar dismounted and made his way directly to the Hot Spring.


    Over the past month, the Hot Spring had undergone a remarkable transformation. Once the size of a small basin, it had expanded to several meters in diameter. A fishbeam tree had been engulfed by the spring''s range, its entire root system submerged, turning it into a tree in the water.


    The spring''s water was crystal clear, steaming with white vapor. The roots of the fishbeam tree clung to the ground, while the human-like face carved into its trunk twisted in a hauntingly beautiful manner.


    "Ah, the underground temperature keeps rising. A dragon''s nest here is definitely feasible," Rhaegar breathed out, taking off his clothes as he approached the hot spring.


    With a ssh, he jumped into the water, leaning against the tree''s rhizome and closing his eyes in contentment.


    "Ahhh..." he sighed, the hot water soothing his muscles as he stretched out his legs. The spring''s heat was perfect for him, gradually lulling him into a drowsy state.


    ...


    King''s Landing


    The Red Keep, the King''s Chambers


    After a round of passionate exertion, the room was filled only with the sound of ragged breathing. Viserysy on his back, chest heaving, too exhausted to open his eyes. He often found himself grateful to his eldest son, feeling as if his body were twenty years younger since the festering wounds had healed.


    "Viserys, I''ve lost my voice. Get me a ss of water..." Alicent murmured, nestled in her husband''s arms. Her skin, even more radiant than that of a young girl, flushed a delicate pink. Her voice was hoarse, a soft request escaping her lips.


    Despite her distaste for her husband''s often sullen demeanor, she couldn''t ignore the feeling that she was destined to bear him five children.


    "Drink slowly, Alicent," Viserys gasped, lovingly supporting her as he poured a ss of water and brought it to her lips.


    Alicent drained the ss in one gulp, the tip of her tongue lingering around the rim.


    Viserys watched, his heart swelling and his vigor returning.


    "Viserys, there''s something I want to talk to you about," Alicent said, her breathing steadying as she prepared to broach the subject.


    Gathering her closer, Viserys replied contentedly, "Tell me."


    He had sensed this conversation was imminent, given Alicent''s initiation of it.


    "The children are getting older, and I want you to think about their futures," Alicent began, her delicate face looking up at him imploringly. "Rhaegar, as the eldest, has the Prince''s Pce and Harrenhal, and Rhaenyra has Dragonstone as a fiefdom. The other children have nothing."


    Her fear was palpable. The first two heirs enjoyed the privileges of the court, while her children were left without.


    Well, almost nothing. Aegon had been appointed as amander at the Stepstones, but it wasn''t enough.


    Viserys lowered his eyes and tried to remain calm. Reason prevailed. He understood Alicent''s concern and acknowledged the imbnce in the treatment of their children.


    As a father, he had failed to be fair. As king, the bnce was even more skewed.


    Rhaenyra and Rhaegar were the offspring of histe wife Aemma Arryn and held a special ce in his heart. Emotionally, they eclipsed his other children.


    Rhaenyra''s abdication as heir had been a significant sacrifice, one he had tried to make up for.


    Rhaegar, the eldest son, was the heir to the kingdom. He was also the Targaryen dynasty''s most capable heir at the moment.


    At the age of thirteen, he had led a sessful campaign against the Triarchy and crushed the rebellion in the Rivends.


    Such achievements marked him as one of the greatest prodigies in the history of House Targaryen. If he didn''t die young or sumb to madness, he would undoubtedly be a brilliant ruler.


    Viserys was willing to use all his resources to support such a promising pair of children.


    Seeing his hesitation, Alicent reached out, rubbed his beard, and spoke softly, "Aegon''s working hard in the Stepstones, and he''s almost the same age as Rhaegar, isn''t he?"


    Hena and her two young sons were too young to consider, leaving Aegon as the only viable son. Despite his usual profligacy and unruly behavior, Alicent didn''t see Aegon as useless.


    After all, both Viserys and Daemon had indulged in the pleasures of King''s Landing''s brothels in their youth and turned out reasonably well. Aegon, after all, had been to war and ridden a dragon.


    In terms of ability, he was several times better than the heirs of many great families.


    Viserys hesitated, thinking deeply. To him, Aegon didn''t seem fit to be king. As a prince and lieutenant, he might be a better choice.


    "Do you think Aegon deserves a feud?" Viserys asked directly, his eyes piercing.


    Alicent''s face lit up as she nodded gently.


    Viserys rubbed his brow and sighed, "If you had told me earlier, I might have kept the Stepstones for him. As it is, the realm has no suitable castle for Aegon."


    A fief was not easily granted. As a prince, Aegon needed a castle, a pce, and enough servants and lords to maintain royal dignity.


    If there was no spare castle, he''d have to grant an undeveloped piece ofnd, requiring extensive work to make it livable. It seemed easier for Aegon to stay in King''s Landing as a prince in leisure.


    Alicent understood this and had a n. Sitting up, she looked him in the eye and said seriously, "The Battle of the Stepstones is nearly over, and Aegon can remain there."


    She always remembered Jeyne''s analysis: the Stepstones were crucial, situated between two continents and a major shipping route. With the Triarchy in decline, the danger had significantly decreased.


    With Aegon in the Stepstones, the treasury would naturally fund the construction of a fortress and maintain a strong presence. It was a perfect fiefdom.


    Viserys was momentarily stunned. "The Stepstones!" he murmured.


    It was a ce rife with disputes, but he had someone in mind who was more suited for it. It could be a form of mutualpensation.


    Alicent gently shook his shoulder and urged, "Viserys, what do you think?"


    "It''s a good suggestion. Let me think about it," Viserys replied, rolling over to cuddle his wife and closing his eyes.


    Viserys was not a man of swift decisions but rather one prone to dy.


    ...


    Flea Bottom


    Inside a Brothel


    Several ck-robed figures entered the dimly lit brothel, moving quickly toward a secluded room on the second floor.


    The door creaked open to reveal an elegant woman with a delicate figure, draped in a thin veil. She sat gracefully, exuding an air of quiet authority.


    "White Worm, I''ve heard much about you," said the lead figure, lifting his hood to reveal Otto''s stern face.


    Mysaria ced her hands on herp, her gaze unwavering. Her voice, both maic and hoarse, replied, "Lord Otto, your reputation precedes you as well."


    Otto''s reputation had suffered greatly as a result of the street-cleaning program, and his name had be synonymous with controversy throughout King''s Landing.


    "Heh, I''ll take that as apliment," Otto said, his eyes twinkling as he took a seat across from Mysaria.


    Her expression remained unchanged, calm and impassive. "Lord Otto, what brings you here?" she asked.


    "White Worm Mysaria, the most elusive figure in Flea Bottom, yet privy to the city''s secrets," Otto began, his tone candid. "I need a spymaster. Will you work for me?"


    "I��m afraid I cannot," Mysaria replied without hesitation. "I have my own allegiances."


    Otto''s eyes narrowed as he responded frankly, "Prince Daemon is in jail and won��t being out anytime soon."


    The upper echelons of the court knew that Mysaria had once been Daemon��s mistress. In 105 AC, shortly after Queen Aemma Arryn died giving birth to Rhaegar, Daemon had famously referred to Rhaegar as the "Heir for a day" while celebrating in a brothel with Mysaria and others.


    Mysaria had been pregnant with Daemon��s child at the time, and he had been overjoyed, going so far as to find a dragon��s egg to ce in the cradle of his unborn child.


    The egg had originally been intended for Rhaegar, and Rhaenyra had ridden Syrax to Dragonstone to retrieve it from Daemon. This incident had infuriated King Viserys, who valued the egg deeply. As a result, Viserys had not only banished Daemon from King��s Landing but also ordered him to send Mysaria back to Lys.


    Daemon, unable to withstand the pressure, hadplied. Tragically, during her sea voyage, Mysaria��s ship encountered a storm, resulting in the miscarriage of her unborn child. This incident had been a significant factor in the first major rift between Viserys and Daemon.

 Chapter 246: Unexpected Poisoning

    Chapter 246: Unexpected Poisoning


    Late at Night


    Otto, d in ck robes, left the brothel and entered the waiting carriage, protected by his guards.


    "My lord, the White Worm is nothing more than a whore," the young servant who drove the carriage grumbled in obvious indignation.


    Otto removed his hood, his eyes calm. "Even if she is a whore, she is a whore with skills," he said lightly.


    "She barely acknowledges your goodwill and acts as if she''s your equal," the young squire continued, still offended. As a member of the Hightower House, the nephew of Otto''s cousin, he felt a sense of indignation at seeing his uncle bend over backwards for a prostitute.


    Otto''s gaze was deep, his tone measured. "Look at the long term. The White Maggot is just a minor yer; the real focus is on the people behind her."


    The Targaryen heirs were growing in number and influence, each one a potential yer in the kingdom''s future. Otto saw the need to n for princely positions. Rhaegar''s grant of Harrenhal had set a precedent, and the other heirs would soon make their moves. Preparing in advance was crucial for maintaining influence at court.


    His nephew drove the carriage with a half-understood nod. As they neared the edge of Flea Bottom, a mocking voice sounded.


    "Master of Piss and Shit, go eat shit!"The young servant recoiled and looked around in shock.


    St!


    A bucket of feces and urine fell from above, sshing on the roof of the carriage.


    "Who the hell did that?!" the squire yelled, drenched and furious, drawing his sword.


    "Stop, don''t make trouble," Otto ordered. "Hurry up and leave. The White Worm will take care of this."


    Suppressing his anger, the young attendant gritted his teeth. "Yes, my lord."


    He whipped the horse, speeding out of Flea Bottom, leaving behind the jeering crowd. Inside the carriage, Otto covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief, his eyes sweeping over the soiled carport. Slowly, he closed his eyes.


    King��s Landing was a city filled with the stench of poverty and desperation. Refugees from all over the Seven Kingdoms flocked to the capital, hoping for a better life. This influx strained the city''s security and exacerbated tensions between nobles andmoners.


    As Master of Civil Affairs, Otto had taken on the responsibility of cleaning up the streets. His efforts had touched a nerve among the impoverished, leading to widespread resistance. After several failed attempts, he devised a localized approach.


    The poor resisted the nobles'' management, so he sought out individuals from their own ranks to lead them. The White Worm was a grassroots figure with notable talents, one of the main reasons he had gone to such lengths to bring her into his fold.


    ...


    The Next Day


    Viserysy in bed, contentedly cuddling his beautiful wife, lost in a dream he hated to leave. Alicent, resting on his arm, listened to his familiar snoring, her mind lost in thought. She had been awake all night, nning for the future of her children.


    A knock at the door broke the morning silence. "Your Grace, an urgent report from Stepstones!" came Erryk''s voice from the hall.


    Alicent blinked, shaking herself from her reverie. She shook her husband gently, her voice hoarse fromck of sleep. "Viserys, there''s a letter from Stepstones. Wake up."


    Viserys groggily tried to sit up, only to find his right arm numb from his wife''s weight. Alicent got up with a worried look on her face, slipped into her nightgown, and opened the door.


    Erryk stood there, his expression grave. "Your Grace," he nodded.


    "Come in, tell him what you have," Alicent said, stepping aside to let Erryk enter.


    Erryk entered, his eyes averted out of respect. He presented a letter to the king, who was still struggling to fully wake up.


    "All right, give it to me," Viserys muttered, taking the letter and tearing it open.


    As he read the contents, his expression changed dramatically. "Vaemond Vryon is dead!" he cried out in shock. "Vaemond is dead!"


    Alicent''s eyes widened. "Ser Vaemond?" she asked, equally surprised. Vaemond was the younger brother of Corlys Vryon, the Sea Snake, and they were known to be very close.


    Viserys nodded, his face grave. "The letter says Vaemond felt abdominal pains some time ago. At first, he didn''t think much of it, but it kept getting worse. Two nights ago, he copsed in agony, his abdomen swollen like a basin, and he died in terrible pain."


    Alicent''s mind raced. "What about Aegon? Is he alright?"


    Viserys reassured her. "Aegon is fine. But Vaemond''s death is strange. It doesn''t seem like a natural illness."


    The manner of Vaemond''s death was eerily familiar to Viserys. His father, Baelon Targaryen, had died in a simr way after a hunting trip, his abdomen swelling painfully before his death.


    Alicent gasped. "Could it be poison?"


    "Possibly," Viserys said, his voice heavy. "There are many poisons in Lys. We can''t rule it out."


    He sighed deeply. "I heard that Lord Corlys has woken up. Vaemond''s body will be returned to Driftmark for a funeral, and the royal family is expected to attend."


    Alicent nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I''ll make the arrangements," she said, summoning a servant to notify Grand Maester Mellos and send ravens with the news.


    ...


    At the Same Time


    Rhaegar awoke from his sleep after spending the night soaking in a hot spring. His eyes were still clouded with confusion as he emerged from the water.


    "Roar..."


    Sensing his awakening, the Cannibal, his dragon, rose from a nearby clearing and let out a low, rumbling growl.


    Rhaegar stretched, feeling the wrinkled texture of his soaked skin. "I''m all cut up," he muttered, scratching at his long, wet hair. He pulled on his robes, mounted the dragon, and flew back to Harrenhal.


    As soon as hended, he saw the big, chubby Tru hurrying toward him.


    "What happened?" Rhaegar asked, unable to suppress a chuckle at Tru''sically fast pace.


    Panting heavily, Tru handed him a letter. "A message from Stepstones, Your Grace. I came to find you first."


    Rhaegar''s demeanor changed instantly. He grabbed the letter and read it quickly.


    The letter was from Tormund, who had remained on Bloodstone Ind. It detailed Vaemond''s death and the circumstances surrounding it, suggesting that he had most likely been poisoned.


    Crushing the letter into a ball, Rhaegar thrust it back at Tru and said urgently, "Oversee the work at Harrenhal. Get Robb to help you. I''ll go back to King''s Landing."


    "Yes, Prince," Tru replied, catching the ball of paper and nodding vigorously.


    Without another word, Rhaegar mounted the Cannibal and took off, flying back to King''s Landing.


    ...


    Within the hour, the Cannibal had flown from Harrenhal back to King''s Landing. Harrenhal''s strategic location was vital-it blocked the nobles from the Rivends and used the fast-flowing rivers of the Three Forks to keep the armies of the Vale and the North at bay. Most importantly, it was in close proximity to King''s Landing.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal circled over King''s Landing, roaring to announce its return. Itnded in the Dragonpit, and Rhaegar dismounted, intending to head straight to the Red Keep.


    "Prince, wait a moment."


    A ck-robed figure emerged from a shadowed corner, moving with a light step. Rhaegar turned to see Syrio, his trusted agent, whose fluffy brown curls peeked out from under his hood.


    "Any rumors in King''s Landingtely?" Rhaegar asked.


    Syrio managed a group of skilled operatives who specialized in gathering intelligence in King''s Landing.


    "Indeed," Syrio replied with a smirk. "The high and mighty have been sttered with shit, thinking they can work with worms."


    Rhaegar frowned. "Worm? Otto found someone to coborate with?"


    Syrio exined, "White Worm, also known as Mysaria, a prostitute from Lys and Prince Daemon''s former mistress. She organizes thergest intelligencework in King''s Landing, though her allegiances remain unclear."


    Rhaegar''s brow furrowed further. "Look into the White Worm."


    "To stop Otto from working with her?" Syrio inquired.


    Rhaegar shook his head. "No need. It''s time for the King''s Landing reorganization n to be put on the agenda. Let Otto handle that. As for the White Worm... no matter how much information she gathers, she can''t stand against true power struggles."


    ...


    The Red Keep


    Rhaegar walked into the Red Keep and ascended the stairs of Maegor''s Holdfast. Around a corner, he encountered a slender, middle-aged man with a shaved head.


    "Prince, can I help you?" the man asked.


    "No, Lord Caswell," Rhaegar replied, sidestepping with a polite nod.


    Lord Caswell, from the Caswell House of Bitterbridge in the Rivends, loyal to House Tyrell, nodded slightly and made way.


    Reaching the upper floors, Rhaegar headed to the King��s chambers, where he found his father, Viserys, at breakfast.


    "Father, Lord Vaemond has been killed."


    Rhaegar used the word "killed" deliberately.


    Viserys, cutting into sizzling mutton, chewed thoughtfully before replying, "I know. We''ll be going to Driftmark soon for the funeral."


    "I''m d you know," Rhaegar said, noting his father''s calm demeanor.


    His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn''t eaten. With a bitter smile, he moved a chair and joined his father at the dining table.

 Chapter 247: King’s Landing’s Plan of Reconstruction

    Chapter 247: King��s Landing��s n of Reconstruction


    The table wasden with beef stew, roastmb, cream cake, and a bottle of red wine with the cork pulled.


    Rhaegar''s appetite was immense. He grabbed a piece of beef and muttered, "Father, you eat so well this early in the morning?"


    "I am a king, after all," Viserys said with a smile, taking a sip of wine. "With the burdens I carry, it is a small pleasure to indulge in good food."


    He patted his rounded belly, a testament to his indulgence.


    "You have a point," Rhaegar agreed, taking arge bite of food. Being king did have its perks, though he worried about his father''s health with such a rich diet.


    As they ate, father and son chatted, enjoying their little gathering. Halfway through the meal, Rhaegar pulled out a list and handed it to his father, who had just finished his wine.


    "What''s this?" Viserys leaned back in his chair and took the list.


    "It''s my n for improving King''s Landing," Rhaegar exined.


    Intrigued, Viserys read the list:1. Eliminate rats, deodorize, and sealplex secret passage entrances and exits in the Red Keep.


    2. Repair and excavate King''s Landing''s sewers to facilitate proper sewage disposal.


    3. Expand areas, repair public toilets, and hire septic workers and septic carts.


    4. Organize Flea Bottom, take in a group of orphans, women, and children, and organizeborers for construction work.


    5. Selectnd in the Crownds and organize the poor to cultivate it, providing royal subsidies and tax relief.


    Viserys frowned at the first three items, his expressionplicated. "Rhaegar, your n is ambitious. Otto has been trying to clean up the streets of King''s Landing, but his efforts have been ineffective and have drawn criticism from themon folk."


    "Andst night a wagonload of filth was thrown at him," Viserys added, grimacing at the memory.


    Rhaegar had anticipated his father''s concern. "The key is sewers and public toilets. If we provide convenient facilities, people won''t have to dump their waste in the streets."


    The concept of public toilets was foreign to Viserys. Rhaegar continued, "Public toilets were an idea I saw in a dream. They fit our needs perfectly."


    Much of Otto''s failure stemmed from banning open defecation without providing an alternative. Building public toilets and hiring waste collectors would solve the problem. Though it seemed simple, it was a revolutionary proposal.


    Viserys considered it carefully. With public toilets, people would have a proper ce to dispose of their waste. Anyone caught defecating in the streets could then be properly punished.


    "There''s only one thing," Viserys thought.


    Viserys hesitated. "Repairing the sewers, public toilets, and hiring workers will cost a considerable amount of money."


    King''s Landing had sewers, but they had long been neglected and were mostly clogged. Repairing the public toilets required funds for materials andbor. Hiring septic tank emptyers and haulers would further drain the treasury.


    Rhaegar pointed to the remaining two suggestions, his tone thoughtful. "We could hireborers from Flea Bottom to do the work in exchange for food."


    People were dying of starvation and exposure every day in King''s Landing. This food-for-work approach would save money and help the refugees-a win-win.


    Viserys pondered. His eyes fell on thest suggestion, and he instinctively bristled. "Dividing the king''s uncultivatednd among the refugees..."


    "I don''t mean give it away," Rhaegar rified. "We''d hire them to farm it. The Crown would provide tools and food, and the refugees would be tenants directly under the Crown, paying annual taxes."


    This proposal wasn''t far from the typical lord-and-peasant rtionship. The Crownds had plenty of wastnd and the Kingswood held untapped resources. Instead of letting it sit idle, turning it into productive farnd could stabilize tax revenue and eventually fill the royal coffers. Most importantly, it would alleviate overcrowding in King''s Landing.


    Viserys fell into deep thought, weighing the feasibility of the five ns. The War for the Stepstones had drained resources, and the construction of the Prince''s Pce was another financial drain. Adding sewer repairs, the construction of public toilets, andnd remation would further drain the treasury, even if it was currently full.


    Rhaegar didn''t press the issue. He finished his meal and left the pce quietly. His father was the king, and it was his decision to implement the new policies or not. Rhaegar offered his ideas without insisting. The Iron Throne would be his eventually, and he could implement the new policies then.


    For now, his priority was to repair Harrenhal and build the Dragon��s Nest.


    ...


    Dawn.


    Viserys emerged from his thoughts, feeling dazed and confused. He scanned the table; the servants had already cleared away the remains. At some point, Rhaegar had quietly left.


    "Erryk," Viserys called, rubbing his tingling legs as he stood.


    Creak...


    The door opened and Erryk stood at attention. "Your Grace, what is yourmand?"


    Viserys folded the list andbed his hair with his fingers, speaking calmly. "Go to the dungeon. I want to see that white-eyed wolf."


    "Yes, Your Grace," Erryk replied, his face impassive as he respectfully stepped aside to make way.


    Since Cole had been removed from his position asmander of the Kingsguard, Erryk and Arryk had risen quickly through the ranks. One specialized in defending the king, the other the queen. It wouldn''t be long before one of the brothers would be named the newmander of the Kingsguard.


    ...


    Dungeon.


    The dimly lit environment reeked of stench, and the wails of prisoners echoed from the cages.


    Erryk led the way with a torch in one hand, casting flickering shadows on the damp walls. Viserys followed behind, covering his nose and mouth with a handkerchief. He would not have set foot in this ce if he hadn''t needed to meet his uncooperativebrother.


    They walked deeper into the dungeon and came to a familiar cell.


    "Brother, what brings you back here?" Daemon asked, sitting drowsily on the wooden bed, the shackles on his hands and feet nking with every movement. It had been so long that he couldn''t tell day from night and often lost track of time.


    Viserys looked at him in disgust and handed him a list of ns. "Take a look at this and tell me if it''s feasible."


    "Hmph, do you take me for a counselor in custody?" Daemon snorted but still got up and took the list, examining it. Locked in the dungeon, he had realized that sometimes one has to bend to survive. Thest time he had taunted Alicent, he found something foul in his food the next day. It had taken three days for the prison food to return to normal.


    Viserys, in high spirits, did not care to argue. He kept his brother in the dungeon to be used when needed. There was a certain satisfaction in having him at his disposal.


    Daemon rolled his eyes and scanned the list. "Repairing the gutter, cleaning the sewers..." he muttered, quickly losing interest. For him, these were trivial matters.


    After a long pause, Viserys asked, "What do you think?"


    "About what?" Daemon''s head dropped and his voice grew longer.


    "The new n!" Viserys snapped. "Answer me honestly or you''ll starve for another three days."


    Daemon stared at the list, surprised. "You know?"


    "Hmph, my own brother eating shit in the dungeon��do you think I don''t know?" Viserys retorted sarcastically. "I don''t care what Alicent said to you. Just don''t mess with these crazy women."


    "Oh, you don''t," Daemon sighed, shaking his head.


    "What do you know? Just answer the question!" Viserys was losing patience.


    Daemon shook the list and adopted a more serious tone. "It''s alright. The sewers in King''s Landing do need cleaning, and building public toilets is a good idea." When he had been themander of the City Watch, he had both loved and loathed patrolling the streets.


    Apprehending criminals was thrilling, but the stench of King''s Landing was unbearable. Every day, his boots stepped in a different kind of filth.


    ...


    Viserys nodded in satisfaction and continued, "What about thest two points: employing civilians and encouraging the opening ofnd?"


    "Who came up with this n?" Daemon asked, sidestepping the question.


    "Rhaegar''s suggestion," Viserys replied honestly.


    "Tsk, clever boy, full of possessiveness," Daemon smirked. He could see the implications of the n: to clear out the excess poption of the monarchy and eliminate the potential for civilian riots. Every generation of Targaryen kings had entertained this idea, but it was undoubtedly difficult to implement.


    After thinking for a moment, Daemon banged the back of his head against the iron railing and murmured, "The n is feasible and seamless." With a twinkle in his eye, he added, "Who will execute the n?"


    "Otto Hightower," Viserys said bluntly.


    "Oh, good choice," Daemon sneered, baring his teeth and shrugging slightly. "This kind of drudgery where you''ll be cursed for even suggesting it is perfect for Otto, that old bastard."


    "Daemon, watch yournguage," Viserys warned, ring at him. Like it or not, Otto was still his father-inw.


    "Che, you asked. I''m going back to sleep," Daemon retorted, throwing away the list and lying down on the wooden bed.


    Viserys, seething with frustration, said through gritted teeth, "Daemon, don''t you want to get out of here?"


    "And how can I do that, as a sinner?" Daemon asked rhetorically, pulling the covers over his head.


    "Hmph, think about it," Viserys grunted coldly, leaving the words, "Vaemond is dead."


    With that, he walked out of the dungeon under Erryk''s escort.


    As the sound of footsteps gradually faded, the wooden bed in the cell creaked. Daemon lifted the covers, his eyes gradually regaining their brightness. Vaemond''s death had introduced too many variables. It could be a prelude to war or the beginning of House Vryon''s decline. All he needed was the right opportunity to escape the cold, damp dungeon.


    With that in mind, Daemon closed his eyes and muttered, "Brother, you and I are really connected by blood..."

 Chapter 248: Sea Snake’s Hatred

    Chapter 248: Sea Snake��s Hatred


    Seven days passed in a blur.


    The three-masted ship, bearing the three red dragon gs, crossed ckwater Bay and arrived at the harbor of Driftmark.


    The harbor was not as bustling as usual; it felt eerily quiet. Apart from a few freighters, the only sound was the rustling of the tides washing the beach.


    Rhaena, dressed in a white gown, waited at the harbor, her eyes fixed on the approaching royal ship.


    A group of guards stepped onto the dock, forming two lines.


    Alicent, in a green dress, was the first to appear, supporting a pale and weak Viserys.


    "Slow down, we''re onnd now," Alicent gently urged, patting her husband on the back.


    Viserys'' seasickness had returned with a vengeance, and he had been vomiting profusely.


    The king and queen led the way, with Rhaegar and his younger siblings following behind. To amodate his father, Rhaegar had opted for the slower boat ride instead of flying on his dragon."Roar..."


    The shadow of a dragon shed across the sky, disturbing the other dragons and breaking the peaceful atmosphere.


    Golden Syrax, Sunfyre, and the light silver-gray Seasmoke scattered at the sight of Cannibal''s arrival.


    Laena stepped forward to greet them, bowing respectfully. "Your Grace."


    Viserys nodded, attempting to speak, but swallowed back his words as his throat tightened.


    "He''s a bit under the weather. We''ll need the Maester to take a look at himter," Alicent said, forcing a smile and conveying her husband''s condition.


    Laena nodded in understanding and led the way ahead.


    ...


    As they rode into High Tide in the carriage, the atmosphere inside the castle was even more somber.


    When they entered the hall, many guests were already waiting.


    Laena apologized, "Father is bedridden and Mother is attending to the guests. I''m the only one avable to entertain you."


    The Sea Snake had been seriously injured in the defeat at Bloodstone Ind and had been recuperating on Driftmark. He had just awakened but suffered a high fever upon hearing of Vaemond''s death and was in a fragile state.


    Viserys, his seasickness eased somewhat, managed a weak smile. "It''s no problem. Take me to Lord Corlys."


    He needed to meet the master of the castle, of course.


    "This way, Your Grace," Laena replied, and with Alicent''s help, they assisted the king up the stairs.


    Left aside, Rhaegar shrugged and addressed his younger siblings, "Move around freely, but don''t wander off."


    "Okay," Hena replied first, taking Aemond and Daeron by the hands and heading towards the tableden with food.


    Daeron, like a curious child, quickly freed himself from his sister''s grip and scampered off.


    Aemond, blushing slightly, allowed his sister to lead the way, following like a shadow.


    Rhaegar didn''t worry much. The different hair and eye colors of his siblings made them easily recognizable. In the rtively safe confines of Driftmark, there was no one who would dare bully them.


    "Rhaegar!"


    He turned at the sound of Rhaenyra''s voice and saw her on the stairs leading to the second floor.


    Rhaenyra had abandoned her usual luxurious style. She was wearing a simple, long, strapless ck dress, devoid of her usual boratece and jewelry. Her long hair was pulled back.


    With a single nce, Rhaegar understood the reason for her attire.


    "Rhaenyra, have you be a nanny?" he teased, noticing the swaddled babies she was holding.


    Rhaenyra proudly lifted her chin and denied, "No! I have no milk. I am the adoptive mother of two babies."


    After the celebration following the Rivends rebellion, the siblings had parted ways for a while. Rhaenyra had flown to Driftmark to help with the children, keeping her promise to Laena.


    Rhaegar climbed the steps and reached out to take one of the swaddled infants.


    "Hmph, you know what you''re doing," Rhaenyra said with a smile, clearly relieved to share the burden.


    Rhaegar nced down at the swaddled, dark-skinned baby girl, who squirmed and waved her tiny arms and legs. After a moment, he lost interest and leaned closer to Rhaenyra, whispering, "How is Lord Corlys?"


    "Don''t be mean," Rhaenyra replied, nudging him. "Lord Corlys is fine, but Laenor cried so much I couldn''t handle it."


    Laenor had gone to war with his uncle, survived the battle, but his uncle died from the aftermath. Realizing something was wrong had deeply shocked him.


    As Rhaenyra spoke, Rhaegar''s eyes flickered with thought.


    Logically, if the Triarchy was targeting someone for assassination, it wouldn''t have been Vaemond. Aegon and Laenor were more obvious choices. Yet, Vaemond was the one struck down.


    He couldn''t make sense of it.


    Rhaenyra nudged him again and said quietly, "Don''t dwell on it. The funeral is this afternoon."


    "Okay," Rhaegar replied, his thoughtsing back to the present. "Find a nurse to feed the baby."


    He walked up the stairs with a teasing smile.


    ...


    Afternoon


    The sea breeze blew gently, and the tide washed over the reef.


    In the back garden of High Tide, on a t, sea-facing cliff, guests gathered around a solid wood coffin carved with a human figure in the center.


    Viserys and Alicent stood to the side with their children. Corlys, seated in a wheelchair with gauze around his neck, was pushed by Rhaenys, who was covered in a ck veil.


    When the hour arrived, Corlys ignored the advice of Rhaenys and chose to bury his brother himself.


    In a dull, hoarse voice, he recited a eulogy:


    "We meet this day at the Seat of the Sea to send Ser Vaemond of the House of Vryon into the waters of Eternity, within the borders of the King of Mermaids. Forever under his protection in the years toe."


    As the eulogy was recited line by line, the guards attached ropes to the coffin and slowly lowered it into the waters below the cliff.


    With the most important part of the funeral now over, the guests dispersed, and the servants brought out food and wine for the farewell feast.


    "Roar..."


    A dragon''s roar rang out as Syrax pped its wings, hovering over the castle as if spreading its wings in farewell. Apanying Syrax were Meleys, the Red Queen, and Seasmoke. On the mountaintop adjacent to the castle, a light blue dragon loungedzily, flicking its tail. On the crags of the neighboring cliffs, Sunfyre stood on two feet, looking down proudly.


    Cannibal and Vhagar were absent; their immense size left no suitable ce for them tond.


    Viserys took Alicent''s hand and headed back to the castle with Corlys and Rhaenys. Laena found Rhaenyra and pulled her aside for a chat.


    Rhaegar was left behind again, looking around helplessly. Laenor, looking mournful, drank wine after wine, apanied by a handsome knight. Aegon drank his wine with equal fervor, his eyes lingering on the maids, asionally pping one on the backside.


    With nothing else to do, Rhaegar stretched and found Hena sitting on her knees in a corner, ying with a ball of thread. She closed her eyes, feigning sleep.


    "Sister..."


    Aemond ran from the distance with a smile on his face. Hena immediately turned her head and put her index finger to her lips, reminding him, "Shhh! Keep your voice down."


    She pointed to Rhaegar, who was sitting behind her, signaling Aemond to be quiet. Aemond froze, his hands stirring behind his back, and whispered, "Oh, okay."


    Stealing a nce at his older brother, Rhaegar, there was more than a touch of jealousy in his eyes.


    ...


    Beside the wine table, Laena held Rhaenyra''s hand and smiled warmly. "Rhaenyra, thank you for preparing the dragon eggs for the children."


    "It��s my responsibility as their foster mother," Rhaenyra replied calmly.


    "Thank you," Laena repeated, her eyes shing with reluctance. She took a deep breath. "When the children turn one, they will be sent to Dragonstone or King''s Landing, where you will raise them."


    Adopting a child in these times was akin to taking a hostage��an agreement both parties had already epted, yet it pained Laena to part with her children.


    Rhaenyra, not yet a mother herself, couldn''t fully grasp her friend''s anguish but offered reassurance. "The children will grow up healthy in my care. Whether they be dragonriders ordies, they will have the choice."


    "I believe you," Laena responded with a bittersweet smile. Then she hesitated before asking, "What about Daemon? I haven��t heard from him since leaving King��s Landing."


    Rhaenyra paused, then replied, "He''s... managing. I don''t know the details, but he''s probably in the dungeon doing penance."


    Both women exchanged a knowing smile at the word "penance." With Daemon''s prideful nature, admitting fault or repenting was unlikely.


    Laena squeezed Rhaenyra��s hand slightly harder and pleaded, "Rhaenyra, on the children��s first naming day, I want them to meet their father."


    "You��ll need to ask my father for that," Rhaenyra replied, narrowing her eyes.


    Laena��s sincerity was evident as she whispered, "I will seek His Grace��s favor, but I need your help, for the sake of the children."


    "I��ll try. It��s just one meeting; it shouldn��t be a problem," Rhaenyra said, drawing back her hand, her voice cold.


    "Thank you," Laena whispered gratefully.


    ...


    High Tide, Driftwood Throne Hall.


    Corlys sat in a wheelchair, his face etched with dismay. Beside him, Rhaenys looked on, her worry for her husband''s health evident.


    "Lord Corlys, I am deeply saddened by Ser Vaemond''s passing. The kingdom will remember his dedication," Viserys said from the driftwood throne, his gaze steady on Corlys and Rhaenys.


    Rhaenys stepped forward, her voice firm. "Cousin, you and I both know that Vaemond''s death is not natural."


    She had already begun an investigation and suspected the use of a notorious poison��Tears of Lys. Colorless and tasteless, it could be easily slipped into food, causing mild stomach difort at first, but worsening until it became lethal.


    Viserys'' smile faded. "The Triarchy suffered heavy losses. I expected retaliation, but not like this."


    Rhaenys was about to speak when Corlys interrupted. "Your Grace, Vaemond died for the realm. His life''s honor is intact. But the Triarchy is growing too bold, and the defenses of the Stepstones remain inadequate."


    Viserys asked, "The mercenaries on Grey Gallows are retreating, and the army of the realm is stationed there. What more is needed?"


    Corlys, his voice raspy but determined, replied, "To end this threat, we must build fortresses on Bloodstone Ind and Grey Gallows Ind. Constant vignce is needed against the Triarchy''s attacks."


    This was a proposal Corlys had championed since bing the navymander.


    "I will consider it carefully, Lord Corlys," Viserys said after a moment of silence.


    His mind wandered to Alicent''s idea of giving thend for Aegon and to Daemonnguishing in the dungeon.


    With that, the conversation ended and Viserys left High Tide.


    Corlys watched him retreat, his eyes dark and uncertain, his fists clenched. The Vryon House had sacrificed too much in the Stepstones War.


    "Corlys, take it easy," Rhaenys urged, her concern palpable.


    "I''m fine," Corlys replied, though his gaze remained fixed on the flickering candle me. He murmured to himself, "The Triarchy will pay a more painful price, sooner orter!"

 Chapter 249: Rhaegar’s Changes

    Chapter 249: Rhaegar��s Changes


    Time passed like a fleeting shadow.


    The year was 121 AC.


    On a bright spring morning, a golden dragon soared above the tranquil waters of the God''s Eye Lake, its scales glistening in the sunlight.


    "Roar..."


    The dragon''s roar echoed through the air as it gracefully maneuvered through the clouds, adjusting its wings to change direction.


    In the center of God''s Eye Lakey the lush Isle of Faces, its appearance drastically transformed over the past three years.


    On the ind''s northern side, a massive, dark structure dominated thendscape. Towering at 500 feet, it was neither fully a mountain nor entirely a tower, with fourrge openings that allowed the wind to howl through, creating a sound akin to a horn.


    The golden dragon circled the formidable building before gliding towards theke''s northern shore. Its belly skimmed the shimmering surface, and its slender tail created ripples as it brushed through the water.


    Harrenhal stood proudly nearby, its thick, steep walls newly repaired. Soldiers d in ck armor patrolled with disciplined precision.A sudden gust of wind sent the soldiers reeling.


    "Alert!"


    They looked up to see the golden dragon flying over the city wall and into the castle grounds.


    "At ease! It''s the princess and her dragon."


    The captain of the soldiers recognized the dragon and its rider and paid his respects before resuming his patrol.


    ...


    In front of the Kingspyre Tower, where the "bear pit" once stood, young shoots pushed through the soil, and a dusting of snow adorned the lone willow tree.


    On one wall of the tower, a spacious hut had been constructed, furnished with simple tables and stools. Inside, dozens of teenagers sat attentively, listening to a tall and stout teacher''s lesson.


    ng, ng...


    The sound of a zither echoed, a seemingly joyful tune tinged with mncholy. The source of the music was a stone pavilion nestled in the tower''s corner. Inside, the melody was yed by a young man with silver-blonde hair cascading down his back. He sat on a red carpet, a harp in hisp, his fingers gently stroking the strings.


    The young man''s pale skin and strikingly handsome features were marred only by the dark circles under his deep purple eyes, giving him a slightly gloomy appearance.


    "ck thread, dragon, rose..."


    Intermittent murmurs of a girl apanied the zither''s music. Lying behind the young man was a girl with simrly silver-blonde, slightly curly hair. She propped herself up on her hands, her legs swaying gently.


    Hoo...


    A massive golden dragon swooped over the castle courtyard,nding outside the pavilion. On its back, Rhaenyra, dressed in a long red gown with her hair pulled back, unfastened the chain around her waist and climbed down the softdder with nimble grace.


    Jumping to the ground, Rhaenyra patted the dragon''s golden scales and smiled, "Go y, Syrax."


    "Roar..."


    Syrax roared softly, nuzzling its rider before pping its wings and taking off.


    Above Harrenhal, two dragons��one ck and one blue��circled slowly, chasing each other. Syrax joined them, adding to their frolic.


    "Rhaegar, you won''t evene to wee me?"


    Rhaenyra entered the pavilion, hands behind her back. She was as beautiful as ever, untouched by the passage of time.


    ng~~


    The zither''s melody stopped abruptly as delicate fingers calmed the trembling strings, soothing the unfinished melody.


    The young man lifted his head, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he looked at Rhaenyra. "You and I have a rtionship that needs no formalities, Sister," he said, deliberately emphasizing thest word.


    Rhaenyra blushed and retorted, "You don''t even know how to make a proper gesture?"


    Half a year ago, Rhaegar had chosen to follow family tradition, solidifying an agreement in the presence of their father, Viserys. While they typically addressed each other by name, in private, they acknowledged their familial bond. For Rhaegar to use the term now suggested he was up to something.


    "Rhaenyra, you just left the day before yesterday. Why are you back so soon?" Rhaegar asked, a puzzled smile ying at the corners of his mouth.


    Rhaenyra, now a foster mother to two girls and burdened with the affairs of King��s Landing and Dragonstone, was always busy. Even if she came to Harrenhal to see him, it was never this frequent.


    "Why else? I have a mission, of course," Rhaenyra replied, exasperation in her voice. "Rhaegar, you haven''t been back to King''s Landing in over six months. Father misses you very much."


    Rhaegar''s smile faded as he lowered his head, idly stroking the strings of his zither, his interest in conversation waning.


    Three years ago, after Vaemond Vryon''s funeral, Rhaegar had returned to the capital, where Viserys frequently sought hispany. They hadn''t discussed monarchy reforms or the state of Harrenhal and the Dragon''s Nest.


    Instead, they shed over two proposals regarding the Stepstones, with Rhaegar firmly opposed to his father''s ns. Their disagreements escted into a heated argument, resulting in a rift between them.


    Rhaegar had left King''s Landing for Harrenhal, dedicating himself to restoring the castle and constructing the a new Dragon''s Nest.


    "Rhaegar, you''ve been away from King''s Landing too long. The realm needs a visible savior," Rhaenyra said, sitting beside him in the pavilion and gently trying to persuade him.


    In the three years since, Rhaegar had barely returned to the capital, and rumors of a rift between the king and his heir were circting among the court''s advisors.


    "Rhaenyra, are you afraid someone will seize power in my absence?" Rhaegar asked, his expression unreadable.


    Though frustrated by his father''s poor decisions, Rhaegar was not reckless. Despite his physical distance from King''s Landing, his influence grew daily. From Harrenhal, he kept a watchful eye on Old Tully at Riverrun, using Tully as an intermediary to strengthen his ties with the lords of the Rivends.


    House ckwood was the first to pledge allegiance, followed by other Rivend nobles. In the Vale, his long association with Jeyne, House Royce and House Grafton of Gulltown secured their unwavering support.


    Through the ever-expanding Mushroom Set caravan, he maintained strong personal rtionships with the nobles of the Crownds and the Rivends.


    Rhaegar might not be visible in King''s Landing, but his presence was felt throughout the Seven Kingdoms.


    Rhaenyra looked deeply into Rhaegar''s eyes and sighed. "In a few days it will be your naming day. Father is organizing a family feast and asked me to tell you that you must attend."


    "You know I''ve never liked naming days since I was a child," Rhaegar muttered.


    Rhaenyra moved closer, her voice softer. "Please go back. Father''s been dreaming about youtely. Even Alicent has noticed."


    ng~~


    Rhaegar strummed the strings of his zither, producing an abrupt, discordant sound. He had no desire to attend a family feast. Away from King''s Landing and its political turmoil, he relished the freedom of his own domain.


    After rebuilding Harrenhal Castle and adding a dragon''s nest to the Isle of Faces, life was more thanfortable.


    "Rhaegar..." Rhaenyra''s face grew solemn, her initial softness giving way to firmness.


    "Uh, what''s wrong?" Hena, startled by the sound, looked up nkly, her beautiful face framed by silver-blonde hair.


    Rhaenyra turned towards her. At twelve, Hena had already experienced her first period, though she still had the appearance of an innocent, wide-eyed girl.


    Her long, curly hair was tied into a bun, and she wore a goose down dress that highlighted her slender figure, inherited from Alicent. She sat on the red carpet, surrounded by carved stone toys and woolen balls, clutching a green thread and a dragon stone carving.


    Rhaenyra sighed, shaking her head in resignation. "Nothing, Hena. Carry on."


    "Oh, okay." Hena nodded obediently, then looked up again, confusion evident in her eyes. "Sister, didn''t you leave the day before yesterday?"


    "I''m back," Rhaenyra replied, doubly annoyed.


    Since Rhaegar''s ascension, Hena''s behavior had be increasingly strange. Not only was she a prophet, but she also disyed a strange sense of disorientation.


    Hena simply said "oh" and lowered her head to y with the stone carving, minimizing her presence. She had been staying in Harrenhal for a few months, escaping the damp and cold winter climate of King''s Landing. Here, she enjoyed the warmth andck of restrictions.


    St...


    As they spoke, the dragonstone carving in Hena''s hand slipped and struck a red rose. The rose toppled, its petals wilting and losing their luster. Hena, visibly upset, stared at the fallen carving, frustration etched on her face.


    With Hena momentarily silent, Rhaenyra resumed her plea. "Rhaegar, this is your sixteenth name day. You must return to King''s Landing with me."


    Her tone was firm, brooking no argument. In Westeros, a boy came of age at sixteen. Rhaegar, having reached that milestone, had to participate in the ceremony his father had arranged, whether he wanted to or not.


    Rhaegar looked at her, his eyes flickering with indecision. Noticing his hesitation, Rhaenyra''s eyes grew stern. She reached for the soft flesh at his waist, ready to assert her authority.


    "Fine, fine, I''ll go back with you," Rhaegar conceded, quickly intercepting her hand, a rueful smile on his lips.


    Rhaenyra frowned, looking for confirmation. "Really?"


    "Of course. A Targaryen keeps his word," Rhaegar assured her, a hint of certainty returning to his voice. Indeed, he had been away from King''s Landing too long. Many responsibilities had been dyed, including his knighthood, which should have been conferred at thirteen.


    "That''s more like it," Rhaenyra murmured, her tone softening. She took the harp from his hands and set it on a nearby stand.


    Rhaegar stretched, intending to stand and move. "Sit down; you''re not leaving just yet," Rhaenyra instructed, pulling him back into her arms and leaning close. Three years had passed quickly, and Rhaegar had grown.


    His once youthful face had matured, his height had increased, and his body had developed solid muscles. He had be the kind of man whose slender appearance concealed a muscr frame.


    His handsome face was captivating, his deep eyes intense. Troubled by nightmares, he had taken up the harp under the guidance of a renowned teacher to calm his mind and soothe his nerves.


    "What are your ns after the name day?" Rhaenyra''s voice was soft, her chin resting on his shoulder, her red lips close to his ear.


    The date was set. Rhaegar was an adult now, and momentous events loomed on the horizon.


    "Father will probably arrange for us to tour the continent and visit various nobles," Rhaegar mused, inhaling the scent of her hair. "Once I''m officially knighted, everything will fall into ce."

 Chapter 250: Rhaegar’s Influence

    Chapter 250: Rhaegar��s Influence


    Night.


    Kingspyre Tower, Hall of a Hundred Hearths.


    The hall was cavernous and grand, with thirty-four hearthsand a smooth stone floor. At a long table of solid wood, Rhaenyra, Hena, and Rhaegar dined.


    Nibbling on unseasonal fruits, Rhaenyra nced around and muttered, "Every time Ie here, it feels so exaggerated."


    She kept her voice low, afraid the vastness of the hall would amplify it into an echo.


    Harrenhal, a massive castle, had taken ck Harren over forty years to build. The scale of its great hall alone was almost beyondprehension. Records imed that the Hall of a Hundred Hearths wasrge enough to house an army.


    "Harrenhal stands out for its size and sturdiness. You��ll get used to it," Rhaegar said, smiling proudly.


    The castle''s restoration had advanced rapidly with the use of ck dragonstone.


    Aside from essential buildings such as courtyards, bathhouses, and stables, the five towers were of paramount importance.After Balerion''s burning, the towers had been twisted and deformed, their roofs scorched. Yet their walls remained thick, almost indestructible. The interiors were mostly intact, requiring only minor repairs. Rhaegar had the distorted exteriors stripped away and reced with ck dragonstone, creating new outer walls.


    The tops of the towers were restored to their original heights and levels, and decorated with stone dragon carvings in the style of the Sea Dragon Tower on Dragonstone Ind.


    The Kingspyre Tower featured carvings of Cannibal, while the Widow''s Tower, connected to it, was adorned with the likeness of Grey Ghost, a dragon that had moved from Dragonstone Ind to Isle of Faces.


    The Wailing Tower, with its storeroom and vast cer, bore the symbol of Syrax, representing fertility. The Tower of Dread, linked to a rebuilt sept, had its spire carved with Dreamfyre, Hena''s dragon.


    The Tower of Ghosts still had no dragon sculpture, as Aegon''s Sunfyre was used to thest current generation of dragon masters of House Targaryen.


    With thepletion of these towers, Harrenhal''s style was transformed forever. Once dark and devastated, it had be the grandest castle in Westeros.


    To cate the Faith, Rhaegar rebuilt the sept, cut down the burned weirwood trees, and reced them with ornamental trees, a project that took a year and a half. Consequently, some sections of Harrenhal��s walls remained unfinished, still being repaired with ck dragonstone.


    Seeing Rhaegar''s pride, Rhaenyra smiled genuinely and offered heartfelt praise. One major reason Rhaegar had not returned to King''s Landing was the demanding construction schedule at Harrenhal, leaving him no time to spare.


    "I''m full," Hena said, putting down her knife and fork. Her cheeks were bulging and she took a sip of fruit wine to help with her full stomach.


    Rhaegar chuckled softly. "Go to bed now, Hena. We''ll go back to King''s Landing tomorrow."


    "Uh-huh, good night, brother." Hena hopped out of her chair and walked around the table to give Rhaegar a hug. Then, ncing at Rhaenyra, who was sipping red wine, she approached briskly and reached out for another hug. "Good night, sister."


    With that, Hena wiped her mouth and made her way up the stairs from the Great Hall. The Hall of a Hundred Hearths was huge, with two corridors and countless rooms branching off the stairs.


    Once Hena was gone, Rhaenyra turned back to Rhaegar. "Rhaegar, you and Jeyne..."


    "She''s fine. I saw her three months ago," Rhaegar replied, his demeanor rxed, the awkwardness of the previous days gone. "She understands my decision. I''ll exin everything to her when I get the chance."


    "Good. It''s important that you keep that in mind," Rhaenyra nodded, asking no further questions. Jeyne had been remarkably understanding, staying peacefully in the Vale andmunicating only through ravens. Even though Rhaenyra couldn''t fully ept what had happened, she admired Jeyne''s tolerance.


    When dinner was nearly finished, Rhaegar pulled out two letters. "Tnd wrote to me a few days ago about a severe drought in Dorne. Bands of mobs have started roaming the borders."


    Rhaenyra took the papers, her expression growing serious. "It''s not just Dorne that''s having problems. The Tyrell House in Highgarden is also in trouble."


    She continued, "Lord Tyrell is very old and has only one son, who has been weak and sickly since childhood. Recently, the heir contracted a cold and died in the Citadel. With no other sons, Lord Tyrell sent a letter to you, implicitly seeking permission to legitimize a bastard."


    Rhaenyra��s face grew stern. "Rhaegar, you must never agree to this. Your status cannot support such approval."


    "Don''t worry, I haven''t written back," Rhaegar reassured her, taking a calm sip of his fruit wine.


    In Westeros, where bloodlines were paramount, bastards were greatly disfavored. As the king''s eldest son and heir to the kingdom, Rhaegar was among those least able to support the legitimacy of bastards. Supporting a bastard for the Highgarden session could set a dangerous precedent, potentially undermining his own position and that of his family.


    Relieved, Rhaenyra sighed. "The Tully and Tyrell families both face simr problems with their heirs."


    Old Tully''s eldest son had died in battle, leaving Riverrun without a clear heir. For the past three years, he had wavered between his two younger sons and his grandson. While the second son should theoretically be first in line, both were too weak and foolish. The grandson, though mediocre, was at least capable.


    Old Tully wanted to make his grandson heir, but his two younger sons had banded together to cause trouble and disturb the peace of Riverrun. Rhaegar, unwilling to interfere, left the Tullys to resolve their problems independently.


    Seeing Rhaenyra''s frustration, Rhaegar smiled helplessly. "But these two families are among the most loyal to the Crown. We can''t just ignore them."


    "Let''s not talk about them anymore. It''s frustrating," Rhaenyra said in exasperation.


    "It''ste. Let''s get some sleep," Rhaegar suggested.


    "Very well. Serve your queen and take me to bed," Rhaenyra replied yfully, opening her arms.


    Rhaegarughed and rose to carry her.


    ...


    The next morning, Harrenhal Castle buzzed with activity as craftsmen worked on repairing the walls. Most of these workers hade from King''s Landing, deployed by Maester Maynard of the Dragonpit. The rest were ves and natives of the Rivends.


    Rhaegar estimated that about 1,000 craftsmen and their families, a total of 4,000 to 5,000 people, now lived within the castle. Fortunately, the vast expanse of Harrenhal easily amodated them all.


    Suddenly, the air was filled with the thunderous roar of dragons, apanied by fierce winds that swept over the castle walls. The craftsmen steadied themselves and looked up in awe.


    In the clear sky, a massive ck dragon, as dark as charcoal, led the way, its wings casting a wide shadow over thend. Dreamfire, slightly smaller, flew alongside, carrying Hena, whose eyes sparkled with excitement as she soared through the clouds.


    The smallest of the trio, Syrax, followed, three times smaller than Cannibal and not yet an adult.


    The three dragons circled the vast expanse of God''s Eye Lake before heading southeast in a less traveled direction. A few dozen miles from Harrenhal, they approached arge, unwalled vige.


    From the sky, the vige was a sprawling beehive of human activity. The houses were strange, with round stone walls and conical roofs of wooden beams that resembledrge mushrooms with brown caps and gray stalks. This was Mushroom Vige, a bustling marketmunity.


    The vige was a mix of free folk loyal to Rhaegar, ves, and women and children taken in from Flea Bottom. It thrived on trading regional specialties, leather goods, and handicrafts. Rhaegar had even acquired several fruit groves, and the ves produced a popr, refreshing sweet fruit wine that sold well at the market.


    Mushroom Vige had be a major trading hub, attracting merchants from the Rivends, the Crownds, and even as far as the Vale, the Reach, and the Stornds. Each year, the wealth generated by the market grew exponentially.


    As the dragons flew overhead, the Cannibal''s eyes gleamed with superiority. With a powerful p of its wings, it soared over the bustling vige below, indifferent to the small gathering of people that seemed like mere bugs from its vantage point.


    ...


    The sun rose, casting its warm light over thend and melting away the winter chill. As a coastal city, King''s Landing rarely saw snow, but the cold and damp climate was still harsh. Every winter, the alleys of Flea Bottom were littered with the bodies of those who had sumbed to the cold and hunger. This winter, however, had been different.


    The king had heeded Prince Rhaegar''s advice and given the homeless refugeesnd in the kingdom to farm. Prince Rhaegar himself had weed many women and children into the Rivends, providing them with work and a means to survive. As a result, the people of King''s Landing fared better than in previous winters.


    As the morning wore on, the temperature slowly rose.


    "Roar..."


    A muffled dragon roar echoed through King''s Landing. The ck dragon, Cannibal, circled above, its mouth spewing a trail of green dragonfire. People emerged from their homes, leaning against the walls to bask in the sun. When they heard the dragon''s roar, they looked up in awe.


    "The ck dragon belongs to Prince Rhaegar..."


    "Prince Rhaegar has returned!"


    The sight of Cannibal brought the image of the young prince to their minds and filled them with hope. In recent years, Prince Rhaegar and his dragon had rarely been seen in King''s Landing, often staying in the Rivends. Each appearance of the ck dragon stirred the hearts of the people, who admired a prince who cared for themoners.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibalpleted two full circles over King��s Landing, heralding the return of both dragon and rider. Following closely, Dreamfire and Syrax descended towards the Dragonpit.


    At the gates of the Dragonpit, the wiry Maester Maynard awaited, his face lit with excitement. As Cannibalnded, Rhaegar dismounted and greeted him.


    "Prince, it''s been a long time," Maynard said, joyfully limping forward.


    "Long time no see, Maynard," Rhaegar replied with a smile. "This time, I''ll be staying in King��s Landing for a while."


    "Excellent," Maynard said, pping his hands with glee.


    "Roar..."


    A sharp dragon roar emanated from within the Dragonpit. Rhaegar turned, peering into the dim interior where a scarlet hue flickered.


    "Can it fly?" Rhaegar asked, frowning slightly.


    Maynard shook his head regretfully. "It''s quite a struggle. The improperly healed wounds keep tearing and reconnecting. It''ll take at least a year and a half before it can return to the sky."


    Rhaegar nodded, handing Cannibal over to the Dragonkeepers. Even in his absence, the Dragonpit remained under his control, ensuring the safety and care of his dragons.

 Chapter 251: Cold Treatment

    Chapter 251: Cold Treatment


    Gulp Gulp~


    Leaving the Dragonpit in a carriage, Rhaegar passed through the crowded Silk Street on his way to the Red Keep. As they traveled, he lifted a corner of the curtain to observe the changes on the street.


    "What are you looking at?" Rhaenyra asked, sitting opposite him, her legs crossed beneath her ck skirt.


    Rhaegar nced back at her, catching a glimpse of her fair skin under the skirt. "King��s Landing has really changed. It used to be full of rats crawling through filth. Now, it��s much cleaner."


    He continued to gaze out the window at the transformed city.


    "It''s all because of you," Rhaenyra said with a proud smile. "A year ago, I couldn��t step outside without worrying about dirtying my boots."


    Repairing public toilets, hiring sanitation workers, fixing houses��all of these were Rhaegar''s initiatives. Rhaenyra was well aware of his contributions.


    Rhaegar shook his head modestly, though he couldn��t help but smile. "Lord Otto deserves praise. He made the biggest sacrifices to fund these improvements."


    "Hmph, it''s because you��re full of cunning ns," Rhaenyraughed, recalling the abuse and attacks Otto had endured over the past two years. Civilians had sshed filth on his courtyard gates and filled his grounds with dead rats and sparrows as threats. This had been Otto��s dull and humiliating daily life.Hena, who had been dozing, roused herself and asked nkly, "What��s wrong about Grandfather?"


    "Nothing, we��ll be back at the Red Keep soon. Don��t fall asleep," Rhaenyra said, patting her cheeks to stay awake.


    She couldn''t hide her joy. Otto had endured two years of humiliation, and despite the sess of his efforts over the past year, Rhaegar had imed most of the credit. By gathering women and children and using them to shape public opinion, he had overshadowed Otto''s achievements.


    Otto, hoping to finally receive recognition, had gone to the Small Council to apply for acknowledgment of his contributions. However, since the proposals had originally been Rhaegar''s ideas, Otto��s efforts wentrgely unrecognized, leaving him as the ultimateborer without the desired acim.


    ...


    Red Keep


    The guards saw them approaching and promptly opened the gates.


    Rhaenyra took Rhaegar''s hand and said softly, "We''re home."


    Rhaegar nodded, quietly feeling the bumps of the carriage as it rolled forward.


    As they entered the front garden of the Red Keep, the coachman tightened the reins.


    Ser Steffon, a member of the Kingsguard, stood by and announced in a loud voice, "Wee Rhaegar of House Targaryen, Breaker of Shackles, Ruin Maker, Prince of Harrenhal, and heir to the Iron Throne. And his two sisters, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Princess Hena Targaryen."


    As the promation ended, the carriage door opened from the inside.


    Rhaegar shifted his position and looked around the courtyard of the Red Keep.


    The courtyard was cold and empty; the nobles who used to gather topete and watch were nowhere to be seen. The carriage was facing the gate of the Red Keep, which was tightly closed.


    Seeing the situation, Rhaegarmented, "Oh, it''s really quiet!"


    After half a year away, revisiting the ce where he grew up revealed a different kind of scenery - one that was noticeably colder.


    As they disembarked from the carriage, the Kingsguards dispersed into the front yard, waiting solemnly. Rhaenyra and Hena poked their heads out and looked around curiously.


    Hena, still very innocent, asked softly, "Where did those lords go?"


    In her memory, the forecourt was always crowded with people wandering around every day.


    "Hush, be quiet," Rhaenyra said, pressing down on her small head. She knew someone in the Red Keep didn''t like her brother.


    Rhaegar opened his arms and smiled, "Get out of the carriage first,dies."


    "Well, brother, hold me," Hena said, happily jumping into Rhaegar''s arms. He caught her steadily, took half a step back, and ced her on the ground.


    Turning around, he pped his hands at Rhaenyra. She looked uneasy and whispered, "I''ll help you ask father for justice."


    "Don''t worry about it," Rhaegar said with a reassuring smile. He took her hand, hooked his other arm around her legs, and lifted her out of the carriage.


    He didn��t concern himself with the details. The answers woulde when he saw his father.


    Creak.


    The front door of the Red Keep opened, and a thin, bald man in a ck tuxedo stepped out.


    Rhaegar looked over at the sound of the door, his expression unchanged.


    When the man saw the handsome and upright Rhaegar, his eyes lit up. He quickly walked down the steps to Rhaegar, extending his hand but then hesitating, afraid of being too forward. After a pause, he solemnly nodded and said in a deep voice, "Wee back, Prince."


    Rhaegar lifted his hand to shake it, looking the man up and down with a smile, "Lord Caswell."


    "Please, the King is waiting for you in the Throne Hall," Caswell said, a bit agitated, his voice rising slightly.


    Rhaegar leaned in and whispered, "Thank you, my lord."


    In Caswell''s delighted eyes, Rhaegar led Rhaenyra and Hena into the main door.


    "Lord Caswell is warm-hearted and meticulous, a good man," Rhaenyramented as they walked some distance away.


    Rhaegar thought for a moment and agreed, "The House Caswell of Bitterbridge, one of the oldest noble families of the Rivends, would be a loyal partner."


    Lord Caswell had shown him favor long ago. His family had close ties with Oldtown and House Hightower, and Rhaegar hadn��t paid much attention to them before. Seeing him today refreshed his previous impression.


    ...


    He passed through the empty banquet hall and walked along the corridor adorned with the crest of the three red dragons.


    ��Your Grace, with the prince''s name day approaching, it��s only fitting to notify the entire realm,�� said one voice.


    ��The prince has been living in Harrenhal and is busy with business...�� another voice added.


    ��If the princess invites him personally, the prince might find time to attend...�� suggested a third.


    The throne room was just ahead, and familiar voices of discussion echoed through the corridor.


    Rhaegar walked slowly forward until the solid wooden doors of the hall appeared in front of him. At the entrance, Kingsguard Arryk Cargyll stood watch. He immediately spotted the prince.


    ��Arryk, long time no see,�� Rhaegar called out, his eyes alight.


    Unable to conceal his emotions, Arryk��s face lit up with joy. ��Prince, you��re back.��


    ��Open the door. I can hear them discussing me inside,�� Rhaegar said, lifting his chin and cing his hands behind his back.


    ��Yes, Prince,�� Arryk replied, gripping the handle and pulling the door open.


    The door opened with a creak, startling those inside.


    Viserys sat upright and expressionless on the Iron Throne, where des were densely packed. Below him, Lyonel and Otto upied important positions to the left and right. Other royal advisers were present, including Rhaenys Targaryen, the Master of Dragons; Jasper, the Master of Laws; and Grand Maester Mellos.


    Rhaegar stood at the doorway, scanning the room with a slight smile.


    The hall fell silent as the advisers exchanged nces, no one daring to speak first.


    ��My lords, it has been a long time,�� Rhaegar greeted calmly, then strode into the hall.


    He passed by a few advisers, nodding in turn. Rhaenys held her head high and gave him a knowing look.


    Reaching the Iron Throne, Rhaegar looked up at his father, the King of the Seven Kingdoms.


    Viserys gazed at his eldest son with a solemn expression, exuding the majesty of a king.


    After a moment of silence, Rhaegar spoke, ��Father, I am back.��


    Viserys looked furious and said in a deep voice, ��Rhaegar, I thought you were going to be a brat for the rest of your life.��


    ��A lifetime is too long. I��m more generous,�� Rhaegar joked, then added despondently, ��If I don��te back, I��m afraid the doors of the Red Keep will not open for me next time.��


    Viserys'' face hardened. ��No next time. Otherwise, don��t evene near the Red Keep.��


    Rhaegar sighed, noting the changes in everyone��s expressions��Lyonel��s joy, Rhaenys��s relief, Otto��s calmness, and Jasper and Mellos''s silence. He quickly assessed the situation.


    Viserys and Lyonel exchanged a look and nodded slightly.


    Lyonel, with a shy bellyugh, announced, ��Prince, his majesty has prepared a dinner for you, to wee you back.��


    ��Excellent,�� Rhaegar agreed casually.


    ��Hmph!�� Viserys snorted coldly. ��Retire, get some rest, and dress sharply for the dinner.��


    ��Yes, father,�� Rhaegar replied with a smile, nodding to the royal advisers before exiting the hall.


    With that, the father-son rtionship was restored, and it was time to move on.


    Rhaenyra and Hena were still waiting outside.


    As soon as Rhaegar left, the discussion in the hall resumed, shifting from doubts about the prince��s return to nning the celebration details��whether it should be a banquet or a tournament.


    ...


    It waste.


    In a remote attic of the Red Keep, a creaking sound echoed as the door was pushed open. Alicent, dressed in a green robe, stepped out with a grim expression.


    "The banquet is about to begin. I must get things under control," she said coldly, and quickly disappeared around the corner of the stairs.


    In the attic, a chair faced the wooden door. Larys smiled and wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. News of the prince''s return to King''s Landing had spread like a storm through the Red Keep.


    Her Grace the Queen, unable to contain herself, had sought a way to reconcile.


    With that in mind, Larys leaned back in his chair and muttered, "If you want something, you have to fight for it. Looking ahead and looking back is not a good idea..."


    He shivered and closed his eyes, savoring the moment.


    ...


    In the prince''s bedroom, the familiaryout and the warm fire burning in the firece created a cozy atmosphere. Rhaegar sat in front of the dressing table, small, delicate hands behind himbing his long hair.


    "Rhaenyra, a simple tie is fine. There''s no need to tie it any other way," Rhaegar suggested softly, wincing as his hair roots ached from the tugging.


    "Oh, I''m sorry if I hurt you," Rhaenyra replied, easing the force on her hands. She pulled his long hair over her hand, tying it into a low ponytail with a thin rope.


    "Suit yourself. The feast is about to begin," Rhaegar sighed, giving up the struggle. He scooted back on the stool, resting the back of his head against a warm, soft patch.


    The temperature was just right, warmer than the firece. Rhaegar liked it so much that he turned his face sideways and rubbed it repeatedly.


    "Rhaegar, be honest," Rhaenyra scolded, reaching for his ear. How are you going to meet people if you keep rubbing on me?

 Chapter 252: Aegon’s Encounter with Daemon

    Chapter 252: Aegon��s Encounter with Daemon


    Just as Rhaenyra was about to change into her dress, a gale blew through King''s Landing.


    "Roar..."


    A low, thunderous dragon roar echoed across the city. A massive figure blocked the curved moon, casting a wide shadow over thend.


    A huge dragon with dark green scales flew from the direction of ckwater Bay, soaring above King''s Landing. Two figures were perched on its back, one seated in front of the other.


    ...


    In the banquet hall of the Red Keep, a grand dining table was set, and maids bustled about, serving various dishes and fruits.


    Viserys was the first to arrive. He signaled the maids to continue their work and took a seat alone at the table, waiting. Shortly after, Alicent arrived, apanied by several young Targaryens. As the hour grewte, more guests filtered into the hall.


    Viserys was delighted with this long-awaited family feast.


    Half an hourter...Tap...


    Footsteps echoed on the stairs leading to the hall.


    Rhaegar, dressed in luxurious ck attire with his long hair neatlybed, revealing his handsome face, descended the stairs. Rhaenyra held his arm, her long silver hair braided into pigtails, cascading down her waist.


    Before reaching the bottom, Rhaenyra puffed out her cheeks andined in a small voice, "It''s all your fault. I changed into another dress and now we''rete, right?"


    "We''re notte. The banquet hasn''t started yet," Rhaegar reassured her, adding, "Rhaenyra, you know I lost my mother when I was young. I always miss her a little."


    Rhaenyra''s cheeks turned scarlet, and she red at him with a mix of annoyance and embarrassment. Not satisfied, she stomped on his boots.


    "Ouch!" Rhaegar grunted in pain and said, "Don''t be angry. I was being sincere."


    Rhaenyra raised her eyebrows, grabbed his head with both hands, and yfully bit his cheek.


    Rhaegar winced and protested, "Don''t bite! I''ll bite you back!"


    With a row of reddish teeth marks on his cheek, Rhaenyra looked furious.


    This was a habit she couldn''t break since childhood. Whenever she had the chance, she would chew on something, not treating it as food.


    Rhaegar pulled away, rubbing his sore cheek. "You''re a bit of a menace," he muttered, half-amused and half-pained.


    ...


    As the two descended the stairs, the hall below was already filled with people gathered around the tables.


    "Look, herees the hero of the evening!" Viserys announced with a smile, waving his children to their seats.


    "Princess..." Two silver-haired, dark-skinned little girls seated at the table greeted Rhaenyra warmly.


    Rhaenyra, her earlier irritation now dissipated, smiled back, "Ba, Rhaena."


    The two little girls, Laena''s daughters and Rhaenyra��s adopted nieces, were only three years old but already obedient and sensible, endearing themselves to everyone.


    They also greeted Rhaegar politely, and he responded kindly, though his face soon darkened as he took in the scene.


    The table was rectangr, surrounded by members of House Targaryen and their close kin. When Rhaegar and Rhaenyra arrived, everyone took their seats.


    Viserys sat at the head of one side of the long table, with Alicent and Otto to his right. On his left was a seat reserved for the newly arrived siblings. To Otto''s right sat Laenor and a young, unfamiliar silver-haired girl.


    Across from them, from right to left, were Aegon, Hena, Aemond, Daeron, and the twin sisters.


    On one of the broad sides of the table sat the regal Rhaenys. Opposite her were Laena and Daemon, who had just arrived from Driftmark.


    "Rhaegar, take your seat," Rhaenyra said, noticing his difort and tugging at his coat, whispering a reminder.


    Rhaegar touched his cheek, imitating her earlier tone, "Rhaenyra, you''re embarrassing me."


    "Okay, me me then," Rhaenyra replied with a helpless smile, pulling him into a seat. Showing up with a visible bite mark did draw some curious nces, especially from Hena and the other children.


    Seated, Rhaegar looked around the room and smiled without a word.


    Viserys raised his ss and was the first to speak, "My lords, you are all of dragon blood. Wee to this family feast."


    As he spoke, he patted Rhaegar''s shoulder. Rhaegar raised his ss in response, and the others followed suit.


    Viserys made a fewplimentary remarks, clearly pleased, and repeatedly mentioned his eldest son''s uing ageing.


    "Gentlemen, what do you think would be a suitable celebration for a great name day?" he asked, looking around expectantly.


    "Rhaegar has yet to be knighted, so perhaps a tournament could be organized," Rhaenys suggested. This idea had been discussed at the Small Council.


    Since the War for the Stepstones, King''s Landing had hosted numerous banquets and royal hunts, but it had been a long time since they had held a tournament.


    "Not a bad idea, cousin," Viserys said approvingly, though his eyes lingered on Daemon, who was sipping his wine. "Daemon, what do you think?"


    The banquet was intended to ease the strained rtions between Daemon and his nephews. Given the opportunity, Daemon hesitated before speaking.


    "Uh..." Daemon''s eyes shed slightly, his finger tapping his chin as he mused, "Cousin''s words are very insightful. I agree!"


    "Hmph, I agree too," Aegon added from the corner of the table, his tone mocking.


    Daemon nced at him with indifference. This foolish nephew was even more irritating than his great-nephew.


    "Huh," Rhaegar chuckled softly, propping his chin up with both hands. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched the scene unfold.


    Daemon had spent two years in the dungeon, only to be releasedst year. Viserys had justified Daemon''s release as an opportunity for him to make amends.


    Rhaegar didn��t concern himself with Daemon��s supposed "faults"��he doubted his uncle could ever truly challenge him. What he cared about were Daemon��s merits and potential influence.


    Three years ago, during one of their quarrels, Viserys had suggested making Daemon themander of the Narrow Sea to maintain order in the Stepstones.


    Rhaegar had vehemently opposed this idea. In his view, the Stepstones, a strategic and wealth-gathering region constantly at war, should be firmly under royal control, not given to Daemon. He had countered his father''s suggestion, only to be blindsided by an even more shocking proposal from Viserys.


    Viserys proposed granting Aegon the title of Prince of the Stepstones and incorporating the region into the territory of the Targaryen dynasty, with Daemon''s duties in the Narrow Sea under his supervision.


    This proposal was met with near-unanimous opposition from the Red Keep, with Rhaegar leading the dissent.


    Aside from Aegon''s questionable character, abilities, and personal desires, Rhaegar saw the division of the Stepstones as an attack on his own ambitions.


    Traditionally, only the Targaryen heir was given a significant title such as Prince of Dragonstone. Granting such titles to other family members would not only dilute his own power but also cause internal strife.


    The Targaryens were proud and often rebellious, rarely willing to be subordinate. Every generation since Jaehaerys I had seen battles for the throne.


    Granting Aegon his own dominion would be akin to releasing a tiger back into the wild, allowing his ambitions to grow unchecked.


    If Aegon were given a title, would Aemond and Daeron demand the same? And what about their unpredictable uncle Daemon? Should he, too, be grantednds? Where would thesendse from, and how would they affect the stability of the realm?


    Rhaegar mulled over these questions. As king and father, Viserys should have considered these implications too. Yet, despite the evident risks, Viserys seemed determined to divide the kingdom without any clear countermeasures in ce.


    "Rhaegar, what do you think of the tournament?" Viserys asked, a smile on his face, determined to ignore the underlying tension between his sons and brother.


    Viserys knew his eldest son harbored resentment. He had made his adjustments ordingly. Daemon''s two years in prison had been a harsh lesson. Granted, it relied on the premise that neither uncle nor nephew held grudges over their dragon-rted skirmishes.


    Aegon hadn''t been granted control of the entire Stepstones, only a piece of Bloodstone. He remained a prince without the elevated title. Moreover, the fortress on Bloodstone was still under construction, hardly resembling a castle.


    For the past three years, Aegon had served as aborer in the defense of the Stepstones. When he asionally returned to King''s Landing, he often sought refuge in brothels, needing to be dragged out each time.


    For Viserys, he kept potential trouble to a minimum. He did not want to hinder his eldest son''s future. His efforts, though not absolute, left Rhaegar seething but reluctantly epting the current situation. Rhaegar nned to set strict rules to prevent future problems when the opportunity arose.


    Rhaegar''s thoughts returned and he agreed, "No problem. I was just thinking about the knighthood." He could earn a good reputation without having to unt his power.


    "Good, the matter is settled. Let''s discuss the venue for the tournamentter," Viserys said, considering the newly renovated Harrenhal Castle. He hadn��t visited Harrenhal since his falling out with Rhaegar. Hosting the tournament there would provide an opportunity to reconcile and escape King''s Landing for a while.


    With the decision made, the dinner party began. Rhaenyra and Alicent sat to the left and right of Viserys, serving him food. Viserys beamed, enjoying the attention from his wife and daughter.


    Rhaegar, meanwhile, focused on his te, asionally ncing at Aegon and Daemon. Daemon, titled the Lord of the Narrow Sea, technically managed the entire region but realistically only controlled the Stepstones. He had to fend off pirates and the Triarchy''s reprisals, bearing significant responsibility but little power.


    Aegon''s fiefdom on Bloodstone Ind received limited treasury funding, leaving the castle unfinished. He remained under Daemon''smand, tasked with various duties. Over time, Daemon''s arrogance shed with Aegon''sziness, souring their rtionship. Daemon had once disciplined Aegon, deeply offending his nephew.


    Aegon feared Rhaegar but not his uncle, who had been beaten by his elder brother. Aegon continually caused minor troubles, a constant irritation. Despite Daemon��s authority, he couldn��t fully control Aegon.


    Realizing Viserys primarily wanted the Stepstones'' safety maintained, Daemon eventually relinquished his broader responsibilities as Lord of the Narrow Sea. He returned to Driftmark, where Laena awaited him. After two years without touching a woman, Daemon and Laena were fervently reunited.

 Chapter 253: The Pregnancy Comes

    Chapter 253: The Pregnancy Comes


    Rhaenyra sat on a chair, chatting with Laena and the silver-haired girl beside Laenor. She looked gentle, her voice soft, and every move exuded the calm demeanor of a youngdy. Her intellectual beauty was fully emphasized, reflecting a mature woman��s grace.


    ��Celine, you and Laenor are newlyweds. Traveling is a good choice,�� Laena suggested with a hopeful smile. ��I have quite a few friends in Pentos. You could go there for some fun.��


    Celine, the silver-haired girl who appeared at the Targaryen family banquet, was the only daughter of Lord Bartimos Celtigarof w Isle. She had married Laenortest year, in 120 AC, to strengthen the bond between the Celtigar and Vryon Houses.


    Petite with a beautiful face and a few freckles adding to her charm, Celine smiled, albeit forcedly. "I''ll discuss it with Laenor," she said, her knuckles whitening as she gripped her knife and fork.


    Turning to her husband, she asked in a low voice, "What do you think, Laenor?"


    Laenor, not listening to the women, was engrossed in drinking with Aegon. Only when Celine tugged at his sleeve did he turn with a self-assured smile. "Fine, whatever you say," he replied, then continued his drinking.


    For Laenor, paying outward respect to Celine was sufficient for his duties as a husband. Drinking with a brother was far more important. Celine pursed her lips, released her grip on his sleeve, and forced a slightly embarrassed smile at Laena and Rhaenyra.


    Laena''s face went cold for a moment before sheposed herself and sat down next to Celine. She hugged her gently andforted her, "All men are like that. Everything will be fine."


    Laena understood her brother''s behavior very well. It wasn''t that he didn''t appreciate Celine, but hecked the concept of a wife. Rhaenyra, understanding, withdrew her smile. Laenor''s preferences were no secret - he preferred thepany of men to women.Celine leaned into Laena��s embrace, her voice barely a whisper, "I��m still a virgin."


    Laena stroked her head, speaking candidly, "Don��t worry, men are fickle. You��re only sixteen. There��s plenty of time. Rhaenyra and I were both past twenty before we lost our virginity."


    "Laena!" Rhaenyra��s voice rose slightly, her eyes widening.


    Talking about such matters in private was one thing, but it was unseemly at a banquet. Laena turned and said frankly, "Am I wrong?"


    Rhaenyra was speechless and moved back to her seat, deciding not to interact further. She wasn��t married and felt she couldn''tpare to Laena, who was a wife and mother.


    Laena, unfazed, continued tofort Celine with her personal insights. She and Daemon had been married for years, and she had seen it all. This was just a small scene.


    "Huh," Daemon chuckled from the side, unable to hold back hisughter. He appreciated Laena''s broad-mindedness, unrestrained by trivial conventions. She truly was the perfect match for him.


    Hearing hisughter, Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and returned to her seat next to Rhaegar. Since Daemon''s return to Driftmark, she had visited Laena only once.


    That visit had ended awkwardly when she stumbled upon Daemon and Laena in an intimate moment on the balcony, with Aunt Rhaenys witnessing the scene alongside her. Since then, anymunication with Laena was done through ravens and invitations.


    Rhaegar teased her, "Why are you back and not talking again?"


    His keen senses had picked up the women''s conversation. Rhaenyra, feeling annoyed, threatened him through gritted teeth, "Don''t push it, Rhaegar."


    Feigning surrender, Rhaegar raised his hands and said, "Fine, you''re the queen, you''re the boss."


    Rhaenyra hummed proudly and began helping him with his food. Suddenly, Rhaegar leaned closer and hooked his finger under her chin, directing her gaze across the table. "Look, Rhaenyra."


    She reluctantly turned her head, wondering what he was pointing out. There, in front of her, Aegon and Laenor were drinking happily. Rhaenyra scanned the scene, puzzled. "What am I supposed to see?"


    "Look below their waists," Rhaegar hinted mysteriously.


    Rhaenyra lowered her gaze, following the line of their shoulders, chest, abdomen, waist, and then��


    She grabbed Rhaegar''s arm, her mouth agape in surprise. Aegon and Laenor, leaning close with their shoulders touching, were groping each other under the table, smiles stered on their faces.


    Rhaenyra quickly looked away, flustered. "They..."


    She wanted to ask how long this had been going on, but was too embarrassed to speak openly.


    Rhaegar''s mouth curled into a sly smile, and he whispered, "Three years."


    He exined that after Vaemond''s funeral, during an inspection visit to the Stepstones, he hadnded his dragon on Bloodstone Ind and unexpectedly found Aegon and Laenor in apromising position on the grass.


    Cannibal''s wings had created a gust of wind that scattered their clothes, leaving the two naked and exposed.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes widened in shock. "I can''t believe it''s been this long."


    "They were stationed on the Stepstones for years, without any women around. It was only natural they turned to each other," Rhaegar said, sharing his secret with ease.


    Aegon, ever the wanderer, was unbothered by boundaries and Laenor had simply capitalized on their istion. Rhaenyra covered her mouth, stifling a giggle. Among the nobility, such affairs were not unheard of, and she found humor in the situation rather than scandal.


    Rhaenyraughed quietly, feeling like a young girl sharing a mischievous secret.


    When the twins turned one, they left Driftmark and moved to King''s Landing or Dragonstone with Rhaenyra. Despite not having a deep bond with their birth mother, Laena, they still missed her.


    Ba, bold and outgoing, hugged Laena''s thigh, tilting her face up. "Mother, did you have another baby?" she asked loudly enough for everyone to hear.


    The room fell silent, and all eyes turned to Laena. She paused, stroking Ba''s silver hair, unsure how to respond.


    Rhaena, hugging Laena��s other thigh, pressed her face against her mother��s skirt. "Mother, father said you��re going to give us a little brother," she said in a sticky, affectionate voice.


    Laena shot an annoyed nce at her innocent-looking husband. They had agreed to keep it a secret to avoid upsetting their daughters and Celine.


    Daemon shrugged casually. "The kids have a right to know," he said.


    Laena, frustrated butposed, took a deep breath and ced her hands on her daughters'' heads. Addressing everyone, she announced, "I''m pregnant. The maester says it''s been almost two months."


    A smile crept across her face, radiating a maternal glow.


    "Congrattions, Laena," Rhaenyra eximed, rising from her chair to embrace her friend. The others followed suit, offering their congrattions, especially Viserys, who pped enthusiastically.


    "Good! The Targaryens will have another newborn," he beamed. Every new heir for House Targaryen was precious.


    "Thank you, brother," Daemon said with a chuckle, standing up despite Laena''s irritated look. He lifted his wine ss in a toast. "Gentlemen, I am to have another child, a Targaryen heir!"


    "Well, congrattions, Prince Daemon," Otto Hightower responded first, pping his hands. He knew how to keep the atmosphere lively, especially with his daughter and grandchildren present.


    Viserys was overjoyed, raising his ss and drinking hurriedly, spilling wine down his front. Rhaegar also apuded, scanning the room.


    While his father and Rhaenyra''s smiles were genuine, Otto, Alicent, and a few younger brothers were more perfunctory. Helena was in her own world, ying with grapes. Laenor and his wife��s smiles were stiff, not heartfelt, and Aunt Rhaenys was silent, her expression stern.


    Rhaegar frowned slightly, sensing the tension.


    Out of the blue, Aegon asked, "Cousin, when will you and your sister-inw have a child?"


    "Aegon!" Laenor''s face darkened, and he nudged him.


    Aegon continued teasing, "You''ll have to work harder. Lord Corlys has been waiting for a grandson to inherit Driftmark."


    Daemon chimed in yfully, "Yes, to have a pure Vryon with salt in his blood."


    Laenor blushed and put down his ss. "I''ve only been married less than a year. There will be plenty of opportunities," he said quietly.


    "Very well, a nice deration," Aegon retorted, sarcasm


    Despite their casual rtionship, Aegon and Laenor had little to do with each other. Aegon had never been fond of House Vryon.


    Daemon leaned back in his chair, a smirk ying on his lips as he observed the unfolding drama.


    Laenor''s chest heaved with anger, ready to retort.


    "Laenor, sit down and keep your wifepany," Laena interjected, her voicemanding attention and diffusing the tension.


    Celine sat with her head bowed, fingers nervously twisting together, her eyes rimmed with redness. It wasn��t that she didn��t want children; her husband simply never gave her the chance.

 Chapter 254: Inheritance

    Chapter 254: Inheritance


    Celine was filled with regret. She should have insisted on annulling the marriage; at least then, she might have found happiness.


    Since marrying Laenor, she spent most of her time alone or witnessing him flirt with his personal knight. The very thought made her stomach churn.


    Laenor and Laena were close, often listening to their sister. Reluctantly, Laenor sat back down beside Celine, forcing a smile. "Don''t worry, we''ll have a baby."


    Celine''s eyes were numb with disappointment. "Can you?"


    Laenor''s forced smile faltered as he took a long gulp of wine. The words stung. A man couldn��t admit he couldn��t perform, but... he truly couldn''t. Despite his efforts, he couldn''t muster the desire to be with his wife. This filled him with guilt and made him avoid her even more. People tend to run from their ws.


    The room fell into an awkward silence until Viserys broke it by introducing a new topic. "Daemon, you should cherish your wife. She''s a treasure."


    Daemon''s slight conflicts with Laena hadn''t gone unnoticed by Viserys. "As it should be," Daemon replied lightly.


    Rhaenyra, stroking Laena''s t belly, smiled. "When the baby is born, what will you name it?"


    "Do you think it''s a boy or a girl?" Laena asked, her eyes sparkling."You''ve already thought of a name?" Rhaenyra was surprised.


    "Of course, I think about it all the time," Laena said, pressing Rhaenyra''s hand. "If it''s a girl, we''ll name her after you."


    "What about a boy?" Rhaenyra asked, intrigued.


    Laena turned to Rhaegar, who was eating his melon. "A boy will be named Rhaegar. It''s a good, strong name."


    Rhaegar, feeling the attention on him, humbly said, "My name is quitemon, not as noble as you say."


    Viserys''s face darkened. "Rhaegar, your mother chose that name before she died. Don''t belittle it."


    "Sorry, father," Rhaegar apologized immediately.


    Viserys, still annoyed, said to Laena, "Use the name Rhaegar. I hope your child will be just as remarkable."


    "Thank you, Your Grace," Laena said gratefully.


    Viserys waved it off, his affection for the name Rhaegar evident. It was the name his wife had called out on her deathbed. For her, he had foregone naming his eldest son after his father, Baelon Targaryen.


    The mood of the feast brightened after this exchange. Rhaenyra and Laena chatted a bit more before Rhaenyra returned to her seat, her eyes burning with a different intensity as she looked at Rhaegar.


    "What''s the matter?" Rhaegar asked, feeling a shiver run down his spine.


    Rhaenyra shook her head and folded her hands on her belly.


    Rhaegar understood immediately and shook his head. Rhaenyra and he aren''t even married yet. They cannot follow Laena''s example.


    "Rhaegar, be careful," Rhaenyra warned. "I don''t want to stain my dress or drink tea again."


    Rhaegar, hesitantly, said, "I have a small fortune. I can afford dozens of dresses."


    The maester had advised against drinking too much moon tea, so it''s usually just a matter of changing clothes or taking a shower.


    "I don''t care. I''m not amodating you anymore," Rhaenyra said sternly.


    Rhaegar smiled helplessly. The feeling of impending trouble was not pleasant. Often, he couldn��t do as he wished. Rhaenyra held the initiative.


    ...


    Three dayster, it was midday at the Dragonpit. Rhaenyra and Rhaegar entered under the escort of the Dragonkeepers. Rhaegar''s name day had already passed, and the recent family feasts had doubled as his celebration. Now, Rhaegar was preparing to return to Harrenhal for the uing tournament.


    King Viserys had announced the tournament across the Seven Kingdoms, inviting nobles from all corners to attend. Due to some nobles residing in remote areas, the event was scheduled for mid-summer, half a year away, to ensure everyone had ample time to travel.


    Inside the Dragonpit, Rhaegar immediately heard a sharp dragon roar, followed by Daemon''s low voice. "You are Caraxes, a mighty dragon."


    Rhaegar continued walking, observing the dim interior of the Dragonpit. Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm, was prostrate on the ground, his snake-like neck stretching and his slender body twisting. One of his wings pped normally while the other drooped, shackled and secured by a steel cor.


    During thest dragon battle on Driftmark Ind, Caraxes had suffered severe damage to one of his wings.


    After two years of recuperation on the rocks of Driftmark , his wing was repaired, but it was so distorted that it couldn''t keep bnce. Recently released from captivity, Daemon had been the first to visit his dragon, and was disappointed by Caraxes'' condition.


    Daemon had taken drastic measures, binding Caraxes with chains and amputating the deformed part with an axe, then bandaging the wound. The dragon''s roar during this procedure was said to be heard throughout Driftmark, nearly provoking the sleeping Vhagar.


    Daemon''s methods, though extreme, were somewhat effective. Dragons are resilient and can heal over time. Caraxes was silent for another year, but its wounds were mostly healed and its bone grafts were in good shape. In another year and a half, it would be able to fly again.


    As Rhaegar approached, he saw Daemon rubbing the scarlet scales of Caraxes. Daemon wasn''t alone; his two daughters were with him. The introverted Rhaena clung to Daemon''s coat, looking at Caraxes with a mix of fear and envy. Ba, bolder, circled around Caraxes''s neck, observing intently.


    After a while, Ba asked, "Father, when will my sister and I''s dragon eggs hatch?"


    She had a green egg, while her sister had a red egg with ck spots. Neither showed signs of hatching.


    Daemon replied, "Don''t be anxious. The dragon egg will choose its owner and the time of its birth."


    "When is that?" Ba looked puzzled.


    "I don''t know," Daemon said tly.


    "No?" Ba eximed, surprised that her seemingly omnipotent father didn''t have an answer.


    Daemon remained calm, murmuring, "Be patient. You are my daughters, and it is your destiny to be dragon riders."


    The probability of a dragon egg hatching is not high, especially when ced in a baby''s cradle. This tradition, dating back to when Rhaenys ced eggs for her brother Jaehaerys, had little sess.


    Over the years, only Jaehaerys and Rhaenyra had sessfully hatched eggs in their cradles. Daemon himself, his brother Viserys, their cousin Rhaenys, and many nieces and nephews, including Rhaegar, had failed.


    The dragon egg in the cradle tradition had be more of a symbolic blessing for future generations.


    Ba nodded earnestly. "Alright, I''ll go back and take good care of the dragon eggs."


    "Me too," Rhaena agreed, raising her hand.


    Rhaegar approached, deliberately deepening his footsteps to announce his arrival.


    Daemon turned his head at the sound, seeing his nephew and nieceing together. He nced at them briefly before turning away, uninterested. Except for his brother Viserys, no one in House Targaryen paid him much heed, and he reciprocated the sentiment.


    Rhaenyra and Rhaegar exchanged a look, curiosity evident in their eyes. The tension between Daemon and Laena and Laenor had been palpable at the recent family banquet.


    Rhaenyra took the lead, asking, "Uncle, why aren''t you with Laena?"


    Daemon frowned. "Pregnant women are moodier than dragons."


    Ba and Rhaena hurriedly greeted him, exining, "Grandmother is with Mother. They have something to discuss."


    After the Battle of the Stepstones, the kingdom was at peace. When the Sea Snake stepped down as Commander of the Navy, Viserys had invited him to be te Master of Ships.


    Sea Snake had declined, citing the need to recuperate, and stayed on Driftmark. Rhaenys, as the Master of Dragons, traveled between King''s Landing and Driftmark, asionally acting as godmother to several of her cousins. It was a demanding role, but she managed it to keep the Targaryens and Valyrians united.


    Picking up on the subtext, Rhaenyra''s eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Uncle, did you and Laena argue about the baby?"


    Daemon shook his head impatiently. "You��re supposed to be heading back to the Rivends. Hurry up and go."


    Rhaenyra tugged at Rhaegar��s sleeve, winking. Daemon seemed anxious.


    Rhaegar''s thoughts aligned quickly. He asked bluntly, "Laena wants to name the baby as Laenor''s heir?"


    Daemon''s hand, which was stroking Caraxes, paused. He turned his head, eyes cold.


    Rhaegar spread his hands, smiling. "Looks like I guessed right."


    Laenor couldn��t have children, and the Vryon House needed an heir. Laena��s child was the perfect candidate, possessing both Vryon and Targaryen blood.


    "You guessed wrong, but you''re close," Daemon admitted, annoyed. He took his daughters�� hands and said, "Corlys wants me to name one of my daughters, or Laena''s unborn fourth child, as the heir to House Vryon."


    "That doesn''t seem harsh. Your child would legally inherit Driftmark," Rhaegar reasoned.


    Daemon��s eyes narrowed. "Would you let your child give up their family name for a piece of territory?"

 Chapter 255: Highgarden Rose

    Chapter 255: Highgarden Rose


    The Targaryen and Vryon Houses, both noble houses of ancient Valyria, have shared a deep bond throughout history. Together, they survived the Doom of Valyria, but notable differences set them apart.


    The Targaryens possess dragons, the rightful rulers of the skies, with the power to conquer the Seven Kingdoms. The Vryons, who im salt in their blood, are revered as the Lords of the Tides.


    For centuries, these two houses have been intricately linked. Today, Sea Snake Corlys Vryon is married to Princess Rhaenys, and their children have takenmand of dragons. However, the perceived weakness of King Viserys has led the Vryons to look down on the royal family.


    The emergence of Rhaegar Targaryen has shifted this dynamic. By establishing the Dragon Laws, he disqualified the next generation of Vryons from controlling dragons. Without dragons, the Vryons are diminished, no longer holding the unique power they once did.


    Daemon''s children, pure Targaryens, are born with the bloodline and qualifications tomand dragons. For them to adopt the Vryon name would mean renouncing their royal heritage and the right to rule dragons. Daemon, a solitary figure, even refused to father an heir with his former wife, Lady Rhea, to inherit Runestone. How could he allow his child to forgo the Targaryen name for Driftmark?


    Rhaegar, understanding Daemon''s perspective, shook his head. "I am not a father yet, but my child is my child, and that cannot be changed." The Targaryen identity was far more significant than being a Vryon, and Daemon��s pride in the Targaryen name meant he would never let his children give it up.


    If Daemon had not valued this pride, he wouldn��t have risked his life by returning to Driftmark with Laena to fight for his daughters'' rights. Finding some agreement in Rhaegar''s words, Daemon��s irritation eased slightly.


    Laena had been pressing him about the inheritance. Corlys''s offer wasn''t unreasonable, but Daemon couldn��t bring himself to agree. To him, it felt dishonorable for his children to change their name.


    With a sneer, Daemon expressed his contempt for Laenor. "I pray that Laenor, that failure, can father a child so the Sea Snake can have a grandchild to inherit his legacy." If Laenor were capable, none of this would be an issue.Rhaegarughed and shook his head. "Laenor can��t be with women. It��s nearly impossible."


    If Laenor could fulfill this role, there wouldn��t be so much trouble.


    Daemon��s eyes shed with disdain. "Gender is just an illusion. It''s the outer skin that matters. A real man should sleep with whomever he wants."


    Rhaegar was momentarily speechless, taken aback by Daemon''s blunt philosophy. These words disrupted his understanding, and he quickly crushed the unsettling thoughts forming in his mind. ncing at Rhaenyra, he hurriedly dispelled any improper notions.


    Daemon smirked and spoke in a patronizing tone, "You should try different women more often. It��s the only way to grow."


    He then nced at Rhaenyra and added, "No matter how good the main course is, any vor can get boring."


    Rhaegar stepped in front of Rhaenyra, understanding the implication. He replied calmly, "Uncle, everyone has different tastes and habits."


    "You might be right," he continued. "I used to dislike wine, but now I enjoy my own sweet fruit wine. However, I still long for the sweets I��ve loved since childhood."


    Rhaegar��s voice was firm and sincere. The Targaryens were known for their deep desires, but that didn��t mean there was no loyalty. He wasn��t like his father and uncle, who frequented brothels.


    With that, he took Rhaenyra''s hand and squeezed it gently. Rhaenyra lifted her chin and gave Daemon a cold look. She despised those who encouraged Rhaegar to stray.


    "Whatever," Daemon scoffed. "Enjoying the most abundant rights in the world while suppressing your nature is ridiculous."


    Rhaegar frowned at the usation. Rhaenyra tugged his hand and said dismissively, "Ignore him. Laena is pregnant and won''t let him on the ship, so he''s holding his fire."


    She knew Daemon''s persuasive nature all too well. She had once been tempted by his mantra of "sleep with whoever you want." In hindsight, it was an irresponsible notion. How can one be responsible for their family and loved ones if consumed by desire?


    Rhaegar nodded, deciding not to argue. Everyone has different tastes and habits. Daemon was Daemon, and he was himself. They were different people and didn��t need to conform to each other��s ways.


    The siblings walked hand in hand towards the Dragonpit in search of their dragons. Daemon watched them go, his eyes glinting with stubbornness. He whispered, "This is your nature, and this is what a Targaryen is."


    ...


    Harrenhal


    A deste ruin on the northern shore of Lake God''s Eye, had seen better days. Now, its crumbling walls and steep hillside were the backdrop for a peculiar gathering. Hundreds of rough-hewnborers clustered around several massive, thick iron cauldrons.


    The task was both strange and arduous. They removed stones and mud from the damaged walls and threw them into the cauldrons, mixing in dark, sticky dragon dung.


    "Roar..."


    A dragon''s roar pierced the air as severalrge orange and white fireballs descended into the cauldrons.


    With a sizzle and a hiss, the materials within the cauldrons began to melt into a liquid form. Standing tall and imposing, the priest Tru recited incantations, urging the formation of ck dragonstone.


    Momentster, the cauldrons contained a boiling, bubbling solution of ckstone. The workers hurriedly ced half-high stone jars beneath the cauldrons. Supported by two brackets, the cauldrons tilted, pouring the molten solution into the stone jars.


    Workers inserted t loads into the arm-thick holes at either end of the jars, then carried them away to pour the solution onto the foundation of the demolished wall. Hundreds of workers worked in unison, and in less than half an hour a towering section of wall over ten meters long had taken shape.


    The workers dispersed, not out ofziness, but because of the demanding nature of their material supplier. Nearby, a light-gray dragony at the base of the wall, its head droopingzily, its tail flicking asionally.


    A team of ck-armored guards arrived, leading several fat, strong goats. The goats walked slowly in front of the dragon, known as Gray Ghost, who lifted his eyelids, looked at them, and then opened his mouth to release a dragonfire.


    "Baa~~"


    The goats screamed as they were incinerated, transforming into charred roasted meat. Gray Ghost stretched his neck, devoured them slowly, and burped, releasing a sulfuric scent into the air.


    Once Gray Ghost finished its meal, Tru ordered theborers to prepare for the next round of dragonstone smelting. In the past, the powerful Cannibal dragon had been used to melt dragonstone, but its fire was too intense, often injuring workers and destroying containers.


    Now, Gray Ghost was the primary dragon for this task, with Syrax and Dreamfire asionally rotating in.


    "Roar..."


    A fierce wind stirred as a ck dragon''s shadow crossed the vast Lake of God''s Eye, soaring above Harrenhal. A golden dragon followed closely, bothnding in the courtyard of the Kingspyre and Widow��s Towers.


    ...


    The Kingspyre Tower


    Rhaegar entered his castle, Kingspyre Tower, with a rxed air. Despite its grandeur, the castlecked the solidity he desired. Still, he found the picturesque scenery, pleasant surroundings, and mild climate of Harrenhal far morefortable than the foul-smelling gutters of King''s Landing.


    As he entered the Hall of a Hundred Hearths, Tormund and Grey Worm approached, each carrying a white falcon on their shoulders.


    "Prince Rhaegar," they greeted him respectfully.


    Rhaegar nodded. "What is it?"


    Tormund, his chief of intelligence, and Grey Worm,mander of the Harrenhal garrison, were his trusted confidants. Their presence signaled something important.


    Tormund gently coughed and produced two letters from his pocket, speaking softly, "A letter from Highgarden and one from Riverrun."


    Rhaegar took the letters and began to read. Momentster, Rhaenyra, wearing a red strapless dress, approached with a curious look.


    "What are you looking at?" she asked.


    "See for yourself," Rhaegar replied, handing her one of the letters.


    Rhaenyra took the letter and read it carefully. The elegant handwriting was unmistakably feminine, and the letter was filled with borate expressions of admiration for Rhaegar.


    "It''s from the daughter of the Lord of Highgarden, Margaery Tyrell," Rhaegar exined.


    "Hmph, what a rotten Highgarden rose," Rhaenyra scoffed, pping the letter yfully against Rhaegar''s chest. "Someone wrote you a love letter. Why don''t you hurry up and answer it?"


    Rhaegar took her hand andughed softly. "Roses have thorns. I wouldn''t dare pluck them indiscriminately."


    The content of the letter was bold and explicit, undeniably a love letter. It included an invitation for Rhaegar to visit Highgarden, which piqued his interest. Old Tyrell had recently lost his heir, making Highgarden a political powder keg. Margaery''s letter at such a tumultuous time made Rhaegar suspicious of her intentions.


    Rhaenyra crossed her arms, skeptical. She remembered how innocent Rhaegar had been with Jeyne at first, even refusing her invitations. But when she wasn''t looking, their rtionship had blossomed. Rhaenyra was wary of history repeating itself.


    Seeing her doubt, Rhaegar handed her the other note.


    Rhaenyra took it reluctantly, her eyes never leaving Rhaegar''s face. She read the message from Riverrun and gasped, "Old Lord Tully is bedridden?"


    The letter exined that Grover Tully was incapacitated, leaving Riverrun leaderless and in chaos. His two sons were vying for power, each gathering petty nobles andndless knights, resulting in daily martial duels.

 Chapter 256: Ridiculous Demands

    Chapter 256: Ridiculous Demands


    Rhaegar sighed. "Things have escted. Elmo is under house arrest by his two uncles and managed to send me a letter."


    Rhaenyra''s expression became serious. "You must go to Riverrun. We can''t have chaos there."


    Old Tully''s illness had left a power vacuum, and the antics of his sons threatened the stability of the Rivends.


    Rhaegar nodded. "It is necessary to intervene."


    Despite Old Tully''s mediocrity and stubbornness, he had remained loyal to the Crown. Rhaegar could not ignore the unrest in Riverrun.


    He turned to Grey Worm. "Prepare to leave tonight. Take some men and go to Riverrun."


    "How many shall I bring?" Grey Worm asked, tightening his grip on his spear.


    "Fifty Unsullied and fifty Fearless should suffice," Rhaegar replied.


    The Fearless, infantry soldiers trained by Grey Worm, were formidable, even if not quite at the level of the Unsullied. Harrenhal''s defense relied mainly on Fearless patrols.Grey Worm''s eyes shed with determination. "Yes, Prince."


    In Riverrun, where the garrison usually didn''t exceed a thousand, a hundred men would ensure Rhaegar''s safety.


    Rhaegar nced at Tormund and Grey Worm. "Anything else to report?"


    If not, he could finally rest.


    Grey Worm hesitated, then spoke. "Prince, Maester Tru wishes to return to the Citadel to regain his status as Maester. He has been helping with the repairs at Harrenhal."


    Tru, a renamed Maester, preferred not to be called one, but was still respected at Harrenhal, where he taught the children to read and write.


    Rhaegar thought for a moment, then smiled. "Tell him not to worry. I''ll arrange for him to be sent to Oldtown soon."


    Grey Worm sighed in relief and nodded respectfully before withdrawing. He had taken hisnguage lessons with Tru seriously.


    Rhaegar then turned to Tormund, who hadn''t left. "What is it?"


    Tormund smiled helplessly. "The Faith of the Seven is sending two priests to the sanctuary inside the castle."


    Rhaegar frowned. "It''s not a big deal. Just don''t let them roam around. Think of them as extra hands for the sanctuary."


    He did not like the Faith of the Seven. The upper ranks did little more than collect money from the nobles, while the lower ranks were often poor and hoped for miracles from the Seven Gods. Although some sincere believers did good work, they were often naive and made unreasonable demands.


    As expected, the priests not only settled in the sanctuary but also started making requests.


    Tormund''s expression was troubled. "Prince, they want you to fund a 30-foot bronze statue of the Mother for the sanctuary."


    Rhaegar chuckled at the absurdity. "Do they have any idea how much bronze that would take?"


    Copper was highly prized in Westeros, along with gold and silver. The request for a massive bronze statue was absurd.


    Tormund patted the restless white hawk on his shoulder and spoke softly, "ording to the priests, this request is negotiable."


    "They im that the loss of the Old Gods'' faith in Harrenhal and your restoration of the sanctuary is a sign that the Seven Gods want their faith to spread in the Rivends. As the Targaryen prince, they believe you should set an example by promoting the faith of the Seven Gods in this region."


    The Rivends were ancientnds with many noble families still loyal to the Old Gods, their sacred weirwood trees standing as a testament to their beliefs. The Faith of the Seven had long sought to convert these families.


    Rhaegar smirked, recognizing the priests'' ploy. After a brief pause, he said, "Tell them that the Mother is indeedpassionate and holy. I willmission a ten-foot wooden statue for worship. They should not ask for more."


    His resources were tied up in maintaining his army, forging armor, and weapons. There was no surplus to indulge the priests'' grandiose ns.


    Tormund''s eyes twinkled with understanding. "I''ll convey your message appropriately, Prince."


    The Faith of the Seven was a unique presence on the continent. They couldn''t be fought or ignored, and their audacity in asking for funds was unmatched. To refuse would be to disrespect the Seven Gods and invite judgment.


    ...


    Two dayster.


    Riverrun.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal hovered over the city, surveying the tiny figures scurrying below.


    The soldiers on the walls quickly lowered the drawbridge, and the gates creaked open.


    Cannibal descended slowly, and Rhaegar dismounted from the dragon''s back.


    He patted Cannibal''s scales and said, "Rest close by."


    "Roar..." Cannibal responded with a low growl, its green eyes sweeping over the people on the walls before it turned and took off.


    "Prince, you''re here," Grey Worm greeted, leading a team out of the city.


    "Let''s go in," Rhaegarmanded.


    "Yes, Prince," Grey Worm replied, positioning himself just behind Rhaegar and leading the soldiers in two lines as they entered the city.


    As they crossed the drawbridge, Rhaegar surveyed the garrison of Riverrun. The soldiers, heads bowed, guarded the walls. It was evident that Lord Tully''s illness had severely affected the household.


    "Take me to see Lord Grover first," Rhaegar instructed.


    His primary concern was the old lord''s health. Grover Tully needed to be alive to ensure a smooth transition of power. His premature death couldplicate matters.


    Grey Worm led the way, pushing aside guards as they made their way to the main tower, seeking the Lord''s quarters. The absence of Grover''s sons and Elmo was noticeable, and the usually lively city was eerily quiet.


    The main tower and walls of Riverrun were constructed from white stone. The Lord''s residence was in the lower level of the tower''s attic. Rhaegar and his escort quickly arrived there.


    In front of an aged wooden door, two knights stood guard. Upon seeing Rhaegar, they quickly saluted, "Greetings, Prince."


    These were Grover Tully''s loyal knights.


    Rhaegar raised a hand and said, "At ease. I havee to visit Lord Grover."


    One knight spoke softly, "Prince, the maesters are treating Lord Tully inside. Please keep the noise down to avoid disturbing his recovery."


    "Don''t worry, I will just take a quick look," Rhaegar assured him, respecting the knight''s concern.


    The knight saluted gratefully, and the other opened the door, stepping back silently.


    Leaving Grey Worm at the door, Rhaegar entered the room alone.


    As soon as he entered the room, the strong smell of medicine hit his nose.


    Rhaegar instinctively covered his nose and mouth, then walked in with measured steps, his eyes taking in the surroundings.


    Riverrun was not arge city, and the lord''s residence reflected that modesty. The stone walls were decorated with various swords, stag heads, and candlesticks, giving the room a rustic charm. A round table of solid wood upied the center, and a cozy goose feather cushiony near the firece.


    A fire crackled in the hearth, the pine crackling as it burned.


    A middle-aged maester sat on the edge of the cushion, diligently recording the lord''s condition with a goose quill. "Low-grade fever, unconsciousness, regr bloodletting in half a bowl..."


    Rhaegar approached quietly, his gaze fixed on Lord Grover Tully as hey unconscious on the soft cushions. The old lord''s face was pale, his eyes closed. A damp towel rested on his forehead and a thick nket covered his frail body.


    Rhaegar��s presence startled the maester, who looked up in surprise. "Prince, when did you enter?"


    Rhaegar put a finger to his lips. "Hush! Don''t disturb the patient."


    The maester, looking somewhat embarrassed, replied, "Of course, Prince. The Lord has been in aa for several days now, and there is still no sign of improvement."


    "Have you finished your examination?" Rhaegar asked.


    "Yes, Prince."


    "Then leave us."


    The maester bowed and left the room. Alone with the unconscious lord, Rhaegar sat down on the cushion beside him. He removed the damp towel from Grover��s forehead, feeling its coldness. It was no longer suitable for use.


    Throwing it aside, Rhaegar spoke softly, "Old man, I advised you long ago to decide on a sessor, but you hesitated."


    Grover Tully��s heir was his grandson, Elmo Tully, but the old lord had stubbornly clung to the traditional sessionws of Westeros. ording to Andal Session Laws, if an heir''s eldest son died, the line of session would pass to the second son, bypassing the grandson.


    Elmo, as the eldest grandson, found himself third in line. Grover��s two sons were seen as inept, yet the old lord couldn��t bring himself to bypass them, causing endless strife and dy in naming Elmo as his sessor.


    As if in response to Rhaegar��s words, Grover��s lips moved slightly, and he gasped a few times.


    Rhaegar leaned closer, hopeful for a moment, but the old lord soon fell silent again.


    Disappointed, Rhaegar rolled his eyes. "If scolding could wake you up, I��d have tried that ages ago."


    He soaked the towel in warm water and ced it back on Grover��s forehead. The smell of medicine in the room was overpowering, prompting Rhaegar to stand and leave.


    As he moved, he stepped on something soft with a crunch. Looking down, he saw a few pieces of melon rind. Crouching, he picked up a piece and nced under the cushions.


    It was clean but dark beneath, and there was no dust. Rhaegar discarded the melon rind, shaking his head with a wry smile.

 Chapter 257: The Champion of the Tournament

    Chapter 257: The Champion of the Tournament


    Leaving the lord''s chamber, Rhaegar ordered the two knights to stand guard and made his way directly to the main tower.


    "Where are Lord Tully''s two sons?" he asked, walking briskly.


    Gray Worm responded, "In the Godswood. They have been sending people to duel every day."


    "Lead the way. I want to see this for myself," Rhaegarmanded.


    Gray Worm nodded and called for a few Unsullied to follow, then led Rhaegar toward the Godswood.


    The Godswood of Riverrun was situated in a secluded corner of the city. It was a serene and verdant garden, filled with weirwoods, flowers, streams, and birds nesting in the trees.


    Rhaegar and his escort crossed a small bridge over the river that encircled the main tower, entering the peaceful area of the Godswood.


    As they approached, the sound of shing steel rang out. The small clearing within the Godswood was crowded with spectators.


    Two groups of people stood at opposite ends, one from the south and one from the north."Prince!" A ck-haired boy at the edge of the crowd shouted in surprise upon seeing Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar looked up. "Elmo, you''re out."


    Elmo, the grandson of Lord Grover Tully, had mentioned in his letter two days earlier that he was under house arrest by his uncles.


    Elmo quickly approached, looking relieved. "Thanks to your guards, Prince, I was able to leave my room."


    Rhaegar nced back at Gray Worm, who nodded in acknowledgment.


    Gray Worm had discreetly helped Elmo out of his confinement. The boy''s house arrest was not strictly enforced, and when Gray Worm''s men arrived in Riverrun, they were able to contact Elmo and facilitate his release.


    Rhaegar examined Elmo��s attire, noting it was still that of a nobleman, unchanged from before.


    He frowned slightly and asked bluntly, "Your uncles ced you under house arrest, and you let them get away with it?"


    Elmo lowered his head in shame. "They acted too quickly. I didn��t have time to react."


    Rhaegar''s voice grew colder. "If you had a way to send a message, why didn''t you contact the knights loyal to your father and rally them to your cause?"


    The old Tully''s deceased eldest son might have been mediocre, but he had been the heir for over twenty years. Elmo, as his only son, could certainly garner support if he made an effort.


    Caught off guard by Rhaegar��s questions, Elmo stammered, "My grandfather is only sick. It hasn��te to that yet."


    "Fool!" Rhaegar snapped, pointing an using finger at Elmo''s nose. "If it hasn��t reached that point, why did you write to me, asking me toe to Riverrun to watch this farce?"


    Rhaegar, a prince and heir to the kingdom, had respected Lord Grover Tully. But Elmo''s failure to handle his own affairs and his plea for outside help tested that respect.


    Elmo, frightened, tried to exin, "Prince, I��"


    "Get out of my sight. I don''t have time for your excuses," Rhaegar interrupted, pushing past him toward the depths of the Godswood.


    Elmo, desperate to apologize, tried to follow.


    "Stand down, Elmo," Gray Wormmanded, his spear barring the way.


    Elmo reluctantlyplied, backing away.


    Rhaegar, hearing themotion behind him, clenched his teeth in frustration. "Pathetic!"


    If the Tully House produced more heirs like Elmo, the royal family might need to reconsider their role as the guardians of the Rivends. Not only were they failing to manage their ownnds, but they also couldn��t handle internal family disputes.


    Keeping such a weak lineage as protectors of the Rivends was bing increasingly untenable.


    ...


    Deep within the Godswood, Lord Tully''s two sons were locked in a heated confrontation.


    The second son, Milov Tully, stood as thin as a reed, nked by a dozen horsemen in mismatched armor. Most conspicuous were two priests in robes embroidered with the seven-pointed star, signifying their allegiance to the Faith of the Seven. These priests were simr to the ones Rhaegar had encountered at Harrenhal.


    Standing opposite Milov was his red-haired, burly brother, Edmure Tully. Rhaegar cast a disdainful nce at Edmure, repulsed.


    The name Edmure Tully carried considerable weight in their family history, much like the prestige of Aegon Targaryen within House Targaryen. To bestow such a venerable name on this rotund, ipetent figure seemed a disservice to their ancestors.


    Edmure''s side also boasted arge retinue of mostly unruly knights. However, one individual stood out to Rhaegar-a middle-aged man with striking gray-blue eyes.


    He wore silver-gray armor of obvious quality, with a broadsword at his side. A silver eagle crest adorned one corner of his armor, the symbol of House Mallister of Seagard.


    Seagard, on the coast of the Rivends, was one of the few cities with a maritime border. The Mallisters, with their noble and proud bearing, had once ruled the Trident as kings.


    Rhaegar took note but did not pause, his footsteps drawing the attention of both factions who turned to look.


    "Prince... Prince..." they stammered, saluting as he approached.


    Rhaegar, who had known Lord Tully before he moved to Harrenhal, was a familiar and respected figure in Riverrun. After the fall of House Bracken, he had risen to be the de facto ruler of the Rivends, a name known throughout the region.


    With little patience for pleasantries, Rhaegar waved them aside. The disheveled knights, in the midst of their duel, quickly retreated, unwilling to offend him.


    Rhaegar walked straight up to the middle-aged man of House Mallister and asked, "Lord Mallister, what brings you here?"


    Lord Mallister, the head of his house, was no ordinary family member. Rhaegar had met him on several asions. Despite his loyalty to the realm, Mallister had never sworn personal allegiance to Rhaegar, maintaining that his allegiance was to the king alone - a man of great honor and integrity.


    Rhaegar''s most vivid memory of Lord Mallister was his victory in the annual tournament in 105 AC. It was the year Rhaegar was born, the same year his mother died in childbirth. The tournament had been a great event, drawingpetitors from all seven kingdoms.


    The star of the tournament had been Criston Cole, the former Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Cole had shattered Harwin Strong''s corbone, earning Harwin the ironic nickname of "Brokenbones".


    He had also defeated the Cargyll brothers, Erryk and Arryk, both members of the Kingsguard. In the final round, Cole had even disarmed Daemon Targaryen, Rhaegar''s uncle, sending his Dark Sister''s sword flying.


    However, Cole''s run had ended in the final match against Lord Mallister. With a swift and powerful stroke, Mallister''s heavy sword had cut through Cole''s morningstar, securing victory.


    As a child, Rhaenyra had oftenmented to Rhaegar that Mallister''s extraordinary skill had thwarted Cole''s ambitions. As a result, Rhaegar held a deep respect for Lord Mallister.


    With a helmet trimmed with wings tucked under his arm, Lord Lymond Mallister offered a slight bow, his voice deep and resonant. "Reporting back to the prince, I came here at an invitation."


    He nced at Edmure Tully, making it clear who had extended the invitation.


    Rhaegar was confused. "What did he promise you?"


    Lord Lymond''s face darkened and he gritted his teeth. "Old Tully had the audacity to suggest a marriage between one of my daughters and his youngest son."


    Rhaegar understood immediately. "Edmure?"


    Lord Lymond''s expression grew even grimmer and he nodded. "Indeed. A few years ago, Old Tully pushed for the betrothal as if he would not live another day, desperate to secure the alliance."


    Rhaegar sympathized with Lord Lymond''s frustration. The Tully House motto, "Family, Duty, Honor," clearly ced family above all else. Even a failure like Edmure was used to cement noble bonds.


    "Lord Lymond," Rhaegar asked cautiously, "how did youe to...?"


    He couldn''t bring himself to say Edmure''s name for fear of adding to Lord Lymond''s embarrassment.


    Lord Lymond''s face grew so dark that it seemed ready to erupt. His teeth were clenched. "That fool once had some redeeming qualities and Old Tully blinded me with his urgency."


    Considering Old Tully''s haste to secure the marriage, it seemed he had feared Lord Lymond would see through Edmure''s facade.


    "Damn Grover," Lord Lymond muttered, his fists clenched as if ready to storm the Keep and put an end to old Tully''s deception.


    Rhaegar, seeing Lord Lymond''s rage, quietly withdrew, feeling a pang of sympathy for the man. Old Tully had indeed been underhanded.


    After a brief exchange, Rhaegar turned his attention back to Tully''s sons. "I came here as a guest. Continue your duels; don''t mind me."


    Milov and Edmure exchanged uneasy nces, clearly taken aback. They knew of Rhaegar''s arrival; the sight of a ck dragon circling Riverrun Castle was impossible to miss. But fear had kept them hidden in the Godswood.


    Seeing their hesitation, Rhaegar''s eyes hardened. "Fight. Do you need me to teach you?"


    Startled, the two brothers quickly moved, signaling their knights to take positions. They understood well the danger of incurring Rhaegar''s wrath.


    Two and a half years earlier, a minor noble from the Rivends had disrespected Rhaegar and denied him entry.


    That night, the noble''s warehouse had mysteriously burned down, along with dozens of warhorses and a granary, resulting in a loss exceeding a thousand gold dragons. This financial blow had left the once-wealthy family deeply indebted.


    No one ever discovered who set the fire, but the message was clear to all the Rivends nobles: when a prince visits, you open your gates and wee him. This was no longer the era when local nobles could mock and refuse the royal family''s requests with impunity.

 Chapter 258: Changes in Riverrun City

    Chapter 258: Changes in Riverrun City


    The two Tully brothers ordered their knights to resume the duel, their eyes never leaving Rhaegar''s cold, unflinching expression.


    Momentster, one of the knights swung his longsword and pointed it at his opponent''s throat, securing victory. The priests standing beside Milov immediately sped their hands in silent prayer.


    Rhaegar frowned, contemting the involvement of the Faith of the Seven in this session dispute.


    "Prince, those priests are Milov''s allies," Elmo whispered, approaching with trepidation.


    Rhaegar was skeptical. "The contest for heirship should be based on individual merit. What use does Milov have for the Faith of the Seven?"


    Elmo clenched his teeth, his voice filled with anger. "The priests have dered their support for Milov''s im. They''ve even sent a raven to the main church in Oldtown. They''re waiting for my grandfather to die so they can back Milov''s ascension."


    He tightened his fists, muttering bitterly, "Those meddling priests."


    Session was an internal matter of the Tully family; the Faith of the Seven had no right to interfere. It was likely that Milov had promised the priests arge donation once he inherited Riverrun, to persuade them to support his im.


    As the conversation continued, the two contestants chose new opponents for the next duel. Milov selected a tall knight armed with a longsword and shield. Edmure, his face grim, brought forth his father-inw, Lord Lymond.Rhaegar watched in confusion. "What is the purpose of these duels?"


    The duels seemed disorganized, with knights just shing at each other without clear rules or goals.


    Elmo sighed, "They measure strength by the number of knight victories. Whoever wins more duels is considered superior."


    "That''s it?" Rhaegar was incredulous.


    "That''s it," Elmo confirmed, his tone filled with helplessness. The two uncles, instead of using their power effectively, were staging meaningless duels to assert their dominance.


    "What a pair of hopeless fools!" Rhaegar muttered. Had he had their resources, he would have eliminated his rival and taken Riverrun after old Tully''s death. Instead, they engaged in this pointless show of force.


    The duel began. Lord Lymond attacked first, swinging his heavy sword with both hands and forcing his opponent to retreat. Seizing an opportunity, he found a gap in his opponent''s armor and struck decisively.


    Poof!


    The tall knight��s arm was severed at the shoulder, blood gushing from the wound.


    "Next!"


    Lord Lymond''s eyes were cold and unfeeling, his sword resting against the ground.


    Milov stared, wide-eyed, unable to believe that an old lord, nearing fifty, could be so formidable.


    Lord Lymond was past his prime, with gray hair and sideburns, and a face lined with wrinkles. Yet he fought with the vigor of a much younger man.


    Soon the next opponent stepped forward. Lord Lymond responded with ease, swinging his heavy sword with such force that his opponent struggled to counter.


    Finally, Lord Lymond sliced through his opponent''s breastte. The man fell and died in a pool of his own blood.


    In Westeros, armor varies greatly in quality. The most expensive suits are thick and sturdy, leaving little room for weak points. Cheaper armor, however, often more ornate and impressive looking, has numerous weaknesses.


    Lord Lymond''s armor was an ancestral treasure, marked with countless shes, but well maintained. In contrast, many of the second sons of nobles and lesser knights recruited by Milov and Edmure could only afford substandard armor and weapons.


    To Lord Lymond''s experienced eye, their equipment was riddled with ws.


    The duel continued. Lord Lymond cut down four knights in a row before his breathing becamebored. Satisfied with his performance, he stepped back, leaving the lesser men to continue their bickering.


    Rhaegar, uninterested in the proceedings, beckoned Elmo to join him at the entrance to the Godswood.


    "Prince, what are your orders?" Elmo asked cautiously.


    Rhaegar''s irritation red. Thinking of the two worse Tullys in the Godswood, he could only grit his teeth and ept the situation.


    "Come here!" Rhaegar grabbed Elmo by the neck, his eyes boring into him, his voice icy. "Old Tully is gravely ill, and your two uncles are busy vying for power. These are your family''s affairs, and I will not interfere."


    "Prince..." Elmo was shocked by the news and his expression changed.


    "Shut up!" Rhaegar''s face hardened, his words slow and deliberate. "Go back to the Godswood, see your two uncles, and use your rusty brain to think about what you want to do, what you should do!"


    He released Elmo, who stood stunned. Leaving Grey Worm with him, Rhaegar returned to the main tower with a few Unsullied.


    Elmo remained frozen, staring nkly at Rhaegar''s retreating back and muttering, "My... thoughts?"


    He looked down at his hands, calloused from practicing with sword and bow. After a moment, he raised his head and met Grey Worm''s impassive eyes.


    At that moment, determination filled Elmo''s eyes. Remembering his grandfather''s advice before he fell ill, Elmo rubbed his face, his breathing elerating.


    Grey Worm stood motionless, like an emotionless wooden figure.


    ...


    The duel in the Godswood continued into the afternoon.


    Two of Tully''s knights suffered grievous wounds, and their bodies were carried out of the forest one by one. In the end, Edmure triumphed over Milov with a decisive victory. Milov''s face darkened, his eyes burning with rage.


    The death of his older brother should have made him the heir. With the old man now seriously ill, his chance had finallye.


    ...


    Nightfall.


    Edmure, basking in his victory, hosted a banquet and drank heavily with his knights. Unbeknownst to him, changes were afoot in Riverrun under the cover of darkness.


    With old Tully incapacitated, the castle''s affairs had been divided between his two sons. Milov controlled the vaults and warehouses, while Edmure oversaw the arsenal and the garrison. Though they avoided direct confrontation, the tension between them escted.


    Dark clouds shrouded the sky, obscuring the crescent moon. The cold winds of early spring blew through Riverrun, stirring the waters of the river.


    "Move faster, don''t get caught."


    "Be ruthless, don''t waste time..."


    In the dim night, a group of ck-robed men emerged from the main tower, heading toward the weapons storehouse and garrison. Others made their way to the secondary fortress where Edmure was hosting his feast.


    Meanwhile, in one of Riverrun''s basements, several garrison soldiers entered, their flickering torches casting eerie shadows.


    "My lords, I have a matter to discuss," a figure in ck robes said, stepping forward and removing his hood to reveal short ck hair.


    ...


    Main Tower, Lord''s Room.


    Rhaegar entered with a tray of fruit, nked by several Unsullied.


    "Prince!"


    Two Knights stood guard.


    "Don''t mind me, I''m here to see Lord Grover," Rhaegar said, not giving the knights a chance to refuse as he pushed the door open.


    The knights hesitated for a moment, but finally allowed him to enter.


    ...


    The entrance to the armory.


    Thud-


    ck-robed men lunged forward, slitting the throats of the two patrolling soldiers. A simr scene unfolded near the warehouse. As soon as the guards changed shifts, the men in ck approached under the cover of night and dispatched them with swift, deadly blows.


    "Done, let''s move!"


    The leader of the ck-robed men wiped the blood from his dagger and motioned for hispanions to leave.


    Whoosh...


    Before the words fully left his mouth, a volley of arrows flew from the shadows. The ck-robed men fell, struck down with screams of agony.


    A militarymander emerged from the darkness, nked by dozens of soldiers.


    "Dispose of the bodies and clean up the bloodstains," he ordered coldly.


    "Yes, sir!"


    The soldiers swiftly removed the corpses and began scrubbing the ground with buckets and mops.


    ...


    Main Tower, a bedroom on the third floor.


    Milovy sprawled on arge bed, two heavily made-up prostitutes in his arms. Half-asleep, he dreamt of old Tully''s death, his fat brother being hacked to pieces, and his nephew imprisoned. He envisioned himself as the new Lord Tully, Lord Paramount of the Trident and Lord of Riverrun.


    Bang!


    The door burst open, sending the two prostitutes screaming in terror. Milov jerked awake and scrambled to his feet.


    "Who dares intrude in my room!" he bellowed.


    "Uncle, your dreams are premature," Elmo said, stepping inside in a ck robe, his eyes cold.


    Behind him, a group of armored soldiers rushed into the room, pushing the prostitutes aside and binding the naked Milov.


    "What are you doing, Elmo? I''m your uncle!" Milov shouted, stunned.


    "I don''t need to be reminded," Elmo replied coldly. "Gag him and lock him in the dungeon."


    "Yes, my lord."


    A soldier punched Milov in the stomach, grabbed a prostitute''s stocking and stuffed it into his mouth before dragging him out like a dead dog.


    ...


    On the other side, in a secondary fortress.


    The ck-robed men infiltrated the fortress gates, blending in with the night watchmen. Despite their best efforts, they were outnumbered and outgunned.


    As the battle ended, the sound of footsteps echoed from outside.


    "Assassins! Leave no one alive!"


    Dozens of well-equipped soldiers stormed the gates, quickly dispatching the ck-robed men.


    In the midst of the soldiers, Grey Worm, now in standard leather armor, led a contingent up the stairs.


    At that moment, Edmurey asleep in his room, unaware of the danger.


    Grey Worm paused at the door. Lord Lymond, heavily armed, stood guard, ring at the group ascending the stairs.


    ...


    The Next Day


    The Great Hall of Riverrun.


    Elmo sat in a chair, his face slightly haggard. He had taken the prince''s hint and gathered his father''s old knights to strike first. In one night, both of his uncles were imprisoned in the dungeon. The n had gone surprisingly well, much to his disbelief.


    Now, with his uncles under his control, he faced a new dilemma. What should his next move be? Should he eliminate thempletely and bear the stain of kinying? And what about his grandfather, who was gravely ill? If the old man recovered and discovered that his uncles had been killed, how would he react?


    These thoughts swirled in Elmo''s mind, making him fidget and rise from his seat in agitation. He decided that he had to see his grandfather; otherwise, he wouldn''t know what to do next.


    With this resolve, he strode toward the Lord''s room on the top floor.


    It wasn''t long before he reached the dimly lit corridor leading to the room. He saw two knights and several Unsullied guarding the door. None of them acknowledged him as he approached; they were entirely indifferent.


    Elmo''s unease grew as he reached the door. Through the closed door, he could faintly hear a familiar voice.

 Chapter 259: A War Without Blood

    Chapter 259: A War Without Blood


    Creak...


    Elmo pushed open the door and froze at the sight.


    Inside, the firece zed brightly, dispersing the early spring chill. Rhaegar sat on a low stool, roasting two sausages over the mes.


    On a cushioned seat, Old Lord Grover Tully, once seemingly unconscious, sat up, full of energy, gnawing on a pear. Lord Lymond, missing since the previous night, was beside him, the two men exchanging contemptuous nces and muttered insults.


    "Grandfather, you''re awake?" Elmo''s voice trembled, unsure how to interpret the scene.


    Without looking up, Rhaegar turned the sausages around and said tly, "Not exactly. Your grandfather didn''t sleep a winkst night." He hadn''t slept much either and was hungry now.


    Elmo''s eyes flickered, his mind was racing.


    "Come here, Elmo," Old Tully beckoned, his voice low and hoarse, still betraying his illness. Elmo, knowing he couldn''t avoid the confrontation, walked over.


    "You did well," Old Tully praised quietly, tossing the pear core aside.Elmo''s head snapped up, his eyes shining with hope.


    Old Tully grinned. "You were quick on your feet, taking out your two uncles in one fell swoop. You have a bit of your grandfather''s style."


    "Grandfather, did you pretend to be sick on purpose?" Elmo asked apprehensively.


    "I had a terrible headache a few days ago, but after some bloodletting I felt better," old Tully exined.


    Elmo looked at Lord Lymond and whispered, "Did you invite Lord Lymond?"


    As far as he could remember, this Lord always looked down on his uncles. Since Lord Lymond was staying with his grandfather, it was clear that there had to be an arrangement between the two.


    Lord Lymond, polishing his heavy sword, sneered. "In times of war, these young fools are not enough to invite me to support their cause."


    He sheathed his sword. "The Ironborn have been raiding the coastal viges. I came to Riverrun for supplies."


    All his life he had considered honor as his life. How could hee to Riverrun as a fighter for a stupid son-inw?


    However, Old Tully repeatedly begged him to protect his heirs and not let them kill each other in public.


    Only then, at Old Tully''s urging, did he agree to a few duels.


    Elmo looked to his grandfather for confirmation, trusting him for the moment. Old Tully nodded, a dark expression clouding his face. With two sons and a grandson, he had his hands full. He had feigned aa to see which of them might prove worthy, but none had met his expectations.


    Elmo had acted only after Rhaegar''s prodding and had merely imprisoned his uncles, rather than eliminating them. It was a disappointment to the old man, who had hoped for more decisive action.


    The sausages sizzled in the oil, sending bursts of me and heat into the air. Rhaegar, unfazed by the heat, picked up a roasted sausage and took a bite. The meat was juicy and rich with spices, aforting taste amidst his contemtion.


    He pulled out a letter with a roaring lion seal from his pocket, ignoring the Tully grandfather and grandson nearby. The letter was from Tnd Lannister, overseeing the construction of the Prince''s Pce.


    Firstly, Tnd reported that the pce construction was about a thirdplete. Rhaegar had deliberately withheld the method of creating ck Dragonstone, viewing it as a crucial strategic asset too dangerous to risk in a popted area.


    The letter then shifted to Dorne. The arid, drought-prone desert was seeing a rise in vagrants near the Vulture''s Roost, threatening the Prince''s Pass. Tnd warned that these vagabonds might attack, aiming to raid the Rivends.


    Rhaegar frowned and took a heavy bite of sausage, remembering the never-ending conflict with the Triarchy.


    Even after theirst significant attack, the city-states held a deep grudge against the Targaryens. Small-scale raids continued, pirates attacked supply ships in the Narrow Sea, and trade was stifled by alliances between the free cities.


    Prices soared, and Westerosi merchants faced increasing taxes that cut into their profits. Rumor had it that Prince Qoren of Dorne had recently married the widowed daughter of the Sea King of Braavos, forging a new alliance. Clearly, Qoren Martell was nning something more significant.


    "Triarchy... Free Cities..." Rhaegar muttered, staring at the letter. He remembered his promise to Rhaenyra and his father''s obsession with expanding the realm. Perhaps the answery in Essos, and once held by the Targaryens.


    But it wasn''t the right time. Targaryen strength wasn''t at its peak. Daemon''s dragon, Caraxes, was still injured, and Rhaenyra''s Syrax was unfit for battle. Only Rhaegar and Aegon were full-fledged dragon riders, and Aegon''s Sunfyre, not yet grown, was not yet fully formidable.


    Rhaegar needed more time for his younger brothers to mature and master their dragons. Aemond, at ten, had yet to tame a dragon, and Daeron, at seven, had tamed Tessarion, but his dragon was no bigger than a horse. It would be at least a decade before they could be counted on.


    There was also the matter of Alicent and Otto Hightower. While Rhaegar was away from King''s Landing, they were busy rallying lesser nobles who felt marginalized. Their intentions were unclear-whether they sought the throne or held a grudge against the current power dynamic was yet to be determined.


    "The dark currents are swirling, and none of them give me any peace of mind," Rhaegar mused.


    Taking thest bite of his sausage, Rhaegar flipped open the letter and read the final paragraph.


    "Boremund of Storm''s End. Lord Baratheon is gravely ill and dying; the maester''s prognosis is grim..."


    Rhaegar''s spirits lifted, his expression bing grave. Lord Boremund was not a mediocre figure like Old Tully. He was a renowned man from the time of Rhaegar��s great-grandfather, Jaehaerys I, and had made his mark in battles, leading the Stornds army to a significant contribution.


    Boremund was a wise and generous man. Although he supported his niece, Princess Rhaenys, he never defied the orders of the royal family. His respectability was unquestionable.


    If Boremund died, his only heir would be his eldest son, Borros Baratheon - a man with a strong ego, but a fool nheless. Unlike his father, Borros had a low opinion of the crown.


    During the War of the Stepstones, he had indulged in drinking and mischief, distancing himself from both the royal family and Rhaenys, creating a great deal of uncertainty.


    After reading the letter, Rhaegar crumpled the paper, his face darkening. The Stornds was a crucial region for the Targaryen Dynasty, controlling the southern approach to Dorne and defending against attacks from the Narrow Sea.


    If the king was in trouble, the Stornds could provide immediate support via the Kingsroad. Boremund''s passing would be a major blow to the royal family.


    After a few moments of silence, Rhaegar stood up and approached the quiet lord, dissatisfied. "Old Tully, Elmo has defeated his two uncles. It''s time to decide on the heir."


    Had he not discovered Old Tully''s fake illness, Rhaegar might still be in the dark, contributing to the old man''s ns. But he was no longer interested in ying along. He told Elmo directly to fight for his im and resolve the matter quickly.


    Hearing this, Elmo looked at his grandfather with expectant eyes. Old Tully, his eyes flickering, replied, "Not yet. Elmo has done well, but not to my satisfaction."


    In his mind, when his uncles were in trouble, Elmo should have seized the opportunity to eliminate the threat once and for all. But Elmo had hesitated, had waited passively. If Rhaegar had not intervened, the uncles could have caused more chaos, which was not the behavior of a true leader.


    "Grandfather, what terms would meet your requirements?" Elmo asked boldly, emboldened by the night''s events.


    Old Tully thought for a moment. "The prince mentioned a tournament of strength. You and your two uncles will participate, and whoever ranks highest will be the heir."


    "A contest of strength?" Elmo was taken aback.


    "No! You can choose knight representatives to fight. I will only see the results," Old Tully rified.


    The three heirscked heart, determination, and remarkable skills. If Elmo had eliminated his uncles the night before, there would be no more tests. However, the two Tullys were also his children, so a final test of leadership was in order. It would measure their ability to rally support and secure the position of Lord of Riverrun.


    Without hesitation, Elmo agreed, "Yes, I will participate."


    After the previous night, his prestige in Riverrun had already surpassed that of his uncles, making victory seem within reach.


    Knock, knock...


    A knock at the door interrupted them and an Oath Knight announced, "My lord, two priests from the Faith of the Seven wish to see Young Master Elmo."


    Old Tully frowned and said, "The priests are insignificant. Why should my grandson see them in person?"


    He knew the behavior of these priests all too well - cannibalizing for money and power, even forcing one son to murder the other. In the name of the Seven Gods, theymitted acts uglier than those ofmon viins.

 Chapter 260: Harbinger of a Storm

    Chapter 260: Harbinger of a Storm


    The Great Hall of Riverrun


    Two priests, d in robes and clutching their bibles, waited in silence. Their calm faces exuded the aura of devout believers.


    Footsteps echoed through the hall.


    The priests looked up towards the smaller hall on the second floor. Elmo emerged, catching their attention. They tightened their grips on their bibles, aware of the previous night''s events.


    Elmo approached the Lord''s high seat but did not sit. Instead, he stood by, waiting.


    Under the disbelieving gazes of the priests, Old Lord Tully, supported by two young maids, hobbled into the hall.


    "The Seven bless you, Lord Grover, for recovering from your illness," one priest said, sping his hands in surprise at Tully''s presence.


    "Hmph! A minor ailment won''t be the end of me," Lord Tully scoffed, dismissing the so-called blessing of the Seven.


    If the Seven truly blessed the Tully House, they would have provided him with a worthy heir.The priests exchanged nces, contemting whether to mention Milov. The tempting promises made by Milov weighed heavily on their minds.


    One priest decided to speak. "Lord Grover, there was an incident in Riverrunst night involving your second son, Milov..."


    "Silence, you damned fools!" Old Tully roared, pointing an usatory finger at the priests. "Look at the chaos you��ve caused, pitting my children against each other for power. You dare im to be followers of the Seven!"


    As his voice echoed through the hall, a group of soldiers stormed in.


    "Seize them! Search for evidence of their crimes. I will escort these scoundrels to the Oldtown Church for judgment," Tullymanded with disdain.


    During their time in Riverrun, the priests had taken bribes and indulged in debauchery. Prostitutes could testify against them. Tully had no patience for hypocrisy and wanted to root out the corruption head on.


    "Yes, my lord!" The soldiers, their faces grim, overpowered the priests, breaking their arms and legs on the spot.


    "Ah! We are believers of the Seven! You cannot do this to us!"


    "The Father will not forgive you!"


    The priests'' screams echoed as they were dragged away, their bibles abandoned on the floor.


    Old Tully turned to Elmo. "This is how you deal with scoundrels who deceive and manipte."


    The Faith of the Seven might be revered, but it had no ce in the noble session. The priests had crossed a line, and House Tully must respond decisively.


    Rhaegar and Lord Lymond emerged from the side hall, pping in satisfaction. For the non-believing nobles, seeing the Seven Divine Churches dealt with so decisively was a rare and gratifying sight.


    Old Tully turned to Lord Lymond with a sneer. "Why are you still here? Haven''t I given you enough money and provisions?"


    Lymond replied with a solemn expression, "The money and supplies are appreciated. I''ll be leaving soon, but I must warn you: a powerful new house has emerged among the Ironborn, and they''re causing trouble."


    "I know," scoffed Old Tully, dismissing the concern with a wave of his hand. "No matter how powerful, they''re still just pirates."


    Rhaegar stepped forward, his face cold. "Old Tully, there''s trouble brewing in King''s Landing. I must leave as well."


    The news of Boremund''s impending death demanded his immediate return to make preparations. Old Tully, though surprised, didn''t argue. "Thank you for your help, Prince. I''ll have Elmo prepare a gift for your journey to Harrenhal."


    Rhaegar waved off the offer. "As you wish, but no need to trouble yourself." With that, he bid farewell to Lord Lymond and headed towards the stairs.


    "Prince, wait!" Old Tully shouted as Rhaegar began to descend.


    Rhaegar turned back, confused. Old Tully''s face was conflicted, his grip on his walking stick tightening and loosening. "Do you remember the woman I spoke of? Alys Rivers?"


    Rhaegar''s brow furrowed as he remembered. "Lord Lyonel''s bastard daughter?"


    He remembered the green-eyed woman with ample breasts. Old Tully had once mentioned something peculiar about her, hinting at ulterior motives toward Lord Lyonel.


    The only impression he had of Alys Rivers was when she secretly invaded his bed before he moved to Harrenhal.


    That day, he almost identally killed her, thinking she was an assassin but at the time, Rhaegar was preupied with repairing Harrenhal and paid little attention to it.


    Old Tully leaned forward, his voice low. "She is not Lord Lyonel''s daughter. She was his nursemaid."


    "What?!" Rhaegar was stunned, thinking he had heard wrong. Alys Rivers appeared to be in her early thirties, with wless skin and a youthful face. How could she have been Lord Lyonel''s nursemaid?


    Lord Lyonel was in his forties, which meant that his nursemaid would be at least sixty. If Alys Rivers was indeed his nursemaid, she would date back to the time of Rhaegar''s great-grandfather, Jaehaerys I. Could she be some kind of old woman?


    Old Tully''s expression was grave. "I learned from the old servants of the House of Strong that she nursed not only Lord Lyonel but also his two heirs."


    "Her appearance has remained unnaturally youthful, seemingly around thirty years old, which is rumored to be the result of bathing in the blood of young girls. She is most likely an evil forest witch."


    Rhaegar sucked in a breath in horror. If this was true, he had almost been seduced by a woman as old as his grandmother.


    "Seven hells! Thank the gods I remained faithful," he muttered, feeling a wave of nausea as he remembered the woman''s shameless sweet talk.


    Old Tully''s face darkened, his voice heavy with concern. "This woman is dangerous, and I suspect she had ill intentions toward Lord Lyonel."


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened. "She disappeared six months ago?"


    Old Tully nodded. "Her whereabouts are unknown, but ording to the servants of the Strong House, Alys Rivers was close to Larys Strong."


    Rhaegar''s grip tightened on the Dragon w hilt at his waist. Larys Strong had long served as the Lord Confessor in the Red Keep. If Ally Haven had indeed joined forces with Larys, she might be hiding in the Red Keep itself.


    "Prince, whether or not Alys Rivers is a forest witch, she should not be allowed near the royal family," Old Tully warned.


    He is a traditional and stubborn person.


    In his eyes, magic is always a dangerous thing.


    A witch who is rumored to use the blood of young girls to maintain her beauty is even more dangerous for in his eyes.


    If he hadn''t discovered that Alys Rivers was disloyal to Lord Lyonel Strong, he wouldn''t have paid attention to investigate.


    Rhaegar nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Thank you, Old Tully. Your information is invaluable."


    "You should remain vignt, Prince," Old Tully advised.


    "I will," Rhaegar assured him and turned to leave.


    As he walked away, Rhaegar''s mind raced. "Alys Rivers... Forest Witch..."


    He remembered thest time he had heard of Forest Witches, during an incident with Shadowbinders at Crackw Point when he was six years old.


    The Forest Witch''s notebook had detailed various dark magics: sensing the minds of trees and nts, shapeshifting, and, most terrifying of all, necromancy-the power to raise the dead.


    ...


    The sun shone brightly at noon.


    "Roar..."


    A ck dragon shadow broke through the thin clouds and hovered over God''s Eye Lake.


    Below, directly opposite the Isle of Faces, stood the towering dragon''s nest.


    Over the past three years, the Isle of Faces had grown in size due to the constant movement of the earth''s crust. The Dragon''s Nest was built on the northern shore of the ind, resembling a dark mountain with a cavernous opening.


    On the southern shore, a pier was built for ships to dock. In the center of the ind, where several weirwood trees once stood, the lush greenery had been cleared away to make way for a white stone pce.


    Inside the pce, a hot spring bubbled, the heat rising in steamy wisps. A few weirwoods were rooted to the bottom of the spring; their red leaves had ceased to grow, and the maesters considered them dead. The water, full of sulfur and other minerals, was too hot for even the hardy weirwoods to survive.


    Rhaegar, naked, soaked himself in the bubbling hot spring. He had rested well the night before and sought the warmth of the spring to rx.


    With his eyes closed and his chest gently rising and falling, Rhaegar seemed to be asleep.


    Without realizing it, he drifted into a dream.


    In broad daylight, over a vast, calm sea, seabirds flew in flocks, the salty sea breeze carrying a faint scent of blood.


    "Roar..."


    An angry dragon''s roar echoed across half the sea.


    From a unique vantage point, Rhaegar saw a huge dragon soar into the sky. On its back was a small, silver-haired child whose face was indistinct.


    "ROAR!"


    Another dragon roared, the clouds swelling as a green-scaled dragon''s tail shed by.


    Boom...


    Golden and crimson dragonfire collided, sending thick clouds of searing, rolling sparks into the air.


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, another slightly smaller dragon flew in from the distance and joined the dragon battle in the clouds.


    This dragon had dark red scales, slender horns, and crowns, with dark-colored pupils gleaming fiercely.


    Rhaegar clenched his fists, staring intently at the new dragon.


    Its size was simr to the Red Queen Meleys and the Bloodwyrm Caraxes, but Rhaegar was certain it was neither.


    This was a dragon he had never seen before.

 Chapter 261: The Sea Snake and Daemon’s Collusion

    Chapter 261: The Sea Snake and Daemon��s Collusion


    Rhaegar''s eyes sharpened as he grew wary of the dragon he had never seen before. Any dragon not under Targaryen control was a potential disaster.


    The battle in the clouds intensified, dragon mes piercing the sky. A cold feeling crept into Rhaegar''s heart as he tried to shift his gaze. He possessed the rare gift of Dreamscape, which allowed him to explore the secrets hidden within his dreams.


    But his vision moved only slightly upward and then stopped beneath the clouds. It was as if some unseen force was preventing him from seeing the truth above.


    "Roar!"


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, several dragon roars rang out, converging from different directions. Rhaegar turned his head to see a group of unfamiliar dragons flying toward each other, spitting dragonfire in a fierce aerial battle.


    These dragons of varying sizes shed violently across the vast sea.


    "Roar!"


    A giant dragon suddenly swooped over Rhaegar''s head, releasing a pir of dragonfire. Rhaegar''s heart raced and he instinctively raised his hand to block it.Boom...


    A thunderous roar echoed through the sky as the wind howled and the sky darkened.


    When Rhaegar opened his eyes, the dragons were gone.


    "Dragons..." Rhaegar muttered in confusion, scanning the sky for any sign of them.


    A meteor streaked across the sky like a fiery ball, followed by a dense stream of falling stars.


    Simultaneously, a snowkended on Rhaegar''s eyshes. In an instant, snow covered the sky, and the sea below froze into a solid expanse of ice.


    The meteor shower continued, crashing into the frozen sea, sending up waves of ice and frigid water.


    ...


    Outside the Hot Spring


    "Princess, the prince is bathing inside. You cannot enter."


    A dissuasive voice tried to reason.


    "Get out of the way. There is no ce in Rhaegar''s territory I cannot enter."


    The protest fell on deaf ears as someone shoved the speaker aside. The white stone entrance was covered with a beaded curtain, obscuring the view.


    A small hand lifted a corner of the curtain, which was decorated with fine drops of water. A long, white leg stepped over the threshold, droplets adorning the smooth, wet skin.


    Rhaenyra stepped slowly into the tub, tilting her head and running her hands through her long, loose hair. She wore a light gauze robe that barely hid her form in the misty steam.


    "Rhaegar~~," she called softly, her voice soft and melodic.


    Inside the Hot Spring


    Rhaegar was lost in a dream that was slowly turning into a nightmare. His pale face was flushed and he mumbled incoherently, "Great snow... mes..."


    Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and his body shook nervously. His movements disturbed the hot spring water, causing ripples to spread.


    Sensing something was wrong, Rhaenyra stepped forward in her bare feet and said anxiously, "Rhaegar, wake up!"


    Rhaegar had been gued by nightmares for years, his nerves growing more tense each day. He had even taken up ying the harp to relieve his gloomy mood.


    Hearing the familiar call, Rhaegar''s eyes snapped open, and he let out a hoarse roar. He sat up abruptly, gasping for breath, and looked around alertly.


    "Rhaegar, it''s me," Rhaenyra said softly as she approached him, worry etched on her face.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were bloodshot, his chest heaving violently. He felt dizzy from the sudden movement andck of oxygen. Holding his spinning head, he looked at Rhaenyra with a helpless expression. The blood in his eyes faded, reced by a watery sheen.


    "Sister," he murmured, his voice filled with vulnerability.


    Rhaenyra was deeply moved by the sound of his voice. She quickly walked to the edge of the heated pool where Rhaegar was sitting. It had been a long time since he had called her with such vulnerability.


    Thest time had been when he was a boy, awakening from a nightmare and shivering in her arms.


    "Don''t be afraid. Another nightmare?" Rhaenyra''s eyes were full of concern as she knelt beside the hot spring and pulled Rhaegar into her arms.


    Rhaegar shifted his position, resting his head against her softness and wrapping his arms around her waist. His head throbbed, and his heart pounded frantically.


    It was hard to breathe because of the oppressive feeling that lingered after waking from the nightmare. Rhaegar didn''t know if it was the fear or the dizziness from theck of blood supply.


    "Rhaenyra, I had a dream, a very bad one," he whispered weakly, rubbing his cheeks vigorously, trying to gather warmth.


    Rhaenyra stroked his spine gently and kissed his forehead, her lips soft but firm. "Don''t worry, I''m always here for you."


    She didn''t know how to fullyfort him or share his fears, but she would always be his haven.


    "Rhaenyra, I dreamt that a child and the dragon he was riding was attacked and fell into the sea." Rhaegar closed his eyes tightly, remembering a simr dream from three years ago, and spoke almost unconsciously.


    Rhaenyra pressed her forehead to his and caressed his cheeks, her voice soothing and sympathetic. "Don''t be afraid. It was just a dream. No one gets attacked by a dragon."


    "No! You don''t understand. I saw it all." Rhaegar''s eyes opened, trembling with intensity. "That child looked exactly like me when I was young."


    Rhaenyra was stunned and stared at him in horror.


    "And the dream I just had," Rhaegar continued nervously, "it was also a child fighting a dragon, and then it snowed heavily."


    He exhaled sharply as he spoke, his legs causing the water to ripple. Beneath him stretched a thick tree root, its skin dry.


    At a loss for words, Rhaenyra asked cautiously, "What is the connection between these two dreams?"


    "My dreams don''t juste for no reason. They must be prophetic," Rhaegar said, a shiver running down his spine. "These two children, they are my children!"


    "They''re in danger... what will happen?" Rhaenyra listened intently, her mind racing.


    Rhaegar turned to face her, staring directly into her purple eyes. A few meters away, a leafless weirwood tree, its branches like the ws and teeth of a monster, loomed ominously. On its trunk, a ghastly face with bleeding eyes seemed to gaze at the siblings clinging to each other.


    Rhaegar, lost in thought, said, "It is likely... that they will lose their lives!"


    He knew the terror of a dragon fight all too well. One wrong move and you could be consumed by Dragonfire. These two dreams, connected as they were, must be a warning from his prophetic gift.


    Rhaenyra''s face fell, her eyes flickering with confusion. She reached out to touch her t belly, a new worry taking hold.


    "Rhaegar''s child... is it not...?" she whispered, trailing off as the weight of their shared fears settled heavily between them.


    It took Rhaenyra half a second to shake off her unease. Her eyes red with anger as she met Rhaegar''s gaze, biting her lower lip. "Whose dragon was it in the dream? Aegon''s or Daemon''s?"


    The only ones she could think of who could threaten Rhaegar were her half-brother and her evil uncle. Daemon in particr was highly suspicious.


    Rhaegar and Daemon had long feuded. Lately, rumors had it that Daemon was stirring up trouble on the Stepstones Inds and seemed to be nning something big. Rhaenyra couldn''t help but be cautious. Not only was it a nightmare, but it might affect her heir.


    "I''m not sure, but I have a feeling it''s not them," Rhaegar replied, doubt shing in his eyes. The two dragons in the dream-one with green scales and the other with dark red-didn''t resemble Sunfyre or Caraxes.


    Unable to get a definitive answer, Rhaenyra gritted her teeth and pulled Rhaegar into her arms forfort.


    A gust of wind lifted the curtain and stirred the steamy mist that enveloped the grim-faced Weirwood tree nearby. Rhaegar leaned back and murmured, "Rhaenyra, I sense a curse surrounding the Targaryens. The end of one nightmare is the beginning of another."


    The feeling had started when he couldn''t heal his father''s wounds, and now it was getting stronger.


    Rhaenyra held Rhaegar like a child, her chin resting on his silver hair as she bit her lip. "Shh! No one can hurt us. Dragonfire will dispel any evil."


    "You''re right," Rhaegar said, his voice soothing as his mind began to settle. He had been startled by the snow and meteor shower in his nightmare and had shared everything that was on his mind. Rhaenyra wasn''t supposed to know about these prophetic dreams - it only added to the bad mood.


    After a long time they separated. Rhaenyra sat at the edge of the hot spring and dipped her legs into the water. Rhaegar rested his head on herp, telling her of his recent troubles.


    After a moment, he rubbed his cheeks, pinched the corner of her dress, and muttered, "Rhaenyra, why are you wearing a dress? It''s disrespectful to the hot springs."


    "Go away, and think of something pleasant," Rhaenyra retorted, sending a nk stare his way. "You upied the Isle of Faces, and that green man, who boasts of being the ind''s guardian, blocked me froming in."


    If it weren''t for outsiders, she wouldn''t have had to wear a dress. Under the dense fog, it quickly got wet and was notfortable against her skin.


    Rhaegarughed. "Don''t be angry. Gal is quite capable. He''s a very skillful mage, maester, and gardener."


    "Hmph!" Rhaenyra grunted softly, kicking the water hard.


    "Oh, Rhaenyra, now you''re even kicking me," Rhaegar said pitifully, holding her thigh tightly and not letting go.


    Rhaenyra turned her head proudly, her cheeks flushed red.


    ...


    Driftmark.


    The fire crackled softly, casting flickering light across thevishly furnished room, perfumed with the sweet scent of burning incense wood.


    A round table and two chairs adorned the space beside the firece.


    Seated in one of the chairs, cloaked in a nket, was the Sea Snake, his expression solemn, eyes cast downward, his long hair cascading over his shoulders.


    Though the physical wounds from three years prior had long since healed, the pain in his heart remained unhealed.


    "The Triarchy continues their movements, trading goods and ves in abundance, steadily amassing their strength," a maic, low voice sounded from across the room.


    The Sea Snake, without looking up, added another piece of firewood to the mes, watching them dance as he spoke in a deep tone, "The dragonfire of thest war ignited the seeds of discord, fostering deep resentment among the nine free-trading city-states towards the Targaryens and Vryons."


    Or rather, against the dragons themselves.


    Hispanion chuckled yfully but remained silent.


    As the Sea Snake extended his hand towards the warmth of the fire, he murmured, "More than a curse has been sown; an unprecedented opportunity presents itself."


    "We must seize this moment, for it is an imminent transformation of the entire world, one that will shake it to its core."


    With a cold, calcted gaze, the Sea Snake turned his head towards the figure seated on the opposite side of the table, beside a wine cab adorned with bottles.


    There sat a man, legs crossed, a smirk gracing his lips.


    Under the flickering firelight, Daemon''s ruggedly handsome face was illuminated.


    Arms folded, his eyes deep in contemtion, Daemon became lost in thought.

 Chapter 262: Alicent’s Rage

    Chapter 262: Alicent��s Rage


    As evening fell, two dragons soared from the Isle of Faces toward the moonlit Harrenhal Castle. The gates of Harrenhal stood wide open, and a procession of wagons, loaded with goods and trunks entered the castle in an orderly line.


    From above, Rhaegar watched the long line of loaded wagons being pulled into the courtyard. Cannibalnded gracefully, and Rhaegar dismounted to help an exhausted Rhaenyra down from her dragon.


    As they walked back to the Kingspyre Tower, Rhaegar wondered aloud, "Did Old Tully really send so many gifts?"


    He knew Old Tully''s character well enough to find it surprising. The man was notoriously stingy and would not easily part with such arge sum.


    "Hmph, of course not," Rhaenyra replied with a cold snort, her voice tinged with jealousy. "It''s a gift from your Highgarden rose, a hundred wagonloads of it."


    "Margaret?" Rhaegar frowned slightly, filtering out the bitterness in Rhaenyra''s tone. "Why would she send so much for no good reason?"


    He had no ns to visit Highgarden and no intention of getting involved romantically. Receiving such a generous gift felt awkward.


    Rhaenyra leaned sullenly on Rhaegar''s shoulder and murmured, "Why else? It''s your irresistible charm."


    For years, noblewomen had coveted Rhaegar''s attention, and Rhaenyra had long since grown indifferent to it."Forget it," Rhaegar said, shaking his head. "Make sure you send a gift back so we don''t seem ungrateful."


    With that, he hoisted the weary Rhaenyra onto his back and left for the tower.


    ...


    Time flew by, and half a month had passed.


    In King''s Landing, within the vast halls of the Dragonpit, a young voice echoed persistently.


    "Stormcloud, can I touch you?"


    "Stormcloud, try this��it''s better thanmb..."


    The silver-haired, green-d Aemond wore a hopeful smile, his eyes fixed nervously on the dragon just a few meters away.


    "Roar..."


    The young dragon, covered in bright silver scales,y prostrate, its golden eyes staring indifferently at Aemond. The dragon''s small ws gripped the stone floor as it listened to Aemond''s attempts atmunication.


    After three years of growth, Stormcloud had reached the size of a horse. Despite being a young dragon, Stormcloud had been kept in the Dragonpit. Aemond, the only Targaryen without a dragon, frequently visited, hoping to bond with the creature.


    "Stormcloud, I brought you a goat," Aemond said, his voice steady despite his growing frustration.


    Ignoring Aemond''s words, Stormcloud remained impassive. Determined, Aemond ordered the Dragonkeepers to bring in a goat.


    "Baa..."


    The goat, tied with a hemp rope, wiggled its fat body. Aemond took the twine and led the goat toward Stormcloud, speaking in High Valyrian, "Stormcloud, Dracarys!"


    The dragon, however, continued to creep towards its crypt, showing no interest in Aemond or the goat.


    People choose dragons, and dragons choose people. Clearly, Stormcloud did not recognize Aemond as its master.


    "Stormcloud, Dracarys!" Aemond shouted again, his frustration growing. All his siblings��Aegon, Hena, and Daeron��had their own dragons. Feeling increasingly overlooked, Aemond couldn''t bear the disappointment in his parents'' eyes.


    Stormcloud remained indifferent, its tailzily coiled under its long neck, eyes closed in a feigned sleep.


    "Stormcloud, rise! Obey mymands!" Aemond yelled, shoving the goat closer to the dragon.


    His yelling finally provoked the young dragon. With a mighty roar, Stormcloud opened its icy pupils, turned its body, and unleashed a fierce st of silver-gray Dragonfire.


    "No, no, no!" Aemond cried out, shocked. Instinctively, he turned and fell to the ground, narrowly avoiding the searing mes.


    The goat, however, was quickly roasted and turned into a ckened charcoal. Aemond curled up on the ground, avoiding the direct impact of the Dragonfire, but his green cloak caught fire from the sparks.


    ��Ahh! It��s so hot!�� Aemond got up quickly as the mes died down, unbuttoning his cloak as he ran.


    ��Prince, I��ll help you!�� One of the Dragonkeepers rushed forward, almost stunned by the dragon��s unexpected aggression.


    Stormcloud''s usually aloof and mild character didn''t suggest he would breathe fire so readily.


    After a moment of scrambling, Aemond managed to rip off his burning cloak and stomped on it in frustration.


    ��Take Stormcloud back to the dragon pit,�� said the older Dragonkeeper. ��He��s not fit to tame anymore.��


    Dragons are proud creatures. When they don��t recognize someone, they never will. A dragon that breathes fire at a potential rider is nearly impossible to tame.


    Aemond, still furious, stomped on the charred cloak, cursing, ��Damn, damn...��


    He just wanted to tame a dragon like his siblings, but it was proving to be so difficult.


    ��I��ll get it!�� Aemond muttered, gasping for breath, his eyes filled with frustration.


    Suddenly, a muffled dragon��s roar echoed through the kingdom,ing from the direction of the Dragonpit. The Dragonkeepers rushed to open the doors.


    A huge ck dragon, as dark as charcoal, descended from the sky, its sharp feetnding with a burst of hot sparks. Aemond turned, panic in his eyes, staring at the massive creature. The panic quickly turned to envy and jealousy.


    ��Roar...�� The ck dragon roared lowly, bent its lofty back, folded its wings, and crawled into the Dragonpit. Its fierce green eyes showed disdain for the confined space.


    Aemond ran to the side, hiding beside the Dragonkeepers, watching the silver-haired figure on the dragon��s back. His eyes lit up, and he shouted, ��Brother!��


    Rhaegar, standing on high ground, had already spotted the boy. As Cannibal crawled to the edge of the Dragonpit and settled, Rhaegar slid down and walked towards his foolish younger brother.


    Aemond hurried to greet him with a bright smile. ��Brother, why did you suddenlye back?��


    ��What, don��t you wee me?�� Rhaegar teased, taking off his cloak and casually tossing it to Aemond.


    Aemond caught the cloak obediently, hugging it as he followed Rhaegar. ��No, I missed you.��


    ��Oh, I think you miss the dragon,�� Rhaegar said, noticing the burnt and crushed cloak, guessing that Aemond had failed in his attempt to tame Stormcloud.


    ��You see through everything,�� Aemond said sheepishly, scratching his head. ��Brother, Stormcloud doesn��t like me. Can you take me to Dragonstone Ind?��


    This was his n. On Dragonstone, there were three unowned dragons, including the formidable bronze fury Vermithor. Aemond wanted a real dragon, not a baby Stormcloud.


    Rhaegar nced at him and said, ��I can take you to Dragonstone Ind, but there��s no guarantee you��ll be able to tame a dragon.��


    Aemond had faced ridicule from Aegon and many disapproving stares. The three dragons on Dragonstone Ind were adults, making the task even harder.


    ��It doesn��t matter. I won��t give up,�� Aemond said excitedly. At ten years old, he could see things more clearly. Aegon, though his brother, was unreliable. If he wanted to seed, he had to rely on Rhaegar.


    ...


    Red Keep, Banquet Hall


    Viserys was arranging the wine for the dinner, a smile on his face as he directed the servants to set up the ce.


    The sound of high heels echoed menacingly.


    Viserys''s smile froze as Alicent, dressed in a green gown, descended the stairs. Her curly hair trembled with each step, and her grim expression betrayed her foul mood.


    "Alicent, you should be with Aegon," Viserys began.


    Alicent''s eyes, filled with sadness and anger, shed as she retorted, "You are the one who should be with Aegon; you are his father."


    Viserys rubbed his forehead. "Aegon is a man, not as fragile as you think."


    "What do you mean, not as fragile as you think?" Alicent eximed angrily, nearly dancing with agitation. "It''s all because of your good brother! He attacked Rhaegar before, and now he''s injured Aegon, and you''re just going to let him do it?"


    At that moment, Rhaegar and Rhaenyra entered the hall together, followed by a small entourage: Hena, Aemond, and Daeron. Aegon wasn''t there. Rumor had it he''d been beaten and was bedridden.


    Viserys nced at the arriving children and tried to soothe his wife. "Daemon has changed. He is the Lord of the Narrow Sea and is responsible for the Stepstones."


    "His responsibility is to wound Aegon, his own brother''s child?" Alicent would not relent, her voice rising.


    A few days ago, Aegon had returned to King''s Landing by ship, bruised and swollen. The guards revealed that Daemon had beaten him on Bloodstone Ind. Daemon had mobilized the garrison to attack the Triarchy''s pirates, but Aegon had dyed the attack, allowing the pirates to escape. In a rage, Daemon had publicly beaten and humiliated Aegon.


    Alicent''s children were her bottom line, and Daemon''s actions had frayed her fragile nerves. She couldn''t stop thinking about Aegon''s physical and mental humiliation and demanded Daemon be held ountable.


    Viserys sighed helplessly, his head aching. Daemon had sent a letter exining that Aegon''s actions over the past year had undermined the defense of the Stepstones. Viserys had reconciled with his brother, believing Daemon was right to discipline Aegon.

 Chapter 263: The Clever Daeron

    Chapter 263: The Clever Daeron


    "Viserys, I have reason to suspect that Daemon is up to no good and harbors covetous desires for the Stepstones'' army."


    Alicent''s voice was serious, her eyes hard as she voiced her doubts about Daemon.


    There were 3,000 troops stationed on the Stepstones, controlled by Aegon, Daemon, and Cole. Cole had stepped down as Commander of the Kingsguard and remained on the Stepstones to atone for his sins. All three were people Viserys trusted implicitly.


    "Alicent, think about what you''re saying... How could Daemon covet the army of the Stepstones?" Viserys was physically and mentally exhausted, confused by his wife''s skepticism.


    Daemon was his brother, the infamous Rogue Prince. His father-inw was the head of House Vryon, Corlys Vryon, the wealthiest and most powerful lord in the Seven Kingdoms.


    Both he and his wife were esteemed dragonriders,manding Caraxes and thergest dragon, Vhagar. If Daemon needed an army, he could simply call for one, and many in the Seven Kingdoms would rally to his side. Why would he covet a garrison of 3,000 men on the Stepstones?


    Alicent persisted. "Daemon has always been constrained by Aegon. If he didn''t want to control the army, why did he send Aegon back to King''s Landing injured?"


    The conflict between Aegon and Daemon went back a long way. It was hard to believe that Daemon''s sudden move was without ulterior motives.


    "Alicent, enough!" Viserys''s voice was low and frustrated. "Daemon is my brother. He has the right to discipline his nephew who doesn''t follow the rules. Don''t suspect our family without sufficient evidence!"It was an irrefutable fact that Aegon had made a mistake. There was no need for conspiracy theories.


    "You will regret this, Viserys!" Alicent flinched at the outburst, her eyes reddening as she cried out and turned away.


    No one understood Daemon''s nature better than she did. He was an unapologetic rogue, a wolf in sheep''s clothing eager to take advantage of any weakness in the royal family.


    Viserys watched his wife''s retreating back helplessly, reaching out to stop her but then letting his hand fall.


    "Forget it, let her calm down first," he muttered to himself. Aegon had been injured, and it was natural for Alicent, as his mother, to be angry. Viserys was trying to convince himself.


    ...


    Without Alicent, the hostess, and Aegon, who was bedridden recuperating from his injuries, the dinner party felt awkwardly cold.


    After a quick meal, the children dispersed. Alone with his mulled wine, Viserys forced a smile and wished each of them "good night."


    Late at night, Rhaegary on his couch, pondering his father''s quarrel with Alicent. Since his release from prison, Daemon had kept a low profile in King''s Landing. Besides thest family dinner, Rhaegar had seen little of him. Yet it was evident to everyone that Daemon was not a man of honor. After losing his bid for the Iron Throne, he was bound to set his sights on something else.


    Knock, knock...


    A knock sounded on the door.


    "Come in," Rhaegar called out casually.


    Creak��


    The wooden door opened, and Rhaenyra, wearing a loose nightgown, quietly walked in. Rhaegar''s lips curled up involuntarily as he stretched his neck to take a look. Rhaenyra had been unusually clingytely.


    "Rhaegar, I just went to see Alicent. She''s in her room, in tears," Rhaenyra whispered as she walked over to the bed and sat down.


    "You''re concerned about her?" Rhaegar reached out, grasping her small, soft hand.


    Rhaenyra folded her legs together, her long hair cascading over her pink neck. She whispered, "Alicent is actually pretty pitiable too. No one truly cares about her."


    She had grown up with only three friends, with Alicent being the closest. Despite their estrangement, a bond remained. After all these years, it was time to let go of old grudges.


    Rhaenyra was doing well, loved by others, and free from trivial worries. Alicent, on the other hand, bore a heavy burden and had never truly lived for herself. Rhaenyra felt a pang of sympathy.


    "When you pity her, remember she''s married to your father, and you have to call her stepmother," Rhaegar said tly, dismissing the notion of sentimental ties. He wasn''t like Rhaenyra, who had grown up surrounded by emotions and had developed a sentimental nature.


    He had no mother, rarely saw his father, and nightmares were his constantpanion. Rhaenyra''s "love" was what had drawn them close. He cared for nothing else, and the concept of "friendship" seemed irrelevant. In the Seven Kingdoms, no one his age was worthy of being his friend.


    "Rhaegar, you always manage to bring me back to reality," Rhaenyra said, rolling her eyes as she fell into his arms, bumping her head against his chest.


    Talking to him like this didn''t offer any emotional sce. Rhaegar cupped her troubled head, saying dejectedly, "Alicent is not as simple as you think."


    A woman who had taken care of her great-grandfather Jaehaerys I in his old age, climbed into her father Viserys'' bed, and bore four heirs��she was far from simple-minded.


    Rhaenyra, frustrated, rolled over and pinned him beneath her, her hands supporting her on the soft goose-feather mattress as she looked down at him.


    Rhaegary there, waiting for his punishment.


    "Rhaegar, you''re not listening," Rhaenyra said, pulling back her silver hair and running her small hand down the cor of his shirt.


    Knock, knock...


    A knock on the door abruptly interrupted the intimate atmosphere. Rhaenyra''s face fell as she quickly moved away, retreating from the "battlefield."


    "Who is it at thiste hour?" Rhaegar called out in annoyance, his head hanging in frustration.


    "Brother, it''s me."


    Hena''s delicate voice floated through the door.


    Rhaenyra gave Rhaegar a yful kick, muttering, "You''re right, Alicent is really annoying."


    Especially her daughter, who had a knack for interrupting at the worst moments.


    Sighing inwardly, Rhaegar got out of bed and opened the door.


    Creak...


    The door swung open, revealing Hena in a light green robe, her face bright and expectant.


    "Hena," Rhaegar greeted, his gaze drifting to the small figure beside her.


    "Brother," came the delicate voice of Daeron, who held Hena''s hand and shed a smile.


    Daeron was very handsome, no less than Rhaegar had been as a child. Dressed in a white shirt with a green coat, his short silver-blonde hair and big purple eyes darted around.


    Rhaegar nodded in response, blocking the doorway as he asked, "Why are you up sote?"


    "We..."


    Hena hesitated, her response slow.


    Daeron answered first, "Mother is angry and doesn''t care about us, so we came to y with you and sister."


    "Is that so?" Rhaegar questioned, scanning his siblings.


    Hena nodded vigorously, her face tight with worry.


    Daeron nodded as well, producing a book from behind him.


    Rhaegar rubbed Hena''s hair, asking, "Where''s Aemond? Isn''t he usually the clingiest to you?"


    "He''s gone to find Aegon and isn''t with us," Hena said crisply, half-squinting infort.


    "Come in. Rhaenyra''s here too," Rhaegar said, stepping aside to let the two youngsters enter.


    Rhaenyra knelt on the couch, eyeing her younger siblings critically.


    They didn��t sleep in the middle of the night but came to Rhaegar''s room; there was something odd about that!


    Feeling their elder sister''s scrutinizing gaze, Hena and Daeron hurriedly saluted, looking like a pair of guilty children.


    Rhaenyra waved her hand dismissively, slightly embarrassed by her intensity.


    "As if I��m that scary," she murmured to herself.


    Rhaegar sat on the bed and stared at Hena and Daeron with a serious expression. "Alright, what''s really going on at thiste hour?"


    Hena and Daeron exchanged wide-eyed nces.


    Hena nudged Daeron. "You tell him."


    Daeron hesitated.


    Rhaegar noticed and focused his attention on Daeron, suspecting the younger sibling had instigated this visit.


    "Ahem, I found a book on the ult," Daeron finally admitted, holding up the book in his hands. "It talks about the connection between dragons and magic. I thought it was fascinating."


    He handed the book over, his eyes full of anticipation.


    Rhaegar shook his head with a chuckle, reaching out to take the book and flipping through it. He recognized it immediately��a collection of spective tales about dragons and magic.


    "ording to the traditions of the Dothraki people of the Great Grass Sea of Essos, there were originally two moons in the sky, and one of them got too close to the sun and suffered a heat explosion, giving birth to countless dragons... Magic is like a tidal wave, sometimes surging, sometimes falling silent... Magic disappears from public view, but the Citadel and the Alchemy Guild have magical ss candles that allow them to observe the existence of magic..."


    Rhaegar smiled nostalgically. He had read this same book when he was young and had been equally captivated by its imaginative tales.


    "How is it? Isn''t it wonderful?" Daeron stood on his tiptoes, pointing to a passage in the book. "ss candles, to observe real magic."


    Daeron was fascinated by dragons and magic, especially given his own young cobalt blue dragon, Tessarion.


    Rhaegar handed the book back and asked, "How do you think dragons came to be, and what is magic?"


    "I don''t know," Daeron admitted, shaking his head.


    "Don''t dwell on this book. It will pique your interest but won''t provide real answers," Rhaegar advised, nodding at the book in Daeron''s hands. He then reached into his space bracelet and produced two ancient books.


    "Wow, this is magic!" Daeron''s eyes widened in awe as he watched the silver-gray patterned space bracelet reveal the ancient tomes.


    Rhaegar smiled and handed the books to Daeron. "These are ancient books from another powerful Dragonlord family. They��re more suited for your studies."


    These were books from the long-lost "Berys" family, which Rhaegar had found in his space bracelet when he was six. They chronicled a different history of dragonlords and were among his most treasured possessions.


    Daeron held the books as if they were the most precious things in the world. "Brother, do you really know magic?"


    "Not know it, but I can tap into it," Rhaegar corrected, speaking seriously. "Every Targaryen has magic in their blood. The difference is that I��ve figured out some of its mysteries."

 Chapter 264: Teaching Runes

    Chapter 264: Teaching Runes


    "Where''s the magic?" Daeron frowned, extending his small hand in eager anticipation.


    He didn''t see any magic, nor did he feel any different from an ordinary person.


    Rhaegar mirrored his gesture, holding out his own hand. "You are a Targaryen," he said seriously. "Remember, blood and firee from the same source."


    As he spoke, a wisp of me flickered into existence on his palm.


    "Fire!!!" Daeron eximed in shock, his eyes wide with amazement.


    Rhaenyra and Hena remained much calmer, watching patiently. They had witnessed Rhaegar''s extraordinary powers before; mes were just one of his abilities.


    Rhaegar gently shook his hand, making the me dance. "Grow up quickly," he said. "When you can help share the burden, I��ll consider passing this power on to the family."


    Though his words were directed at Daeron, they seemed to echo his own thoughts. The family was strong, but fragmented, and none of them were reliable enough for him to share his secrets. Be it pyromancy, blood magic or runic knowledge.


    If things continued this way, he might have to wait for his own heir to carry on the legacy.Daeron stared at the mes, longing etched on his face. "Can I really learn this kind of fire magic?"


    "It''s hard to say, but there''s always something you can learn," Rhaegar replied, extinguishing the me.


    Daeron, determined, clutched the ancient book tightly. "I can definitely do it," he dered. Remembering something, he turned to leave. "I''ll go back to read the book and finish the ancient one you gave me first."


    Rhaegar didn''t stop him, watching Daeron''s small figure exit the room. This youngest brother, apart from his talent for taming dragons, also showed a remarkable determination to learn. Compared to Aegon and Aemond, he had a greater will to improve himself.


    As Daeron left, Hena stood frozen, tilting her head in confusion. Was she just being left here?


    Rhaegar turned to Rhaenyra and Hena. "Do you want to learn magic?"


    "Are you sure you want to pass on this power?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone serious.


    "You must keep it a secret," Rhaegar cautioned.


    He wanted to equip Rhaenyra and Hena with some self-preservation skills, unlike his brothers.


    Rhaenyra considered this, then extended her hand. Hena followed suit, holding out her chubby little hand.


    "Ready?" Rhaegar asked, his eyes full of seriousness.


    The sisters nodded solemnly.


    "Very good," Rhaegar said, touching their hands briefly before shaking them off.


    Under their puzzled gazes, he took out a sheet of paper and shrugged. "You don''t have the talent of a Pyromancer, so you''ll learn some runes."


    He wasn��t an inherited bloodmage who could discern talent with a handshake. Passing on knowledge through written instructions was more practical.


    Rhaenyra sighed, feeling a bit embarrassed by her own curiosity.


    On the page, the construction and inscription of the rune "Bronze" were clearly detailed. The preface described the mysteries of the runic system and the connection between magic power and bloodline.


    Rhaenyra pulled the confused Hena into her arms so they could view the contents together.


    Rhaegary back and closed his eyes, letting them absorb the information at their own pace. Passing on knowledge required patience. If they could understand, they would learn. If not, even hands-on teaching wouldn''t make a difference.


    ...


    Meanwhile, in Aegon''s room:


    As Aemond approached, he heard their mother''s voice from inside.


    "Aegon, your father doesn''t care about you. You need to learn to think for yourself."


    Creak...


    Before Aemond could eavesdrop further, the door opened, and Alicent emerged, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She wiped away her tears and forced a smile.


    "Aegon is resting inside. Go see him," she said softly, knowing how close her two sons were.


    "You should rest too, Mother," Aemond advised, gently pushing the door open and stepping inside.


    Alicent nodded, smiling faintly, and hurried away.


    Inside, Aegony shirtless on his couch, staring bored at the ceiling. A maid was tidying up, bending over to pick up the dishes. Aegon nced at her rounded figure, licking his lips.


    Just as he was about to reach out, Aemond''s voice interrupted, "Aegon, are you all right?"


    Startled, Aegon quickly withdrew his hand.


    "Prince Aemond," the maid said, curtsying to the young prince.


    Aemond gave Aegon a knowing look and waved the maid away. "You may leave. I need to speak with Aegon."


    The maid nodded, gathered the tray, and left the room with a quick, formal step.


    Now alone, Aegon''s face twisted in annoyance. "I was just about to touch her, and you had toe in."


    "Aegon, she is Mother''s maid," Aemond said, his voice tinged with disapproval as he sat down on the bed.


    "So what? You like voluptuous women too," Aegon retorted, sitting up and propping himself on his hands.


    "Aegon!" Aemond''s voice rose, scolding him.


    Aegon smirked. "Fine, fine, I''ll stop." He pulled the quilt over his lower body and asked reluctantly, "What do you want?"


    This younger brother of his always tried to y the noble role, the perfect child their parents adored. But deep down, Aegon knew he was no different from him.


    "I asked Rhaegar for permission to visit Dragonstone, and he agreed," Aemond said, excitement gleaming in his eyes. "I want you toe with me. Help me find a powerful dragon."


    Aegon looked at him quietly, tilting his head.


    For a moment, there was silence.


    Then, Aegon burst intoughter. "Pfft... hahahaha... You can''t even tame a young dragon, and you want to tame an adult one?"


    If the dragons on Dragonstone were that easy to tame, they would have been secretly taken by the dragonseeds on the ind long ago. What makes him think he has a chance?


    Aemond''s face flushed with anger. "Why can''t I do it? If Rhaegar can tame the Cannibal, I can too!"


    "Hahaha, stop it, you''re killing me!" Aegonughed loudly, wincing from the bruises and pain on his face. He covered his face, stillughing. "Rhaegar is a monster. He jumped on the Cannibal''s back to tame it. You''d be too scared to move if you saw that ck dragon."


    "Aegon, I consider you my brother!" Aemond shouted, clenching his fists at the ridicule.


    Aegon stifled hisughter and said, "It''s all right if you don''t have a dragon, Aemond. There was a dragonless Targaryen in our grandparents'' generation too."


    Vaegon Targaryen, the seventh child and fourth son of King Jaehaerys I, was known for being mean and emotionally indifferent. He disliked his sister, whom he was supposed to marry, and had no interest in dragons.


    Later, he traveled to the Citadel and became a maester devoted to research. Shortly after Jaehaerys I''s death, Vaegon also died, and thus the Targaryens of that generation were nearly wiped out.


    Being taunted as dragonless made Aemond grimace. Rising to his feet, he shouted, "Aegon, I will prove myself!"


    He was fed up with his brother, who only found validation in mocking him. Aemond walked quickly to the door of his room and left in a fury.


    As he watched his brother leave, Aegony back down, smacking his lips. The movement caused his bruises to ache, and he grimaced, cursing, "Damn Daemon. How dare you hold a personal vendetta? You''ll pay for this."


    ...


    A few dayster...


    In the Council Hall, a Small Council meeting was in session.


    The exhausted King Viserys sat at the head of the table, looking around at his royal advisers.


    "Your Grace, Lord Boremund has passed away, and his son Borros has inherited Storm��s End and is organizing a funeral," Otto Hightower reported, holding a letter with a solemn expression.


    Viserys rubbed his brow and sighed, "Lord Boremund was an honorable lord. His death is a loss for the Seven Kingdoms."


    Lord Beesbury spoke up, "Your Grace, Lord Boremund was highly esteemed by the people. The royal family should pay their respects."


    Lyonel Strong nodded in agreement. "Indeed. It would also be a good opportunity to connect with the new Lord Borros and ensure his loyalty to the crown."


    Borros had a formidable reputation��rude, martial, proud, and arrogant. It was crucial to confirm his loyalty now that he was the Lord of Storm��s End.


    "Borros is a cousin of Rhaenys. He will be a loyal Targaryen ally," Viserys said, trusting yet clearly reluctant to travel to Storm��s End for the funeral. His health had been declining, and any journey, whether by Kingsroad or by sea, would be taxing.


    Lyonel, detecting the king''s reluctance, insisted, "Your Grace, Lord Boremund was once married to a Targaryen. It''s fitting for the royal family to intervene."


    "I agree," added Jasper Wylde, the Master of Laws. With the end of the War for the Stepstones, the kingdom''s control over the Narrow Sea had strengthened, and rtions with the Baratheon House had be more frequent. The Baratheons'' attitude towards the royal family had shifted from respect to a more indifferent stance, which was concerning.


    Several advisers supported the idea, but Viserys remained hesitant. After a moment of thought, he looked towards his eldest son.


    Sensing his father''s silent plea, Rhaegar spoke up, "Father, I will go to Storm��s End on behalf of the royal family."


    He had anticipated Lord Boremund''s demise and was keen to gauge Borros'' loyalty. As the heir, his presence would be significant.


    Viserys'' eyes brightened, pleased with his son''s offer. At this moment, Otto Hightower knocked on the table, suggesting, "Why don''t we have Prince Rhaegar lead several princes and princesses to Storm��s End? It would show the royal family''s respect for Lord Boremund."


    "All of them?" Viserys hesitated.


    Otto''s eyes were calcting. "Storm��s End is not far from Bloodstone Ind. Prince Aegon needs to address his recent mistakes and should return to his fief to oversee it. Additionally, the other princes and princesses seldom venture outside the kingdom. It would be beneficial for them to show the royal family''s prosperity and strength."


    Viserys hesitated. Otto''s suggestion had merit and aligned with his ideals of family unity and public disy of the royal family''s importance.

 Chapter 265: The Strength of the Targaryen House

    Chapter 265: The Strength of the Targaryen House


    Viserys'' desire to showcase the prosperity and power of House Targaryen began to take shape.


    Gently turning the gemstone ring on his finger, he asked Rhaegar, "Storm��s End is not far from King''s Landing. Will you be able to manage your younger siblings on such a journey?"


    Rhaegar, ever cautious, responded, "I will be riding my dragon. Are you certain about this?"


    He advised his father to think carefully, considering the harsh weather conditions around Storm��s End with its constant cloud cover and heavy rains. Alicent would not be pleased with sending several of her children away.


    "That''s not a problem. Aegon, Hena, and Daeron all have dragons as well," Otto interjected confidently. His faith in his grandchildren was evident.


    A Targaryen with a dragon was a formidable presence.


    Rhaegar''s eyes glinted as he looked at his father, who seemed torn yet determined. He did not rush to refuse. Borros Baratheon was known for his arrogance and conceit. A visit to Storm��s End with his siblings would remind the nobles of the Stornds of the Targaryens'' might.


    After a brief discussion, the advisors agreed to Otto''s proposal. Viserys, filled with confidence, dered, "Let Rhaegar lead the expedition to Storm''s End with his younger brothers. Let the people of the Seven Kingdoms see the strength of House Targaryen."


    His old dragon had died, but his children were all dragonriders. It was time to show the world this heritage.Rhaegar nodded in agreement, mentally nning the details of the journey.


    ...


    Early the next morning, the usually cold and quiet Dragonpit was bustling with activity.


    Several dragons emerged from their pits, guided by their keepers to find their respective riders.


    Aegon reluctantly mounted the magnificent Sunfyre, his expression mirroring the dragon��s unwillingness.


    Aemond, without a dragon of his own, was assigned to ride with Aegon. He nervously climbed onto Sunfyre''s back, fastening himself into the saddle.


    ��Roar...��


    Sunfyre let out a low growl, his golden scales shimmering in the sunlight as he shifted restlessly.


    Nearby, Syrax responded with a warning growl, pping its wings in a disy of dominance.


    Sunfyre spread his wings in response, his pale pink membranes catching the light.


    ��Syrax, calm down,�� Rhaenyramanded, standing in front of her dragon in a ck dragonrider''s outfit, soothingly rubbing Syrax��s jaw.


    Not far away, Tessariony on the ground, wagging his tail and watching themotion.


    ��Climb onto the dragon''s back and fasten the chains; everything will be fine,�� Rhaegar instructed, helping young Daeron onto Tessarion��s back.


    ��Don''t worry, brother,�� Daeron said, climbing into the saddle with a mix of excitement and nervousness. It was his first time flying a dragon.


    ��Roar...�� Tessarion growled softly, getting to his feet and looking back at his new rider.


    Daeron took a deep breath. ��Tessarion, carry me into the sky.��


    With a powerful p of his wings, Tessarion created a fierce wind, blowing dust in all directions. Rhaegar stepped back, signaling the Dragonkeepers to clear the area.


    ��Tessarion, fly!�� Daeron shouted, gripping the saddle tightly.


    Tessarion roared, stomping his feet beforeunching into the air, quickly exiting the Dragonpit and soaring into the sunlight.


    ��Not bad for a seven-year-old,�� Rhaegar muttered, his blood boiling with excitement.


    Climbing onto Cannibal��s back, he looked around at his siblings and shouted, ��Let��s go, everyone!��


    Cannibal roared and took off first, his massive wings propelling him into the sky.


    Hena''s Dreamfyre followed, a light blue dragon matching the pace with a roar.


    Sunfyre and Syrax spread their wings and joined the ascent, determined not to be left behind.


    Five dragons carrying six Targaryens flew over King��s Landing, heading towards ckwater Bay, a magnificent disy of Targaryen power and unity.


    ...


    Afternoon


    Several dragon shadows crossed the Narrow Sea, reaching the region of Storm��s End.


    Rhaegar led the way on Cannibal, plunging into the heavy clouds of gloom and mist, feeling the cool, moist air.


    Aegon urged Sunfyre to speed up, ignoring Aemond''s terrified screams as they disappeared into the clouds.


    Syrax and Dreamfyre flew steadily, with the smaller Tessarion trailing far behind. It was Daeron''s first time riding a dragon, and his sisters stayed close to watch over him.


    ...


    At Storm''s End Castle


    Storm��s End Castle, a legendary fortress built on the edge of the sea, had withstood thousands of years of wind and rain. Upon hearing of Lord Boremund��s death, nobles from across the Stornds had gathered to pay their respects.


    A carriage crossed the narrow bridge of Storm��s End Castle, entering amidst the wind and rain. The sky was cloudy and the air humid, adding to the somber atmosphere of the funeral.


    Rumble


    Rain poured down, apanied by continuous lightning and thunder, drenching every guest who stepped out of their carriages.


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, a dragon��s roar, thunderous and echoing, filled the sky, sending gusts of wind toward Storm��s End.


    ��Look, it��s a dragon!��


    ��Several dragons!��


    Cannibal, ck as charcoal, broke through the rainy clouds, its green pupils shing coldly. Rhaegar narrowed his eyes and opened his arms, letting the cold rain beat down on him.


    Amidst the guests'' panic, Cannibal circled Storm''s End Castle twice beforending in an open space outside the city walls.


    Boom


    The groundpacted into a deep pit, sshing muddy water as Cannibalnded, roaring with its head held high. Under the gloomy rain, it looked like a terrifying god of destruction.


    "Roar!"


    Another roar, as loud as a flood bell, echoed with a menacing tone. Rhaegar and Cannibal turned to see a massive dragon with dark green scales on the other side of the city wall.


    Vhagar, with its thick neck and spiny back towering over the wall, stared coldly at the younger Cannibal. The two true dragons locked eyes in a deadly stare, their murderous intent palpable.


    Cannibal��s green eyes shed with cruelty, baring its dragon teeth. Despite growingrger, it refrained from attacking. Vhagar, though enormous and imposing, showed signs of age with cloudy pupils and a stiff, heavy body.


    ��Cannibal, it is not our enemy,�� Rhaegar said coldly, sensing the dragon��s agitation and curbing its bloodlust. Cannibal had grown significantly, its spine towering over the 100-foot wall and wings covering a vast area, but Rhaegar knew Vhagar was not to be fought.


    The old dragon had once belonged to his grandfather, Baelon. Laena was wise and intelligent, unlikely to ride Vhagar into battle. Letting the first-generation dragon live out its final days in peace was a more honorable choice.


    Sunfyre broke through the rolling clouds, carrying Aegon and Aemond around Storm��s End Castle. Its roar echoed arrogantly across the sky.


    At a nce, Aemond spotted Vhagar confronting Cannibal and quickly looked away.


    "It''s Vhagar, the biggest dragon in the world!" Aemond nudged Aegon excitedly.


    He had only seen Vhagar a handful of times, and this close encounter was awe-inspiring.


    "Quiet, I''mnding," Aegon muttered impatiently, guiding Sunfyre to the courtyard of Storm��s End Castle.


    With Vhagar and Cannibal dominating one side of the wall, the other dragons kept their distance.


    Storm��s End had limited space, and the courtyard was the only area left to house the dragons.


    Rhaegar dismounted, stepping on the wet ck scales of Cannibal. He walked to the top of the dragon''s head and soothed it gently, "Stay here, wait for me."


    Cannibal let out a low growl, flicking its tail and nting its wings in the muddy ground. Dragons, being highly territorial, felt the urge to fight when facing an equal.


    "Good, I''ll be back soon," Rhaegar reassured, rubbing Cannibal''s rough horns before sliding down its neck through the rain.


    By the time he reached the courtyard, Dreamfyre and the other dragons had alsonded with their riders.


    "Prince, Princess..." The guards of Storm��s End Castle hurried to greet them, holding up canopies.


    The arrival of several dragons was a significant event, and they dared not show any disrespect.


    Rhaegar''s long hair was drenched, and water droplets covered his pale face, but he smiled nheless.


    He walked up to the soaked Rhaenyra, gently twisting the wet hair on the side of her face, and teased, "The rain can''t dull the beauty of ady."


    Rhaenyra wrung out her long hair, patted down the water on her dragon suit, and red at him yfully.


    Rhaegar epted the re with a grin, pulling out two cloaks and draping them over his sisters.


    "Thank you, brother," Hena said, clutching the cloak tightly. Her small face was pale from the cold, and she managed a faint smile.


    "Prince, pleasee inside. The Lady has prepared a room for you," a modestly dressed butler urged as he opened the castle door.


    Rhaegar looked at his younger siblings and led the way. "Let''s go inside, no more wind and rain."


    "Good," Daeron agreed, patting Tessarion and ordering the guards to hold a canopy over him.


    Dragons hated water and were especially restless in the rain. Tessarion, still a young dragon, was more agitated than the others.


    Rhaegar rubbed his youngest brother''s head and asked, "How was your first time riding a dragon?"


    "It was amazing!" Daeron replied, jumping up and down with joy.


    Aemond watched the scene, clenching his fists. Just before entering the castle, he nced back at the massive Vhagar, his eyes full of longing and expectation.

 Chapter 266: Daemon’s Unauthorized Actions

    Chapter 266: Daemon��s Unauthorized Actions


    As they walked into the castle, the stone halls appeared empty, lit only by a few bonfires.


    Stepping onto the soft carpet, Rhaegar noticed two women approaching with their servants.


    "Cousin,e wipe off the rain before you catch a cold," Laena said, draped in a nket. She handed out towels and shawls with the help of the servants.


    Beside her stood a mature woman with ck curly hair and a beautiful face. She spoke courteously, "It is an honor to wee all the princes and princesses to Storm��s End."


    Rhaegar , who had never seen thisdy before, looked at Rhaenyra inquiringly.


    Tightening her cloak, Rhaenyra replied regretfully, "We are here to pay our respects to thete Lord Boremund, Lady Elenda."


    Elenda responded mildly, "I have seen the sincerity of the Targaryens. Please, prepare to take a warm bath to avoid catching a cold."


    "Thank you, mydy," Rhaenyra said, expressing her gratitude and quietly informing Rhaegar of Elenda''s identity.


    Elenda Caron, born into the House Caron of Nightsong, a region in the Dornish Marches, had married Borros Baratheon. She wasn''t well known in her early years, but now she was the Lady of Storm��s End.Rhaegar brushed back his wet hair, exchanged polite pleasantries, and then asked bluntly, "Where is Lord Borros? Why haven''t we seen him?"


    "My husband is entertaining Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys, paying homage to histe father-inw," Lady Elenda''s voice was maic, and she responded calmly.


    Although it was discourteous that Borros hadn''te out to greet them, her exnation was reasonable, assuaging any discontent among the princes and princesses.


    Since they hade to pay their respects, Rhaegar chose not to be critical and allowed himself to be led up the stairs by his attendant. He was soaked to the skin and needed to change before seeing anyone.


    As the group conversed, more guests were entertained and brought into the castle. Lady Elenda managed the arrivals with well-organized grace, thanking each one personally.


    ...


    After washing up, Rhaegar left the bathroom to find his brothers and sisters. Laena had been waiting for a while, gathering her cousins to head upstairs to the Great Hall of Storm��s End for the feast.


    She rubbed her belly with one hand and exined, "There will be no outsiders at the feast. Lord Borros has arranged it especially for us and our family."


    "Cousin, Daemon and Laenor didn''te?" Rhaegar asked, noting the absence of Seasmoke.


    Laena hesitated for a moment, then grumbled, "Daemon arrivedter, and Laenor went with him to the Stepstones for defense."


    With Caraxes not fully healed, Daemon didn''t have a dragon to lead him, so Laenor and Aegon took turns leading the patrols.


    As they chatted, they soon arrived at the hall where the banquet was to be held. A bearded Borros sat at the head of the table, scolding his servants. Across from him, Corlys was calmly rubbing his chin, and Rhaenys, dressed in a corseted gown, stood by the wine cooler, eyeing Borros with displeasure.


    If he weren''t her cousin, she might have pped him.


    Rhaegar and Rhaenyra approached with smiles, greeting them, "Aunt Rhaenys, Lord Corlys."


    Seeing her nephews and nieces, Rhaenys lifted her smile and held a bottle of fine wine as she stepped forward. "I didn''t expect you all to be here. What a pleasant surprise!"


    "Lord Boremund''s contributions were so significant that Father emphasized our presence here," Rhaegar said warmly, offering a hug to his enthusiastic aunt.


    Rhaenys hugged her nephews and nieces in turn, then took the hands of Rhaenyra and Hena. "Borros can be rough around the edges. Don''t be offended by anyck of hospitality. It''smendable that you braved the rain toe here."


    Rhaegar and his brothers followed her, casting nces at the still-irate Borros. Realizing he was being watched, Borros patted his coat, stood up, and lifted his chin proudly. "The Baratheon House thanks you and your family for visiting, Prince."


    He then gave a shallow bow, his bloated stomach making the gesture awkward.


    "Huh," Aegon snorted, seating himself with a sigh.


    Rhaegar nced at Aegon but said nothing. He ced a hand on Borros'' shoulder and said softly, "A moment of silence for your father."


    With that, he ignored the lord and sat down next to Rhaenyra. Borros, visibly irritated, took his seat and yelled at the servants to bring the dishes, venting his frustration.


    The grief of his father''s death,bined with the excitement of newfound power, left him struggling to control his emotions.


    The feast was about to begin when Lady Elenda arrived, apologizing, "I just greeted House Dondarrion of ckhaven. I hope I''m notte."


    "No, please sit down," Rhaenys replied, tasting the red wine and sharing it with her husband and two nieces.


    The feast officially began. Rhaenyra enjoyed the carefully selected dishes, smiled at Corlys, and casually said, "Lord Corlys, I heard you recently made a significant deal with the Prince of Pentos?"


    Corlys, his demeanor unchanged, forked a steak and replied indifferently, "The spices and wine from Pentos are quite good."


    "I''ve been to Pentos. The local customs are fascinating," Rhaegar said, implying more but choosing to drop the topic.


    The Sea Snake had been quiet for three years, but his increasing contacts with the free cities warranted attention.


    Corlys didn''t respond directly, instead chatting with Borros about some strange tales. The banquet felt a bit chilly, but Lady Elenda and Laena did their best to entertain thedies.


    Aegon ignored the conversations, gulping his wine and thinking to himself, "Daemon didn''t show up. Otherwise, I''d have made him look bad."


    Despite being bested by his uncle before, Aegon didn''t believe he couldn''t win. He felt that Daemon''s initial attack had caught him off guard, preventing him from fighting back effectively.


    ...


    Bloodstone Ind.


    The sky was dark, with clouds rolling in, heavy with moisture, foreshadowing an impending storm.


    On the azure sea, a warship sailed toward the strait leading to the disputednds. Several cargo ships flying the g of the Triarchy moved steadily through the waterway.


    A deep horn sounded from a remote ind watchtower, its call spreading across the sea for miles.


    "What''s going on? Increase the alert!" The mercenaries on the cargo ships sprang into action, emerging from the cabins and taking up defensive positions.


    "Roar..." A sharp dragon roar pierced the air as a light gray dragon swooped down, unleashing a torrent of Dragonfire.


    Boom...


    The dragon''s mes struck a cargo ship, snapping its mast and igniting a fierce ze, sending mercenaries sprawling in chaos.


    "It''s a dragon, retreat!" the mercenary leader shouted, his face pale with shock. He had never imagined a dragon would attack them.


    As the cargo ships attempted to turn and flee, a warship approached from the distant sea, its mast flying the three-headed red dragon banner.


    Daemon, d in ck armor, his expression as cold as the stormy weather, eyed the cargo ships intently.


    With a swift motion, he drew his longsword and ordered the archers to ready their bows. "Attack! Leave no one alive!"


    Swish, swish, swish...


    Arrows flew, their ming tips raining down on the cargo ships like deadly fireflies. Screams filled the air as the ships erupted in mes, and the mercenaries fell into disarray.


    "Roar..." Laenor rode back on his dragon, Seasmoke, shouting, "Dracarys!"


    A fierce sea battle erupted. The warships closed in, their ramming horns smashing through the hulls of the cargo ships. Chains were thrown to hold the ships together.


    Daemon, wearing a helmet adorned with dragon wings, leaped onto the cargo ship with the agility of a predator. He cut down mercenaries with ruthless efficiency, his eyes cold and unyielding.


    The battle was long, but finally it ended. The soldiers cleared the battlefield and threw the bodies of the mercenaries into the sea to feed the fish.


    "Please, my lord, I am only a merchant..." One of the merchants begged for mercy on his knees, but was quickly silenced with a sh to the neck, dying with a look of despair.


    Daemon removed his helmet, leaned back against the railing, and received a letter from his adjutant. After reading it carefully, he grinned and stomped on the corpse beneath him with satisfaction.


    The letter bore the Vntiscrest in wax. Casually tearing the paper, Daemon strode to the cabin and kicked open the door.


    "Ah!... Don''t kill me..." Inside, besides crates of goods, there were ragged ves huddled together.


    Daemon scanned the room and then addressed his adjutant coldly, "Keep the female ves, dispose of the rest."


    "Yes, Prince." The adjutant, his face just as cold, drew his sword and entered the cabin. Soon, the air was filled with the sound of desperate, dying screams.


    Daemon paid no attention to the carnage, ordering the soldiers to gather the goods and transport them to the warship.


    Seasmoke flew overhead, its wings stirring the cold wind. Laenor, riding the dragon, looked torn and hesitant. "Is it really necessary to plunder the Triarchy''s ships?"


    The Triarchy was divided between the aggressive Hawk faction and the more moderate Dove faction. Though tensions remained, both sides had maintained a fragile peace.


    Malicious plundering of the other side''s cargo ships can easily be the cause of a violent bacsh.


    "Why not?" Daemon replied, his face expressionless. "If the Triarchy can plunder our ships, we can plunder theirs."


    Laenor, ufortable with such ruthlessness, changed the subject. "Laena asked you to attend the funeral at Storm��s End. Do you want a ride?"


    "No need," Daemon said, wiping the blood from his longsword on a corpse''s clothes. He smirked, "I can go where I want without a dragon. Besides, I''ve just acquired a shipment of treasure. I''ll take a ship and bring gifts to the appointment."


    ...


    Three dayster, the funeral ceremony was held at Storm��s End Castle.


    The sky was overcast, casting a somber mood over the event. In the center of the vestibule, a one-person-high wooden tform held the body of Lord Boremund.


    Rhaegar presented a bouquet of flowers and bowed his head in silence. Behind him, Borros and the other guests followed suit,ying down their bouquets and offering eulogies.


    Borros, his eyes red and swollen, held the hands of his wife and daughters as he struggled to contain his grief while looking at his father''s closed eyes.


    Rhaenys gently urged, "Borros, let uncle rest in peace."


    Borros nodded, releasing his wife''s and daughters'' hands. He walked solemnly to Rhaegar, who was dressed in ck armor, and said, "I beg you, Prince."


    "My condolences," Rhaegar replied, then turned his gaze to the Cannibal dragon near the city gates.


    ording to Lord Boremund''s dying wish, he desired to be cremated like his wife. Rhaegar connected with Cannibal''s mind and spoke in High Valyrian, "Cannibal, Dracarys!"


    "Roar..." Cannibal''s wings spread as he slowly approached the wooden tform. He raised his neck high and unleashed a precise stream of dark green Dragonfire.


    The mes engulfed the remains rapidly, the dry wood fueling the intense ze. The fire consumed the body, leaving only ashes behind.


    "Roar!!"


    "Roar..." Cannibal''s roar was joined by those of other dragons, including Dreamfire and Syrax, their cries echoing throughout Storm��s End Castle.


    The guests lifted their heads and recited eulogies reverently. The vestibule was filled with the sight and sound of several massive dragons, each with different scales and colors, their roars resonating deeply with the mourners.


    The ruling power of House Targaryen was felt by all in attendance.

 Chapter 267: Head-on Confrontation

    Chapter 267: Head-on Confrontation


    Halfway through the funeral, a guest arrivedte. Daemon docked at Storm''s End Castle on a three-masted sailing ship, bringing with him a considerable cargo of goods.


    A grief-stricken Borros ignored the arrival and sent his wife, Lady Elenda, and their two daughters to greet Daemon.


    As Daemon entered the castle''s forecourt, the cremation pyre zed brightly, casting an eerie glow against the gloomy sky.


    At the sight of the visitor, Aegon, visibly irritated, wrinkled his face and shouted, "Daemon, how dare you appear before me!"


    He lunged forward, fist raised to strike. His sudden action stunned everyone present.


    "Aegon!" Aemond eximed, shocked by his brother''s impulsiveness.


    Aegon, however, saw only Daemon��s hateful figure. Daemon, with a yful glint in his eyes, waited for his nephew to approach.


    Aegon��s punch missed, leaving him open.


    "Fool!" Daemon sneered, yanking Aegon''s arm and driving a knee into his chest.Aegon''s face turned pale as he staggered, feeling his heart momentarily stop. Daemon followed with a p that sent Aegon sprawling onto the patio floor, silver hair disheveled.


    "Daemon, stop it!" Laena cried out in shock, remembering the Queen''s hatred from thest time Daemon had taught Aegon a lesson.


    The crowd finally reacted. Rhaenyra watched in disbelief, her eyes wide with confusion.


    Aegon... how dare you?


    That��s Daemon! If you want to challenge him, you need to weigh your own strength first.


    Daemon heard Laena��s cry and paused, mockingly kicking Aegon with the tip of his foot. "My dear nephew, do you think you''re your brother, mimicking his disrespectful words to me?"


    "Daemon, you bastard!" Aegon groaned in pain, curling up on the ground.


    Daemon''s face darkened. He crouched down, yanking Aegon''s cor and gripping his jaw.


    That bastard has been looking for trouble ever since he took office as Commander of the Narrow Sea. I''ve tolerated him long enough.


    "Daemon, think about what you''re doing and stop," Laena pleaded, rushing over with her belly in her hands. She pushed her angry husband away, fearing the consequences.


    Daemon took two steps back, looked at Aegon with contempt, and sneered, "He started it. It is my duty to teach my disobedient nephew a lesson."


    At this point, no one could remain passive. Borros stepped forward, his sadness reced by anger. "Demon, this is my father''s funeral. Show some respect."


    Daemon ignored the wailing Aegon and walked towards the pyre with a straight face. Passing a servant, he took a bouquet of flowers and threw it into the mes, sping his hands to recite the eulogy.


    At least he had the decency to do so.


    Borros red angrily, turning his anger towards Rhaegar. "Prince, is this your Targaryen etiquette, disrupting the funeral of a loyal servant?" he demanded in a deep voice.


    "Lord Borros, it was Aegon and Daemon who started the fight. It was never our intention to cause a disturbance," Rhaenyra interjected, trying to defuse the situation and prevent Rhaegar from taking the me.


    Rhaegar remainedposed, his expression impassive as he nced briefly at Rhaenyra. He knew he had to handle this himself. Borros did not deserve a calm exnation, nor did he merit the courtesy Rhaenyra had shown.


    Predictably, Borros ignored her words, his anger directed solely at the Targaryens. "Daemon is the king''s brother and Aegon is the king''s second son, yet they show no respect for the Baratheon name!" he spat.


    Rhaenyra''s face darkened, ready to retort, but Rhaegar intervened. "Enough, Rhaenyra," he said firmly, gripping her waist and moving her behind him.


    He knew arguing about right and wrong would only escte the situation. He turned his cold gaze to Daemon. "Don''t you have anything to say, uncle?"


    Daemon finished cing the bouquet, his expression indifferent. "A disobedient nephew needs to be educated," he replied tly.


    "Aegon may be foolish, but he is not the only one who is disobedient," Rhaegar responded, his tone measured but wary. He suspected there was more behind Daemon''s recent behavior.


    "Prince, my father''s body is still being cremated. You owe me an exnation!" Borros insisted, his face flushed with anger.


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as he looked at the Lord of Storm''s End. "Lord Borros, what kind of exnation do you seek?" he asked, his voice cold and unyielding as he stepped closer, towering over the other man.


    Borros hesitated, remembering the recent roar of the dragons, and his breath caught. Rhaegar''s piercing purple eyes bore into him, and he could feel his resolve weakening.


    "Lord Boremund was a tolerant man. I believe he would want you to exhibit the same heart," Rhaegar said, his voice calm but firm.


    The tension was palpable as no one dared to interrupt. Everyone knew of the friction between Lord Borros and Prince Rhaegar, but they never expected it to escte into a confrontation.


    Daemon watched with interest, feeling no guilt, only contempt for Borros. He was a Targaryen, and he would not bow to anyone.


    Rhaegar''s way of handling the situation resonated with him deeply. It was a disy of strength and authority, befitting their house.


    "Roar..."


    The thoughts of humans wereplex and strange, but the thoughts of dragons were more pure. Sensing his master��s displeasure, Cannibal let out a warning roar. His long, thick neck descended, and his dark head loomed over Rhaegar, casting a shadow over the prince.


    A pair of eerie green eyes red at Borros, the dragon ready to unleash destruction at its master��smand.


    Facing the fierce dragon, Borros swallowed hard, cold sweat running down his spine. At that moment, his thoughts raced, recalling his father��s words: "The Targaryens nevercked an army because they rode the dragons."


    His father had fought alongside King Jaehaerys I, defeating Dornish armies by the thousands. The world, having enjoyed peace for so long, had forgotten the wrath of dragons.


    Borros resisted the urge to flee, trembling as he lowered his proud head. "Prince, this is merely a small incident. It will not affect the generations-long friendship between the Targaryens and the Baratheons," he said, his voice shaky.


    He yielded. The status of a lord did not permit him to act recklessly and publicly challenge a Targaryen heir.


    Rhaegar remained silent, hands folded in front of his belly, staring as if he hadn''t heard Borros. The Cannibal grinned, revealing sharp teeth, its breathing synchronized with its master��s.


    Seeing the dragon''s bared fangs, Borros''s heart raced. He hastily added, "Prince, the funeral is over, and a sumptuous feast awaits in the castle!"


    He was at a loss for words, unsure how to beg for mercy. Seeing his dilemma, Rhaenys broke away from her husband''s grasp and interceded. "Rhaegar, Borros is as generous as his father. Don��t misjudge him."


    First, Aegon and Daemon fought; now Borros was being targeted by a dragon. The rapid turn of events left most people''s heads spinning. The atmosphere had soured, and the air felt tense and cold.


    Borros, hearing his cousin��s voice, felt a glimmer of hope and moved towards it. But Rhaegar��s voice stopped him in his tracks. "Lord Borros, where are you going?"


    Borros froze, not daring to move. Rhaegar exhaled deeply, his voice softening. "I apologize to you and yourte father for the ill-advised actions of my brother and uncle. I hope you won''t be offended; they did not mean to disturb."


    Rhaegar��s sincere apology shifted the me away from Aegon and Daemon. Borros, eager to end the confrontation, responded quickly, "No matter, the feast is about to begin. Let us move to the castle."


    He had lost face in front of all his bannermen and wanted to leave the scene as soon as possible. "As you wish, my lord," Rhaegar replied, his demeanor returning to its usual gentle and elegant state.


    The desired deterrent had been achieved. Borros forced a smile, unable to face his bannermen, and walked back to the castle under the watchful eyes of his guards.


    "Gentlemen, let us go as well," Lady Elenda said, embarrassed, leading the way back to the castle with her two daughters, trying to maintain the guests�� mood.


    Her husband��s character ws and moodiness often led him into situations without an easy escape. Soon, the guests, having witnessed enough excitement, dispersed with their own thoughts.


    The courtyard was left to the Targaryen members. Daemon took Laena��s hand, gently stroking her slightly bulging belly, feeling the new life within.


    Rhaegar nced at him, not in the mood for conversation. Daemon''s arrogance and unwillingness to heed advice was a constant source of tension.


    Aemond and Daeron helped Aegon to his feet and stood beside Rhaegar. Unlike the strained rtions with Aunt Rhaenys and Lord Corlys, or the animosity with Uncle Daemon, Rhaegar offered them a sense of security. The massive ck dragon was a clear deterrent to anyone who dared to offend him.


    "Daemon, don''t think I don''t know what you''re up to. I won''t let you get away with it," Aegon spat despite his battered appearance, ring at Daemon with anger.

 Chapter 268: The Free Cities Ambition

    Chapter 268: The Free Cities Ambition


    Humiliated by his opponent, Aegon''s pride burned. If Rhaegar could defeat Daemon, then so could he.


    "Aegon, you should shut up," Rhaegar said coldly. He despised stupidity, and his brother epitomized it.


    "Daemon is the guilty one!" Aegon retorted defiantly.


    Daemon raised an eyebrow, his gaze darkening, but someone else acted first.


    With a sudden movement, Rhaegar grabbed Aegon by the neck and lifted him like a rag doll. "Aegon, if you want to throw tantrums, do it back at the Red Keep. Don''t cause trouble here," he said icily. He turned his head towards Daemon, pointing sharply. "Uncle, that goes for you too. I''m done cleaning up after everyone."


    This wasn''t a ce for reckless behavior. Their every action reflected on the Targaryen honor. Rhaegar would not tolerate his family tarnishing their legacy.


    Daemon sensed the warning in his nephew��s eyes. He nced at Rhaegar, his expression unreadable, before leading his wife past him. As he departed, the tension eased.


    Aegon, still held by the neck, struggled to breathe, his face turning red. His hands wed at Rhaegar��s grip in desperation. In that moment, the fear of the past overwhelmed him.


    Seeing Aegon''s distress, Rhaenyra rushed forward. "Rhaegar, let go of Aegon, he can''t breathe," she pleaded, her voiceced with anxiety."I''m just trying to teach him a lesson," Rhaegar said, releasing his grip and feeling a surge of relief from his anger.


    Aegon copsed to the ground, clutching his throat and coughing violently, tears streaming from his eyes. Aemond, watching in fear, tugged at Aegon''s coat, his body trembling.


    "Let''s go, the feast is starting," Rhaegar said indifferently.


    Rhaenyra took his hand, squeezing his knuckles in a gesture of helpless support.


    ...


    Late at night, Storm''s End Castle was aze with light. The banquet, filled with merriment, was set tost until dawn.


    Around the table, members of the Targaryen and Vryon families Houses. Thanks to the efforts of a few of the women, the atmosphere was congenial, filled withughter and toasts.


    Rhaegar, deep in thought, suddenly asked, "Uncle, what are the recent movements of the Triarchy?"


    At his question, the lively chatter at the table ceased.


    Daemon, swirling his wine, responded frankly, "The Triarchy is as ambitious as ever, constantly plotting to regain their power."


    He glossed over the recent plundering of cargo ships, focusing instead on the Triarchy''s covetous designs on the Stepstones.


    "The pirates of the Triarchy are like weeds��impossible to eradicate," Rhaegar agreed, before shifting the topic. "I''ve heard that the Tiger Party of Vntis has its eyes on the Triarchy?"


    Rhaegar had his own sources, probing into the affairs of the Free Cities.


    Vntis, the oldest of the Free Cities, held on to many Valyrian traditions. Its political system, a remnant of the Freehold era, saw three rulers elected annually from the native Tiger and Elephant parties. The Tigers, aristocrats and warriors, believed in conquest by force, while the Elephants, merchants and moneylenders, favored trade.


    During Vntis''sst invasion of the Triarchy, Aegon the Conqueror had intervened, defeating them with Balerion the ck Dread. Since then, the Tiger Party had waned, electing only one consul to the Elephants'' two. However, with the Triarchy weakened from their loss in the Stepstones, Vntis now saw an opportunity.


    Daemon took a sip of wine, impressed by his nephew''s knowledge. "Vntis is stagnant. Without change, it''s bound to decline."


    "So the Tiger Party is actually considering war?" Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed.


    He had no love for the Triarchy and saw potential in the turmoil. The Free Cities fighting among themselves could be beneficial.


    "I''m not sure," Daemon admitted. "Vntis has always spurned the Targaryens."


    He grinned, "If you''re really interested, you should see for yourself."


    "Go to Vntis..." Rhaegar mused. He had rarely ventured into Essos, having only visited Braavos and Pentos. His brief foray into the Triarchy had been hasty, yielding little more than some money and ves.


    Now, however, he found himself intrigued.


    Rhaenyra leaned forward and whispered, "Do you want to leave?"


    Rhaegar blinked and made no immediate reply.


    "Vntis is near ver''s Bay and the ruins of Valyria - a free city full of very," Rhaenyra continued, her eyes bright with excitement. She had never been to Vntis and hoped to entice Rhaegar into the adventure.


    Sensing her anticipation, Rhaegar squeezed her hand and considered his next move. After a moment, he turned to Daemon and said, "Uncle, the Dornishmen are active on the border. The kingdom cannot afford to fight across the sea."


    He had considered provoking Vntis into conflict with the Triarchy, remembering Daemon''s past ambitions in the Stepstones. A thought urred to him: perhaps Daemon could use this situation to gain military power over the inds.


    Daemon, though proud and self-satisfied, had always cared for his family. In his youth, he had coveted the Iron Throne. Now, in middle age, with a wife and children, his ambitions had shifted to territorial control.


    Rhaegar understood Daemon''s psychology but did not share his approach. Targaryen control of Westeros was not yet absolute. The North wasrgely autonomous, the West faced raids from the Iron Inds, and the Rivends and the Reach had their own session issues. In addition, Prince Qoren of Dorne was too ambitious.


    Rhaegar believed it was premature to extend their reach across the Narrow Sea. Overreaching could destabilize the kingdom and erode public support.


    Daemon''s expression darkened as he realized that his nephew had partially revealed his intentions. Without giving him a chance to respond, Rhaegar stood and pushed back his chair. "I''ve eaten enough. I''m going to rest."


    Rhaenyra, momentarily stunned, smiled apologetically at her hosts before rising to follow him. The atmosphere around the table cooled noticeably.


    Aegon, gritting his teeth, angrily sliced the roasted meat on his te, but no one paid him any attention.


    Corlys, his face dark and pensive, exchanged a nce with Daemon. Daemon, unperturbed by the revtion of his ns, poured himself another ss of wine.


    Laena lowered her head and rubbed her belly, her eyes filled with worry.


    ...


    As the funeral ended, the guests began to disperse and return to their homes.


    "Roar..."


    Vhagar and Meleys soared into the sky, heading for Driftmark.


    In the front yard of Storm''s End, Cannibal and Syrax stood a short distance apart. Rhaegar and Rhaenyra faced each other in the empty space.


    Rhaenyra''s expression was cold and silent.


    Rhaegar sighed, breaking the silence. "Rhaenyra, you should be overseeing Aegon and the others on their safe return to King''s Landing. That''s more important than following me."


    "Aegon is old enough to look after his brothers and sisters," Rhaenyra retorted, her voice icy. She was furious that Rhaegar had refused her request to apany him. She longed to explore the free cities with him, not be left behind.


    Rhaegar tried to exin. "You know Alicent''s temper. Besides, my ns go beyond just visiting Vntis, and there are dangers involved."


    He had had a dream the night before - a vision of a smoky sea with an inaudible voice echoing through it. From the map, it resembled the Smoking Sea. He wanted to fly on Cannibal and see what had be of the Targaryen homnd.


    "Rhaegar, do you think I''m a burden?" Rhaenyra''s frustration was obvious.


    "No! You know that''s not what I mean," Rhaegar replied, smiling bitterly as he embraced her. He remembered how fierce she could be, even as a teenager.


    "Just this once, Rhaegar," Rhaenyra pleaded, her serious demeanor betraying her desperation. She had been trying to convince him for days, feeling unappreciated by his constant refusals.


    "I''ll be back soon," Rhaegar assured her quietly.


    Rhaenyra stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "I''ll be waiting for you on Dragonstone Ind. Remember to miss me."


    "Always," Rhaegar promised, tightening his embrace before turning to Aegon and Hena with a few final words.


    With Rhaenyra''s reluctant gaze following him, Rhaegar mounted Cannibal and flew off into the distance.


    ...


    King''s Landing


    Viserys sat on the Iron Throne and listened to the northern envoy''s report.


    "Your Grace, I appreciate the invitation to the tournament, but I must inform you that Rickon Stark has passed away. Consequently, neither I nor any representative from the North can attend," said Roderick Dustin, Lord of Barrowton, a strong old man with a grim expression.


    Viserys frowned, his face reflecting sorrow. "Lord Rickon''s passing grieves me deeply, just as Lord Bormund''s did. Losing two guardian lords in such a short time is a heavy blow."


    After a moment of reflection, Viserys asked, "Who holds power at Winterfell now?"


    Roderick answered directly, "Before his death, Lord Rickon passed the title to his only son, Cregan Stark. However, young Cregan is still a minor, so his uncle, Bennard Stark, is overseeing Winterfell and mentoring the new lord."


    "A young heir," Viserys sighed. "I hope both Bennard and Cregan will be able to attend the tournament. I regret that I cannot travel to the North in person to offer my condolences."


    Roderick nodded. "I will convey Your Grace''s sentiments to Winterfell."


    With the report concluded, Lord Dustin took his leave.


    Viserys, weary and burdened by the Seven Kingdoms'' troubles, lost focus for a moment. His left hand absentmindedly touched the Iron Throne''s armrest.


    He had forgotten the throne''s treacherous design, with its sharp des andck of proper backrest or armrest.


    A sudden pain jolted him back to reality as a deep cut appeared on his left hand, blood flowing freely.


    "Ah! Damn it," he cursed, wincing. The sharp pain brought him fully awake. He quickly shook off his injured hand and stepped down from the Iron Throne, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

 Chapter 269: First Visit to Volantis

    Chapter 269: First Visit to Vntis


    Leaving the throne room, the servants quickly summoned Grand Maester Mellos.


    In the king''s chambers, Maester Mellos arrived with a satchel and several young auxiliary maesters. Viserys leaned back on a bench, one hand covering his forehead, the other resting on the round table for the maester to examine.


    "Your Grace, the wound is deep this time," Mellos said, his old face creased with concern as he carefully inspected the cut and prepared medicine to clean it.


    Viserys endured the pain and sighed, "Thank you, Grand Maester."


    Despite his words, he was troubled inside. Not having been cut by the Iron Throne for some time had made himcent, and now this open wound was a stark reminder of his vulnerability. He feared it would be conspicuous to the courtiers, adding to his burdens.


    With few words, Mellos dried the blood and applied crushed herbs to the wound.


    "Grand Maester, the bandages you requested," an assistant said, handing him a roll of sterilized bandages.


    Mellos nced at the young man and silently began to bind the king''s hand. The attendant, a dark-skinned young man with short stubble and a gray robe, watched intently.


    As the bandage was being applied, the attendant couldn''t help but suggest, "This herb may not be effective for His Grace. I have a new idea-""Silence, Orwyle!" Mellos scolded, his eyes shing a warning.


    The young man, Orwyle, quickly bowed his head and fell silent.


    "Your Grace, avoid getting the wound wet and abstain from greasy or spicy foods," Mellos advised, packing up his supplies and leading his assistants out of the room.


    Viserys forced a smile, trying to hide his irritation as the door closed, leaving the room in silence.


    Outside the chambers, Ser Erryk, d in silver armor and white robes, stood guard. After Cole''s departure, he had been appointed Commander of the Kingsguard, charged with the King''s personal security.


    Suddenly, a choking cough erupted from the chambers, the sound harsh and desperate.


    Erryk''s face darkened with worry. The king''s health was failing, and he often found it difficult to sleep without the aid of wine.


    The coughing subsided after a while. Viserys'' irritated voice broke the silence, "Erryk, get me some wine. My chest is suffocating!"


    "Yes, Your Grace!" Erryk replied, bowing before finding a servant to carry out the order.


    ...


    The Summer Sea


    The Summer Sea, a vast ocean south of Dorne, stretches eastward to the southern coast of Essos and the northern coast of Sothoryos. The Stepstones mark the boundary between the Narrow Sea and the Summer Sea.


    On the undting sea, beneath a clear sky, a warm breeze blew gently. High above the clouds, a colossal dragon as ck as charcoal streaked by like a dark meteor. After a day''s flight, the Cannibal crossed the scattered isles of the Stepstones and officially entered the Summer Sea.


    "Cannibal, fly southeast,"manded a firm voice.


    Rhaegar reclined on the broad spine of the Cannibal, d in a ck robe, his eyes half-closed as he basked in the sunlight. Compared to the still-chilly eastern part of Westeros, the tropical climate of the Summer Sea was a wee change, warm and pleasant.


    The sunlight bathed his bare skin, spreading warmth throughout his body. The air was warm and humid, but not oppressively so. Thisfortable environment allowed Rhaegar, who hadn''t rxed in a long time, to shed his usual tension and stretch out contentedly.


    "Roar..."


    Sensing its rider''s joy, the Cannibal let out a low growl and slowed its pace. Man and dragon soared through the sky, savoring the fresh breeze and the rare moment of leisure.


    A smile yed at the corners of Rhaegar''s mouth as he reminisced about the freedom of dragon riding in his youth. It had been far too long since he had enjoyed such peace.


    The Cannibal, with its dark wings and green eyes, surveyed the distantnd of Essos, flying in the correct direction with ease. Having roamed several continents during its century-long life, the dragon knew these waters well.


    Time passed quietly. As the sun rose to its zenith, the temperature of the Summer Sea increased, and the air became hot. The Cannibal crossed the sea and flew over a barren coast, entering thend of Essos.


    "Quick, grab the cart! We need to get the goods to Vntis by nightfall..."


    "The wheels are stuck! Push harder..."


    From the sky, Rhaegar heard voices speaking in Valyrian. Stirring from his half-sleep, he opened his eyes and surveyed the scene below. A bustling towny beneath him, with many carriages moving in and out through towering white walls.


    The sounds he heard came from a small caravan of traders traveling south along the river. The men were dressed in a variety of garb, shielding themselves from the burning sun as they pushed a muddy cart.


    "Push, you ves!"


    A fat merchant, decked out in gold and silver, cursed and waved his whip at the struggling crowd.


    From the snippets of conversation, it was clear that the merchants were headed for Vntis. Rhaegar watched the city and the wide, swiftly moving river beside it, recognizing the ce as Volon Therys, a city in the interior of Vntis. The river was the famed Rhoyne.


    Following the Rhoyne south would lead to Vntis. Realizing this, Rhaegar understood that the Cannibal had brought him to Essos.


    "Cannibal, fly south and find a ce tond," he instructed, forming a n.


    He had two main goals for his visit to Vntis. First, to contact the Triarchs of the Tiger and Elephant Parties and understand their movements. Second, to negotiate a diplomatic agreement to ease tensions with the Free Cities.


    Daemon had warned that the people of Vntis were likely to reject the Targaryens. Rhaegar nned to keep a low profile, avoiding undue attention with the Cannibal, and conceal his visit to Vntis to avoid provoking the Triarchy. These were standard diplomatic tactics, and he expected nothing less.


    ...


    It was dusk. A caravan of merchants carrying food entered the western part of Vntis. At the head of the caravan walked a tall, silver-haired young man in ck robes. This was Rhaegar, who had separated from the Cannibal and used the caravan as a guide to enter the city-state.


    "So this is Vntis," Rhaegar muttered, disappointment evident in his voice. The crowded harbor assaulted his senses with the pungent stench of rotting fish, flowers, feces, and decay. It was no better than King''s Landing before the street reform program.


    He mingled with the crowd, listening to the vendors'' shouts along the filthy streets, wandering aimlessly. Vntis, once an outpost of the Freehold, bore the marks of its Dragonlord heritage. The city, situated at the mouth of the Rhoyne River, was divided into two districts by the fast-flowing waters.


    Rhaegar found himself in the western district, a ce of squalor. Everywhere he looked, there were signs of poverty��feces, urine, garbage, beggars. The harbor was teeming with ships from across the world, and the mor of sailors and porters filled the air.


    He soon learned that the western side was home to mercenaries, foreigners, ves, andmoners, and thatw and order was abysmal. "Out of the way, out of the way, the Tiger Cloak Army is patrolling, everyone out of the way!" a loud voice suddenly shouted. The already chaotic street became frenzied as ves and civilians scurried to the corners.


    Rhaegar blended into the crowd, using his height to peer over their heads. Amon city guard marched through the street, brandishing short clubs and boasting loudly. Each guard bore a tiger tattoo on his cheek, the likely origin of their name, the Tiger Army.


    Vntis was a city rich in tattoo culture. High officials, merchants,moners, and ves all had tattoos on their faces and bodies. High-ranking individuals had tattoos that symbolized their aplishments and strength, while ves were marked to indicate their roles, branding them with a lifetime of shame.


    Daemon had often spoken of the harsh life of ves in Vntis. From what Rhaegar observed, ves far outnumbered free citizens in the city.


    "I need to find a ce to stay before nightfall," Rhaegar thought, shaking off his thoughts. He made his way to the eastern district, guided by a passerby. The eastern district was home to old nobles, warriors, and wealthy merchants.


    The walk felt too slow, and he feared he wouldn''t make it in time. Just then, he saw something promising ahead.


    Half an hourter, a carriage drawn by dwarf elephants made its way through the Western District and arrived at a long, wide bridge. The bridge spanned the fast-flowing River Rhoyne, supported by massive pirs, and stretched out as t as a continent.


    At the entrance was an arch of ck boulders decorated with monstrous designs-dragons, lion- and scorpion-tailed beasts, sphinxes, and other fantastic creatures.


    The dwarven elephant caravan paid the toll, and a ve with wheel tattoos on his head led the elephants onto the mighty bridge. Rhaegar poked his head out of the curtain, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.


    The bridge, constructed by the Valyrian consuls centuries ago, connected the Old Town and the West Town. Seeing this impressive structure for the first time, Rhaegar was captivated by its scale. The bridge was wide enough for two carriages to pass each otherfortably.


    "It''s not as grand as Harrenhal, but it''s one of the Nine Wonders of the World," Rhaegar mused, his tone serious. Comparing it to his own giant castle, he found himself pondering the significance of the long bridge.


    Westeros boasted many legendary structures: House Arryn''s Eyrie, House Baratheon''s Storm''s End, House Lannister''s Casterly Rock, and the Great Wall that had stood for thousands of years, protecting the realm from the cold threats of the north.


    Each of these wonders, Rhaegar thought, was more majestic than this long bridge.

 Chapter 270: Descendants of Valyria

    Chapter 270: Descendants of Valyria


    The sun was setting.


    The caravan of dwarf elephants crossed the long bridge and arrived in the eastern part of the city, where the environment markedly improved.


    The carriage ve bowed humbly, his voice rough, "My lord, there''s a ck wall ahead. I can''t go any further."


    "Understood," Rhaegar replied. He lifted the curtain and stepped down from the carriage, casually tossing two gold dragons to the ve.


    "Thank you, my lord," the ve said, bowing even lower as he hastily epted the coins.


    Westeros and Vntis had different coinage systems. Westeros used gold dragons, silver stags, copper stars, and copper pennies, while Vntis minted gold coins with engraved images and epted coins from variousnds.


    As Rhaegar walked forward, he saw by the moonlight that the area was dotted with flower gardens, statues, and fountains. Most of these fountains, however, were dry or filled with stagnant water, and the air still carried a nauseating odor.


    It was gettingte. Rhaegar decided not to rush to find the city Triarchs; securing a ce to stay first was the best course of action.


    Soon, he spotted a towering building surrounded by parked carriages. It was a four-story structure made of stone, a real monstrosity."The Merchant''s House," Rhaegar read aloud, grinning. "Found a ce to stay."


    ...


    The next day, within the ck walls of the east city district, the streets were neat and orderly. Wealthy residents reclined on sedan chairs carried by ves, apanied by dainty ve girls.


    Everything exuded a sense of natural corruption.


    At the entrance of the Tiger Party''s Residence, a ck-robed figure stood and knocked on the closed door. A ve hurriedly opened it and respectfully weed the visitor inside.


    The mansion''s interior boasted a three-story pavilion with carved beams and intricate paintings. Rhaegar sat on a velvet stool, indifferently observing female ves ying in the courtyard fountain.


    Before long, a tall, robust man entered the pavilion, nked by two ve girls.


    "Hahaha, wee, Prince of House Targaryen! It is truly an honor to have you in my humble abode!" the man eximed, arms spread wide.


    Rhaegar turned and replied politely, "Lord Mquo, please forgive my unannounced visit."


    Maintaining his noble demeanor, Rhaegar exuded elegance and grace.


    Mquo Maegyr, with his rough face and bushy beard, responded boldly, "I was a good friend of your uncle. You, of the great Dragonlord bloodline, are always wee here."


    As a member of Vntis''s old nobility, Mquo believed deeply in the importance of bloodlines. Most Vntenes prided themselves on their Valyrian descent. The Targaryens, as thest Dragonlord family, held an undisputed noble lineage.


    After exchanging pleasantries, Rhaegar got to the point, inquiring about the Tiger Party''s views on the Triarchy and their rtionship with Daemon.


    Mquo did not mince words. He exined that the Triarchy was in a weakened state, and the long-suppressed old aristocracy of Vntis saw an opportunity to reassert themselves. However, the Tiger Party was not the sole ruling faction. The Elephant Party, consisting of merchants and moneylenders, showed no interest in war. The struggle for power between the two parties had already resulted in casualties.


    Mquo openly admitted his correspondence with Daemon. Daemon had established a friendship with Mquo and the Tiger Party, promising to suppress the Triarchy''s trade routes.


    Even without explicit details, Rhaegar understood the implications. If the Tiger Party gained the upper hand, they would likely form a stronger alliance with Daemon.


    After a lengthy discussion, Mquo ordered a sumptuous meal. Rhaegar epted the invitation, and the two dined together, solidifying their newfound friendship.


    As the meal ended, Mquo''s eyes gleamed with purpose. "Prince, why not stay at my residence for a while? I will treat you with the utmost courtesy."


    Rhaegar''s reputation, known throughout the Nine Free Trade City-States, carried the title of the Maker of Ruins. Recognizing Rhaegar as a war-advocating Dragonlord like Daemon, Mquo saw an opportunity to gain the upper hand against the Elephants with Targaryen support.


    Seeing through Mquo''s intentions, Rhaegar politely declined. "No, I must visit the other two cities and experience more of Vntis."


    "Prince, the members of the Elephant Party are stubborn and might offend you," Mquo cautioned. "I have the most beautiful, voluptuous ve girls. Stay and enjoy theirpany."


    "My journey is not yet over, and I must respectfully decline your offer," Rhaegar replied, rising to leave. He was uninterested in the ve girls, preferring to explore Vntis and absorb its unique customs.


    ...


    After leaving the mansion, Rhaegar pulled up his hood and stepped into the bustling streets. In that moment, he understood Daemon''s wanderlust. The feeling of being alone was invigorating.


    He wandered the crowded streets, the passersby indifferent to his presence. Finding the residence of the ruler of the Elephant Party proved to be a challenge, as they were even more xenophobic than the hospitable Tiger Party.


    Inspired by a beggar, Rhaegar thought of a ce where information would be abundant��the Long Bridge. Lined with countless restaurants, brothels, and shops, it was the best ce to gather news.


    "I missed itst night, so I''ll make up for it today," he murmured, hurrying towards the bridge.


    The ck wall that separated the rich and poor in the East City District loomed ahead. Rhaegar easily passed through the massive barrier, built from ck dragonstone, and stepped onto the Long Bridge. The environment shifted dramatically��from the cold indifference of the affluent area to the vibrant hustle and bustle of the marketce.


    Without the elephant cart, Rhaegar moved between the stores on either side of the bridge, the air filled with noise. He noticed atrine cleaner with a fly tattoo on his face, a cksmith with a hammer tattoo. They were all ves, closely monitored by their masters,boring tirelessly.


    "O Lord! Give us light!" a loud woman''s voice suddenly rang out, reciting a prayer. More voices joined in, men and women repeating the chant.


    "For the night is dark and full of terrors."


    Intrigued, Rhaegar followed the sound to an open corner. A striking woman in red robes stood on a raised tform of hay bales, passionately preaching to a group of ragged, cored ves. They listened intently, their eyes filled with hope.


    Rhaegar watched the scene, drawn to the Red Woman''s presence. He had encountered followers of the Lord of Light before, including two red-robed women he had killed. Though once blessed by the Lord of Light, those encounters had soured his perception of the deity, whom he now suspected to be an evil god with malevolent followers.


    "The God of Light listens to your prayers, regardless of who you are..." the Red Woman continued, her voice stirring the ves'' spirits.


    Bored, Rhaegar turned away. The faith of the Lord of Light was widespread in Essos, and Vntis housed thergest temple of R''hllor, beloved by themoners and ves. The rich and powerful, however, scorned and dismissed it.


    As Rhaegar walked, the tiles of the brothel overhead blocked the sunlight, narrowing the path.


    "Quickly! Grab that ve girl, don''t let her get away!"


    "Damn it, I''ll sell her to the lowest brothel..."


    Suddenly, a burst of yelling and cursing erupted nearby. Rhaegar pulled back his hood and lowered his eyes, watching themotion.


    On the crowded street, a passerby was knocked over in the chaos, and a woman with disheveled hair darted out. Her face was obscured, but her skin was strikingly white, almost translucent like pure milk pudding. The most eye-catching feature was her long, dirty hair��silver-gold, a color Rhaegar knew well.


    "Valyrian descendant," he murmured, observing like a disinterested passerby.


    He didn''t intervene. Vntis, the first colony of the Freehold, had spread Valyrian blood for centuries. Just moments ago, he had seen a whore with silvery blonde curls among the ves.


    "Stop her, she''s a runaway!" The pursuing ve trader yelled, closing in on the woman.


    The white-skinned woman struggled to escape, darting past Rhaegar and carrying a faint, not unpleasant breeze. This breeze lifted Rhaegar''s hood, revealing his own prominent silver-blonde hair.


    The fleeing woman nced back and saw Rhaegar. She froze, tripping and falling heavily onto the muddy bridge.


    The ve trader caught up, punching and kicking her, pulling her cor, and dragging her like a dead dog. Hearing her screams, Rhaegar was about to leave, uninterested in the spectacle.


    "My lord, help me, please!" The woman''s clear, miserable cry rang out.


    Rhaegar ignored it, silently putting on his hood.


    But the woman kept struggling. She bit the ve trader''s hand and broke free, flinging herself at Rhaegar''s feet in a panic. "My lord, please help me," she begged.


    Surprised, Rhaegar looked down at her. "Why should I help you?"


    His right hand, wearing a spatial bracelet, retracted into his ck robes, though he felt inclined to assist.


    The woman tugged at his trouser leg, panic-stricken. She pushed back her hair, revealing a beautiful face, and spoke quickly. "My name is Dae, and you are a Targaryen descendant. Please help me for the sake of the name."


    "Dae?" Rhaegar''s eyes widened slightly, his mind reeling. Dae was his grandmother''s name��Dae Targaryen, the eighth child and fourth daughter of his great-grandfather, Jaehaerys the First.


    "Get out of the way, boy!" Several ve traders surrounded them, grimacing.


    One of them, a sharp-tongued man, pointed at Dae and said coldly, "She''s a ve girl from the brothel, and she cost us a hundred gold coins."

 Chapter 271: A Fallen Targaryen

    Chapter 271: A Fallen Targaryen


    "Everyone, calm down," Rhaegarmanded, his voice steady and authoritative.


    He removed his hood, revealing a handsome face and aposed demeanor. The ve traders, recognizing his Valyrian features and noble bearing, hesitated and did not dare approach.


    "Stay quiet and let me handle this," Rhaegar continued, his tone brooking no argument.


    The ves exchanged nces, then stepped back, forming a circle around the two figures at the center. They assumed this man must be wealthy and might buy the ve girl.


    Rhaegar took a moment to examine Dae, who was kneeling at his feet. Her slightly curly hair, bright white skin, and delicate figure evoked a protective instinct in him. She wore only two rags to cover herself, highlighting her vulnerability.


    Her face, beautiful and reminiscent of Rhaenyra''s, captivated him. The tear-shaped tattoos on her cheeks marked her as a prostitute, and Rhaegar frowned in displeasure.


    "Who gave you that name, and how do you know who I am?" he demanded.


    Dae''s name was notmon, especially among Valyrians. It was a variation of an ancient Targaryen name, indicating she knew more than a typical prostitute should.


    "My lord, my namees from my mother, and many of my kin have shared it," Dae replied, her eyes tearful. She knew the young man before her was her only hope.


    She pointed to a button on Rhaegar''s ck robe, trembling as she spoke, "On your button, there''s the symbol of the three-headed red dragon."


    Rhaegar loosened his cor and looked down, seeing the Targaryen emblem. His distinctive clothing had given him away.


    Realizing there was more to Dae than met the eye, Rhaegar crouched down, looked directly into her blue eyes, and repeated his question, "Why should I help you?"


    Dae''s white face was bruised, and herrge eyes showed unease. She trembled as she answered, "I may share the same blood as you."


    She retracted her neck, anticipating scolding or a beating. Her status was too low to im kinship with any lord.


    Rhaegar was taken aback, his eyes clouding over in thought. After a moment of silence, he stood up and pulled a bulging bag of money from his sleeve.


    The ve traders caught it eagerly, their eyes widening at the sight of the gleaming gold coins inside.


    "Take the money and leave!" Rhaegar ordered, his voice firm.


    Whether Dae''s im was true or not, her origin couldn''t be discussed in public. She had asked for his help, and he wouldn''t let the ve traders take her.


    One of the traders bit a gold coin to confirm its authenticity, then smiled obsequiously. "She''s yours, my lord."


    Securing the money bag, he scanned the area and quickly departed. In a free-trade city-state, money was paramount.


    Rhaegar ignored him and took Dae''s hand from her with a quick stride. "Come with me!" he ordered coldly.


    "Yes, my lord," Dae replied overjoyed. She straightened the rags that covered her and followed him closely.


    ...


    Rhaegar found a tavern with decent surroundings and chose a secluded corner by the window. Draping a cloak over Dae, he asked inly, "Whose bastard daughter are you?"


    Dae, who appeared to be around his age, pulled the cloak tightly around her small frame. She lowered her head and replied timidly, "I am no one''s bastard daughter. My mother was a whore and didn''t know who my father was."


    "Your bloodes from your mother?" Rhaegar inquired, a hint of curiosity in his voice.


    Dae nodded, her voice barely audible. "Yes, my bloodes from my mother, and her blood came from my grandmother."


    "Your grandmother?" Rhaegar echoed, intrigued and a bit incredulous. It was rare for Targaryen traits to persist so strongly through the generations, especially in someone of Dae''s background.


    Dae seemed to shrink further into herself, trembling as she continued. "You might have heard of my grandmother. Her name was Saera..." She hesitated before whispering the rest of the name, "Saera Targaryen."


    ...


    That night, Rhaegar crossed the Long Bridge and found himself amidst the bustling brothels of the east side, stopping in front of arge establishment with a constant flow of customers.


    "Is this the ce?" Rhaegar asked, pointing at the brothel.


    Dae, d in ck robes with her long silver-blonde hair hidden under a hood, nodded with certainty. "This is it. I grew up here. I wouldn''t mistake it."


    "Lead the way," Rhaegar instructed, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions as he followed her into the brothel.


    The brothel was a sprawling, three-story building adorned with seductive oil paintings and carvings. The pungent smell of perfume hit Rhaegar as soon as they entered, mingling with the sight of prostitutes and their eager clients. Lustful noises echoed from the surrounding rooms.


    Dae led the way, and though the prostitutes nced at her in surprise, they didn''t approach her. Rhaegar followed her to the third floor, where the sounds of lust gave way to the sounds of music.


    As they moved down the corridor, a door opened, and a middle-aged man with silver-blonde hair stepped out. Dae froze at the sight of him, halting in her tracks.


    The man approached them, scrutinizing Dae before speaking in a mocking tone. "I heard someone report you were back. Quite surprising."


    His gaze shifted to Rhaegar. "Kid, you bought Dae?"


    Rhaegar lifted his head, removing his hood to reveal his face. "I''m looking for a woman named Saera. I heard she was here."


    "Of course she''s here. She''s my mother and the madam of this brothel," the middle-aged man replied, noticing Rhaegar''s long silver-gold hair and purple eyes.


    "Take me to her," Rhaegar''s voice turned cold, his patience waning.


    "She hasn''t taken clients in a long time, even if you are young and handsome," the man refused, his tone firm.


    "Uncle, my lord is from Westeros," Dae interjected, her voice trembling.


    The man''s face changed slightly, the mention of Westeros stirring memories of his travels across the ocean. He took a serious look at Rhaegar, quickly piecing things together.


    Pure Valyrian descent, from Westeros... he must be a member of that family.


    Flustered, the man hurriedly said, "Please,e with me. Mother is resting in her room."


    He turned and walked briskly down the corridor. Rhaegar, deepening his breath, followed closely behind.


    Entering the room, Rhaegar noticed the white walls adorned with various ornaments. A velvet bed, surrounded by a circle of light gauze, was ced by the window. On either side of the bed knelt two young male ves, naked and toned.


    "Geddel, who is it?" azy woman''s voice called out from behind the veil, revealing a figure lying on the bed.


    "Mother, a man with dragon blood is here," the middle-aged man, Geddel, announced hesitantly from the doorway.


    "Dragon blood? Targaryen!" the woman''s voice rose abruptly as she sat up from her bed, pulling back the curtains from the inside to reveal her face.


    Rhaegar remained silent, his gaze fixed on her.


    Half-sitting on the bed was a woman in her forties or fifties, with long silver-gold hair and purple eyes. Her skin was very white, and she had taken good care of herself, still showing traces of the beauty she once possessed.


    The woman''s expression was a mix of disgust, nostalgia, and indifference as she noticed the young man in the room.


    After a moment of silence, she pulled a thin quilt over her bare thighs and asked tly, "Whose child are you?"


    "If I remember correctly, there were only two male heirs left in Targaryen, Viserys and Daemon. The boy in front of me must be the heir of one of them," she mused.


    "My father was Viserys, King on the Iron Throne," Rhaegar responded, his heart twisting. "My name is Rhaegar, Aunt Saera."


    Yes, the brothel madam before him was none other than his great-aunt, Saera. A pure-blooded Targaryen. Saera, the ninth child and fifth daughter of his great-grandfather, Jaehaerys the First.


    Rhaegar knew well the history of his great-grandfather''s twelve children, and Saera was the one who had angered and broken his heart the most.


    Saera had been a stubborn and rebellious child, often ying pranks on her siblings and courtiers. She was ostracized by her sisters, including Rhaegar''s grandmother, Alyssa, and his great-aunt, Dae.


    As an adult, Saera surrounded herself with multiple female and malepanions, engaging in scandalous rtionships. She even lost her virginity to one of her three malepanions and had rtionships with all three.


    When the truth was revealed, Jaehaerys imprisoned herpanions and even sentenced one to death in a trial bybat. In his anger, Jaehaerys banished Saera to Oldtown, cing her under the care of her sister, Septa Maegelle.


    After enduring a series of strict punishments, Saera could no longer stand the nuns'' beatings and ran away. She found a ship in Oldtown and sailed to Lys, where she worked in a brothel, posing as a young girl new to the trade for the pleasure of clients.


    It took half a year for the news to reach King''s Landing. Jaehaerys was furious and no longer recognized her as his daughter, leading to a severe quarrel with Queen Alysanne.


    From that point on, Saera became a true whore. A few years before 99 AC, she left Lys and came to Vntis, where she opened her own brothel.


    During the Great Council of 101 AC, Jaehaerys, who had lost his heirs, sent for his remaining daughter to be brought back to King''s Landing. Saera refused, stating that she had her own kingdom in Vntis and did not need the Iron Throne.


    She had three bastards from different fathers, all of whom she sent to Westeros to participate in the Great Council. Naturally, none of them were chosen; no one would fancy a bastard born of a whore.


    Saera straightened her silver hair, looking a little frazzled, and asked irritably, "Why did youe to see me?"


    It had been many years since she had contacted any of her rtives. Seeing Rhaegar brought back memories of the past.

 Chapter 272: Unknown Curse

    Chapter 272: Unknown Curse


    Facing Saera''s cold attitude, Rhaegar smiled nomittally, his hesitation vanishing. Her curt words confirmed the rumors from Westeros: his aunt indeed harbored little affection for her family.


    Without feeling awkward, Rhaegar said calmly, "As the only surviving heir of our great-grandfather, it''s my duty to visit you."


    Regardless of her demeanor, Saera was still his aunt. Knowing she was in Vntis, he feltpelled to meet her.


    "What do I have worth seeing? A disgrace that brings shame to the family," Saera retorted, her face alternating between green and white as she suddenly coughed heavily.


    One of the male ves kneeling beside her bed quickly stood up, fetched a bottle of wine from the bedside table, and poured it, presenting it respectfully.


    "Get out."


    Saera took the wine, downed a mouthful, and waved the ves away in disgust. Rhaegar watched impassively, stepping aside to clear the doorway.


    Geddel, Saera��s son, whispered, "Mother is getting old; her health isn��t what it used to be."


    Rhaegar remained indifferent. At 54, Saera was indeed aging.


    With a sigh, Rhaegar stepped forward, pulled a chair, and sat down. He voiced the question in his mind, "Aunt, why didn��t you return to Westeros?"


    Saera had many chances to go back, but she chose not to.


    "I��ve made a life here in Vntis," Saera said, forcing herself to stop coughing. "King''s Landing is a cesspool of rats; the thought of returning there gives me nightmares."


    Rhaegar frowned, sensing an underlying bitterness. Deliberately, he added, "Great-grandfather cursed you, but he always longed for you."


    "My stepmother, Alicent Hightower, tended to him in his final days," Rhaegar continued. "He chose her because he often mistook her for you."


    He watched as Saera''s expression shifted. "When he was dying, he held Alicent''s hand, calling out your name, believing you had returned to see him onest time."


    Rhaegar wasn��t lying; it was documented in the family history. Alicent had shared these stories during his childhood. He spoke with such sincerity that even a hardened heart might be moved.


    As expected, Saera''s face softened, and her breathing grewbored.


    Rhaegar pressed on, "You are the oldest surviving Targaryen. Don��t you want to return to the family?"


    "Don''t talk nonsense. If I wanted to go back, I would have done so long ago," Saera replied, her voice low, eyes wrinkling deeper with nostalgia. "Out of all my siblings, only the most insufferable two outlived Father."


    "Great-grandfather was known as a wise and benevolent king, ruling during a time of peace," Rhaegar said, spreading his hands in a gesture of openness.


    When considering the continents of Westeros and Essos, it''s evident that life expectancy wasn''t particrly high. His great-grandfather''s 69-year life span had spanned two generations.


    Saera nced at Rhaegar and murmured, "Kid, don''t you think it''s strange?"


    Rhaegar''s curiosity was piqued, and his eyes showed a hint of intrigue. It was clear that Saera''s earlier words concealed a hidden truth.


    Saera looked despondent, her voice distant. "Targaryens originate from mes, and Westeros is too cold."


    "Auntie, can you be more specific?" Rhaegar asked, trying to piece together her cryptic statement.


    "Stupid!" Saera snapped, her frustration evident. "Thend of Westeros does not wee Targaryens. It''s full of lurking predators."


    Rhaegar was taken aback by her bluntness, his eyes widening. "Do you mean to say someone murdered great-grandfather''s children?"


    His great-grandfather had thirteen children. Most of them died prematurely or under mysterious circumstances, leaving room for spection.


    Saera shook her head, her voice dry. "I don''t know for sure. There''s no solid proof, just suspicion."


    "Then why did you..." Rhaegar trailed off, thinking of her years of indulgence in Lys and Vntis.


    "I simply didn''t want to be under my father''s control. He was too overbearing, never valuing me as a daughter," Saera admitted, her resentment clear. "King''s Landing is a nest of rats, unfit for a true dragon."


    Rhaegar remained silent, absorbing her words.


    With her defenses lowered, Saera continued, her voiceced with bitterness. "My sisters died in childbirth, fell from horses, drowned themselves..."


    She listed off their fates, each one a grim tale. "And then there were Aemon and Baelon, father''s favored heirs, both great dragon riders."


    "And what happened to them? They all died, none of them ever sitting on the Iron Throne."


    Rhaegar listened intently, his mind racing. Saera''s words revealed that, despite her distance, she had kept close tabs on the family.


    Rhaegar''s grandmother, Alyssa, died in childbirth, and his great-aunt Dae sumbed to puerperal fever. His other great-aunt Maegelle contracted greyscale while caring for infected children.


    Another great-aunt, Viserra, died after trying to seduce their grandfather Baelon to be queen, but Baelon sent the drunk girl away when he arrived, not long after the incident with Baelon, as arrangements were being made for Viserra''s departure to White Harbor, Viserra traded clothes with one of her maids and escaped her guards.


    She slipped from the Red Keep for "onest night ofughter" with herpanions, at the foot of Aegon''s High Hill, Viserra''s palfrey collided with the mare of one of herpanions. Viserra was thrown from her saddle into a wall, and she died of a broken neck at the age of fifteen.


    There''s also the youngest, Princess Gael Targaryen was the thirteenth andst child of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen and Queen Alysanne Targaryen, Gael had been seduced and impregnated by a traveling singer, right after that, Gael had given birth to a stillborn son, and overwhelmed by her grief, she had walked into ckwater Bay and drowned.


    Saera''s recounting left Rhaegar with a chilling realization. His great-grandfather''s children had met untimely ends: Aemon assassinated, Baelon suspected of being poisoned, and three more dying in infancy. Only Saera and Vaegon, "the Dragonless," survived.


    Rhaegar shuddered, understanding the weight of Saera''s words: "the most repulsive" had outlived their great-grandfather. If there was indeed a conspiracy, Saera had been safer far from Westeros.


    Vaegon, a renowned maester who distanced himself from the family, died of natural causes a year after their great-grandfather. Saera continued to mutter, "My brother, a cold-hearted man who disliked his sister and dragons, had to be a maester."


    Rhaegar sat in silence, his mind racing with the implications of Saera''s revtions.


    Vaegon Targaryen, the only surviving male heir of his great-grandfather.


    He had refused to marry his sister Dae, who was intended for him, and disliked Saera, who was closer in age, ultimately leaving for the Citadel.


    "He died about a decade ago, I think. I haven''t kept up with Westeros for a while," Saera muttered, scratching her silver hair irritably. She started coughing again but continued, "We exchanged letters after the 101st Assembly. He was bedridden at the time, his health was poor."


    "Don''t waste time on me. Go to the Citadel and check out Vaegon''s research," she added, her voice strained.


    Rhaegar blinked, doubt creeping into his mind. "Go to the Citadel..."


    Vaegon, known as the Dragonless, had earned bachelor''s chains of various materials during his lifetime and was indeed very knowledgeable.


    Saera coughed violently, struggling for breath. "Vaegon said the Citadel''s maesters are a bunch of self-important fools. He didn''t fit in," she gasped.


    Rhaegar twiddled his fingers under his gray robes and said seriously, "I will go to the Citadel."


    Saera wouldn''t have mentioned Vaegon without reason. There had to be something significant that even she didn''t fully understand.


    Thinking about Saera''s earlierment about Targaryens not being suited for Westeros, Rhaegar decided to visit the Citadel after returning.


    "Cough, cough, cough..."


    Saera''s coughing grew worse, and even after taking two gulps of wine, shey on the bed, pounding her chest, her face flushed with difort.


    Seeing this, Rhaegar felt a pang of worry for his aunt''s health.


    Geddel, Saera''s son, said softly, "Mother''s old illness is acting up. Let me arrange a room for you to rest."


    Rhaegar shook his head. "No, you take care of aunt."


    With that, he nned to leave. He had met his grandmother''s blood rtive and uncovered some little-known secrets. It wasn''t a wasted trip.


    As Rhaegar walked out of the room, Geddel and Dae followed him.


    "It''ste outside. I''ll find you some pretty girls to spend the nightfortably," Geddel offered curtly.


    Rhaegar''s face turned cold, and he nced at Dae without speaking. The thought of her being reduced to prostitution infuriated him, even though she was a bastard.


    Geddel quickly exined, "Dae''s mother was a whore, and after her death, she was kept in a brothel. But only two days ago, she was purchased at a high price by a Lysene merchant."


    Rhaegar looked at Dae inquiringly.


    Dae bowed her head and nodded. "I didn''t want to be a whore, but that Lysene merchant gave my grandmother a lot of gold."


    She was making it clear that she had been forced into prostitution.


    Rhaegar, still displeased, said coldly, "She was sold like cattle, attribute it to your greed."


    Geddel was speechless, unable to defend himself. The price the Lysene merchant had paid was indeed too high.


    Ignoring him, Rhaegar headed for the door.


    Dae took two quick steps, tugged at his ck robe, and whispered, "I have a sister. Can you take her with you?"


    Rhaegar stopped and looked back at Geddel.


    Geddel, panicked, quickly exined, "La is still young and just works in the kitchen of the brothel."


    Rhaegar took out a bag of gold coins and tossed it to Dae. "Go and take your sister away, and any other Targaryen bastards too."


    There were plenty of bastards on Dragonstone. It would be easy to resettle them there.


    "No, mother only has two bastards. The other is married," Geddel interjected, fearful of further misunderstanding.


    Dae nodded and hurried off to find her sister.


    Once she was gone, the corridor was left with only the sounds of the rooms on either side.


    After a moment of silence, Rhaegar asked, "You have two more bastard brothers?"


    Geddel, surprised by Rhaegar''s question, replied, "Yes, the eldest brother is a merchant, and the youngest has a Triarch father. Both left the brothel."


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed, thinking of the two consuls of the Elephant Party.

 Chapter 273: The Temple of the Lord of Light

    Chapter 273: The Temple of the Lord of Light


    Within moments, Dae returned in a hurry, apanied by a girl of about twelve or thirteen dressed in rough clothing.


    The girl possessed distinct Valyrian features: silver-blonde curls, light purple eyes, and delicate, porcin-like skin.


    Rhaegar examined her. She was a pleasant-looking girl with a cute, round face, holding Dae''s hand timidly.


    Dae led her forward and said gratefully, "La, this is the lord who saved me. Thank you, my lord."


    La, an earnest child, dropped to her knees and said softly, "Thank you, Your Grace."


    "Stand up," Rhaegar said, his voice softening as he looked at the little girl, who was about the same age as Hena. He had always been objective in his views on bastards and held no particr bias against them.


    "Let''s go."


    Ignoring the embarrassed Geddel, Rhaegar put on his hood and led the two girls out of the brothel.


    ...


    The following day.


    A ck-robed figure emerged from the ck Wall and entered an unassuming inn. Ascending to the second floor, he pushed open a door, and a young girl''s surprised voice immediately came from inside: "My lord, you''re back."


    Dae''s face lit up with joy as she held a rag for wiping the table in her hand. She hurriedly brought a cleaned stool and said, "My lord, please rest. I''ll go order food."


    "No need, I brought it back," Rhaegar replied, removing the hood that hid his face and setting down the purchased food on the table.


    Dae and La didn''t dare to take it and looked timidly at Rhaegar.


    "I''ve already eaten," Rhaegar said, waving his hand. "You two eat."


    The two girls, having grown up in fear and deprivation, respected and feared him. Dae murmured her thanks and took the food, sharing it with her sister.


    As she chewed the bread, Dae whispered, "My lord, did you not see the Triarch?"


    She knew Rhaegar''s purpose for the morning journey but it seemed to have yielded little sess.


    Rhaegar nodded. "Neither of the two leaders of the Elephant Party were at their residence."


    Last night, he had learned from Geddel about the residence of the two Elephant Party leaders, but it was unfortunate that he was in a hurry and missed them.


    "The Triarchs are abominable," La muttered softly, nibbling on a piece of ham and bowing her head timidly.


    "Because they encourage the ve trade?" Rhaegar asked.


    La nodded vigorously, her thin body leaning against her sister. Her heart ached for Dae, who had been trafficked.


    "Eat up, I have to go outter," Rhaegar said, rubbing La''s head, seeing a resemnce to Hena in her.


    "Can we follow you out?" La tilted her little face up and asked miserably, "My sister and I have been working in the brothel. We haven''t seen what it''s like outside."


    "La, stop it!" Dae was startled and scolded her bold sister.


    Rhaegarughed, "It''s alright. Let''s go out for a while. It''s no big deal."


    Saying that, he took out a ck robe for La. Without seeing the Elephant Party''s consul, he didn''t intend to waste time waiting.


    "After taking in the sights of Vntis and buying some local specialties as gifts, it will be time to return," he thought.


    The two sisters, excited to hear they could go out, quickly gulped down their food.


    ...


    At noon, the sun was shining brightly.


    Three ck-robed figures walked through the streets of the eastern district, drawing curious nces from passersby.


    As they strolled, the voice of a woman preaching the faith of the Lord of Light reached their ears, her fervent words echoing through the crowd.


    Rhaegar pulled down his hood to see the same red-robed woman from the Long Bridge the day before, passionately preaching to a group ofmoners and ves.


    "Let''s go around," he said, repulsed by the sight of the red-robed woman, and led hispanions into a nearby alley.


    Emerging from the narrow passageway, they found themselves in front of a tall building that resembled a temple. Its white walls were decorated with small pieces of red cloth painted with mes, and two stone torches nked the entrance, their mes flickering brightly.


    Rhaegar nced around and noticed a group of warriors in red robes, armed with short sticks and spears, standing guard near the temple.


    "My lord, this is the temple of R''hllor. These are the guards of the Lord of Light," Dae exined quietly.


    "I can''t believe we''ve ended up at the doorstep of the Lord of Light," Rhaegar muttered, shaking his head and turning to leave.


    "Wait, esteemed guest!" a woman''s maic voice suddenly called out.


    Rhaegar stopped and looked around cautiously. There were few pedestrians near the temple entrance, so it was clear that the voice was directed at him.


    A red-robed sorceress with a slender figure and a dignified presence approached him from the temple. She had a striking appearance and moved with grace, her red lips parting as she spoke, "Honored guest, the High Priestess invites you to the temple."


    "Invites me?" Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as he asked cautiously, "Who is your High Priestess and how does she know who I am?"


    The followers of the Lord of Light always seemed a bit mystical, and he was reluctant to get involved.


    The red-robed sorceress smiled softly. "The High Priest foresaw the visit of an honored guest, and was guided by the Lord of Light to recognize you."


    "Speak inly," Rhaegar replied, unimpressed by the talk of oracles.


    The sorceress''s smile faltered slightly. "I saw your image in the mes. It must be you."


    Rhaegar frowned, recalling how a red-robed woman at Stone Hedge had used me illusions to deceive House Bracken three years ago. He had learned of the deception from the soldiers afterward.


    Suddenly, he felt a gaze upon him. Looking up, he saw an old man in a red robe standing at the temple entrance, watching him calmly.


    The sorceress followed his gaze and said respectfully, "Esteemed guest, that is High Priest, the one who wishes to see you."


    "I see," Rhaegar responded indifferently, striding toward the temple.


    The high priest had revealed herself, so he had nothing to fear. Worst case, he could call upon Cannibal, and there was little a dragon''s fire couldn''t resolve.


    Shortly after, Rhaegar entered the temple.


    The interior was stark, with walls adorned with me patterns and a stone sculpture of a burning red heart. Fire pots scattered around the space cast a flickering glow, illuminating the dark hall.


    The red-robed old man had returned to his ce, kneeling by a central bonfire, his hands extended toward the mes. Rhaegar approached, examining the intricate carvings on the walls.


    "Great Dragonlord, I have seen you in the mes," the old man intoned, opening his cloudy eyes.


    Rhaegar''s face remained impassive. "What message has the Lord of Light given you, and how does it concern me?"


    The old man, with a kind face and a white beard, shook his head. "The Lord of Light did not send an oracle. It was I who saw you in the mes."


    Rhaegar sat down by the fire, listening intently.


    "The tides of magic are surging," the old man said slowly. "In recent years, these waves have brought me confusion."


    "Tides of magic?" Rhaegar''s interest piqued. He had heard this term before, from the head of the Shadowbinder.


    "Yes, magic exists in the world, as unstable as the tides," the old man exined. "The mes foretell that the tides of magic will be imprinted on your family."


    "The Targaryens do not have a legacy of sorcery from the time of the Freehold," Rhaegar murmured, thinking of the Forty Dragonlords Houses, known for their pyromancy and blood sorcery. The Targaryens, being lesser lords, had not inherited such knowledge.


    "Dragons are the strongest magical creatures; they carry part of the magic," the old man said calmly.


    Rhaegar fell into thought. It was true that dragons were inherently magical, which exined their immense power.


    "Is the number of dragons rted to the magic tides?" he mused aloud.


    The Targaryens currently had fourteen dragons, both adults and juveniles.


    "I don''t know. I have never encountered a dragon before," the old man admitted hesitantly. "Since the Fall of Valyria, the magic tides have been in decline. In recent years, they have begun to rise again."


    "So, it''s not the dragons that influence the magic tides, but the magic tides that influence the dragons?" Rhaegar guessed.


    When the Targaryens first migrated to Dragonstone, they brought six dragons with them. Five of these dragons died under mysterious circumstances, leaving only a young Balerion, the ck Dread. Over the next decade, Meraxes and Vhagar hatched. It took several more decades before the fourth dragon, Silverwing, hatched.


    The hatching and survival rates of dragons were incredibly low. Starting from the reign of his great-grandfather Jaehaerys, the number of dragons began to increase slowly.


    Dragons such as Cannibal and Dreamfyre hatched on Dragonstone, while Vermithor and Silverwing emerged from eggs in the cradle. Twenty yearster, Sheepstealer, Meleys, and Caraxes were hatched. In recent years, Syrax, Sunfyre, Seasmoke, and Grey Ghost joined the ranks.


    It took over a hundred years from the time of Aegon the Conqueror for the Targaryens to breed fourteen dragons. It was believed that the surging magic tides increased the dragons'' hatching rate.


    The red-robed old man sighed and said, "The magic tides are extremely unstable. The current high tide may soon give way to an even greater low tide."


    In his perception, the magic tide was already weak. If it continued to drop, magic might dry uppletely. This would prevent the oracles of the Lord of Light from descending, a terrible tragedy for his followers.


    Rhaegar understood the gravity of the situation. The Targaryen dragons depended on magic for their existence. The receding tide of magic would hit them hard.


    "Is there any way to stop the receding of the magic tide?" Rhaegar asked.


    The red-robed old man shook his head, smiling bitterly. "The magic tide is a natural phenomenon that cannot be reversed by human power. Even the gods'' will is beyond ourprehension."


    "I suppose we can only hope and see what happens," Rhaegar said, feeling helpless.


    The old man''s expression grew serious. He reached into his robes and said, "I saw a disaster in the mes. Perhaps this is a test brought by the magic tide."


    "You seem to see many things in the mes," Rhaegar said, half-skeptical.


    The old man had spoken of seeing Rhaegar and now of a looming disaster. Rhaegar was dubious about the truth of his visions.


    The red-robed old man remained silent as he pulled out a ss candle from his pocket.

 Chapter 274: The Dragon Arrives in Volantis

    Chapter 274: The Dragon Arrives in Vntis


    The ss candle was a foot long, as thick as a baby''s arm, andposed of transparent, zed crystal.


    The red-robed old man hesitated before exining, "The Dragonlords of Valyria could use ss candles to tap into magic and see scenes thousands of miles away."


    He handed the ss candle to Rhaegar, adding softly, "This candle was recovered from the ruins of Valyria. It cannot be replicated in the present world. I am giving it to you."


    In his mind, the vision in the mes alone might not convince the Targaryen Dragonlord. Offering the ss candle could create the value it deserved and potentially solve many problems.


    Rhaegar examined the ss candle curiously. "How do I use this thing?"


    He had heard of ss candles before. The Citadel in Oldtown had such alchemical artifacts. ording to a de-named Maester, he earned his Valyrian Steel link, symbolizing expertise in the ult, when he identally lit a ss candle in an empty room.


    The red-robed old man''s eyes grew distant as he recalled, "The ss candle may require magic. You will need to figure out the rest on your own."


    "I''ll try," Rhaegar said.


    He closed his eyes and focused on the ss candle in his hand. After talking with the old priest, he was certain the man harbored no ill intent��just a genuine concern.


    Rhaegar ttened the ss candle in his hand and silently summoned the magic within his blood. As a pyromancer, he could channel magic.


    Suddenly, the familiar beep of the Explorer System rang in his ears.


    "Quest initiated: Target��Bloodmage''s Secret Candle."


    Rhaegar opened his eyes in surprise.


    The ss candle flickered, its zed wick igniting. Rhaegar felt the magic in his blood being drawn into the candle at a slow but steady rate.


    "Does it really need magic to activate?" he murmured to himself, ignoring the old man''s suspicious gaze as he checked the Exploration System.


    [Bloodmage''s Secret Candle]


    Exploration Progress: 0.3%


    Note: This relic is a product of alchemy. Please maintain magic infusion.


    Rhaegar realized he had instinctively cut off the magic flow.


    [Blood Witch''s Secret Candle]


    Exploration Progress: 0.3% (paused)


    "Magic is the source..." Rhaegar spected, his eyes brightening. "Secret Candle? Could it be hiding a bloodmage''s legacy?"


    The thought of sorcery inheritance excited him.


    "Guest, it seems you truly are the owner of this ss candle," the red-robed old man marveled, watching the candle dim and flicker in Rhaegar''s hands.


    This ss candle had remained inert in his possession for decades. asionally, during sacrifices to the Lord of Light, it would ignite, a miracle that boosted the faith and offerings of his followers.


    The old man sighed and rose to leave the temple. He had ceded the hall to the Targaryen Dragonlord, hoping that Rhaegar might indeed uncover something within the ss candle.


    The magic tidal wave of disaster had been foretold.


    ...


    Hours passed.


    Rhaegar sat before the dying bonfire, feeling drowsy. The ss candle rested between his legs, its wick burning with a small, wavering orange me.


    "Fiery Hands! Protect the temple!"


    "The Tiger Cloaks have gone mad, hide in the temple!"


    A terrified woman''s scream suddenly pierced the calm, echoing from outside the R''hllor Temple.


    Rhaegar snapped awake, confused. Everything had been quiet��why the sudden chaos?


    As he lifted his head, a dozen red-robed priests and women rushed into the temple. The priests, of various ages, all had shaved heads. The women were young, dressed in revealing clothes, with tattoos of tears or mes on their cheeks.


    Rhaegar knew the temple of Rahlo included ves. The red-robed guards, called the Fiery Hands, were ve soldiers trained from a young age. Additionally, young girls were purchased to serve as lifelong ve girls, with the most devout bing Red Priestesses who spread the faith of the Lord of Light.


    "Honorable guest, pleasee with me! There''s a rebellion within the ck Wall��the rebels have invaded the entire east city district."


    The Red Priestess who had invited Rhaegar earlier now ran towards him, panic evident in her voice.


    "Rebellion? What��s going on?" Rhaegar frowned, his eyes scanning the Fiery Hands gathering rapidly outside the temple.


    Hundreds of them surrounded the temple entrance, their spears pointed at the chaotic streets.


    The priestess ''s voice trembled with fear, but she spoke quickly, "The two Triarchs of the Elephant Party assassinated the Tiger Party''s Triarch. Themander of the Tiger Army has led a riot."


    As she spoke, she ran ahead of Rhaegar, her loose sash flying open, revealing bouncing snow-white curves. She seemed oblivious to it.


    Rhaegar averted his eyes, dismayed. "Vntis is in chaos?"


    No wonder he hadn��t found the two Elephant Party Triarchs earlier��they��d been plotting an assassination.


    The priestess, still in a hurry, continued, "The streets are filled with Tiger Cloaks burning and looting. Many ves have joined in. You and I must hide in the temple cer."


    Rhaegar hesitated, ncing at the ss candle. Should he follow her or deal with the chaos outside?


    Rhaegar checked the status of the ss candle.


    [Bloodmage''s Secret Candle]


    Exploration Progress: 56%


    Note: This relic is a product of alchemy. Please maintain magic infusion.


    The ss candle was halfway through its exploration and needed more time toplete. Rhaegar rubbed the candle, deep in thought. He wasn��t afraid of the chaos outside, but he hade to Vntis with specific goals: to understand Vntis''s stance towards the Triarchy and to establish initial diplomacy with the three Triarchs.


    The assassination of the Tiger Party''s Triarchplicated matters. The Tiger Triarch, a hardliner, had sharedmon ground with the Targaryens. With the Tiger Party''s leader gone, their initial efforts seemed wasted. The two Triarchs of the Elephant Party, clearly opposed to the Tiger Party''s policies, were likely responsible for the upheaval.


    Rhaegar had to decide his next move. Ignoring the red priestess''s urging, he noticed the ss candle had extinguished.


    The Triarchy was always an enemy of the Targaryens. Vntis, under the Tiger Party, also despised the Triarchy, aligning with Targaryen interests. But now, the Tiger Party was in disarray.


    Rhaegar muttered to himself, uncertain of his next step. Suddenly, a thunderous explosion erupted at the temple entrance, followed by screams.


    A burning stake hit arge torch in front of the temple, igniting a raging fire. The Fiery Hands guarding the entrance were caught in the mes, their screams piercing the chaos.


    Rhaegar''s gaze turned cold as he asked, "Where are the two girls who came with me and the high priest of the temple?"


    Only the red-robed priests and women had entered the temple. Dae, her sister and the High Priest were missing.


    The red priestess replied quietly, "The high priest led the believers to preach, and the two girls followed."


    Rhaegar cursed under his breath, "What terrible timing."


    "I''ll go find them. You all stay hidden."


    Ignoring the fierce mes at the temple entrance, Rhaegar tucked the ss candle into his sleeve and walked out without looking back. He intended to understand the situation outside and find the Dae and La along the way.


    The red priestess, wanting to stop him, heard the screams of the Fiery Hands and instead knelt before the bonfire to pray to the Lord of Light.


    ...


    The East Side of Vntis was in chaos.


    The Tiger Cloaks, identifiable by their tiger tattoos, had revolted and were robbing civilians. Among their ranks were stone-throwing vehicles aimed at wealthy merchants'' residences. Their focus was clear: target the rich, without concern for coteral damage.


    "Run!"


    "Hide, hide in the cer!"


    Rhaegar, dressed in ck robes, moved against the flow of fleeing civilians. After a short distance, he encountered a group of well-equipped mercenaries. Their mismatched armor indicated they were hastily assembled.


    As soon as they appeared, they shed with the Tiger Cloak army. Rhaegar took cover behind a stone pir, listening to the curses from both sides.


    "Damn Elephants! Assassinating our Triarch, you betrayed Vntis!"


    "The Tiger Party tried to start a war and deserved it..."


    "Our consul is dead. Kill the Elephant Party Triarch too. We''ll take control!"


    The conflict was irreconcble.


    "Vntis is going to be inplete chaos," Rhaegar thought, summoning the Cannibal dragon in his mind.


    Avoiding the fighting, Rhaegar headed towards the Long Bridge. The High Priestesses were spreading their faith in this area, rallying the ves.


    Boom!


    A ming stake flew in, destroying a distant house. The heat wave knocked Rhaegar off his feet, sending him flying backwards.


    "Ahem... Damn Tiger Cloaks."


    Struggling to his feet, Rhaegar coughed, his arm sore from the impact.


    "Run!"


    Around the corner, a group of fleeing ves appeared, pursued by Tiger Cloak soldiers wielding scimitars. One soldier spotted Rhaegar and sneered, "A Valyrian-blooded boy with no tattoos. He must be rich!"


    Rhaegar''s hood had slipped, revealing his long silver-gold hair.


    "Grab him! It''s not every day we get rich!"


    The Tiger Cloak soldiers, eyes filled with greed, surrounded him. One rushed forward, machete in hand.


    ng!


    Rhaegar dodged and drew his Dragon w sword, slicing through the approaching machete.


    "You''ve got guts!"


    With cold eyes, Rhaegar swung his sword horizontally.


    Swoosh.


    The sharp de of the Dragon w cut through the Tiger Cloak soldier, bisecting him before he could react.


    "It''s a Valyrian steel sword! Let''s take him down together!"


    Recognizing the material of Rhaegar''s sword, the soldiers'' greed intensified.


    "Oh, I really don''t have any luck with the Free Cities."


    Facing ten times his number, Rhaegar showed no fear, a sneer ying on his lips as he twirled his sword.


    Believing he was scared, the soldiers charged even more fervently.


    Suddenly, a shadow darkened the sky, enveloping the broken city.


    "Roar!"

 Chapter 275: A Deathbed Prophecy

    Chapter 275: A Deathbed Prophecy


    The dragon''s roar echoed through the chaotic city, and a torrent of green Dragonfire descended from the sky.


    In an instant, it engulfed the alleyway where Rhaegar stood.


    Under the intense heat of the Dragonfire, the rebels couldn''t even scream. Their flesh and bones incinerated instantly, leaving behind only ashes.


    Above, the Cannibal dragon circled, its enormous, charcoal-ck body looming like a mountain in the sky. The green Dragonfire slowly lost its intensity and extinguished.


    "Cough, the storm is getting worse," Rhaegar muttered, covering his mouth and nose. He walked out of the ash-covered alley, his ck robe peppered with burn holes.


    All around him, the eastern district of the city was aze. The air was filled with the sound of screams and wails.


    Rhaegar shook his robe to extinguish the remaining sparks and muttered, "Vntis is inplete chaos."


    Chaos was good. He would add more fuel to the fire.


    "Roar..."


    High above, the Cannibal roared, its green eyes surveying the turmoil below. The dragon had been roaming the wastnds outside Vntis for days and was finally releasing its pent-up energy.


    After a couple of circles, Cannibal found a clearing andnded with a thunderous boom. The impact shattered the ground and sent sparks flying.


    "Cannibal, let''s go!" Rhaegar called out, his ck robe billowing in the wind. He hurried forward and climbed up the dragon''s back using adder.


    Reunited with his dragon, Rhaegar felt his heart pounding with exhration.


    "Roar!" Cannibal roared, stamping the ground with its ws beforeunching into the sky.


    Half-crouched on the dragon''s neck, Rhaegar''s long hair flew wildly in the wind. Looking down, he spotted stone throwers scattered around the ck Wall. "Cannibal, destroy those stone throwers," hemanded.


    Cannibal, highly intelligent, understood. Its green eyes shed with a ferocious light as Dragonfire erupted from its mouth.


    The chaotic army below heard the dragon''s roar and saw the Dragonfire descending upon them.


    "Fire! Dragonfire!"


    "It''s the dragon that burned the Triarchy!"


    As the stone throwers were engulfed in mes, the surrounding Tiger Cloak soldiers were caught in the inferno, their screams lost in the sea of fire.


    Vntis, with its Valyrian traditions and culture, was no stranger to dragons. The moment the massive Cannibal appeared, everyone trembled in fear, their cries filling the air.


    Rhaegar, atop his dragon, heard the distant screams and smiled coldly. He would have preferred to keep a low profile, but circumstances didn''t allow it.


    Cannibal, sensing his thoughts, roared as they flew toward the Long Bridge over the Rhoyne. Rhaegar remembered his mission.


    First, he needed to find his lostpanions.


    ...


    Meanwhile, the bridge was in chaos.


    Brothels and stores on both sides of the bridge mmed their doors shut, sending ves to barricade them.


    Hearing the news of the Triarcht''s assassination, the Tiger Cloak Army from the West Side rushed onto the bridge, heading toward the East Side, the epicenter of the chaos.


    As they charged forward, stalls were overturned, and barriers were violently broken down.


    Some ves, still tied to stakes, couldn''t be led away in time. They fell to their knees in fear, holding their heads and trembling.


    A stall was knocked over, and coins from its drawer spilled onto the noisy bridge, their nking echoing through the chaos.


    In an instant, the coins caught the attention of the Tiger soldiers.


    The air seemed to freeze.


    Momentster, an agitated shout rang out: "Gold!"


    The leaderless Tiger Cloak army descended into chaos, scrambling for the fallen coins.


    The few coins weren''t enough to satisfy them, so their eyes turned to the stores lining the bridge.


    With the chaos in the eastern city center spreading like wildfire, the situation grew worse.


    Vntis, with its stark divide between rich and poor, was ripe for pandemonium.


    "Loot!"


    The Long Bridge erupted in violence as stores were broken into, smashed, and robbed.


    A whileter, a thunderous roar filled the air.


    Cannibal, a majestic dragon, swooped down toward the ming Long Bridge like a dark cloud blocking the sun.


    Seeing the chaos below, Rhaegar''s heart pounded. His voice turned icy. "Cannibal, Dracarys!"


    To find hispanions, he couldn''t afford to waste time with the chaotic soldiers.


    With a rumble, Cannibal flung its thick neck, unleashing a torrent of Dragonfire that swept from the east side of the bridge to the west.


    The powerful mes lifted debris and sent zing heat in their wake.


    In mere moments, the Long Bridge was engulfed in green fire, the mes sweeping across like a wave.


    None of the Tiger Cloak soldiers caught in the Dragonfire survived; they were reduced to ashes.


    Those who hid in the stores were too terrified toe out.


    "My lord! Lord Rhaegar!"


    As Cannibal circled over the Long Bridge, a small girl with silver-blonde, slightly curly hair emerged from a hidden stable.


    Rhaegar looked down at the sound of his name and saw La, wrapped in ck robes.


    Relief washed over him; at least she was safe.


    As La appeared, many half-dressed ves ran out from stables, warehouses, and corners, falling to their knees and kowtowing on the boiling hot bridge.


    "Lord Dragonlord..."


    Cannibal ignored the small group of people below, its pitch-ck wings casting a vast shadow over the long bridge.


    Kneeling and looking up at the dark dragon, both civilians and ves, their faces flushed with a mix of fear and reverence, cried out, "Dragonlord!"


    "Cannibal,nd," Rhaegarmanded, moved by the sight below.


    Obeying his voice, Cannibal descended, its ws crushing buildings on either side of the long bridge, and its bodynded with a resounding crash.


    The long bridge, wide enough for two wagons to pass side by side, seemed narrow under Cannibal''s massive ws.


    Rhaegar slid down the dragon''s neck and headed straight for La. "Where is your sister and the High Priest?"


    La, anxious, pointed towards the stables behind her. "My sister is in the stables. The old priest... he��s hurt."


    "I''ll go and see," Rhaegar said, his eyes darkening with concern.


    Pushing open the barred door of the stables, he saw horses paralyzed with fear, shitting and pissing themselves.


    In the corner, Dae sat on her knees, holding a bloodied old man.


    Rhaegar stepped forward to examine the wound. There was a sword cut through his abdomen, and his intestines were exposed.


    "He can''t be saved," Rhaegar sighed. The damage was too severe for any healing magic to work.


    Dae, teary-eyed, exined, "The Tiger Cloak army is looting everywhere..."


    Rhaegar didn''t need further details. The old priest and his followers had been caught in the violence.


    "Cough..." The red-robed old man stirred, coughing up blood. Seeing Rhaegar, he strained to speak.


    Rhaegar crouched closer, hearing the old man repeat, "The me foretells disaster... The me is apanied by winter..."


    "Song of Ice and Fire?" Rhaegar asked, his eyes narrowing.


    "mes... the long dark night..." the old man gasped out his final words, then slumped, dead.


    "The long night... it really is ice and fire," Rhaegar murmured, feeling a chill. The old man''s prophecy matched what Aegon the Conqueror had foreseen.


    "My lord, the city-states are at war. What should we do?" Dae, her hands covered in blood, trembled.


    "Don''t be afraid. It''s just a dy in our departure," Rhaegar reassured her, though his mind was racing. He called for the ves to remove the old man''s body.


    Mounting Cannibal once more, Rhaegar addressed the civilians and ves below, who looked at him with fear, reverence, and hope.


    Drawing his sword, Rhaegar stood tall on Cannibal''s back and shouted, "Those who want to live, go to the Temple of R''hllor. The dragon will quell the war!"


    Cannibal roared, pping its wings and ascending from the long bridge, heading back towards the eastern city district.


    Seeing this, the civilians and ves were awestruck, hesitating only a moment before one of them shouted, "Follow Lord Dragonlord!"


    With renewed hope, the group moved as one, following the dragon''s silhouette.


    ...


    As Cannibal flew back towards the eastern city district, the chaotic scene below began to shift. The hired mercenaries retreated to the ck Wall, closing the city gates behind them. Meanwhile, the Tiger Cloak army, seeking vengeance for the Triarch''s death, assembled outside the ck Wall with siege wagons, ready to breach the gates.


    The sudden appearance of the dragon halted the chaos momentarily. The Commander of the Tiger Cloak army blew his horn, rallying his troops for the impending assault on the city.


    On the battlements of the ck Wall, two middle-aged men, both dressed in borate, richly adorned clothing, paced nervously. They were the Triarchs of the Elephant Party. One had short silver-gold hair and blue eyes, clearly of Valyrian descent, while the other, with ck hair and dark brown skin, was a prominent moneylender.


    "Lord Triarch, the Tiger Mantle army is gathering in greater numbers," a breathless mercenary reported.


    The Triarch, both chubby and pale-faced, exchanged worried nces.


    "Forget the Tiger Cloak Army for a moment. Where did that dragon go?" one of the Triarchs demanded, his face contorted with fear. The dragon was a real threat, capable of destroying a city-state.


    The mercenary, looking distressed, could only shake his head, unable to provide an answer.


    Suddenly, a familiar, thunderous roar echoed above the ck Wall, carrying for miles. Both Triarchs looked up in horror, their eyes widening as they saw the ck dragon soaring overhead.


    From the dragon''s back, Rhaegar gazed down with a cold, expressionless face, easily spotting the two richly dressed consuls amidst the crowd.


    "Cannibal, give them a warning," Rhaegarmanded.

 Chapter 276: The One-Day Emperor of Volantis

    Chapter 276: The One-Day Emperor of Vntis


    Boom...


    Ghostly green dragonfire erupted from Cannibal''s maw, sweeping over the defending troops on ckwall. In an instant, the impregnable fortress was engulfed in mes, and wails of agony filled the air.


    One breath of dragonfire was not enough. Cannibal unleashed sessive torrents, burning both sides of the wall from top to bottom.


    "Run for your lives! It''s a real dragon..."


    "The dragon''s mes will consume Vntis..."


    Under the relentless dragonfire, the troops inside and outside ckwall were terrified, their will to resistpletely shattered.


    "Cannibal, that''s enough," Rhaegarmanded.


    After the onught, Rhaegar surveyed the chaos below, where soldiers iled in the sea of fire. He clenched his fist, satisfied with the result.


    Connected by their bond, Cannibal circled ckwall twice beforending on the solid gatehouse.


    Before them, the two Triarch of the Elephant Party, nked by hired mercenaries, panicked and tried to flee.


    Rhaegar''s gaze hardened. He patted Cannibal''s back.


    Without a word, Cannibal lowered its massive head, blocking the Triarchs'' escape. The dragon bared its fangs, roaring menacingly.


    Thud!


    One of the Triarchs fell to his knees in terror, his face ashen. The bystanders followed suit, their fear palpable.


    "Lord Dragonlord, Vntis has always been peaceful. We never intended to provoke your dragon!" the Triarch pleaded, his voice shaking. He felt a warm wetness spread in his trousers.


    "Cannibal," Rhaegar shouted, signaling the dragon to draw back the mes that were building in its throat. He dismounted and walked toward the Triarchs, his hand on the hilt of his sword.


    Standing between Cannibal''s curved gray horns, Rhaegar looked down at the crowd. "Mquo was my friend, and you killed him for no reason!"


    His voice was cold and unyielding. The presence of the dragon demanded attention.


    The Triarchs were taken aback by the mention of Mquo. They had heard whispers of Mquo''s correspondence with a Targaryen, but dismissed them as rumors.


    The silver-haired Triarch spoke tremblingly, "Lord Dragonlord, we were unaware of your friendship with Mquo. Please don''t be angry. Give us a chance to make amends."


    As he spoke, his eyes darted nervously to the dragon.


    Cannibal sensed his fear and snorted in displeasure, sending waves of hot, sulfurous air over the Triarchs, nearly knocking them down.


    "Lord Dragonlord, I have connections with the Targaryens. Please, spare me," the dark-skinned Triarch pleaded, his voice desperate.


    Rhaegar''s face darkened. He remembered Geddel''sints in the brothel about this Triarch who had taken Saera as his mistress.


    "Oh, you dare mention that," Rhaegar said icily. He pped Cannibal''s rough horn andmanded, "Cannibal!"


    In a sh, Cannibal''s vertical pupils gleamed with malice. The dragon lunged, its fangs piercing the Triarch''s body. With a swift motion, it flung the Triarch into the air, tearing him apart.


    "No! Have mercy!" the Triarch wailed, but his pleas were cut short as Cannibal devoured him piece by piece.


    Rhaegar watched coldly, a hint of satisfaction ying at the corners of his mouth. Finding a Targaryen princess as a mistress and then mentioning it in front of him��such insolence deserved a brutal end.


    "Spare me, Dragonlord! Spare my life..." The remaining Triarch copsed, his mental defenses shattered. He cried out, begging for mercy.


    He was a moneylender, not a warrior. He had bought his way into power, and he knew better than to challenge a dragon.


    The hired mercenaries, equally terrified, dropped their weapons and fell to their knees.


    Rhaegar ignored them. He turned Cannibal''s attention to the Tiger Cloak army below.


    Cannibal''s maw opened slightly, and green dragonfire began to gather.


    ...


    The next day, just at dawn, the sun rose in the east, casting its light on the rapids of the RhoyneRiver and illuminating Vntis after the tumultuous night.


    Beneath the ck Wall, a ck dragony prostrate, its thick, long tail coiled under its head, wings spread out like a vast curtain. Seated cross-legged atop the dragon''s head, a young man in ck robes leaned against the dragon''s slender, pir-like horns.


    In front of the dragon and its rider, a diverse crowd had gathered. The ck Wall was surrounded byyer uponyer of people, extending as far as the eye could see. Gorgeously dressed merchants, armor-d warriors, wealthymoners, and tattooed ves��all stared in awe at the formidable dragon and the young Dragonlord.


    "My lord, the prisoners have all been escorted here!" announced a red priestess, leading a group of prisoners bound in chains through the crowd. The masses parted, creating an open space in front of the dragon.


    Anyone observing closely would notice that the prisoners were prominent figures of Vntis��moneylenders, merchants, ve-owners, and even a Triarch. Among them was a military officer with a tiger tattooed on his face.


    As the Dragonlord remained silent, the red priestess stepped forward into the clearing and addressed the assembly.


    "People of Vntis..." she began, using the persuasive rhetoric she had honed in spreading her faith. Her impassioned speech outlined the crimes of the Elephant Party Triarch, who had secretly incited war and assassinated the Tiger Party Triarch. She identified the prisoners as the culprits involved.


    The Dragonlord of Targaryen, she exined, was a close friend of the in Tiger Triarch and hade to Vntis to seek peace. Upon encountering the chaos, he had used his dragon to quell the unrest and save the people from their suffering. Now, under the guidance of the Lord of Light, he was ready to judge the sinners.


    She spoke of the friendship between the Targaryens and Vntis, the king''s mercy, and his aplishments, embellishing her narrative with mythological hues. Themoners and ves, who had endured plundering and fear the previous day, were won over by her words.


    "Long live the Dragonlord... Long live the Dragon..." The cries of the crowd grew louder, reaching a fervent pitch under the ck Wall.


    In front of the masses, some of Vntis'' old nobility and warrior ss exchanged nces and joined the chanting. Soon, even the moneylenders, merchants, and ve-owners of the Elephant Party, seeing the tide turning, began to chant as well.


    The previous night, the Dragonlord had summoned all prominent figures of Vntis into the ck Wall for a grand council under the dragon''s watchful eye. Those who supported him were now among the crowd. Those who opposed him were bound in chains.


    As the chanting peaked, the red priestess smiled and waved her hand. The Fiery Hands brought forth arge pile of firewood, stacking it and igniting a massive me. The sorceress, holding a torch, waved it before the crowd.


    "People of Vntis," she proimed, "the Dragonlord will judge Vntis for its hidden sins. We must grant him the most noble rights!"


    The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices rising to a crescendo.


    Whispers about electing the Dragonlord as Triarch filled the air. These murmurs, however, came primarily from themoners and ves.


    Representatives from both the Tiger and Elephant parties silently stepped into the clearing. From the Tiger Party, an elderly nobleman in fine attire and a fierce young man with a tiger-tattooed face presented themselves. The old nobleman trembled as he knelt before the dragon, fumbling in his pocket before producing a golden crown. This crown, adorned with a ruby the size of a pigeon��s egg, featured intricately carved dragons along its edge, each one spewing fire.


    Raising the crown with both hands, the old nobleman dered, "Honorable Dragonlord, this coronation crown from the days of the Freehold is dedicated to you, noble of blood."


    The Elephant Party''s representative knelt as well, adding, "We ask you to serve as the supreme Triarch of Vntis and restore the glory of the Freehold."


    At these words, the ck-robed figure atop the dragon stirred. Rhaegar awoke from his feigned slumber, his gaze fixed on the ancient crown. Despite its age and slightly blurred carvings, the crown radiated the weight of centuries.


    Stretching from his cross-legged position, Rhaegar straightened his back and spoke calmly, "This is the crown of an empire and can only be worn by an emperor."


    Historically, Valyria was known as the Valyrian Freehold. It had no emperor or king, instead electing a supreme Triarch from among the forty Dragonlord families. Rhaegar��s statement, however, was deliberately ambiguous.


    The old nobleman, clutching the crown, shouted with fervor, "You are the Emperor of Vntis!"


    Rhaegar surveyed the crowd, remaining silent and not rushing his response. Observing this, the red priestess knelt and implored, "Your Grace, the Dragonlord, please be crowned under the watchful eye of the Lord of Light!"


    Her action prompted themoners and ves to follow suit, kneeling and voicing their agreement. Members of both the Tiger and Elephant parties hesitated before also kneeling.


    Rhaegar noted their reactions andughed inwardly. This had all been prearranged. He had acted as the supreme Triarch of Vntis for a day, judging the remnants of the power structure. Under the dragon��s threat, the Tiger and Elephant parties had no choice but to cooperate. In return, Rhaegar would step down after a day, selecting three new Triarchs.


    This exchange of benefits allowed Rhaegar to gain fame, fortune, and recognition. It also positioned him to support at least one Triarch, enabling him to influence Vntis'' politicalndscape.


    Surveying the crowd��s pleas for his coronation, Rhaegar felt a surge of emotion. "Mquo, thank you for your death," he thought. Without the assassination of this Tiger Party Triarch, he wouldn''t have had the opportunity to dominate Vntis.


    Rising and patting his torn ck robe, Rhaegar drew the Dragon w from his waist. The Valyrian steel sword, gleaming with cold light, was raised high, reflecting the morning sun''s rays and exuding an aura of fearlessness.


    The crowd fell silent, tens of thousands of eyes fixed on the silver-haired youth atop the dragon.


    "Gentlemen, thank you for your trust," Rhaegar began, his violet eyes sweeping over the assembly. "But I am from Westeros, and there is a real kingdom waiting for me to rule. I cannot fully protect Vntis."


    A murmur of disappointment rippled through the crowd. Who wouldn''t want to live under the rule of a powerful, benevolent Dragonlord?


    "But!" Rhaegar''s voice, filled with precise emotion, regained their attention. Pointing forward with the dragon��s ws, he struck his chest with one hand and proimed, "In this moment, I will be your emperor to rid you of evil!"

 Chapter 277: Precious Magic Spells

    Chapter 277: Precious Magic Spells


    After Rhaegar''s deration, tens of thousands of people erupted in apuse, their cheers echoing across half of the East Side.


    To themoners and ves, even a single day of the Dragonlord''s rule as Emperor was a monumental event. In this city-state, where Triarchs were elected annually, such an urrence was unprecedented.


    "Before the sun sets today, I will judge all the affairs of Vntis," Rhaegar announced, seizing the moment. "No matter one''s status or origin, I will ensure a fair investigation."


    Themoners and ves were ecstatic. In a city-state that prided itself on equality, they often found themselves overlooked and mistreated. The Emperor''s promise of impartiality filled them with hope.


    Under the gaze of tens of thousands of eager eyes, Rhaegar took a deep breath and pointed his sword at the chained prisoners in the open space.


    The red priestess, her eyes glowing with fervor, urged, "Your Grace, these are the culprits who disrupted the peace of Vntis. Please deliver the highest judgment!"


    On the open ground, the Elephant Party''s Triarch and the officers of the Tiger Cloak Army shook their heads and shouted in fear. Their mouths, stuffed with rags, could only produce muffled whimpers.


    Rhaegar surveyed the crowd, his Valyrian steel sword gleaming in the morning light, his voice chilling as he dered, "I sentence you to be consumed by Dragonfire!"


    Sensing his master''s intent, Cannibal''s eyes glowed fiercely. A low growl rumbled from his throat as he shifted his massive body, supported by his wings.


    Rhaegar, standing between the dragon''s curved horns, his silver hair blowing in the breeze,manded proudly, "Dracarys!"


    The word, spoken in pure High Valyrian, reverberated in the ears of every Vntian present.


    Cannibal''s nostrils red, and he bared his teeth, roaring, "Roar!"


    The dragon''s roar blew the prisoners off their feet, sending them rolling on the ground. Before their screams could be heard, a wave of green Dragonfire engulfed them.


    Zira...


    The stench of burning flesh and smoke filled the air as the Dragonfire scorched the earth, leaving behind a charred pit with only a few remnants of bone.


    ...


    The trial ended and an unprecedented parade began.


    Crowned Emperor, Rhaegar wore his ck robes, now adorned with a golden crown, and paraded through the eastern and western districts of Vntis, greeted by an adoring crowd.


    Refusing to be carried by ves, he chose instead to be carried by arge white elephant with magnificent tusks, found for him by the citizens.


    Seated on the elephant''s broad, red-carpeted back, Rhaegar was nked by a hundred members of the Fiery Hands.


    Above him, Cannibal, the ck dragon, soared through the sky, asionally roaring and releasing bursts of dark green dragonfire that sliced through the sky.


    As the white elephant advanced, it frequently stopped to allow many civilians and ves, including merchants, to approach and air their grievances.


    An elderly fisherman spoke of thugs who had stolen his boat, a prostitute spoke of being beaten by her clients, and a merchantined of ack of dock space despite paying taxes.


    True to his word, Rhaegar addressed each injustice, regardless of the status of theinant, be it ve or prostitute.


    He also received many suggestions, with concerns about safety and sanitation on the West Side being the mostmon.


    Rhaegar had noticed the poor conditions of the West Side on his first day in Vntis.


    After much deliberation, he assured the people, "I will formte a n to improve the West City District. Even if I step down tomorrow, the new Triarch will ensure its implementation."


    "Thank you, Emperor," the citizens replied, kneeling in gratitude.


    Who wouldn''t want to live in a cleaner, safer environment?


    Rhaegar''s willingness to ept suggestions and guarantee their implementation showed his wisdom as Emperor of Vntis.


    ...


    Time, always precious, passed quickly.


    As the sun dipped below the horizon, its red glow painted the sky. The patrol left the West Side and returned to the mouth of the Rhoyne River near the Long Bridge.


    Rhaegar rode the majestic, tusked white elephant, cutting a regal figure against the setting sun. His violet eyes were calm, a faint smile ying at the corners of his mouth.


    After serving as Emperor for one day, he had cemented his reputation as a wise and brave leader in Vntis, a reputation that would surely reverberate throughout the nine free trade city-states.


    Following the white elephant was the red priestess on a white horse. Three others, surrounded by the crowd, apanied her: the old nobleman who had offered the crown, the fierce young man with the tiger tattoo, and a handsome middle-aged man with Valyrian features.


    These three were the triarchs Rhaegar had carefully chosen for Vntis.


    The old nobleman represented the noble power and had been instrumental in securing the agreement with Rhaegar. The fierce young man, Tesrio, was a rising star in the Tiger Cloak army, renowned for his exceptional martial prowess. Upon being chosen as a Triarch, he immediately pledged his loyalty to Rhaegar.


    Thest man, Varos, had a unique background. He was the third illegitimate son of Saera, and his father had been the executed Triarch of the Elephant Party. As a bastard, Varos had received little attention from his father, leading to a strained rtionship.


    Rhaegar''s decision to kill the Elephant Party Triarch and appoint Varos as the new Triarch won the immediate loyalty of the Elephant Party faction, which was eager to stabilize under new leadership.


    As the sun set, the three new Triarchs of Vntis officially took office. The old nobleman and Tesrio were from the Tiger Party, while Varos represented the weakened Elephant Party.


    This strategy was a calcted move on Rhaegar''s part. The Tiger Party, allied with the Targaryens, could generate more value and maintain stronger ties. Once Varos stabilized the remnants of the Elephant Party, the old nobleman and Tesrio could effectively control the situation in Vntis.


    In this intricate power y, Rhaegar ensured that he would reap the benefits.


    ...


    The procession moved slowly as the white elephant carried Rhaegar through the bustling port. Suddenly, a loudmotion erupted nearby.


    Rhaegar turned to see a group ofunchers in disarray on a ship moored in the harbor.


    "Capture him quickly, he''s infected with grayscale! We can''t let him go ashore!" someone shouted.


    "Throw him overboard, but be careful not to let him touch anyone!" another voice added.


    At the mention of greyscale, Rhaegar''s expression hardened. "Let''s go see what''s happening," he ordered.


    "Yes, Your Grace," replied one of the Fiery Hands, leading a group toward the ship.


    The red priestess, now presiding over the Temple of R��hllor, saw this as an opportunity to spread the faith of the Lord of Light and supported Rhaegar��s actions.


    Not long after, the Fiery Hand returned with the ship''s captain, a sailor, and a broken ck tablet.


    The Fiery Hand exined the situation: the ship was a smuggler''s vessel that had encountered a storm and drifted into the Smoky Sea near the ruins of Valyria.


    There, they discovered a subterranean cave along the coast and retrieved an ancient relic��a broken stone tablet with carved inscriptions. During their exploration, they were attacked by stone men, monstrous figures infected with greyscale. Several sailors were scratched and contracted the disease.


    When the ship docked, the infected sailors were prevented from disembarking.


    The red priestess approached Rhaegar on her white horse, her voice filled with concern. "Your Grace, greyscale is extremely dangerous. They must be banished immediately."


    Rhaegar nodded thoughtfully. Both Westeros and Essos typically dealt with greyscale by exiling the infected to the harsh environment of the Smoky Sea.


    "First, imprison them under strict guard," Rhaegarmanded. He then instructed the Fiery Hands to bring the broken stone tablet closer.


    The tablet, made of ck dragonstone, was heavily damaged, with a rectangr shape that was split in the middle and crushed around the edges. Valyrian script was faintly visible on its surface.


    Rhaegar examined it closely, silently reading the fragmented inscription: "Berys... high tower... nest..."


    Despite the erosion of time, he managed to recognize a few words. His eyes widened in surprise. "Berysfamily!" he eximed.


    The Berys House was one of the forty Dragonlord families that had once lived on the Fourteen mes. They were renowned for their immense power, far surpassing House Targaryen, which ranked lower among the Dragonlords.


    Realizing the gravity of this discovery, Rhaegar decided to keep it discreet. "Carry the stone tablet away. I will deal with this privately," he ordered, aware of the potentialplications involving a prominent Dragonlord family.


    As the sun set, the crowd looked up at the sky, their faces reflecting a mix of emotions��loss, regret, and joy.


    Rhaegar felt a deep sense of satisfaction. He had already achieved much in his brief tenure as Emperor of Vntis. Holding onto the title any longer would only invite unnecessary trouble.


    ...


    Night descended upon the city.


    Within the ck walls, in what used to be the residence of the Tiger Party, now repurposed by the Dragonlord, a quiet mist filled the air. Steam billowed from a cracked window in a courtyard bathroom, apanied by the gentle sound of flowing water.


    A tattered ck robe hung over the door, signifying the identity of the upant.


    Inside, the bath was elegantly designed, with cobblestones lining the floor, flowers adorning the corners, and hot water cascading from a bamboo tube into the bath.


    Rhaegar waspletely submerged in the warm water, his body rxed and his mind at ease. At the edge of the bath, the ancient stone tabletsy t, their surfaces meticulously cleaned.


    Resting his head on the edge of the tub, Rhaegar''s face reflected serene exhaustion. The relentless events of the day had taken their toll, and now was his moment of rest. He drifted off into a deep, unguarded sleep, his long hair fanning in the water, the soothing sound of the flowing water in his ears.


    In his hand, close to his chest, was a ss candle. Even in his sleep, Rhaegar''s dedication to uncovering the secrets of the relics remained.


    As night fell, a faint beep sounded.


    "Explorationplete, please retrieve the lost treasure."


    Rhaegar, still deep in slumber, stirred slightly but did not awaken.


    The system automatically resumed its task.


    [Bloodmage''s Secret Candle]


    Exploration Progress: 100%


    A small purple orb appeared above the water and gently descended. As it made contact with Rhaegar''s arm, it burst into a soft glow, infusing him with its light.


    "Relic picked up sessfully, detecting..."


    "Detection sessful, recognized as an Epic Relic, Bloodmage''s Treasure."


    The messages continued, but Rhaegar remained undisturbed, his fatigue too deep to be shaken.


    With the ss candle near his ear, another beep sounded.


    "Congrattions, Bloodmage''s Treasure has been activated, you have obtained..."


    [Enchantment Spell


    Grade: Excellent (Blue)


    Effects: When used with a ss candle, it enhances the potency of the bloodline and strengthens magical abilities.


    Rating: "A rare spell co-developed by a Pyromancer and a Bloodmage."]

 Chapter 278: Dream of the Smoking Sea

    Chapter 278: Dream of the Smoking Sea


    The exploration mission concluded, and the knowledge of the [Enchantment Magic Spell] quietly seeped into Rhaegar''s mind.


    "Haha~~"


    Each infusion of knowledge sent shivers down his spine, eliciting a moan of pleasure. His hands fell naturally by his sides as he drifted deeper into sleep.


    Gradually, Rhaegar entered a peculiar dream.


    The dreamscape was shrouded in mist, with fine dust floating in the air, making visibility extremely poor. In this misty environment, a lone boat floated on a calm sea.


    Rhaegar found himself on a narrow wooden boat, his hands gripping the oars as he drifted slowly down a winding tributary. Lush bushes lined the shore on either side, adding a ssh of color to the dull surroundings.


    "Where is this?" Rhaegar wondered aloud, paddling in a daze. He was unaware that he was dreaming, his consciousness confused.


    Suddenly, a massive, partially copsed stone bridge loomed before him. Rhaegar was startled, but remained calm. The bridge, once arched, now stood as a mere frame on either side, its center reduced to ancient ruins.


    As the wooden boat slid beneath the remains of the arched bridge, Rhaegar looked around in wonder.


    Crack...


    A bolt of lightning pierced the dark sky, illuminating the scene for a fleeting moment.


    Rain...


    Almost immediately, a downpour began, drenching Rhaegar within moments.


    He sighed helplessly, paddling on as the rain soaked him through.


    Then the scene changed dramatically.


    The air grew thick with smoke, rolling like a torrent. Rhaegar wiped the rainwater from his face, only to find himself sweating profusely. The oppressive heat made it hard to breathe.


    Looking back, he saw volcanoes lining the shore, spewing rivers of reddish magma.


    "No wonder it''s so hot," he thought in amazement.


    But the chaos didn''t stop there.


    The heavy rain, smoke, and volcanic eruptions were followed by another change. The sky, swirling with smoke, revealed a strange red light that pierced the haze and cast an eerie glow.


    Rhaegar lifted his head and muttered, "What is that?"


    Boom...


    A red meteorite pierced the haze, slicing through the dark sky before crashing into the sea.


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened in horror as he watched the densely packed points of red light resembling a chaotic disy of fireworks.


    Within moments, one meteorite after another began to fall, transforming into balls of fire as they plummeted toward the sea.


    Realizing that he felt no pain when he pinched his face, Rhaegar understood that he was in a dream world. This realization caused the dream space to waver and crack slightly.


    He reached out his hand reluctantly and muttered, "I still don''t understand what this dream means!"


    As the meteorites continued to fall, the sea rippled violently and the wooden boat rocked violently. The dream began to fade.


    Rhaegar closed his eyes, quietly awaiting the moment he would wake.


    "Roar!"


    At thest second before the dream shatteredpletely, a loud and rough dragon''s roar echoed through the sky, filled with a sense of ominous danger.


    "A dragon?" Rhaegar''s heart tightened. He tried to open his eyes to see.


    Suddenly, a massive wave surged, instantly sinking the wooden boat.


    Rhaegar woke abruptly, water sshing as his long hair pped against his face.


    "Hooooo~~" he exhaled heavily, heart pounding. "There''s a dragon..." he murmured in a trance.


    The dragon''s roar from his dream lingered in his mind. "This isn''t normal," he muttered, rubbing his face.


    As he calmed down, his gaze fell on the broken stone tablet, an artifact from the Smoking Sea ruins, potentially linked to the Berys family. "Daydreaming and nightdreaming," he shook his head, still puzzled.


    Rhaegar had interrogated the smugglers. They had found the relic in the fog-shrouded Smoking Sea, likely part of the ancient Lands of the Long Summer. Navigation was treacherous there, but the old sailor managed with ancient charts.


    The real danger was the stone men��irrational, cruel, and bloodthirsty beings who knew the terrain intimately, hunting any who strayed into their domain. Their attack had decimated the smuggling crew.


    "The site of the Berys family is too tempting," Rhaegar mused. The Dragonlord families were powerful, especially one like the Berys. The ancient knowledge he had from other sources was invaluable, but finding dragon-taming lore could significantly strengthen House Targaryen.


    "I have to n well," he thought. "Valyrian ruins are dangerous, and the Smoking Sea even more so."


    He recalled the tragic tale of Aerea Targaryen, niece of his great-grandfather Jaehaerys. Aerea, daughter of Rhaena Targaryen, was the third rider of Balerion, the ck Dread. After mounting Balerion, she disappeared for a year. When Balerion returned to King''s Landing, Aerea was barely alive, her body ravaged.


    Balerion bore terrible wounds, and Aerea was even worse off, with her bones visible and skin red and bloody. She died that night, her body burned from within by a creature known as the Firewyrms.


    It was theorized that Aerea, unable to control Balerion, was taken to Valyria, the dragon''s homnd, and fell victim to its cursed creatures.


    The ruins of Valyria.


    There, a man and a dragon faced peril��one was killed, the other severely injured.


    As a result, King''s Landing forbade any ship that had ventured near the Valyrian ruins from docking for a long time.


    Rhaegar was silent, weighing the benefits against the risks.


    The legends of Aerea and Balerion were horrific. But ording to Rhaegar''s spection, they must have ventured deeper into danger, leading to the tragedy.


    The empire of the Freehold is in ruins, and thend of the Long Summer has be the Smoking Sea. But that doesn''t mean no one lives there.


    At least a few fringe city-states still exist on Valyrian soil. There are also many fishermen around the Smoking Sea, and asional expeditions.


    The ruins of the Berys family were located in the Smoking Sea��not an inessible ce.


    As he pondered, Rhaegar ruffled the water, revealing a ss candle.


    He recalled the disturbances he had experienced in his sleep.


    With a thought, he called up his personal status.


    Rhaegar Targaryen


    Talents: Dreamer (Gold), Pyromancer (Purple), Longevity (Green)


    Bloodline: Ancient Valyrian Dragonlord (47%)


    Rune: Serpent (Blue), Bronze (Green)


    Blood Sorcery: Enchantment Spell (Blue), Dragonstone (Blue)


    Relics: Blood and Fire, True Dragon''s Blood, Dreamscape


    Evaluation: "Ancient bloodline at the threshold, perhaps more fire and magic can enhance it."


    Rhaegar checked his status and whispered, "One more enchantment spell."


    He scanned the trigger conditions for [Bloodmage''s Treasure]. It only required the ability to light a ss candle.


    This had triggered the Explorer System in his sleep, granting him the Blood Sorcery: Enchantment Spell.


    "A rather useful sorcery," Rhaegar''s eyes lit up as he held the ss candle and secretly activated his Pyromancer talent.


    Boom...


    The ss candle in Rhaegar''s left hand glowed softly, while mes erupted from his right hand, growing more intense.


    "Let''s try this."


    As the me crackled, Rhaegar aimed at the broken stone tablet and flung the fire. The mes shot smoothly from his hand, hitting the tablet with a muffled thud and leaving a charred patch on its surface.


    Rhaegar clicked his tongue, pondering, "The mes are indeed stronger, but it''s just a rudimentary fireball."


    Throwing fireballs was the stuff of legends, something he''d only dreamed of.


    Previously, he possessed the talent of a Pyromancer butcked the means to fully utilize it.


    Examining the marks on the stone tablet, Rhaegar felt a twinge of dissatisfaction. "Impressive, but the power iscking."


    One fireball drained a tenth of his magic power, enough to potentially kill an ordinary person. Yet, he assessed it wasn''t as effective as drawing a sword and striking directly.


    Turning the ss candle in his hand, Rhaegar''s curiosity got the better of him. He decided to try a few more "fireball spells."


    Aiming at the broken stone tablet, heunched a series of fireballs with loud thuds. Before long, his head pounded, and dizziness set in. His legs weakened, and he sank into the pool.


    He had experienced this before. Enduring the dizziness, he muttered, "Insufficient mental power."


    Casting magic required not only magical power but also strong mental strength. Excessive use of enhanced fire spells had depleted his mental energy.


    Crunch-


    The bathroom door creaked open, and Dae hurried in, looking around nervously. "My lord, I heard strange noises. Is everything alright?"


    The loud fireballs had startled the girls downstairs.


    Embarrassed by the sudden intrusion, Rhaegar turned his back, saying, "It''s nothing, you can leave now."


    He shook his head, the dizziness intensifying.


    "My lord, you seem to be in pain," Dae said worriedly, moving closer. She closed the bathroom door behind her.


    Rhaegar covered his forehead, vigorously rubbing his temples.


    "Let me help you," Dae offered.


    Rhaegar''s headache was severe, his agitation growing. The faint scent of green flowers filled the room as Dae approached.


    The fragrance soothed him, his brow rxing as he inhaled deeply. The headache seemed to ease.


    Realizing the floral scent might be aiding his recovery, he wanted to ask her about it. Just then, a pair of cool hands touched his head, gently massaging his temples.

 Chapter 279: Daemon Sudden Appearance

    Chapter 279: Daemon Sudden Appearance


    "My lord, let me help you rx," Dae said earnestly, kneeling at the edge of the bath as she began to massage his temples.


    Rhaegar hesitated for a moment, then epted her offer and asked bluntly, "What is that scent you''re wearing?"


    The fragrance seemed to alleviate his headache, likely replenishing his mental energy.


    "Scent?" Dae blinked her sparkling eyes and replied honestly, "It''s a homemade scent powder, made from a beautiful orchid."


    Curious, Rhaegar immediately inquired, "What kind of orchid, and where can I find it?"


    "I believe it''s called the Soul Restoring Orchid. The name sounds a bit ominous," Dae exined. She lowered her head, continuing in a whisper, "A whoremonger gave the orchid to my mother as a gift. She didn''t want it, so she gave it to me."


    She blushed with a mix of shame and frustration. Deep down, she resented her grandmother and mother. Even as an bastard, she wished she hadn''t been born in a brothel, surrounded by chaos.


    "The orchid is a rare flower with a Valyrian name. It grows in the Smoking Sea and is asionally brought back by expeditions as a souvenir," Dae added. She hade by the orchid a few years ago by chance. She crushed it into powder and stored it in a discarded powder box, using it sparingly because of its rarity.


    Rhaegar listened quietly, feeling the headache ease under Dae''s massage and the soothing effects of the flower. "Later, bring me the pollen, and I''ll give you a bag of gold coins," he said. The Soul Restoring Orchid was rare but incredibly useful. It was worth spending money to obtain more.


    Dae shook her head, refusing the offer. "My lord, you saved me. I can''t ept your money."


    Rhaegar didn''t insist. "As you wish."


    Dae smiled and increased the pressure of her massage. After a while, Rhaegar felt drowsy, his eyes growing heavy.


    As he drifted towards sleep, he heard a rustling sound behind him. Then, a soft touch on his back made him open his eyes in confusion. The touch became a gentle, fluffy rub.


    Rhaegar froze, quickly realizing what was happening. He tried to move away, but Dae''s hands slid down to encircle his waist, preventing him from escaping.


    "My lord, let me serve you in your rest," Dae whispered shyly, her face flushed.


    Rhaegar''s eye twitched, and he said breathlessly, "Let go, I''m not sleepy yet." He was acutely aware of the fierce female dragon waiting for him back in King��s Landing. He couldn��t afford to be unfaithful.


    Dae tightened her grip, her voice trembling, "My lord, you are a noble dragon lord. Please don''t disdain me for my lowly origins."


    In her heart, she felt honored to serve a true dragonlord. The scent of the orchid filled the air, and Rhaegar leaned back with mixed feelings.


    The water in the pool began to ripple gently.


    ...


    Three dayster, at the harbor of the Rhoyne River, a beautifully shaped three-masted sailing ship was docked, proudly flying the g of the three red dragons. Sailors bustled about, loading goods onto the ship, while a team of 100 well-equipped mercenaries maintained order.


    Rhaegar, dressed in ck, stood on the shore, gazing out over the blue sea.


    "Prince, we will strictly handle the affairs you left behind," one of the three new Triarchs assured him.


    "The Smoking Sea is dangerous. Be careful, Prince," another Triarch added.


    The three Triarchs stood respectfully behind Rhaegar. The old nobleman wore a solemn expression, his eyes shrewdly observing the sailboat. Tesrio remained expressionless, like a stern wooden figure. Varos, with a ttering demeanor, showered Rhaegar with pleasantries, expressing his reluctance to see him leave.


    After days of contemtion, Rhaegar had decided to explore the Smoking Sea ruins. To prevent worry in King��s Landing, he had sent a raven exining his ns. He promised to return within a month, confident in his preparations and strategy.


    Rhaegar had hired the best helmsmen and sailors in Vntis, along with a team of elite mercenaries to ensure his safety. Half of these men had previously ventured into the Smoking Sea and returned safely, significantly reducing the trip''s danger.


    Once the goods were loaded and preparationsplete, Dae approached timidly, bowing her head in farewell. "My lord, you must return safely. I will be waiting for you."


    La stood beside her, eyes slightly red and swollen. The sisters, deeply grateful for Rhaegar''s favor, were reluctant to see him go.


    Rhaegar smiled softly. "Take care of yourselves. The voyage won''t be long." He then bid farewell to the three Triarchs, entrusting the governance of Vntis entirely to them.


    Boarding the ship, Rhaegar ordered the mercenaries to escort sailors infected with greyscale disease into the bilge. These patients could not remain in the castle and were to be deported to the Smoking Sea along the way.


    "Roar..." A ck dragon''s shadow shed overhead, its presence stirring a gale that billowed the ship��s sails and soared towards the high clouds. From the deck, Rhaegar watched the mighty figure of Cannibal, feeling a surge of energy and confidence.


    The Smoking Sea was perilous, and Rhaegar wasn��t going alone. He would sail using the traditional routes taken by fishermen and explorers, while Cannibal would provide aerial escort and support, ready to intervene at any sign of danger. This strategy minimized the risks, allowing one man and one dragon to navigate the treacherous journey safely.


    ...


    The sailboat set off, disappearing over the horizon.


    That night, under the cover of darkness, a massive fire broke out in Vntis. The mes originated from a prestigious brothel, quickly engulfing the entire establishment. None of the prostitutes or patrons managed to escape. The fire spread rapidly, prompting the Tiger Army to intervene.


    A mile away, in an inconspicuous attic, a ck-robed figure stood by a window, watching the inferno. The sounds of panicked shouts reached his ears, and he chuckled, "Good job. It burned very cleanly."


    It was evident that he had orchestrated the ze, and he was quite pleased with the oue.


    "My lord, Varos was also in the brothel. He may be discovered by morning," another voice spoke from the shadows.


    The ck-robed figure turned to face a fierce young man with a tiger-like visage��it was the new Tiger Party Triarch, Tesrio.


    He stared at Tesrio for a moment before speaking in a bored tone, "Go down. Themander of the guards should be present at the fire scene."


    Tesrio hesitated briefly, then replied, "Yes, my lord." He quickly exited the attic, his eyes flickering with a touch of malice.


    The ck-robed figure watched him leave, then removed his hood, revealing Daemon''s handsome face in the firelight.


    "A poorly trained dog can still be useful," Daemon muttered coldly, assessing Tesrio. He had a history with Mquo and had long been in secret contact with his men. With Mquo dead and Tesrio in power, Daemon found it easy to manipte him, knowing his vices well.


    Rhaegar''s hurried selection of the Triarchs had left little time for thorough vetting. Daemon, however, did not aim to control Vntispletely��he only sought to exploit it for his benefit.


    Daemon tapped his fingers on the window frame, sneering, "A temporary emperor, ying a child''s game."


    In a trading city-state like Vntis, where power and money ruled, trust was a raremodity. The presence of a dragon could enforce order for a day, but it would eventually leave. Daemon intended to extract as much value as possible, taking advantage of the chaos.


    "Put out the fire... put out the fire..." Heart-wrenching cries echoed from the streets, but the attic remained calm.


    Daemon''s gaze returned to the burning brothel, his eyes filled with contempt. "A Bitch who tarnish the honor of the Targaryens..." he spat, his disdain palpable.


    ...


    Time flew by, and ten days passed in the blink of an eye.


    On a vast sea, a thick haze shrouded the sky, blocking out the scorching sun. A three-masted sailing ship drifted alone.


    Rhaegar stood on deck, gazing at the foggy sky with a slight frown. There seemed to be small ashes floating in the air, making it somewhat ufortable to breathe.


    "My lord, we''ve entered the Smoking Sea," a middle-aged sailor with one blind eye and a short, sturdy build reported as he approached.


    Rhaegar nodded lightly, then said cautiously, "Robert, lower a boat and send a few mercenaries ahead to scout the area."


    "No problem, my lord," Robert replied, thumping his chest in assurance before issuing the order in a loud voice. He was one of the best sailors in Vntis, having survived numerous sea storms. Hismanding skills and passion had earned Rhaegar''s trust.


    With a ssh, a small wooden boat was lowered into the sea, and several mercenaries jumped in, holding torches and rowing forward.


    Rhaegar watched silently. It was a simple but effective strategy. The Smoking Sea was perpetually shrouded in smoke, reducing visibility to almost nothing. Sending scouts ahead was safer than venturing into the depths blindly.


    Seeing Rhaegar''s concern, Robert grinned broadly, "My lord, I''ve navigated the Smoking Sea before. As long as we find the right direction, there won''t be any idents."


    "I hope you''re right," Rhaegar responded, his tone reserved.


    He then took out a rough chart and searched for a red cross marked on it. That was the location identified by a smuggling ship. First, they would encounter the ruins of a long stone arch bridge. After sailing along the ruins for a certain distance, they would reach a remote rocky beach. The site they sought was in a cave on that beach.


    Two hourster, a cluster of torchlight emerged from the haze as the scouting boat slowly returned.


    Robert leaned over the railing eagerly, "Anything ahead?"


    "All is clear, just thick smoke," the lead mercenary shouted back, waving his torch.


    Robert beamed, turning to Rhaegar, "My lord, shall we set out?"


    Satisfied with the report, Rhaegar mused, "Sail for an hour first. Let''s find the bearing on the chart before proceeding further."


    The Smoking Sea did not cover arge area; the real dangery in the old Valyrian ruins along the northern and southern shores. Their destination was marked near the northern shore, likely a fragmented piece ofnd rather than the maind itself.

 Chapter 280: Ghost Ship Incident

    Chapter 280: Ghost Ship Incident


    Time passed quickly.


    On the vast sea, the three-masted sailing ship drifted slowly, like a fallen leaf caught in a river''s current.


    Gulp, gulp, gulp...


    About two hours into the voyage, the gray seawater began to bubble strangely, resembling boiling water. Scorching steam, thick with the smell of sulfur, surged upward, and scalding sshes erupted sporadically.


    Unable to withstand the heat, the mercenaries in the canoe mbered back onto the sailboat in a panic, seeking refuge.


    Rhaegar leaned against the rail and watched the turbulent sea.


    "My lord, the Smoking Seaes from the region of the Fourteen mes, so there are numerous volcanoes and magma lurking beneath the water," Robert exined, sweating as he removed his jacket.


    The climate of the Smoking Sea is unpredictable, unlike any other ocean in the world. Active volcanoes intermittently erupt below the surface, causing constant crustal movement. This constant activity exins the ever-present haze and boiling appearance of some areas.


    Rhaegar had familiarized himself with these facts before embarking on this journey, so he wasn''t too surprised. He silentlymented the loss of the Fourteen mes, once a natural dragon''s nest. Had it not fallen, the Freehold of Valyria might never have fallen, and both Westeros and Essos might still be under dragon rule.


    "Roar..."


    A loud roar echoed from afar as a ck dragon shadow pierced the haze and glided over the sailboat.


    Rhaegar, snapped out of his thoughts by the dragon''s roar, tensed, "Look out, there''s movement!"


    Swish...


    The hired mercenaries quickly gathered at the bow, torches in hand, staring intently into the misty waters.


    Robert, startled and nervous, asked, "My lord, why is the dragon roaring? What has happened?"


    The pitch-ck Cannibal hovering above the ship had roared for the first time, signaling something unusual.


    "Not sure, anything can happen on the Smoking Sea," Rhaegar replied with a slight frown.


    Cannibal was responsible for surveying from a medium to long distance to prevent the ship from encountering unavoidable dangers. Rhaegar sensed a warning in its roar��something nearby had caught its attention.


    Rumble...


    A thunderous explosion echoed from afar. Rhaegar looked up in surprise, seeing a column of fire piercing the sky and sttering like fireworks through the indistinct haze.


    Though the haze obscured the view, it was evident that a volcano had erupted.


    "My lord, it��s an active volcano! There''s a volcano erupting in the distance!" Robert trembled, his one remaining eye wide open.


    Rhaegar hastily consulted the map,paringndmarks to determine their position. Momentster, he sighed in relief and said, "This active volcano is not on our route. It''s a random eruption."


    From a distance, the eruption site was several dozen miles away. The eruption was so powerful that the magma broke through the surface and could be seen from afar.


    "Roar..."


    A gust of wind rocked the ship as Cannibal swooped overhead, roaring sharply. Rhaegar grabbed the railing to brace himself against the wind.


    Cannibal''s roar echoed in his ears, and he snapped to attention, yelling, "Alert, enemy!"


    Cannibal''s roar was usually thick and heavy, but this one was different. It signaled the approach of an unknown enemy.


    ...


    Vntis.


    The free people of the city-state gathered beneath the ck walls of the east side.


    Ten nights ago, Varos, the new leader of the Elephant Party, was killed in a fire.


    Under the leadership of the two Tiger Party Triarchs, the city held its annual election.


    Itsted for ten days, with the city''s freeholders casting their votes.


    Finally, on the tenth day, the Elephant Party elected a rotund, middle-aged man with a beaming smile.


    His name was Dofas Bartholomew.


    Originally a member of the Elephant Party, he quickly gained the favor of many freedmen who revered the "Emperor for a Day" and was elected as the new Triarch.


    When the election concluded, Dofas stood on a temporary tform, raising his arms and shouting, "My fellow citizens, I will honor His Majesty the Emperor''s will and improve the order and construction of the Western District!"


    "Good..."


    The free people cheered, admiring the Triarch who pledged to follow the Emperor''s will and improve the lives of themoners.


    After the promation, ves brought buckets of wine, fruits, and meat for all to enjoy.


    This was a custom in Vntis: ten days of voting followed by ten days of revelry.


    Dofas joined the crowd, celebrating with them.


    On the tform, only the old nobleman and Tesrio, the Tiger Party Triarch, remained.


    The old nobleman leaned back in his chair and whispered, "Is the mastermind behind the fire gone?"


    "Yes," Tesrio replied, enjoying a massage from a female ve, his eyes half-closed. "He heard where the Emperor went and took a boat to chase after him."


    "Sigh, being targeted by the Dragonlord family means Vntis will never know peace," the old nobleman sighed, full of worry.


    He was an old man, only wanting to secure the right to make money without risking his life.


    Tesrio opened his eyes, disdain evident. "Vntis was lost because of people like you. Now, with the support of the two Dragonlords, what is there to fear?"


    His thoughts were simple.


    Vntis had the potential to conquer other free trade city-states, but itcked an opportunity and a strong ally.


    Now, both the opportunity and the allies hade.


    ...


    The Smoking Sea.


    The three-masted schooner drifted aimlessly, its deck crowded with battle-hardened mercenaries.


    Rhaegar stood at the center, his hand absently rubbing the hilt of his Dragon w sword.


    A deep, mournful horn sounded across the chaotic sea, its eerie, orderly tone lending a sense of solemnity to the moment.


    Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed, locking onto the direction of the horn''s source��somewhere behind the sailboat.


    Through the haze, a massive shape emerged, cutting through the boiling water and drawing closer.


    "It''s a ship! A warship!" cried a sharp-eyed sailor in panic.


    Ignoring the rising mor, Rhaegar focused on the approaching vessel, barely discernible in the dim, smoky environment.


    "An exploration team?" he spected, noting the warship''s approach from the Smoking Sea''s entrance.


    After a moment''s consideration, he ordered, "Raise the g and sound the horn!"


    "Yes, my lord."


    Several mercenaries sprang into action, hoisting the three-headed red dragon g of House Targaryen and blowing a warning horn.


    In the perilous Smoking Sea, encounters often ended in violence, but Rhaegar hoped to avoid conflict.


    However, the warship continued its relentless approach, seemingly oblivious to their signals.


    Rhaegar noted the warship lowering its own horn, adopting an unmistakably aggressive stance.


    "Fools," he muttered, "they have no idea what they��re dealing with."


    He mentallymunicated with Cannibal, preparing to unleash dragonfire upon the intruding vessel.


    The warship loomed closer, its sailors�� frantic horn sts now audible.


    Cannibal hovered above, ready to unleash destruction.


    As the ship broke through the haze, its full form came into view, and Rhaegar��s eyes widened in shock.


    The warship was a wreck, its hull tattered and torn, marked by knife and axe scratches. Its filthy canvas pped in the wind, riddled with holes.


    The decaying deck was swarming with eerie figures��men with scarlet eyes fixed on the sailboat.


    These creatures, covered in cracked, gray dead skin, moved with stiff, twisted limbs and lifeless faces.


    Rhaegar recognized them instantly: Stone Folk.


    "Get away from the sailboat immediately!" he shouted, his voice sharp with urgency.


    The schooner already carried a few Gray Scale patients awaiting banishment. If these Stone men boarded, none of the crew would survive.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared, swooping down with a burst of green dragonfire.


    Boom...


    The warship was engulfed in mes, the sticky dragonfire quickly spreading over its hull.


    The boat of Stone men was consumed by dragonfire, their roars turning into mournful wails as they struggled in the green mes. These irrational creatures, now reduced to primal fear, thrashed wildly.


    "Release the arrows! Release the arrows!" Robert shouted, his voice filled with urgency as he urged the mercenaries to draw their bows.


    Arrows flew as the tattered warship, teeming with Stone men, began to burn. Those not immediately consumed by the fire leapt into the boiling sea, driven by a desperate instinct to survive.


    The sea bubbled and roiled as Stone men fell into the water, floundering and roaring in panic. Mercenaries drew their bows, firing arrows into the writhing mass.


    Cannibal circled above, unleashing dragonfire on the broken warship, determined to reduce it to ashes.


    "Save your arrows, evacuate the ship!" Rhaegarmanded, sensing the need for a swift retreat. The sudden appearance of a warshipden with Stone men was too unsettling.


    At Rhaegar''smand, the schooner quickly turned and set a new course. Stone men survivors swam after the sailboat, some managing to cling to the hull, their hideous forms wing and roaring as they tried to climb aboard.


    Mercenaries lined the sides, dispatching the creatures with point-nk shots. Slowly, the schooner sailed away, leaving the boiling waters behind.


    The immediate danger passed, and the tension aboard the ship eased. Rhaegar looked up, surprised to see the sky clearing, the sun breaking through.


    Turning back, he saw the haze of the Smoking Sea still hanging in the distance.


    Robert approached with a chart, excitement in his voice. "My lord, we��ve entered a safe zone. The Smoking Sea abnormal distribution is scattered here."


    The Smoking Sea, once part of a continental copse, had areas of rtive calm where the volcanic activity was less intense. In these zones, the haze would lift, and the sea would be more serene.


    Rhaegar sighed in relief, a smile tugging at his lips. Encountering the Stone men had shaken him a little, but now they were in safer waters.


    As they sailed further, the outline ofnd appeared on the horizon. Beaches, hillsides, and patches of greenery came into view, signaling their approach to their destination.

 Chapter 281: Strange Ruins Everywhere

    Chapter 281: Strange Ruins Everywhere


    The Smoking Sea


    The three-masted schooner rocked violently as the Cannibal swooped overhead, its wings creating a gale that rattled the sails. Rhaegar stumbled, barely maintaining his bnce.


    "What''s wrong, Cannibal?" Rhaegar muttered, watching the dragon''s agitated circling. Cannibal had been unusually tense since they entered the Smoking Sea, and its behavior grew more erratic after the stone mans attack.


    The dragon roared again, its wings pping angrily as it vented its frustration. Rhaegar''s face grew grim. "Dock the ship!" he ordered, eyeing the distant shore. The Smoking Sea was a ce of constant danger, and the chance for rest was wee.


    "Yes, my lord," came the weary response from the sailors and mercenaries. The volcanic eruption and stone men assault had left them physically and mentally exhausted.


    Rhaegar studied the map Robert handed him. They had deviated slightly from their course during the escape, but the markings showed that they were closer to their destination.


    After half a day of sailing, they finally reachednd. The sailor anchored the ship near a reef, and several canoes were lowered into the sea.


    Cannibal snorted, its breath hot and fishy. Rhaegar approached with open arms, soothing the dragon with a gentle touch. "It''s okay, partner," he murmured, rubbing Cannibal''s scales.


    The dragon slowly calmed down, his body rxing in the warm sunlight. "The Smoking Sea bothers you, doesn''t it?" Rhaegar asked quietly.


    Cannibal growled lowly, its eyes shing with disgust. "I understand. Just hold on for two more days," Rhaegar said, recalling simr behavior when he had first tamed the dragon near the toxic swamp.


    Satisfied that Cannibal was settling down, Rhaegar turned his attention to the beach. Mercenaries were pushing back a group of sailors infected with greyscale. Recognizing them as patients from the smuggling ship, Rhaegar ordered, "Drive them away. Thisnd is already a gift to them."


    The mercenariesplied, herding the greyscale patients to a hillside behind the beach. Rhaegar instructed, "Rest here for the night. We depart tomorrow."


    "Yes, my lord," the men replied, grateful for the rest.


    ...


    At noon the next day, the sun shone brightly in a clear azure sky.


    A pitch-ck dragon soared above the sea, its hind legs clutching arge fish, which it tossed into its mouth with a snap of its jaws. Behind the dragon, a three-masted sailing ship slowly entered a narrow tributary.


    On deck, Rhaegar gripped the boom and closed his eyes, letting the sea breeze wash over him.


    After a while, Robert''s excited voice broke the silence. "My lord, the ruins of the Stone Bridge are in sight!"


    Rhaegar opened his eyes and looked ahead. The tributary narrowed, green ridges lining the north and south banks. In the distance, a mass of boulder-strewn ruins came into view.


    The ruins were vast, stretching across the sea for more than ten miles. asionally, remnants of piers jutted out of the water, though the bridge itself had long since copsed. The decaying structures on both sides of the river hinted at a once-great past.


    Seeing the iconic ruins, Rhaegar''s spirits lifted. "Increase our speed. We''re almost there."


    Robert, equally excited, shouted orders to the helmsman and crew. The ship picked up speed, gliding along the coast of the stone bridge ruins.


    As they sailed, a mist began to cover the sea, obscuring their view. Despite the clear sky, Rhaegar sniffed the air and frowned. The mist carried a strong sulfuric odor, mingled with a faint stench. Reflected in the firelight, fine particles could be seen swirling in the mist.


    "Toxic minerals left over from the volcanic eruption," Rhaegar muttered, taking a deep breath. His lungs felt heavy and tight.


    He sensed that the mist might be a reason for the dragon''s restlessness. The miasma of the Smoking Sea contained substances that disturbed the dragon.


    "Prince, we are approaching an unusual jumble of rocks. It may be our destination," Robert said, pulling out a map and swallowing his excitement.


    Reaching their destination meant they were close to returning to the ship. Robert could almost taste therge sum of gold that awaited him, enough to ensure a life offort and leisure.


    "Dock the ship and leave some men to guard it," Rhaegar ordered, his eyes fixed on the distant pile of rocks that could only be described as "magnificent."


    The chaotic pile resembled a mountain of stones, with dark roots of walls peeking out from the rubble and rotting wood.


    The ship docked along the shore, and Rhaegar led fifty mercenaries ashore to make their way toward the pile of rocks.


    They soon found the entrance to the ruins, marked by earlier smugglers. It was a dark cave hidden in the center of the ruins, with only one corner visible. The ground around the mouth of the cave was covered with dirty footprints.


    Rhaegar frowned slightly and selected a few of his best mercenaries. "You men, go down and scout the area."


    "Yes, my lord," the mercenaries replied without hesitation, lighting torches and descending into the cave.


    These were experienced men who valued gold more than their lives, and with Rhaegar and his dragon watching from the outside, they dared not refuse.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibalnded on the ground, its massive feet crushing the pile of rocks beneath him as it sniffed the air cautiously.


    Rhaegar swept the cave entrance with his boots, scanning for any signs of recent activity. Momentster, a few torchlights flickered at the cave mouth, and a mercenary emerged, his forehead glistening with sweat. "My lord, there''s a deep passage in the cave, and some strange things inside."


    Rhaegar''s mind raced. "Leave a group to guard the entrance. The rest follow me."


    The mercenaries who had scouted the cave had reported oddities, but nothing overtly dangerous. It suggested something unusual, but not immediately life-threatening.


    With a firm leap, Rhaegar entered the dark cavern, the mercenaries leading the way. As they ventured deeper, the tunnel gradually widened, and unlike typical underground caves, it was dry, not cold or damp.


    Half an hourter, they encountered the first signs of strangeness.


    Crack��


    A mercenary stepped on a bone, looking down to find a human skeleton d in ancient armor. There were many such skeletons, scattered across the floor.


    "My lord," a mercenary said, handing Rhaegar a piece of breastte he had retrieved.


    Rhaegar held up a torch, illuminating the breastte. Carved on the left chest was the insignia of a roaring lion.


    "Lannister?" Rhaegar murmured, recognizing the emblem instantly. Checking the other skeletons confirmed it: they all bore the Lannister crest.


    Robert examined one bone and remarked, "My Lord, these bones crumble at the slightest touch. They must be very old."


    Rhaegar''s mind drifted to some ancient Lannister legend, but he shook it off. "Let''s move on."


    "Look, My Lord, it''s that thing!" The mercenary scout pointed to a corner of the tunnel, his voice urgent.


    Rhaegar turned to see several different remains, covered in the telltale wounds of grayscale. Their joints were twisted, and foul blood had seeped into the ground.


    "The bodies of Stone Men, and they''re fresh!" Rhaegar''s interest was piqued as he hurried forward to investigate.


    Each of the stone men was skeletal and emaciated, their eyes wide open in death. Dirty blood spurted from their mouths, and their bodies bore fatal wounds to the chest, neck, and skull - clean, round holes that seemed too precise for a spear.


    "This is not spear work," Rhaegar remarked, his eyes narrowing.


    As a skilled spearman, he knew what spear wounds looked like. These wounds were different - smooth,rge, as if pierced by something unnatural. He''d seen simr wounds before, inflicted by the shadow creatures of the Shadowbinders, who attacked with tentacle-like appendages that pierced their victims.


    rmed, Rhaegar ordered, "Keep all the torches burning and light the tunnel as much as possible!


    The bodies of the stone men were fresh, their blood barely dry. The tunnel might harbor unknown creatures, perhaps shadow creatures. Fire would be their best defense against whatevery ahead.

 Chapter 282: Digging Up Dragon Eggs

    Chapter 282: Digging Up Dragon Eggs


    King''s Landing


    Red Keep, King''s Bedchamber


    "Cough, cough, cough..."


    Viserysy on his bed, his face gaunt and pale, each cough wracking his frail body.


    Grand Maester Mellos stood nearby, speaking in a measured tone. "Your Grace, you have contracted a cold. Rest is imperative."


    "I can''t afford to rest; there''s too much to be done." Viserys struggled to suppress another coughing fit, his breathing inbored gasps. "How are the preparations for the tournament? The nobles in the North must be notified. I want an event that will be remembered throughout the seven kingdoms!"


    The tournament was approaching quickly, and Viserys was determined to make it an unprecedented spectacle for his eldest son''s rite of passage.


    "With all due respect, Your Grace, you should leave these matters to the Queen and the Princess," Mellos suggested gently.


    "No! They are women; they cannot grasp the significance of a tournament," Viserys retorted, dismissing the idea without hesitation.


    Mellos sighed and shook his head. "Even so, Your Grace, you must take care of your health. I doubt the prince would want you burdened by mundane concerns."


    Viserys forced a smile through his difort, his thoughts drifting. "Rhaenyra and the girls are back. But Rhaegar... he went to Vntis. What is taking him so long?"


    Rhaenyra had mentioned that Rhaegar''s trip to Vntis was for diplomatic purposes. It had been over two weeks with no word from him, and Viserys couldn''t help but worry.


    "The people of Vntis are known for their hospitality," Mellos said, his tone nomittal. "The prince is likely being treated with great warmth."


    Viserys chuckled weakly. "With the Cannibal at hismand, no one would dare treat him otherwise."


    He had heard the tales of his eldest son''s exploits in the Rivends and wanted to discuss more, but another bout of coughing seized him, leaving him breathless and red-faced.


    "Ahem, I''ll take the medicer. You may leave now," Viserys managed, waving a hand to dismiss the Grand Maester.


    Satisfied that the king''s condition was stable, Mellos gathered his belongings and quietly left the chambers.


    The door closed with a thud, and the sound of coughing echoed from within the chambers. Mellos didn''t return to his attic for rest. Instead, he walked to the open-air promenade of the Red Keep.


    Rhaenyra, dressed in a red gown, sat on a bench, gazing into the distance. At the sound of footsteps, she returned to her senses, clutching a piece of letter paper in her hand.


    "Princess," Mellos greeted with a respectful bow.


    "Thank you, Grand Maester," Rhaenyra responded with a smile.


    "The king''s health is stable, but he mustn''t overexert himself. You need to advise him and share his burdens appropriately," Mellos urged.


    "I will," Rhaenyra promised, then hesitated. "Regarding Rhaegar''s news, do not inform my father yet."


    Rhaegar''s personal letter had arrived from Vntis the previous day. With Viserys preupied with tournament preparations, Mellos had delivered it to Rhaenyra instead. The letter had left her both anxious and annoyed; the Smoking Sea was no ce for a Targaryen to venture. Given her father''s fragile health, she wanted to keep this matter secret to avoid additional stress.


    Mellos understood her concern and didn''t object outright. "The prince wrote that he would return within a month, but the situation is unpredictable," he murmured.


    As a Grand Maester, he knew well the perils of the Smoking Sea. History recorded that even a powerful Dragonlord of the Freehold, with a vast army and a giant dragon, had vanished without a trace after entering those cursed waters. Rhaegar''s journey carried immense risks.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes dropped as she said solemnly, "Rhaegar is not impulsive. He mentioned in his letter that he has maps and the location of the ruins. He will return in time."


    "I hope so. Legendary people often have legendary experiences," Mellos remarked, his expression stoic.


    Since the Conquest, few had achieved true legendary status. Rhaegar''s exploits - taming the King of the Wild Dragons, burning the Three Daughters, reigning briefly as Emperor - were already the stuff of legend for one so young.


    Rhaenyra sighed, rubbing her forehead, and signaled for Mellos to leave. "I''ll keep it a secret," he promised and departed quietly.


    "Rhaegar, you must return soon," Rhaenyra murmured, feeling a deep sense of foreboding. King''s Landing was rife with intrigue, and secrets couldn''t be kept for long. After her recent trip to Storm��s End, she sensed a brewing storm in the court. She needed Rhaegar to quell it.


    Meanwhile, Mellos reached the door of the queen''s chambers. He knocked softly.


    ...


    Smoking Sea, Underground Ruins


    Rhaegar and his party advanced through the dark tunnels, their path lit by dozens of torches. Soon the sound of rushing water reached their ears.


    "Is there a water source?" Rhaegar cocked his head, listening intently.


    Robert whispered, "My lord, there are green nts on the bank. There may be an underground stream."


    "Makes sense. Let''s investigate."


    Leading the way, Rhaegar led the group through the dimly lit tunnel. Eventually, a winding, dark river appeared before them.


    Rhaegar''s gaze bypassed the slightly turbulent river, focusing instead on the jagged ck rocks along its banks. He knelt and touched one of the rocks, feeling its brittle texture. Crushing some of the fragments between his fingers, he sniffed them and detected a sulfurous odor.


    Looking around, Rhaegar noticed that the area around the dark river, including the nearby cave walls, was covered with simr rocks. "This is gray rock from dried magma. There must have been undergroundva flows here once."


    "What about the dark river?" Robert asked, perplexed.


    Rhaegar stood and dusted his hands. "The Doom probably altered the crust, creating this dark river. The cataclysm probably changed the flow of water underground."


    Otherwise, there wouldn''t be tuff in the crypts and the tunnels wouldn''t be so dry.


    With renewed purpose, the group continued downstream along the dark river. ording to the information from the smuggler''s ship, the broken monolith was at the end of the tunnel. The smugglers had been attacked by the stone men and had fled, leaving the relics unexplored.


    As they walked, the crypt gradually widened. The dark stream widened, flowing through channels littered with gray rock. The space opened up, a stark contrast to the ustrophobic tunnels of the past.


    Rhaegar observed his surroundings closely, feeling a sense of familiarity. The crypt reminded him of the Dragonmont on Dragonstone and the underground beneath the Dragonpit.


    Suddenly, a massive w mark appeared on the cave wall. Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as hepared it to the Cannibal''s w marks in his memory.


    "That''s a dragon''s w mark."


    Silently contemting, Rhaegar suspected the relic might have originally been a dragon cave of the Berys family. The w marks on the cave wall were unmistakably made by a dragon, though they were not asrge as the Cannibal''s. They seemed to be from an adult dragon of a size simr to the Red Queen Meleys.


    Caraxes, known for its unique breed with small hind feet and membranous wings, couldn��t have left such deep marks.


    Momentster, the group rounded a corner, moving cautiously and quietly. The sound of ttering stones reached their ears, lifting Rhaegar''s spirits. He signaled the mercenaries with a subtle nod.


    Understanding his intent, the mercenaries slowed their movements and quietly dispersed to either side of the corner, cusses at the ready.


    Rhaegar crept closer to the corner, hiding his torch behind him, and peered inside. His heightened senses allowed him to see in the dim light, a result of his extensive training and powerful mental energy.


    Beyond the corner was an empty crypt. The chert was gone, reced by piles of dark, lumpy matter. Rhaegar recognized it immediately as dried dragon droppings. His experience repairing Harrenhal and handling dragon waste from Dragonstone and King''s Landing made him certain of its nature. Clearly, the dung here was very old.


    His attention was drawn to a corner where the tapping wasing from. A flicker of firelight illuminated a dim area, revealing several slender figures d in ck robes with shaved heads. They wore masks with indecipherable designs.


    One of the ck-robed figures raised an arm and muttered incantations. A long, writhing shadow serpent was wrapped around the arm, its grotesque head repeatedly striking the aged dragon dung, tearing it apart as if searching for something.


    "My lord, they seem to be Shadowbinders from Asshai, using sorcery to manipte shadows," Robert whispered, his voice trembling.


    "Quiet, I recognize them," Rhaegar replied, his face set in a steely expression. He motioned to the mercenaries on either side.


    The Shadowbinders, though formidable, were not invincible. Rhaegar had faced them before, most notably during the bloody shes on the Crab w Penins.


    The mercenaries drew their bows and aimed at the flickering firelight.


    "Release!" Rhaegarmanded.


    Arrows flew through the air, eliciting a few muffled screams from within the crypt. Rhaegar paid no heed to the cries and continued, "Release again!"


    Human or not, anyone caught in the hail of arrows would find no mercy. The arrows rained down until the mercenaries'' quivers were empty. The torches within the crypt had been extinguished in the assault, plunging the area into darkness.


    "Follow me!"


    At Rhaegar''smand, he drew his Dragon w, mes instantly spreading across the de and illuminating the cavern. As a Pyromancer, he had a natural advantage over the Shadowbinders.


    The mercenaries surged forward, torches held high. Several of the ck-robed figuresy motionless, their bodies riddled with arrows, their limbs twitching involuntarily.


    Rhaegar approached the fallen, noting the painted masks each wore. They were indeed Shadowbinders.


    One of the fallen Shadowbinders, still alive, gasped and red at Rhaegar with burning eyes.


    "I... curse..."


    Before he could finish, Rhaegar''s sword descended and severed his head. The severed head rolled to the ground and Rhaegar, not satisfied, stabbed both the head and the body repeatedly, reducing them to ashes with his ming sword.


    "Curse me? You think you''re the God of Death?" Rhaegar sneered, his Dragon w zing and lighting up half the cave.


    "My lord, it appears to be a dragon egg," Robert eximed, his eyes wide with excitement. He crouched in the pile of dragon droppings disturbed by the shadow serpent and held up a grayish dragon egg.


    Rhaegar turned his attention to the egg, his interest piqued.


    Suddenly, a wounded Shadowbinder, pierced by several arrows, lunged at Rhaegar with a low roar. He brandished a conical dagger in his hand, aiming for Rhaegar''s back.


    Rhaegar''s eyes stayed cold and focused. Without turning, he drew his sword and thrust it backward, the de finding its mark with a sickening squeal.


    The Shadowbinder''s advance halted abruptly as the Dragon w pierced his heart. Disbelief filled his eyes as he crumpled to the ground, copsing into the dragon dung.

 Chapter 283: Ancient Dragon Remains

    Chapter 283: Ancient Dragon Remains


    "Sift through the bodies carefully and burn them evenly with fire," Rhaegar ordered, his expression neutral as he flicked the blood from his sword.


    The mercenaries moved quickly, stripping the Shadowbinders of their masks and ck robes with practiced efficiency.


    "My lord, there are so many dragon eggs here!" Robert eximed, excitedly sifting through the pile of dragon droppings.


    Rhaegar picked up a grayish dragon egg and examined it, sighing, "These are dead eggs, petrified."


    He tapped the egg, noting the dull, muffled sound instead of the crisp ring of a viable dragon egg. Robert''s enthusiasm waned as he continued to unearth five fossilized dragon eggs, each one lifeless.


    Rhaegarpared them to the dragon eggs on Dragonstone Ind, confirming that this relic was indeed one of the Berys'' dragonirs. As he pondered its significance, Robert suddenly shouted, "My Lord, there''s a vacancy here! A dragon egg is missing from the dragon droppings!"


    Rhaegar''s heart tightened. "What''s going on?"


    Robert examined the aged dragon droppings and counted six craters where eggs should have been. "One, two... There''s one missing," he said.


    Rhaegar''s mind raced. "The Shadowbinders must have aplices."


    "My lord, we found a flower!" a mercenary reported hesitantly.


    "Search more carefully for lurking dragon eggs," Rhaegar ordered, storing the five petrified dragon eggs in his space bracelet before turning to the mercenaries.


    Dragons were the cornerstone of House Targaryen''s power, and even petrified dragon eggs were too valuable to leave behind.


    As he approached the pile of Shadowbinder corpses, the mercenaries formed a circle and began burning the bodies with their torches. One squad leader held up a strange blue, wilted flower.


    The flower had seven petals, purple stamens, and a soft stem wrapped in dark leaves. "Orchid?" Rhaegar mused, recognizing the nt.


    The squad leader hesitated. "If I''m not mistaken, it should be the Soul Restoring Orchid, which can fetch a high price in Vntis."


    Rhaegar''s eyes brightened slightly at the news. Carefully taking the Soul Restoring Orchid, he smiled. "Well done. This many flowers will bring you wealth."


    He lowered his head and sniffed the nearly withered orchid. Its light, refreshing scent was invigorating, reminiscent of the scented powder of Dae.


    Hearing the mention of money, the junior captain eagerly pulled a piece of parchment from the Shadowbinders'' ck robes and said excitedly, "My Lord, would you look at this and see if it is useful?"


    "You are resourceful," Rhaegar praised, taking the yellowed parchment and examining it for a few moments.


    "My Lord, what do you think?" the junior captain asked expectantly.


    Rhaegar read the small, intricate characters on the parchment twice and frowned. "It''s neither Common Tongue nor Valyrian. I can''t make it out."


    He was familiar with several widespread scripts, but theplex symbols on the parchment were unfamiliar.


    Robert stepped forward, scratching his head. "My lord, this looks like the ancientnguage of Yi Ti."


    "You recognize it?" Rhaegar asked, surprised at the old sailor''s knowledge.


    "No, no, I don''t even recognize native Valyrian," Robert admitted sheepishly. "But one of my former captains was from Yi Ti, and I saw simr symbols on his ship."


    "Never mind. We''ll find someone to trante it when we get out," Rhaegar decided, putting the Soul Restoring Orchid and the parchment away.


    The Soul Restoring Orchid was a precious treasure that could nourish depleted spiritual energy, making it valuable to him and his family.


    After personally burning the bodies of the Shadowbinders, Rhaegar ordered his men to search the cave again. Finding nothing more, they prepared to leave.


    As they walked along the dimly lit, dark river, Robert asked, "Sir, where shall we go next?"


    Having dealt with the immediate threat of the Shadowbinders and found the dragon eggs, Robert was still reeling from the experience.


    . Rhaegar listened to the rushing water and thought rationally. "The caves at the end of the lower river have already been explored. Let''s follow the dark river upstream."


    He suspected that there were other aplices in the ruins besides the dead Shadowbinders. Besides, he was here to uncover the lost legacies of the Berys family, and a few fossilized dragon eggs weren''t worth the risks they''d taken.


    As they made their way upstream, they passed by the tunnels that led in and out of the ruins, continuing to explore the dimly lit underground. The elevation increased, making the current more turbulent. After about an hour, the gray rock beneath their feet disappeared, reced by broken stone bs.


    The firelight illuminated a crushed and deformed open space with cracked bs on all four walls. The sudden change caught everyone''s attention and rmed them.


    Rhaegar''s mind raced as he surveyed the area. "Downstream is the pit of the Dragon Nest. Upstream should be the main body of it."


    Considering the structure of the Dragonpit and the Dragon''s Nest, he hypothesized that this Dragonpit was simr before it was destroyed. From the pile of rocks outside, he estimated it was about the same size as the Dragonpit in King''s Landing.


    "This Dragonpit likely belonged to the Berys family," Rhaegar thought, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the area. "It''s unlikely that something important would be hidden in an unimportant part of the Dragonpit."


    He knew that if there were significant treasures or legacies of the Berys family, they would be found in the heart of the Dragonpit.


    Plop-


    The sound of sshing water broke the silence, stirring the dark current.


    Rhaegar''s eyes darted to the source and he whispered urgently, "Stay alert!"


    A mad roar echoed through the cave as a figure leapt from the dark river and sshed toward the shore.


    "It''s the Stone man! Prepare to attack!" Rhaegar shouted as he recognized the hideous silhouette.


    Ssh, ssh, ssh...


    More sounds of falling water followed, indicating the presence of numerous Stone men emerging from unknown underwater caverns and swarming over the ruins.


    These creatures, with no apparent weaknesses, crawled beast-like on hands and knees, their fierce eyes fixed on the living as they pounced with teeth and ws.


    "Squad one, move up to block! Rotate back!" the squad leader ordered, trying to keep order as the mercenaries formed up.


    Ten men formed a line along the riverbank, their curved swords shing fiercely to keep the Stone men froming ashore and to ensure that the main group could retreat.


    "Grab what you can and go! Don''t get bogged down!" Rhaegar urged, leading the mercenaries upstream.


    No one wanted a protracted battle with the unintelligent, contagious stone men.


    The stone-paved tunnel narrowed, evidence of the room''s tragic copse under pressure.


    Momentster, two dark holes appeared ahead.


    "My Lord, which way?" themander asked, panic in his voice.


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened and his breath quickened as he stared at the two cave entrances.


    Behind them, dozens of Stone men pursued relentlessly, roaring and wing at the mercenaries holding the line, tearing senselessly.


    "Which entrance?" Rhaegar muttered, knowing he had to decide quickly.


    Based on theyout of dragon caves, the two paths likely led to different parts of the upper cave, perhaps to the chaotic pile of rocks outside the ruins. Each path could represent a different area of the Dragonpit��maybe a dragon''sir or a long-buried exit.


    His eyes settled on the right entrance near the dark river, noting arge, gaping hole that appeared to have been smashed open. The edges of the gap were scorched ck, as if by fire.


    "This way!" Rhaegar decided.


    Rhaegar pointed to the hole on the right and charged forward, torch in hand. He had a theory about the scorched ckness around the edges of the rift.


    It wasn''t caused by dragon mes or moltenva, but by the friction of dragon scales scraping the rock as they fled. The scales of adult dragons were as hard as iron, capable of generating high temperatures under violent impact.


    Rhaegar had seen the w marks of an adult dragon before, and he believed that this gaping hole was its work as well.


    During the Doom, the dragon, trapped in the Dragonpit, fought to escape, driven by sheer survival instinct. The route it took likely led to the usual exit used for flight.


    Whether the exit still existed or not didn''t matter to Rhaegar. He wanted to follow the dragon''s path, hoping it would lead to an opportunity.


    "Quickly! Block the entrance!" he ordered.


    The group hurried through the hole on the right and themander ordered the remaining mercenaries to block the entrance with rubble, ignoring the screams and growls from outside.


    "Let us in!" "Roar!"


    As the rubble piled up, muffling the sounds of battle, Rhaegar nced back, but did not stop. The mercenaries blocking the stone men were already infected with grayscale. It was better they died quickly now than slowly from the disease.


    "Keep moving! The cave isn''t that deep!" Rhaegar urged, touching the damp stone bs.


    Soon the narrow passage opened into a massive cave filled with debris.


    Water trickled from cracks in the rocks above, flowing into a deep spring that joined the dark river. Ignoring the strangendscape, Rhaegar''s eyes were drawn to a chaotic pile of rocks that formed a small mountain.


    Beneath the rubble and dirty the bleached bones of a massive creature - curved dragon horns, sharp ws, broken wings.


    Rhaegar gasped, lost in thought. "The dragon of House Berys!"

 Chapter 284: Binding Spell

    Chapter 284: Binding Spell


    Staring nkly at the remains of the dragon, Rhaegar felt a wave of disappointment wash over him. "It didn''t escape; it died," he murmured. The loss weighed heavily on him, as he cherished the life of every dragon. This one hadn''t perished in glorious battle or peacefully at the end of its life, but had instead been trapped and crushed in the copse of the Dragonpit. Such an ignoble end felt unworthy of any adult dragon in Rhaegar''s eyes.


    "My lord, there''s another passage in the corner of the cave," an alert mercenary reported.


    Rhaegar descended from the giant dragon''s remains, his expression t. "Got it. Scout it out and report back."


    The dragon''s remainsy near a deep pool, its pitch-ck tail bones trailing into the water. Rhaegar nimbly climbed up the rubble,ing face to face with the dragon''s skull, its fangs interlocked in a final grimace. This dragon, in life, might have resembled Vermithor or Meleys, with a crown of dense horns and bone spurs protruding from its cervical vertebrae.


    Rhaegar reached out and touched the hideous skull, hoping to trigger some sort of explorer''s quest. He waited, but no familiar beep sounded in his ears. Disappointed, he withdrew his hand. A dragon''s remains without reputation seemed insufficient to unlock relic exploration.


    "Pity," Rhaegar muttered,paring the size of the dragon''s head with his hands. If circumstances allowed, he would have liked to cut off the cervical vertebrae and bring the dragon''s head back to King''s Landing for his collection. The skull was enormous, asrge as a small bedroom, and would require seven or eight people to encircle it fully.


    Momentster, the mercenary who had scouted ahead returned in haste. "My lord, I found a ck-robed man!" he eximed eagerly.


    Rhaegar abandoned his thoughts of taking the dragon''s head and asked urgently, "Are you sure it''s a Shadowbinder?"


    "Seems so. Cloaked in ck robes and wearing acquered red mask," the mercenary replied, gulping nervously.


    "Lead the way. No Shadowbinders can be spared," Rhaegar ordered, drawing the Dragon w sword at his waist. Shadowbinders of Asshai, always traveled with mysterious purpose.


    Their presence in these ruins was no coincidence��it involved the Dragonlord''s legacy, and outsiders could not be allowed to uncover its secrets.


    Rhaegar led the way, over thirty mercenaries following close behind with torches. They had already lost a dozen men to a round of attacks by the Stone men. As they entered the passageway within the stone wall, the cave fell into another deathly silence.


    Suddenly, the deep pool rippled, creating a series of waves that cast a shadow over the entire pool, adding anotheryer of ominous tension to the scene.


    ...


    On the other side, Rhaegar advanced through the passageway, the faint sound of rushing water echoing in his ears. "There''s a dark river at the end," he thought silently.


    After a few more steps, a dim light appeared ahead. He signaled the mercenaries to slow down, their footsteps quieting. As they reached the edge of the passageway, a burst of unintelligible, almost demonic whispers filled the air.


    Outside the passagey a stone pce reminiscent of the Dragonpit hall. The pce walls had been crushed and deformed by external forces, with intricate patterns barely visible beneath the dust. Several stone pirs supported the structure, though half were broken, and the copsed roof revealed patches of soil.


    The floor was cracked down the center, forming a deep chasm leading to the shattered wall''s rear, where the sound of flowing water came from a tributary of the dark river.


    A slim figure in ck robes and a red-painted mask stood with his back to the passageway, facing an intact stone wall. He muttered odd incantations under his breath.


    Rhaegar ignored the strange sounds, focusing instead on the Shadowbinder''s withered hands raised above his head. In one hand, he held a green dragon egg, smeared with dragon dung; in the other, a yellowed parchment booky open.


    As the Shadowbinder chanted, the parchment stirred as if blown by an unseen wind, and a wisp of ck smoke emerged, enveloping the stone wall. "There''s definitely something here," Rhaegar thought, his eyes flicking between the dragon egg and the wall.


    From his distance, he couldn''t discern many details about the dragon egg, which looked much like the fossilized eggs he had excavated earlier. The carvings on the stone wall, however, shocked him deeply. The pattern began with fourteen mes, followed by a group of shepherds and a dragon.


    The carvings, divided into sections by cuts in the stone, depicted history in a blend of images and High Valyrian text.


    Rhaegar could clearly read the top few words: "Berys... Dragon Taming... Binding Spell..."


    Thoughts raced through Rhaegar''s mind as a glint of realization shed in his eyes. During his youth, educated by the maesters of the Citadel, he had encountered many spections about ancient Valyria, particrly the Dragonlords'' methods for taming dragons.


    The maesters deduced from sparse ancient texts that the Dragonlords possessed some form of magic, referred to in the texts as the "binding spell," whichpelled dragons to obey theirmands.


    Rhaegar had delved into the knowledge from the "Berys" family''s ancient books, which hinted at the existence of a "dragon''s horn" and vaguely referenced the "binding spell."


    The Berys family was a prominent Dragonlord house, known for their mastery of powerful magical spells and artifacts. The Targaryens, however, had never reached such heights of power.


    Taking a deep breath, Rhaegar suppressed his excitement and resolved, "Whether true or not, I must obtain the binding spell." The Targaryen dragons were not yet numerous or powerful enough to subdue Westeros and Essos. With the binding spell, the Targaryens could potentially revive the glory of a top Dragonlord family.


    "Do we have any arrows left?" Rhaegar whispered.


    Themander behind him hastily handed over two arrows, saying, "My lord, we''ve used most of our arrows. These are the only ones left."


    Rhaegar epted them, confident. "It''s enough," he said. Proficient in swordsmanship, spearmanship, and archery, Rhaegar knew he could make the shots count.


    Moving stealthily, he nocked an arrow and drew his longbow, aiming at the defenseless Shadowbinder. A direct confrontation was unwise; striking from behind was the best strategy.


    Crunch...


    The drawing of the bow made a strange sound, causing the Shadowbinder to turn violently. Behind his red-painted mask, he shouted, "Who''s there?"


    Whoosh-


    The bowstring released and the iron-tipped arrow shot out with deadly speed. The Shadowbinder couldn''t react in time and took the arrow right in the chest, the force throwing him against the stone wall.


    "Kill him!" Rhaegar ordered, his voice cold. He drew his remaining arrow and fired.


    The mercenaries rushed forward, swords drawn, toward the Shadowbinder pinned against the wall.


    Ahem...


    The Shadowbinder slumped to the ground, blood seeping from beneath his mask, his eyes filled with resentment. "The Lord of Light will not forgive you. You all deserve to die," he spat, smearing the blood on his mask.


    A second arrow flew toward the Shadowbinder''s head. But just as it was about to strike, the rope holding the mask snapped. Shadows rose from the ground, wrapped around the mask, and lifted it into the air.


    The next moment, the shadow transformed into a humanoid figure,plete with a red mask.


    ng-


    The Shadow drew a heavy greatsword from the Shadowbinder''s grasp and sliced through the arrow.


    "An abomination!"


    "Beware, it''s Shadow Sorcery!"


    The mercenaries stopped, fear gripping them. Magic had been a rarity since the Doom, and this sudden appearance of evil sorcery stunned them.


    "Don''t run!" Rhaegar shouted, dropping his longbow and stepping forward. He ignited his sword by rubbing it against a torch, mes enveloping the de. "Kill the Shadowbinder!"


    Inspired by their leader''s bravery, the mercenaries rallied, brandishing their swords and surrounding the shadow and its master. The Shadowbinder, weakened by summoning the shadow, cowered under his robes.


    "Kill him!" roared themander, charging.


    Suddenly, the shadow moved with uncanny speed, slicing through themander''s neck. Blood sprayed as his head fell.


    The shadow continued its deadly dance, cutting down mercenaries who dared approach.


    "Use your torches! The shadow fears fire!" Rhaegar shouted.


    The mercenaries gathered, waving their torches. The shadow recoiled, shielding its mask with its greatsword.


    "Where do you think you''re going?" Rhaegar bellowed, rushing in with his ming sword. He shed at the shadow, and it stiffened under the firelight.


    Pff��


    Rhaegar''s de sliced through the shadow��s waist, splitting it in two.


    "Die!" he cried, stabbing thecquered red mask. mes erupted, consuming the mask and the shadow.


    Sizzle...


    Thecquered red mask burned to ashes, and the shadow melted into a puddle before evaporating.


    Rhaegar sheathed his sword, his eyes cold. "Arrest the Shadowbinder. I will interrogate him personally."


    "Yes, my lord," the mercenaries responded, dragging the Shadowbinder away.


    The mercenaries hurried to capture the Shadowbinder, who had lost the ability to resist. Rhaegar''s eyes fell on the heavy greatsword. Its de was cold, adorned with water-like patterns, and the hilt, cast in gold, ended in a lion''s head.

 Chapter 285: Valyrian Steel Sword – Brightroar

    Chapter 285: Valyrian Steel Sword �C Brightroar


    "Valyrian steel?" Rhaegar muttered, nting Dragon w on the ground as he bent down to pick up the heavy sword.


    The water ripple pattern on the de was unmistakable��a hallmark of Valyrian steel. This sword��s ability to slice through iron with ease meant he had stumbled upon a valuable treasure.


    "The quest mission is activated. The target is the Valyrian Steel Sword - Brightroar," a system beep announced in his ears as soon as he touched the hilt.


    Rhaegar��s eyes widened in astonishment. "Brightroar?"


    He had heard tales of Brightroar''s legendary past. This Valyrian steel greatsword had once been the ancestral weapon of House Lannister.


    Before Aegon��s Conquest, Westeros was divided among seven warring kingdoms. A century before the Doom of Valyria, House Lannister purchased Brightroar at an immense cost. It was said the gold spent on the sword could have raised an army.


    King Tommen IIter led a fleet of golden ships on an expedition to the ruined Valyria, taking with him the famed Brightroar. The fleet vanished after resupplying at Vntis, never to be seen again. Despite numerous attempts to locate them, neither Tommen II nor Brightroar was ever found.


    "Tsk, a long-lost Valyrian steel greatsword, now mine," Rhaegar mused, a smile curling his lips as he admired the sword.


    He activated the system panel.


    [Brightroar]


    Exploration Progress: 0.3%


    Sheathing the heavy sword, Rhaegar secured it with a rope and slung it over his back, ensuring that nothing would interrupt his exploration.


    Thump...


    He patted the sword, unable to suppress his grin. The Lannisters had long sought to reim Brightroar, hoping it would restore their family''s former glory. But now, the sword belonged to him.


    Rhaegar nced at the lion''s head carved into the hilt and mused, "I��ll have the cksmiths of Qohor reforge it."


    Though Brightroar had once belonged to the Lannisters, it was now his.


    And now, it bore the name Targaryen.


    "My lord, there''s something wrong with the Shadowbinder."


    Two mercenaries approached, dragging the limp body of the Shadowbinder, their faces etched with fear.


    Rhaegar''s smile faded. "Let me see."


    The Shadowbinder had taken an arrow to the chest, and his ck robe was soaked with blood, which dripped steadily onto the floor. A mercenary, suppressing his revulsion, pulled back the hood, revealing the man''s face.


    Rhaegar recoiled slightly. The Shadowbinder��s face was stripped of skin, exposing raw, bloody tissue beneath. His eye sockets held tethered, blood-covered eyeballs, which twitched grotesquely. Despite his horrific condition, the Shadowbinder was still alive, his throat emitting a ghastly, rasping sound as he drooled.


    "My lord, he seems to have gone mad," the mercenary said hesitantly.


    Rhaegar looked away after a moment, then ordered, "Give me the dragon egg and the parchment book."


    The Shadowbinder was no longer of any use for interrogation. This grotesque state was likely the price of summoning the shadow. Such dark sorcery would undoubtedlye with a terrible curse.


    The mercenaries dragged the incapacitated Shadowbinder away and handed over the green dragon egg and the parchment book.


    Rhaegar��s eyes gleamed as he held the dragon egg. He examined it closely, his mind racing.


    "It''s alive!" he thought, his heart pounding. "This dragon egg is still viable."


    The egg was green, covered in scale patterns, and stained with dragon dung. Outwardly, it seemed no different from the fossilized eggs he had found earlier. But Rhaegar had touched many dragon eggs, and with his Pyromancer talent, he could sense its potential for hatching.


    Blowing off the dragon dung, Rhaegar felt a surge of excitement. The Targaryens had plenty of dragon eggs, many unhatched and hidden on Dragonstone Ind. However, this green egg from the Berys family, retrieved from the Smoking Sea, was special.


    "Maybe it can hatch," he thought, determined to incubate it at high temperature back at the dragon''s nest.


    He carefully tore a piece of fabric from his coat, wrapped the egg, and tied it to his belt. An active dragon egg couldn��t be stored in his space bracelet; he had to keep it with him.


    Suppressing his excitement, Rhaegar turned his attention to the stone wall while leafing through the parchment book.


    The walls were adorned with various patterns and inscriptions in High Valyrian. Rhaegar studied the designs, which depicted the rise of Valyria and the history of the Berys family. But the most valuable part was the text on the front stone wall.


    "The Dragonpit ... The Art of Taming Dragons ... Flying ..."


    Rhaegar tranted the inscriptions on the stone wall with great care. He was certain now��this relic was indeed a Dragonpit of the Berys family.


    ording to the text, this Dragonpit was a private property of the Berys family in the Land of the Long Summer, used to temporarily house dragons. There were two significant magical elements associated with the Dragonpit.


    The first was the broken stone tablet at the entrance of the ruins. This tablet was a magical monolith, inscribed with a spell to pacify the dragons and prevent agitation. The second was the stone wall before him, which did not possess inherent magic but recorded a "binding spell" specialized in taming dragons��or rather, a part of it.


    This binding spell originated with the first families of dragonlords. The sages had used the Valyriannguage and blood sorcery to create a spell that would better control dragons. The stone wall documented three crucial keywords of the binding spell, paired with various techniques for mastering dragons.


    "Forbidden Magic Spell..." Rhaegar murmured, eyes gleaming with desire as he swept the dust from the stone wall. The three keywords were "flying," "dragon me," and "forbidden," symbolizing the taming,manding, and pacifying of dragons, respectively.


    The Fly spell helped the tamer reach and tame the dragon. The Dragon me spell contained offensive techniques used in war and dragonbat. The Forbidding spell, which could also be tranted as "Landing," "Silence," or "Submission," had the effect of calming the dragon, ensuring obedience, and fostering a bond.


    The stone wall featured keywords for the "Forbidding" spell, essential for every Berys family member to skillfully use to guard their dragons. This was why the forbidden spell was engraved on the stone wall of the Dragonpit.


    "Now it''s mine," Rhaegar thought joyfully,mitting the spell to memory.


    He had risked exploring the Smoking Sea precisely for this inherited knowledge. With the forbidden magic spell, the Targaryens would better manage their dragons, avoiding the dangers of losing control.


    After memorizing the spell, Rhaegar turned his attention to the parchment book. It was filled with a dense script and strange scribbles. On thest page, he found text in High Valyrian.


    Recognizing it as a replication of the forbidden magic spells from the stone wall, he tore the page out and burned it to ashes with a torch. He then stowed the parchment book in his space bracelet, suspecting it contained other valuable knowledge.


    "Too bad there wasn''t time to figure out how the Shadowbinders found the ruins," Rhaegar thought, his eyes shing with resolve. He instructed the mercenaries, "Kill the Shadowbinders and burn the bodies."


    It didn''t matter if he couldn''t discover their methods; he needed to eliminate the threatpletely. The Shadowbinder''s magic was too dangerous to leave any traces.


    "Yes, my lord," the mercenaries responded, swiftly slitting the Shadowbinder''s throat and igniting the bodies with torches and kerosene.


    Without a backward nce, Rhaegar drew the Valyrian steel sword Brightroar from his back, twirling it skillfully.


    Dangkang--


    The heavy sword struck the stone wall, scattering small pieces of carvings. Rhaegar''s eyes were sharp and focused as he swung the sword tirelessly, erasing the parts of the text that described the binding spell. This dragon-taming magic was a secret the Targaryens alone should possess. There was no need to leave any trace for others to discover.


    After several powerful swings, Rhaegar stopped. The Shadowbinder''s body had burned to a crisp.


    "Let us move. We have a hard fight ahead of us!"


    Rhaegar secured Brightroar and left the great hall, carrying his torch and Dragon w. He hadn''t forgotten the Stone men waiting outside.


    ...


    The group exited the great hall, traversed the underground cavern, and re-entered the cave they hade from. No one noticed the thick, smoke-like substance seeping from the charred corpse of the Shadowbinder. It burrowed into the floor, moving like an inconspicuous mouse, and eventually dived into the pool of water in the underground cave.


    tter...


    The pool of water trembled violently, sshing in all directions like boiling water before calming down.


    ...


    At the same time, Rhaegar''s shout echoed through the ruins, "Charge, don''t get stuck in the fight!"


    His Dragon w wrapped in mes, Rhaegar led the charge. The stone men were quickly dispersed, roaring as they chased the mercenaries. A ray of light shone ahead��the exit was close.


    Rhaegar licked his dry lips and shouted, "The exit is just around the corner!"


    He stomped on the cave wall under the exit and, with a powerful leap, emerged from the ruins. The dimness vanished, reced by the foggy sky.


    Rhaegar looked up, gasping slightly. Soon, mercenaries followed, emerging from the cave as stone men roared and tugged below. After about a dozen mercenaries had escaped, the stone men blocked the hole, pouncing on the remainingggards.


    "Roar..."


    A pitch-ck dragon hovered in midair,nding slowly. It spewed ghostly green dragon me into the cave entrance, where screams echoed.


    "Ah..."


    The dragon me spread rapidly, enveloping the ruins in a ghostly green hue. Screams and hisses filled the air. The surrounding rocks melted into magma, sealing the cave entrancepletely.


    "Well done, Cannibal," Rhaegar said, sitting down heavily and letting out a long breath.

 Chapter 286: Sea Monster Attack

    Chapter 286: Sea Monster Attack


    "Roar..."


    With the danger resolved, Cannibal raised its head proudly, wisps of dragon me escaping its maw. Seeing this, Rhaegar chuckled, "Well done, partner."


    As Rhaegar and his dragon shared a moment, the mercenaries who had narrowly escapedy sprawled on the rocky ground, paralyzed with exhaustion.


    "My lord, we should get moving."


    Several mercenaries, vignt and back-to-back, kept an eye on the entrance to the ruins while ncing at their wearyrades.


    "Agreed." Rhaegar understood the urgency in their tone. He forced his tired body to move, distancing himself from the ruins.


    Mercenaries had their own harsh rules of survival, and he didn''t need to interfere. For a while, mournful wails echoed from the direction they hade.


    When they regrouped on the shore, only seven or eight mercenaries remained, besides the few who had been keeping watch. One had an arm severed, another had lost his left calf. The rest were mostly unharmed, aside from their tattered leather armor.


    Rhaegar remained silent as they paddled their canoes back to the sailboats waiting at sea. He knew that the mercenaries left behind were likely infected with greyscale. Those who had amputated limbs were only buying time, hoping the disease wouldn''t spread further.


    ...


    As the night wore on, the sea''s winds and waves grew fiercer, the gusts carrying a mournful cry like that of a lost woman. The sailboat rocked back and forth, the deck torches flickering in the dim light.


    In the captain''s cabin, Rhaegary in a false sleep, his body gently rocking with the ship. He cradled a green dragon egg in his left arm and held the heavy Brightroar sword in his right.


    "Roar..." Cannibal''s roar echoed as the sailboat sailed away from the ruins. At dawn, sunlight pierced through thin clouds and fog, bringing a hint of warmth. After a tumultuous night, the sailboat emerged from the smoky sea into a clearer sky.


    "My lord, the ruins of the stone bridge are ahead. We should be out of the Smoking Sea in two days," Robert said excitedly, clutching the charts.


    Protected by the mercenaries, Robert had emerged unscathed from the previous day''s ordeal and was eager to continue his duties.


    "Got it," Rhaegar replied, rubbing his forehead wearily. "Inform everyone that their pay will be increased by thirty percent when we return to Vntis."


    The fierce winds and waves of the night had exhausted him.


    "Understood," Robert grinned, his single eye gleaming as he set to work.


    Soon the ship was filled with the joyous chatter of the mercenaries. The promise of a greater reward lifted their spirits and dispelled the fears of the previous night.


    With dark circles under his eyes, Rhaegar leaned against the railing, enjoying the early morning sun. The sessful exploration of the ruins had made him feel generous to his hired men.


    Time passed slowly as the sailboat drifted toward the ruins of the stone bridge. Rhaegar remained still, savoring an orange and remarking, "I feel much better after a short rest."


    Under the clear sky, he nced asionally at the approaching ruins and felt a growing sense of calm.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal''s sudden roar broke the tranquility. Its dark wings beat furiously as it hovered in the air.


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened at the warning. He stood up, scanning the horizon. His expression shifted as he saw whaty ahead.


    As the sailboat neared the stone bridge ruins, a horde of terrifying stone men emerged from the north and south sides, their bodies covered in gray scales. Most were bare-chested, their eyes wild with hunger, yelling as they crowded along the shore.


    Just as the sailboat approached, they prepared to swarm.


    "My lord, what should we do?" the squad leader asked, his face pale and slick with sweat.


    The mercenaries'' leader had died the previous day at the hands of the Shadowbinders, leaving the deputy leader in charge.


    "Hold your ground. It''s just a bunch of Stone men," Rhaegar replied, trying to mask his own unease at the sight of so many of them.


    Rhaegar surveyed the north and south coasts, estimating there were at least three hundred Stone men gathered in groups. He sighed inwardly; this was an unexpected obstacle.


    "My lord, the sailboat will soon arrive at the Stone Bridge Ruins," the deputy leader said, his voice taut with anxiety as the eerie roars of the Stone men filled the air.


    The sixty battle-hardened mercenaries on board could handle a fight against a few hundred men, but these weren''t ordinary men. The Stone men, once human, were now monstrous carriers of gray scale disease, and even a scratch from them could be fatal.


    Rhaegar understood their fear. "Maintain formation and use arrows to keep the Stone men from boarding. We have a dragon."


    "Roar..." Cannibal sensed its rider''s resolve, its green eyes gleaming as it hovered above the ship.


    "Dracarys!" Rhaegarmanded.


    As the sailboat neared the ruins, Cannibal swooped low and unleashed ghostly green dragonfire. The fire engulfed the southern bank of the stone bridge, reducing hundreds of Stone men to ash.


    "Prepare to draw your bows!" shouted the squad leader, strengthened by the dragon''s power.


    The surviving Stone men, now frenzied, leapt into the sea and swam towards the sailboat. Rhaegar remainedposed. "Dracarys!" he ordered again.


    Cannibal pivoted and directed its mes at the north shore, incinerating Stone men both onnd and in the water. Despite the dragon''s efforts, a few Stone men managed to cling to the hull of the ship, using their sharp nails to climb.


    The mercenaries fired arrows at the climbers, managing to keep most of them at bay. The situation seemed under control until a sudden burst of firelight appeared on the hazy sea more than ten miles away.


    Rumble-


    The ground shook violently, sending ripples through the seawater and causing the sailboat to rock uncontrobly.


    " Everyone, prepare yourselves!" Rhaegar shouted, struggling to keep his bnce. He barely managed to stay upright as several mercenaries were thrown from the deck by the sudden tremor.


    The stone men in the sea seized the opportunity and pounced on the fallen mercenaries with ferocious intensity.


    Rhaegar clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. "Damn it!"


    He looked up to see a bright red me shoot into the sky in the distance, exploding like fireworks. "A volcanic eruption," he muttered, watching the magma pour into the sea, sending up plumes of smoke.


    The undersea volcano was dangerously close to the ruins of the stone bridge, and the situation was rapidly deteriorating.


    "Helmsman, turn the helm! We have to get out of here, now!" Rhaegar ordered.


    The volcanic danger spread quickly. The air grew thick with acrid smoke, and the temperature of the seawater rose, making it difficult to breathe.


    Despite the imminent danger, the Stone Men continued their assault, climbing onto the sailboat. The mercenaries, struggling to keep their footing, found it increasingly difficult to fend them off with their arrows.


    "Roar!" Cannibal, sensing the chaos, pped his wings furiously, sending gusts of wind and indiscriminate bursts of dragon me at the Stone Men in the sea.


    Some of the Stone Men managed to climb onto the deck andunched frenzied attacks on the mercenaries.


    "Do not panic! Follow me and fight off the Stone Men!" Rhaegar shouted, drawing Dragon w from his waist and decapitating a Stone Man with one swift blow.


    The seawater began to boil, bubbling with hot water and steam. Suddenly, a shadow emerged from the raging sea and moved quickly toward the slowly moving sailboat. Vaguely, several soft, vine-like limbs could be seen twisting and reaching out.


    On the deck, Rhaegar raised his sword and sliced a Stone Man through the chest, sending him crashing back into the sea. Just as he was about to face another, a cold shiver ran down his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.


    "Something''s wrong!" Rhaegar''s heart skipped a beat as he instinctively searched for the source of the danger. The Smoking Sea was notorious for harboring all manner of demons and devils, so he knew he had to be extra vignt.


    With a sudden crack, a crimson limb shot out of the sea,shing out like a whip.


    "Roar!" Cannibal roared furiously, spewing a stream of dragonfire.


    Man and dragon were in perfect sync. Reading Cannibal''s intent instantly, Rhaegar stepped back, twisting to protect himself with the Dragon ws. A thick, soft limb came down and tried to crush him.


    Bang! The impact was tremendous. Rhaegar raised his sword to block the blow, but he was thrown backward, mming into the solid wooden hatch of the cabin.


    In the next moment, Cannibal swooped down and unleashed a torrent of dragonfire that scorched the surface of the sea. The water boiled and churned under the eerie green fire, revealing a massive shadow.


    "Sea monster! A legendary Kraken!" Robert, cowering in a corner, shouted in horror, staring at the colossal creature with limbs tens of meters long. This was no ordinary monster but a giant squid, a true terror of the deep sea.


    House Greyjoy of the Iron Inds had a golden krakenas their emblem, a nod to this very creature.


    Rhaegar coughed violently, his body heaving. Hey amidst the rubble of the shattered hatch, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His skin was covered in ayer of green scales, as if he were possessed by a dragon.


    "It hurts!" Rhaegar groaned, struggling to get up as his body spasmed uncontrobly. He managed to roll over and looked down, his eyes widening in fear.


    From his neck down to his corbone, left chest, and side waist, the bronze scales manifested by ancient runes were shattered inrge areas. The overall glow was dim, indicating the severity of the blow he had taken.

 Chapter 287: Flaming Red Heart

    Chapter 287: ming Red Heart


    "That was close."


    Rhaegar gasped in pain, his body aching as he surveyed the sorry state of his bronze runes. The massive, whip-like limbs had struck with such force that only the protection of his Dragon w sword and bronze runes had kept him from being pulverized.


    Shaking, Rhaegar slowly rose to his feet, his hand instinctively reaching for his waist. "Where is the Dragon w?" he muttered, looking around. All he saw were splinters of wood.


    "Damn, it must have been knocked away," he realized. Just before the tentacle struck, he had used Dragon w to shield himself, but the impact had knocked it out of his grasp.


    Coughing up blood, Rhaegar gritted his teeth and pulled his heavy sword, Brightroar, from his back. He had dropped the sword in his dazed sleep the night before, but fortunately it was still strapped to his back.


    "Roar..." Cannibal roared continuously, its pitch-ck wings spanning like a dark canopy. It unleashed torrents of ghostly green dragonfire.


    The sea monster clung to the sailboat, its crimson skin impervious to the dragonfire. The mes only ckened its flesh and gave off a pungent, burnt smell.


    "Heh, smells like dinner," Rhaegar muttered bitterly, staggering into a corner to take cover. His right hand glowed darkly, wisps of ck smoke coalescing into a small, eyeless ck serpent. It curled around his neck, sucking in the smoke.


    Rhaegar''s breathing wasbored and his body throbbed with pain. The green scales had shielded him from critical damage, but the shock and impact had still damaged his bones and organs.


    "Come on, little one," he urged the serpent, coughing and clutching his side. The serpent rune he had mastered could heal most injuries, given time.


    Meanwhile, the sea monster, overwhelmed by the dragonfire, began to retreat. Its tentacles iled wildly, whipping the deck and causing chaos. Stone men and mercenaries were caught in the onught, their bodies reduced to pulp, blood spurting everywhere, feeding the creature''s rage.


    After several agonizing minutes, Rhaegar''s strength began to return. His face was still pale, but he was no longer coughing and his movements were more fluid.


    "Cannibal, pull it out of the sea!" he ordered, running out of his corner. His eyes were fixed on the boiling sea, his determination unwavering despite the lingering pain.


    Cannibal responded immediately, diving and grasping the creature with its ws. The struggle was fierce, but the dragon''s power began to pull the monstrous squid from the depths.


    Rhaegar''s breath was steady now, and he gripped Brightroar tightly. The serpent rune had done its job, restoring enough of his strength to fight. He couldn''t help but marvel at the power of the advanced runes, knowing that their full potential had yet to be realized.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal, initially consumed by rage, gradually regained its senses and heeded its rider''smands. Its massive form descended, casting a shadow over the nearby sea and plunging the surroundings into an instant darkness.


    As it glided, its ws dipped into the seawater, seizing the crimson sea monster lurking beneath. The sea monster, terrified, wrapped its soft limbs around the dragon''s ck ws and silently roared with its gaping, fang-filled maw.


    Rumble--


    At that moment, a distant underwater volcano erupted once more, sending mes skyward. The Cannibal''s green vertical pupils gleamed with cruelty as it lifted the sea monster from the water, pping its wings.


    The sea monster''s torso, nearly asrge as the dragon''s head, was encircled by its thick, intimidating limbs. With a fierce grip, the Cannibal hoisted the creature like a rag doll and began tearing it apart mid-air with its ws.


    Rip!


    The sound of flesh and bone tearing filled the air as the sea monster was torn in half. Its limbs, strained to their limits, snapped under the dragon''s immense strength.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal''s fury found release as it roared into the sky, spewing Dragonfire onto its ws. The mes consumed the still-writhing sea monster, its body shrieking as it burned.


    Driven mad by pain, the sea monster''s crimson skin glowed darkly as it bit down on one of the dragon''s ws. The Cannibal shook it off, climbed higher, and incinerated the creature with another st of Dragonfire.


    Rhaegar stood on the deck, watching the erupting volcano and feeling the temperature rise. He swung his sword, cutting down a Stone men that had rushed at him, and moved towards the deck''s edge. The sea churned like boiling water.


    "We need to leave now," Rhaegar muttered urgently. "That underwater volcano is too close. If we stay, we''re in serious trouble."


    Volcanic eruptions were no joke, and the ash could spread for hundreds of miles. The sailboat was only a dozen miles away. One bad move, and theva could hit them directly.


    Ssh!


    The sea monster''s remains fell from the sky, crashing into the sea and raising enormous waves. Rhaegar''s eyes widened as he quickly got down.


    The waves mmed against the sailboat, sweeping Stone men and mercenaries into the sea. The force knocked them unconscious, and the boiling water ensured a swift end.


    Rhaegar held onto the railing, drenched but unharmed. The bronze runes on his back protected him from the impact.


    St!


    As he stood up, a soft crimson limb emerged from the sea andtched onto the sailboat. Rhaegar looked up to see the sea monster''s remaining half clinging to the deck, its limb writhing.


    "Damnation!"


    Rhaegar''s face hardened. He gripped Brightroar and stepped forward quickly. The sea monster, clinging to the sailboat, couldn''t be attacked with Dragonfire, but his sword would suffice.


    His Pyromancer talent surged, mes enveloping his body, and Brightroar seemed to roar with the fury of a lion. With a cold smile, Rhaegar rushed to the sea monster''s writhing limb and swung his sword violently.


    Plop!


    Rhaegar''s sword fell, severing the sea monster''s thick, soft limbs. Blue, fishy blood sttered everywhere.


    Rhaegar stepped back quickly, watching the severed limb writhe as the rest of the sea monster''s bodyy limp on the deck.


    "A sea monster is no match for a dragon!" he roared, raising his sword high and driving the point down swiftly.


    Another jet of foul-smelling blood erupted as the sword pierced the sea monster''s mouth, churning the soft flesh inside.


    As Rhaegar tried to pull the sword free, the sea monster''s fangs mped down and held it in ce.


    Without hesitation, Rhaegar summoned a ten-foot spear into his right hand. The spearhead, a foot-long de forged from Valyrian steel, glowed with a cold light.


    "Sneaking up on me, are you? Go to hell!" he growled, ignoring the writhing mass beneath him. He gripped the shaft of the spear with both hands and thrust it forcefully into the sea monster''s mouth.


    Rhaegar remembered tales from the Iron Inds that said a sea monster''s weaknessy in its mouth, connected to its respiratory and nervous systems. A strike there could cause instant copse.


    The sea monster struggled desperately under the attack, ck water bubbling from its crimson skin. But its struggles soon faded.


    The broken limbs fell limp, twitching weakly. Its torso deted, and azure blood gushed from its mouth.


    "Haha! I finally got it," Rhaegar grinned, his chest heaving. He retrieved his sword and spear, then sat down on the slippery corpse.


    "The quest mission is open��the target is the cursed sea monster," the Explorar System announced as he touched the sea monster''s skin, triggering a system beep in his ears.


    Rhaegar froze, then called up the system panel.


    [Cursed Sea Monster


    Exploration Progress: 0.5%]


    Stunned, he ran his hand over the sea monster''s slimy surface. "It was a magical creature?" he mused. But something didn''t seem right.


    The quest emphasized "cursed."


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as he noticed ck slime oozing from the sea monster''s body. He stood and poked at the slime with hisnce. A familiar image came to mind, surprising him. "The Shadowbinder''s Curse?"


    He ignited thence and set the ck slime on fire. It burned with a crackling sound, incinerating the slime and even drying the sea monster''s blood.


    "It''s really tough to deal with," Rhaegar sighed, satisfied. "But it should be fine now."


    With the sea monster dead and the ck slime burned away, even the most potent curse had lost its host.


    "Push them all down!"


    "Kill them..."


    Having in the sea monster with his own hands, Rhaegar returned to his senses, the chaotic sounds of battle filling his ears.


    On the deck, the remaining mercenaries worked together to push the few remaining stone men into the sea. The blows from the sea monster''s soft limbs had left only a handful of mercenaries and stone men standing. Fortunately, the stone men in the water were unable to climb onto the violently rocking sailboat, allowing the mercenaries to gain the upper hand.


    Rhaegar watched the scene from his perch on the sea monster''s corpse, temporarily removed from the chaos.


    "Move, don''t let the stone men in the sea climb up!" the squad leader shouted, his helmet askew.


    The sailboat had been inching forward, slowed by the earlier turmoil. Now, unhindered by the stone men and the sea monster, it began to make its way past the ruins of the stone bridge and away from the dangerous area.


    "Roar..." Cannibal hovered above, unleashing Dragonfire upon the stone men still attempting to pursue them through the water.


    Rumble-


    The underwater volcano continued its eruption, spewing magma and filling the sky with volcanic ash. Crimsonva sshed high into the air, some of itnding near the southern shore of the ruins of the Stone Bridge.


    Rhaegar''s face tightened in concern. He called to Cannibal, ready to mount and flee at a moment''s notice. The Smoking Sea''s reputation for danger was well deserved; the underwater volcano alone posed a significant threat.


    Fortunately, only a small amount ofva reached their vicinity, reducing the immediate danger of being drenched in molten rock. However, the ck volcanic ash had spread rapidly and caught up with the sailboat.


    The ash, carrying high temperatures and mixed with loose minerals, resembled thick ck smoke. Cannibal, flying through the air, was the first to encounter the ash, choking and unable to see properly, emitting a low, gurgling roar.


    "Cough, cough, cough..." Rhaegar choked and coughed, the ash choking him as he covered his mouth and nose. The heat was unbearable, and the volcanic ash felt like furnace soot, making it impossible to breathe.


    The mercenaries fared even worse, already exhausted from the battle. They panted heavily, choking and whimpering in agony.


    "Dangerous," Rhaegar muttered, his face covered in ash, his eyes red with irritation.


    Buzz...


    In the moment of crisis, his space bracelet trembled slightly, emitting a faint red glow. Rhaegar''s mind raced, remembering a snowy treasure he had acquired.


    He touched the bracelet, and a slender silver ne appeared in his hand. The ne itself was unremarkable, but the pendant - an octagonal crimson ruby the size of a baby''s fist - was extraordinary.


    "ming Red Heart!" Rhaegar eximed, astonished.


    When the Mountain ns were burned, the red priestess who carried the ming Red Heart had shown no fear of Dragonfire. As an inherited treasure of the R��hllor Temple, it must possess extraordinary properties.

 Chapter 288: Wild Dragon in the Mist

    Chapter 288: Wild Dragon in the Mist


    Buzz--


    As if sensing his thoughts, the ming Red Heart emitted a reddish halo that enveloped Rhaegar.


    Before he could react, the halo expanded, enveloping the entire ship in a protective sphere of red light.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared in puzzlement as it emerged from the volcanic ash, its green pupils faintly glowing with the same red halo.


    Protected by the red light, the volcanic ash was kept at bay, and the oppressive heat dissipated.


    "The Lord of Light has manifested! Let''s go!" Rhaegar shouted, urging the mercenaries to row with all their might.


    They had to hurry; maintaining the halo drained Rhaegar''s magic, and he was already borrowing magical energy from Cannibal.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal swooped lower, its wings creating gale-force winds that propelled the sails forward.


    The sky and sea were shrouded in volcanic ash, a chaotic darkness.


    "Cannibal, guide the course ahead," Rhaegar called out.


    Cannibal, a wild dragon with intelligence surpassing that of a normal human, heeded Rhaegar''smand. Using its sharp senses, it led the sailboat through the treacherous sea.


    With the powerful winds at their back, the sailboat sped along.


    Within half an hour, they had traveled a hundred miles, far enough to escape the worst of the volcanic ash.


    Wave~


    Free from the scorching ash, the red halo around the sailboat dissipated like a bursting bubble.


    Rhaegar, pale and exhausted,y on the sea monster''s corpse, clutching the now-glowing ming Red Heart.


    After infusing it with theirbined magic, the heart had been activated, no longer dull but vibrant and eye-catching.


    Rhaegar gazed up at the sky, the unique hazy weather of the Smoking Sea dim yet serene.


    "Good stuff, worthy of being the Lord of Light Temple''s inheritance item," he sighed, relieved.


    "Roar..."


    A deep dragon roar echoed from afar, stretching out for a long time.


    Rhaegar sprang up, ignoring his aching muscles, and looked towards the sound.


    He knew Cannibal''s roar well, deep and resonant like a bell. This roar, though loud,cked its rough and domineering quality.


    "There are still dragons in the Smoking Sea!"


    Rhaegar''s expression grew solemn as he stared at the thick haze behind the sailboat.


    With Cannibal leading the way, this dragon roar had to belong to another dragon.


    He stared intently, but the haze revealed nothing.


    "Why isn''t it there?" Rhaegar muttered, disappointed but unwilling to give up.


    He was determined to confirm if there truly was another dragon in the Smoking Sea.


    "Roar..."


    A dragon''s roar echoed, but it wasn''t from the dragon in the mist. Cannibal, sensing the presence of another dragon, had turned, pping its massive wings and hovering above the sailboat, its green vertical pupils focused on a distant point.


    Just as Rhaegar was about to give up hope, the haze in the sky shifted and rippled. A grayish figure appeared briefly, darting into the dense mist before vanishing.


    "There really is a dragon!" Rhaegar eximed, his face hardening with determination.


    In that fleeting moment, he had seen the shadow of a dragon. It seemedrger than Syrax but smaller than Caraxes, with unusually smooth scales that appeared silvery ck and blended seamlessly with the mist. Its body was well proportioned, reminiscent of Dreamfyre and Grey Ghost.


    Rhaegar''s mind raced with wonder. "The Smoking Sea does indeed harbor dragons, and they appear young from their size."


    Given the dangerous nature of the Smoking Sea, it was unlikely that this dragon had been tamed. It had to be a wild dragon that had hatched on its own.


    His thoughts drifted back to the green dragon egg stored in the captain''s quarters. "The wild dragon in the haze must have hatched from an egg left behind by the Dragonlord family," he mused.


    "A wild dragon..." Rhaegar murmured, feeling a mixture of relief and excitement.


    A wild dragon was manageable, far less threatening than a tamed one. The origins of Cannibal were also shrouded in mystery. Some believed it was hatched on Dragonstone Ind, while others spected that it was an exotic, pure wild dragon. Either way, the details were unimportant now.


    Rhaegar''s gaze remained fixed on theyers of mist as his thoughts drifted off into the distance, pondering the implications of this new discovery.


    ...


    Time flew, and ten dayster...


    In the bustling harbor of Vntis, a three-masted sailing ship with a strong smell of the sea docked.


    "Roar..."


    A loud and clear dragon roar echoed through the harbor. Sailors and ves alike raised their heads to see a huge pitch-ck dragon soaring above them. The dragon circled the sky above the city-state twice, roaring as if to announce its presence, before slowly descending near the ck Wall.


    Everyone recognized it as the dragon of the Targaryen Dragonlord.


    Soon after, the ck dragon took to the air again, pping its massive wings as it headed toward the Narrow Sea.


    No one knew what happened during the dragon''s briefnding. No one dared to ask.


    One thing was clear: R''hllor''s faith was growing stronger by the day.


    ...


    Above the Narrow Sea, the sky was a clear blue with white clouds driftingzily. The salty sea breeze carried a refreshing coolness.


    A conversation was taking ce on the deck of arge cargo ship.


    "Uncle, I didn''t expect you to be waiting for me here," Rhaegar remarked, his tone calm as he looked at the familiar figure before him.


    Daemon, holding a half-finished ss of red wine, stared out at the pale sea. "I didn''t expect you to actually dare to explore the Smoking Sea," he said ndly. He nced at the rounded bundle at his nephew''s waist and noted its presence withoutment. "Looks like you made quite a haul."


    Upon hearing of Rhaegar''s venture into the Smoking Sea, Daemon had set out to intercept him. Not for personal gain, but for the sake of his family and his brother and niece.


    Rhaegar patted his satchel and said without hesitation, "I didn''t go for nothing."


    "To be honest, you''re too reckless," Daemon replied, taking a sip of his drink. "I once tried to explore the Smoking Sea with Caraxes, but the dragon got restless when we reached the area, so I had to turn back."


    The Smoking Sea was rumored to hold Valyria''s lost treasures, but luck favored few.


    Rhaegar fell silent, acknowledging the truth in Daemon''s words. The Smoking Sea was treacherous indeed. It was a ce to avoid unless absolutely necessary.


    Changing the subject, Daemon nced at the two girls standing in the corner of the deck, a yful expression in his eyes. "Are you sure you want to return to King''s Landing with those two bastardsdies?"


    "It''s not me who''s bringing them, it''s you," Rhaegar replied with a helpless shrug. "I''m flying back to King''s Landing on the dragon. They''re your responsibility."


    Daemon scoffed, "I thought you had more guts."


    "No way," Rhaegar shook his head, then his tone grew serious. "I��ve heard about the brothel incident."


    His words were pointed, his gaze intense. He wasn��t particrly upset about Varos��s death��a puppet like that was expendable��but the circumstances were troubling.


    Daemon��s eyes shed with a dangerous glint as he sneered, "A mere bitch."


    "She was a Targaryen," Rhaegar retorted, his brow furrowing. He didn��t mince words. Saera��s death by fire was essentially Kinying.


    Daemon''s expression hardened. "My grandfather always said she wasn��t a true Targaryen, just a bitch."


    He had long known about her existence but hadn��t paid her much mind until recently. When Varos made his move, Daemon had seen an opportunity to erase a stain.


    "Perhaps you��re right," Rhaegar conceded, shaking his head.


    Their conversation fell into silence. Rhaegar didn��t press Daemon about Varos��s demise. He hadn��t intended for Varos to wield real power��he was meant to be a mere figurehead.


    Simrly, Daemon��s involvement with the old noble and Tesrio had made it clear that the powerful nobles of the free trade city-states were not to be trusted. Overseas power was ultimately detached from the king��s authority. It was fine to show saintliness in public, but exercising unchecked power was dangerous.


    Rhaegar��s focus needed to remain on Westeros.


    Daemon found a wooden crate and sat down, sipping his wine and gazing at the sky. The brief period of tranquility was something he was reluctant to break.


    ...


    King''s Landing, Red Keep.


    The Council Hall was filled with the members of the Small Council. Viserys sat at the head of the table, cradling a wine cup in his hand. Compared to more than half a month ago, his health had improved significantly, and the usual smile had returned to the corners of his mouth.


    The table was surrounded by a group of royal advisers: Hand of the King Lyonel, Master of Civil Affairs Otto, Grand Maester Mellos, Master of Coin Lyman, and Master of Laws Jasper. The seat for the Master of Ships remained vacant, the position still unfilled.


    "Gentlemen, we all know the situation in the Stornds. What are your views?" Viserys asked, raising an eyebrow as he addressed the advisers.


    The advisers exchanged nces, their eyes frequently darting toward the king''s side.


    Viserys noticed this but forced himself to ignore it, maintaining his smile. To his right, Alicent sat demurely in a long green dress, silently pouring wine for him. On his left, Rhaenyra, in a strapless ck dress, toyed with a stone ball adorned with ck and green dragon patterns��her brother��s stone ball.


    The room fell silent, the advisers hesitant to speak.


    Viserys nced around the table, contemting whether to dismiss his wife and daughter. Earlier, when he had been weak, Alicent had attended the council on his behalf, serving with dedication. Rhaenyra, as the Princess of Dragonstone, also had a rightful ce at the table in Rhaegar��s absence. Despite his misgivings, Viserys decided to allow them to stay.


    Seeing this, the advisers, though helpless, epted the situation. There was no conflict between the Queen and the Princess, so their presence would not disrupt the meeting.


    Lyonel stood up to break the silence, clearing his throat. "Your Grace, the construction of the Prince''s Pce required significant resources, most of which were provided by the Rivends and the Stornds."


    "Recently, the Stornds were struck by a storm, and several noble houses that supplied wood and stone suffered losses. They are now seeking an advance on theirpensation from the treasury."


    Viserys took a sip of wine and replied with a touch of sarcasm, "But weren''t the houses that provided the materials located ind?"


    When the kingdom undertook major projects, local nobles were temporarily conscripted andter reimbursed from the treasury. These particr noble houses, who had barely contributed, now sought premature rewards from the treasury. It was an audacious request.


    Lyonel hesitated, unsure how to respond. He too recognized the underlying issue but was reluctant to voice it openly.

 Chapter 289: Conflict Between Hightower’s Father and Daughter

    Chapter 289: Conflict Between Hightower��s Father and Daughter


    "Your Grace, I do not approve of this matter."


    While Lyonel hesitated, Lyman Beesbury raised his hand to express his position. The old man from Honeyholt frowned as he spoke slowly, "In the early days of the kingdom, there was no precedent for advance payments from the treasury. It does not align with our established rules."


    Though over fifty years old and gradually slowing in thought, his political acumen remained sharp. He prioritized maintaining the court''s dignity above all else.


    Viserys, pleased to hear a suggestion that resonated with him, smiled warmly. "Lord Lyman makes a valid point."


    Lyonel, after a brief hesitation, responded, "However, without an advance from the treasury, the construction of the Prince''s Pce will be dyed."


    He pulled a letter from his chest and ced it on the conference table. The letter clearly stated that several nobles had suffered losses, making it difficult to provide building materials. It was filled with excuses and requests.


    Viserys frowned. "Can''t we rotate the responsibility to other noble houses first?"


    Lyonel found himself at a loss for words.


    Otto, breaking his silence, subtly reminded, "Your Grace, the noble houses who provided the materials are still dealing with the aftermath of the disaster ind. The coastal houses may also be struggling..."


    His meaning was clear: this situation was more than just bad luck; it was likely someone was intentionally causing trouble. Rotating a few noble houses wouldn��t resolve the issue.


    Viserys, not a fool, sensed the undercurrent of discontent among the Stornds bannermen. In his mind, hebeled it "malicious provocation."


    Without rushing to take a position, he scanned the advisers and asked, "Given your insights, how should the court respond?"


    Though his instincts told him one thing, he wanted to hear the small council��s opinions.


    "Your Grace, the Stornds did suffer a natural disaster recently. Perhaps a careful and thorough investigation is warranted," suggested Jasper, the Master of Laws, before Lyonel or Otto could propose anything.


    Jasper had ck curly hair, a shapely beard, and a serious square face.


    Lyonel disagreed. "A thorough investigation is time-consuming andbor-intensive. The court should directly assert its authority."


    "It''s about the court''s reputation, and there may be no clear leads for an investigation," Lyonel continued.


    Jasper, crossing his arms, smiled lightly. "The nobles of the Stornds have always been loyal. We could ask Lord Borros to look into this matter."


    "Lord Borros has just assumed his position. He might not have the experience to manage such aplex issue," Lyonel retorted, his tone resistant.


    The Baratheon family oversaw the Stornds, making Borros investigating akin to a thief investigating their own crime.


    Jasper, hiding his insecurity, replied, "Lord Lyonel, every region has its own challenges. Being forceful won''t win favor."


    Lyonel''s face darkened, a fire kindling in his heart. "Lord Jasper, I have reason to suspect you harbor selfish motives to protect your own fiefdom."


    A tense silence fell over the council hall.


    Mellos and Lyman raised their heads, surprised at Lyonel''s rigid and resolute stance.


    Otto remained calm and habitually silent.


    Bang��


    Jasper mmed his hands on the table, his face red with indignation. "Lord Lyonel, I hold the same rank as you. Your insults demean both of us."


    Lyonel remained stern and unmoved, about to retort when someone else interrupted.


    Thud��


    A stone ball dropped into its slot, the sound drawing everyone''s attention.


    Rhaenyra, who had remained silent, rose gracefully, smoothing her skirts. Her bright eyes were icy as she spoke. "Lord Jasper, the tant defiance of the Stornds nobles is evident. Is an investigation really necessary?"


    Jasper, though intimidated by the imposing princess, continued to argue. "Perhaps there are hidden factors at y."


    He had received a letter from Lord Borros, who admitted to struggling with his unruly bannermen and had asked for support in court. In exchange, Borros promised a marriage alliance, offering his daughter to Jasper''s son.


    "Lord Jasper, your reasoning is insufficient," Rhaenyra said, her voice edged with anger. "This is a test of the local nobles'' loyalty to the crown. They must be firmly reprimanded."


    The interference with the Prince''s Pce construction was a direct affront to the royal family. With Rhaegar absent from King''s Landing, Rhaenyra feltpelled to assert her stance.


    Jasper hesitated, then weakly defended, "Even so, this is not directly tied to Lord Borros."


    "Hmph, you''re mistaken," Rhaenyra retorted sharply. "At Lord Boremund''s funeral, Aegon and Daemon disrupted the proceedings, angering Lord Borros. This incident is well-known across the Seven Kingdoms."


    Her blunt statement cut through the formalities, exposing the true issue. Jasper, speechless, sat down in frustration.


    Lyonel seized the moment, speaking in a grave tone. "The root of the problem lies with Lord Borros and his dissatisfaction with the royal family."


    This was what he had been waiting to say.


    Lyman then suggested, "Why not summon Borros to King''s Landing so His Grace can address the issue personally?"


    Viserys, reluctant to cause offense, looked to his indignant daughter for reassurance. "Rhaenyra, sit down and listen to the advisers'' counsel."


    Rhaenyra pursed her lips, thenplied, resting her hands on her back. She couldn''t fully take Rhaegar''s ce, but opening the discussion was a significant step.


    Sensing the king''s hesitation, the advisers avoided direct confrontation. After a brief murmur of conversation, Otto Hightower rapped the table and spoke firmly. "Your Grace, the tension between the Targaryen and Baratheon Houses is the issue. A marriage alliance could resolve it."


    Viserys looked intrigued. "What do you propose?"


    Otto, ncing at Alicent, smiled. "Prince Aegon is not yet betrothed, and Lord Borros has four daughters. A marriage could foster harmony between our houses."


    It was a conventional but effective solution.


    Viserys'' eyes brightened as he considered the benefits of uniting the families through marriage, which was preferable to conflict.


    The advisers mulled over Otto''s suggestion, each with their own thoughts.


    Lyonel, a staunch supporter of the heir, felt uneasy. He feared that a marriage to the Baratheons, who had their own ambitions, could lead toplications. Yet, he chose not to voice his concerns. The royal family''s marital decisions were not for court advisers to meddle in.


    Just as the advisors thought the king would agree to the proposal, an unexpected voice rose in opposition.


    Alicent frowned in displeasure and looked at her father, Otto. She took a deep breath. "I have discussed with His Grace that Aegon should be united with Hena and not marry an outsider."


    "The Small Council is not aware of this," Otto replied coolly. "Besides, there is nothing wrong with Prince Aegon marrying the daughter of House Baratheon. It will help unite the Stornds."


    "I am the mother of the child, and I disagree," Alicent countered, turning to her husband with a plea in her eyes. "Viserys, you know Hena''s situation. She is not fit to marry outside the family."


    Her maternal instincts made her fiercely protective. She didn''t want either of her children to be used as political pawns, especially Hena, whose unique beauty and gentle nature made Alicent wish to keep her close.


    Viserys, feeling the weight of the moment, said softly, "Alicent, there''s nothing wrong with Hena. We are discussing Aegon''s marriage."


    Privately, they had indeed discussed the children''s marriages. With Rhaegar and Rhaenyra''s unions already settled, Alicent focused on Aegon and Hena, favoring intrafamily marriages to keep the bloodline pure and strong.


    Alicent, frustrated by her husband''s evasiveness, snapped. "In short, I do not agree. My children''s marriages should be decided by me."


    She shot a warning nce at her father, Otto, across the table. Though she was defiant, she still feared opposing him openly. Seeking an excuse, she added, "Aegon and Daemon disrupted the funeral, and Rhaegar was also present. We should wait for Rhaegar to return and discuss it together."


    She believed Rhaegar would oppose Aegon''s marriage to a Baratheon, allowing her to keep her children close.


    Viserys, momentarily distracted by thoughts of Rhaegar, asked, "Rhaegar has been away for a long time. Has there been any word on when he will return?"


    "He''s been gone nearly a month. I think it will be soon," Rhaenyra replied quickly.


    Viserys looked around, his gaze lingering on Alicent and Otto. He murmured, "In that case, let''s wait for Rhaegar toe back and discuss it together."


    The meeting had reached an impasse over the marriage issue. Waiting for Rhaegar''s return seemed a sensible solution.


    "I''ll go find the children, so I''ll leave you now," Alicent said, her voice tinged with relief as she hurried away.


    Rhaenyra picked up the stone ball, her expression serious. "Lord Borros does not honor the royal family. Let''s wait for Rhaegar toe back to negotiate a solution."


    She was indifferent to the politics of the marriage, but determined to point out the disloyalty of the Baratheon House.


    The royal meeting concluded. The advisers stood and bowed before leaving.


    Rhaenyra apanied her father as he walked back to his chambers. Just as they were about to part ways, a muffled voice called out.


    "Princess," Grand Maester Mellos said from behind.


    Rhaenyra''s heart skipped a beat as she turned. "Is there news from Rhaegar?"


    "A letter from Vntis, sealed with the three-headed red dragon," Mellos said, producing an envelope from his pocket. His bald head gleamed slightly as he bowed.

 Chapter 290: Alicent Trains Her Son

    Chapter 290: Alicent Trains Her Son


    In the blink of an eye, three days passed.


    King''s Landing


    The early spring snow had melted, and the streets were abuzz with activity. Septage workers, driving worn-out horses and hauling carts, diligently cleaned the public toilets in every nook and cranny. Even the notoriously filthy flea dens had lost much of their stench. Crowds thronged Silk Street, where money flowed freely, and revelry was in full swing.


    Suddenly, a deep dragon roar echoed through the city. A shadow as dark as night rose from ckwater Bay, soaring above King''s Landing. The dragon''s scales were as ck as charcoal, with piercing green eyes and wings that blotted out the sun. Its presence was as menacing as a dark god''s.


    After a slow, deliberate circle over the city, the dragon descended over Rhaenys''s Hill andnded in the Dragonpit.


    Inside the Dragonpit, Cannibal lowered its massive spine, folded its wings, andy down, feigning sleep.


    "Good, rest well," Rhaegar said, standing before the formidable dragon''s head, his hands gently stroking the ck scales.


    "Prince, you have finally returned," greeted Maester Maynard, his eyes brimming with joy. He was thin and pale but wore a smile. Beside him stood Syrio, his fluffy curls bobbing as he walked.


    Rhaegar smiled at Maynard. "Thank you for your hard work," he said, his gaze shifting to Syrio.


    The water dancer from Braavos wore a loose ck robe, his thin sword at his side. "Ready?" Rhaegar asked.


    Before returning to King''s Landing, Rhaegar had sent two letters ahead, detailing several instructions.


    Syrio raised his hand in greeting and smiled confidently. "The ship is at the docks, ready to sail."


    "Excellent," Rhaegar nodded. "Stop at the Temple of R''hllor and gather as much information as you can."


    "As you wish," Syrio said, pulling on his hood and disappearing into the shadows of the Dragonpit.


    Rhaegar shook his head with a smile, exchanged a few words with Maynard, and rode back to the Red Keep. Syrio was to be his shadow in Vntis, tasked with gathering intelligence and preparing for future endeavors. Even if they couldn''t control the city-state, they aimed to be well-informed and ready.


    ...


    The Gates of the Red Keep


    "Wee, Rhaegar of House Targaryen, Heir to the Iron Throne!" The booming promation of the Kingsguard echoed through the courtyard as the carriage slowly entered the forecourt of the Red Keep.


    Lifting the carriage curtain, Rhaegar stepped out just as a familiar, thoughtful voice rang out.


    "Rhaegar!"


    Rhaenyra, who had been waiting at the doorway, ran towards him, her excitement palpable. Rhaegar turned at the sound of her voice, his eyes lighting up. Rhaenyra looked radiant, her long silver hair braided and coiled behind her head. Her gentle demeanor, bright purple eyes, and the smile on her white face made her look more beautiful than ever. Her purple gown swayed as she moved, and her ck stockings peeked out from under her deerskin boots, covering her slender calves.


    The moment Rhaegar stepped out, Rhaenyra leaped into his arms, her eyes scanning him worriedly. "You''re finally back! Are you hurt?"


    "I''m fine," Rhaegar replied, smiling. "But I missed you."


    Rhaegar''s words brought a smile to Rhaenyra''s face. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck. They had both missed each other deeply.


    Rhaenyra, pretending to be aggrieved, tilted her head and gently bumped his. "No wonder you didn''t take me to Vntis. You even ventured to the Smoking Sea alone."


    She lifted his chin and studied his face closely. In the nearly month-long absence, Rhaegar had grown. His once youthful face had gained a touch of strength, and his silver-gold hair framed purple eyes that held a hint of unresolved mncholy. An eternal smile yed at the corners of his mouth.


    "I''m sorry," Rhaegar said, his voice sincere. "Next time I''ll take you with me wherever I go."


    "Not a chance," Rhaenyraughed, pinching his cheeks. "I wouldn''t dare go to the Smoking Sea."


    She stood on her tiptoes topare their heights. Though she was taller than most women at 162 centimeters, Rhaegar towered over her at over 180 centimeters. His frame, broad-shouldered and slender-waisted, was a testament to the strength of the Targaryen bloodline.


    Rhaegar shook his head, breaking away from her yful hands. "I''ll teach you a lessonter," he teased, resting his chin on her shoulder.


    Rhaenyra grunted in mock annoyance and began to check Rhaegar for injuries. Her hands roamed over his body, and when she touched his right waist, she noticed something amiss.


    "Rhaegar, where is your sword?" she asked, her eyes serious. She pushed him away slightly, searching his face for an answer.


    Rhaegar hesitated before admitting, "I left it in the Smoking Sea."


    "You really took on danger, didn''t you? You even lost your sword!" Rhaenyra''s eyes widened with worry, her voice tinged with anger. She knew that Rhaegar''s trip to the Smoking Sea had been far from safe.


    Fury and concern mixed in her heart. Rhaenyra gritted her teeth and pped Rhaegar''s chest a few times, her frustration evident.


    "Wait, I didn''t lose it. Listen to me first," Rhaegar said, capturing Rhaenyra''s hand as she tried to express her frustration.


    Rhaegar took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Dragon w is temporarily out of my hands. It''s in the possession of a... new friend."


    "A new friend? Where did you find a new friend?" Rhaenyra''s eyes widened with disbelief.


    Rhaegar hesitated for a moment before affirming, "A wild dragon."


    Rhaenyra''s expression shifted from skepticism to one of bewildered curiosity, prompting Rhaegar to offer a detailed exnation.


    The dragon w was lost during THE battle with the sea monster. Hethought it had fallen near the ruins of the stone bridge and nned to salvage itter.


    But then, the mysterious scroll in his bracelet started glowing, pinpointing the exact location of Dragon w. It was moving rapidly within a dozen miles of the sailboat.


    The visibility was terrible, but he realized that a wild dragon from the Smoking Sea had picked up Dragon w and was following the sailboat. This continued until he left the Smoking Sea. It seems the wild dragon there have never ventured far from his territory.


    Rhaegar finished with a helpless smile, "The dragon probably took a liking to Dragon w because it was shiny, treating it as a collectible."


    Rhaenyra listened intently, her mouth slightly agape. "There are wild dragons in the Smoking Sea?"


    "Yes," Rhaegar confirmed with a nod, then added with augh, "But don''t worry, I managed to find a substitute. The trip wasn''t aplete loss."


    Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, a hint of amusement in her exasperation. "Let''s get back to the castle so you can rest. And you might want to clean up��you��re starting to smell, and your hair is a mess."


    Rhaegar chuckled, grateful for Rhaenyra''s concern. Together, they made their way back to the Red Keep.


    ...


    The Queen''s Bedchamber


    Alicent paced back and forth, her face twisted with anger. Aegon sat on a round stool by the table, his head hung low. His silver hair was disheveled, and he was shirtless, wearing only white pajama pants.


    Not far away, Aemond stood watching, his expression helpless.


    Hena knelt on the floor, her light purple eyes unfocused as she muttered to herself, "Green spools, ck spools..." She fiddled with two balls of thread, the only sound in the room besides Aegon''s irritated head-scratching.


    Alicent spun around, pointing an using finger at Aegon. "She is my personal maid, and you dare molest her?"


    "I didn''t! I was just teasing her," Aegon retorted, bristling.


    St!


    Alicent pped him, her voice filled with fury. "The evidence is there, and you''re still making excuses."


    Aegon clutched his face in annoyance. "She was the one who bent over in front of me, and I just pped her!"


    p!


    Alicent pped him again. "Will you grow up? All you do is drink and waste your time with prostitutes. What else are you good for?"


    "What future do you expect for me?" Aegon shouted back. "The heir is Rhaegar. What''s wrong with me being a hedonistic prince?"


    Alicent''s chest heaved with frustration. "Even if you don''t want the throne, you should still protect your family."


    Aegon grimaced and pointed at Hena. "Your idea of protection is marrying me to her, right?"


    After the Small''s Council meeting, his parents had approached him separately. Viserys asked if he was interested in marrying into the Baratheon House. Alicent wanted him to marry Hena and strengthen the Hightower House''s influence. But no one asked what he wanted.


    Seeing Aegon''s disdain for Hena, Alicent felt a wave of disappointment. "You should protect her, just like Rhaenyra protects Rhaegar."


    "She''s just a silly girl," Aegon muttered dismissively.


    "So, you''d rather marry Lord Borros'' daughter?" Alicent''s eyes reddened as she sat on a stool, holding her forehead.


    Aegon felt a pang of guilt at his mother''s sadness but responded with even more annoyance. "Who said I wanted to marry those ugly bastards?"


    Lord Borros had a rugged face, and his daughters had inherited his looks. Even Aegon, with hisx standards, found them unappealing.


    Alicent sighed deeply, fatigue washing over her. She nced at Hena and held back her words. The thought of marrying off her children depressed her.


    Aegon had never liked Hena. Growing up, they bickered constantly. Hena, absorbed in her spools of thread, was no different.


    "Never mind, all of you, get out," Alicent waved them away, distracted.


    The solution for the Small Council''s opposition to the Baratheon House had yet to be found. She needed to join forces with Rhaegar to block the marriage. Eventually, Aegon would have to unite with Hena.


    "Oh, you rest," Aegon muttered, leaving without a backward nce.


    "Sister, let''s go," Aemond said, taking the spool from Hena and leading her by the hand.


    As they passed the table, Alicent took Hena''s small hand. Ignoring Aemond''s envious look, she cupped Hena''s cheek and kissed it. "Don''t be afraid, Mother will not me you."


    Hena''s eyes lowered, her small hands fidgeting in front of her.

 Chapter 291: Long Lasting Face

    Chapter 291: Long Lasting Face


    In the afternoon sun


    The sun warmed the air in the forest.


    Creak...


    The small door to the castle''s backyard opened from within, and Rhaenyra stepped out, radiant and transformed from her morning attire. Her long hair, now loosely coiled with tiny braids interwoven, swayed behind her. She wore a ck long dress adorned with exquisite jewelry at the cor, entuating her grace and nobility. Around her pink and white neck, she had donned a Valyrian steel ne with three dragon heads.


    "Rhaegar, hurry up," Rhaenyra called, smiling as she walked under the fish beam wood with her hands sped behind her back. Her joy at their reunion was palpable.


    Rhaegar followed slowly, his appearance markedly changed under Rhaenyra��s careful grooming. The most noticeable difference was his hair: his long silver-golden locks had been trimmed to a clean, sharp, ear-length cut. This change was due to Rhaegar��s casualint during their bath, "You''re crushing my hair."


    Despite the new hairstyle, Rhaegar''s handsome face remained unaffected. d in a in ck dress, he exuded a cool and noble aura. Holding arge pile of fluffy cushions, he looked resigned but amused.


    Effortlessly, Rhaegar ced the cushions in an open space free of tree roots, creating a soft, inviting area under the tree. Rhaenyra, pleased with the setup, raised her chin. "Do you want to snuggle up to me, or should I snuggle up to you?"


    Rhaegar sighed and sat obediently on the cushion. "I''m not a kid anymore," he said, shaking his head with a smile.


    Rhaenyra leaned into his arms, teasing, "You unweaned brat, you don''t look grown up at all."


    After a few moments of peaceful silence, Rhaenyra lifted her head, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. "What were those gains you mentioned?"


    Rhaegar, undeterred by the loss of his Dragon w, had found numerous treasures. With a wave of his right hand, five dusty, petrified dragon eggs appeared. He also retrieved a green dragon egg that he had carefully guarded.


    "Dragon eggs?" Rhaenyra''s interest was piqued. She examined one of the fossilized eggs, her eyebrows knitting asionally. She quickly determined that five of them were inactive. However, when she received the green dragon egg from Rhaegar, her expression changed.


    "This is a good dragon egg," she said confidently, her extensive experience with dragon eggs evident.


    "This dragon egg was unearthed with the fossilized eggs of the Berys family," Rhaegar exined.


    "Berys... a top Dragonlord family..." Rhaenyra murmured, cradling the dragon egg gently. Suddenly, she dered, "Give it to me."


    Rhaegar was puzzled. Rhaenyra climbed out of his embrace, her expression serious. "I want to leave it for our children, to hatch a dragon that originated from the Berys family."


    "You��ve already saved a bronze-colored dragon egg?" Rhaegar asked, hesitant about cing this egg, unearthed from the Smoking Sea, in a child''s cradle. He believed it should be kept under the care of the Dragonkeepers.


    Rhaenyra shook her head, hugging the dragon egg tightly. "I won��t have just one child. I''ll leave it for our second."


    Afraid Rhaegar might refuse, she blushed and drew closer, whispering in his ear, "I love riding dragons, and I love riding you. Who knows, we might breed an army."


    Her face turned crimson, and she hid it behind the green dragon egg.


    Rhaegar froze, his earlobes reddening. He lowered his voice, "That''s Grandmother''s love talk to Grandfather. You''re not allowed to mimic it."


    Grandmother Alyssa Targaryen was not traditionally beautiful, but she was bold and spirited. Her passionate rtionship with Grandfather Baelon had be a popr joke.


    On their wedding night, the sounds of their pleasure echoed throughout the Red Keep and beyond, much to the amusement of their guests.


    The morning after, Alyssa brazenly dered, "I mounted him and took him for a ride, and I mean to do the same tonight. I love to ride."


    She referred to Rhaegar''s grandfather, Baelon Targaryen. The couple was inseparable, spending every moment together, except when riding their dragons.


    Alyssa had also tamed Meleys, the Red Queen, strapping her nine-day-old son, Viserys, to her chest and soaring through the skies on her dragon. Unfortunately, she didn''t fulfill her promise to bear twenty sons, dying of puerperal fever six months after her third child''s death.


    Rhaegar had taken Rhaenyra''s hand, firmly against the notion that childbirth was a woman''s battlefield. He didn''t want Rhaenyra to be part of such a battle.


    "I understand what you''re saying, but it''s not something we can control," Rhaenyra replied seriously.


    The shadow of her mother''s death in childbirth always loomed over her. But she epted it as a woman''s fate, ready to face it for someone she truly loved and cared for.


    Sensing her determination, Rhaegar squeezed her hand. After a few moments of silence, he took out the Valyrian steel sword, Brightroar, and plunged it into the soil under the fish beam wood.


    "Valyrian steel sword!" Rhaenyra eximed, examining the sword''s body, which was wider than her palm. Her eyesnded on the lion''s head on the hilt. "Is this Lannister''s Brightroar?"


    The brothers Jason and Tnd had often boasted to her about the Lannisters'' achievements.


    Rhaegarughed softly, "Itsst name is Targaryen now."


    Rhaenyra blinked and then turned away, "I''ll send a message to the cksmith in Qohor to have the sword recast."


    Brightroar had been excavated from the ruins of the Smoking Sea, and no one but Rhaegar knew about it. The mercenaries who helped didn''t recognize its significance.


    Rhaenyra''s n was simple. Brightroar couldn''t be exposed, or the Lannisters would im it. While no one knew, the sword would be secretly recast. Then, it would be Rhaegar''s new weapon, not the Lannister family''s Brightroar.


    "Wait, I summoned the cksmith from Qohor as soon as I got out of the Smoking Sea."


    Rhaegar tugged on ��s sleeve Rhaenyra, slowing her down. With a flip of his palm, he conjured a bunch of peculiar fruits, holding them in front of her eyes as if by magic.


    Rhaenyra nced at the fruits. They resembled cherries, lychee-sized and red, with two on a bunch.


    "A trophy I snatched from a sea monster''s nest," Rhaegar said, handing over the fruit. "Eat it, it will bring you good luck."


    After many days, the Brightroar and the sea monster��s corpse had been thoroughly explored. Calling up the system panel, Rhaegar checked the exploration record, which still showed progress.


    [Brightroar]


    Exploration Progress: 100%


    "This exploration isplete. Please pick up the lost treasure."


    "Pickup sessful. You have obtained..."


    [Lion''s Treasure]


    Grade: Epic (Purple)


    Trigger Cue: "Blood of the King."


    Rhaegar had tried using his own blood, but it didn''t trigger, likely because he hadn��t ascended the Iron Throne yet.


    [Cursed Sea Monster]


    Exploration Progress: 100%


    "This exploration isplete. Please pick up the lost treasure."


    "Pickup sessful. You have gained..."


    [Gift of the Sea Monster]


    Grade: Rare (Blue)


    Trigger Prompt: "Poor sea monster, to have such a trivial wish."


    The bunch of fruit in Rhaegar''s hand was the relic [Gift of the Sea Monster].


    For a moment, it made him nostalgic for the White Hart that had given him the [Auspicious Blessing] for him. Magical creatures seemed to have a fondness for fruit.


    Rhaenyra half-heartedly took the fruit and brought it to her mouth. "Should I eat it?"


    "That''s right," Rhaegar confirmed.


    Rhaenyra rolled her eyes at him before opening her mouth to eat the two fruits on the bunch. She chewed thoughtfully, savoring the vor.


    Once the fruit was in her belly, a system beep echoed in Rhaegar''s ears.


    "Congrattions, Relic activation was sessful. You have obtained..."


    [Long Lasting Face]


    Grade: Ordinary (White)


    Effect: "Maintains appearance and slows down aging."


    Evaluation: "Very average!"


    Watching a blinding white light drill into Rhaenyra''s belly, Rhaegar was momentarily silent. He hadn��t encountered many ordinary-grade relics. The [Sea Monster''s Gift] was at least rare; perhaps Rhaenyra wasn��t very lucky today?


    Rhaenyra didn��t seem to notice anything unusual. "Sweet and sour, does it do anything?"


    Rhaegar nced at the evaluation and kindly said, "It makes you look beautiful."


    The fruit��s effect naturally manifested in Rhaenyra, fulfilling her wish, albeit modestly.


    Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around Rhaegar and ced a gentle kiss on his cheek,ughing softly, "Mysterious."


    Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out.


    "Ha! ..."


    Rhaenyra''s eyes widened and she whispered, "That sounds like Hena."


    Rhaegar put away the fossilized dragon eggs and Brightroar, then got up and walked to the side of the thick fish beam wood.


    On the other side of the sacred wood, two figures were engaged in a sword fight. Hena, with her mouth set in a determined line and her eyes red, swung her wooden sword furiously, as if venting her anger. Each swing was apanied by a shout, as if she were cheering herself on.


    Opposite her, Mushroom, dressed in aical costume, held a short, thick wooden sword and was yfully cooperating in the duel.


    Seeing Mushroom, a dwarf, Rhaegar involuntarily frowned.


    Rhaenyra whispered softly, "Borros of House Baratheon is making moves in private. Otto is proposing a marriage between Aegon and his daughter, and Alicent wants Hena and Aegon together."


    Rhaegar, who had just returned and was unaware of thetest events in King��s Landing, listened attentively.


    After a moment of thought, Rhaegar��s frown deepened. "Baratheon..."


    The problem was Borros Baratheon''s insubordination. But Aegon and Hena��s marriage was also a significant issue.


    "Otto proposes Aegon''s marriage, Alicent favors family tradition. It needs to be resolved before it''s toote."


    ...


    On the other side, in the open-air gallery, Aegon and Aemond stood side by side, watching Hena wield her wooden sword.


    "Mother actually wants me to marry her," Aegon spat, disgust evident in his voice. "She''s a fool."


    "Aegon, she is our sister!" Aemond''s voice intensified as he spoke, defending Hena.

 Chapter 292: The Hidden Family Dangers

    Chapter 292: The Hidden Family Dangers


    Hena was his sister, the one who had always been there for him the most.


    Aegon grunted dismissively. "We have nothing inmon."


    "She tamed Dreamfyre and is a true Targaryen," Aemond replied, his tone t but thoughtful.


    Aegon narrowed his eyes. "Then you marry her."


    Having grown up overshadowed by his older brother Rhaegar, Aegon had no desire topete for power. He craved a life of indulgence and debauchery.


    Aemond stood silent for a moment, his hands clenched into fists beneath his green cloak. He watched Hena, her silver-gold curls bouncing as she meticulously wielded her wooden sword. He knew she wasn''t stupid��just lost in her own world at times. She had likely overheard her mother��s quarrel with Aegon, which had driven her to the Godswood to vent her frustration through sword practice.


    Aegon continued to provoke him with verbal taunts.


    Finally, Aemond lifted his head and said calmly, "I am willing to fulfill my duty if Mother allows us to be betrothed."


    Though he did not fully understand love, he felt sympathy for Hena. Unlike Aegon, he would not shirk his responsibilities to the family.


    "If?" Aegon scoffed. Their mother had tried to push Hena onto him to manage this "different" rtive. Aemond, for the moment, was not in a position to take his ce.


    Aemond, revealing more of his thoughts, said calmly, "It will strengthen the family and keep the Valyrian bloodline pure."


    Aegon was taken aback by his words. "She''s an idiot."


    "She may well be your future wife," Aemond said seriously.


    "Tsk." Aegon clicked his tongue, as if seeing his brother in a new light. How dare he contradict him.


    Bending his knees to bring himself level with Aemond, Aegon taunted, "In fact, we have one thing inmon: we both like long-legged beauties." He grinned wickedly and whispered in Aemond��s ear, "Remember? Get this ce wet."


    These were the same crude words he had used thest time he had taken Aemond to a brothel.


    Aemond bristled with disdain.


    "Che, boring."


    Not getting the reaction he wanted, Aegon stalked off alone, thinking his brother was as stupid as Hena.


    Aemond watched him go, disappointment surfacing in his eyes. "Aegon..."


    Deep down, he wished for a close bond with Aegon, Hena, and Daeron, just like Rhaenyra and Rhaegar shared. That��s what his mother, Alicent, had instilled in him, and he believed it himself. But Aegon��s poor character and irresponsible attitude frustrated him deeply.


    Amotion from within the Godswood broke his reverie. Hena had knocked the wooden sword from Mushroom''s hand and was walking away, panting, out of sight of the open-air gallery.


    As he watched her retreating figure, Aemond thought about his family and their differences. Feeling a familiar pang of istion, he lowered his head and muttered, "I still don''t have a dragon."


    ...


    After the fight, Hena felt exhausted, struggling to carry her wooden sword. All she wanted was a ss of cold, sweet wine and to copse on her bed.


    "Hena," came a soft call.


    She looked up, surprised to see her brother Rhaegar standing under the fish beam wood. "Brother, I thought it would take a dinner party to see you."


    Her mood immediately brightened. She studied him closely, noting his paleplexion, angr face, and mncholy aura. Most noticeable was his short silver-gold hair, a sharp difference from his usual long locks.


    Rhaegar waved and smiled. "I saw you practicing your sword."


    "No, just ying around," Hena stammered, embarrassed to have been caught.


    She spotted Rhaenyra sitting nearby with a green dragon egg in her arms and greeted her softly, "Sister."


    Rhaenyra nodded, but remained seated. Rhaegar, sensing Hena''s shyness, changed the subject. "Is it Aegon that''s bothering you?"


    Hena, usually quiet and introspective, had been practicing with her sword - a sign that something was on her mind. She shook her head, her interest waning. "No."


    Seeing her distress, Rhaegar took her hand gently. She dropped her wooden sword and walked obediently to his side.


    "Something on your mind?" Rhaegar bent to face her, their eyes level. Her cheeks were flushed with exhaustion, and a thin sheen of sweat covered her forehead.


    She stared at him withrge, watery eyes, and he could see her hidden emotions. "If you are in trouble, you must tell me," he said quietly.


    He already knew the cause: House Baratheon''s disrespect had led to talk of Aegon''s marriage, with Alicent wanting to manipte the unions of her children.


    "House Targaryen doesn''t have to sacrifice anyone," Rhaegar insisted, rubbing his head. With a dozen dragons and several battle-ready dragon riders, their family was strong. He wanted to protect his siblings and unite the Targaryens.


    "Brother..." Hena''s voice was low, touched by his concern. "Mother wants me to marry Aegon. They had a big fight."


    Rhaegar''s eyes flickered, understanding much from her words. Aegon had always been dismissive of Hena, a fact that had frustrated Rhaegar.


    He didn''t ask if she wanted to marry Aegon. Instead, he gently ced his arm around her and asked, "Did they argue in front of you?"


    Hena nodded vigorously, burying her face in his arms.


    "They should ask your opinion," Rhaegar said, stroking her silver hair. "Good girl, I knew you were upset."


    "Hmm..." Hena''s voice was small, her eyes red as she fought to hold back tears. She had been aware of the argument, and it had hurt her deeply.


    "Shhh, no crying." Rhaegar cupped her face, wiping away her tears. "If you want to change things, you have to be brave."


    While he could influence the marriage negotiations with House Baratheon, he couldn''t easily sway Alicent''s intentions for her children''s marriages. He needed to encourage Hena to find her own strength.


    "Brave," Hena repeated, curling up in his arms, clutching her wooden sword. She pondered deeply on the meaning of bravery, seeking strength in her brother''s words.


    ...


    That night, a great feast was held in the Red Keep to celebrate Rhaegar''s return. Viserys had invited many guests and nned an all-night feast.


    After only a few sses of wine, Viserys began coughing violently, his face turning red.


    "Drink slowly," Alicent said gently, wiping the corners of his mouth with a cloth.


    Viserys forced a bitter smile and muttered, "I can drink a thousand cups."


    Sitting nearby, Rhaegar watched with concern. As Viserys aged, his health had deteriorated, and the wounds inflicted by the Iron Throne never fully healed, causing constant pain. Excessive drinking and debauchery only worsened his condition.


    "Cheer up, this is a party for you," Rhaenyra whispered, sitting close to him.


    Rhaegar furrowed his brow and raised his ss to clink with hers.


    "There''s an council meeting tomorrow. You should drink less," Rhaenyra said, her eyes full of concern as she ced some of his favorite foods on his te.


    Rhaegar smiled helplessly. "Of course."


    After a bit of eating, the banquet moved into the dancing phase. Seizing a moment when no one was watching, Rhaegar took a parchment book left by the Shadowbinders from his spatial bracelet and flipped to the section on the ancient knowledge of Berys.


    The stone wall not only recorded "forbidden spells," it also contained valuable information about dragons that the Targaryenscked. One passage in particr caught his attention - it discussed the coexistence of dragons and their riders.


    It suggested that riders influenced the emotions of their dragons, and dragons in turn influenced the will of their riders. Prolonged contact could even affect their physical bodies.


    Rhaegar found this perspective fascinating. He believed that his own bloodline had been influenced by his bond with Cannibal, gradually strengthening it.


    Perhaps his father could benefit from a new bond with the family''s dragons. It might help him heal.


    ...


    The Next Morning


    Inside the Council Hall, sunlight refracted through the ss windows, casting a warm glow over the long table of the Small Council.


    ng-


    Rhaegar, dressed in a white tunic with a striking red-striped shirt, stood calmly observing the room. As the Heir Prince, he always sat to his father��s left at the council meetings.


    Lord Lyonel sat opposite him. Rhaegar smiled politely, nodding to each of the royal advisers as his gaze fell upon the two women at the table.


    Rhaenyra, in a strapless red dress, sat beside him. Alicent, her faceposed, sat next to her husband, apart from the advisers.

 Chapter 293: The Regent Prince

    Chapter 293: The Regent Prince


    Rhaenyra apanied him to the Small Council meeting concerning House Baratheon.


    Alicent continued her efforts to influence the marriage union, under the pretense of looking after her husband.


    Rhaegar turned to his father, seated at the head of the table, and whispered, "Father, let''s begin."


    "Oh, right."


    Viserys, bearded and reeking ofst night''s undiluted alcohol, said wearily, "The meeting will now discuss the issue of supplying materials for the Prince''s Pce."


    Lyonel frowned and gently reminded, "Your Grace, the supply of materials is controlled by Lord Borros of House Baratheon."


    He was indicating that the meeting should focus on addressing the Baratheon House''s defiance and restoring the royal family''s authority, rather than mundane logistics.


    Viserys rested his forehead on both hands and agreed listlessly. He was ufortable confronting a powerful lord directly.


    Rhaegar sighed helplessly, "Father, take care of your health."


    Turning to the assembled advisors, he said loudly, "My lords, the issue stems from the supply materials for the Prince''s Pce, but we all know there are deeper issues at y."


    If his father wouldn''t address it, he would.


    Lyonel nodded, affirming, "Prince, we suspect Lord Borros is retaliating for the misunderstanding at his father''s funeral."


    Rhaegar smiled, his gaze sweeping over the advisors.


    "Yes, we all believe so."


    The advisors nodded in agreement, understanding that there was no need for pretense.


    "Very well." Rhaegar was satisfied. "Let''s discuss how to deal with Lord Borros in apliant and reasonable manner."


    Viserys nced at his eldest son, hesitating. Rhaegar''s words hinted at action, but subtlety was required against a powerful lord.


    The elderly Lyman spoke up boldly, "Your Grace, Prince, I suggest we summon Lord Borros to King''s Landing to apologize and seek the Iron Throne''s forgiveness."


    Viserys looked embarrassed, rubbing his stubbled chin.


    "Lord Lyman, your proposal seems hasty."


    Grand Maester Mellos interrupted, analyzing, "Several noble families supplied the wrong materials. Even if Lord Borros is behind it, using him without evidence could lead to gossip."


    Lyman red at Mellos, retorting, "Your Grace is the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. There''s no need for hesitation."


    A seasoned financier, Lyman knew the Targaryen dynasty''s strength, including five dragon riders among the king''s heirs, and more in the extended family. They had the power to deal with Borros.


    Mellos, crossing his arms, said in an old-fashioned manner, "One must consider public opinion. His Grace values justice and strictness."


    Lyman, frustrated, red at Mellos. Such cautious advisors only fueled the king''s indecision.


    Seeing the heated argument, Rhaegar intervened, "Lord Lyman, your proposal is sound. Let''s hear from the other lords."


    Privately, Rhaegar agreed with Lyman. Maintaining control required asionally asserting dominance, ensuring loyalty and preventing rebellion among the nobles.


    With the Targaryen''s strength, it was time to appropriately assert their authority over the seven kingdoms.


    However...


    Rhaegar nced at his silent father, hesitating to make an immediate decision. Knowing Viserys'' tendency to avoid risks and rely on public opinion, he doubted his father would confront the Lord of the Storm''s End directly.


    At that moment, Jasper politely interjected, "Lord Borros has no obvious faults, and summoning him to King''s Landing for a reprimand might be inappropriate."


    Jasper was still fixated on the idea of joining House Baratheon through marriage.


    Rhaegar turned to him and asked calmly, "In your opinion, how should this be resolved?"


    "Prince, before you returned to King''s Landing, a good proposal was discussed."


    Jasper''s eyes twinkled as he nced across the room at Otto, then continued with a serious expression, "It might be wise to invite Lord Borros to King''s Landing to arrange a marriage between Prince Aegon and Borros'' daughter, thereby strengthening the bond between our families."


    Rhaegar fell silent, his eyes shifting between Jasper and Otto.


    Otto, who remained calm, added, "Marriages are excellent political maneuvers, effective in avoiding conflict."


    Viserys raised an eyebrow, considering the suggestion. The idea appealed to him more than a show of force.


    Before he could voice his agreement, Alicent swallowed a mouthful of wine, set her cup down forcefully, and said coldly, "Marriage is no small matter. Aegon and Daemon were responsible for the disturbance at the funeral. Lord Borros may not be inclined to agree."


    "There''s no harm in trying; we have more than one prince," Otto replied gently. She wanted to use Aegon to protect her only daughter, Hena, he understood Alicent''s concerns.


    Borros had four daughters, and Otto had three grandsons. If Aegon wasn''t suitable, Aemond or even Daeron could be considered. There was always a way to forge an alliance with House Baratheon and strengthen his family''s position.


    As expected, once Alicent realized there were multiple options, her anger subsided, and she began to think deeply.


    Seeing his wife''s change in demeanor, Viserys felt pleased and began to see the marriage proposal as feasible. He was about to voice his approval when Rhaegar''s knuckles tapped on the tabletop, drawing everyone''s attention.


    Lyman, a staunch hardliner, trembled slightly as he asked, "Prince, we''ve all shared our thoughts. What is your opinion?"


    He did not want the problem to be solved solely through marriage, hence his pointed question.


    Rhaegar rose from his seat, his eyes scanning the group of advisers as he spoke candidly:


    "My lords, firstly, I do not oppose the idea of a marriage alliance."


    He nced at Otto and Jasper before continuing, "However, I am also infuriated by Lord Borros'' petty actions and believe he deserves to be punished."


    Lyman nodded in agreement, saying, "That''s right."


    "Please, be at ease."


    Rhaegar raised his hand and looked at his father as he spoke firmly, "Father, Lord Borros'' actions seem to be provoking the royal family. We must respond decisively to preserve the dignity of House Targaryen."


    Jasper interjected, "Prince, we have no proof."


    "The Baratheon House is not as weak as we thought," Grand Maester Mellos echoed.


    Rhaegar''s eyes zed as he snapped, "Silence!"


    Jasper froze, his mouth opening to defend himself, but Rhaegar cut him off, pointing a finger at him, "If you interrupt me again without permission, I''ll send you to the Wall to join the Night''s Watch."


    He also red at Grand Maester Mellos, making it clear that their continued support of Otto''s cautious approach was uneptable. Advisers like these, who urgedpromise and appeasement, would find no favor with him.


    Rhaegar''s outburst had the desired effect. Jasper, visibly chastened, bowed his head, his face alternating between green and red. Grand Maester Mellos also fell silent, while Otto slipped into a more subdued, observant role.


    Seeing the shift in the room, Lyman spoke up, his mood lifted, "Borros is ambitious. A retreat will only diminish the prestige of the royal family."


    Lyonel raised his hand and added, "The marriage is feasible, but it shoulde after Lord Borros is punished."


    At this moment, both Lyman and Lyonel felt relieved. They had long struggled to assert their influence against the king''s tendency to show weakness and Otto''s persuasive skills.


    Rhaegar, a hardliner unlike his father, provided the strong leadership they needed.


    Viserys, overwhelmed by the shifting dynamics, turned to his eldest son, "Rhaegar, what do you think we should do then?"


    At this critical juncture, he chose to trust his son''s judgment.


    "The punishment must be carried out and the marriage can proceed."


    After a night of careful consideration, Rhaegar spoke decisively, "Lord Borros may not have any obvious faults, but we will find a way to hold him ountable and make sure he pays the price he deserves."


    He was not opposed to a marriage alliance with House Baratheon, even if it involved Aegon or Aemond. His willingness to unite his half-brothers showed his evolving strategy to strengthen their family.


    Lyonel wondered aloud, "Why don''t we use the marriage as an excuse to bring our families together and rebuke Lord Borros face to face?"


    Rhaegar shook his head, "A marriage can be used as an excuse, but it must not be discussed openly. The tournament is still several months away; I propose we organize a royal hunt to gather all the nobles of the King''s Landing and the Stornds."


    Targeting the Baratheons in a public setting would be more effective. The advisors weighed the pros and cons, their silence reflecting their deep thought.


    Viserys pondered the suggestion. A Kingswood Hunt was a usible excuse, neither a direct order nor an overly formal invitation. Once the nobles were gathered, he believed he could handle Borros.


    Smiling, Viserys agreed, "Good, let''s do as you suggest."


    He nced at Alicent and whispered, "You can take the opportunity to introduce Aegon to Borros'' daughter, if the children wish."


    Alicent handed him a cup of wine and said thoughtfully, "As you wish."


    The king endorsed the proposal, and the Small Council approved. As the meeting neared its end, Viserys gazed at his eldest son with a mix of pride and emotion. He felt a sense of relief, knowing Rhaegar was capable of leading the family and the kingdom.


    Before the advisers could leave, Viserys made a momentous decision, "My lords, Rhaegar has been listening to matters of state for many years. I dere that I will grant him the right of regency."


    The room fell silent, advisers shocked by the sudden announcement. Lyonel''s eyes widened, "Your Grace, is it not too early for a regency?"


    The title of regent held immense power,parable to that of the king. While Rhaegar had been involved in governance, this new title would elevate his authority. As the heir, hemanded respect, but with the title of regent, all the nobles of the seven kingdoms would bepelled to follow his orders, effectively making him the second king.

 Chapter 294: Preferences

    Chapter 294: Preferences


    Understanding the significance of the regency, the advisors reacted with mixed emotions.


    Otto looked up in surprise and narrowed his eyes slightly. Jasper and Mellos winced, still stung by the recent rebuke, and remained silent. Only Lyonel, the Hand of the King, spoke up, while Lyman rose solemnly and said, "Your Grace, you are in the prime of life. Appointing a regent prematurely could destabilize the kingdom."


    The king cannot be without a master, and two rulers cannot coexist. The position of regent was traditionally filled when the king was young or incapacitated. Viserys did not fit those criteria, and Lyman believed that sharing the king''s power was a risky move.


    The advisors'' directness left Viserys momentarily speechless. It was the first time he had been so bluntly opposed in a council meeting. But as he looked around the room, his resolve only grew stronger. He realized that his eldest son, wiser and more capable, needed more authority to effectively implement his vision.


    With newfound determination, Viserys turned to Rhaegar, his voice solemn, "Rhaegar, state your position on the regency."


    Rhaegar was taken aback by his father''s sudden suggestion. Moments ago he had not considered the title of Regent. He felt a tug on his cloak and heard Rhaenyra whisper, "Rhaegar, answer."


    Whether his father''s suggestion was a whim or a carefully considered n, Rhaegar knew he had to seize the opportunity. He nced at Rhaenyra, who nodded in encouragement.


    Taking a deep breath, Rhaegar rose from his chair. Viserys, sensing his son''s decision, offered his support, "Rhaegar, whatever you choose, I will support you."


    Rhaegar straightened and addressed the council, "As Lyonel and Lord Lyman said, the position of Regent is a matter of great importance."


    The eyes of the advisors were on him, some questioning, others resisting. They spected whether Rhaegar would refuse the regency to maintain moderation. But they were to be disappointed.


    With a calm demeanor, Rhaegar exined, "Today I have been reflecting on House Tully''s motto: Family, Duty, Honor."


    The advisers were puzzled, but Viserys and Rhaenyra looked on expectantly. Rhaegar continued, smiling, "Father believes in me, so I ept the position of regent."


    Ignoring the worried looks of Lyonel and Lyman, he added, "The Tully motto resonates with me. To govern the kingdom, we must prioritize family, duty to the realm, and personal honor."


    "I pledge to assist and maintain the peace of the kingdom during my regency."


    He left his seat and bowed to his father. Viserys, listening to his son''s confident speech, felt a surge of joy. What hecked in perseverance and decisiveness, he found in his eldest son.


    Viserys was doubly pleased to know that some of his advisors were unhappy. But he was determined to stand by Rhaegar and support his regency.


    Pushing away Alicent''s supporting hands, Viserys'' demeanor changed. He assumed the majestic posture of a king, shedding any trace of indecision.


    Stepping forward, he ced both hands on his eldest son''s shoulders and smiled, "Stand up, my son."


    "Father," Rhaegar said softly, obediently straightening his spine. In that moment, he felt his father''s unwavering support and epted the position of regent with a resolute heart.


    "Good," Rhaenyra eximed, pping her hands in approval.


    Viserys and Rhaegar exchanged a knowing look before turning their attention to the council. Father and son, both with silver hair and purple eyes, smiled in unison, their gentle exteriors masking a shared condescension.


    Otto was the first to p, signaling his approval, and the other advisors followed suit. Even Lyonel and Lyman, despite their reservations, joined in the apuse, acknowledging the king''s decision.


    The meeting ended, and as the doors opened, Viserys stepped out, but soon covered his mouth, coughing uncontrobly.


    Alicent rushed to his side, "You should drink less wine. It''s not good for your health."


    "It''s all right," Viserys replied with a smile, embracing his wife. "I just need some rest."


    Rhaegar, lingering behind, watched his father''s weakened state.


    "Prince," a silver-armored, white-robed Erryk greeted him, fulfilling his duty as Rhaegar was thest to leave, following the king and queen.


    Rhaegar paused to watch his father''s distant figure, noticing how his once straight back had hunched over time. Thinking about his father''s tired condition, he felt a pang of worry. If this continued, he might have to take the throne sooner than expected.


    "Rhaegar, what are you looking at?" Rhaenyra asked, smiling back.


    Rhaegar did not hide his concern, "Father''s health is not good. It''s worrying."


    "Don''t you have that serpent rune? Use it to help Father heal tonight," Rhaenyra suggested, holding his hand.


    Rhaegar sighed, "I''ll try."


    He had asionally used the Serpent Rune to heal his father''s wounds, but the relief was temporary and often caused more pain in the long run.


    "Don''t worry," Rhaenyraforted him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Father is stronger than he appears. We both know that."


    Sensing something different in her tone, Rhaegar looked down and met her loving gaze.


    Rhaenyra stood on her tiptoes, kissed him enthusiastically, and said proudly, "I liked the way you took charge at the Small Council."


    Rhaegar smiled, though he felt no pleasure. Holding her waist, he met her gaze with a hint of sadness.


    "Rhaenyra, you and I are both father''s favorite children," he said softly.


    Rhaenyra pursed her lips, "I don''t believe in Father as much as I believe in you."


    Though she loved her father, the memory of being pulled down from her position as heir left a lingering thorn in her heart.


    "Rhaenyra..." Rhaegar started, but stopped. His gaze fell on her soft red lips.


    Outside the Small Council''s stained ss window, the sun shone brightly and birds chirped. A small white snake picked up a bird and handed it to another snake. The two snakes touched heads and shared the meal, symbolizing unity and partnership.


    ...


    Half of the afternoon had passed by the time Rhaegar and Rhaenyra emerged from the attic. They had lingered long after the other royal advisors had left.


    As they walked, they reached the Godswood and were greeted by the sound of shing swords.


    Rhaegar snapped out of his thoughts and looked over.


    In a clearing, Hena and Aemond were sparring with wooden swords. Hena had swapped her usual skirts for a white shirt, brown pants, and deerskin boots. Her fluffy silver-gold curls were tied back with a hairband for ease of movement. Aemond wore a simr outfit, with the addition of a green cloak, his face serious as he engaged in battle.


    Rhaegar and Rhaenyra exchanged nces and approached quietly.


    At that moment, Hena, legs braced and sword in both hands,unched a determined attack. Aemond, on the defensive, fumbled to block each blow.


    "Ha!" Hena cried softly, charging forward and swinging her sword with all her might.


    Heeding Rhaegar''s advice to be stronger, Hena had decided to train herself to be a capable swordswoman. With no formal training, her swings were wild and unrefined. Believing herself to be weak, she chose her seemingly weaker brother, Aemond, as her sparring partner.


    With a deft dodge and upward swing, Aemond disarmed Hena, sending her wooden sword flying from her hands. Unbnced, she stumbled and fell to the ground.


    "Sister!" Aemond, startled, dropped his sword and rushed to help her up.


    It wasn''t easy for him either. Targaryen tradition dictated that boys begin fighting training at the age of six, and Hena had relentlessly pushed him to spar with her, taking advantage of his slightly superior skills.


    Rhaegar approached with a smile, "Are you all right?"


    "Brother!" Aemond, startled by Rhaegar''s sudden appearance, stood frozen, fearing a reprimand for seemingly bullying his sister.


    "Well done, Aemond. That was a clean move," Rhaegar said with a smile.


    It was just a friendly spar, and bumps and bruises were part of the process. He recognized Aemond''s talent, which surpassed that of theirzy brother, Aegon.


    Aemond sighed in relief and hurried to help Hena, who was already standing and dusting off her clothes. She looked down, disappointed at her defeat.


    "Brother," Hena shyly greeted Rhaegar as he smiled at her.


    Rhaegar picked up the fallen wooden sword. "Do you like practicing swords?"


    "No!" Hena shook her head vigorously, then added quietly, "But when I practice, I don''t see these fragmented images."

 Chapter 295: The Thought of Taming the Dragon

    Chapter 295: The Thought of Taming the Dragon


    Seeing Hena''s pitiful expression, Rhaegar gently removed a fallen leaf from her hair and whispered, "Do you want to get good at swordy?"


    Hena gave him a shy look and fidgeted nervously with her fingers. Dreamfyre had given her some courage, but it never felt like enough. Deep down, she hoped that learning swordy would be a better way to protect herself.


    "If you want to practice swordsmanship, I can ask Ser Arryk of the Kingsguard to teach you," Rhaegar continued.


    "Really?" Hena tilted her head, herrge eyes gleaming.


    "Of course," Rhaegar nodded, smiling. "Provided you work hard and are not afraid of suffering."


    He had no preconceived notions that women should only take on traditional female roles. To him, every Targaryen had unlimited potential.


    "Yes, I will practice hard and be as powerful as Queen Visenya," Hena replied eagerly.


    Everyone had their idols. Rhaenyra admired Nymeria, the Warrior Queen, for her heroic deeds, while Hena worshipped Visenya Targaryen. Rhaegar also admired the brave and wise Visenya. He rubbed Hena''s head affectionately and mused, "If you be skilled in swordy, I will give you a gift."


    "What kind of gift?" Hena asked curiously.


    Rhaegar nced at the wooden sword in his hand and shook his head, "It''s a secret, but it will be great."


    "Uh-huh," Hena replied overjoyed and jumped into his arms.


    Hena clung to him tightly, and Rhaegar smiled helplessly, supporting her legs as she wrapped them around his waist. "Thank you, brother," she whispered, nuzzling his neck and pressing her lips to his cheek.


    Rhaegar shook his head, smiling as he patted her back and kissed her forehead. Both he and Hena shared the gift of Dragon Dreams, which bonded them closely since childhood.


    Their intimate moment affected those around them. Rhaenyra, standing behind Rhaegar, narrowed her eyes as she watched Hena cling to him. Sensing her gaze, Hena looked up and met Rhaenyra''s eyes directly. The coldness in Rhaenyra''s eyes softened to avoid frightening Hena.


    Hena smiled, tightening her arms around Rhaegar''s neck and nuzzling her head against him, locking eyes with Rhaenyra.


    On the other side of the clearing, Aemond watched his sister nestled in their older brother��s arms and blinked, silently closing the distance. He didn��t have any particr thoughts, just a subtle, inexplicable envy��toward both Rhaegar and Hena.


    Noticing Aemond''s approach, Rhaegar extended a hand, resting it on his younger brother''s shoulder with a smile. "What is it? Something on your mind?"


    Aemond was caught off guard, suddenly finding himself under his brother��s affectionate attention. His mind went nk, cheeks flushing as he stammered, "Brother, do you remember your promise before you went to Storm��s End..."


    "To go to Dragonstone and tame dragons," Rhaegar finished for him, seeing his struggle.


    Aemond''s face lit up, nodding eagerly. "That''s right!"


    "Don''t worry," Rhaegar reassured him. "There��s a Kingswood hunt in a month. After that, I��ll persuade Father to visit Dragonstone, and I��ll help you tame a dragon."


    Rhaegar had been studying ancient texts on dragons and their riders, keen on deepening the bond between Targaryens and their dragons. He wanted his father to reconnect with the dragons, an endeavor that required a trip to Dragonstone. Moreover, he aimed to share forbidden magical knowledge with his father, hoping to unite their family through this shared power.


    Aemond''s eyes sparkled with excitement. "Really?"


    St! Rhaegar yfully smacked his head. "Man up. Don��t act like Hena."


    Aemond pouted, rubbing his head.


    "Rhaegar, put Hena down. We need to go back," came Rhaenyra''s voice, cold and firm.


    Rhaegar turned to see his sister''s calm, yet stern expression. He knew her well enough to sense something was off.


    He gently set Hena down, ruffling both her and Aemond''s hair. "Go y."


    "Uh-huh," Hena replied, pulling Aemond along as they bounced away.


    Rhaenyra had already turned and was walking away briskly, her red skirt swaying with her steps. Rhaegar''s eyes followed her, trying to recall what might have displeased her.


    It was nighttime, and the moon was a thin crescent in the sky.


    Inside the king''s chambers, a few lit tallow candles hung on the walls, casting a hazy glow. The deep corridor echoed with a knock on the door.


    "Ahem..." Viserys''s coughing filled the room, his voice a raspy wheeze. "Come in."


    The harshness of his cough made his breathing soundbored and his throat raw.


    Creak��


    The door opened, and Rhaegar was the first to enter, his eyes scanning the dimly lit room. Rhaenyra followed, her long silver hair cascading over her shoulder as she peeked in.


    Rhaegar nced at her with amusement. "Come on in, we''re not thieves."


    "It''s just my first night here," Rhaenyra muttered, lifting the hem of her ck skirt and walking in lightly.


    After leaving the Godswood Forest, Rhaenyra had been uncharacteristically silent, not wanting to witness her father receiving treatment. The siblings had not exchanged a word before entering the chamber.


    Carrying a tray with a butter candle, Rhaegar took Rhaenyra��s hand, and they walked into the bedroom together.


    "You''re all here?" Viserys leaned listlessly against the headboard, his loose robe barely covering his frail frame. He hadn��t expected his daughter to join them.


    "She insisted on tagging along," Rhaegar said, resigned.


    The first night he returned, he had spoken to his father about treating his wounds. The gathering had been postponed until tonight.


    Viserys smiled weakly. "Juste, be generous."


    Rhaenyra shot Rhaegar a look before quickly approaching the bed. "I wanted to see you," she said softly, adjusting a goose feather pillow behind her father��s back.


    She knew her father''s wounds were severe, though he had never let her see them. She wanted to understand the pain and stress he endured.


    "Oh, a body covered in cuts is nothing to see," Viserys joked weakly. "You should see me during the day; I still have a bit of gantry left."


    Rhaenyra held her father''s hand, feeling the weight of his suffering. His hand was missing two fingers, and the other was wrapped in gauze, with a hint of blood seeping through.


    She looked down, biting her lower lip. During the day, her father was the king, strong and imposing. But at night, he shed his tough facade, revealing his vulnerability.


    Rhaenyra��s eyes welled up with tears, and she nced helplessly at Rhaegar.


    "Ugh, really can��t do anything about you," Rhaegar sighed, walking to her side and whispering, "Remember? Father isn''t as fragile as he seems."


    These were the same words Rhaenyra had used to reassure him earlier in the day.


    Her tears fell freely now. "Rhaegar..."


    Seeing her father like this, and hearing Rhaegar repeat her own words, filled Rhaenyra with a deep guilt and an inexplicable embarrassment.


    "What are you crying for? It doesn''t affect my enjoyment," Viserys said gently, wrapping his arms around his daughter and kissing her head. "You''re right, resilience is one of the few things I have going for me."


    "I''m sorry..." Rhaenyra choked out, burying her head in her father''s chest. She hadn''t realized how deeply a single look or touch from him could affect her.


    Rhaegar sat on the edge of the bed and patted Rhaenyra''s head softly. "No one is ming you. Let me treat Father first."


    Rhaenyra sniffled and said, "Do it, just don''t let Father be in pain."


    Rhaegar and Viserys exchanged a helpless nce.


    "Father has many wounds on his body. Don''t be afraid," Rhaegar reminded gently as he helped his father remove his robe.


    "Don''t worry." Rhaenyra wiped her eyes and moved aside to give them space.


    Rhaegar began the treatment. Viserys, bare-chested, grimaced and groaned asionally, enduring the pain and itch as his wounds healed.


    Rhaegar was focused, using a strangely shaped serpent to draw ck smoke from each wound. Halfway through the treatment, Rhaenyra couldn''t bear to watch any longer. She quickly walked to the other side of the bed, knelt, and wrapped her arms around her father.


    Viserys leaned against her shoulder, the pain easing a bit, and forced a smile.


    After a long while, the treatment was over. Rhaenyra dressed her father in his robe, carefully smoothing out the folds.


    Rhaegar examined his father''s freshly treated hand, noting the gash that had previously been deep enough to see the bone. Now, only a faint bloodstain remained.


    "The wound is healing," Rhaegar said, a sh of inspiration lighting up his eyes. "It must be healing in the right way now."


    Though Viserys was still a bit chesty and short of breath, he looked more rxed. He watched his children, a warm smile spreading across his face. "It''ste. You should both go back to rest."


    He could see that the siblings had some unresolved issues when they entered, and he didn''t want to take up any more of their time.


    "There''s no rush," Rhaegar said, his hands still working. He looked at his father seriously. "I have some questions for you. Father, have you ever thought about taming a dragon again?"

 Chapter 296: An Old Father’s Mistake

    Chapter 296: An Old Father��s Mistake


    Viserys froze at his son''s words, looking at Rhaegar in surprise. His eldest son wasn''t joking. Viserys restrained his smile, struck dumb. The question echoed in his mind: Have you ever thought about taming a dragon again?


    Deep down, Viserys had always known the answer was "Of course!" He remembered taming his first dragon, the legendary ck Dread Balerion, thergest and oldest dragon of his time. His youthful pride and boldness drove him to pursue the strongest dragon, much like his pursuit of the Iron Throne.


    But both endeavors had their shortcuts and hidden dangers. Balerion, over two hundred years old, was already nearing death. The dragon had grown too weak to respond to the Dragonkeeper''s or ept food. No one dared approach him, let alone attempt to tame him, until Viserys met Balerion in the Dragonpit.


    Perhaps Balerion saw something in Viserys, or perhaps the dragon wanted to soar the skies onest time. They bonded, and Balerion, despite his weakness, took to the skies for one final flight. Viserys had wanted to fly Balerion back to Dragonstone for his final rest, but the old dragon couldn''t manage the journey, and half a yearter, Balerion died in the Dragonpit.


    The memory brought a wistful smile to Viserys'' face. "Taming a dragon is not child''s y, and I''m not fit to be a dragon master at my age," he said, shaking his head.


    Taming dragons was dangerous. Even if Viserys wanted to try again, the Small Council would never agree. If a dragon went berserk, the king''s life would be at risk.


    "Father, while I was in Vntis, I discovered a secret dragon taming technique unique to the top Dragonlord families," Rhaegar said, his expression serious. He began to recite the forbidden magic spell of the Berys family.


    Viserys'' face clouded, his eyes shifting as he listened. When Rhaegar finished, the pent-up emotions erupted. Clutching his son''s hand, Viserys'' voice shook with anger. "Rhaegar, tell me frankly. Did you enter a dangerous ce you shouldn''t be and undertake an adventure you shouldn''t have?"


    He didn''t believe in the so-called "coincidence." The Berys family had been a prestigious Dragonlord family, one the Targaryens could only look up to. Such top-secret knowledge couldn''t be easily stumbled upon. Given Rhaegar''s month-long disappearance in Vntis, Viserys could only think of the Smoking Sea and the Valyrian ruins.


    Rhaegar hesitated, his eyes shing with uncertainty. He didn''t dare respond hastily.


    Viserys shifted from his usual carelessness, scrutinizing every tiny detail. Turning to his daughter, he demanded sternly, "Rhaenyra, do you know anything?"


    Viserys knew how close Rhaegar and Rhaenyra were. They rarely kept secrets from each other. Rhaenyra, looking uneasy, couldn''t meet her father''s gaze.


    "Father, don''t me Rhaenyra. It was my decision," Rhaegar interjected, realizing he couldn''t evade the probing questions any longer. He decided toe clean, giving a rough ount of his trip to the Smoking Sea, carefully omitting the most dangerous details.


    Despite the omissions, Viserys was furious. His anger erupted as he pointed at Rhaegar''s head and cursed for an entire hour. The bedchamber echoed with his tirade.


    Rhaegar felt as if he wanted to shrink into nothingness. Rhaenyra, feeling implicated, stood silently, absorbing the scolding.


    When Viserys finally stopped, his voice hoarse and mouth dry, he epted a drink of fresh water from Rhaenyra. His anger began to subside.


    Rhaenyra, feeling the sting of her father''s anger, remained attentive, but her heart ached for her brother.


    Viserys grunted, his gaze scrutinizing. "Can forbidden magic spells really help tame dragons?" he asked, his voice heavy with skepticism.


    Rhaegar quietly looked up, trying to read his father''s expression. "Stop staring and answer me," Viserys snapped. "Can the secret dragon taming spell truly guarantee sess?"


    Rhaegar pondered for a moment before replying, "I can''t say for sure. Dragons possess intelligence akin to humans and choose their riders. The forbidden spell only provides some assurance."


    He knew that if he had the "flying spell," his chances of taming a dragon would increase, but the forbidden spell he learned merely reduced the dragon''s ferocity, preventing it from incinerating him with its dragonfire.


    Upon hearing this, Viserys felt a weight lift from his heart and breathed a sigh of relief. "That''s good. The more demanding dragon taming is, the more secure our family''s position remains."


    The Targaryens were thest of the Dragonlord families, and their dragons were their strongest foundation. Easy dragon taming through a simple spell would have been a dangerous liability. If such a spell were ever leaked, other imants to the Dragonlord lineage might seize the opportunity to steal dragons from Dragonstone.


    Viserys then turned his gaze to Rhaenyra. "Are the Dragonkeepers on Dragonstone Ind still sufficient?" he asked.


    Rhaenyra nodded gently. "No problem, Father. There are Dragonkeepers patrolling around Dragonmont at all times. No one can get near there."


    Since the incident of bribed Dragonkeepers, there had been a significant overhaul on Dragonstone Ind. The dragons and their Dragonkeepers were now strictly monitored and enforced.


    Satisfied, Viserys couldn''t help but dwell on the possibility of taming dragons that Rhaegar had mentioned. After a moment of contemtion, he continued, "As I recall, there are still three dragons on Dragonstone Ind?"


    Rhaegar''s eyes flickered as he replied calmly, "That''s right! Vermithor, Silverwing, and Sheepstealer."


    Almost as an afterthought, he added, "After the Kingswood hunt, I promised to take Aemond to Dragonstone to tame one of the dragons."


    "And if none of these three dragons are suitable, you could try Grey Ghost in the Isle of Faces," he suggested, implying four potential dragons to choose from.


    Viserys coughed lightly, ignoring the teasing tone in his son''s suggestion. "The taming of dragons is a matter of great importance. I will consider it carefully."


    Rhaegar lowered his head, hiding a satisfied smile. He knew the allure of taming a dragon was irresistible.


    Leaving Viserys to his thoughts, Rhaegar gestured to Rhaenyra, and they quickly left the room. After being scolded so thoroughly, neither sibling wanted to linger a moment longer.


    ...


    A white horse trotted by as the days slipped away. Outside King''s Landing, a luxurious white carriage rolled along the royal road toward the Kingswood, nked by white-robed Kingsguard on horseback. Behind them, cavalrymen held high the banner of the three-headed red dragon.


    Inside the carriage, Viserys, draped in a ck cloak, was in high spirits. "Isn''t this great? Our whole family heading to the Kingswood for an adventure together?" he eximed.


    He sat on a soft cushion on the left side of the carriage, with a sleepy Aegon on his right near the horses and a sharply dressed Hena on his left. Alicent sat across from him, facing the door, with young Daeron lying on herp. Rhaegar and Rhaenyra upied the remaining cushion on the right, with a silent Aemond huddled beside them.


    Hearing their father''s question, the six children remained silent, none offering a response. The atmosphere grew tense.


    Rhaenyra nudged Rhaegar with her shoulder, and the siblings exchanged amused nces.


    Alicent finally broke the silence, disying the grace of a good wife and mother. "Very well, it''s been a long time since we''ve been to the Kingswood," she said gently.


    ng!


    The carriage jolted violently as the wheels rolled over a rock. Alicent, wrapped in pale red fox fur, struggled to steady herself, clutching Daeron to her chest.


    "Pfft..." Aegon couldn''t suppress hisughter and quickly covered his mouth.


    Viserys, seeing this, smiled ruefully and fell silent. He knew why he had ended up in this situation.


    The journey to the Kingswood had been proposed by Rhaegar, with unanimous agreement from the children to travel by dragon. Even Aemond, whocked a dragon, wanted to ride with Aegon on Sunfyre.


    Viserys had strongly opposed this, insisting that the Kingswood trip should be on horseback. As a result, the dragon riders were now crammed into a spacious carriage.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal''s loud and clear roar echoed high in the sky not far from the carriage. Aemond''s spirits lifted as he eagerly pulled open the curtains to glimpse the scene outside.


    In the azure sky, several dragons of different sizes spread their wings and soared. The ck-as-charcoal Cannibal led the way, with the golden Syrax and Sunfyre yfully chasing behind.


    Hoo!


    A light blue dragon, Dreamfyre, shed past, gracefully soaring.


    "Roar..."


    Tessarion, with dark blue scales and copper highlights, hung far behind, roaring as it tried to catch up.


    Aemond''s eyes filled with envy as he murmured, "It''s beautiful!"


    Despite Viserys'' insistence, the dragon riders had found a way to apany their dragons. Privately releasing several dragons from the Dragonpit, they now escorted the carriage to the Kingswood.


    Viserys sighed as he heard the dragons'' roars, feeling the children''s rebellion against his wishes. Rhaegar looked out the window and turned to his father with a smile. "Father, this Kingswood hunt is meant to impress the Stornds'' nobles. How can we not bring our dragons?"


    Hena eagerly nodded, her head adorned with a pired headpiece.


    "Yes, Rhaegar is right," Aegon chimed in, raising his hand.


    Even Daeron, lying drowsily in Alicent''sp, opened his eyes and grunted in agreement.


    He was young and rarely had the chance to ride a dragon. This trip, arranged by his older siblings, was a rare opportunity vetoed by his father.

 Chapter 297: Lyonel Disciplines His Son

    Chapter 297: Lyonel Disciplines His Son


    Viserys sighed softly, smiling wryly at theints from his children. "Don''t make your father seem so uncaring," he said. "The people fear the dragons because they��re so powerful."


    Hena, with her round eyes wide, asked innocently, "But why should they fear us if we don��t do bad things?"


    Viserys was momentarily stunned, embarrassment shing in his eyes. He knew everyone had their own misdeeds, and dragons'' power was inherently fearsome.


    Alicent intervened with a smile. "Hena, your dragon is too fierce. It''s natural for people to be afraid."


    Hena blinked, her confusion clear. "Oh, okay."


    Viserys smiled at his well-behaved, adorable daughter, pulling her into his arms and rubbing her head. Hena leaned into her father, wrapping her arms around his waist.


    Feeling his youngest daughter''s warmth, Viserys''s smile deepened. He looked at Alicent and sighed, "Alicent, you''ve given me wonderful children."


    "It''s our children," Alicent replied, her eyes gentle. She knew exactly how to touch her husband''s heart.


    The children, watching their parents'' tender exchange, fell silent. Rhaenyra��s eyes shed with a hint of contempt, unwilling to witness her former friend so close to her father. Beside her, Rhaegar leaned back, staring out the window.


    Murmuring to himself about the forbidden magic spells, Rhaegar��s thoughts wandered. Half a month ago, Viserys had learned the spell but hesitated to use it for taming dragons on Dragonstone Ind. Rhaegar couldn��t force his father��s decision and suggested teaching the spell to the rest of the Targaryens.


    Viserys had refused, saying, "Targaryens are products of disorder and arrogance. Venturing into magic will only bring disaster!"


    Rhaegar realized his father was right. The Targaryen House was disorganized, with scattered members. Daemon was unpredictable, and the three brothers born to Alicent were not entirely loyal to their eldest sibling. Targaryens, proud because of their dragons, would not settle for less. Daemon��s unpredictability was a prime example.


    "What are you thinking about, so lost in thought?" Rhaenyra��s soft voice broke his reverie as she gently brushed her hand across his face.


    Rhaegar smiled, "Nothing, just thinking it''s been a while since we visited the Kingswood."


    "Really?" Rhaenyra was skeptical.


    Rhaegar shrugged, toozy to lie. Seeing his nonchnt attitude, Rhaenyraughed. "We��ll arrive at the Kingswood soon. Rest a while."


    She helped him lie back, his head resting on herp. Alicent, seeing this,ughed. "The first time we went hunting in the Kingswood, Rhaegar was smaller than Daeron andy in your arms just like this."


    Rhaenyra smiled without replying. If it weren��t for her father and siblings all being in the same carriage, she wouldn��t have bothered with Alicent at all. Being a stepmother really required maintaining appearances.


    ...


    By noon, the group finally arrived at the camp on the edge of the Kingswood, having navigated through a muddy stretch of road from the melted snow. The Kingsguard on white horses entered the camp first, announcing the arrival of the royal family.


    The camp was bustling with colorful tents, bonfires, and food, filled with nobles from all over the realm.


    "Phew~"


    The carriage halted in an open area at the camp''s entrance. The thick door slowly opened under the watchful eyes of the assembled nobles and knights.


    Viserys stepped out first, smiling and waving at the gathered nobility as he descended from the carriage with the help of a short stool. Alicent followed, elegantly dressed in a pale yellow gown and a red cloak, taking her husband��s hand as she stepped down.


    "Your Grace the King... Your Grace the Queen..."


    The nobles erupted in cheers and apuse, greeting the king and queen enthusiastically.


    Rhaegar was the third to emerge, surveying the camp with keen eyes.


    Thud.


    He jumped off the carriage, then turned to assist Rhaenyra, gently helping her down. Rhaenyra habitually opened her arms, smiling.


    "Brother, hug," Hena called, squeezing her way to the carriage door with outstretched arms.


    Rhaegarughed softly. "Of course."


    Rhaenyra gave him a warning look but said nothing. She had already warned him privately.


    Aegon, squeezed to the side, grumbled impatiently, "What''s with all the squeezing?"


    The family then proceeded together towards the main tent. Along the way, nobles cheered and celebrated their presence.


    Rhaenyra held Rhaegar��s hand as they walked behind their father and Alicent. Rhaegar felt the warmth of his sister��s touch, smiling gently while scanning the nobles around them.


    Near the entrance, Lyonel Strong, cloaked and riding a ck horse, watched the scene with gleaming eyes. Beside him were his sons, Harwinand Larys, who stood on the ground observing the royal family.


    "Ahem..."


    Larys coughed lightly, keeping his head down and his eyes wandering.


    Among the crowd, a middle-aged man with a constant smile and a familiarrge nose caught Rhaegar''s attention.


    "That''s HobertHightower, remember?" Rhaenyra whispered.


    Rhaegar nodded, smirking. "Of course, the big-nosed fool."


    Hobert Hightower, Lord of the Hightower House and Otto''s brother, had attended Rhaegar��s coronation as heir. He stood with a haughty noblewoman and a sturdy young man.


    The siblings continued to talk andugh as they recognized more familiar faces. Near an isted fence stood Daemon, Laena, and their twin daughters.


    Rhaegar exchanged a look with Daemon, who gazed back with an intense, aggressive expression.


    ...


    Soon, the family entered the main tent.


    "Your Grace, it''s been too long."


    As soon as Rhaegar entered, he saw a figure with blonde hair striding forward,ughing loudly in a disy of self-assured bravado.


    Viserys recognized the man and greeted him warmly. "Lord Jason, indeed it has been a long time."


    The neer was none other than Jason Lannister, the Warden of the West and Lord of Casterly Rock. With his curly blonde hair, thick beard, andvish attire adorned with the crest of the Roaring Lion, Jason exuded arrogance, often looking down his nose at others.


    After greeting the king, Jason turned his attention to Alicent, saying courteously, "Your Grace, you are as beautiful as ever."


    He then took Alicent''s hand and kissed it with an air of exaggerated honor.


    Alicent''s smile was forced as she replied, "You are still as valiant as ever, Lord Jason."


    She felt ufortable every time she interacted with Jason, the egomaniac.


    Noticing his wife''s difort, Viserys intervened. "Alright, let''s not block the entrance. Let''s go inside and talk."


    "Please, Your Grace,e in." Jason''s smile remained unyielding.


    As he turned around, his eyes briefly lingered on Rhaenyra, seemingly disappointed that he couldn��t greet her directly.


    Rhaegar gave Jason a cursory nce, feeling a slight tingle of irritation.


    "Prince," a voice called from the corner of the tent.


    It was Erryk, dressed in silver armor and white robes. Rhaenyra��s eyes flickered as she and Rhaegar approached him, finding a secluded spot behind one of the tent''s pirs.


    Rhaegar''s expression turned serious as he asked, "Any news?"


    "None," Erryk replied, his face grim. "I''ve searched the entire Red Keep, but there''s no sign of the woman you described."


    Rhaegar frowned. "Alys Rivers�� features are very distinctive. Anyone who��s seen her should remember her."


    Alys Rivers was a dangerous figure, suspected to be the bastard daughter or nursemaid of Hand of the King Lyonel Strong. Old Tully had warned that she might have defected to Larys Strong and was now lurking in the Red Keep. Rhaegar had tasked Erryk with finding her discreetly, to avoid alerting their enemies. Yet there had been no trace of her.


    "Prince, there are no buxom women with green eyes and prominent features in the Red Keep," Erryk said helplessly. "Could she be hiding in an outer mansion or somewhere outside the castle?"


    "It''s possible," Rhaegar conceded. "But continue searching the Red Keep thoroughly. Don��t overlook any detail."


    His mind was racing, ever vignt.


    ...


    Meanwhile, in the camp''s horse stable, Lyonel dismounted and tethered his mount.


    As he turned around, he noticed his two sons, Harwin and Larys, lingering near the fence, each gazing intently in different directions.


    "You two,e here!" Lyonel barked, his anger evident.


    "Yes, father," Harwin responded hastily, reluctantly tearing his gaze away.


    "What are you looking at?" Lyonel demanded, frowning as he followed Harwin''s line of sight.


    In the distance, the backs of the king''s family were barely visible. Lyonel''s anger red, and heshed his eldest son with a horsewhip. "Put away your foolish thoughts, you unproductive fool!"


    "I wasn''t��" Harwin began to protest, his head bowed.


    Snap! Snap! Lyonel struck him twice more with the whip. "Whether you were or not, you''re past the age of marriage. Take this opportunity during the Kingswood hunt to find a suitable nobledy."


    "Father..." Harwin looked up in surprise, but before he could finish, anothersh from the whip nearly struck his face.


    "Shut up and show me you can change," Lyonel growled, gritting his teeth.


    Reluctantly, Harwin nodded in agreement, looking disheveled and chastised.


    "Ahem..." Larys limped closer, his presence entuated by his deliberate coughs.

 Chapter 298: Dragons and Lions

    Chapter 298: Dragons and Lions


    Larys''s coughing caught the attention of his father and brother.


    He walkedboriously to his elder brother''s side, casting a nce at his father before saying humbly, "Brother, it is time for you to marry and carry on the family name."


    "I know, Larys," Harwin muttered, clearly in a foul mood.


    Larys''s eyes glinted with shrewdness. "I just saw the prince and princess walking hand in hand into the tent. They truly are a match made in heaven."


    Harwin stiffened, eyeing his brother warily.


    "Don''t look at me like that; everyone is saying it," Larys added with an ambiguous smile.


    "Shut up, Larys!" Lyonel snapped. "These fantasies of yours are dangerous and need to stop."


    Larys blushed and smiled apologetically. "Yes, father."


    Lyonel''s stern expression softened slightly as he lowered his voice. "Where did that woman go?"


    "Who?" Larys feigned ignorance.


    Lyonel''s face darkened, his riding crop pointing at Larys. "Don''t y dumb. Where is Alys Rivers hiding?"


    "Father, if Alys Rivers is sneaking around, how would I know?" Larys hunched over, trying to appear as humble as possible. "If I knew where she was, I would have told you immediately."


    Lyonel''s suspicion remained. "You truly don''t know?"


    "A thousand times, no," Larys replied sincerely.


    Lyonel''s eyes flickered. Heshed his son''s shoulder with the riding crop and said, "Whether you know or not, remember that she is a danger. Do you understand?"


    When the Strong House moved to Harrenhal, Alys Rivers had suddenly disappeared. Initially, it was thought she had been left behind or separated during the journey. Lyonel, having developed a fondness for her, had sent people to search for her. Rumors linked her to the Red Keep, where even Prince Rhaegar had conducted a thorough but fruitless search.


    Lyonel suspected his second son had a close rtionship with Alys and was testing him.


    Larys took half a step back and lowered his head. "You can rest assured, father."


    "Hmph! You brothers take care of yourselves," Lyonel snorted, tossing the riding crop into Harwin''s arms before storming off.


    Both sons were a constant source of concern.


    As soon as their father left, Harwin''s frown deepened and he followed him out of the stable.


    Larys stayed where he was, lifting his head slightly. His gray-brown eyes followed his father and brother, a calcting look on his face.


    ...


    Inside the main tent, Viserys was all smiles, seated at the head of the table and exchanging pleasantries with the various lords and knights.


    He loved lively gatherings, and the Kingswood hunt was one of his favorite events.


    "Your Grace, you must visit Casterly Rock someday. The honeyed wine there is truly mesmerizing," Jason said, holding a ss of red wine and boasting.


    Viserys saw through his ploy and replied with a smirk, "Lord Jason, if you really wanted me to taste it, you should have brought a shipload with you."


    Jason was momentarily speechless and shrugged it off. "I was in a hurry to get here. Next time, for sure."


    "Very well, I look forward to it," Viserys said graciously.


    The primary invitees for the Kingswood hunt were the nobles of the king''s domain and the Stornds, but Viserys, seeking even more excitement, had extended invitations to lords from neighboring regions as well, including the Lannisters of the Westends, the Hightowers of Oldtown, and the Redwynes of the Arbor.


    "Your Grace," Otto approached with a solemn face.


    Viserys was in the middle of raising a ss with someone and couldn''t immediately attend to the Master of Civil Affairs. After finishing his drink, he noticed Daemon entering the tent with his family, apanied by a woman with dark hair streaked with silver.


    "Viserys!" Rhaenys greeted cheerfully, stepping forward with her cousin and daughter.


    Viserys put down his ss and said in surprise, "Cousin, you��re all here."


    "Brother," Daemon greeted with a nod, his expression nd.


    "Find a seat and join me for a drinkter," Viserys said happily. Noticing the absence of a familiar face, he asked, "Lord Corlys didn''te?"


    Rhaenys sighed, "Corlys always has a ton of business to attend to."


    "Haha,pared to him, it looks like I''m the king who doesn��t do any work," Viserys teased,ughing loudly.


    A few years ago, Corlys and House Vryon had been a source of tension for him, constantly stirring up trouble. But now, he was at ease, joking casually.


    Sensing her cousin''s warmth, Rhaenys shook her head with a smile. "You never change, do you?"


    Despite her words, a touch of sadness crossed her eyes. Laena, sensing her mother''s feelings, took her hand and offered aforting nce, her other hand resting on her slightly bulging belly.


    ...


    Rhaegar parted ways with Erryk and soon encountered another familiar face��Tnd Lannister.


    Tnd, far more handsome than his brother Jason, had neatlybed blonde hair and a meticulously trimmed beard, making him a striking figure.


    "Prince, we meet again," Tnd greeted with enthusiasm, stepping forward with a beaming smile.


    Three years ago, after leading a failed sneak attack on Gray Gallows Ind, Tnd had been stripped of his position as Master of Ships and nearly faced severe consequences. Rhaegar had provided him a lifeline by assigning him to oversee the construction of the Prince''s Pce on the Dornish bordends, making him one of Rhaegar''s staff.


    As Tnd approached, Rhaegar smiled warmly. "I haven''t seen you in half a year. How have you been?"


    "All is well," Tnd replied, nodding eagerly.


    After the initial pleasantries, Rhaegar got to the point. "There have been issues with the supplies for the Prince''s Pce. Do you know what''s causing the problem?"


    Tnd''s expression shifted slightly, and he whispered, "I''ve personally visited the noble territories involved. It seems the orders came from Lord Borros."


    "Very well Borros, I will remember this," Rhaegar sneered.


    After discussing the Prince''s Pce further, their conversation drifted to other matters. Tnd hesitated before speaking worriedly, "Prince, thousands of Dornish refugees are gathering at Vulture''s Roost near the Boneway. It seems suspicious."


    "Has there been any response from Sunspear?" Rhaegar frowned.


    "No. Prince Qoren is preupied with establishing diplomatic rtions with Braavos," Tnd said regretfully.


    After a moment of thought, Rhaegar said, "The Boneway is treacherous terrain, difficult to traverse. Ensure that House Dondarrion of ckhaven increases their patrols and garrisons."


    A few thousand refugees didn''t concern him much. The Boneway was a narrow, hazardous path where a single misstep could lead to a fatal fall. The Dondarrion House guarded the exit, and even arge army would struggle to break through their defenses.


    Before they could continue, Rhaenyra called out to Rhaegar. He apologized, "I need to attend to something."


    "Of course, Prince. Make yourself at home," Tnd said with a smile.


    The construction of the Prince''s Pce was more than halfwaypleted, and maintaining a good rtionship with the Heir was crucial for Tnd''s return to prominence.


    ...


    The tent was crowded as Rhaegar made his way through, exchanging greetings with the nobles. He approached the main seat where Rhaenys stood, elegantly dressed.


    "Aunt," he greeted with a smile.


    "Rhaegar," Rhaenys responded warmly, stepping forward to hug her nephew.


    Rhaegar bent slightly to amodate the embrace and casually asked, "Lord Corlys didn''te?"


    "You''re just like your father��always more interested in Corlys than me," Rhaenys sighed, half in jest. "He decided to stay on Driftmark and didn''t want to participate in the hunt."


    Rhaegar nodded and moved on to greet Daemon and Laena.


    At that moment, Otto approached Viserys, who was sitting and enjoying the gathering. "Your Grace, the messenger reported that Lord Borros is on his way and will arrive shortly."


    Viserys'' smile vanished. "I''ve arrived, and he''s eventer than me?"


    "The messenger said the carriage broke down," Otto exined.


    Viserys dismissed the excuse with a wave. "What do you think?"


    "The truth is unknown, but Lord Borros was not on time," Otto replied nonchntly.


    Viserys mmed his wine goblet onto the table, his face darkening. "His arrogance is astounding. He dares to arriveter than the king!"


    The nearby nobles overheard the conversation. Jason''s eyes gleamed as he interjected, "Your Grace, Borros Baratheon has disrespected the royal family and should be punished."


    Viserys eyed him skeptically. "Oh? And what do you suggest, Lord Jason?"


    "Borros is unfit to be the Lord of Storm��s End. Strip him of his title and rece him with a descendant of Lord Bormond��s cousin," Jason proposed eagerly. "This will serve as a warning and secure the loyalty of the new lord."


    A tense silence followed Jason''s suggestion. Otto observed quietly, his expression unreadable.


    Viserys, now intrigued, asked, "Lord Jason, what crime should I punish Lord Borros for?"


    Otto smirked slightly, adding, "Perhaps for having a broken wheel and beingte to the camp."


    "No! That''s not a reason," Jason protested. "Lord Borros has obstructed the supply of materials for the Prince''s Pce, intentionally causing difficulties for the royal family."


    Viserys'' expression hardened. "Do you have any evidence to support this im?"


    "Uh..." Jason faltered, realizing his error. Under the king''s intense gaze, he stammered, "Not exactly, but it''smon knowledge..."


    "Common knowledge?" Viserys interrupted, his voice dripping with disdain. "And who is this ''everyone''?"


    He loathed Jason''s sycophantic behavior and his baseless usations. If he intended to punish Borros severely, he would need concrete evidence, not hearsay.

 Chapter 299: The Deterrence of Dragons

    Chapter 299: The Deterrence of Dragons


    Jason''s face turned red from the reprimand, and he stammered, unable to utter a single coherent word.


    Otto seized the moment. "Your Grace, it appears many are attempting to second-guess your intentions."


    "No! That''s not what I meant at all," Jason gulped, hastily denying it.


    At that moment, Lyonel entered the tent with a stern expression. "Your Grace, Lord Borros'' party has arrived at the camp nearby."


    Seeing an opportunity to escape, Jason mumbled, "If you''ll excuse me, I have urgent business to attend to," and hurriedly slipped away from the main seat, retreating quietly.


    Viserys snorted in irritation. "If Borros is here, he shoulde to see me immediately. I won��t go out to greet him."


    The king''s stance was firm and unyielding.


    Lyonel responded calmly, "I''ll send one of the Kingsguard to receive him."


    Given Borros'' status, sending a Kingsguard to greet him was appropriate.


    "Wait," Rhaegar interrupted. "Since Lord Borros was invited, it��s better if I go to greet him."


    "You?" Viserys raised an eyebrow.


    Rhaegar''s lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Not just me��I''ll bring Aegon and the others along."


    Viserys, recognizing the mischief in his son''s eyes, chuckled. "Very well, take your siblings with you."


    Rhaegar nodded and turned to leave.


    Just then, Grand Maester Mellos approached the tform, carrying a satchel. "Your Grace, it''s time to change your bandage."


    "Of course," Viserys extended his injured left hand.


    Mellos carefully unwrapped the bandage, removed the caked ointment, and applied a freshyer of medicinal salve.


    The process was routine and unremarkable, but Rhaegar, on his way out, noticed the wound on his father''s hand had festered slightly. It had been a month since thest treatment, and it was not unexpected for the wound to have worsened.


    However, something about Mellos�� methodical movements caught Rhaegar''s attention. His purple eyes flickered with suspicion before he strode out of the tent.


    ...


    It didn''t take long for Rhaegar to find Aegon and Aemond in the pic area near the main tent. Meanwhile, Hena and Daeron were with Alicent in another tent, mingling with some noblewomen.


    Rhaegar walked calmly into thedies'' tent and exined his intentions to Alicent.


    Alicent, holding a cushion and a ss of wine, looked surprised. "Daeron is only seven years old. Is he going too?"


    "There''s nothing he can''t handle. I was riding dragons when I was six," Rhaegar replied, not giving her a chance to object. He called Hena and Daeron, who were both eager to leave.


    Alicent''s brows furrowed in concern as she watched her children leave, clutching her wine ss tightly.


    Rhaegar, already on his way out with his siblings, didn''t look back. Outside the tent, Daeron cheered and bounded ahead, relieved to escape thepany of middle-aged noblewomen who wore overpowering perfume.


    Rhaegar pressed forward, indifferent to Alicent''s thoughts. This queen indeed loved her children, but her love was stifling. Under Otto''s stern influence, she constantly repressed and disciplined their every move, treating them like pets in captivity.


    ...


    Outside the camp, on the dirt roads, several luxurious carriages rattled along, nked by two teams of Storm Knights adorned in armor and shields bearing the crest of the Stag.


    ��Damn broken road, it really needs to be widened and repaired!�� Borros grumbled inside one of the leading wagons, his words coarse and filled with annoyance.


    Beside him sat Lady Elenda, apanied by their four daughters of varying ages.


    ��Borros, we are alreadyte,�� Elenda said, her tone exasperated as she held her forehead, trying to persuade her husband to speak less.


    ��So what? Should we still have to wait for that old man?�� Borros retorted, his eyes rounding with frustration. ��The king is looking for trouble with me over the supply issues. It��s not like I��m going to just take it lying down.��


    Elenda sighed at her husband''s arrogance and haughtiness. "The king has specially organized this Kingswood hunt; he won��t let this go easily."


    Coming from Night Song City in the Dornish Bordends, Elenda was acutely aware of the potential for crisis. But Borros dismissed her concerns and grew even more smug. "The king is weak. He organized this hunt because he wants his second son to marry our daughter and secure Baratheon support."


    The four Baratheon girls exchanged nces, each showing a touch of disdain. None of them wanted to marry the king��s second son. At thest funeral, they had secretly admired the king��s eldest son, Rhaegar Targaryen��a powerful and skilled warrior, tall and handsome.


    Elenda scanned her husband and daughters, then sighed and lowered her head. ��I hope you��re right.��


    Not far from the camp, the party quickened their pace, soon seeing the fortifications at the camp��s outskirts. Borros straightened his silk robes over his bloated figure and said solemnly, ��We��re almost there. Show the pride of House Baratheon.��


    The carriages halted at the gate, with no space inside the camp. The coachman lowered a small stool for the family to alight. Borros stepped out first, holding his potbelly, his head tilted high in pride.


    A deafening dragon roar resounded, and the sun was momentarily blotted out. Startled, Borros looked up. A massive ck dragon soared from the direction of the Kingswood, its wings casting a shadow over the entire camp. The dragon��s green vertical pupils locked onto the group below.


    In the next instant, the dragon bare its fangs, and green Dragonfire misted from its mouth. The horses panicked, struggling until their legs buckled. Borros, standing on the stool, was thrown into a muddy puddle, screaming in terror.


    Dragonfire did not descend. The dark green mes cut through the sky, the ck dragon pping its wings and stirring up a gust of wind. Following its roar, several more dragons of different colors rose from the Kingswood, each spitting Dragonfire as they flew over the camp.


    ��Roar...��


    Aegon rode on Sunfyre''s back, his hair flying wildly in the wind.


    Nearby, Tessarion, carrying the slender Daeron, pped his wings excitedly, spewing azure Dragonfire. Hena rode Dreamfyre, the secondrgest dragon after Cannibal, with an excited Aemond squeezed into the saddle behind her.


    "Roar!" Dreamfyre, known for her nasty disposition, roared and swooped down, her light blue scales glinting as she passed over a wagon, sweeping out a scorching gale. The carriage shook violently, its wheels creaking in the howling wind. The white horses pulling the carriage frothed at the mouth, convulsing and copsing from stress.


    "Alert!"manded a stalwart-faced middle-aged man, his armor depicting dense nightingales on a yellow background. He was Royce of House Caron of Nightsong, Borros'' father-inw. Royce unsheathed his longsword and quickly stepped forward to protect Borros, his lord and son-inw.


    The Stornds Knights followed suit, drawing their swords, picking up their shields, and quickly forming a formation. Unfortunately, their horses were too frightened by Dreamfyre and fell to the ground, forcing the knights to gather on foot.


    As the Stornds Knights prepared, the guards at the camp''s entrance responded by drawing their swords.


    "All stop!" Amanding shout came from inside the camp, filled with an unyielding authority. Borros, casting his gaze in surprise and anger, saw Rhaegar striding forward, nked by two silver-armored Kingsguard.


    Seeing Rhaegar, Borros immediately recognized this as a challenge. Humiliated in front of his wife, daughters, and knights, his anger boiled over. He pushed away Royce and yelled, "Prince Rhaegar, is this how Targaryens show hospitality, by attacking with dragons?"


    "Lord Borros, mind your words," Rhaegar replied coldly. "As we all know, dragons are dangerous beasts and sometimes lose their temper."


    The implication was clear��Targaryens could also lose their temper. Borros, missing the deeper meaning, let his anger cloud his judgment. "Who do you take for a fool? It''s obvious your siblings are deliberately riding those dragons to provoke us!"


    Rhaegar nced at the dragons soaring in the sky and said indifferently, "You misunderstand. They''re still learning to ride properly. They were just practicing."


    Looking at the Baratheon family��s carriage, Rhaegar added with a faint smile, "I apologize if they frightened your family."


    The message was clear: this was just a small warning.


    Borros, enraged, was about tosh out, but Royce quickly intervened. "Don''t be impulsive. It''s a felony to challenge the Heir."


    "This is a setup," Borros fumed.


    Rhaegar''s smile widened. "Lord Borros, the dragons will soon be calmed. Please pardon us."


    As if on cue, the sky resounded with Cannibal��s roar. The massive ck dragon shook its body mid-air, then slowly flew away, its vast wings spread wide. As Cannibal left, the remaining dragons ceased their roars, circling low in the sky, their vertical pupils locked onto the Baratheon group.


    "Sunfyre, a little lower," Aegon urged, still unsatisfied. Sunfyre shook its head, its golden scales shimmering in the sunlight, its pink wing membranes brilliant and colorful.


    Without waiting tond, Sunfyre��s wings pped fiercely, sending a gust of wind mixed with the smell of sulfur across the camp��s entrance. The wind ruffled Rhaegar''s silver hair and made hispel flutter. Even Rhaegar, standing with his back to the wind, felt its force, while Borros and his group struggled to stay on their feet and keep their eyes open.


    As the wind died down, Rhaegar turned his head silently, his eyes fixing on Sunfyre and Aegon, who had justnded in the camp''s open space.

 Chapter 300: Fleeing Sunfyre

    Chapter 300: Fleeing Sunfyre


    ��Roar...��


    Sunfyrended with a powerful thud, his wings spreading wide as he stretched his neck and roared. The gathered nobles at the camp entrance scattered in terror, pulling back in panic.


    If this continued, chaos was inevitable.


    Ignoring Borros'' shouts, Rhaegar spoke coldly, "Aegon, control your dragon."


    There was no need for Sunfyre to intimidate loyal nobles; Aegon was overstepping his bounds.


    "Che, Sunfyre is fine," Aegon scoffed, urging Sunfyre to settle down.


    Unperturbed, Sunfyre''s golden body shimmered as he unted his pale pink wing membranes. Royce, standing protectively in front of Borros, taunted, "Prince Rhaegar, it seems your dragons are indeed disobedient."


    Borros, his face contorted in anger, snarled, "I will seek justice from the king!"


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed coldly as he confronted Borros. The tension between them dropped the air temperature as if below freezing.


    Above, Hena and Daeron noticed the escting tension andnded their dragons, looking concerned.


    ��Roar...��


    Sunfyre continued to cause trouble, golden Dragonfire flickering from his maw as he shook his head. Rhaegar turned his back to Aegon and spoke coldly, "Aegon, must I repeat myself?"


    Seeing the gravity of the situation, Aegon hurriedly tried to calm Sunfyre. "Sunfyre, quiet down!"


    ��Roar...��


    Sunfyre, ignoring Aegon, crawled toward the camp entrance, roaring defiantly. It seemed he viewed Rhaegar as an enemy.


    Feeling the hot, foul-smelling breath behind him, Rhaegar turned to face the unruly dragon.


    Sunfyre snorted, spreading his wings and casting a shadow over Rhaegar, seemingly forgetting the fear Cannibal once instilled in him.


    In full view, man and dragon faced off.


    "Aegon, tell Sunfyre to stand down!" Hena shouted in rm.


    Aegon jumped from the saddle, tugging on Sunfyre''s scales. "Sunfyre, behave!"


    ��Roar...��


    Sunfyre shook his body, annoyed at Aegon, and roared at Rhaegar again, lowering his head and revealing his menacing teeth.


    Rhaegar��s face hardened, his eyes flickering with green dragon stripes. He raised a palm and bellowed in High Valyrian, "Sunfyre, get down!"


    As the words left his mouth, mes erupted from his palm, forming a dragon-shaped crest. In an instant, the cruelty in Sunfyre��s eyes faded, reced by fear. Its golden body trembled, submitting to themanding presence of Rhaegar.


    ��Roar����


    Sunfyre shrieked in rm, retreating rapidly and pping his wings in panic. He rose into the air, fleeing as if pursued by a terrifying beast.


    ��No, no, no! Stop it!��


    Aegon, having failed to secure his chains, was thrown off Sunfyre''s back as the dragon lifted violently. Fortunately, he wasn''t far from the ground, and Aegonnded with a thud, rolling to cushion the impact.


    ��Roar����


    Ignoring his fallen rider, Sunfyre soared low and disappeared into the dense Kingswood, leaving the onlookers in stunned silence.


    What had they just witnessed? The prince, with mes in his hands, hadmanded a dragon into submission!


    ��Brother!��


    Hena cried out, swiftly sliding off Dreamfyre''s back and running to Rhaegar''s side. Daeron dismounted as well, barking at Tessarion to exit the camp, then following on his short legs.


    Rhaegar, observing the astonishment on the faces of the crowd, felt a serene confidence. He had used a technique from the "forbidden spell" tomand Sunfyre.


    This spell, typically employed by dragonlords to control young dragons, wasn��t usually potent enough to scare away a dragon like Sunfyre. However, Rhaegar''s unique connection to the Cannibal allowed him to borrow its fearsome presence,pelling Sunfyre to flee as if avoiding a predator.


    Holding Hena and Daeron close, Rhaegar turned to the dumbfounded Borros. In the man''s terrified eyes, Rhaegar sighed softly and asked, "What justice do you seek?"


    ��Roar����


    At that moment, the Cannibal descended from the sky, its massive, pitch-ck form casting a shadow over the camp. It didn''tnd, but cast a menacing nce at Borros before turning to chase Sunfyre into the Kingswood.


    Borros, recognizing the true purpose of the Kingswood hunt, stammered nervously, "No, nothing."


    Rhaegar smiled slightly, "Very well, then. I will escort you to pay respects to my father."


    Satisfied with the disy, Rhaegar led Hena and Daeron back, nked by the two Kingsguard. As they walked through the camp, the gathered nobles watched with a mixture of fervor, fear, and awe. The admiration for Rhaegar''s strength overshadowed their fear.


    ��Prince Rhaegar! ����


    ��The Young Dragonlord! ����


    The nobles erupted in cheers, pping resoundingly through the camp. Titles and honors once attributed to Rhaegar were revived in their praises.


    Rhaegar, his expression unchanged, acknowledged the cheers with a calm sweep of his gaze. These people were, after all, his subjects.


    As he passed, Aegon, who was being helped up by Aemond, grimaced and wailed in mock agony. Rhaegar nced at him briefly, then moved on without a word.


    ...


    It was past noon.


    Borros had changed out of his mud-soaked clothes and now led his family into the main tent with palpable trepidation.


    Upon entering, five figures kneeling on the ground immediately caught their eyes.


    Borros'' heart skipped a beat. These were all nobles he recognized��lords from families that had refused to supply materials for the king''s honorarium.


    Trembling, Borros crossed the room, his eyes scanning the tent nervously.


    Viserys sat at the head of the tent, nked by several royal advisers. Apart from them, only Rhaenys, Daemon, and a few of the king''s children were present. All other non-essential personnel had been dismissed.


    "Your Grace, Baratheon sends his greetings," Borros said, bowing low, his previous arrogance utterly gone.


    Viserys barely acknowledged him, his gaze instead falling on the four girls behind Borros.


    The girls, ranging in age from about sixteen or seventeen to four or five, stood nervously.


    "Aegon,e here," Viserys called out to his son, who hung his head in the corner.


    Turning to the girls, Viserys smiled kindly, "I need to discuss some matters with your father. Why don''t you go outside with my children for a while?"


    He then waved dismissively at Aegon, "Take your siblings and go."


    Aegon, head still bowed, responded, "Yes, father," and led his siblings out of the tent, followed by the four Baratheon girls, who left at their mother Elenda''s urging.


    The dragons had terrified them when they arrived at the camp, and the tension was evident on their faces.


    Viserys then turned to the gentle Lady Elenda. "Lady Elenda, you should leave as well," he said, indicating that all non-essential individuals should exit.


    Along with the royal advisers, Rhaenys and Daemon remained, while Rhaenyra touched Rhaegar''s hand, their silentmunication evident.


    Understanding her intention, Rhaegar nodded to his father and followed Rhaenyra out.


    Once the tent was clear, Viserys threw a stack of papers at Borros, hitting him hard on the head. "Look at your bannermen! Their fiefs are not facing disaster, yet they refuse to supply building materials!"


    Over the past month, the true state of the noble fiefdoms had been investigated thoroughly.


    Outside the tent, the sounds of Borros'' panicked and helpless defenses could be heard.


    It wasn''t long before five bloodied heads were hung on the camp''s pirs for public disy.


    Borros had been forced to execute them himself, in front of everyone.


    Blood sttered all over his head and face, staining his expensive clothes once again.


    ...


    On the other side of the camp, Alicent and a group of women were entertaining Lady Elenda, leading her to the tent where the women were meeting. Rhaenyra and Rhaegar walked side by side, drawing the attention of many nobledies and young maidens.


    Halfway there, Rhaenyra yfully pouted and insisted Rhaegar not apany her further, worried that he would attract too much attention from the eager noblewomen. Rhaegar, not wanting to mingle in the heavily perfumed crowd, agreed and changed his course towards the maester''s tents near the main tent.


    In a few strides, he reached the entrance of one such tent. From behind the curtain, he could hear voices inside. Lifting the curtain, he entered and was greeted by a gray-robed maester with dark skin and close-cropped hair.


    "Prince," the maester greeted, clearly ttered, and set aside the herbs he was working with to bow.


    "Rise, Orwyle," Rhaegar said, motioning for him to stand.


    Orwyle wiped his hands clean and responded respectfully, "Yes, Prince."


    Rhaegar nced at the table covered with various herbs and medical equipment. "You seem well-versed in herbology and medicine," he remarked.


    If memory served him correctly, Orwyle was an assistant to Grand Maester Mellos and had yed a role in treating his father.


    Cautiously, Orwyle replied, "I''ve earned my maester''s chain link in both fields."


    Rhaegar continued, seemingly offhandedly, "How does your knowledgepare to that of the Grand Maester?"


    Orwyle hesitated, a look of conflict crossing his face. "It should be... simr," he said cautiously, not wanting to appear arrogant.


    Rhaegar narrowed his eyes, sensing the maester''s humility and underlying frustration.


    He lowered the curtain and approached the desk, picking up a white flower. The finished product of this flower was often mashed into a pulp and solidified into milky white beads. "This is a Poppy?" he asked.


    "Yes," Orwyle confirmed, adding, "The king asionally drinks a small sip of poppy milk to relieve pain, especially during the night."


    Rhaegar''s expression darkened. He hadn''t known his father relied on poppy milk, a substance that could calm pain but was dangerously addictive, numbing nerves and muscles.


    Recalling the numerous times Grand Maester Mellos had treated his father without significant improvement, a dangerous glint appeared in Rhaegar''s eyes.


    After so many years, his father''s condition hadn''t improved. Even if aplete cure was impossible, the wound should have been better managed.


    Rhaegar fixed Orwyle with a grim gaze and asked, "Is the Grand Maester''s medicine effective or not?"

 Chapter 301: Hightower Greed

    Chapter 301: Hightower Greed


    It wasn''t long before Rhaegar emerged from the unassuming tent. His short silver-gold hair partially obscured his eyes, but the intense light in them was unmistakable.


    Orwyle, the gray-robed maester, said nothing as he handed Rhaegar a thick book ��a brief history of the modern court. Each time a king ascended to the Iron Throne, a maester sent by the Citadel would meticulously record the actions of the king and his blood rtives. These records were eventuallypiled into the history of House Targaryen.


    The brief history recorded by Grand Maester Mellos was riddled with anomalies. Rhaegar nced up at the afternoon sun, high in the blue sky amidst drifting white clouds, his heart heavy with the disturbing records.


    Determined, he headed straight for the main tent.


    ...


    Meanwhile, at the camp''s pic area, Aegon wandered aimlessly, his eyelids drooping. asionally, he would grab a bottle of red wine from the open-air tables, bite off the cork, and drink deeply. Scattered around were nobles of various ranks, busy with hunting and barbecuing, casting curious nces at the king''s second son.


    Following Aegon closely were the four daughters of House Baratheon, their foreheads sweaty and boots muddy.


    "How much longer will you keep this up, Your Highness Aegon?" Cassandra Baratheon, the eldest, clenched her teeth and finally voiced her frustration. They were here to discuss marriage prospects, not to act as guards on patrol. After trailing Aegon for half the day, they were parched and tired, while he continued to drink aimlessly.


    Aegon nced at her, noticing their exhausted state. "What''s the matter? Thirsty or tired?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.


    Maris Baratheon, the second eldest, stepped forward, her not-so-pretty face twisted in a frown. "Both tired and thirsty. You should be entertaining us properly instead of dragging us around the camp," she said, trying to suppress her anger.


    The two youngest Baratheon daughters, Ellyn and Floris, nodded in agreement, ring at Aegon.


    Back at Storm''s End, the four sisters were collectively known as the Four Storms and were much favored by their father, Borros Baratheon. They weren''t used to being slighted like this.


    "If you''re tired, find a ce to rest, and if you''re thirsty, there''s plenty of good wine on the table," Aegon said dismissively. "And stop following me. You''re dying my search for a ce to sleep."


    Maris, furious, stomped her foot in frustration. Aegon sneered at her, "What now? Just go sit somewhere."


    His eyes swept over Maris, and his disdain grew. Her face wasn''t attractive, and her petite body and short legs didn''t appeal to him at all. If it weren''t for Borros Baratheon''s defiance, he wouldn''t have lost so much face. Marrying one of Borros''s daughters was out of the question.


    Sensing Aegon''s contempt, Maris''s eyes reddened with anger. She wanted to call her guards to teach him a lesson, but the prince''s status and their father''s precarious situation stopped her.


    Cassandra, the eldest, took a deep breath and fetched a bottle of wine and some sses from a nearby table, sharing them with her sisters. She then looked at Aegon, who seemed ready to continue his aimless wandering. "Keep wandering around until it gets dark. We''ll probably be circling you until the end of the Kingswood hunt. That way, you''ll have something to brag aboutter," she said sharply.


    She had realized that Aegon had no interest in them and was merely toying with them. If tormenting him was the only option, then so be it.


    ...


    While the heirs of the two families engaged in their tense "friendly" interactions, two pairs of keen eyes watched from a distance.


    At an outdoor dining table, two round wooden piers served as benches. Otto stood on one side of the table, picking up a bottle of wine and pouring it, first offering the ss to his brother, Hobert Hightower, who stood beside him. The brothers raised their sses, sharing a drink while keeping their eyes fixed on Aegon and the Four Storms.


    "Brother, it seems my good grandson doesn''t fancy the Baratheon daughters," Hobert remarked, swirling his goblet with a smug expression.


    Otto''s face remained indifferent. "Marriage is a matter between families; the preferences of the individuals involved are secondary."


    Hobert chuckled, "Our King is known for his benevolence."


    Otto sliced a piece of steak from his porcin te, his eyes calm. "The royal family has always favored alliances with House Arryn of the Vale and House Baratheon of Storm''s End. These marriages help maintain peace in the kingdom."


    The noble houses of Westeros were powerful and widely distributed, often bing thorns in the side of the royal family. The Starks of the North, the Lannisters of the West, and the Martells of Dorne were particrly troublesome.


    "The Starks are isted in the North and could move south at any time. The Lannisters control the gold mines and Lannisport, their wealth unmatched. The Martells frequently raid our borders and remain at odds with the Iron Throne," Otto continued. "In this context, strategic alliances are essential."


    "The Arryns of the Vale can block the Starks from moving south, and with the support of the Tullys of the Rivends, they can keep the battlefield away from King''s Landing. The Baratheons at Storm''s End are close to King''s Landing, crucial for its defense and the protection of the Boneway and the Dornish Marches."


    Hobertughed, "Let''s see which of the Four Storms my nephew and grandson will choose."


    Otto forked another piece of steak, chewing thoughtfully. "You have something to say, Hobert."


    Hobert sipped his wine, then nced towards a corner, not bothering to hide his thoughts. "The king''s health is failing. Our family should establish a new alliance with the royal family."


    "A marriage alliance?" Otto frowned, following his brother''s gaze.


    Under a modest awning, three silver-haired siblings sat together: Hena in the center, with Aemond and Daeron on either side. They were enjoying fruits and desserts, asionally ncing at Aegon and the Baratheon girls.


    Daeron, with a piece of cake in his mouth, mumbled, "Aegon likes girls, so why is he avoiding them?"


    "Maybe the older girls aren''t pretty enough," Aemond replied casually.


    Suddenly, Aegon pped Cassandra Baratheon, knocking her to the ground. Aemond''s eyes widened in shock. "Oh shit, Aegon hit someone."


    Hena and Daeron quickly got up and rushed towards themotion.


    Otto and Hobert froze, watching the scene unfold. Hobert grinned, "It seems our nephews and grandsons are still the best candidates for marriage."


    Otto''s expression darkened. He left without a word, realizing the situation was veering off course and needing immediate intervention to salvage their ns.


    ...


    Inside the women''s tent, the warm glow ofnterns illuminated the space. Several coffee tables were artfully separated by screens, each surrounded by ornate chairs.


    In the center, nobledies and young women from various houses gathered around a prominent coffee table. Alicent sat next to Lady Elenda on one side, opposite Rhaenyra and Laena, who were apanied by a pair of twin girls. Near a corner, Larys Strong sat alone on a round bench, indulging his hobby of eavesdropping on the women''s gossip and news. His presence was tolerated due to hismeness.


    Despite the tent being designated for women, several male family members, including the second son of the Hand of the King, mingled among them. The chatter around the tables was incessant. Alicent and Rhaenyra, holding their respective statuses, listened more than they spoke, asionally interjecting.


    As the conversation progressed, the topics grew more pointed. An elderly woman, her ck hair streaked with white, took a sip of tea before speaking sharply, "The Targaryen Princes are restless, eager for war, it seems."


    Alicent, Rhaenyra, and Laena froze, surprised by the bluntness of the statement. Each of them had close ties to the Targaryen princes and were taken aback by the old woman''s attitude.


    "Lady Swann, what do you mean by that?" Alicent, the oldest and highest-ranking among them, inquired with a courteous smile.


    "Just speaking the truth." Lady Swann''s gaze flicked over Rhaenyra and Laena. "Prince Daemon has been plundering the ships of the Triarchy since he became the Commander of the Narrow Sea."


    Laena''s face tightened, and she opened her mouth to retort, but Lady Swann continued, turning her attention to Rhaenyra. "And Prince Rhaegar recently rode his dragon to invade Vntis, executed two Triarchs, and nearly sparked a war between Westeros and the Free Cities."


    Rhaenyra, defensive of her brother, responded coldly, "Lady Swann, you can��t speak such usations lightly."


    "Did I say anything untrue?" Lady Swann retorted, her tone haughty. "What Prince Daemon and Prince Rhaegar did is well known."


    Rhaenyra''s eyes narrowed as she noticed the gold jewelry on Lady Swann''spel, engraved with the family crest of two swans facing each other. The Swann family, based in Stonehelm in the Stornds, had long overseen the sea routes along the Dornish coast.


    Along with Lady Elenda''s maternal family, the Carons of Nightsong, they were among the oldest and strongest families in the Stornds.


    Understanding dawned on Rhaenyra. The Swann House, reliant on seafaring for their wealth, was undoubtedly suffering due to the royal family��s actions against House Baratheon and the disruptions along the Narrow Sea caused by Daemon and Rhaegar. Lady Swann was here to voice her grievances.


    Alicent and Laena quickly grasped the underlying motive as well. As Rhaenyra''s stepmother, Alicent tried to mediate with a diplomatic smile. However, Laena, unable to hold back, spoke up first. "Lady Swann, the Triarchy has always been hostile to the kingdom. Daemon fulfilling his duties is no excuse for you to spread such falsehoods."

 Chapter 302: Viserys’ Will to Tame a Dragon

    Chapter 302: Viserys�� Will to Tame a Dragon


    Laena''s demeanor shifted from her usual gentle nature to a strong defense of Daemon. Raised by an ambitious father and an independent mother, Laena had developed an intelligent and sensitive heart. Despite Daemon''s prodigal ways, infidelities, and flirtations, Laena remained loyal and supportive of her husband.


    Lady Swann, however, had a different perspective and argued, "Daemon''s duties do not include plundering ships. He does it for his own selfish desires."


    Laena''s face darkened, her mind in turmoil. She had long suspected Daemon of hiding things and bing increasingly violent, but she wasn''t aware of all his actions. Considering Lady Swann''s usations, it was usible that Daemon had indeed engaged in piracy. This was a grave usation.


    "Stay calm," Rhaenyra, sitting beside Laena, ced a reassuring hand on hers and whispered soothingly.


    Lady Swann shifted her gaze to Rhaenyra and continued her tirade, "Daemon is a menace, and Prince Rhaegar is no better. He attacked the Triarchy and now seeks to conquer Vntis."


    "Lady Swann, do you have proof that Rhaegar invaded Vntis?" Rhaenyra asked, her voice steady, as she lifted her wine ss from the coffee table.


    "Prince Rhaegar publicly burned the consul of Vntis with his dragon. The city still talks of it," Lady Swann said tly.


    "Is that proof?" Rhaenyra pressed.


    Lady Swann frowned, "It''smon knowledge."


    "Common knowledge isn''t evidence," Rhaenyra countered. "Who can verify that Rhaegar invaded Vntis? Where is the physical evidence of his invasion?"


    "And why hasn''t the current consul of Vntis dered war or retaliated against Rhaegar?" she added, her voice growing sharper.


    Lady Swann''s face hardened as she stammered, "Vntis fears retaliation. The truth is, Prince Rhaegar invaded privately."


    "Nonsense!" Rhaenyra stood abruptly, raising her wine cup. She sshed its contents onto Lady Swann''s face.


    As the old woman wiped her face in shock, Rhaenyra''s eyes were ice-cold. "usations without evidence are nderous. You insult the Heir to the Throne without proof, a crime punishable by death for treason!"


    The room erupted in chaos. Sensing the esction, Alicent quickly stood and intervened, "Calm down, everyone. This is just an argument, not a cause for real conflict."


    Rhaenyra red at her. "Alicent, Rhaegar is my brother. If you won''t defend him, I will. Don''t interfere."


    Alicent''s attempt to deescte the situation seemed only to fuel the tension. Lady Swann, feeling emboldened, retorted, "Is this the princess you raised, Queen?"


    At these words, Rhaenyra''s temper red. Despite their past friendship, Rhaenyra and Alicent were now estranged. The insinuation that Alicent had any hand in her upbringing was infuriating.


    Rhaenyra stepped forward and pped Lady Swann across the face with a resounding crack. The old woman staggered, her eyes wide with disbelief as she clutched her stinging cheek.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes were cold and fiery as she red at Lady Swann. "Lady Swann, you have shown me today what it means to have a big head and a small mind," she said, her voice cutting through the tension.


    "The war between the Kingdom and the Triarchy has never ceased, but it was Rhaegar who invaded the city-state and secured peace for the Kingdom for years," Rhaenyra dered, pointing to Laena, whose small belly bulged with pregnancy. "The Triarchy frequently looted our ships. Whether Daemon privately looted theirs or not is a matter of interpretation."


    "A war only drags everyone down," the old woman retorted defiantly.


    With a cold expression, Rhaenyra backhanded another p across Lady Swann''s face, chiding, "Without war, where is peace?"


    Turning to the assembled noblewomen, Rhaenyra addressed them solemnly. "Rhaegar has never attempted to invade any castle. All these usations are the fantasies of the foolish."


    Pointing at Lady Swann again, Rhaenyra sneered, "If I remember correctly, Lord Swann''s only niece, Johanna Swann, was kidnapped by pirates from the Triarchy years ago. The Lord refused to pay her ransom, and she was trafficked several times."


    Seeing the old woman''s trembling gaze, Rhaenyra continued, "If Daemon has been plundering Triarchy ships, I''d like to see him rescue Johanna from her captivity."


    Grasping the solid gold pendant around Lady Swann''s neck, Rhaenyra said, "I believe Daemon won''t demand a ransom to allow Lord Swann to rescue his only niece."


    With a victorious air, Rhaenyra pulled Laena aside and walked out of the tent. Laena, whose darkplexion had darkened further in anger, spat at the old woman, "Bitch!"


    A pair of twins followed their mother and foster mother, making faces at the old woman as they exited. The tent fell into a tense silence.


    Alicent stood speechless, reying Rhaenyra''s reprimand in her mind. The embarrassment of being lectured by her stepdaughter in front of everyone was palpable.


    Rubbing her temples, Alicent identally picked at her fingernails, wincing as tears came to her eyes from the pain.


    Beside her, Lady Swann, drenched in red wine and with a swollen, reddened face, covered herself in indignation and left the tent.


    The other noblewomen exchanged nces, their silence speaking volumes. Most of them represented Stornds families and hade to gauge the royal family''s stance.


    Lady Swann had been their spokesperson to test the waters. It was now clear that the royal family had a firm and upromising attitude towards Stornds.


    At that moment, the Kingsguard, Arryk Cargyll, hurriedly entered the tent and whispered to Alicent, "Your Grace, Prince Aegon has struck Miss Cassandra."


    Alicent''s face changed color as she lifted her skirts and walked out, muttering, "Thank you, Ser Erryk."


    "It''s Arryk, Your Grace," he corrected gently.


    "Oh, of course, Ser Arryk," Alicent replied distractedly, her mind on Aegon. All she wanted now was to confront her son and ask why he had assaulted the girl meant to be his future wife.


    As Alicent and Arryk left, the noblewomen stared at each other in confusion, trying to interpret the situation.


    Larys Strong, bent over his scepter, watched Alicent''s departing figure. He sensed an opportunity to further intensify the conflict and sow chaos.


    ...


    The Main Tent of the Camp


    The lively atmosphere was boisterous, with a group of advisers and nobles surrounding the king, drinking and enjoying themselves. Viserys smiled and excused himself, his tired body unable to keep up with the revelry.


    Rhaegar sat at the lower end of the main seat, one hand propped on his chin and one leg crossed, an ind of serenity amidst the chaos.


    "Rhaegar, what did you want to see me about?" Viserys asked, wiping sweat from his brow.


    Rhaegar rubbed his brow and spoke softly, "It''s nothing major. I''ve noticed the medicine prepared by the Grand Maester isn''t very effective. I''ve chosen a new maester for your treatment."


    "Mellos has done a good job. He''s been handling my injuries," Viserys replied, frowning in confusion, reluctant to rece the familiar old man.


    "Father, your injuries aren''t improving. It''s better to try a new medicine," Rhaegar patiently exined. "Orwyle is cautious and a maester you know well. He will perform his duties just as diligently."


    There was a deep helplessness in Rhaegar''s heart. After reading the brief history of the court recorded by Grand Maester Mellos, he had be deeply skeptical.


    The history covered a wide range of topics in meticulous detail, including his birth, his mother Queen Aemma''s death in childbirth, and his owna before the age of three. Even personal matters like Rhaenyra losing her virginity and his first intimate encounter with Jayne were described in writing.


    However, the treatment and medication for Viserys were very vaguely documented in this otherwise detailed history. Only some bloodletting, maggot therapy, and abscess scraping were recorded. The medications used were few and showed little effect. Despite this, Mellos did not actively change the treatment n and suppressed aides like Orwyle, who advocated for changes.


    Rhaegar had good reason to suspect Mellos of ulterior motives. If he didn''t want to alert the schemers, he would have already imprisoned Mellos for interrogation. He suspected something was wrong with the Citadel.


    Seeing his resolute eldest son, Viserys sighed and nodded in agreement. He also felt that Mellos'' treatment was ineffective, and a new approach might bring improvement.


    After a moment of silence, Rhaegar rubbed his smooth chin and said, "Father, the Kingswood hunt will end in a few days. Have you made any ns to tame the dragons?"


    For the past month, his father had avoided answering. With his trip to Dragonstone Ind imminent, it was time to remind him properly.


    "Dragonstone Ind..." Viserys'' face paled, and he averted his eyes. He very much wanted to tame a dragon but was daunted by the risks involved.


    Seeing this, Rhaegar said no more, understanding his father''s dilemma. Determination was crucial for taming a dragon.


    Suddenly, amotion came from outside. Immediately after, an indignant Borros walked into the main tent, followed by his cousin Rhaenys and her four daughters. The girls were silently weeping, their dresses covered in mud and dirt, their faces red and bruised.


    Otto then entered, pulling a dirty Hena and Aemond by their hands.


    In Rhaegar and Viserys'' astonished gazes, Rhaenys stepped forward with her arm around Cassandra and sighed helplessly, "The children of the two families fought, and Aegon, who started it, ran into the Kingswood."

 Chapter 303: Larys’s Prying Eyes

    Chapter 303: Larys��s Prying Eyes


    "Brother."


    The words barely escaped Hena''s lips before she deted, looking at Rhaegar with a resigned expression.


    "What��s going on,e here quickly," Rhaegar beckoned hastily, noticing her tear-streaked face.


    Hena broke away from Grandfather Otto''s grasp and trotted into her brother��s arms. Rhaegar nced at Borros Baratheon and then caressed Hena''s face, frowning. "What happened?"


    "A fight," Hena sniffled pitifully. "Aegon hit Cassandra. They went to fight Aegon, and Aemond and I tried to stop them but got caught up in it."


    She was only thirteen, and Aemond, two years younger, had fared worse in the scuffle.


    Rhaegar sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "Seven hells!"


    It��s just a children��s quarrel.


    Viserys, now grasping the situation, asked Rhaenys for a full ount. Rhaenys, ever the unbiased observer, ryed the events clearly and without taking sides.


    Bang��


    Viserys mmed his wine cup down in anger. "Damn it, beating a girl and then running away!" His fury was directed at Aegon, who had struck Cassandra and fled into the Kingswood, avoiding punishment and escaping an unwanted betrothal.


    Borros, red-faced, held his second daughter, Maris, close. "Your Grace, you invited my daughters here for a marriage proposal, but Prince Aegon''s behavior is intolerable."


    Having just been reprimanded by the king and forced to execute five loyal bannermen, Borros had hoped the matter would be resolved. Instead, his daughters had been assaulted by a Targaryen prince. To maintain his honor, he sought Rhaenys'' support.


    Viserys frowned deeply and spoke in a somber tone. "Borros, this was not authorized by me. I will find Aegon and provide you with an exnation."


    It was a severe breach of decorum to assault a prospective bride.


    Borros bit back his words, seeking justice. Rhaenys, noting the amused nobles around them, lowered her voice. "Viserys, Aegon must apologize to House Baratheon. They need to save face."


    "Agreed," Viserys said, forcing a smile at the Baratheon girls. "Aegon will be disciplined. I''ll ensure newpanions entertain you."


    Despite the incident, he was determined to secure an alliance. Without it, he felt uneasy about Borros�� control over the Stornds.


    Cassandra��s eyes lit up, the corners of her bruised eyes flicking towards Rhaegar with anticipation. "Who will entertain us?"


    Viserys smiled, understanding her implication. "My two youngest sons will be considered."


    He waved at Rhaegar. "Our patrols failed. You lead the team to retrieve Aegon."


    Rhaegar understood, patting Hena''s back. "Father, Hena and Aemond are hurt too. Don��t forget tofort them."


    Hena, looking aggrieved, approached her father. She had also been pushed and shoved.


    Leaving Viserys to manage the situation, Rhaegar cast a nce at the silent Otto before exiting the tent.


    Just outside, he collided with Alicent, rushing in after hearing the news.


    "Where''s Aegon? What happened to Hena and Aemond?" Alicent demanded, her voice full of concern.


    Rhaegar shrugged as he continued walking. With Alicent around, Hena and Aemond were sure to be well cared for.


    ...


    At night, the stars dotted the sky, with dark clouds obscuring the bright moonlight.


    On a winding path through the Kingswood, a dozen miles or so from the camp...


    A white horse galloped along, Rhaegar on its back, with Aegon trailing behind, tethered by a rope and struggling to keep up.


    "Rhaegar, stop! I can''t run anymore!"


    Aegon was dizzy with exhaustion, his legs giving out, nearly dragging him along the ground.


    Rhaegar ignored his pleas, cracking his whip against the horse��s nk, urging it to go faster.


    "Hey! Are you even listening? I really can��t go on!"


    Aegon panted heavily, stumbling and nearly in tears.


    After another mile, Aegon finally copsed with a wail, being dragged along the dirt path.


    "Phew."


    Rhaegar called the horse to a halt, dropped his whip, and dismounted.


    Aegony limply on the ground, his clothes torn, revealing a reddened, bruised back.


    "I��m sorry, I really am."


    Seeing Rhaegar approaching, Aegon, terrified, kicked his legs in a futile attempt to escape, despite his bound hands.


    Rhaegar grabbed him by the cor, amused. "Why aren��t you escaping on a dragon?"


    Aegon cried out, too frightened to move. "Your Cannibal is searching for Sunfyre, who��s hiding from me."


    He had hoped to escape on a dragon, but reality had crushed that n.


    Rhaegarughed and then asked sternly, "Do you know what this count as?"


    "What counts?" Aegon asked warily, trying to back away.


    Rhaegar��s smile vanished. "Count yourself unlucky."


    As he struck Aegon, he lectured him, "You''re not a man yet! You hit a woman and then ran away! Do you think Father won''t hack you to pieces?"


    Rhaegar had spent half a day chasing the drunken Aegon, finally catching him by a small stream. Now, he needed to vent his frustration.


    "Stop, I��m sorry��"


    Aegon couldn��t dodge, hunching over and crying out, "I didn��t like those girls! Why do I have to marry them?"


    "It��s a family marriage! You think you can just do whatever you want?"


    Rhaegar was furious. He yanked up the trembling Aegon and demanded, "You don��t want to marry the daughters of House Baratheon. Do you want to marry Hena instead?"


    "No! She��s worse than the Four Storms!"


    Aegon shook his head vigorously, tugging at the corner of his bleeding mouth, pleading, "I want to marry a great beauty, even if she��s of lower status. Leave the Four Storms to Aemond and Daeron."


    Rhaegar was exasperated. "How can you be so foolish, ruining your Grandfather''s ns for nothing?"


    Tired of beating him, Rhaegar untied the rope binding Aegon to the horse, slung him over the horse��s back, and remounted.


    He didn��t care if Aegon was secure, riding back to the camp without a second nce.


    In less than half a quarter of an hour, the camp gate loomed close.


    Entering the camp, Rhaegar dragged Aegon to the main tent and handed him over to their father for punishment.


    "Aegon!"


    Alicent, already in the tent, gasped in distress at the sight of her son��s bruised and swollen face.


    "Alicent, stand down," Viserysmanded, his patience wearing thin. He didn��t want to see his wife coddling Aegon any longer.


    Alicent red at him, her pain evident. "Aegon is all beaten up. Call the Grand Maester to tend to him at once," she insisted, her voice firm as she directed the second part at Arryk, the Kingsguard standing at the entrance.


    Viserys sighed deeply and advised, "Leave. Aegon will apologize to the Four Storms and face the consequences of his actions."


    "Don��t forget, Aegon is your son too," Alicent retorted sadly. Though she dared not openly defy Viserys, she walked out indignantly, her eyes briefly shing with anger as she passed Rhaegar.


    She knew it was Rhaegar who had inflicted the injuries on Aegon.


    Rhaegar remained impassive, unaffected by her silent usation. In his eyes, Aegon, spoiled and irresponsible, needed a hard lesson. To Rhaegar, Aegon��s reckless behavior was more of a liability to the family.


    Once Alicent left, the tension in the tent eased slightly.


    With no outsiders present, Viserys forced Aegon to apologize to Cassandra and then to each of her three sisters.


    With Rhaenys acting as guarantor, Borros dared not escte the issue further. Instead, he instructed his daughters to apologize to Hena and Aemond, who had been caught in the crossfire.


    The siblings were genuinely offended to have been dragged into the dispute.


    Finally, Viserys adopted a more kingly demeanor, smiling kindly. "Borros, the matter of marriage is negotiable. Let the childrenmunicate more in private."


    Borros grimaced, casting a scrutinizing nce from the defiant Aegon to the in and unimpressive Aemond. The king��s third son was still young, underappreciated, and crucially, dragonless.


    After much consideration and fearing further trouble with the king, Borros relented, "The daughters of House Baratheon hold no grudges. Both sides will get along."


    Aemond hung his head, still unaware that he was now considered as Aegon''s recement. He was lost in thoughts of the earlier argument, wondering if having a dragon of his own would have allowed him to confront the Four Storms with dragonfire.


    Unconsciously, he clenched his fists at the thought.


    ...


    In the camp, the nobles gathered around a roaring bonfire.


    Some had witnessed Rhaegar dragging Aegon on horseback, while others had seen the afternoon sh between Aegon and the daughters of House Baratheon. Whispers spread about the growing tension between the crown and House Baratheon.


    Alicent stormed out of the tent, the cool night airshing her face and reviving her frayed nerves.


    "Your Grace, the Queen."


    A low, emotionden voice called out from nearby.


    Alicent turned, her green skirt fluttering in the wind as she tilted her head proudly. She saw a secluded corner table away from the bonfire''s glow.


    Larys, with his scepter, sat alone on a wooden stool, watching her with a coy smile.


    Feeling Alicent''s stern gaze, Larys shifted ufortably and ducked his head.


    He stared at the ground, avoiding eye contact as if afraid someone might see through his fa?ade.


    "What do you want with me?" Alicent asked, scanning the surroundings before walking gracefully toward the corner.


    The dimly lit area, strewn with leftovers and ignored by the revelers, suited Larys''s secretive nature perfectly.


    Larys smiled, "Queen, you seem to need a reliable ally."

 Chapter 304: The Plan to Occupy Storm’s End

    Chapter 304: The n to upy Storm��s End


    "I''m doing just fine. I don''t need allies," Alicent retorted, her voice sharp with frustration.


    Larys��s gaze fell to the Queen''s feet, barely visible beneath her skirt. "It''s not that you don''t need allies," he replied calmly, "but that you haven''t found the right ones."


    Alicent''s annoyance red. "Rhaegar sits high on his pedestal. My children are just pawns for him. Where do you expect me to find an ally who canpete with that?"


    As heir, Rhaegar''s power and reputation were indisputable. No one dared to challenge him openly.


    "Don''t be in such a hurry," Larys said, his eyes fluttering with a mix of patience and calction. "I''ve already chosen my allies. We just need a bit more leverage."


    Alicent noticed his gaze and tugged her skirt to cover her feet. "My father has his own ns," she said dismissively. "He prioritizes family interests."


    When Otto returned to King''s Landing, he had been entangled in the street rectification program for three years. Now that he had regained some influence in the Small Council, he focused solely on benefiting himself and his house, with little thought for her struggles.


    "No, I��m not counting on the cunning Lord Otto," Larys smiled apologetically. "His sophistication isn''t what I��m banking on."


    "Get to the point. I need to rest," Alicent said impatiently.


    Larys remainedposed, his eyes gleaming with precision. "Prince Aegon rejected the Four Storms. Given the king''s character, he will likely choose another prince for the marriage."


    Alicent''s eyes widened as she picked at her nails, suddenly realizing the implications. In her anger, she had overlooked Viserys''s cautious nature. Aegon had refused the Four Storms, and she had been pleased, thinking she could pair him with Hena. But now, she saw that Aemond was the next likely candidate for the union.


    "It seems you''ve thought this through," Larys said, resting his chin on his scepter. "House Baratheon is stronger than they appear. If Prince Aemond marries one of Lord Borros''s daughters, then��"


    "Impossible," Alicent interjected, regaining herposure. "Borros is reckless and selfish. Even if Aemond marries one of his daughters, he will only serve those on the Iron Throne."


    Rhaegar''s position was unshakeable, and her son would be nothing more than a tool in this alliance��a reality well understood by any noble.


    Larys gazed at her silently, then spoke softly, "Queen, what if the person in charge of Storm��s End is not Lord Borros?"


    "Lord Borros is the sole heir of the Baratheon lineage," Alicent retorted sharply. "He is the de facto ruler of Storm��s End."


    Larys''s eyes twinkled as he responded, "Yes, everyone knows Lord Borros has no brothers or sons. But if something were to happen to him, who would take over Storm��s End?"


    Alicent felt a chill run down her spine as she realized the implication. Her nails dug into her palm. "What... what are you suggesting?"


    Larys smiled faintly. "Queen, I suggest you encourage Prince Aemond to marry one of the Four Storms, preferably Cassandra, the eldest. That way, the session would be most secure."


    "You''re insane!" Alicent hissed, her eyes zing. "Borros is a formidable lord with countless guards. How could we even consider such a thing?"


    "How?" Larys remained unfazed. "If you trust me, simply persuade Prince Aemond."


    Alicent''s heart pounded as she asked, "Even if this seeds, who are the allies?"


    Larys stood, using his scepter for support. "After hearing Lady Swann''s usation, I had my little birds investigate Prince Daemon''s movements. He has indeed been plundering Triarchy ships and has been seen in Vntis."


    "What does that mean?" Alicent was confused.


    Larys lowered his voice. "Someone is nning a war, and a war needs an army. A sea fleet from Storm��s End would be invaluable."


    With that, Larys smiled slyly and hobbled away, his iron shoes clinking softly.


    He had made his intentions clear: seize control of Storm��s End and ally with those plotting the war.


    Alicent stood frozen, contemting the feasibility of Larys''s n. She did not utter a word to stop him, realizing that his scheme, though risky, could significantly bolster her power.


    ...


    Rhaegar nced around at the crowd gathered around the fire, the mes casting flickering shadows. He tightened hispels and headed for his tent, eager to escape the raucous shouting and the pungent smell of stale wine that permeated the air. His father and the advisors would revel all night, but Rhaegar preferred solitude.


    As he passed a dimly lit, secluded area, two figures caught his attention: Alicent in her green gown and Larys Strong, leaning on his scepter. Rhaegar stopped and hid behind a ribboned column, watching them discreetly. He knew they had been meeting in secret for some time, and had always rebuffed Larys''s advances.


    Curiosity piqued, Rhaegar watched as Larys struggled to leave, using his scepter for support. Alicent lingered for a moment before quickly walking away in a different direction. Once they were out of sight, Rhaegar stepped out from behind the column, a probing look in his eyes.


    "What moves is Alicent up to again?" he muttered, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.


    He pondered for a moment, then continued towards his tent. Alicent''s recent annoyance stemmed from theplications around Aegon and Hena''s marriage. She probably med him for beating Aegon and was disgruntled, but beyond that, he couldn''t fathom her motives.


    "I''ll need to bring Tormund back from the Mushroom Set," Rhaegar mused silently. "His eyes are sharper than mine."


    With this thought, he quickened his pace.


    ...


    Several days passed in the blink of an eye, bringing the Kingswood hunt to its final day.


    It was still early morning, and the sun''s rays filtered through the dense canopy, casting a serene glow over the silent forest.


    "Rhaegar, wake up."


    Inside the tent, Rhaenyra, already dressed, sat on the edge of the bed, gently shaking Rhaegar. His brows were furrowed, lost in a vivid dream.


    In his dream, he wandered through rolling hills and dense forests, with streams gurgling and birds chirping merrily on the branches. Suddenly, a majestic White Hart emerged from the shrubs, gracefully leaping over a stream andnding on the rocky shore opposite.


    "Yooooo..."


    The White Hart tilted its head and bleated softly, lowering itself to drink from the stream.


    Whoosh��


    A dark arrow shot through the air, striking the White Hart��s neck with deadly precision. The arrowhead, gleaming with an ebony light, pierced deep into its flesh.


    "Yooooo..."


    The White Hart let out a pained wail, copsing to the ground and thrashing its hooves. It soony dying in a pool of blood.


    The dream shattered.


    Rhaegar groggily opened his eyes, his face nk with the remnants of the dream. Rhaenyra frowned, pinching his ear yfully but firmly.


    "Today is thest hunt, Rhaegar. Don��t make Father wait."


    Rhaegar rubbed his eyes and groaned. "Got it, I��m getting up."


    He rose, bare-chested, and suddenly wrapped his arms around Rhaenyra��s slender waist, nting a kiss on her cheek.


    "Rhaegar!"


    Rhaenyra��s face turned a deep shade of red as she yfully pped him a few times. After a brief moment of teasing, Rhaegar donned his ck hunting clothes and stepped out of the tent.


    He looked up at the rising sun, exhaling a deep breath.


    "I dreamed of the White Hart," he murmured, shaking his head in wonder. "It was killed."


    Determined, he added, "I need to find it before some noble hunts it down for real."


    With a renewed sense of purpose, Rhaegar set off into the Kingswood.


    ...


    After a busy day of hunting, nightfall brought the nobles back to camp for onest grand bonfire. The central bonfire illuminated the camp, casting a warm glow over an open-air tableden with food and wine, enhancing the revelry.


    Rhaegar reclined in a quieter corner, resting his head on Rhaenyra��sp. Rhaenyra sliced a piece of sizzlingmb and fed it to him, casually asking, "What did you catch today?"


    "Nothing," Rhaegar replied, epting the bite and rubbing his head. "I spent the day watching. No game, but that''s alright."


    The White Hart from his dream had not appeared, leaving the vision unconfirmed.


    Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow but didn��t press further. If Rhaegar said it was fine, she trusted him. She turned her head slightly, observing the chaotic celebration by the bonfire.


    Nobles gathered there in high spirits. Viserys stood by the mes, a bottle of Summer Red in hand,ughing heartily with his brother Daemon. Daemon, looking slightly exasperated, patted Viserys on the shoulder and helped him to a seat at the table.


    "My lord, let me refill your wine," came a soft, charming female voice.


    Daemon nced over and saw Borros Baratheon, seated at a neighboring table, boasting loudly with his bannermen. His dinner te was piled high with food.


    A voluptuous woman approached Borros��s table. She had ming red lips, ck wavy hair, green eyes, and moved with a seductive grace. As she poured Borros another drink, heughed, mistaking her for a maid and reaching out to grope her. She deftly dodged his hand, giving him a yful wink before turning away.


    Her eyes caught Daemon��s interested gaze. She smiled and made her way over, her hips swaying.


    "Prince, you are so handsome," she said, winking as she drew closer.


    Daemon, ever the connoisseur of beauty, couldn''t help but notice her generous curves. Even for him, ustomed to thepany of many women, her figure was remarkable.

 Chapter 305: Death of a Stag

    Chapter 305: Death of a Stag


    The next day dawned with the campfire extinguished and most still recovering from the previous night''s revelry. Acquered white luxury carriage, escorted by silver-armored Kingsguard, slowly left the camp, heading back to King''s Landing. The King''s family was the first to depart after the Kingswood hunt.


    Compared to their arrival, the entourage now included a slightly smaller, more exquisite carriage. Inside, the spaciouspartment amodated several figures. Aemond sat alone, his head hanging down as he picked at his fingers, lost for words.


    To his left were the Four Storms of House Baratheon, the four sisters arranged from eldest to youngest. Cassandra, the eldest, asionally stole nces at Aemond while chatting with her sisters. The king and queen had specially invited the sisters to apany the royal caravan to give them more time to bond with their prospective marriage partner.


    Opposite the Four Storms, Rhaenyra, dressed in ck, sat beside Laena, who wore a in white dress. A dark-skinned girl rested in Laena''s arms.


    Daemon''s family had also joined the caravan back to King''s Landing, nning to sail from ckwater Bay to Dragonstone Ind, with Daemon''s family returning to Driftmark Ind along the way. Rhaenys, however, did not apany them; she was a guest of her cousin Borros at Storm''s End Castle.


    As the carriage creaked and ttered along, the atmosphere inside was surprisingly dull. Rhaenyra nced at Laena, both bored. The main focus should have been on Aemond and the Four Storms, but Aemond''s quiet nature and the sisters'' reluctance to engage made the situation awkward.


    Unable to bear the oppressive silence, Ba, leaning on Rhaenyra''sp, piped up, "Princess, when will my little dragon hatch?" Her question immediately drew everyone''s attention.


    Ba and Rhaena, both three years old, inherited their mother Laena''s exquisite beauty. Ba cradled a green dragon egg, while Rhaena held a ck and red one on Laena''sp. Cassandra nced enviously at the dragon eggs.


    Rhaenyra thought for a moment and offered encouragement, "Don''t worry, your little dragon wille out of the egg sooner orter."


    Ba nodded vigorously, reassured. "Uh-huh."


    "Mother, what about my dragon egg?" Rhaena, shy by nature, echoed her sister''s query, holding up her egg.


    Laena kissed her tenderly and said, "Patience pays off. Your dragon egg will hatch a beautiful baby dragon."


    Rhaena smiled shyly, snuggling back with her dragon egg. The Four Storms exchanged nces, envy and jealousy flickering in their eyes.


    Cassandra straightened her dress and folded her hands in herp, her eyes burning with determination as she looked at Aemond. Maris, the second eldest, pulled a handful of colorful candies from her pocket, offering them to Aemond like a peace offering.


    The youngest two sisters, still too young to engage directly, sat helplessly, their gazes fixed on the dragon eggs. The simple-minded longing of the four little girls was evident; they yearned for the dragon eggs just as much as their cousins.


    ...


    A dayter, in King''s Landing, near the River Gate:


    Outside the pier, a majestic three-masted royal ship sailed into ckwater Bay, proudly disying the g of the three-headed red dragon.


    "Hee hee,e catch me!" A peal of silver-bellughter rang out, apanied by a flurry of footsteps.


    On the wide deck, a group of children were engrossed in y. Among them were Hena Targaryen, Aemond, Daeron, Ba, Rhaena, and the Four Storms of Baratheon.


    Seventeen-year-old Cassandra, the oldest, tried to join the game, blocking the path of the younger ones. Her sixteen-year-old sister, Maris, stayed close to Aemond, skillfully blending into the game while keeping a keen eye on her target.


    "Aemond, we''llpete in swordyter," Maris suggested.


    Hena, sitting quietly to the side, tended to the youngest Ba sister.


    "Yeah," Aemond replied distractedly, not really focusing on Maris'' challenge. His mind was preupied with his mission and the dream of taming a dragon on Dragonstone Ind.


    Cassandra''s smile faded as she exchanged a look with Maris. Maris frowned, her reluctance evident.


    "Go!" Cassandramanded with a sharp re.


    Not daring to defy her elder sister, Maris reluctantly ran towards Hena, using the excuse of chasing Daeron.


    With her eyes closed, she collided hard into Hena.


    "Bang..."


    Hena, caught off guard, fell, her forehead striking the deck.


    "Ah..! That hurts~" she cried out. Luckily, the nket beneath her softened the impact, though her forehead turned red.


    Seeing this, Aemond instantly became furious and rushed forward, "What are you doing, bumping into my sister?"


    The force of the collision had also knocked Maris onto the deck. Without the cushion of a nket, her bare elbows and knees were scraped and bruised.


    Aemond pulled her aside as he tried to check on Hena.


    Tears welled up in Hena''s eyes as she clutched her reddened forehead.


    "Sister, are you okay?" Aemond asked anxiously, reaching out to touch her.


    But then, Hena''s body stiffened, her tearful eyes lost their luster, and in an eerie tone, she said, "The stag''s carcass is being eaten!"


    With those words, she rose from the nket and, holding her trembling body, walked towards the cabin.


    Aemond stood frozen, bewildered, "Stag carcasses?"


    He hesitated, wanting to follow and call out to his sister, but seeing her tense nerves, he withdrew his hand, unsure of what to do.


    ...


    Not long afterward, far away on a dirt road in the Stornds:


    Several Storm Knights carrying the banner of the Baratheon stag led the way, followed by a luxurious carriage. From inside, the Lord''s rough and boisterousughter asionally echoed.


    Inside the carriage were Borros, his wife Elenda, and their guest, Rhaenys. Borros sat in the center, nked by the twodies seated opposite each other.


    "Cousin, try this delicacy, the foie gras is as tender as cotton," Borros said, devouring the food with knife and fork in hand, taking hearty gulps of wine.


    Rhaenys, however, remained calm, showing no appetite. Elenda, noticing her disinterest, attempted to engage her in conversation to pass the time.


    As they chatted, an unexpected incident urred.


    Suddenly, Borros''s face contorted, and his knife and fork ttered to the floor. Clutching his stomach, he groaned in pain. "Ouch! My stomach!"


    Elenda, rmed, quickly assisted her husband. "What''s going on? I told you to eat less; you''ve been bloated for thest two days."


    Borros, a valiant warrior with a hearty appetite, groaned, "It hurts, my stomach feels like it''s going to burst."


    The pain escted rapidly. Borros winced, fell to the floor, and began to spasm uncontrobly.


    "Borros! Are you okay?" Elenda cried out in panic.


    Realizing something was seriously wrong, Rhaenys rushed to the carriage door and shouted, "Someone, the lord is sick! Quickly, call the maester!"


    Within moments, Borros was unable to speak, his face turning blue and purple as blood bubbled from his eyes. As the maester arrived and opened the door, Borros stretched his neck, let out a final, agonized roar, and then fell silent.


    The maester examined the body, lifting Borros''s clothes to reveal a swollen, rock-hard stomach. "The lord is dead," he announced fearfully.


    "No! How could this be?" Elenda shrieked, unable to ept her husband''s sudden death. "Borros! Wake up! How can you leave me behind?!"


    The maester retreated, too frightened to say more.


    Rhaenys sat in shock, staring at her cousin''s tragic end. After a moment, she regained herposure and called over the maester. "Write a letter to King''s Landing, informing them of Borros''s death."


    "Yes, Princess," the maester replied, trembling as he left the carriage.


    Rhaenys leaned back, wiping her wrinkled forehead and taking deep breaths. Borros had died before her eyes. Her gaze fell on Borros''s swollen belly, and her eyes narrowed as she murmured, "Just like Uncle Baelon..."


    ...


    Nightfall, ckwater Bay


    The sea was calm, a gentle breeze guiding the royal ship along its course. Inside the cabin, Rhaegar walked down the corridor and knocked on Hena''s door.


    During dinner, Hena��s maid had reported that she wasn��t feeling well and had skipped the meal. Upon learning that she had been injured earlier in the day, Rhaegar became worried about his sister and decided to check on her.


    Knock, knock...


    ��Hena, are you hungry?�� Rhaegar asked tentatively.


    Silence.


    Rhaegar''s concern deepened, and he raised his hand to knock again. Since taming Dreamfyre, Hena had be more cheerful and resilient. It wasn��t like her to ignore him.


    ��Don��t bother; she won��t answer you,�� a somber voice said from behind.


    Rhaegar turned to see Aemond emerging from the corridor''s shadows, holding a baguette. Aemond looked downcast, his head hung low.


    Rhaegar immediately sensed that Aemond knew more than he was letting on. ��Aemond, do you know what happened to Hena?��


    ��Probably,�� Aemond whispered, nodding. ��After she got hit, she started talking about a stag carcass, silkworms, and some other nonsense. Then she just... shut down.��


    ��A stag carcass?�� Rhaegar muttered.


    ��Yes, she said it was a stag,�� Aemond confirmed.


    Rhaegar closed his eyes, deep in thought. Hena had likely experienced a prophetic vision and was now isting herself. He remembered dreaming of the White Hart''s death the previous night, assuming it was rted to the Kingswood.


    But Hena��s vision was clearer: a stag carcass and silkworms. Suddenly, it clicked.


    ��Baratheon?�� he said, shocked. The stag, a symbol of House Baratheon, could only mean trouble for them.


    Realizing the urgency, Rhaegar hurried down the corridor. He needed to act fast. As he passed Aemond, he patted his shoulder. ��Remember, Hena hasn��t eaten. Look after her, little brother.��


    Without waiting for a response, Rhaegar left.


    ...


    Soon, he returned to his room. Opening the door, he saw Rhaenyra brushing her hair at the dresser, with a maid attending to her.


    ��Rhaegar?�� Rhaenyra looked surprised as he entered hastily.


    ��I need to send someone on an urgent errand,�� Rhaegar replied, his gaze shifting to the maid. ��Sara, you must take a small boat and return to King��s Landing immediately, than go to Storm��s End.��


    Rhaegar couldn��t leave, he still had to go to Dragonstone.

 Chapter 306: The Sheepstealer Who Arrived At the Right Time

    Chapter 306: The Sheepstealer Who Arrived At the Right Time


    The foreign beauty remained calm, meeting Rhaenyra��s gaze in the mirror.


    ��Go,�� Rhaenyra said with a nod.


    ��Yes, Princess,�� Sara replied softly, retrieving a ck robe from a drawer before exiting the room.


    As she passed Rhaegar, he issued a quickmand, ��Keep an eye on Borros.��


    ��No problem,�� she assured, disappearing into the depths of the corridor.


    Alone with his sister, Rhaenyra turned to Rhaegar, curiosity evident. ��What happened?��


    ��A dream and a prophecy,�� Rhaegar replied, eyes glinting as he casually closed the door.


    Rhaenyra tilted her head, continuing to brush her long, silky hair. ��Something wrong with Borros?��


    Her skepticism was understandable. Rhaegar had many capable men, strategically ced across the realm. However, he trusted only two women implicitly: Sara, of mysterious origin, and Skr, the bastard daughter of House Celtigar.


    Because of their unique positions, Rhaenyra had assigned Sara and Skr to safeguard Rhaenyra and Jeyne, respectively. This dual role was why Sara had checked with Rhaenyra before acting.


    Rhaegar walked behind Rhaenyra, gently taking theb from her hand. He began to stroke her long, silver-gold hair, his movements soothing.


    Staring into the mirror, his thoughts settled, and he sighed softly. ��Perhaps.��


    His prophetic dream,bined with Hena��s vision, seemed too significant to ignore. He couldn��t shake the feeling that something ominous was brewing around Borros.


    ...


    Two dayster, Dragonstone Ind.


    Boom...


    The tightly closed ck stone gate slowly opened, revealing the long steps of the towering stone bridge.


    More than a hundred well-equipped guards marched out to wee the king''s family.


    Swish Swish...


    With a steady and powerful pace, the guards split into two lines, standing tall and proud.


    Viserys nched, swallowing hard. His seasickness had returned, though it was not severe.


    Alicent held her husband''s hand and their youngest son, Daeron, in the other. She spoke softly, "Go ahead and get some rest."


    "Good, everyone is tired," Viserys forced a smile and, hand in hand with his wife, stepped onto the long steps of the stone bridge.


    Behind them, Hand of the King Lyonel, Otto, and Grand Maester Mellos followed unhurriedly. Their duties were more pressing than those of the other royal advisers.


    The Hand of the King assisted in political affairs, Otto watched over the Four Storms that apanied them, and the Grand Maester provided wisdom and medical help. Viserys'' seasickness had been alleviated by a soothing medication from the Grand Maester.


    After the advisers, three adult male heirs, Rhaegar, Daemon, and Aegon, led the way. Rhaenyra held her twin adopted daughters'' hands, while Hena and Aemond walked behind them with the chattering Four Storms.


    Daemon had been invited to the ind by his brother Viserys to witness his nephew''s dragon-taming journey. Laena, pregnant and with limited mobility, had disembarked earlier at Driftmark.


    The long steps of the stone bridge, wedged between the ck stone gate and the castle, wound several times. After a while, Viserys began to gasp, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. ncing at Lyonel and Otto, who seemed unaffected, hispetitive spirit red.


    "Ahem..." Viserys coughed lightly and initiated conversation. "This time, for Aemond''s dragon taming, which dragon do you think he''ll tame?"


    Lyonel hesitated before replying cautiously, "Taming dragons is very dangerous. It''s enough if the prince can avoid harm."


    "Don''t be so serious. I''m only asking about that one dragon," Viserys waved his hand with a smile. "Dragons are a Targaryen asset, and I''ve yet to hear of any Targaryen getting hurt from taming a dragon."


    Otto frowned, sensing deeper implications. Grand Maester Mellos raised an eyebrow, crossing his hands in his sleeves. "From memory, Prince Rhaegar attempted to tame Dreamfyre as a young boy, resulting in severe burns on his back."


    He remembered treating the wounds himself, a memory that stayed with him. Rhaegar, trailing behind, overheard and red resentfully.


    "Shame," Rhaenyra stifled a snicker.


    Rhaegar: ...


    What a humiliating moment.


    Hena tilted her head, surveying her brother curiously, not realizing he had been burned by Dreamfyre. A memory from when she was two years old surfaced. She recalled her brother lying injured in bed, and how she used to visit his room to y and blow gently on his wounds.


    Her bright eyes flickered as she nced at her sister, Rhaenyra, ring subtly. She clearly remembered that it was Rhaenyra who hadter found her and forbade her from ying in their brother''s room, even hiding her favorite dragon doll.


    ��Selfish!�� Hena muttered, resentful.


    Rhaenyra overheard and asked, "What did you say?"


    "Nothing!" Hena shivered, her little head bobbing rapidly.


    She was terrified of this sister, who had not treated her well since childhood. She had heard that if her mother hadn��t married her father, she wouldn��t have been allowed to call the other woman sister.


    Back to the conversation.


    Viserys, with a head full of frustrations, sighed, "Rhaegar is an exception. Dreamfyre was being abused by the Dragonkeepers and despite being injured by Dreamfyre, heter seeded in taming the Wild Dragon Cannibal."


    "It was not abuse. Dreamfyre has a violent personality, and Maester Bass was concerned for the safety of the Dragonkeeper," Mellos interjected, defending the maester.


    Viserys�� face darkened, and he said unhappily, "Does it matter?"


    That selfish maester��s actions caused his eldest son to be injured, and he remembered it for the rest of his life.


    Mellos, realizing he had overstepped, bowed his head and fell silent.


    After a few sentences of small talk, the three royal advisers began to understand that the king had other intentions.


    Lyonel''s eyes twinkled, and he spoke up, "Your Grace, which dragon do you think is the best to tame?"


    This was the right question, and Viserys immediately became interested. "Of course, it''s Vermithor, my grandfather Jaehaerys''s dragon. It''s thergest and most irascible adult dragon on Dragonstone Ind at the moment."


    "Vermithor holds the title of Bronze Fury, and his character has always been horrible. I��m afraid it��s not suitable for Prince Aemond," Lyonel responded thoughtfully.


    Viserys, simple-minded, considered for a while. "Vermithor is indeed dangerous. Silverwing would be a good choice. It was my grandmother Alyssane''s dragon, and it has the most docile character."


    There was one more thing unmentioned: Silverwing was close in age to Vermithor and second in size among the masterless dragons.


    By this point in the conversation, even Alicent could see Viserys'' fondness for dragons.


    Otto and his daughter exchanged nces, and Otto casually asked, "There is also a brown dragon called Sheepstealer on Dragonstone Ind. I heard its size is not inferior to Caraxes and Meleys."


    A sh of hesitation crossed Viserys'' eyes, and he shook his head. "Sheepstealer''s age is simr to the young dragons, and its size exceeds that of young dragons of the same time period, but its appearance is too unpleasant."


    Sheepstealer''s scales were an ugly brown y color, and its wings were brown as well. It was a recognized ugly monster.


    Despite his usual indifference to dragons, Viserys secretly knew all the dragons owned by the family.


    Lyonel''s lips quirked as if he wanted to say something.


    Otto kept quiet, observing the king''s furrowed brow as he talked about the dragons.


    With the topic of interest brought up, Viserys became more and more animated, his originally pale face regaining its color.


    A few momentster, Lyonel, whose eyelids were fluttering, could no longer hold his tongue and said stiffly, "Your Grace, remember? Our trip is for Prince Aemond''s dragon taming."


    "Eh ..." Viserys'' voice faltered as he looked at the Hand of the King in dismay.


    Lyonel took a deep breath and squeezed out a smile. "Taming dragons is a young man''s endeavor. I believe Prince Aemond will seed."


    He sensed the king''s desire for dragons. Naturally, he wished for a strong and powerful monarch, a valiant dragon master. However, everything couldn''t be done impulsively. From an objective perspective, it was risky for a king to tame a dragon.


    Although Viserys had once tamed the ck dread Balerion, who knew if he could do it again? One wrong move and the king could be at great risk.


    As the Hand of the King, Lyonel couldn''t ignore this risk and had to speak out.


    Viserys was taken aback, looking at Lyonel with embarrassment and ncing at Otto and Mellos out of the corner of his eye. All three had their heads bowed, saying nothing. Clearly, they were united in their silent opposition.


    Frozen for a moment, Viserys regained hisposure and forced a smile. "Actually, a lot of it lies in trying, right?"


    "......"


    Lyonel pursed his lips, unable to bear the king''s pleading gaze. Dyed in getting a response, Viserys felt a heavy weight on his chest, holding his breath.


    "Baa ......"


    Suddenly, the bleating of sheep broke the silence, along with the asional yell of a shepherd.


    "Viserys, are you all right?" Alicent asked, shaking her husband''s arm with concern.


    "Fine, just a little tired."


    Not wanting his wife to see his vulnerability, Viserys withdrew his arm and looked in the direction of the sheep''s call. The long steps of the stone bridge were built into the steep mountain range. Looking up, they saw thin clouds and mist; looking down, they saw dense shrubbery.


    They were halfway up the hill, located on a low-lying section of the ridge. Viserys rested both hands on the stone bridge, gazing down at a pasture-rich slope below. An unrecognizable shepherd wielded a short whip, driving dozens of goats up the slope, munching on crisp des of grass.


    Clouds, long bridge, wilderness, shepherd... several factors made up a beautiful scene. As this picturesque view unfolded before him, Viserys smiled, feeling a sense of fulfillment knowing his people were living well.


    "Roar ......"


    Suddenly, the clouds above stirred, and a sharp dragon roar echoed through the long bridge. Viserys looked up in surprise, catching a blur of brown in his vision.


    "Baa! ......"


    In the next moment, the goats'' screams filled the air, desperate and terrified. "Don''t! My goat!"


    Viserys hastily looked down to see the shepherd paralyzed with fear, wailing miserably. With a slight sideways nce, a brown, decrepit dragon pounced on the ground, its dry, thin ws stomping on the carcasses of two twitching goats.


    The grotesque dragon''s head, with sunken eye sockets, was raised high, its fangs interlocking as it swallowed a living goat whole.

 Chapter 307: Breeds of Dragons

    Chapter 307: Breeds of Dragons


    Up close to the wild dragon, Viserys narrowed his eyes and blurted out, "Sheepstealer!"


    Recognizing the dragon''s brown mud-colored scales and emaciated, menacing appearance, he was certain of its identity.


    "Your Grace, this is apletely untamed wild dragon. We should stay away," Lyonel warned, his eyes alert. The three royal advisers stepped forward, trying to hold the king back and escort him across the long flight of steps.


    Meanwhile, the dragon chewed and swallowed the goat whole in two bites.


    "Roar..."


    Satisfied with the thrill of the chase, the dragon shook his head and pped his wings, soaring into the air. Its ws, covered with scaly patches, grasped the goat carcasses, dripping stinking blood.


    Viserys, standing directly below, was sttered with blood and dodged frantically. The dragon''s nose twitched as it took in themotion below, its brown-ck vertical pupils focused on the group on the steps.


    As an untamed wild dragon, Sheepstealer had little to do but steal sheep and attack sheepdogs. As Viserys lifted his cloak over his head, he got a clear look at the dragon.


    Brown mud-colored scales covered its body, broad brown wings pped, and its dry dragon head, slightly rounded, was topped with irregr rhomboid horns instead of the typical dragon horns. The dragon wasrge but bony, as if its scales barely covered its skeleton, with sharp ws growing from its feet.


    "It is ugly indeed," Viserys marveled at the dragon''s appearance.


    "Roar..."


    The dragon hovered, its pupils staring down, and with a mischievous roar it released the goat carcass.


    "Dodge!" Viserys shouted, tearing at his cloak as he lunged for his wife and young son.


    Pfft...


    The goat carcass crashed down in the middle of the line, hot blood spilling out, mixed with chunks of freshly minced meat. Viserys, close to the wall, covered his head and wrapped his arms around Alicent and Daeron beneath him.


    On the other side, Lyonel and the others couldn''t dodge in time. Despite lying on their backs, they were sttered with blood and flesh.


    "How are you doing?" Viserys lifted his cloak, nervously checking his wife and son''s well-being.


    "I''m fine, check on my father and the others," Alicent said, holding the dazed Daeron tightly.


    Viserys looked up, seeing Lyonel and the others sprawled on the floor, motionless, with a dead sheep lying across the steps. The white wool was soaked in blood, with one front leg intact.


    Above, thin clouds drifted, and the sun shed silken spots of light. The dragon was nowhere to be seen.


    Not far behind, thegging line stirred. Hearing the unfamiliar dragon roar, Rhaegar let go of Rhaena''s small hand, intent on rushing to his father''s side.


    "Roar..."


    A salty sea breeze blew, carrying a faint smell of goat and the excited roar of a mischievous dragon. Rhaegar paused, tilting his head in surprise.


    The dragons of Dragonstone Ind typically nested around Dragonmont and rarely ventured near the castle or the long steps of the stone bridge.


    "Roar..."


    A strong wind swept through the air as Sheepstealer emerged from the mountain ridge beside the stone bridge, pping its wings above Rhaegar''s group. Its ugly head, high in the air, looked down at the crowd below, reveling in its recent sess.


    "Be careful, it''s a wild dragon," Rhaegar warned, pulling Rhaenyra and Hena behind him. The dragons on Dragonstone Ind usually kept to themselves, causing minimal disturbance to the residents.


    Vermithor and Silverwing were sleeping in Dragonmont, while Cannibal and Grey Ghost hadrgely moved away. Sheepstealer was the only wild dragon that asionally appeared, poaching sheep and tormenting herders'' dogs.


    Rhaegar noticed the bloody goat in Sheepstealer''s ws and realized it had just seeded in its hunt. The dragon''s vertical pupils swept over Rhaegar, Daemon, Rhaenyra, and Hena, a sh of scorn in its eyes. It smelled the presence of its own kind and disliked the putrid odor of the dragon-eating species it sensed on Rhaegar.


    "Father..."


    Feeling Sheepstealer''s scrutinizing gaze, Ba and Rhaena curled up behind Daemon, one hugging his thigh. Daemon''s brows knitted together, his right hand gripping the hilt of his sword as he observed the dragon''s every move. He didn''t panic, knowing the dragon wouldn''t attack humans without reason, especially after a sessful hunt.


    In contrast, the Four Storms shrieked in shock, hiding behind Aemond. "Che, childish," Aemond muttered, ignoring them. Standing on his tiptoes, his eyes burned into the giant dragon above.


    Sheepstealer''s size impressed Aemond. It surpassed Caraxes and was slightly smaller than Dreamfyre. His eyes lit up with excitement, "A dragon! A good-sized wild dragon!"


    However, upon seeing Sheepstealer''s true appearance, Aemond''s face crumpled in disappointment. "What an ugly dragon!" he muttered. He wanted a dragon big enough to prove himself, but Sheepstealer''s appearance was off-putting. His facial expression shifted between excitement and disappointment, torn as if choosing between pie or jam for breakfast.


    "Roar..."


    The Sheepstealer cocked its head, its vertical pupils ncing at the silver-haired boy who had been staring at it. As if wondering if the boy was admiring its grace, it pped its wings, hovering mid-air with its ws clutching the nearly cold goat carcass.


    Noticing its movements, Rhaegar stepped back subtly and warned, "Stay away. Sheepstealer is very unpredictable."


    Everyone obeyed, sticking close to the walls on either side and spreading out. Rhaegar felt slightly relieved.


    On Dragonstone Ind, Cannibal and other dragons often roamed nearby waters instead of the ind itself. The moment they heard Sheepstealer''s roar, Cannibal sensed it and quickly returned.


    "Roar!


    A low, muffled roar like a bell came from the beach, startling a flock of seabirds nesting in the broken cliffs. The familiar roar reached Sheepstealer''s ears, causing it to twist its head in panic. Its vertical pupils showed moments of fear.


    Cannibal had returned.


    Remembering the times it was hunted as a young dragon and once as an adult, Sheepstealer felt a phantom pain, as if sharp ws as ck as charcoal had prated its torso.


    Sweeping its gaze over the crowd below, Sheepstealer pped its wings and rose into the air, taking onest nce at the silver-haired boy. Its ws loosened, and the goat carcass was thrown out.


    "Watch out!" Rhaegar''s face tightened as he turned to shield Rhaenyra and Hena.


    St!


    The goat carcass hit the stone floor with precision, blood sttering and wool fluttering about. Aemond, crouching closest to the carcass, was sttered with blood.


    Taking advantage of the distraction, Sheepstealer turned and fled, grabbing another goat from the wailing shepherd on its way out.


    As it left, Cannibal arrived.


    Its ck wings spread wide, and its huge, mountain-like body quickly broke through the clouds. Rhaegar sighed in relief as his dragon arrived. The power of Cannibal was undeniable, its size nearly matching that of the legendary dragon Vhagar. Its ethereal green dragonfire and extreme speed made it a formidablebatant.


    Dragons came in various breeds, forms, and talents. Cannibal''s noble bloodline allowed it to grow so fast and huge. To the wild dragons of Dragonstone Ind, Cannibal was like an emperor. Neither Sheepstealer nor Grey Ghost dared to provoke it.


    "Is everyone alright?" Rhaegar checked on Four Storms and Aemond. The sisters huddled together in fear, while Aemond crouched dumbfounded, wiping goat''s blood from his forehead.


    "Is everything alright?" Rhaegar half-crouched and locked eyes with him earnestly.


    "Fine!" Aemond sprang up, eyes shining with excitement. "Big brother, take me to tame a dragon. I want to tame the strongest dragon!"


    Encountering a wild dragon for the first time had awakened a wild desire in Aemond. He wanted to tame not just any dragon, but the most powerful one.


    Rhaegar patted his head and said, "Don''t daydream. Taming a dragon depends on luck. Dragons choose their riders, not the other way around."


    Confirming everyone was fine, Rhaegar hurried to his father. Sheepstealer must have terrorized them earlier. Luckily, this dragon, though mischievous, rarely attacked humans unprovoked, preferring to steal sheep instead.


    ...


    Stone Drum Tower


    After the incident with Sheepstealer, the group safely entered the castle.


    "Viserys, I''m not feeling well. I''ll go rest," Alicent said listlessly, still shaken by the encounter.


    As she ascended the stairs, Viserys nced at Lyonel and the other advisors with a wry smile. "Women are always so delicate, not strong like men."


    Before the advisors could respond, Rhaenyra, trailing just behind, interjected. "You''re right, father," she said pointedly, taking the hands of her two adopted daughters and heading up the stairs.


    "Darling, you know I didn''t mean it like that," Viserys called after her, feeling a pang of regret.


    Rhaenyra''s sensitivity to male chauvinism had slipped his mind.


    Rhaegar, observing the exchange, chuckled softly. "She''s just tired, father. She won''t stay angry."


    "By the Seven Gods, I truly misspoke," Viserys sighed.


    Rhaegar said nothing more, instead directing the maids to escort his younger siblings and the Four Storms to their quarters. Just as he was about to follow Rhaenyra upstairs, Viserys called him back.


    "Rhaegar, wait a moment."


    Viserys had also summoned his brother Daemon, Lyonel, and the other royal advisors.


    "Your Grace, how can I assist you?" Lyonel asked, both shy and serious.


    "Don''t be so formal, Lyonel. This isn''t about state affairs; it''s a personal matter," Viserys rified, then continued. "My son Aemond wants to tame a dragon, and I share his ambition."


    "What do you think?"

 Chapter 308: The Dangers of the Citadel

    Chapter 308: The Dangers of the Citadel


    A heavy silence filled the room as Viserys'' words hung in the air. Rhaegar looked at his father in surprise, not expecting him to be so direct.


    Across the room, Daemon''s cold, deep eyes met his. Though Daemon remained still, a sh of surprise crossed his features. He knew his brother well.


    Viserys, the good-natured man who avoided conflict and distanced himself from dragons, was now talking about taming one himself.


    Daemon, never one to hide his feelings, smirked. "I never thought I''d hear you talk about wanting a dragon, brother."


    "That''s not the point, Daemon," Viserys replied, shaking his head. "The family is growing stronger by the day. Every child will have a dragon, and it��s time an elder managed them."


    The sincerity in Viserys''s voice was evident as he met Daemon��s gaze. His usual carefree demeanor masked a sharp mind. When necessary, he showed his ambition.


    The Sea Snake of Driftmark Ind had built a formidable legacy over the years. With Daemon''s alliance with the Sea Snake, theymanded four dragons: Vhagar, Caraxes, Meleys, and Sea Smoke. Once Laena''s twins matured and the child in her womb was born, three more dragons would be added to their ranks.


    Viserys��s children, Rhaegar and Rhaenyra, held Dragonstone Ind and Harrenhal, respectively, and rode Cannibal and Syrax. Viserys himself could tame Vermithor, Silverwing, Sheepstealer, Grey Ghost or Stormcloud.


    While their strength seemed unrivaled now, Viserys was aware of potential future conflicts. He and Alicent had three sons and a daughter, three of whom were dragon riders, with one on the verge of taming another.


    Though the children currently obeyed their eldest half-brother, Rhaegar, peace was tenuous. In a few years, as they all matured into true dragon riders, tensions could escte.


    Viserys foresaw the possibility of a three-way conflict among Rhaegar, his second son Aegon, and Daemon. To prevent this, he aimed to tame another dragon while he was still in good health. His goal was to strengthen his position and support Rhaegar in maintaining family unity.


    Seeing the determination in Viserys''s eyes, Daemon narrowed his gaze, deep in thought. He realized his brother had sensed his own ambitions.


    After a moment, Daemon exhaled deeply, his lips curving into a smile as he resumed his usual nonchnt demeanor. "I agree. The king deserves to have a dragon."


    With Daemon''s support, others werepelled to take a stance. "I also agree. Father is looking out for more than just himself; he''s looking out for the family," Rhaegar said, raising his right hand in full support. He recognized that his father''s proposal would help maintain control over Daemon and Aegon, ensuring a smoother path for their future.


    With two votes of confidence, Viserys smiled, looking expectantly at Lyonel and the other advisors.


    Lyonel furrowed his brows, his expression serious as he considered the implications.


    Otto''s eyes were sharp, constantly gauging the expressions of those present. Grand Maester Mellos fidgeted with his hands hidden in his sleeves, his wrinkled face radiating disapproval.


    "Well, say something," Viserys demanded, growing jittery at their hesitation.


    Lyonel finally spoke up, "Your Grace, you are the king of a realm, and we have just been harassed by a wild dragon. You must understand the dangers involved."


    Grand Maester Mellos followed with a stern rebuke, "Your Grace, your body is bruised and battered. Riding a dragon will only exacerbate your condition."


    Otto was thest to speak, murmuring, "I agree with the two lords. Taming a dragon is no trivial matter."


    Though Otto''s motives were different��he didn��t want the king to control the dragons and potentially limit the influence of his grandchildren��he chose his words carefully to avoid appearing selfish.


    Viserys, facing unanimous opposition from his advisers, was furious. "I am the king! I tamed Balerion!"


    Grand Maester Mellos, unphased, retorted, "That ck dragon was dying, and you only rode it once."


    An intense argument broke out. Viserys was determined to tame another dragon and fulfill his vision of soaring through the skies. Rhaegar supported his father, recognizing the potential benefits for the family. Daemon, ever the observer, chimed in asionally, enjoying the unfolding drama.


    Lyonel, Mellos, and Otto remained steadfast in their opposition, particrly Mellos, who argued vehemently about the dangers and the king��s fragile health.


    Half an hour passed.


    "Ahem..." Viserys, his face reddened from the argument, was seized by a violent cough.


    "Your physical condition is clear to yourself," Mellos reprimanded, his tone unyielding. "Venturing to tame a dragon will only harm you further."


    Viserys, unable to stop coughing, pointed a trembling finger at Mellos, furious and frustrated.


    Lyonel and Otto backed down, unwilling to provoke the king further. Mellos, however, continued, "Taming dragons is for the young. You are over forty..."


    "Shut up!" Rhaegar��s face darkened, his eyes glinting with anger.


    The decision to tame a dragon was his father��s alone. His role was to advise, not to dictate.


    Mellos, momentarily taken aback, replied, "Prince, I am the Grand Maester, the best advisor in knowledge and wisdom."


    "If you are truly wise, then heal my father��s wounds first," Rhaegar retorted, his tone harsh.


    Mellos, clearly flustered, stammered, "It''s not my fault. It��s the condition of the realm..."


    "Oh, I suggest you shut up," Daemon interjected, his eyes glinting with amusement as if he were watching a prey.


    "Father!" Rhaegar, supporting his father, who was still bent over coughing, shot a nce at Daemon.


    The exchange seemed to embolden Mellos. Ignoring Otto��s warning nce, he continued, "The king��s physique is special. It��s not that I..."


    As soon as Mellos spoke, Rhaegar moved swiftly, not giving him a chance to finish.


    Swish--


    A dark light shed as ckfyre, the ancestral sword, unsheathed.


    Before Mellos could react, ckfyre''s de arced through the air, brushing past his ear.


    St!


    Mellos felt a cold sting and watched in horror as a bloodstained ear fell to the ground.


    A brief silence ensued.


    "Ah! My ear!"


    Sharp pain hit him, and Mellos screamed, clutching the side of his head. He fell to the ground, writhing in agony, his head striking the floor repeatedly as cold sweat soaked his robes.


    Daemon watched with interest, nudging the severed ear with his foot and snickering, "Told you to shut up."


    The ear twitched in front of Mellos''s eyes, as if still alive. He red at Rhaegar in disbelief.


    Rhaegar remained calm, nting ckfyre''s tip on the ground. "Do not impose your ipetence on the patient. You have failed in your duties."


    Rhaegar had long suspected Mellos of ulterior motives butcked evidence. Mellos''s vehement opposition to taming the dragon seemed excessive, almost treasonous.


    The scene had unfolded too quickly for anyone to fully grasp.


    Lyonel, shaken by Mellos''s plight, protested, "Prince, he is a royal adviser! You cannot dispose of him so casually!"


    Rhaegar returned his cold stare, then looked to his father, who had stopped coughing.


    Viserys, gasping for breath, gripped his eldest son''s arm tightly. He hadn''t expected such decisive action from Rhaegar.


    "Your Grace, Mellos is both a Grand Maester and a Royal Advisor. He should not be treated this way," Lyonel appealed to the king''s sense of justice.


    "As Hand of the King, I cannot condone cruelty from the Heir."


    "Lord Lyonel, there is more to this than meets the eye," Rhaegar interrupted. "Mellos failed to treat my father on purpose."


    Lyonel was stunned, trying to process this usation.


    Rhaegar raised ckfyre, its tip pointing at the fallen Mellos. "In his time at court, Mellos has provided only a handful of remedies for my father, none of which alleviated his suffering."


    "That''s not enough evidence," Otto interjected, his eyes deep and calcting.


    Rhaegar''s tone was icy. "Lord Jasperis ipetent and has wasted my father''s time and energy."


    By the time the spies discovered anything, Mellos would have been absolved of his sins.


    Viserys, sensing the gravity of the situation, forced himself to speak, "Rhaegar, what do you propose?"


    "Father, Mellos should be ced under house arrest and a new Maester summoned," Rhaegar replied firmly.


    Viserys nced at Lyonel and Otto before nodding. "Alright, let''s do that."


    He disengaged from Rhaegar''s support and began ascending the stairs, not sparing Mellos a nce.


    After the argument, even the good-tempered man was full of anger.


    It was better for his eldest son to cut off the other man''s ear than for him to cut out the man''s tongue.


    His previously good opinion of Mellos had soured, and he felt a sense of relief at his eldest son''s decisive action.


    Once Viserys left, Daemon followed, leaving Rhaegar and the three royal advisers in the hall.


    "Lord Lyonel, I hope you understand," Rhaegar said, attempting to ease the tension. "With Mellos under house arrest, Maester Orwyle will temporarily take over my father''s treatment."


    "Orwyle?" Lyonel asked, recalling the honest and serious assistant Maester.


    Rhaegar nodded. "Orwylees from a noble family and has the ability to discern right from wrong. He will be tested first."


    Rhaegar''s words implied that the Citadel''s influence over Maesters was problematic and needed scrutiny.


    "I''m going to see my father. Mellos is in your custody," Rhaegar said tly, wiping ckfyre''s bloodstained de on Mellos''s robes.


    ckfyre symbolized kingship��kingship could be stained with blood, but never tainted.

 Chapter 309: Splitting the Greens

    Chapter 309: Splitting the Greens


    Evening


    Dark clouds obscured the bright moon as the sea breeze beat against the walls of Stone Drum Tower, echoing like a distant drum.


    Crunch!


    A door creaked open and Rhaegar, dressed in ck, stepped out.


    He looked back and sighed softly. "Rest well, Father."


    After facing the rejection of his decision and witnessing the treachery of the Grand Maester, Viserys was in an extremely bad mood and retreated to his room to numb his nerves with alcohol.


    After a long afternoon, he was disheveled beyond recognition.


    It was uncertain if he would ever regain his resolve to tame the dragon.


    ...


    As Rhaegar descended the stairs from the top floor of the Stone Drum Tower, he intended to return to his room for some rest. He shared a room with Rhaenyra, and the two siblings often shared little secrets with each other.


    Rounding a corner, he noticed a maid waiting discreetly. Rhaegar paused and cast a nce her way.


    The maid lowered her head and carefully handed over a piece of letter paper, whispering, "A letter from Lady Sara."


    "Got it," Rhaegar said, taking the letter and waving his hand to signal her departure.


    The maid, as if given an amnesty, hurried down the stairs.


    Sara had a knack for cultivating loyal subordinates, ensuring the maids of honor within the castle were well-trained to serve Rhaenyra.


    Rhaegar found an unupied corner and unfolded the letter to read it.


    "Borros dead... suspected poisoning... Rhaenys..."


    The more Rhaegar read, the more rmed he became, his eyebrows furrowing deeply.


    Borros had died on his way back to Storm''s End, confirming his prophecy with Hena. ording to Sara''s spection, it seemed Borros had been poisoned. The poison was of such high quality that the maester couldn''t determine the cause.


    Rhaenys, invited to witness her cousin Borros''s death, stayed at Storm''s End to apany Lady Elenda, Borros''s widow, who was thoroughly investigating the cause.


    Clenching his fists, the letter crumpling in his palm, Rhaegar felt a cold sweat break out on his back.


    "Borros is actually dead!"


    Rhaegar murmured, his expression dazed.


    A realm lord dying so suddenly hinted at a bold and daring plot. Such a scourge needed to be eradicated.


    Rhaegar considered whether to present the letter to his father. As soon as Rhaenys returned to Storm''s End, she had sent a letter to King''s Landing, reporting Borros''s death. The raven arrived in King''s Landing first and was forwarded to Dragonstone, dyed along the way. Meanwhile, Sara had rushed to Storm''s End and transmitted the message directly to Dragonstone via raven, much faster.


    Before taking another step, Rhaegar dispelled the idea. The trip to Dragonstone Ind was for dragon taming, not only for Aemond but also to encourage his father. Revealing this matter now would cause a shock, potentially further weakening his father''s will to tame a dragon.


    Besides...


    Rhaegar recalled certain memories and muttered, "Borros likely died unnaturally. Someone must be plotting something."


    Using simple reasoning, he thought about who would benefit the most from Borros''s death. The widow, Lady Elenda? Some distant cousin with the right to inherit? The inws of the Caron House?


    One by one, Rhaegar considered the possible beneficiaries connected to House Baratheon, carefully analyzing their motives.


    After a moment, he shook his head and murmured, "No, these people don''t gain enough to risk so much."


    There was another crucial point.


    These peoplecked the capability to acquire such a sophisticated poison that could silently take a person''s life.


    Lady Elenda and Borros had a fair rtionship as husband and wife, evidenced by their four daughters.


    Borros had no brothers, and his distant cousins were too far removed in generations to have much contact or motive.


    The CaronHouse''snds were in Nightsong, guarding the Dornish bordends for generations. Their patriarch, Royce, was Borros'' father-inw, making it unlikely they would kill Borros.


    Turning around, Rhaegar leaned on the staircase railing, deep in thought.


    Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a green potted nt by the fence.


    The sh of green triggered a realization. "A marriage!" Rhaegar murmured.


    Borros''s death left no direct male heir, throwing the line of session into uncertainty.


    Two categories of people had the right to inherit:


    1. Borros'' four daughters.


    2. Distant cousins with tenuous blood ties.


    In Westeros, the tradition of the Andals favored male inheritance. However, it wasn''t unheard of for women to inherit titles andnds, as exemplified by Jeyne of the Vale, who inherited the Eyrie at the age of three and became known as the Maiden of the Vale.


    The Baratheon cousins'' bloodline was too scattered and weak to make a sessful im.


    Lady Elenda, Borros'' widow, was effectively the head of Storm''s End now, supported by her cousin Rhaenys. Elenda would likely push for one of her daughters to inherit, emting Jeyne''s situation, which would create a potential issue.


    A woman in Westeros eventually had to marry. Jeyne had avoided marriage to retain her power and prevent her husband''s dominance. If Cassandra, one of Borros''s daughters, inherited Storm''s End, she would be a second Jeyne.


    At this moment, the Four Storms were considering a union with Aemond. If Aemond married Cassandra and she inherited Storm''s End, he would gain significant power and influence over the Stornds.


    A storm of realization swept through Rhaegar''s mind, and he eximed in shock, "Alicent, Larys!"


    The ones who stood to benefit the most from such a marriage were Alicent and Otto''s faction, the so-called Green Faction, as well as Aemond.


    Otto was too cautious and arrogant tomit such a bold act. Larys, however, was different.


    After a brief interaction, Rhaegar had discerned that Larys was someone ustomed to darkness and repression.


    Larys served as the King''s Inquisitor, assisting the Master of Laws, Jasper, in prisoner interrogations. No prisoner who faced Larys remained silent, as his methods were rumored to be extremely cruel.


    Alicent''s character was twisted. Outwardly obedient to her father and husband, she tried to y the role of a good wife and mother. Inwardly, she was proud, unwilling to be subordinate, and fiercely protective.


    After a long period of internal conflict, Alicent was restless and desperate for change, making Larys the perfect partner for her ambitions.


    Recalling the night of the Kingswood Hunt, Rhaegar had seen Alicent and Larys plotting in private.


    He wondered, "When did the idea of poisoning Borros arise?"


    It was likely around the same time his dream foretold the death of the White Hart.


    Comparing the timeline of Borros''s death in Sara''s letter, it matched closely with Hena''s prophecy.


    "The world is full of coincidences," Rhaegar mused. "But too many coincidences aren''t normal."


    Regardless of the truth, he had ssified Alicent and Larys as dangerous.


    After some thought, Rhaegar decided it was time to act.


    ...


    The following day, in the town of Dragonstone Ind:


    Rhaegar, draped in ck robes, led a group of Dragonkeepers. Behind him, Aemond, Hena, Cassandra and Maris of the Four Storms followed closely. The other two sisters of the Four Storms were too young and had been left behind.


    As they walked along the dirt road, nked by densely packed stone and wood houses, traders asionally crossed their path. In the distance, the towering Dragonmont loomed, an active volcano surrounded by mountains and jungles.


    Aemond ran ahead, excitement lighting up his face. "Brother, when are we going to tame the dragon?"


    Rhaegar, his face hidden under his hood, smiled slightly. "Eager, are we?"


    "Uh-huh," Aemond nodded vigorously. "I want to go to Dragonmont, where Vermithor is sleeping!"


    His recent encounter with the wild dragon Sheepstealer had only heightened his desire for the strongest dragon, surpassing even Grey Ghost and Stormcloud. The Bronze Fury, Vermithor, had filled his thoughts, a legacy of their great-grandfather Jehaerys.


    Rhaegar rubbed Aemond��s head and asked curiously, "Why not choose Silverwing?"


    He didn��t bother mentioning Sheepstealer; after all, few desired an ugly, wild dragon.


    "Because Vermithor is stronger, second only to Vhagar and Cannibal!" Aemond replied without hesitation.


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing his younger brother. A good ambition, if a bit brash. It reminded him of Maegor I, who, in his youth, had refused to hatch eggs or tame young dragons, insisting only the strongest dragon was worthy of him.


    Maegor hadter seized the throne from his nephew Aegon.


    Noticing Rhaegar''s strange gaze, Aemond winced, sensing he might have upset him. Thinking quickly, he added, "Father will also tame dragons. Silverwing is gentler and would be suitable for him."


    Rhaegar''s lips curled into a smile. "You''re sincere."


    He didn��t mind Aemond��s ambition. Most Targaryens shared that trait. More importantly, he appreciated Aemond��s honesty��a quality perhaps fostered by Rhaegar��s own gentle treatment.


    Unlike others, Aemond feltfortable speaking freely with Rhaegar, a refreshing contrast to Aegon, who only seemed interested in drinking and consorting with prostitutes.


    Rhaegar put his arm around Aemond��s shoulder and turned to Cassandra, speaking gently, "I need to have a word with Aemond. Please excuse us."


    Cassandra, flustered by Rhaegar��s grace, whispered, "Prince, please go ahead."


    "Thank you." Rhaegar smiled politely, guiding Aemond toward a nearby well.


    Cassandra watched him go, her hands sped over her chest, her voice barely audible, "You''re wee."


    Rhaegar, the Heir of the King, was handsome, skilled in martial arts, and had ridden a dragon to conquer the Stepstones. He was her ideal marriage partner.


    Seeing her sister''s wistful expression, Maris nudged her. "Rhaegar has an engagement. Don''t forget our purpose!"


    Maris, too, admired Rhaegar but knew her ce better than her sisters.


    At the back, Hena observed the whispering sisters, suspicion flickering in her eyes. But no one paid them much mind.


    Rhaegar and Aemond sat on the well''s edge. "What is it you want to tell me, brother?" Aemond leaned into his brother''s embrace, his eyes wide with curiosity.

 Chapter 310: Winning Over Aemond

    Chapter 310: Winning Over Aemond


    The brothers sat by the well, facing the three girls who kept their distance.


    Rhaegar ced his hands on Aemond''s shoulders, his voice gentle. "You''ve spent days with the Four Storms. Is there one who has caught your eye?"


    Aemond''s head drooped at the mention of marriage, clearly disinterested.


    "You''ll marry sooner orter, and at least now you have four candidates," Rhaegar said, shaking his head with a faint smile. "Every proud man resists an arranged marriage unless the match is truly exceptional."


    "Actually, I''m not keen on this marriage," Aemond muttered, looking defeated. "If I had to choose, it would be Cassandra."


    Rhaegar nced at Cassandra. She had the ssic Baratheon features: long ck hair down to her waist and bright, captivating eyes that exuded an aristocratic aura. Among the Four Storms, Maris was clever but in, and the other two were too young, only three and four years old. Seventeen-year-old Cassandra stood out with her intelligence and beauty, her long legsplementing her tall figure.


    Rhaegar winked and chuckled softly. "Not a bad choice. She''s only six years older than you. Rhaenyra and I have an eight-year gap."


    Aemond looked up indignantly. "Rhaenyra is a Targaryen; Cassandra is just a Baratheon!"


    "Oh, I''m sorry," Rhaegar said, taken aback by Aemond''s vehemence. He wasn''t angry; he found Aemond''s fierce loyalty to their lineagemendable.


    Realizing his outburst, Aemond nced nervously at Cassandra and her sisters, ensuring they hadn''t overheard. Relieved, he sighed. "The regret is mine. Only you and Aegon were ever fit to marry a Targaryen."


    Family tradition dictated that the eldest male heirs married within the family, while younger heirs allied with other noble houses.


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow, sensing deeper implications in Aemond''s words. Deciding not to press, he asked casually, "Does Alicent support you marrying Cassandra?"


    "She can''t wait for me to pick the eldest and win Lord Borros'' favor," Aemond said bitterly.


    Rhaegar smiled coldly, tightening his grip on Aemond''s shoulder. "House Baratheon is powerful. Their support will strengthen you and our family."


    Shifting the conversation, he said, "Vermithor and Silverwing are resting in Dragonmont. For safety, I suggest you bond with Silverwing first. It''s more docile, as you said."


    The topic of marriage ended there. It was clear Alisant had urged Aemond to choose Cassandra, likely knowing she would inherit Storm��s End.


    Aemond, oblivious to his brother''s machinations, said earnestly, "I want to tame Vermithor. It''s stronger and can help me regain my honor."


    Rhaegar frowned at Aemond''s candidness, sensing a dangerous negativity in him. Under his brother''s stern gaze, Aemond lowered his head, admitting, "Aegon always mocks me, and courtiers whisper that I''m not even as good as little Daeron."


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed with anger. Aemond was his brother, blood of his blood, and no one had the right to demean him.


    With a cold, determined look, Rhaegar pressed Aemond''s head to his chest and whispered fiercely, "If anyone mocks you again, you will pull out his tongue."


    Aemond looked up, shocked by his brother''s intensity.


    Rhaegar''s expression remained stern. "You have that right, as long as you''re certain theyughed at you."


    "Mother always taught me not to shame myself with others," Aemond stammered, recalling his mother''s teachings.


    It was clear that Rhaegar''s approach starkly contrasted with his mother''s advice.


    Rhaegar gazed into Aemond''s trembling eyes, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Alicent is not a Targaryen; she can''t raise you properly."


    "But..."


    "She''s a Hightower," Rhaegar interrupted, his tone sharp. "A name synonymous with self-interest."


    Aemond looked around, confusion and turmoil churning inside him. Rhaegar let the silence stretch, confident that Aemond woulde to understand. The Targaryens were from Valyria, a lineage unlike any other in Westeros��marked by chaos, nobility, and me.


    As Aemond wrestled with his thoughts, Rhaegar pulled out a small square stone and a carving knife from his Space Bracelet. The de moved swiftly, almost as if it were an extension of Rhaegar''s hand. Within minutes, a three-headed red dragon emerged on the stone''s surface.


    Aemond, distracted by the sounds, watched Rhaegar''s deft movements. Rhaegar continued carving on the other side, etching intricate High Valyrian symbols and strange lines. Aemond''s eyes widened as he tried to make sense of the symbols.


    The stone was soon adorned with a pattern of circr lines, resembling a slender dragon coiled around the surface. With both sidesplete, Rhaegar cut his finger and let a drop of blood fall onto the carved stone.


    The blood flowed through the grooves, staining the dragon and runes a deep crimson. The transformation was swift and mesmerizing, turning the stone into something otherworldly. Rhaegar, satisfied, sealed his wound with a touch.


    "Here, keep it," Rhaegar said, tossing the stone to Aemond.


    Aemond caught it clumsily, inspecting the now-blood-stained carving. "You know stone carving?"


    "Obviously," Rhaegar replied with a nonchnt smile. He had learned the skill from his father, Viserys, during one of the rare peaceful periods after bing the heir. It was a respite from the rigorous education demanded by the Maesters of the Citadel.


    Aemond gazed adoringly at his older brother, turning the stone tablet over in his hands. "What does it do? Why did you drip blood on it?"


    "Obey," Rhaegar instructed.


    "Huh?" Aemond''s eyes widened in confusion.


    Rhaegar smiled. "It''s High Valyrian, it means ''Obey''."


    Aemond cocked his head, still puzzled.


    Rhaegar continued, "When you face a dragon you want to tame, raise the stone que and shout that phrase. It will help."


    The engraving on the stone tablet was a pacification technique from the Forbidden Spell. Rhaegar didn''t trust his siblings enough to give them the full spell, but he wanted to help Aemond a little. Infused with his blood, the stone held a momentary effect. Using it while taming a dragon wouldn''t guarantee sess but would at least protect Aemond from dragonfire.


    "Really?" Aemond asked, eyes wide as he stared at the tablet.


    He had heard rumors from his sister Hena about Rhaegar''s mysterious powers, so he was half-skeptical.


    "Of course," Rhaegar replied simply.


    Still unsure, Aemond examined the stone tablet.


    Rhaegar shook his head, stood up, and brushed the stone chips off his ck robe. He held out the steel carving knife for Aemond to see.


    Aemond nced away, uncertain.


    With a flick of his wrist, Rhaegar''s palm burst into mes, the heat distorting the air and forcing Aemond to lean back. The steel carving knife twisted and melted, dripping molten iron onto the ground.


    Aemond was stunned, watching the iron cool and smoke on the damp soil.


    Rhaegar shook his hand clean of any residue and asked calmly, "Do you believe now?"


    Aemond, still in shock, nodded. "Yes, I believe."


    "Very well," Rhaegar said, putting his hands behind his back. "The experienced Dragonkeepers will take you and Hena to Dragonmont to familiarize yourselves with the environment. I have other matters to attend to."


    As he turned to leave, Aemond called out, "Wait!"


    Rhaegar stopped but didn''t turn around.


    He wanted to support his underappreciated younger brother and, in doing so, gather a fragile heart that had been suppressed for a long time. When carving the stone tablet, he had thought through his ns. By giving it to Aemond, he hoped to foster their brotherly bond without destroying it.


    "Wait, Rhaegar," Aemond called again, running to stand in front of his brother.


    This time, he didn''t call out to his older brother as he usually did but addressed him as he would Aegon.


    Rhaegar''s mouth curled into a slight smile. "What''s the matter?"


    "I... I wanted to say thank you."


    Nervous and unable to find the right words, Aemond clutched the stone tablet and looked up at Rhaegar with one eye.


    Rhaegar remained silent, gazing at him calmly.


    "I... I wanted to say thank you," Aemond repeated, summoning all his courage. As soon as the words left his mouth, he lowered his head, closing his eyes in embarrassment.


    He feared Rhaegar''s ridicule, having been teased often by Aegon about his knowledge of manners. But the expected mockery never came.


    Rhaegar reached out and ruffled Aemond''s hair, smiling warmly. "Aemond, you are my brother. Just as Daemon never says thank you to our father, you don��t need to thank me."


    He gave Aemond a final pat on the shoulder and turned to leave, but Aemond grabbed his ck robes in a fluster. "This is different!"


    Rhaegar turned back, curiosity in his eyes, waiting to see what Aemond had to say.


    "I understand the conflicts you have with Grandfather and the others," Aemond continued. "I am not a fool and can recognize good from bad."


    Rhaegar waited patiently as Aemond struggled to find his words.


    "What I''m trying to say is..." Aemond gritted his teeth, finally making up his mind. Holding the stone tablet with one hand and making a solemn gesture with the other, he dered, "I swear to the old and new gods that no matter the future glory or disgrace, I will never do anything to betray my family or my kingdom!"


    For the first time, Aemond met his brother''s gaze firmly, his eyes full of determination.


    Rhaegar smiled and nodded. "Very good!"


    The more he looked at Aemond, the more satisfied he became. Aemond exhaled in relief, his hand covering his racing heart.


    Without giving Aemond a chance to catch his breath, Rhaegar pulled him into a tight embrace, resting his head against his chest. Aemond looked up in bewilderment.


    "Your mother may have raised Aegon wrong, but you, you are still good," Rhaegar said, his eyes filled with relief. He ruffled Aemond''s hair again and gave him a light kiss on the forehead��a blunt disy of Targaryen affection.


    Aemond stood trembling, feeling the warmth of his brother��s touch. After a moment, Rhaegar raised his head. Aemond, regaining his senses, hugged Rhaegar tightly and whispered, "Brother."

 Chapter 311: Layers of Calculations

    Chapter 311: Layers of Calctions


    After a moment of embrace, Aemond reluctantly pulled away, trying to maintain aposed demeanor despite the unfamiliar warmth.


    Rhaegar, noticing but notmenting on Aemond��s hesitation, smiled warmly. "Just call me Rhaegar or brother from now on. No need for formalities."


    The casualness in Rhaegar''s words and the repeated assurance touched Aemond, who blushed and looked away, embarrassed by the sudden informality.


    "Well, I have some matters to attend to. Enjoy your day," Rhaegar said, patting Aemond on the shoulder. He then pulled up his hood and walked away briskly.


    The Dragonkeepers stayed behind to escort Aemond, who turned to call after Rhaegar, wanting to prolong their time together. But Rhaegar was already disappearing around a corner.


    Disappointed, Aemond brushed off his green tunic and rejoined Hena and the others. Led by the Dragonkeepers, they made their way toward the northern exit of the town, heading for Dragonmont.


    As they passed the town''s only low-ss brothel, an unexpected observer took note. Aegon, shirtless and with a curtain wrapped around his waist, stepped out onto the brothel''s third-floor balcony to catch some air.


    Peering down, he spotted Aemond and Hena, escorted by the Dragonkeepers, and scratched his disheveled silver hair in confusion.


    "Heading to Dragonmont? Taming a dragon?" he mused aloud, trying to piece together their ns.


    A cold breeze hit him, making Aegon shiver. He retreated into the room filled with lewd voices, muttering under his breath, "An idiot and a fool."


    ...


    Stone Drum Tower


    Rhaegar returned to the castle and sought out Ser Robert, the Steward of Dragonstone.


    Ser Robert handed him a piece of letter paper with an eager expression. "As you predicted, a raven was sent from King''s Landing and intercepted by me beforehand."


    Rhaegar tore open the envelope and skimmed through the contents. "What has the Queen been up to?" he asked casually.


    Dragonstone is Rhaenyra''s territory, so of course he had a certain amount of power in it.


    Ser Robert replied frankly, "The Queen remains in her chambers most of the time. The maids report she frequently picks at her nails. Conversely, Grand Mellos, confined to the attic, has been asking vaguely if any letters have arrived from King''s Landing."


    "Mellos?" Rhaegar echoed.


    "Yes, Prince," Ser Robert confirmed.


    Rhaegar pondered this, a sneer curling his lips. Mellos seemed to be ying both sides, openly loyal to his father and close to Rhaenyra, while secretly spying for Alicent. Truly, he was the Citadel��s man through and through.


    Reading the contents of the letter, Rhaegar exhaled deeply. As expected, it detailed Borros'' death and Lady Elenda''s pleas for help in investigating the cause. Rhaenys had added her own note, suspecting Borros was poisoned, much like her grandfather, Baelon Targaryen. She also emphasized the need for a Baratheon heir to oversee Storm��s End, subtly hinting at the importance of the proposed marriage alliance.


    Rhaenys'' insight was clear; she recognized the issue of Storm��s End��s session and supported uniting the families through marriage.


    Rhaegar smiled, appreciating his aunt��s loyalty and keen understanding. "Aunt Rhaenys remains devoted to the family and her duties as the Master of Dragons."


    Chaos was not frightening; it could be adder to progress. By leveraging Borros'' death, the family''s control over Westeros could be further solidified.


    Tearing the letter into shreds, Rhaegar instructed, "I''m going to meet my father. Ensure Dragonstone remains well-guarded."


    The news needed to be contained for now, allowing the raven to fly a little longer. Those who had orchestrated foul deeds would be eagerly awaiting their fruits. By dying the news, he could provoke restlessness and expose their hidden motives.


    "Understood, Prince," Ser Robert assured with a confident pat on the back.


    Rhaegar smiled and hurried towards his father''s chambers. He deeply trusted Ser Robert, who was not only loyal but also highly capable, a steadfast ally to both him and Rhaenyra.


    ...


    The King''s Residence


    "Get out! I don''t need any treatment. I''m perfectly healthy!"


    Viserys'' weak but angry cry was apanied by the crash of a wine jug thrown through the open wooden door.


    Alicent stood in the doorway, covering her nose against the stench of wine that filled the room. Since the Small Council''s objection to dragon taming the previous day, her husband''s pride had been wounded, and he had turned to wine to drown his sorrows.


    Ser Orwyle, in his Maester''s robes, kicked aside the bottles that littered the floor as he slowly left the room.


    "How is he?" Alicent asked, her voice tinged with concern.


    Despite their years of marriage, she still worried about her husband''s well-being - it was her only anchor.


    Orwyle hesitated before answering, "The king is in poor health, both emotionally and physically. His wounds are inmed and beginning to fester from neglect and excessive drinking."


    "He still refuses to take his medicine?" Alicent pressed.


    Orwyle nodded helplessly. "The Grand Maester''sments have agitated him greatly. He doesn''t want to see anyone and even threatened to cut off my fingers."


    It was Orwyle''s first day as Grand Maester, and it was not going well.


    "He won''t harm you, I promise," Alicent said, her eyes red-rimmed. "He''s unstable right now. Perhaps some milk of the poppy would calm him?"


    Orwyle frowned and shook his head. "The prince has strictly forbidden giving the king milk of the poppy without his orders. It''s too addictive and clouds his judgment."


    Alicent''s suggestion was swiftly dismissed, and she waved a hand, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I understand. You can go for now."


    "I''ll returnter, hopefully after he''s fallen asleep," Orwyle said before leaving silently.


    Alicent sighed, her gaze drifting to her husband lying in a drunken stupor on the bed. Mellos, the previous Grand Maester, had been a close ally, and without him, easing Viserys'' pain seemed impossible.


    Viserys groaned and rolled over, his shirtless back exposing inmed wounds. Even in his sleep, he muttered for more wine. Alicent closed her eyes in anguish and whispered a prayer. "Blessed be the Seven, don''t let me suffer any longer."


    She left the room, contemting whether she should seek a little poppy milk from Mellos.


    Momentster, Rhaegar entered the room, immediately struck by the sight of his father. "Father!" he called out.


    Viserys was barely recognizable, his face flushed with drink, and a fresh puddle of vomity beside the bed. Rhaegar shook his head and gently lifted his father��s upper body back onto the bed, wiping away the sweat.


    He hade to discuss urgent news from Storm''s End and to strategize against their enemies. However, seeing his father in such a state, he knew it was futile.


    "Oh... Rhaegar..." Viserys mumbled, sprawled on the bed, wounds visible on his back.


    Rhaegar, feeling helpless, cleaned up the vomit and sat on the edge of the bed. He sighed and gentlybed his father''s disheveled hair, which had gotten tangled under the pillow. "Father, you are the king. You must act decisively and not let your personal feelings be swayed by your council''s opinions."


    Viserys grunted in response, but it was unclear if he understood.


    Having said his piece, Rhaegar stood up and left, closing the door quietly behind him. His father had be toopliant, too bound by the decisions of the Small Council.


    ...


    Dusk


    A deep, resonant dragon roar echoed across Dragonstone Ind as an immense, pitch-ck dragon glided past the Stone Drum Tower, heading toward the Gullet. The attendants and guards within the tower looked up, their eyes filled with reverence and envy.


    Half an hour earlier, Prince Rhaegar had received a message from a raven and decided to return to King''s Landing with his dragon. Rumor had it that the prince''s sword had been damaged, and he had invited the top cksmiths of Qohor to recast it. This trip was to retrieve the newly forged de.


    Outside the castle, on the sea-facing cliffs, the light blue Dreamfyre and the golden Sunfyre stood apart, their eyes reflecting mutual hostility.


    Sunfyre roared first, pping his wings provocatively. Dreamfyre snorted, its vertical pupils locked onto the other dragon, moving slowly but deliberately. The two dragons did not sh directly, but the animosity between them was obvious.


    Meanwhile, in the small garden behind the Stone Drum Tower, Aemond and his group, having spent the day wandering around Dragonmont, had returned to the castle and were now rxing.


    Hena and Maris yed in the gazebo, while Aemond and Cassandra walked hand in hand. Heeding Rhaegar''s advice, Aemond tried to embrace the marriage and create some alone time with Cassandra.


    Cassandra, older and more proactive, yed the role of the big sister next door. Their quiet time was soon disrupted by an unwee visitor.


    Aegon, reeking of wine, stumbled back from his visit to the brothel and found Aemond and the others in the garden. His first words annoyed everyone.


    "Hi! A trip to Dragonmont and you didn''t even see a dragon?"


    "Aegon, we were just familiarizing ourselves with the area," Aemond retorted, letting go of Cassandra''s hand. He didn''t want to be taunted for not having dragons, nor did he want Aegon to see him and Cassandra together. Aegon had dismissed the Four Storms as if they were beneath him.


    Aegon shrugged indifferently. "Then you should hurry before Vermithor and Silverwing sleep too much, or you''ll be left to tame some sheep-stealing wild dragon."


    The verbal jab stung, as usual. This time, Aemond couldn''t hold back. "Aegon, I will tame Vermithor. You underestimate me."


    Seeing her brother being bullied, Hena ran out of the gazebo and stood protectively in front of Aemond. With her brother Rhaegar behind her and a Dreamfyre bigger than Sunfyre, she wasn''t afraid of Aegon and his bullying.


    The tension quickly escted, and a small conflict was born.


    ...


    From a balcony of the Stone Drum Tower, Rhaegar watched the scene below with calm eyes, observing the mor of the disorganized group.

 Chapter 312: The Beginning

    Chapter 312: The Beginning


    He climbed onto the dragon back in front of everyone and flew out of Dragonstone Ind.


    At first, he wanted to return to King''s Landing, discover Larrys'' secrets, and cut off his deceitful head with a sword. But he held back. The timing wasn''t right, and killing a son of the Hand of the King would draw unwanted attention. The murder of Borros had just urred, and any connection to it had to be avoided.


    With a thousand thoughts swirling in his mind, Rhaegar sighed softly, "This night is not meant to be peaceful."


    As he gazed at the dusky scenery, the fiery sunset clouds reflected the Targaryen motto, "Fire and Blood." Rhaegar smiled, deciding to ignore the quarrel below. He turned and stepped into the attic.


    "I have already left Dragonstone Ind with the Cannibal, so I can''t show my face again. After a letter from King''s Landing, the heir hurriedly returned to King''s Landing, creating an illusion of a storm, I wonder if Alicent, who is anxiously waiting for news of Borros'' death, is going to jump at my feet in a hurry to ask for forgiveness?"


    ...


    "I''m not drinking this... get it away..."


    In the king''s bedroom, a drunken Viserys shook his head, refusing the milk of the poppy offered to him. Alicent held her husband''s shoulders and urged him, "You need to take your medicine. A little will help you sleep."


    "I don''t need it!" Viserys snapped, flinging his hand and knocking the cup away, spilling the thick, milky liquid all over the carpet.


    Alicent, startled and disheartened, sighed, "I''ll see youter." She left her drunken husband and hurried out of the bedroom, carrying her skirt.


    To ease his pain, Mellos had been consulted, and an impromptu cup of poppy milk was prepared. Once outside the room, Alicent wiped the corners of her eyes and walked quickly back to her bedroom down the same hallway.


    "Queen."


    Inside the bedroom, her personal maid, Terra, greeted her in a low voice. Alicent waved her hand dismissively, "I''m fine, get on with your tasks."


    Sitting down heavily on the chair by the round table, she held her forehead with both hands, rubbing her temples with a headache. She had just received word that Rhaegar had flown to King''s Landing on his green-eyed ck dragon.


    "Damn it, what''s happening now?" Alicent muttered, her mind in turmoil.


    Dragonstone Ind was Rhaenyra''s territory, and Rhaegar had influence there. With Mellos held captive, all externalmunications would be intercepted by Dragonstone��s maester and wouldn''t reach her.


    Wracked with anxiety, Alicent called out, "Terra, bring me paper and a pen. I need to write a letter."


    She wanted to send a letter to King''s Landing, questioning Larys about the sess of his operation.


    "Yes, my queen," Terra nodded and fetched the letter paper and quill from the drawer.


    Knock knock...


    A knock on the door startled Alicent. "Who''s there?" she called out, tensing up.


    After a moment''s pause, Otto''s deep voice answered, "It''s me, Alicent."


    "Father?" Alicent murmured, confused.


    Creak��


    Otto pushed open the door and calmly surveyed the room, his eyes lingering on the pen and paper in Terra''s hand. Without a word, he walked straight to his daughter and sat down across from her, asking casually, "Are you writing a letter?"


    Alicent bowed her head, afraid to answer.


    "Mellos found me. He said you were anxious." Otto exined his visit, not pressing the issue of the letter.


    Once Rhaegar had left, Mellos had been sneaked out by Alicent and had taken the opportunity to find Otto, telling him about the Queen''s concerns over the raven''s messages.


    Alicent''s heart tightened, and she picked at her nails.


    "Alicent, you haven''t been able to lie since you were a child," Otto sighed softly, taking her hands in his. "You have beautiful hands. It''s a shame to see them ruined by your nervous habit."


    Alicent looked down at her hands, ashamed. Her once pristine fingers were now gouged and bloody from her anxious picking.


    Otto struck while the iron was hot, his voice gentle, "Tell your father what trouble you''re in."


    Mellos had taken a risk by finding him, indicating that the issue was serious. Otto felt the need to step in and ensure the well-being of his daughter and their family.


    Ovee with relief, Alicent''s mental defenses crumbled, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Larys has devised an evil n, and I''m involved in it."


    Facing her father, who exuded reliability and strength, Alicent let her guard down and confessed everything in detail.


    For a moment, Otto took a deep breath and nced discreetly at the brown-haired maid standing at the entrance of the room. He whispered, "Is she trustworthy?"


    Alicent, her eyes red and swollen, replied, "Terra has been with me since I was a teenager. We''re like sisters."


    Otto nodded gently, his expression growing serious. "Don''t write any letters. Stay in your room and don''t go anywhere."


    "But Rhaegar..." Alicent began, her voice filled with worry.


    Otto shook his head, his tone firm. "Don''t worry about Rhaegar. You haven''t been exposed yet. Acting rashly will only draw attention to you."


    The cause of Borros'' death remained a mystery, and no one could definitively identify the true culprit. As long as Alicent stayed calm and out of the way, she couldn''t be implicated. Writing to King''s Landing would only increase suspicion.


    As for Larys....


    He''s a schemer with a ck heart. It would be best if the Heir, having discovered his treachery, dealt with him swiftly. That would end the trouble once and for all.


    ...


    As the sun set and night enveloped Dragonstone, the Stone Drum Towery in darkness.


    Inside a bedroom, under the pale moonlight spilling through zed windows, two figuresy entwined on the floor, their heavy breaths mingling in the quiet night.


    Suddenly, a sharp knock interrupted the moment��two light raps followed by one heavy. Footsteps echoed briefly before fading away.


    "Hmph!"


    With a low growl, the activity in the room ceased. Daemon rose from the floor, wiping sweat from his brow and wrapping a shirt around his waist. He walked to the door and found a note slipped underneath.


    Opening the door, he peered into the empty corridor. The messenger was long gone.


    "Prince, who dares disturb us at this hour?" a husky voice called from behind. A woman pressed her warm, soft body against his back.


    Daemon shrugged off her embrace, moving to the window to examine the note. His expression darkened as he read.


    His most trusted informant, White Worm Mysaria, had nted spies everywhere. The message confirmed his suspicions about the new mistress.


    Turning, he gazed at the voluptuous woman standing naked on the floor. Alys Rivers, histest conquest from the Kingswood hunt, met his eyes with a sultry smile.


    "Bad news?" she asked, her tone yful.


    Daemon feigned sorrow, "It''s my brother. His condition has worsened."


    "The disease isn''t terrible; it just needs the right cure," Alys said, sitting at his feet and looking up seductively.


    "You mentioned a secret recipe for eternal youth and healing," Daemon mused, cupping her chin.


    "No one heals better than me," she purred. "The king''s injuries are from a curse. Dragon blood can cure him."


    "Dragon blood is as hot asva. My brother can''t endure it," Daemon replied, testing her.


    Alys seemed unfazed, resting her head on his thigh. "Not the beasts'' blood. Targaryen blood."


    "Targaryen blood?" Daemon''s eyes shed with cold fury. He squeezed her neck roughly.


    "No! That''s not what I meant..." Alys struggled, her face contorted in pain. "You can use a bastard, as long as the bloodline is pure."


    Daemon pushed her away, leaping from the window''s edge. "My brother won''t allow such evil sorcery. Stay away from him, or I''ll have your head."


    He had epted Alys as a mistress for her beauty, but her true nature was now revealed. The so-called cure was nothing more than a blood sacrifice, and Daemon wanted no part of it.


    Not a single word from the forest witch could be trusted.


    ...


    In the dimly lit corridor, a silvery blonde figure quietly slipped out.


    "Strange, there''s no token in father''s room," Aemond muttered, his face crumpled with frustration. He was still seething from Aegon''s taunts earlier that evening.


    With his older brother Rhaegar''s unfortunate departure, Aemond feared there would be no one to help him tame a dragon. Tossing and turning in his bed, unable to sleep, he decided to sneak off to Dragonmont and tame a dragon on his own.


    Scratching his head, Aemond brightened up. "Rhaenyra is the Princess of Dragonstone. The token formanding the Dragonkeepers must be in her hands."


    Dragonstone Ind''s castle, the ck stone gate, and Dragonmont were all patrolled by Dragonkeepers. Without the token, he couldn''t sneak out.


    Determined, Aemond quietly descended the stairs and reached Rhaenyra''s door.


    Knock knock...


    Cautiously, he knocked on the door, hoping she wasn''t in her room. With Rhaegar away from the ind, there was a good chance Rhaenyra would be with her twin adopted daughters, putting them to bed.


    After a few moments of silence, Aemond''s heart leapt with joy. He tiptoed to the door and gently pushed it open.


    Crunch��


    The door creaked slightly as it opened, revealing a room lit by a dozen smoked candles but devoid of any human presence.


    "Perfect!" Aemond cheered softly, quickly rummaging through the room with nimble hands. He searched the bed, the closet, and the dresser.


    Finally, in the first drawer of the dresser, he found the dark iron token. Picking it up, he kissed it in triumph. "Dragonmont, here Ie!"


    Returning the room to its original state, he hurried off. His first stop was the castle entrance, where a group of patrolling Dragonkeepers intercepted him.


    With a smug look, Aemond raised the token and dered, "I have the token. Send two men to escort me to Dragonmont!"


    The ten-man team of Dragonkeepers exchanged puzzled nces. Their captain''s eyes flickered with recognition, and he nodded. "Yes, Prince."


    Just like that, Aemond slipped out of the castle, his heart pounding with excitement and anticipation.

 Chapter 313: The Bronze Fury

    Chapter 313: The Bronze Fury


    On the west side of the Stone Drum Tower, in a dragon-shaped watchtower, metal nging sounds echoed through a secret room, apanied by bursts of blinding sparks.


    The secret room, roughly a dozen square meters, was entirely constructed of ck dragonstone. On one side of the wall stood a forging furnace, its fire burning vigorously. A gray-haired, wiry old cksmith wielded a hammer, forging the glowing red embryo of a longsword.


    Rhaegar leaned against the stone wall near the door, patiently waiting for his new sword to be born.


    Creak...


    The wooden door to the room opened, and Ser Robert hurried inside.


    "Prince, as you expected, there''s unrest in the Stone Drum Tower."


    Without hesitation, Ser Robert reported the developments. Rhaegar listened quietly, his expressionposed.


    Otto had met with Alicent, and Mellos had contacted the Hightower father and daughter. This was anticipated. Under pressure, people seek help.


    There were also unexpected revtions: Daemon had brought a mysterious mistress into the Stone Drum House, keeping her hidden. The little maid trained by Sara had tracked the spider near Alicent to Daemon''s room and overheard the mistress''s identity: the missing forest witch, Alys Rivers.


    "Hmph, I leave for a short while, and the rats start popping out," Rhaegar remarked with a yful smile.


    Ser Robert hesitated before continuing, "Prince, half an hour ago, Prince Aemond slipped out of the castle and hurried towards Dragonmont."


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow, surprised by the boy''s boldness.


    Ser Robert''s expression grew more troubled. "Just now, the king woke up from his stupor, discovered that Aemond had left, and chased after him without even changing his clothes."


    "My father?" Rhaegar was startled. At this time, his father should still be resting.


    "Aemond was rummaging through the king''s bedroom for a pass token. The half-asleep king must have noticed and overheard something about Dragonmont and taming dragons."


    Indeed, Viserys had been lying in a stupor when Aemond slipped in, muttering about Dragonmont and taming dragons. When he sobered up a bit, Viserys realized that his eldest son was gone, and his second son Aegon was even drunker. He decided to find Aemond himself.


    "Prince, the king left a little while ago. Should we send someone to convince him?" Ser Robert asked anxiously.


    After his initial surprise, Rhaegar thought calmly. Aemond was eager to tame a dragon, and with the stone tablet Rhaegar had given him, he was basically safe. It was unlike Viserys to venture out recklessly.


    Rhaegar closed his eyes briefly, murmuring, "If he heard Aemond, he''ll hear me."


    Then, shaking his head with a faint smile, he said, "No need to stop them. Send more men to escort them."


    He suspected his father was using this as a pretext to try taming the dragon himself. As the king, he was a proud man.


    Ser Robert nodded and exited silently.


    Dang!


    The old cksmith swung the final hammer,pleting the forging of the longsword''s embryo. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a rag and uttered a single word in Valyrian, "Quenching."


    A young cksmith picked up the glowing sword embryo with tongs and plunged it into a waiting bucket of water.


    Ssss... White steam billowed up.


    Without ncing at the cooling sword, the old cksmith took out three precious materials he had prepared: a pitch-ck dragon bone as thick as an arm, an octagonal reddish ruby, and a piece of rune-inscribed parchment.


    He polished the dragon bone, creating a slot at the end where he set the ruby. Wrapping them together with the parchment, he threw the bundle into the furnace, chanting under his breath.


    Whoosh!


    The mes roared higher as the old cksmith chanted, wrapping the pitch-ck dragon bone inyers of fire. The parchment melted into liquid, seeping into the slot between the bone and the ruby, merging them into one.


    "ming Red Heart, Fusion Rune..." Rhaegar''s eyes gleamed as he watched the fiery process.


    The ckened dragon bone came from Balerion''s remains, the ruby was a ming Red Heart, and the parchment was derived from Valyria''s legendary sword, Brightroar.


    He called up the system panel.


    [Brightroar]


    Exploration Progress: 100%


    "This exploration isplete, please pick up the lost treasures."


    "Picked up sessfully, you have obtained..."


    [Lion''s Treasure]


    Level: Epic (Purple)


    Trigger Cue: "Blood of a King."


    Scanning the contents of the panel, Rhaegar remainedposed.


    While treating his father''s injuries, he had extracted a few drops of pus and blood from the festering wound to trigger the [Lion''s Treasure].


    The system panel recorded:


    "Congrattions, the Lion''s Treasure has been activated, you have gained..."


    [Fusion Rune]


    Grade: Rare (Blue)


    Function: A disposable item that fuses two items of equal quality, turning decay into magic.


    Evaluation: "Take out your two most precious items possible."


    Buzz...


    Suddenly, the furnace mes intensified, and the ming Red Heart set in the pitch-ck dragon bone glowed brilliantly.


    Rhaegar focused his thoughts, anticipation building. "R��hllor''s legacy treasure, from now on it will also bear the name Targaryen."


    The casting of the sword was nearingpletion. He was ready to bring his creation to life.


    ...


    Dragonmont.


    An active volcano loomed against the night sky.


    "Hurry up, we''re almost there."


    In the barren clearing, Aemond clutched a torch and ran tirelessly, a euphoric smile spreading across his face as he neared Dragonmont.


    Two Dragonkeepers followed closely, each holding a torch.


    Soon, the dimly lit Dragonmont loomed before them, three flickering clusters of firelight marking their approach.


    The mountain was massive, its exterior made of ck volcanic rock, with the surrounding air as hot as a summer day.


    Aemond pushed forward, passing two patrols of Dragonkeepers, both of which were dispatched by his token.


    Climbing the steep rocks, he reached a wide, deep, dark cave at the foot of the mountain.


    As he raised his foot to enter, a team of Dragonkeepers led by an elderly Dragonkeeper hurriedly arrived.


    The old Dragonkeeper, leaning on a bamboo pole, spoke in Valyrian, "Prince, please stop!"


    "Why should I? I have a token!" Aemond retorted, his breathing in gasps, hot sweat seeping from his forehead.


    The Dragonkeeper stepped forward, his cloudy eyes filled with gravity. "At dusk, the Cannibal''s roar disturbed Vermithor, and now it is cranky."


    Vermithor, also known as the Bronze Fury, was a notoriously ill-tempered dragon. The Dragonkeeper couldn''t risk the prince''s life by allowing him to venture inside.


    Aemond wiped away the sweat, his purple eyes scanning the pitch-ck grotto. The longing in his eyes was unmistakable.


    He was tired of being taunted. He would tame one of the strongest and biggest dragons and prove his Dragonlord bloodline to everyone.


    Desire overpowered reason. Shoving aside the Dragonkeepers blocking his path, Aemond roared, "Waking it up will save me the trouble!"


    With that, he rushed into the cavern, clutching his torch, determination driving him forward.


    He was only one tunnel away from Vermithor. There was no way he would give up now and turn back.


    The elderly Dragonkeeper stumbled from the push, looking distraught. "Quickly, catch up! We can''t let the prince tame the dragon alone."


    Even if it meant death, they had to protect the prince.


    The Dragonkeepers helped the elderly man and followed Aemond into the cave.


    But the darkness had already swallowed Aemond. By the time they entered, he had disappeared into the depths, leaving them to follow blindly.


    ...


    On the outskirts of Dragonmont, the barren ins were lit by a moving cluster of firelight.


    Fifty Dragonkeepers, holding torches, escorted their king with urgency.


    "Ho ho..."


    Viserys was exhausted, sweating profusely and panting heavily. Despite the long journey, he hadn''t taken time to change, still wearing a loose silk robe. The running had caused his neckline to gape open, barely covering his body.


    "Faster, we need to get there before Aemond," Viserys gasped, his eyes glowing with determination as he gazed at the towering Dragonmont.


    In his drowsiness, he had heeded his eldest son''s counsel and realized that following the advice of his royal advisers would only lead to losing his grip on power. Aemond''s sneaking into his room provided him with the perfect excuse to act.


    Not only did he want to solidify his rule, but he also yearned to tame a dragon again. Tonight, he hoped he and his third son, Aemond, would soar together.


    ...


    In the underground cave of Dragonmont, Aemond carefully groped his way forward, humming the Valyrian nursery rhyme "Shepherd''s Evening Sun."


    He had learned that the Valyriannguage couldmunicate with dragons, and humming the bad could have a calming effect.


    As he ventured deeper, the temperature of the cave grew hotter, the stone walls burning to the touch.


    "It''s hot!" Aemond wiped away sweat, his freckled face flushed red.


    After what seemed like an eternity, the cavern''s downward slope leveled out. Holding his torch aloft, Aemond saw the stone walls covered in pungent sulfurous ore.


    "Roar..."


    A rough, low roar echoed from the cave''s depths, like a war drum''s beat.


    Excited and surprised, Aemond whispered, "Vermithor!"


    The roar could only belong to Vermithor or Silverwing. Filled with anticipation, Aemond ignored the heat and ran toward the sound.


    "Hurry! I hear Vermithor''s roar..."


    The low voice of a Dragonkeeper rang out from behind as they chased after him.


    Aemond nced back and sneered, "Fools, I''ve already made it in. What''s the point of chasing me now?"


    Feeling closer to Vermithor, Aemond suppressed his excitement and continued humming the song.


    As the cave opened up into a scorching hot crypt, Aemond''s eyes lit up. He leapt over bumpy potholes andnded on a dark tform.


    A rustling sound of scales rubbing against rock came from the tform, revealing a hideous silhouette in the darkness.


    Aemond''s body stiffened, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. He knew it was an adult dragon.


    Gathering his courage, he stared into the darkness and raised one hand high. "Vermithor,e out to meet me!"

 Chapter 314: Behold Your King!

    Chapter 314: Behold Your King!


    ��Roar����


    A low, guttural growl emanated from the depths of the cavern as Aemond''s words left his mouth. His eyes widened, not wanting to miss a single moment.


    The rattling of scales ceased, and a st of searing, sulfur-scented air erupted from above. Aemond''s gaze shot upward, locking onto the source of the airflow. "Vermithor, I''ming!" he shouted.


    The tform rumbled and shook, the crunching sound of sharp ws piercing through rock echoed throughout the cavern. Aemond''s face flushed, and his heartbeat quickened.


    The next second, a thunderous roar filled the cave, and a zing golden Dragonfire erupted like a volcanic explosion. The intense heat and light illuminated the entire underground tform as if it were daylight.


    Aemond cried out in surprise, lifting his cloak to shield himself from the scorching heat wave. The dragon''s mes swept through the cavern, leaving the space awash in golden light.


    Through the mes, a massive dragon''s head emerged from the crypt, roaring skyward. Bronze-colored scales, thick horned crowns, and tyrannical, ferocious vertical pupils red down at Aemond.


    Every terrifying feature underscored that this was an incredibly brutal adult dragon.


    ��Vermithor���� Aemond whispered, stepping back involuntarily. The dragon before him was even more savage and formidable than he had imagined, like a wrathful god.


    The Dragonfire ceased, and Vermithor shook its head, revealing its massive form. Thick, dorsal-scaled neck, broad brown wings, and stone pir-like sharp ws��the dragon''s body was a war machine in itself.


    Aemond swallowed hard, trembling as he stretched out a hand. "Vermithor, let me ride on your back!" he demanded, his gaze never leaving the bronze beast''s eyes.


    ��Roar����


    Vermithor''s throat rumbled, and it let out a low roar. Slowly standing on its hind legs, its broad wings supported its massive frame as it climbed onto the spacious tform.


    For the silver-haired boy beneath it, the dragon didn��t even spare a nce.


    ��Vermithor, look at me!�� Aemond yelled in frustration, rushing towards the dragon and shaking his torch to get its attention.


    Vermithor''s hideous head lowered, its vertical pupils focusing on the insignificant bug blocking its way, bloodthirsty thoughts swirling in its mind.


    ��Vermithor!�� Aemond called out, oblivious to the imminent danger, his eyes locked with the dragon��s brutal gaze.


    ��Roar����


    Vermithor, thoroughly enraged by the audacious boy, cruelly baring its teeth as golden Dragonfire built up in his throat.


    It was in a foul mood, exceedingly so. A few days prior, a wild dragon had disrupted his hibernation at Dragonmont. After finally driving that dragon away, another stench of dragon-eating lingered, adding to his agitation.


    His vertical pupils glinted with menace as he aimed his muzzle at the silver-haired boy, Dragonfire ready to erupt.


    Realizing the imminent danger, Aemond shrieked, "No! No Dragonfire!"


    But Vermithor was beyond reasoning, the mes raging in his mouth, poised to unleash.


    ��No, no, no!�� Aemond backed away in horror, desperately clutching the treasure his brother Rhaegar had given him. In a panic, he pulled out the stone tablet from his robes, holding it high, and shouted with all his might in Valyrian, ��Obey!��


    Just then, the Dragonkeepers arrived at the grotto��s entrance, witnessing the perilous scene with horror.


    Vermithor, understanding the Valyrianmand, gazed at the bloodstained runes on the stone que. The dragon��s rage subsided slightly, regaining a trace of sanity. However, the Dragonfire, once ignited, could not be stopped.


    Under Aemond��s terrified gaze, the golden Dragonfire erupted.


    ��Roar!!!��


    At thest moment, Vermithor flung his head, redirecting the mes towards the cave entrance. The torrent of fire surged forth, instantly consuming the Dragonkeepers in a ze, leaving only charred remains.


    Boom��


    Vermithor roared in anger, pping his massive wings and moving swiftly. He sensed the foul stench of Cannibal near Dragonmont. This was his territory, and he needed to assert his dominance.


    ��No! Vermithor, don��t leave!��


    As the Bronze Fury climbed out of the cave, Aemond, unwilling to give up, grabbed the thick, long dragon tail in desperation. Clinging to the finely scaled tail with both hands, he was dragged out of the cavern by the rampaging Vermithor.


    In an instant, they disappeared into the darkness.


    ...


    Watchtower, Underground Chamber


    Rhaegar stood in the dimly lit chamber, his eyes lowered, lost in thought.


    Three years ago, heated arguments with his father over the division of power had driven him to Harrenhal in anger. Harrenhal, desperately needing manpower, had led him to transfer half of King''s Landing''s men, leaving only the 800 Dragonkeepers in the Dragonpit and Syrio''s intelligence scouts.


    With Syrio now in Vntis, his forces in King''s Landing were dangerously depleted and needed immediate reinforcement.


    "Storm��s End, Mellos, Larys��" He silently repeated the names, his eyes shing with resolve.


    The sound of metal striking metal interrupted his thoughts.


    He turned to see the old cksmith pulling a pitch-ck dragon bone from the furnace, fitting it onto a sword de. The cksmith��s skill was undeniable, and with a few precise hammer blows, the longsword was wlessly assembled.


    "My lord, your sword!" The old cksmith held the newly forged Valyrian steel sword with reverence, presenting it to Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar stood, taking the longsword to examine it closely. It was unlike any Valyrian steel sword he had ever seen. The de was pitch ck with subtle silver ripples, resembling a night sky dotted with stars. As if crafted from meteorite iron, the de gleamed darkly, mimicking ckfyre.


    Two hideous dragon heads, reminiscent of a Cannibal, were carved on either side, adorned with four tiny emeralds.


    The hilt was made from the leg bone of Balerion,cquered ck, and polished to prevent slippage. At its end, an octagonal ruby, the ming Red Heart, was setrge as a baby��s fist.


    The sword''s overall appearance was simr to House Targaryen''s ancestral sword, ckfyre, both featuring dragon head designs and ruby iys. However, ckfyre''s de was wider, its hilt shorter, and its ruby had been reced with a hexagram symbolizing the Faith of the Seven. In contrast, the new sword''s de was narrower and its appearance uniquely dark.


    Rhaegar flicked the de, which responded with a clear, resonant hum, the ripples shimmering like running water. "Good sword!" heplimented, gripping the hilt. The frosted roughness felt warm and solid in his hand.


    Reflecting on the Dragon w taken by that wild dragon, he caressed the sword and mused, "The Targaryen House already has kingship, guardianship, and bravery, but itcks a sword to kill and destroy."


    The old cksmith interjected, "My lord, please name the sword."


    Rhaegar smiled, having already chosen a name. ncing at the roaring furnace, his violet eyes reflecting the mes, he murmured, "Blood and firee from the same source; it will be called Truefyre."


    "My lord, I prepared a bowl of snake lizard blood for the sword''s christening," the cksmith said, gesturing to the young apprentice who brought a small basin of thick green blood.


    Rhaegar shook his head, "No need, there is no shortage of blood and fire tonight." He raised the sword, and Truefyre cut a half moon through the air.


    H��


    The ming Red Heart at the hilt''s end glowed, igniting the pitch-ck de with flickering mes. Truefyre, now imbued with Rhaegar''s magic, connected with the power in his blood.


    Creak��


    Pushing open the wooden door, Rhaegar stepped out, sword in hand. Outside, the night sky was shrouded in dark clouds, hiding the moon. It was a perfect night for killing.


    ...


    Dragonmont


    "Quickly, go inside! This is Vermithor��s cave!"


    Viserys, drenched in sweat and panting heavily, arrived at the mouth of the deep grotto. His voice, hoarse from exertion,manded the Dragonkeepers to explore the cave.


    His body was failing him. After running for a bell, dizziness clouded his vision, and his lungs felt ready to burst. Each step brought searing pain, his white silk robe soaked with blood from numerous cuts. The salty sweat stung his wounds, making each movement agony.


    The Dragonkeepers, carrying torches, ventured into the grotto. Viserys copsed to the ground, gulping air to soothe his parched throat.


    "Roar!!!"


    A thunderous dragon roar echoed from the cave, followed by the Dragonkeepers'' horrified screams.


    "Oh no," Viserys muttered, forcing himself to stand. The Dragonkeepers rallied around him, forming a protective circle. There were forty-seven of them, their torches a zing circle of light.


    Rumble...


    The sound of something immense crashing through the cave filled the air. Viserys, summoning the courage of a king,manded, "Stand back, it��s a dragon inside!"


    "Roar..."


    A massive, hideous dragon head, the size of a house, emerged from the grotto, followed by its neck, wings, and torso. Bronze scales, like dark gold, shimmered under the night sky.


    Viserys'' eyes widened, and he gasped, "Vermithor!"


    This was his grandfather, King Jaehaerys I��s dragon, the mighty beast that had once secured great victories for House Targaryen. In the firelight, the dragon''s scales bore scars from battles past, evidence of its ferocity and survival.


    Vermithor climbed out of the grotto, towering arrogantly above the gathered crowd. Its eyes swept over them, indifferent to the fear they inspired. Only the silver-gold haired Viserys caught its attention.


    In a heartbeat, Viserys raised a trembling hand and shouted with all his might, "Vermithor, behold your king!"

 Chapter 315: Taming the Dragon

    Chapter 315: Taming the Dragon


    Viserys'' voice was hoarse and weak, yet it carried an unyielding determination.


    "Roar ..."


    Vermithor''s icy, vertical pupils locked onto the Targaryen who dared tomand him.


    Viserys inhaled sharply, meeting the dragon''s gaze head-on, his heart pounding violently in his chest.


    Vermithor''s eyes shed with anger, and his massive head moved closer, radiating searing heat.


    "Everyone, back off! Don''t get caught in the wave!" Viserys shouted urgently.


    The dragon''s head continued to approach, and the heat wave forced the Dragonkeepers back, scattering them like leaves. The sheer power of Vermithor, with just a slight toss of his head, sent more than a dozen Dragonkeepers flying, their bodies crashing to the ground in a lifeless heap.


    Seeing his guards fall, Viserys'' anxiety turned to rage. He shouted again, "Vermithor, obey!"


    As he spoke, his blood surged with heat, flowing into his raised palm. He had barely mastered the "Forbidden Magic Spell," enough to tap into the small reservoir of magic within his blood.


    Buzz...


    Magic power coursed through his hand, turning his palm crimson and forming a dragon-shaped imprint.


    Vermithor''s head breached the final line of defense, stopping just a few meters from Viserys. Man and dragon locked eyes, the dragon-shaped imprint reflecting in Vermithor''s icy pupils.


    Vermithor''s furious advance halted, his eyes shing with a touch of doubt amidst the fury.


    This strange sensation, both familiar and unfamiliar, made the dragon pause.


    Seizing the moment, Viserys spoke through gritted teeth, "Vermithor, where is my child?"


    His eyes darted between the dragon and the grotto, but there was no sign of his third son, Aemond.


    Vermithor cocked his head slightly, the doubt in his pupils deepening.


    Dragons were intelligent, butmunication with humans was difficult. Vermithor didn''t understand the Targaryen''s question.


    Zira!


    Viserys'' face turned pale as his magic power waned, the dragon seal flickering out.


    In an instant, Vermithor''s anger surged back. His dragon''s maw opened wide, and he let out a deafening roar, his fury unrestrained.


    "Roar!!"


    Vermithor''s roar echoed through the night, shaking the very ground beneath them.


    Viserys faced the dragon''s gaping maw as a scorching, acrid wind sted him, causing him to stagger and nearly fall. His long silver hair whipped wildly around him.


    With a crunch, the buttons on his silk robe snapped apart, and he was blown backward by the force of the gust, iling like a kite with broken strings.


    In that critical moment, Viserys'' mind went nk, his survival instincts overpowering his fear and hesitation.


    Raising his palms high, he summoned thest of his magical energy, closed his eyes, and roared, "Vermithor, obey!"


    He didn''t know why he shouted it, but it was what he feltpelled to say to assert control over the dragon.


    The dragon seal reappeared, its powermanding Vermithor''s attention.


    Vermithor paused, his roar echoing like a cold-blooded butcher''s call.


    Viserys, overwhelmed and exhausted, copsed, supported by the Dragonkeepers who rushed to his aid. He struggled to stay conscious.


    For a long time, the cavern fell silent.


    Viserys, dizzy and weak, slowly opened his eyes.


    A pair of cold vertical pupils met his gaze, and a bronze-scaled beast with a long neck loomed before him.


    Vermithory on his haunches, his wings supporting him as he climbed the rocky terrain. His pupils scrutinized Viserys intently.


    The dragon mistook him for another would-be tamer, like the silver-haired boy, Aemond.


    Viserys panted heavily, his eyes locking onto the dragon with a mix of fear and determination. "Vermithor, submit to your king!"


    His original mission on Dragonstone was to tame a dragon. Facing Vermithor''s fury, he had no choice but to follow through.


    "Roar ..."


    Vermithor growled low, his body inching closer, his head aimed directly at Viserys.


    The dragon sensed an inexplicable pull from the man before him.


    In the depths of Vermithor''s eyes, a memory surfaced��a reflection of a long-bearded old man with silver-gold hair. The old man''s face was noble, even in old age, and he carried a heroic aura.


    This was King Jaehaerys I, Vermithor''s first and only master.


    Jaehaerys'' sister, Rhaena, had ced a dragon egg in his cradle. The dragon that hatched from the egg was Vermithor. They had been together for 69 years, facing countless trials and tribtions.


    "Roar!"


    Recalling his long-gone rider, Vermithor''s rage surged. He raised his head and roared, golden Dragonfire slicing through the dark night.


    When he lowered his head again, his eyes were filled with scrutiny and disdain for Viserys.


    "Vermithor," Viserys called out, waving away the Dragonkeepers. He stood alone, his knees weak but unyielding.


    Whew-


    Vermithor leaned forward, snorting heavily.


    Viserys ducked to avoid the heat, and the dragon''s head nudged him, forcing him to stumble back several steps.


    Amusement flickered in Vermithor''s eyes as he stepped forward, golden Dragonfire glowing in his maw.


    The dragon seemed to be giving him a chance, a test of worthiness.


    A dragon chooses its rider.


    Vermithor had sensed the difference between Aemond and Viserys. Aemond had looked at him with lust for power, a weak man''s desperate desire to be strong.


    But Vermithor was inherently strong and unwilling to lend his power to fulfill a weakling''s insignificant wish.


    Vermithor''s throat rumbled with a low, threatening growl, its vertical pupils fixed coldly on Viserys. Despite feeling the kingly grace and dominance radiating from Viserys, it was but a fraction of what its previous master hadmanded. Still, the strength and authority were enough to warrant a test.


    Viserys halted in his tracks, his heart racing as he saw dragonfire building in the creature''s maw. He knew from his training never to show fear in the face of a dragon. Steeling himself, he raised his chin and locked eyes with Vermithor, determined to appear fearless.


    Time dragged on. Viserys, drenched in sweat and trembling, maintained his gaze. His pupils reflected the bronze dragon, unwavering despite the mounting pressure.


    Finally, Vermithor extinguished the dragonfire and settled down, its eyes shifting from the image of its former rider, Jaehaerys, to the shadow of Viserys. The dragon''s growl softened, and it flicked its head in annoyance, raising a cloud of dust.


    "Vermithor, fly me in a circle," Viserysmanded, moving closer with determination. He saw the dragon��s hesitation as an opportunity. If Vermithor hadn��t attacked or fled, it meant there was a chance to mount.


    Ignoring the dragon��s agitation, Viserys ced his hand on its scales and began to climb. Two loyal Dragonkeepers rushed forward to assist, but Viserys snapped, "Stand down! I don��t need help climbing my own dragon."


    The reprimand spurred him on, and with newfound strength, he scrambled up Vermithor''s back. The dragon roared andunched into the air, its powerful wings pping as it ascended rapidly.


    Viserys nearly slipped, clutching desperately at the dragon''s scales. With no saddle or ropes, he stretched his limbs and gripped the scales tightly, trying to stabilize himself. He wedged his feet into small gaps between the thick scales, finding some semnce of bnce.


    Boom! Vermithor, not content with a simple flight, spewed golden dragonfire and dove sharply. Viserys, engulfed by the mes, let out a primal scream.


    The searing heat scorched his skin, igniting his hair and beard, burning holes in his clothing. Yet, as a Targaryen, he was born with a resistance to fire. The fire was intense, but not as deadly as Cannibal''s smoldering breath.


    As they soared through the mes, Viserys'' skin blistered, and his whiskers burned away. But he clung on, protected partially by Vermithor''s massive head and back scales. Below, Dragonkeepers watched in horror, their king taken by the dragon.


    "You, go back to the castle and report this! The rest of you, follow me!" themander shouted, directing his men to chase after Vermithor and Viserys.


    In moments, the clearing emptied. Birds scattered, and the deep grotto fell back into a deathly silence.


    Suddenly, fragmented footsteps echoed through the grotto, apanied by the sound of panting and grunting. Utilizing the torches abandoned by the Dragonkeepers, a disheveled Aemond emerged, clutching the stone wall for support.


    Gone was theposed young man who had first entered. His clothes were tattered, his pants torn, and his elbows and knees were scraped raw, revealing bloody abrasions. The only intact piece of clothing was a green cloak, now riddled with holes.


    Enduring the pain, Aemond stumbled out of the grotto and surveyed the chaotic scene with a sinking heart. He looked up to see a majestic dragon silhouetted against the night sky, spewing golden dragonfire.


    "Vermithor!" he cried, his voice thick with sobs. The dragon he had pinned his hopes on, the dragon meant to change his fate, was now out of reach.


    "Bastard! I won��t give in!" Aemond shouted defiantly. Wiping away his tears, he turned and sprinted back into the grotto, determined to find another dragon. He remembered that Dragonmont housed more than one dragon. Without Vermithor, there was still its mate, Silverwing.


    As he turned, the night cast a massive shadow over the grotto. Oblivious, Aemond ran with his head down.


    "Roar..." A piercing dragon roar echoed, and the shadow descended swiftly, pouncing on the silver-haired boy in front of the deep grotto.


    Caught in a strong gust of wind, Aemond looked back in shock, his eyes wide with terror.


    "Don''t!..." he screamed, his voice trailing off into the darkness.

 Chapter 316: Murderous Cannibal Dragon

    Chapter 316: Murderous Cannibal Dragon


    Stone Drum Tower


    The castle gates were tightly closed, and armor-d Dragonkeepers patrolled the perimeter.


    Top Floor of the Attic


    The dim corridor was silent, with candles hanging one meter apart, casting a faint glow.


    A sharp de shed through the silence, and a stream of blood sprayed the dark roof like a fountain.


    "Prince, you can''t do this..." Grand Maester Mellos cried out, his body paralyzed on the ck stone floor, shakily trying to move.


    In front of him, Rhaegar, dressed in ck robes, wore a grim expression as he casually flicked his blood-sttered sword. The corridor was littered with the corpses of maesters.


    Farther down, in front of the king''s bedroom door,y a plump woman in a green dress, her ck hair soaked in blood, her severed head lying grotesquely nearby. It was the ill-intentioned Alys Rivers.


    This vicious woman, despised by Daemon, had sneaked out to steal the dragon eggs of Ba and Rhaena. Fortunately, Rhaenyra had been with her adopted daughters, thwarting Alys''s n. When Rhaegar entered the Stone Drum Tower, he found Alys trying to flee empty-handed and swiftly decapitated her.


    Before she died, she imed she could cure the king''s curse with the sacrifice of a dragon seed. Rhaegar dismissed her words entirely, knowing Bracken had recently died in a blood sacrifice.


    Rhaegar exhaled, "Grand Maester, your student is quite foolish."


    He stepped on Mellos'' robe, his eyes fixed on the maester''s hand hidden in his sleeve.


    Having just killed Alys Rivers, Mellos had emerged from the next room with several young maesters in tow. Mellos shook his head repeatedly, his voice trembling with fear, "Prince, it was the Queen who instructed me to use the Milk of the Poppy. You cannot be reckless."


    "Not reckless at all. I''ve long wanted to kill you," Rhaegar replied lightly.


    With those words, he swung Truefyre, beheading the old maester. The head rolled to the ground, its eyes filled with disbelief.


    "With Father absent and you falling into my hands, it would be a shame not to kill you."


    Rhaegar grinned, picking up the crumpled letter clutched in the headless corpse''s hand.


    Dangang!


    The tip of the Truefyre Sword struck the ck stone floor with a resounding ng as Rhaegar ttened the letter paper, reading it silently word by word.


    The note did not contain the expected phrases from a man suspected of deliberately worsening his father''s injuries. Instead, its contents were chilling.


    "The King wants to tame a dragon ... Targaryen Revival ... World Without Magic ..."


    The lines, written in small, precise script, rmed Rhaegar more with each word he read. The note detailed the father''s thoughts on dragon taming, expressing a strong resistance to and unease with the practice among the Targaryens.


    At the end, there was a reference to the Citadel''s pursuit of truth and the belief that magic did not exist.


    Rhaegar''s eyes darkened as he nced at the headless corpse, spitting, "You didn''t die unjustly."


    It was well known that the Targaryens had always been at odds with the Seven Gods'' beliefs and the philosophy of the Citadel. However, Rhaegar had not expected the Grand Maester to harbor such severe prejudices.


    The Conqueror had relied on three dragons to conquer the Seven Kingdoms. Without dragons, was a Targaryen truly a Targaryen?


    "Alys Rivers! Get out here!"


    A rush of footsteps followed, apanied by Daemon''s exasperated growl.


    Rhaegar turned to see Daemon, wearing only a white lining, huffing and puffing, his silver hair disheveled, a clear sign of his anger.


    Many within the Stone Drum Tower were startled. Rhaenyra, her face worried, came quickly, holding her adopted daughter''s hand.


    Aegon, Hena, Lyonel...


    Even the timid Alicent emerged, apanied by her father, Otto.


    "Alys Rivers, you bitch!" Daemon''s eyes were fierce as he muttered invectives under his breath.


    Rhaegar nced at him and said calmly, "Stop yelling; they''ve been gone for a while."


    Daemon''s gazended on the headless corpse, his anger gradually subsiding. He had wanted to leave Dragonstone before dealing with this traitor. Instead, she had escaped while he was sleeping.


    Rhaenyra, surprised by the scene, asked, "Rhaegar, didn''t you go back to King''s Landing?"


    "I''m back again," Rhaegar shrugged, turning to look at Alicent, who had just stepped outside. He wanted to see how this so-called Queen handled herself in such situations.


    Alicent appeared apprehensive, biting her lower lip.


    Otto stepped forward, shielding his daughter. "Prince, you killed the Grand Maester," he said solemnly.


    "Didn''t you see it when you were hiding behind the door?" Rhaegar replied ndly, holding the Truefyre sword thrust into the floor. He hade for Mellos and Alys Rivers and had aplished his purpose.


    Lyonel and the others arrived shortly after, shocked by the scene in the corridor.


    Rhaegar handed Lyonel the note left by Mellos. The note,bined with the Grand Maester''s previousck of dedication to treatment, was enough to convict Mellos of treason.


    "Roar!"


    A dragon''s roar, as fierce as a war drum, echoed through the night and reverberated within the castle walls.


    A sh of realization struck Rhaegar, and he quickly ran out of the corridor, rushing to an open-air balcony.


    Under the night sky, dark clouds shrouded the moon, hiding the stars. In the direction of the towering Dragonmont, a massive dragon soared into the sky, spewing brilliant golden Dragonfire.


    "Roar!"


    The giant dragon hovered in the night sky, its violent roars unceasing, and the dark sky frequently lit up with dazzling fire.


    As Rhaegar moved, the rest of the group followed, looking out at the rioting dragon together.


    Rhaenyra''s almond eyes widened, and she covered her small mouth, "Vermithor! Who is it?"


    The massive dragon could only be Vermithor, but it was unclear who was attempting to tame it.


    Rhaegar''s expression was grave, "Father, or Aemond."


    Soaring into the sky with a dragon marked the nearpletion of a sessful taming, a crucial part of bonding with a masterless dragon. There were no weak cowards on the back of any adult dragon.


    "Roar!"


    In full view of everyone, Vermithor, far from Dragonmont, suddenly stormed out, spewing Dragonfire chaotically, drawing closer to the castle.


    The castle, built on a rock wall near the sea, was not far from Dragonmont. At Vermithor''s speed, it would take only a few minutes to shower the crowd with golden Dragonfire.


    "Roar!"


    "Roar..."


    Sensing the approach of the furious adult dragon, the dragons resting around the castle were startled, shrieking and pping their wings to rise into the air.


    First, Syrax spread its wings in the back garden, followed by Dreamfyre and Sunfyre, resting on the cliffside, and finally Tessarion, curled up on the beach. Four dragons in all, they flew over the castle, roaring restlessly at each other, a sh imminent.


    "Oh no, Vermithor has triggered a dragon riot!" Rhaenyra eximed, trying tomunicate with Syrax.


    But all four dragons were on high alert, miles away, asionally ncing at the frenzied Vermithor in the night sky.


    Rhaegar frowned slightly, sensing the location of the Cannibal. The Cannibal hadn''t left Dragonstone Ind and was wandering around the east coast. He suspected that Vermithor''s riot was somehow connected to the Cannibal, given their long-standing grudge.


    The chaossted for a few moments before a massive silhouette crossed the night sky.


    "Roar..."


    Under the cover of darkness, the Cannibal appeared silently over the castle, letting out a muffled, thunderous roar. It sensed the provocation of its old rival and returned at top speed.


    "Cannibal,e here!" Rhaegar shouted from the balcony, his voice carrying over the tumult.


    The rioting dragons had to be dispersed quickly, or disaster might strike.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal let out a low roar, its green vertical pupils searching for its rider as it closed its wings andnded.


    The stone drum tower wasrge, and the spacious back garden provided just enough room for the pitch-ck dragon to temporarilynd.


    "Communicate with your dragons as best you can. Don''t go out and run around," Rhaegar instructed, then, without looking back, leapt forward andnded on the Cannibal''s spine.


    Plop��


    When the Cannibal stretched its neck, it aligned perfectly with the height of the stone drum tower, allowing Rhaegar to easily leap onto the dragon''s back.


    Without bothering to sit in the saddle, Rhaegar urgently shouted, "Cannibal, let''s go!"


    "Roar!"


    With a thunderous roar, the Cannibal pped its pitch-ck wings and soared into the air, unleashing a stream of ethereal green Dragonfire towards the four dragons.


    "Roar..."


    The four dragons, already on high alert due to the Cannibal''s presence, scattered in all directions as the ghostly green dragonfire erupted.


    Sunfyre and Tessarion fled the fastest, driven by fear. One had already been punished by the Cannibal, and the other was too small to pose a real threat.


    Dreamfyre, the oldest and nearly two-thirds the Cannibal''s size, roared defiantly.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal turned its head in indignation, spitting dragonfire directly at Dreamfyre and revealing its sharp hind ws, ready to pounce.


    "Cannibal, ignore it!" Rhaegarmanded calmly. Now was not the time for fighting.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre, caught off guard by the sudden onught, pped its light blue wings in panic. A familiar putrid odor triggered its memories.


    In its youth, there had been only two young dragons on Dragonstone Ind: Dreamfyre and Quicksilver. The arrival of the Cannibal had shattered their peace.


    Dreamfyre had been hunted by the Cannibal a dozen times, each encounter ending with a narrow escape and weeks of recovery in Dragonmont.


    "Roar..."


    Recollecting these memories, Dreamfyre shrieked and fled, abandoning its defiance midway through the Cannibal''s charge, rolling awkwardly in its haste to escape.


    "Roar..."


    ring at the retreating Dreamfyre, the Cannibal let out a frustrated low roar, its green vertical pupils filled with annoyance.


    It hadn''t had a proper meal in a while, and if this continued, it might have to hunt that ugly spiky dragon for food.


    "Don''t be too hasty, Cannibal."


    Rhaegar''s eyes flickered as he spoke soothingly, "Let''s deal with Vermithor first. We still have two pieces of sea monster meat left fromst time."


    Having spent years together, Rhaegar and the Cannibal shared a deep bond. Now, he knew the Cannibal''s predation on young dragons was not about controlling their numbers but purely for the taste of dragon meat.


    A murderous cannibal dragon through and through.

 Chapter 317: The King Under the Moonlight

    Chapter 317: The King Under the Moonlight


    In the dusky night sky, Vermithor sped wildly, spewing Dragonfire erratically, clearly in a state of rage.


    "Cannibal, let''s lure it away," Rhaegarmanded.


    He couldn''t tell whether it was his father or Aemond riding Vermithor, nor when they might gain control over the giant dragon. The priority was to ensure the castle remained unharmed.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared, pping its wide, pitch-ck wings, and rushed towards Vermithor, who seemed to be waiting for a confrontation.


    As the ck dragon left the castle, the other dragons calmed slightly. Dreamfyre hid on the stone bridge''s long steps, Syrax stationed itself atop a cliff, and Sunfyre and Tessarion fled, not daring to look back.


    The Cannibal flew swiftly, weaving through dark clouds, closing in on Vermithor. Rhaegar, leaning down on the dragon''s back, finally saw the silhouette on Vermithor.


    "Vermithor, adjust your flight trajectory!"


    Viserysy on Vermithor, calling desperately for the dragon to obey. His long silver-gold hair, burnt ends trimmed, and thick beard contrasted with his bare upper body, revealing a fresh cut. Despite his injuries, he persisted in taming the raging beast.


    "Father, grab the scales on the dragon''s back!" his eldest son shouted from a distance.


    Viserys looked up in disbelief, but instinctively wrapped his arms around the dragon''s spine. He knew he had caused quite amotion, but he hadn''t expected his eldest son to still be on the ind.


    Suddenly there was a ferocious roar as the Cannibal emerged from the clouds with its ghostly green dragonfire and locked on to Vermithor with vertical pupils.


    Boom!


    The dark green dragonfire struck Vermithor''s head, causing the dragon to scream and fall uncontrobly.


    "Vermithor, hold on!"


    Viserys, sweating profusely, took the opportunity to give orders. The dragon responded, stabilizing as the dragon-taming ceremony reached its climax.


    "Roar..."


    The attack swiftly passed, and Vermithor''s crimson vertical pupils adjusted as it bnced itself for a counterattack. Despitecking dragon-fighting experience, Vermithor had plenty of war experience.


    It had fought alongside King Jaehaerysin the Dornish Bordend War, the Shipbreaker Bay War, and the Great Wall''s defense against the wildlings, disying an impressive adaptability.


    Watching Vermithor fly, Cannibal remained indifferent, pping its wings into the thick dark clouds.


    Before disappearing, Rhaegar shouted, "Father, try to control your dragon! Don''t let it stay so mad!"


    The fact that his father could ride Vermithor meant the dragon recognized him. However, Vermithor''s berserk state was hindering the dragon taming process, and it needed to be brought back on track.


    "Roar..."


    Vermithor responded with a roar, chasing after the Cannibal with relentless fury. The dragonshed out unpredictably, like a berserker denouncing the injustice of fate.


    Viserys clung tightly to Vermithor''s back scales, his gaunt face filled with worry. He understood his son''s strategy to use the dragons'' feud to tame Vermithor. It was dangerous and could easily escte into a deadly fight, causing innocent casualties. But there was no better option.


    If Vermithor stayed mad much longer, Viserys wasn''t sure how long his frail body could endure.


    Suddenly, Vermithor dove headfirst into the clouds, tilting its head back to st golden Dragonfire. Passing through the moistureden clouds, Viserys shivered, his depleted spirit instantly refreshed.


    Looking up, the bright moon illuminated the sky, guiding the way like a beacon. The world was foggy, thick dark clouds splitting the night sky in two. Moonlight spilled generously onto his face.


    "The Seven Gods above! How can it be so beautiful," Viserys murmured, momentarily lost in thought. Any past beauty he''d seen paled inparison to this moment.


    "Roar..."


    Unlike its mesmerized rider, Vermithor continued its frantic search, its icy vertical pupils scanning for its opponent.


    Rumble��


    Dark clouds tumbled and surged as a sh of ghostly green light appeared below Vermithor.


    Despite its frenzy, Vermithor''s war-honed instincts detected danger.


    "Roar��"


    With a thunderous roar, the Cannibal burst out of the dark clouds, its maw wide open, spewing ghostly green Dragonfire.


    "Roar!!!"


    Having been bested once before, Vermithor reacted swiftly,unching a counterattack at the green mes.


    Boom!


    The two adult dragons'' roars echoed as their Dragonfire collided, erupting into a monstrous wave of heat. Under the bright moon, the bronze Vermithor and the ck Cannibal faced off, neither retreating.


    Vermithor''s pupils narrowed with fury, spewing golden mes to suppress the fire from above. Cannibal, head held high and wings sweeping through the dark clouds, stared down its prey with evil green eyes.


    The two dragons, one above the other, unleashed surging mes, creating a spectacr night sky.


    "Roar��"


    The stalemate was quickly broken as the Cannibal''s strength overwhelmed the golden Dragonfire. Comparing speed, perhaps only Red Queen Meleys could rival it. In terms of Dragonfire strength, this wild king had no equal.


    As Vermithor''s mes weakened, its advantage was reversed. The Cannibal roared, its Dragonfire targeting the vulnerable scales of Vermithor''s abdomen, climbing towards the more deadly jaw.


    "Roar..."


    Forced to close its mouth, Vermithor screamed in agony, pping its wings to disengage from the encounter. Its crimson vertical pupils gradually faded. Vermithor''s jaw, once covered in bronze scales, was now scorched ck, with many scales cracked and dry.


    Viserysy on the dragon''s back, a sh of excitement lighting up his pale face. He sensed a weak connection forming between them, feeling Vermithor''s anger abate and sanity slowly return.


    "Vermithor, hold your bnce! The enemy hasn''t flown far yet!"


    With eyes glowing with anticipation, Viserys sat up from the dragon''s back, hands clenching its scales as he scanned the surroundings. He knew how to seize the moment, even if he wasn''t adept at attacking.


    Confused but obedient, Vermithor responded to his rider''smands, pulling away from the fight. Rhaegar observed the scene, halting the Cannibal''s attack and ascending higher into the sky.


    For a moment, the situation was reversed.


    Cannibal pped its wide wings, casting a ghastly shadow against the bright moonlight. Rhaegar, dressed in ck robes, stood atop the dragon''s back, looking down on the man and dragon below.


    Vermithor managed to regain its bnce, swooping down against the clouds.


    "There will be other opportunities to kill a dragon," Rhaegar murmured, continuing to soothe Cannibal.


    With the advantage of altitude, the Cannibal had an 80% chance of tearing into Vermithor''s neck with a single bite, hunting down the impulsive Bronze Fury.


    Patting the dragon''s back, Rhaegar instructed, "Cannibal, let''s go below."


    The battle was already clear; there was no need to dwell on it. Vermithor was a powerful dragon, not only ferocious but also growing faster than other dragons of the same age. Even the Cannibal, with its enhanced size from Life Essence, was only one-fifth bigger than Vermithor.


    Six years apart, the two dragons had fought twice, both times ending in Vermithor''s defeat. The Cannibal''s wild dragon experience and Rhaegar''s highpatibility with it gave them the upper hand. In contrast, Vermithor''s temperament and rider were a disadvantage.


    Vermithor seemed to suffer from a birth defect, possibly inherited from its mother''s Vhagar bloodline, making it emotionally unstable and prone to berserk states. If this w could be ovee and paired with a suitable rider, Vermithor''s potential would be immense.


    "Roar--"


    Annoyed at being reduced to a mere bait, the Cannibal reluctantly descended and hid in the clouds. Aside from the dim-witted old dragon, he seldom felt as threatened as he did tonight.


    With one man and one dragon gone, Vermithor flew high into the sky, alertly searching for its enemy. Two heavy blows to its head had restored its senses.


    "Vermithor, left rear!" Viserys suddenly shouted.


    "Roar!!!"


    Vermithor instinctively followed themand, releasing a burst of Dragonfire.


    Boom��


    A ghostly green Dragonfire shot up from below, intercepted by the golden Dragonfire. Dark clouds rolled, obscuring the Cannibal''s presence and scent.


    Vermithor''s vertical pupils were cold as it scanned the dark clouds below, soaring higher into the moonlight.


    Rumble��


    The dark clouds churned, ghostly green fire flickering in three directions, then disappearing into the gloom. Viserys pointed out the Dragonfire��s origin one by one, seizing the moment tomand Vermithor.


    He understood his eldest son''s strategy: use the chaos to help tame Vermithor while the dragon regained his senses.


    After a while, the dark clouds calmed and calm returned.


    "Roar..."


    Vermithor pped its wide bronze wings and let out a low, reluctant roar. It sensed that the Cannibal had fled.


    "Vermithor, don''t give chase. We all need rest now."


    Exhausted and drenched in sweat, Viserys copsed onto the dragon''s back, putting any thought of pursuit to rest. The harrowing ordeal had drained him, leaving the bruised king unwilling to move a muscle.


    "Roar..."


    Vermithor shook its head in irritation butplied, hovering obediently in mid-air.


    "Oh, I feel your frustration."


    Viserysughed bitterly,municating with Vermithor while gazing at the bright moon.


    As his eyes grew hazy, an old man''s silhouette seemed to appear on the moon.


    "Grandfather," Viserys whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I inherited the Iron Throne from you, but I��ve been anxious and restless, unable to adapt."


    The Iron Throne, a chair of swords, only hurt him.


    "Roar..."


    Sensing its rider''s sorrow, Vermithor growled softly.


    "Don''t worry, I''m just not used to flying so high."


    Viserys soothed Vermithor and muttered, "Grandfather, after all these years, I have once again inherited your dragon."


    Casting aside his distractions, Viserys prayed silently, "May you and Vermithor grant me strength and resolve."


    "Roar!"


    Vermithor seemed to understand, gazing at the bright moon and stretching its neck to let out a resonant roar. The dragon��s emotions mirrored those of its rider.


    Man and dragon soared slowly, in serene unison.


    Viserys panted slightly, lying calmly on Vermithor''s back, basking in the moonlight.


    This scene reminded him of riding Balerion��s dragon many years ago. The difference was that his once youthful face was now lined with age, and his status had changed from prince to king.


    Yet one thing remained the same.


    The vigor of his youth resurfaced, and his tired face now bore a few more determined lines.

 Chapter 318: Red Comet!

    Chapter 318: Red Comet!


    The dragon fight ended abruptly, and Rhaegar guided the Cannibal away from the battlefield.


    Dragonmont.


    Vermithor still soared through the night sky while the Cannibal descended swiftly, using the shadows to blend into the rugged terrain.


    "Roar--"


    The Cannibalnded, twisting its hideous head to roar angrily at its rider.


    Rhaegar raised a hand to shield himself from the foul wind and said helplessly, "Hey! Take it easy."


    Sharing a bond, he sensed the Cannibal��s annoyance and its urge to unleash Dragonfire on him.


    "I''m really sorry, but we can''t kill each other."


    As the roar subsided, Rhaegar stripped off his dragon-saliva-stained ck robe and tossed out two massive chunks of dried sea monster meat.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal''s throat rumbled with a low growl as it nonchntly picked up the jerky and swallowed it.


    "Good one partner," Rhaegar praised, rubbing its pitch-ck scales.


    The Cannibal tossed its head, lying down in annoyance, unwilling to engage with its rider.


    Rhaegar chuckled, a hint of curiosity forming in his mind. The Cannibal seemed particrly interested in sea monster meat, having devoured most of the remains from the Smoking Sea.


    Shortly after, a massive dragon figure emerged from Dragonmont.


    The Cannibal snapped its head up, green vertical pupils flickering as it stared at the dragon overhead.


    "Roar..."


    The dragon roared, pped its wings, and descended, sniffing around.


    It soonnded on a nearby hill, its gaze fixed on them.


    Rhaegar, half-squatting on the dragon''s back, observed the approaching dragon.


    Green scales covered its body, silver-white wings, slender curved horns, and a powerful physique...


    "Silverwing?" Rhaegar eximed.


    Silverwing, as old as Vermithor, Cannibal, and Dreamfyre, had once belonged to Good Queen Alysanne Targaryen. It wasrge, slightly smaller than Vermithor but more massive than Dreamfyre.


    Beneath its fierce appearance, Silverwing had the most docile temperament among the dragons.


    "Roar..."


    Silverwing red at Cannibal with hostility, spreading its silver-white wings wide and issuing a sharp, challenging roar.


    It had been awakened by its mate��s battle with Cannibal.


    "Roar-"


    Provoked, the Cannibal responded with a warning roar.


    The two dragons stared each other down across the mountain, locked in an intense standoff.


    Seeing this, Rhaegar sighed, sensing trouble.


    Silverwing��s arrival was ill-timed, coinciding with the Cannibal''s rage.


    After a moment of silence, Rhaegar patted the dragon''s back andmanded, "Go, Cannibal. Teach it a lesson."


    He couldn''t keep suppressing the Cannibal''s nature and stifling its hunger forbat.


    Choosing a worthy opponent would strengthen the bond between man and dragon.


    "Roar--"


    Cannibal roared with excitement,unching into the air with powerful strides, rushing toward Silverwing like a ck meteor.


    It wasn''t necessary for it to eat other dragons, but the ultimate thrill of the hunt was irreceable. The terrified screams of its prey made its blood run cold with exhration.


    "Roar..."


    Seeing the pitch-ck dragon charging, Silverwing roared angrily, unleashing a torrent of orange Dragonfire.


    Bang...


    The exuberant Cannibal didn''t bother to dodge, charging headfirst into the Dragonfire, its green vertical pupils gleaming with cruelty.


    Pfft--


    In an instant, Cannibal reached Silverwing, biting down on its left shoulder de and tearing out hot dragon blood.


    Silverwing roared in pain, pping its wings to knock Cannibal''s head aside, and bit into its opponent''s exposed neck.


    "Roar--"


    Cannibal dodged nimbly, thrusting its feet into Silverwing''s abdomen, and unleashed a gush of eerie green Dragonfire.


    The Dragonfire sted Silverwing''s head, causing it to roar in agony. It stretched its neck to avoid the mes, then bit back at Cannibal''s right leg in a frenzy.


    "Roar..."


    The two dragons cried out in pain,unching into an even more frantic struggle.


    In a short time, Cannibal was covered in bruises, its hot dragon blood sshing onto the steep mountain peaks. Fortunately, the injuries were mostly superficial, tearing through scales but not piercing the abdomen or breaking wings.


    In contrast, Silverwing fared much worse.


    After the chaotic fight, Silverwing was no match for therger and more ferocious Cannibal. Its neck was missing a chunk of flesh, its left shoulder de was shattered, and a deep gash marred its abdomen.


    Rhaegar watched in silence from the sidelines.


    "Roar--"


    Cannibal bit into Silverwing''s neck again, pinning it down and shaking its head madly to tear the flesh.


    Silverwing roared miserably, struggling with all its might, its ws digging into Cannibal''s abdomen, piercing the scales.


    Only then did Rhaegar finally speak, "Cannibal, that''s enough!"


    Cannibal''s biting action halted. It quickly tore off a piece of flesh and swallowed it before breaking free from Silverwing''s ws to spread its wings and fly up.


    Though a hard-fought tussle was painful, it had to protect its rider and avoid serious injuries. For a wild dragon, serious injury was tantamount to waiting for death.


    "Roar..."


    Silverwing roared in shock and anger, attempting to lift off despite its injuries. However, the damage was too severe, and its flight was unsteady, exacerbating its wounds and causing more blood to flow.


    "Cannibal, let''s go!"


    Rhaegar''s eyes were downcast as he guided Cannibal away. The fierce dragon had torn two pieces of Silverwing''s flesh and blood, drinking deeply of its rival''s lifeblood.


    He sensed that each time Cannibal''s mouth tasted blood, its own blood flowed faster and the fire magic within it surged even more.


    The Cannibal, now hyperactive, seemed driven by an insatiable desire to devour more dragon meat and blood to satisfy its inexplicable greed.


    "Eating dragons elerates the Cannibal''s growth," Rhaegar concluded calmly. Even though the feeling was subtle, he was certain.


    Dragons were the pinnacle of magical creatures, and their scales, flesh, and bones contained varying degrees of fire magic.


    Cannibal''s rapid growth was likely due to its diet of stolen dragon eggs and hunted young dragons.


    Rumble-


    Suddenly, a rumble came from the sky, signaling something strange was happening.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal let out a low, guttural roar, raising his head with alert intensity. Its green, vertical pupils reflected a hint of madness.


    Rhaegar looked up as well, tousling his unkempt silver hair as he gazed at the sky.


    The dark clouds parted to reveal the bright moon. Suddenly, a massive, blood-red meteor streaked across the sky, cutting through the night.


    The meteor was enormous, its bright red color contrasting sharply with the darkness, trailing a long, fiery trail.


    "What is that?" Rhaegar''s heartbeat quickened, and he stared wide-eyed in awe.


    The red meteor moved quickly, its trajectory long and fiery. Its size far exceeded that of ordinary meteors, resembling a small rising sun.


    Rhaegar stood up on the dragon''s back, his eyes fixed on the meteor as it disappeared into the distance.


    He had heard of meteors before, and the de of the Truefyre was also forged from some meteorite iron. But this huge, fiery red meteor was beyond hisprehension.


    "Roar-"


    Cannibal roared, spreading its wide, pitch-ck wings and spewing eerie green Dragonfire.


    It sensed a subtle shift in the world around it.


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    Not only Cannibal but also Silverwing, injured and grounded, let out a roar, struggling to fly back to its nest.


    The four dragons near Dragonstone Ind roared in unison, their attention drawn to the red meteor.


    From the direction of Driftmark Ind, dragon roars echoed.


    Vhagar awoke from its slumber, its ancient eyes fixed on the red meteor, releasing a long, deep roar.


    Meleys and Sea Smoke emerged from their nests, joining the chorus of dragon roars.


    In King''s Landing, the dragons in the Dragonpit��Caraxes, Stormcloud��roared in response.


    At the Dragon Nest of the Isle of Faces, Grey Ghost, hidden in the clouds, stopped fishing and roared.


    Each dragon, startled by the red meteor, roared with various emotions.


    They all sensed an unfamiliar element added to their world.


    Back on Cannibal''s spine, Rhaegar tilted his head back, closing his eyes, his face flushed as he took deep breaths.


    He felt an intense heat, hotter than anything he had felt before.


    His blood surged faster, rushing into the palm of his right hand. Rhaegar instinctively summoned his magic.


    Zira!


    A me ignited in his palm, growing from a small spark to a zing fire that engulfed his sleeve.


    Pfft...


    The mes contracted, forming a fireball the size of a facete.


    Rhaegar''s heart raced, and he muttered in disbelief, "The magic tide!"


    The magic within him felt thicker, as if a stone had been thrown into still water, creating gentle waves.


    "Cannibal, let''s return to the castle!"


    Rhaegar, filled with questions, wanted to find his family.


    "Roar--"


    Cannibal roared, abandoning any thought of chasing Silverwing, and soared into the night sky.


    ...


    Under the night sky, an arrogant dragon roar echoed, apanied by the heavy thumping of a dragon''s tail pping the ground.


    "What''s the rush? I''m working, aren''t I?" A teenager shouted in frustration, a feeling of helplessness evident in his voice.


    Outside the town of Dragonstone Ind, at a farmhouse that raised livestock, a family of three peered intently through their old wooden door at themotion outside.


    A silver-haired, half-grown boy was yelling and running around a dirty goat pen, driving away a dozen goats. Finally, he grabbed arge goat and, with considerable effort, pushed it outside. "Come on, go sacrifice yourself to that evil dragon," he muttered.


    "Baa~~" The goat screamed in terror, bouncing up and down. The boy, using all his strength, dragged the goat out of the courtyard.


    "Roar..." An ugly, brown mud-colored dragon watched from the courtyard, one huge w stomping on the dirt wall. It spread its brown wings, swaying them arrogantly as if to emphasize its stature.


    With great effort, Aemond dragged the goat by one leg toward the dragon and yelled, "Eat! You thief!"


    He felt humiliated, having to steal a goat in front of everyone.


    "Roar..." The dragon nced at him in disdain. Its dragon breath sprayed scattered brown Dragonfire, roasting the struggling goat into charcoal.


    The dragon''s tail flicked the silver-haired boy aside as it lowered its head to devour the roasted goat.


    "Hup~~" Sheepstealer burped andzily prostrated himself on the ground, its cunning vertical pupils fixed on the silver-haired boy. Despite the boy''s slow pace, the dragon appreciated his admiring gaze.


    "This asshole!!!" Aemond clenched his fists in indignation, ring up at the smug Sheepstealer. If it weren''t for this ugly dragon abducting him, he would already be on his way to taming Silverwing.

 Chapter 319: Groups of Dragons Dancing Together

    Chapter 319: Groups of Dragons Dancing Together


    "Roar..."


    Sheepstealer''s guttural roar echoed through the cave. The dragon''s vertical pupils eyed the silver-haired boy, Aemond, with a mixture of curiosity and challenge. The dragon''s slender body swayed, its thick, brown-scaled horns carving deep furrows in the ground.


    Aemond, feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment, shouted indignantly, "If you''re not going to let me tame you, just leave! Don''t waste my time!"


    He longed for a powerful, majestic dragon. Missing out on Vermithor was a blow, and now he had to deal with this unruly beast. He turned away, his heart heavy with the thought of his mother''s scolding and Aegon''s ridicule.


    "Roar..." Sheepstealer''s roar followed Aemond''s retreating figure, the dragon''s head tilting in curiosity and perhaps reflection. Though it did not understand the boy''s words, the dragon sensed his disappointment.


    As Aemond walked away, he muttered, "Vermithor is gone, but Silverwing is still in Dragonmont..."


    His thoughts were dark, matching the darkness of the night. The future seemed bleak and uncertain.


    "Roar..." Sheepstealer roared again, this time apanied by a gust of wind from his pping wings. Aemond stumbled, almost falling as the dragon''s breath brushed against him.


    "Sheepstealer!" Aemond cursed, but before he could react, his green cloak was torn. He was lifted from the ground, dangling helplessly.


    Aemond turned in panic to see Sheepstealer''s massive form above him. The dragon gripped his cloak with its fangs, and its great brown wings unfolded.


    "Sheepstealer, stop!" Aemond shouted, fear in his voice.


    The dragon''s vertical pupils shed with a hint of mischief as it flung Aemond onto its back. Sheepstealer, a dragon of over seventy years of wildness, reveled in the boy''s fiery gaze, something it hadn''t encountered before.


    "Sheepstealer, you viin, put me down!" Aemond yelled, his head spinning as hended heavily on the dragon''s back.


    Sheepstealer''s robust appearance belied its unique body structure. Unlike typical dragons with strong muscles beneath their scales, Sheepstealer''s body was thin and covered in a rough cuticle mixed with mud, forming a lumpy, protective shell.


    "Roar..." Uninterested in Aemond''s words, Sheepstealer spread its wings, ready to fly. A fiery red meteor streaked across the night sky and caught the dragon''s attention. Its vertical pupils swivelled, and it turned toward the ck stone mountain inhabited by humans, sensing the presence of other dragons.


    "Sheepstealer, where are you taking me?" Aemond shouted, fear gripping his heart as he clung to the dragon''s muddy scales.


    "Roar..." Sheepstealer responded with another roar, his body rising and falling, deliberately shaking Aemond on his back. The dragon''s intent was clear - it had chosen its new rider, and the boy would have to prove himself worthy.


    ...


    On the other side, a red meteor streaked across the sky, startling Vermithor as he hovered above the clouds.


    Viserys felt Vermithor''s agitation and climbed up, trying his best to calm the dragon. "It''s just a meteor. Let''s get back to the castle first."


    He had sessfully tamed Vermithor, and it was time to return to his family.


    "Roar..."


    Vermithor let out a low, muffled roar before obediently descending through the clouds toward DragonstoneCastle.


    With remarkable speed, the dragon reached its destination in no time, carrying its rider with ease.


    "Roar!"


    Vermithor roared triumphantly, circling the castle twice before slowlynding in a clearing by the cliffside.


    The bronze beast''s roar caused a greatmotion.


    People inside the Stone Drum Tower ran out to the cliffside near the coast. Everyone knew someone had tamed Vermithor, but it was unclear if the rider was Viserys, Aemond, or another dragon rider.


    "Roar..."


    Vermithor crouched, its icy vertical pupils scanning the crowd.


    "Vermithor, they are my family," Viserys reassured the dragon, smiling softly.


    He rubbed the dragon''s rough, bronze-colored scales a few times before carefully climbing down.


    "Viserys, you tamed a dragon!"


    Alicent, dressed in green, was the first to reach her husband, staring timidly at the bronze dragon.


    Raised as ady, she had always disliked dangerous dragons. Even as a teenager, she had politely declined Rhaenyra''s invitations to ride Syrax.


    Soon, Rhaenyra, Daemon, and the others arrived, looking at Vermithor in astonishment.


    No one had expected the seemingly frail Viserys to tame such a formidable beast.


    "Alicent, you should be proud of me," Viserys said proudly, stepping forward to embrace his wife.


    This night had been more thrilling than all the previous decades of his lifebined.


    Alicent, bewildered and wanting to offer tenderness but unsure how, said, "Viserys, you smell terrible."


    She immediately regretted her words, realizing she had spoken without thinking.


    Viserys didn''t take offense. He lowered his head, sniffed himself, and feigned disgust. "I''m covered in sweat and dragon stench."


    He noticed his brother Daemon and a group of children approaching.


    Patting his wife''s back, Viserys released his embrace and asked yfully, "Do I really smell that bad?"


    "Hahaha!"


    He burst outughing, enjoying the moment.


    Rhaenyra rolled her eyes affectionately and stepped forward to embrace her father. "Father, congrattions."


    She had been worried about his safety, but now she was genuinely happy for him. Not just because he had tamed Vermithor, but because of the pure joy in hisughter.


    Daemon led his two daughters forward, aplex expression on his face. "Brother, should I say it''s an honor for the family to see you ride a dragon again?"


    "Perhaps," Viserys replied, his smile unwavering.


    "Roar��"


    A deep dragon roar echoed from afar as a ck dragon''s shadow soared above the castle, weaving through the rolling clouds.


    "Roar..."


    Vermithor''s eyes gleamed fiercely, its dragon''s maw curling as it gazed into the night.


    "Vermithor, the fight is over," Viserys spoke soothingly, his voice calm and firm.


    He understood Vermithor''s troubled heart, a raging, irritable beast. Before tonight, he had seen the dragon as an untameable force, but now he sought to calm him, to awaken its senses.


    Vermithor looked at Viserys, suppressing his anger and closing his eyes as if to ignore the world.


    "Roar..."


    Another sharp roar echoed from the direction of the long stone bridge steps.


    Boom!


    Cannibal was the first tond, its thick feet stamping steadily on the cliffsidewn, wings folding against the gusts.


    "Roar!"


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    The four dragons near the castle roared in panic, but instead of fleeing, they hovered, watching Cannibal and Vermithor warily.


    Cannibalnded on the southern edge of the cliff, while Vermithory to the north. The two dragons were separated by a substantial distance, maintaining a tense standoff.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre pped its light blue wings and tentatively approached Vermithor. Seeing no response, Dreamfyre cautiouslynded nearby, its eyes locked on Cannibal.


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre, anxious, circled once beforending on the opposite side of Vermithor, keeping its distance from Cannibal.


    Cannibal''s green eyes swept over the two dragons with contempt.


    "Cannibal, put me down," Rhaegar patted its scales in amusement and climbed down a softdder.


    As his feet touched the ground, the golden-scaled Syrax approached slowly, settling behind Cannibal at a safe distance. Despite their differences, these two dragons had grown ustomed to each other''s presence.


    Above, only Tessarion continued to circle, roaring but hesitant tond. The arrival of Vermithor had disrupted Cannibal''s dominance. The two dragons now divided the area, with Dreamfyre and Sunfyre keeping their distance from Cannibal.


    Tessarion, young and unfamiliar with both sides, remained alone and excluded.


    "Roar..."


    A sharp roar once again came from the stone bridge steps, and a brown, mud-colored dragon slowly flew in, adding to the tension of the night.

 Chapter 320: Sheepstealer vs Sunfyre

    Chapter 320: Sheepstealer vs Sunfyre


    "Idiot, what the hell are you doing!?"


    The moment the ugly dragon appeared, a familiar scolding rang out.


    "Aemond?" Alicent''s eyes widened in astonishment as she searched for her child. When Rhaegar executed Grand Maester Mellos, Aemond was believed to be hiding in his room, but now he was on the back of a wild dragon.


    "Roar..." Sheepstealer threw back its head and roared, its dry body twisting and spinning mid-air to shake off the noisy silver-haired boy on its back.


    On the edge of the cliff, Rhaenyra and Viserys stood hand in hand, watching the spectacle.


    "My boy, thanks to you tonight," Viserys said, looking at his eldest son with relief. If it wasn''t for Rhaegar''s timely intervention with his dragon, taming Vermithor would have been much harder.


    "Father, things are far from over," Rhaegar replied, ncing meaningfully at Sheepstealer in mid-air. "It looks like our family''s dragon riders are about to increase again."


    "Aemond is a good boy, tough and brave," Viserys said with a smile. All six of his children had be dragon riders, a point of pride for him. Even during his grandfather Jaehaerys''s time, only three of thirteen children became dragon riders.


    "Roar..." Sheepstealer yfully flew over the cliff edge, his vertical pupils scrutinizing Cannibal and Vermithor, hovering as if in no hurry tond.


    Aemond, in a sorry state on Sheepstealer''s back, shouted with his eyes closed, "Stupid dragon, put me down!!!" His shawl-length hair covered his cheeks, and there was nothing left in his stomach to vomit.


    Hearing her child''s shouts, Alicent was instantly rmed and called out eagerly, "Aemond, are you okay?!"


    Aemond looked up at the sound, ruffled his messy hair, and realized that his father, mother, and siblings were all watching from below. Mortified, he covered his face and yelled, "Damn it, you��re all seeing this!"


    At that moment, Alicent''s shocked and angry voice came from below, "Aemond! Who allowed you to climb onto the back of a wild dragon?"


    Aemond said nothing, lying on Sheepstealer''s back and pretending to be dead.


    "Roar..." Sheepstealer nced back at him and let out a roar of annoyance. If you want to ride, you have to be brave, not cower.


    Confirming that the two adult dragons below did not show any hostility, Sheepstealer pped his wings andnded, stopping in the open space between them.


    "Roar..." Vermithor nced at them with his vertical pupils before turning away disinterestedly.


    On the other side, Cannibal changed his posture andzily closed his eyes, finding the sight redundant. A rotten dragon that only poached livestock wasn''t worth his attention.


    "Roar..." Sheepstealer, oblivious, spread his wings and struck a majestic pose among the group of dragons. Born wild, he hadn''t had much contact with other dragons and considered his physique quite impressive.


    "Stupid dragon, put me down or I''ll let Cannibal eat you!" Aemond hung helplessly from Sheepstealer''s neck, warning sharply and angrily. He swore he was really close to falling.


    "Oh, gods."


    Viserys paled and tried to run over to catch his third son.


    Rhaegar reached out to stop him and said seriously, "Don''t worry. Since the Sheepstealer let Aemond ride on its back, he''s in no danger."


    Although the rtionship between Aemond and the Sheepstealer looked strange and not quite harmonious, a dragon was a dragon. Once it epted a rider, it would do everything in its power to protect them.


    "Roar..."


    After shaking for a while and seeing that no other dragon paid attention to it, the Sheepstealer roared resentfully andy down on the ground.


    Aemond climbed off the dragon''s back with limp arms and legs, staggering and dry-heaving.


    "Aemond!" Alicent quickly stepped forward to check on her son.


    "I''m fine," Aemond said, spitting out a mouthful of acid. He then amended, "Should be fine."


    Rhaegar approached and smiled. "Aemond, congrattions on taming an adult dragon."


    He looked at the indifferent Sheepstealer and didn''t say anything to dampen Aemond''s spirits. Despite its poor appearance, the Sheepstealer was a real dragon, with potential not inferior to Caraxes or Meleys.


    "Aemond, you actually did tame a dragon!" Aegon eximed, strutting forward.


    Aemond nced at him and then looked away in silence. He didn''t want to ride an ugly, rotten dragon and had been forced into the situation by the Sheepstealer.


    Aegon squeezed past the worried Alicent and put both hands on Aemond''s shoulders. "My dear old brother, why aren''t you happy at all?"


    "Aegon, it''s not my dragon. I had nned to tame Vermithor or Silverwing," Aemond said, covering his face in frustration.


    "Don''t say that. I see it cares for you," Aegon replied, wrapping his arm around Aemond''s shoulders and forcing him to look at the Sheepstealer. He then added, "Look, we''ve both got dragons."


    He waved at Sunfyre in the distance, suppressing augh. "Sunfyre,e over and let me brother see you!"


    "Aegon, what do you want?" Alicent''s face sank slightly.


    Aegon, full of concern, held Aemond firmly and said calmly, "We are both dragon riders so let''spare our dragons."


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre roared, seeing the Sheepstealerfortably settled in the center. He pped his wings and flew over.


    Aegon pointed at thended Sunfyre and asked in an exaggerated manner, "Aemond, see these golden scales and pale pink wing membranes?"


    "Yes, it''s beautiful," Aemond responded, breathless.


    He had guessed what Aegon was up to.


    "That''s right, a gorgeous golden dragon! The maesters of the Citadel say that Sunfyre is the most majestic and beautiful dragon ever!"


    Aegon��s words brimmed with pride. He then twisted his head to point at the wagging tail of the Sheepstealer and pretended toment with admiration, "Aemond, you are truly my brother, taming dragons but seeking the other extreme, choosing this one..."


    "Oh, no. I mean, that dragon looks like a piece of shit!"


    As he spoke his true thoughts, Aegon could no longer hold back hisughter. Laughing uproariously, he pped Aemond''s shoulder recklessly. "Hahaha, a Shit Dragon!"


    Aegon��s tears nearly came out fromughing so hard,pletely disregarding his brother''s feelings.


    "Aegon, put away your useless mockery. Your brother is lucky to be back safe and sound!" Alicent, their mother, could not stand to hear it and pushed the debonair Aegon away, sternly admonishing him with a face full of anger.


    "Mother, it was just a little joke between brothers," Aegon defended himself indifferently.


    "You! ..." Alicent was furious.


    "Mother, forget it," Aemond interrupted in a low voice. "I will find a real dragon and prove myself to everyone."


    "Don''t be silly, you should be happy to have any dragon looking at you," Aegon couldn��t stop snickering, inserting another knife.


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre, seeing the ugly Sheepstealer, raised its head condescendingly, unting its wings and pping them.


    With both Aegon and Sunfyre taunting him, Aemond��s fragile resolve shattered. His face contorted with anger as he pushed Aegon away, roaring, "Aegon! It''s not my dragon, and I will tame one that fits my status!"


    The conflict escted rapidly, taking everyone by surprise. Rhaegar and the others were still on the sidelines when the brothers erupted into a full-blown fight.


    "You bastard, how dare you push me!" Aegon nearly fell over, then backhandedly yanked on Aemond��s cor, ring. "You came back riding this rotten dragon, and it��s your dragon."


    "So what? That''s no reason for you to mock me endlessly!" Aemond shot back without showing any weakness.


    "There''s nothing unspeakable in the world," Aegon sneered.


    "Aegon, release your brother," Alicentmanded.


    "Let go of Aemond..." Hena and young Daeron, who had been close by, were the first to intervene, one shielding Aemond and the other trying to shove Aegon��s leg. The altercation escted instantly.


    "Roar..."


    Seeing that its rider was surrounded, Sunfyre��s eyes showed a fierce light as it gradually bared its fangs.


    "Aegon, you''ve been mocking me. You should apologize!"


    "I''m just telling the truth. It is you, the coward, who lies to yourself."


    "......"


    The chaos continued as Aegon and Aemond turned on each other, pushing and shoving violently.


    "Aegon, Aemond, stop this at once!" Viserys rushed over, trying to separate his two sons.


    But the brothers were too consumed by their quarrel to heed his words.


    "Roar..."


    Themotion drew the Sheepstealer''s attention. The ragged dragon cocked his head, looking east and west in surprise.


    Was the silver-haired child being held hostage?


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre crouched low, its vertical pupils cold as it issued a warning growl.


    The Sheepstealer twisted its head, locking eyes with the golden dragon.


    "Aegon, you''re just a bully who picks on the weak," Aemond spat, his eyes red from the rough shoves.


    "So what? The stronger is always right," Aegon replied, deliberately goading him.


    "You''ll regret this!" Aemond hissed.


    "Roar......"


    As soon as the words left his mouth, a sharp dragon roar split the air, followed by a gust of wind and a cloud of dust.


    Seizing the moment, the Sheepstealer pounced on Sunfyre without warning, its jaws mping ruthlessly around the golden dragon''s neck.


    "Roar......"


    Sunfyre, caught off guard, roared in fury. It struggled fiercely, sinking its teeth into the Sheepstealer''s corbone, tearing at the mud-encrusted scales.


    There was a loud crack.


    Arge chunk of the Sheepstealer''s mud-like cuticle was bitten off, revealing intact brown scales beneath.


    Pfft...


    The Sheepstealer retaliated swiftly, its fangs closing to tear a small piece of flesh. Its thick brown wings pummeled Sunfyre''s skull, and it managed to bite into a section of the golden dragon''s lower ribs.


    With lightning speed, the two dragons, one brown and one gold, became locked in a frantic tussle.


    The Sheepstealer, much older and significantlyrger, used its massive body to press Sunfyre into the ground, the size difference between them more than double.

 Chapter 321: Aemond’s Growth

    Chapter 321: Aemond��s Growth


    "Roar......"


    Sunfyre let out a pained roar, its golden scales marred with bruises and bites. The Sheepstealer''s relentless assault gave it no chance to fight back. With fangs locked around Sunfyre''s neck, the Sheepstealer thrashed its head like a mad beast, dragging Sunfyre across the ground.


    Pinned on its back, Sunfyre stretched its neck to avoid further bites, its sharp ws stabbing into the Sheepstealer''s abdomen.


    Rip!


    Sunfyre''s ws tore through ayer of chunky keratin, finally piercing the scales and hooking into the flesh beneath. For a moment, it seemed like the Sheepstealer had no flesh and blood, only rotten bones, until hot dragon blood oozed from the wound.


    "Roar......"


    The Sheepstealer shrieked in pain and immediately released its grip, pulling away with lightning speed.


    Freed from the adult dragon''s oppressive weight, Sunfyre quickly rose and unleashed a torrent of golden dragonfire.


    "Roar......"


    The Sheepstealer screamed again, its chest ame, and it stumbled back. Sensing an opportunity, Sunfyre ignored its own injuries and lunged for the exposed neck.


    But just as Sunfyre closed in, the Sheepstealer counterattacked fiercely. Its ws raked Sunfyre''s body, and a burst of brown dragonfire erupted from its jaws.


    Boom...


    The mud-colored mes engulfed Sunfyre''s head, causing it to recoil in agony. Despite this, Sunfyre''s ferocity was undiminished. It fought to sink its teeth into the Sheepstealer''s neck.


    "Roar......"


    The Sheepstealer shrieked, stabbing one w into Sunfyre''s chest and another into its neck, regaining the upper hand. The size and age disparity between the two dragons became starkly evident as the Sheepstealer''s hideous, fierce visage bore down on Sunfyre.


    With its vertical pupils locked onto Sunfyre''s golden scales and pale pink wing membranes, the Sheepstealer bit down on one of Sunfyre''s iling wings, attempting to tear it apart.


    "Roar......"


    Sunfyre struggled, spewing golden dragonfire and gnashing its teeth into the Sheepstealer''s bloodied abdomen. Though the Sheepstealer was massive, its body was unusually thin, its abdomen appearing slender.


    Sunfyre''s sharp jaws pierced the scales, biting into the scorching blood and flesh, aiming for the internal organs.


    "Stop!!!"


    Aemond yelled in desperation, "Sheepstealer, get out of the way!"


    The fierce battle between the two dragons had stirred up the cliffside, with winds driving the onlookers back. Each sought refuge beside their own dragon.


    Despite Aemond''s dislike for the Sheepstealer''s ugly form, he knew this rotten dragon was fighting for him.


    Rhaegar held Aemond back, considering whether to send the Cannibal to separate the dragons. But dragons, with their hot blood and cold hearts, were difficult to separate once engaged in a real fight unless it was a matter of life and death.


    "Roar..."


    The Sheepstealer screamed in pain, its ws pushing away from Sunfyre as it tore violently at the other''s wings in ast act of defiance.


    Rip!


    Sunfyre''s pale pink wing membrane was shed open with a two-meter-long gash, the edges ragged and filled with small, uneven holes. The bite marred the dragon''s once magnificent appearance.


    "No! My Sunfyre!" Aegon cried out in horror, as if he felt the pain himself.


    Boom!


    The Sheepstealer pped its broad brown wings,unching into the air and spraying dragonfire to block Sunfyre''s counterattack. Dragging its wounded body, it fled into the dark clouds, disappearing from sight.


    Sunfyre, drenched in blood, was left behind with torn flesh on its neck, ribs, and right leg. Golden scales had been plowed out, and therge tear in its wing membrane made it difficult to fly. Despite its fury, Sunfyre struggled to stay aloft and eventually crashed back to the ground.


    "Aemond, look what your dragon has done!" Aegon shouted, gripping Aemond''s cor and forcing him to see Sunfyre''s injuries.


    "Let go of me, you fool!" Aemond retorted, his indignation fueling his struggle to break Aegon''s grip.


    Aegon, grimacing in pain, spat out, "Your dragon tore the wings of Sunfyre, the most majestic dragon of all!"


    "Aegon, you started it," Aemond sneered, unmoved. "And for thest time, the Sheepstealer isn''t my dragon. But I''d love to see it fight to the end and make you pay!"


    Anyone could see the Sheepstealer had the upper hand in the fight, its size, strength, andbat skills clearly superior. Had the fight continued, Sunfyre would have faced a grim fate.


    "Shut up, you two! You''re blood brothers!" Alicent''s anger reached its peak as she tried to separate her sons.


    Otto stood by, silently pressing down on Aegon''s clenched fist, his expression a warning. Losing Maester Mellos''s support and possibly the heir''s favor tonight, Aemond taming the Sheepstealer had been a rare piece of good news. Sibling rivalry at this critical moment was a dangerous joke.


    As the brothers continued their heated argument, others stepped in. Hena and Daeron squeezed between them, protecting Aemond and pulling Aegon away. Rhaegar was pushed to the side, bewildered by the sudden intensity of the brothers'' anger.


    Rhaenyra''s foster young daughters clung to her thighs, frightened by the dragon fight and the ensuing quarrel. She gentlyforted them and nced helplessly at Rhaegar. "What should we do?" she whispered.


    Rhaegar hesitated, understanding the need for intervention. He saw his father''s anxious expression, Viserys''s chest heaving with barely contained fury. What should have been a joyous asion had devolved into chaos.


    Viserys, furious, initially wanted to scold and separate his sons as usual. But he stopped himself. Though he was their father, he realized he couldn''t always mediate between two dragon masters.


    With that in mind, Viserys scanned the room.


    Daemon stood with his arms crossed, watching with a smug expression. Viserys felt a surge of disgust, knowing he couldn''t rely on him.


    Eventually, he locked eyes with his eldest son. Their gazes met in understanding.


    "Rhaegar," Viserys said softly, just the name.


    Rhaegar instantly understood. "Leave it to me, father," he responded solemnly.


    This was the moment he''d been waiting for��his father''s approval. Despite his efforts to guide his younger siblings, his sess had been limited. His interactions with Aemond during the day had made him realize the importance of blood, identity, and affection.


    As the eldest, he wasn''t fully trusted by his half-siblings, a consequence of their different mothers and his father''s previous inaction.


    Now, his father was giving him the authority to discipline, to manage his siblings as needed.


    "Aegon, calm yourself!" Rhaegar stepped forward and yanked Aegon out of the fray, causing him to stumble back.


    "Rhaegar, why do you care?" Aegon protested.


    Aemond, equally annoyed, jumped to his feet and red at Aegon. Rhaegar stood firm, his face calm, and shot Aemond a cold stare that stopped him in his tracks.


    Under his older brother''s stern gaze, Aemond reluctantly stopped.


    Rhaegar turned back to the defiant Aegon. "Is fighting fun?"


    Aegon froze, unsure how to answer.


    With a warning look, Rhaegar nced at the seething Aemond and exhaled. "Have youe to your senses?"


    Knowing that Aegon had instigated the conflict and Aemond had been the target, he didn''t want to lecture too harshly.


    Rhaegar stood between his brothers, his cor blowing loose in the evening breeze.


    Aegon hesitated, working up the courage to speak.


    "Aegon, just take care of your dragon," Rhaegar said lightly, frowning slightly.


    Aegon immediately fell silent and walked angrily toward Sunfyre.


    Seeing this, Aemond reluctantly muttered, "It was him..."


    "Shhh!" Rhaegar raised his index finger, signaling for silence.


    Aemond, his face turning red with frustration, was forced toply.


    Rhaegar sighed, rubbed his head, and said with a straight face, "Congrattions on gaining the recognition of an adult dragon. You have proven yourself."


    Without waiting for Aemond to answer, he nced over at Hena and Daeron and added ndly, "It''s time for the children to go to bed."


    Daeron hid behind Aemond, his shy eyes showing his difort at his older brother''s severity.


    Hena stood quietly beside Aemond, her small head bowed, her violet eyes looking around nervously. She remembered her brother stepping in to teach Aegon a lesson when she was younger.


    Rhaegar didn''t specte on her thoughts, but said firmly, "Now go to bed and forget tonight''s unpleasantness."


    Hena winced and tugged at Aemond. "Let''s go," she muttered.


    Daeron nodded in agreement.


    "Fine," Aemond agreed reluctantly.


    Alicent gathered her children and started to leave.


    After a few steps, Aemond stopped suddenly. "Aegon, you still haven''t apologized to me."


    Aegon paused, dismissive.


    "Aegon, we are brothers. Is it so hard to apologize?" Aemond said through gritted teeth.


    Rhaegar watched with interest, curious to see Aemond''s true feelings.


    Aegon continued toward Sunfyre, ignoring him.


    Aemond stared at his back, his fists clenching and unclenching. "Aegon, you owe me an apology, and I''ll make you pay for it," he muttered.


    With that, he broke away from Hena and Daeron and walked back to the castle alone.


    "Aemond..." Alicent murmured, standing still, lost in thought.


    Otto patted her shoulder. "Leave him alone for a while. Bickering between brothers is normal."


    Rhaegar''s eyes twinkled as he silently watched Aemond''s retreating figure. He sensed that Aemond was a precocious child with his own ns.


    Rhaenyra walked over and took his hand. "Let''s go. Tell me about tonight," she said softly.


    Father and Aemond had been out taming dragons, and Rhaegar had killed Grand Maester Mellos. These were events big enough to stir the continent.


    "I do have a lot to say," Rhaegar replied emotionally, looking up at a streak of red in the night sky. The red meteor seemed to stretch from one side of the sky to the other.


    He nced sideways at his father. The deaths of Mellos and Borros, and the marriage of the Targaryen and Baratheon Houses, all needed his father''s presence to be decided.


    Alicent took off her cloak and draped it over her husband''s bare shoulders as they strolled along, leaning on each other. Rhaegar tilted his head slightly, sensing it wasn''t the time to interrupt. Rhaenyraughed and followed the group, arm in arm.

 Chapter 322: Dragon Eggs and Wild Dragons

    Chapter 322: Dragon Eggs and Wild Dragons


    Three dayster...


    Dragonmont, Eastern Mountain Range


    "Give me your hand and stamp your feet hard."


    "Wait, I haven''t stepped firmly yet."


    ...


    On the steep mountainside, Rhaegary half-faced on the rock face, reaching out to help Aemond climb up.


    Rustling...


    After an arduous climb, Aemond finally made it up the steep slope and copsed to the ground, panting and exhausted.


    "Take a breather, the cave is just around the corner."


    Rhaegar took a sip from his water pouch and handed it casually.


    Looking around, the brothers stood on a treacherous peak, their silver hair fluttering in the salty sea breeze. The mountain was barren, littered with sharp debris, miles away from the towering active volcano.


    "Roar..."


    An ear-splitting roar echoed as a cascade of debris fell from the mountain top. The dragon covered in brown, mud-colored scales, known as Sheepstealer,nded on a craggy patch of cliff, peering down at the brothers with a mischievous look.


    Aemond''s face fell at the sound. "This stupid thing will wear me out before it''s ready to do anything."


    After days of separation, he had reluctantly epted the fact that he had won Sheepstealer''s favor. But the dragon still found ways to torment him.


    "This treacherous peak is Sheepstealer''s territory, and it insists we visit itsir," Rhaegar exined, rubbing Aemond''s head in amusement. He stood up to continue climbing.


    Cannibal and Silverwing had suffered minor injuries from their battles and were recuperating at the sea cliffs. Sheepstealer had also been injured dealing with Sunfyre and was not yet ready for Aemond to ride.


    Aemond''s eyes darkened, and he said despondently, "I''d rather not have any treasure. I just want to take a boat back to King''s Landing with Father and the others."


    The day after Viserys tamed Vermithor, Rhaegar exined the mounting troubles one by one. The vacation had abruptly ended, and the overwhelmed king led his family back to King''s Landing to address the problems. Aemond, however, was pestered by Sheepstealer and forced to stay on Dragonstone.


    At this moment, only Aemond, Rhaegar, and the unaware Four Storms remained on the ind.


    As the sun climbed higher, reaching noon, Rhaegar was the first to reach the mountain top. He took a deep breath. "It''s been a while since I''ve been this active."


    Looking around, he saw Dragonmont stretching far and wide under the azure sky.


    Aemond soon joined him, tired and sweating profusely.


    "Roar..."


    The Sheepstealer roared, perching on the mountain peak and pping his wings as if to show off his self-proimed majesty.


    Rhaegar shook his head with a bemused smile, ncing at the sullen Aemond before moving towards the cave, littered with sheep bones and dragon dung.


    The cave entrance was narrow, but the interior was spacious and surprisingly shallow, resembling a natural cavern.


    The brothers entered, tripping over bones and rotten rocks until they reached a makeshift nest. Dragon nests are best located near volcanoes, where they can bask in the high temperatures of underground magma. The next best are dark, stifling underground caves like the Dragonpit.


    Rhaegar stared at the crude nest made of rotten wood, stone, and mud with dismay. "Aemond, you��ve really found a treasure. The Sheepstealer is definitely not an ordinary dragon."


    "Rhaegar, please stop," Aemond muttered, covering his face with his hands.


    Rhaegar''s brows furrowed in concern. "Let''s see what''s in the nest."


    He recalled that wild dragons had different habits than those tamed from birth, and their survival environments varied significantly. The Grey Ghost lived on the east coast of Dragonstone, finding a cliff cave with seabirds as neighbors. The Cannibal had no fixed nest, living wherever it pleased and flying all over the world. Compared to them, a Sheepstealer��s nest seemed logical.


    Navigating through a field of skeletons was difficult. The grotto was filled with bones, rotten rocks, and dragon dung. Most of the skeletons were goats, but there were alsorge dogs and human remains scattered about.


    "Not bad for a wild dragon with the most contact with humans," Rhaegar mused, raising the perceived danger of wild dragons.


    "Rhaegar,e look at this!" Aemond called, his smaller frame more agile as he navigated through the mess and climbed up the massive nest.


    Rhaegar stopped dawdling and quickly joined him. Climbing along the exposed logs of the nest, they uncovered the copsed center, revealing a hoard of different-colored gems, a rotting wooden box glinting with gold, broken swords, and remnants of armor��all shiny objects that dragons favored.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were drawn to two oval dragon eggs nestled among the gems. "Dragon eggs?" he eximed.


    "Yes, and they look like they can hatch," Aemond said excitedly, holding out the two dragon eggs.


    Rhaegar examined them; one was green and the other light purple, both showing signs of hatching activity. "Could the green egg be Silverwing��s?" Aemond spected, touching it carefully.


    "Probably. Vhagar stoppedying eggs long ago. Only Silverwing would be suitable," Rhaegar agreed, looking out of the cave with an odd expression. "Do Sheepstealers have a penchant for stealing dragon eggs?"


    He had thought only Cannibal would do such a thing, and that was mainly for satisfying his hunger.


    "What if it��s an eggid by Sheepstealer?" Aemond guessed.


    Rhaegar pondered for a moment and shook his head. "Dragons don��t have genders, but they do have habits. Sheepstealer doesn��t seem like an eggying dragon. Otherwise, it wouldn��t have let us take them."


    Aemond��s eyes brightened, and he let out a relieved "Oh."


    "Don��t dawdle. You found the dragon eggs, and when you have children in the future, you can pick from these two," Rhaegar said cheerfully.


    Aemond pursed his lips and remained silent.


    The brothers soon emerged from the cave.


    Aemond took off his cloak, using it to wrap the two dragon eggs and secure them to his waist. Rhaegar, not wanting to waste the Sheepstealer''s goodwill, used his space bracelet to collect a pile of precious stones and the crushed gold from the chest.


    This unexpected bounty would help cover the costs of constructing Harrenhal and training the Fearless, expenses that had been significant.


    He and Aemond agreed to split the loot, taking advantage of the Sheepstealer''s unwitting generosity.


    As the afternoon wore on, they slowly descended the mountain, chatting as they went. Aemond often sought out his older brother Rhaegar to discuss dragon taming, warfare, and the management of fiefdoms. Rhaegar, in turn, offered specific advice, hoping that Aemond would grow into a reliable leader, unlike their useless brother Aegon.


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, the Sheepstealer swooped overhead, its sharp ws piercing the rock as it perched on a ledge.


    "What''s wrong with it?" Rhaegar asked, puzzled.


    Having just raided the dragon''s nest, Rhaegar wondered if it wasing for revenge.


    Aemond shook his head, unable to sense the dragon''s emotions because of theirck of a bond.


    "Roar..."


    The Sheepstealer roared shrilly, its dried-up dragonhead sniffing the air before pping its wings excitedly and taking off.


    "It seems like it''s found an enemy," Rhaegar observed, frowning slightly. "You keep climbing down. I''ll check it out."


    Dragons had a strong sense of territory, and the Sheepstealer''s reaction suggested it felt threatened by an intruder.


    Click...


    Navigating the uneven mountain rocks, Rhaegar slowly approached the crags, examining the area where the Sheepstealer hadnded. The rocks bore several messy, huge w marks, each about three fingers in length��unusuallyrge.


    "A dragon?" Rhaegar''s eyes widened with surprise. The size and shape of the w marks could only have been left by a dragon, given the steep cliffs.


    Examining the marks further, he noted they wererger than Syrax or Sunfyre''s but smaller than the Sheepstealer''s. "Not a dragon on the ind," he spected. "A wild dragon!"


    Considering the known dragons: Vhagar, Cannibal, and Vermithor were all true giants, muchrger than the Sheepstealer. Silverwing and Dreamfyre were alsorger, and Caraxes and Meleys, although slightly smaller, still exceeded the size of the w marks.


    The fourth-generation dragons, Syrax, Sunfyre, Seasmoke, and Grey Ghost, were all smaller than the Sheepstealer.


    "This wild dragon is probably around forty or fifty years old," Rhaegar calcted, "its size between the family''s fourth-generation and third-generation dragons."


    A sudden realization struck him. "The Wild Dragon of the Smoking Sea?" After the Doom of Valyria, the Targaryens'' dragons were supposed to be the only ones left, with all others residing on Dragonstone or the Dragonpit.


    The Cannibal was the only known wild dragon, notorious for eating dragon eggs and young dragons. Now, there''s a new trace of a wild dragon on Dragonstone Ind?


    A sense of urgency gripped Rhaegar. Tightening the cloak around his waist that held the dragon eggs, he quickly descended the mountain with Aemond.


    The steepness gradually lessened, and theynded safely at the base, where an old man and a young Dragonkeeper were waiting.


    "Prince, you finally came down the mountain. Miss Cassandra asked about you many times," the older Dragonkeeper spoke in rich High Valyrian.


    Rhaegar unbuckled the cloak and carefully handed the two dragon eggs to the young Dragonkeeper, instructing in High Valyrian, "Store them in the cer under the Stone Drum."


    "Yes, Prince," the young Dragonkeeper replied, handling the eggs with great care.


    Rhaegar then turned to the older Dragonkeeper, pointing to the mountain with the w marks. "There is a wild dragon on the ind, in Dragonmont, the east coast. Increase Dragonkeeper patrols in these areas."


    The older Dragonkeeper peered up in surprise. Rhaegar grabbed his arm, eyes cold. "If you spot an unknown wild dragon, leave a marker and send word immediately. I will ride the Cannibal to hunt it."


    "Hunt?" The elderly Dragonkeeper''s mouth fell open.


    "That''s right," Rhaegar affirmed. "Do you hear me?"


    No dragon that did not belong to the Targaryens would be allowed to roam free, potentially threatening the family. If this wild dragon dared to appear, it would either be captured and added to the Dragonpit or hunted down and killed to satisfy the Cannibal''s appetite.

 Chapter 323: The Lost Dragon Eggs

    Chapter 323: The Lost Dragon Eggs


    "As you wish, Prince," the elderly Dragonkeeper replied, understanding the gravity of the situation.


    Nearby, Aemond absorbed the information and asked, "There really is a wild dragon on Dragonstone Ind?"


    "Thinking about taming it?" Rhaegar teased, calming down.


    Aemond quickly shook his head. "Sheepstealer... it''s more powerful than Sunfyre."


    Rhaegar chuckled. "Let''s go, silly boy."


    The Four Storms were still waiting for Aemond back at the Stone Drum Tower with high expectations.


    On their way back, Aemond couldn''t contain his curiosity. "Why hunt the wild dragon? Can''t it just stay on Dragonstone Ind?"


    Rhaegar nced at him. "How would you feel about living in Storm��s End with a Baratheon daughter?"


    "No! I don''t want to," Aemond replied instantly.


    "Exactly," Rhaegar said with a yful smile.


    Aemond paused, realizing the implication. He wouldn''t want to stay in Storm��s End, and the wild dragon likely wouldn''t want to remain on Dragonstone Ind.


    Seeing Aemond''s thoughtful expression, Rhaegar decided to teach him a lesson. "Aemond, why do you think our family rules Westeros?" he asked softly.


    "Because we have dragons," Aemond answered confidently.


    "Exactly, the dragons," Rhaegar said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Isn''t it amazing that the Conqueror took Westeros with just three dragons?"


    "Of course," Aemond replied without hesitation.


    Aegon the Conqueror, along with his sisters and queens, Visenya and Rhaenys, had three dragons and established a unified dynasty in just a few years. Aemond, well-versed in their history, felt a surge of restlessness in his young heart.


    To him, if three conquerors with three dragons could subdue the continent, their family, with so many dragons, might even rule beyond the Narrow Sea.


    "Don''t get ahead of yourself," Rhaegar said, giving Aemond a light p on the back of the head. "War means sacrifice. It''s not something to be taken lightly."


    Rhaegar could guess what was running through Aemond''s mind. The Targaryens were indeed powerful, with nine dragonriders in the family. But when it came to war, only a few could truly be counted on to fight.


    Rhaegar and his Cannibal were at the forefront, followed by Aegon with Sunfyre, and their father with Vermithor. Then there were Daemon with Caraxes, and Rhaenys with Meleys. The rest were either too young or carried Vryon names.


    Holding his head where he was hit, Aemond asked, "What are you trying to say?"


    "Targaryens are powerful not just because we have dragons, but because others don��t," Rhaegar exined.


    "But Valyria is gone. The only Dragonlord family left is Targaryen," Aemond retorted.


    "Do you really think so?" Rhaegar asked, watching Aemond''s reaction.


    Aemond hesitated. "What''s the problem?"


    Rhaegar sighed, realizing the gaps in his brother��s understanding. "Aemond, how many dragons are there on Dragonstone Ind?"


    Queen Alyssane had abolished the Lord��s right to the first night, and over the centuries, many of the ind��s bastards had silver hair and purple eyes, marking them as Dragonseeds. These bastards far outnumbered the proper Targaryens, yet they weren''t allowed to tame dragons without permission.


    "The Dragonseeds can''t tame dragons without permission, and Dragonmont is patrolled by Dragonkeepers," Aemond said.


    "What if it''s not a Targaryen dragon?" Rhaegar asked. "Valyria is gone, but its descendants are scattered across Essos. Do you know how many dragons the other fallen Dragonlord families might have?"


    It wasn''t that these descendantscked the ability to tame dragons��they just didn''t have the opportunity.


    Aemond''s eyes widened. "So, you''re hunting wild dragons to prevent them from being tamed by exiled dragon families."


    "Not just wild dragons," Rhaegar said seriously. "Any dragon, dragon egg, or even a fossilized dragon egg that falls into someone else''s hands, I will ride Cannibal to retrieve."


    "Have we lost any dragon eggs?" Aemond asked, recalling an old story.


    Rhaegar nodded. "During the time of great-grandfather Jaehaerys, three Dreamfyre''s dragon eggs were lost."


    Back then, Dreamfyre''s rider was Rhaena Targaryen. Her close friend Elissa had stolen Dreamfyre''s dragon eggs, trading them for a ship and gold to start a life of seafaring adventure.


    When Rhaena found out, she executed many Dragonkeepers and informed her brother Jaehaerys. He was furious and spent a fortune trying to recover the eggs, but they were never found.


    Jaehaerys had warned that if any of the dragon eggs hatched, they would have to wage war against whoever possessed them.


    "This matter should be pursued to the end," Aemond dered with conviction.


    "Great-grandfather gave up on this pursuit in hister years, nearly seventy years ago now," Rhaegar replied softly.


    Aemond, worried, said, "It usually takes a hundred years for a dragon egg topletely lose the possibility of hatching."


    "Yes, but father seems to have long forgotten about that," Rhaegar responded, then added with a smile, "Remember my hobby of collecting and offering bounties for ancient relics?"


    Aemond nodded, his disbelief evident.


    Rhaegar blinked and affirmed, "I''m not only collecting ancient relics, I''m also offering bounties for any information about dragons."


    "Really?" Aemond''s eyes widened in astonishment, not realizing how serious his brother Rhaegar was about this.


    Rhaegar patted Aemond''s head andughed. "Some time ago, I dispatched an intelligence organization in Vntis to receive news from Essos at any time."


    Syrio''s role was more than just monitoring Vntis; he was Rhaegar''s eyes and ears on the other side of the Narrow Sea.


    Beyond the hidden danger of the three dragon eggs, the relics of the Dragonlord families had given Rhaegar too much. He was determined to gather as much knowledge about the Dragonlord families as possible to enrich the Targaryen heritage.


    Stunned and shocked, Aemond gazed at his elder brother, an inexplicable admiration shining in his eyes. Far away from the Red Keep''s grudge, he saw his brother as powerful and full of wisdom, someone he could learn much from.


    Rhaegar just smiled. Their father might only know how to organize banquets and martial artspetitions, leaving the ruling of the realm to the Small Council, but Rhaegar knew he had to make ns of his own.


    ...


    The following day:


    "Roar��"


    "Roar..."


    Two distinct dragon roars echoed over Dragonstone Ind. Cannibal, ck as charcoal, surged into the clouds, emitting a terrifying scream.


    On the ck iron saddle, Maris of the Four Storms sat at the center, with her sisters Ellyn and Floris huddled in her arms. All three were tightly fastened with chains for safety. In front of them, a ck-robed Rhaegar sat straddling the ridge with his eyes closed, arms spread wide.


    Having cleared out the nest of Sheepstealer, the brothers departed to return to King''s Landing.


    Trailing far behind Cannibal, the brown y-colored Sheepstealer soared at a cautious distance. On its back, Aemond clung tightly to its chunky back scales, his mouth agape. Behind him, Cassandra held on for dear life, her arms wrapped around his waist and her head buried in a shriek of rm.


    Sheepstealer, a freshly tamed wild dragon, hadn''t yet been fitted with a saddle. Aemond had repeatedly assured Cassandra it could be ridden directly, convincing her to join him in a daring dragon-riding escapade. Now, she regretted it, fearing she might wet her skirt in terror.


    Setting out in the morning, the two dragons crossed ckwater Bay by noon and soared over King''s Landing.


    "Roar��"


    Cannibal circled the city, habitually roaring with its head held high, basking in the gaze of all below. Rhaegar smiled, announcing their return.


    "Roar..."


    Sheepstealer followed, its thieving eyes surveying the city with curiosity. It soared around the tall buildings, its wings stirring the air and causing the bronze bells of the towering church bell tower to chime.


    "Sheepstealer, back to the Dragonpit!" Aemondmanded urgently, his face pale. Along the way, Sheepstealer had deliberately toyed with him, flying erratically and nearly throwing him off several times. He held on with all his might while Cassandra screamed in terror behind him.


    The two dragons circled twice before slowly flying towards Rhaenys''s Hill,nding at the grotto entrance at the back of the Dragonpit.


    The front of the Dragonpit was the Great Hall; the back door led to the crypt hollowed out of the mountain.


    Rhaegar helped the shivering Maris and her sisters off Cannibal''s back, shaking his head. He had suggested they return to King''s Landing by boat, but they insisted on experiencing the thrill of dragon riding. Cannibal, extremely fast, made the mid-air wind a challenge to endure. They fared better than expected.


    Sheepstealer, another adult dragon, was not much slower and could keep pace with Cannibal, who was holding back.


    Aemond slowly climbed down from Sheepstealer, carrying a frozen Cassandra on his back. The Dragonkeeper arrived at the sound, speaking High Valyrian to guide the dragons into their. Cannibal and Sheepstealerplied, barely acknowledging the Dragonkeeper.


    Rhaegar watched with amusement, gaining a more objective understanding of wild dragons.


    Acquered white wheeled carriage approached the Dragonpit. "Vermithor, go forward..."


    As the two dragons entered the pit, Dragonkeepers in rough cloth and linen tapped their bamboo staffs, leading a massive bronze beast forward. The carriage door opened, and out stepped Viserys, dressed in pitch-ck splendor and wearing a crown.

 Chapter 324: King’s Landing Reformation

    Chapter 324: King��s Landing Reformation


    Alicent, dressed in a stunning green gown that entuated her marvelous figure, gracefully stepped out next. Viserys, looking vibrant and full of smiles, assisted his wife as they walked hand in hand.


    They were followed by the Hand of the King, Lyonel, who led a group of royal advisors who descended from the carriage one by one.


    "Ohhh~" Rhaegar raised an eyebrow and stepped forward to greet them.


    "Rhaegar, you rogue, you''ve finally decided to return," Viserys remarked half-jokingly.


    Rhaegarughed and asked, "Father, are you nning to travel by dragon?"


    Seeing Vermithor released suggested more than a simple outing.


    Viserys, adjusting his fine clothes and gently wrapping his arm around Alicent''s waist, responded smugly, "I''ve been invited by Lord Walys of Maidenpool and decided to take Alicent to soak in the Jonquil''s Pool."


    "Soak in the pool?" Rhaegar questioned, eyeing the approaching royal advisers. "Lord Borros is dead, and Storm��s End still needs your attention to settle the matter."


    Taking a closer look at his father, he noticed not just a marked improvement but a vibrant transformation. Viserys, with his straightened posture, silver-golden hair flowing freely, and clean-shaven face, looked revitalized and energetic.


    Viserys, beaming with happiness, exined, "I spoke with your aunt Rhaenys. Aemond is leading a team to escort the Four Storms back to Storm��s End fortress. With Rhaenys''s help, the heir and marriage matters are being handled."


    The cause of Borros''s death remained unresolved, and Lady Elenda left the investigation to her father, Royce Caron. The crucial issues were the marriage alliance between the Targaryen and Baratheon Houses and ensuring Cassandra, Borros''s eldest daughter, inherited Storm��s End Castle.


    Rhaegar, taken aback, could only admire, "Aunt Rhaenys acts swiftly."


    He had anticipated trouble at Storm��s End, but it seemed matters were resolved quietly and efficiently.


    "Of course," Viserys boasted, "back in the day, your aunt was known as The Queen Who Never Was. Her reputation was much greater than mine."


    Viserys, clearly enjoying the moment, instructed, "I''ll be leaving immediately and aim to be soaking in the pool by evening. The Small Council and King''s Landing are in your hands."


    "Father, you know I have a lot to handle in your absence..."


    "Rhaegar, you are my eldest son, the Regent Heir of the Kingdom," Viserys interrupted firmly. "Whatever happens in King''s Landing during my absence is your responsibility. Don''t say you can''t manage."


    Rhaegar frowned slightly, "It''s about the defense of King''s Landing and changes to the Small Council."


    "Still, you are in full charge," Viserys insisted, showing little interest but offering encouragement.


    Rhaegar felt a bit uneasy, ncing sideways at the royal advisers. Lyonel and the others remained silent.


    "They will all assist you. You need to get familiar with these duties in advance," Viserys added, patting his eldest son''s shoulder. Then, with a pleased look, he suddenly mentioned, "And stop wearing ck robes all the time. You''re the Heir. You should dress appropriately."


    Turning to his wife, he said, "Alicent, call Terra."


    Alicent softly called out, and a tall maid emerged from the carriage.


    "Prince," the maid said respectfully, "a set of clothes has been prepared within the carriage."


    Rhaegar, surprised, followed the maid into the carriage.


    A few minutester, Rhaegar changed from his ck robe into a ck tunic adorned with silver ornaments. His short silver-gold hair was smoothed back and tied into a low ponytail with a hair band.


    Viserys, watching him, couldn''t contain his pride. "Look at my boy, much more handsome than mycent brother," he boasted. Having Rhaegar had shown him why Westeros nobles were so keen on having handsome, wise heirs. Just looking at Rhaegar lifted his spirits.


    "Father, you don''t have to go to so much trouble," Rhaegar said, feeling a bit awkward.


    Despite his words, Rhaegar''s noble demeanor made every movement seem natural. He looked good in everything, as Rhaenyra often attested. He preferred his ck robes for their ease of care.


    "Nonsense," Viserys said, smiling. "An heir should look the part. Clothes make the man, just as saddles make the horse."


    With a wave of his hand, Viserys dismissed Rhaegar. "Go on, now. It''s your father''s turn to enjoy life."


    He wrapped his arm around Alicent''s waist and strode towards Vermithor. Alicent looked uneasy and whispered, "Viserys, I really don''t want to ride a dragon."


    "Don''t worry," Viserys reassured her. "Vermithor has a saddle. You''ll be safe."


    He ignored her protests, helping her onto the dragon''s back.


    "Roar!" Vermithor let out a low roar and pped his massive wings, soaring into the air. Viserys'' joyousughter echoed faintly as they flew.


    Rhaegar watched with a frown. "It seems my ascension to the Iron Throne has been dyed by another ten years," he joked to Lyonel.


    Lyonel smiled. "That��s good news. The maester said the king''s wounds are no longer inmed and just need some painkillers."


    "Indeed," Rhaegar agreed. He suspected dragon riding had helped heal his father more than expected, perhaps due to a change in mindset.


    Lyonel spoke up, "Prince, it''s time to depart. The men you requested from Harrenhal are waiting at the Dragon Gate."


    "Let''s go then," Rhaegar nodded. He noticed Aemond and the Four Storms nearby. "Aemond, should we take them back to the Red Keep? The Baratheondies don��t look well."


    Aemond responded casually, "No need. Ser Steffon from the Kingsguard will pick us up soon."


    Rhaegar nced at the pale Cassandra, who was being supported by her sisters. "Are you sure?"


    Aemond, unperturbed, replied, "No problem. I''ll take care of them."


    Rhaegar stared into his brother''s eyes, searching for any sign of insincerity. Aemond''s gaze remained steady.


    After a moment, Rhaegar said, "Make sure to manage everything well. If there''s any issue, contact Dragonpit Maester Maynard."


    With that, Rhaegar boarded the carriage and departed with his advisors.


    As the carriage rolled away, Aemond turned to the Four Storms huddled together. Maris,forting her eldest sister Cassandra, whispered, "We should have gone with Prince Rhaegar."


    "Didn''t I say Ser Stephen will be here soon?" Aemond''s tone was t.


    Maris, frustrated, tried to console her sister. They had already lost Prince Aegon as a potential match and couldn''t afford to upset the more promising Aemond.


    Aemond squatted, resting his chin on his hands. "Rest for a while. There''s some big newsing."


    "What news?" Maris asked, suspecting it might be about Aemond''s choice of a betrothed.


    Aemond shook his head gently. "Trust me, you don''t want to know. Enjoy the peace while itsts."


    ...


    The carriage emerged from the Rhaenys''s Hill, following a straight path toward the towering Dragon Gate, which soon loomed into view. The gate, adorned with a giant carving of a dragon in flight, stood open wide enough for two carriages to pass side by side.


    Swish... Swish...


    A group of soldiers in ck helmets and armor, holding spears and shields, marched through the gate. At a nce, they resembled the Unsullied from Astapor. The soldiers, moving in neat, uniform ranks, numbered in the thousands.


    Leading the soldiers were three high-mounted riders, each distinctively dressed. As the wheeled pce pulled up to the street, Rhaegar lifted the curtains, silently admiring the scene.


    "Prince, are these the Fearless you''ve trained to follow the Unsullied?" Otto inquired, sitting up straight.


    Rhaegar nodded. "This is the initial batch. There are still two thousand left to garrison Harrenhal."


    His time in Harrenhal hadn''t been just for repairs. Harrenhal��s vast fertilends in the Rivends provided an ample pool of recruits. Rhaegar had selected thousands of 13 to 16-year-old boys from poor families with at least one living parent and more than one child. These conditions ensured loyalty and bravery in battle.


    After recruiting a thousand men, it became challenging to find suitable soldiers from the civilians in Harrenhal. Rhaegar then turned his attention to the flea dens of King��s Landing, where countless destitute children could be found.


    Boys of the right age were selected for training, while girls were either assigned as maids in Harrenhal or sent to the Mushroom Set Caravan for handicraft work.


    As long as they were hardworking, they were guaranteed shelter and food. When Flea Bottom ran out of recruits, Rhaegar began taking in strong young ves and war orphans from the crownds and the Vale. These recruits were loyal, eager to train, andpetent fighters.


    Otto, absorbing Rhaegar''s exnation, remained silent but contemtive. Three thousand armored soldiers represented a formidable force anywhere.


    Turning to Lyonel, Rhaegar instructed, "Lord Lyonel, I''ve purchased an area on the StreetofSteelrge enough for three thousand soldiers. You''ll oversee the construction of a barracks there. One thousand Fearless will serve as the garrison for King��s Landing."


    With a poption exceeding hundreds of thousands, the city''sw and order were notoriously chaotic. The existing garrison of two thousand Gold Cloaks was insufficient. Even with the addition of the Dragonkeepers from the Dragonpit and the Kingsguard from the Red Keep, more was needed. The Gold Cloaks camped on Silk Street in the east, so the new garrison on Steel Street in the west would help secure the city from both sides, protecting the Red Keep.


    Lyonel nodded. "Prince, I know that area. It��s just west of the Alchemists'' Guild."


    "Exactly," Rhaegar mused. "Since the wildfire incident at the Battle of Harrenhal, many chatans in the city im to be Alchemists. The Fearless can keep an eye on them."


    With arrangements for the Fearless in ce, Rhaegar nced back at the soldiers on the street. The three leading riders caught his eye. Two were d in armor, riding confidently. The third, in rough linen, had curly brown hair and a pale face. On his shoulders perched a white falcon and a ck crow.


    Rhaegar��s lips curled into a smile. "Tormund, you��re hopeless on a horse. Join us in the carriage."

 Chapter 325: Master of Whisperers

    Chapter 325: Master of Whisperers


    Tormund nced back from his horse with an involuntary smile. Dismounting smoothly, he walked straight to the spacious carriage.


    Rhaegar opened the carriage door and asked, "How are things at Harrenhal?"


    "Not bad. The construction is nearlyplete. Maester Tru has gone to Oldtown with a letter of rmendation," Tormund replied crisply as he stepped onto the short stool provided by the coachman.


    Upon entering the carriage, Tormund was struck by thevishness of the interior. He looked around at the circle of royal advisers and greeted them politely, "I hope my presence hasn''t disturbed you, my lords."


    "A young man who understands manners," Lyman remarked, nodding gently while nibbling on a cookie and sipping his tea.


    Tormund felt a pair of dim old eyes scrutinizing him. Bing a member of the Small Council meant even an old man with gray hair had significant influence.


    This scene did not escape Rhaegar��s notice. He poured two cups of sweet fruit wine. Tormund, still standing at the entrance, had to stoop slightly due to the low ceiling, maintaining a polite smile.


    Lyonel, Otto, and Jasper observed him critically, assuming he was one of the Heir''s close friends, not yet worthy of directmunication with them.


    The sound of wine being poured drew their attention. Rhaegar ced one of the sses with a thud in front of Lyonel. The carriage was spacious, and the royal advisers sat casually. Rhaegar sat on a soft cushion to the left, with the impably dressed Otto to his right, and the nervous Jasper further in. Lyman, a highly respected elder, sat alone in a soft corner next to Jasper. Hand of the King Lyonel sat across from Rhaegar.


    Lyonel''s eyes sharpened as he noticed the ss of wine ced near him. Rhaegar feigned surprise and gestured to the seat next to Lyonel, saying, "What are you waiting for? Sit next to Lord Lyonel."


    "Thank you, Prince," Tormund said, raising an eyebrow. He took his seat gracefully, picked up the wine, and took a light sip.


    Rhaegar smiled, raising his own ss in a toast. The two young men drank together,pletely disregarding the opinions of the royal advisers.


    Lyonel''s brows furrowed as he shifted in his seat, his expression growing serious. Letting a young man sit beside him and sharing a drink with the Heir suggested a significant gesture. It implied that Tormund might be considered equal to him, the Hand of the King, in the future.


    The political significance of this move did not escape the notice of the seasoned royal advisers.


    Without waiting for Lyonel to speak, Lyman wiped cookie crumbs from his mouth and asked knowingly, "Prince, you haven''t introduced this...young man."


    Rhaegar put down his wine, nced around at the royal advisers, andughed softly. "Tormund, my best friend since childhood. He''s the bastard son of Lord Bartimos of w Isle and a Skinchanger."


    "A bastard son and a rare Skinchanger?" Lyman remarked, noticing the white falcon and ck raven on Tormund''s shoulders. In Westeros, bastards were frowned upon, and Skinchangers, with their supernatural powers, were often seen as dangerous.


    It is rumored that there are many skinchangers among the wildlings beyond the Wall in the north.


    King Jaehaerys had also ridden Vermithor alongside the Night''s Watch and defeated an army of wildlings made up of giants and skinchangers.


    "It''s true," Tormund said calmly. "My father doesn''t care if I live or die, so it''s best you regard me as amoner."


    "I recall you once had only a white falcon?" Lyonel asked politely. The two had known each other since the Harrenhal exchanges.


    In recent years, Tormund managed the Mushroom Set, and he''s known as the White Falcon kept by the Heir.


    Rhaegar also looked at Tormund with some curiosity.


    Skinchangers could usually only possess one animal, and Tormund was no different.


    Tormund nodded, exining, "A few days ago, I took over Maester Tru''s ravens, and I unknowingly bonded with one of them."


    "That''s good news," Rhaegar said thoughtfully, considering the recent increase in magic power triggered by the redet.


    Otto interjected seriously, "Prince, this Skinchanger is your spokesperson in the Rivends. What are your ns for transferring him to King''s Landing?"


    Rhaegar didn''t hesitate. "The death of Lord Borros is too strange. The royal family and Storm��s End Castle haven''t found any leads. The Iron Thronecks sufficient intelligence."


    "Prince," Lyonel began, "the king runs King''s Landing''s intelligence and has never extended beyond the royal domain."


    Rhaegar smiled, "Lord Lyonel, I don''t question your ability. Your contributions are clear."


    Lyonel''s face eased. "Then you want to re-establish awork of spiders?"


    "No," Rhaegar shook his head. "I want to reactivate the position of Master of Whisperers, specializing in intelligence for the Iron Throne."


    Lyonel was astonished. "Prince, the Master of Whisperers sits on the Small Council. It''s a controversial position."


    "Too much disturbing intelligence can corrupt a lord''s impartiality," Lyman added.


    It''s been over seventy years since they had a Master of Whisperers. Thest was under Maegor I and was his mistress, known asTyanna of Pentos, andmitted heinous crimes.


    Rhaegar''s face was solemn. "Father has entrusted me with the regency. The Master of Whisperers must be reactivated. This isn''t up for debate."


    "Prince..." Lyman began to protest.


    "Lord Lyman," Rhaegar interrupted, "You don''t need to worry, the Master of Whisperers will only oversee sinister activities."


    Turning to Tormund, he announced, "I now appoint Tormund as Master of Whisperers, with a seat on the Small Council."


    The royal advisors exchanged nces, stunned into silence; the king used to consult them on all matters, but the king had only been gone a day, and already the heir was making significant changes.


    Tormund, feeling the tension, smiled awkwardly. "My lords, we will be colleagues from now on."


    For a moment, dead silence hung in the air.


    Otto shook his head, a faint smile ying on his lips, and broke the ice. "I''ve heard about you. You participated in the Second Battle of the Stepstones."


    "Yes, one must serve one''s realm in many ways," Tormund replied frankly. He extended his hand with a warm smile, "Lord Otto, you are a loyal and good adviser. I have long considered you a friend."


    Interestingly, Tormund extended his left hand, while his right hand gently stroked the white falcon perched on his shoulder.


    Otto''s eyes narrowed, and his smile grew more calcted. He was a right-handed man, known for writing and working predominantly with his right hand. However, few knew that in his youth, he had trained himself to use both hands equally to better facilitate his schrly pursuits.


    "Is something wrong?" Tormund asked, his facial features soft and his smile seemingly innocent.


    Otto stared coldly at him, losing all interest in continuing the conversation. The so-called long-time friendship was likely just a cover for Tormund''s Skinchanger abilities, which had probably been used to monitor him for years.


    The atmosphere grew tense as the new master and the old master struggled to connect.


    Rhaegar paid little attention to the awkward exchange and promptly ordered the carriage driver, "Return to the Red Keep!"


    He remembered Rhaenyra''s advice about hisck of roots in the Small Council. As he grew older and expanded his influence, he aimed to reverse this situation.


    Master of Ships Tnd was no less cunning than Otto. After the Battle of the Stepstones, Tnd''s ims to glory were stripped away, leaving him out of the Small Council for three years. During this time, Rhaegar honed his skills.


    Grand Maester Mellos was a sycophant who adjusted his loyalty based on the prevailing winds. Rhaegar was just biding his time to remove him.


    To dilute the power of the Small Council, Rhaegar had also created the position of Master of Dragons to strengthen the Targaryen House sense of unity.


    Now, as the Regent, Rhaegar was determined to pick up the pieces. The appointment of a new Master of Whisperers was just the beginning.


    ...


    About half an hourter, the carriage pulled into the gates of the Red Keep.


    Three silver-armored, white-robed Kingsguards stood in a line, greeting them respectfully.


    Rhaegar was the first to step down from the carriage, his gaze directed towards the gates. There, alongside two young knights on warhorses, stood Grey Worm, his expression solemn, nked by ten Unsullied with upright postures.


    "Prince..."


    The two knights dismounted, removing their helmets to reveal familiar faces: Lord of Stone Mill, Robb Rivers, and Lord of Raventree Hall, Samwell ckwood.


    Rhaegar greeted them warmly before turning to Grey Worm. "How many Unsullied captains remain in the army?"


    "Ten," Grey Worm replied sinctly.


    Rhaegar pondered for a moment and nodded. Hemanded over four hundred Unsullied, primarily his personal guards, with a small contingent assigned as basicmanders in the Fearless Legion. Ten Unsullied captains were sufficient to manage a thousand Fearless.


    Grey Worm continued, "Three hundred Unsullied remain in Harrenhal. Two thousand Fearless are managed by my lieutenants, Vandel and Red Worm."


    Rhaegar patted his shoulder, showing his trust, before turning his attention to the three Kingsguards. The Unsullied''s loyalty was unquestionable, and he had great confidence in Grey Worm''s leadership.


    As the royal advisers disembarked from the carriage and headed to their quarters, Rhaegar softly said, "Lord Lyonel, wait a moment. I have something to discuss with you in private."


    Lyonel was slightly taken aback but stood aside with Tormund in silence.


    The three Kingsguards approached, bowing respectfully. "Prince."


    Rhaegar smiled and nodded to each of them. The Kingsguard was the King''s private guard and held the highest honor. Erryk Cargyll had been promoted to Commander of the Kingsguard and was assigned to guard the King, while his brother, Arryk Cargyll, was assigned to guard the Queen, Alicent.


    With the king traveling to Maidenpool, the Cargyll brothers had led the guard of honor two days in advance, exining their absence from the Red Keep.

 Chapter 326: Trial of Larys

    Chapter 326: Trial of Larys


    In addition to the Cargyll brothers, there were four other current members of the Kingsguard.


    Ser Steffon Darklyn had gone to greet Aemond and the Four Storms, likely at the Dragonpit at the moment. Ser Steffon hailed from the Darklyn House of the Crownds and was the uncle of the Lord of Duskendale.


    Having served as a Kingsguard for many years, his thinning brown curls and narrow eye corners gave him an aged appearance. He was known for his hardworking nature and a strong sense of justice, traits that Rhaegar deeply admired.


    Present before Rhaegar were the three remaining Kingsguard members:


    Ser Lorent Marbrand, from House Marbrand of Ashemark of the Westends, stood tall and bald with a resolute face. Known for his strict demeanor and sharp swordsmanship, he was a figure of discipline.


    Ser Rickard Thorne, from a small family in the Crownds, had a lean build, thick eyebrows, and a pugnacious aura. His martial prowess was matched by his rough yet generous personality.


    Ser Willis Fell of Felwood in the Stornds was a typical Stornd man-strong, rugged, and with keen, piercing eyes. He was a loner, not inclined to muchmunication.


    Rhaegar was less familiar with these three Kingsguards, their interactions having been minimal.


    "Ser Lorent, please summon themander of the royal guard," Rhaegar requested, choosing Lorent for his impable demeanor.


    "Yes, Prince," Lorent responded solemnly.


    As Lorent left, Rhaegar nced at Robb and Samwell, a flicker of thought crossing his eyes. Ever since Criston Cole had stepped down as Commander of the Kingsguard, there had been a vacancy among the seven main Kingsguard, and his father had been dying the selection.


    There was a suspicion among the council that the king hoped for Cole''s return, but after a few proposals, the topic had been set aside.


    Lorent soon returned, apanied by a handsome young man with a disheveled cloak.


    "Greetings, Prince," the young man said, the smell of wine evident on his breath.


    Rhaegar''s lips curled into a smile. "You''re on duty today, aren''t you?"


    "I..."


    "He organized his subordinates for a drinking session and was just pulled out by me," Lorent interjected, his contempt clear.


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but smile, nodding as he said, "Very well, as amander of the royal guard, you really set a fine example."


    Stepping back, he casually pped his hands.


    Swish��


    With a swift motion, Robb, who had been waiting nearby, drew his sword and stepped forward, decapitating the handsome young man with a single, clean stroke. The headless body copsed to the ground, blood spurting from the severed neck.


    Lyonel and the three Kingsguard onlookers were stunned, not expecting such decisive action from the Heir.


    Rhaegar bent down, retrieved a badge depicting a sword-crossed shield from the corpse''s chest, and tossed it to Robb with disdain. "Inform Lord Rnd that his nephew died defending the Red Keep from thieves, and that Lord Robb of Stone Mill is now themander of the royal escort."


    Lord Rnd Westerling, the Lord of Crag in the West, was Jason Lannister''s father-inw. His cousin, the former Kingsguard Commander Harold Westerling, had rmended his nephew for the position.


    Rhaegar waved dismissively and called Samwell to stand before the three Kingsguard. "The Kingsguard is short one man. I rmend three candidates, and he is one of them."


    Lorent frowned with concern. "To serve in the Kingsguard, one must give up their fiefs, titles, and cannot have heirs."


    He knew Samwell, the young lord of Raventree Hall from the prominent ckwood House of the Rivends.


    Rhaegar remained silent, patting Samwell on the shoulder.


    Samwell spoke earnestly, "My son is already two years old and can be cared for by my sister. If I am chosen for the Kingsguard, I will be honored to take the oath."


    Rhaegar continued, "Joffrey Grafton of Gulltown and Ser Wim Royce of Runestone are also my rmended candidates. They will arrive at the Red Keep for the selection process overseen by the Small Council."


    The implication was clear: the selection would be fair, with no favoritism. Rhaegar did not expect all three to be chosen for the Kingsguard; they could serve him best in their own territories.


    Leaving Robb and Samwell behind, Rhaegar departed with Tormund, Lyonel, and Grey Worm. Before leaving, he reminded Robb, "Carefully select the members of the Royal Guard and expand the number from three hundred to five hundred."


    The Royal Guard, originally a ceremonial and patrol force, had gradually evolved, incorporating more than a hundred Dragonkeepers over time. With Rhaegar in King''s Landing, it was time for necessary reforms.


    ...


    Godswood Forest


    Rhaegar stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the crimson leaves of the ancient godswood tree. Lyonel and Tormund waited patiently beside him, nking him on either side.


    Momentster, the back door of the Maegor''s Holdfast swung open, and two Unsullied soldiers emerged, dragging a staggering figure between them.


    Lyonel turned, his eyes widening in shock. "Larys?"


    Larys, his curly hair disheveled and his feet dragging in oversized boots, was being roughly manhandled by the Unsullied.


    Lyonel looked at Rhaegar in disbelief. "Prince, what crime has Larysmitted to warrant this treatment?"


    Rhaegar turned, his expression imploring. "Lord Lyonel, you really noticed nothing?"


    "Larys is an Inquisitor!" Lyonel protested, his voice rising. "What offense could he havemitted?"


    Grey Worm and the Unsullied had formed a perimeter around the Godswood, ensuring their conversation remained private.


    "Lord Lyonel, let''s discuss this calmly," Tormund interjected, ncing at the Unsullied. "You wouldn''t want this to be public knowledge."


    Realization dawned on Lyonel''s face as he understood the gravity of the situation.


    The Unsullied dragged Larys to the base of the weirwood and threw him to the ground like a ragdoll.


    Larys fell with a thud, a bleeding bruise on his mouth. He tried to rise but was kicked back down by the Unsullied.


    "Ah! ..." Larys groaned in agony, curling up on the ground.


    Rhaegar looked at him coldly. "Larys, you must know why you''re here."


    Larys, beads of sweat on his forehead, stammered, "I''m sorry, Prince. I''m not good at guessing riddles."


    "Borros Baratheon��s death was no ident," Rhaegar said icily. "You had a significant hand in it."


    Before Larys could respond, Lyonel''s face went pale, and he began to protest. "Prince ..."


    Rhaegar cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Lord Lyonel, I have evidence."


    He signaled for the Unsullied toe forward, their presence adding weight to his words.


    ttering...


    An Unsullied soldier emptied a sack, spilling an assortment of bottles and jars across the ground.


    Rhaegar picked up a ss bottle containing a purple potion, his voice deep and authoritative. "Sweetsleep, a sedative potion produced by Lys'' Specialties. A single drop can calm a raging bull."


    Larys hung his head low, his voice subdued. "I''m an Inquisitor. The sedative is for keeping prisoners under control during interrogations."


    "A usible excuse," Rhaegar replied indifferently. He then picked up a porcin vial filled with a creamy ointment. "This one is from Myr, typically used by brothel clients to prolong their encounters. However, it can suffocate when applied to the throat."


    "Prince, these potions are meant to aid in interrogations," Larys insisted, attempting to maintain his innocence.


    Rhaegar''s voice turned methodical. "Lady Elenda''s letter describes Lord Borros''s death in a manner simr to my grandfather, Prince Baelon."


    Larys''s eyes widened, and he recoiled slightly.


    "Coincidentally, I''ve seen a simr death," Rhaegar continued, his gaze piercing. "At the end of the Battle of the Stepstones, Ser Vaemond of House Vryon died of bloating, caused by the Tears of Lys, a poison used by the Triarchy."


    Few poisons in the world could kill so discreetly, and the Tears of Lys had long been infamous.


    "Lord Borros died from the Tears of Lys, and I had nothing to do with it," Larys croaked, his eyes avoiding Rhaegar''s.


    "The potions here are non-toxic and not enough to convict you," Rhaegar admitted. "But how do you exin the extensive smuggling dealings with Myr, Lys, Pentos, and other ces?"


    Larys''s face darkened as if recalling something incriminating.


    Tormund pulled out a slip of paper and began to read. "Larys Strong, you have repeatedly engaged in smuggling over several years... You have privately interrogated and tortured death row inmates to death... You bought children from Flea Bottom to use as informants and invested in an underground fighting ring, exploiting children''s to curry favor with certain kind of adults."


    Rhaegar turned to Lyonel, whose face was grim. "Smuggling, lynching, murder, and child trafficking��are these crimes deserving of hanging or beheading?"


    Larys was known for his dark heart and cruel methods. Even if they couldn''t prove he had murdered Borros, there was enough evidence to ensure his execution.


    Rhaegar didn''t need proof of Larys''s guilt. In King''s Landing, many "lords" were equally corrupt; few were truly clean.


    "Larys, you bastard! What heinous acts have youmitted behind my back?" Lyonel exploded, stepping forward and kicking his son in the chest, his voice a furious roar.

 Chapter 327: Turn Aegon Into a Girl?

    Chapter 327: Turn Aegon Into a Girl?


    Lyonel lived up to his Strong surname, his bloated figure bursting with tremendous force as he delivered a powerful kick.


    With a sickening crack, Larys crumpled to the ground, his bodynding with a lightness that belied the force behind the blow.


    "Cough... cough..." Larys''s face turned as white as a sheet, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.


    "Disloyalson, how many sins have youmitted? Did you have anything to do with Lord Borros''s death?" Lyonel wasn''t done yet. He grabbed Larys by the cor, lifting his second son with one hand, his eyes cold and bloodshot with fury.


    Lyonel was on the brink of exploding with anger. As the Hand of the King, his second son''swbreaking was a direct affront to House Strong.


    Crack! Crack! Lyonel pped Larys hard, shaking him violently. "You''ve shamed your role as a royal inquisitor! How can you stand up to the King''s trust?"


    He wanted to question if his son had ever considered the family''s honor but doubted the conscience of someone who hadmitted so many crimes.


    "Ahem, I was just doing a job for someone. What crime could I havemitted?" Larys coughed up blood, his eyes dark and defiant.


    Even now, he refused to acknowledge his guilt. In his mind, everything he did was forced upon him.


    Lyonel''s face darkened as he released his grip, disappointed. "Larys, when did your heart rot and stink?"


    He had expected his son to confess and beg for forgiveness. Instead, Larys yed the victim.


    "Oh, if you could look me in the eye, with your wisdom, you should have seen this ending," Larysughed bitterly.


    "Seven hells!" Lyonel sighed in pain. "Prince, Larys hasmitted a felony. How do you wish to proceed?"


    He had to redeem his house''s honor.


    Rhaegar watched, his expression serious. "Thew will judge him."


    Larys''s existing charges were enough to warrant execution many times over.


    "Will it be referred to the Small Council for trial?" Lyonel asked ruefully.


    Rhaegar shook his head. "There''s no need. The reason I called you here today is to deal with him discreetly and preserve the honor of the royal family and House Strong."


    Lyonel nodded, defeated. "Thank you, Prince."


    He understood the necessity of handling Larys privately to protect the family''s reputation.


    Larys coughed up a mouthful of bloody phlegm andughed miserably, "Can I apply for a trial bybat?"


    "What do you think?" Rhaegar replied indifferently.


    Larys turned his head to his father, his eyes pleading like a chastised child.


    Lyonel grimaced and clenched his teeth. "Don''t even think about it. No one will fight for you, least of all Harwin."


    He knew his second son''s intentions. Harwin, his eldest, was the strongest and could potentially win a trial bybat.


    At that moment, Rhaegar signaled to Grey Worm and silently turned away.


    Grey Worm approached, raising his spear with a steely expression.


    "Wait, I have one more thing to say," Larys stammered, struggling to back away.


    Rhaegar gazed out over the lush canopy of the Godswood, ignoring him.


    He had no interest in the pleas of a dying man.


    As Grey Worm drew closer, spear aimed at his heart, Larys''s voice wavered, "Prince, some things are like broken ss. I''m just the one picking up the pieces, but broken ss is always broken."


    He was stating the truth; he was a conspirator, but there had to be an opportunity for him to act.


    Rhaegar remained silent.


    Grey Worm stepped closer, his spear ready for the kill. "Farewell."


    "No, no, no..." Larys shuddered and swallowed. "I don''t want to die yet. I''m applying for Brother of the Night''s Watch."


    Lyonel stepped in and grabbed Grey Worm''s spear. "Prince, every prisoner has the right to go to the Wall to atone for his sins."


    He softened at the critical moment.


    Rhaegar turned and looked at Larys'' limp foot. "It will be difficult for you to survive even if you reach the Wall."


    "Then please cut off my limp."


    Larys'' eyes closed tightly, his voice depressed. "It dragged me down for the first half of my life. At least let me be free of it for the second half."


    Rhaegar watched him, his mind racing. To be fair, he wanted to kill him right now. But Lyonel''s pleading eyes offered a chance for loyalty.


    "Hold him."


    Rhaegar unsped Truefyre at his waist, gripping the hilt of his keeled sword, and handed the ebony scabbard to Lyonel.


    "Prince?" Lyonel held the scabbard, puzzled.


    Swish��


    Rhaegar drew his sword violently, the de shining with a silky ebony light.


    He swung down at Larys''s limp leg.


    Crack...


    The sound of breaking bones echoed, and Larys couldn''t suppress a miserable scream. His calf was severed cleanly from the pate.


    Rhaegar twirled his sword, shaking off the blood, and said indifferently, "Bandage him up, and select a group of criminals to escort him to the Wall."


    With that, Rhaegar handed Truefyre to Tormund and turned to leave.


    Larys could still serve a purpose; he would ensure he died reasonably along the way.


    Grey Worm nodded and ordered two Unsullied to drag the wailing Larys away.


    Lyonel''s face was ashen as he fell to his knees before the weirwood, praying to the old gods.


    ...


    Meanwhile


    Inside one of the Red Keep''s bedrooms, the girls cried out in grief.


    Outside the door, Aemond lowered his eyes and walked away in silence.


    The news of Borros'' death finally reached the Four Storms. They huddled together, breaking down in tears.


    Aemond had no interest inforting them; he had business to attend to.


    Dismissing his squire, Aemond exited the Maegor''s Holdfast alone and made his way to the stables.


    In the hayloft where horse manure was piled up, two tattered, thin men waited nervously.


    "Have you thought it over?" Aemond scrutinized them.


    The two men nodded repeatedly, fawning. "All at yourmand, Prince."


    "Follow me."


    Without further ado, Aemond avoided the sight of bystanders and led the two men into the Red Keep.


    ...


    On the Other Side


    Aegony in his bedchamber, panting. Under the thin quilt, he was unclothed, cradling a plump woman in his arms.


    He had spent the night at a brothel on Silk Street and had brought a prostitute back through a secret passage to continue his debauchery.


    Click-click...


    As noon approached, the room''s door knob gently turned from the outside.


    Two ugly-looking men sneaked into the room, approaching the drunken boy on the bed.


    "Gulp..."


    One of the men swallowed, his triangr eyes revealing a ferocious light.


    Raising his head, he exchanged a nce with hispanion, their eyes filled with the desire for money.


    Together, they raised their hands and brought them down forcefully.


    "Oooooooo..."


    Aegon shrieked and struggled, suddenly realizing that his hands were tied to the bed with twine, and his mouth was covered by arge, dirty hand.


    "Ah..."


    The whore woke up to the sound and was about to scream when her mouth was covered. A trembling voice whispered, "Be good and obey, it will better for everyone that way."


    The whore nodded in fear and closed her eyes, not daring to look away.


    One man ripped the sheet, gagged her, and threw her to the floor.


    "Who are you and what do you want!?"


    Aegon screamed indistinctly through his gag.


    Bang��


    The door to the room mmed heavily, drawing everyone''s attention.


    Aegon struggled to see a bemused Aemond standing in the doorway.


    "Run, go get the guards to save me..."


    Aegon''s eyes erupted with hope as he cried out wildly in excitement.


    With a gentle pace, Aemond calmly said, "Aegon, you owe me an apology, and I told you I would make you pay."


    Aegon froze at his words, giving up his struggle, and stared incredulously at Aemond.


    Suddenly, he realized that this brother was unfamiliar to him.


    "Don''t look at me like that. I''m about to leave, and we need to finish this before I go."


    Aemond''s face was expressionless as he sat on the edge of the bed.


    The Four Storms knew of their father''s death, and once the saddle was ready for Sheepstealer, he would have to travel to Storm��s End to finalize the marriage contract.


    Aegon struggled to his feet, ring at his brother, a muffled whimper escaping his covered mouth. The curses were clear despite the gag.


    "Remove your hands, I need to hear what he''s saying," Aemond said, ignoring the man covering Aegon''s mouth, his tone a poor imitation of Rhaegar''s.


    As the dirty hand moved away, Aegon took a deep breath and cursed, "Aemond, if you dare to mess with me, I''ll break your legs!"


    "Aegon, you really don''t get it," Aemond replied calmly. He waved his hand, and the two men holding Aegon acted swiftly, pulling the thin quilt off his face and pinning his legs apart.


    "Bastard, let go of me! What do you want?" Aegon shouted, kicking furiously.


    Aemond''s eyes were icy as he silently drew a cold, gleaming dagger from his waist. "Apologize, or I''ll chop off one of your legs," he whispered, pressing the dagger against Aegon''s crotch.


    "No!!!" Aegon screamed in terror, the cold de against his skin making him freeze in ce, too scared to move.


    Aemond ignored his brother''s pleas, circling the dagger menacingly. "Aegon, sometimes I envy you. Mother always gives you the best."


    "Aemond, let me go, and I''ll forget this ever happened!" Aegon pleaded, his voice trembling.


    Aemond''s eyes darkened as he poked the dagger slightly. "Rhaenyra has Rhaegar, mother left Hena to you, and Daeron and I are stuck into marrying other women."


    "I don''t want to marry that idiot! You can have her!" Aegon''s heart pounded, sensing the seriousness in Aemond''s voice.


    Shaking his head, Aemond''s voice was low, "Aegon, do you think it''ll be better if I turn you into a girl?"


    Turn him into a girl? Damn it, the other party really wanted to cut off his little brother.


    Aegon stiffened, cold sweat pouring out as he realized Aemond was serious. "Have you lost your mind?"


    Aemond''s gaze hardened, and the dagger came down.


    "No! I was wrong, I apologize!" Aegon screamed, closing his eyes and begging frantically.


    Aegon was so frightened that he hastily closed his eyes and begged for forgiveness with his mouth open.


    He couldn''t lose his little brother, any more than the Targaryens could lose their dragons.


    The sharp de stabbed into the bed beside Aegon, not him. Aegon fainted from the shock.


    Aemondughed maniacally, pulling the dagger out and watching as snow-white feathers drifted from the cut bed. "That''s all the guts you''ve got, dear brother!"


    He wasn''t actually insane; he knew that cutting off Aegon''s manhood wouldn''t turn him into a girl. Even if it did, Aemond had no interest in marrying a sister with a beer belly.


    Afterughing for a while, his stomach hurting, Aemond copsed onto the bed, waving dismissively at the two men. "Get out. I''ll hide the money bag in the stables."


    "Thank you for your generosity, Prince," the men said, eager to collect their reward.


    Aemondy back, resting his head on Aegon''sp, savoring the sweet feeling of revenge.

 Chapter 328: Young Dragons Hatchilings – Moondancer and Morning

    Chapter 328: Young Dragons Hatchilings �C Moondancer and Morning


    Creak-


    The door to the room closed from the outside. Aemond walked briskly down the hall, a smug look on his face.


    Aegon had woken up, but instead of screaming in pain or cursing as expected, he sat quietly against the bed, lost in some inexplicable contemtion.


    Bored with theck of reaction, Aemond decided to slip out and head for the Dragonpit.


    As for possible consequences, would there be any punishment? Aemond''s footsteps slowed momentarily as he looked back with disdain. He thought to himself, "I have dragons, and my father and mother aren''t in King''s Landing. Who cane and punish me?"


    ...


    "Kid, you think you can escape? Obediently ept your punishment!"


    The corner of Rhaegar''s mouth curled into a cold smile, his tone full of menace.


    The sun had not yet set, and the fiery clouds of dusk painted the sky like summer saffron, creating a dramatic backdrop for the moment.


    Aemond, with a forlorn expression, stared dazedly at his older brother. He hadn''t even managed to slip out of the Red Keep before being captured by the arriving Kingsguard.


    "Teaching Aegon a lesson and running to the Dragonpit for refuge��are you underestimating me?" Rhaegar folded his arms across his chest and stared at his younger brother, who was hanging upside down from the gallows.


    Three new gallows stood in the front garden of the Red Keep, side by side. It was a gathering ce, bustling with people, and a group of onlookers whispered about the situation.


    Aemond''s face was pale, his feet tied with rope and his body hanging in the air between two stiff corpses in tattered clothes.


    Rhaegar leaned in and cupped Aemond''s chin, turning his face towards each of the corpses. "Look at them. They''re dead because of you. How does that feel?"


    "It''s a shame I have no one to spend my hard-earned bag of gold dragons on," Aemond muttered, his face flushing with embarrassment and regret over his lost money bag.


    Smack��


    Rhaegar pped him on the head. "Your money bag and the gold in it are confiscated," he dered.


    "Aegon snitched?" Aemond winced in pain.


    "It wasn''t him. If it were, you wouldn''t even have made it to the secret passage."


    Rhaegar shook his head, gripping Aemond''s chin firmly. "Teaching Aegon a lesson is one thing. I''d even enjoy seeing you knock his sword away and pin him down with your fists."


    Aemond stayed silent, eyes wide.


    Smack��


    Another p. "But you''re a coward. You hired two brutes to sneak up on Aegon, resorting to disgraceful tactics."


    Rhaegar''s disappointment was palpable. He couldn''t believe that Aemond would have the audacity to scheme in the Red Keep and buy his way out of trouble.


    "I... oooo..." Aemond tried to speak, but a piece of rag torn from a corpse was shoved into his mouth.


    Rhaegar stood and wiped his hands in disgust. "Prince, what should be done?" Lorent, the Kingsguard, stood ready, his bald head and piercing eyes a perfect match.


    Rhaegar shoved Aemond, spinning him in the air. "Hang him until this time tomorrow. Give him water at intervals."


    "Oooh, I have to pee..." Aemond iled, mumbling through the gag.


    Lorent looked to Rhaegar for guidance.


    Rhaegar rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Water isn''t necessary. He can take care of it himself."


    ...


    Time flew by, and a week passed.


    In the meeting hall of the Maegor''s Holdfast, Rhaegar sat at the head of the table, dressed in in white, diligently filling out a list with a feather quill.


    The table, emitting a pleasant woodsy fragrance, had a round porcin te in its center, holding six stone balls of different colors, indicating a recently concluded meeting involving six people.


    Tap... Tap...


    Rhythmic footsteps echoed from the corridor, and a delicate figure appeared at the open door.


    "Rhaegar, the meeting is over."


    Rhaenyra leaned on the doorframe, her tone carrying a hint of dissatisfaction. She wore a ck corseted dress robe, delicate light makeup, and her soft silver hair was pulled back, giving her a noble andpetent demeanor.


    Rhaegar paused his writing, ruffling the silver-gold hair covering his eyes, and yfully said, "Believe me, I''m not staying here by choice."


    "So, official duties tied your hands and feet and refused to let you travel with me on a dragon?" Rhaenyra grimaced, ring at Steffon and Lorent, who were guarding the doorway.


    The two Kingsguard nodded in unison, knowing their ce and silently retreating.


    Without the presence of outsiders, Rhaenyra''s anger red. She approached aggressively, "Rhaegar, don''t you realize we haven''t seen each other for four days?"


    "Uh..."


    Rhaegar blinked, innocently replying, "But I feel like you''ve been by my side."


    "Cut the crap!"


    Rhaenyra red at him, casually picking up a few pieces of unsealed letter paper on the table and skimming through them. Though she wasn''t skilled in governance, she feared bing irrelevant if she didn''t help her brother.


    Rhaegar continued writing, a slight smile on his lips, "No need to look, that one is a letter from the Oldtown Citadel. They''re electing a new Grand Maester."


    With the death of Mellos, the court needed a new Grand Maester.


    "You just talk a lot." Rhaenyra gritted her teeth and stomped on his foot.


    Rhaegar grunted in pain and obediently shut up.


    Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and continued reading the letter. The Citadel''s election list had Orwyle as the top candidate, followed by several knowledgeable old-timers. Additionally, to make amends for Mellos''s dereliction, the Citadel proposed appointing a young maester as the history recorder, splitting some of the Grand Maester''s authority.


    Rhaenyra frowned, puzzled, "A separate recorder? Why does that feel odd?"


    Without looking up, Rhaegar responded, "The Citadel fears our family''s dragons. Orwyle won��t obey them; it''s just a pretext."


    The clumsy tactic was infuriating. If the Citadel weren''t so influential and essential to the nobles of Westeros, Rhaegar would have ridden Cannibal and incinerated it with Dragonfire.


    Rhaenyra raised her eyes in surprise, a flicker of admiration in them. She had to admit, their father''s foresight wasn''t wrong; Rhaegar had always been more politically astute than her.


    Seemingly thinking of something amusing, Rhaenyra pursed her lips and snickered, switching to another letter. Traveling by dragon might be difficult, so she decided to stay and assist with political affairs.


    A nce at the sender revealed the signature: "Syrio Friar."


    Rhaegar swished his pen and said, "The letter confirms that Daemon is indeed plundering ships in the Stepstones Inds and is suspected of trying to provoke a war."


    After a moment of thought, he added, "Look at the next one. It��s from a red priestess of Vntis, describing the legend of the Red Comet. She requests permission to cross the Narrow Sea to spread the beliefs of R��hllor in Westeros."


    He vaguely guessed Daemon''s intention to use the war to seize territory beyond the Narrow Sea. It wasn��t a bad idea, but the timing was crucial. He would advise his father to warn their uncle when time allowed.


    The red priestess''s letter had some intriguing points. It rified that the red meteor, known as the Red Comet, could induce fluctuations in magical tides.


    ording to her, theet appeared once every few hundred years. Thest time it did, it was before the Doom. This time, its appearance was causing unstable magical tides, sometimes raging, sometimes calm.


    The priestess advised him to prepare and to ept the faith of R��hllor, suggesting that kingship and divinity should work together to handle the impending unknown.


    Rhaenyra, intrigued, read the letter carefully, her violet eyes reflecting her concern. She didn��t fully grasp terms like redets and magical tides but knew that magic was tied to dragons. When magic was strong, dragons thrived; when it waned, dragons perished.


    "We can''t let R��hllor''s faith spread in Westeros. It''s too dangerous," Rhaenyra said, feeling uneasy.


    "I refused her request but agreed that Syrio could bring her around Westeros," Rhaegar replied. He didn''t trust the predictions of the red-robed priest or the knowledge of the tides from a lesser-learned red priestess. However, discussions could lead to valuable exchanges of knowledge about magical tides.


    "Well done." Rhaenyra smiled approvingly.


    Rhaegarughed and closed thest page of his list, eximing, "Thest one!"


    He pushed his chair back with a creak, leaned backzily, and asked casually, "How''s Aemond?"


    "He left this morning. He was waiting for you to see him off, not realizing that someone had been buried in his office," Rhaenyra replied, picking up the list she had just filled out and gloating.


    Rhaegar nodded, propping his legs onto the conference table and closing his eyes in feigned sleep. Aemond had chosen Cassandra to be engaged to and had officially set out to escort his fianc��e back to Storm��s End.


    Rhaenyra looked at the list and read aloud, "Remation of wastnd within the Crownds: allocate three hundred plough oxen and one thousand wooden plows..."


    After a moment, she remarked, "Wasn''t three thousand acres of wastnd reimedst year to support over a thousand tenants?"


    "The treasury draws down once; it can''t just be for three thousand acres. It has to be followed up year by year," Rhaegar exined. There was much wastnd within the Crownds, especially around the mountains andkes near King''s Landing.


    Master of Civil Affairs Otto had led the effort, gathering more than 2,000 workers from Flea Bottom to cultivate thend. A considerable amount of money and supplies had been allocated from the treasury for this purpose.


    Fortunately, the results were promising, and the crown had added three thousand acres of medium fields to sustain abor force of over a thousand people.


    Rhaegar decided to continue this initiative, opening up morend for farming and relocating the underss that had umted in King''s Landing.


    Rhaenyra frowned slightly and whispered, "There was no food left over from the previous year. It was all fed to the reimers, and the treasury can''t make ends meet."


    "Self-sufficiency is quite good," Rhaegar replied confidently. "Look at the long term. After three to five years, the royal family will have tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of acres of grain-producing fields."


    Thend and climate of the king''s territory were favorable. With 100,000 acres ofnd, enough food could be produced to feed an army of 5,000 men.


    Rhaegar was jolted from his dozing state by a warm kiss on his cheek. Before he could react, a pair of firm thighs, wrapped in tight ck pants, straddled his waist, pinning him effortlessly.


    He looked up to see Rhaenyra''s stunning face, her smile both yful and inviting. Rhaegar straightened his posture, his eyes lighting up with anticipation.


    "Father is too cruel to you, leaving you here while he enjoys himself," Rhaenyra teased, her long hair cascading down her back as she leaned in closer.


    Rhaegar brushed aside a stray lock of her hair and replied, "Father is giving me time to learn my duties, but he��s certainly having too much fun."


    He understood his father��s intentions. After a tour in Maidenpool, his father had taken Alicent on dragonback to Harrenhal, reportedly spending three days indulging in the hot springs on the Isle of Faces. While Rhaegar was swamped with responsibilities, he couldn��t help but feel a pang of envy.


    Rhaenyra stole another quick kiss, this time on the corner of his lips, leaving Rhaegar relishing the affectionate gesture. Her beautiful eyes sparkled as she leaned in even closer and whispered, "You have to make time for me today."


    "With pleasure," Rhaegar replied, his voice smooth and maic. He wrapped his arms around her slender waist as their faces drew closer, their reflections merging in the zed window beside them.


    Knock knock...


    A sudden, insistent knock on the door interrupted the moment. A little girl''s excited voice followed, "Princess, my dragon egg has hatched!"


    Two dark-skinned girls burst into the hall, one cradling a dragon egg. The intimate scene between Rhaegar and Rhaenyra was quickly disrupted as they pulled apart, leaving a lingering trace of their closeness.


    "Next time, don''t mention Hena. Your two foster daughters have impable timing," Rhaegar muttered, his mesmerized eyes clearing as he nced at the girls.


    "Let go!" Rhaenyra snapped, her cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. She tried to dismount from Rhaegar��sp, but his hands held her in ce.


    "Rhaegar," she warned, her eyes shing.


    Rhaegar simply smiled provocatively, ignoring her.


    Rhaenyra sighed, then turned to the girls with a forced smile, "Your dragon eggs hatched?"


    Ba and Rhaena stood at the table, exchanging curious nces at their cousin and foster mother.


    Ba eagerly nodded, holding up a light green dragon egg with cracks revealing a pinkish-white membrane. Through the membrane, a small shadow squirmed, struggling to break free.


    Suddenly, a tiny pale green head poked through, blinking its amber eyes as it took in its surroundings. Under the watchful gaze of the room, the young dragon wriggled out of its shell, revealing light green scales, delicate horn crowns, and moon-white wing membranes.


    "Roar~~" The young dragon let out its first, tentative roar, perched on top of Ba��s head.


    Ba beamed with joy, gently cradling the hatchling and announcing, "My dragon hatched! I��m naming it Moondancer."

 Chapter 329: Prologue to the Tourney

    Chapter 329: Prologue to the Tourney


    June marked the beginning of summer. The Rivends enjoyed afortable and pleasant climate, with the warm sun hanging in the blue sky and green grass spreading over the fertile soil.


    At Harrenhal, in the Flowstone Yard, five towering towers enclosed several magnificent pces, their ground paved with marble-colored gravel. This exotic stone courtyard was specially designed to house the Targaryen dragons.


    "Roar..."


    Inside a white stone pce, nestled beside a broken bridge over flowing water, a young dragon bellowed in fury. The dragon had cobalt blue scales, orange-red scales on its jaws extending to its belly, and ws and teeth like copper foil. It wasrger than a horse.


    One of the young dragon''s ws was shackled to the floor with a seven or eight-meter-long chain. The pce covered arge area, enough to amodate a dozen young dragons of the same size scurrying about. On each side of the pce, two Dragonkeepers in coarse linen held bamboo staffs.


    The young dragon roared and pped its wings, struggling and spewing cobalt blue Dragonfire in all directions.


    "Aim at the dragon''s neck and release the arrows!" a cold voice ordered. Hundreds of arrows split into two groups, targeting the frantically struggling young dragon.


    "Tessarion, dodge," a child''s voice rang out, thick with excitement.


    "Roar..." Tessarion roared, lifting his head adorned with slender horns and crowns. A mouthful of Dragonfire surged forth, burning most of the arrows. The remaining arrows clinked harmlessly against Tessarion''s cobalt-blue scaled neck.


    The arrows were thick and blunt, tipped with sharp stones that could not pierce the dragon''s scales, causing minimal damage. Feeling the pain, Tessarion tensed all his muscles, straining to break free from the chains, but to no avail.


    A p echoed through the pce as Rhaegar stepped out from behind a circr stone pir and called out, "Take a break, today''s training is over."


    "Yeah!" a childish cheer erupted from Tessarion''s back as a small tin helmet wobbled on the luxurious saddle.


    Rhaegar smiled and closed the ancient, yellowed book he had been reading. Over the past few months, his appearance and demeanor had changed slightly.


    His short, silver-gold hair had grown to shoulder length, tied back with a hairband, allowing the silky strands to fall naturally. Hisplexion had shifted from the pallor of childhood to a noble milky white, enhancing his vivid violet eyes and red lips. Most notably, his dark circles had finally disappeared.


    He wore a white shirt paired with a ck skirt embroidered with dragon patterns and a carved three-headed red dragon jade belt at his waist. Having wielded power for some time, he exuded an easy-going, yet dignified demeanor, with a confident smile ever-present.


    The nobles of King''s Landing and the surrounding regions hade to respect this young heir.


    "Brother, Tessarion is great, isn''t he?" called Daeron, the small figure ttering as he ran towards Rhaegar after being unchained from the dragon.


    "Great, but you''ll control him even better next time," Rhaegar replied, removing Daeron''s helmet to reveal his flushed, sweaty face.


    They had been training ording to the ancient Targaryen system: the rider mounted the dragon, the chains controlled its movements, and the dragon was trained to dodge while under fire from arrows and spears.


    As the day''s training concluded, Grey Worm, dressed in ck armor, approached from outside. Behind him, hundreds of Unsullied packed up their bows and arrows.


    "Prince, the noble ''my lords'' are almost here," Grey Worm reported sternly.


    Rhaegar helped Daeron remove his armor, correcting him with a smile, "Not ''my lords'', that term is just lord."


    "My lord?" Grey Worm repeated in his broken Common Tongue.


    Maester Tru, who had been teaching him, was no longer around, so Grey Worm''snguage skills were stillcking.


    Once Daeron was dressed in his silver and white garments, Rhaegarughed softly, "Come, let''s go greet the lords of Westeros."


    ...


    Harrenhal, the front gates.


    The towering ck stone walls loomed dozens of feet high, adorned with ckened dragon carvings on each side of the battlements. Below, tenrge stone throwers stood ready. The cast steel gates creaked open slowly, revealing the iron-d, solid wood doors within.


    "When will they arrive?" Daeron asked, slumping against the parapet, hisrge eyes scanning the horizon.


    Rhaegar stood with his hands behind his back atop the wide city walls, his gaze fixed on the vast expanse of wilderness beyond. Harrenhal''s dominion was immense, epassing hundreds of miles in every direction, including the entirety of God''s Eye Lake.


    "Prince, they will arrive soon. My raven saw it," Tormund said calmly, his eyes white from using his warg abilities.


    Tormund had changed significantly after several months as Master of Whisperers. He had shed his rough linen clothes for a set of ck and white robes, and around his neck hung a Valyrian steel ne adorned with ears on either side of a single eye.


    This ne, specially crafted by Rhaegar, symbolized his role as Spymaster, akin to the Hand of the King''s palm breastpiece.


    Tormund and Grey Worm stood behind Rhaegar, nking him on either side. A thousand ck-armored Unsullied holding spears and round shields lined the city walls in an imposing formation.


    Two enormous three-headed red dragon banners hung from the battlements, and knights and squires gathered at the city gate in anticipation.


    Suddenly, a deep, resonant horn blew with a powerful rhythm.


    On the main road from the west side of the Isle of Faces, a long, winding line of chariots and soldiers approached Harrenhal, stretching as far as the eye could see. High-flying gs were faintly visible in the distance: Sky-blue falcons, the Golden Roses, and Grey Direwolfs.


    Seeing the familiar banners, Rhaegar''s lips curved into a smile. "Tormund, make sure my father and the others at the Isle of Faces are informed," he said cheerfully.


    "Yes, Prince," Tormund replied, his eyes returning to normal.


    ...


    By noon, a team of g-bearing knights escorted a procession of carriages into Harrenhal.


    As thergest castle on the continent, if not the world, Harrenhal covered an astonishing expanse. A mile from the imposing Tower of Ghostsy the stables, an open-air enclosure with spacious fences capable of holding thousands of warhorses. A designated greeting area was situated just behind the gates.


    Nobles from across thend stepped out of their carriages, their elegant attire unable to conceal the weariness from their long journey. Despite the royal family''s efforts to provide amodations along the way, the travelers showed signs of fatigue.


    As the Heir, Rhaegar had the duty of weing the guests.


    "Prince, I''m grateful I can still attend this tournament despite my age," said the Old Lord Grover Tully of Riverrun, his face rosy as he led his bannermen forward.


    Rhaegar epted the greeting with a heartyugh. "I believe you have many years left in you, perhaps to reach the age of King Jaehaerys I."


    "Haha, let''s hope so."


    During a lull in the greetings, the Knight of the Vale, bearing the banner of asky-blue falcon soaring against a white moon, approached.


    Rhaegar nced sideways and immediately noticed a tall figure among the knights.


    "Prince Rhaegar."


    Jeyne��s eyes sparkled with joy, her gentle voice filled with the delight of reunion.


    It was clear she had dressed carefully for the asion. Her long chestnut hair cascaded over her shoulders, a pale yellow dress entuated her delicate figure, and light makeup enhanced her refined features.


    "Jeyne," Rhaegar greeted, his face lighting up. He restrained his emotions and nodded. "A tough journey, I imagine."


    "It was fine. It''s a shame Lord Yorbert couldn��te."


    Jeyne''s brown eyes lingered on Rhaegar, not wanting to miss a moment.


    Thest time they had seen each other was at the beginning of the year in the Eyrie. Rhaegar had been preupied with political affairs for the past six months and couldn��t visit the Vale.


    "Lord Yorbert''s health is deteriorating," Jessamyn added. Her light red curly hair and long blue dress stood out brightly.


    Rhaegar turned to see Jessamyn, along with Skr and the bannermen��Gerold Royce, Joffrey Grafton, and others.


    Many were young and middle-aged women, naturally gathered around Jeyne. These were survivors of the ck Wedding who had inherited titles and territories, forming a semi-public regime under Jeyne��s leadership.


    Through the Motherhouse of Maris'' convent in Gulltown, they had established a power structure that challenged the traditional male-dominated regime. Rhaegar had witnessed the fierce determination of the Valley��s internal council of women.


    "Wee to Harrenhal," Rhaegar said courteously, not underestimating them for being women. "I have a warm feast prepared for you."


    At that moment, a group of silver-armored knights bearing a golden rose banner approached with great pomp. Their armor and weapons were the finest among all the nobles'' retinues.


    The knights formed two rows, parting to reveal a verdant, delicate figure.


    It was a young girl with the pride of a rose. Her light green silk gown highlighted her tall, well-proportioned curves. Soft brown hair draped over her bare shoulders, her skin as white and tender as milk. Her features were delicate and charming, epitomizing exquisite beauty.


    The only daughter of the Lord of Highgarden, Margaery Tyrell, approached Rhaegar with a warm smile. "Highgarden sends its sincere greetings to you, Prince Rhaegar," she said softly.


    Turning to Jeyne, her eyes sparkled with excitement. "Lady Jeyne, I''ve long wanted to visit you. It��s an honor to finally meet."


    Margaery��s demeanor was so warm it seemed she might pull Jeyne into an embrace. Jeyne responded with a gentle smile, "It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Lady Margaery."


    However, after exchanging pleasantries, Jeyne stepped back to stand beside Rhaegar. With the male heir of Highgarden unexpectedly deceased and old Tyrell mourning his only remaining son, Margaery��s intentions were clear, and Jeyne chose to avoid getting entangled in the delicate situation.


    Understanding the undercurrents between the two women, Rhaegar intervened with a weing smile. "Please,e inside. The squire has prepared a sumptuous banquet."


    "Thank you for your generosity," Margaery replied yfully, lifting her foot to proceed.


    At that moment, a deep, resonant dragon roar echoed through the sky, capturing the attention of all the nobles. A bronze dragon soared through the thin white clouds, its massive form casting a dark shadow over Harrenhal''s lofty walls.


    Close behind, a light blue dragon carrying a young girl with silver-golden, slightly curly hair swooped down against the walls, disappearing into the castle��s interior in an instant.


    Simultaneously, a muffled dragon roar emanated from the shattered garden, exuding a strong sense of dominance that reverberated in everyone''s ears. Dreamfyre, in a bad temper, swept through with a gust of wind, lifting the skirts of the onlookers.


    "Oof!" Margaery slipped and fell into Rhaegar''s arms.


    "Careful, Lady Margaery," Rhaegar said evenly, guiding her back to Jeyne��s side and taking a step back himself. A dragon and eagle were enough for him; he had no desire to be pricked by a golden rose.


    Soon, an increasing procession of knights and carriages entered the gates. Among them was Jason Lannister, resplendent in his finery, apanied by Ormund Hightower.


    Under the banner of the Direwolf, a middle-aged ck-haired man on a pitch-ck warhorse led the procession. Beside him rode a handsome young man with ck hair, dark eyes, and a resolute expression.

 Chapter 330: Young Dragon Morning Deficiency

    Chapter 330: Young Dragon Morning Deficiency


    Rhaegar nced over, noting the typical Northern Stark features of the man approaching.


    All the bannermen came to greet him, and soon it was the turn of the Stark House.


    Knights of the North, wrapped in thick clothing, nked the entourage. The dark-haired middle-aged man stepped forward, his voice low and respectful. "The North salutes you, Prince Rhaegar."


    "The people of the North are wee to participate in this tournament, Lord Bennard," Rhaegar responded with a gentle nod, though his tone remained distant.


    Bennard Stark, the sibling brother of the former Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, Rickon Stark, was now the Regent of Winterfell. Feeling the prince''s cool demeanor, Bennard maintained hisposure, reflecting the typical Stark stoicism, and respectfully withdrew.


    Next, the Stark teenager approached. He had gleaming ck eyes, shoulder-length dark curly hair, and wore a slightly worn ck frock coat lined with ferret skin. Two meters away from Rhaegar, the teenager knelt and respectfully lowered his head. "Cregan Stark sends his reverent greetings to you and hopes that you will not be disturbed by the cold."


    Rhaegar looked down at him and solemnly replied, "ept your greetings, Lord Cregan."


    Cregan Stark, only thirteen years old, was the current Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. When Cregan rose after the salute, Rhaegar noted the heroic spirit in his eyes and took the initiative to speak. "I heard the sad news about Lord Rickon. Forgive me for not being able to attend the funeral in person."


    Cregan, despite his youth, stood tall andposed, his dark eyes deep and his curly hair draped over his shoulders. His physique was already formidable for his age, with callused hands indicative of rigorous training. Responding to Rhaegar''s condolences, Cregan said calmly, "As long as you keep his loyalty in mind, my father would never me you for your absence."


    His response was dignified and measured, reflecting the meticulous nature of the Stark House.


    Rhaegar admired the unassuming young Lord and couldn''t help butpare him to ElmoTully, who was apanying the elder Tully. The contrast between the two heirs was stark��one exuding maturity and resilience, the othercking substance.


    Patting Cregan''s solid shoulder, Rhaegar turned to Bennard, who stood nearby. "Next time, tell the Lord of Winterfell to salute me first. I remember that the Starks are a House that follows tradition."


    Bennard was momentarily taken aback, a sh of dismay crossing his eyes before he replied, "Yes, Prince."


    Rhaegar signaled for Cregan to retire and continued to receive the other bannermen. He understood Cregan''s precarious situation, with his power being undermined by his regent uncle. Unlike Jeyne, who had managed to assert her authority, Cregan was still struggling to find his footing.


    Sensing Rhaegar''s goodwill, Cregan tactfully pretended not to notice, silently stepping back to make way for others.


    The city gates bustled with a steady stream of carriages. Among them, two teams of knights bearing banners with a stag and a blue seahorse respectively, approached, heralding the arrival of more distinguished guests.


    Another dragon roar echoed through the sky as an ungainly brown y-colored dragon soared over Harrenhal, circling above the massive fortress.


    "Rhaegar, I''m back!"


    Aemond called out jubntly as he jumped from his carriage, leaving the curtains fluttering behind him. Dressed in silky silver robes adorned with gold and silver ornaments, Aemond''s pride was evident.


    Ignoring the four Cassandra sisters who were still disembarking, Aemond strode forward with an air of grandeur. Cassandra frowned slightly, wanting to call out to him, but hesitated and remained silent.


    The sisters stepped out, assisting their mother, Lady Elenda, who stood regally beside them.


    Under the banner of the silverseahorse, the Sea Snake Corlys and Rhaenys arrived hand in hand, followed by their eldest son, Laenor, and Celine Celtigar. Over the past few months, Rhaenys had been at Storm''s End, meticulously organizing Aemond and Cassandra''s engagement, thus resolving a major issue for the royal family.


    Seeing the mboyant Aemond, Rhaegar grabbed him by the neck and teased, "Good boy, dressed so fancy. You don''t seem to care about that bag of gold dragons."


    "My fianc��e helped me dress up," Aemond shrugged, his eyes gleaming with mockery.


    Rhaegar, sensing that the mockery was not directed at him, nced at Lady Elenda and her daughters. Strangely, Royce Caron was absent, reced by two burly men.


    One was a tall, obese man with rough features and short ck hair, bearing a resemnce to Borros Baratheon, but older, probably about Borros'' age. The other was in his twenties, tall and stocky, with thick eyebrows,rge eyes, and an air of arrogance reminiscent of Borros.


    Rhaegar guessed that these two were probably Borros'' bastard brothers or sons.


    Lady Elenda approached, her voice maic, "House Baratheon greets you, honorable Prince Rhaegar."


    "I look forward to your participation, ma''am," Rhaegar replied politely.


    The Four Storms also saluted, followed by the Baratheon bannermen. This was a highlight.


    Except for Cassandra, who joined Aemond, the other three sisters stood by Lady Elenda. The two presumed bastards stood alone, ignored by Lady Elenda and her daughters.


    Two great nobles, wearing the insignia of House Swann and House Dondarrion, stood beside the bastards, ignoring Lady Elenda and her daughters.


    Rhaegar noticed the nobles of the Swann House of Stonehelm and the Dondarrion House of ckhaven. "Interesting, they are both famous surnames in the Stornds as well," he thought, his expression unchanged, already drawing conclusions.


    The reception continued until arge carriage arrived bearing the three-headed red dragon banner.


    King Viserys stepped out, hand in hand with Queen Alicent. Viserys, looking well, walked slowly, smiling and greeting courtiers. Alicent, her face rosy and free of worry, warmly entertained thedies.


    Seeing everything well in hand, Rhaegar''s purple eyes shed with relief as he prepared to slip away.


    As he took a step back, Alicent called out, "Rhaegar, there are too many guests. Can you call Rhaenyra to help me?"


    Rhaegar pursed his lips, hesitant. "She... I''ll try," he replied.


    Alicent, sensing his difort, sighed and waved him off, no longer pressing the matter.


    Relieved, Rhaegar smiled, chatted briefly with a group of advisors, and quietly slipped away from the crowd.


    ...


    Kingspyre Tower


    Rhaegar slipped away from the noisy crowd and made his way back through the gravel garden to his residence.


    ng... ng...


    The sound of shing swords echoed from the sandy clearing outside Kingspyre Tower.


    Aegon, bare-chested and wielding a hand-and-a-half sword, was locked in a fierce duel with Arryk Cargyll, who wore silver armor and a white robe, his expression solemn and focused.


    "Ha!..." Aegon gritted his teeth, swinging his sword relentlessly, thrusting forward with determination.


    Arryk remained calm, parrying each blow with ease.


    As Rhaegar passed, he called out without breaking stride, "Keep your steps steady. Don''t fight like a cripple."


    Aegon''s face darkened at thement. He widened his stance, bent his knees, and swung his sword with renewed speed and precision.


    After being chastised by Aemond half a month ago, Aegon had suddenly rekindled his interest in swordy.


    Viserys and Alicent were both pleased to see that their son had regained his motivation and was no longer aimless.


    ...


    Entering Kingspyre Tower, Rhaegar ascended in a manually operated winch cage. Given that Harrenhal''s five main towers were exceptionally tall, it took at least half an hour to travel up or down. The winch cage was an invaluable tool for such a task.


    On the top floor of the tower, in a room reserved for lords, Lorent, a member of the Kingsguard, stood watch in front of the solid wood door.


    "How is Rhaenyra?" Rhaegar inquired softly, as if afraid of disturbing those inside.


    Lorent lowered his eyes and whispered, "The princess is awake, but it''s the same old story."


    Rhaegar nodded, giving Lorent a reassuring pat on the shoulder.


    Creak��


    As he pushed open the door, the sweet aroma of desserts filled his nostrils. Rhaenyra sat on her knees on the red carpet, her silky silver hair cascading casually down her back. She wore only a light white silk nightgown.


    In front of her was a small table crowded with an array of desserts, including cream cakes and seven-gill eel pies. When Rhaegar entered, she was holding a piece of pie in one hand and a bottle of summer red in the other, stuffing her mouth with little regard for decorum.


    Her movements were so exaggerated that one strap of her nightgown had slipped off, revealing a hint of her pale skin. Her legs were folded beneath her, and the hem of her gown barely covered the tops of her thighs.


    At the sight, Rhaegar felt a headacheing on. He didn''t know where to begin persuading her.


    "Roar..."


    A shrill dragon roar emanated from the side.


    By the wall at the entrance of the room, twin little girls wearing small white dresses crouched side by side, each with a young dragon lying in their arms.


    Both girls had long silver-gold hair and inherited their mother Laena��s beauty, with delicate and lovely features. Ba had a darkerplexion, leaning towards the light ck of their grandfather, the Sea Snake Corlys, with round violet eyes.


    Rhaena had a lighterplexion, simr to their mother Laena��s general olive coloring, with a hint of fangs.


    Rhaegar closed the door and smiled. "How are you both doing?"


    "Uh, fine," the twins nodded in unison, their pigtails bobbing.


    "Roar..."


    A young green dragony in Ba''s arms, its vertical pupils ring at the neer. This was Moondancer, hatched from a dragon egg a few months ago. The newly hatched dragon had grown quickly, already the size of arge dog, and the crown of horns on its head was beginning to show promise.


    Like her sister, Rhaena had a baby dragon in her arms, but this one was in a very different condition. Rhaegar leaned down to examine it. The young dragon had pale pink scales, ck horn crowns, and wing membranes of a monotonous moon white color. It was as beautiful as a butterfly, earning the name Morning.


    Unfortunately, Morning had an ill fate. Hatched the night after Moondancer, the two young dragons were like twins. However, while Moondancer thrived and grew rapidly, Morning seemed born with a deficiency and remained sickly, barely growing to the size of a house cat.


    At this moment, Morningy weakly in Rhaena��s arms, its tiny dragon head gently arching. Rhaegar stroked Rhaena��s head and asked softly, "Is Morning okay?"


    "She''s okay. She ate a little bit of roastedmb today," Rhaena replied naively, rubbing her small hands against Morning��s spine, her eyes reflecting a deep mncholy.


    While her sister''s hatchling was healthy and strong, hers seemed fragile, as if it might die at any moment. She was filled with both pity and worry for the young dragon she had hatched herself.

 Chapter 331: Rhaenyra’s Special Status

    Chapter 331: Rhaenyra��s Special Status


    Rhaegar''s eyes twinkled as he instructed, "Take good care of it. I''ve recently acquired an ancient book about dragons. I''ll study it and discuss it with the maesters."


    The ancient tome had been acquired by Syrio at a high price, traded by an orphan whose father had explored the Smoking Sea.


    "Can you heal it?" Rhaena''s eyes widened with hope as she cradled the young dragon.


    Rhaegar made a thoughtful gesture and smiled, "Perhaps."


    After settling the twins, Rhaegar nced over to see Rhaenyra finishing a piece of pie and tilting her head back to gulp down some wine.


    Rhaegar''s heart clenched, but he forced a smile. "Well, Rhaenyra and I have something to discuss. You two take the young dragons and go y outside."


    "Okay," the twins said in unison and obediently ran out the door.


    Once they left, Rhaegar straightened and sighed, his frown deepening as he turned to Rhaenyra.


    Rhaenyra, oblivious to his concern, selected another piece of dessert and fed it to herself, her mouth too small to amodate the whole treat, leaving a smear of cream at the corners of her lips.


    Even so, she seemed content, far from her usual demure self.


    Rhaegar sat beside her, feeling a mix of frustration and concern. "Rhaenyra, Alicent asked you to entertain the guests. Would you like to get some fresh air?"


    "Alicent can handle it alone," Rhaenyra replied, unmoved.


    Rhaegar took a deep breath and waved to Sara, the young girl standing silently nearby. "Call Maester Orwyle, please."


    Sara nodded and left the room.


    Rhaenyra''s behavior had changed dramatically recently. Her appetite had increased, she was listless, and her temper had be unpredictable. Although she had always enjoyed sweets and had a fiery temper, the change was now too pronounced. Her mouth was either chewing on delicacies or spewing curses.


    As they spoke, Rhaenyra finished her dessert in a few bites and reached for a piece of strawberry pudding.


    Rhaegar noticed the stack of five or six porcin tes around her. Gripping her wrist gently but firmly, he said, "Rhaenyra, you''ve already eaten a lot of sweets. You''ll make yourself sick if you continue."


    She used to eat three meals a day with an asionalte-night snack, and one or two bites of sweets were enough. Now, she was consuming an rming amount, with no regard for meals, eating what would have been a day''s worth in the past.


    Disturbed from her indulgence, Rhaenyra''s eyes filled with irritation. She nced at his hand on her wrist, frowning in dissatisfaction. "I''m hungry."


    "You''re not hungry; you''re craving," Rhaegar corrected her, pointing to her small belly under the silk nightgown. "If you keep this up, you''ll ruin your figure."


    Once t and smooth, her belly was beginning to show signs of excess.


    "Rhaegar, you dislike me!" Rhaenyra''s eyes widened, and she yed dirty.


    Pah!


    While Rhaegar wasn��t paying attention, Rhaenyra grabbed a piece of cream and pped it onto his face, smearing it with a look of defiance.


    "Rhaenyra, you''re not a child anymore," Rhaegar scolded, leaning back to avoid her mischievous hand, now covered in cream.


    Creak-


    The door to the room opened, revealing Sara standing outside with Maester Orwyle. Rhaegar nced over and noticed a voluptuous figure in a red robe beyond the two.


    St


    Rhaenyra, pouting, grabbed a piece of cake and pped it onto Rhaegar��s chest. Exasperated, he took a cloak from beside the bed, covered Rhaenyra, and straightened her loose nightgown.


    "Come in," he said, once everything was in order.


    Orwyle entered, carrying a small satchel. Rhaegar wiped the cream from hispel and said gravely, "You know the princess''s condition. Please check her thoroughly."


    He suspected that Rhaenyra was either ill or had been upset in some way. Her face was flushed, her eyes misty with tears, and she bit her lower lip. "I''m not sick," she insisted, her earlier anger giving way to tears.


    Feeling a pang of sympathy, Rhaegar gently embraced her. "Let the maester check you. We all want to make sure you''re okay, right?"


    Rhaenyra shook her head, burying her face in his arms, sobbing softly, a stark contrast to her usual bright and domineering self. She seemed like a small, aggrieved girl.


    Rhaegar kissed her forehead and signaled Orwyle to proceed quickly. With Rhaegar''s support, Orwyle had risen to the position of Grand Maester, sitting on the Small Council, making him a trusted ally.


    Orwyle��s examination was thorough and efficient. Finally, he concluded, "The princess is very healthy. It seems that insomnia and dreams may be causing her distress."


    "Is that all?" Rhaegar asked, surprised.


    "Not a single problem," Orwyle confirmed.


    A sudden thought struck Rhaegar. "Could it be... something else?" he asked, eyeing Rhaenyra''s stomach expectantly.


    Orwyle shook his head. "Prince, the princess shows no signs of pregnancy right now."


    With limited means of detection, the only option was to wait. Disappointed, Rhaegar sighed. "Thank you, Maester. You may retire."


    Orwyle, perceptive as always, silently exited the room.


    As he passed by, the red priestess standing guard outside spoke politely, "Prince, why don��t you let me take a look?"


    Rhaegar nced at her and tly refused, "Stay away from Rhaenyra or be immediately deported back to Vntis."


    Despite the friendship he had built with the temple of R��hllor, he heartily loathed and rejected red priestess. He would never consent to any red priestess being near Rhaenyra at this moment.


    The red priestess was not annoyed. She surveyed the siblings calmly and whispered, "A true dragon will usually draw the sustenance it needs."


    "What are you muttering about?" Rhaegar snapped, narrowing his eyes.


    "Nothing."


    Leaning on the doorframe, the red priestess said disparagingly, "I��ve examined the sanctuary inside the castle. Those two priests of the Faith of the Seven are still moring for a bronze statue to be cast for the Holy Mother. Are you really not considering converting to the R��hllor Faith?"


    "No! Never. At least not now. You can leave."


    Rhaegar feigned anger and issued an expulsion order. The Faith of the Seven had been rooted in Westeros for a long time, and they had reached an agreement with him with great difficulty, so how could he arbitrarily jeopardize it unless there was a need and enough benefits?


    The red priestess knew she did not have enough leverage and left resentfully.


    Sara, understanding the situation, followed, closing the door behind her. For a moment, the room fell silent, leaving only the sounds of Rhaenyra��s sobbing and Rhaegar��sforting words.


    Rhaenyra wept silently, her head arching around in Rhaegar��s arms as she tried to find afortable position to rest. She had been so anxioustely that she couldn��t find a moment��s peace.


    After a while, she choked out, "Aren��t you going to apany the guests?"


    Rhaegar slowly smoothed her messy hair and said seriously, "Let the guests go to hell. It''s enough for me to stay with you."


    He didn��t understand why Rhaenyra was like this, but he knew she was upset and needed him by her side.


    "You are the heir. You should go out." Rhaenyra tightened her arms around his waist, her voice firm but her grip revealing her true feelings.


    Rhaegar saw through her small mind and asked softly, "Rhaenyra, what��s wrong?"


    Rhaenyra looked up with teary eyes, ring at him with a grudging look before shrinking back into his arms like an ostrich.


    After a few moments, Rhaegar heard her muttering, "Father favored you even before you were born, and even after you were born in aa, you were still the center of his attention..."


    Her voice trailed off as she continued, "Because you were a boy, you easily took my throne..."


    She huffed again, "You��re so good, smarter than me, and even I, who should hold a grudge, can��t help but care for you..."


    "Rhaegar, you were unfaithful to me. You owe me..."


    As her voice gradually stopped, Rhaenyra fell asleep with a slightly furrowed brow against Rhaegar��s chest.


    After hearing her hiddenints, Rhaegar tightened his embrace and touched his forehead to hers. At least now he knew what she was thinking.


    If she felt better in her heart, Rhaegar��s heart was more at ease.


    After a moment of silence, Rhaegar murmured softly, "Until the tournament is over, I''ll stay by your side and not go anywhere."


    He gently picked her up and ced her on the bed to rest. He stared at her for a while, feeling drowsiness creep in.


    At thest moment before closing his eyes, a familiar murmur reached his ears.


    "I don��t me you..."


    ...


    Unconsciously, a dream began to unfold.


    The scene: a room in the Red Keep.


    Rhaegar looked around, bewildered by the familiarity of the room. Where a bed should have been, there was a cradle.


    Rhaegar approached the cradle and saw a sleeping baby swaddled inside.


    ��What are you doing?��


    A familiar voice startled Rhaegar.


    ��Princess, it��s time to feed the little prince.��


    ��You can go. I��ll handle it myself.��


    Rhaegar rxed. It wasn''t the people in the dream who had noticed him, but someone speaking outside the door.


    Crunch


    The door opened, and a delicate silver-haired girl entered, holding a bowl of warm goat��s milk.


    ��Rhaenyra?�� Rhaegar was surprised.


    This Rhaenyra was around 8 or 9 years old, with a delicate and cute face, her purple eyes focused with a gaze beyond her years.


    She moved closer to the cradle, a sh of disdain crossing her face as she looked down at the baby.


    ��You took away Mother,�� she muttered, reaching out hesitantly to pinch the baby��s nose.


    Rhaegar watched in amazement. The baby was definitely him. Had he unknowingly been a victim of Rhaenyra''s childhood jealousy?


    Unable to breathe through his nose, the baby woke up, his tiny hands groping clumsily. He couldn''t open his eyes due to congenital deficiencies and, even when he tried to cry, could only manage a faint whimper.


    After struggling for a while, the baby grabbed Rhaenyra��s hand that was pinching his nose and licked it with his tiny tongue.


    ��Ugh!�� Rhaenyra shivered in disgust and let go.


    Breathing freely again, the baby gasped and clutched Rhaenyra��s hand, nibbling on it more vigorously.


    Rhaenyra frowned at her helpless brother. Then, as if struck by a thought, she drew back her hand, now covered in saliva, and looked down at the baby arrogantly.


    With a mischievous smile, she dipped her fingers into the goat��s milk and teased the baby by cing them near his mouth.


    The baby eagerly babbled and sucked on her finger, clearly starving.


    Amused, Rhaenyra continued to dip her finger into the goat��s milk and tease the baby, who sucked it down hungrily, oblivious to her antics.


    In this way, the baby endured the mockery and finished the small bowl of goat��s milk. Exhausted, he fell back to sleep, snoring lightly.


    Rhaenyra��s cheeks flushed as shey by the cradle, asionally poking the baby��s face, her earlier disdain reced by curiosity and a hint of affection.


    Rhaegar observed everything, a weight lifting from his heart.


    Fortunately, he wouldn��t be murdered by his own sister.


    It was also at this moment that Rhaegar coldly recalled some intimate details of his childhood.


    Grinding his teeth, he muttered, ��No wonder she��s always tormenting me!��

 Chapter 332: The First Match of the Tourney

    Chapter 332: The First Match of the Tourney


    After three days of rest for the guests who had traveled from afar, the long-anticipated tourney was officially convened.


    On the north shore of God''s Eye Lake, an oval white stone building stood. Built over several months, this martial arts arena wasrger and more spacious than any other in the kingdom.


    In the center of the arena was an eye-shaped open space for the knights to fight. The spectator stands on either side rose in terracedyers, reaching thirty feet in the air and holding up to thirty thousand people.


    Early in the morning, nobles eager for the event left the gates of Harrenhal and rushed to the arena to secure their seats. The martial arts field quickly filled with a moring and vibrant crowd.


    To one side of the arena was a separate, elevated area with a spacious tform that provided the best view. King Viserys, d in ck robes and wearing a golden crown, sat in the main seat.


    Soon, Alicent and a group of royal advisors arrived and surrounded the king.


    "This arena is impressive, quite magnificent," Viserys remarked, looking around and initiating conversation.


    Otto agreed, "Indeed, it would be hard to find a better arena for fighting in all the Seven Kingdoms."


    Viserysughed, pleased with the magnificence of the arena. "You''re right."


    After some light conversation, Viserys looked around and asked, "Where are Rhaegar and Rhaenyra? They haven''t arrived yet?"


    The eldest son was the protagonist of the tournament, and beingte would not look good.


    "They should be here soon. I saw them in the Flowstone Yard this morning," Alicent replied hesitantly.


    In a few moments, the tform was filled with people��royal advisers, lords and their families from all realms, and famous young talents from the Seven Kingdoms.


    In a few moments, the tform was filled with people.


    Royal advisers, Lords and their families from all realms, and famous young talents from the seven kingdoms...


    Roar--


    Abruptly, a loud and clear dragon roar resounded across the northern shore of God''s Eye Lake, and a fierce wind carrying shadows enveloped the martial arts scene.


    The nobledies covered their skirts and looked up in rm.


    A huge dragon as ck as charcoal soared over the turquoise-coloredke, its wings like dark clouds covering the sky, overlooking the beings below with cold indifference.


    The pair of green vertical pupils as huge as copper bells, paired with the grayish, curved horns on the hideous dragon''s head, was like an evil god.


    Some people recognized the origin of the pitch-ck dragon and let out cheers and shouts.


    More nobles and knights of the kingdom had not yet seen Cannibal, and held their breath in silence.


    Roar...


    Another high-pitched dragon roar came, golden scales glistening and glowing in the sunlight as they soared together around the pitch-ck dragon.


    The two dragons slowly circled above the martial arts arena, the pitch ck and golden yellow entangled with each other, like two dragons dancing together.


    Roar-


    Cannibal roared in a low voice, its huge body rotated on its nks for a week without losing its flexibility, and a mouthful of ghostly green Dragonfire cut through the long white clouds.


    Boom--


    The dragonfire raised the temperature, and the Cannibalnded outside the high wall at the side of the martial arts arena, closing the ck wings that could stir up the wind with a light tap.


    As his feet hit the ground, the ck scales that covered the dragon''s spine remained above the white stone walls, revealing the silver-haired figure in the saddle.


    Syrax circled alone and flew lightly to the Cannibal, its feet stepping right on the tform at the top of the high wall.


    With all eyes on him, Rhaegar stepped off the dragon''s back and looked over the tform at Rhaenyra on Syrax''s back.


    For today''s match, Rhaegar was dressed in a ck dragon scale armor, scarlet cloak on his shoulders, and his long silver-gold hair was naturally draped.


    Rhaenyra was ably dressed, a corseted ck suit with a streamlined skirt, her long hair braided into a braid that hung behind her head.


    "How are you today?" Rhaegar gently hugged down Rhaenyra, asking as if flirting.


    The corner of Rhaenyra''s lips sketched a smile, confidently saying, "Fine."


    After three days offort, her irritable mind was finally relieved.


    The siblings walked arm in arm down the top tform, following the white steps of the audience tform straight to the observation deck where their father stood.


    Ignoring the various looks from both sides, Rhaegar sniffed at Rhaenyra''s hair and smiled, "It''s working well."


    "This stuff will give you a few good nights sleep."


    Rhaenyra crossed her eyes at him, her white palms pping the pockets of her robes.


    To calm Rhaenyra''s spirits, Rhaega has contributed the long-cherished powder of the Soul Restoring Orchid.


    Sprinkle a little on your pillow before bed and you''re guaranteed a fragrant night''s sleep.


    Rhaegar''s dark circles have disappeared inrge part due to the support of the scented powder.


    ...


    On the viewing tform, the crowd was already seated. Viserys sat in the main seat, with Alicent and Otto to his left and right. Several royal advisers sat behind the king, chatting with the neighboring great nobles. To the right of Viserys, representing nobility, sat the Sea Snake Corlys and Rhaenys. Two rows of chairs split into two columns further ahead amodated some nobledies and their small gatherings.


    "Father," Rhaegar greeted with a faint smile as he descended the steps.


    Viserys looked disconcerted, seemingly angered over something, his grip on the wine cup so tight that beads of blood oozed from a cut on his palm.


    Alicent held her husband''s hand, concern in her voice, "Viserys, don''t think about what''s bothering you. The tournament is about to begin."


    Viserys dissipated his anger, looking at his eldest son with a forced smile, "Sit down first, it will soon be your turn in the ring."


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow and retreated to his seat without a word. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the Master of Whisperers, Tormund, was absent, indicating something had happened.


    A light footstep rang out, apanied by a breathtakingly soft and ethereal scent. Margaery, with exquisite makeup, walked in, carrying the hem of her red dress and swaying her light red curls.


    "Prince, you look really handsome in your armor. I haven''t seen a man more powerful than you in the Rivends," Margaery said, offering herpliments with a slight smile.


    Rhaegar smiled politely and joked, "Thank you for thepliment. I haven''t seen a man more imposing than me in the Crownds either."


    Daemon, the notable exception, had been beaten by Rhaegar.


    "Hee hee, I like your witty humor."


    Margaeryughed lightly, taking advantage of Rhaegar''s brief distraction to step forward. Standing on tiptoe, she wrapped her arms around his neck and nted two kisses on his cheeks.


    Rhaegar instantly stiffened, pushing her away gently, his voice deep, "Lady Margaery, you are too enthusiastic."


    He hastily wiped the lipstick marks from his cheeks, avoiding Rhaenyra''s gaze entirely.


    "Sorry, I just wanted to send a blessing before you went on," Margaery curtsied apologetically, her eyes hinting at girlish shyness.


    Quite a few people noticed this exchange, casting curious nces. Viserys, especially, stared at Margaery in amazement, marveling at the boldness of young girls nowadays.


    Rhaegar''s entire body went numb, stiffening as he wiped off the lipstick marks. He had just managed to adjust Rhaenyra''s mindset and didn��t want toplicate things further with Margaery''s bold disy.


    "Don''t rub it off, it''s quite pretty."


    A small hand grasped his wrist, and Rhaenyra''s voice whispered in his ear.


    Rhaegar turned in surprise to see Rhaenyra smiling serenely, her gaze calm and assessing.


    "Keep it," she said, ncing around before continuing, "don''t let Miss Margaery down."


    "Are you sure?" Rhaegar frowned, feeling a mix of confusion, curiosity and worry.


    "Of course."


    Rhaenyra arched an eyebrow and turned to Margaery, whispering, "Thank you for the gift, showing me the passion of a Highgarden Rose."


    "You''re wee. No one can resist the beauty of a Highgarden Rose," Margaery replied, her red lips curling into a smile. "Prince, you''ve rarely gone outtely, so you might not know the current situation."


    She winked yfully at Rhaegar, subtly pointing with a finger hidden under her cuff.


    Rhaegar followed her gaze suspiciously to the back row of seats where several familiar figures gathered. Among them were Ormund Hightower, Jason Lannister, the Lord of Swann, and the Lord of Dondarrion from ckhaven.


    Aegon sat alone in a corner, nked by two of Old Lord Tully''s wastrel sons and two bastards from House Baratheon. Aegon looked annoyed as the Tully sons babbled around him, while the Baratheon bastards were expressionless, asionally ncing down at the four sisters with Aemond and Cassandra.


    At first nce, nothing seemed amiss, but Rhaegar sensed something different.


    "Thank you, Lady Margaery," he said, managing a smile.


    "You''re wee. Highgarden will always be your solid support," Margaery replied with a curtsy before leaving.


    Rhaenyra watched her return to her seat, then took Rhaegar''s hand and sat across from the Sea Snake couple. "No wiping off the lipstick until the sun rises tomorrow," she said faintly.


    Rhaegar: ....


    ...


    After the brief exchange, the tournament officiallymenced.


    King Viserys opened with a rousing speech that ignited the audience''s excitement, elevating the atmosphere to a fever pitch.


    The first match was announced by an obese middle-aged referee dressed invish red silk. He called thepetitors to the field with grandiose ir.


    Two knights, d in gleaming armor, rode in on one ck and one white warhorse, greeting the cheering crowd with woodennces held high.


    The referee raised his scepter and proimed, "First match! Wee Lord Cregan of House Stark from the North and the Commander of the Stepstones Inds, Ser Criston Cole!"


    Rhaegar perked up, adjusting his position for a better view.


    In the arena, Cregan Stark, d in worn te armor marked by numerous scratches, rode a pitch-ck warhorse. Across from him, Ser Criston Cole, donning silver-gray te armor, lifted his visor to reveal a confident, handsome face.


    The tournament traditionally included three main events: knight duels, archery, and group battles. To kick things off, a duel between two formidable knights served as the warm-up.


    The gong sounded, signaling the start of the match. The knights took their positions on either side of a wooden barrier, raising theirnces in readiness.


    "Phew..."


    The warhorses stepped forward simultaneously, their riders poised for the charge.


    Cregan leaned forward, his ck eyes locked onto his opponent, his breathing steady and focused.


    The warhorses thundered towards each other, closing the distance rapidly.


    Halfway through the charge, ck and white shed.


    Crack!


    Ance splintered upon impact, wood fragments scattering through the air, apanied by the distressed neighing of the warhorses.

 Chapter 333: Rhaegar’s Turn

    Chapter 333: Rhaegar��s Turn


    The entire crowd gasped in surprise, their attention riveted on the action.


    Cole, astride his white horse, continued his charge. His shield, an orange base dotted with ck stars, shattered upon impact, and the tip of his woodennce splintered.


    Behind him, the pitch-ck warhorse reared and neighed, galloping recklessly. Cregan, still on its back, fell against the istion fence, being dragged forward by his steed. His shield, emzoned with an Direwolfs head, remained intact, but his woodennce was split in two, and a dent marred his shoulder armor.


    Despite this, Cregan managed to stay mounted, showing he still had the strength to fight.


    On the viewing tform, Rhaegar smiled, watching with keen interest. Earlier, in the sh between the two horses, the young and aggressive Cregan had aimed for Cole''s abdomen, hoping for a quick victory. Cole, with his seasoned experience, focused on defense, countering by targeting Cregan��s shoulder armor and nearly unseating him.


    Rhaenyra nced at Rhaegar, twisting the ring on her finger, and murmured, "Cole is in good form, as always, as valiant as ever."


    Rhaegar, catching her words, raised an eyebrow. "Cole still wants to return to his position at court. You''re leaving him a way back."


    "Hmph," Rhaenyra huffed, picking up a dessert from the table and bringing it to her lips.


    Rhaegar chuckled, reaching out to hold her hand as they continued to watch the match. Cole had once been Rhaenyra''s Kingsguard, and it was no secret that she admired him when she was younger. However, since Rhaegar had be the Heir, she had grown distant from Cole.


    When Harrold, the previous captain of the Kingsguard, died, Cole elected a themander and shifted his allegiance to their father.


    Still, Rhaegar didn''t let jealousy cloud his judgment.


    In the arena, Cregan braced himself against the railing, stabilizing his restless warhorse with a firm grip on the reins. Hisposure and strategy were impressive, rivaling those of the best knights.


    Dangang...


    The referee struck the gong again, signaling the start of the second charge.


    The squires provided fresh woodennces and shields. Cregan and Cole locked eyes, their determination palpable.


    Cole maintained his strategy, shielding himself with one hand while aiming hisnce at Cregan''s breastte. Cregan, his eyes cold and focused, rode low, hisnce poised.


    Ka-ching--


    The horses thundered past each other, both knights lurching outward, theirnces splintering on impact.


    "What a brave young man!" Viserys, seated in the main seat, stood and apuded.


    Otto, slightly affected, joined in the praise: "The Starks of the North have nevercked courage."


    The entire audience had witnessed the intense sh. Cregan, aware of hisck of experience, kept his upper body close to his horse, hisnce aimed squarely at Cole''s shield. Cole, avoiding a direct hit, swung hisnce to deflect Cregan''s and prevent himself from being taken down.


    Another round passed, and both knights managed to stay on horseback, their skill and bravery evident in every move.


    "Phew~~"


    The charge became more intense. The squire had just handed over two newnces, and the two knights, having steadied themselves, shed again.


    Ka-chow-


    Different reactions, but the same result: this time, it was Cole��snce that shattered. The teenage Stark was indeed powerful, his strength just slightly surpassing Cole��s.


    Boom Boom Boom...


    They exchanged blows several more times, both remaining undefeated at the cost of brokennces.


    Rhaegar couldn''t help butugh, sharing his joy with Rhaenyra. "If they keep this up, Harrenhal��s stockpile ofnces will run out."


    "Will the vault under the Widow��s Tower be emptied?" Rhaenyra teased, nibbling on a reddish tidbit and feigning innocence.


    Rhaegar��s smile faltered, and he replied, somewhat irritated, "It��s not empty. There��s still a third left."


    He had raided the renowned Rogare Bank, where the gold was enough tost for decades, even after raising three thousand Fearless. The caveat was avoiding further costly ventures like building Harrenhal, expanding the Mushroom Set Caravan, and constructing the Dragon Nest.


    As they chatted, the duel in the arena neared its climax. Cregan and Cole had shed eight times, breaking severalnces and shields, making for a surprisingly fierce contest.


    The audience was electrified, faces flushed with excitement as they cheered for their favored contestants.


    The ninth chargemenced. Cregan, sweat dripping from his brow beneath his helmet, mped his horse��s belly and panted heavily. His youth and undeveloped physique began to show. Cole, equally sweaty, fixed his gaze on Cregan, gritting his teeth as he urged his horse forward.


    Cole had no desire to remain on the deste Bloodstone Ind; he aimed to return to King''s Landing through this tournament. The Small Council, with Rhaegar''s approval, had decided to select a Kingsguard from thepetition, a fact well known throughout the Seven Kingdoms.


    Cole charged for this purpose.


    ck and white horses thundered towards each other, white and ck intertwining.


    Bang--


    Cregan, d in old te armor, was struck in the lower ribs and toppled from his horse, hitting the ground hard.


    Cole��snce had found its mark, and he rode his white horse swiftly to the finish line.


    ��Well done!��


    ��Well yed...��


    The arena erupted in cheers, the atmosphere chaotic like a market in Flea Bottom.


    The Unsullied, d in ck armor, rushed into the arena with squires and maesters. Confirming that Cregan''s injuries were not severe, they lifted him onto a stretcher and carried him away.


    Cole lifted his face armor, spreading his arms wide in exhration, basking in the audience''s apuse.


    He cast a sideways nce towards the King and Rhaenyra on the high tform. Unfortunately, Viserys was too busy celebrating with Otto, grinning as if he��d won a bet.


    Rhaenyra, her figure partially obscured by Rhaegar in his ck armor, sipped her tea in apparent boredom.


    ...


    The preliminaries ended, and the main event began.


    Rhaegar stood up, lowering his head to nt a light kiss on the back of Rhaenyra��s hand. With a gentle smile, he asked, "No words of encouragement?"


    Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes warm and sincere. "Come back safe, no injuries."


    Rhaegar grinned, giving her a tight hug. "Someone who can hurt me hasn''t been born yet."


    He then made his way off the high tform.


    A few momentster, Rhaegar mounted a gleaming silver horse and entered the martial arts arena, holding ance and shield.


    The rotund referee struck the gong, his voice booming with excitement. "Let��s celebrate the thrilling conclusion of thest duel and wee Prince Rhaegar, Breaker of Shackles, Ruin Maker, and Heir to the Iron Throne of House Targaryen!"


    Rhaegar scanned the crowd, holding his helmet in one hand and raising hisnce high with the other. The audience responded with thunderous apuse, nobledies leaning over the parapet, cheering and waving gands.


    Rhaegar scanned the crowd, holding his helmet in one hand and raising hisnce high with the other. The audience responded with thunderous apuse, nobledies leaning over the parapet, cheering and waving gands.


    It was customary for a knight to receive a gand from ady upon entering the arena. If victorious, the knight would receive a crown of flowers, the crown of love and beauty, to present to his chosendy.


    As the excitement built, the referee, his face flushed, announced, "Prince Rhaegar is about to choose his first opponent!"


    A line of mounted knights, d in armor, awaited their turn. Rhaegar donned his dragon head helmet and rode along the row of knights. Unable to see their faces, he identified them by the crests on their shields.


    He scanned the crests: bow hunters, roaring lions, green towers, blue, green, and red stripes...


    Finally, he focused on a burly knight with a thick waist and a shield bearing the stag of House Baratheon.


    The reason was simple: House Baratheon had no male heirs; this knight was likely one of their bastards. Rhaegar decided to teach him a lesson for this act of deception.


    "Ahem ..."


    As soon as Rhaegar raised hisnce, the silver-armored knight with a tricolor-striped shield let out a muffled cough. The gray-blue eyes behind the facete stared coldly at him.


    Rhaegar barely nced at him before riding up to the knight. One look at the tricolor crest, and he recognized him as Harwin Strong, the eldest son of Lyonel and currentmander of the City Watch.


    "Breakbones" Harwin Strong.


    Rhaegar pointed the tip of hisnce at him and said coolly, "You want to be my opponent?"


    "With honor!" Harwin''s voice was solemn and cold.


    Rhaegar was surprised, not understanding Harwin''s hostility, but epted readily, "So be it."


    The referee cheered excitedly, "For the first round, Prince Rhaegar Targaryen has chosen Harwin ''Breakbones'' Strong, the eldest son of the King''s Hand!"


    On the high tform, Viserys smiled and turned to Lyonel. The meaning was clear: watch how my son beats up yours.


    Lyonel sat with his head bowed, his face sullen, saying nothing.


    On the martial arts field, the contestants prepared themselves. Rhaegar rode around the fence to the open space below the high tform. As he passed a corner, he caught a glimpse of Tormund dressed in ck and white robes. Tormund��s eyes were deep, indicating something about Harwin.


    Rhaegar was suspicious, specting what might have happened.


    He rode to the bottom of the high tform, looking up at Rhaenyra standing proudly. "Where is my gand?" he asked with a smile. "Quickly, bestow the blessing of invincibility in battle."


    Rhaenyra gave him a yful look. "Wait, I''ll fetch it."


    Rhaegar waited patiently, holding his woodennce high, waiting for the gand.


    Meanwhile, in thedies'' seats, Jeyne, Margaery, and three of the Four Storms''dies watched him intently.


    "Roar ..."


    A sharp dragon roar rang out, and a light blue dragon shadow appeared over the arena. Rhaegar looked up to see a young girl with silver-gold curls riding Dreamfyre.


    With Cannibal and Syrax having already made their appearance, Dreamfyre did not cause too much panic. The light blue wings pped gracefully as the dragonnded on the top tform.


    Hena was stunningly dressed, with a red lining inside a long sleeveless ck coat, matching ck pants, and buckskin boots. She looked more like a valiant dragon rider than a spoiled princess.


    "Brother, I''vee to cheer you on."


    Hena climbed off the dragon''s back, carrying a white wreath of flowers, and ran to the front with gusto.


    Rhaegar cocked his head, maintaining his usual kind smile. Recently, he had been spending time with Rhaenyra and hadn''t seen Hena in a while. At first nce, her new look was almost unrecognizable.


    Hena had turned thirteen, and in thest six months of continuous sword practice, her height had skyrocketed, and her figure was developing into a young woman��s.


    Rhaegar lifted hisnce a little and politely refused, "No way, this spot is reserved for Rhaenyra."


    Rhaenyra arrived just in time, holding a red wreath in her hand. Sheughed softly, "Come here."

 Chapter 334: Vhagar and the Blood Wyrm

    Chapter 334: Vhagar and the Blood Wyrm


    Rhaegar raised his chin and adjusted his woodennce, ready for the next challenge.


    "Cheer for me," he said, his voice confident.


    Rhaenyra smiled and sauntered down to the edge of the arena, tossing a red gand with precision. Itnded perfectly on the shaft of Rhaegar''snce, sliding down to rest at its base.


    Hena, watching from the parapet, pouted and slumped with disappointment. Noticing her sister''s dejection, Rhaenyra picked up a white gand and threw it out again, her voice calm and reassuring. "That''s double the encouragement. Don''t let us down."


    Hena''s eyes widened in surprise, her gaze darting between her brother and sister, a spark of hope rekindled.


    Rhaegar retrieved hisnce and smiled brightly. "I will not disappoint you."


    He turned his horse and rode back to the end of the quarantine fence, preparing for the duel.


    Rhaenyra beamed and took Hena''s hand as they walked to the front row and took their seats. They chose seats next to Jeyne, the tension and excitement palpable.


    After weeks of indulging in her temper, Rhaenyra''s state of mind had changed. She felt more open, her spirit lifted by Rhaegar''s presence. His unwavering support had given her strength and confidence.


    ...


    The duel was about to begin on the martial arts field.


    Danng--


    Amidst the crowd''s anticipation, the obese referee struck the gong, and the two warhorses charged forward.


    With the thunderous pounding of hooves, drummers around the arena matched their rhythm to the ring trumpets, elevating the excitement to a fever pitch.


    Rhaegar''s eyes gleamed with focus. His grip on thence was steady, his body leaned forward as his horse galloped ahead.


    Harwin, d in iron armor, his face partially obscured by his helm, radiated a menacing aura.


    In the next moment, the ck armor and silver armor shed. Each knight aimed for the other''s chest, thrusting their longnces.


    Bang...


    Rhaegar''s shield shattered, the force shaking him violently, yet he maintained his bnce and rode on to the finish line.


    Harwin, unable tond a hit, hastily raised his shield to block Rhaegar''snce. The impact nearly unseated him. His shield splintered, and his left arm took a hit, but his armor held firm.


    Danng...


    The referee struck the gong again, signaling the start of the second charge.


    Rhaegar turned his horse, casually grabbing a new shield emzoned with the three-headed red dragon''s emblem from an attendant. He leveled hisnce and charged.


    Though he was a dragon rider, his skills in horseback riding and jousting were only just above average.


    "Hyah!!!"


    Harwin roared, discarding his shield, and spurred his warhorse into a rapid turn, charging with reckless abandon.


    From the high tform, Viserys watched with wide eyes, ncing back at Lyonel in surprise.


    Not only was this tournament a significant event for his eldest son''s adulthood, but Harwin''s behavior seemed off.


    Lyonel''s brows furrowed with concern, but he could do nothing.


    Back in the arena, the sh continued.


    The ck and silver armors collided like two meteors. Rhaegar extended hisnce, aiming for Harwin''s breastte, his shield covering his body.


    "Go down!"


    Harwin bellowed, leaving himself open as he jabbed hisnce downward, aiming to trip Rhaegar''s horse.


    Startled, Rhaegar abandoned his attack, pulling on the reins.


    "Phew~~"


    The silver warhorse reared, its front hooves lifting sharply, narrowly avoiding the blow.


    Harwin turned back, disbelief etched on his face. He hadn''t expected Rhaegar to evade such a sudden attack.


    As the silver warhorse slowed, Rhaegar looked back, his eyes cold.


    ying dirty tricks, are we?" Rhaegar fumed inwardly, his anger ring.


    Tripping a horse''s leg was a grant vition of the joustingpetition rules. At high speeds, such a move could cause both rider and horse to crash disastrously, leading to serious injuries.


    On the high tform, Viserys'' face contorted with rage as he mmed his hand down on the table. Daring to use such underhanded tactics against the Heir was bold and presumptuous.


    If this fight ended badly, Harwin position as the City Watchmander would undoubtedly be in jeopardy.


    In the front row, Rhaenyra stared in shock, her mouth agape. Harwin, once loyal and cautious, seemed to have lost all restraint. Why would he dare attack Rhaegar so brazenly at the tournament?


    "Didn''t he used to listen to you?" Hena asked angrily, her face puffed in frustration.


    "I haven''t been outtely, so how would I know?" Rhaenyra replied, her voice tinged with irritation.


    Nearby, Jeyne and other female spectators covered their mouths, gasping at the unfolding drama. The intensity of these two rounds surpassed the previous nine sparring matches and made hearts race.


    Danglong--


    The gong sounded for the third time.


    "Hyah!" Rhaegar shouted, spurring his horse into a wild gallop, hisnce held low.


    Harwin charged simultaneously, eyes bloodshot, urging his horse on.


    Within moments, the two knights were again on a collision course.


    Harwin, his eyes fierce, aimed hisnce at Rhaegar''s chest, determined to take him down with a single blow. It was his signature move, the one that had earned him the title "Breakbones" in the past.


    Rhaegar, his face cold as frost, charged straight at him.


    Outside the arena, thousands of spectators watched breathlessly, hoping to see the Heir lose in the first round - an historic humiliation.


    Inside the arena, ck armor and white helmets shed, and suddenly an ident urred.


    Harwin brought hisnce down hard, determined to end the duel with a single blow. Unexpectedly, Rhaegar hooked his feet into the stirrups and leaned t against his horse''s back. With a deft twist, he cocked the tip of hisnce.


    A muffled thud echoed as a figure flew through the air.


    Harwin, unable to react in time to Rhaegar''s unexpected move, was struck in the left shoulder by the cockednce, sending him flying seven or eight yards.


    The crowd gasped in shock as Harwin hit the mud with a thud, his heavy armor absorbing much of the impact.


    "Quickly, move forward!" someone shouted.


    Squires and maesters rushed to Harwin, checking his condition and lifting him from the ground.


    "Get away, I''m fine!"


    Harwin shoved the guard aside and staggered to his feet, his eyes zed over with pain. He raised his right hand and found it unharmed, but when he moved his left, a sharp pain shot through his arm.


    "Hiss!"


    Harwin clenched his teeth and inhaled sharply. He looked down at the deep dent in his left shoulder armor and felt as if his scap and arm bones had cracked. When he saw Rhaegar standing tall on his horse in the distance, he shouted, "Give me a sword!


    A squire with a three-colored striped mark on his chest hurriedly handed him a hand-and-a-half sword. The obese referee struck the gong and announced, "Harwin Strong wishes to continue the contest with weapons!"


    Rhaegar rode gracefully on his white horse, his gaze menacing as he looked down upon the enraged Harwin. He had shown mercy by aiming his previous blow away from Harwin''s throat or head.


    "Whatever the reason, this defiance must be quelled!"


    Dismounting gracefully, Rhaegar removed his helm and waved to his squire. The squire quickly handed him his sword, Truefyre. Rhaegar nced at it and then shouted, "Bring me the battleaxe!"


    The Valyrian steel sword was formidable, but it couldn''t easily prate heavy steel armor. He needed a weapon of more brute force.


    The atmosphere on the high tform was tense. Lyman, squeezed into the back row, raised an eyebrow, handed a handful of gold dragons to a young servant with a roaring lion emblem, and whispered,"I''ll wager fifteen gold dragons on Prince Rhaegar to win."


    Viserys, overhearing the whisper, was tempted to bet on his eldest son as well, but his anger held him back.


    Lyonel bowed his head and apologized, "Your Grace, Harwin he..."


    "It''s all right, as long as it''s a fair match, everything''s within reason," Viserys interrupted, trying to control his anger. His words emphasized that fairness was paramount, no dirty tricks allowed.


    The arena fell silent as all eyes returned to the field.


    Rhaegar dropped his shield andnce, now wielding a half-man-sized cold iron battleaxe in his right hand, the two gands still on his left wrist.


    "Ah!!!" Harwin roared, charging with his sword.


    Rhaegar''s lips curled into a cold smile. He deftly twirled the battle-axe, bent his knee, and shed at Harwin''s leg.


    Dang!


    The de bit into Harwin''s steel leg armor, drawing blood. Harwin screamed in agony, cold sweat pouring down his face. His injured leg gave way and he fell to one knee, his hand propping him up with the half-sword.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were icy as he yanked the battle-axe free with a harsh crack, then swung it at Harwin''s exposed back armor. Though not a master of horsemanship, Rhaegar was unparalleled in closebat.


    Danng!


    The axe de struck deep again, cutting a groove in Harwin''s heavy armor and scraping out shards as Rhaegar yanked it free. The impact rattled Harwin''s spine, and despite his armor, he couldn''t withstand the internal shock. A mouthful of blood spurted from his lips as he copsed face-first into the dirt.


    Rhaegar kicked him over and brought the cold axe de down on Harwin''s chest. "Admit defeat!" he demanded coldly.


    "Bah!" Harwin spat bloody foam, his eyes filled with stubborn defiance.


    "Well done," Rhaegar sneered. He raised the battle-axe and brought it down hard on Harwin''s chest armor.


    Harwin grunted, his face turning red as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Before the referee could intervene, Rhaegar pulled the axe free and swung it again at Harwin''s already injured leg.


    **Ka-ching..


    The axe bit into unprotected flesh and bone with a sickening crack, eliciting a scream from Harwin as cold sweat poured down his face.


    "No, no, no, you win, prince!" the obese referee cried in panic, signaling the attendants to stop Rhaegar.


    Several attendants rushed forward, but Rhaegar threw aside his bloodstained battleaxe and gasped, "No need to stop me, I know how to restrain myself."


    Despite his assurance, Harwin''s broken corbone and leg would require years of healing and recovery under a maester''s care.


    Ignoring the squire and maester tending to the unconscious Harwin, Rhaegar mounted his white horse with the intention of riding away. Harwin''s hostility seemed unnatural, and he had to consult Tormund about it.


    After a tense moment, the crowd erupted in apuse, cheering the victorious Heir. The sight of Rhaegar wielding his battleaxe with unstoppable power was awe-inspiring.


    "Roar..."


    Amid the cheers, a low dragon roar echoed from the direction of God''s Eye Lake. Rhaegar frowned and looked to the sky.


    A scarlet behemoth broke through the clouds and swooped down on the martial arts field with a gust of wind. It had tall horns, a slender snake-like body, and broad red wings. This was the Blood Wyrm - Caraxes.


    "Caraxes,nd!" Amanding voice came from the dragon''s dark red scales. Caraxes stretched its neck and let out a sharp roar, descending slowly.


    "Roar!"


    Another dragon roar, heavy as thunder, shook the sky. The thin clouds parted to reveal a huge green dragon with cold amber eyes, scales thick as steel tes, and wings wide enough to darken the ground. It was Vhagar, one of the three first generation Targaryen dragons.


    Vhagar circled the arena and descended, causing the nobles to shield their faces and skirts from the wind.


    Boom!


    Caraxesnded first, its hind feet touching down, followed by its broad wings supporting its weight. Daemon, d in pitch-ck dragon-printed armor with a crimson cloak, sat proudly on the dragon''s back.


    A month ago, Caraxes had healed from its injuries and was back in the skies with Daemon. The dragon''s vertical pupils locked onto Rhaegar, who stood motionless, his silver hair catching the wind.


    Rhaegar anticipated this. He pulled his scarlet cloak over his horse''s head and tightened the reins to control it, remaining calm.


    The roar subsided, and Caraxes'' fierce eyes bore down on the unmoving Rhaegar. From the ck iron saddle, Daemon''s eyes narrowed as he regarded his nephew.


    For a tense moment, uncle and nephew stared each other down, sparks seemingly flying between their gazes.

 Chapter 335: Whose Dragon?

    Chapter 335: Whose Dragon?


    Suddenly.


    Roar--


    A deep, resonant dragon roar echoed like a bell from afar, its long tone filled with a powerful warning.


    Daemon frowned, recognizing the roar as that of the wild dragon beast.


    "Uncle, have youe to the tournament grounds to fight me as well?" Rhaegar spoke first, his tone calm and questioning. "Will it be on horseback or dragonback?"


    Roar--


    The words were barely out of his mouth when a massive, pitch-ck dragon shadow sliced through the sky andnded with a thunderous crash on the eastern side of the arena. Cannibal stood rooted to the ground, its hideous dragon head peering down at Daemon and Caraxes. The dragon''s massive ck wings spread wide, casting a shadow across half the arena.


    "Roar!!"


    Another sharp roar echoed from the direction of God''s Eye Lake. The sky stirred with thin clouds, revealing a light gray dragon shadow.


    With the appearance of four dragons, the audience was electrified. Two behemoths threatened from the east and south, Blood Wyrm crept around the arena, and an unknown dragon lurked in the shadows. Many nobles, sweating profusely, felt the power of the Targaryens.


    On the tform, Viserys nced at Vhagar and straightened his clothes, maintaining his regal bearing. With the world''s greatest dragon standing behind him, there was no room for indifference. He wondered why Vermithor hadn''te to defend his master like Cannibal had.


    Laena dismounted her dragon and walked slowly, her slightly bulging belly showing. She wore a simple white dress with a red vest to show her pregnancy.


    "Your Grace, Daemon and I were preparing a gift for you, which is why we arete," Laena said, curtsying with an apologetic tone.


    Viserys managed a genuine smile. "Never mind, you are pregnant. Please, take a seat."


    Laena touched her stomach and smiled as she took her ce beside her mother, Rhaenys. Her presence eased the tension on the tform and lessened the fear of a confrontation between uncle and nephew.


    Inside the martial arts arena, Daemon noted the presence of Cannibal and the hiding Grey Ghost and realized that his provocation had reached its end. Though reluctant, he knew it was inevitable. As much as he wanted to inherit his brother''s throne, his brother''s six children had broken his line of session.


    Rhaegar held his head up, his eyes gleaming with interest. He relished watching his uncle squirm, trapped and unable to leave the stage gracefully.


    "Heh~"


    Daemon, with a smug air, looked down condescendingly at his nephew, a mocking smile ying on his lips. "Rhaegar, since when did you start stepping out with makeup, are you seeking new femalepanions?"


    Rhaegar''s heart skipped a beat, fixating on the word panions." He feared his roguish uncle was about to publicly expose him. Except for that one incident in Vntis, he had kept his interactions with the Dae sisters strictly proper. But he was clearly mistaken.


    Daemon raised a hand, gesturing to both sides of his face, and continued his taunt, "The lipstick marks left before the tournament seem to have brought you good luck."


    Rhaegar froze, recalling the lipstick marks Margaery had left on his cheeks.


    Dang...


    The obese referee appeared, banging a gong and shouting, "It seems our Prince Rhaegar is very popr with thedies, with kisses aplenty!"


    Rhaegar turned back, ring at the red-faced man with thinly veiled irritation. This meddling fool was tarnishing his reputation.


    "Hahaha~"


    "......"


    Daemon was the first tough, followed by many nobles who had heard the jest, resulting in a chorus ofughter. Rhaegar forced a smile, but his back teeth were clenched in frustration. Still, flirtation was a noble pastime, and he had nothing substantial to lose. He cast a wary nce at his uncle.


    Both were Targaryen male heirs, and Daemon had indulged in far more scandals. There was an unspoken agreement to preserve each other''s dignity.


    However, Rhaegar noticed a mischievous glint in Daemon''s eyes, sensing something amiss. Realizing the ruse, he cursed internally, "Bastard, deliberately misleading."


    Daemon, pleased with himself, stood up from the saddle and climbed down the softdder to the dragon''s back. His bond with Caraxes was strong, often forgoing the use of solid chains on the saddle. d in armor, he didn��t bother fastening the chains this time.


    Rhaegar dismounted, lifting the scarlet cloak from his horse''s head and leading the white horse to the rest area. Despite the intimidating dragon roars, the horse remained steadfast, proving its worth.


    As a squire took the reins, Rhaegar instructed, "Take good care of it. It won''t be in the field for a while."


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes roared, pping his wings and swiftly ascending, his long, snake-like scarlet body undting gracefully. Ignoring the dragon, Rhaegar sought out Tormund.


    Daemon brushed past him, heading toward the king with a triumphant smile.


    ...


    In the Corner of the Arena


    Rhaegar spread his arms wide as two Unsullied helped him remove his armor. Tormund stood behind him, his voice heavy with concern. "Prince, there have been many rumors circting these past few days. I''ve found out two things, one good and one bad."


    "Tell me the bad news first," Rhaegar said, his tone calm but curious as to how bad the bad news was.


    "As for Storm''s End, two bastards are trying to resurrect the family name and inherit House Baratheon," Tormund replied bluntly.


    "Idiots," Rhaegar muttered, frowning. Restoring a family name to bastards was rare, and legitimizing them meant they had a legitimate im to inheritance. Storm''s End was currently under the control of Lady Elenda and Rhaenys, and there had been no mention of these bastards until now.


    Tormund added, "These two bastards are not easy. They, or those behind them, have gained the support of many nobles in the Stornds and even some in the Vale and the Rivends."


    "The House Dondarrion of ckhaven and the House Swann of Stonehelm?" Rhaegar spected.


    "Those two houses are involved, but there''s also an unorganized group behind them," Tormund continued. "Lord Jason of Casterly Rock has openly criticized Lady Jeyne''s rule of the Vale and suggested that the king consider the bastards to inherit Storm''s End."


    He then named the two bastards.


    "The elder one is Bronn Storm, bastard son of thete Lord Boremund, born of a dalliance with the daughter of the Lord of Dondarrion in ckport. He served the Lord of Dondarrion, spent three years as an infantryman, and fought in the wars of the Dornish bordends."


    "The younger one is Arno Storm, bastard son of Lord Borros, born of a tryst with the nursemaid of the eldest son of Lord Swann. He apprenticed to a cksmith before being taken as a knight''s squire by Lord Swann and fought in the Second Battle of the Stepstones."


    "No wonder the old men of Dondarrion and Swann support these bastards," Rhaegar sneered. "What about the good news?"


    Tormund leaned in and whispered, "Larys Strong is dead."


    Rhaegar was momentarily stunned, then remarked, "A month has passed; he should have died by now."


    Larys had been exiled after his trial. Lyonel, worried about his second son dying prematurely, insisted on dying the exile for two months in the Red Keep''s dungeon before sending Larys, along with other prisoners, to the Night''s Watch.


    ording to the slow travel speed of the prison wagon, they should be near the Goldroad by now. Rhaegar had anticipated that the harsh conditions of Goldroad would cause Larys to sumb to illness or an infection caused by midges.


    Tormund shook his head. "Larys didn''t die as we expected. He was burned to death by dragonfire."


    Rhaegar looked shocked.


    Tormund continued, "A few days ago, our scouts lost contact. I went to investigate and found a scorched area in the Goldroad with several charred corpses, including Larys."


    "Larys was a wreck. Who would use a dragon to kill him?" Rhaegar wondered, thinking of potential culprits.


    "Judging by the burn marks, the dragon was at least an adult, not one like Sunfyre, who just reached adulthood," Tormund exined. "I suspect it was the king''s Vermithor."


    Rhaegar fell silent, contemting. The term "adult dragon" was broad, epassing dragons over 60 years old, mature in both size and temperament. Among the adult dragons in the family were Dreamfyre, Sheepstealer, Blood Wyrm, and Red Queen, along with the three behemoths: Vhagar, Cannibal, and Vermithor.


    After a moment, Rhaegar asked, "The other dragons are not suspicious?"


    Tormund replied, "They are a little suspicious, but the king has the best reason to be the most suspicious one."


    Hena traveled daily on Dreamfyre, and Aemond often forced his fianc��e to join him in riding his dragon for fun. After Caraxes was healed, Daemon and Laena rode their dragons beyond the Narrow Sea.


    Initially, Viserys was fascinated with Vermithor, but after a month, he let the dragon roam freely in the Dragon''s Nest on Isle of Faces, asionally going out for a walk, one dragon at a time.


    With the distance between Harrenhal and the Goldroad, Vermithor could make a round trip in half a day, stopping asionally to unleash a puff of Dragonfire with ease.


    Larys made a big mistake and caused a scandal involving the royal family. Viserys had good reason to intercept them halfway.


    Rhaegar thought for a long time before cautiously asking, "Are you sure Larys is dead?"


    A cunning man like Larys would rather cut off his leg than beg for his life, and Rhaegar wouldn''t be sure until he saw the body.


    Tormund thought for a moment and said in a low voice, "There is a charred corpse with a broken leg in the ashes, holding a golden ball in its broken hand.


    Larys had a scepter that never left his side, with a golden cicada carved into the handle that melted into a golden ball.


    Rhaegar''s purple eyes flickered with suspicion. "But why do I feel like he''s not dead?"


    The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed. He understood why Harwin had sought him out in the arena to fight for his life. Harwin probably believed that Rhaegar had lost his credibility and burned his brother, who should have lived. And Viserys was no fool; he wouldn''t do something so obvious.


    Tormund''s eyes lowered, considering the oddity as well.


    "Where do you think a sinister worm escaping death would go?" Rhaegar asked.


    Tormund picked up the thread, "That depends on who rescued it."


    Larys was close to Alicent, making Hena, Aemond, and Aegon suspects. Daemon''s whereabouts were uncertain, making him a suspect as well.


    Rhaegar mused over several potential hiding ces: Stone Hedge, the fiefdom of House Strong; Oldtown of the Hightowers; even Lord Jason��s Casterly Rock, may have a hand in everything. But all these ces had loopholes.


    Stone Hedge was the least likely; Harwin wouldn''t have gone mad and risked serious injury. The Hightowers and Lannisters would probably be protecting themselves, not harboring a criminal.


    Rhaegar''s eyes flickered to Tormund, and they spoke in unison, "The Red Keep!"


    The most likely suspects to rescue Larys were Alicent and Otto, and the Red Keep was a logical ce to hide.


    After months of refinement, the Red Keep was already under Rhaegar''s influence. They immediately sent men to search and arrest, ready to capture Larys.

 Chapter 336: I Want to Sit in The Middle

    Chapter 336: I Want to Sit in The Middle


    The next day, the martial arts arena buzzed with even more excitement than before. The presence of Heir Rhaegar and the Ranger Prince Daemon drew many noble sons and daughters who usually had little interest in the tournament.


    Unfortunately, the long-awaited knightly encounter between uncle and nephew had yet to take ce.


    The grandstand was filled with the kingdom''s most powerful individuals. Viserys sat at the center, nked by Alicent and Otto, with a cluster of royal advisors behind them. To the left and right of the lower tier were Sea Snake Corlys with Rhaenys, and Daemon with Laena. These elders upied the seats closest to Viserys.


    Rhaenyra and Rhaegar arrivedter, naturally iming seats in the front row, which offered a prime view and small tables with refreshments, fruits, and vegetables.


    Rhaenyra was followed by her two young foster daughters, whom she patted gently on the head before sending them off with a smile, "Go y with your mother."


    "Uh-huh," the twins nodded eagerly and dashed towards Laena with delight.


    As Rhaegar was still choosing his seat, he noticed the person next to him disappearing in a blink. When he turned around, he was taken aback by an unexpected sight.


    Rhaenyra, walking gracefully, was greeted warmly by Jeyne, who rose to meet her. The two women embraced, much to Rhaegar''s surprise.


    For a moment, Rhaegar was uncertain whether to approach or not. Unbeknownst to him, a silent rivalry yed out between the two women.


    As they hugged, Rhaenyra whispered in Jeyne''s ear, "It''s been a long time, Jeyne."


    "Indeed it has. Yesterday, you didn''t even greet me," Jeyne retorted, poking Rhaenyra''s back.


    Rhaenyra, not missing a beat, replied, "Shows you know you''re in the wrong."


    Jeyne smiled, "Rhaenyra, do you know that Rhaegar has still been in contact with me these past three years?"


    "Of course," Rhaenyra replied, pulling back to look her friend in the eye. "If it weren''t for my generosity, you wouldn''t even get any leftovers."


    Jeyne''s smile faded, her expression changing to one of anger. "What do you mean, ''leftovers''? Just because we have small gatherings every few months doesn''t mean it''s anything bad."


    Rhaenyra blinked and lowered her voice, "You''re useless. I''d like to see you pregnant with a bastard child."


    "Rhaenyra, you''re insane!" Jeyne''s face turned pale with rage.


    Rhaenyra''s words had struck a nerve. Jeyne''s ambition, fueled by her sess in ruling the Vale, had indeed led her to consider having a bastard child to secure her position. She hoped that Rhaegar, as heir, could restore the bastard''s family name, even if the child was named Arryn.


    Rhaenyra regained herposure quickly and studied Jeyne''s reaction closely. The difort and anger in Jeyne''s eyes confirmed her suspicions about her intentions. Rhaenyra was not entirely heartless, but she wanted to test her former friend''s resolve and ambition.


    Allowing Rhaegar to meet with Jeyne in private had been a calcted move to keep an eye on her. This little provocation was meant to draw out Jeyne''s true intentions.


    Realizing she had been yed, Jeyne felt a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. She had been on edge, dreading the day she might actually meet Rhaenyra, and this encounter only added to her anxiety.


    Rhaenyra sighed and smoothed her skirt before sitting down in a chair. She began to persuade, "Jeyne, please return to the Vale obediently. I can overlook this."


    They were bound by blood and had been steadfast allies in the hardest of times.


    Three years shed through Rhaenyra''s mind, her fighting spirit momentarily subdued as she avoided making a scene.


    Jeyne''s eyes flickered, sensing an underlying meaning in Rhaenyra''s words, though it may have been a mistake.


    In silence, they both took their seats, legs crossed, faces turned slightly away, eyes closed in silent contemtion.


    Watching from afar, Rhaegar frowned immediately.


    As Rhaenyra and Jeyne spoke, the nobledies and young women in the front row, who were close to both, tactfully vacated their seats so as not to be drawn into a conflict.


    Now there was an empty seat between Rhaenyra and Jeyne, as if presenting Rhaegar with a multiple choice question.


    At the high table, Viserys noticed and watched in disbelief, silently sweating for his eldest son.


    He had had his share of lovers in his youth... and more recently.


    His first wife, Aemma Arryn, had received a rigorous upbringing in House Arryn, known for its strength and integrity. She had beenpassionate, openly chastising Daemon for disrespecting his former wife, Lady Rhea, and helping starving orphans in Flea Bottom.


    However, she has also been emotionally demanding, insisting that Viserys give up his habit of visiting brothels and wielding considerable influence within the Red Keep.


    Rhaenyra, their eldest daughter, had inherited her mother''s strength of character to perfection.


    As far as Viserys knew, Rhaegar had not been involved with another woman besides Lady Jeyne of the Vale.


    Rhaegar hesitated...


    Meanwhile, the sharp-eyed Laena also noticed the situation, her gaze fixed intently on Rhaegar, wondering how her cousin would handle it.


    Daemon, though he had many mistresses, had a more liberal family style and she usually avoided such entanglements when they didn''t surface directly.


    Sensing the tension, Rhaenys looked at her daughter with a hint of disdain.


    Why had she chosen Daemon as her husband?


    After many years of marriage to Corlys, she hadn''t heard a whisper of him seeking a mistress.


    A woman incapable of recognizing such things did not deserve a good marriage.


    Rhaegar slowly made his way to his seat, his eyes darting back and forth between the two women, their eyes closed in contemtion.


    When he reached his seat, he hesitated for a moment before settling down.


    Rhaenyra and Jeyne opened their eyes almost simultaneously, each noticing the empty seat next to them.


    Turning his head, Rhaegar sat down in the empty space between them, waved an attendant over and ordered, "Bring a table and some refreshments."


    The servant quickly brought a moderately sized square table with an assortment of pastries delicately arranged on it.


    Rhaegar poured three cups of tea, cing them strategically on either side of the table, and took the remaining cup for himself.


    He couldn''t solve the tension between the two women, but he could serve as a buffer.


    The tea scalded his mouth, a physical reminder of his unexpectedly bold actions today.


    Jeyne''s eyes softened slightly as she lifted her teacup, blowing gently over the surface before taking a sip, quietly watching the unfolding drama.


    Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes at Rhaegar, picked up her own teacup, and took a measured sip. She carefully picked up a piece of pastry, savoring each bite.


    "Thepetition downstairs is quite fierce," Rhaenyra ventured, breaking the silence.


    Rhaegar grasped Rhaenyra''s hand gently, showing his favor to his sister.


    "It''s quite engaging," he replied softly.


    Rhaenyra withdrew her hand and gave him a warning look.


    If he was going to hold hands, he should do it openly and honestly, not sneakily trying to appease her and Jeyne at the same time.


    Rhaenyra was used to winning, and extending her hand to Jeyne was more a gesture of superiority than anything else.


    ...


    Time passed, and the tournament began.


    Following yesterday''s knights'' duels, today''s event featured a group tournament��a melee with multiple participants.


    Danng!


    The referee''s gong echoed across the battlefield as fifty armored knights stepped forward.


    Most of them were lesser known knights who were struggling to assemble aplete set of armor, horse, and weapons. Many were also defeatedpetitors from yesterday''s one-on-one duels.


    From his elevated position in the stands, Rhaegar watched thepetitors closely.


    Among them were familiar faces like the Tullys-Elmo Tully and Edmure Tully.


    The Old Lord Tully had previously announced that his two sons and grandson would fight a fair duel, with the winner earning the right to inherit Riverrun.


    Yesterday, the less skilled Milov Tully was knocked off his horse in the first round. Today, the still-determined Edmure and Elmo faced the formidable Daemon, known for his horsemanship, and were defeated.


    Thus, the Tullys had little sess on the first day of the tournament.


    Undaunted, Edmure and Elmo each gathered a group of followers to participate in the current melee tournament in hopes of making aeback.


    Two other notable figures stood out on the field:


    Arryk, d in silver armor and a white cloak and Cregan Stark, hailed from Winterfell. He had chosen topete in the team event after being defeated by Cole in an earlier match.


    Arryk had been sent by his father Viserys, at Rhaegar''s repeated request, to aid the Tullys.


    Old Tully, favoring his grandson Elmo, had agreed to relinquish thirty percent of Riverrun''s profits and an additional share of the Mushroom Set''s benefits in the uing year to secure Arryk''s assistance.


    Dangang!


    The obese referee''s gong sounded once more, signaling the start of the melee.


    Poof!


    As Elmo drew his sword, a sudden strike from behind pierced through a gap in his armor, plunging into his waist and near his eye.


    "There''s a traitor!" his followers cried out, swiftly turning on the assant, cutting him down and shielding the pale-faced Elmo as he retreated to safety.


    Edmure chuckled wildly, leading his followers in a relentless pursuit that drove his nephew Elmo to the edge in a swift exchange.


    High in the stands, Rhaegar frowned deeply.


    "I never expected rough Edmure to y such a cunning game so well," he muttered to himself.


    "That one is Lord Borros'' bastard son, Arno Storm," Jeyne interjected from the sidelines, pointing to a heavily armored knight on the other side of the arena.


    Rhaegar followed her gesture, his gaze resting on the knight wielding a war hammer with a powerful grip.


    "Why is he in the group tournament?" Rhaegar wondered aloud.


    "Arnocks skill in riding, so he''s using the group tournament to make a name for himself," Jeyne exined softly.


    Rhaegar nodded thoughtfully.


    "Elmo won''tst," Rhaenyramented between bites of pastry.


    Fighting back a smile, Rhaegar wiped a bit of cream from her mouth and turned his attention back to the melee.


    On the field below, Edmure pressed his attack fiercely while Arryk joined the fray, rallying Elmo''s followers against the attackers.


    Suddenly, Arno, the bastard knight from across the field, charged forward, smashing Arryk''s longsword aside with a thunderous blow from his hammer.


    "Wow!" The crowd erupted in surprise as they saw the Kingsguard member disarmed.


    Arryk quickly rolled aside, retrieved his longsword, and engaged the towering, heavily armored knight in a heated duel.


    The melee intensified with flying strikes and desperate defenses, creating a chaotic spectacle.


    Seeing that Arryk was outnumbered, the unopposed Cregan rushed in to help, wielding his massive sword to dispatch three enemies in quick session.


    As the melee drew to a close, the sounds of battle subsided, leaving only a handful of the original fifty standing.


    Among them were Cregan, Arno, Arryk, Elmo, and Edmure.


    Dangang!


    The referee''s gong signaled the end of the teampetition.


    "One out of ten, as usual," someone remarked.


    Elmo was carried away on a stretcher by his squire while a Maester tended to his wounds, grateful that the armor had deflected the longsword from doing more serious damage.


    Edmure, reeling from his defeat, returned with a grim expression, moving slowly with a bruised face, resigned to his loss.


    Suddenly, a jet of ck blood erupted from Edmure''s mouth and he copsed to the ground, twitching twice before lying still.


    "Guard! Guard!" the referee shouted in rm, calling for the Fearless soldiers to intervene.


    When they turned Edmure over, it was obvious that he had been poisoned, causing amotion among the crowd.


    Rhaegar shot to his feet in disbelief, stunned that anyone would daremit murder so brazenly.


    Viserys, seated above, rose as well, whispering urgently to Otto to calm the restless crowd.

 Chapter 337: Larys Ambushed

    Chapter 337: Larys Ambushed


    The unexpected death of Edmure, one of the candidates for the session of Riverrun, caused quite a stir.


    Both Rhaegar and Otto moved swiftly to maintain order. The Unsullied soldiers quickly took control of the situation, while the maester examined the body to determine the cause of death.


    The result was conclusive: Edmure had been poisoned with a lethal toxin that acted instantly. The poison hade from the dagger he used when attacking his nephew, Elmo.


    Setting aside the intricate details and motivations, the incident was officially dered a case of civil unrest within the Tully House, with Edmure held responsible for his own demise.


    Opinions were sharply divided, but many nobles seemed content to watch the drama unfold.


    With the situation under control, the tournament continued.


    ...


    Harrenhal, Sanctuary.


    Edmure''s bodyy in the hall, carefully handled by two Silent Sisters. Old Tully stood nearby, his clouded eyes shing with sadness and numbness. He had hoped to prevent his heirs from killing each other, but fate had other ns.


    In the background, Viserys, Rhaegar, and several other prominent figures had gathered. Alicent and Rhaenys were absent, choosing to remain in the tourneyarena.


    Rhaegar stood quietly, his mind reying the events that led to Edmure''s death. Another poisoning, carried out in a disturbingly familiar manner.


    "Prince," Tormund called softly as he approached.


    "Have you found the true culprit?" Rhaegar asked bluntly.


    Tormund nodded. "Lord Tully''s second son, Milov. He didn''t take part in the Group Tournament, but he gave a dagger to his follower and had him support Edmure, hoping to profit from the chaos."


    Rhaegar''s gaze shifted to Milov, who was whispering to two priests in the Sanctuary. After a moment''s thought, Rhaegar felt that the situation was moreplex.


    Old Tully was mediocre and ipetent, and his heirs were hardly capable of such a cunning plot.


    "Any news from King''s Landing?" Rhaegar asked, ncing sideways at Tormund.


    Tormund shook his head. "The raven is on its way; it''s being investigated."


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed. "Search Harrenhal thoroughly. Don''t leave a single rat hole unchecked."


    Tormund was taken aback for a moment, but then understood Rhaegar''s suspicion. Edmure''s death bore the mark of Larys'' handiwork, leading Rhaegar to suspect that Larys might be hiding in Harrenhal, taking advantage of the chaos of the tournament.


    "I''ll have the message delivered before dark," Tormund assured, then exited the sanctuary.


    Suddenly, an angry cry echoed through the sanctuary. "Get out! Get out of here at once!" It was Old Tully, pointing a shaking finger at Milov and the two priests behind him. Milov, cursed and humiliated, retreated into the crowd, while the priests, faces pale, retreated in embarrassment.


    Rhaegar stepped forward.


    "What are you doing?" Rhaenyra asked quietly, tugging at his cloak.


    "Checking on Old Tully," Rhaegar replied, moving through the crowd.


    Most of the people were there out of respect for the Lord of Riverrun. Old Tully, exhausted and distraught, slumped to the ground.


    Rhaegar approached, crouched down, and said quietly, "Old Tully, you must know who the murderer is."


    Old Tully''s head hung, overwhelmed with grief.


    Rhaegar squeezed his shoulder and gave Milov a meaningful look. "This situation has outside interference. If you can''t handle it, I''ll handle it for you."


    Milov huddled next to Aegon, trembling and unable to meet anyone''s eyes. Behind them stood Ormund Hightower, watching with a yful expression.


    Old Tully''s eyes flickered between his second son, Milov, and the priests. Finally he spoke in a hard voice, "Prince, the payment I promised you remains unchanged."


    The priests had just approached Old Tully and suggested that Milov inherit Riverrun City. They cited Edmure as an example, iming that his fate was a result of his fearlessness in battle.


    It was clear that the n to kill Edmure and his potential heirs was Milov''s idea.


    Seeing that Old Tully was still coherent, Rhaegar patted his shoulder in silentfort. Milov''s involvement in Larys''s murder was just another piece of the puzzle.


    ...


    Not long after, the congregation left the sanctuary.


    Most returned to the Kingspyre Tower to rest, while others wandered the gardens.


    Rhaegar walked in silence, pondering which dragon had rescued Larys. His first suspicion fell on Daemon. Larys had been tortured for information during his imprisonment in the King''s Landing dungeon. The murder of Borros seemed aimed at pulling Daemon into the fold. Given Daemon''s chaotic nature, it was likely he had orchestrated Larys''s escape.


    With this in mind, Rhaegar approached the disinterested Daemon and said directly, "Uncle, Larys is missing."


    Their rtionship was tooplex for subtleties; straightforwardness was best.


    Daemon turned, his eyes first surprised, then contemptuous, proving his innocence with his expression. Had he been guilty, he would have disyed smugness.


    Unable to stand Daemon''s nk stare, Rhaegar nodded apologetically and prepared to move away.


    "Wait," Daemon spoke faintly.


    Rhaegar took a deep breath, summoning his patience.


    Daemon looked him up and down and sneered, "Let me tell you something it was a thief."


    Rhaegar was stunned for a moment. He nced through the crowd, noting the different expressions on their faces.


    "A thief..." Rhaegar murmured, beginning to see something.


    Aegon was being pestered by Milov. Ormund Hightower was traveling with them, seemingly discussing something. Hena hung behind her father, her head drooping distractedly. Aemond, who had fallen behind the group, was shing his face at Cassandra, making his fianc��e tremble with anger.


    None of his younger siblings seemed normal.


    Momentster, the arrogant Jason Lannister approached Aegon, apanied by the bastard Bronn Storm. Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed.


    He called, "Aegon,e here."


    It was clear that Ormund had meddled with the Tullys, and Jason had the Baratheons in mind. Both were flirting with Aegon, trying to draw him into their ns.


    At Rhaegar''s call, Ormund and Jason nced over and then quickly looked away. Aegon sulked, nced at Milov in disgust, and reluctantly walked over to his older brother. He hated the Tully more than Rhaegar at that moment.


    Facing each other, Aegon muttered, "Milov turned to the Faith of the Seven for help, and the Faith has ties to Ormund Hightower. That''s all I know."


    Rhaegarughed, gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and said, "Not a bad idea to stay away from them."


    Aegon''s hint helped Rhaegar piece things together. Ormund Hightower was likely behind the plot, and had joined forces with the Faith of the Seven and Milov to kill Edmure and Elmo. Elmo had survived and was now trying to gain more support by bringing Aegon into their fold.


    Rhaegar''s eyes shifted to Jason and the bastard Bronn. Jason was a self-righteous schemer; perhaps he too was trying to draw Aegon in.


    ...


    As the night wore on, the sky grew cooler as dark clouds gathered, bringing a torrential downpour.


    Inside the Kingspire Tower, in the Hall of a Hundred Hearths, the nobles gathered as usual for a festive dinner. The brutality of the tourneywas of no concern to them; they only cared about the intensity of the fighting and the spectacle of bloodshed.


    Outside, the rain poured relentlessly, turning the night into a scene of near-total darkness. Lightning shed, illuminating the legions of Fearless soldiers surrounding Harrenhal Castle for a brief moment.


    A bridge connected the Kingspyre Tower to the Widow''s Tower, where hundreds of ck-armored Unsullied stood guard, undeterred by the rain.


    Crunch-


    The door of the Kingspyre Tower opened, and a ck-robed figure stepped out, bracing against the wind and rain.


    ��Prince!�� Gray Worm stepped out of the queue, speaking in a deep voice.


    The ck-robed figure turned slightly, revealing Rhaegar��s grim face under the hood.


    Together, master and servant crossed the bridge, their figures soon swallowed by the entrance to the Widow��s Tower.


    Crackle!


    Another bolt of lightning struck, making Harrenhal��s eerie darkness even more foreboding. The storm��s low-pressure atmosphere hinted at brewing chaos.


    Rhaegar descended the spiral staircase of the Widow��s Tower. The dim corridor was lit by flickering candles, swaying in the asional draft.


    After a short descent, they reached the depths of the Widow��s Tower. Initially built as a dungeon by the sinister Harren the ck, the underground structure held many secrets.


    Rhaegar searched around the dungeon until he found a hidden mechanism on an old wall.


    Click.


    The mechanism moved, and the wall slowly turned, revealing a deep tunnel.


    ��Follow me, open the way ahead,�� Rhaegarmanded.


    Gray Worm led the way, followed by two Unsullied. Rhaegar carried a torch, his eyes cold and focused.


    The tunnel twisted and turned, leading to an old, weathered wooden door at the end.


    Bang...


    Gray Worm kicked the door open powerfully.


    Escorted by the Unsullied, Rhaegar stepped forward.


    Before themy a small, dimly lit room. Theyout was modest, with tables, chairs, and benches, and walls adorned with carvings and frescoes. A faint smell of mold lingered in the air.


    Inside, an old acquaintance revealed himself: Larys, with curly brown hair, dressed in a dark green tunic. His usual sophistication was gone, reced by a bearded face and forlorn eyes. His left pant leg hung limply.


    Larys sat on a chair, carving a scepter with a knife. Wood shavings covered the tabletop.


    Surprised by the sudden intrusion, Larys turned, his gray-blue eyes flickering.


    Swish-


    Rhaegar unsheathed Truefyre, the pitch-ck sword reflecting an ebony light. He gazed icily at Larys, his expression unyielding.


    ��Larys, we meet again,�� Rhaegar said, his voice cold.

 Chapter 338: There’s a Dragon Baby!

    Chapter 338: There��s a Dragon Baby!


    Larys'' face turned sharp, and the scepter in his hand ttered to the ground.


    He had expected to be discovered eventually, but not this soon.


    Rhaegar raised his sword to Larys'' throat, his eyes cold and unyielding. "You would be wise to name the person who used you," he demanded in a deep voice.


    "Prince, I can serve you," Larys begged, leaning back and trying to struggle free.


    The tip of the sword thrust forward, piercing his flesh and drawing a thin trickle of blood.


    Rhaegar''s patience was limited. He sneered, "You know I don''t trust people with treacherous minds."


    Larys exhaled shakily and admitted, "It''s Otto and Ormund Hightower."


    He decided that honesty was his best chance.


    "Otto saw my usefulness and orchestrated a staged death to save me and take me under his wing. Ormund Hightower was the one who carried it out. Instead of turning me over to Otto, he kept me hidden, nning to use me to eliminate the Tully heirs. He allied himself with the Faith of the Seven to support Edmure''s rise to power, hoping to bind the Hightowers and the Tullys together."


    Ormund had promised Larys a ship and enough gold to livefortably in Braavos once his task wasplete.


    "You''re willing to spend the rest of your life cowering in Braavos?" Rhaegar half asked.


    Larys lowered his head in despair. "My identity in Westeros is tarnished. Braavos is my only option."


    Rhaegar considered this, then asked the crucial question, "Which dragon saved you?"


    If Otto and Ormund had orchestrated the rescue, it implicated several of Alicent''s children.


    "One?" Larys grinned, "It was two. Princess Helena''s Dreamfyre and Prince Aemond''s Sheepstealer."


    An exiled cripple was worth two dragons?


    Rhaegar remained silent, his gaze cold and piercing.


    "I''d rather believe it was Daemon or Aegon," he thought.


    Larys, feeling the need to borate, continued, "Dreamfyre killed everyone, and Sheepstealer took me to Ormund Hightower. We met at the Crossroads Inn; your means can confirm that."


    A sh of suspicion crossed Rhaegar''s eyes, sensing a trap in Larys'' words.


    "Enough. What are your final words?" Rhaegar''s patience was wearing thin.


    "There are nost words," Larys replied, clutching his staff. His eyes bored into Rhaegar''s as he delivered a final warning, "You should watch the movements of Braavos. Thest Sea Lord died in mysterious circumstances."


    Pfft...


    The tip of the sword pierced Larys'' throat, the de slicing with deadly precision.


    Larys'' body froze, his eyes zing over. Blood spurted from his jugr, staining his dark green tunic.


    Plop...


    Rhaegar pulled Truefyre back, and Larys'' body crumpled to the ground.


    Even in death, Larys clung to his scepter.


    Rhaegar looked down at the fallen man, the tip of Truefyre touching the ground. His hands gripped the hilt of the sword, the octagonal, fiery red heart at the end of the hilt glowing with a fierce aura.


    Boom...


    mes erupted from the sword and quickly engulfed the corpse. The fire crackled and burned, reducing everything to ash and debris in a matter of moments.


    ...


    Hall of a Hundred Hearths


    Rhaegar walked through the rain, shedding his drenched ck robes and changing into a set of ck robes.


    Harrenhal was his fiefdom and he had to appear at every banquet.


    Step by step, Rhaegar descended the stairs as Ser Steffon of the Kingsguard announced his arrival.


    "Wee Prince Rhaegar of House Targaryen, Breaker of Shackles, Ruin Maker, and Heir to the Iron Throne."


    Apanied by a fine drumbeat, the nobles who had gathered saluted thete-arriving Heir Prince.


    The Hall of One Hundred Hearths was immense. The distance from the floor to the ceiling alone was tens of feet, and thirteenrge chandeliers each held dozens of tallow candles.


    Despite the grandeur of the hall, with more than thirty fireces burning incense, the vast space felt empty even with thousands of people gathered there.


    Viserys sat in the center of the hall, a wide table in front of him filled with delicious delicacies. He greeted Rhaegar warmly, "Rhaegar, share a drink with your father."


    Beside him, Alicent served patiently, while several royal advisors apanied him as he drank.


    Passing through the grandly arranged scene, Rhaegar casually took a cup of sweet fruit wine from a servant''s tray.


    When he reached the front of the room, Rhaegar pulled Grand Maester Orwyle aside and asked, "How is Father''s health these days?"


    "His Grace''s health is stable, with no signs of inmmation in the wounds," Orwyle replied solemnly.


    Rhaegar nodded, understanding the meaning. His father''s wounds could not be healed, but at least they were not getting worse. It might have something to do with the taming of Vermithor or the medicine Orwyle had changed.


    Rhaegar patted Orwyle on the shoulder and took his seat.


    He raised his ss and sipped his wine, keeping an eye on his surroundings.


    Rhaenyra was not in the hall; the maid said she was not feeling well and had gone to bed.


    Alicent yed the role of a dutiful wife and mother, diligently tending to her ailing husband.


    Lyonel and Otto sat at another table, both looking distracted. One worried that his eldest son had insulted the crown prince, the other angry that his own brother had gone too far.


    Ormund Hightower sat next to Aegon, his arm around his nephew,ughing and sipping wine.


    Rhaegar scanned the room, finally focusing on Hena and Aemond.


    Hena had made some new friends: Margaery, the Rose of Highgarden, and Maris, second in line to the Four Storms. The three girls, of simr ages, were gathered together, enjoying refreshments and chatting happily.


    As for Aemond...


    "Rhaegar, I''ll sit with you."


    Leaving his fianc��e Cassandra behind, Aemond squeezed in next to his big brother.


    Rhaegar put his arm around Aemond''s shoulder and whispered, "You don''t like Cassandra?"


    "She''s a self-righteous fool," Aemond bristled, not hiding his contempt.


    Rhaegar admonished, "You''re already engaged. Cassandra hasn''t inherited Storm''s End yet, so you should be a little more tolerant."


    "I know," Aemond waved his hand, not wanting to discuss it any further.


    "You''d better," Rhaegar murmured, looking at his brother for a moment.


    He thought about what Larys had said. Hena and Aemond''s involvement with this was a potential crack in the family''s unity.


    On the other side


    Jason straightened his disheveled blond hair and led the two Baratheon bastards with confident strides.


    Viserys took a sip of wine and looked at the illogical trio in surprise.


    "Your Grace," Jason nodded in a respectful greeting.


    Viserys set down his wine, his gaze sweeping over the two bastards. He hesitated, "Lord Jason, those two behind you?"


    He recognized them - the bastards driven from the Stornds - but they should not be in his presence.


    Jason waved, "Your Grace, the death of Lord Borros was heartbreaking, and Storm''s End has lost its male heir."


    "These two beside me have some Baratheon blood in their veins, and they hope to win your favor by winning the tournament."


    The two bastards stepped forward and knelt respectfully on one knee.


    Viserys'' face darkened with displeasure, "Though Lord Borros is gone, his bloodline is still in the world, and there is no need for bastards to y the hero."


    Pointing at the two bastards, he sneered, "Not to mention that they are no heroes either."


    "Your Grace, they still have some martial arts skills. Perhaps they can be selected for the Kingsguard."


    Jason was clearly prepared, his words rounded with fullness.


    Viserys frowned, "Then let thempete fairly and win the approval of the Small Council."


    His mental preference for the Kingsguard was Criston Cole. Loyal, brave and indomitable.


    Jason pressed on, grinning, "Of course, every honor must be earned."


    The two bastards had no room for honor and retreated in disgrace.


    Instead, more nobles from the Stornds, the Rivends, and the Vale stepped forward to question the qualifications of a female heir.


    With a turn of his head, Rhaegar surveyed the scene at the banquet.


    Jeyne, in a long, slender gown, had joined Helena''s small group at some point, chatting happily with Margaery and Maris.


    What these noble forces were questioning was not only Cassandra''s inheritance, but the legitimacy of female inheritance.


    If Cassandra''s inheritance of Storm''s End was denied, there would be those who would use it to deny Jeyne''s rule of the Vale.


    Duke Tyrell of Highgarden had lost his heir, and Margaery''s situation was simr to Cassandra''s.


    That''s why some of the nobles of the Rivends joined forces with the nobles of the Stornds to oppose the female heir.


    The nobles of the continent of Westeros were archaic and opposed women in positions of power.


    "Che, two bastards, how dare they presume to be heirs," Aemond scorned.


    Rhaegar stood up and rationalized, "They are testing Father''s bottom line."


    Viserys reacted well; no matter what the nobles said, it was all superficial.


    That was good - not taking a stand was the attitude.


    Rhaegar left silently and walked up the stairs.


    He had also promised something to Old Tully and had to send someone to keep an eye on it.


    ...


    The Lord''s Bedroom, Top Floor of the Tower


    Creak��


    The door to the room swung open and Rhaegar stepped inside, pushing back the darkness. Outside, the rain pelted down, its monotonous sound serving as a natural luby.


    By the faint light of the firece, the outline of a delicate figure was visible beneath a thin quilt on the bed. Rhaenyray on her side, her long silver-golden hair cascading loosely over her pillow, her cheeks slightly flushed from drinking, and she snored softly.


    Rhaegar approached quietly and lifted a lock of hair from her face.


    "Rhaegar, stop it, you''re so cold~"


    Rhaenyra murmured softly, tucking her pale neck further under the nket, showing no signs of waking.


    Rhaegar smiled in amusement. She could eat and sleep without a care; no wonder the maesters couldn��t find anything wrong with her.


    He fetched a nket andy down by the fire, slowly closing his eyes. The chill in the room seemed to vanish with the warmth of the fire.


    ...


    A dream came unexpectedly.


    It was the same familiar room, the same familiar bed, the same familiar firece...


    Rhaegar opened his eyes, still wrapped in the nket he had used before going to bed. The sound of rain continued outside the window, the ss panes rattling under its force.


    He rose and walked to the bed.


    Rhaenyra remained in her side sleeping position, peacefully undisturbed. But this time Rhaegar noticed something different: in her armsy two sleeping babies.


    His eyes widened as he realized the significance.


    The babies were small, their faces pale and cherubic, nestled face to face in Rhaenyra''s embrace. He couldn''t make out their individual features, but both had a faint stubble of silver-gold hair.


    Rhaegar''s heart raced and his fingers trembled as he gently touched one of the babies'' cheeks. The skin was soft and smooth.


    "Bark~"


    The baby''s pink mouth wriggled, a tiny leg kicking up awkwardly before the infant rolled over and burrowed deeper into Rhaenyra''s arms.


    In that moment, as the baby moved, Rhaegar saw a small birthmark.


    "Thank you very much Balerion," he whispered, half kneeling beside the bed, not wanting to miss a moment of this vision.


    He had never believed in the gift of prophetic dreams more than he did at that moment.

 Chapter 339: House Targaryen Intimidation

    Chapter 339: House Targaryen Intimidation


    The Next Morning


    The sun had barely risen when Rhaegar, still sound asleep, was abruptly awakened by a soft goose feather pillow hitting his body. Groggily, he turned to look in the direction of the bed.


    Rhaenyra was sitting up, her silk nightgown clinging to her form, her long hair disheveled and cascading over her smooth shoulders.


    The sight jolted Rhaegar''s memory and he instantly recalled the dream from the night before. Sleepiness vanished as excitement took its ce.


    Rhaenyra moved to the edge of the bed, her eyes bright and curious. Rhaegar could not resist asking, "Rhaenyra, do you feel... different?"


    He needed to know if the dream had been a premonition.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes, still slightly red from sleep, showed a mixture of irritation and helplessness. Her delicate face, pale as porcin, looked almost tearful.


    "Are you unwell?" Rhaegar asked, concern in his voice.


    "I''m just so hungry!" Rhaenyra murmured, her voice small. Tears welled up in her eyes, reflecting her frustration with the limited meals.


    Rhaegar had limited her to three full meals a day, but after indulging in extra pastries the night before, she had woken up in the middle of the night starving.


    "You''re hungry?" Rhaegar''s eyes widened in recognition.


    He rose quickly and opened the door to her room. Kingsguard Lorent and the maid Sara stood guard outside.


    "Prepare breakfast," he ordered, a broad smile spreading across his face. "Make enough for five."


    Rhaegar believed he had found the cause of Rhaenyra''s mood swings and insatiable hunger��two little ones growing inside her.


    Sara moved quickly, and soon arge tray of delicious food was brought in.


    Rhaegar took the tray and set it before Rhaenyra, his voice full of affection, "Eat up, eat up."


    Rhaenyra eyed him suspiciously, but tentatively took a piece of cream cake. No one stopped her as she began to eat, and she quickly realized that it was safe to indulge.


    Delighted, she grabbed various pies and pastries, stuffing her cheeks like a hamster.


    Rhaegar watched her with a mixture of delight and concern, holding her gently as she ate.


    Her violet eyes sparkled as she raised arge ss of milk to her lips.


    "Eat slowly," Rhaegar advised, smoothing the ends of her hair. "There''s plenty of time."


    Despite the rush, today was the third day of the tournament, and a great feast awaited - a feast that only dragons could truly appreciate.


    It was a subtle warning to those who might stir up trouble.


    ...


    On the north shore of God''s Eye Lake: The Martial Arts Field


    After a night of relentless rain, the morning dawned surprisingly clear, with white clouds dotting the sky and a fresh breeze invigorating the air. A carriage rolled through the rain-soaked, muddy roadway and came to a stop at the open-air horse gallery by theke.


    Inside the martial arts arena, nobles of various ranks arrived as expected, gathering in small groups to discuss thetest rumors��chief among them the Tully family infighting and the question of Storm��s End Castle��s heir.


    Those with keen interest cast nces toward the grand tform, hoping to catch a glimpse of the king��s demeanor. Her Grace the Queen and a group of advisers were present, but no Targaryens were in sight.


    Jason, searching the tform, approached the Sea Snake Corlys and inquired, "Lord Corlys, why aren''t His Grace and Princess Rhaenys here?"


    "They will be here soon," Corlys replied haughtily, his tone dismissive.


    Jason, feeling slighted, withdrew with a sour expression. Corlys, indifferent, continued to rub the armrests of his chair, his eyes deep and contemtive. The Second Battle of the Stone Steps Inds had cost House Vryon dearly, but their wealth and legacy remained intact. In the Seven Kingdoms, the Vryons of Driftmark were still second only to House Targaryen.


    Time passed, and the tournament''s start was imminent. As the royal family members werete, the nobles grew restless. They were particrly eager to witness the duel between Rhaegar, the heir to the Iron Throne, and Prince Daemon the Rogue Prince. The previous day, the sight of Cannibal and Blood Wyrm Caraxes had left everyone in awe, and they eagerly anticipated thepetition between the dragonriders.


    Dang!


    The obese referee, d in a big red robe, excitedly shouted, "Your honorable Grace will be here soon. Let us wee the arrival of the dragons!"


    The nobles muttered andined, eager to see the promised spectacle.


    "Roar!!!"


    A piercing dragon roar suddenly echoed through the sky, causing the crowd to look up. A massive bronze dragon soared into view, its wide brown wings beating the air, and its fierce dragon head roaring angrily.


    "Roar--"


    "Roar--"


    Several more dragon roars followed, reverberating across the north shore of God''s Eye Lake. A pitch-ck dragon soared over the turquoiseke, diving into the clouds, its enormous wings casting a shadow like nightfall. From a few miles away, the sound of another dragon, as loud as muffled thunder, reached the audience.


    Vhagar, running bipedally in the air, loomed like a small mountain, its passage marked by a whirlwind. At the same time, three huge adult dragons appeared above the martial arts arena.


    "Roar--"


    Cannibal roared and swooped low, its athletic figure and fierce aura captivating the nobles.


    "Dracarys!"


    Themand, crisp and arrogant, rang out in High Valyrian. Cannibal��s vertical pupils shed cunningly. The dragon reared back, pping its wings, and unleashed a stream of green dragonfire into the sky.


    Amidst the mes, a silver-blond figure could be seen on the back of the pitch-ck dragon. d in ck dragon scale armor, with a scarlet cloak billowing behind him and shoulder-length hair flowing freely, Rhaegar sat in his saddle. Unchained at the waist, he smiled broadly and opened his arms, weing the baptism of dragonfire.


    Boom��


    Cannibal rose into the clouds, the ghostly green dragonfire scattering the thin white clouds in a blinding explosion, like green fireworks exploding in the sky. Rhaegar leapt from the saddle, clutching the pitch-ck scales of his dragon''s back, his scarlet cloak flickering with star-green mes.


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    Several dragon roars echoed, first from Harrenhal and then from the Isle of Faces. Light blue Dreamfyre, brown Sheepstealer, light gray Grey Ghost, cobalt blue Tessarion - these dragons appeared from different directions.


    Golden Syrax and Sunfyre flew in tandem, darting out from the Flowstone Yard to circle around Vermithor.


    "Roar..."


    Two scarlet dragon shadows emerged in opposition. Meleys, the fastest, soared above the martial arts arena, unleashing a torrent of crimson dragonfire that dispersed Cannibal''s remaining breath. Rhaenys, her silver hair braided and d in bright silver armor on a red background, pursued Cannibal through the clouds, disying the grace of the Queen Who Never Was and Master of Dragons.


    "Roar..."


    Sharp roars filled the air as Caraxes swooped low over the turquoiseke, its wide scarlet wings pping, its slender tail stirring ripples. Daemon grinned, maneuvering his dragon closer to the hovering Vhagar. Caraxes rose swiftly, its neck twisting as it spewed scarlet dragonfire.


    Gong! Gong!


    Inside the arena, the obese referee struck the gong repeatedly, shouting like a madman, "The dragons! These are the Targaryen dragons!"


    The God''s Eye Lake Tourney, a spectacle destined for history, could not be without this wild dance of dragons.


    "Roar..."


    A total of eleven dragons appeared, each bearing a Targaryen rider. From the era of Aegon the Conqueror''s three dragons, the dragons of Westeros now exceeded two dozen.


    The sky was filled with dragon shadows, and their roars echoed constantly. Vhagar, Cannibal, and Vermithor broke through the clouds, gathering above the martial arts arena, maintaining a parallel and staggered flight, circling slowly. Their bronze bell-like pupils showed hostility, driven by their masters.


    Each dragon''s size upied half the arena. With three giant dragons soaring together, the arena was shrouded in twilight, blocking out the sun.


    "Roar..."


    Blood Wyrm, Meleys, Syrax, and the others circled the martial arts field, surrounding the three giants, their necks stretched and roaring repeatedly. The arena seemed to transform into a new dragon''s nest, the dragons dancing wildly, embodying blood and fire from the same source.


    "Land!"


    Themand rang out. Vermithor, wings outstretched, was the first to move. A muffled sound followed as Vermithornded slowly in the open space on the south side of the arena, revealing King Viserys perched high on his back.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal and Vhagar descended as well,nding one to the north and one to the west, surrounding the white-stoned tournament arena on three sides.


    "Roar..."


    The other dragonriders shouted theirmands, and the swarm of dragons quickly descended through the clouds.


    Syrax and Sunfyre, still rtively small,nded directly on the top tform of the martial arts arena. Dreamfyre and Meleys, being muchrger, searched for suitablending sites nearby.


    Daemon and Caraxes, with its slender build, easilynded on the top tform, Caraxes shrieking at the spectators below.


    Soon the dragonriders dismounted. Vhagar, Cannibal, and Vermithory prostrate on the ground, their towering spikes looming over the arena like mountains. Most of the other dragons, such as Dreamfyre and Sheepstealer, flew away.


    Syrax and Grey Ghost stood on the top tform, approaching the steadily breathing Cannibal. Blood Wyrm roared at them, joining Vhagar in showing hostility toward the opposing dragons.


    In the midst of this tension, the internal conflicts within House Targaryen became apparent. The spectators below covered their ears as they watched the scene unfold. The Targaryen dragons, numbering over a dozen, symbolized a power that no noble house or realm could challenge.


    The dragonriders gathered on the broad tform. Viserys stood at the head, resplendent in pitch-ck robes with a golden crown on his head. Behind him were all of his kin. Rhaegar stood to his left, nked by Rhaenyra and Hena, while Daemon stood to his right, surrounded by Laena and the twins.


    Alicent and Rhaenys stood by Viserys'' side, with Aegon and his brothers, Sea Snake Corlys, and their wives close by.


    In one swift motion, Viserys drew ckfyre, the symbol of kingship, and raised it high above his head. Looking down at his subjects, he could not contain his excitement as he proimed, "My Lords, forget the misfortunes of the past and wee the dawn of a new era of Dragonlords!"


    As he spoke, several swords were drawn beside him. Rhaegar and Daemon, d in armor, drew their des, defending their father and brother. Rhaenys disyed the Dark Sister sword with pride. Aegon, as a grown male heir, rightly drew his longsword and raised it high.


    Targaryen power was on full disy.


    "Long live the Targaryens!"


    The first cheer ignited the crowd. The martial arts arena erupted in fervent apuse and chants of "Long live the King! Long live the Dragonlords!"


    "Roar!!!"


    The three giant dragons outside the arena roared, their heads held high. Syrax, Blood Wyrm, Dreamfyre, and the other dragons sensed their riders'' emotions and joined in, raising their heads and spitting dragonfire. Under the dragonfire, all creatures were equal.


    The nobles grew more frenzied, eager to join a world war with a dozen dragons on their side. Viserys basked in the warm apuse and cheers, ncing back at his rtives, excitement written all over his face.


    "Father, say something," Rhaegar reminded him with a smile.


    "Yes!"


    Viserys nodded vigorously and mmed ckfyre to the ground. He took the hands of his eldest son and younger brother and raised them high as he faced the nobles.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, this year''s God''s Eye Lake Tournament will feature a long-awaited duel between knights!" He announced, raising the arms of Rhaegar and Daemon. "Rhaegar Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, my heir and sibling, they will pick off all contestants for the final showdown!"


    His words were powerful, confident, even arrogant. He had already decided that the champion would be one of them.


    "Roar--"


    Cannibal craned his neck and roared, unleashing a torrent of green dragonfire. Caraxes roared defiantly, spewing scarlet dragonfire across the sky above the tournament. The dragons reflected the hearts of their riders.


    Rhaegar turned suddenly to meet Daemon''s eyes. Uncle and nephew exchanged smiles, their desire to fight boiling within them.


    The martial arts arena erupted in apuse and cheers, more intense than ever.

 Chapter 340: House Targaryen Intimidates the Weak

    Chapter 340: House Targaryen Intimidates the Weak


    The passionate promation ended and the tournament officially began.


    Following tradition, the opening event was the preliminary archerypetition.


    On the high stage, the royal family members found their designated positions. Viserys sat in the main seat, with his wife Alicent and their young son Daren on his left, and Otto on his right.


    On the lower right were Sea Snake Corlys and Rhaenys, next to Daemon and Laena. Across from them, on the left, sat Rhaegar and Rhaenyra. Jeyne of the Eyrie and Lady Elenda of Storm��s End were seated in the second row, strategically cing the day''s important figures.


    Aegon, Hena, and Aemond stood behind Rhaegar, signifying the importance of the oldest and youngest siblings. Laenor, his wife and the Four Storms stood behind their respective elders, looking more like spectators than participants.


    Viserys opened the event with a stirring speech of encouragement. Rhaegar, leaning back in his chair, nced at Grey Worm and asked, "Who''s on the field?"


    "Robb ckwood," Grey Worm answered in a low voice.


    Rhaegar chuckled, "With Robb in the field, there''s no doubt about the winner."


    In archery, Robb was unrivaled in Rhaegar''s eyes; his arrows were almost magical in their precision.


    After Robb becamemander of the Royal Guard, Samwell suggested restoring Robb''s family name and establishing him as a branch of the ckwoods of Raventree Hall, known as ckwood of Stone Mill. Robb readily agreed and ordered a special family crest: an arrow piercing three bleeding crows. This symbolized their remembrance of their origins and their loyalty to Rhaegar.


    Viserys finished his speech and raised his wine in a toast. The seated members of the royal family raised their sses in celebration.


    After a sip, Viserys rubbed a touch of fatigue from his brow and addressed Lady Elenda, "Lady Elenda, thank you for arranging your daughter''s marriage to the royal family. I believe our two families will support each other for a long time toe."


    "My pleasure, Your Grace," Lady Elenda replied with a graceful nod.


    Viserys smiled and, feigning skepticism, continued, "The marriage between our houses is a momentous asion, thanks to you and Princess Rhaenys. However, I still have some crucial doubts."


    "Please, speak," Elenda replied calmly.


    Viserys gestured to Aemond and Cassandra and said earnestly, "My third son is still young, five years out of wedlock, but sooner orter the two children will be united. What will your child''s family name be?"


    Aemond, being a boy, would traditionally have his offspring bear the Targaryen name. However, with Cassandra''s inheritance of Storm''s End, their child would be the legal heir of House Baratheon, and the Baratheons would resist being reced by Targaryens.


    Aemond and Cassandra exchanged nces, their mutual dislike obvious. Aemond''s eyes flickered as he prepared to speak, but Rhaegar, seemingly nonchnt, subtly instructed him to remain silent with a "Careful" look.


    Aemond, intimidated, swallowed his words and bowed his head. Rhaegar took a sip of his wine, knowing that this was not the time for them to speak their minds.


    The subtle exchange was not lost on the sharp eyes of Viserys and Lady Elenda. Both adults, with their delicate sensibilities, focused on the merits rather than the so-called feelings, understanding that alliances were built on pragmatism rather than emotion.


    After a cordial discussion, a resolution was reached.


    Viserys smiled warmly and dered, "The children will marry in five years. The first heir will bear the Targaryen name, and when there is an heir to inherit Storm��s End, the surname will change to Baratheon."


    Thispromise was fair, preserving Baratheon dignity while ensuring Targaryen influence. The child would grow up with Targaryen loyalties despite the eventual change of family name, ensuring Targaryen interests in the Stornds for generations toe.


    Lady Elenda folded her hands and smiled, "A generous idea, Your Grace."


    She was more concerned with her daughter''s inheritance of Storm''s End and the continuation of the Baratheon line than with political maneuvering. The agreement was mutually satisfactory.


    Viserys turned to Jason Lannister and suggested, "Lord Jason, as Wardens of the Realm, it would be fitting for you and Lady Jenny to witness this union. Would you agree?"


    Jason, trying to remain unnoticed amidst the dragon spectacle, stood awkwardly and replied, "No problem, Your Grace."


    Jeyne then stepped forward, took Cassandra''s hand, and said quietly, "You will follow in your father''s footsteps and be the first Lady of the Stornds."


    Cassandra, looking formal and slightly nervous, gathered her courage and said, "I will do my best to rule the Stornds and uphold the honor of our family."


    The public endorsement of Cassandra as the sessor to Storm��s End was clear.


    "A splendid deration for the future Lady of Storm''s End!" Viserys eximed, leading the apuse.


    Rhaegar was the second to p,ughing, "To the marriage of our houses and the prosperity of the realm."


    Rhaenys, Daemon, Otto, and others followed. Even Jason, despite his opposition to female heirs, joined in with a stiff smile.


    The Stornds nobles who supported other imants, such as Lord Dondarrion and Lord Swann, stood sullenly on the sidelines, understanding that the Targaryens'' show of force was also a warning not to challenge the royal family.


    A gong sounded, signaling the end of the archery contest. Viserys put down his wine and said, "Rhaegar, Daemon, it''s time for your duel. The nobles of the realm await your performance!"


    "No problem, let me show my nephew how to duel," Daemon said, raising an eyebrow and grinning as he stood, his dragonscale armor gleaming in the sunlight.


    Rhaegar replied amusedly, "Uncle, the tournament has only just begun."


    "Heh, I''ll go warm up first," Daemon said, throwing off his crimson cloak and stepping down from the stage.


    Caraxes spread his wings and soared into the air, its scarlet form hovering over the arena as he let out a sharp roar.


    The spectators, recognizing the signal, anticipated the arrival of the Rogue Prince. Before the Second Battle of the Stepstones, Daemon was the most renowned figure on the continent, a leading Targaryen.


    Even now, many noble second sons, unproductive knights, and downtrodden rangers admired and were willing to serve him.


    "Roar--"


    A thunderous roar echoed through the martial arts arena, reverberating like a cascade of bells. The Cannibal raised its head, green pupils gleaming with cruelty and disdain. Its ck wings spread wide before folding back, as if trying to contain the primal urge to hunt.


    The crowd watched in awe, overwhelmed by the sight. The massive ck dragon stood tall, its breath hot and torrential, like the oppressive darkness before a storm, leaving the spectators breathless.


    Rhaegar sat calmly, a slight smile ying at the corner of his mouth. As he reached for the table beside him, his hand found nothing. He turned, surprised to see the table, onceden with pastries, fruits, and vegetables, now empty.


    Rhaenyra, nibbling on a piece of honeydew melon with innocent purple eyes, caught his gaze. She had chosen a ck strapless dress, her long hair elegantly pulled back, exuding dignity and nobility. Today, Rhaenyra had eaten her fill and was in a very good mood.


    Rhaegar chuckled, "Is it enough? Do you want some more?"


    "Shhh~ Don''t be loud," Rhaenyra whispered, ncing at Daemon''s empty seat. "I''ll go to Laena in a while and eat her pastries."


    Rhaegar held his forehead with one hand, amused. "You''re unbelievable."


    With a mindset that indulging in good food was a blessing, he agreed. As the match was about to begin, Rhaegar rose to prepare.


    Before stepping down from the stage, he approached Otto and Lyonel, who sat close, one in the main seat and the other behind.


    "Prince," Lyonel greeted, forcing a smile, his fatigue evident.


    "Lord Lyonel, I have something to show you," Rhaegar said, extending his hand to reveal a tiny golden cicada carving.


    Lyonel''s eyes widened. "This is..."


    He recognized it immediately��the gold ornament from his second son Larys''s scepter. Lyonel had bribed a prisoner to monitor Larys during his journey to the Wall, only to lose contact andter learn Larys had been incinerated by Dragonfire.


    Otto, too, recognized the golden cicada. Rhaegar held it up, saying, "I found thisst night in the secret room under the Widow''s Tower. Its owner was killed, but not by Dragonfire."


    Lyonel''s mind raced, piecing together the implications in an instant. Rhaegar dropped the cicada into Otto''s wine goblet with a soft clink and whispered, "Lord Otto, what you couldn''t obtain, I have secured for you."


    Rhaegar patted Otto on the shoulder and walked away with a meaningful look.


    Larys''s death could not be attributed to him, Lary''s death itself was not important, but he cannot be known as a man who does not keep his promises.


    With Lyonel''s wisdom and understanding of his son, this golden cicada carving rified the situation.


    Lyonel looked at Otto, shock and anger in his eyes. He understood Rhaegar''s hint. Otto''s expression wasplicated, and he silently tipped over his wine goblet, refraining from argument, as if distancing himself from the situation.


    ...


    Stepping down from the high tform, Rhaegar''s eyes were filled with deep thought.


    Lara''s escape was undoubtedly connected to Otto, but Rhaegar remained uncertain about Otto''s exact role in the affair.


    He pored over the records of various dragonirs and questioned scouts from Storm''s End Castle. In the days surrounding the Goldroad Dragonfire incident, three dragons-Dreamfyre, Sheepstealer, and Sunfyre-had traveled on the same day.


    Sunfyre had carried Aegon back to King''s Landing from Harrenhal, where Aegon spent the night in a brothel. Dreamfyre and Sheepstealer had both left their respective dragon nests at the Isle of Faces and Storm''s End, one in the morning and the other around noon. Dreamfyre returned to the Dragon''s Nest that night, while Sheepstealer returned to Storm''s End Keep two nightster.


    As Larys had imed, both dragons had the time and opportunity to intercept. But why use two dragons? A single dragon traveling stealthily to kill the night watchman and the prisoner would have sufficed without drawing much attention.


    Additionally, Otto''s reaction to seeing the Golden Cicada carving earlier had been peculiar. Hisposure remained stable, without the slightest hint of panic that might indicate the plot had been uncovered.


    Larys hadn''t told the whole truth.


    Rhaegar pondered, "I need to find a time to ask Hena. That little girl won''t lie."

 Chapter 341: Internal Factors of House Targaryen

    Chapter 341: Internal Factors of House Targaryen


    Uncle and nephew left the high tform one by one, causing a shift in the seating arrangement.


    Rhaenyra, lifting the hem of her skirt, approached Laena. The two women began to chat and share pastries.


    "Rhaenyra, your appetite has growntely," Laena remarked, her smile reflecting her amazement. She had never seen her best friend eat so quickly, except when cake was involved.


    Satisfied, Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes and replied, "I skipped breakfast," a little lie to retain respect


    Ba, one of Laena''s twins, quickly exposed her, saying, "The princess often gets hungry and scolds cousin."


    The "cousin" referred to Rhaegar, as Targaryens typically deferred to paternal rtionships.


    "Ba!" Rhaenyra cried, covering her face. She had been betrayed by her adopted daughter.


    Laena patted her daughter gently on the head and asked worriedly, "Rhaenyra, if you''re constantly hungry and anxious, perhaps you should see a maester."


    "Orwyle said there��s nothing wrong," Rhaenyra shrugged, taking a small sip of the Arbor Ind''s golden wine. She was confident in her health.


    Laena''s red lips curved into a knowing smile as she stroked her own swollen belly. "When was thest time you and Rhaegar were intimate?" she asked suggestively.


    Rhaenyra��s eyes flickered with disappointment. "The Maester said I wasn''t experiencing pregnancy symptoms."


    "The Maester isn''t a woman!" Laena countered, sharing her experience. "The first trimester is very unstable, and reactions vary greatly."


    Laena spoke in detail, exining everything from carrying twins to her current pregnancy. Rhaenyra listened in silence, realizing she hadn��t had her period this month. Usually gentle with Rhaegar, her recent prolonged bad temper was unusual.


    Her heart pounding, Rhaenyra subconsciously took arge sip of wine. The alcohol''s strong vor triggered a rush of nausea.


    "Vom~~"


    A wave of nausea hit Rhaenyra. She turned away, covering her chest as she dry-heaved.


    "Princess!" Ba and Rhaena were startled and gathered around their foster mother.


    "I''m fine...vomit..." Rhaenyra managed to say before she hefted again.


    The thought of a possible pregnancy made her body react instinctively.


    Laena''s face lit up with joy. She grabbed her friend''s hand excitedly. "Look, Rhaenyra! There really might be a baby."


    As someone currently pregnant herself, Laena''s intuition told her that Rhaenyra was expecting.


    Rhaenyra put her hands on her still-t belly, her mind nk. The sudden realization was overwhelming.


    ...


    On the martial arts field, Rhaegar selected a white warhorse and began practicing with a woodennce. Around him, thepetitors in the prep area bustled about, eager to show off their skills. Amid the hustle and bustle, Daemon surveyed a couple of men as if judging prey: Ser Cole and two Baratheon bastards.


    Sensing his nephew''s gaze, Daemon rode over and lightly suggested, "Shall we race to see who can eliminate more contestants?"


    Rhaegar politely declined, "Let''s give the knights their chance; that''s what they''re here for."


    Daemon''s sharp eyes narrowed as he probed further, "Are you interested in going beyond the Narrow Sea?"


    A few years earlier, a letter from his brother Viserys had warned Daemon against private raids on the Triarchy''s ships. Though he had heeded the warning, Valyrian pirates had since taken over the raids and imposed heavy taxes. Daemon was certain that his nephew understood his intentions.


    Rhaegar did. He had informants among the Stepstones garrison and connections to the three Archons of Vntis that provided a steady stream of information.


    "Uncle, this is not the time to attack the Triarchy," Rhaegar said, suppressing a smile. He firmly believed that wars of aggression across the seas were unwise. The strongest navy in Westeros belonged to House Vryon, and many dragonriders had close ties to the Sea Snake.


    A royal war effort would be severely limited by naval power. Even if they conquered the Triarchy, managing the rewards and governance of the city-states would strain the crown, as history had shown with Aegon the Conqueror''s invasion of Dorne.


    Daemon''s face darkened as he replied, "The Triarchy was originally colonized by the Valyrians. It is only right that we reim our territory."


    "That is not for me to decide," Rhaegar replied. "You can try to discuss it with the Small Council." Then he rode his white horse into the field.


    While Rhaegar desired to conquer the Triarchy and expand its territory, he understood that the Seven Kingdoms had enjoyed years of peace. The ongoing conflict in the disputednds had already frayed too many nerves, making any new invasion across the Narrow Sea impractical. Despite their dragons, the Targaryens were internally divided into four distinct factions.


    First was the Greens, made up of Alicent''s children and backed by the powerful Hightower House. Though Aegon''s behavior was problematic, Hena, Aemond, and Daeron maintained close ties with Rhaegar, but the Green Faction''s influence was undeniable. Rhaegar knew he had to break their unity to avoid future conflict.


    Opposing them was the ck Party, or the "orthodox" faction. Rhaenyra and Rhaegar, as the eldest children of Queen Aemma, naturally had inheritance ims under Westerosiw.


    They controlled vast territories such as Harrenhal, Dragonstone, and much of the Prince''s Pce, with numerous followers and influential allies such as Jeyne Arryn and Lord Tully.


    Their father, King Viserys, was still in his prime, ensuring a smooth transition of power.


    Outside of these two major factions were Daemon and House Vryon. Daemon, with his dragon Caraxes, had great leadership appeal and war experience. His wife, Laena, had Vhagar, and their twins had already hatched dragon eggs.


    Though they appeared to be a small faction, relying on royal and Vryon support, Daemon''s lineage made him a significant yer. The Vryons, under the Sea Snake, possessed considerable wealth and military power, including half of the kingdom''s navy.


    Though the Sea Snake��s power could rival Rhaegar��s, he had no intention of opposing him. The Targaryens�� interconnected bloodlines ensured their alliances remained firm. Rhaenys, being the Master of Dragons, had her daughter married to Daemon and her granddaughters raised by Rhaenyra, linking the two families by blood.


    The Sea Snake and the Daemon may be close, but each had their own agenda, just like Rhaegar is close to several of his younger siblings.


    In this intricate web of alliances and power, Rhaegar recognized that while the Targaryens had more than a dozen dragons, internal divisions and external pressures made any aggressive expansion aplex and delicate matter.


    ...


    The Knight Duels had officially begun.


    Daemon faced off against a knight from House Tully. Rhaegar watched from afar, his mind filled with thoughts of the future.


    Families, wars, divisions, governance...


    His father, Viserys, may not have been a great king, but he had been a steady one. Under his reign, the treasury was full, the people were content, and a strong foundation wasid for future generations.


    In terms of family, Viserys had fathered six children, including four male heirs��an advantage even over King Jaehaerys, who had only three sons.


    "Vaegon the Dragonless," Rhaegar murmured softly.


    Arge, thriving family was a blessing, but it also broughtplexity. Among King Jaehaerys''s sons, Aemon and Baelon had a close bond, serving as king and Hand of the King respectively, while Vaegon renounced his inheritance to be a maester in Oldtown. The bnce seemed perfect, yet none of them ascended the Iron Throne.


    In Rhaegar''s generation, he was the main line, with his uncle Daemon, Aegon and his brothers forming the branches. The Targaryens were a chaotic family, and all of them were dragonriders. Keeping them in King''s Landing without purpose was troublesome, but sending them away could also incite chaos.


    Rhaegar rubbed his brow, feeling a headacheing on. "War and division..."


    When internal problems afflict a realm, external pressure is often the best remedy.


    ...


    Ding!


    The referee struck the gong, signaling the end of the duel.


    Daemon, d in ck armor with a fluttering crimson cape, had effortlessly defeated his opponent in two rounds. As he left the arena, the referee turned to the crowd and eximed, "Next, please wee Prince Rhaegar of House Targaryen and Ser Gwayne, eldest son of Lord Otto, Master of Civil Affairs!"


    As his focus returned, Rhaegar''s eyes lost their earlier distraction. He mounted his white horse and entered the arena, aware that idle thoughts were futile. True powery in action.


    If Daemon wanted war, he would have to convince the Small Council and their father, King Viserys. As the Heir Prince, Rhaegar had his own responsibilities: producing an heir, changing the perception of the royal family''s weakness, and controlling the dragons and their eggs.


    "Hyah!" Rhaegar spurred his horse to one end of the fence and looked at his opponent on the other side - a slender knight in silver armor bearing the sigil of House Hightower.


    "Otto''s son," Rhaegar murmured, ncing sideways at the silent Otto on the raised tform. Otto was a widower with an eldest son, Gwayne, and a daughter, Alicent, by histe wife.


    On the raised tform, Viserys watched with interest, ncing from side to side at his wife and Otto. "Look, Rhaegar''s fighting Gwayne," he remarked with augh.


    Alicent smiled helplessly and walked over to Rhaenyra, who was stretched out over the fence watching the duel. Her brother had a few tricks up his sleeve, but not many.


    Otto''s face remained calm as he matched the king''s chatter andughter, though he could not hide his concern. His foolish brother had disrupted their ns, and now, as things began to unravel, Otto had to be prepared for a counterattack from both the Heir Prince and the Hand of the King, Lyonel Strong.

 Chapter 342: Wild Dragon’s Unusual Features

    Chapter 342: Wild Dragon��s Unusual Features


    On the Martial Arts Field


    Rhaegar''s expression remained calm as he tugged at the reins of his white stallion, preparing for the match. At the other end, Gwayne buckled his top armor and patted the bay mare beneath him. He had deliberately chosen a mare in heat to distract and destabilize Rhaegar''s stallion.


    Dang!


    The gong sounded and the knights'' duel began.


    "Hyah!" Rhaegar yelled, urging his horse forward. The white stallion raced ahead, his temper growing increasingly restless.


    As the two warhorses drew closer, Rhaegar raised his spear and steadied his shield, aiming to take his opponent down with a single blow.


    "Phew~~" The white stallion whinnied and swayed momentarily, breaking Rhaegar''s rhythm.


    Bang!


    The riding spears collided, sending a spray of wood shavings into the air. Rhaegar nced back to see his opponent galloping away, unsteady but still on horseback. Gwayne''s spear had struck with surprising force, aimed directly at Rhaegar''s chest. Rhaegar''s quick reaction had shattered Gwayne''s spear, but the impact was undeniable.


    His stallion came to a halt at the end of the fence, its hooves kicking the ground restlessly. Rhaegar noticed the horse licking its wet nose - a clear sign of courtship. His gaze shifted to Gwayne''s mare, panting and foaming at the mouth.


    Understanding the ruse, Rhaegar grinned coldly. "Such underhanded tactics," he muttered, switching to a newnce. His eyes flicked to Alicent and Otto on the high tform, realizing they were using every trick in the book.


    "Then let''s see how you handle this," he murmured, his resolve hardening.


    The second attack began.


    Gwayne''s expression, hidden beneath his helmet, was one of intense concentration. He had been a member of the City Watch since 111 AC and now served as its second-inmand. With Harwin Strong injured and sidelined for over a year, Gwayne saw this tournament as his chance to earn glory and possibly remove the "Second" from his title.


    "Hyah!"


    Gwayne shouted, urging his scarlet horse forward. He aimed hisnce at the Prince''s shoulder armor, confident and unafraid. His father was a royal adviserr and his sister was the queen, so offending the Heir Prince in the tourneyseemed like a small risk.


    "Hyah!"


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed and his white horse charged forward. The horse, untamed and wild, seemed to charge of its own ord, but Rhaegar didn''t care. A Targaryen who had tamed dragons from a young age had little to fear from a spirited horse.


    Within moments, the red and white horses collided. Gwayne''s eyes lit up with excitement. He leaned forward, his arm steady, and aimed hisnce at the Prince''s unprotected shoulder armor. Just as he anticipated victory, a sh of cold light flickered in Rhaegar''s eyes.


    With a sudden burst of strength, Rhaegar straightened in his stirrups, leaned forward, and drove hisnce downward with tremendous force. Hisnce struck first, hitting Gwayne''s chest armor with a powerful impact.


    In an instant, the woodennce shattered. Gwayne grunted, thrown backward along with his horse. They crashed to the ground, the horsending on him with a sickening crunch.


    "Quick! Get the horse off him!"


    The obese referee shouted, his voice desperate, his face quivering with urgency.


    Rhaegar reined in his white horse, forcing it to a halt. He circled the arena, surveying his opponent''s predicament. Gwayney sprawled, crushed beneath his horse. His legs, caught in the stirrups, were grotesquely twisted, the bones of his right leg protruding through his skin.


    The maester rushed over, removing Gwayne''s face armor to reveal a pale, flushed face. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he struggled to breathe.


    Rhaegar took onest look, then spurred his horse away from the arena. He knew the result of his strike: Gwayne''s corbone was shattered, his lungs likely punctured. The woodennce had spared his life, but only just.


    On the high tform, Alicent covered her mouth with both hands and stifled a cry of shock. Beside her, Otto rose from his seat, his face etched with concern for his eldest son.


    "Otto, stay calm," Viserys said, raising his hand in a gesture of reassurance. "I will summon Orwyle to tend to Gwayne."


    Gwayne''s armor was removed, revealing his grotesquely deformed legs, bones protruding through his flesh. Though his life had been spared, the severity of his injuries suggested that he might never walk again.


    Otto''s sharp eyes took in his son''s dire condition. He took a deep breath and addressed the king, "Your Grace, forgive my breach of etiquette, but I must see to Gwayne."


    "Of course, go ahead," Viserys replied, looking somber.


    Otto grimaced and made his way down from the high tform, pushing through the crowd with urgency.


    Injuries weremon in tournaments, and it was epted that Gwayne''s fall, though serious, was a result of his lesser skill.


    Alicent approached Viserys, her voice filled with concern, "Viserys, don''t you think Rhaegar was too harsh?"


    Viserys, clearly ufortable, searched for words offort, but Lyonel interjected, "Queen Alicent, such collisions are inevitable in tournaments. The prince meant no harm."


    Alicent red at the Hand of the King, her tone biting, "Lord Lyonel, Gwayne is my brother, and this is a family matter."


    Lyonel remained calm. "As Hand of the King, I oversee all matters concerning His Grace, be they family or state."


    He had already suspected a connection between his second son, Larys, and House Hightower, solidifying his support for the Heir Prince''s faction. In contrast, Harwin''s provocations had been met with only a few blows, while Gwayne had barely survived his encounter with Rhaegar.


    Viserys looked at Lyonel with approval, grateful for his unwavering support at a critical moment. Turning his attention back to Alicent, who was now in tears, he gently put his arm around her, offering herfort.


    ...


    After incapacitating Gwayne, Rhaegar did not immediately retire. Instead, he changed his warhorse and participated in a few more knightly duels.


    There was a saying that the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms had been at peace for too long. The knights who had not experienced war were often mediocre and untested.


    Rhaegar, riding with skill and determination, swept away five or six contestants, drawing enthusiastic cheers from the nobles in attendance. Realizing that his horse was starting to pant, Rhaegar took the opportunity to exit the field.


    He could have continued to fight, but there was no need to dominate the entire tournament. Knights from across the realm hade to make a name for themselves, and it was only fair to give them a chance.


    At noon, the summer sun cast a warm glow, and a light breeze brought a slight coolness to the air.


    In the Flowstone Yard, inside a white stone pce, a golden-scaled dragony on the ground, its head restingzily on its tail.


    "Syrax, don''t roar," came Rhaenyra''s voice, like a mother scolding a disobedient child.


    The dragon''s throat rolled, emitting a low growl. Syrax shook its body, its golden scales rubbing against the floor as if throwing a temper tantrum.


    On one side of the dragon''s body, the floor was covered with many fluffy cushions. The silver-haired and ck-d Rhaegar and Rhaenyra were cuddled up together.


    The two siblings had left the tournament grounds, retreating to the quiet of Harrenhal.


    Rhaenyra leaned into Rhaegar''s arms, wrapping her hands around her waspish waist. Rhaegar buried his head in the nape of her neck, inhaling the fragrance of Soul Restoring Orchid from her hair, and gently stroked her t belly with his hand.


    "Rhaenyra, when the tournament is over, let''s return to Dragonstone to arrange the ceremony," Rhaegar said, his eyes filled with indescribable tenderness, his face nuzzling her hair, his tone joyful and solemn.


    After they left the field, Rhaenyra had told him about her possible pregnancy. They had ridden Syrax back to Harrenhal Castle to discuss their future.


    Rhaenyra''s violet eyes sparkled with a touch of seductive charm as she smiled, "Good, ording to the old Valyrian custom."


    Following family tradition, they had made an "agreement" beforehand. Now that she was pregnant, they needed to hold the official ceremony to avoid having a child born out of wedlock.


    "Roaring..."


    Syrax tilted its head, its vertical pupils fixed on the two with a look of disbelief.


    "Rhaegar, it''s looking at us," Rhaenyra said amusedly, tightening her embrace.


    Rhaegar rested hisrge hands on the small of her back andughed softly. "Syrax is very protective of you. With the Cannibal not around, I should be careful."


    "It seems to have grown quite a bit," Rhaegar observed, scrutinizing the dragon carefully.


    Syrax was a third-generation dragon, roughly between 20 and 30 years old, with a body length exceeding a hundred feet. Sunfyre and Seasmoke, dragons of the same generation, were simr in size, while Grey Ghost was slightly smaller.


    Rhaenyra pondered, raising her eyes. "I followed your advice and let Syrax hunt on its own. It seems to have grown up a bit."


    Normally, dragons were kept by dragon keepers who fed them livestock and kept them in a dormant state in the dragon''sir. However, the three adult dragons - Vhagar, Cannibal, and Vermithor - were toorge for the Dragonpit in King''s Landing and had to be released into the wild.


    Apart from these, only Syrax and Sheepstealer roamed freely. Sheepstealer was unique among dragons, often ignoring Aemond''smands and capriciously flying around, poaching sheep from herders.


    Syrax, on the other hand, enjoyed Rhaenyra''s favor, flying around carefree all day and returning to the garden of the Red Keep to rest at sunset.


    "Dragons should not be kept in caves. They lose the spirit of wild dragons," Rhaegar mused, pulling out a newly acquired ancient book.


    "What does the book say?" Rhaenyra asked, her head resting on Rhaegar''s chest as she curiously turned the pages.


    Rhaegar gently took her small hand and exined, "This is a misceny, the record of a learned man from the time of the Freehold. It contains many references to the Dragonlord family''s knowledge of raising dragons."


    For example, wild dragons and tamed dragons were often raised in a loose manner, with nesting areas on the fourteen mes. One key piece of information recorded in the book was that the top dragonlord families never imprisoned young or adult dragons, only young dragons.


    "The dragons and their riders would continue to refine theirpatible personalities over the years," Rhaegar continued, agreeing with this point.


    Compare the three wild dragons on Dragonstone: Cannibal had a cruel nature and liked to eat dragon eggs and young dragons. ording to Rhaegar, Cannibal had traveled inside and outside the Narrow Sea after reaching adulthood, exploring various inds until it was about 60 years old.


    Sheepstealer had a yfull personality, obsessed withmb and the thrill of poaching. Grey Ghost was a shy dragon who hid in the clouds when it saw fishermen.


    In contrast, Vhagar, Vermithor, and even Caraxes and Sunfyre, who had been imprisoned in the dragonpit since childhood,cked the unique proclivities or habits of wild dragons. Their characters seemed ferocious, but without the special traits that made wild dragons unique.

 Chapter 343: Ambitions of War

    Chapter 343: Ambitions of War


    "Roar..."


    Syrax twisted its neck and roared again, poking its dragon head out to nuzzle against Rhaenyra curled up on the ground.


    "Syrax, be careful of the baby in my belly," Rhaenyra warned gently, smiling as she wrapped her arms around the massive dragon''s head and stroked it tenderly.


    Syrax stepped back a little, its amber eyes filled with confusion, as if to ask, "Are you going toy dragon eggs, too?"


    Sensing its thoughts, Rhaenyra smiled and rested her forehead against Syrax''s upper jaw. "It''s a good fit for you," Rhaegar chuckled.


    Among the current Targaryen and Vryon families, Rhaenyra held the record for mastering dragon riding at the youngest age, surpassing even her Uncle Daemon.


    "Syrax has been with me since I was a child. It''s much more loyal than you," Rhaenyra teased, giving Rhaegar a yful look.


    Rustling footsteps on gravel interrupted their moment. Grey Worm stopped outside the pce and said solemnly, "Prince, Lady Jeyne requests to see you."


    Rhaegar''s face stiffened. The timing was impable. After a moment''s thought, he inquired, "Does Lady Jeyne have something important to say?"


    "She insisted on seeing you," Grey Worm replied with a flourish.


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed slightly. He rubbed the nape of Rhaenyra''s neck and whispered, "I''ll go check it out and be right back."


    Rhaenyra tilted her head, grabbed his face, and snickered, "The fox is cornered and nning to beg for mercy again."


    Discovering her pregnancy had brought a new steadiness to her emotions.


    Rhaegar gave her a light peck and said helplessly, "I''ll just take a look. I won''t linger if there''s nothing important."


    It''s reasonable to meet her at this moment.


    Rhaenyra rolled her eyes in mock disgust. "Fine, get lost. I''m going to the Godswood Forest for a break."


    Ensuring the smooth delivery of the baby in her belly was her top priority now.


    ...


    Rhaegar didn''t have to go far; the meeting was set at a viewing pavilion in the gravel garden.


    Jeyne stood at the edge of the gazebo, wearing a waisted honey-colored dress, her chestnut hair cascading down her back. She gazed quietly into the distance until Rhaegar arrived. Seeing him, she momentarily looked wistful before smiling and saying, "Rhaenyra is pregnant. Congrattions."


    "Indeed, it''s a happy event for everyone," Rhaegar replied calmly. He took her hand, guiding her to sit on a nearby chair. "You have something on your mind. Tell me about it."


    The moment he saw Jeyne, Rhaegar understood the nature of this meeting. The rtionship they''d shared had always been on borrowed time.


    Jeyne smiled and bowed her head. "I mean my congrattions."


    She had been hiding in the Vale for three years out of guilt for Rhaenyra, unsure if she had made the right choices.


    Originally, she had hoped to use the turmoil of the Battle of the Stepstones to separate Rhaegar from Rhaenyra and capture both his body and his mind. She had seeded in bing a part of his life, but she hesitated when it came to driving a wedge between them.


    "Jeyne, speak to me frankly. You are not a woman who is afraid to speak her mind," Rhaegar encouraged.


    Jeyne was a woman of inner and outer beauty, her intellect and strength surpassing most men. The Vale flourished under her rule, showcasing her political acumen and the talents of House Arryn.


    Jeyne''s eyes grew misty as she looked at him. "Have you ever thought of having a child with me?" she whispered.


    Realizing the potential bitterness in her tone, she quickly added, "Even if it''s a bastard!"


    "Of course!" Rhaegar nodded without hesitation. "But not a bastard. I''ve seen the fate of most bastards, and I would never want my child to be looked down upon."


    Jeyne looked up in awe. "But you can only have one wife."


    "No!" Rhaegar''s eyes sparkled with resolve. "The Conqueror married both Visenya and Rhaenys, and no one dared object."


    "You want to start a war?" Jeyne''s face changed drastically, her keen political sense immediately alert.


    Rhaegar gazed out at the garden beyond the pavilion and shook his head. "It''s not that I want to start a war; the war wille on its own."


    He wouldn''t start a war just for the sake of love. The strength of the family was growing, and a dozen or so dragon riders felt oppressed and constricted.


    There were few Targaryen heirs in Maegor I''s time, and it wasn''t because of the Battle Under the God''s Eye.


    If Rhaegar were in Daemon''s or Aegon''s position, he wouldn''t be content to keep his dragons locked away and live a miserable life.


    War is a ce to vent anger and fulfill desires. Invade a piece ofnd, divide it, and spare a group of dragon riders who otherwise would only see the Iron Throne as their destiny.


    Jeyne''s eyes fluttered and she asked hesitantly, "Where is your sword pointing at?"


    "Dorn!" Rhaegar replied bluntly.


    Jeyne''s concern was obvious. "Dorne is a desert. The people are unruly and not even the Conqueror have been able to subdue them."


    "The Conqueror only had a few dragons, and how many lords were truly loyal to him?" Rhaegar countered, his tone pragmatic. "Balerion during Aegon''s time was only about a hundred years old, not much bigger than the Cannibal. Meraxes and Vhagar were only in their sixties,parable to Caraxes and the Red Queen now."


    He continued, "Once the war starts, Sunfyre, Seasmoke, and Grey Ghost can all be deployed."


    The current nobles of the Seven Kingdoms were far more supportive of Targaryen rule than during the Conqueror''s era.


    "Rhaegar, war is not a trivial matter. The king would never approve," Jeyne cautioned, her heart pounding.


    "I know," Rhaegar''s eyes were deep, a smile ying on his lips. "Someone will ask for it, and I''ll just need to go along with it."


    He wanted a war, and his uncle Daemon was even more eager for an invasion. The difference was that Rhaegar didn''t want to venture across the Narrow Sea to invadends like Ursus. The Kingdom of the Three Daughters was one of the nine free cities, and attacking it would essentially dere war on all the free cities.


    Two hundred years had passed, but the fear of being enved by ancient Valyria had not faded. The war had gone well, rapidly capturing the Three Daughters and organizing a strategy. However, any misstep and the Martells of Dorne would intervene, possibly sending troops or a fleet to disrupt their ns.


    Jeyne didn''t fully grasp the situation, but she understood the implications. If the Dornish War broke out, the crown had a good chance of seeding. Capturing Dorne would mean unifying the Seven Kingdomspletely, and Rhaegar''s prestige would rival that of the Conqueror.


    No one would dare oppose him marrying another wife, given his war achievements. But Rhaegar''s thoughts were more strategic. He nned to make a deal with the Faith of the Seven, supporting its spread in Dorne in exchange for their approval of his second marriage.


    If they refused, he might consider aligning with the Red Priests, introducing the faith of R��hllor to challenge the Faith of the Seven and diminish the divine right of kings.


    After their conversation, Jeyne left in a hurry, excitement and hope written on her face as she digested the negotiation. Rhaegar had made her a promise, and she was eager to see it fulfilled.


    As Rhaegar sat quietly watching the stream outside the pavilion, his former confidence was reced by a calm, thoughtful demeanor. He reflected on their conversation, recognizing the subtle maniption in his words.


    His emotions aside, his primary focus was on Rhaenyra and his family. Jeyne was vital to her political support as Lady of the Vale. Her child would inherit the Vale, just as Aemond and Cassandra''s child would inherit the Stornds.


    In his mind, he considered deeper strategies. If Aegon were his true brother, he would arrange a marriage between Aegon and Margaery to secure the loyalty of the Rivends. With his brothers in power in separate realms and the Crownds and Rivends united, they could upend the status quo in Westeros.


    After much thought, Rhaegar sighed, "It is also a skill for a woman to be able to give birth."


    He despised Alicent''s pettiness, but he had to acknowledge her fertility. A growing family needed such capable women.


    ...


    Not far from the pavilion, in a tuft of grass clinging to the underside of the wigwam, two small heads huddled together - one with silver blonde curls, the other with long dark hair.


    Henay on the ground, herrge, watery eyes fixed on the pavilion, slightly lost in thought. "The Conqueror and his sisters..."


    Maris covered her mouth with both hands, her face pale with panic. "An invasion of Dorne!"


    The two had flown back to Dreamfyre after Jeyne left the table. Maris had heard rumors of Lady Jeyne''s affair with the Heir Prince and dragged Hena along to see for herself. They had followed and hidden in a single shot, not expecting to overhear such violent information.


    "Hena, we should go," Maris urged, shoving her little sister in horror.


    Hena, dazed, reyed Rhaegar''s conversation with Jeyne in her mind. Suddenly, the people in the pavilion seemed to sense that someone was eavesdropping and stared sharply in their direction.


    Maris stifled a gasp, pulled Hena with her, and tried to run, fearing they would be silenced. But a shadow loomed over them, and a voice said, "Eavesdropping is a bad habit."


    Grey Worm''s face was expressionless as he looked down at the two girls.


    The scene shifted. The two girls now stood in the pavilion, heads down, not daring to look directly at Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were full of helplessness, momentarily speechless. Especially Hena, who wore a confused expression as if she wasn''t the one eavesdropping.


    "Prince, we won''t say anything," Maris promised, nudging Hena and speaking with a trembling apology.


    Rhaegar rubbed his brow and said, "It''s not exactly a secret, but your behavior goes against the education and status you''ve received."


    He pondered the situation. The desire for war was Daemon''s, more eager than his own. There was no telling if Daemon would seek out their father for a big fight before the tournament was over. Rhaegar was grateful he didn''t have the habit of talking to himself; what was in his heart remained hidden.

 Chapter 344: Aegon Loyalty

    Chapter 344: Aegon Loyalty


    Maris hastily apologized, "We let our curiosity get the better of us. I''m really sorry."


    Rhaegar looked at her, then at Hena, who seemed lost in her own world, and couldn''t help but feel despondent about Alicent. After a moment of thought, he said seriously, "You need to keep this a secret. Can you do that?"


    "Of course," Maris agreed immediately.


    Hena: ...


    Rhaegar looked at the seemingly shrewd Maris and said quietly, "Aemond is engaged to your sister, but they don''t seem to get along very well, do they?"


    Maris, choosing her words carefully, replied, "Prince Aemond is a proud dragon rider, and my sister is just a simple maiden."


    "They''re just betrothed, and there are still some lords with bastards sniffing around," Rhaegar remarked, emphasizing the word "bastards."


    "Those lords are just vultures who want a taste of the flesh and blood of House Baratheon," Maris muttered indignantly. "Prince Aemond said he didn''t care about the threats from these lords and bastards, and he''s right."


    Rhaegar sensed there was more to it and continued, "Cassandra inherited Storm''s End. You might want to help ease her rtionship with Aemond."


    He wanted to see what the wisest of the Four Storms had to say. Cassandra had inherited Storm''s End Castle as the eldest daughter, and Maris was only one step away from bing ady.


    "Prince, don''t you think..." Maris hesitated, her ck eyes darting nervously. Finally, she lowered her head and whispered, "Prince Aemond and my sister might not be a good match?"


    Rhaegar remained calm outwardly, but smiled inwardly. The young girl''s insight was extraordinary.


    If Aemond and Cassandra''s marriage was not harmonious, the royal family would not jeopardize the benefits. Rather, Rhaegar would be the beneficiary. If their rtionship soured to the point of enmity, like Daemon and thete Lady Rhea, Rhaegar could adopt and personally raise the Lord of Storm''s End.


    But such thoughts could not be discussed openly. After a moment of reflection, Rhaegar said sternly, "Lady Maris, I hope the marriage between your family and mine goes well, and I believe you will be a loyal supporter of the royal family."


    "Yes, Prince," Maris nodded, her eyes averted. She wondered if the Prince wanted her to be an obstacle or a recement in the marriage.


    Rhaegar refrained from further exnation and motioned for Grey Worm to escort her away. No matter how she interpreted it, as long as the seed of doubt about Cassandra was nted in her heart, she would be a thorn in Storm''s End''s side.


    Once the outsiders were gone, Rhaegar pulled the bewildered Hena closer and pinched her rosy cheeks.


    "Even if you eavesdrop yourself, how dare you bring outsiders to listen?" he scolded, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. "You''ve certainly grown bold."


    "Ow!"


    The pain brought Hena to her senses. Her bright purple eyes filled with pleading as she stuttered and struggled. After a moment, Rhaegar let go, feeling a bit remorseful.


    Hena covered her stinging face and pulled back, tears welling in her eyes. "It hurts!"


    Rhaegar leaned against the pavilion pir and asked directly, "Have you ridden Dreamfyretely to do something you shouldn''t?"


    Hena''s face stiffened. She nced at her brother and replied hesitantly, "No... no, I haven''t."


    Her guilty look and uncertain tone betrayed her words.


    Rhaegar''s frown deepened and his voice grew stern. "Tell me the truth."


    Hena''s face turned pale, and she spoke with a tremor, "Yes, I did."


    Seeing her fear, Rhaegar''s eyes softened. He gently stroked Hena''s head and whispered, "Don''t be afraid. If you tell me honestly, no one will me you."


    Hena nodded repeatedly and began her confession.


    During the Larys incident, Hena had used Dreamfyre to burn the night watchman and prisoners to death. Dreamfyre, being an adult dragon, had unleashed a devastating fire. The person who prompted Hena to act was her mother, Alicent.


    One night, Alicent had confided in Hena, exining that Larys knew too many secrets and couldn��t be left alive. Unable to resist her mother''s pleas, Hena agreed. Alicent instructed her to act as soon as the prison wagon reached the Goldroad, fearing someone else might rescue Larys first.


    As Hena spoke, Rhaegar''s mind raced with thoughts. Based on Larys'' confession, it was clear that Otto and Alicent had premeditated the rescue, with Ormund Hightower executing it.


    Hena''s words suggested that Alicent had changed her mind and decided to eliminate Larys entirely, fitting her anxious and suspicious nature. Given that Aemond was already engaged to Cassandra at the time, Larys was safer dead than alive.


    Hena and Dreamfyre''s involvement corroborated Larys'' ount, making it likely that Aemond and the Sheepstealer rescued Larys afterward and turned him over to Ormund Hightower. However, since Helena had acted first and Aemond appearedter, someone else must have rescued Larys first.


    Rhaegar''s head spun at the possibilities. Could a third dragon have been involved?


    "Brother, that''s all I know," Hena said timidly, her eyes pleading for understanding. "I wasn''t lying."


    Rhaegar frowned and pinched her cheeks hard. "Next time, think before you act. You risked burning the whole wagon full of prisoners, and I had to take the me."


    He realized that neither Alicent, Otto, nor Ormund cared about the aftermath of their actions, expecting him to bear the consequences.


    "I''m sorry, brother," Hena whispered, her cheeks red from his grip and tears in her eyes. "Mother insisted I do it. I couldn''t sleep for several nights afterward without Dreamfyre."


    Rhaegar could not bring himself to punish Hena. He raised his hand to pull her into aforting embrace, but hesitated. Instead, he gently stroked her long hair and said softly, "You should not interfere in adult matters unless you are mature enough to understand them."


    Hena, seekingfort, jumped into his arms and murmured, "Mother needed me. For the first time, she held me with such an expectant look, and then she fell asleep."


    Rhaegar felt a twinge of uncertainty. He could not fullyprehend the maternal bond because he had never experienced it himself. He thought of Rhaenyra, who had always yed a motherly role for him.


    A sudden, unpleasant raven interrupted the moment.


    Rhaegar snapped out of his thoughts to see a familiar ravennd on a nearby willow. He patted Hena''s back, trying to be gentle. "Just be more careful next time."


    Hena shook her head and whispered, "There won''t be a next time."


    "Don''t cry. Go and y," Rhaegar said, fully embracing his role as her older brother.


    Hena looked up with teary eyes and said, "I can ride Dreamfyre to help you."


    "What?" Rhaegar didn''t understand what she meant.


    Hena cupped his cheeks with her small hands and kissed him on the cheek. "I will help you!" she dered before walking away, her cheeks flushed.


    Rhaegar sat frozen, his mind racing. What had Hena meant?


    A few momentster, he ran his hands through his hair in frustration and muttered, "Rhaenyra and Alicent are going to kill me!"


    Despite Rhaenyra''s pregnancy, he had no improper thoughts about Hena. The Targaryens valued kinship above all else.


    The raven pped its wings and flew into the summerhouse, cocked its head and offered a mailbox strapped to its w.


    Suppressing his strange feelings, Rhaegar took the letter out of the box. The raven was Tormund''s messenger, so the letter was from him.


    Rhaegar opened it and read. After a long moment, his furrowed brow rxed slightly, though a sense of irritation remained.


    Tormund had discovered that Alicent''s personal handmaiden was an eyewitness. Using thework of information Larys had left behind, he had extracted information from her. The handmaiden confirmed Rhaegar''s suspicions.


    Alicent and Otto had originally conspired to rescue Larys. Otto, serving as Master of Civil Affairs, had long been thwarted by Lyonel and Syrio. He hoped to use Larys to regain his intelligencework.


    The n was to find a recement for Larys during the night and use a dragon to burn the convoy the next morning. Ormund Hightower carried out the n, with Aegon and Sunfyre as the main force. Of course, they expected Rhaegar to take the me.


    Alicent feared that more mighte out of Larys'' mouth.


    Before Ormund Hightower could make a move, she first asked her daughter Hena to ride her dragon and take action. In the midst of these ns, an unexpected event urred.


    The younger sons of House Tully, seeking to gain favor through the Faith of the Seven, approached Ormund Hightower. Ormund, aiming for an alliance, discussed this with his brother, Otto. However, Otto, wary of crossing Rhaegar''s jurisdiction, was reluctant to get involved.


    Undeterred, Ormund secretly contacted Aegon, proposing that he bring the Tullys to him instead of Otto. Aegon, likely uninterested, refused. Ormund then turned to Aemond, stationed at Storm��s End Castle.


    Aemond, weary of dealing with the constant troubles from two bastards, saw an opportunity in Ormund''s offer. Ormund promised to help Aemond deal with them after the mission, securing Aemond''s cooperation.


    The n was set.


    Before Aegon''s departure, Ormund dropped Larys under the cover of night, sneaking in undetected. Hena, anxious not tog behind Aegon, rushed out before dawn, burning down her path in vain. ording to n, Aemond set off slightlyter, arriving at the scene of a charred corpse to find the hidden Larys,pleting the scheme.


    As for Aegon, he ignored the intricacies and flew back to King''s Landing on Sunfyre, seeking sce with prostitutes.


    Never would he have guessed that the most loyal of several younger siblings was actually Aegon!


    Rhaegar, overwhelmed by the convoluted machinations, held his forehead in exasperation. Despite his frustration with House Hightower''s conspiracy, he felt a twinge of guilt for doubting Aegon. Amid the chaos, Aegon proved to be the most loyal, though he simply wanted to enjoy life without entangling himself in schemes.


    Aegon is a simple man after all, he simply wants to enjoy himself. He also seems like a good brother raised by Rhaegar, who beat him constantly since they were children.


    Laughing at the absurdity, Rhaegar''s expression grew serious as he clenched the letter. "Ormund Hightower, the Faith of the Seven..." he muttered, feeling a surge of anger.


    The interference of Oldtown was intolerable. Otto was involved as well.


    "Crippling Gwayne was lenient," Rhaegar thought, a sneer forming.


    It was a good thing that the truth came out and the rats that were in the gutter came out.


    With the truth unveiled, it was time to eradicate Ormund Hightower and his influence. The Faith of the Seven''s subtle maniptions had grown pervasive, even to the point of influencing his father into recing the ruby on the House''s sword, ckfyre, with a seven-pointed star.


    Softly, Rhaegar murmured, "R��hllor Faith," contemting a shift in alliances.

 Chapter 345: Good Friend Laena

    Chapter 345: Good Friend Laena


    Godswood Forest


    In the lush garden, an array of willows and pines swayed gently, and a clear stream gurgled melodiously.


    Rhaenyra strolled leisurely, pausing before a bed of pale purple flowers to admire their delicate beauty.


    Nearby, a group of nobledies and young maidens loitered, ostensibly there to view the flowers, but mostly to show off their gowns and ornaments.


    Noticing Rhaenyra''s presence, thedies exchanged nces and greeted her, but none dared to approach her too closely.


    She was apanied by her handmaiden, Sara, and two Unsullied guards who nked her like iron sentinels.


    Rhaenyra pursed her lips and walked deeper into the forest, careful not to disturb the others.


    On the other side of the flower garden, a dozen gardeners were busy trimming the foliage.


    Among them was a familiar face: the Green Man of Isle of Faces, Greenhand Gal.


    Still resembling a chubby old man, Gal wore a rough robe and led the team in tending to a cluster of lc trees.


    After blocking Rhaenyra��s entry to Rhaegar��s bath, he had been expelled from the Isle of Faces and now worked as a temporary gardener at Harrenhal.


    Though mostly a healer, Gal asionally took on gardening tasks at Harrenhal.


    Rhaenyra watched the gardeners for a while and felt a wave of sleepe over her. She yawned involuntarily.


    "Let''s go back."


    Sleepy and mindful of the baby in her belly, Rhaenyra decided not to push herself too hard.


    As she turned to leave, she noticed a small group of two girls weeding in the flower garden.


    Their clothes were simple, their hair coiled and wrapped in silk scarves, giving them a slender, slim appearance from behind.


    Rhaenyra nced at them casually as she walked by, not paying them much attention.


    Sniffing the air, she frowned in confusion, her nostrils twitching slightly at a familiar scent.


    She twisted a strand of her hair and held it up to her nose, sniffed again, and turned to stare at the two heavily covered girls.


    Her gaze moved from their hair wrapped in silk scarves to the silver-gold sideburns sticking out from either side of their ears.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes narrowed and she said in a low voice, "Sara!


    ...


    Nightfall


    Rhaegar returned to Kingspyre Tower, feeling slightly exhausted from the day''s events.


    Rhaenyra had already retired to her room to rest after a busy afternoon.


    Old Tully had returned to Riverrun with the remains of his son, Edmure, and Rhaegar had taken the time to see him off on behalf of the royal family.


    In addition, he had a lengthy discussion about the faith of R��hllor with a red priestess. Rhaegar''s assessment was less than favorable.


    The Faith of the Seven, despite its internal issues, presented a pro-people facade with its teachings and traditions, making it unique in Westeros. In contrast, the R��hllor faith seemed burdensome, even within its stronghold in Essos.


    For one, the temple of R��hllor engaged in ve trafficking, keeping boys and girls in captivity to be trained as Fiery Hands or bed ves. Moreover, their practices included frequent sacrifices, using livestock and even ves sometimes.


    Such beliefs would be branded as heretical if they spread throughout Westeros without significant reform.


    The red priestess, aware of the conflict between her faith''s teachings and the native customs of Westeros, nned to make adjustments.


    Rhaegar, however, remained indifferent. The Faith of the Seven was tyrannical and exclusive, and he believed that introducing foreign beliefs could serve as a necessary shock to its dominance.


    While he wouldn''t actively support the R��hllor faith, he decided not to obstruct it either, allowing it to find its ce among the many foreign faiths.


    Faith, after all, was a subtle thing.


    ...


    The Lord''s Bedroom Door


    Knock, knock...


    Rhaegar raised his hand to knock on the door, which creaked open almost immediately.


    "Finished working?" Rhaenyra, dressed in a light nightgown, smiled as she looked at him.


    Seeing her in such a seductive appearance, Rhaegar grinned, "You have exhausted me. Let me in."


    Rhaenyra was pregnant and they had to be careful. But some affection was still possible.


    Rhaenyra rested a hand on the door frame and whispered, "No! You have to sleep outside tonight."


    "Just a corner of the bed will do," Rhaegar pleaded, thinking she was teasing him about Jeyne.


    "No way!" Rhaenyra shook her head firmly. "There��s no room for you tonight. Laena and I are sharing the bed."


    She stepped aside, revealing the dark-skinned beauty on the bed. Laena, also in a light nightgown,yzily on her side, her rounded, delicate legs crossed and bare.


    "Oh, sorry!" Rhaegar froze for a moment, hurriedly averting his eyes. "I shouldn��t be looking."


    "Maybe you should get Daemon to sleep with you. Uncle and nephew by candlelight," Rhaenyra said, mildly amused.


    Rhaegar shook his head quickly. "I just don��t think it��s safe for you two pregnant women to sleep together. It��s better to go back to your respective mates."


    "It��s not safe to sleep with you!" Rhaenyra��s eyes were full of contempt.


    Rhaegar hesitated, feeling ufortable. Rhaenyra��s slender figure leaned against the door frame, her long silver-gold hair hanging down in front of her chest. Her violet eyes scrutinized him deeply, as if trying to see through him.


    Rhaegar took a step back, feeling the intensity of her gaze.


    Rhaenyra suddenly said, "Rhaegar, I��ve noticed your tastes have changed."


    Rhaegar cocked his head in confusion.


    "You��re hiding something from me," Rhaenyra said, her eyes glittering as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his chest to listen to his heartbeat.


    Rhaegar��s scalp tingled, and he hesitantly replied, "I promised Jeyne something..."


    "I don��t care about that." Rhaenyra tilted her head, staring at him seriously. "Mother once said that a woman''s battlefield is the birthing bed. I already have one foot on the battlefield. You should know what happens when you lie in the army."


    "I should cut off the liar��s head," Rhaegar replied stiffly.


    "Uh-huh, but I can''t afford to cut off your head," Rhaenyra grunted. She produced an ancient gold coin, reminiscing. "Remember this?"


    Rhaegar instantly recognized it as one of the ancient Valyrian gold coins he had found in the space bracelet. When he became Heir, he had given Rhaenyra three gold coins, promising to fulfill three of her wishes.


    In an instant, Rhaegar''s demeanor shifted, his eyes taking on an unprecedented seriousness. "Rhaegar, whatever you want to know, I''ll tell you everything."


    The three gold coins Rhaenyra considered treasures were kept so secret that even he had trouble finding them. Despite his rtionship with Jeyne, she hadn''t felt the need to use even one of them.


    "It seems you still honor your word," Rhaenyra said, her lips curving slightly. Her eyes revealed a glimmer of emotion as she whispered, "It''s a small matter, really, but I want to hear it from you."


    There was a hint of guilt in her voice, as if she was apologizing for making the request. Though it was a small matter, it needed to be handled carefully.


    Rhaegar''s mind drifted. He considered his promises to Jeyne, Hena''s strange behavior, and Sara''s secret loyalty...


    Lately, there hadn��t been anything particrly troublesome.


    As Rhaegar pondered, Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling against his neck and hair. "Think carefully, or else tomorrow night, Laena will still be sleeping with me."


    With that, she pressed the ancient gold coin into his hand.


    Rhaegar, bewildered, nced toward Sara, who stood by the bed. Rhaenyra quickly moved to block his view, warning, "Think for yourself, no prying."


    She shot a re at the innocent Sara.


    Sara lowered her head, her hands resting in front of her, silent.


    Rhaegar was thoroughly perplexed. He would have preferred Rhaenyra to ask him outright, even if it meant facing her wrath.


    Guessing was not his strong point.


    Could it be about his agreement with Daemon to attack the Triarchy?


    Rhaenyra seemed to sense his frustration. She shook her head, smiling, and stood on her tiptoes to nt a kiss on his cheek.


    "See you tomorrow."


    The door to the room closed with a thud.


    Rhaegar stood there in silence, faintly hearing Rhaenyra and Laena''s voices from within.


    He turned and walked away silently, deciding to find Tormund to gather more information before seeking out Daemon for a ce to sleep.


    After all, it was Daemon''s wife who had taken his bed.


    ...


    Inside the room.


    Rhaenyra and Laena were lying on the bed, huddled in each other''s arms.


    ��Worried?��


    Laena''s gaze softened as she embraced her friend, caressing her gently.


    Rhaenyra shook her head. ��Just a bastard woman. I just feel sorry for Rhaegar, watching over him too closely.��


    The words were true, but whether she felt good in her heart was another matter.


    Rhaegar had betrayed her once more.


    Laena saw it differently. "Rhaegar despises vulgar women; it''s one of his strengths."


    ��It turns out he''s not the one who can''t only have me.�� Rhaenyra''s voice was muffled and moody.


    Laena sighed helplessly. "Even a man as unsmiling as my father still has a mistress in Hull Town, or you canpare that to Daemon''s flirtatiousness."


    She was not a calcting woman; Daemon was not a discreet man.


    She admired Daemon''s untamed character and extraordinary experiences, and Daemon saw her beauty and family history.


    Rhaenyra looked up at her, her small hand slipping under the hem of the other woman''s skirt to caress her bulging belly and said teasingly, "If you say so, I feel much better inside."


    "Rhaenyra, you''re so annoying!" Laena grabbed the small, mischievous hand and pretended to be angry.


    Rhaenyra teased for a moment, her head cushioned against her friend''s softness, and said ruefully, "He''s my brother, but I often y the role of a mother who doesn''t want to be separated from him even for a moment."


    Laena touched the small of her back and said soothingly, ��You are a mother now.��


    Rhaenyra''s behavior was the result of her instruction, Rhaegar wasn''t Daemon, with his pride and strict upbringing, he disliked trouble and flirtation.


    Misunderstandings would arise, but they always found a way to move past them.


    ...


    Two dayster.


    In the martial arts field, atop the high tform, a scarlet dragon swooped past, its slender, snake-like body moving with remarkable agility. Wide wings beat, stirring up a wild wind.


    Daemon, dressed in pitch-ck armor, sat with amanding presence. ��Brother, the pirates of the Triarchy'' Kingdom are bing more rampant. This is not a good sign.��


    Viserys, frowning in frustration, waved him off. ��The Triarchy have always been troublesome. You��re overreacting. Let��s discuss it after the tournament. Don��t spoil my mood.��


    Daemon scoffed. ��You always have a reason to reject me.��


    He leaned back, exasperated. Despite his private attempts to persuade Viserys, his concerns were continually dismissed, leaving him with little patience.


    Laena, sitting next to him, patted his hand gently to signal decency.


    Daemon scowled but reached out to stroke his wife''s belly, his gaze burning into his nephew across the field.


    Rhaegar, on the other hand, presented aposed figure. His long hair was tied back and he wore a set of silver and white armor designed for defense. The diamond-shaped, mirror-bright breastte, dragon-headed shoulder armor, and crimson cloak set him apart.


    Rhaegar''s face was calm as he whispered to Tormund, his eyes never leaving Daemon.


    The two exchanged looks of mutual disdain. Daemon''s eyes were dark, a cold smile tugging at his lips.


    He couldn''t fathom what had offended Rhaegar, who had invaded his personal space for two nights. Maybe it was a tactic to unsettle him.


    Daemon''s gaze shifted to Laenor, who stood behind Rhaenys, watching the fight with a smile. An unsettling thought crossed his mind and his expression grew darker.


    Laenor, sensing the ill will directed at him, shivered involuntarily, feeling a chill despite the warm day.

 Chapter 346: Everyone Has Their Own Opinion

    Chapter 346: Everyone Has Their Own Opinion


    Rhaegar quickly ended his conversation with Tormund, ignoring the growing tension around him.


    "What''s going on?" Rhaenyra asked, her eyes bright with anticipation.


    Rhaegar shook his head gently, took her small hand and kissed it lightly, raising his voice deliberately. "News from Vntis. It seems someone has incited the Tiger Party to burn Lys'' fleet."


    Syrio''stest letter revealed that Tiger Party Archon Tesrio had privately targeted Lys''s innocent merchant ships for plunder. Lys had condemned these actions and showed signs of a possible counterattack in partnership with Myr and Tyrosh.


    Rhaegar��s voice was firm and loud, ensuring everyone present could hear him.


    Daemon was the first to react, casually pouring himself more wine.


    Viserys red angrily at his brother. ��Daemon, have I not warned you against provoking the ships of the Triarchy?��


    ��This is clearly the Triarchy��s own doing, facing retaliation from Vntis,�� Daemon repliedzily, dismissing the connection.


    Viserys�� face reddened, his chest heaving with anger. ��Respect your king, or I��ll send you back to the Stepstones to cool off!��


    He was truly fed up with his rebellious brother, who always sought to provoke and stir conflict, disregarding the kingdom��s need for peace.


    Stifling his irritation, Daemon pointed at his nephew. "Your Grace, before you lecture me, take a look at your own eldest son. I''m not the only one who expects war."


    Viserys, slightly taken aback, looked at Rhaegar. He knew that his son had prepared an army and had made a significant impact in Vntis.


    Rhaegar''s expression remained calm and he said nothing. He had no immediate ns for war, at least not until Rhaenyra and Laena''s pregnancies were over.


    Rhaenyra was expecting, and he was notfortable going to war while she was pregnant. The Targaryens had lost too many children in the past.


    Laena, who controlled thergest dragon, Vhagar, could not be absent from a potential Dornish War or conflict with the Triarchy.


    Rhaegar��s silence could be seen as either agreement or defiance.


    Viserys felt a splitting headache, his old wounds aching faintly.


    Alicent, worried, took her husband''s arm and stroked it gently, trying to calm him.


    "Hoo~, I''m fine."


    Viserys took two deep breaths, ring at his brother and eldest son. "I don''t care what either of you think; I won''t allow anyone to start a private war during my reign!"


    He was a king of peace and prosperity, not known for great deeds or conquests. Since inheriting the throne from his grandfather, Jaehaerys I, his rule had been defined by stability and abundance. He didn''t want future history books to erase those achievements and instead record only his mediocrity and continuous wars.


    Sensing his brother''s anger, Daemon, uncharacteristically subdued, rose silently and walked off the high tform.


    Rhaegar remained unmoved, pondering how his uncle had discovered his intentions to prepare for war. Clearly, his preparations had not been as secret as he had thought. Either word had leaked out of the Prince''s Pce or spies in Dorne had learned of his ns.


    "Rhaegar, did you hear what your father said?" Viserys''s voice was filled with fury, directing his anger at his eldest son.


    Rhaegar''s thoughts snapped back to the present, and he smiled brightly. "Father, I have no desire for war. I just want to marry Rhaenyra as soon as possible after the tournament."


    Viserys looked puzzled, watching as Rhaegar intertwined his fingers with Rhaenyra''s and gently caressed her back under her long red silk dress.


    Rhaenyra allowed him to touch her but remained silent.


    Viserys''s eyes widened with surprise, a smile spreading across his face. "You mean...?"


    As a father concerned about his children''s reputation, he spoke subtly. Unmarried pregnancy was frowned upon, and discretion was necessary in public.


    Rhaegar raised his chin, speaking proudly. "The maester isn''t sure yet, but all signs point to it."


    He couldn''t wait to share his joy with his father, to tell him that his heir would soon have an heir as well. He wanted to scream about how wonderful Rhaenyra was, imagining the possibility of her giving birth to two healthy babies at once. But he held himself back, not wanting to pressure her.


    Rhaenyra looked at him, her expression dark with pain. She had waited two days with no exnation from Rhaegar.


    It wasn''t entirely Rhaegar''s fault. When the bastard daughters arrived in Westeros, they were discreetly settled in a Mushroom Set Cavan a dozen miles away from Harrenhal Castle. Rhaegar had made it clear to them, providing a peaceful ce to live and enough money to livefortably, but severing other ties.


    Aunt Saera''s grandchildren were distant enough in bloodline that it wasn''t illegal in Westeros. Rhaegar had initially sought the experience of being with someone his own age, but it hadn''t been as satisfying as he had hoped.


    Dae gave him a simr feeling to the nobledies of Westeros, and the process had been boring. He had privately asked Orwyle for advice, who had politely suggested it might be a mental issue rather than a physical one.


    Rhaenyra and Jeyne, who genuinely loved him, could give him all-night pleasures. Dae, on the other hand, was a blind admirer and asylum seeker, someone Rhaegar subconsciously resisted.


    Back to the topic at hand.


    Viserys, overwhelmed with joy upon hearing the great news, couldn''t help but exim, "Rhaenyra, so it''s normal for you to feel ufortabletely. I was secretly worrying about you with Alicent."


    Alicent paused for a split second before saying with genuine delight, "Rhaenyra, congrattions."


    She herself was unsure of her true emotions at that moment, her heart a mix of repressed feelings and vague joy. At least outwardly, she had to offer her blessings.


    Rhaenys, Sea Snake, Laenor, and the others extended their congrattions, all with smiles on their faces. The prosperity of the Targaryen bloodline and the news of a sessor to the Heir Prince were joyous events worthy of celebration.


    Especially Laenor, who was smiling like a fool, unable to stop pursing his lips.


    His wife, Celine Setiga, looked gloomy, her eyes full of envy as she forced a smile to match the apuse. She longed to conceive a child herself and didn''t know how much longer she would have to wait.


    Rhaenyra epted the well-wishes with a smile, quietly shaking off Rhaegar''srge, tightly sped hand.


    Rhaegar, smiling without saying a word, let his hand rest on her thigh and stroked it gently.


    With keen eyes, Viserys noticed their subtle exchange and called out in warning, "Rhaegar, today is thest day of the tournament. Daemon has already gone down; you are about to fall behind."


    The best way to please a woman was to win the crown of love and beauty for her.


    Receiving the signal, Rhaegar rose, donning his armor, and smiled confidently. "No problem, let me go and test their mettle."


    He nced back at Rhaenyra, whose eyshes fluttered slightly, her purple eyes reflecting his silhouette.


    Rhaenyra crossed one leg and bashfully picked up her tea, saying perfunctorily, "Go on."


    Unsatisfied, Rhaegar leaned down and boldly cupped her face, aiming to kiss her delicate red lips.


    He couldn''t fathom where the faulty, knowing only that Rhaenyra could be forgiving.


    After a long moment, their lips parted, leaving Rhaenyra with misty eyes and watery strands clinging to her lips.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were filled with love and a hint of hope. "I prepared a gift for you. I originally wanted to give it to you on the day of the ceremony, but I want you to be happy now."


    "Take it out," Rhaenyra said, her eyes shining with ecstasy.


    Rhaegar shook his head slightly. "When I win the crown of love and beauty, I will ce it in your hands along with the gift."


    He kissed her forehead lightly once more before stepping down from the stage amidst the curious gazes of all.


    ...


    The tournament arena buzzed with excitement.


    Daemon had already secured a victory by spilling his opponent''s guts and breaking several of his ribs.


    Rhaegar rode a silver-white warhorse, which now stood facing his uncle.


    With only a nce, Daemon reined in his mount and warned, "Dorne is not a good ce to live. It is barren and hot, leading to years of protracted fighting."


    Rhaegar replied frankly, "If the Seven Kingdoms are not unified, how can we expand our territories outward?"


    Daemon, looking untamed, rode his pitch-ck warhorse the wrong way and said coldly, "The Triarchy is the preferred choice, not Dorne."


    "Uncle, I have to think about the family," Rhaegar sighed.


    He knew that Dorne would not be easy to conquer and was much more menacing than the Triarchy. However, conquering Dorne would reassert the Targaryens'' might over the Seven Kingdoms. In contrast, most of the nobles in Westeros were unwilling to invade territories outside the Narrow Sea.


    With a nod, Rhaegar spurred his horse onto the tournament field.


    Danng!


    The obese referee sounded the gong, and Rhaegar''s opponent revealed himself: a tall and robust young man wearing tin can armor and riding a brown warhorse.


    "This matchup, Prince Rhaegar of Targaryen, against Arno Storm of Stonehelm!"


    Dang!


    The referee chanted the introduction and struck the opening gong again. Both fighters took the field and sized each other up.


    Rhaegar donned a silver helmet with dragon wings on either side and clutched the hilt of his spear.


    His opponent was Arno, a bastard son of the House Baratheon. He had participated in the Second Battle of the Stone Inds and had seen the Prince ride a dragon. His heart trembled with fear.


    The first charge.


    Rhaegar slightly sidestepped, aiming hisnce at Arno''s abdomen in a moderate test.


    Bang--


    Arno''s riding skills were unrefined. He lifted his shield to block but was almost knocked off his horse. Both sides brushed past each other, and the second round unfolded.


    "Heya!"


    Ten feet away, Rhaegar''s gaze turned cold as he spurred his horse with a low shout.


    This bastard dared to covet Storm��s End Castle; so he could not live!


    As they neared, Arno raised his arm and thrust his spear, aiming it fiercely at the Prince''s breastte.


    Rhaegar''s horse was even faster. The shield with the three red dragons on it deflected the tip of Arno''s spear, and Rhaegar thrust hisnce fiercely.


    Pfft...


    The woodennce hit Arno''s throat urately. The iron-wrapped tip broke through the thin armor and pierced deeply into his neck.


    Rhaegar discarded thence and rode away.


    Arno flew backward,nding heavily on the ground. His eyes filled with blood as he clutched his blood-soaked throat, gasping for breath.


    The squire and maester rushed forward to check, but it was toote. Arno was dead.

 Chapter 347: Uncle vs Nephew!

    Chapter 347: Uncle vs Nephew!


    The death of a bastard did not cause a widespread sensation.


    In truth, the impact was minimal. The members of House Swann in the audience gasped in shock, and the Lord of Swann was so furious that he pounded his thighs heavily. His shrill, mean-spirited wife, however, was more pragmatic. She pulled her husband back, not wanting to cause trouble over a bastard.


    Rhaegar scanned the crowd, a grin spreading across his face. He retired for a break, allowing the next match to begin.


    The third match pitted Cole, d in silver-gray armor, against Medrick Manderly, the eldest son of the Lord of White Harbor. The Manderly House had yed a minor role in the Battle of the Stone Steps Inds and had avoided much attention in recent years.


    Medrick, heir to White Harbor, was handsome and tall, with silver and white armor bearing the crest of the merman, holding a trident. He was known as one ofthe best knight in the north.


    Cole and Medrick fought head to head, their riding skills evenly matched. In the final charge, both fell from their horses simultaneously. Colended and quickly swung his morningstar, smashing Medrick''s hand-and-a-half sword and iming victory.


    Several more tournaments followed, showcasing the best knights from every realm in the kingdom. All manner of tactics and strategies were on disy.


    Daemon participated once more, facing Wim Royce of the Vale. Wim was a distant cousin of Yorbert Royce, Warden of the East, and had participated in numerous confrontations and sieges against the Mountain ns. He was one of Rhaegar''s preferred candidates for the Kingsguard.


    Unfortunately, Wim''s skills were not first-rate. Hecked Daemon''s determination and ruthlessness. After a few rounds of charging, he was knocked from his horse.


    The tournament entered its final round ofpetition.


    Four knights were chosen to face each other.


    Rhaegar versus Cole, and Daemon versus the bastard Bronn Storm.


    ...


    On the high tform, the crowd watched the bout with eager anticipation.


    Viserys beamed, his eyes darting between Rhaegar and Cole in the tournament arena. He raised his ss repeatedly, delighted by the match between his eldest son and the formermander of the Kingsguard. He nned to conclude the tournament by discussing Cole''s potential inclusion in the Kingsguard at the Small Council.


    In the lower position, Rhaenyra sat demurely, Hena in herp.


    Hena upied Rhaegar''s seat, her face pressed against Rhaenyra''s belly as she tried to listen to the fetus. After a long attempt, all she could hear was a "gurgling~~" sound. Lifting her head, she saw Rhaenyra chewing a pastry with a thoughtful expression.


    "Is the baby hungry?" Hena murmured, sitting up straight.


    Behind them, Aemond, who had left his fianc��e behind, interjected, "It''s Rhaenyra who''s hungry."


    Having bonded with Sheepstealer, Aemond''s confidence had grown, and the gloom in his eyes had given way to a subtle arrogance.


    "Boy, no one will think you''re stupid if you keep your mouth shut," Aegon said, looking irritated as he held up a half-empty mug, mocking his brother mercilessly.


    Aemond raised an eyebrow and retorted, "Aegon, I wasn''t talking to you."


    "Ha, like you''re the only one allowed to talk nonsense," Aegon shot back, smacking his lips.


    Since thest warning incident, the rtionship between the two brothers had sunk to the freezing point, and they rarely spoke unless it was to exchange barbs.


    Distracted by the bickering, Rhaenyra picked up a ss of wine and raised it to her lips, quickly spitting it out and recing it with a cup of clear tea to rinse her mouth. She could argue with Rhaegar all she wanted, but she was determined to avoid any harm to the fetus in her womb.


    ...


    On the martial arts field, the battle was in full swing.


    Rhaegar and Cole had already charged each other several times, their shields shattering from the impact and both eventually being thrown from their horses.


    "Sword!" Rhaegar shouted, and his squire promptly handed him Truefyre.


    Cole, a melee expert with a sharp mind, spat bloody foam from the corner of his mouth and took a deep breath. "Prince, you better be careful."


    "Bring it on!" Rhaegar grinned, eager to test Cole''s skill.


    Cole''s gaze was steady as he stepped forward, closing the distance with measured steps beforeunching his morningstar in a quick, precise arc.


    Dangang-


    Rhaegar leaned back, sliced through the morningstar''s chain with Truefyre, and shifted his stance.


    "Aha!" Cole bellowed, swinging the morningstar back to strike Rhaegar around the waist.


    The morningstar''s small iron ball could incapacitate with a single strike.


    Danng-


    As the morningstar descended, Rhaegar raised his sword to block it, and the spiked iron ball collided with the dark de.


    "You lost!" Rhaegar shouted, stepping forward and kicking Cole in the abdomen, then shing at his chest armor.


    Sparks flew as the de cut deep dents into Cole''s steel te-like armor.


    Cole''s expression darkened. He retreated, twisting his waist to swing the morningstar again.


    Rhaegar, anticipating this move, bent his knees to avoid the iing iron ball, closed the distance, and thrust Truefyre against Cole''s throat.


    The Valyrian steel de pierced the neck guard, pressing against Cole''s skin.


    Cole froze, feeling the sharp de and the trickle of blood.


    Danng!


    The referee struck the gong and announced, "Congrattions to Prince Rhaegar for defeating Ser Criston Cole!"


    Cole''s bravery was renowned across the Seven Kingdoms. As the formermander of the Kingsguard and a champion in many tournaments, he had won the admiration of countless nobles and knights. His humble origins as the son of a steward in ckhaven, and his previous favor with Princess Rhaenyra, made him an object of envy.


    When the match ended, Cole remained stiff, Rhaegar''s Truefyre still at his neck.


    After two tense seconds, Rhaegar removed his helmet and slowly withdrew the sword, a smirk on his lips.


    Cole was about to move when the glowing tip of Truefyre came before him again, stopping him in his tracks.


    St...


    The tip of Rhaegar''s sword sliced off Cole''s facete, revealing his still handsome but weathered features.


    Rhaegar held his sword at Cole''s neck, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Cole, you were breaking bones three years ago. Have you grown old, or has too much sea breeze dulled your martial skills?"


    Born in 82 AC, Cole was now 39, only a year younger than his Uncle Daemon.


    Cole dropped the morning star and smiled bitterly, "It is you who have grown up, Prince."


    He recalled the image of the young Prince venturing out to tame the Cannibal, but now everything had changed.


    Seeing Cole''s humbled state, Rhaegar''s smile became more sincere. "Wee back. I will discuss your position in the Small Council."


    "Thank you very much, Prince." Cole replied, surprise mixed with aplicated expression.


    Despite his merits, he should have returned to King''s Landing long ago, even if only as a gold-cloaked officer. There was no real conflict in the Stepstones, and dealing with pirates and smugglers felt like a waste of his skills.


    Cole had repeatedly asked to be transferred back to King''s Landing, only to be denied by the Small Council.


    Rhaegar withdrew Truefyre and turned to greet the cheering crowd.


    The truth was, Cole couldn''t return to King''s Landing because of Rhaegar''s influence. As a child, Rhaenyra had often boasted to Rhaegar about Cole''s handsomeness and bravery, describing him as the Kingsguard of her dreams.


    Rhaegar had never been a big-hearted child, clinging to the slightest grievance. Catching Cole in a mistake had been his chance.


    After three years of exile by the sea, it was finally time for Cole to return to King''s Landing.


    ...


    On the high tform, Viserys apuded excitedly, celebrating his eldest son''s victory over Cole.


    Though Viserys was not skilled in the martial arts, he judged the skill of his younger brother Daemon and the Kingsguard. He knew his son''s martial prowess was remarkable, but he hadn''t expected him to be so formidable.


    Daemon, a martial artist in his own right, had once been bested by Cole''s morningstar.


    "Oh! Brother is the best!" Hena cheered loudly, boldly expressing her admiration.


    Aemond pped alongside his sister, looking at Rhaegar with envious eyes and resolving to intensify his own training.


    In contrast, Rhaenyra and Aegon''s reactions were muted.


    Aegon scoffed, tilting his head back to drink more wine.


    Rhaenyra nced at Rhaegar, her hand caressing her belly, and secretly rolled her eyes.


    He had told her that Cole wouldn��t return to King��s Landing, but if he hadn''t yed petty games, Cole would have rejoined the Kingsguard long ago.


    As these thoughts crossed her mind, a slight smile curled her lips, easing the frustration she had been feeling.


    ...


    Enjoying the cheers of thousands, Rhaegar stepped down from the field with his sword.


    Next was the second match of the finals: Daemon versus the bastard, Bronn Storm.


    Bronn was a big, burly man with a full beard, reminiscent of thete Lord Boremund. Daemon didn''t care who he resembled and treated him as just another opponent.


    Their duel was unorthodox, marked by recklessness. Despite his rugged appearance, Bronn was a skilled rider and quickly unseated Daemon.


    Daemon refused to surrender and grabbed a longsword and shield to continue the fight. Bronn, wielding a sword as wide as a man''s palm, swung with brutal force.


    It was less a knightly duel and more a brawl, with Daemon employing ruthless tactics. He cunningly blinded Bronn in one eye and then delivered a brutal kick to his opponent''s groin. The men in the audience winced as they heard the sound of the blow.


    Watching from below, Rhaegar subconsciously tightened his grip, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. His uncle''s fierce engagement was both impressive and intimidating.


    "Roar--"


    A muffled dragon''s roar echoed through the arena, as a massive pitch-ck dragon pierced through the clouds, stirring up a gust of wind. Rhaegar looked up, shaking his head with a smile.


    Danng!


    The referee struck the gong, signaling the final round of the tournament. The squires helped the wailing Bronn off the field, and Daemon, gasping, discarded his shattered shield and remounted his horse.


    Rhaegar rode onto the field, eyeing his uncle, who seemed to grow stronger by the minute. "Not taking a break?" he inquired casually.


    "Strike while the iron is hot, don''t dy," Daemon replied, staring at Rhaegar like a predator eyeing its prey.


    "What a big mouth," Rhaegar taunted. "Come on, let me see what you''ve got."


    Danng!


    The referee struck the gong again, and the drummers beat their drums intensely, their shouts blending with the inspiring music:


    "Prince Rhaegar of House Targaryen versus his own uncle, Prince Daemon! The old and new noble bloodlines collide!"


    "Roar..."


    A huge scarlet dragon soared across the sky, spewing Dragonfire at the clouds and letting out an exuberant roar, sensing its rider''s frenzied emotions.


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    The Blood Wyrm''s roar set off a chain reaction. From the shore of God''s Eye Lake, other dragons rose into the sky: the golden Sunfyre, the light blue Dreamfyre, the cobalt blue Tessarion. Each dragon pped its wings and hovered proudly, their vertical pupils burning as they looked down on the white stone buildings below.


    Danng!


    Forcing back their fear and excitement, the referee struck the gong again, pushing the atmosphere to its peak.


    "Hyah!"


    Rhaegar''s eyes were cold as he clenched his horse''s belly and sped forward.

 Chapter 348: The Summer Prince

    Chapter 348: The Summer Prince


    "Hyah!"


    Daemon''s voice was deep and dangerous as he spurred his pitch-ck warhorse into a gallop. The uncle and nephew duo charged at each other like two bolts of lightning, one silver and one ck. Their red cloaks fluttered behind them as they advanced, and theirnces were aimed at each other''s chests.


    Bang!


    The shields, both emzoned with the three-headed red dragon of House Targaryen, shattered simultaneously, sending shards of wood flying. Rhaegar steadied himself, gripping the reins and holding his seat as his horse trotted to the other end of the fence. Daemon, less fortunate, struggled to stay upright, his ck armor nking loudly.


    Rhaegar''s strength prevailed. His ancient Valyrian blood coursed with vitality, fortifying every inch of his body.


    "Nephew, you impress me!" Daemon''s voice was cold as he quickly reced his shield and charged again.


    Rhaegarposed himself and replied, "Uncle, it''s not over yet!" The magic in his blood surged, the air around him heated as veins bulged at the corners of his eyes.


    Once again, silver and ck armor shed. Daemon''snce was aimed at Rhaegar''s chest, and he tossed his shield like a frisbee.


    Boom!


    Rhaegar blocked the flying shield with his own, then thrust hisnce at Daemon''s stomach. Bothnces hit their targets, and the twobatants were knocked down.


    "Phew~~"


    The warhorses whinnied in panic, veering off course and out of the arena.


    The collision sent the crowd into a frenzy. The nobles stood, their eyes fixed on the fighters sprawled on the ground. The match between the Regent Prince and the Rogue Prince would be the talk of the Seven Kingdoms.


    "Roar--"


    A pitch-ck dragon swooped into the clouds, its massive wings beating the air, green vertical pupils surveying the arena. Other dragons scattered to avoid this fierce and dominant creature.


    "Roar..."


    A scarlet dragon, serpentine and swift, swooped around the arena, not to be outdone. The fighting fervor of its riders seemed to ignite the dragons'' own instincts.


    On the tform, Viserys watched intently, his face grave. Though not a warrior, he had seen many thrilling matches. Rhaegar and Daemon, shing fiercely, seemed determined to unseat each other.


    Alicent, beside her husband, looked tense, subconsciously picking at her fingernails. The uncle and nephew fought as if they were mortal enemies, not blood rtives.


    On the field, two figures slowly rose from the mud, ready to continue the fight.


    "Hiss!"


    Rhaegar pushed himself up with one hand, the other gripping his aching shoulder. He took off his helmet and inhaled sharply. The fall had been hard and his left shoulder throbbed painfully.


    Across the field, Daemon rolled several times before staggering to his feet, his head spinning. Their fierce exchange had taken its toll on both of them.


    Attendants rushed to bring their weapons, and uncle and nephew faced each other once more. Blood trickled from the corner of Daemon''s mouth as he picked up a one-handed sword and shield, his preferred weapons even after losing Dark Sister. Swift and ruthless swordy was his path to victory.


    "Uncle, remember the family motto?" Rhaegar grinned, twirling Truefyre, the ruby at its hilt shing crimson as if fire danced within its core.


    Daemon sneered, a cold smile curling his lips. "What trick are you trying to pull?"


    "Oh, it''s Fire and Blood!" Rhaegar dered, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. The ckened Truefyre glowed with heat, the air around it shimmering.


    He hadn''t intended to disy his pyromancy in public, but Daemon deserved a taste of his true power. He called upon his inner strength and felt his bloodline stir.


    [Rhaegar Targaryen]


    Talents: Dreamer (Gold), Pyromancer (Purple), Longevity (Green)


    Bloodline: Ancient Valyrian Dragonlord (+48%)


    Runes: Serpent (Blue), Bronze (Green)


    Blood Sorcery: Enchantment Spell (Blue), Dragonstone (Blue)


    Relics: Blood and Fire, True Dragon Blood, Dreamscape


    Evaluation: "Ancient and noble bloodline, looking forward to the day when the me is rekindled."


    His bloodline purity had been stagnant at 47% for a long time, despite his contact with Cannibal and other dragons. But now, with Rhaenyra''s pregnancy, this duel with Daemon, and the looming war, emotions surged within him. His blood suddenly boiled, showing signs of revival.


    "Hooooo~~"


    Rhaegar panted heavily, his breath hot and burning, eyes fixed on his uncle. In a sh, he moved like lightning. Truefyre descended with the force of a million pounds, aimed directly at Daemon.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal roared repeatedly, its pitch-ck wings blotting out the sky as it hovered just below the clouds.


    Bang...


    Daemon didn''t dodge, raising his shield to block. The thick wooden shield cracked instantly under the force.


    Seizing the moment, he swung his steel-forged one-handed sword across Rhaegar''s waist, showing no mercy.


    A green dragon pattern red in Rhaegar''s eyes as his aura peaked. He was more ruthless than Daemon, allowing the sword to cut into his side, slicing through his silver armor and grazing the skin beneath. He knew the armor''s thickness well and trusted it could withstand a typical steel sword without issue.


    "Uncle, you''re getting old!" Rhaegar shouted coldly, kicking Daemon square in the chest and sending him staggering backward.


    Taking advantage of Daemon''s unsteady retreat, Rhaegar shed with Truefyre, each strike heavier than thest.


    Dang! Dang!


    Daemon retreated hastily, his shield already useless. He could only raise his one-handed sword to block, but it was no match for Rhaegar''s hand-and-a-half sword. The powerful swings erupted repeatedly, and with a final heavy sh, Rhaegar''s de rubbed with mes and heat waves.


    Ka-chow...


    The slender one-handed sword shattered, pieces flying everywhere. Daemon''s face twisted in grim determination as he drew a dagger from his waist, ready to continue the fight.


    "Daemon, admit defeat!" Rhaegarmanded, shing the dagger away and pressing his sword to Daemon''s brow.


    In an instant, the winner was decided.


    Daemon''s body stiffened, his face dark with anger.


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes, Daemon''s dragon, rose into the air, spitting scarlet dragonfire in fury. Cannibal''s green vertical pupils shed with hostility as it swooped down, ghostly green dragonfire zing.


    Boom...


    The green mes filled the sky, but Caraxes dodged nimbly, disappearing into the clouds.


    "Roar--"


    Cannibalnded on the north shore of God''s Eye Lake, his head held high in disdain. It announced a truce; now was not the time for a hunt. Caraxes, hidden above the clouds, left a faint scarlet trail across the white clouds.


    In the martial arena, the brief sh between the dragons was a stunning spectacle. The nobles watched in fear, knowing they would be the first to suffer if a dragon fight broke out.


    On the tform, the Targaryens were equally rmed, standing and staring at the duel below.


    Rhaegar stood over Daemon, sword poised, demanding his surrender. His cheeks were flushed, and his forehead glistened with sweat, but his violet eyes shone brightly.


    Daemon, with Rhaegar''s sword pressed to his forehead, forced a smile. "Not bad, you are strong."


    "Enough to deal with you," Rhaegar retorted, his tone devoid of manners. Trained by Syrio in the art of fast swordy since childhood, his speed and strength had reached an impressive level.


    Dang!


    The portly referee struck the gong with vigor, his red robes fluttering as he announced loudly, "Congrattions to Prince Rhaegar of House Targaryen! He has defeated all his opponents and is the champion of this tournament!"


    Drummers beat a lively rhythm and trumpeters yed celebratory tunes, filling the air with joy. The nobles in the audience erupted into cheers, their excitement palpable.


    "Prince Rhaegar..."


    "Long live the Hier Prince..."


    The nobility of Westeros, known for their admiration of strength, couldn''t contain their enthusiasm for the victorious prince.


    In the arena, Rhaegar smiled and raised his hands to acknowledge the cheers. Though he didn''t like the noise, he epted it as his reward for winning.


    The referee, still in high spirits, continued, "Prince Rhaegar has triumphed! This summer belongs to him. Thend flourishes, wisdom and wealth greet all!"


    His words, full of praise, resonated with the crowd. Inspired, the nobles began chanting Rhaegar''s titles, each more grandiose than thest. Known as the Good Prince, Breaker of Shackles, and Ruin Maker, Rhaegar''s des echoed across the Narrow Sea.


    Yet, none seemed fitting for the moment. The title "Young Dragonlord" felt out of ce. As thoughts turned to the lushness of summer and the promise of a bountiful harvest, someone remembered Rhaegar''s grandfather, Baelon Targaryen, known as the The Spring Prince.


    In the midst of the seasonal shift from spring to summer, a voice called out, "The Summer Prince!"


    Summer, representing the height of June and the zing sun, seemed perfect. Rhaegar epted the title with a nod, mounting his silver-white warhorse and riding slowly around the arena.


    The cheers grew louder, with the nobles embracing the new title.


    "The Summer Prince..."


    "Long live the prince..."


    On the high tform, Viserys pped his hands andughed, overjoyed at his eldest son''s victory.


    Hearing the title of "Summer Prince," his joy was palpable, and tears glistened in the corners of his eyes. His father, Baelon, had been known as the Spring Prince, a symbol of hope, glory, and theing of the spring. Baelon was also a remarkable Targaryen, having tamed thergest dragon of his time, Vhagar.


    Viserys caught a glimpse of Alicent and suddenly remembered something. He motioned for the Kingsguards, the brothers Erryk and Arryk Cargyll, to enter the field.


    Rhaegar was still basking in the cheers when the Cargyll brothers approached, one carrying a woodennce and the other holding a crown of flowers.


    "Prince," Arryk said, his face alight with excitement as he offered thence.


    "Thank you, Ser," Rhaegar replied, smiling as he took it.


    "Yoururels, Prince," Erryk said solemnly, presenting the flower crown woven with purple stamens.


    Though the flower crown was simple, it symbolized the highest honor. Rhaegar smiled brightly and dered, "I will give it to my loving and beautiful queen."


    "Roar!" Cannibal soared above the arena, letting out a high-pitched roar, sensing the emotions of its rider.


    "Haha, thank you partner," Rhaegarughed, raising hisnce high. He urged his silver-white warhorse into a gallop, circling the arena to bask in the glory.


    The shadow of the dragon swooped down, spraying ghostly green Dragonfire that dotted the blue sky, creating a dramatic backdrop.


    Finally, he reined in his horse beneath the high tform. His handsome face, framed by silver-gold hair, gleamed in the sunlight, his violet eyes sparkling. The ck dragon hovered above, his shiny silver armor gleaming and his red robes billowing.


    The fence of the high tform was lined with figures-exquisitely dressed nobledies, eyes bright with admiration, hoping to receive the "Crown of Love and Beauty".


    Rhaegar held hisnce high, his gaze fixed on one person. Her long silver-blonde hair flowed to her waist, pulled back in a thin braid. She wore a light purple gown and a Valyrian steel pendant with three dragon heads around her neck, the simplicity of the ensemble entuating her beauty.


    Rhaenyra leaned against the fence, hands in front of her, watching him with a smile. Rhaegar approached, offering the purple flower crown at the tip of hisnce, and said sincerely, "Rhaenyra, you my true queen of love and beauty."

 Chapter 349: Valyrian Steel Sword – Realm’s Delight

    Chapter 349: Valyrian Steel Sword �C Realm��s Delight


    "Uh huh~"


    Rhaenyra looked at him quietly without saying a word.


    Rhaegar''s smile remained steady as he lifted the mounted spear higher and said tenderly, "Rhaenyra, it belongs to you."


    The nobledies looked on, filled with envy and jealousy.


    Hena pulled Maris over, staring intently at the purple wreath.


    Jeyne, Margaery, Alicent, and other women also gazed at the scene, knowing that being gifted with a crown of love and beauty was an honor women cherished for the rest of their lives.


    Rhaenyra shook her head gently, her eyes shifting from Rhaegar to her t belly.


    Rhaegar hesitated for a moment, his movement with the mountednce stiffening slightly.


    "Phew~~"


    The white horse beneath him neighed, carrying the young prince away from the high tform.


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed as he held the reins, letting the horse walk away. The white horse moved briskly, kicking its hooves as it circled the arena, receiving more congrattions from the nobles.


    As he rode, Rhaegar pondered the situation and soon understood what had gone wrong. Not long after, he stopped below the high tform once again.


    "Prince, hand over the crown of love and beauty!"


    A bold girl cried out, squeezing to the edge of the fence and waving vigorously.


    The nobledies swarmed around, their eyes fixed on Rhaegar as if he were a prize to be imed.


    "Brother, here!!!"


    Hena stood on her tiptoes, her face beaming with a smile.


    She wasn''t alone. Jeyne and Jessamyn also raised their hands, their eyes burning with anticipation.


    Since Rhaenyra wouldn''t ept theurels of love and beauty, they hoped to receive them instead.


    Rhaegar stopped beneath Rhaenyra, smiled, and raised his ridingnce. "Rhaenyra, I''ve prepared a gift for you."


    He reached into his crimson cloak and, with a flourish, pulled out a sheathed fine sword.


    The sheath was made of ck cowhide, the hilt as bright as the moon, and the de was engraved with a gorgeous pattern of the dawn.


    Seeing it was ady''s one-handed sword, Rhaenyra''s eyes were puzzled, but she did not move.


    With a light shake of his left hand, Rhaegar unsheathed the sword, revealing a two-finger-wide de with a moonlight-white luster embellished with water wave patterns.


    Holding the scabbard high, Rhaegar said seriously, "Rhaenyra, I forged it for you, a Valyrian steel sword like like Dark Sister."


    Rhaenyra had admired the Warrior Queen Visenya since she was a child, even styling her hair to mimic Visenya''s fine braid pulled behind her head.


    Dark Sister had been gifted to their aunt Rhaenys, stipting it was a legacy of the Master of Dragons.


    For thisdy''s one-handed sword, Rhaegar had melted down the cherished Valyrian steel sword "Truth" to gather the necessary materials.


    With the precious Valyrian steel sword before her, Rhaenyra was lost in thought for a moment before she finally spoke. "Does it have a name?"


    "Valyrian Steel Sword - Realm''s Delight," Rhaegar said, his gaze deep with meaning. "It belongs uniquely to you, as the third official House Sword, carrying your title from generation to generation."


    The introduction of a brand-new Valyrian steel sword instantly captured everyone''s attention. Throughout the vast arena, Valyrian steel swords were a rarity, with only a handful known to exist.


    The Targaryen House was famed for possessing two such swords: ckfyre and Dark Sister. Well-informed nobles were aware that the Crown Prince had acquired and reforged a Valyrian steel sword, naming it "Dragon''s w," during the War with the Triarchy.


    In the martial arts arena, the distinctive "Dragon''s w" was conspicuously absent, reced by a new ck Valyrian steel sword, now named as "Realm''s Delight."


    The appearance of this new sword stirred spection among the spectators about how many Valyrian steel swords the royal family had secretly acquired.


    Rhaenyra, recognizing the significance, leaned down to ept Realm''s Delight, cradling it tightly.


    The sword, named after her title, delighted her beneath herposed exterior.


    "Rhaenyra," Rhaegar called, spreading a smile, expecting her to ept theurels again.


    Rhaenyra nced at him, hesitated, then said nonchntly, "My return gift."


    She angled her hands around her sword but did not touch the crown.


    Rhaegar, puzzled, noticed a light object fall into his palm.


    It was a strand of silver-gold slightly curly hair tied with a red ribbon.


    Rhaegar frowned slightly, his gaze shifting to Hena on the high tform. She was smiling at him, surrounded by Aegon, Tormund, and Daeron.


    Filled with doubt, Rhaegar withdrew his gaze. The silver-gold hair and purple eyes were characteristic of Valyrians, and most Targaryens shared these traits. Yet, there were subtle variations within the family, such as tinum blonde or honey-colored hair, and blue or light purple eyes.


    Pure bloodlines within the family often featured long, straight silver-blonde hair, as seen in great-grandfather Jaehaerys, grandfather Baelon, father Viserys, and uncle Daemon.


    The House Arryn in the Vale, including his mother Aemma Arryn, also had long, straight, pure silver-gold hair. Rhaegar and Rhaenyra inherited these pure traits, with long, straight silver-blonde hair and violet eyes.


    In contrast, Viserys and Alicent''s children had slightly different features. Aegon, Hena, and Aemond had silver-gold curly hair, with Hena and Aemond having light and dark purple eyes, respectively.


    Only little Daeron had long, straight, pure silver-gold hair and violet eyes. This distinction made him particrly favored by both Viserys and Rhaegar.


    As he pondered, the white horse at his hip moved its hooves, carrying him away from the high tform. Rhaegar''s expression was clouded, as he began to piece together the origin of the strand of hair. It wasn''t Rhaenyra''s, nor Hena''s, and none of the Vryons or Celtigars seemed involved.


    Considering the entire Rivends, it could only belong to one of the two bastard daughters ced there. Something must have gone wrong, leading the hair to end up in Rhaenyra''s possession. No wonder Tormund had been tight-lipped about his investigation; Rhaenyra had likely warned him to stay out of their sibling affairs.


    Rhaegar''s smile faded, and his excitement plummeted. He knew that with Rhaenyra''s cunning, she was aware of his severed ties with the bastarddy. Handling this matter privately would have sufficed, but to publicly embarrass him at the tournament was harsh.


    "Roar--"


    A low roar echoed as the Cannibal pped its ck wings, exuding an intimidating presence. The dragon reflected Rhaegar''s turbulent emotions.


    "Ride!"


    Rhaegar bellowed, guiding his white horse in circles around the arena. He casually slung thence over his shoulder, and his clenched left hand ignited a me that burned away the trivialities.


    In their 16 years together, Rhaegar and Rhaenyra had rarely quarreled. Thest time he felt this angry was when Rhaenyra had been lured into a brothel by Daemon, prompting him to instruct the Erryk brothers to stage a rescue.


    His emotions were mixed. He was disappointed by Rhaenyra''s spiteful behavior and annoyed with himself for getting involved with bastard daughters. In his moment of triumph, he faced shame.


    As he rode around the arena, the cheers from the audience noticeably diminished. The nobles weren''t fools; the crown prince being twice rejected in offering the crown of love and beauty hinted at deeper issues.


    In the stands, Viserys'' joy had vanished, reced by a heavy heart. He never imagined his eldest son and daughter could fall out to this extent. He nced secretly at Maester Munkun, the court record-keeper dispatched by the Citadel. Every detail of this tournament would be meticulously recorded.


    The white horse brought Rhaegar back below the high tform for the third time, the atmosphere tense and uncertain.


    Rhaegar restrained his smile and eased his horse into a casual trot around the arena. The white horse moved gracefully, and Rhaegar couldn''t help but admire the scenery, including the eager girls on the high tform.


    As the horse stopped in front of Jeyne, her hands sped the fence, and she looked at him with concern. Rhaegar raised his riding crop, revealing the purpleurel crown, and asked with a smile, "Would you be my queen?"


    "Of course," Jeyne replied, though her eyes showed a hint of helplessness. She nced at Rhaenyra before looking back at Rhaegar, but she didn''t reach out to take theurel crown. Jeyne loved Rhaegar and desired the crown of love and beauty, but she knew this was a delicate moment in the quarrel between Rhaegar and Rhaenyra. Taking theurel now could be problematic for both sides.


    Rhaegar sighed and continued leading his horse around the arena. The girls at the edge of the fence watched with burning eyes. The horse stopped again, this time in front of Margaery, the Rose of Highgarden. Dressed in a red gown, her light red curls framed a delicate face, making her look like a blooming rose.


    Rhaegar lowered the ridingnce before her, and Margaery''s eyes sparkled with anticipation. She took a deep breath, her low-cut dress entuating her figure, and her brown eyes twinkled. She had convinced her father to attend the tournament to catch the Prince''s eye.


    Margaery was well aware of Rhaegar and Jeyne''s private rtionship, which, though not widely known, was no secret among the well-informed nobles. Jeyne had relied on Regent Yorbert Royce in her early years of rule, andter allied with Rhaenyra to strengthen her position as Lady of the Eyrie. Despite resistance from some valley nobles, Rhaegar''s support had solidified Jeyne''s rule.


    Margaery, the only daughter of the Old Tyrell after the loss of his male heir, saw an opportunity. Like Jeyne and Cassandra, who had inherited Storm��s End, Margaery coveted Highgarden. She aimed to follow Jeyne''s example and align herself with Rhaegar, rather than seeking to marry another Targaryen prince, which seemed almost impossible.


    The Queen''s three sons and Crown Prince Rhaegar shared the same father but different mothers, and having one of them marry a Lady of the Realm was already the limit; there would never be a second.


    ��Hoo~��


    Margaery calmed her nerves, cupped her cheeks with both hands, and said wistfully, ��Prince, thank you for looking at it, but I think it already belongs to someone else.��


    Anyone with sense could see that theurel was a hot potato.


    Rhaegar shook his head and continued to lead the horse forward.


    The white horse slowly lifted its hooves and passed Hena at the edge of the fence.


    ��Brother...��


    Hena''s eyes were full of excitement, but as soon as she opened her mouth, Maris beside her covered it.


    Maris wrapped her arms around her best friend''s fumbling hands and whispered in her ear, ��Stop it, you''re not getting any benefits from taking it.��


    ��Ooo~~��


    Hena struggled, whimpering in dissatisfaction.


    She wasn��t a fool; of course she could tell something was wrong.


    But Rhaenyra didn��t want it, so what harm was there if she took the flower crown? It wasn��t as if it was forcefully snatched.


    Rhaegar squinted and, without looking back, turned his horse around and headed back.


    It was fine to give it to the other nobledies, but not to Hena.


    This little girl had impure intentions toward him and he could not respond to them.


    Turning in circles, the white horse reentered below Rhaenyra.


    Rhaenyra''s expression was calm, holding the fine sword in her arms, with no sign of anxiety.


    The Targaryen bloodline was rich in magic, and it would attract people close to each other.


    No matter how far away Rhaegar went, he would eventually return to her.


    Rhaegar looked up, his eyes as calm as water.


    For a moment, the two siblings looked at each other, seeing through each other''s eyes.


    Rhaegar pulled out the ancient gold coin from his bosom, hiding it under his cloak with his hands in the air, his palms lit up with a faint fire.


    Utilizing the shaping properties of the [Dragonstone] sorcery, the ancient gold coin melted and was recast.


    Half a secondter, a dark gold colored dragon ring appeared, barely fitting on the top of the riding spear, along with the purple flower crown.


    Rhaegar''s eyes cleared and he sighed, ��Sister, I remembered it.��


    From his earliest memories, Rhaenyra had been the person who treated him the best.


    In aa before the age of three, Rhaenyra would hum a luby to him.


    When he became the heir prince at the age of six, Rhaenyra quietly cared for him as he grew up, regardless of the past.


    The siblings were intimate for three years, and now Rhaenyra had a little life in her belly.


    Rhaegar really could not think of a reason to break this bond.


    Rhaenyra��s eyes filled with tears. She leaned over to take off the ring and flower crown, biting her lower lip. ��You remember just fine.��


    She was just angry that Rhaegar always had to be with other women behind her back.


    If Rhaegar had just been a man next to her, she would have gritted her teeth and endured it.


    But they were connected by blood, born to belong to each other.


    Whether they were still connected or not, she saw it as a betrayal in her eyes.


    Rhaegar would have to admit fault for that!


    Sniffling, Rhaenyra ced theurel crown on top of her head, the dragon ring on her left index finger, recing several gemstone rings on both hands.


    She loved ornate essories, whether it was expensivece or jewels of all colors.


    When she was tense, she would twirl her ring to relieve her inner stress.


    ��Roar����


    Cannibal growled lowly and pped its wings to slowly lower its altitude, kicking up a gust of wind as itnded outside the tournament arena.


    Rhaegar rolled off his horse and quickly walked up to the high tform.


    In full view of everyone, he picked Rhaenyra up by the waist and forcefully said, ��Let''s go back to Dragonstone Ind!��


    He was going to prepare the ceremony, and the rest of the matter was out of his sight.

 Chapter 350: Dragonstone Island Ceremony!

    Chapter 350: Dragonstone Ind Ceremony!


    More than a month had gone by.


    On Dragonstone Ind, inside the Stone Drum Tower, the cobblestoned bath bubbled and steamed, filling the air with a thick mist. A figurey submerged in the boiling water, long silver-gold hair draped over the edge of the pool, his entire body motionless except for the faint sound of snoring.


    Crunch.


    The bathroom door creaked open and a silhouette entered. Long silver-gold hair cascaded down her back, a ck strapless dress entuated her figure, and her bright purple eyes shone with a subtle luster.


    Rhaenyra bent her knees and sat by the pool, gazing serenely at the person in the water through the steam. After a while, a mischievous smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She twisted a strand of hair that had fallen into the pool and yfully brushed it against his handsome cheek.


    "Rhaegar, you are so boring."


    Rhaegar muttered without opening his eyes, ducking sideways, "Rhaenyra, stop."


    Letting go of the hair, Rhaenyra reached out to pinch the tip of his nose and teased, "Get up, father and the others are here."


    A month had passed. The two siblings had hidden away on Dragonstone Ind, spending their days together in seclusion. The tournament had ended, and Viserys and Alicent were busy hosting the many guests and preparing for the great journey to Dragonstone Ind for the uing ceremony.


    "Wake me when we get ashore. I''m exhausted," Rhaegar murmured, turning over in the water. He lifted his arms to wrap around Rhaenyra''s waist, resting his cheek against her dress-covered belly. After a month, her once-t belly was now slightly curved, and the gown that had once fit perfectly was now a little tight.


    ording to both Grand Maester Orwyle and Dragonpit Maester Maynard, Rhaenyra was indeed pregnant. Her unique physique had made it difficult to detect before, but at the time of the tournament, she was two months along. Now, at three months, the fetus was stable.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes softened with a mixture of amusement and helplessness. She patted Rhaegar on the back, urging him like a child, "Do not make me repeat myself. We have important business to attend to."


    Rhaegar opened his eyes andined, "What do you mean I wasn''t serious? I spent all night looking for that wild dragon and didn''t sleep until dawn."


    Rhaenyra scowled, her tone dry, "And did you find it?"


    "Well, no..." Rhaegar admitted, momentarily speechless. He rubbed her slightly rounded belly, a yful glint in his eyes, as if trying to coax the baby from within.


    The elusive wild dragon was cunning, often flying to Dragonstone Ind under the cover of night, exploring the towering Dragonmont. The Dragonkeepers couldn''t find a trace of it, only discovering remnants of its presence on the mountain.


    The wild dragon had startled the dormant Silverwing the previous night. Rhaegar had driven the Cannibal to track it, but after a fruitless night, he had lost its trail in the darkness.


    "Get up, don''t make me lecture you," Rhaenyra chided, pping the water to wake Rhaegar fully.


    She called softly toward the door, "Dae,e in."


    The bathroom door opened, and a figure entered, head bowed over a tray. Silver-blonde curls framed a face with translucent white skin, bearing a slight resemnce to Rhaenyra.


    Dae knelt by the pool, setting down the tray ofundry and offering a washcloth.


    "Get out," Rhaegar said tly, turning away.


    Dae remained silent, ncing timidly at Rhaenyra. With a nod from Rhaenyra, she tiptoed out.


    As soon as the door closed, Rhaegar stepped out of the water and wrapped his arms around Rhaenyra, nibbling on her bare neck.


    "Rhaegar, don''t be mean," Rhaenyra giggled, half-heartedly pushing him away while enjoying the intimacy.


    She knew he was expressing his displeasure. The bastard daughters had fallen into her hands, and instead of dealing with them privately or kicking them out, she had kept Dae as her personal maid and given the younger La to Hena as a ymate. It was a constant reminder to Rhaegar to mind his own business.


    After some yful sshing, which soaked the hem of her ck dress and outlined her delicate figure, Rhaegar calmed himself and began drying off and dressing.


    "Rhaegar, carry me out," Rhaenyra demanded, her eyes dreamy and her body tingling.


    Leaning down to kiss her glossy forehead, Rhaegar whispered, "You''re the queen."


    ...


    In the blink of an eye, several days passed.


    Dragonstone Ind, Dragonmont.


    On a t open space, several bonfires were lit, and thousands of princes and nobles gathered.


    Targaryen, Vryon, Celtigar��all the Valyrian Houses were present.


    Everywhere on Dragonmont, giant dragons were either lounging or flying free.


    At the center of the crowd, two figures stood facing each other.


    Beneath his long silver-gold hair, Rhaegar wore a red and white outer robe with a wide, thick linen belt. His face was stoic, his long hair worn casually.


    Rhaenyra stood with her head bowed, an ancient wooden headdress on her head.


    Under the watchful eyes of most of the nobles and lords of the Seven Kingdoms, a ceremony following ancient Valyrian traditions was taking ce.


    Rhaenyra bowed her head slightly, holding a sharp dragonss in her hand. She cut her lower lip, releasing a trickle of crimson blood.


    Rhaegar held her hand and used the dragonss to simrly cut his own lower lip.


    They each dipped their forefingers into the blood, marking each other''s foreheads with a vague symbol.


    The marks were ancient Valyrian words.


    Rhaegar''s forehead bore the symbol for "blood.


    Rhaenyra''s forehead bore the symbol for "fire."


    The ck dragonss continued to move, slicing through their palms and spurting blood.


    Rhaegar and Rhaenyra looked into each other''s eyes, seemingly impervious to the pain, and sped their bleeding palms tightly.


    A gold silk ribbon on a ck background was wrapped around their joined hands, symbolizing the binding of their hearts.


    Outside, Maester Maynard of the Dragon''s Lair held his walking stick and chanted in High Valyrian:


    <em>"Henntoti anogar, Va syndroti v?edroma (Blood of two, Joined as one)."</em>


    Rhaenyra epted a bronze goblet and took a slow, shallow sip before handing it to Rhaegar.


    <em>"M��ro perzot gihoti / El��droma i?rza sir (Ghostly me and song of shadows)."</em>


    Rhaegar, without breaking eye contact, took the goblet.


    <em>"Izuli amp�� perzi, Pruminti s��teksi (Two hearts as embers, Forged in fourteen fires)."</em>


    Under the eyes of many, he raised the cup to his lips and drank.


    Maynard''s voice was low as he continued the benediction:


    <em>"Hen jeny mazrion, Q��lossa ozundesi (A future promised in ss, The stars stand witness.)"</em>


    <em>"Syndroro o?o j��do, Ry kivia mazvestraksi (The vow spoken through time, Of darkness and light)."</em>


    By the fire, Viserys watched with excitement as the long-awaited scene unfolded. Alicent, supporting her husband, heard him whisper the word "Aemma" and her lips twitched slightly.


    The four younger siblings��Aegon, Hena, Aemond, and Daeron��stood side by side, looking at their eldest sister and brother with solemnity.


    This was a traditional ceremony of the ancient Valyrian Dragonlords, transcending the ceremonies of the Seven Gods of Westeros.


    The bronze goblet ttered to the floor as the siblings smiled at each other.


    Rhaegar leaned forward slightly, his blood-stained lips parting slightly.


    Rhaenyra gazed at him fondly, tilting her head closer in response.


    In that moment, all resentments vanished, leaving only love and tenderness.


    Their silhouettes gradually ovepped, their hands caressing each other''s necks, entwined as if intoxicated.


    "Roar-"


    Cannibal, perched atop Dragonmont, let out a deafening roar, his green eyes watching the ceremony below.


    "Roar..."


    Syrax roared incessantly, lifting his wings and hovering over the clearing, releasing a mouthful of golden dragonfire.


    The dragons did their best to celebrate their riders.


    In response, more dragons joined the chorus of roars.


    Dreamfyre, Seasmoke, and Caraxes...


    Several dragons soared into the sky, while others stood on Dragonmont, participating in this ancient ceremony.


    The two figures lingered in their embrace, reluctantly parting after a while.


    Rhaegar smiled, and Rhaenyra pursed her red lips slightly.


    With their foreheads pressed together, they both thought, "Blood and Fire!"

 Chapter 351: Cannibal vs Smoking Sea Wild Dragon

    Chapter 351: Cannibal vs Smoking Sea Wild Dragon


    At night, the stars shone brightly.


    In the Stone Drum Tower, a pair of silhouettes intertwined on the couch.


    After a long while, their truce came, and Rhaegar lit the candle.


    Draped in a silk robe, he stepped out onto the open balcony to catch the breeze. The heat made his blood feel like it was boiling.


    As far as the eye could see, a faint cluster of firelight flickered in the direction of the distant beach.


    "She''s gone," Rhaegar muttered under his breath.


    The red priestess, who had participated in the daytime ceremony, had returned to Vntis by boat overnight. She had a cunning mind and was useful in her way.


    A month ago, after he and Rhaenyra returned to Dragonstone Ind, a fire had broken out in Harrenhal. A dozen barrels of wildfire stored in the sanctuary''s cer had identally ignited, creating an explosion. Two priests and the Tully family''s second son, Milov, were buried in the wildfire.


    A slight smile curled on Rhaegar''s lips as he closed his eyes, enjoying the cool night breeze. It was a pity that Ormund Hightower was in constant contact with Otto and Aegon, making it hard to find him alone. Otherwise, there might have been another unfortunate ident.


    "Rhaegar, I''m thirsty," came a soft, hoarse voice. A warm embrace wrapped around his waist from behind.


    Rhaegar turned and smiled, wrapping his arms around the warm, soft body. He lowered his head and lightly kissed her forehead.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes were dreamy as she pressed against his chest, her breath carrying a faint scent. d in a light nightgown, her bare feet touched the expensive red carpet from Myr.


    After snuggling for a while, Rhaegar broke away and went to the table to pour a ss of warm water.


    Today''s ceremony, light and slow, had sated him for now.


    Rhaenyra rubbed her flushed cheeks and tilted her head back to ept the water he offered. Her red lips pursed around the cup, swallowing the water tantalizingly.


    "Drink slowly, don''t choke," Rhaegar said, his eyes doting on her as he lightly wiped her lower lip, slightly red and swollen from the cut.


    Having broken through the barriers, they were now in a legitimate rtionship.


    One day, when he ascended the Iron Throne, Rhaenyra would be his Queen.


    ...


    A feast was in full swing, filled with singing and dancing. Viserys was all smiles, epting toasts from every bannerman. He hadn''t been this happy in years. Seeing his children marriagee to fruition meant he had lived up to the expectations of histe wife, Aemma.


    The only slight disappointment he felt was that the banquet wasn''t grand enough. It should have been held in the Hall of a Hundred Hearths in Harrenhal, allowing all the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms to attend, and providing three days of food for the poor.


    But this traditional ceremony, following the ancient Valyrian ancestral system and witnessed by thousands of nobles and lords, was still significant. It was enough to be written into the history of the continent alongside the God''s Eye Tourney.


    "Brother, congrattions."


    Daemon, carrying his wife Laena, raised his cup in a toast.


    Viserys grinned. "In the blink of an eye, the children have grown up, and you and I are no longer young."


    "Oh, I can still toss and turn six times a night," Daemon quipped, his maic voice carrying a hint of cynicism as he wrapped his arm around Laena''s waist.


    Years had left few traces on Daemon''s handsome face, which still looked mboyant and prodigal. Viserys squinted at him and grunted disdainfully, never forgetting how Daemon had tried to seduce his daughter and assassinate his son. If not for their former brotherhood, he would have driven Daemon out of Westeros long ago.


    The two brothers sat together, drinking wine and reminiscing about their youth. Viserysughed, "I remember your first great wedding. You refused to go into the bedchamber, so I got you drunk and carried you in."


    "I was so drunk, that Bronze Bitch stripped me naked and left me outside the door to stand in the cold wind all night," Daemon replied, his tone light but filled with lingering resentment toward histe wife, Lady Rhea.


    The conversation stretchedte into the night, with the brothers sharing a moment of silent camaraderie as they watched the revelry in the hall. After a while, Daemon broke the silence.


    "Brother, my bloodline has blossomed, and I need a territory to sustain it."


    Viserys froze, gazing into his brother''s face. Aside from his usual ambitions for the Iron Throne and his previous desire for Rhaenyra, this was the first time Daemon had earnestly asked for something.


    After a moment of contemtion, Viserys rubbed his face and spoke seriously, "I''ll grant you the outlet of the ckwater Rush and build a castle for you at the royal family''s expense, ording to your specifications."


    It was a generous offer, one Viserys had clearly considered before, just waiting for Daemon to ask. Daemon took a sip of wine, a slight smile ying at the corners of his mouth.


    Viserys patted him on the shoulder and said, "The outlet of the ckwater Rush allows for trade and navigation. You and your descendants will never have to worry about money."


    There were many territories in Westeros, but few as rich and strategic as the ckwater Rush, adjacent to King''s Landing and flowing into ckwater Bay - a true treasure.


    Laena furrowed her brow in concern, holding her husband''srge hand. Daemon nced at her, then back at his brother.


    Viserys watched him expectantly.


    "Brother, it''s better to leave ckwater Rush to your descendants," Daemon said bluntly. "I have my sights set on thend beyond the Narrow Sea. It''s suitable for the second Targaryen bloodline to thrive, away from the political quagmire of King''s Landing."


    He was clear-headed. His brother''s bloodline would stay in Westeros to inherit the Iron Throne, while his would im the old Valyriannds across the Narrow Sea and avoid internal conflict. As the Pentoshi say, don''t put all your eggs in one basket.


    Viserys'' face darkened. He mmed down his wine goblet and said, his voice cracking with anger, "Daemon, why can''t you ever make things easier for me? Why do you always have to disappoint me?"


    He was the king, and peace was of the utmost importance. He had put up with a lot from his troublesome brother, but Daemon kept testing his patience.


    Daemon''s expression remained calm. "Vntis will take the lead in the war. The Sea Snake and I will participate, sensibly upying a city-state."


    "For saying such things, I could have you executed for treason!" Viserys hissed through gritted teeth, his gaze darting towards the Sea Snake, Corlys Vryon, who mingled in the crowd.


    The Vryons had always been a thorn in his side, never allowing him peace. Now, united with Daemon to seize a free city-state, they seemed to have ambitions that might rival the Iron Throne itself. Viserys couldn''t shake the worry that the Driftwood Throne would rise to challenge his own.


    "Your Grace..." Laena began, her voice filled with urgency, trying to salvage her house''s image.


    But her words were drowned out by a thunderous roar that echoed through the night sky. The Stone Drum Tower shook under the gusty wind, reverberating like a drum struck by a heavy hammer.


    ...


    On the top floor of the Stone Drum Tower, Rhaegar stood at the balcony''s edge, hands gripping the railing. Beside him, Rhaenyra snuggled close, as if she couldn''t get enough of him.


    Suddenly, a pitch-ck dragon shadow flickered across the night sky, and a furious spectral green Dragonfire swept across half of the horizon.


    "Roar..."


    In a sh, another dragon''s roar pierced the night, and a second dragon shadow sprang into view, emerging from the firelight. The dragon''s appearance was indistinct, but its size was clearly formidable.


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened. He turned and wrapped his arms around Rhaenyra, pulling her back as he continued to gaze out into the night sky.


    The moon was bright, and the stars dotted the sky, casting just enough light to reveal some features of the dragon''s shadow. This dragon had a well-proportioned body with silver-ck scales, a haze-like gray wing membrane, and an extraordinarilyrge dragon head.


    "Rhaegar, what''s going on?" Rhaenyra asked, curling up in his arms, her voice trembling with confusion.


    "It''s that wild dragon," Rhaegar replied gravely. The unique silver and ck scales immediately identified it as the wild dragon he had seen in the Smoking Sea. It had followed the footsteps of the fleet and the Cannibal, eventually arriving at Dragonstone Ind.


    With a sense of urgency, he urged Cannibal to hunt it down. The wild dragon was already fleeing, and if he didn''t act quickly, it would escape again.


    Cannibal roared repeatedly, pping its pitch-ck wings as it wove through the clouds, chasing after the wild dragon. The wild dragon was incredibly fast, disappearing into the thin clouds within moments, flying hundreds of meters in the blink of an eye.


    The two dragons raced out of Dragonstone Ind and soared towards the Gullet.


    In hisst nce, Rhaegar saw the wild dragon suddenly twist its massive head, releasing a mouthful of grayish Dragonfire that looked like smoke and mist. The Dragonfire shot out with meteoric speed.


    Cannibal''s green eyes shed with malice. The massive dragon turned deftly, its ck wing membrane batting away the dragonfire. The gray dragonfire dissipated into sparks, igniting gravel and seawater like tarsus maggots, burning intensely before gradually dying out.


    Within moments, the two dragons vanished into the night, one in pursuit of the other.


    Rhaegar, taken aback and awed, whispered, "This is a dragon of Ancient Valyria!"


    The texture of the wild dragon''s Dragonfire was so simr to Cannibal''s ethereal green Dragonfire. Its shape and features were markedly different from the family''s dragons, with an exceptionallyrge head and fierce, thick fangs. There was a distinct simrity to Caraxes'' slender body, a testament to its ancient Valyrian heritage.


    ...


    The Gullet, Sharp Point


    The wild dragon fled frantically, its ck jewel-like eyes shing with fear as it swooped below the clouds and swooped down toward the sea.


    "Roar--"


    A muffled dragon roar echoed from behind. The beast, more than twice the size of its prey, struggled to keep up.


    Cannibal swooped down, slicing through the waves with ease, its green pupils fixed on its prey. The desire to kill filled his mind, his blood boiling likeva. Its jagged teeth gleamed with traces of green dragonfire, and saliva hung from its fangs.


    This was a rare opportunity for an open hunt, and Cannibal, who had long thirsted for dragon blood, would not allow failure.


    "Roar..."


    The putrid stench of Cannibal reached the wild dragon''s nostrils, and it roared shrilly, turning to spray mouthfuls of grayish Dragonfire.


    Boom--


    Cannibal responded with a torrent of eerie green Dragonfire, which engulfed the gray mes, exploding into a cloud of green smoke in the night air.


    Cannibal plunged headlong into the Dragonfire, its ck scales glowing with a sinister ck light, and its green pupils radiating bloodthirsty madness.


    "Roar--"


    The monstrous dragon''s head loomed ever closer. The ck dragon, as huge as a mountain, closed in, its abyssal mouth aiming to tear its prey apart.


    "Roar!..."


    A burst of boiling dragon blood bloomed, and the wild dragon''s wail resounded through the wilderness, its figure enveloped by the ghastly beast.

 Chapter 352: The Enemy In the Narrow Sea

    Chapter 352: The Enemy In the Narrow Sea


    The following day, the sun rose above the sea.


    In the Lord''s bedroom of Stone Drum Tower, Rhaenyray with her eyes closed, her face rxed, sleeping lightly on Rhaegar''s legs. He leaned on the edge of the bed, the neckline of his loose robe falling open to reveal a delicate corbone, his skin as smooth as carved jade.


    The siblings had waited all night for Cannibal''s return, eventually falling asleep in the early hours of the morning. Separated from reality, Rhaegar drifted into a slumber, his dreams filled with scattered fragments of a pitch-ck dragon roaring angrily over a vast sea.


    Creak��


    The door to the room was pushed open with a soft rattle.


    "Uh huh~"


    Rhaenyra grunted, rolling over in a daze. Rhaegar woke up from his light sleep, raising his eyes sleepily. He saw Sara enter with a tter of hearty breakfast, her steps noiseless on the floor.


    "How was the feastst night?" Rhaegar asked, rubbing his brow, thinking about the ceremony.


    "The king celebratedte into the night, and everyone praised it," Sara whispered softly before quietly exiting the room.


    Thump��


    The door closed gently behind her, and Rhaegar shook his head, fully waking up. He looked out the window; dawn was just breaking.


    "Cannibal hasn''t returned yet," Rhaegar murmured, a slight anxiety rising in his heart.


    "Rhaegar, I''m so hungry," Rhaenyra muttered vaguely, arching her head against his leg. Even in her sleepy state, she couldn''t escape her hunger.


    Rhaegar gently brushed the hair covering her face, revealing her flushed cheeks. The more he looked at her, the more he was moved. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, his nose nuzzling against her.


    Rhaenyra wrinkled her delicate face, mumbling in confusion, "Stop it, I''m hungry."


    "Wait a little," Rhaegar replied with a smile. He carefully moved her off his legs, feeling the ache in his back and legs as he stood.


    He walked over to the table, where a tray held a breakfast for five: bread, ham, jam, and arge jar of fresh buttermilk. He picked up a piece of bread, dipped it in jam, rolled it with a few slices of ham, and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.


    Yesterday had been a busy day, and in the evening, he had to serve Rhaenyra. He was tired and hungry. As he swallowed the food, he felt his energy return and his mind started to clear.


    After a moment of silence, he wondered, "It''s about time for Cannibal to return." Regardless of the hunt''s sess, the dragon shouldn''t stay out all night.


    As if responding to his thoughts, a low roar echoed from near the beach. A dark behemoth descended from the clouds.


    "Roar��"


    Cannibal had returned.


    Rhaegar snapped his head up and ran quickly to the balcony to look out.


    The pitch-ck dragon immediately came into view. Cannibal was covered in blood, one of its great wings half fallen off, its body trembling and unsteady as it leapt over the sea cliffs.


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened in surprise, and a shiver ran down his spine.


    Cannibal roared weakly, each p of its wings a struggle. Its green pupils locked onto the empty cliffs at the edge of Stone Drum Tower.


    Boom...


    The huge body descended slowly, its wings suddenly losing their bnce. Cannibal fell heavily from the sky, plowing a deep furrow into the cliff.


    "Cannibal!!" Rhaegar cried in rm, shocked to see the dragon in such a sorry state after so many years.


    He quickly turned from the balcony and ran from the room.


    Rhaenyra, awakened by the dragon''s roar, saw Rhaegar''s urgent expression and asked, confused, "I heard the dragon roar. Is Cannibal back?"


    "Eat your breakfast first. I''ll go see what''s going on," Rhaegar replied, stepping into his boots, grabbing a jacket, and hurrying out the door.


    ...


    With urgency driving him, Rhaegar hurried to the cliff''s edge.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal shook its dragon head, slumping helplessly in the gully, panting heavily with its mouth open.


    "Cannibal, how are you?" Rhaegar eximed, stepping forward to approach the pitch-ck dragon, cautiously reaching out to touch its scaled muzzle, which emitted a warm, sticky sma residue.


    Wide-eyed, Rhaegar meticulously examined every inch of the dragon''s wounded body.


    Near the thick base of its neck, deep, meter-long bite marks marred its scales, oozing hot dragon blood that sizzled on the scorched green grass beneath.


    Its majestic chest bore a gapingceration, where shattered scales mixed with blood to release a pungent fishy odor.


    On its left wing, a broken supporting bone left a gaping hole in the membrane, evidence of a savage encounter with arge beast.


    Shocked, Rhaegar asked, "Cannibal, did you face the wild dragon?"


    Cannibal hailed from noble lineage, its wild dragon origins endowing it with formidable prowess inbat. Yet, how could it sustain such injuries while hunting a dragon significantly smaller than itself?


    "Roar..."


    As if sensing Rhaegar''s concern, Cannibal forcefully lifted its massive dragon head, its throat pulsating as it regurgitated a sizable mass onto the ground.


    With a wet thud, a silver-ck half of a dragon tail sttered with corrosive acid hit the earth, surrounded by chunks of shredded meat and several fresh, lifeless human bodies.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal let out a muffled roar, its green eyes reflecting a hint of pride as he jabbed its muzzle at Rhaegar, seeking recognition.


    Struggling to maintain his bnce, Rhaegar gripped the dragon''s muzzle firmly.


    He sensed Cannibal''s attempt to suppress its fury and demonstrate its strength.


    Lowering his gaze, Rhaegar examined the regurgitated remains.


    The severed dragon''s tail, about five meters long, indicated that a substantial portion had been torn off in a single bite.


    Chunks of shredded flesh covered in silver-ck scales included piecesrge enough to havee from the dragon''s neck.


    Unfortunately, there were no remains of the dragon''s head or wings.


    Frowning, Rhaegar surmised that the Smoking Sea Wild Dragon had likely escaped Cannibal.


    Finally, his gaze fell on the faceless human corpses.


    They were male, their disheveled reddish-purple hair and clothing resembling Myrish mercenaries.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal regained some strength, its wings supporting its body as it revealed a belly pierced with a dozen steel spears.


    Apart from the cracked bone in its left wing, the severe injury was primarily due to the elite steel spears embedded in its abdomen.


    "Pirates of the Triarchy!" Rhaegar''s expression turned icy.


    Cannibal''s green vertical pupils narrowed tightly, its dragon head resting against Rhaegar''s hand as its ragged panting gradually subsided.


    Rhaegar felt as if his eyes were closing, vague thoughts forming in his mind.


    His head buzzed, fragmented memories shing before him.


    Nighttime, above the Narrow Sea.


    Cannibal''s green eyes gleamed with dominance, its hind feet gripping the neck of the Smoking Sea Wild Dragon, jaws open to rend flesh and blood.


    "Roar..."


    The Smoking Sea Wild Dragon struggled fiercely, ws shing Cannibal''s chest, releasing a burst of gray Dragonfire.


    After a fierce skirmish, Cannibal, with its size advantage, subdued its prey, sinking its teeth into the thick neck of the Smoking Sea Wild Dragon.


    The Smoking Sea Wild Dragon screamed in agony, snapping its ws at Cannibal''s left wing, shattering bone and tearing arge chunk of flesh in a furious struggle.


    Boom��


    Seizing the opportunity, the Smoking Sea Wild Dragon spat a mouthful of gray dragonfire at Cannibal''s head and attempted to escape with a two-legged leap.


    Cannibal tightly closed its vertical pupils to shield its eyes from the Dragonfire.


    Despite the injuries to its left wing, Cannibal refused to let go of the dragon meat in its mouth, furiously chasing its prey through the air.


    The two dragons chased each other, their speeds evenly matched.


    From the Throat Channel to the Narrow Sea, the Smoking Sea Wild Dragon sought refuge among the ruins of Ancient Valyria, heading towards scattered archipgos.


    The Stepstones Inds!


    "Roar��"


    Cannibal roared furiously, elerating dramatically, its massive form overtaking the Smoking Sea Wild Dragon, attacking with eerie green Dragonfire.


    Soon, the dragons shed again, crashing onto a deserted ind.


    Cannibal''s vertical pupil glowed with a sinister green light as it pounced on the Smoking Sea Wild Dragon, jaws snapping ferociously.


    In the chaotic battle, the Smoking Sea Wild Dragon retaliated with tail swipes and bites, its dragonfire erupting sporadically.


    Then, a tragic incident urred.


    The dragons'' erratic Dragonfire struck a fleet of warships lurking offshore.


    Seven or eight warships immediately retaliated, scorpion crossbows firing relentlessly at the battling giants along the coast.


    Cannibal managed to evade the direct hits aimed at its head and neck, but its chest and abdomen were exposed, pierced by steel spears.


    The Smoking Sea Wild Dragon suffered simr fate, its spine and wings pierced by projectiles, screaming in pain.


    "Roar��"


    Enraged by the interruption of its hunt, Cannibal spread its wings, swooping over the warships and unleashing billowing green Dragonfire.


    The scene blurred in Rhaegar''s mind.


    Thest image he saw: the ships aze, the Smoking Sea Wild Dragon seizing the opportunity to escape.


    Cannibal devoured a few unfortunate souls, then returned to the beach to devour the severed dragon tail left by its prey, reluctantly flying back to Dragonstone Ind.


    "Roar��"


    Cannibal unleashed a torrent of Dragonfire, its head held high, green vertical pupils heaving with exhaustion as itboriously dragged itself towards the open grass.


    Failing to capture the wild dragon left resentment and anger festering in its heart.


    Rhaegar shook off the surreal images from his mind, covering his forehead in disbelief.


    That was thebined effect of [Dreamscape] and [Knight''s Oath], identally triggered by Cannibal.


    Relieved to see the pitch-ck dragon relocated and resting, Rhaegar sighed inwardly.


    Cannibal''s injuries were superficial; mainly trauma to its left wing and severe exhaustion��30% due to physical damage and 70% due to sheer exhaustion.


    Chasing the Smoking Sea Wild Dragon all night, battling twice during daylight, and scorching three ships of pirates...


    It even made a round trip from Dragonstone to the Stepstones Inds before dawn��a feat that would exhaust any other dragon of its lineage.


    Rhaegar sighed, dragging a chunk of flesh to offer to Cannibal, satisfying its hunger.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal buried its head, swallowing the meat with disdain, flicking its tail in dissatisfaction��it wasn''t enough to sate its hunger.


    Rhaegar couldn''t take out therge chunk of dragon meat and half of the dragon''s tail just yet; Cannibal would have to endure a little longer.


    Approaching Cannibal''s belly, Rhaegar found over a dozen steel spears shattered where they had fallen on the cliffside, their barbs caught between scales.


    He grasped the end of one spear, pulling it out with all his might.


    Pfft...


    Hot dragon blood spurted out as the spear ttered to the ground.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared in agony, its body trembling, kicking up dust.


    Rhaegar grimaced, running his hands over the pitch-ck scales, muttering through clenched teeth, "Damned pirates from the Triarchy, what a foolish way to meet their end!"


    He didn''t mention how he had sought out trouble with the free cities, and how he had recklessly attacked with two dragons.


    Did they truly believe the Targaryen House was defenseless?


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal snapped its jaws, its thick, elongated tail sweeping over the mess, biting into the silver-gray scaled dragon tail, tearing and devouring it.


    It needed the magicalden flesh and blood to aid its recovery from the injuries.

 Chapter 353: Pentos Arrival

    Chapter 353: Pentos Arrival


    It took considerable effort for Rhaegar to remove the dozen steel spears embedded in Cannibal''s body.


    Dragon blood gushed from the wounds, drenching his body and scorching his loose robe, leaving him a sticky mess.


    "Rhaegar!"


    Rhaenyra''s voice cut through the tense atmosphere as she rushed in, her long hair disheveled.


    "Don''te any closer," Rhaegar warned hastily.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared, head held high, ethereal green dragonfire seeping from its jaws, its alert green vertical pupils scanning the area.


    It was wounded and irritated.


    Rhaegar ced his hands on Cannibal''s muzzle and exhaled, "Cannibal, calm down!"


    Whew...


    Cannibal snorted disdainfully, turning its head away from him.


    The Dragonkeepers of Stone Drum Tower entered in formation, casting fearful nces at the bloody, pitch-ck dragon.


    Cannibal''s appearance alone was terrifying, resembling a malevolent deity, and its bloodstained form only added to the horror.


    Rhaegar acknowledged them and instructed firmly, "Do not disturb it; its wounds will heal on their own."


    Cannibal had consumed [Life Essence], making its vitality exceptionally robust.


    Other than a slight issue with a broken bone in its left wing, the remaining injuries were negligible.


    Several seasoned Dragonkeepers nodded in understanding and encircled Cannibal from a safe distance, armed with wooden poles.


    The Dragonkeepers split into two groups, guarding the entrance of ckstone Castle to ward off any potential noble visitors.


    "Rhaegar, how is Cannibal?" Rhaenyra inquired anxiously, still unsure of the situation.


    Shaking his head, Rhaegar replied, "Nothing serious, except that the wild dragon escaped.


    If the Smoking Sea Wild Dragon escaped with injuries, the consequences would be dire.


    "Cannibal was attacked by humans?" Rhaenyra probed, eyeing the field of steel spears.


    Fine steel of such quality was notmonce and carried a hefty price tag.


    Rhaegar touched her arm reassuringly and chuckled, "Don''t worry about that now; let''s return to Stone Drum Tower."


    *Gulp...*


    Rhaenyra was about to ask another question when her stomach rumbled audibly, and her cheeks flushed crimson.


    Raising an eyebrow, Rhaegar took her hand and guided her back to the castle.


    Stone Drum Tower, hall.


    As soon as Rhaegar entered, he saw his father Viserys and his aunt Rhaenys gathered near the door, along with several others.


    "What''s the situation with Cannibal?" Viserys asked, his face drawn with concern.


    Cannibal''s strength was well-known, and themotion had rmed everyone.


    Rhaegar looked around the circle, his expression serious. "The injuries are not severe. The wild dragon we were tracking escaped, but it is also injured."


    His eyes met Daemon''s, who was standing on the edge of the group. Rhaegar walked straight to him.


    "Uncle, that wild dragon can''t have gone far. Mobilize your men to search the Stepstones Inds and the Summer Sea thoroughly," Rhaegar said urgently. "From what Cannibal showed me, the wild dragon is severely wounded. Its bnce ispromised with its tail damaged. It can''t make it back to the Smoking Sea in one go."


    Daemon''s eyes narrowed, and he nodded. "I''ll send word immediately and organize a thorough search."


    Despite his differences with his nephew, Daemon understood the importance of the task. A wild dragon loose in the realm could not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands.


    After addressing the crucial matters, Rhaegar gave a few more instructions before taking Rhaenyra upstairs.


    Tormund, dressed in his ck and white robes, crossed his arms and followed them quietly.


    ...


    Returning to the bedroom, Rhaenyra, famished, immediately began eating her breakfast.


    Rhaegar sat beside her, picking at his food absentmindedly. His gaze fixed on Tormund, the Master of Whisperers, standing by the doorway.


    "Prince," Tormund greeted, his tone softening.


    Rhaegar grunted in acknowledgment, his eyes narrowed in silent scrutiny.


    Tormund, aware of the tension, offered an excuse. "The princess said if I interfered in your personal affairs, my sister would never want to return from the Vale."


    "Skr is my subordinate and works for Lady Jeyne," Rhaegar replied curtly.


    Rhaenyra, her cheeks puffed with food, paused for a moment, then resumed eating in small bites.


    Tormund, his voice careful, added, "The princess advised me to be reasonable."


    Rhaegar turned to Rhaenyra, who continued to eat, avoiding his gaze.


    Rhaegar sighed and waved dismissively. "Send a message to Syrio. Keep a close eye on the movements of the Triarchy and Vntis."


    "As you wish," Tormund replied, pursing his lips before retreating with light steps.


    Rhaegar, exasperated, held his forehead and tore at a piece of bread in frustration.


    Tormund, despite his delicate health since childhood and extensive maester care, disyed an unexpected strength, perhaps influenced by Skr''s nature.


    ...


    Time flew by, and three dayster, the guests attending the ceremony gradually departed, making way for a new batch of visitors arriving at Dragonstone.


    A three-masted sailing ship was anchored offshore, and a small boat ferried a group of luxuriously dressed individuals to the ind.


    At the ck stone gate, Kingsguards Steffon and Lorent stood ready to greet them.


    "Roar..."


    As the group stepped onto the long stone bridge behind the gate, a sharp roar echoed from the sky. A huge scarlet figure, a dragon, soared between the clouds.


    "Goodness! It''s the Blood Wyrm," eximed a middle-aged man at the head of the group. He had a round face, a neatly trimmed beard, and an air of wealth about him. His eyes were fixed enviously on the dragon.


    Lorent''s face turned solemn. "Prince Reggio, it is best to keep quiet on the long bridge," he said in a deep voice.


    A long-faced man with ck hair and a lush beard, wearing a badge of golden scales on his chest, spoke up. "Kingsguard, the Prince is merely marveling at the dragons of House Targaryen. Please don''t mind."


    Lorent remained unmoved and replied indifferently, "Dragonstone Ind is full of dragons. It''s wise to be cautious whening from afar."


    With that, he and Steffon led the way. Steffon, who had been silent, seemed unsympathetic.


    The visitors were Prince Reggio of Pentos and his three important advisors in charge of trade, war and justice. Despite their importance, the Kingsguard showed little warmth.


    Prince Reggio''s brown eyes twinkled with amusement. "Let''s go. The scenery on Dragonstone Ind is a rare sight," he said with augh.


    As they walked across the long stone bridge, thick clouds surrounded them. Looking down, they saw rolling hills and green fields, making it seem as if they were on top of a mountain.


    "Roar..."


    Another dragon''s roar came from the clouds above them. A golden-yellow dragon burst forth, swooping mischievously over the crowd and stirring up a biting sea breeze.


    ...


    In front of the Stone Drum Tower, two figures stood serenely, observing the guests as they emerged from the clouds and mist, reaching the end of the long stone bridge.


    Rhaegar''s expression was neutral. His long silver-gold hair was braided into a twisted braid that hung naturally down his back. His purple eyes were calm andposed. He wore a white tunic under a red vest, with a white skirt embroidered with red Dragonfire patterns on his lower body. Acquered ck belt adorned with a dragon seal and green gem-studded pupils cinched his waist.


    Beside him stood Daemon, a faint smile on his lips, d in a simple ck robe. Rhaegar nced at him, the corners of his mouth twitching upward slightly. Since the ceremony, Rhaenyra had taken over his wardrobe, making his attire increasingly elegant and opulent. It was a change he appreciated, even if too much money was spent.


    "The Prince of Pentos is very wealthy. He��ll bring gifts that will dazzle you," Daemon remarked, his eyes fixed on the approaching visitors.


    Rhaegar responded calmly, "I��ve already looted the Rogare Bank. We��re not exactly in need of more funds."


    "Pentos has endured the Triarchy''s oppression for years. They��d make a considerate ally," Daemon said confidently, ignoring Rhaegar''s sarcasm.


    Rhaegar remained nomittal. "Uncle, they''re your guests. Just don''t annoy Father."


    As they spoke, the group from Pentos crossed the long stone bridge.


    "Prince, the visitors have arrived," Lorent announced, standing tall and gripping the hilt of his sword.


    "Thank you, Ser," Rhaegar nodded.


    "It''s my duty," Lorent replied, his voice clear, positioning himself behind the Heir Prince with Steffon.


    Prince Reggio of Pentos, nked by his advisers, approached with a warm smile. "Prince Daemon, it''s been a long time."


    "Wee, Prince. I miss the fine wine of Pentos," Daemon replied with a grin.


    Reggio reached out to pat Daemon''s arm, his eyes discreetly observing a dark-haired, olive-skinned woman in the background. Rhaegar watched quietly, suppressing an eye roll. He vividly recalled Daemon''s disdainful remarks about Pentos'' wine.


    Noticing Rhaegar, Reggio turned to Daemon and asked humbly, "Prince, you have yet to introduce me to this handsome Prince."


    Daemon, with a smile that didn''t quite reach his eyes, introduced, "My brother''s eldest son, known as the Ruin Maker."


    Reggio''s face lit up as he stepped forward to shake Rhaegar''s hand. "Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, I''ve long heard of your great deeds. It��s an honor to finally meet you."


    His advisers nodded and smiled in greeting. Rhaegar, however, ignored the outstretched hand, keeping his own at his side, and replied with a faint smile, "I��ve heard of you as well. Please, enter the castle."


    Without waiting for a response, Rhaegar turned and walked into the Stone Drum Tower, followed by the Kingsguard, leaving the visitors momentarily stunned. Armor-d Dragonkeepers emerged to greet them, carrying trays with salt and bread, the traditional wee.


    Prince Reggio''s smile faltered as he looked to Daemon for an exnation.


    Daemon, after a brief pause, said calmly, "It seems he doesn��t wee here."


    There was no attempt to hide the truth.


    ...


    Inside the Stone Drum Tower, Rhaegar ascended the stairs with a calm expression and rubbed his hands together. With Rhaenyra pregnant, he took extra care to maintain personal cleanliness and refrained from shaking hands indiscriminately.


    Lorent noticed Rhaegar''s meticulousness and straightened his posture, mirroring the Prince''s honorable manners.


    When they reached the meeting hall on the middle floor of the Stone Drum Tower, the open door was nked by Kingsguards Arryk and Willis, standing alert.


    "Prince," the Kingsguards greeted in unison.


    Rhaegar nodded softly. "Uh-huh." He stepped into the hall, where a crowd had already gathered.


    At the head of the hall, on a molten ck stone throne reminiscent of the Iron Throne, sat his father, Viserys. The hall''s sides were lined with royal advisers and the family of Sea Snake Corlys.


    Viserys, wearing a golden crown and an ornate robe, frowned. "Are the guests here?"


    "Daemon is leading them," Rhaegar responded.


    As he spoke, Daemon appeared at the entrance to the hall, leading the delegation from Pentos around the corner of the passageway. The guests were ushered in, ready for the meeting to begin.

 Chapter 354: Wild Dragon’s Trail

    Chapter 354: Wild Dragon��s Trail


    As they entered the council chamber, the Pentos delegation''s eyes were immediately drawn to the throne. The heavyset, ck-haired adviser with a golden scale on his chest stepped forward and addressed Viserys in a grave tone, "Your Grace of the Seven Kingdoms, Pentos sends its greetings."


    Prince Reggio nodded and smiled, cing a hand on his chest in greeting.


    Viserys, holding ckfyre handle, replied tly, "Wee, honored guests of the Free Cities."


    It was clear from his demeanor that the king, despite his constant smile, was not truly weing.


    Prince Reggio''s eyes shed with shrewdness as he took the initiative, "Your Grace, as Prince of Pentos, Ie with sincere intentions to establish a friendly alliance with the Targaryen Dynasty."


    "Is that so? I thought the Free Cities always looked down on the poverty and backwardness of Westeros," Viserys retorted, raising his head proudly.


    With a dozen dragons at his disposal, including the formidable Bronze Fury Vermithor, Viserys had ample reason for his pride. His smile was a mere formality,cking genuine warmth.


    Prince Reggio, usuallyposed and dignified, found himself momentarily at a loss for words.


    The ck-haired adviser beside him nced at Daemon, who was observing the exchange with a hand on his chest, and took over, "Your Grace, the Triarchy is amassing armaments and poses a potential threat."


    "The Prince believes that an enemy''s enemy is a friend. Pentos and the Iron Throne should be allies."


    Daemon nodded in agreement and added, "Indeed, the Triarchy''s growing presence in the disputednds is quite hostile."


    The intentions were clear: to target the Triarchy.


    Viserys frowned, his gaze shifting to Sea Snake Corlys before settling on the Hand of the King, Lyonel Strong. The proposition was straightforward: unite with the Iron Throne to confront the Triarchy and satisfy certain ambitions.


    Lyonel stepped forward, his expression serious, "The Iron Throne will not reject a sincere ally. However, the Triarchy has already suffered two defeats. I doubt they would dare to act rashly again."


    The ck-haired minister was about to respond when Prince Reggio interrupted, "Hand of the King Lyonel Strong, the Triarchy is allied with Prince Martell of Dorne, who in turn is allied with Braavos."


    "The three parties are not just eyeing the disputednds but the entire Free Cities and sea routes."


    Turning to Viserys, Reggio pressed, "Your Grace, the Iron Throne cannot contend with Braavos and Dorne simultaneously. To prevent the mes of war from reaching your homnd, you must prepare ordingly."


    The room fell silent as the two sides engaged in a flowing conversation. Viserys frowned deeper with each mention of the Triarchy''s impending war. The discussion was primarily led by Hand of the King Lyonel, who weighed the potential gains and losses.


    Viserys took a moment to look at his eldest son to gauge his thoughts. Rhaegar, however, remained silent and distant, his mind wandering. The recent incident with the wild dragon of the Smoking Sea had made him wary of the Triarchy''s intentions. While an alliance with Pentos seemed advantageous, he was reluctant to be entangled in the web of conflict woven by Daemon.


    At that moment, footsteps echoed from outside the hall. Rhaenyra entered, apanied by her handmaiden Sara. Rhaegar moved quickly to greet them.


    Due to her pregnancy, Rhaenyra had opted for a morefortable outfit: a white lining with a delicate skirt and robe of greenish-white satin. Despite her casual attire, she looked elegant, with red diamonds adorning her neckline, a blouse strung with fine pearls, and a golden ne adorning her snow-white throat.


    Rhaegar raised his hand to assist her, his concern evident. "You should be resting in your bedroom," he said softly.


    Rhaenyra ced her hand on his arm and smiled lightly. "I heard there were guests and wanted to join in the fun."


    Her pregnancy seemed to have softened her once-strong demeanor, introducing a touch of petnce. Rhaegar sighed helplessly and led her into the hall.


    Rhaenyra, likely carrying twins, had a noticeable baby bump,rger than most at three months. Rhaegar''s concern for herfort was palpable.


    As the siblings entered the hall hand in hand, they immediately caught the attention of everyone in the room. Rhaenyra smiled, her bright eyes subtly scanning the crowd. The hall was filled with elite representatives of various powers and factions.


    Sea Snake Corlys stood with Rhaenys on one side, while Daemon stood with Laena on the other. Despite being blood rtives, the two sides were clearly divided.


    Pentos and his party were, without a doubt, Daemon''s allies. Among the Small Council members, their positions were telling. Hand of the King Lyonel was engaged in conversation with the visitors, standing alone in front of the throne.


    Master of Coin Lyman, a friend of Lyonel, upied the first seat below. Otto, the Master of Civil Affairs, and Jaspy, the Master of Laws, stood together. Grand Maester Orwyle and Master of Whisperers Tormund were positioned near Rhaegar.


    These alignments clearly represented the interests of the King, Queen, and Heir Prince respectively. The hall was also guarded by Kingsguard, and its Commander, Erryk Cargyll, was also present at the Small Council, was always close to the king.


    Seeing Rhaenyra''s noticeable baby bump, the Pentos delegation nodded in greeting, acknowledging her presence.


    Prince Reggio stepped forward with enthusiasm. "Princess, forgive me for not being able to attend your ceremony with the prince. It is truly a lifelong regret."


    Rhaenyra, maintaining her dignified demeanor, smiled graciously. "That''s quite all right. I will certainly ensure you are well received as a guest of Dragonstone Ind."


    Dragonstone Ind was her domain, and she alone had the authority to extend such hospitality.


    "Thank you, princess," Reggio replied. He then beckoned to a noblewoman who presented a wooden box. "This is a gift I have prepared for you and the prince. Please, open it."


    With a nce at Rhaegar and his nod of approval, Rhaenyra opened the box to reveal a clear ss candle, the thickness of a baby''s fist.


    "This is an ancient Valyrian ss candle, acquired from an alchemist," Prince Reggio exined.


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened as he touched the candle, subtly channeling his magic into it.


    A system notification echoed in his mind: "Quest mission activated: Bloodmage''s Secret Art Candle."


    He opened the system panel to see the details.


    [Bloodmage''s Secret Art Candle]


    Exploration progress: 0.5%


    "Thank you for your kindness. This is a remarkable and memorable gift," Rhaegar said, withdrawing his hand and expressing his gratitude.


    Prince Reggio smiled warmly. "I am aware of your interest in antiquities. I''ve also brought an ancient sculpture of the the Mother, one of the Seven Gods, as a blessing for the fetus in the princess''s womb."


    His words were carefully chosen, aiming to please while maintaining decorum, and addressing their immediate needs.


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but smile. "Your passion is evident, Prince Reggio."


    It became clear why even someone as proud as Daemon befriended him. Reggio''s ability to understand and manipte people''s desires was impressive.


    With this gesture, he had won favor with both Rhaegar and Rhaenyra, making the conversation flow much more smoothly.


    Viserys, growing tired of sitting, proposed, "Prince, I have prepared a reception banquet. Let us continue our discussions there."


    "As you wish," Prince Reggio replied graciously.


    ...


    In the afternoon, Dragonmont


    The deep, resonant roar of the dragon echoed repeatedly. The pitch-ck dragonyzily on thewn, a low growl rumbling from its throat.


    "Easy there, still sulking over the failed hunt?" Rhaegar murmured as he faced the massive dragon''s head, his hands gently rubbing its rough scales.


    The Cannibal''s green vertical pupils closed, and its broad, pitch-ck wings stretched out, casting shadows that covered hundreds of meters in the sunlight. The dragon continued to feign sleep, its skin wound from broken scales nearly healed, and the bone fracture in its left wing almost mended.


    The Smoking Sea Wild Dragon had proven formidable, with superior dragonfire and impressive flight speed. Its massive head and fang-filled mouth were deadly.


    A sudden gust from the dragon''s wings knocked Rhaegar off his feet, sending him sprawling. Rolling his eyes, hey on his back, observing the fearsome ck dragon. Its head alone wasrger than a house, and its thick neck, seven to eight meters in diameter, was covered in steel-like scales.


    The dragon''s body was far toorge to fit in the vestibule of an ordinary castle and Its wingspan seemed to blot out the sun when it flew.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal''s green pupils snapped open as it rose to its feet, wings supporting its massive body. A low warning growl escaped its throat. Rhaegar turned to see Tormund, d in ck and white robes, leading a team of Dragonkeepers carrying a three-meter-tall bronze statue.


    The statue depicted apassionate woman, the Mother, one of the Seven Gods. Rhaegar couldn''t help but smile. Priests from Harrenhal had repeatedly begged for a bronze statue of the Mother, and now one had been sent to him.


    The Dragonkeepers set the statue down, and Rhaegar examined it closely. The ancient carving process was evident, the surface coated with a greenishyer of oxidation that obscured the original bronze and gold color.


    As he touched it, a system beep sounded in his ear: "This exploration mission is open, the target is the Ancient Bronze Statue of the Mother Above."


    Rhaegar spread a smile and opened the explorer panel.


    [Ancient Bronze of the Mother Above]


    Exploration progress: 0.3%


    "Another relic," Rhaegar thought. "I wonder what treasures there are to explore."


    "Leave the statue here on the cliff for now," he instructed. "I will spend the night with the Cannibal."


    "Yes, Prince," the Dragonkeepers responded respectfully before departing.


    Rhaegar sat cross-legged, leaning against the statue of the Mother as his exploration progress continued to rise. He didn''t want to bring unknown artifacts into the Stone Drum Tower. Besides, there were other reasons.


    "Rhaenyra is so intense," he muttered, holding his forehead. Grand Maester Orwyle had mentioned that a woman''s desires might increase during pregnancy. Since the ceremony, Rhaenyra had sought hispany for three consecutive nights. Fearing for her condition, he had to be gentle, but holding back left him exhausted.


    If he didn''t take a break, the dark circles under his eyes would return.


    "Prince, Syrio delivered news about Pentos and Braavos," Tormund said, handing him a letter.


    Rhaegar read the letter, his expression growing serious.


    The first sentence read: The Smoking Sea Wild Dragon appeared in the Lyseni waters, and the fishermen imed that the dragon''s blood scalded the fish and shrimp in the sea.

 Chapter 355: Suspected Lost Dragon Eggs

    Chapter 355: Suspected Lost Dragon Eggs


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed, his grip on the letter tightening involuntarily.


    "Prince, this is troubling news. We should have been better prepared," Tormund suggested softly.


    Rhaegar quicklyposed himself. "Tell Syrio to keep a close watch on the movements of the Triarchy. We can''t afford to miss anything."


    His immediate instinct was to mount Cannibal and head straight for the Summer Sea in search of the wild dragon. But he knew that was impractical. A wounded dragon could be hiding anywhere, and his chances of finding it were slim. Moreover, arriving with a dragon would only draw unnecessary attention and alert everyone in the region to his presence.


    Tormund nodded, his tone serious. "Prince, this is only one part of the troubling news."


    Rhaegar continued to read the letter.


    "Prince Qoren''s eldest daughter, Aliandra Martell, is engaged to the youngest son of the Sealord of Braavos..."


    "Sunspear is purchasing armaments and equipment from Braavos and Qohor inrge quantities..."


    Rhaegar read on, a cold smile forming at the corners of his mouth. Dorn''s ruler was truly cunning, marrying his daughter to the Sealord''s son to bolster Dorne''s military strength.


    Tormund, his head bowed, produced another letter from his pocket. Hesitantly, he said, "Our spies in Sunspear report that Prince Qoren used threerge ships to transport aplete dragon skeleton as a gift to the Sealord of Braavos."


    "Dragon bones!" Rhaegar eximed, his eyes widening. "Could it be the remains of Meraxes?"


    During the First Dornish War, Aegon the Conqueror''s sister and queen, Rhaenys Targaryen, was killed in battle. She and her dragon, Meraxes, had been attacking Hellholt in the heart of Dorne.


    During the battle, Meraxes flew too low and was struck in the eye by a scorpion bolt, crashing to her death. On the eve of the truce between Targaryen and Dorne, the Dornish envoys had returned Meraxes'' skull to Aegon as a gesture of goodwill. To this day, Meraxes'' skull remained in the Red Keep.


    Tormund nodded. "It''s almost certain that these are the remains of Meraxes. Despite missing the skull, the skeleton still measures a massive eighty meters."


    "Worthy of being one of the family''s original three dragons. Meraxes even surpassed Vhagar in size," Rhaegar sighed, feeling a pang of pity.


    In the records, Meraxes had a noble lineage, featuring striking golden vertical pupils and bright silver scales,bined with a fierce yet loyal temperament.


    As his thoughts raced, Rhaegar felt a growing sense of unease. "What is the Sealord of Braavos doing with the remains of a dragon?" he wondered aloud.


    Dragon remains, whether living or dead, were incredibly valuable. Even dragon feces could be transformed into ck dragonstones through blood sorcery, let alone the remains of an adult dragon.


    "I suspect the Sealord of Braavos has ulterior motives," Tormund said thoughtfully, handing Rhaegar the letter and pointing to thest line. "The previous Sealord of Braavos was assassinated ten years ago, and a close associate hinted that he had hidden treasures of great value."


    "This man once sought an alliance with House Vryon by marrying his only son to Lady Laena, fostering close ties between the two houses."


    "The current Sealord of Braavos was one of his trusted vassals and is rumored to have inherited many of his legacies."


    Rhaegar listened intently, his mind racing. He had heard many tales about thest Sealord of Braavos��a wealthy, generous, yet capricious magnate.


    When Rhaegar was born, his mother, Queen Aemma, died in childbirth, leaving him frail and in aa for three years. Initially, the Sea Snake Corlys suggested his father, Viserys, marry again and offered his 12-year-old daughter, Laena, as a prospective queen.


    Viserys, however, did not favor the young Laena and feared marrying into the already powerful Vryon House, which could furtherplicate his rule with overbearing inws. Humiliated by the rejection, the Sea Snake Corlys angrily withdrew from the Small Council.


    The former Sealord of Braavos, sensing an opportunity, arranged for his only son to marry Laena, forging a political alliance. After the Sealord died in an ident, his son did not seek revenge but instead stayed on Driftmark Ind for sustenance.


    Daemon and Laena spent time together, eventually leading to a duel where Daemon killed Laena��s suitor, ending the farce.


    Rhaegar��s eyes widened as he connected the dots. "The marriage with House Vryon was for dragons!"


    During that period, the Targaryens were vulnerable. Rhaegar was a frail infant, and several of Aegon��s younger siblings were still in their wombs. Only Daemon, exiled to the Vale, and an eight-year-old Rhaenyra, who rode a young Syrax, could be considered dragonlords.


    In contrast, House Vryon had three dragons: Vhagar, Meleys, and Seasmoke. Viserys could hardly sleep, fearing that Sea Snake Corlys might lead a fleet of ships and dragons to seize King��s Landing.


    Understanding dawned on Rhaegar. "The Sealord sought to strengthen his position through dragons."


    Tormund nodded. "Rumor has it that the three dragon eggs lost from Dreamfyre were acquired by the former Sealord of Braavos. King Jaehaerys was unable to retrieve them."


    "The treasures amassed by the previous Sealord might include those dragon eggs."


    "And that''s why he was assassinated, leaving the current Sealord to benefit."


    Rhaegar''s brows knitted together. "Can you determine the current Sealord��s purpose for collecting the dragon��s remains?"


    "We''re investigating," Tormund replied. "He has disyed the remains publicly. It��s unclear whether he intends to keep them as a collection or if it��s a cover for something else."


    "Investigate thoroughly," Rhaegar ordered sharply. "The dragon eggs must not fall into anyone else''s hands."


    At the very least, the eggs must remain unhatched, ensuring they pose no threat.


    Tormund bowed his head. "I will do my best, Prince."


    ...


    Three dayster, banquets continued to be held daily in the Stone Drum Tower, entertaining the guests from Pentos and discussing the elements of the alliance between the Iron Throne and Pentos. Daemon was particrly active, constantly persuading his brother, King Viserys, to support the alliance.


    Outside the Stone Drum Tower, on the cliffs overlooking the sea, Rhaegar leaned against a bronze statue of the Mother. He held a dragonss candle in his hand, his eyes closed in concentration. He wasn''t praying, but rather testing thetest blood sorcery he had discovered.


    The Explorer System panel documented this blood sorcery:


    [Bloodmage''s Secret Candle]


    Exploration Progress: 100%


    "Explorationplete. Please retrieve the lost treasure."


    "Retrieval sessful. Detecting..."


    "Detection sessful. Determined to be an epic-level relic: Bloodmage''s Treasure."


    After a brief pause, the text on the panel changed slightly.


    "Congrattions, the Bloodmage''s Treasure has been activated. You have obtained..."


    [Reflection of the Moon]


    Grade: Epic (Purple)


    Function: To be used with ss candles, enhancing the greatness of the bloodline and gaining insight into the hidden secrets of all things in the world.


    The sinct description exined the approximate ability of this blood sorcery. Rhaegar calmed himself and skillfully used his mind to activate the [Reflection of the Moon].


    Zira!


    With a surge of magic, the transparent ss candle lit up, a tiny orange me flickering within. Rhaegar slowly opened his eyes, focusing on the delicate me.


    Buzz��


    A buzzing filled his head, and the image before him began to shift and swirl. The greenwn beneath his feet vanished, reced by an all-epassing perspective simr to a dreamscape.


    The sky above was a brilliant blue, dotted with white clouds. His vision plunged into the vast ocean below, revealing an endless expanse of water with a few small ck dots resembling isted inds.


    "Where is this?" Rhaegar wondered.


    Before he could limate to this new perspective, his vision elerated, moving at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye. He traversed the vast ocean, and a lush, primordial jungle came into view.


    With the [Reflection of the Moon]guiding him, Rhaegar looked down on the world from an unfamiliar vantage point, the scene shifting in response to his thoughts.


    A crisp deer call rang out, and a small, agile deer emerged from the jungle and made its way to a meandering stream to drink. The water was crystal clear, the silt interspersed with pebbles, and fish, shrimp, and river crayfish were faintly visible.


    Rhaegar, watching from a distance, froze and wondered, "This feels so real, almost like I''ve seen it before."


    Suddenly, the viewpoint shifted again, moving uncontrobly. At the edge of the vast jungle, an uninhabited mountain range blocked any further expansion of the jungle.


    A sharp, squealing roar shattered the silence as a colorful dragon-like creature emerged from a valley, its narrow wings pping as it soared into the air. Rhaegar''s heart skipped a beat, thinking it might be a wild dragon.


    The creature dove into the dense jungle and emerged with a squealing, red-haired monkey in its sharp ws. It was only then that Rhaegar got a full look at the creature.


    It looked 80% dragon, with a bloody mouth full of fangs, bat-like wings, and long, sharp ws on its lower limbs. Its body was covered in turquoise scales with white stripes.


    However, there were key differences: its pointed, thin headcked dragon horns or a crown of horns, it didn''t breathe fire, and its body was only twenty feet long, simr to a juvenile dragon.


    "This is not a real dragon," Rhaegar realized. After a moment''s thought, he identified the creature. "A creature that looks like a dragon, or more urately, a Wyvern."


    As his thoughts raced, he suddenly eximed, "This is the Continent of Sothoryos!"


    During his great-grandfather Jaehaerys'' time, his Hand of the King, Septon Barth, had written a ssic book, "Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History," documenting the Wyverns of the distant and unexplored continent of Sothoryos.


    Another sharp roar echoed as a muchrger brindled Wyvern, about thirty feet long, soared out of the valley. It immediately attacked the first Wyvern, trying to steal its prey. The two creatures fought fiercely, their fangs and ws tearing at each other with ferocity.


    Rhaegar watched their battle, noting their low intelligence and aggressive nature. He remembered Septon Barth''s writings, which mentioned several species of Wyverns. The brindled wyverns was the mostmon, growing up to thirty feet in length and more ferocious than dragons.


    The Citadel of Dragonstone also had statues of wyverns, and other creatures.


    Buzz��


    Suddenly, Rhaegar''s vision blurred, and the image disappeared. When he opened his eyes again, the me of the transparent candle had gone out. He shook his head, realizing that the magic in his blood was nearly depleted.


    "Not enough magic," he muttered, regaining his senses.


    Holding the clear ss candle, he marveled at the treacherous nature of blood sorcery. It could show someone ces thousands of miles away through a small dragonss candle.


    Pinching his brow, Rhaegar reflected, "The vision isn''t well controlled. The farther the distance, the greater the magic consumption."

 Chapter 356: Cannibal’s Reinforcement

    Chapter 356: Cannibal��s Reinforcement


    A sudden cold touch startled Rhaegar out of his thoughts.


    "Hisss..." he shivered involuntarily.


    Looking down, he saw the culprit looking up at him innocently. Hena, resting on his legs, had a small, chubby hand shamelessly buried in his shirt.


    Wearing only a white shirt with slightly spaced buttons, she had taken advantage of the gap to slip her hand inside.


    "Hena, who told you to poke around like that?" Rhaegar frowned.


    "Brother..." Hena''s expression was all innocence, hoping to get away with it.


    "Take your hand out!"


    Rhaegar didn''t indulge her. He grabbed her pink and white ear and lifted her up.


    Hena''s face crumpled in displeasure and she quickly withdrew her small hand and scrambled to her feet.


    Rhaegar gave her a stern look and straightened his rumpled shirt.


    The third drawback of [Reflections of the Moon], he mused, was that the immersive view ignored some senses, leaving one vulnerable to sneak attacks.


    "Brother, sister told me to bring you back."


    Hena''s head dropped, her pleated skirt brushing the grass, revealing half of her gleaming white calves.


    Rhaegar remained silent, looking at her skeptically. He could still feel the sting of her earlier pinch.


    Hena nced up at him, herrge light purple eyes twinkling mischievously.


    Smack...


    Rhaegar raised his hand and pped her lightly on the head. "Concentrate on proper things."


    Hena winced and covered her reddened head without saying a word.


    Ignoring her, Rhaegar put down the dragonss candle and stood to survey the area.


    Not far away, a simple tent was aze, the mes of a campfire roaring inside.


    Rhaegar''s mouth twitched. "How ruthless!"


    Hena climbed to her feet and muttered, "Sister told me to burn it. She said you should take your time camping since you like so much."


    Rhaegar sighed, epting his sisters'' entricities.


    "Roar..."


    A deep dragon roar echoed, vibrating with a surge of life and energy.


    Boom!


    In an instant, ghostly green dragonfire erupted from the ground, rolling like a torrent straight into the sky. The surrounding air became scorching hot.


    Rhaegar quickly pulled Hena back, his eyes wide with astonishment.


    At the edge of the cliff, a ck dragon roared skyward, its massive wings spreading wide as it unleashed a torrent of green dragonfire.


    The dragonfire was relentless, a volcanic eruption that cascaded down onto the beach below, igniting the gravel with a fierce green ze.


    "Cannibal!"


    Rhaegar breathed in sharply, his shout filled with excitement.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared fiercely, its pitch-ck wings spread wide, its sharp hind ws taking powerful strides as its massive body leapt into the air.


    As it charged headlong into the spectral green dragonfire, Cannibal''s green vertical pupils shed with hostility. It rose vertically into the thickyer of cloud.


    Momentster.


    Boom...


    An ethereal green firework exploded, and the clouds stretched for miles, quickly dissipating as if swept away by a storm, clearing the sky.


    "Brother."


    Hena let out a soft cry, her hands wrapped around Rhaegar''s waist as she looked up, her eyes alight with wonder.


    "Don''t be afraid, it''s celebrating," Rhaegar reassured her, his voice strong and filled with joy.


    He understood what was happening with Cannibal.


    ncing at the bronze statue of the Mother standing on thewn, Rhaegar smiled and summoned the explorer panel.


    [Ancient Bronze of the Mother Above]


    Exploration Progress: 100%


    "This exploration isplete. Please collect the lost treasures."


    "Treasure collected sessfully, detection in progress..."


    "Detectionplete, item identified as an epic relic, Blessing of the Mother."


    At this point, a pink wreath appeared on the panel, apanied by the relic''s activation conditions.


    Note: "Unwavering Will."


    Rhaegar had no immediate use for it, so he chose to bestow the blessing on Cannibal.


    Having failed to capture the wild dragon of the Smoking Sea, Cannibal''s frustration triggered the relic.


    "Congrattions, the Blessing of the Mother has been activated. You have gained..."


    [Toughness]


    Quality: Legendary (Red)


    Effect: "The power of resilience acts not only mentally but also physically."


    Evaluation: "A remarkable enhancement."


    In the sky, Cannibal''s gaunt body flipped over, its wings pping at extreme speed as it sprayed Dragonfire in a cathartic release.


    When the Dragonfire formed a huge ghostly green sun, Cannibal plunged headfirst into it.


    Boom...


    Cannibal dispersed the monstrous Dragonfire in a single move, its pitch-ck scales glistening with a cold, ebony light. After shedding its damaged scales a few days ago, new ones had grown on its neck, chest, and abdomen, hardening and thickening with the boiling dragon blood coursing through its veins.


    From a distance on the cliff, Rhaegar watched Cannibal, feeling the dragon''s strength. Their minds intertwined,municating without words.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal turned its head, swooping down andnding steadily on the cliff bank, its green vertical pupils locking onto Rhaegar with a manic intensity.


    "Hena, go back to the castle," Rhaegar instructed, breaking away from her embrace and rushing to the dragon''s side.


    Nimbly climbing onto Cannibal''s back, he settled into the saddle and shouted excitedly, "Cannibal, fly!"


    "Roar..."


    With a powerful roar, Cannibal lifted off, its wings cutting through the air as it swooped down towards the sea, its chest skimming the water''s surface.


    "Hahaha, you''re faster than ever!" Rhaegarughed joyfully, letting go of the reins to fully enjoy the weightlessness of flight and the rushing sea breeze.


    The [Blessing of the Mother] had not gone to waste. Following the [Life Essence], Cannibal had once again been strengthened, this time in its scales.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal spat a mouthful of ethereal green Dragonfire, pping its wings rapidly as it soared through the wide throat channel. It believed the failed hunt was due to its scales not being hard enough, which had allowed the Smoking Sea Wild Dragon to bite its left wing. Now, with its new scales, Cannibal felt invincible.


    After a long flight, one man and one dragon returned to Dragonstone Ind by noon.


    Boom...


    Cannibal''s pitch-ck wings pped slowly as itnded on the cliff bank, its massive body prostrate on the ground. Rhaegar slid off the dragon''s back and quickly approached its head.


    Whew! Whew!


    Cannibaly on thewn, panting heavily, sticky saliva dripping from its jaws. It was ravenously hungry, craving fresh, magical blood and flesh to replenish the life energy consumed during its transformation.


    Sensing its thoughts, Rhaegar stroked Cannibal''s muzzle and murmured, "Cannibal, hold on a bit longer. I know where to find the food you need."


    Wyverns were also dragons. Even without Dragonfire, they were more than ordinary animals, belonging to a low-level magical creature category. A trip to Sothoryos to find such prey was a small price to pay for Cannibal''s sessful transformation.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal''s throat rumbled, exhausted from the earlier Dragonfire, its eyes closing in feigned sleep.


    The transformation wasplete, but it needed to replenish its energy. Dragonstone Ind offered little nourishment except for many of its kinds.


    Rhaegar patted Cannibal reassuringly and returned to the Stone Drum Tower. Before leaving, he instructed the patrolling Dragonkeepers to send a herd of cows and sheep to Cannibal to sate its hunger.


    ...


    Stone Drum Tower, Chamber of the Painted Table


    The Chamber of the Painted Table, located on the top floor of the Stone Drum Tower, was a circr chamber with tall, narrow windows facing each of the cardinal directions. At the center of the room stood a long, dragonstone table.


    This table, fifty feet long and half as wide at its widest point, dominated one-fifth of the room. Carved into its surface was an intricate map of Westeros, with mountains, rivers, and cities meticulously sculpted by skilled craftsmen.


    This giant sand table wasmissioned by Aegon the Conqueror, who had ridden Balerion the ck Dread across the continent, recording every detail for his campaign of unification.


    "Daemon, I have already agreed to ally with Pentos. You should be satisfied!" Viserys'' voice,den with suppressed anger, echoed through the hall.


    He sat at one end of the table, gripping a dragonstone sculpture, his face a mask of somber frustration. Opposite him, Daemon lounged, his elbows on the tabletop, fingers inteced as he spoke.


    "Sooner orter, we will have to confront the Three Daughters. You must understand the necessity of striking first."


    "I will not repeat myself a third time. I will not allow you to start a war for your own selfish desires!" Viserys retorted, ring at his brother.


    War would be a disaster for the realm. Daemon and the Sea Snake Corlys would drag House Targaryen into an abyss.


    Undeterred, Daemon pressed on, "Patrol ships from the Triarchy have been sighted near the Stepstones. They are already preparing for war."


    "So what!?" Viserys mmed his hands on the table, unable to contain his anger. "If war breaks out, the entire kingdom will be consumed in a fight against the Triarchy. And if by some miracle we win, should I grant you the Stepstones as your fief?"


    He continued, his voice rising, "And what of Myr and Tyrosh? Should I also grant fiefs to the Sea Snake and Rhaenys, allowing all of you to break away from the Iron Throne and rule as kings?"


    Viserys'' memories of Daemon and Corlys waging the first Stepstones War without his consent were still fresh. After his victory, Daemon had dered himself "King of the Narrow Sea" and donned a crown of driftwood. If not for the barren nature of the inds, Daemon might never have returned to King''s Landing.


    Daemon''s gaze hardened, and he fell silent, absorbing his brother''s words.


    At the Same Time


    Rhaegar ascended to the top floor of the Stone Drum Tower, signaling to Erryk and Arryk, who were guarding the entrance to the Chamber of the Painted Table, to be silent and listen to the argument inside.


    When he returned to the tower, he had overheard his father and uncle talking privately, prompting him to investigate.


    The hall fell silent.


    Rhaegar''s eyes flickered as he surveyed the Dragonstone corridor, considering entering to see what was happening. In truth, he did not support the invasion of the Triarchy, especially to grant Daemon a fiefdom.


    "Prince, news from Vntis!" Tormund''s face was worried, his shoulders bare of the usual White Falcon and Raven, as he hurried over with a letter in his hand.


    Rhaegar turned, sensing the urgency, and took the letter. It was from Syrio, sent by raven.


    The letter, written in hasty script, got right to the point:


    [The Smoking Sea dragon was caught alive in a trap and has fallen into the hands of a Magister of Lys, Bambarro Bazanne.]


    After reading the first sentence, Rhaegar fell silent, his eyes growing cold and distant. He took a deep breath, suppressing his emotions.


    Without a word, Rhaegar pushed past the Cargyll brothers and stormed into the Chamber of the Painted Table.


    Inside, Viserys and Daemon were locked in a tense standoff across the table, the atmosphere thick with unspoken conflict.


    Rhaegar''s sudden and forceful entrance immediately caught their attention.


    "Rhaegar..." Viserys began, surprised at his son''s boldness.


    The Daemon''s eyes narrowed and fixed on his nephew.


    Ignoring their reactions, Rhaegar''s expression was as cold as winter.


    He mmed the letter down on the table, then tilted his head back and closed his eyes. In a solemn voice he dered, "No need to argue. Prepare for war!"

 Chapter 357: There Can Only be One Dragonlord House in the World!

    Chapter 357: There Can Only be One Dragonlord House in the World!


    At noon, the sun zed high in the sky, casting bright light through the tall, narrow windows of the Chamber of the Painted Table. Despite the sunlight, the air inside remained cold and tense.


    The circr chamber was filled with figures standing around the sandstone table. Rhaegar stood off to one side, his hands resting on the stone tabletop, his eyes scanning the room.


    Corlys the Sea Snake, Rhaenys, Laena, Aegon...


    Lyonel, Otto, Laenor...


    It was an impromptu council that included every significant member bearing the Targaryen and Vryon surnames. From King Viserys down to young Daeron huddled by Alicent''s leg, everyone was involved.


    Rhaegar''s mission was clear: to inform those present of the looming war.


    mming his palm on the table, Rhaegar''s face remained stern as he began, "My lords, silence won''t solve our problem. We must discuss how to reim that wild dragon!"


    A wild dragon must not fall into the hands of outsiders, especially since the Smoking Sea wild dragon was still heavily injured from its encounter with Cannibal. Rhaegar felt partially responsible for its capture.


    "Prince, with all due respect, you know they will not hand over any dragon, nor will they return one to us," Corlys spoke sharply, his head held high. "Lys hunting wild dragons is a direct provocation to House Targaryen. War is inevitable."


    "I agree," Daemon chimed in, firmly supporting the sentiment.


    The two were eager for war, a desire that had been simmering for a long time. Rhaegar nced at them, his cold eyes unreadable. Though he did not want to fuel their ambitions, the prelude to war had already begun.


    The rest of the Small Council members were silent, deep in thought. They were all weighing the sacrifices that war would bring. Even King Viserys, seated at the head of the table, looked grim as he repeatedly examined the letter in his hand.


    The letter was clear: the Smoking Sea wild dragon had been seriously injured and strayed to a deserted ind in the Summer Sea. A group of mercenaries found it and used livestock to lower its guard. While the dragon was resting, they used chains and human lives to capture it alive, selling it to the Magister of Lys, Bambarro Bazanne.


    Seeing his father''s silence, Rhaegar frowned and spoke directly, "Father, you are the King of the Seven Kingdoms and the head of House Targaryen. The decision muste from you."


    As the Heir Prince, Rhaegar knew that his authority was limited until Viserys made the final decision.


    Viserys, restraining his anger, let reason prevail. "Once war starts, many will suffer. We should try to find a way to reconcile first."


    "Your Grace, the only ones who will be devastated are the Triarchy. Seeking peace is nothing but a child''s trick," Corlys retorted with disdain.


    Lys had already captured a wild dragon, and regardless of whether anyone in the Triarchy could tame it, the threat was real. Viserys clenched the letter, his anger barely contained, crumpling the paper in his fist.


    Otto watched the scene unfold and spoke in defense, "Lord Sea Snake, His Grace is considering the peace of the kingdom. We should at least intercede with the Triarchy and demand the return of the wild dragon."


    "Whimsical," Daemon sneered.


    Lyonel stepped forward, ying his role as the Hand of the King, and said solemnly, "Your Grace, the Triarchy is ambitious. They likely captured the wild dragon with the intention of keeping it for themselves."


    "What do you mean?" Viserys hesitated.


    Lyonel nced over the bickering parties and said rationally, "We should prepare for war, but also send envoys to negotiate with the Triarchy to test their intentions."


    In short, one sentence: first diplomacy, then war.


    Daemon was reluctant, retorting, "This is a waste of time. We should immediately send warships and dragons to attack Lys and settle this quickly."


    Tormund interjected, "As far as I know, the Triarchy has constructed no fewer than a hundred watchtowers equipped with scorpion crossbows in every city-state, specifically to guard against dragon raids."


    No one was foolish; having suffered losses before, they had fortified their defenses.


    Rhaegar added, "Braavos and Dorne are both heavily connected to the Triarchy. If we venture into war, we could face resistance from the entire Free Cities and Dorne."


    Three years ago, Rhaegar and his dragon Cannibal burned the city-states of the Triarchy. The remaining Free Cities had resisted strongly, unwilling to face another dragon invasion like the days of the Freehold.


    Daemon looked him up and down and said sarcastically, "Have you ever seen a city-state retaliate against us? We have our own allies."


    Tormundughed and turned to the king, saying sincerely, "Your Grace, dealing with the Triarchy is optional, but reaching out to the other Free Cities with a warning is necessary."


    Viserys clenched his teeth, his face tense. "Rhaegar, what do you think should be done?"


    The opinions of his advisers were united, and as king, he could not afford to appear weak.


    Rhaegar had been waiting for this moment and spoke solemnly, "Father, sending envoys to negotiate with the Triarchy is fine, but we must prepare for war and be ready to strike at any moment."


    The Smoking Sea wild dragon had fallen into the hands of Lys. The Free Cities were not without the remnants of Dragonlord families, and idents could happen.


    Rhaegar looked around the room, his eyes sweeping over Daemon, Aegon, and Aemond. Every dragon rider present was in his sights.


    His gaze was icy as he dered, "No matter what, there can only be one Dragonlord House in the world!"


    ...


    Two dayster...


    The Summer Sea stretched wide and boundless under a zing sun.


    "Roar--"


    A behemoth as ck as coal crashed through a mass of white clouds, its hideous, hideous dragon''s head emitting a fierce roar.


    Rhaegar, d in ck robes, sat in the saddle on the dragon''s back, his silver hair fluttering in the wind. It was nearly noon, and the climate was sultry.


    He looked down at the sea below and spotted an ind in the distance, its greenery vivid against the horizon.


    After flying in that direction for a while, the jungle-covered continent came into view below him.


    "Sothoryos, finally here," Rhaegar''s eyes brightened slightly.


    With his father in charge on Dragonstone Ind, aided by a group of royal advisers, there was no need for him to stay on the ind at all times. War was imminent, and he couldn''t let Cannibal suffer hunger on the battlefield. He hade to this uninhabited continent to hunt wyverns.


    During his flight, he had ridden his dragon to scout the garrison of Lys from high above. There were numerous patrol ships at sea and hundreds of watchtowers within the city-state, each equipped with multiple scorpion crossbows.


    The density of the scorpion crossbows made a low-altitude dragonfire attack risky; a giant dragon could be shot in the eye. Young dragons like Sunfyre or Sea Smoke, who had not long reached adulthood, were particrly vulnerable. An air attack was not feasible; a simultaneous assault by dragon and fleet was the best strategy.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal gave a low roar, its figure lowering sharply, swooping and gliding over the dense jungle, its vertical pupils locked on a lofty mountain in the distance.


    Rhaegarughed and asked, "Cannibal, you''ve been here before, haven''t you?"


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal''s green vertical pupil shed with a touch of loneliness as its speed increased, answering with its actions.


    Momentster, dragon and rider passed through the jungle, bypassing the high mountains that obstructed their view.


    Rhaegar observed the surroundings, sensing the emotions conveyed by Cannibal. There was no suitable prey in this part of the world; the wyverns they sought were deeper within the continent.


    Time passed, and soon, the sun set. Neither Rhaegar nor Cannibal chose to travel by night. After soaring for an entire day, they needed to recover their strength.


    Below themy a primitive jungle, with small streams irregrly distributed and miasma-surrounded swamps. Cannibal, with night vision, picked a dry patch of woond and jetted a mouthful of ethereal green dragonfire.


    Boom--


    Arge swath of woods incinerated, turning to ash under the Dragonfire.


    Cannibalnded slowly, its ck wings beating out the remaining mes. The dragon prostrated itself on the ground as if it were second nature.


    Cannibal had traveled across several continents and seen far more than most dragons, or even humans.


    Rhaegar slid off the dragon''s back, pulled dry food from his space bracelet to satisfy his hunger, and set up an improvised tent.


    He was used to Cannibal''s wisdom and knew how to make the best of it.


    Late into the night...


    Dangling! Dangling!


    Rhaegar, sound asleep in his tent, was jolted awake by a cacophony of sounds.


    "Squeak..."


    A shrill, familiar yet unfamiliar roar pierced the air.


    Rhaegar jerked to his feet in surprise, "A wyvern!"


    Stepping out of his cramped tent, he saw a flicker of firelight in the jungle a mile away.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal was also startled, lifting its head high. Its green vertical pupils, like two ghostly mes, gazed at the disturbance.


    Whoosh--


    A grayish dragon shadow shed over the jungle, chasing its prey.


    "Cannibal, let''s go check it out."


    Rhaegar nimbly climbed onto the dragon''s back, eyes burning with anticipation to see the wyvern.


    Under the moonlight, the wyvern appeared sizable, at least forty feet long,rger than the usual brindled wyverns.


    "Roar..."


    The voracious Cannibal roared manically, its muzzle grinning in a ferocious arc. It pped its wide wings and rose into the air.


    It was starving, and the prey was practically feeding itself.


    The wyvern, unaware it was being targeted by the formidable Cannibal, roared madly, swooping low to the ground, attacking with fangs and sharp ws.


    "Dracarys!"


    Rhaegar''s gaze was cold as hemanded in High Valyrian.


    Boom--


    Green Dragonfire shot out, striking the erratically fluttering wyvern below.


    "Squeak..."


    The wyvern screamed, its spine instantly burned through with arge hole. It died after two feeble ps of its wings.


    Cannibal swooped down,nding on the ground, its feet crushing a swath of forest. It impatiently tore into the flesh and blood of its prey.


    Rhaegar examined the wyvern. Its body was covered in gray scales, with green moss growing in the crevices, emanating an earthy smell.


    It was likely a swamp wyvern, a species that thrived in swamps.


    Beneath the wyvern''s carcassy severalrge savages with pigmented skin.


    Rhaegar looked up and saw other wildlings fleeing through the jungle, holding torches and screaming in terror.


    He remembered a bit of history about the continent of Sothoryos. The natives were strong like wild beasts, with skin patterns of white and brown. Women could not reproduce with males outside their race; all births were stillborn or inhuman deformities.


    During the Freehold era, powerful Dragonlord families established colonies on the Basilisk Point. They abandoned thend after repeated destruction by the natives.


    Cannibal, having devoured most of the wyvern, crunched through its neck and tail, swallowing it whole.


    Sniffing around, Cannibal''s green vertical pupils locked onto a piece of swampynd.


    "Roar..."


    With a low growl, Cannibal pped its wings, soaring into the sky, heading straight for the swamp.


    Through the scent of the wyvern it had eaten, Cannibal had detected a simr smell of dragon eggs.

 Chapter 358: Three Hundred Meter Giant Dragon Remains

    Chapter 358: Three Hundred Meter Giant Dragon Remains


    The following day, the weather was clear.


    Sothoryos, somewhere in the barren canyon of the Green Hell.


    A dragon, ck as charcoal, let out a low roar and pped its wide wings as it swooped over the canyon, teasingly chasing its prey.


    Two thirty-foot green and white striped wyverns roared in panic and scurried away like headless flies. But they were no match for therger dragon in speed and size.


    Stab!


    Cannibal''s green eyes gleamed with predatory hunger as he opened his mouth and bit down on one of the wyverns. Its sharp fangs closed violently, ripping the creature apart in an instant.


    Blood spilled from the sky as Cannibal held its head high and chewed a few times before swallowing the wyvern whole. It was the size of a full-grown dragon.


    As it pped its wings again, Cannibal''s massive body cast a shadow over most of the canyon, including the other fleeing wyvern.


    "Squeak..."


    The sunlight above was blocked, and the wyvern roared in terror as a huge dragon w, ck as steel, fell mercilessly overhead.


    The wyvern''s small body was like a chicken caught in the dragon''s w. In the next second, with a sickening crunch, the entire wyvern was crushed. Its entrails flew into the air, leaving only its slender neck and wings dangling helplessly.


    It fell to the ground with a thud, reduced to a mere snack.


    ...


    Inside the canyon, before a deep cave.


    Rhaegar stood with his head tilted, silver hair cascading over his shoulders, his tight ck robe pping in the wind.


    With a swift motion, he yanked ance from the ground, blood sttering around him. At his feety a twenty-foot swamp wyvern, its spiky head punctured by thence, while the Valyrian Steel Sword��Truefyre ��remained lodged in its spine.


    "That creature was tough," Rhaegar muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. "It didn''t seem to feel any pain. It was almost impossible to bring it down without hitting its vitals."


    He pulled the Valyrian Steel Lance Dawn from his space bracelet and shook off the blood with a flourish before returning it to its ce. Thence proved more effective againstrge beasts.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared,nding nearby as Rhaegar retrieved Truefyre. The hungry dragon did not wait for its rider''s signal. It stretched its neck and swallowed the wyvern''s carcass in one gulp, chewing briefly before swallowing.


    "Oh, you were really hungry!" Rhaegar chuckled, his eyes scanning the rocky canyon floor. The ground was littered with skeletons - boars, monkeys, and even natives. The three dead wyverns had been the dominant predators here.


    They showed some pack behavior, but often fought among themselves - a trait of mindless beasts.


    "Cannibal, let''s go."


    Rhaegar climbed onto the dragon''s back, securing a bulging pouch to the saddle.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal, his mouth smeared with blood, looked back at Rhaegar, his green pupils shing with a hint of dissatisfaction.


    Ignoring the dragon''s mood, Rhaegar opened the sack and pulled out a grayish-white wyvern egg. It was about the size of a dragon''s egg, butcked the dragon''s scale-like shell.


    It was one of the wyvern eggs, two in all, taken from the deep cave. The sack also contained three light green wyvern eggs collected from the swamp the night before.


    The swamp wyverns were solitary creatures, and their rarity meant that they did noty many eggs. Rhaegar had found three clutches in the swamp, each containing three eggs. He took the freshest clutch, leaving the rest for Cannibal to devour.


    The brindled wyverns, however, were different. Almost herd animals, three of them had produced only one nest with two eggs. Rhaegar examined the gray and white eggs thoughtfully, pondering aloud, "Can these hatch on their own?"


    The brindled wyvern was a formidable creature, its adult sizeparable to a full-grown dragon. Even without fire-breathing abilities, its fangs and ws made it a destructive force. If it could be tamed...


    Rhaegar shook his head and smiled ruefully. "A beast without intelligence," he mused. "If it could be tamed, the natives would have done so long ago."


    He nced at Cannibal, who was staring hungrily at the gray and white eggs. This sparked a new idea in his mind. "If these can hatch and we can bring a batch back to Westeros, they could serve as excellent training opponents for our dragons."


    Rhaegar''s eyes brightened at the thought. Most of the family''s dragons were kept in captivity from the moment they hatched, fed on cows and sheep. In time, they lost their hunting instincts. Wyverns, fierce andrger than normal flying beasts, would be perfect opponents for young and sub-adult dragons, helping them hone their fighting skills.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal, frustrated by theck of dragon eggs, roared and took off from the canyon, seeking its next hunting ground.


    ...


    It was nearing noon.


    Rhaegar and Cannibal had destroyed three nests of brindled wyverns and continued their search without rest. Cannibal''s green vertical pupils were cold and focused, its hunger eased somewhat. They left the Green Hell region and searched the nearby inds.


    The long-winged dragons in Green Hell had hidden too well, unwilling toe out when they sensed Cannibal''s presence. The inds, however, had arger distribution of wyvern and some rare beasts that were barely edible.


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, Cannibal bared its fangs, sniffing the faint scent of its own kind. Its green eyes locked onto arge, mango-shaped ind.


    Rhaegar sensed the change andmanded, "Cannibal,nd!"


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared and dived, its massive ck body slicing through the jungle canopy of the ind. After a thorough search, it approached a low canyon covered in dense greenery.


    The canyon was adjacent to a short peak. Observing closely, Rhaegar felt a distinct warmth��it seemed to be an active volcano that had been dormant for years.


    "A volcano," Rhaegar murmured.


    Since the eruption of the Fourteen mes in Ancient Valyria, the only known active volcano was Dragonmont on Dragonstone Ind. The underground magma beneath the Isle of Faces was sluggishly developing, barely qualifying as a miniature volcano. Other volcandscapes were exceedingly rare.


    Sensing his rider''s anticipation, Cannibal circled the dormant volcano andnded above the canyon.


    Rhaegar examined the area closely. The volcano was densely covered with green nts, and many birds had nested there, indicating it hadn''t erupted for decades.


    "Roar--"


    A thunderous roar echoed as Cannibal was suddenly stimted by something. Green Dragonfire umted in the depths of its throat.


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened in shock as he looked around.


    Before himy the remains of a colossal dragon.


    The skeleton was pitch ck, crowned with a dense array of horns. A pair of grayish horns extended more than a dozen meters from its head. The canyon, a few hundred meters long and a few dozen meters wide, nestled deep in the forest, was filled with the giant dragon''s remains. Its wing bones jutted out, drooping into the clearing on both sides, spreading hundreds of meters away.


    "Cannibal, get closer," Rhaegar ordered.


    After the initial shock, Rhaegar''s breathing steadied, though his mind raced. Inparison to Cannibal, the dragon remains were about three timesrger. From the enormous dragon head to the thick tail, Rhaegar estimated the dragon had been over three hundred meters long in life, with a wingspan of over six hundred meters.


    "Seven hells! Is this really a dragon?" Rhaegar muttered, waves of terror rising within him.


    Throughout the Targaryen House''s history, thergest dragon had been Balerion the ck Dread. Even at over 200 years old, Balerion, who wasrger than the current Vhagar, did not reach two hundred meters in length.


    Balerion, from the most prosperous noble bloodline of ancient Valyria, was among the top dragons of the 40 Dragonlord families. Yet, the remains before Rhaegar were easily over three hundred meters. The sheer size left him momentarily unable to process the shock.


    "Cannibal, put me down!" Rhaegar ordered, taking several deep breaths to steady himself.


    He had to examine the giant dragon''s remains up close. For one, he wanted to trigger the Explorer��s System. A dragon bigger than Balerion deserved to be considered a relic. Moreover, he was incredulous at the sheer size of this dragon and needed to see it firsthand to believe it.


    Determining the dragon''s age might provide clues as to when it died. If it was more than 200 years old, it must have hatched before the Doom. Given its extraordinary size, it was unlikely to have gone unnoticed by the Dragonlord families. Even if it was a wild dragon, its existence seemed too important to remain hidden.


    ��Roar...��


    Cannibal hesitated, sniffing the air and lowering its head as if searching for something. After a moment, a look of doubt flickered in its green eyes, and its tense body gradually rxed. It seemed to have discovered something that eased its vignce.


    ��Roar...��


    With a dull roar, Cannibal pped its wings and flew towards the canyon,nding in an open space near the dragon��s skull.


    ��Cannibal, stay alert,�� Rhaegar instructed as he slid off the dragon��s back, rushing toward the giant remains.


    The dense vegetation of the canyon intertwined with the dragon''s bones, creating an absurd yet beautiful contrast of life and death. As he drew closer, Rhaegar was struck by the enormity of the skeleton.


    The dragon��s skull was asrge as a small castle, with fangs thicker than his waist. The sheer scale was staggering.


    ��A miracle...�� Rhaegar muttered, reaching out to touch one of the thick dragon teeth.


    Crack-


    The anticipated beep from his Explorer System didn��te. Instead, the crunching sound of bone breaking filled the air.


    Rhaegar froze, pressing on the dragon tooth with more force.


    Thud.


    The massive tooth, once securely attached to the lower jaw, broke free and fell heavily to the grass.


    Rhaegar''s mouth opened slightly, half in shock. He crouched down and examined the junction where the tooth hade loose. It wasn''t weathered or broken; it just came loose.


    A sh of insight struck Rhaegar, and he eximed, "A three-hundred-meter dragon still has its horns?"


    Typically, as dragons aged, their bones and muscles grew, pushing out non-essential structures like horn crowns, dragon horns, and sometimes even scales. Vhagar, at 170 years old, had lost its once-majestic horns, leaving only fine, new ones. This dragon''s horns were intact, and its jaw and neck muscles were ck, hanging loosely.


    Rhaegar''s eyes flickered with uncertainty. He quickly retreated from the dragon��s skull and shouted, "Cannibal!"


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal responded instantly, its massive body turning sharply. With a powerful sweep of its thick, pitch-ck tail, it struck the giant dragon��s skull.


    Boom!


    The impact sent the skull flying, separating it from the spine and smashing it into the canyon wall. In an instant, the skull shattered into pieces, fangs snapping at the roots, and the giant dragon horns snapping off and disintegrating into a pile of bone fragments.


    tter...


    As the bones scattered, Rhaegar��s eyes grew cold with disappointment. "True dragons bones are supposed to be almost indestructible."


    Dragon bones are renowned for their strength, capable of withstanding magma and enduring centuries of weathering while maintaining steel-like hardness. Something was very wrong with these remains.

 Chapter 359: Negotiation With Braavos

    Chapter 359: Negotiation With Braavos


    Testing the oddity of the dragon''s remains, Rhaegar decided to explore the canyon further.


    The canyon was small, dense with shrubs and nts that tripped him up as he moved. After some searching, he discovered a cave nestled beneath the left rib cage of the giant dragon''s remains.


    Clearing the obstructing shrubs with Truefyre, the pitch-ck sword ignited ayer of me, illuminating his way. Wielding Truefyre, Rhaegar cautiously stepped into the cave.


    The cave wasrge and deep, with the asional gust of wind carrying a faint, putrid odor.


    Rhaegar scanned his surroundings, and after walking a dozen meters, he found a pile of stale dragon dung. "It really is a Dragon Nest," he muttered, continuing deeper into the cave.


    Truefyre''s firelight illuminated most of the room. Soon, Rhaegar stumbled upon a concave mess of dragon droppings and rocks, with a pile of broken scales in the middle.


    Pinning Truefyre to the ground, Rhaegar moved closer to examine the mess. "Fossilized dragon eggs!" he eximed as he saw the fragments, each one ancient.


    He pushed the fragments aside, revealing aplete dragon egg with dark red scales, its surface fossilized. The egg had long since be a lifeless stone. "A nest of dragon eggs?" Rhaegar wondered aloud.


    The broken fragments indicated that two dragon eggs had hatched. With difficulty, Rhaegar dug out the fossilized egg embedded in the dung and continued his meticulous search of the cave.


    Considering the remains of the giant dragon outside, this nest of eggs probably belonged to it. The dragon had been dead for at least a hundred years, before the Doom. A wild dragon of this size roaming Sothoryos would not have gone unnoticed by the dragonlord families of ancient Valyria.


    Records indicated that Jaenara Berys, a dragon rider of the House of Berys, had roamed Sothoryos with her dragon for three years. If dragons existed in Sothoryos, the Dragonlord families would have known about it. That left only one possibility: this dragon had a rider, or had had one at some point. For unknown reasons, the dragon hade to Sothoryos, deliberately hidden itself, and disappeared from the eyes of the world.


    Holding the fossilized dragon egg in his hand, Rhaegar walked silently out of the cave.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal''s green vertical pupils watched him, its wings patiently supporting its weight. It sensed its rider''s somber mood.


    Rhaegar exhaled deeply and climbed numbly onto Cannibal''s back. "Fly," hemanded.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal let out a low roar, its pitch-ck wings stretching and pping as it swiftly took to the air.


    There was no need to explore the gorge or the dragon''s remains further.


    Rhaegar discovered vague stone inscriptions on the walls of the cave, written in High Valyrian script. These inscriptions contained the fragmented knowledge of a family of dragonlords, including spections about a dragon''s age and growth cycle based on its size.


    They vaguely outlined the stages of a dragon''s life: young dragons, subadults, adults, and old age. The Dragonlord family had detailed ssifications beyond sub-adults: young dragons, strong dragons, giant dragons, and weakened dragons.


    A dragon egg hatches into a young dragon. When the dragon is about thirty feet tall and about ten years old, it enters the subadult stage. During the subadult stage, whichsts 10-20 years, the dragon grows to about one hundred feet, with scales, ws, and teeth maturing - this is the young dragon stage.


    After another 30 years or so, depending on its talent, it reaches a prime size and bes a prime dragon. At 100 years old, with a body size of about 100 meters, it bes an adult dragon.


    Rhaegar briefly pondered this information,paring it to his own estimations. In his family, Cannibal and Vermithor, both 90 years old, had already exceeded 100 meters, making them proper adult dragons. Dreamfyre and Silverwing were of simr age but slightly smaller. Silverwing, one-fifth smaller than Vermithor, was less than 90 meters. Dreamfyre, the oldest, had been imprisoned in its prime, stunting its growth, and was just over 80 meters. Neither dragon met the adult dragon standard.


    A dragon enters its weakening stage around 150 years old, when size affects strength and speed. Vhagar, still possessing decentbat power, was in this stage.


    Riding on Cannibal''s back, the wind in his face, Rhaegar held the heavy fossilized dragon egg. Besides impractical knowledge, the dragon''sir contained a deliberately destroyed pattern, which Rhaegar couldn''t decipher. However, he noticed subtle symbols on the pattern''s edges, indicating blood sorcery.


    "Cannibal, continue the hunt," Rhaegarmanded, cing the fossilized dragon egg into a sack.


    The remains of the dragon and the unknown blood sorcery were disturbing. Fortunately, the Dragonlord family responsible for these things had been wiped out in the Doom of Valyria. The two hatched dragon eggs had owners, so there was no need to worry about wild dragons roaming thend.


    ...


    Sunrise and sunset passed in a blur, and two days passed quickly.


    On a small ind in the Stepstones, a tense confrontation unfolded.


    "Attack!"


    On the azure sea, several warships flying the banner of the Triarchy, known as the Three Daughters, advanced on a patrol ship flying the Three-Headed Red Dragon g of Westeros.


    The warships were armed with scorpion crossbows, which they fired in rapid session, puncturing the patrol ship''s hull several times.


    As the ships closed in, their ramming horns dug into the hulls and the battle began.


    Above, the sky was clear and calm.


    Suddenly, a ck dragon shadow shed across the sky, churning the wind and clouds with the speed of a shooting star.


    Below, the Triarchy''s warships surrounded the patrol ship, and pirates jumped overboard tounch a ruthless attack.


    "Roar!"


    A deep, thunderous roar echoed like a tidal bell, and the ck dragon dove into the clouds, its terrifying head descending toward the battlefield.


    Boom!


    A ghostly green dragonfire erupted like smoke and fog from the dragon''s mouth, sweeping across the Triarchy''s warships and incinerating their masts and decks in an instant.


    "Ahhh!..."


    The Triarchy pirates had no chance to escape. Their screams were cut short as they were consumed by the mes, reduced to charred remains.


    Some of the unlucky ones were bumped by theirrades, their clothes catching the ghostly green sparks that clung to them like maggots, quickly igniting and burning their flesh.


    On the dragon''s back, a ck-robed young man watched with indifferent eyes, muttering, "Dracarys."


    "Roar..."


    The pitch-ck dragon swooped down, spewing more Dragonfire, turning the sea battle into an inferno of ghostly green mes.


    The patrol ship was destroyed, and its crew lowered small boats to escape to the ind.


    "Prince..."


    The survivors looked up at the dragon and the young man, cheering and shouting as if reborn.


    Rhaegar looked back and rode his dragon in wide circles overhead, making sure no enemies remained.


    Five dayster he returned to Westeros. Sothoryos''s trip had been generous.


    The Cannibal had hunted a dozen wyverns, fully sating its hunger with a satisfying feast. Rhaegar sensed that the dragon beneath him seemed to have grown slightlyrger. The trouble with such a massive creature was that even a small growth was barely noticeable.


    "Roar..."


    As several warships burned and sank into the sea, a sharp, thin dragon roar pierced the air.


    Rhaegar turned to see a scarlet dragon with a serpentine body swooping swiftly toward him.


    Blood Wyrm��Caraxes.


    On the dragon''s back, Daemon, d in ck steel armor, called out, "Rhaegar, back from Sothoryos already?"


    "It was a good trip, quick and efficient," Rhaegar replied, surveying the carnage below. "What''s happening here, is it war?"


    Daemon tilted his head, a hint of smugness in his voice. "Not yet, just an initial skirmish. War ising soon."


    Lys had captured a wild dragon. The Iron Throne sent envoys to deal with Lys''s magister, but they were rebuffed. All of Westeros and the nine free cities knew one thing clearly: war was imminent.


    Rhaegar''s eyes grew cold as he strategized in his mind. He patted the Cannibal''s pitch-ck scales, preparing to return to Dragonstone Ind.


    Daemon spoke up, "An emissary from Braavos is meeting with the king today. Your return is timely."


    "Thank you," Rhaegar acknowledged, and the Cannibal immediately took flight.


    ...


    Dragonstone Ind.


    "Roar--"


    The Cannibal flew swiftly,nding on a rocky shore of the Dragonmont.


    Rhaegar dismounted calmly, carrying a sack of dragon eggs. As he approached the main gate of the Stone Drum Tower, he encountered Kingsguard Steffon, who was escorting a group of finely dressed messengers.


    "Prince," Steffon greeted respectfully when he saw Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar nced at the ck-haired, brown-skinned envoys and asked, "Ser, are these the envoys from Braavos?"


    "Yes, His Grace is to receive them," Steffon replied.


    "Understood." Rhaegar handed the sack to the Dragonkeepers, instructing, "Ensure these eggs are looked after carefully."


    The sack contained a dozen dragon eggs from brindled, swamp wyverns, as well as a rare egg from a shadow-wing wyvern. Thetter could grow up to sixty feet long, and its dark scales made it much stronger and rarer than other wyverns. To obtain this precious egg, several shadow-wing wyverns had to be hunted.


    Rhaegar entered the Stone Drum Tower and headed straight to the conference hall on the middle floor. Along the way, the emissaries from Braavos spoke in fluent Valyrian, attempting to converse with him.


    Rhaegar engaged in brief conversation, learning the purpose of their visit. The Sealord of Braavos was hosting a meeting, inviting House Targaryen and the Triarchy to Braavos for negotiations between Westeros and the Free Cities.


    ...


    It was nightfall, and the moon and stars cast a faint glow.


    The Small Council was meeting in the Chamber of the Painted Table.


    Viserys sat with a group of royal advisers, nked by Corlys Vryon, known as the Sea Snake, and Daemon Targaryen.


    Rhaegar sat alone on one side of the stone table, his younger siblings Aegon and Hena standing beside him. The flickering candlelight danced as Viserys, his face stern, began to speak.


    "Should we go to the negotiations in Braavos, and who should we send as the proper personnel?" Viserys deliberated.


    Braavos was close to the Triarchy Kingdom, and it was difficult not to see it as a potential trap.


    "The negotiations are about Westeros'' rtionship with the Free Cities. It is necessary to attend," Corlys said, his face calm as he toyed with a seahorse stone carving. "If you trust me, I can lead the fleet and coordinate with one of the royal advisers."


    Corlys had numerous business partners in Braavos and the Free Cities and felt confident about handling the sea journey.


    Lyonel hesitated briefly before agreeing. "Your Grace, as your Hand, I should negotiate on your behalf."


    The king couldn''t risk his life; it seemed most appropriate for Lyonel to go.


    "No need, Lord Lyonel," Rhaegar interjected. "Not to question your abilities, but this negotiation is crucial, and you might not have the leverage required."


    Lyonel paused, then asked, "Prince, do you intend to go personally?"


    "A Targaryen negotiation requires a Targaryen presence," Rhaegar replied firmly. He looked at his siblings and dered, "I will lead the delegation personally, and Aegon will apany me with our dragons."


    Braavos was often called Valyria''s bastard daughter, but in truth, it was mostly the offspring of Valyria''s ves. This time, Rhaegar intended to remind Braavos of what a true dragon was.

 Chapter 360: Blood and Fire!

    Chapter 360: Blood and Fire!


    "I want to go too!" Hena eximed, her eyes glowing with enthusiasm as she raised her hand.


    Aemond nced at Aegon and added, "I have a dragon. Take me."


    Even little Daeron, who was not yet as tall as the stone table, looked eager to join.


    Rhaegar ignored their pleas and looked directly at his father. "What do you say, Father?" he asked.


    Negotiations in Braavos would likely yield little, but bringing his siblings to disy their dragons would serve as a powerful deterrent.


    Viserys frowned slightly. "If you all go, what if something happens?" he said quietly. Braavos was known for its assassins, and he didn��t want to take any unnecessary risks.


    On the other side, Rhaenys looked relieved. Despite her husband��s protests, she stood and said, "Your Grace, as a Master of Dragons, I should apany them and participate in the negotiations."


    Viserys hesitated, scanning the faces of his children without speaking.


    Understanding his father��s concern, Rhaegar pressed little Daeron��s shoulder and turned to Aegon, Hena, and Aemond. "Do you want to go?" he asked.


    Aegon sighed deeply, his reluctance clear. "I don��t want to go, but it seems my opinion doesn��t matter."


    Hena patted her chest confidently. "Dreamfyre will protect me!"


    "I have no problem with Sheepstealer," Aemond added, ncing at his sister for reassurance.


    Viserys swallowed his objections and turned his gaze to Daemon, who was watching the proceedings with amusement. "You��re responsible for the war," Viserys said sharply. "You go with them!"


    Daemon, caught off guard, snorted and replied, "Yes, Your Grace."


    ...


    The next day at dawn, Rhaenyra reluctantly embraced Rhaegar, kissing his forehead to say goodbye.


    "Be careful," she urged repeatedly.


    Rhaegar smiled, nodding, and gently touched her bulging belly before turning to leave the room.


    In the early morning light, Hena waited outside the door, smiling. "Brother, let''s leave right away."


    As they descended the stairs, Rhaegar said, "It might get a bit rough in Braavos."


    "I''m not afraid. I won''t hold you back," Hena responded proudly. "I''ve been practicing my swordsmanship. Ser Arryk says I''m very talented."


    "Really?" Rhaegar was intrigued. "Where''s your sword?"


    Hena smiled mysteriously and said, "I won''t tell you. I''m hiding it from you."


    Rhaegarughed and rubbed her head as they exited the Stone Drum Tower.


    "Roar!..."


    Meleys, the scarlet-scaled dragon, stood on the long bridge of Stepstones, stretching its neck and roaring.


    On its back, Rhaenys, d in red leather armor, looked down at Rhaegar and Hena. "Boys, it''s time to go!"


    "Roar!..."


    "Roar!..."


    Two more dragon roars echoed from the clouds, and the radiant Sunfyre and the rugged Sheepstealer emerged from Dragonstone Ind, one after the other.


    Rhaegar grinned, his heart swelling with pride.


    The Targaryens were not weak.


    ...


    A dayter, a cargo ship arrived at the bustling port of Braavos, teeming with people from all over the world. Among the ships was arge and luxurious vessel carrying a group of merchants from Pentos, all of whom stood on deck as they approached the city.


    Before entering the harbor, they had to pass a historical marvel-the Titan of Braavos. This colossal statue of stone and bronze stood guard over the entrance to thegoon that led into the city.


    The Titan''s feet rested on the peaks of two separate inds, creating a natural gateway. The giant figure wore a green bronze battle coat, and its hollow eyes contained roaring fires. One hand grasped a massive boulder on the left ridge, while the other reached skyward, clutching the hilt of a broken sword.


    Closer inspection revealed arrow holes in the giant''s thighs and holes in the lower part of his battle coat. More than just a symbol of Braavos'' bravery, the titan was the city-state''s first line of defense.


    "Gods above, such a magnificent structure exists in the world!" a merchant eximed, awestruck, praying that his venture would bring him great fortune.


    "Roar��"


    Suddenly, a dragon''s roar echoed through the sky as a massive ck dragon swooped down, its thick tail brushing the top of the Titan''s head. With a thunderous crash, the half-helmet crown on the Titan''s head was knocked off, plummeting into the sea like a boulder.


    "A Dragon!" the sailors on deck shouted in shock and fear, falling to their stomachs as they watched the ck dragon fly toward the city-state.


    "Is it gone?" whispered one sailor, relieved to think the dragon was gone.


    "Roar..."


    Another roar filled the air as a light blue dragon with glittering scales descended from the clouds, its well-proportioned body and magnificent wings chasing after the ck dragon.


    "Roar..."


    Next came a procession of dragons: a brown, rotting dragon; two scarlet dragons of varying sizes; and a golden dragon that shone like the sun. Each dragon leapt over the Narrow Sea in quick session, heading straight for Braavos behind the Titan. None of them seemed to regard the ancient statue with any seriousness, yfully circling it as if to tease an awkward pet.


    Near the Titan, numerous cargo ships had gathered, and merchants from all over the world looked up in unison, one thought dominating their minds.


    The dragons wereing.


    ...


    Braavos, the most unique and powerful of the free-trading city-states, sprawled across a series of inds in the northwesternmost section of Essos. It sat at the juncture of the Narrow Sea and the Shivering Sea. Passing through the imposing Titan of Braavos, an endlessgoon spread out before visitors.


    Hundreds of densely packed inds carved the bay into numerous narrow channels, interconnected by awork of stone arch bridges that spanned the waterways. The city-state was devoid of trees, dominated instead by stone buildings and granite statues. The streets were lined with gray stone houses, packed so tightly together that they seemed to lean on each other, highlighting the city''s overcrowded poption.


    To the south of thergest harbor stood a cluster of imposing buildings, marking the administrative heart of Braavos��the Sealord''s Pce.


    "Roar��"


    A deafening roar announced the arrival of Cannibal. The dragon''s pitch-ck, charcoal body blotted out the sun as it slowly descended andnded beside the fountain pool outside the Great Hall.


    Boom!


    With a gentle p of its massive wings, a fierce wind kicked up, blowing the assembled guards off their feet. Soon the rest of the dragons arrived in turn, eachnding with a resounding thud around the towering hall.


    Rhaegar slid off Cannibal''s back and straightened his robes with a calm expression as he looked at the trembling guards who dared not approach. Rhaenys, Daemon, and the others gathered beside him, their eyes fixed on the approaching delegation sent to greet them.


    ...


    Sealord''s Pce, Great Hall.


    The Sealord of Braavos personally escorted the Targaryen delegation into the impressive chamber. Rhaegar, silent and observant, led his three younger siblings as they took in the surroundings.


    The entire structure was made of white stone, decorated with carvings of nautical scenes, storms, and other maritime motifs. The floor was covered with rich red carpets from Lys, and the walls were hung with oil paintings and various collectibles. The mix of opulence and history gave the room a sense of literary grandeur.


    "Targaryens Guests, pleasee in," The Sealord of Braavos invited, leading them into the conference room.


    Rhaegar took a moment to study him. The Sealord was a typical Valyrian descendant, with tinum blond wavy hair, blue eyes, and pale skin tinted with red. He was a mature man in histe forties, not particrly young or handsome, with thick eyebrows, a full chin beard, and a booming voice. He introduced himself as Ferrego Antaryon.


    Inside the conference room, several people were already seated around a long, oval te table iid with carvings of shells and smiling faces. Ferrego beamed as he introduced them, "These are the princes and princesses of House Targaryen..."


    The assembled representatives were from Pentos, Qohor, and the Triarchy. The other three Free Trade city-states had not sent delegates. After brief introductions, everyone took their seats.


    Ferrego sat facing the entrance, with a slender swordsman standing silently at his side. Rhaegar took the seat directly across from the Sealord, while Rhaenys and the others sat along the sides of the table as best they could.


    Once everyone was seated, Ferrego cleared his throat and spoke gravely, "Gentlemen, we are gathered here today to resolve the conflict between the Iron Throne and the Triarchy."


    Knock, knock...


    Rhaegar leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming on the tabletop. Calmly he spoke, "The feud between the Targaryens and the Triarchy will be put aside for now. I''vee to reim my family''s dragon."


    His gaze then shifted to a dark, burly man sitting to his left: Khaeldor Astor, one of Myr''s magisters and the Triarchy''s primary representative at this meeting.


    Under Rhaegar''s icy gaze, Khaeldor'' already dark face seemed to darken even further. He squinted at the representatives of Lys and Tyrosh before replying in a gruff voice, "Prince Rhaegar, we are here to discuss matters of war, not a wild dragon."


    "What do you mean by ''matters of war''? And what do you mean by ''wild dragon''?" Rhaegar''s expression grew stern. "Morghul is a Targaryen dragon, maliciously captured by Lys. War is my only recourse if this injustice is not righted!"


    Morghul, the given name of the wild dragon of the Smoking Sea, was named after an ancient Valyrian god who symbolized disaster and nature. Regardless of Morghul'' origins, Rhaegar imed it as a Targaryen dragon.


    Khaeldor hesitated, his round face contorting as he considered theplexity of the situation. Lys had indeed captured a wild dragon, unprecedented among the Targaryens. The Triarchy had overreached.


    Yet the Magisters of Lys had rallied the mighty men of the Triarchy to tame this fierce dragon, despite the risk of provoking war with the Targaryens.


    Since time immemorial, only the Dragonlord families, now represented only by the Targaryens, have been able to control dragons. The presence of a wild dragon had ignited a fervor within the Triarchy, driving them to attempt to tame it.


    The atmosphere grew tense. Everyone felt the pressure mounting. Daemon nced at the Pentosi dignitaries around him, sipping his wine with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Aegon, Hena, and Aemond sat poised, ready to act at their elder brother''s signal.


    Ferrego coughed lightly, trying to break the tension. "Prince Rhaegar, this negotiation is for the sake of peace. I urge you to honor that peace."


    Rhaenys'' displeasure was immediate. She spoke coldly, "Sealord, my cousin sent us here to negotiate because he values the rtionship with Braavos. But that does not give you the right to undermine House Targaryen."


    The negotiations seemed increasingly futile. The Sealord of Braavos appeared to be a shrewd politician, cloaking his intentions in a facade of peace.


    Ferrego''s face tightened, and he began to speak again, but the atmosphere had already chilled. The warm sunlight streaming in felt like cold, harsh light.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were piercing as he addressed the young Lyseni sitting beside Hena, his voice like ice. "Lys should return Morghul, or the only thing awaiting you will be blood and fire!"

 Chapter 361: Alright, Let’s go to War!

    Chapter 361: Alright, Let��s go to War!


    "Prince Rhaegar, don''t you think you''re being too aggressive?"


    Khaeldor interjected from the sidelines, his fat, tanned face taut with tension.


    Rhaegar looked down at him with disdain. "In what capacity are you speaking to me, my lord?"


    "I am the general representative of the Triarchy, and I am in charge of these negotiations," Khaeldor replied, straightening his clothes.


    Myr had suffered greatly since the defeat at the Second Battle of the Stepstones, and Khaeldor was now the only magister left. He had made a fortune rebuilding the city, bing the richest merchant in the city-state.


    Rhaegar snorted. "A ''general representative,'' indeed." He swept his gaze over the Triarchy representatives, finally fixing his cold stare on Khaeldor. "I''m asking you one thing: will you return Morghul or not?"


    Under Rhaegar''s violet gaze, Khaeldor''s nerves tightened, and he swallowed hard. His heart raced, but the prospect of taming a dragon outweighed his fear. It was a businessman��s nature to seek profit.


    Khaeldor straightened his back, hisrge belly protruding, and said in a deep voice, "Morghul is a wild dragon. It has no master or rider and now belongs to the Triarchy!"


    "Rubbish!" Rhaegar''s face darkened. "My great-grandmother Queen Alysanne��s mount Silverwing still resides on Dragonstone Ind without a rider. Does that mean you can capture it as well?"


    Khaeldor gritted his teeth. "Targaryen has never had an adult dragon named Morghul. It is fundamentally a masterless dragon."


    "If you refuse to hand over Morghul, then prepare to see fire and blood!" Rhaegar''s patience snapped, and the negotiations copsed.


    The tension around the stone table was palpable. Hena clenched her fists nervously, while excitement shed in Aemond''s eyes as he nced at his brother.


    Seeing the confrontation escte, Ferrego hurriedly stood up,ughing brightly. "Let��s not rush into anger. We can negotiate the ownership of the wild dragon."


    Bang!


    Rhaenys pped the table and turned her cold gaze to Ferrego. "Sealord, The Targaryens will not allow any dragons to be taken, nor will we tolerate anyone who dares to try it!"


    The temperature in the room seemed to drop to freezing. Everyone knew that the Sealord of Braavos had been insincere, secretly aiding the Triarchy to suppress the Targaryens.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were icy. "Sealord, can I take it from your words that you have allied yourself with the Triarchy to dere war on Targaryen?"


    Ferrego was momentarily speechless. He nced at Khaeldor and then said with forced resolve, "Prince Rhaegar, the wild dragons do not belong to the Targaryens."


    Rhaegarughed derisively. "I didn''t know there were dragons in the world that didn''t belong to the Targaryens."


    He crossed his arms and said, "Very well, then let''s go to war."


    Rhaegar patience was exhausted, since they wish for war, he will grant then a song of blood and fire that will be remembered in history!


    Khaeldor, his face flushed with anger, stood up violently. "Liar! Do you think this is still the Freehold era? Targaryens was just a poor Dragonlord family. Many lineages in Essos are more noble than your bloodline!"


    The representatives of Lys and Tyrosh stood up as well, turning the negotiation into a confrontation.


    Crunch.


    Rhaegar''s chair scraped against the floor as he stood, the harsh sound echoing through the room. Khaeldor''s face was grim as he stared at the silver-haired prince rising before him, hisrge belly heaving with each rapid breath.


    Khaeldor''s confidence was bolstered by the five hundred Unsullied soldiers under hismand and the alliance with the Sealord of Braavos. This alliance was the backbone of his courage to challenge the Targaryen heir prince. His breath grew heavier, and he nced at his ally Ferego, puffing out his chest with a proud demeanor.


    But as his gaze returned to Rhaegar, a pale, jade-like hand shot out before his eyes.


    Bang!


    Khaeldor''s head mmed into the stone table. He tried to scream, but his throat was crushed in Rhaegar''s iron grip.


    "My lord, I admire your courage," Rhaegar sneered, lifting Khaeldor up like a small chicken and mming his dark face into the table again and again.


    Boom. Boom. Boom.


    The relentless blows sent blood flying, an unbridled release of Rhaegar''s pent-up rage. A lowly ver who dared to defy him was beyond reproach.


    "Stop!"


    The sudden violence stunned the Lys and Tyrosh representatives, who shouted in rm.


    Swish.


    Hena, her face tense, drew a small, pocket-sized sword from her sleeve and pressed it against the Lys youth''s sr plexus. "Don''t move."


    Simultaneously, madness shed in Aemond''s eyes. He smashed a ceramic cup from the table and held a sharp shard against the Tyrosh youth''s neck, nearly severing his throat. Blood flowed freely.


    The Qohor representative''s face turned white with panic. "Targaryens, please, let''s talk this out!"


    As the old man tried to rise, Aegon sprang up, grabbed his head, and mmed it against the table. "Old fool, stay down!"


    The meeting room transformed into an execution ground. One by one, the four Targaryen heirs unleashed their fury, having waited for this moment.


    "Stop! Stop this at once!"


    Ferrego''s face was pale with shock. His gaze shifted from the cold-faced Rhaenys to the executioner-like Rhaegar. Rage and fear mingled in his eyes.


    The lean swordsman beside Ferrego drew his de, stepping forward to protect the Sealord.


    tter...


    Hearing themotion outside, a group of guards quickly rushed into the conference room, their spears and swords raised as they surrounded everyone. Rhaenys stood haughtily, holding her sword, Dark Sister, as she gazed at Ferrego, who cowered in the doorway.


    Only the Pentos representatives and Daemon remained at the conference table.


    "Gentlemen..." the stunned Pentos representative began, trying to make peace.


    Daemon squeezed his shoulder, keeping an eye on his nephews and nieces, and smiled slightly at Ferrego. "What, you still think you can keep us here?"


    Ferrego''s face turned red with anger. "Prince Daemon, you openly attack a guest in my pce. Do you think Braavos is easy to bully?"


    "Oh?" Daemon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Wasn''t it you who first thought the Targaryens were easy to bully?"


    Ferrego''s anger boiled over, his beard trembling as he pointed at Rhaegar, who was methodically smashing Khaeldor''s head into the table. "He''smitting murder!"


    Rhaegar paused and turned to give a cold warning. "If you don''t want to lose that finger, put it down."


    "You..." Ferrego stuttered, unable toprehend the Iron Throne''s newfound audacity.


    Suddenly, a dragon''s roar echoed through the room, loud and piercing. The floor-to-ceiling windows darkened as a shadow fell across them.


    Ferrego''s eyes widened in horror as a massive, pitch-ck dragon''s head slowly emerged, its green vertical pupils glowing with a cold light, like an evil god watching over them.


    The dragon bared its teeth, revealing interlocking sharp fangs, and exhaled a mouthful of ghostly green dragonfire. The intense heat shattered the ss window, sending a torrent of searing air into the room.


    Even from over ten meters away, Ferrego''s hair and beard began to singe, the acrid smell of burning hair filling the room.


    Rhaegar stood with his back to the dragonfire, his silver hair blowing in the wind, his purple eyes glowing with fury. With one hand, he dragged the half-dead, bloodied Khaeldor toward Ferrego.


    "Stop!" The thin swordsman cried, his fear evident as he nced at the dragon.


    The guards surrounding the chamber broke ranks, screaming and wailing in terror as the heat washed over them.


    Rhaegar stopped in the middle, his expression fierce. "I said it was war!"


    With that, he mmed his fist into Khaeldor''s throat, then used his other hand to rip out part of the man''s throat, the gruesome act silencing the room.


    "Ho ho..."


    Khaeldor couldn''t even scream, his face contorted in agony as he clutched his throat, his ck, fat body writhing like a dying maggot. Slowly, painfully, he sumbed.


    Rhaegar nced at Ferrego and scornfully dered, "Sealord, the first blood of the war has been shed."


    He raised his blood-soaked palm, and the severed throat flew out, snapping off like discarded garbage.


    The grisly piece slid across the white stone floor, leaving a vivid trail of blood, and came to a stop at Ferrego''s feet.


    Ferrego was stunned, his chest heaving with a mixture of rage and fear, unable to utter a word - neither to curse nor to spit venom.


    Unconcerned, Rhaegar stooped, pulled a silk handkerchief from Khaeldor''s breast pocket to wipe his hands, and headed for the door. "Dragonfire will first fall on Lys. Please, expect it."


    His words echoed and drew an immediate response from his siblings.


    Hena nced timidly at the Lys representative, and with a firm thrust, drove her small sword through his temple, the de piercing his entire head.


    Stab!


    Aemond moved even faster, the porcin shard slicing through the Tyrosh representative''s throat, blood spurting three feet away.


    Not to be outdone, Aegonughed wickedly and grabbed the old man''s head from Qohor, intending to smash it against the table.


    The old man immediately pissed himself and yelled, "I''m not one of them!"


    "Hm?"


    Aegon hesitated, nced at Hena and Aemond, who had alreadypleted their tasks, and scornfully released the old man.


    With Rhaegar leading the way, the four young Targaryens walked out the door one by one.


    "Heh, a good show," Daemon grinned as he rose, tugging the Pentos representative along. This was how wars should be fought��the more intense, the better. His brother''s son was much more bloodthirsty than his father.


    Rhaenys frowned, refraining frommenting on her cousin''s approach, and turned to leave the conference room.


    After the Targaryens exited, Ferrego looked at the field of corpses and the screaming guards, trembling in a daze.


    Taking a fewbored breaths, he turned to re at the silver-haired figures walking down the corridor, unable to control his urge to curse.


    Swish��


    Sensing the malice behind them, the silver-haired figures turned their heads in unison, staring back with cold, unyielding eyes.


    The corridor''s dim light cast shadows on the white stone walls, and six pairs of violet eyes shone with a cold, deadly aura.


    Ferrego hupped in surprise, the words dying in his throat.


    A phrase came hastily to mind:


    "Blood and Fire!"

 Chapter 362: Valyrian Steel Sword – Long Summer

    Chapter 362: Valyrian Steel Sword �C Long Summer


    Seven dayster.


    Dragonstone Ind, Chamber of the Painted Table.


    "Gentlemen, since we are all here, it''s time to formte our strategy," Rhaegar announced solemnly, looking around the room.


    Present were members of the Targaryen and Vryon Houses, Small Council members, Bartimos Celtigar of w Isle, and Royce Caron representing the Stornds, among others.


    Corlys Vryon unrolled a two-meter wide, five-meter long map of the Narrow Sea, pointing to the Stepstones Inds. "The Iron Throne has officially dered war on the Triarchy. They''ve been preparing for this and will likely aim to capture the Stepstones first to control the shippingnes and trade."


    Daemon��s eyes sparkled as he pointed to Lys on the map. "Lys has captured Morghul and is the strongest of the Triarchy, also the closest city-state to the Stepstones. We should send out the dragons to burn them en masse, coordinate with our fleet to seize the route, and attack the harbor."


    Both men, with their battlefield experience, had been preparing and nning diligently.


    "Not a bad proposal," Rhaegar nodded, considering the sea charts. "But there''s an issue: we don''t have as many battle-ready dragons as we need."


    He nced around the room.


    Rhaenyra, hands caressing her growing belly, sat nearby. Laena, assisted by Celine, was surrounded by her twin daughters. Hena, Aemond, and Daeron were too young to fight. And his father, sitting across the table, was too ill to ride a dragon into battle.


    Bartimos of w Isle leaned forward, eyes gleaming with shrewdness. "Prince, the dragons we can field aren''t as few as you think."


    Daemon took over, listing the dragons. "We have Cannibal, Caraxes, Meleys, Seasmoke, and Sunfyre ready for battle. Five dragons can devastate any free city."


    "If Imand the battlefield, Lys will fall within half a month," he asserted confidently.


    Viserys, glum, interjected, "But we face more than one enemy city-state."


    He had hoped negotiations would prevent war, but the young Targaryens had brutally ended that hope by ughtering the Triarchy''s representatives.


    Lyonel Strong agreed, "The Triarchy��s fleet is strong, and they''ve borrowed money from the Iron Bank to hire many mercenaries. Plus, Braavos and Dorne will likely interfere, threatening our rear."


    "War has already begun; we can''t afford to hesitate," Daemon said firmly. "Gather the fleets of Vryon, Celtigar, Gulltown, and Storm��s End. With the Five Dragons leading the charge, Lys will fall."


    Otto Hightower frowned, worried. "Prince, you know the Triarchy has amassed arge force. A direct assault risks heavy losses for our army."


    The conversation highlighted a critical issue: battlefieldmand.


    The fleet from Oldtown was still en route, but their arrival was imminent. If the reckless Daemon led the strategy, Hightower��s soldiers might not survive to return home.


    Daemon��s face grew cold as he stared at Otto, the two old enemies locking eyes in mutual disdain.


    Knock Knock...


    As the tension rose, Rhaegar knocked on the table, steering the conversation back on track. "A frontal assault with too many casualties isn''t what the kingdom needs. And we must remember, Lys still holds an untouchable weapon."


    He nced at Tormund, who promptly pulled out a letter. "The wild dragon Morghul is in the hands of Lys. The Triarchy has summoned all Valyrian descendants of Essos to tame the dragon in what they call the ��Red Sowing��.��


    Half a month had passed, and every day saw dozens or hundreds attempting to tame the dragon, only to end up as its victims.


    The hall fell silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in.


    Viserys grimaced, teeth clenched. "A bunch of despicable thieves, trying to steal House Targaryen''s dragons!"


    The implications were clear. If someone seeded in taming Morghul, it would not only shift the battlefield but also inspire others to covet their dragons. The possibility of someone stealing dragon eggs or taming a wild dragon on Dragonstone increased, a potential disaster for the Targaryens.


    Daemon��s face hardened. He pounded the table. "That��s why we need to strike quickly, break through Lys, and recapture the wild dragon."


    Rhaegar nodded in agreement. "The sooner the war is decided, the better. But, Uncle, your strategy is a huge drain on the nation''s resources."


    He looked directly at his father, stating, "I propose that I serve asmander-in-chief, with Lord Corlysmanding the sea and Daemon as vanguard officer."


    Daemon retorted immediately, "You''ve hardly evermanded arge legion in battle, and you were soft a few years ago."


    Rhaegar shot back, "Imanded the Second Battle of the Stepstones, leading us to victory."


    He left unsaid that Daemon had been imprisoned in the Red Keep at the time.


    Uncle and nephew red at each other, the room thick with tension.


    Viserys, gued by a headache, nced at the calm Corlys and made a decision. "I agree with Rhaegar''s proposal. It makes sense for the Heir Prince to be themander."


    He couldn''t risk giving Daemon and the Sea Snake too much power.


    Rhaegar smiled. "Then I''ll outline a n, and you can all suggest improvements."


    "No objections, Prince," came the chorus of agreement from the advisors.


    Rhaenyra smiled softly, leaning towards Rhaegar. He returned her smile, gripping the back of his chair.


    The siblings were firmly inmand.


    There were only two people seated in the Painted Table: Viserys and Rhaegar.


    There were only two people sitting in the great chamber of the Painted Table: Viserys and Rhaegar.


    Rhaenyra,te in her pregnancy, had given up her chair to Rhaegar. Meanwhile, Laena, even further along in her pregnancy, had to rely on Celine for support as she stood.


    Rhaegar, adopting a serious tone, began, "The Triarchy covets the Stepstones. With war imminent, they will likely make it their main battleground to block our armies."


    He continued, taking the discussion in a new direction. "To achieve a quick victory, the strategic importance of the Stepstones themselves is secondary. Capturing the city-states of the Triarchy is critical."


    "I propose that we abandon the defensive forces on the Stepstones and assign Daemon to lead the Stornds fleet in an attack on one of their city-states."


    "Lord Corlys willmand the fleets of Vryon, Celtigar, and Gulltown, splitting our forces to take another city-state with the support of our remaining dragons."


    Rhaegarid out a strategy to divide and conquer, aiming to minimize casualties. "Braavos and Dorne will cause trouble. Sunfyre will guard Gulltown, Dreamfyre will protect w Isle, and these two dragons will assist in securing the Narrow Sea."


    Turning to Aemond, who was listening intently, he said, "Sheepstealer will be stationed at Storm��s End to monitor movements at Cape Wrathand Boneway. You''re authorized to take temporary measures, but avoid direct engagement."


    Viserys, looking perplexed, hesitated. "Do we really need to involve Hena and Aemond in these missions?"


    Rhaegar nced at his younger siblings and nodded. "This negotiation has shown me their growth. Besides, they ride two formidable dragons and are capable of defending themselves."


    Dreamfyre and Sheepstealer were substantial enough to significantly impact a nking battle, second in size only to true adult dragons.


    "Father, leave the Stornds to me!" Aemond spoke up eagerly, his eyes shining with the desire for recognition.


    Hena added, "Dreamfyre and I can hold w Isle and fend off any harassment from Braavos."


    Bartimos, nodding in agreement, remarked, "The middle of the Narrow Sea is lightly defended. Two dragons can alleviate a great deal of pressure."


    Viserys, still uncertain, nced at his youngest son Daeron, who was ying at his feet, and sighed. He felt confident in Aegon, who had already seen battle. Hena and Aemond, however, were a different matter.


    Yet, with w Isle''s proximity to Dragonstone and Driftmark, and Aegon guarding Gulltown, the risks seemed manageable for Hena. But Aemond, potentially facing the Triarchy''s pirates or a Dornish invasion, caused him more concern.


    Finally, Rhaegar reassured him. "Father, they are ready. They can shoulder significant responsibilities on the nking battlefield, easing the burden on us."


    ...


    Near Dragonmont.


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre roared proudly, his golden scales gleaming brightly. His broad wings spread wide against the ground, the light pink membranes translucent and splendid.


    More than ten meters away, Dreamfyrey prostrate, its light blue scales mimicking the clear sky, and its silver back scales dotted like white clouds.


    Nearby, beneath Dreamfyre��s neck, Hena stroked the dragon��s scales and nced sideways toward the back.


    Rhaegar smiled, gripping a one-handed sword with a dark green scabbard. Its hilt was silver and white, adorned with a delicately carved budding stamen, and a spiral de thatplemented its elegance.


    Aemond was already impatiently riding Sheepstealer to Storm''s End Castle topete with Aegon and Hena.


    Rhaegar reached out, gently rubbing Hena��s head, and asked with a smile, "Where''s your sword?"


    Hena��srge, bright eyes flickered as she gazed at the one-handed sword and replied candidly, "It''s stuck in that Lysene��s head."


    "Uh..."


    Rhaegar''s eyelids twitched, taken aback by the young girl��s blunt admission.


    He handed her the sword, saying earnestly, "Remember? This is the gift I promised you when you learned swordsmanship."


    "Thank you, brother."


    Hena, excited, reached out her small, plump hand to grasp the sword and drew it smoothly.


    Swish��


    A cold light shed as the silver de, two fingers wide and engraved with petals that resembled dragon scales, was revealed. The straight, slender de shimmered with water ripple patterns, unmistakably made of Valyrian steel.


    Rhaegar chuckled. "This sword was forged in the same furnace as Truefyre and Realm''s Delight. You may name it as you wish."


    These three swords were his pride, forged from the rare steel of Brightroar and Truth.


    Sniffing the de affectionately, Hena��s round eyes sparkled as she carefully dered, "This sword will be called Long Summer."


    Rhaegar, known as the Summer Prince and recently knighted, smiled at the fitting name. "The ancientnds of Valyria were known as Long Summer��a good choice."


    Hena treated Long Summer as her prized possession, waving it several times before sheathing it and strapping it to her waist. Standing about 160 centimeters tall at 13 years old, she was well-suited to wield a one-handed sword.


    "Brother, I''m leaving."


    Hena hugged Rhaegar reluctantly and then descended the softdder, grasping Dreamfyre��s scales.


    "Be cautious in all matters, and let Aegon take the lead if needed."


    Rhaegar adjusted her green cloak and watched her mount the dragon.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre and Sunfyre roared as theypeted in spirit, soaring away from Dragonstone Ind with their riders.


    With hands sped behind his back, Rhaegar watched the dragons depart.


    "Prince, the people you asked have arrived," announced Tormund, d in ck and white robes. He was followed by a dozen young men and women with silver hair and purple eyes.

 Chapter 363: Red Sowing

    Chapter 363: Red Sowing


    "Roar--"


    Atop the towering Dragonmont, a colossal dragon, ck as charcoal, soared through the sky. It flexed its burly frame, stretching its vast wings.


    As it elevated its wings, the dragon dipped its head and swooped down, its green eyes fixed on the open space below.


    Rhaegar stood with his arms crossed, his ck robe billowing in the wind.


    A few meters behind him, a group of ragtag bastards, d in coarse linen, huddled together for warmth.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal circled the sky, gradually folding its wings beforending heavily on the ground with a thunderous thud. Debris scattered and dust billowed in all directions.


    Cannibal emitted a low growl and rose, wings bracing against the ground, its formidable head obscuring the figure of its rider.


    "Well done."


    Rhaegar smiled, reaching out to stroke the dragon''s pitch-ck scales, cold as steel under his touch.


    He slowly turned, eyeing the dozen or so bastards, and asked softly, "Do any of you desire a dragon?"


    Awe-struck, the bastards gasped, their eyes locked on the immense, mountainous form of Cannibal, their longing almost tangible.


    This was a dragon!


    For bastards born to fishermen and herders, it represented the ultimate power and wealth.


    Yet, this symbol of ascendance was usually out of reach, merely a distant dream.


    They weren''t even deemed worthy of touching it.


    Rhaegar''s expression remained impassive, waiting for a volunteer.


    Knowing well what this opportunity meant, the first to step forward did so without hesitation.


    "Prince, I want a dragon!"


    From the crowd emerged a towering, silver-haired man with broad shoulders. His stride was confident as he made his way forward.


    This man bore the visage of youth, his arms thick and scarred from years of cksmithing.


    "What is your name?" Rhaegar asked, scrutinizing him.


    The man approached, kneeling before Rhaegar, his voice gruff: "My name is Hugh Waters, a humble cksmith from the town."


    Rhaegar nodded slightly and surveyed the others, asking tly, "Is he the only one?"


    Rhaegar nodded gently and looked at the group of bastards once more, saying ndly, "Is he the only one who wants a dragon?"


    "And me!" shouted a dry, thin man with silvery blond curls, struggling to push his way out of the crowd despite his unkempt beard.


    With him was a pale-haired, wobbly-footed young man.


    Rhaegar looked at the man and asked for his name.


    The skinny man kneeled on one knee, lifted his slightly handsome face, and said excitedly, "Prince, my name is Silver Denys, and I participated in the Second Stepstones War."


    He tapped his somewhat sloping left leg, proving, "This is the injury I received from fighting with the pirates of the Triarchy, and I was left with a disability."


    Rhaegar looked him over and frowned slightly.


    His body was dry and thin, reeking of alcohol. His left hand was missing his ring finger and pinky, and his right hand was missing its pinky. He did not look like a respectable person.


    Tormund whispered in Rhaegar''s ear, "An old gambler with debts and chopped-off fingers, but with a respectable battlefield performance."


    Rhaegar nodded and turned to the other white-haired youth.


    "Prince, my name is Ulf. I also participated in the Second Stepstones War," the youth introduced nervously, gulping with trepidation.


    Tormund continued, "A drunkard who went to war for money."


    Rhaegar remained impartial. Regardless of the bastards'' characters, as long as they could bring back the wild dragon Morghul, he would give them their reward.


    Rhaegar surveyed the group one by one and said sternly, "I believe you have heard that the kingdom is once again at war with the Triarchy."


    The bastards looked at each other, unsure of how to react.


    Without hesitation, Rhaegar said loudly, "There is a Targaryen masterless dragon in Lys, and your task is to bring that dragon back to me!"


    Didn''t you want Red Sowing?


    Then he also included some bastards with stronger bloodlines, giving them the same probability of taming Morghul. The difference between the Valyrian descendants of the Triarchy and the bastards was not much.


    At least the bastards were still beholden to the Targaryens, who provided them with shelter and money. If sessful, titles and fiefs could be awarded.


    All he had to do was wait for one of the bastards to return with dragons to im his reward. Just one thing: the moment the dragonnded in Westeros, itsir was to be secured immediately.


    When the bastards heard that they could tame a dragon openly and honestly, with gold, silver, and treasure waiting for them, their eyes lit up.


    Not only the three who introduced themselves, but a dozen bastards fell to their knees and eagerly volunteered to go to Lys. A bastard''s life was cheap, and they did not care whether they lived or died. Whoever could tame the dragon would immediately be famous. This deal was worth it!


    The corner of Rhaegar''s mouth curled into a smile. He signaled Tormund with his eyes to proceed, and then he stepped onto the softdder and climbed onto the dragon''s back.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared with its head held high, its wide, pitch-ck wings spreading out hundreds of meters as it leapt into the sky.


    In front of a group of bastards, it perfectly demonstrated what a true dragon was.


    ...


    Time passed and three days passed.


    Stepstones, Gray Gallows Ind.


    "Roar..."


    A dragon''s roar, as loud as a bell, echoed across the entire ind. A pitch-ck dragon soared in the sky, swooping down to spray ethereal green Dragonfire.


    "Dracarys!"


    At the young man''smand, the Dragonfire flowed continuously, sshing like ink.


    Beneath the Dragonfire, a dozen pirate ships flying the g of the Triarchy suffered a destructive blow, instantly igniting in a forest of green mes.


    On the beach, the pirates who hadnded earlier swarmed. Fortunately, the ind had a watchtower and stationed archers, who briefly held off the pirates with a barrage of arrows.


    "Dracarys!"


    Rhaegar, riding on the dragon''s back, gave themand with an expressionless face.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal turned back, its pitch-ck body swooping down against the steel spearsunched by dozens of scorpion crossbows. It unleashed another torrent of Dragonfire, turning iron into molten g.


    asionally, a steel spear would strike its pitch-ck scales, but they crumbled away upon impact, failing to prate the dragon''s defenses.


    The green Dragonfire incinerated the pirate ships in a series, burying the pirates and scorpion crossbows in a sea of mes. The dragon''s thick, long tail snapped a ship''s mast, sending waves crashing as it smashed into the sea.


    Head held high, the dragon soared over the beach, sweeping the pirates'' remnants away with dragonfire.


    After half a dozen sweeps, it began to clean up the battlefield.


    Cannibalnded on the beach, and Rhaegar, still on his back, overlooked the busy soldiers below.


    Robb, dressed in silver and gray armor, approached.


    Rhaegar asked, "How many men do we have left?"


    "Less than five hundred on the tworge indsbined," Robb replied, his face heavy.


    If it weren''t for the Prince and Cannibal, this amount of manpower would never have been able to repel the relentless attacks from the Triarchy.


    Rhaegar exhaled and said, "It doesn''t matter. Daemon is attacking Tyrosh, and Lord Corlys is leading the main fleet to attack Lys. We''ll soon see the results."


    "I hope so," Robb nodded heavily and turned tomand the nearby soldiers to carry away the corpses.


    ...


    In Lys, white and gray stone buildings dominated thendscape, giving the city-state a stark, fortified appearance. Watchtowers were spread strategically across the city, adding to its defensive posture.


    On the west side of the harbor stood a domed structure, originally an arena, now repurposed and sealed off with bronze gates.


    Inside, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the bustling city outside. The space was dimly lit, illuminated only by a series of bonfires, creating an enclosure where the wind scarcely entered.


    A low, resonant roar echoed intermittently, each time sending waves of scorching air mixed with a pungent sulfur stench through the space. At the heart of this enclosurey Morghul, a behemoth of a dragon nearly sixty meters in length. Its immense body sprawled across the stone floor, huge head drooping, nostrils ring with heavy breaths. The dragon��s scales shimmered silver and ck, its wing membranes a misty gray.


    The creature��s head was adorned with two backward-curving grayish-white horns, and its long, thick tail was notably missing a piece. Despite its majestic appearance, the dragon was restrained; dense chains encircled its neck and limbs, tethering it to the ground and rendering it powerless.


    A middle-aged man with flowing silver hair, visibly nervous, approached the dragon with a goat in tow, hoping to curry favor by feeding it.


    "Morghul, heed mymand," he murmured in a shaky voice, trying to get the dragon''s attention.


    Unmoved, Morghuly still, eyes closed, ignoring the man''s advances.


    "Good dragon... let me touch you," the man whispered, moving closer.


    At that moment, a shadow suddenly loomed over him. The air stirred violently, and he froze, slowly looking up.


    Above him hovered Morghul'' massive head, ck vertical pupils staring down indifferently. With a heavy snort and an ominous growl, the dragon opened its jaws wide.


    "Roar!!"


    A st of grayish Dragonfire engulfed the man in an instant, incinerating him along with the unfortunate goat that had managed to flee a short distance.


    Outside the building, a man and woman watched the scene unfold, blocking a dozen mercenaries at the entrance.


    The man, Bambaro Bazane, a magister of Lys, had a stern look. ��Bring another dragon seed,�� hemanded.


    A mercenary quickly ushered in a skinny teenager with short silver-blonde hair, visibly frightened, holding a raw fish as an offering to the dragon.


    The only beautiful woman present turned away and murmured, "Another snack for the dragon."


    She was delicately built, her slender form enveloped in a flowing silk robe that subtly outlined her petite curves.


    Her hair, a cascade of waist-length ck curls, contrasted starkly with her pale, tender skin, framing an ethereally light and pure visage.


    Bambarro chuckled. "Hard to believe the ck Swan still harbors any tenderness."


    Johanna gave him a fleeting nce and said quietly, "The Iron Throne''s fleet has split in two. The formidable Vryon fleet is making a beeline for Lys. It''s time you devised a strategy."


    Bambarro''s eyes hardened as he responded, his voice deep, "Scorpion crossbows stand ready both inside and outside the city-state. A hundred warships wait beyond the harbor, and with the fortune I''ve borrowed from the Iron Bank, I must tame that wild dragon!"


    To conquer a dragon, he had invested heavily, spilling blood money.


    Seeing her words were in vain, Johanna smiled wryly and said, "I''m returning to the Perfume Garden. The Archon of Vntis awaits mypany."


    "Very well," Bambarro dismissed her, gesturing impatiently.


    With a graceful curtsy, Johanna exited the building with poise.


    As the bronze doors closed, faint, mournful cries echoed from within.


    Shaking her head slightly, Johanna stepped into her borate carriage.


    Inside, a voluptuous woman in a diaphanous veil knelt on the floor, her head bowed in submission.


    Johanna reclined on the plush couch, idly twirling a ck and white rose. "Can you reach Dragonstone Ind?" she asked quietly.


    Johanna Swann, once captured by pirates before the initial Battle of the Stepstones Inds, had been abandoned by her uncle, Lord Swann, who refused her ransom. Taken to Lys''s PleasureHouse, her beauty and cunning soon allowed her to navigate and eventually dominate the elite circles of Lys, earning her the moniker "ck Swan."

 Chapter 364: The Battle of Myr

    Chapter 364: The Battle of Myr


    Several days had passed, the conflict escting mercilessly.


    A fleet of dozens,unched from the Stepstones Inds, bypassed the disputednds near Tyrosh and sailed into Lysene waters with the precision of a sharpened de.


    At Lys harbor, a hundred pirate warships emerged, marshaling tens of thousands of mercenaries and preparing an army to confront the advancing enemy fleet.


    From a distance, the two forces eyed each other, the brink of battle looming.


    With a piercing shriek, a scarlet dragon, its wings broad and neck serpent-like, cleaved through the clouds and descended over the sea, initiating its attack.


    Suddenly, a st of dragonfire streaked from the skies, targeting a pirate ship of the Triarchy.


    The haunting sound of a war horn echoed as dozens of warships, adorned with seahorses and red crabs, aligned impably. Catapults loaded with oil-soaked stones stood ready on their decks.


    "Counterattack! Surround them!" bellowed voices from the Triarchy, as scorpion crossbows,den with steel bolts, aimed at the assaulting fleet and the dragons above.


    "Dracarys!" Daemon, astride Caraxes,manded. His attire, a pitch-ck dragon scale armor with a crimson cape, marked him as the battlefieldmander of the Lys Sea engagement.


    Caraxes let out a high-pitched scream, its echo a sonic wave, as it elegantly soared, unleashing continuous torrents of dragonfire on the pirate ships below.


    "Release the crossbows!" shouted a robust man with red curls and olive skin, wielding a scimitar as he directed the mercenaries in a calcted counter.


    This was Sharako Lohar, a famed mercenary leader from Myr and the Navy Commander of the Triarchy.


    Daemon��s eyes gleamed with sarcasm as he ordered another onught of "Dracarys!"


    Caraxes responded with continuous roars, its wide, scarlet wings pping vigorously as it spewed fire over a pirate ship.


    The dragon, seasoned in navalbat, adeptly dodged iing bolts, safeguarding both itself and its rider.


    Despite their numbers, the mercenaries were clearly at a disadvantage, their inexperience with dragons causing disarray and panic.


    "Crossbows on that dragon! And if you miss, use the crossbows on yourselves!" Sharako roared as he shoved aside panicking crewmen, seizing the ship��s wheel to take aim at the looming Blood Wyrm.


    At just the right moment, as the Blood Wyrm dove to release its fire, Sharako''s eyes hardened and he triggered theuncher.


    The steel bolt shot forth, narrowly missing the unsuspecting Blood Wyrm.


    Daemon,manding the fleet''s advance, felt a chill as danger approached.


    "Roar..." Caraxes sensed the peril, swiftly curling its body to ascend, instinctively seeking cloud cover to evade the enemy.


    The bolt grazed its slender tail, causing no damage. Daemon��s gaze turned icy as he watched the enemy ship that had fired.


    "Fire!" hemanded, as a barrage of steel spears rained down, forcing Caraxes to retreat once more.


    "Damned fools!" Daemon cursed, maneuvering his dragon into a defensive loop.


    Meanwhile, warships flying the gs of the Houses of Vryon and Celtigar rammed the Triarchy''s ships with suicidal fervor.


    The impact was catastrophic: wood splintered, screams filled the air, and the sea became a chaotic mess of men and debris. The battle became a brutal melee.


    That night, under the eerie glow of torchlight, the makeshift Dragonpit in Lys echoed with the unsettling sound of a dragon��s roar.


    The low, guttural call of Morghul reverberated through the chamber, mingling with the harsh nk of chains. The captive dragon, in a fit of fury, snapped violently, unleashing a st of smoky gray dragonfire, desperate to incinerate the confinements of its prison.


    The creature was gued by incessant disturbances from the mercenaries, growing weary of the meager fare it was forced to consume.


    Outside the bronze gates, a group of mercenaries watched the masterless beast��s rage with a mix of fear and fascination.


    "We��re close to breaking its will," Bambarro dered, barely containing his excitement.


    Beside him, a gaunt old man with a white beard and hair, his eyes clouded and distant, peered intently at the dragon. Draped in a blood-red robe and leaning on a gnarled scepter, he rasped, "After sacrificing hundreds from Valyrian blood by feeding it, we��ve finally seen the dragon��s resilience wane."


    Known as Priest Roth, this blood wizard had journeyed across the vast Dothraki Sea to serve in this grim endeavor. His methods involved blood sorcery intended to sap the will of dragons.


    With reverence, Bambarro asked, "Priest Roth, shall we attempt another taming tonight?"


    Roth shook his head, his voice gravelly, "This dragon''s intellect rivals that of man. Giving it a rest tonight may make it easier to controlter."


    After a few final instructions, the old priest limped away on his staff.


    Rubbing his hands in eager anticipation, Bambarro then received reports from his subordinates. "The Iron Throne��s fleet was defeated at sea, and Daemon Targaryen refuses to unleash the dragons for another strike, fearing a second confrontation."


    Chuckling, Bambarro mused, "We''ve secured the Stepstones Inds and blocked all trade through the Narrow Sea. Do the Targaryens really think a few dragons can take Lys unaided?"


    Despite his bravado, a flicker of concern crossed his mind. "Keep your eyes on Vntis, those territories are watching Lys closely."


    "Yes, Magister."


    "Send word to the Archon of Tyrosh. The Iron Throne may be splitting their forces for a pincer attack. Tell them to strengthen their naval defenses."


    Bambarro''s strategies had been shaped by whispers and warnings of Targaryen tactics, including their previous stealth attacks on Lys, proving that he was as cunning as he was ruthless.


    ...


    As Bambaro anticipated, the waters near Tyrosh were not spared from conflict.


    A fleet of ten warships bearing the seahorse g boldly initiated an assault on Tyrosh��s patrol vessels, triggering a fierce skirmish at sea. The Vryon ships, adept in their maneuvers, dominated the encounter, seizing control of the disputed waters and systematically targeting isted patrol ships.


    Archon Milov Strode of Tyrosh, infuriated by the audacity and sess of the Vryon fleet, took matters into his own hands. With a fiery resolve, hemanded a squadron of thirty ships to pursue and engage the enemy.


    In a relentless battle on the turbulent seas, Strode��s forces decisively defeated the Vryon fleet, sinking their ships and quelling their threat.


    This victory marked the downfall of both fleets from the Iron Throne that had ventured forth from the Stepstones Inds, each being systematically dismantled in their respective encounters.


    ...


    Myr.


    Nestled in the Bay on the continent of Essos in the Sea of Myrth, this city-state enjoys a strategic location.


    Inside the Magisters'' Pce, the Council Chamber feels emptier than usual without Khaeldor Astor. Only an elderly man and a young man remain.


    Their conversation does not revolve around taming dragons or repelling an attack from the Iron Throne. The fate of the Valyrian descendants sent to Lys is now in the hands of the gods.


    Geographically, Myr stands independently on the continent, meaning any assault from the Iron Throne would require circumventing the Tyrosh blockade and traversing the entirety of the disputednds.


    The elder, his skin dark and hair dyed purple, spoke in a resonant tone, "We need to choose a new Magister to rece Khaeldor. The wealthy merchants of the city are already vying for the position."


    The young man, with dark hair, nodded, "The Corhos Houses has proposed a significant gold offering to settle our debts with the Iron Bank. They''re quite generous."


    At the mention of the Iron Bank, the elder''s expression darkened, his voice tight with frustration, "It''s regrettable that our Unsullied were intercepted by the Braavos Sealord." This legion of five hundred Unsullied would have been more cost-effective than hiring five thousand mercenaries.


    The discussion continued unabated, even delving into the estate of thete Khaeldor, considering selling his concubines and offspring to raise funds.


    Soon a servant interrupted with a letter and handed it to the elder. He squinted at the contents with obvious disdain: "Bambaro is a fool, Myr''s position is not that easy to attack, we would be thest standing at the end of this war."


    The young man scoffed as he read over the letter, "With dozens of warships at our harbor, what threat does the Iron Throne��s fleet pose?"


    Their only real concern was a potential attack by dragons.


    "If the Iron Throne��s King rashly decides to unleash several dragons to incinerate our city, their losses would be catastrophic. Yet, our scorpion crossbows are formidable too," the elder mused, confident that the King''s timidity would prevent him from risking his dragons against their fortified city.


    Just as they were reassuring themselves of their preparations, a terrifying dragon roar shattered the silence.


    "Roar--"


    A colossal evil dragon, its scales as dark as charcoal, erupted into the sky above Myr. It blotted out the sun, its thunderous roar echoing across the city and beyond.


    On the northern city walls of Myr, Rhaegar stood with an icy gaze, draped in a ck cloak. Riding the dragon Cannibal, hemanded in a steely voice, "Dracarys!"


    With a ferocious roar, Cannibal, its wings vast and dark as night, swooped toward the towering stone fortifications. As it descended, a torrent of eerie green dragonfire spilled forth, engulfing the defenses. Soldiers scrambled desperately, their screams piercing the chaos as they fled from the consuming mes, as ephemeral as autumn leaves in a gust.


    Unmoved by the fleeing figures below, Cannibal glided at a low altitude, its fiery breath relentlessly melting the stone walls which sizzled and hissed under the extreme heat. The stone and steel, no match for the dragon''s breath, melted away, distorting and copsing into molten pools.


    Outside the city, an imposing force was assembled. Five hundred Unsullied stood at the ready, backed by two thousand ck-armored Fearless. Behind them, Robb led eight hundred heavily armored Second Sons atop warhorses, followed closely by two thousand knights of the Vale, their banners of the Sky-blue falcon fluttering above.


    The rear was bolstered by a 5,000-strong contingent from Pentos, a mixed force of mercenaries, sellswords and hired Dothraki cavalry, all united in dread and awe of the ck dragon overhead.


    This siege tactic was unprecedented, awe-inspiring and terrifying in its execution.


    As a significant portion of the city walls crumbled under the dragon''s assault, the cries of despair from the defenders filled the air. Returning to the fray, Cannibal roared menacingly. On its back stood a silver-haired young man, bathed in sunlight, his presence almost godlike.


    With all eyes upon him, Rhaegar''s purple gaze pierced the chaos below as he raised his armsmandingly and roared, "Send the troops, attack Myr!"


    At his signal, over a thousand Dothraki cavalry responded first. With wild shouts, they drew their swords and charged, leading the charge. The rest of the army followed in a relentless wave, cavalry thundering ahead, infantry close behind.


    Cannibal roared again, its massive form casting a shadow over Myr as it dove towards the city center, unleashing more torrents of green dragonfire to clear a path.


    Above, the sky filled with the roars of dragons��Red Queen Meleys, Blood Worm Caraxes, the light silver Sea Smoke, and the light gray Gray Ghost. Together, they descended in a devastating cascade, their dragonfire painting the city in spectral hues.


    Despite the Triarchy''s naval prowess, the strategic infiltration of the Pentos army through the coastal route rendered the city-states'' defenses as fragile as parchment-easily shredded.


    The strategy was cunning: divide the forces into three, two to distract and one to stealthily breach the defenses. As the foot soldiers charged through, the dragons above orchestrated a ballet of destruction, their fiery onught ensuring that Myr would soon surrender to theirbined might.

 Chapter 365: Deathwing – Cannibal

    Chapter 365: Deathwing �C Cannibal


    "Roar--"


    Cannibal dove aggressively, unleashing dragonfire that swept across several nearby tower buildings.


    Inside those towers were scorpion crossbows, their steel bolts glowing with deadly intent.


    "Aim! All of you, gather your strength!" bellowed the guardmander, his voice hoarse as he rallied the terrified soldiers, urging them to prepare their crossbows and fire.


    Boom!


    No sooner had the order been given than a wave of ghostly green dragonfire engulfed the tower, reducing it to rubble and ash.


    As the Dothraki cavalry charged through the breached and melted city walls, their war cries mingled with the eerie sounds of destruction. Wielding swords, they surged forward, following the shadow of the pitch-ck dragon into the heart of the city.


    Still, scattered remnants of the city guard dared to mount a defense. As swords shed and heads rolled, their desperate courage mirrored that of the barbarian savages.


    "Attack! Storm the city towers!" shouted Robb, leading a squadron of Second Sons. The Dothraki cavalry thundered through the streets, their presence signaling the beginning of a ruthless assault.


    As was typical in the cities of the Triarchy, thendscape was dotted with densely packed crossbow towers, usually the first target to cripple the city''s defenses.


    "Roar..."


    The city''s gates were overwhelmed as more cavalry and infantry poured in. The four colossal dragons roared in unison, spreading chaos as they sted towers with dragonfire.


    Rhaenys, d in red battle armor and wielding Dark Sister, reveled in the fray. Her excitement was palpable, the thrill of battle lighting up her visage��the Queen Who Never Was, was fearless in the face of war.


    "Dracarys!" she shouted.


    Meleys responded with astonishing speed, streaking across the sky like red lightning. Scarlet dragonfire rained down in deadly arcs, sweeping through the bustling inner city.


    Caraxes and Sea Smoke moved in concert, capitalizing on the momentary disarray of Myr��s defenders to deliver devastating blows, effectively crippling the city-state��s defensive capabilities.


    The Grey Ghost, pping its wings erratically, unleashed a barrage of orange fireballs. Its vertical pupils locked onto targets below, creating a bombardment that felt apocalyptic.


    Within moments, thebined fury of the dragons had obliterated a third of Myr��s outer city.


    From above, Rhaegar''s purple eyes focused on a tower armed with a scorpion crossbow. "Cannibal, Dracarys!" hemanded coldly.


    "Roar--"


    Cannibal��s green eyes zed with tyranny as it swooped low, scattering green dragonfire that enveloped everything in its path.


    The fire, relentless and indiscriminate, devoured both stone structures and fleeing civilians alike, reducing everything to charred remains.


    Screams of agony rose from the streets as those touched by the dragonfire writhed helplessly, their fate sealed by the infernal ze.


    The city, now a veritable hell on earth, echoed with the cries of the damned.


    In the midst of the chaos, amidst the sea of green mes, countless ves broke free from their chains. Overwhelmed by a mixture of terror and reverence, they fell to their knees before the majestic terror of the pitch-ck dragon, hailing it as the "Breaker of Shackles."


    Three years had passed, yet they vividly remembered the ck Dragon and the silver-haired youth��hailed as the Breaker of Shackles, a liberator in the eyes of the enved across the Triarchy.


    "Roar--"


    Cannibal, the dragon, thrashed its head, sending swirls of green fire cascading down as its body cut through the air with reckless abandon.


    In a high tower, the garrison scrambled to their posts, hurriedly aiming their scorpion crossbows at the menacing ck dragon.


    The next moment was disastrous.


    A huge, pitch-ck wing unfurled and struck the tower like a siege hammer. The impact resounded with the force of thunder, splitting the towering spire in two.


    "No, no..." The garrison''s efforts were in vain; the tower shook violently, and falling masonry buried the soldiers before they could fire a single bolt.


    "The evil dragon is here..."


    Freed ves poured from the streets, prostrating themselves in worship. As they witnessed the dragon''s wings demolish the stone tower, cries of "Death Wings!" echoed through the chaos.


    "Deathwing..." The name spread quickly among the ves, who gazed upon the dragon and its rider with a mixture of fear and awe, as if they were gazing upon gods.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal''s roar was one of fury as it collided with another tower, its thick tail smashing the top with a resounding crash. The dragon''s pitch-ck wings spread wide, casting shadows that mingled with green streaks of fire.


    Rhaegar, observing from his mount, saw thousands of cavalry flood into the city. They obeyed his orders, cutting down guards in a brutal onught.


    His gaze swept over the white stone buildings of the inner city, the architectural grandeur clearly marking the administrative heart of Myr.


    Patting Cannibal''s back, Rhaegar directed, "Cannibal, look there!"


    In unison, the dragon turned its gaze toward the white stoneplex and roared, soaring towards it with lethal intent.


    Meanwhile, a dozen towers managed tounch their bolts in a desperate attempt to halt the dragon''s rampage.


    But Cannibal, the insatiable beast, was undeterred; steel spears ttered harmlessly against its scales, igniting mere sparks.


    With a casual flick of its tail, Cannibal demolished another tower spire. It then swooped down, unleashing a torrent of dragonfire on the white stoneplex.


    "Scorpion crossbow! Quickly, aim!"


    Inside theplex, thousands of garrison troops scrambled to position their scorpion crossbows, readying for a confrontation, but, they were ill-prepared to win against a fully-grown dragon.


    "Roar--"


    Dozens of steel spears flew toward Cannibal, only to be met by a fierce st of dragonfire that reduced them to molten iron droplets.


    With a powerful p of its dark wings, Cannibal descended, its massive feet crushing the ground beneath and raising billowing clouds of dust.


    The monstrous dragon reared its head, unleashing dragonfire that incinerated guards and scorpion crossbows alike, reducing the building to ashes.


    "Quickly escape!" the survivors cried.


    "The fire... it''s so intense..."


    The dragonfire spread rapidly, engulfing half of the white stoneplex. Garrison soldiers and officials alike were caught in its merciless embrace, their cries of agony echoing as they perished.


    "Heh, is that all?" Rhaegar remarked, a cold smile ying on his lips as he stood atop his dragon, surveying the chaos around him like one taking a leisurely stroll through a park. Everywhere his gazended, people screamed in misery, desperately struggling to survive in the mes.


    At this moment, resistance was futile.


    Holding the reins firmly, Rhaegar guided Cannibal like amander leading a siege engine. Wherever they passed, screams of terror followed.


    Together, one man and his dragon, they brought about the apocalypse of Myr.


    "Charge! Seize the Magister''s Mansion!"


    As Cannibal scorched the earth, Grey Worm led two thousand five hundred Unsullied and Fearless, their faces set with grim determination as they charged through the fire-ravagedplex.


    Rhaegar watched as Grey Worm and his troops charged into the sea of fire, destroying any Myr soldiers hiding in the surrounding towers.


    "Roar..."


    A roar from Meleys filled the air as itnded forcefully, its talons crushing a tower beneath it as it spread its wings wide.


    Atop Meleys, an exhrated Rhaenys called out to her nephew, "Rhaegar, the southern part of the city is ame, and the Vale Knights have taken control!"


    Married to a fierce warrior, the Queen Who Never Was, who had been to war only a few times, finally unleashed her pent-up rage. This battle reaffirmed her faith in her nephew and ignited her hope for his future reign on the Iron Throne.


    Rhaegar nodded in acknowledgement and nced at the two city centers.


    The northern center was overwhelmed by the fury of five dragons, with cavalry rampaging through the streets. He and Cannibal had secured the heart of the city, turning the tide decisively in their favor.


    Now it was up to Daemon and Laenor to break through the defenses in the eastern and western sectors. If they seeded, the fall of Myr would be inevitable, sealing their victory.


    ...


    The next morning dawned, the sun casting its light on the remnants of the night''s devastation.


    Myry in ash, with tendrils of smoke curling into the sky, a stark reminder of the intense emotions - grief and madness - that had consumed the city.


    In square, amidst the ruins of the Magister��s Pce,y the once magnificent garden, now a deste sight. Springs that had bubbled joyouslyy dry, and the vibrant foliage was reduced to ash.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal stretched its neck and closed its vertical green pupils, its massive, pitch-ck wings folded beside its body as it settled into a state of rest.


    In front of the dragon, a crowd had gathered. The elite of Myr��the Magister''s family, merchants, and those who had profited from very and smuggling��were now kneeling, heads bowed in defeat.


    They had witnessed their city burn and now faced captivity.


    Around them stood notable figures: the Sea Snake, Corlys; Rhaenys; Daemon; Grey Worm; and the Fearless Cavalry.


    Rhaegar, cloaked in ck and his silver hair cascading naturally over his shoulders, surveyed his captives with a detached curiosity.


    There was a murmur of discussion about their fate.


    Corlys spoke with a stern resolve, ��Prince, the Magister of Myr may have be executed, but this merchants and city magnates should also be rounded up and eliminated en masse."


    The battle for Mir had been a tactical sess, and he acknowledged the Heir Prince''s strategic acumen but it was better to eliminate any potential threats now rather than deal with dissentter.


    Rhaegar responded coolly, "Myr now belongs to the Targaryen House now. Keeping them alive serves no purpose."


    He was well-versed in power dynamics and did not require guidance on such matters.


    Eliminating these leaders will ensure that Myr truly bes a Targaryen stronghold. There��s no point in sparing them if they want to avoid future insurrections.


    After all, if he had intended merely to make a show of force without real consequence, he would not have targeted the civilian infrastructure.


    If maniption of power was necessary, the enved popce, which constituted half the city-state��s demographic, would suffice.


    Swish��


    With Truefyre drawn from his waist, Rhaegar approached the two governors of Myr. He raised his longsword high, dering solemnly, "In the name of Viserys I Targaryen, I sentence you to decapitation."


    A sh of ck light cleaved the air, and heads tumbled to the ground with a dull thud.


    Pfft! Pfft!


    Grey Worm led the Unsullied forward, their spears thrusting through the chests of hundreds of merchants, drenching the once-dry ground with fresh blood.


    "Roar��"


    At that moment, Cannibal awakened, its green vertical pupils snapping open as it let out a thunderous roar.


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    The dragons Sea Smoke and Grey Ghost, circling the white stone building, roared in session, as if answering the call of their king.


    Then, the two dragons ascended yfully into the clouds, spewing streams of Dragonfire.


    Atop the highest tower of the Magister''s Mansion, a majestic three-headed red dragon banner unfurled, billowing in the wind atop Myr��s most significant political edifice.


    Rhaegar nced sideways; the white stone tower, now stained with charred ck, stood defiant. The three-headed red dragon on the banner seemed almost alive, its body twisting in the sea breeze, its wings pping, all three heads fixed on him.


    A sense of awe overwhelmed him, and his heart skipped a beat.


    Rhaegar cleaned Truefyre''s de on the crook of his arm, removing the blood stains. A faint smile curved the corners of his mouth.


    What Aegon the Conqueror had failed to aplish, he had. From that day forward, the blood of the Targaryens would once again im thends of Essos.


    Corlys'' stern voice broke his reverie, "Prince, now that Myr has fallen, we must discuss the garrison and deployment of our forces."


    Rhaegar nodded thoughtfully. "How many warships remain in the harbor?"


    Despite the fierce ind battles, Myr''s harbor had suffered minimal damage, leaving the warshipsrgely intact.


    Corlys'' expression darkened further as he answered through clenched teeth, "Thirty-four battleships are currently in port, though some have been captured by mercenaries fleeing the battlefield."


    Rhaegar assessed the situation. "Combined with the House Vryon fleet, we have enough to assemble a force of fifty warships."


    "That is correct," Corlys replied, inhaling sharply.


    In truth, Vryon House had less than twenty warships left-their main forces had been decimated in the battles at Lys and Tyrosh, where they had served effectively as sacrificial decoys.


    Rhaegar showed no sympathy for Sea Snake''s losses. "This number of ships is insufficient for a direct attack on Tyrosh. Once Myr is secured, we''ll move immediately to retake the Stepstone Inds."


    He was indifferent to the casualties of Sea Snake''s troops. To him, using the Vryon fleet as a decoy was a calcted move to weaken a potential rival''s base during the war.


    "Wait."


    Daemon''s voice cut sharply through the discussion, his intense gaze fixed on his nephew.


    Rhaegar turned to face him. Daemon, d in blood-stained armor, wore a grim expression. Beside him stood Pentos'' trade minister, Rhodes, his golden scales gleaming on his chest.


    Meanwhile, Sea Snake fidgeted, twirling his thumb around his ring.


    Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed slightly. "I propose we reorganize our forces and retake the Stepstones Inds immediately!"


    Daemon held his gaze, the weight of the moment settling in silence.

 Chapter 366: Braavos’ Dragon Eggs

    Chapter 366: Braavos�� Dragon Eggs


    Rod, the Magister of Pentos, broke the silence first. "Prince Rhaegar, now that Myr is under our control, it is time to discuss the division of territory and spoils."


    Pentos had contributed significantly to the war effort, shouldering the financial burden of transporting Westeros'' armies across the sea. The prince himself had led a formidable contingent of 5,000 men, supported by over 1,000 skilled cavalrymen. Given Myr''s surrender, Pentos naturally expected a substantial share of the spoils.


    Rhaegar looked at him coolly, displeased. "The war in the Triarchy is not over yet, and already you want to divide the spoils?"


    He turned to his othermanders, including Sea Snake and Daemon, and continued, "I understand your wishes, but the war continues. Let''s not be short-sighted."


    The war had been waged for territorial expansion and control over lucrative sea routes. Sea Snake had invested heavily, offering up not only resources but also his family''s blood. Now, he demanded rity on the Iron Throne''s position.


    Daemon, silent till now, stared intently at the fluttering three-headed red dragon banner above the Magister''s Mansion. The night before, he had negotiated strenuously with his brother Viserys over the dominion of the free city-states. iming Myr would be ideal.


    Observers like Rhaenys, Laenor, and his family watched quietly, their expressions tense. They considered both Sea Snake and Daemon overly eager for gains.


    Nearby, a diverse array of forces including Grey Worm, Robb, the Vale Cavalry, and the Fearless watched the unfolding power dynamics with mixed expressions.


    Standing before them, Rhaegar''s stance was resolute, his voice cold. "Let''s end the war first, and then I will ask the Iron Throne for your rewards."


    Looking Rod straight in the eye, Rhaegar continued sternly, "You can withdraw your troops from Myr immediately. The Iron Throne willpensate you. Or, if you prefer, you can stay and help us take Lys and Tyrosh."


    Rod''s face stiffened for a moment, then turned into a sardonic smile. "Prince, rest assured, Pentos remainsmitted to seeing this war through. There is no need to question our loyalty."


    A storm of thoughts swirled through his mind. Myr was now under the control of the Iron Throne, and Pentos had invested heavily in the conflict, pitting it against other free cities. With the Unsullied, the Second Sons, and the Knights of the Vale implicitly undermining Pentos'' standing, he knew that Pentos had to maintain a careful bnce.


    5,000 troops will be enough to hold Myr, and they cannot risk alienating the Iron Throne.


    "The Prince is magnanimous. The Iron Throne values its allies," he added, masking his anxiety.


    Rhaegar''s reply was a calcted mix of threat and reassurance. He understood the strategic importance of Pentos'' naval capabilities in the assault on the ind city-states of Lys and Tyrosh.


    Returning his attention to Sea Snake and Daemon, Rhaegar concluded, "When this war ends, the Iron Throne will duly reward you. Consider this promise carefully."


    As the repairs began on the Magister''s mansion, Rhaegar beckoned Aunt Rhaenys and Laenor to join him as they walked towards the main building in Myr. Aheady the arduous tasks of restoring the city''s infrastructure, aiding civilians, and reintegrating freed ves��essential groundwork before their next military move.


    ...


    As four hectic days psed, the atmosphere at the northern gate of Myr teemed with chaos and noise. A thousand Dothraki cavalrymen had assembled, their horses neighing while whispers floated through the air.


    Amanding Dothraki, his long braid adorned with bells, sat astride his horse at the forefront of the crowd, his expression solemn under a weathered, darkplexion.


    Rhaegar, d in ck robes, approached on a white horse. Trailing behind him were hundreds of cavalrymen from the Second Sons Regiment,den with chests brimming with riches.


    Rhaegar held out his hand in a grand gesture. "Rao Khal, your tribe has recently formed. ept this wealth as a gift from the Iron Throne."


    Rao Khal��s brow creased as he spoke in broken Common Tongue, "Pentos paid the bounty."


    "I''m aware," Rhaegar replied, his smile undiminished. "Consider this chest a personal tribute from me."


    Rhaegar held great admiration for the ferocity of the Dothraki in battle. He knew Rao Khalhailed from a vast tribe and had served as amander within the khsar to its Khal, who fell inbat and was reced in a fierce session battle.


    The tribe splintered, leaving Rao Khal with over two thousand cavalrymen and their families to fend off constant threats from rival factions.


    By offering aid, Rhaegar hoped to secure an alliance.


    Rao Khal''s expression softened, "Dragonlord, I ept your generosity, but the Dothraki will not cross the salt waters to fight."


    "There is no need," Rhaegar reassured him calmly. "You have done enough. Take these treasures and go in peace. Should the future call for it, we may seek your help again."


    After securing the Three Daughters, the remaining free city-states would likely retaliate. Allying with one of the most powerful Dothraki tribes on the continent of Essos was a far-sighted strategy. Rhaegar, now enriched by the looted wealth of Myr''s merchant houses, was well-positioned to forge such partnerships.


    "Thank you, generous prince," Rao Khal responded with respect, urging his warhorse forward and cautiously reaching out to pat Rhaegar''s chest in a gesture of appreciation. His serious face lit up with admiration as he added, "Dothraki never wear armor, either."


    Rhaegar returned the smile, "Nor am I ustomed to it."


    With this exchange, a bond was formed. Rao Khnd his cavalrymen, their mountsden with the gifted chests, erupted into a triumphant cry and rode off towards Pentos to settle their dues.


    As the dust kicked up by the departing riders settled, Rhaegar��s gaze sharpened. He turned to observe the Unsullied patrolling the city walls. Lacking cavalry, the Unsullied��s strengthy in infantry, led by Grey Worm who trained the formidable Fearless.


    This newfound alliance with the Dothraki held promise. Though the Targaryens were historically known for their dragons, not their horsemen, this partnership could very well be a game-changer in future conflicts.


    ...


    The harbor bustled with activity as dozens of warships, their sails emzoned with the three-headed red dragon and seahorse gs, prepared for departure. Pentos mercenaries, d in vibrant uniforms, boarded the ships in an orderly fashion.


    Above them, Meleys roared, her scarlet scales gleaming in the sunlight as she hovered gracefully in midair. On the ground, Cannibal and Sea Smokey in repose, their massive forms coiled and ready, awaiting their riders.


    Grey Worm, leading a contingent of Unsullied, worked diligently to maintain order and manage the dispersal of the gathered ves.


    Rhaegar approached Rhaenys with a calm demeanor. "Aunt, Myr will now be governed directly as a royal territory, and you will oversee its management temporarily."


    With a firm expression, Rhaenys replied, "Don��t worry. With Meleys and me here, no one will reim Myr."


    Rhaegar nodded in agreement. "The Fearless and the Vale Knights will remain as well. They will give you ample support to secure the city-state."


    He gestured to Grey Worm, outlining his duties, "Stay vignt and protect the Master of Dragons."


    The uing battle would shift to the Stepstones Inds, requiring fewer troops at the front. Maintaining control in Myr was therefore of the utmost importance.


    Rhaegar continued to issue brief orders to ensure the stability of the city. "Distribute congee to the suffering civilians and keep the ves working on reconstruction in exchange for food. Keep everyone busy; idle hands often lead to trouble."


    Satisfied that all was in order, Rhaegar, apanied by Laenor, climbed onto the back of his dragon, ready to take flight.


    ...


    In the attic of the Perfume Garden in Lys, harsh curses shattered the silence.


    "Are the Myrmenjust pigs? How could the Iron Throne be breached so easily?"


    "Reggio of Pentos, coborating with the Iron Throne to usurp Essosinds? I swear I will sever his head and throw it into a tar pit..."


    The news of Myr''s fall had only recently reached Bambaro, the Magister of Lys. The loss of two allies in such a short span was a bitter pill for Bambaro, who hailed from humble origins.


    "How could the Magisters of Myr have been so careless?" he seethed, convinced that their minds were only on profit and the ve trade.


    In a rage, Bambaro bellowed through the door, "Fetch the Roth Priest, I need this wild dragon subdued immediately!"


    Outside the room, a delicate figure with dark hair caught every word before disappearing quietly down the corridor.


    Johanna hurried along, her movements swift and deliberate. She returned to her private chamber and quickly locked the door behind her. Her expression was thoughtful as she retrieved pen and paper to write a letter.


    The soft cawing of a raven echoed in the room as she ced the letter in its cage and opened the window to release it into the night.


    Once finished, Johanna adjusted her low-cut bodice and regained herposed and graceful demeanor.


    A knock at the door announced the arrival of a discreet figure. Johanna handed over a key, her voice low and steady, "Transfer all funds from my pleasure house to Vntis."


    She was anticipating the imminent arrival of the Targaryen dragons in Lys. The wealth she had amassed over the years, along with her vastwork of connections, were her most valuable assets in the tumultuous times ahead.


    ...


    In Braavos, deep within the Hall of the Sealord, an underground chamber exuded a quiet emptiness, its silence broken only by faint, audible breaths.


    Oilmps clustered along the stone walls emitted a soft glow, casting shadows that danced lightly across the surfaces.


    "Priestess, how much time remains until the moment you have foreseen?" Sealord Ferrego''s voice carried a tinge of impatience as he stood on a grand, elevated tform.


    "The descent of the Red Comet, heralding the magical tidal wave, awaits only the alignment of the right moment," replied a dignified woman draped in gray robes. Her silver hair fell straight, and her pale skin seemed to glow in the dim light.


    In her hand she held a wooden scepter topped with a delicately carved moon, the symbol of Braavos'' revered Moonsingers.


    Ferrego''s brow furrowed further as he continued. "Priestess, Myr has fallen. I need a timeline."


    His alliance with the Triarchy against the Iron Throne had selfish motives, but as the conflict escted, the great houses of Westeros-White Harbor, Gulltown, and w Isle-had united to blockade trade across the Narrow Sea. This stranglehold threatened to cripple Braavos'' economy if itsted more than a year.


    As the Sealord of Braavos, he felt the weight of possible assassination if he failed.


    After several reminders, the priestess remained unfazed. "The stars indicate it will be soon. I cannot be more specific.," she said with an unsettling calm before turning to leave, ignoring the Sealord.


    In Braavos, the Moonsingers held considerable sway, oftenmanding more respect than even the Sealord himself.


    Ferrego''s face darkened with frustration. "Damn bitch, you just avoid answering me," he muttered under his breath.


    Suddenly, a gust of wind stirred, causing the bonfire on the tform to re dramatically. The bright orange glow revealed the remains of a colossal dragon. Its massive, pitch-ck bones seemed to swallow the light around it.


    Ferrego''s gaze was drawn inexorably to the spectacle. His blue eyes sparkled with a mixture of awe and greed.


    Beneath the imposing skeleton, nestled in a bed of straw,y three dragon eggs, each a different color and intricately scaled, hinting at the power thaty within.

 Chapter 367: The Spring of Viserys

    Chapter 367: The Spring of Viserys


    King''s Landing


    News of Myr''s victory spread like wildfire as the ravens returned to the city. Princes, nobles, andmoners alike found new confidence in the Battle of the Narrow Sea. The dragons and princes of House Targaryen had imed a vast territory for the kingdom.


    Red Keep, Council Hall


    Viserys was beaming, clutching a letter he had read over and over. He had braced himself for worsening circumstances, but to his surprise, in less than half a month, his eldest son had led the army to capture Myr��one of the most esteemed free-trading city-states in the world.


    When the Triarchy rebelled during the reign of Jaehaerys, achieving a fleeting peace hade at a great cost, including the assassination of his Uncle, Aemon Targaryen and the suspected poisoning of his father, Baelon Targaryen.


    Now, his eldest son had captured Myr, intending to dismantle the Triarchy''s kingdom. "Hahahaha, Myr''sce and dye are the best, and now it''s all Targaryen''s!" Viserysughed, his face full of triumph as he nced at the group of royal advisers. He was eager to announce his son''s achievements to the seven kingdoms.


    A tall and thin maester in the corner, smiling, said, "Maester Munkun, record the Myr attack in ten thousand details in the brief history of the pce, without a single omission."


    A hint of a smile appeared on Munkun''s serious face as he answered, "Yes, Your Grace." Opening the heavy pce brief history, he began to write, starting with highlighting the reigning king as "Viserys I," followed by the Regent Prince''s invasion of Myr with the dragon.


    Viserys was pleased to have Munkun record this event, appreciating his loyalty and diligencepared to that old greaseball Mellos and the mute, uninteresting Orwyle. He often wondered why the Citadel''s bookworms hadn''t elected Munkun as a Maester.


    ttening the slightly creased letter on the desktop, Viserys raised an eyebrow and looked to the Hand of the King at his left, saying loudly, "How are the preparations of the ports and fleets of the realms? We must not dy the battle at the front."


    Lyonel, sitting critically, replied sternly, "White Harbor and Three Sisters Ind have formed an interceptor fleet, tightly controlling half of the Narrow Sea and blocking Braavos'' fleet and trade. House Grafton in Gulltown has prepared ample supplies and ships to support the prince to reim the Stepstones Inds."


    Viserys nodded repeatedly, satisfied with the thorough preparations. In the past, war preparations would have caused him a headache. But now, hearing all this made his blood boil, and he wanted to ride Vermithor to the battlefield, spray dragonfire, and return to the Red Keep to enjoy himself.


    Lyonel continued, "Lady Jeyne of the Eyrie ces great importance on the Narrow Sea War, summoning the Vale bannermen to personally sit in Gulltown, forming a second line of maritime defense with the Celtigar fleet of w Isle."


    Viserys smiled broadly, saying, "Of course Lady Jeyne values this. House of Arryn never betrays its loved ones."


    "Yes, Your Grace," Lyonel agreed.


    A sh of helplessness crossed Lyonel''s eyes as he said, "The fleets have been leaving for some time. They should arrive one after the other in about half a month."


    "Very well." Viserys felt immensely relieved.


    Otto, sitting in the first position to his left, suddenly spoke, "Your Grace, I think you should be aware of the situation in the Stornds and Dorne."


    "What''s the problem?" Viserys was taken aback, then a little nervous.


    There had been times when he faced two particrly troublesome issues: Corlys the Sea Snake and Prince Qoren of Dorne.


    With his eldest son, Rhaegar, now carrying the Targaryen banner, and Alicent having given him four children, the Vryons were no longer a threat. But the Martells of Dorne were perpetually troublesome, often keeping him awake at night with worry.


    Otto''s eyes deepened as he nced at Tormund, who sat across from him, and reported, "Prince Aemond is at Storm��s End, yet House Swann of Stonehelm and House Dondarrion of ckhaven are not following orders."


    "Are those two houses still bickering over the matter of the bastards?" Viserys frowned in displeasure.


    Throughout the Stornds, Stonehelm and ckhaven were key border defenses. One defended the seanes of the Cape Wrath, while the other had guarded the treacherous Boneway for generations.


    Otto nodded, "The two families oppose Lady Cassandra''s session to Storm''s End. This act is uwful and deserves severe punishment."


    Viserys hesitated and subconsciously looked at the Master of Whisperers seated to his right.


    Tormund, smiling softly, said, "Your Grace, these houses resisted Storm��s End''s orders but have strictly followed Prince Rhaegar''s defensemands. They are diligently guarding Cape Wrath and the Boneway. It��s not as dire as Lord Otto suggests."


    Houses with long heritages often adhered strictly to rules and beliefs. It was their duty to guard their territories and the kingdom, and they wouldn''t endanger their families by defying orders.


    Relieved by Tormund''s words, Viserys smiled, "That''s good. Let''s wait until the war is over to address other issues."


    Viserys took a closer look at Tormund. Dressed in ck and white robes, with a young and soft face, the White Falcon and ck Raven stood on his shoulders. His appearance and demeanor starkly contrasted with the older advisers like Lyonel and Otto, yet hispetence was undeniable.


    Otto frowned slightly, the king''s words cutting off any further discussion. Viserys, now satisfied that there was nothing of great importance left to address, decided to end the meeting.


    Before leaving, Otto hesitated but still said, "ording to my brother Ormund, the Ironborn are prowling the waters between Lannisport and Seagard. This could be problematic."


    Viserys waved dismissively, "Lord Jason of Casterly Rock will drive away those pirates."


    ...


    King''s Chambers at Nightfall


    The bed frame creaked and shook with the rhythm of their movements. After about half an hour, all was quiet again.


    Viserys leaned back against the bed, draped in a white-speckled robe, sipping cold water with a flushed face. He felt exceptionally well today; his back did not hurt and his legs were not sore. He wondered if his brother Daemon had already finished his errand.


    "Husband~"


    Alicent''s voice was crisp and clear as she buried her head in her husband''s arm.


    Viserys put down his ss of water, stroked his wife''s locks, and smiled, "Just tell me what''s on your mind."


    Alicent raised her face, her white skin translucent with ayer of redness. "The Narrow Sea War isn''t over yet. Do you think Rhaegar will be able to bring down all three Free Trade city-states?"


    "Who can say what the gods have in n?" Viserys smirked. "But Myr is already in our hands, isn''t it?"


    There were nine free-trade city-states that controlled half of the richest coastalnds on the continent of Essos. The Triarchy was located in the disputednd, and its overall strength was second only to Braavos. The prestige, poption, and wealth of each of the three city-states wereparable to Westeros.


    In Westeros, only the Crownds, the Rivends, and the Westends were truly wealthy. The Vale and the Rivends were the richest, while the Northern Realm was the most bitter and cold.


    Alicent''s eyes twinkled as she murmured, "War brings disaster, but I hope Rhaegar can bring down the Triarchy so that the royal family can have more territory."


    Though the royal realm was small, the Targaryens were notcking in territory. What they reallycked were richnds that could produce enough wealth.


    Otherwise, a Targaryen prince of noble birth might be driven out of King''s Landing to live frugally in the countryside. It was better to stay in King''s Landing and enjoy the honor brought by the royal family.


    "Didn''t you hate war and killing?" said Viserys in surprise at the implication, looking down at his wife.


    "But the war has already begun, and it''s not something I, a woman of the court, can control," Alicent said quietly.


    Viserys smiled and didn''t mind. Even if the Triarchy were defeated, the distribution of the city-states would not be up to him. It would still have to be discussed by Rhaegar and the Small Council.


    The couple embraced, each lost in their own thoughts. After a moment of silence, Alicent suddenly said, "Aegon hase of age, and his marriage is still undecided."


    Viserys sighed, "That boy doesn''t like Hena. We shouldn''t force our children to marry."


    It was different from when they had forced Rhaenyra to marry a great noble when she was still the heir. That was to maintain the royal family''s rights. Now, Viserys preferred to follow his children''s wishes, or at least ensure that their marriages wouldst. Aemond was another matter, always bullying his fianc��e Cassandra��a troublemaker like Daemon.


    Alicent sighed lightly, "I know, Aegon is a prodigal son, and Hena..."


    She trailed off, not wanting to speak more about her only daughter. As a mother, she was keenly aware that Hena had no feelings for her siblings beyond kinship. Instead, she had an inexplicable adoration for her half-brother, Rhaegar, since childhood. It drove her mad!


    Viserys wondered, "What''s wrong with Hena?"


    He had eyes only for his eldest son and daughter, asionally ncing at Aegon and young Daeron, paying little attention to the rest.


    "Nothing," Alicent replied, steering the conversation back on track. "Lord Jason of the Lannisters has a daughter who might be a suitable match."


    Viserys sniffed, "Isn''t that Lannister girl eight or nine years old?"


    "Age doesn''t matter; they can be betrothed first," Alicent said.


    Viserys shook his head, "No! Aegon is not fit to marry a lord''s daughter. You''d better choose someone else."


    The Lannisters had always coveted the Targaryen dragons and power. Not to mention that Aemond was already betrothed to the Lady of Storm''s End, and Aegon would be content to marry amon noblewoman.


    Alicent didn''t give up. "What about Margaery of Highgarden? The Tyrells?"


    "I heard the old Lord of Highgarden took a new wife," Viserys said yfully.


    During the Tournament of God''s Eye Lake, the old Tyrell lied about his health and sent his daughter Margaery to represent Highgarden, while he stayed behind to marry a minor lord''s daughter in hopes of producing a male heir. Margaery''s path to emting Jeyne and Cassandra was now ten thousand times harder.


    Alicent''s eyes flickered for a moment before she said casually, "House Hightower. One of my cousins has a daughter who is well-read and of the right age."


    "Hightower?" Viserys hesitated, confused.


    He had already married a Hightower and wasn''t keen on his second son marrying another. It wasn''t that Hightower women were bad - they were very considerate of their husbands. It was just that the second son should marry a daughter of another family to create more potential allies for the royal family.

 Chapter 368: Stepstones Islands – Twin Castles

    Chapter 368: Stepstones Inds �C Twin Castles


    July, the Height of Summer


    Stepstones - Gray Gallows Ind


    "Retreat, everyone! Back to the stone caves for shelter!"


    "Hold the defense! Don''t let those Pentosi bastards gain an inch!"


    On the golden sandy beach, mercenaries shed fiercely, stone throwers hurling flints as mes and smoke rose.


    "Encircle them! Don''t let a single Triarchy pirate escape!"


    Leading the charge on the attacking side was a tall knight in silver armor and white robes, wielding a morningstar with deadly precision.


    Bam!


    The morningstar swung with the force of a tiger''s wind, smashing the head of a Triarchy pirate, sending a spray of blood like an exploding bottle.


    Criston Cole, reappointed as a member of the Kingsguard, was thrust into the Narrow Sea War, once again battling in the Stepstones where he had previously faced disgrace.


    Boom!


    The battle grew fiercer, with warships attacking each other, scorpion crossbows firing, and ships being blown to pieces. Mercenaries fell into the sea, screaming, only to be shot by enemy crossbows as they tried to climb back up, staining the water red.


    Time passed, and the battle became even more intense. Triarchy pirates surged from all directions, attempting to break through the encirclement and retreat to the stone caves.


    "Roar--"


    Suddenly, a dragon''s roar echoed like a bell, and a pitch-ck behemoth broke through the clouds.


    "Dracarys!" Rhaegar, his silver hair flying,manded coldly.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared angrily, swooping down with wings spread wide, unleashing green dragonfire over the beach.


    "Dragon!"


    "Help! Run!"


    The dragonfire fell like smoke and fog, engulfing a group of Triarchy pirates in a torrent of mes, eliciting a chorus of mournful wails.


    Cole looked up and shouted, "Retreat! Guard the beach!"


    Boom--


    Cannibal swooped low, blocking the pirates'' retreat to the stone caves, spewing ghostly green dragonfire uncontrobly.


    "Release arrows! Quickly!"


    On the ind''s peak, a group of pirates armed with bows tried to sneak attack the dragon.


    Rhaegar nced at the sound and snorted, "Cannibal, ughter them!"


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal''s green vertical pupils swept over the archers, abandoning the pirates struggling in the fire, and gliding against the mountain, its fearsome jaws grinning.


    The eerie green dragonfire shot out like a beam, incinerating hundreds of archers in an instant.


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    Simultaneously, two loud and clear dragon roars echoed from the sea. A light silver and a light gray dragon soared into view, joining the fray.


    Laenor''s face was agitated, his silver and gray armor glinting as he roared, "Dracarys!"


    "Roar..."


    Seasmoke''s vertical pupils sharpened, and its broad snow-white wings pped as it swooped down, unleashing Dragonfire upon the sea fleet.


    Grey Ghost circled above while Laenor and Seasmoke were surrounded by chaos, with Grey Ghost sporadically spraying orange Dragonfire onto the battlefield below.


    Rumble��


    A friendly scream pierced the air. rmed, Laenor bellowed, "Grey Ghost, attack from the rear!"


    He spoke in High Valyrian, making it asprehensible as possible for the masterless wild dragon.


    "Roar?"


    Grey Ghost''s vertical pupils shed in disbelief. Its well-proportioned, seemingly slim light gray body zipped into the clouds, quietly observing the battlefield. Without a rider, it struggled to distinguish between friend and foe in the chaos of war.


    Below, the pirates sighed in relief as the light gray dragon flew away. The Grey Ghost''s appearance was not traditionally handsome; its slim, growing body and wide light gray wings gave it a ghostly look. The dragon''s head, adorned with interlocking fangs and a pair of narrow vertical pupils, sported grayish horn crowns curved backward. Perhaps its prolonged contact with Cannibal had influenced its ghastly transformation.


    Seeing Grey Ghost shy away, Laenor felt embarrassed but charged into the battle on Seasmoke alone. The Triarchy pirates'' numbers were vast, with dozens of warships stationed on the Stepstones Inds, presenting a formidable challenge.


    Wooooooooo��


    A high-pitched horn sounded from the sky. A small fleet bearing the stag banner sailed into view.


    "Roar..."


    Above the fleet, an ugly brown y-colored dragon soared, its bumpy spine carrying a silver-haired boy. Aemond''s eyes glinted as he urged, "Sheepstealer, give them Dragonfire!"


    "Roar..."


    Sheepstealer roared shrilly, its massive body gliding low, spraying rotten dot-like chunks of Dragonfire. The fireballs struck the pirate ships, igniting brown mes and smashing holes in the decks.


    "Haha, well done!" Aemondughed excitedly, swaying in the saddle. After a period of adjustment, Sheepstealer had be obedient, at least duringbat.


    "Roar��"


    Cannibal roared, diving headfirst through the clouds, spraying ethereal green Dragonfire onto the pirate ships below. Rhaegar, observing the battlefield, maneuvered his dragon to tilt for a better angle.


    "Roar..."


    Grey Ghosts emerged from the clouds, slowing to join the battle upon seeing familiar allies. With four dragons and two fleets united, the tide of battle quickly turned.


    Under relentless bombardment, the Triarchy pirates found themselves trapped. They were unable to escape into the sea, burning along with their ships, as Dragonfire rained down mercilessly.


    ...


    As the day waned, the naval battle finally came to an end.


    Gray Gallows Ind, Temporary Quarters


    Rhaegar''s silver hair draped over his shoulders, and his face was stern. "There''s still a portion of stubborn defenders on Bloodstone Ind. We need to lead the army to clear them out."


    Laenor patted his chest and affirmed, "Leave it to me. I''ll take Bloodstone Ind before dawn tomorrow."


    "Pay attention to your safety. There are hidden passages on the ind from before. Cole will lead the army to support you," Rhaegar instructed, finalizing the strategy.


    Bloodstone Ind had been Aegon''s fiefdom and under the royal family''s control for three years, so they were well-acquainted with its terrain and dark passages. This familiarity was the reason for their confident grip on the Stepstones.


    Laenor received his orders and set out, initiating the operation overnight. Rhaegar rubbed his tense brow, considering the terrain of Gray Gallows Ind and contemting, "Weck a sturdy fortress."


    There were only two major inds in the Stepstones: Bloodstone Ind and Gray Gallows Ind. Both inds had moderate fortifications, strained during wartime. Internally perfect military fortresses were essential for stronger defense.


    As he mulled over these thoughts, Aemond, d in a green cloak, hurried in, cheerfully announcing, "Brother, there''s a letter from King''s Landing."


    Rhaegar nced at him, took the letter, and advised, "Wear armor next time you go into battle."


    Aemond scratched his head and smiled sheepishly. He had snuck out, pressed for armor that fit, and had already been caught and lectured by his brother.


    Rhaegar quickly read the letter andughed. "Good news��the fleets from Oldtown and The Arbor will be arriving in the next few days."


    In this Narrow Sea battle, Rhaegar aimed for a swift victory to avoid a prolonged conflict. Having captured Myr, one of the three free city-states, and reimed the Stepstones Inds, which controlled the middle of the Narrow Sea, the situation was favorable.


    Waiting for the reinforcements, Myr and the Stepstones Inds formed a stronghold. Capturing the second city-state would secure the war''s oue.


    Aemond''s face lit up with excitement. "Brother, when the reinforcementse, I will attack the city with you."


    Though young, Aemond''s heart yearned for honor and glory.


    Snap!


    Rhaegar backhanded a p on Aemond''s head and questioned sternly, "What is the punishment for insubordination in wartime?"


    "H-Hanging?" Aemond stammered, covering his head.


    Rhaegar sneered, "You know the penalty, yet you still dare to disobey orders and sneak onto another battlefield!"


    "I have a dragon. Sheepstealer is very strong," Aemond argued.


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as he raised his hand again.


    "Don''t!" Aemond retreated quickly.


    Rhaegar lowered his hand, leaned down, and pressed his shoulder, his expression serious. "You have your own mission. The Dornish could attack our rear at any time. You and your dragon must hold the Stornds. Do you understand?"


    The main battlefield of the War of the Narrow Sea was in the Disputed Lands, while the Narrow Sea and Dorne were secondary battlefields. Rhaegar had sent Aegon and Hena to Gulltown and w Isle, with Jeyne overseeing the bigger picture.


    He felt confident about the Narrow Sea. However, the Stornds, Dorne, and even the Rivends were more uncertain.


    Dorne, under Qoren Martell, wouldn''t stand by and watch their ally, the Triarchy, be destroyed. Prince''s Pass, the Boneway, and Cape Wrath would be key attack areas for the Dornish.


    Aemond''s role was to assist Cassandra in managing the Stornds bannermen and use his dragon to block critical attacks. Dys could allow Rhaegar to ride Cannibal back from the sea, or his father could lead the king''s army from King''s Landing to block the way to the fortress.


    Aemond''s absence was a serious breach.


    Aemond''s eyes flickered as he lowered his head. "Got it."


    "Are you sure?" Rhaegar stared deeply into his eyes.


    Aemond pursed his lips and nodded vigorously.


    Rhaegar patted his shoulder and encouraged him, "I''ll overlook it this time. Return to Storm��s End Castle tomorrow morning and watch over Dorne for me."


    "Uh-huh," Aemond sulked.


    Rhaegar smiled and called Robb, who was arranging the garrison. "I intend to build fortresses on Bloodstone Ind and Gray Gallows Ind, using ck dragonstone."


    Robb froze. "Are you going back to Dragonstone to transfer people?"


    "That''s right." Rhaegar thought clearly and instructed, "Daemon and the Sea Snake are leading an army to harass Lys and Tyrosh. I''ll transfer the Sea Snake back, and you will assist him with all your might."


    With Myr''s copse, Lys and Tyrosh would cling together for survival, making a breakthrough difficult. The Stepstones needed impregnable fortifications. ck dragonstone, created with dragon feces and stones, could be quickly infused to build sturdy fortresses.


    Robb nodded and left.


    Rhaegar looked at the scowling Aemond, stroked his head, and muttered, "It''s time to build Aegon a castle."


    Bloodstone Ind was Aegon''s fiefdom, but itcked a decent castle, which was an embarrassment. Before anyone could contest the Triarchy''s territory, it was better to establish Aegon firmly on Bloodstone Ind.


    ...


    Braavos


    Hall of the Sealord, Underground Chamber


    In the dimly lit chamber, several figures gathered around a high tform, shadows cast by a massive keel. Ferrego stood with his arms folded, silently gazing at the three dragon eggs nestled in straw.


    The dragon eggs, covered with scales and showing old abrasions, seemed to have aged over the years. Fortunately, their shells had not turned to stone and still retained the potential for hatching.


    "Sealord, these three dragon eggs may not all hatch sessfully," said a middle-aged man in a brightly colored red robe. He was tall, with light purple eyes, a shaved head, and an unusually handsome pale face.


    Ferrego''s expression was stern as he rebuked, "No matter the cost, all three dragon eggs must hatch!"


    The red-robed man''s eyes darkened slightly. "Then we need a blood sacrifice, not just dragon bones, but also a true dragon blood."


    "Where can we find such a thing?" Ferrego was taken aback.


    The red-robed man shook his head. "I am proficient in an ancient blood sorcery. We need to select three pure-blooded children from the Valyrian descendants you have gathered."


    As he spoke, his gaze swept over the others, implying, "Praying for the dragon eggs to hatch, preferably with magic supplied, will require more effort on your part."


    Ferrego''s eyes narrowed, ncing vaguely at the others present. There was a Shadowbinder, d in ck robes with a pitch-green ghostly face, an alchemist in maester''s robes with a withered face, a red-robed priestess devoted to the Lord of Light, and even an elderly Pyromancer with a silver beard who was nearly fifty years old.


    Thest Sealord of Braavos had failed to hatch the dragon eggs despite his best efforts. Learning from this, Ferrego had spent a considerable fortune to bring together these practitioners of sorcery to devise a foolproof n.

 Chapter 369: The Harbinger of a Storm

    Chapter 369: The Harbinger of a Storm


    Lys, Dome Dragonpit


    "Roar..."


    Inside the bronze gate, a dragon''s roar echoed in bursts, filled with a hard-to-conceal exhaustion and indignation.


    Bambaro''s eyes shone with anticipation as he muttered to himself, "Soon, it must be soon."


    ording to the Roth Priest, the energy of the masterless wild dragon was waning, just waiting for a suitable bloodline to appear.


    "Lord Magister, there are messages from Braavos and Dorn."


    A beautiful courtesan crossed the line of mercenaries, gracefully handing over two letters with unbroken y seals.


    Bambaro took the letters and asked, "Where is Johanna? Why hasn''t shee?"


    The courtesan lowered her head and replied regretfully, "The Lady was infuriated by herst negotiation with the Tiger Party Archon and is still resting at her residence."


    "Very well, you may go."


    Hearing that his mistress and right-hand aide was unwell, Bambaro''s displeasure showed as he waved her away like a bothersome fly.


    Once the courtesan was out of sight, he tore open the letters and examined them one by one.


    After reading them several times, Bambaro''s eyes narrowed slightly and he sneered, "Those two profit-driven men are finally willing to send troops."


    Casually tearing up the letters, he led his team back to the Magister''s Mansion.


    Before leaving, he didn''t forget to instruct the Dragonpit guards, "Don''t let any of the dragonseeds near the dragons before dawn."


    "Yes, my lord," the guards responded promptly, not daring to be negligent.


    ...


    Perfume Garden.


    A ghostly song echoed as two silver-haired men, arms draped over each other''s shoulders, slipped into a remote attic.


    Bang��


    No sooner had they entered than the attic door mmed shut. Several armored guards stood watch outside.


    The same scene yed out in many neighboring attics.


    All the participants were carefully screened Valyrian descendants who had voluntarily joined the [Red Sowing].


    Inside the attic, the two men stumbled around, drunkenly singing.


    Pfft...


    As soon as they reached their room, a tall, strong man, over two meters in height, fell headfirst onto the bed, giggling in a daze.


    The other, a limp but handsome middle-aged man, with fingers missing, rubbed his face vigorously, eyes zed.


    "Denys, you son of a bitch, you won a lot of money. It''s your turn to buy me a drink tomorrow!"


    The tall Hugh shook his head and eyed the money bag at hispanion''s waist.


    Denys waved dismissively, pocketed the bulging purse and slurred, "Buy yourself a pot of horse piss. This money has to go home to feed my child."


    "Haha, you are a lousy gambler and bastard yourself, and you still want to raise a little bastard daughter."


    Hugh mocked mercilessly, as if he had heard the best joke ever.


    "Hmph, you know nothing, you stinking cksmith''s apprentice."


    Silver Denys hupped and staggered back to the bed, grabbing a handful of gold coins and sniffing them vigorously.


    Hugh continued his drunken ramblings, "You had a good hand, winning against those rich men. I thought you''d lose your fingers if you couldn''t pay up or end up selling your daughter to a brothel in Lys."


    Denys rolled his eyes in pleasure, muttering, "I''ve been gambling since I was a kid. If it weren''t for those cheating bastards, I''d be the richest man on Dragonstone Ind."


    "Haha, a rotten gambler who deserves to go to hell."


    Hugh sneered again, but his face fell dejectedly, "Too bad about that lousy drunkard. I heard he was burned by a dragon and his white head was split into three bites."


    "An unlucky man who brought it upon himself."


    Silver Denys dropped the gold coins on his face and smiled madly, "We''re unlucky bastards sent to our deaths, too."


    They had been smuggled to Lys, part of a group of about a dozen.


    Arrivingte, most of them couldn''t get in line and had to squat in the perfumed garden and wait bitterly.


    The white-haired Ulf was lucky; within two days, he had bribed the guard with drinks and cut in line for dragon taming.


    But he was also unlucky, for the next morning he was caught by a hungry dragon and devoured before he could even see it.


    Hugh clenched his fist and smashed the bedboard, muttering, "Do you think if I ride a dragon, I can go back and be a lord?"


    Despite the generous rewards offered by Lys for dragon taming, the bastard from Dragonstone Ind still dreamt of returning home with honor.


    Silver Denys nced at him, smirking, "If you can ride a dragon, not only would you be a lord, but you might even marry the king''s daughter."


    "Would His Grace agree?" Hugh sat up with a jolt, eyes wide.


    He had hoped to be a knight, maybe even get a territory. But now, this lousy gambler was talking about marrying a princess?


    "Haha..."


    Denysughed heartily, "Do you have what it takes to marry a princess? I''m afraid the Dragonkeepers would tie you up as soon as yound."


    "Scram! Don''t spoil my fun." Hughshed out, banging on the table in a fit of rage.


    Denys stifled hisughter, putting the gold coins back into his money bag one by one, avoiding Hugh''s gaze.


    After witnessing the cruelty of [Red Sowing], the thought of bing a dragon rider seemed far-fetched.


    Winning some money at the gambling house and returning peacefully to Dragonstone Ind was enough.


    ...


    Two dayster.


    Dragonstone Ind, Dragonmont.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal sprawled lethargically in a clearing, its throat lightly trembling as it snored, its vertical pupils closed in feigned sleep.


    On a distant hillside, hundreds of raggedly dressedborers climbed up and down, carrying baskets of dragon dung for transport.


    asionally, they found some faded scales, which they treasured and individually gave to the maester who kept the records.


    "Maester dys, is there still enough dragon dung in Dragonmont to supply two medium-sized castles?" Rhaegar inquired softly.


    dys, a half-hundred-year-old man with a kind face, smiled and replied, "Please don''t worry, Dragonmont has umted dung for more than two hundred years, all used for cleaning and hygiene."


    "That''s good," Rhaegar said, returning the smile and entrusting the task of carrying the dragon dung to him.


    This task, seemingly ordinary at first nce, was actually of great importance.


    Theborers were strictly guarded and couldn''t trespass into Dragonmont.


    Fortunately, there weren''t many dragons in Dragonmont, only Silverwing sleeping alone, away from its mate.


    ...


    Two dayster.


    Dragonstone Ind, Stone Drum Tower.


    On his way back to Stone Drum Tower, Rhaegar was met by the acting steward lord, Ser Robert, who sighed with relief when he saw him.


    "Prince, it''s almost lunchtime. The princess is waiting for you."


    "Thank you, Ser," Rhaegar replied sincerely as he brushed past him.


    Running the ind of Dragonstone was no easy task, especially when the highest authority on the ind was ate-term pregnant princess.


    Climbing to the top floor, Rhaegar noticed the door to the lord''s bedroom left open across the corridor.


    A slight smile curled the corner of his mouth as he lightened and slowed his steps, quietly approaching.


    Standing in the doorway, he peeked inside.


    The familiaryout greeted him: a table set with sumptuous food, two elegantly lit candles, and Rhaenyra lying on a soft couch. She wore only a loose nightgown, holding a letter as she read.


    Knock, knock...


    Rhaegar gently knocked on the door, not wanting to startle her.


    "You''re back," Rhaenyra said, looking up with a smile.


    Rhaegar walked into the bedroom and asked curiously, "What are you reading so intently?"


    Rhaenyra''s smile faded slightly as she replied, "A letter from King''s Landing. The Ironborn attacked Lannisport. Father is busy."


    "What is Jason doing? How could he let the Ironborn sneak into the harbor?" Rhaegar frowned, filled with contempt for Jason.


    Rhaenyra beckoned him closer and said yfully, "Calm down. Lannisport didn''t suffer much damage and can still be stabilized."


    Rhaegar shook his head and walked over to sit beside her on the couch.


    Rhaenyra moved into his arms, holding up the letter. "The Ironborn aren''t acting on their own. They''re being bribed."


    "A bunch of unproductive pirates, probably instructed by Braavos or Sunspear," Rhaegar mused, tightening his arms around her and burying his cheek in her pinkish-white shoulder where her hair cascaded.


    "Isn''t it exhausting, having fought all the way to Myr?" Rhaenyra''s eyes softened as she stroked his head, just as she had when they were children.


    Rhaegar shook his head, taking two deep breaths of her scent. Other than the insomnia and sleeplessness, and eating and sleeping badly, everything was okay.


    Rhaenyra rubbed her face against his forehead and murmured, "I want to help you."


    "You already are," Rhaegar replied, hisrge hand caressing her bulging stomach.


    The rounded outline was clear through her silk nightgown.


    Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around his neck, her cheek pressed against his hair. "I want to support my brother and hubsband like Queen Visenya, but it seems I can only be useful on the birthing bed."


    Once, she hadn''t thought that way. But after Aegon, Hena, and the others were sent to various towns and she heard Jeyne was gathering bannermen in the Vale, such thoughts of self-hatred grew.


    Rhaegar, sensitive to her underlying meaning, patted her tightly wrapped arm and rose from the embrace, half-squatting in front of the couch.


    Rhaenyra looked at him in surprise, unsure.


    Rhaegar ced his hands on her legs and solemnly said, "Rhaenyra, you''re already on the most important battlefield. You''re more important than anyone else."


    Rhaenyra ttened her mouth and naively said, "Your battlefield is more dangerous. I''m worried about you."


    Rhaegar''s eyes were clear and firm. "My battlefield is full of blood and fire, but my dragons will protect me, and ten thousand people are willing to die for me."


    He touched Rhaenyra''s stomach with true emotion. "Your battlefield is even more brutal. Ten thousand people can''t suffer in your ce, and your dragon can''t protect you."


    "Pray that the Mother blesses me and allows me to give birth to two healthy babies for you," Rhaenyra said, her eyes flushed as she pressed his head to her stomach.


    "You''ll be as great as Syrax," Rhaegar said with unbridled seriousness.


    The topic shifted from personal ability to procreation, and they fell silent.


    They recalled their mother, Aemma Arryn, a poor woman who had died tragically in childbirth.


    Her death cast a shadow over Rhaenyra, and Rhaegar, the baby of that difficult birth, carried the same darkness in his heart.


    After a moment of peace, Rhaegar rubbed her stomach andughed softly. "Remember the serpent rune power?"


    "I didn''t learn it. And my bronze rune can only be half inscribed," Rhaenyra whispered.


    Creating runes required a lot of magic, and with the scarcity of magic in her blood, she was naturally slower. Not everyone was like Rhaegar, who could borrow his own dragon''s magic.


    "It''s enough that I can," Rhaegar encouraged her.


    He nced around and saw a delicate ss bottle on the table.


    The bottle contained a clear, silky liquid that emitted a faint fragrance when the cork was removed.


    Pouring some of the liquid into his palms, he rubbed them together to generate heat.


    Rhaenyra smiled softly, undoing the buttons on her nightgown to reveal her snow-white belly.


    Rhaegar pressed his hands to her belly, sliding and pushing from bottom to top, applying the oil evenly.


    This nt-derived essential oil had lubricating and nourishing properties.


    Rhaenyra, pregnant with twins, had a rapidly bulging belly. Without the essential oil, her skin would tear, and she''d be left with stretch marks.


    Rhaegar had specifically instructed Orwyle to make this oil, and it was quite expensive.


    "After the stomach, there''s also the thighs and buttocks," Rhaenyra said, closing her eyes and enjoying the dutiful service.


    Rhaegar obliged, feeling as if he had returned to the days when he had been pampered as a child.


    ...


    The Vale, Gulltown.


    At dusk, glowing clouds stretched across the sky.


    "Roar..."


    A golden dragon soared out of the harbor, gliding halfway across the Narrow Sea.


    On the dragon''s back, Aegon''s head drooped listlessly, his eyes filled with resentment.


    "That wretched bitch of the Vale, making me ride a dragon on patrol every day!"


    He cursed under his breath, striking his aching back.


    Gulltown, one of the five major ports in Westeros, boasted brothels filled with passionate, fiery girls, a different vor from King''s Landing.


    Sunfyre, ignoring his rider''s foul mood, pped his pale pink wings, heading across the Narrow Sea.


    Aegon hung his head, unable to muster any interest in patrolling.


    As they approached the Three Sisters Inds, a sudden thirst struck him.


    With a sh of inspiration, Aegon licked his lips. "Three Sisters Inds, I wonder what the brothels are like there."


    He had heard that the area was chaotic, with smugglers and thieves fighting daily in the harbor.


    Aegon couldn''t stand the loneliness and gave the order, "Sunfyre, let''s change direction."


    He was tired of taking orders from that Vale bitch, as opposed to his constant battles with Rhaegar.


    Grinning, Aegon excused hisziness. "Nothing to do today, might as well wander through a brothel."

 Chapter 370: Dragon’s Dream – Dragon’s Wrath

    Chapter 370: Dragon��s Dream �C Dragon��s Wrath


    Nightfall.


    Dragonstone Ind, Stone Drum Tower.


    In the banquet hall, Rhaegar and Rhaenyra dined with Laena and the twins.


    Laena''s face was slightly haggard from the effort of caring for her two daughters. She wore a long, loose dress, her seven-month-old belly sorge it made movement difficult.


    "Roar..."


    Halfway through the meal, a low dragon roar resonated, a mournful sound echoing across Dragonstone Ind.


    Rhaegar put down his knife and fork, listening intently.


    Renea, one of the twins, spoke up, "It''s Vhagar calling."


    "It sounds sad," Rhaegar noted, slightly stunned.


    The dragon''s roar outside was almost a wail, filled with the sorrow of a weather-beaten soul.


    Rhaenyra paused, chewing thoughtfully. "Vhagar hasn''t sounded like this in a long time."


    Rhaegar looked at the listless Laena, bewilderment in his eyes. His knowledge of Vhagar was mostly theoretical; he had little actual experience with the old dragon. The rider would know best about the dragon''s mood.


    As he gazed at her, Laena sighed with helplessness. "Vhagar is too old, and the years of loneliness have made it mournful."


    As one of the first dragons of the Targaryens, Vhagar was 170 years old. At this age, a dragon begins to decline, growing old and faint. Vhagar had passed through three riders in its lifetime: Queen Visenya, Prince Baelon, and Laena. The first two riders had seen it grow from its prime into adulthood, while Laena had apanied it into old age. Both previous riders had been brave, fearless warriors who rode Vhagar in battles across the realm, creating countless legendary achievements.


    As the years passed, those riders had long since died. Even its childhoodpanions, Balerion and Meraxes, had fallen. Vhagar had lived too long, ousting familiar faces and surrounded only by new ones, leaving it a solitary old dragon.


    Lost in thought, Rhaegar set down his knife and fork, his appetite gone.


    Ba, one of the twins, muttered, "Vhagar hasn''t been like this for a long time. It was only when Meleys and Sea Smoke left that it felt lonely."


    "It probably wants to go to war," Rhaena added.


    Rhaegar remained silent, unable to respond. For an old dragon that had fought for the Targaryens, war was asmon as eating and drinking. Vhagar''s name was synonymous with war in ancient Valyria. Perhaps it was this legacy that had allowed Vhagar to survive countless battles, still fighting for the Targaryens. Its very existence was a testament to its prowess as a war weapon.


    Laena''s eyes lowered as she gently caressed her bulging stomach. "I can sense Vhagar''s emotions. It doesn''t want to be alone on Dragonstone Ind."


    This bond had begun when she first tamed Vhagar at the age of thirteen. When the War of the Narrow Sea broke out, Vhagar''s emotions had resurfaced, constantly affecting her spirit.


    Rhaenyra, deeply empathetic due to her own experiences with pregnancy, tugged at the corner of Rhaegar''s coat.


    Rhaegar drifted off for a moment before joking, "Don''t worry, you''ll be inbor soon, and then you can ride your dragon to help Daemon guard the free city."


    He viewed Lys and Tyrosh as within his grasp and needed to project confidence to reassure his family.


    "How is Daemon doing?" Laena asked, smiling as she changed the subject.


    Rhaegar grinned. "Not too bad."


    Laena''s eyes shed with understanding. "I know him. ''Not bad'' means he''s causing trouble."


    She and her mother had spected about the ambitions of Sea Snake and Daemon. Even without the incident of capturing the wild dragon, the duo would find ways to start a war and draw all of Westeros into invading the Triarchy.


    "He''s been giving me trouble since the day I was born," Rhaegarughed, adding seriously, "War is inevitable. Daemon is doing his best, and Father won''t treat his only brother poorly."


    Laena forced a smile, fatigue surfacing on her brow. Her hand stroked her stomach unconsciously, reflecting her deep worry.


    ...


    Late at night, the lord''s bedroom.


    Rhaegary shirtless and asleep by the firece, his eyes closed.


    Outside the Stone Drum Tower, Vhagar''s wail had faded, leaving a profound silence.


    Inside, the firece''s incense wood had turned to ash, emitting a faint, pulsing firelight.


    Unconsciously, Rhaegar slipped into a brief dream.


    A dark bay, sea winds, and orange mes lighting the sky...


    Hundreds of warships shed, projectiles and scorpion bolts flying haphazardly, faceless figures battling amid the chaos.


    Under the silent night sky, blood and fire wove a haunting melody.


    In his sleep, Rhaegar''s brow furrowed, his fingers trembling slightly as they rested on his strong abdomen.


    ...


    Same time.


    Three Sisters Inds, Bloody Gallows Harbor. (Gallows Gate)


    A group of disheveled bandits with machetes huddled in a corner, shivering from the cold. It was never easy to make a living in this chaotic zone.


    "Did you hear? There''s a Targaryen on Littlesister Ind, riding a dragon cast in gold," a rough hulk with a scarred face said, wiping his nose and smearing it on hispanion while inquiring in a gossipy manner.


    Thepanion, a thin man with a mouthful of yellow teeth, moved away and replied nonchntly, "Nonsense. A lord who rides a dragon would have word spread all over the ind as soon as hends."


    Scarface said enviously, "That boy ran to the brothel for a quickie as soon as hended, more anxious than I was to get off the ship after holding it for half a month."


    "I''ve been to that brothel. It''s full of old woman and the prices are high," Yellow Teeth replied.


    "What do you know? Maybe he likes older ones."


    "I hear all Targaryens are good looking. I wonder if this boy has mixed tastes..."


    The bandits bantered roughly, full of envy as they tried to keep warm.


    Hoo! Hoo!


    In the middle of the night, a fishy sea breeze blew, freezing them to the bone.


    Yellow Teeth hugged himself tightly and shivered as he looked around. Suddenly, his eyes caught something in the bay outside.


    "Look, there are ships on the sea!"


    He hurriedly shoved his drowsypanion beside him.


    Scarface opened his eyes in indignation, but as he followed Yellow Teeth''s dirt-covered finger, his jaw dropped in shock.


    Outlined by the faint firelight on the dim sea was a fleet of warships, their sails decorated with strange and bizarre patterns.


    "A fleet of hired mercenaries!" Scarface shouted, jumping to his feet and drawing his weapon.


    With half of the Narrow Sea''s routes blocked, he wondered where this fleet hade from. Just as the words left his mouth, one of the foremost warships burst into mes, and a projectile hurled a ming stake towards the harbor.


    Boom...


    The wooden stake crashed into the harbor with a loud bang,nding right in the middle of the bandits.


    They didn''t even have time to scream as blood and flesh flew everywhere.


    Wooooooooo--


    A solemn horn blew, and bonfires lit up the sea, revealing no less than fifty fine warships.


    "Attack! Destroy the harbor!" shouted Braavos'' the swordsman, drawing his sword. Battle broke out immediately.


    Rumble��


    Stone-throwers hurled boulders and stakes, bombarding the already filthy harbor and leaving it in ruins.


    The Three Sisters Inds was chaotic, with powerful gangs and smugglers, but they were no match for the well-equipped mercenaries.


    A dozen warships docked, and two thousand mercenaries came ashore, burning, killing, and looting with impunity.


    "The rest of you,e with me to attack Gulltown!" the swordman ordered solemnly.


    He was Pymon, a lean swordsman serving the Sealord of Braavos. His task was to escort the Sealord and lead mercenaries to break the blockade of the shippingnes in the Narrow Sea, silently attacking several ports in Westeros at night.


    The war on the Narrow Sea was worsening by the day, with Myr already captured. Many forces on the continent of Essos sensed the danger and feared the dragons.


    The Sealord of Braavos, unable to remain idle, privately hired mercenaries to intervene in the war.


    Pymon''s fleet had first raided White Harbor, another harbor in the Bite, under the cover of night. After sessfully capturing White Harbor, they turned to attack the weaker Three Sisters Inds.


    Woooooo��


    The horn sounded again, and most of the warships turned and headed for Gulltown in the middle of the Narrow Sea.


    ording to the Moonsinger Priest''s projection, the next few nights would have a south wind, allowing the warships to travel quickly.


    Little Sisters Ind, a certain brothel.


    Aegony on arge, musty-smelling bed next to a mature, voluptuous woman, huffing and puffing with the smell of wine.


    Boom...


    An explosion rang out at the end of the alley, followed by the tter of shattering boards.


    "Hmmm, a bandit fight?" Aegon mumbled, awakened by the loud noise, and drunkenly climbed to his feet.


    He had heard rumors of bandits and smugglers fighting, and with a sense of curiosity, he intended to see what themotion was all about.


    "Kill them and sack the town!"


    Suddenly, there was a shout of fighting and killing from outside the brothel.


    Aegon froze for a second, then scrambled out of bed in a panic.


    The voices outside were not in Common Tongue but in the distinctive Valyrian, an ent that was somewhat familiar.


    "Scum, robbing whores of their money!"


    Aegon''s heart pounded as he hurriedly put on his clothes and ran outside, his quick movements showing he was experienced.


    Bang...


    As soon as he pushed open the door of the tattered room, he collided head-on with a mercenary in brown leather armor.


    Aegon, shocked, raised his knee in panic and mmed it into the mercenary''s groin.


    "Ahhhh!!" The mercenary copsed instantly, covering his crotch and screaming miserably, the sound of breaking eggs faintly audible.


    Aegon''s mouth twitched as he mmed the door, muttering, "Daemon''s moves really work!"


    "Roar..."


    A loud roar echoed as a huge golden dragon soared into the night sky.


    Aegon wasn''t foolish enough to go whoring without staying close to his dragon. He had chosen a secluded brothel, leaving Sunfyre on the beach.


    Overjoyed at the sound, Aegon hastily shoved aside the middle-aged madam, who woke in shock, opened the window, and shouted, "Sunfyre! Come quickly!"


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre hovered overhead, its golden vertical pupils shing viciously as it spat Dragonfire at the chaotic crowd in the street.


    "Ah!... Monster..."


    The golden Dragonfire, like a pir of fire, indiscriminately incinerated both civilians and mercenaries.


    "On guard, there are dragons on the ind!"


    "Crossbows at the ready, aim for the dragon''s eyes..."


    The appearance of the dragon startled the mercenaries who had invaded the ind. They scrambled to hide in the shadows, fearing the dragon''s mes.


    Aegon looked anxiously at Sunfyre and then down at the window. The three-story drop seemed daunting.


    He considered jumping but then retracted.


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre roared excitedly, the Dragonfire setting nearby wooden buildings aze as he shuttled back and forth in the mes, as if dancing.


    With Aegon''s impatient eyes on him, Sunfyre finallynded, its feet crushing the lit wooden houses across the brothel.


    As the dragon descended, the mercenaries dispersed, leaving behind only the shrieks of the prostitutes.


    With tears in his eyes, Aegon scurried down the stairs and climbed onto the dragon''s back.


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre stretched his neck and spat Dragonfire at the fleeing mercenaries, scorching a wide area of the building.


    "Sunfyre, let''s go!" Aegon urged his dragon to fly.


    The Three Sisters Inds had been attacked by mercenaries, likely Braavos'' doing.


    He had to escape quickly!


    Sunfyre, after a final burst of Dragonfire, pped his wings and took off, flying headlong into the night sky.


    Whoosh��


    A fine steel crossbow arrow flew in the dark, aimed at the golden dragon.


    Ding ding ding ding...


    The crossbow arrows struck Sunfyre''s chest and abdomen, creating sparks and leaving tiny craters before being crumpled away. However, many arrows pierced the dragon''s pale pink wing membranes.


    Pfft...


    The crossbow arrows created tiny holes, oozing blood.


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre roared in pain, its wings raising high as its flight wavered.


    "Shoot arrows!"


    The mercenaries in the shadows reloaded their crossbows, aiming for the dragon''s wings.


    Arrows rained down. Sunfyre, furious, elevated his body and pped his wings, trying to deflect the arrows.


    Most arrows were deflected, but a few pierced the wing membranes, leaving holes.


    Jab��


    A crossbow arrow pierced through the tiny scales of the dragon''s wings and lodged into the bones beneath the flesh.


    "Roar!"


    Sunfyre screamed miserably, its body shaking violently it nearly fell.


    Aegon''s face turned pale with fear. "Sunfyre, hold on, let''s fly away!"


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre roared lowly, Dragonfire seeping from his mouth. Maintaining his bnce, he quickly ascended, escaping the crossbow range.


    In the eyes of the pitying mercenaries, the golden dragon disappeared into the night clouds.


    ...


    w Isle, Castle.


    In one of the luxurious bedrooms, Hena, with her silvery blonde curls, wrapped her arms tightly around the covers and slept on her side. The little girl was peaceful and quiet, and the bedroom was filled with a faint scent.


    Suddenly, Hena jolted awake and opened her eyes in shock. "Fire..."

 Chapter 371: The Roar of Dreamfyre!

    Chapter 371: The Roar of Dreamfyre!


    Midnight had passed, and the clouds thickened over Gulltown.


    Wooooo-


    The alert horn red three times in quick session, reverberating throughout the harbor town.


    Grafton Old Castle


    The castle was brightly lit, and through the zed windows, figures could be seen bustling about. Inside, Lord Grimm Grafton, his old body heavy with age, issued urgent orders with a furrowed brow.


    "Prepare yourselves! An unknown fleet has been sighted off in the Bay of Crabs. Notify the harbor to be on maximum alert!"


    Gulltown had been under the Grafton House''s rule for generations, and it was not to be lost without a fight.


    Thud...


    Jeyne descended the stairs quickly, her expression anxious. "Has Prince Aegon returned?" she asked, her long chestnut hair hastily tied back, her beige dress thrown on in a hurry.


    Old Grimm shook his head, his face showing his displeasure. "That Targaryen wastrel is probably in some brothel again."


    Aegon was supposed to patrol the Narrow Sea daily, keeping an eye on Braavos'' movements. His absence now, with an unknown fleet approaching, was deeply troubling.


    Jeyne clenched her teeth but remainedposed. "Send a raven to King''s Landing and w Isle. The fleet in Bay of Crabs is substantial. We need to gather multiple forces to contain the enemy."


    Gulltown was a thriving harbor town butcked a substantial military presence. The first troops Jeyne had mobilized from the Vale had been sent with Rhaegar to attack Myr, leaving the town poorly defended.


    Fortunately, King''s Landing and w Isle were not far, and assembling a fleet of a few thousand men should be enough to keep the enemy at bay.


    "The raven is dispatched," Old Grimm reported, his voice tinged with hesitation. "Should we send a separate message to the king or Princess Hena? The dragons could get here faster."


    Jeyne shook her head decisively. "No, the Vale can defend its own territory."


    Old Grimm retreated silently, realizing his suggestion had been foolish. Of the dragons Prince Rhaegar had deployed, only Aegon''s Sunfyre was affiliated with Gulltown. The King and Princess Helena were not fit for battle, better suited to defend the Gullet, not to fight here.


    ...


    Harbor


    "Attack! Sack the town!"


    Braavos''s mercenary ships stormed into the Bay of Crabs, their stone throwersunching rocks and bombarding the harbor defenses.


    Pymon, one-handed sword in hand, gazed into the deep night with a heavy and urgent heart. The fleet had sailed with divine speed, bypassing the barren Five Fingers Penins and arriving at Bay of Crabs in only a few hours.


    But Gulltown was not White Harbor, nor was it the weakly guarded Three Sisters Inds. Breaching Gulltown would take time.


    The Bay of Crabs''s proximity to ckwater Bay worried Pymon about encountering Targaryen dragons.


    Boom! Boom!


    Three dozen shipsunched boulders in unison, smashing them all over the night.


    Wooooo-


    The harbor''s high-pitched horn red as a dozen warships charged head-on, flying the banner of a yellow tower engulfed in fiery mes. On deck, a patchwork of Vale knights manned the wheels and loaded the scorpion crossbows. The meticulous craftsmanship of scorpion crossbows and the scarcity of steel for the spears made them valuable.


    Thanks to the Grafton House''s wealth, they could afford to equip their warships with these powerful weapons.


    "Crossbow fire!!!"


    A young knight, armor emzoned with the Grafton House crest, shouted loudly, raising his sword to order the fleet. His voice carried far and wide, and a dozen crossbows fired in unison, aiming at the enemy''s approaching warships.


    Boom--


    The steel spears shot violently, tearing through the warships'' nks and sting outrge holes. The ships rocked violently, but Pymon stabilized himself and shouted sternly, "Scorpion crossbows on standby! Fire in conjunction with the catapults!"


    A more wealthy and determined enemy was all Braavos had never feared.


    ...


    Near Runestone


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre roared in agony, its massive wings pping as hot dragon blood flowed from a deep wound. A steel crossbow bolt had pierced its wing, lodging in the bone and severely impairing its flight.


    Only its immense strength had kept it aloft so far.


    Aegon, riding on Sunfyre''s back, nced down at the bleeding wing with a mix of pain and determination. "Sunfyre, hold on a little longer. We''ll be back in Gulltown soon."


    The Three Sisters Inds had been attacked, and Essos mercenaries had sacked the harbor. Gulltown, heavily fortified, seemed to be a safe ce.


    Driven by anger and pain, Sunfyre pushed himself to fly faster. After what seemed an eternity, the white walls of Gulltown came into view.


    Aegon''s face lit up with relief. "Just a little further, Sunfyre. Head for Gull Tower."


    Boom! Boom!


    As they approached, the sounds of battle��shouts, shes, and roaring��echoed from the direction of the harbor.


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre, exhausted, struggled to maintain its bnce. With a final effort, it managed tond hastily, its golden body crashing into the square in front of the Gull Tower. The impact shattered the ground, sending up clouds of smoke and dust.


    ...


    w Isle, Dock


    The night was dark, illuminated only by a dim bonfire at the pier. Severalrge ships were moored, and porters hustled back and forth, loading boxes of goods onto the vessels.


    Lord Bartimos Celtigar observed the scene, his eyes glinting with with a mixture of satisfaction and apprehension.


    "Princess, slow down..."


    "The Lord is busy..."


    The squires'' shouts rang out as Princess Helena, her small legs moving quickly, hurried to the pier.


    Bartimos turned in surprise, bowing respectfully. "Princess, what brings you here sote at night?"


    "Lord Celtigar, prepare the fleet immediately! Gulltown is under attack!"


    Hena was panting, a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead. She had foreseen the danger, a vision of battle mes consuming a g bearing the burning yellow tower of House Grafton of Gulltown.


    "Gulltown sent a message?" Bartimos asked, looking to the old maester beside him.


    The old maester shook his head, indicating there had been no transmission.


    Bartimos sighed in relief and gently said, "Princess, did you have a nightmare?"


    "No!" Hena scrunched up her face in frustration. "I saw the attack on Gulltown. Something must have happened."


    Bartimos nced at therge ship being loaded with cargo and coldly instructed the guards, "Escort the princess back to her room and prepare a cup of hot milk."


    "Yes, my lord," the guards replied, stepping forward. "Princess, you should go back and rest."


    "Get out of my way! I''m not imagining things!" Hena protested, her eyes falling on therge ship. "Bartimos, my brother ordered a blockade of routes and trade along the Narrow Sea. How dare you smuggle supplies!"


    The Narrow Sea War involved the invasion and attack of two continents, and Rhaegar had blocked routes and trade to prevent opportunists from taking advantage. All goods in Westeros were to be detained and supplied to the front lines, with the royal familypensating at the original price.


    Bartimos'' face darkened as he tried to defend himself. "Princess, these supplies are destined for the Stepstones Inds."


    "Liar! The supplies are supposed to be sent to Gulltown and Driftmark Ind. You''re smuggling!" Hena shouted, her introverted nature giving way to anger.


    "Princess..." Bartimos began, tense and defensive.


    "Silence!" Henamanded. "Your crimes are not mine to judge, but with Gulltown under attack, you must send troops to help immediately!"


    After years of Rhaegar''s guidance, Hena trusted her premonitions. It was her duty to assist in the defense of Gulltown.


    A mellifluous dragon roar echoed through the night sky as Dreamfyre descended from the clouds, spreading her snow-white wings to hover over the docks.


    Hena looked up, her resolve unshakable. Dreamfyre, sensing her rider''s emotions, pped its wings andnded gently.


    Boom...


    The dragon''s massive bodynded behind the dock, its slender neck stretched out as it roared angrily at Bartimos and the others.


    "Roar!!"


    A sulfur-scented gale blew, kicking up a cloud of dust. Hena''s silver-gold curls blew back, her white dress billowing in the wind.


    Bartimos'' heart pounded with fear as he stepped back, remembering that the seemingly innocent girl was still a Targaryen, traveling with an adult dragon capable of destruction.


    Hena quickly climbed onto Dreamfyre''s back and fastened the chains of her saddle. She looked down at Bartimos with determined eyes. "Lord Bartimos, next time you underestimate a girl, remember that she may ride a dragon."


    She patted Dreamfyre''s light blue scales and spoke in High Valyrian, "Dreamfyre, fly!"


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre shook its massive body, ran on both feet twice, and took off into the air.


    As they ascended into the clouds, Hena''s voice echoed faintly. "Bartimos, I will tell my father and brother everything you did tonight."


    Below, Bartimos felt a chill run down his spine, his face pale with fear.


    The docks fell into an eerie silence, and no one dared disturb the lord.


    Half a minuteter, a young maester ran from the direction of the castle, urgently calling, "Lord Celtigar, an urgent letter from Gulltown!"


    ...


    Gulltown, Harbor


    "Release the ramming horns and smash their ships!"


    "Attack! Throw out the iron ropes!"


    The two fleets shed in a chaotic melee. Seasoned mercenaries, ustomed to the battlefield, collided with the Gulltown defenders, leaping onto each other''s ships to fight hand-to-hand. Both sides used siege equipment, and many warships were badly damaged, teetering on the brink of sinking.


    The Gulltown fleet fought valiantly, swearing to defend the harbor and dragging the enemy into a bloody battle in the Bay of Crabs. After a grueling fight, the mercenary ships managed to break through, with one vessel making its way towards the harbor.


    Harbor, Watchtower


    Jeyne''s face was tense as she stared intently at the battle in the bay.


    "Lady Jeyne, I suggest you evacuate to Gulltown. It''s safer there," Lord Grimm said uneasily.


    The Gull Tower, a majestic and defensible structure, was originally the territory of House Shett. I was amajestic tower, easily defended and difficult to attack.


    Jeyne sped her hands together and gritted her teeth. "There are no cowards in House Arryn. I won''t hide until thest moment."


    She turned to Gerold Royce and said coldly, "Lord Gerold, we still have five hundred Vale Knights. I leave the defense of the harbor in your hands."


    "The sea battle can be lost, but Gulltown must be defended."


    "As youmand, Lady Jeyne," Gerold replied. He took a deep breath, drew his House sword "Lamentation," and walked away.


    Outside the Watchtower


    Several huge bonfires lit up the night sky. Horses were positioned in front of the harbor, and several archery towers were staggered to form the first line of defense. The Vale Knights, unable to fight effectively on horseback in the harbor, dismounted and took up infantry positions, forming the second line of defense behind the horses.


    Wooooooooo--


    The ear-piercing sound of horns filled the air, brimming with bravado. A mercenary ship sailed into the harbor, its deck crowded with fierce warriors.


    Gerold, his face tense and wearing his ancestral bronze armor, raised his sword and roared, "Arrow towers at the ready! Target the pirates who have disembarked!"


    "Attack! Catapult bombardment!" shouted the mercenary leader, his experience in piging ports evident.


    The mercenary ships closed in, their catapults loaded with oil-soaked boulders. The air was thick with tension, waiting for the first torch to be lit, signaling the start of the battle for the harbor.


    "Roar! ..."


    Suddenly, a pale blue dragon burst through the night sky, its streamlined and well-proportioned body swooping down like a meteor.


    As the dragon appeared, a young girl''s clear cry rang out, "Dracarys!"

 Chapter 372: Fireflies Over the Sky

    Chapter 372: Fireflies Over the Sky


    Boom--


    A tornado of dragonfire descended from the sky, hitting the mercenary ship like a tempest.


    "Get out of the ship!"


    "Run away!"


    The orange and yellow mes, mixed with azure hues, erupted magnificently. The wide deck was instantly aze, engulfing the catapult and hundreds of mercenaries in a sea of fire.


    "Dreamfyre, Dracarys!" Henamanded, her small face tight with determination as she rode on the dragon''s back.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre deftly lifted its wings and spun, unleashing another torrent of dragonfire upon the mercenary ship before soaring back into the air. Below, the mercenary ship was a zing inferno, its three sails reduced to cinders. The mercenaries, engulfed in mes, screamed and leapt into the sea, desperately trying to flee towards the harbor.


    Gerold, guarding the harbor, was overjoyed. "The dragon is here! Guard the harbor tightly!" he shouted.


    Inside the watchtower, Jeyne looked up at the light blue dragon soaring in the night sky and sighed in relief. In a sea battle, the presence of a dragon could tip the scales decisively.


    "Dracarys!" Hena shouted, her face pale as she looked down at the burning ship below. It was her first time in battle, and the thrill of riding a dragon and burning ships was both exhrating and terrifying.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre''s age granted it wisdom. The dragon soared over the sea with pleasure, swooping and spraying dragonfire intermittently. Repeatedly, the dragonfire imed the lives of many mercenaries who had jumped into the water.


    Wooooooooo--


    Near the Bay of Crabs, the exchanges between the two sides grew more intense. The mercenary ships pressed forward, dispersing the guard fleet and closing in on the harbor over the wreckage of sunken ships.


    Seeing the dragon wreaking havoc, the blood-soaked Pymon shouted in anger, "Scorpion crossbows ready! Shoot that dragon down!"


    Two dozen intact warships set up their scorpion crossbows, aiming at Dreamfyre. "Fire!" Pymonmanded.


    With a series of clicks, steel spears shot out, blocking Dreamfyre''s retreat. A spear grazed the dragon''s wings, causing Dreamfyre to shriek in surprise and quickly ascend, dodging the deadly bolts.


    "Dreamfyre, be careful," Hena whispered, lying close to the dragon''s back, eyes closed in trepidation. She had little experience in dragon-riding for battle and was instinctively fearful.


    Dreamfyre dove into the thick clouds, seeking temporary shelter for its rider. Momentster, the dragon swooped down low, spewing dragonfire sideways. The mes sted the sides of several ships in a series.


    "Scorpion crossbows ready!" Pymon raised his one-handed sword high, aiming at the dragon in mid-air.


    ...


    In Front of the Gull Tower


    "Roar..."


    A pained roar echoed as the golden dragon, Sunfyre, struggled to move, resembling a massive, shimmering golden loach.


    Plop!


    A three-foot-long steel crossbow bolt stained with blood ttered to the ground as it was pulled out.


    Exhausted, Aegony on Sunfyre''s pale pink wing membrane, his voice gentle yet weary, "There, Sunfyre, the bolt is out."


    The barbed tip had been lodged deep in the dragon''s keel, requiring forceful removal.


    "Roar..."


    From afar, a mellifluous dragon roar sliced through the night, and the silhouette of a light blue dragon, Dreamfyre, cut across the sky. Aegon looked up, startled. "Hena?"


    He strained to hear the distant sounds of battle echoing from the harbor, chaotic and unrelenting.


    Gulp~~


    Aegon tugged at his hair, muttering worriedly, "We should be able to hold them off."


    His primary duty was to patrol the Narrow Sea and monitor Braavos'' fleet. Now, he bore the responsibility for the enemy''s surprise attack on Gulltown.


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre groaned lowly, its wings syed against the ground as it struggled to move, bright red dragon blood staining its wing. Dragons, especially young ones like Sunfyre, had a vulnerability: their eyes and the thin scales on their wings which couldn��t block close-range military crossbows.


    Sunfyre��s low flight altitude had made it an easy target for the mercenaries.


    "Roar..."


    The distant roar of Dreamfyre was filled with rage. Aegon��s heart raced as he recalled the massive fleet he��d seen near the Three Sisters Inds. Knowing Gulltown''s defenses were insufficientpared to the enemy��s forces, he felt a surge of fear and urgency.


    Climbing onto Sunfyre''s back, Aegon ordered through gritted teeth, "Sunfyre, fly!"


    In this moment of crisis, retreat was not an option.


    He thought anxiously of his foolish sister, inexperienced in dragonbat, "Just don''t get caught by those scorpion crossbows."


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre roared in frustration, its body going limp, heavy breaths escaping him. The pain in its wing was overwhelming, and instinctively, he resisted Aegon��smands.


    Hearing the continued roar and chaos from the harbor, Aegon pped Sunfyre''s back and urged him, "Come on, Sunfyre, we need to get up!"


    Across town, the bay was aze, the night sky lit with fire and smoke. The intensity of the battle was palpable, signaling that a fierce fight was underway.


    Crackle!


    A p of thunder exploded overhead, and the sky churned with dark clouds. The coastal air was thick with the humid embrace of July; rain began to fall, cooling the fiery aftermath below.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre shouted as she dropped through the clouds, her pale blue silhouette meeting the rain and mming into the warships below.


    As the rain intensified, lightning split and thunder roared. Dreamfyre''s flight and the power of her dragonfire waned, her natural aversion to such stormy conditions evident.


    Seizing the opportunity, the mercenary ships sailed into the harbor, their scorpion crossbows aimed at the low-flying dragon.


    Rain washed over the wreckage, diluting the blood that stained the sea and dimming the mes that had engulfed the harbor.


    At the Gull Tower, a drenched Aegon pounded on Sunfyre''s scales, shouting over the storm''s fury, "Sunfyre, fly! We must rise now!"


    "Roar..."


    Fueled by his rider''s emotions and his own instincts, Sunfyre''s anger surged. He pped his wings vigorously, wing at the slippery ground.


    Aegon, driven by a mixture of fear and determination from past humiliations, admonished, "Do not let them look down on us, Sunfyre! We are not cowards!"


    Ever since he''d been terrorized by Aemond''s henchmen, he''d been holding back, barely able to breathe.


    His foolish sister was in front of him, facing the enemy, so he couldn''t cower like a coward.


    With a mighty roar, Sunfyre''s pupils dted with determination. His hind legs kicked into the muddy earth,unching him into the rainy sky.


    "Sunfyre, well done!" Aegon cheered as the dragon shook off the rain and charged toward the harbor. Ahead, the silhouettes of mercenary ships loomed ominously.


    Crack!


    Lightning illuminated the scene, casting a glimpse of a massive shadow across the sky.


    Sunfyre, unnerved, looked up, the oppressive clouds swirling ominously above.


    "Roar--"


    A massive ck dragon burst through the rain curtain, its presencemanding as it sailed through the clouds with eerie grace. On its back, a silver-haired figure sat sternly, his torso bare against the storm, his voice cutting through the tumult: "Dracarys!"


    Cannibal, the ck dragon, unleashed a haunting green dragonfire that clung to the raindrops, transforming the night into a spectacle of ghostly green luminescence.


    The droplets hit the decks of the mercenary ships, igniting the surfaces in an eerie ze. The ghostly mes spread rapidly, engulfing the ships and the surrounding sea in a devastating inferno.


    "Ah! Fire in the rain..."


    "The seawater... the seawater is burning..."


    Mercenaries screamed in agony as the spectral mes clung to their bodies, their skin blistering under the relentless assault, worse than any death they could have imagined.


    In the midst of dodging crossbow bolts, Hena turned at the sound of the new dragon''s roar, her eyes widening in recognition. "Brother!" she cried in shock and relief.


    In front of Gull Tower


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre growled fiercely at Cannibal, distancing herself as if it feared the fiery chaos the ck dragon wrought.


    This protective move shielded Hena, who was attempting to close the distance. mes marked every path Cannibal traversed, posing a threat to the young rider.


    As the heavy rain continued, Rhaegar swept past his siblings, his voice piercing the storm, "Aegon, protect the harbor! Hena, follow me!"


    Haunted by visions of the "mes of War" from his dreams, Rhaegar had awakened to use the ancient blood sorcery of "[Reflections of the Moon]" to peer into the terrible sea battle at Gulltown. This ability has been critical in the crisis.


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre responded with a roar of rm, circling the harbor but keeping his distance. The ck dragon emitted a pungent odor, almost signaling a threat to his own kind.


    Aegon, rain streaming down his face, ceased urging Sunfyre into the fight, his anxiety easing as the dragon rxed.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal''s menacing re turned into action as it swooped down, unleashing torrents of dragonfire. The mercenary ship,den with oil, erupted into a series of violent explosions upon contact.


    "Quickly run!"


    "Hold your positions, ready the Scorpion Crossbows!"


    Faced with the overwhelming presence of a mountain-sized dragon, the mercenaries lost theirposure and scrambled in fear.


    Pymon, the mercenary leader, shouted orders to rally his men, but his shouts were futile against the might of the raging storm dragon.


    "Brother!"


    Hena''s eyes sparkled with realization as she gradually mastered dragon riding and guided Dreamfyre to catch up. She could vaguely feel Rhaegar teaching her through the battle.


    Cannibal roared furiously, swooping low to unleash dragonfire on another intact mercenary ship. His massive body cut through the storm, his presence alone enough to send the ship rocking violently.


    Boom...


    His fiery assault scorched the deck, bathing it in a spectral green ze.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre echoed Cannibal''s path, striking the burning ship with a second wave of dragonfire.


    Hena''s heart raced, her gaze never straying from Rhaegar''s silver-haired figure.


    "Maintain your ground, reload the Scorpion Crossbows!"


    Despite Pymon''s desperate shouts, hismands went unheeded as an ethereal green me engulfed him and his crew, sweeping across the deck with relentless fury.


    From high above, Rhaegar watched the destruction unfold, his violet eyes gleaming with icy determination. The battle at Crabs Bay was nearing its end, with Gulltown''s fleet badly damaged, but the remaining mercenaries holding off.


    Looking back, he saw the mercenary ships engulfed in green mes, their chances of escape dwindling by the second.


    "Follow me!" Rhaegarmanded, leading Cannibal to dive toward the remaining ships in the Bay of Crabs, his dragonfire devastating the enemy lines.


    Hena, close behind Dreamfyre, mirrored her brother''s charge. Together, the siblings obliterated the remnants of the mercenary fleet.


    As they continued their rapid flight, thoughts raced through Rhaegar''s mind, driving the Cannibal to elerate toward the Narrow Sea.


    Hena, without hesitation, urged Dreamfyre to keep pace. Like twin shooting stars under a rain-soaked sky, the dragons sped toward the Bite.


    Arriving under a moonlit sky, they found the Three Sisters Inds shrouded in smoke, with a dozen mercenary ships at anchor.


    "Dracarys!"


    Rhaegar showed no mercy, directing Cannibal to incinerate the ships.


    Wooooooo...


    A distant horn sounded solemnly as a fleet from White Harbor, sails adorned with mermaid emblems, approached. Thebined firepower of the fleet and the high-flying dragons swiftly dealt a crushing blow to the mercenary forces.


    Within moments, the fleet faced devastation, and only a few sought to escape the fiery wrath unleashed by the dragons.

 Chapter 373: War Horn

    Chapter 373: War Horn


    Dawn at Gulltown Harbor


    As the sun rose and the sea calmed, Gulltown Harbor came to life. Two giant dragons, one ck and one light blue, glided down in a synchronized descent, their wings unfurling gracefully like dancers in a choreographed routine.


    Boom...


    Their massive bodies touched down, kicking up clouds of dust and smoke, the impact sending ripples through the air.


    After a tumultuous night, the harbor buzzed with activity. People filled boats and ventured out to salvage what remained of the charred debris that littered the bay.


    "Rhaegar, you''re back atst," Jeyne called, her voice filled with relief and joy. She approached briskly, her skirt swishing around her ankles, having remained vignt through the night, fulfilling her duties as Lady. When she saw Rhaegar, her loved one, aforting peace filled her heart.


    "Jeyne," Rhaegar greeted her, his arms wide open for an embrace. His smile was weary, a shadow of concern creasing his brow as he scanned the crowd, his gaze settling on the slumbering figure of Sunfyre in the background.


    As they embraced, Jeyne, with her sharp instincts, whispered close to his ear, "Aegon took Sunfyre outst night to scout the Bay of Crabs. They managed to burn quite a few remnants of the enemy."


    Rhaegar''s eyes flickered as he nodded, acknowledging her words with a soft, "Uh-huh~!"


    Breaking the embrace, he bypassed the crowd that had gathered to greet him and walked directly to Sunfyre.


    Aegon, nestled beneath the dragon''s wing membrane, shivered involuntarily, awakening from his slumber in a daze. Raising his head, he saw a bare-chested Rhaegar approaching, his expression ferocious.


    "Rhaegar, I''m sorry forst night--" Aegon began, his voice shaking as he scrambled to his feet, trying to apologize.


    But Rhaegar, fueled by a mixture of relief and lingering anger from the night''s dangers, grabbed Aegon by the cor and delivered a powerful blow to his pale face.


    Bang...


    Aegon was thrown backward, hitting the ground hard and rolling twice beforeing to a stop.


    Rhaegar stepped forward, his anger palpable as he grabbed Aegon''s silver hair, forcing his brother''s gaze to meet his own. "I sent you to patrol the Narrow Sea and instead you were in a brothel! Is your brain filled with dragon dung?" he spat, his voice thick with contempt.


    Rhaegar was haunted by the scenes of devastation he had witnessed at White Harbor and the Three Sisters Inds. White Harbor, though quickly defended, had been severely damaged by fire, its fleet nearly destroyed. As one of Westeros'' most important ports, its ability to aid in the Narrow Sea War was now severelypromised.


    Aegon''s cheek swelled rapidly, a bright red mark blooming across his face as he replied in a trembling voice, "I didn''t expect this."


    "What else did you expect?" Rhaegar roared back. "Your carelessness allowed Braavos'' mercenaries to strike at our heart! Because of your recklessness, because you couldn''t keep your pants on, Gulltown nearly fell!"


    Rhaegar''s grip tightened, his eyes burning with anger. "You endangered not only yourself, but Sunfyre, the dragon you grew up with-all for a moment of lust!"


    He saw the horrible situation Aegon had found himself in: trapped in a brothel by mercenaries, barely saved by Sunfyre, who nearly fell to crossbow bolts itself. A Targaryen dead and a fallen dragon - that would have been an uneptable loss.


    Aegon''s gaze was hollow, his body shaking. "Rhaegar, I never intended any of this. I tried to help."


    "You had better realize the gravity of your mistake," Rhaegar pressed, his forehead almost touching Aegon''s as he spoke sternly. "You are my brother, and it is my duty to punish you for your mistakes, you should not die to some lowly mercenary."


    "I''m sorry," Aegon murmured, his head bowed, overwhelmed by the weight of his actions.


    "Prepare yourself," Rhaegarmanded, his tone unyielding. "You will leave Gulltown to Hena��smand. You and I are going to the front lines."


    With those final words, Rhaegar turned and walked away, leaving Aegon to gather himself amidst the dust and the dawn.


    ...


    Dragonstone Ind


    Knock knock...


    A soft knock sounded outside the lord''s bedroom door. Inside, Rhaenyray draped over a couch, caught in the limbo between sleep and wakefulness. She had slept lightly these days, stirred by the sound of Rhaegar''s nightly departures.


    "Enter~" she called softly, her voice tinged with a sleepy haze.


    Crunch-


    The door creaked open as Sara, her handmaiden, entered. She was bncing a breakfast tray in one hand and a letter in the other. Her brow was furrowed in concern. "Princess, there''s a secret letter for you from Lys."


    "Lys?" Rhaenyra''s interest piqued, her sleepiness fading. She rarely visited the free trade city-states and certainly didn''t cultivate foreign alliances like her adventurous Uncle Daemon. "A letter from Lys?" she repeated, wondering who could be writing to her from there.


    Sara set the breakfast tray on a nearby table and carefully slit open the letter, making sure it was safe from any hidden dangers. Rhaenyra noticed the seal on the letter - two intertwined roses, an unusual emblem that piqued her curiosity.


    After inspecting the contents, Sara handed the letter to Rhaenyra with a puzzled look on her face.


    Taking the letter, Rhaenyra unfolded it and read quietly. The contents were so intriguing that she read through it several times, her brow furrowing slightly with each pass. Finally, she closed the letter, a mysterious smile ying on her lips.


    "A strange friend," she mused aloud, her curiosity obviously piqued by the unexpected correspondence.


    ...


    Time passed and half a month passed.


    Bloodstone Ind


    Nestled against the cliffs of a barren mountain and backed by the beach, a striking structure with a pitch-ck exterior rose ominously. This massive building, in the shape of a bloated dragon lying prostrate on the cliffs, overlooked the vast sea. Upon closer inspection, the dragon''s body served as a three-story castle, its head as a watchtower, and its sprawling wings as armories and warehouses.


    A massive circle of towering ck walls encircled the perimeter, interspersed with a dozen dragon towers that doubled as archery towers and other defensive fortifications.


    ess to ck Stone Castle was daunting; one must first climb the steep, barren mountain. The castle epassed the entirety of the mountain''s cliffs, with only one narrow entrance through bronze gates that could hold a hundred people at most, crammed tightly together.


    Thus, any enemy who wanted to attack ck Stone Castle could only send small teams at a time, making it a fortress that was easy to defend but difficult to attack.


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre hovered in the air, his golden scales shimmering in the sunlight, a stark contrast to the dark facade of ck Stone Castle.


    On the beach below, in the shadow of the ck walls and in the castle''s vestibule, thousands of soldiers stood at attention, their eyes filled with awe as they gazed upon Dragonstone Castle. They had witnessed its construction - a marvel of speed and magic.


    The giant dragon had scorched the mountain''s vegetation and sted the cliffs with dragonfire until the rocks melted into a smooth surface. Thousands of workers and soldiers scaled the cliffs with loads of dragon dung and stones, using mysterious magic to fuse them into solid ck dragonstone and quickly and efficiently build the massive castle.


    On the ck wall stood Aegon, lost in thought as he gazed out upon the fortress.


    Laenor put an arm around Aegon''s shoulder and asked warmly, "How does it feel to have a castle of your own?"


    "Not bad," Aegon replied, his voice tinged with resentment. "Cousin, am I inplete exile here?"


    While the castle was indeed impressive and majestic, Aegon couldn''t help but wonder about the practicalities of living on such a remote ind. "What will I eat and drink here?" he wondered aloud.


    Laenor, always the shrewd one, replied with a knowing smile, "Once we defeat the Triarchy, the Stepstones will be a critical maritime hub between the realm and Essos. Just collecting taxes here will make you rich beyond measure."


    As a Vryon, Laenor understood the immense wealth the Triarchy had amassed during their control of the Isles of the Stepstones. He truly believed that Aegon was fortunate: a second son granted such strategically valuable territory was rare.


    In fact, Daemon had originally married Lady Rhea only in the hope that his descendants might inherit Runestone, but he never officially held any territory of his own. Though once dubbed the "King of the Narrow Sea," Daemoncked a supportive older brother to help him build a castle and eventually returned to King''s Landing in disgrace.


    ...


    Twin Castles


    In the austere hall of the newly named Twin Castles, Rhaegar sat alone in the only chair. The castle on Bloodstone Ind wasplete, while its counterpart on Grey Gallows Ind was still in the nning stages. These fortresses would guard the gateway to the Stepstones, standing like watchful siblings over the treacherous waters.


    There was anotheryer to the name. Rhaenyra, who bore twins, had inspired the name of the castles, symbolizing both protection and new beginnings.


    "Prince, Vntis has agreed to send troops; they''re joining forces with Lord Corlys," Tormund announced as he entered the hall, his demeanor serious.


    Rhaegar, holding a letter from Dragonstone Ind, answered without looking up. "Has Daemon set sail?"


    The strategic positioning of the Twin Castles had solidified the defense line across the Stepstones. Daemon and the Sea Snake had divided their forces, each blockading the seas near Tyrosh and Lys.


    The fleets from these city-states, reluctant to engage directly with dragons, adopted guerri tactics reminiscent of those used during the First Dornish War. However, unlike the Dornish who had been willing to sacrifice everything, the people of Lys and Tyrosh could not bear such severe losses.


    Rhaegar''s strategy was ruthless yet effective: he used two dragon-supported fleets to sever the sea links between the city-states, isting and overpowering them one by one. The goal was not merely to attack the cities, but to strike directly at their hearts, a true disy of power designed to break the enemy''s spirit.


    "Daemon has already left. I''ve also coordinated with Pentos and Princess Rhaenys to send reinforcements to block the Tyroshi Sea," Tormund confirmed.


    Known for its political turmoil and as a haven for mercenaries, Tyrosh relied heavily on collusion between its Archon, wealthy merchants, and corrupt officials to oppress its lower-ss citizens.


    Rhaegar''s immediate focus was Lys, where he sought to recapture the wild dragon Morghul. His strategy for Tyrosh was to encircle but not engage, using the fall of Myr and Lys as a warning to incite an uprising against their oppressive rulers and force them to yield to the Iron Throne.


    Rhaegar handed the letter to Tormund and mused aloud, "Braavos has struck; Dorne remains a wild card. We must secure Lys quickly."


    After the decisive battle at the Bay of Crabs, Braavos''s mercenaries had been decimated. Yet, the Sealord Ferrego Antaryon denied any involvement, maintaining a facade of neutrality.


    Frustrated but not discouraged, Rhaegar knew that the real conflicty not in Braavos but in securing control of the Narrow Sea.


    He now had a slight advantage. Braavos was unlikely tomit more forces soon, buying precious time for his campaign against the notoriously elusive and dangerous Dorne, whose lords, the Martells, lurked like vipers in the sand, ever ready to strike the Iron Throne.


    Tormund read the letter, his expression changing to one of mild astonishment, and he offered a slight smile. "If this can really be aplished, securing Lys will be much easier."


    "Exactly," Rhaegar confirmed, his gaze sharp. Then he abruptly changed the subject. "Bartimos of w Isle has been escorted to King''s Landing. The Small Council is now deliberating whether to charge him with smuggling or treason."


    Bartimos Celtigar had been involved in illicit trade with the free city-states, actions that could very well merit a charge of treason, punishable by death.


    However, given the wartime demands on the Celtigar House''s resources, a final decision on his fate had yet to be made.


    Tormund paused, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "What are you suggesting?"


    Rhaegar''s voice took on a serious tone. "Tormund, do you wish to restore your family''s name?" Skr and Tormund were siblings and bastards descended from Bartimos'' lesser-known offspring, carrying the Celtigar blood.


    Lost in thought for a moment, Tormund finally pursed his lips and shook his head. "Prince, I have grown ustomed to a simpler life."


    He understood the underlying implications: the execution of Bartimos could potentially implicate his rightful heir, paving the way for a less direct descendant like himself to ascend to power on w Ind - a maneuver not umon among the nobility.


    This tactic, facilitated by Rhaegar''s influence in the Small Council and his powers as regent, was well within their means. Tormund, however, was reluctant to let Rhaegar suffer any political consequences and had no interest in entangling himself with the Celtigar House.


    Rhaegar studied him for a moment, then his smile faded. "Forget it then, I won''t press the matter."


    He had hoped to reward his loyal confidant while consolidating Targaryen control over the maritime assets by cing w Isle under a friendly regime. If Tormund was unwilling to im his birthright, perhaps supporting Bartimos''s eldest son would be the easier route.


    In the end, it mattered little who ruled w Isle; the real importance was to ensure that its ruler was aligned with his strategic interests.

 Chapter 374: Morghul See Daylight Again

    Chapter 374: Morghul See Daylight Again


    A few dayster...


    "Attack!!!"


    In the turbulent waters of the disputednds, several warships flying the g of the Triarchy were brutally ambushed. They endured a relentless onught as a muchrger fleet encircled them, firing fireballs from catapults that set the sea aze.


    "Roar..."


    The air shook with the roar of a dragon. A light silver dragon soared above, its scales glittering against the backdrop of smoke and fire.


    Aboard the dragon, Laenor, his face aglow with the thrill of battle, shouted themand: "Dracarys!"


    With a majestic swoop, the dragon, Sea Smoke, unleashed a torrent of orange mes that consumed the masts and sails of the enemy ships below.


    As the dragon rained fire, the fleet activated its ramming horns, smashing into the sides of the Triarchy''s ships as grappling hooks flew,tching onto the enemy ships and dragging them into chaos.


    The battle was stark in its disparity; the presence of a dragon tipped the scales overwhelmingly. It was more of a massacre than a battle, and it was over quickly.


    Within the hour, the forces under them methodically cleared the remnants of the battle from the water.


    "Haha, let''s go!" Laenor, exhrated by the victory, pped Sea Smoke''s back and ordered the dragon to circle back.


    After several such skirmishes, Laenor had found a wild joy in the heat of battle, the sensation of unleashing fiery destruction exhrating beyondpare.


    In his fervor, he had all but forgotten his former lover, "Cole," who was conspicuously absent from the battlefield - this Cole being a distinct individual, not to be confused with Kingsguard Criston Cole.


    ...


    Bloodstone Ind, Twin Castles


    In the vast hall of Twin Castles, Rhaegar paced over a sprawling map of the Narrow Seaid out on the floor. The markings of the three-headed red dragon dominated the location of Myr, while the stepstones bore the emblem of their base.


    Around the free-trade city-states of Lys and Tyrosh, aplex web of sea serpents, towers, and purple grapes was meticulously arranged to represent the tightening grip of Rhaegar''s forces around these crucial areas.


    "After more than a month of preparation, our naval strength is formidable," Rhaegar mused with a confident smile. "Soon the Triarchy will fall into our domain."


    His expression softened as he nced up at the hall''s banners, emzoned with the three-headed red dragon. "My children will inherit vast territories."


    A message from Rhaenyra had brought more good news: the twins she was carrying were active, and she believed they were trying tomunicate.


    The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the hall. Aemond led the way, nked by Aegon and Laenor.


    Laenor, always the jovial one, announced cheerfully, "Rhaegar, we''ve cleared the Triarchy''s pirates from the sea, and many wealthy merchants from Myr and Tyrosh have fled their cities by ship."


    His admiration for Rhaegar had only deepened after several battles, and he hade to appreciate his cousin''s talent for strategies that not only won military victories, but also the hearts of his followers.


    With the strategic stronghold of the Twin Castles, their logistical worries were nil, allowing their forces to engage freely and with high morale, especially during the sieges that scattered the notorious pirate fleets of the three free city-states, creating a profound sense of aplishment and honor among the troops.


    Rhaegar''s smile widened as he gave his next instruction, "If anyone tries to escape, let them. Make it spectacr." His strategy was clear: he wanted to take thriving territories, not ruins. The fleeing wealthy would likely return, ensuring continued prosperity and trade.


    Laenor nodded enthusiastically, barely containing his amusement.


    At that moment, Tormund interjected, "Prince, the Tiger and Elephant Parties of Vntis have reconciled their differences and agreed to send troops to secure Lys."


    Vntis, an ancient city struggling under the shadows of Braavos and Pentos, sought rejuvenation through warfare, propelled by the ambitious Tiger Party, while the conservative Elephant Party prioritized trade.


    Rhaegar pondered briefly before asking, "What of Daemon and Lord Corlys''s efforts?"


    Tormund replied, "Lord Corlys coordinates with the Vntene as he secures the Summer Sea, alongside fleets from Hightower, The Arbor, and the Lannisters."


    He added seriously, "Daemon has joined forces with Princess Rhaenys and the Prince Pentos and is negotiating to force the Archon of Tyrosh to surrender."


    Aegon, unable to contain hisughter at theplexity and audacity of their maneuvers, quickly covered his mouth.


    Rhaegar, unfazed by the interruption,manded firmly, "See that both sides elerate their operations. I want our forces within the city walls in three days."


    "As you wish," Tormund confirmed with a respectful nod.


    ...


    Lys, the Dome Dragonpit


    Under the cover of night, dark clouds enveloped the moon, casting deep shadows across thendscape. From within the Dome Dragonpit of Lys, a painful roar echoed, its reverberations slipping through the bronze gate and into the cold night air.


    The roar was filled with fury, yet tinged with a distinct weakness - a clear sign that Morghul had been severely mistreated.


    "Rotten gambler, we''re almost there," Hugh whispered to hispanions, his voice barely audible over the howling wind. His expression was taut with anticipation and fear.


    Two hundred meters from the bronze gate, a long line of would-be dragon tamers stretched out, nked by sword-wielding mercenaries. Tonight was a pivotal moment for dragon taming, drawing recruits from far and wide.


    Denys shivered in the cold, trying to calm his nerves. "Don''t rush, there''s still a dozen or so ahead of us," he trilled nervously.


    "That old man wants us go to now, imagine riding a dragon," Hugh rasped boldly, his eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and bravado.


    Silver Denys gave him a wide-eyed look. "I just saw the old priest and his disciples go in. Chances are, you and I won''t even get a turn," he muttered.


    In his heart, Denys felt a secret relief at the possibility of not facing the dragon. Feeling the heavy purse hidden in his robes, he wrestled with his anxiety.


    Having already risked his fortune, Denys was not eager to risk his life on a dragon''s back.


    ...


    Inside the Dragonpit


    The cavernous Dragonpit was lit by a huge bonfire, casting a bright halo of light that pierced the surrounding darkness and gloom.


    In the deepest part of theiry Morghul, a mighty dragon, incapacitated and bound by chains around its neck and feet. Its eyes drooped helplessly, his breathing heavy andbored. The restraints and its injuries had driven it to a state of manic distress, leaving it both physically and mentally exhausted in time.


    Near the bronze gate, a tense assembly gathered around the bonfire. Bambaro, visibly agitated, took cover behind a group of mercenaries. An elderly figure, bent and frail, was in the midst of a grim ritual, holding a dagger above a silver-haired youth.


    In one swift motion, he sliced the youth''s throat. Blood spurted out and collected in a copper basin with a chilling resonance. The old man was Ross, a priest skilled in the dark arts of blood magic.


    As he chanted, Ross tossed rare ingredients into the basin amidst a chilling gust of wind. Nearby, a naked young many on his back, his expression nk as he stared at the ceiling. His features were striking - indigo eyes and a shaved head speckled with silver stubble.


    After finishing his incantation, Ross dipped his hands into the blood-filled basin and began to trace arcane symbols across the young man''s body. These were not mere touches, but precise strokes that formed Valyrian symbols representing fire, blood, wisdom, and other mystical elements.


    Soon the young man''s body was covered in these ominous, blood-red symbols, extending to his scalp. Ross whispered a final incantation, urging in a low voice, "Belle, prove your noble lineage."


    The young man, now identified as Belle, blinked slowly as his senses seemed to return. Under Ross''s constant prodding, Belle rose and walked naked toward Morghul, the bound dragon in the depths of the cave.


    Bambarro stepped forward, his curiosity piqued. "Can he really tame the wild dragon, Lord Priest?"


    "Perhaps," Ross replied, his voice hoarse, his eyes clouded with uncertainty. "I have woven around him a spell once used by ancient dragonlords to help their heirs tame dragons. However, Ick the key incantations and know only fragments of the ritual."


    The oue now depended on the dragon''s weakened will and whether Belle could assert his dominance.


    Bambarro watched, stunned by the audacity of the act, as if he were taking part in a high-stakes gamble.


    His gaze shifted back to the few remaining youths in red robes and shaven heads, and he understood the harsh reality: with many candidates prepared to tame dragons, the loss of one was a risk they were willing to take.


    ...


    Outside the Bronze Gate


    Hundreds of would-be dragon riders milled about under the night sky, the sea breeze ruffling their cloaks as they whispered nervously among the mercenaries'' shadows.


    Hugh shifted restlessly, muttering under his breath, "Damn it, when will it be my turn?" His dreams of riding a dragon back to Westeros as a noble lord were growing impatient by the minute.


    Beside him, Silver Denys wiped his runny nose and sighed heavily. Despite his ambitions, a nagging feeling told him that even if he managed to mount a dragon, it might not end well. "Noble money isn''t easy toe by," he mused, remembering the hard lessons of a youth spent gambling.


    Suddenly, the eerie silence was shattered by a deep, resounding roar that echoed across the sea.


    Boom!


    The bronze gate slowly creaked open, releasing a st of searing air that rippled through the gathered crowd.


    "Roar..."


    A massive dragon head emerged from the darkness, its mouth spewing a cloud of ash-gray fire into the sky. The creature''s vast, vaporous gray wings unfurled as it crawled out, its body a tapestry of silver and ck scales that shimmered ominously in the moonlight. It looked like a beast summoned from the abyss.


    All eyes were riveted to this magnificent and terrifying creature.


    On the dragon''s broad back sat a blood-stained figure.


    "Roar..."


    The dragon, identified as Morghul, let out a roar of sheer indignation. The steel shackles around its neck rattled loudly, a stark reminder of its recent captivity.


    "By TheSmith, the wild dragon has been tamed!" Hugh eximed in disbelief, his voice trembling with awe.


    Denys breathed a sigh of relief, but remained wary as he watched the formidable Morghul and its rider. Something didn''t seem right. The dragon seemed barely controlled, if at all.


    "Morghul, quiet!"manded Belle from atop the dragon, his grip tight on the creature''s gray scales, his indigo eyes wide with rm.


    "Roar..."


    Morghul paid no heed, thrashing violently as it climbed out of the dragonpit, wings scraping the ground for leverage.


    From a safe distance, Denys��s rm turned to panic. He grabbed Hugh��s arm, urging, "Quickly follow me!"


    "Why should we run?" Hugh asked, stunned by the spectacle.


    "Don��t wait around to die," Denys snapped, seizing the moment to dash away while the mercenaries were distracted.


    At that moment, Morghul let out a furious roar and took to the sky uncontrobly, spewing more of its ash-gray dragonfire.


    The scene became chaotic as the dragonfire fell like a deadly mist, engulfing mercenaries and dragonseeds alike in the mes.


    Pushing his legs to the limit, Denys dove into a nearby sewer.


    Ssh!


    Someone else hit the water even faster, causing a huge ssh.


    "Roar..."


    Morghul continued its rampage, circling back to unleash more fire upon the unfortunate souls below.


    "No! No!" Belle��s cries echoed over the chaos as she clung desperately to the dragon, struggling to steer the uncontroble beast.


    From under the safety of the bronze gate, Bambaro and Roth watched the spectacle unfold. "Are the scorpion crossbows ready?" a mercenary called out.


    "Idiots, it took forever to tame that beast; I won''t let it be shot down!" Bambaro barked back, frustrated but cautious.


    "Give it time," Rose advised, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of fear and fascination. "It''s retaliating, holding a grudge. It needs to wear off."


    "Obey!"


    Belle was thrown from the dragon''s back and wrapped his arms around its back scales in a death grip.


    Morghul, still in turmoil, soared into the night, its wings beating mightily as it tried to escape into the sky of Lys.

 Chapter 375: Caraxes vs. Morghul

    Chapter 375: Caraxes vs. Morghul


    Perfumed Garden


    The tranquility of the night was abruptly shattered by the roar of a restless dragon, jolting the rich and powerful from their revelry into a state of high alert.


    Security personnel quickly mobilized, weaving through the crowds to restore calm amidst the sudden turmoil.


    Surrounding the lush gardens were opulent penthouses, their balconies connected by an elegantly crafted open-air promenade.


    Dressed in sheer, flowing gowns, Johanna leaned against the railing, her gaze calm yet distant as she watched the chaos unfold below. Slowly, as themotion died down, the atmosphere began to calm.


    A petite maid approached, her steps hesitant, and stood demurely on the promenade, her head bowed in deference.


    Johanna''s eyes flickered with curiosity, her voice soft as she asked, "What news from Dragonstone Ind?"


    The handmaiden, clearly nervous, murmured, "A delegation will be disembarking tonight, My Lady."


    "Well done," Johanna replied with a nod, her posture changing to one of regal authority as she turned. With a graceful turn of her waist, she instructed, "The usual protocol, then - a sack of gold. And guard the manor for me."


    The maid''s face brightened with gratitude as she thanked Johanna and withdrew.


    Alone now, Johanna took a roll of white paper and a quill from her robes and considered her next move. "Dorne... Lys, what shall I write?" she mused quietly.


    Having secured a powerful new ally, she was aware of the delicate bnce of power at y. Johanna knew she had to tread carefully, crafting her words to secure her position without revealing too much - always leaving herself a way out, a necessary precaution when dealing with forces that might prove too formidable.


    ...


    Lys, Deserted Beach


    Under the cover of a dimly lit night, several small boats glided silently toward the shore, propelled by a gentle sea breeze.


    Plop...


    A dozen figures dressed in ck jumped into the shallow water. They quickly dragged their boats ashore and hid them among the jumble of rocks and reefs that dotted the shoreline.


    The leader of the group pulled back his hood to reveal unruly curls of brown hair. With a conspiratorial grin, he whispered, "<em>Vr morghulis</em><i> (</i>All men must die)."


    The rest of the group responded in a hushed, unified murmur, "<em>Vr dohaeris</em><i> (</i>All men must serve)."


    ...


    Lys, Deserted Beach


    Three days had passed in the blink of an eye.


    A fleet of a dozen warships had gathered on a remote ind off the coast of Lys, forming a formidable temporary station. Thousands of well-equipped soldiers secured the coastline, their presence a stark contrast to the tranquil surroundings of palm trees and lush vegetation that dotted the ind''s small hill.


    At the top of the hill, a group of soldiers dressed in seahorn-emzoned armor had erected a simple tent. Inside, the Sea Snake, d in his distinctive silver and gray armor, gathered around a sand table. He was joined by severalmanders whose armor bore the insignia of various noble houses: white towers topped with mes, red crabs, and roaring lions.


    "My lords, we have secured the nearby seas, so a full assault can now be considered."


    The Sea Snake''s voice was deep as he picked up a dragon figurine and positioned it on the Lys spot on the sand table.


    "Lord Corlys, Prince Daemon is still engaged with the Archon of Tyrosh, so we might need to dy our ns."


    A blue-eyed young man with tinum blonde curly hair and a resolute expression spoke up. His chest armor bore the Red Crab emblem of House Celtigar from w Isle.


    The Sea Snake nced at him and responded indifferently, "Daemon will not seed, Lord Clement."


    Clement Celtigar, the new Lord of w Isle, was taken aback by hisment.


    With Bartimos imprisoned in the dungeon of the Red Keep, the eldest son of House Celtigar was themander of the Celtigar forces in the Narrow Sea War.


    Clement hesitated before replying, "Indeed, Prince Daemon seems to be dying the battle.


    Daemon, in conjunction with Pentos and Myr, had encircled the Tyrosh Sea on three fronts, causing dys in the transmission of news.


    It was known that Daemon intended to take Tyrosh without bloodshed and move directly into the free-trade city-state.


    "Roar��"


    "Roar��"


    In the middle of the discussion, dragon roars echoed from afar, and several massive dragons soared through the skies.


    A pair of broad wings, ck as charcoal, enveloped the ind as the immense body of the dragon Cannibalnded gracefully.


    Rhaegar, with his silver hair and ck robes, dismounted from the dragon��s back and ascended the hill.


    Sunfyre and Sea Smoke, ridden by Aegon and Laenor respectively,nded shortly after, their armored riders following close behind.


    "Prince��"


    The group ofmanders greeted him with respect.


    The Sea Snake, unsmiling, calmly acknowledged, "Prince."


    "Thank you for your efforts, my lords," Rhaegar responded with a nod.


    His gaze swept over the sand table, and pointing at the representation of Lys, he stated firmly, "I��ve already instructed Daemon to prepare for a general attack. We''ll join forces with Vntis and march tomorrow to besiege the city. Tonight, we reorganize our armaments."


    Sea Snake, maintaining his serious demeanor, added, "Lys has been sending out a steady stream of ravens, mostly towards Braavos and Sunspear."


    War involved more than just swords and spears; it also entailed ravens and intelligence.


    Braavos had remained silent for a while, making it uncertain when they might intervene.


    Dorne had yet to make a move and was surely plotting.


    Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed as he considered the map, "For now, Braavos poses no threat; there''s been no movement of troops."


    He then shifted his finger to Dorne''s territory around Sunspear, murmuring, "I suspect Qoren has already positioned his forces, waiting for us to besiege the city-state before circling the Summer Sea to strike us from behind."


    Alternatively, they might target theyered defenses of the Stornds.


    Sea Snake analyzed, "If that��s the case, our garrison on the Stepstones Inds must be vignt against a potential attack from behind."


    Rhaegar smiled confidently, "I''ve already issued orders that if the Dornish fleet dares approach, we shall repeat the War of the Hundred Candles."


    In the Fourth Dornish War, House Martell sent a hundred warships across the Cape Wrath aiming tond and infiltrate the Stornds covertly.


    But Jaehaerys I, mounted on his dragon alongside his sons Aemon and Baelon. Vermithor, Caraxes and Vhagar, led the attack.


    From dawn till dusk, they set aze all hundred ships, lighting them up like a hundred candles in the night.


    ...


    Tyrosh Sea


    Connected by several neighboring inds, dozens of battleships formed a dense line of defense.


    On the beach of one such ind, Daemon''s expression was frosty, a letter clenched in his hand.


    At that moment, this Rogue Prince was d in pitch-ck dragon scale armor and a crimson cloak, standing against the briny sea breeze.


    Several mercenary group leaders, hired by Pentos, lingered at the edge, reluctant to approach the formidable Daemon.


    They knew of his temperamental nature and preferred not to provoke his wrath or be used to vent his anger.


    "Heh, uneducated scum."


    With a sneer, Daemon tore the letter into shreds.


    Tyrosh had refused to surrender, and the letter contained insults, mocking him as a "homeless" Targaryen.


    Daemon, holding his helmet under his arm and ignoring the mercenary leaders, dered arrogantly, "I''m going to patrol on my dragon. Reorganize your armaments."


    With those words, he strode off into the distance, his presence exuding a palpable sense of authority.


    "Roar..."


    A huge scarlet dragon swooped across the sky, its broad wings beating slowly as itnded on the beach.


    By the time the mercenary leaders gathered their wits, Daemon was already mounted on the dragon''s back, soaring into the pale expanse of the sea.


    ...


    "Roar��"


    Caraxes''s voice was shrill, his serpentine body soaring towards the western edge of Tyrosh.


    Daemon''s expression was grim, the taunt "homeless" reverberating incessantly in his mind.


    Following the deaths of his father, Baelon, and his grandfather, Jaehaerys, King''s Landing had fallen into the hands of his brother, Viserys.


    From that moment, Daemon felt marginalized, an outsider.


    Now, King''s Landing belonged to his brother Viserys, to his niece Rhaenyra, to his nephew Rhaegar...


    Even to the unborn child in Rhaenyra''s womb.


    There was nothing that really belonged to him.


    With a solemn gaze, Daemon murmured, "Brother, I will carve out a realm of my own."


    King''s Landing, his former wife��s Runestone, the itinerant Pentos, the transient Driftmark Ind...


    None of these were his. He was determined to conquer and previously unimed by the Targaryens, for the sake of his future heir.


    Sensing his rider��s emotions, Caraxes''s broad scarlet wings pped fiercely, elerating their flight.


    Their mission was clear: to make an example of Tyrosh.


    Unnoticed, the azure sky began to fill with clouds, and the warm sea breeze grew moist.


    Tick!


    A raindrop fell onto Daemon��s hand. He frowned, "Is it raining?"


    The Disputed Lands, near the sweltering Summer Sea, often experienced sudden winds and rain.


    Locally known as "passing rain". These were rapid downpours brought by passing cumulonimbus clouds.


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, Caraxes tensed, its amber eyes alert, a warning roar escaping its throat.


    Daemon��s expression shifted as his hand instinctively reached for the sword at his waist, his eyes scanning the surroundings.


    Caraxes''s cries signaled imminent danger, reminiscent of the time they were ambushed by his six-year-old nephew, in the rainy day, nearly resulting in fatal consequences for both dragon and rider.


    "Roar!"


    In an instant, a vast silver and ck dragon shadow darted through the thinning clouds, its huge scarlet mouth lunging at them.


    Daemon snapped his head back as a fishy-smelling gust hit his face.


    For a moment, he was unnerved by the size of the attacking dragon''s maw��easily three timesrger than Caraxes''s.


    "Roar��"


    With a defiant shriek, Caraxes dodged nimbly, unable to restrain a burst of scarlet dragonfire.


    Boom��


    The two dragons shed mid-air, Caraxes��s dragonfire striking the side of the adversary''s neck directly.


    "Roar��"


    The silver and ck dragon roared in pain, its misty gray wings pping powerfully as it ascended sharply into the sky.


    It was only then that Daemon recognized the dragon, saying calmly, "Morghul!"


    This was the Smoking Sea Wild Dragon he had heard of, with its silver and ck scales and gray wing membranes, topped by an unusuallyrge head...


    At first nce, the dragon''s head seemed to belong to an old dragonparable to Vhagar.


    Upon closer inspection, however, the wild dragon measured just over 50 meters, slightly smaller than Caraxes in his prime.


    "Morghul, Dracarys!" a voicemanded in High Valyrian, unfamiliar and authoritative.


    "Roar��"


    Morghul, now high among the clouds, turned once more. Its vertical pupils gleamed blood-red as it dove toward Caraxes, spewing a torrent of grayish dragonfire from its gaping maw.


    "Roar��"


    Caraxes, exuding hostility, sharply ascended, stretching his long neck to spit a stream of dragonfire.


    Dodging Morghul��s attack, Caraxes gained the upper hand, and his scarlet dragonfire struck his opponent��s nk.


    Caraxes''s dragonfire zed as red as blood, streaming fiercely.


    Daemon��s face remained expressionless, but the pent-up rage within him churned.


    His gaze then caught sight of a red-robed priest in Morghul��s back.


    "So, it has indeed been tamed," Daemon noted grimly, a wry smile forming on his lips.


    "Fly higher!"


    At hismand, Caraxes ceased his fire attack, curled up, and darted into the clouds.


    The rain...


    It drizzled lightly over the sea, clearing the skies.


    "Morghul, fly!"


    The priest, his indigo eyes peeking from beneath his hood, looked anxious as he urged the dragon upward.


    Morghul roared dully and, with a violent shake of his burly body, pped his wings and soared higher.


    The priest,cking a saddle, clutched at the dragon��s scales with both hands, struggling to maintain his grip.


    Pfft...


    Morghul burst through the clouds, scattering the fine raindrops.


    "Kill it!"


    An explosion followed, marked by the Blood Wyrm''s piercing roar and a swirling gust of wind.


    The priest turned his head just in time to see a scarlet dragon shadow looming.


    "Roar!"


    Caraxes charged swiftly, his broad scarlet wings spread wide like des, his fearsome maw open wide to mp down on Morghul''s neck.


    "Roar��"


    Morghul roared, its body convulsing as he turned and unleashed a st of dragonfire.


    Unyielding, Caraxes clung close, its serpentine body entwined with its foe��s, like a bloodthirsty blood wyrm.

 Chapter 376: Mad Dragon Appearance

    Chapter 376: Mad Dragon Appearance


    Two colossal dragons, one silver-ck and the other scarlet red, shed mid-air, their sharp ws shing furiously as scales shattered and blood spewed.


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes, the more formidable dragon, locked his deadly jaws onto his opponent��s neck, causing a cascade of blood to erupt with a shrill shriek.


    Sensing imminent danger, Morghul unleashed his dragonfire in a desperate attempt to force Caraxes to release his grip.


    Boom!


    The gray, smoke-like dragonfire engulfed Caraxes'' neck, the heat intensifying its ferocious bite.


    While young dragons are vulnerable to such mes, an adult dragon''s thickening scales provide considerable immunity.


    Enraged, Morghul twisted violently in an attempt at a retaliatory bite, but its massive jaws missed their mark.


    In this melee, Caraxes'' slender, serpentine body twisted around Morghul like a snake. His sharp, smaller ws dug deep into Morghul'' scales as his wings smote his opponent''s head.


    "Haha~"


    Daemon sneered from afar, his gaze fixed on the red priest while his hand rested on his sword hilt. He considered jumping onto the dragon''s back to end the battle with one decisive stab.


    As his nephew had often said, in this world there must be only one Dragonlord House!


    "Morghul, get a hold of yourself!"


    The red-robed priest shouted with trembling urgency, his voice carrying the strain of controlling the wild Morghul.


    "Roar..."


    With a roar of defiance, Morghul'' w shot out and gripped Caraxes'' abdomen in an iron vice-like grip.


    Temporarily restrained, Caraxes quickly recalibrated, struggling to escape the crippling hold.


    Pfft!


    In a surge of panic, Morghul bit down on Caraxes'' wing, its fangs sinking deep, the sound of cracking bone filling the air.


    "Roar! ..."


    Caraxes let out a painful scream, releasing its bite, and in a whirl of intense pain, it retaliated by lunging at Morghul'' massive head, the Blood Wyrm''s ferocity intensifying under the pain.


    Bang!


    Just as Caraxes aimed for a deadly bite, Morghul ceased his attack on the wings, his head - a formidable crown of horns - thrusting forward in a violent collision.


    Caraxes was thrown for a moment, his slit pupils narrowing as they locked on Morghul'' amber, bell-like eyes.


    "Roar..."


    At that moment, the Caraxes'' power surged, and a torrent of scarlet dragonfire erupted.


    The eyes are the dragon''s weak spot.


    Boom...


    Dragonfire struck, targeting the opponent��s head. In a desperate reflex, Morghul jerked his head aside, causing the fiery st to sear across his muzzle instead.


    With a choked roar, the pain forced Morghul'' ws to rx, inadvertently tearing away chunks of bloody scales.


    "Caraxes, strike its neck!"


    Daemon, sensing the stalemate, roared hismand, unsheathing his sword and rising to his feet on the dragon''s back.


    "Roar..."


    With renewed ferocity fueled by the scent of blood, Caraxes fought on valiantly, his own wounds only intensifying his savage attacks.


    In contrast, Morghul��s condition rapidly deteriorated, madness flickering in his dted pupils as heunched into erratic and desperate attacks.


    The red priest, barely clinging to his mount, seemed an afterthought, lucky to have escaped being thrown off.


    As the dragons entwined, they spiraled down from the cloudy sky, the fine rain mingling with their bloody battle.


    Daemon, gripping his saddle with one hand, eyed the red-robed priest with a chilling resolve.


    One thought dominated his mind: "Finish him off!"


    With that thought, he shifted his stance on the saddle.


    "Roar!"


    At that critical moment, a scarlet dragon burst through the clouds at breakneck speed, its roar thunderous.


    "Dracarys!" Rhaenys, having received the call, shouted hermand.


    Meleys responded by dipping her head and diving, her wings slicing through the air like des. A ferocious, pir-like st of dragonfire erupted from her maw, aimed directly at the fray below.


    Boom...


    Dragonfire struck Morghul''s head directly, erupting into a cloud of charred ck smoke.


    "Roar!"


    In agony, Morghul roared, his mind a whirl of confusion as his massive body iled uncontrobly.


    The red priest screamed, "Morghul, flee!"


    Their strategy to ambush a Targaryen dragon rider had failed, and with another rider arriving, retreat was their only option.


    Seizing the moment, Caraxes mped his jaws around Morghul��s neck, his wings and ws scrambling for a hold on the floundering dragon''s body.


    Daemon''s eyes sparkled as he settled back into his saddle.


    "Roar..."


    Awakened by the pain, Morghul regained his senses and unleashed a burst of dragonfire directly at Caraxes'' head, still mounted on him. At the same time, Morghul'' ws tore into Caraxes'' chest and abdomen, tearing flesh and spitting blood.


    Caraxes screamed as the dragonfire scorched his head, but his jaws remained locked, driven by an unyielding desire to tear off his neck.


    Suddenly, a sharp pain in his chest - a dragon''s w had pierced him - sounded an internal rm.


    "Caraxes, protect yourself!" Daemonmanded, sensing imminent danger.


    With Cousin Rhaenys��s arrival, there was no need for a fatal struggle.


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes heeded the call, releasing his grip. His broad scarlet wings pushed against Morghul, leveraging the force to propel himself away. His slender tail whipped through the air, rapidly stabilizing its descending body.


    Rhaenys closed in, shouting, "Daemon, restrain the wild dragon!"


    "Roar..."


    Morghul let out a low growl, struggling to stabilize and flee across the turbulent sea.


    Caraxes gave chase despite a bleeding wing, his speed slowing noticeably.


    "Roar..."


    Ahead, Meleys surged forward, her wings cutting a swift path through the sky in pursuit.


    Despite Morghul'' speed, he circled up into the thin clouds, Meleys roaring furiously behind him, spewing dragonfire.


    Rain mixed with smoke filled the sky as Morghul dodged and weaved, his years in the Smoking Sea having honed his evasive maneuvers.


    The chasested only minutes.


    By the time Daemon and his dragon, Caraxes, caught up, Morghul had vanished, leaving only Meleys hovering below the clouds.


    Rhaenys, grim-faced, stared out into the bay.


    A glimpse of the bustling city-state of Tyrosh - the escape route Morghul had taken - too close forfort.


    Rhaenys took a deep breath and pped her dragon''s back, redirecting her course toward Myr. She had heard the distant sh while on patrol and had followed the disturbance here.


    Now that the wild dragon had escaped, she had to return to Myr to strengthen its defenses.


    Daemon spoke coldly, "There''s still a dragon battle to prepare for."


    Reluctantly, Caraxes roared, inhaling the scent of fresh dragon blood on his jaws, visibly agitated and unwilling to retreat from the hunt.


    ...


    That night, Rhaegar received two letters, both with simr messages: Morghul has been tamed and the attack on Caraxes has been stopped!


    With a thunderous bang, Rhaegar mmed his fist down on the sand table, his expression dark as storm clouds. "Deploy the troops at dawn," hemanded. "We willy siege to Lys immediately!"


    He had expected the taming of the wild dragon, but its speed surprised him. Despite centuries of dilution in the Dragonlord bloodline throughout Essos, its prowess remained formidable - a gross underestimation on his part.


    The Sea Snake, his features etched with solemnity, took the letter and studied it. "Prince, with Morghul now in Tyrosh, might we consider dispatching another dragon to reinforce him?"


    Surrounded but unharmed, Tyrosh''s position meant that Rhaenys would inevitablye to Lys'' aid, leaving Daemon without all but one dragon rider.


    Rhaegar shook his head, dismissing the notion. "Morghul will return to Lys on his own. Additional dragons are unnecessary."


    Though the allegiance of Morghul - a dragon captured by Lys - seemed to align with the Triarchy, his loyalty was solely to Bambaro. If Lys faced an invasion, Morghul would undoubtedly rush to his master''s side.


    ...


    Dragonstone Ind


    A raven crossed the Narrow Sea, alighting in the maester''s loft of the Stone Drum. The elderly Maester dys retrieved the message, noting the red-painted seal depicting a three-headed dragon and a seahorse��Daemon''s temporary insignia.


    Wasting no time, dys hurried to Laena, who was still awake.


    "Thank you, Maester," Laena said, her hand resting on her pregnant belly as she leaned against the bedroom doorframe.


    "You should rest, especially now," dys advised with a kind smile before departing.


    Laena watched him leave, then entered her bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her expression softened as she opened the letter. It overflowed with Daemon''s ambitions.


    "I will conquer a piece ofnd, and the child in your womb will be my heir..."


    Reading the words, Laena closed her eyes and sighed, her heart heavy. She recalled Rhaenyra discussing the Narrow Sea strategy: one force attacking, anotherying siege, and dividing the spoils afterward.


    Yet, Daemon''s letter revealed no intention of sharing. He seemed determined to seize a city-state single-handedly with his dragon.


    Laena, having been with Daemon for many years, understood his nature. He had no desire to follow Rhaegar''s orders; he nned to act independently to maximize his gains.


    At that moment, the mournful roar of Vhagar echoed from outside the Stone Drum Tower, filling the night with a lonely silence.


    "Vhagar..." Laena murmured, feeling a surge of worry. The unease within her grew stronger.


    ...


    The next day, the zing sun hung high in the sky.


    Wooooooooooo��


    The solemn horn blew as dozens of warships converged, their sails emzoned with the three-headed red dragon, heading into the wind.


    The Sea Snake, d in heavy armor and wielding a crescent spear, stood on the deck, barking orders.


    The fleet sailed in orderly formation, steadily approaching the harbor of Lys.


    In the cabin doorway, Rhaegar sat cross-legged, holding a dragonss candle in his hand. The candle was transparent, as thick as a baby''s arm, with a handful of ss wicks at the head.


    Puff��


    Rhaegar silently recited an incantation, and a wisp of me sprang to life from the candle wick.


    His mind focused, he gazed into the flickering me.


    Whew! Whew!


    The me swayed slightly, mysteriously outlining a picture: a giant dragon with silver and ck scales and mist-colored wing membranes soared through the clouds. The dragon��s thick and long tail revealed a missing tip, and its body was covered in scars, both old and new.


    "Roar..."


    The dragon roared, carrying a red priest on its spine, andnded within a city-state under martialw.


    Zira...


    The me died, and Rhaegar''s eyes closed as his thoughts slowly returned.


    Not surprisingly, Morghul had returned to garrison Lys.


    Wooooooo...


    Suddenly, a low horn sounded and waves crashed against the ships.


    "On guard! Prepare for battle!" Sea Snake roared, ordering his soldiers to prepare the catapults.


    Rhaegar opened his eyes and moved quickly to the front of the deck.


    Scanning the horizon, he saw a fleet of no less than a hundred ships, their sails painted with strange and bizarre mercenary emblems.


    "Lord Corlys, lead the fleet and keep your distance," Rhaegar ordered, his voice calm but his eyes shing with cold intensity.


    Roar...


    No sooner had the words left his mouth than a deafening roar echoed through the sky. Shadows covered the long white clouds as a dragon''s head, ck as charcoal, appeared, its icy green pupils peering down.


    Immediately, the white clouds rippled like cotton wool, and a pair of pitch-ck dragon wings spread across the sky.


    Roar...


    Cannibal dove headfirst through the clouds like an unstoppable crossbow bolt. The dragon''s body swooped so fast that it skimmed the surface of the sea, its massive chest smashing through a thick mast.


    With a resounding crash, Cannibal toppled the warship. The dragon''s jaws parted, spewing green dragonfire like a vengeful god, harvesting life in a fiery inferno.

 Chapter 377: Bloody Wild Dragon Dance

    Chapter 377: Bloody Wild Dragon Dance


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    The sky echoed with the thunderous roars of dragons as they burst from the clouds, diving one after another. Sunfyre, Sea Smoke, and Grey Ghost led the assault.


    Rhaenys, d in crimson armor, spurred Meleys forward, appearingst and swiftly charging toward the pirate ship.


    "Dracarys!"


    Dragonfire of various hues streaked across the sky in unison. The forces of the three allied kingdoms had no time to mount a defense before being engulfed in the inferno, their cries of agony filling the air.


    The Cannibal ceased its fiery assault and soared toward the ship where Rhaegar stood, hovering momentarily with powerful wingbeats.


    "Lord Corlys, encircle the Triarchy fleet," Rhaegar ordered.


    With a dramatic flourish, Rhaegar leapt from the deck, grabbing onto the dragon''s tail. Cannibal''s tail lifted him effortlessly onto its back.


    "Roar!"


    With a fierce cry, the Cannibal surged towards the Triarchy warship once more.


    The four dragons took turns bombarding the enemy fleet, the sky churning with their ferocity as mes quickly spread across the sea.


    "Cannibal, Dracarys!" Rhaegarmanded, his gaze steady.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal swooped low, unleashing a ghostly green ze that set a pirate ship aze as it passed.


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    Laenor circled the fleet on Sea Smoke, dragonfire raining down uncontrobly. Aegon followed on Sunfyre, matching Grey Ghost��s trajectory, theirbined mes relentless.


    Meleys darted nimbly over the fleet, targeting pirate ships bristling with scorpion crossbows.


    "Counterattack! Ready the scorpion crossbows!" bellowed Sharako Lohar, themander of the Triarchy''s navy, as he personally aimed a scorpion crossbow at the light gray dragon.


    Whoosh��


    A steel spear shot through the air, narrowly grazing the light gray dragon��s tail.


    "Roar..."


    The Grey Ghost whipped around in surprise, its vertical pupils locking onto a specific pirate ship. Gathering energy, it unleashed a fiery dragonfire ball.


    Boom��


    Sharako��s scream was cut short as the three-meter-diameter fireball consumed him. The deck erupted in mes, the bow of the ship tilted downward, and mercenaries fled in terror.


    "Fire the scorpion crossbows!"


    "The dragon ising!"


    Chaos reigned across hundreds of pirate ships. Mercenaries, unustomed to facing dragons, frantically scrambled tounch their scorpion crossbows.


    The five dragons soared above, bing elusive, high-speed targets.


    Rhaegar took a quick nce at the scene and coldly muttered, "Kill them all."


    Cannibal��s wings beat powerfully, ghostly green dragonfire spilling recklessly, transforming into wings of death that obliterated everything in its path.


    Steel spears shot upward, futilely chasing the five dragons. Only the fearless charge of the Cannibal sent the crossbow bolts scattering uselessly.


    The remaining four dragons remained unharmed, not a single steel spear even grazing their scales.


    "Dracarys!" Laenor shouted excitedly, Sea Smoke beneath him swooping back and forth, attacking with increasing ferocity.


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre and Grey Ghost roared continuously, their gold and gray forms intertwining as they destroyed swathes of pirate ships.


    The pirates of the Triarchy looked on in horror, their hearts pounding wildly as they helplessly fired their scorpion crossbows and arrows.


    The dragons danced in the sky, their movements almost graceful. Dragonfire rained down, and the sea ran red with blood.


    ...


    In the blink of an eye, hours slipped away.


    Crackling...


    Rolling ck smoke billowed from the vast sea, the sea breeze carrying the acrid stench of charred remains.


    The fleet of the three allied kingdoms was nearly annihted. Wrecked ships littered the water, charred corpses marring the azure sea.


    "Roar..."


    Meleys streaked by, its scarlet scales glistening as if bathed in blood, hunting for surviving mercenaries to incinerate.


    Whoosh��


    The fleet bearing the three-headed red dragon banner advanced slowly, bypassing the ten-mile-wide bloody battlefield, and approached Lys''s harbor.


    The Sea Snake''s face tightened as he inhaled the thick stench of charred wood, secretly clenching his weapon.


    No one here had been an eyewitness to the ancient Valyrian conquest of Essos; there were only stories.


    Now, the Targaryens'' assault on the Triarchy was unfolding before their eyes.


    The dragons danced together, invincible and unmatched.


    Hoo! Whew!


    A shadow loomed overhead as the Cannibal circled slowly, exuding a sinister aura.


    Rhaegar, steady in his saddle, surveyed the tragic scene below and shouted, "Laenor, Aegon, clear the battlefield."


    The dragons had incinerated the ships, and many mercenaries had leaped into the sea to survive, their numbers were too great to ignore.


    Sea Smoke and Sunfyre were not far away, their roars echoing through the air.


    Laenor and Aegon led the charge, continuing to burn the floundering mercenaries in the sea.


    Rhaegar pped the back of his pitch-ck dragon and directed the Cannibal across the battlefield, heading straight for Lys.


    Grey Ghost chirped and pped his wings, following closely.


    Rhaenys nced at her husband on the ship and arrogantlymanded, "Go after them!"


    "Roar..."


    Meleys roared, picking up speed.


    The Sea Snake, a great explorer who had ventured to sea nine times, was always ahead in his journeys.


    Rhaenys, though asionally worried, never traveled with him, for she always anticipated Corlys''s every move, staying one step ahead of him.


    ...


    Lys, Magister''s Mansion.


    Bambaro paced anxiously in the attic, his anxiety evident.


    A hundred warships had been dispatched, nearly the entire naval force of Lys. He dared not deploy Morghul, fearing it would be overwhelmed by the Targaryen dragons in a sea battle.


    He believed that the sheer number of ships would at least wear down the Iron Throne fleet, perhaps even bring down a dragon. As the enemy approached the harbor, thousands of well-defended garrison troops and city-state scorpion crossbows would keep the dragons in check.


    With Morghul, their ultimate weapon, victory seemed assured.


    Bang...


    The door burst open, and several borately dressed officials rushed in, panic on their faces.


    "How is the battle going?" Bambaro''s eyes shed with urgency.


    "My lord, the Targaryen dragons have destroyed the fleet and are advancing on the city-state," an official reported, his voice shaking.


    Bambaro''s heart pounded as he asked, "What are the Iron Throne''s losses?"


    As long as the enemy had suffered significant losses, there might still be hope.


    "No losses," the official replied, his fear evident. "They still have five dragons, and our fleet was helpless."


    Bambaro stared in disbelief. During the Conqueror��s time, three dragons had subdued the seven kingdoms of Westeros. Now, five Targaryen dragons seemed like divine retribution.


    A young official, trembling, suggested, "My lord, war will only bring innocent casualties. Why not consider peace?"


    Lys was not just the Magister''s domain; it belonged to all the powerful and wealthy. The city had already endured the devastation of dragonfire once, and no one wished to relive that nightmare.


    Anger erupted in Bambaro. "Get out! Inform the garrison to fight to the death!" he roared.


    Negotiate peace? Never! The Triarchy and the Iron Throne were mortal enemies. With Morghul, they had a wild dragon on their side. Surrender or peace talks would only ensure his own death.


    ...


    "Roar--"


    Cannibal soared above Lys, churning the clouds and letting out a terrifying roar.


    The sound of the dragon roar and his pitch-ck wings, was too familiar to the terror to the Free City of Lys.


    Civilians and ves hiding in their homes looked up and recognized the pitch-ck dragon in the sky.


    One thought rose unanimously.


    "The ck dragon! It''s descending on Lys again!"


    Whoosh! Whoosh!


    Suddenly, the strange sounds of scorpion crossbows echoed from the hundreds of towers in the city,unching steel spears skyward.


    Rhaegar observed the scene andmanded calmly, "Dracarys!"


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal''s green eyes shed with disdain, and it unleashed a torrent of Dragonfire.


    In an instant, hundreds of steel spears melted into molten iron, raining down on the city.


    Man and dragon moved as one.


    Rhaegar leaned forward, and Cannibal lifted its wings and swooped down, its massive body casting a shadow over the free city as Dragonfire rained on the guard towers.


    Boom! Boom!


    The dragon only left destruction in its wake, toppling towers and sending boulders crashing down, spreading chaos throughout the city.


    Woo~


    Solemn horns sounded from the harbor as the Iron Throne''s fleet attacked.


    Meleys and Grey Ghost circled above, coordinating with the fleet to capture the heavily fortified harbor.


    The Targaryen assault was unstoppable.


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, a maniacal dragon roar pierced the air.


    Rhaegar turned to the sound and saw a massive silver and ck dragon emerge from a domed building.


    "Morghul!"


    Rhaegar muttered as he sized up the giant dragon.


    Their first encounter had been in the dangerous Smoking Sea.


    Morghul, perhaps curious or lonely, had followed the Cannibal''s scent to Dragonstone Ind, harassing the other dragons nesting in the Dragonmont.


    With determination in his eyes, Rhaegar shouted, "Kill!"


    The Cannibal''s green eyes gleamed with fierce intent, saliva dripping from its jaws as it dove with lightning speed.


    One thought dominated its mind.


    Prey!


    "Roar..."


    Morghul'' vertical pupils glowed with madness as he charged forward.


    On the dragon''s back, the red priest Belle screamed frantically, "Morghul, stop!"


    The dragon was out of control!


    Instead of targeting the golden dragon or the light silver dragon from the intelligence, Morghul chose to confront the Cannibal, a dragon more than half its size.


    Just like during yesterday''s mission against the airborne fleet, this dragon attacked with reckless abandon.


    Boom!


    Green and gray Dragonfire shed, mixing into a hellish mist that filled the sky with brilliant colors.


    Cannibal crashed through the Dragonfire, its maw wide open with impatience.


    Morghul, unafraid, charged directly into the Cannibal.


    Pfft...


    With a sickening sound, the Cannibal knocked Morghul backward, sinking its bloody jaws into the neck, hot dragon blood spurting out.


    "Roar..."


    Morghul howled in agony, unable to bite back as its ws struggled to tear at the Cannibal''s chest.


    Prick!


    Gray ws scraped against ck scales, sending sparks flying. The sharp ws managed to prate the scales but couldn��t tear away much flesh.


    Pfft...


    Cannibal, driven by the scent of blood, ripped outrge chunks of flesh, tilting its head back to swallow them whole.


    Taking advantage of Morghul''s screams, Cannibal locked its jaws onto one of Morghul''s wings.


    Click...


    Fangs pierced the wing membrane, snapping the slender wing bone.


    With a violent shake of its head, Cannibal shredded the wing membrane to pieces.


    Bits of flesh and blood fell into its maw as Morghul''s wings twisted and tore apart.


    "Roar!"


    Morghul wailed in pain but continued to attack fearlessly, twisting its body to bite into Cannibal''s shoulder and neck.


    Thick fangs broke through the scales, closing deeply around the flesh.


    Hot dragon blood sprayed over both dragons.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal, oblivious to pain, fell into a frenzied hunger, both rational and insane.


    Morghul bit and tore relentlessly, but Cannibal pped its wings to pull away, stomping hard on Morghul''s body.


    With a sickening crunch, scales broke, mixed with dragon blood.


    Morghul grunted but did not release its grip.


    Cannibal, growing more exuberant, bit down on Morghul''s other wing.


    Crack-


    The bones were shattered at the roots, and the entire wing was torn in half.

 Chapter 378: Bloodline – Dragonborn

    Chapter 378: Bloodline �C Dragonborn


    "Roar..."


    With both wings shattered, Morghul couldn''t contain its agony, roaring as it lost its ability to fly.


    The heavy body fell, its massive jaws still locked on the Cannibal.


    The two dragons, tangled in the air, descended rapidly, their struggle taking them lower and lower.


    "Roar..."


    As they fell, Cannibal pped its wings to slow their descent, its green eyes shing with cruelty.


    Thick ws reached forward, gripping Morghul''s chest, breaking through the scales and piercing the flesh.


    In an instant, the chest tore open, and bright red dragon blood gushed out.


    "No! Morghul, run away!" Red priest Belle cried out in grief, hanging in mid-air.


    Though Morghul had been tamed through despicable means, the dragon had given him a chance to change his fate. With Morghul alive, Belle had value.


    "Roar..."


    Morghul ignored his rider''s pleas, focused solely on the battle.


    The pitch-ck and silver-ck dragons fell together, locked in a deadly embrace, tumbling like two tightly bound shadows.


    They plummeted from hundreds of meters high, the wind howling around them.


    Rhaegar clung to the Cannibal''s back, gasping, his skin crimson like blood. His ck robe had been burned away, leaving him nearly naked.


    His exposed skin dripped with hot dragon blood, steaming as it flowed.


    "Hoo... Hoo..."


    Rhaegar''s eyes zed over, his chest heaving. The blood from both dragons seeped into his pores, pouring from the Cannibal''s shoulders and Morghul''s heart.


    "So hot, my blood is burning," Rhaegar thought, his mind nk as if he were about tobust in the dragon blood.


    "Roar..."


    Morghul cried out in misery, dragon blood spurting from his chest, sshing onto Rhaegar.


    The Cannibal''s ws had hollowed out Morghul''s chest cavity, bursting his massive dragon heart.


    With his strength rapidly fading and life force draining away, Morghul ceased all struggle and resistance.


    Only one thing remained.


    Its massive jaws stayed locked onto the Cannibal''s shoulder and neck, an unyielding grip born of obsession.


    Dragon blood poured into Rhaegar''s ears, nose, eyes, and mouth, leaving him drenched as if he had been fished out of a pool of blood.


    "Morghul..."


    Rhaegar, slightly disoriented, stood up from the slippery saddle.


    The two dragons fell, one atop the other, with Morghul on his back, his dragon head right in front of Rhaegar. The hideous maw had bitten off a chunk of Cannibal''s pitch-ck flesh, its dark vertical pupils filled with inexplicable emotion��resolute, with a death wish.


    Rhaegar''s spirit lifted, and he stared straight into Morghul''s eyes.


    As Morghul''s life faded, his giant mouth loosened its grip on the flesh, and his body fell like a reed in the wind.


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened as a wisp of ck fire leaked from the corners of his eyes, flickering like fireflies.


    Bang! Bang!


    The dragon blood on his body seeped into his pores, his heart pounding like a drum.


    Rhaegar''s silver hair fluttered, his violet eyes took on green dragon streaks, and a surge of magic power erupted from deep within his bones and blood.


    In the next instant, his entire body ignited in ck fire, enveloping him.


    Within the ck fire, Rhaegar appeared god-like, a pitch-ck dragon scale growing on his forehead.


    "Roar��"


    Cannibal sensed something, abandoned Morghul''s body, and roared, its green eyes reflecting Rhaegar.


    "No! No!"


    Morghul continued to fall, and Red Priest Belle on his back shrieked in despair.


    Rhaegar scowled at the sound, frost forming in his eyes.


    He raised his right hand and the Lance of Dawn appeared.


    He understood Morghery''s feelings.


    The dragon yearned for freedom and longed to return to the Smoking Sea rather than be tamed by humans through despicable means.


    Morghul'' attack on Cannibal was both an act of revenge and a desire for death.


    Rhaegar sighed softly and whispered, "I''ll help you be free."


    With a sharp pull, Dawn was raised high, its tip aimed at the red figure on Morghul''s back.


    Lightning crackled, and the Valyrian steel tip gleamed coldly.


    "Morghul, don''t die!"


    Red Priest Belle, with tears streaming down his face, clung to the silver and ck back scales.


    Pfft...


    Thence shot forward, piercing Belle''s face and shattering the back of his skull.


    His body stiffened, his hands loosened, and he fell from Morghul''s back.


    Everything happened in an instant, a sh of light.


    Boom��


    Morghul''s body crashed heavily, first into a high tower, thennding in a crumpled heap.


    His tattered wings drooped, his dragon head fell to the ground, and blood and flesh spilled from his mangled torso.


    ttering...


    The tower crumbled, burying the remnants of Morghul''s body under stones, leaving only his massive dragon head exposed, mouth full of blood, and dark eyes growing dull.


    "Roar..."


    Morghul''s gaze fixed in one direction, his throat emitted a final wail.


    It seemed to reach out towards a domed dragon cave, or perhaps the distant Smoking Sea.


    ...


    "Roar--"


    Cannibal roared, its ck wings spreading wide as it circled above Lys.


    Rhaegar''s face remained calm as the ck fire around him faded, revealing his white porcin skin.


    He raised his hand and touched his left forehead, where a piece of ck scale the size of a baby''s finger had formed.


    [Rhaegar Targaryen]


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold)


    Bloodline: Dragonborn (+53%)


    Rune: Serpent (Blue), Bronze (Green)


    Blood Sorcery: Enchantment Spell (Blue), Binding Spell (Green)...


    Relic: Blood and Fire (Fire Resistance: 100%), True Dragon Blood (Fire Element Affinity: 100%)...


    Evaluation: "Ancient bloodline reappears in the world, the original Dragonborns."


    Rhaegar''s eyes were clear as he murmured, "The bloodline has changed."


    The Ancient Valyrian Dragonlord''s bloodline had transformed into "Dragonborn," and the concentration had increased from (+49%) to (+53%).


    Rhaegar spected silently, "When the bloodline concentration exceeds half, the name changes as well?"


    He noticed that "Pyromancer" and "Longevity" in the Talents column had disappeared, and the relics "Blood and Fire" and "True Dragon''s Blood" had increased from (50%) to (100%).


    "It seems like it''s aplete metamorphosis."


    Rhaegar felt a mix of emotions and some confusion about the changes to his body. There were no records of "Dragonborn" in Targaryen history, though ancient texts had mentioned it metaphorically.


    The metamorphosis was most likely due to Morghul''s lifeblood.


    A sea breeze blew by, and Rhaegar felt the difference in temperature on his hot body. He looked down at his clean, white skin.


    "Ahem..."


    Coughing lightly in embarrassment, he took out a ck robe from his space bracelet and covered himself.


    Sensing a difference in his forehead, Rhaegar took out a mirror. A diamond-shaped pitch-ck dragon scale had formed. With a thought, the dragon scale receded, blending seamlessly into his skin.


    "Fortunately, no need to worry about exposure."


    Rhaegar smiled, removing the blood-stained felt from the saddle and remounting the dragon.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal nced back at Rhaegar, its hunger abated, green vertical pupils deep as the abyss. The rider''s transformation had brought about changes in the dragon as well.


    "Dracarys!"


    Rhaegar''s voice was cold as he looked down at the tower still firing scorpion crossbows.


    "Roar-"


    Cannibal roared, its pitch-ck body swooping down as Dragonfire sted the ill-fated tower.


    One man and one dragon seemed to have forgotten about the fallen Morghul.


    ...


    Lys, Magister''s Mansion.


    Bambaro stood frozen in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, his shocked expression almost making him look foolish.


    Witnessing Morghul'' demise with his own eyes, he felt utterly defeated.


    After a long moment, Bambaro collected himself and muttered, "We must go. That Targaryen madman... it will be toote if we don''t go now."


    If a dragon could be killed so easily, what hope did they have?


    "Where are you going, my lord?"


    A slightly amused, maic voice came from behind.


    Bambaro''s nerves tightened as he turned warily.


    A man in ck robes, with brown hair and skin, and a short sword slung across his body stood before him.


    "Who sent you?" Bambaro demanded, his eyes wide with disbelief. He couldn''t fathom where the mercenaries guarding the mansion had gone.


    "You don''t need to know that much."


    The man, Syrio, bowed gracefully and said calmly, "<em>Vr morghulis</em> (All men must die)."


    As the words fell, a dagger appeared in his hand and quickly sliced Bambaro''s throat.


    "Hoo~"


    Bambaro''s eyes widened as he clutched his spraying throat, copsing helplessly to the floor.


    Syrio saluted again, smiling, "<em>Vr dohaeris</em><i> (</i>All men must serve)."


    ...


    The same grim scene repeated itself across various parts of Lys.


    The brunt of the chaos centered around the high towers of the garrison.


    As crossbowmen concentrated on maneuvering their scorpion crossbows, theirpanions behind them suddenly raised swords, shing their throats.


    Within minutes, a third of Lys'' high towers were engulfed in infighting.


    The mutinous mercenaries were all marked by a strip of cloth intertwined with ck and white roses on their cors.


    ...


    Dome Dragonpit


    "Run, the Dragonkeepers will catch up any moment!"


    In the charred open area, two silver-haired figures sprinted, pushing and shoving their way into a narrow alley.


    "Roar--"


    Above the city-state, the ck-as-charcoal dragon spewed Dragonfire, incineratingrge swathes of the city center.


    Denys bounced around, panting heavily as he carried a bag full of gold coins. "What are you hiding in your arms?" he asked breathlessly.


    Hugh looked tense, his rough robe wrapped tightly around him, concealing a bulging stomach. At first nce, he resembled a tall, pregnant woman.


    When Hugh ignored him, Denys rolled his eyes and provoked him, "Did you steal dragon dung from the Dragonpit?"


    "Bullshit! I haven''t even asked you what you''re hiding in your bag!" Hugh snapped, ring angrily like a dog whose tail had been stepped on.


    Denys sneered, looked Hugh up and down, and then kept running.


    The two fled through less crowded streets and alleys, heading towards the West City. The west side had just been scorched by the ck dragon, leaving the guard force decimated and unlikely to face another attack soon. It was safer for the two fugitives.


    Rumble...


    As they ran, a crumbling tower overhead dropped stones, crashing down in front of them with a loud bang.


    Denys was blown off his feet by the gust, rolling and crawling a long distance.


    When he looked up again, his eyes widened in confusion.


    A two-story-tall, immense, hideous dragon head came into view.


    "Ah!..."


    Denys, startled, scrambled backward in a frantic stomp.


    Regaining his senses, he carefully observed.


    The dragon''s head drooped helplessly, its vertical pupils closed tightly, long devoid of breath.


    Denys''s heart pounded in his chest, nearly leaping into his throat.


    Silver-ck scales, exposed thick fangs, and arge puddle of dragon blood flowed from its jaw.


    "Dead... dead..."


    Denys swallowed hard and shakily rose to his feet.


    Hugh crawled out of the rubble, his linen robe torn, revealing a familiar silver-ck hue.


    "Can you still run?" Hugh asked, wrapping his arms tightly around his bundle and ncing at Denys.


    Denys''s eyes widened in realization. "You stole a dragon egg?"


    No wonder Hugh had risked his life to rush into the Dragonpit.


    With his secret out, Hugh grinned. "This is the treasure Belle hid in the dragon''s droppings, something I overheard."


    Hugh pped his chest proudly. "When the dragon egg hatches, we''ll be rich."


    Denys was skeptical. "You think the egg will hatch just like that? Besides, where are we going to run with it?"


    Hugh grunted, "You have money, don''t you? Let''s hide in a small ce in Essos. The dragon egg will hatch sooner orter."


    Denys was speechless.


    No wonder Hugh insisted on dragging him along. He wanted his money.


    Hugh, feeling smug, scanned the ck dragon hovering in the sky. "Don''t dawdle. Are youing with me or not?"


    Denys hesitated but then clenched his teeth. "Let''s go!"


    "Then hurry up, there aren''t any fishing boats left in the harbor."


    Hugh chided, twisting his head and heading towards another alley.


    Denys struggled to move his feet, ncing at the pitch-ck dragon in the sky, his mind racing.


    Should he go with Hugh or...


    Making up his mind, Denys quickly followed Hugh. "Brother, I''ll hold the money and see how long I canst," he whispered.


    He pulled out the foot-long money bag, its bottom bulging with gold coins.


    Hugh, not looking back, sneered. "What''s the hurry? Wait until we''re out of Lys."


    "No hurry," Denys replied, his tone shifting. "You want money? I''ll give it to you."


    He swung the money bag, aiming the bottom filled with gold at the back of Hugh''s head, and struck down violently.


    Bang...


    Blood sttered, and gold coins scattered to the ground.


    Hugh''s eyes rolled back, and he fell straight to the ground, his limbs spasming asionally.


    Cold sweat broke out on Denys as he picked up a rock and smashed Hugh''s head, then pulled out the dragon egg from his robe.


    The silver-ck scaled shell, glowing ebony in the sunlight, matched Morghul''s scales.


    Ignoring the gold coins on the ground, Denys hugged the dragon egg tightly. Looking up at the pitch-ck dragon in the sky, he muttered, "With this, I''ll surely be able to earn a title."

 Chapter 379: Black Swan, Dragon Egg Hatching

    Chapter 379: ck Swan, Dragon Egg Hatching


    The setting sun at dusk.


    A light silver and a light gray dragon hovered over Lys, yfully weaving through the red, fiery clouds.


    The majestic city-statey in ruins, ck smoke billowing from the debris.


    The harbor had broken down, and armies flying the banners of the three-headed red dragon, the seahorse, and the fierce tiger disembarked, pouring into every corner of the city.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal''s dragon head leaned forward, wings braced against the towering buildings, hind feet plowing through mounds of rubble.


    Buried in the near-ruined debris were the remains of Morghul.


    Cannibal had only ever eaten young dragons and eggs, asionally scavenging the remains of adult dragons. This was the first time it had hunted an adult dragon alone.


    A long-lost and cherished bloody meal.


    The street was reduced to ruins, scorched ck traces marking the devastation.


    Rhaegar stood amidst the destruction, cing a dragon''s head with closed eyes, behind him.


    "Prince, have mercy!"


    "We are innocent..."


    The elite of the Second Sons Regiment surrounded the street, and dozens ofvishly dressed dignitaries knelt, snotting and crying.


    Rhaegar ignored them, weighing a fresh dragon egg in his hand.


    The egg was covered with diamond-shaped scales, pitch ck with a hint of silver luster emerging as it moved.


    Two elite members of the Second Sons stood by, detaining a bearded, silver-haired middle-aged man.


    "Balerion blessed us, allowing Morghul to leave behind a dragon egg," Rhaegar said, his eyes softening, a smile curling his lips.


    Morghul hade from the Smoking Sea, his bloodline distinct from the dragons of House Targaryen.


    In the heat of the dragon fight, Morghul could not be saved. But he hadid a dragon egg, and when it hatched, it would be a young dragon of rare bloodline.


    A young knight of the Second Sons reported, "Prince, this man was captured near a building carrying a dragon egg."


    Rhaegar turned, his clear eyes ncing over.


    "Prince, I was protecting the dragon eggs, not stealing them to escape," Silver Denys pleaded, his haggard, handsome face full of desperation.


    He had not expected to be caught hiding in a building for shelter.


    The Iron Throne''s army had an uncanny ability to find him, leading to his capture and the seizure of the dragon egg he had risked his life to obtain.


    Hearing his cries and pleas, Rhaegar seemed to ponder for a moment beforeughing softly. "I remember you, Denys Waters, the supposed descendant from a bastard of Maegor I, with an eight-year-old daughter."


    Morghulying a dragon''s egg was unexpected yet fitting.


    On the eve of the attack on Lys, scouts had blocked all harbors, monitoring every move of the domed dragon''sir.


    Even if Silver Denys had second thoughts, he wouldn''t have escaped from Lys.


    Rhaegar''s words were a lifesaver to him.


    Denys, anxious, nodded vigorously. "Yes, it''s me. The dragon egg was hidden by Belle for his selfish reasons. I recaptured it from Hugh and wanted to offer it to you, Prince."


    As a Dragonseed, Denys'' original role was to tame dragons. Although he had never touched a dragon, he knew that a dragon egg was valuable enough to ensure a lifetime of wealth.


    Rhaegar remained nomittal and waved his hand. "Take him away, but don''t treat him harshly."


    The dragon egg was an unexpected prize, but Rhaegar didn''t have time to interrogate a bastard at the moment.


    Upon hearing this, the young knights of the Second Sons led Denys away.


    Holding the dragon egg, Rhaegar walked towards the group of kneeling dignitaries, he looked around at the crying, begging men. None had the courage to stand firm.


    "These people, they all supported Bambaro?" Rhaegar asked curiously.


    "Yes, Prince," Syrio replied, standing in front of the group with a smile spreading across his face.


    Rhaegar nodded, pondering their fate.


    Syrio didn''t remain idle. He called for the body of an old man to be dragged in and handed Rhaegar a parchment book.


    The corpse was in a miserable state, having been stabbed a dozen times.


    Syrio raised an eyebrow and said, "The Bloodmage that Magister Lys enshrined carried this ghostly book."


    The old man had tried to flee and was hacked to death by soldiers.


    Rhaegar gave a curious "Oh" and received the parchment book with interest.


    His bloodline had changed, and he needed all the knowledge he could get, before he could look through it, two blood-soaked armies arrived.


    "Prince, the harbor ispletely captured," Sea Snake announced, his voice deep and full of vigor.


    The other group was a team of soldiers with fierce tiger tattoos on their faces, led by "Tesrio", the Tiger Archon of Vntis.


    Tesserio''s face was tough as he lowered his stance and saluted. "Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, it''s been a long time."


    Rhaegar exchanged brief pleasantries and instructed the two leaders to clear the streets and maintain order in the city-state.


    The elite of the Second Sons then led the dozens of powerful dignitaries towards the Magister''s Pce.


    Another person was waiting for Rhaegar there.


    ...


    As the sun set, the temperature plummeted.


    Rhaegar was led by two sultry women to an elegant attic facing the setting sun in the Magister''s Pce.


    Creak��


    Pushing open the door, he saw a silhouette in a white gauze skirt standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing out at the sunset.


    Rhaegar remained calm and silent, waiting. It was this person who had tipped him off, facilitating the inside-and-out attack on Lys. ording to Syrio, this person wanted to meet him, iming to offer solutions.


    The silhouette slowly turned, revealing a beautiful face, and greeted him with a sweet smile. "Johanna of House Swann, sincere greetings to the prince."


    Rhaegar frowned slightly, scrutinizing the woman before him. Her voice and appearance were vaguely familiar, but he couldn��t remember her.


    Johanna''s eyes sparkled with charm. Her ck curly hair cascaded down her chest, and she swayed her hips as she approached, exuding ample feminine allure. Knowledgeable and charming, she embodied the essence of a mature woman.


    Rhaegar suddenly remembered a fragment of the past. His eyebrows knitted together, and he bluntly asked, "Are you the prostitute from three years ago?"


    During the first Battle of the Stepstones, he had led the army to sack Lys. While searching for the Bank of Rogare, a pleasure house prostitute had dared to give him directions.


    Johanna''s beautiful eyes shed with recognition, and she didn''t deny it. "Including this time, I��ve helped you twice."


    She closed the distance between them, stopping less than two meters away, her long white legs almost touching him.


    Rhaegar''s expression rxed as he moved towards the floor-to-ceiling window. "Besides my people, whatever you want, just ask."


    He had heard of Johanna��s name��the plundered daughter of House Swann, forced into prostitution when her uncle wouldn��t pay her ransom. A whore who had risen to meddle in Lys''s politics was undoubtedly remarkable. But she couldn''t have his body.


    Slightly taken aback by the dry rejection, Johanna realized she had miscalcted. She thought the Targaryen heir prince, known to prefer mature women, would be attracted to her.


    "Uh-huh," Johanna smiled warmly. "Prince, you will be Lys''s master, and I can be a profitable housekeeper."


    "Don''t want to go back to Westeros?" Rhaegar asked, seemingly in jest. "I can help you get rid of Lord Swann, so you can be a Lady."


    Johanna shook her head gently. "I''m a ck swan; I don''t attract sympathy."


    Rhaegar smiled, saying nothing.


    Johanna stroked her hair, her fingertips brushing over the white grease on her chest. "Leave me behind. I can help you manage Lys and make those powerful people truly loyal to you."


    "Deal."


    Rhaegar nodded. "First, get rid of those disobedient ones, then negotiate with Vntis and House Vryon for me."


    With Lys captured, the Triarchy was left with only one backstabbing Tyrosh. The three city-states would be divided��one under the crown''s direct jurisdiction, one for Daemon, and the remaining one split between the crown and its allies. This preliminary strategy would need further discussion in King''s Landing.


    The ck Swan was clever; her help in controlling Lys would give Rhaegar an edge in negotiations.


    "No problem," Johanna agreed readily, leaning against the doorframe. "Shall I call a few beauties for you?"


    Rhaegar didn��t bother to look at her. "Get out and do your job," he said with great disgust.


    Unfazed, Johanna smiled, bowed, and retreated.


    Communicating with smart people was simple and convenient.


    Bang...


    The door to the room closed, and the sky grew darker.


    Rhaegar stretched and looked towards the pitch-ck dragon sprawled in the ruins.


    The voracious Cannibal had satisfied its hunger, methodically chewing and swallowing Morghul''s remains.


    A short timeter, only a broken skeleton remained in the ruins.


    Finally satiated, the Cannibaly down and fell into a shallow slumber.


    Rhaegar thought darkly, "He''s digesting it."


    Since his transformation into a Dragonborn, the bond between him and Cannibal had grown even stronger. Cannibal transmitted feelings of fullness and energy transformation through sleep.


    Rhaegar cupped his chin with one hand and mused, "After ten years, Cannibal has finally had a full meal."


    But the price of such a meal was high.


    Swish swish...


    Rhaegar ced the dragon egg on hisp and pulled out the Bloodmage''s parchment book, flipping through it with one hand.


    An old Bloodmage''s book could contain a wealth of knowledge.


    The sun setpletely and darkness enveloped the sky.


    Rhaegar''s violet eyes glowed as he read the book in the dim light.


    The pages contained information on medicinal herbs, medical experience, and geographical details of Essos, interspersed with special symbols and patterns that described unknown concepts of blood sorcery.


    Halfway through, the content changed.


    In Valyrian script, several paragraphs were clearly recorded: "Quiet," "Stop," "Loyalty"...


    Rhaegar''s eyes lit up with excitement. "Dragon Taming Spells?"


    However, the spell was iplete, missing the key word "Flying."


    Rhaegar''s excitement faded. Without the key word, the spell couldn''t be performed, and only limited dragon taming techniques could be used.


    No wonder Morghul was tamed; it likely involved the this spell.


    Rhaegar licked his lips and continued reading.


    The book contained spections about dragons, knowledge of dragon breeding from a Dragonlord family, and the preparation and process of dragon taming...


    He flipped through the pages faster, reaching thest page.


    "Whew~, this unknown Dragonlord family had some useful knowledge about breeding dragons," Rhaegar said, satisfied.


    The book detailed dragon habits, volcandscapes, and dragon egg preservation.


    Targaryen had some of this knowledge, but not as detailed as the book''s records.


    "Dragon egg hatching..."


    Rhaegar set the parchment aside and thoughtfully picked up the silver and ck dragon egg by his leg.


    Raising it above his head, he examined it closely in the hazy moonlight.


    An idea shed in Rhaegar''s mind. He mobilized the fire magic power in his blood to gently nourish the dragon egg.


    The book mentioned that dragon eggs were best kept in volcandscapes, like the dragon nests of the Fourteen mes.


    Such conditions increased the hatching rate and elerated the growth of young dragons.


    Rhaegar smiled and chanted, "Dragon egg, please hatch quickly."


    He suddenly recalled his childhood.


    Rhaenyra had ced a ck dragon egg from Dreamfyre in his cradle.


    After all these years, that dragon egg stilly unhatched in the Dragonpit.


    Watching his nieces Ba and Rhaena sessfully hatch their dragon eggs had always made him a bit envious.


    Ka-ching...


    Suddenly, the dragon egg made a crunching sound and a piece of silver and ck scale fell away.


    "Eh?" Rhaegar''s eyes widened, and he instantly sat up straight.


    The sea breeze blew away the dark clouds, revealing a bright moon that cast its light through the wide floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating both the dragon egg and Rhaegar''s face.


    Click click click...


    The dragon egg gently shook, and the cracks spread wider and wider.


    Pfft...


    With a final push, a small dragon head poked out of the eggshell, reflecting a silver-ck luster under the moonlight.


    Rhaegar''s breath caught, and he held his hand up, not daring to move.


    Incredibly, he had personally hatched a young dragon.


    "Roar..."


    The young dragon''s ck vertical pupils nced around as it slowly crawled out of the eggshell, stretching its body like a small ck cat.


    In appearance, the young dragon was almost a replica of Morghul. Its slender silver-ck body wasn''trge, but its head was as big as a goose egg, with a head-to-body ratio of a staggering one to three.


    The young dragon''s tiny neck struggled to support its head, and it moved its bodyboriously, its bushy gray wings wrapping around Rhaegar''s arm.


    Plop...


    Unbnced by its oversized head, the young dragon toppled over.


    Rhaegar quickly caught it, preventing a tragic fall just after hatching.


    "Roar..."


    The young dragon roared weakly, bracing its wings against Rhaegar''s arm as it stood up, looking at him with curious eyes.


    "Sip sip sip! ~"


    Rhaegar''s eyes sparkled with joy as he smiled. "Little one, are you alright?"

 Chapter 380: Young Dragon, Tyraxes

    Chapter 380: Young Dragon, Tyraxes


    Two Days Later


    The fishy, salty sea breeze blew as the smoke over Lys gradually dissipated.


    In the eastern part of the city, near the harbor, countless ves swarmed the streets. They wore tattered clothes and knelt on both sides of the road.


    Among the throngs of people were men, old people, and women, all with miserable faces, huddled together in desperation.


    As far as the eye could see, it seemed as if every ve in the city had gathered.


    The stench of sweat mixed with the strong smell of perfume and smoke from the burning city-state turned the harbor into a sprawling slum.


    Living in squalor was the main theme of their lives.


    But today, something was different.


    A crowd of male ves huddled in front, their necks bearing bruises from shackles, their feet freed from heavy fetters. Female ves, cowering in the back, huddled together for warmth, their formerly exposed skin now covered with an extrayer of linen to block the men''s gaze. Elderly men prayed silently, while children watched timidly.


    Tens of thousands of lower ss ves waited for a person or a signal.


    Puh-ohh~


    An elephant''s roar suddenly rang out, followed by an elite army of a hundred armored men clearing the way.


    The ves looked up, sping their hands in prayer.


    At the end of the harbor, a gray and white war elephant, several meters tall, walked gracefully, its trunk spewing mist.


    With all eyes upon him, Rhaegar rode the war elephant, his young and handsome face calm and serene.


    He had shed his ck war coat and wore a casual white shirt with a ck skirt embroidered with three red dragons.


    There was no deep meaning to it; he was simply expressing an attitude.


    The war in Lys was over, and the reign of the Targaryens was about to begin.


    "Roar..."


    A shrill roar reached his ears, and a cool breeze whistled over his shoulder.


    A young silver and ck dragon the size of a house cat stood proudly on his right shoulder, its mist-colored wings outstretched in demonstration.


    Rhaegar nced sideways and smiled. "Tyraxes, be quiet."


    Silver hair, purple eyes, and fluent High Valyrian. A lively young dragon on his shoulder.


    A pure Targaryen roaming the streets of Lys.


    "Roar..."


    The young dragon raised its head, revealing a mouthful of fangs despite its youth, and stumbled into a crouch. Its oversized head made it difficult to adjust to the newborn period.


    Rhaegar stroked the top of its head, which was sprouting horns, then turned his attention away from the little creature.


    He had named the dragon "Tyraxes", after an ancient Valyrian deity symbolizing exuberance, vitality, and the ability to receive the dead. It came from the same faith as Morghul and was one of the minor deities.


    Rhaegar had hatched the dragon, chosen a name for it, and kept it with him for the time being. He considered that his own children or Daemon''s children might not be able to hatch the eggs, so he nned to tame this "unique bloodline" young dragon.


    The war elephant Rhaegar rode on walked slowly through the alleyway, escorted by the elite of the Second Sons. ves lined the streets, admiring the victor of the battle.


    "Prince, please help us..."


    "Dragonlord of Targaryen, do not let the vers return to Lys..."


    "Prince..."


    As Rhaegar rode his war elephant through the crowd, the ves cried out, kowtowing and pleading miserably with tears in their eyes.


    Lys had been defeated. The powerful nobles and most of the ve owners had been captured, and all the ves were liberated. Despite this, the ves remained apprehensive.


    They hoped that the owner of the dragon would stay behind to ensure that they would not be enved again. The streets and alleys were buzzing as the ves'' pent-up emotions were finally released.


    Rhaegar looked around, understanding their concerns. He raised his arm and dered, "I, Rhaegar of Targaryen, will break your shackles! Dragons do not allow very and oppression!"


    Ding! Ding!


    At the back of the procession, several Lys officials struck gongs to attract everyone''s attention. Another procession,posed entirely of ves, followed behind, holding stakes with living people or corpses nailed to them.


    These individuals, dressed in rich attire, were local powerful figures who had enved hundreds, forcing men tobor and selling women into brothels. Most importantly, they had resisted Targaryen''s rule.


    "Long live the Targaryens..."


    "Long live the Dragonlord..."


    Seeing their former oppressors brought low, the ves cheered, some even considering defiling the fallen lords.


    Rhaegar scanned the area and rode out of the alley on his war elephant. The truly powerful people of Lys had fled, leaving behind only those who had resisted.


    Lys''s political groups could be divided into the rich, themoners, and the ves. The rich had been dealt with, and thepliant ones pacified. The civilian poption, mostly hostile to the Targaryens, required soldiers to patrol and maintain order.


    The ves, despite suffering thousands of casualties during the city''s burning, weed the invaders as liberators, granting them freedom.


    ...


    Noon, the Magister''s Pce


    By noon, the procession returned to the Magister''s Pce.


    The city had been briefly cleared, with bodies removed and rubble from copsed buildings blocking some passageways.


    As they moved through the charred streets, white stone skyscrapers came into view.


    Johanna, d in a simple dress, looked on in anticipation.


    The Sea Snake led an army repairing the harbor in preparation for the capture of Tyrosh.


    The Vntis forces stormed the perfumed gardens, looting and enjoying themselves with impunity.


    When Rhaegar walked in, Johanna bowed and smiled, "Prince, are you satisfied with my work?"


    As her delicate figure sidled past, a dozen or so Lys officials stood in a neat row, heads drooping.


    These were the ones who had sumbed and were now tasked with restoring the livelihood and management of Lys.


    Rhaegar dismounted from the war elephant, smiling. "Good job. Many people were willingly submit to the Iron Throne."


    The parade and punishment of the powerful and noble had been Johanna''s idea��simple, rough, but effective.


    It had significantly won over the hearts of the people.


    The two walked into the Magister''s mansion, talking as they went.


    Johanna pointed to a mural of a goddess of lust on the wall and suggested, "Prince, faith is the best means of ruling. Supporting a faith will win the conviction of the civilians."


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow and quickened his pace.


    The beliefs in Lys were diverse. Besides the default goddess of lust, there was a mixture of other faiths.


    The Faith of the Seven Gods was indigenous to Westeros and wasn''t too popr here. Moreover, he didn''t want the Seven''s influence to cross the Narrow Sea and potentially restrict the Targaryens.


    After thinking for a moment, he said, "Let''s leave it for now and reconsider after we conquer Tyrosh."


    Myr and Lys of the Triarchy had fallen, leaving Tyrosh as thest of the three Free Cities.


    Tyrosh had been under siege for several days, and a decisive battle was imminent.


    Rhaegar pursed his lips, pondering, "It''s suspicious that Dorne and Braavos haven''t sent out their troops yet."


    Lost in thought, he walked back to the attic to dine.


    Creak-


    The guards pushed open the door to reveal a figure dressed in red waiting in the room.


    Rhaegar nced at the figure, secretly sizing him up.


    A tall man with pale skin, blue pupils, and a shaved head stood before him. What drew Rhaegar''s attention were the man''s deep eyes, seemingly full of wisdom, able to see through one''s heart.


    His face was covered in various tattoos, the most prominent being a twisted ck dragon on the left side.


    "Who is he?" Rhaegar asked, clearly displeased.


    He had a particr aversion to certain fanatics, especially those rumored to practice dark sorcery.


    Johanna, standing respectfully behind, replied, "Varys, an outcast of the Temple of R��hllor and a true blood sorcerer."


    Rhaegar stared at Varys, his tone nonchnt. "Youe from Vntis?"


    "I lived there for a while," Varys replied, forcing a smile. The tattoos on his face twisted as he continued, "I was born in Braavos, found my way to the Temple of R��hllor in Lys, and am currently cast out once again."


    Lys had a mixed faith, and though it had a temple of R��hllor, it was not as grand as the one in Vntis.


    Rhaegar stepped towards the table, his tone indifferent. "What do you want, and what can you do for me?"


    His attitude was cold, bordering on dismissive.


    Varys remained unfazed, his voice smooth. "I heard that your sister is pregnant. I know some Bloodmage and Pyromancer abilities and would like to serve as a teacher for your heir."


    Rhaegar''s gaze sharpened with suspicion. "You think I would let a stranger near my child?"


    "Prince, many of the Dragonlords of ancient Valyria were Blood Sorcerers and Pyromancers," Varys said, turning to face him. Feigning pity, he added, "I don''t hold pure faith in the Lord of Light or any other deity. I swear on my full knowledge that my intentions are not malicious."


    "I can''t believe you," Rhaegar responded, unmoved. He turned his head to Johanna, who stood by the doorway.


    Johanna smiled apologetically and stepped forward, maintaining her respectful demeanor.


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed slightly as he calcted his next move. Johanna, known as the "ck Swan," was skilled in manipting politics and controlling people. She had managed Lys''s affairs for him and now introduced Varys, a man with questionable faith.


    "She''s desperate for power," Rhaegar thought, seeing through her intentions.


    "Roar..."


    Tyraxes roared, pping his wings as he leaped onto the table, nibbling on a piece of roasted meat.


    Varys unabashedly scowled and introduced himself, "Prince, you can foresee the future through fire. The tide of magic is surging, and you need someone who understands magic by your side."


    It was clear he was interested in the young dragon.


    Rhaegar stroked Tyraxes''s skull and murmured, "Prove your ability to me, and I will consider your proposal."


    One statement from Varys had struck him: the magic tide was key.


    Previously, he hadn''t felt much, only a slight increase in the magic in the air. However, after his bloodline morphed into that of a Dragonborn, he became more sensitive to magic. The magical energy felt like waves converging, each surge higher than thest, churning powerfully.


    Coupled with the conquest of the Triarchy and the dragon''s footprints once again on the continent of Essos, Rhaegar thought it was time for his family to embrace the concept of magic to better protect their legacy.


    "Prince, most of my skills have never been utilized, so I hope you will not be disappointed," Varys said.


    He removed his hands from his sleeves, revealing fingers tattooed with strange symbols. He sped his hands together, and wisps of me emerged.


    Narrowing his eyes, Varys picked up the half-chewed and discarded meat from Tyraxes, smearing the saliva onto a porcin te. With onerge hand, he crushed the te, cupping the crumbs in his palm and rubbing them together.


    After a few seconds, Varys opened his hands, revealing a stone sculpture of a young dragon, solidified in ck dragonite, in his palm.


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed with recognition. "You really are a Bloodmage."


    "Excuse me. I stole this blood sorcery from the Temple of R��hllor in Braavos, and I remembered it only after hearing about the Twin Castles," Varys exined.


    He pushed the dragonite sculpture towards the jittery Tyraxes and said sincerely, "Prince, if you are willing to hire me, I can help you build a Topless Tower like those where the ancient Valyrian Dragonlords lived."

 Chapter 381: Dornish Invasion!

    Chapter 381: Dornish Invasion!


    A Topless Tower, was a special building in ancient Valyria.


    It was rumored to be dedicated to the forty Dragonlord families, housing the best Bloodmages and Pyromancers. These experts studied magic day and night, guided the armies of the expedition, and taught the Dragonlord heirs their knowledge.


    Rhaegar''s heart thumped, and he asked slowly, "You have simr drawings?"


    Constructing a Topless tower was a monumental task, akin to the grand high towers of House Hightower in Oldtown, nearly impossible for Westerosi craftsmen to replicate.


    Varys smiled knowingly. "Essos has a long history, and much of its knowledge is intentionally buried. I happen to be good at unearthing it."


    Rhaegar pondered for a moment before nodding in agreement.


    Both Westeros and Essos were steeped in legends and secrets, often jealously guarded and hidden away. Those grounded in theirnd''s history preferred to bury such knowledge rather than share it.


    After a brief smile, Rhaegar adopted a serious tone. "I will hire you, but for now, you must stay in Lys. You are not permitted to set foot in Westeros."


    Rhaegar was cautious by nature and wary of potential threats. Rhaenyra and the unborn child she carried were his life, and he couldn''t risk having a dangerous Bloodmage nearby.


    Varys dropped to one knee and said humbly, "Thank you for your trust, Prince Rhaegar Targaryen."


    Rhaegar scrutinized him and stated bluntly, "I''m considering building a topless tower in the future. You''ll have your hands full."


    ncing at Johanna, he added sharply, "The Magister''s political structure is wed. very must be dismantled, and a new system established, or there will be great trouble."


    Rhaegar, an exceptionally gifted dreamwalker, had experienced countless dreams and understood the harm and cruelty of very.


    The end of very represented the birth of monarchy. The Iron Throne of the Targaryens could rule the city-state, but the cement and survival of freed ves would constantly threaten the rule of those in power.


    With ve masters, ves had oppression but also meals. Without ve masters, ves would lose their basic sustenance and might try to overthrow their new rulers.


    Johanna, momentarily stunned, responded quietly, "I''ve recruited many ves to join the city-state''s construction team, and there''s a growing demand for various upations."


    In the nine free trade city-states, excluding a few ind and northernmost cold city-states, harbor cities like Pentos and Braavos were very wealthy. Braavos, with its unique system, powerful fleet, and "Iron Bank," controlled the world''s economy and hated very.


    The other city-states, including the Triarchy, Vntis, and Pentos (which signed the "Abolition of very" after its defeat), required many ves to work. These city-states were elective, with citizens having voting rights, but theirnd was insufficient to be divided among everyone.


    Thus, very was born and used extensively. ves had no rights and weren''t eligible to vote. They didn''t neednd, just sustenance, and performed over 80% of thebor in the city-states. Over time, the number of civilians dwindled while the number of ves increased, except for the small group of "rich" people at the top.


    Rhaegar aimed to disrupt this pyramid, pulling the rich from their pedestals and integrating the ves into themoners. Thend and work in the city-state weren''t enough to support so manymoners, so earning wealth through seafaring trade was essential.


    Rhaegar thought about it and joked, "If it''s not feasible, we might consider moving some of the poption back to Westeros to reim the unimed wastnds."


    "Your question is very prescient. I will give it serious consideration."


    Johanna''s eyes dropped and she fell into deep thought. Theplete abolition of very would mean a great cleansing and change for Lys. Change meant danger and could easily overthrow the existing rule. However, Rhaegar had suggested maritime trade and industrial development, so she might be able to take a chance.


    The conversation ended, and Johanna and Varys left one by one. Before leaving, Varys hesitated and said, "Prince, I wish for the safe birth of your heir."


    His words were strange, and his eyes nced vaguely at Rhaegar''s face, leaving him confused.


    Rhaegar froze for a moment, then became extremely alert. The Bloodmage''s knowledge covered many fields, and it was possible he had insights into healing or divination.


    Rhaegar lost his appetite and ordered the elite of the Second Son Regiment guarding the gate to summon someone.


    In less than a quarter of an hour, Syrio arrived with a dozen figures in ck robes, walking silently.


    "Prince."


    Syrio saluted respectfully, raising his hand to point at the ck-robed men. "They are members of the Shadow. What can I do for you?"


    Rhaegar nced at them and asked casually, "News from Dragonstone Ind?"


    Syrio, once the chief swordsman of Braavos and proficient in the "Water Dance" sword art, was skilled in assassination. Over the years, he had trained dozens of "shadows" to serve as intelligence scouts in various ces.


    Hearing the prince''s inquiry, Syrio replied, "Dragonstone Ind is guarded by Dragonkeepers. The Princess is safe, and the fetus is stable, Lady Laena''s is also in a normal condition."


    "That''s good."


    Rhaegar felt slightly relieved and asked, "Has Aunt Rhaenys left?"


    "Yes. The people of Myr were causing trouble and needed to be suppressed by a Targaryen dragon," Syrio said.


    Myr differed from Lys. Both civilians and ves had been spared by the dragons, and those with intentions to create rebellion had provoked unrest. Once Lys was stabilized and Tyrosh was conquered, it would be time to address Myr''s political structure.


    Having asked what he needed, Rhaegar held his forehead helplessly. "Keep an eye on Braavos and Dorne. I always feel unsettled."


    An enemy hiding in the shadows and not making a move could be more terrifying than an active threat. It would soon be time to return to King''s Landing to face troublemakers from all sides.


    ...


    Dornish Territory


    Sunspear, Fortress of House Martell and Political Capital of Dorne


    Located on the southeastern coast of Westeros, Sunspear is surrounded by the sea on three sides, just north of the Greenblood River. The castle, built of brownish-brown y and straw, is surrounded by a triple-curved wall, giving it an imposing and beautiful appearance.


    In the center of the citadel are several tall towers, including the Tower of the Sun - a magnificent structure with a golden vault and leaded ss. In the throne room, tworge carvednces and sun tattoos stand side by side.


    A figure sits on the seat of the carvednce, murmuring, "Lys has fallen as well."


    The voice, maic and filled with the experience of a middle-aged man, belongs to Qoren Martell, Prince of Dorne. As he sits up straight, his handsome featurese into view: long, dark hair, firm muscles under brown skin, and that exotic allure that is unique to the Dornish people, as if carved by knife and axe. He wears a thin yellow-brown robe with a low neckline, revealing hisrge pectoral muscles and exuding a strong masculine charm.


    Qoren snorts and leans back in his chair, sneering, "That fool Bambaro, does he really think that taming a wild dragon is enough to fight the Iron Throne?


    After more than a hundred years of development, House Targaryen is in its prime, boasting six adult dragon riders, not counting the Vryon siblings.


    As Prince of Dorne, Qoren is known as an idle adventurer. He once slipped into King''s Landing as an herbalist during the failed First Battle of the Stepstones. At the entrance to Dragonpit, he had caught a distant glimpse of the teenage Heir Prince - a handsome young man with a boyish look who treated his men kindly.


    Qoren marveled at the diversity of the gods, recalling how this boy, half his age, had tamed the world''srgest wild dragon, Cannibal, at just six years old.


    When the battle went badly, the boy mounted the dragon andunched a surprise attack on Lys, burning the city-state of the Triarchy to the ground.


    Three fires in a row killed more than ten thousand people. Thinking about it, Qoren felt a chill at the back of his neck. He had no desire to cross paths with such a "Dragon Executioner."


    Tap...


    Light footsteps echoed outside the throne room, and a little girl with dark, curly hair ran in.


    "Father!"


    The little girl smiled brightly, her brown skin soft and her eyes with an expression that belied her age.


    Qoren crumpled the letter he was holding out of habit and replied with a smile, "My daughter, who brought you here?"


    Aliandra climbed deftly onto the carved sunburst seat and raised her chin proudly. "Ie when I want to. No one can stop me."


    Aliandra Martell had just turned six that year. As Qoren''s firstborn daughter, she was the legal heir and future Princess of Dorne.


    "Aliandra, you''re being a bit disobedient," Qoren said, doting on his eldest daughter and resting his chin on one hand. "The Targaryen brats have taken Myr and Lys. When will you take a territory for your father?"


    Aliandra, with her spirited personality and bright blue eyes, replied boldly, "Then marry me to that brat and my children will inherit all of Westeros and the overseas city-states!"


    Qoren froze for a moment and thenughed. It was typical of his daughter to see things from such a unique perspective. It was hard to imagine a child saying such things.


    Knock, Knock...


    The heavy door of the throne room was knocked, and a tall figure with blond hair and blue eyes entered.


    Seeing the visitor, Qoren''s smile faded and he addressed him seriously, "Is the fleet ready?"


    "Yes, Prince."


    The visitor ignored the guards'' warning nces and stepped onto the marble floor inside the hall. He was a dry, slender man who looked to be about 40 years old, with slightly rough skin and sparkling blue eyes, like a hawk waiting to hunt.


    On his white frock coat, he wore a ck gate House crest on the sand��the emblem of House Yronwood, the most powerful ancient family in Dorne besides House Martell.


    Qoren looked at him and exined, "Lord Olyvar, the fleet in the harbors of Sunspear and nky Town must be ready to attack the Stornds."


    Olyvar bowed his head respectfully. "Braavos has sent arge amount of armaments, enough for a frontal assault on the Stornds."


    "The Sealord of Braavos is a fool, but a generous one," Qoren judged, then pointedly reminded, "Send a message to the vultures in the Red Mountains to hurry. Do not let the Iron Throne take the Triarchy so easily."


    The Free Cities'' greatest strength was their control of the ports. Now that the Stepstone Inds had fallen to the Iron Throne, the Triarchy was being upied one by one. The ports in the southern part of the Narrow Sea, such as Sunspear and nky Town, would not be able to trade smoothly in the future, their routes would likely be blocked.


    Olyvar nodded gently and said solemnly, "Prince, don''t worry. The armies of the Rivends and the Reach are traditionally weak, and the Lord of Highgarden is an old man. The vultures will gnaw at him."


    After a few more pre-battle preparations, he excused himself and left.


    Qoren watched his back, licked the corner of his lips, and grinned. "Be careful, but don''t die at the hands of the Stornds army."


    Dorne had been silent for a long time, reaping the benefits of Braavos and the Triarchy. Internally, Dorne was not united; there were always radicals and conservatives.


    The radicals believed they should attack the Stornds and the Rivends, plundering wealth to feed the barrennds. The conservatives thought the radicals were too timid and advocated joining forces with Braavos and the Triarchy to attack the Iron Throne and conquer richernds.


    Caught between these factions, Qoren''s sensible decisions were often not epted, leading him to instigate a war to cate both sides. Without war, the nobles under his rule grew stronger daily, eventually threatening House Martell''s dominance.

 Chapter 382: Aemond at Storm’s End

    Chapter 382: Aemond at Storm��s End


    That night, the moon and stars were sparse.


    nky Town, once a bustling harbor, nowy empty, with crimson bonfires lighting up the dark night.


    Qoren stood at the forefront, leading a group of Dornish soldiers d in tawny armor, gazing out at the lights on the pale sea.


    In the distance, hundreds of warships sailed into the mist, resembling a swarm of sandy scorpions emerging from their nests.


    The Dornish, known for their exuberant character, acted swiftly and decisively. Having agreed to fight during the day, they went directly to war by night.


    Qoren stood with his arms folded, a smile ying at the corners of his mouth. "Lys has reenacted the Battle of the Hundred Candles, creating unprecedented conditions for Dorne."


    With the Iron Throne''s main army outside the Narrow Sea, the garrisons were cut off from support.


    Daemon, the madman, was in the disputednds with the Young Heir Prince, leaving Westeros under the care of women, children, and old men unseasoned in battle.


    Braavos would join forces with other free-trade city-states to pressure the Iron Throne.


    The chaos in Myr and Lys, with their repeated rebellions, kept the Queen Who Never Was and the Heir Prince upied.


    As long as Tyrosh withstood the pressure from the Iron Throne''s besieging army, the Dornish forces couldunch a three-front attack into the Stornds and the Rivends.


    The Iron Throne would then face a dilemma, unable to decide whether to attack Tyrosh or support Westeros.


    A dangerous glint shed in Qoren''s eyes as he murmured, "Bambaro, you died well. If Lys hadn''t fallen, Dorne wouldn''t have had the chance to send out troops."


    The Iron Throne''s seizure of two city-states was a hot potato.


    The nine Free Trade city-states, former colonies enved by Ancient Valyria, were surprisingly resilient once their ports were controlled.


    Destroying the political structure and upying the city-states was one thing, but as long as there were wealthy people and civilians resisting colonization, the fight against invaders would never end.


    Seizing this opportunity, Dorne was able to sweep through the Stornds and the Rivends, throwing the Iron Throne into chaos.


    This unyielding will to harm the enemy, no matter the cost, was the fundamental factor that allowed Dorne to gain its independence in the First War of Conquest.


    "Father, my brother is freezing. Let''s go back."


    Aliandra, d in a thick ermine cloak, tugged at her father''s sleeve.


    When Qoren looked down, he saw his daughter''s indignant little face.


    Behind Aliandra stood a four- or five-year-old boy with dark hair and brown skin, shivering and blue from the sea breeze. This was Qoren''s eldest son, two years younger than Aliandra. He also had a three-year-old daughter who was too weak to be brought along.


    "Prince, let''s go back," spoke a middle-aged man with ck hair and gray eyes.


    He was tall and bulky, with thinning ck curly hair and a full beard. His gray eyes sparkled with intelligence. On his chest, he wore the yellow and crimson inteced me pattern of House Uller from Hellholt, one of Dorne''s ancient and well-known families.


    Qoren yfully grabbed his son''s face, smiling. "Olyvar has left. Let''s go too."


    Harmen Uller, with his big belly, followed behind and asked, "Prince, Storm''s End has nothing but a bunch of cowards left. You let Olyvar send troops-aren''t you just giving him the glory?"


    There was a hint ofint in his voice, disguised as a casual question.


    Before Dorne was unified by House Martell, House Yronwood was recognized as the strongest house, known as the "Lords of the Stone Way", the Uller House were bannermen to House Yronwood.


    When Nymeria, the warrior queen of the Rhoynar, crossed westward with ten thousand ships, she married Mors of House Martell and initiated a war to rule Dorne. Mors Martell died in the War of Unity, but Nymeriapleted the conquest by capturing the then king of Yronwood.


    At the start of the war, House Uller betrayed their liege lords, House Yronwood, dealing them a significant blow. This conflict persisted, still simmering under Martell''s rule.


    As he listened to Harmen, Qoren''s eyes grew intense. "Take the long view. We have more battle lines than just the Stornds."


    Harmen choked on his words and followed the group quietly.


    Prince Qoren was a ruler who met the expectations of the Dornish people admirably. Brave and skilled in battle, highly intelligent, and crucially, he was willing to heed his bannermen''s advice to start a war, maintaining the martial honor that defined Dornish culture.


    ...


    Cape Wrath, Clifnds by the Sea


    sh...


    A three-masted warship rode the wind and waves, Dornish gs��such as the A red sun pierced by a golden spear and the ck gate��flying high from the cabin.


    At the prow of the magnificent vessel, Olyvar, d in iron armor, stood on the deck, his eyes fixed on a sea cliff.


    His blue eyes smoldered with a cold aura, as if he were the night lord in the darkness.


    "Lord Commander, there is only one watchtower on the cliff bank. We can climb it using hook locks," a dark-skinned youth in full armor reported respectfully.


    Olyvar looked around the surrounding waters. A nket of fog had risen, reducing visibility to a mile. They had avoided House Swann''s patrol fleet and abandoned ns to attack from the pier near the family''s estate.


    A direct assault would result in wasted casualties; avoiding the enemy was the best strategy.


    After reviewing the situation in his mind, Olyvar drew his sword and ordered, "Elite forces, climb the cliff and destroy the defenders in the watchtower!"


    "Yes, Lord Commander!"


    The officer ryed themand, and several small boats silently approached the cliff, their upants flinging hook locks to secure themselves to the towering cliff face.


    With everything ready, dozens of Dornish elites began to climb.


    Olyvar watched from afar. The fog obscured his vision, and he could only make out a cluster of fires in the watchtower.


    Half a bellter, the fires dimmed and then two clusters of lights crossed, signaling a sessful invasion.


    Olyvar felt a surge of satisfaction but remainedposed. "Climb the cliff with me and circle around to attack Stonehelm!"


    Two dozen warships approached the cliff, and thousands of Dornish soldiers began scaling the rock.


    The rest of the fleet pulled anchor and sailed towards the docks of Stonehelm.


    A dual attack��one bynd, one by sea��was underway.


    ...


    The Next Day, Before Dawn


    The battle at Stonehelm Pier had concluded, and all the defenses along the road had been neutralized by the surprise attack.


    The garrison soldiers were routed, retreating to the stronghold of House Swann in Stonehelm to fend off the Dornish siege.


    The Dornish forces, nearly at full strength, executed their cunning strategy with such precision that the original defenses were overwhelmed.


    In the end, tens of thousands of Dornish soldiers converged from all directions, surrounding Stonehelm, a city made of green-hued rocks.


    Lord Swann guarded the city gates with strict vignce, releasing a dozen raven messengers to plead for aid.


    ...


    Storm��s End Castle


    "Roar..."


    In the castle''s courtyard, an ugly, brown, y-colored dragony prostrate on the ground, its withered head turned east.


    "Baa~~"


    A dozen goats bleated and wiggled their fat butts as they were herded nearby.


    With a sour expression and a goat whip in his hand, Aemond muttered to the dragon, "Eat, eat, eat, you ugly thing."


    "Roar..."


    The Sheepstealer, as the dragon was called, rose, its mud-colored wings spread wide and its neck stretched out. Its vertical pupils gazed condescendingly at the silver-haired boy before opening its jaws and spewing dragonfire to roast the sheep.


    The dragon crawled slowly to the ground, wings outstretched, then lowered its head to pick up the charredmb and began to nibble.


    Aemond pursed his lips and took a few steps closer to touch the dragon''s scales. The Sheepstealer''s scales were rough and lumpy, like jagged stones.


    However, with no other dragons to touch, he made do.


    Snap!


    As soon as he got close, the dragon''s thick, long tail whipped around and knocked him to the ground.


    Aemond saw the blue sky spinning above him beforending hard on his back.


    "Sheepstealer!" he yelled furiously.


    "Roar..."


    The Sheepstealer shook its head, finishing themb in one gulp,pletely ignoring the irate silver-haired boy.


    Frustrated by theck of response, Aemond scrambled to his feet, pointing angrily at the ugly dragon before stomping back into the castle in indignation.


    Entering the castle gate, he ran into Cassandra, who was dressed in a long pink and white dress.


    "Aemond, where are you going?"


    "None of your business, stupid woman!"


    Cassandra had just opened her mouth and was almost left breathless by her fianc��''s harsh retort.


    As the two brushed past each other, Aemond huffed and puffed his way up the stairs without a thought of conversation.


    Cassandra looked back at him, tears welling up in her eyes.


    Aegon Targaryen had been a notorious prodigal who didn''t want to marry the sisters. Yet, she hadn''t expected for him to be reced by Prince Aemond, who, though gentle and generous on the surface, revealed his true colors as soon as they were betrothed.


    A political marriage, devoid of any genuine emotion.


    ...


    Aemond returned to his room and mmed the door shut with a bang. He didn''t care if his so-called fianc��e was sad or angry. His mission was to fulfill the marriage contract, not to be a doting husband.


    Not to mention that Cassandra was a self-righteous, foolish woman, even worse than her older sister, Hena, who always had a dopey demeanor.


    Walking over to the bed, he tilted his head back and plopped down onto the soft goose feather mattress. As soon as the white skin of his neck touched the fabric, a damp coolness hit him instantly.


    "Damn this ce!" Aemond cursed, flopping onto his side in annoyance.


    Although the Red Keep was also built by the sea, it had been restored by Maegor I and Jehaerys I, boasting an atmospheric appearance andfortable living conditions.


    Storm''s End Castle, on the other hand, was a thousand-year-old fortress perched above the sea and surrounded by rough waves on all sides. When it rained, water seeped from the chimneys and the dampness was everywhere.


    After tossing and turning for a while, Aemondy on his back, staring lifelessly at the green ceiling.


    Storm''s End was a strategic location, receiving countless letters daily. He learned of the construction of the Twin Castles on the Stepstones Inds and of his older brother Rhaegar''s overwhelming conquest of Myr and Lys. It seemed that Tyrosh would soon submit to Rhaegar as well.


    "I want to go to war," Aemond muttered, full of grievances. "Aegon has a castle, but I still have to guard this miserable ce."


    His brother Rhaegar had single-handedly built a dragonstone castle, or rather two twin castles in one. Aemond was full of envy.


    Knock, knock...


    A knock sounded on the door, and Maester Fett''s urgent voice came from outside. "Prince, a distress letter from Stonehelm Castle."


    Aemond''s eyes lit up at the words, and he jumped up quickly, shouting, "Come in!"


    The door opened and the young Maester Fett entered, handing him an unsealed letter. "The Dornish have invaded in force. Stonehelm City is under siege, and the Lady has asked me to summon you for a meeting."


    Aemond snatched the letter and examined it with a furrowed brow. It was a plea for help from Lord Swann, stating that the Dornish had taken advantage of the night tond and were now beseiging Stonehelm. He hoped that Storm��s End would mobilize troops to support them.


    "Heh," Aemond scoffed. "The Swann House is finally afraid?"


    He hadn''t forgotten about Lord Swann supporting that bastard son''s rise to power.


    "Prince, it is better for you to go to the hall to join the Lady first," Maester Fett advised cautiously.


    "Of course," Aemond said, jumping out of bed and strutting out. "Finally, something useful for me to do."

 Chapter 383: Viserys’ Dream of Going to War

    Chapter 383: Viserys�� Dream of Going to War


    Noon, with the sun in full bloom


    King''s Landing


    The streets and alleys were packed with people, blocking the main path from the Red Keep to the River Gate.


    Five shiny ck warhorses pulled a cart, draped in a ck veil, inside whichy the enormous ck and silver dragon head.


    In just a few short days, news of Rhaegar''s glorious victory over Lys and the liberation of over 100,000 ves had spread throughout King''s Landing.


    The people were filled with pride and excitement, eager to witness the triumphal procession with their own eyes.


    They hoped that the Heir Prince would soon capture the entire Triarchy.


    ...


    Red Keep, Council Hall


    Viserys sat at the head of the table, his elbows propped on the tabletop, smiling with the weariness of old age.


    Hand of the King Lyonel Strong rose to report, "Your Grace, Morghul''s dragon head has been transported from the harbor. Shall it be paraded?"


    Lyman, seated at the end, nodded and looked at the king inquisitively.


    The ferocity of the Lys attack had been widely rumored back to the Red Keep, and they had all heard of the difficulties involved. Hundreds of well-equipped mercenaries had driven warships, and tens of thousands of defenders had died defending the harbor. Lys had even tamed the wild dragon Morghul, forcing a dragon battle.


    Thanks to Prince Rhaegar''s valor, he defeated Morghul with his Cannibal, crushing thest hope of Lys. The Battle of the Dragons was rumored to be the "Battle of the Mad Dragons" both inside and outside of the Narrow Sea.


    The names of Rhaegar and Cannibal were now renowned, and the titles of Ruin Maker and Deathwing could stop a child from crying.


    Viserys listened quietly and then solemnly said, "Don''t parade it. Morghul is a Targaryen dragon. Transport it back to the Red Keep for proper disposal and keep it in the cer."


    Lyonel, with a straight face, replied, "The artisans are ready, just waiting for the dragon''s head."


    Viserys nodded, a hint of pity in his eyes. Morghul was a wild dragon of the Smoking Sea, not originally belonging to the Targaryens. Its nature was like an unimed treasure. The Targaryens had lost it, and it had fallen into the hands of the vile Lys.


    As ast resort, Morghul perished. A dragon that should have belonged to the Targaryens had be a meal for Cannibal. This way of feeding a dragon to another was very heartbreaking to Viserys.


    "It''s a good thing the dragon didn''t stray, and Rhaegar is safe," Viserys thought, suddenly feeling relieved. In his heart, his eldest son was his most precious asset, with his own dragoning in second.


    Otto Hightower, spoke next, his face solemn. "Your Grace, in the Battle of the Narrow Sea, we have upied Myr and Lys. Many wealthy individuals have been ughtered, and civilians and ves now make up the majority of the city-states'' poptions. To appease these people, the kingdom will need to supply an astronomical amount of food."


    This was not rmist talk but based on actual experience from the attack on Myr. There was plenty of food in the two city-states, yet much of it had been shipped off by the rich ahead of time for hoarding. As the city-states were overrun, the wealthy either fled or were massacred, leaving the remaining food supplies insufficient.


    Myr and Lys, not counting the civilians, had hundreds of thousands of ves to feed. The fastest and most convenient way was to buy food from other free trade city-states. However, in a war of aggression, other city-states would refuse to provide food.


    Even Pentos and Vntis, valued as allies, demanded outrageous prices, more than a dozen times the usual amount, driven by greed and Braavos''s influence using the Iron Bank.


    Viserys hesitated for a moment and asked, "Approximately how much grain is needed, and can the Rivends and the Reach be taxed topensate it?"


    Hundreds of thousands of mouths sounded like a lot, but it was actually half as many as the resident poption of King''s Landing.


    The two regions were the high grain-producing areas of Westeros, and temporarily requisitioning 100,000 army rations could be done, ensuring that hundreds of thousands of ves would have enough to eat and drink.


    Otto frowned and muttered, "Your Grace, Braavos has set the price of grain too high, and the nobles may be more inclined to sell to the Iron Bank at such prices."


    Braavos and Pentos were the free trade city-states that had the most interaction with Westeros. The great nobles often befriended them to promote mutual trade. Many second and bastard sons of minor nobles traveled to these city-states to be high-priced mercenaries.


    Nobles in financial trouble often borrowed money from the Iron Bank. During the reign of Jaehaerys I, arge sum of money was borrowed from the Iron Bank to build the King''s Road, which connected King''s Landing to various locations. The Iron Bank''s influence on the treasury was considerable.


    Viserys'' face instantly turned stern, his stance firm. "The kingdom is at war. The two regions must be requisitioned for food withoutpensation. This is not open to discussion."


    His children were on the battlefield, and he would never allow anything to go wrong at home.


    "I will find a way. Please ask Lord Ormund Hightower to hold a tax meeting in Oldtown." Otto agreed after a moment''s thought.


    Lyman, who had been silent until now, frowned slightly and interrupted, "Lord Otto, Lord Tyrell of Highgarden is the bannerman. Don''t overstep your bounds in the tax meeting."


    This old man was born in the Honeyholt of the Reach and was himself the Lord of Honeyholt. In theory, Honeyholt was a direct bannerman of Hightower and should support Otto. However, Lyman, who had been loyal to the royal family for many years, had his own judgment and remembered the word loyalty.


    Viserys noted the exchange, looked around at Otto and Lyonel, and reminded them, "Notify Lord Tyrell and Lord Tully as soon as possible, so as not to dy the battle at the front line."


    "Yes, Your Grace," Otto replied, grimacing.


    Lyman hummed in satisfaction and sat back.


    Ever since the king married Otto''s daughter as his queen, House Hightower had be increasingly audacious. Meanwhile, the House Tyrell in Highgarden was thin, and the old lord was mediocre. The Hightowers in Oldtown had gained an inexplicable control over the Reach.


    Bang! Bang!


    Just then, two dull knocks rang out.


    Viserys looked up in surprise and saw Tormund, dressed in ck and white robes, enter hurriedly with a grave expression.


    "What happened?" Viserys inquired.


    Tormund walked around the conference table and approached, his eyes heavy. "Your Grace, Dorne has struck, crossing Cape Wrath to besiege Stonehelm Castle."


    Storm��s End was some distance from King''s Landing, so the ravens had taken longer to deliver the message. It had just reached the Crow Tower in the Red Keep.


    Aemond exined the situation and delivered the letter.


    A storm of thoughts erupted in the council chamber as the gravity of the news sank in.


    Lyonel''s face tightened as he spoke first, "I propose that a group of King''s Landing troops be called up immediately and put on standby."


    "The one under siege is Stonehelm; we should mobilize troops from Storm''s End," Master of Law Jasper suggested casually.


    Lyonel remained calm and replied, "Dorne''s invasion of the Stornds could trigger a shift in the Narrow Sea War. King''s Landing needs to have a readily avable army for emergencies."


    Either to pacify the war or to support the Narrow Sea beyond.


    Jasper paused, realizing the gravity of the problem.


    Viserys nodded in agreement, "I will order a force of three thousand men to be assembledter."


    Otto continued, "The Dornish areing in strong. The army surrounding the city alone is 10,000 men. Storm''s End must send troops as soon as possible.


    Stonehelm was only a Lord''s territory, with no more than 500 knights and no more than 3,000 infantry, horsemen, and archers under itsmand. Given the urgency of the Dornish siege, the food within the castle would not necessarilyst long.


    The Small Council was highly efficient and quickly discussed a detailed response n. At the start of the Narrow Sea War, Rhaegar had anticipated that the Dornish would send troops and had a pre-nned strategy.


    Tormund''s face rxed slightly as he hesitantly said, "Your Grace, Prince Aemond also sent a letter requesting permission to ride the dragon for battle."


    "Aemond?" Viserys froze at the words and said with a headache, "How old is he? He''s not as calm as Hena. He should stay at Storm��s End Castle."


    Hena''s deed of riding the dragon to aid Gulltown had spread widely, and her poprity in the Crownds and the Vale was only second to Rhaegar. Viserys was impressed with his previously unappreciated daughter.


    Tormund sighed and smiled bitterly, "I''m afraid it''s a bit difficult. The prince''s letter states that he has already gathered the army of the Stornds to prepare for a counterattack."


    As the son-inw of House Baratheon, Aemond had the authority to do this with Lady Elenda''s cooperation.


    "Damned boy!" Viserys exploded in anger, saying indignantly, "He hasn''t even been on the battlefield. He has nomand ability."


    In the two Battles of the Stepstones Inds and the Narrow Sea War, only three people showedmand abilities: the Sea Snake, Daemon, and Rhaegar. Even Rhaenys, known as the Queen Who Never Was, couldn''tmand the army and could only cooperate with the three in war.


    Tormund remained silent, as he was only in charge of intelligence within the royal family.


    Viserys''s chest rose and fell in anger, his violet eyes darting around as he proposed, "I will ride Vermithor into the Stornds and use the power of the dragons to drive the Dornishmen back."


    "No!"


    As soon as the words left his mouth, Lyonel objected.


    Otto raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Your Grace, you are king of a country. It is better not to be in danger."


    The rest of the advisors nodded in agreement.


    Viserys'' cheeks flushed with frustration. "Just because I''m the king, that''s all the more reason to fight for the peace of the realm."


    He wasn''t the same man he had been a few years ago; he had inherited his grandfather''s dragon the "Bronze Fury."


    Lyonel persisted in his objection. "With all due respect, you are more worrisome than the young and inexperienced Prince Aemond."


    "You are not a warrior," Lyman added from the sidelines.


    Jasper nodded thoughtfully. "The Dornish are vile and cunning. Their every move affects the entire realm. It is better not to put yourself at risk."


    The advisors spoke one by one, disliking the idea of the king going on the expedition.


    Viserys'' face reddened further, and he snapped, "Fine, I won''t!!"


    With that, he stormed out, leaving behind a group of stunned advisors.


    The king''s outburst hade out of nowhere, and the counselors looked at each other in surprise.


    After a while, Lyman asked slowly, "Do we still want Prince Aemond to go to war?"


    "Of course. Even a young Targaryen is still a Targaryen, and he has tamed a dragon," Jasper hastened to answer, voting in favor. His house was in the Stornds as well.


    Lyonel and Otto exchanged nces, remembering the image of the king storming out, and silently agreed. It was better for a prince to go to war than for the king himself to march.


    Before Rhaegar had traveled farther to the Narrow Sea, he had given Prince Aemond permission to ride his dragon and go to war.


    "s, I''ll write a letter to requisition provisions," Lyonel sighed and got up from his seat.


    Rubbing his balding curls, he felt the bare spot in the center growingrger, with a tendency to continue spreading. Mentally, he murmured, "I will do my best."

 Chapter 384: Alicent’s Resentment

    Chapter 384: Alicent��s Resentment


    In the evening, after dinner


    Viserys returned to his residence in a low mood after reviewing the medals.


    "Your Grace."


    Inside the room, Alicent had been preparing for a long time. Two romantic red candles were lit on the round table.


    "Still not resting?"


    Viserys forced out a smile, noticing his wife in full dress and the romantic atmosphere. A slight stirring in his lower body quickly subsided.


    With the war, the pressure on him increased with each passing day. The good news of Rhaegar''s capture of Myr and Lys and Hena''s swift aid to Gulltown never ceased. The daily surprise and joy stimted his already fragile nerves.


    Bedtime with Alicent had be a rare, once-a-month respite. Despite his wife''s beauty, his already injured body was overwhelmed.


    Standing still, Viserys felt slightly embarrassed.


    Alicent''s fine eyebrows raised slightly as she smiled, "Quickly sit down. I specially prepared snake soup for you. The maester said it is very good for the body."


    "Luckily, I have you."


    Viserys made a perfunctory remark, feeling like he was sitting on pins and needles.


    "You are the king, your health is important. Rest well tonight."


    Alicent served a bowl of soup herself, subtly easing her husband''s worries. She wasn''t a lustful woman; her husband''s affection was dispensable, and too much of it often backfired.


    "That''s good. I couldn''t resist tasting it."


    Viserys sighed in relief, picked up the soup, and slurped it down.


    Alicent sat down next to him, ruffled a strand of hair, and asked softly, "Is Aemond going to war too?"


    Viserys sipped his soup and remembered the annoyance of being rejected by the council. He replied in a clipped voice, "That boy is eager for war, and I, his father, can''t stop him."


    One by one, his children were very productive, making him feel mediocre as the father who stayed at home. He also wanted to fly out of King''s Landing on Vermithor, recreating the upstart father-son rtionship from the time of the King of JaehaerysI.


    Alicent heard the dissatisfaction in his words and pretended to be pitiful, "Aemond is still very young. He just wants to defend the kingdom for his father and gain your attention."


    "Uh..."


    Viserys was speechless, unable to think of a word in defense. It was true that he didn''t care enough for his second sons and daughters, and it was understandable that Aemond wanted to follow Hena''s example.


    Alicent''s eyes emptied as she said ruefully, "With the exception of little Daeron, all my children have appeared on the battlefield."


    The unintentionalmentation was full of worry.


    Viserys put down his spoon at that, no longer able to drink the fragrant soup. He put his arm around his despondent wife and gently persuaded her, "The children have grown up and have their own ideas."


    "Viserys, I am their mother. How can a mother not worry about her children?"


    Alicent broke away from her husband''s embrace and said seriously, "Don''t you understand? They went to war for you, for Rhaegar, whom you have entrusted everything to."


    She had wanted to put on a show to win her husband''s sympathy, but her husband was a master at feigning confusion. She couldn''tmunicate without being blunt. She had to make him understand that their children were in danger because of his decisions.


    Viserys'' face stiffened and he said sullenly, "Rhaegar is your child, too."


    Alicent''s eyes were full of aggression as she asked, "When has he ever considered me his mother?"


    "Have you ever thought of Rhaegar as your own?"


    Viserys felt the conversation turning ridiculous and asked bluntly in return.


    "I... at least did my duty."


    Alicent''s eyes reddened and her hands unconsciously clenched into fists. They say stepmothers are evil, but who knows how hard it is to be a stepmother? Rhaenyra hated her, and Rhaegar, raised by her, was distant.


    Compared to them, who were indifferent to her, she, the stepmother, was always tolerant, for the Hightower House taught honor, sacrifice, and nurturing.


    Viserys sighed at her words and covered his forehead. "It seems that when the war is over, it''s time for us to hold a family meeting."


    People with weak personalities tended to be more sensitive to emotions. The conflict between his eldest son and daughter and his wife Alicent had been umting over time, and sooner orter, it would erupt.


    Fortunately, his eldest son was powerfull enough to overpower his half-siblings. Even if the issue was brought out into the open, there was no need to worry about a major conflict.


    Alicent was worried and angry, gritting her teeth. "What can be discussed? It''s just another form of favoritism."


    "I''m doing my best to level the ying field," Viserys said, physically and mentally exhausted, in an aggravated tone. "Until then, stop arguing."


    Alicent pursed her lips, took a deep breath and looked away. Arguing was pointless, and her husband wasn''t the type to be swayed by a fight.


    The bedroom fell into a brief silence.


    By the time the soup stopped steaming, Viserys'' stiff face had loosened and he reassured, "Look on the bright side. The war is going well and our children are safe."


    He emphasized the word "our."


    Alicent scoffed inwardly, but outwardly she maintained her gentle image and said, "The Dornish are treacherous and cunning, and they once shot down a giant dragon. Aemond is not safe."


    "That was an unforeseen ident when Meraxes flew too low."


    Viserys, quite speechless, affirmed, "Dorne invaded the Stornds. The battlefield is t, and the dragons are invincible there."


    In the War of Conquest, 100,000 allied troops from the Rivends and the Wesnds were incinerated in the fury of a battle on the ins. On the unprotected ins, Viserys had full faith in the dragons.


    "Viserys, do you still not understand what I''m saying?"


    Alicent pped her forehead and said helplessly, "My child serves the realm for you, for... forget it."


    Her eyes met Viserys'' and she insisted, "I''m just saying, don''t always focus on your two children. Love my children more."


    "They are also sacrificing!"


    Viserys'' eyes wereplicated and silent. He seemed to understand Alicent''s thoughts. With the defeat of the Triarchy, the kingdom''s territory had expanded, and rewards would be a matter of great urgency. Alicent asked for recognition and rewards for "her children."


    Viserys averted his eyes and said, "I''ve kept it all in mind."


    "Words not spoken, you will choose to forget," Alicent said quietly.


    Viserys shook his head and smiled bitterly. "Think what you will, I will not mistreat my children and Rhaegar will not mistreat his younger siblings."


    The words fell, and there was another moment of silence.


    After a good half hour, Alicent wiped the corners of her eyes, unable to pick out her blood-stained fingernails, and helped her husband to get up and go back to bed to rest.


    Before extinguishing the candles, she initiated a chat, "Hena wrote to me. Laena returned to Driftmark Ind, and Rhaegar transferred her back to Dragonstone Ind to keep Rhaenyrapany."


    "Are the sisters getting along well?"


    "Of course, Rhaenyra is pregnant, and her "servant" is very attentively."


    "..."


    ...


    Early the next morning.


    News of the Dornish invasion reached Lys, and the letternded on the table in the Magister''s mansion.


    "Roar..."


    Tyraxes bounced around carelessly, itsrge head bobbing, pping its wings as it slowly took off.


    Rhaegar read the letter and nonchntly pped Tyraxes'' head with his hand, subduing it instantly.


    Tyraxes''s hind feet iled about, and his mist-colored wings flopped down on the tabletop, chirping indignantly.


    "y aside."


    Rhaegar tossed out a handful of his tail, leaving the young dragon in midair, struggling to keep its bnce.


    Tyraxes opened its scarlet dragon''s maw, still trying to get back at Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar didn''t even raise his head, an inexplicable sense of oppression unconsciously released.


    Tyraxes was startled and unconsciously closed his mouth.


    Poof!


    The umted fine dragonfire exploded in its mouth, shaking the young dragon''s body.


    Tyraxes'' head swayed, ck smoke spewed from its mouth, and it snapped uncontrobly, falling to the ground.


    "Hee hee, this little one is so much fun."


    Johanna watched the whole thing from the sidelines, a pair of affectionate and amorous eyes flowing between Rhaegar and the dragon.


    Having defected to the Iron Throne, her position of power had risen step by step. From the former Magister''s lover and intelligence steward, she was promoted by the Iron Throne''s heir to Grand Steward of Lys.


    Rhaegar nced at her and said lightly, "Are you done with your work?"


    Johanna''s smile stalled, and her dignified demeanor barely held steady. More than a hundred thousand mouths were waiting for her to feed; how could she ever be idle?


    Rhaegarzily ignored her and took out a pen and paper to write a letter, one to King''s Landing and one to Storm��s End.


    The Dornish invasion was expected, just not at this point in time. It was thought that they would attack during the assault on Lys, thus triggering a two-front war. From this, it was clear that the so-called alliance between the Triarchy and Dornish was also each running towards their own interests.


    Johanna, realizing she had asked for trouble, decided to work diligently and inquired, "Prince, Tyrosh has been under siege for a long time, and Daemon has urged action several times."


    "Is the Archon of Tyrosh''s attitude still as stubborn as ever?" Rhaegar asked, not pausing from his writing.


    Johanna straightened up slightly, "Milov is a mercenary by trade, believes only in his sword, and will not surrender easily."


    "And the rich and grassroots of Tyrosh? How are they reacting?" Rhaegar considered another angle.


    The fleet blockaded the harbor, halting all trade. Whether it affected the wealthy or the anxious civilians and ves, there should have been some reaction.


    Throughout the sieges in Westeros, as well as various wars in Essos, it was always a matter of attacking the heart before attacking the city. He and Aunt Rhaenys sat in Lys and Myr, consuming and pressuring the Archon of Tyrosh.


    Johanna frowned slightly, "Milov has used the burning of two city-states to incite the civilians against the Iron Throne army, while the rich and ves are forced toply under his leadership."


    Civilians have been easily swayed in every age, believing whatever those in power say. However, a handful of wealthy individuals and ves with no rights were not so easily manipted and were directly suppressed by force.


    Upon hearing this, Rhaegar couldn''t help but snort, "Tyrosh relies on the rich to rule the city-state, and he''s dying a slow death by suppressing them."


    All generations of Tyrosh''s rulers had bribed the wealthy to get into the position. This bad habit was ingrained, and the people of Tyrosh saw no wrong in it. ording to them, a person who couldn''t even bribe was not qualified to lead them to prosperity.


    Johanna smiled and agreed wholeheartedly.


    Don''t underestimate the customs of a ce; that''s the key to rule.


    Rhaegar quickly finished writing the letter and instructed, "If Braavos doesn''t make a move, Tyrosh can''t hold out for long. Notify Daemon toy siege for another half month."


    This was probably the time limit for Tyrosh''s wealthy, who could not stand the blockade and would rebel against Milov''s tyranny.


    Rhaegar pondered, "The Dornish are tough, and their soldiers have a high fighting spirit. I fear that Aemond will not withstand the pressure."


    The Narrow Sea War had reached a critical moment, and it was prudent for his father and Hena to guard King''s Landing and Dragonstone Ind. Beyond the Narrow Sea, there were a total of five dragon riders.


    He and Aunt Rhaenys were guarding one castle each and could not be moved easily. Aegon guarded the Stepstones Inds and oversaw the transportation of supplies, ying a pivotal role. Daemon, needless to say, was constantly besieging Tyrosh and could not be distracted.


    Scratching his silver hair, Rhaegar thoughtfully said, "Write to the Sea Snake and transfer Laenor back to the Stornds. There''s no future in just patrolling the seas."


    Johanna''s eyes twinkled as she obediently replied, "Yes, Prince."


    She appreciated a smart partner, especially one like the prince, whose calm demeanor and strategic mind were far superior to her previous alliances.

 Chapter 385: Daemon’s Determination, Blood Wyrm Burning the City

    Chapter 385: Daemon��s Determination, Blood Wyrm Burning the City


    It was dusk.


    The setting sun painted the Tyrosh sea in a brilliant reddish hue, like an ink drawinge to life. Dozens of warships were anchored, forming a solid line of defense. On a small ind, a temporary camp was set up.


    Daemon stood facing the setting sun, his deep eyes reflecting aplex mix of emotions. His pitch-ck armor was marked with scars, and a crimson cloak draped over his elbows. At first nce, he seemed like a general savoring a moment of tranquility.


    However, the letter clutched in his hand, now crumpled, and the incessant chatter of the soldiers behind him disrupted the serene scene. Ignoring the noise, Daemon called an adjutant and asked calmly, "Laenor rode off on Sea Smoke?"


    "Yes, Ser Laenor was heard supporting the Stornds," the adjutant replied, his voice trembling slightly as he stole nervous nces at Daemon''s face.


    Even though Prince Daemon''s voice was calm, a bone-chilling coldness emanated from him, making the adjutant uneasy. Daemon paid no heed to the nervous adjutant, instead focusing on the letter with its clear handwriting.


    [Surround and do not attack, wait for Myr and Lys to draw troops to support...]


    "Still have to wait," Daemon murmured, shaking his head with a sneer.


    He had followed his nephew''s orders, helping to capture the city-states of Myr and Lys, achieving significant sess in battle. Before the war, he had discussed with his brother the promise of a share of the titles if he captured a city. Now, despite taking two city-states, his nephew had shown no intention of honoring that promise, not even mentioning a word about dividing one city-state to him.


    Well then, if his nephew didn''t recognize his achievements, he wouldn''t bother with them. He had personally led the army to besiege Tyrosh, only to be told to wait, day after day. And now, with the Dornish invasion of the Stornds, Laenor, who had been assisting him, was also reassigned.


    "Huh..."


    Daemon shook his head, a sarcastic smile forming on his lips as he handed the letter to his adjutant. "Exactly how long am I supposed to wait?" he asked casually.


    The adjutant''s face tightened, and his voice trembled as he replied, "Prince, the letter says half a month..."


    "Half a month?" Daemon''s eyes sharpened, cutting through the adjutant''s timid facade like a de.


    In one swift motion, Daemon tore the letter to shreds, sending the confetti scattering and catching the reddish hues of the setting sun.


    ttering sounds filled the air as Daemon pulled the dragon-winged helmet from under his arm and walked expressionlessly toward the boisterous group of mercenaries.


    The dyed-haired, leather-armored mercenaries were unmistakably Tyrosh. Unaware of the impending danger, they continued their aggressive chatter.


    "Prince Daemon, I advise you to retreat quickly. The Archon will offer you gold equal to your body weight."


    "If the Iron Throne army does not retreat, Braavos and Dorne will destroy the Iron Throne..."


    "A bunch of brawling clowns, what a racket," Daemon muttered in disgust. He grabbed one of the mercenaries by the head and swung the dragon-winged helm with a sickening thud.


    Boom! Boom!


    The deafening sound abruptly silenced the chatter, reced by the stter of blood.


    Daemon threw the lifeless body to the ground, skull crushed. His face, now stained with blood, wore a devilish smile. "I will personally strike down Tyrosh and im a city-state in my name."


    The remaining henchmen tried to flee in terror.


    Daemon calmly wiped his dirty helmet with his cloak.


    Soldiers rushed in, swords drawn, and quickly turned the mercenaries into a bloody mess.


    After the bodies were dragged away, the soldiers knelt in a circle around Daemon. Ten years after leaving Westeros, the Rogue Prince''s reputation stillmanded respect.


    Rhaegar had an elite group of sworn Second Sons, and Daemon, his uncle, would not be outdone. Daemon''s years in the free-trade city-states had honed his skills at gathering and buying mercenaries to serve him.


    By the start of the Narrow Sea War, he had amassed an army of over 5,000 men.


    Daemon surveyed his men, his long, disheveled hair now slicked back with bloodstained hands. He put on his helmet without a word.


    "Prince, where are you going?" the adjutant asked anxiously.


    Daemon didn''t look back. "Get the hell back to your master and tell him to return to Dragonstone Ind. Tell him Rhaenyra will soon have milk for him too."


    He had no patience for waiting for a city-state to copse from within. He wanted to im a city-state immediately, paying the price in blood and fire.


    "Roar..."


    A scarlet dragon shadow cut through the fiery sky, its Roar echoing for miles.


    Caraxes descended from the clouds, pping its wings for a swayingnding.


    Daemon climbed onto the dragon''s back, leaning down to stare at his men. "Inform the entire army: attack Tyrosh while it''s still night!"


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes''s eyes shed with bloodlust as it carried Daemon into the sky, its serpentine body twisting as it soared out to sea.


    ...


    At night, a bright moon hung high in the sky.


    Tyrosh.


    The harbor was heavily guarded. Dozens of battleships patrolled in batches, and a massive bonfire illuminated the night as if it were day.


    "Patrol carefully! Don''t let Westeros'' spies sneak into the city!" yelled the bearded mercenary chief, standing side by side with several lookouts. He spat on the ground and red at his subordinates.


    Tyrosh''s fleet couldn''t venture out of the harbor, but it surrounded the city-state, creating an imprable irond defense.


    Suddenly, thin clouds stirred in the sky as a cool sea breeze blew in.


    High above, a slender behemoth was concealed, cold purple eyes observing the defenses below.


    Fifty nautical miles away from Tyrosh, dozens of warships converged, lurking in the pale sea under the night, just waiting for an order.


    ...


    The Archon''s Residence


    Milov, a mercenary by trade, was living a life of indulgence, lounging with two scantily d beauties, reveling in his temporary peace.


    Inside and outside the mansion, two thousand soldiers from his mercenary corps guarded every level of thepound, ensuring that not even a fly could slip through. The mansion was grand, featuring pavilions and attics in the front yard and a garden with flowing water in the back.


    In a white stone attic, lit by candlelight, a dozen or so luxuriously dressed men and women were holding a private meeting.


    Bang! A bearded man pounded the table and said angrily, "Milov is a bastard! What does he take us for, daring to put us under house arrest!"


    "He''s just a lowly mercenary, a liar with no credibility,"ined a red-haired old woman, her voice shrill with frustration.


    Some of the attendees responded, while others remained silent, an oppressive mood filling the room. They were the upper echelon of Tyrosh''s wealthiest citizens.


    After the Second Battle of the Stepstones, the city-state had been devastated by a dragon attack, and the rich had suffered heavy losses. Milov, a young mercenary, took advantage of the chaos to loot and use his forces to position himself as an Archon, rallying under the banner of avenging the Iron Throne''s aggression.


    However, Milov''s true nature as a cruel tyrant was soon revealed. He exploited themoners even more than his predecessors, forcibly extractingrge sums of money from the wealthy to fund his war efforts. When Myr fell, he demanded even more. With Lys fallen and the Triarchy in jeopardy, Milov tightened his grip, forbidding the wealthy to flee and keeping them under house arrest in his mansion.


    "Everyone, perhaps you would like to hear me out," a solemn, middle-aged man with purple hair spoke up.


    "What is your idea?" The rich stoppedining and stared at him in unison.


    "What''s your idea?" The rich stoppedining and stared at him in unison.


    The man remained calm and said, "Milov''sck of trust has caused internal and external problems in Tyrosh. I know that everyone here has raised a group of private soldiers. Why don''t we ughter him?"


    The red-haired crone scoffed, "If we kill the Archon, who will block the Iron Throne''s army for us?"


    "Exactly," several wealthy individuals nodded in agreement with uneasy looks.


    Despite being under house arrest, they were notpletely powerless. If they really wanted to escape, they could join forces with their private forces, but it would cost them.


    The purple-haired middle-aged man said, "Myr and Lys have fallen, Braavos and Dorne are watching. Do you really think Milov can stop the dragons?"


    Hearing this, the bearded man who had spoken first turned around, forcing him to ask, "What deal did you make with the Iron Throne?"


    Immediately, the eyes of the rich people changed and stared at the purple-haired middle-aged man, desperately wanting to know more.


    Seeing no point in hiding anymore, the man confessed, "I am a business partner of Lys'' ck Swan. We oppose Milov''s rule, and Rhaegar Targaryen''s forces are open to negotiation."


    "Ridiculous, you''re a business partner with a whore who owns a brothel," someone replied.


    "Don''t argue, let''s negotiate," the bearded man demanded.


    The man persisted, "Milov''s cruelty has made Tyrosh a target. The Targaryens need us to keep trade alive and the economy going."


    There was a brief pause as the room filled with murmurs of agreement and skepticism.


    "Is the news credible?" someone asked.


    The man replied confidently, "The Targaryens have upied two city-states. They need the support of the wealthy to sustain themselves. We can provide food and money."


    The reasoning was sound, and the eyes of the rich began to light up with possibility.


    "Let''s n," someone finally said.


    "I bought out a guard outside the attic; he can tip us off," another offered.


    "I''ve bribed a group of mercenaries at the port; they can send information and maps to Lys," another added.


    "Milov''s new whore was sent by me. She can slip drugs into his wine," someone else suggested.


    The n was clear.


    Seeing the unity, the purple-haired middle-aged man chuckled, "Since we all agree, I''ll write the letter."


    Wooooooooooo...


    Just as he rose from his chair, a distant, low horn sounded.


    "What''s themotion?" someone asked in surprise.


    The bearded man''s face stiffened, and he immediately ran towards the window, eximing, "It''s the harbor horn! The Iron Throne''s fleet is attacking!"


    "Wait... what?" The purple-haired man froze, unable to process the sudden turn of events.


    Turning his head, his eyes looked through the zed window into the dim night sky.


    Everything appeared calm and peaceful, as usual.


    Suddenly, a sh of scarlet appeared, followed by a sharp roar.


    "Roar!"


    A snake-like scarlet dragon rushed straight toward the Archon''s residence, its wide wings enveloping the attic. In an instant, raging Dragonfire descended.


    Boom��


    The purple-haired middle-aged man''s eyes widened in horror before he was incinerated by the scarlet Dragonfire, his screams cut short.


    Caraxes turned and flew away, using the cover of night to target other parts of the mansion, spraying Dragonfire relentlessly.


    "Well done, Caraxes!"


    Daemon sat firmly on the dragon''s back, his gaze coldly fixed on the Archon''s bedroom, searching for his next target.

 Chapter 386: Vhagar Descends!

    Chapter 386: Vhagar Descends!


    Under the twinkling stars, scarlet fire spread across Tyrosh.


    Caraxes soared nimbly, hovering over the Archon''s mansion and spewing Dragonfire furiously.


    Two thousand mercenaries quickly rushed to their positions, hiding behind buildings and drawing their bows and hurling spears.


    Caraxes didn''t flinch, spewing fire relentlessly, ignoring the arrows crashing against his scales.


    asionally gliding low, the dragon''s back exposed Daemon.


    "Shoot the arrows and target the dragon rider!" a mercenary yelled, eyes gleaming as if he saw a mountain of gold.


    Bows and spears fired faster, creating a cage of projectiles.


    Daemon looked down and said indifferently, "Fools."


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes roared harshly, spreading its wide scarlet wings to shield himself, deflecting most of the projectiles.


    As a battle-hardened dragon, its scales were strong and wing membranes tough, out of the usual crossbow''s damage range.


    Turning his icy pupils towards the mercenaries, Caraxesnded violently, stretching its neck and spitting Dragonfire crazily.


    The scarlet Dragonfire swept like a broom, leaving behind only screams and wails.


    One person and one dragon wreaked havoc; the mansion''s emergency bell rang, summoning guards from all directions.


    Mercenaries inside the mansion fled,unching their scorpion crossbows and nimbly filling their steel spears.


    Realizing the approaching danger, Daemon grimaced andmanded, "Fly!"


    Caraxes stopped spitting fire, using his wings to push off the ground, soaring easily and rushing into the night sky.


    No matter how the mercenaries aimed, they couldn''t cause any damage.


    Daemon looked down at the burning buildings below, eyes filled with disdain.


    The pavilions were engulfed in mes, white stone walls smoldering and ckened, charred corpses and debris littering the ground.


    Seeing the growing number of guards outside the buildings, Daemon''s eyes turned cold, and he said, "Support the harbor."


    In one fell swoop, they had broken the city''s order, drawing the garrison to the mansion and creating an opportunity for the fleet''s assault.


    Unfortunately, he hadn''t found that pig-like Archon to feed him to the dragon.


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes obeyed, spitting onest mouthful of Dragonfire at the arriving garrison before soaring towards the harbor.


    At the same time...


    Dozens of warships broke through the patrol ship''s defenses and rushed into Tyrosh harbor with great force.


    The horn sounded, putting the harbor on full alert and fortifications were manned to defend to the death.


    Patrol ships returned, and a naval battle broke out with the Iron Throne fleet.


    Within a quarter of an hour, the harbor was in mes.


    ...


    Three days passed in the blink of an eye.


    The adjutant, driven away by Daemon, arrived at Lys Harbor on a smuggling ship and reported the information without dy. Daemon had initiated the war privately and forbade the ravens from spreading the news, forcing the adjutant to cross the disputednds to deliver the report.


    The news first reached the ears of the Sea Snake stationed in the harbor, then quickly made its way to the Magister''s mansion.


    Lys, the ruins west of the city.


    Hundreds of elite soldiers of the Second Sons Regiment, d in armor, stood in two rows, forming a wide passageway in the middle.


    At the end of the passage, a huge dragon as ck as charcoaly prostrate, statuesque and motionless as it slept.


    Tap...


    At the other end of the passage, the sound of powerful footsteps slowly approached.


    Rhaegar, dressed in a pure ck dragon rider armor, walked steadily down the passageway.


    "Prince, war has broken out; you need to calm down," Johanna''s face was grave as she followed closely, her slender legs keeping pace.


    "I''m not losing my cool," Rhaegar''s voice was calm, revealing neither happiness nor anger.


    He knew that Daemon had a problem with him, and their feud had been buried ten years ago. But Daemon shouldn��t have vented his dissatisfaction in this manner. War was a continuation of politics, and taking a city-state did not mean ruling it effectively.


    Myr and Lys had just been captured, and Targaryen had yet to gain a firm foothold. Rhaegar did not want further bloodshed and preferred a softer approach to stabilize the situation.


    At least, he wanted people to remember the "Battle of the Narrow Sea" not just for its blood and fire, but for Targaryen''s justice, strictness, and tolerance.


    Johanna quickened her pace but still fell behind, asking urgently, "The war hassted three days; rushing over now won''t help."


    She thought the prince intended to stop the war or rally the remaining wealthy individuals. The presence of the rich was like a duck thatid golden eggs for a free-trade city-state.


    "The situation has changed," Rhaegar replied as he reached the end of the passage.


    Standing by the neck of Cannibal, he ground the dragon''s scales twice before climbing the softdder woven with hemp rope. Smelling a familiar odor, Cannibal''s nostrils stopped snoring, and its stern green vertical pupils instantly opened.


    In a sh, a dull, oppressive odor swept through the air, mixed with a hint of ash stench, making it hard to breathe.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal growled lowly and shook its massive body to stand, its pitch-ck wings and hind feet slowly emerging from the rubble.


    Rhaegar hung onto the softdder, swaying lightly, climbing onto the dragon''s back and straddling the newly cast ck steel saddle. After devouring Morghul, Cannibal had been in a deep slumber.


    It was uncertain whether the dragon''s flesh and blood provided nourishment or if Rhaegar''s bloodline metamorphosis had boosted it, but Cannibal had grown noticeably in less than half a month. The rope woven with special material broke, and the ck iron saddle needed recement.


    Thus, Rhaegar had sought craftsmen to cast a new set of dragon rider equipment.


    Boom...


    Cannibal''s vertical pupils were cold and unfeeling, and its wings pped the rocks, triggering a ground tremor.


    Johanna wanted to pursue the matter but was scared back by the dragon''s aura, too afraid to approach.


    "Calm down," Rhaegar calmed the giant dragon, bent his head, and said, "Notify the Sea Snake to deploy a medium-sized fleet of three thousand men and twenty ships, and rush to Tyrosh immediately."


    "Yes, Prince," Johanna nervously replied, her expression frozen as she came into close contact with a adult dragon for the first time.


    Rhaegar turned back and patted the dragon''s back, "Let''s go, partner!"


    The pig he had raised had been ughtered by Daemon prematurely, and the city-state could not afford any more idents.


    "Roar-"


    Cannibal leapt up and zipped into the thin clouds.


    "Roar..."


    Another shrill roar responded as the light gray dragon shadow followed deftly.


    Over a hundred thousand pairs of eyes within the city-state looked up in unison, the fear of being burned by the evil dragon striking their hearts once again.


    Cannibal''s appearance was menacing, and its dark dragon body resembled an evil god''s descent.


    The Grey Ghost hung behind it like a white specter.


    It is likely that another city will be on fire this time.


    ...


    Tyrosh.


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes let out a shrill cry, weaving through the city-state and spewing Dragonfire to wreak havoc.


    Daemon rode on the dragon''s back, his armor battered and pitted with arrow craters, his expression icy and intense.


    Hundreds of high towers filled the city-state, each armed with scorpion crossbows aimed at the dragon and its rider.


    Whoosh!


    A steel spear flew past, grazing the broad dragon wings.


    Daemon nced back and forth andmanded, "Burn down that tower!"


    Caraxes swiftly moved towards the attacking tower, unleashing a furious stream of Dragonfire.


    "Ahh!"


    "Shoot, shoot..."


    Under the Dragonfire''s intense heat, the tower''s stone walls began to crack, the fire surging through doors and windows, incinerating the garrison inside.


    Swish, swish, swish...


    As one tower burned, several nearby towersunched a coordinated attack, their steel spears aimed at the dragon.


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes dodged hurriedly, abandoning the smoldering tower and climbing high into the sky.


    The relentless attacks over three days and nights were testing the dragon''s endurance. The frequency of Caraxes'' wing ps showed its exhaustion.


    Realizing this, Daemon spoke in a deep voice, "Caraxes, let''s go!"


    He, too, hadn''t slept for three days and nights, his eyes bloodshot and weary.


    Caraxes, relieved by themand, quickly left the battlefield, disappearing into the clouds.


    ...


    In the harbor, the mes of battle raged fiercely.


    Boom!


    The stone throwersunched their flints, heavily bombarding the enemy warships.


    Daemon''s fleet, forced out of the harbor, engaged in brutalbat with the Tyrosh fleet on the open waters. Both sides unleashed their stone throwers and scorpion crossbows with relentless fury. The warships shattered into splinters, and the decks became abattoirs of blood and flesh.


    It was as if a colossal meat grinder had descended upon the blue sea.


    "Fight for the Iron Throne!" a King''s Landing knight roared, swinging his greatsword aboard a warship.


    "All men must die!" the mercenaries bellowed, eyes gleaming with the lust for gold, sacrificing their lives in the deadly fray.


    On the first night of the attack, Daemon''s fleet had sessfully raided the harbor,nding a significant number of soldiers. But the defenders, with their superior numbers, had managed to force them back.


    Daemon,manding Caraxes to dominate the skies, still couldn''t prevent the relentless scorpion crossbow attacks. Forced to retreat, he redirected his assault to the city''s buildings.


    "Roar!"


    Caraxes soared through the air, its vertical pupils scanning the warships bearing the banners of the Triarchy. Once again, it unleashed dragonfire.


    Boom!


    Dragonfire engulfed the ships, and the mercenaries on deck screamed as they leaped into the sea, their bodies ame.


    Daemon watched the destruction coldly, riding his dragon with ruthless ambition.


    Caraxes, unconcerned about friendly fire, continued to spew Dragonfire indiscriminately, escting the bloodshed.


    The chaotic assault caused a riot.


    A young officer with silver hair and dark skin from the Vryon branch shouted, "Prince, we can''t hold the harbor. We need to withdraw!"


    In war, momentum was everything. After three days of relentless fighting, the soldiers were exhausted. Instead of pushing their limits and sacrificing more lives, it would be wiser to withdraw and recuperate.


    Daemon''s face was grim. He was determined to fight to the bitter end. The soldiers under hismand could die, and dozens of warships could burn. He was even willing to risk his life and Caraxes'' in the process. His pride wouldn''t allow him to retreat in defeat.


    "Roar!"


    Caraxes sensed his rider''s determination, roaring fiercely as he dove back into the fray, spraying Dragonfire and decimating enemy ships.


    The dragon''s fire seemed endless, its stamina unwavering.


    After a grueling half-hour of high-intensity bombardment, an opening finally appeared in the enemy fleet. The Iron Throne''s fleet quickly adjusted, pushing back the enemy troops and charging straight into the harbor.


    Warships anchored, hook locks were thrown along the coast, and soldiers poured out.


    Daemon led the charge, riding Caraxes at the front, two dozen scorpion crossbows in the vanguard. Man and dragon, unflinching, were determinated to carve a bloody path.


    "Scorpion crossbows, prepare!"


    Inside the watchtower, the mercenaries'' faces were grim. They aimed their giant crossbows at the scarlet dragon.


    Daemon''s eyes gleamed with madness. His voice, hoarse from shouting, bellowed, "Dracarys!"


    "Fire!"


    Scarlet Dragonfire erupted as dense steel spears shot out, and the two sides shed head-on.


    In that moment of life and death, there was no retreat.


    "Dracarys!"


    Suddenly, a clear voice rang out, shattering Daemon''s fierce resolve.


    "Roar!"


    A roar as loud as thunder echoed. A huge green dragon stormed the battlefield, spewing orange Dragonfire mixed with thick smoke.


    The Dragonfire, fierce like an erupting volcano, melted the steel spears into molten puddles of iron.


    "Roar!"


    From the midst of the inferno, Caraxes surged forth, carrying an unharmed Daemon.


    Daemon froze in astonishment, looking back.


    He saw Laena''s face.


    "Roar!"


    Vhagar roared deeply. Its massive body, resembling a giant mountain, unleashed a torrent of Dragonfire.


    The intense heat melted stone and iron alike. The Dragonfire swept across half the harbor, incinerating everything in its path.

 Chapter 387: Laena Gives Birth

    Chapter 387: Laena Gives Birth


    ��Laena!�� Daemon shouted, startled by his wife''s sudden arrival.


    Without a moment��s hesitation, Laena called out crisply, ��Dracarys!��


    ��Roar���� Vhagar swooped down, unleashing Dragonfire that shattered the defenses of several watchtowers before quickly taking to the air again. Laena, with her silver hair flowing in the wind, rode gracefully in the saddle, her shoulders bound in chains for security. Restricted by her pregnancy, she wore no armor, only a thin white dress.


    Vhagar, like a protective mother, flew fast and steady, ensuring Laena��s safety. Daemon stared for a moment before quickly grasping his wife��s intentions.


    ��Roar���� Caraxes, sensing the unity, shot up into the sky, following Vhagar and spewing Dragonfire in synchronization.


    Over the eight years of traveling the Free Cities, the bond between Daemon and Laena had deepened, mirrored by the connection between their dragons. Vhagar and Caraxes frequently soared together, disying scenes of two dragons dancing in perfect harmony.


    Rewind twenty to thirty years, and the masters of these two dragons were Aemon and Baelon, known for their legendary achievement in the ��Hundred Candles Battle.��


    ��Dracarys!�� Laena��s eyes were resolute as shemanded Vhagar to break through the harbor��s defenses, carving a ming path of destruction.


    Vhagar roared repeatedly, its vertical pupils indifferent to the chaos, its huge body a relentless killing machine.


    Even Caraxes, powerful as it was, dared not approach too closely, instead nking to provide support. Despite Vhagar��s age and gradually aging body, it disyed an unparalleled destructive force, living up to his name as the Goddess of War


    ��Attack!�� Daemon shouted. ��Siege the free city����


    With the two dragons dancing in deadly harmony, the morale of their forces soared. They charged into Tyrosh, following the scorched path left by Vhagar��s fiery wrath.


    In moments, Tyrosh descended into chaos.


    ...


    A squad of guardsmen rushed up the tower, aiming their scorpion crossbows at the sky.


    "Roar!" Vhagar''s war consciousness was strong, and the dragon''s head aimed at the tower, spewing ck smoke and rolling Dragonfire.


    Laena crouched low, protecting the child in her womb. She had received secret messages from several of her cousins about Daemon''s intent to wage a private war. Each day, her worry and depression grew.


    Now she understood how Vhagar felt. Determined to correct her husband''s mistake, she mounted Vhagar''s back, fulfilling her duty as both wife and dragon rider. With a mournful whimper, Vhagar carried her across the Narrow Sea. The old dragon had finally returned to the battlefield.


    "Laena, help the army in the alleys!" Daemon, worried, urged his wife to stay out of range of the scorpion crossbows. Vhagar was toorge, easily bing a living target among the tall towers.


    At 170 years old, Vhagar''s scales had hardened over time, bing harder than steel. Even the Cannibal''s strengthened scales were not as thick. Age had not only weakened Vhagar''s body, it had also increased his ability to survive.


    Daemon shook his head and smiled. His wife, inheriting his cousin''s quick mind, was much smarter than him. The couple rode their dragons, destroying towers as they soared above the city. With dragon support, the army''s morale soared, driving them straight into the city.


    Within an hour, the army defeated the defending forces and surrounded the Archon��s mansion on the west side of the city. Caraxesnded boldly, stepping into the mansion''s vestibule.


    Daemon looked around. The mansion was silent, a scene of abandonment.


    Bang! The mansion gate was violently broken down, and soldiers poured in.


    Daemon''s face darkened as he ordered coldly, "Search every corner. Don''t spare a single soul!"


    Archon Milov had insulted him with numerous letters. Daemon was determined to roast him alive.


    ...


    Tyrosh, a hidden beach on the east side.


    "Move quickly."


    "Hurry, or it will be toote."


    Hundreds of well-equipped mercenaries fled, led by the brash Milov. They carried crates of gold, silver, and jewelry, and in the middle of the group, seven or eight rich prisoners were bound and dragged along.


    Milov looked back at the city and saw the huge green dragon hovering like a massive mountain, pressing down on Tyrosh.


    "Gulp." Milov swallowed hard, envy and jealousy twisting his face. "Damn it, howe Targaryen has so many dragons?"


    He had thought he could barely resist with only Daemon attacking the city. The Sealord of Braavos had sent a message urging him to defend the city-state to the death, promising support from a hidden fleet in the Narrow Sea.


    Bullshit! Sealord Braavos was clearly swindling him, using him as bait to attract the Iron Throne''s attention. As a mercenary, he knew when it was time to cut and run.


    p p p...


    The tide surged onto the beach, and several small sailing ships hid outside the reef.


    "Get on board, and don''t lose my treasure and hostages!" Milov shouted, drawing his sword to deter his men with his remaining authority.


    "Roar--"


    Suddenly, a pair of pitch-ck wings covered the sky, and the beach echoed with a flood of roaring.


    Rhaegar looked down and immediately saw the fleeing mercenaries. Smoke churned in the city, signaling that the war was nearing its end.


    "Dracarys," Rhaegar said in a clear, cold voice.


    Cannibal''s green vertical pupils glowed coldly, and spewed raging Dragonfire.


    Zira...


    The green Dragonfire descended like smoke and mist. Upon contact, it wrapped around its victims, scorching flesh and turning bodies into dry, charred corpses.


    The mercenaries wailed in agony, unable to escape, rolling around in vain attempts to extinguish the mes.


    "Ah! It hurts!"


    A mercenary, his upper body engulfed in Dragonfire, screamed as he ran, colliding with Milov like a headless fly.


    Milov was knocked to the ground, the Dragonfire instantly clinging to his leather armor and spreading to his head and face.


    "Bastard, what kind of fire is this!"


    His tight skin burned through, and Milov screamed in agony, convulsing as if having a seizure. The mes burned through his skull, and the convulsions gradually ceased.


    Boom...


    Cannibalnded with a crash, scattering gravel everywhere. The dozen or so remaining mercenaries were terrified, their legs trembling as they looked up at the evil dragon before them. The rich had long since gone limp, men, women, and children wetting their pants.


    Screams filled the air, and the vision of green mes flickered, as if they were in the seventhyer of hell.


    Rhaegar took a few nces and said ndly, "Are you the rich merchants of Tyrosh?"


    The only ones who could escape at a time like this were the elite of Tyrosh. Those who could be bundled up and taken along were naturally the wealthy within the city-state.


    A bearded man nodded furiously and hurriedly said, "Honorable Dragonlord, we have money!"


    "We also promised ck Swan our allegiance to you," another person immediately added, afraid they would miss their chance if they spoke toote.


    The rest of the rich people rolled onto their knees and bowed in fearful submission. With such arge dragon in front of them, their respect and honor seemed exceptionally fragile.


    Rhaegar''s eyes twinkled as he said, "Don''t worry, with your allegiance to me, blood and fire will not befall you."


    Sweeping his eyes over the trembling mercenaries, he coldly said, "The same goes for you. Forsake evil and protect these people, and I will forgive your sins."


    "Yes, merciful Targaryen Dragonlord!" The dozen or so mercenaries knelt down in surprise, as if they had been reborn.


    "You all stay here and wait for my men to pick you up afterward," Rhaegar ordered, patting the dragon''s back and taking off towards the city.


    As he rode the dragon over the beach, he unconsciously hooked his lips into a smile. He had thought the pigs they raised had been ughtered, but fortunately, a few lucky ones had survived.


    ...


    Meanwhile, the entire western city center of Tyrosh was captured. The remaining six thousand troops were divided into three groups: three thousand to the southern city, two thousand to the northern city, and one thousand stationed in the western city.


    In the Grand Army Residence, Vhagar had destroyed most of the towers and slowlynded in the mansion''s vestibule.


    "Laena," Daemon called out as he immediately climbed down from the dragon''s back, his armor clinking with every step.


    Laena, her forehead beaded with sweat, unlocked her shoulder chains and began descending the softdder. Before she couldnd, Daemon took her by the legs and back, smoothly catching her.


    Looking at his wife, whom he hadn''t seen in a long time, Daemon yanked his helmet off roughly and asked eagerly, "Laena, why are you here?"


    Laena''s expression wasplex as she stared at her husband in silence.


    "Why aren''t you saying anything?" Daemon asked, confused.


    Her eyes filled with disappointment, Laena finally questioned, "Daemon, Rhaegar''s military order was to surround but not attack. How dare you start a private war!?"


    Daemon frowned slightly, unhappy with the turn of events. "I blocked the news. Who told you?"


    "Daemon, I am your wife!" Laena''s frustration boiled over. "My family has risked their lives for you. Do you think you can hide this from me?"


    Growing impatient, Daemon said in a deep voice, "I fought for honor, to win a territory that belongs to me and to the child in your womb!"


    "You only have honor and your pride in your eyes. Don''t use me and the child as leverage!" Laena''s disappointment turned to anger as she shouted, "For the sake of your pride, you''d rather sacrifice the soldiers who follow you. You''re only doing this for your own selfish desires."


    Having been his wife for many years, she understood his personality better than Daemon did himself. Beneath the lonely, arrogant, and magnificent exterior of the Rogue Prince was a selfish, paranoid, and reckless man��sometimes less understanding than a child.


    Daemon''s temper red. He nced at Laena''s swollen belly and forced himself to say, "Whatever you say, I''ve already struck down Tyrosh."


    "You struggled to make peace with the king. Have you thought about how you''re going to face your brother after this battle?" Laena''s anger was palpable, her breath growing sharper.


    Fed up with wandering and her husband''s constant foolishness, she felt a sudden warmth between her legs. Laena''s face nched. Ignoring the soldiers around her, she reached under her skirt, fumbling.


    When she pulled her hand out, her fingers were stained with blood.


    Daemon froze in ce, his expression turning to one of shock and fear.


    Laena''s pale lips quivered. "I seem to be inbor."


    She had been sleepless and depressed for the past month. After the argument with Daemon, her water broke.


    Daemon''s face changed drastically. He rushed to Laena, picked her up, and carried her to a nearby attic building, shouting anxiously, "Go call the apanying maester, quickly!"


    The soldiers didn''t dare to be slow, rushing out of the mansion to summon help.


    ...


    Not long after, Cannibal soared above Tyrosh, surveying the chaos below.


    "Roar..."


    A wail full of emotion echoed far and wide.


    Cannibal''s green vertical pupils locked onto the Archonh''s mansion in the western city center.


    Rhaegar was stunned for a moment, then said suspiciously, "Vhagar?"


    He recognized Vhagar''s grief-filled wail immediately.


    "Cannibal, rush over."


    Rhaegar frowned, sensing something was wrong.


    Cannibal turned and soared away.


    Soon, the dragonnded outside the mansion''s gate.


    "Prince..."


    The soldiers guarding the gate brightened up and saluted.


    Rhaegar nodded and barged straight into the mansion.


    As he entered, Vhagar''s huge, distressed form was conspicuous, lying among the rubble and wailing uncontrobly.


    From hundreds of meters away, Rhaegar saw Daemon standing grimly in front of an attic door, at a loss for words and iling around.


    Rhaegar stepped forward, about to speak.


    "Ah! Come out quickly..."


    Laena''s anguished scream echoed from behind the door, filled with heartbreaking pain.


    Rhaegar winced, choking back the words that came to his mouth.


    There was only one thought in his mind:


    "She''s giving birth! It must be hurting like hell!"

 Chapter 388: First Meeting in the Reflections of the Moon

    Chapter 388: First Meeting in the Reflections of the Moon


    As the minutes dragged on, Laena''s agonized cries grew more intense and desperate, each cry a testament to the intense pain she was enduring.


    Crunch...


    The attic door creaked open, and an old maester with a deeply furrowed face emerged, moving with hurried steps.


    Daemon''s face tightened, and he rushed to meet him.


    The old maester, sweat dripping from his brow, whispered urgently, "A full-term pregnancy is ten months, but Lady Laena is only eight months along. It''s extremely difficult for a premature baby to be born safely."


    Laena had conceived earlier this year, and now, inte July, she was eight months pregnant. With the medical limitations in Westeros, premature births were dangerous and often equated to difficultbor.


    Daemon, stunned by the maester''s words, nced anxiously toward the attic and asked, "Is there any way to ensure a smooth delivery?"


    "I learned a technique in the Citadel to assistbor, but it doesn''t work for every woman," the old maester replied, his voiceced with helplessness.


    Daemon, momentarily dazed, patted the maester''s shoulder and said heavily, "Do everything you can to protect my wife and child."


    "I will keep you informed of any developments," the maester assured, wiping the sweat from his face before quickly returning to the attic and closing the door behind him.


    Daemon stood there, watching the door close, then turned and scratched his long hair in bewilderment.


    Laena''s firstbor had gone smoothly, resulting in the birth of twin daughters. With that experience, Daemon had hoped this time would be safer.


    "Uncle," Rhaegar''s voice broke through the tension, his eyes filled with concern as he approached.


    Daemon nced at him briefly, then tugged off his cloak and discarded it, continuing to pace restlessly in front of the attic door.


    He had noticed his nephew''s arrival but chose to ignore it out of sheer frustration.


    Seeing Daemon''s distressed state, Rhaegar took a deep breath and decided to let it be.


    Before arriving, he had many things to say. But with Laena inbor, any words felt out of ce.


    "A woman giving birth is a terrible ordeal," Rhaegar muttered to himself, stepping back from Daemon.


    With that, both uncle and nephew fell silent, each retreating to his corner, lost in thought.


    Daemon''s mind was consumed with worry for his wife and the prematurebor, while Rhaegar''s thoughts wandered to Rhaenyra and the memories of his mother''s difficult childbirth.


    "Roar..."


    The only sound in therge vestibule was Vhagar''s low, mournful roar. The old dragon, sensing its rider''s pain, let out wails of sadness mixed with anger.


    Time seemed to stretch endlessly.


    The birth was not yet over, and Laena''s screams gradually weakened, fading into an unsettling silence.


    Bang-


    The old maester burst out of the door, his dry, thin hands stained with blood.


    Daemon, his face a mask of worry, hesitated to speak.


    The old maester��s expression was despondent as he apologized, "There��s really nothing I can do. The child refuses toe out."


    Daemon��s heart sank. He moved toward the attic, but stopped halfway, his gaze fixed on the scene inside.


    "Push hard... ma��am... push hard..."


    "Ah... ha..."


    In the spacious hall, arge bed had been improvised. Several demurely dressed women bustled around with basins of water.


    Laena was kneeling on the bed, her body sprawled forward, hands clutching the sheet as she wailed in agony. Her loose white dress was soaked with blood, her desperate cries echoing through the room.


    The old maester followed quickly, his voice sorrowful, "I��m terribly sorry, Prince."


    Daemon stood silently, his eyes locked on his wife. He murmured, "My brave wife."


    Laena had helped him win the battle to take Tyrosh. Now, without rest, she fought alone on the birthing bed.


    Rhaegar, who had arrived quietly, leaned against the wall to listen. Laena was his acknowledged cousin and housemate, the rider of Vhagar, and he had no intention of leaving.


    "Ma''am... you need to push... hard."


    "Ah... get out..."


    Laena''s hoarse voice echoed through the room. Her body was tense, shaking with effort, tears streaming down her face.


    The pain was unbearable.


    The women around her anxiously encouraged her, wiping her sweat and checking on the progress of herbor. With no one else in the Archonh''s residence and the neighboring civilian physicians hiding, unwilling to help the invaders, the only assistants avable were the women who had given birth before.


    The old maester hesitated before speaking, "We can perform a cesarean section, but I can��t guarantee the child will survive."


    Rhaegar��s head snapped up, his eyes fixed on Daemon and the old maester.


    His mother had died from a cesarean.


    Daemon, obviously thinking the same, nced quickly at his nephew in the corner.


    Without much thought, Daemon asked hopefully, "Can the child��s mother survive?"


    He was more hopeful for his wife��s safety than for the child��s uncertain future.


    The old maester drooped his eyelids and shook his head helplessly.


    In cases of difficultbor, both mother and child often died. With a cesarean, at least the child had a chance of survival.


    Daemon��s head buzzed, leaving him frozen in ce, unable to think clearly.


    He looked helplessly at his wailing wife, unable to utter a word.


    "Prince, please make a decision as soon as possible," the old maester urged, knowing that every second of dy increased the danger.


    Daemon��s heart was in turmoil. Leaning against the wall, he shook his head in silence.


    He was not a man who took childbirth lightly. To him, a woman��s birthing bed was as much a battlefield as any other.


    It was a battlefield on which he felt unqualified to make a choice for Laena.


    "Prince..."


    The old maester tried to persuade but found no words.


    "Why don''t you choose?"


    Rhaegar spoke abruptly.


    Daemon turned his head, licking his dry lips.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were heavy as he stepped in front of his uncle and said, "Laena is dying. You have a choice to make."


    "No!" Daemon shook his head, "I can''t decide if she lives or dies."


    "But she needs a decision," Rhaegar said firmly.


    Daemon continued to shake his head, muffling his voice, "My brother made a choice once, and he may have won, but I don''t want to gamble on it."


    Rhaegar had only cried once at birth, then fell into a three-year-long slumber. Had it not been for the healing of a Shadonds witch, it was unlikely he would have woken up.


    His older brother was born before him, was king of a country, married the woman he loved, had an heir to the throne, and had always been luckier than him. Daemon recognized himself as an unlucky man and did not want to get on this table.


    Rhaegar, mixed with emotions, lost his smile and looked down, "You''re right. No one can decide life and death for someone else."


    Clenching his fist and pounding his shoulder, he rounded the corner and headed down the hall, saying in a deep voice, "Then ask the person involved what they want."


    "Ah..."


    Laena was sweating profusely, her screams gradually weakening and exhausting.


    Hearing footsteps, Laena gasped deeply, lying on the bed and staring in a lost daze.


    Seeing Rhaegar dressed in ck, she smiled bitterly, "I don''t want to die in such a sorry state."


    She had heard the conversation around the corner and was aware of her own situation.


    The child had been refusing toe out,pletelycking the feeling of thest birth. This child, more than likely, would not survive.


    Rhaegar walked over to the bedside and whispered, "The choice is yours. I will do my best to keep you safe."


    With a flip of his wrist, he took out a zed candle. Stretching out the palm of his right hand, he shone a deep sh across his palm, and crimson blood dyed the seven-colored ze red throughout.


    "Watch this, there is only one chance."


    Rhaegar reminded, extending his intact left hand.


    "Roar..."


    Wisps of ck smoke emerged, and the sound of snakes hissing came out.


    Laena''s eyes widened as she saw a bizarrely dark little serpent burrowing out, floating in the air andnding in the palm of Rhaegar''s bloody right hand.


    Zira...


    ck smoke rose from the palm, and the small snake opened arge, toothless mouth disproportionate to its size and quickly devoured the ck smoke.


    When the ck smoke was eaten, the wound in the palm recovered as before.


    "Blood Sorcery?"


    Laena was stunned, forgetting the pain for a moment. The scion of the most ancient bloodline, the descendant of the most powerful family in the kingdom, she had a clear perception of blood sorcery. After traveling the free trade city-states for many years, she had seen too many strange people.


    Rhaegar said, "Decide!"


    "Cut my belly open," Laena clenched her teeth and immediately made a decision.


    If she did nothing they were both dead, so it was better to put up a fight.


    "Very well."


    Rhaegar nodded and gestured at a few prostitutes, "Move her to the bed."


    The prostitutes, still shocked at the wonders of blood sorcery, reacted by rushing to move Laena onto the bed.


    "Ah... ha..."


    The movement involved severe pain. Laena clenched her teeth andy down on the bed to lift the blood-stained dress herself.


    When pregnant women give birth, there is no difference between men and women in this kind of situation.


    Rhaegar turned his head sideways, his gaze falling on the two men around the corner, and said weakly, "Come over here and handle the knife. Do you think I know how to cut open a woman''s womb?"


    "Yes." The old maester''s eyes shone brightly, and he flew to prepare the belly ning tools.


    Daemon froze and hesitantly stepped back.


    He was shocked. It seemed that the means to make the sword burn with fire at the tournament was just the tip of the iceberg.


    But none of that mattered, only that his wife would be able to give birth safely.


    A short period of preparation passed.


    Laenay on the bed with her legs wide open, several prostitutes holding her arms and legs.


    Rhaegar held the dragonss candle in one hand and stroked her belly with the other.


    Zip~


    The ss candle ignited, and the serpent that manifested in his right hand fluttered about restlessly.


    He had two dragonss candles, one that empowered the Enchantment Spell, and one for casting [Reflections of the Moon].


    The nchette would be cut sideways along with the uterus, and the excruciating pain and bleeding would be fatal.


    The Serpent''s Rune ability was not enough and needed to be augmented with an Enchantment Spell.


    When the old maester took out his knives and aimed them at the incision, Rhaegar said in a deep voice, "Do it!"


    "Ah!!!"


    At once, miserable screams resounded inside and outside the attic.


    ...


    Ten minutester.


    The bed was soaked with blood, and Laena''s screams had long since lost their strength. Her eyes were full of despair, her neck straining, and shey paralyzed on the bed.


    Rhaegar''s face was pale, constantly urging the serpent while his gaze remained fixed on the candle me of the zed candle. It was proving to be more bloody and cruel than he had imagined.


    At first he had hoped to save both Laena and the child, but now it seemed that even the saving of one of them would be a matter of luck.


    Zira!


    As his mind wavered, the candle me red violently, as if fueled by oil. Rhaegar''s eyes widened, and his consciousness shifted instantly.


    The blood on the dragonss candle was rapidly absorbed, triggering both [Reflections of the Moon] and [Dreamscape].


    ...


    "Ah ...... don''t ......"


    As soon as his consciousness cleared, a woman''s miserable scream resounded in his ears.


    The voice was very unfamiliar, yet inexplicably felt familiar.


    Rhaegar froze and opened his eyes.


    He was in a bedroom, the mural on the wall looking very familiar.


    Looking around, Rhaegar froze on the spot.


    On a birthing bed, a silver blonde woman wailed piteously, her round belly sliced open with a bloody gash.


    A group of familiar maids surrounded the bed, pressing down hard on the woman''s arms and legs.


    On one side of the bed, the younger version of his father waited anxiously, his head bowed and his face tense.


    At the end of the bed, the Grand Maester Mellos, his face grim, had his hand deep inside the woman''s stomach, trying to pull out the baby.


    "Viserys... no..."


    The woman cried out in pain, shaking her head violently.


    Viserys, at a loss for words, closed his eyes and prayed to the Seven Gods.


    Rhaegar witnessed the scene and stared intently at the woman''s face.


    Long silvery blonde hair, delicate features, and sweat dripping from shock.


    The eyes were almost identical to Rhaenyra''s, and somewhat like Rhaegar''s.


    With just a nce, Rhaegar recognized the woman''s identity and murmured, "Aemma... Mother."

 Chapter 389: One Day Heir?

    Chapter 389: One Day Heir?


    "Ah... Rhaegar... Come out..."


    Suddenly, Laena''s screams resumed, calling out the name she had prepared for the fetus in her womb.


    Rhaegar heard the cry, though it seemed that no one else in the mirrored image did.


    No, someone did hear it.


    "Rhaegar~~"


    Aemma, on the delivery bed, stopped screaming. Her pupils rapidly contracted, and she repeated the name.


    Rhaegar''s heart trembled, unable to distinguish reality from fantasy.


    The next second, the mirror image shattered like ss, falling apart in the blink of an eye.


    Thest sound was a baby''s cry.


    Rhaegar didn''t want the mirror image to shatter, staring nkly at Aemma. This was his mother, the one he had never seen.


    There was no portrait of her in the Red Keep, no trace of her in the Eyrie.


    In the mirror image, every nce was a gift.


    "Rhaegar?"


    "Aemma, are you saying the child''s name is Rhaegar?"


    The familiar voice was tinged with sadness, and the mirror image disappeared with it.


    ...


    Outside.


    "Waaaa~~"


    A baby''s cry rang out, waking Rhaegar from his intense focus on the candle me.


    "It''s out, the baby is out."


    The old maester''s face was agitated as he held a blood-covered, red wrinkled baby in both hands. The baby''s limbs drooped, and only its head and body were supported by the maester''srge hands. After a single cry, the crying stopped abruptly.


    The old maester, still unaware, took the scissors and cut the umbilical cord.


    Rhaegar dazedly returned to his senses, pressing his palms against Laena''s cold belly, channeling what little fire magic he had left. Laena''s eyes were vacant, her breathing imperceptible, and her body drenched in sweat.


    The old maester handed the child to a nearby prostitute to hold, then took out a needle and thread and asked shakily, "Prince, are you sure you want to sew up the wound?"


    The belly and uterus had been cut open with little possibility of suturing.


    Rhaegar looked at the prostitute, whose face had gone pale, and nodded. "Yes, the Serpent Rune will speed the healing of the wound."


    At a time like this, hygiene and potential infection were secondary concerns. Stopping the bleeding was the priority.


    The old maester sniffed and moved his hands, sewing with difficulty. There was a lot of blood, and high-temperature washed cotton cloths were used to wipe it away while the cotton thread stitched the wound.


    "Hiss..."


    The serpenty on Laena''s belly, twisting randomly. Its body swallowed the ck smoke and became bloated, continuing to absorb the newly born ck smoke.


    A few minutes passed.


    The cut was stitched up, and the wound began to heal quickly. The twine was cut, the blood stains wiped away, and then the belly was stitched.


    The old maester, now more confident that this method worked, quickly sewed the wound shut. The serpent wriggled twice, swallowing thest wisp of ck smoke.


    "Hoo~~"


    Wound after wound healed, and Laena snapped awake, the pain in her body drastically reduced.


    "Did the child survive?"


    Laena looked around nkly, her lips bloodless.


    "Rest well, your body is severely anemic."


    Rhaegar admonished her, silently getting up and heading out. The cesarean section had brought him too much mental stimtion, and his mind was muddled. The vision of his mother in the mirror image seemed to produce some kind of special reaction.


    Perhaps his mother, who carried the Targaryen bloodline, was also a Dreamer and had collided with his dream.


    "Laena!"


    Daemon, who had been watching from the sidelines the entire time, hurried toward his wife, brushing past his nephew.


    ...


    Rhaegar exited the attic and found a gazebo to rest, trying to clear his mind and release the stress.


    "Roar..."


    Vhagar climbed to its feet, its broad wings supporting the ruins, and raised its head to let out a deep, mournful cry. The dragon felt the emotions of its rider��a deep sadness.


    Rhaegar nced at Vhagar but continued to close his eyes and let go. Either it was held in for too long, or due to prematurebor, the child didn''t survive.


    About a quarter of an hourter, Daemon walked out of the attic carrying a swaddled bundle.


    Rhaegar tilted his head back, his eyes still closed, and whispered, "I did my best." He wasn''t speaking to Daemon but to Laena.


    "Laena passed out," Daemon said, looking down at the swaddling cloth. "You saved the child''s mother."


    Rhaegar opened his eyes and said faintly, "Congrattions, you didn''t lose everything." Laena was in the same situation as his mother. The difference was that one husband made a choice, and the other left the choice to his wife. When Rhaegar helped Laena, he was also helping his unseen mother.


    "Rhaegar, I want to thank you," Daemon said, looking lost. "But this child is not as lucky as you."


    Both were named Rhaegar, and both cried only once at birth. However, his child would never open his eyes.


    "Huh," Rhaegar shook his head and smiled sadly. "Daemon, you''ve lived a life of capriciousness and arrogance; maybe this is your retribution."


    Daemon was silent, holding the swaddled cloth tightly.


    Rhaegar was unforgiving, tilting his head and asking, "Do you remember calling me the One Day Heir?"


    Daemon''s face turned cold.


    Unconcerned, Rhaegar pointed to the battle outside the mansion and said, "Look what you have done, destroying a Free City against orders."


    "I took it," Daemon''s voice chilled.


    Rhaegar scoffed in disdain, "It was your arrogance that got the better of you."


    "Your father promised me a city-state, and I took it myself," Daemon said somberly.


    "Why did you take matters into your own hands when you knew he promised you a city-state?" Rhaegar''s anger red. "I intended to persuade Father to give Lys to you, but you preferred Tyrosh."


    "My brother did not personally say he would give me a city-state; he just kept appeasing me," Daemon replied, voicing his long-suppressed resentment.


    "When has your brother ever treated you badly for something you wanted?" Rhaegar was indignant, his voice rising. Aside from the Iron Throne and Rhaenyra, there was nothing Daemon wanted that Viserys hadn''t given him: gold, honor, wealth.


    If Rhaegar had died at birth and Daemon had not said he was the "One Day Heir," the heir might not have been Rhaenyra.


    Daemon red at him and scoffed. This brat didn''t know what he was talking about. He had never wanted to inherit his brother''s throne; he wanted to serve as the Hand of the King.


    To that end, he had rotated through almost every position in the Small Council during the first few years of his brother''s reign. All were picked on in various ways and were eventually kicked out of the Small Council and reduced to the City Watch.


    Keep in mind that even the Commander of the City Watch was a subordinate position to the Master of Laws. He was constantly being demoted.


    Rhaegar looked straight at his uncle, not bothering to say more. He knew something about the past of his father''s brothers. Daemon was elusive and acted in an arrogant and perverse manner.


    For some reason, the former Hand of the King, Otto Hightower, had a grudge against him, and the two often quarreled. Over time, Daemon lost the political battle to Otto and was kicked out.


    Rhaegar rubbed his tense brow and said with a straight face, "You''ve defeated Tyrosh. I''ll report to Father and propose that Tyrosh be given to you as a fiefdom."


    "I''m the one who conquered the city-state. Don''t treat it like a reward," Daemon replied with displeasure.


    "Your armyes from the Iron Throne, and your dragons belong to the Targaryens," Rhaegar replied. "The fiefdom is settled. I''ll ask Father to formally enthrone you as a prince and incorporate Tyrosh into the Targaryen dynasty."


    Daemon froze for a moment, not expecting his good nephew to be so generous. He had thought there would be moreplications with Tyrosh''s incorporation.


    Rhaegar nced at the swaddling clothes and said bluntly, "Uncle, you are a prince and now have your own territory, but your heir is also a one day heir."


    Though what he said was hateful and rude, his meaning was clear. The words Daemon had once spoken now applied to his own child.


    "I will not attend the child''s funeral. Remember to guard the Targaryen territory," Rhaegar said, venting his frustration before heading out without looking back.


    Daemon was left standing, tightening the swaddling clothes in his arms, a sh of confusion in his eyes. He had gained the city-state but lost a male heir��the male heir he had always wanted.


    "Roar��"


    Cannibal roared loudly, lifting Rhaegar into the air and flying into the sky. Rhaegar''s face remained calm, and he silently thought, Daemon has been arrogant and reckless all his life, maybe he can learn something from this.


    "Roar!"


    Vhagar let out a low roar, gazing up at Cannibal with a mixture of recognition and concern. The Cannibal had a new, dangerous scent, recing its previous open and pungent odor of decay.


    The Cannibal soared on its massive wings, its body casting a shadow over the mansion. The two dragons met in mid-air, their sizes nowrgely ovepping.


    Rhaegar judged silently, "After eating the dragon, Cannibal''s size skyrocketed."


    Cannibal''s original size was less than one-fifth inferior to Vhagar, roughly a difference of about ten meters. But with the metamorphosis of Rhaegar''s bloodline and devouring Morghul, it had grown savagely during its slumber, reaching the size of Vhagar''s 170-year-old peak at just 90 years old.


    There might be a difference in talent involved. Cannibal, different from other dragons, had the unique habit of eating its own kind. Vhagar had fought all its life but was still at the bottom of the first generation of the three dragons in terms of talent. It was believed that Vermithor would also be able to reach this size after twenty or thirty years.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal roared lowly, its green vertical pupils revealing loneliness. At this moment, it was no longer afraid of the old dragon below. If it wanted to fight hard, it would ensure it wouldn''t give Vhagar the chance to die together.


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but be proud and said, "Let''s go, partner."


    It seemed that Cannibal''s achievements wouldn''t stop at being the King of Wild Dragons.


    ...


    Stornds, Rainwood


    During the time of the Children of the Forest, the continent of Westeros was covered in dense forests. But the arrival of the iron-armed Andals pushed the Children back and led to the decimation of much of these ancient forests.


    Today, the Kingswood of the Crownds and the Rainwood of the Stornds are among the continent''s few remaining woonds.


    From the coast of Stonehelm in Cape Wrath, a major road skirts the edge of the Rainwood and winds its way towards Storm��s End Castle. Along this route, several ancient noble castles stand as testaments to generations of lineage, including Crow''s Nest Castle of House Morrigen and Griffin''s Roost Castle of House Connington.


    For days, the Dornish forces had been invading, with ten thousand soldiers besieging Stonehelm Castle and a muchrger number scattered throughout the rainforest, poised to ambush reinforcements from the two city-states.


    In a lush virgin forest fifty miles from Crow''s Nest City, arge contingent of Dornish soldiers d in yellow-brown armor marched slowly. The ttering of wheels apanied their progress as they pushed several giant scorpion crossbows.


    "Hurry up! Storm��s End Castle''s reinforcements will pass through here. We need to ambush that Vryon Dragon rider in advance," a young general with ck hair and brown eyes ordered loudly.


    His armor bore the emblem of a golden quill on a green checkerboard, signifying House Jordayne of the Tor, one of the main forces in this invasion.


    Suddenly, the ground trembled, and the distant neighing of warhorses could be heard. Trebor Jordayne immediatelyy down on the ground, pressing his ear to the earth. After listening intently, he excitedly shouted, "Prepare for battle! There��s arge cavalry force approaching!"


    There was no doubt it was the Storm Riders from Storm��s End Castle, galloping to reinforce their allies. The five thousand Dornish soldiers quickly dispersed, spreading out in the forest, bows and arrows at the ready.


    Crossbowmen maneuvered the scorpion crossbows, loading theunching pads with steel spears and aiming them at the sky, prepared to attack the moment soldiers or dragons appeared.

 Chapter 390: Lys Council System

    Chapter 390: Lys Council System


    Soon, hundreds of elite cavalrymen thundered down the road, hooves pounding the earth as they raised the banner of the Stag. Trebor Jordayne''s eyes gleamed with murderous intent as he raised his arm, signaling his men to hold. He waited for the dragon to appear.


    This invasion of the Stornds had mobilized over 20,000 soldiers. Their strategy was divided into two main objectives: attacking Stonehelm to capture the strategic base and harassing Crow''s Nest and Griffin''s Roost to intercept reinforcements from Storm��s End.


    Trebor had dispatched teams to ransack mills and viges in the territories of the two castles and had encountered an attack by the dragon riders of House Vryon, resulting in the loss of hundreds of soldiers.


    "Roar......"


    A roar echoed from the sky as the shadow of a light silver dragon, Seasmoke, shed overhead.


    "Ready!" Burt''s eyes widened, fixated on the dragon above.


    Seasmoke wasn''t flying very high, its vertical pupils scanning the surroundings. The dense forest below provided perfect cover for the Dornish soldiers.


    Click...


    The crossbowman''s heart raced as he maneuvered his scorpion crossbow to aim at the dragon, his fingers slick with sweat. Dragons were symbols of power and conquest, and during the time of the Conquerors, Dorne had famously shot down a giant dragon to repel the Targaryen invasion.


    "Roar......"


    Seasmoke abruptly changed course, veering off into the distance.


    Trebor ''s face darkened with impatience. "On mymand, shoot!"


    Shooting the dragon would secure his ce in history. With hismand, two thousand crossbowmen released their bowstrings, sending a rain of arrows skyward. The scorpion crossbows fired simultaneously, targeting the light silver dragon.


    The Storm Knights'' march slowed as arrows ttered against their armor. A few unfortunate soldiers had their warhorses shot out from under them, their cries silenced as they were trampled by the advancing cavalry.


    "Ambush! Raise your shields!" the knight captain bellowed, lifting his half-man-high oak shield to fend off the arrows.


    The Storm Knights, elite among the elite, quickly adjusted their formation, forming an imprable shield wall.


    "Roar......"


    In midair, Seasmoke shrieked and deftly dodged the elite steel spears. Though its young dragon scales couldn''t withstand the scorpion crossbows, its smaller size and agility allowed it to evade the shots.


    Laenor Vryon, mounted on Seasmoke, twisted his head in surprise, scanning the forest where the crossbow shots had originated. The surrounding area was open for miles, with a spacious main road clear of obstructions. Only on the east side did the jungle grow thick, its lush shrubbery providing cover.


    In the forest, Trebor Jordayne stomped the ground in frustration, grabbed a scorpion crossbow, and shouted indignantly, "Crossbowmen, cover! Infantry, surround the Storm Knights!"


    "Yes, Ser!"


    The crossbowmen took cover behind trees, providing remote suppression, while three thousand spear-wielding infantry charged forward. Burt aimed the scorpion crossbow with determination, muttering, "Watch me shoot you out of the sky!"


    Ka-da!


    The steel spear shot out like amanding arrow, and the Dornish soldiers swarmed from the forest, synchronizing with the rain of arrows.


    Seasmoke roared angrily, hovering higher to dodge the steel spears. The battle seemed to be at a stalemate, with neither side gaining a clear advantage.


    "Roar!"


    A sharp roar echoed through the dense forest, startling the birds into flight.


    An ugly dragon with a mottled, brown appearance and ragged wings swooped down.


    "Dracarys!" shouted the young rider, a broad smile spreading across his face.


    In an instant, Dragonfire fell from the sky like a torrent of molten mud, tearing through the forest canopy.


    Trebor looked up in panic at the sound, only to see a torrent of brown mes descending upon him.


    Boom...


    The Dragonfire hit like a stone, instantly crushing the man''s head, and then the mes, reeking of earth, enveloped his body.


    The crossbowman next to him was also consumed by the inferno.


    "Haha!" Aemond cheered, crouching on the dragon''s back and shouting, "More fire!"


    "Roar..." Sheepstealer''s vertical pupils gleamed with pride as it swooped lower, spewing wide arcs of Dragonfire.


    "Aemond, watch out for the scorpion crossbows!" Laenor called out from afar, directing Seasmoke to attack the Dornish infantry emerging from the forest.


    "Don''t worry, Sheepstealer will protect me!" Aemond shouted back, exhrated.


    Sheepstealer roared, its thick scales deflecting the steel-tipped arrows. It glided low, targeting the threatening scorpion crossbows with precision bursts of Dragonfire.


    After two swift passes, all five scorpion crossbowsy in ruins.


    "Run, we can''t hold against two dragons!"


    "Head for the Rainwood!"


    Without their general, the Dornish soldiers scattered like sand in the wind.


    It wasn''t their fault; they were simply outmatched.


    As the vanguard emerged from the forest, Seasmoke''s Dragonfire cut through their ranks, leaving them in disarray.


    The Storm Knights charged, cutting down the panicked soldiers with ease.


    "Roar..." Sheepstealer reveled in the chaos, igniting the forest with abandon, the smoke billowing for miles.


    The Dornish soldiers hiding in the forest were routed, fleeing in terror.


    The scene was one of utter devastation, with an ugly, fearsome dragon setting the forest aze.


    ...


    The battle raged for a long time, and the sky began to darken.


    "Clean up the battlefield, don''t leave any survivors!"


    The forest was aze, and the hillside and main road were strewn with charred remains. The banner of the Sunspear, symbolizing House Martell,y in the mud and dirt, burnt and tattered.


    Royce Caron led hundreds of Storm Knights, patrolling on horseback and driving theirnces into the chests of the corpses one by one.


    "Roar..."


    Sheepstealer flew over the smoke-filled forest and arrogantlynded in front of the cavalry line. On the dragon''s back, Aemond was filled with excitement, his forehead glistening with sweat.


    Seasmoke circled twice before carrying Laenor to a smooth descent. Laenor removed his helmet and, with a note of exhration, said, "We''ve repelled the ambush. It''s time to mobilize arge army and march to the besieged Stonehelm."


    The Dornish harassment of Crow''s Nest and Griffin''s Roost Castle had already reached Storm��s End. With no fortress between the two castles, the Dornish were sure to ambush the paths through the adjoining forest.


    Lord Caron himself had nned and executed this counter-attack to annihte the Dornish.


    Lord Caron, riding his horse, murmured, "These soldiers are only half of the force blocking the attack. Let''s first clear the main road between Crow''s Nest Castle and Stonehelm."


    It took time to mobilize troops. Storm��s End Castle had temporarily conscripted thousands of soldiers and armed them. A premature attack would likely result in heavy losses.


    Aemond nodded in agreement and reported, "Sheepstealer burned many, but more escaped into the forest."


    These fleeing, disorganized troops would likely regroup into small guerri bands. When fighting the Dornish, one should never underestimate such stragglers; otherwise, they would suffer great losses.


    Lord Caron hesitated for a moment before making his judgment. "Then let''s head to Crow''s Nest to station ourselves and wait for the follow-up troops to arrive."


    Stonehelm was a fortified city and could likely withstand the attack.


    Laenor nodded, agreeing with the n. "Good idea. I''ll ride Seasmoke daily to help patrol."


    Aemond agreed heartily, but when Stonehelm was mentioned, a sh of obscurity crossed his eyes.


    ...


    Late at night in Lys.


    In the courtyard of the Magister''s mansion, a pitch-ck dragony sprawled, its towering spine reaching the height of an attic. Under the moonlight, its green vertical pupils quietly opened as a scarlet dragon flew in from the night sky,nding swiftly on the other side of the courtyard.


    The attic of the Magister''s residence was brightly lit, and a dense crowd of people could be seen. Several bonfires illuminated the open-air tform. Rhaegar covered his forehead with his hand and leaned back in a golden chair. In front of him, Sea Snake and Tesrio of Vntis stood on either side.


    Bang...


    The rooftop door was pushed open, followed by Rhaenys'' voice:


    "Rhaegar, I received the news and rushed here overnight."


    Rhaenys looked grave as she hurriedly walked over.


    "Aunt, you''re here." Rhaegar put down his hand and managed a stiff smile.


    Daemon had captured Tyrosh, marking the end of the Narrow Sea War. Though the three city-states had not yet been fully taken, actual control was already in the hands of the Targaryens. The three city-states that roamed the disputednds have been utterly destroyed!


    Rhaenys swept her eyes over the people present and said with relief, "I went to Tyrosh first to check on Laena''s condition. It''s good to see she''s all right, bless the Sevens."


    As soon as Rhaegar returned to Lys, he brought news of Daemon''s capture of Tyrosh to King''s Landing and Myr. The Triarchy was shattered, and the task of rebuilding and reestablishing order was a daunting one.


    Sea Snake Corlys''s face tightened as he asked, "Daemon attacked the city privately. What is the situation in Tyrosh?"


    He and Daemon were allies,mitted to plundering the Triarchy. Now, with Daemon disobeying the king''s order and attacking the city behind his back, Corlys felt offended and threatened.


    Rhaenys looked at her nephew and said solemnly, "Tyrosh is still in the midst of the war. Daemon is leading an army to suppress it, so it will take a few more days."


    "Selfish bastard." Sea Snake cursed under his breath. Everyone knew that Daemon would never stop once he entered the city-state.


    Rhaegar waved his hand and interrupted, "Gentlemen, with the fall of Tyrosh, the Triarchy and the Disputed Lands are all in our control. We should first discuss maintaining the shippingnes and resuming trade."


    At the beginning of the Narrow Sea War, the main factor was the captured Morghul. Now that Morghul was dead, the only goal left was to destroy the Triarchy. With the Triarchy broken and the three city-states in hand, there was an urgent need for talents to manage them.


    He always kept one thing in mind: The Iron Throne had conquered the Triarchy, and the Targaryen bloodline had set foot on the continent of Essos.


    "Prince, I think it would be more valuable to negotiate the rewards first."


    Tesrio''s voice was gruff, and his eyes were shrewd.


    The Sea Snake''s eyes were deep as he proposed, "Daemon has overrun Tyrosh. This matter should be reported to His Grace, and he should be brought into the Small Council to discuss it together."


    Rhaegar didn''t even bother to raise his eyelids and said indifferently, "Daemon''s issue will be discussed afterward. Tonight, we''ll only talk about these two points."


    He understood the intentions of the two men��they wanted to divide the benefits. The chaos in Myr had not yet subsided, Lys was in a state of disarray, and the war in Tyrosh was raging. Before the Targaryens grasped the initiative of the three city-states, these vultures wanted a piece of the pie?


    Rhaegar had only one response, "Impossible!"


    "Prince..."


    The Sea Snake was clearly reluctant, desperately wanting a share of the benefits.


    "Roar..."


    A shrill roar pierced the night sky, apanied by a sh of gray fire.


    The crowd looked up.


    Tyraxes hovered in mid-air beforending shakily on Rhaegar''s shoulder, his vertical pupils zing as he chirped at the gathered people.


    The Sea Snake froze, inexplicably taking a step back.


    Tesrio''s face tightened, his left hand gripping the scimitar behind his back.


    Rhaegar stroked Tyraxes''s head and smiled. "Don''t be nervous. The little guy is just a bit unruly."


    He nced over at the two men, leaving it unclear whether he was referring to the young dragon or to them.


    "Ga..."


    Tyraxes obediently crouched down, hisrge muzzle making afortable cooing sound, as if to express its obedience.


    Rhaenys looked on naturally andplimented, "This is the young dragon hatched from Morghul''s dragon egg. It truly is a unique breed."


    "It will further the family''s dragons bloodline."


    Rhaegar spread a smile, greeted Johanna, and said with a straight face, "The three city-states are in more than just chaos, so I have decided to use Lys as a model and implement the Lys CouncilSystem."


    Johanna walked over gracefully and handed several sample drawings to the group.


    Rhaegar continued, "The Triarchy used to have an electoral system, which is at odds with the system in Westeros. I n to create the position of Prince, with two or more councilors under him, adopting a council with one leader and many subordinates."


    Rhaenys looked carefully at the drawings and wondered, "Is this a imitation of the Iron Throne with the Council under a Prince?"


    "Not exactly. The councilors have more power than the royal advisors."


    Rhaegar replied casually, ncing over at the Sea Snake and Tesrio.


    The Sea Snake didn''t notice and examined the program carefully, gradually frowning.


    As a veteran politician, he could see at once that the "Council" was unusual.


    One leader refers to the Prince, or the Targaryen lineage.


    Multiple councilors mean that power is shared, which governs the authority of the Prince.


    Parliamentary systems have existed since ancient times, most notably in the Freehold Empire of Ancient Valyria.


    Led by the forty Dragonlord families, all the freeholders in the empire voted to form arge parliamentary group.


    The multiple governors'' councils of Myr were also based on the council system.


    Such councils have always decentralized power.


    The Council System, however, ces a Prince of greater power above its members.


    Ensuring the continuation of the rule of the Targaryen bloodline.


    The Sea Snake read from the beginning to the end and raised his head to ask, "Prince, do you intend to implement this system in Myr and Tyrosh as well?"


    As he said this, he unconsciously nced at his wife, a glint of calction in his eyes.


    "No!" Rhaegar denied outright. "It will only exist in Lys."


    Of the three free trade city-states, Tyrosh essentially belonged to Daemon, and he wouldn''t just intervene.


    Myr was a valuablend city-state that he intended to make into aplete and utter colony, fully incorporated into the royal jurisdiction.


    Lys was a multi-elemental city-state with a bright future for development.


    It was only because of the prying eyes of the Vryon House, Pentos, and Vntis''s tripartite allies that he thought of the Lys Council System.


    With the legacy of the Targaryen bloodline, the rights of the councilors of the three parties would be divided to share the profits and bear the burdens of the city-state.


    Though the prince was in danger of being overthrown, this only underscored the importance of having the Iron Throne at his back, in case the offspring inherited the city-state and turned their faces toward attacking the Iron Throne.

 Chapter 391: Return to King’s Landing

    Chapter 391: Return to King��s Landing


    August, under a scorching sun.


    King''s Landing, River Gate.


    In the sweltering heat of the afternoon, fishermen gathered their sails and huddled with their small catches at the foot of the city walls, feeling unspeakably satisfied.


    Thanks to the king''s benevolence, many of the city''s rogues had been arrested and sent outside the city to cultivate the wastnd. As a result, the River Gate no longer reeked of urine from vagrants, reced only by the fishy odor of fish and shrimp.


    An old fisherman with a waxy face and bare feety on the dry, cracked mud, speaking in a thick ent, "Have you heard? The Heir Prince is returning to King''s Landing after subduing the Triarchy?"


    "Nonsense, such big news has spread all over the Flea Bottom. You don''t need to repeat it!"


    "Old Henry, you''re just repeating what everyone already knows."


    His statement was like a stone thrown into a calmke, provoking teasing and ridicule from the fishermen around him.


    Old Henry held up two sea fish and said eagerly, "What do you know? The prince is back, and the Triarchy Kingdom is now our territory."


    "Che, this is the noble lord''s territory. It doesn''t have a single copper to do with you, a poor old man."


    A cynical youth immediately scoffed.


    "But the prince is quite good to us poor old people..."


    Old Henry retorted angrily.


    King''s Landing had fewer hooligans lying about, the streets were cleaner, and the gangs that collected bail money had been cleaned out. The fishermen living under the city walls no longer smelled the stench of human waste, nor did they fear being captured in the city.


    Another fisherman, crossing his legs, said with newfound curiosity, "But I heard the prince is reallying back soon. They might even recruit a group of soldiers."


    "You want to go to war?"


    "A bit. After the battle is won, there will definitely be a shortage of men."


    "That''s right, maybe I can even be a squad leader."


    The fishermenughed and joked, discussing their own little schemes.


    Wooooo~


    The sun grew hotter, and an exhrating horn sounded far and wide. On the surface of ckwater Bay, reflecting light, a dozen magnificent three-masted sailing ships crossed the harbor. At the head was arge g, painted and engraved with a majestic three-headed red dragon.


    "Roar--"


    A dragon roar resounded like a loud bell. The pitch-ck dragon spread its wings and soared, its huge body like ten thousand miles of dark clouds covering the zing sun.


    "The Prince is back!"


    The fishermen rolled and crawled to their feet, tilting their heads back under the shadows. The ck dragon was cold and lonely, flying leisurely into King''s Landing, shielding the summer sun from the scorching light.


    "Roar!"


    Another dragon roar, as loud as muffled thunder, followed closely behind, carrying a strong sense of oppression. A huge green dragon cut through the sky, its massive wings creating gusty winds as imposing as a giant mountain.


    The old residents of King''s Landing recognized it as the previous dragon of Prince "Baelon" The Spring Prince - Vhagar.


    With the help of the gusty wind created by the dragon, the ships traveled faster and smoothly entered the dock of the River Gate.


    Arge g fluttered in the wind, symbolizing each ancient power that had fought on the battlefield. Seahorses, high towers, purple grapes... and even foreign gs like that of Pentos ans Vntis.


    ...


    The Red Keep, the Godswood.


    The two giant dragons circled the vast garden twice, each choosing a clear space tond slowly.


    Boom!


    As soon as their massive bodies touched down, a fierce wind whipped through the garden, sending des of grass and petals fluttering.


    "Roar..."


    Rhaegar stepped off the softdder and leapt onto thewn. The silver and ck young dragon on his shoulder chirped excitedly, pping its wings and flying around.


    Rhaegar smoothed back his blown-out silver hair and nced at Tyraxes, the corner of his mouth curling into a smile. The little one had been cowering in his arms all the way, finally free of the Cannibal''s intimidating presence.


    "Brother!"


    A clear cry rang out from the direction of the castle.


    Hena was all smiles as she trotted up to him. The little girl wore a long white dress, the hem of which she lifted awkwardly as she ran.


    "Hena."


    Rhaegar smiled, his gaze shifting to the figure behind her.


    Rhaenyra, in a white halter dress, cradled her bulging belly in her hands and smiled warmly.


    After dealing with the cheerful little girl, Rhaegar walked over to Rhaenyra and gently hugged her.


    Rhaenyra responded carefully, her head resting against his chest as she whispered, "Go and get dressed, Father is waiting."


    "Fine, but let me hear the sound first."


    Rhaegar half-squatted, wrapped his arms around her soft waist, and pressed his ear to herrge belly. As soon as his cheek was close, he felt a slight nudge.


    Four months and there was already movement.


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened in delight and he pressed in a little closer.


    Suddenly, another faint push touched his chin.


    Rhaegar raised his head, eyes full ofughter, "It seems like someone gave me a punch. It''s reallywless."


    Rhaenyra''s heart swelled with affection, and the corners of her mouth lifted into a smile, "I''m afraid this kind of arrogance is hereditary."


    As she spoke, her small greenish-white hand rubbed her brother''s head, her eyes brimming with tenderness.


    Rhaegar closed his eyes in enjoyment, slyly saying, "I''m the most easygoing one; you''re ndering me."


    "You wish, get out of here."


    With those words, Rhaenyra tugged at his ear, her own footsteps light and yful.


    It had been more than a month since they had seen each other, and they had missed each other dearly.


    The two siblings shared a few moments of warm, fond affection.


    ...


    Later that evening, a grand banquet was held in the Red Keep.


    The return of the hero who had conquered the disputednds was warmly weed by a gathering of princes and advisors.


    Inside the great hall, sunlight filtered through the stained ss windows, filling the room with the aroma of wine. The sounds of celebration could be heard faintly from below.


    A dozen figures sat around therge conference table: King Viserys, several royal advisors, and Rhaegar, seated to the right of his father, the green-patterned stone ball on a ck background ced in the alcove.


    Rhaenyra sat next to Rhaegar, her smile reflecting her sense of honor. Laena and Hena, their faces calm, stood quietly behind them.


    Opposite them sat the Sea Snake Corlys, his face haughty, alongside two ambassadors from Pentos and Vntis.


    With the destruction of the Triarchy, the disputednds were initially pacified, and the Iron Throne''s allies eagerly awaited their share of the spoils of war.


    "Viserys, drink less wine," Alicent said helplessly, pressing her husband''s hand as he poured another ss.


    The queen, dressed in a dignified and unobtrusive green gown, attended the council under the pretense of attending to the king.


    "Ahem, I''m happy today. It''s okay to drink a little more," Viserys replied, slightly embarrassed as he coughed lightly to hide it.


    "Promise me, just onest drink," Alicent persuaded gently, pouring the wine for him personally.


    She finished with a small reminder, "You have not been welltely, and Orwyle warned you."


    Viserys forced a smile, his interest in drinking fading.


    Rhaegar heard it all and gave his father two subtle nces. On the outside, Viserys looked no different - wearing the crown that symbolized his power, the solemn ck robes, and maintaining the same majesty and benevolence as always.


    But upon closer inspection, there were differences. His lips were bloodless, dark circles were heavy under his eyes, and his gaze was drooping with fatigue.


    Rhaegar''s nostrils twitched slightly, catching a faint stench of hair oil and tonics.


    "The war seems to have taken its toll on Father," Rhaegar thought darkly.


    Viserys was in bad shape, like an overindulged addict.


    Rhaegar also wondered how the cuts on his father''s body were healing and decided to take the time to help treat them once more.

 Chapter 392: Otto Targets Daemon

    Chapter 392: Otto Targets Daemon


    The brief interruption passed quickly, and the meeting was officially called to order.


    Corlys, full of ambition, began, "Your Grace, with the copse of the Triarchy and the end of the war between the Kingdom and the Disputed Lands, it is time to discuss strategies such as reopening ports and trade."


    The conversation had to be calm and focused.


    He didn''t mention the distribution of benefits directly, but politely used maritime trade as an introduction, acknowledging the primary advantage of a free-trading city-state.


    Viserys looked carefully at his eldest son and smiled, "Lord Corlys and I are of the same mind. It is essential that the three city-states resume trade."


    Hand of the King Lyonel replied sternly, "The three city-states have not beenpletely stabilized. There is still arge portion of the poption opposed to the Iron Throne. Opening the ports at this time is somewhat dangerous."


    "If we don''t open the ports, who will take care of the food and drink of the three city-states?" countered Master of Laws Jaspy, his words sharp. "Our port exports countless goods every day. Sooner orter it will drain the treasury."


    Otto looked at him and nodded in agreement.


    Several advisors joined the discussion, and a debate ensued about reopening trade.


    Lyonel was reluctant to reopen trade, citing the uncertainty of Braavos'' movements and the unfolding Dornish invasion as detrimental to trade at this time.


    Jaspy disagreed, citing the cost to the treasury.


    Otto was secretly supportive, while Lyman, Orwyle, and Tormund remained silent.


    The war was fought not only with strong soldiers and horses, but also with logistical supplies.


    The Battle of the Narrow Sea began inte June and ended in early August,sting just over a month.


    However, in that month, the treasury''s depleted financial resources became an astronomical figure.


    On the eve of the Battle of Myr, arge number of fleets and soldiers suicidally lured the enemy, resulting in losses on both sides of Lys and Tyrosh.


    One of the primary contributors to these losses was the Vryon House, where Corlys was situated. The soldiers on the ships, with armor and weapons, were stillrgely a responsibility of the Iron Throne.


    In the ensuing Battle of Lys Harbor, ports across the realm formed fleets and stormed the city-states with ordnance provided by the treasury.


    Combined with the garrisoning of the Stepstones Inds, it was anotherrge sum of money.


    And that''s not counting the cost of rebuilding the city-states of Myr and Lys, repairing the ports, and dealing with ships and merchants.


    All sorts of troublesome internal issues arose.


    The discussion became more and more heated. Lyonel was alone and disliked by the others, sweating profusely.


    Rhaegar watched with interest, asionally ncing at Corlys, whose face remained stoic.


    Rhaenyra had a dumbfounded expression, rubbing her stomach with one hand and holding Rhaegar��s hand with the other.


    Viserys exuded a look of distress, frowning involuntarily at the noise.


    He preferred when his advisers voted unanimously on issues. Arguments made it difficult for him to make a decision.


    Most of the time, he would deal with it based on preference.


    Knock, knock...


    The sound echoed as Corlys, his face dark with frustration, rapped the table. "My lords, you might as well listen to the opinions of His Grace and the Prince."


    "The financial resources of the treasury are quite depleted. It''s better to reduce expenses," Viserys said immediately, inadvertently undermining his old ally Lyonel.


    Lyonel''s face fell and he sank back into his seat, visibly disappointed but hiding his anger.


    Rhaegar nodded in agreement. "The port still needs to be reopened and made self-sufficient."


    It was hard to fight for newnd. If it couldn''t generate ie, wouldn''t it be in vain?


    When the discussion came back on track, Corlys'' demeanor improved. "Then we should discuss some specifics and n ahead."


    The advisors, including the ambassadors of Pentos and Vntis, all agreed.


    "Wait!" Otto suddenly interrupted, bringing up a controversial topic. "Your Grace, as far as I know, Prince Daemon has upied Tyrosh and made it known that it is already his private territory."


    "Don''t mention that scoundrel to me!" Viserys'' face darkened and he spoke through clenched teeth.


    He was well aware of his brother''s actions - invading and fighting privately, massacring the rebellious inhabitants of Tyrosh, and bypassing the Iron Throne to privatize the city-state. One disgraceful act after another, without the honor or responsibility of a knight.


    Rhaegar interjected, "Father, I have spoken to Daemon, and he will guard Tyrosh for the time being."


    "For now" was a carefully chosen word, paving the way forter negotiations.


    "He''s a disgrace, with no sense of shame!" Viserys was indignant.


    "Your Grace, Daemon is deeply mistaken, and he will follow your will," Laena added, breaking her silence. "He oppresses the rebels, so I will discuss everything on his behalf."


    Viserys looked at her. After a difficultbor and the loss of her son, Laena looked extremely pale. Her deep skin was dull, her lips bloodless, and her eyes showed deep fatigue. With one hand resting on her waist and wearing only a white dress, she seemed a sickly beauty.


    Viserys'' eyes softened with pity. "Ask Daemon himself to speak to me if there is anything."


    Then he motioned to Erryk, who was standing behind him, and said, "Ser, move a chair for Lady Laena."


    "Yes, Your Grace," Erryk replied, meticulously following the order.


    Laena was attending the Small Council as a spectator this time and did not have a seat.


    Viserys, understanding her predicament, showed leniency.


    "Take it easy," Rhaenyra said, looking back at her friend and gently assisting her.


    Laena pursed her lips, grateful for the support, and allowed herself to rest.


    The difficultbor had affected Laena both physically and mentally. Her uterus had been cut open, and the Maester had diagnosed a permanent injury that would make it difficult for her to conceive again.


    Mentally, Laena was determined. She was determined to help her husband secure the territory he desired and to find her own salvation alongside Vhagar. Her path in life was clear: to achieve sess on her own terms, rather than relying solely on her husband and family amidst internal struggles.


    Otto continued to press the issue, "Your Grace, Daemon''s private upation of Tyrosh cannot go unaddressed by the Iron Throne."


    Lyman frowned slightly and replied nonchntly, "Prince Daemon''s actions were indeed improper, but a stern warning should suffice."


    As far as the Small Council was concerned, the three city-states were now Westerosinds and should rightfully be incorporated into the Targaryen realm. Daemon''s unauthorized seizure of any of the city-states was considered an act of treason.


    Viserys stared intently and said in a deep voice, "I promised him a city-state before the war. Daemon imed it."


    "But that promise was not formalized by Your Grace. Daemon took it upon himself to upy Tyrosh," Otto countered, his eyes burning with conviction.


    No one disagreed. Even if the King had promised to grant his younger brother a city-state, it should have been done with a charter and an official decree. Daemon''s actions were indeed in defiance of the Iron Throne.


    Viserys held his forehead in frustration. "I will call him back to King''s Landing to discuss this further. For now, let''s focus on reopening trade and the port."


    Rhaegar turned the stone ball in the alcove in silence, not rushing to voice his thoughts. He had privately agreed with his father not to escte this matter just yet. With threats from Braavos and Dorne, now was not the time to stir up internal conflict.


    The advisors, hearing the king''s decision, retreated and refrained from pushing further.


    Alicent''s voice, faint but cutting, broke the silence. "How long can you continue to favor him?"

 Chapter 393: New System and Distribution of Benefits

    Chapter 393: New System and Distribution of Benefits


    The voice wasn''t loud, but it reached everyone''s ears.


    Viserys'' face turned grim, but he could not retort.


    With a heavy "humph," he changed the topic, "Lord Corlys, tell us about reopening trade. You are an expert in this area."


    "No problem," Corlys agreed promptly and began speaking eloquently.


    Rhaegar ignored this, his gaze implicitly sweeping over Alicent.


    Alicent''s face was subdued, once again remaining silent, a touch of dissatisfaction hidden in her eyes.


    Otto''s eyes were lowered, and out of the corner of his eye, he nced at Hena, who kept her mouth shut.


    Rhaegar followed his gaze andnded on Hena''s lovely freckled face.


    Hena hadn''t inherited Alicent''s stunning beauty but instead took after her father''s more modest looks. However, the young girl had a slender figure, and when she was quiet, she looked like an orchid, possessing an inexplicable intellectual beauty.


    Noticing someone was watching, Hena quietly looked up and smiled cheekily at him.


    "Naughty," Rhaegar couldn''t help but smile as he focused back on the council table.


    There was a great deal of Targaryen territory at stake, and he had offered to call a few of his younger siblings to join him.


    Aegon was guarding the Stepstones Isles, Aemond wandered the Stornds, and little Daeron was too young.


    In the end, the only ones apanying him were Rhaenyra and Hena.


    "Your Grace, the program is roughly like this. I wonder how much you intend to set the harbor tax?" Corlys narrated with a flourish and then began to reveal his true thoughts.


    Viserys had not yet realized it and patiently said, "Customs matters are supposed to be the responsibility of the Master of Ships, and since you and Lord Tnd have sessively withdrawn from the Small Council, this duty was taken up by the Hand of the King and the Master of Coin as well."


    Duties of the Master of Ships included taxation of the Great Ports and control of the Gullet. This office hadrgely been held by members of House Vryon since the Conqueror''s generation of the Small Council.


    In a sense, the office was passed down as the hereditary authority of House Vryon. The Iron Throne lost its hold on the Gullet when Corlys withdrew from the Small Council. Even Tnd''s reign could not regain that power.


    His only role was to collect tolls, using his experience in running Lannister Port.


    This is why Viserys feared a rebellion from House Vryon in the first ce. Driftmark Ind was extremely close to King''s Landing, and with dragons and warships, ckwater Bay could be breached in a single day.


    Corlys hesitated and said politely, "Your Grace, the customs tax is a matter of great importance. It would be better for you to make the promotion sooner rather thanter."


    "Lord Corlys, I believe you are the best candidate for the post," Rhaegar smiled, expressing what was in his father''s heart.


    Corlys furrowed his brow and did not answer immediately.


    Viserys followed up, "Lord Corlys, your handling n for the harbor is iparably thorough, and it is rightfully yours to serve."


    Father and son exchanged a knowing nce, seeing the agreement in each other''s eyes.


    Rhaegar''s smile widened as he increased his leverage, "Lys''s Council system will be implemented, and both your daughter and son are candidates for councilors. This will prevent Lord Corlys from having to manage duties both here and there."


    Corlys pondered for a moment, looked at his daughter sitting across from him, and agreed, "Since Vryon is trusted by His Grace, I will not disappoint the King."


    "Haha, wee back to the Small Council," Viserysughed, raising his ss in a gesture to share a drink.


    Corlys nodded gently and raised his ss to drink.


    Through the King and Heir Prince''s words, he had already discerned the key message.


    The Vryon House would share the benefits, and the councillors of the Lys Council System would be part of this arrangement. But the councillor couldn''t be Corlys himself. He was politically overqualified, and any royal family member serving as a Prince risked being overshadowed by him.


    Instead, he was granted the position of Master of Ships, reserving the Councillor of Lys for one of his children. With positions in King''s Landing and Lys, the Vryon House''s power had undoubtedly increased.


    Rhaegar raised his ss as well, smiling without saying a word.


    A wise man knows how to weigh the pros and cons.


    After the Battle of the Narrow Sea, the prestige of the Targaryens had soared and no force could shake it. House Vryon had been wounded, so it was only right to return to the embrace of the royal family.


    Such is the power that influence brings.


    Lyonel was surprised, "Prince, what is the Lys Council System? What are the rights of an advisor?"


    Otto crossed his arms, his eyes were deep.


    In just a few words, the advisors heard the prince''s special arrangement and realized that he was not prepared to follow the Westerosi or local system in the three city-states.


    Rhaegar was prepared and exined without dy.


    The advisors, with their extraordinary wisdom, quickly understood the deeper meaning.


    "Prince, who will hold the position of Prince?" Lyonel frowned slightly and asked the question on everyone''s mind.


    Otto saw his chance and said, "The position of prince will of course be held by the royal heirs of the royal family."


    Immediately, the faces of the present advisors changed, their minds changed.


    Alicent''s breath caught, and as she rose to pour wine for her husband, she watched his demeanor. Being crowned prince was a treatment not even Daemon had received. With the two city-states of Myr and Lys, her child stood a good chance.


    Rhaegar, noticing the room, took Rhaenyra''s hand and said brightly, "A Prince can also be a Queen, and I''m going to support Rhaenyra in running Lys."


    He dered that he would make Rhaenyra a Queen.


    Having taken down the Triarchy, this promise deserved to be realized.


    "Rhaegar."


    Even though she was mentally prepared, Rhaenyra was still filled with emotion.


    "Good! A very good proposal."


    Viserys smiled broadly and pped his hands in loud approval.


    His eyes noticed his eldest daughter''s stomach, and his smile became a little more genuine. The eldest son would inherit the Iron Throne, and the eldest daughter would manage the newly upied Lys.


    ording to Grand Maester Orwyle''s judgment, Rhaenyra had a high probability of being pregnant with twins. A twin birth would mean one of the brothers could inherit the throne.


    Alicent''s face changed slightly, but she quietly poured the wine and sat down. Viserys was oblivious and gave his wife a smiling look.


    Otto''s eyes narrowed, and he said in a deep voice, "ording to the will left behind by King Jaehaerys, the male heir to the throne has a higher line of session than the female heir."


    Before Rhaenyra could respond, Viserys said in displeasure, "Rhaenyra was once the heir to the Iron Throne. I believe she has the ability to manage Lys."


    "Your Grace, you still have many heirs," Otto said unwillingly.


    Click!


    The stone ball smashed heavily on the groove. Rhaegar''s gaze was unkind, and his tone was forceful, "Lord Otto, the three city-states were conquered by me. It''s not for you toment on how to distribute them."


    "As a royal advisor, I have the obligation to boldly and directly advise."


    Otto spoke out in defense.


    Rhaegar grinned, a dangerous light shing in his eyes.


    "Take it easy, I''ll handle it."


    Sensing her brother''s defense, Rhaenyra patted the back of his hand and stood up, holding her round belly.


    Rhaenyra smiled peacefully, her eyes scanning the group of advisers. "My lords, some of you once swore allegiance to me when I was still a clueless young girl."


    Lyonel and Lyman nodded, not denying this. Even Corlys straightened his back, his majestic face taking on a more solemn expression.


    Excluding the new Orwyle and Tormund, the advisers present vividly remembered the allegiance ceremony back then.


    Rhaenyra cupped her hands around her stomach and smiled coyly, "In the blink of an eye, many years have passed. I''ve be a woman and will soon be a mother. My shoulders now bear another kind of duty."


    "Princess, we''ve seen it all."


    Corlys''s gaze sharpened.


    Several of Lyonel''s men nodded in agreement.


    Breeding the Targaryen bloodline and producing the rightful heir was practically as significant as conquering the disputednds.


    Receiving the ministers'' approval, Rhaenyra gained more confidence and said, "The Iron Throne already has an Heir Prince, and Lys still needs a Queen."


    "For the sake of my father and husband, and equally for the sake of my unborn child, I will govern with all my heart and soul."


    With that, she looked tenderly at Rhaegar, meeting his gaze for a moment.


    Rhaegar smiled softly and clutched her hand.


    Rhaenyra smiled shyly, her eyes falling on her father.


    Viserys looked at his sons and daughters with relief, and couldn''t help but miss histe wife Aemma Arryn.


    If Rhaenyra could be made Queen of Lys, the guilt of the original change of the Heir Prince could be wiped away.


    Happening to meet Rhaenyra''s eyes, Viserys froze slightly, and an encouraging look appeared in his eyes.

 Chapter 394: The Concept of Class

    Chapter 394: The Concept of ss


    It was hard for a group of veteran advisers who had sworn allegiance to object when words were spoken to such an extent.


    Corlys nced vaguely at his daughter and pped hisrge hand on the tabletop to indicate his approval of the proposal. With his reappointment as Master of Ships, it was better for a woman to be elected as the Prince of Lys than for the Heir Prince to manage it himself. Otherwise, it would be difficult for House Vryon to step in and share more benefits.


    Lyonel simrly agreed and moved on to the next topic, "There is no problem with the Princess managing Lys. We should discuss the selection of councillors."


    Lyman pondered, "There are multiple candidates for councillors. The Iron Throne should send one or more."


    "Your Grace, we should call upon the best from all over and select them fairly," Orwyle spoke up for the first time, his tone humble.


    "Wait, the choice of councillors is debatable," Viserys said with a smile, thinking of the two ambassadors present.


    For a while, no one cared about Otto, whose face was filled with disbelief. Only Alicent was glum, silently taking arge sip of her drink.


    Father and daughter wanted to fight for the interests of the children of the Green Faction, and it dawned on them that their power in the Small Council was far from sufficient. Between the King and the Heir Prince, they had been crushed to dust.


    The council went on.


    Rhaegar helped Rhaenyra sit down and bluntly confessed, "The councillors are tentatively set at three, with Johanna Swann taking one slot to stay in Lys to assist the future Queen."


    Viserys asked curiously, "Isn''t she the daughter of House Swann who was taken captive?"


    Johanna Swann''s tragic encounter had been a sensation.


    Rhaegar nodded, "A very capable woman. Her contributions at the Battle of Lys were noteworthy."


    He held a favorable opinion of Johanna. Partly out of pity, but more because of her outstanding ability to handle many of Lys'' affairs for him. Besides, the newly conquered, free-trading city-states of Tyrosh had been slow to submit to Daemon''s tyranny, and Rhaenys had failed to subdue the older nobles of Myr. Only Lys, with Johanna''s lobbying, rallied the remaining powerful and noble ss and basically stabilized the situation.


    Viserys was impressed and said with heartfelt pleasure, "With such a talented person loyal to the royal family, I believe Rhaenyra''s subsequent governance will be much easier."


    A sentence that sealed Johanna''s status as a councilor.


    Rhaegar smiled and raised his cup in a toast. He needed Johanna''s effectiveness to secretly control Lys'' politics. He couldn''t be stupid enough to give away his power by saying he would share it.


    Father and son joined in nning, and the people present looked at each other in disbelief.


    Corlys'' eyes were deep, ncing over the ambassadors of Pentos and Vntis, and nodding secretly. After years away from the center of politics, this king and cousin-inw had grown quite a bit in their political skills. Probably thanks to a good heir, who gave him the courage to say "no."


    After a moment''s thought, Corlys raised his hand and said calmly, "ording to what the Prince said earlier, the election of the second councilor goes to House Vryon."


    "Of course, Lord Corlys," Viserys agreed firmly.


    At the assured answer, a hint of a smile appeared on Corlys'' impassive face and he said no more. When it came to the interests of the family, there was nothing to be ashamed of. The royal family promised benefits, and he had no reason to back down.


    In three words, the two spots had owners.


    The ambassadors of Pentos and Vntis were no longer bashful and eagerly said, "Your Grace of the Iron Throne, our city-state deserves a councillor slot as well."


    At the beginning of the war, Targaryen negotiated interests with multiple parties.


    First, the distribution of taxes from the harbor. This was not difficult to achieve. The city-states of the Triarchy fell into the hands of the Iron Throne, who set the taxes.


    The Magister''s Council of Pentos and Vntis thought the taxes should be raised significantly and discussed a suitable tax to be divided among them. Even if the taxes of the three free trade city-states were too high, merchants would flow more into Pentos and Vntis.


    Secondly, there was thend and poption. Tyrosh fell into Daemon''s hands, and Myr and Lys were in the hands of the Iron Throne. Pentos and Vntis agreed that at least one city-state should be given to them. At the very least, arge amount ofnd and ve poption should be divided to repay them.


    But! The Targaryens clearly had no intention of paying such a high price.


    Viserys spread his hands and yed innocent, "There are only so many ces. I can give you thest one, and the two noble states must negotiate privately."


    The Pentos envoy frowned and pursued, "In addition to the councillor quota, I also ask Your Grace to take thend and poption of the Triarchy and distribute them."


    "No!" Viserys shook his head and vetoed, "I will not divide thends that belong to the Targaryens." After a pause, he insisted, "Westeros does not allow the buying and selling of ves, in any form!"


    The words were clear: don''t even think about thend and the people.


    The Pentos envoy''s face darkened, and he said solemnly, "Without the distribution ofnd and poption, what will the Iron Throne use to make up for the loss of its allies?"


    "Harbor taxes!" Rhaegar''s face was calm as he took over the topic.


    The Vntis envoy''s voice was dull, "With the taxes set by Lord Corlys, even if the full amount were distributed over ten years, it would not be enough to offset the deserved wealth!"


    Rhaegar spun the stone ball and said generously, "Therefore, I intend to divide it for a hundred years!"


    "What?"


    Viserys was stunned and thought he had heard wrong. One hundred years! That was a significantmitment, considering it had only been a hundred years since the Targaryens had ruled Westeros.


    "Hear me out, father." Not waiting for the advisers to object, Rhaegar said with a straight face, "In order to make up for the losses of our allies, I am willing to fairly distribute Lys''s taxes to offset thend and poption."


    "ordingly, House Vryon, Pentos, and Vntis will contribute to the repair and development of the harbor and not sit on the sidelines."


    Corlys frowned and said cautiously, "ording to your words, how much of the proceeds can we distribute?"


    Rhaegar had prepared for this and signaled Tormund to hand over a few lists. He justified, "The Iron Throne will upy 10%, The Prince of Lys will upy 30%, and the remaining 60% will be divided equally among the three parties."


    Each of the three parties would receive 20% for a period of up to a hundred years. A fortune beyond imagination. The Prince of Lys took a small percentage and shared 10% of the profits with the Iron Throne to strengthen the bond between the two parties.


    Corlys received the list and, after examining it, said in shock, "Prince, the rebuilding of Lys still requires us to pay for it?"


    The list clearly stated that the development of Lys would require financial contributions from the three parties and the Iron Throne.


    Rhaegar responded, "Lys suffered during the war. The Iron Throne cannot bear the financial burden alone. This is why I am offering a hundred years of tax collection."


    "Our return will take a hundred years to pay off?" Corlys noted the key point.


    Rhaegar replied, "A small initial investment will provide substantial ie for the next hundred years."


    "Allow me to think it over carefully," Corlys said solemnly.


    Rhaegar smiled and gave the three parties time to consider. The value of Lys''s harbor taxes was undeniable. Among the nine free trade city-states, only Braavos and Pentos were better.


    Not only did each party benefit from 20%, but there was also the right to manage the port to a certain extent. It was a tempting offer.


    It was a difficult decision for Rhaegar to make, but trading thend and poption of the Triarchy, and using the benefits to permanently annex Pentos and Vntis, would strengthen the Targaryen foothold in Essos.


    With three city-states in hand, sharing Lys''s benefits would preserve Myr and potentially share Tyrosh''s benefits with Daemon, minus the harbor taxes.


    As the allies pondered, the council went slightly quiet.


    Otto broke the silence, "Prince, with Lys adopting the council system, what are your thoughts on Myr?"


    Rhaegar calmly replied, "As an ind city-state, Myr will be ruled directly by the Crown, borrowing the style of governance from King''s Landing."


    The royal family would rule Myr, choosing various internal advisors and creating a colony that would expand outward as a city-state. He nned to reward noble second sons and poor knights who fought bravely, and to help develop the territory with loans.


    Encouraging a portion of Myr''s native ve ss would reinforce dominance within the city-state. In the long run, a perfect structure of viges and towns would form around the city-state.


    Otto''s eyes flickered as he said, "Myr needs talents. The Small Council can elect a group of young talents."


    "That''s right. This is something I need the advisers'' help with," Rhaegar replied, his gaze sharpening.


    Tormund pulled out another list and handed it over. Otto hesitantly took the list to check.


    Rhaegar smiled, "The construction of the three city-states requires many craftsmen. I intend to unify the issuance of ''craftsman registration.''"


    "A separate registration for craftsmen?" Otto asked, recognizing the meaning immediately.


    Rhaegar nodded. Otto frowned, puzzled, "The status of craftsmen is low. Dividing them into separate registries seems superfluous."


    Rhaegar exined, "It is to train craftsmen. There are many craftsmen, but the selection of certain types is rtively rare. Dividing the registers will help pass on their crafts."


    For example, stonemasons would be divided into stonemason registries, and their descendants would inherit the craft, ensuring continuity.


    Otto, skeptical, asked, "Even if you register the craftsmen, how will it make a difference?"


    Rhaegar patiently exined, "The registers will protect the craftsmen. They built the castles, made the armor and the stirrups. They are the best servants."

 Chapter 395: Alicent Plans a Marriage

    Chapter 395: Alicent ns a Marriage


    It was gettingte, dusk casting long shadows in the council hall. Two Kingsguard, d in silver armor and white robes, pushed open the solid wood doors.


    Led by Viserys, the meeting participants exited in turn, their expressions varied.


    Viserys beamed as he addressed the ambassadors from Pentos and Vntis. "The banquet is not yet over. You two are wee to join and enjoy the festivities."


    The scene resembled allies celebrating a sessful alliance. The ambassadors exchangedplicated looks but agreed to the invitation. The promise extended beyond just a meal; it included the strategic distribution of Lys''s harbor tax revenue. The Iron Throne''s offer of a century''s worth of taxes was substantial, and they needed to ry this proposal for approval by their respective leaders.


    "Your Grace, I will retire for now," Corlys said solemnly, bowing respectfully.


    "Not attending the dinner?" Viserys inquired.


    Corlys shook his head. "Given my responsibilities, I need to sort out the port taxes from recent years and n the restoration of Lys''s harbor."


    Viserys, not particrly fond of the Sea Snake, did not press him to stay. He nodded, allowing Corlys to leave.


    As the crowd moved out, Rhaegar spoke up. "Lord Otto, the matter of the craftsman registry is on the agenda. I will soon follow up in Myr."


    "Prince, King''s Landing has arge poption. I will do my best," Otto responded, taking a deep breath.


    "Good work," Rhaegar encouraged.


    The rules of Westeros were well established, with limited potential for reform. Rhaegar aimed to transform Myr into a city-state with a perfect system, experimenting with several new policies. The craftsman registry was just the beginning.


    In time, he nned to introduce a soldier''s registry. Myr had many unproductive ves who could be organized into soldier households, tasked with cultivating fields outside the city-state.


    During farming seasons, they would work thend; in wartime, they would provide young men for battle. This approach would address the survival issues of ves and alleviate the shortage of troops under royal jurisdiction.


    The existing feudal system in Westeros was inefficient: a bannerman''s bannerman was not directly loyal to the crown. The Targaryens'' reliance on noble support in times of conflict was unsustainable for a dynasty bent on great unification.


    Rhaegar sought to follow the example of his great-grandfather Jaehaerys, unconsciously correcting wed systems and constantly proposing reforms.


    Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed as a gray-robed maester hurried towards them, holding a letter.


    "Stop!" Erryk stepped forward, halting the maester in front of the group.


    "Kingsguard, this is a letter from Storm��s End," the maester said respectfully, handing over the letter.


    Viserys perked up, asking, "News from Storm��s End Castle?"


    The Dornish invasion of Cape Wrath had been a constant source of concern for him.


    "Your Grace, one moment," Tormund and Orwyle exchanged nces before Tormund took the letter, inspecting it carefully.


    Satisfied that there were no issues, Tormund smiled as he handed over the letter, "It''s good news."


    The letter, written by Aemond himself, detailed how he and Laenor had used dragons to decimate the Dornish forces and relieve the harassed Crow��s Nest and Griffin''s Roost Castles.


    Rhaegar nced at the letter and nodded approvingly. Aemond, despite his youth, showed a depth of mind that surpassed even Aegon''s. He was a promising talent.


    Viserys, reading the letter, beamed with pride, "Aemond and Laenor performed admirably. The Dornish cannot withstand the dragons'' Dragonfire."


    "Let me see," Alicent said anxiously, taking the letter. With her sons out in the world, she worried constantly, praying to the Seven Gods every night for their safety.


    Reading that Aemond had secured the road to Storm��s End Fortress and was now stationed in the Rainwood, Alicent finally felt a sense of relief.


    Viserys, still smiling, remarked, "Aemond led a army and became amander at such a young age."


    Alicent sighed with relief, "I just pray for his safety. He is still so young."


    Compared to the adult Aegon, the ten-year-old Aemond was a greater source of anxiety for her.


    Rhaegar''s eyes gleamed with an idea, "Father, it would be best to resolve the war in the Stornds as quickly as possible."


    He proposed that the Crownds send arge army while the fleet stationed on the Stepstones Inds attacked the Dornish forces on both sides. He and Aegon would use their dragons to help snuff out the war decisively.


    Viserys, understanding the depth of his son''s suggestion, expressed concern, "You''ve just captured the Triarchy. Don''t you need to rest for a while?"


    War was not child''s y, and prolonged involvement could take a toll on one''s mind.


    Rhaegar hesitated, considering the challenges in Lys and Myr. It was true; they needed a break.


    Jasperfrom the Stornds spoke up, "Your Grace, with Prince Aemond supported by Storm��s End Castle, it''s only a matter of time before we drive the enemy back."


    He had been closely monitoring the Stornds battlefield, and Aemond''s reputation was growing. With the battle-hardened Royce Caron and Laenor, victory seemed assured.


    Viserys, still uncertain, weighed the decision to send additional troops.


    Otto took the letter and said in a low voice, "The letter states that the army has already approached Stonehelm, and victory is assured."


    Viserys, relieved, ordered, "It is better to transfer three thousand soldiers to assist and speed the conclusion of the war."


    "Under the right circumstances, we can still deploy Prince Aegon to assist, and there is a garrison on the Stepstones Inds," Otto proposed, suggesting additional support through sea battles.


    Rhaegar turned to Tormund, "What is the situation at the Boneway and Prince''s Pass?"


    The Narrow Sea War had spread over a considerable distance. Braavos had attacked only once and then focused on a trade war. Dorne, despite holding back for so long, had sent troops into the Stornds with little sess. This behavior didn''t match the usual aggression of jackals and vultures. If something seemed unusual, it warranted further scrutiny.


    Tormund reported honestly that the Boneway and the Prince''s Pass were being guarded. Apart from a group of scattered stragglers, the Dornish had no intention of sending additional troops.


    Rhaegar remained uneasy and urged Tormund to send a message to Highgarden and ckhaven, advising them not to let their guard down. The Dornish were cunning and needed to be watched carefully.


    As they discussed, the group descended the stairs from the corridor.


    Alicent, walking ahead and holding her husband''s hand, said seriously, "The Maiden''s Day is in a few days, and I''ve invited wonderful girls from all over the realm. I''ll call Aegon back for it as well."


    The Maiden''s Day, a traditional event of the Faith of the Seven Gods, was held every summer. Unmarried maidens entered the sanctuary to pray to the Seven Gods for blessings. Over time, it had be an unwritten rule among nobles, providing a sensible and reasonable opportunity for young noblewomen and noblemen to meet.


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow and nced at Rhaenyra beside him. When he had first chosen his marriage partner, his father had intended to use the Maiden''s Day as an excuse. Sensing his gaze, Rhaenyra tightened her arms around him and smiled smugly.


    Viserys was in favor, "Aegon is of age; it''s time for him to choose a wife."


    Alicent''s gaze was firm, "Not only Aegon, but many lords will bring good sons from their families so that Hena can also choose a husband."


    "Hena?" Viserys was stunned and a bit resistant. ording to old Valyrian customs, it was preferable for female members to marry within the family, ensuring the purity of the bloodline.


    In his father''s generation, there were more females than males, especially since Vaegon the Dragonless refused to marry. This imbnce led many of his aunts to marry outside the family line.


    In Viserys'' generation, his cousin Rhaenys married outside the family. Viserys himself married Aemma Arryn, with mixed Targaryen and Arryn bloodlines, and together they had two pure-blooded children.


    His younger brother Daemon was less fortunate, with no cousins avable to marry, leading him to wed Lady Rhea of Runestone. After Lady Rhea''s death at the ck Wedding, Daemon married Laena of Targaryen blood.


    Maintaining family tradition was a demanding affair, requiring careful consideration and strategic marriages.


    Among Viserys'' children, there were more males than females. Keeping Hena within the family seemed far more valuable than marrying her off. Considering this, Viserys whispered, "We should ask Aegon if he is willing to marry Hena, or wait for little Daeron to grow up a bit."


    Following the marital wishes of one''s children did not mean acting arbitrarily. If Aegon was unwilling to marry Hena, there were other options.


    Alicent was reluctant: "It will be years before Daeron is old enough."


    "That''s nothing. Didn''t Rhaenyra wait years for Rhaegar?" Viserys replied casually. Given Rhaenyra and Rhaegar''s previous experience, the seven-year difference between Hena and Daeron seemed manageable.


    Alicent shook her head, refusing, "No, Hena can''t wait!"


    "For what reason?" Viserys said, puzzled.


    Alicent nced back at Rhaegar and gritted her teeth, "I''m doing this for the sake of the family, to avoid someone making a mistake!"


    She could see that her daughter had a crush on Rhaegar. Not only did the ck and green sides not get along, but Rhaegar was already married!


    Viserys wasn''t a fool. He nced at his eldest son and then at his youngest daughter who had fallen behind, and absurd thoughts surfaced.


    "You mean, Hena..." Viserys was very surprised.


    "That''s why I wanted to end it before it was toote!" Alicent lowered her voice, trying to contain her emotions.


    Viserys fell silent. That was unexpected, never in a million years would he have guessed it!


    In the back, Rhaegar felt uneasy under their gaze. Intuition told him that something was wrong.


    Suddenly, he sensed someone staring at him. Rhaegar turned and met a pair of clear eyes. Hena, hands hanging at her sides, was walking down the stairs with lowered eyebrows. Every now and then, she raised her head and looked over with her light purple eyes.


    Rhaegar caught her gaze just in time. Hena looked confused for a moment, her eyes filled with emotions, and then she consciously lowered her head for two seconds. The action was very coherent, without a hint of panic that her thoughts had been discovered.


    Rhaegar retracted his gaze, his heart pounding. The little girl''s mood was not right; she seemed to harbor feelings she shouldn''t.


    In his unseen field of vision, Hena raised her head again, staring straight ahead at her eldest sibling. Her eyes were pure, with a touch of hope and envy. She couldn''tpete with her sister and could only watch silently. The young girl''s mind was simple but not stupid. She was waiting for an opportunity to fit in logically.


    Seeing that no one noticed her, Hena whispered to herself, "The dragon has three heads...."

 Chapter 396: Helaena’s Prophecy

    Chapter 396: Hena��s Prophecy


    Seven dayster.


    It was midday, and the sun was shining brightly.


    The hot rays poured down, adding a stifling heat to the already humid King''s Landing.


    Inside the Dragonpit.


    "Roar ......"


    "Roar!"


    In the dim environment, two unbound young dragons soared up and down, colliding like shes of light.


    One dragon, muchrger, had cobalt blue scales with orange-red scales extending from its lower jaw to its abdomen, gaudy and elegant.


    The other, only half the size of its opponent, had silver-white scales and golden vertical pupils, its head majestic and fierce.


    These were Tessarion and the young dragon Stormcloud, bred in the Dragonpit.


    "Roar..."


    Tessarion moved dexterously, pping its blue wings to fly high, ejecting cobalt blue mixed with orange Dragonfire from its mouth.


    Poof!


    Stormcloud bravely faced the dragonfire head-on, his silver-white scales burning with traces of scorched ck.


    "Roar.."


    The distance closed, and Stormcloud instantly pounced on his opponent, opening his fangs to bite.


    Tessarion retaliated fiercely, strangling Stormcloud''s neck with one of his dragon ws and spraying dragonfire at Stormcloud''s head.


    The brilliant dragonfire burned brightly and struck with force.


    Stormcloud hissed in shock, its golden pupils narrowing as its head withstood the blow.


    Within a few breaths, the dragon''s head burned to charcoal, and a pair of gray horns turned dark.


    The tangle did not stop!


    "Roar..."


    Stormcloud pped his wings defiantly, aiming his dragon''s maw at Tessarion''s head.


    Its throat surged, and a mouthful of snowke-like streaks of silver-white Dragonfire gushed out.


    Boom!


    Tessarion, careless and gullible, was hit squarely by the Dragonfire, letting out a hiss of pain.


    Stormcloud saw its chance and bit the back leg of its opponent''s locked neck, its fangs piercing the cobalt blue scales.


    The scales shattered, and Tessarion let go of its ws in pain.


    Stormcloud regained his free form and quickly disengaged from the mid-air battlefield.


    "Roar!"


    Tessarion, now truly enraged, stabilized his stance with the intention of pursuing.


    Just then, a bright and loud scream rang out.


    "Stop!"


    The voice seemed to contain magical power. Tessarion''s movements stopped, and its anger melted away like snow.


    On the ck stone b, Rhaegar tilted his head and looked out, holding an ancient sheepskin book.


    "Roar..."


    Tessarion nced at him, full of reluctance, and gave up the fight, retreating back into the Dragonpit in the corner to recuperate.


    Stormcloud, on the other hand,nded on the ground, stretching out its shiny silver wings to reflect its handsome appearance.


    "Heh, what a ferocious nature," Rhaegar guffawed, flipping open the sheepskin book topare its contents.


    The ancient book was a cherished document from Lys, recording descriptions of the Dragonlord families, including methods for nurturing young dragons and making them fight each other.


    In the Dragonpit, Tessarion had reached adolescence, at thirty feet long andparable to a elephant.


    Stormcloud, still too young, was just the size of an ordinary horse, barely able to muster somebat power.


    In their fight, Tessarion had the clear advantage, fighting with ease. Stormcloud, like a defiant newborn calf, bit his opponent with unyielding vigor.


    Rhaegar read the pages for a while when footsteps came to his ears.


    "Roar..."


    First came a shrill roar.


    Tyraxes''s massive dragon head fidgeted back and forth, pping its mist-colored gray wings as it flew in midair. Shackles were ced on his slender hind feet, controlled by a mossy-faced Dragonkeeper. The young dragon had a fiery temperament and was restless. If not controlled by chains, it would fly wildly and spit Dragonfire at all living things in front of it.


    Rhaegar closed the ancient book and looked at the magnificent Stormcloud and the grotesque Tyraxes in session, the corners of his mouth unconsciously curling up.


    "These are valuable family resources."


    Rhaenyra was pregnant with twin children and had picked two dragon eggs in advance to prepare. However, the hatching of dragon eggs depended too much on probability and was not always certain.


    Of course, with the purity of Rhaegar''s bloodline at the time Rhaegar had impregnated her, the talent of the two children was bound to be exceptional. It was not unreasonable to hope they would soon hatch young dragons.


    On this premise, if something happened to the children''s eggs, Stormcloud and Tyraxes were the first choice to tame.


    When the Dragonkeeper approached, Rhaegar instructed, "Take care of the two young dragons, and keep an eye on Tessarion."


    Speaking High Valyrian, he had quite the air of uttering a forbidden magic spell. Thenguage was simr, the pronunciation simr. Since his bloodline had metamorphosed into dragonborn, some of the transcendent gestures had unconsciously changed.


    "Yes Prince!" The Dragonkeeper nodded solemnly.


    Apart from this aged Dragonkeeper, there were also some young Dragonkeepers of the new generation within the Dragonpit. As Rhaegar turned around, he found a familiar face in the corner.


    Denys Waters.


    At this time, this Dragonkeeper had cut off his silver blonde curly hair and shaved it into the uniform inch of a Dragonkeeper. His clothing became rough linen, and he held a bamboo staff with very resolute eyes.


    Rhaegar asked, "How is Denys integrating?"


    "Very hard working and talented," the Dragonkeeper answered truthfully.


    Rhaegar nodded at his words and asked no more questions.


    After the battle of Lys, Denys offered the dragon egg that hatched Tyraxes, which could be said to be a great feat. In terms of merit, he deserved to be made a knight. It seems that he didn''t notice Denys''s movements and detained him in the attic for too long, irritating him. When they met again, the other man had shaved his head and swore an oath to be a Dragonkeeper of his own free will.


    Dragonkeeping is not a very ancient profession. The founder was Rhaena Targaryen, the ck Bride. The first group of Dragonkeepers was formed by Rhaena after she med herself for the loss of three of Dreamfyre''s eggs.


    Not just anyone can be a Dragonkeeper, but it was basically the bastards sons of a Targaryens many generations ago.


    Bastards have Valyrian blood and are good at learning themon dragon-tamingnguage made up of the higher Valyriannguages, which reduces the dragon''s bad temper. This is the reason why all of the Dragonkeepers shave their heads to hide who they once were.


    Denys did this, presumably because he was afraid of being silenced and offered his loyaltypletely. Rhaegar didn''t care much about that. However, if there is merit, there must be reward, so Denys''s daughter was picked up at the Red Keep and ced beside Hena as a femalepanion.


    When she grows up a bit, they will find a young and capable adult to marry her to, thus blessing the child.


    ...


    Walking out of the Dragonpit, Rhaegar took a carriage to the River Gate.


    As the Dragonpit gate closed, a few loud, sharp roars echoed through the air. Rhaegar smiled and continued to study the contents of the ancient book.


    The carriage moved swiftly down Rhaenys'' Hill and through the crowded Silk Street. The Maidens'' Day had arrived, drawing noble lords from across the realm to King''s Landing and breathing new life into the majestic city.


    Rhaegar nced out the window and noticed the hustle and bustle of the various brothels. The doorways were crowded with people, their silhouettes animated in the lively atmosphere. Whether richly dressed adults or downtrodden knights, they emptied their purses to gain entry.


    "Brothels are truly a profitable business; it''s a shame the taxes aren''t raised," Rhaegar murmured softly, his eyes glittering with a spective light.


    The character of Lys was evident in the blossoming pleasure houses and the variety of sex workers that adorned the city. Human nature''s desire for such establishments couldn''t be suppressed, but it could be controlled.


    Crunch...


    The carriage crossed Silk Street and followed a wide, prosperous avenue straight to the River Gate. Along the way, Rhaegar asionally looked out and observed the lives of the people of King''s Landing.


    The mostmon were three types of people: nobles spending money on pleasure, merchants running their businesses, andmoners living frugally.


    "There are hardly any cksmiths to be seen..." Rhaegar''s thoughts drifted as he analyzed the various professions more closely. In a city-state, merchants and smiths were the mainstream.


    Lost in thought, time passed slowly.


    The carriage arrived at the River Gate, where workers were busy moving and transporting goods on the pier, and many ships were moored at sea. These were mostly nobles from all over the realm who hade for the Maiden''s Day, along with some cargo ships following the reopening of the canal.


    Tormund, dressed in ck and white robes, stood conspicuously at the pier.


    Rhaegar called him over to inquire about the arranged tasks.


    Tormund replied, "Five hundred naturalized craftsmen were sent to the ships and have sailed to Lys."


    "Otto is very meticulous in his work," Rhaegar acknowledged.


    Lys and Myr were in dire need of all types of craftsmen, making it an opportune moment to distribute the craftsman registrations.


    ...


    Red Keep


    Arge number of nobles poured into the Red Keep, bringing their families and children with them. The banquet hall, the castle courtyard, and the Godswood were all packed with people and buzzing with activity.


    The weather was hot, so servants brought buckets of wine and dug up ice from the icehouse. Despite their best efforts, the nobles were still sweating profusely in the heat.


    This stifling weather only encouraged the nobles to drink and sing even more enthusiastically.


    Alicent was busy entertaining guests from all over the realm. Amidst the hustle and bustle, sweat soaked her back, and she reluctantly went to change, her smile strained but unwavering.


    ...


    Queen''s Bedchamber


    "Green... ck... Tangled..."


    The young girl''s murmurs floated softly, her voice ethereal. Inside the chamber, the walls were adorned with murals of men and women, while a soft Lys felt carpety in the center of the room.


    Three little silver and blonde-haired girls knelt in a circle on the felt, absorbed in their y. Hena, with her head bowed, calmly manipted two balls of thread.


    Beside her, two other girls, one older and one younger, remained silent, not daring to disturb Hena in her trance-like state.


    The older girl, with milky white skin, was La, the bastard daughter of Vntis. The younger one, about seven or eight years old, was Jasmine, the daughter of Silver Denys.


    Snap--


    Suddenly, Hena pped her hands together, pressing the tangled threads onto the felt. Little Jasmine flinched, her fleshy face turning pale.


    "Shhh!"


    Hena hushed her, eyes grave. "He wants a city, and he''s going to pay for it."


    La and Jasmine frowned in unison, puzzled by Hena''s cryptic words. Despite their brief time together, they had grown ustomed to Hena''s mysterious utterances.


    Crunch--


    The door to the room opened, and Alicent, her face flushed from the sun, walked in quickly.


    "Your Grace, the Queen..."


    The two little girls hurriedly stood and curtsied.


    "It''s you two."


    Alicent maintained herposure, nced at her impassive daughter, and said helplessly, "You girls go out first. I need to chat with Hena."


    "Yes, Your Grace."


    The two little girls gathered their toys and obediently left the room.


    Hena remained with her head bowed, seemingly oblivious to the outside world.

 Chapter 397: Aegon’s Maiden’s Day

    Chapter 397: Aegon��s Maiden��s Day


    Queen''s Bedchamber


    Bang!


    The door to the room closed, and the room grew quiet.


    Alicent bent down and took her daughter''s hand. "There are many adults arriving today," she whispered.


    Hena turned a deaf ear and muttered, "Bears in the sea..."


    The words came out dry, as if her eyes were piercing through unseen images.


    "Hena," Alicent tried to embrace her, eyes full of pity. "My daughter."


    Hena quickly turned away, coldly avoiding her mother''s embrace.


    Alicent looked stunned, her pupils trembling as she looked at her daughter. "I need rest," Hena murmured, lowering her fine eyebrows. Then, as an afterthought, she added, "Mother."


    She had just seen many, many unfamiliar images, a stream of visions poked into her head like a rough stick. The images prated her mind, blurring her memory.


    Alicent dropped her hand awkwardly, ignoring the ck and green spools of thread on the felt. She sighed softly, "You''re a big girl now, it''s time to go out and see the world."


    "I''m a Targaryen. We own the world," Hena replied calmly, looking away.


    "You may have a dragon, but you can''t live on its back for the rest of your life," Alicent said, trying to hold back her frustration as she pressed on convincingly.


    Hena clenched her small hands and stood up, moving away from her mother. "I don''t want this."


    She was no longer the little girl who cried like a toddler or babbled incoherently. She knew that she was not only a Dragonrider, but also a rare Dreamer. Her brother had told her that there was nothing in this world that she couldn''t have if she wanted it.


    Alicent, trying to remain patient, continued, "It is the rules of the world that you are of age to marry."


    "Whose rules?" Hena shot back, her incredulity clear.


    She walked over to the wall and lowered her sword, "Long Summer". Her small hands pulled out part of the de, revealing the cold, rippling steel that illuminated her soft face. Hena stroked it gently, her eyes showing her affection.


    It was clear that the little girl loved this sword. Dreamfyre gave her courage, and Long Summer was her will.


    Seeing this, Alicent''s frustration peaked. "Hena, you are ady. It is a woman''s destiny to marry and have children. Don''t y with that sword."


    Alicent couldn''t contain her anger, her sunburnt face now flushed with rage.


    House Hightower from Oldtown was a respected and ancient noble house, and it had taught Alicent to be proud and reserved since she was young. She embraced the beliefs of the Seven Gods and learned the ways of ady.


    Her father, Otto, had convinced her to reach out to the bereaved king, using shameful tactics to put her in line for the throne. This caused her to go against her heart and betray her former friend, Rhaenyra. It stuck like a thorn in her heart.


    Since then, Alicent had always remembered the family honor, abiding by sacrifice, paying the price, and adhering to the rules as a form of self-redemption.


    She had suppressed her feelings for years, watching her children grow up one by one. She thought her efforts had borne fruit, only to be confronted with a rebellious reality that pped her hard.


    Click!


    Long Summer slid back into its sheath as Hena whispered softly, "Mother, I know how to wield a sword."


    She looked down at her feet, ncing at her mother out of the corner of her eye. In her own way, she reminded herself that she was growing up, quietly rebelling against her mother''s intense and ufortable affection. Except in front of Rhaegar, she was an innocent and sweet little girl.


    Hena was usually quiet and rarely spoke much. Alicent didn''t care and tapped her forehead in frustration. "Grab some things, you''reing with me to meet someone in a few minutes."


    "Okay," Hena nodded briefly, not wanting to irritate her mother any further.


    To outsiders, she was a girl with a troubled mind. But to her, it was her mother who seemed mentally unwell. Alicent, driven by her grandfather''s ambitions and her own insecurities, had no real sense of self. Hena saw her mother as the poor girl forced into a role she didn''t really understand or want.


    Alicent sat on her knees, red-eyed and silently crying,menting the injustice of her fate. There was no one she could trustpletely, not even her father or her husband.


    "Blessed be the Seven Gods," Alicent murmured, closing her eyes and sping her hands in prayer.


    ...


    On the other hand, a painted white carriage returned to the Red Keep.


    Banquet Hall


    Rhaegar sidestepped through the crowded flow of people and ascended the stairs. The joyous news of defeating the Triarchy had spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms, causing nobles everywhere to rejoice.


    The queen had decreed that a Maiden''s Day Festival be held, and the nobles, smelling the signals of potential unions, all wanted to get their hands on the benefits.


    "Prince..."


    "Long live the prince..."


    With his long, attention-grabbing silver and gold hair, Rhaegar was surrounded by nobles who greeted him enthusiastically wherever he went. He smiled and responded to each one.


    Upstairs, the room opened up a bit, making it easier to move around. Most of the women were gathered here, sitting around tables in groups of three or five, chatting about all sorts of gossip and interesting things.


    Rhaegar looked around and saw Little Daeron behind a beaded curtain. Little Daeron spotted him and greeted him happily, "Brother, I have a ce here."


    The little boy was neatly dressed, his hair neatlybed, and he had the air of a small adult. Rhaegar waved and walked over to sit with him.


    Lifting the beaded curtain, he saw three benches with goose feather cushions surrounding a triangr area. Little Daeron was sitting alone on one of the benches, with a half-open ancient book beside him. The twins, Ba and Rhaena, sat on the other two benches.


    "Roar..."


    The young dragon, Morning,y on her back in Rhaena''s arms, hissing weakly at Rhaegar. After two months, Morning had not grown much, still the size of a house cat. Compared to her previous sickly, breathless appearance, Morning was much more energetic, her vertical pupils spinning as she looked curiously at Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar also looked at the little dragon a few times. With light pink scales all over her body and ck, pearl-like dragon horns, her appearance was indeed rare and beautiful. But she was crippled.


    Seeing his arrival, the twins greeted him in unison, "Cousin."


    Theirst name was Targaryen, an extension of Daemon''s bloodline.


    "I just came by to sit for a while. You know, walk the floor," Rhaegar said with a gentle face as he sat next to Daeron.


    "Roar..."


    Morning broke free of its master''s embrace and pped its magnificent wings to fly to the coffee table, freezing in ce as it stared at Rhaegar. The neck stretched several times, trying to get close and then shrinking back.


    Rhaegar''s eyes flickered slightly. He raised his hand to stroke the young dragon''s head and smiled. "Looks like she''s recovering well."


    Rhaena nodded repeatedly. "I''ve listened to you and taken Morning out often to feel the earth''s fire, and her food intake has increased."


    "Dragonmont is a good ce, and an asional visit to the Isle of Faces is fine," Rhaegar suggested as he scratched Morning''s jaw.


    Dragons were magical creatures of blood and fire, and the fire magic of volcandscapes was the strongest, helping to replenish the energy of young dragons with innate deficiencies.


    As he spoke, Rhaegar secretly summoned his fire magic and channeled it against Morning''s scales.


    Morning shivered pleasantly and opened its wings, clinging to Rhaegar''s arm, unwilling to let go. Rhaegar held still, channeling fire magic into the young dragon''s body.


    With his powerful perception, he was exceptionally sensitive to fire magic. Each dragon contained raging fire magic, much like a burning bonfire. The three adult dragons - Cannibal, Vhagar, and Vermithor - were like little volcanoes, brimming with explosive power.


    Based on observation, dragons did not actively absorb fire magic, but their massive bodies could autonomously absorb it, growing stronger with age. Morning''s innate weakness was her low efficiency in absorbing fire magic.


    As a young dragon, if Tyraxes could absorb arge pot of fire magic, Morning could only manage a small cup. However, her condition had improved slightly with the nourishment of earth fire.


    After a while, Rhaegar withdrew his arm and patted the seemingly drunken Morning, encouraging it, "Feed well and you will be a great dragon."


    Rhaena hugged Morning gently and nodded vigorously, "Uh-huh! I''ll take good care of her."


    Rhaegar turned to see little Daeron holding an ancient book, reading intently. He reached out to snatch it, "Read a little less, you''re bing a bookworm."


    It was enough for the Targaryens to have one dragonless schr. There was no need for another.


    Little Daeron obediently let out an "oh" and sat down quietly.


    Rhaegar frowned slightly. Compared to his other siblings, Little Daeron''s strength was learning and understanding manners, but his weakness was ack of opinions. Without Hena and Aemond to guide him, he was more or less idle.


    "Where did Aegon go?" Rhaegar asked casually, ncing around.


    The focus of the Maiden Day Festival was not the maidens, but Aegon, who wanted to marry one. He had returned to King''s Landing on Sunfyre overnight.


    Little Daeron raised an eyebrow, pointed his little finger behind another beaded curtain and muttered, "He''s over there."


    Rhaegar looked and saw several people through the beaded curtain. Aegon, with a smug look on his face, leaned back on a bench and raised his ss of wine. Several maidens of outstanding beauty surrounded him.


    Among them was Margaery Tyrell of Highgarden. Dressed in a pale green gown, the little rose gazed at Aegon with a smile on her lips. Her soulful eyes twinkled as if she were watching a show. The other maidens were a bit younger than her.


    Rhaegar recognized them by the house emblems on their jewelry - a tall tower, a walking hunter, and three hives in ck and yellow stripes. When he saw the Honeyholt emblem, heughed softly, "Lord Lyman is eager to marry into the royal family as well."


    That was the crest of House Beesbury of Honeyholt.


    Little Daeron turned and flopped on the back of his chair, staring at another blonde girl and whispering, "Look, that''s the Lannister girl."


    Rhaegar nced over and said casually, "A branch of the House of much lower status."


    At that moment, Aegon waspletely unaware that his brothers were watching from the sidelines. He lifted the silver and gold hair that covered his forehead and gestured dramatically:


    "Braavosunched a sneak attack on the Three Sisters Inds with hundreds of warships. It was up to me and Sunfyre to fight them off. We burned those mercenaries until they cried for their mothers..."


    He looked genuinely heroic.


    p...


    Margaery pped her small hands, pursed her lips, and smiled, "To the brave Prince Aegon, and to the golden Sunfyre."


    She raised her wine ss and took a dainty sip. The two girls from the Lannister and Tully Houses looked at each other, seeing suspicion in each other''s eyes.


    They were well-informed and knew that nothing like what Prince Aegon described had happened. The girl from House Hightower, however, ignored these details and cooperatively raised her ss to drink.


    Seeing this, Aegon raised his chin high, seemingly believing his own tale.


    Not far away, Rhaegar and Little Daeron witnessed it with their own eyes, exchanged a heartfelt nce, and blurted out, "How humiliating!"

 Chapter 398: Aemond’s Thoughts

    Chapter 398: Aemond��s Thoughts


    "Aegon is shameless!"


    Little Daeron covered his face with both hands, feeling the embarrassment keenly. Having a brother who bragged so shamelessly was humiliating.


    Rhaegar held his forehead with one hand, utterly speechless. How could Aegon boast so brazenly without fear of retribution from the people of the Three Sisters Inds? Thosewless and impoverished people might just sneak up on him during one of his brothel visits.


    Rhaegar sighed, "We need to urge the gold cloaks to patrol closely."


    "What happened?" the twins asked, drawn over by themotion. They plopped down on the same bench with their refreshments to watch.


    For a moment, four silver and gold heads huddled together, all staring at Aegon as he spun his wild tales. They didn��t move much, but their conspicuous presence quickly drew attention.


    Margaery sat demurely, looking up at Aegon with feigned surprise, doing her best to y along with the prince��s exaggerated stories. Her brown eyes held a hint of hidden amusement. Despite her young age, she managed to appear as if she were humorously indulging a child.


    The other girls followed suit, heaping praise on Aegon, making him glow with pride. He raised his wine bottle, ready to showcase his drinking prowess.


    Suddenly, Margaery��s eyes flickered, noticing the silver-gold reflections across the room. Raising her gaze, she spotted four Targaryens of varying sizes.


    "Prince Rhaegar!" Margaery cried out in surprise, lifting her skirts joyfully as she approached.


    Rhaegar looked stunned and frowned slightly. His intuition were sensitive, and facing Margaery''s gaze, he felt an inexplicable sense of unease.


    "Prince, long time no see." Margaery curtsied demurely, smiling. "I haven''t had time to congratte you on your great victory over the Triarchy. I believe the king will soon organize a special merit banquet in your honor."


    Rhaegar smiled politely, "Thank you for remembering, Lady Margaery."


    As they chatted, he subtly adjusted his seating position, holding the twins in front of him as a barrier. The feeling of being watched intensified as Margaery closed the distance.


    The sensation wasn��t like Jeyne��s affection or Hena��s adoration. It was an unabashed, naked covetousness.


    Suddenly being hugged, Rhaena tilted her small head, "What''s wrong?"


    The little girl had a delicate mind, inheriting her mother Laena''s gentleness.


    "Stupid! Be quiet." Ba, smarter and more perceptive, covered her sister��s mouth and leaned into Rhaegar��s arm.


    She could see it. The milky-skinned woman across the room had eyes much like those of the women who had tried to seduce her father. Cousin was her foster mother��s husband, and they had to help look after him.


    Rhaena closed her little mouth in resignation and scooted over to lean on her sister��s side.


    Morning hissed shrilly, squeezed between the two sisters and struggling outward as hard as it could.


    He smiled apologetically at Margaery, unwilling to engage in too much small talk. Margaery��s eyes crossed over the twins, and she sat herself down on another bench, picking out topics that the little girls would enjoy. Within a few words, she had the twins giggling. Even Daeron, who had been covering his face, was drawn into the conversation, opening his box of toys to join in.


    Rhaegar secretly shook his head,menting the power of foreign enemies and the unreliability of allies. He considered Margaery��s presence in King��s Landing and spected that the only ones left in Highgarden were the old Lord Tyrell and the newly promoted Lady Tyrell.


    "Is there a conflict with her stepmother, Is she trying to avoid being kicked out?" Rhaegar mused, pouring himself a ss of sweet fruit wine and enjoying a moment of peace amidst the hustle and bustle.


    The heir to the Reach was a critical issue, but he couldn��t reach that far. He prayed that old Lord Tyrell still had the ability to reproduce or wouldn��t die too soon. During the Dornish Rebellion, the Reach couldn��t afford to be in disarray.


    The calm was short-lived. The Heir Prince, the Lord��s only daughter, and a few Targaryens together quickly attracted many eyes. A group of noblewomen and noblemen coveted the Heir Prince, but he was already married. Little Daeron was too young, so they could only look and sigh.


    On the contrary, Aegon��s side saw a lot of action. The girls from the Lannister and Tully Houses left behind their pre-selected marriage prospects and curtsied before joining Margaery.


    They did not want to disrespect Aegon. The king''s second son was still a prince, and they understood that. However, the second prince''s first choice for marriage was Selene of House Hightower, and they were merely attendants. When Margaery took the lead, they withdrew immediately.


    ...


    Several beautiful girls drifted away, leaving Aegon visibly displeased. "Don''t go away!" he muttered under his breath.


    He hadn''t finished his wine, and now most of the girls had left. Only two remained with him: Selene Hightower and Anna Beesbury.


    Selene was not stunningly beautiful, but she exuded a sense of freshness, dignity, and grace reminiscent of Alicent. Anna, on the other hand, was a slightly chubby girl with a very cute smile.


    Aegon nced at them both and then slumped down with his head hanging low. He had been quite taken with Margaery and the blonde beauty from House Lannister, both of whom had plump figures that he favored.


    The two girls left with him now were less to his liking. He had met Anna Beesbury once before, during his trip to the Rivends to ask for help in thest Battle of the Stepstones. She seemed a bit naive, and he found her father, Lord Lyman, annoying.


    Selene Hightower was quite pretty, with long white legs that were tempting, but Aegon felt a strong aversion. Shaking his head hastily, he thought to himself, "I won''t marry a woman from House Hightower even if I die!"


    ...


    At the same time


    Stornds, Rainwood Quarters


    "Knights on patrol, make way!"


    A group of a dozen or so Storm Knights, waving gs embroidered with a treasure-crowned stag, rushed to the entrance of the camp on horseback. Within moments, the fortress gate opened from the inside, and soldiers ran out to move the barriers.


    The Storm Knights entered the camp.


    "Roar..."


    A brown, y-colored dragon shadow cut through the sky, emerging from the lush woonds.


    On the dragon''s back, a silver-haired teenager d in light armormanded, "Sheepstealer, put me down!"


    As they reached the sky above the camp, Aemond''s eyes gleamed with excitement. He pped the dragon''s scales with his hand.


    "Roar..."


    Sheepstealer nced at his rider andnded slowly. The dragon reeked of blood, and its body was covered withrge and small pits, evidence of numerous battles. Its wide brown wings had a hole the size of a basin.


    Aemond climbed down from the dragon''s back, rubbing the dragon''s neck. "Good job, we burned another team of Dornishmen," he said smugly.


    "Roar..."


    Sheepstealer squinted and movedzily, its vertical pupils reflecting its visible disdain. Mounted on the dragon''s back, Aemond charged wherever the fight was fierce. Sheepstealer was not some ancient dragon that could endure endless abuse; it was a battle-scarred creature.


    As the dragon moved away, Aemond scratched his head in embarrassment. He called over a nearby soldier. "Go prepare some goats for my dragon. He needs a change today."


    "Yes, Prince," the soldier replied, hurrying off to fulfill the order.


    Sheepstealer''s ferocity was well-known, and he demanded a lot of food after each battle. Seeing the soldier''s respect and fear, the corners of Aemond''s mouth rose, satisfying his vanity.


    He turned and walked back to his tent. Inside, Royce Caron, d in silver and gray armor, waited. He held his helmet in one hand and pointed at a sand table with the other, specting on the battlefield''s changes.


    As a Lord of the Marches, Royce had rich experiencemanding battles, always maintaining control over the Stornds'' overall situation.


    "Lord Royce," Aemond greeted as he entered the tent.


    "Prince," Royce responded respectfully. He then turned serious. "The army has cleared the path. In a matter of days, we will strike from Crow��s Nest and break the siege of Stonehelm."


    Aemond frowned, pointing at the Rainwood location on the sand table. "What about the hidden Dornish detachments?"


    "They''re smallbat units, not a significant threat," Royce exined thoughtfully, aiming to educate Aemond. "Ourrge army consists of 3,000 cavalry, 5,000 archers, and 20,000 infantry. With Lord Swann of Stonehelm attacking the besieged Dornish soldiers on both sides, we can resolve the battle swiftly."


    He was Lady Elenda''s father and Cassandra''s maternal grandfather. Aemond was joined to his granddaughter by marriage, and as an elder, he felt it his duty to teach the knowledge of marching and fighting.


    Upon hearing this, Aemond''s frown deepened.


    At that moment, the tent curtain was lifted, and a tall and handsome knight walked in.


    The knight had a kind face and a gentle brow. He bowed and greeted them, "Lord Royce, Prince."


    Aemond nced at him, unimpressed.


    Royce''s expression grewplicated. "Cole, has Ser Laenor not arrived yet?"


    This knight was not the Kingsguard stationed in the Stepstones, Christon Cole. Cole was his first name; his surname was something else.


    Royce nodded, suspicion in his eyes. Laenor''s sexual orientation was well known. Cole came from amon background and was knighted at the First Battle of the Stepstones.


    The two had be longtimepanions. Cole was the second mate; the first was Ser Joffrey, Laenor''s childhoodpanion, who was banished from Driftmark Ind by the Sea Snake after Laenor''s marriage.


    Laenor, unwilling to be left alone, took a liking to the gentle and handsome peasant knight Cole. Their rtionship formed an underground affair that many in the barracks disapproved of, believing it to be against the faith of the Seven and the honor of knighthood.


    Aemond disliked both of them.


    Royce worried that the two would bring down his future grandson-inw and vaguely disapproved of too much contact between them.


    With the three of them in the tent, the tension was palpable.


    Despite being ustomed to other people''s stares, Cole still felt ashamed and lowered his head. "Lord Royce, the raven crows have sent a message. The Dornish have gathered thousands to attack Mistwood."


    Mistwood was located in the southern part of the Rainwood in Cape Wrath and was the domain of House Mertyns.


    Royce frowned, but before he could speak, Aemond''s eyes lit up. "Mistwood''s defenses are weaker than Stonehelm''s. We should support them first."

 Chapter 399: White Worm Brothel

    Chapter 399: White Worm Brothel


    Royce froze at Aemond''s words and responded in a deep voice, "Our primary goal is to drive Dorn''s main force out of the Stornds."


    Aemond quickly pointed to the spacing between Mistwood and analyzed, "If we split a team to support Mistwood, we can block the retreat of the Dornish on three sides."


    The Dornish fighting style involved hit-and-run tactics, constantly harassing their enemies. A team running from Mistwood could indeed block their retreat and prevent them from disappearing into the Rainwood likest time.


    Royce involuntarily raised an eyebrow, sensing a different intention.


    Cole, noticing the stalemate, spoke up, "My lord, we have two dragons; we can easily break through the Dornish line."


    "You agree with the prince''s strategy?" Royce asked rhetorically.


    Aemond''s gaze shifted to the tall Cole, scrutinizing him.


    A drop of cold sweat dripped from Cole''s forehead as he whispered, "We can arrange for Laenor to lead the rescue of Mistwood. He is eager to ride his dragon for battle."


    As an lover, Cole had certain privileges.


    Royce frowned and turned his head to look at Aemond, "What do you think?"


    "Very well," Aemond agreed, "Laenor will go out to fight, and I''ll stay in the Rainwood to clean up the remaining Dornishmen."


    Royce reluctantly agreed, realizing it made sense. "I''ll go back and organize the army. The king ordered three thousand soldiers to be sent to help in the battle. You''ll stay in the camp."


    He then directed his gaze at Cole, saying coldly, "Go to Ser Laenor and give the general orders."


    "Yes, my lord," Cole replied hurriedly.


    Royce barked a few more words to Aemond before walking out of the tent with his head lowered.


    At times like this, the importance ofmand was emphasized. Having two dragon riders in the army greatly affected battlefield coordination.


    Seeing Royce leave, Aemond''s eyes were dark and calcting, contemting how to deal with Lord Swann of Stonehelm. He was a man who held grudges.


    The House Swann opposed his fianc��e''s inheritance of Storm��s End and ndered Targaryen''s reputation with their words. He intended to take out his anger ruthlessly.


    Sensing the tension, Cole swallowed and hurriedly excused himself. He needed to find Laenor. The absence of his mate for thest few days had made him a little paranoid.


    ...


    It was nighttime, and the stars shone brightly.


    In King''s Landing, the night wind blew gently, dispelling the day''s dry heat and bringing a slight coolness.


    The urban area, cluttered with buildings, had streets and alleys as tangled as tree roots, with dpidated shacks everywhere.


    As far as the eye could see, unclothed people gathered in the shacks, holding broken bowls and drinking a food called "brown soup."


    asionally, a few children scurried about, stealing and foraging in groups.


    This was Flea Bottom, the most disorganized part of the city, where even the gold cloaks were unwilling to patrol.


    Crunching...


    A horse-drawn carriage stopped in front of a short stone building, its wooden wheels grinding on the crumbling stone road.


    The formerly intact green stone bs, worn down by years of wear and tear, were trampled to pieces.


    If it weren''t for the daily cleaning of the streets, the stone bs would be covered in foul-smelling feces and urine, making it impossible to see their true appearance.


    A young man on the carriage, alert and cloaked in ck robes, scanned his surroundings.


    Not far away, a stone building was brightly lit, and the sounds of men and women making love echoed.


    On the top floor of the short building, in a hidden attic, sat the White Worm, Mysaria. She wore a ck velvet hooded robe trimmed with blood-red silk.


    Her pale, beautiful face was calm as she sat with her legs crossed on the edge of the attic window, gazing through the window at the night view.


    Based on her appearance and temperament, she looked more like a noblewoman who had been through a lot rather than a prostitute.


    "Lady Mysaria, thank you for waiting."


    A ck-robed man pushed the door in, removing his hood to reveal his true face.


    It was none other than Otto Hightower, who had close dealings with the White Worm.


    As soon as Otto entered, he asked directly, "I heard you were nning to leave. Is your money still sufficient?"


    "There''s no need to worry, I''ve saved up quite a bit over the years."


    Mysaria turned her head and nced meaningfully at him.


    "That is the payment you deserve," Otto said nonchntly. "Since you are leaving, are you reselling some key information?"


    "By iInviting you here, this is exactly what I want to do."


    Mysaria didn''t waste words and said frankly, "I have some friends in Lys, and the disputednd is a mess right now. They need a lord like you."


    She emphasized the word "lord."


    In all fairness, Mysaria admired the Targaryen Heir Prince and was relieved to see what had happened to the Triarchy.


    They were three city-states full of very, and that was where she had lost her freedom.


    But the rules of the world were dirty by nature.


    When the original lords of the Triarchy were purged, a new set of lords would take their ce.


    Otto ignored her banter and first asked about Lys''s situation before saying, "Myr is quiet?"


    "In the Triarchy, Myr looks quiet, but there are dark currents."


    Mysaria''s eyes zed over as she said, "Lys has been stabilized by the Heir Prince, Daemon has violently suppressed Tyrosh, and only Myr is still in chaos.


    The Queen Who Never Was was uncrowned in the end, not a queen.


    Rhaenys had a strong character but didn''t have much experience in governing a city-state.


    The peace of Myr depended on the Unsullied Legion and the Knights of the Vale.


    Otto nodded, wondering how he could benefit from this.


    Listening to the Heir Prince''s words, Myr would adopt a monarchical system simr to King''s Landing.


    He could use his sons, nephews, and close associates as advisors. He could also use the fleet from Old Town to lead the opening of sea trade and control the resources of Myr''s ports.


    Simr tactics were used by Hightower throughout.


    Politics was more than war; it was also connections and wealth.


    Whew!


    A wisp of cool wind blew into the attic, causing the candlelight on the chandelier to sway.


    Mysaria lowered her sleeves to cover her bare, pale skin and took the initiative to speak, "Braavos has gathered a group of mercenaries, and the harbor of Sunspear receives a batch of goods every three days."


    "If you truly have the heart to serve your realm, you should focus on this and urge the king in the Red Keep."


    Otto looked back slightly and said faintly, "I will."


    Mysaria nced at him and realized that he didn''t take her words to heart. With a secret sigh, she felt a twinge of disdain.


    She was a dancer by birth, then became a prostitute, and was taken in as a mistress by Daemon. She reached her current position step by step on her own, without relying on Daemon''s help.


    Despite her lowly background, she still had a heart ofpassion. The Battle of the Narrow Sea had killed too many people, and Flea Bottom was home to many more homeless orphans. If the Dornish War started again, there would only be more refugees flooding into King''s Landing.


    Otto raised his eyelids, his eyes extraordinarily deep. She was just a whore, or Daemon''s mistress. He wouldn''t have looked twice if she didn''t have some use.


    If he really wanted to talk about kindness, he had rescued an unknown number of people when he was the Hand of the King. As Master of Civil Affairs at the time, he also helped clearnd and nt fields to help the disced people settle down and start their own families.


    But Mysaria? She was a maggot who sold her flesh, ran brothels for profit, and bought orphans and vagabonds to gather information.


    Low to the bone!


    Otto stayed for a while longer before offering his farewell.


    "King''s Landing is crowded with people," Mysaria said, looking at her pale fingertips. "I''m leaving. Some small spiders I can''t take with me, I''ll leave them for you to use."


    Otto paused, ncing at the calm, pale woman out of the corner of his eye. After a moment''s thought, he pushed the door open. "I''ll have someone send you a sum for your troubles."


    Outside the door, several boys of varying heights stood waiting, all scruffily dressed orphans.


    "My lord!"


    The orphans greeted with low bows.


    Otto''s face was impassive as he nodded. "Gather information for me and I will pay you a reward."


    The orphans, surprised, nced at Mysaria in the room.


    Mysaria didn''t even raise her head and casually said, "This lord is very rich, you should know that."


    These orphans often traveled between various "adults" and were very discerning. Hearing they were to join another master, they all bowed to Otto and ran out of the building in a puff of smoke.


    Otto did not care, put on his hood, and followed them downstairs.


    When silence returned to the attic, Mysaria turned back to the night view of King''s Landing, which she had long since grown tired of seeing. It was hard to not get attached after being in one ce for so long.


    Unfortunately, it was also a dirty, stinking cesspool.


    Full of worms, she thought.


    ...


    Red Keep


    The banquet hall was alive with the sound of drums and music, filled with countless nobles dancing and celebrating. The news of the Triarchy''s copse had spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms, carried by royal ravens.


    Taking advantage of the Maiden''s Day festivities, it was a grand celebration. Viserys sat in the main seat,ughing and drinking wine. If the hall wasn''t so crowded, he might have joined the dance floor himself.


    Halfway through his drink, he looked around and noticed none of his children, including Rhaegar, were present, as if by some unspoken agreement.


    Viserys felt a twinge of discouragement. The seat beside him, meant for Queen Alicent, was also empty. She had cited ill health and left the table early.

 Chapter 400: Swans Don’t Mate With Frogs

    Chapter 400: Swans Don��t Mate With Frogs


    Viserys sighed, the golden wine in his mouth suddenly unappetizing.


    Fortunately, a few old advisers were seated nearby, sharing wine and conversation.


    ...


    The dinner went on all night.


    At this point, Rhaenyra had long been sleepy and yawning, using Rhaegar as a pillow and dozing off.


    There was no way around it��her stomach was growing bigger by the day, and she often felt sleepy after eating and drinking.


    Rhaegar was happy and looking forward to the birth of their twin children.


    Through the cool evening breeze, the two embraced each other and slept.


    ...


    As the night deepened, dark clouds spread, covering the moon.


    In the Queen''s bedchamber, Arryk, dressed in silver armor and white robes, stood dutifully on night duty.


    Through the door, the sound of a heated argument came out.


    "She''s a good girl; she will make an excellent wife!"


    "On what grounds? I don''t like that girl."


    "......"


    Snap!


    The argument over marriage had just begun when a crisp p suddenly rang out.


    The retort was abruptly silenced, as if grabbed by the throat.


    Arryk''s face remained expressionless; he had long grown ustomed to this.


    A long moment passed.


    The door to the room mmed open, and Alicent stormed out, her green dress swaying.


    When she looked back, Aegon was sitting on the floor in a disheveled heap, a red, swollen p mark on the side of his face.


    Apparently, mother and son had had a "good-natured" talk.


    "Aegon, when are you going to grow up!"


    Alicent gritted her teeth, full of anger.


    Her husband was traditionally biased and neglected their children.


    Aegon, who had started with so much promise, had settled for the status quo and indulged in idleness all day long.


    In the long run, their downfall would only worsen.


    Listening to his mother''s reprimand, Aegon froze in ce, feeling iprehensible.


    Alicent grew more furious, and coldly said, "Think about it, will you ept my proposal, or will you just arrange for a minor noble''s daughter?"


    Aegon reddened and stared at the floor for a moment, lost in thought.


    He was contemting whether his mother''s words were right or wrong.


    Alicent rolled her eyes in exasperation and extreme disappointment, "You are so unlike my son!"


    Turning on her heel, she strode towards the hallway beyond.


    Arryk stayed quiet the entire time, lifting his foot with the intention of following.


    With a wave of her hand, Alicent shrugged without looking back, "No need, Ser. I''ll take a walk alone."


    "Yes, mydy."


    Arryk''s face was expressionless, standing straight in ce.


    Alicent sighed deeply, pressing her chest to calm her anger, and walked away.


    Taking advantage of the lull, Arryk nced slightly into the room.


    Aegon was pale and clutching his long hair jitterily.


    One didn''t have to listen specifically to hear the muttering tinged with misery.


    "How dare I marry a Hightower woman if all Hightowers are like this?" The voice held fear, as if he were about to be forced into drinking poisoned wine.


    Arryk retracted his gaze, secretly poking and prodding.


    On duty for the Queen''s service, there was no avoiding hearing a lot of news.


    Ever since the God''s Eye Lake tournament, Lord Otto had been at loggerheads with Ormund Hightower, and the two brothers had argued several times.


    In order to gain further assistance from her family, the Queen agreed to marry Prince Aegon to solidify their rtionship.


    Although the marriage partner was only a cousin, she had been adopted by Lord Ormund, who had scarce heirs.


    It was indeed more honorable than marrying the daughters of some second-tier nobles.


    Alicent walked up the stairs alone, her frustration simmering like oil on fire.


    The Narrow Sea War had ended, and the kingdom now had three more overseas city-states.


    The Hightower House had sacrificed much for this battle, and several of her children had each defended one side.


    Yet, in the end, nothing good hade of it.


    Aegon''s twin castles hadn''t materialized, which should have strengthened the roots of the outward-bound princes.


    The more powerful Rhaegar became, the more uneasy she felt.


    While her husband still sat on the Iron Throne, she needed to hold on to the benefits that were rightfully hers.


    The marriage of Aemond to the Lady of Storm��s End was no longer a concern for her.


    As long as Aegon''s marriage to Hena was properly arranged, she would be able to pull in powerful allies and strengthen her side''s power.


    At that time, even if the position of the Iron Throne changed hands, she could secure her status with the identity of the Queen and the influence of her children, distancing herself from Rhaenyra.


    Alicent rubbed her face and murmured to herself for emphasis, "Everything I do is for my family!"


    Muttering to herself as she walked, she climbed the stairs to a particr attic.


    At the entrance of the attic, a lean knight d in leather armor stood guard, his gaze grim and sharp.


    Beside him, her personal maid, Terra, waited attentively.


    Seeing her arrival, Terra stepped forward and introduced in a low voice, "This is Ser Mervyn Flowers."


    Flowers was a bastard surname of the The Reach.


    Alicent adjusted her appearance and looked him up and down with cold eyes.


    He was a young man with long, athletic limbs and calluses on his hands from holding a sword and drawing a bow.


    On the cor of his leather armor was a coat of arms in the style of "Three ck Castles on an Orange Background."


    It was from an ancient and long-established House of the Reach, known as the "Three Castles" of House Peake.


    Mervyn lowered his head and respectfully greeted, "Your Grace the Queen."


    "Uh-huh."


    Alicent responded coolly and walked into the attic with Terra pushing the door.


    She had been invited to this meeting.


    Since they were both nobles of The Reach, they had humbly consented to summon her.


    Inside the attic, the familiar decorations were in ce, and the evening breeze blew through the open screened windows.


    A young man, dressed in fancy clothes, with dark brown curly hair and a fine beard, was waiting for her.


    Alicent looked at him and frowned slightly.


    Hisplexion was yellowish, with a pair of inverted triangr eyes, and the arrogance in his eyes and his extravagant clothing emphasized his extravagance.


    "Sincere greetings from Unwin of House Peake, My Queen!"


    The young lord who called himself Unwin bowed deeply, his gesture well-rehearsed.


    Alicent raised her hand to stop Terra from closing the door, taking a dim view of the invitation from someone who appeared to be a burgeoning rich man.


    "What is your business in seeking an audience with me, Lord Peake?"


    Alicent put up a front, exuding nothing but pride.


    Unwin''s eyes gleamed with a dark cunning, though his demeanor remained sincere. "I heard that Your Grace is troubled, and I am more than willing to serve."


    Alicent''s eyes narrowed slightly; she wasn''t receiving a direct answer. "House Peake is powerful. How much sincerity do you offer?"


    She needed allies, but not just anyone would be suitable.


    Unwin smiled, self-assured. "My house has three castles, with a very rich annual output."


    He paused, adding with a hint of pride, "As a warrior houses with a long history, Imand one hundred knights and nine hundred infantrymen. If needed, I could recruit several times that number."


    While the number of infantrymen was not particrly impressive, the focus was on the one hundred knights. Knights were elite, specially trained to mount horses, bend bows, and lead soldiers effectively. A single knight could lead a hundred ordinary soldiers and easily form a substantial force.


    Alicent found his arrogance off-putting and said impatiently, "You have many castles, but how many times can castles and soldiers withstand Dragonfire?"


    House Peake was once a top powerhouse in the Rivends, but times had changed. Even with three wealthy castles, they were still only second-tier nobles, far inferior to House Hightower.


    Unwin, annoyed by her dismissal, momentarily lost his temper. He wanted to retort with something vulgar but caught himself in time, seeing the queen''s icy gaze. He took a deep breath and forced a conciliatory smile. "Your Grace, as long as you are willing, HousePeake is ready to go through fire and water for you."


    "State your purpose. I don''t have time to waste," Alicent said coolly, crossing her arms. "My husband needs my care, and angering him could see you hanged."


    Unwin suppressed his irritation and fawned, "I understand you wish to facilitate Prince Aegon''s marriage. I have a way to help."


    "Who told you that?" Alicent''s eyes narrowed.


    "With all due respect, your intentions are as clear as an ox pulling a millstone," Unwin replied bluntly.


    Alicent signaled him to continue without furtherment.


    Unwin chuckled, "My father used to say that a disobedient child needs a lesson, and proper means must be applied."


    Alicent looked skeptical.


    Unwin coughed lightly and adopted a more sophisticated tone. "Your Grace, I have recently made a new friend in Vntis who has acquired potions from Lys��s Pleasure Houses."


    The mention of such harsh methods instantly chilled Alicent''s expression. She felt offended by the implication and looked at Unwin with renewed disdain.


    "Hold your horses," Unwin hastily exined. "Prince Aegon may be immature, but he still has feelings for that girl. He just needs a little push."


    "A push?" Alicent queried.


    "Exactly!" Unwin pressed on. "If the girl is willing, leave this matter to me. I will ensure a satisfactory oue."


    Alicent pondered deeply. Since it was a marriage proposal, she assumed her niece would bepliant. However, she suspected the methods proposed by Unwin would be less than honorable.


    Seeing Alicent''s hesitation, Unwin added, "Lord Tyrell of Highgarden is loyal to the Heir Prince. Half the nobles of the The Reach follow his lead. There''s no better marriage partner."


    Alicent couldn''t help but fidget, picking at her nails in thought. Unwin''s argument held weight. Rhaegar''s prestige was immense, with loyalty from the Crownds, the Rivends, the Vale, and the Reach. After the Narrow Sea War, his influence would only grow.


    Even the House Beesbury of Honeyholt, direct bannermen to House Hightower, were leaning towards Rhaegar.


    Alicent considered this carefully before asking, "What do you want after this is aplished?"


    She assumed House Peake were opportunists, seeking to align with the Green Faction. House Peake''s key castle, Starpike, was in the Dornish bordends. Her son, Aemond, could be a significant help in the ongoing Dornish Rebellion.


    Unexpectedly, Unwin shook his head, revealing his true intentions. "My wife diedst year, and I heard that Princess Hena is not yet engaged...."


    He trailed off, but the implication was clear.


    Alicent''s eyes snapped open in surprise. Hena was her heart. The idea of her marrying a man like Unwin, with his rural manners and cunning schemes, filled her with difort.


    Without hesitation, she spoke firmly, "Hena will choose a husband she is satisfied with. I will not force my daughter."


    "I am sincere in my desire to marry the princess. Please give me a chance to prove my loyalty," Unwin pleaded.


    Alicent, full of resistance, turned away. "I will organize a banquet on Maiden''s Day. You can attend and participate."


    The so-called exhibition banquet was actually a matchmaking event for Aegon and Hena. Nobles would present their children of the right age to meet the prince and princess separately.


    Unwin might stand a chance in a crowd of young suitors, but Alicent was firm. "Terra, let''s go," she said, signaling to her maid.


    As she exited, Unwin''s face was filled with frustration and urgency.

 Chapter 401: Matchmaking Meeting

    Chapter 401: Matchmaking Meeting


    A few dayster, a warm morning sun shone brightly over King''s Landing, casting its usual sultry glow.


    Today, the city was abuzz with activity as people dressed in their finest emerged from their homes. The poor flocked in groups to nondescript church buildings, while the nobles and their families headed straight for the city''s fewrge churches. It was the annual Maiden''s Day, a celebration that, though primarily for young virgins, drew countless followers of the Seven Gods in sincere prayer.


    The kingdom was still basking in the victory of the Narrow Sea War after defeating the Triarchy. In a gesture of generosity, King Viserys dedicated the day to the Heir Prince''s unborn twins by distributing porridge to the people in the streets and alleys. Anyone who did not have enough to eat could receive a portion of the thick gruel with white bread upon presentation of a residence permit issued by the City Watch.


    Although the poor did not fully grasp the significance of the residency card, treating it as an ordinary piece of solid wood, the distribution of gruel went off without a hitch. Long lines formed in every street, and the people who received the food expressed their gratitude to the benevolent king and showered blessings on the heir prince''s unborn children.


    For a time, the reputation of the royal family overshadowed even the importance of the Seven Gods. After all, white porridge was better than brown soup, and white bread was tastier than suspicious meat soup.


    The Red Keep


    In the morning, crowds of guests from all over the realm streamed into the Red Keep, handing their daughters over to the septas who would lead them to the sanctuary at the rear of Maegor''s Holdfast for baptism by the Mother and the Maiden.


    The influx of guests made it difficult to find amodations within the Red Keep. Fortunately, the morning temperature was moderate, preventing any incidents of heatstroke. The hustle and bustle continued until the sun was high and the essential rituals of the festival werepleted.


    Throne Hall


    In the Throne Hall, hundreds of noble lords stood on the cool ck stone floor, eagerly leading their sons and nephews around. Their eyes were fixed on the high Iron Throne. Viserys, dressed in solemn ck coronation robes and wearing a golden crown, held the house sword, ckfyre, with its tip resting on the floor.


    At the base of the throne, the Sea Snake Corlys, his face grave, acted as the king''s spokesman. After a few introductory words, the drums beat intensely, and two Kingsguard led the procession.


    Rhaegar entered the hall with aposed demeanor, walking slowly with his hands raised.


    "Prince ......"


    "Prince ......"


    As he walked down the hall''s aisles, many familiar noble lords greeted him in whispers, their attitudes ten thousand times more respectful. Rhaegar nodded gently, his emotions well-controlled.


    A step behind him, Hena and Daeron nked him on either side. Hena, beautifully dressed with her long silver-gold hair coiled behind her head and wearing a gorgeous white gown, looked especially extravagant for the asion.


    Her headdresses, nes, and various trinkets were adorned with symbols from the Targaryen and the seven kingdoms'' house emblems.


    Despite her stunning appearance, Hena''s face showed difort and her violet eyes shed with anxiety. For a girl with an introverted personality, being thrust into such a grand asion was intimidating.


    "Are you alright?" Rhaegar asked, ncing sideways and noting her mood.


    Hena hesitated for a moment before weakly replying, "I kind of want to go crazy."


    Rhaegar paused, ck lines forming on his forehead. "Don''t worry, it''s just a passing phase."


    Hena buried her head in her not-so-rich chest and murmured like a mosquito, "I''m afraid I can''t control it, and I want to bring Dreamfyre."


    "Never," Rhaegar said, his tone gentle but firm. "There''s no need to force yourself. Rhaenyra had already started touring the continent at your age, rejecting many noblemen in the seven kingdoms."


    It was hard to imagine the timid girl threatening to unleash a giant dragon in her helpless tone. Unfortunately, her introverted nature made her less calm in stressful situations, unlike Rhaenyra''s strong character, who grew up as an only child.


    Rhaenyra''s forced marriage was infamous throughout the seven kingdoms. She had rejected many suitors, including Lannister''s Jason, almost leading to a duel between brothers Tyran and Jason.


    She caused the duel between Samwell ckwood and the former Lord Bracken, causing his death, as he had been stabbed to death by Samwell, and publicly humiliated the former Lord of ckport, who was in his sixties and had attempted to marry her.


    To this day, the nobles of the Stornds still joked about those incidents. Rhaegar admired such fighting spirit.


    Rhaegar gently reassured Hena before stepping forward to the Iron Throne. He nodded at his father, who was seated above, then moved to stand beside the Sea Snake, his arms folded. Hena curtsied and stood on the opposite side, holding little Daeron''s hand.


    With everyone in ce, Viserys forced a not-so-sincere smile and dered, "Let''s begin!"


    At hismand, nobles stepped out of line, either alone or apanied by their nephews, to pay their respects. Most of these suitors were unmarried and of suitable age, but there were also a few widowers hoping to win the princess''s favor.


    Hena stood still, pursing her lips, her patience wearing thin as she scrutinized each man. They ranged from middle-aged men in theirte thirties to young teens. Some were even older, in their forties and fifties, stepping forward to introduce themselves as widowed and unmarried. The sweltering heat only added to Hena''s difort, and she nearly broke out in a cold sweat.


    Unconsciously, she let go of little Daeron''s hand, her lotus-like arm turning a silver-gray bracelet on her wrist. The bracelet, though ordinary in material, was intricately carved and showed signs of age. It was also slightly tight, a testament to its inappropriate size for her slender wrist. A nce sideways revealed that Rhaegar wore a simr bracelet on his wrist, which was sped behind his back.


    "Bear with it," Hena admonished herself silently, trying to maintain herposure.


    Just then, a middle-aged man with a naive smile and blonde hair stepped forward, greeting them sincerely, "Your Grace, House Rowan sends you their sincere greetings."


    On his yellowish robe, he bore the House emblem of "a golden tree on a white background." House Rowan of Goldengrove was one of the most important noble families in the Rivends, with a lineage tracing back to Garth Greenhand. Their fiefdom epassed the entire northern Bands, making them quite powerful.


    Viserys looked over, his face lighting up with a smile, "Lord Thaddeus, I''m d to see you today."


    Thaddeus Rowan, a cheerful and generous nobleman, was well-liked and respected in the Rivends. His wife had passed away a few years ago, leaving him a bachelor. Remembering Alicent''s advice, Viserys steeled himself for more conversation with Thaddeus.


    At the bottom of the hall, Rhaegar and Corlys stood like statues, watching silently. Corlys nced twice at Thaddeus, his voice dull, "I bet he''ll go bald in less than two years."


    "Lord Thaddeus is a good man, loyal to the crown," Rhaegar reasoned, then whispered, "His eldest son would have had a chance if he hadn''t married already."


    Hena was only thirteen, and Thaddeus was old enough to be her father, if not older.


    Corlys, disdainful, remarked, "If I had known this day woulde, I should have facilitated the marriage between Laenor and Princess Hena."


    When the marriage with Rhaenyra had first fallen through, the royal family had strongly opposed another marriage with Vryon. Now it seemed they might have to fight for it again.


    Rhaegar, displeased, taunted, "I won''t marry my sister to an old man, nor will I let her be widowed."


    Corlys, self-confident, ndly said, "Wait and see what kind of handsome person the queen can pick out from her nned event."


    Rhaegar fell silent. He thought Alicent''s actions were foolish and driven by a misguided desire for power. Despite their four children already being Dragonriders and their position seemingly unbreakable, she continued to covet more, plotting for her so-called Green Faction.


    "Isn''t it good to live well and be united as a family?" Rhaegar nced at the kitten-like Hena, shaking his head in secret dismay. Alicent''s status and role as a mother had saved her, but her ambitions were tearing the family apart.


    ...


    In the Banquet Hall, a simr scene unfolds as female guests converge.


    Aegon, dressed in his finery, sits slumped in a spacious seat. His face is disheveled, and he buries his head in depression. Alicent, in another corner of the hall, does not step forward to entertain the guests. Instead, Rhaenyra and Laena are invited to sit on the soft cushions on the left and right sides.


    "Princess," a noble girl of the Lords of the Rivends greets softly, then retreats again with the hem of her skirt.


    "May the Maiden and Mother bless you," Rhaenyra says, stroking her stomach and smiling.


    After meeting a dozen maidens in a row, it is inevitable that Rhaenyra feels a bit tired. Her beautiful eyes roll as she leans back calmly against the soft cushion, striking afortable pose. She had been unwilling to attend, unable to resist her father''s repeated requests. It was unknown what kind of persuasion Alicent had used on him.


    Laena softly inquires, "Rhaenyra, if you''re not feeling well, go back and rest first."


    Rhaenyra waves her hand, "It''s fine, you can''t do it halfway."


    After saying that, she turns her head to look at Aegon, "After picking for so long, do you have a favorable match?"


    There was a time when it was others who were looking for her. Finally, the tables had turned.


    Aegon droops his eyelids and mutters, "I''m grieving, and even the most beautiful beauty can''t catch my eye."


    There were so many women of the right age who came to meet him that he was actually getting tired of picking them out. Not only did he have his eyes on a few tall girls from the western and northern realms, but he also noticed their mature and plump mothers.


    If it wasn''t for the wrong asion, he would have wanted to strike up a conversation or two.


    However, when he thinks of his mother''s tough attitude towards him, Aegon feels a rebellious surge bubbling up inside him.


    "I won''t choose any of them, let''s see if you have the guts to beat me to death!" Aegon thinks indignantly.


    Receiving Alicent''s rigid education from a young age has left a great shadow on Aegon''s young mind, which aspires for freedom and rebellion. He would rather marry amoner or a whore than a Hightower. No matter the pressure, he is determined to resist.


    ...


    In the noisy hall, the warbling ofdies mixed with the chatter of gossip.


    Waiters served drinks and an abundance of ice.


    As the day wore on, male guests began to appear, and the band yed cheerful tunes.


    Lyonel sat at a table, keeping an eye on the party.


    "You really should try this plum cake. Don''t be so tense all the time," said Lyman, who held a te of pastries, tasting them slowly and methodically.


    Lyonel held up his ss and smiled bitterly, "The war isn''t over yet, and the banquet seems a little too grand."


    "Think about it," Lyman shook his head, reminiscing about the past. "It''s all for the sake of the royal bloodline."


    Lyonel nodded, his heart feeling lighter as he looked around the room.


    Otto was at another table, deep in conversation with Ormund Hightower.


    His eldest son, Harwin, sat alone in a corner of the banquet, with a wooden board wrapped around his leg to hold it in ce.


    None of them had traveled to the Throne Hall, instead choosing to oversee the more chaotic banquet hall.


    Harwin approached with a pout.


    "You should be recuperating," Lyonel said.


    "The City Watch is used to staying in the city," Harwin frowned deeply and leaned down. "Recently, Flea Bottom has been quite active. A lot of gold cloaks have resigned from their positions for no apparent reason."

 Chapter 402: How to Give Someone Drugs

    Chapter 402: How to Give Someone Drugs


    Flea Bottom was known far and wide as a slum.


    It was a frequent site of riots, especially during the daylight hours, that rocked King''s Landing.


    Most of the City Watch''s resources were devoted to policing Flea Bottom.


    Lyonel, experienced and perceptive, immediately thought of the problem: "Just keep order. Daemon has overrun Tyrosh and he''s moving his minions."


    "Prince Daemon?" Harwin frowned, something in his heart resisting.


    Lyonel said lightly, "Although you are themander of the City Watch, most gold cloaks are loyal to Daemon."


    Harwin was speechless and drank mulled wine.


    Daemon was known as the "Prince of the Capital" and "Lord of Flea Bottom" during the king''s reign. During his tenure, he rmended raising the equipment and funding for two thousand gold cloaks. Even after many years, it''s normal for him to still have old subordinates he can''t forget.


    Lyonel patted his eldest son''s shoulder and said in an enlightened manner, "Think positively. The departure of these double-minded individuals will reduce many hidden dangers."


    "I will find a chance to report this to His Grace," Harwin muffled his voice.


    "As you wish, but take care of your injuries," Lyonel admonished with concern.


    Not far from the God''s Eye Lake Competition, Harwin''s injuries from being cut by a battle axe had just begun to heal, allowing him to walk again. However, even if he could no longer oversee the City Watch with the same assurance, he shouldn''t rush to resume his duties.


    After a few words of persuasion, Lyonel was called away by Lyman to find some old friends to drink with.


    Before leaving, Lyonel warned in a low voice, "There are so many noble girls present; don''t say you can''t find one that catches your eye!"


    After saying that, he walked away with his chest held high.


    Harwin froze in his seat, his face deeply embarrassed.


    Subconsciously, he looked back towards the most lively direction. Through theyers of curtains, he could only see the silhouettes of the young girls gathered around.


    Cautiously ncing at it, he saw nothing clearly.


    Harwin sighed deeply and disappointedly knocked on his injured leg tied with a wooden board.


    Suddenly, a figure burst into view.


    The House crest on his chest was three ck castles on an orange background.


    Behind a tableden with fruit and wine, Unwin Peake hooked up with a manservant. Unwin Peake and the manservant were carrying jugs of chilled silver wine.


    With a cunning smile, Unwin shoved the jug into the manservant''s hand and whispered, "The Queen''s order, deliver it."


    The manservant, still young and holding the wine pot with difficulty, had legs trembling slightly.


    Seeing his hesitation, Unwin lost his smile and pulled out a handful of golden dragons from his pocket.


    "Yes, my lord."


    The manservant''s spirit lifted and he set off majestically.


    Not far away, Harwin watched cryptically and left his seat to follow.


    As themander of the City Watch, he had developed an eye for spotting criminals.


    The feast reached its climax, with musicians ying cheerful tunes. Drummers paraded through the hall as if on parade, their drumming dense and urgent.


    Maids poured into the hall, bringing all manner of rich delicacies.


    Aegon''s stomach growled with hunger and he pushed aside the attendants, intent on finding something to eat.


    Rhaenyra and Laena looked at each other and rose without a second thought. It was noon, and they were going to take a break.


    "Give me some cherry pie, and some gin!" Aegon broke away from the perfumed nest and grabbed a maid to make his request.


    The maid cowered in fear, thinking that the ever-lustful prince was wolfish.


    At that moment, the manservant approached with a tray in hand, holding several sses of frosty wine.


    Aegon''s mouth was dry and he picked up a ss without thinking.


    "Wait!"


    Harwin came out of nowhere, stopping him in his tracks.


    Without waiting for Aegon to respond, he grabbed the manservant by the shoulders and said in a deep voice, "What''s in the wine?"


    "Nothing."


    The manservant arched his back and answered carefully.


    Aegon froze, holding up the wine for a moment, not knowing whether to drink or not.


    Something was wrong!


    Harwin took a ss of wine and shoved it at the manservant, saying warily, "You drink!"


    The three gathered around a table, purposely keeping their voices down and thus drawing no attention from onlookers.


    Aegon''s eyes widened as he looked back and forth between the wine and the manservant.


    To poison him?


    Gulp~~


    The manservant, trembling with fear and trembling, picked up the wine and drank it in one gulp, saying with a goaded and soft voice, "It really is wine, my lord."


    Since it was the Queen''s intention, surely it wouldn''t be poisoned.


    Still unconvinced, Harwin controlled the manservant and waited for a while, and the other man remained alive and well.


    Before the two could speak, Aegon could not help himself. Holding up the wine goblet and pouring arge mouthful, "Che" said: " Nonsense, the wine''s not even cold."


    "Prince..."


    Harwin jumped in shock and tried to stop him, but it was toote.


    Aegon rolled his eyes and stood back.


    "Aegon, watch your image!"


    Otto came from the sidelines, urging with a disconcerted look on his face.


    Harwin''s eyes shed as he picked up a ss of wine and stepped back.


    Otto nodded at the punch and picked up thest ss of wine and took a sip. As the wine went into his stomach, he didn''t forget to open his mouth to lecture, "Drink less wine and don''t face thedy drunk."


    "Aye." Aegon''s voice lengthened.


    Otto red at him and left with his ss of wine.


    Harwin looked confused and hesitantly took a sip of wine as well.


    "Commander Goldcloak, why aren''t you on patrol?" Aegon looked him up and down, his tone slightly sarcastic.


    He remembered the other man being nearly crippled by a few of Rhaegar''s axe blows.


    Harwin''s face darkened, "The Golden Cloak patrols at all times, and Prince Rhaegar specifically instructed me to do so."


    "There is no point in that."


    Aegon yanked over a passing maid, snatched the tray of seven-gill eel pie, and sliced off a slice to feast on. To show his generosity, he also shared a piece with Harwin.


    In the face of the food, Harwin hesitated for a moment or two and took it and ate it. Seven-gill eel pie was expensive, and there weren''t many opportunities to savor it except in coastal cities.


    Aegon frantically ate, drinking up the slightly cooled wine and continuing to scavenge for other delicacies.


    Harwin, confused, spared the restrained manservant and headed toward the other end. Secretly, it was a wasted effort.


    ...


    The Queen''s Bedchamber.


    Alicent waits anxiously until the door to the room is pushed open from the outside. Hena walks in silently, her brow unable to hide the color of exhaustion.


    "Did you choose?" Alicent asks directly.


    Hena takes off her heavy headdress without raising her head. "You instructed me to choose my fianc��, not to buy food at the market."


    "Don''t treat that group of adults as green horns; you need to take it seriously," Alicent counsels patiently.


    Helena kicks off her shoes and copses limply on the felt, saying helplessly, "What''s the difference? Freshness, high price, andck of variety, both in the same condition."


    Standing motionless in the Throne Hall all morning was physically and mentally exhausting. Whenever she felt like going crazy, she couldn''t help but think of Rhaenyra.


    It was hard to imagine how Rhaenyra had survived the half year parade of "blind dates". All she could say was that Rhaenyra was indeed a woman who could control her brother!


    Listening to her daughter associate marriage with grocery shopping, Alicent almost choked with frustration. On second thought, there is some truth to that.


    Alicent purses her lips, unable to help thinking of her husband as king. Back in the day, fresh was not so fresh, but it was better because of the high price and scarcity of variety. Although she didn''t think it was her kind of dish, under her father''s orders, she had to change her tastes.


    Unable to help it, Alicent''s mood calms considerably, and she looks at her daughter, whose eyes are devoid of light, with pity. She walks to the side and sits down, taking Hena''s hand, and whispers, "I do not want to force you, but you always have to marry."


    "But I don''t like those men. They''re like worms in a jar to me," Hena covers her eyes with one hand, sounding very disheartened.


    "Who do you like?!" Alicent nces warily at the door and lowers her voice to chide, "Don''t think I don''t know what''s on your mind, and unless I die someday, don''t you dare!"


    Hena rolls over, seeming a little pleased, "I thought you never cared what I thought."


    "Don''t be ridiculous. You''re my only daughter," Alicent gives her an exasperated swat and says seriously, "Listen to me, that''s not a good choice. Rhaenyra will sell you to the lowest brothel!"


    Hena slumps to the floor, both her little legs crossed, "If I can be sessful, then I won''t fall to this point."


    Seeing her daughter''s insistence, Alicent is furious, "You should find a husband who is true to you."


    "But you still chose my father," Hena''s eyes twinkle.


    "It was the only choice."


    "Many say that, but they continue to benefit anyway."


    Alicent is at a loss for words. Gritting her back teeth, she gets up and leaves, saying, "Come back in the afternoon, don''t waste the holiday."


    Bang - she pushes the door open and ms it shut.


    Inside the bedchamber, Hena, who had won the argument, is left alone. The little girl is quiet for a moment, removes her messy ornaments, and rolls over again, lying on her back.


    Holding both small hands high in the air, she twirls the silver and gray bracelet. Eyes drifting out of focus, she mutters, "Men without dragons are like flies in summer, plentiful and annoying."


    Targaryens had their own way of dealing with the world!


    ...


    The sun was scorching in thete afternoon.


    Banquet halls were still bustling with noble men and women who had yet to find a match. In the Godswood, servants built shade cloths and set up another banquet space.


    Rhaenyra, too pregnant to attend in the sunlight, rested in her bedroom with Laena apanying her. Alicent, however, took it upon herself to press the reluctant Aegon into a chair, and together they faced the noble maidens who hade for courtship.


    The girls, slightly formal at the sight of the Queen, mingled briefly before excusing themselves. Alicent was not satisfied and called upon her niece, Selene Hightower, to act as a temporarydy-in-waiting, essentially reminding Aegon to make a choice soon.


    Aegon, having skipped his nap and now drinking cold wine, leaned back in his chair listlessly. At this moment, it was as if he was a king was admiring a wonderful young girl, picking and smacking his lips, very much in the manner of a dim king.


    Beneath the Godswood, swirling red leaves blocked the sunlight and shrouded arge patch of shade. Rhaegar leaned against the flowery white trunk and watched with interest.


    Ormund Hightower staggered over to him, a wine ss in one hand. "It''s a scorching hot day, wouldn''t you like a cup of the Arbor''s fine wine?" he said, kindly handing him a wine cup.


    Rhaegar squinted and refused, "True dragons aren''t afraid of heat."


    Ormund froze for a moment and smacked his lips, "I forgot about that, the Targaryens are truly the bloodline of the God''s Favorites."


    After a moment of thought, Ormund looked over to Aegon''s ce and smiled, "What a fine, youthful boy." He had looked up to Aegon since he was a child and loved him more than Otto, his own grandfather.


    Rhaegar frowned slightly, feeling offended, "Lord Ormund, I am the same age as him."


    "Uh..." Ormund almost didn''t react and smiled resentfully, "me your brilliance, forgive me for not being able topare you to Aegon side by side."


    The conversation turned, "You are concerned about your brother''s marriage, what a good brother."


    Rhaegar didn''t take it that way and said breathlessly, "You''re overthinking it. I''m simply curious if Aegon will embarrass himself."


    If he made a fool of himself, he would have to clean up the mess.


    Not wanting to bother with the chattering Ormund, Rhaegar got up and headed out, "I''m going to check on Hena. You guys keep an eye on Aegon for me."


    Compared to Aegon''s nature, he was more worried about Hena''s emotional stability. He didn''t want her to actually release Dreamfyre!

 Chapter 403: The Strange Uncle Who Lures Little Girls

    Chapter 403: The Strange Uncle Who Lures Little Girls


    Godswood Forest, Backyard Garden.


    Lush grass grew, towering pines and cypresses lined up in rows, dotted with giant dragon statues and fountains. An adjoining awning was built over therge open space. Noble men who had not yet met their match congregated in groups of three or two, discussing interesting facts.


    Under thergest awning, Viserys looked around and asked, "Where did Hena go?"


    "The princess is probably still getting ready," Corlys replied curtly, gathered around a tub of ice.


    Viserys frowned in displeasure, "Beingte is not a good habit."


    Corlys scooped up a handful of ice and crushed it with his hands, feeling the coldness fully, and said sincerely, "Your Grace, if I had let you choose a treasure from a pile of scrap, you would havee eventer."


    With that, he rubbed some of the ice shavings into the wine and took small sips, immersing himself in the moment.


    He didn''t have the Targaryen bloodline to be fearless in the searing heat. The coolness rushed to his head and Corlys took a cool breath, "There''s nothing like a sip of chilled Summer Red in the height of summer!"


    Viserys took a couple more looks and was rather fleshed out, "With the Dornish War on, Summer Red is really hard to buy."


    "Rx, the dragons will clear the way for you," Corlys said confidently. His eldest son ran to the Stornds battlefield, and the two dragons and the entire Stornds force were more than enough to deal with the invading Dornish army.


    The reason for the Dornish tenacity was the scorching desert environment. Within the Vulture Mountains and Dornish territory, the soldiers of several other realms in Westeros might not be able to exert their strength.


    Once Dorne lost the familiar living environment since childhood, it would be like a sharking ashore, and it would be difficult to hurt people with a just bad mouth again.


    Viserys shook his head and lost his smile, "Haven''t you always been cautious and valued war above all else?"


    "It''s the unknown war that''s scary, the war that predicts the oue is as simple as reading the weather for sailing," Corlys said with an expression of deservedness. The thought of the Triarchy''s Kingdom breaking up greatly reassured Viserys, and a wave of bravado rose from his heart.


    Looking around, he called his attendant andmanded, "Go get Hena and bring her here, don''t make the adults wait."


    Corlys nced away and continued to grind the ice. Seeing hisck of response, Viserys grumbled bitterly, "If only there was a time when I didn''t have to worry about my children."


    "His Grace Jaehaerys spent his life worrying about his children, and that is probably a Targaryen tradition as well," Corlys teased, saying meaningfully, "and the more you worry, the less likely you are to see a good oue."


    Viserys froze at his words, not knowing how to respond. As Corlys pointed out, he thought coldly of the aunts who had died. None of them seemed to have ended well.


    Viserys thought in his heart and couldn''t help but shout, "Get Hena and tell her toe to her father."


    He hadn''t approved of holding the so-called Maiden''s Day Festival in the first ce. Aegon was a man, and it was sufficient to pick a great noble family to marry. Hena was a girl and too young, so why worry so much about her marriage?


    ...


    Not far away, by a fountain in the forest, Hena sat on the stone steps, cupping a purple flower in her hand and picking off petals.


    As she moved, she chanted softly, "The mirror shines on the opposite side..."


    Tap... tap...


    The sound of footsteps broke the tranquil atmosphere. Hena snapped back to her senses, turning her head to see who had disturbed her. La and Jasmine, her twopanions, stood protectively in front of a dark-haired man.


    With an embarrassed look on his face, Unwin carefully exined, "I''m here to see the Princess, no offense intended."


    Tiptoeing to catch Hena''s attention, a sh of determination crossed his face.


    Hena rubbed her bare neck and whispered, "A bridge awaits you..."


    Under the defense of herpanions, Unwin stood ten meters away from the fountain, eagerly saying, "Princess, please aloow me to chat with you for a few moments."


    In the morning, the summons from the Throne Hall had not reached him. Now, finding the princess alone felt like a godsend. The best way to deal with a young girl like this, besides coercion, was to trick her.


    Hena lifted the spring water with her hand and faintly said, "Say what you want to say."


    Unwin seized the opportunity, pretending to be a gentleman, "Princess, I am the Lord of the House Peake..."


    He introduced himself, subtly boasting of his wealth. Hena remained unmoved, her attention on the fish in the spring.


    Feeling neglected, Unwin tried to maintain hisposure. He knew that nobledies often fell for gentlemen. Kneeling on one knee, he said, "Once I saw you in Harrenhal, I was haunted by you and traveled thousands of miles to King''s Landing to see you again."


    Hena''s face remained serious, "You got your wish, congrattions."


    Unwin was momentarily speechless, then changed the topic, "Princess, the king and queen are worried about your marriage. I dare to propose to you, hoping to gain your favor."


    Hena sighed and said despondently, "Lord Unwin, you have poor looks and very lofty dreams."


    "I am sincere," Unwin insisted, thinking he needed to offer more. Gritting his teeth, he said, "As long as you are willing to marry me, I can give you one of the three castles of my family."


    The House Peake, prominent in The Reach, had daughters married to powerful nobles like Redwyne, Rowan, and Hightower. Their cunning behavior and three castles were the foundation of their family''s influence.


    Hena fluttered her eyshes and began counting on her fingers, "One for me, one for Aemond, one for Daeron..."


    "Princess, what are you talking about?" Unwin asked, his eyes widening with confusion.


    Hena shook her head, "Nothing, I was just wondering which castle truly belongs to your family."


    The so-called Three Castles of the House Peake seemed glorious, but behind the scenes, there was no shortage of nastiness. Initially, the House Peake only had one castle, Starpike in the Dornish Bordends.


    About a thousand years ago, the Gardener House of the King of The Reach conquered the region and defeated the disobedient House Manderly. After the war, House Manderly was driven out of The Reach, losing their fort along the Mander River��Dunstonbury. This castle was then taken over by their nemesis, the House Peake.


    Later, House Manderly went into exile in the remote North and built what is now White Harbor, modeled after Dunstonbury. This was the second castle acquired by the House Peake.


    The third castle, Whitegrove, has a more obscure history. ording to ancient noble tales from the Rivends, a certain generation of the original house of Whitegrovecked a male heir, and the title andnd were inherited by a woman.


    The then Lord of Starpike married into the family and used his heir''s right to the title to take over Whitegrove. The trickery of the grandparentsid the foundation for the apparent glory of the House Peake.


    Facing these allusions to his ancestors'' shady dealings, Unwin held back his anger and said with a forced smile, "Princess, if one castle isn''t enough, I can offer you both castles except Starpike."


    From recent news, it was known that while the ck and Green factions were at peace, the Heir Prince and Princess Rhaenyra had ongoing friction with for time to time.


    The Heir Prince, Rhaegar, had session rights to the Iron Throne and owned Harrenhal Castle and the unfinished Prince''s Pce. Princess Rhaenyra, as the heir to the Iron Throne, had Targaryennds on Dragonstone.


    With the Triarchy conquered, Myr and Lys fell into Rhaegar''s hands. In contrast, on the Greens'' side, only Prince Aegon owned a twin castle far away in the Stepstones Inds.


    Offering two castles was a bold move, and Unwin didn''t believe a little girl could remain indifferent to such an offer.


    "Two castles?" Hena said, surprised. She hadn''t expected him to be so generous.


    Unwin nodded eagerly, "As long as you agree to marry me, the two castles will be yours."


    Pretty words spoken beautifully. If there were heirs, he could take back the castles with his family name, just as his ancestors had done.


    And he would have married a true Targaryen princess. Not to mention the benefits of being a royal son-inw and the potential of having children with Targaryen blood, who might have the talent to be dragon riders. This was something the Sea Snake Corlys had long set as a good example.


    Just as Unwin was feeling smug, envisioning his scheming sess, Hena simply refused, "The castle is indeed very generous, but you do not have a dragon."


    "If you marry me, Princess, our descendants will have dragons!" Unwin blurted out, not paying attention.


    Hena cocked her head and said directly, "So, your n is to obtain dragons through me?"


    Caught off guard by her bluntness, Unwin became infuriated and stood up abruptly, "Princess, the Queen needs allies. No one in all of Westeros dares to ally with you. Marrying me is the right choice."


    "Why does my mother need allies?" Hena''s eyes gleamed with curiosity.


    Unwin said bluntly, "Of course, it''s to fight against Prince Rhaegar. Otherwise, when the king passes away, what kind of life will you have?"


    "My brother," Hena whispered to herself, slightly out of her mind. "So you all have such ridiculous ideas."


    Through their conversation, she had already surmised that Unwin was acquainted with her mother. Considering Ormund Hightower''s cousin Selene for Aegon, she couldn''t help but suspect that Unwin was the one her mother had chosen for her own hand in marriage.


    "Because of these unfounded hypotheses?" Hena''s fine eyebrows furrowed slightly.


    Unwin, still trying to persuade her, said, "I work for the Queen, and she promised to give me a chance to marry you."


    "I don''t believe it!" Hena screamed loudly, retorting, "Mother''s vision can''t be that bad."


    With her chest and belly heaving up and down, Hena set her jaw and said coldly, "You wait here. I''ll be back soon."


    Leaving behind her two worried femalepanions, she walked away with big strides.


    Unwin was taken aback and tried to follow, but was stopped by La and Jasmine, who were ring at him.


    ...


    Hena''s steps were fast and furious as she returned to Maegor''s Holdfast and headed straight for her bedroom.


    For some reason, her mind was unusually clear. Certain that Lord Peake was up to no good and was lying about his intentions.


    So...


    Bang!


    As soon as she pushed open the door to her room, Hena walked straight to the balcony and took down the longsword, Long Summer, hanging on the wall.


    With a swift motion, she unsheathed the sword, revealing an awe-inspiring cold light.


    Hena''s expression was serious as she muttered, "If I can''t call Dreamfyre, then I''ll just cut him down!"

 Chapter 404: The Dragon Has Three Heads!

    Chapter 404: The Dragon Has Three Heads!


    Rhaegar found the dense garden of pines and cypresses and bumped into Hena, who seemed to be searching for something.


    "Hena, is something wrong?" Rhaegar greeted her casually.


    Hena''s face was tense and she seemed distracted. She stopped and looked over with dull eyes.


    Rhaegar''s gaze shifted downward and he noticed Long Summer, the sword, in her arms. "Uh huh?" he said, sensing trouble.


    Hena hesitated for a second and quickly responded, "No, brother," trying to hide the sword behind her.


    Rhaegar stepped forward, gently rubbing her head, and questioned, "You��re not very good at lying, are you?"


    Hena blushed and hung her head in disappointment, muttering to herself, "The guy who doesn''t keep his word, he actually ran away."


    Seeing her distressed, Rhaegar softened his tone, "Did someone bother you?"


    The Red Keep was crowded with all kinds of people, and he had just instructed the Kingsguard to maintain order.


    "No," Hena replied, her eyes filled with timidity as she shook her head. Admitting she wanted to hack someone to death was not verydylike and could exacerbate the conflict between her mother and brother.


    Their mother had raised four children, and they couldn''t betray her. Therefore, it was important to avoid a split.


    "It better be," Rhaegar said, respecting her reluctance to say more. "But don''t keep things to yourself. Tell someone if something happens."


    Hena nodded vigorously, her delicate hairpiece crooked.


    "Going back to rest?" Rhaegar asked, ncing at the sword. It wasn''t something to pull out lightly.


    Hena agreed wholeheartedly, taking her brother''s hand and heading back. Bouncing along the way, she grinned, not looking like the fierce and powerful look she had been moments before.


    ...


    Returning to her bedroom, Hena hung the sword, Long Summer, back on the wall. She nced at Rhaegar, who stood in the doorway, and shook her head sadly. Long Summer had yet to prove useful in her hands. She had wanted to get rid of a pest and avoid the afternoon''s events.


    Thinking of another afternoon of trouble, Hena murmured regretfully, "A good sword never falls into the hands of a good swordsman."


    Knock knock!


    A knock sounded at the open door, and a maid arrived, sweat glistening on her forehead. Rhaegar staggered slightly and looked at Hena.


    Hena, sensing his presence, turned to the maid and asked, "Terra, is something wrong?"


    Terra, the queen''s personal maid, smiled and said, "Princess, both the king and queen are looking for you."


    Hena stared straight at Rhaegar and said softly, "Please tell them that I don''t want to attend the afternoon banquet."


    She admitted shecked Rhaenyra''s patience. Facing that group of faceless adults again felt unbearable.


    Terra''s smile faltered, and she discreetly nced at the Heir Prince, whispering, "It is the Queen''s order."


    Rhaegar felt helpless, caught between his sister and the queen. Though he didn''t want his sister married off hastily, hecked the authority to defy their father''s and Alicent''s decisions.


    Hena remained defiant, "I''m not going to follow orders. She''s wasting her time."


    "Princess," Terra said, startled.


    Hena turned away and looked out the window at the bustling scene below, finding it noisy and unappealing. She didn''t care about finding a nominal fianc�� for political reasons. Born into royalty, enjoying the honorary position of princess at the height of Targaryen''s prosperity, she saw no reason to submit.


    With the princess ignoring her, Terra was at a loss and looked to the Heir Prince for help. She couldn''t return without a solution.


    Rhaegar said, "Go back and tell Alicent that I will persuade Hena."


    "Thank you," Terra said, relieved, and hurriedly left.


    Gazing at the maid''s retreating figure, Rhaegar left the door of the room open and pondered. If he remembered correctly, this maid named Terra was actually a spy. Larys had investigated her background but hadn''t had time to report it to Alicent. Instead, it was Tormund who benefited from the information.


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but smile,menting, "The huge Red Keep really has all kinds of snakes and rats."


    After the banquet, it would be time to send Rhaenyra back to Dragonstone Ind. The castle where he had grown up had long since failed to shield him from the storm, and it was far less reassuring than the irond security of Dragonstone Ind.


    ...


    "Brother!"


    Suddenly, Hena''s sharp cry echoed through the room. Rhaegar turned his head and saw a determined little girl marching towards him.


    Hena clenched her teeth and stormed forward, mming the door shut behind her with a bang. The door nearly hit Rhaegar in the face, causing him to step back. To avoid any suspicion, he hadn''t entered the room and instead kept guarding the door.


    Now, the little girl was furious.


    Hena leaned against the door and said firmly, "I refuse. You don''t need to persuade me."


    Her freckled face bore a seriousness Rhaegar had rarely seen, as if her expression alone conveyed the gravity of her attitude.


    Sensing her strange resolve, Rhaegar took another step back. Hena stepped forward and stared at him without a word.


    Rhaegar retreated again, and she took another step forward.


    After several steps back, Rhaegar''s face went nk and he said softly, "I''ll make it clear for you. Just use the reason of being sick."


    He felt that if he retreated any further, something unexpected might happen.


    "I am not sick. I just don''t want to go, and I don''t need a reason," Hena insisted, stepping forward again.


    "Then what do you need? I''ll help as much as I can," Rhaegar said, avoiding her gaze and panicking inside. He knew he must look very embarrassed right now.


    "You know what I want," Hena replied, her expression softening slightly. She walked around him to the balcony without pushing too hard.


    Just as Rhaegar breathed a sigh of relief, she added faintly, "Someone at the party asked me to marry them."


    Rhaegar, mid-breath, was shocked, "What?"


    Whoever had done it so quickly had crossed a line.


    "It was a liar who wanted to use two castles to lure me and Dreamfyre," Hena exined calmly.


    Hearing the word "lure," Rhaegar''s demeanor turned icy, "House Peake!"


    The only one who could offer two castles as bait was House Peake of the Reach.


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but recall the tragic tale of Gael Targaryen, the simple girl lured by a lowly wandering singer, who bore an bastard child and ultimately took her own life.


    "So you were carrying Long Summer just now, looking for that Peake?" Rhaegar asked, understanding the situation.


    "He didn''t keep his word. I thought he would wait for me where he was," Hena replied, a bit lost.


    "Deliberately meeting in private and trying to seduce a princess��this is naked treason," Rhaegar''s voice grew cold as he turned to leave.


    Lying to the Targaryens, what a way to taste the fury of Dragonfire.


    "Wait."


    Hena''s urgent voice made Rhaegar halt abruptly. He felt a tug on the corner of his coat and stopped in his tracks, his eyelids twitching slightly. A sense of foreboding told him that there would be no peaceful resolution today.


    Hena''s eyes reddened, her open hand blocking the door. She pouted, "You''re not Baelon."


    "Grandfather?" Rhaegar was momentarily stunned, then began to ponder.


    Baelon Targaryen had led an extraordinary life, aplishing many great things. Born in the spring, he was called the "Prince of Spring." He once bravely challenged Balerion, the ck Dread, earning the nickname "Brave Baelon."


    At 16, he disguised himself as a mysterious knight, won a tournament in Old Oak, and earned the title of knight.


    Immediately after the dinner, he returned to King''s Landing and proimed himself a Dragonrider, taking to the skies on Vhagar''s back. Heter avenged his brother''s death in the Battle of the Hundred Candles by burning thousands of Tyrosh mercenaries and was elected as the heir to the Iron Throne.


    However, even the greatest lives are marked by unfulfilled regrets. After his wife, Alyssa, died from puerperal fever following the birth of their third child, Baelon was left heartbroken. Despite their sibling rtionship, Baelon and Alyssa were a deeply loving couple. Her death left him a lonely ghost, unable to develop feelings for any other woman.


    His ambitious sister, Viserra, dissatisfied with their father''s favoritism towards male heirs, intended to marry Baelon and be queen. One night, she stripped naked and entered Baelon''s chambers. Instead of receiving the response she sought, she was loudly reprimanded and thrown out.


    Afterward, Baelon hastily selected a fianc�� for her, prompting Viserra to run away from the marriage and eventually fall off a horse, breaking her neck.


    Rhaegar darkly recalled these events and wondered what Hena meant. Was she trying to say he wasn''t as faithful to marriage as their grandfather, or that he couldn''t bear to see her own marriage treated as a political transaction?


    Rhaegar''s mind was a jumbled mess as he thought, "Rhaenyra is no Alyssa either."


    Rhaenyra had the boldness of her grandmother and took care of him as Alyssa had loved Baelon since she was a child. But Rhaenyra would live a better life, and he couldn''t ept the loss of a loved one.


    At that, Hena''s teary-eyed, determined eyes said, "I''m not Viserra, either."


    She wouldn''t use that cheap tactic. Much less would she be so foolish as to ride a horse and fall to her death. She had a dragon, an adult dragon!


    "Hena, you should calm down," Rhaegar couldn''t really converse and pushed the door open to head out.


    He could marry Jeyne, but he couldn''t defile Hena. That was ying with fire, igniting the family conflict that was already like a powder keg ready to explode.


    His power seemed strong, but it was built on family unity. Aegon was whacked as a child and was a good brother with no ambition. Hena was close to him and had her own ideas. Aemond and Daeron were also aware of their eldest brother''s love and responsibility and chose to uphold his authority.


    With four dragon riders siblings stabilized, and the Greens without a single royal member as a leader, Alicent had been honest until now. Once Hena was involved, Alicent wouldn''t be restrained, mad at anything. Then, his rtionship with his siblings would drop to a freezing point.


    He''s not afraid of Aegon and the others shaking him down. But it would cause a family split, Targaryen infighting. The reason Rhaegar loves his siblings is to carry on the Targaryen bloodline and unite the family. Infighting together goes against his original intention.


    Hena reached out to stop him, not giving him a chance to get away, and simply said, "Brother, the dragon have three heads."


    Rhaegar was pressed against his chest and passively lowered his head. Hena said, "You already have a Rhaenys, I''m going to be Visenya!"

 Chapter 405: Make Up Your Mind!

    Chapter 405: Make Up Your Mind!


    The little girl''s voice was crisp and clear, with a conviction that could not be denied.


    Rhaegar was stunned, gazing at the sister he had watched grow up since childhood.


    In his impression, Hena was a tender little girl. Trapped by the Dreamer talent, she developed a withdrawn personality. A poor girl who would cry at the slightest bullying from her brother Aegon.


    As the two figures ovepped, Rhaegar couldn''t help but be dazed and added, "You''ve grown up."


    "Brother, don''t exclude me," Hena said hopefully. She had grown up and had her own ideas. It was her intention to gain her brother''s approval in a silent way.


    But her mother pushed too hard and tried to marry her off. If she didn''t make up her mind today, she would only be further away from what she wanted in the future.


    Rhaegar finally came to his senses and embraced the little girl with aplex expression: "Since you boast of being Visenya, you should understand my difficulties."


    "Hmm!" Hena sniffed and nodded as she buried her head in her brother''s chest.


    "I''ll go out first and leave the troubles outside," Rhaegar said, rubbing her long hair, his voice soft. He had a headache, unsure if he should answer or not. In principle, this was the absolute wrong thing to do. One wrong move and the family he had worked so hard to create would fall apart, giving the vultures of the outside world a chance to take advantage of the situation.


    Hena read his struggle with her sensitive mind. Tilting her head, she looked at him with determined eyes and said boldly, "Brother, are you willing to marry me to another man and have me bear children for others?"


    Rhaegar''s heart sank, his mind racing with thoughts. Tearing away the facade, the simple question went straight to the heart. They had been together since childhood, and their feelings were strong. Marrying Hena to a man other than a Targaryen, out of the family''s core circle, how could there be no ripples in his heart?


    Whether it was weighing the pros and cons, or emotions, looking at Hena, whose eyes were red and stubborn, Rhaegar was speechless.


    Hena had already gotten the answer and broke into a smile, "Brother, the Targaryen bloodline is destined to make us attracted to each other." The world rules could not restrict the Targaryens.


    Rhaegar was silent. He held her slender waist in his embrace and raised a hand to wipe the tears from the corners of her eyes. Hena beamed and stared straight ahead.


    She had finally seeded. She didn''t need any underhanded means, just the burning blood that flowed together. From time to time, her mother had drilled the ways of Hightower''s establishment into her, but she didn''t recognize them.


    Her! Hena! Targaryen! Dragons have their own way of living.


    After a long moment, Rhaegar pursed his lips, seeming to release something deep within himself.


    Rhaegar released her and said firmly, "You stay here. I''m going out first, alright?"


    "What for?" Hena asked crisply.


    "Just step aside, little brat." Rhaegar pushed the door open, gently nudging Hena back toward the bedroom.


    Moving quickly, he slipped out the door, needing a moment of silence.


    Thump��


    The door closed, leaving Hena alone in the room. She cupped her face, feeling the tear tracks and the lingering warmth of Rhaegar''s fingers.


    "How bold," Hena murmured, rubbing her face until it turned red. Her heart pounded as she stared at the door in confusion. Everything had seemed fine, but now he was gone. She had hoped to bask in the moment a little longer, but it had fizzled out.


    "Ugh..." Hena sighed, slightly disappointed.


    Bang...


    The door burst open again, and Rhaegar stormed back in.


    Hena''s eyes widened, "Back?"


    Rhaegar exhaled deeply and sighed, "I couldn''t stay away."


    Stepping out, his mind kept reying the potential consequences, just like the Viserra matter. He couldn''t leave things unresolved.


    "Brother," Hena beamed, rushing toward him.


    "Stop!" Rhaegar scowled, grabbing her by the back of the neck to keep her at a distance.


    With a stomp, he shut the bedroom door. He looked around, then grabbed a red nket, wrapping Hena tightly like a small mummy.


    Except for her feet and head, she waspletely swaddled.


    Bending his knees, he lifted the bundled Hena and carried her to the balcony,ying her on a recliner.


    She squirmed and protested, "Brother, not like that."


    Rhaegar pressed her head gently toward his shoulder and backhandedly smacked her lightly on the buttocks, "Be honest. I''m trying to protect you. Don''t get ahead of yourself."


    He looked out toward the Godswood, his gaze touching the white tree trunk with its bright red, blood-like leaves, and the ghastly human face etched into it, pulling a wry smile.


    With a thought, ck fire emerged from Rhaegar''s forehead, and a pitch-ck dragon scale broke through his flesh. His aura surged, purifying his emotions and radiating an indescribable, dangerous majesty.


    "Brother, you''ve grown scales," Hena said, her eyes wide with confusion.


    Rhaegar retracted his gaze, amused by her expression. "It''s a small issue. Targaryens have their quirks."


    The dragon scales quietly disappeared. Rhaegar tugged gently on her cheeks and asked, "How''s the bronze runes I taught youing along?"


    "I''ve inscribed a good chunk of them, just have a few ones left to finish," Hena replied, leaning her head on his shoulder.


    Since herst stolen kiss from her brother and a stern warning from her eldest sister, she hadn''t been this close to her brother in a long time.


    Rhaegar concentrated on her progress, surprised. "A good part? Very impressive."


    Rhaenyra was studying the same runes and was only halfway through. Hena, being more introverted, had devoted most of her time to inscribing runes.


    Rhaegar rxed and began to draw arger picture for her. "Carve them well. When you''re done, I''ll teach you the serpent rune."


    The siblings were already close, and the serpent rune, though difficult, could be taught. This method would also keep Hena distracted.


    Hena nodded, enjoying the feeling of being trusted.


    Rhaegar shared some of his experiences, then tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He had given up on the idea of being alone and quiet, not wanting to tolerate Hena''s sadness. He needed to think about the future.


    The threat of the Triarchy was gone, and the three city-states were in disarray. He pondered how to stabilize Rhaenyra and how to gain the endorsement of the Faith of the Seven for his ns to marry more than one woman.


    So much trouble!


    Thinking of Aegon the Conqueror, Rhaegar felt a surge of determination. "All Targaryens are blood rted. If I''m sitting on the Iron Throne, what''s wrong with marrying two more women?"


    Two hundred years ago, Valyria was allowed to marry more than one. If he could stabilize the vtile Rhaenyra and Alicent, marrying Hena would strengthen the family.


    When Aegon the Conqueror and his three dragons subdued Westeros, he forced the High Septon to crown him. Now, the Targaryens had a dozen direct members and a dozen dragons ruling the skies.


    The Faith of the Seven wouldn''t dare to riot.


    He wanted to see how many armies the High Septon could muster against him.


    As Rhaegar''s thoughts drifted, a faintly fragrant breeze blew past his ears, tickling them. He shook his head and looked down.


    Hena, her cheeks puffed out, was huffing and blowing with her mouth. Seeing Rhaegar''s attention, she blew even harder.


    Rhaegar was bewildered and unsure of her actions.


    With a soft whimper, Hena''s blowing didn''t work, so she arched upwards and bit Rhaegar''s ear gently.


    "Let go!" Rhaegar winced, reaching up to pinch her cheeks, forcing her to release him.


    Hena''s eyes filled with suspicion as she pouted her pink lips.


    "What was that for?" Rhaegar asked, clearly puzzled.


    Hena''s head drooped in disappointment. "I saw that you were pleasured when your sister did this," she admitted, trying to please him.


    Rhaegarughed in annoyance. "Peeking is not a good habit," he said, shaking his head. "Rhaenyra can be too bold sometimes."


    Unconvinced, Hena leaned in and nted a kiss on his cheek, leaving Rhaegar stunned. She twisted her mummy-like body to move closer and continue the kiss.


    "No!" Rhaegar quickly moved away, his voice lowering as he pressed Hena''s palm-sized face away. "You have to wait."


    "You let me in," Hena insisted stubbornly.


    Rhaegar sighed and said solemnly, "I cannot do this while Rhaenyra is pregnant." After a pause, feeling iplete, he added, "When you''re older and a true adult."


    He allowed himself certain liberties with Jeyne and the bastarddy, but those weren''t for the sake of matrimony and were the asional mistakes of a male in a noble ss. However, cheating while Rhaenyra was pregnant would be a betrayal and deeply humiliating.


    Rhaegar sighed and said solemnly, "I can''t do this while Rhaenyra is pregnant." After a pause, feeling iplete, he added, "When you''re older and a true adult."


    He allowed himself certain liberties with Jeyne, the bastard daughter, but those were for the sake of matrimony and were the asional mistakes of a male in a noble ss. However, cheating while Rhaenyra was pregnant would be a betrayal and deeply humiliating.


    Not caring whether Hena understood the deeper meaning, Rhaegar pressed her skull gently and said, "Hush! Sleep."


    Reluctantly, Hena blinked andy back down.


    Both siblings closed their eyes, quietly enjoying the sunlight and the cool breeze.


    Suddenly, Hena mentioned, "What about that Lord Peake?"


    Rhaegar, still with his eyes closed, replied, "There''s no rush. Havingmitted a crime, he''s probably fled the Red Keep by now. Let him run for a while."


    "Oh." Hena adjusted herself into afortable position.


    For a moment, the bedroom regained its peace. Sunlight bathed the room, with a handsome young man in silver hair and ck clothes reclining in a chair, and a red-wrapped Hena in his arms.


    It was an intoxicatingly beautiful picture, provided one ignored the red caterpir-like cocoon that Hena was wrapped in.


    ...


    At the Same Time


    Upstairs, the Princess'' Bedroom


    Sara stood guard at the door of the quiet room. The princess was pregnant and often needed long naps.


    Inside the bedroom, silk curtains draped over the floor-to-ceiling windows, blocking out the harsh sunlight. Rhaenyra, in a loose nightgown, slept quietly on her side. One hand was under her ear, the other resting on her round belly. She slept so soundly that she didn''t realize she was dreaming.


    In the dream:


    Rhaenyra was lying in her bedroom, everything around her unchanged.


    "Hmph ..." There was a strange sound in her arms, a faint whimper.


    Confused, Rhaenyra looked down. Her rounded belly was gone, and her stomach was t. In her arms were two small white babies, squeezed together, twisting and turning as they tried to roll over. After much effort, their chubby bodies wouldn''t budge, their faces turning a suffocating red.


    Rhaenyra recognized them immediately as her children.


    "Grr..." The two little babies, tired of tossing and turning, their purple eyes darting around, nibbled at their little pink hands and arms. Rhaenyra watched silently, her heart melting.


    "Roar..." Suddenly, a shrill roar echoed. There was more than one; several sounds joined together. Rhaenyra, still unaware that she was dreaming, instinctively wrapped her arms around the two babies.


    "Roar..." A young bronze dragon, norger than a house cat, flew out first,nding on the bed and spreading its wings.


    "Roar..." The next moment, three more young dragons flew out from different parts of the bedroom, chirping and scurrying around. Tired of flying, each looked for a ce tond. Onended on the headboard next to the bronze young dragon. Twonded at the foot of the bed, craning their necks to look back and forth.


    Rhaenyra rubbed her eyes in dismay, unable to make out the appearance of the other three young dragons.


    "Wahh..." One of the babies in her arms howled after exerting too much force. Crying, the baby quickly grabbed a wooden toy and threw it at the bed.


    Plop--


    The toy hit the bronze-colored young dragon precisely.


    "Roar ..." Instantly, the four young dragons were frightened and pped their wings to fly away.


    "Hmph ..." The baby immediately stopped crying and arched into Rhaenyra''s arms, searching forfort. Looking at the scene, the baby seemed quite domineering.

 Chapter 406: Bitterbridge

    Chapter 406: Bitterbridge


    Time passed minute by minute, and dusk settled in.


    The sultry weather passed, reced by a fishy, salty sea breeze carrying fine raindrops.


    Red Keep, the Princess'' Bedroom


    The sky darkened, and the rain, apanied by a cool wind, pped against the zed windows, creating a dense, crackling sound.


    Hena was awakened by the sound of rain and opened her eyes, dazed. The wind and rain intensified, causing the godswood to sway brazenly.


    As she moved, the binding sensation of the package disappeared. Hena looked around in bewilderment, curled up alone on the recliner, with a red nket covering her body.


    "Where''s brother?" Disentangling herself from the embrace, Hena sat up quickly and peered toward the door.


    The door was closed, and the bedroom was empty.


    Feeling sleepy but instantly energized, Hena murmured in a low voice, "Outside?"


    "Ah!!!"


    Suddenly, a sharp, piercing female scream echoed through half of the Red Keep, almost breaking the sound barrier with its thick panic.


    Hena''s fine eyebrows furrowed slightly, sensing something was wrong.


    "Better go out and see."


    Murmuring to herself, she got up, threw off the red nket and pushed open the door.


    She had slept through the day and into the night; something important must have happened in the meantime.


    ...


    Roseroad


    The sky was cloudy, and a storm blew in dark clouds that blocked the setting sun.


    " Hyah!"


    A group of cavalrymen galloped furiously west along the t Roseroad, their horses'' hooves kicking up dust.


    The group was small in number, about a dozen heavily armed knights. On their armor and shields, the House emblems of the three castles were branded.


    "Run faster, we''re almost at the Bitterbridge!" Unwin Peake shouted sternly, his expression unusually tense.


    He had confronted the princess in private, and his crudenguage had revealed his intentions. Given Hena''s temper at the time, there was absolutely no good oue for him.


    Coming from the harsh environment of the Dornish Bordends, awareness of danger was a quality every member of House Peake possessed. Taking advantage of the fact that the princess hadn''t yet snapped and the king didn''t know about it, he immediately led his knights to run.


    Avoiding me at the first opportunity, with the king''s weak character, he would not pursue a lord too much.


    The sky grew darker and darker, and the heavy rain came as expected.


    "Hightower''s bitch, no credibility at all!" said Unwin, panting with exhaustion and cursing under his breath.


    He had tried to beg the Queen''s forgiveness. The queen had only sent a maid to dismiss him, as if she cared nothing for him.


    "Your weak women! No wonder your four children can''t defeat the Heir Prince!"


    Unwin harbored resentment and couldn''t help but curse. If he had stood in the position of the Queen, he would have poisoned the Heir Prince and elected his own children to the throne.


    The Green Faction, backed by the Hightower House, is also just a joke.


    Rumble--


    Heavy rain poured down, apanied by lightning and thunder. In the blink of an eye, it became too dark to see the road, and the rain mixed with the gusty wind stung their skin.


    The road surface became muddy, and the war horses struggled to take a step.


    "Damn it, what a rotten luck," Unwin cursed as he struck the nks of the horse with a fierce blow.


    Desperation set in as the situation worsened.


    "My lord, there''s a fire ahead!" Mervyn Flowers, running at the front, shouted in surprise.


    Unwin rubbed his face, peering through the rain to see the faint light of a fire a few miles away.


    The fire was elevated, covered by something, resembling a pointing top tower in a storm.


    Unwin''s eyes widened in relief. "Speed up, that''s the Bitterbridge ahead!"


    The Bitterbridge spanned a tributary of the Mander River, with House Caswell''s long bridge providing the fastest route from King''s Landing back to the Reach.


    Instantly relieved, Unwin spurred his horse forward.


    As a lord of the Rivends, he had many dealings with Lord Caswell and saw this as an opportunity to ask for a night''s rest.


    Before long, a lofty castle appeared, blocking the bridge across the river. The firelight seen from afar was the bonfire on the castle wall.


    Unwin led the team to the front of the castle. Before his men could shout, the castle''s drawbridge slowly lowered.


    Bang--


    As soon as the drawbridgended, a group of soldiers ran out in two rows, escorting a tall, thin man dressed in ck finery with a bald head.


    Unwin eyed the man warily. The bald man was none other than the Bitterbridge Lord, Allun Caswell.


    Lord Caswell greeted him warmly, a smile on his face. "The guards said a group of cavalry had arrived. I was wondering who it was. Wee, Lord Unwin."


    Unwin, drenched and in a state of distress, replied, "Lord Caswell, my family has sent an urgent message. We need to hurry back. Could you kindly provide us shelter for the night?"


    He fabricated a usible reason to cover up his escape from King''s Landing.


    Lord Caswell''s smile didn''t waver. He generously offered, "The storm is too strong. Quickly,e inside to take shelter from the rain. I will prepare hot water and food for you."


    "Thank you for your generosity," Unwin said, though he felt a vague unease at Lord Caswell''s persistent smile. With the wind and rain blocking his way, he had no choice but to dismount and walk inside.


    Caswell, enthusiastic and seemingly oblivious to the wet and cold, pulled Unwin along, engaging in small talk as they entered the castle.


    As they passed through the castle gate, Unwin''s face changed slightly as he remembered an important custom. He tugged on Lord Caswell''s arm and cautiously asked, "Where is the salt and bread?"


    ording to the guestw of Westeros, the host was supposed to provide salt and bread as a sign of protection before the guest entered the castle.


    Caswell''s demeanor remained unchanged. He continued pulling Unwin towards the castle forecourt, smiling as he said, "Don''t be anxious. First, I will take you to meet a guest."


    House Caswell held a lord title but their castle wasn''trge. One could almost see from one end to the other.


    But the sky was dark, and the rain curtain obstructed visibility.


    Unwin strained his eyes, barely able to make out the castle''s outline.


    Crack!


    A thunderbolt illuminated the scene for a brief moment.


    "Roar..."


    Outside the towering castle, a massive dragony prostrate, its thick neck extending over the dozens-of-feet-high walls, its pair of green vertical pupils gazing icily at the vestibule.


    Unwin''s eyes widened in horror, his body stiffening as cold air crawled down his spine.


    Caswell courteously raised his hand and pointed, "My lord, your guest is waiting for you."


    Trembling, Unwin cast his gaze towards the castle gate.


    It stood open, nked by orange torches that cast a warm glow.


    A silver-haired figure in ck stood straight, like a pine tree in a rainy night.


    With his hands behind his back, he turned, a kind smile on his face.


    A brightugh reached Unwin''s ears. "Lord Peake, I''ve been waiting for you."


    ...


    King''s Landing, Red Keep.


    Hena, cloaked, trotted down the stairs, her silver hair untied and shaking in fluffy disarray.


    A squire had brought urgent news: Aegon, drunk, hadmitted a grave mistake.


    "Damn it! Look what you''ve done!" Lyonel''s angry roar echoed through the door as Hena reached the entrance to the Firece Hall.


    She froze, expecting to hear her father''s or mother''s reprimand first.


    "Princess!" Steffon and Lorent, two of the Kingsguard, guarded the door and greeted her respectfully.


    Hena nodded, signaling for the Kingsguard to open the door.


    Inside the Firece Hall, the guests had been cleared out. The only people present were members of the royal family and royal advisers.


    As soon as Hena entered, she saw the Commander of the City Watch, Harwin Strong, kneeling on the ground, while Hand of the King Lyonel pointed at him, scolding furiously. Harwin''s eyes were dull, his handsome face bruised and purple.


    Not far away, a maid knelt, weeping and covering her face in fear.


    The scene was enough to suggest the worst.


    Hena''s eyes widened in confusion.


    Turning her head, she saw her father, his face blue with rage, shaking with anger. Her mother''s face was hard, standing protectively in front of a shivering Aegon.


    "Hena, my daughter!" Alicent whimpered, leaving Aegon behind and taking Hena in her arms, her steps small and hurried. The events of the night were hard to digest, and she clung to her innocent daughter forfort.


    Hena felt confused and overwhelmed.


    Little Daeron pounded his short legs and ran to her, his brow furrowed with a touch of sadness. Hugging his sister, he whispered, "Aegon is in trouble."


    For a long moment, Hena sorted through the chaos. She had missed much by refusing to attend the afternoon feast.


    As the sun set, the sky grew cloudy, casting a somber tone over the castle grounds.


    The servants busily gathered up the leftovers and carried the tables, chairs, and benches back to the castle amidst a flurry of activity andmotion.


    Aegon slipped out of the Godswood and returned to the attic alone. On his way, he encountered Selene Hightower, who had lost herpanion. He pulled her along and tried to make out with her.


    Just as he was about toy his hands on her, another scream echoed through the air.


    Harwin Strong, who had drunk too much at the banquet, had retired alone to the Hand of the King''s Tower to rest. A maid cleaning the room was attacked by him, pinned to the bed against her will.


    By the time the guards arrived at the sound of her screams, Harwin had already pulled up his pants and fallen into a deep sleep.


    Hena stood nearby, stunned and shaken by the story she was hearing.


    Aegon molested Selene and Harwin raped a maid...


    "Bastard, I told you to find a woman to marry. Instead you go and defile the honor of a maid!"


    Lyonel roared, his voice echoing through the hall.


    Harwin lowered his head, mumbling an apology.


    Seeing this, Lyonel''s anger red even more. He stormed over and delivered a fierce kick. "Waste! You don''t deserve to be my son."


    The kicknded squarely on Harwin''s chest, sending him sprawling to the ground.


    Rhaenyra, standing hand in hand with Laena, watched the scene in disbelief.


    The twins, terrified, closed their eyes and clung to their foster mother''s legs.


    No one would have believed that the once upright Harwin couldmit such a disgraceful act.


    Lyonel approached the king, bowing his head in shame. "Your Grace, it''s my fault for not raising my son properly. I take full responsibility for this scandal."


    Raping a maid in the Red Keep was an affront to the royal family.


    Viserys red at Aegon and spoke in a deep voice, "It''s not your fault, Lyonel. Every family has its ck sheep."


    Despite the severity of the situation, Viserys found a small measure of relief in Harwin''s actions.


    Were it not for Harwin''s rape of a maid and themotion that rmed half of the Red Keep, not only would Aegon have been a molester of a nobleman''s daughter, he would have been a second rapist.


    Alicent wrapped her arms around her daughter and whispered, "Viserys, this is not the time to talk about this, we have to deal with it."


    "Deal with it? How? I can''t wait to castrate him immediately!" Viserys was furious, pointing indignantly at Aegon.


    To tantly harass a nobledy of your own mother''s house, how dare you!


    Aegon shivered in fear and turned pale: "It wasn''t my fault, it all happened so fast, I didn''t even know what I was doing."


    He wasn''t lying.


    At that time, he was drunk and dizzy, and all he felt was hot and wanted to go home and vent alone.


    He happened to bump into Selene Hightower and lost control for a moment.

 Chapter 407: The Crumbling Greens

    Chapter 407: The Crumbling Greens


    "Silence! You are in no position to squirm after being caught in the act!" Viserys rebuked angrily.


    For the prince to molest with a nobleman''s daughter was nothing less than a tant affront to the dignity of the royal family.


    Aegon felt an overwhelming sense of injustice. He wanted to cry; he hadn''t even dared toy a finger on the handmaidens, let alone a nobleman''s daughter.


    Meanwhile, Alicent stood by, watching her son with a look of self-reproach. She nervously picked at the nail of her index finger, her n having been simple: allow Aegon to meet the eligible maidens and choose a fianc��e befitting his status.


    If no suitable candidate emerged, she would create an illusion��make it appear that Aegon shared a room with Selene, and let the deception unfold naturally.


    But her n was thrown into disarray when Harwin became involved in it.


    And there was Unwin Peake, that scheming man, whose drug for Aegon turned out to be not a mere stimnt, but a potent medicine from Lys, almost leading to a disastrous error.


    "I didn��t mean to touch Selene; she just bumped into me!" Aegon protested, his head throbbing with the urge to clear his name.


    "How dare you! Now, who will you me?" Viserys shot back, his voiceced with incredulity and anger.


    He was genuinely enraged, believing his second son to be beyond redemption.


    It was natural to be attracted to women, but a man should possess character, responsibility, and ountability.


    While his eldest son''s affair with the Lady of the Vale was beyond reproach, his second son''s drunken misbehavior and harassment of a nobledy was utterly disgraceful.


    Though not as heinous as Harwin��s assault on a maid, it was still a matter Viserys, as a father, could suppress.


    Exasperated, his chest heaving with anger, Viserys nced at the Hightower brothers in the hall.


    Otto remained stoic and calm, not uttering a word.


    Ormund was sullen and fidgety, pacing back and forth.


    Yet, a closer look revealed something unusual.


    Otto''s eyes were deep, harboring a hint of shrewdness.


    Ormund seemed agitated, with a hidden touch of excitement in his eyes.


    Their intention was clear: they wanted the Hightowers to continue their ties with the next generation of the royal family, strengthening their bond with the Iron Throne.


    Just like the Vryons, Baratheons, and Arryns, they sought generations of marriages with the Targaryens.


    Aegon��s incident with Selene, Otto��s niece, was precisely what they needed.


    Viserys frowned, sensing something was amiss.


    Despite his suspicions, he couldn��t pinpoint the exact issue.


    Turning to Lyonel, he said, somewhat relieved, "Young people make mistakes. Let him go reflect for now."


    Lyonel, sharp-minded, understood this as the king offering a way out for everyone involved.


    Raising his head, he angrily rebuked his eldest son, "Get out of here and sober up!"


    Afterward, he strode over to the kneeling and crying maid, assisting her personally. "Don''t worry, I won��t let this go," he assured her solemnly.


    Every word and action showcased the Hand of the King��s impartiality and strictness.


    The maid nodded vigorously, her gratitude evident. "I won��t cause trouble. I��ll be obedient..."


    "Don''t be afraid. I will see to it that justice is done," Lyonel said withpassion, ordering the other maids to take her away. This asion was not suitable for a mere maid.


    A Kingsguard stepped forward, roughly lifting the disheveled Harwin and dragging him out the door.


    Remarkably, this scandalous incident, which had caused such a stir, was deftly handled and set aside.


    Lyonel secretly breathed a sigh of relief and gave a grateful look to the king.


    As long as the crown did not pursue the matter further, his eldest son would be spared severe punishment.


    He wouldn��t be imprisoned or stripped of his status and dignity.


    Alicent''s eyes sparkled with determination as she pleaded, "Your Grace, Aegon didn''t mean any harm."


    The situation had already escted, and it was crucial to find a way to mitigate the damage.


    Viserys, still seething with anger, retorted, "His disgrace was witnessed by many. Do you still see him as a child?"


    There was no telling how far rumors of this royal scandal would spread.


    "Your Grace, Prince Aegon is young and foolish. There are still ways to remedy this situation," Lyonel interjected at the right moment, his voice calm and measured.


    As the Hand of the King, Lyonel understood the importance of salvaging the royal family''s dignity. As long as Aegon hadn��t ruined a noble girl''s chastity, there was room to maneuver.


    Viserys listened, his heart agreeing with Lyonel��s logic.


    Otto stepped forward with a solemn expression. "Rumors are dangerous. This concerns the dignity of the royal family and must be taken seriously."


    "What do you suggest?" Viserys asked, his tone still sharp.


    Otto pretended to ponder before replying, "Selene was already considered a candidate for Prince Aegon''s marriage. By proceeding with the marriage, we can quash the rumors."


    "Marriage again?" Viserys was taken aback.


    Alicent, holding Hena tightly, interjected, "Selene is a young girl and a victim. This marriage would preserve her reputation."


    Hena stared nkly at her mother, herrge eyes filled with confusion. She had noticed a w in the n. ncing at Aegon, she bowed her head silently, knowing that speaking up might cause more trouble.


    Viserys, sensing something amiss, questioned, "Is Aegon truly opposed to the girls of Hightower?"


    Otto quickly added, "Aegon��s reluctance stems from his unfamiliarity with the Hightowers."


    Viserys narrowed his eyes, his gaze shifting between Aegon and Otto. He began to suspect there was more to the situation.


    Aegon, seemingly unfazed by the idea of a Hightower bride, spoke with impatience. It was clear the girl from House Hightower had yed a part in the incident, and now Otto and Alicent seemed eager for the marriage to proceed.


    For a moment, Viserys felt as if he saw a trap closing around his son.


    Otto coughed lightly and continued, "Your Grace, a marriage between Aegon and Selene would unite our families and cover up this scandal."


    Viserys hesitated, mulling over the proposal. "It��s not a bad suggestion. I will think about it carefully."


    Though inwardly repelled by the idea, he couldn''t deny its potential benefits.


    Lyonel opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, helpless. His own son was in trouble, and he couldn��t think of a better solution.


    The atmosphere grew tense as events seemed to be steering toward a union between the two families.


    Just as Viserys was about to agree, Aegon suddenly burst out, "No!!!"


    He shouted excitedly, "I don''t want to marry Selene! I didn��t defile her chastity!"


    He couldn��t hold back any longer as he watched events spiral into the worst possible oue.


    Aegon feared his mother��s domineering influence and loathed being constantly lectured by her. The thought of marrying a girl from House Hightower, so simr to his mother, was unbearable.


    Alicent snapped back, chiding, "Aegon, you have no ce to speak here!"


    "You��re discussing my marriage," Aegon retorted defiantly.


    Alicent ignored his defiance and continued sternly, "If you don��t marry Selene, how will you restore her reputation? What nobleman will still want to marry her?"


    Suitable girls for Aegon were scarce. The nobles of Westeros were acutely aware of the rift between the ck and Green factions and recognized the Green party''s vulnerability.


    As the Queen��s firstborn son, Aegon was inevitably seen as a representative of the Green party. None of the major nobles were willing to marry their daughters to him. Compared to minor noble daughters, a marriage with the Hightowers would better stabilize the royal family''s alliances.


    Aegon shook his head frantically, refusing, "I won��t marry her. You can��t force me."


    "Aegon, this is a great opportunity. Why do you refuse?" Otto quickly stepped forward, grabbing his grandson��s cor. "Unless you can find a better house to join, tell me, can you?"


    Unaware of the deeper intrigue, Otto��s reaction was instinctively political, aiming to avoid harm.


    Aegon��s eyes were filled with helplessness, unable to find a rebuttal. He only knew the whores of King��s Landing.


    Otto released his cor and admonished, "No candidate? Then be quiet."


    Watching his second son being reprimanded, Viserys felt a deep sense of unease. He spoke in a muffled voice, "In that case, let��s proceed with the engagement."


    "Good. I will inform Selene. The poor girl has been crying a lot," Alicent responded quickly, a weight lifted from her heart.


    The marriage was hastily finalized.


    Aegon stood frozen, almost in shock. He had only had a bit too much wine. How had things gone so wrong? Why was he being forced to marry a Hightower woman, someone he despised?


    His chest tightened with resentment as he struggled toprehend his fate.


    Aegon gritted his teeth and stormed out of the hall.


    "Where are you going?" Alicent asked, her voice urgent.


    "I''m going back to the Twin Castles, my fiefdom," Aegon snapped, his steps brisk and his tone irritated.


    "You have a betrothal to attend to. You��re not going anywhere," Alicent replied firmly.


    Aegon pushed the door open with force, turning back with a disgruntled usation. "You arranged the marriage, so you can handle it yourselves. No one cares what I think anyway."


    With that, he left without looking back. In that moment of solitude, he felt a small sense of gratitude. At least his father had given him a fiefdom, and Rhaegar had built a castle for him. Otherwise, he��d be left to rot in a brothel.


    Alicent watched her son leave in exasperation, calling his name in vain. The more she shouted, the faster he walked away.


    "Mother, he��s afraid of you," Hena observed calmly from the sidelines.


    "What did you say?" Alicent was stunned, thinking she had misheard.


    "You have excessive expectations of him," Hena replied, her voice steady. As an introvert with a keen mind, she had her own prating view of the situation.


    "Mother, I won��t attend the engagement banquet either," Hena continued softly, breaking away from Alicent��s embrace.


    Alicent looked at her daughter, feeling a sudden unfamiliarity. "You didn��te to the party this afternoon," she said, trying toprehend.


    "I��m not of age yet. Let��s wait until I turn sixteen," Hena said, her eyes clear. She nced at her heavily pregnant elder sister, Rhaenyra, who stood silently watching the family drama unfold.


    "I��m going back to rest," Hena added, giving a curtsey before excusing herself.


    She guessed that her brother wouldn��t return to King��s Landing anytime soon. nning ahead, she intended to ride Dreamfyre to Harrenhal��s Castle the next morning to seek refuge, avoiding both her mother and her eldest sister.


    "They are gone?" Viserys''s brow furrowed deeply, and he nearly lost his bnce.


    "Your Grace," Erryk, standing guard, quickly stepped forward to assist the stricken king.


    Rhaenyra''s face tightened with concern as she moved to support her father. In Rhaegar''s absence, the burden fell on her shoulders.


    "I''m fine. The matter is settled. Everyone, go and rest," Viserys forced a smile, leaning on Erryk for support as he left the hall.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes were filled withplex emotions as she rubbed her swollen belly. She too sensed the undercurrents beneath the recent conflicts. Sighing softly, she resolved to return to Dragonstone once the matter was resolved.


    Counting Rhaegar and Aemond, who were away, it seemed that of the six Targaryen children, only little Daeron had yet to consider leaving.


    A good haven, but everyone seemed eager to escape.


    Members of the royal family filed out of the hall, followed by the advisors.


    By the end of the day, only the three Hightowers remained in the firece hall.


    Ormund smiled, pleased with the prospect of another family marriage. Unless the Tyrells were ousted, the Hightower House would need to rely on marriage to the royal family to elevate their status.


    Alicent stood frozen, disoriented by the realization that both her children had abandoned her. If she had known, perhaps she wouldn''t have organized the festival or plotted this marriage alliance. Maybe it would have been better to set up Aegon and Hena in a traditional match.


    Otto sighed, stepping forward to pat his daughter''s shoulder. "Don''t be sad. The fledglings will grow up someday, and you''ll still be their mother."


    "Father, I want what''s best for them," Alicent murmured.


    "I know," Otto replied. "I used to think the same way. That''s why you��re a queen."


    "Is that so?" Alicent''s heart tightened, her eyes zing over as she pondered his words.

 Chapter 408: Rhaegar: Why Doesn’t He Get a Break?

    Chapter 408: Rhaegar: Why Doesn��t He Get a Break?


    The next day dawned sunny with a gentle breeze.


    In the basin of the Mander River, Bitterbridge stood alone on either bank, hardy as a solitary tree, fearless of wind and frost.


    The long river, more than a few dozen yards wide and as deep as a house, flowed with crystal clear water. The sandy ground at the river''s edge gave way to lushwns where flowers swayed gently in the breeze. After the night''s rain, the flowers and nts looked refreshed, though small animals remained hidden.


    "Roar..."


    Upstream, a massive dragon as ck as charcoal crouched in the water, its huge body blocking the river like a ck stone dam.


    Cannibal shook its head, sending water sshing over its hard scales.


    The entire dragony on its back in the river, the water barely covering its chest and belly, while its towering spine remained dry.


    With a snap, its slender tailshed violently, causing an explosion of water to spray upward before cascading down.


    Cannibal��s green pupils narrowed slightly as it rested its head on the riverbank, allowing the river water to wash over its body. The dragon was ufortable after being drenched in the rain all night.


    The river, blocked by the dragon, slowed its flow, creating a serene yet imposing scene.


    Plop��


    A silver-haired figure broke through the water, swimming to the side of the giant dragon.


    "Whew! That feels amazing," Rhaegar eximed, dripping wet and fully enjoying the caress of the gurgling water.


    "Roar..." Cannibal nced at him, seemingly puzzled by his rider''s early morning swim.


    Rhaegar squinted as he wiped away the water droplets, then spoke soothingly, "An asional outing does wonders for the mind and body."


    He shook his head, sending bead-sized droplets flying, and wrung out his damp silver hair to the side.


    Man and dragon rxed in the water,fortable in each other''s presence.


    Rhaegar��s form was striking, his porcin-white skin gleaming in the sunlight, and his solid muscles sculpted like a masterpiece.


    Cannibal��s green pupils half-closed,zily shaking its massive body, disturbing the fish and shrimp in the water.


    When Lord Caswell of Bitterbridge arrived, he was greeted by this extraordinary sight.


    Lord Caswell was momentarily mesmerized, his gaze filled with awe and reverence.


    The Heir Prince had his back to him, silver hair cascading to his waist, his naked body a marvel of craftsmanship.


    The river water reached up to his waist, sshing a fine mist as it crashed against his skin.


    Raising his hand, Rhaegar gently rubbed the dragon''s long, thick neck, the porcin white of his skin contrasting sharply with the dragon��s pitch-ck scales.


    "Lord Caswell, your gaze is rather presumptuous, even for a man," Rhaegar��s voice cut through the air, tinged with disgust.


    Startled, Lord Caswell looked up to see a slight change in the scene.


    Cannibal''s vertical pupils showed a hint of displeasure, and the dragon''s head now hung menacingly above him.


    Rhaegar faced him, his handsome features carrying an air of enchantment.


    As a child, Rhaegar had been cute and fragile, with a slight aura of gloom. But as he grew, he became stronger, his features developing significant masculine traits. Now, as a dragon descendant, his body had be nearly perfect, with an added androgynous beauty.


    "Mother gave me a good look," Rhaegar mused inwardly, donning a white scarf as he walked toward the riverbank.


    Cannibal was the first to rise, spreading its enormous pitch-ck wings and shaking off the water droplets into a fine mist.


    Rhaegar stepped out of the river, a hint of red veins emerging on his porcin-white skin as the water vapor naturally evaporated. He casually took out a set of ck clothes from his space bracelet and dressed as if no one else was around.


    Loosening his cor, Rhaegar asked, "Lord Caswell, I have something else to trouble you withter."


    Allun Caswell, still bowing, dared not look directly at him. Sniffing, he replied, "It is my honor to serve you."


    "Go on," Rhaegar said, amused, patting Allun Caswell��s shoulder.


    Only after Rhaegar walked a few steps away did Lord Caswell straighten his back and follow, his shiny bald head gleaming in the sunlight.


    The House Caswell of Bitterbridge was indeed loyal, executing Rhaegar''s orders wlessly. Rhaegar nced back at Bitterbridge, contemting how best to utilize this territory.


    Despite House Caswell title, their wealth and status rivaled most noble houses in the Reach. The castle''s excellent location served as a crucial road leading to the king''s territory.


    As they walked, Rhaegar shared his ideas with Lord Caswell, who listened intently and praised him repeatedly. Although the strategies, such as craftsman registration and reiming wastnd, seemed challenging and ambiguous in execution, the expansion of trade into the Reach with Bitterbridge as the first stop promised economic growth and prosperity.


    Within a short time, they returned to the castle where servants had prepared a sumptuous breakfast. Lord Caswell''s wife, a virtuous woman, stood at the door to wee the Heir Prince. Rhaegar greeted her with a friendly smile, enjoying the harmonious atmosphere between ruler and subject.


    While eating breakfast, Rhaegar calmly sliced fresh ham with a table knife. Lord Caswell, sitting straight, invited, "Prince, why don��t you stay in Bitterbridge for a few days and experience the customs of the Reach?"


    As a lord eager for progress, Lord Caswell looked at the yellow centaur emblem hanging in the hall, dreaming of carrying his people forward.


    Rhaegar was moved and thoughtful. He thought of another tournament at the Lake of the God''s Eye, another ceremony on the ind of Dragonstone, and the looming war over disputednds that would involve both sides of the Narrow Sea. The prospect of these events was exhausting.


    The Red Keep was still hosting the Maiden''s Day Festival, adding to his burdens. Most of all, he longed for solitude, away from his sisters.


    Thinking back to his childhood, riding Cannibal and knowing everything, he found his life at sixteen even more exhausting than that of his father, the old king.


    Damn Ormund with his big nose, always saying that Aegon was young. Didn''t he want a little freedom, too?


    Thoughts swirled in his


    Rhaegar''s thoughts were clear, and he was about to agree when��


    "Gah gah..."


    Suddenly, a piercing chirp rang out, and a raven flew through the open castle doors,nding on the table.


    The guards, startled, drew their weapons to intercept it.


    "Stop, this is a messenger raven," Lord Caswell quickly intervened.


    Rhaegar, propping his chin on one hand, frowned as he recognized the dull-headed raven. It was Tormund''s skinchanger raven, often a harbinger of bad news.


    "Looks like the vacation is over before it began," Rhaegar muttered, removing the slips of paper tied to the raven''s legs.


    The first note detailed the previous day''s events at the Red Keep, including Aegon and Hena''s departure with their dragons.


    Rhaegar''s frown turned to a wry smile. "Alicent is really good at self-sabotage."


    In her eyes, he was always a threat. She seemed convinced that once he ascended the throne, he would imprison her and eliminate his younger siblings one by one.


    Aegon, who had a promising future, was now a pawn in her misguided attempts at control. To counter this, Rhaegar would take Aegon on dragonback across the Seven Kingdoms, allowing him to marry a nobledy from any family they favored. With his prestige and Aegon''s pure blood, the nobles wouldpete to offer their daughters.


    As he read the end of the note, he saw that Hena had gone to Harrenhal.


    "Smart girl," Rhaegar chuckled. "She knows to stay away from fools."


    While Aegon might be trapped, Hena remained free. Alicent alone couldn''t restrain a dragonrider without the intervention of her father and brother.


    Opening the second note, Rhaegar''s smile faded as he read the contents.


    It was a message from Myr:


    [The old powerful and noble forces have started a riot. Lower-ss civilians are smashing and looting. The city-state is in chaos.]


    The note ended with:


    [The Magister''s Pce has copsed. Arge hole has appeared underground, suspected to be the ruins of a Dragonlord family...]


    Rhaegar''s eyebrows shot up, and joy surged through him.


    "Dragonlord ruins?" he murmured, excitement tinging his voice.


    Such a find was a treasure trove, an ancient site of immense value.


    Years ago, the Ancient Valyrian Freehold had conquered thends where the nine free trade city-states now stood, creating a vast territory. Lys had been the summer sanctuary of the Dragonlord families.


    Myr and Tyrosh were trading ports under the Freehold. The Doom of Valyria came suddenly, burying many Dragonlord legacies in time.


    The Targaryens, having fled, had scant records of these legacies. Yet, Myr''s proximity to Ancient Valyria made it usible that remnants of the Dragonlord families'' buildings still existed.


    "I cannot guarantee that I will find the systematic inheritance of bloodmages and pyromancers, but uncovering knowledge of dragons, even fragments, would be invaluable," Rhaegar mused.


    However, the riots in Myr seemed suspicious. The suppressed old nobles had suddenly risen up, and civilians, barely surviving before, now had weapons, using the chaos to kill arge number of Fearless soldiers on patrol.


    "Braavos," Rhaegar thought, his eyes narrowing. The quieted city-state likely had a hand in this. Braavos was undeniably powerful, the foremost of the nine free trade city-states.


    But no matter howrge their ships or fierce their mercenaries, they couldn''t withstand the dragonfire. Their strengthy in economic sanctions and trade restrictions, not direct confrontation.


    "A cheap trick," Rhaegar snorted disdainfully.


    To prevent the resurgence of the Triarchy''s old party, he had prepared extensively. As long as his army remained within the city-state, a few skirmishes were insignificant.


    This situation presented an opportunity to root out the disobedient and cleanse the corrupt system.


    Folding the letters, Rhaegar addressed Lord Caswell, "Thank you for your hospitality, but I must depart soon."


    Lord Caswell, respectful and understanding, replied, "You are the Heir Prince, and important matters await."


    He didn''t inquire further, offering unwavering support. Lord Allun Caswell, still young and childless, hadn''t participated in the Maiden''s Day Festival organized by King��s Landing. If not for Rhaegar''s unexpected visit, he might never have had this opportunity to serve the Prince.


    Rhaegar smiled, gesturing towards the castle forecourt, "After I leave, please ensure Lord Peake is safely escorted to Highgarden. Lord Tyrell will handle the rest."


    Lord Caswell��s eyes followed Rhaegar��s gesture. In the forecourt, a figure with a rope around its neck swayed on the gallows, surrounded by a dozen charred corpses.


    Noting the Three Castles House emblem on the chest of the hanged man, Lord Caswell nodded vigorously, "Rest assured, he will be safely escorted."


    The man had been gagged all night, but he was still alive.


    Rhaegar stood and pped his hands, ready to take his leave. After a moment of contemtion, he made his decision.


    The Red Keep was cold and quiet. Returning to Myr seemed the better option.

 Chapter 409: The Bear and the Maiden Fair

    Chapter 409: The Bear and the Maiden Fair


    Stornds.


    Southern Rainwood, Mistwood.


    "Roar..."


    The light silver dragon roared triumphantly, swooping low and unleashing a torrent of dragonfire. Outside thepiszuli-piled city walls, countless Dornish soldiers scattered in all directions, their screams and wails filling the air.


    "Retreat! Hide in the Rainwood!"


    "Scorpion crossbows... aim at the dragon..."


    The battlefield was shrouded in smoke, littered with broken wheels and charred corpses. Scorpion crossbows, crucial siege equipment, became the dragon��s first target, quickly followed by stone throwers and siege vehicles.


    Woooooooo��


    The stirring horn blew, signaling the light of victory. From the southwest direction of the Rainwood, a group of storm knights, numbering in the thousands, charged like a steel torrent.


    With their lines copsing, the Dornish soldiers were reduced tombs for the ughter. In a single round of charging, they were decimated.


    "Open the city gates! Counterattack!"


    On the women��s wall of Mistwood, arge banner bearing a white owl was raised, signaling a counterattack amid loud shouts.


    The gates slowly opened, and dozens of knights charged forward, followed by hundreds of infantrymen. Leading them was a tall, burly man with ck hair and brown skin, cutting down the Dornish soldiers.


    "Sea Smoke, don''t let them escape!" Laenor shouted from the dragon��s back, his eyes glowing with intensity.


    "Roar..."


    Sea Smoke hissed melodiously, deftly swooping and raining dragonfire upon the fleeing soldiers.


    "Hahaha, good job..." Laenorughed heartily, nearly choking as the wind rushed into his open mouth. Coughing violently, he steadied his shaking helmet.


    Sea Smoke squinted, deliberately slowing to intercept the Dornish soldiers fleeing towards the forest.


    With thousands of elite cavalry and an adult dragon, there was no doubt about the oue of the battle.


    The Dornish fled desperately, continuing until midday when they scattered from the Rainwood to hide. Even so, nearly two thousand dead littered the battlefield.


    After the battle, soldiers cleaned up the area while reinforcements entered Mistwood.


    The leading house of Mistwood, the House Mertyns, was led by Lord Mertyns, the burly man who had valiantly led the counterattack. He warmly weed the reinforcements.


    "Ser Laenor, thank you for your aid with Sea Smoke!" Lord Mertyns took Laenor��s hand warmly.


    During the First Dornish War, the House Mertyns had been poisoned by the Dornish, losing all their family members. The hatred persisted through the years.


    Laenor''s dragonfire had decimated many Dornish soldiers, earning Lord Mertyns�� deep admiration.


    "Lord, allow me to send a message to the main force before epting your hospitality," Laenor said, all smiles but ever mindful of the battlefield.


    With the teachings of the Sea Snake, Corlys, Laenor''s abilities were not to be underestimated.


    Lord Mertyns quickly ordered someone to fetch a pen and paper, while servants prepared cattle, sheep, and wine to reward the army.


    Laenor, with a serious expression, wrote two letters and delivered them to Lord Royce in Crow��s Nest and Aemond in the Rain House.


    With Mistwood sessfully rescued, an encirclement was formed against the Dornish forces besieging Stonehelm. With a single order, the war could be won.


    ...


    Time shed by, and soon it was noon.


    The raven was the first to reach Rain House, which was much closer, and the letter was handed over to Aemond.


    "Roar..."


    The ugly, rotten mud dragon hissed shrilly, pping its wide brown wings and hovering over the camp. On idle days, patrolling the camp was the responsibility of Sheepstealer, strictly supervising every goat in the area.


    In the clearing, Aemond stood, filled with annoyance, holding two letters. One was from King''s Landing, detailing Aegon and Hena''s "Matchmaking."


    Aemond frowned in displeasure. "Mother is so mean. Why does she want to marry off my sister?"


    In the entire Red Keep, his sister was the only one who treated him well. She had not yet reached adulthood, and their mother was forcing her to marry out��it was truly excessive!


    Scanning the letter''s content about Aegon, Aemond bristled and casually tossed it aside. If it had been about Rhaegar or young Daeron, he might have read it. But Aegon? Forget it. A fellow who only whored himself out wasn��t worth his time.


    Opening the second letter, Aemond''s expression soured instantly. Ensuring no one was watching, he muttered in disgust, "How did Laenor win the fight so quickly?"


    He had been counting on the defenses of Stonehelm dragging out for a while longer. The thought of House Swann pushing their bastard son to the throne disgusted him.


    Tearing the letter to pieces, Aemond sneered disdainfully. "A man who abandoned his blood rtives doesn��t deserve my help."


    He let the shredded paper flutter in the air, calling out to the idle Sheepstealer. Mounting his dragon, he prepared to search for the Dornishmen hiding in the Rainwood.


    ...


    Dornish Territory.


    Outside the city of Sunspear, the Water Gardens.


    News of the defeat arrived continuously, casting a pall over thevish garden adorned with carved beams and painted walls. The vibrant surroundings now seemed dark and discolored.


    Inside a white stone pavilion, Prince Qoren leaned thoughtfully against a stone pir, his gaze fixed on the garden''s center.


    A meandering brook gurgled, encircled by rockeries and tropical coconut and palm trees. Soldiers d in tawny armor stood at attention, guarding the garden''s corners.


    "Hee hee..."


    A dark-haired, dark-skinned little girl yed by the stream, mischievously sshing water at her maid. Tiring of her game, she wiped the sweat from her forehead and bumbled toward the pavilion.


    Qoren''s brows furrowed slightly as he pondered thetest developments.


    "Prince, the battle in the Stornds has ended in a decimation, and Lord Yronwood is requesting reinforcements," reported a tall young knight.


    Qoren turned to face him. The young man had short light blonde hair, violet eyes, and a tall frame d in silver armor, with a massive sword hanging from his back. The family crest of a sword crossed with a shooting star adorned his armor.


    This was Davos Dayne, the current Sword of the Morning of House Dayne, a noble house renowned for their bravery and martial skill. Their fiefdom, Starfall, was famous for the legendary sword, Dawn, said to be forged from the heart of a fallen star, rivaling Valyrian steel.


    Qoren nced at the giant sword with slight admiration. "Don''t worry about it. War isn''t just about the number of soldiers; it��s also about ravens and intelligence."


    Understanding the perils of war, he had modeled a system akin to the Kingsguard, calling upon Dornish knights to form an exclusive escort. Unfortunately, only Davos Dayne, a formidable warrior, remained as his personal guard.


    Davos, his violet eyes heavy with concern, said, "Prince, Stonehelm''s defenses are weak. It should have fallen by now."


    The young guard suspected Lord Yronwood had ulterior motives.


    Qoren chuckled mysteriously. "You underestimate Lord Olyvar. The truth is, I authorized Stonehelm''s continued resistance."


    "Why?" Davos froze, bewildered.


    The young were inexperienced and oftencked the subtlety of the old.


    Qoren sped his hands to his chest and said smugly, "The Targaryens have dragons. Even if we break through Stonehelm, we��ll eventually be burned by those beasts."


    "Instead of being trapped in the city, it��s better to roam through the Rainwood and utilize the advantages of mountain warfare."


    Davos frowned and asked, "When will we achieve victory, then?"


    Relying solely on guerri warfare seemed like a drain on their troops.


    Qoren shook his head, his eyes deep with thought. "Capturing a castle isn''t the goal. What I want is for their forces to crumble internally, creating an opportunity for us."


    He knew that the allied forces of the Stornds were not as united as they seemed.


    After a slight pause, he asked, "Any news from Braavos?"


    Davos hurriedly replied, "The Sealord sent three supply ships, all equipped with iron and crossbows."


    "Tsk, typical of a free trade city-state, overflowing with wealth," Qoren remarked, his lips curling with envy.


    He pondered further. Braavos was supplying weapons to the Dornish, but they were also supporting the Triarchy. How disorganized were the three city-states? Could they hold off Targaryen''s Rhaegar, Daemon, and Rhaenys?


    If not, Braavos'' mercenaries could attack the ports of Pentos or Westeros, creating chaos. The three adult dragonriders couldn''t be everywhere, and the Iron Throne''s ability to deploy dragons would be limited.


    Davos, still uncertain, pressed on, "Prince, what��s happening in Mistwood?"


    "Don''t worry about it; we��ll know soon enough," Qoren replied with a cold smile. "I��ve sent people to Pentos specifically to deal with that Vryon."


    "Father!"


    Aliandra ran over and jumped into her father''s arms.


    "What is it, my little princess?" Qoren��s smile immediately turned from cold to warm, affectionately tipping his daughter''s cheek with his chin.


    "Father, I want a dragon," Aliandra pleaded yfully.


    "Ahem..." Qoren nearly choked, coughing repeatedly. A dragon? His daughter dared to ask for one when he still longed for one himself.


    Regaining hisposure, he said, "The dragons are in the hands of the Targaryens. Martell only hasnces and wisdom."


    "Then catch me a Targaryen," Aliandra said, her eyes bright with excitement.


    Qoren felt a mix of helplessness and amusement. Setting his daughter down, he indulged her briefly before sending her off with a pat on the back.


    Turning back to the unblinking Davos, Qoren��s demeanor grew serious. "Inform Lord Uller that the Vulture Mountains are ready for a general attack."


    Winning the war would require more than just one battlefield, especially not just Cape Wrath. The Prince��s Pass and the Boneway were crucial. The Reach had been rich since ancient times, and Qoren had coveted it for a long time.


    "Yes, Prince," Davos replied, retreating to find the maester and release the raven.


    ...


    Stornds.


    That night.


    In gratitude for the reinforcements that rescued him, Lord Mertyns hosted a celebratory feast at Mistwood Castle. Except for the standing army units guarding the gates, the castle was alive with chaos and merriment.


    "Roar..."


    Sea Smoke crept into the back garden, enjoying a goat brought by the attendants. Apanying the dragon was Cole, searching for his lover.


    Laenor had left the party alone midway through, and was now nowhere to be found.


    Cole circled the light silver Sea Smoke but saw no sign of Laenor.


    "That guy, where did he go again?" Cole sighed deeply, annoyed at his lover''s evasiveness.


    Since the battlefield had shifted from the disputednds to the Stornds, Cole found it increasingly difficult to catch Laenor. Those unaware might think he had been abandoned.


    Casually tugging on a squire, he inquired, "Have you seen Ser Laenor?"


    The squire trembled and pointed in a direction.


    Without a word, Cole looked where the squire indicated. There, an artificialke was surrounded by awn and several wigwams.


    From a distance, a familiar singing voice reached his ears.


    "A bear there was, a bear, a bear! All ck and brown, and covered with hair. The bear! The bear!"


    It was a song widely popr among both nobles andmoners, "The Bear and the Maiden Fair."


    Cole blushed, recognizing Laenor''s voice.


    He had taken only two steps before stopping again, hearing another familiar voice.


    Besides Laenor, another man was singing with him. Cole''s eyes flickered as he cautiously approached, parting the flowers to peer behind the wigwam.


    To his dismay, Laenor, flushed and shirtless, held a bottle of wine. A handsome blond man, also bare-chested, wrapped his arms tightly around Laenor''s waist. The two men were intimate, acting as if they had been friends for years.


    Cole''s face darkened instantly, as ck as the bottom of a pot. He recognized the blond man.


    Laenor, drunk and joyous, called out, "Joffrey, to celebrate your return to my side."


    The blond man''s pale hands began to move uncontrobly over Laenor. Soothed by the touch, Laenor continued singing, "Ohe they said, ohe to the fair! The fair? Said he, but I''m a bear! All ck and brown, and covered with hair!"

 Chapter 410: Aethyrys Dragonlord Family

    Chapter 410: Aethyrys Dragonlord Family


    Narrow Sea.


    "Roar��"


    A pitch-ck dragon soared past, its wide wings brushing against stretches of white clouds.


    The giant dragon flew over the disputednds and entered the waters governed by Myr.


    "Cannibal, slow down," Rhaegarmanded, his gaze fixed on the distant Free City.


    Myr, built along the coast, was engulfed in rolling smoke, the smell of scorching reaching several nautical miles.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal''s green vertical pupils were icy cold as it plunged into the cool clouds, its huge body gliding low against the waves.


    The dragon''s chest cut through the surface of the sea, stirring uprge sshes. Rhaegar''s eyes never left the nearing Myr. Upon receiving news of the riot, he had rushed back immediately.


    The discovery of arge hole, possibly the ruins of a Dragonlord''s abode, was a windfall. He needed more theoretical knowledge and experience from the Dragonlord family, even the systematic tomes of Blood Sorcery and Pyromancy. At the very least, he sought a deeper understanding of the Ancient Valyrian Dragonlord bloodline.


    His recent transformation into a Dragonborn had brought many subtle changes. Rhaegar urgently needed the appropriate knowledge toy a solid foundation.


    Rhaegar Targaryen


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold)


    Bloodline: Dragonborn (54%)


    Rune: Bronze (Green), Serpent (Blue)


    Blood Sorcery: Dragonstone (Blue), Enchantment Spell (Blue)...


    Relics: Blood and Fire, Dreamscape...


    Evaluation: "Transcendent, an indictment of a new age".


    Silently calling up the Explorer System Panel, Rhaegar reviewed his status and couldn''t help but feel a surge of expectation. His bloodline was constantly being purified, gradually transforming him into a Dragonborn.


    During the ancient Valyrian period, had the topranked Dragonlord families tapped into this and cultivated Dragonborn warriors? The Valyrians had been masters of blood and fire magic, after all.


    Cannibal''s speed was exceptional, and they approached Myr in no time.


    "Roar..."


    A loud and clear dragon roar echoed through the city-state, filled with anger and warning. Rhaegar looked up at the sound.


    A scarlet dragon hovered over the city-state, its wide wings sweeping the wind as it frequently swooped to unleash Dragonfire. Wherever the Dragonfirended, the ragged locals fled in disarray.


    "The riot is still going on," Rhaegar observed, formting a n.


    Meleys circled an area in the center of Myr where the Magister''s Pce was located.


    "Cannibal," Rhaegar patted the dragon''s back, conveying his intent.


    "Roar��"


    Cannibal instantly understood, roaring as it ascended above Myr. The ghostly green Dragonfire it breathed out covered the previously blue sky.


    The entire city of Myr buzzed with excitement.


    Civilians and ves alike kneeled devoutly, bowing to the deity of their faith.


    There was no special reason for this, just one overwhelming fact: a pair of pitch-ck wings that seemed to have emerged from the depths of hell, embodying the essence of death.


    Cannibal did not linger long, circling the entire city beforending in the central area.


    Boom��


    As the dragon touched down, the hearts of countless Myrmen leapt into their throats.


    "Roar��"


    Cannibal let out a deafening roar, its scorching breath dispersing the disorganized crowd who hadn��t found cover in time. Instantly, the entire city-state fell silent, gripped by inexplicable fear.


    Cannibal''s green vertical pupils red disdainfully as the dragon''s feet stepped on the edge of the ruins. It lowered its head for Rhaegar to dismount.


    Rhaegar, d in ck robes and with Truefyre at his waist, surveyed the devastated city center. The disorganized people cowered in the corners, burying their heads and not daring to move. The dragon did not need to breathe Dragonfire to instill terror; its mere presence was enough.


    The moment Cannibal appeared, the chaotic popce finally grasped the reality of their situation.


    Rhaegar didn''t mind helping them remember the horrors of the Deathwing.


    "Roar..."


    Meleys roared roughly, pping its wings as itnded violently. In the stirred-up dust, Rhaenys, d in red armor, wore a stony expression.


    With the two dragons grounded, the previous chaos fell intoplete silence.


    Swish swish...


    A disciplined running sound followed, as hundreds of Fearless d in ck armor blocked the city''s exits.


    Rhaegar, still astride Cannibal, noted that the former Magister''s Pce was now rubble, revealing a wide and deep underground pit. The chaotic citizens seemed drawn to it.


    Dismounting, Rhaegar approached Rhaenys and asked, "Aunt, what''s going on here?"


    Rhaenys''s brows knitted together as she replied indignantly, "Someone spread a rumor that the Dragonlord''s treasure is hidden in that pit."


    She quickly recounted the events: The old noble ss had incited a riot, and someone had supplied the rioters with weapons. They had taken advantage of the night to kill the patrolling Fearless squad, stolen stone throwers and artillery meant for city defense, and attempted to destroy the Magister''s Pce.


    Under indiscriminate bombardment, the pce had copsed, exposing a deep underground pit. Rebels spread rumors that the pit contained the treasure of the ancient Valyrian Dragonlord, promising untold riches and the power to tame a magic dragon to whoever found it.


    Rhaegar''s gaze was unkind as he scanned the hundreds of disorganized people kneeling by the ruins. It was obvious, even without deep thought, that the remnants of the Triarchy had a hand in this citywide uprising.


    And the only ally capable of supplying such arge number of weapons was Braavos, halfway across the Narrow Sea.


    "Our sea power is still too weak," Rhaegar muttered, unhappy with their firepower.


    The only fleets that had be formidable forces in Westeros were House Vryon, House Redwyne, House Manderly, and a few others.


    After the Battle of the Narrow Sea, the Vryon fleet had suffered significant damage but was still capable of garrisoning Lys. The fleets of House Hightower, Lannister, and Celtigar could barely defend the Stepstones. Overall, they had enough to defend but not enough to advance.


    Rhaegar sighed softly. "What''s the situation in the deep pit? Has anyone gone in?"


    "Yes," Rhaenys replied, her face flushed with anger. "Many disorganized people rushed into the deep pit, and..."


    Her words trailed off, unable to continue. Anger clouded her features, but she seemed unable to express it.


    Rhaegar frowned slightly, intending to inspect the pit himself.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal''s green vertical pupils were alert. The dragon''s tail swung in front of Rhaegar, preventing him from moving forward.


    A secondter, a sharp roar echoed from deep within the pit, reverberating likezy water waves.


    Rumble��


    Amidst the chaotic noise, the bloodthirsty Blood Wyrm with a scarlet body and a long neck like a snake crawled out of the deep pit. Rhaegar raised an eyebrow, not expecting to see Caraxes there.


    Caraxes''s vertical pupils were cruel. The dragon''s jaws tore at bloody flesh, and his wide wings released choking smoke.


    Through the dust, a ck-clothed silhouette slowly emerged. Rhaegar watched silently, his eyes glowing with a hint of coolness. No wonder Rhaenys had difficulty speaking��Daemon had taken the opportunity to slip in.


    It seemed the pain of losing his son had driven Daemon to show his presence again.


    Rhaegar beckoned to the nearest Fearless, who handed him a spear.


    "Uncle, a little gift for you," Rhaegar called out warmly, a grin curling the corners of his mouth.


    With a powerful throw, the spear shot like a meteor, aimed precisely at the figure in the dust. Whether or not it would kill him, only the Stranger would decide.


    Tyrosh wasn''t sable enough for Daemon to dare enter his territory and cause havoc without facing consequences.


    Bang��


    The spear shot forward with lightning speed, piercing the dust cloud.


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes was the first to sense the danger, letting out an ear-piercing screech. The ck-robed figure dodged, the spear grazing his head with a close, narrow cut.


    The tip of the spear embedded itself in the rubble with a thud, the wooden shaft splintering from the force.


    "Quite a cheap life you have," Rhaegar murmured coldly, watching intently.


    p, p, p...


    A round of apuse rang out from the dust, and the figure gradually came into view.


    Daemon stepped out with a steady pace,ughing nonchntly. "Nephew, you nearly took your uncle''s life."


    Arge gash marred the left side of his face, oozing blood. If not for his quick reflexes, the spear would have impaled him.


    With a disappointed expression, Rhaegar sighed. "Uncle, it''s a shame you''re still alive."


    Daemon was a perpetual troublemaker; wherever there was chaos, he was in the middle of it. How had he not been pinned by the spear in the ruins?


    As they exchanged words, Rhaegar noticed something in Daemon''s hands. Two heavy books were clutched under his left arm, and his right hand dragged a dragon egg.


    Rhaegar''s gaze sharpened.


    The books were in, their covers depicting a red dragon wearing a crown. The dragon egg was scarlet, its shell fossilized and covered with ayer of stone g.


    Noticing his nephew''s interest, Daemon weighed the fossilized dragon egg twice and said indifferently, "Like it? There are plenty in the deep pit, all carried by the chaotic people."


    "Is there really a Dragonlord''s ruin underground?" Rhaegar asked, ignoring the teasing tone in Daemon''s voice. He was only interested in the facts.


    Daemon nodded. "That''s right. A Dragonlord family named ''Aethyrys'' once owned half thend in Myr."


    As he spoke, he walked over to Caraxes''s side.


    Swish...


    The Fearless moved swiftly, encircling Daemon with spears in hand. Daemon''s expression remained unchanged,pletely disregarding the dozens of armed men.


    "Roar!"


    Caraxes stretched his neck and hissed at the tiny figures that dared to approach within ten feet. The Fearless, as if confronting an enemy, forced themselves to hold their ground, suppressing their fear.


    Daemon nced at them and remarked, "Not bad."


    Man and dragon stood together, radiating an intimidating presence.


    "Stand back," Rhaegarmanded, waving his hand.


    Daemon''s face remained impassive as he said, "This ruin is one of the shelters left behind by the Aethyrys family. Unfortunately, it wasn''t used, but there are still plenty of valuable items inside."


    "Would you really let me have it?" Rhaegar asked skeptically.


    Daemon smiled. "Think what you want. I''ve got what I came for."


    With that, he nimbly climbed onto Caraxes and tucked the two precious books into his armor.


    Rhaegar''s gaze was sharp, fixed on his uncle''s chest. Experience had taught him that knowledge was wealth, and Daemon had certainly found something valuable.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal let out a low growl, its green vertical pupils locked onto Caraxes, radiating a terrifying aura.


    Rhaegar smiled, a hint of danger lurking beneath. Taking something and leaving so easily? What did Daemon think he was?


    Caraxes, vignt, lowered its neck and growled a warning, always on guard against Cannibal.


    The air around them seemed to drop to freezing as the two dragons squared off.


    In the end, it was Daemon who relented first, casually tossing the fossilized dragon egg to his nephew. "Consider the books borrowed. I''ll return them after reading."


    Rhaegar caught the fossilized dragon egg with ease, his dangerous smile fading.


    Waving his hand as if chasing flies, he added, "Be careful with the knowledge in those books and return them within seven days!"

 Chapter 411: Completing the Dragon Taming Spell

    Chapter 411: Completing the Dragon Taming Spell


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes roared shrilly, his scarlet body undting like a snake as he flew away from Myr with Daemon on his back.


    Rhaegar remained calm, watching the man and dragon depart. From Daemon, he had learned that the two books detailed the brief history of the "Aethyrys" family.


    The contents included taming and feeding dragons, blood sorcery, family reproduction, and more��akin to previous Dragonlords history books he has but far more detailed.


    Seeing Rhaegar''s silence, Rhaenys stepped forward to console him. "Ever since Laena lost her son in childbirth, Daemon has developed a great interest in magic, especially regarding the Dragonlords of Ancient Valyria."


    The riot had broken out so suddenly that the Fearless and the Knights of the Vale were scattered throughout the city. Daemon''s timely arrival had dispersed the hordes of rioters who hade to plunder the Dragonlord''s ruins.


    Rhaegar retracted his gaze and said unconcernedly, "It''s fine. Targaryens will have toe into contact with this sooner orter."


    His heir was soon to be born, and the Greens were falling apart under Alicent''s machinations. United with Rhaenyra and Hena, his position was unassable.


    It was time to expose the family to magic; they couldn''t always rely on whips and yelling to control dragons.


    With a determined heart, Rhaegar looked into the pandemonium of the deep pit. Insidey a half-ruin with much yet to be discovered.


    As he pondered, a ttering sound came from the pit and dirty, smelly figures began to climb out. There were quite a few of them - dozens, by his rough estimate.


    Some carried broken sacks of gold, others held gold and silverware. A few held petrified dragon eggs and dragon bone artifacts.


    "Heh, a lot of good stuff," Rhaegar murmured, his gaze cold as he motioned for the Fearless to swarm up.


    Wise noble families never hid all their wealth in one ce, understanding the need for multiple safe havens.


    This semi-hidden site beneath Myr was one of the Aethyrys family''s contingencies. In case of disaster, it was meant to help the descendants rise again.


    Unfortunately, the Doom was a natural disaster, not a man-made one. The Aethyrys family members, along with their dragons, were buried in the eruption of the Fourteen Fires.


    This semi-hidden site had remained unknown until now, bing a windfall for the Targaryens.


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but smile. "The Targaryens could use a windfall like this."


    After a thorough sweep, the Fearless captured all the dozens of troublemakers and detained them at the edge of the ruins. They weren''t alone; the Fearless also apprehended any rebels who ventured into this part of the city, killing those who dared to resist.


    In the end, these were merely poorly trained individuals. Without the advantage of numbers, they were like fish in a barrel.


    Handing the fossilized dragon egg to Rhaenys, Rhaegar said, "Aunt, I''ll go explore the ruins first. I''ll leave this to you."


    "Don''t worry, I''ll handle it," Rhaenys replied, examining the ancient artifacts seized from the chaotic crowd. She felt a responsibility to atone for the Myr riots and was determined to make things right.


    Rhaegar reminded her, "Don''t let any of them go. I have ns for them."


    With that, he leapt into the deep pit.


    The pit looked menacing from above, and the inside was no less intimidating. Rhaegarnded with a thud and rolled to lessen the impact.


    As he touched the ground, he felt the cold ck stone floor beneath his palm and smelled the stench of dried blood.


    Pfft...


    As he drew Truefyre from his waist, the de of the ck sword burst into me, illuminating the path ahead. The passage was wide and deep, lit by the flickering firelight.


    As Rhaegar moved forward, he found the passage surprisingly clean, though damp and cold. He walked fearlessly, his eyes sharp and focused.


    Along the way, he encountered the dead bodies and traces of Dragonfire left by Caraxes. The passage led directly to an underground pce made of ck stone, without any twists or turns.


    The pce was not shrouded in darkness; oilmps hung on the four walls, casting a warm glow. Rhaegar''s nose twitched slightly as he caught a peculiar fishy-sweet odor. His mind raced��he had read about this in the books of the Citadel.


    The Shivering Sea was home to whales and leviathansof enormous size. By processing the blubber of these creatures with blood sorcery, one could createmp oil thatsted for a thousand years without going out.


    Rhaegar was delighted. "To use such extravagant magical creations, this Dragonlord family must have been incredibly powerful," he mused.


    The Targaryens were of middle to lower rank among the Dragonlords andcked such deep heritage. Exile Aenar''s situation had been dire. The Targaryens had migrated with only five dragons, and their magical artifacts were likely limited to the Valyrian steel swords, "ckfyre" and "Dark Sister."


    The Crown of Conquest and the Horned Dagger, made from rare materials, were hardly considered part of the family''s heritage.


    Rhaegar thought deeply. The Targaryens'' migration across the Narrow Sea was probably due to more than the prophetic dreams of Daenys the Dreamer. The threat of another dragonlord family might have driven them to sell their ancestralnds and move.


    He suspected that the Targaryens had failed in a power struggle with other Dragonlord families. After suffering significant losses, they had fled to Dragonstone. This theory also exined why four out of the five dragons they brought from Valyria had perished under mysterious circumstances, leaving only the young Balerion.


    It was possible those four dragons had been wounded or sabotaged by their rivals.


    Click!


    With a kick, Rhaegar opened the lid of a ck steel container. He looked down, frowning slightly.


    At the entrance of the pce, there was a separate area where five oven-like containers were stacked. These containers could effectively retain heat and were used to store dragon eggs. As a child, he often held simr containers and talked to the dragon eggs inside.


    Now, all five containers were lying on the ground, their dragon eggs missing. He didn''t need to guess - they were undoubtedly in the hands of the people outside.


    Looking deeper into the pce, Rhaegar saw rows ofrge crates, emptied and scattered horizontally and vertically. He sighed inwardly. "Their preparations were truly extensive."


    But even the best preparations had their limits. Dragon eggs had a lifespan of a hundred years at most, and without proper preservation, they would lose their vitality within decades.


    Wealth was valuable, but it had to be inherited by descendants. Had it not been for the Doom, the Aethyrys family''s legacy could have made aeback for their direct descendants.


    Stepping over the container that once held the dragon eggs, Rhaegar walked to the center of the pce, where a massive cylindrical stone pir stood.


    The pir, more than ten meters in diameter, had grooves hollowed out on the outside, filled with densely packed books.


    With a sense of awe, Rhaegar gently picked up a book.


    The books were made of paper and had long since weathered so badly that they crumbled at the slightest touch. Rhaegar felt a pang of pity and couldn''t help but curse, "No wonder Daemon only took two books."


    Those two books were made of a special parchment, far more precious and durable than ordinary paper.


    Rhaegar examined the collection carefully. Almost all of the tens of thousands of categorized books had weathered, with only a small portion still readable.


    "Forget it, let''s keep them for now," he decided. These books, mostly biographies of Ancient Valyria and the human geography of the continent of Essos, could be recopied by maesterster.


    Turning around, Rhaegar''s eyes locked onto the surrounding walls of the pce. The walls, also made of ck stone, were adorned with abstract murals.


    A significant portion of the murals depicted dragons, detailing each stage of their lives. There were images of ancient dragons too old to fly, fierce adult giant dragons, and skinny young dragons.


    Other scenes Harpies devouring people, nomads riding horses, and griffins fighting dragons for food.


    The mural also featured several motifs of male and female coitus, with borate andplex actions. Rhaegar''s eyes widened at the sight.


    In the center of the mural, a particr pattern caught his attention. Two adult dragons with crowns on their heads were chasing each other, circling a disk. In the middle of the two dragons, words were inscribed in High Valyrian.


    Rhaegar squinted at the inscription and eximed, "A Binding Magic Spell!"

 Chapter 412: The Victory Method of Childbirth!

    Chapter 412: The Victory Method of Childbirth!


    The orderly arrangement of the words codified a step-by-step pattern for taming dragons,id out in Valyrian script. At a nce, Rhaegar recognized the third row of spells. Above them were the spell "Fly," which aided in taming the dragon, and the spell "Dragonfire," which aided in battle.


    Flight and Dragonfire were both essential. They existed in the High Valyrian scripture and implied dozens of dragon-riding techniques, both simple and obscure.


    Rhaegar was overjoyed andmitted every word of the wall painting to memory. The Aethyrys family had ced an extraordinary value on knowledge. Each dragon-control technique was apanied by a corresponding pattern.


    For example, the simplemand "Land" had variations such as "Emergency Landing," "Battlefield Landing," and "Sea Soaring" carved into the stone walls.


    By using thesemands andmunicating the magic in the bloodstream, a dragon rider could ensure that the dragon clearly understood the instructions, thus avoiding tragic idents such as falling to the ground or drowning in the sea.


    Another example was the "Dragonfire" spell. Through subtle vocabry, the rider could help the dragon maintain "rtive sanity" in various situations and control the direction of its attacks.


    Rhaegar had a clear concept of the supplemental binding spell. It was like a nanny-grade dragon taming manual.


    "No wonder the top-ranked Dragonlord families had so many dragons. This is the meaning of Blood and Fire," Rhaegar mused, reaching out to touch the cool stone wall, his eyes bright with excitement.


    He boldly spected: The Dragonlord families of ancient Valyria lived in topless towers for generations, dedicating themselves to became Bloodmages and Pyromancers. From a young age, their sons and heirs learned to mobilize the magic in their blood and study the techniques of the Binding Spell.


    Once they mastered the full binding spell, also known as "Dragon Taming," they could easily summon a dragon to their side and establish a strong master-ve rtionship. However, this required the ability to tame a dragon and the presence of a dragon to be tamed.


    During the ancient Valyrian period, dragons held a very high status and were loved and respected far more than the Targaryens of today. As a result, the rtionship between the dragon rider and the dragon was one in which the dragon chose the rider, not the other way around.


    Except for a few young dragons hatched from eggs, most of the Dragonlord''s bloodline had to venture to the Fourteen mes under their family''s control to find unowned or wild dragons left behind by their ancestors to tame.


    With a bloodline and a binding spell, about one-third of the Dragonlords seeded. They would find dragons, gain their favor, and fly on their backs. The remaining two-thirds were disregarded by dragons that didn''t see eye to eye or were burned by those with bad tempers.


    In the long run, the Dragonlords were nurtured to be in awe of dragons and screened for excellent heirs.


    Rhaegar''s thoughts drifted far away, his heart filled with emotion. "Apetitive environment of superiority and inferiority - the strong grow stronger and the weak grow weaker," he mused.


    Seeing the cultivation methods of the top-ranked Dragonlord families, he understood why the Targaryen lineage ranked in the middle and lower tiers. During the era of Aenar, they were even close to a generation without dragons.


    Currently, Targaryen dragons were imprisoned and raised from the moment they hatched, limiting their growth and reducing reverence for them. Furthermore, the abilities and personalities of the dragon riders varied widely.


    In Rhaegar''s generation, the siblings were fortunate enough to each tame a dragon, a rarity in ancient Valyria. In Jaehaerys'' time, there were only three Dragonmasters among the surviving descendants, excluding those who died young.


    There were more than five dragons during King Jaehaerys'' reign-Balerion and Dreamfyre in King''s Landing, at least two dragons on Dragonstone, including Cannibal and Sheepstealer, and possibly other wild dragons that may have perished at Cannibal''s hands.


    Cannibal was known to steal eggs and hunt hatchlings. The Sheepstealer and Grey Ghost survived due to luck and their unique characteristics. The Sheepstealer was highly intelligent with strong, thick scales, while the Grey Ghost was an expert at hiding, even from fishermen.


    Young dragons without such skills or resilience would have a hard time escaping Cannibal''s clutches. Even pure-blooded Targaryens were not guaranteed to tame dragons-wild dragons were feared and avoided.


    Rhaegar''s fame grew from his daring challenge of the Cannibal, while Aemond was fortunate to gain the favor of the Sheepstealer and passively tame the wild dragon. Without these two wild dragons, one of the six Targaryen siblings would be without a dragon to tame.


    Rhaegar drew in a deep breath as a sh of insight illuminated his mind.


    He suddenly remembered the Magic Tide!


    "Magic tides don''t happen more than once in hundreds of years, so why did it coincide with the rise of the Targaryens?" Rhaegar frowned, specting.


    In the dream world he had encountered a brief mention of something ominous: a rise followed by a fall.


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as he murmured softly, "cks, Greens, Vryons, Daemon..."


    The Dragonmasters of today were divided into four factions. If any of these factions let their ambitions go unchecked, it could lead to war and dragons fighting each other.


    The Targaryens had united the continent of Westeros for over a hundred years. Yet in that time, only four dragons had died, three of them victims of war: Meraxes, Quicksilver, and the wild dragon of the Smoking Sea, Morghul.


    Rhaegar chuckled, "Division and control have their uses. Ancient Valyria existed for centuries without sumbing to power struggles."


    History confirmed this truth.


    Aegon the Conqueror, the first generation, ruled with his two sister-wives.


    The second generation, Aerys and Maegor, seemed harmonious, though Maegor''s reign was brutal.


    Jaehaerys, the third generation, saw conflict as Maegor killed his nephews Aegon and Viserys, and the ck Bride Rhaena fought for her daughters'' im to the Iron Throne. This era was marked by the fiercest conflict, even resulting in the death of a dragon.


    Aemon and Baelon, the fourth generation, experienced great sadness as almost all thirteen siblings died young.


    It was as if they had been born to be sacrificed.


    Viserys and Daemon, the fifth generation, had a rtionship that broke and healed many times. Rhaenys once challenged for the Iron Throne, and the Targaryen rtionship with House Vryon remained strained.


    In Rhaegar��s generation, four siblings shared the same parents, but his stepmother, Alicent, frequently caused turmoil.


    It had only been six generations, but there was already so much animosity.


    In contrast, during the ancient Valyrian period, the forty dragonlord families continually invaded Essos, plundering colonies and ves. Yet they coexisted peacefully and maintained their glory for countless centuries.


    Rhaegar''s eyes gleamed with determination as he considered this. "Think long term to ensure the family''s eternal prosperity."


    Zira!


    The Truefyre in Rhaegar''s hand shed against the binding magic spell on the mural, leaving no traces behind.


    With a few swift strikes, he nodded in satisfaction. "Well done."


    He considered the possibility that someone else might have entered the ruins. The disorganized rebels posed no real threat; none would survive.


    "Daemon must have recognized it," Rhaegar thought darkly. No wonder Daemon had only taken two books and had been so excited about his haul.


    "Forget it. Sooner orter, I''ll find out," Rhaegar shook his head, not dwelling on it.


    The Binding Magic Spell would eventually be passed on to the family members. The key was to establish strict rules to prevent its misuse.


    Turning around, Rhaegar circled the four stone walls, examining the murals'' contents. The scenes were reminiscent of the ruins of the Berys family.


    Most of the murals depicted the long history of the Aethyrys family. ording to the records, they were once exceptionally glorious, being among the original Valyrian shepherds who discovered and attempted to tame wild dragons.


    However, the family''s fortunes had fluctuated. At the time of the construction of this half-site, House Aethyrys was at its lowest point, ranked in the middle to upper echelons of the forty dragonlord families, having been pushed out of the top ranks.


    At its peak, the family boasted fifty-four dragons and up to forty dragon riders, only slightly inferior to other top Dragonlords families.


    Rhaegar read and savored the history of the Aethyrys family. Taming dragons, breeding dragons, and mastering blood sorcery were the cornerstones of the top dragonlord families.


    And then there was...


    Having babies! Having children!


    Intermarriage within the family wasmon - brother and sister, uncle and niece, aunt and nephew. Often there were multiple marriages.


    External marriages only involved selling off the family''s excess children to the outside world.


    Others Dragonlords Houses?


    Marriages!


    Powerful Seafaring Houses?


    Marriages!


    Native Nobles of thend of Long Summer?


    Marriages!


    These three groups were the core of power in Ancient Valyria: the Dragonlord Houses dominated the skies, Seafaring Houses conquered the seas, and the native nobles of the Land of the Long Summer owned the fertilend.


    Each Dragonlord family did not necessarily intermarry with other Dragonlords, but they did form alliances with the maritime families and the native nobles. Invasions required troops and wealth, and the importance of the seafaring nobles was emphasized along the Narrow Sea.


    The Vryon and Celtigar Houses, both of ancient and noble bloodlines, had been staunch allies of the Targaryens for many years.


    When Aenar went into exile, they followed close behind. The native nobles, however, did not leave theirnds, and the Targaryens lost any alliances they might have had in that regard when they left Valyria.


    Returning to the subject at hand, House Aethyrys produced arge number of heirs through internal intermarriage. These numerous heirs formed a vastwork of alliances, resulting in arge family with even more allies. It was a pure method of having children in order to win.


    However, with power came corresponding troubles. The family did not have enough dragons to share among all its members. Those with dragons held high status, while those without had a lower standing. The more capable members managed more of the family��s affairs, while the less capable waited for death.


    Over time, family power struggles became inevitable. Because of this infighting, House Aethyrys name was both envied and despised by other dragonlord families.


    An internal conflict could be resolved in a matter of months under controlled circumstances. Several, if not a dozen, dragonlords would unite and rally their allies to attack each other. Hundreds of Aethyrys would die in each conflict.


    In the heat of the moment, dragon battles would break out, and even adult dragons would fall. But as soon as the scales of victory tipped, the fighting subsided. To make up for their losses, the victors would aggressively focus on having more children.


    Within a few decades, the family''s numbers would rebound, and new dragon eggs would hatch. At times, the house was unusually united, sharing the same beliefs and goals. Rarely did they disregard the survival of their dragons for the sake of infighting.


    As a result, despite frequent internal conflicts, they managed to stay in the middle of the rankings, although they rarely made it to the top.


    Quite outrageous!

 Chapter 413: Dragon Taming Tools

    Chapter 413: Dragon Taming Tools


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but feel a surge of admiration. It was hard not to be impressed by such a "prolific" dragonlord family.


    "No wonder there are so many depictions of coitus on the murals," he mused. "The ancestors left detailed instructions for future generations."


    He sighed, "An enigmatic family style, no wonder the Targaryens struggle topete."


    Consider the Targaryens:


    Aegon married his two sisters and had only two sons.


    Aenys I had three sons and three daughters, one of whom died in the cradle, while Maegor had no children and murdered two of his brother''s sons in a dastardly act of kinying.


    Jaehaerys I fathered thirteen children, yet none survived to inherit the Iron Throne.


    Rhaegar��s own father, Viserys, had four sons and two daughters.


    "Even without the glory of battle, he lived up to his reputation as the young king," Rhaegar thought. "To be born is to contribute!"


    Daemon fathered two daughters, with one son who died young.


    "Retribution," Rhaegar muttered. "As an uncle, he coveted his niece and tried to kill his nephew."


    Reflecting on his own situation, Rhaegar pondered, "Rhaenyra has given me two sons, which barely meets the standard."


    With the experience of histe mother, Aemma, he couldn��t risk overburdening Rhaenyra.


    "I��ll need other wives," Rhaegar thought secretly.


    The Dragonpit housed young dragons like Stormcloud and Tyraxes, Dragonmont had the masterless Silverwing and the wild dragon Grey Ghost, and Dragonstone Ind had two dozen dragon eggs.


    With more heirs, there would be enough dragons to share.


    Deep in thought, Rhaegar muttered, "Aegon, that boy, is good material for producing children."


    The reproduction of the Targaryen bloodline couldn��t rely on him alone. Aegon, with his boundless energy from frequenting brothels, could be put to better use.


    "Aemond and Daeron must also grow up quickly," Rhaegar mused. "It is our duty to restore the Targaryen glory!"


    "That''s what brothers are for," Rhaegar dered, clenching his fist and pounding his palm.


    In a single thought, he determined the future paths of his younger brothers. The three siblings his father had worked so hard to give him would not be coddled.


    "Make use of them!" Rhaegar decided.


    ...


    As dusk approached, Rhaenys stood guard at the edge of the deep pit, her eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of her nephew.


    "Rhaegar has been down there a long time," she murmured, worry creasing her brow.


    Gray Worm approached from the side, his voice raspy. "Princess, shall we imprison the restrained troublemakers?"


    His abdomen was wrapped in bandages, stained with fresh blood. Rhaenys nced around. Hundreds of Fearless stood in a circle, surrounding a group of kneeling disorganized people. Beyond the ruins, thousands of Vale Knights patrolled, maintaining order in the city.


    The presence of Cannibal had dealt a severe blow to the rioters'' morale, and the chaos was gradually subsiding.


    "Wait a little longer. Rhaegar should being out soon," Rhaenys replied. She knew there was no immediate danger in the deep pit, but it probably contained valuable treasures that would take time and effort to retrieve.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal let out a low growl, its green vertical pupils fixed intently on the deep pit, sensing a disturbing presence.


    Rhaenys and Gray Worm felt their hearts skip a beat at Cannibal''s agitation.


    Rustle...


    The sound of someone climbing echoed, and a figure emerged from the pit.


    "It''s me!" Rhaegar called out, dirty but smiling broadly. His happiness was evident.


    Rhaenys examined him closely, noticing several new items on his person. A scroll hung at his waist, faintly glowing, while he twirled a silver-gray steel ne in his right hand and carried a ckened whip in his left.


    Rhaegar''s smile was infectious, clearly indicating a sessful haul.


    Rhaenys sighed in relief, stepping forward with concern. "I thought something had happened to you when you took so long."


    Had anything gone wrong with her nephew, her cousin��normally passive��would surely fight her to the death.


    "Good things need to be searched carefully. It takes time," Rhaegar said, raising his hands to disy his findings.


    Rhaenys hesitated for a moment, her gaze intensifying. The ne had a ring and sp structure, with a water ripple pattern swirling on its surface.


    "Valyrian steel?" she asked, her eyes widening. She took the ne into her hands.


    Indeed, it was a Valyrian steel ne, made of the same material as Dark Sister. She raised the ne above her head, and under the reddish hue of the setting sun, the round pendant exuded an ancient aura.


    On one side of the pendant, two dragons wore crowns. On the other, strange, difficult-to-understand inscriptions were etched.


    Rhaenys examined it again and shifted her gaze to the bracelet Rhaegar was wearing��a Valyrian steel bracelet with simr inscriptions.


    She wasn''t a fool. She stroked the ne with a sense of reverence, understanding the significance of the treasures Rhaegar had unearthed.


    After a moment, she reluctantly handed the ne back to her nephew.


    "The gods have favored you. Every good thing falls into your pocket," she said helplessly.


    Rhaegar smiled brightly and looped the ne around his wrist. The murals, books, containers, and treasure chests in the semi-ruins were mere fronts; the real treasures were buried deeper.


    Facing a Dragonlord family with an ancient bloodline, Rhaegar expected to find hidden treasures. He used the mysterious scroll capable of detecting ancient Valyrian relics to guide him. Buried beneath the pce''s stone pirs was the Valyrian steel ne he now held.


    Inside the pendant, there was a five-foot square storage space, significantlyrger than the three-foot square of his space bracelet. Inside, a small mountain of gold and various rare ores were stored.


    Rhaenys nced at the pitch-ck soft whip again and asked bluntly, "Is this also a treasure?"


    "Indeed," Rhaegar replied, his smile widening.


    In terms of value, the pitch-ck soft whip surpassed even the space pendant. The whip, ck as the deepest night sky, was made of an unknown material, possibly the tendon of some creature. Its surface was covered with fine, scale-like barbs. The grip, a foot long, was cast in Valyrian steel and inscribed with mysterious runes more arcane than those on the space items.


    Simply looking at it could induce dizziness and difort.


    St!


    Rhaegar flicked his wrist, and the whip flew like a snake,shing heavily against the ground. It stirred up a puff of dust, leaving behind a small pit.


    "Roar��"


    Cannibal suddenly roared harshly, its wings lifting its body as it stood, emitting a pungent odor of ashes. This odor, distinct from the stench of its usual diet, was something only dragons could sense. The air filled with the smell of ashes, making it seem as if a disaster loomed.


    St!


    Rhaegar cracked the whip again.


    "Roar��"


    Cannibal''s green vertical pupils shed with tyranny, and it could no longer hold back a mouthful of Dragonfire.


    Rhaegar''s expression remained calm as he suddenlymanded in High Valyrian, "Attack upwards!"


    The words carried an undeniable, mysterious authority.


    In an instant, Cannibal''s green pupils cleared. Its neck rose high, and it unleashed a torrent of ghostly green Dragonfire into the sky.


    St!


    Rhaegar cracked the whip a third time, a smirk forming on his lips. "Stop!" hemanded.


    Cannibal obediently closed its jaws, lowering its head. Its green vertical pupils locked onto its rider, filled with curiosity as it sniffed vigorously.


    The dragon clearly understood its rider''s instructions and carried them out naturally after years of bonding. Yet the disturbing scent remained.


    As Cannibal��s massive head nudged closer to him, Rhaegar smiled apologetically. "Well done partner, sorry for scaring you."


    He hugged the dragon��s roughly scaled snout, rubbing it affectionately to show his closeness.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal shook its head in irritation, dislodging Rhaegar''s touch. Itsrge, copper-bell-like eyes locked onto the whip in his hand.


    The dragon was certain the whip was the source of its agitation. The sound of itssh had startled it, causing the instinctive release of Dragonfire.


    Rhaegar stored the mystic scroll and the pitch-ck soft whip into the space ne, then wrapped his arms around the formidable dragon once more.


    "Don''t be angry, it''s just a dragon taming tool."

 Chapter 414: Ancient Scale

    Chapter 414: Ancient Scale


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal finally settled down, closing its vertical pupils to avoid looking at its rider. The sudden appearance of the dragon taming whip had inexplicably caused this king of wild dragons to resist. If it weren��t for the fact that the item was in Rhaegar��s hands, Cannibal, with its cruel nature, would have already bitten it to pieces.


    Rhaegar, amused, vigorously rubbed Cannibal''s ck scales. He understood why Cannibal reacted this way.


    The pitch-ck whip was an ancient dragon taming tool known as the Dragon Taming Whip. ording to the ancient books found within the space ne, the dragon taming whip was one of the few effective tools for taming dragons, making its value greater than even a space tool.


    The Aethyrys family, with its noble and ancient lineage, possessed several space props but only two dragon taming whips. One of these, hidden in the space ne, was left for future generations.


    The dragon taming whip had a crucial role. Made from an unknown material and processed by Pyromancers and Bloodmages, it inflicted severe pain on a dragon when it struck, prating even their tough scales. The grip was inscribed with mysterious runes, allowing it to brieflymand the dragon, especially when paired with a binding spell.


    The Aethyrys family used the Dragon Taming Whip to increase the efficiency of their heirs in taming young dragons. The whip''s strike was unbearable for young dragons. During family civil wars, the whip could also calm dragons that had lost their riders, preventing them from rioting and attacking indiscriminately.


    However, the whip was only a tool and was never meant for excessive use. Overuse could lead to rebellion from the intelligent dragons. History recorded instances where a dragon tamer who abused his dragon with a whip was torn apart in retaliation within days.


    Rhaegar nuzzled Cannibal''s snout and softly soothed, "Don''t worry, even if you''re a <em>Dragoneater</em>, I won''t whip you."


    Cannibal opened its vertical pupils, shing with surprise.


    Rhaegar smiled. "You''re not normal, and you might not even be a native dragon of Dragonstone Ind."


    Several ancient books were hidden in the space ne, containing valuable knowledge. Some described the phenomenon of dragons eating each other. Dragons, being highly territorial, normally did not disturb each other. However, in cases of conflict where a dragon was injured, consuming the carcass of another dragon could aid in recovery.


    Another scenario was if the dragon itself had a natural inclination to eat its own kind, stealing eggs and poaching young dragons. This type of dragon was called a "<em>Dragoneater</em>."


    Ancient texts borated on dragon eaters, emphasizing two key points:


    1. They grow faster and are more lethal.


    2. Once identified, they should be executed.


    For no other reason that the appearance of a <em>Dragoneater</em> would lead to the death of many newborn dragons, making them a significant threat.


    There was a mid-ranked Dragonlord family that once faced the tragedy of having a <em>Dragoneater</em> within their house. Initially, the family had over two dozen dragons and numerous dragon eggs stored in the Fourteen mes.


    However, within just over a decade, several young dragons died mysteriously, and all the dragon eggs vanished. When the threat of the <em>Dragoneater</em> was finally discovered, several dragons had to be sacrificed to surround and kill the wild dragon.


    This incident severely weakened the family, causing them to fall from their middling position. First they fell to the middle and lower ranks, and when no new dragon eggs hatched, they slipped even further down.


    It took decades for the family to recover, and only after a new dragon egg was hatched did they manage to climb back to the bottom of the ranks.


    This event served as a harsh lesson and marked the <em>Dragoneater</em> as a universally despised threat. In subsequent efforts toy siege to the <em>Dragoneater</em>, the Dragon Taming Whip, which could brieflymand dragons, proved invaluable.


    Cannibal, a <em>Dragoneater</em>, likely sensed this threat. Rhaegar, good-natured and amused, didn��t resist Cannibal��s instincts. Despite Cannibal''s nature, they had been partners for many years, and their bond remained strong.


    A <em>Dragoneater</em>''s ostracism wasn''t just due to its cannibalistic tendencies. It also had a vicious temperament, often maiming or killing the Dragonlords family members who attempted to tame it. A <em>Dragoneater</em> was a scourge, dangerous both for its predatory habits and its resistance to taming.


    However, Cannibal was Rhaegar��s dragon, and despite its instincts, it had restrained its desire to eat other dragons over the years.


    "Roar..."


    Sensing Rhaegar''s thoughts, Cannibal''s green vertical pupils shed with cunning. The dragon turned away arrogantly, ignoring him.


    It seemed to say:


    Have I eaten a dragon behind your back? Do you even know?


    Rhaegar''s face darkened slightly, and he clenched his fists.


    After ten long years of taming Cannibal, only one young dragon, Stormcloud, had hatched on Dragonstone.


    Good thoughts, Good thoughts, Rhaegar told himself.


    Tessarion''s hatching ce was the Dragonpit in King''s Landing, not to be counted within Dragonstone Ind.


    Rhaegar gritted his teeth silently. "One young dragon in ten years is still normal," he reassured himself.


    As a qualified dragon rider, doubting his own dragon was not an option. Rhaegar forced a kind smile. "Cannibal, you''ll be in the Dragonpit from now on. Dragonstone Ind has changed ownership."


    "What, are suspecting it of eating dragons?" Rhaenys sped her hands on her chest, her eyebrows arching with amusement.


    Rhaegar''s expression tightened, and he didn''t answer.


    Rhaenys continued, "Silverwing is a very fertile female dragon. She has been resting for the past few years, but she shows no intention ofying eggs."


    "I know, Aunt," Rhaegar replied, covering his forehead with his hand. Thankfully, Cannibal had shown restraint.


    Rhaegar shook his head and decided to think of something more pleasant.


    In a sh of inspiration, he called up the Explorer''s System Panel.


    [Lost Dragon Taming Tools]


    Exploration Progress: 10% (Pause)


    [Valyrian Steel. Space Ne]


    Exploration Progress: 15%


    Two ancient relics had triggered additional exploration quests.


    Rhaegar''s mouth curled into a slight smile. "Completing the Binding Spell and obtaining the Dragon Taming Whip by chance has been very lucky," he thought.


    He wondered what other relics the explorer might uncover.


    Phew...


    At sunset, a group of fine cavalry bearing the banner of the three-headed red dragon arrived swiftly. The leaders were Robb of the Second Sons Regiment and Wim of House Royce.


    Upon seeing Rhaegar, both men broke into smiles and knelt on one knee. "Prince, the chaos within the city has calmed down. Please advise us," they said in unison.


    Rhaegar internalized his emotions and asked, "How many soldiers did we lose?"


    In a newly conquered city-state, rebellion was inevitable. It was crucial to manage losses without depleting their own forces.


    Robb''s face darkened slightly. "The rebellion came suddenly. The Second Sons sacrificed over a hundred men, the Fearless lost over five hundred, and the Vale Knights suffered more than eight hundred casualties."


    Wim, simrly, looked down guiltily. After capturing Myr, the army had adopted a rotation system to maintain order. Many soldiers who died were killed while enjoying the city-state in small groups during their off-duty time.


    Hearing this, Rhaegar''s eyes flickered as he nced at the hundreds of chaotic people detained by the Fearless.


    Two thousand Fearless, two thousand Vale Knights, and eight hundred subordinate soldiers.


    More than one-fifth of the troops lost in a single bout of rebellion. It was a significant number.


    Rhaegar''s face remained impassive as he ordered, "Root out the old nobles who provoked the riot and arrest all those who refuse to surrender."


    Robb hesitated. "Prince, the number of rebels is not small."


    All along their route, there were not ten thousand, but several thousand besieging the streets and alleys.


    Rhaegar red at him. "Then arrest them all. Do not spare a single one holding a weapon."


    "Yes!" Robb led the order and moved quickly.


    Rhaegar''s gaze fell on the hundreds of detained chaotic folk. He addressed Gray Worm, "Detain them all and deal with them first thing in the morning."


    Gray Worm nodded, indicating he understood. During the riot, he had been patrolling the streets and had almost been killed by the armed rebels. As an Unsullied, he would show no mercy to those who had tried to kill him.


    It was gettingte.


    Rhaegar walked out of the ruins and headed outside. The Magister''s Mansion covered arge area; while the mainplex had copsed, the outer garden buildings remained intact.


    Rhaenys followed with quick strides, her brows furrowed. "Rhaegar, how are you going to handle this?"


    The riots in Myr were rooted in the provocation of the old nobles and the blind following of themoners. Behind the scenes, it wasn''t hard to guess that Braavos was involved, providing arge number of weapons.


    Rhaegar, in aplex mood, thought of the over a thousand soldiers who had sacrificed their lives. He said, "The only way to pacify a ce is through abination of killing and offering incentives."


    Seemingly careless, his words conveyed a chilling aura.


    Rhaenys'' eyebrows knitted in concern, worried that this might lead to excessive killing.


    ...


    The next day.


    The sky was blue, and the sea breeze carried the scent of thick smoke.


    At Myr Harbor, in the Execution Square, the ckened heads of a gathering crowd chattered and raved. A thousand Fearless and a thousand Vale Knights maintained order, surrounding the square inyers. The air was thick with the smell of fish.


    Most of the crowd were ragged ves, huddled together in fear. At the front of the square, a row of inly dressedmoners knelt, their numbers ranging from one thousand to eight hundred. Men and women, old and young, all bowed in submission.


    In front of them, on a tform made of mud-brown stone bricks, dozens of richly dressed men and women were forced to kneel, their hands tied behind their backs. After days of riots, judgment day had finally arrived.


    "Roar--"


    A roar, as deep as a flood bell, resounded through the harbor as a ck dragon hovered in the air, its wide wings casting a shadow over the crowd.


    "Gulp..."


    Even the innocent ves tensed at the sight of the massive dragon, unconsciously swallowing their saliva. The Deathwing''s fearsome reputation had spread across the continent,parable to the ck Dread that once ruled Westeros.


    "Roar..."


    A scarlet dragon emerged from the city-state and circled the ck dragon. The two dragons danced together in the sky beforending.


    Boom...


    The ground shook as the dragonsnded, their massive feet trampling the harbor floor. Cannibal��s wings supported its body, making it look like a mountain of charcoal-ck coal.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal tilted its head up, letting out an intimidating low roar. Wherever its green vertical pupils gazed, a cold, gloomy aura filled the air, chilling the onlookers to their core.


    "Cannibal, that''s enough." Rhaegar sat steadily on the dragon''s back, in a good mood. As he stood up, a voice rang in his ears.


    "This exploration isplete. Please pick up the lost treasures."


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow as the system panel surfaced.


    [Lost Dragon Taming Tools]


    Exploration progress: 100%


    "Done, a little slower than the space ne." Rhaegar pressed down the corner of his mouth and scanned around.


    On one side of his waist, he wore Truefyre; on the other, he had the dragon taming whip. A red halo, the size of a watermelon, floated over the saddle on his right.


    With experience, Rhaegar reached out and gently poked the halo.


    Bo...


    The soft touch sent a shiver through his hand, and the red halo exploded into a cloud of red light, the starbursts drilling into his hand.


    "Relic picked up sessfully. Detection in progress..."


    "Detection sessful. Determined to be a Legendary Relic: Fourteen mes Remnant."


    "Sure enough, it''s Legendary Grade, worthy of being a dragon taming tool passed down through the ages."


    Rhaegar rejoiced as a tattered scale, named Fourteen mes Remnant, appeared in his mind. With a thought, the scale materialized in his hand.


    The scale was bronze in color, only half intact, and the size of an adult''s palm. It was simr to the [Dragon''s Legacy] obtained from exploring Bellerion''s skull, both exuding a rustic sense of age.


    As Rhaegar touched the scale, the system panel provided additional information.


    <em>"M��ro perzot gihoti / El��dromai?rza sir (Ghostly me and song of shadows)."</em>


    <em>"Izuli amp�� perzi, Pruminti s��teksi (Twoheartsas embers, Forged in fourteen fires)."</em>

 Chapter 415: The Targaryens Will Make You Stand Up Again!

    Chapter 415: The Targaryens Will Make You Stand Up Again!


    "A marriage vow..."


    Rhaegar paused, stunned for a moment.


    The small lines of text revealed the traditional marriage vows of the Dragonlords of Ancient Valyria.


    He pondered briefly and then had a rough idea.


    Marriage, blood, scales...


    The method of activation might require two people connected by blood. The prerequisite: Targaryen blood.


    Rhaegar pursed his lips and smiled. "This will be a bit difficult to decipher."


    He vaguely sensed that the ashes of the Fourteen mes could activate the precious dragon relics in question. This intuition, though elusive, felt very real.


    Flipping the tattered scales in his hand, he realized he would need to return to Westeros to find someone to help.


    With a flick of his wrist, the scales disappeared.


    In their ce appeared a Valyrian steel carving knife, inscribed with codified runes. The knife was only about the length of a palm, its surface covered with rough and unfamiliar inscriptions, and its de exceptionally sharp.


    Rhaegar touched the space ne around his neck, a relic from the morning''s harvest.


    The system panel font shifted.


    [Valyrian Steel. Space Ne]


    Exploration Progress: 100%


    The retrieval and detection screen jumped to the next message.


    "Congrattions, the space ne has been activated and you have obtained..."


    [Carving Knife]


    Grade: Excellent (Blue)


    Function: Excellent Carving


    Evaluation: "Proficient in various carving techniques, simting ancient carving methods."


    The trigger condition was simple: fire magic,mon to Pyromancers and Bloodmages.


    Rhaegar flipped the carving knife in his hand and then retrieved the space ne a momentter. For now, it would not function.


    "It might be necessary to hone the craft until it imitates the mystical inscriptions on other relics," he mused.


    He looked at the knife in confusion. "I can carve stone, but what else do I need?"


    Rhaegar knew little about the ancient techniques that the knife required.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal growled lowly, carrying Rhaegar as it climbed up next to the stone tform. Each step copsedrge swaths of the za''s stone floor.


    Rhaegar shook his head slightly, considering learning some woodcarving, forging, and other skills. "I need to be trained in various crafts," he thought.


    Just as he was contemting this, Cannibal lowered its neck, bringing the saddle of its spine level with the stone tform.


    "Good work, partner."


    Rhaegar smiled and jumped off the dragon''s back with a thud.


    In contrast, Meleys crept to the periphery of the tform, allowing Rhaenys to climb down the softdder under the escort of the Fearless. The human-dragon bond was evident in their coordinated movements.


    "Prince!"


    Gray Worm held his spear and stood tall.


    Behind him, dozens of old nobles knelt, staring at Rhaegar with faces full of abhorrence. Among them were leaders of the old nobles and implicated family members, representing about two-thirds of Myr''s old noble power.


    Rhaegar surveyed them repeatedly, smiled faintly, and asked, "Do you plead guilty?"


    The words immediately drew bacsh.


    "You demon, intruder!"


    "A dragon-worshipping demon as brutal as your ancestors."


    "You invade our homes and take away our ves..."


    Whimpering and raucous, the old nobles who once held their identities with pride now raged likemon street vendors, breaking into a fit without any decorum.


    Rhaegar''s ears hurt from the noise. He walked towards the higher tform, a ce of higher authority. Gray Worm turned to follow, waving his hand at the Unsullied guards.


    Bang! Bang! Bang!


    The Unsullied were expressionless, their spears turning on one end, and their big sticks delivering bang-bang-whacks.


    At once, the shouting and cursing stopped, reced by wailing and cries of pain.


    Rhaenys took three or two steps onto the high tform, crossing over the disorganized old nobles.


    All bark and no bite, they were just a bunch of paper tigers.


    "Roar!"


    Just then, Cannibal roared into the sky, a mouthful of ethereal green Dragonfire shing high above. Instantly, both the old nobles on the tform and the civilian ves in the square fell silent.


    Thousands of pairs of eyes fixated on Rhaegar on the tform.


    Rhaegar''s face remained calm, ustomed to the weight of everyone''s gaze.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal ceased its Dragonfire, but its throat continued to emit a suppressed low growl.


    Rhaegar stood with his arms folded, the ck dragon''s head hanging beside him. One man and one dragon, embodying the presence of a king.


    ttering...


    The civilians and ves fell to their knees in unison, shivering under the gaze of the Dragonlord and the evil dragon. No one dared to face their fear head-on.


    Rhaegar looked down upon them, a sense of grandeur rising in his heart. He shouted loudly, "Stand up!"


    Silence filled the square. Except for the Fearless and the Knights of the Vale, no one dared to rise.


    "I said stand up!" Rhaegar shouted a second time.


    The civilians and ves trembled. A few rose in fear, but most remained indifferent.


    "Rhaegar." Rhaenys, standing to the side, tried to warn him. The power in Myr stilly with the old nobles and ve owners, not with the downtrodden ves who had lost their spirit of resistance over the years.


    "Aunt, the Narrow Sea War is over, and there shouldn''t be so many more deaths," Rhaegar said, his eyebrows softening as he interrupted her.


    In Lys, he had gathered a group of old nobles and wealthy merchants to stabilize order. But here in Myr, seeing that the nobles could not be practical, he had a new reform strategy in mind.


    Turning his back on Gray Worm, he waved his hand gently.


    Gray Worm nodded heavily and gave the order.


    A few Unsullied''s eyes zed over, and their spears fought to stab the old nobles in front of them.


    Pfft...


    The iron spearhead pierced into their body, churning the internal organs as the Unsullied twisted their hands.


    "Hoo~"


    Two men, one woman, and one old man, four old nobles, fell to the ground in agony, their blood soaking their borate clothes.


    Within moments, they were dead.


    The Unsullied moved nimbly, pulling out the spears and piercing the jaws again, lifting the bodies and hanging them above the high tform.


    A grim public disy.


    The remaining old nobles who witnessed this scene were crazed with fear, squealing and struggling.


    The Unsullied showed no mercy, swinging their spears and beating them into submission.


    All of this was observed by themoners and ves.


    "The old oppression is over, you should stand up!" Rhaegar shouted.


    Swish...


    Seeing their former masters executed, many ves stood up excitedly.


    There was nothing more uplifting than seeing those who had enved them put to death.


    Rhaegar deepened the divide, transforming the conflict between the old nobility and the Targaryens into a conflict between the old nobility and the ve ss.


    The root cause of the unrest was rebellion against Targaryen rule. What Rhaegar wanted to do was show the people the evils of the old rulers before they turned against him.


    A sea breeze blew, spreading the smell of blood from the corpses throughout the square.


    All the ves smelled it, eager to take their revenge.


    Rhaegar looked on and asked aloud, "The old nobles and ve masters have oppressed you mercilessly. Themoners struggled to eat and the ves were harassed. Why did you join them in rebellion?"


    Deadly silence.


    Rhaegar looked around and continued, "Now the old nobles and ve owners arembs to the ughter. No one dares oppress you anymore. Shouldn''t you be happy?"


    Themoners and ves looked at each other in dismay, realizing the truth in his words.


    Slowly, they found the courage to rise.


    Rhaegar waved his hand again, his voice stern, "There are no ves in Westeros, and with Myr under the jurisdiction of the Iron Throne, there is no longer any need for enved people!"


    As the words fell, ten Unsullied stepped forward, raised their spears, and ran through an equal number of old nobles.


    Themoners and ves were in an uproar, hugging each other in twos and threes and staring in fear.


    For the new rulers, they had only fear. They feared that if they displeased them, the dragon would burn them to death.


    Rhaegar didn''t care. All he needed was blood for blood to cleanse themoners and ves of their allegiance to the old nobles and make them ept Targaryen rule.


    Gray Worm dragged an old nobleman by the hand and knocked him down in front of Rhaegar.


    The old nobleman had a pair of triangr eyes, his body was as thin as a reed, and he emitted a foul odor.


    At that moment, three people stepped off the stage.


    A wealthy man in rich clothes, amoner with a weathered face, and a ve with scars all over his body.


    A woman and two men, none of them very old.


    The three people walked onto the high stage and stood at Gray Worm''s gesture.


    Without turning his head, Rhaegar snapped, "Tell me, what evil has this old man at your feet done?"


    The ve was the first to rush forward, his dark-skinned face flushed with rage as he shouted angrily, "He has killed many innocent ves, snatched the young children of ves and toyed with them to death, both male and female!"


    Another man also stepped forward and spoke angrily, "He privately raised taxes in the harbor, forcing the fishermen to sell their wives and daughters to him at a low price when they couldn''t afford to pay the taxes!"


    The three men took turns speaking, exposing the old noble''s heinous crimes one after another, each more disgusting and outrageous than thest.


    This was the norm among the captured old nobles.


    As their sins were listed, themoners and ves in the square gritted their teeth, their eyes reddening with empathy and rage.


    In a free-trading city-state like Myr, somemoners and ves did live better lives.


    But it was never them.


    Whenever life fell short, anyone had the right to resent.


    Swish!


    Rhaegar drew Truefyre, and with a swing of his pitch-ck sword, he decapitated the old noble.


    Tens of thousands of eyes stared at him in unison.


    Rhaegar held his sword in both hands and dered, "The old nobles and ve traders have forced you to kneel by worldlyw; the Targaryens want you to stand!


    "There are no ves in Westeros, the Iron Throne treats everyone the same!"


    His voice was deafening and went straight to the heart.


    At that moment, his silver hair and purple eyes were imprinted in the eyes of all civilians and ves.


    He reced their stereotypes of brutality and evil dragons by ideals of equality and justice.


    A kneeling ve angrily rose up, tearing his voice to shout.


    "Long live the Targaryens!"


    A stone sent up a thousand ripples.


    More ves rose to their feet and raised their voices.


    "Long live the Targaryens!"


    "Long live the Dragonlord!"


    Above the Fish execution square, not a single civilian or ve remained kneeling; all stood straight.


    Their eyes burned, their voices broke, all looking at one person.


    Rhaegar Targaryen.


    At this moment, Rhaegar also looked at them and raised his hand in a strong wave.


    The Unsullied struck quickly, stabbing all the old nobles on the stage through the chest.


    One of them cursed loudly in his final moments, "Invaders! The other free trade city-states won''t let you go!"


    Rhaegar calmly replied, "It is not the Targaryens who destroyed you, it is your insatiable greed."


    Without their own oppression and envement, this day would not havee.


    "Roar!"


    With a growl, the Cannibal''s huge body climbed to the side of the high tform, its green vertical pupils staring at the detained crowd of disorganized people.


    In front of the civilians and ves, Rhaegar raised his eyebrows and said aloud, "The Targaryens brings peace and justice, but it does not allow for questioning or harm."


    "In the name of Viserys I Targaryen, I sentence the rebels to death!"


    After saying this, he looked sideways at the Cannibal and mouthed the dragon-taming words, "Dracarys!"


    The words were spoken in High Valyrian, containing waves of arcane and powerful magic.


    Its meaning was: Burn them all.


    The Cannibal''s vertical pupils shed with cruelty, and its jaws opened wide.


    "Roar--"


    The monstrous Dragonfire swept out, enveloping thousands of people like smoke and mist, turning the square into a sea of green dragonfire.

 Chapter 416: Braavos’ Intelligence

    Chapter 416: Braavos�� Intelligence


    A few dayster.


    Myr, Dancing Street.


    Situated in the western district of the city-state, the area was small and cramped, favoring the convergence of thergest number of ve groups.


    As far as the eye could see, the grayish-white rotten buildings were densely packed, resembling a messy beehive.


    "Keep order, don''t cut in line!"


    Near noon, hundreds of Unsullied soldiers split into two lines to maintain a long queue of ves.


    The number of ves stretched far into the distance, all lined up in rags, many dragging their families along.


    Thanks to the looseyout of this slum, several simr lines extended outward, each guarded by specialized Unsullied soldiers.


    At first nce, it looked like a distribution of free porridge.


    In reality, it was not.


    At the front of the line, a dark-skinned ve held a four-sided stone que in his hand, dancing with excitement.


    "que, I have a que!"


    The shout was so loud that he wished for everyone to hear it.


    The ves around him didn''t reject it but instead cast envious and expectant eyes.


    "Next, what''s in hand?"


    A stone table was set up at the end, and an elderly ve in coarse linen clothes buried his head, asking the next ve in line his usual question.


    The man was thin, his skin darkened from the sun, and he cowered under the questioning.


    Humbly, he spoke, "Stonemason, I used to repair pces for ve owners."


    The elderly ve raised his eyes and pulled out a triangr stone tablet from a basket at his feet with hisrge, dry hand, asking for details of his name and age.


    The skinny ve told the truth and was also careful to name his hometown before being trafficked.


    "That doesn''t need to be known, from now on you are all citizens of Myr."


    The elderly ve''s voice was raspy as he used a special dye to write down the information on the stone tablet.


    The stone tablet was then handed to a group of neighboring craftsmen.


    Someone took the stone tablet, picked up a chisel and carving knife, and marked it ording to the dye.


    After a few moments, the stone tablet was formally handed over to the skinny ve.


    Seeing the other person''s excited expression, the elderly ve raised his eyebrows and asked, "The stonemason trade is short of people, two meals and half a copper star a day, do you want to do it?"


    "Yes!" The skinny ve agreed in one breath, carrying the triangr stone tablet, and joined the team of craftsmen carving stone tablets on the spot.


    The elderly ve was used to this and continued to ask the next ve for information.


    The stonemasons stayed behind to work, the literate ones stayed with the healers, and the old, weak, women, and children returned the way they came.


    The stone tags issued varied.


    Common ves were given squares, various types of craftsmen were given triangles, and healers were given circles.


    Each stone tablet served as a piece of identification, recording name, age, and craftsmanship.


    Holding it was the only way topletely get rid of very and be a full-fledged citizen of Myr.


    ...


    The former site of the Magister''s Mansion.


    Therge hole in the site of the Dragonlord has beenpletely sealed off, and the ruins have attracted arge number of workers freed from very to take care of the cleanup.


    In a garden building, a white stone loft.


    Rhaegar leaned against the wide floor-to-ceiling windows, holding a stone in one hand and carving with a knife in the other.


    His hands, white as jade, moved deftly, sending shards of stone falling like snow as he carved a simple four-sided stone tablet.


    Thud!


    Casually tossed, the que fell into a nearby basket.


    Rhaegar''s expression remained unchanged as he continued to carve the next piece of stone.


    He seemed like an emotionless stone carving machine.


    Knock knock...


    Across thevishly decorated room, there was a knock at the door.


    "Come in!"


    Rhaegar''s hand was a little sore, and he casually greeted the visitor.


    Creak��


    The door to the room pushed open, revealing Grey Worm in ck armor.


    Grey Worm tilted his head, straightened his non-existent cor for the sake of solemnity, and strutted into the bedroom.


    Since the event a few days ago, the bloated, rusty machine that was Myr had been back up and running, and everything was thriving.


    In particr, the entire city-state was in a positive mood as the former ve poption had left very and moved closer to the Iron Throne asmoners.


    Capturing the city-states, freeing the ves, and establishing a new order...


    Grey Worm, who was born as a ve, felt honored and d that he had made the right decision and followed the right person.


    Seeing that Grey Worm did not speak for half a day, Rhaegar dropped the engraved stone que and said, "Say something, or get to work."


    A bit of awareness, I��m working and youe to stand around?


    Although carving wasn��t just about filling in gaps, it was also about sharpening one''s skills.


    "Ahem..."


    Grey Worm''s face reddened slightly with embarrassment. He coughed lightly twice to hide it and said, "Prince, there is a letter from Gulltown, from Lady Jeyne of Eyrie."


    "Jeyne?"


    Rhaegar was surprised and put down his carving knife.


    ng!


    When the carving knife touched the marble floor, it made a crisp, pleasant sound, slicing through the marble like iron.


    Rhaegar let out a "tsk," momentarily forgetting the sharpness of this tool again.


    After several days of use, it had no special effect but was incredibly efficient.


    Grey Worm stole a nce and pulled out a letter while gently suggesting, "The city has recruited enough stonemasons; you don��t need to do this yourself."


    The policy of identity stone tags had been proposed by the Prince, and was initially seen as a pie-in-the-sky, time-consuming, and tedious endeavor.


    There was a saying in Tyrosh: for every word from a ve owner, a ve must be prepared to have his legs cut off.


    Unexpectedly, the introduction of the identity stone ques caused a great response, especially among the vemunity. Everyone fought for it.


    Even if Myr''s very system was overthrown, the ves who couldn��t feed themselves still had doubts in their hearts, and they couldn��t shake off the shadow of being enved for decades.


    It was impossible to get rid of the lowly status they once had.


    Rhaegar, familiar with history books, understood the importance of a sense of belonging.


    Through fragmented images in his dreams, the concept of identity stone tags came to mind.


    By issuing identity stone tags in the name of the Iron Throne, ves who obtained them would no longer be ves and could loudly proim themselves as legitimate citizens.


    Although the essence was just a simple stone, it could fill the inferiority in a ve''s heart.


    At the same time, it created unimaginable cohesion through the stone tablet.


    The effect was simr to the unified coinage system of Westeros, where one knew the origin of the coin as soon as it was used.


    ves holding the stone tablets were very happy to shout that they from Myr.


    Because they were no longer ves.


    Rhaegar listened to Grey Worm''s admonition, acknowledged it, and murmured, "Instruct the stonemasons to speed up the progress and strive to carve stone tags that satisfy everyone. Increase the reward from half a copper to one."


    The stone tags were important but only for a short period of time.


    To maintain the effect, people still had to be sustained.


    Myr was in a state of flux, and creating jobs allowed the poor to earn a living.


    The food provided by the Iron Throne went back into their pockets.


    Either way, this not only fueled the city-state''s economy, but also increased the motivation of the former ves.


    Having seen the power of the prince''s policies, Grey Worm had nothing to disobey and immediately said, "I will inform them."


    "Remember to recycle the scattered coins and uniformly issue the new copper coins," Rhaegar reminded as he took the letter.


    This was one downside of free trade city-states: the coinage system was scattered, and the coins introduced within the city-states did not circte well.


    As a trading city-state that traveled in all directions, there was no excuse for this.


    But, during reconstruction, using the currency of Westeros as much as possible would help increase the sense of identity among the people.


    When the harbor is redeveloped, one can consider starting a small bank solely owned by the Iron Throne to ease the pressure from the Iron Bank.


    It was difficult to keep getting stuck with Braavos on the economic front.


    Gray Worm nodded quickly, making a mental note to remember Rhaegar''s instructions.


    Rhaegar smiled and opened the letter sealed with red wax, saying, "No need to be nervous, the current atmosphere is just fine."


    As a child witnessing the chaos in King''s Landing, Rhaegar had longed to implement measures to establish order.


    At the very least, he didn''t want the disced people from all over to flood into the city, causing overcrowding and a rise in crime.


    Unfortunately, Westeros was rife with prejudice and resistance to change, giving him little opportunity to act.


    Myr, however, was a different story. Here, he had the freedom to implement his ideas.


    The introduction of identity stone tablets provided the people with status symbols, effectively discouraging outsiders.


    The information on the stone tablets was also crucial, mapping out the identities of craftsman, healers, religious figures, and so on.


    These people were hidden talents, essential for forming the new system.


    Grey Worm, relieved but maintaining his serious demeanor, reported on recent affairs in the city, bothrge and small.


    Rhaegar intended to use this period to establish a new system in Myr, with the initial goal of strengthening centralization.


    Westeros operated under a feudal system, with power scattered like a bowl of rotten porridge.


    In contrast, Myr had only one city-state, providing an opportunity for the unification of governmental orders.


    Rhaegar listened attentively to Grey Worm''s report while reading Jeyne''s letter with a good mood.


    Thest time he saw Jeyne was in Gulltown.


    The general process included burning the Braavos fleet, disciplining Aegon, and reorganizing defenses.


    They even found time to get intimate.


    As he read the letter, Rhaegar''s expression changed several times.


    [Braavos has hired a fleet for the second time, and it has joined with Qohor to buy off the Dothraki cavalry; they are preparing to attack Pentos].


    "Braavos is still relentless," Rhaegar muttered, furrowing his brows.


    Since their failed surprise attack, Braavos had shifted from overt actions to covert ones, providing Dorn with food and weapons, inciting riots in Myr, and hiring mercenaries to provoke conflicts in the Stepstones Inds.


    All these actions made it increasingly difficult to bring the war to a close.


    " If you daree, you will die!" Rhaegar said coldly, his attention returning briefly to the letter as he continued to study it.


    At the end of the letter, a handwritten note from Jeyne contained only a few sentences. Rhaegar''s gaze intensified as he absorbed each word, his expression changing subtly with each line.


    Meanwhile, Grey Worm continued his report, unaware of Rhaegar''s growing distraction. "The repairs to the harbor areplete, and Lady Karl has rebuilt the dye factory. She has also applied for port trade development."


    In Myr, three temporary representatives had been appointed to represent the ves, themoners, and the old nobility. Karl, from the servile faction of the old nobility, focused on Myr''s specialty in textiles, especially cloth andce.


    As Grey Worm spoke, he noticed Rhaegar''s wavering attention and lowered his voice, "Prince, are you alright?"


    Rhaegar, snapping out of his reverie, lifted the letter with a grin. "Good, very good!" he eximed. The sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows illuminated the letter, making the thin pages nearly transparent and the words almost indistinct.


    Flipping the letter back and forth, Rhaegar��s smile grew wider, barely containable.


    Observing this, Grey Worm ventured cautiously, "Something good?"


    "Nonsense," Rhaegar replied with a grin that contradicted his dismissive words. "Go down, contact Pentos first, then send a message to Tyrosh."


    Braavos'' intention to attack Pentos, an ally under the Iron Throne, was problematic, but Rhaegar was not eager for a confrontation. Recent reports indicated that Daemon had finally subdued the Tyrosh rebels and was preparing to bolster their defenses.


    Don''t think that you can have a free city and not make a contribution to the cause.


    Grey Worm, his face a mask of dutiful solemnity, nodded and exited.

 Chapter 417: Pioneering Lords

    Chapter 417: Pioneering Lords


    Bang��


    The door to the room closed hastily, signaling the urgency of the one who had just left.


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but grin as he held up the letter, his heart swelling with joy. Jeyne was pregnant. The timing suggested it was from theirst encounter in Gulltown.


    He murmured to himself, "Am I actually decent at this whole fatherhood thing?"


    Already, his thoughts were consumed with the future of his yet-to-be-born third child. He wondered if it would be a boy or a girl, and if it would inherit the distinct features of House Arryn.


    He vaguely remembered that Targaryen tradition often saw the firstborn inherit the mother��s physical traits, especially if the mother was from a different lineage.


    Rhaegar thought for a moment, then smiled and muttered, "It''s my child, it doesn''t matter if they like an Arryn."


    Rhaenyra''s children were already destined to upy the positions of first and second sons, so there was no need to worry about Jeyne��s childpeting for titles. He was ready to ept this child wholeheartedly.


    Besides, having an Arryn-looking heir would make inheriting the Eyrie and the Vale more logical in the future.


    "Uh huh..." Rhaegar''s eyes sparkled with anticipation.


    Jeyne had not yet been given a formal wife title, which meant her child would technically be a bastard. But with the ongoing war, the n to formalize more marriages was still far off.


    And then there was the hurdle of Rhaenyra. The Faith of the Seven would likely protest loudly, and many traditional nobles would oppose such arrangements.


    There were also lords who would use the situation to challenge Jeyne''s, opposing the inheritance by a woman.


    Rhaegar weighed his options, but no clear solution emerged. The only way to break through these obstacles was to be strong enough.


    He nced sideways at the blue sky over Myr, his mind already strategizing.


    Myr, nestled in a Bay and bordered by the Sea of Myrth that flows into the sea, boasts an ideal and strategic location.


    The city-state''s creativity and ingenuity are evident in its well-developed industries, including high-density lenses for astronomical observation, triple-shot crossbows, and delicatece.


    Myr''s architecturebines elements of bothnd and water styles. The city is adorned with white stone pavilions, fountains, statues, and zas. A small, meandering river flows through moats inside and outside the city-state, connecting the port on the west coast with the Sea of Myrth in the east.


    Wealth is plentiful in Myr, and several small banks operate within the city. To avoid provoking public anger, Rhaegar has chosen not to interfere with these banks for now, leaving that task forter.


    As he surveyed the city, Rhaegar couldn''t help but be mesmerized. "What a treasure," he muttered to himself.


    Of the three city-states, Lys and Myr were his favorites. Lys had thergest poption and a thriving pleasute houses industry, making it home to many wealthy individuals.


    Myr, however, was the most versatile, boasting some of the finest craftsmanship in the world. Its location on the Essos maind made it a prime candidate for colonization and expansion.


    Initially, Rhaegar had nned to leave Lys to Daemon, drawing 50% of its city-state taxes and using it as an overseas transit station. However, Daemon''s arrogance led him to seize Tyrosh, a city in rtive decline.


    Tyrosh was known for its mercenaries and thriving ve trade. Attempting to eradicate very and stabilize unemployed mercenaries was a daunting task, but Daemon seemed eager to tackle it himself. Rhaegar decided to let him suffer the consequences and see if he had the talent to rule.


    "Myr is and worth developing," Rhaegar thought, his violet eyes glowing with a bit of light.


    He considered the backup measure of marrying again to ensure that even if a child could not inherit the Eyrie, they would carry the Targaryen surname. If the child was not weed elsewhere, he would divide Myr among them.


    He was not afraid of sibling rivalry. Dividing territories among his children and turning their focus outward was the right approach.


    Harrenhal, the Prince''s Pce, Lys, and Myr were enough to provide for four children, excluding the eldest son who would inherit the throne. If that wasn''t sufficient, he could take Dorne, which, despite being a desert, had rich oasisnds that could be divided among his children.


    Rhaegar looked up to Aegon the Conqueror and his great-grandfather Jaehaerys. Conqueringnd while having children was the path to Targaryen strength. Morend meant more children, and more children meant morend to conquer.


    With each generation, Targaryen would grow stronger, avoiding endless internal conflict. Rhaegar''s vision was clear.


    This is not the time of Ancient Valyria, where forty Dragonlord familiespeted against each other.


    In the present day, thends without dragons are plentiful, and the Targaryens, whomand these majestic creatures, are seen as the Chosen Ones.


    Having tasted the sess of dismantling the Triarchy, Rhaegar''s enthusiasm for conquering newnds grew stronger.


    Invasion? No. Essos was originally a colony of the Freehold.


    By reiming these lost territories, the Targaryens would be restoring the glory of the Freehold.


    With this thought in mind, Rhaegar picked up the fallen carving knife and prepared to head out.


    He was only 16 years old and already on the verge of bing the father of three children.


    Given his Longevity, he could live to be a hundred years old.


    At the current rate of births, it was difficult to estimate how many heirs he would have.


    He was determined to fight and secure territory for his descendants.


    ...


    Myr, outskirts of the eastern city.


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    Two adult dragons, one ck and one red, circled overhead, leading the cavalry below as they sped along.


    In the distance, the thick walls of Myr were faintly visible.


    Cannibal pped its wide wings and glided low, exploring towards the southeast. After about a quarter of an hour, a cavalry group of several hundred riders stepped onto a wide avenue paved with ck dragon stones.


    This was Valyrian roads, a special path for the transportation of supplies and armies during the ancient Valyrian period.


    The road branched off in two directions: one leading to Pentos in the north and the other to Vntis along the Rhoyne River.


    At one time, there were more than just the nine Free Cities; there were also more prosperous towns in the western part of Essos. Unfortunately, these went up in mes with the destruction of ancient Valyria.


    In the present, the road to Pentos ends halfway. The road to Vntis is even morepletely destroyed, ending in a barren wastnd.


    "Roar-"


    With a snarl, Cannibal leapt over the low, barren woods and flew over the wide river.


    The great river flowed swiftly, heading southeast. At the end of the river was a vast stretch of unimednd in the eastern reaches of the three city-states of Myr, Tyrosh, and Lys. This area is known as the Disputed Land.


    In the center of the Disputed Land are two huge, unnamed indkes. The river then led to these indkes, connecting the northern half of the Disputed Lands.


    Rhaegar rode on the back of his dragon, overlooking the long river and thend below.


    The fast river had less sediment umted in its channels. Irrigated by the river, thend was fertile, and the mountains were filled with various shrubs and herbs.


    The most satisfying point for Rhaegar: thend was t enough, a standard in.


    To the northeast of Myr were the HillsofNorvos. To the east was the confluence of the Rhoyne and other minor rivers, which formed a natural partition.


    In other words, thisnd was perfect for farming.


    After flying for a while longer, Rhaegar instructed Cannibal tond. The dragon picked a piece of riverbank, and its huge body slowly descended.


    "Roar..."


    Meleys circled twice and alsonded not far away, carrying Rhaenys.


    Aunt and nephew looked at each other and silently surveyed the nearbynd.


    Half a minuteter, the cavalry of the Second Sons Regiment, led by Robb, arrived.


    Robb rolled over and dismounted, ordered the brothers of the Second Sons to look around, and walked towards Rhaegar with a few of his capable subordinates.


    "Prince, what are your orders?" Robb''s face was serious.


    Rhaegar waved his hand dismissively, "Don''t be so nervous, just take a moment to appreciate thend we''ve conquered."


    The Triarchy was broken, and the so-called Disputed Lands were now Targaryen territory.


    Robb, being a resourceful individual, observed the river bays piled up with fine sand and couldn''t help but recall the fertile soil and rich vegetation they had encountered on their journey. Thend alone was as valuable as any he had seen, it justcked poption and towns.


    Rhaegar minced no words, saying bluntly, "The brothers of the Second Son Regiment have no fiefdom, and the Disputed Lands have no lord. They deserve recognition."


    To truly control the three city-states, the Disputed Lands had to be used. Myr was well-positioned, with hundreds of thousands of ves with skilled skills, and trade could be reopened to gain wealth.


    Lys and Tyrosh, however, had made their fortunes selling ves, pleasure houses, and mercenaries, all of which were forbidden in Westeros. Rhaegar was personally unwilling to profit by such means.


    With a growing ve poption and countless ves,nd was the solution. He would divide thend among the loyal knights of the Regiment of the Second Sons, make some of the ves into lords, and thus establish his territory in Essos.


    Robb was surprised at his words and, after some thought, spoke up.


    Rhaegar encouraged him, "Speak your mind. You are themander of the Second Sons Regiment; it is only right to fight for their interests."


    "Prince, with all due respect," Robb began, choosing his words carefully, "thend is indeed fertile, but the brothers of the Second Sons Regiment are all poor. Even with the pioneering order issued by you, they don''t have the money to run their territory."


    A qualified noble territory needed at least a castle. Additionally, farming tools, grain to feed the people, and mills to process rice and flour required significant capital investment.


    Robb was confident that if the men under hismand had that kind of money, they would rather retire to a Lys''s Pleasure House for the rest of their lives.


    Rhaegar felt Robb''s concern was justified, for he had already thought about these matters. There were manynds in Westeros, but few poor knights had started from scratch to create a new noble house.


    The highlight of a noble''s second son''s life, aside from the death of his older brother, was often serving the great nobles. Formoners, being ordained a knight was considered a blessing from the Seven Gods.


    It was the poor knights who were the mainstream of society, providing human resources for the ongoing noble endeavors.


    Rhaegar thought for a moment, then spoke seriously, "The royal family can provide some of the loans. How many do you think would dare open up new territories?"


    "Prince, the treasury doesn''t have that much money," Robb replied with a sad face.


    Asmander of the Kingsguard, he had often heard Master of Coin Lyman''sints.


    "I know better than you how much money the treasury has," Rhaegar said, his expression unchanged. "I want to open up the Wastnd, and I need at least thirty new lords willing to try."


    "Thirty people..." Robb''s face softened a little. He clenched his teeth and said, "I can find them, but they will need enough money, as well as the help of maesters and healers."


    Without sufficient funds and technology, failure would be inevitable.


    "No problem. Survey thend along the Myr River bay and identify areas suitable for remation."


    Rhaegar gave Robb a heavy pat on the shoulder, his determination evident.


    There were knights of the Second Sons who were willing to be lords, and there were ves who could act asborers��just what was needed.


    As for where the money woulde from?


    The Iron Bank.


    Turning to Rhaenys, Rhaegar looked expectantly and asked, "Aunt, can House Vryon still get in touch with the Iron Bank?"


    "In the middle of a war, the Iron Bank will not lend to the enemy," Rhaenys sighed softly, quickly understanding her nephew''s thoughts.


    Rhaegar grinned, his eyes shing with determination. "If we can''t ask it from the Iron Bank, we can use the local banks do it for us."


    All three city-states maintained banks, and these resources could be utilized.


    The Iron Bank, as thergest bank, would not pass up the opportunity to annex other smaller banks.


    As for whether the Sealord of Braavos would object?


    The Sealord was just one figurehead; he couldn''t represent the entire power structure behind the Iron Bank.

 Chapter 418: Dorn’s Great Attack

    Chapter 418: Dorn��s Great Attack


    The Next Day


    Morning came to Myr, and the city buzzed with repair and rebuilding activity.


    West Coast Harbor


    The sea rippled gently as several three-masted sailing ships anchored, their broad sails billowing in the wind. On the shore, a squad of Fearless stood tall, d in ck armor and wielding spears.


    Rhaegar watched the hundreds of Second Sons before him with a nd expression.


    "Prince, thank you for your kindness. We will not fail you," said a young man with a silver trout emzoned on his breastte. His voice was solemn, full of power.


    Several young knights stood beside him. These knights wore no noble coats of arms on their armor, indicating that they were of bastard ormoner descent, much like thendless knights.


    Rhaegar smiled faintly and instructed, "Communicate well with Old Lord Tully and exin the Iron Throne''s loan information."


    He then repeated the instructions to the rest of the Second Son regiment.


    Thirty Second Sons of noble birth had obtained the Pioneering Order and enlisted theirpanions of lower birth to assist them.


    The young man from House Tully nodded vigorously, his seriousness evident. "Don''t worry, we will do our best to convince the house head to support us."


    "Very good," Rhaegar praised, "The war won''t end for a while; you have plenty of time."


    After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the hundreds of members of the Second Sons regiment, with grateful faces, saluted in unison and boarded therge ship flying the g of the three-headed red dragon.


    The Iron Throne''s money alone was insufficient to establish a territory. The men traveled back to Westeros to garner support from their family elders, hoping to build their territories better and faster with the help of knights, experienced farmers, cksmiths, and artisans. They would also need a certain amount of armor, weapons, and war horses to be considered qualified lords.


    The waves gently churned as tworge ships sailed out of the harbor. Rhaegar watched silently, his violet eyes reflecting deep thoughts.


    Issuing the Pioneering Order was a good strategy to solve the surplus of ves and reim the disputednd. However, it wasn''t enough.


    In all free trade city-states, ve owners would encirclend outside the city-state for their own use, nting orchards and farnd. Interrogating the executed vers revealed that these ces yielded good harvests every year.


    Orchards and farnd were vitalponents of the city-state''s economy. Previously controlled by vers who used ves for cultivation, these profitablends now fell into Rhaegar''s hands, offering great potential.


    As he pondered, several differently dressed figures approached��gorgeously attired women, wide-bodied civilians, and even old ves in rags.


    Rhaegar''s ears twitched slightly as he turned to stare at them. The approaching figures looked humble, hurriedly lowering their heads under his gaze.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were intense as he stared at the middle-aged, overweight man. "Sandro, clean up the manors outside the city and reorganize themoners to work," he ordered.


    He was considering reforming the manor system, introducing a newbor rtionship and payment method. The Iron Throne would assign manor owners to various agricultural tasks, with points awarded for each jobpleted.


    After each season''s harvest, these points could be exchanged for supplies or money. In this way, workers would receive benefits without falling into an oppressed mindset. By avoiding direct mary payments, unauthorized strikes could be prevented, ensuring the smooth operation of seasonal agriculture.


    Sandro, his face full of determination, replied, "Yes, Prince. I will quickly restore order to the manors."


    Rhaegar nodded and turned to the aged ves, their faces etched with the hardships of life. "Screen the those who have families. Whether it''s for the manors or reiming the territory, there''s no shortage of work."


    In Myr, the ratio of civilians to ves was as high as one-third. The functioning of the city-state depended heavily on ves, many of whom had families. Compared to solitary ves, those with families were more stable and reliable.


    The old ve''s wise eyes shone with understanding, and his voice was deep. "There are many jobless former ves in the Free City who would be happy to serve."


    He was a respected figure among the ves, fluent in severalnguages, and knowledgeable in astronomy and medicine, elected as one of the ve representatives.


    After themoners and ve representatives had spoken, it was the turn of the old noble''s representative.


    Lady Karl, a beautiful woman with deep olive skin and sensual red lips, reported with a hint of self-consciousness, "Several bankers have departed for Braavos to seek a loan from the Iron Bank."


    "How much can they borrow?" Rhaegar inquired, not well-versed in this area.


    Karl blinked her beautiful eyes thoughtfully. "About twice as much as their own bank savings. The merchants of Braavos aren''t foolish. The Myr bankers can probably only borrow so much."


    The Iron Bank had a long-standing reputation for dealing with all of Essos before the Doom. They were confident enough to lend money to an enemy force, confident that the borrower would not renege on it. However, they still required proof of repayment.


    Rhaegar nodded, his mind working quickly. "That''s enough. The money stored in several banks is sizable."


    Any one of the bank''s savings was not inferior to the national treasury that his great-grandfather and father had umted over decades. Borrowing such arge sum of money would be sufficient not only to develop the disputednds but also to ease the financial strain of building on the Stepstones Inds and repairing Myr and Lys.


    Rhaegar continued, "Stretch the loan term as long as possible, ideally up to the maximum of 60 years."


    The Iron Bank''s maximum borrowing term was 60 years. When his great-grandfather Jaehaerys built the Kingsroad, he took out a 60-year loan, paying it off in a dozen years. However, Rhaegar had no intention of repaying it.


    Karl''s face paled slightly, and she gently reminded him, "Prince, the power of the Iron Bank is not to be underestimated."


    With enough wealth, the Iron Bank could mobilize the power of half of Essos to collect a debt.


    Rhaegar''s eyes gleamed with a hint of amusement. "The Targaryens'' dragons have reimed thend of Essos. Do you think I care?"


    Repay the debt? Unless Braavos changed its Sealord and moved from hostility to alliance with the Iron Throne, there was no hope of recovering even half a copper.


    Karl''s eyes darkened and she said nothing more. She was a merchant, not a warrior.


    "Prince, there is news from the Prince''s Pce!"


    Gray Worm hurriedly approached, leading a team and looking slightly anxious.


    Rhaegar''s expression tensed as he greeted him and received the letter. The redcquer seal bore the image of a roaring lion, signifying the sender: Tnd Lannister.


    Rhaegar quickly unsealed the letter and read it carefully. Tnd lived in the Prince''s Pce, serving as Rhaegar''s eyes and ears in the Dornish bordends. Given Dorne''s past aggression towards the Stornds, the Vulture Mountains were always a potential hotspot for conflict.


    Tnd''s meticulous handwriting carried urgent news:


    "The Vulture Mountains are in turmoil. Arge number of people are pouring in, invading the Boneway and the Prince''s Pass..."


    The letter also detailed recent movements in Sunspear. Braavos had dispatched a small fleet that crossed the Narrow Sea, breaking through the patrol ships of the Stepstones Inds to provide a significant number of mercenaries.


    Rhaegar finished reading and exhaled, "Dorne is about to get serious."


    Strategically, the Stepstones Inds should send troops to blockade the sea near Sunspear to stop Braavos'' fleet from offering support. However, the Stepstones Inds'' military strength was stretched thin, with most forces engaged in the disputednds among the three Free Cities.


    Maintaining a full blockade with continuous patrols was impractical, leading to inevitable gaps that Braavos exploited with small fleets.


    After careful consideration, Rhaegar instructed Grey Worm, "Myr is on track. Maintain order here and remind Rhaenys and Daemon to watch out for sneak attacks from Braavos."


    Jeyne''s letter had warned of a potential attack on Pentos, but it was possible that the true target could be Myr. Deception and diversion were strategies Rhaegar himself often employed.


    Grey Worm nodded repeatedly. "Yes, Prince."


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed with determination as he left the harbor. The challenges of attacking the Triarchy across the sea were bing clear: reinforcements took time, troops were scattered, and the rear remained unstable.


    Fortunately, with all three Free Cities now stabilized, they could afford to reinforce their positions and prepare for potential threats.


    ...


    At the Same Time


    Stornds, East Coast


    "Roar..."


    A light silver dragon soared through the sky, weaving through thin clouds. Below, the ocean stretched endlessly, its rippling waves sparkling under the morning sun. The beach shimmered gold as the tides swept sea crabs and shellfish ashore.


    Tap, tap...


    Two figures walked side by side, strolling against the morning sunrise.


    Laenor looked despondent and said helplessly, "It''s been so many days, and Aemond still won''t send troops."


    "House Swann has offended him," Cole replied carelessly, lowering his head. Even the cool touch of his bare feet on the sand couldn''t lift his spirits.


    Laenor looked up to the sky, sighing as heined, "This is a battlefield, not a child''s yground. Something will happen to him if he continues like this."


    Cole remained unconcerned. "He is a prince and has a king for a father. He has the luxury to be capricious."


    "Cole, are you listening to what I''m saying?" Laenor was surprised; this wasn''t like the words that usually came from his gentlepanion.


    Cole''s face fell as he replied defensively, "What I''m saying is that the Dornish can''t reach us and it''s only a matter of time before we win."


    Though his words were quick, theycked conviction. Laenor frowned and lowered his head without pursuing the matter. He could see that his partner was too distracted to discuss the battlefield.


    Sighing softly in his mind, Laenor decided to continue the distraction. For a time, the two men, having nothing to say, walked in cold silence.


    After a long pause, Cole asked hesitantly, "Laenor, how are you and Celine doing? Lord Corlys ces great importance on the heir. He should be pushing you to produce an heir."


    "Celine? Why are you asking about that?" Laenor froze at his words.


    Celine Celtigar was his wife, whom he had married at the end ofst year. Not long ago, Celine''s father, Lord Bartimos of w Isle, had been sentenced to death by the Iron Throne for smuggling goods and had written to ask for mercy.


    Cole waited for an answer. Laenor, feeling depressed,ughed bitterly, "If I could see my wife as often as I see you, I would have had a child long ago."


    With a twinkle in his eye, Cole said, "I''ve been out a lottely. I thought you were returning to Driftmark Ind."


    "No, my brother, you thought wrong," Laenorughingly denied it.


    "Then where did you go?" Cole raised his head, directly pursuing the question.


    Laenor''s smile stagnated, his gaze bing somewhat evasive as he exined, "There are always people inviting me to drink, and I can''t refuse."

 Chapter 419: Seasmoke Out of Control

    Chapter 419: Seasmoke Out of Control


    Cole couldn''t tell if he was happy or angry and asked, "Are you sure?"


    "Of course." Laenor denied it, putting an arm around Cole''s shoulder andughing with a boozy gesture, "My favorite thing about riding dragons and drinking wine is that it gets my blood pumping."


    "I hope so." Cole lowered his head again, subconsciously pulling away from the arm around his shoulder.


    Seeing this, Laenor knew he was in the wrong and took the initiative to show affection, "Don''t sulk. Remember that Red Gem you had your eye onst time? I''ll give it to you when we get back."


    Compared to his former lover Joffrey, he was more willing to satisfy Cole with material things. Cole came from amoner''s background and had lived in poverty since childhood. It was not easy to be knighted, and he had a strong desire for money.


    Cole sniffed, forcing a smile, "You are always so generous to me."


    "That''s right, we''re good brothers," Laenor grinned, wrapping his arm around Cole as they continued to walk forward. Using money as a form of appeasement always worked.


    Cole didn''t struggle, following Laenor toward a reef area.


    "Roar..."


    The light silver dragon chirped in boredom, swooping further out to sea. With a plop, it plunged its feet into the water, capturing arge fish. The dragon hissed softly, seeking out other sea fish to feed on.


    Cole nced at the distant light silver dragon and suddenly asked, "Laenor, do you ever think of Joffrey?"


    Laenor blushed, feeling annoyed and guilty, "He''s been sent across the Narrow Sea. I haven''t seen him in a long time."


    "Yes?"


    "Of course."


    Their conversation, seemingly small talk, carried hidden agendas. The more Laenor talked, the more unhappy he became. The guilt of his infidelity made him not want to continue.


    "Laenor."


    As they approached the reef area, Cole stopped and called his name softly.


    Impatient, Laenor turned, "Cole, we''re out for a walk. Let''s not talk about unhappy things."


    "You''re right."


    Cole lifted his head, his previouslyplex eyes now cold and determined. His steps were sharp and light as he approached Laenor, drawing a cold, gleaming dagger from behind his waist.


    "Cole..."


    Realizing something was wrong, Laenor turned back to ask. But before he could finish, Cole''srge hand tightened around his neck, silencing him.


    "Laenor, you have been unfaithful, and the Seven Gods will not forgive you."


    Cole''s face was livid as he strangled Laenor, his right hand driving the dagger violently into Laenor''s back.


    Plop! Plop! Plop!


    A series of stabs, the dagger soaked in blood.


    Laenor, unprepared, felt his strength wane as blood poured from the wounds in his waist. His powerful struggles diminished to weak, feeble motions.


    Pfft...


    Cole released him, and Laenor fell limply to the ground, staring up in disbelief.


    Breathing heavily, Cole yelled, venting his fury, "What do you take me for? A whore at your beck and call, selling myself for money!"


    With that, he kicked Laenor in the head, the blowsnding with sickening thuds.


    Laenor, unable to resist, rolled back and forth, attempting to crawl away, his palms pressed into the sand.


    "Get back here!"


    Cole wouldn��t let him escape. He grabbed Laenor by his silver hair, pressing his head hard into the wet, muddy sand.


    "Your bloodline is noble, you are a dragon rider, you are marvelous..."


    Cole''s eyes were red, venting his heart''s dissatisfaction, letting out all his pent-up rage and lowly emotions.


    After torturing his former lover for what felt like an eternity, Cole finally dragged Laenor up from the beach. His body was numb from blood loss, his eyes as lifeless as a dead fish''s.


    The sneak attack hade too fast, leaving him no chance to resist.


    Laenor''s head drooped, his mouth opened, but no sound came out.


    Cole, expressionless, dragged him into the sea like a discarded carcass.


    The tide churned, wetting the legs of Cole''s rolled-up pants. The cold sensation invigorated his nerves.


    "Cole..."


    Laenor, now fully submerged in the water, mustered thest of his strength to clutch at Cole''s coat, a look of desperation in his eyes.


    He was terrified.


    Thoughts of his parents, his sister, and his wife alone in their house filled his mind as he faced death.


    Responsibilities and unfulfilled dreams surfaced in his head; he realized he hadn''t lived enough.


    "Die!"


    Cole growled, ignoring Laenor''s pleading eyes, and flung him into the crashing waves.


    Plop-


    A wave crashed, and Laenor, drowning in remorse, was swallowed by the sea.


    Cole''s eyes widened in horror. He swallowed hard, realizing the gravity of his actions, and turned to flee.


    Hidden among the reefs was a wooden boat. Desperation fueled his frantic movements as he pushed the boat into the sea, leapt in, and began to paddle furiously.


    His direction was not towards the Narrow Sea to the east but southward towards Cape Wrath.


    The sun was rising, and the morning chill was dissipating.


    No one on the vast, empty beach witnessed the murder.


    Except for...


    "Roar!!"


    A sharp roar echoed across the shore as the light silver dragon, Sea Smoke, returned, its vertical pupils filled with endless fury.


    Just moments before, it had sensed the pain and anger of its rider.


    This overwhelming negative emotion deeply agitated Sea Smoke''s nerves.


    "Roar..."


    After a frantic search with no sign of Laenor, Sea Smoke roared angrily, unleashing its Dragonfire in a blind rage.


    It searched up and down the beach, but its rider was nowhere to be found.


    The dragon, intelligent as any human, quickly realized that something terrible had happened to Laenor.


    "Roar!!"


    Sea Smoke''s vertical pupils turned blood-red, every inch of its flesh and blood seething with rage as it flew back towards Mistwood.


    Dragonfire spewed uncontrobly along its path.


    The Rainwood burned, and the viges in its way were engulfed in mes.


    Sea Smoke was beyond reason, consumed only by an uncontroble fury.


    In its singr mind, one thought remained:


    Find the rider! Burn everything in sight!


    ...


    In the afternoon


    Stonehelm, Cape Wrath.


    Beneath its grayish-white walls, thousands of Dornish soldiers scrambled to climb, their roars of rage and screams of pain echoing through the air.


    On the city wall, Lord Swann, pale and strained, desperatelymanded the defense.


    As the minutes dragged on, his face grew ashen, a sense of powerlessness seeping into his bones.


    One mile outside the city, a well-organized Dornish force of a thousand soldiers stood ready.


    At the forefront of their formation, in addition to a dozen stone throwers, were an equal number of scorpion crossbows.


    Originally designed for long sieges, these crossbows had evolved to target not just fortified forts but also swift cavalry and the dragons in the sky.


    In terms of destructive power, they were unparalleled.


    Olyvar Yronwood stood proudly at the front, bellowing, "Load the crossbows and aim them at the gates!"


    With Braavos as an ally, unexpected advantages like these siege weapons were at hand.


    With the scorpion crossbows and stone throwers, breaching the city walls was only a matter of time.


    The Dornish soldiers stood at attention, efficiently loading steel-tipped bolts into the scorpion crossbows.


    At Olyvar''smand, they unleashed a relentless barrage on Stonehelm.


    The catapults and scorpion crossbows fired incessantly, their impact shaking the city walls and causing chunks of stone to copse, scattering debris everywhere.


    Lord Swann''s face turned ashen as he watched his defending troops take heavy casualties and the walls of Stonehelm begin to crumble.


    "Fire!" Olyvar shouted, his expression cold as he watched his forces pound the city.


    His method of attack was brutally straightforward, sacrificing his soldiers in relentless suicide attacks.


    It was costly in lives, but brutally effective.


    The defenders trembled at the sight of bloodied Dornish soldiers.


    Faced with an enemy of overwhelming numbers and firepower, their morale crumbled in despair.


    Boom!


    A rolling stoneunched from a catapult mmed into the city''s battlements, right where Lord Swann stood barking orders.


    Feeling the rush of air, Lord Swann turned, his eyes widening in horror.


    Rumble��


    With a deafening crash, the wall exploded into a cloud of gray masonry, mingling with the blood and flesh of the castle''s lord.


    "Lord Swann is dead!"


    "Lord Swann has fallen in battle!"


    The sight sent a shockwave through the defenders, who had been watching theirmander.


    Panic spread through the ranks.


    The castle, now in chaos, teetered on the brink of copse.


    ...


    Dusk.


    Crow''s Nest Castle.


    Royce Caron''s face was ashen as he held a raven-sent letter, his body trembling.


    The letter read: Lord Swann was killed in battle. Stonehelm has fallen.


    Lord Morrigan of Crow��s Nest stood beside him, his expression equally grim. "Lord Royce, we must send troops immediately."


    Stonehelm was the first line of defense on the Cape Wrath. With the Dornish upying it, they had the advantage of attack and retreat, making the war much more difficult.


    Bang! Royce mmed the table heavily, shouting in frustration, "Where is Prince Aemond? Has he not sent troops yet?"


    A young maester, his eyelids fluttering nervously, replied, "Prince Aemond heard the news and has flown on his dragon to lead the army to strike."


    "Strike? Where is he striking?" Royce''s eyes widened, his voice frantic.


    With Stonehelm captured, Crow��s Nest was now the frontline. A risky counterattack on Stonehelm could only result in more losses.


    The maester quickly answered, "He must have just departed. We can send a message to stop him."


    "Then what are you waiting for? Send the message immediately!" Royce roared, nearly exploding with anger.


    If Stonehelm was lost, the ruthlessness of the Dornish would mean no survivors for House Swann. As themanding officer, Royce would bear the responsibility.


    "Yes, my lord." The clerk, drenched in sweat, fled to carry out the order.


    Lord Morrigan furrowed his brow, pointing to the map on the table. "Prince Aemond is willing to send troops. Together with Ser Laenor of Mistwood, two dragons and thousands of Stornds warriors can recapture Stonehelm."


    He tried to calm Lord Royce. The battle had always been in their favor, which was why Prince Aemond had dyed his troops, stalling the battle.


    The reason was obvious to anyone clever enough to guess. Now, with Lord Swann dead, the two dragon riders could turn the tide.


    Royce, his face set in a grimace, gritted his teeth. "That Targaryen brat, so narrow-minded. Elenda should never have let her daughter marry him!"


    Targaryen''s marriage to Baratheon''s daughter was an encroachment on certain rights of House Baratheon. With Aemond officially marrying Lady Cassandra of Storm��s End, it was easy for him to meddle in Stornds affairs. With such an ill-intentioned brat in power, the Stornds nobility would suffer.


    "This is not the time for that discussion," Lord Morrigan murmured. "Remember, you also took the that position thanks to the royal family."


    "We must send a message to Mistwood," Morrigan continued, "and inform Ser Laenor to lead an army to close in on Stonehelm."


    Royce sighed deeply. "We also need to send a message to King''s Landing to urge the Crownds to speed up their support."


    The Dornish hade in force, exceptionally well-armed, backed by Braavos and the remnants of the Triarchy. The Stornds needed all the support they could get from King''s Landing.

 Chapter 420: The Sea Snake’s Fury

    Chapter 420: The Sea Snake��s Fury


    King''s Landing.


    Council Hall.


    Inside the austerely decorated council hall, the royal advisers sat around the long table in tense silence. Grand Maester Orwyle had just received a series of raven letters from the Stornds, each bearing worse news than thest. Confirmed by Master of Whisperers Tormund, the situation was dire.


    The atmosphere was heavy, and Viserys, seated at the head of the table, looked visibly ufortable. The Stornds, previously thought to be secure, were now delivering the worst possible news.


    Viserys nced sideways at Sea Snake Corlys, seated across from him, whose expression was dark and foreboding. Corlys sat with his arms crossed, his gaze intense and unyielding, exuding the regal aura of his Nine Voyages.


    Knowing he couldn''t remain silent any longer, Viserys coughed lightly and addressed the council, "My lords, let''s discuss the situation in the Stornds."


    His knuckles tapped on the table, pulling the advisers from their thoughts. Looking at Corlys, Viserys lowered his voice, "Lord Corlys, I don''t want to intrude on your grief, but I hope the Seven Gods will bless Ser Laenor."


    ording to the reports, Laenor had disappeared under mysterious circumstances, with no sign of his body. His dragon, Sea Smoke, had gone berserk, attacking the residents of the Stornds indiscriminately and causing numerous casualties in Mistwood. It was obvious that Laenor had been murdered.


    Corlys raised his head stiffly, his eyes burning with suppressed anger. "Thank you, Your Grace. I believe my child will survive, just as I did in my youth."


    Over fifty years old, Corlys'' life experience was extensive enough to fill a book. Despite knowing his child''s dire fate, he maintained aposed demeanor.


    "My heartfelt blessings," Viserys said, trying tofort him. He then turned to the advisers, "With the Dornish upying Stonehelm and Ser Laenor missing, only Crow��s Nest and the Rain House remain on the Third Front. Do we need to send additional reinforcements?"


    Mistwood had managed to block the Dornish attack but couldn��t withstand an out-of-control dragon.


    Otto was the first to respond, "Your Grace, the King''s reinforcements departed recently. It''s not advisable to draw more troops for now."


    Lyonel quickly followed, "The Narrow Sea War has passed, and many armies have been mobilized. Calling up more troops might cause opposition from the local lords."


    The Vale had heavily contributed to the attack on Myr. The Rivends, Westends, and North had also added several armies to overrun Lys.


    Lyman, with urgency in his voice, said, "The Triarchy has invested too many troops, and with the Dorn Rebellion close behind, we are in a critical situation."


    "Lord Lyman, we have defeated the Triarchy. The situation is not as dire as you suggest," Jasper countered. "The Reach, Westends, and Vale should still be able to draw more troops."


    Westeros was vast, and more troops could be gathered with some effort.


    Otto, after a moment of silence, refuted his ally dismissively, "The Westends are garrisoned to defend against the Ironborn, and the Reach guards the Prince''s Pass. These are critical positions."


    Since the Second Battle of the Stepstones Inds, the Ironborn had been restless, harassing Lannisport and the Rivends'' sea border cities. For Dornish invasions, the Prince''s Pass and the Boneway were always the first choice, requiring substantial defenses.


    A militaristic strategy could only be employed when absolutely necessary.


    Jasper, rebuffed, fell silent in resentment.


    "What exactly should we do?" Viserys asked, his gaze darting around the room, seeking a satisfactory answer.


    Lyonel and Otto exchanged a knowing look. Both were intelligent men who quickly read each other''s thoughts.


    With a stern face, Lyonel said in a decisive tone, "Your Grace, with the reinforcements from the Crownds, the Stornds have enough troops to deal with the Dornish invaders. It''s best for us to respond to any change with no change."


    "Exactly," Otto interjected, adding, "The Stornds may have lost a controble dragon, but they still have another capable of handling the situation."


    The two men spoke in turn, deftly sidestepping various issues such as the interruption of the war''s rhythm, Aemond''s insubordination, Laenor''s harboring of his former lover and the disappearance of his current lover with him.


    Without a qualifiedmander, the leadership of the Stornds Coalition Army was riddled with errors and omissions.


    Viserys listened, slightly reassured, but then brought up a concern, "Sea Smoke is out of control, causing many casualties. He may be looking for his rider."


    His voice carried a note of disappointment. A dragon going berserk would not only affect the battle but also tarnish the Targaryen''s reputation.


    The most crucial point for Viserys was the fear that someone might hate dragons enough to kill the defenseless Sea Smoke.


    Every dragon was a precious, irreceable asset.


    The council began to lean toward a calm approach, advising the king to rest easy and leave the Stornds to their own devices.


    Not everyone was happy with this approach, however.


    Bang!


    Corlys, already dark-faced, could no longer suppress his anger. He mmed his hands together and angrily rebuked, "We can''t just stand by! The Storndsck apetentmander, and dying action will only worsen the situation!"


    As a seasoned warrior who had truly experienced the battlefield, Corlys had already analyzed the mediocrity and ipetence of Royce Caron, and the capriciousness of Aemond from the few words in the letter.


    These problems might not seem serious in everyday life, but they were fatal on the battlefield.


    Amander who couldn��t effectively lead his men was worse than useless.


    A dragon rider who disobeyed orders was a hindrance.


    Viserys was taken aback, staring at Corlys in bewilderment. The confidence instilled by his advisers began to waver.


    Corlys quickly stepped out of his seat, producing a map from his sleeve, and spoke sharply, "Dorne dared to challenge the authority of the Iron Throne, thanks to the support from Braavos and the remnants of the Triarchy''s Kingdom. Controlling the sea is the key!"


    "The navies of the three city-states are all deployed, always on guard against foreign enemies," Viserys said in a deep voice.


    He knew the Triarchy''s movements all too well. The city-states harbored rebels with ill intentions, and the two allies, Pentos and Vntis, were also ambitious. He had to watch out not only for the clearly hostile Braavos, but also for the seemingly harmless allies. It was human nature.


    Joining the war together wasn''t feasible. With the Targaryens upying three city-states, Pentos and Vntis were only willing to ept a few port taxes. They were deterred only by the dragons and the assertiveness of the eldest Targaryen son.


    Viserys suspected that the shadows of Prince Pentos and Magister Vntis were among the supporters transporting supplies to Dorne. The power of ancient Valyria had cast a deep shadow over Essos. Likewise, a powerful Targaryen-ruled Westeros posed a threat to the bnce of power.


    Corlys nced at him, pointed his finger at the Stepstones Inds on the map, and replied with a didactic tone, "Rhaenys and the others are holding down the Free Cities, and Prince Aegon can easily mobilize a two-thousand-man navy."


    Of all the advisors in the room, he was the only one who knew the ways of war. Even as he received the news of Laenor''s assassination, he had been strategizing.


    Viserys, upon hearing this, gazed at the map and fell into silence. He knew little of war but understood the importance of Aegon''s defense of the Stepstones Inds. This maintained the transit of the lower half of the Narrow Sea and prevented other free cities from plunging into the disputednds from the sea.


    Corlys tapped his hand on the table and urged, "Your Grace, what are you hesitating for? The Dornish areing on strong; this isn''t the small matter it was a few days ago."


    Before Viserys could respond, Otto frowned and spoke out in warning, "Lord Corlys, I deeply sympathize with your loss, but I must ask you to maintain basic respect for the king. You are only a advisor."


    Otto, despite his selfishness, knew the importance of upholding the king''s authority at critical moments. Whether it was Daemon or the Vryon House, those who did not abide by the rules of right were considered enemies by him.


    Corlys red angrily, his face grim as he turned on Otto. He held nothing but contempt and disgust for this selfish and discreet second son of Hightower.


    Seeing that the two were at odds, Viserys looked back and forth, habitually trying to make peace. "Otto, Lord Corlys was momentarily agitated and is acting in the service of the realm."


    "I''m merely reminding him of the etiquette between a ruler and a subject," Otto replied coolly.


    "Hmph!"


    Corlys snorted disdainfully, then directed his spear-like re at Viserys and said bluntly, "Your Grace, I seriously doubt Lord Royce''s ability tomand. I request permission to lead the troops into battle!"


    As soon as the words fell, the conference hall fell silent. The Royal advisers stared at him, their thoughts hidden behind their eyes.


    Corlys didn''t give them a chance to question him andid out his strategy. "Dorne invades the Stornds; the onlynding point is Stonehelm. Given Dorne''s national conditions, 20,000 regr troops almost draws the entire realm''s strength, leaving their defensesx."


    Viserys'' spirit lifted, his interest piqued.


    Corlys nced at Otto with contempt, his finger tracing from Stonehelm on the map to Sunspear. His voice dripped with determination, "Prince Aegon leads the Navy of the Stepstones Inds to move out, under my fullmand, to directly destroy Martell''s stronghold!"


    With the pain of his son''s death fueling his anger, Corlys'' hatred reached its peak. The tight, step-by-step strategy seemed too cumbersome. Controlling the sea and stopping secret support to Dorne seemed even harder.


    So, he chose the highest-risk, greatest-reward strategy: Rush straight to Sunspear and decapitate the Martell leadership.


    Viserys listened attentively, slightly excited. "A brilliant n, but it contains great danger."


    Taking out the Martells might allow Dorne to be incorporated into the realm.


    Corlys'' eyes were as sharp as a hawk''s. "Dorne is not rich; we could draw Prince Aemond''s dragons. Two dragons will surely be able to break through Sunspear."


    Even the strongest castle was no match for dragons. Sunspear, with its mud and stone walls and open terrain, was vulnerable to a dragon attack.


    Lyonel and Otto, thoughmenting the madness of the n, joined the discussion. After some debate, Viserys suddenly asked, "Shall we recall Rhaegar?"


    Corlys'' face softened slightly, and he replied, "The prince is still in Myr; he should rush back when he hears about this."


    Viserys nodded, growing more satisfied. With his eldest son by his side, he had a backbone for foreign wars.


    Just as the King and advisers were fervently discussing, Tormund, who had been silent, stood up and said in a low voice, "Your Grace, I have information you should be aware of."


    Viserys froze and turned to look at him. The other royal advisers simrly directed their gazes towards him.


    Feeling the pressure, Tormund pulled out a letter from his sleeve and handed it over, saying heavily, "Dorne has experienced a decrease in food production since the beginning of the year.


    Arge number of stragglers have converged on the Vulture Mountains. Tens of thousands of people, both young and old, are showing signs of invading the Prince''s Pass and the Boneway."

 Chapter 421: Encountering Sea Smoke

    Chapter 421: Encountering Sea Smoke


    The environment of the Dornish Desert, where oases are scarce, makes it difficult for civilians to survive, causing them to flock to the Vulture Mountains. This issue, reported earlier this year, has now escted into a significant problem.


    Viserys frowned, confused. "It''s just a group of disorderly people. Even if there are tens of thousands, the two passes should be able to handle it."


    The Boneway was treacherous, with ckhaven strategically positioned halfway through. The exit of the Prince''s Pass was at Nightsong in the Dornish Bordends, the territory of Lord Royce Caron, House Caron.


    This territory was supported by House Tully to the west and led to Highgarden to the north. Whenever there was a rebellion in Dorne,rge numbers of garrison troops were sent to defend The Reach.


    Tormund sighed softly and exined, "Lady Jeyne of Eyrie City sent a message that the Sealord of Braavos recruited tens of thousands of mercenaries and transported them to Dorne for support."


    Tens of thousands of people sounded like a lot, but in fact, only a dozen or so ships were needed, and they could be smuggled in batches with several round trips. Dorne was allied with the Triarchy and had always been adept at using mercenaries for their charges.


    Viserys was stunned, aware of the danger. He stood and looked at the map, pointing out, "The Dornish sent their main force into the Stornds, and the mercenaries and stragglers poured into the Vulture Mountains. Is this an attempt to fight on two fronts?"


    As he said this, his finger pointed at the Disputed Lands and the Iron Inds, his face hardening. "With the Triarchy holding our main forces in check, and the Iron Inds taking the opportunity to invade the Westends and the Reach, we''ll be stretched thin."


    The weaker a person''s mind was, the easier it was to see something in the worst possible light. Ironically, sometimes that kind of thinking was very close to the truth.


    Lyonel and Otto stood up almost simultaneously and looked around at the map. Corlys'' face fell, and therge hand holding the tablecloth clenched with tension.


    Hearing the king''s spections, the possibilities seemed great indeed. Otto looked at Corlys and said tly, "ording to the current situation, Dorne has significant intentions of invading the realm, and the Vulture Mountains will be a trouble."


    Anotheryer of meaning was implied. With Dorne paying such a high price, the sneaking up on Sunspear scenario would be difficult to pull off. After all, Qoren was no fool who only cared about his head and not his tail.


    Corlys'' face darkened even more, and not bothering to argue, he suggested, "There''s no problem with sending troops from the Stepstones Inds. Sneaking an attack on Sunspear is more practical than sending reinforcements from the sea to aid the Stornds."


    Since there was a change in the Vulture Mountains, the sooner the war in the Stornds was pacified, the better. Sunfyre plus two thousand naval forces would be more useful than the five thousand army that the King''s Landing had temporarily conscripted.


    "What about the Vulture Mountains?" Viserys asked bluntly, his eyes filled with inexplicable meaning.


    "We can send word to Highgarden and ckhaven to fortify the pass," Tormund replied.


    "Tens of thousands of mercenaries, tens of thousands of refuges, plus the siege equipment secretly provided by Braavos..." Viserys raised his head, reciting Dorn''s home base word for word. "With such thorough preparations, ckhaven and Nightsong may not be able to hold them."


    "Your Grace?" Tormund was confused for a moment, unsure of what the king meant. Otto and the others also looked puzzled, staring at the king in surprise.


    It wasn''t that fortresses hadn''t been lost in history, but it seemed as if the king was almost expecting it.


    Viserys felt ufortable under the scrutinizing gazes, lightly coughing twice to cover up his difort. His expression immediately turned serious. "The Vulture Mountains have treacherous terrain. Hidden threats are difficult to locate; a dragon with the defending army is necessary."


    Otto''s eyes flickered as he countered, "While it''s true that many savages hide in the mountains to avoid detection, the people aiming to attack the fortress will have to reveal themselves."


    He casually pointed the holes in the king''s argument.


    Lyonel nodded, adding, "We don''t have any more dragons avable. We may have to wait for Prince Rhaegar to return to the maind."


    Laenor''s fate is uncertain, and they can''t ask Laena, who just lost her son, to fight.


    With Rhaenys and Daemon guarding the three city-states, the only dragon riders they can mobilize are Prince Rhaegar and Aegon.


    Seeing the objections of his advisors, Viserys straightened his back and dered with determination, "My lords, don''t forget that your king is also a dragon rider!"


    As he spoke, he wiped the weariness from his face, revealing a few shades of firmness.


    Otto said, "Your Grace, Prince Aegon''s betrothal feast to Lady Selene has yet to be held. Perhaps you should focus on that matter instead."


    "Don''t mention these pesky matters to me now," Viserys snapped, his face darkening with disgust. He was disgusted by House Hightower''s attempts to profit through his son. Alicent had also been pressuring him to recall Aegon, making a lot of noise.


    Lyonel added, "Dorne and the Iron Throne have a long history of enmity. We lost a queen and dragon in the War of Dorne more than a hundred years ago, and now we''ve lost a Vryon dragon rider. With all due respect, the kingdom cannot afford to lose the king, even if the likelihood is low."


    "Lyonel..." Viserys began, his anger rising, ready to argue.


    The old and calm Lyman interrupted quietly, "Your Grace, the defense of the Reach is not as fragile as you think."


    Viserys could barely contain his frustration. "I am a dragon rider. My mount is Vermithor, and I''ve even ridden Balerion. Do you think I''m a braggart or a coward?"


    He just wanted to go to war for once. Why did it always seem like he was bound to have an ident? If his sons could participate in the war, why couldn''t he, as their father, take action?


    The advisors were silent, not daring to challenge the king''s harsh words. A king could be a fool or morally corrupt, but no one could call him a coward.


    After a moment of silence, Corlys looked around and let out a loudugh. "See, Our Grace is sopetent and doesn''tck the vigor to bloodily wash away the offenders."


    He was truly impressed. He had thought that his cousin-inw and king was still a coward with a weak character. Now it seemed very different.


    Viserys, with a solemn face, said, "I''ll ride Vermithor south down the Boneway, while Lord Corlys can sneak into Sunspear by boat."


    Defense and offense simultaneously.


    Corlys stoppedughing, looked around, and said in a deep voice, "Vermithor is an adult dragon second only to Vhagar. I support Your Grace''s decision."


    The Bronze Fury''s name had spread across the continent for decades and had long been deeply rooted in people''s minds. At least in Westeros, the Bronze Fury''s prestige was greater than Deathwing.


    With supporters, Viserys was full of energy and said, "I''m going on a royal expedition, just like a conqueror."


    The advisors were silent, quietly looking at each other, unable to find a reason to oppose. It was a good thing that the king dared to go into battle and take on the responsibility of guarding the entire realm.


    In Westeros, brave lords were more worthy of following. The brave Heir Prince was the best example. Every lord loved him and was willing to follow him into battle.


    The council hall remained silent for half a tea''s time, and still no one objected.


    In the end, the king''s proposal passed.


    ...


    Outside the closed door of the meeting hall, two Kingsguards stood tall, guarding the entrance. Alicent, dressed in a green gown, stood nearby, picking her nails anxiously. Her daughter, Hena, was half crouched with her freckled face pressed against the door, trying to listen to the discussions inside.


    Hena had returned to King''s Landing from Harrenhal the night before. That morning she had heard of Laenor''s ident and Aemond''s disobedience, prompting her to eavesdrop on the meeting.


    When the meeting ended, Hena sat up, her expression nk. Alicent noticed her daughter''s faint dark circles and approached her with concern. "Did you not sleep well?" she asked, her voice filled with motherly concern. In the vastness of the Red Keep, caring for her children was Alicent''s way of finding a sense of presence.


    Hena shook her head. Alicent reached out and gently stroked her daughter''s soft, bouncing cheek. "Don''t be afraid. Aemond is well, and Ser Laenor will be blessed by the Seven Gods."


    "I''m not worried about Aemond. He has his own fate," Hena replied, her voice calm and measured.


    Her thin eyebrows furrowed as she added cryptically, "I saw a fishmonger, working on a blue ind."


    Alicent looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"


    "Nothing," Hena quickly responded, stepping away and heading towards the door. As she walked, she muttered under her breath, "I need to check it out and caution Aemond on the way."


    ...


    Day by day, time flew by.


    Stornds, East Coast.


    "Roar-"


    As soon as the white clouds parted, the ck dragon soared into the air, its vast wings casting arge shadow below.


    "Faster!"


    On the dragon''s back, Rhaegar''s silver hair flew wildly, his ck robe billowing in the wind.


    Cannibal''s vertical pupils were cold and indifferent as it lifted its wings across the lush Rainwood, startling countless birds into flight.


    One man and one dragon moved with extreme speed, rushing towards Crow��s Nest.


    Halfway there.


    "Roar..."


    A sharp roar echoed, and orange and yellow Dragonfireced with light silver shot into the sky.


    The Cannibal''s vertical pupils shed with a cold light, and its flying speed slowed.


    Rhaegar''s heart filled with fear as he gazed into the distance.


    In the southern part of the Rainwood, a greenish-gray castle stood majestically.


    At that moment, a light silver dragon hovered in the air, recklessly spitting dragonfire and relentlessly bombarding the castle.


    Rumble-


    The castle towers were scorched ck, the zed windows shattered, and rolling ck smoke rose into the air.


    On the tall walls, there wasn''t a single guarding soldier, and even the gs were carefully retracted.


    Arge portion of the defensive walls had copsed, revealing the castle''s dpidation.


    "Sea Smoke!?"


    Rhaegar blurted out.


    From a long distance away, he recognized both the castle and the dragon.


    It was the Mistwood Castle of House Mertyns, and the dragon was Sea Smoke, now riderless.


    "Roar..."


    Sea Smoke''s nose sniffed lightly, seemingly sensing danger, and stared at the ck dragon approaching from the distance.


    Its vertical pupils shed with a touch of tyranny, and it growled as if in defiance.


    Immediately afterward, it spat out another mouthful of Dragonfire at Mistwood below and then twisted its head to soar in the opposite direction.


    Although it was furious, it still remembered the terror of the <em>Dragoneater</em> Cannibal.


    As he watched Sea Smoke fly away, Rhaegar''s mind raced, and he quickly called out, "Cannibal, go after it."


    "Roar--"


    Cannibal''s green vertical pupils appeared gloomy, its wide ck wings pped, and it quickly stormed after Sea Smoke.


    A young dragon, less than a third of its size, dared to challenge it. It didn''t know what was good for it!


    The two dragons chased and fled, flying over the territory of Mistwood.


    Sea Smoke flew very fast and was in a strange state.


    Whenever it passed a vige, even if it was unremarkable, it would lower its stature for a dive.


    "Roar..."


    Sharp and violent cries echoed as Dragonfire plowed through the viges without mercy.

 Chapter 422: Dragon Taming Whip’s Ability

    Chapter 422: Dragon Taming Whip��s Ability


    "Roar--"


    Cannibal roared arrogantly, its body resembling a ck meteor as it rushed toward the top of Sea Smoke''s head.


    Sea Smoke looked up sharply, feeling an overwhelming sense of oppression.


    "Cannibal, catch it!" Rhaegarmanded against the gusty wind.


    With its rider gone, Sea Smoke had been retaliating with indiscriminate attacks. It was only right to stop it and force it into submission.


    Boom--


    Cannibal''s body dived, and its dragon maw spewed Dragonfire. Ghostly green mes like smoke and mist enveloped the light silver dragon.


    "Roar..."


    Sea Smoke cried out in fear and pped its wings to flee. But Cannibal was faster, moving like a dark cloud and clearing obstacles with its eerie green Dragonfire.


    As Sea Smoke flew some distance away, the adhesive mes clung to it. The light silver scales ignited with green fire, making its spine look like it was covered in green hair.


    As a young dragon, Sea Smoke''s scalescked the thickness and resistance to withstand such an assault. It screamed miserably, closed one pair of vertical pupils, and quickly rushed out of the Dragonfire''s scope.


    Poof---


    Sea Smoke''s head burst through the terrifying Dragonfire, tilting as it spat out arge mouthful of its own mes. The Dragonfire formed a fiery curtain, through which Sea Smoke plunged, trailing wisps of ck smoke.


    Rhaegar watched the scene with surprise, letting out a surprised "Huh."


    Sea Smoke had broken through the Dragonfire, and the green mes covering its body weakened visibly. It cleverly used its own fire to contain the spread of the enemy''s mes and mitigate the pain.


    "What a smart dragon," Rhaegar''s eyes lit up. He bowed forward and called out, "Cannibal, Dracarys!"


    Among the new generation of dragons, Sea Smoke had the mostbat experience. It had seen battle and fought other dragons. Its decisive response to Cannibal''s Dragonfire surpassed Syrax and Sunfyre.


    "Roar!!!"


    Cannibals bared its teeth, the dragon''s head rising high as its swooping stance turned into a glide. It opened its abyssal mouth, spraying Dragonfire.


    "Roar..."


    Sea Smoke let out a mournful cry as it was struck again. The light silver scales on its body burned to a crisp, fluttering to extinguish the attached Dragonfire. But the second wave of green mes from Cannibal descended with overwhelming force, leaving Sea Smoke with no power to fight back.


    At that same moment, the ck dragon swooped down, its massive body eclipsing the light, and extended its sharp ws.


    sh!


    One w gripped Sea Smoke''s neck while the other embedded itself in the scales along its spine.


    "Roar..."


    Sea Smoke thrashed wildly, struggling to free itself.


    Boom--


    The two dragons wrestled in the air, entangled, and crashed to the ground.


    Sea Smokended heavily, dragon blood spurting from its mouth, its body writhing and twisting like a silver snake. Its wings spread wide, creating a tragic and striking image.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal roared triumphantly, its ws pressing down on Sea Smoke''s neck, its green eyes filled with arrogance and disdain.


    Sea Smoke trembled all over, its chest and abdomen scales shattered and bleeding. Facing Cannibal, it couldn''t muster a fraction of its strength. The fate of Morghul shed in its mind, and Sea Smoke wailed.


    Cannibal was unmoved, standing over the young dragon with a menacing presence.


    "Cannibal, that''s enough," Rhaegar called out, smiling helplessly from the sidelines.


    Cannibal, however, didn''t seem to heed him. Its green eyes glowed ominously, and its dragon maw nearly drooled with anticipation.


    Looking around, there are only two dragons and visible smoke on the horizon. The vigers nearby were certainly unlucky.


    Rhaegar sighed and jumped off Cannibal''s back.


    "Roar..."


    Sea Smoke lowered its head and squealed sorrowfully, its wings and tail iling, stirring up dust.


    Cannibal pressed harder with its ws, nearly crushing Sea Smoke''s neck.


    Sea Smoke let out a shrill scream, its body stiffening momentarily, its tail pointing skyward.


    "Alright, you''re all oldrades. Be gentle," Rhaegar spread his hands, trying to calm Cannibal.


    Cannibal''s green eyes red with disdain, snorting heavily. The sulfurous heat nearly blew Rhaegar off his feet.


    Rhaegarughed and pointed, the man influenced the dragon and vice versa. Since he became a dragonborn, this big brute has be more rebellious.


    Ignoring Cannibal, Rhaegar walked toward Sea Smoke and spoke in the dragon taming spellnguage, "Suppress Anger."


    His voice was maic and gentle, with a slightly fluctuating tone.


    "?"


    Sea Smoke''s vertical pupils widened, and it stopped its frantic thrashing. It seemed to understand.


    Rhaegar faced the dragon''s head and slowly approached. "Suppress your anger and return to Dragonstone Ind."


    This was his true purpose. ith Laenor gone, Sea Smoke shouldn''t remain in the wild; Dragonstone Ind was its rightful ce. The appearance and death of Morghul had already stirred too many dark thoughts and covetous eyes across Westeros and Essos.


    Rhaegar regretted Laenor''s murder deeply; the two had shared a close camaraderie since childhood. But the dragon belonged to the Targaryens.


    "Roar..."


    At the mention of his rider''s name, Sea Smoke recalled the pain and thrashed uncontrobly. Its mournful roar echoed loudly.


    Rhaegar covered his ears, his inhuman frame unable to withstand the dragon''s scream. His eyebrows furrowed as he sensed something was wrong. The roar carried notes of disappointment and sorrow.


    Rhaegar murmured softly, "This dragon is still looking for its rider."


    Sea Smoke wasn''t merely venting its anger but searching desperately. Every failed attempt resulted in an attack.


    Rhaegar''s brows gradually rxed, and his mood grewplex. Ancient texts from various Dragonlord families and the Targaryen Brief History all emphasized that dragons possessed intelligenceparable to humans. With intelligence came emotions.


    Sea Smoke was hatched on Dragonstone Ind and had been with Laenor for over twenty years. Their bond was deep. The emotions of a dragon were strong and pure.


    Rhaegar''s eyes softened as he tried to soothe the beast. "Quiet!"


    Just as Balerion''s end, Vhagar''s wail, and Vermithor''s remembrance of his old master, Sea Smoke needed to beforted.


    "Roar..."


    Sea Smoke ignored him, its wings and hind legs straining to break free from the Cannibal''s grip.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal''s eyes remained indifferent. Its ws tightened, easily suppressing the struggling dragon. In Cannibal''s view, a dragon caught in its grip had no chance of escape.


    Wild dragons survived through strength, endurance, and speed. Cannibal, especially in terms of speed, was unmatched. Against it, even the oldest and strongest dragons couldn''t keep up.


    "Roar..."


    The brief moment of freedom vanished as Cannibal pressed down harder. Sea Smoke hissed in agony, its neck nearly embedded in the earth.


    Dragons were inherently restless, each with a fierce personality. Facing constant cmities, Sea Smoke''s desperation grew, and it rebelled without care.


    It opened its maw and turned to attack the ck dragon. Cannibal''s ws tightened, extinguishing Sea Smoke''s Dragonfire.


    Sea Smoke''s roar was cut off, its body twisting unnaturally under the pressure. Cracks appeared in its flesh as its spine strained against the force.


    "It''s going to fight to the death?"


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened, and he instinctively stepped back. He wasn''t afraid of Dragonfire, but the thought of Sea Smoke''s desperate struggle filled him with concern.


    "Roar..."


    Sea Smoke chirped with a sobbing sound, its broad wings sweeping back and forth, its robust hind limbs plowing furrows into the ground.


    A few paces away, Rhaegar heard the crunching of Sea Smoke''s neck and spine. Was it an act of anger or fear?


    Watching the dragon''s wings pivot like siege hammers, Rhaegar was grateful for the foresight to keep his distance.


    "Roar!"


    Annoyance surfaced in Cannibal''s green vertical pupils, and the dragon''s muzzle twisted into a hideous arc.


    Sea Smoke rolled, spraying dragon''s blood, the smell of which triggered Cannibal''s predatory instincts.


    Snap--


    In a sh, a long, ck whip flew across the sky, striking the top of Sea Smoke''s head with precision.


    "Roar!"


    Sea Smoke screamed miserably, its body copsing into a heavy heap. Between the two silver-white curved horns on its head, a slender whipping mark appeared, stark and clear.


    Rhaegar cocked his head, his right hand still holding the dragon taming whip, which shimmered with an ebony light.


    It won''t listen? Then let''s just hit it with a whip.


    "Roar..."


    After a moment of submission, Sea Smoke''s vertical pupils widened in anger, and it struggled even more intensely.


    "Doesn''t work? One more time."


    Rhaegar muttered, and his hand moved swiftly and forcefully. Fire magic power infused the grip, merging man and whip.


    Crack-


    The whip''s length grew several times, like a spirit snake emerging from its hole, biting down on its prey. The whip''s ebony light blossomed, and the sinewy body seemed toe to life, strangling Sea Smoke''s neck.


    The next second, the fine scales on the whip''s body trembled and embedded in the gaps of Sea Smoke''s scales, locking the dragon in ce.


    "Roar..."


    Sea Smoke''s cries abruptly ended, and its head mmed to the ground, as if it had lost all its strength. Rhaegar clenched the grip, his body lunging forward with the whip''s tugging.


    Sea Smoke''s vertical pupils suddenly became aware, and its struggling slowed. Rhaegar''s gaze was hopeful as he used the dragon taming spellnguage, "Don''t move, stay calm!"


    For the first time using the dragon taming whip, Rhaegar was eager to see its effects. Sea Smoke heard the voice, and the dragon tamingnguage echoed in its mind,pellingpliance. With a plop, the dragon fell to the ground.


    Rhaegar''s face changed slightly as he staggered forward, following the whip''s pull. "You''re a good dragon, so much strength."


    He couldn''t help but smile. The Dragon Taming Whip''s inscriptions on the grip glowed with ebony light, and the length remained constant. Observing Sea Smoke''s state, Rhaegar discerned some clues.


    The Dragon Taming Whipbined the divine effects of Toughness, Activity, Binding, and Strengthening Binding Spell. Whipshes caused dragon pain, while the whip''s binding forcibly awakened the raging dragon.


    "Worthy of being a dragon taming tool, the effect is outstanding."


    Rhaegar couldn''t contain his excitement. Ancient Valyria had thrived for so many years, having such magical tools was not unexpected. Putting it on the battlefield, a Dragonlord wielding a dragon taming whip would be invincible.


    A sh of insight crossed his mind. "If the Dragon Taming Whip is this powerful, wouldn''t the Dragon''s Horn that calls upon dragons be invincible?"


    He shook his head. The Dragon Taming Whip specialized in controlling dragons. The Dragon''s Horn had sparse written records, with no detailed efficacy. It was roughly described as calling for the return of distant partners.


    There was a premise: what was the number of partners called for?

 Chapter 423: Dorn’s Reckoning

    Chapter 423: Dorn��s Reckoning


    "Ancient Valyria''s strength lingers on."


    Rhaegar sighed with admiration as he loosened the dragon taming whip''s hold on Sea Smoke.


    "Roar..."


    Sea Smoke shook its head and gasped deeply, the whip''s strangling grip nearly suffocating it.


    "Sea Smoke, I won''t stop you from searching for Laenor, but you''re not allowed to go around attacking anymore."


    Rhaegar wrapped the dragon taming whip around his arm and walked fearlessly towards the dragon. Sea Smoke''s vertical pupils were filled with confusion as it continued to gasp for air.


    Rhaegar held out his hand, palm facing the dragon''s muzzle. He understood the bond between dragon and rider, and he didn''t want to force Sea Smoke back to Dragonstone Ind, but he had to stop it from causing more damage.


    "Roar..."


    Sea Smoke seemed to understand, stretching its head forward despite its neck and spine being mped down by Cannibal''s dark, sharp ws. Cannibal nced down, revealing its interlocking fangs.


    Despite both being dragons, the size difference was staggering. Cannibal''s massive wings could easily envelop Sea Smoke, making the younger dragon seem unusually small byparison��only about a quarter of Cannibal''s size.


    Rhaegar looked at his Great Evil Dragon and smiled helplessly. "Cannibal, let go of it."


    His dragon blood granted him an extra ability: sensing a dragon''s emotions. Earlier, his blood had burned hot, representing Sea Smoke''s intense hostility. Now, with the blood flowing normally, he sensed no immediate danger.


    "Roar-"


    Cannibal growled a warning but moved its thick, sharp ws away. Sea Smoke twisted its body and retracted its spread wings.


    "Sea Smoke, give me an answer."


    Rhaegar''s tone was firm. Sea Smoke''s vertical pupils shed with struggle, but after a brief hesitation, it approached, touching its light silver scales to the boy''s outstretched palm.


    Rhaegar''s eyes burned as he rubbed Sea Smoke''s muzzle, feeling the cold, smooth texture of its scales, so different from Cannibal''s rougher hide.


    "Good, obey."


    "Roar...."


    Sea Smoke roared softly, its body rxing as it slowly climbed to its feet.


    Rhaegar gazed at Sea Smoke, a sh of pity in his eyes.


    It was highly likely that Laenor had met an untimely end.


    All the current Targaryens controlled a dragon, and his child was yet to be born. Otherwise, he might have attempted to tame Sea Smoke, potentially weakening the House Vryon in the process.


    Rhaegar''s mind raced with thoughts. ording to intelligence, Laenor was probably killed by his current lover, Cole. This theory was supported by Cole''s disappearance and the discovery of Laenor''s former lover, Joffrey, hidden in the barracks. As for Corlys, the Sea Snake...


    "With Laenor gone, the Sea Snake is without an heir," Rhaegar mused with mixed feelings.


    Sea Snake and Aunt Rhaenys were too old, and their granddaughters were almost grown, making it impossible for them to have another child. The Vryon House had some branches, but with Sea Snake''s power-hungry personality, he wouldn''t willingly give up control.


    "Heh, a generation that fights for power and has no sessors," Rhaegarughed darkly.


    "Roar..."


    Sea Smoke arched its head, staring warily at the ck dragon, then turned and lifted its wings to take off. Cannibal''s green vertical pupils flinched as its wide wings spread out.


    "Cannibal, let it go."


    Rhaegar watched the light silver dragon''s figure and spoke out to stop it.


    Sea Smoke wouldn''t leave the Westeros continent. If it couldn''t find Laenor, it would naturally return to Driftmark Ind or Dragonstone Ind. It just so happened that Jeyne was pregnant, and the two young dragons, Stormcloud and Tyraxes, were not enough to share. Sea Smoke was also an option.


    As the dragon''s shadow disappeared into the sky, Rhaegar mounted Cannibal and said, "Cannibal, fly!"


    "Roar--"


    Cannibal rose into the air, soaring westward along the Rainwood.


    ...


    Stonehelm


    The gray walls of Stonehelm bore the scars of relentless bombardment, marked by the devastating impact of rolling stones and giant crossbows. Steel spears jutted out from the battlements, lodged deep and immovable.


    Atop the towering tower, a new g bearing the "ck Gate" insignia pped in the wind, having reced the "ck and White Swan" banner of House Swann.


    "Roar!"


    A powerful dragon roar echoed across thendscape, a mud-colored dragon casting a massive shadow as it circled overhead.


    "Dracarys!"


    The silver-haired Aemond rode upon the dragon''s back, a gleeful grin spread across his face as they dove towards the city.


    Sheepstealer''s chaotic vertical pupils gleamed as it plummeted downward, unleashing a torrent of Dragonfire, its mes speckled with mud and debris.


    "Dodge! The dragon ising!"


    "Load the Scorpion Crossbows!"


    Panic seized the Dornish soldiers on the city walls, their voices rising in terror.


    Boom--


    Dragonfire swept across the ground, igniting the walls and sending screams into the air as brown mes licked up the stones.


    Whoosh! Whoosh!


    Several powerful scorpion crossbows on the battlements fired their steel-tipped bolts.


    "Roar..."


    Sheepstealer shrieked, deftly dodging the iing projectiles with a powerful p of its wings.


    Aemond''s eyes sparkled with excitement as hemanded, "Sheepstealer, burn them all!"


    The dragon snorted and soared over the city, unleashing another burst of Dragonfire, targeting a new position each time.


    Grinning, Aemond looked down at the chaos below, watching the Dornish soldiers scatter.


    Upon hearing of House Swann''s downfall, he hade swiftly, riding the fierce Sheepstealer and leading two thousand storm warriors.


    His smile unwavering, Aemond drew a three-foot-long keeled horn from his back, took a deep breath, and blew it with all his might.


    Wooooo~


    The solemn sound of the horn cut through the din of battle, its call reaching every corner of the besieged city.


    "Charge!"


    At the sound, the Storm Knights surged forward, brandishing thick shields as they sprinted towards Stonehelm.


    The Dornish defenders, doubly nervous, fired back through the arrow slits with Myr''s specialized triple-shot crossbows.


    Behind the walls, a dozen stone throwers stood ready, loaded with heavy stones to hurl down upon the attackers.


    Boom! Boom!


    Rolling stones crashed into the path of the storm knights, causing significant casualties instantly.


    "No retreat! Keep charging!"


    Themander shouted at the top of his lungs, holding his giant shield high and leading the charge.


    Encouraged by his example, the warriors surged forward, braving the rolling stones and crossbow bolts raining down from the walls.


    Throughout history, the attacking side had to outnumber the defending side or face certain death. Yet, they continued with courage and determination.


    Unconsciously, they nced up and saw the rotting, mud-colored dragon hovering above, bombarding the city walls again and again.


    It was Sheepstealer''s presence that imbued the Storm Knights with an unyielding spirit. The Targaryen princes led the way on the battlefield, and the firepower of a full-grown dragon made the assault more manageable.


    "Roar!"


    Sheepstealer shifted to avoid a scorpion crossbow attack and retaliated with a st of Dragonfire.


    Aemond''s face beamed with pride, showing no signs of fear or surprise.


    His brother had taught him the art of war: use dragon firepower for suppression, then send in the troops to break through, even when outnumbered. Aemond had absorbed this lesson well.


    Inside the inner wall, Olyvar Yronwood''s expression darkened. He barked orders, "Archers, move out! Coordinate with the scorpion crossbows to bring down the dragon!"


    "Yes, my lord."


    The adjutant replied and ryed themand.


    Soon, a group of well-equipped archers appeared at various high points around Stonehelm. At the signal, they unleashed a rain of arrows.


    "Roar!"


    Sheepstealer spewed Dragonfire before quickly disengaging from the low-altitudebat. The Dragonfire''s range was limited, necessitating a dive with each attack.


    Though the iron arrows couldn''t prate Sheepstealer''s scales, they managed to harass and distract it.


    Sheepstealer''s deep brown pupils shed with curiosity as it nced around. While the arrows didn''t break its defenses, they still caused some difort.


    "Sheepstealer, Dracarys!"


    Aemond dropped his keeled horn and urged the dragon on with a p to its back.


    Sheepstealer grunted and reluctantly swooped down.


    Aemond, not one to be gentle,manded, "Aim at the archers!"


    "Roar!"


    Sheepstealer hissed and glided sideways over a row of archers hiding behind the women''s wall, unleashing a torrent of Dragonfire.


    Boom-


    "Help, I''m on fire!"


    "Run..."


    Dozens of archers screamed in agony, some burning to death instantly, while others ran around like headless chickens. One unfortunate archer, in his panic, fell off the city wall, meeting a grisly end on the ground below.


    At the base of the wall, Storm Knights formed a protective shield wall as they pushed a siege wagon toward the city gate. The wall, riddled with shooting holes, allowed for crossbow bolts to be fired through the gaps, hitting the warriors with deadly precision. Many fell, unable to shield their vital areas from the assault.


    Rumble...


    Without siegedders, the Storm Knights resorted to brute force, sacrificing lives to break through the city gates.


    Olyvar Yronwood, watching the coordination between the dragon and the army, grew increasingly concerned. "Bring out the old and weak of House Swann!" he ordered, his voice filled with urgency.


    The situation was dire, and the city seemed likely to fall. Olyvar hoped the Targaryen boy would be reckless enough to do something that would make him infamous across the continent.


    Though his expression was grim, Olyvar remained calm inside. The invasion of the Stornds was part of arger strategy devised by Prince Qoren. The primary goal was to seize supplies and, if possible, upy Stonehelm as a valuable foothold. If the city couldn''t be held, they could always retreat.


    Prince Qoren''s real goal was the Prince''s Pass and the Boneway, the two seemingly impregnable routes into the Rivends. Looting the Stornds was only a prelude to plundering the Reach.


    Dorne was impoverished, and this year''s harvest was particrly poor. War was necessary to survive, and it provided an opportunity to gain the support of various hidden allies.


    The Iron Throne''s control over the Triarchy and the Stepstones Inds meant that Dorne''s ess to the sea would soon be cut off. With the Targaryen Heir Prince��s ruthless nature, Dorne��s destruction seemed inevitable unless they acted now.


    "Roar!"


    Above the city walls, Sheepstealer swooped back and forth, targeting the archers hidden in the shadows.


    Whoosh! Whoosh! Scorpion crossbows fired repeatedly, trying in vain to intercept the fierce, rotten dragon.


    Aemond poked his head out, scanning the chaotic battlefield below, feeling a surge of anxiety. His attack strategy had seemed sound, but numerous issues had arisen. The siege wagons were ineffective, and the Storm Knights couldn��t breach the city gates.


    Sheepstealer, while attacking the archers, had to divert his attention to bombard the Dornish soldiers on the walls, spreading his firepower thin. Dornish soldiers retaliated with stones, rolling logs, and ming oil, inflicting heavy casualties on the Storm Knights.


    Aemond''s face hardened with frustration as he realized that despite their efforts, the battle was slipping out of control. The Storm Knights fought valiantly, but without breaking through the gates, they were trapped in a deadly stalemate.

 Chapter 424: Aemond’s Petty Thoughts

    Chapter 424: Aemond��s Petty Thoughts


    "Sheepstealer, focus on the soldiers at the city''s head first!" Aemondmanded, abandoning his attempt to attack the archers.


    The Sheepstealer''s dragon head turned upward, reversing its direction, and it unleashed a torrent of Dragonfire toward the Dornish soldiers defending the city.


    Boom...


    The brown, mud-colored Dragonfire cascaded down, igniting the oil with a loud bang and setting the rolling logs aze. A brilliant blood-red glow illuminated the gray city walls.


    "Hahahaha..."


    Above the blood and fire, the ugly, rotting mud dragon soared back and forth, apanied by Aemond''s recklessughter.


    Whoosh! Whoosh! In an instant, several steel spears flew towards Sheepstealer, attempting to level the ying field.


    The Sheepstealer dodged nimbly, roaring in defiance.


    Suddenly, there was amotion on the walls. Dornish soldiers shoved a dozen old and infirm women and children towards the edge.


    The Dornish officer hid behind the women''s wall and shouted vilely, "Retreat at once, or we''ll kill all the prisoners!"


    With that, the dozen old and weak women and children were pushed forward by spears.


    Below the city wall, the Storm Knights hesitated and looked up at the group of captives.


    Seeing the familiar faces, many of them broke into curses of disdain and anger.


    "Dracarys!" Aemond was toozy to waste time negotiating.


    "Roar..."


    Sheepstealer swooped down and unleashed a mouthful of Dragonfire onto the city wall.


    With a pop, the explosion sent up a mushroom cloud of smoke and fire, engulfing the captives.


    Before the Dornish could react, Sheepstealer circled back and sprayed Dragonfire again.


    Boom...


    Dozens of Dornish soldiers were incinerated, leaving charred remains.


    The speed of this attack caught everyone off guard. Soldiers on both sides were stunned, not expecting the captives to die so quickly.


    "What are you waiting for? Attack the city!" Aemond crouched on Sheepstealer''s back, urging his troops forward.


    The siege reached a climax.


    The Dornish soldiers defended the city, while the Storm Knights attacked with renewed vigor.


    A fierce stalemate formed between the siege wagon and the city gate.


    Aemond and Sheepstealer''s assaults caused significant casualties.


    Despite this, the Dornish held their ground, dying the Storm Knights'' breakthrough.


    As time passed, casualties on both sides mounted.


    "Roar--"


    A pitch-ck dragon shadow suddenly appeared, diving headlong through the clouds, trailing rolling green fire.


    A cold voice, like that of a waxing moon in winter, rang out.


    "Retreat!"


    An aura of ashes swept across Stonehelm, causing Sheepstealer to turn its head in fear and flee with its rider.


    "What are you doing? Don''t run away!" Aemond was confused, struggling toprehend the abrupt retreat.


    The earth shook as infernal green mes formed a massive fireball, crashing into the gray city wall like a meteorite.


    In an instant, the wall seemed to melt and copse, resembling a candle disintegrating under intense heat.


    "Roar!"


    Another thunderous dragon roar echoed through the battlefield as a blue dragon burst forth from the churning clouds above.


    Hena, her expression firm, shouted, "Dracarys!"


    Dreamfyre''s sleek and well-proportioned body darted down like a streak, unleashing Dragonfire.


    Miserable screams followed as a group of archers hiding in the shadows were incinerated into ash.


    It was midday, and three massive dragons hovered in the air, each a different color, like three zing suns.


    Aemond stared in astonishment at his siblings who had appeared out of nowhere.


    Rhaegar shot him a stern look and admonished, "What are you staring at? Focus on the battle! I''ll deal with youter!"


    "Huh?" Aemond stammered, feeling a pang of fear.


    Dreamfyre brushed past Sheepstealer, and Hena, tense and determined, warned, "You''re in trouble now."


    "Don''t..." Aemond extended a hand, trying to exin himself.


    Hena shook her head, her expression cold, and flew away on Dreamfyre, not wanting to waste time on her brother.


    The siege was far from over, and there was no time to deal with sibling squabbles.


    Aemond turned to Rhaegar with a pleading look, as if to say, "What did I do wrong?"


    "Roar-"


    Cannibal didn''t give him a chance to ponder, ascending high into the air before diving back down with a powerful swoop.


    Rhaegar''s expression remained calm, his hair whipping about as if it had a life of its own.


    Boom--


    The ck dragon hovered in mid-air, its massive form blocking out the sun beforending steadily on its hind feet just a dozen meters from the ground.


    Dust billowed, enveloping the battlefield.


    The Storm Knights trembled, momentarily forgetting to continue their assault in the presence of the formidable dragon.


    Rhaegar raised his chin andmanded, "Get out of the way!"


    The Storm Knights quickly scattered in all directions, abandoning even the siege weapons.


    Rhaegar felt a surge of satisfaction and patted the back of his pitch-ck dragon.


    "Roar--"


    Cannibal roared mightily, its powerful tail whipping forward like a battering ram.


    With one swift blow, the city gate shattered into rubble.


    "Gulp~"


    The Storm Knights stared wide-eyed, swallowing hard to suppress their awe.


    The solid wood doors splintered into pieces, and the reinforced iron crumbled, reducing the once formidable gate to tatters in seconds.


    Rhaegar roared, "The city is breached! Charge!"


    "Long live the Young Dragonlord!"


    "Long live the prince!"


    The Storm Knights cheered and surged into the city with their massive shields held high.


    Fighting for the Targaryens was exhrating.


    The dragons made the battle seem almost effortless.


    Rhaegar watched in silence, instructing Cannibal to take to the skies for an aerial assault.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal let out a low growl, its tailshing wildly.


    Fortunately, the city gate was not as sturdy as it appeared, otherwise, the dragon''s wings might have been injured.


    Rhaegar gave the dragon a knowing look, indicating he understood its impatience.


    He had intended for Dragonfire to clear the way, but Cannibal''s brute force was equally effective.


    After a moment, the ck dragon soared back into the air.


    Dreamfyre and Sheepstealer''s coordinated attacks had already dealt devastating blows to the defending soldiers.


    The spectral green Dragonfire rained down, and the battle quickly turned in favor of the Targaryens.


    "Run, the dragons areing!"


    "To the secret passage, quickly!"


    The city was engulfed in mes, and the Dornish soldiers'' cries of anguish filled the air as they fled, their bodies aze.


    ...


    As night fell, Rhaegar, d in ck robes, strode purposefully through the gray city walls. His siblings, Hena and Aemond, trailed behind him like shadows. Hena wore a green cloak over her ck attire, while Aemond, simrly dressed in green, kept his head bowed, looking defeated.


    Hena remained silent, asionally muttering to herself. Aemond, feeling his brother''s displeasure, dared not utter a word.


    The siblings walked past storm warriors who were diligently cleaning up the battlefield. Outside the city, under the moonlight, a massive green bonfire illuminated the night a a ck dragon breathed Dragonfire onto a mountain of faceless soldiers.


    "Prince, the headcount isplete," a tall officer reported, approaching Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar halted and inquired, "How many?"


    The officer hesitated before responding, "More than two thousand three hundred Dornish were killed in battle. We captured three thousand five hundred, including dozens of nobles and knights."


    Rhaegar frowned. "There were at least ten thousand men besieging Stonehelm."


    The officer lowered his head guiltily and whispered, "Hundreds are said to have escaped through secret passages and are still being tracked down. Additionally, a group looted properties near Stonehelm and smuggled them away in advance."


    The Dornish, like locusts, had ravaged everything in their path. From Crow''s Nest in the north to Mistwood in the east, numerous towns had been plundered.


    Rhaegar sighed darkly, recognizing the ruthlessness of the Dornish strategy. "Qoren is truly ruthless," he muttered, grudgingly respecting the Prince of Dorne''s tactics.


    The officer then asked, "Prince, the dungeon is full. Do we need to build temporary prisons?"


    "Are they worthy?" Rhaegar''s gaze turned icy. "Detain the nobles and knights. Execute all ordinary prisoners of war."


    Nobles were often kept for prisoner exchanges, but Rhaegar had no patience for ordinary soldiers. If they sought death, he would grant it to them.


    The officer, feeling the intensity of Rhaegar''s stare, quickly retreated. "Yes, Prince."


    Rhaegar nced at his siblings andmanded, "Follow me."


    ...


    Inside the castle, the three siblings walked in silence toward the hospitality hall. Aemond, visibly anxious, finally spoke up, "Brother, why did you suddenlye?" Then he turned to Hena, pleading, "Sister."


    Hena, clearly uninterested in intervening, edged away, fearing what was toe.


    Rhaegar suddenly stopped and turned, his gaze sharp as he addressed Aemond. "Lord Swann was killed in battle, Olyvar Yronwood escaped, and the House Swann captives were burned alive by you," he said, his tone even, merely stating the facts.


    "I didn''t mean to..." Aemond stammered, his voice small.


    "Not on purpose? Then what was on purpose?" Rhaegar''s voice rose, and he lifted his hand high.


    "I''m sorry, I didn''t think that General Dorn would run," Aemond closed his eyes, bracing for impact.


    Thump.


    A breeze brushed past his ear, and therge handnded not so lightly on his shoulder. Aemond shivered, slowly opening his eyes to find Rhaegar''s face calm, his eyes deep and thoughtful.


    "Brother," Aemond mumbled.


    "Aemond, I rarely beat you; Aegon experienced more of that," Rhaegar began. "In my opinion, you should be a smart kid, as evidenced by the way you lined up your troops andmanded the siege."


    Without the help of amander, Aemond led an army alone to defend Rainwood.


    The attack on the city today was also fought with ferocity, even if the casualties were high, the city would fall sooner orter.


    In war alone, the boy proved himself far more talented than Aegon, who neglected his education.


    Aemond remained silent.


    Rhaegar continued, his voiceced with frustration, "Lord Swann died in battle, your reputation stinks, and the House Swann prisoners of war were killed by you. The royal family''s reputation will be implicated by your actions."


    No matter how powerful a ruler, the loyalty of his subjects is essential.


    It was a very dishonorable move for Aemond to deliberately dy the battle and ignore the deaths of his allies in the midst of a war.


    Ask yourself, who would serve a narrow-minded tyrant who caused the death of people and the destruction of their homes?


    Aemond''s selfish desires not only tarnished his future reputation in the Stornds but also brought dishonor to the Targaryen name.


    Aemond''s eyes flickered as he sought help from his sister, but Hena remained indifferent.


    Rhaegar cupped his brother''s face, his voice icy, "Aemond, do you even know what you''re doing?"


    Aemond trembled, his lips quivering, "I..."


    He knew he was wrong but couldn''t control his desire for revenge. A minor lord had disrespected him, and it had always gnawed at him.


    Rhaenyra and Rhaegar had their own fiefdoms and the support of the princes and advisors. Even Aegon had a fiefdom and a castle built by their elder brother.


    Free city-states like Myr and Lys were out of reach, and the royal family had nond left to divide into fiefs. After much thought, Aemond set his sights on Stonehelm.


    When Dorne''s rebellion started, with Rhaegar''s nature, it was inevitable that he would subdue Dorne. By upying Stonehelm, Aemond aimed to gain war credit.


    Once Dorne was pacified, Stonehelm''s harbor, connected to the Stepstones Inds and the Triarchy, would control Cape Wrath, the lower half of the Narrow Sea, and the sea routes of the Disputed Land. It would ensure a prosperous future in seafaring trade.

 Chapter 425: Dragon Essence

    Chapter 425: Dragon Essence


    Rhaegar''s gaze was intense, piercing through Aemond, who couldn''t meet his eyes.


    Hena, calmly curling her fingers in her hair, stated, "He wants a castle."


    "Huh?" Aemond was taken aback.


    Hena''s blunt words hung in the air, and she silently looked away.


    Rhaegar was on the verge ofughing in anger, "Worthy of being my younger brother, so perceptive."


    With control over the Triarchy and the Stepstones Inds, the lower half of the Narrow Sea was securely in Targaryen hands. Nas Ind in the Stornds and Stonehelm in Cape Wrath were strategic points within this route.


    Aemond, panicked and at a loss for words, stammered, "No, I was just thinking."


    Bang!


    Rhaegar raised his hand and smacked Aemond on the head. The sound was sharp and clear.


    Aemond winced in pain, covering his head and shrinking back.


    Hena nced at him, then chose to ignore it. He deserved the beating.


    Rhaegar grabbed Aemond''s ear, his anger palpable. "If you want a castle, you can talk to me. My father and I haven''t treated you so badly that you need to resort to trickery. You''re really making the royal family proud."


    "Ouch! Ouch!" Aemond was pulled up on his tiptoes, not daring to resist.


    Aegon had grown up being whacked by their elder brother, and Aemond vividly remembered those experiences. The worst was when Rhaegar terrorized Aegon by hanging him on the gallows for everyone to see.


    "You''re really something!" Rhaegar shook him repeatedly, as if he were carrying a chicken.


    Of the three younger brothers, Rhaegar thought the most highly of Aemond. He admired the boy''s boldness in taming a dragon, seeing in him the same spirit he had had as a child. How could he be so calcting?


    Hena couldn''t maintain her expression and turned her back, her words cutting, "If you want a castle, you have to pay the price."


    "Sister! ~" Aemond''s voice was tearful as he begged for help.


    He was only 10 years old, and being handled like this was overwhelming.


    Hena inclined her head, pretending not to hear.


    "Don''t scream!" Rhaegar growled.


    He now wanted to beat this troublesome brother to a pulp. Aemond was really good at getting into trouble!


    The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.


    Rhaegar''s smile was cold and ruthless. "Let me ask you, who do you expect to clean up your mess when you dy the upation of the Stornds and kill House Swann?"


    Alicent? Otto?


    Aemond trembled, not daring to cry out in pain. He knew his mother and grandfather weren''t capable of handling the massive trouble he''d caused.


    Rhaegar''s smile widened, his arm swinging as he shook Aemond. "If you can''t answer, you''re expecting Father and me to clean up after you. What a beautiful thought!"


    "I was wrong," Aemond whimpered, closing his eyes in apology. He hadn''t thought things through. He assumed that once House Swann was gone and the Dornish were driven away, Stonehelm would be his for the taking.


    Bang!


    Rhaegar raised his leg and kicked, causing Aemond to stumble. "Get lost, there''ll be consequences for you!"


    "Yes," Aemond responded, grateful for the reprieve. Whimpering, he ran off. "I''ll get Olyvar Yronwood back."


    Rhaegar shouted, "Get lost!" Aemond didn''t dare to look back. Covering his red, swollen, and bloodied ears, he ran away as fast as he could.


    "Idiot," Hena muttered, her heart aching a little. Aegon had always been foolish, and now Aemond seemed infected.


    "Isn''t that the same for you?" Rhaegar reached out, messing up Hena''s hair.


    Hena''s eyes watered, her pink lips pouted, silently using: After scolding him, will you scold me too?


    Rhaegar rolled his eyes, walking to the main seat in the hall. He sat down, propping his chin with one hand. "Why are you here? How''s King''s Landing?"


    He had bumped into Hena halfway; she had been riding Dreamfyre with a determined look, speeding towards Meleys. Her presence suggested something significant had happened in King''s Landing.


    Hena furrowed her brows, smoothing her disheveled hair. "Dorne is preparing for an all-out attack. I snuck out," she said sharply, detailing the decisions of the Small Council.


    Rhaegar listened in silence. It was pretty much what he had guessed. The main force of the Dornish ransacked the Stornds, while stragglers invaded the Prince''s Pass and the Boneway to deplete the poption of the Dornish Territory. With Braavos and other forces pushing from behind, it might actually work if the two fortresses were caught off guard.


    Rhaegar had a sh of insight into what Qoren Martell''s mind might be. First of all, was the Dornish Rebellion necessary? It was necessary!


    The Triarchy beyond the Narrow Sea had been conquered, so how could the Dornish Territory, which had been feuding with the Iron Throne for generations, escape?


    Rhaegar''s initial target of aggression was the rtively barren Dornish Territory. Analyzing Dorne''s environment, national conditions, and internal situation revealed a bleak picture.


    Recent harvests had been poor, leaving civilians without enough food to eat. Despite this, Dorne had a substantial poption, much stronger than the North. Gathering 20,000 soldiers to counter the invasion of the Stornds wouldn''t be a problem, especially if Braavos and other supporters provided food and equipment.


    Given that the Dornish regrly vited the border, it was no surprise they would go to war. When the Triarchy was fully controlled, the Iron Throne would cut off sea routes in the lower Narrow Sea.


    What should Dorn do? Should they until a fleet of dragons fly to Sunspear to spray Dragonfire indiscriminately?


    Fighting now would at least weaken the Iron Throne, destabilize the three city-states, and aid Braavos in their counterattacks.


    Rhaegar sighed softly, "People are poor, andnd is always the root of struggle." The Targaryens needed newnd, and so did the Dornish.


    Hena, somewhat confused, asked softly, "What happens if Olyvar Yronwood escapes?"


    Rhaegar waved his hand dismissively, "It''s fine, the man can run, but Dorne can''t escape."


    First, there was the invasion of the Stornds, and then the moviments in the Vulture Mountains. The war had begun to spiral out of control.


    Qoren didn''t want to fight, but he had no choice. The Iron Throne wanted to avoid conflict even more, but the noble lords on both sides hated each other and wouldn''t willingly stop the war.


    Rhaegar knew his next steps: lead his army to clean up the remnants of the Dornish forces in the Stornds and then support the Vulture Mountains. If Qoren remained unconvinced, Rhaegar had three ways to crush him.


    Hena said, "Father is on his way to ckhaven on his dragon, can we help?"


    "Of course," Rhaegar replied.


    Hena hesitated, "But what about the Triarchy? Are you sure you can leave them?"


    She was only 13 years old, and the farthest she had ever traveled was thest time she sped to White Harbor. The free trade city-states had a great reputation, and it was said that each one was worth no less than a realm of territory on the continent of Westeros.


    Rhaegar smiled, his eyes softening. "Don''t worry, Aunt Rhaenys is in charge there."


    Then, seemingly to satisfy his sister''s curiosity, he shared a bit about the inner workings of the city-states.


    "Lys has over two million people?" Hena''s eyes lit up.


    Rhaegar nodded with a smile, "Lys is the most populous Free City among the Triarchy. There are more freed ves than can be counted."


    Carefully calcted, the Northern Realm probably had a poption of more than 300,000 people, and Dorne had about 500,000. Compared to the Triarchy, it wasn''t even as populous as King''s Landing, which had a resident poption of up to half a million people.


    "Such poor countryside," Rhaegar thought to himself.


    Hena smiled and jumped into her brother''s arms, her little head nuzzling him affectionately. Having not seen him for a few days, the little girl wanted to be close.


    Rhaegar was a bit ufortable at first, but he couldn''t resist Hena''s enthusiasm. After a while, he noticed the tight bracelet on her wrist.


    "You''re still wearing this bracelet?" Rhaegar asked.


    Hena arched her head, not bothering to look up.


    Rhaegar took her hand. The bracelet was as simple as the silver-gray one from ten years ago, almost tightening around her wrist.


    "It''s too small; don''t wear it," Rhaegar said with some pity. He took off Hena''s bracelet and reced it with the space bracelet he was wearing.


    The space bracelet, imbued with magic, automatically adjusted to the wearer''s size and fit perfectly on Hena''s wrist.


    Hena''s eyes sparkled as she whispered, "Is this for me?"


    Rhaegar was amused, "Keep it safe. It''s degrading to keep wearing imitations."


    He suddenly remembered he had given Rhaenyra a Valyrian steel ne while Hena had only an imitation. At that time, it was still Erryk who paid for it, costing one and a half gold dragons.


    Hena raised a smile and innocently asked, "What will you use if you give this to me?"


    "Good question. I have a better one," Rhaegar said, pulling out the space ne from under his cor and waving it around conspicuously.


    The ne had more space and was easier to carry. Hena looked at it and realized it was Valyrian steel with a somewhat nice appearance.


    She raised a small white hand, admiring the space bracelet and ne, feeling very happy.


    Rhaegar chuckled. With the space ne, the role of the bracelet was reduced. But a storage tool was still precious. He originally wanted to give it to Rhaenyra as a first gift for the birth of her twins. But stumbling upon Hena still wearing the imitation bracelet, he didn''t want to favor one over the other.


    "It''s so pretty."


    Hena, as if she had been given the most precious treasure, admired the bracelet for a while. Then, she discreetly reced the imitation bracelet with the space bracelet.


    Rhaegar noticed her actions but didn''t say anything. Instead, he took out a piece of broken dragon scale from the ne.


    Hena''s eyes widened in fascination. The dragon scale, even though half-mutted, was still palm-sized. Dreamfyre''splete scales were only about the size of a palm. The original owner of this tattered dragon scale must have beenrger than Vhagar and Cannibal.


    Rhaegar pondered for a moment and then made up his mind. "Cut your finger and drop a drop of blood on it."


    He had a hunch that the Fourteen mes Remnant might activate some sort of relic tied to the dragons. With Rhaenyra pregnant and unable to go into battle, Hena was more suitable to activate this relic.


    Zira-


    Without hesitation, Hena took the tattered dragon scale and cut a slit in her finger. Blood oozed out, staining the surface of the dragon scale.


    Rhaegar admired her decisiveness.


    "Here you go, brother."


    Hena sipped her injured finger and handed back the tattered dragon scale. Rhaegar did the same, cutting his finger, and let the crimson beads of blood drip onto the scale. The two different types of blood flowed together, blending and seeping into the dragon scale.


    In the next second, the dragon scale bloomed with bright red light.


    "Congrattions, the Fourteen mes Remnant have been activated. You have obtained..."


    [Dragon Essence]


    Grade: Legendary (Red)


    Effect: Enhances the growth speed of a dragon (only up to adult dragons)


    Evaluation: "The size of a dragon grows with age, and one dragon lived to be three hundred years old."


    The tattered dragon scale underwent a metamorphosis, transforming into aplete scale covered in strange inscriptions. Uncontrolled by Rhaegar, it lightlynded on top of Hena''s head with a snap.


    "Ahh~" Hena grunted.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were full of helplessness as he looked at Hena, who had scrunched up her face, and then at the bronze scales on her skull.


    Flipping through the font of the system panel, he could only think, "Foolishness has its blessings."


    "How did it turn out like this?" Hena rubbed her head and removed the bronze scales that had smashed into her.


    Rhaegar exined, "It''s good stuff. Feed it to Dreamfyre."


    The column of effects was clearly described: suitable only up to adult dragons.


    Cannibal was around 90 years old, with a body size of more than 170 years old,parable to Vhagar had long been an adult dragon. Feeding it to Dreamfyre, who was of a suitable age and slightly inferior in size, was just right.


    It would quickly raise an adult giant dragon.

 Chapter 426: Changes In Dreamfyre

    Chapter 426: Changes In Dreamfyre


    The following day, two giant dragons, one ck and one blue, soared over the smoke-ridden Stonehelm, their majestic forms casting shadows on the scorched earth below. The ashes spread for miles beyond the city walls.


    Suddenly, the ground gently trembled as arge group of Storm Knights arrived on horseback, numbering around two thousand. Leading them was Royce Caron, the Lord of Nightsong.


    The Storm Knights set up camp outside the city, and some of the officers entered the castle. Royce, filled with apprehension, climbed the broken gray walls.


    Beneath a watchtower facing the sea, Rhaegar stood with his elbows braced against the wall, quietly admiring the flow of the ocean waves. War wore down one''s patience, and a beautiful view was more nourishing to the mind.


    "Brother, Lord Caron is here," Hena announced. She was draped in a green cloak, with two strands of silver hair behind her ears, braiding her long silver and gold locks.


    Rhaegar nced sideways to see the middle-aged, stout man with a changed expression. Royce knelt on one knee and said in a muffled voice, "I apologize for failing to fulfill my role asmander, leading to this disaster."


    He referred to the fall of House Swann. As fellow Stornds nobles and garrison families, he felt responsible for their downfall.


    Rhaegar rubbed his brow and sighed softly. "It''s good that you recognize the problem. I don''t have the time to pursue responsibility now." He turned around and leaned against the wall with a natural movement, exuding calm and collected energy.


    Royce stole a nce at the Heir Prince''s side profile, feeling ashamed. "Prince, I will exterminate the remnants of Dorn that infest the Stornds as soon as possible."


    Hena observed the exchange, quietly learning her brother''s way of handling matters.


    Rhaegar''s eyes rippled with seriousness. "Olyvar Yronwood fled, the remnants of Dorn are not a big problem. I want to ask for advice on the Vulture Mountains."


    Since ancient times, the Dornish territories had frequently shed with the Reach and Stornds, with mutual aggression and harassment bing the norm. Thisrge-scale Dorn invasion of the Stornds was still very rare.


    With three dragons in the Stornds, it was only a matter of time before the Dornishbatmander was caught and the remnants wiped out. Rhaegar suspected Qoren''s actions would go far beyond that, anticipating a massive invasion of the Prince''s Pass and Boneway.


    Royce''s face changed slightly, as if he had thought of a key factor. He quickly replied, "Nightsongcks soldiers and generals and relies on the support of the Lords of Highgarden. The prince should start from this aspect."


    As the Lord of Nightsong, Royce was aware of its vulnerabilities. He was here in Stonehelm, leaving Nightsong dependent on the brothers who stayed behind to watch over it.


    As a territory in the Dornish bordends, Nightsongcked fertilend by a river or a harbor with well-developed maritime transportation. It wasn''t rich by nature. The constant fighting with the Dornish had left the territoryrge in scope but sparse in poption.


    To man the fortress at the Prince''s Pass, Highgarden would need to provide both financial support and manpower.


    Rhaegar remained contemtive, remarking, "Lord Tyrell has long been out of the army."


    Though Highgarden''s old Tyrell was mediocre and a bit of a money-grubber, he was dedicated to his duties as the liege lord of the Reach.


    Royce hesitated briefly before adding, "Thebat power of the Reach''s army is limited, and it''s mostly forcefully recruited. It would be better for you to personally supervise it."


    It was well known that the armies of the Rivends and The Reach were the best equipped but often the least effective. Old Lord Tyrell was old and pleasure-seeking by nature, and was unlikely to lead the army into battle. To fully utilize theirbat power, it would be better for the Heir Prince to take over.


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed, understanding the deeper meaning in Royce''s words. The Reach was very rich. Excluding the Oldtown army that went out to sea to participate in the Battle of the Narrow Sea, there were at least 10,000 soldiers stationed at the Prince''s Pass. Properly utilized, thisrge-scale army could have a great impact.


    On a broader scale, once the Dornish Rebellion was quelled, Rhaegar''s prestige in The Reach would rise even higher, overshadowing the Highgarden Lords and Oldtown House Hightower.


    "Thank you for your advice, Lord Royce," Rhaegar said with a slight smile.


    "I wish you all the best," Royce replied, then retired.


    Once he was gone, the siblings looked at each other.


    Hena cocked her head and whispered, "Are we going to Highgarden?"


    She thought of the Little Rose in Highgarden, who had offered to befriend her.


    "Probably," Rhaegar replied ambiguously.


    For the time being, there were no less than three ces where war had broken out: Braavos attacking Pentos, the Stornds sweeping away the remnants of Dorne, and the threat from the Vulture Mountains.


    "Roar..."


    A sharp dragon roar interrupted the siblings'' chat. Rhaegar raised his eyes and saw an ugly, rotten dragon swooping in and circling the sea below the watchtower.


    "Baa..."


    The rotten dragon clutched a goofy goat in its ws.


    "It hasn''t given up yet," Hena said softly.


    "Roar..."


    The Sheepstealer hissed, trying and daring to move closer, curtly stimting the goat to screech. It seemed to want to exchange the goat for something.


    Rhaegar''s posture remained unchanged as he couldn''t help but smile, "This guy is really smart, just a bit unlike an adult dragon."


    Dragons were typically very proud, and the Sheepstealer''s behavior was somewhat undignified.


    Hena puffed out her cheeks and reached out her small hand to shake it, "There''s no more."


    She was speaking to the Sheepstealer. The rotten dragon scowled twice, its vertical pupils in its sunken eye sockets floating in scrutiny, hesitant to leave.


    "Roar-"


    The two giant dragons flying in the sky gradually descended and let out warning roars. Sheepstealer, caught in the act, hurriedly moved away.


    The two dragons closed their wings, their hind feetnding gracefully on the gray city wall.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal''s green eyes glowed, locking onto the deceitful Sheepstealer. It was clear that a sneaky dragon was never trustworthy.


    Dreamfyre roared softly, descending right next to Hena. Its elegant light blue dragon head reached over her shoulder.


    Hena smiled brightly, petting the tall dragon.


    Rhaegar observed the bond between his sister and her dragon, especially noting Dreamfyre''s radiant appearance. "Dreamfyre looks very spirited," hemented.


    This was the first dragon he had trulye into contact with up close. Slim with brilliant silver lines, its temperament was as outstanding as its appearance.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre''s vertical pupils nced over at Rhaegar. It opened its mouth slightly, a low roar escaping its throat.


    Hena rubbed her face against Dreamfyre, her voice filled with excitement. "Dreamfyre is in high spirits after eating that scale."


    Justst night, the siblings had given the [Dragon Essence] to Dreamfyre. Both Cannibal and Sheepstealer were present. Upon seeing the [Dragon Essence], Cannibal had remained calm, as if looking at an ordinary scale. Sheepstealer, on the other hand, had drooled, staring at the dragon scale-shaped [Dragon Essence] with glowing eyes. Dreamfyre had swiped it away with its tail, quickly devouring the scale.


    It seemed the [Dragon Essence] wasn''t attractive to fully adult dragons but caused those not yet at their peak to go berserk.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre arched its back, its vertical pupils fixed on Sheepstealer, who refused to leave. A pair of light blue wings spread out, giving a clear warning.


    Dreamfyre wasrge, with its head and tail spanning over eighty meters and a wingspan of up to one hundred meters. Though not asrge as Cannibal, and smaller than Vermithor and Silverwing of the same age, it was still more than enough to intimidate Sheepstealer.


    Caraxes and Meleys were around 60 to 70 meters in size, with Sheepstealer slightly over 70 meters. ording to the Dragonlords''s ancient records, Caraxes and Meleys were of normal size, while Sheepstealer was exceptional among stout dragons.


    Excluding the wild dragons, Caraxes and Meleys had more eye-catching talents despite their size. Caraxes, nicknamed Blood Wyrm, had a slender snake-like body, making it a mutant breed with a ferocious bloodthirsty personality and a strong, dominant Dragonfire. Meleys, known as the "fastest dragon," had yet to be surpassed in speed.


    Rhaegar, captivated, murmured to himself, "Size is not a decisive factor; the use of talent is what truly matters."


    "Roar..."


    Just as he was lost in thought, Dreamfyre lunged forward, baring its fangs ferociously.


    Sheepstealer immediately dropped the goat and flew away in a cloud of dust. As a wild dragon, knowing when to avoid a fight was also a crucial survival skill.


    Hena watched with delight, pleased with Dreamfyre''s newfound assertiveness. Dreamfyre had once been ferocious but rarely messed with other dragons. After swallowing the special scale, it had be very domineering.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre let out a low growl, rubbing its head lightly against Hena before pping its wings and flying away.


    Hena was stunned, her expression adorably confused. She seemed to sense Dreamfyre''s desire to express itself more fully��spitting Dragonfire, hunting with its powerful jaws ...


    It appeared to be a positive growth change.


    Hena didn��t hold back and told her brother everything.


    Rhaegar simply replied, "That''s a good thing."


    ...


    By the afternoon, Stonehelm was bustling with activity. Storm Knights patched the walls and gates while the remaining squires prepared cauldrons for cooking.


    "Princess..."


    "Princess..."


    Hena walked alone through the kitchen, greeted by passing cooks and squires. She nodded and checked the inventory in the cer.


    After the sacking by the Dornishmen, the cer and the granary were nearly empty, relying heavily on the dry food the Storm Knights had brought from Crow''s Nest. Hena, showing little emotion, meticulously checked everything.


    Her brother was discussing strategy with Lord Royce, so she had volunteered to oversee the cooking. Though it seemed a small task, she believed that every bit of learning was valuable. As she soon found out, cooking for an army was no easy task - it meant making sure the soldiers had enough to eat.


    Knock Knock!


    While she was making food, a loud noise came from the corridor outside the kitchen. Wiping sweat from her forehead, Hena suspiciously looked deeper into the corridor. Around a corner, a silver-blond head poked out.


    "Aemond?" Hena murmured, putting down the basin and seeking him out. The cooks around her didn��t notice, continuing their work.


    Soon, the siblings met in a hidden corner. Aemond looked sullen, deep in thought, and didn��t speak at first.


    "Ask directly if you have something to say; there��s no need to hide it," Hena said, her eyes clear and honest.


    "You ..." Aemond began, then looked around to ensure no one was listening. "I saw you and Rhaegar hugging."


    Hena asked directly, "So what do you want to say? Call off the engagement?"


    "No!" Aemond was startled and hurriedly stopped his sister. She was good at everything, but she had a mouth that loved to tell the truth.


    Hena shrugged and gazed at Aemond, giving him a straight look. Aemond tried to retort but gradually drooped his head, saying hopelessly, "You shouldn��t be like this. You��re almost an aunt."


    He had gone to look for the Sheepstealer in the morning and happened to see the two getting intimate on the walls. Worried, he advised, "Rhaenyra is a bad woman. If she knew about this, she��d sell you to a pleasure house in Lys."


    Hena: ...


    Worthy of being a child raised by their mother, even the words he said were the same.

 Chapter 427: If a Dragonlord Came…

    Chapter 427: If a Dragonlord Came��


    Hena rubbed her fingers in the dough with a bemused look, "Mother knows about this."


    "What!?" Aemond eximed in shock.


    "How could mother agree to this? She hates Rhaenyra and Rhaegar the most," he questioned, struggling to understand.


    Unless his mother is nning topromise and use her future as a bargaining chip.


    Hena shook her head, "Don''t be blind. I did it willingly; mother can''t control me anymore." She was being honest to avoid misunderstanding.


    "I''ve liked Rhaegar since I was a child. It''s useless for others to object," Hena exined calmly.


    Aemond couldn''t believe it, his face turning red with embarrassment, "You''re crazy. Targaryen no longer has the tradition of marrying more than one woman. You''re being a mistress!"


    His words were harsh and full of annoyance. He would rather Hena marry that fool Aegon. At least then she would have a name and live with dignity.


    "Who says I want to be a mistress, my dear brother?" Hena''s demeanor remained unchanged as she continued, "You should know about Lady Jeyne. Do you think a Lady would be a mistress?"


    Except when facing Rhaegar, she was intellectually sharp most of the time. Jeyne came from House Arryn of the Eyrie, and her character was just like their family motto: "As High as Honor!"


    She was still young and didn''t attract much attention. Sooner orter, Jeyne couldn''t hide and would take the first step to sh with Rhaenyra, opening up Targaryens to polygamy.


    Even if it vited the unwritten rules set by her great-grandfather and the Faith of the Seven, the Faith of the Seven would not dare to say anything more.


    A Lady personally pushed for it, along with Rhaegar''s heroic conquests, would gradually restore the tradition.


    She just had to bide her time and assist wlessly at the right moment.


    Indeed.


    Her ambition was to emte the formidable Queen Visenya Targaryen, not merely to bask in reflected glory, but to forge her own path.


    In both the Narrow Sea War and the Dornish Rebellion, she had yed pivotal roles; her contributions were undeniable,manding respect from all.


    Aemond caught a glimpse of her intentions and hung his head in dismay.


    Bastard!


    He had thought himself clever, nning an alliance through marriage with House Baratheon to undermine House Swann.


    Yet, he hadn''t anticipated that his sister harbored ambitions far surpassing his own, daring to challenge Rhaenyra directly in for the Queen position.


    In a moment, Aemond thought of Daeron, that tireless bookworm, who have been cherished since his youth.


    "Is Aegon truly the only failure among us?"


    Aemond found himself feeling an unexpected sympathy for Aegon, the fool.


    Hena reached up, stroking his head in a gesture reminiscent of Rhaenyra''s affection for Rhaegar, her tone t, "Focus on the task at hand, and stop worrying about the chaos."


    Aemond blushed.


    After a moment, Hena abruptly stopped and withdrew her hand, her voice soothing as she spoke to a child, "Defend the city well, and you might just earn Stonehelm."


    Stonehelm was gaining importance and had the potential to develop into a significant harbor.


    Rhaegar intended to grant it to Aemond at his discretion.


    "Sister~"


    Aemond clung to the thought, his voice carrying a whine of expectation.


    Unperturbed, Hena sighed and turned away.


    She needed to return to her duties, leaving Aemond to ponder his future alone.


    Watching her depart, Aemond felt a pang of disorientation, almost as if his regret was physically imprinting itself upon his mind.


    He was beginning to regret his decisions.


    Had he known, he would have vied for Aegon''s favored position and embraced the family tradition alongside his sister.


    Now, it was toote.


    He was bound to Cassandra, while Aegon seemed simrly engaged.


    "Three blood brothers, and none of them likes me."


    Aemond dabbed at the corners of his eyes, feigning tears, and murmured, "Mother is blinded by ambition, enamored with the power of House Baratheon and that fool Aegon."


    If only he hadn''t been coerced into this engagement, he would still be free.


    Instead, he watched as his sister threw herself into Rhaegar''s arms, clearly having chosen her allies.


    Aemond clenched his teeth, "I am no less capable than the others."


    With that, he turned and strode outside.


    The war was far from over, and he was determined not only to secure Stonehelm but also to earn a reputation that would make an impression.


    ...


    The Red Mountains


    Stretching from east to west, the Red Mountains form a formidable barrier separating Dorne from the Stornds and the Reach.


    This mountain range extends from the north-northeastern edge of the Stornds near Cape Wrath, epassingndmarks such as Griffin''s Roost in Shipbreaker Bay and extending nearly to Storm''s End Castle.


    To the south, the Dornish Bordends are punctuated by the castles of the Bordends Lords, including the cities of ckhaven and Stonehelm. The ridge extends further northwest into the Rivends, where House Tarly''s domain, Horn Hill, is nestled in the foothills.


    Two main passes cut through these rugged heights: the Prince''s Pass and the Boneway. Currently, hordes of ragged Dornish refugees, disced and desperate, pour into the mountains, splitting at these passes in search of safety.


    Dorne''s tropical climate subjects its inhabitants to unrelenting heat and humidity. At the height of summer, the scorching sun and searing mountain paths take a heavy toll, iming the lives of the infirm and elderly.


    Without a hint of emotion, the survivors strip the deceased of their sun-bleached clothes - each item a potential lifeline against the cold mountain nights.


    The Boneway, also revered as the Stone Way, marks its entrance along the northern Dornish coast.


    Guarded by House Yronwood, lords of this critical passage, it weaves through Yronwood, approaching ckhaven in the north. Tens of thousands journey this route, their faces etched with the hardships of famine and forced expulsion from the more fertile oases by their merciless lords.


    These exiles, hopeful yet haggard, gaze upon the red-hued path of the Boneway, imagining it as a gateway to the Dornish bordends, where salvation - in the form of food - awaits.


    Amidst this exodus, a stark contrast emerges. A group of robust figures, not particrly tall but unmistakably sturdy, edges the procession.


    Each individual bears the fierce countenance of a warrior, a curved sword at their waist, and a crossbow concealed behind their back.


    Just a few dozen kilometers from ckhaven, these 5,000 strong split from the main group, organizing into five cohorts. They slip into the lesser-known paths of the Boneway.


    Compared to the Prince''s Pass, known as the "Great Pass," the Boneway had steep and treacherous terrain that made navigation difficult and dangerous.


    The paths were narrow and winding, essible only to the most skilled and daring. In the wider sections, only three people could walk side by side, while in the narrowest areas, a single person had to cling to the rock face to make progress.


    This secret route was known only to the Dornish bordends and the lords who dwelt within the mountains.


    "Can we really bypass ckhaven by taking this road?" questioned a brash man with mboyant hair, resembling a mercenary.


    "Save your breath. This road is tough," replied a man with ck hair and brown skin, his leather armor emzoned with the emblem of House Wyl��a ck viper biting a heel.


    The brash man snorted, "I don''t get you Dornish folks. Why choose this godforsaken path?"


    Were it not for the lucrativemission from Braavos, he would not have ventured here, even under coercion.


    The group, five hundred strong, moved through a deep, narrow path nked by sheer rock walls. The brash man, brushing against the hot stone, cursed, "If a Dragonlord''s came, we''d be roasted alive."


    The man from House Wyl halted and turned to stare at him. His thoughts mirrored the brash man''s fears. With the group stretched over five hundred meters, dragonfire could incinerate them from end to end.


    "What are you looking at?" snapped the brash man, unnerved by the scrutiny.


    "Keep your mouth shut and say something positive," the House Wyl man retorted sharply.


    A distinct uneasiness settled over the group as they continued.


    Hoo-


    Suddenly, a shadow blocked the searing sun.


    "What the hell!" the brash man eximed, crouching instinctively.


    The shadow circled back, revealing the immense form of a dragon, its silhouette darkening the secluded path.


    Hearts pounded as faces turned skyward in dread.


    "Roar"


    A thunderous dragon roar reverberated through the mountains, the sound waves echoing ominously.


    Boom-


    Golden dragonfire descended like a volcanic eruption, sweeping through the narrow passage from one end to the other, engulfing everything in its path.

 Chapter 428: Blackhaven

    Chapter 428: ckhaven


    "No!!!"


    "Get out of the way, flee..."


    Panic surged through the crowd, their bodies slick with sweat as they scrambled in desperation.


    Boom-


    The golden dragonfire surged relentlessly, carving a scorching path through the narrow pass, leaving a glowing line against the red-hued mountain rocks.


    Someone nced up in a fleeting moment of rity, catching a final glimpse of life.


    A massive dragon with bronze scales, brown wing membranes, and a fearsome demeanor.


    Bronze Fury - Vermithor.


    "Seven hells!"


    His face twisted in terror as the bronze dragon unleashed its fiery wrath, erasing his features in an instant.


    Above, amanding voice echoed.


    "Vermithor, Dracarys!"


    "Roar!"


    Vermithor, the bronze dragon, roared, its colossal body swooping down, jaws agape, spewing searing golden mes.


    The mountains reverberated with cries and wails. Momentster, only charred remnants and lifeless forms remained.


    "Vermithor, well done."


    Viserys''s face was flushed with excitement and pride. d in ck steel armor, a red cloak billowing behind him, and the House sword ckfyre at his waist, he exuded an air of determination and strength. The armor masked his aging form, making him appear twenty years younger��a fearless dragon rider ready for battle.


    "Roar!"


    Vermithor''s vertical pupils scanned the terrain, wings pping methodically as it hunted down the scattered mercenaries. Once spotted, they were engulfed in dragonfire, the nickname Bronze Fury lived up to its name.


    "Haha, let''s go."


    Viserys, invigorated, grinned widely. "There are still many who need to witness the Wrath of the Sleeping Dragon."


    He wiped away the sweat from his brow, though it was not from the heat but the thrill of the battle.


    Viserys chuckled to himself, "Fighting with dragons is a bit too exhrating for me."


    But it was undeniably satisfying.


    "Roar!"


    Vermithor, a bronze sun in the sky, soared swiftly and ferociously towards the other side of the mountain range.


    ording to the Master of Whisperers,rge groups of mercenaries had gathered on the Boneway.


    They still needed to be dealt with, one by one.


    ...


    Three days passed quickly.


    Arge crowd of refugees crossed the treacherous Boneway and gathered at a narrow fortress. This fortress, built between towering rock walls, stood over ten feet high with a massive bronze gate barring the entrance. The cliffs on either side were pierced with a honeb of rifle holes, constantly aimed at potential attackers.


    Beyond the fortress loomed a majestic castle built into the mountain and towering over the city - ckhaven, the seat of House Dondarrion.


    "Roar!"


    A bronze dragon emerged from the castle, its icy gaze sweeping over the refugees below. Their numbers swelled, blocking the entrance to the fortress and threatening its defenses.


    The sight of the dragon overhead numbed the refugees; they neither hid nor cried. asionally, a child''s cry was quickly silenced by an adult. Their situation was dire-no food, no hope. Their only option was to gather at the fortress on the Boneway and endure the scorching sun.


    Despair settled over them, a weight heavier than the dragon above.


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, two more dragon roars echoed from afar as two massive dragons emerged from the dark clouds. One was ck, the other was pale blue, and they soared through the sky in a synchronized dance.


    Whoosh!


    The ck dragon swooped down, gliding perilously close to the rock walls, its sharp ws scraping the rugged surface. Rhaegar, d in ck robes, murmured, "Cannibal, don''t terrorize the refugees."


    "Roar��"


    The ck dragon''s eerie green eyes fixated on ckhaven as it soared upward.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre followed, its light blue wings spreading wide, painting a serene picture against the sky. Hena''s face tightened as she nced at the foul-smelling refugees below.


    "Dragons..."


    "Targaryen..."


    The refugees stared in awe as the two giant dragons and their young riders passed overhead. The dragons guarded the fortress, preventing any breakthrough of the Boneway. The refugees, unable to breach the defenses, sank deeper into despair under the relentless sun, their hearts cold with hopelessness.


    Soon, the dragons disappeared from sight, returning to the unseen, untouchable ckhaven.


    ...


    ckhaven, Courtyard.


    Vermithornded first, upying the limited open space in the courtyard.


    Elsewhere, Cannibal and Dreamfyre touched down outside the courtyard. The imposing ck basalt walls, though robust, seemed like mere earthen barriers against the dragons'' powerful hind limbs. With a slight stretch, the dragons'' heads peered over the deep, unseen moat, surveying every corner of the forecourt.


    Rhaegar removed his hood and dismounted from his dragon.


    Rumble��


    The city gates slowly creaked open as a group of soldiers emerged to greet them.


    "Rhaegar, my boy!"


    Viserys strode forward, tion evident in his demeanor.


    "Father, are you alright?" Rhaegar asked, smiling faintly as he approached.


    Viserys grasped his eldest son''s arm, squeezing the strong muscles with a broad smile. "It''s great that you coulde."


    Father and son had previously agreed that Rhaegar would address the troubles in the Stornds first.


    "Father."


    Hena dismounted and ran forward for a hug, smiling brightly.


    Viserys, d in armor, hugged his daughter as best he could through the iron tes. "Hena, you should have stayed in King''s Landing," he said, a hint of bitterness in his voice.


    After Maiden''s Day, Hena had hidden in Harrenhal before returning to the Red Keep and then quietly traveling to the Stornds.


    Hena''s delicate brows furrowed slightly as she exined, "I wanted to find a blue ind and ended up running into my brother first."


    "You mean Tarth Ind?" Viserys asked, slightly puzzled.


    Tarth Ind, one of the inds off the coast of Westeros,y north of ShipbreakerBay, separated from the maind by a strait. Renowned for its beauty, it featured diversendscapes like mountains,kes, ins, and vales. It was also known as the Sapphire Isle due to its nearby azure waters.


    Hena looked slightly confused and replied vaguely, "I just saw a blue ind."


    "Then you should definitely go and see it," Viserys suggested, raising an eyebrow. He realized that his youngest daughter might be experiencing another bout of mental instability.


    Viserys didn''t believe Hena possessed the gift of Dragon Dreams, which were typically triggered by indirect but persistent dreams. Hena''s visions seemed more like sporadic images that suddenly shed through her mind.


    "Father, let''s discuss this inside the city," Rhaegar suggested, steering the conversation away.


    "Alright," Viserys said quickly. "I''ll have Lord Simon prepare the banquet."


    Lord Simon Dondarrion, the elderly and meticulously dressed Lord of ckhaven, nodded in approval. He was a proud and dignified old noble. Alongside him were the Kingsguard brothers, Arryk and Erryk, ever-vignt in their protection of the King.


    The brothers nodded respectfully. "Prince, Princess."


    Rhaegar smiled, taking Hena''s hand as they walked inside. Hena, her freckled face scrunched in a pout, followed reluctantly.


    "Don''t be upset," Rhaegar said softly. "We��ll be heading to Highgarden soon."


    "Oh," Hena responded with a squeak, her thoughts drifting to the strange vision she had of a fishmonger on the blue ind.


    The group entered the castle courtyard.


    "Roar..."


    Vermithory prostrate, its horned and crowned head raised slightly, emanating a fierce aura. Rhaegar nced at the bronze beast, noting how Vermithor had regained some of his former ferocity after days of hunting mercenaries.


    Viserys, slightly out of breath, spoke proudly, "Vermithor is a true warrior, even more powerful than I imagined."


    Riding dragons in battle was a far cry from parades. Rhaegar looked at his father with concern. "Is your health holding up?"


    Viserys reassured him with a dismissive wave, "I''m fine. It''s just a little exertion, no serious wounds."


    At first, Viserys had feared that fighting on a dragonback would reopen his wounds and humiliate him on the battlefield. To his surprise, Vermithor''s control of the skies had protected him.


    As they talked, they made their way to the castle. ckhaven Castle, perched on a cliff, had walls facing the Boneway that were covered in vine-like greenery, resembling a green waterfall. Inside, the castle hall was cool, the walls and foliage blocking out the sun.


    The old Lordmanded his attendants to prepare a sumptuous banquet.


    Before taking his seat, another person arrived hurriedly.


    "Your Grace, the military supplies have been reviewed thoroughly," Tnd reported, sweating profusely and panting from his haste.


    His blonde hair was disheveled, and his clothes carried a faint odor of sweat, a stark contrast to his usually immacte appearance.


    Viserys inquired about the general situation and then gestured for Tnd to sit.


    Tnd nodded curtly, not forgetting to send greetings to Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar and Viserys were his superiors, but the Heir Prince was his first priority.


    Rhaegar returned Tnd''s smile, surprised to see him here. But upon reflection, it made sense. The Prince''s Pce was located in the Dornish Bordends, just past ckhaven and at the exit of the Boneway. As an overseer and former royal advsiser, it was natural for Tnd to be temporarily drafted.


    As the meal was being served, Tnd took a moment to report privately.


    "ckhaven has two thousand infantry, eight hundred archers, twenty-six knights, and a stockpile of defensive supplies such as oil," he began. "Outside the city, there are at least ten thousand Dornish refugees. Several side paths have been targeted by mercenaries, but His Grace, riding Vermithor, crushed them all."


    Rhaegar listened attentively, analyzing the disparity between their forces and the enemy.


    First, ckhaven had no reinforcements. The Stornds'' army was either supporting the Triarchy or clearing out remnants of Dornish resistance. It would take at least a month to fully restore order and send reinforcements.


    However, this was not a major concern. ckhaven''s treacherous terrain and strategic location at the Boneway''s bottleneck meant that an army of 3,000 could effectively block 100,000 troops. Additionally, with his father and Vermithor defending the town, it was virtually impregnable.


    Rhaegar realized that the Prince''s Pass required the most reinforcement. Unlike the Boneway, itcked natural defenses, and Nightsong did not have a seasoned leader like Lord Simon. Despite his age and questionable reputation, Simon Dondarrion had a history of fiercebat against the Dornish and was more experienced than many of his peers.


    As the meal progressed, Viserys took a sip of wine and spoke seriously, "The Sea Snake has lost his son and has mobilized the navy of the Stepstones towards Salt Shore."

 Chapter 429: Highgarden Rose

    Chapter 429: Highgarden Rose


    "The Sea Snake is a formidable strategist and can mount a counterattack both onnd and at sea. I believe his n is feasible," Viserys said, looking expectantly at his son.


    Rhaegar did not reply immediately, contemting the strategy. The main force of the naval counterattack wouldprise the fleet led by the Sea Snake and Aegon on Sunfyre.


    Dominating the sea, the fleet would navigate around southern Dorne into the Summer Sea, enter the maind via the Greenblood River, andunch a surprise attack on nky Town.


    nky Town, a major Dornish settlement under House Martell''s control, is crucial for sea trade. Capturing it would allow the Sea Snake to control the Greenblood River crossing, effectively splitting Dorne in two.


    This would iste Sunspear, Dorne''s eastern stronghold, from the western nobles'' support.


    Seeing his son deep in thought, Viserys refrained from pressing him. Tnd, observing the room, reported confidently, "Lord Corlys proposes we break through either the Prince''s Pass or the Boneway, leading our forces straight into western Dorne to defeat the local nobles."


    The Greenblood River remains a key strategic divide. If the forces from the Reach and Stornds can carve a path, they can crush the remaining Dornish defenses with the air superiority of a few dragons.


    Coordinatednd and naval forces will overwhelm the Dorne.


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow, his tone serious, "The strategy is sound. Following this n, taking Sunspear will be straightforward."


    "I agree," Viserys said, a hint of smugness in his voice. He found the Sea Snake''s n bold and direct. The sess of the invasion of the Triarchy had bolstered his confidence in conquering Dorne.


    Viserys I would achieve what the Conqueror had notplete dominion over Dorne.


    "I will soon go to Highgarden and raise an army of 10,000 men to attack from Prince''s Pass," Rhaegar proposed, still weighing the options.


    Viserys''s eyes brightened as he asked, "Is the Sea Snake''s proposal truly viable?"


    Having experienced setbacks in the Small Council, he preferred to rely on his eldest son''s judgment.


    Rhaegar frowned, hesitating. "The Sea Snake''s strategy is excellent, but it feels driven by a thirst for revenge."


    "What do you mean?" Viserys asked.


    "We can''t afford to conquer Dorne."


    "It''s conquest."


    "But after the conquest, we can''t sustain it," Rhaegar replied, his tone somber. Father and son exchanged troubled nces.


    Rhaegar rested his chin on his hand and sighed. "The Triarchy is not yet stable. If we conquer Dorne, the influx of tens of thousands of refugees will drain our treasury."


    This is assuming the old Dornish loyalists remain faithful to the Iron Throne.


    History serves as a warning. When Aegon the Conquerorunched the Dorne War, it dragged on for years. The bloody and indiscriminate "Wrath of the Dragon" scorched Dornish towns, yet even on the brink of copse, the people of Dorne refused to surrender.


    Today, Rhaegar was confident he could conquer all of Dorne and install loyal nobles.


    However, Dorne is vast, with deserts and sand dunes. If the defiant Dornish retreated into the desert, history would repeat itself, creating a prolonged stalemate.


    Dorne would be like a leech, draining the Targaryens'' resources. The Iron Throne would have to manage Dorne and guard against constant rebellions.


    Moreover, the long supply lines for the army, whether from the Reach or the Stornds, would stretch through endless desert, making sustained upation difficult.


    Viserys, shocked, replied, "The Triarchy has already surrendered. Now is the perfect opportunity."


    "We should capitalize on the morale from the Narrow Sea War and take Dorne in one decisive blow."


    Rhaegar considered this. "Father, instead of prolonging the war, why not strike Dorne a decisive blow and then iste it?"


    "The Iron Throne needs to rest and recuperate. Once the Triarchy is stabilized and the Stepstones Inds are united to control sea power in the lower Narrow Sea, Dorne will be isted and helpless."


    "At that point, with the Reach and the Stornds cutting off Dorne''snd and sea links, it will be like catching a turtle in a jar."


    There are multiple ways to wage war, and economic pressure can be highly effective. Viserys pondered his eldest son''s strategy.


    The Targaryen territories already spanned the Narrow Sea, controlling rich and contestednds.


    Rather than depleting the country''s resources in a protracted fight, it would be wiser to besiege Dorne economically. Dorne''s grain production is low, and without maritime trade, it would slowly wither.


    After a long pause, Viserys''s eyes gleamed with understanding, and he nodded vigorously.


    He agreed with Rhaegar''s proposal.


    Tnd seized the moment to raise his ss with a smile.


    "To giving Dorne a hard blow!"


    "Cheers!"


    Highgarden.


    A white marble castle, stood majestically on a t hillside, encircled by three solid, circr walls. The outermost wall surrounded the entire base of the hill, and between it and the second wally a meticulously maintained botanical maze, designed for both entertainment and leisure.


    Its unique architecture andvish decoration made it renowned as the most beautiful castle in all of Westeros. Today, Highgarden weed two esteemed guests.


    The ck dragon led the way, followed closely by the light blue dragon, soaring across the endless ins towards Highgarden.


    At the gate of the third wall, two young and beautifuldies, apanied by a group of attendants, looked up in anticipation.


    "Land!" a clear, young voice rang out like a sparkling stream. Cannibal��s green eyes were cold and indifferent as he circled the city walls nonchntly, finallynding at the gate with a whoosh, kicking up a cloud of dust.


    Dreamfyrended gracefully beside him, and the rider leaned over to assist the dismounting rider. The gathered crowd moved hastily.


    Margaery��s eyes lit up, her red lips curving into a radiant smile as she stepped forward. "Dear prince and princess, wee to Highgarden," she greeted warmly, ignoring her maid''s attempts to stop her as she took Hena��s hand.


    The two girls shook hands and approached the crouching Dreamfyre, whose sulfurous dragon stench was palpable. Hena wiped the sweat from her forehead and smiled back.


    At this moment, Rhaegar dismounted from his dragon. An older, equally beautiful woman walked over and bowed. "Prince Rhaegar Targaryens, I bring you my husband''s greetings. It is an honor to have you here." Rhaegar nced at her briefly, pretending not to recognize her.


    Margaery and Hena stood side by side, smiling as Margaery introduced, "This is Alyssa Redwyne, my father''s new wife and the new Lady of Highgarden." Alyssa bowed again, her tone polite. "My father fought alongside you. He sends his regards."


    "You''re wee, Lady," Rhaegar replied with a smile. Alyssa, probably in her early twenties, was the daughter of House Redwyne and had been chosen to marry the half-century-old Tyrell. She was known to be a woman of strong opinions.


    Margaery, ever cheerful, said, "The sun is fierce. Please, enter the castle. The servants have prepared chilled sweet wine."


    Rhaegar nodded, "The guest follows the host."


    The Targaryen siblings entered Highgarden under the hospitality of Margaery and her mother. Margaery kindly instructed the guards to feed the dragons with sheep and cattle. Hena thanked her, and the two girls chatted animatedly as they walked hand in hand.


    Rhaegar, though not very engaged in the conversation, enjoyed the view of Highgarden. Despite having visited many times, the castle''s beauty never ceased to amaze him. It was like a green paradise, with flowers blooming everywhere, and gardens, pools, and artificial waterfalls adorning the entire castle.


    Rare flowers and nts from all over the world flourished in every corner, with stone sculptures, fountains, and marble columns draped in vines and grapevines. Everything was so beautiful and full of life.


    "Isn''t it beautiful?" Lady Alyssa asked softly. Realizing she was speaking to him, Rhaegar smiled faintly but said nothing. Lady Alyssa picked a petal off a flower and said, "As the Tyrell motto says, ''Growing Strong.''"


    Rhaegar, surprised, nodded in agreement. "That''s right." Lady Alyssa smiled and continued chatting for a while, maintaining her elegant demeanor.


    Rhaegar nced at Margaery and Hena ahead of them, then at Lady Alyssa, who stood alone, thinking to himself, "No stepmother has an easy role." Especially if she nned to have children to carry on the family legacy.


    ...


    As they walked and talked, they rified a lot of information. Old Tyrell was not in Highgarden but was instead in Oldtown, recruiting soldiers on behalf of the Iron Throne. Upon receiving Rhaegar''s invitation to visit, he hurried back.


    Margaery, with her big, watery eyes, said coquettishly, "Father isn''t here, so please stay for two more days."


    Rhaegar found her poor acting skills amusing and agreed without muchment.


    After leaving ckhaven, he passed through Prince''s Pass and inspected it. Compared to the steep Boneway, Prince''s Pass was overwhelmed with refugees, stretching endlessly even from a dragon''s vantage point.


    With the current garrison, stopping tens of thousands of desperate refugees without reinforcements from The Reach would be difficult. However, there was no immediate cause for concern. Highgarden was not far from Nightsong in a straight line, and its fortress was not easy to breach. Waiting a day or two would be fine.


    Rhaegar asked, "How many troops can we recruit this time?"


    Margaery blinked and thought for a moment. "With the help of House Rowan, Caswell, Tarly, and others, we should be able to recruit about 10,000 men, mostly infantry."


    Rhaegar nodded, reflecting on The Reach''s wealth. During the Narrow Sea War, The Reach had provided 20,000 reinforcements, in addition to a fleet of 10,000 allied troops from Hightower, Redwyne, and the Shield Inds.


    However, these troops were not very strong. They had been evenly distributed between Tyrosh and Lys, with the two major battles consuming most of them.


    As he considered this, Rhaegar shook his head, dispelling the grim thoughts. The invasion campaign against the Triarchy had resulted in over 50,000 casualties for Westeros, while the Triarchy''s losses were estimated at no less than 100,000.


    Of those, at least 30,000 were burned to death by Rhaegar himself. The sheer number of deaths weighed heavily on him, contributing to his reluctance to attack Dorne and increase the casualties further.


    War affects the human spirit. Not only did the Iron Throne need a respite, but Rhaegar also desired a break.


    ...


    Soon, a feast was held in the sacred forest of Highgarden. Servants spread a shade cloth and set up a banquet by the pool.


    Rhaegar and Hena freshened up, changed out of their dragon-scented clothes, and joined the weing party.


    "Come this way. There are plenty of ice buckets to cool off," Margaery said, squeezing between the siblings and leading the way with her arms folded.


    It was August, and the weather in The Reach was stiflingly hot. Despite the ck sunshadeid over the garden, the scorching sun was still difficult to bear. To ensure the guests''fort, the waiters provided an ice bucket at each table to help beat the summer heat.


    Rhaegar, freeing himself from the soft touch beneath his gauze shirt, picked up a red grape and put it in his mouth, admiring the scene. "It''s no wonder Highgarden is so wealthy," he remarked.


    The sheer number of ice buckets and the generous portions were impressive. The Red Keep''s ice cer was not even one-tenth as well stocked as Highgarden''s.

 Chapter 430: Weirwood Blessing

    Chapter 430: Weirwood Blessing


    "Please, have a seat. The guests will be here soon," Margaery said, settling onto a brown stool and smiling warmly at the Targaryen siblings. Her bright, beautiful face, with brown eyes like a fawn in the forest, could make one''s heart skip a beat.


    Rhaegar nced at her and felt an unexpected sweetness. It wasn''t that hecked an eye for beauty or had a discerning taste. But when you have endured fire and blood, witnessed charred corpses, heard endless screams, and smelled burning flesh, it''s hard to be easily moved.


    Rhaegar thought, smiled, and sat down on a round stool.


    "Brother~," Hena said, tilting her head, sensing something unusual. Those with sensitive minds are always a step ahead.


    Rhaegar paused, rubbed her little head, and smiled. "Don''t worry about me. You''re a bit hot. Enjoy the ice."


    As a Dreamer gued by nightmares since childhood, his mind was resilient. The heavy killing had cast a shadow on his heart, but he managed to keep it at bay, like a servant sweeping up the garbage with a broom.


    Hena looked at him seriously, then nodded, trusting her brother''s reassurance. If he said it was okay, then it must be okay.


    Margaery, who had witnessed the exchange, said admiringly, "You two have a wonderful rtionship. Prince Rhaegar, you are especially gentle, even more so than my twote brothers."


    The men of Highgarden were known to be softhearted, high-profile gentlemen. Rhaegar''s eyes shed, and he unconsciously raised his ss, taking a sip of sweet fruit wine. Hena''s face flushed as she raised her ss and gulped down the sweet wine.


    Margaery watched, perplexed, wondering if she had said something wrong. Her eyes fell on Hena''s freckled face, puzzled by her sudden blush.


    Rhaegar felt a nudge under the table from Hena''s foot. How could anyone truly understand the Targaryens?


    Guests began to arrive, and the banquet officiallymenced. After a round of tedious greetings, some peace was finally restored. Rhaegar''s smile grew strained, and he began to drink more frequently.


    Margaeryughed quietly to herself. "The prince is still so shy."


    Rhaegar smiled politely, bound by his position. The guests this time were of extraordinary pedigree, including members of House Rowan, Tarly, Beesbury, and Redwyne.


    Although most were women, they represented the face of their respective Houses. The soldiers under theirmand had fought for the Targaryens, and Rhaegar had to show his appreciation.


    As the singer plucked the strings of his lute, the melodious sound spread, infusing a romantic atmosphere into the hot summer day. Margaery, ever the chatterbox, kept her small, rosy mouth in constant motion. Listening to herrk-like voice always lifted one''s spirits.


    <span ss="--l --r lmt__write_highlight_sentence py-[3px] sentence_highlight"><span ss="--l --r bg-blue-next-50 dark:bg-neutral-next-600 lmt__write_text_interaction_range_highlight py-[3px]">Rhaegar didn''t notice at first, but Margaery had embraced the drunken Hena, her pretty face pressed against the other''s. <span ss="--l --r lmt__write_highlight_sentence py-[3px] sentence_highlight">He had to admit, the sight of the two beauties, one <span ss="--l --r border-b-2 border-green-next-100 dark:border-green-next-500 dark:text-green-next-300 lmt__write_highlight rtive text-green-next-600">taller and one <span ss="--l --r border-b-2 border-green-next-100 dark:border-green-next-500 dark:text-green-next-300 lmt__write_highlight rtive text-green-next-600">shorter, was captivating.


    "Uh..." Rhaegar''s eyelid twitched as he hesitated, unsure whether to intervene. His thoughts drifted to Jeyne, who was pregnant and living in The Eyrie. Before they met, she had an unusual rtionship with Jessamyn, a topic of secret discussions among Westeros'' nobility.


    Rhaegar could attest that the two women shared an intimate, albeit tonic, bond, often sleeping under the same quilt. asionally, Jeyne would tease him about inviting Jessamyn to join them, though Rhaegar knew Jeyne couldn''t endure such closeness.


    "Hena, you''re even prettier than thest time I saw you. Your skin feels like custard pudding, so soft and springy," Margaery praised, finally letting go of Hena, albeit reluctantly.


    Hena, unustomed to such intimacy, blushed deeply and stammered, "No, I''m just happy to be riding a dragon." Her forehead was tense, almost steaming with embarrassment.


    Rhaegar put a hand on his forehead, unable to bear watching. She was clearly taken aback.


    Margaery smiled, letting Hena lean on her chest to sober up. She then turned to Rhaegar and said, "I heard that Lord Ormund Hightower is very unhappy about the Oldtown visit and wants to be themander of the Reach coalition."


    Rhaegar''s spirits lifted. Intrigued, he asked, "Oh, what candidate does Lord Tyrell have in mind?"


    Ever since Alicent married his father and Otto became Hand of the King, the Hightowers had been exerting increasing influence. Even the old Tyrells, known for their stubbornness, wouldn''t encourage Hightower''s arrogance.


    Margaery smiled yfully. "Of course, it''s Lord Thaddeus of House Rowan. He and his brother-inw, Lord Donald Tarly, are both good men and loyal. Though," she added in a low voice, "Lord Thaddeus is a bit chubby; it''s doubtful he can wear armor." She giggled happily after her revtion.


    Rhaegar understood her point and smiled. "Lord Thaddeus is a good man, but Ormund Hightower will be furious."


    The House of Rowan had been a top noble family in The Reach for generations, rivaling House Tyrell in some respects. Thaddeus Rowan, whose sister was married to Lord Tarly of Horn Hill, had both wealth and martial prowess. Not that Ormund, the big-nosed fool, couldn''t challenge him.


    Margaery''s smile widened. "I also heard that the Hightowers are sailing to Myr and Tyrosh, nning to open overseas trading posts."


    As the Rose of Highgarden, she naturally harbored animosity toward the Hightowers of Oldtown. Their secretive dealings with the nobles of The Reach had angered the Lords of Highgarden.


    <span ss="--l --r lmt__write_highlight_sentence py-[3px] sentence_highlight">Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed. <span ss="--l --r lmt__write_highlight_sentence py-[3px] sentence_highlight"><span ss="--l --r border-b-2 border-green-next-100 dark:border-green-next-500 dark:text-green-next-300 lmt__write_highlight rtive text-green-next-600">It was the first time he had heard of this development. <span ss="--l --r lmt__write_highlight_sentence py-[3px] sentence_highlight">The three Free Cities are <span ss="--l --r border-b-2 border-green-next-100 dark:border-green-next-500 dark:text-green-next-300 lmt__write_highlight rtive text-green-next-600">major ports <span ss="--l --r border-b-2 border-green-next-100 dark:border-green-next-500 dark:text-green-next-300 lmt__write_highlight rtive text-green-next-600">that dominate maritime trade <span ss="--l --r border-b-2 border-green-next-100 dark:border-green-next-500 dark:text-green-next-300 lmt__write_highlight rtive text-green-next-600">on both sides of the Narrow Sea, with potential <span ss="--l --r border-b-2 border-green-next-100 dark:border-green-next-500 dark:text-green-next-300 lmt__write_highlight rtive text-green-next-600">to surpass even Oldtown, the <span ss="--l --r border-b-2 border-green-next-100 dark:border-green-next-500 dark:text-green-next-300 lmt__write_highlight rtive text-green-next-600">leading port in Westeros.


    <span ss="--l --r lmt__write_highlight_sentence py-[3px] sentence_highlight">With the Hightowers'' <span ss="--l --r border-b-2 border-green-next-100 dark:border-green-next-500 dark:text-green-next-300 lmt__write_highlight rtive text-green-next-600">cunning and business acumen, they would undoubtedly thrive in any of the Free Cities. <span ss="--l --r bg-blue-next-50 dark:bg-neutral-next-600 lmt__write_highlight_sentence py-[3px] sentence_highlight"><span ss="--l --r hover:dark:text-blue-next-300 hover:text-blue-next-500 lmt__words_highlight">Rhaegar <span ss="--l --r hover:dark:text-blue-next-300 hover:text-blue-next-500 lmt__words_highlight">thought <span ss="--l --r hover:dark:text-blue-next-300 hover:text-blue-next-500 lmt__words_highlight">to <span ss="--l --r hover:dark:text-blue-next-300 hover:text-blue-next-500 lmt__words_highlight">himself<span ss="--l --r hover:dark:text-blue-next-300 hover:text-blue-next-500 lmt__words_highlight">, <span ss="--l --r hover:dark:text-blue-next-300 hover:text-blue-next-500 lmt__words_highlight">"<span ss="--l --r hover:dark:text-blue-next-300 hover:text-blue-next-500 lmt__words_highlight">A <span ss="--l --r hover:dark:text-blue-next-300 hover:text-blue-next-500 lmt__words_highlight">vassal <span ss="--l --r hover:dark:text-blue-next-300 hover:text-blue-next-500 lmt__words_highlight">who <span ss="--l --r hover:dark:text-blue-next-300 hover:text-blue-next-500 lmt__words_highlight">is <span ss="--l --r hover:dark:text-blue-next-300 hover:text-blue-next-500 lmt__words_highlight">too <span ss="--l --r border-b-2 border-green-next-100 dark:border-green-next-500 dark:text-green-next-300 lmt__write_highlight rtive text-green-next-600"><span ss="--l --r hover:dark:text-blue-next-300 hover:text-blue-next-500 lmt__words_highlight">rich <span ss="--l --r hover:dark:text-blue-next-300 hover:text-blue-next-500 lmt__words_highlight">can <span ss="--l --r hover:dark:text-blue-next-300 hover:text-blue-next-500 lmt__words_highlight">be <span ss="--l --r hover:dark:text-blue-next-300 hover:text-blue-next-500 lmt__words_highlight">dangerous<span ss="--l --r border-b-2 border-green-next-100 dark:border-green-next-500 dark:text-green-next-300 lmt__write_highlight rtive text-green-next-600"><span ss="--l --r hover:dark:text-blue-next-300 hover:text-blue-next-500 lmt__words_highlight">.


    The Hightowers were already affluent, with the Faith of the Seven and the Citadel within their domain, making Oldtown a hub of culture and trade. Rhaegar felt a wave of resistance at the thought of his stepmother, Alicent: "A foolish woman with delusions of grandeur."


    As he and Margaery conversed animatedly, a slender figure approached. Lady Alyssa smiled graciously. "Margaery, so many nobledies are looking for you. I can''t keep up with the demand."


    Her voice was soft, her demeanor dignified. At first nce, she seemed like a valuable ally. Rhaegar and Margaery looked up simultaneously, their expressions subtly unreadable.


    For a moment, there was silence.


    Rhaegar cleared his throat. "I''ll take Hena to rest. You two carry on.


    "The party has just begun. Won''t you stay a little longer?" Lady Alyssa''s face paled slightly, her expression turning unnatural.


    Rhaegar shook his head. "No, I''ll just wander around the garden by myselfter."


    Margaery stood up, handing the still-dazed Hena to Rhaegar, and apologized, "Then I''ll take my leave."


    She walked past Lady Alyssa and joined the group of youngdies. Lady Alyssa, feeling embarrassed, found an excuse to leave.


    Rhaegar watched her retreating figure and chuckled. "Who doesn''t have a stepmother? Her acting is far worse than Alicent''s."


    Although Alicent was irksome, she had significantly contributed to the Targaryens and helped manage the Red Keep. With Rhaenyra and him, she maintained a facade of civility.


    In contrast, Lady Alyssa clearlycked the finesse.


    "Oh~," Hena murmured, her eyes misty. "What happened to Mother?" She thought she had heard her brother mention her name.


    Rhaegar picked her up, speaking with a mix of grumpiness and affection. "Nothing, just praising her."


    "Oh." Hena believed him, her eyes closing once more.


    Rhaegar, both angry and amused, looked at his sister. Alicent truly had a good husband and good children. Feeling the light and soft touch of Hena in his arms, he found one more reason to be forgiving of Alicent.


    Damn it!


    ...


    It was dusk. The temperature had cooled slightly, and the fiery clouds in the sky resembled sshes of dye, entuating the magnificent sunset.


    In the Godswood, a secluded green courtyard, Rhaegar strolled along the white marble path, his silver hair flowing freely over his shoulders. The path was lined with exotic flowers and nts, with stone sculptures and poolsplementing the scenery.


    "Hmm hmm hmm," Rhaegar hummed a popr bad he often yed on the harp. He could have taken out his harp and yed it, but there was no need. He wasn''t particrly fond of the song he was humming; it was just a catchy tune for his amusement.


    Before he knew it, a peculiar-looking Weirwood tree appeared at the corner of the garden. Highgarden, a castle that weed both old and new gods, allowed for the worship of all deities.


    Rhaegar approached the unusual tree, his eyes scanning its grotesque form. The Weirwood''s roots spread far and wide, protruding from the ground like veins on the back of a human hand.


    The thick trunk split into three parts, coiled like a python, with branches sproutingrge red leaves that cast shadows over thend. Each pale trunk bore a carved human face, disying expressions ofughter, sorrow, and grief.


    Rhaegar was captivated by the tree''s bizarre appearance. He walked up to it and touched the rough bark. As soon as he made contact, he shuddered, a glimmer of light shing in his eyes.


    After a moment, he withdrew his hand and stepped back, crossing his arms as he gazed up at the towering scarlet crown. "What a thing, the aesthetics are truly deformed," he muttered, before turning and walking away, his pace quickening.


    He considered himself a pure Valyrian dragon. A dragon king had no faith. He could pretend to believe in the Seven or the Old Gods, but only as far as it served his purposes.


    Rhaegar nced back at the Weirwood, his eyes wary. When he touched it, he had felt a surge of magic power, fleeting and elusive. It was a sensation he had never experienced before, as if something was hiding from him, unwilling to be discovered. He decided to let it go for now, not wanting to investigate further.


    As he walked, a thought crossed his mind. Compared to the meddlesome Seven Gods, the Old Gods seemed to have something intriguing about them, though he wasn''t sure how much.


    "I haven''t had a dream in a while. I''m going back to bed," Rhaegar yawned, making his way slowly back to the castle. The encounter with the Weirwood had unexpectedly alleviated the stress brought on by the war. He suddenly felt that the burdens he carried weren''t as heavy as they seemed.


    Rhaegar sped his hands together, muttering, "Old Gods and Weirwood, please bless me." He didn''t truly believe it, but he was willing to give it a try.


    As he left the garden, the sun had nearly set. Rhaegar''s expression was calm, a hint of a smile ying on his lips. He felt rxed and his mind was active. He had already devised a strategy for Dorne and a n for dealing with House Hightower.

 Chapter 431: The Reach Turmoil

    Chapter 431: The Reach Turmoil


    Time flies, especially in the tranquil Reach. Several days had passed in the blink of an eye.


    On this particr day, Rhaegar rose early as usual, heading downstairs with faint dark circles under his eyes. Margaery was already waiting, her face contorted in surprise as she covered her mouth with her hand ."Prince, what happened? Didn''t you have a good night''s sleep?"


    Rhaegar gave a sideways nce and said, "Don''t make a fuss."


    He casually gathered his long, silver hair and walked straight to the dining table. Margaery, momentarily speechless, swallowed theforting words she had prepared.


    The host and guest remained silent as they sat down to eat. Rhaegar said nothing as he devoured the monotonous bread and sausage. Margaery watched silently, the milk she was sipping losing its vor.


    The handsome prince from the picture stories was just as striking in real life, but unfortunately, he had a sharp tongue. People often build unrealistic expectations in their minds, and over time, they face a kind of sad disillusionment.


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but smile, sensing Margaery''s gaze. In his daily observations, he had two words for her: chatterbox and drama queen. Ignoring her, she could go on for an hour, finding topics you want to avoid. The best way to handle her was to cut her off firmly, shoving the words back into her warm throat like a mop at the first sign of her chatter.


    "I''m done eating."


    After drinking his warm milk, Rhaegar gently massaged his dark circles and asked, "Is Lord Tyrell not back yet?"


    "Yesterday, Father wrote that he had already set out and would be back in Highgarden soon," Margaery responded, managing her expression and speaking patiently.


    "That''s good. The front lines won''t wait long."


    "Don''t worry, the Tyrells are your most loyal allies," Margaery said, smiling as she spoke of her father''s loyalty and dedication. She mentioned the past friction with Hightower to secure the crown prince''s position and his determination to rally the entire realm behind the war effort.


    "Old Tyrell is a good man," Rhaegar nodded, his eyes straying to a vase of red roses decorating the table. Highgarden had an abundance of roses and wealth. In the spacious courtyard, roses of all kinds were nted, filling the air with their fragrance year-round.


    The roses on the table were beautiful, tied together in a bouquet, their petals bright red and bursting with life. Rhaegar crossed his arms and stared at them, lost in thought.


    The red roses were very beautiful, but they seemed too showy and exaggerated. As he gazed at them, one of the roses tilted its head as if dozing.


    Pop!


    The fragile neck of the rose snapped without warning, and the flower gently fell onto the white marble table. As it hit the surface, a few petals scattered, like bright red dye smeared on white paper. Rhaegar paused for a moment, then looked away.


    Margaery noticed and said, "The waiter didn''t choose well. How could he bring a rose that''s so delicate?"


    "Is it the fault of the servant or the rose?" Rhaegar muttered, lost in thought.


    It was peculiar. Since the war began, he hadn''t had a single dream. But since moving into Highgarden, where everything seemed perfect, his nerves had rxed, and the nightmares returned one after another. Last night, he dreamt of war��a great fire consuming the flower garden for miles, with the flowers'' wails contrasting the beauty of the blossoms and the horror of the destruction.


    tter...


    Light footsteps came from the stairs. Hena, dressed in a white dress, stood at the top, holding onto the railing. Rhaegar looked up at the sound.


    In a trance, Hena blurted out, "A beast that has escaped its cage is difficult to stop."


    Rhaegar frowned, trying to decipher the abrupt sentence. Margaery wiped the milk stains from the corner of her mouth and approached worriedly. "Helena, what do you mean?"


    She was very perceptive and sensed the underlying meaning.


    Dong! Dong! Dong!


    The words had barely left her mouth when three bells outside the castle rang out, heavy and oppressive. Rhaegar and Margaery turned pale and looked out together.


    ording to Highgarden tradition, one bell tolls for peace, two bells for caution, and three bells for mourning.


    Bang!


    A muffled sound came from the open carved door. A knight in silver armor, stained with blood, fell to the ground, his face grief-stricken. "Lord Tyrell It''s dead!"


    "What?" Rhaegar was shocked.


    Margaery was even more direct; her eyes rolled back, and she copsed backward.


    Hena stood nearby, watching the scene with a nk expression.


    Thud!


    Margaery''s head hit the ground, the impact waking her from her faint. She gasped, her head spinning.


    Rhaegar chose to ignore it and walked out the door with his knights. Old Tyrell had been his supporter, bncing the wealth of the most prosperous region in the Seven Kingdoms. His death was a severe blow.


    ...


    It wasn''t long before they arrived at the sept behind the castle. Rhaegar strode in, with Margaery and Hena trailing behind. In the center of the chapel, several silent sisters with veils were tending to the corpse of an obese old man. Lady Alyssa stood nearby, tears in her eyes. She had married a 50-year-old man while still young and had been widowed after only two days of happiness.


    Rhaegar approached the motionless corpse. The old man''s face was kind, his hair and beard white, showing he had taken good care of himself. But now, he had a bottle-cap-sized hole in his chest, the dried blood already cleaned.


    "A wound from an arrow?" Rhaegar murmured, silent.


    There were no other wounds on his body; he had been pierced through the heart and lungs by a single arrow, dying without suffering.


    "Father!" Margaery suddenly screamed, bursting into tears as she rushed to the corpse. She fell to her knees in front of the stone bed, weeping bitterly.


    Rhaegar slowly backed away, his eyes locking onto the knight. The knight shuddered and hurriedly exined, "The Lord Tyrell and Lord Ormund had a big fight and left Oldtown. On the way, they were ambushed and shot from their horses. We barely managed to retrieve the Lord''s body."


    Fear flickered on his face as he recounted the ambush. They had faced a group of about a hundred armed with crossbows, while the Old Lord Tyrell traveled with thirteen knights and thirty horsemen.


    They were tripped by a horse trap and then attacked with hidden arrows. The old Tyrell, unarmored, was quickly murdered. Without the sacrifice of the thirteen knights, his body would have been riddled with arrows. In the end, only five knights returned with the Lord''s body; the rest were all killed.


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed in fury as he listened. "Who was behind the ambush? Was there any sign?"


    "It seems to be mercenaries from across the Narrow Sea," the knight stammered, inexperienced and confused. Suddenly, he snapped back to reality and produced a one-foot-long steel-tipped crossbow bolt.


    Rhaegar took it, examining it closely beforeughing coldly. "A three-arrow crossbow from Myr. Good stuff."


    There was no doubt��the ambushers were mercenaries from beyond the Narrow Sea. With a strong hand, Rhaegar snapped the arrow in half, suppressing his anger. "Assassinating a Lord of the Realm��how dare they!" he spat.


    There are rules to war. No one would be so reckless as tomit an assassination before the battle''s oue was clear, especially not assassinating a lord. This act wasn''t about weakening the enemy but provoking them in the most vile way, igniting the war to the end.


    Rhaegar left the Sept in a rage without saying a word.


    Dong! Dong!


    Suddenly, two more bells tolled, signaling the rm.


    ...


    Highgarden, outside the city walls.


    A cavalry unit galloped up to the city gate, raising a cloud of dust. Their banner depicted a burning tower on a green background.


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, a thunderous dragon roar resounded through the sky, like an explosion in their ears. The hundred-strong cavalry team looked up in shock, staring at the sky. A ck dragon burst through the clouds, creating a gust of wind that tore through the sky.


    Boom!


    The ck wings blotted out the sun as the coal-ck dragonnded outside the city walls, its stark contrast to the white stone making the scene all the more vivid.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal''s green pupils were cold as it extended its neck, warning the cavalry with another roar. The horses, terrified, scattered, causing several riders to fall.


    "Steady, don''t panic," Ormund Hightower shouted, tightening his reins andmanding his subordinates.


    At the same time, Cannibal advanced slowly, green dragonfire flickering from its fangs. Rhaegar sat on the dragon''s back, looking down coldly. "The Lord has been assassinated. What is Lord Ormund doing here?"


    Old Tyrell had left Oldtown after a quarrel with Ormund and had been assassinated en route. The body had just been brought back to Highgarden, and now Ormund had arrived. Suspicious, to say the least.


    Facing the terrifying ck dragon, Ormund retreated from his horse, his voice shaking. "Prince, the cavalry of Highgarden has requested my assistance."


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the cavalry ranks. A rider in full armor stepped forward, his round shield emzoned with the golden rose of House Tyrell.


    "Deserting on a battlefield?" Rhaegar used immediately.


    The knight shook his head frantically. "It was the Lord who told me to seek help. I went to Honeyholt first, and then to Oldtown."


    Rhaegar noticed more than a dozen riders with shields bearing the three hive emblems. It was hard to determine their authenticity.


    Turning back to Ormund, Rhaegar asked, "Have you caught the murderer?"


    Ormund hurriedly replied, "I arrived toote. All that was left were the bodies of a few Tyrosh mercenaries."


    Tyrosh was known for its mercenaries, easily identifiable by their colorful hair dye. Hearing this, Rhaegar clenched his fists in anger and forced himself to remain calm.


    "Dorne! Damn war!"


    The assassination of the Lord of Highgarden, a long-time enemy of Dorne, during the Dorne Rebellion was a tant provocation that set the nerves of the entire Reach and even Westeros on edge.


    Taking a deep breath, Rhaegar shouted, "Gather the Coalition forces of the Reach and march on Dorne today!"


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal roared again, sensing its rider''s anger, and pped its wings, ascending into the sky. Despite the chill in his heart, Rhaegar remained focused. The assassination had happened recently; he intended to intercept the mercenaries and uncover how they infiltrated The Reach and knew the old Tyrell''s whereabouts.


    That night, Highgarden''s ravens flew out inrge numbers, stirring the entire Reach. Nobles, both great and small, gathered their soldiers and hurried to Highgarden. They were united by a single belief.


    Revenge! Avenge the invasion of Dorne.

 Chapter 432: Infighting in Highgarden

    Chapter 432: Infighting in Highgarden


    The next day.


    The sun hung high in the sky, its scorching heat intense enough to dry up the stream. But the fervor of the Reach nobles, burning with vengeance, eclipsed even the sun''s intensity.


    Outside the circr walls of Highgarden, armies stretched as far as the eye could see. Among the troops, various banners flew: a white inverted triangle on a green background, golden cranes on blue, and a red and gold fox''s head. These were the noble families directly below Highgarden, who had gathered overnight to offer their support.


    It was noon, and the sun was shining brightly. Still, more nobles arrived from all directions, swelling the ranks of the Reach Coalition army. The assassination of the Warden of the South was an affront to all the Reach, stirring up memories of past conflicts with Dorne.


    Outside the city walls, tens of thousands of troops gathered, and the atmosphere grew increasingly oppressive. Inside Highgarden, nobles streamed into the great hall, the tension palpable.


    Margaery, dressed in a green gauze dress, stood before the assembled nobles and told the story of her father''s death. Her speech was eloquent and moving, stirring anger and grief in her audience.


    In contrast, Lady Alyssa, her eyes filled with tears, was supported by several noblewomen as she struggled to maintain herposure, her face pale.


    By the end of the speech, the ice in the buckets had melted from the heat of the passionate nobles. Ormund, his face stern, interrupted Margaery''s flow of words. "Lady Margaery, I understand your grief. Your father was my lord too."


    Margaery paused and looked up at Ormund Hightower, who had been the first to arrive after her father''s death. His quick arrival was suspicious.


    Margaery''s brown eyes shed with suspicion. "Lord Ormund, what do you have to say?"


    Once suspicion arises, it must be tested.


    Ormund looked around and cleared his throat. "Everyone, we are all deeply saddened by the death of Lord Tyrell, but our enemy is at our doorstep. The Dornish army is in the Red Mountains."


    "So instead of mourning our loss, let us discuss the appointment of amander and send our troops to avenge Lord Tyrell!"


    As soon as he finished speaking, a middle-aged nobleman stood up. "House Tyrell has no male heirs, so they cannot lead thebined forces of The Reach." He wore a badge with golden cranes on a blue background, identifying him as a member of House Crane of Red Lake.


    This house was directly under House Tyrell and had a close rtionship with them. He was in Oldtown at the time of the assassination and was among the first to arrive in Highgarden.


    Ormund took a few steps forward. "As we did in Oldtown, we must choose amander together."


    "Then that person should be Lord Thaddeus," another young nobleman with dark hair and eyes spoke up. He was dressed inly, without ornaments, and carried arge sword at his side.


    Someone else spoke up in agreement. "I support Lord Donald Tarly��s proposal. Lord Tyrell��s intention was to elect Lord Thaddeus."


    There were voices of agreement and dissent. Several minor nobles spoke tactfully, saying, "The recruitment meeting did not decide on a suitablemander, and many have yet to agree."


    Within a few words, the nobles in the hall were clearly divided into two camps. Some supported Hightower, while others respected Lord Tyrell''s wishes. There were also fence-sitters who drank cup after cup of wine and remained silent.


    Margaery sped her hands together, analyzing the situation without saying a word. Her father had gone to Oldtown to recruit soldiers and to act as a deterrent to Hightower, whose aggression had been increasing.


    It seemed that the deterrent effect had not been achieved. In fact, Hightower had rejected some of her father''s proposals, leading to a verbal conflict.


    Margaery knew that this was not the time to assert herself, so she quietly watched the nobles argue. After a long time, Ormund took the lead in the discussion, while Lord Thaddeus was not present. Ormund raised his chin arrogantly. "Lady Margaery, you are a woman and do not understand the cruelty of war. Lord Thaddeus can barely mount a horse. Do you think I am a suitable choice tomand the allied forces?"


    It seemed like a question, but it was actually a threat. He was clearly bullying the widow and her orphaned daughter, who had no male heir to stand up for them.


    Margaery feigned distress and helplessness. "Prince Rhaegar is still investigating the true culprit. We should wait for his return before making a decision."


    "The Prince?" Ormund''s face changed slightly.


    At this point, Hena, who had been standing in the corner, ran up to Margaery and said softly, "Uncle Ormund, please wait for my brother to return."


    Ormund''s mouth twitched, and he grudgingly agreed. "Yes, Princess."


    Hena��s Hightower blood gave her words considerable weight. Margaery let out a sigh of relief and gave Hena a look of deep gratitude. The little girl pped Margaery''s perky, round buttocks yfully and looked up proudly. Margaery blushed and tugged at the hem of her dress.


    Silence once again fell over the hall.


    But this time, the silence didn''tst long.


    "Roar!"


    A muffled dragon roar echoed through the sky, and a dark dragon shadownded in the inner courtyard of Highgarden.


    "The prince is back."


    "It''s Prince Rhaegar..."


    The nobles stood up and looked out of the hall. Through the green waterfall in the garden, they could faintly see the silhouette of a huge ck dragon, resembling a mountain of coal.


    Rhaegar walked into the hall, his silver hair hanging straight down, his purple eyes cold and unyielding. The nobles immediately sensed there was no good news. The murderer of Lord Tyrell had likely escaped.


    Rhaegar did not say anything, and no one dared to press him. In truth, the mercenaries had indeed escaped. Rhaegar had ridden Cannibal through the farnd where the incident urred, searching all routes from Highgarden to Nightsong and Oldtown, but found no trace of the perpetrators.


    Simmering with anger, Rhaegar looked around at the assembled nobles and said coldly, "Is there any other lord who hasn''t arrived yet?"


    He suspected that there must have been a traitor who had tipped off the old Tyrell location for the the assassination. The mercenaries had vanished without a trace, so someone must have helped them. He just didn''t know who.


    Rhaegar''s eyes involuntarily fell on Ormund. Taken aback by Rhaegar''s scrutiny, Ormund stammered, "Lord Thaddeus of Goldengrove hasn''t arrived yet. He''s gathering the northern armies of The Reach. There''s also Caswell of Bitterbridge, Footly of Tumbleton..."


    Many noble families were still gathering their troops, though they were far away.


    Rhaegar''s piercing gaze seemed to see through Ormund''s innermost thoughts. Ufortable but experienced, Ormund changed the subject: "Prince, with Lord Tyrell dead, we should choose amander and march the army to the Red Mountains to avenge his death."


    The other nobles, feeling the invisible pressure of the heir prince, remained silent, but were of the same mind. Avenge Lord Tyrell''s death and strike down the Dornish bastards. This was the ardent spirit of the Reach.


    Rhaegar saw through Ormund''s petty schemes and sensed the strong will of the assembled nobles. He turned to Margaery and asked bluntly, "Who was themander of the Coalition army Lord Tyrell appointed before his death?"


    He had no interest inpeting formand of the forces of the Reach. His job was to control the overall situation and use the dragons to attack the enemy. Commanding the soldiers onnd would have to be done by someone else. Asking Margaery was also a warning to Ormund.


    Margaery did not disappoint, speaking quickly and clearly: "My father decided that Lord Thaddeus would be themander, and he worked hard in King''s Landing to make that happen."


    Rhaegar looked at Ormund again, his expression stern. Ormund, suddenly speechless, sat back awkwardly in his chair.


    It may be your song, but it''s my dance.


    Donald Tarly bowed respectfully and asked, "Prince, have the murderers of Lord Tyrell been captured?"


    "No," Rhaegar replied, frowning. "The group moved very quickly and I suspect someone was helping them."


    The crowd was in an uproar, looking at each other.


    Rhaegar remained calm. The murder of old Tyrell was obvious to anyone with eyes to see. There was no need to hide the truth because of so-called concerns for unity.


    Donald nodded calmly. "Highgarden has no male heirs, only Lady Alyssa and Lady Margaery. I suggest we strengthen our defenses."


    Donald nodded calmly. "Highgarden has no male heirs, only Lady Alyssa and Lady Margaery. I suggest we strengthen our defenses.


    The people of Dorne are treacherous and cunning, capable of any evil deed. The Mertyns of Mistwood were poisoned and had all their direct descendants killed. The Tyrells are a prominent family, and if theirst remaining members were to meet with an ident, The Reach would be thrown into a maelstrom ofpetition for power.


    Hearing this, the nobles'' faces darkened slightly, casting uncertain nces at Alyssa and Margaery. Highgarden without an heir was a prize. Whoever married the widow Alyssa or Margaery would control The Reach for decades.


    Margaery and Alyssa realized this, their hearts skipping a beat. Margaery crept up behind Rhaegar and gave him a pleading look. Rhaegar looked at her and understood her message: she wanted to be the heir and seed as the next Lady of Highgarden.


    Rhaegar frowned in disapproval. There were already two female lords. The kingdom had six regions, and having one or two female leaders was eptable, but not three. The title "Lady" sounded novel, but there were countless scandals behind the scenes. Jeyne was strong-willed, intelligent, and determined; with Rhaegar''s backing, she had crushed the opposition in the Vale. All she needed was a legitimate heir.


    Cassandra, on the other hand, had inherited Storm''s End and was essentially a figurehead. She couldn''t go to war, and the Stornds depended entirely on her grandfather Royce and royal support. Her political skills were almost nonexistent, and nobles such as House Dondarrion of ckhaven and House Swann of Stonehelm resented her leadership.


    Aemond


    Now that House Swann was gone, Aemond had taken over, which was a mistake that weakened House Baratheon''s foundation. Aemond was Cassandra''s fianc��, raising suspicions about her involvement. Cassandra couldn''t control her vassals or her fianc��.


    Either she was truly ipetent, or she was utterly ineffective. It would have been better to choose Maris Baratheon, the second of the Four Storms, to inherit the title.


    Rhaegar, lost in thought, ignored Margaery''s plea, unwilling to make a hasty decision. A woman''s strength lies in her intelligence, but Margaery''s cleverness bordered on cunning. Imitating sessful people rigidly was not a trait of a sessful person.


    Seeing Rhaegar''s silence, Margaery stamped her foot in frustration and signaled subtly. Several minor nobles immediately stepped forward, first praising Donald''s proposal, then hinting at choosing a regent from Highgarden.


    "I rmend Lady Margaery. She may be a woman, but she is the only Tyrell in Highgarden at the moment," one person spoke directly.


    Others disagreed, arguing, "Lady Alyssa is the widow; she should be the regent."


    "With all due respect, Lady Alyssa is a second wife and has only been married to Lord Tyrell for a few months."


    "So what? A widow regent ismon in many noble houses."


    "Lady Margaery is Lord Tyrell''s youngest daughter. She is clever and intelligent, making her more convincing."


    "They''re all women. Who''s to say they''re not all the same?"


    The crowd chattered, the tension palpable.


    Donald pondered, "I rmend Lady Margaery. She is more familiar with Highgarden''s situation."


    House Tarly and House Rowan were inws, and House Rowan was a loyal supporter of House Tyrell. Donald''s words carried weight. Rhaegar watched silently, more concerned about whether Ormund was involved in the old Tyrell''s murder than the internal struggles within Highgarden.


    As the wind of opinion shifted, Margaery smiled. Lady Alyssa, who had been quiet until now, gathered her courage and spoke. "My lords, I have only been married to Highgarden for a short time, but by the grace of the Sevens, I am already pregnant with myte husband''s child."

 Chapter 433: Relics of the Dragonless

    Chapter 433: Relics of the Dragonless


    Lady Alyssa''s words turned the tide and secured her position with a powerful statement of a potential heir. The status of a widow who remarries is very different from that of one who remains unmarried, especially in a house without a male heir. If she were indeed pregnant with a boy, he would be the logical sessor.


    After some discussion, it was decided that Lady Alyssa would serve as the regent. The attendant summoned the Maester to care for the new regent and escort her to her room for rest.


    Margaery''s smile froze as she stood in ce, feeling a pang of difort. A promising situation lost to an unexpected pregnancy. Why did it have to be now?


    Rhaegar noticed her expression and said lightly, "Keep an eye on her. Ensure she doesn''t get hurt and doesn''t contact outsiders."


    Margaery took a deep breath and nodded, signaling her understanding. The Tyrell bloodline must be kept pure and protected.


    With the internal power struggle in Highgarden resolved, it was time for the nobles of The Reach to take action. Rhaegar, saying nothing further, summoned Donald of Horn Hill to depart. Many nobles were still absent, and it would be prudent to wait until everyone had arrived.


    The nobles, unwilling to object, busied themselves organizing the troops they had brought.


    ...


    Three dayster, Highgarden was a bustling center of military activity. Outside the white walls, armies flying colorful banners stretched across thendscape, numbering between 20,000 and 30,000 men.


    Nobles from The Reach had been arriving for the past three days, each bringing their own men and horses. The great nobles arrived with between 1,000 and 3,000 men each, while the lesser nobles brought anywhere from a few dozen to a few hundred. In all, they had assembled a well-equipped coalition army of 30,000 men.


    Inside the castle, hundreds of noble lords gathered, each d in heavy armor. Rhaegar sat at the head of the assembly, with Margaery and Hena at his side. Lady Alyssa was absent, resting in her bedroom due to her pregnancy.


    The Maester had confirmed that she was two months along. The news had spread, causing Margaery''s smile to fade like a rose battered by wind and rain.


    Rhaegar nced at her, musing on the old Tyrells'' remarkable ability to perpetuate their lineage. True to their family motto of "Growing Strong," they were adept at procreation. Turning his attention to the gathered lords, he observed Thaddeus, Donald, and Ormund, each in their distinctive armor.


    Thaddeus was plump, Donald burly, and Ormund appeared idle. Thetter two each carried a Valyrian steel sword at their waists, their formidable presence evident.


    Rhaegar addressed the gathering in a serious tone. "Lord Thaddeus, the army will be leaving soon, and we need someone reliable to oversee the rear."


    "As Regent and heir to the throne, I hereby appoint you Warden of the South, charged with keeping the peace in the Reach."


    The title of Warden was an honor bestowed upon powerful lords when a ruling house was in trouble. Lord Jobert Royce of Runestone held the title in the Vale.


    Hearing this, Thaddeus dropped to one knee, his round face aglow with excitement. "I swear on the honor of House Rowan that I will not betray your trust."


    With a regent above him, the title of Warden of the South was the highest honor a noble could receive. Rhaegar smiled and said, "I''ll leave Highgarden in your capable hands. I am confident in your ability to maintainw and order and manage the rear."


    "The Reach coalition will advance to the front lines, and I will take full responsibility for the rear."


    "I believe in you."


    Rhaegar gently raised his hand, signaling for Donald to help Thaddeus to his feet, and smiled warmly. With the old Tyrell gone, The Reach was leaderless. Leading the coalition army to avenge the old Tyrell''s death was a pleasure, but maintaining order at the rear was equally crucial.


    Thaddeus, with his stature and experience, was better suited to stay behind and serve as the Warden than to go to war.


    Rhaegar smiled as he gave his firstmand. Themander of the Coalition Army would undoubtedly be chosen from two strong candidates. Both men, recognizing the gravity of the moment, straightened their backs and took on their most heroic postures.


    Rhaegar smiled as he gave his firstmand. Themander of the Coalition Army would undoubtedly be chosen from two strong candidates. Both men, recognizing the gravity of the moment, straightened their backs and took on their most heroic postures.


    Focusing on Donald, Rhaegar said, "It is said that you are an expert archer and that you have sessfully wiped out the Salty Dornishmen in the Red Mountains several times."


    The Salty Dornishmenwere remnants of the original Dornish inhabitants, having retreated to the mountains and living by hunting. They were short, dark-skinned, and bore a resemnce to the pre-Rhoynar Dorne people.


    Donald looked solemn and replied earnestly, "I have organized three raiding parties of over 100 men each and participated in eight counter-attacks against Dorne along the border."


    His credentials marked him as a veteran.


    "Your bravery is evident to all. You will make a fearless leader of the army," Rhaegar nodded, then turned to Ormund. "Lord Ormund, you have organized sea trade and are more adept atrge-scale military operations. You should be themander of the Coalition Army."


    "Yes! I will not disappoint you," Ormund replied eagerly.


    "Go out and check the provisions. The army is about to set out," Rhaegar waved his hand dismissively.


    Donald frowned slightly. He had hoped to be themander, but the importance of the vanguard role was not lost on him. In contrast, Ormund''s face lit up with acent smile as he left the room.


    Rhaegar observed everything silently, refraining from lowering himself to exin. The rtionship between the lord and his bannerman in The Reach was tenuous, simr to that in the Rivends, and House Tyrell''s rule was not as solid.


    Thaddeus had been promoted to Warden of the South, making Donald, as an ally, unsuitable to lead the coalition. Ormund, though a nuisance, was still capable. He would serve as a counterbnce until an heir to Highgarden was established.


    "I''m doing this to honor the loyalty of the old Tyrells," Rhaegar thought to himself.


    With the rear guard and frontmander agreed upon, the vast coalition army in The Reach quickly mobilized like a well-oiled war machine. Each noble lord managed their private army, ensuring readiness. Margaery, too, stepped back to help Thaddeus inventory the military supplies.


    The magnificent hall, paved with white stone, suddenly grew quiet. Rhaegar watched the busy servants and noticed a familiar face in the corner of his eye.


    He was tall, stout, and had a serious yet somewhat naive expression.


    "Prince, I have returned from the Citadel," Tru bowed, his Maester''s robe tightly stretched.


    Rhaegar smiled and asked, "You''ve regained your Maester status. Everything went well?"


    Tru had gone to the Citadel in Oldtown in June, and it appeared he had regained his lost honor.


    "Yes, I got my chain back," Tru showed the Maester''s ne on his chest, adorned with links of ck iron, bronze, red copper, gold, silver, and Valyrian steel, each representing recognition in different fields.


    Rhaegar was genuinely pleased for him. A wealth of knowledge is another kind of treasure.


    "While I was at the Citadel, I saw and heard things that I need to report," Tru said, hesitating.


    "Tell me," Rhaegar urged.


    "These are just wild guesses, for your reference," Tru began, then took a wooden box from his breast pocket, speaking timidly. "I saw a cargo ship at the Weeping Dock, and the people on board spoke a dialect that was not themon tongue of Westeros."


    This dock, rarely used and belonging to the Citadel, immediately raised Rhaegar''s suspicions. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the seriousness of the situation. He took the box from Tru and opened it, eager to see what was inside.


    "This is the relic of Maester Vaegon," Tru exined. "It was hidden in a false floor beneath his bed. It took some effort to find it."


    Rhaegar opened the box, revealing a stack of unsealed letters, a few sheets of parchment covered in scribbles, a Valyrian steel ring, and half a gold mask. The Valyrian steel ring, very light, was a Maester''s recognition of his studies at the Citadel. The half gold mask had been a symbol of Vaegon''s doctorate, worn on his face for many years.


    Rhaegar touched each item, but no voice came to his ears. He sighed lightly, treating it with a normal attitude. He recalled Saera Targaryen''s reminder that Vaegon, the Dragonless, had been researching some strange contraptions at the Citadel, and had told him to find them when he had the time.


    As a Targaryen himself, he believed that Saera wouldn''t say that without reason.


    After his great-grandfather''s death, the only two children left were Saera and Vaegon. It was not surprising that the siblings were in contact with each other. He took out the letters and checked them one by one. The sender was always Jaehaerys I.


    From 78 AC to 103 AC, there was a letter almost every year, inquiring about the rebellious son. The letter from 103 AC was no longer in Jaehaerys''s handwriting but in the delicate script of Alicent.


    Rhaegar pursed his lips and carefully stored the letters. His great-grandfather had died in 103 AC, bedridden and dependent on his maid Alicent for his daily needs. Unable to write letters himself, he had to ask Alicent to do it for him. Thisst letter expressed a father''s longing for his son and his hope that Vaegon would return to see him before he died.


    Unfortunately, the old king''s wish was never fulfilled. Vaegon, only having studied for many years, was even weaker than his father and already bedridden. Rhaegar sighed softly, his feelings mixed. The second half of his great-grandfather''s life had been somewhat bleak.


    His only remaining son, Vaegon, died shortly after his father. Thest daughter, Saera, resented her father and never set foot on the continent of Westeros again.


    Even at the Great Council of 101, only three bastards were appointed. At the end of his life, his great-grandfather was confused, grabbing Alicent''s hand and calling out Saera''s name, thinking his daughter had returned from across the Narrow Sea to see him. Alicent, who looked a bit like her, became the old king''s servant during his final days.


    Therefore, even though she was not married to Viserys at that time and did not have Rhaenyra as a ymate, her position at court was still high.


    "s," Rhaegar sighed, feeling a lump in his chest. He took a few parchments to examine. The first and second pages were covered in scribbles, depicting a hideous dragon and a strange sea map, respectively. The third and fourth pages contained written exnations.


    <em>"The Citadel rejects magic, and there are those with evil intentions towards dragons.</em>


    <em>I can''t get to the deeper levels of the Citadel. They''re not just jealous of my talent, they''re also afraid of my background. Don''t want me to study the ult? Eat shit, there''s nothing I can''t learn without you.</em>


    <em>Sothoryos is suspected of having a wild dragon. The Citadel sent a fleet to sail far away, but they were destroyed by a huge wave halfway through the journey."</em>


    Rhaegar''s spirits lifted when he saw the words "wild dragon." Thest parchment was the only one with both scribbles and writing.


    <em>"To go north, you must go south. To reach the Westends, you must go east. To move forward, you must move backward. To see the light, you must pass through the shadows."</em>


    Rhaegar frowned, not understanding. "North and South, West and East... Light and shadow."


    On the parchment, there was a sketchy map of Westeros, Essos, and Sothoryos. In particr, there were markings for Asshai in Essos, The Land of Always Winter in Westeros, and a small corner of Sothoryos.


    "Wild Dragon?" Rhaegar skipped over Asshai and The Land of Always Winter, focusing on the continent of Sothoryos. During his hunt for wyverns, he had found the remains of a dragon and fossilized dragon eggs that had broken out of their shells.


    Rhaegar''s eyes grew intense as he said, "The Citadel observes dragons and is hostile to them and It is likely that there are dragons in Sothoryos."

 Chapter 434: Bloodline Eruption

    Chapter 434: Bloodline Eruption


    Rhaegar was stunned as the gravity of the situation sank in.


    The Citadel truly harbors ill intentions toward the Targaryens!


    He suddenly recalled a childhood dream: Dreamfyre, chained and abused by a nefarious Maester, making it nearly kill him in the process. That unscrupulous Maester was eventually punished, his hands cut off, and sent to the Wall, leading to the removal of the chains from the Dragonpit.


    Rhaegar''s breathing quickened as he thought of the previous Grand Maester Mellos. That shameless old dog had deliberately mistreated his father, allowing his wounds to fester. Such actions were not befitting a Grand Maester.


    Then, a fragment of a memory surfaced��his mother, duringbor, being subjected to a Caesarean section by a Maester.


    "Why did my mother have such difficult births? Why did she suffer repeated miscarriages?" Rhaegar mused, a phrase from Saera echoing in his mind.


    "Winter ising, and Westeros is too cold for the Targaryens."


    Rhaegar hadn''t paid much attention to this before, but now it seemed significant.


    "Of all my great-grandfather''s children, none met a good end, except for those who joined the Citadel or wandered the Narrow Sea."


    Aemon and Baelon, both brave and handsome, became dragon riders at a young age. They were close brothers with a bright future ahead. One was assassinated in an ident, and the other died of suspected poisoning. Alyssa, their grandmother, as bold as any man, died of puerperal fever after giving birth to their third child.


    Dae, another grandmother, a healthy young woman, died in childbirth from the same fever. Maegelle became a nun and contracted a deadly disease. Viserra broke her neck in an ident. Gael, seduced by a wandering singer, ended her life in despair. Out of thirteen children, excluding those who died in infancy, none of the remaining survived.


    "Is that reasonable?" Rhaegar''s expression turned as dark as storm clouds, a chill running up his spine.


    He clenched the parchment, his knuckles turning white, and spat out a single word: "Citadel!"


    He refused to believe in so many coincidences. These coincidences had killed his ancestors one by one and caused his mother to miscarry repeatedly.


    Rhaegar added Aemma Arryn''s suffering to the list of the Citadel''s transgressions.


    Tru, craning his neck, hesitated and said, "Prince, the ship I mentioned is very strange. The Lord Tyrell was killed, and the ship also disappeared from the harbor at the same time."


    "There are no coincidences," Rhaegar replied, his voice chillingly calm.


    Tru felt a cold shiver down his spine as he lowered his eyes.


    Rhaegar''s expressionless face revealed a hint of long-suppressed mncholy, and his voice suddenly trembled: "The Citadel! I never thought they would go this far!"


    Not only his voice but his entire body trembled. His long, silvery-gold hair covered his cheeks, and his porcin-white skin turned pale and bloodless. A ck diamond-shaped mark protruded from his forehead.


    Z!


    A tremor flitted across his lips, and a tendril of shadowy ck fire escaped as his mouth opened.


    Tru recoiled, heart hammering, stepping back with a tremulous shuffle.


    The prince��s behavior was rmingly erratic.


    ��Tru.��


    Rhaegar��s voice cut through the tension, sharp and resolute.


    ��Yes, Prince.��


    "Return to the citadel. Gather intelligence. Enlist every dissatisfied Maester and apprentice."


    With a slow, deliberate lift of his head, Rhaegar''s eyes sparkled like twin amethysts, his tone icy. "If the Citadel fails in its duty to the people, then I will tear it down!"


    For too long, the Citadel had stood above the conflict, oblivious to the power of blood and fire.


    Now, it faced the twilight of its era.


    Tru, witnessing this, felt a chilling halt to his breath, his gaze locked on the heir prince.


    On Rhaegar��s pale brow, a second ck scale emerged alongside the first, pressing out from his skin.


    Then a third.


    The transformation was far from over.


    These three ck scales ovepped, consuming his left forehead, resembling a dark, inked tattoo.


    Suddenly, the scales writhed as if sentient, and from beneath them sprouted a horn, gnarled like a withered tree branch.


    "Hisss..."


    Pain speared through Rhaegar��s mind, his teeth clenched, head shaking in an attempt to dispel the agony.


    His long silver-gold hair cascaded aside, unveiling a visage marred by the grimace of torment.


    The pain was unbearable. With every throb, Rhaegar felt as though his skull might burst.


    Looking at the system panel.


    Rhaegar Targaryen


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold)


    Bloodline: Dragonborn (+56%)


    Runes: Serpent (Blue), Bronze (Green)


    Blood Sorcery: Dragonstone (Blue), Enchantment Spell (Blue)...


    Relics: Blood and Fire, Dreamscape...


    Evaluation: "Extraordinary is not the same as great. Rage burns everything in its path."


    With a fleeting nce, Rhaegar dismissed the disy, shoving Tru aside as he clutched his head, the pain intensifying with each heartbeat.


    His bloodline, in the process of being refined, was causing side effects.


    "Brother, clear your mind."


    Small, chubby hands reached from behind, their gentle pressure massaging his temples.


    Rhaegar resisted at first, but gave in, allowing the soothing touch despite his inner turmoil.


    His condition was peculiar. The Dragonborn transformation required a minimum of 50% pure Valyrian dragon blood. At six, his blood purity was only 5%.


    He had never doubted the purity of his bloodline. Typically, as one bonds with his dragon, the purity of his blood increases. By the time he was sixteen, he expected it to increase to 25%.


    Among his siblings, Rhaenyra shone brightest, Hena possessed the Dreamer''s gift, and Daeron had mastered dragon-taming early on. Aegon and Aemond also excelled, taming dragons earlier than most Targaryens.


    Still, none of them reached 50% purity on their own.


    With furrowed brows, Rhaegar pondered the anomaly.


    "Don��t think, brother."


    Hena, her eyes a blend of worry and confusion, whispered, "Don��t be a dragon. Dragons die."


    "I��m human, how could I turn into a dragon!"


    Through gritted teeth, he endured the mounting agony.


    Then, curiously, as the "+" vanished from his bloodline indicator, so did the pain.


    Relief washed over Rhaegar; his skin was free from scales and horns.


    "Fetch me a mirror," hemanded.


    Snapping from her daze, Hena retrieved a small mirror from her space bracelet.


    Rhaegar inspected his reflection��porcin skin, normal-colored lips, still strikingly handsome.


    Spurred by a thought, he shifted into his Dragonborn guise. His skin paled, lips turned blood red, and he exuded a sickly aura.


    Lifting his hair, he revealed ck scales and a horn on his left forehead. The horn was tiny, shorter than a pinky, and awkwardly shaped.


    Rhaegar��s lips twitched involuntarily as he faced the truth he didn��t want to admit: "A deformity!"


    It was neither a dragon horn nor a deer''s, just a peculiar, misshapen protrusion.


    "How could this happen?"


    Rhaegar suppressed his Dragonborn state and felt a heavy darkness settle over him. His pure bloodline had given him numerous advantages: increased magical power, easier connection with dragons, a natural intimidating presence, enhanced physical strength, and a longer life span.


    Yet now, side effects emerged.


    Seeing her brother''s sadness, Hena darted to him like a fawn, enveloping him in a warm embrace. Amused, Rhaegar patted her back, reassuring her that he was fine.


    Despite the unrest in Dorne, the defiance of Braavos, and the yet-unpunished Citadel, he remained undeterred. A headache was a minor inconveniencepared to his ability to wield a sword.


    Tru approached cautiously. "Prince, your symptoms resemble those of some Targaryen infants who died at birth."


    Rhaegar was stunned. Targaryen women often gave birth to deformed fetuses with scales, wings, and tails. His mother had endured multiple pregnancies; after Rhaenyra and before him, several babies had been stillborn or aborted, some resembling scaled creatures.


    A strange term shed through Rhaegar''s mind: "Dragon''s Blood Bacsh".


    Fragile embryos couldn''t withstand the purity of their blood. Rhaegar tightened his grip on Hena, questioning himself, "Is it the same thing?"


    The Targaryens'' ability to control dragons stemmed from their unique bloodline, a potent blend of fire and strength. This bloodline had facilitated Rhaegar''s transformation but also brought hidden dangers. Excessive purity could trigger unknown changes.


    "There must have been Dragonborns in Old Valyria. How did they manage?"


    Rhaegar''s focus shifted from the cause to the solution. Ancient Valyrians, adept in pyromancy and blood magic, surely possessed the knowledge to handle Dragonborns.


    He mused, "If Dragonborns existed, there must be a way to control their power."


    His hand slid down Hena''s back, brushing the dragon whip at her waist. His bloodline wasn''t a curse; he simplycked the means to unlock its potential.


    "Get up, my head doesn''t hurt anymore."


    Rhaegar''s voice softened as he stroked Hena''s head, anchoring himself infort rather than emotion.


    Of course, he wouldn''t forget the treachery.


    "Mmm-hmm."


    Tearfully, Hena nodded and kissed his cheek. Rhaegar epted it, feeling the wet warmth.


    He looked to the sky. The sun zed overhead, scorching the earth. In the courtyard, a fountain sprayed water, nourishing the greenery.


    "Tru, remember what I said?"


    "Always."


    "Good. Bring the talents to Harrenhal. I have great ns for them."


    Rhaegar''s eyes shone with a light as brilliant as the sun he gazed upon.


    The ingratitude of the Citadel was astounding. They believed that monopolizing the knowledge of Westeros would allow them to manipte and deceive at will.


    Rhaegarcked the time and resources to dismantle the Citadel and deal with the ensuing chaos. But he knew one thing for certain: any power another held over him was a bond to be broken.


    Determined to end this millennia-old cultural monopoly, he set out to create an institution capable of recing the Citadel. He would recruit disillusioned Maesters and give them a new purpose.


    Tru nodded vigorously and shuffled away, ready to begin the monumental task of undermining the Citadel''s hold.


    Rhaegar surveyed the empty white hall, then took Hena''s hand and led her into the sunlit courtyard.


    "Let��s go. The war beyond the Narrow Sea is distant. Westeros needs a war closer to home, with blood and fire!"


    He stepped out of the hall.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal dragon''s green eyes glinted dully as its wings unfurled, casting a shadow over the meticulously tended garden. As itnded, its feet shattered the floorboards, and its tail sent a cascade of greenery flying.


    Rhaegar hoisted Hena onto the dragon''s back. His expression calm, hemanded in the High Valyrian, "Spread your wings and fly!"


    In an instant, a ck dragon erupted from the white castle, soaring over the walls and the human alliance below, heading for the red mountains hundreds of miles away.


    "Roar..."


    A second roar echoed as a light blue dragon emerged from ake, pursuing the ck dragon like a spectral shadow.


    Outside Highgarden, Ormund rode a white war horse, his gaze fixed on the two dragons above.


    "Yah!"


    Donald approached on horseback, a massive sword slung across his back. He exchanged a knowing nce with Ormund.


    With a snort, Ormund drew his sword and bellowed, "The army is breaking camp!"


    In a flurry of movement, tens of thousands of horses stirred. The coalition army of the Reach, bearing countless banners, followed the dragons with unwavering resolve.

 Chapter 435: The Prince’s Pass Meat Grinder

    Chapter 435: The Prince��s Pass Meat Grinder


    Dornish Marches


    A cavalry force of 3,000 men approached, trampling the grass in their path. The midday sun burned fiercely.


    The army slowed and halted at a stream. ording to the map, they were at the edge of the Red Mountains, dozens of miles from Nightsong, at the entrance to the Prince''s Pass.


    "Roar..."


    Two dragons, one ck and one light blue,nded on the riverbank as soldiers carefully tended to sheep and cattle.


    In a tent on the hillside, Rhaegar, dressed in ck, met with nobles and lords to discuss strategy. They had to decide how and where to fight. Time was slipping away.


    Outside the camp, a raven swooped down. A messenger from Nightsong reported that mercenaries had attacked the stronghold with refugees and were in desperate need of assistance.


    Ormund read the letter aloud. "Highgarden has sent 3,000 soldiers to reinforce the garrison, but House Caron still struggles to withstand the attack."


    "Decades of peace have left some fortresses in disrepair, and the garrison is understaffed," Donald retorted.


    "Thirty thousand refugees will soon besiege Nightsong if the fortress falls."


    "The Prince''s Pass has many fortresses. If we hurry, we can reach Nightsong before the refugees," another lord added.


    The room filled with heated debate. The Prince''s Pass, unlike the steep Boneway, was wide and fortified with watchtowers and arrow towers, though insufficient against thousands of refugees. Despite strong fortresses guarded by hundreds of soldiers,ck of supplies made them vulnerable to well-equipped mercenaries.


    Ormund, halting the arguments, spoke seriously. "Prince, the refugees are heading to Nightsong en masse. We must leave immediately."


    The camp was close enough to offer support. Rhaegar studied the map intently. The Prince''s Pass was a direct route, and Nightsong sat on a hill at its entrance. Refugees would break through the strongholds and eventually block the entrance.


    Rhaegar formted a n. When the enemy arrives, there would be no time for further discussion.


    His eyes narrowed. "The cavalry will depart at first light, reaching the pass before sunset to confront the refugees."


    "Shouldn''t we wait for the rest of the army?" Donald frowned, preferring to wait for the infantry.


    Rhaegar nced at him. "Do you doubt that 3,000 cavalry can handle 30,000 refugees?"


    Westerosi cavalry, d in armor and armed withnces, were formidable. A cavalry charge could scatter ten times their number of regr troops, let alone 30,000 refugees.


    Donald conceded, "No problem, Prince."


    "Then let��s move before the refugees reach the pass," Rhaegarmanded, exiting the tent.


    He aimed to set the battlefield at The Prince''s Pass, preventing the refugees from breaching the blockade and escaping into the Reach.


    ...


    The Prince''s Pass


    Ragged refugees huddled in the shadows of the mountains, seeking respite from the scorching sun. Their numbers were vast, like a dense ant colony.


    Most were emaciated, lying on the ground like corpses, the yellow sand blowing over them. ck smoke billowed from a watchtower on either side of the mountain, its walls crumbling and dpidated.


    Some of the refugees stared nkly, silently praying to their gods. Compared to when they first entered the Prince''s Pass, there were fewer strange faces among them. As food supplies dwindled, more refugees starved to death, unable to keep up with the mercenaries.


    The mercenaries, joined by a contingent of Dornish soldiers, pressed on toward Nightsong.


    ...


    Meanwhile


    In front of the Nightsong barrier, a fortress garrison stood vignt. Positioned near the entrance to The Prince''s Pass, it boasted two arrow towers on either side of the ridge, with soldiers concealed within.


    The path narrowed below, fortified with trenches and barbed wire to deter intruders.


    Whoo-whoo-whoo...


    Suddenly, a solemn horn red from one of the arrow towers.


    At the end of the road, the enemy appeared.


    Two thousand mercenaries in light armor, wielding curved swords and crossbows, marched forward. Alongside them were over a thousand Dornish soldiers, d in yellow-brown armor, armed with curved swords and round shields. Battle was at hand.


    As the enemy approached, the arrow towers unleashed a barrage of arrows.


    "Charge! Bring down the tower!" the mercenaries shouted in Valyrian. Shieldbearers advanced in front, crossbowmen behind.


    They dismantled the heavy palisades, set up woodendders, and bridged the moat.


    "Release the arrows!" The defenders responded fiercely, raining down ming arrows.


    The arrows ignited the palisades and the oil-soaked trenches, which burst into mes.


    "Over the moat!" Sacrificing several men, the mercenaries jumped the narrow trench and began scaling the ridges.


    Boom!


    Rocks tumbled down, crushing everything in their path. The arrow towers were formidable defensive positions, but the enemy''s numbers were overwhelming.


    Eventually, the arrow towers exhausted their supply of gunpowder and stones, resorting to defending the gate and shooting arrows.


    Woo-hoo-hoo...


    As the defenders'' arrows dwindled and the arrow towers faced imminent copse, a resounding horn echoed through the air.


    Alongside it came the unmistakable sound of horses neighing.


    Three thousand cavalrymen charged down the narrow road, banners fluttering in the wind.


    "Charge!" Ormund shouted, his spirit high as he held aloft his house Valyrian steel sword Vignce.


    The cavalry surged forward, the first row of soldiers grimacing as they leveled their yard-longnces. The road was so narrow that the mercenaries had no choice but to climb the ridge.


    A cacophony of collisions and screams ensued.


    After the first charge, many mercenariesy on the ground, speared like locusts.


    "Counterattack! Shoot!" The mercenaries quickly regrouped, forming a defensive line with spearmen and shield bearers at the front to protect their archers.


    Swish! Swish! Swish!


    The mercenaries fired their crossbows in rapid session, creating a continuous volley of bolts. The heavy armor of the cavalry rendered the arrows ineffective against their iron tes, but the unarmored horses beneath them took hits to the chest, belly, and legs, causing some to fall with their riders.


    "Regroup! Charge!" Ormund shouted. Under the protection of their guards, the cavalry charged again. The rear row became the front,nces poised, while the front row, now in the rear, switched to swords.


    "Roar!"


    A deafening roar echoed between the mountains. A ck dragon soared in, its massive body obscuring the road, wings casting a dark shadow over the battlefield. Rhaegar, sitting on the dragon''s back,manded impassively, "Dracarys!"


    Cannibal''s cruel green eyes narrowed as it leaned forward, opening its blood-red mouth.


    Boom!


    Dark green Dragonfire cascaded from the sky, spreading over the mercenary ranks like a living mist. The fire clung to them, growing and consuming like maggots on a bone. At first, the mercenaries did not realize the danger, but soon they were reduced to charred corpses.


    "Ah! We''re on fire!"


    "Run! Hide in the arrow tower, the dragon ising..."


    Panic erupted among the mercenaries. Their formation copsed as they wailed and tried to extinguish the relentless green fire.


    Ormund seized the moment, ordering the cavalry to charge, skillfully avoiding the burning mercenaries and targeting the fleeing Dornish soldiers.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal roared again, pping its wings and gliding low, spitting Dragonfire at the mercenaries scrambling on the ridge.


    "No! No!" The mercenaries'' cries echoed as Dragonfire engulfed their bodies. Trapped between the cavalry on the road and the dragon above, their fate was sealed.


    An unprecedented disaster had befallen the invaders.


    "Quickly finish the job!" Rhaegar ordered, stopping Ormund from bing too engrossed in the ughter.


    "Roar!"


    At that moment, another dragon''s roar filled the air. In the valley behind the road, a huge fire of orange and blue zed, adding to the chaos.

 Chapter 436: The Soft-hearted Policy

    Chapter 436: The Soft-hearted Policy


    Rhaegar''s attention was drawn to a faint, piercing scream.


    "Hena!"


    He recognized the sound; it came from Hena''s dragon patrol area. She must have encountered another enemy force.


    ncing down, he saw the battlefield littered with the bodies of fallen mercenaries, their armor and weapons scattered like debris.


    "Cannibal, more fire," Rhaegarmanded, patting the dragon''s back.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal swooped down, unleashing a torrent of Dragonfire along the road, creating an impassable barrier of mes. The panicked mercenaries, caught mid-escape, were forced back by the searing heat.


    "Charge!" Ormund bellowed, leading the cavalry charge.


    On the ridge, the doors of two arrow towers burst open, and over 300 armed soldiers poured out, intercepting the mercenaries attempting to scale the mountain.


    With coordinated efforts from both nks, the mercenaries on the mountain and those below were swiftly annihted.


    "Cannibal, let''s go!" Rhaegar ordered, not sparing a nce backward. Confident in their victory, he directed his dragon skyward.


    In the open sea, dragons might face threats, but in a confined ce like The Prince''s Pass, nked by mountains, it was a deathtrap for any intruding force. No matter how many soldiers entered, they were doomed.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal shook its head proudly, pping its wings and soaring high into the sky, heading toward the other end of the road.


    ...


    The Other Side


    A small fortress stood nestled in the mountain, strategically built into a narrow passageway. The fortress was divided into two parts. One part, the tower, was embedded in the mountain, its shape resembling an upside-down bowl. On the other side, a stone wall extended about ten feet high, connecting to the opposite mountain side. The wall, pierced with loopholes, had a thick iron gate at its center��a typical fortified pass.


    "Roar..."


    The dragon''s roar echoed as orange and light blue Dragonfire pounded the city walls.


    "Crossbow bolts! Aim quickly!"


    "Put out the oil, don''t let it catch fire!"


    Inside the walls, hundreds of mercenaries screamed in terror, their hands trembling as they held three-barrel crossbows.


    The pale blue dragon gracefully circled, setting the walls aze, then turned its fiery wrath on the mountain towers.


    "Dracarys!" Hena''s face was stern as she watched.


    Dreamfyre snorted, unleashing a torrent of Dragonfire that ignited the heavy wooden gate.


    Whoosh! Whoosh!


    Arrows shot from the tower''s firing holes, aiming for the dragon in midair.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre pped its wings, ascending, allowing the arrows to strike its chest and belly, scattering sparks. With scales as tough as steel tes, the damage from ordinary arrows was negligible.


    "Dreamfyre, don''t let them get away," Henamanded, her eyes fixed on the mercenaries fleeing the city walls.


    "Run! Run deep into the mountains!"


    "The crossbow bolts are useless. Run!"


    The tower gate was breached, and a group of mercenaries poured out, ignoring the Dragonfire at the gate. At a nce, there were no fewer than a thousand of them.


    Hena frowned, urging Dreamfyre to pursue them. The mercenaries and Dornish soldiers had broken into the fortress and were now waiting for reinforcements and siege equipment. The inclusion of refugees added to their numbers, aiding their assault on The Reach.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre''s pupils were cold as he pursued the fleeing mercenaries, burning them with dragonfire. Though many were reduced to ashes, there always seemed to be more.


    Hena watched anxiously, determined to let none escape.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal flew in swiftly, its massive body streaking across the barren red mountains like a dark meteor.


    "Dracarys!" Rhaegarmanded, his gaze merciless as he saw the enemies scattering below.


    Cannibal''s green pupils gleamed with cunning as its wings spread wide, gliding along the mountainsides.


    Boom!


    Dark green dragonfire erupted, scorching the mountains and consuming the mercenaries who tried to climb.


    The Prince''s Pass filled with the endless wails and screams of the doomed invaders.


    ...


    Nightfall.


    The Reach army had entered the Prince''s Pass, reiming one fallen stronghold after another.


    At the rear, in Nightsong, a council convened.


    "The raven has delivered messages to ckhaven and the Stornds. The front line must be held at all costs," Rhaegar dered, tapping his fingers on the table. "Five thousand men from the Westends and the Rivends will be assembled at the Prince''s Pce."


    "Yes, Prince."


    "The Reach''s coalition forces have broken through The Prince''s Pass. We must take the Boneway and the Greenblood River. Dorne will be split into three battlefields," Rhaegar continued, his expression solemn as he analyzed the battle situation.


    The Prince''s Pass and the Boneway hid mercenaries from overseas and tens of thousands of homeless refugees. The Reach forces would upy the entrance and the first half of the Prince''s Pass with the strategic goal of taking Dorne.


    At the end of the Prince''s Passy the castle of Kingsgrave. The exit led to the impregnable fortress of Skyreach. House Fowler of Skyreach, descendants of the First Men and one of the most powerful and noble lords in Dorne, held many titles, including "Lord of the Great Road" and "Guardian of the Prince''s Pass."


    Alongside House Yronwood, known as the "Bloodroyals" and "Wardens of the Stone Way," they were the most powerful vassals under House Martell.


    Donald suggested, "Prince, we have two unstoppable dragons. We can attack Kingsgrave and then assault Skyreach."


    Hena, listening intently, perked up and nodded eagerly.


    Rhaegar thought for a moment and said, "Breaking into the city is not a problem." Thebined strength of Cannibal and Dreamfyre was undeniable, even more powerful than Caraxes and Meleys beyond the Narrow Sea.


    Rhaegar''s finger rested on a fortress on the sand table. "There are tens of thousands of refugees here, blocking the army''s path."


    "Send troops to drive them away," Ormund suggested nonchntly.


    "Who would even look at a few refugees?"


    Rhaegar shook his head. "The number of refugees is immense. Driving them away recklessly would be counterproductive. It would be no different from killing them all."


    With discerning eyes, he saw another solution.


    Ormund smiled sardonically. "What should we do then, kill them all?"


    The sheer number of refugees, many from Dorne, made the task daunting. ording to the traditions of Westeros, knights were supposed to protect the weak and helpless, not massacre civilians.


    "No, I don''t want to repeat the events of the First Dorne War," Rhaegar shook his head again.


    Dorne was an extraordinarynd. The native Dornish were not distinguished, resembling the short, dark-skinned Dornishmenof the Red Mountains. It was not until the Queen of the Rhoynar Warriors, Nymeria, crossed the sea that the Rhoynar bloodline was integrated into Dorne.


    The Rhoynar had once faced the ancient freehold of Valyria in Essos. During the Rhoyne War, Rhoynar water wizards manipted the river and killed three dragon riders. In retaliation, the Freehold sent 300 dragon riders, devastating the Rhoynar forces.


    The Rhoynar fought valiantly, with Garin the Great calling on 250,000 men. However, the 300 dragons proved unstoppable, burning the Rhoyne River dry and ughtering the Rhoynar forces. Garin the Great was captured and caged, forced to watch his people''s massacre.


    After this defeat, Nymeria led the remaining Rhoynar across the sea to escape the Freehold''s pursuit. To this day, the people of Dorne inherited the Rhoynar''s spirit of resistance, fearlessly facing death and war, and defending their territory to the end.


    Rhaegar sighed softly and murmured, "If the other six kingdoms had been as resolute as Dorne, the conquerors would never have set foot in ckwater Bay."


    Unlike the other kingdoms, which either fractured internally or sumbed to the dragons, Dorne stood unyielding.


    "To conquer and, you can''t rely solely on brute force," Rhaegar said sincerely. As a Targaryen and the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, he understood theplexities of rulership. "Dorne must be mine, but killing alone won''t secure it. A blend of kindness and wisdom is essential."


    Closing his eyes, Rhaegar hesitated over his decision. Hena, watching from the side, quietly took his hand and rested her head on his arm. The weight of aplishing what past conquerors could not was immense.


    Ormund, his eyes darting anxiously, urged, "Prince, we must deploy our troops immediately. Perhaps we should drive the refugees toward Kingsgrave."


    Rhaegar opened his eyes and asked, "If someone is starving and knows there is food ahead, why would they turn back?"


    "If we don''t drive them out, our army won''t be able to advance without constant harassment."


    "But we can''t just drive them away," Rhaegar replied, taking a deep breath. Determined, he said, "Provide food for the refugees, designate a ce for them to stay, and assign someone to watch over them."


    "What?" Ormund''s voice rose in disbelief. "These people are from Dorne, and Lord Tyrell has just been murdered!"


    Noble honor might keep them from ughtering refugees, but it didn''t mean they would treat them withpassion. Dorne had rebelled; providing aid seemed inconceivable.


    "Lord Ormund, please remain calm," Hena interjected, her face wrinkling with concern as she stood protectively in front of Rhaegar. "If my brother has decided this, he has his reasons."


    Ormund''s face flushed with frustration, but he looked away, unable to argue further.


    Rhaegar remained patient, exining, "Dorne must pay for its rebellion. With Lord Tyrell''s assassination, Dorne and House Martell will face blood and fire!"


    Realistically, Rhaegar knew the immediate priorities were attacking Dorne and avenging the old Tyrells.


    Ormund''s expression brightened slightly at this, and Donald and the others sighed in relief, fearing the heir prince might abandon revenge.


    Rhaegar continued, "We will attack both Kingsgrave and the capital, but we must not ughter or drive away the refugees. Treating them well may yield unexpected benefits."


    If one approach fails, try another. Reflecting on history, Rhaegar recalled how Aegon the Conqueror''s pride led to significant losses during the First Dorne War,rgely due to the resilientmon folk of Dorne. He understood the multifaceted reasons behind the failure to conquer Dorne.


    The Iron Throne had ruled Westeros for over a hundred years, and the support from the other six kingdoms was no longer an issue. With more than a dozen dragons at theirmand, the Targaryens were formidable.


    Rhaegar outlined his n: Conquer House Martell, dismantle the rebellious Dornish strongholds, and appease themon people of Dorne. These steps, though not necessarily in order, are key to conquering thisnd.

 Chapter 437: Blackmailing House Hightower and the Citadel

    Chapter 437: ckmailing House Hightower and the Citadel


    The need for appeasement left the nobles speechless.


    Rhaegar surveyed the room and asked, "Any further questions?"


    "Appeasement is possible, but who will be responsible for food and medicine?" Ormund asked pointedly.


    The noble lords exchanged uneasy nces and nodded. Helping their old enemies, the people of Dorne, was not a task any of them relished.


    Rhaegar, anticipating this, replied firmly, "House Hightower will provide the food, and the Citadel will support the Maesters and the medicine."


    Ormund immediately objected, "Prince, House Hightower has already paid a heavy price for the war. It is not obligated to help the people of Dorne."


    "This is an order!" Rhaegarmanded.


    "You can''t force me. I''ll have to consult with Your Grace," Ormund replied defiantly, his expression unwavering.


    "Are you sure?" Rhaegar asked, narrowing his eyes. He gently pushed Hena, who was clinging to him, aside and approached Ormund.


    Ormund red back but didn''t move.


    Rhaegar continued to close the distance, his purple eyes gleaming with a chilling light that seemed to pierce through all deceptions.


    Ormund swallowed hard and looked away, unable to maintain his defiance.


    "The cargo ships of Oldtown have never stopped sailing since the war began," Rhaegar stated coolly, his chest nearly touching Ormund''s as he towered over him.


    "Oldtown is the center of trade in Westeros. Maritime trade is natural," Ormund stammered in defense.


    "Did I say maritime trade should be suspended until the war is over?" Rhaegar asked, his voice dripping with cold menace.


    "That was for transporting supplies to The Disputed Lands," Ormund replied, his face pale and sweating.


    Since the outbreak of the Narrow Sea War, maritime trade in the Narrow Sea had been heavily restricted. Lord Bartimos Celtigar was stripped of his title and exiled to the Wall for trading illegally with the hostile Triarchy.


    Rhaegar''s lips curled into a slight smile as he leaned closer and whispered in Ormund''s ear, "The cargo ships from Oldtown are sailing to The Disputed Lands and Vntis without permission. How do you exin that?"


    "No, that''s not true," Ormund protested weakly.


    "Oh?" Rhaegar''s voice turned icy. "Alicent is the queen, but she is only a queen. How long can you protect her, and how long can she protect you?"


    Ormund''s fear was palpable, his face ashen and his lips trembling. At the beginning of the war, Oldtown''s port had never stopped trading, leveraging the Queen''s status and the influence of royal figures like Hena.


    Ormund had secretly purchasedrge quantities of food from The Reach under the guise of military requisitions, selling it to Vntis at exorbitant prices. And where did Vntis send this grain? To finance new allies, of course.


    Rhaegarughed, patting Ormund''s stiff shoulder with a relieved smile. "I don''t care about the previous supplies. The port of Oldtown will be closed until the rebellion in Dorne is over. Do you understand?"


    "I understand," Ormund replied, his leg muscles cramping up. His face turned a ghastly shade of green as he shivered. "The Citadel will provide food to The Prince''s Pass, and I will ask the Citadel to send Maesters to treat the victims in the name of the Lord of Oldtown."


    "Very good!" Rhaegar''s smile grew even brighter, and he pulled Ormund into a hearty embrace. Obedient nobles were good nobles.


    "I''ve given Alicent face, so now you must give me face," Rhaegar thought.


    Ormund, on the verge of tears, forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. He couldn''t fathom why the heir prince had suddenly taken such a keen interest in House Hightower. He had always managed to evade scrutiny.


    In the bright hall, the noble lords watched the interaction between the prince and Ormund, their faces reflecting a mix of emotions as they suppressed their temper. They knew that prince had dirt on House Hightower, and they were not necessarily clean themselves. Nobility wasn''t about who was better, but who was worse.


    Thump! Thump! Rhaegar mmed his fist on the table, his face turning cold again. "After dealing with the refugees, the army will immediately approach Kingsgrave and try to break through The Prince''s Pass within half a month."


    "Yes, Prince," the lords responded in unison.


    "Kingsgrave is vulnerable, and the enemy is still at Skyreach," Rhaegar continued. "Withtwo dragons burning Kingsgrave repeatedly; it can''t hold out much longer."


    ...


    As the Reach army entered the Prince''s Pass, the Boneway and Stornds were thrown into turmoil.


    Royce Caron, upon receiving a distress letter from Nightsong, hastened his efforts to sweep the remaining Dornish forces.


    That night, a fleet of ships docked at the port under Stonehelm''s jurisdiction, supporting the 5,000 Stornds troops. The troops divided into two groups, with 3,000 soldiers boarding the ships.


    At the same time, an army of thousands, fully equipped, arrived at the entrance to the Boneway, near the Prince''s pce.


    The moon shone brightly through the hazy clouds.


    Roar!


    A massive, bronze-scaled dragon with a fearsome appearance soared across the night sky andnded at the Prince''s pce.


    "Your Grace!"


    "Your Grace..."


    Viserys, dressed in his ck crown robes, dismounted from Vermithor. Three Kingsguard in silver armor and white cloaks hurried forward: Erryk and Arryk Cargyll, and Criston Cole, who had recently returned triumphantly from the Stepstones.


    Viserys addressed them with a relieved tone, "First, let''s go to the pce and discuss the strategy for attacking Wyl Castle."


    "Yes, Your Grace."


    "The pce is half-built. Your Grace, watch your step," Cole advised.


    The three Kingsguard surrounded the king as they entered the Prince''s Pce. Located at the entrance to the Boneway, the pce was strategically situated near mountains and water.


    The pce was magnificent, divided into an inner and outer city. The inner city, built of white marble with carved beams, painted rafters, pavilions, and towers, rivaled the beauty of Highgarden. The outer city was still under construction, with only the foundations of the city wallsid.


    As Viserys walked, he admired the surroundings, passing a dragon sculpture. "It''s well built and in a good spot," he remarked with a smile.


    Located at the entrance to the Boneway, the pce served as a crucial staging point for the kingdom''s army to invade Dorne.


    ...


    Beyond the Narrow Sea


    Pentos, the harbor.


    "Kill! Sailors ashore!"


    "Prepare the catapults! Destroy the harbor defenses!"


    Under the dim night sky, the crescent-shaped bay was a scene of chaos.


    Over 30 warships sailed into the harbor, their purple sails casting a sinister hue over the sea. Sailors bustled about, loading catapults with ming logs to bombard the unprepared defenses.


    Within a quarter of an hour, the bay was aze, and smoke filled the sky. The emergency bell rang in Pentos, summoning mercenaries from their homes to defend the city.


    Someone spotted the invaders'' sails and screamed, "Purple ships! Braavos''s strongest fleet!"


    Since its founding, Braavos had established the position of Sealord and trained a formidable fleet. Alongside this, a fleet of purple-sailed merchant ships operated. Together, these fleets��one for attack, one for trade��had made Braavos a maritime powerhouse.


    Boom!


    The purple fleet issued orders with precision,unching relentless catapult attacks on the vulnerable harbor.


    Whoo-hoo-hoo!


    A chilling horn sounded as sailors rushed onto the deck, drawing their curved swords in preparation to go ashore. Against the backdrop of purple sails, the midnight air was thick with murderous intent.


    In the harbor, a white stone tower.


    Prince Reggio leaned against the window, watching the devastation unfold, and prayed, "Gods, please don''t let Braavos get away with this."


    Boom!


    An explosion rocked the tower. Reggio shuddered, closing his eyes and muttering a prayer.


    Looking back at the harbor, he saw the purple fleet had breached the defenses. The harbor was full of burning cargo ships. As the warships docked, sailors poured out, attacking the port with deadly intent.


    The Purple Harbor''s merit system meant every sailor was a key yer.


    "Kill! Capture the fat prince of Pentos alive!"


    "Archers, cover!"


    The garrison, still forming, was quickly overrun by Braavos''s seasoned sailors.


    Hoo-hoo!


    A salty, bloody wind blew as dark clouds obscured the moon, deepening the night. On the vast sea, only the chaotic firelight of the harbor remained.


    A sense of fear permeated every corner of Pentos.


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, a piercing sound wave spread through the night, as if it could shatter eardrums.


    The next moment...


    "Dracarys!"


    A huge scarlet dragon, long and slender, sliced through the night sky, apanied by a proud and resonant male voice.


    Boom!


    Caraxes twisted and glided over the bay, unrestrained, spewing Dragonfire. The scarlet mes cut through the purple-sailed warships like a fiery pir, destroying the siege equipment on their decks.


    "Roar..."


    Another dragon''s roar echoed through the night, filled with deep, untouchable rage.


    The sailors on deck looked up in panic, catching only a glimpse of scarlet.


    "Dracarys!"


    Rhaenys, her eyes bloodshot, shouted at the top of her lungs. Meleys'' wings spread wide, its body blending into the night, transforming into a crimson ghost.


    Boom!


    The ghostly figure hovered over the harbor, unleashing a torrent of red dragonfire that engulfed the Braavos sailors who had disembarked.


    "Dragon!!"


    "How can there be a dragon in Pentos?"


    "Break through the defenses and enter the Free Cities for street fighting. Do not meet the dragon head on!"


    The Braavos sailors were horrified, but the captains remained calm and urged their men to flee to the city. The dragons had cut off their retreat to the ships, leaving the city as their only refuge.


    Daemon, d in ck armor, smiled sarcastically. "Cousin, I''ll take care of the harbor. Don''t let those guys get away."


    Ruling Tyrosh andmanding a Free City as he pleased was exhrating.


    Rhaenys'' eyes were filled with grief, and she gritted her teeth. "I''ll take care of the harbor!"


    "Roar..."


    Sensing its rider''s fury, Meleys surged forward with unrestrained speed, a red lightning bolt leaving a trail of wreckage and charred corpses in its wake.


    Daemon watched with interest, amusement tinging his voice. "A dragon mother who has lost her cub."


    When news of Laenor''s murder reached the Disputed Lands, Rhaenys, who had lost her son in middle age, nearly went mad.


    After a moment, Daemon lost interest. He pped Caraxes'' scarlet scales andmanded in dragon tongue, "Burn them all!"


    He had learned the binding spell as well.


    "Roar!"


    With bloodshot eyes and a habit of screeching, Caraxes charged into the purple battlefield. Soon, the scarlet dragonfire engulfed the bay.


    A massacre of blood and fire began silently.

 Chapter 438: The Fall of Qoren (I)

    Chapter 438: The Fall of Qoren (I)


    The Next Day, at Dawn


    The harbor was shrouded in smoke, and the wreckage of the shattered ships littered the sea.


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes circled the sky, twisting like a snake, patrolling the bay in the morning sun.


    In the harbor, the garrisonbored to remove the remains of the Braavos sailors.


    Prince Reggio surveyed the scene in a daze, as if caught in a dream. Braavos''s most powerful fleet of purple-harbor warships had been destroyed overnight.


    Daemon strolled over, his ck steel helmet under his arm and a smile on his lips. "Did you have a good dreamst night, prince?"


    Reggio, as if waking from a trance, hurried forward. "Prince Daemon, thank you for your help. You are as great as your ancestor, the Conqueror."


    "Oh, it was nothing," Daemon replied, raising his chin, clearly pleased.


    During the Century of Blood, the fleet of Vntis had upied Lys and invaded Myr. When they attempted to conquer Tyrosh, they faced fierce resistance. Conqueror Aegon had ridden Balerion across the Narrow Sea, burning the Vntis fleet and turning the tide of the war. Daemon''s rescue of Pentos was a simr feat.


    Reggio took Daemon''s hand, weing him warmly. "Pleasee to the Prince''s Pce. I must treat you well."


    "Just hospitality?" Daemon''s smile didn''t reach his eyes, his tone questioning.


    Reggio pped his forehead and quickly added, "Tyrosh has just regained its peace. I am willing to provide sufficient supplies to forge an unbreakable friendship between our cities."


    Daemon''s mouth curled up as he listened to Reggio''s ttery. Both sides needed resources��one required armed protection, the other, supplies. They formed an alliance.


    "Daemon!"


    Rhaenys, d in red armor, approached. After a night of mourning, her face was haggard, her expression downcast. The pain of losing her son was evident.


    Daemon raised a hand, silencing Reggio, then turned to face her.


    Rhaenys'' eyes were red and swollen, but she forced a smile. "Braavos has been repelled. I must return to Westeros."


    "Back to Westeros? Does my dear nephew know?" Daemon frowned. The three Free Cities had only just been recovered and remained unstable.


    Rhaenys shook her head. "Laenor was killed, and Myr and Lys need you to look after them."


    "You really have faith in me," Daemon muttered.


    "You are a Targaryen. You will not disappoint Viserys'' expectations," Rhaenys said, looking around at the devastation, her heart aching. "I have to find my child. I want to see him alive or at least find the body."


    She still couldn''t ept her son''s death. Such a vibrant life, taken not in war, but by betrayal.


    Daemon remained silent, uninterested in responding.


    "It''s settled then. You watch over The Disputed Lands," Rhaenys dered, ignoring his mood. She embraced Daemon, forcing a smile, then turned and walked away.


    Meleys, on all fours, lowered its horned head for the rider to climb.


    "Roar!"


    Momentster, Meleys soared into the sky, disappearing swiftly over the vast ocean.


    Daemon watched, his eyes dark and uncertain. It felt inhumane to be left alone beyond the Narrow Sea. He lowered his head, rubbing his blood-stained fingertips, and muttered, "Dorne rebels, Qoren..."


    ...


    The Prince''s Pass, Kingsgrave


    Perched on a cliff with treacherous terrain, Kingsgrave stood isted. At its base, a coalition army from The Reach had set up camp. The encampment stretched for a kilometer, with smoke rising from numerous cooking fires, sheltering no fewer than 5,000 troops.


    Donald, heavily armored with a fierce gaze, patrolled back and forth. Since the conciliatory policy was announced the previous night, themander of the coalition forces, Ormund, had been reduced to a figurehead, removed from the front line and tasked with aiding the refugees.


    Thanks to Ormund''s troops leading tens of thousands of refugees away, the army reached Kingsgrave without incident.


    "Lord, a letter from Kingsgrave," a messenger reported urgently, handing Donald the letter.


    Donald read it carefully. An hour earlier, the heir prince had sent terms of surrender to Kingsgrave. Anger shed in Donald''s eyes as he finished reading, cursing under his breath, "Dornish scum!"


    The letter, written in clear, elegant handwriting, centered on the Iron Throne and The Reach, attempting to showcase Dornish qualities. Donald handed it back to the messenger with a stern order, "Give this to the Prince."


    "Yes, my lord," the messenger replied and quickly left.


    Soon after...


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    Two dragons roared repeatedly, their wings spread wide as they circled over Kingsgrave. The scorching sun cast shadows from the massive dragons onto the red cliffs below. One dragon was ck, the other light blue, their silhouettes imposing.


    Kingsgrave was under full martialw, with ravens dispatched in all directions. The crisis was imminent.


    ...


    Dorne, Sunspear


    Inside the Tower of the Sun, heated negotiations were underway. Qoren, crouched on the royal throne, his handsome face twisted in anger, demanded, "The Reach has invaded the Prince''s Pass. Dorne needs more supplies."


    In the pce of pale marble, a young man with luxuriant blond hair stood tall and calm. "Your army is useless, Prince. The Sealord has decided not to provide any more funds."


    "Nonsense!" Qoren red at him and pointed angrily. "Dorne has sent troops to the Stornds and the Red Mountains, tying up the Iron Throne''s forces."


    "That won''t help," the young man shrugged. The Sealord''s decision was final.


    Seeing the other man''s hostility, Qoren controlled his temper and asked, "Who murdered the Lord of Highgarden? I gave no such order in Sunspear."


    The young man thought for a moment and replied innocently, "It''s not helpful to discuss this now."


    Qoren''s eyes grew cold. "The death of Lord Highgarden has set The Reach aze, and it has already reached Kingsgrave. Does Braavos expect to escape unscathed?"


    His anger barely contained, Qoren reflected on his n to use the Iron Throne to eliminate internal conflicts in Dorne, leveraging Braavos''s support. Now, everything had gone awry. Braavos had assassinated Lord Highgarden, cing the me unjustly on Dorne. The nobles of The Reach, convinced of Dorne''s guilt, would not relent.


    The young man''s patience wore thin, and he retorted, "I received news this morning that the Purple Harbor fleet failed in their attack on Pentos and was burned to the ground by dragons. Do you think Braavos was just watching?"


    The loss of 50 ships in one night was devastating, but Qoren remained unmoved. "Can''t you see the losses Dorne has suffered? Don''t you think Braavos is shameless for withdrawing its support at this time?"


    The war had shifted from the Narrow Sea to Dorne, and now, in the midst of conflict, Braavos was pulling out, leaving Dorne to fend for itself.


    The young man sneered, "Not only is Braavos no longer funding us, but the remnants of the Triarchy have decided to move their efforts to ver''s Bay." He paused, adding mockingly, "If you are capable, you can get funding from Vntis."


    After the war in the Narrow Sea, Vntis had begun to make subtle moves��first secretly contacting Dorne, then recruiting mercenaries.


    Qoren fell silent. Vntis was no better, merely seeking to protect its interests against the Targaryens, using Dorne as a distraction. The same principle applied here. Qoren''s war against the Iron Throne was driven by fear that the Iron Throne would unify the lower half of the Narrow Sea and turn its sights on Dorne.


    But cunning ns had unraveled, and now, both Braavos and its secret allies were abandoning Dorne to its fate.


    Qoren pondered for a moment and then asked quietly, "What does Braavos need?"


    The forces beyond the Narrow Sea would not allow Dorne to fall; otherwise, the Iron Throne''s Dragonfire would turn toward them next.


    The young man replied, "Wait. The Sealord has a n and is preparing an ultimate weapon."


    "An ultimate weapon?" Qoren was taken aback. "What could that be?"


    The young man shook his head. "I don''t know either. The Sealord is keeping it a secret, causing dissatisfaction among the bankers at the Iron Bank."


    The Sealord''s secrecy had strained rtions, and the Iron Bank had drastically reduced his war budget in protest.


    Qoren waved his hand dismissively. "I understand. Dorne will defeat the Reach Alliance on its own, and we''ll discuss funding afterward."


    Ultimately, Dorne needed to prove its worth as a financial partner. Despite losing over 10,000 soldiers in the Stornds, Dorne was far from a position where it would lose its funding. With the Red Mountains'' natural defenses, the major nobles could easily block the Reach Alliance.


    "Then I will take my leave," the young man said, departing the pce under the disapproving nces of the guards.


    Once he was gone, Qoren slumped back against the throne, feeling the weight of his predicament. Braavos was clearly sending a warning to prevent him from taking their support for granted.


    "s, a tough battle lies ahead," Qoren muttered helplessly.


    Davos Dayne, the Prince''s personal guard, spoke up, "Skyreach and Yronwood are easy to defend but hard to attack. They are supported by Hellholt and Sandstone."


    Dorne has many powerful noble lords. In the Red Mountains, there are also House ckmont and the Starfall, which are located in remote areas. As long as they sail into The Summer Sea and enter the maind via Brimstone, you can join forces with Hellholt.


    Qoren sighed sadly. "Tell Lord Uller to recruit soldiers and be ready to attack at any time. There are no regr troops, but we have many temporary recruits. The people of Dorne are fierce and tough. With the armor provided by Braavos, they are no worse than the seasoned soldiers of The Reach."


    "Yes, Prince," Davos replied, nodding before leaving to carry out the order.


    ...


    Time passed quickly.


    The negotiations in Sunspear were over, and the Braavos merchant ship docked in nky Town slowly sailed out of the harbor. The ship sailed down the river, along the estuary, into the Summer Sea.


    The sun was scorching, and the sea breeze was salty and damp.


    Suddenly, a warship flying the g of the Seahorses appeared on the horizon.


    The lookout on the deck of the merchant ship gasped and cried out in terror, "A warship! A warship of House Vryon!"


    But it was toote. A warship appeared, followed by a second, a third... until a dozen ships came into view, their decks filled with soldiers in full armor.


    The Sea Snake, d in silver-gray armor, stood at the bow of the lead ship, his expression solemn. "The ships are approaching. Attack!"


    "Roar..."


    As soon as themand was given, a golden dragon glided in, its pale pink wings pping in the wind.


    "Dracarys!"

 Chapter 439: The Wild Dragon of the Summer Sea

    Chapter 439: The Wild Dragon of the Summer Sea


    Boom!


    The golden dragonfire descended like a pir of fire and crashed into the cargo ship. Aegon, d in silver armor, looked down arrogantly andughed. "Burn them all! Drunkards and good-for-nothings!"


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre, glowing golden, soared through the sky and delivered a devastating blow. The cargo ship, unarmed with scorpion crossbows, was helpless, a sitting target for the attack.


    House Vryon''s warships lowered their rams and mmed into the freighter, crushing its cabin.


    Woo-hoo-hoo!


    A celebratory horn sounded. Soldiers jumped through the rams onto the enemy ship, initiating a lopsided massacre. In moments, the battle was over. The cargo ship burned violently, and bodies sank into the sea.


    The Sea Snake watched impassively, his deep eyes cold and unreadable.


    "My lord, we have captured a Braavos merchant and are interrogating him," the deputy officer reported, his tone serious.


    Feeling the familiar salty sea breeze on his face, the Sea Snake closed his eyes briefly and replied, "Interrogate him harshly."


    Dorne and Braavos were allies, and any cargo ship could carry information.


    "Yes, my lord."


    "Sail on to the Greenblood River!"


    "Yes!"


    After the adjutant left, the Sea Snake fell into a contemtive silence. His earlier leniency had allowed the Dornish soldiers to regroup in the Stornds. If he had pursued them relentlessly from the start, perhaps Laenor would not have been killed.


    "Roar..."


    As the cargo ship sankpletely, Aegon rode Sunfyre ahead, exploring the Greenblood River, leaving the fleet behind. The Sea Snake let Aegon take the lead, finding morefort in hispetence than in the reckless Prince Aemond.


    Lost in thought, the Sea Snake''s mind began to empty. The fleet slowly sailed through The Summer Sea.


    Suddenly, a mist rose from the water, blocking out the scorching sun. The Sea Snake opened his arms, inhaling the salty sea air he had known all his life. A hint of nostalgia crossed his dark face.


    "Roar..."


    A melodious wailing drifted through theyers of fog, echoing across the ocean. The Sea Snake''s eyes snapped open, searching for the source of the sound.


    A light silver dragon burst through the mist, disappearing in an instant.


    The Sea Snake stood dazed, eyes red and lips trembling. "Laenor!"


    The dragon was searching for its rider.


    The fog obscured his vision, and a wave of sadness welled up within him, making his breathing irregr. When he first heard of his son''s death, he felt not grief but anger��anger at the treachery, anger at his son''s failure, and anger at his own misjudgment.


    Now, seeing Seasmoke searching for his master, the Sea Snake''s heart was deeply touched. The emotions he had buried exploded, and he could no longer hold back his longing for his son.


    A tear rolled down his cheek, shattering on the silver-gray breastte.


    The Sea Snake closed his eyes, then opened them again, his expression hardening back to its cold demeanor. The sorrow buried in his heart nourished the seeds of revenge.


    Crunch, crunch...


    His clenched fists creaked, and a murderous intent gleamed in his eyes. "Dorne, House Martell, House Vryon will not forget," he muttered.


    "Roar!"


    As if in response to his vow, a majestic dragon roar echoed across the sea. In an instant, the sea breeze blew wildly, and the thick fog dissipated.


    The Sea Snake stared into the depths of the fog, eyes wide with shock. A massive creature stirred, then soared southward towards The Summer Sea.


    He tried to discern its shape, but the thick fog limited visibility. Soon, the beast disappeared, leaving only a vague impression of its enormous size and dragon-like form.


    A moss-green w briefly broke through the clouds.


    "Laena?" The Sea Snake looked around in confusion, thinking it was Vhagar. His gaze followed the creature��s departure, further south than the Summer Isles, towards the vast continent of Sothoryos.


    "Forget it. The important thing is to capture the Greenblood River." Shaking his head, the Sea Snake refocused on the task at hand.


    After a long time, the fleet emerged from the fog, revealing and covered with tropical trees to the north. The forest bordered a wide river mouth, where turbulent waters flowed into the sea.


    The adjutant stepped forward and reported, "Lord, Lemonwood is just ahead. If we follow the river upstream, we will reach nky Town."


    "The Lemonwood garrison is loose. Tell the fleet to attack directly!" The Sea Snake ordered.


    The fleet moved at hismand, plunging into the estuary. In the Lemonwood, a noble family and a Dorne cavalry unit were stationed along the coast. Their lord, Andrey Dalt, resided in a wooden castle.


    "An unidentified fleet has entered the Greenblood River. Send a message to Sunspear immediately for support!" Andrey panicked, his beard trembling with fear.


    His subordinate rushed to inform the Maester to release the ravens.


    "Roar..."


    A dragon descended from the sky, its pale pink wings pping, releasing fierce Dragonfire onto the wooden castle. Boom! The wood caught fire, turning into the best kind of firewood.


    "Sunfyre, block the fleeing soldiers!" Aegon''s eyes widened, and he was in perfect form.


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre soared through the lemon grove, disying its magnificent form. The golden scales shimmered and shone like a second sun in the sky, boosting the morale of their troops.


    The Sea Snake followed up the attack, brandishing a long-handled curved knife and shouting wildly, "Attack! Straight to nky Town!"


    The calm Greenblood River was stirred up by the winds of blood and fire.


    ...


    The Prince''s Pass


    On the cliffs of Kingsgrave, the sun stood high, scorching thend. The cliffs cracked from the heat, and the air shimmered with distortion. The terrifying dragon roars had ceased, and the two dragons and the Targaryens were nowhere to be seen.


    Kingsgrave, the crypts


    Thousands of people - men, women, and children - huddled in the dark underground space, seeking refuge.


    "Damn it! Damn the Reach, damn the Targaryens!" A grumpy voice ranted, filled with anger and abuse. The speaker, a man in armor, had thick ck curls, olive skin, a small frame, and piercing green eyes. He was Lord Mors Manwoody, Lord of Kingsgrave.


    House Manwoody, an ancient noble house of Dorne, guarded the middle passage of the Prince''s Pass. Their family crest, a crowned skull, honored their founder, who killed an ancient king of the Reach.


    Mors inherited his family''s pride and stubbornness. His shouts frightened the old and weak huddled in the cer, who remained silent and terrified. Even his wife, in a state of shock, sat dazed.


    Exhausted from shouting, Mors called for a guard. "Where is the dragon? Isn''t it supposed to spit dragon fire and burn down my castle?"


    "I don''t know," the guard stammered, looking away.


    Mors'' eyes narrowed. "Tell your Lord what you are hiding!"


    The guard looked at Lady Manwoody and bowed his head. "We were in a hurry to hide in the cer and couldn''t find Lady Lysa. Ser Dickon went into the back garden to look for her."


    "What!?" Mors roared in anger. "I have a son and a daughter, and you just ran off and lost my daughter?"


    The guard''s face turned pale. "There are still soldiers in the tower and the tunnel. They should be able to find her."


    "You''re full of shit!" Mors kicked the guard away, then turned to his wife and pped her. "You can''t even watch the children. I''ll deal with youter." Ignoring the guards'' attempts to stop him, he rushed out of the crypt.


    Back Garden


    The so-called gardencked the fragrance of grass and flowers, hosting only a few roughly nted colorful blooms. The garden was small, without a pool or pavilion. High, thick city walls castrge shadows, befitting the structure of the steep castle.


    Mors, his heart pounding with worry and rage, scanned the garden for any sign of his daughter.


    Giggle...


    In the otherwise ordinary garden, a silver bell-likeugh suddenly rang out.


    By a willow tree with a thick trunk and drooping branches stood a stone bench made of polished bluestone. Seated beneath the tree was a handsome young man with silver hair, dressed in a ck robe, teasing a little girl of about two or three with a candy.


    The little girl had ck curls, fair skin, and a small face that hungrily eyed the candy. Sugar was a luxury item, and many noble families could hardly afford it.


    The silver-haired boy smiled, dangling the candy in front of her. The little girl reached out to grab it, but he lifted his hand higher. She pouted, her eyes showing disappointment. Then, the boy lowered his hand, and the little girl, undaunted, jumped to try and catch it. Again, he pulled his hand back, causing her to miss.


    When her face wrinkled and she was on the verge of tears, the boy finally ced the candy in her mouth, recing her sadness with a sweet, sticky delight.


    "Sweet-toothed little girl," he said, smiling as he bent down to pick her up.


    Under the willow tree, another boy, with ck hair and olive skin, stood nervously watching. The silver-haired youth nced at him and asked, "Do you want some too?"


    "No, I don''t," the boy replied, his face changing as he took a fearful half-step back. He nced to the left, cold sweat running down his back.


    As far as the eye could see, a terrifying ck dragon with green vertical pupils loomed over the castle, its gaze indifferent and imposing.


    The three children and the dragon seemed to coexist peacefully, a sight that made Lord Mors Manwoody''s head spin as he hurried into the garden.


    What was even more terrifying was that the silver-haired youth noticed his arrival and slowly removed his ck robe, smiling warmly. His demeanor was not that of an enemy, but rather like an old friend after many years.


    "Gulp..."


    Mors''s heart skipped a beat, and he swallowed involuntarily. The youth''s smile was as bright as the sun,plementing every nt and flower around, yet it made Mors feel as if he were facing a formidable enemy. Beneath that gentle appearancey a dangerous aura, making him feel like a thorn was pressed against his back.

 Chapter 440: Conquering Kingsgrave

    Chapter 440: Conquering Kingsgrave


    Rhaegar took off his ck robe and casually ced it on a stone bench, just as he would in the sacred forest of the Red Keep.


    He looked at Mors, who was staring back at him.


    Rhaegar appeared calm and natural, surveying Mors with a measured gaze. "Lord Mors, is this how House Manwoody treats their guests, with indifference?"


    Mors'' expression stiffened, and he cursed inwardly.


    You''re the indifferent one. You have my children in your hands, and there''s a dragon ring at us. If I had eaten breakfast, I would have shit my pants by now.


    tter...


    A group of soldiers hurried over, armed with crossbows, surrounding the garden. About fifty of them, by a quick count.


    Mors regained some confidence and shouted, "What do you want? People of Dorne never threaten children!"


    The soldiers'' faces tightened, loading their crossbows.


    "Roar..."


    Before anyone could make a move, a low, rough growl echoed through the garden. The Cannibal stretched its neck, its dragon head looming near the willow tree, green pupils surveying the scene with indifference.


    A bunch of little bugs, so fragile.


    One nce from the dragon, and Mors broke out in a cold sweat.


    "Cannibal, you scared them," Rhaegar said, ncing back at the dragon as if reprimanding it.


    The Cannibal snorted heavily, its tail sweeping across the flowerbed, scattering petals in all directions.


    Rhaegar smiled, cing the little girl down. "Lysa, go y over there," he said gently.


    Lysa stared at the falling petals, her short legs hesitant to move.


    Mors watched the scene, his heart in his throat.


    Rhaegar spread his hands, sighing. "First, I was knighted this year. I won''t harm the young or the old."


    "Second, I''m here for peace. You should be a little more polite to a Targaryen."


    He patted Lysa''s bottom, urging her to go find her parents.


    "Father..." Lysa''s sweet voice called out, her eyes lingering on the candy Rhaegar held.


    That was for my brother. My brother didn''t want it.


    Mors pursed his lips, torn between calling his daughter back and keeping his word.


    He nced at his son under the willow tree, his expression growing even darker.


    They''ve got them all.


    Rhaegar''s voice remained calm. "Surrender. For the sake of your children, don''t resist."


    "No way!" Mors exploded, pointing at Rhaegar. "You think you''re Visenya, but I''m not some weak bitch from the Vale!"


    During the Conqueror''s War, Queen Visenya had ridden Vhagar to The Eyrie, single-handedly subduing the Vale. Her achievements were legendary.


    Rhaegar frowned slightly, meeting Mors'' guilty eyes. "The Vale is my mother''s home, and your words are vulgar. I''m afraid I won''t be able to control myself and kill you," he said seriously.


    Mors bristled, thest trace of defiance making him re back at Rhaegar.


    "s, I''ve said I came for peace," Rhaegar sighed. As a sign of good faith, he removed Truefyre from his belt and ced the sword''s hilt against his ck robe, a symbol of war that he wore for major battles. Removing both was a gesture of sincerity.


    The entire audience watched with bated breath. Dickon''s breathing quickened as he eyed Truefyre. He was only a few steps away from the stone bench, and he could grab the sword in an instant.


    Rhaegar didn''t even nce at him, his every move exuding confidence.


    Mors'' face darkened as he gritted his teeth. "Even if you are the reincarnation of a conqueror and Visenya herself has possessed you, Kingsgrave will never surrender!"


    "Don''t be so quick to judge. What room for resistance do you have?" Rhaegar asked, rubbing Lysa''s little head. "House Martell is too busy to worry about Kingsgrave. It''s just a throwaway city. Why bother preserving the House Manwoody name?"


    His tone was t, as if discussing a trivial matter. He could easily burn Kingsgrave to the ground with his dragons, but subduing House Manwoody held more value.


    Mors didn''t answer but gave a subtle wink. Then, with a loud shout, "Lysa,e back to your father!"


    In an instant, Dickon sprang up, pouncing on Truefyre like a hungry tiger.


    Click!


    The soldiers raised their crossbows, aiming at the silver-haired youth under the willow tree. Rhaegar remained calm, unshaken by the unfolding events. He didn''t care if Dickon took Truefyre.


    Lysa, startled by the roar, stood frozen. Rhaegar gently turned her towards Mors, whispering, "Go to your father, you little fool."


    Lysa, confused, shuffled forward.


    Swish!


    Dickon drew Truefyre, the ck de glistening with a myriad of stars, and pointed it at its original owner. Rhaegar smiled faintly, looking past Manwoody and his son, and said calmly, "There''s something, but not much."


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal growled, pressing its jaw against the crown of the willow tree, dark green Dragonfire umting in its mouth. Behind the thick willow, the dragon''s massive body loomed, casting a shadow that covered half the castle.


    At that moment, Rhaegar slowly stood, the smile vanishing from his face.


    He didn''t attack immediately. Instead, he watched as Lysa walked clumsily halfway across the room. Then he whistled.


    "Z!"


    The ruby at the end of Truefyre''s hilt glowed red, and heat spread from the hilt to the tip of the sword.


    "Ah!"


    Dickon screamed, his palm nearly burning through, and Truefyre fell to the ground.


    Rhaegar reached for his belt with his right hand, a dark light shing like lightning and striking Mors in front of him.


    Crack!


    The ck dragon-taming whip wrapped around Mors'' neck, tightening and then suddenly retracting. Mors was yanked back like a fish on a hook, pulled towards Rhaegar at lightning speed.


    "Come on!" Rhaegar called out, raising his right foot.


    Morsnded at his feet, cushioning his fall.


    "Stop!"


    "Let go of the Lord!"


    Dickon was horrified, and the soldiers cried out in unison.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal''s green eyes shed with malice, and a burst of Dragonfire engulfed all the soldiers in the garden. The wailing stopped abruptly, reced by a loud cry.


    "Waa waa..."


    Three-year-old Lysa cried out in fear, running back on her short legs.


    Rhaegar, stepping on Mors, tightened the dragon whip and said with regret, "Look what you''ve done."


    He had taken off his ck robe, showing he had no intention of killing anyone.


    Mors, terrified but still stubborn, insisted, "I won''t surrender. Don''t waste your time!"


    At that moment, he finally understood why the Vale had surrendered to Visenya. A dragon flies into your backyard, and the dragon''s owner is holding your child. You try to fight back, but the dragon''s Dragonfire burns all your soldiers. And the most outrageous thing is that you can''t even defeat the dragon''s owner. You are captured like a pig.


    Rhaegar smiled.


    He let go of the tightening dragon whip, hanging it back on his waist. Ignoring Dickon ''s angry, hateful gaze, he picked up Truefyre from the ground.


    Finally, he lifted the ck robe with one hand and the sobbing Lysa with the other. Looking down at Mors, he said, "No one can help you. Think of your children. They still have a bright future."


    He was giving Mors a choice. The ck robe or his daughter?


    Mors got up unsteadily and said, "What do you want? I am a noble of Dorne, and I have my own Lord. I cannot pledge my loyalty to the Iron Throne."


    "Qoren is nothing but a warlord using this war to weaken the noble families," Rhaegar replied, hitting the nail on the head. He then offered an olive branch: "Serve the Iron Throne, and I will make you a Lord, expanding the territory of House Manwoody."


    He pinched Lysa''s nose gently and added with a smile, "Fight for the Iron Throne, and your son can be my squire, while your daughter can be sent to Dragonstone to be apanion to the Princess of the Targaryens."


    Quite generous terms.


    Mors paused, skeptical. "Are you sure? On what basis?"


    He couldn''t believe such an opportunity had just fallen into hisp. If Dorne surrendered to the Iron Throne, it would break its back and face rejection from its sworn enemies in The Reach and elsewhere.


    Rhaegar replied calmly, "My child is about to be born, and there may be a daughter as well." Half-true, half-false, but sincere in spirit.


    Mors looked at his children and nced at the terrifying ck dragon. His heart sank. He had no energy left to resist. He gritted his teeth and asked, "You will keep your oath?"


    "Of course."


    "I will not bow to the Iron Throne, but I can bow to you."


    "Why?"


    "Seeing you, I see the conqueror of a hundred years ago. Calm andposed, decisive and tolerant. I want to offer you my loyalty."


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed. He understood that Mors probably didn''t trust the Iron Throne and was joining him personally, not the institution. Rhaegar smiled and said, "Swear it."


    He knew that as the future king, the House Manwoody would remain a vassal of the Iron Throne. All of Dorne would eventually bow to him.


    Plop!


    Mors knelt on one knee, lowering the proud head of House Manwoody, and said solemnly, "I swear by the old and new gods to serve Rhaegar of House Targaryen, to honor him, and to fulfill his mission at all costs!"


    The oath was sacred and irrevocable, and Mors spoke it in one breath.


    Rhaegar''s expression remained impassive as he took the hilt of Truefyre and turned it towards Dicon. "Hold it. This sword."


    Despite his burned hands, Dickon obediently took the scabbard.


    Swish!


    Truefyre was unsheathed, its cold light shing.


    Rhaegar held Lysa in one arm and ced the sword on Mors'' shoulder with the other. "I swear by the old gods and the new that I ept your loyalty. You will be the cool breeze of summer and the oar of a far-reaching ship. You will honor your oath and never be stained by the filth of the world. You will always have a ce by my hearth, today and every day."


    Then he pressed the ck de against Mors'' shoulders.


    With a snap, Truefyre was sheathed.


    Mors took a deep breath, epting the fact that he was now a Targaryen vassal. He was scared but also excited. He stood up and bowed. "My Prince, Kingsgrave will fight for you. Please give your orders."


    Rhaegar nced back and said sternly, "Open the gates. Kingsgrave will serve as a staging post for the army."


    Mors gritted his teeth and said, "Yes, Prince!"


    He walked straight out and ordered the soldiers to open the gates of this dangerous city.


    Below the cliffs, the Reach forces had been waiting for a long time.

 Chapter 441: The Greenblood River Dyed Red

    Chapter 441: The Greenblood River Dyed Red


    Half a monthter.


    The Prince''s Pass, exit.


    "Whoa~~"


    Rhaegar rode a white-maned warhorse along the path. The red, open canyon, its corners blocking the view, resembled the mouth of a giant beast. The cliffs, hiding arrow towers, entuated the beast''s fanged mouth.


    "It''s a real pain being stuck here," Rhaegar mused, his deep eyes reflecting his flowing thoughts.


    Half a month ago, the Prince''s Pass was ced under full martialw. House Fowler, known as the "Warden of the Prince''s Pass," had retreated to Skyreach, digging in to defend their territory.


    Behind him, the sounds of hooves grew louder as several horses approached. Ormund, stretching his neck to look ahead, joked, "House Fowler is known as the eagle, and eagles like to hide in their nests when in danger."


    "Watch your words, Lord Ormund," Donald warned with a cold stare. Lady Jeyne of the Vale had bravely participated in the war, and many of her knights had died. She should not be made fun of.


    Donald then silently observed the prince''s expression. Rhaegar remained unaffected by the joke, his expression unchanged.


    Being able to hide is aldo a skill, just like House Hightower always ducking when disaster strikes, Rhaegar thought.


    After a while, Rhaegar asked with a sideways nce, "Lord Mors, what do you think of a heavily fortified Skyreach?"


    Mors, with his unruly ck curls and thin frame, looked like a nondescript monkey on a white horse. His small frame was always apanied by a shrewd gleam in his eyes. He had been doing well since Kingsgrave''s surrender half a month ago.


    When the heir prince asked, Mors hesitated a bit before telling the truth. "Skyreach is easy to defend, but difficult to attack. Ordinary soldiers cannot breach the city walls. With the help of the dragons firepower, the defenses will be exhausted and the city will fall after three to five months of siege."


    His answer was correct but short.


    Rhaegar nodded and then shook his head. "It takes too long. If it takes three months to take a city, Dorne is too far away to put down the rebellion."


    Mors quickly added, "With two dragons attacking in turn and soldiers attacking day and night, the city can be taken in a month."


    Rhaegar continued to shake his head. The dragons could withstand it, but the soldiers couldn''t. A victory achieved at the cost of human lives is a disastrous victory.


    Seeing that he was silent, the others also fell silent.


    "I have a n, but I need Lord Mors'' cooperation," Rhaegar suddenly spoke up.


    The three of them looked at him, and Mors'' heart skipped a beat.


    "What is the n?" Ormund couldn''t wait to know.


    Rhaegar nced onest time at the blocked exit, tightened the reins, turned the horse around, and said in a profound tone, "Let''s discuss it back at camp."


    "Yah!"


    The white-maned war horse, full of spirit, galloped away with a lithe posture.


    ...


    At noon, the sun was shining brightly.


    Rhaegar and the others rode into the camp. The army was stationed at the back half of The Prince''s Pass, with Nightsong and Kingsgrave serving as two transit stations to provide supplies to the front line in a stable and continuous manner.


    At this moment, 30,000 allied troops were stationed on a wide red road.


    "Roar..."


    As soon as the horses entered the camp, the sound of a dragon''s roar could be heard from afar. Dreamfyre glided back, the pale blue membrane of its wings blocking the sun and casting a cool shadow.


    The dragonnded, and a petite figure in a beige id skirt deftly climbed down.


    "Brother!"


    Hena smiled and trotted along, her long skirt fluttering. Rhaegar stepped forward to greet her, and the soft body of the young woman crashed into his arms like a cannonball. He smiled helplessly and said, "I told you to wear armor."


    "The armor is too cumbersome," Hena replied, standing on tiptoe and leaning in to whisper in Rhaegar''s ear, sharing her joy: "I''ve finished engraving all my Bronze runes. They''re much easier to use than armor."


    "Really?" Rhaegar was surprised. "That was fast."


    Hena nodded eagerly and whispered, "I feel it has something to do with Dreamfyre. It has grown a lot recently, and it''s veryfortable to be around it."


    Rhaegar looked at her in surprise, then buried his head in her neck and sniffed, joking, "Yes, I can smell the dragon stench mixed in."


    Hena: ...


    After a long pause, she said in a sullen tone, "I burned down the Vulture''s Roost."


    The EVulture''s Roost was a fortress built in the Red Mountains, an outpost that oversaw The Prince''s Pass. It was permanently manned by hundreds of soldiers and was very adept at mountain warfare.


    "Well done, very Visenya-like," Rhaegar smirked, pinching her cheek before leading Hena back to the tent for a meeting.


    Half a month had passed. Several refugees had been appeased, Kingsgrave City was obedient, and the Dorne fortresses at The Prince''s Pass were cleared one after another.


    The army pointed his sword at Skyreach, ready to attack the Dorne hintend in one fell swoop. Ormund and the others entered the tent together, and a discussion about Skyreach began.


    Rhaegar focused on Mors and specifically formted a n. Mors, torn between two options, eventually agreed with a heavy heart.


    ...


    A few dayster.


    The Prince''s Pass, Dorne


    A steep city stood proudly, flying the banner of a blue falcon with a hood on a silver background��Skyreach, the ancestral castle of House Fowler.


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, a thunderous dragon roar filled the air for miles, brimming with deep anger.


    The ck dragon hovered low in the sky, burning fortresses in its path and killing every Dornish person who dared to resist. "Run!"


    "Avoid the dragon, don''t stop!"


    Deep in the road, a disarrayed Dornish cavalry unit, now reduced to a dozen men, fled desperately. Chasing them were Rivends cavalry, their banners fluttering.


    The two sides, locked in pursuit, entered the dragon''s bombardment zone.


    Boom!


    Smoky green Dragonfire descended, melting fortress walls and incinerating fleeing men. It was a one-sided massacre. The Dornish scattered in all directions, wailing in terror.


    The faster Dornish cavalry charged straight for Skyreach, leading the scattered soldiers toward the safety of the city.


    "Roar!"


    The ck dragon, enraged, leapt over the fleeing soldiers and flew directly over Skyreach. Before the city��s guards could react, the dragon spewed Dragonfire, rendering their scorpion crossbows useless.


    The relentless Dragonfire melted the castle tower and city walls, twisting bricks and stones into deformed, ss-like shapes. Granaries and stables burned, destroying stored grain and horses. The ck dragon finally flew away, satisfied, as the sun set.


    The Reach''s cavalry captured the fortress at the exit of The Prince''s Pass, securing their defense line.


    In stark contrast, Skyreach was enveloped in smoke, resembling the aftermath of an apocalypse. The steep hillside city faced the newly captured fortress.


    At nightfall.


    The Red Mountains fell silent, the stars casting their light over the scene. Dornish soldiers, who had hidden in the ravine, cautiously slipped out under the cover of darkness.


    A cart descended from the top of Skyreach. Meanwhile, a ck dragon perched on a distant mountain, its scales blending perfectly with the night.


    Rhaegar''s purple eyes shed as he watched Mors and his son Duncan climb the walls, escorted by guards.


    "nt the seed and wait for it to sprout," Rhaegar whispered softly, patting the dragon''s back.


    Cannibal shook its massive body, spread its wings, and leapt into the night, disappearing into the darkness.


    ...


    Greenblood River, nky Town


    The once-thriving port was engulfed in mes, its gray-brown walls crumbling inrge sections. The city echoed with endless wailing, shrouded in deep mourning.


    "Prepare the catapults! Aim at the enemy ships!" The Sea Snake''s eyes were full of murderous intent as he shouted orders.


    Under the moonlight, the river was filled with three fleets of ships locked in a two-to-one attack. One side flew a reddish-brown fan-shaped golden hand, the other a ck panther with three heads on an orange background��House Allyrion of Divine Grace and House Vaith of Vance.


    House Allyrion, located at the intersection of the Vaith, Scourge, and Greenblood Rivers, and House Vaith, situated on the banks of the Vaith River, both noble families of Dorne, had docks. Hearing that the Sea Snake had attacked and captured nky Town, they quickly gathered their fleets tounch a counterattack.


    Roar...


    A golden dragon circled the night sky, spewing dragonfire from its fierce maw. The dragonfire ignited the sails and masts of both fleets, burning soldiers on deck and severely damaging the enemy''s morale.


    "Don''t let the Dornish scum escape! Tighten the circle of encirclement!" The Sea Snake''s dark face was solemn, his voice hoarse from shouting.


    The two small Dornish fleets were outmatched in both the quality of their ships and their soldiers. Under the personalmand of the Sea Snake, and with the main force of the House Vryon fleet bolstered by the Stepstones garrison, they were beaten back without being able to mount a significant defense. The presence of a dragon tipped the scales of victory from the start.


    The war raged on untilte at night. Gradually, dawn broke, revealing the devastation. The two Dornish fleets werepletely destroyed, their sailors either killed or thrown overboard to feed the fish. The sun rose, its warm light casting a bright sheen on the Greenblood River, now stained with an unremovable red.


    "Roar..."


    Aegon, riding Sunfyre, patrolled the river, assisting soldiers in cleaning up the battlefield and fishing for supplies. The Sea Snake sat on the deck, his eyes heavy, brows furrowed with fatigue.


    Since the burning of Lemonwood and the fleet''s crossing of the Greenblood River, Sunfyre had quickly taken over nky Town. For the past two weeks, the coastal nobles of Dorne had beenunching relentless attacks.


    The first fleet came from the city of Salt Shore, located on the southern coast of Dorne near the Summer Sea, and capable of supporting the Greenblood River by sea in a matter of days. It was a fierce battle, with both sides fighting day and night.


    In the end, Sunfyre''s power proved to be too much for them, burning through the opposing fleet''smand ship and allowing the Sea Snake to im victory.


    With the fleets of Divine Grace and Vaith destroyed, Dorne''s sea power in the hintend was shattered. The Sea Snake shook his head andughed, looking up at the rising sun, now casting light towards Sunspear.


    nky Towny close to Sunspear, reachable by foot in a day.


    "Qoren, I really want to see your face right now," the Sea Snake thought, his eyes shing with anticipation.


    upying the Greenblood River had effectively cut off Dorne from the east and west, leaving Sunspear isted. The next step was for the armies of the heir prince and the king to break through the Red Mountains and enter the heart of Dorne.


    With Dorne''s defenses breached, the Sea Snake could then press into the interior and surround Sunspear from all sides.


    He took a slow, measured breath and called his deputy, instructing, "Write to The Prince''s Pass and Boneway, urging the army to advance."

 Chapter 442: The Goal is Sunspear

    Chapter 442: The Goal is Sunspear


    Time flies, and several days have passed.


    Skyreach


    Ten thousand allied troops from The Reach were arrayed on the slopes of Dorne, their eyes fixed greedily on the siege weapons. After many days of preparation, they were finally poised to attack this formidable city.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal roared, its enormous body blocking out the sun and casting a shadow over the army as it rushed towards Skyreach.


    Rhaegar''s face was as cold as ice. As the dragon glided over the troops, he shouted, "The city is about to fall. Attack!"


    "Charge!"


    "Prepare the catapults to cover the army!"


    Shield-bearers rushed forward, protecting the spearmen and archers behind them.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre snorted loudly, spreading its massive wings like the blue sky, and approached Skyreach from another direction.


    Boom!


    Two dragons circled above the city, spewing Dragonfire at will. The defenders on the city walls suffered severe blows, their morale instantly shattered.


    On the city walls, Lord Fowler personallymanded, shouting in anger, "Set up the scorpion crossbows and shoot the dragons down!"


    Click, click...


    Several heavy scorpion crossbows rotated, aiming at the dragons in the sky.


    Whoosh!


    The steel spear wasunched, but it missed the dragon by a long shot.


    "Cannibal, kill him!" Rhaegar sneered, riding his dragon down.


    The Cannibal''s green eyes red, and a mouthful of Dragonfire engulfed dozens of soldiers manning the scorpion crossbow.


    "Seven levels of hell!" Lord Fowler cursed, feeling dizzy as he faced the dragon, considering retreat.


    He thought of how his ancestors had dealt with Targaryen invaders��abandon the city and retreat into the desert.


    He probably shouldn''t have defended the city. It was a huge mistake.


    Unfortunately, it was toote.


    Boom!


    The closed city gates opened quietly, weing the Reach forces climbing the hill.


    Mors, pale and missing an arm, blood soaking his armor, stood near the gates. Dickon trembled beside him, clutching a sword, surrounded by seven or eight personal guards.


    "Attack!" Rhaegar roared, riding Cannibal across the battlements, forcing the defending soldiers to retreat.


    "Roar..." Dreamfyre snorted and quickly descended into the city gate, sweeping the supporting soldiers away with a single breath of Dragonfire.


    "Stop them," Hena crouched on the dragon''s back and spoke in High Valyrian.


    Dreamfyre was fearless. Its pale blue wings were like two giant scythes, and its long, thick tail cleared a path through the defenders. The dragon''s well-proportioned body transformed into a ruthless war machine, spewing intense light blue Dragonfire wherever it encountered resistance.


    The dragon and its rider moved in perfect harmony, giving the Reach''s army time to break through the city gates.


    "Long live the Princess!"


    "For the Iron Throne..."


    Seeing this, the soldiers'' eyes lit up with determination, and they rushed into the city. Fighting for the Targaryens felt like a sure victory.


    On the city walls


    Seeing the city gates being breached, Lord Fowler was filled with anger and fear. He still had a lot to do; the 3,000 soldiers and 2,000 mercenaries in the city had not yet yed their part.


    "Who opened the gates?" Lord Fowler muttered, then suddenly realized. "Damn Manwoody, how dare he openly rebel!"


    The tide had turned, and his heart was filled with grief. "Traitor! I curse you..."


    "Roar!"


    Halfway through his sentence, a green me of Dragonfire fell from the sky andnded squarely on his head. A crackling sound followed, and smoke billowed from his burning brain.


    Rhaegar nced at him with contempt. "What a lot of nonsense."


    With the Lord dead, morale plummeted. The two dragons suppressed the defenders'' firepower, and 10,000 troops entered the city.


    At this point, Skyreach officially fell.


    ...


    After a period of chaos, the battle ended before the sun set.


    Skyreach changed hands, and a new regime was implemented. Members of House Fowler were ced under house arrest, detained in the castle attic. Most of the 3,000 soldiers and 2,000 mercenaries who had defended the city surrendered after the battle.


    Approximately 1,600 Dornish soldiers were divided into small groups and imprisoned separately. The mercenaries, however, were all beheaded, their heads impaled on spears and disyed on the castle walls.


    Before nightfall, Rhaegar sat on the back of his dragon, the imposing figure of man and beast standing before Castle ck. Hena followed suit, riding Dreamfyre to the castle gates. The two dragons faced each other across the air, with over a thousand Dornish civilians gathered in between. These were the subjects of House Fowler, who had retreated to the city at the start of the war.


    Rhaegar surveyed the scene and made a perfunctory deration, "House Martell started this war on his own, betraying the precious peace. But I know that you are just a group of poor, innocent people. The Targaryens will not harm you. I hope you will live well and not get caught up in the war''s meat grinder."


    Afterwards, he gave a signal to Donald, who stood beside him. Donald understood and brought forward several Dornish officers, ensuring that the prisoners would not be killed and would be imprisoned until the end of the war.


    The sincerity of this assurance was questionable, but it reassured the civilians significantly. Many of these soldiers were the sons and daughters ofmoners, who naturally did not want the Iron Throne to execute the prisoners. Upon receiving the assurance, they immediately put aside their rebellious thoughts.


    This was exactly the effect Rhaegar wanted. He didn''t need the civilians to pledge their loyalty, but at least he wanted them to avoid causing trouble in the short term. There would be plenty of time to address their allegianceter.


    ...


    Inside the castle, in the hall of the cliffs.


    After the victory, a meeting was held.


    A sand table of Dorne was set up on the table, and Rhaegar pointed to Hellholt in the heart of Dorne.


    "Hellholt is the seat of House Uller, located along the Brimstone River, surrounded by a barren desert with no natural defenses," he began. "To take Hellholt, you just have to break through its sturdy walls."


    Hena listened carefully and spoke carefully, "The walls of Hellholt are very strong, and there is Sandstone and Vaith on both sides. If a long war breaks out, our army will not be able to move an inch."


    Hellholt may not appear to have any natural defenses, but the surrounding desert serves as a formidable barrier. Any army attempting to breach the city would face a difficult march across the vast desert, not to mention the long supply line from The Reach to Hellholt. An enemy army hidden in the desert could intercept supplies and deal a devastating blow.


    Rhaegar nodded, looked at everyone present, and changed the subject: "I received news from Lord Corlys yesterday. He has already taken nky Town and is waiting for the main army to join him."


    Dong! Dong!


    He tapped his fingers on the sand table and solemnly dered, "Skyreach and Hellholt are a reasonable distance apart. I have decided to take all the cavalry and bring enough food for ten days. We will head south immediately to attack the city!"


    "Ten days!?" Ormund was stunned and said in surprise, "Even the fastest cavalry would take seven days to travel between the two castles, and that''s if they don''t get lost or caught in a sandstorm. After all the calctions, there are less than three days left for the siege. Which castle can be taken in three days?"


    "Lord Ormund, three days is enough," Rhaegar interrupted, displeased. "Don''t forget how the people of Dorne resisted the Targaryen attack during the First War of Dorne."


    They abandoned their cities and fled into the desert, waging guerri warfare and assassinating nobles. They employed all kinds of nasty tactics. The fact that Kingsgrave and Skyreach did not abandon their cities can only mean that Qoren Martell gave them a direct order to resist, hoping to gain additional support from beyond the Narrow Sea.


    "The Ullers of Hellholt have always been known as madmen, and their strength is no less than that of the Fowlers of Skyreach. They will not fight the Targaryen dragons head on. Most likely they will imitate their ancestors and leave the old, weak, sick, and disabled in the city to surrender while the soldiers hide in the desert to attack by surprise."


    Rhaegar''s n was to take the castle quickly and use a dragon to control the area from the Prince''s Pass to Hellholt.


    Ormund frowned and said, "Since it''s an empty castle, it''s useless for us to take it. An empty town is not easy to defend. The people in the city could be spies, and there could be rat holes in every corner. If we''re not careful, the supply line will be cut off and the army in the city will starve."


    Rhaegar nodded slightly and said thoughtfully, "Hellholt is the main city in western Dorne. Controlling it will maximize the effect of containing Dorne''s forces."


    The Sea Snake had captured the Greenblood River, cutting off the connection between the east and west of Dorne. He sent an army to draw fire and hold back resistance in the west.


    "What do you mean?" Ormund asked, his expression puzzled but thoughtful.


    Rhaegar''s finger traced the Boneway and then Sunspear on the map. He said directly, "We will open up The Prince''s Pass and the Boneway, upy Skyreach and Yronwood as bases, and march directly to Sunspear."


    If the Dornish can abandon their castles, the Targaryens can abandon their hunt for the Dornishmen. They would control the Red Mountains, attack Sunspear, and strike at the heart of House Martell. Even if Qoren fled, he would be no more than a rat scurrying across the yellow sand. Let him eat sand with his disloyal bannermen.


    The Iron Throne, on the other hand, would block the Prince''s Pass and the Boneway. The Reach could support supply lines on both sides. Regr clearing of the Dornish lurking in the Red Mountains would keep those routes safe. It would take some effort, but within a few years the Red Mountains would be fully under the jurisdiction of the Iron Throne.


    "Sunspear and nky Town are equally important," Rhaegar continued. "Both are coastal towns, eliminating the dangerousnd supply lines and allowing us to transport food by sea. Once Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh are under control, thebined dominance of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea will be secured."


    At that point, Dorne would be cut off from the Red Mountains bynd and from the Summer Sea by sea. Add to this the Iron Throne''s army and dragons burning and harassing, destroying wells and farnd. Within two years, the people of Dorne would be starving.


    Without much effort, Dorne will copse.


    ...


    The next day.


    Boneway, Wyl


    "Roar!" Vermithor soared above the city, spewing dragonfire at the towers.


    But the castley silent and deserted. The empty streets echoed with the absence of life.


    Viserys frowned as he looked down at the empty city. The Dornish had abandoned their castle once again, avoiding a direct confrontation with the dragon.


    "Wyl, what a disgusting name," Viserys muttered, unable to suppress his disgust.


    Tunnels had been dug under Wyl, connecting caves to strengthen defenses.


    House Wyl had used this trick during the First War of Dorne to evade the conquerors and Balerion. In 12AC, Lord Wyl of Wyl, head of the house, had arrived uninvited at the wedding of Alys Oakheart, daughter of Lord Oakheart. He had killed Lord Oakheart and most of the guests, forcing the bride Alys to watch as her husband was castrated. Alys and her maid were then raped and sold to the ve traders of Myr.


    "The shameless Wyls!" Viserys spat, rubbing the bronze scales under his saddle. He gave the order, "Vermithor, let''s go."


    Wyl was already deserted, and Yronwood at the Boneway exit was likely the same. Viserys had received a letter from Corlys, the Sea Snake, emphasizing the importance of attacking Sunspear. Since Wyl and Yronwood were not resisting, the ckhaven army could pass through Boneway without trouble.


    He needed to write to his eldest son andy out a general n.


    "Roar!" Vermithor pped his wings and flew away from the intricate terrain of Wyl, heading toward their next objective.

 Chapter 443: Meraxes’ Scales

    Chapter 443: Meraxes�� Scales


    Dorne, the Southwestern Desert


    The wind and sand danced wildly, the scorching sun baked the earth, and the air seemed to sizzle with the souls of the damned.


    At the end of the desert flowed a long, winding river. The river was covered with duckweed, its surface murky and green. Whenever the wind blew, the stench of burning spread for miles.


    This river, called Brimstone, was one of the main waterways connecting the interior of Dorne to the Summer Sea. On its banks stood a tall, dark castle: Hellholt.


    "Roar!"


    The dragon''s loud roar echoed halfway down the Brimstone, and a dark reflection appeared in the yellow sand, like a slowly moving mountain. The wind blew and the gravel made a dull thundering sound.


    Cannibal revealed its true form. The green pupils of its eyes shone dangerously, and its fangs unconsciously emitted Dragonfire. Its huge body was enveloped in the yellow sand-covered road.


    Suddenly, there was a loud neighing of horses. A cavalry of 5,000 men galloped at full speed under the wide, dark wings. Each soldier half-closed his eyes to prevent the sand from getting into his eyelids, and his face was tanned and rough.


    "Hellholt!"


    Ormund rode at the front of the group, his head protected by a scarf instead of a helmet. He shouted with joy, "Hellholt is just ahead! We''ve arrived!"


    "Lord, be careful of traps!" his guards, wearing the Hightower emblem, hurriedly protected him.


    Ormund''s joy turned to sadness, and tears almost came to his eyes. He immediately began toin, "We''ve been on the run for seven days, day and night, and my butt is almost worn out."


    After settling the tens of thousands of refugees at The Prince''s Pass, they had participated in the great victory of breaking through Skyreach. Finally entering the heart of Dorne, the heir prince had intensified the war. Donald led 15,000 troops to Yronwood at the end of the Boneway, while Ormund was forced to lead 5,000 cavalry to the remote Hellholt.


    As he thought, Ormund reached into his pants and rubbed his crotch, his eyes red. "I don''t even have a son. This is just a joke."


    The guards looked at him strangely but dared not speak. Ormund wiped his eye and scolded, "There''s sand in my eye. Keep it covered up. Don''t let the wind and sand blow into my eyes."


    "Yes, my Lord."


    The guards bowed their heads, ustomed to the Lord''s arrogance.


    "Roar..."


    A piercing roar echoed ahead as a pale blue dragon silhouette burst through the yellow sand, like a mirage in the desert. The soldiers looked up, understanding the warning in the dragon''s cry.


    Rhaegar, perched on the dragon''s back, raised his eyes warily and said, "Cannibal, there is no need to lead the way anymore."


    He spoke in High Valyrian, his words faint but clear, reaching the dragon''s mind.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal, no longer needing to control its speed, roared and pped its wings, quickly soaring into the wind.


    One kilometer outside Hellholt''s city gates, a gruesome sight blocked the only way into the city.


    The "mountain" wasn''t made of stone or mud. It was a grotesque pile of hastily skinned sheep and cattle bodies. The flesh, deteriorated and solidified, had turned a ckish-red, striking fear into the hearts of those who saw it. From a distance of over a hundred meters, a terrifying swarm of flies buzzed, covering the mountain and making itpletely air-tight.


    Hoo-hoo!


    Cannibal slowly descended, stirring up a gust of wind as itnded, rming hundreds of thousands of flies that erupted in a buzzing frenzy. Rhaegar''s brow furrowed, enduring the psychological difort of the sight.


    Dreamfyrended on the other side, carrying Hena in a light dress. She gazed at the spectacle, her eyes shing with curiosity. She said with a carefree expression, "The House Uller has fled. Are we still going into the city?"


    She seemed unfazed by the "disgusting" sight, disying more courage than the battle-hardened Rhaegar.


    "You really don''t mind being disgusted," Rhaegar said, recalling Hena''s former hobby of ying with insects. "We must enter the city and not be deterred by House Uller''s intimidation."


    A pile of rotten meat with a dead animal''s body on top didn''t scare him.


    Hena nodded and said with concern, "All the livestock taken into the city is here, and our army has no supplies."


    During the First Dorne War, the madness of the Dornish people hade to the fore. They abandoned their cities, leaving nothing behind that they couldn''t take with them. They burned grain to ash, ughtered cattle and sheep and left them to rot, and poisoned wells. Such insane acts were frequent.


    Aware of the army''s food and drink issues, Rhaegar was prepared. "The Brimstone River connects to the Summer Sea, and I have already ordered Ormund to inform Oldtown to transport food."


    The fleet of cargo ships from Oldtown travels the Summer Sea year-round, trading with the world. With Ormund stationed at Hellholt, Rhaegar wasn''t worried about Hightower''s willingness to supply.


    "Let''s go. We''ll wait for the army to enter the city."


    Seeing that Hena had dispelled her doubts, Rhaegar patted the ck dragon''s back.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal spat a mouthful of Dragonfire onto the carnage, pped its wings, and flew away. Hena also patted Dreamfyre, and they soared towards Hellholt.


    When the cavalry arrived, they saw a green volcano in the distance. The dark green Dragonfire was highly adhesive and persistent,parable to wildfire. In the barren desert, the green fire burned for seven days and seven nights, until it had consumed thest bone of the sheep and cattle.


    ...


    Hellholt


    The banner of House Uller, "a me of alternating yellow and crimson," was taken down and reced with the three-headed red dragon of House Targaryen. The army from The Reach arrived, taking over the defense of the four city walls.


    Throughout the process, the people of Dorne in the city watched intently, not making a sound. Rhaegar noticed that, just as expected, there were no strong and healthy Dornish men in this great city. The people standing in the streets and alleys were all women, children, the elderly, the weak, or disabled men.


    Ormund approached with a smirk, "It seems House Uller will not let this go."


    As everyone knew, this family had a unique reputation. Half of them were mad, and the other half were even worse.


    Rhaegar, unmoved, gave him a sideways nce and spoke sharply, "Hena and I will be leaving soon, so you''ll have to defend the city."


    "Huh?" Ormund was shocked, pointing at his own broad nose.


    Rhaegar simply ignored him.


    "Yes, that''s right," Hena said, giving a look of understanding and patting her uncle''s hand.


    As Ormund''s heart sank, the siblings walked away hand in hand, heading towards the tower of House Uller.


    ...


    Along the way, many Dornish women and children secretly watched, their expressions a mix of cowardice and hidden resentment. War had brought disaster. There was no food, no livestock, and their fathers, husbands, and sons had been forcibly conscripted.


    "This is the cruelty of war," Rhaegar epted it calmly, even considering if he should massacre the city. He had seen more hateful stares. In such situations, talking about benefits was useless. Just kill them all, he thought.


    Hena walked beside him, her head slumped and looking distracted. Rhaegar noticed and wanted tofort her, but the little girl suddenly looked up, her eyes clear and unclouded. "Beware of the beast under the floor!" she said.


    "Hena?" Rhaegar was stunned for a moment, reaching out to touch her head. Hena sidestepped and quickly walked in one direction with her head down.


    The siblings had entered the tower area. Rhaegar looked around warily, sending more soldiers to search the tower and keeping up with Hena. The little girl bypassed the dark tower, leading them to a bare estate behind the castle. She walked confidently along the cobblestone path, finding a deep dungeon under a windmill tower.


    The dungeon was five meters deep underground, with a few oilmps hanging from the walls, covered in condensation. "Water droplets?" Rhaegar muttered, keeping an eye on Hena''s movements.


    The water was cool and faintly smelled of burning. He had smelled this many times before; even the musty dungeon couldn''t hide it. Rhaegar realized, "The dungeon is connected to the Brimstone River, and the walls are damp and watery."


    "Brother, I found it," Hena suddenly interrupted his thoughts.


    "What did you find?"


    "I don''t know. I just came here in a daze."


    Hena stood in the interrogation room of the dungeon, surrounded by darkness, with only a dim oilmp hanging overhead. Rhaegar stepped forward, stroking her long, curly hair, feeling both pain and relief. The little girl had talents simr to his, including the side effect of feeling empathy for each other.


    Hena''s eyes sparkled as she enjoyed her brother''s caress. She pointed to a corner of the room and said, "There seems to be something there."


    "I''ll go and take a look." Rhaegar waved his hand, and a ball of fire ignited, lighting up the gloomy dungeon.


    In the corner, two items stood out.


    A battered, decrepit woman��s armor, badly damaged with only the breastte and half of the skirt remaining. The breastte, made of ck steel, was painted a mboyant red with a pattern of scales.


    "Targaryen armor," Rhaegar''s eyes widened.


    He had seen simr armor before. The armor worn by his aunt Rhaenys was of this type,bining the red of the Targaryens and the scales of dragons to create practical protective gear. This design originated from the sisters of Aegon the Conqueror, Queen Visenya and Queen Rhaenys.


    As he pondered the origin of the armor, Rhaegar felt a shock like a hammer blow and immediately turned his head to look at another object.


    In the moss-covered, dark and dim corner of the wally a silver-white humanoid object on its side.


    "Brother!" Hena��s eyes widened in surprise.


    "Yes, I see it," Rhaegar replied calmly, his eyes fixed on the object.


    It wasn��t a corpse or anything grotesque. It was a loose armor made of silver-white dragon scales. Each scale was half the size of a palm, with holes punched in them and twine used to string them together, forming a suit of armor.


    Rhaegar''s mind raced as he stepped forward to touch the silver-white scales and the red remains.


    "This exploration mission is now open. The target is the scales of Meraxes," a system prompt sounded abruptly, unexpected yet familiar.


    The system panel automatically appeared.


    Meraxes'' Scales


    Exploration progress: 0.5%


    Rhaegar closed the panel, silently fumbling with the two pieces of armor, his expression dark and uncertain.


    Hena watched from behind, sensing her brother��sbored breath. It was as if a volcano that had been dormant for many years was now releasing hatred and anger.

 Chapter 444: The Fall of Qoren (2)

    Chapter 444: The Fall of Qoren (2)


    "Brother~"


    Hena called softly, trying to pull Rhaegar out of his negative state. Unlike her brother, who was consumed by rage, she still retained her full sense of reason. Maybe it was because she was emotionally detached, or maybe she only cared about the people she wanted to care for. She didn''t want to disturb her own mind.


    "Rhaenys..." Rhaegar murmured, his handsome face illuminated by the firelight, his expression twisted in the shadows.


    Meraxes'' dragon scales. A Targaryen woman''s armor found in Hellholt. Which Targaryen warrior woman would have been at Hellholt and left behind her broken armor? The signs were almost explicit.


    Rhaegar stood up abruptly, his eyes shing with cold, restrained rage: "House Uller, that damned name!"


    "Brother, calm down," Hena stepped forward, gently persuading him.


    "Stand back!" Rhaegar turned around and shouted, his anger reaching the heavens.


    Hena was startled and obediently stepped back, giving him space to vent his fury.


    "Uller! You insolent bastards!" Rhaegar was so furious that he unsheathed Truefyre from his waist and swung it, shing at the two pieces of armor.


    At that moment, he didn''t care about the relics. He wanted to cut everything in front of him to pieces, burn it to ashes, and vent his anger.


    During the first war in Dorne, Queen Rhaenys led Meraxes to attack Hellholt. The scorpion crossbow on the castle wall identally hit the dragon''s eye. Meraxes fell to the ground in agony and died on the spot. This was the first and only time the people of Dorne killed a dragon.


    But Queen Rhaenys, who was on Meraxes'' back, disappeared without a trace, and no one saw her remains. Not even a charred corpse, just a pool of what looked like meat paste. Some imed that Queen Rhaenys did not die but was seriously injured in the fall and tortured in the dungeons of Hellholt. This theory had never been proven, and no one believed it. After all, Meraxes was killed by the fall, and it seemed unlikely that Rhaenys, the dragon''s rider, would have survived.


    The year was 13 AC. Princess Meria of Dorne, nicknamed "the Yellow Toadof Dorne," died. Her heir, Prince Nymor Martell, tired of war, sent his daughter, Princess Deria Martell, on a mission to King''s Landing to negotiate peace. During the negotiations, she brought the skull of Meraxes as a gift to the king.


    After some unpleasant negotiations, the peace talks were nearing an end. The Iron Throne''s subjects cried out, "No peace without surrender," while Dorne insisted on being on equal footing with the Iron Throne. Conqueror Aegon was equally angry and dismissed Deria Martell''s proposal. However, a letter changed his mind.


    The conqueror opened the envelope in public and read the letter silently. After reading it, the usually calm conqueror showed signs of confusion and lost hisposure. No one knew what the letter said. The people there talked about it.


    After reading the letter, the conqueror clenched his hand around the envelope, his fingernails piercing his palm and drawing blood.


    In the end, the Conqueror agreed to Dorne''s terms of peace.


    That night, the Conqueror was seen riding Balerion back to Dragonstone, returning before dawn. No one knew what he did on Dragonstone that night.


    Two main rumors spread throughout King''s Landing in the face of this sudden turn of events:


    One: It was a threat. If the peace treaty was not signed, Dorne would hire the Faceless Men to assassinate the Conqueror''s heir, and he would be forced to agree.


    Two: Queen Rhaenys was not dead, but imprisoned and suffering in Hellhold. If the terms of the peace treaty were agreed upon, Dorne would end her suffering and return her remains.


    Rumors are rumors, and no one can prove them.


    Now, looking at the scales of Meraxes and the remnants of Rhaenys'' armor, Rhaegar felt the weight of history''s shamefulpromise.


    Queen Rhaenys was not dead! Her armor is still in Hellholt, where House Uller has imprisoned her.


    Bang! Rhaegar swung his sword wildly, cursing non-stop. The silver-white scales of the armor were chopped to pieces, and the female armor was split into grooves. He stared at the two pieces of armor, his heart filled with indescribable anger.


    For over a hundred years, House Uller kept Queen Rhaenys'' armor, even using Meraxes'' scales to make it. They hid it, afraid to let it out, and now it was thrown away like trash in a stinking dungeon torture room.


    Rhaegar saw it all as a vulgar, despicable, and ugly provocation that left no room forpromise!


    "House Uller!" Rhaegar''s face contorted in a hideous grimace, his chest heaving as he shouted, "I will kill you all! I will break the neck of thest Uller and wipe that name from the face of the earth!"


    He was a Targaryen and heir to the Iron Throne. But more than these two identities, he also had the blood of Queen Rhaenys flowing through his veins. Rhaenys was his great-great-great-grandmother! Every Targaryen alive today is a descendant of hers and the Conqueror.


    After venting his anger until his body stopped trembling with anger, Rhaegar rested his hands on Truefyre and gasped for breath. In the dark corner, the two pieces of armor, already in a bad state, were in a terrible state.


    Rhaegar''s eyes went nk, and he muttered, "Mercy doesn''t work on everyone. Then wait for the wrath of the sleeping dragon."


    Even in the face of the Sealord of Braavos'' ugly face and the sinister intentions of the Triarchy to detain Morghul, he remained rational. But House Uller''s casual discarding of the two pieces of armor deeply irritated Rhaegar''s nerves.


    After venting his anger until his body stopped trembling with anger, Rhaegar rested his hands on Truefyre and gasped for breath. In the dark corner, the two pieces of armor, already in a bad state, were in a terrible state.


    Rhaegar''s eyes went nk, and he muttered, "Mercy doesn''t work on everyone. Then wait for the wrath of the sleeping dragon."


    Even in the face of the Sealord of Braavos'' ugly face and the sinister intentions of the Triarchy to detain Morghul, he remained rational. But House Uller''s casual discarding of the two pieces of armor deeply irritated Rhaegar''s nerves.


    Rhaegar''s anger burned in his heart, and he felt his mouth go dry. Suddenly, a warm embrace came from behind, and the lotus-like arms under the white gauze firmly locked his waist.


    Rhaegar was momentarily dazed.


    The firm softness pressed against his back, and a gentle voice calmly persuaded him, "Don''t let anger cloud your mind. You are the true dragon; they are the reptiles."


    "Hena," Rhaegar whispered, rxing his tense body. The voice behind him was young and innocent, with a hint of worry and hoarseness, like a lotus flower in the mud.


    Rhaegar sniffed, detecting a refreshing fragrance. "What are you smelling?"


    Hena blinked, reaching into her brother''s ck robe, and whispered, "I''ve changed my perfume. It covers the dragon smell."


    Rhaegar: ...


    Her interruption was perfectly timed. The little girl was still holding a grudge, patiently waiting for her chance to get her revenge.


    "Don''t be angry. The more anger you show, the more Uller will enjoy it," Hena gentlyforted him.


    Rhaegar turned around to look at the familiar, pretty face. Her eyes were clear, and her face was lovely. If those little hands hadn''t sneaked into his clothes, poking and pinching, he would have thought that the Mother Above of the Seven Gods had appeared.


    "Get your hands out of there," Rhaegar said, bbergasted.


    "Oh~" Hena looked innocent, taking advantage of the chaos to scratch her lower abdomen before withdrawing her small, white hands.


    Rhaegar rolled his eyes and picked up the scattered female armor and silver-white dragon scales. When his palm touched a dragon scale, the system panel appeared.


    [Scales of Meraxes]


    Exploration Progress: 0.8% (Ongoing)


    Rhaegar put away the armor and dragon scales, keeping only one in his hand to maintain the exploration progress. He muttered to himself, "I hope to discover an offensive relic so I can use it to kill the Ullers with my own hands."


    In his eyes, the surname Uller was now on the list of The Stranger.


    Rhaegar looked at the thoughtful Hena and sighed, "Come with me. Help Ormund take care of Hellholt, and we''ll leave."


    "Sunspear?" Hena asked in doubt.


    "Yes," Rhaegar said, his eyes shing. "If we can''t find Uller, we''ll burn Sunspear to the ground."


    Someone had to pay the price with blood and fire.


    "Let''s go."


    "Okay."


    ...


    Sunspear, the Old Pce.


    The pce is magnificent, with its Spear Tower, Sun Tower, and many other luxurious halls.


    The Prince''s study.


    Qoren sat slumped over his desk, his expression unusually solemn as he constantly flipped through books detailing the First War of Dorne.


    Thetest news was dire.


    Skyreach had fallen, and the armies of The Reach had entered the heart of Dorne.


    Wyl and Yronwood in the Boneway were abandoned, with the two lords leading their soldiers into hiding to prepare for an ambush.


    Lord Uller of Hellholt disobeyed orders and, without waiting for thebined forces of ckmont and Starfall, headed into the desert toward Yronwood.


    Unable to support him, the ckmont and Starfall fleets changed course in The Summer Sea, attempting to break through the defenses of The Arbor and raid The Reach from Oldtown.


    The war had officially begun, and all of Dorne was in chaos.


    Qoren''s ns were thwarted one after another, and the vassals abandoned their rescue of Sunspear, each with their own agendas.


    Yes, the capital of Sunspear was forgotten by the Dorne nobles.


    The centuries-old hatred had erupted, and the Dorne nobles didn''t care about the consequences. They just wanted to fight the Iron Throne to the death.


    They hoped that the lords would join them and recreate the glory of Dorne''s resistance against the Iron Throne''s invasion.


    "Bastards, a bunch of brainless idiots," Qoren muttered, his face alternating between white and red as he cursed them.


    The truth of what the Conqueror and Dorne had discussed was unknown, but as a Prince, he had some understanding.


    Times had changed.


    The Targaryens were at the height of their power, with six dragons alone on the battlefield.


    The King rode the Bronze Fury, and the Prince rode the Deathwing, both of which were as powerful as the adult dragons of old.


    Dorne would be better off with the help of Braavos and other forces beyond the Narrow Sea.


    Now that Braavos was sitting idly by, what could Dorne do on its own?


    Qoren felt a lump in his chest and couldn''t help but think of the Triarchy, which had been the first to dere war.


    He and the Sealord of Braavos shared the same attitude: to use the Triarchy to undermine the Iron Throne and then take advantage of the situation.


    Unfortunately, the Targaryens had too many dragons, and they were sitting in the three Free Cities, giving him no chance.


    When Dragonfire reached Dorne, he finally understood the powerlessness of the Triarchy.


    He regretted not supporting them wholeheartedly.


    Qoren mmed the book shut and sneered, "Braavos is sitting on its hands. If Dorne really falls, can you stop the dragons?"


    He threw the book aside and called out to Davos Dayne, who was outside the study.


    Crack!


    The door opened from the outside, and Davos entered with his giant sword, Dawn.


    "What is yourmand, my prince?"


    "Inform the army in Sunspear to abandon all defenses and leave the city after dark."


    Davos paused for a moment, then said solemnly, "We should follow our experience and sneak into the desert for a protracted battle."


    This strategy appealed to the radicals but was little more than a desperate attempt.


    For the conservatives, it was undoubtedly a preparation for a return to the Iron Throne once peace was restored.


    Qoren jumped off the table with agility, his eyebrows and eyes bursting with defiance, and said solemnly, "Whatever, the army will depart by detour. Let''s go to Yronwood."


    "What about the Princess and the others?" Davos asked.


    The prince had three children. In addition to his eldest daughter, Princess Aliandra, he also had a son and a younger daughter.


    Qoren looked deep in thought and gritted his teeth: "Aliandra will travel with the army, Qyle will be sent to Braavos, and Coryanne will be sent to Vntis."


    The eldest daughter was the heir and must stay in Dorne to rule. This was her mission.


    The son and younger daughter would be sent to the Narrow Sea to preserve the Martell bloodline.


    "Yes, Prince," Davos nodded and left quickly.


    He was in a hurry.


    Because he realized that the situation in Dorne was dire and that the Prince was going to make a desperate attempt.

 Chapter 445: Dragonfire Burns Sunspear

    Chapter 445: Dragonfire Burns Sunspear


    In the corridors of the old pce, Davos hurriedly searches for the prince''s heir.


    Meanwhile, inside the pce, there is a chaotic flurry of activity. Servants hastily pack belongings while soldiers prepare to abandon the city.


    Davos walks through the Sun Tower and then heads to the Water Gardens outside the city.


    As night falls, the atmosphere grows tenser.


    Sunspear, East Coast.


    This coastal town, surrounded by the sea on three sides, transitions from a brief desert section to sandy beaches lined with reefs.


    The moon shines brightly, with few stars in the sky, and dark clouds drift by.


    Davos walks on the beach, holding a two- or three-year-old girl in his arms and guiding a five- or six-year-old boy by the hand.


    The children are wrapped in silk, their faces tense and anxious.


    "Lord Davos, does Father really have to send us away?" Qyle Martell asks timidly.


    Davos''s expression softens as he replies, "Don''t be afraid. Dorne will win this war sooner orter, and you will return."


    "Why are we fighting?" Qyle''s eyes fill with tears, his young voice quavering.


    Lacking the precociousness of his sister Aliandra, he instinctively hates the war that has shattered their peace.


    Davos pauses, looks up at the crescent moon, and sighs helplessly: "This is a difficult question. There is a war every second of every day in the world. The difference is the number of people involved."


    He recalls a story his grandmother once told him.


    A farmer lost a mule and noticed that his neighbor had an extra one, leading to a fight between them.


    The fight drew the entire vige, with people taking sides.


    In the chaos, someone got injured, and the injured person''s rtives from a neighboring vige got involved, causing a war between the two viges.


    The war disrupted the harvest, affecting the taxes collected by the Lord.


    Unable to collect taxes, the Lord went to war with other Lords for gold.


    Eventually, the war spread like a gue, affecting every inch of the continent.


    In the end, war is about plunder and capital.


    The Iron Throne is strong, and Dorne will be beaten.


    The stronger Dorne bes, the more the Iron Throne''s position will be threatened.


    The two sides are on the same continent, making war inevitable.


    Qyle half-understands, his ck eyes flowing with tears as he is consumed by the sadness of separation.


    Ssh!


    The evening wind churned the waves, sending them crashing violently onto the beach.


    Outside the reef, a small boat bobbed like a child adrift, far from home.


    "Children, it''s time to go."


    Davos removed his white cloak and, without further ado, carried the two children to the boat.


    In the darkness of the night, tworger cargo ships floated on the sea, waiting to receive their precious "cargo."


    Davos sat in the small boat and paddled towards one of the cargo ships.


    Soon, the boat bumped against the hull of the ship.


    "Mate, I''ll throw you a rope. You bring the kids up."


    A bearded man stood on the deck, speaking in Valyrian, and threw down a thick rope.


    Davos nced at the sail, seeing the emblem of a cold tiger''s head.


    Confirming it was the connecting ship, Davos held Coryanne in his arms and Qyle on his back.


    Bang!


    Leaping nimbly into the boat, Davos untied the silk around Coryanne''s chest and reminded the man, "Take care of the little princess. The prince will be very grateful to Triarch Tesrio."


    "Of course, the Triarch is the most hospitable person."


    The bearded man smiled broadly and reached out to take the child.


    "Good, I''ll take Prince Qyle with me."


    "Don''t worry, the boat ising."


    "What?"


    Davos was taken aback and turned around in surprise.


    Suddenly, a dagger plunged into the back of his head, the tip piercing through to his jaw.


    "Sorry."


    "<i>Vr morghulis<b> (</b></i>All men must die)."


    The bearded man''s tone changed, and he tore off a piece of his face, revealing a foreign visage.


    Brown curly hair, weathered by the wind and the years, framed a face with a smile that never left his lips.


    "Ah!"


    The attack was swift. Blood sprayed onto the two children, causing them to scream.


    Coryanne, held in the killer''s arms, screamed until her throat was raw, her small body convulsing in terror.


    Syrio looked at her with pity and said, "Don''t cry. I won''t you, little girl."


    Then, kicking off the elevated bamboo leg, he stared at the dying Davos.


    The dagger''s thrust had left Davos''s body rigid, blood gushing from his seven orifices, staining his silver armor.


    "Hoo~..."


    Davos''s instinctive gasps were reduced to a hoarse rasp, his eyelids growing heavier.


    In his final moments, he saw a small cargo ship approaching from the deep sea.


    In a sh of insight, he retained a trace of thought.


    The assassin had not lied. The ship was reallying.


    "Prince, you have been betrayed..."


    The remaining consciousness could not form the words, and Davos''s body fell backward uncontrobly.


    Bang!


    His bodynded heavily on the deck, kicking up a cloud of non-existent dust.


    The great sword on his back ttered, breaking free of its straps.


    The Sword of Dawn, a legendary weapon, fell silent.


    The two children burst into tears.


    Syrio sighed with a sense of loss, helplessly looking at the children, and bent down to pick up the great sword.


    "The Sword of Dawn, a legendary weapon."


    Syrio carefully examined the heavy sword, acknowledging the prince''s foresight.


    He would not have been a match for the Sword of Dawn in a fair fight.


    But it didn''t matter.


    Dorne excelled in assassination, an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.


    Ssh!


    Another cargo ship approached, with hundreds of people on deck.


    Robb, who should have been in Myr, stood at the edge of the deck, his expression solemn: "Take care of the children. Lord Corlys siege will begin before dawn."


    "Leave it to me."


    Syrio gave a graceful bow and said seriously, "<em>Vr dohaeris </em><i>(</i>All men must serve)."


    In the darkness of the night, the two cargo ships parted ways.


    The sound of a child''s heart-wrenching wailing could be faintly heard.


    ...


    Sunspear, the old pce.


    Qoren was alone in his bedchamber, sprawled out on his soft bed, his body encased in hard te armor even as he slept.


    It was midnight.


    Qoren''s face contorted in his sleep, as if gued by a terrible nightmare. Gradually, beads of sweat formed on his forehead.


    "Ah!"


    Qoren jolted awake, his handsome face twisted with fear, his eyes wide and dted, as if he had encountered something horrific.


    "Dave, why isn''t he back yet?"


    Qoren gasped for breath, muttering to himself. Then he remembered he had sent the man to escort his two children to the Narrow Sea. They should be on their way by now.


    He let out a sigh of relief and covered his forehead with a trembling hand. "The Stepstones are lightly guarded, so the cargo ships from Braavos and Vntis should not be intercepted."


    As far as he knew, Corlys Vryon had almost drained the Stepstones of its defense forces in his quest for revenge.


    "If Braavos could send a fleet to attack, it would regain control of the Stepstones."


    Qoren clenched his jaw, frustrated with the Sealord. "Stupid Sealord, he sees only the small benefits and forgets the greater good."


    His mind wandered to Wyl and Yronwood. "The ckhaven army will be stationed in Yronwood, with an empty rear and the King of the Iron Throne in front. No matter which side is attacked, the battle can be turned around."


    The Dornish knew their own castles better than anyone else.


    "Before the dragons arrive, we must leave the city before dawn and move the battlefield to favorable terrain."


    Qoren shook his head to clear his thoughts, but the more he shook it, the dizzier he felt.


    Before he knew it, he was fast asleep again.


    ...


    The next day, before the sun had fully risen, the early morning sky was still a chaotic blend of dark and light, but a red sun began its slow ascent.


    The sea rippled gently as the sun''s reflection turned the horizon a fiery red.


    "Roar..."


    A loud dragon roar shattered the calm of the sunrise.


    Above the Shadow City, Sunfyre soared in, releasing a stream of Dragonfire without hesitation.


    As the sun reached halfway up the sky, Sunfyre, with its golden scales and pale pink wing membranes, appeared like a radiant sun that had gone astray.


    Boom! Boom!


    Arge army emerged from the Greenblood River, surrounding the gates of the city andunching boulders from catapults.


    In Sunspear''s royal pce, Qoren jolted awake, startled by themotion outside.


    "What''s going on? What''s happening?!"


    He tore aside the bed curtains and rushed out of his bedroom, grabbing a guard.


    "The Sea Snake is attacking?" he demanded.


    The guard, trembling, replied, "The army is blocking the entrance to Shadow City, and a dragon is attacking the buildings."


    "Bastard!"


    Qoren kicked the guard aside and staggered out of the room, muttering to himself, "There is a tunnel under Shadow City. Sunspear can''t hold out."


    As he spoke, dizziness overwhelmed him, and he almost copsed. With sheer willpower, Qoren summoned his troops, understanding a harsh truth.


    No wonder the people of Essos hated the Dragonlords and their dragons. Before the dragons, Westeros''s powery in its thick armor, mobile cavalry, and impregnable castles.


    But the dragons changed everything. Thick armor was burned through, cavalry became mere ythings, and even the sturdiest castles, which once boasted natural defenses, crumbled under the might of dragons with air superiority.


    Outside the city walls of Shadow City, a 3,000-strong Crownds army marched proudly, maneuvering siege engines to attack.


    The Sea Snake, with a grim expression, shouted, "Release!"


    Boom! Boom!


    The catapultsunched boulders that smashed into the brownish-yellow battlements.


    The defenders, numbering only a few hundred, couldn''t withstand the dragon''s onught and were quickly overwhelmed.


    The Sea Snake waved his hand andmanded, "Break into the city!"


    The soldiers pushed the siege weapons forward, easily crashing through the unblocked city gate.


    At that moment, the sun rose fully, and the sky filled with fiery clouds.


    The Sea Snake looked up, his face twitching slightly, an indescribable excitement welling up in his eyes.


    ...


    "Run!"


    "One by one, the exit is in the desert."


    In a hidden corner of Shadow City, Dorne soldiers surged forward, scrambling to enter a secret passageway.


    One mile outside the city.


    Bang!


    A muffled sound came from the sand, followed by a pop as a wooden board was pushed aside.


    Qoren, covered in sand, crawled out of the hole on his hands and knees.


    "Hurry up! The Water Gardens are ahead. Go around them and take the path to Ghost Hill."


    Arge number of soldiers climbed out, and Qoren led the way into the desert.


    The road is impassable, so it''s safer to travel through the desert.


    Ghost Hill is the closest to Sunspear. We can get supplies there and then make a n.


    Hoo-hoo!


    Hebored through the sand, and a gust of wind blew past his head.


    Qoren froze, his joy of escape extinguished, and he looked up with difficulty.


    The sky suddenly darkened, and a shadow covered the earth, blocking the bright sun.


    Above his head, the blue sky disappeared, reced by a huge ck dragon.


    The dragon''s pupils were a dangerous shade of green, and it was at the top of the food chain.


    "Dracarys!"


    Suddenly, a clear voice rang out.


    The next second, green Dragonfire poured down.


    Qoren''s teeth clenched, and he only had time to see a silver-haired figure on the dragon''s back looking down at him with contempt.


    The hot air rushed towards him, and Qoren, like amb about to be ughtered, let out a desperate cry:


    "No!"

 Chapter 446: Father and Son Reunited

    Chapter 446: Father and Son Reunited


    A green fire ignited amidst the piercing screams.


    Flesh and blood scorched, armor melted, life returned to death.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal roared, and the misty Dragonfire spread evenly, like the grim reaper.


    Rhaegar looked calm, ying with a silver-white dagger shaped like a dragon horn.


    Calm andposed.


    He watched the arrogant Prince of Dorne struggle and scream, reduced to a charred corpse.


    "Arrogant wisdom is a form of unseeing stupidity," Rhaegar mused, surveying the devastation.


    Qoren had been clever. He foresaw the Iron Throne''s intentions to wage war against Dorne and sought to use the Free Cities beyond the Narrow Sea to weaken its power. Unfortunately, his cleverness had backfired.


    From the moment the Triarchy was broken, Dorne was doomed.


    Rhaegar shook his head at the charred, steel-like corpse. "None of the Free Cities are trustworthy. You chose the wrong allies from the start."


    Dorne''s involvement in the war caused Braavos to back down and shift the conflict to its allies. Qoren failed to control his nobles and hesitated to make the decisive move to destroy everything.


    During the First Dorne War, Dorne''s sess in negotiations was due inrge part to the unyielding spirit of the Yellow Toad. Without the courage to fight to the death, Dorne''s military strength paledpared to The Reach. Even with such resolve, they couldn''t stop the Targaryens at the height of their power.


    Located in the desert, Dorne''s development was slow, limited by its harsh environment.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre flew in the distance, its body passing through the clouds.


    Rhaegar saw it and patted the back of the Cannibal. The Cannibal knew the signal and slowly pped its wings tond.


    Dreamfyre flew closer, its hind legs stepping on the scorched corpses in the sand, and its rider leaning forward to reveal herself.


    Hena''s face lit up with excitement. "Lord Corlys has taken Sunspear and has the situation under control," she said happily.


    "What about the Dorne army?" Rhaegar asked, eyeing the hole Qoren had dug.


    Hundreds had just been burned to death, but there were still more than a thousand standing soldiers in Sunspear.


    "Aegon blocked the entrance, so they can''t escape," Hena pointed to the hole in the ground. "There''s a team in the secret passage. Lord Corlys asked me to block it."


    "Oh?" Rhaegar''s eyes sparked with inspiration, and he urged the Cannibal to the hole''s exit.


    The entrance was narrow, with arge amount of sand and gravel seeping in.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal turned its head, green pupils peering into the darkness of the tunnel.


    A hot breath was sprayed into the tunnel, and a momentter, there was amotion inside.


    A dragon is the crystallization of blood and fire.


    Not only is Dragonfire terrifying, but the breath exhaled from its mouth and nostrils is also extremely hot.


    As the Cannibal grew, the heat from his nose alone could burn the skin under his clothes.


    Rhaegar''s face turned cold, and he shouted, "Come out!"


    Qoren had three children, and he had already captured two of them. He still needed one more heir.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal let out a low growl, and the dragon''s mouth opened wide, gathering the dark green Dragonfire in its throat.


    "We surrender. Spare the Princess."


    Hundreds of Dorne soldiers swarmed out of the tunnel, and a noble officer cradled a tearful Aliandra in his arms.


    Having heard her father''s painful screams, Aliandra knew that she had lost him forever.


    Her heart was filled with grief and hatred.


    "Dracarys!"


    The girl''s voice rang out, calm but resolute.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre''s eyes shed with murderous intent, and a jet of orange and blue Dragonfire shot out.


    The Dragonfire streaked past the Cannibal''s eyes andnded precisely on the heads of more than a hundred Dorne soldiers.


    Aliandra, with her nk expression, was incinerated along with the rest.


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened slightly, and he looked straight at Hena.


    Hena said calmly, "She hates you."


    "Yes," Rhaegar said, his eyelids twitching.


    He had considered keeping Aliandra, which would have been beneficial for his subsequent rule.


    Hena lowered her eyes and said anxiously, "I am a girl and your Visenya, I will eliminate the difficult characters for you."


    That Dorne girl is impossible to train!


    Rhaegar was moved. "You''re right. We still have two Martells."


    Hena looked up at him timidly.


    They looked at each other and smiled.


    "Let''s go."


    Rhaegar patted the dragon''s back and said seriously, "With the copse of the Martell regime, Dorne will fall into chaos, and the hidden rebels will alle out."


    He was going to im the throne in Sunspear and then head to Yronwood.


    The Dorne nobles in Boneway are a tough nut to crack, so they need to concentrate their firepower.


    ...


    Yronwood.


    "Roar!"


    The Bronze Dragon swooped down, shattering the spire of the tower with its tail andnding in the castle courtyard with wings spread wide.


    "Your Grace..."


    The Cargyll brothers approached, their silver armor and white robes making them look imposing.


    "Hmm." Viserys carefully climbed down the dragon''s back, saying, "Rhaegar wrote to me that he and Lord Corlys are attacking Sunspear today. We need to be on high alert."


    Erryk, with a solemn expression, reassured him, "Your Grace, don''t worry. Ser Cole has taken over the city''s defenses with 3,000 soldiers. We have people stationed inside and outside the castle."


    Arryk, always smooth and tactful, added, "We will protect your safety at all times."


    Hearing this, Viserys nodded, feeling much more at ease.


    Like Wyl, Yronwood was also empty.


    In keeping with his strategic objective of controlling Boneway, ckhaven, Bitterbridge, and Grassy Vale had gathered 3,000 soldiers, and he personally led the army to Yronwood, the gateway to Boneway.


    Viserys twisted his body, his armor making it difficult for him to walk, and he couldn''t wait to reach the tower.


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, a strange, eerie sound came to his ears.


    Viserys''s heart leapt, and he turned around in surprise.


    A brownish mud dragon came into view. The dried-up dragon''s head had sunken eye sockets, and its vertical pupils shed with cunning light.


    "Aemond!"


    Viserys eximed, his eyes immediately falling on the silver-haired boy on the dragon''s back.


    "Father, I''m here!"


    Aemond smiled and waved his arms excitedly.


    It had been more than a month since he left the Red Keep, and he was finally able to see his father. "Roar..."


    The Sheepstealer''s pupils dted, his bad intentions quickly subsided, and then he stopped mid-air.


    The smile suddenly stopped.


    Aemond lost his bnce and fell forward, his freckled face mming into the dry, scaly surface.


    When he looked up again, a string of blood ran from his nose.


    "Oh, seven levels of hell!"


    Viserys had never seen anything like it, and his heart ached.


    "Sheepstealer, that''s too much!"


    Aemond shouted, expertly wiping away the blood.


    Seeing that his third son still had the strength to yell, Viserys let out a sigh of relief and joked, "This is a dragon with a mind of its own, as unique as its ugliness."


    This was not a taunt.


    Aemond had survived the Stornds, and the mud dragon had protected him well.


    Soon, the Sheepstealernded slowly and bellowed at the wary Cargyll brothers.


    "Your Grace, be careful!"


    Erryk gripped the hilt of his sword and positioned himself between the king and the danger.


    "Don''t worry, Kingsguard."


    Aemond jumped off the dragon''s back and cocked his head to the side. "He''s just hungry. Give him two goats, and he''ll be fine."


    "Roar..."


    The Sheepstealer''s eyes lit up, and it twisted its long neck back and forth, sniffing the air.


    It smelled like a goat that had been rotten for days.


    It had to be said, it had a keen sense of smell.


    Outside the city, there was a mountain of dead cattle and sheep, which the Vermithor''s Dragonfire had burned away.


    "My child,e and let your father take a good look."


    Viserys hugged Aemond as he approached and then looked him over, pleased. "You''ve grown strong. You look like your brother when he was just a boy."


    He pinched his arm, and it felt a little muscr and strong.


    Aemond lowered his head shyly and stole a longing nce at his father.


    It had been a long time since he had heard his father praise him.


    He longed for his parents'' attention.


    "Let''s go back to the castle. I''ll tell the chef to cook you a special wee dinner."


    Viserys put his arm around his son''s shoulders and teased him, "But you have to ignore the taste. After all, he''s a cook in the army, and the bread is so hard that it can crack your head."


    "Heh."


    Aemond just giggled and obediently followed.


    He had rushed to his father after finishing off the remnants of the Stornds.


    The father and son walked quickly ahead, with the Cargyll brothers following behind.


    Erryk and Arryk exchanged a nce, and thetter said, "Since it''s a wee banquet for the Prince, I''ll go inform Ser Cole and step up patrols tonight."


    "Good."


    Erryk had the same idea and said, "I''ll protect the king. Watch out for the kitchen and the well."


    The people of Dorne are skilled in poisoning and murder, so they must be doubly careful in this strange castle.


    The brothers understood each other and each went his own way.


    ...


    With Aemond''s arrival, the somber atmosphere of Yronwood was shattered.


    The soldiers were busier than ever, not daring to let their guard down for a moment.


    Soon night had fallen.


    The tower was lit, the warm glow of the torches casting long shadows.


    In the spacious hall, Viserys and Aemond dined together, the tter of cutlery mingling with their subdued conversation.


    Outside, soldiers patrolled diligently, and the torches flickered in the evening breeze.


    Everything seemed normal, with the gentle wind whispering through the courtyard.


    However, under the cover of darkness, shadows moved stealthily.


    In the kitchen, the cer, the stables, and even the dry well��subtle sounds could be heard.


    First, the kitchen.


    The kitchen, typically locked after dinner, was now a ce of unexpected activity.


    Bang! Bang! The muffled sounds grew louder, disturbing the quiet of the night.


    The noise didn��te from the walls or floor but from beneath the earthen-brick stove.


    Bang!


    A final, louder bang sent ashes flying from the stove, scattering over the flour sacks.


    An axe appeared in the dark hearth, its de gleaming ominously.


    With a few sharp blows, the hearth was breached, and a Dorne man wearing a scarf emerged from the darkness.


    More figures followed, breaking the door lock and slipping out of the house with predatory smiles.


    Simr scenes yed out in other hidden corners.


    The lights flickered, casting eerie shadows as venomous snakes revealed their fangs.


    It waste at night.


    Viserys, delighted by his son''s presence, had drunk heavily. Aemond, too, had taken a few sips, choking and coughing, which made his fatherugh heartily.


    "Father, let me help you back to bed," Aemond suggested sweetly, enjoying the rare warmth of being alone with his father.


    "Good, I''m sleepy too," Viserys replied, swaying unsteadily as he got up.


    Aemond, though younger, struggled to support his father, who was noticeably heavier.


    "Go and help," Erryk called to the guards in the hall, sensing the need for assistance.


    In an instant.


    Whoosh! Whoosh! Several arrows flew straight at Viserys and Aemond.


    Pop!


    The guards arrived just in time, shielding the king and his son with their bodies. They took the arrows in their backs, bleeding to death on the spot.


    "Assassins!" Erryk shouted, horrified, drawing his sword with a swift motion.


    Aemond looked up in panic. At the top of the stairs, a dozen Dorne men in brown leather armor stood with crossbows, their faces filled with murderous intent.


    "Protect Father, retreat quickly!" Aemond yelled, his heart racing. He pulled his father back, the instincts honed in the Stornds kicking in.


    Outside the tower, chaotic shouts filled the air.


    "Fire!"


    "The barn is on fire! Come quickly!"

 Chapter 447: The Runaway Dragon

    Chapter 447: The Runaway Dragon


    As the sound of the fire crackled ominously outside, a heavy dread settled over everyone''s heart.


    The people of Dorne weren��t mere rogues; they were orchestrating an assassination.


    Aemond��s mind reeled. Clutching his father��s sleeve, he whispered in a quavering voice, "Father, what do we do now?"


    Without his dragon, he was nothing but a frightened ten-year-old boy.


    Viserys, gripped by terror, faced a dozen assassins. The gravity of the moment sobered him, and he tried to soothe his son, his voice strained but calm.


    It was his first brush with death since iming the Iron Throne, and he was at a loss.


    "Don''t just stand there, protect His Grace!" came a desperate shout.


    Erryk, his face set in grim determination, wielded his sword like a deity of war, deflecting arrows with expert precision.


    While the guards shielded the king with their bodies, Erryk shattered a sturdy chair and armed himself with a hefty wooden shard, ready to defend his king.


    "Your Grace, it''s chaos outside. We should seek cover," Erryk advised, pulling the king behind the hall''s massive stone pirs.


    "Don''t let them escape," came a coldmand from a Dornish assassin, his eyes devoid of life as he loosed bolts from his crossbow.


    The guards, vastly outnumbered, fell one by one.


    In moments, only five breathless guards remained.


    Erryk, both shocked and enraged, scanned the hall for anything that could serve as a weapon, "Your Grace, we must escape,"


    Aemond spoke ,his voice trembling yet determined. "The dragons are outside."


    Hope flickered in Viserys'' eyes.


    Not only dragons waited outside, but a well-equipped army.


    Erryk faced the assassin and felt the pressure build. "Fourteen crossbowmen are positioned above. They''ll cut us down before we reach the gate," he warned.


    His eyes then moved to the remaining guards, d in quality armor. Those who had fallen had been fatally shot in the neck, while the survivors nursed wounds to their limbs, still able to fight.


    The three huddled together, discussing their options as the Dornish archers readied themselves above.


    Their leader, his face obscured by a hood, his gray eyes wolfish, his voice raspy,manded, "Move in, spare no one!"


    Seven assassins, crossbows drawn, descended without a sound.


    The five remaining guards, pale and trembling, drew their swords in a feeble attempt to defend themselves.


    The assault was relentless, the archers'' coordination impable.


    "Your Grace, my brother Arryk is outside. He''lle when he hears the disturbance. I''ll get you out," Erryk resolved, his face taut with determination.


    With only five guards left, they had no choice but to fight desperately.


    Further dy would mean certain death.


    Viserys, clutching Aemond, sprinted from the room, seeking the protection of a Kingsguard''s white robe.


    "There! The King of the Iron Throne! Kill him!" an icy voice ordered from above as an arrow zipped through the air.


    ng!


    Erryk countered, repelling the nearest assassin with a forceful kick, and yelled, "Run! Don��t look back!"


    Aemond��s face was ghostly white as he nced at the blood-stained Kingsguard, trembling in his father��s embrace.


    Stripped of his dragon, a crushing sense of vulnerability overwhelmed him, his sword hanging heavy and useless in his hand.


    ...


    At that moment, fires erupted throughout the castle.


    The ze began in the barn and stables, fanned by the fierce night wind, spreading uncontrobly.


    Soldiers shouted and scrambled to extinguish the mes, the scene a chaotic riot of activity.


    "Hurry! His Grace is in grave danger!"


    Arryk, watching the chaos unfold, was consumed with worry. He led a group of patrolmen toward the tower, his duty as a Kingsguard to protect the king foremost in his mind.


    The fire seemed suspicious, a nefarious plot unfolding within enemy territory.


    "Roar!"


    A thunderous roar shattered the night, followed by a torrent of golden Dragonfire lighting up the sky like a volcanic eruption.


    Arryk��s expression shifted as he turned towards the outer walls of the castle, illuminated by the fiery glow.


    Under the night sky, a bronze dragon''s head emerged from the castle wall, its eyes wild with fury.


    Rumbling��


    The dragon''s ws gripped the wall, and as it rose, sections of the castle crumbled beneath its massive feet.


    With its fangs bared and mouth wide open, the dragon spewed golden Dragonfire like moltenva.


    "Vermithor!"


    Arryk''s eyes widened in shock, his heart feeling as if it had been struck by a battering ram.


    A dragon, driven mad by rage!


    ...


    Outside the castle, under the vast and boundless night sky, the desert stretched endlessly.


    An unsightly mud-brown dragony on its back in the sand, gazing vacantly at a ckened hillock. This grotesque mound,posed of the rotting corpses of thousands of sheep and cattle, stood as a grim testament to decay.


    Vermithor''s Dragonfire had only managed to scorch the surface, failing to reduce it to ashes.


    In this deste scene, the Sheepstealer found himself in a dire predicament. He eyed the charred peak, weighing his options.


    The good news was the abundance of fat sheep within the pile. The bad news was their advanced state of decay, crawling with maggots.


    Sometimes, the choice to eat or not to eat posed a true dilemma.


    Bored and restless, the Sheepstealer hunched over and flicked his tail. For a dragon, eating rotten mutton was a humiliating prospect.


    Boom!


    A sudden explosion shattered the silence of the night.


    "Roar?"


    The Sheepstealer snapped his head back, his eyes reflecting the mes consuming the castle. He hesitated for a moment, then another...


    "Roar!"


    Realization struck. In a frantic scramble, the Sheepstealer sprang from the sand, his body moving with surprising speed and agility. He took to the night sky, almost tumbling over itself in urgency.


    ...


    The Tower, The Hall


    "Push, push harder!"


    Aemond''s face flushed as he leaned his entire weight against the door, straining to force it open.


    Viserys growled, pushing with all his might, ignoring the death and destruction behind him.


    But the solid wooden door didn��t budge.


    In Westeros, castle gates were designed to be imprable. The two three-meter-high, twenty-centimeter-thick wooden doors, reinforced with a thickyer of iron ting, were almost immovable.


    Father and son, one old and one young, exerted all their strength, managing to open just a crack.


    "Damn it, how can this door be heavier than the Red Keep''s gate? Is it blocked from the outside?" Viserys shouted, furious, as a wound on his hand burst open, blood streaming down his arm.


    Pop!


    A hidden arrow struck a guard in the forehead.


    Casualties were mounting in the melee.


    "Your Grace, the front door won''t open. Let''s go to the back door!" Erryk shouted, having just dispatched an assassin with his sword.


    Viserys, already considering that option, pulled his son away from the door and headed for the back exit.


    He realized this was a calcted assassination attempt. The people of Dorne had abandoned the castle, deliberately luring his army in and using secret passageways for their attack.


    "Father, there''s a dragon roaring outside," Aemond said, regaining hisposure. He recognized Vermithor''s roar, loud and angry, echoing outside the tower.


    It wasn''t the Sheepstealer. The Sheepstealer wasn''t this close to their location.


    Whoosh! Whoosh!


    Viserys had no time to respond as another volley of arrows shot towards them.


    "Run!"


    Father and son narrowly escaped, a bolt nearly grazing Aemond''s head, cutting a lock of his silver-blonde hair.


    Viserys stumbled, panic gripping him. He heard Vermithor''s roar, disturbed by the fire and chaos,and its fury growing.


    The bond between him and Vermithor wasn''t strong enough to calm the dragon from afar.


    The situation deteriorated quickly.


    The Dornish assassins from above rained down crossbow bolts before joining the melee below. Their leader charged Erryk, shing at his breastte, sparks flying as his sword struck the steel.


    "Die!" Erryk shouted, shing an assassin''s throat and blocking another blow.


    The Kingsguard''s armor, some of the finest in Westeros, allowed him to maneuver effectively among the attackers.


    The leader of the assassins, eyes zing with fury, called out to his men: "Go, deal with the target first!"


    "Yes!"


    Two assassins broke away, heading straight for the Targaryen father and son.


    "Father, let''s go!" Aemond urged, pushing Viserys to move faster. With the dragons gone and the guards dwindling, he felt the weight of responsibility to protect his father.


    Viserys��s forehead was slick with cold sweat, pain etched across his face as he gritted his teeth, struggling to keep up.


    "Kill him!"


    The two assassins closed in, swords raised.


    "Get away from me!" Aemond was small but fearless.


    He grabbed a stool leg and hurled it at the assassins, then dragged his father and ran.


    The assassins gave chase, and the father and son sprinted desperately.


    The back door was blocked, forcing Aemond to pull his father back towards the front door.


    Fortunately, the assassins had run out of arrows.


    There was no need to worry about being shot in the back, but the price was two relentless pursuers, their curved swords shing.


    A sh across Aemond''s back tore his green cloak. His heart pounded in his chest, and he instinctively clenched his muscles in pain and fear.


    These Dornish assassins must be mad to dare attack him and his father so openly.


    If anything happened to his father tonight, Rhaegar would ascend the Iron Throne by morning.


    Given his brother''s nature, Dorne wouldn''t get away with it.


    Had they forgotten Queen Rhaenys'' death and the dragon''s wrath that had gued Dorne for years?


    The assassins, faces hidden and eyes crazed, clearly didn''t care.


    The war was on; consequences be damned. Killing a king would be a monumental feat for all of Dorne.


    Plop.


    Just before reaching the gate, Viserys stumbled and fell heavily to the floor.


    "Father!" Aemond cried out.


    "One for each," one assassin said to the other as they advanced on the fallen king and his son.


    "Stop!"


    At the critical moment, Erryk charged in, knocking one assassin aside.


    Aemond gasped and reached for his father''s waist, feeling the hilt of ckfyre.


    Swish!


    A sh of ck steel as the ancestral sword was drawn. It didn��t cut the assassin''s neck or pierce his chest, but Aemond managed to block the curved de, buying precious seconds.


    "Aemond, leave me. Run upstairs!" Viserys urged, slumped on the ground, dazed and weak from drink and shock. He could no longer run, but he hoped his third son could survive.


    "Father," Aemond whispered, tears welling up. He had always believed his father favored his eldest brother, never caring for him.


    "Run! Find your brother. Rhaegar will avenge me," Viserys insisted. The whole city of Yronwood was unsafe, and he hoped his son would escape on his dragon.


    "No one can escape," the assassin sneered, hearing their heartfelt exchange, and swung his sword again.


    Nearby, Erryk was locked inbat with another assassin.


    After breaking his opponent''s neck, he turned to see the remaining guards ughtered and more assassins closing in.


    "Death to the Targaryens!" an assassin shouted.

 Chapter 448: One-Eyed Aemon

    Chapter 448: One-Eyed Aemon


    Terrified and trembling, Aemond felt his legs turn to stone at the thought of his father standing resolutely behind him. With shaking hands, he drew his sword to defend himself.


    ng!


    Aemond''s de, ckfyre, shed against the assassin''s scimitar, only to be knocked aside. The assant''s grotesque face contorted as he swung his weapon relentlessly.


    Aemond''s horror deepened; he raised his arm in a futile attempt to block, stumbling backward.


    Sizzling��


    The scimitar��s tip grazed his forehead, slicing open his eye with a merciless strike. Aemond froze, blood gushing from the wound, and screamed in agony.


    "Ah!"


    He copsed to the ground with a heavy thud.


    "My eye! My eye!"


    His screams echoed as he clutched at his face, blood seeping through his fingers. The assassin paused, surprised by Aemond''s partial dodge.


    "Aemond!"


    Viserys, seeing his son''s plight, rushed to his side in rm.


    Aemond, overwhelmed by pain, shook his head violently, ignoring his father''s cries. His body convulsed as darkness engulfed his left eye, the pain unbearable.


    In his agony, he longed for thefort of his mother and sister. The sound of battle approached, his father''s voice a beacon of strength amid the chaos. Memories of his older brother''s stories - his survival and dominance over the wildlings of Crackw Point - flickered in his mind.


    Weakness was not an option; he must wait for the right moment to strike back.


    Surrounded by enemies, the Targaryens - once considered demigods, the Dragonlords - now appeared to be merembs for the ughter.


    Gasping for breath, Aemond clung to his father, his surviving eye catching sight of the dragonhorn dagger at his father''s belt. ckfyrey beyond his reach, disdainfully kicked aside by the assassin, who then thrust his scimitar forward in a deadly arc.


    "Let''s see how you dodge this time."


    "No!"


    Erryk, besieged and bloodied by other assants, cried out in horror.


    The scimitar inched closer, its cold gleam menacing. Driven by desperation, Aemond rolled over his father, seizing the dragonhorn dagger.


    "Die!"


    He rose unsteadily, lunging forward with the dagger aimed at the oing de.


    The light from both des intertwined, casting a spectral glow over the hall, which then fell deathly silent. Erryk, aghast, stared at the unfolding scene, while the assassins, driven by bloodlust, hungered for the kill of a Targaryen.


    Before emotions could shift, the unexpected shattered the tense silence.


    "Roar..."


    With explosive force, the doors burst inward, hurling the heavy wooden nks like deadly projectiles. The assassins barely had time to register the chaos before the nks struck, their deadly impact shattering skulls.


    A cloud of dust and debris marked the entrance of an awesome creature. The dragon, Sheepstealer, thrust its aged head through the shattered doorway, its horns splintering wood and sending splinters flying. In the settling dust, its brown eyes glowed with a cold, tyrannical fury.


    "Roar..."


    The cavernous hall shook as dragonfire surged forth, a tidal wave of searing heat and light. One assassin, his back to the dragon, was engulfed before he could even turn - a loud explosion marking his instant demise as the dragonfire consumed him.


    In that split second, the sound of steel cutting through flesh echoed. Aemond, his face sttered with blood, plunged his dagger into an assassin''s groin just as the dragonfire reached him.


    Whoosh!


    The st of fiery breath swept over him, knocking him to the ground.


    Behind him, Viserys acted quickly, rolling to shield himself and hugging tightly as the dragonfire zed past, leaving nothing but scorched earth and charred remains in its wake.


    A wave of unbearable heat washed over Aemond. He struggled to his feet, his clothes and cloak incinerated, his skin blistered and tender. A singed lock of hair fell to his cheek, still glowing with the remnants of the dragonfire.


    "Sheepstealer!" Aemond cried, a mixture of pain and relief in his voice.


    Outside, the massive dragon, Sheepstealer,y sprawled, its huge head filling the entrance as it surveyed the chaos with fiery eyes.


    "You won''t get away."


    Erryk''s voice rang out as he kicked an assassin leader aside, diving to the ground for cover.


    "Roar..."


    Dragonfire burst forth once more, enveloping the remaining assassins in a chaotic inferno. Erryk, fortunate in his quick reaction, remained unscathed on the floor.


    "Haha, we''re saved!" Aemond''sugh mingled with tears as he turned to embrace his father.


    Viserys was in a terrible state. His back was scorched, his magnificent silver-blonde hair on fire. Hey unconscious, his skin not badly burned, but flushed and feverish, his wounds oozing both pus and blood.


    Aemond''s relief turned to shock as he reached for his father, seeing him so badly injured for the first time. His hand hovered uncertainly over the frightening sight.


    "Roar!"


    The door burst open, the deafening roar of an enraged dragon piercing Aemond''s ears. Gritting his teeth, he pulled his father under the table for safety before sprinting toward Sheepstealer.


    As he reached the door, the sh of metal hit his ears.


    Outside the tower, a swarm of masked men from Dorne had flooded the courtyard. Arryk rallied his men to face the invaders, but the enemy''s sheer numbers overwhelmed the patrolling soldiers. A brave group even charged at Sheepstealer, aiming to y the dragon while its neck was being wedged in the door frame.


    Boom! Boom!


    Chaos reigned outside the courtyard. Ser Cole, d in silver armor and a blood-spattered white robe, led over a hundred men in a frenzied battle. Soldiers scattered, hastily engaging the enemy as hundreds of masked men ambushed those attempting to extinguish the fires.


    "Roar!"


    A bronze w smashed through a house, Sheepstealer''s massive body iling wildly. Golden dragonfire erupted, falling indiscriminately into a crowded alley, setting Yronwood aze beneath the night sky.


    Vermithor, eyes zing with fury, leaped over the city walls toward the tower, spewing fire in every direction. Sensing the danger to its rider, it went into an uncontroble rage, killing friend and foe alike.


    Elsewhere, the city walls crumbled under the dragon''s might, sending the defending soldiers fleeing in terror. More masked men emerged from the shadows and opened the city gates to let in a Dorne army of 2,000 men.


    Leading them were two figures. One bore the emblem of the ck Gate, Olyvar Yronwood. The other, tall and corpulent, was Lord Harmen of House Uller, wielding a shield emzoned with a "yellow and crimson me."


    Harmen Uller had foreseen that Kingsgrave and Skyreach at Prince''s Pass would not withstand the dragonfire, so he brought his troops to Yronwood in anticipation. Despite the animosity between their houses, he respected Olyvar Yronwood''s martial prowess.


    With dragons in the skies, Dorne had reverted to the guerri tactics of old. The Prince''s Pass faced the Targaryen regent, their most formidable adversary. Harmen, though arrogant, didn''t underestimate the young conqueror of the Triarchy.


    Their target was the King on the Iron Throne at Boneway��vulnerable and weak. Harmen and Yronwood devised a "siege n," luring the enemy in to trap them tonight.


    Eyes gleaming with madness, Harmen shouted, "Charge! Cut off the king''s and the dragon''s heads!"


    Tonight, he aimed to be a dragon yer. The soldiers of Dorne, driven by their leader''s fervor, cheered and charged the burning tower, undeterred by Vermithor''s wrath.


    ...


    In the courtyard, Sheepstealer crouched, supporting the tower with its wings, shaking its head in agitation.


    "Roar..."


    Thirty masked men, armed with axes and spears, rushed forward to attack the dragon. One axe struck, barely chipping a piece of the dragon''s tough scales.


    "Roar..."


    Sheepstealer, responding to the cries of the boy in the hall, pped his brown wings wildly, sending masked men flying like insects. A single swipe of its wings scattered flesh and blood in all directions.


    Unshaken, the masked men climbed onto the dragon''s back, desperate to y the beast.


    Inside the hall, Aemond, impatient and desperate, tried to approach Sheepstealer''s head, but was driven back by its fangs. The dragon refused to heed its rider''smands, determined to break down the door.


    "Prince, take Your Grace away first. The people of Dorne have entered the city!" Erryk, struggling to his feet, urged Aemond.


    The sounds of battle outside grew louder; the city gate had probably fallen.


    "Impossible!" Aemond shouted defiantly. "Sheepstealer hase to save me. I will not abandon my dragon. It will help me put down the rebellion!"


    The dragon was everything to Aemond. A Targaryen without a dragon was not worthy of the name.


    Boom!


    The courtyard gate shattered and a cloud of dust rose as Dorne soldiers rushed in. Aemond''s expression froze, his left eye stinging.


    "Roar..." Sheepstealer roared, mming its head against the stone door frame, loosening the walls.


    "Sheepstealer!" Aemond called, covering his left eye with one hand, a painful smile on his lips.


    Outside the tower, Harmen Uller led his troops into the courtyard. Encircling Arryk��s squad, he turned to the trapped Sheepstealer with excitement. A stationary dragon was a blessing from the gods.


    "Charge! Restore the glory of our ancestors!" Harmen shouted, brandishing his double-edged battle axes. House Uller knew the sharp axes could sever dragon wings and spears could blind dragon eyes from dissecting a dragon��s remains.


    As cries to kill the dragon filled the air, Aemond, distracted, rushed to Sheepstealer, pushing its head. "Get out! Get out of here!" He didn��t want to die, nor did he want his father or the dragon to perish. This ugly beast was his dignity.


    "Hurry up! You came to save me, not to die!" A tear rolled down Aemond''s right eye as he cried out in despair.


    Whoosh!


    Suddenly, a gust of wind carrying the scent of ash swept over Yronwood. The night sky darkened, the bright moon swallowed by an ominous force. Arryk, wounded and imprisoned, looked up. Despair gave way to hope as two greennterns the size of bronze bells appeared in the pitch-ck sky.


    A silver-haired youth, standing against the night, surveyed the chaos with a frosty gaze, lips slightly parted: "Dracarys!"


    A violent wind howled, dark clouds rolled in. A ck dragon emerged, its greenntern eyes turning into vertical pupils, fangs stained with blood. The dragon��s mouth opened in a cruel arc.


    "Roar!"


    Like a thunderbolt, the sky split open, and dark green Dragonfire, a harbinger of death, poured down on the crowd below. Harmen Uller was the first to be engulfed, a pool of Dragonfirending on his shoulder.


    "Ah!"


    Green Dragonfire descended, filling the courtyard with wails of agony.

 Chapter 449: The Red Queen and the Blood Wyrm

    Chapter 449: The Red Queen and the Blood Wyrm


    From the center of the courtyard, a torrent of green Dragonfire erupted, spreading in all directions.


    Arge number of Dorne soldiers nced up to see a sh of green light before being reduced to cinders in an instant.


    At the tower gate, Dragonfire rained down, consuming the dozens of masked men attempting to y Sheepstealer. The dragon, with his tail caught in the fire, reacted violently.


    "Roar!"


    A loud, shrill cry echoed as Sheepstealer, fueled by pain, pulled with desperate strength.


    "Sheepstealer!" Aemond shouted in terror, fearing for his dragon.


    Sheepstealer''s pupils dted with agony, and it mmed its head against the wall with tremendous force.


    Crack!


    The thick wall crumbled under the impact, stones shattering. Sheepstealer quickly freed its head, screeching in pain as it crawled out, its wings aiding his frantic movements. He smothered the mes on its tail and raised its head in fury, searching for the source his torment.


    Its eyes widened in anger as he met the gaze of another dragon with green pupils.


    "Roar!"


    Under the bright moon, the Cannibal hovered in the air, its grotesque head surveying the castle. Sheepstealer, seeing the abyssal green eyes of the Cannibal, recognized the greed, cunning, and tyranny they held.


    "Roar..."


    Sheepstealer immediately ceased the attack, focusing its rage on the courtyard''s remaining enemies. It opened his mouth and unleashed a torrent of Dragonfire, determined to rescue its master by incinerating the intruders.


    With a thunderous crash, the Cannibalnded in the front yard, dragon saliva dripping from its maw. Rhaegar nced at the scene and leapt off its back, perfectly in sync with his dragon.


    "Prince, Your Grace is in the tower," Arryk called out, staggering forward in his blood-stained armor.


    In the courtyard, the two dragons wreaked havoc, their green and brown mes shooting high into the sky. Dorne soldiers were ughtered like hatchlings, crushed under the dragons'' might.


    Rhaegar, his face grim, walked through the mes and screams, heading for the tower as if he were alone in the world. A mountain of rubbley before the tower, charred corpses strewn about.


    Among the debris, Harmen writhed and screamed, engulfed in green fire. Rhaegar noticed the family crest on his chest, a cold light shing in his eyes. He stepped over the gate and entered the hall.


    Inside, the hall was a chaotic mess, the strong smell of burning filling the air.


    At first nce, Rhaegar saw his father unconscious in Erryk''s arms, and his anger red. He stepped forward quickly and shouted, "Father!"


    Turning to Erryk, he asked, "What happened? The castle was almost taken by the Dornish."


    He hade to Yronwood without rest after the capture of Sunspear, fearing for his father''s safety with ckhaven''s inadequate forces. But the Dornish had been so desperate that they had even plotted to kill the king.


    Erryk, ashamed and weak, exined, "There is a secret passage in the city. If it weren''t for Prince Aemond, Your Grace would have been in grave danger."


    The timing of the Dornish attack was too precise. Arryk led the patrol while Cole guarded the city gates. They set fires to distract and weaken the defenses, then seized the opportunity to strike. No one had expected such a bold assassination attempt.


    d expected such a bold assassination attempt.


    Rhaegar, furious, gently touched his father''s wounds and used his Serpent Rune to heal him. Sunspear had just been breached, and news of Qoren''s death had not yet spread. Yet the Dornish had dared to openly assassinate the king.


    Lawless!


    Rhaegar was relieved to find no other wounds on his father and suddenly thought of Aemond. He turned to see Aemond standing alone at the edge of the ruins, gazing anxiously in their direction. One eye averted in guilt, the other...


    Rhaegar was momentarily stunned. A vertical bloodstain ran down Aemond''s freckled face from his left eye to his chin. The eye was tightly shut, and the wound exposed soft flesh, blood flowing over his face. Aemond was trembling with pain and sadness.


    "Aemond!"


    Rhaegar''s expression shifted, nearly losing focus on his healing spell. Aemond, like a lost child finding sce, met Rhaegar''s gaze with his right eye and whispered, "I didn''t run away. I stood in front of Father."


    His voice was soft but filled with strong emotion. Rhaegar''s heart tightened, realizing what his father and brother had endured. His lips trembled, "Come,e to me."


    "Brother!" Tears welled in Aemond''s right eye as he threw himself into Rhaegar''s arms.


    Rhaegar forced a smile, embracing his brave brother. The hall was filled with corpses. Erryk, covered in blood, seemed on the brink of death. Aemond''s back was blistered, and he had lost his left eye to protect their father, who was miraculously unscathed.


    "Sss!"


    Aemond''s movement tore at his left eye and back, making him cry out in agony. The pain, suppressed until now, surged through his body as he saw Rhaegar.


    "Good boy," Rhaegar murmured, rubbing his head and resting his chin on Aemond''s shoulder. "Aemond, from tonight on, you are a real man."


    In front of everyone, he had dared to protect his family, embodying the true spirit of a Targaryen.


    "Mmm," Aemond choked.


    At that moment, the unconscious Viserys frowned and muttered, "Aemond... Rhaegar... help him... Aemond... my son..." His body convulsed.


    "Father, I''m here," Rhaegar soothed, using the Serpent Rune to swallow the ck gas causing his father��s pain.


    Viserys, though not a perfect man, had shown great bravery by leading the dragons to Dorne. Now, weakened and injured, he was uncertain to survive. Gradually, Viserys calmed at his eldest son''s voice, slipping back into sleep.


    Rhaegar patted Aemond''s back, then turned to the seriously injured Erryk, saying, "Hang in there."


    After ensuring his father''s safety, he would attend to the others.


    ...


    Outside the tower, the malevolent Sheepstealer wreaked havoc on the Dorne soldiers, thrashing them in a vengeful frenzy. Its imprable scales shrugged off even the sharpest swords and axes, rendering them useless.


    Attempts to strike its eyes were futile; the dragon''s head towered over ten meters high, far beyond the soldiers'' reach. The Dorne soldiers were mere ants beneath the dragon''s ws, their screams and curses swallowed by the chaos as they were crushed to pulp.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal unleashed a torrent of Dragonfire, casting a greenish glow over most of the courtyard. Its colossal body, as tall as a tower, smashed into the wall with such force that the stone crumbled.


    Roar!


    A furious roar echoed from outside the castle. The Cannibal slowly turned its head, green pupils slicing through the night and reflecting the fierce golden mes.


    Hoo-hoo!


    After a nce at the courtyard, now an inferno of carnage, the Cannibal took flight, leaving the scene behind. The rider''s thoughts calmed the enraged dragon, guiding it away from the devastation.


    ...


    Fires raged in the city, filling the night sky with smoke. Some of the fires were man-made, but most were the result of the dragons'' fiery breath.


    "Don''t fall behind! Kill all the Dornish bastards!" Cole ordered, leading his soldiers into battle against the invaders.


    The Dornish were numerous, scattered throughout the key areas of the city. Fortunately, the city''s defenders had regained theirposure and were rallying to the main force.


    "Do not linger! Archers, prepare!" A voice shouted from above, in a brick and stone building.


    Cole looked up in rm. It was a three-story brothel, now upied by Dornish men armed with crossbows.


    "Take cover! Hurry!" Cole shouted, killing an opponent and running with his hands over his head. He was a skilled and strong fighter, but he couldn''t save everyone. Hundreds of soldiers were shot and killed in a sudden ambush.


    "Roar!"


    A piercing roar echoed in the distance.


    "Dracarys!" A cold female voice filled with rage rang out.


    A scarlet dragon shed past, unleashing red Dragonfire on the brothel. The Dornish men had no time to react as the Dragonfire scorched them.


    "Roar!" The scarlet dragon swooped down again, its fiery breath slicing through the brothel''s walls, breaking windows, and setting the entire building aze.


    Roar...


    Another dragon roar echoed, and a pale blue dragon flew in from afar. Hena anxiously surveyed the burning town below.


    She saw the scarlet dragon approaching, its neck outstretched, revealing its rider. Rhaenys''s expression was cold but softened slightly upon seeing her long-lost niece.


    "I just saw Rhaegar riding over there," Rhaenys said.


    Without waiting for a response, she rode her dragon into the fray.


    Hena, stunned, finally gave the order. "Dreamfyre, burn the Dornish along the way."


    ...


    In the endless desert, under the cover of night, a disheveled Dorne army of several hundred men fled in chaos. Olyvar Yronwood, his face ckened with soot, led the way, stumbling forward. Behind them, the city of Yronwood was aze, dragons circling overhead.


    He had to run. The moment he entered the castle, a Bronze Dragon had attacked, nearly incinerating him on the spot. He had tried to assassinate a Targaryen, but now he couldn''t even hold his ancestral home.


    For now, he had to flee, contemting a route south to Sunspear or north to the Boneway. As for Harmen Uller, that madman? Their families had been feuding for generations, each wishing the other dead.


    Suddenly, Olyvar sensed something was wrong. He stopped abruptly, causing the soldiers behind him to halt. His adjutant approached, asking a question.


    Olyvar''s face grew tense as he sniffed the air. His acute sense of smell detected something unusual.


    Boom!


    In the distance, the heavy thud of something massive hitting the ground echoed. Olyvar stiffened, eyes wide with fear. In the darkness, a colossal figure moved, resembling a snake.


    "Roar..." A shrill, piercing sound filled the air, prating eardrums like a sonic wave. Then, out of nowhere, red mes ignited.


    A monstrous, blood-red creature with a snake-like body appeared, its cruel pupils glinting as it crawled forward. Olyvar''s spine tingled with terror as he recognized the silver-haired figure on the dragon''s back.


    Daemon looked down on the fleeing soldiers with disdain, speaking in High Valyrian, the newnguage he had mastered: "Burn them all"


    Caraxes obeyed without hesitation, unleashing a torrent of scarlet Dragonfire.


    In the desert, a ze erupted, and the screams of the Dornishmen were swiftly silenced, leaving only the snorting of the Blood Wyrm.

 Chapter 450: Relic – Dagger of Grudges

    Chapter 450: Relic �C Dagger of Grudges


    The next morning.


    In the tower bedroom, Rhaegar sat at his father''s bedside. Viserysy in a restless sleep, his forehead furrowed, his lips parted, his grunts pitiful. Rhaegar''s face tightened with concern as he hurried to check on him.


    Crack!


    The door opened softly and Hena entered. She was wearing a green dress, her long silver-blonde hair cascading unkempt over her shoulders.


    Hena looked down at the bed, her voice low. "How is he? Has Father woken up?"


    Rhaegar shook his head, carefully giving his father a small sip of water. Viserys swallowed reflexively, easing his dry throat and making his breathing smoother.


    Hena looked sideways at the gauze-covered window. Outside, Yronwoody in ruins, a burnt-out wastnd littered with broken limbs and shattered bones. Her gaze shifted down to the sill beneath the window and the wall at its base.


    Aemond was curled up against the wall, sleeping fitfully and muttering. The previous night had been too much for him. He had lost an eye and was still in shock, insisting on staying in the same room as his father and older brother.


    "Mmm..."


    A cool breeze blew through the window, causing Aemond to wake in pain. He looked up sharply, ncing at the bed with his right eye.


    Rhaegar met his gaze, gently wiping their father''s mouth. Aemond sighed in relief, touched his stitched left eye, and struggled to sit up.


    "Gently," Hena whispered, moving forward to help him.


    Aemond pouted, holding back tears. "Sister," heined softly.


    Rhaegar had treated him the previous night. The left eye was beyond repair, removed, and the wound stitched. Aemond had lost the eye permanently.


    "Shh," Hena said gently, kneeling to embrace him. "Don''t cry. You''re a man now."


    Aemond sniffled, fighting back tears, fearful of being mocked.


    Hena stroked his head and cheeks with deeppassion. Rhaegar watched quietly, a smile forming. "Aemond is very brave. He saved Father and himself, even at such a cost."


    "I know," Hena replied, her eyes distracted as she looked at Rhaegar. "His strong will has always set him apart, and it will only make him stronger."


    Aemond, not fully understanding but afraid of being ridiculed, pulled away from Hena��s embrace.


    Crack!


    The door opened again, revealing three figures. Cole stood solemnly, his posture impable. The Cargyll brothers, both seriously injured in the previous night''s battle - one in the hall and one in the courtyard - stood with him. Cole, more skilled in the martial arts, had suffered only minor injuries and had taken over as the king''s guard.


    "His Grace is in aa. Please be careful," Cole said in a hushed tone.


    Rhaenys nodded, stepping into the bedroom first. Daemon followed, giving a sidelong nce and teasing, "Do a good job, former Commander of the Kingsguard."


    Seeing them, Rhaegar managed a smile and greeted them naturally. Both had arrived the night before, just in time to help quell the rebellion in Yronwood and assist in defeating the attacking Dornish forces. Without their help, he wouldn��t have managed, and Hena would have been overwhelmed.


    Daemon cast a casual nce at the bed and asked, "How is my brother?" His tone was ambiguous, betraying his uncertainty.


    Rhaegar shook his head. "Not very good. I suspect he was so frightened that he refuses to wake up."


    "Are all the Maesters dead?" Daemon asked, irritation creeping into his voice. He didn''t understand how his weak brother could have ended up in such a dire situation, even while leading dragons into battle.


    "The Maester is dead. He was the only one," Hena answered calmly.


    Daemon didn''t acknowledge her, instead focusing on Aemond, paying special attention to his blind eye. "One eye," he said, "maybe it will make you see the world a little more clearly."


    Aemond, sensitive and wary, felt the scrutiny of his uncle.


    "Okay, don''t be so hostile when you first meet," Rhaenys interjected, her impatience cutting through the tension.


    Daemon looked up, feigning interest in the ceiling. Rhaegar, unwilling to escte the situation, raised his hand to calm his sister and brother. He knew exactly what kind of person his uncle was��someone who might exploit chaos to knock a six-year-old nephew off a dragon''s back.


    Rhaegar shook his head and smiled, his eyes hardening with ferocity. As long as his father was alive, Daemon yed the role of a good uncle and protector. But if anything were to happen to his father this time...


    No one would be better off.


    Rhaenys walked over to the bed and looked at her cousin, who was breathing weakly. She sighed and said, "Without a Maester''s diagnosis, Viserys will be in trouble. It''s time to escort him back to King''s Landing."


    "That''s what I was thinking," Rhaegar agreed. "Father is not well, and he can''t rest in Dorne."


    The news of Qoren''s death would soon spread throughout Westeros. When that happens, Dorne will fight back with all their might. At this thought, his expression turned cold.


    Rhaegar took his father''s hand and asked, "How many prisoners were takenst night? How many members of House Uller were among them?"


    House Uller had provoked him, conspiring with House Yronwood to assassinate his father. Such betrayal could not go unavenged.


    Rhaenys frowned slightly and answered truthfully, "There were over 500 prisoners in total, including more than a dozen from House Uller. The mastermind Harmen Uller, his five sons, and seven bastard children are among them."


    Hearing this, Rhaegar drew a silver dagger from his back and sneered, "These pigs are quite fertile."


    He threw the dagger at Aemond and said, "Harmen Uller is mine. The rest will be dealt with one by one with this dagger."


    Aemond was stunned but picked up the dagger. It felt smooth and warm, like jade. He examined it closely. The dagger was a foot long, all silver and white, and very light. The handle was finely carved with dragon scales, far smoother than Sheepstealer''s scales. The de was half-moon shaped, with blood grooves on both sides and a rippling surface.


    "Valyrian steel?" Aemond eximed in surprise.


    "Yes," Rhaegar confirmed calmly. "It''s yours. Use it to protect yourself."


    "Really?" Aemond asked excitedly. "Does it have a name?"


    "No, you can think of one yourself," Rhaegar replied, looking serious. "Use it to avenge yourself and kill the brutes of House Uller!"


    This was no ordinary dagger. It was a relic, a dragon tooth dagger stained with blood, activated by the Explorer System.


    System panel record:


    [Scales of Meraxes]


    Exploration progress: 100%


    The relic discovered is a dragon tooth, stained with blood.


    [The Fallen Dragon]


    Quality: Rare (Blue)


    Below epic level, relics can be activated directly, so...


    "Congrattions, the fallen dragon has been sessfully activated, and you have obtained..."


    [Old Grudge]


    Quality: Rare (Blue)


    Function: Valyrian steel


    Comment: "Contains the resentment of a dragon. Complete the backlog of grievances and you will receive a blessing from the dragon spirit."


    Rhaegar had tried to uncover what the blessing of the dragon grudge was but never found out. Deciding not to dirty his hands with the blood of House Uller beyond killing Harmen, he gave the dagger to Aemond, thinking it mightpensate for the loss of his eye and his bravery in protecting their father.


    Aemond, hearing the dagger was for him, yed with it lovingly, his eyes shining with admiration.


    Valyrian weapons! Ten years ago, House Targaryen possessed only three:


    The family sword, ckfyre, Dark Sister, and a dragon horn dagger always carried by his father.


    Even now, only Rhaegar, the eldest brother, wields a sword and spear, while the two sisters each have a sword.


    Aemond smiled, imagining himself showing off to Aegonter.


    "All right, I''ll be right back." With his brother''s orders in mind, Aemond left the house with a fierce and threatening air about him. Someone would have to pay for his lost eye.


    As soon as Aemond left, the atmosphere in the bedroom subtly changed. Daemon''s gaze drifted to the Dark Sister at Rhaenys'' waist and he smacked his lips. That had been his sword, a gift from his grandfather Jaehaerys.


    "It''s time to scour the Free Cities and find a weapon worthy of my status," Daemon mused to himself.


    Rhaenys, not caring about him, turned to her nephew and asked, "After you return your father to King''s Landing, what will you do about Dorne?"


    Sunspear had fallen, and Prince Qoren was dead. As always, Dorne would not easily submit.


    Rhaegar looked directly at his aunt and said suddenly, "I am deeply sorry that Laenor was killed."


    Rhaenys clenched her fists, a wave of grief and anger washing over her. Dorne!


    Hearing this, Daemon refocused, watching his nephew with interest. He hade to Dorne to avoid boredom on the Narrow Sea, joining his cousin in battle.


    He hadn''t won any significant victories, but he had enjoyed the opportunity topensate for taking Tyrosh in front of his brother.


    "Haha," Daemon chuckled, eager to see what his nephew would say next.


    Ignoring him, Rhaegar stared out the window, expressionless. "Father was almost killed. The only reason the Dornish nobles dared to rebel is that the Targaryens have not been ruthless enough."


    Many Dornish nobles had been forced into submission during the First Dornish War. Even those who refused had secretly colluded withmoners against the Iron Throne.


    Rhaenys''s heart sank. She hesitated before asking, "What do you want to do?"


    "What else can we do?" Rhaegar responded rhetorically, then smiled.


    Rhaenys, Daemon, and Hena all noticed something was off in his demeanor.


    Rhaegar''s smile faded. His gaze shifted from the window to the three people in the room. "I want to recreate the Dragon''sWroth!" he dered.

 Chapter 451: Dragon’s Wroth

    Chapter 451: Dragon��s Wroth


    The words were simple, yet their artiction conveyed an unyielding cold determination.


    "Dragon''s Wroth!?"


    Rhaenys was stunned and instinctively reached for Dark Sister. Hena quickly lowered her head, haunted by visions of bloodshed.


    Dragon''s Wroth!


    It wasn''t just a phrase or a description of a normal event. It harkened back to the First War of Dorne when Queen Rhaenys fell at Hellholt. In their grief, the Conqueror and Queen Visenya unleashed a brutal and inhumane massacre. Riding Balerion and Vhagar, they attacked all of Dorne without warning, burning every castle and vige.


    Any resistance was reduced to ashes by the Dragonfire. Whether inhabited or not, all farnd, wells, and oases were destroyed. This Dragon''s Wrothsted for two whole years, leaving not a single castle standing in Dorne, nor a single piece of arablend. The death toll was incalcble.


    "The Dornish dared to assassinate my father. They wanted the Dragon''s Wroth, and they will get it," Rhaegar dered, his eyes as sharp as a hawk''s. "Let the world see the glory of ancient Valyria."


    "Dragon''s Wroth," Daemon repeated, his eyes showing interest, his mouth curling into a smile. "If they want my brother''s life, they''ll have to pay with more lives."


    An eye for an eye, a life for a life. This suited Daemon''s tough personality perfectly. Rhaegar nced at him but said nothing.


    "Daemon, you should stop for now," Rhaenys whispered a rebuke, her eyes fixed on her unusually calm nephew. "Rhaegar, the war in Dorne is to put down a rebellion. Don''t forget the original purpose of the war!"


    The root of all evil was Qoren''s selfishness. He had already been punished, and the war should not be allowed to continue unnecessarily.


    Rhaegar replied calmly, "Aunt, the war has been going on for months. Do you still remember why it started?"


    "Of course," Rhaenys responded immediately. "The Smoking Sea Wild Dragon, Morghul!"


    The cause of the war wasn''t Braavos, Dorne, or Rhaegar and Daemon trying to invade. It was Lys, who captured Morghul, and the Triarchy making aeback.


    "Then why did the Triarchy fall, and why did the battlefield expand to Dorne?" Rhaegar continued.


    Rhaenys hesitated, "Qoren was afraid of the Targaryen expansion of power. He had always had close ties with Braavos and the Triarchy."


    It was said that Aliandra, who was burned to death by Dreamfyre, had been betrothed to the son of the Sealord of Braavos.


    "No," Rhaegar shook his head, smiling. "Human desires are like rolling stones. Once they start, they can''t be stopped."


    "Whether it''s the Triarchy, the Sealord of Braavos, or Qoren, they all covet the power of House Targaryen and seek to suppress and annihte thest remaining Dragonlord family."


    "The Triarchy coveted Morghul, Braavos hid dragon eggs, and Qoren took advantage of the situation to invade the Stornds and The Reach," Rhaegar exined. "They are like vultures circling over the Targaryens, waiting for the moment when the dragons are weak."


    Daemon pped lightly, approving. Despite Rhaegar''s lengthy exnation, Daemon supported the idea of ruthlessly eliminating their enemies.


    Rhaenys red at Daemon and sighed helplessly. "The Conqueror unleashed the Dragon''s Wroth but failed to conquer Dorne, sowing hatred for generations. The Iron Throne wants to rule, not govern a territory of ashes."


    In short, she did not approve of another Dragon''s Wroth. Such an act would drag the kingdom into a swamp of war, with enough lives already lost.


    Rhaegar''s resolve remained firm. "War can bring peace. Hatred exists only because we are not strong enough," he stated, standing up and looking directly into his aunt''s eyes. "Don''t forget, Laenor died in this war. How can I honor his memory and all the soldiers who died?"


    "My son," Rhaenys''s hand trembled as she gripped her sword, her sore spot struck. She couldn''t ept her son''s death and harbored hatred for Dorne. However, with the war already moved to Dorne, she knew it shouldn''t be expanded further.


    Rhaegar walked to the window and looked at the dragons circling over Yronwood. "The Conquerors had only three dragons, but we have many more," he said.


    The three others in the room watched him intently.


    Rhaegar''s expression grew stern, and he spoke quickly: "We have Cannibal, Dreamfyre, Caraxes, Meleys, Sheepstealer, and Sunfyre��six dragons in all."


    He continued, "We also have Seasmoke, who has lost his rider, Vermithor, who was driven back to Dragonstone, and even Vhagar, who patrols The Gullet."


    "In Dorne, we have far more dragons at our disposal than the Conquerors did. The first six dragons have all experienced battle."


    He finished in one breath, assessing their strength. In the Conqueror''s era, Balerion was only slightly older than the Cannibal, and Vhagar and Meraxes wereparable to the current Caraxes and the other dragons. With the Cannibal leading the way and Dreamfyre almost reaching adulthood, the three prime-aged dragons, including Sheepstealer, were already stronger than the original three.


    Daemon''s eyes shone with excitement, eager to start the battle. Rhaenys hesitated, weighing the pros and cons.


    Knock, knock!


    The door opened, and Cole entered, looking grim as he handed over a letter. "A ckhaven letter," he said.


    "Open it," Rhaegar nodded.


    Cole tore open the envelope and read quickly. "The garrison at ckhaven, numbering 1,000 men, was attacked by the House Wyl at night. The castle suffered heavy losses, with only one in ten soldiers surviving."


    "What about Lord Symon?" Rhaegar asked.


    Cole turned the page, his expression softening slightly. "Lord Simon was besieged by the enemy who invaded the castle, but the guards arrived in time. Lord Simon personally killed two men from Dorne."


    An old man, who normally had difficulty walking, proved more powerful than a young man when fighting for his life.


    Hearing this, Rhaegar shook his head andughed. Yronwood had been ambushed, and ckhaven''s garrison was depleted, making an attack inevitable. It was a relief that Lord Simon managed to hold them off.


    After signaling Cole to leave, Rhaegar turned to Rhaenys again and said bluntly, "Aunt, what is there to hesitate about?"


    The king was almost killed in Yronwood. ckhaven, which guards the Boneway, almost fell. You are kind-hearted, but the people of Dorne only want to see you dead.


    Rhaenys understood the stakes. She took a deep breath and said, "You''re right. Human desires are like rolling rocks. We have no choice!"


    Rhaegar smiled.


    Hena stood up clumsily, put her arms around his, and whispered, "I''ll help you."


    "Haha," Daemonughed, but his eyes were cold and full of vengeance.


    Dorne, prepare to face the Dragon''s Wroth.


    ...


    Time flew by, and a weekter, Vermithor, temporarily without a rider, returned to Dragonstone to hibernate. Viserys, still in aa, was escorted back to King''s Landing. The Cargyll brothers also departed, leaving Cole behind to continue leading the troops.


    Donald led 15,000 Riverrun forces to Yronwood, took control of the town, and sealed off the Boneway. Everything was proceeding in an orderly manner.


    Sunspear.


    "Roar..."


    Under the blue sky, six dragons of varying sizes spread their wings and soared, spewing dragonfire hotter than the scorching summer heat.


    On the west side of the old pce, in the densely popted Shadow City, more than 10,000 Dornish civilians gathered. Their eyes were filled with resentment as they cowered in the dirty, poorly lit shadow area.


    In the midst of all the attention, a tform more than ten feet high had been built. An iron cage and dozens of spears adorned the stage. The spears were stuck into the eyes of the dead, and a naked, armless man was locked in the iron cage. It was Harmen Uller.


    Harmen had lost an arm in the dragonfire, and half of his body was badly burned. After a week of captivity, his eyes were zed, and he was curled up on his side, huddled in the narrow confines of the cage like a dog. The cage was suspended from a gallows, ensuring that all the people of Dorne could see him.


    Daemon stood on a high tform, signaling for the cage to be lowered. Soldiers dragged Harmen Uller out like a dead dog.


    "No! No!" Harmen screamed, on the verge of a nervous breakdown. "I''m innocent! I''m innocent!"


    His gray eyes involuntarily nced at the heads impaled on the spears. Many of them had gray pupils, and all bore hideous, blood-stained features.


    "Be good!" The soldiers punched and kicked him, pulling his hair and dragging him.


    Daemon looked down at the man who had almost killed his brother, forcing him to look at the heads on the spears. He smiled and said, "Take a good look. Your sons, your family, the old and the weak of House Uller��they''re all watching you."


    House Uller was almostpletely wiped out. Only Harmen Uller remained.


    Harmen shook his head, his fat jiggling. "I''m innocent! I want to y the dragon..." he shouted deliriously. He still saw himself as a dragon yer reviving his ancestors'' glory. Those who were tortured and killed in front of him couldn''t be his children and house members. No, definitely not...


    "Don''t waste your breath. He''s already dead," Rhaegar said, stepping onto the tform with murderous intent in his eyes.


    The soldiers saluted, and Harmen Uller was dragged up to the gallows, a rope around his neck. Daemon watched with bored indifference.


    Rhaegar was joined on stage by Mors of Kingsgrave and Qyle Martell, the five-year-old son of thete Prince of Dorne.


    Rhaegar looked down at themoners of Dorne and announced that Qyle would be named the new Prince of Dorne in the name of the Iron Throne, with House Martell bowing to the Iron Throne. Mors was appointed Regent of Sunspear, the Desert Warden throughout Dorne and the Prince''s Pass Warden in the Red Mountains.


    From now on, Dorne would be formally under Targaryen rule.


    Rhaegar crossed his arms. "It''s your turn," he said.


    Qyle''s face froze. He walked slowly to the front of the stage, trembling. "In the name of the Prince of Dorne, I dere that the rebellion in Dorne is over. Any nobles ormoners who disobey will be surrounded and suppressed throughout the territory," he proimed.


    Mors, embracing his role as a "loyal subject," raised the spear symbolizing House Martell and shouted for peace. The Dornishmoners remained silent, dazed by the scene. Especially young Qyle. They still wished to fight to the death, wondering why their prince surrendered first.


    Rhaegar remained calm, knowing the consequences of this decision. House Martell had ruled Dorne for a thousand years and had deep roots. Dorne was doomed to lose to the Targaryens, especially after Sunspear, the seat of House Martell, fell into the hands of the Iron Throne.


    Despite resistance, the Dornish nobles andmoners would eventually surrender, if not out of fear, then in the name of survival.


    Qyle and Mors stepped back at Rhaegar''s signal.


    Aemond, now bearing the nickname "One-Eyed," presented Rhaegar with a hammer and a silver dagger. The dagger had been named the One-Eyed Dagger, a constant reminder of the hard-won battle.


    Rhaegar took the hammer and dagger and approached the hanging Harmen Uller.


    "No! No..." Harmen''s terrified cries echoed as Rhaegar swung the hammer high and brought it down hard on his chest.


    Pop! The entire chest cavity shattered, bones caving in, and the blow nearly pierced through him. The hammerhead became embedded in the bone, making it impossible to pull out.


    "Ho ho..." Harmen''s face turned ck and blue, blood oozing from his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose. He gasped for breath, his trachea blowing up the broken lungs, creating a series of blood blisters on his chest.


    "The House Uller is finished. I warned you," Rhaegar said calmly, wiping his hands without any sign of excitement from avenging his family. He then pulled out the One-Eyed Dagger and cut the rope holding the gallows.


    Plop! Harmen fell with a thud, the rope around his neck tightening, cutting off his breath. In a desperate sh, his legs kicked violently. After a dozen seconds, he fell still.


    Rhaegar watched the entire scene, maintaining hisposure throughout.


    Hum... The One-Eyed Dagger glowed faintly, and a loud dragon roar seemed to emanate from within. Then, a bright light shot out, splitting into two andnding in the palms of Rhaegar and Aemond. Rhaegar noticed the phenomenon, but no one else did. When he raised his hand, there was no visible pattern, but his blood flow seemed to increase slightly, as if it had be more sensitive to the scent of a dragon.


    Rhaegar nodded to himself, tossed the dagger back to Aemond, and turned away from the Dornish civilians who had witnessed the execution. Without looking back, he dered, "The Dornish nobles have rebelled. ept the request of Prince Qyle and suppress the rebellion throughout the territory!"


    As soon as he finished speaking, the six dragons raised their heads and roared, their fangs bared as they danced in the sky.

 Chapter 452: A Sacrificial Altar? No, It’s a Blood Sacrifice to a Dragon Mountain

    Chapter 452: A Sacrificial Altar? No, It��s a Blood Sacrifice to a Dragon Mountain


    After this day, a shadow fell over Dorne, casting a pall across the Red Mountains and Boneway.


    "Run! Get into the tunnel!"


    "Wait for me..."


    Hundreds of Dornish soldiers, armed with bows and arrows, cried out in distress as they fled in panic along the steep cliffs.


    Roar...


    A scarlet dragon shadow flew past, apanied by amanding female voice: "Dracarys!"


    Meleys, swift as lightning, unleashed her Dragonfire.


    At that moment, a younger voice echoed: "Dracarys!"


    "Roar..."


    A light blue dragon swooped down, and the orange and blue Dragonfire cascaded like a waterfall.


    Hena''s eyes were serious and determined as she performed her task with precision. The Dorne soldiers, unable to reach the tunnel in time, were incinerated in moments.


    Rhaenys, exultant, shouted, "To Wyl! Burn theirir to the ground!"


    Meleys roared, leaving a red afterimage as she sped away. Hena, not to be outdone, pped Dreamfyre''s wings and followed close behind.


    The two, steadfast and relentless, pressed on with unwavering resolve.


    ...


    The Broken Arm, Ghost Hill


    The low, sandy brick castle and the sprawling, disordered town stretching for miles marked the fiefdom of House Tnd.


    Suddenly, a deafening roar pierced the air.


    "Dracarys!" Daemon, d in ck steel armor and wearing a defiant expression, looked down at the city below.


    Caraxes''s pupils gleamed with cruelty as the serpent-like dragon descended upon the town, spewing Dragonfire from its maw.


    "No! Run!"


    "The dragon ising..."


    The civilians of Ghost Hill screamed in terror, fleeing the town in a desperate attempt to escape the fiery destruction.


    "Haha," Daemonughed from atop Caraxes, directing the dragon with ease. Having mastered the binding spell, he no longer needed to shout to control the dragon, their bond now seamless.


    Caraxes slowly crawled, its scarlet wings like two bloodthirsty scythes, harvesting lives with every passing moment. Dragons are merciless, and Daemon even more so.


    Half a month ago, after a new prince was elected at Sunspear, it was dered that Dorne would be brought under the rule of the Iron Throne. Rhaegar issued a decree: those who willingly submitted would be relocated to Skyreach, Yronwood, and Sunspear. The Iron Throne would provide food and living space, concentrating the poption to strengthen management.


    And the rebels? Every inch of Dorne that the dragon flew over would be burned to the ground, leaving no castles or viges.


    "Roar..." Caraxes slithered across the ground, its massive form dominating thendscape.


    Aemond, his left eye now healed and covered with an eye patch, shouted, "Dracarys, ugly beast!"


    Sheepstealer swooped down with a sideways nce, spreading brown dragonfire across the city like a stain.


    In a matter of moments, half of Ghost Hill was engulfed in smoke. Aemond, adjusting his eye patch - a ck cloth held in ce by two straps, one of which his sister had embroidered with a peaceful blue flower - looked down at the scene.


    "Roar..." Sheepstealer performed a somersault, gliding close to the ground. Its ws snatched a Dorne soldier, tossing him into the air before biting him in half. Blood and flesh sttered Aemond''s face.


    Unfazed, Aemond wiped his face slowly, maintaining hisposure. "Dracarys," hemanded calmly.


    He was now a mature Targaryen, not one to be easily disturbed.


    "Roar..." Sheepstealer, seemingly surprised by Aemond''s newfound maturity, continued its charge.


    Below, Caraxes wreaked havoc. The archers of Ghost Hill organized a counterattack, unleashing a dense rain of arrows.


    Crackling... Caraxes shielded herself with a wing, then unleashed a torrent of dragonfire. The screams of the archers were quickly silenced as they were consumed by the mes.


    "Roar!" Caraxes, growing bored, pped its wings and ascended, its body winding like a serpent.


    Daemon, seizing the moment, yelled at Aemond, "Hurry up! We need to burn down Tor by this afternoon."


    Aemond, ncing over his single eye, urged Sheepstealer to intensify its efforts.


    Daemon grinned as the dragon continued its fiery rampage against the fleeing Dornish people. This nephew of his was proving to be quite promising, just as he liked.


    ...


    In the south of Dorne, at Hellholt, the sky was overcast, and the desert wind blew fiercely, raising a dark sandstorm. The sand and gravel rolled across thendscape, revealing the broken and dried bones of the dead. As the wind and sand intensified, the sky darkened further, and the air was filled with the smell of death.


    Tapping...


    A Dornish soldier, his face pale and covered in blood, ran out of the dust, his pupils dted in fear.


    Plop.


    The soldier copsed to the ground, sand covering his mouth and nose. He shook violently, his mouth and tongue dry with thirst, on the verge of death.


    "Monster... monster..." he murmured, his breath getting weaker, his eyes staring back in the direction he hade from. He died with his eyes wide open.


    Through the swirling sand, arge shadow approached.


    "Ah! Don''t kill me, don''t..." came the sounds of wailing, pleading, and gnashing of teeth. The desert was stained red with blood, and severed limbsy scattered about, emitting a strong stench.


    Arge bannery buried in the sand, depicting three ck scorpions on a red background - the sigil of House Qorgyle of Sandstone, a noble house known for their insidious, cunning nature and expertise with poison, much like the desert scorpions.


    "Roar..."


    A gust of wind swept through, intensifying the sandstorm. A dark figure tore through the chaos. Dark as coal scales, green vertical pupils��the Cannibal. Its appearance was terrifying, with dark pupils like the abyss. Its dragon maw was stained with blood, chewing on something unknown.


    The dragon gulped down a mouthful, blood spilling from its fangs and running down its chin and neck. The dragon''s mouth twitched slightly, making it look even more sinister.


    Rhaegar sat on the dragon''s back, surveying the ground littered with flesh and blood. "This meat is very dirty. You must be really hungry," he remarked.


    "Roar!" The Cannibal''s pupils narrowed as itsrge wings pped, scattering dust. Its huge body soared into the sky, soon returning to Hellholt.


    "Roar..." Sunfyre danced through the air, spewing Dragonfire. Aegon, looking tired, yawned, relying on his dragon to do all the work.


    Meanwhile, Ormund Hightower led his troops to defend the city. After upying Hellholt for nearly a month, they faced constant attacks from civilians, including assassination attempts and poisoning. Troops from Sandstone in the west and Vaith in the east harassed them continuously.


    It was clear that reinforcements had arrived.


    Roar!


    Cannibal descended from the sky, and a torrent of dark green Dragonfire, as intense as a volcanic eruption, sted the gates of Hellholt.


    The Dragonfire was searingly hot and highly corrosive, melting the gates at a visible rate. The Cannibal continued its onught, spreading Dragonfire over half of Hellholt.


    The castle, reeking of death, was reduced to ashes, indifferent to the cries of the people within.


    By dusk, the impregnable Hellholt had vanished without a trace,pletely erased from history. All that remained on the banks of the Brimstone were solidified magma and sand-ss.


    Ormund stood rigid, eyes fixed on the sight of the disappearing castle and town. Rhaegarnded his dragon and nced at him casually. Ormund immediately straightened his back, adopting the demeanor of a wooden man who could neither speak nor move, his fear of Rhaegar''s cruel methods palpable.


    Rhaegarughed. This was nowhere near the end.


    He stopped the drowsy Aegon and addressed Ormund, "Sandstone and Vaith have been reduced to ashes. Remember to send someone to transport the remains of the nobles and knights to Yronwood."


    "Yes, Prince!" Ormund shouted, not daring to neglect a single detail.


    Rhaegar pointed his spear at Aegon and lectured him, "Return to the Greenblood River tomorrow. The minor nobles by the river are eager to die."


    Aegon shivered, snapping to attention. "Yes."


    He was genuinely afraid of Rhaegar at that moment. Despite Rhaegar''s gentle smile, his determination to carry out the Dragon''s Wroth to the end was unmistakable.


    The Cannibal alone had burned three castles and destroyed countless fields. Rhaegar just smiled, even feeling inclined to pat Aegon on the head.


    He, Rhaenys, and Daemon had split into three groups, each apanied by a younger sibling, to elerate the Dragon''s Wroth while minimizing idents. Rebellion was spreading throughout Dorne, with countless supporters. However, no castle or vige was left standing.


    The Sea Snake controlled the Greenblood River and the sea routes of the lower half of the Narrow Sea, blocking overseas reinforcements such as those from Braavos. The Prince''s Pass waspletely sealed off and temporarily under the jurisdiction of The Reach. The Boneway was still troubled by House Wyl, but Rhaenys and Hena were expected to handle them.


    Once the blockade n was fully implemented, Dorne would be cut off from the outside world. Dragon''s Wroth destroyed everything, trapping the Dornish rebelspletely.


    Resist, and you will all die.


    ...


    In the blink of an eye, a month had passed.


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    Six dragons danced and intertwined in the sky.


    Below, the Scourge and Vaith rivers converged, and the semi-ruined city of Godsgracey deste.


    Amid the ruins, Lord Allyrion stood dazed, supported by two of his men, barely conscious.


    He was the Lord of Godsgrace, now reduced to rubble.


    Roar!


    Caraxes swooped down, his de-like tail slicing through the three men��s heads.


    "Dracarys!" Daemon ordered nonchntly.


    Caraxes, brimming with energy, unleashed a torrent of Dragonfire, reducing the three corpses to ashes.


    "Roar!"


    "Roar..."


    The other five dragons soared above, hunting down the Dornish men attempting to flee and pouring out their fury.


    Rhaegar��s eyes were full of murderous intent as he set about destroying the farnd and docks along the river.


    The Dragon��s Wroth was in full force. House Allyrion of Godsgrace was the first to surrender, bowing to the Iron Throne.


    A few days prior, Lord Allyrion had secretly supported the Dornish rebels in the desert with food and maintained covert contact with Qyle Martell of Sunspear. This treachery did not go unnoticed. Tormund and Syrio, experts in intelligence, along with the Sea Snake, thoroughly investigated Allyrion''s actions.


    Just as Rhaegar and the others finished the first wave of Dragon��s Wroth and returned to Yronwood to regroup, House Allyrion in Godsgrace ran into the dragon��s fury. They became the first house in Westeros to endure the siege of six dragons.


    In a twisted way, they made history, though it cost them their family.


    After the ruins of Godsgrace were cleared, the bodies of Lord Allyrion and his Knights were collected and taken away.


    Rhaegar drove the Cannibal to burn the Godsgrace into rock, while Daemon and the others rode their dragons back to Yronwood


    Two monthster, Yronwood had undergone a drastic transformation.


    All civilians had been relocated, leaving behind an empty, deste city. Broken walls and debris were left uncollected, with more rubble piling up. Stones were heaped into dense mountains.


    When Rhaegarnded, Cole was directing soldiers to carry bodies into the city, piling them next to the stone heaps. There were many bodies, at least a thousand, hacked to death, burned to ashes, and everything in between.


    Rhaenys frowned and asked, "Rhaegar, what do you want with the remains of these nobles and knights?"


    She worried her nephew was dabbling in some evil blood magic. Daemon, Hena, and the others also stared at Rhaegar, their eyes full of curiosity.


    Rhaegar did not hide his intentions. "I want to build a Dragon Mountain. Dragon dung is too far away to transport, and these noble corpses are better."


    The raw material for Dragonstone was typically the byproduct of dragons, even their dung. Without these, flesh and blood could serve as a substitute. Dorne was now part of Targaryen territory, so it was only fitting to leave a Targaryen symbol behind.


    Nothing would be more meaningful than a Dragon Mountain, especially one infused with the flesh and blood of countless Dornish nobles who had rebelled against Targaryen rule.


    He wanted to remind all of Dorne how the Targaryens conquered it, and what fate awaited rebels.

 Chapter 453: Oldtown Should Fend For Itself

    Chapter 453: Oldtown Should Fend For Itself


    Rhaegar tied back his long hair and reminded them, "Without my help, you''ll have to get involved."


    His men had very little experience with magic. Tru was in Oldtown, and it was hard to discern loyalties in Lys.


    Aemond was the first to raise his hand, saying enthusiastically, "I''ll do it. Dorne should remember blood and fire." Dorne was his greatest enemy, and he had paid the price of an eye for it.


    Hena raised her hand silently, avoiding the sight of the corpses.


    Aegon nced at his siblings and smiled as he stepped forward. How could he miss out on such an opportunity?


    Daemon and Rhaenys exchanged a nce, nodding in agreement. They recognized that the battlefield in Dorne was not under their control, and their nephew''s request carried more weight than any reprimand from Viserys. Besides, Dorne needed a lesson.


    Rhaegar nodded with satisfaction as he looked around. "Very good. In the next few months, let Dorne feel the full aftereffects of the Dragon''s Wroth."


    At hismand, arge number of corpses were transported into the city. Rhaegar shared the Dragonstone Spell with them, enlightening each one to feel the magic in their blood.


    The idea of teaching this magic had been around for a long time, but it had been dyed for various reasons. Conquering Dorne presented the perfect opportunity.


    The Targaryens had never been so united, transforming into a full-fledged Dragonlord House. How can a Dragonlord who doesn''t know the ways of a bloodmage be called a Dragonlord?


    ...


    Yronwood, a Month Later


    Time had flown by, and Yronwood, once a bustling city, was now a deste wastnd covered in rubble and corpses. At first nce, it resembled a vision of hell.


    Outside the crumbled city walls, arge number of soldiers from The Reach gathered to guard a camp that stretched for miles along the Boneway.


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    On this day, six dragons flew out of the camp, chasing each other and snorting. The ck wings covered the sky, the scarlet dragon was as fast as lightning, and the pale blue scales blended into the blue sky. Among them, an ugly mud dragon stood out against the backdrop of the other magnificent and fierce dragons. It was unmistakably unique.


    The dragons slowly descended, resembling six mountains of different sizes taking root.


    Six figures in red robes stepped down from the backs of the dragons and gathered together. One of them removed his hood, revealing a delicate, paper-pale face.


    Rhaegar, in his Dragonborn form with a horn protruding from his forehead, took out a ss candle as he always did.


    "It''s been almost a month since the first round of Dragon''s Wroth ended. It''s time to give the people of Dorne some memories," he said, inserting the Truefyre at his waist into the ground. The red heart of me at the end of his sword''s hilt glowed in unison with the ss candle.


    "Let''s get started," Daemon said impatiently, removing his hood, his eyes full of curiosity. He had learned the binding spell early on and didn''t want his nephew to know more. Dragonstone was a strategic-level blood magic.


    Rhaegar''s expression was indifferent. He took onest look at Yronwood and said to himself, "Next time we meet, we''ll call it the Dragonlord Altar."


    He ced the ss candle at his feet.


    Pop! The ss wick of the candle emitted a me, swaying in a strange arc. As if receiving a signal, the dragons became instantly restless.


    "Roar!" Cannibal''s green pupils were menacing as it soared into the sky, spitting Dragonfire at the ruined town. The other five dragons followed suit, hovering over the ruins and spewing Dragonfire in unison.


    Boom! Boom! Wood and oil had been ced in the ruins beforehand, and after detonation, the fire intensified. In the blink of an eye, the entire ruined town was engulfed in mes again, repeating the tragedy of the dragons burning the city.


    Rhaegar''s eyes shone brightly as he silently recited a strange incantation. Daemon and the others did not hesitate, gathering together to chant after him.


    From a high vantage point, the six of them looked less like the royal family of the Targaryens and more like a group of red sorcerers from beyond the Narrow Sea.


    A magical scene unfolded. As the incantation was spoken, the stone lit by the Dragonfire melted into a liquid, engulfing the remains of the Dornish nobles and knights that had piled up, solidifying into ck Dragonstone. Wherever the Cannibal passed, the dark green Dragonfire engulfed everything, and the materials changed inposition at a speed visible to the naked eye.


    Truefyre was nted diagonally in the ground, and the fiery red heart at the end of its tail absorbed the fire magic, causing the mes to grow. The ss candle glowed with a rainbow of colors.


    Before they knew it, the sky darkened. The pungent smell of ashes filled the air, and the scorching wind blew. Rhaegar remained calm, using his abundant fire magic to control the formation of the ck Dragonstone.


    The fire spread, engulfing the entire town. Gradually, it became night. The fire illuminated the darkness, and the smell of sulfur spread for miles.


    ...


    Seven Days and Nights Later


    The weather was clear, and clouds driftedzily across the sky.


    At the exit of the Boneway, the once-majestic city of Yronwood had transformed into something out of a dream.


    "Roar!"


    A ck dragon soared through the sky, circling around a conspicuous coal-ck mountain. Behind it, several dragons of various colors followed, surrounding the "coal mountain."


    It was a towering, steep, grotesque peak. ck and ominous, it stood alone in the desert, its shape resembling a crouching dragon, its surface covered with rough ck stone that looked like obsidian scales. At the base of the mountain were the remnants of the original castle, now dwarfed by the towering formation that reached a height of 1,500 feet. At the top, a dragon-like neck stretched out, topped by a ferocious dragon head.


    At that moment, the ck dragon slowed down, pped its wings, andnded, gripping the steep mountain with its hind legs. The dragon''s neck stretched out, and its head rested just above the ck stone dragon''s head.


    "Cannibal, you''re blocking the view," Rhaegar smiled, sitting on the edge of the ckstone Dragon''s snout, the cool wind whistling around him.


    Hena, wrapped in her loose red robe,y sleeping on her brother''sp. Aemond, full of envy, leaned back against Rhaegar, taking out his dagger and showing it off to Aegon, who looked down on him with contempt. Daemon and Rhaenys, the elders, dodged the sudden downward pressure of the Cannibal and stood on the horned throne, looking down.


    "It''s like a miracle, if you hadn''t seen it with your own eyes," Rhaenys said, still in a daze, unable to recover from the shock of shaping a giant mountain.


    Rhaegar pinched Hena''s cheek and said with a smile, "Compared to building a castle, a Dragon Mountainis much simpler. All you need to do is prepare the supplies, and you don''t have to worry about nning."


    "Roar..." A shrill neighing came from the mountainside. Caraxes''s snake-like neck stretched out as it slowly crawled out of a cave. All over the mountain,rge and small holes were exposed, forming a natural dragon''sir. From the outside, it looked like a giant ck dragon had fallen to earth and turned into a giant peak to feed its offspring.


    In both substance and appearance, it far surpassed the Dragonpit in King''s Landing and the Dragon''s Lair on the Isle of Faces. It was a truly amazing work that transcended the ages.


    Daemon''s eyes lit up, and he mused, "This is just the tip of the iceberg of ancient Valyria. What a great ce it must have been in its prime."


    When he and Laena traveled around the Free Cities, he had delved into the libraries to read about the Dragonlords of ancient Valyria. Thousands of dragons, forty Dragonlord families. During the War of the Rhoyne, 300 dragons burned the Rhoyne, known as the "Mother River," to a cinder.


    Rhaegar smiled and said, "The Targaryens will have magic from now on. As long as there are no problems within the family, Valyria''s glory will be restored sooner orter."


    It took the forty Dragonlord families thousands of years to conquer the western part of the continent of Essos. House Targaryen has nopetitors, and now they have the entire continent of Westeros. All they need is stability and long-term development.


    Daemon''s smile was filled with ambition. "I can''t wait to get started." After seeing the resources of the top Dragonlord family, his horizons had quickly broadened. A small Tyrosh no longer seemed as satisfying as it had at first.


    As he spoke, amotion erupted on the Dragon Mountain.


    A messenger, sweating profusely, clung to the steep ckstone Dragon''s neck, his wordsden with urgency: "Prince, news from Oldtown: Starfall and ckmont are attacking the defenses of The Arbor, with the intention of striking Oldtown itself."


    Rhaegar remained silent, ncing at Daemon.


    Daemon, with a knowing smile, said nothing, his hands sped in front of his chest as he observed the scene. His eyes lingered teasingly on his niece, wrapped up like a red caterpir.


    "Oldtown?" Before Rhaegar could respond, Aegon interjected, his face turning red with irritation. "We haven''t overlooked Oldtown. What''s the rush?"


    The messenger looked embarrassed and replied, "The Casten of Oldtown sent a message. Lord Ormund requests that the royal family destroy Starfall and ckmont to ensure the safety of Oldtown."


    Aegon, extremely irritated, retorted, "The war in Dorne is already chaotic, and my father hasn''t even addressed it. Now Oldtown wants toplicate things?"


    Rhaegar, surprised, thought to himself, "Has my brother finally grown a backbone?" Then he remembered Hightower''s forced marriage to Aegon and understood his anger.


    The messenger, frightened, fell silent.


    Rhaegar waved his hand dismissively, "Go on. I will protect Oldtown if ites to that."


    Having personally burned Starfall and ckmont, Rhaegar knew the reality. Oldtown would hold out for a while longer. He would intervene at the crucial moment.


    The relieved messenger descended the mountain as if pardoned.


    The first wave of Dragon''s Wroth had swept across Dorne, and the crown prince had used the remains of the Dornish people to build a monstrous peak, darkening House Targaryen''s reputation.


    The name Rhaegar Targaryen was now known throughout Dorne, instilling fear and respect.


    "Hmm..." Hena, awakened by the noise, curled up and said, "Brother, the news of Dragon Mountain will spread back to Dorne."


    Rhaegar tugged at her cheeks. "And?"


    "You might be branded a cruel man," she mumbled, half-asleep.


    Rhaegarughed. "Dragon''s Wroth was the conqueror''s first act. Don''t forget how many died in those mes of anger."


    History is written by the victors. Maegor was called cruel not just for his insane behavior but because he lost his life. Rhaegar intended never to lose.


    He patted Hena''s waist. "Wake up. The people of Dorne haven''t learned their lesson and are ready for the second wave of Dragon''s Wroth."


    The gentleness in his tone contrasted sharply with his intentions.


    Hena shivered and quickly got up.


    Rhaenys interrupted, "What about Oldtown? Lord Ormund has already asked for help."


    "I will step in when the timees," Rhaegar replied, revealing his n. "My father was attacked and is still recovering. Dorne hasn''t paid enough."


    He wanted to continue the killing until no one in Dorne could resist, until the mention of the Iron Throne made their knees weak.


    "Let''s go," Rhaegarmanded, riding on the Cannibal. "There have been movements in Boneway and Sunspear. If we don''t act, resistance will burst forth like a spring."


    Oldtown, you should fend for itself. Next time I visit, I''ll settle some old scores.

 Chapter 454: Otto’s Guess Was Right

    Chapter 454: Otto��s Guess Was Right


    The Dragon Wroth reappeared, this news was spreading rapidly throughout the Seven Kingdoms.


    King''s Landing


    The city buzzed with rumors about how many Dornish people the heir prince had killed and the battles he had won. In Flea Bottom, the most chaotic district, orphans exaggeratedly described Dragon Mountain. Thetest rumor imed that countless Dornish people were buried under Dragon Mountain, their spirits rising up to avenge the suppression of the rebels.


    The people didn''t know whether the rumors were true, but they spread them regardless. They didn''t understand how the war between the Triarchy and the Kingdom broke out, or when it would end. They didn''t know why Dorne had rebelled.


    But they knew one thing.


    Rhaegar Targaryen was a brave warrior, and the Princes of Dorne, House Martell, had surrendered. Dorne had finally submitted to the Iron Throne.


    The seven kingdoms of Westeros were now all firmly under the Targaryen dynasty.


    ...


    The Red Keep


    The King''s Bedroom


    The royal guards stood guard at the door, peering in through the open door. Viserysy unconscious on the bed, his face pale and his forehead glistening with cold sweat.


    "Viserys, are you all right?" Alicent sat by the bed, wringing out a wet towel to wipe away his sweat, and called softly, "Wake up, your servants are waiting for you."


    "..." Viserys frowned, his face showing difort at the noise.


    Alicent, visibly worried, couldn''t help butin, "I told you not to go on that campaign, but you wouldn��t listen."


    After muttering for a long time, she packed up the basin and got up. Before leaving, she pleaded helplessly, "Get better soon, the kingdom needs you."


    She left the room with the basin.


    Outside the Door


    Lyonel looked grave and asked in a low voice, "Your Grace still shows no sign of recovery?"


    "No." Alicent shook her head and sighed, "Since returning to King��s Landing, he has been in a daze, and he has been in aa more often than he has been awake."


    "This is not good news," Lyonel said, frowning.


    A house cannot be without a master for a day, and a kingdom cannot be without a king for a day. With Viserys in aa, the Small Council cannot function normally.


    Otto opened the door and changed the subject: "His Grace needs to rest. If there is anything we need to discuss, we can convene a Small Council meeting."


    Alicent, realizing the necessity, instructed the Kingsguard Lorent and Ser Steffon to watch over the bedchamber.


    Seeing this, Lyonel did not insist and suggested, "Then let''s move to the council hall and invite Princess Rhaenyra."


    Alicent, surprised, said, "Rhaenyra is seven months pregnant; it��s best not to disturb her."


    Rhaenyra had returned to King��s Landing from Dragonstone long before Viserys was brought back.


    Lyonel did not answer, instead looking at Grand Maester Orwyle.


    Orwyle nodded, "The Princess is in good health and can handle daily affairs."


    Alicent frowned slightly, sensing the unspoken implications. Rhaenyra dealing with royal affairs while Viserys rested on his sickbed and Rhaegar was on an expedition to Dorne weighed heavily on her.


    After thinking it over, Alicent found no reason to argue and swallowed her pride. "Fine, that''s it then."


    She turned to leave, giving the excuse that she needed to change her clothes.


    Otto nodded kindly at Lyonel and followed his daughter. Soon, father and daughter were out of sight.


    Lyonel and the others looked at each other and headed toward the council hall, whispering along the way.


    "His Grace''s poor health is not good for the kingdom."


    "Be careful what you say. His Grace will get better."


    "ording to my diagnosis, His Grace is suffering from shock, leading to post-traumatic stress disorder. There is nothing wrong with his body, just like a mild cold."


    "Targaryens don��t get colds, let alone faint from shock," Lyonel said with displeasure.


    Orwyle stopped and said seriously, "This is a result of both mind and body, not something herbs can cure."


    He didn��t appreciate having his skills as a healer questioned.


    "Sorry, I didn��t mean to doubt you," Lyonel realized he had overreacted.


    "It��s fine," Orwyle replied.


    The Mellos incident was too shocking, and it was inevitable that the position of Grand Maester would be scrutinized more closely.


    Lyonel sighed deeply, struggling internally before he spoke. "Gentlemen, His Grace has been in aa for a long time. We must prepare for the worst."


    "What kind of preparation?" Jasper''s interest piqued.


    Lyonel nced at him and said frankly, "Viserys is my king and my friend. I don''t want him to be in danger."


    He paused and continued, "But if he bes unable to handle the affairs of state or falls into a sleep from which he never wakes, there must be an heir ready to immediately take over the Iron Throne."


    "Wait a minute," Linman interrupted, his old face showing surprise. "We have the best heir to the throne, and he''s in Dorne. Prince Rhaegar has won many battles, and no one dares to cross him."


    Jasper shrugged,ughing to himself, recalling a near-targeting by the heir prince.


    "I understand, but times have changed," Lyonel said seriously. "Braavos watches the Narrow Sea, remnants of the Triarchy are vignt, and with Dorne rebelling, the kingdom is in chaos. It''s a precarious time for idents."


    The room fell silent, the gravity of Lyonel''s words sinking in. Finding a good heir wasn''t the problem��the Targaryens had lost two in a row. One was assassinated in his tent, and the other died of a bloated stomach.


    "I propose that we recall the heir prince to ensure a smooth session to the throne," Lyonel stated firmly.


    Linman hesitated. "The Prince is waging war against Dorne and has already begun the second wave of Dragon''s Wroth. How can he abandon that so easily?"


    "Lord Corlys is in charge of Sunspear, and with Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenys, Dorne won''t be able to cause much trouble for long," Lyonel argued.


    "No," Linman insisted. "The conquest of Dorne must bepleted by the heir prince and cannot be left to others."


    "If His Grace were to have an ident, the Prince must be here immediately," Lyonel countered.


    "Do you think someone would dare to do something foolish?" Linman asked, suddenly sharp.


    Lyonel''s silence spoke volumes.


    The group exchanged uneasy nces, knowing that in theory, the heir prince''s session was unchallenged. But the fear of someone losing their mind and tarnishing the royal family''s reputation lingered.


    Tormund, who had been silent, broke the tension with a smile. "Gentlemen, His Grace is only sleeping, not physically ill. Perhaps we are overreacting."


    "This is the proper preparation!" Lyonel responded, anxious.


    Ormund''s expression changed, his eyes turning white as he stared straight at Lyonel. "I am the Master of Whisperers. There will be no idents in the Red Keep."


    He stepped forward, his thin frame contrasting sharply with Lyonel''s. Lyonel swallowed, feeling the intensity of Ormund''s pale eyes.


    Ormund touched the Valyrian steel badge on his chest. "Or do you think Prince Rhaegar, the Young Dragonlord, is just a normal person?"


    "This..." Lyonel hesitated.


    Of course, Rhaegar was not normal. His mysterious nature was unparalleled. Valyrian steel weapons appeared at hismand, and he could create ck Dragonstone with simple spells. Thetest news imed he was molding a giant peak of Dragonstone at Yronwood, known as the Targaryen Dragonlord Altar.


    Tormund, exuding a dangerous aura, said, "If there is an ident in King''s Landing, I will inform the Prince immediately. Rhaegar instructed me to let nothing stop him from continuing the Dragon''s Wroth."


    The Red Keep was full of rats, but Tormund''s little birds had made their nests there. Lyonel, realizing the futility of his argument, nodded reluctantly, the other person is the prince''s right-hand man and a strange skinchanger, so he can be trusted.


    ...


    The Queen''s Chambers


    Bang!


    The door mmed shut, and Alicent, red-faced with anger, sat down in her chair without regard for her appearance. Humiliation, pure and simple! All three of her children were fighting in Dorne, never failing the Targaryens and the realm. Yet, the Small Council still targeted her, using Rhaenyra''s pregnancy to put her in her ce.


    Crack!


    The door opened, and Otto walked in. Alicent didn''t need to turn around to know who it was. She poured a ss of red wine and took a sip.


    Otto sat down across from her, his eyes deep in thought. "Fools waste their energy by getting angry, but the wise prepare for the future."


    Alicent, stunned, soon became angry. "Viserys is not dead yet. He will wake up sooner orter."


    "No one in this world can be sure they''ll see the next sunrise," Otto replied as if it were a trivial matter.


    Alicent was shaken and hesitated. "What can I do?"


    Otto smiled and exined patiently, "We can''t touch the throne. Lyonel and the others are probably discussing how to spy on you and me right now."


    He knew his colleague well. Lyonel was resourceful and reliable, but such people oftencked quick thinking and were impatient.


    Alicent sat up straight, listening to her father''s advice.


    Otto carefully took a cup from the tea tray. "Ormund sent me a message saying that the people of Dorne were harassing the Arbor and asking for Rhaegar''s help, but he refused."


    "How could that be?" Alicent looked anxious. "Dorne was ravaged by the so-called Dragon Wroth. How dare they threaten Oldtown? And Aegon and Aemond��Ormund is their great-uncle."


    Otto tapped his fingers lightly. "As far as I know, Rhaegar personally rode his dragon to burn down Starfall and ckmont. Compared to ces like Hellholt, these castles were only briefly burned, scattering their defenses."


    In the first round of Dragon Wroth, the soldiers in Dorne were unable to follow the dragons into battle due to therge span between the east and west of Dorne. Castles in remote locations like Sandstone were burned to the ground. For Vaith and other ind castles, not only were the castles destroyed, but the nobles who resisted were also captured and taken to Yronwood.


    Even though Starfall and ckmont are more remote, they should not be treated as mere formalities.


    Alicent suddenly realized, "Did Rhaegar do this on purpose?"


    "Probably," Otto analyzed. "The Dayne and ckmont Houses live along the river, with boats that go straight to The Summer Sea. Fearing the dragons, their first ce of retaliation would be Oldtown."


    "Something is wrong with House Dayne. They��ve been targeting Oldtown from the start. Their scouts have had unimpeded ess to the coastline of The Arbor and have repeatedly surveyed the harbor of Oldtown."


    "I knew they would retaliate!" Alicent panted. "What should we do? We can''t just stand by and watch Oldtown get destroyed."


    Otto: "Recall Aegon and send him to Oldtown to take control of the remaining forces of House Hightower."


    "Aegon?" Alicent hesitated.


    Otto nodded. "And Aemond. Recall him to King''s Landing under the pretext of his youth, to win over the nobles of the Stornds."


    "Those two..." Alicent hesitated, then rolled her eyes. "They are like mice in front of a cat when they see Rhaegar. What can they do?"


    Since his marriage matter, Aegon had stopped contacting his mother. Aemond wrote asionally, but his letters were full of adoration for Rhaegar, almost forgetting his own family.


    Alicent thought for a moment. "Why not transfer Hena back? She''s still a girl."


    Dragon Wroth was so cruel that she could ept her two sons taking part in it. But Hena was a young girl. Which lord would dare to marry her in the future?


    Otto looked at his daughter and asked, "You really don''t know why?"


    Alicent was stunned. She suddenly remembered her daughter''s desire to be a third party. Did she say she had seeded?


    Otto did not pursue the matter and got up, saying, "Lady Jeyne of the Vale is suspected of being pregnant, and her belly is starting to show. Someone else has been nning to share the happiness of two people."


    "The Dornish are at the gates of Oldtown, which is just the right excuse for him to enter Oldtown with his dragons and use coercion and bribery."


    "By the Seven Gods, disobeying the church''s will is a sin that will be punished by God," Otto said with a hint of meaning, then pushed the door open. "Think carefully. You''ll be attending the Small Councilter."


    Alicent was stunned.


    Bang!


    The door closed with a soft thud.


    For a long time, Alicent remained motionless. Then, suddenly snapping back to reality, she picked up the wine jug and poured herself another ss, eximing, "How dare he? That was a contract signed by His Grace, the Old King."


    The Old King was the perfect king in her eyes. He had given her honor, confidence, and a prominent position in the court.


    "No! No one should ever question the Old Kingws."


    Alicent mumbled to herself, took a swig of her wine, and gulped it down. And Hena, she must be involved in Rhaegar''s n. That rebellious girl!

 Chapter 455: Oldtown, Here I Come!

    Chapter 455: Oldtown, Here I Come!


    Narrow Sea, Lower Half


    The blue sea was calm.


    "Roar!"


    The ck dragon let out a low growl, its body gliding close to the surface of the sea, ws dipping into the water and splitting the waves.


    The Stepstones, Outside Grey Gallows


    Two small cargo ships drifted, their decks conspicuously covered with ck cloth.


    Boom!


    The ck dragon soared into the sky, spewing Dragonfire onto the cargo ships. The ck cloth ignited immediately, revealing two heavy scorpion crossbows.


    Rhaegar, seated on the dragon''s back, was unsurprised andmanded coldly, "Dracarys!"


    Cannibalplied, circling the ships and unleashing dark green Dragonfire, evenly spreading the mes. Soon, amotion erupted from the cabins as hundreds of pirates in ragged clothes and armor crawled out, wailing and cursing before being consumed by the fire along with the ships.


    "Cannibal, let''s go!"


    Watching the ships'' nks float away, Rhaegar remained unmoved, steering the dragon back toward Sunspear.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal growled softly, its huge body turning nimbly as it soared towards The Broken Arm. Rhaegar''s expression rxed, and he leaned back in the saddle,zily looking up at the sky.


    A month had passed since the start of the second round of Dragon''s Wrath. Dorne had been bathed in Dragonfire several times, and its already sparse castles and viges had been thoroughly destroyed. With the war in Dorne, forces outside the Narrow Sea couldn''t resist stirring up trouble. Pirates frequently harassed the shippingnes of the Stepstones and secretly entered the Sea of Dorne to transport goods, leading to countless incidents of theft and robbery.


    Feeling the sea breeze on his face, Rhaegar closed his eyes and thought quietly: "The rebellion in Dorne is not over. Nobles everywhere are calling on themon people to organize small-scale uprisings."


    These small-scale rebellions were not taken seriously. Rhaenys guarded Sunspear, overseeing Qyle Martell and a portion of the Dorne nobles who had surrendered. The Sea Snake moved to nky Town, restoring the Greenblood River shipping route to the Stepstones and connecting the entire Disputed Lands, effectively blocking the shippingnes in the lower half of the Narrow Sea.


    The only drawback was the insufficient naval forces. Although the patrol fleet could spot enemy ships, pirates asionally managed to sneak in.


    "The Prince''s Pass is sealed, and the Boneway is being rebuilt into a fortress." With the sea defenses in ce, Rhaegar thought about garrisoning the Red Mountains.


    The blockade of The Prince''s Pass waspleted. Nightsong was in the interior, and Kingsgrave was in the middle. House Fowler in Skyreach had surrendered after several months of imprisonment.


    Lord Fowler had three sons. The eldest, a radical who hated the Iron Throne, was poisoned by his second brother, who coveted the house head position.


    When the eldest died, the third brother led Ormund into Skyreach to capture the second brother, who was caught red-handed. With only one brother left, the third inherited Skyreach. Ormund took control of the military forces and allocated territory to ept Dorne civilians who had fled there. Meanwhile, the blockade of Boneway was extended to the far reaches.


    Hena rushed to the Prince''s pce to oversee the transportation of supplies from all over the ce, using Dragonstone toplete the pce ahead of schedule. ckhaven, severely depleted, could only defend Boneway and cooperate with Daemon to search for rebel forces hiding in the mountains. A new town for refugees was built at the eastern end of the Dragonlord''s Altar, at the exit of the Boneway. Donald Tarly led 10,000 men from The Reach to oversee the town''s construction and take in the refugees, providing shelter and dry food while drafting young men asborers.


    The blockade n of three parallel lines��the Prince''s Pass, Boneway, and Greenblood River��was sessfully implemented. Resistance forces, active in the hintend of Dorne and the desert, were unable to leave the Red Mountains. Without a port or ess to the Narrow Sea, they were essentially imprisoned.


    Rhaegar thought to himself, "Dorne has no farnd or wells. The remnants of the resistance will surely be desperate, and then the third round of Dragon''s Wrath will be unleashed."


    In less than half a year, civilians would abandon the rebellion due to hunger. Nobles, losing the support of themon people, would be reduced to insignificant threats, mere grains of sand in the vast desert.


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, Cannibal let out a low growl, its head turning to stare in one direction. Rhaegar detected a note of curiosity in the dragon''s voice and braced himself with his elbows.


    Cannibal was incredibly fast, and in no time it had flown beyond the range of the Stepstones, now approaching the west coast of The Broken Arm. Following the dragon''s line of sight, Rhaegar realized it was focused on the ind of Estermont.


    The indy across the sea from the Stornds, adjacent to Mistwood City in the south of Rainwood. It was the fief of House Estermont of Greenstone. The blue sky was dotted with drifting clouds, and the weather was clear and sultry.


    "Roar..."


    A piercing roar of grief echoed through the air.


    Whoosh!


    A pale silver dragon leapt out of the ind and disappeared into the clouds. Rhaegar recognized it instantly and frowned. "Seasmoke?"


    Seasmoke flew away like a fugitive, its mournful cries lingering in the air. Rhaegar remembered hearing from the Sea Snake that fishermen near Sunspear had spotted a dragon wandering between The Broken Arm and The Summer Sea. It seemed Seasmoke had not given up its search.


    "s, cousin Laenor has truly failed as a friend," Rhaegar sighed, deciding to pay no further attention.


    In total, eight dragons had appeared on the battlefield in Dorne. Six of them unleashed Dragon''s Wrath and participated in the conquest of Dorne. Vermithor had returned to Dragonstone, but Seasmoke was still mourning its master.


    ...


    Sunspear


    A man and a dragon returned,nding in the courtyard of the old pce.


    "Moo, moo~~"


    The Sheepstealer crouched in the corner of the courtyard, savoring the goat being fed by an attendant and listening to the prey''s moans.


    Cannibal lowered his dragon''s head, giving a quick, disdainful nce with his green pupils.


    "Roar..."


    The Sheepstealer let out a scream, swallowed the goat whole, and moved to a more secluded corner, unwilling to provoke further conflict.


    Rhaegar climbed down from the dragon''s back and entered the old pce. He nced up just in time to see the golden Sunfyre perched at the tip of the Sun Tower, its pale pink membranous wings spread wide.


    Rhaegar shook his head, thinking, "A dragon is only as good as its master."


    Fortunately, Sunspear was still secure. With the two dragons kept in the open air, there was no need to worry about anyone with evil intentions.


    The Old Pce, The Prince��s Study


    Rhaegar was alone, removing his loose ck robe and sitting at the desk. He took out a knife with engraved inscriptions on the surface. The war was winding down, leaving only the work of polishing.


    Taking a break from his busy schedule, he decided to cultivate his skills.


    Swish, swish, swish...


    With small, precise movements, the knife gradually transformed a grapefruit-sized stone into the shape of a fiery peak. The solid wood table was covered with many stone carvings, mostly of dragons and various buildings.


    Rhaegar took a few looks at the fire peak and continued polishing it until he was satisfied. The carving knife required exquisite skills to simte the engraving.


    For now, he specialized in stone carving, imitating his father to create aplete Freehold Empire.


    Knock, knock...


    The door was knocked open, almost kicked off its hinges.


    Rhaegar''s hand trembled, carving a gap in the base of the fire peak. His face darkened, and he looked up stiffly.


    Aegon stood there, his face as sour as if he owed everyone a bag of gold dragons.


    Bang!


    Rhaegar mmed his hand on the table, nearly sending the carving knife flying like a concealed weapon. He said with a smile that didn''t reach his eyes, "Aegon, you better have a good reason for kicking in my door. Otherwise, something will definitely happen to you."


    Aegon froze for a moment, noticing the fire peak stone carving his brother had marred. He immediately calmed down.


    Rhaegar''s tone was stern. "Hurry up and say it. Don''t make me p you when I''m in a good mood."


    He thought it had been a while since he had beaten his younger brother. ncing at the carving knife, he shook his head.


    If he cut him down, not only would he lose his brother, but he would also have to exin it to his father.


    "Grrrr..."


    Aegon shivered and swallowed. "Well, Otto wrote to me, urging me to go to Oldtown to prepare for an attack by the Dornish."


    He hurriedly added, "You know me, brother. I hate Oldtown and Hightower, but my mother is also urging me, and it''s really annoying."


    "So what?" Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed.


    Is this boy trying to show his loyalty to me?


    Aegon nced at him and asked tentatively, "Why don''t you go to Oldtown and take care of it for me?"


    "Me?" Rhaegar''s eyes shed with incredulity.


    Do you even hear what you''re saying?


    Guess why Otto and the others are insisting that you go, repeatedly bypassing the overallmander.


    Aegon, pretending to be wise, raised his chin. "It''s better if you go. I''ll continue to attack Dorne with Aemond, and we won''t get in each other''s way."


    He had heard about the situation in King''s Landing. His father was bedridden. His mother and Otto were urging him to go to Oldtown, while they wereurging Aemond to return to King''s Landing. It was obvious that they were up to something.


    He''s just a fool, not aplete idiot.


    He thought for a moment and decided to continue acting like an idiot.


    Rhaegarughed and, instead of making a decision, asked, "Do you know what''s going on in Oldtown?"


    "Dayne and House ckmont have gathered a thousand men and are approaching Oldtown via the mountain pass," Aegon replied without hesitation. "House Hightower has half his troops stationed on the Stepstones and 30% at The Prince''s Pass, leaving only a few hundred to defend the city. The Casten ordered Oldtown to be sealed off, and the Dornish are looting the crops in the fiefdom."


    He knew very well.


    Rhaegar hinted, "Ormund is making a big deal out of nothing, and Otto is meddling."


    "That''s right," Aegon agreed wholeheartedly. "Ormund has been urging me to go back to Oldtown. He said that if I don''t go back, he''ll return himself."


    Rhaegar said calmly, "He''s already gone back. He might be in the Hightower or the Citadel right now."


    "Ah?" Aegon was confused.


    Rhaegar smiled, not revealing the full truth. The reason the Dornish could enter The Reach and precisely target Oldtown was that someone had opened the back door. Hightower hadmitted many sins, and whether Aegon went to help or not, Ormund, as the lord, would not feel at ease. He was even more afraid that the heir prince would destroy Oldtown with his men.


    The Shadow Messenger of Nightsong had sent word that Ormund had slipped away two weeks ago. The Prince''s Pass was now under the control of the Nightsong Casten.


    Aegon was puzzled, the gradually growing fullness of his pale face frozen in confusion, his eyes revealing a clear stupidity.


    Rhaegar put away his carving knife, got up from his chair, and walked out. When he reached Aegon, he patted him on the shoulder and said, "Call Aemond and go to Oldtown tomorrow. The three of us will go together."


    Then he walked past him.


    "???


    Aegon was almost shocked off his feet, pointing at his own face and stammering, "Am I still going?"

 Chapter 456: The High Tower Lit With Dragonfire

    Chapter 456: The High Tower Lit With Dragonfire


    The Next Day


    The sky was clear, and clouds floated leisurely.


    Three dragons soared over the Dorne desert, entering The Reach. Rhaegar rode the Cannibal in front, ncing back at the two dragons trailing behind.


    The Sheepstealer crept forward, with Aemond lowering his head to pull a blue eye from its socket. He took a breath, wiped his eye, and put the blue eye back in ce. Aegon, meanwhile, was slumped over Sunfyre''s back, looking utterly dejected.


    "Tsk!"


    Rhaegar sighed as he wiped the de of his great sword. The sword was long and thick, with a meteor pattern carved on its surface, and the de was pale like milky ss.


    A voice interrupted his thoughts.


    "This exploration isplete. Please pick up the lost treasure."


    Rhaegar''s eyes lit up as the system panel appeared.


    [Dawn]


    Exploration Progress: 100%


    Rhaegar''s mouth curled up slightly, and his eyes searched the area. On the edge of the saddle, a purple halo the size of a ball floated, bobbing up and down.


    Rhaegar reached out and touched it. The aura shattered, turning into a small purple light that entered his palm.


    "Relic sessfully picked up, testing..."


    "Detection sessful. Judged to be an epic relic, the Heart of the Stars."


    "As expected, it''s at least an epic relic," Rhaegar thought to himself, and a milky white iron ingot called the Heart of the Stars appeared in his mind.


    As he thought about it, the iron ingot fell from the sky. Rhaegar quickly reached out and grabbed it. It was quite heavy.


    Without wasting any time, he checked the trigger clue provided by the explorer.


    "The fallen star, absorbing the magic of the stars, awakens the mysterious treasure."


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow and whispered, "Magic of the stars?"


    It was the first time he had heard that stars had magic. In the past, he had only heard that the Rhoynar had water mages and the ancient Valyria had fire mages.


    The stars...


    "When I was a child, I went to flea markets with Rhaenyra, and only the chatans talked about the stars and the moon."


    Rhaegar shook his head andughed, then put away the great sword and the Heart of the Stars.


    The hint was very clear. The magic of stars awakens the secret treasure. I''ll try it out under the night sky tonight.


    "Rhaenyra is eight months pregnant."


    Rhaegar let his thoughts wander, remembering the letter Rhaenyra had sent him. His father had been in aa all day and had not managed the government for a long time. Alicent was constantly stirring up trouble, gathering disgraced nobles she had secretly recruited, acting as if she were facing a great enemy.


    Rhaenyra was pregnant and unable to walk, so shey in bed and participated in Small Council meetings, hoping that he would find time to return to King''s Landing.


    The people are in a panic and need encouragement.


    "Roar!"


    As Rhaegar''s thoughts drifted, Cannibal flew overnd and into a bay. Rhaegar looked down and recognized Whispering Sound, the location of Oldtown. The bay was narrow and deep, resembling a banana from above.


    Cannibal soared over the eastern tip of Whispering Sound, where the Three Towers, a fortress loyal to House Hightower, stood.


    "Ah, so it''s Oldtown again," Aegon sighed as he climbed off Sunfyre''s back.


    Aemond, muttering to himself, added, "Oldtown is nice. It''s cleaner and prettier than King''s Landing." It''s no wonder Mother hated King''s Landing and always missed her childhood.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal''s pupils suddenly fixed on a patch ofnd, and it roared as it swooped down.


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened as he saw a group of dark-skinned refugees within the territory of the Three Towers. They rushed into the vige, looting like hungry wolves.


    Boom!


    A shower of dark green Dragonfire fell from the sky, engulfing more than a hundred refugees. The crackling sound was followed by sudden silence.


    Rhaegar carefully examined the scene below. The refugees wore leather armor under their ragged clothes, and they were all dark-haired and dark-skinned Dornish people. Some carried a small g with a ck vulture on a yellow background, a baby in its beak.


    "They''re from House ckmont!" Aemond, following on the Sheepstealer, was the first to identify the group. The loss of an eye had left an indelible mark on his young mind. He knew every noble house in Dorne and their corresponding crests by heart.


    Rhaegar nced at them briefly before continuing on his way on the Cannibal. House ckmont, like House Dayne, was not wealthy, but after the Dragon''s Wrath, they had managed to muster a force of 2,000 men. Intelligence reported that 1,000 men had entered The Reach. Apparently, they had the idea of looting goods from the start.


    "Let''s keep moving," Rhaegarmanded, steering the Cannibal back on course.


    ...


    Thergest and oldest city in Westeros, Oldtown was built by the First Men long before the Andal invasion. Nestled in the southwest corner of The Reach, it sits where the Honeywine River flows into the estuary of Whispering Sound and the Sea of Sorrows, boasting naturally endowed harbor resources. Under House Hightower''s rule, it stands as one of the fivergest ports in Westeros.


    At this moment, the port bustled with activity, filled with crowds and a variety of ships. If not for the ongoing conflict, the number of people and ships would surely double.


    Oldtown''s elegantyout, with its canals, cobblestone streets, and hidden southern water town charm, contrasts sharply with the power center of King''s Landing. Clean and refreshing, it resembles a beautiful maze.


    The towering Hightower serves as the residence of the lord. In a luxurious bedroom, Ormund paced back and forth in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, his face anxious. His frown and clenched jaw betrayed his unease.


    "Damn it, the Dornish haven��t finished looting the farm yet, and now the prince is meddling," Ormund muttered, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.


    The Dornish threat was manageable; they couldn��t breach Oldtown''s gates. But with the king''s failing health, House Hightower had to prepare and summon their vassals and Aegon''s grandchildren. His younger brother and niece had coveted the throne for years, undermining the heir prince at every turn. If the king died, House Hightower might face retribution.


    In the past, Oldtown couldn��t withstand the Conqueror��s ck dragon, Balerion. Now, Rhaegar Targaryen��s ck dragon, the Cannibal, posed a simr threat.


    As the Lord of Oldtown brooded, a deep, maic voice interrupted.


    "Brother, you are troubled."


    Ormund turned sharply to see Otto, looking indifferent, holding a ss of wine near the door. "The heir prince hasn��t even arrived yet, and you��re already so scared?" Otto asked, peering through the ruby red summer wine in his ss.


    It was unbing to be afraid before the battle.


    Ormund, seizing a reason for anger, approached the table quickly and hissed, "You enjoy the power and nourishment of King��s Landing, what do you know?"


    The Dragon��s Wrath could be unleashed at any moment, killing thousands of Dornish nobles and casting their bodies into an altar. Even Maegor the Cruel hadn��t gone this far.


    Otto took a sip of wine, remaining calm. "Don��t let negative emotions affect your judgment. I came here to help you."


    Having recalled Aegon and Aemond, he knew his grandchildren were unreliable. Rhaegar''s reputation was too great for any direct opposition to seed. In critical moments, Hightower unity was essential.


    Ormund, curiosity piqued, asked, "What are you thinking?"


    Bang!


    Otto dropped his wine ss and countered, "What is the heir prince here for?"


    "What else? To wipe out the remnants of Dorne and pay a visit to Oldtown," Ormund replied without thinking, then paused, taken aback by his own words.


    Wipe out? Visit?


    Otto smiled. "The heir prince''s visit to Oldtown is nothing more than a show of force. Oldtown actively participated in the war and he has no leverage over us."


    In other words, if you don''t expose your weaknesses, you have nothing to fear.


    As a member of the House Hightower, he still had some privileges.


    Ormund''s face brightened, and a smile returned. "So, we just need to be ourselves and treat him normally."


    He is the best at hosting banquets.


    Apart from the Lannisters in the Westends and House Vryon in Driftmark, House Hightower is the richest family. They have money!


    "No," Otto shook his head, his eyes deep. "The prince''s visit to Oldtown is not only a deterrent but also has ulterior motives."


    He rubbed his fingers against the ss of the wine cup and said thoughtfully, "Who knows, we may even be able to take the initiative and use the Seven Gods'' faith and the Citadel to suppress their arrogance."


    The Greens and the cks have been hostile for a long time, and the Greens have always been suppressed and unable to breathe. Now, on the Green Faction''s own turf, they can still be suppressed by outsiders.


    Ormund was shocked to hear this, and then it dawned on him that he was the Lord of Oldtown.


    ording to the tradition of Westeros, a noble''s castle is a ce where the wind and rain can enter, but the king cannot.


    The heir prince is visiting as a guest, so he should respect me! Thinking this, Ormund straightened his back, and a sense of inexplicable confidence welled up in him.


    Otto''s eyes shed with a hint of brilliance, and he said with a bow, "The prince is almost here. Don''t waste time in this bedroom."


    Otto did not look up and replied, "Your wife died the same way as my wife, but as a lord, you should marry another wife."


    Ormund was stunned, his mood immediately dropping. He turned and left, "You should have said so earlier. I''ll go y with little Lyonel for a while."


    Little Lyonel was his son, whose full name was Lyonel Hightower. His wife died the day after giving birth to their son. In order to ensure that his son grows up safely, he has not considered taking another wife.


    Bang! The door closed, leaving Otto alone in the bedroom.


    Otto looked up again, his eyes flickering, and looked out the window at the scenery, sipping the strong summer red.


    The members of Hightower all care deeply about their families and loved ones.


    ...


    Noon.


    Above Oldtown.


    A ck dragon soared through the sky, sending gusts of wind that stirred the ships in the harbor and swept through the city.


    Suddenly, a dragon roar as loud as a bell sounded.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal took a deep breath, his green pupils gleaming with ferocity, and his roar shook the entire Oldtown.


    The residents on the cobblestone streets covered their heads and screamed, feeling as if thunder was striking their ears and making their eardrums vibrate wildly.


    Some even fainted on the spot.


    Fortunately, the Cannibal only roared once before pping its wings and soaring into the sky.


    Just as the residents let out a sigh of relief, thinking they were safe,


    "Roar!"


    "Roar..."


    Two loud roars echoed in unison.


    The Sheepstealer flew swiftly with Aemond into Oldtown, making a special detour around the bell tower of the Starry Sept.


    Its rough tail fluttered, causing the bronze bell to ring.


    Sunfyre snorted and whinnied, shining golden in the sunlight and showing off its pale pink wings.


    The two dragons flew through the city, following the ck dragon, which was muchrger than them.


    Cannibal soared across the wide city, heading straight for the towering tower where House Hightower resided.


    Ake flowed into the Honeywine, with arge, fragrant ind in the middle.


    The ind was connected to the city by a bridge, and boats floated on theke.


    The tower stood on the ind in the middle of theke.


    Cannibal flew over theke, and the white tower loomed ahead.


    Rhaegar looked at it silently, a strange look in his eyes.


    The High Tower lived up to its name, towering over 800 feet high and built entirely of stone.


    "When human power is exhausted, this must be a magical building," Rhaegar thought.


    Looking down, he saw the gate of the High Tower wide open, with Ormund leading a group of attendants out to greet them. From a high vantage point, they looked like tiny insects.


    Rhaegar smiled, his eyes fixed on the top of the tower.


    Why hadn''t they lit the tower''s fire and summoned their vassals to prepare for battle when Dorne invaded?


    "Haha, let me help you."


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed, and he patted the Cannibal on the back.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal immediately understood, his green pupils full of arrogance, and his wings pped to surpass the highest point of the High Tower.


    Ormund waited on the ground, ready to entertain the heir prince.


    Unexpectedly, the ck dragon circled once and flew over the top of the High Tower.


    "Could it be that the prince wants to enjoy the view from the sky?"


    Ormund thought proudly, confident in the beauty of the High Tower.


    The next second.


    "Roar!"


    The ck dragon circled the High Tower once, its ferocious dragon''s mouth wide open, aiming at the tip of the High Tower.


    From a distance, it looked like a terrifying evil god peering into the human world.


    Boom


    A mouthful of dark green Dragonfire burst out, crashing through the white walls that had stood undamaged for a thousand years and covering the entire spire.


    In front of Ormund''s eyes, the entire poption of Oldtown looked up in shock.


    The tower was lit up!


    The war-like spire once again glowed green.


    Rhaegar''s lips curved into a smile as he admired his handiwork.


    In contrast, Ormund was frozen in ce, as if in a deathly silence, unable to believe what he was seeing.


    Until a walnut-sized stone fell from the sky andnded at his feet.


    Then a piercing cry of anguish erupted:


    "No!"

 Chapter 457: Let the High Septon Come and See Me

    Chapter 457: Let the High Septon Come and See Me


    Watching the High Tower crumble, Ormund''s knees gave out, and he fell to the ground in a daze. The sense of powerlessness he felt now was no different from sitting on the vast resources of Oldtown, yet being unable to save his wife from a difficultbor, watching her bleed to death.


    Ormund looked up at the falling debris with a sorrowful expression. It was as if he was watching his wife, who had been tortured beyond recognition, slowly and painfully take herst breath.


    "The High Tower!"


    Ormund''s eyes were bloodshot, and he was on the verge of a breakdown. House Hightower had built the High Tower a thousand years ago. It had withstood the invasion of the Andals, escaped the wrath of the First Men, and survived the Conqueror''s period. It stood proud just a moment ago. But now, a ck dragon had burned the spire, a symbol of war and power.


    Unfortunately, people''s joys and sorrows are not the same.


    Cannibal circled slowly around the stone structure, its green pupils fixed on the burning spire, its nostrils ring lightly.


    "Hey, partner, do you smell magic?"


    Rhaegar, curious about the dragon''s behavior, rode on its back, feeling content. At an altitude of 800 feet, even if Ormund shouted at the top of his lungs, Rhaegar wouldn''t hear a thing. Not that he cared.


    House Hightower was indeed powerful enough to build thergest port in Westeros, with trade spanning two continents. They knew how to take advantage of opportunities and avoid dangers. Throughout history, no matter which invader came, Hightower could kneel down in time, offering their allegiance. Even the Conqueror Aegon and the ck Dread, Balerion, did not harm the Hightowers in the High Tower.


    But this time, Hightower had offended Rhaegar, stepping into a ho''s nest. Killing those with the Hightower surname wasn''t necessary; he only needed to take two pieces of stone from the tower their ancestors built.


    Cannibal shook its dragon head, its pupils shing with disgust, and slowly descended with its wings spread wide. There was no smell of magic. Perhaps there was some magic once, but it had long since dried up and withered.


    Rhaegar touched his Truefyre and Dragon Whip at his waist, unusually silent for the first time. The Hightower name was indeed ancient, noble, and very mysterious. Unlike other native nobles, the Hightowers seemed to have appeared out of nowhere in Westeros.


    But that didn''t matter. No matter how noble the bloodline, it couldn''t be more noble than the ancient Dragonlords of Valyria.


    Rhaegar stroked the dragon''s back and looked down at the nearly copsed Ormund. The Targaryen name represented blood and fire. The dragon had granted him privileges. His father was now bedridden, and Alicent was at his side.


    Rhaegar wondered what mischief Hightower and Oldtown would conjure up next.


    "Roar!"


    "Roar..."


    The Sheepstealer and Sunfyre followed, heading for the High Tower, which was aze with green fire.


    "Lord, we must retreat!"


    Seeing that Ormund''s heart was as cold as ice, the household knight led the Lord back to the gate, moving very carefully.


    Boom!


    Just as they took their first steps, the Cannibalnded. Its feet sank into the soft grass, and its jet-ck wings whipped up a wave of searing heat that instantly snapped the spines of the surrounding flowers and nts.


    "Roar!"


    That wasn��t enough. Cannibal''s green eyes red coldly as it let out a roar of defiance at the stunned reception team.


    "Protect the Lord!"


    The household knight, who had never encountered such a spectacle before, drew his sword and stood in front of Ormund, his hand trembling.


    What the Prince and the dragon wanted to do? Protecting the Lord is their mission.


    "Roar?"


    Cannibal''s dragon''s maw curled up in a almost mocking arc. Its wings supported its weight as its long tailshed out like lightning.


    Crack!


    The knight''s sword flew off, spinning 360 degrees in mid-air before plunging into the grass 100 meters away. As for the knight...


    The dragon''s tail flicked lightly, and the knight was almost blown to pieces, his remains falling into theke.


    The blueke was stained red, and the small fish and shrimp scrambled to eat.


    Ormund stared in disbelief at the scene.


    How dare he! Killing his follower knight in front of the Lord of Oldtown. This is a sin against the faith of the Seven Gods.


    "Cannibal, behave yourself!"


    Rhaegar''s face turned cold, and he scolded the dragon in a tone that was neither too light nor too heavy. Then, looking down at the stunned Ormund, he said casually, "Sorry, Lord Ormund, Cannibals are by nature violent and will never tolerate the provocation of the weak."


    "You..."


    Ormund was so angry that he wanted to rush forward and argue.


    "Roar..."


    Aegonnded on Sunfyre, stopping a few meters behind the Cannibal, his magnificent appearance shining with gold.


    "Roar!"


    The Sheepstealer followed closely behind,nding a dozen meters behind the Cannibal, its withered dragon head bobbing back and forth as it swallowed a live goat from somewhere.


    The sudden appearance of the two dragons silenced Ormund''s words.


    Take a look.


    The three dragons stared at the High Tower, and the three Targaryen brothers sat on their backs. The three Targaryens were all teenagers, the eldest no more than 16 years old. Led by Rhaegar, they all had a look of defiance and a condescending air.


    From Ormund''s perspective, the three Targaryens were clearly three active volcanoes that could destroy Oldtown at any time.


    The three dragons and three Targaryens left no room for doubt.


    "Gulp..."


    Ormund swallowed a mouthful of saliva subconsciously, holding back his words of abuse. A phrase kept repeating itself in his head.


    The other side has dragons!


    Rhaegar looked down at Ormund, who dared not speak angrily, and smiled without saying a word. Aegon and Aemond dared not speak first, listening obediently on the dragon''s back.


    Ormund looked around, trying to make eye contact with his two grandsons.


    Aegon turned his head and pretended to be blind.


    Aemond touched his left eye and didn��t bother pretending to be blind.


    Ormund: ...


    Sweating profusely.


    Rhaegar took the opportunity to bow slightly forward and smile, "Lord Ormund, the people of Dorne have looted the crops in Oldtownso I lit a bonfire in the High Tower for you. Do you mind?"


    Aegon and Aemond looked up at the same time, finally noticing the tip of the High Tower burning. Their eyes fell on the fierce Cannibal, and their hearts skipped a beat. Apart from Vhagar and Vermithor, no other dragon could match this wild, cannibalistic beast.


    The Sheepstealer and Sunfyre both had their own painful experiences with the Cannibal. Sunfyre, recalling those bad memories, silently backed away ten meters to create a safe distance. The Sheepstealer, sly and cunning, with wide brown wings, always ready to take flight, kept its distance too. This wild dragon is naturally good at surviving.


    The two dragon riders were already afraid of Rhaegar and the Cannibal, not to mention Ormund, who was just a normal person. Ormund forced a smile that was even uglier than a crying face: "Not at all. The three Princes havee a long way, so pleasee into my humble home and have a chat."


    Otto is a real pain in the neck! This is not a Lord intimidating the heir prince; it is the heir prince tantly intimidating him.


    Rhaegar did not answer immediately. Aegon and Aemond were tired of riding the dragon and were happy to get off and enjoy the night. As Rhaegar did not speak, they waited patiently, with their hands on their chins.


    If they don''t wait, they''ll probably get beaten!


    Just as Ormund was feeling embarrassed, there was a burst of apuse from the High Tower. Rhaegar looked away. He saw Otto, dressed in his best suit, slowly walking out of the hall, holding a te of bread and salt in his hands.


    "Otto?"


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed slightly, a little surprised. Tormund''s raven reported that Otto was hiding in the Red Keep, and that only Alicent was left to maintain the court. It turns out he snuck back to his house home in Oldtown.


    Otto was easygoing and greeted Rhaegar with a bow: "Greetings, Prince. It is a blessing for the kingdom to see you safe and sound." Then he turned to Aegon and Aemond, and, in the manner of a grandfather, lectured them, "Why don''t youe down? Oldtown is your second home. Your mother was always happy toe home."


    Aegon and Aemond were taken aback by these words, their hearts wavering. The identity of their grandfather was indeed very effective on them. When they were young, Otto had lectured them a lot, instilling all kinds of knowledge and ideas in them.


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed, and a hint of ill will appeared in his eyes. What a clever Otto! He is indeed calcting to the core, and even his speech is so artistic. First he praises, then he criticizes. He holds him up, tramples on his two younger brothers, and starts by sowing discord.


    But as the eldest, Aegon and Aemond could not object.


    Ormund''s face brightened and he said, "I have prepared a grand banquet to entertain the three Princes."


    Aegon''s eyes lit up, showing great interest in the banquet. Aemond remained silent, unwilling to get involved in the battle between his brother and his grandfather. One of them was a blood brother, and the other was a powerful house. He didn''t want to offend either of them, and he couldn''t help either of them.


    Rhaegar did not give his two younger brothers any trouble and said directly, "No, there is still time for the banquet. I have more important things to deal with."


    Otto frowned slightly. "You''re visiting Oldtown, so you''re expected to be entertained by House Hightower."


    "No hurry."


    Rhaegar refused outright, pointing to a magnificent building in Oldtown that was second only to the High Tower. "My father is ill, the rebellion in Dorne continues, and I need to see the High Septon to hear the Seven''s guidance."


    He could see Otto''s n. He wanted to use the blood ties between the two grandsons to break away from his older brother''s chariot. He would undermine his potential power, both overtly and covertly, to achieve the political capital to rival him.


    Rhaegar could only shake his head. He really didn''t have time to argue about petty power ys. While the three brothers are united, it is the perfect opportunity to take advantage of the situation and suppress the Faith of the Seven and to empty the Citadel of its resources. This would consolidate his rule and benefit his descendants.


    He was not so bored as to lower himself to the level of Otto and y by the same rules. In his game of chess, Rhaegar would never see a chance of winning, no matter how great his skills. However, Rhaegar is the one who has the power to make the rules. He wants to y, and Otto has to y. If he doesn''t want to y, Otto has to leave the table.


    Otto''s expression changed slightly. He had not expected the heir prince to be so reckless.


    Rhaegar said, "I heard that the House Hightower has a close rtionship with the Faith of the Seven, so I would like to thank Lord Ormund for his help in introducing the High Septon to me."


    Ormund''s mouth twitched, and his heart was in a whirl. The Seven Gods and the royal power are equal. What do you mean by introducing the High Septon to you? The High Septon is already equal to the king in status and is the servant chosen by the Seven Gods.


    Rhaegar tilted his head to the side: "Any questions?"


    Say it, and I''ll listen with the Cannibal.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal growled, his voice rough and deep, shaking the eardrums of those present.


    Ormund''s face tightened, and he said immediately, "Wait a moment. The servant will go and hitch up the carriage."


    "Thank you, Lord Ormund."


    Rhaegar smiled politely.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal roared, raised its head, spread itsrge wings, and shook its huge body.


    "Roar..."


    The Sheepstealer and Sunfyre, not knowing what to make of it, followed suit and let out a roar, spreading their wings in a show of force.

 Chapter 458: Otto’s Cunning

    Chapter 458: Otto��s Cunning


    Starry Sept.


    The second tallest building in Oldtown and the most magnificent of the Seven Holy Temples in Westeros.


    It has long been the center of the Faith of the Seven.


    The temple gate stood wide open, and the high white stone steps divided into several sections, hosting a constant flow of believers every day.


    Whether noble, knight,moner, or beggar, all could enter the temple equally to receive sermons from the preachers.


    "Roar!"


    The sound of a bell tolled as the Cannibal circled Oldtown, its massive form casting a shadow over the Starry Sept.


    Roar!


    Roar...


    The Sheepstealer and Sunfyre spread out on either side, spreading their wings and gliding recklessly, as if guarding thergest ck dragon.


    This scene stirred mixed feelings among the people of Oldtown.


    The dragons'' arrival symbolized the presence of Targaryen royalty. The Iron Throne revered the Seven Gods, and even the daughter of the old king had joined the nuns.


    But with war raging in Dorne, the dragons should have been on the battlefield.


    The sudden appearance of three dragons in Oldtown, first rming the residents and then circling the Starry Sept, caused a wave of anxiety.


    Believers, quite nervous, flocked to the temple to find out what was happening.


    ...


    At this time,


    Inside the Starry Sept, there was a high level of alert, and hundreds of preachers ran out of the gate and surrounded the long steps.


    "Roar!"


    The ck dragon roared angrily, its wings covering the sky and blotting out the sun. Its pitch-ck scales and green pupils were eerie and terrifying, reminiscent of the demons of hell recorded in the Seven Star Bible.


    "Cannibal,nd!"


    Rhaegar''s expression was indifferent as he steered the dragon down,nding precisely on the long steps of the cathedral. The dragon''s sharp ws crushed the stone steps, as if hammering a spine.


    The Sheepstealer and Sunfyre circled twice beforending on the gstone floor below the long steps. The Cannibal, being muchrger, upied most of the long steps, blocking all the roads with its wings. The two dragons had tond further away.


    Grrrr...


    A carriage bearing the Hightower crest sped up, and Ormund and Otto, enduring the jolting difort, helped the attendant out of the carriage. Ormund had toe, while Otto came of his own ord, wanting to help his brother.


    Rhaegar nced at them before turning back to the group of preachers at the temple entrance. He dered, "I am Rhaegar of House Targaryen, the eldest son of Viserys I, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, and the Regent. Tell your High Septon toe out!"


    The preachers exchanged confused nces, their hostility evident.


    Rhaegar, seeing their reluctance, added sternly, "The heir prince is visiting. Where is the High Septon?"


    He had already shortened his introduction, but the preachers still looked bewildered.


    Ormund hurried up the long steps, panting, "Prince, I''ll do the talking."


    There are more people in Westeros who reject dragons than worship them. The Seven Gods and the House Targaryen have been at odds for over a hundred years. Things improved during the reign of the Old King, and Viserys pursued a policy of cooperation and mutual benefit. But even the Old King never rode his dragon directly around the Starry Sept.


    Rhaegar waved his hand, sensing the rejection from the Faith of the Seven. He said casually, "I only have one request: to see the High Septon."


    He hade to settle old scores, not to be nice. Suppressing the Seven Gods and seeking the privilege of marrying more women was his true goal. He doesn''t need the king or the royal family to marry more, but he needs the right to marry more.


    Once the king has the right to marry multiple times, the authority of the Faith of the Seven will be weakened, and the king''s authority will be elevated above that of the gods.


    Ormund nodded and hurriedly exchanged words with the missionaries. The missionaries looked very nervous, each holding a chair, table, or bench, ready to sacrifice themselves for the Seven Gods at any moment.


    Rhaegar nced inside the temple. Hundreds of nuns were kneeling in a row, praying to the Seven Gods. Arger number of monks and silent sisters stood in the corner, peering out at the ck dragon outside the temple.


    "Quite arge number,parable to the private soldiers raised by a noble family in The Reach," Rhaegar thought to himself, remembering the long-disbanded Sons of Warriors and the Poor Fellows. That grassroots armed force could bring down an entire kingdom if it rebelled. Even the cruel Maegor, who rode the ck Dread, Balerion, had not been able topletely stamp out the Seven Gods.


    After a while, Ormund finishedmunicating. He approached the Cannibal, hesitating to know how to start the conversation.


    Seeing him stammering, Rhaegar became alert and said unkindly, "What, the High Septon died unexpectedly?"


    "No!" Ormund shook his head and frowned. "The High Septon learned of the heir prince''s arrival and went into seclusion in the secret chamber a quarter of an hour ago. He will not be disturbed."


    "Seclusion ?" Rhaegar was taken aback and couldn''t help butugh. "The High Septon thinks of me as a conqueror."


    At the beginning of the Targaryen dynasty, the conqueror unified the six kingdoms except Dorne and nned to enter Oldtown. The High Septon locked himself in the inner sanctum of the Starry Sept for seven days and seven nights, during which time he ate only bread and water and listened to the guidance of the Seven.


    After seven days, the High Septon, who had almost died on his knees, emerged from his seclusion. When the Conqueror rode into Oldtown on Balerion, Lord Hightower opened the gates of Oldtown and the people lined the streets to wee him.


    It turned out that the High Septon had heard many things during his seclusion.


    ...


    Oldtown could not withstand the wrath of a dragon. To kneel was to survive; to resist was to die.


    The Faith of the Seven and House Hightower worked together to ensurepliance.


    Ormund replied, "Prince, the Faith of the Seven is widespread throughout Westeros. Perhaps you should wait a little longer."


    "Do you know why I''m here?" Rhaegar asked, his white hair standing on end.


    Ormund was speechless.


    Everyone in the kingdom knew the heir prince was more resistant to the Faith of the Seven than the young king Viserys. He was also rumored to have an affair with Lady Jeyne of the Vale. During the conquest of Dorne, the heir prince rode in on the wave of unification of Westeros. It was inevitable that he would suppress the Faith of the Seven and seize unspoken benefits.


    Rhaegar smiled, knowing his thoughts were transparent.


    Facing the armed uprising of the Faith of the Seven, Queen Visenya had once told her nephew, Aenys I:


    "My nephew, you are an idiot and a coward. Who would dare offend your father like that? You have a dragon under your belt. You should ride it to Oldtown and turn the Starry Sept into a second Harrenhal. If you don''t have the guts, let me go and roast that pretentious clown for you."


    Rhaegar also had a dragon at hismand and the courage to burn everything.


    There was only one agenda for his trip to Oldtown: "I will! I want!" House Hightower, the Faith of the Seven, and the Citadel had no right to refuse.


    Even Otto, who hade to help, was left speechless.


    The Targaryen kings were mostly fierce and domineering. Aenys I and Viserys'' weak character were the exception.


    Rhaegar patted the back of the dragon, and the Cannibal slowly crawled forward. "The history High Septon has been in seclusion for seven days and seven nights. I will also give the High Septon seven days and seven nights. During this time, I will stay at the Starry Sept and wait for good news."


    Cannibal climbed to the door of the temple, his towering back level with the dome, then lowered himself to allow his rider to dismount.


    Rhaegar paid no attention to the hostile stares of the preachers and got off the dragon''s back. He waved to Aegon and Aemond and headed for the hall of the temple.


    The priests'' hearts sank, and they tried to block the door with a human wall.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal''s green eyes red fiercely at the Starry Sept. The hot air from his roar knocked over all those in his way, burning their skin through their clothes. Screams echoed everywhere.


    Rhaegar walked into the temple, his long, silver-blonde hair blowing in the wind, his hands behind his back. He treated the preachers like insignificant insects, blowing them away with a single breath and scattering them.


    As his right foot stepped onto the threshold of the temple, Rhaegar paused. Ormund and Otto jumped, thinking trouble was imminent.


    Rhaegar turned and said, "The task of clearing out the Dorne invaders is entrusted to Aegon and Aemond. After I meet with the High Septon, I hope to meet with a representative of the Citadel''s Conve immediately."


    The Conve,posed of maesters, had the power to appoint and dismiss the Grand Maester.


    Rhaegar then entered the cathedral and sat down in a corner, leaving a ck dragon crouching at the entrance, its green pupils watchful.


    Ormund and Otto clenched their fists, realizing their palms were sweating. They had already seen many potential problems in a short time.


    Otto, in particr, was taken aback by the depth of Rhaegar''s eyes. His hands and feet felt numb.


    When he saw the heir prince enter the temple, he thought the Old King hade back to life. He knew full well the prince was making a statement. If they met his demands, all would be well. They could choose to refuse, but Dragonfire was unavoidable.


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal let out a long, low growl, its pupils gradually closing like a guard.


    "Let''s go."


    Otto came to his senses, his face grim: "We need to go back and discuss. Overturn all previous ns."


    Ormund nodded eagerly, and the two brothers climbed back into the carriage.


    ...


    Night falls.


    High Tower, Lord''s bedroom.


    Ormund had taken a bath and was sitting dejectedly by the bed.


    The Faith of the Seven and Oldtown were allies of House Hightower, and he had always been proud of them, highlighting the prosperity and knowledge of Oldtown.


    Now, both were huge problems.


    Creak


    The door opened and Otto, dressed in his usual green uniform, walked in.


    Ormund gave him a sideways nce and then slumped his head again.


    "Aegon and his dragons will be searching for Dorne raiders tomorrow," Otto began, keeping hisposure.


    Ormund remained sullen.


    Otto saw this and said with a deep voice, "My two grandchildren have grown up and have their own ideas."


    "I knew it," Ormund replied, sickly.


    After dinner, he had asked Otto to try to win over his two nephews. Clearly, it hadn''t worked.


    "Brother, don''t be so easily discouraged," Otto said, sitting down next to Ormund. "The heir prince''s suppression of the Faith of the Seven and the Citadel will not affect the family for the time being."


    The knife is not pointed at him, and House Hightower is honest, so the other side can''t get a handle on it.


    Ormund frowned, hearing the unspoken meaning: "For the time being?"


    Otto sighed lightly. "The heir prince is doing his best to suppress the influence of Oldtown. If Your Grace has an ident, it will be difficult for House Hightower when he ascends the throne."


    "Your Grace is only in aa," Ormund said, knowing the inside story and not so worried.


    "Viserys has always been in poor health, and a longa is not a good sign for anyone," Otto replied.


    Ormund thought about it carefully. It made sense, but he hesitated. "Do you have a way to avoid the heir prince''s difficulties?"


    Otto''s question was not answered: "What would you do if pirates blocked your trade routes?"


    "We can still do something about it. We should clean it up..." Ormund paused, unable to believe it. "No."


    Fortunately, Otto denied it in time and guided him: "What should you do when you face an enemy that is many times stronger?"


    Ormund thought for a while and hesitated, "Strengthen allies and suppress the pirates'' prestige to achieve parity."


    He had done the same thing when the pirates of the Triarchy were wreaking havoc, by uniting with the Lannister and Arbor fleets.


    "That''s right," Otto smiled. "The heir prince has won a great victory and is in the spotlight. We should avoid the limelight for now and concentrate on consolidating our power."


    "Alicent is weak and her children are of little use," Ormund said, not hopeful about this.


    Otto shook his head and said with certainty, "We were wrong before, trying to pit the Targaryen blood against itself. What we should have done is strengthen the children''s recognition of Hightower and keep them close to their mother, surrounding their mother."


    As long as the children don''t distract their mother, they will always protect her from harm.


    Ormund was shocked and eximed, "Yes, there is no child in the world who does not love their mother."


    Otto stood up and patted him on the shoulder, saying, "Don''t think too much. Let the heir prince take what he wants. The real battlefield is always in King''s Landing."


    Ormund reasoned, "The heir prince wants topete with the Faith of the Seven for power. We can use this to undermine his prestige."


    "Haha, maybe."


    Otto left the bedroom with a deep look in his eyes, his back turned to his brother.


    ...


    Starry Sept.


    The moon was high in the sky, and the stars were shining brightly.


    Rhaegar sat in the hall of the temple, a huge sword that looked like milky ss in front of him.

 Chapter 459 Rhaegar: Son of the Gods?

    Chapter 459 Rhaegar: Son of the Gods?


    The Great Sword Dawn.


    Rhaegar looked at the sword with surprise in his eyes. The surface of the sword glowed with a milky white light, shimmering with a gorgeous array of colors. It wasn��t the sword itself that was magical, but something else altogether.


    A man and his sword. Within a three-meter radius, the de was surrounded by flickering starlight and silvery moonlight.


    The Starry Sept, arge building with a ck stone exterior and a typical dome-shaped roof, was bathed in the night sky''s starlight. The light shone through the ss skylight onto the seven statues of the gods.


    Rhaegar sat in the center of the seven gods, and the starlight seemed to fall like cotton wool, showering them with a brilliant glow.


    The giant sword glistened in the dawn light, and the iron-forged de of the meteorite sword absorbed the starlight bit by bit.


    This scene resembled a vision of the gods.


    Dozens of holy sisters serving the Seven Gods in the sanctuary were awestruck by the sight and fell to their knees in reverence.


    Looking back,


    Rhaegar''s face remained calm, his long, silvery-gold hair falling over his shoulders, and he wiped the de of the sword slowly and deliberately.


    The Dawn sword trembled slightly, absorbing the starlight with increasing effort.


    With each additional ray of starlight, the milky white de became more transparent, as if it were an invisible sword.


    The elegant and handsome prince, the mythical holy sword.


    This scene in the Starry Sept, among the sculptures of the seven gods, could easily be mistaken for a divine descent of a man and a sword from the heavens.


    "Seven gods above..."


    The holy sisters were all dumbstruck, sping their hands together and praying fervently.


    Rhaegar, as always, chose to ignore them, revealing his true nature as a god-like figure above the world.


    Only he knew that it was all a misunderstanding.


    The system panel appeared.


    Trigger prompt: "The fallen star absorbs the magic of the starlight and awakens the mysterious treasure."


    The System Exploration wasplete, and the [Heart of the Stars] produced by Dawn was obtained.


    At night, he tried to trigger the [Heart of the Stars] in the Starry Sept.


    Hum~


    The great sword Dawn emitted a hum, and one-seventh of the de turned transparent.


    At this point, the silky moonlight disappeared, and the firefly-like starlight retreated.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were full of doubt, and he whispered, "Can''t take too much?"


    The de of Dawn, made of star-falling iron, could not absorb too much starlight magic at once.


    This was Rhaegar''s first encounter with starlight magic.


    How should I put it?


    It''s... strange.


    Compared to the violent and restless fire magic, starlight magic is sometimes peaceful and calm, and sometimes cold and piercing.


    More often than not, it is a sense of distance that is both tangible and intangible.


    Once you cross the borderline, a ck hole-like darkness, emptiness, and a feeling of being swallowed up are born.


    What''s more, Rhaegar can''t absorb Star Magic.


    The fire magic in his blood is like a lord with a bad temper, driving away any outsiders who try to enter his territory.


    "This shouldn''t be!"


    Rhaegar ced one hand on his forehead and the other on the hilt of the ten-kilogram sword he was wielding with the ease of a child.


    The knowledge of the Pyromancer''s heritage did not mention that the magic of fire was so exclusive.


    Damn it!


    He is a Pyromancer, but he only knows the blood sorcery of the Bloodmages, and he doesn''t know any fire sorcery.


    How did the Pyromancers of ancient Valyria survive? They didn''t pass on any knowledge to future generations.


    "One in seven. It looks like I''ll have to wait six more days."


    Rhaegar carelessly stuck the great sword Dawn on the floor next to him, stroked the de, and closed his eyes.


    He had given the High Septon seven days and nights to meditate, just enough time to absorb enough magic of the stars and activate [Heart of the Stars] in the Starry Sept.


    If the High Septon had thought it through, the relics would be triggered and everyone would be happy.


    If he couldn''t make up his mind, then Rhaegar would just chop off his head with the Sword of the Morning.


    ...


    Time flies, and six days have passed.


    Rhaegar stayed in the Starry Sept, not eating or drinking for the entire time, embodying the discipline of a septon more devout than the septons themselves.


    On the first day, the holy sisters were drawn to the vision surrounding Dawn.


    On the third day, the holy brothers admired his endurance and willpower.


    By the fourth and fifth days, the entire Starry Sept was captivated by him, watching the Targaryen prince under the Seven Gods sculpture in hushed awe.


    Rumors began to circte.


    Whispers spread that the one sitting in the middle of the Seven Gods was no longer a mere mortal or a stereotypical Dragonlord but rather a messenger chosen by the Seven Gods��a son of God.


    His handsome appearance and unyielding will,bined with his ability to go without food or drink, added to this divine image.


    The presence of the ck dragon outside the temple only fueled these rumors.


    People imed the dragon was a guardian appointed by the Seven Gods to their messenger, and its infernal green Dragonfire symbolized the cleansing of all injustice and sin.


    These rumors spread like wildfire, morphing into various versions.


    Some said he was a warrior reincarnated, blessed by the Mother, or even the hand of the Stranger.


    Others attributed the victory in the war in Dorne to the guidance of the Seven Gods and the boundless power of the Warrior.


    After all, it''s not against thew to make up stories.


    These tales became popr in Oldtown.


    holy brothers and holy sisters couldn''t get enough of it, and it attracted arge number of Seven-God believers to visit.


    Rhaegar was aware of these rumors but paid them no mind.


    He just sat quietly under the statue of the Seven Gods.


    During the day, he explored the power of fire, trying to create his own fire magic.


    At night, he bathed his giant sword in the magic of the stars and fell asleep in a cross-legged position.


    Why didn''t he eat or drink? As a Dragonborn, his body was extraordinary. He could go seven days without eating or drinking without any problem.


    The magic of fire was enough to nourish his body.


    Of course, it didn''t help that Aegon and Aemond seemed to have forgotten about him, not bringing him any food.


    He was also wary of the bread and water provided by the Faith of the Seven.


    Even a Dragonborn feared being poisoned; his grandfather Baelon had died in a rather unpleasant way.


    "Wait a little longer. It will be tonight," Rhaegar thought, ncing back at the temple gate packed with Oldtown believers who hade to witness the spectacle.


    He was puzzled by the mentality of these believers, then a thought struck him as he gazed at the statue of the seven gods, his eyes seeming to shine with starlight.


    ...


    King''s Landing, Red Keep.


    Seven days had passed since thest Small Council meeting.


    Alicent had just fed her husband some vegetable porridge until he fell asleep again and left the bedchamber.


    Two Kingsguard stood guard on either side, and a tall, thin, dark-haired Maester waited silently.


    "Your Grace, the Queen."


    Maester Munkun greeted her in a low voice.


    Alicent closed the door behind her, took onest look around the room, and then deliberately walked a little further away with Munkun.


    She made sure that the two Kingsguard couldn''t hear their conversation.


    She put her arms around her chest and covered her face with her other hand, saying, "Viserys is in a very bad state. He often has nightmares and is startled. Can you prescribe some milk of the poppy to calm him down?"


    "This is against what the Prince said."


    Munkun replied matter-of-factly, as if nothing had happened. While saying this, he looked at the queen with a not-so-deep gaze. From her behavior, he sensed a sense of anxiety.


    Alicent''s face fell, and she said in a threatening tone, "Rhaegar, it''s all Rhaegar! I am the queen, the one who has always taken care of Viserys."


    Munkun remained silent, not wanting to offend her.


    "Listen to me, Maester Munkun."


    Alicent calmed down and smiled, "You are a learned man with a wealth of knowledge. I believe you have the talent to rival Orwyle, but you justck the opportunity to show it."


    Munkun was surprised and refused, saying, "Your Grace, I don''t think I''m smarter than anyone else. I just put extra effort to learn."


    Alicent frowned.


    Unexpectedly, Munkun changed the subject: "Of course, I don''t think anyone is smarter than me, and knowledge is not a tool forparison."


    His words were humble and arrogant, and they also had a strong philosophical vor.


    "He''s smooth-talking, no wonder Viserys likes him," thought Alicent to herself.


    The two negotiated for a while, though no one knew what was said.


    In the end, Alicent left satisfied.


    ...


    2:00 p.m.


    The Small Council was convened again, initiated by Alicent in her capacity as Queen.


    In the council chamber, the elderly Lord Beesbury was thest to arrive. The first thing his dimmed eyes saw was Alicent sitting in the main seat. He frowned but did not speak out against her because of her status as queen.


    The King and the heir prince were absent, so the Hand of the King should have taken the king''s ce. Linman turned his head and found Lyonel, his face dark and tense, sitting in the lower right corner of the main seat. Lyonel was already heavyset, and when he got angry, his whole face puffed up like a bear.


    "Something''s happened," Linman thought immediately.


    After a moment''s thought, Linman slowly walked to his seat and said with a smile, "People get drowsy at noon when they get older. Don''t me me."


    Alicent leaned back in her chair and made a tolerant gesture: "It''s okay. You are the pirs of the kingdom. I hope I didn''t disturb your sleep."


    "Oh, Your Grace is so understanding," Linman replied, sitting down in his seat.


    With his arrival, the advisers of the Small Council ced their stone balls into the slots, and the council meeting officially began.


    There was a strange and quiet atmosphere in the hall for a few seconds. Linman looked around, paying particr attention to the queen, the Hand of the King, and the Master of Whisperers, trying to read something in their expressions.


    Tormund had changed his usual friendly smile, his eyes narrowed and his hands interlocked in his sleeves. The ck and white robe hung from his shoulders like a pendant, and he turned his head to look at those present. Linman immediately guessed that the heir prince was involved.


    In the high-pressure atmosphere, the sound of a pin dropping could be heard in the hall. Alicent looked around and tried to break the tension. Before she could say anything, she was interrupted.


    Lyonel frowned and said solemnly, "The heir prince is visiting Oldtown, and the Starry Sept and Citadel should receive him with the highest level of hospitality. It is best not to mention things that are just hearsay."


    "Lord Lyonel, how can something that has attracted so much attention be without foundation?" Alicent frowned and said, "Rhaegar used the pretext of supporting Oldtown to damage the High Tower with his dragon."


    She paused, impatiently adding, "Of course, this could have been an ident, and Lord Ormund may not want to pursue it."


    "But!" Alicent looked around and said seriously, "Rhaegar used his dragons to force the Starry Sept to break the peace treaty signed between His Grace the King and the Faith of the Seven for his own selfish gain."


    The Old King and the Seven Gods were the pirs that had supported her rise to power. She could not tolerate anyone trying to destroy both.


    Lyonel said, "This is unfounded. The Starry Sept has not issued any news, and it is the High Septon who has been negligent in his treatment of Prince Rhaegar."


    Alicent almostughed in anger, thinking that Lyonel would defend Rhaegar no matter what. Knowing that she could not reason with the stubborn Hand of the King, she turned her attention to Lord Beesbury.


    "Lord Beesbury, you are the Lord of Honeyholt and a nobleman of The Reach. You should understand the importance of the Faith of the Seven, shouldn''t you?" she asked. It seemed like a question, but it was actually full of threats.


    Lord Beesbury, wary and cautious, pretended to be ignorant: "I am old and don''t know much. The heir prince''s visit to the Starry Sept is a good thing in any case."


    Alicent was furious and said excitedly, "Rhaegar wants to break the peace treaty. He threatened the church with his dragons and forced the High Septon to go into seclusion."


    Upon hearing this, Linman thought for a moment and said, "Your Grace, why don''t you just tell us what you want or what the solution is."


    Bang!


    Alicent had been waiting for this moment and mmed her hand down on the table: "I demand that the Iron Throne reprimand Rhaegar for his bad behavior, and if necessary, recall him to King''s Landing!"


    "That''s impossible," Lyonel was the first to object, retorting, "The Prince is on the front lines of the conquest of Dorne. No one can stop this but the King."


    "Then let him leave Oldtown and give up his delusions of viting the peace treaty!" Alicent''s eyes widened, and she shouted back without flinching.

 Chapter 460: The Realm’s Delight

    Chapter 460: The Realm��s Delight


    The bickering in the council hall could be heard halfway up the Red Keep. The servants kept their heads down, silently going about their tasks. The marble floor was polished until it shone.


    ...


    The Princess''s Bedroom.


    Rhaenyra was taking a nap and heard a murmur outside the door. First, she frowned, then opened her eyes, blinking in confusion.


    "Sara, what''s going on?" Rhaenyra struggled to sit up, her voice hoarse and soft.


    Creak.


    At the sound of her voice, the door was pushed open. Sara, with no expression on her face, came quickly to help, worried. "Watch your stomach. The Maester said not to push it."


    "I will." Rhaenyra smiled and stroked her belly through her nightgown. She was eight months pregnant and her belly was quite impressive.


    Sara was worried that she wasn''t taking it seriously, so she advised, "The Maester said to eat less and walk more. Twins are not born easily."


    With one baby in one womb and one in the other, there are still cases of difficult births. With two babies in one womb, the risk increases exponentially. ording to the Maester, starving the babies a little would reduce the chance of a difficult birth.


    "Don''t always listen to what the Maester says." Rhaenyra looked distressed. "I walk around a lot, but I''m really hungry. I''ve never been that hungry since I was a child."


    Sara sighed. "As you wish."


    Rhaenyra took her hand and gave her a sweet smile. "Don''t be angry. What''s going on outside?"


    After all the years they had spent together, she still had a lot of affection for her servant-friend who protected her.


    Sara told her the truth. "The Queen has called a Small Council to impeach Prince Rhaegar..." She rambled on, telling Rhaenyra all the information she had gathered.


    Rhaenyra was shocked and couldn''t believe her ears. "Did Alicent ask about the Faith of the Seven because she wants to recall Rhaegar?"


    She was afraid Alicent was crazy!


    Since the session of Aerys I, the Faith of the Seven has been openly and secretly opposing the Iron Throne and restricting the rights that the House Targaryen should have. Aegon and Rhaena, the children of Aerys I, followed the family tradition and were almost beaten to death in the streets by the nobles andmoners incited by the High Septon.


    When Jaehaerys, their great-grandfather, came to power, he was forced to sign a peace treaty with the Faith of the Seven in exchange for peace. The unspoken rules of those terms were almost enough to make the Targaryens abandon their ancient Valyrian traditions and assimte into Westeros.


    Sara simply said, "The Queen used the Prince of selfishness."


    "Bastard!" Rhaenyra cursed under her breath, her anger boiling over. She knew who was selfish.


    She gritted her teeth and got up from the bed. "Help me get dressed."


    She was the Princess of Dragonstone, and the Small Council could not bypass her. Rhaegar may have had selfish motives, but the purpose of suppressing the Faith of the Seven was more than just a trivial joke. As long as the Faith of the Seven defied the crown, the Targaryens would be constrained. Rhaegar had conquered the Triarchy and Dorne, and he had finally gained the opportunity he had been waiting for.


    Sara helped her out of bed and quickly fetched a long, sleeveless dress. She said casually, "You don''t need to show your face. It will disturb the baby."


    "I''m Rhaegar''s sister!" Rhaenyra retorted. "Alicent is a foolish woman. Only I can keep her in check in King''s Landing. She won''t be able to cause any trouble for my brother."


    After getting dressed, she was ready to go out. As she was about to step out of the bedroom, she caught a glimpse of a sword hanging on the wall. There, hanging on the wall, was a delicate one-handed sword. A Valyrian steel sword��The Realm''s Delight.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes narrowed, and she turned back with her pregnant belly, taking down the exclusive house sword from the wall.


    Swish!


    The de of the sword was unsheathed, and the silver-white de reflected the refracted light of the water ripples. The hilt was in the shape of a cross, with a brilliant sun and a full moon engraved on the front and back, respectively.


    Pat-ta-ta.


    Rhaenyra was satisfied and swung her hand to put the sword back in its sheath. She turned around and strode out of the door. The sword had not yet seen blood.


    If Alicent dares to make a fuss, Rhaegar may be unable to kill her. But as his sister, she will let that evil stepmother see if The Realm''s Delight is as good as it is made out to be.


    ...


    The Council Hall.


    Rhaenyra entered with a determined look and a threatening air about her.


    The two Kingsguard at the door hesitated, unsure if they should stop the princess. They nced at each other in confusion until Rhaenyra''s fierce re caused them to bow their heads and step aside.


    Meanwhile, a heated argument raged inside.


    Alicent, no longer calm, rose from her chair, her voice raised, "I will not allow anyone to disrupt the harmonious rtionship between the royal family and the Faith of the Seven. If Viserys were sober, he would never allow it!"


    As his wife for many years, she knew Viserys well. A man who often sought lessons from history books, he was cautious. The ancient Valyrians had used dragons to conquer the world but were ultimately destroyed by a cataclysmic disaster. After losing Balerion, Viserys had grown wary of dragons and resisted using them to disrupt peace.


    Maegor I''s brutal attacks on the Faith of the Seven had left a dark legacy. Viserys followed his grandfather Jaehaerys'' political path, maintaining good rtions with the Faith of the Seven and often granting their requests. Alicent was confident that her husband would support her stance.


    "Gulp..."


    She raised the wine goblet to her lips and took a sip, unconsciously trying to cover her inexplicable guilt. Viserys would support her. They were husband and wife. Though she had asked Maester Munkun to give her sleeping husband some milk of the poppy, it wasn''t because she feared he would wake up and oppose her.


    That dim-witted husband who favored their eldest son. Alicent clenched her teeth, her fingers going white with tension.


    Bang!


    The hall door was abruptly pushed open. Alicent was startled and looked up.


    The two Kingsguard, who had been bribed by Alicent, opened the door quickly and forcefully with their heads bowed. Alicent was stunned, unable to react.


    "Alicent, you have no right to represent my father!" Rhaenyra dered, her head held high as she entered the hall with great momentum. Her appearance shocked everyone.


    Tormund and Orwyle stood up at once, greeting her in unison, "Princess."


    They were the two advisers Rhaegar had helped to rise to power, so they quickly responded to Rhaenyra''s entrance. The queen''s position was powerful, so there was no point in arguing, but now, the Princess had arrived, and the bnce of power had shifted.


    Rhaenyra graciously waved the two men to sit down and walked straight to her former friend, demanding, "Why wasn��t I informed of the Small Council meeting?"


    "Rhaenyra, you..." Alicent stammered, looking her up and down.


    Rhaenyra��s long, silky, silver-blonde hair was loose and unkempt. Her beautiful face was free of makeup, and she wore no other jewelry. It was obvious she had rushed over. She held a silver sword in one hand and her big belly in the other.


    Alicent''s pupils constricted, and she eximed in rm, "Rhaenyra, you''re a pregnant woman, about to give birth, and you''re running around with a weapon? Have you forgotten all about your noble upbringing!?"


    This was a stereotype of Westeros. Noble girls were expected to receive ady''s education, learn to spin and weave, and be taught to read and count. Girls were not allowed to hold swords, and their most powerful influence was limited to managing the household affairs of their husbands'' castles.


    Rhaenyra had served as the king��s wine steward and learned to govern at the Small Council, all out of special favor as the heir to the Iron Throne.


    "I don''t want to discuss trivial matters. Answer my questions!"


    Rhaenyra mmed her sword down on the table, the sound echoing through the room. Then she calmly sat down in Rhaegar''s former ce, her voice steady and stern. "What authority do you have to bypass the Small Council and convoke it in my ce? By what right do you use the heir to the throne?"


    Her words were sharp, her usations precise.


    Alicent, taken aback by Rhaenyra''s boldness, struggled to find a rebuttal.


    By thews of the realm,


    The Queen has no right to assume the role of regent or to use the heir prince without a cause.


    Conversely, Rhaenyra, as the Princess of Dragonstone, retains her right to participate in the Small Council despite her altered session status.


    Alicent, trembling with anger, whispered through clenched teeth, "Rhaenyra, the Maester said you are inbor. You should return to your chambers and rest."


    Theplications of carrying twins differ greatly from a normal pregnancy.


    Ignoring Alicent''s concerns, Rhaenyra retorted sharply, "The peace treaty signed by my great-grandfather was intended to quell rebellion, not to elevate the Faith of the Seven above the king. As Queen, it is your duty to remain rational."


    The room fell silent, shocked by her open defiance of both the queen and the Faith of the Seven, sentiments many had secretly harbored.


    Alicent, near a breaking point, shouted toward the doorway, "Kingsguard, the Princess is pregnant. Escort her to her quarters!"


    Prepared for opposition, Alicent had already stationed guards nearby.


    Two Kingsguard stood at the ready, and at hermand, they entered with heads held high, though visibly uneasy.


    Rhaenyra��s re bore into them.


    Ser Rickard Thorne of House Thorne in the Crownds, a lesser noble��s second son.


    And Ser Willis Fell of House Fell in the Stornds, from an unimportant branch of the family.


    The brothers Erryk and Arryk, protectors of the king, were still recovering from their injuries.


    Cole had returned to the Kingsguard but he''s in Dorne.


    Loyalists Lorent and Steffon vigntly guarded the royal chambers.


    Rhaenyra, confident no one would dare defy her,manded, "Leave the Council Hall, Sers. I will overlook this breach of protocol."


    The two Kingsguard exchanged nces before responding in unison, "The King has instructed us to protect the Queen. Forgive us, Princess."


    Rhaenyra��s expression hardened.


    Alicent sneered, "Save your breath. They know their allegiance lies with the true mistress of the Red Keep. Now, tend to your condition."


    "Utter nonsense!" Rhaenyra snapped, her temper ring.


    Stunned, Alicent briefly wondered if she had misheard.


    Rhaenyra, ignoring further provocations, signaled to Tormund across the table.


    She had previously secured the loyalty of two Kingsguard under the guise of friendship.


    With the City Watch, the Dragonpit Knights, and the Kingsguard under her sway, shemanded significant power��even in Rhaegar��s absence.


    Tormund caught her nce and nodded silently.


    Outside, a white falcon soared from the hall, a signal understood by all.


    Alicent, aware of the Skinchangers'' mysterious ways, ordered hastily, "Secure the Princess immediately and do not disrupt the Small Council further."


    Exhausted by the ongoing resistance, she hoped to seize the moment to solidify her sons'' im to the throne while King Viserys slumbered, unaware of the unfolding chaos.


    The two conflicted Kingsguard advanced, murmuring regretfully, "Princess, please make this easy for us."


    Despite their remorse, they werepelled by duty.


    The Kingsguard, a revered order, often found redemption unless charged with treason.


    Rhaenyra remained seated, defiantly pushing The Realm��s Delight across the table, and asked calmly, "Do you truly dare?"


    The two hesitated, turning to the Queen for guidance.


    Alicent, anxious, covered her face with one hand while gesturing with the other, "Just don''t hurt her."


    As they reached out, the atmosphere tensed, the implications of their actions dawning on everyone present.


    Rhaenyra recoiled instinctively, her dignity affronted.


    If the Kingsguard forcibly removed a Princess from the Council Hall, it would scandalize the realm for decades.


    Just as Rhaenyra prepared tosh out, a frail voice pierced the tense silence from outside, "Insolent! Leave her alone!"

 Chapter 461: Alicent Suffers a Sword Cut

    Chapter 461: Alicent Suffers a Sword Cut


    A familiar voice echoed through the hall, causing the two Kingsguard and Alicent to freeze.


    Rhaenyra turned quickly to the source of the sound.


    In the long corridor leading to the council chamber, a slightly stooped figure approached.


    "Father."


    Rhaenyra''s face was a mask of surprise, wondering how her father had awakened.


    "Leave us. Didn''t you hear me?"


    Viserys, pale but determined, wore the crown of authority.


    Alicent, caught off guard, stammered, "Viserys, why are you here?"


    Realizing her mistake, she quickly fell silent.


    Several figures gathered behind Viserys.


    Lorent and Steffon, members of the Kingsguard, red at the two brothers in the hall.


    Maester Munkun, who had been bribed, stood with a calm expression.


    Alicent''s personal maid, Tera, stood with her head bowed, avoiding eye contact.


    Understanding dawned on Alicent.


    Maester Munkun spoke, his tone measured, "I am sorry, but every Maester must uphold justice or he is unworthy to serve the realm."


    He could not betray his conscience, especially after the king had treated him so well.


    Tera, the White Worm''s secret agent andter joined as a member of the Master of Whisperers birds, trembled in the background.


    ''I''m sorry, I have always been an undercover agent.''


    Viserys surveyed the room and waved his hand dismissively, "Take these traitors who dared to threaten my daughter."


    "Yes, Your Grace!"


    Lorent and Steffon quickly moved to disarm and capture the two Kingsguard brothers, who did not resist.


    ng!


    The situation intensified as a deputymander of the royal guard led his team into the corridor, weapons at the ready.


    Seeing the king, the youngmander hesitated, "Your Grace, the Red Keep is on lockdown. Please give your orders."


    Viserys, startled, looked at Rhaenyra seated in the chair.


    With unwavering confidence, Rhaenyramanded, "Guard the corridor and remain on standby."


    "Yes!"


    The deputymander responded, leading his team to secure the corridor exit.


    The tension in the room eased slightly as everyone began to grasp the unfolding events.


    Alicent was the first to react, rushing to her husband, her voice frantic, "Viserys, listen to me. Rhaegar tried to��"


    "Silence!"


    Viserys''s face darkened, his voice thunderous.


    Alicent froze, mere steps from her husband, unable to move closer.


    Rhaenyra seized the moment, pushing The Realm''s Delight away.


    Today, Alicent would face the consequences of her actions.


    As Viserys''s shouting subsided, he began to pant, clearly exhausted.


    Maester Munkun had not administered any milk of the poppy, instead awakening Viserys from hisa.


    His prolonged bedridden state had weakened him significantly.


    "Viserys..."


    Alicent, tears streaming, stood paralyzed with guilt.


    "I said shut up."


    Viserys''s gaze was sorrowful as he looked at his wife. "Alicent, I never thought you could be so foolish."


    Alicent shook her head, feeling as if the ground had given way beneath her.


    "Don''t bother arguing. I know everything."


    Viserys''s voice was heavy with disappointment. "You are my wife, yet you treat the children so harshly. You couldn''t wait to tear our family apart before my death!?"


    His breathing grew erratic, and he began to cough.


    He couldn''t fathom how much chaos had erupted during the two months he had been unconscious.


    Viserys was well aware of the strained rtionship between Alicent and his eldest son and daughter. Before his marriage to Alicent, she and Rhaenyra had been inseparable, sharing everything as best friends.


    The marriage changed everything, with Rhaenyra feeling deeply betrayed. The threat posed by Alicent''s children to the session led to the formation of the rival factions known as the cks and Greens.


    Fortunately, his eldest son, wise and capable, managed to keep his younger siblings in line, and they all went to war together. Viserys had cherished the times spent with his children, riding dragons on the battlefields of Dorne.


    Despite a near assassination, his passion for dragon riding remained undiminished. He was especially impressed with Aemond, who was determined to protect him, and felt immense pride in his eldest son and second daughter��s timely arrival.


    The arrival of the seven Targaryen dragon riders at Dorne was a significant honor for the realm.


    As these thoughts swirled in his mind, Viserys'' gaze hardened and he spoke in a low, authoritative voice, "Alicent, you''ve overstepped your bounds! You should never have interfered with the Small Council while I was incapacitated."


    He recalled how Alicent had ignored the dignity of his eldest son and openly threatened his eldest daughter in front of the royal advisers. If he hadn��t awakened in time, Rhaenyra wouldn��t have had control of the Kinsguard. What would have happened to his poor pregnant daughter?


    Alicent, unable to contain her frustration, shouted hoarsely, "Viserys, I''m sick of your favoritism! Rhaegar wants to tear up the peace treaty between His Grace the Old King and the Faith of the Seven. Do you even understand the implications, or are you just pretending to be ignorant? The Faith of the Seven nearly toppled Targaryen rule, and you were the one who reversed the tide. Breaking the treaty is courting disaster."


    Pop!


    Viserys, enraged, pped her across the face. "Who do you think you are? House Hightower taught you nothing about power struggles. You think you know everything, but you''re no better than a country bumpkin!"


    Alicent, stunned and devastated, retorted, "Don''t you believe in the Seven Gods? Why do you pray to them every night? You invoke Queen Aemma''s name to bless your children!"


    "Alicent!" Viserys''s eyes turned red at the mention of histe wife Aemma.


    But someone was even angrier than he was.


    "Alicent, don''t you dare mention my mother''s name!" Rhaenyra stood up, gripping her sword tightly, and charged at Alicent.


    Alicent, seemingly mad, paid no heed to the reactions of father and daughter, crying out, "What''s wrong with mentioning it? When he was in bed with me, he called out the names of other women. Am I guilty for that?"


    Since marrying Viserys, Alicent had felt like a living ghost. Used by her father, unloved by her husband, and with children she deemed useless, she was consumed by despair. Who could understand her needs, or truly love her?


    "You are a shameless slut, seducing your best friend''s father and stealing your children''s birthright!" Rhaenyra''s fury was palpable as she drew The Realm''s Delight.


    Viserys, shocked and weakened, tried to call out to the Kingsguard to stop her.


    "I gave up the throne to Rhaegar long ago. You forced me into this! You wouldn''t even let me have a ce to live!" Alicent, unafraid, revealed the depths of her suffering.


    Seeing her old friend approach, she became even angrier, advancing without fear. She was the queen, and she demanded respect.


    "Bitch, go to hell!" Rhaenyra screamed, her eyes zing with hatred.


    In a split second before the Kingsguard lunged, Rhaenyra swung her one-handed sword.


    "Ah!"


    Alicent, instinctively raising her hand to block, was struck with a terrifying realization as the de descended.


    Sizzling��


    The de sliced through skin, and blood spattered everywhere.


    "Alicent!"


    Viserys''s eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat.


    He saw Alicent raising her hands in front of her face, the sword shing diagonally across her arms. The green sleeve with gold thread was torn, instantly soaked in blood.


    A gruesome gash ran from her left wrist to her right elbow, an 18-inch wound. Her pale skin was a mess, flesh syed open like petals, revealing the white bones of her forearm.


    "Ah!"


    Alicent let out a piercing cry, copsing to the ground, unable to stand. Her noble green dress was stained with blood, and she trembled uncontrobly.


    The pain was excruciating, as if her arms were on fire and being rubbed with hot salt. She wished she could sever them to end the agony.


    Rhaenyra seemed to sense Alicent''s thoughts, raising her sword again with a fierce gaze. "Alicent, you are a scourge!"


    She swung again, aiming for Alicent��s head, but was blocked just in time.


    Unfortunately, she had lost her initial advantage.


    The nearest Kingsguard, Steffon, leapt forward, grabbed the sword, and disarmed the Princess with a swift motion.


    Viserys shouted, "Rhaenyra, you''re mad!"


    Rhaenyra dropped the sword, standing in a daze, her mind nk. Looking down at Alicent, who had fainted, she was momentarily disoriented.


    Viserys''s body shook, his head seeming to explode. "If you killed Alicent, what will your brothers and sisters think of you and Rhaegar?!"


    The delicate bnce between the families could easily lead to tragedy if upset.


    Rhaenyra, forehead slick with cold sweat, knew the danger she was in but insisted, "If we don��t eliminate her, the royal family will fall to the Hightowers sooner orter."


    "Rhaenyra, my firstborn," Viserys said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. He looked between Alicent��s unconscious form and his daughter. "You and Rhaegar must not be tainted by Alicent��s blood."


    Rhaenyra nced at the onlookers, then avoided her father''s gaze.


    Viserys sighed deeply. "Leave her to me, and I promise she won��t affect you and Rhaegar anymore."


    "What will you do with her?" Rhaenyra asked, not convinced.


    "First, she will be confined to the temple," Viserys said. "When Rhaegar returns, we��ll decide her fate together."


    Rhaenyra was silent. This oue was far from satisfying.


    Viserys took The Realm��s Delight from Ser Steffon and handed it to his daughter, his expression conflicted. "You''re pregnant. Leave the rest to your father."


    He knew the family issues could no longer be ignored. The long-simmering tensions had erupted with the conflict between the two women.


    Rhaenyra hesitated, then touched her pregnant belly with her left hand. Resolutely, she took the sword and walked out.


    "Rhaenyra," Viserys called after her, unable to find words offort.


    His eyes fell on the unconscious Alicent. Her arms exposed, a pool of blood beneath her, she looked pale as a corpse. Her hair was disheveled, and she was covered in wounds, no longer resembling a queen.


    "How could you be so foolish?" Viserys muttered vacantly, repeating the phrase as he signaled the Kingsguard to take her away.


    Finally, he said, "Lock her in the tower of the cathedral and allow no visitors except to deliver food and water."


    Lyonel hesitated, then pointed at the two Kingsguard who had epted bribes. "Your Grace, these two knights should be detained for trial."


    Viserys, seemingly indifferent, replied, "No trial is needed. Return their bodies to their families for burial."


    With a single sentence, he sealed their fate.


    "Your Grace..."


    The two Kingsguard hurriedly knelt, desperate for the king''s mercy.


    Bang! Bang!


    Lorent and Steffon delivered swift kicks and punches, dragging the disgraced knights away with force.


    A breach of principle could not be forgiven.


    Viserys nced at his royal advisers onest time, thinking of their role in safeguarding the kingdom during his absence. Forcing a smile, he said, "Everyone, disperse."


    As he turned to leave, he felt a sudden dizziness and fell backward.


    "Your Grace!"


    Maester Munkun reacted quickly, catching the king before he could hit the ground.


    Lyonel and the others rushed over, the scene immediately descending into chaos.


    "Your Grace... Your Grace..."


    "Send a letter to Oldtown and recall the heir prince immediately!"


    "..."


    ...


    Meanwhile,


    Rhaenyra returned to her chambers, cradling her stomach.


    "Princess..."


    In the bedroom, her foster daughters, Ba and Rhaena, were crouching by the door and greeted her anxiously.


    "You''re here."


    Rhaenyra closed the door behind her, leaning against the door frame for support. She reached into the long hem of her skirt with her right hand.


    At first, she felt nothing.


    Then a cool hand met a warm, wet sensation between her legs.


    When she looked at her hand, she saw blood.


    Her distress had triggered the rupture of her water.


    "Princess?"


    The twins, rmed at the sight of blood, immediately surrounded her.


    "It''s nothing. I''m going intobor."


    Rhaenyra forced a wry smile, looking at Ba first. "Go tell Grand Maester Orwyle I''m inbor."


    "Okay!"


    Ba nodded repeatedly.


    Rhaenyra then turned to the shy Rhaena and spoke softly, "Go to the Master of Whisperers and ask him to send a letter to your mother, telling her to ride Vhagar to King''s Landing."


    Having Laena by her side would bring herfort.


    "Mm-hmm!"


    Rhaena nodded eagerly.


    "Good girl." Rhaenyra felt a wave of relief and moved to the bed.


    The twins quickly opened the door and rushed out.


    As soon as Rhaenyra sat down on the bed, she looked up to see Sara standing at the door.


    Sara''s face was solemn, but she nodded reassuringly.


    Rhaenyra smiled, her heart finally at peace.


    The twins were quick at their tasks.


    In less than half an hour, Orwyle arrived with the midwife and the maid, practically flying through the halls.


    The king had Maester Munkun with him, so Orwyle had to hurry to the Princess.


    Bang!


    The door closed and the maids helped Rhaenyra lie down.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes were tightly shut, fear gripping her heart.


    She suddenly regretted not agreeing to Alicent''s n to summon Rhaegar back sooner.


    And she regretted not killing Alicent when she had the chance.


    She feared she wouldn''t survive the birthing bed, wouldn''t see Rhaegar again, let alone deal with Alicent.


    "Mother, please keep me and my child safe."


    Rhaenyra prayed silently, and then the pain hit her.


    The next second, her screams of childbirth echoed throughout the Red Keep.

 Chapter 462: The Birth of a Young Dragon

    Chapter 462: The Birth of a Young Dragon


    Nightfall, Oldtown.


    Starry Sept.


    Rhaegary on his back in the center of the Seven Gods'' sculpture, his eyes slightly closed, breathing steadily and powerfully.


    The great sword Dawny beside him, its de like transparent crystal, reflecting the starlight and moonlight.


    Outside, the holy sisters knelt in prayer, undisturbed by the sight before them.


    After seven days and nights of observation, they had be convinced that the handsome Prince before them was a manifestation of the gods. How else could he have remained so vibrant for seven days and nights without food or drink?


    Every night, he summoned the light of the stars to shine on him, enhancing the brilliance of his silvery-gold hair.


    These phenomena defied conventional exnation.


    No outsider would know.


    At this moment, Rhaegar drifted into a deep sleep and into dreand.


    In his dreams, war and fire intertwined, dragons and disasters surged together.


    Rhaegar''s vision blurred as he was drawn into a battlefield thick with smoke.


    He looked down to see himself wearing a helmet of Valyrian steel, as dark as night and shrouded in ck mist.


    He raised his hands, one holding the sword Truefyre, the other the Lost dragon w.


    Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!


    An inexplicable horn sounded, and he felt a burning sensation throughout his body, as if his blood was boiling.


    Rhaegar listened intently, reverting to his Dragonborn state, his purple eyes transforming into vertical pupils.


    The sound of the horn changed, piercing through the fog.


    Ancient, heavy, and hot...


    "This is not my battlefield."


    Half-conscious, Rhaegar realized this was a dream.


    Like the recurring nightmares that had haunted him since childhood.


    Pop!


    With this realization, the world before him shattered like a spider web.


    The scene changed, his perspective split in two.


    One view was of the Red Keep in King''s Landing, the other a Dragonpit resembling King''s Landing.


    Rhaegar thought he had woken from the dream and stood there, confused, as a bystander.


    The Red Keep was shrouded in white mist, obscuring everything.


    The Dragonpit was clear.


    It was called the Dragonpit because there were three dragon eggs in a straw nest within a closed space.


    The eggs'' shells were scaly and varied in color.


    One was bright red like a me, another blue like the sea.


    Thest egg was ck on the upper third and red on the lower two-thirds, resembling a ck egg sitting on a me.


    "Roar..."


    A faint snorting sound came from thest dragon egg, and cracks began to appear on its surface.


    Crack!


    The shell split open, and a small head began to emerge.


    Rhaegar sensed something was amiss.


    He heard a distant voice whisper in his ear.


    "Congrattions, the Heart of the Stars has been activated. You have obtained..."


    The voice faded, and the dream copsed.


    Starry Sept.


    Rhaegar opened his eyes and sat up abruptly, as if resurrected.


    "A dream!"


    Rhaegar''s face paled, and he pressed his fingers together, letting out a long sigh of relief.


    It had been a long time since he''d had such a vivid dream, especially since the war began.


    At that moment, murmurs drifted from afar.


    With his keen senses, Rhaegar turned his head towards the altar where the holy sisters were gathered.


    "The Son of God has awakened. His hair glows like a silver-gold star..."


    "The dragon outside the temple sleeps soundly, capable of swallowing ten goats at a time..."


    "Shh, keep your voice down. Pray to the Seven Gods..."


    Rhaegar overheard fragments of their conversation but paid it no further attention.


    His gaze fell on the great sword, Dawn.


    The milky white de had turned transparent and shiny, dusted with stardust, its appearancepletely transformed.


    "The relic has been activated."


    Rhaegar muttered, then reached out to touch the sword.


    ng!


    A piece of milky white iron fell to the ground,nding next to Dawn.


    Immediately, Dawn began to hum and tremble, as if it were wailing.


    The milky white iron ingot acted like a ma, greedily absorbing the starlight from Dawn''s de, stripping away its transformed transparency.


    After a while,


    Dawn returned to its original milky white color.


    The iron ingot transformed into a bright white light, imbued with the magic of starlight, and began to rapidly change.


    Rhaegar was stunned. He had never imagined that the relic would contain a starlight-absorbing parasite.


    The explorer system panel appeared.


    Seven Gods'' Blessing


    Level: Legendary (Red)


    Effect: +50% magic talent


    Comment: "A gift of starlight magic, which enhances all aspects of your talent."


    Rhaegar was slightly startled and held the white light in his palm, careful not to pierce it.


    The newly acquired relic seemed simr to [Blood and Fire] and [True Dragon''s Blood], enhancing his talents. However, unlike thetter two, which were exclusive to the Fire and Blood of the Targaryens, this blessing was moreprehensive.


    "Should I try to learn Starlight Magic?" Rhaegar mused, pinching his chin.


    He hadn��t yet mastered Pyromancy, and the prospect of delving into starlight or other forms of magic seemed unnecessary. Targaryen dragons and fire magic were formidable enough. The so-called "blessing of the Seven" felt somewhat redundant.


    Rhaegar frowned, pondering, "Why does it feel more like a resource for future generations?"


    His fire magic talent was already maxed out, and he didn''t need additional bonuses.


    Then, he recalled the scene from his dream.


    "The nest, the dragon egg, breaking the shell..."


    A sense of foreboding washed over him. "Could it be that Rhaenyra is giving birth?"


    He calcted that she had been pregnant for eight months. Grand Maester Orwyle had predicted the baby would arrive next month, marking the ninth month. A normal pregnancysts ten months, but with twins, earlybor was likely. Laena had also given birth to twins after nine months.


    "No, I have to go back."


    Clear-headed, Rhaegar picked up his greatsword, Dawn, and strode out.


    The holy sisters were startled and blocked his path, their faces solemn. "Prince, there is still one night left of the seven days and nights youmitted to. Please don��t forsake all your efforts."


    Rhaegar didn''t have time to argue. His body suddenly burst into mes.


    "Ahhh!"


    The holy sisters recoiled, making way for him. But their eyes were not filled with fear; rather, they held a reverent awe.


    Rhaegar paused, ncing back at the closed inner chamber deep within the temple. A faint glow flickered in his eyes.


    An old chatan had dared to waste his time for seven days and nights.


    "I!"


    Rhaegar''s voice, though soft, drew the attention of the holy sisters.


    The holy sisters dared not approach him, clinging to their faith in ignorance.


    Rhaegar observed quietly, considering the exaggerated rumors of recent days. A sh of inspiration came to him: "After seven days of enlightenment, the seven gods have taught me the truth of the world, it seems they favor me."


    The holy sisters held their breath, barely believing their ears.


    Rhaegar wasted no time. His eyes fell on a Seven Star Bible lying at the feet of the statue of the Father. He walked over and picked up the thick tome with both hands.


    He turned to the chapters dealing with the conflicts between gods and humans and the worldly power struggles and tore them out.


    In front of the Holy Sisters, Rhaegar walked out with the Bible in his hands and said cryptically, "The Father guides me, the Warrior gives me strength, and the Stranger reveals the cycle of life and death."


    "The old gods have retreated, and the old faith of the Seven is confused and unclear. The new gods will soon spread the new Faith of the Seven to every corner of Westeros. I am the practitioner of this new religion, the favored of the Seven, the bearer of their will."


    Finally, Rhaegar looked back at the seven tall statues, made a prayerful gesture, and solemnly dered, "In my secr capacity, I will build a Seven-Star Cathedral in King''s Landing that will surpass the Starry Sept. I will recruit followers of the Seven Gods to learn about the new religion."


    "Protestantism?"


    "A Seven-Star Cathedral..."


    "The future king himself preaching the doctrine..."


    The holy sisters murmured among themselves, then excitement boiled over.


    Outside the Starry Sept, Rhaegar quickly tucked the tattered Seven Star Bible into his space ne and climbed onto the back of Cannibal.


    The daily gossip had given him inspiration.


    The Faith of the Seven was powerful, embraced by both nobles andmoners across Westeros. However, this did not necessarily make the High Septon powerful.


    Rhaegar nned to reshape the Faith of the Seven to his own ends.


    If the new religion spread, he could establish a new, updated set of rules.


    Although the Faith of the Seven seemed brilliant and glorious, it had many doctrinal holes.


    Rhaegar identified these gaps and modified the content to appeal to both nobles andmoners.


    He wanted tp make sure it resonated with everyone.


    For example, the power of the Stranger.


    It was said the Stranger was the god of death, taking the souls of the dead.


    But where did the souls go? Heaven or hell?


    Rhaegar could say, "The good go to heaven, the bad to hell."


    The doctrine did not describe heaven, only that it was beautiful.


    Simrly, hell was vaguely depicted, only meant to instill fear.


    Rhaegar wanted to introduce visualizations of heaven and hell, embedding these concepts deeply in people''s minds, creating an inherent ideology.


    Compared to the ambiguous beliefs of the Seven, the teachings of Protestantism were much clearer.


    As heir prince, Rhaegar would build a great cathedral and recruit followers.


    This new path would directly challenge the old Starry Sept of the Faith of the Seven.


    In time, it would change the minds of the people from the divine right of the Septon to the divine right of Kings.


    A new Protestant Bible would be written, with the final interpretation left to the Targaryen dynasty.


    This new doctrine would allow Rhaegar to marry as many women as he wanted, minimizing the power of the gods.


    The king''smands would be the word of God, and the Targaryens would be above themon people.


    Would the High Septon object? He has dragons! They were all holed up in their chambers now, but if they dared to interfere...


    "Cannibal, return to King''s Landing at full speed!"


    Rhaegar mounted his saddle and rode his dragon into the night.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal let out a roar, shook its massive body, pped its wings, and soared into the night sky.


    Rhaegar looked down at the shrinking Oldtown and thought to himself, "I''ll be back!"


    Next time, he wouldn''t give them so many chances.


    ...


    At the same time, within the confines of the Princess''s chamber in the Red Keep.


    A strained groan pierced the tense air, followed by a series ofbored breaths.


    The midwife and maids scurried about, carrying basins of hot water and fresh towels in preparation for the impending birth.


    Creak��


    The door swung open abruptly as a figure d in a red and white dragon-riding outfit burst into the room.


    Laena, eyes wide with concern, scanned the room for her friend.


    The cries ofbor filled the room, echoing off the stone walls.


    Rhaenyray on the bed, her body slick with sweat, gripping the sheets tightly.


    Laena rushed to her side. "Rhaenyra, I heard your cries from across the hall. How are you holding up?"


    She quickly assessed the situation.


    Rhaenyra''s white gown was hitched up, stained a vivid red from thebor. Her face, contorted with pain, was flushed as another cry of agony escaped her lips. "I can''t give birth yet. Neither of my children wants to be the elder brother."


    Laena paused, realizing the gravity of the moment was no time for jests.


    She turned her gaze sharply towards Grand Maester Orwyle. "She''s been inbor for hours. Isn��t there anything you can do to help?"


    Orwyle��s expression was grave as he pondered theplexities of childbirth. It was a perilous and unpredictable process, varying dramatically from one woman to another.


    "Ah!"


    Rhaenyra screamed again, her eyes brimming with tears as her body arched in torment.


    "Rhaenyra, are you alright?" Laena''s voice wasced with concern as she grasped her friend''s hand, eyes darting to the activity beneath the skirts.


    Despite having experienced childbirth herself, Laena felt overwhelmed. If not for Rhaegar''s intervention during her second pregnancy, she might not have survived.


    "I can��t bear this any longer!" Rhaenyra gasped out in despair.


    "What''s wrong?" Laena asked, her face nching.


    Rhaenyra clenched her teeth, determination flickering across her face. "It��s time. The little ones can��t wait any longer."


    A pained wail escted into a crescendo, and then, piercing the tense atmosphere, the cry of a newborn resonated through the chamber.


    "Wa wa wa~~"


    "Rhaegar, you wretched man!" Rhaenyra cursed through gritted teeth.


    No sooner had the first cry ebbed than a second, equally vigorous wail filled the room.


    "Wa wa wa~~"


    The room, once tense with anticipation and fear, now echoed with the cries of new life, marking the arrival of not one, but two heirs into the tumultuous world of the Red Keep.

 Chapter 463: Sealord’s Sacrifice, Young Dragon’s Hatching

    Chapter 463: Sealord��s Sacrifice, Young Dragon��s Hatching


    Upon hearing the newborns'' cries, the servants of the Red Keep breathed a collective sigh of relief. No matter their duties, they paused to join their hands in a sincere wish for the well-being of the children.


    Princess Rhaenyra, beloved since her childhood and known as "The Realm''s Delight," along with her brother Rhaegar, who had cleaned the streets of King''s Landing, mobilized the homeless to cultivate wastnds, and provided shelters for orphans, were held in high regard. Their deeds had earned them the affection and praise of the people.


    The birth of Rhaenyra''s children was not merely a familial joy but a momentous asion celebrated by all, seen as the continuation of a noble lineage deserving the attention of both old and new gods.


    In the princess''s bedroom, Rhaenyray on the bed, herplexion pale and her eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and awe as she embraced her new role as a mother. The pain ofbor receded as she eagerly looked to see the infants she had just brought into the world. She remembered the stories Rhaegar told her about infants being switched at birth, and she was determined not to let such a fate befall her children.


    "Don''t worry, your children are right here," Laena reassured her, wiping the sweat from Rhaenyra''s forehead with a gentle touch.


    Meanwhile, Grand Maester Orwyle efficiently performed the necessary post-birth procedures. He swiftly cut the umbilical cords and secured them with knots. Rhaenyra watched anxiously, her throat hoarse from exertion but her mind somewhat eased by Laena''s reassurances.


    The midwife carefully washed the newborns in warm water, inspecting them thoroughly before finally handing them to Rhaenyra. "The arms are normal, the legs are normal," she reported, confirming their health.


    Rhaenyra''s face lit up with joy as she held her children for the first time. "Praise the Mother, they are lively children," she eximed, herughter filling the room. Holding one baby in each arm, she looked to Laena, her expression one of both pride and relief. "They are healthy children, right?"


    "Absolutely!" Laena responded, her smile broad as she brushed away a silver strand of hair from Rhaenyra''s forehead.


    Rhaenyra couldn''t contain herughter as she opened the swaddling clothes to better view her sons. The infant in her left arm wriggled, his tiny hands reaching out as if to grasp the world, while the one in her righty quiet but alert.


    "Why are they so pale?" Rhaenyra wondered aloud, gently stroking the silvery-gold fuzz atop their heads.


    "They are certainly your children!" the midwife chimed in, her voice warm and cheerful. "I''ve never seen such fair babies at birth. They��re absolutely adorable."


    Unlike the typical newborn''s red and wrinkled appearance, Rhaenyra''s twins were surprisingly pristine and rosy.


    "Pop! Pop!"


    Rhaenyra gazed lovingly at her newborns, kissing each on the cheek.


    The two infants remained calm, nestled in their mother��s arms, absorbing her warmth.


    Laena watched with a mixture of envy and admiration. "Rhaenyra, you truly have two wonderful children," she whispered.


    Rhaenyra''s smile widened as she inhaled the sweet scent of the newborns. "Rhaegar will be overjoyed when he sees them."


    "Roar..."


    A loud dragon roar suddenly echoed from the balcony, followed by a thud and the smell of something burning.


    "Rhaegar!?" Rhaenyra turned swiftly, eager to see her beloved.


    She saw a yellow-orange dragon head peering through the window, itsrge, round eyes fixed on her.


    Laena, momentarily stunned, then chuckled. "It seems someone''s dragon is very responsible."


    Syrax crouched at the window, wings raised to block the sunlight, hind legs nted firmly on the balcony, resembling a giant yellow lizard clinging to the wall.


    "Roar..."


    The dragon''s vertical pupils dted with excitement as it spotted its rider and let out a joyous roar.


    Syrax lived in the backyard of the Godswood and had sensed Rhaenyra''s emotional turmoil during childbirth and rushed to her aid.


    Rhaenyra sighed, looking fondly at her dragon. "Good girl, I''m a mother now. Go rest."


    Although it wasn��t Rhaegar, Syrax''s presence brought her immensefort. The dragon had been her loyalpanion since childhood.


    "Roar..."


    Syrax blinked with an almostical understanding before pping back to the garden.


    Laena hugged her friend gently. "Lord Lyonel has sent a letter to recall Rhaegar. You��ll see him soon."


    "Mm."


    Rhaenyra nodded, leaning into Laena''s embrace, closing her eyes in exhaustion.


    ...


    Meanwhile, Rhaegar was flying back at breakneck speed.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal soared through the skies, crossing the Mander River basin without slowing.


    Rhaegar leaned against the dragon��s back to reduce wind resistance, his eyes fixed ahead.


    He guessed that Rhaenyra had given birth and was racing back to her side.


    ...


    Late at night, beyond the Narrow Sea in Braavos, a ndestine operation was underway. A small group of men discreetly transported wooden barrels deep into the underground corridors of a remote harbor, the bottom of the carts cushioned with soft sand to muffle their passage. These barrels, filled with rare and potent wildfire, emitted a strong, pungent odor that hung heavy in the air.


    Soon, a carriage approached slowly, and a tall figure with silver curls stepped out, cursing under his breath. "Damn the management of the Iron Bank. Without sufficient funds, how can Ipete with the Iron Throne?" he grumbled. The moonlight revealed his face��the Sealord of Braavos, Ferrego.


    Apanied by a handsome swordsman, always at his side, Ferrego''s bloodshot eyes and impatient expression betrayed his tension. "Have you arranged for the pyromancers and bloodmages?" he demanded.


    "All are involved in the n," the swordsman replied in a low voice.


    "Good!" Ferrego��s mood shifted to excitement. "This is ourst chance. Everything depends on tonight!"


    For half a year, Ferrego had meticulously nned the incubation of a dragon egg, and now, atst, the moment had arrived. He entered the underground pce, followed closely by his loyal knight. As the heavy doors closed behind them, sealing in the guards with the wildfire, Ferrego vowed to keep the operation a secret, not even confiding in his wives and concubines.


    Thus began the long-awaited sacrificial ceremony. Time ticked by slowly.


    Outside the harbor, a carriage stopped on a purple bridge, far from the port. A curtain lifted to reveal a young man with purple curls and mismatched eyes��one yellow, one green��peering shrewdly at the hidden entrance to the underground pce. "What is Ferrego up to? He''s so secretive," he mused.


    The young man, Sparda, was a representative of the powerful families behind the Iron Bank. Since Ferrego''s election as Sealord, his failures had only fueled their dissatisfaction and disgust.


    "Let''s wait and see," Sparda muttered, settling back in his carriage, waiting for Ferrego to falter.


    Midnight descended, and Braavosy in near-total darkness, the quiet punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city��s nightlife. Suddenly, a deafening explosion shattered the silence. The ground shook, and the granite walls of the underground pce cracked.


    A second st followed, and then a third. Greenish fire erupted like a volcanic inferno, lighting up the night sky. The harbor quaked as explosions continued, the earth copsing beneath the force.


    Sparda, jolted awake by the noise, lifted the curtain just in time to see a torrent of foul-smelling heat rushing towards him. The carriage and horses were thrown back, nearly toppling off the bridge as the horses screamed in agony. Sparda felt a burning heat on his face before losing consciousness.


    The underground pce copsed entirely, the wildfire��s relentless eruption consuming everything in its path. Braavos, plunged into chaos, was illuminated by an eerie, bright green fire that burned with an insatiable hunger, devouring all in its wake.


    ...


    The next day dawned, still cloaked in darkness. The fire had consumed everything, leaving the harbor in smoldering ruins. Broken limbs and charred corpses littered thendscape, a grim testament to the night''s devastation. The entire poption of Braavos had not slept, huddling in their homes, gripped by fear of the rumored Deathwing attack.


    Deep within what remained of the underground pce, now a pile of rubble, a massive dragonboney in the dust, its impressive length undeniable even without its skull. Surrounding the skeleton were the charred bodies of those whom Ferrego had hired to hatch the dragon eggs. Ferrego had misunderstood the alchemist''s instructions, using wildfire to incubate the eggs��a fatal error that cost him his life.


    Suddenly, a crisp sound broke the silence. Beneath the bones, three oval dragon eggs, buried in ashes, began to shake as if drawn by an unseen force. Cracks appeared in their shells.


    Click! The middle egg broke open, revealing a small ck dragon head. The dragon, its head norger than a fist, looked around curiously, the charred shell still clinging to its top.


    Click! Click! Two more cracking sounds followed, and the remaining eggs split open. Two small creatures, each the size of domestic cats, emerged. One waspletely red with slightly gray wing membranes that it tried to spread. The other had blue scales with deep stripes, its back scales and wing membranes tinged with light red.


    A faint hissing sound came from the ck dragon still partially stuck in its shell. It was the first to hiss, biting through the remaining shell to reveal its entire body. Its ck scales were highlighted with red on its back and wings, and its head bore small horns and lively amber pupils.


    As the sun began to rise, a rooster crowed. The ck dragon, startled by the sound, pped its wings in panic and burst out of the cramped ruins. Its siblings, the red and blue dragons, followed suit, imitating their brother with shrill cries. Though they struggled to fly and couldn''t yet breathe Dragonfire, they managed to stabilize themselves in the air.


    The ck dragon, driven by instinct, resisted the ruins of its birth and flew toward the sea. The other two dragons hesitated, snorting at each other in defiance before choosing their own paths. The red dragon, wild and unruly, headed east towards the rising sun, flying along a deserted ditch. The blue dragon, timid by nature, spotted a field and flew south.


    Had anyone been there to witness, they would have noted the significance of the dragons'' chosen directions. The ck dragon, repelled by the rooster''s crow and the ind beneath, fled west, opposite the rising sun. Across the Narrow Seay Westeros, the fabled Western Continent.

 Chapter 464: Family Reunion

    Chapter 464: Family Reunion


    Dragonstone Ind, across the sea.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibaly panting before the stone drum tower, its chest heaving from the exertion of a night-long flight from Oldtown to Dragonstone.


    Inside the stone drum tower, a figure hurried out. "Cannibal, let''s go," Rhaegar called, his face beaming with excitement as he cradled two dragon eggs in his arms��one bronze, the other dark green. These were precious relics from the ruins of the Dragonlords families, intended for the children''s cradle.


    Cannibal''s deep, green eyes flickered as it spread its wings and prepared for flight. Rhaegar mounted the dragon, securing the eggs against his chest. With a powerful whoosh, the dragon''s jet-ck wings unfurled, and they soared into the sky.


    Rhaegar''s smile never wavered as they left Dragonstone behind, heading toward King''s Landing. Soon, they entered the ckwater Bay area. Suddenly, the sea below began to churn subtly, and the atmosphere seemed to shift.


    "Hmm?" Rhaegar nced around, sensing something amiss.


    "Roar!" The Cannibal''s heightened senses had detected it first. The dragon turned its neck, eyes fixed on the northeast corner of the Narrow Sea, toward the Shivering Sea.


    Rhaegar followed the dragon''s gaze. In that directiony w Isle and Gulltown, and further north, White Harbor and the Three Sisters Inds. Across the Narrow Sea was Braavos, one of the Nine Free Cities.


    "Roar!" Cannibal let out a hoarse growl, dragon saliva dripping from its mouth. Rhaegar shuddered, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. Since his transformation into a Dragonborn, his sensitivity to magic had intensified.


    The steady tide of magic had stirred, as if a pebble had been thrown into still waters. This subtle shift, imperceptible to normal people or even pyromancers, was as clear to Rhaegar as a fly buzzing past his face or a drop of waternding on his ear.


    "Cannibal, you sense it too, don''t you?" Rhaegar patted the dragon''s back, his thoughts drifting. Since the appearance of the Red Comet, the tide of magic had been rising, revitalizing both dragons and dragonlords. This resurgence was like a nourishing mother''s milk to a baby, creating an environment offort and growth.


    The sudden tremor in the magical tide unsettled him.


    "Roar!" The Cannibal''s cold, green pupils scanned the horizon, sniffing the air, trying to pinpoint the disturbance.


    Rhaegar stroked the dragon egg in his arms, contemting the possibility. After a moment, he said, "Let''s return to King''s Landing first. Then we''ll investigate around the Shivering Sea." He suspected the source of the magical disturbance was near Braavos. With Dorne conquered and the Oldtown issue settled, Braavos would soon need to ount to House Targaryen.


    "Roar!" The Cannibal roared, pping its wings as they flew over ckwater Bay. As they ascended through the clouds, the dragon cast a final, inquisitive nce back, its green pupils reflecting a deep, unspoken question.


    ...


    King''s Landing


    As dawn broke over King''s Landing, the sun rose, casting its first light over the bustling streets of Flea Bottom. The early risers were already out, busy making a living.


    Roar!


    A ck dragon soared into the sky from the Mud Gate, its massive wings blotting out the sun like a dark, ominous cloud. The dragon circled the city before slowly descending into the back garden of the Red Keep.


    Maegor''s Holdfast, Princess''s Bedroom


    In the princess��s bedroom, Rhaenyray on a chaise longue, her eyes tender as she cradled two swaddled babies. Suddenly, the door burst open with a bang.


    Rhaegar rushed in, his eyes locking onto Rhaenyra as she hummed a luby to soothe the children. The song halted abruptly. Rhaenyra looked up, her eyes lighting up with a radiant smile. Rhaegar stood transfixed, overwhelmed by the sight before him.


    Rhaenyra kissed the baby''s face and said, "Come on, the children are waiting for you."


    Rhaegar snapped back to the present and hurried forward, carefully setting down the dragon eggs he had brought. He approached the recliner and squatted down, his purple eyes wide with emotion as he looked at Rhaenyra and the two tiny faces swaddled in her arms.


    "What, don''t you have anything to say?" Rhaenyra asked, adjusting herself into a morefortable position, her smile growing.


    "On the contrary, I have so much to say," Rhaegar replied, his voice thick with emotion. He reached out and gently held one of the baby''s tiny feet,ughing with pure joy. "Balerion be praised, you really have two babies in your arms."


    Rhaegar��s expression softened as he felt the delicate life in his hands, his heart melting.


    "Do you want to hold them?" Rhaenyra offered a swaddled cloth.


    "Of course!" Rhaegar answered immediately. Instead of taking the cloth, he gently embraced Rhaenyra, burying his head in her neck. "Rhaenyra, I''m home," he whispered. He loved children, but he loved the mother of his children even more. Children were an extension of one''s emotions, but they could never rece the person in one��s heart.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes softened further as she rubbed her cheek against his head, softlyining, "You haven''t been back for a long time."


    Rhaegar tightened his embrace, saying nothing. Since the rebellion in Dorne, it had taken two months just to prepare for Dragon''s Wroth. Including the time spent nning, he and Rhaenyra had been apart for four months��the longest separation since he became heir.


    "Look up. I don''t me you," Rhaenyra said softly, enjoying the closeness.


    Rhaegar obediently looked up and noticed her slightly paleplexion. Concerned, he asked, "Let me guess, something must have happened while I was away from King''s Landing, right?"


    "You didn''t receive a letter from the Hand of the King?"


    "Letter?"


    Rhaenyra was taken aback. "You really didn''t receive a letter? Why did you return to King''s Landing?"


    Rhaegar replied sincerely, "I felt my child was bornst night, and I rode the Cannibal dragon back to King''s Landing."


    The Cannibal was known for its speed, and the dragon''s wings had almost smoked from the journey.


    "You''re something else," Rhaenyraughed, skipping over the question. She brought the two swaddled babies closer together and changed the subject: "Come and see, the two babies look exactly like you when you were little."


    Rhaegar took the swaddling clothes and observed them closely. He knew better than to spoil the joy of the moment, understanding that sometimes, happiness was best savored without probing too deeply into the worries that could cloud it.


    He lifted the swaddling cloths and gazed at the two children intently. They were tiny, their white, delicate arms and chubby legs resembling bamboo stalks, their faces norger than his palm. One slept soundly, thumb in mouth, while the other, legs exposed, swung his chubby limbs unconsciously��the little feet Rhaegar had just touched.


    Entranced by the sight, Rhaegar asked, "They look so simr. Which one is the older brother?"


    Rhaenyra gently touched the child sucking his thumb. "This is the older brother. He was born five minutes before his younger brother," she said proudly, her chin lifting slightly.


    Rhaegar tried to distinguish between the two. The older brothery on his left, the younger with the dangling legs on his right. He looked up to see Rhaenyra''s expectant smile. She dered, "Compared to conquering Dorne, you''re the true hero, oveing the hardest challenges."


    Rhaenyra''s yful snort turned intoughter, and Rhaegar joined in, raising his left arm to examine his eldest son. "A healthy baby who can eat and sleep��definitely my heir, the future king on the Iron Throne."


    Rhaenyra��s smile widened, her amusement clear. Rhaegar then raised his right arm and kissed his second son��s cheek. "Look at him, even exercising in his sleep. He''ll be a powerful warrior and dragon rider, conquering the Disputed Lands and supporting his brother."


    "Haha, you really know how to make me happy," Rhaenyra said, charmed by the family warmth but still pragmatic. "Are you sure you want to give him the entire Disputed Lands?"


    "Why not?" Rhaegar replied confidently.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes sparkled with relief. "You can assign them as you wish. I am confident I can raise them well."


    Rhaegar''s actions and words hinted at his intentions��his children were destined for greatness, with the Iron Throne and the Narrow Sea as their inheritance. He kissed the children repeatedly, savoring their presence. Legally and emotionally, his eldest son would be his unshakable heir. Beyond the Iron Throne, there were manynds to bestow upon the princes. The second son, if capable, would lead conquests in Essos, expanding their domain. If less so, he would inherit the title of Prince of Lys from Rhaenyra, keeping control over Daemon and Aegon.


    Breathing in the sweet scent of milk, Rhaegar suggested, "We need to give the children names befitting their status."


    "You''ve finallye to your senses," Rhaenyra teased, rolling her eyes. "Father is still bedridden. I want him to name the children when he wakes up."


    Rhaegar paused, then agreed. "Yes, that''s the right thing to do."


    Naming was not his greatest strength, and Rhaenyra had often mocked his choices for their swords. He noticed two exquisite yellow pine cradles at the edge of the bed and gently ced the children in them, covering them with soft silk nkets.


    Rhaegar took out two dragon eggs, full of hope. "Shall I ce them, or will you?"


    Rhaenyra took a dragon egg and looked at him. "One each. You can''t have them all."


    Rhaegar grinned and ced the bronze dragon egg in the firstborn''s cradle. He wondered how pure the blood of these children would be, considering he had not yet transformed into a dragonborn when Rhaenyra conceived. The pros and cons of being a dragonborn were yet to be seen in them.


    Rhaenyra ced the dark green dragon egg in the second son��s cradle. Rhaegar, returning from his thoughts, looked at the two beautiful, innocent children. These healthy babies, he was sure, would grow up to achieve greatness.

 Chapter 465: Blessed by the Stars, the Young Dragons are Born

    Chapter 465: Blessed by the Stars, the Young Dragons are Born


    "Guess when they''ll hatch?" Rhaenyra asked excitedly, pinching her child''s cheeks.


    "Don''t pinch them, they''ll drool," Rhaegar gently chided, stroking her face. Her cheeks were soft and plump, even softer than custard pudding.


    Rhaenyra pouted and reluctantly withdrew her hand. Rhaegar smiled, trying to make up for it. He flipped his right hand over, and a halo of light appeared out of thin air. Rhaenyra stared in surprise. Rhaegar had many mysteries, but he rarely revealed them to her.


    "This is a treasure I acquired in the Starry Sept, a gift from the Seven Gods," Rhaegar said casually, deliberately showing it to Rhaenyra.


    Rhaenyra, intrigued but restrained, asked, "What is it for?"


    Rhaegar smiled, knowing she guessed it was for the children. "A gift for the birth of our children, to bestow certain blessings," he exined. He reached into the halo with both hands and split it in two like an apple.


    A system panel appeared before him:


    Seven Gods'' Blessing


    Level: Legendary to Rare (Blue)


    Effect: +50% magic talent, Stars Blessing


    Comment: "The gift of the Stars is divided into two, nurturing a blessing of excellence."


    A legendary relic transformed into two rare ones. Rhaegar held a halo of white light the size of an apple in each hand, feeling no regret��only excitement. The relic could be divided, and as its level dropped, it adapted into a new form. The original magic talent blessing had be a stars blessing, which was still quite valuable.


    "Children, are you ready?" Rhaegar said, amused, as he ced the two halos in the cradle.


    Rhaenyra watched intently, her eyes wide with concern and wonder, ensuring she didn''t miss a single detail.


    Hum...


    The halos glowed brightly, sensing something before disappearing into the two children''s round bellies. A system prompt sounded in Rhaegar''s ear.


    "Stars blessing activated, triggering effect determination..."


    Rhaegar watched as the two children''s bodies emitted a radiant mix of red, white, and green light, shining and rotating. The light first stopped on the eldest son.


    [Born Warrior]


    Level: Rare (Blue)


    Function: Favored by Warriors, born with extraordinary fighting talent.


    Comment: "Excellent physique, agile, but too young to be burdened with such a task."


    Before Rhaegar could take a closer look, the light of the second son also solidified.


    [Unforgettable]


    Level: Rare (Blue)


    Function: Flexible thinking, learns everything far beyond the average person.


    Comment: "Don''t let him read too many books, unless you want his rebellious period toe early."


    "Wow!" Rhaegar was stunned. These two blessings essentiallyid the foundation for the future lives of his children. The Longevity (Green) he received as a child and the Long Lasting Face (White) triggered by Rhaenyra seemed less valuable than the Stars blessing.


    Of course, blessing relics are usually most suitable for the user''s needs. Rhaegar was born sick, so Longevity helped him ovee his illnesses. The blessings of his two children, one for martial prowess and one for intellectual prowess, were added talents.


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed as he looked at his eldest son, who was fast asleep. He thought to himself, "You have to discipline a child when they''re young, or they won''t listen when they''re older."


    A lesson learned the hard way. Before the age of ten, he was oppressed and disciplined by Rhaenyra daily. Only after he grew taller than her was he able to turn the tables, treating her as she had treated him. After that, Rhaenyra never spanked him again.


    Soon, the light faded, and everything returned to normal. Rhaenyra, unable to see the magical disy, couldn''t wait to ask, "What''s changed? Is it for the better?"


    "Of course," Rhaegar replied, sitting on the edge of the recliner and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "They are blessed children."


    Rhaenyra patted her chest in relief.


    At that moment, a childlike grunt sounded. The eldest son opened his eyes in confusion, his little hands scratching around randomly as his body twisted. Bound by swaddling clothes, he wriggled like a caterpir, exerting effort to free his chubby legs.


    Bang! His right leg kicked hard,nding on the bronze dragon egg next to him. The egg shook slightly but then settled back against his little feet.


    "Ooh~" The eldest son grunted with effort, his face flushing as he kicked the dragon egg, pushing it back and forth like a ser ball.


    Click!


    A crisp sound suddenly echoed through the room, catching Rhaegar��s attention. His spirits lifted as he nced first at his eldest son��s cradle and saw the diligent baby ying with the dragon egg.


    ��He��s awake? And not crying or fussing,�� Rhaegar noted, pleasantly surprised.


    But it wasn''t his eldest son who was causing themotion. His gaze shifted to his second son''s cradle. Unlike his busy older brother, the younger one was still fast asleep. Somehow, the baby had managed to push aside his swaddling clothes and roll onto his side. His face, pressed against the nket like a plump peach, was all flesh and softness. It was hard to believe that these twins, born prematurely at eight months, had developed so well.


    Rhaegar immediately moved closer to inspect the cradle. The babyy on its side, its tiny hands clutching the dark green dragon egg. The newborn and the oval dragon egg were nearly the same size. The baby, apparently dreaming, had its head pressed against the egg, its mouth open as if to nibble at it. Drool trickled down the corner of his mouth, sticky and slimy.


    "Good thing he didn''t bite it," Rhaegar thought, remembering that this dragon egg had been found in fossilized dragon droppings.


    Click!


    The dark green dragon egg shook slightly and cracks began to appear on the shell.


    "Is it hatching?" Rhaegar whispered, a mixture of surprise and joy in his voice.


    "Let me see," Rhaenyra said,ing to life. She climbed out of her chair and peered intently at the cradle.


    Crack, crack, crack... The shell of the dragon egg continued to crack, gradually turning into a shattered mosaic. The baby, still nibbling at the egg, began to stick out its tongue and lick it.


    Rhaegar and Rhaenyra watched closely, their eyes never leaving the egg.


    ��Roar...�� Finally, a small, dark green dragon head broke through the shell, emitting its first feeble roar.


    Then, an unexpected miracle urred. As soon as the baby dragon emerged, it fell forward, tumbling over the egg.


    ��Aww~�� The baby persistently grasped the dragon, opening his mouth to bite down on one of the dragon��s wings.


    ��Roar...�� The baby dragon screeched in surprise. It hadn��t expected to be attacked so soon after being born and was ready to retaliate.


    ��Shut up!�� Rhaegar acted quickly, shoving his hand into the baby dragon��s mouth, saving his child from potential harm.


    ��Ga!�� The young dragon, its mouth stuffed with Rhaegar''s fist, snorted in frustration.


    Rhaenyra, shocked, swiftly separated her son from the baby dragon.


    ��Wa wa wa~~�� Deprived of the "delicious" object in his dream, the little one awoke and cried in distress.


    Rhaenyra, a mix of anger and fear in her eyes, picked up the baby and cradled him, loosening her sling to breastfeed him. The baby immediately stopped crying, his purple eyes gazing up at his mother with a teary but contented look.


    Rhaenyra lightly pped his little butt and said in a scolding tone, ��You��re really hungry, aren��t you? Trying to eat anything you can find.��


    ��It��s not his fault,�� Rhaegar interjected, looking at the baby with a peculiar mix of amusement and concern, trying to smooth things over.


    "Roar..."


    The young dragon was terrified, struggling to hiss. Rhaegar withdrew his hand, gently grabbing the dragon''s wing and cradling it in his arms. He stroked the small dragon''s head, secretly summoning the magic of fire to nourish its body. The young dragon shivered at first, but gradually rxed, its tense body softening as it allowed itself to be petted like a kitten.


    "Be a good boy," Rhaegar murmured.


    He took the opportunity to closely examine the young dragon''s appearance. The egg had been excavated from the ruins of House Berys, different from the eggs of House Targaryen.


    The young dragon had dark green scales, ck pearl-like horns on its head, and bright red wing membranes. At first nce, it resembled two red mushrooms growing on a clump of moss. Its body shape was simr to that of a young Tessarion or Stormcloud, appearing quite normal and unremarkable.


    Itcked the distinctive, massive heads of Morghul or Tyraxes, and it was not a mutant like the snake-like Caraxes.


    Rhaegar noted theck of obvious dorsal scales on the dragon''s neck or tail, which was consistent with the Cannibal, Vermithor, and Caraxes. The scales were a functional feature, varying ording to the dragon''s needs. Dragons like Dreamfyre, Syrax, and Seasmoke had distinct dorsal scales.


    The most intriguing part of this young dragon was its slightly elongated, curled tail. Rhaegar couldn''t tell if this was an individual trait or a matter of bloodline.


    Rhaenyra, observing his scrutiny, asked, "What��s different about the dragons of House Berys?"


    "The young dragon has just hatched, so it''s hard to tell," Rhaegar replied, not wanting to jump to conclusions. He ced the dragon back in its cradle.


    "Roar..." The young dragon whined reluctantly, lying down on the quilt and looking pitifully at the world.


    Rhaenyra mused, "Forty Dragonlord families lived together in THE Fourteen mes. Even if the dragons are different breeds, they must have interbred with each other."


    She considered the difficulty of determining whether dragons with distinct differences, such as Morghul and Caraxes, belonged to different bloodlines. The color and shape of dragonfire could also indicate some connection, as seen with Sheepstealer and Grey Ghost, whose dragonfire differed significantly from that of Vhagar and Vermithor.


    Rhaegar, still hoping for a unique trait from the Berys family dragon egg, smiled and said, "When the young dragons grow a bit, we can observe their appearance and dragonfire."


    "As you wish," Rhaenyra replied, smiling and emphasizing, "This young dragon will belong to the little one in my arms in the future."


    No one had expected the egg from House Berys to hatch just a day after the baby was born. This egg had been sealed for hundreds of years, and the chances of it hatching were slim. Rhaegar was convinced: "Of course. When the little one grows up, it will be just right to ride the a young dragon."


    The rtionship between dragons and men isplex and dependent on fate. The fact that this egg retained its vitality for over a century suggested something special. The little one''s ability to hatch it proved that dragon and human were meant to be together.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes sparkled with pride. "When I was small, I hatched Syrax. From the eggs itid, new young dragons will also hatch," she dered, raising her chin defiantly.


    Rhaegar nced at his eldest son in the cradle. The baby stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, reaching for things, but the bronze dragon egg under his feet showed no signs of hatching.


    The same parents had given birth to them, yet they were so different. "Is it really my problem?" Rhaegar wondered.


    After all, few Targaryens were capable of hatching a dragon egg in a cradle. The ck egg he had as a child was still in the Dragonpit. It should, perhaps...


    No, It wasn''t his fault!

 Chapter 466: The Miraculous Effects of the Soul Restoring Orchid

    Chapter 466: The Miraculous Effects of the Soul Restoring Orchid


    Knock, knock...


    Someone was knocking on the door.


    Laena''s voice came from outside the bedroom. "Rhaenyra, may Ie in?"


    "Come in!" Rhaenyra quickly agreed.


    The door creaked open, and Laena stepped in, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw Rhaegar training a young dragon. "Rhaegar, another dragon?"


    "Cousin, thank you foring all the way from Driftmark," Rhaegar said, putting down the baby dragon and rising to greet her.


    Laena chuckled. "It''s nothing. I''m just d Rhaenyra has given birth safely."


    Rhaenyra, who was nursing her baby, turned her head to cover herself, interrupting, "Is something wrong?"


    Noticing her difort, Rhaegar draped a thin nket over her back.


    Laena watched the couple''s tender interaction, momentarily speechless. Then she remembered her purpose. "The Cannibal has arrived at the Red Keep. The Hand of the King sent me to find you, Rhaegar. There��s much to be done."


    From the king''sa to the queen''s power y, and the financial strains and gathering of undesirable elements by the Greens, the issues required the attention of the heir prince, who also held regent powers.


    Rhaegar''s expression darkened slightly as he realized the gravity of the situation. Sensing his concern, Laena continued, "Alicent fed the king poppy milk to manipte the Small Council, but the situation is now stabilized."


    She added that the king had stopped Alicent but had fallen back into aa. Upon hearing this, Rhaegar''s face immediately turned grim.


    After a moment''s thought, he decided to see his father first. "I''ll check on my father."


    Rhaenyra agreed. "I''ll go with you."


    She also wanted to take the two children. Rhaegar did not object, taking the eldest son first, leaving Laena to help Rhaenyra change clothes. The young dark green dragon was also taken and handed over to the Dragonkeeper stationed at the Red Keep to be sent to the Dragonpit.


    As they climbed the stairs, Laena walked behind, her eyes on the two boys. "Rhaenyra, you''re amazing, solving the heir problem in one fell swoop."


    Rhaenyra turned back, trying tofort her. "You will have more children in the future. The Maester''s diagnosis is not always urate."


    After a difficult birth, Laena had been told it would be hard for her to conceive again. She shook her head, showing no disappointment, and suggested, "You are my good friend and the foster mother of my daughters. Would you consider a marriage alliance between our houses?"


    "This..." Rhaenyra hesitated, clearly tempted.


    Rhaegar took over, smiling. "There''s no rush. The children are still young. If they like each other in the future, we can consider a marriage contract."


    Rhaenyra looked stunned but Rhaegar gave her a reassuring look. The proposal was indeed tempting. With Laenor''s death, Laena was set to be a representative of House Vryon and a future councilor of Lys. A marriage alliance would strengthen ties with Daemon and the Sea Snake, bringing them closer to the royal family.


    Laena, sensing the hint of refusal, smiled. "That''s good. The children growing up together will surely develop feelings for each other."


    Rhaegar smiled back and continued helping Rhaenyra upstairs. He anticipated Daemon and the Sea Snake''s power would expand significantly in the next decade. While a marriage alliance would strengthen the royal family, it would also ce heavy expectations on them. He didn��t want Daemon and the Sea Snake to wield undue influence or make it difficult to take necessary actions if they made mistakes. Moreover, the children were still young, and premature arrangements might prevent them from finding more suitable matches in the future.


    ...


    The King��s Chambers


    Rhaegar entered the king��s chambers with his eldest son in his arms, met by two Kingsguard standing at attention. Their eyes lit up at the sight of the heir prince and the swaddled baby.


    "I''vee to see my father," Rhaegar announced.


    "Pleasee in, Prince!" one of the Kingsguard responded, quickly opening the door.


    With yesterday��s farce still fresh in their minds��the heir prince''s return from Oldtown and the Princess giving birth to two little Princes��the Kingsguard hoped that things would soon be back on track.


    Rhaenyra entered first, followed by Rhaegar and their child. Inside, Grand Maester Orwyle and Maester Munkun were deep in discussion, their faces etched with worry. Upon seeing Rhaegar, Orwyle quickly bowed and greeted him, "Prince!"


    "Shh!" Rhaegar whispered, leaning closer to the bedroom door. He peered through the bead curtain and saw his father unconscious on the bed. "Has anything been found out?" he asked.


    Orwyle shook his head sadly. "Unfortunately, no."


    "He��s just in shock. There��s no sign of any external injury," Rhaegar said, frowning deeply.


    Orwyle remained silent, the unusual nature of the king��s condition troubling him deeply. The unhealing wound had been a harbinger of worse toe.


    Maester Munkun spoke up. "I once obtained a Valyrian steel chain ring of the ult and know a little about magic. Perhaps I can help."


    "Tell me," Rhaegar urged, taking the word "magic" very seriously.


    Munkun nodded to Orwyle before continuing. "I read about a simr case in the autobiography of a wandering healer. It described changes in the body after a shock, lethargy, or a loss of spirit."


    He paused. "Some young children fall intoas, which is called ''loss of soul.''"


    "Soul?" Rhaegar��s brows knitted together, finding this a challenging problem. Despite his unique physical and magical abilities, he had never studied the soul. Pyromancer knowledge, runes, and the dragonborn transformation process seemed rted to the soul, but none were suitable for healing.


    After a moment of thought, Rhaegar asked, "Are there any ancient texts that describe how to heal this? Do we need the help of a healer?" He knew of a few people with peculiar skills��Greenhand Gar, the Red Priest Varys, and the Red Priestess of the Red Temple.


    "Useless!" Munkun shook his head. "That wandering healer was not very capable. His autobiography is mostly an exaggeration. The soul is not a physical body and cannot be easily tampered with."


    Rhaegar pondered. "If the healer is no good, there must be a special treatment form?"


    "Ancient texts record several strange nts and minerals that can refresh the mind and perhaps help the soul," Munkun said.


    "Where can I find them?" Rhaegar inquired.


    "Prince, you can see for yourself," Munkun replied with some embarrassment. He picked up a yellowed parchment from the table and handed it to Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar scanned it carefully, his face growing solemn. Munkun exined, "The old books are from Valyria, about 380 years ago. The nts and minerals were buried in thends of the Long Summer - the Smoking Sea."


    Rhaegar closed the book with a thud, his moodplicated. The Smoking Sea was not a ce one could venture lightly.


    Orwyle and Munkun kept their eyes down, adhering to the golden rule of silence. Rhaenyra stepped forward, worry etched on her face, and took Rhaegar��s hand. Laena spoke up solemnly, "Daemon and I once wanted to explore the coast, but Vhagar and Caraxes were very resistant. We failed."


    Rhaegar''s mind raced as he repeated a passage from the ancient text. "It grows on carrion, looks like an orchid, its pollen is fragrant, and picking it can nourish the spirit." It was very simr to the description of the Soul Restoring Orchid he had found.


    "Rhaenyra, do you still have any of the powder I gave you?" Rhaegar asked. There had been two Soul Restoring Orchid powders, and his had been used up long ago during the war.


    Rhaenyra paused for a moment, then quickly replied, "There''s still a little left."


    She pushed open the door and called for someone to fetch it. Seeing this, Munkun breathed a sigh of relief and left with Orwyle.


    Soon, Sara, the maid, arrived with a delicate powder box. Rhaegar opened it and found that about a third of the powder remained, enough for roughly a month''s use. The Soul Restoring Orchid, which grows in the Smoking Sea, is incredibly rare and difficult to obtain.


    Rhaegar had used the powder sparingly, only sprinkling a little on his pillow asionally. Now, he hoped it might help his father. He sprinkled some of the powder on Viserys��s pillow and then gently reached out to hold his father''s hand. Summoning his fire magic, he sought to stimte the blood flow in Viserys��s body.


    One minute, two minutes... Ten minutes passed. Rhaegar��s forehead was covered in a fineyer of sweat, and his body temperature rose noticeably. The eldest son in his arms squirmed, kicking his legs in difort from the heat.


    "Mmm-hmm," Viserys groaned, his face gradually flushing with color.


    Overjoyed, Rhaegar put his struggling son on the bed and called softly, "Father, wake up."


    Viserys opened his eyes slowly, disoriented. He saw his eldest son and asked, "Rhaegar, you��re back?"


    "Yes, Father. You suddenly fainted yesterday, so I hurried back to King''s Landingst night," Rhaegar exined. "How do you feel? Are you still dizzy?"


    Viserys, still confused, replied, "Not bad. I feel more spirited than yesterday, and my body is warm."


    Rhaegar and Rhaenyra exchanged relieved smiles.


    "Wait!" Viserys''s eyes fell on the baby in Rhaenyra''s arms. "This child...?"


    Didn''t he just fall into aa a day ago? Yesterday, Rhaenyra was still pregnant, and today she held a baby.


    "Ooh-wa-wa~" The sound of a young, squeaky voice came from nearby.


    Viserys turned his head. A white, clean babyy beside him, staring up with clear, purple eyes. The old king and the baby locked eyes, studying each other.


    "Gurgle~" The baby tilted his head, thumb in his mouth, his little tummy gurgling.


    Viserys��s spirit brightened, and he almost jumped out of bed. He pinched the baby��s chubby hand and his eyes shone with affection. After a moment, he turned to Rhaenyra and said, "The child is so small, how can he grow tall and strong on an empty stomach?"


    Rhaenyra blushed and handed her second son to Laena, then took the eldest son and began to breastfeed him. It was amusing that the eldest son remained particrly calm and quiet, no matter what was done to him.


    Viserys eagerly reached out. "Show me this little guy."


    Laena handed over the baby, causing a flurry of contented grunting. Viserys��s face split into a broad smile as he held the little one, pinching his meaty legs. "This little one has such strength. He will definitely grow up to be a great warrior."


    Rhaegar smiled. "The one in Rhaenyra��s arms is a natural warrior."


    "Don''t jump to conclusions. You should believe that children have infinite possibilities," Viserys gently corrected, teasing the little one and then turning back to Rhaenyra. "Who is the older twin? Have you named them yet?"

 Chapter 467: Baelon and Aemon

    Chapter 467: Baelon and Aemon


    The King��s Chambers


    "This one in my arms is the elder brother," Rhaenyra said with a proud smile.


    "Oh, then this little one here must be the younger brother," Viserys teased, cradling the baby.


    Rhaenyra beamed. "He''s amazing. He hatched the dragon egg on his first day of life."


    "Then he is a natural-born dragon knight," Viserys marveled, looking at his grandson with even greater affection. A descendant with such pure blood was a true blessing. "They''re both wonderful and will both be the best dragon knights in the future."


    Rhaegar, feeling the warmth of the moment, added, "The two children haven''t been named yet."


    Viserys''s eyes lit up, and a newfound strength seemed to infuse his frail body. Rhaegar smiled, "Rhaenyra and I agree that as their grandfather, you should have the honor of naming them."


    Viserys, excited and touched, nodded eagerly. Rhaenyra encouraged him further, "Father, the naming rights of the children are officially in your hands."


    "Good! Good!" Viserys said, repeating himself in his joy. In the loving presence of his family, his happiness was palpable, and his pain seemed to fade.


    Rhaegar watched his father with a hopeful smile, wishing that the newborns would bring Viserys renewed vigor and a prolonged life. He wanted his father to be there for many more years, sharing in their joys and challenges.


    "You are really, really good children," Viserys said, understanding his children''s intentions. His eyes welled up with tears as he gazed at his family.


    After a moment of thoughtful consideration, Viserys made up his mind. With the expectant eyes of Rhaenyra, Rhaegar, and Laena upon him, he spoke firmly, "Baelon! This child will be named Baelon Targaryen, after your grandfather."


    Rhaenyra looked thoughtfully at her father, then nodded in approval. Rhaegar added, "Good, this child will be called Baelon. May he be as brave as his grandfather."


    The name Baelon had a special significance, honoring Rhaegar''ste grandfather, a name chosen long ago by Viserys.


    "I''m d you like it," Viserys said, looking down at his grandson, who was babbling and blowing bubbles. "Baelon''s best friend was Aemon Targaryen. They were the pride of their generation."


    Rhaegar listened quietly, knowing what his youngest son''s name would be. As expected, his father continued, "This child will be named Aemon. I hope they can be as close as those two brothers were and be the pride of an era."


    Aemon and Baelon, heirs to the Iron Throne and brave warriors. Their namesakes had tamed dragons and brought glory to the realm.


    Rhaegar and Rhaenyra exchanged a look of mutual understanding, both satisfied with the meaningful names.


    Rhaenyra pinched Baelon''s cheek, ignoring that he was still nursing, andughed, "Did you hear that? Your grandfather named you Baelon."


    "That''s a good name, for sure!" Viserys said proudly.


    The room filled withughter. Laena, who had been watching the entire time, joined in, sitting by the bed and looking at baby Aemon. "He will be a fine Targaryen, inheriting his grandfather''s name," she said softly.


    Viserys wiped the smile from his face and looked at Laena with soft eyes. "My cousin couldn��t continue Aemon''s glory, so I named this little one in the hope that it would be a constion to your mother."


    "I think my mother would have loved this little one very much," Laena smiled softly.


    Viserys nodded seriously. "When the war in Dorne is over and Rhaenys returns to King''s Landing, she must hold this child in her arms."


    Laena, slightly distracted, said, "Thank you, Your Grace."


    "We are family!" Viserys said warmly, setting aside his kingly airs.


    At the 101st Great Council, Viserys hadpeted with Rhaenys for the Iron Throne. Although he emerged victorious, he lived in constant fear of the Sea Snake''s rebellion for the next ten years, enduring sleepless nights.


    Over time, his rtionship with Rhaenys deteriorated, filled with resentment and mistrust. Even Rhaegar''s victory over Driftmark and the promation of the Dragon''s Law with Corlys, which restricted House Vryon from taming dragons, couldn��t heal the rift between them.


    Now, with six wonderful children and twin grandchildren, Viserys felt a profound sense of security. His once troubled heart was at peace. In contrast, Rhaenys had lost her eldest son Laenor, and House Vryon was forced to submit to the Iron Throne.


    Viserys''s resentment had dissipated. He only wished to care for his lonely cousin and strengthen the bond between their families. Laena��s eyes shed with warmth, feeling the genuine kindness of the king.


    The room fell into a rare moment of peaceful silence. After a quarter of an hour, the two children had fallen asleep, their eyes closing peacefully. Viserys, though loving the children dearly, felt his shoulders aching and reluctantly handed Aemon back to Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar took his son and then addressed another pressing issue. "Father, what do you want to do about Alicent?"


    Viserys, stunned by the question, fell silent. After a long pause, he said, "You and Rhaenyra don''t need to worry about it. I will handle it myself, and it won''t affect you."


    Rhaegar understood the unspoken meaning. This "you" referred not just to him and Rhaenyra but also included Aegon, Hena, and their other siblings. His father had a n.


    Viserys suddenlyughed and patted Rhaegar''s shoulder. "Don''t think too much about it. Alicent went too far this time."


    Rhaegar remained silent, aplex expression on his face. The baby in his arms moved, and little Aemon hummed in his sleep. Rhaegar stroked his son''s rosy cheeks, then nced at his father''s left hand, noting the missing ring and little fingers, pale and wrinkled.


    A realization struck him. "I''m a father too?" The thought stunned him, deepening his understanding of the word. His father would do anything for him, including dealing with Alicent.


    The father and son fell silent together. Rhaenyra gently rocked the cradle, noticing the somber atmosphere and feeling a mix of curiosity and unease. She realized that her father''s mention of "dealing with it" wasn''t about covering up for Alicent.


    Rhaenyra��s chest tightened with a strange mix of emotions. Sensitive to the tension, Laena gave her a look and quietly left the room. Rhaenyra hesitated but then followed her out, not wanting to be involved in the ns between father and son.


    Left alone, the atmosphere grew even more somber. After a long silence, Rhaegar spoke. "I''ll go see Alicentter."


    "There''s no need," Viserys replied.


    "It''s better to see each other and talk things over face to face," Rhaegar insisted.


    Holding his younger son, Rhaegar ced the Soul Restoring Orchid powder box on the bedside table. "I''ll be going to Oldtown in a couple of days. You just rest and rx. I''ll take care of everything."


    He smiled reassuringly and left the bedroom with the baby. Viserys watched him leave, raising his hand as if to stop him, but it hung in the air, unable to fall. He understood his son''s intentions and felt there might be room for maneuver.


    Viserys was lost in thought, surrounded by the mixed scents of medicine, orchid, and baby milk brought by his family.


    Outside the Bedroom


    Two Kingsguard stood guard at the door, watching as the heir prince and Princess disappeared down the corridor. Suddenly, a restrained sob came from the bedroom behind the door. Startled, the Kingsguard lowered their heads, trying to make themselves less noticeable.


    ...


    Behind Maegor''s Holdfast, the Hall of the Seven.


    Rhaegar and Rhaenyra left their father''s bedroom and headed directly to the ce where the queen was being held. Laena had already left to inform the Hand of the King to prepare for a Small Council meeting.


    The hall was adorned with statues of the seven gods, ced against the four walls and encircling the open space. In the center stood a round altar, prominently disying the skull of Balerion the ck Dread.


    Rhaegar approached the altar, cing his palm near the candles, feeling the warmth of the mes. As a child, Balerion''s skull was the first relic he had ever seen, and it was here that he had explored the skull and acquired the relic of "Blood and Fire" while holding a candle.


    "Balerion, you are truly the greatest hero of the Targaryen family."


    Rhaenyra joining him with the baby in her arms. Her white fingertips touched Rhaegar''s hand as they both flicked the wick of a candle.


    Rhaegar smiled, taking her hand. "Come with me to meet our stepmother," he said.


    He had refused his father''s sacrifice��not for Alicent''s sake, nor because he was weak, but because he didn''t want his father to suffer the loss of another wife in his old age.


    He also felt a deep affection for his younger siblings and didn''t want to deprive them of their mother, even if she was not his own. Growing up without a mother, he had envied Aegon for having one, and Rhaenyra had filled that emotional void for him. If Alicent died, he wouldn''t be able to provide the same emotional support to his siblings.


    Rhaenyra caught the teasing tone in his voice and gave him a look, but she obediently took his hand and followed him upstairs. Rhaegar held Aemon in his arms, ncing at Rhaenyra and Baelon beside him. His mood was as bright as spring.


    Over the years, Alicent had not been entirely bad. He had no interest in her, leaving it to his father to deal with her. Instead, Rhaegar wanted to address the root of all the trouble. "House Hightower, you''ve been living toofortably in Oldtown," he thought.


    The Church, the Attic


    They climbed thedder to the small, dark, forgotten room in the attic, covered in cobwebs and dust. At the end of the corridor, a broken wooden door let out a muffled cry.

 Chapter 468: Riding a Dragon With a Child

    Chapter 468: Riding a Dragon With a Child


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed with determination as he brushed aside the cobwebs and approached the door.


    Knock, knock!


    The dpidated wooden door, emanating a foul, rotten smell, creaked under his touch. The wailing from behind the door abruptly ceased, reced by frantic rustling. Rhaegar pushed the wooden partition aside, allowing a beam of light to pierce the dark, damp room.


    "Who is it?" Alicent, huddled in a corner with bloody gauze wrapped around her arms, shielded her eyes from the sudden brightness.


    Rhaegar remained silent, observing her quietly. Sensing she was being watched, Alicent forced herself to calm down and quickly wiped her tears with the gauze. Despite her dire circumstances, her pride as a queen refused to let her appear weak.


    "It''s me," Rhaegar said calmly, his voice like still water. "Didn''t you want me toe back?"


    Alicent froze, recognizing his voice. Her tear-streaked face turned towards the door, struggling to adjust to the blinding light, revealing Rhaegar��s face illuminated in the sunlight.


    "Rhaegar!" Alicent screamed, throwing herself at the door, trying to block the gap with her body. Rhaegar stepped back, allowing her the illusion of control. It was a harsh reality to ept��her transition from queen to prisoner.


    Alicent''s screams turned to hoarse cries, punctuated by violent coughs as she attempted to regain herposure.


    "Move aside. I''ll handle this," Rhaenyra said, pushing past Rhaegar. She red at Alicent, who now sat on the floor in a disheveled, dirty green dress, looking like a noblewoman fallen from grace.


    Rhaenyra��s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Alicent, stop acting like a shrew. Look at me."


    Alicent, driven by her pride, raised her head and red back with bloodshot eyes. As she shifted slightly, her entire face came into view. Rhaenyra was momentarily taken aback by the drastic change. In just one night, Alicent''s face had be pale and bloodless, her lips white, deep eye bags forming under her eyes, and her face severely swollen.


    Rhaenyra, her expressionless face pressed against little Baelon��s cheek, made sure he could see everything. "Thanks to you, my children have been born. Two boys of pure blood," she sneered, beckoning Rhaegar to hand over the sleeping Aemon.


    Holding both twins in her arms, she boasted, "These are my children. Can you see them clearly enough?"


    Memories of the past surged through her��how Alicent��s birth of Aegon had caused her, the heir, countless grievances. Now, she wanted Alicent to know she wasn��t the only one who could bear children.


    Rhaenyra reveled in this moment, showing off her children, a privilege that Alicent��s execution would have deprived her of. Alicent��s face contorted with jealousy, and Rhaegar, standing aside, watched the bitter exchange between the two women.


    In the dark room, Alicent stared at Rhaenyra and the twins, a hint of struggle flickering in her red eyes.


    Alicent sat stubbornly on the damp, moldy floor. "So what? Giving birth is just a woman''s destiny. It''s the same for everyone."


    Rhaenyra retorted, "Does your fate include this rat-infested attic?"


    "You��!" Alicent''s chest heaved with anger, her throat too sore to respond.


    Rhaenyra continued mercilessly, "My children have a father who loves them. How much of that love will your children get?"


    Alicent red at her, her anger boiling over. She wanted tosh out, but the truth stung too deeply.


    Rhaegar''s scalp tingled at the escting tension. He gently pulled Rhaenyra away and whispered, "I''ll talk to her. You take care of the children."


    Rhaenyra looked down at the twins in her arms, their wide, curious purple eyes looking up at her, startled by the confrontation. She blushed, feeling a mix of satisfaction and guilt. "I''ll wait for you downstairs," she said softly, needing to calm down.


    Rhaegar watched her descend the stairs, shaking his head with a small smile. Her need for revenge was understandable, given all she had endured. But the situation called for a cooler head.


    Turning back to Alicent, his smile faded. Her face was stern and unyielding. "Where is Viserys? How is he?"


    "You still have time to worry about my father," Rhaegar retorted, his tone icy.


    Alicent snorted in disgust, unwilling to engage further.


    "Do you want to stop me from suppressing the Faith of the Seven?" Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed. "Why?"


    He was curious why Alicent, who had endured so much over the years��even when Aemond lost an eye��was suddenly causing trouble now. It was ill-timed and disruptive.


    Alicent replied coldly, "The peace treaty is the work of His Grace, Jaehaerys. You are ying with fire by going against the Faith of the Seven."


    Rhaegar''s gaze was piercing. "Do you know the circumstances under which my great-grandfather signed the treaty with the Faith of the Seven?"


    Alicent hesitated, speechless for a moment. She knew the history but it wasn''t a pleasant one. Maegor I had died a tragic death on the Iron Throne, and Jaehaerys had been hastily enthroned amidst a crusade by the Faith of the Seven against the Targaryen dynasty. Jaehaerys had consolidated his rule by aligning with the Faith of the Seven.


    Seeing her uncertainty, Rhaegar lost interest in the conversation. "Think whatever you want. It doesn''t matter."


    He patted the dust off his robe and turned to leave. "You''ve made a mistake. Prepare to atone for the rest of your life."


    Alicent, narrow-minded and ignorant, was not worth his time. Stabilizing the court and addressing the issues in Oldtown were far more important.


    As Rhaenyra and Rhaegar left, Alicent''s fear of the darkness returned. She wanted to stop them but couldn''t bring herself to speak. She knew there would be no escape.


    As Rhaegar hurried down the corridor, Alicent, tears streaming down her face, croaked, "His Grace, the Old King, often praised my beautiful voice and liked me to read to him."


    Rhaegar paused briefly, then continued walking away without a word.


    In the dim attic, Alicent was left alone with her suppressed grief and weeping, the sound of her sobs echoing in the darkness.


    ...


    Rhaegar stepped out of the sanctuary and saw Rhaenyra sitting on the edge of the flowerbed, struggling to coax the two children to eat. The little ones were quite a handful, and their weight was clearly straining their mother.


    Rhaegar hurried forward to take the two squirming children, joking, "Next time, remember to bring your maid, or you might drop them."


    Rhaenyra rubbed her sore arm and rolled her eyes at his remark. "I''m surprised Alicent hasn''t gonepletely hysterical. I thought she wouldn��t be able to bear the shock."


    "Who cares?" Rhaegar replied casually.


    Rhaenyra lowered her eyes, speaking softly, "I almost wish she had. At least then it would feel a bit like our childhood."


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened in surprise, slowly shifting to understanding. "She had no choice, but she still made her decisions."


    Rhaenyra smiled and opened her arms again, pping her hands to indicate that he should return one of the swaddled babies.


    ...


    Half a Month Later at the Red Keep, Throne Hall.


    Half a month has passed since Rhaegar took up his duties.


    In the Throne Hall, paved with ck stone, advisers led by the Hand of the King gathered together, their attention focused on a single figure.


    Rhaegar, nked by two Kingsguard, slowly walked in, d in a ck dragon rider''s outfit. His eyes swept over the assembled advisers as he approached the Iron Throne, encircled by swords and spears.


    With a calm expression, Rhaegar ascended the stairs, ignoring the shing des around him, and took his ce on the top step. He turned to face the advisers and, with measuredposure, sat down on the cold, hard Iron Throne.


    The Iron Throne, with no back or armrests, was surrounded by sharp des, a testament to the will of the conqueror and a reminder to future kings that the throne is neverfortable.


    Sitting upright, Rhaegar held Truefyre in one hand, looking down at the ministers from his elevated position. At the foot of the Iron Throne, Erryk and Arryk stood guard with their swords unsheathed, their eyes never straying from their duty.


    The advisers were silent, ustomed to seeing the heir to inmand. With the king resting on his bed, Rhaegar had been handling all state affairs for the past six months.


    Rhaegar pondered for a moment before speaking. "Lord Lyonel, has the caravan transporting the food for the Prince''s pce in The Reach left yet?"


    Understanding the advisers'' tendency to remain passive unless prompted, Rhaegar knew he had to direct the conversation.


    Lyonel stepped forward and replied solemnly, "It has already left. Princess Hena has sent a letter and will personally escort the grain convoy."


    With the Hand of the King breaking the silence, other advisers began to report their updates.


    Linman, the Master of Coin, stepped forward with a list in hand. "ording to the Prince''s instructions, a site was selected in King''s Landing for the Seven-Star Grand Temple. The site has been cleaned and is ready for construction."


    After detailing the progress, he added a note of caution, "The kingdom is at war with the Triarchy and Dorne, and the treasury is overtaxed. The cost of the temple is a significant expense."


    As a prudent Master of Coin, he always advised against unnecessary spending.


    Rhaegar responded calmly, "Lord Linman, the royal family supports the establishment of the new religion. The current expenses are justified."


    ording to the Master of Whisperers, hundreds of holy brothers and sisters had moved from Oldtown to help build the new church, preferring tangible leadership over the distant prayers of the Starry Sept.


    The meeting continued, with Lyonel addressing another matter. "There are two vacancies in the Kingsguard. I have announced this across the realm and will select qualified candidates soon."


    "As you wish," Rhaegar nodded.


    With the meeting concluded, Rhaegar stretched and smiled, "I''m going to Oldtown. Please take care of the pce, Lords."


    The advisers exchanged helpless nces but agreed. After being treated with special incense powder, the king could remain awake for a few hours each day, ensuring the court functioned normally.


    Rhaegar descended from the Iron Throne, eager to leave. The advisers, after a moment''s hesitation, followed him out to see the heir prince off.


    ...


    Godswood, Back Garden


    "Roar!" Cannibal crouched restlessly, its tail iling. Nearby, Syrax waited patiently.


    Rhaenyra, who hadn''t worn her dragon rider armor in a long time, held two children in her arms. The tiny babies stared wide-eyed at the enormous, jet-ck dragon, utterly mesmerized.


    Rhaegar emerged from the Godswood, smiling as he took one of the swaddled babies from Rhaenyra. "I''m here," he said, revealing little Baelon, who never cried.


    "Let''s go," Rhaenyra''s eyes sparkled with excitement. She secured Aemon''s swaddling clothes around her chest and climbed decisively onto Syrax''s back.


    Rhaegar hesitated briefly, then fastened little Baelon securely before mounting Cannibal.


    Once everything was in order, Rhaenyramanded, "Syrax, fly!"


    "Roar!" Syrax obediently sprinted a few steps and then soared high above the Red Keep.


    Cannibal roared, its dark wings casting a shadow over the entire Red Keep as it took flight.


    In the back garden, people looked up, awestruck, watching the Prince and Princess take to the skies.


    Syrax, yful and energetic, circled the Red Keep twice before flying over the city of King''s Landing.


    "Giggling..." Aemon, nestled in Rhaenyra''s arms, looked up at the clouds, his small, happyugh echoing in the air.


    Rhaegar, riding the Cannibal, followed closely behind, weaving through the skies like a showman, drawing the attention of countlessmoners.


    Little Baelon''s clear eyes widened in wonder as he reached out, trying to grasp the clouds. Rhaegar looked down at his son, kissed his forehead gently, and smiled, "Good boy, worthy of being my son."


    "Giggling~" Little Baelon shook his head, thinking his father was ying with him, andughed joyously.


    King''s Landing


    From Silk Street to Flea Market, people filled every corner, looking up in anticipation. News of Princess Rhaenyra''s safe delivery had spread throughout King''s Landing, and the heir prince had held a seven-day soup kitchen to feed the hungry.


    Themoners stretched their necks to see the two dragons circling above, eager for a glimpse of the two little princes.


    "Long live the little Prince!" someone shouted, and the cry spread like wildfire.


    "Long live the little Prince!"


    "Long live the Targaryens!"


    "Let''s see the little Prince..."


    The crowd cheered and chased after the soaring dragons, waving their arms and shouting with all their might. King''s Landing was in a frenzy, celebrating as if it were a world-famous event.


    "Roar!" Cannibal roared again, carefully avoiding the buildings below. Rhaegar''s silver hair fluttered in the wind as he cradled little Baelon, both of themughing heartily.


    Rhaenyra had been right: the children should be seen by the people of King''s Landing. Emting her grandmother Alyssa, she soared through the sky with her newborns, showcasing the strength and legacy of House Targaryen.


    Targaryens were born to ride dragons, and today, the people of King''s Landing witnessed that legacy in all its glory.

 Chapter 469: Grey Ghost Recognizes a Master?

    Chapter 469: Grey Ghost Recognizes a Master?


    High Above King''s Landing


    "Roar!" Syrax roared nonstop, yfully scampering through the towers before swooping out of the Dragon Gate. Rhaenyra''s face lit up with joy as she held Aemon, who giggled happily. Theirughter echoed throughout King''s Landing, filling the city with their joy.


    "The mother loves dragons just like her children," Rhaegar thought, feeling a sense of triumph akin to taming Cannibal.


    "Roar!" Cannibal circled King''s Landing for the third time, chasing Syrax as they flew past the Dragon Gate.


    The two dragons soared through the sky, one after the other, leaving the people of King''s Landing in awe, their hearts pounding with excitement. This magnificent disy was etched into the memory of all who witnessed it, a moment so vivid that even twenty yearster, it would be remembered with the same intensity.


    ...


    The Banks of the ckwater Rush


    Rhaegar spread his arms wide, his voice booming over the rush of the river. "Rhaenyra, shall we race to see who can fly faster?"


    Little Baelon''s face turned red, fully exposed to the wind, and he whined in protest.


    Rhaenyra, riding Syrax, flew ahead and turned to scold him, "Why don''t you challenge Meleys to a race instead of Syrax?"


    "Mm-hmm," Rhaegar grunted in agreement.


    Cannibal''s deep green eyes glowed as its massive wings pped, catching up to Syrax with a powerful gust that nearly unbnced the smaller dragon. Poor Syrax dared not resist, stubbornly hanging behind the tail of the formidable Cannibal.


    Cannibal had grown rapidly, now surpassing even the oldest dragon, Vhagar, in size. In contrast, Syrax was a young female dragon, barely past the threshold of adulthood and less than a third the size of the Cannibal.


    Rhaenyra snorted, giving little Aemon a yful pat on the butt. The giggling baby��s eyes filled with misty grievances. She pinched his cheek, saying teasingly, "Though you are still young, you should understand the principle of paying for your father''s debts."


    Aemon pouted, tears welling up as if he was about to cry.


    Meanwhile, high above the riverbank, Rhaegar, oblivious to the exchange, opened Baelon''s swaddling clothes to let the baby fully enjoy the breeze. After a while, Baelon shook his head vigorously and buried his face in his father''s chest.


    "What a funny little thing," Rhaegarughed heartily. The Targaryens were not afraid of the cold, and he knew his children would inherit his robust constitution.


    As they flew south along the ckwater Rush towards Oldtown, the siblings followed the river all the way to Highgarden. They nned to spend the night there before continuing to Oldtown the next day.


    Rhaegar looked down at the roaring ckwater Rush, its surface sparkling in the sunlight. Suddenly, a light gray dragon shadow emerged from the clouds.


    "Roar..." The melodious call of the dragon caught the attention of the two riders and their dragons.


    Rhaegar turned his head to see a pale gray dragon floating towards them, looking ghostly against the backdrop of white clouds. "Grey Ghost?" he said in surprise.


    This shy wild dragon had returned to Dragonstone after the battle of the Triarchy and had been hiding there for months.


    "Rhaegar, it''se to see you," Rhaenyra noted, covering Aemon��s mouth with her fingers. The little one sucked on them forfort, teary-eyed.


    "Then Oldtown will soon be home to five dragons," Rhaegar smiled.


    As they spoke, the Grey Ghost emerged from the high clouds, its pupils shining brightly as it warily approached Rhaegar. Cannibal nced at it, and the Grey Ghost, seeing no aggression, cautiously flew closer.


    Rhaegar adjusted his breastband and tried tomunicate with the Grey Ghost. "Good fellow, are youing from Harrenhal?" he asked.


    The Grey Ghost had been a regr visitor since the dragon''s nest was built at God''s Eye.


    "Roar..." To Rhaegar''s surprise, the Grey Ghost showed little interest inmunicating. Instead, it snorted and focused its vertical pupils on the sash on his chest, more precisely, on little Baelon swaddled within.


    Rhaegar hesitated for a moment before lifting the cover to reveal the snotty-faced Baelon. The wind was too strong for the baby, and he couldn''t stand it. Baelon sucked his thumb, his pale face calm, staring directly at the light gray dragon.


    Covered in light gray scales, Grey Ghost''s back scales and wing membranes glowed faintly in the sunlight, camouging it among the clouds. Its head was not fierce but rather handsome, adorned with pale horns and a neat, dense horn crown. The most distinctive feature was its pair of amber pupils, which shone with a curious, inquisitive, and shy light.


    "Roar..." Grey Ghost''s vertical pupils fixed on the human cub, sniffing like a drug addict and snorting excitedly. Rhaegar''s eyes were full of confusion.


    "Roar..." Grey Ghost turned and flew towards Syrax, who was in a bad mood and felt provoked. Syrax opened his dragon mouth, ready to attack.


    "Quiet, Syrax," Rhaenyramanded at the critical moment. She, too, was curious about the wild dragon''s intentions.


    "Roar..." Not having been driven away, Grey Ghost pped its wings merrily and circled Syrax. Born at about the same time, the two dragons were simr in size. Syrax, with its thick,rge wings, appeared somewhat clumsy, while Grey Ghost, well proportioned and rtively small, had light gray wingsrge enough to cover its entire body. This configuration made it faster and more agile in aerialbat.


    Rhaenyra noticed Grey Ghost''s exploratory nature and exposed baby Aemon in her arms, allowing the dragon to take a good look. Grey Ghost''s pupils widened as it sniffed the second baby, showing a puzzled expression. Unlike Baelon, Aemon had the scent of other dragons on him.


    "Roar..." Grey Ghost, uninterested in Syrax, flew back to the Cannibal. Rhaegar, observing the dragon''s unusual enthusiasm, went from confusion to surprise, and finally to deep doubt. Could this timid little dragon have taken a liking to his son?


    The thought shed through his mind, and Rhaegar quickly unwrapped the swaddling clothes, holding Baelon out for Grey Ghost to observe more closely.


    Little Baelon: "Suckling~" His little nose wrinkled, and half of his snot dripped out. Grey Ghost didn''t let the opportunity pass and sniffed the baby like a crazed dragon.


    Grey Ghost had been busy. It had exchanged ideas with a green female dragon abandoned on Dragonstone, only to be chased away by an angry dragon returning to its mate.


    This led to a homeless wandering life. Two days ago, it had been near Gulltown when it encountered a newly hatched ck dragon cub. The young dragon was fierce and yelled at him, causing Grey Ghost to leave in a huff. Remembering a dragon''s nest outside the ck castle, it stayed there for a couple of days.


    Today, while fishing in the ckwater Rush, Grey Ghost had smelled the scent of dragon eggs from afar. It also detected something delicious, leading it to sniff around the two human pups.


    "You��re not being very nice, little dragon."


    Rhaegar''s expressionless face masked his true intentions towards Grey Ghost. He cherished his precious son too much.


    Without waiting for Grey Ghost''s reaction, Rhaegar pulled out a swaddling cloth, tied it securely, and turned his back to block the dragon��s view.


    "Huh?"


    Grey Ghost tilted his head, itsrge vertical pupils shing with confusion.


    Rhaegar patted the dragon��s back and urged, "Cannibal, hurry up."


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal growled irritably, shaking off Grey Ghost like an annoyance, and leapt over the ckwater Rush into the Mander River basin.


    Roar...


    Grey Ghost whinnied in worry and chased after him.


    Rhaegar pretended not to hear, even covering little Baelon��s ears. He admitted he was prejudiced against the timid dragon. Grey Ghost was smart, like all wild dragons, but his gentleness had made him timid and shy.


    Rhaegar had other ns for his eldest son. The dragon egg in the cradle had the highest priority for hatching, ensuring the mostpatiblepanion for Baelon. Growing up together would foster a strong bond.


    If the egg didn��t hatch, Stormcloud and Tyraxes, bred in the Dragonpit, were excellent choices.


    Stormcloud, supposedlyid by Meraxes, showed terrifying fighting talent. Tyraxes, inheriting characteristics of Morghul, the Smoking Sea Dragon, promisedbat effectiveness.


    But Rhaegar preferred Vermithor, Silverwing, and Seasmoke. If Baelon didn��t hatch an egg or tame a young dragon, he could wait until his teens to tame a wild dragon, as many Targaryens did.


    With his father��s health deteriorating, Rhaegar knew he might not live for too long.


    Little Baelon, following in Maegor I''s footsteps, could inherit Vermithor, an adult dragon second only to Cannibal and Vhagar. Vermithor��s age gave him longevity, likely ousting Vhagar.


    As the eldest son, Baelon taming Vermithor would easily suppress his siblings. Silverwing, almost as big as Dreamfyre, was another strong contender, not inferior to Caraxes.


    Seasmoke and Grey Ghost were alternatives. Seasmoke, a young dragon with battle experience, was neither hot-tempered nor docile, making him a good choice for novice riders. Grey Ghost��s temperament was problematic; it wasn''t suited for head-on fighting. But if Baelon could help Grey Ghost ovee his shyness, he could still be powerful, not inferior to Sunfyre and Seasmoke.


    "Roar..."


    Grey Ghost let out a shrill cry, unable to keep up with Cannibal, who sped up and stayed by Syrax''s side.


    Rhaenyraughed, having never seen Rhaegar and Cannibal so flustered. Grey Ghost, clever as ever, realized Rhaenyra was the mother of the human cub and tried to show off his well-proportioned figure.


    Rhaenyra wanted to stroke his head, but he was too far. Sheughed and said, "You can go back first. Wait until my child is a little older." Her words, in High Valyrianbined with a binding spell, reached Grey Ghost''s mind.


    The dragon paused, understanding, and stopped pestering the ill-tempered Syrax. After hovering for a while, it disappeared into the clouds.


    "Roar..."


    Before leaving, Grey Ghost let out a mournful neigh for the rejection.


    The second time! Thest time was when Rhaegar was riding on another dragon, also as a human child.


    Rhaenyra couldn��t help butugh and cry. She patted Aemon''s soft, round butt and said, "Your brother is more popr than you."


    "Wa wa wa..."


    His butt was attacked again, and Aemon��s little mouth pouted, crying out loud.

 Chapter 470: All Rights of Interpretation Belong to the Iron Throne!

    Chapter 470: All Rights of Interpretation Belong to the Iron Throne!


    The next day, the weather was sunny and warm. Despite being December, The Reach remained pleasant and mild, a stark contrast to the cold of The North.


    In Oldtown, at the Starry Sept, the roar of thunder echoed for miles. A pair of ck dragon wings enveloped the majestic cathedral. Simultaneously, an yellow dragon, gleaming like gold in the sunlight, slowly flew in. Soon after, Cannibal and Syrax arrived.


    "Come, give me your hand," Rhaegar said, stepping off the dragon''s back to take Rhaenyra in his arms, holding a baby swaddle. She gave him a proud look and held out her hand.


    The Starry Sept was filled with people��holy brothers, holy sisters, and believers all mixed together. Rhaegar nced at the crowd and saw a pale, thin young man in the front, dressed in shy attire and holding a Seven Star Bible. Several priests surrounded him.


    Rhaegar recognized the man at once: the current High Septon, Corben Flowers, rumored to be the illegitimate son of a noble family who had ascended to his position through his eloquence in debating scripture.


    "Roar!" "Roar..."


    Rhaegar had just dismounted with Rhaenyra when two distinct dragon roars echoed in the distance. He nced back. Sunfyre, with its pale pink wings and golden hue, pped energetically. The Sheepstealer chased after Sunfyre yfully, its vertical pupils shing with mockery, unting its own slender figure as if showing off to Sunfyre.


    Rhaegar couldn��t help but smile. Wild dragons were special, embodying the truth that they could survive independently. The two dragonsnded slowly in the temple square, and their riders dismounted.


    Aegon walked over, dark circles under his eyes, looking disheveled and exuding a decadent,zy air. Aemond, on the other hand, was young but mature. Noticing the swaddled baby in Rhaegar and Rhaenyra''s arms, Aemond''s eye widened in disbelief. "This... this is?"


    Rhaegar straightened and clenched his fist, clearing his throat. "Your little nephew."


    "Two at once?" Aemond looked back and forth, as if one eye wasn''t enough.


    Rhaegar''s mouth curled into a smile. "That''s right."


    "Congrattions, brother," Aemond said, momentarily stunned, then added shyly, "Can I see them?"


    After half a month apart, he was surprised to find two new nephews. Life was full of surprises.


    Rhaegar patted his chest and said generously, "Feel free to look around. If they cry, give them back to me."


    "Hmph!" Rhaenyra snorted in contempt. What a big talker! He even wants to take on the children��s tasks.


    Despite her irritation, she didn��t relent. Rhaenyra handed the swaddled babies to Aemond naturally. Rhaegar did the same.


    Aemond froze in ce, holding the two babies, one on each side, his eyes full of mixed emotions.


    Aemon stared at his uncle with wide eyes, chewing on his hand as he watched him intently. He was so engrossed in the sight that he reached out, trying to pull off Aemond''s blindfold.


    Aemond instinctively looked up and dodged, thenughed at himself for his reaction. When he looked at the two babies again, the strangeness in his eyes disappeared, reced by a sense of kinship.


    Rhaenyra said from the side, "His name is Aemon, which is simr to yours."


    Simr names in House Targaryen often evolved from "Aegon."


    Aemond looked at his eldest sister, his expression unchanged, and thought to himself, "They are my nephews. I will take care of them in the future."


    Aegon approached, yawning sleepily and reeking of bad humor. "Two cute little things. Let''s see how good they are," he said, trying to open the swaddling clothes.


    "Aegon, don''t be a nuisance!" Aemond scolded, quickly returning the children to Rhaenyra. "Those are our nephews. You''ll scare them."


    He took on the responsibility of being an uncle to his brother''s children.


    Aegon missed his chance and said uninterestedly, "Oh, I was just joking." He had only wanted to see the babies�� features, recalling seeing Aemond''s as a baby. What was the big deal?


    Aemond''s face turned red at the memory of a childhood humiliation, and he turned away angrily, ignoring Aegon.


    Rhaegar, after watching the exchange, tried to smooth things over. "Well, where is Lord Ormund? Have the Dorne raiders been dealt with?"


    Aegon shook his head and replied casually, "Ormund will be here soon. The old guy pesters me every day about when you''ll be back."


    Aemond added, "I rode Sheepstealer and burned two groups of Dorne raiders. The remnants are hiding and will take time to clear out."


    "I see," Rhaegar nodded, turning to ascend the steps of the Starry Sept. He had said all he needed to. It was time to stop procrastinating.


    Halfway up the steps, High Septon Corben ignored the other Most Devout and walked straight up to him. After a few steps, he broke into a sweat and began to pant.


    Rhaegar stopped and looked at him quizzically. After avoiding him for seven days and seven nights, what other tricks did he have up his sleeve?


    Corben''s youthful face looked weak, and he hunched his back, bowing with extreme respect. "Prince Rhaegar, I have been waiting for you for a long time."


    "Oh, waiting for me?" Rhaegarughed. It felt like a lie to say that.


    Corben stepped aside to make way for him, exhausted. "I sought guidance from the Seven, but I was unable to receive a divine message like the High Septon of history. However, I am willing to believe you, who im to be the messenger of the gods."


    "Are you sure that High Septon told the truth?" Rhaegar smiled wryly and continued up the stone steps. If you say the Old Gods or the Lord of Light R''hllor have some power, I can barely believe it.


    Rhaegar had encountered them before. The Faith of the Seven had been around for thousands of years without miracles or representatives like the forest children or the red sorceress walking the earth. The so-called guidance of the Seven Gods was hardly convincing.


    Upon hearing this, Corben''s already pale face turned even more ghastly, and he hunched over like an old man. Facing life and death, the Seven Gods had not given him a response, contrasting starkly with the experiences of past High Septons.


    Rhaegar was not interested in him. The crowd retreated as he passed, and he entered the sanctuary. With his previous experience in Oldtown, the Faith of the Seven and the Citadel were no longer concerns. He had no soldiers and no power here but Cannibal''s dragonfire had silenced all dissent.


    His main objective on this trip to Oldtown was House Hightower. More precisely, the two brothers, Ormund and Otto.


    ...


    It was almost noon.


    Ormund, with his house sword at his waist and vignce in his heart, arrived at the Starry Sept apanied by arge retinue. As they approached, they saw four dragons lying prostrate on the ground, exhaling heat waves intense enough to cook raw meat.


    "Gulp..."


    Ormund swallowed hard, steeling himself before entering the temple. He mustn''t show fear! After all, he stood on the soil of Oldtown, the fiefdom of House Hightower.


    Inside the temple hall, Rhaegar and Aemond sat on the floor, each cradling a swaddled baby and ying gently with them. Rhaenyra stood by the window, enjoying the breeze with her back to the room. Aegon, ever the charmer, had mingled with the holy sisters and was now flirting with a long-legged sister.


    Ormund entered and took in the scene, his arrival drawing the attention of the others. Rhaegar looked up and gave him a cold, indifferent nce, sending a chill down Ormund''s spine. He stepped forward and bowed. "Congrattions, Prince, for your new sons."


    Rhaegar nodded in acknowledgment.


    Rhaenyra walked over slowly and said softly, "Give me the children. You two talk." She took the swaddled babies and, led by a holy sister, retired to the inner hall.


    Aemond, reluctant to part, turned his head away in silence. Aegon, looking dejected, watched the holy sisters leave with a bitter expression.


    Ormund saw everything, noting the absence of his two grandnephews, and introduced the person behind him. "Prince, this is Archmaester Fischer, the head of the Citadel Conve, who hase to pay his respects."


    Ormund pointed nervously to a fat, bald old man. The old man, with dead fish eyes, pale sagging skin, and a hunched back, bowed. "Prince, I represent..."


    "How many people are there in the Conve?" Rhaegar interrupted, staring at him.


    Ormund hesitated, cold sweat trickling down his face. The bald old man frowned slightly, displeased at the interruption, and said with forced patience, "Usually, seven Archmaesters preside over it. The Citadel has expanded in recent years, and there are now ten Archmaesters involved. I am honored to be one of them."


    He made it clear he was hinting at the prosperity of the Citadel, hoping for leniency from Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar was unimpressed and asked, "Ten Archmaesters, but only one is sent to see me. Can you represent the other nine?"


    The bald old man was momentarily speechless and then said hesitantly, "I am the representative. If you have any requests, I will convey them to the Conve."


    Ching!


    Truefyre shed from his waist, a swift ck blur. A red line appeared on the bald old man''s neck, and blood sttered immediately.


    Rhaegar shook his head and said indifferently, "You send just one errand boy to see me? Are the public servants of the Citadel so arrogant?"


    As he finished speaking, the corpse fell to the ground with a thud, limbs twitching unconsciously. In an instant, the temperature in the hall dropped, as if a cold wind from the North was blowing.


    Aegon''s eyes widened in surprise, and he took a step back, arms folded. Aemond''s one eye widened, his gaze flickering between his brother and the corpse. Shock registered first, then calmness returned, a faint smile curling his lips. He admired his brother''s decisiveness.


    "Prince, he''s a Archmaester from the Citadel," Ormund stammered, nearly copsing in shock.


    Rhaegar nced at him, curious. "So what?" What��s so great about the Citadel? Do they really think knowledge is power? The old debts are still unsettled.


    Aemond stood straighter, blood pumping in his veins. Ormund was speechless, his right hand trembling slightly holding Vignce.


    High Septon Corben emerged from the corner and ordered a few Silent Sisters to drag the corpse away. He closed his eyes in silent prayer for the dead. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes and handed a parchment contract to Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar leaned back, propping himself up on his hands, and gave Aemond a wink. Aemond understood immediately, quickly getting up to grab the parchment and ce it before his brother.


    Rhaegar nced at Corben and Ormund, then read the contract carefully.


    "In the name of the High Septon, I hereby recognize the Protestant branch of the Faith of the Seven, grant the Targaryen royal family the right to appoint and dismiss the High Septon at will, and issue a new edition of the Seven-Pointed Star Bible..."


    The contract stripped the Faith of the Seven of its power.


    "The new religion is established, and the Targaryen royal family shall bear the responsibility of protecting it. The religion may be amended, and the Starry Sept shall not refute. All rights of interpretation belong to the Iron Throne."


    With each provision, Corben''s emaciated body seemed to age thirty years, standing only with support from others. The contract terms cemented a tyrannical alliance between the Iron Throne and the Faith of the Seven, crushing the Faith''s prestige.


    Rhaegar��s eyes were as sharp as a hawk''s. He said calmly, "High Septon, when I find a second wife, I hope you will personally perform the ceremony for us." He pointed up and down with his index finger, delivering a verbal blow: "The location will be the Starry Sept, in front of all the believers."

 Chapter 471: Archmaesters of the Citadel

    Chapter 471: Archmaesters of the Citadel


    Rhaegar''s words pierced Corben''s heart like a dagger. Stumbling a few steps, his face contorted with grief and humiliation, he said, "As you wish, Prince."


    He was powerless to resist.


    In that moment, Corben understood why, ording to historical records, the High Septon received guidance from the Seven Gods and opened Oldtown''s gates to the conquerors. Faith alone could not save Oldtown.


    Rhaegar��s mouth curled into a smile, and he waved his hand casually. "You are not feeling well. Please go and rest. My wedding will be a grand event."


    Corben��s eyes filled with sorrow as he bowed his head and left, looking like a dog that had been beaten down.


    This scene did not go unnoticed by the holy brothers and sisters present. They quickly bowed their heads, unable to believe their eyes. The Faith of the Seven was sacred��how could it bow to power?


    Rhaegar leaned back and called out, "Lord High Septon, the new religion needs devout believers. I hope you will send some holy brothers to King''s Landing to help build a temple."


    Corben��s body shook, and he stammered, "Building a church? Isn��t it enough to recruit craftsman?"


    "No!" Rhaegar replied, smiling. "The sacred temple must be infused with the faith of the faithful. It is essential that holy brothers participate in its construction and serve as an example to the people of King''s Landing."


    Then, with a hint of sarcasm, he added, "If you don��t want to bother the holy brothers, you can set an example yourself and personallyy the bricks for the temple."


    Tears welled up in Corben��s eyes. Seeing his frail frame, he quickly agreed, "I will select a group of holy brothers to send to King''s Landing so they can work with peace of mind."


    "Very well," Rhaegar said, satisfied.


    After this bit of "haggling," the High Septon fled, dragging the holy brothers and sisters with him. If he didn��t leave now, who knew what outrageous demands they might maketer?


    Rhaegar had indeed considered demanding that King��s Landing��s shortfall of holy sisters be met by the Starry Sept. However, seeing Aegon drooling over the holy sisters, he dismissed the idea.


    The holy brothers, eager for their benefits, would be happy to work asborers in King��s Landing to pay off their debts. They were already a bad influence on the holy sisters, and Rhaegar saw no need to exacerbate the problem.


    ...


    The Starry Sept was suddenly empty.


    Rhaegar��s eyes fell back on Ormund as he asked, "Where is Lord Otto? Has the High Tower received any news from Alicent?"


    Alicent had been confined in a small room for half a month, with the public told she was praying for the king at the temple. While others might believe this excuse, House Hightower certainly would not.


    Ormund lowered his head. "Otto returned to King''s Landing a few days ago, hoping to rectify Alicent''s mistake."


    "He left?" Rhaegar frowned slightly. Given Otto''s cunning nature, he would never have returned to King''s Landing at such a sensitive time just to rescue his foolish daughter. If he truly cared for her, he wouldn''t have sent Alicent to the bed of a king who had just lost his wife.


    He had thrust his own daughter into a power struggle, using her position as queen to divide royal authority and bolster his and House Hightower''s power.


    Aemond interjected, "Grandfather left Oldtown five days ago, saying he wanted to have a good chat with my mother. Is something happening in King''s Landing?"


    Aegon''s interest was piqued, his dead fish eyes scanning back and forth between Rhaegar and Ormund. The two brothers, being in Oldtown, had limited information.


    From the few words exchanged, it wasn��t difficult to surmise that something significant had happened in King��s Landing, and it involved Alicent.


    Facing his brothers�� questions, Rhaegar showed no sign of weakness. He turned to Ormund, "Do you want to tell them, or should I?"


    Ormund hesitated for a moment.


    "Then I will speak," Rhaegar said calmly. "Alicent made a mistake. You''d better not ask too many questions. I''ll think of apromise."


    Aegon let his arms drop and looked at him nkly, clearly confused. While his brothers fought in the war, his mother was causing trouble at home. What about my credit?


    "Will it be okay?" Aemond''s voice was filled with anxiety and helplessness. At only eleven years old, even after experiencing the baptism of fire, he struggled to handle sudden changes. Unlike Aegon and Hena, he was deeply influenced by Alicent''s "little family" teachings and cared deeply about his immediate family.


    Seeing his brothers'' reactions, Rhaegar did not scare them but offered reassurance. "Alicent is the queen; she will not be in danger."


    In truth, Rhaegar felt guilty. His brothers were fighting for him, the eldest brother, while their mother faced consequences.


    Hearing this, both Aegon and Aemond sighed in relief. One was relieved he hadn��t lost his credit, and the other was d his mother was safe.


    "But!"


    Rhaegar''s sudden exmation sent his brothers'' hearts racing once again. Aegon, especially, snapped out of hiszy and depressed demeanor, now fully alert.


    "What else do you want?" Aemond asked eagerly.


    "Oh, I''m just teasing you." Rhaegar chuckled, then turned his gaze to Ormund, his voice chilling. "But just because Alicent is fine doesn''t mean everyone else is."


    Ormund''s eyes twitched, and he instinctively took a step back. Behind him stood a dozen well-armed knights. Rhaegar nced around, but his attention focused on one person. The knight''s shield bore a "sharp-pointed bull skull on a blood-red background," identifying him as a member of House Bulwer of ckcrown. Judging by his face, he was the Lord of ckcrown, Lord Bulwer.


    House Hightower has several vassal families, and House Bulwer is one of them.


    Other powerful bannerman include House Beesbury in Honeyholt, House Mullendore in Unds, House Costayne in Three Towers, and House Hightower in Sunflower Hall. These houses built castles around Oldtown to protect it, contributing to House Hightower''s immense power, even surpassing House Tyrell, the lord of the fief.


    Rhaegar, his eyes deep and probing, asked, "Why do I only see Lord Bulwer here? Where are the other lords?"


    Ormund''s forehead broke out in a cold sweat. He said awkwardly, "The bandits from Dorne are causing trouble. I didn��t call my bannerman."


    "Is that so?" Rhaegar smiled yfully. Except for Lord Beesbury of Honeyholt, who was in King��s Landing, the other lords had sent ravens dering their refusal to participate in the political struggle between the royal family and House Hightower.


    Ormund''s face grew even more unsightly, and he wished he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into. Not only had he failed to summon his bannerman, but he had also sought alliances with other families in The Reach. Over half a month, only the loyal House Bulwer had responded, leading 500 infantry and 300 archers to Oldtown.


    House Bulwer��s motto is "Death Before Disgrace."


    Rhaegar stood up, patting the dust from his robes. "Lord Ormund, the Citadel will lead the way." The Faith of the Seven was subdued, and with the Citadel and Hightower easily taken, Ormund had no choice but to lead his group out.


    Aegon and Aemond, each lost in their own thoughts, followed the group.


    ...


    The Citadel, built on a remote dock in Oldtown, seldom saw visitors in the past. Ormund led the three dragons riders to its gates.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal let out a thunderous roar as itnded, sending a wave of hot air that rattled the Citadel''s ss, as if igniting an invisible fire. Rhaegar sat firmly on the dragon''s back, surveying the iconic structures of Westeros.


    The Citadel was situated on the Honeywine River, its tower domes connected by stone arch bridges, with residential halls built on the bridges. This design facilitatedmunication among the Maesters and minimized the need for additional residential space.


    nking the main entrance were tall green sphinxes, mythical creatures with the body of a lion, wings of an eagle, and tail of a serpent. Rhaegar studied them closely. One had a male face, the other a female, reminiscent of the sphinxes in his dreams, exuding an exotic essence from the continent of Essos.


    Boom!


    The arched gate at the foot of the tall city wall slowly opened, and dozens of Maesters in their robes poured out. They varied in age, though most were middle-aged or older, with nk faces and shining eyes, embodying a transcendent focus on knowledge.


    Leading the procession were three old Maesters, easily distinguishable by their bald heads, emaciated frames, and lifeless eyes. Rhaegar was secretly impressed; they fit the stereotype of Citadel Maesters perfectly, prioritizing the pursuit of knowledge over appearance. Vaegon the Dragonless had aged simrly, barely able to leave his bed in his old age.


    The three old Maesters approached cautiously, stopping at a safe distance from the three dragons. They stared at the Cannibal with shock, as if beholding an unimaginable monster. After a moment, the dead-eyed old Maester bowed stiffly. "The Citadel is honored by the presence of the three Princes. Please,e in."


    The other two Maesters, snapping back to reality, quickly lowered their heads and pretended to bow. Rhaegar looked down on them, noting their micro-expressions, and said calmly, "I have already met Archmaester Fischer, and I have long admired the other nine Archmaesters of the Conve."


    The thin old Archmaester straightened up and responded, "I can submit an application to the Maester''s Chamber and arrange for you to meet them as soon as possible."


    The Citadel is a ce for learning, where maesters and acolytes alike spend their days in research. Meetings with the maesters required appointments due to their lecture and research schedules.


    Rhaegar, understanding the intricacies, replied, "Thank you." He then nodded to Aegon and Aemond, and the three brothers dismounted from their dragons.


    The dragonsy at the Citadel''s entrance, each one towering over the green statues, their pupils shing menacingly from time to time. Rhaegar led the way as the Maesters opened a path for them, with the three old Archmaesters guiding the procession.


    Along the way, the thin Archmaester kept talking, introducing the customs and traditions of the Citadel. Rhaegar listened attentively, observing every detail of the Citadel. The gray stone buildings gave an impression of grandeur, with a stark emptiness at the top.


    The Citadel''s unique style was evident in its simplicity, yet itcked no grandeur, and everything was designed for maximum convenience. Rhaegar nodded asionally, inquiring about significant locations such as the library and the book depository.


    Due to the dispute between Alicent and Rhaenyra, Rhaegar had rarely visited Oldtown, and had never set foot in the Citadel, which he had rejected since childhood. Now, for the first time, he felt a surge of excitement.


    He remembered the two old Maesters who had once filled his mind with knowledge and the oath he had taken as a child.

 Chapter 472: It’s a Pity, You Shouldn’t Have Moved

    Chapter 472: It��s a Pity, You Shouldn��t Have Moved


    After about half an hour, the group finally entered the Citadel Tower after touring some of the Citadel''s notable sights.


    During the visit, they came across the famous Scribe''s Hearth in the lobby. The Citadel prides itself on serving the people, and the Scribe''s Hearth exemplifies this by offering writing services to themon folk. Positioned at the entrance, it lowers the threshold for themon people to seek assistance.


    In the Citadel Tower, the old man with the straw staff kept his word, personally registering Rhaegar��s presence in the Archmaester''s Office and notifying the other Archmaesters of their visitor. Rhaegar observed the entire process, gaining familiarity with the internal rules of the Citadel.


    Lord Lyonel had studied at the Citadel and earned six schr''s chains, each representing a different area of study. He often reminisced about how fulfilling yet exhausting his days at the Citadel had been. ording to Aemond, Lord Lyonel privatelyined that being Hand of the King was even more taxing than his studies at the Citadel. The thought made Rhaegar smile. Some people dream of high office for personal gain, while others find the responsibilities overwhelming.


    After half an hour, the old man with the straw staff led everyone to a spacious guest room in the tower to rest. The Citadel, not being a castle, had no halls for banquets. Rhaegar noticed only neat wooden doors along the corridor, each leading to small rooms where schrs lived. There were also special wards for the sick, secured with iron bars.


    Rhaegar nodded in approval of the Citadel''s disciplined approach to academic research, though he found it somewhat extreme. He and his brothers took their seats at a stained oval conference table, waiting patiently. Ormund and the old man with dead fish eyes stepped outside to confer privately. A dozen knights stood guard, and only Lord Bulwer entered the reception room.


    A quarter of an hour passed. Aegon grew impatient and fell asleep on the table, kicking his stool back and forth. Rhaegar looked around and started the conversation. "How long do you think it will be before the Conve arrives?"


    "Who knows? A bunch of old farts who''ve never tasted a woman," Aegon grumbled, rolling his eyes.


    The Citadel''s strict rules forbade Maesters from falling in love, ensuring their total dedication to their studies. For Aegon, it felt like a monastery.


    Rhaegar smiled, ignoring his second brother''s crude remarks. Aemond mused, "You killed Archmaester Fischer. The Citadel must be afraid of you."


    "Why do you think that?" Rhaegar asked.


    Aemond frowned. "You have dragons; the Citadel doesn''t."


    "That''s true, but it''s not everything," Rhaegar cautioned. "Don''t underestimate the Citadel. These Maesters will sacrifice everything for their research, even marriage. They''re not normal."


    Aemond frowned even more deeply. "We have dragons," he emphasized.


    Rhaegar shrugged. "The Citadel might be more interested in studying dragons up close than fearing them."


    Aemond, still puzzled, yed with his fingers. To him, dragons were everything. As long as Sheepstealer was around, he felt invincible. Who would dare provoke a dragon and not expect to be incinerated by its fire?


    Rhaegar smiled and said nothing, knowing better than to try and change their opinions so easily.


    Aegon and Aemond had had too little contact with the Citadel to know much beyond what the old Maester Mellos had taught them. Rhaegar, on the other hand, knew the Citadel very well.


    If it weren��t for the secret dealings of the Dragonpit Maesters when he was a child, Dreamfyre would never have been tamed by Hena. And former Grand Maester Mellos was far from the kindly old man he pretended to be.


    The structure of Westeros was deeply intertwined with the Citadel. Every notable castle and house had a Maester managing theirnds. Thete Borros Baratheon, a typical illiterate lord, relied entirely on his Maester to read and write letters and manage Storm��s End. Such dependence was unheard of in Essos.


    The more Rhaegar thought about it, the more he saw the Citadel as a grotesque institution, a tumor on the tree of nobility. The nobility''s over-reliance on the Citadel had corrupted their thinking. In contrast, the culture of Essos was flourishing, with fiercepetition among the powerful ensuring a constant infusion of fresh blood.


    Another half hour passed. Finally, the slow, steady sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway. Rhaegar turned his chair, making a loud creaking sound as the floorboards scraped together, and looked up at the door.


    Six schrs in Maester robes entered, each with a chain hanging from their necks. They varied in age: three were very old, two middle-aged with extraordinary bearing, and thest one quite young. Upon entering, they greeted the Targaryen princes with their distinctive hair. "Wee, Princes of House Targaryen, to Oldtown. May the Seven watch over you always."


    The old man with the walking stick pointed to the eldest of the six. "This is Archmaester Luwin, the most knowledgeable schr in the Citadel."


    Archmaester Luwin was short and stout, with white hair and a rosyplexion, exuding a sense of vigor and wisdom.


    As the old man was about to continue, Rhaegar interrupted with a wave of his hand. "Gentlemen, let''s get to the point."


    Archmaester Luwin, with his hands in his sleeves, looked serious. "What brings the heir to the Targaryen throne to the Citadel?"


    Unlike High Septon Corben, Luwin did not bow. The Citadel considered themselves above the politics of who sat on the throne, focusing instead on their schrly pursuits and managing the kingdom''s Maesters.


    Rhaegar knew this and asked directly, "Before we proceed, I want to ask what the purpose of the Citadel is?"


    Archmaester Luwin frowned slightly, then replied with conviction, "To explore unknown knowledge, cultivate useful talent, and provide learning opportunities for anyone on the continent eager for knowledge."


    These three points had allowed the Citadel to endure in Westeros for many years.


    "Well said!" Rhaegar praised, chuckling. "I admire the Citadel''s spirit of exploration. I hope to establish a royal Citadel in King''s Landing to teach literacy to the children of the nobility. I trust the Citadel will support this endeavor."


    The Citadel''s power stemmed from the nobility''s undervaluing of knowledge, leading to a monopoly on education. To break the Citadel��s influence, Rhaegar aimed to dismantle this monopoly and foster a broader dissemination of knowledge.


    Archmaester Luwin pondered deeply before replying, "Establishing a new Citadel ismendable. If you wish, I will send schrs to teach there."


    He saw through Rhaegar''s intent and aimed to maintain the Citadel''s monopoly through this offer. Maesters assigned to castles already had the responsibility of educating noble children, so stationing them at a royal Citadel would make little difference. The nobles would be hesitant to entrust their children to such a ce, making the teaching superficial.


    Rhaegar was prepared. "There is no need to send maesters specifically. I will recruit lecturers myself. What I need from the Citadel is ess to its library and the transportation of books to stock the royal Citadel."


    He didn''t trust the Citadel''s people, so he secretly recruited dozens of individuals. His n, modeled after the Protestant Reformation, aimed to rece the Oldtown Citadel''s status. It would not only serve noble children but also be open tomoners. This idea had been brewing for three years during his seclusion at Harrenhal, where theck of educated individuals had been a ring issue.


    Now, as Regent, he had many nobles under hismand and a greater selection of Maesters. However, hecked the ability tomand them at will. Nobles, even as Targaryen supporters, were not as easily controlled as obedient dogs.


    Rhaegar had dragons; he didn''t need loyal followers, he wanted obedient servants.


    Archmaester Luwin, focused on preserving the Citadel''s library, replied, "The Citadel holds many rare and valuable books. We can provide ordinary books, but we cannot part with precious ones."


    The old man with the cane asked, "Prince, how many books do you need?"


    "Half," Rhaegar responded without hesitation.


    "How many?" The old man was taken aback.


    "Half!" Rhaegar reiterated.


    The room fell silent before a middle-aged Archmaester, outraged, shouted, "The Citadel has millions of books. Even the royal family cannot take half of them!"


    Rhaegar''s mouth curled slightly as he looked at the man.


    Although I am demanding it, it is rude of you to say so.


    Archmaester Luwin took a deep breath, stopping the middle-aged Archmaester from speaking further. "Prince, we are representatives of the Citadel, not its owners. Your demands are too harsh. We cannotply on behalf of thousands of maesters."


    He gave his reasons, then rejected the demand, and finally applied subtle pressure.


    Rhaegar, appreciating the schrly rhetoric, knew they misunderstood his resolve. He looked at the middle-aged Archmaester and sighed lightly, "Archmaester Luwin is too old and doesn''t see as clearly as you do."


    I''ve already taken it by force, and you''re still trying to reason with me. You''ve been toofortable for too long and don''t realize the reality you''re facing.


    As soon as these words were spoken, the atmosphere in the guest room shifted dramatically, and everyone could sense the underlying threat.


    Aegon''s eyes lit up, and he sat up from the table like a fish flipping over, watching with keen interest. Aemond, always ready, pulled out his dagger and began to y with it.


    Rhaegar nced sideways at Ormund by the door and beckoned, "Lord Ormund, please close the door."


    Ormund smiled sheepishly, stepped out of the reception room, and closed the door behind him.


    Now, only Rhaegar, his brothers, the Archmaesters, and Lord Bulwer, who was left to guard the door, remained in the room.


    "The number is just right," Rhaegar remarked, surveying the nine Archmaesters with a smile. "Let''s y a game. One, two, three, wooden man."


    Archmaester Luwin frowned and said, "Prince, we cannot agree to your request. Please do not make things difficult for us."


    "If you don''t object, I''ll take that as a yes," Rhaegar responded, standing up and extending a hand as pale as carved jade.


    Archmaester Luwin and the others took a step back, their eyes wary.


    Rhaegar��s eyes grew cold, and the magic of fire in his blood surged, following a special course of operation.


    Z��


    A sparkle of light appeared, and the flesh of his fingers glowed red. In the blink of an eye, a faint red light appeared on the second knuckle of his index finger and the center of his palm.


    Rhaegar''s expression remained unchanged, his body did not move an inch, and his clothes fluttered in an unseen wind.


    Archmaester Luwin''s pupils constricted, and he eximed, "This is magic!"


    "That''s right, the kind you''ve been studying for thousands of years," Rhaegar replied.


    The next second, seven tiny sparks burst forth from his palm, expanding rapidly.


    With a loud boom, the seven sparks broke free from his palm and instantly turned into seven fiery red balls the size of washbasins.


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed, and the seven fireballs hovered around the nine Archmaesters, following a curved trajectory and emitting a searing heat.


    "Prince, what are you doing!" the old man with the walking stick cried out, terrified, and fell to the ground in shock.


    Rhaegar nced at him with regret. "It''s a pity, you shouldn''t have moved."


    With a flick of his right index finger, a fireball smashed into the old man''s head like a marite.


    Pop


    The skull burst open, and the mes engulfed the area above the corbone. The fireball then scattered like a bubble of sparks, falling on the headless corpse and reducing it to ashes.


    The eight remaining Archmaesters, including Luwin, were almost scared out of their wits.


    Rhaegar said lightly, "A new fire magic I''ve been studying. It consumes a lot of energy, but it''s easy to control."


    He nced at the remaining Archmaesters. "There are six fireballs left. Who would like to see it?"

 Chapter 473: Rhaenyra’s Hint

    Chapter 473: Rhaenyra��s Hint


    "Prince, you..."


    A middle-aged Archmaester red at Rhaegar and reached out to stop him.


    Rhaegar''s lips curled. " Sacrificing yourself for others?"


    Z-


    A ball of fire floated nimbly and struck the middle-aged Archmaester in the chest, burning a hole through him.


    In an instant, the room seemed to freezepletely.


    Not only were the remaining Archmaesters stunned, but even Aegon and Aemond froze, their eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.


    Rhaegar nced to the side and said to his two younger brothers, "Watch carefully, I''ll only teach you once."


    He closed his five fingers slightly, causing seven points of red light to form an unusual seven-pointed star pattern.


    This was a fire magic technique he had learned while sitting in the Starry Sept.


    Using his five fingers as the foundation of the magic, he created a pentagram that could release five fireballs. The fireballs could vary in size and be controlled with the precision of moving an arm.


    The seven-pointed star pattern Rhaegar used was a result of subsequent improvements.


    The second knuckle of his index finger and the palm of his hand had two additional magic sources, allowing him to create seven fireballs. No more��seven was the maximum for one hand. It couldn''t be less than five, or the magic transportation route of the five-pointed star would be disrupted, losing its flexibility.


    "Gulp!"


    Aegon swallowed a mouthful of saliva and couldn''t wait to lie on the ground and watch. Aemond''s one eye widened as he stared at the palm controlling the fireballs.


    Rhaegar flicked his hand, and the five remaining fireballs formed a line, whirling around the seven Archmaesters.


    Several Archmaesters were quick on their feet, protecting the most important one, Archmaester Luwin, in the middle.


    Rhaegar nced sideways and lightly tapped his finger. The four fireballs seemed toe to life, smelling their prey and falling on the four Archmaesters, burning them to cinders in an instant.


    On the spot, only three of the nine Archmaesters remained. Well, there was also a pile of ashes.


    Of the three, besides the key-protected Archmaester Luwin, there were the youngest Archmaester and a tall old man.


    Rhaegar ignored them. The second finger of his index hand was the only part of the seven-pointed star still glowing red. He had already decided to kill them all when he realized he had not seen all the members of the Conve in the Starry Sept. There were too many people at the Ten-Person Meeting, so he decided to leave two behind.


    Hum


    The fireball trembled slightly, stopped spinning at high speed, and hovered above the three men, emitting a scorching heat like a small sun.


    Tick!


    Archmaester Luwin dared not move a muscle, a drop of sweat trickling down his skin and onto the floor. The young Archmaester was filled with fear, suddenly closing his eyes with force, maintaining a stiff posture. The heat was baking, and the fear was growing, like a sword hanging above his head, ready to pierce his brain at any moment.


    "Ho ho."


    Thest tall old man was sweating profusely, unable to hold back his fear. He stumbled and nearly fell.


    Rhaegar nced at him, and the fireball fell at great speed, engulfing him from head to toe. The tall old man did not even scream, his life ending without pain.


    Rhaegar ignored him and put away his hand, causing the seven-pointed star to disappear. Fire torture was an extremely cruel punishment in Westeros. All he could do was quickly end the suffering of the victim. It was a kind of mercy.


    Plop! Plop!


    Archmaester Luwin and the young Archmaester fell to the ground, their bodies drained of all their strength, their cold sweat soaking through their rough Maester robes. He looked at the "remains" of hispanion, his heart spasming with a mixture of intense sadness and fear.


    They had imagined countless negotiation scenarios��coercion or bribery��but they had never imagined that the heir prince would kill them on the spot if they disagreed.


    "Are you two rested?"


    Rhaegar''s voice was cold and distant. Maesters are really a very annoying group. They are arrogant and condescending, despising worldly powers and believing themselves to be in possession of the truth. But they don''t consider whether the truth lies in books and pens, or in the Bronze Age of the ancestors, or in the iron of the Andals, or the dragons of the Targaryens.


    Archmaester Luwin and the young Maester trembled, finally realizing what power was, and their heads, full of knowledge, gradually drooped.


    ...


    For a long time.


    Creak!


    The door to the guest room opened and Rhaegar walked out with his two younger brothers, arms linked.


    "Goodbye, Prince."


    Lord Bulwer held the door handle with one hand and removed his horned helmet with the other, forcing a hideous, fawning smile.


    Rhaegar waved his hand and said in a friendly manner, "You can stay in the Citadel and cooperate with Maester Tru."


    "Yes, we willplete the task!"


    Lord Bulwer stood at attention, looking extremely serious.


    Ormund, standing in the hallway, was dumbfounded, as if he had just met his bannermen for the first time.


    "Is this still the same reckless man?"


    Just a moment ago, Bulwer had sworn he''d rather die than give in. Feeling Ormund''s gaze, Lord Bulwer red at him and passed by indifferently.


    Half of the dozen knights stepped forward and left together.


    "This, this..."


    Ormund was so shocked he could hardly speak.


    Rhaegar pressed his shoulder and said with a smile, "I''ll go to the library first and visit the High Towerter."


    With that, he walked out of the corridor.


    Aegon and Aemond gave their uncle a sympathetic look and quickly followed Rhaegar with their necks tucked.


    "Huh?"


    Ormund waspletely dumbfounded and suddenly noticed the open door to the reception room. The young Archmaester, with a damp patch in his pants, helped the shivering Archmaester Luwin to his feet. But where were the other Archmaesters?


    Ormund looked down and saw a pile of ashes and debris.


    "These piles, they look a bit like... ashes?"


    Ormund shuddered at the thought, and the more he looked, the more it seemed true.


    He turned his head, spun around, and ran!


    ...


    It was night.


    The Starry Sept loomed in the shadowy night as a huge creaturended in the square. Rhaegar slid off the dragon''s back, caressed its hideous snout for a while, then climbed the steps into the temple.


    He had spent the afternoon searching through the Citadel''s precious library. The Citadel''s vast collection was a testament to its cultural monopoly in Westeros, an endless ocean of books. Rhaegar even feared that a bookcase might copse in an earthquake and bury him alive under a mountain of knowledge.


    Not long after, under the guidance of a holy sister, they arrived at the inner hall where guests were amodated. Although called an inner hall, it was actually a spacious room with a sunny view and simple, rustic decor.


    As soon as he reached the door, a Valyrian nursery rhyme could be heard through the wooden door. Rhaegar stopped, gently twisted the doorknob, and opened a crack in the door, smiling as he peered through.


    Rhaenyra had changed into a red dress and was kneeling on the carpet with her back to the door. A cradle nearby gently rocked a baby inside. She held another baby in her arms, gently patting it to sleep.


    Rhaegar, engrossed in the scene, opened the door wider.


    "Hum hum hum~~"


    Rhaenyra seemed to sense something but continued to coax the two children, humming a luby in a gentle voice. Rhaegar recognized it as "The Evening Glow of the Shepherd," a song she had often sung to him when he was little to help him fall asleep.


    "Rhaenyra," he called softly, eyes filled with tenderness.


    The luby stopped abruptly. Rhaenyra, still with her back turned, continued cooing to her child as if she hadn''t heard him. Rhaegar was momentarily stunned, a look of confusion shing in his eyes. He noticed two young holy sisters standing by the wall, looking down at their toes.


    Rhaegar recalled the noisy speech he had heard earlier in the day and, embarrassed, cleared his throat, trying to get her attention.


    "Ahem... Rhaenyra, I''m back."


    He smiled, waved his hand for the two holy sisters to leave, and then crouched down next to the cradle. Rhaenyra nced at him, handed the baby Aemon in her arms to him, and said calmly, "You hold him for a while. I''ll clean up."


    "Okay," Rhaegar said obediently.


    Rhaenyra frowned, turned sideways, opened her dress, and gently wiped her face with a handkerchief. Rhaegar noticed that her breasts were covered with two moist, red patches of cloth, barely noticeable but telling.


    "Are youctating?" he whispered.


    "Yes," Rhaenyra replied, rolling her eyes, her face turning slightly red. Her constitution was excellent, not at all like a mother who had given birth with difficulty. After giving birth to her two children, she had recovered quickly and had enough milk to breastfeed them without needing a wet nurse. Sometimes, there was so much milk it leaked, causing difort.


    Rhaegar shifted closer and offered, "I''ll make some hot water and help you apply somepresses?"


    Rhaenyra: ...


    There was anguage called speechlessness. Rhaegar looked sideways and saw Rhaenyra''s face flushed, steam practically rising from her head.


    Looking around, she gently set Aemon aside and got up to fetch water. It was inconvenient being away from home, and the servants were not very handy.


    Soon, Rhaegar returned with the water and began to help. Rhaenyra leaned back in the cradle and closed her eyes gently. As the hot towel was applied, the swelling gradually subsided. Rhaenyra''s furrowed brows rxed, and her mood improved.


    It waste at night. In the moonlight, the two babies slept soundly in their cradles.


    Rhaegar leaned over, his eyes flickering. Rhaenyra, facing away from him, rested her head on one of his arms.


    "I''ll take care of the children. You go to sleep first," Rhaegar offered.


    "Mm-hmm," Rhaenyra murmured, already half-asleep and very tired. Soon, soft snoring filled the room.


    Rhaegar sat up and blew out the candle, his eyes fixed on her sleeping face, emotions mixed. Rhaenyra must have received the information she needed from the holy sister. Otherwise, she wouldn''t have been so lost in thought while coaxing the baby to sleep.


    Rhaenyra didn''t bring it up, so it must be taken as tacit agreement.


    "You''re so kind," Rhaegar whispered, burying his head in the crook of her neck. "I gave the child a surname, that''s all."


    Alicent''s meddling had aroused his suspicions. Even if he married more women in the future, one queen in King''s Landing would be enough. In ancient Valyria, polygamy was clearly defined. The wife had the same status as the husband, and the wives of annexed houses varied in status depending on their birthright. They would not normally usurp the first wife.


    "The queen..." Rhaegar muttered, his thoughts drifting.


    The wife of the Sealord of Braavos had no clear title, and the wife of the Prince of Pentos was apparently called the Princess. The court system of the Old Empire of Ghis was simr, with many titles beingbined.


    ...


    The next morning.


    At the Citadel library, arge number of soldiers poured in, carrying bundles of books and cing them on carts to be taken away. Tru stood at the entrance to the library, hisrge, fat body acting as a barrier, constantly supervising the soldiers who were handling the books carelessly.


    Behind him, dozens of Maesters were busy sorting out the Institute''s equipment. Downstairs, hundreds of Maester''s assistants were even more frantic, ransacking all the useful drawings and files, determined to empty the Citadel.


    On the roof, Archmaester Luwin looked out of the window, his eyes shing with pain. As far as he could see, the young Archmaester who had shared the hardships of the past were now joining the team of porters, leading the effort to empty the expensive utensils.


    Yes, he had defected�� No, he had found the truth! He was invited by the heir prince to be the second inmand of the royal Citadel, leaving behind the corrupt old Citadel. From now on, the Conve would only have Archmaester Luwin to support it.


    In the library, Rhaegar sat on the floor, surrounded by a small mountain of ancient books. Compared to the previous day, his attire had changed drastically. A white undershirt and a light red vest entuated his well-defined waistline. It was obvious that he had been well taken care of.


    At this moment, Rhaegar was engrossed in a book with a dragon on the cover.


    "Brother!" Aemond suddenly shouted, climbing out of a pile of books and holding up a parchment with a dragon on it. "I found another ancient book passed down by a Dragonlord family."


    Rhaegar looked up and saw seven or eight simr ancient books at his feet. Nearby, Aegony in another pile of books, his whole body seemingly broken. His eyes were numb as he mumbled, "Rhaegar, I''ll hand in a book too. Please let me out."

 Chapter 474: Aurion – Biography of a Dragonlord Family

    Chapter 474: Aurion �C Biography of a Dragonlord Family


    Bang!


    Rhaegar casually tossed a book, hitting Aegon''s head with pinpoint uracy. "Get to work, or I''ll break your legs!" he snapped, his tone brimming with irritation.


    Aegon let out a soul-shattering howl, rubbing the bump on his head as he scrambled to find another book.


    "Serves you right!" Aemond snorted, dutifully cing the parchment at his brother''s feet.


    Rhaegar''s face remained impassive as he leafed through the ancient books, his eyes dark and almost watery. "What a Citadel, it''s truly a secretive ce," he murmured.


    He picked up a yellowed ancient book and opened it, revealing the words "Aurion Family" on the first page. Rhaegar''s eyes grew solemn as he carefully read the contents.


    In ancient Valyria, there were forty Dragonlord families, and the Aurion family was among them. ording to Qohor''s history, after the Doom, a male member of the Aurion family became one of the surviving Dragonlords.


    He recruited men from the Qohor colonists and dered himself the first Valyrian emperor. Riding a full-grown dragon and leading 30,000 infantrymen, he aimed to rebuild the Freehold by marching towards the ruins of Valyria. But no one ever saw Emperor Aurion or his army again.


    The ancient book in Rhaegar''s hands was a biography of the Aurion family, containing descriptions of the Fourteen mes, the dragon''sir, and dragon breeding practices. There was even a short spell for binding.


    "The Aurions were truly wealthy," Rhaegar thought to himself.


    Thebined strength of this Dragonlord family was recorded in the brief history of House Targaryen. One of the oldest and most prestigious Dragonlord families in ancient Valyria, the Aurion family was always ranked among the top ten and frequently in the top five. At its peak, they had an astonishing twenty adult dragons and often led the Freehold''s external expansions.


    "What a fierce house!" Rhaegar gritted his teeth in envy.


    When the exiled Aenar crossed the Narrow Sea and migrated to Dragonstone, the family had five dragons. The other four died one after the other, leaving Balerion as the sole survivor. Today, the Targaryens have eighteen dragons in total, with only Vhagar, the Cannibal, and Vermithor being full-grown. This highlighted how powerful the Aurion family was, controlling twenty adult dragons. They could have silenced the Free Cities one by one.


    Rhaegar took a deep breath and continued to examine other ancient books. These included the biographies of Berys, Aethyrys, and some of the smaller Dragonlord families.


    There was even a biography of House Targaryen among the books, written by the exile Aenar himself. It recorded the location of the family''s ancestral estate sold in The Lands of the Long Summer and a hidden corner of the Fourteen mes where dragon eggs were concealed.


    The house leader, fearing that the dragons would be affected by their exile on Dragonstone, had made arrangements to leave a legacy for future generations to make aeback.


    Rhaegar read it carefully, sensing a deep sense of anxiety. In some passages, it was mentioned in a veiled manner that the family was declining and that migration might be a prudent option. This ancestor seemed truly fearful of making a wrong decision that could affect the entire House Targaryen.


    "s, who would have thought that the Targaryens would be even more prosperous after moving to Dragonstone," Rhaegar sighed, unwilling to let the ancestor down.


    Hepared the map of the Smoking Sea to the location of the ancestralnds. Most of thend had been reduced to ruins and had be part of the Smoking Sea. Due to their rtively weak power, the Targaryens had some of their holdings far from the core area of the Fourteen mes, preserving them on the remaining penins, The Lands of the Long Summer.


    As he looked closely, Rhaegar let out a "huh" and found a special piece ofnd on the map. It was located in the southeast of The Sea of Sighs, the only part of the Lands of the Long Summer that had been preserved rtively intact. There, House Targaryen had built a small town where they kept arge number of war ves and mined a special ore that enhanced the power of the Spirit. This ore contained a substance that, once ground into powder and purified, was used by pyromancers to develop secret medicines.


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed as he muttered, "The Soul Restoring Orchid is not enough. Father needs a medicine stone to boost his Spirit."


    He wanted to explore the Smoking Sea again, but various reasons held him back. His father was not in good health, and as the heir to the throne, he could not risk going alone. Thinking of this, Rhaegar took out a pen and marked the location for future reference.


    Hisst exploration of the Smoking Sea had given him a vague idea of the dangerous area. There were safe ces, provided they were far from the original site of the Fourteen mes and not covered by smoke.


    Rhaegar continued to look through the ancient records of the Dragonlord families, each boasting of their wealth to varying degrees. These locations were not deliberately concealed and could all be traced on the map. As he leafed through the pages, he sneered, "The Citadel is truly amazing, hiding so many secrets."


    The Citadel collected ancient texts openly and secretly, and the secret library was only essible to Archmaesters. Oh, that''s right. Archmaester Vaegon, the Dragonless, should not be included in the public list.


    "Brother, there''s a strange book here," Aemond called out, poking his head out from the sea of books.


    Rhaegar put away a dozen rare copies of the Dragonlord family and approached. It was a thick leather book, so greasy that its original material was obscured. The pages depicted a dark city, and the writing was in a strange script.


    Rhaegar recognized it and said in doubt, "The writing of Asshai?"


    He had once killed a group of Shadowbinders while exploring the ruins of Berys and obtained a book written in the Asshainguage. After being tranted by several Maesters, the book was revealed to be a spellbook, recording many evil magical rituals involving blood sacrifice and killing. The price for this knowledge was very high, and the rewards were uncertain. Rhaegar had burned it to ashes and returned it to the Shadowbinders in Hell.


    Aemond, full of curiosity, asked, "What does the book of Asshai say?" He was illiterate about thisnguage, having suffered from ack of education.


    Rhaegar opened it and frowned. Bang! The pages closed, and mes shot out of his hands, burning the book to ashes in an instant.


    "Hey, why did you burn it?" Aemond eximed in disappointment.


    Rhaegar''s face darkened, and he snapped, "It''s not a good book, you can''t read it." The first page was an analysis of necromancy.


    Damn Citadel, they dare to study anything! Looking at Aegon, who was cking off, Rhaegar gave him a kick and ordered, "Find me all the evil magic from Asshai and destroy it."


    He was a person with double standards. The Targaryens could learn fire magic and blood magic, but no one else was allowed to touch the dark arts. No wonder Westeros banned magic��this self-serving nonsense should be thrown into the trash can of history.


    "Don''t kick me, I''m looking for it," Aegon grunted, moving forward reluctantly like a donkey pulling a millstone.


    Rhaegar snorted and continued searching for all the useful ancient books.


    ...


    At dusk, the sun set behind the Citadel gate, where two green sphinx statues stood guard. In front of the gate, a small hill several meters high, covered with books, fluttered in the evening wind, creating a loud rustling noise.


    Many Maesters gathered at the gate, their expressions ranging from disbelief to cold indifference to profound regret. Rhaegar stood before them, casually picking up a book titled "On the Sacrifice of Alchemy."


    Aegon and Aemond looked at the group of self-serving maester with cold disdain. Who would have thought that the Citadel, known for its studies of cures and astronomy, also delved into harmful theoretical knowledge?


    Archmaester Luwin, his face reddening with embarrassment, stood in front of the group of Maesters, closing his eyes in pain. "The purpose of the Citadel is to find the truth, and we do not believe in magic."


    Rhaegar walked up to him, snapping the book''s pages against the fat old man''s face. "You don''t believe in it yourself, so why do you collect these books?"


    Archmaester Luwin endured the humiliation, as if the veil of shame had been lifted, exposing the Citadel''s dark side to the sun.


    Rhaegar raised his hand and threw the book back into the pile, his voice cold and harsh. "From now on, if the Citadel produces any more books about the dead, it doesn''t need to exist anymore."


    Archmaester Luwin lowered his head and said bitterly, "Yes, Prince." He hadn''t collected those books; they had umted over generations.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were as sharp as des as he turned and shouted, "Dracarys!"


    Cannibal, crouched at the gates of the Citadel, slowly rose to its full size at the sound of the call, its monstrous maw aimed at the mountain of books.


    "Roar!" A thunderous roar echoed as the green Dragonfire spewed forth.


    Boom! Thousands of books quickly turned to ash, the scattered fragments burning with green fire, flying through the air before disintegrating.


    All the Maesters stood silent, watching this book-burning ceremony. Rhaegar mounted the dragon and found Ormund in the crowd. "I will visit the High Tower tomorrow. Lord Ormund, prepare well."


    Ormund''s face was strained. "I will not disappoint you, Prince."


    After dealing with the Faith of the Seven and the Citadel, the butcher''s knife finally hovered over House Hightower. Ormund smiled servilely, but inside, he nearly cried out in despair.


    "Roar!" Cannibal let out another roar, and the dust from its wings scattered across the sky, carrying its rider back to the Starry Sept.


    Rhaegar looked down at Ormund, who was visibly agitated, and a deep meaning shed in his eyes. After all this time of bluffing, the fish should be hooked.


    ...


    The sun set in the west, and the sky grew dark.


    At the Citadel''s Weeping Dock, clusters of firelight moved in the dimness, and the sound of wavespping against the pier filled the air. Ormund, holding a torch, led a ck-robed man, ncing left and right cautiously.


    A small boat was tied up at the dock, and several sailors bearing the emblem of the High Tower were loading supplies. Ormund sighed and said, "Alicent made a bad move. He will settle the score with you sooner orter. Leave while you still can."


    The ck-robed man looked out at the vast sea and replied, "I''m leaving. What about Hightower?"


    "Don''t worry about it. I wasn''t involved. Rhaegar can''t deal with me," Ormund advised.


    The ck-robed man responded, "I have no evidence against me, so I can stay and fight with you."


    Ormund shook his head repeatedly. "Whoever gets the evidence of the Faith of the Seven and the Citadel, that Targaryen madman will kill without blinking an eye."


    There were ten members of the Conve, but only two survived the massacre, and one of them turned traitor. Think back to before. The rebellion in Dorne had onlysted a few months, but the Dragon''s Wroth had ughtered more than a thousand nobles and Knights, and thousands of civilians had been affected. It was even more ruthless than the Conqueror and even more ruthless than the cruel Maegor.


    Upon hearing this, the ck-robed man remained silent for a long time, then walked to the deck of the ship.


    Ormund let out a sigh of relief. "I''ve arranged a boat to Pentos. I''ve already spoken to the prince."


    "Good," the ck-robed man agreed. He looked up at Ormund and took off his hood with both hands, revealing a middle-aged face with a luxuriant beard, meticulouslybed hair, and deep, gloomy eyes.


    Ormund grew anxious and shouted, "Hide your identity. Your whereabouts cannot be exposed."


    Otto smiled and said, "Brother, you are always more practical than me."


    "Nonsense!" Ormund lectured. "You have only known how to study since you were a child. How many times did Father lecture you about the need to gain experience in the family business? You never listened."


    Otto listened carefully, a strange look shing in his eyes. He asked in return, "Do you know why I devoted myself to studying?"


    At the time, he studied hard and forgot to eat and sleep in order to get ahead. During the reign of the Old King, he was one of the most learned men in the kingdom. Otherwise, he would not have be the Hand of the King.


    Ormund waved his hand, uninterested. "You should leave soon. We can talk about old timester."


    Otto was unmoved and said lightly, "I''m afraid I won''t have the chanceter."


    "What a stupid thing to say."


    "Oh, I was just joking." Otto smiled sincerely and said in a deep voice, "Brother, take care."


    With that, he climbed into the cabin. Ormund stood stunned, watching the ship sail out of the harbor. He scratched his head and returned to the High Tower.

 Chapter 475: Burning the High Tower

    Chapter 475: Burning the High Tower


    Halfway through his journey, Ormund observed the night view of Oldtown and muttered to himself, "Otto must be kept away. Our house cannot be dragged down by him and Alicent."


    The heir prince''s de hung over Hightower''s head, and potential dangers had to be hidden. As he pondered this, the towering High Tower came into view. Ormund crossed the stone arch bridge and returned to his family''s territory.


    ...


    Back at Weeping Dock, the small boat that had sailed away not long ago returned to its original position. On the pier, in the empty night, a dozen ck-robed figures stood in a row. Otto put his hood back on and stepped onto the wet dock, saying in a low voice, "Follow me."


    The ck-robed men followed him silently, like marites. The moon was bright, and a cool breeze blew. The hoods of the ck robes fluttered, revealing several numb faces with yellowish skin and emaciated bodies. Some were blind in one eye, others had scars all over their faces.


    They were criminals from the dungeons of King''s Landing, part of the intelligencework left by Mysaria, the White Worm. Otto now controlled these puppets.


    ...


    The night grew deeper, and dark clouds obscured the moonlight.


    In the High Tower, a secret passage.


    Click-click


    A ck-robed man crept out, emerging into the cer where grain was stored.


    "Hurry up and don''t cause any unnecessary trouble," Otto ordered, his eyes cold as he located an oil barrel that had been prepared in advance.


    The ck-robed men carried the oil cans and immediately began their work, avoiding the guards on night watch as they poured oil in the cer, kitchen, stables, and other strategic locations.


    One of the ck-robed men tried to pour oil on the main gate, but hispanion punched him in the face and grabbed the oil can. "Get out of here. Don''t be so clever," he said.


    Otto, watching from the shadows, nodded imperceptibly. He wanted to set the High Tower on fire but not to block the escape routes.


    Isn''t the heir prince going to do something? Otto thought. Then I will strike first, set the High Tower aze, and escape any false usations. No one would suspect him of starting the fire; they would think the heir prince had done it.


    Taking onest look at the familiar towering structure, Otto turned and disappeared into the secret passage. "Light the fire," he ordered.


    The men in ck took out torches and ignited the oil-soaked areas. Suddenly, the fire spread throughout the High Tower.


    By the time the guards and servants realized a fire had broken out, Otto had already left with his men.


    "Come quickly, put out the fire!"


    "The kitchen is on fire! Get some water!"


    "There''s a fire..."


    Servants ran around in a panic, and the entire tower descended into chaos.


    At that moment, another group of masked men sneaked out of the High Tower and quickly fled the scene in a boat on theke.


    Boom!


    A fire erupted at the entrance to the High Tower, blocking the guards from reaching the water to extinguish the mes.


    "Damn it, the fire is blocking the door!"


    The fire raged, preventing anyone from getting close.


    Suddenly, someone eximed, "There''s the smell of oil! Hurry and save Lord Ormund!"


    Guards shouted and rushed inside with nkets soaked in river water.


    Meanwhile, in the Lord''s bedroom, Ormundy on a soft bed, wearing silk pajamas and fast asleep.


    Zla...


    A fire broke out in the hallway outside, and pungent smoke seeped into the bedroom through the tiny crack in the door.


    Ormund stirred, smelling the smoke. The sound of fire engines resounding through the tower woke him from his dream.


    As soon as Ormund opened his eyes, the dim room was filled with thick ck smoke, and the temperature was as high as an oven.


    "Damn it, what''s going on?" Ormund cursed, instantly wide awake, and tried to escape.


    Bang!


    He kicked the door, but it didn''t budge. Horrified, he pounded on the door. "Damn it, who sealed the door shut!"


    The fire spread throughout the corridor, burning along the walls to the ceiling. The pine wood beams of the decor became the best fuel, and the pine oil crackled and sizzled.


    With every breath, Ormund inhaled thick, choking smoke. The shouts and crackling sounds he heard were like the whispering of a stranger.


    The smoke grew thicker, and the fire reached the door.


    "Cough, cough, cough..."


    Ormund''s strength waned as he pounded on the door, struggling to breathe. His coughing was so violent it felt like he might cough his lungs out.


    "Someone... Help, help me..."


    Ormund''s eyes filled with deep despair, his throat hoarse like a broken fan, and his limbs gradually became weak and powerless.


    With a thud, he fell to the ground. His eyes fixed on the door, just a wooden barrier, but it became the gap between life and death.


    Boom!


    The fire spread to the bedroom ceiling, and the beams could no longer hold, burning and copsing.


    Ormund''s breathing almost stopped, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he watched the beam fall on him.


    In thest moment of his life, Ormund''s eyes rolled back in his head as he screamed in terror.


    "No!"


    ...


    Weeping Dock.


    Otto, who had just boarded the ship again, suddenly looked back, drawn by the sound of crackling mes. His eyes fixed on the towering High Tower, now surrounded by billowing smoke. The High Tower, standing 800 feet high, dominated the tndscape of Oldtown, and the fire was particrly visible in the darkness.


    mes rose from the base of the High Tower, and smoke asionally billowed from the upper floors, spewing fire through the windows.


    Otto''s eyes flickered with confusion. "How did the fire get so much bigger?" he muttered. He stirred the water with his hand, gauging the strength of the night wind. The breeze was gentle, not strong enough to fuel the fire to such an extent.


    Otto frowned and concluded, "No matter what, we cannot stay in Oldtown for long."


    He had already decided to sacrifice his brother and his family to protect his daughter, the queen, and the future of the house. Sentimentality had no ce in his ns.


    Turning back, he stepped onto the deck of the small boat and urged the sailors to speed up the voyage.


    Ssh! Ssh!


    The sailors rowed hard, and the waves grew stronger and stronger. Otto joined the crew, and the boat soon disappeared into the night.


    Half an hourter.


    The boat left the harbor and entered the mouth of Whispering Sound. Otto was distracted, his eyes unfocused on the distance.


    Suddenly, a ship appeared on the horizon. The sailors panicked, stretching their necks to see what was happening. Otto, drawn by themotion, squinted to follow their line of sight.


    The two ships grew closer, and the haze gradually lifted, revealing a small, agile warship. Otto''s heart skipped a beat, and his eyelids fluttered.


    As the ships converged, Otto looked up and saw the figures on the deck of the warship and the long sail hanging from it. A sword and a shooting star intersected on the light purple canvas.


    "House Dayne," Otto whispered, stunned and unable to believe his eyes.


    At the same time, the figures on the warship were looking down at him, sneering. With a wave of his hand, one of the soldiers ordered, "Release the arrows!"


    Arrows flew through the air, aimed at the sailors and the ck-robed men on Otto''s ship.


    ...


    Starry Sept.


    Rhaenyra was still awake, standing in front of the window in the inner hall in a long beige nightgown, gazing out.


    "Ooh~" Aemon, in his baby clothes,y in his mother''s arms, humming and grunting. Rhaenyra held his little bottom with one hand and his back with the other, leaning back slightly to ensure the child didn''t fall and injure his spine.


    Crack!


    The door opened quietly from the outside, and Rhaegar entered. He looked up to see Rhaenyra cooing to the baby in the moonlight.


    Rhaegar hesitated for a moment before asking softly, "Is Baelon asleep?"


    Rhaenyra turned her head and replied with resignation, "He''s been asleep for a long time, except for this little rascal who won''t settle down."


    "Baelon is the eldest son. He knows how to make his parents feel at ease," Rhaegar smiled, walking over to take little Aemon, who was pping his hands. The little one''s purple eyes shone with excitement, and he smacked his lips as if wanting to argue with his father.


    Rhaenyra snorted, rocking the cradle beside her, and looked tenderly at the sleeping baby. "Older children are usually more reassuring and take better care of their younger siblings."


    Her eyes moved to Rhaegar''s handsome, almost devilish face, and she smiled slightly. What a handsome young man, she thought, reflecting on how she had taken care of him.


    Rhaegarughed, nodding in approval. "That''s right. Who wouldn''t want a gentle and considerate sister?"


    "Wow~" Little Aemon, feeling neglected, yelled in a hoarse voice and hit Rhaegar''s chest with his small hand. The little one was soft and squishy, and the impact caused a bit of a rebound, with some salivaing out.


    The parentsughed and teased the poor baby.


    "Rhaegar!" Rhaenyra suddenly spoke up, breaking the warm and cozy atmosphere.


    Rhaegar "mm"ed, casting a concerned nce.


    Rhaenyra leaned against the window and looked out at the towering mes of the High Tower. She asked bluntly, "Did you start the fire?"


    "You''re so observant," Rhaegar smirked, biting Aemon''s cheek. "Otto set the fire. I helped fan the mes."


    "Really?" Rhaenyra''s eyes narrowed slightly.


    "It''s the truth," Rhaegar replied, wearing a face that said, "I''m the most honest person around."


    Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, worry creeping in. "House Hightower is a powerfull House and the house of Alicent. You must not do anything rash."


    Westeros hadws protecting nobility. No matter the crime, as long as it wasn''t a rebellion of the entire house, the king couldn''t destroy a family name at will.


    Since Rhaegar became heir prince, he had cut off two long-standing noble families: Bracken of the Rivends and Uller of Dorne. Although both hadmitted great crimes, it was understandable to wipe out the entire family. But such moves irritated the nobles of Westeros and added to Rhaegar''s reputation for cruelty.


    Rhaenyra thought for a moment and suggested, "The High Tower was destroyed by fire, and House Hightower has suffered enough. Let''s leave for King''s Landing tomorrow."


    The rebellion in Dorne had not yet ended, and the Hightowers were still needed on the battlefield. With Queen Alicent stripped of her rights and Otto in control of the Small Council, House Hightower was not to be feared. In Rhaenyra''s eyes, the most important thing was to raise the children with Rhaegar and stay by her father''s side.


    Rhaegar raised his eyelids slightly, considered the direction of things, and made a judgment. "Well, tomorrow is when we will see the oue."


    House Hightower had deep roots and would not disappear easily. He had made several preparations, which should be enough.


    ...


    The next morning.


    The ind in the middle of theke where the High Tower stood had turned into scorched earth. The once white tower was now ckened by the fire that had burned overnight.


    Rhaegar and Rhaenyra arrived on their dragons just in time to see guards sweeping the tower��s entrance and carrying out charred bodies on stretchers.


    "Roar..."


    A shrill neighing sound drew the attention of those present as Sunfyre and the Sheepstealer arrived, carrying the two Targaryen boys who rushed over.


    Aegon waspletely dumbfounded, looking around at the stone tower not far from the ruined walls. He had spent the night with Aemond in a brothel, and now his mother''s family was burnt down.


    Aemond was even more confused. The one-eyed boy climbed down from the dragon''s back and ran toward the tower.


    "Aemond, don''t be rash!" Rhaegar, standing in front of the tower, reached out to stop him.


    At that moment, two armored Knights of the Kingsguard, their faces marked with sadness, slowly walked out carrying a stretcher. A white cloth covered the stretcher, and a charred arm hung limply down.


    Rhaegar pulled Aemond back, watching the stretcher pass by them. A lump of solidified gold hung from the thumb of the arm, encasing a green gemstone. The brothers recognized it instantly.


    It was the emerald bangle that Ormund Hightower always wore.


    "Brother," Aemond said in a daze.


    "Yes?" Rhaegar replied, standing nearby.


    "Nevermind." Aemond slumped his shoulders and shook his head, trying to process what had happened.


    "Father, oh, oh..." A panicked cry, the cry of a child, pierced the air. A young boy, not yet old enough to be a knight, was crying as he left the tower.


    It was Ormund''s only son, Lyonel Hightower.

 Chapter 476: Daemon and the Sea Snake Join Forces Again

    Chapter 476: Daemon and the Sea Snake Join Forces Again


    Lyonel Hightower, a young boy who had just lost his father, was in the arms of a knight, crying so hard that he nearly fainted.


    Rhaegar surveyed the scene, assessing the extent of the damage caused by the fire. Ormund had perished in the ze, along with several unfortunate Hightower rtives who failed to escape in time. The fire, which had broken out at the entrance to the High Tower, had blocked the guards'' attempts to extinguish it. Many servants had also died, either in their efforts tobat the fire or because they were trapped inside.


    Lyonel Hightower, looking at the charred remains of the High Tower, wept bitterly. Rhaegar knew that House Hightower would not be able to recover for at least ten years.


    "Rhaegar," Rhaenyra called, approaching with their babies in her arms. She handed the children to Rhaegar and then walked over to Lyonel, who was surrounded andforted by his servants. As she passed Rhaegar, she shot him a fierce re, as if to say, "Look what you''ve done."


    Rhaegar''s lips curved up slightly, and he hummed a luby while holding the babies. He watched as Rhaenyra sent the servants away and coaxed Lyonel to stop crying. This was likely the tacit understanding between the two, reminiscent of the rtionship between King Jaehaerys I and Queen Alysanne.


    Rhaenyra condescendingly went down to help Rhaegar clean up. It was almost noon when Hightower''s bannerman, who were close by, arrived in Oldtown to attend Ormund''s memorial service.


    Rhaegar received the guests and publicly announced that Lyonel Hightower would take over the territory and title, bing the new lord of Oldtown. The cause of the fire was officially ssified as idental.


    Many people privately suspected that Rhaegar was involved in the incident. After all, he hade to Oldtown to suppress the Hightowers. However, the fire had started from inside the High Tower, and traces of oil were found. Given the High Tower''s heavy guard, it was unlikely that Rhaegar could have orchestrated the arson without inside knowledge of the secret passageways.


    Thus, Rhaegar was viewed not as the direct culprit but as the mastermind behind the scenes. However, no one dared to say this aloud, only whispering it within the castle.


    The High Tower still stood, and House Hightower continued to reside in Oldtown, with Ormund''s only son now the new Lord. Hightower''s bannerman were pleased with this oue. If they had been truly loyal, they would not have refused Ormund''s call. Now that Ormund was dead, the conflict between Oldtown and the royal family was resolved, allowing everything to be rebuilt from scratch. The bannerman could remain loyal to Hightower without fear of repercussion.


    It couldn''t have worked out better. The truth of the situation didn''t matter; what mattered was that peace had been restored.


    The funeral was held quickly. Due to the young age of the new Lord, House Hightower elected a regent to arrange Ormund''s burial. Rhaegar coaxed his two sons to the front of the procession with Aegon and Aemond.


    Rhaenyra bent down and whispered words offort to the sobbing Lyonel. Her eyes were gentle, and she exuded an irresistible aura of motherhood. Rhaegar smiled, looking at her with admiration. Rhaenyra truly had the potential to be a queen, radiating warmth and inclusivity. This quality had grown with each passing day as she matured, especially after bing a mother.


    Aegon, slumping his head in boredom, asked, "Is it over?"


    "Shh!" Aemond quickly silenced him, warning, "Keep your voice down. Don''t say anything."


    "What are you afraid of? No one is watching us," Aegon snorted, his eyes falling on a beautiful maiden in the crowd. A sh of rejection crossed his face. "Why didn''t they burn her to death? Then I wouldn''t have to fulfill my marriage contract."


    "That''s your fianc��e," Aemond reminded him.


    "How about I give her to you?" Aegon offered.


    "I have my own fianc��e."


    "Maybe we can marry two." Aegon nudged Rhaegar in the shoulder and asked, "You''ll marry Jeyne and extend the exception, right?"


    The Rule of Exception was a critical condition established to maintain Targaryen family traditions after apromise between King Jaehaerys I, the Faith of the Seven, and the Citadel.


    The essence of the Rule is as follows:


    The Targaryens were not descended from the First Men, the Andals, or the Rhoynar, but were Valyrian Dragonlords of the Freehold.


    The Targaryens had a unique marriage tradition aimed at preserving the purity of their bloodline, which differed from the customs of Westeros.


    The Citadel also yed a role in formting the Rule of Exception. Once the rules were established, holy brothers of the Faith of the Seven traveled across the continent, exining the exceptions castle by castle and vige by vige to help the people of Westeros understand and ept the Targaryens'' unique customs.


    Rhaegar nced at Aegon and, to avoid further conflict, carried the two children on his back. "Don''t waste your time. The new version of the Rule of Exception applies only to the king and the heir," he stated. This was a private agreement he had made with his father.


    The rule allowed the king to take additional wives for the purpose of breeding, but it was meant to prevent a scenario where younger Targaryens, like Daemon and Aegon, would marry multiple wives and start their own harems, leading to chaos.


    For the first time, Aegon stood up for himself and argued, "Don''t be so selfish."


    Rhaegar snorted in derision, "What are you going to do about it?"


    "Nothing!" Aegon red at him and then stormed out of the room.


    Aemond pped his forehead and covered his one good eye,menting his brother''s inability to assert himself effectively. "How could he be such a brother?" he thought.


    Despite the day''s turmoil, the funeral concluded.


    ...


    The next morning, early dawn.


    Four dragons soared out of Oldtown, heading back to King''s Landing. Rhaegar rode Cannibal, silently calcting the time difference and pondering the recent events.


    The Faith of the Seven had capitted, signing a new version of the "Law of Exceptions" and taking responsibility for promoting it across Westeros before the spread of the new religion. The Citadel fared even worse, nearly emptied of its resources. Tru led dozens of Maesters and hundreds of Maester''s Assistants in inventorying the spoils of the divided institution.


    House Hightower had a new Lord, and his advisers had pledged their loyalty. The ckmont and Daynes Houses, who had been raiding the farms, had vanished. Aegon and Aemond returned to King''s Landing alongside Rhaegar and Rhaenyra.


    "There''s still Otto left to deal with," Rhaegar thought to himself.


    At this moment, Otto was probably on his way back to King''s Landing. Rhaegar hadn''t killed Otto directly but had left him alive, observing his actions. Otto''s decision to set the High Tower on fire suggested dissatisfaction with Ormund and a desire to rece him. Otherwise, he wouldn''t have resorted to such extreme measures.


    Rhaegar had subtly encouraged Otto''s resolve. However, the heir was Ormund''s son, leaving Otto, as the second son, with no significant influence. Rhaegar thought, "If Otto is left alive, he can be used to restrain Alicent and still be useful."


    The Triarchy, the Disputed Lands, and the Dorne Kingdom all required a capable person like Otto to manage them. Death wasn''t the end; there was still work to be done.


    ...


    King''s Landing


    Four dragons soared above the city, slowly descending into the Dragon''s Lair.


    "Roar..."


    Syrax''s mischievous neighing echoed as it refused to be directed by the dragonkeepers, carrying Rhaenyra straight to the Red Keep. Syrax had its own mind about where to go��the Dragonpit was dirty and smelly, while the Red Keep''s back garden was its favorite ce.


    Rhaenyra departed, holding a sleeping, sweet-smelling Baelon in her arms.


    Rhaegar watched and then led his two younger brothers into the Dragonpit.


    "Roar..."


    A shrill squeal emanated from the main hall of the Dragonpit. A light green dragony on the ground, its head resting on the tip of its tail, its vertical pupils ring at them with malice.


    Hena stood nearby, holding a chain tethered to a young dragon, the size of a domestic cat, which pped its wings and struggled.


    "Sister!" Aemond eximed in surprise, running over excitedly.


    Rhaegar was slightly surprised but did not dwell on it.


    "Prince," the old Dragonkeeper greeted, leading his apprentices and directing the three dragons away.


    Cannibal''s pupils were cold and indifferent as it retreated to its own pit. Sunfyre growled at Dreamfyre, who growled back before returning to the pit to rest. Sheepstealer bounced around, pestering the Dragonkeeper for food before falling asleep contentedly on the spot. Of all the dragons, it was the most rebellious.


    "Brother!" Hena smiled as she saw Rhaegar and trotted over with the baby dragon in her arms.


    Aemond, who had been ignored, awkwardly withdrew his hands and turned to hug Aegon.


    Hena pointed at the baby dragon and eximed, "The Dragonpit has hatched a new baby dragon?"


    She had been expecting to see Stormcloud or Tyraxes but found this dragon with a poisonous mushroom-like color instead.


    Rhaegar, avoiding the stares of Aegon and Aemond, whispered, "This is the baby dragon that hatched from the Berys family''s dragon egg, thepanion of little Aemon."


    "Aemon?" Hena was confused.


    Rhaegar realized she hadn''t heard about Rhaenyra''s baby and exined the situation. Hena''s mouth fell open, and she stammered, "I, I have a nephew."


    Her voice was light and airy, with excitement rather than regret. She then noticed the tiny baby in Rhaegar''s arms. Her eyes sparkled as she gently poked the baby''s face, as if petting a puppy.


    Aemon, with his big, watery eyes wide open and a little drool dripping from the corner of his mouth, looked at his little aunt with a puzzled expression. Not very bright.


    Rhaegarughed and called his two younger brothers, "Let''s go back to the Red Keep."


    Aegon and Aemond exchanged nces, their eyes lingering on Hena before they fell silent. Hena''s expression shifted slightly as she put away her teasing attitude toward her young nephew. She hadn''t heard about Rhaenyra''s child but was aware of other news.


    "Roar..." The young dragon let out a squeak, breaking the momentary silence. Young Aemon was attracted by the sound, his big eyes fixed on the young dragon, his mouth watering uncontrobly.


    The young dragon opened its pale red wings and tilted its head to look at the human cub, a sh of recognition passing through its pupils.


    Then...


    "Roar!" The young dragon pped its wings and took off, screaming in panic and trying to escape. It remembered that when it first broke out of its shell, it had been bitten by this human cub.


    "Wa wa..." Seeing the young dragon''s cry, little Aemon imitated it, revealing his pink gums.


    "Haha, you''re still very rude," Rhaegar chuckled, wiping the drool from his son''s chin. He led Hena and the others out of the Dragonpit.


    Before leaving, he instructed the dragon keeper to asionally bring the young dragon to the Red Keep to interact with young Aemon.


    ...


    Red Keep, Banquet Hall


    Learning that his children were returning, Viserys, despite his poor health, ordered his servants to prepare a sumptuous lunch. Rhaegar changed into fresh clothes, washing off the dragon smell, and the others followed suit. After a long flight, they not only smelled of dragons but also of sweat.


    At the banquet, Viserys sat on one side of the long table, looking at his children with a pale face and a smile of relief. In his arms, he cradled Baelon, who was chewing on his hand. Rhaenyra sat nearby, cing Aemon on the table and letting the little one show his teeth to his brother. Baelon nced at him and continued to chew his hand.


    Viserys was delighted. "Look at these two little ones. They will grow up to be great warriors."


    Rhaegar smiled and nodded, asionally ncing at Hena and Aemond. Unlike Aegon, who seemed indifferent, these siblings were more sensitive, both distressed that Alicent could not attend the banquet. The prodigal son had returned home and couldn''t bear to see his mother absent.


    Rhaegar understood. He had been without a mother since he was a child and was used to it.


    Halfway through the banquet, as the siblings had eaten almost everything, Rhaegar noticed his father hesitating to speak. He asked, "Father, is there any news from the outside world?"


    This was a family feast, not a formal dinner. Lyonel and the other advisors were not present and had not received the news in time.


    Viserys hesitated for a moment. "Braavos has sent envoys to offer peace terms."


    "Is Ferregoso kind?" Rhaegar frowned.


    Viserys shook his head. "It wasn''t Ferrego. He died in a wildfire explosion. Braavos elected a new Sealord who wants peace."


    "That''s not a bad thing," Rhaegar thought of Braavos, far across the Narrow Sea, and asked, "Are the terms of peace proposed by the new Sealord harsh? Otherwise, why are you so hesitant?"


    Viserys looked around at his children, his eyes and brows showing signs of fatigue. He said sadly, "The new Sealord''s peace terms are generous, but he wants the Iron Throne to stop its invasion of Dorne and sign a truce with Prince Qyle of Sunspear."


    "His hand reaches far," Rhaegar said warily.


    "Dorne has already submitted," Viserys exined. "The new Sealord wants to stop the Dragon''s Wroth. He will persuade the Dorne rebels to put aside their prejudices and return to peace. The messenger also said that the new Sealord wants to reopen the trade routes to the Disputed Lands and restore the right to trade for both sides."


    Rhaegar thought about this for a moment. He understood. He had killed too many people in Dorne, and the new Sealord sought to soften the conflict. In keeping with the Free Cities'' tradition, the two sides would sign a peace treaty, and everyone would make money together.


    But why did his father look so troubled? Rhaegar''s mind shed with a figure.


    Viserys sighed and said bluntly, "The emissaries from Braavos not only visited King''s Landing but also Driftmark, the Stepstones, and Sunspear. Daemon and the Sea Snake allied themselves and cut off the messenger''s genitals as a way of refusing to stop the war."


    Corlys Vryon, known as the Sea Snake, was so outraged that he had once threatened to cut off the envoy''s to pieces and send it back to Braavos in a box. He had lost his heir and would not rest until he had taken his revenge.

 Chapter 477: Recall All Targaryens

    Chapter 477: Recall All Targaryens


    Rhaegar immediately understood.


    The Sea Snake had lost his son, and his hatred for Dorne had reached its peak. He had not yet vented his anger.


    Rhaegar''s knife and fork touched lightly as he thought deeply, muttering, "If the Sea Snake disagrees, how long can House Vryon hold out?"


    On the eve of the Battle of Myr, House Vryon lost half of its warships. In the subsequent battles of Tyrosh and Lys, the remaining fleet was further diminished by 30%. Currently, the blockade of the Stepstones and the control of the Greenblood River are barely maintained by House Vryon''s fleet carrying the army of the Crownds.


    Despite the losses, House Vryon reaped many benefits during the months of war. They looted wealthy merchants of Lys and Tyrosh, intercepted cargo ships at the Stepstones, and annexed the private property of nky Town and Sunspear. These actions allowed them to recover most of their losses.


    Moreover, the Triarchy would lower port taxes for House Vryon in the future and even share some of the rights of Lys. However, the joy of these gains vanished when Laenor was killed, nullifying the benefits.


    The Sea Snake lost his most important political asset, the only male heir who could ride a dragon. Now over 60 years old, his time was running out. Once the war ended, House Vryon would face an immediate struggle for session.


    Viserys listened in silence, pondering the Sea Snake''s predicament. Without an heir, the threat only increased.


    Rhaegar weighed the situation and said thoughtfully, "A peace treaty is necessary. It''s good that the realm will be at peace soon, but it depends on whether all parties can obtain satisfactory conditions."


    Internally, Daemon upied Tyrosh and the Sea Snake shared Lys''s rights. These were almost certain. Externally, the new Sealord was sincere in restoring maritime trade in the Triarchy and uniting with Prince Qyle to quash the rebels'' ambitions.


    But things were not so simple. Daemon might not be honest, and the Sea Snake would definitely stir up trouble over session. Even within the Targaryen family, with Alicent and Otto in custody, appeasing the younger siblings would be a major challenge. Not to mention Braavos, where merchants never did business at a loss.


    Viserys filtered out the difficulties and a gleam of joy appeared in his eyes. "You agree to sign the peace terms?"


    The Narrow Sea War was the beginning of everything. Now, the Disputed Lands, including the lower half of the Narrow Sea, were incorporated into the Iron Throne''s territory. The rebellion in Dorne had faced two rounds of Dragon''s Wroth, causing countless noble casualties and pushing them to recuperate.


    As a king with deteriorating health, Viserys sincerely hoped the war would end soon. The credit and glory would be recorded in the family''s history, giving a wise and honorable name to future generations.


    Rhaegar nodded. "Of course, Dorne is not worth the time. The Disputed Lands haverge tracts of fertilend waiting to be developed."


    "That''s good. During your absence from King''s Landing, many nobles andmoners have secretlyined about the harm of war."


    Viserys felt relieved, a smile of relief appearing on his lips. With continuous wars, nobles andmoners were exhausted and unwilling. Peace was essential for smooth governance.


    After a moment of thought, Viserys suggested, "Rhaenys has sent a letter supporting peace, but the attitudes of Daemon and the Sea Snake remain problematic. I n to summon them back to King''s Landing for a family banquet."


    They could sit at the same table and talk things over face to face.


    "No problem," Rhaegar agreed. The war was basically over, and no major changes were expected. The Crownds troops were stationed in the Rivends, and the Sea Snake''s nephewsmanded troops in Sunspear. There was no fear of rebellion. With the speed of a dragon, any rebellion could be quickly resolved.


    It was time to hold a family meeting and tear the fragile veil of secrecy. They would talk openly and discuss an oue that everyone could ept.


    Viserys''s smile grew brighter as he kissed Baelon repeatedly, devouring a te of roastedmb and half a bottle of golden wine. The father and son were in high spirits, and the atmosphere at the luncheon reached a climax.


    Aegon stood with one foot on the floor and the other on a chair, holding a bottle of wine and pouring it down his throat. Viserys pped andughed, saying Aegon had the same style he did back then.


    Rhaenyra looked helpless, rushing between her father and the children, missing the days when she had to take care of Alicent. At least her father didn''t need her to look after him.


    Rhaegar leaned back in his chair, a smile ying on his lips as he watched the scene unfold.


    Baelon wriggled free from his grandfather''s arms and snuggled into his mother''s embrace, cooing and rooting for milk. Rhaenyra had no choice but to wave the guards away and retreat to a corner to nurse him.


    Meanwhile, little Aemon was left at the table. With a determined wiggle of his bottom, he managed to get close to the roast pig, which was bigger than he was.


    "Little one, let me hold you," Hena said, her eyes sparkling as she reached out to her nephew.


    Rhaegar nced over, the corner of his mouth lifting in amusement. Hena, still childlike in her innocence, knelt on a chair with one leg, her whole body leaning over the table, the other leg sticking out.


    Her pure mind and gift for divination had spared her from the rigiddy''s education Alicent had received.


    "Wow!" Aemon''s eyes widened as he tried to bite the pig''s snout, only to drool copiously due to hisck of teeth. Hena tilted her head, resting her cheek on her hands, and watched her nephew''s struggle with delight.


    "This is much more fun than teasing the baby dragon," she thought. "He will be able to talkter."


    Rhaegar sipped his sweet wine, admiring the two children, one big and one small. Suddenly, he realized he had forgotten someone. He nced sideways.


    Aemond sat upright, his single eye filled with an inexplicable emotion as he watched Hena interact with little Aemon.


    "What are you thinking?" Rhaegar asked.


    Aemond was momentarily taken aback but quicklyposed himself. Turning to face his brother, he asked, "Will you give me Stonehelm?"


    "So eager to get a castle?" Rhaegar asked with a smile, swirling his wine cup. His younger brother was bing more sophisticated and sensible, though not yet fully restrained.


    Aemond nodded slightly and replied bluntly, "I need a fiefdom to stand on my own without relying on others."


    After several wars, Aemond''s mind had be more enlightened. He found House Hightower, his mother, and Aegon unreliable. Hena was a girl, and little Daeron was still too young to be a male heir. In therge House Targaryen, conflicts were inevitable, and Rhaegar couldn''t protect everyone.


    Aemond saw himself as a Targaryen man with a backbone, ready to protect his mother and Aegon.


    Rhaegar stared at Aemond for a moment, his expression gradually bing more serious. He sat up straight, meeting Aemond''s confident and ambitious gaze.


    "You''ve grown up," Rhaegar said, a hint of relief and mncholy in his voice. The once-tiny baby had grown into a man who could stand tall and straight.


    Aemond, notcent, lowered his head and thought deeply. "With my military achievements, I probably won''t be able to take a castle. I can go patrol Dorne and continue to make achievements."


    His merits and faults were bnced, but his military achievements didn''t match those of Aegon and Hena. He couldn''t afford to becent.


    "No need!" Rhaegar said, pping Aemond on the shoulder with a smile. "House Swann has only a few distant rtives left. Stonehelm is yours."


    "Really?" Aemond''s expression changed.


    "The Targaryens always keep their word," Rhaegar said, pounding his chest. "Study hard and train in the martial arts. Otherwise, when Lord Lyonel retires, I can''t promise you will be the Hand of the King."


    "Mmm-hmm!" Aemond''s single eye glowed, and he nodded eagerly.


    Hand of the King! Even his uncle Daemon, was never on the Small Council, had never evene close to that position.


    The conversation between the brothers was not concealed, and everyone heard it clearly.


    Aegon''s face flushed with anger. He snorted in disdain and shoved a piece of beef onto his fork, chewing it forcefully.


    Viserys, pleased, watched his two sons, seeing a young version of himself and Daemon. Since Aemond had sacrificed himself to save his father, Viserys had paid much more attention to this son.


    Hena was still lying on the table, her hands gripping Aemon''s little legs. She was dragging Aemon, who was dragging the roast pig, which in turn was dragging the dinner te. The two children, with equal brains, were having a great time.


    ...


    Time flies, and the half-month passes quickly.


    King''s Landing, Mud Gate.


    Commoners gather on the dock, their eyes fixed on the vast expanse of ckwater Bay. ording to thetest rumors circting in Flea Bottom, today is the day the Queen Who Never Was, Rhaenys and Prince Daemon return to court. Delegates from House Vryon of Driftmark, emissaries of Sunspear, and guests from Braavos are expected to be there.


    Many vendors push their carts, braving the hot sun to sell fresh fruit and oysters. This rare event is a golden opportunity for them to make a profit.


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, a thunderous dragon roar echoes, and a scarlet dragon shadow shes across the clouds above ckwater Bay. Before the people can catch a clear glimpse, the white clouds swirl into a tumultuous mass, leaving only a gentle breeze behind.


    "Roar..."


    Another shrill, piercing scream fills the air, exuding a strong sense of intimidation.


    Whoosh.


    A huge, serpentine scarlet dragon swoops over the Mud Gate, its fiery breath searing the wind, its dark red wings pping as it heads towards Rhaenys''s hill. Two dragons appear in session, thrilling the onlookers.


    On ckwater Bay, a dozen ships slowly sail in, half of them flying House Vryon''s green-and-white seahorse g. Corlys, the Sea Snake, stands alone on the deck, his hands gripping the ship''s railing tightly. He nces at therge ships trailing the fleet, adorned with purple shells and spears, his eyes cold and steely.


    "Damn Braavos, damn Martell!" he mutters, his voice low, knuckles white as he gazes at the magnificent Red Keep, built along the coast. "Family meeting? Let''s see what kind of tricks they can y."


    ...


    Red Keep, main gate of the Sept.


    Rhaegar sits on the edge of the flower bed, looking up at the two red dragons hovering above.


    "This is so annoying!" Aegon exims, suddenly emerging from the Sept, scratching his head and cursing.


    Rhaegar nces over and asks, "What did Alicent say?"

 Chapter 478: Daemon’s Sigh

    Chapter 478: Daemon��s Sigh


    Aegon''s eyes shed with irritation. "What else can I say? It''s the same old thing over and over again," he grumbled.


    He had just met with Alicent and had been bombarded with talk about fighting back. It was overwhelming, and he felt the need for a drink to calm his nerves.


    Rhaegar noticed his mood and waved his hand dismissively. "Get lost."


    "Okay!" Aegon brightened up immediately and ran off.


    Rhaegar covered his head and sighed deeply. Thank goodness this kid has a dragon that can go into battle, otherwise there''d be nothing to count on him for. Who can drink faster, or who can bed more women?


    Reflecting on the day''s events, Rhaegar tried to adjust his state of mind and force himself to be more spirited. The family meeting, with Alicent in attendance as queen, was crucial.


    But first, he had topose himself. Alicent had asked to see her children, and Rhaegar had obliged. Aegon hade out first, while Hena and Aemond were still in the tower.


    ...


    The chapel, at the top of the tower.


    The air smelled faintly of mold in the dim light.


    Hena and Aemond huddled in the corridor, speaking to Alicent through the door. Compared to a month ago, the tower''s environment had improved. The cobwebs were gone, the wooden floors were spotless, and a new window let light into the once-dark room.


    Alicent sat on a hard board bed covered with a wool nket, crying about her situation.


    "I''m going crazy. Where is your grandfather... Is Rhaegar giving you trouble? What about Viserys?"


    Hena looked downcast, her head resting against the wall as she listened in silence. Aemond watched his mother with aplex expression, his one eye full of concern. When he heard about his brother and grandfather, he felt a mixture of grief and resentment.


    Rhaegar had not mistreated them. On the contrary, their grandfather, who was supposed to return to King''s Landing to report on his work, had disappeared, unseen in Highgarden or Bitterbridge.


    Alicent''s voice grew hoarse, her eyes red from crying. "You... take care of yourselves, especially little Daeron."


    The three older children had grown up and had their own opinions. Only six-year-old Daeron remained, a child who studied hard and always listened to others.


    Aemond turned his head and whispered, "Little Daeron is fine. He ys with the Ba and Rhaena sisters every day and no one bullies him."


    Alicent was slightly relieved. She reached through the space in the door to stroke Aemond''s eye patch, choking back tears. "My poor child, you''re still so young and you''ve lost an eye."


    "I was protecting my father," Aemond replied, letting his mother stroke his cheek, his voice strong and determined.


    "Viserys is no father!" Alicent''s face darkened as she admonished, "You have a father who is partial. Learn from Aegon''s acquisition of his fiefdom so you won''t be driven out of King''s Landing like Daemon."


    "Mother!" Aemond cried out, unwilling to hear such words. He had heard enough from Aegon just now.


    Alicent was stunned by the outburst, staring at her second son in disbelief. Aemond realized he had spoken out of turn, his eyes troubled and guilty.


    Alicent slumped to the floor, leaning against the dpidated wooden door. She muttered to herself, "You all hate me, even my own children," as tears rolled down her cheeks.


    Aegon''s abrupt departure was expected, given his usual behavior, but Aemond''s shout was a hammer blow to her heart.


    "Sorry, I didn''t mean it," Aemond stamped his feet in frustration. "I''ll beg my father and brother to forgive you."


    Then he covered his head and ran down the stairs, leaving the tower with only a saddened Alicent and a withdrawn Hena.


    Alicent remained still, listening to her daughter''s heartbeat through the wooden door. Hena was her favorite, and even without words, her presence wasforting.


    "Mother, being alone will make you lose your mind," Hena said suddenly, sitting down beside her.


    Alicent couldn''t help but recall the lovely sight of Hena as a child, her heart growing even sadder.


    "You can''t stay locked up in that dark room anymore. I''m taking you out," Hena said firmly.


    "They won''t let me off lightly," Alicent replied, almost to herself.


    Hena shook her head. "I''m going to take you out." She stood up and walked out, muttering, "I have to think of a way."


    Alicenty back against the wooden door, watching her daughter''s retreating figure and listening to her muttering. It felt as if a huge stone had been ced on her chest, making it hard to breathe.


    ...


    Red Keep.


    The carriage of House Vryon arrived at the city gates, bringing with it guests from afar. The simple procession was divided into small groups, and they soon entered the council chamber.


    Lyonel led Aegon and Aemond as the hosts, his head held high and his chest puffed out.


    Corlys nced at the two Targaryen boys and said indifferently, "How is His Grace''s health? Why is the heir prince not here?"


    Aegon shrugged. "If you prefer Rhaegar, I''ll fetch him for you," he offered, clearly uninterested in his duties.


    "Prince Aegon!" Lyonel snapped, then added, "Lord Corlys is a great man, and we must treat him with respect."


    "Yes~" Aegon replied weakly, sounding as though he had exerted himself too much the night before.


    Corlys'' face darkened, his patience waning. Toozy to argue with this insolent youth, he snorted and entered the hall, his sleeves pping.


    Rhaenys and Daemon followed, watching the scene with different expressions. Rhaenys forced a smile, saying helplessly, "Corlys is in a bad mood. I''ll try to appease him."


    She understood the underlying tension of this gathering, which was supposed to be a family dinner. Her husband''s staunch opposition to the peace talks and his extreme dissatisfaction were at the heart of the issue.


    "Heh heh," Daemon chuckled, arms crossed, amused by the spectacle.


    Lyonel suggested, "Prince Daemon, if you are concerned about His Grace''s health, you may visit the pce first."


    "Oh?" Daemon responded yfully. "When did my brother ever care about me? Or is this my good nephew''s gesture?"


    This was unlike Viserys'' usual behavior.


    Lyonel did not answer directly. "You can go and see for yourself. You''ll understand then."


    He then called Rhaenys and the guests to enter the hall together. Daemon, watching coldly, sneered, "ying smart."


    He turned around and headed for the king''s chambers.


    ...


    The King''s Bedroom.


    Viserysy pale on his bed, gasping for breath, his pupils unfocused and dted.


    "Father, try to adjust your breathing," Rhaegar urged gently, sitting by the bed and holding his father''s hands. He channeled the magic of fire to stimte blood flow.


    After half a month, the Soul Restoring Orchid powder was used up, and Viserys often had nightmares.


    "Ho ho..." Viserys muttered weakly, a fishy odor emanating from his mouth. "No more... no more..."


    Rhaegar, worried, tried tomunicate, "Father, what don''t you want?"


    "No more," Viserys repeated, staring at the ceiling, his head shaking slightly. "I''m sorry, my dear..."


    Rhaegar was silent for a moment. Did his father mean histe mother, Aemma Arryn, when he said "dear"? Did "no more" mean he regretted urging her to conceive again? Or was he referring to Alicent?


    "Wa wa wa..." The sound of a baby crying came from the inner room outside the bedroom, followed by Rhaenyra''s soothing luby.


    Rhaegar sighed softly, took the Soul Restoring Orchid''s powder box, and sprinkled the remaining powder on his father''s pillow. Viserys''s eyes closed, his muttering ceased, and his breathing gradually returned to normal.


    Rhaegar smiled wryly. He hadn''t expected his father to be so dependent on drugs after being forbidden to use poppy milk. "There''s not much powder left," he muttered, rubbing his face. "Syrio is stationed in Lys, and it will take time to send someone to the Smoking Sea to find more Soul Restoring Orchid."


    The Soul Restoring Orchid only grows in the Smoking Sea, so offering a reward for its recovery seemed the best option.


    Creak.


    The door opened, and Daemon entered with a sour expression. He had wanted to vent his anger in the council hall with the Sea Snake.


    "Daemon?" Rhaenyra, holding a baby in each arm, looked at him in surprise.


    Daemon was even more surprised than his niece, his eyes falling on the two pink baby faces. "Congrattions, you have twins," he said with aplex expression.


    "Laena also gave birth to twins for you," Rhaenyra cooed to the children.


    Daemon shook his head and sighed, "It''s unlikely she''ll be able to give me another pair."


    On the surface, Corlys had lost his eldest son and Driftmark its heir. In truth, Daemon was in a simr position,cking a son.


    Rhaenyra didn''t dwell on the topic, pointing to the bedroom. "Rhaegar is inside."


    Daemon gave the two baby boys a fond look before turning to enter the bedroom.


    At first nce, Viserys was sound asleep, with his good nephew keeping himpany.


    "No wonder you didn''t show up," Daemon remarked, leaning against the doorframe, his face expressionless, his eyes fixed on Viserys''s pale face.


    Rhaegar, in no mood for small talk, spoke frankly, "Father is in a very bad state. The Maester says it''s a problem with his spirit."


    "Spirit or nerves?" Daemon''s eyes deepened, delving into the question. During his travels with Laena through the Free Cities, he had spent much time in the libraries of Pentos, collecting biographies of the Dragonlord family and enriching his knowledge in all aspects.


    Rhaegar stroked his father''s furrowed brow and said cautiously, "You heard me right. You can also understand it as the soul."


    The records of the fire mage''s heritage suggest that the human body is an independent energy field. The soul strengthens the body, the body strengthens the soul, and the soul guides the body''s actions. The weak will inevitably have weak souls, and those withcking souls will mostlyck energy. The Citadel has confirmed this.


    Daemon''s face grew solemn. "The soul is damaged, and ordinary healers cannot cure it." He had been skeptical about this, but after obtaining the binding spell of the Aethyrys family, he had glimpsed another dimension of the world.


    Taking Viserys''s wrist and peering into his eyes, Daemon said nothing, his expression grave. "What are you going to do about my brother''s condition?"

 Chapter 479: Otto’s Misfortune

    Chapter 479: Otto��s Misfortune


    "We need peace!" Rhaegar''s tone was resolute. "The time for conquest is over. The kingdom needs to rest and recuperate."


    Daemon frowned, unconvinced. "There are still many rebels in Dorne, and Braavos is only pretending to be reconciled."


    "This is my father''s wish," Rhaegar replied, his determination evident.


    The new Sealord of Braavos had offered favorable peace terms, willing to settle the rebellion in Dorne and maintain trade in the Disputed Lands. The Targaryens had no reason to refuse.


    Daemon saw it differently, perceiving his nephew''s words as a threat. "As long as Viserys is willing, we can blockade the seas of Dorne and eliminate the Sand Snakes sooner orter. Braavos, on the edge of the Shivering Sea, could be reduced to ruins within a month if a few dragons flew over it."


    Rhaegar shook his head andughed. Instead of praising his uncle''s strategy, he asked, "Have the ruins of Tyrosh been rebuilt?"


    "Hmm?" Daemon narrowed his eyes.


    Rhaegar nced at his sleeping father and continued, "Even now, Lys and Myr have not been rebuilt. More than 100,000 people struggle to survive every day. We can''t just upy a city in ashes."


    After months of upation in the Triarchy, true governance had yet to be established. With House Martell of Dorne''s deration of submission, thends reduced to ashes by the Dragon''s Wroth would be included in the Iron Throne''s territory. But upying and ruling are two different things.


    Rhaegar smiled. "It''s funny, I haven''t yet appointed any Grand Masters to Lys and Myr."


    Daemon''s eyes shed with a dangerous light as he warned, "If we don''t seize this opportunity now, it will be difficult to find such a favorable situation again in the future."


    He acknowledged the problem his nephew had pointed out. The Targaryens had the power to conquer Dorne and the Free Cities, but not the ability to govern them. The most crucial point was that Tyrosh still used the magisters from before the conquest, and while Daemon was away from the Free Cities, Mysaria managed everything. The reasons for not ending the war were pride and a desire to be recognized.


    Rhaegar, understanding his uncle''s thoughts, said, "You can''t get fat by eating too much at once; you''ll choke."


    After conquering the Triarchy and Dorne, the territory would include the Stepstones, the Sea of Dorne, and the Summer Sea. Governing and garrisoning such arge area would be a significant challenge. The cost of maintaining the territory would be astronomical.


    Given his father''s condition, Rhaegar had only one thought for the time being: stop the war, recover the ie from the new territories, and umte wealth for the next conflict.


    Daemon thought deeply, considering the wealth and prestige gained from this war and the grand cause nned. He asked coldly, "What do you want me to do?"


    "Support me and my father, and don''t side with the Sea Snake and help outsiders," Rhaegar said straightforwardly.


    "The Sea Snake is only seeking revenge for his son."


    "Do you believe that yourself?" Rhaegar retorted, lifting the veil of pretense. "The Sea Snake has lost his heir. He just wants to use the war to drag everyone down and satisfy his own selfish desires."


    House Vryon was not limited to the Sea Snake. Thete VaemondVryon had five sons, not to mention other branches of the family. The Sea Snake''s persistence was due to his desire to keep Driftmark, which he had elevated, out of outsiders'' hands and to fight for his own chance.


    "If you see so clearly, you should know that I am on his side," Daemon said, aligning himself with his father-inw and best ally.


    Rhaegar nced sideways and said, "I will appoint you as the Prince of Tyrosh. Tyrosh will be your family''s territory."


    Daemon smiled seductively. "Deal."


    It was better to be given it openly than to upy it privately. That was what he wanted: a fiefdom and recognition.


    ...


    It waste afternoon, and the sun was setting.


    After receiving the envoys from Braavos and Dorne, Lyonel led them to the throne room. The hall was filled with people.


    Rhaegar sat on the Iron Throne, holding ckfyre in his hand, looking down at the assembled crowd. Daemon was the first to sit at the foot of the Iron Throne, a sly smile ying on his lips.


    "Prince, the ambassadors are here," Lyonel announced, standing opposite Daemon as he respectfully introduced the two ambassadors.


    The man from Braavos was thin with brown curly hair, a gold watch hanging from his chest, exuding an air of refinement and rigor. The Dorne representative was a tall young man with tinum hair and blue eyes, d in heavy te armor.


    The thin man bowed and spoke first. "The honorable Breaker of Shackles, I am Baelus of Braavos, sends his greetings. May you inherit the greatness and wisdom of the conqueror."


    "Please rise," Rhaegar replied.


    The tall youth stepped forward, cing one hand on his chest, and said respectfully, "Dorys of House Dayne, on behalf of Prince Qyle of Sunspear, sends his greetings."


    Rhaegar scrutinized him and asked, "Who is Davos Dayne of Dorne to you?"


    Dorys replied without hesitation, "He is my cousin, the strongest Knight in Starfall, thete Sword of the Dawn."


    Rhaegar nodded in understanding and got straight to the point. "The offer from the Sealord of Braavos is tempting. The Iron Throne longs for peace and is truly forced to ignite the mes of war."


    Baelus smiled. "Sealord Sparda also favors peace, and he has sent me to bring you a gift."


    He pped his hands, and several attendants brought in a box. When opened, it revealed various gold and silver jewelry, along with precious antique porcin.


    Rhaegar barely nced at the treasures and said casually, "I have received the Sealord''s sincerity."


    Baelus waved his hand to dismiss his men and proposed, "The Sealord also mentioned that the money borrowed from the Myr Bank will be settled at the best exchange rate to support the renovation of the Free Cities."


    Rhaegar''s mouth twitched, recognizing the subtle reminder not to default on the loan. Yet, he didn''t want to appear ungrateful. He smiled and said, "Thank the Sealord for me. The Iron Bank has a long-standing reputation, and we will continue to borrow from it in the future."


    Whether repayment would ur was another matter, but borrowing was certain. Ideally, repayment could be dyed for decades, possibly using a future war to seize Braavos, thus avoiding repayment altogether.


    Baelus''s eyelids twitched slightly, silently cursing. The Iron Throne''s continued borrowing raised doubts about repayment.


    Rhaegar shifted his gaze to Dorys, leaving thoughts of debt behind.


    He opened his mouth slightly, preparing to ask a question.


    Suddenly, a burst of footsteps echoed outside the hall, and a figure stormed in.


    Corlys, face dark with anger, walked up to him. "Prince, the rebellion in Dorne is still ongoing. The soldiers on the front line are fighting bravely against the enemy. How can you negotiate peace on your own?"


    "Silence!" Lyonel interjected before Rhaegar could respond, his voice filled with indignation. "Lord Corlys, you are in the presence of the Regent and Heir Prince. You are only a adviser of the Crown. Remember your ce and manners!"


    Corlys clenched his jaw, his expression angry. "Sorry! I was only asking a reasonable question as the Master of Ships."


    At that moment, Rhaenys hurried over, her eyes and brows showing a hint of fatigue. She nodded respectfully to Rhaegar, then stood next to Corlys and whispered in his ear, "Look at Daemon''s position."


    Corlys, taken aback, finally noticed Daemon standing at the foot of the Iron Throne, a smile on his face. "Damn it, this treacherous petty man," Corlys gritted his teeth in hatred.


    Rhaenys, sensing her husband''s thoughts, said matter-of-factly, "Daemon only works hard for himself."


    She never trusted her son-inw and cousin, Daemon. After saving Pentos, she had asked him to stay in the Disputed Lands to defend it, but Daemon had rushed to Dorne without a care.


    Lyonel interrupted their whispering, his voice loud and clear: "Lord Corlys, this is not Driftmark, where you can do as you please."


    Corlys'' face turned even darker. "The matter of peace is too important to be decided by Your Grace and the heir prince alone. It should be decided by the Small Council."


    Lyonel was about to retort when Rhaegar waved his hand to interrupt. He knew that leaving Lyonel alone to deal with Corlys''s questioning wouldn''t achieve the desired result.


    Corlys looked at Rhaegar, waiting for his response.


    Rhaegar tapped the ckfyre, his expression stern. "Lord Corlys, the peace negotiations are inevitable. You have no right to object."


    "I am the Master of Ships and, in times of war, the Admiral of the Navy," Corlys emphasized, pointing to himself.


    "House Vryon has contributed the most to the Narrow Sea War and the Dorne War. We have always been at the forefront of the battlefield."


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed. "I know your sacrifices have been great. If there are any questions or difficulties, we will hold a family dinnerter to solve them together."


    Corlys frowned, clearly reluctant.


    Rhaenys pulled him by the arm and smiled. "We''re looking forward to the family dinner."


    She paused, her words full of meaning. "Just like hoping for victory on the Iron Throne, even if it means giving everything up." Her eyes fixed on her nephew, conveying her belief that he would understand.


    Rhaegar understood perfectly. "Don''t worry, everyone will enjoy the dinner."


    "Good," Rhaenys said, her smile widening. She pped her hands. "Please excuse us while we prepare for the dinner."


    "Isn''t that right, Corlys?"


    Corlys nced sideways at his wife, who gave him a warning look. Reluctantly, he nodded. "Yes, Prince."


    One must bow one''s head when under the same roof. The Targaryens were no longer the Targaryens of old, and Vryon was no longer the Vryon of old.


    Rhaegar smiled. "Very well, dinner awaits you both."


    He breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for his aunt Rhaenys''s thoughtfulness. Despite everything, Corlys had achieved great military feats and even sacrificed his only child, almost cutting off his bloodline.


    Rhaenys nodded to Daemon and Lyonel before leading Corlys away from the ce of trouble.


    With the interruption over, Rhaegar''s eyes fell on Dorys once more.


    Dorys, who had been waiting for this moment, stepped forward and said, "Prince, I encountered a suspicious person in the Summer Sea and took him into custody on my own initiative."


    He beckoned, and two knights in armor bearing the House Dayne crest entered with a man under their control.


    Thick curly hair, green-striped clothes with a ck background, a face that was so familiar it was almost too familiar.


    Otto was in a terrible state, his left leg hanging limply as he was led by the arm of the two knights.


    Bang! The two knights pushed Otto hard, and he fell heavily to the ground, emitting a muffled groan of pain.

 Chapter 480: The Greatest and Most Complex Family Dinner Ever

    Chapter 480: The Greatest and Most Complex Family Dinner Ever


    "Otto!"


    Seeing Otto lying on the ground and moaning in agony, everyone present reacted with shock and rm.


    Lyonel''s face changed slightly, his eyes flickering between Otto and Dorys, and a visible anger began to form. As an adviser to the king, he could not stand by and watch his colleague be humiliated.


    Dorys had already prepared an exnation. "This lord was caught trying to sneak out of the Narrow Sea by boat."


    In fact, that was more or less the truth. But it wasn''t his idea; he was just following orders.


    Rhaegar looked down at Otto''s pitiful state and frowned imperceptibly. He had been waiting for this moment.


    Otto let out a gasp, and with all his strength, he pushed himself up, revealing a pale face that hardly seemed alive. Rhaegar nced sideways, noticing his left leg, which was covered in dried blood. Otto also looked up, his numb eyes staring at the heir prince high above him, and a chill ran down his spine. It was unimaginable how much suffering he had endured at the hands of the Dornish people over the past two weeks.


    Dorys grabbed him by the cor and said in a low voice, "There was an ident during the arrest. A stray arrow hit his leg, and he didn''t have time to be treated." He then looked very apologetic.


    Lyonel was furious, his fists clenched so hard they creaked, and he wanted to smash the Dornishman''s head in with a single blow. If he hadn''t realized Otto was in trouble, he would have taken it as a tant provocation.


    Daemon crossed his arms and smiled. "A missing leg shouldn''t be a problem for a blood-sucking leech."


    "Prince Daemon, you''re as mean as ever," Ottoughed bitterly, reaching for his unconscious left leg and sitting up with Dorys''s help.


    Daemon smiled mockingly and watched the spectacle with pleasure. He was happy when Otto suffered. A man''s happiness could be so simple.


    Rhaegar''s mouth twitched slightly, thinking to himself, My good uncle really isn''t hiding anything. He''s not showing any emotion on his face. "Do you have any solid evidence, Ser Dorys?"


    "Of course, Prince," Dorys replied, calm and collected as if he had rehearsed it hundreds of times. He took a letter from his breast pocket and said, "This is a letter from the Lord and Prince of Pentos."


    Otto''s expression froze, and his breathing becamebored.


    Dorys didn''t even look at him and continued, "I also captured some sailors and mercenaries, who can also make an identification."


    The words were spoken calmly, showing extraordinary confidence.


    Lyonel''s eyes widened in surprise. He never imagined that Otto would dare to do so many "big things."


    Lyman and the others in the hall stared at Otto in shock, their expressions full of mixed emotions. The queen had just been imprisoned, and instead of helping his daughter, Otto had set the High Tower on fire and fled?


    "p, p, p."


    Rhaegar pped his hands, fixing his gaze on Otto. "Lord Otto, I have only one question. Did you set the High Tower on fire?"


    "Cough, cough..." Otto coughed angrily, his teeth clenched. "Prince, what is the point of discussing this now?"


    Of course he had set the fire, but it was never meant to kill his brother Ormund. Someone must have interfered.


    Rhaegar pressed on, "As the royal adviser, why did you run away to Pentos instead of serving the kingdom?"


    "My brother asked me to visit the Prince of Pentos to promote trade between our family and the Iron Throne," Otto weakly argued.


    Rhaegar shook his head. "That''s not a good enough reason. Dorys has produced overwhelming evidence that you murdered your brother and fled with the money."


    Otto''s lips moved, but he couldn''t refute the usation. The fact was, he had set the fire, and Ormund had let him go to Pentos to hide out.


    Rhaegar announced, "You are guilty, Otto Hightower."


    Otto looked at him deeply and then closed his eyes in resignation. He was innocent! ''I know you''re innocent,'' Rhaegar thought to himself. But what does it matter?


    Rhaegar''s lips curled slightly as he said, "Ser Dorys, thank you for returning Otto Hightower."


    Dorys bowed. "It is my honor to serve the Iron Throne."


    Their eyes met for a moment, and they both saw a satisfied smile in each other''s eyes.


    Rhaegar looked at Lyonel. "Otto has made a grave mistake. He should be imprisoned in the dungeons of the Red Keep and await judgment."


    "Yes, Prince," Lyonel replied, though slightly confused, he followed the order.


    The guards at the entrance of the hall entered and dragged the disheveled Otto out. Otto looked up at the sky, his pale face showing a deathly stillness. He had no thoughts of resistance; he was powerless.


    The council continued for a while, ending in a harmonious discussion between the three parties.


    Rhaegar stepped down from the Iron Throne and passed by Erryk, giving him a knowing look. Erryk understood immediately and followed him out of the throne room.


    Finding a secluded corner, Rhaegar asked, "Where are Laena and her two daughters?"


    Erryk recalled and replied, "The Princess is with Laena, and Ba and Rhaena are studying with Prince Daeron."


    Rhaegar''s eyes darkened, and he ordered, "Keep an eye on Lord Corlys'' movements at all times. Don''t cause trouble before or after the banquet."


    Erryk paused for a moment, trying to grasp the meaning behind themand.


    Rhaegar winked.


    "Yes, I''ll get right on it," Erryk responded, calling a group of guards before leaving.


    ...


    A guest room in the Red Keep.


    The two heads of House Vryon were in the midst of a heated argument.


    Corlys was furious. "Look at the mess you''ve made! The peace talks have been concluded, and now we''re in a passive position."


    "Corlys, are you letting your anger cloud your judgment?" Rhaenys responded calmly. "The realm needs peace. War isn''t the only solution."


    Corlys, his mind racing, retorted, "But it was our sacrifices that gave us the upper hand!"


    House Vryon had sacrificed so much��Laenor was killed, two of his "nephews" were lost, and half of the fleet was gone. Without an heir, they risked losing Driftmark entirely. Who would resolve his dilemma?


    Rhaenys closed her eyes, silent tears welling up. Mentioning Laenor tore at her heart. He was the son she had carried for ten months. Laenor was killed, but who could understand a mother''s pain?


    Seeing his wife''s tears, Corlys feltpassion and gradually calmed down. The couple sat on either side of the table, neither speaking.


    After a long silence, Rhaenys regained herposure, wiped her tears, and said sternly, "Daemon must have been promised a reward for his betrayal."


    "Nonsense! That uncle and nephew never do anything for free," Corlys fumed.


    When Tyrosh was first conquered, it was agreed they would work together to divide the Disputed Lands with Pentos and Vntis, sharing the spoils. But Daemon had been too impatient. He upied Tyrosh, drove out all Iron Throne forces, and imed thend for himself. As a result, Pentos and Vntis distanced themselves from the Iron Throne, and House Vryon missed out on territory beyond the Narrow Sea.


    "Let''s not dwell on that. Everyone has their own agenda," Rhaenys interrupted, catching an important detail. "Rhaegar''s willingness to make peace with Daemon, despite their past differences, shows he''s wary of House Vryon and will make concessions to appease you."


    House Vryon had done a great deal. It made no sense to court Daemon and suppress the war heroes.


    Corlys realized this and saw the clues. "This dinner is a negotiation."


    "Exactly," Rhaenys nodded. "Instead of worrying about yourself, think about what''s best for us."


    "Hmph!" Corlys snorted. "No amount of tempting conditions can bring Laenor back."


    If he could, he would give up everything to have his eldest son back. This put him in a dilemma.


    After some thought, Corlys stood up. "I''ll go talk to Daemon. He might have something to say."


    He couldn''t secure enough benefits alone; he had to ally with someone important.


    Rhaenys, unconcerned, took a sip from her wine ss. "You could try leaving before the dinner."


    "What do you mean?" Corlys frowned and quickly walked to the door, opening it a crack.


    In the hallway, Erryk was leading a team of guards. Noticing Corlys''s gaze, Erryk said respectfully, "There are guests at the Red Keep. I''ve been ordered to protect Princess Rhaenys and the Lord."


    Corlys turned away, mming the door shut. Rhaenys sneered, "Rhaegar won''t give you and Daemon a chance to conspire. His duty is to maintain peace, not settle disputes all day."


    Corlys''s face turnedpletely ck.


    ...


    Soon, night fell.


    The Red Keep was illuminated brilliantly, and servants bustled about, preparing for the grandest banquet the royal family had hosted in years.


    In the banquet hall, two long tables were joined together, and people gathered around them.


    At one end of the table, Aegon, holding a gon of wine, chatted with Aemond, boasting about his exploits in the burning of Sunspear.


    "You''ve had enough to drink," Aemond said, disgusted, subtly disying his one-eyed dagger.


    Hena sat next to her brothers, half-lying on the table,ughing heartily. Across from her, young Aemon sat, his wide purple eyes giving her a warning look.


    On the other side of the long table, Rhaena watched as little Daeron wrestled with her sister Ba. Daeron was losing.


    Daemon and Laena stood nearby, watching the three children while discussing Tyrosh''s renovation ns.


    "I''ll start by building a pce for the prince, modeled after Lys''s perfume garden," Daemon said.


    "You don''t seem to have that kind of money..." Laena replied.


    In the middle of the table, at the heart of the banquet, Rhaenys sat a seat away from Rhaenyra, who was ying with little Baelon. The aunt and niece exchanged nces now and then, only to look away again��a Queen Who Never Was and a former heir to the Iron Throne. Two women who had missed out on the throne, their interactions marked by an inexplicable awkwardness.


    Corlys sat on Rhaenys'' right, his face dark with displeasure, watching Hena y with her nephew.


    Everyone chatted casually, the tension of the long war gradually loosening. Servants moved through the hall, setting out the dishes.


    Aegon slurped his drink impatiently. "Why hasn''t the banquet started yet? Drinking alone isn''t any fun."


    Aemond was about to retort when Corlys intervened seriously, "I don''t see any important people here yet. Just wait patiently."


    "Tsk!" Aegon turned away. An old Vryon riffraff. Do you really think the Red Keep is your home?


    Creak!


    The door suddenly opened, drawing everyone''s attention.


    Rhaegar entered, his face expressionless, his long silver-blonde hair flowing down his shoulders, dressed in a solemn ck robe. He was slightly bowed, supporting another person.


    Seeing this, Corlys''s expression changed slightly. He pushed his chair back and stood up.


    "Wee to this family dinner, everyone," Rhaegar announced.


    Viserys walked slowly, leaning on his eldest son for support, his pale face breaking into a heartfelt smile. The family was finally gathered together.

 Chapter 481: He Looks Sick

    Chapter 481: He Looks Sick


    When they saw Viserys and heard his voice, everyone present stood up to show their respect.


    Rhaenys and Rhaenyra rose from their seats, both looking at their cousin and father with surprise. Viserys''s appearance, dragging his heavy body, was indeed unexpected by most.


    "Father, you sit here," Rhaegar said, helping Viserys to his feet and leading him around the long table to the empty seat between Rhaenys and Rhaenyra. That was the main seat at the banquet.


    "No need," Viserys said, shaking his head with a smile. "I prefer this position." He then motioned for Aegon and Aemond to move aside, taking a seat on the other side of the long table. Once seated, Corlys was on his left, looking surprised, and Hena was on his right, holding her nephew.


    Aegon and Aemond exchanged nces, abandoning their original n to sit there, and instead sat down next to little Daeron, bypassing Hena.


    Seeing this, Rhaegar felt a strange emotion and whispered, "Father, you haven''t seen Aunt Rhaenys in a long time, and you can still hug Baelon."


    "You sit there," Viserys insisted, exining, "I can see all of you better from here."


    Rhaegar looked around and realized that from Viserys''s position, he could indeed see everyone at the table.


    "Very well. I will tell the servants to begin the banquet," Rhaegar said, smiling, and walked over to Rhaenyra to take his seat.The father and son took their seats, and the others followed suit.


    Corlys nodded to Viserys, nced at his face, and made a judgment. The assassination attempt at Yronwood had taken its toll on the king.


    Despite this, Viserys was not saddened; instead, he smiled brightly and took Aemon from Hena''s hands to y with him.


    Daemon, sitting across the long table, kept a close eye on his brother. He noticed that despite Viserys''sbored breathing, he maintained a smile, an expression of surprise in his eyes.


    Laena sat between Daemon and Rhaenyra, with the key figures all seated on one side of the table.


    Soon, the hall filled with light music, setting a pleasant mood for the evening. The servants hurriedly served the dishes, and the long table was lit withrge white candles, dispelling the dim light.


    In this peaceful and harmonious environment, everyone became lively once again.


    Corlys toasted Viserys and briefly spoke about the fortifications of the Stepstones. With the Triarchy to the east and Dorne to the west, the Stepstones in the Narrow Sea were crucial.


    Viserys smiled. "Aegon is a good boy. He will take care of the Stepstones for his brother."


    "I hope so," Corlys replied, ncing at Aegon, who was drinking non-stop, a hint of contempt shing in his eyes.


    On the other side, Rhaegar took Baelon, who was kicking his legs about, and smiled. His father''s temporary presence would be a great help at tonight''s banquet, like a towering tree supporting the realm.


    Rhaenyra rubbed her aching wrist and whispered, "Is anyone still missing?"


    "Who are you talking about?" Rhaegar asked, his eyes narrowing in a smile.


    Rhaenyra red. "Alicent!"


    Scandals in the royal family were not to be made public. Alicent was still the queen, and it would be very rude not to attend the dinner.


    "Mm-hmm," Rhaegar said softly.


    Rhaenyra was puzzled, a hint of suspicion shing in her brilliant purple eyes.


    Something''s fishy!


    Creak��


    The door opened again, and the music picked up speed.


    Rhaenyra nced back.


    Alicent walked into the hall, her head bowed in silence. Her eyes were red, and she looked as if she had just cried. She wore a red dress, a rarity for her, and appeared haggard.


    Rhaenyra gave her a strange look and nced sideways at the corridor behind Alicent. Two red-armored guards walked past, escorting a limping Otto between them.


    Rhaegar leaned over to Rhaenyra''s ear and whispered, "Otto is exiled to Myr to reim the wastnd. Before he left, he gave Alicent a reminder to keep her in line."


    Alicent would be rtively easy to control. Without Otto''s influence and the bonds of family, she would behave herself. It all depended on whether or not his father was willing to change her punishment.


    Otto, however, was easier to deal with. The Oldtown faction was dispersed, and House Hightower had lost a lot of prestige. Exiled to Myr, Otto would spend the rest of his life cultivating the wastnd for the kingdom, a task he was already familiar with.


    With Alicent''s appearance, the atmosphere at the dinner subtly changed. Aemond''s eyes widened in shock, and he almost stood up, unable to believe that his mother would actually attend the dinner.


    "Mother!" Young Daeron, still a child, called out affectionately and rushed to Alicent like a swallow returning to its nest. Aegon only nced up, then dropped his half-full wine ss. Hena''s eyes sparkled as she looked at Rhaegar and raised the corners of her mouth.


    "Mother, I missed you so much," little Daeron cried, holding Alicent''s legs.


    He had always stayed by his mother''s side, and Alicent''s sudden confinement had especially hurt him.


    "Don''t cry, Mother will have more time to spend with you in the future," Alicent forced a smile, though the sadness in her eyes was hard to hide.


    Judging from what had happened to her father Otto, it seemed unlikely that she would escape her dark room in the future. She feared her youngest son would not be treated as he should be.


    "Mom, you sit with me," little Daeron wiped his tears and pulled Alicent to his seat. Rhaena gave up her seat and looked shyly at the mother and son.


    "No," Alicent shook her head, taking little Daeron''s hand and walking toward Viserys, who was watching silently. Viserys looked at her with a silent expression, aplex look in his eyes. This was his wife, although she often thought and acted irrationally.


    Alicent saw Viserys sitting alone in a corner, where there was room for an extra chair, and said hesitantly, "Are you okay?" It wasn''t really a question, just a simple greeting.


    "Not bad," Viserys replied, looking away, his heart heavy. He called out to the servant, "Bring a chair for the queen."


    The servant moved quickly. Alicent coaxed little Daeron back to his seat, then sat down and set the table for Viserys as she was used to doing. She lowered her head and said nothing. The couple looked left and right, as if they were strangers.


    Rhaenyra, ring at the scene, whispered unhappily, "Why don''t we just lock her in the tower?"


    "Alicent will be a problem again once she recovers," she added.


    Rhaegar nodded slightly but said, "Father needs someone to take care of him, and no one is more suitable than Alicent."


    They had been married for more than ten years and had raised children together. It was impossible to say that Viserys had no real feelings for her. Having Alicent back by his side would be more effective than a hundred Maesters and squires. His father had made sacrifices for him, and he would reciprocate.


    The little episode soon passed. The cheerful tune ended, reced by a more melodious piece suitable for a dinner party.


    Corlys took a bite of the roast, his eyes growing deeper. He hadn''t forgotten the purpose of the evening.


    ng!


    The knife and fork ttered onto the table as Corlys wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, breaking the silence. "Your Grace, I have a question to ask."


    Viserys, enjoying Alicent��s attentive service, was slightly startled but managed a smile. "Tonight is a family dinner. We are all family here, so you can tell you anything."


    He knew what wasing.


    As expected, Corlys��s gaze swept over Daemon and Rhaegar, his words sharp. "Dorne has not yet submitted, and House Vryon has sacrificed everything for this. I even lost my eldest son. Why is the Iron Throne negotiating peace at this time?"


    He summarized the situation, thenined bitterly, and finally questioned the decision.


    Viserys frowned. "Lord Corlys, peace is a good thing for the country and the people. The realm needs to recuperate."


    "What about the bnce of power with the rebellious forces in Dorne that have yet to surrender?" Corlys pressed.


    Viserys shook his head. "Block all the passages to Dorne, and with the help of Prince Qyle, it won''t be a problem."


    Sunspear was in Targaryen hands; the overall situation was already decided.


    Dissatisfied with the king''s evasions, Corlys raised his voice. "Your Grace, I lost my only son in this war. If the conquest of Dorne is ended hastily, I cannot ept it."


    "Are you threatening me?" Viserys''s smile vanished. Though weak, he was not easily intimidated. "Lord Corlys, the Targaryens started this war, and the Targaryens will end it."


    Don''t think you''re still the Sea Snake of ten years ago just because of your power and position.


    Corlys, frustrated, shouted, "I lost my eldest son. Shouldn''t the kingdom give me a reasonable exnation?"


    Rhaegar watched quietly, feeding Baelon a spoonful of goat''s milk. Someone will speak for him.


    Daemon leaned back in his chair, his head tilted to one side, and mocked, "Laenor''s lover killed him. You should go find that guy."


    "Daemon, you have no say here!" Corlys was furious and shouted at him.


    Daemon, unperturbed, smirked. He deliberately spoke in a slow, drawn-out voice. "This is my brother''s kingdom, and there is always a ce for me in his castle."


    Viserys nced at him but said nothing.


    "You should behave yourself," Laena warned, pulling her husband''s hand under the table.


    Daemon ignored her, shaking off her hand, his eyes dangerous. "You don''t want to give up the war. Are you nning to die with Dorne?"


    His eyes bored into Corlys, daring him to respond.


    Aegon, watching the show, couldn''t help butugh. "Haha!"


    Corlys''s face instantly turned cold, ring at Aegon.


    Aegon, feeling aggrieved, was silenced by Hena''s dead fish-eyed re, signaling him to shut up. Aemond quickly poured him a drink and pushed it to his mouth.


    ''Don''t act like a fool when Mom is finally out.''


    Corlys snorted, dismissing the brat, and spoke solemnly. "I lost my heir on the battlefield and the future Lord of Driftmark. Can no one give me an exnation?"


    He looked pointedly at Viserys and Rhaegar, repeatedly emphasizing the issue of the heir. The royal family must give him a reasonable solution.


    Viserys said nothing.


    Rhaegar, scooping up another spoonful of goat''s milk for Baelon, remained silent. The Sea Snake''s intentions were clear. But you can''t always get what you want. You only get what you want if I give it to you, and you can''t use coercion.


    Tonight, I will take care of you, Sea Snake and break House Vryon''s back!

 Chapter 482: Viserys: I’ll Just Step Down!

    Chapter 482: Viserys: I��ll Just Step Down!


    Seeing that neither Rhaegar nor Viserys responded, Corlys sensed something was amiss, and his anger grew. He had shed blood for the realm and lost his firstborn son to the Targaryens cause. Their silence stung. Do they despise House Vryon?


    In Westeros and on the continent of Essos, pride is always the greatest enemy of the nobility.


    Just as Corlys was about to press further, Daemon spoke up again, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "What do you want an exnation for? To tear up the peace terms and reignite the war?"


    Does House Vryon have the right or the strength to do so?


    Corlys red at him, his expression darkening. "Daemon, if you dare challenge my authority again, I won''t care about our old friendship."


    Daemon looked ready to retort, but Laena''s voice cut through the tension. "Daemon!"


    Her eyes were brimming with anger. Daemon and his wife exchanged a look, and Daemon reluctantly fell silent. Laena, pained, raised a ss of wine to her father and drank it down. Daemon''s disrespect for her father felt like disrespect toward her as well.


    Viserys, observing the exchange, felt puzzled. What is Daemon up to now?


    Ignoring his daughter''s apology, Corlys focused on Viserys, his voice deep and resolute. "Your Grace, I want to know your stance."His words wereced with coercion. If he did not receive a satisfactory answer tonight, he would have to reconsider the rtionship between the two houses. He would resign as Master of Ships and withdraw Vryon''s fleet. He couldn''t control Daemon, but he wouldn''t allow his wife Rhaenys and daughter Laena to serve the Iron Throne on dragonback again. This would prove the indispensability of House Vryon.


    Viserys frowned, clearly displeased. "Sacrifice is part of war. Even I nearly lost my life, and one my children paid for it an eye."


    "Compensation is also part of war!" Corlys''s eyes burned with determination.


    Rhaegar, having finished his half bowl of goat''s milk, put Baelon to sleep with a little milk. He gave a subtle wink.


    Aegon, catching the signal, slowly got up with a light cough.


    Rhaenyra and Alicent both looked at the boy, their eyes filled with surprise.


    What is this kid up to?


    Aegon pushed his chair back, walked around the table to Corlys and Rhaenys, and tugged on Hena''s hair.


    Hena:...


    Aemond red at him, thinking, This guy is really sick.


    ��Ahem.��


    Aegon licked his lips, bent down, and toasted Rhaenys with a ss of wine, whispering, ��Aunt, I am very sorry about what happened to cousin Laenor. I hope you recover soon.��


    Rhaenys nced at him and replied politely, ��Thank you. I will.��


    ��Hmph!�� Corlys snorted, clearly unimpressed.


    He could see through Aegon''s insincerity.


    Aegon turned to Corlys, a gleam in his eye. He poured another ss of wine, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.


    Leaning in slightly, Aegon whispered, ��Lord Corlys, I''m sorry for your loss of your eldest son.��


    Corlys straightened his cor and ignored him.


    Undeterred, Aegon stole a nce at Rhaenys, ensuring she wasn��t paying attention, and leaned closer to Corlys. In a tactful tone, he said, ��If you truly regret losing your heir, why not remedy the situation yourself? Although my aunt is older, I believe you��re still in good shape.��


    Corlys froze, unable to believe what he had heard.


    Aegon continued with a lewd smile, ��Don��t worry, even if you have a bastard child, it��s not umon among the nobles.��


    Bang!


    Corlys exploded like a firecracker. He stood up, his eyes filled with rage, ring with murderous intent.


    He promised himself that the second son of the king, who had no filter, would pay the price.


    The table was mmed so hard that it startled everyone in the room. The Ba and Rhaena sisters looked at their grandfather timidly. Hena and Aemond looked puzzled. Little Daeron, who was eating, choked and turned red.


    Only Daemon remained calm, watching the scene with interest. He was curious to see what his second nephew had said to provoke the Sea Snake''s fury.


    ��Gulp����


    Facing Corlys''s terrifying aura, Aegon subconsciously swallowed and retreated guiltily. He quickly slipped away.


    ��Aegon, what did you say?�� Alicent looked at her son in surprise, unable to understand why he would provoke Corlys.


    Rhaenys and Rhaenyra were equally surprised, their eyes darting back and forth between the two.


    Aegon shouldn��t be so foolish as to provoke Corlys. And with Corlys''s ability to control his temper, he shouldn��t be provoked by a young kid.


    At that moment, a creak echoed through the hall.


    Rhaegar handed Baelon to Rhaenyra, pushed his chair back, and stood up decisively. Corlys nced at him with a hint of coldness.


    Rhaegar met his gaze calmly, openly provoking a confrontation. It was as if he was saying, ''Come at me if you dare!''


    He was the heir to the Iron Throne, the leader of his brothers and sisters, and the strongest dragon rider of the Targaryens. If the Sea Snake had anyints, he could bring them directly to him.


    Aegon, head down, walked back to his seat, looking innocent. He had said all he needed to say.


    ��Prince, do you have anything to say?�� Corlys asked coldly, his anger barely contained.


    Rhaegar��s expression was impassive. ��Who are you talking to, Sea Snake?��


    It was a tit-for-tat negotiation, and the first to lose their temper would lose the upper hand. Corlys was asking for something and couldn��t afford to act superior. He had to understand that he couldn��t press a Targaryen without consequences. If he couldn��t figure out his ce, Rhaegar wouldn��t hesitate to treat him like a second Ormund Hightower.


    Creak��


    Daemon also stood up from his chair, grabbing Laena''s hand as he fixed Corlys with a burning gaze. His expression was like a hunter eyeing its prey.


    Corlys nced away, his eyes dark as they swept over the uncle and nephew, and he sneered inwardly. So, they were waiting for him to slip up, hoping to catch him in the act.


    For a moment, the atmosphere at the dinner party froze, and the air seemed to drop to zero. Rhaegar stood like an insurmountable wall, his gaze unyielding.


    Corlys clenched his fists. Despite his age, his tall frame still exuded the aura of a seasoned warrior. Daemon didn''t need to say anything; he was already itching to start.


    Tonight, someone would pay the price.


    Bang! Bang!


    Suddenly, a knocking sound echoed through the room. Viserys''s fingers tapped on the table, his expression solemn as he slowly and stiffly stood up.


    ��Be careful,�� Alicent, standing next to him, offered her customary reminder.


    ��Don''t worry, I''m not that fragile,�� Viserys reassured her, patting her hand on his arm. He looked at the three men standing in the room. ��I''m not dead yet, and you argue in front of an old man who is about to die?��


    He red particrly at Daemon, his tone growing harsher. ��You can''t even tolerate a dinner party? Must everything be so tense?��


    Daemon''s face fell, and he sat back down in his seat. Viserys turned to Corlys. ��Lord Corlys, you sit down too.��


    Corlys remained unmoved, his gaze unfriendly. Rhaenys nced at her husband and looked away helplessly.


    Viserys''s displeasure grew, and he almost shouted, ��Your kingmands you to sit down!��


    Corlys hesitated for a moment, weighing the pros and cons, then sat back down in his chair.


    ��Very good,�� Viserys said, taking a few breaths. He looked at his eldest son with aplicated expression, then addressed the room sincerely. ��Everyone, I know that our family has many hidden dangers and misunderstandings.��


    Alicent lowered her head in disappointment. Little Daeron noticed his mother was unhappy and said, ��Father����


    ��Don''t interrupt me!�� Viserys snapped, and his youngest son''s neck retracted, his face turning pale.


    The dinner hall fell silent, all eyes on the king.


    Viserys took a deep breath and continued, ��We are the dragons, descendants of the ancient Valyrians, and unity is the core of our strength. I hope everyone will set aside their resentments and forget the past.��


    Rhaegar remained standing, listening intently to his father��s words.


    Viserys understood Corlys��s request and said, ��Lord Corlys, I understand your request, and the Iron Throne will respond appropriately.��


    He preferred a gentle, conciliatory approach rather than his eldest son��s hard-line stance. However, he made no immediate decisions.


    Viserys''s eyes welled with tears, and he sighed, ��Look at me, I''m getting old, and I spend half the day sleeping.��


    Daemon lowered his eyes, moved by the sight of his brother��s tired face, so different from the man he remembered.


    Viserys continued with a relieved smile, ��Just as I woke up from bed tonight, I realized something.��


    ��I��m old!�� Heughed at himself. ��Of course,pared to the longevity of my grandfather, the Old King, I may still be ten years younger.��


    No one in the roomughed at his joke.


    Rhaenys, quick-witted, asked, "Viserys, what are you trying to say?"


    "Cousin, you always know what I''m thinking," Viserys replied, stopping hismentation and resuming a serious expression. "The realm needs a young, responsible and energetic king, and I am no longer qualified for the job."


    He sighed deeply, acknowledging his shorings.


    Viserys looked at his eldest son with deep love in his eyes and whispered, "I think it''s time to abdicate and pass the throne to a qualified king."


    ��Rhaegar!�� Viserys called out.


    Rhaegar, as if waking from a dream, hurriedly replied, ��Father, you����


    Viserys waved his hand, a look of reminiscence on his face. ��Don''t be in a hurry to refuse. You are my eldest son, the boy Aemma gave her life for. You deserve everything.��


    He didn��t mention Rhaegar''s intelligence, strength, or ability to control the ck dragon, nor his leadership in battle. To Viserys, Rhaegar��s status as Aemma��s firstborn son was more important than anything else. All other attributes were merely additional conditions, not the main reason.


    Finally, Viserys��s gaze swept over everyone present before returning to Rhaegar.


    Looking at the handsome face that vaguely resembled Aemma, he solemnly said, ��Rhaegar, my son, I entrust you with the Iron Throne that has hurt me the most.��


    ��Come, inherit my throne!��

 Chapter 483: Sea Snake: I Want a New Heir

    Chapter 483: Sea Snake: I Want a New Heir


    Everyone was shocked and speechless. Since the founding of the realm, there had only been deceased kings, not rulers who voluntarily abdicated.


    Viserys'' heartfelt speech was like a hammer striking the hearts of those present.


    "No!" Daemon stood abruptly, his face darkening. "I don''t agree. You are my brother and I recognize you only as king."


    If Viserys were to die of illness, he would not oppose anyone seeding him. But as long as his brother lived, he should never step down from the throne and abandon him.


    Viserys was silent for a moment before speaking with the severity of an older brother. ��Daemon, you are my younger brother, and you should support my decisions even more.��


    Daemon��s eyes were as sharp as a hawk��s, staring straight at his brother. The two brothers locked eyes, and a silent battle of wills ensued.


    Rhaegar, caught between the two, was in a state of confusion, unable to speak. He was stunned.


    When he had gone to wake his father, they had discussed nothing more than punishing the Sea Snake and making a five-year development n for King��s Landing, the Stepstones, and the Free Cities. Abdicating the throne to a wise man? It waspletely out of the question.


    Rhaegar was taken aback, his mind swirling with a storm of thoughts. "Father, are yoy abdicating?" The importance of this matter was far greater than the beginning and end of a war.��Rhaegar, Rhaegar,�� a soft whisper came from the side.


    Rhaegar snapped out of his internal conflict and looked down. Rhaenyra looked nervous, quietly tugging at his sleeve, hurriedly reminding him, ��You have to say something.��


    Rhaegar was taken aback. Rhaenyra''s eyes widened and she whispered in a tone of frustration, "Don''t let your father down."


    His father��s health was deteriorating, and he was no longer able to rule. Alicent, Corlys, Daemon, and other threatening figures were disorganized and unable to form an effective resistance. Taking advantage of the great achievements of the war, Rhaegar could seed to the throne, inheriting the prosperous kingdom left by his great-grandfather and father.


    Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed as he stared at Rhaenyra, as he had when they were children. His gaze then moved down to Baelon, who was fast asleep. The little one was sleeping soundly, looking very cute, like a little animal clinging to him.


    Rhaegar took a deep breath, and images of his father, Rhaenyra, and the two children yed back in his mind. He suddenly felt at ease. A thought shed through his mind.


    ''The time hase!''


    Viserys looked away from Daemon and asked, ��Rhaegar, tell your father what you are thinking at this moment.��


    Daemon''s eyes darkened, and his grip tightened around his wine cup, his knuckles turning white. The sudden news was hard to ept. When he was young, his brother refused to even consider him as the heir. Now, in his middle years, he wanted to pass the throne to his nephew. Jealousy had made him unrecognizable.


    Corlys, Rhaenys, and the others were all stunned into silence. The king abdicating and naming his heir was unprecedented in over a hundred years since the Targaryen dynasty was founded. This was no small matter.


    Alicent lowered her head, her eyes tightly closed, silently praying to the Seven. Her slightly trembling body betrayed her fear.


    ��Father, I agree!�� Facing his father''s direct question, Rhaegar found his voice. He spoke with force and conviction. ��If you are tired of sitting on that Iron Throne, I will take your ce. I promise that the Targaryen dynasty will usher in a new era of dragons!��


    His words were spoken with a steely gaze, like a sharp sword.


    ��Good!�� Viserys eximed, his frail body trembling with excitement. ��My boy, the Iron Throne is yours.��


    To upy new territory, restore peace to the kingdom, and see his eldest son ascend the throne��these were the aplishments that would make Viserys��s life worthy of his youth.


    Bang!


    The wine ss smashed heavily on the table, sending the dinner tes jumping. Daemon''s face darkened, and without regard for etiquette, he turned and stormed out of the room. It wasn''t anger or jealousy driving him��it was the feeling of being perpetually excluded from his brother''s ns, never considered a true part of the family.


    ��Daemon, stop!��


    He had only taken a few steps when Viserys''s weak voice called out from behind.


    Daemon halted, looked back at his anxious brother, and said, ��You have the world''s best heir. What else do you want from me?��


    ��You bastard, do you want to make me die of anger!?�� Viserys shouted, his face flushing with an unnatural redness. ��You only have me as an ally at court, and everything I have given you, you��ve squandered.��


    Daemon rolled his eyes and snorted.


    Viserys continued, exasperated, ��I''m abdicating, but do you still want to be spoiled and act like a child forever?��


    Daemon''s expression changed slightly, and his inner defenses began to waver.


    Viserys sighed deeply. ��Rhaegar is my eldest son. His abilities are obvious to all. You are his uncle and his most capable assistant.�� He looked Daemon in the eyes, advising earnestly, ��Brother, don��t make me teach you how to treat a king again.��


    With Viserys stepping back from power, Daemon would bepletely alone. No one would protect a wayward, reckless man anymore.


    The words hit home, and Daemon, unusually quiet, stubbornly turned his head to the side. His heart pounded, and his fingers, skilled at drawing a bow and wielding a sword, twitched slightly.


    Thest time he had a heated argument with Viserys was the night after his nephew was born. He had mocked his nephew as the ��One Day Heir�� at a brothel in Flea Bottom. Otto''s spies had discovered the incident and reported it to a grief-stricken Viserys. Daemon was scolded severely and nearly had his tongue cut out.


    This time, it was also because of his nephew that they were at odds. Daemon''s mind raced with retorts, but none could be spoken. Thest time, he had called Viserys a weakling, a man drained by the leeches of the Small Council. He was then banished from King''s Landing for the first time.


    This time, Daemon chose to remain silent. He wasn''t afraid of Viserys; he knew his brother wouldn''t be so cruel as to strike him. But he couldn��t refute the truth: Viserys��s decision was not wrong, and his nephew was indeed capable.


    He just...


    Daemon lowered his eyes and nced sideways at the younger Rhaegar, a flicker of jealousy in his indifferent gaze. Viserys could never trust him the way he trusted his nephew. He felt out of ce at this dinner, in the Red Keep, like an outsider forced to fit in.


    Daemon locked eyes with Rhaegar, who returned his gaze steadily. Rhaegar��s long hair fell over his shoulders, and his eyes seemed to look into Daemon��s very soul. He remained silent, neither advising Daemon norforting his father. This was a quarrel between the older generation, and it was not his ce to intervene. Every word he said could affect the brothers'' rtionship.


    Like everyone else there, he chose to remain silent.


    ��Daemon!�� Viserysmanded, his voice almost an order. ��Sit back in your seat and don''t make me say it again.��


    Laena quickly looked at her husband, her eyes filled with concern. She didn''t want him to anger the king and be banished from the royal family again. Daemon, however, paid no attention to his wife''s plea. What he was about to do could not be influenced by others.


    Viserys shouted angrily, "Do not influence him! Let him decide for himself whether to stay or go!"


    Before he abdicated, he needed to see Daemon''s resolve.


    Tapping, tapping...


    The sound of footsteps echoed, followed by a thud on the ground. Daemon''s face contorted, he turned and took three steps back to his chair. He sat down heavily, the chair legs making a loud squeaking sound as they rubbed against the marble floor. It was as if the scolded child was deliberately trying to make his presence known.


    "Hmph!" Viserys snorted, his stern expression rxing slightly as the anger in his mind finally cooled. At least the bastard has a conscience.


    Daemon took a sip of his drink, his face sour. He would rather have his conscience licked clean by a stray dog on the street.


    Viserys didn''t care and turned to his eldest son. "Rhaegar, don''t worry about Daemon being my brother. Use him as much as you want."


    Rhaegar was speechless. Looking around at the two middle-aged men, he was at a loss for words. Had Aegon or Aemond dared to treat him with such disrespect, they would have been on the ground by now, teeth smashed, begging for mercy. Of course, his father was not a skilled fighter. He was simply asking, in a different way, that his good uncle not be harmed at will.


    ��Pfft!��


    Daemon caught the deeper meaning behind Viserys''s words and sneered in disdain.


    Rhaegar''s forehead creased, but he said nothing more than, ��Yes, Father.��


    I will not hesitate.


    ��Good boy,�� Viserys said, satisfied. His face took on a healthier color as he changed the subject, turning his attention to Corlys, who watched the proceedings with amusement.


    ��While I am still in power, you can make any request you want,�� Viserys said sincerely.


    He knew he was not a particrly good king, and the honor and shame of the realm dependedrgely on the political legacy of his grandfather, King Jaehaerys. He had benefited from the dividends of his predecessors and wanted to leave his eldest son with more invisible wealth.


    The Small Council was capable and could share the king''s burden, but they couldn''t be everywhere. The kingdom had newly acquired territories: the Stepstones, the Disputed Lands, and the Dorne region. Daemon and the Sea Snake were important to ruling the Narrow Sea territories.


    Rhaegar was ruthless, which made it difficult for him to tolerate Daemon and Corlys. Viserys had to put aside his prejudices and win them over personally.


    Corlys, suppressing his emotions, showed his true skills. "Your Grace, your honesty touches my heart. Forgive me for speaking so openly."


    Viserys waved his hand and smiled. "My court has always encouraged its advisors to speak their minds."


    Corlys nodded in agreement. "I have lost an heir, and Driftmark has no lord to seed me. I demand that the royal familypensate me with a new heir."


    Rhaegar and Viserys exchanged nces, both surprised.


    How can this bepensated?


    Rhaenys, slow to realize, fixed her eyes on the Sea Snake.


    Where could the royal family find a new heir?


    Unless Corlys had other candidates in mind.


    As the thought crossed her mind, even a confident woman like Rhaenys began to suspect him.


    The children didn��t understand, but the Lords looked at Rhaenys in a way that made her feel uneasy. Especially Daemon.


    His face suddenly brightened, and after staring at the Sea Snake in surprise, his eyes gradually became yful.


    They have something up their sleeve!

 Chapter 484: Daemon Wants a Third Child

    Chapter 484: Daemon Wants a Third Child


    ��Cough, cough, let me make myself clear,�� Corlys began, flushing as he coughed to hide his embarrassment. He couldn''t help but feel guilty under his wife''s piercing gaze. A thought that had just popped into his head was immediately extinguished.


    Rhaegar exchanged puzzled nces with his father. What��s going on?


    Viserys returned a slightly reassuring look and asked carefully, ��Lord Corlys, please state your conditions.��


    But he thought to himself, Could it be that the other party is so blind as to fancy his two adorable grandchildren? Don��t even think about it!


    ��Your Grace, you need not worry,�� Corlys exined, turning his gaze to Daemon, who watched the scene with a smirk on his face. ��Daemon married my daughter and she gives birth to children with Vryon blood. I ask Your Grace to be so kind as to give me one of the children of my deceased son, Ser Laenor, as a foster daughter.��


    Laenor had been a knight before his death, and was therefore qualified to adopt a noble child.


    Viserys was relieved to hear this. It was Daemon��s children that Corlys wanted. It was not umon for a nobleman to adopt his nephews as his own.


    Rhaegar''s spirit lifted, and he and Rhaenyra turned their sights on Daemon. If he remembered correctly, his good uncle had once made a serious threat. Daemon had vowed never to give up any of his children to be adopted by others.


    Sure enough, Daemon''s face turned ck in an instant, even more so than when he first sat down. Being in the spotlight was not a good feeling.He nced at Laena and then looked at the Sea Snake with a gloomy expression. That old bastard still hasn��t given up on his daughter.


    When Laenor was alive, he couldn��t even share a room with his new wife, yet he was eyeing Daemon��s two daughters. Now that Laenor had been killed, he was still eyeing them.


    Damn him!


    Daemon��s dark thoughts began to wonder if he should pick a time to let his father-inw die of illness.


    ng!


    A knife fell with a crisp sound.


    Ba and Rhaena, sitting at the side of the long table, were stunned to hear their grandfather demand that they be adopted.


    Ba eximed in surprise, "What?"


    Her young mind struggled toprehend the full implications of the conversation.


    Rhaena, dropping her knife onto her porcin te, looked around nervously. Unlike her confident and strong sister, she was naturally meek.


    Like Moondancer, and Morning the young dragon who was slow to develop, they were still too young.


    "Don''t be afraid," little Daeron said, taking her hand and patting it reassuringly.


    Rhaena didn''t respond, but picked up her knife again and continued cutting her meat with trembling hands.


    Viserys, watching the scene, said with a helpless look, "I''m sorry, they are Daemon''s daughters. I can''t make a decision without their parents'' consent."


    If the Sea Snake had asked to adopt Daemon as his son, Viserys might have considered it before refusing. But adopting his nieces was a different matter.


    "Your Grace, if you support me, I will negotiate with Daemon," Corlys said, turning his attention to Daemon. "Ba or Rhaena could be adopted by thete Laenor. She would inherit the title of Lord of the Tides and Driftmark, and she would not be mistreated."


    Throughout the continent of Westeros, House Vryon of Driftmark was known for its power, wealth, and formidable fleet. These were not unattainable luxuries for the nobles.


    "No!" Daemon sneered, refusing tly. "Do not even think of it. My children will never change their name."


    A Targaryen is a Targaryen. The Dragonlord''s blood contains fire and will not change to Vryon, whose blood is as salty as the sea.


    Viserys attempted to persuade him. ��The wealth of Driftmark is famous throughout Westeros. It would be better for a girl to inherit Driftmark than to marry into a marriage of convenience when she is older.��


    Daemon snorted, unimpressed. He had ns to take Tyrosh and would surely be a prince in the future. Laena was injured and might have difficulty giving birth to a male heir. His twin daughters were his only heirs, and he couldn''t afford to lose either of them. In this era, women were far more likely to die than men.


    Corlys frowned and tried to persuade him further. ��I only want a granddaughter with Vryon blood. I will raise her with the same care and attention as I did Laenor and Laena.��


    Daemonughed bitterly. ��Do you think you raised Laenor well?��


    The eldest son of the most powerful noble family in the kingdom was impotent and preferred thepany of men. If Laenor had been a normal man, the Sea Snake wouldn''t be worrying about having an heir.


    Corlys��s face froze, clearly hit in a sore spot.


    Viserys, never a man of endless patience, snapped, ��Daemon, the dead are dead. Show some respect.��


    ��Yes,�� Daemon respondedzily, then turned to his daughters and asked, ��Have either of you thought about seeding Ser Laenor?��


    Ba immediately shook her head and said bluntly, ��I am your daughter.�� She then looked firmly at her grandfather, Sea Snake, rejecting his proposition outright.


    Corlys��s eyes darkened, but he wasn��t visibly upset. This little girl had a fiery temper, which he admired, but as Daemon��s eldest daughter, she was certainly not a candidate for adoption.


    He shifted his gaze to the other granddaughter.


    Rhaena��s face tensed, and she looked to her birth mother, Laena, and her foster mother, Rhaenyra, for help.


    ��Good girl, you have to choose for yourself,�� Laena said, her emotions mixed and conflicted.


    Rhaena, feeling helpless, had tears welling up in her eyes.


    Rhaenyra looked at the girl she had raised since childhood, feeling a sense of helplessness, and subtly reminded her, ��Follow your heart, just as Morning wants to fly into the sky.��


    ording to the Dragon��s Code, Laenor��s children would no longer have the right to tame dragons. But as Rhaena was adopted and hatched a baby dragon herself, she wouldn��t lose her rights.


    Rhaena, smart enough to catch her foster mother��s meaning, felt a faint light of hope in her previously lost eyes.


    Corlys, having watched her intently all morning, smiled kindly and said in a low voice, ��Rhaena, if you are willing to carry on your uncle��s line, the future of Driftmark will be yours.��


    He added, "If you are worried that Daemon will not like it and you will continue to live with Rhaenyra, you are still a member of the royal family."


    Rhaena looked shy and unsure, not knowing how to refuse. She nced at her indifferent father and silent mother, and her heart sank even deeper.


    Ba tugged at her and looked at her. Rhaena understood immediately and looked at her foster mother.


    By this time, Rhaenyra''s eyes were almost dry, signaling the little girl to pay attention to Daemon.


    Rhaena was stunned for a moment, half understanding.


    Corlys then turned to Viserys, "Your Grace, if any of the children are adopted, will you guarantee that they will not be deprived of their dragon?"


    Viserys hesitated. "Well..."


    To be fair, he didn''t want any of the Vryons to have the opportunity to ride a dragon again. ording to the rules of Westeros, adoption is a change of family. The royal family has the right to strip adopted children of their dragon-riding rights.


    Suddenly, Viserys noticed that Daemon was also looking at him. His eyes narrowed slightly as he assessed the situation.


    Viserys was familiar with that look - Daemon was weighing the pros and cons.


    Realizing this, Viserys immediately chose silence. No initiative, no refusal, no responsibility. Aplete change from his usual determined stance.


    Corlys'' eyes twitched slightly, realizing that the king''s ability to y dumb had reached a new level.


    Rhaegar watched quietly, enjoying the spectacle of intrigue.


    Interesting, very interesting! It seems that Daemon is firmly against it but is leaving the choice to his daughters. Corlys, who demanded an heir, began to pick holes in the Dragon��s Code. Father is a man who is used to acting dumb. Well, well, well, worthy of the old generation of nobles. He gave Rhaegar a hard time.


    Rhaenyra also sensed something was off and whispered, ��Is something wrong with them?��


    Although she had cared for five children in session, she still retained the innocence of a maiden.


    Rhaegar sat down and whispered, ��Watch and learn.�� He lightly stroked Rhaenyra��s fair face, feeling the familiar warmth.


    Rhaenyra blushed and looked away proudly. The first child she had taken care of was Rhaegar, and now he was not being good at all.


    ...


    The twists and turns of the evening had cast a strange gloom over the atmosphere.


    As the future king, Rhaegar watched the proceedings next to the future queen, taking the opportunity to take Aemon from Hena''s arms and hold him in his own.


    Viserys, Corlys, and Daemon all kept quiet, nning their next moves. Each sought to further their interests whileying the groundwork for the new king''s reign.


    The most ufortable of all were Rhaenys and Laena, mother and daughter. One watched her husband snatch her cousin''s child, while the other witnessed her husband stab her father in the back. Should they support their own family or their cause? Help their rtives or uphold their principles? Neither option brought them happiness.


    Suddenly, Rhaena jumped off her chair and ran to Daemon. He was leaning on the table, one hand on hisp, the other subconsciously ying with a wine ss. Rhaena took one of hisrge hands and held it in her arms, resting her little head on his arm and rubbing it affectionately.


    She didn''t want her father to be angry, and she didn''t want to refuse her grandfather''s request. Uncle Laenor was very pitiful. And Driftmark was big and beautiful, with Hull more lively than King''s Landing or Dragonstone.


    With a child''s mentality and the teachings of her foster mother Rhaenyra, Rhaena wanted to inherit Driftmark and be on an equal footing with her sister Ba in the future. But she was reluctant to give up her father and her current life and was afraid she would regret her choice.


    Daemon lowered his head, feeling the tender touch of his daughter''s face, and looked at her, seeing her reluctance to part with him. He asked, ��Tell your father, do you want to inherit Driftmark?��


    Rhaena didn��t dare to raise her face but nodded her head. Driftmark was great. If she inherited it, she could help her foster mother and father. Unlike now, she would be a significant figure rather than a useless little girl with a sickly little dragon.


    ��Very good,�� Daemon smiled and nodded. ��You are worthy of my blood.��


    Seeing Daemon softening, Corlys hurriedly said, ��You and Laena will have the chance to have more children in the future, and Rhaena can be adopted by Vryon. The two families can still form a marriage alliance.��


    In the unlikely event that Daemon could have a son, then the siblings could follow the family tradition and produce a child who could be adopted by Vryon. By exploiting the loopholes in the Dragon Code, House Vryon would ensure the right to tame dragons would be passed down for at least two generations.


    Daemon pondered this in silence. He had married Laena, the only daughter of the Sea Snake, and Rhaena could be adopted by House Vryon to be a female Lord. If the grandchildren had children, they could control House Vryon''s power.


    Why not? As he thought about it, Daemon nced at Laena, as if considering having a third child. Laena turned her head away, not wanting to look at him.


    The two families were deep in their schemes.


    Viserys kept a close eye on Daemon''s micro-expressions, trying to guess what his brother was thinking. The royal family could strip Rhaena of her dragon-riding rights after the adoption, but there was no need.


    Viserys nced at his youngest son, who was chewing on a pig''s foot, and smiled. ��The only suitable male heir in the royal family who has not yet been betrothed is Daeron. If Rhaena is adopted, the Targaryens and the Vryons can be united in marriage once again.��

 Chapter 485: Dragon Horn

    Chapter 485: Dragon Horn


    ��Huh?�� Little Daeron was shocked. His oily fingers pointed at himself, innocently asking, ��Me?��


    ��Pfft!�� Baughed out loud, clearly enjoying the moment.


    Rhaena blushed, clinging to her father��s arm and huddling up shyly.


    The three childrenughed and yed, gradually getting to know each other better.


    The Lords reacted in different ways.


    Laena smiled gently, quietly observing little Daeron��s expression and stroking her daughter��s cheek. A marriage to the royal family would be a significant bond connecting the three parties.


    Daemon��s face flushed, and he forced a smile. ��My child hasn��t even made a decision yet, and you��re already making ns.��


    Little Daeron shrank his neck and put down his pig��s trotters, feeling the weight of an unavoidable situation.


    Viserys was delighted. ��If you are willing to give up your session, I will negotiate with Lord Corlys.��Corlys said earnestly, "The three children grew up together, so they are verypatible in both sentiment and status."


    At first nce, it seemed like a harmonious family.


    Daemon wanted to scold them for their presumption, but he decided to hold back. After careful consideration, he chose to be patient.


    The situation improved and Corlys'' mood lifted. He even took a sip of wine tofort himself. Vryon had no shortage of heirs with the blood of the merman king, but he wanted one with dragon blood, preferably one who could forge a closer rtionship with the royal family. For decades toe, under Rhaegar''s reign, Vryon would enjoy the honor of being second only to the royal family.


    Conversely, the royal familycked a fleet that could sail the seas, and it was essential to win over House Vryon. The Dragonlords and the sea families had been perfect partners since the time of the Free Cities. Otherwise, their ancestors would not have risked following the exiled Aenar to Westeros.


    After a brief moment of thought, Daemon made up his mind and rubbed Rhaena��s head, reluctantly saying, ��Adoption is fine, but she must be raised by Rhaenyra until shees of age.��


    It was inevitable that his daughter would marry one day. Marrying her to the youngest son of his brother would be a good match. The only condition was that she be raised in the royal family and have a Targaryen heart.


    Corlys frowned slightly at the news, obviously not very happy about it. If she is adopted, she should be raised on Driftmark. Otherwise, just changing her surname, who knows what she��s thinking? If she is an ungrateful wretch, his Sea Snake will be eaten by his son-inw, and the family line will be extinguished.


    Daemon looked at him with a fierce gaze, not afraid to meet his eyes. His first wife, Lady Rhea of Runestone, had been an arrangement made by Queen Alysanne, his grandmother. There was no shortage of people who wanted him to use his offspring to seize Runestone. But he didn��t like that Bronze woman, and she was wary of him.


    However, the Sea Snake was now in trouble and hade to him for help. His true nature had already fallen to the lower ss.


    Viserys looked around and gave Rhaenyra, who was watching the proceedings, a subtle wink.


    Rhaenyra was taken aback for a moment but quicklyposed herself. She rose and said, ��I am Rhaena''s foster mother. She will live with me to learn the court''s etiquette better.��


    Both Corlys and Daemon were surprised. The mention of court etiquette was just a pretext. Rhaenyra, as the Princess of Dragonstone and future Queen, was in a better position to raise Rhaena than Driftmark or Tyrosh. With Rhaenyra, Rhaena would be guaranteed a higher status and fewer obstacles.


    Daemon had to admit that the offer was tempting. It had been decided long ago that Rhaena would be raised by Rhaenyra.


    While the men hesitated, the women took action.


    Rhaenys stood up gracefully, ced a hand on her husband''s shoulder, and asserted, ��Rhaenyra is the foster mother of both girls. It goes without saying where they will be raised.��


    Laena agreed wholeheartedly, ��The children will grow up with Rhaenyra and form a deep bond with the newborns from a young age.��


    Bang! The wine ss hit the table lightly as Rhaegar finally spoke, ��Agreed.��


    The bloodline of ancient Valyria had returned to the continent of Essos. With Aegon and Aemond in charge, the Sea Snake and Daemon were indispensable. But...


    Daemon nced at his nephew and saw the smile on his face, narrowing his eyes involuntarily. He thought to himself, ''I should have beated my nephew when he''s young.''


    Rhaenyra had taken good care of Rhaegar, but he had never had a full childhood.


    With no objections, the matter was settled.


    Ba and Rhaena were delighted. They cheered, ��Princess!�� and ran to Rhaenyra, their faces beaming with joy. One of them took Baelon, who was fast asleep, in her arms, while the other took Aemon, who was being naughty, and they volunteered to help care for the babies.


    Rhaenyra was also very happy, stroking the two little girls she had raised alongside the twins, a slight smile on her lips.


    Corlys watched silently, giving up on his unrealistic demands. Raising the girls with Rhaenyra was eptable, as long as they maintained a heart that protected House Vryon. Rhaena had half of Vryon''s blood in her veins. Blood is blood, he thought, believing the matter to be settled.


    However, it was not yet enough.


    Rhaegar smiled and said, ��Rhaena is the daughter of Daemon and hatched the young dragon Morning. It would be wrong to deprive her of her right to ride her own dragons.��


    ��But the Dragon Code cannot be tarnished. There can be no loopholes.��


    Corlys��s face changed slightly, and he said anxiously, ��Prince, what do you mean by that?�� If they strictly followed the Dragon Code, his little n would be doomed.


    Viserys and Daemon looked at him simultaneously, their eyes full of surprise and a hint of doubt. It was a bit inappropriate to bring up the Dragon Code at this time. House Vryon should not have been holding the dragon in the first ce.


    Rhaegar ignored all the stares and said frankly, ��Rhaena is the adopted daughter of Rhaenyra. She changed her surname after being adopted and will be married to Daeron, thus bing part of the Targaryen royal family.��


    ��So Morning still belongs to her.��


    Hearing this, Corlys''s eyes shed, and he let out a sigh of relief.


    Then Rhaegar continued, "Daeron and Rhaena''s second child after marriage can be adopted by House Vryon, but since Rhaena has already been shown leniency, the adopted child''s cradle can no longer contain dragon eggs."


    Some traditions cannot be bent. Rhaena, as one of us, can have dragons. But the next generation cannot.


    Corlys frowned, understanding the implications. Viserys and Daemon, on the other hand, looked pensive. Rhaena is Daemon''s daughter, so she has the right to tame dragons. By taking Laenor''s name, she would automatically lose that right.


    Rhaegar retained Rhaena''s rights to maintain the alliance between the Sea Snakes and Daemon. Rhaena would still be a member of the royal family, marrying Daeron. However, the two adopted children could not continue the dragon-taming rights from their mother Rhaena in ordance with the Dragon Code since they would only be Vryons.


    At first nce, it seems cruel to take the highest honor away from a newborn. Rhaegar could only say that changing families was a veryplicated matter. To protect the rights of the royal family, sacrifices are inevitable.


    "I agree!" Daemon was the first to speak, everyone looked at him.


    He took a sip of wine with a calm expression on his face. He was only concerned with the rights of his own children. And the children of his children? That wasn''t his business. Children and grandchildren will take care of themselves. He had no interest in fighting for a grandchild who didn''t even exist.


    Viserys also said, ��It��s reasonable. Rhaena is the royal family��s expection, and she shouldn��t expect more.��


    Corlys was saddened and knew he could not argue. He had already made a fortune by being so bold as to demand Rhaena.


    On second thought, the immediate territory of the royal family extends beyond the Narrow Sea, and House Vryon, also a descendant of Valyria, is an indispensable link. If the descendants are worthy, they can marry back into the royal family. Though the Targaryens had a special family tradition, it was impossible for every generation of male and female heirs to be married internally. He won Rhaenys''s favor with his charm, after all.


    So he dly epted.


    ...


    The moon hung high in the sky, surrounded by a tapestry of twinkling stars.


    Late that night, the dinner party finally came to an end.


    As a result of the sessful negotiations at the table, the three parties had forged a strong alliance for the time being. Peace terms with Braavos, the strengthening of the Stepstones garrison, and the resumption of trade with the Free Cities had all been agreed upon.


    With these key points secured, the royal family-led alliance was poised to rapidly expand its military and political power. This wouldy the foundation for the Targaryens'' strategy of invasion, colonization, and expansion.


    ��The envoy from Braavos will leave tomorrow. See the Sea Snakes off properly,�� Rhaegar instructed, yawning as he walked alone down the corridor to his chambers. He was exhausted after the day��s work. The war was over, negotiations had been sessfully concluded, and yet, his father��s sudden decision to abdicate weighed heavily on his mind.


    "What a life of work! I can''t rest for a moment," he thought.


    Back in his bedroom, Rhaegar stripped off his clothes and threw himself onto the soft goose-down bed. Rhaenyra was not there; Ba and Rhaena, upset by the day''s events, had insisted on sleeping with their foster mother and the two babies. Little Daeron, eager to join in the fun, had been unceremoniously grabbed by the cor and handed over to Ser Erryk. The seven-year-old boy was no match for the spirited four-year-old Ba, much to the embarrassment of the Targaryens.


    Rhaenyra had conceived in April and given birth in August. The twins were born in mid-December, and their nameday celebration was approaching. It was now the year 122 AC, and Rhaegar was a year older. The 17-year-old heir prince was soon to be promoted to the role of a true Dragonlord.


    "I''m so tired," Rhaegar murmured, closing his eyes. He snapped his fingers.


    Pop!


    The firece ignited, and the scent of incense wood filled the room, dispersing the dampness. Rhaegar, drowsy, gradually fell asleep. Just before he drifted off, a thought crossed his mind: King''s Landing, adjacent to ckwater Bay, typically experienced snowfall and freezing temperatures in winter. It was already January, yet not a single snowke had fallen, and the temperature remained unusually warm.


    ��The climate is pleasant. The people can enjoy a good winter,�� Rhaegar thought.


    Pop!


    As he fell asleep, the mes in the firece flickered and danced seductively. In his dreams, he found himself in a familiar, misty fog on a bloody battlefield. Wearing ck Valyrian steel armor, he held Truefyre and Dragonw in each hand. A scarlet cloak hung behind him, rustling in the wind like the blood of a thousand lives.


    Crackling��


    Suddenly, a thunderp resounded, and red lightning streaked across the chaotic sky. Fog obscured his vision as light rain began to fall, washing away the broken limbs and bones on the ground.


    Rhaegar took a step, his boot sinking into the mud, creating a small puddle. Rainwater and blood mixed together, forming a small stream that sshed a bit of water onto his cheek. He felt a chill, as clear as the coolness of the water.


    ��Where am I?�� he wondered aloud. The scene looked eerily familiar, reminiscent of the dreamlikendscape he dreamed in the Starry Sept.


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, a high-pitched roar echoed through the fog.


    Rhaegar immediately looked up.


    A shadowy figure darted through the mist, too quick to discern.


    Rhaegar��s eyes widened, letting the rain fall on his face as he whispered, "A young dragon?"


    If he wasn��t mistaken, it seemed to be a young dragon the size of a shepherd dog. Unfortunately, the thick fog obscured his view.


    "Roar..."


    Another roar echoed through the night.


    Rhaegar reacted quickly, turning towards the sound.


    A blue shadow zipped past, splitting into different directions before disappearing into the depths of the fog.


    This time, Rhaegar saw it clearly.


    It was a young dragon with blue scales, about the size of arge dog.


    "Where did this dragone from?" Rhaegar muttered to himself.


    His first thought was Dragonstone. The nest in the Stone Drum Tower housed over a dozen dragon eggs of various ages. Silverwing and Vermithor had gone into hiding on Dragonmount, and it was possible that they had hatched a young dragon.


    Rhaegar even considered Braavos, the Smoking Sea, and Sothoryos.


    The three dragon eggs of Dreamfyre had gone missing and had not been found. ording to Syrio''s spection, they were likely in the hands of the former Sealord of Braavos, who had mysteriously died in a wildfire.


    The Smoking Sea was known to be a dragon''sir, home to the Fourteen mes. Before Morghul flew out, it was unknown if it hadid any eggs.


    Sothoryos was another possibility. The giant dragon skeleton there had always seemed mysterious.


    The cave walls were carved with symbols of evil blood sacrifices, and three dragon eggs had been discovered there. One of the eggs, dark red, had fossilized before hatching. The other two had hatched around the time of the Doom, but the young dragons likely didn��t survive.


    Rhaegar frowned, pondering the possibility of an inurate age estimation.


    He regretted not having had more time to explore Sothoryos thoroughly. He had only ventured to the northern half and the surrounding inds, not the core region or the south. There could still be dragons there.


    The appearance of these two young dragons in the fog puzzled him. Who could have predicted that the Red Comet would descend, amplifying the tide of magic? The world was brimming with magic, leading to an explosion in dragon numbers. Like Stormcloud, Tyraxes, Morning, and Moondancer, young dragons had been hatching with increasing frequency.


    Rhaegar pondered how to find these young dragons.


    Suddenly, a deep, resonant horn sounded, echoing through the foggy battlefield.


    Rhaegar listened intently. The sound was ancient, heavy, and imbued with a sense of heat.


    As the horn echoed, the fog began to change.


    "Roar!"


    Roar...


    The fog gradually dissipated, revealing two distinct dragon cries of pain cutting through the rain.


    Rhaegar squinted, and his vision shifted.


    He saw a vast sea under a dark, smoky sky. A rainy night in a ruined town, centered on a pce...


    A ruined pce of ck Dragonstone, the floor cracked and broken, with a shattered altar at the center.


    Whoo-hoo-hoo...


    A five-foot-long horn, shaped like a dragon��s horn with ck and blood-red stripes, was enshrined on the altar. Though no one was ying it, the horn echoed with an ancient melody, its dark exterior glowing with a faint red light.


    Rhaegar was momentarily stunned and recalled reading about a magical item in an ancient book.


    With a sudden inspiration, he blurted out, ��The Dragon��s Horn!��

 Chapter 486: A Cheap Deal Between Brothers

    Chapter 486: A Cheap Deal Between Brothers


    The next day, the weather was clear. Rhaegary in bed, drifting in and out of a light sleep.


    Knock, knock...


    The door was knocked on, light and orderly.


    Rhaegar woke up with a start.


    ��Shh!��


    Rhaegar''s head was spinning as he pressed his hand to his forehead, gasping. It felt like a hammer had struck him, leaving a migraine in its wake.


    He shook his head, waiting for the dizziness to subside, and muttered, ��A mist ce, a young dragon and a horn!��


    A sudden sh of inspiration cleared his mind immediately.


    Rhaegar sat up abruptly, half-believing, ��The dragon''s horn... could it be in the Smoking Sea?��Last night''s dream seemed connected to the prophetic dream at the Starry Sept. Thest time, he had a premonition that Rhaenyra would give birth prematurely. Last night, his vision expanded.


    And shrouded in mist, two young dragons without masters, and the Dragon Horn, an artifactparable to a treasure.


    Rhaegar did not dare to be negligent and took out an ancient book stored in his space ne��a dragon training manual written by a Dragonlord family.


    Flipping through the pages carefully, his hand paused at an illustration.


    ��Dragons nest in various ces. The Dragonlord will not imprison his ownpanions, or he will face severe punishment... When wares, sound the horn of the dragon to summon distantpanions. Only those of Dragonlord blood may touch it!��


    The pages were densely covered in ancient Valyrian writing, describing the existence of the dragon horn in a way that aligned with the dragon''s habits.


    Rhaegar nced over the page and stopped at the simple illustration next to the text. It depicted a giant horn, its surface engraved with minute patterns, exuding an ancient and mysterious atmosphere.


    He examined it closely, his eyelids twitching. The dragon horn in his dream was 70% simr to the illustration in the ancient book. The only difference was that the ck horn in his dream had a different pattern engraved on its surface.


    ��It really is a dragon''s horn,�� Rhaegar thought, stunned. He closed the book with a bang.


    Knock, knock...


    As he pondered the meaning ofst night''s dream, there was another knock on the door.


    Rhaegar took a deep breath, adjusted his state of mind, and said calmly, ��Come in.��


    Dreams have a reason. Since I dreamed of the dragon''s horn, I might be able to dream of its general location in the future.


    Crack!


    The door swung open, and a figure in a white dress stepped inside.


    Hena''s face was tense as she carried a covered te in her arms, her big, clear eyes darting around the room.


    She squeezed through the doorway and peered at Rhaegar in bed, trying to gauge his mood.


    She looked amusingly out of ce.


    Rhaegar smiled and waved, ��What are you looking at? Come on in.��


    In the vast Red Keep, she was perhaps the only one who found any joy.


    ��Then I''lle in.��


    Hena tiptoed into the room.


    It was modest, but the room had a full, curved, and upright back, and the door closed behind her.


    Rhaegar adjusted his long hair and nced at her.


    Hena wore a simple, slim white dress that outlined her well-proportioned body.


    The baby fat on her face had disappeared, and her freckles had faded, revealing her fair and beautifulplexion.


    Her silver-gold curls cascaded behind her head, loosely tied at the roots with a rubber band, giving her a fluffy look.


    Rhaegar smiled, thinking to himself, what azy girl.


    At 14, most noble families were already engaged or married, but she still seemed to drift through her days in a daze.


    ��Brother, I brought you breakfast.��


    Hena walked shyly to the bed, opened the lid, and presented the tray.


    ssic white bread, milk, and ham.


    Rhaegar drank the milk in one gulp, then looked up and down at Hena, who hesitated to speak, and smiled, ��If you have a request, tell me.��


    If you''re being nice to me, it must be...


    You have a favor to ask.


    He knew his sister very well, she was not lively, her thoughts were always written all over her face.


    Hena lowered her gaze, stealing nces at her brother as she whispered, "Last night, mother and father were together."


    As she spoke, she nervously tapped her index fingers together.


    Rhaegar paused, the piece of bread halfway to his mouth, struck speechless.


    He nearly choked on the milk he had just swallowed.


    Was this her idea of a joke, and at such an expensive breakfast?


    Realizing her blunder, Hena''s head drooped, her cheeks brushing against her cor as she murmured a plea, ��Brother, Father needs someone with him. Please, don��t confine Mother.��


    ��Is that why you came?�� Rhaegar surmised.


    Without hesitation, Hena nodded. ��If Mother stays locked in that dark room, she��ll lose her mind.��


    Her small hand crept to rest on hisp, her touch tentative, like a timid puppy seekingfort.


    Their mother had been confined to the dark room again just that morning.


    Her brothers, Aegon and Aemond,cked the courage to plead with Rhaegar, leaving her to bear the responsibility.


    Rhaegar sighed, recognizing the true purpose of her visit.


    He caught her gently probing hand and held it firmly, his tone serious. ��Mistakes must be punished. It is mercy enough that Alicent only in solitary confinement.��


    If not for the love of his father and siblings, he might have resolved the matter with poison.


    Hena bit her lip, her eyes pleading.


    ��No,�� Rhaegar said firmly.


    ��If you can��t ept that, you may leave now.��


    He snapped the lid back onto the breakfast tray and handed it to her.


    Hena recoiled slightly, agitated, and edged towards the goose-down mattress.


    Rhaegar''s expression darkened. ��Leave. I need to dress.��


    The pleasant atmosphere from earlier had evaporated.


    Hena nodded silently, set the tray on the round table, and walked slowly to the door.


    She muttered under her breath as she opened it.


    ��Aegon��s lying. My pleas are futile.��


    ��Believing his lies����


    With a determined look, Hena stepped out, resolving to confront the falsehoods with her Long Summer sword when she returned.


    As soon as she stepped out the door, an impatient voice rang out.


    ��Alicent must atone for her sins in the chapel. Tell someone to move her to the quiet room in the inner hall to pray, and send two holy sisters to watch over her.��


    Hena''s eyes widened with surprise.


    Without waiting for confirmation, Rhaegar barked, ��Get out!��


    ��Okay.��


    Hena, thrilled, dashed away.


    In the bedroom, Rhaegar took a bite of bread, chewing thoughtfully.


    Alicent may be a bit foolish, but at least shecks any real power.


    Father is nearing abdication and might retire to Dragonstone or Harrenhal to recuperate, where he''ll need care.


    Alicent will have to leave the Darkroom eventually, if only out of respect for Aegon and Hena.


    His siblings had been invaluable to him.


    Whether in the Narrow Sea War or the Dorne War, they had proven their worth.


    Evenst night, Aegon��s performance was heroic, taunting the Sea Snake''s reproductive abilities.


    Aegon was indeed a reliable second brother.


    ...


    It was a sunny morning.


    Rhaegar had just finished breakfast and was about to change into his regr clothes when he left the room.


    ��Prince.��


    Erryk stood at the door, dressed in silver armor and a white robe.


    Rhaegar asked with concern, ��How is your injury?��


    Erryk held his head high and said confidently, ��It''s not serious.��


    Rhaegar smiled and stepped out.


    After taking a few steps, a strange feeling tugged at his heart.


    Erryk was themander of the Kingsguard, and he wouldn��t be here without reason.


    ��Is something wrong with Father?�� Rhaegar asked.


    Erryk bowed his head and said in a low voice, ��Your Grace summoned Prince Daemon this morning, which dyed the fleet''s departure from Driftmark.��


    ��I see.��


    Rhaegar pped his forehead and sighed. ��Take me to see him.��


    Abdication was a significant event, and even the smallest detail could be debated for days.


    ''Let��s go take a look.''


    ��Yes, Your Grace,�� Erryk replied, leading the way.


    ...


    The King''s Bedroom


    "He is my child and will soon inherit my throne. You must love him as much as you love me."


    "How can you say the word ''love'' so easily?"


    ��Don��t interrupt. I��ll teach you how to be an adviser!��


    ��I admit my guilt, but I should not be punished by having to swear allegiance to a boy.��


    The bedroom, adorned with explicit wall paintings and filled with the strong scent of incense from the hand warmer, felt oppressive. Viserys panted heavily, facing Daemon, who appearedpletely unconcerned.


    ��You brat! You��re not a child anymore. Do you have to drive me to my grave?��


    ��Don��t you dare die, or the white-robed man outside the door will say Imitted kinying and stabbed the king.��


    Daemon crossed his arms and looked at his brother, who sat on the edge of the bed with a raised eyebrow and a wry smile.


    When they were younger, he had advised Viserys to exercise more and develop a strong physique. But his brother never listened, preferring banquets and tournaments instead. Now, he was paying the price.


    Viserys coughed angrily. ��Where are Rhaenys and the others? Have they left yet?��


    ��Not yet,�� Daemon replied casually.


    ��You must prepare early. My body can''t hold out for long. Rhaegar must seed to the throne as soon as possible.��


    Viserys�� breathing grewbored, and he began to speak through clenched teeth.


    Daemon couldn''t bear to watch, so he stepped forward to help him breathe more easily, whispering, ��You��re not going to die so easily. Don��t be so self-deprecating.��


    He had learned that the Smoking Sea might have a cure for his brother��s condition and had sent a scout to Tyrosh that very night, hoping for results soon.


    ��Don��t sweet-talk me. Give me something practical.��


    Viserys opened his hand and said bluntly, ��Rhaegar will meet with the emissary and see the Sea Snake off. You will help him.��


    Daemon remained silent.


    Viserys continued, unfazed by his brother''sck of response. ��I��m very pleased that Rhaena and Daeron are engaged. It��s a good way to unite our two houses.��


    ��Three parties,�� Daemon emphasized, asserting his own importance in the equation.


    ��Okay, three parties,�� Viserys conceded, as if cating a child. ��Has your daughter Ba considered an engagement with the twins?��


    Baelon, the eldest, and Aemon, the second eldest, were both excellent marriage prospects, strengthening the ties between Rhaegar and Daemon and easing any lingering animosities.


    Daemon scoffed, about to retort with something akin to ��a tiger''s daughter can''t be matched with a dog''s son,�� but Viserys interrupted his thoughts with a deep gaze that made him ufortable.


    ��Laena mentioned that your eldest son turned her down.��


    ��Is that so? What a pity,�� Viserys said, a note of disappointment in his voice.


    Daemon snorted. ��Your son is very different from you. He��s more like the Arryn bitch of the Vale, always proud and petty.��


    ��Watch your tone,�� Viserys warned, his eyes narrowing as he revealed a painful truth. ��Don��t forget the stupid thing you did once, attacking a six-year-old child, which is lower than the cheapest whore in Flea Bottom.��


    ��Huh!��


    He spat out, mimicking the act of spitting phlegm. ��Compared to you, even a whore is better.��


    Daemon took a deep breath, reminding himself repeatedly, ''This is my brother, my brother.''


    Had anyone else dared to mock him so, he would have already plunged a sword into their eye.


    Seeing that Daemon wasn''t going to respond, Viserys was about to kick him when he shouted, ��Are you listening to what I''m saying?��


    ��What?�� Daemon replied, feigning ignorance.


    Viserys roared, ��Do your duty to Rhaegar and don''t disgrace your title of Prince.��


    Daemon sneered, ��When did I ever have a title of Prince, the Prince of the City?��


    Though Tyrosh was under his control, it still belonged to the Kingdom in name. The only Targaryen to hold the title of Prince was Rhaenys, as the Master of Dragons. Neither he nor Aegon of Bloodstone had such a title.


    The only one with a formal title was Rhaenyra, Princess of Dragonstone. The rest of the Targaryens were simply called Princes and Princesses, and he was no exception.


    Sensing the discontent, Viserys coaxed, ��When Rhaegar ascends the throne, he will make you Prince of Tyrosh.��


    ��I want you to give it to me!�� Daemon turned his head, his eyes burning with intensity.


    Viserys was at a loss for words and said helplessly, ��Okay, but you have to promise to control your temper.��


    ��I have one condition.��


    ��Say it, as long as it��s not too much.��


    Daemon, straightforward as always, said, ��Laena is having trouble conceiving, so I request the right to marry more women and produce more offspring for the family.��


    Viserys was taken aback and frowned. ��Did you promise Rhaena that you would adopt her to marry more wives?��


    No wonder he agreed so readily.


    Daemon nodded, his voice blunt. ��I want a son. You made me lose a son. Do you remember?��


    In the same year that Rhaegar was born, Mysaria, the White Worm, was pregnant with his child. He had even stolen a ck dragon egg that belonged to Rhaegar, which waster retrieved by his niece Rhaenyra. Viserys ordered Mysaria to be deported to Lys. On the way, they encountered a storm at sea, and she miscarried. It was a fully developed boy.


    Daemon had always been resentful, and after failing to seduce his niece Rhaenyra, he conceived a malicious n to kill Rhaegar for his own child. Fortunately, he failed.


    Daemon��s eyes shed as he nced at his silent brother, unsure whether to feel d or sorry that he had failed.


    After a long pause, Viserys broke the silence, disappointed. ��Does Laena know you have such thoughts?��


    She was a good woman and almost became his second wife. Laena had done right by Daemon, bearing him two daughters who survived childbirth. She was pregnant and rushed to Tyrosh to support Daemon''s invasion. She lost a son and almost her life.


    Daemon said indifferently, ��She doesn��t know, and even if she did, I believe she would understand.��


    Bang!


    Viserys mmed the bed frame and gritted his teeth. "What woman could possibly understand that? You''re hopeless!"


    He had thought that Daemon was slowly learning to be a better man by helping Dorne. The facts proved he was still the same bastard.


    Daemon scoffed. "Remember, it was your son who suggested this kind of marriage. That Arryn bitch in the Vale is so pregnant that she can''t take it anymore."


    "I said watch yournguage!" Viserys was furious.


    The Vale was his wife Aemma''s family and their most loyal ally.


    Daemon snorted. Jeyne Arryn, a treacherous woman. Before his ex-wife, the Bronze Bitch, died, the two most important women in the Vale were so close they might as well have worn the same dress. If it weren''t for the existence of Jessamyn, he would have thought that the Bronze Bitch and the Arryn Bitch were a pair.


    His animosity towards Jeyne Arryn stemmed from repeated attempts to take control of Runestone City, which she thwarted every time, even expelling him from the Vale. Despite the help of Jobert Royce, the Warden of the Valley, Jeyne remained an obstacle, even seducing his niece��s husband.


    Daemon''s voice grew conflicted. ��Do you want to see my bloodline die out?��


    ��You���� Viserys was furious but couldn��t argue with that. His uncle Aemon Targaryen had only one daughter, Rhaenys. It should have been a branch of the Targaryen main line, but it was only supported by Rhaenys, who married outside the family. It existed in name only.


    Viserys gritted his teeth. ��I promise you, but only you can marry another wife.��


    ��Haha,�� Daemon smiled contentedly. He knew his brother wouldn��t refuse him.


    Viserys, even angrier, scolded, ��You still have the face tough. If the Sea Snake and Rhaenys find out about this, what will they think of you?��


    Daemon��s eyes darkened. ��You don��t need to worry about me. You should be more concerned about your eldest son. He��s a real pain in the ass.��


    Not to mention the Arryn bitch from the Vale. The silly girl born to Alicent is clearly a natural Green member, but she is hanging out with her good nephew.


    Viserys was confused. ��What?��


    ��Nothing.�� Daemon shook his head. He was not so low as to gossip behind his back.


    Let''s wait the silly girl��s belly starts to show and his brother and nephew are worried.


    Crack!


    The door opened, and Rhaegar peered through the bead curtain, curiously surveying his father and uncle.


    ��I��ll leave first,�� Daemon said arrogantly, turning to go.


    Viserys did not stop him and asked his eldest son, ��What��s the matter?��


    Rhaegar watched Daemon''s retreating figure, sensing that the two had been plotting behind his back. After a moment''s hesitation, he remembered the two young dragons in his dream and said, "I had a dream. After saying goodbye to the Sea Snake, I flew to Dragonstone to take a look around."


    There might be dragons.

 Chapter 487: A Parent’s Love for His Son Is Far-Reaching

    Chapter 487: A Parent��s Love for His Son Is Far-Reaching


    "A dream?"


    Viserys picked up on that, putting his bad mood aside.


    Rhaegar was a rare Dreamer in House Targaryen, and each of his special dreams symbolized something that intersected with reality. Viserys had long coveted such a gift and valued it highly.


    ��I dreamt that two young dragons hatched at the end of the world,�� Rhaegar said, frowning slightly as he recounted part of his dream.


    Viserys sat up straight, his face growing serious. ��Dragons on Dragonstone?��


    As thest surviving family of Dragonlords, every dragon was a treasure to House Targaryen. The loss of a dragon would be unthinkable; the problem was too serious.


    Rhaegar understood this and said softly, ��I don''t know for sure, so I''m going back to Dragonstone to investigate and find out about some missing items.��


    He slightly embellished his words, omitting details about the Smoking Sea and the Dragon''s Horn. Both were beyond the Targaryens'' knowledge and carried an inherent danger.


    ��Then hurry up and leave. Don''t miss any of the young dragons,�� Viserys urged, specifically reminding him, ��The dragons must not fall into the hands of Braavos. Never!��The nine Free Cities spread across the western continent of Essos, and Braavos was undoubtedly the most unique due to its geographical and cultural background. While dragons could fly over Braavos, its harbor was difficult for fleets to navigate, surrounded by reefs and shrouded in mist year-round. For this reason, the Dragonlords in the Free Cities had not destroyed Braavos, instead strengthening trade with the Iron Bank.


    Braavos now held a favorable geographical position and the Iron Bank was incredibly wealthy. The Targaryens had just fought a war, leaving both people and soldiers exhausted.


    Rhaegar understood this and assured, ��Don''t worry, the Morghul incident was enough for once.��


    He had a hunch that the Targaryens and Braavos would not be at war anytime soon.


    ��That''s good,�� Viserys said, slightly relieved by his eldest son''s reassurance. For the sake of a Smoking Sea dragon��Morghul��he would rather go to war with the Triarchy than lose the wild dragon. Although the result was not satisfactory, it was good that Morghul had left behind a descendant.


    Observing his father''s weakplexion, Rhaegar did not bother to say more. ��The Sea Snake and my aunt have just left the Red Keep. I''ll see them off.��


    ��Good,�� Viserys nodded, reminding him, ��Rhaenyra will be acting regent while you''re gone.��


    In his heart, his favorite daughter always had special privileges. Rhaegar readily epted and opened the bead curtain to leave.


    He had to go to Dragonstone, and the Sea Snake and Daemon were returning to Driftmark together, so they were both busy. Sea Snake and Daemon, with their formidable sea and sky forces, were a double-edged sword that needed careful handling to avoid constant worry for the royal family.


    ��Wait,�� Viserys suddenly called out, stopping his eldest son from opening the door.


    Rhaegar looked back in confusion.


    Viserys hesitated, then said slowly, ��Leave the Sea Snake and Daemon alone for now. There will be some internal changes soon, and you should stay out of it.��


    Changes? Rhaegar��s eyes shed as he tried to deduce his father''s n.


    ��Don��t guess. It has nothing to do with you,�� Viserys frowned, disliking his eldest son''s scheming. He warned, ��The coronation is being prepared, so you must not take any action against Alicent or Daemon. Did you hear me?��


    Finally, his eyes turned serious.


    Rhaegar, sensing his father''s determination, promised, ��Okay, I''ll focus on the young dragons.��


    ��Hmph, get out of here,�� Viserys snorted, waving his hand dismissively.


    Rhaegar left the room, his mind swirling with mixed emotions. He thought about Alicent''s fate and the entanglement with Daemon and the Sea Snake, realizing that his father was paving the way for his session during this period.


    ��Prince!�� Steffon, at guard, and Ser Lorent greeted him in low voices, their appearances immacte.


    Rhaegar looked at the two Kingsguard and nodded with a smile, ��You''ve worked hard.��


    ...


    As he left <em>Maegor''s</em>Holdfast, Rhaegar was stopped in the courtyard of the Red Keep. There was a tournament arena in the courtyard, surrounded by many nobles and knights watching the spectacle.


    Rhaegar was dragged to a corner and asked in surprise, ��Hena, what are you waiting for me here?��


    The two siblings stood face to face in front of the main gate of the armory. Hena, wearing a green cloak, looked serious. ��Mother is praying in the chapel. I''vee to give you something,�� she said.


    She took out a stick wrapped in ck cloth from her cloak.


    Rhaegarughed as he watched her carefully unwrap the ck cloth to reveal a long, delicate sword.


    Swish!


    Hena unsheathed the sword, and a sh of cold light apanied the sound of a clear de.


    Rhaegar''s smile faded as he took her seriously. The cross-shaped de was carved with a seven-pointed star, a symbol of the Seven Gods. The de was silvery white and translucent, with ayer of evenly rippling water covering the surface.


    ��Vignce?�� Rhaegar recognized the sword at once. ��This sword should be in the High Tower.��


    Valyrian steel long sword - Vignce, the family sword of House Hightower in Oldtown.


    Hena raised her face and said proudly, ��You like to collect old things. I wrote to Selena to discuss it. Little Lyonel sent it by horse.��


    Selena was Aegon''s betrothed and a direct cousin of Ormund and Otto. Little Lyonel had taken over as Lord of Oldtown and head of House Hightower. Both were her little followers, and a letter was gently persuasive.


    Rhaegar was impressed and asked with a smile, ��Is it for me?��


    ��Well... that might not be possible.��


    Hena''s face flushed, and she stammered, ��The Hightower family sword. The letter says it''s a loan, but I��ll have to return it after a while.��


    Her face flushed with embarrassment.


    Rhaegar smiled wickedly and pinched her cheek. ��I''m just teasing you. I''ll return the sword in a couple of days.��


    ��Oh!�� Hena was stunned for a moment. Under Rhaegar''s gaze, she covered her slightly protruding chest with her small hands, relieved.


    ��I��ll leave first.��


    Rhaegar��s gaze paused for a moment, then he decisively withdrew. Vignce in hand, it was time to run.


    In fact, when he was living in Oldtown, he wanted to use ��Vignce�� to trigger the Explorer System. Unfortunately, their rtionship was tense, and there wasn��t a good opportunity. He thought he would borrow it again when he visited Oldtown in the future.


    Hena had brought it to him, so it couldn''t have been better.


    As soon as he took the sword, the system beeped.


    ��This exploration mission has begun. The target is the Valyrian steel sword, Vignce.��


    Leaving Hena, he checked the system panel.


    Vignce


    Exploration Progress: 0.5%


    "There is already 0.5% progress in the quest. It should be an epic relic," Rhaegar muttered as he reced Truefyre with Vignce.


    Over time, he had gradually figured out the rules for exploring relics. Valyrian steel swords were rted to the material and were all within the scope of exploration. The sword itself carried historical events and time deposits, which would raise the grade of the relic. ckfyre and the Dark Sister were the highest grade. The rest of the Valyrian steel swords were slightly inferior because they had not had a good owner. Vignce, which had been passed down by House Hightower for thousands of years, was considered a very good relic.


    Rhaegar was in a hurry.


    Hena took a long time to react, tilting her head. ��Huh?��


    No hug? He just left?


    Hena pounded her head, her pupils unfocused, and muttered unconsciously, ��Who woke the sleeping giant.��


    Then she turned around and went back to her room in a daze.


    ...


    ckwater Bay


    The sea stretched as far as the eye could see, dotted with dozens ofrge ships, their distinctive seahorse gs fluttering in the wind.


    ��Grandpa, are weing back?�� Rhaena stood on the deck, looking back at Mud Gate with a downcast expression.


    The Sea Snake, standing beside her, gently stroked her petite, thin body and whispered words offort, ��We will return. Your foster mother is here. Don��t forget.��


    ��Mmm,�� Rhaena murmured, feeling her grandfather��s love. She rested her little head on hisp, still too young to stand tall beside him.


    Her grandfather, the strongest adventurer who had made nine voyages, held her close.


    "Roar!"


    Their intimate moment was interrupted by a sudden, arrogant roar.


    In King''s Landing, near the Mud Gate, a ck dragon with green eyes soared over the city walls. Its wings cast shadows across the sea as it pursued the fleet.


    "Roar!"


    Another thunderous roar ripped through the air.


    From Dragonpit, Vhagar, with clouded pupils, ran and leapt into the air with surprising agility for its age. The ancient dragon��s roar was a demonstration of its enduring power.


    Vhagar��s pupils sharpened, focusing on the ck dragon ahead. Summoning its inner strength, the old dragon��s heavy, hole-riddled wings pped vigorously, trying to increase speed.


    In no time, the two dragons, one ck and one green, were soaring towards ckwater Bay.


    Cannibal, unperturbed, cast a shadow over the entire fleet as it flew past, its tail swayingzily.


    The Sea Snake looked up, half his face hidden in the shadows, holding the still small Rhaena in his arms.


    ��It��s so big!�� Rhaena eximed softly. She nced back at the cabin, where her young dragon, Morning, was locked in a cage.


    The Sea Snake sighed, looking at her with aplex expression. ��Your dragon will grow to be this big someday.��


    Rhaena was skeptical. She measured the Cannibal��s size with her hand as it gradually disappeared, then ced her hand on her stomach and measured again. Disappointed, she said, ��My Morning is so small, only the size of a fingernailpared to my cousin��s dragon.��


    ��No, that��s not true,�� the Sea Snake smiled, stroking Rhaena��s head.


    "Roar!"


    Vhagar slowly flew in, keeping its body level with the ship, soaring up and down at a controlled speed.


    Rhaena looked up again, admiring her mother��s dragon.


    "Roar!"


    "Roar..."


    Soon, two scarlet dragon shadows shed by, overtaking old Vhagar and keeping pace with the fleet on either side.


    Thump, thump...


    The cabin door opened, and Ba dragged little Daeron along with her, both of them gazing at the dragons in amazement.


    When Ba saw the green Vhagar, she eximed, ��Look, look! It��s my mother��s Vhagar, the biggest and oldest dragon in the world.��


    As Targaryens, dragons were not creatures to be feared. However, adult dragons like Vhagar, Cannibal, and Vermithor rarely showed themselves to humans��they were too massive and powerful.


    After a few steps, little Daeron panted, shook off Ba��s hand, and pointed to the ck dragon disappearing into the distance, saying proudly, ��See that? That��s the Cannibal. After devouring Morghul, it��s grown bigger than Vhagar. It��s thergest dragon in the world now.��


    Ba was unconvinced. She pointed at Vhagar and retorted, ��Vhagar is the biggest, the godness of war!��


    ��You��re blind,�� Daeron crossed his arms. ��It��s too old. Have you ever heard of the Deathwing?��


    ��No, but I��m going to beat you up,�� Ba red at him, angrily rolling up her sleeves.


    The little girl��s character was deeply influenced by her mother and father; she never hesitated to get physical. She grabbed her ymate and started pounding him.


    Little Daeron, three years older, was no match for her. Ba chased him all over the deck.


    ��Haha, naughty kids,�� the Sea Snake smiled knowingly.


    Far away at the Mud Gate, which was about to disappear from view, a figure stood silently on the city walls, gazing across the miles of water at the departing dragons and fleet.


    They looked at each other silently, though neither could truly see the other.


    And so, they each withdrew their gaze.

 Chapter 488: Dragon Compass

    Chapter 488: Dragon Compass


    Dragonstone


    ��Prince, thank you for seeing me off. Braavos will always be your loyal ally.��


    On the beach, the messenger Baelus was moved to tears and bowed deeply.


    Rhaegar stood with his hands behind his back, smiling faintly. ��Say hello to the Sealord for me. I��ll visit Braavos when I have time.��


    ��It would be an honor,�� Bael said, his voice filled with gratitude. After bidding farewell, he reluctantly boarded the ship.


    Rhaegar watched him go, then turned his gaze to Dorys Dayne from Dorne, who stood solemnly nearby.


    ��Prince, Prince Qyle sends his regards,�� Lys said, bowing respectfully.


    With Sunspear under the control of the Iron Throne, young Qyle Martell harbored no rebellious thoughts, only a deep sense of fear and anxiety.


    Rhaegar looked around, noting the presence of several Dorne nobles behind Dorys. He waved his hand dismissively.��Prince.��


    An elderly, disheveled Dragonkeeper stepped forward, holding a huge, milky-white sword in both hands.


    Rhaegar took the sword, inspected it carefully, and said indifferently, ��Return it to its rightful owner.�� He flicked his fingers against the de, handing it over with a hum.


    Plop!


    Dorys immediately dropped to one knee, his face flushed with excitement. ��Prince, House Dayne will always be grateful for your kindness.��


    ��You will be well rewarded for your service.�� Rhaegar looked down condescendingly, his eyes deep. ��In the name of the Targaryen Regent, I appoint you as the Sword of Dawn and Lord of the Torentine.��


    The Torentine is a major river in the Red Mountains that flows into the Summer Sea. House Dayne��s Starfall is located upstream of the Torentine.


    ��I will not fail you!�� Dorys�� voice trembled as he took back the n sword, Dawn, with both hands.


    When news of Sunspear��s fall and his cousin��s death reached him, Dorys had surrendered on behalf of House Dayne. He knew that surrender was the only way to survive, especially with six dragons bombarding the city in turn. If they didn��t surrender, they would die. Moreover, the sword Dawn was in the hands of the Targaryens.


    Rhaegar waved his hand. ��Go now. Say hello to Qyle for me and ensure he epts the Maester��s teachings well.��


    A child should have a childhood of spoon-feeding.


    Dorys, deeply moved, led the fleet away, carrying Dawn in his arms. The fleet gradually grew smaller as it sailed into the distance.


    "Roar!"


    The ck dragon roared, circling the ind as if inspecting its long-lost territory.


    Rhaegar stood in the wind, looking at the two fleets, and rubbed the back of his fingers together.


    The peace agreement has been reached. The Iron Throne and Braavos would both win, while the Triarchy and Dorne fall.


    ��Not bad. The Iron Bank is very generous with its loans,�� Rhaegar mused, already nning how to put the money to good use.


    As for repaying the loan? I borrowed the money on my own merits, why should I pay it back? What if Braavoses to collect? Ask them how many fleets the Sealord has. If you don''t believe me, try me.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal sensed its rider��s emotions, its mouth opening in a hideous arc as it roared furiously.


    Rhaegar pped his hands and turned to walk back. His feet sank into the soft sand, with the blue sky and sea, and white clouds floating leisurely behind him. The arrogance of a man and a dragon relying on each other was palpable.


    Entering the iron gate of Dragonstone, Rhaegar remembered his business and asked, ��Are there any newly hatched young dragons on Dragonmount?��


    He spoke in High Valyrian, which is short and to the point.


    The old dragonkeeper trailed behind him, his expression full of bitterness. ��No, Dragonmount is very quiet.��


    Rhaegar did not believe him and continued to ask, ��What about Vermithor and Silverwing? Has it notid new eggs?"


    After Vhagar, Silverwing and Dreamfyre had always been fertile eggyers.


    The old dragonkeeper shook his head. ��Silverwing is sleeping. There are no eggs.�� He leaned on a bamboo stick.


    Rhaegar frowned slightly, thinking to himself, "Dragonstone has no young dragons, so it must be the Smoking Sea."


    Commonly known as wild dragons, they are hard to catch, especially young dragons with inconspicuous bodies. It''s hard to find them even if you look for them.


    ��Maybe they''re in Braavos or Sothoryos?�� Rhaegar thought as he walked, recalling his encounter with the Braavosi emissary, Baelus. A shrewd politician, Rhaegar had caught a glimpse of guilt in the man''s eyes. What was he hiding?


    Rhaegar''s eyes grew dangerous as he spected, ��There must be a secret behind the death of the previous Sealord.��


    Compared to the Smoking Sea and Sothoryos, where new young dragons might be hatching, he would rather believe that the three missing eggs from Dreamfyre had hatched.


    ��I must visit Braavos and nt more spies there,�� Rhaegar thought, not wanting to alert the enemy. There was some doubt about the hatching of the dragon eggs in Braavos. If there are young dragons, the news can''t be kept secret.


    With the death of the former Sealord, the two young dragons must be the target ofpetition from the forces behind the Iron Bank. It shouldn''t be so quiet. Unless...


    Rhaegar had a sh of inspiration. ��They don''t have the young dragons.�� Wildfires had destroyed a harbor, and there were very few witnesses around. Unless someone had set it up in advance, the young dragons would have definitely escaped. Speaking of arrangements, the former Sealord was blown up. Even if there was a n, they would have died in the wildfire.


    The old dragonkeeper saw that the Prince was thinking and said hesitantly, ��There are many dragon eggs in the nest.�� Not only were there eggs, but also Wyverns'' eggs. The Wyverns'' eggs were well-preserved under the dragonkeeper''s careful care, but it was unclear whether they would hatch.


    Rhaegar came back to his senses and said thoughtfully, ��Tell the dragonkeepers to step up patrols on Dragonmount and monitor the movements of Vermithor and Silverwing.�� There are only two dragons left on the ind, but we still need to keep an eye on them.


    The old dragonkeeper did not dare to be negligent and said humbly, ��Yes, sir.��


    At Rhaegar''s signal, the team headed for the towering Dragonmount.


    ...


    Stone Drum Tower, the Greenhouse


    Though called a greenhouse, it was actually a special cer designed to keep the dragon eggs warm.


    Click!


    Rhaegar lit the oilmps on the walls, using the dim light to guide him through the deep tunnel. The greenhouse was spacious, resembling an underground pce, with hollowed-out walls holding one furnace after another.


    ��They��re all dragon eggs!�� Rhaegar lifted the lid of one furnace, releasing a sulfurous white smoke that revealed a dark dragon egg.


    Each furnace contained a dragon egg, with colors ranging from green to blue-white to dark red. Rhaegar counted them one by one, totaling sixteen healthy eggs. These included the three eggs that Syrax hadid for the first time: green, gray, and orange. Syrax hadid two batches of three eggs each. The second batch of eggs hatched almost simultaneously, producing Moondancer and Morning. Thest bronze egg had been ced in the cradle of his eldest son, Baelon.


    ��The family is small; otherwise, we would have hatched several eggs by now,�� Rhaegar mused, looking hopefully at the dark egg and rubbing it against his cheek. ��Old buddy, when will you hatch?��


    The dark dragon egg, produced by Dreamfyre and personally selected by Rhaenyra, had been ced in Rhaegar��s cradle. Unfortunately, the egg and the person were not destined to be together. The ck dragon inside the shell had not hatched, benefitting therge ck dragon that consumed young dragons.


    Rhaegar yed with the ck dragon egg for a while before reluctantly putting it back in the oven. ��Let''s keep it well and save it for the children of the future,�� he said to himself.


    After all, Jeyne had been pregnant for several months, and the baby was expected in early summer. Rhaegar thought for a moment and shook his head. ��I��d better choose another dragon egg.��


    He wandered around the greenhouse, looking for a dragon egg that he liked. Rhaenyra had broken her rtionship with Jeyne, and if he gave Jeyne��s child the egg that Rhaenyra had chosen for him��well, his life would be short.


    As he continued to pick, Rhaegar became ustomed to the dim light of the greenhouse, and a wave of drowsiness came over him.


    ��Yawn~��


    After checking thest Wyvern egg, he yawned again. ��I��m so sleepy,�� Rhaegar muttered, feeling a strange sensation. He needed to sleep!


    He walked back to the greenhouse and took out the dark egg. Rhaegar spread out a nket and fell asleep with the egg in his arms.


    ng!


    The sword Vignce, tied to his waist, fell and was pressed under the weight of a person and an egg. Gradually, Rhaegar drifted into sleep.


    ...


    Outside,


    Hoo-


    A ck dragon broke through the clouds, its green pupils surveying the mountains below, its snout sniffing eagerly.


    It had caught a special scent.


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, the Cannibal''s green pupils shed with murderous light, and it let out an excited roar. A trace of dragon saliva slipped from its mouth.


    It remembered what the smell was.


    It was the scent of prey!


    The pair of jet-ck dragon wings pped, and the huge body immediately turned, diving deftly into the clouds before soaring high into the sky.


    The target: Dragonmount.


    ...


    It was gettingte.


    In the greenhouse, Rhaegary half-asleep. His handsome face was confused, his eyes half-open and half-closed, resembling a lost and broken teenager.


    As expected, he fell asleep again.


    Continuing fromst night''s dream, fragments of mist, waves, and young dragons kept shing before him, as ifpressed knowledge was being forced into his brain. Rhaegar passively endured it, and the images froze on thest frame: mist, a mountain, a young ck dragon...


    "Roar..."


    The ck dragon panicked, broke through theyers of fog, and plunged into Rhaegar''s arms.


    Yes, Rhaegar''s arms.


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened as he hugged the baby dragon without hesitation.


    Plop!


    The force of the impact sent Rhaegar reeling. The pain made it hard for him to breathe. He fell to the ground, hitting his head hard.


    Then he hit his head on the ground again.


    A voice suddenly sounded.


    ��This exploration isplete. Please pick up the lost treasure.��


    Rhaegar was startled awake by the sound and looked around in confusion.


    He reached out and grabbed a hard dragon egg and a light purple halo.


    Poof! The purple aura burst open, turning into a small purple light that entered his hand like cotton wool.


    ��Relic sessfully picked up, testing...��


    "The test was sessful. It was determined to be an epic relic, a treasure of the Seer."


    Rhaegar was slightly startled and hit his head hard to wake up.


    ��Epic relic, the Seer?�� he muttered to himself and tried to summon the relic.


    Vignce of House Hightower that gave him the treasure of the Seer is still there. It can only be said that they are worthy of being top nobles with a thousand-year heritage.


    Hum


    Rhaegar sat up, and a stonepass appeared out of thin air. Thepass was gray and white, with tiny cracks all over it, about the size of two adult palms. It was very round, with a dozen ferocious dragon patterns carved on the surface.


    ��Inscription?��


    Rhaegar flipped through thepass and faintly saw the inscriptions in a circle. Unfortunately, the years had blurred the inscriptions. Rhaegar looked forward to seeing the font change on the system panel.


    ��The Dragon Compass, made by a bloodmage Seer, is useful to find dragons.��


    ��Find dragons?��


    Rhaegar whispered, seeing the keywords ��blood�� and ��dragon.��


    Z!


    He cut his palm with a knife, and a drop of blood fell onto thepass.

 Chapter 489: Grey Ghost: You Promised Me a Reward.

    Chapter 489: Grey Ghost: You Promised Me a Reward.


    The blood drops, bright red like jade, dripped into the cracks on the surface of thepass stone. They quickly spread out, covering the stone te with a spider web-likeyer of blood red.


    Hum


    Thepass absorbed the blood, and the spider web bloomed with red light. The surface of the stone body crumbled and fell off inch by inch. In front of Rhaegar, it metamorphosed into a simple gray disc at a speed visible to the naked eye. The difference between the disc and the stone te was not significant, except that it looked newer. The inscriptions and dragon patterns on the surface were so vivid that they seemed to dance when no one was looking.


    The blood-red spider web had turned into blood vessels, intertwined with the dragon patterns. A needle was embedded in the center of the disc, and its point, missing a corner, swayed slightly, pointing to each of the dragon patterns.


    Rhaegar examined thepass closely and tried to move the needle. A system prompt sounded in his ear.


    ��Congrattions, the treasure of the Seer has been activated, and you have obtained...��


    [Dragon Compass]


    Level: Epic (Purple)


    Function: Breathe in the dragon''s breath and find the disobedient partner.Comment: ��A high-end dragon taming tool, the life''s work of a Seer.��


    The disc was officially named, and the stone crumbs floated down, turning into dust and blending into the earth. Rhaegar held the disc in his hands, his mind momentarily nk.


    ��Dragonpass, dragon taming tool.�� The words entered his mind and immediately took high priority. Rhaegar was overjoyed and couldn''t help but grin. ��I was just looking for a dragon, and now I have a way to find it without any trouble.��


    Dragon-taming tools are extremely precious, each one worth a fortune. A relic used to track down a dragon''s trail is a treasure from heaven.


    "Roar!"


    Just as he was about to activate thepass, a roar like a thunderp spread across half of Dragonstone. A gust of wind blew through the Stone Drum Tower, causing the entire castle to hum like a drum.


    tter...


    Dust fell from the ceiling, and Rhaegar felt his eardrums shake and his head spin. He reached out to embrace the dark dragon egg and rose unsteadily to his feet.


    ��The roar of the Cannibal,�� Rhaegar muttered, his heart racing. Fortunately, the dragon''s roar disappeared as quickly as it hade.


    Rhaegar quickly stored the ck dragon egg and grabbed Vignce and thepass. The greenhouse was built into the mountain, so there was no need to worry about the dragon eggs being destroyed.


    Buzz


    As soon as he ran out of the closed stone door, thepass emitted a faint halo of light.


    Rhaegar checked it immediately, sensing something strange. The needle on thepass spun rapidly, searching for a dragon pattern on its surface.


    Ding!


    The needle suddenly stopped, covered with cobweb-like blood-red veins, pointing to the first young dragon pattern. The carving of the young dragon was small, its fangs and ws in a fierce disy. The dragon''s head, with its dorsal fin turned sideways, had a single vertical pupil full of panic and fear. Surrounded by other dragon patterns, it looked like it was struggling in vain, desperately trying to escape.


    "Where is the young dragon?" Rhaegar stared at thepass, his brain working overtime. There had to be a reason why thepass was pointing in this direction.


    Buzz


    The needle began to spin again, and the red web on the surface of thepass glowed brightly. Eventually, it turned into a red beam and attached itself to the needle.


    Click!


    Thepass made a small sound, and the needle stopped at the pattern of a dragon returning to its nest. Rhaegar''s pupils narrowed as he immediately realized the key factor.


    "Dragonstone, the young dragon!"


    In all of Westeros and the continent of Essos, the only ce that could be called a dragon''s nest was Dragonmount, the dormant volcano.


    ��Cannibal is chasing the young dragons,�� Rhaegar muttered, a wild grin spreading across his face. He quickened his pace, eager to find the baby dragon.


    Without another word, he headed straight for the nest.


    ...


    Meanwhile, on Dragonmont


    A towering active volcano stood in the center of the ind, with barren mountains extending for more than ten miles to the east and west. Within a radius of tens of miles, thendscape was jagged with rocks.


    "Roar..."


    A ck and red dragon shadow shed past, apanied by a shrill cry. The dragon flew swiftly, its red wings pping and leaving a trail of shadows. It dove into the clouds and disappeared into the dense jungle, moving like arge bird.


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, a deep, thunderous roar crashed through the wind, dominating thendscape.


    Chirp, chirp...


    Birds in the jungle were startled, and small animals scattered, as if a natural disaster had struck.


    Whoosh!


    A gust of wind blew through, making the leaves dance wildly. The sky darkened.


    "Roar..."


    A young ck and red dragon looked up in panic, its pupils wide with fear.


    Above the jungle, a massive ck dragon, asrge as a mountain, with wings that covered the sky, soared through the air.


    Tick-tock!


    A drop of foul-smelling dragon saliva fell, hitting the branch of a towering ancient tree.


    Zla...


    The branch rotted instantly, emitting white smoke. The rot spread throughout the ancient tree, stripping off ayer of bark and turning it into a bare, dead husk.


    Cannibal''s pupils were cold and indifferent, with a hint of madness and cunning, like a killing machine with its own consciousness. It reveled in the hunt.


    "Roar..."


    The young ck and red dragon screamed in agony. A drop of hot dragon saliva had stained one of its wings, and it struggled to crawl away. Its body rolled on the moist soil, its scales scraping against the mud and stones, leaving behind a trail of scars. A shallow furrow was plowed into the ground.


    The young dragony on the ground, dejected and low-pitched, trying to p its wings. After a long effort, it realized something was wrong. It held up both wings, inspecting them.


    One wing was intact, only a little dusty. The other wing had a fist-sized hole in it.


    "Gah!"


    The young dragon widened its pupils and screamed in rm. It was small, about the size of an ordinary dog. Its body was covered in ck scales, with red dorsal fins on its neck and tail, and bright blood-red wing membranes. The dragon''s head was not fierce, but its horned crown was magnificent. Its white fangs and strange amber pupils formed a strikingbination.


    If Viserys were here at this moment, he would exim at the sight of this wild young dragon, ��Balerion has returned!�� This young dragon resembled the fallen ck Dread and the Cannibal, another ck dragon.


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, a strong smell of ash wafted through the air, and a huge shadowpletely covered the sky above the jungle.


    "Roar?"


    The young dragon froze, lifting its head slowly and mechanically. Its amber pupils filled with fear as they stared at the giant beast above them.


    Dark scales, cold eyes, and an unparalleled murderous aura...


    "Roar..."


    A low growl emanated from the depths of the giant dragon''s throat, enough to scare away the weakest of beasts.


    The young ck and red dragon froze for a moment, helplessly raising its wings and hugging itself. The sky was like a night curtain, blocking out all the sunlight. All that could be seen were two ghostly, green pupils staring intently at it.


    ...


    The Stone Drum Tower


    ��Prince, be careful!�� Casten Robert panted heavily as he chased Rhaegar out of the castle gates. A group of guards followed closely behind.


    ��Don''t worry about me. Tighten the news blockade along the coastline!�� Rhaegar, holding apass in his hand, ran excitedly.


    Within a few steps, he reached the stone steps and bridge. The sea of clouds around him moved constantly, listening to the rhythm of the wind and waves. He nced down at thepass, watching the needle spin wildly. Each time it stopped, it pointed to Dragonmont behind the bridge.


    ��A young dragon in the wild, don''t run away,�� Rhaegar muttered, overjoyed as he followed thepass''s guidance. He predicted that the young dragon would appear on Dragonstone. Cannibal''s strange behavior was likely due to it hunting the wandering young dragon.


    ��Don''t be an appetizer for the Cannibal!�� Knowing the Cannibal''s cruel nature, Rhaegar sped up, praying silently. He hoped he would be the first to arrive or that the young dragon would be fortunate enough to evade the Cannibal.


    Roar!


    As if on cue, a wave of turbulent clouds appeared, hiding a gray dragon shadow within. Rhaegar caught a glimpse and smiled. ��Grey Ghost,e out!��


    There was only one dragon with gray scales in all of Westeros.


    Roar!


    Hearing the familiar call, Grey Ghost poked its head out of the clouds, looking around suspiciously. Rhaegar stopped, opened his arms wide, and smiled. ��Don''t look, I''m alone.��


    Roar~


    Grey Ghost lowered its head, disappointed, and slowly emerged from the clouds, its well-proportioned body descending gracefully.


    Bang


    The slender body crouched low, stretching out a pair ofrge, thin, flexible dragon wings.


    "Good friend, help me," Rhaegar asked. ��The journey is too far. Take me for a ride.�� The Stone Drum Tower was at least ten kilometers from Dragonmont. Climbing the stone staircase and bridge would be a long trek on foot, and the young dragon might not survive the wait.


    Roar!


    Gray Ghost did not refuse. With a long, grumpy neck, it offered Rhaegar a ride on its back. The dragon''s nest at God''s Eye Lake had be too boring, so it had sneaked back to Dragonstone. It smelled the dragon''s food and came to see Rhaegar and his baby. Sadly, the baby was not there.


    Rhaegar climbed onto the dragon''s back and patted its delicate scales. "When my baby grows up, if you like him, you can take him to the sky."


    Roar~


    Gray Ghost snorted and looked back at him suspiciously. Rhaegar, with his thick skin, continued to paint a grand picture. "You are so beautiful and children will love you."


    Roar!


    Upon hearing this, Grey Ghost immediately became more spirited, holding its head high to show off its posture. It wasn''t ugly; its appearance was quite impressive, certainly more so than the Sheepstealer''s ugliness and the Cannibal''s horror.


    Rhaegar, suppressing his uneasy conscience, urged, ��Hurry up, we''re going to save a baby dragon, just like I saved you.��


    Roar!


    When Grey Ghost heard that the <em>Dragoneater</em> Cannibal was after a young dragon, it became unhappy and took off in a hurry. Rhaegar adjusted his position, embracing the cool dragon''s neck. Grey Ghost''s faith was strong, and its flying speed continued to increase. The dragon''s body, already slender, looked like a shuttle at high speeds, expertly controlled by its wings.


    ...


    In the blink of an eye,


    The man and dragon leapt over the stone steps and bridge, arriving at the dense jungle in the inner reaches of Dragonmont.


    "Roar!"


    The Grey Ghost let out a shrill cry, sniffing the strong smell of ash, andnded warily in an open area.


    Rhaegar picked up thepass and spotted a pool of blood on the ground. He jumped off the dragon''s back and rubbed a piece of blood-stained dirt between his fingers. The smell was strong, and the soil was still warm, proving that the young dragon had indeed been there and was injured.


    Rhaegar looked around, seeing no traces of the Cannibal''s footprints. He smiled. ��You''re so big, Cannibal, it must be hard for you to catch small things.��


    Cannibal was enormous, with a head and tail more than 140 meters long. A baby dragon was only about a meter long at most, making it difficult to catch in such a confined space.


    "Roar!"


    The Grey Ghost spread its wings, hopping up and down, pointing its tail at the towering Dragonmont. It had smelled it��the scent of the dragon was drifting in the air.


    Rhaegar did not hesitate and jumped onto the dragon''s back. ��Grey Ghost, pick up the pace.��


    The young dragon had escaped for the time being, but that didn''t mean it would survive. The Cannibal was a big, bad dragon with a terrible temper. He not only coveted the eggs and bodies of his own kind but also enjoyed the thrill of the hunt. The young dragon might not have died in the jungle, but it was very likely the Cannibal was ying a game of cat and mouse.

 Chapter 490: How to Train Your Dragon

    Chapter 490: How to Train Your Dragon


    Dragonmont


    "Roar..."


    The ck and red young dragon was in a terrible state, dragging its injured wing and fleeing for its life. It flew crookedly, as if a gust of wind could blow it down.


    Its vertical pupils nced down at the rugged mountain range and deste wastnd below. Ahead, a towering ck peak loomed.


    "Roar..."


    The young dragon''s pupils shed with fear, sensing the rich fire element, and it sped up, beating its wings faster. Thisnd was more fertile than the terrain it had been wandering over. Especially after flying over the salty water, the climate was much harsher and unsuitable for dragons.


    The little one had followed the smell of sulfur from Dragonstone all the way south. But luck was not on its side. As soon as itnded on the ind, it encountered a hungry <em>Dragoneater</em> dragon.


    "Roar..."


    The young ck and red dragon regretted its decision, ncing back at the deep cave it had chosen. In the next second,"Roar!"


    The young dragon was horrified, wishing it had two more wings.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal''s green pupils were full of mockery. It leisurely shuttled through the clouds, its massive body overshadowing the young dragon. In contrast, the young dragon looked even smaller, like a single scale plucked from the Cannibal''s body.


    Terrified, the ck and red young dragon squeezed its potential to elerate. The Cannibal remained unmoved, its snout curling into a mocking grin as it slowly followed behind.


    The Cannibal sensed the rider''s mental connection but ignored it. It was hunting, and a hunt should look like a hunt. Cannibal intended to y around for a while, decidingter whether to feed or not depending on the situation.


    The young dragon in front of it was too small, not even enough to fill a gap in its teeth.


    Cannibal considered raising it for a while and then hunting it when it reached a young dragon size. But the young dragon''s presence could not be kept secret. Given the rider''s determined character, he would certainly not allow it to be a snack.


    Cannibal was torn between eating and not eating.


    ...


    The ck and red young dragon fled frantically, finally escaping the dragon-eating Cannibal''s prying eyes as it neared Dragonmont. With a burst of speed, it disappeared into a narrow, cramped cave, where the light dimmed suddenly.


    "Roar..."


    The young dragon didn''t have time to catch its breath. It sniffed the lingering dragon scent around it, and after a while, determined that the smell was weaker in one direction and chose a passage.


    "Roar!"


    The ck and red young dragon squealed with joy, spreading its wings as it crawled deeper into the cave. Instinct told it to build a nest here. There were human towns outside the mountain, with flocks of sheep and cattle��plenty of food. The only worry was the ferocious dragon-eating Cannibal outside. It also wondered how the other wild dragons on the ind had managed to hatch and grow up safely without being hunted.


    Boom!


    Suddenly, a huge dragon''s head crashed into the cave, causing the mountain to shake slightly and the ground to tremble.


    "Roar!"


    The young dragon turned around to see a massive mouth in the abyss, gathering a ball of dark green dragon breath. In the next second, it burst forth.


    Boom!


    The smoky, green Dragonfire poured into the cave, spreading like a gue and bringing with it the heat of molten rock.


    "Roar!"


    The young dragon was shocked and fled, pping its wings hard.


    Bang!


    The ck dragon''s head got stuck at the entrance of the cave, its hard scales scraping against the rocks, dragging off pieces of gravel. The young dragon fled, its green pupils glowing with cold light as it silently watched the Cannibal.


    Bang!


    The two dragon wings supported the mountain, and the Cannibal roughly pulled out its head, sending boulders the size of baskets flying in all directions. Immediately, the single w of its wing dug into the main rock body, and its hind legs climbed up, using the force to climb higher.


    Dragonmont was huge, with caves leading in all directions. Cannibal knew a wide tunnel that was convenient for burrowing underground when it was sleeping.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal climbed to the top of Dragonmont, found a cave opening in a remote corner, and poked its head in. Then its massive body, wings, and long tail followed, until the entire dragon disappeared into the cave.


    ...


    At this moment, Rhaegar was on his way.


    "Roar!"


    Grey Ghost sped forward at full speed and soon reached the vicinity of Dragonmont. As they approached, Rhaegar was shocked by what he saw. A ck dragon slowly and powerfully climbed the mountain, finally entering a cave.


    Crack!


    The dragon''s tail, as thick as a tree trunk, flicked back and forth, cracking the rocks at the mouth of the cave. Then it disappeared like a ck snake.


    Rhaegar sat on the dragon''s back and watched the scene unfold. He couldn''t help but marvel at how a dragon''s size could change everything. Dragonmont, a towering mountain rising more than 3,000 meters above sea level, seemed like an inconspicuous ��small mountain�� in front of Cannibal.


    ��Grey Ghost, let''s go,�� Rhaegarmanded, taking a deep breath and nning to teach the Cannibal a lesson. How dare it reject their metal connection?


    Grey Ghost tilted his head, as if to say, "Huh?" Do I have to fight Cannibal alone?


    Rhaegar patted its neck andughed at the hesitant dragon. ��Go on, I don''t expect anything from you.��


    Hum...


    Thepass in his arms trembled slightly, and the needle kept spinning. With so many dragons in Dragonmont, thepass couldn''t tell which one it was tracking.


    Rhaegar put away his vignce, took out his dragon-taming whip from his collection, and looked around with thepass in his hand. Thepass needed dragon blood to activate. To find a specific dragon, he needed something that had been in contact with the dragon.


    Suddenly realizing this, Rhaegar picked a bit of dirt from his fingers, which was stained with the blood of a young dragon.


    Hum


    Thepass immediately stabilized, and the needle pointed firmly in one direction. There was a matching engraving on the surface of thepass: two dragons lying on the ground as if sleeping. One young dragon was trembling, and the red spider webs were interlinked, showing its fear of the tworger dragons.


    Rhaegar quickly deduced that these were Vermithor and Silverwing. Thepass was truly amazing. A dozen or so simple dragon carvings, connected by blood-red spider webs like veins, formed hundreds of different images.


    "Roar!"


    Grey Ghost pped its wings and selected a hidden cave, carrying Rhaegar into it.


    ...


    Dragonmont, Deep within


    Hoo-hoo!


    Hot breath spewed out, and the sound of panting echoed in the empty cave. Cannibal''s dted pupils probed the surface, crawling slowly and relying on its keen sense of smell to find the young dragon''s trail.


    Soon, the sniffing stopped.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal roared loudly, its massive body crashing into the ground, excitedly digging into a dark tunnel.


    Hundreds of meters away, in a narrow tunnel, water dripped from the crevices of the rocks, creating a ticking sound. The ck and red young dragon crawled cautiously, nervously dodging when water droplets fell. Dragons don''t like water. But in the scorching heat of Dragonmont, there is water hidden in some dark corners.


    The young dragon hid all the way until the tunnel ahead opened up. The steep, bumpy path disappeared, reced by a long stone bridge. The bridge led deep into the darkness, exuding a strong sulfuric fragrance and the stench of dragon dung.


    The young dragon crawled along the bridge, its pupils dted with fear, constantly looking back to see if the Cannibal was following. It was afraid therger dragon would catch up.


    Click!


    The young dragon lost its footing on one of its hind legs, crushing a loose stone.


    Quiet! The cave was dark and silent as death.


    The young dragon looked left and right to ensure there was no immediate danger and let out a big sigh of relief. It was so scared. It thought something was going to happen.


    Phew!


    Suddenly, a hot breath blew in its face, burning its fragile scales. The young dragon instinctively took a step back and trembled all over.


    Crash!


    The sound of gravel rubbing and heavy objects being stepped on filled the air. The young dragon was terrified, staring straight ahead. In the darkness, the outline of a hideous dragon wheeled into view, its scales flickering in the faint light.


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, the dragon''s head thrust forward, and it spat out a jet of golden Dragonfire like moltenva. But that wasn''t all. While the young dragon was terrified of the Bronze Fury, a green dragon head quietly appeared from the other side of the bridge.


    The long, slender neck turned, revealing two ring gaps. Below, the dragon''s body, hidden in the underground caverns, and the pair of silver wings that gave it its name.


    After Vermithor roared, its pupils shed with rage, and it snorted heavily.


    Plop!


    The air current was so strong that it blew the young dragon over, knocking it out cold.


    "Roar?"


    Silverwing nced at its partner, slowly extended its neck, and fixed itsrge copper-colored pupils on the young dragon. The ck and red young dragony limp on the ground, its pupils shing with fear and unease. It was so small that it seemed no bigger than a dragon toothpared to the tworger dragons.


    Intrigued, Silverwing spread its wings and climbed up the bridge, snorting at the young dragon. Below the bridge was a messy pit filled with dragon droppings and the bones of sheep and cattle. Vermithor and Silverwing slept here, and the bridge was built to allow riders to mount the dragons. This structure, built by King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne decades ago, was no longer in use.


    "Roar!"


    Silverwing''s provocations finally angered the young dragon. The ck and red dragonlet quickly dodged, raised its tail high, and spat a jet of ck Dragonfire at the green dragon''s eyes. The Dragonfire, as deep as the night, formed a pir of me.


    "Roar!"


    Silverwing quickly closed its eyes, and the Dragonfire hit its eyelids. Though uninjured, it was extremely humiliated. In a fit of rage, it opened his blood-red mouth wide, attempting to swallow the young dragon whole.


    "Roar!"


    The ck and red young dragon screamed in agony, unable to resist. Silverwing pressed in tighter and tighter, the sticky dragon saliva on its teeth about to tear into the fresh young dragon. At the critical moment, a high-level High Valyrianmand full of magic was issued, carrying an unyielding air of authority.


    "Dracarys!"


    "Roar!"


    Greenish Dragonfire filled the entire underground cave. Silverwing, about to pounce, was instantly overwhelmed as the Dragonfire rushed into its mouth, nearly suffocating it.


    "Roar!"


    Silverwing let out a cry full of grievance and pain, shaking off the sticky Dragonfire and swaying back and forth. Vermithor, instantly furious, ignored its partner''s injuries and rushed out of the cave toward the tunnel.


    The young ck and red dragon, caught between several dragons, was scared out of its wits. It wrapped its wings around its body, shrinking into a blood-red ball.


    "Vermithor, obey!"


    At the end of the tunnel, the young High Valyrian voice was heard again. A ck dragon slowly crawled out, its green pupils showing reluctance, and its snout emitting wisps of me. It was the Cannibal, found and subdued by its rider.


    Rhaegar sat on the back of the dragon, his face solemn, his back straight, heading towards the underground cavern. In his hand, thepass hummed softly, and the dragon whip hung at his side. Upon entering Dragonmont, he had contacted the Cannibal. The big guy still wanted to disobey, but a whipping made him obedient.


    "Roar..."


    Grey Ghost sneaked up behind him, peering at the imposing Cannibal, its pupils showing visible signs of tension. When it nced at Rhaegar, its tail tip shook involuntarily. It was painful just to be a witness to the beating.


    If it even subdues Cannibal, it has no chance against it.


    "Roar!"


    Vermithor burst out of the tunnel, its head smashing through the surrounding rock walls, its fangs bared in a disy of wild dominance. Cannibal stopped moving, its green eyes gleaming with murderous intent, and its long scarlet tongue licked its lips.


    ��Behave yourself,�� Rhaegarmanded, kicking the ck scales with his right foot to warn the green-eyed dragon. Then his gaze fell on Vermithor. He raised his arm slightly, and the dragon whip stretched out naturally.


    Crack!

 Chapter 491 Cannibal: Do You Know the Value of a Wild Dragon?

    Chapter 491 Cannibal: Do You Know the Value of a Wild Dragon?


    "Vermithor, do you want to fight me?"


    His voice was calm, his expression arrogant. Rhaegar sat on the back of the ck dragon, as if he were a dragon himself.


    "Roar!"


    Vermithor''s pupils turned red with rage. The dragon''s head shook violently, pushing outward.


    Rhaegar''s lips curled up. ��Then let''s try it.��


    "Roar..."


    The dragon was awakened from its slumber, and Cannibal walked in into the nest. Vermithor was almost out of his mind, his huge body mming into the cave, emitting rising heat.


    Cannibal raised its head high, its green pupils betraying human-like contempt, waiting quietly for its defeated opponent to break through the terrain restrictions.


    The cave where it was located was connected to Vermithor''s sleeping cave by a tunnel. It was built for humans, not for a dragon of such enormous size. Cannibal was able to get here because it had previously explored every corner of Dragonmont in order to steal dragon eggs.


    "Roar!"


    Vermithor roared mightily, soon pushing its neck out of the tunnel, but its broad shoulders and wings remained stuck at the entrance. The entire cave shook violently, as if celebrating the angry dragon''s escape. Cannibal let out a hot breath, its green eyes shing with cunning satisfaction.


    "Roar!"


    The ck dragon''s shadow shot out, scratching the ground with its wings, and opened its mouth wide to bite.


    Snap!


    Scales cracked, flesh and blood flew. Vermithor let out a scream as its thick neck was bitten, shaking back and forth in shock and anger. How dare it attack me!


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal cried out in excitement, pressing one of its hind legs firmly down on Vermithor''s dragon head, relishing the hard-won delicacy. At this moment, its mind was filled with thoughts of tyranny, pride, and arrogance.


    Confident in its dominance, the Cannibal enjoyed the struggle of Vermithor. The neck that protruded from the tunnel was a lesson in the art of deception. It was a wild dragon! As we all know, wild dragons will do anything to survive.


    "Roar..."


    Vermithor was instantly subdued, with a piece of flesh missing from its neck. It spat out a mouthful of searing Dragonfire.


    Z��


    Cannibal did not dodge or avoid the Dragonfire, allowing it to burn its hind legs. The pain only stimted its desire to hunt. Anger rose within the Cannibal. It pressed its entire body against the outer wall of the tunnel, digging its sharp ws into the rock with one hind leg, while its wings spread out above and below, forming a difficult position for climbing upside down.


    With one hind leg and both wings supporting it, Cannibal raised its head, swallowed the torn flesh, and stomped hard with its burnt hind leg.


    Bang!


    Vermithor''s ck ws mmed down on the dragon''s head after a burst of Dragonfire, causing a momentary forced stun. Cannibal, now more rampant than ever, fully embraced its identity as a great evil dragon, lifting and dropping its hind legs with increasing force.


    Vermithor had nowhere to go, emitting a low roar of helpless fury. However, its body was stuck in the tunnel, unable to fight back effectively.


    Behind the two dragons, Grey Ghost crouched in fear, witnessing such a brutal scene. The big ws stomped on its head. Vermithor, as an adult dragon, was incredibly strong and had unparalleled vitality and defense. If it were Grey Ghost, its head would have been ttened in the first blow.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal raised its head and roared, dragon''s hot blood dripping from its mouth, making its already terrifying appearance even more hideous.


    ��Calm down, old friend,�� Rhaegar said calmly, watching the one-sided struggle between the two dragons. He had to remember his purpose: to find the young dragon that had been left to fend for itself in the wild.


    "Roar!"


    Vermithor''s head whirled faster and faster, dodging the ws and spitting out a breath of Dragonfire. In an instant, the entire crypt was bathed in a dazzling golden light. The dragonfire sttered like moltenva, not only covering the Cannibal in mes but also nearly hitting the onlookers.


    Rhaegar leaned back, and the Dragonfire passed by his hair, igniting a golden me.


    ��Damn it!�� Rhaegar''s upper body was almostpletely suspended in the air. He changed his expression and said, ��Come on, didn''t the dragon keepers feed you sheep and cattle?��


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal was stunned by thement but then rose up with a spirit of defiance, opening its mouth wide to bite. It sensed Rhaegar''s discontent, interpreting it as a challenge to bite harder.


    Rhaegar sensed this emotion and turned his eyes away in disgust. He had expected a furious Vermithor and a thrilling battle, but it turned out to be a reckless dragon with a big body but no brains, being savagely ravaged by the insidious Cannibal.


    He had his dragon whip ready. The thought alone caused a change in the situation.


    Just as the Cannibal was about to sink its teeth into him, Vermithor lunged back, stretching its neck to try to bite back.


    Boom!


    Cannibal was no easy prey either, and a burst of dark green Dragonfire erupted.


    "Roar!"


    Vermithor let out a piercing cry of rage after missing its target. At this moment, something unexpected happened. Vermithor suddenly began to think. Taking advantage of the Cannibal''s momentary distraction, it quickly pulled its neck out of the tunnel, despite the burning sensation of the maggot-like bone maggots. It sessfully escaped.


    Rhaegar red slightly and reminded him, ��Cannibal, the other one escaped.��


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal was not about to give up so easily. The Dragonfire continued to spew relentlessly, targeting the narrow tunnel. As soon as the Dragonfire touched it, the rock began to twist and deform. In just a few short breaths, the surrounding rock walls melted into magma, quickly expanding into a spacious furnace passage. After a short while, the magma solidified and took shape.


    Cannibal''s green pupils glowed faintly as it crawled forward slowly but surely.


    Step! Tap, tap, tap!


    The dragon''s ws hooked the ground, crushing the grayyer that had not yet solidifiedpletely, spilling out bright yellow magma. The high temperature scorched the ck scales, emitting a shrill sizzling sound. Rhaegar sat on the dragon''s back, wisps of white smoke drifting out.


    The scales of the Cannibal were reinforced and as hard as Valyrian steel, with super high heat resistance. At the same time, the high temperature from all directions swirled around him. Rhaegar remained calm, only tucking his long silver-gold hair behind his head and holding his breath. In the high-temperature environment, the air was nearly a vacuum. Even if he could breathe, it would be full of harmful substances.


    Cannibal crawled slowly, its pupils fixed on the tunnel''s end, a dimly lit cave. Rhaegar''s body undted as he lowered his dragon whip to his knees. One man, one dragon, fearless.


    ...


    Driftmark


    High Tide, Hall of Nine


    Rhaenys stood calmly, her arms resting on a wine cab as she stared across the lobby.


    "That''s the situation," she said.


    "Is that true?" Daemon asked, frowning as he sat down in a chair, leaning over to talk to one of the scouts.


    The scout, his face as stiff as a board, whispered his report, "Explorers from Vntis have seen dragons in the Smoking Sea."


    "Okay, I know," Daemon said distractedly, pulling a bag of gold dragons from his sleeve and handing it over. The scout took the money and left the lobby.


    "Another wild dragon has appeared?" Rhaenys asked, her eyebrows raising imperceptibly.


    Daemon nodded slightly, his expression grim. "A wild blue baby dragon. I don''t know where it hatched."


    Rhaenys thought to herself, "The matter of the young dragon could be important. It''s best to report it to the royal family immediately." She wanted to report it to Rhaegar, but for fear of offending her narrow-minded cousin, she changed it to the royal family.


    Daemon raised his eyebrows, a hint of dissatisfaction in his eyes. The royal family is full of problems. His brother was bedridden and Rhaenyra was only a woman. In the end, it would fall to his good nephew to take care of it.


    During their conversation, a third voice interjected. "Prince Rhaegar is on Dragonstone right now. He should be handling this."


    Daemon looked away toward the Driftwood Throne inside the Hall of Nine. The Sea Snake sat upright, his face solemn. "Thest time a wild dragon from the Smoking Sea appeared, it triggered a war between the Kingdom and the Triarchy. This time, the wild dragon cannot fall into the hands of others and stir up the royal family''s sensitive nerves."


    Deep down, he already hated war. He didn''t want to pay any more.


    Rhaenys nced at her husband and exined to Daemon, "house Vryon has sacrificed too much and needs to recuperate."


    His words are always soplicated. Why can''t he just say what he means?


    Daemon chuckled. "I''ll report it. Rhaegar must know about this." He had sent out a myriad of spies to find a cure for his brother''s damaged soul. Through the map of the Targaryen ancestral estate shared by his good nephew, more than a dozen exploration teams entered the Smoking Sea. Not only did they find traces of what they were looking for, but also news of a young dragon.


    Daemon''s thoughts drifted away to a courtyard in Tyrosh, where he seemed to see his paramour, Mysaria. That woman was born a dancer, lowly and dirty. But beneath that beautiful face was a heart of gold.


    After Mysaria had an abortion, the two had a long period of estrangement. The reason was that Mysaria did not feel safe and abandoned Daemon, the Rogue Prince. To put it bluntly, a whore dumped him.


    Mysaria lived in a brothel in Flea Bottom and made a living by selling information. She was once very close to Otto Hightower. When Daemon conquered Tyrosh, he needed someone like a Master of Whisperers and sent someone to find Mysaria. As expected, the old lovers who had not forgotten each other got back together.


    Daemon thought of many things in an instant: his brother waiting for his son, his nephew about to ascend the throne, and Laena, who had nearly died in childbirth. Finally, the picture stopped on the pale skin of Mysaria. Sixteen years ago, on a certain night, that woman had used him of being a coward, afraid of his brother sitting on the Iron Throne, which had caused the miscarriage of their son.


    Daemon recalled the past, covering his mouth with his hand to hide a sigh. "I need a son. Sorry," he muttered to himself. "Rhaenyra has retrieved all the dragon eggs, so I will capture a baby dragon." A dark and uncertain light shed in Daemon''s eyes, as if he wereining about the unfair treatment he had received.


    The dragon eggs and the young dragons were all under the control of the royal family. The dragon eggs his two daughters received, were under the control of their foster mother, and the gift was only dependent on Rhaenyra''s charity.


    He was determined to have a son. He didn''t need a gift from the royal family; he would have already saved a dragon for his son.


    " I will go to Dragonster," Daemon thought clearly. His nephew''s movements were unclear, and his behavior on Dragonstone was very strange. There must be a secret. Fortunately, he also had a secret.

 Chapter 492: Grey Ghost: Come on, Let’s Fight!

    Chapter 492: Grey Ghost: Come on, Let��s Fight!


    Dragonstone


    Dragonmont, Underground Caverns


    "Roar!"


    Roar...


    Vermithor was on all fours, blood gushing from its neck, snarling furiously. Silverwing stayed close, snorting warily and staring into the tunnel, where the heat was already beginning to bite. The pungent smell of ash grew closer and closer.


    Sssss...


    Footsteps and the low growl of a dragon''s throat could be heard in the tunnel. Vermithor and Silverwing braced for the worst.


    Click!


    A slight noise broke the tense atmosphere, as audible as a pin drop. At that moment, the ck and red young dragon, curled up into a ball, opened its wings and peered around cautiously. Seeing that no dragon was paying attention to it, it quietly crawled down the stone bridge.


    The heat transmitted quickly, and the stone b under its butt began to warm, forcing it to move. As soon as the young dragon slipped under the stone bridge, a gust of wind suddenly blew.


    "Roar!"


    A grayish-white dragon shadow shed past, rushing into the underground cave. Vermithor and Silverwing opened their mouths simultaneously, golden and orange Dragonfire swirling out.


    "Ga~~"


    Gray Ghost spun around, easily avoiding the two streams of dragonfire, and flew out of the underground cave. The Long Bridge was a passageway for humans and, of course, an entrance and exit for dragons.


    Outside the cave was a cliff halfway up Dragonmont. The dragon flew out of the cave to a view of rolling mountains and green meadows.


    "Roar!"


    Vermithor stopped attacking, looking doubtfully at the cave entrance. It was a mistake. It wasn''t Cannibal.


    "Huh?"


    The Grey Ghost flew halfway up the mountain, sticking out its dragon''s head and emitting a high-pitched chirp. Its clear vertical pupils were a mixture of fear and curiosity. Yes, it was forced to scout the way, being small enough to escape easily.


    Seeing the dragon outside the cave, Vermithor realized he had been tricked. He climbed up the stone bridge to attack, with Silverwing following.


    Two against one, they had the advantage.


    Suddenly, a strong smell of ash hit their nostrils.


    "Roar!"


    A pair of green pupils appeared, and then a ck dragon leapt out.


    Plop!


    Cannibal crashed into Vermithor''s chest, tearing scales off his belly with its ws and engaging in a brutal close-quarters battle. Initially passive, Vermithor quickly responded with a counterattack. It tried to kick the Cannibal away with its feet while opening its huge mouth to bite at its neck.


    Crack!


    Vermithor''s sharp teeth collided with the Cannibal''s dark scales, sending sparks flying. Vermithor lunged forward, its teeth slicing through the scales and finally tasting blood.


    "Roar!"


    In the blink of an eye, the Cannibal shook its head and knocked Vermithor away, spewing a mouthful of long-simmering, dark green Dragonfire.


    Roar...


    Silverwing roared, spreading its silver-white wings and swooping down on the Cannibal. Old grudges and new ones merged; today was the day of reckoning.


    ��I''ve been waiting for you!�� Rhaegar locked his eyes on the ferocious Silverwing and swung his whip with all his might. The dragon-taming whip stretched out, its barbed spikes protruding like a flexible, strange snake.


    In an instant, the whip struck Silverwing''s neck.


    "Roar..."


    Silverwing let out a roar, and its attack halted. A ck mark appeared on its green scales where the whip had struck, as if it had been bruised.


    Rhaegar raised his whip andmanded in High Valyrian, ��Back off!�� His voice echoed loudly throughout the cave.


    Silverwing, uncertain and wary, stared at the whip and slowly backed away. It understood High Valyrian and felt the sting of the whip. The unfamiliar pain made it retreat.


    ��Roar!��


    Vermithor roared in anger, struggling to break free from the Cannibal''s grip. The Cannibal took a step back, then spread its wings and prepared to pounce again. It was bigger and stronger. In a one-on-one fight, it didn''t need to maneuver much.


    Rhaegar sat on the Cannibal''s back, with no chains around his waist, and almost fell off due to the shaking. At such a critical moment, there was no room for error. He held the handle with one hand and used his feet to keep his bnce on the saddle.


    ��Roar...��


    The dragon-taming whip no longer pointed, and Silverwing, like a runaway horse, was determined to re-engage in the fight.


    Roar!


    Grey Ghost flew back from the outside and spat out a massive fireball with a diameter of two meters. Silverwing, unable to dodge in time, was hit in the head by the fireball, nearly knocking it unconscious.


    Roar~


    As Silverwing regained itsposure, the ck and red young dragon flew out from the ground and shot Dragonfire at its wing. The Dragonfire was pure ck, leaving a small ck spot on the silver-bright wing membrane. It didn''t burn through, but it was smudged.


    Silverwing was furious. With a flick of its tail, it sent the ck and red young dragon flying like a fly, straight at the grey shadow at the mouth of the cave. Grey Ghost, smart and quick, knew when to run. It flew out of the cave in an instant.


    As Silverwing arrived at the entrance, a huge fireball smashed into it.


    Bang!


    Silverwing''s wings blocked the fireball, which shattered into a shower of sparks.


    ��Roar!��


    Silverwing let out a roar, and its huge body emerged from the cave, leaving its nest for the first time in months. Once out of the underground cave, its silver wings spread outpletely. The green scales resembled leaves, and the silver dragon wings mirrored two bright shields.


    Silverwing, over 90 years old and more than 70 meters long, was an undisputed giant. In terms of size, it wasrger than the three generations of dragons before it, including Dreamfyre, who had swallowed the Dragon''s Essence. Grey Ghost, flying in the air, was barely 30 meters long, not even half the size of its opponent. A nce from Silverwing''s vertical pupils almost made Grey Ghost run away in fear.


    Silverwing was huge and striking, a dragon of both strength and beauty. The only drawback was the two obvious missing patches of flesh where the neck connected to the shoulder des. That was the work of the Cannibal. Even after the wounds healed and the scales grew back, the dents remained, devoid of muscle tissue.


    ��Roar!��


    Silverwing red at the gray wild dragon, its green scales shining in the sunlight. Grey Ghost, smaller and more agile, dove into the clouds and hid its body as it always did. With its gray-white scales, it blended perfectly with the clouds.


    ��Roar!��


    Silverwing was furious, spitting Dragonfire at the clouds, the orange mes stretching for hundreds of meters. At this moment, a grayish-white dragon head poked out from a cloud behind Dragonmont. Grey Ghost trembled, torn between fleeing and fighting. Its instinct told it it could not defeat the green dragon, but it wanted to prove itself.


    Grey Ghost, in his young-adult years, had been bullied by Sunfyre and hunted by Cannibal, and it was covered in scars.


    Rhaegar happened to save it. Grey Ghost had seen Rhaegar ride the Cannibal out of Dragonmont, and the image had burned into his mind. It had already escaped once and lost a possible rider.


    Dragons have their pride, and oveing their nature is the hardest choice. The thought came to him.


    ��Roar...��


    Grey Ghost''s reason prevailed. It snorted and burst out of the clouds, spitting Dragonfire balls at the green dragon. It was not a timid little dragon!

 Chapter 493: Herding the Dragon Pack – Iragaxys

    Chapter 493: Herding the Dragon Pack �C Iragaxys


    The fireball sped forward.


    Silverwing, sensing a gust of wind behind it, quickly turned to face it.


    Boom!


    The dragon''s tail swayed slowly, and Silverwing leapt nimbly, dodging the fireball sideways.


    ��Roar!��


    Its vertical pupils locked onto the Grey Ghost in ambush. Burning with rage, Silverwing chased after it head-on. A wild dragon that had just be an adult dared to challenge the majesty of a true dragon.


    Even the ugly Mud Dragon was too scared to make a sound when facing it.


    Hoo!


    Silverwing moved so fast it seemed like a jade arc, spraying orange Dragonfire as it charged forward. Grey Ghost was shocked, not expecting the gap between the two to be so great. Its wings pped desperately, trying to dive into the clouds to escape.


    Frantically, Grey Ghost pped its wings, trying to escape into the clouds.


    However, Silverwing, intimately familiar with Dragonmont, created a boiling mist with its Dragonfire, foiling Grey Ghost��s attempt to vanish into the clouds.


    ��Gah?��


    Exposed and desperate, Grey Ghost spat fireballs in fear.


    Pop!


    The fireballs disintegrated into sparks upon contact with the orange Dragonfire.


    Silverwing��s eyes gleamed with lethal intent. It swooped down, jaws wide, aiming to seize Grey Ghost��s neck in one swift move.


    Grey Ghost turned to flee, but it was already toote.


    It watched in horror as the green dragon bore down on it, drooling acrid dragon saliva.


    At this critical moment, a thought pierced its exhausted mind.


    It didn��t want to die; it wanted to fight back.


    Embracing this resolve, Grey Ghost abandoned its flight.


    A piercing scream erupted from it, and a massive three-meter ball of Dragonfire shot forth.


    ��Roar!��


    From the cave, a thunderous roar echoed, followed by a stream of green Dragonfire.


    Grey Ghost felt a chill down its spine and instinctively ducked.


    The smoky green fire surged overhead, colliding with the onrushing Silverwing.


    Boom!


    Caught off guard, Silverwing crashed into the green Dragonfire, driven back by the powerful st.


    Grey Ghost paused in astonishment, then nced back at the cave.


    ��Cannibal, fly.��


    A silver-haired figure astride the dragon gazed serenely skyward.


    Grey Ghost''s pupils widened in surprise. It shook off the Silverwing pping at the Dragonfire and darted to the edge of the cave.


    Rhaegar raised his dragon whip and smiled faintly. "Grey Ghost, have you grown more courageous?"


    Grey Ghost took it as apliment and felt a surge of joy.


    Rhaegar''s smile grew brighter. He whipped the Cannibal on the back andmanded, ��Don''t block the entrance.��


    ��Roar!��


    Cannibal shook its head and growled, its green pupils full of reluctance, especially fearful of the dragon-taming whip.


    Grey Ghost was stunned, noticing Rhaegar''s appearance.


    Silver hair hanging down his shoulders, his face had turned pale, and a trace of ck fire was visible in his eyes, exuding a sense of belonging.


    Rhaegar let his long hair fall, revealing dragon scales and horns on his forehead. The strange posture and crooked corners of his mouth created a morbid sense of nobility.


    Grey Ghost did not wait to observe him up close. Cannibal stepped out of the cave, its huge body leaping down and taking flight.


    Silverwing saw this and quickly retreated.


    Cannibal did not pursue but circled back and forth in front of the cave.


    Rhaegar looked down on him condescendingly, and the dragon whip snapped in midair with a crisp sound. Hemanded, ��Let''s go!��


    ��Roar!��


    A weak growl came from the cave. The rock wall at the top of the cave rubbed back and forth, dropping sharp gravel, apanied by the sound of rustling stones.


    A bronze dragon head with a ferocious horn poked out, its pupils narrowing with a hint of defiance, looking up at the dragon rider in the air.


    Crack!


    Without a word, Rhaegar whipped his hand back and forth in the air, saying sternly, ��Obey mymand, Vermithor!��


    Hearing the crack of the whip, Vermithor opened his jagged dragon''s mouth and reluctantly stepped out of the cave.


    Whoosh!


    The wings beat out a gust of wind, and the bronze dragon climbed high into the sky, searching for its mate to fly with.


    Rhaegar''s face was cold, but his lips curled up in a secret smile.


    The binding spell and the dragon whip really worked.


    After a fewshes, the two adult dragons that had been fighting each other calmed down and made peace, especially Vermithor. This dragon, known as ��Bronze Fury,�� would rampage when angry.


    Rhaegar used a little physical persuasion to calm the Bronze Fury down. Although there was the use of external forces, it had ovee its irritable nature.


    ��Roar!��


    Cannibal red at the two dragon partners with contempt, snarling repeatedly in a show of defiance. If it weren''t for the rider''s intervention, there would only be one dragon allowed on Dragonstone.


    Crack!


    The whip of the dragon tamer struck the ck scales with lightning speed, and the sound was particrly crisp.


    Cannibal growled in pain, its pupils dting in reluctance.


    Rhaegar''s face was as cold as ice. He said sternly, ��You''ve almost poached a dragon from Dragonstone again!��


    If it weren''t for his timely arrival, the baby dragon would not have survived. The Cannibal was furious and turned to re at the rider as if to say, ��That''s a wild dragon, not a native of Dragonstone.��


    Crack!


    The dragon whip cracked again, and Rhaegar''s tone was firm: ��It belongs to Dragonstone, not to the wild!��


    A dragon that flies to Dragonstone is a Targaryen dragon. This is an unchanging truth.


    Cannibal was hit again, its anger filling its brain. It roared and cursed.


    He said he wasn''t going to hit it with the whip, but he didn''t live up to what he said.


    The rtionship between the man and the dragon, which hadsted for more than ten years, was now facing its first emotional crisis.


    ��You just need to be beaten!�� Rhaegar''s eyes burned with ck fire, and he whipped the dragon again.


    ��Roar!��


    Cannibal, furious, carried its rider into the sky, plunging through the clouds in a chaotic rush.


    Vermithor and Silverwing: ...


    Thepanion dragons hid behind Dragonmont, watching the Cannibal''s wild antics from a distance.


    ��Cannibal, are you going through a rebellious phase?��


    Rhaegar clung tightly to the handlebar, unchained, and still wielded his dragon whip.


    Dragon and rider shared a deep bond, able to read each other''s minds.


    When the Cannibal craved the baby dragon, Rhaegar knew its intentions immediately.


    Dragons possess intelligenceparable to humans, each with a unique nature.


    Grey Ghost was naturally timid and shy and Vermithor was easily angered and prone to losing control. Cannibalism was intrinsic to the Cannibal.


    When he was young, Viserys had separate conversations with Rhaenyra and Rhaegar.


    ��The Targaryens'' control of the dragons is an illusion.��


    ��The nature of dragons is chaotic and disorderly.��


    ��Use the dragon well, but don��t rely on dragons too much.��


    Rhaegar had taken these words to heart. Today, he truly understood the nature of dragons.


    The Targaryens�� bond with their dragons allowed them to control them. But dragons, driven by their nature, would sometimes disobey their riders.


    For instance, the special rtionship between the Sheepstealer and Aemond. Aemond wouldmand it to go east, but the Sheepstealer would go west, perhaps seeking sheep or merely teasing its rider.


    ��Roar!��


    Cannibal ignored Rhaegar, flying up and down through the clouds, defying its rider. The instinct to eat dragons was in its blood and couldn''t be erased.


    Rhaegar wasn��t angry; heughed. ��Good fellow, then let��s race.��


    It was as if time had turned back eleven years to their first meeting. Cannibal soared with all its might, but Rhaegar held on tight. Man and dragon began topete. Rhaegar��s goal was clear: to tame the wild nature of the Cannibal.


    Eating dragons was instinctive to it, but it had to be controlled. With his dragon-taming whip and knowledge of restraint magic, Rhaegar was confident he could seed.


    Crack!


    The whip flew back and forth, asionally striking the dark scales. With eachsh, the Cannibal roared, its resistance growing more intense.


    Rhaegar did not relent, patiently waging this war between man and dragon. He never saw himself as the Cannibal��s master. The Cannibal was his partner, as described in the family chronicles of the Dragonlords.


    But!


    In their bond, there was a hierarchy. Rhaegar, as the rider, had to take the initiative.


    Cannibal must obey hismands. Hunting young dragons without permission was a serious offense. Rhaegar punished him severely, trying to change his bad habits.


    In the blink of an eye, a quarter of an hour passed.


    Cannibal panted heavily, slowing down and stabilizing. It still couldn��t shake off its rider. Just like eleven years ago, Rhaegar clung stubbornly.


    Rhaegar''s smile faded, and he tapped the dragon''s back with his whip, panting slightly. ��You can��t say no to me, partner.��


    From the first time he rode on its back, the Cannibal was destined to be ridden by him for the rest of its life.


    ��Roar...��


    Cannibal let out a low growl andnded heavily on Dragonmont.


    ��Roar?��


    From a cave halfway up the mountain, a ck and red baby dragon cautiously poked its head out, curious about the outside world.


    Grey Ghost flew silently,nding on the cave roof to observe the young dragon from above. No dragon was better at hiding than it.


    Everything is for survival.


    Dragonmont Peak.


    Cannibaly prostrate on the ground, panting heavily, its breath warming the dark rock.


    Rhaegar shed his Dragonborn form,bed his disheveled hair, and silently gazed at Vermithor and Silverwing circling overhead. This pair of dragons had lived on Dragonstone for years, theirbinedbat power formidable.


    For various reasons, the Cannibal and the elder dragons had a strained rtionship, often shing in recent years. Dragonstone was too small to amodate three adult dragons. Even the oldest, Vhagar, had moved away, now active in Driftmark and The Gullet.


    ��If there were a dragon horn, could itmand the dragons?�� Rhaegar wondered, raising his dragon whip and surveying the situation.


    Dragon-taming tools were highly effective, as anyone who had used them could attest.


    "I remember that the first dragonlords of ancient Valyria were just a group of shepherds on a penins," Rhaegar mused, looking down at the long whip in his hand.


    Crack!


    The whip made a crisp sound, and Rhaegar beamed. ��Cannibal, fly!��


    ��Roar!��


    Cannibal did not understand, but obeyed anyway, spreading its wings and leaping from the peak.


    At Rhaegar''smand, man and dragon approached Vermithor and Silverwing in the air.


    Crackling!


    The dragon whip was swung, some blowsnding on the dragons, others in mid-air. Rhaegar, like a shepherd, shouted, ��Move!��


    ��Roar!��


    Vermithor growled in protest, and Silverwing received ash. The two dragons were irritated but could not resist the threat of the dragon whip and Cannibal, obediently spreading their wings and soaring.


    Cannibal led, with the other two dragons following at a distance, entangled with each other.


    Rhaegar was enjoying himself, steering the dragons halfway up the mountain. Hemanded, ��Let''s go!��


    ��Roar!��


    Grey Ghost was startled. Just moments ago, it saw three dragons being whipped into submission.


    They seemed terrified of the whip.


    ��Huh?��


    The ck and red young dragon tilted its head, hesitating.


    Rhaegar nced at it, cracked the whip, and said in a threatening tone, ��Obey mymand!��


    The young dragon shivered in fear and quickly jumped out of the cave, pping its blood-red wings to keep up.


    Rhaegar finally had a chance to take a good look at the wild young dragon and eximed in surprise, ��Balerion?��


    The ck scales and red wing membranes made it look exactly like Balerion.


    ��Well, from now on, you''ll be a Targaryen dragon, and I''ll give you a great name.��


    Rhaegar''s eyes lit up as he pointed his dragon whip at the young dragon and decided, ��Since you were almost eaten by Silverwing and has scarlet wings, you''ll be called Iragaxys, The Bloodwing!��


    Iragaxys tilted its head and followed Grey Ghost obediently. It didn''t understand, not at all. It was just a baby dragon that had just hatched. Despite its size, it was still growing fast.


    Rhaegar was content, driving several dragons and the young dragon through the sky.


    Balerion name was too special. The Targaryens only had one dragon named Balerion. Iragaxys, also name of an ancient Valyrian god, whose duty was to greet death and guard the gates of hell, was a fitting name for the ck and red young dragon.


    It is a subordinate god of Balerion, the god of death, it was perfect name for the red and ck young dragon.

 Chapter 494: The Bastards of Hull

    Chapter 494: The Bastards of Hull


    Time flies, and the sun sets.


    Roar!


    On Dragonstone, a ck dragon streaked by, stirring up a salty sea breeze.


    Roar!


    Roar...


    Vermithor and Silverwing arrivedte, intimately entwined, leaping over the winding stone steps and the stone bridge.


    Atst, Grey Ghost pped its wings, clinging to the tail of the three dragons.


    ��Roar~��


    Iragaxys whimpered, lying on the back of the grey dragon and spreading its wings to feel the sea breeze. Grey Ghost red back at it, a hot stream of air shooting from its nostrils. The little one immediately became obedient, curling up into a ball.


    Satisfied, Grey Ghostnded on the cliff behind the Stone Drum Tower, its head held high.


    The little dragon, new to the ce and with no one to rely on, found sce in the shy yet dependable Grey Ghost. Despite its timid nature, Grey Ghost quickly formed a deep friendship with the young dragon under the threat of the dragon-taming whip.


    The sun was setting.


    Cannibal circled the Stone Drum Tower twice andnded in the same clearing on the cliff.


    Boom!


    The two dragons sunk their feet into the soil, sending a gust of wind through The nds.


    ��The day of herding dragons is finally over,�� Rhaegar yawned, climbing down from the dragon''s back.


    ��Roar...��


    Cannibal, in a foul mood, slumped to the ground. It had been driven hard all day and even had to catch its own fish to eat. This seemed to be its life now.


    ��Don��t be so down. There��s still a long way to go,�� Rhaegar approached the dragon��s head, smiling wickedly. ��You��re tired, that way you won''t feel like eating dragons.��


    Cannibal: ...


    The dragon turned its head away, ignoring its master.


    After a few idle words, Vermithor and Silverwing slowly descended, their ears and cheeks rubbing together affectionately.


    Rhaegar watched with a sigh. "No wonder Silverwing is such a fertile egg producer," he thought. With such a stable rtionship, it would be a shame not to produce more dragon eggs.


    Rhaegar sat down in front of the ck dragon''s snout, rubbed his hands over its hard scales, and whispered, "They are the future of the Targaryens."


    ��Huh?��


    The Cannibal nced at them and frowned.


    Rhaegar smiled and said nothing, his hand resting on the dragon whip at his waist. After a good whipping, the Cannibal was unusually calm, almost embarrassed by the dragons proximity.


    A bit odd, but not worth worrying about.


    Vermithor and Silverwing, like a devoted couple, chose to be obedient and apany Rhaegar and his dragon for the entire day. Rhaegar reveled in the role of ��dragon herder,�� delighting in the unique joy of managing five dragons together.


    As the sun set, the clouds turned a fiery red.


    The five dragons gathered on the cliff by the sea, resembling a collection of differently sized boulders.


    Cannibal crouched on the ground, its neck and head pressed against the grass,zily shaking its tail.


    Rhaegar rxed, leaning against the dragon''s snout, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the breeze on his face.


    Beyond the golden beach, the vast ocean stretched out as far as the eye could see, peaceful and serene.


    ��Roar?��


    Grey Ghost whinnied in confusion, moving to the edge of the cliff and stretching its neck to peer into the distance.


    Iragaxys, lying on the tail of its new big brother, tumbled to the ground with a thud as Grey Ghost shifted, rolling and crawling onto the grass.


    Rhaegar noticed themotion and opened his eyes, looking into the distance.


    At the end of the sunset, the sea reflected a shade of red.


    "Roar..."


    A piercing, shrill roar spread far and wide, with prating power.


    Rhaegar sat up straight, his eyes filled with doubt.


    A bloodthirsty dragon, long and scarlet like a snake, slowly soared towards the setting sun. On its back was a familiar figure.


    Rhaegar frowned. ��Daemon, what is he doing here sote?��


    His uncle, returning to Tyrosh, was making a courtesy call on his way through Driftmark. They had just parted in the morning, and now he was here in the evening.


    Boom!


    Caraxes pped itsrge wings andnded leisurely on the cliff, its slender body vertical.


    Daemon, dressed in ck, with his hands on the saddle, teased, ��I saw you herding the dragons earlier.�� He then looked directly at the dragons present, lingering on Vermithor and Silverwing.


    His nephew truly surprised him. Rhaegar could control dragons, whether they had owners or not. Is he an enhanced version of the Dragonpit Dragonkeepers?


    Rhaegar had no time for small talk. "What is it?" he asked, eager to return to King''s Landing with the young dragon.


    Daemon was about to reply when he noticed Iragaxys hiding under Grey Ghost''s wing. He looked slightly shocked. ��A young dragon I''ve never seen before.��


    Then he examined the young dragon��s appearance. ��Isn��t this just like a young Balerion?��


    Rhaegar said indifferently, "It''s a wild young dragon, just captured by me."


    ��A wild dragon? What a coincidence,�� Daemon��s eyes shed, thinking of a possibility. ��My scouts reported that a wild young dragon appeared in the Smoking Sea.��


    Rhaegar��s spirit lifted. ��What color?�� he asked hurriedly.


    ��Blue,�� Daemon replied truthfully.


    ��That��s it!�� Rhaegar pped his thigh, smiling innocently. The young dragons in his dream were one ck and one blue.


    Daemon frowned, uncertain. ��Do you know the news about the two young dragons?��


    The Smoking Sea''s wild young dragons are his source of information.


    Rhaegar pointed to his head and smiled. ��I had a dream.��


    Daemon was speechless.


    Rhaegar got up, patted his clothes, and said, ��It''s getting dark, let''s go.�� He climbed onto the back of his dragon.


    Daemon remained silent and turned Caraxes around. The two men had amon goal regarding the young blue dragon. They must not be left alone!


    ��Roar!��


    Cannibal shook its body lightly, ran towards the edge of the cliff, smashed a piece of it, and flew off.


    Facing the setting sun, Rhaegar unfurled his dragon whip.


    Grey Ghost jerked, grabbed Iragaxys in its mouth, threw it onto its back, and hurried to catch up.


    Roar!


    Roar...


    Vermithor and Silverwing reluctantly approached the edge of the cliff and leaped off, diving towards the ground.


    H!


    As soon as they neared the ground, their wings spread out, following the main group in undting flight.


    Over the waves of the sea, the dragons flew together.


    ...


    Driftmark, Hull.


    Though the night is still deep, the harbor bustles with activity. On a three-masted warship, the Sea Snake stands with his hands behind his back, surveying the deck.


    Shipwrights mend nks while sailors hang ropes to clean the barnacles and seaweed clinging to the hull.


    Ssh!


    A bucket of fresh water is poured onto the deck, apanied by the hesitant voice of a young man. "My lord, please move."


    The Sea Snake turns his head, frowning slightly.


    A half-grown boy with silver curls and naturally dark skin carries a bucket to wet the bloodstains on the deck.


    "Brother, I can''t keep up with the work."


    Before the Sea Snake can respond, another boy with simr features arrives, carrying a mop. His hair is buzz-cut, revealing silver roots, and his violet eyes are anxious as he scrubs the bloodstains. It seems as if the work is endless and food is scarce.


    The Sea Snake takes note and stops the older boy with curly hair. He asks casually, "Where are your parents?"


    The curly-haired boy, surprised by the Lord''s interest, answers carefully, "My grandfather is a boat builder. He''s too old to work now."


    "What''s your name?"


    "Addam," the boy replies, "I''m twelve years old. This is my younger brother, Alyn. He''s nine."


    Sea Snake looks at the two boys, his eyes reflecting an inexplicable light. Hearing their names and noting their features, he recalls a past that few know about.


    "These two children have Vryon blood," he thinks to himself.


    "Do a good job, and you''ll get a reward from the chief financial officerter. Just say I approved it," the Sea Snake says calmly, before walking away.


    Addam and Alyn exchange surprised nces, not expecting such kindness.


    "The Lord is a good man," Addam says, eyes full of admiration as he watches the figure depart.


    Alyn, still struggling with the mop, mutters, "The Lord is suddenly being so nice to us. Could it be that we are his bastards?"


    The brothers have no father and, not knowing his identity, can''t even im the bastard name of "Waters." They belong to the general popce without a surname.


    "Shh, keep your voice down," Addam warns.


    ...


    The Sea Snakepleted a circuit of the deck before stepping down from the ship.


    As he walked along the fish-scented harbor, he nced back. The two half-grown boys were still on deck, working diligently. Satisfied, he nodded and continued toward town.


    He passed an alley where a prostitute in revealing clothes was adjusting her cor as she emerged. The Sea Snake gave her a brief nce and then moved on.


    The prostitute was in, with big wavy x-colored hair, olive skin, and dark eyes. Her exotic style was her only distinguishing feature, marking her as a streetwalker. After the Sea Snake passed, she slunk back into the alley, soon emerging with a little girl who shared her hair and skin color.


    The little girl, in with a scar on her nose, yelled into the alley, ��You old bastard, you have no money to pay for my services!��


    A ragged fishmonger rushed out, cursing, ��Damn you, little bastard, how dare you curse me!��


    Suddenly, a gust of wind carrying the smell of ashes blew through the town.


    ��Roar!��


    A thunderous roar echoed, shaking everyone��s eardrums. The townsfolk looked up at the darkening sky. A pair of jet-ck wings blotted out the sun, and green eyes likenterns of the underworld glowed ominously. The ashden air felt like an invitation from an evil god.


    ��Roar...��


    More dragon shadows soared past. The fishmonger froze, forgetting his anger. The prostitute lifted her skirt and ran, dragging the fishmonger by his belt. Only the little girl with the scar stared at the sky, her dark eyes filled with reverence.


    ...


    Climax City.


    Rhaenys watched in amazement from the window as several dragonsnded outside the city.


    ��It��s Vermithor and Silverwing,�� Laena said, standing by the window, her tone full of surprise. These dragons usually slept in Dragonmont and rarely traveled.


    ��Don��t worry about it. Go greet your cousin first,�� Rhaenys said, regaining herposure and heading downstairs.


    In the castle hall, Rhaegar and Daemon walked side by side.


    Rhaenys met them at the foot of the stairs. ��Rhaegar, you brought several dragons.��


    ��Just a little test,�� Rhaegar replied, waving his hand dismissively. He then turned serious. ��There are dragons in the Smoking Sea, and I need the help of House Vryon.��

 Chapter 495: Digging a Pit for Daemon

    Chapter 495: Digging a Pit for Daemon


    Rhaenys remained calm, nced at the amused Daemon, and greeted her nephew. "Corlys is still outside. You men can talk among yourselves."


    "Then I won''t disturb you," Rhaegar replied sensibly, noting that he hadn''t eaten yet.


    ...


    "Brother, what brings you here?"


    Little Daeron eximed in surprise, trotting over like a greedy cat that just smelled fish. Ba and Rhaena followed close behind, their faces lighting up when they saw Rhaegar sitting at the table. They hurried over to chat, their voices sweet as honey.


    Surrounded by the children, Rhaegar sniffed his dragon stench and said helplessly, "You really need to stay away from me. Don''t be a stinking nest."


    "It''s okay, I''m not afraid," little Daeron giggled, sitting down on a nearby seat and scratching his head. He nudged Ba, who was about to sit down, with his butt.


    Ba red at him and raised her hand as if to p him.


    "Shhh!" Rhaena quickly intervened, pulling Ba back and giving up her seat to protect her brother.


    Rhaegar watched with interest, admiring Ba''s courage. Turning his head, he saw Daemon talking to a waiter and interrupted him. "Have you considered teaching Ba the martial arts?"


    Daemon looked back in confusion, waved the waiter away, and asked, "Like that stupid girl Hena?"


    "She''s not stupid!" Rhaegar insisted, rubbing Ba''s head. "She''s your heir and a dragon rider. Learning some martial arts will help her protect herself."


    Daemon snorted. ��As you wish. After all, both my daughters are adopted by you and Rhaenyra.��


    Rhaegar frowned slightly, observing Ba and Rhaena��s reactions. Rhaena smiled, watching her father and cousin talk, while Ba looked resentful, snorting and turning her head to ignore her father.


    Rhaegar nodded thoughtfully. ��Fine, I��ll oversee their education.��


    He sensed that his uncle didn��t seem to care much about the future of the two girls. It wasn��t that he didn��t love them, but he didn��t invest in their potential.


    ��I��ll have Rhaenyra teach her a lessonter. We can��t waste two good seeds,�� Rhaegar thought, teasing the children while secretly calcting his next steps.


    ...


    The food was served and the candlelight flickered.


    Rhaenys and Laena sat next to each other, eagerly inquiring about the herding of the dragons.


    The dragonkeepers at the Dragonpit couldmand the dragons to enter and exit the pit, feed, andfort them. However, whipping a dragon and driving several adult dragons to fly was unheard of.


    ��Rhaegar, is this the dragon-taming tool?�� Rhaenys asked, her elbows on the table as she examined the dragon whip in front of her nephew.


    The whip was ck, covered in barbs, with a handle made of Valyrian steel. It was anything but ordinary.


    Rhaegar didn��t hide his talent. ��The ancient Dragonlords of Valyria had many dragon-taming treasures, and this is just one of them.��


    Daemon''s eyes shed with interest. ��I saw in the library in Pentos that some Dragonlord families had a horn that controlled dragons.��


    ��That��s just a legend,�� Laena interjected with a hint of helplessness. ��The Valyria Freehold was destroyed overnight, and the biographies that remain are hard to distinguish between fact and fiction.��


    Daemon often visited the library during their years in the Free Cities, reading the stories left behind by the Dragonlords.


    Ignoring Laena''s skepticism, Daemon looked at Rhaegar with burning curiosity. When it came to knowledge of the Dragonlords, his nephew surpassed him. He wanted to know more.


    Feeling the others�� stares, Rhaegar thought about the purpose of his visit and said decisively, ��Yes! It may be more in the Smoking Sea, but it��s not easy for ordinary people to find.��


    ��The Smoking Sea is very dangerous,�� Rhaenysmented.


    Daemon smiled, his eyes shining. ��Can you find it? If you enter the Smoking Sea.��


    Rhaegar recalled his premonition dream and, after a moment, nodded. ��Yes.��


    He had the means: the Dragon Compass to search for young dragons, the ss candle with the [Reflections of the Moon] to see thousands of miles, and a rough map of The Lands of the Long Summer. Combining these three elements would minimize the dangers of the Smoking Sea.


    He was about to speak when the door opened with a bang.


    Sea Snake, dressed in a dusty suit, looked around and greeted them, ��Sorry, I was a littlete back from Hull.��


    ��Lord Corlys, I was looking for you,�� Rhaegar stood up to show his respect, his eyes firm. ��The Smoking Sea has revealed traces of a wild young dragon. I n to retrieve it and need the escort of House Vryon��s fleet.��


    The Sea Snake was stunned, thinking he had misheard. ��You want to take the fleet of House Vryon into the Smoking Sea?��


    The Smoking Sea was a high-risk area, avoided in his nine voyages.


    As the saying goes in Hull: ��A smart sailor will flee before the Storm.��


    Rhaegar acknowledged the danger, but insisted, "The young dragon cannot be abandoned, and the Smoking Sea contains a special herb that can alleviate my father''s symptoms."


    ��With all due respect, this is an unrealistic decision,�� the Sea Snake sighed, his voice tinged with helplessness. ��The Smoking Sea is treacherous, but if it��s for the king, House Vryon will not shy away.��


    House Vryon had recently strengthened ties with the royal family through marriage.


    ��However, our fleet is not enough to explore the Smoking Sea,�� the Sea Snake admitted, shaking his head. ��After the war with the Triarchy and Dorne, only one in ten of our ships remain. The few we have are tasked with monitoring the Greenblood River and cooperating with the Stepstones to secure the Narrow Sea. We can��t spare any ships for the Smoking Sea, which is fraught with danger.��


    Rhaegar rubbed his chin, pondering whether the Sea Snake��s words were entirely truthful.


    The Sea Snake took his seat, his expression resolute, and gestured for Rhaegar to join him at the table. It was clear he wasn��t lying��everyone desired a young dragon, but few could capture one. The risk outweighed the reward.


    Rhaegar sat down and exchanged a nce with Daemon, who was also deep in thought, contemting the untapped treasures in the Smoking Sea.


    ��Rhaegar, I have a suggestion,�� Rhaenys suddenly spoke up, her expression a bitplicated.


    Rhaegar was stunned and humbly replied, ��Aunt, please go ahead.��


    Rhaenys, encouraged by her nephew��s sincerity, straightened her back and temporarily smoothed the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. ��Rather than focusing on a young dragon, you should quickly secure your father��s throne and resolve the post-war hidden dangers.��


    Rhaegar hesitated, wanting to mention that one reason for exploring the Smoking Sea was to help his father. But he chose to listen to her advice instead.


    Seeing he didn��t interrupt, Rhaenys felt relieved. ��Your father relies too much on the Small Council, and many important matters are handled carelessly. You must be prepared to take over a mess.��


    Rhaegar nodded, having already noticed the Small Council��s ws and nning to address them once he became king.


    Rhaenys continued, ncing at Daemon to be tactful, ��What about your affair with Lady Jeyne? The entire Vale knows she��s pregnant.��


    Rhaegar��s lips were dry as he replied, ��I have re-drafted the Law of Exceptions with the Faith of the Seven.��


    ��Hmm?�� Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, intrigued.


    Daemon watched the exchange, raising his eyebrows and giving a mockingugh. Laena gave him a disapproving nce, prompting him to look away and drink his wine moodily.


    Rhaegar''s mind raced with the barrage of questions. A sh of inspiration struck him as he locked eyes with Daemon. He saw greed in his uncle''s eyes-Daemon wanted the young dragon and the treasure of the Smoking Sea.


    Rhaegar formted a n to extricate himself from the situation.


    The House Vryon fleet will send a detachment to patrol the Smoking Sea. If Daemon wants to enter the Smoking Sea, let him do so on a dragon. Tyrosh is full of mercenaries who will do anything for money.


    Rhaegar was bold and decisive. ��Then seal off the Smoking Sea so that no one can enter or leave,�� he dered.


    Daemon immediately took the bait. ��What if someone sneaks into the Smoking Sea and steals the baby dragon?��


    "I''ll set up patrols," Rhaegar replied, raising an eyebrow suggestively.


    Daemon was silent, not taking the task lightly.


    The Sea Snake was generous and readily agreed. ��I will send someone to block the Smoking Sea and ensure immediate reports if anyone enters.��


    ��Let��s proceed this way,�� Rhaegar decided with a p of his hands.


    Reflecting on the affairs in King��s Landing, he couldn��t help but feel a bit of a headache. ��I��ll have to fly back to King��s Landing.��


    Daemon sipped his wine, watching it drip down the side of the ss before finishing it in one gulp.


    ...


    Under a star-studded night sky at King''s Landing, within the Red Keep...


    Creak.


    The doors to the king��s chambers opened, and two Kingsguard nced back.


    Rhaegar emerged, rubbing his brow. "It��s been a long day," he said wearily, then turned to leave.


    The Kingsguard, ever vignt, responded, ��Good night, Prince.��


    Moments earlier, Rhaegar had been part of an important discussion in the royal chambers.


    The heir prince was about to be officially named!


    ...


    Princess��s Bedroom.


    Creak.


    The door quietly opened a crack, and a purple eye peered inside. It was quiet and dark.


    Outside, Rhaegar, nervous, slipped into the room quietly. He passed through the dimly lit hall, gently lifting the bead curtain to reveal arge carved bed. Rhaegar sighed in relief when he saw that the person in the bed was still asleep.


    ��Luckily, Rhaenyra is asleep,�� he thought. Discussing the matter of marrying more wives would be awkward.


    ��Rhaegar!��


    In the quiet room, a cold voice suddenly rang out. Rhaegar��s body stiffened, and he clenched his teeth.


    Click!


    A candle lit up the room, casting a hazy glow. Rhaenyra sat quietly on the edge of the bed, holding a candlestick, staring at him with her neatly dressed figure. Judging by her posture, she had been awake for a long time.


    Rhaegar was embarrassed, unable to move.


    Rhaenyra looked stern and pped the edge of the bed. ��Come here!��


    ��Okay,�� Rhaegar obediently stepped forward and sat down next to her, feeling the warmth of her firm presence behind him.


    He took the candlestick and looked around before asking, ��Where are the babies?��


    ��Sara is taking care of them,�� Rhaenyra replied, rolling her eyes in exasperation. ��What were you doing in my room in the middle of the night?��


    In the middle of the night, instead of sleeping, she heard the Cannibal growling and guessed that he had returned.


    Rhaegary on his side, resting his head on herp, wrapped in her red dress, his arms around her delicate waist. ��I��m going to be king,�� he said.


    ��Yes, and I��m going to be queen,�� Rhaenyra replied, lifting his chin with her white fingers and looking into his slightly mncholy purple eyes. ��Not happy?��


    ��It��s a lot of trouble,�� Rhaegar admitted.


    ��How many people would love to have trouble but don��t get it?�� Rhaenyra��s eyes softened, and she gave him an encouraging look. ��Think about Aegon and Aemond��s divisions and how to deal with Daemon after your ascension.��


    ��Daemon won��t get off lightly,�� Rhaegar muttered. ��I caught a wild baby dragon, and there��s another one in the Smoking Sea. I want to go, but they won��t let me.��


    Rhaenyra listened silently, stroking his face with her delicate hands. She knew Rhaegar wanted to go to the Smoking Sea to find something to cure his father.


    After a while, Rhaegar yawned and said he was sleepy. He hugged her soft waist and rubbed his cheeks against her, wanting to get a good night��s sleep first.


    ��Rhaegar.��


    ��Hm?��


    ��You came into my room in the middle of the night just to tell me a story?�� Rhaenyra��s voice was soft, and her eyes gleamed mischievously.


    ��Huh?�� Rhaegar opened his eyes. Red fabric covered his face, and all he could see was white. ��Who said you could sleep?�� she said.


    Rhaenyra put her hands behind her back, adjusting her red dress. Her legs clenched tightly, and Rhaegar��s eyes went dark.


    ��Are you afraid I��ll get angry?�� Rhaenyra raised her hips to find afortable position, breathing heavily. ��Serve your queen well!��


    ��Woof woof!�� Rhaegar whined, shaking his head in protest. He didn��t like this approach.


    ��No protest allowed!�� Rhaenyra was fierce, just as when she bullied him as a child, and she pushed his head under her red dress. Rhaegar��s eyes filled with tears.


    Lying on the side of the bed, he was kicked under it and forced to kneel. Rhaenyra was always so bossy, always bullying him when they were little, always doing strange and bad things.


    Rhaegar wiped away his tears on the white sheet and resigned himself to his task.


    ��Sss!�� Rhaenyra gasped, her earlobes turning rosy red, her waist arching involuntarily. One hand propped on the soft mattress, the other pressed against her red dress. Her legs squeezed tighter, and her eyes shed with a sense of revenge.

 Chapter 496: Ascending the Throne – Reforging the Iron Throne

    Chapter 496: Ascending the Throne �C Reforging the Iron Throne


    Time flies. It is now March.


    King''s Landing, Dragon Gate.


    The road is teeming with traffic, the path repeatedly rammed and rolled over, turning it into a muddy mess.


    A group of cavalrymen in fur coats led the way, escorting a convoy of rolling wheels. A tall carriage moved slowly through the ranks, flying an ancient banner with the head of a direwolf.


    ��Messenger from Winterfell!�� The captain of the cavalry rode up to the city gates and announced the identity of the caravan''s owner.


    ��Roar!��


    A dragon��s roar echoed from above.


    On the towering walls of the Dragon Gate, a magnificent golden dragon slumbered, looking down on the visitors with pride.


    ��Dragon!!��


    The northern cavalry team was terrified, even the usually stoic captain rode back nervously.


    On the city wall, two fearless officers exchanged nces and raised the g to signal: ��Let them pass!��


    After a long pause, the caravan from the north slowly entered King''s Landing. They had arrived with confidence but entered the city humbly.


    The young Cregan rode a tall horse with a huge sword strapped to his back, blending in with the caravan. The streets of King''s Landing were bustling with people, hurrying about and discussing various news.


    ��Look at these northerners. Their balls didn''t freeze off in the winter, but they almost got scared off by that golden dragon.��


    ��Shh! That��s a nobleman.��


    ��What are you afraid of? The kingdom is holding a coronation ceremony, and there have been nobles all over the city for the past two weeks.��


    Cregan listened carefully, analyzing the information he overheard.


    ��Let them through!��


    Suddenly, another shout came from the top of the city wall. Cregan''s face remained unchanged as he looked back at the procession behind the convoy.


    On the muddy road, a team of well-equipped and luxurious cavalry advanced. As they approached, a blue banner with a curved-moon eagle was raised high.


    ��Arryn of the Vale,�� Cregan muttered to himself, urging the caravan to speed up. They had all been invited to the coronation��or, as it was also known, the abdication of the old king.


    Red Keep


    ��Hurry, hurry, hurry! The guests are about to fill the ballroom. Get those refreshments and drinks served!�� Lyonel was flustered and red-faced, bustling about and giving orders to the servants.


    The servants were scurrying around, carrying tables and chairs and clearing away tes. Every corridor in the Red Keep was bustling with activity.


    ��Lord Lyonel, the throne hall is ready.��


    ��That��s good. This is a task the Prince specifically asked for.�� A thin line of sweat appeared on Lyonel��s forehead, which he quickly wiped away as he turned his head.


    He was met by the sight of Tnd Lannister, panting heavily and slightly disheveled, his neatlybed blond hair askew from exertion.


    Lyonel looked at him twice and gently reminded him, "Lord Tnd, you don''t need to push yourself so hard... it''s beneath you."


    "Oh, is that so?" Tnd looked down at his clothes and smiled ironically. "The ceremony is important, so I must give it my all."


    "You''re too kind." Lyonel was speechless and patted him on the shoulder.


    Tnd, moved by the gesture, turned and resumed his work with renewed determination.


    Just a month ago, the construction of the Prince''s Pce was finallypleted. After three years of reconstruction, Tnd had returned to King''s Landing to take over from the retired Sea Snake, reappointed as Master of Ships.


    In order to make a grand impression, he had set off a wave of excitement throughout the pce.


    Lyonel nced at him, then shouted at a servant, ��Hang the banner properly! We don��t want the noblediesughing at us.��


    It was Noon.


    Guests from all over the kingdom arrived one after another, entering the Red Keep to attend the session ceremony. Hundreds of important nobles gathered together, setting aside their old prejudices and waiting solemnly for the ceremony to begin.


    Erryk, themander of the Kingsguard, personally led the group of dignitaries to the back garden of the castle. Those observant enough noticed that it was a bit out of the way.


    Lord Jason of the Westends, a known busybody, counted the floors of the castle behind him with his hands sped behind his back.


    ��One, two...�� When he reached the third floor, he noticed arge hole in the wall, as if it had been bombed by a trebuchet. ��This is the throne hall!��


    Jason gasped, seeing the Iron Throne made of molten steel and swords through the gap. It was peculiar that the castle wall had such damage, and it was even stranger that the meeting was to be held in the throne hall.


    The nobles looked on in amazement, whispering among themselves.


    As everyone''s curiosity reached its peak, the Hand of the King arrived, sweating and shuffling. ��My lords, let us wee His Grace and the Prince!��


    The announcement drew everyone''s attention. They all turned to stare at the back of the Hand of the King.


    However, there was no one there.


    ��Lord Lyonel, where are His Grace and the Prince?�� Lord Jason frowned, ready toin about the absence of the main characters.


    Just as he began to speak,


    ��Roar!��


    A thunderous roar fell from the sky, resounding throughout most of King''s Landing. The Red Keep, being the closest, felt the sound waves the fastest. Jason��s eardrums vibrated painfully, and his knees almost gave way.


    ��Roar!��


    ��Roar!��


    The roars continued, each one like thunder on a clear day. Some people covered their ears and looked up.


    What they saw was not just the blue sky but dragons��swarms of them! A ck dragon circled overhead, contrasting sharply with the sky, which was now a mix of ck and blue. Against this two-tone backdrop, dozens of dragons of various colors flew by, as if a painter had sshed dye across the sky.


    ��Cannibal, Dracarys!�� a loud shout pierced the air, clear as a babbling brook.


    Rhaegar, dressed in a ck robe and holding Truefyre and the Dragon Whip, looked down.


    ��Roar!��


    Cannibal plunged into the clouds, releasing dark green Dragonfire that painted the sky before diving downward at high speed.


    "Roar!"


    Behind the man and the dragon, a dozen dragon shadows shed past.


    Vermithor, with its bronze scales and huge, mountain-like body, Silverwing, with green scales and silver-white wing membranes. Meleys and Caraxes, with their scarlet scales and varied forms, Syrax and Sunfyre, glistening like gold.


    And Dreamfyre, Sheepstealer, Tessarion, Grey Ghost, and many other dragons familiar to the continent.


    In addition, some dragons had tiny children attached to their tails: the young dragons Stormcloud, Tyraxes, Iragaxys, and Moondancer.


    A dozen dragons appeared together, following the flight path of the Cannibal and circling above the Red Keep, forming a magnificent disy.


    ��Vermithor,nd!��


    Viserys, sitting on his dragon with his face flushed, panted as he gave his orders. Vermithor broke away from the group, circled the towering Maegor Holdfast, and slowly descended.


    Boom.


    The dragon''s wings closed, sending a wave of heat. Viserys climbed off the dragon, waved away the advancing Kingsguard, and looked at the stunned nobles. He took two shaky steps and smiled brightly.


    "Wee, lords, to the ceremony. Thank you foring to the Great Hall. You haven''t missed the dragon event of the century."


    "Roar!"


    As soon as the words fell, the dragons in the sky roared. Viserys slowly closed his eyes, opened his arms, and embraced the glory of the dancing dragons.


    Inspired by their king, the nobles looked up and saw the dragons soar. Some, superstitious, suspected that the royal family was trying to awaken the sleeping Fourteen mes and restore the glory of the Freehold.


    Rhaegar stood up straight in his saddle, his voice low as he looked out at the clouds and mist. "Cannibal,nd!"


    In the sunlight, the man and the dragon looked like gods incarnate. The dragons roared in unison, lowering themselves to the ground and choosing a suitable spot tond.


    Hoo-hoo!


    The Cannibalnded first, sending a wave of heat that blew up the skirts of the noblewomen. Rhaegar did not look away, jumping off the back of the dragon along its jet-ck wings.


    Syraxnded nearby. Rhaenyra, with her silver hair tied back and wearing a long ck dress, hugged two swaddled babies.


    "Princess!�� Ba ran down from the back of Moondancer and took one of the babies in her arms. Rhaena and Daeron, riding Tessarion, arrived a momentter and took the other baby.


    Meanwhile, the Targaryen riders dismounted their dragons one after the other. The elders, Rhaenys and Daemon, and the younger generation of Aegon, Hena, and Aemond. All the members of the Targaryen royal family were present, and eleven pairs of purple eyes swept the crowd.


    Rhaegar and Rhaenyra walked over to Viserys and whispered, ��Father.��


    ��Let''s go.��


    Viserys smiled, his eyes filled with indescribable joy, and he took his


    eldest son''s hand. Rhaegar, supporting his father, walked solemnly towards the group of princes and advisers. Rhaenyra held hands with her husband, looking unflinchingly into the eyes of every nobleman who gazed her way.


    The nobles respectfully bowed their heads and voluntarily made way. Rhaenys, Daemon, and the other children followed as the father and son, brother and sister, walked forward step by step.


    Lyonel announced from the side, ��The ceremony of session is officially held!��


    When the royal family reached the front, Erryk and Arryk, the two brothers, stepped forward holding two crowns. They knelt and handed them over.


    Viserys nced sideways. The crowns were the Valyrian steel crown used by the conqueror and the gold crown he had inherited from the Old King. Without hesitation, he took the Valyrian crown, studded with rubies, and handed it to the High Septon, who was already waiting.


    The High Septon, pale and trembling, took the crown and said in a quavering voice, "In the name of the Seven, I proim..."


    He continued with a lengthy blessing, bidding farewell to King Viserys Targaryen I, who was abdicating, and weing Rhaegar Targaryen I, who would seed him.


    Rhaegar remained silent as the High Septon anointed him with holy oil. When the moment came to ce the crown on his head, Rhaegar drew his sword and gently pushed the High Septon��s arm aside. In a calm voice, he said, ��There''s no need to trouble the Seven. I''ll do it myself.��


    With that, he took the conqueror��s crown in one hand. Ignoring the slightly angry looks from the gathered nobles, Rhaegar held the crown above his head. After a brief pause, he ced it on his head.


    Silence. Complete silence, as if the air had frozen.


    Erryk ced one hand on his chest, pounded it, and shouted, ��Wee, King Rhaegar I of House Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm! Take your ce!��


    In the next moment, a thunderous apuse erupted from the nobles, their eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.


    ��Long live Your Grace!��


    ��Long live Rhaegar the First!��


    The cheers were loud and clear. Rhaegar remained calm, pointed his sword at the throne hall above his head, and spoke in High Valyrian: ��Cannibal, Dracarys!��


    Boom! Boom! The Cannibal��s wings touched the ground, and its enormous body towered over the other dragons. It crawled forward until its head blocked the sunlight from the nobles�� heads. Lowering its neck, the dragon aimed its snout at the Iron Throne.


    ��Roar!��


    A jet of dark green Dragonfire shot out, and the Iron Throne began to melt. Before everyone��s eyes, the Iron Throne, which had ruled Westeros for over a hundred years, dripped and melted into a pool of molten iron.


    Rhaegar looked up, the ruby in his hand releasing a brilliant light, and silently recited the Dragonstone spell.


    Zla...


    The red-hot iron water gradually changed shape, cooling and solidifying into a throne with a long staircase. A group of smiths appeared in time, wielding hammers and reshaping the appearance of the Iron Throne.


    Rhaegar took Viserys��s hand, looked into hisplex purple eyes, and whispered, ��A Throne is a Throne. Even an Iron Throne shouldn''t make it difficult for the person sitting on it.��


    Viserys was transfixed, his eyes gradually turning red, and he choked, ��My child.��


    ��You are still the king. I am only ruling in your stead.�� Rhaegar gave a confident smile and pointed Truefyre at Daemon and the others standing next to him.


    Daemon nced at his brother and stepped forward. He knelt between his brother and nephew, lowered his head, and said, ��Your Grace!��


    He didn��t know who he was addressing.


    Rhaegar smiled down at him, Truefyre resting on his shoulder. He whispered, ��Daemon Targaryen, in the name of Rhaegar the First, I name you Prince of Tyrosh and Magister of the Narrow Sea.��


    Daemon looked down, then up at his nephew. ��Yes, Your Grace.��


    Rhaegar helped him to his feet and then proceeded to bestow titles on Aegon and Aemond: Prince of the Stepstones and Warden of the Narrow Sea, Lord of Stonehelm and Warden of the Sea of Dorne.


    Finally, his gaze fell on Rhaenyra. Rhaegar took the golden crown from Arryk��s hands without a word. Rhaenyra looked back at him, her eyes rippling with emotion. Ba and Rhaena, each holding a swaddled infant, stood closest to the throne, witnessing the golden crown being ced on their foster mother��s head.


    Rhaegar stepped back and, with each rising step, dered, ��I, Rhaegar Targaryen the First, proim the coronation ceremony aplete sess. House Targaryen is ushering in a new future!��


    As soon as he finished speaking, the dragons stretched their necks and roared loudly in unison.

 Chapter 497: The Rise of the New Generation

    Chapter 497: The Rise of the New Generation


    127 AC


    Early spring, early morning.


    In the towering Red Keep, people bustled about with purpose.


    ��Brother, hurry up!��


    In the courtyard, a little boy with silver hair and purple eyes hid behind a wooden post, waving urgently toward the stables.


    ��Shh, be quiet.��


    Behind the trough in the stable, another boy''s head poked out, warning him in a serious tone. He nced around at the crowd before running to his brother.


    As soon as he got close, he punched his younger brother in the stomach with his small fist.


    ��Ouch!��


    The little boy cried out, tears welling up in his eyes.


    The older brother red at him, looking every bit like a little lord, and said sternly, ��Aemon, we��re going to the Dragonpit to get a dragon egg for our brother. Don��t mess this up.��


    ��I won''t, don''t hit me again,�� Aemon retorted angrily, wiping away his tears. Despite the pain, he didn��t cry or make a fuss. He was stronger than most children.


    Baelon ignored him and scanned the crowded courtyard for a suitable path. He knew exactly what his little brother was like��just like his dragon, a bit of a troublemaker.


    Seeing that his older brother was ignoring him, Aemon puffed up his cheeks and marched through the crowd.


    ��Aemon, don��t let anyone see you,�� Baelon hissed, trying to pull him back.


    Aemon shook his head and said angrily, "If we''re getting out of the Red Keep, it''s because Father agrees."


    It was just a little trick of their father.


    Baelon��s cute face fell at this realization, and he followed his determined little brother in silence. Aemon was right.


    The two silver-haired boys walked through the front courtyard, holding hands as they navigated through the adults�� skirts. Remarkably, the two boys looked almost identical. They had the same height, build, and fairplexion.


    To tell them apart, one had to look closely at their expressions. The older brother had clear eyes and moved with purpose, while the younger brother��s eyes darted around, full of liveliness and intelligence.


    ��Drink!��


    ��Prince, be careful.��


    As they passed by the martial arts arena, the nging sound of metal shing filled the air. Baelon stopped and turned his head to see a gathering of nobles watching a martial arts performance.


    ��Let��s go have a look!�� Seeing his brother''s expression, Aemon dragged him into the crowd without hesitation.


    The nobles, noticing the two little ones, humbly made way for them.


    In the center of the crowd, two figures were dueling.


    Criston Cole, dressed in white cotton armor and wielding a hammer, smiled as he swung his weapon with sharp precision. His opponent was a young man with a ck eye patch and silver hair.


    The duel quickly turned fierce. Cole used a familiar move to break his opponent''s shield, gradually reducing his mobility.


    Swish!


    The young man moved swiftly, resisting the hammer twice, then discarding the broken shield and dancing with his sword. In a blink, Cole swung his hammer, but he couldn��t dodge in time. The young man''s eyes were sharp, his sword pointed directly at Cole''s neck.


    Cole made a slight movement, and a trickle of blood oozed out.


    ��Oh, Uncle Aemond has won!�� Aemon pped his hands and cheered.


    Baelon tugged his brother away, smiling, ��Okay, let��s go to the Dragonpit.��


    The two children, small and nimble, quickly slipped out of the crowd.


    In the middle of the arena, Cole looked helpless. He dropped his il and panted, ��Well done, Prince. You��ll win the tournament soon.��


    Aemond��s eyes were cold as he lightly withdrew his de. ��I don��t care about any tournament,�� he said indifferently.


    Turning his head, he noticed the retreating backs of the two boys, smiling and frowning at the same time. ��My dear nephews have run away again.��


    Cole was even more helpless, unable to say anything.


    In the blink of an eye, six years had passed, and the Prince had grown up at a tremendous rate. He could no longer keep up with the prince in martial arts or intellect.


    ng!


    Aemond casually dropped his one-handed sword and turned to walk toward Maegor��s Holdfast. ��I��m going to find my brother. I heard that Rhaenyra has given birth again.��


    ...


    On the Road


    The two children sessfully escaped the Red Keep and boarded a wheeled carriage driven by the Kingsguard.


    Ser Steffon, d in a ck robe, patiently advised, ��The ride will be fast, so the two little Princes should sit tight.��


    ��Don��t worry, Ser,�� Baelon assured him.


    ��Full speed ahead. My whip is hungry,�� Aemon dered eagerly.


    Steffon sighed but had no choice. He drove the horses forward at a brisk pace.


    Inside the carriage, the two boys exchanged a nce.


    Baelon watched as his brother fumbled with something in his pants and couldn''t help but ask, ��How did you manage to steal that?��


    Aemon raised his little face, looking for praise. In his chubby hand, he held a long ck whip. The handle was made of Valyrian steel, engraved with strange inscriptions. It was a dragon whip used to herd dragons.


    Baelon snatched the whip from him and asked, ��You stole the dragon whip from our father? This is a rare treasure. How did you manage to do it?��


    Aemon crossed his arms proudly. ��Mother was inbor, and Father was too busy to pay attention to us. So, I took it.��


    ��Awesome!�� Baelon eximed, excitedly hugging the dragon whip to his chest. He decided to confiscate it immediately.


    ...


    The Princess''s Bedroom


    In the familiaryout, several experienced maids gathered around a birthing chair. Rhaenyray in the arms of a plump maid, covered in sweat, gritting her teeth and gathering her strength. In front of her, the maids held basins of water and wrung out towels.


    The scene shifts to the corridor outside the bedroom. Rhaegar hunched over, his head down, his back against the wall, looking like a child who had made a mistake. Six yearster, the boy had be a young man. Rhaegar��s face was more handsome than ever, his tall and slender figure exuding a noble air of superiority. His silver hair naturally fell over his shoulders, and his purple eyes were clear and slightly sad. Servants passing by, male or female, would steal a nce at His Grace.


    ��Ahem.��


    A few light coughs interrupted his thoughts. Rhaegar turned his head and asked, confused, ��Father, what''s wrong?��


    Closer to the door, Viserys sat in a wheelchair, his legs covered by a nket. After stepping down, he had gradually rxed. Time had been kind to the former king. Viserys, who had put on weight and had a bit of a receding hairline, said reassuringly, ��Don''t worry, Rhaenyra will be fine. This isn��t her first time giving birth.��


    He leaned forward, looking past his eldest son to see a little one. Rhaegar forced a smile and followed his father��s line of sight. A baby boy in a little outfit sat on the ground, staring nkly at the cracks in the brickwork. The baby boy looked to be about two or three years old. He had short tinum hair, violet blue eyes, and a pale, chubby face. At this moment, the little one was sitting on the ground, his short legs apart, holding a dark red dragon egg in his arms.


    Rhaegar shook his head and sighed, then bent down to gently stroke his son''s head. ��Maekar, why aren��t you ying with your brothers?��


    Maekar, born in the summer of 124 AC, was the third child and third son of Rhaenyra and Rhaegar. He had a different appearance from his parents and two older brothers, with slightly different hair and eye colors.


    Maekar lowered his head, his little body like a ball, his delicate face tinged with sadness, his chin resting on the dragon egg. Hearing his father��s question, the little one tilted his head and said honestly, ��They think I��m stupid and don��t want to y with me.��


    Rhaegar was speechless, silentlyforting his youngest son. ��They have a mission, and you��re still too young.��


    ��Oh.�� Maekar turned his head back and continued to stare at the brick gap.


    Rhaegar stood up helplessly and gave his father a look of regret. The younger son was good in every way, except that he was a bit of a loner. He clearly wanted to be part of his two older brothers but was always too timid to join in.


    Viserysughed. ��There��s going to be another little one in the house soon, and Maekar will have someone to y with.��


    Just then, a scream came from the bedroom.


    ��Ah!��


    The three of them twitched their ears and shuddered at the sound. Rhaegar lowered his head again and prayed silently for everything to be all right. Maekar closed his eyes, hugged the egg, and whispered, ��A sister, a sister.��


    Rhaegar kicked him lightly on the butt and red at him. ��You ungrateful little brat, make a wish outside the delivery room.��


    ��Ahhh!�� Suddenly, another scream rang out, even more piercing than thest. Then, a child��s cry was heard.


    ��Waa waa waa...�� There was a flurry of activity in the bedroom, and the fat maid��s honest voice could be heard through the door.


    ��Great, it��s a healthy girl.��


    Outside the door, the three of them heaved a sigh of relief, and the weight on their hearts lifted. Rhaegar��s forehead broke out in a cold sweat, and a smile reappeared on his face.


    Maekar eximed, ��It��s a sister, it��s a sister.��


    Bang! Another light kick.


    ...


    The Boardroom.


    Creak.


    The door opened, revealing a spacious room with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a wide view. A desk was ced in front of the window, and sunlight bathed the documents on the desk.


    Purr...


    Two young people sat behind the desk. A beautiful maiden with silver-gold curls, dressed in a beige skirt, leaned back in her chair, her eyes slightly closed, face flushed from the sun, and head resting against the chair. She was dozing off.


    Beside her, a young man with messy silver hairy on his back, arms stretched out in front of him, sleeping soundly. The siblings had a pile of papers in front of them, and the breeze from the window rustled the pages.


    Creak! Creak!


    Aemond stood in the doorway, gritting his teeth and staring at the scene, his clenched fists making a loud cracking sound. He mumbled a few words to himself and then walked over to the two with heavy footsteps.


    Three chairs were behind the desk. The siblings each upied one, leaving an empty seat in the middle. Aemond didn��t bother asking permission and sat down. He moved the papers in front of his sister Hena and began to read them with a serious expression.


    Since Rhaegar ascended the throne, he had reimed most of the power from the Small Council. The advantage was increased efficiency, but the downside was dealing with every little detail. His philosophy was clear: ��If I''m notfortable, no one else should be either.��


    After a year in office, Rhaegar had dragged his three younger siblings into the council hall to help him read petitions. The kingdom belonged to the entire Targaryen family, and he couldn''t suffer alone. They should all experience what it was like to be a king.


    ��Ohh~��


    Hena opened her eyes and looked around in confusion as she heard the sound of rapid writing. At that moment, the Master of Coin, Lyman, finished some paperwork and walked past the siblings without a word.


    Aemond continued writing with his quill and, without looking up, asked, ��Lord Lyman, what''s thetest news?��


    Lyman, a bit surprised, responded slowly, ��Prince, shouldn''t you ask Tormund for information?�� He was not the Master of Whisperers, after all.


    Aemond paused for a moment, his one eye sharp as a knife. ��Tormund reports directly to the king and should not exceed his authority.�� Returning to his original question, he asked, ��What news from Driftmark? Is Daeron doing well there?��


    ��Of course. Prince Daeron is the cupbearer of the Sea Snake and apanies him on every voyage,�� Lyman replied, satisfied with his answer. ��As for Driftmark, I heard there was some trouble, apparently over the session.��


    ��Really? I think it��s more than that.�� Aemond, with a cold face, took a document from the file and deliberately pped it on Aegon��s ear.


    Bang!


    Aegon woke up instantly, panicking and wiping his mouth for saliva. ��What��s wrong? Is Rhaegar here?��


    The child was terrified.


    Aemond gave him a disdainful nce and moved the document in front of Lyman, revealing the side with the writing. Lyman bent down to read it, squinting his eyes.


    The document was from House Vryon on Driftmark. The sender was not Corlys, the Sea Snake, but one of his nephews. There were five handprints on the letter, one for each Vryon.


    The content read:


    ��The House Vryon has a direct male line of session, and the female heir is not in line with tradition. We hope that Rhaegar Targaryen I will make a decision.��


    At the end of the letter, it specifically mentioned Rhaegar''s session as being superior to that of his predecessor, Rhaenyra.


    Such words were both bold and presumptuous.


    Hena��s eyes were vacant as she muttered, ��Is the Sea Snake in trouble?��

 Chapter 498: Hatchlings and Young Dragons

    Chapter 498: Hatchlings and Young Dragons


    At that moment, a chariot rumbled out of Silk Street and up the steep incline of Rhaenys'' Hill to the grand entrance of the Dragonpit.


    "Aemon, quickly, out of the chariot now!"


    As the chariot stopped in the square, Baelon flung open the door and leapt out with the urgency of a discharged cannonball.


    "Prince, you-"


    Steffon''s frown deepened, turning into a visible sign of concern. His features, already marked by early maturity, took on a sharper edge of distress.


    "Ser, I''ll catch upter."


    Without waiting, Aemon jumped from the chariot, his small legs hitting the ground with a thud.


    Steffon reached out to stop him, but his hand paused mid-air, and his voice carried a tint of resignation. "Alright, see youter."


    The young princes, one chasing the other, were brimming with youthful exuberance.


    Erryk had always remarked how children were such easy charges, saying "Your Grace was so well-mannered in his youth..."


    The high-spirited pair, both plump and childlike, disappeared into the depths of the Dragonpit.


    Over the years, the Dragonpit had undergone significant transformations.


    The bronze gates now stood permanently open, and the solid roof had been reced by an open framework that resembled the vast scale of a coliseum.


    This renovation was designed to give the dragons the freedom to fly unhindered.


    With the roof no longer a barrier, dragons could exit the Dragonpit whenever they wished, alleviating concerns about intruders or obstacles that might trap them within.


    Now, the Dragonpit glowed under the illumination, its ck stone floor reflecting like obsidian.


    Baelon looked up, awe-struck, at the newly installed roof��attice of iron chains sprawling like a spiderweb across the sky.


    These chains were both a constraint and a precaution, intended to prevent dragons from escaping and wreaking havoc upon King''s Landing.


    During periods of calm, theyy across the former stone ceiling, ready to be deployed.


    From above, a piercing roar echoed, tinged with astonishment.


    Baelon turned just in time to see a young green dragon, its wings a vibrant contrast against the ironwork.


    The dragon struggled on the iron bridge, its wings pping desperately like a butterfly ensnared.


    Aemon darted toward it, calling out with glee, "Trickster,e here!"


    Without hesitation, the dragon plunged down the long bridge like a gre.


    Watching from afar, Baelon couldn''t shake the feeling that the dragon''s flight was dangerously controlled, its wings snapping shut as if in a final, desperate dive.


    A cloud of dust erupted as the dragon crashed to the stone floor, its long tail twitching in distress.


    "Tsk, tsk."


    Shaking his head, Baelon turned away, a mixture of concern and dismay on his face.


    A simple-minded dragon, indeed.


    His father had spected that the dragon''s long time in the eggshell might have dulled its wits.


    Aemon, brimming with delight despite the choking dust, seized the young dragon by the neck and nuzzled his face against its scaled head. ��Trickster, did you miss me?��


    ��Roar!��


    The green dragon, Trickster, feigned death with its tongue lolling out, then rolled over and scrambled to its feet.


    Aemon��s grin widened as he mbered onto Trickster��s back. ��You rascal, take me for a ride!��


    ��Roar?��


    Trickster shook its head vigorously, trotting along slowly instead of taking flight, clearly reluctant.


    Annoyed, Aemon gave the dragon a yful smack on the back.


    Both the boy and the dragon were of simr age, born only a day apart, and were still under six years old. Trickster, having spent its life in the Dragonpit, was asrge as a fine war horse and perfectly capable of carrying a child through the air.


    The pair, both spirited and yful, engaged in a friendly tussle.


    Baelon, observing, couldn��t help but doubt his brother��s intelligence for a moment.


    An elderly Dragonkeeper approached, his face lined with age and caution. ��Prince, how may I assist you?��


    With a stern expression, Baelon replied in High Valyrian, his pronunciation precise and his fluency evident, ��My mother is giving birth. I��m here to choose an egg for my brother.��


    The old Dragonkeeper nodded and, leaning on his walking stick, motioned toward the greenhouse. ��Follow me.��


    Baelon, carrying himself with the dignity of a young lord, followed the Dragonkeeper through the tunnel leading to the greenhouse, while other Dragonkeepers kept a watchful eye.


    As they walked, Baelon��s attention was drawn to a particrly dark dragon pit. Its narrow, elongated shape was obscured by shadows, making it seem even more mysterious.


    Ssss~


    A faint light flickered within the darkness, apanied by a low, ominous sound.


    Intrigued, Baelon��s curiosity was piqued, and he stared intently as the light grew brighter.


    Suddenly, an indistinct shape emerged from the darkness, and a pair ofrge, menacing amber eyes opened wide.


    Crashing!


    Chains rattled violently as a ck, dragon-like figure surged forward.


    ��Roar!��


    The roar was fierce and brutal, but the dragon was still restrained by its chains, only able to spew a cloud of ck smoke and Dragonfire into the air.


    ��Wow!��


    Baelon��s eyes widened in astonishment at the sudden spectacle.


    ��Step back and be quiet!��


    The old Dragonkeeper��s face darkened with anger. He stood protectively in front of the young prince, banging his cane on the ground and shouting toward the dragon pit.


    Crack!


    The chains groaned as the dragon retreated into the cave, vanishing from view.


    The old Dragonkeeper sighed with relief and turned to Baelon. ��Remember, do not approach the dragon pit without permission.��


    Baelon hesitated. ��It didn��t seem hostile, though.��


    The old Dragonkeeper��s expression remained serious. ��Always follow the rules. Your Grace will arrange for you to select a young dragon to tame.��


    Baelon scratched his head thoughtfully as the old Dragonkeeper led the way.


    The old Dragonkeeper added muttering, ��Just like your brother.��


    ...


    Red Keep, Princess''s Bedroom.


    The newborn��s cries filled the room, their piercing rity a testament to new life.


    In the hallway, Rhaegar, his father, and his son exchanged smiles of shared joy.


    Creak


    As Rhaegar paced nervously, a maid with a sweaty brow pushed open the door.


    ��How is it?�� Rhaegar blurted out, his excitement barely contained.


    The maid, catching her breath, replied, ��The Princess wishes to see you.��


    Rhaegar��s face lit up with a smile as he swiftly entered the room.


    Inside, the maids worked diligently, restoring order to the room after the birthing. The urgency had faded, and Rhaegar lifted the bead curtain to find Rhaenyra resting on the birthing chair, holding their newborn.


    ��You��re here,�� Rhaenyra said, her voice soft butced with joy.


    Rhaegar returned the smile and approached, kneeling beside the chair. He gently brushed the sweat-drenched hair from Rhaenyra��s face. ��Are you alright?��


    ��Yes, everything went smoothly,�� she assured him with a weak but genuine smile, then presented the swaddled baby with a hint of pride. ��Look, it��s a girl.��


    Rhaegar leaned in to inspect the baby, her tiny, pristine face just visible. But his focus was more on Rhaenyra. His hand grazed her damp, sweat-soaked gown, and he could feel the heat radiating from her.


    ��What a beautiful girl, a noble little princess,�� he praised sincerely, enveloping Rhaenyra in a tender embrace as he gently cradled both mother and daughter.


    Rhaenyra��s eyes sparkled as she rested her cheek on his shoulder. ��Don��t worry, I��m happy and it was worth every moment.��


    Without hesitation, Rhaegar kissed her sweaty forehead, a gesture of deep affection.


    Rhaenyra��s eyshes fluttered, and in that instant, the pain of childbirth seemed to vanish.


    Peck!


    She responded with a soft kiss on his lips.


    Rhaegar, momentarily taken aback, then smiled warmly. ��Do you want me to name her?��


    ��Of course,�� Rhaenyra said, raising her chin proudly.


    ��Then I suppose I��ll need toe up with a fitting name,�� Rhaegar dered, assuming the role of the namer with a yful air. He pondered dramatically, asionally lifting the swaddling cloth to gaze at the baby��s features.


    Time passed, and Rhaenyra��s anticipation grew, her face reflecting her impatience.


    Rhaegar finally announced, with a touch of grandiosity, ��Visenya, named after the greatest female warrior in our family.��


    ��Good!�� Rhaenyra��s eyes sparkled with excitement. She was eager to adopt the name for their daughter.


    Rhaegar grinned.


    But as her initial joy faded, Rhaenyra realized Rhaegar��s yful intent and pouted. ��I��ve always wanted a girl, why did you take so long to name her?�� She turned away, clutching the swaddling clothes with mock sulkiness.


    Rhaegar, amused, gently yed with the baby��s soft cheeks.


    He nced at her features: silver-blonde hair at the roots and tightly shut eyes.


    As expected, their daughter would grow to embody the Targaryen beauty��long silver-blonde hair and violet eyes, a true reflection of mother.


    Creak!


    The door swung open, disrupting the intimate moment shared by the family of three.


    ��Father, we��re back!��


    Aemon burst into the room, his excitement palpable.


    ��Shh! Don��t disturb Mother and the baby��s rest,�� Baelon admonished, his tone sharp. He carried a stove-shaped incubator, and behind him, Viserys, in a wheelchair, and Maekar, followed.


    Viserys rubbed his forehead wearily. ��I couldn��t keep the little ones away.��


    ��It��s alright,�� Rhaegar said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. ��They��re just enthusiastic.��


    Aemon shrank slightly, sensing his father��s displeasure.


    Baelon, moreposed, approached and opened the incubator to reveal a steaming green dragon egg. His face was alight with anticipation. ��We selected this dragon egg for our new sibling.��


    ��Oh?�� Rhaenyra, though exhausted, propped herself up to take a look. Seeing the familiar dragon egg, she praised, ��Very good, that��s a splendid choice.��


    Baelon nodded earnestly. ��I searched for a long time to find this one. I��m sure our brother will love it.��


    ��Actually...�� Rhaenyra started, trying to correct her eldest son��s assumption.


    At that moment, Maekar, who had been daydreaming, said calmly, ��It��s a sister, not a brother.��


    ��A sister?�� Baelon��s face fell as he nced down at the baby in the swaddling clothes.


    Aemon��s reaction was even more dramatic. His face mirrored Baelon��s disappointment, and he eximed, ��It��s a sister!?��


    They had been expecting a brother, and Aemon, in particr, had been eagerly anticipating a new baby brother. Maekar��s presence didn��t count in his expectations.


    Maekar��s eyes widened as he fixed his gaze on Aemon. ��It��s a sister.��


    Aemon, visibly shaken, quickly replied, ��Alright, alright, it��s a sister.��


    Maekar, satisfied, settled back in his chair, eager to see what his new sister looked like.


    The youngest had clearly been busy, managing to procure a basket, ce the dark red dragon egg inside, and cover it with a nket borrowed from their grandfather.


    As the siblings finished admiring the newborn Visenya, Rhaegar announced firmly, ��Alright, everyone out.��


    ��We haven��t seen enough yet,�� Aemon protested, his little pout visible.


    Bang!


    Rhaegar swiftly kicked him out, grabbing him by the hair and tossing him out of the room. ��Get out now! If you��re not gone in three seconds, you��ll all be reporting to Grand Maester Munkun.��


    Even Maekar, who had been silent, scrambled to leave, clutching his basket. As he passed his grandfather, he carefully ced the nket back over his cold legs.


    Viserys, feeling exhausted, handed the swaddling clothes to Rhaegar. ��I��m tired too. I��ll rest while you take care of things.��


    ��Father, I didn��t mean for you to...�� Rhaegar began, but his father��s exhaustion was evident.


    ��Stay and look after Rhaenyra,�� Viserys said, his fatigue apparent from the ordeal of his daughter��sbor.


    Rhaegar acquiesced, and Erryk helped his father back to his room. Since his abdication, Viserys had been residing in Harrenhal for its more favorable climate and only asionally visited King��s Landing. The undergroundva at the Isle of Faces had been increasing, enhancing the hot springs�� restorative effects.


    Bang!


    The door closed behind them, and Rhaegar turned back to find Rhaenyra cradling the baby and humming a luby. She nced at him sideways, and they exchanged warm smiles.

 Chapter 499: Quarreling Between Brother and Sister

    Chapter 499: Quarreling Between Brother and Sister


    Evening fell over the Council Hall, casting a warm glow across the room. Aemond''s face remained impassive as he sifted through a mountain of petitions on his desk, his long hair shimmering like silver-gold in the setting sun.


    On either side of him, his siblings went about their tasks. Hena, resting her chin on her hand, idly toyed with a sapphire, her gaze asionally drifting to the closed door. The sight only deepened her boredom.


    Aegon, sprawledfortably in a chair at the desk, was more interested in entertaining himself than in the matters at hand. When the maid arrived with dinner, Aegon seized her hand and began a flirtatious conversation. ��Why isn��t there any veal? Is the Red Keep so impoverished?��


    The maid offered no response, her difort evident. Aemond, ustomed to Aegon��s antics, chose to ignore the interruption.


    Hena, looking exasperated, waved the maid away with a dismissive gesture. ��Thank you, Princess.��


    The maid, visibly relieved, hurriedly retreated, escaping Aegon��s unwee advances. Just then, the door burst open, and Rhaegar��s soft voice cut through the air. ��Slow down.��


    Rhaegar, guiding Rhaenyra into the room, supported her as she entered, cradling a swaddled baby. She had clearly made an effort to present herself well, her blue dress and fresh appearance a stark contrast to the morning��s fatigue.


    The maid, caught off guard by Rhaegar��s presence, scurried out of the room, her head bowed. Rhaegar��s gaze narrowed dangerously at Aegon��s slovenly demeanor, causing Aegon to stiffen as if doused in cold water. He quickly stood, offering his seat. ��Rhaenyra has just given birth. Why is she out and about?��


    Rhaegar��s expression softened slightly as he dismissed Aegon��s concern. ��The servants insisted, so I came to see you.��


    Hena stepped forward to assist Rhaenyra, her tone gentle. ��Sit down quickly.��


    Rhaenyra settled into the chair, adjusting the swaddling cloth with a calm smile. ��It��s fine. The Maester said walking after childbirth aids recovery.��


    As she spoke, her eyes briefly scanned the cluttered desk. Aemond, pausing his writing, nced at his siblings and slowly returned the sapphire to its ce in his eye socket.


    ��Is everything going well?�� Aemond asked softly, his gaze flickering to the tiny swaddled baby in Rhaenyra��s arms.


    Rhaenyra smiled warmly. ��It��s fine. It��s a girl.��


    Aegon leaned forward eagerly, peering at the baby��s face. With a flourish, he produced a ruby ne, his pride evident. ��A gift for my niece on her birth. A specialty from Vntis.��


    ��Thank you,�� Rhaenyra said, cing the ne gently in the swaddling clothes. ��I��ll make sure she gets it.��


    ��It��s nothing,�� Aegon said, puffing out his chest with a show of wealth, then turned to wink provocatively at Aemond.


    Aemond��s disdain was palpable as he looked away, dismissing his brother��s disy. The Stepstones, a lucrative hub with significant passage fees, had earned him considerable profit. With the aid of Myr and Lys, Aegon had expanded the docks on Bloodstone and Grey Gallows to attract more ships and increased his revenue by setting up brothels.


    Rhaegar, uninterested in the sibling rivalry, addressed the issue at hand. ��The Stepstones will see a 15% increase in taxes this year, on top of the existing 30%.��


    Aegon��s eyes widened in shock. ��30% isn��t enough. I��m barely making ends meet.��


    Rhaegar��s lips curled into a smirk. ��Myr taxes at 45%, and Lys at 50%. Do you have an issue with that?��


    Thework of shipping routes connecting the Stepstones, the Sea of Dorne, and the Summer Sea had bolstered the royal family��s wealth. Aegon considered protesting but thought better of it, his thoughts drifting to the wine cers at the Twins. He gritted his teeth and conceded, ��Fine, but just this once.��


    Rhaegar��s sly look conveyed his satisfaction. Hena interjected calmly, ��The Stepstones cannot exceed 65% in taxes. The Small Council has already deliberated on this.��


    Aegon��s face fell. His heart ached at the thought of diminishing wealth. He sulkily retreated to the balcony, staring at the sky as he mourned his impending losses.


    Rhaegar, shifting focus, rested his hand on the chair and turned to Aemond. ��What��s the issue that needs addressing?��


    As he spoke, Rhaegar��s demeanor became authoritative. Rhaenyra, with Hena by her side, nced at the baby, momentarily distracted.


    Aegon, unable to contribute to the discussion, continued to brood on the balcony.


    Aemond handed over a petition that had been lying on the floor. ��There��s news from Driftmark about the session of the Sea Snake.��


    Rhaegar furrowed his brow in thought. ��Isn��t he out patrolling the Disputed Lands?��


    Vntis had frequently entered the Disputed Lands under the guise of an ally, secretly deploying stowaways and pirates. The Sea Snake, as the Lys Admiral of the Navy, was responsible for countering such threats.


    Aemond''s gaze, intense and unyielding, settled on Rhaenyra. ��You should see it for yourself. The sender is the Sea Snake''s nephew.��


    Rhaenyra��s lips tightened. ��It��s about inheritance again. The Vryons never seem to be satisfied.��


    Rhaegar, taking the letter with a frown, scanned it with evident displeasure. ��Malentine Vryon��how many times has he caused trouble?��


    Despite being a nephew to the Sea Snake, Marlentine was surprisingly immature and persistent for his age.


    Aemond leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs with a nonchnt air. ��What should we do? Just ignore him?��


    Rhaegar��s nce was indifferent as he responded, ��Send a message to Aunt Rhaenys. I��ll take the children to visit her on Driftmark in a few days.��


    Some issues, he reasoned, would resolve themselves with time.


    Aemond nodded and turned his attention to Rhaenyra, who was calming the children. ��Is sheing along?��


    Rhaenyra frowned, but she spoke for Rhaegar. ��Can��t I go?��


    ��As you wish.�� Aemond shrugged casually, his tone dismissive.


    Rhaenyra handed the swaddling clothes to Hena, her gaze sharp. ��If you��re so concerned about me, you should have married Cassandra earlier and fulfilled the marriage alliance.��


    ��I have my own ns. Storm��s End will be mine sooner orter,�� Aemond retorted, his tone icy.


    Aegon looked on in surprise, his eyes darting around as if he were watching a performance.


    It was no secret that Rhaenyra and Aemond did not get along. Their antagonistic rtionship was well-known; Rhaenyra��s appearances were often followed by Aemond��s absence, and he was rarely seen in public.


    Rhaenyra��s thoughts briefly turned to Alicent, locked away in the chapel at Harrenhal. She opened her mouth to retort but was cut off by Rhaegar.


    ��Let��s focus on Visenya first,�� Rhaegar said, cing a hand on Rhaenyra��s shoulder and speaking softly, though his voice carried through the hall. ��Children grow up and deserve respect.��


    Rhaenyra clenched her teeth, struggling to suppress her anger. Rhaegar��s soothing gesture was a stark contrast to his words. He then turned his attention to Aemond with a calm but firm tone. ��Rhaenyra is right. You��ve alreadypleted the Rite of Manhood. Do you still require a tournament to prove yourself?��


    Under Rhaegar��s unwavering gaze, Aemond felt like a thorn in his side. He awkwardly adjusted his posture, dropping his legs and sitting up straight.


    Aegon, Hena, and the others were his closest blood rtives, but Rhaegar, the eldest brother, earned his admiration and respect. Rhaenyra, on the other hand, had never been close to him.


    Rhaegar''s cold stare softened somewhat, but he remained firm. The strained rtionship between Rhaenyra and Aemond had worsened three years ago when Rhaenyra proposed joint funding for a dock at Aegon''s Stepstones, a move that further strained their rtions.


    Stonehelm, which had its own dock and was less important than the Stepstones, had no need for such an investment.


    Rhaegar sighed, his tone soft. "You really should think about marrying Cassandra. My father has been urging me to make that match for some time."


    Aemond turned his head sharply. "Then you should take care of the one behind me. He''s been married for years and hasn''t fathered a single child."


    Aegon, taken aback, protested, "Now you!"


    "Quiet," Rhaegar snapped, his disgust evident. "I already have six children, including Visenya. Can''t you do any better?"


    "Hmph!" Aegon''s indignation was obvious.


    Rhaenyra nced at Rhaegar before focusing on soothing her daughter. Hena, speaking softly, added, ��Seven.��


    Rhaegar��s eyes widened in surprise. Hena gently took her niece��s hand, her eyes twinkling with affection.


    Rhaenyra��s expression was a mix ofplexity and resignation.


    Aemond, sensing the tension, shifted the subject. ��After our visit to Driftmark, I��ll return to Storm��s End to address this matter.��


    ��You should have done that long ago,�� Aegon grumbled, clearly displeased.


    Rhaegar��s eyes shed with a hint of determination. ��Prepare yourselves. The Sea Snake will be back soon.��


    With that, the meeting drew to a close, and they left the room.


    ...


    Seven dayster, ckwater Bay.


    ��Roar!��


    A formation of dragons soared gracefully above the vast expanse of the sea. Leading the pack was the formidable Cannibal, its jet-ck wings casting a sweeping shadow over the water. Its massive, serpentine body glided effortlessly, dominating the sky.


    On either side of the Cannibal flew two dragons with gleaming golden scales. Each was over 30 meters long, their impressive size a mere fraction of the Cannibal��s grandeur.


    The azure sky was dotted with fluffy white clouds, creating a stunning backdrop for the aerial disy.


    Roar!


    From the clouds emerged a lean, agile dragon, its slimy, brown scales gleaming in the sunlight. The Mud Dragon darted through the air with quick, sharp movements, its brown wings stirring up the salty sea breeze below.


    Whoosh!


    Above the clouds, a dragon with light blue scales sailed through the air with an air of effortless grace. Its enormous size dwarfed the Mud Dragon as it glided leisurely, the secondrgest of the group, trailing only behind the mighty Cannibal, which measured over 100 meters long.


    Beneath this impressive aerial disy, a three-masted sailing ship with red dragon gs fluttering from its masts drifted in the wind. The ship��s crew, ustomed to the royal entourage, kept a respectful distance from the deck, busy with their tasks but mindful of the dragons'' presence.


    Since Your Grace ascended the throne, the presence of dragons had be a constant and dramatic feature of royal excursions.


    ...


    Driftmark.


    In the harbor of Hull, several dragons flew overhead, heading for High Tide.


    The royal ship docked and was first greeted by the Kingsguard, who disembarked with disciplined efficiency.


    Whoo~


    At that moment, a deep, resonant horn sounded, echoing through the harbor.


    Outside the harbor, a majestic and battle-scarred warship with a seahorse g entered the scene, moving slowly but with undeniable authority.


    ��It��s the Sea Snake!��


    "This is the Lord''s ship! Hurry, everyone!"


    The arrival of the warship caused an immediate stir among the port''s residents. Patrol soldiers rushed to the scene, drawn by the sight of the Lord''s personal ship, which was anything but ordinary.


    The ship''s nks were darkened with grime, and the g appeared scorched, evidence of a recent conflict. From a distance, the mingled scents of blood and smoke permeated the air.

 Chapter 500: Every Family Has Its Own Difficult Experiences

    Chapter 500: Every Family Has Its Own Difficult Experiences


    High Tide.


    The castle forecourt, nked by a few ancient, gnarled trees, was strewn with a carpet of dead, yellow leaves. The scene had an air of somberness and destion.


    Rhaegar scanned the castle grounds, his eyes searching for a familiar face.


    The gate creaked open, and several figures with silver hair emerged, full of enthusiasm.


    Daeron, running ahead, threw his arms wide with a joyful shout. ��Brother, you��ve finally arrived!��


    ��Your Grace!�� came the warm response from Ba and Rhaena, who trailed slightly behind. They offered cheerful curtsies, their smiles genuine.


    Rhaegar pped his youngest brother on the back with a hearty thud. ��Not bad, Daeron. You��ve grown quite strong.��


    ��I train a lot with Lord Sea Snake,�� Daeron replied, his voice deepening with the authority befitting his royal status.


    ��There��s always room for improvement,�� Rhaegar said with a smile, his eyes twinkling as he took in the sight of his youngest brother, whom he had guided with great care.


    At 12 years old, Daeron had already developed into a young teenager, well-read and diligent in his studies. Rhaegar, mindful of avoiding the fate of Vaegon the Dragonless, had arranged for Daeron to serve as a cupbeareron Driftmark at the Sea Snake��s request earlier in the year. The Sea Snake, a seasoned veteran of the seas, had trained Daeron rigorously.


    Aegon and Aemond approached, exchanging updates on each other��s well-being, while Rhaenyra introduced her adopted daughters for the first time.


    ��Is this the little sister mentioned in the letter?�� Ba asked, her curiosity piqued as she gently poked the swaddling clothes, her finger brushing the baby��s tiny face.


    ��Oooooh~�� The little one, Visenya, stirred slightly in her sleep, her head turning away in mild irritation.


    ��May I hold her?�� Rhaena asked, her voice filled with affection as she eagerly reached out.


    Rhaenyra, observing her thoughtful foster daughters, offered a warm smile and gently instructed, ��Be careful not to wake her.��


    Her three sons, including Maekar, had been ustomed to flying with her on the back of a dragon, theirughter filling the air. But her daughter was different. The dragon��s back served as a cradle, and Visenya slept soundly, undisturbed by the flight.


    After exchanging pleasantries, Daeron took the lead, guiding them past the guards with a sense of urgency. ��Aunt is waiting for us. Please,e in.��


    ...


    Hall of Nine


    When the royal party arrived, it was already well past the hour. Having dismounted their dragons, they had changed into clean, fresh attire, free of any odor.


    Inside the Hall of Nine, Sea Snake was reclining sideways on the driftwood throne, his chest bare. The Maester was carefully removing the gauze, revealing a gruesome sight.


    Rhaegar��s gaze was drawn to the gauze, stained with blood and pus. Sea Snake��s face, as dark as pitch, turned towards the entrance as he noticed the visitors. His thick lips were pale, and his expression was one of strained wee.


    ��Your Grace!�� Sea Snake attempted to rise and salute but was clearly in too much pain.


    ��Corlys,�� Rhaenys interjected, stepping forward to gently restrain her husband. ��You shouldn''t exert yourself.��


    "I''m not that fragile," Sea Snake replied in a dry, strained voice as he struggled to stand.


    Rhaegar, watching the scene with a sideways nce, remained impassive.


    "Your presence has honored High Tide, Your Grace," Sea Snake managed as he dropped to one knee, his head bowed in submission.


    From his elevated position, Rhaegar could see the extent of Sea Snake''s injuries: a deep, gaping wound stretching from his left shoulder to his right lower abdomen, with ribs just barely visible beneath the torn flesh. The rest of his body bore numerous smaller scars.


    Rhaegar''s heart tightened with concern. He bent down to assist Sea Snake, his voiceced with worry. ��How did youe by such severe injuries? Were you not patrolling the Disputed Lands?��


    Sea Snake��s eyes, hard as stones, shed with anger. ��It was a deliberate ambush by pirates from Vntis, allied with the ve-trading fleet from ver��s Bay.��


    Rhaegar''s brow furrowed as he processed this information. ��So the remnants of the Triarchy are involved, working with Vntis. They must have ulterior motives.��


    Aemond, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, spoke with a chilling calm. ��The shippingnes in the Disputed Lands are bing increasingly contested. Ships from Vntis and ver��s Bay will have to pay tolls, and we may face fewer resource wars.��


    "It is better to avoid unnecessary conflict," Aegon added, his voice rising slightly. "We still owe a debt to the Iron Vault. A war would set our economy back a decade."


    As someone who had run the Stepstones for years, Aegon was well aware of the financial implications.


    Aemond dismissed Aegon��s concerns with a wave of his hand. ��They��re just a bunch of opportunists. Sooner orter, they��ll have to face consequences.��


    Rhaegar intervened, raising a hand to quell the bickering. ��Let us first hear Lord Corlys�� perspective. He��s the one directly facing these threats.��


    Sea Snake, visibly weakened but still rational, nodded in agreement. "I agree with Prince Aemond. They must be taught a lesson."


    Aemond puffed out his chest, brimming with confidence. "Give me a fleet and Sheepstealer, and I''ll burn their forces to the ground."


    Having fought alongside his dragon for years, Aemond��sbat prowess was on par with Rhaegar, Daemon, and other top-tier dragonlords.


    Rhaegar did not lift his gaze, but addressed the matter at hand with a hint of weariness. "There will be an opportunity to act. There is no need to rush."


    He had long considered the wild dragons of the Smoking Sea, but had been restrained by the realities of his position. As king, he understood the gravity of waging war.


    The treasury is empy!


    Braavos, Pentos, and other Free Cities are closely watching House Targaryen, wary of the potential for a resurgence of another Freehold Empire. Targaryen��s influence is spreading too thinly, causing them to be mired in the Disputed Lands, the critical shipping route between the East and West continents of Essos. Engaging in war would invite numerous unforeseen conflicts.


    Even with the abundance of dragons in the region, defending the Free Cities is a constant challenge. The foundationsid through years of effort must not be jeopardized by enemy sneak attacks or destruction. It��s essential to choose the right moment to strike.


    For now, Rhaegar remains steadfast and cautious.


    With a gesture of polite concern, Rhaegar helped Sea Snake back to his driftwood throne. Sea Snake''s movements were stiff, his face contorted in pain as the Maester quickly applied medicine and bandages.


    Rhaegar asked, "Lord Corlys, do you understand the purpose of my visit?"


    Sea Snake grimaced, his face dark with frustration. "There are some reckless individuals among my kin. I must address them first."


    Rhaenys, rolling her eyes, withdrew her veil and added, ��Several of your nephews are engaged in ndestine dealings while you��re away.��


    ��I will address it in detail,�� Sea Snake replied, his helplessness evident in his response to his wife.


    Rhaenys shook her head, clearly displeased.


    Understanding that a family meeting was approaching, Rhaegar decided it was best to take his leave. "Please concentrate on your recovery. We''ll take a tour of the ind in the meantime."


    Such is the nature of noble houses. Sea Snake, as the head of the houses, needed to talk with his family to devise a suitable n for dealing with the situation. The importance of his nephews in the direct line made this necessary.


    Rhaegar was aware of this and refrained from intervening prematurely. Once the Sea Snake and his nephews had settled their affairs, Rhaegar would take further action. His current visit to Driftmark was primarily a deterrent.


    With Sea Snake still receiving treatment, it was inconveniente prolonging his stay, "I appreciate Your Grace for the trip, please look forward to Prince Daeron showing you around Hull and Spicetown."


    Rhaegar, with nothing to lose, nodded politely to Rhaenys.


    Rhaenys inquired with genuine concern, "I heard Rhaenyra went intobor. Meleys still has one of her dragon eggs from herst clutch. Shall I ce it in the newborn''s cradle?"


    Rhaegar politely declined, "There is no need. Baelon and Aemon have already chosen a green dragon egg from Syrax''s clutch."


    Syrax hadid two clutches in six years. The first clutch had two eggs, and the second, recentlyid, had three. Meleys, though lethargic, hadid her eggs before Maekar was born, and the two eggs inherited their mother''s dark red color.


    Rhaenys had arranged for these eggs to be sent to King''s Landing for the crown''s consideration. Rhaegar, appreciating his aunt''s gesture, decided to keep one of the eggs for his son, Maekar, and leave the other in her care.


    Rhaenys remarked, ��Pairing Visenya with a green dragon egg seems like a stroke of fate.��


    Rhaegarughed softly. ��Ultimately, it��s up to the children. The hatching of dragon eggs is a matter of chance.��


    Rhaenys, curious, asked, ��Have Baelon��s dragon egg not yet hatched?��


    Aemon��s dragon eggs had hatched on the day he was born, and the young dragon was approaching adolescence. Baelon��s egg, however, was slow to respond.


    "Not yet, but he has his own ways," Rhaegar replied. "I''ve also considered taming a young dragon for Maekar when he''s older."


    It was unusual that, despite having six children, only one of his three sons had sessfully hatched a dragon egg. It was a curious anomaly, given their dragon blood.


    ��It��s a good idea. The young dragons in the Dragonpit are highly sought after,�� Rhaenys agreed.


    Stormcloud and Tyraxes, the first to hatch, along with the fierce ck hatchling, were all impressive in their own right.


    After exchanging pleasantries, Rhaegar took his leave. Rhaenys, enthusiastic and warm, escorted her nieces and nephews out of the Hall of Nine.


    Years of effort had restored the rtionship between House Targaryen and House Vryon. Rhaegar��s decision to name his second son Aemon, honoring his aunt who had recently lost her own son, yed a significant role in mending their bond.


    ...


    Rhaegar and his entourage departed, leaving the hall behind.


    Rhaenys returned to her husband with a sigh. "Why didn''t you ask Daemon and Laena to go with you? It''s a miracle you made it back safely."


    ��Daemon?�� Sea Snake sneered at the mention of his son-inw and former ally. ��He spends his days chasing women. I��d be more concerned about him perishing in some woman''s embrace than on the battlefield.��


    Despite his high status as a prince, Daemon had proven unreliable. Even as a Ranger Prince, he seemed to have forgotten the responsibilities that came with his position.


    Rhaenys remained silent, her gaze fixed on her husband with a mixture of disappointment and concern.


    Sea Snake, feeling her stare, shifted ufortably. ��Laena is struggling with Lys. She��s barely managing to hold things together.��


    Rhaenys��s expression softened as she reflected on the situation. ��It��s true that Rhaena��s im to inheritance has been questioned. When such important matters arise, it��s telling that the adoptive parents are present, while the biological parents are not.��


    Sea Snake, taken aback by Rhaenys'' realization, tried to justify his actions. "Laena is young; she''ll find her way eventually."


    "Maybe", Rhaenys, no longer holding high expectations, nodded in resignation.


    ...


    The old High Tide site was a relic of the past - an obsolete fortress located southeast of Driftmark. Abandoned for decades, it was built against a cliff and constructed of a mixture of stone and brick.


    Originally the stronghold of House Vryon, it fell into disrepair after Sea Snake''s many voyages brought the wealth necessary to build the current High Tide. The old fortress, now damp and dpidated, was eventually abandoned in favor of the new construction.


    Following her marriage with Sea Snake, Rhaenys had repurposed the old site into a temporary Dragonpit.


    At present, Ba, d in a ck dragon armor, led the way to this makeshift Dragonpit. Baelon and Aemon followed close behind, while the gentle Rhaena trailed behind, cradling the youngest, Maekar.


    A sudden roar echoed through the dragonpit, startling the group of young children. Baelon nced over to see a magnificent dragon with cobalt blue scales slowly emerge from the stone cave on the seaward side of the pit.

 Chapter 506: The Frightened Children

    Chapter 506: The Frightened Children


    ��Ah!��


    Rhaena was startled and instinctively rolled over to avoid the threat.


    ��Run!�� Maekar shouted, his watery blue eyes wide with fear. His childish voice carried a sense of urgency, but it was toote. He tried to tug on his foster-sister and crawl away as fast as he could.


    Rhaena was horrified by the ferocity in the assassin''s eyes. She dove into a nearby pile of cargo with the agility of a cat.


    ��Don��t let her get away!�� the assassinmanded, gripping his dagger tightly as he pushed through the crowd in pursuit.


    A dozen assassins were on the hunt, chasing the small girl around the ship. Many sailors on board, who knew Rhaena, grabbed hammers and shovels to help.


    Pfft! Pfft! But they were no match for the assassins, who slit their throats with swift, merciless efficiency.


    For a brief moment, Rhaena found herself out of immediate danger. Panicking, she fled toward the forward half of the deck. Though small and thin, she moved quickly.


    ��Get her!����No mission is allowed to fail!�� The lead assassin let go of his butcher��s knife and attacked indiscriminately, leaving a bloody path in his wake.


    Within a few steps, Rhaena was cornered. She tripped over a gaping hole in the deck, letting out a yelp of pain.


    ��Do it!��


    The two assassins exchanged a nce, and one lunged forward with his dagger.


    ��No!�� Rhaena cried out, raising her hand in a desperate attempt to block the attack. But her slender arm was no match for the de.


    The dagger gleamed coldly in the sunlight, the tip resembling a bee''s stinger. Rhaena��s eyes widened as she watched it descend.


    The sea breeze continued to blow, the salty scent filling the air. The harbor seemed to grow louder, yet the moment felt frozen, every sound muted.


    ��Go to hell,�� the assassin snarled, his dry, cracked lips forming the words.


    Rhaena closed her eyes in despair, unable toprehend what was happening.


    In the nick of time, a figure fell from the sky.


    "Scumbag, get outta here!"


    Addam leapt from the cabin, swinging his hammer defiantly.


    Poof!


    The sneak attack struck the assassin before he could react, hitting him squarely in the temple. His brain burst, and he fell straight to the ground.


    Addamnded smoothly and rolled to his feet, quickly observing the fallen body. His eyes momentarily wavered, then regained their resolve. He was killing to save a life, not viting thew.


    "Damn, you little bastard."


    Seeing hispanion''s gruesome death, the other assassin charged forward in a rage.


    Addam''s body tensed as he raised his hammer high and took two hasty steps back, his boot catching the hem of Rhaena''s skirt. "Mydy, get out of here! I informed the Kingsguard."


    The assassin lunged, and their weapons shed. Addam''s mind raced, but his body moved instinctively, fighting back with surprising skill.


    In a brief moment of rity, he realized he was actually quite talented at fighting.


    "Thanks, I''m leaving!" Rhaena said, her eyes wide with confusion. She quickly realized she had been saved and scrambled to her feet, running as fast as she could. Her foster mother had always told her she hadn''t inherited her parents'' natural talents, unlike her sister Ba, who was a natural warrior.


    Saying, "If you''re in danger, just run."


    "Run! Run!" Addam shouted at the top of his lungs, standing alone to block the swarming assassins. Despite his not-so-strong body, he stood tall and imposing.


    ...


    On the other side of the ship, Maekar, with teary eyes, crawled to a corner and curled up into a small ball. Bodies of sailorsy everywhere, and their curses and screams echoed in his ears.


    Peeking out, Maekar saw an assassin stab a sailor who was blocking his path. Fearful, he shrank back.


    "There''s another one," the assassin sneered, spotting Maekar. A cruel smile appeared on his lips as he approached.


    When he reached Maekar, the assassin suddenly noticed the boy''s tinum-blonde hair. He nced at the boy''s luxurious clothes and his expression changed. "Are you a prince?" he asked.


    Maekar''s eyes lit up, and he said decisively, "Yes, my father is the king."


    "That''s a problem," the assassin muttered, hesitating. He was unsure whether to drop his dagger. This was the heir to the throne, and the king was a young Dragonlord known for his cruelty.


    Realizing the assassin''s fear, Maekar quickly formted a n. He knew the target seemed to be Rhaena. An idea shed in his mind.


    He swiftly took off his backpack and pulled out a precious dragon egg, whispering, "You can go. This is worth more than me."


    The assassin stood there, greed filling his eyes as he looked down at the oval, dark red dragon egg. A dragon egg was worth a fortune, much more than the price of an assassination.


    Without thinking, the assassin reached out, picked up the egg, and kissed it with delight. "Haha, worthy of the royal family. So generous."


    Maekar, indignant, pushed the backpack toward him. "You''d better go now, before your friends find you."


    "Get lost. I don''t need this," the assassin growled, kicking the backpack away. He stuffed the egg into his bosom and threatened, "You be quiet! I don''t want to mess with that scary king."


    "Mmm-hmm," Maekar nodded like a chicken pecking at grain.


    Satisfied, the assassin changed into a set of craftsman''s clothes and mingled with the crowd to escape.


    Maekar, who had been on edge, let out a long sigh of relief once the assassin hadpletely disappeared. He picked up the kicked and ttened backpack, patting it down with a sad expression.


    "It''s all broken," he muttered, pouting.


    Holding the backpack over his head with both hands, he felt a strange mix of relief and annoyance, thinking.


    ''I''m d Father is so terrifying.''


    ...


    The Cabin''s Front Door.


    Rhaena stumbled and ran all the way back to the cabin''s front door. The shipwrights, alerted by themotion, were ready with their hammers. As soon as they saw the Lord''s granddaughter, they quickly took her under their protection.


    ��Mydy, don''t be afraid. We''ve already alerted the patrol soldiers,�� the old shipwright said, his face serious as he hammered on a makeshift wooden shield.


    Rhaena let out a sigh of relief, tears almost welling up in her eyes. She still didn''t understand what was happening and why she was the target of an assassination attempt.


    Just as she was about to speak, a flurry of footsteps echoed in the cabin. Cole, dressed in white and carrying a long sword, rushed out, anxiously asking, ��Where are the assassins?��


    Rhaena swallowed hard and pointed behind her. ��Assassins... there are so many.��


    Cole''s anxiety grew. ��Where is Prince Maekar?��


    ��We got separated,�� Rhaena replied, suddenly remembering Maekar''sst words to her to run. She burst into tears. ��Maekar was behind us, hidden in a boat.��


    Her emotions made her words jumbled, and she gestured wildly, only able to give a rough description.


    Just then, Ba, Baelon, and Aemon ran out of the cabin.


    "Sister!" Ba shouted, worry etched on her face as she hugged a crying Rhaena.


    Baelon, lookingpletely dazed, shouted, "Where''s my brother?"


    "I''ll go get someone," Aemon said, his face stern as he began to run down the ship.


    ��Come back, don''t make things worse,�� Baelonmanded, dragging his identical twin brother back. He then looked up at Cole with authority. ��Ser, bring my brother back safely.��


    Cole looked at the chaos on the ship and then at the princes and princesses around him. He hesitated, torn between saving the young prince and protecting the king''s eldest son and his siblings.


    ��Cole!�� Baelon said sharply, imitating his father''s majesty. ��Maekar is my younger brother. Who are you to judge our worth?��


    Cole was struck by Baelon''s words, his face quickly bing solemn. He raised his hand in salute. ��Prince, you are right.��


    The mission of the Kingsguard is to protect the royal family. He was not qualified to judge their worth. It was his duty to do his best to save lives.


    Cole turned to leave but not before instructing the shipwrights, ��Protect the Princes as they disembark. Immediately!��


    The shipwrights dared not refuse and did as they were told.


    ...


    The Side of the Ship


    Addam darted around, dodging the relentless pursuit of the assassins. These were battle-hardened veterans, each with extraordinary skills. To them, Addam was merely a lowly minion, so they sent only two assassins after him.


    When Cole reached the side of the ship, he ran straight into a group of no less than ten assassins.


    ��A Kingsguard. Kill him,�� one of the assassins whispered, and they attacked en masse.


    Cole''s eyelids twitched furiously. Surrounded, he had no choice but to wield his greatsword defensively.


    Pop!


    A dagger pierced his thigh, soaking his pants in blood. "Get out of the way, you scum!" Cole screamed in pain, decapitating the attacker with a swift sh of his sword.


    Plop!


    Suddenly, there was a ssh. Cole nced over and saw a figure with silver hair and dark skin jump into the sea, disappearing in an instant. It was the boatman who had dyed the assassins.


    Cole froze, his heart sinking. Hisst ally had also fled.


    ��Split up and go after the target,�� the leader of the assassins shouted, directing two men to bypass Cole.


    ��Stop!�� Cole tried to block their path but was forced back by the others.


    ��Bastard!�� he roared, shock and anger fueling his fury as he swung his sword at his enemies.


    ...


    The Harbor


    The boatmen nervously escorted the Prince and Princess off the ship, guiding them through the vendor area.


    Baelon, struggling and reluctant, eximed, ��Why are you running? There are only a dozen of them. Whoever saves my brother, I''ll give him more money than he can spend.��


    Rhaena, her tears flowing, pleaded, ��Please help. I''ll ask my grandfather to give you a big raise.��


    ��s,�� the old boatman sighed deeply and reluctantly refused. ��Sorry, we''re not warriors. This is all we can do.��


    Even if the reward was high, you had to be alive to collect it. They all had families and couldn''t risk their lives.


    At that moment, three assassins ran down the ship, chasing after them.


    ��Ah!�� The street vendors screamed in horror, and many people fell over as they saw the shing knives. The assassins moved swiftly through the crowd like cheetahs, their eyes fixed on their target. To them, the princes and princesses were not people, but shining gold coins.


    ��Run!�� Baelon was the first to react, pushing the boatmen. ��Take them and run separately, hide in the houses.��


    He gritted his teeth and struggled out of the old boatman''s arms, first hiding under the orange vendor''s cart. The boatmen scattered, surrounding Aemon and Rhaena as they ran.


    The assassins were closing in when Baelon, with a hardened expression, bent down and pushed the cart into the middle of the road. Despite his young age, he was strong and managed to crash the cart into the assassins, slowing them down.


    The leader of the assassins saw him and, thinking quickly, decided, ��You go after them, I''ll take care of this one.�� The mission had failed, but kidnapping a prince was still a big payday, and it might save his life.


    ��Dream on!�� Baelon spat and turned to run along the drainage ditch. He remembered it led to an alley, and he knew his uncles were at the brothel. He hoped they could help him kill these bastards.


    The assassin leader snarled and chased after him, causing chaos as they ran through the crowded streets. Baelon, agile and determined, slipped through the legs of passersby and into a dirty, smelly alley.


    There were soldiers patrolling the harbor, and if he could hold off the assassin long enough, he would be saved. But the assassin leader was relentless, pushing past pedestrians and following the familiar terrain, calmly searching for his target.


    Finally, the assassin found Baelon at the end of a maze of alleys. Baelon, realizing he had been caught so quickly, felt his heart pounding as he darted from alley to alley. He ended up in a narrow alley with a strong smell of urine, and found himself at a dead end. Behind him, he heard the assassin''s quick footsteps.


    Baelon froze, unsure where to run. Suddenly, a small hand covered his mouth and pulled him away with great force.


    ��Woof!��


    Bang!


    A door in the wall closed as if it had never been opened.

 Chapter 507: Addam and Nettles

    Chapter 507: Addam and Nettles


    Inside the Dark Room


    Baelon was caught off guard as he was dragged into a dark, dank room. The space wasplex, with smallpartments like a beehive. The walls had no windows, and the interior was damp and dark, with moldy moss growing in the cracks of the masonry.


    ��Whoo-hoo~��


    Baelon struggled, thinking he was being abducted.


    "Shh, don''t make a sound!�� a voice whispered urgently. A furry head rested on his shoulder, and the strange ent made it clear the speaker was a little girl.


    Baelon immediately quieted down and reached out to pull away the dirty hand covering his mouth. A casual nce revealed olive skin and rough knuckles rubbing against his cheeks. The owner of the small hand did not resist.


    ��Who are you?�� Baelon asked, quickly drawing back and turning to face his rescuer. He saw a young girl with a head of fluffy ck hair.


    "My name is Nettles," she replied. Her dark skin and almond-shaped eyes gave her an exotic look, and she looked at the silver-haired boy as if he were a precious treasure.


    Baelon felt ufortable under her scrutiny and took a step back. She was considerably older than him and had a fierce appearance. Her face was freckled, with a crooked nose that bore a clear scar as if it had been broken by a fist. Despite this, her wide-set eyes radiated confidence."You..." Baelon began, hesitating to exin that someone was trying to kill him.


    Before he could continue, Nettles shed a broad smile, grabbed him by the cor, and dragged him further into the house. "Hey, Aranda, I caught a dragon rider too!" she called proudly.


    With a creak, she kicked open an old door, and a beam of light pierced Baelon''s eyes. The bed frame creaked under the strain of the sudden illumination.


    A middle-aged woman with simrly fluffy curls and a fit body was in the room, busy with something. Nettles''s sudden entrance startled her, and she quickly dismounted from what she was doing.


    ��Sorry!�� Nettles immediately turned around and looked away in embarrassment. Baelon was stunned and confused, having never seen anything like this before.


    The curly-haired woman cursed and hastily adjusted her skirt. Seeing the situation turning awkward, Nettles kicked Baelon in the butt and said angrily, ��Come with me.��


    Still dazed, Baelon followed her, trying to make sense of his bizarre rescue.


    ��Ahem...��


    Suddenly, a violent coughing sound came from the bed.


    "Wait."


    Baelon was taken aback by the sound, feeling it was somehow familiar.


    Nettles kicked him again, shouting angrily, ��How dare you look!��


    The boot connected with his buttocks, but it didn''t hurt at all. Baelon was rooted to the spot, his voice filled with surprise. ��Uncle, are you here too?��


    Without the curly-haired woman blocking his view, he saw the young man lying on the bed. He had wet silver hair and a youthful, pale face.


    At that moment, the young man coughed repeatedly, wiping the water from his lips. The curly-haired woman knelt beside the bed, apologizing profusely.


    Baelon shook off Nettles, who was a head taller than him, and walked excitedly to the broken bed. ��Uncle, it really is you!��


    Aegon barely stopped coughing, his face turning red. Seeing his good nephew, he quickly grabbed the sheet to cover his lower body, his face wrinkled into a ball. ��Baelon, why are you here?��


    ��That��s what I want to ask you,�� Baelon replied, looking between his uncle and the curly-haired woman with strange eyes. ��Aren''t you supposed to be with your younger brother?��


    Today��s experience was more thrilling than the past six yearsbined.


    ��Uh... this...�� Aegon stammered, quickly changing the subject. ��Say! Why are you here, or I��ll tell Rhaenyra.��


    He couldn''t admit that he had been chased out of a high-ss brothel by Aemond and had picked up the first prostitute he saw. That was not something to boast about to his nephew.


    ncing at the poor, curly-haired woman, he warned her, ��Don��t tell anyone about what happened today!��


    She nodded fervently, promising repeatedly that she wouldn''t tell anyone.


    Aegon sighed in relief, pulled out three gold dragons from his pocket, thought for a moment, and put one back. He then tossed two to the woman. ��This is 100 times your normal price. Don��t tell anyone!��


    ��Don��t worry. A dragon wouldn��t be found in a mud pit,�� the curly-haired beauty replied, delightedly picking up the gold dragons.


    Aegon nced at her with pity and began dressing. If only money could solve everything... This encounter had cost him dearly, enough to spend a month in the flea bottom brothel! He gritted his teeth, thinking how unlucky he was.


    Fortunately, the money was well spent. If Rhaegar found out he was in a ce like this with his nephew, he would cut off his third leg. While dressing, Aegon eyed the simple Baelon, contemting how to keep him from telling anyone.


    He was about to weave a little lie.


    Baelon grabbed his uncle by the arm and said urgently, ��Uncle,e with me. There are assassins outside.��


    ��Wait a minute. Let''s talk this over,�� Aegon replied, stunned and thinking he had misheard.


    Baelon, jumping up and down in panic, pointed to the alley. "I can''t wait. I''m going to be assassinated!"


    ��Who would dare to assassinate you?�� Aegon asked, clearly confused and incredulous. The idea that anyone would target the heir to the throne, Rhaegar''s eldest son, seemed absurd to him.


    Baelon, anxious and angry, dragged his uncle towards the door. ��Don''t ask questions. Maekar has gone missing!��


    Seeing a rtive for the first time in a long while felt like grasping at a lifeline. Despite his young age, Baelon was incredibly strong and literally pulled Aegon out of bed.


    Aegon, shocked and aware of his own physical decline, looked at his limp legs and pinched his fat little belly. Finding an excuse to refuse, he said, ��Don''t be impulsive. Uncle will take you to find the patrol.��


    Six years ago, he might have been ready to fight, but his skills had long since deteriorated.


    Baelon took his refusal as cowardice and angrily shook his hand off. ��If you won''t go, I''ll go myself,�� he dered, heading towards the front door.


    Nettles, with shifty eyes, watched the argument between uncle and nephew, then followed the silver-haired boy. Before leaving, she slyly picked up Aegon''s belt, took a ruby from it, and hid it in her sleeve.


    Aegon, helpless and resigned, hurriedly put on his clothes and followed his nephew out the door.


    ...


    The Alley


    The assassin leader sneaked into the alley, sniffing the stench in the air, his expression unchanged. Soon, he found a broken wooden door covered in urine and feces. Grinning, he inserted his dagger into the door and tried to pry it open.


    Meanwhile, at the entrance to the alley, a man in a ck robe walked along the narrow street, observing the poor vendors on either side. Turning a corner, he spotted the assassin leader attempting to pry open the door. He took a good look at him from a distance: calluses on his hands, a scar over one eye, lean and energetic, butcking signs of systematic training.


    The ck-robed man smiled and noticed a skinny old man selling stone carvings at his feet. Bending down, he picked up an uncarved stone and walked into the alley with light steps. The old man''s eyes were cloudy, and he dared not speak, instead burying his head.


    Click! Click! The assassin leader squatted down, repeatedly prodding the doortch with his dagger. After two unsessful attempts, he angrily tried to kick the door open, failing to notice the approaching danger.


    The ck-robed man walked silently until he stood behind his target, weighing the stone in his hand. "Hi," he said politely, tilting his head to the side.


    The assassin leader turned around in horror, but before he could react, the ck-robed man struck. Bang! The skull burst, sending a piece of bone flying into the pit of filth.


    ��With this level of skill, you dare to be an assassin,�� the ck-robed man muttered, shaking his head regretfully. With a gentle push, the corpse fell backward. He bent down, dragged the body into the corner, and a strand of silver hair fell over his shoulder.


    Rhaegar lifted his hood and stared at the broken door. Aegon was inside, as was Baelon. The two of them, one big and one small, were far too careless. ��I will have to clean up this messter,�� he sighed in frustration and took the dragonpass from his ne. Thepass was simple and elegant, its needle spinning back and forth.


    He had just seen the patrols leave and had already found Ba and Aemon. He hadn''t seen Rhaena yet, but he needed to find his youngest son, Maekar, first.


    Hum. The needle pointed towards the harbor, and the spider web with the blood pattern froze, depicting a dragon egg. Rhaegar put on his hood and set off, thepass in hand.


    As he passed the skinny old man selling stone carvings, he casually threw back the bloody stone and two silver coins, each with substantial weight. Without saying a word, he continued walking.


    "Thank you, my Lord!�� The old man got up and knelt down again, biting the silver coins in surprise to test their purity.


    After a while, two small figures approached the alley, peeking in curiously.


    ��Dead?�� Nettles stretched her neck, spotting the corpse.


    Baelon pinched his nose and pushed aside the dirty bag on his head, saying calmly, ��I heard the sound of the patrol.��


    Although curious about how the assassin had died, seeking help was more pressing.


    ...


    In a dark alley on an unknown street, Rhaena fled in a panic, pursued by two assassins. Unlike her sister Ba and Aemon, she had attracted their attention.


    The assassins, their faces covered, shoved aside vendors as they chased her.


    ��Ah!�� Rhaena slipped and screamed, eyes shut tight.


    Boom! Instead of the expected fall, she crashed into a hard chest. Looking up, she saw a serious face wrapped in a silver helmet.


    Arryk looked solemn and drew his sword with a swish. ��Prince Daeron, take Lady Rhaena and go.��


    ��Daeron!?�� Rhaena was overjoyed to see Daeron beside the Kingsguard.


    "Follow me,�� Daeron said, helping his fianc��e to her feet. A group of patrols escorted them to safety.


    With no worries, Arryk charged forward, sword in hand. The assassins, knowing their fate was sealed, tried to flee.


    ��Stop!�� Arryk was quick, like a leaping shadow cat, and soon caught up with the assassins trying to blend into the crowd. He stabbed one, piercing his belly. As he pulled out his sword, the intestines spilled out.


    The other assassin, terrified, ran for his life, but Arryk was faster. He swung his sword and cut him in half at the waist.


    ...


    At the Sea Snake Harbor


    At the harbor, sailors were in a panic, screaming and running in all directions. Rhaegar, dressed in ck, boarded the ship and entered the cabin, which was wide open.


    Humming. Thepass hummed slightly, its needle glowing. Rhaegar spun around, pointing at a dimly lit storage room.


    Bang! A wooden door was kicked open, revealing a dimly lit figure.


    He stood there, tense and drenched in sweat. In his arms, Maekar was curled up, shivering. Addam, holding a hammer, stared at the door, a dry basket slung over his shoulder.


    Rhaegar took off his hood and looked at the pair in surprise.


    ��Father!�� Maekar suddenly looked up and cried out in a pained voice.


    Seeing the handsome, silver-haired man with purple eyes, Addam''s pupils shrank, and he stammered, ��L-Lord.��

 Chapter 508: Prelude to War

    Chapter 508: Prelude to War


    "Addam, you have done well."


    "I owe you a debt of gratitude for your bravery."


    ...


    High Tide, Hall of the Nine


    Sea Snake, leaning on his cane, ced his hand on the shoulder of the young man with silver hair and dark skin, and solemnly thanked him. "Addam, you did well."


    Addam looked directly at the Lord and humbly replied, ��My Lord, this is what I should do.��


    "No, you did what no one else dared to do,�� Sea Snake said, a hint of pride in his eyes as he regarded the young man before him. Addam, dressed simply, was so nervous he couldn''t maintain eye contact. Despite his humble appearance, Sea Snake saw great potential in him.


    He was worthy of being his... He quickly pushed the thought out of his mind and looked around cautiously.


    In the Hall, Rhaegar, still in his ck robe, was speaking with Rhaenys, and the captain of the Kingsguard, Erryk.��The children are fine, but Rhaena is in shock,�� Rhaenys said, her voice tinged with sadness. ��Both sisters are scared, and Ba has been crying.�� She sighed deeply, feeling the weight of the incident. Even strong-willed Ba had shed tears, and as their grandmother, Rhaenys felt particrly heartbroken.


    ��Tell Baelon to keep thempany. Children can empathize more,�� Rhaegar suggested, his expression remaining unchanged. His gaze shifted to Erryk. ��Ser, do you have anything to say?��


    Erryk gritted his teeth and spoke with regret. ��Your Grace, I am deeply sorry for what has happened.�� He had hoped that Driftmark, almost a second home for the royal family, would be free from such brazen acts of treason.


    Looking directly at Rhaegar, Erryk straightened his chest and tried to make amends. ��Ser Cole killed seven assassins and was seriously injured, but fortunately he was not fatally wounded.��


    Rhaegar''s cold gaze showed no sign of being impressed. Erryk quickly continued, ��To protect the Princes, I have assigned Arryk, Lorent, and Steffon to them. This will never happen again.��


    Despite Cole''s bravery, his heroics couldn''t erase the mistakes made through carelessness. If not for Prince Maekar''s quick thinking, the consequences could have been disastrous. Prince Baelon and Lady Rhaena had narrowly escaped death.


    Rhaegar felt a mix of annoyance and relief, his voice icy. "I want to see the heads of all the assassins before nightfall."


    "I promise!" Erryk replied firmly. "The assassins invoked the Harpy, but they weren''t the Sons of the Harpy from ver''s Bay. They were a group of illegal mercenaries." He emphasized that the Sons of the Harpy wore golden masks, a symbol of their faith, and these assassins were clearly different.


    Tapping, tapping...


    Two figures entered the hall. Arryk walked quickly, holding a dark red dragon egg, with Baelon close behind, holding the dragonpass.


    Arryk handed over the dragon egg. "Your Grace, the assassins who stole the Prince''s dragon egg have been captured. They were on a cargo ship bound for Braavos."


    "Father, thepass," Baelon said, slightly out of breath, offering it as if it were a treasure.


    Rhaegar took the items and instructed Arryk, "Seal off Driftmarkpletely. Cannibal will patrol the Gullet. Any suspicious ships that venture out to sea will be sunk."


    "Yes!" Arryk pounded his chest, bowed, and hurriedly left.


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed as he rubbed the egg. "Men from ver''s Bay, ships from Braavos," he mused. There was a definite connection, even if indirect.


    Sea Snake, having just bid farewell to Addam, approached Rhaegar with a serious expression. "Your Grace��"


    "Quiet, Lord Corlys," Rhaegar interrupted, waving a hand. He looked into Corlys''s eyes, disappointment clear. "My child was almost assassinated in Vryon''s territory. You don''t need to say anything now."


    "Your Grace..." Sea Snake began, stunned and wanting to exin.


    But chaos erupted in the castle. Maids and servants screamed, and Ser Lorent led guards in a thorough search of High Tide Castle. Before Corlys could speak, five disheveled Vryon members, tortured and shackled, were brought into the hall. Their hands and feet were injured, fingernails pulled out, knuckles broken, and their mouths stuffed with rags soaked in herbs.


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed, his grip on the dragon egg tightening behind his back.


    Lorent stepped forward. "Your Grace, these five traitors were in contact with the remnants of the Triarchy in ver''s Bay and intended to assassinate Lady Rhaena. They havemitted treason."


    "Traitors?" Sea Snake''s face changed as he recalled the patrol ambush in the Disputed Lands.


    Rhaegar sneered. "Lord Corlys, House Vryon truly has many hidden dragons."


    Sea Snake, his head spinning, stumbled in disbelief. "My two nephews died in the war with the Triarchy. They..."


    He stopped talking, realizing that his rtives had betrayed their blood rtives and conspired with the enemy.


    Rhaegar dered, ��The Kingdom''s upation of the Disputed Lands has long been a target for many.��


    He walked past the Sea Snake, who was ovee with self-doubt, and beckoned for a longsword. Waving it, he found it lifeless. His gaze shifted to a bloody hammer hanging on a stone pir.


    ��My children are frightened because of this. Then no one should live,�� he said, his voice as cold as winter in the North. He reached out and took the three-foot-long hammer, ready to strike.


    At that moment, a beautiful figure hurried into the hall. Rhaegar paused, ncing at her.


    Hena, dressed in a blue silk dress, carried a limp Maekar in her arms. ��What��s wrong with him?�� Rhaegar asked, hiding the hammer behind his back.


    Hena lowered her head, holding Maekar tightly. ��Did you catch it?�� she asked in a strange voice. Maekar looked back at her with teary eyes, his head resting on her delicate neck. The scene warmed Rhaegar slightly.


    Rhaenyra was looking after her two foster daughters and was more concerned about the twin brothers.


    As the youngest and an introvert, Maekar was closer to Hena. Upon returning to High Tide, Maekar was taken away by Hena, who had heard the news.


    Rhaegar held the dark red dragon egg aloft and smiled. ��Don��t be afraid. The bad guys paid the price, and the dragon egg was not lost.��


    Hena��s spirit lifted, and she patted her nephew��s bottom. ��Look, your dragon egg.��


    Maekar stopped crying and stared at the dragon egg he had given away, his big blue eyes filled with inexplicable sadness. Rhaegar, thinking his son was ming himself, gentlyforted him. ��No one mes you. In your father��s eyes, you are more precious than any dragon egg.��


    The little one was smart enough to know he had just saved his life. When he was a child, Rhaegar had wandered around Crackw Point and haggled with the wildlings. This child was just like him.


    ��No,�� Maekar shook his head violently, his eyes sad. ��I gave the dragon egg away, and it won��t recognize me anymore.��


    In other words, he sensed that he would never be able to break the shell of this dragon egg. This was the price he had to pay. Rhaegar, full of doubts, sensed his son was telling the truth.


    Hena stroked Maekar��s back, cing her forehead against his, whispering, ��Shh, don��t cry. You��ll find another way.��


    Maekar wiped away his tears, took onest look at the dark red dragon egg, and then huddled against his aunt��s neck. ��I��m sorry, but I can��t have it anymore.��


    The two of them had unexpectedly hit it off.


    Rhaegar sighed and handed the egg to Baelon. ��Take your brother downstairs. Father has some business to attend to.��


    ��Leave it to me.�� Baelon patted his chest and took his brother from Hena��s arms. Maekar tried to walk on his own but was easily carried away by his three-year-older brother.


    "The egg will be kept by the Dragonkeepers.�� As he watched his sons leave, Rhaegar tossed the egg to Erryk and picked up the hammer, advancing menacingly on Malentine Vryon.


    ��Woo-woo...�� The five Vryons tried to speak, whimpering in fear. Malentine stared with wide eyes, shaking his head frantically and kneeling to beg for mercy.


    Boom!


    The heavy hammer struck, and flesh and blood sttered everywhere. Rhaegar''s expression remained cold as he crushed the thick brain matter, then moved on to the next victim.


    ��Uhh...��


    The next man bowed heavily, screaming like a madman, and tried to bite Sea Snake''s trousers.


    ��Your Grace, should we...��


    Boom!


    Half of the brain flew out,nding at Sea Snake''s feet. He swallowed his suggestion to publicly execute the prisoners, his pupils twitching and his teeth grinding as he backed away.


    Rhaegar turned to him, bloodstains on his porcin-white skin resembling bright plum blossoms. Sea Snake shuddered, realizing the true meaning of hell.


    ��Lord Corlys, did I ask you to speak?�� Rhaegar asked, feigning confusion as he shook off the sticky substance from his hammer.


    Sea Snake was at a loss for words, unable to answer.


    At that critical moment, Rhaenys stepped in front of her husband, speaking helplessly. ��Your Grace, Corlys only thinks that this will undermine your majesty. Besides, they have already admitted their mistake. Perhaps they can be given a chance to atone for their sins by wearing ck robes.��


    Corlys''s eyes were filled with mixed emotions, and his wife''s words reflected his own thoughts. He couldn''t help but feel a pang of guilt.


    ��Ohhh...��


    The remaining three Vryons nodded repeatedly, their eyes full of a desperate desire to live. They would rather live on the Wall than die here.


    Rhaegar paused, looking back and forth between Sea Snake and Rhaenys. After a long silence, he sighed lightly, seeming to be persuaded.


    Rhaenys''s brow rxed, and she continued, ��The assassins are from ver''s Bay. We should send a message to Daemon to prepare.��


    Boom!


    Before her words had fully settled, a head flew into the air like a rotten watermelon bursting. Rhaegar kept his hammer raised, looking almost apologetic. ��Sorry, I hit the neck.��


    Plop!


    The headless corpse fell backward, its spine swaying grotesquely. Rhaegar turned around and casually threw the hammer to the stunned Ser Lorent, coldly ordering, ��Take the other two and execute them ording to the tradition of the Boltons in the North.��


    ��Your Grace?�� Lorent hesitated, wanting to persuade him. The traditional methods of House Bolton had long been banned and were widely opposed by both nobility andmoners.


    ��Do it!�� Rhaegar ordered coldly, not wanting to hear any more excuses. His children had almost been killed. The perpetrators needed to feel the pain they had caused.


    Lorent dared not argue further and quickly ordered the three bodies and the two half-crazed Vryons to be dragged away. The hall returned to a semnce of peace.


    Rhaegar turned his gaze to the Sea Snake, who stood with his eyes closed, deep in thought. ��They don��t understand their wrongdoing; they��re just afraid of punishment.��


    The Sea Snake remained silent, but Rhaenys spoke up, ��You��re right, Your Grace.��


    Rhaegar dismissed any potential dissent and intensified the punishment. ��Their families will be imprisoned and sent to Winterfell to serve as servants. Lord Cregan will receive them personally.��


    It was well known that two years prior, Cregan Stark, who had rebelled against his uncle the Regent, had reimed control of Winterfell. He had even traveled to King��s Landing to renew his ties of friendship with Rhaegar.


    As Rhaegar finished speaking, the Sea Snake''s eyes snapped open, expressing strong protest. The five nephews were guilty, and their deaths were eptable. But punishing their families and sending them to the North was not only a disgrace to House Vryon but also a significant weakening of its bloodline.


    Rhaegar''s voice was indifferent. ��Do you have a problem with that?��


    The Sea Snake felt a lump in his throat, his voice bing hoarse. ��There is a mastermind behind this. Before the storm, a wise sailor does not abandon all avable resources.��


    ver��s Bay, Vntis, Braavos... All the forces on the continent of Essos were potential enemies of the Iron Throne.


    Rhaegar agreed, saying, ��Yes, but I am not a sailor. I am Rhaegar Targaryen the First, The King on the Dragon��s Back.��


    With that, he walked past the Sea Snake. ��ver��s Bay is too far away. Pick a suspect and strike.��


    ��This is just killing some rats to warn the others!�� he dered, ignoring the Sea Snake��s stunned expression, and strode out of the hall. Hena, who had watched the whole exchange, followed him leisurely.


    The first thing Rhaegar did after leaving the hall was find Aemond, who was hiding in his room, brooding over his loss of face at the brothel.


    Bang! Rhaegar kicked open the door and shouted at Aemond.


    ...


    A momentter, three dragons soared into the sky from Driftmark, flying over The Gullet and heading towards Braavos.


    The Sea Snake was right. War wasing. Agreements would be broken, or they would be forged anew in a baptism of blood and fire.

 Chapter 509: The Dragonlord’s Oppression

    Chapter 509: The Dragonlord��s Oppression


    Spicetown, the Harbor.


    A royal ship with three red dragon banners was moored at the harbor, and Erryk, captain of the Kingsguard, was overseeing the unloading of cargo. Nearby, Rhaenys walked with the Sea Snake, their gazes fixed on a single figure.


    ��Roar!��


    Syrax pped its wings, its topaz-colored scales shining brightly in the sunlight, mboyant and beautiful. Rhaenyra stood beside the dragon, holding her infant daughter and cooing softly to her.


    Half an hour earlier, Rhaegar had departed with Hena and Aemon on their dragons. Unwilling to remain in Driftmark, Rhaenyra decided to set off for King��s Landing.


    ��Rhaenyra, be careful on the road,�� Rhaenys said, her voice heavy with guilt. The assassination attempt on her nephews and niece had taken ce on hernd, and she couldn��t escape the me.


    Rhaenyra smiled reassuringly. ��When this is all over, I will bring Rhaena back.�� She didn��t trust Driftmark��s safety and had her children pack their belongings.


    Sea Snake, pale and leaning on his crutches, limped over. ��The Iron Throne is surrounded by wolves. Your Grace has a n, but as a queen you need to give more advice.��


    Rhaenyra didn��t hesitate. ��The assassin who harmed my son was on a Braavosi ship.��Sea Snake��s words were just short of using Rhaegar of acting impulsively. However, Braavos was also one of the culprits. If the three dragons could deter them, she would support Rhaegar��s actions.


    Sea Snake sighed and stepped back, speechless. Rhaenys, understanding her husband��s worries, felt helpless. Vntis and ver''s Bay were allied and eyeing the Disputed Lands. Provoking Braavos could be dangerous.


    ��Your Grace, we are ready to depart,�� Erryk reported after the cargo was loaded.


    ��Thank you,�� Rhaenyra replied, grabbing the softdder extending from Syrax��s saddle with her bare hands.


    Suddenly, Daeron stepped out of the crowd, full of apologies. ��I still have to serve as a wine steward. The watch on Driftmark is over, so I��ll return to King��s Landing to console my nephews.��


    Rhaenyra looked around before asking, ��Have you found Aegon yet?��


    ��The patrol soldiers are still searching,�� Daeron admitted, blushing with embarrassment. After ensuring Baelon''s safety, Aegon had slipped away alone. Though still on Driftmark, he had lost contact.


    He wasn��t in any danger; the assassins had been killed. This wasn��t the first time Aegon had disappeared.


    Rhaenyra was speechless but said nothing. She immediately climbed onto Syrax��s back.


    As the dragon took to the sky and the ship sailed out of the harbor, the Sea Snake and the others watched them depart.


    On the vast sea, the royal ship, like a red crystal, sailed back alone.


    Roar!


    Syrax led the flight, soaring above ckwater Bay to escort the ship safely. On the deck, many guards looked up in awe. nking the bright yellow dragon were two smaller ones, one emerald green and the other pale green. They resembled leaves, highlighting Syrax''s nobility and grace.


    ...


    Inside the Cabin.


    Bang! Bang!


    Arrows struck the targets set up in the corridor, embedding themselves in the straw man''s chest. Ba, holding a Myrish triple crossbow, clenched her lower lip, directing her frustration at the straw target.


    ��Great, right in the bull''s-eye,�� Baelonmented.


    ��Don''t praise me, it''s too close,�� Ba replied, dismissing thepliment.


    Baelon stood farther away, on his toes, peering through the window at the three dragons in the sky. His ears twitched as he sensed Ba wiping her sweat. Yearning in his eyes, he joked, ��You should really ride a dragon with Aemon. He''s the only one having any fun. I wonder how he''ll feel when he gets back.��


    Ba put down the crossbow, her mood sour. ��Forget it. No matter how good you are at riding a dragon, you��re still running for your life when you get off.��


    She thought about being chased through the city that morning and wished she could disappear into the ground. Baelon, looking away,mented, ��That''s different. You should ride a dragon if you have one. My father says there��s no rush to hone your martial arts.��


    ��Tsk, you think everyone is like you, with the Kingsguard protecting you?�� Ba retorted indignantly, ncing at Ser Arryk standing at the end of the corridor.


    Baelon, embarrassed, said, ��That��s not what I said.��


    Compared to the three brothers, the sisters did not have Kingsguard specifically assigned to protect them. Their foster mother, Rhaenyra, had made efforts to increase the number of femalepanions and escorts who usually apanied them.


    Ba, feeling awkward, said, ��Is not that, I just feel a little...��


    She trailed off, unable to express her grievances. She walked to a cabin door and leaned against it. Through the wooden door, faint sobs were audible. It was her sister Rhaena��s room.


    Baelon walked silently to her side and held her hand in silentfort. He could feel her struggle to suppress her emotions.


    Ba looked out the window and suddenly said, ��I hate my father.��


    ��Why?�� Baelon asked, looking up.


    Ba turned her head away, hiding her tears. ��He betrayed my mother and left Rhaena and me to fend for ourselves.��


    Rhaena''s session was being questioned, and their parents were absent. Even when they were in danger and needed their parents'' love the most, they only received a little from their foster mother, Rhaenyra.


    She and Rhaena had their own parents, and thinking about the root of everything, she deeply resented her father in Tyrosh.


    ��This...�� Baelon felt sympathy and couldn''t agree with his elders'' actions.


    The two held hands and leaned against the hard door. The low sobs behind the door provided a poignant background music.


    ...


    Late at Night in Braavos.


    A roar of anger echoed throughout Braavos, apanied by the flickering of beautiful green fire. The Titan of Braavos burned, its bronze armor and rope grass skirts consumed by mes, leaving only charred remains. Fires raged in the ports, devouring goods in the warehouses and merchant ships at anchor. The garrison rushed out, only to be engulfed by Dragonfire in an instant. For a time, the entire Free City was reduced to a living hell of wailing and mes.


    ...


    The Sealord''s Pce


    Under the night sky, three dragons pierced through the clouds, destroying the heavily fortified army andnding safely in the fountain square. Cannibal, ck as coal with dead, lifeless green eyes, stood like a mountain. Its breath, tinged with green fire, inadvertently evaporated the fountain.


    Dreamfyre and Sheepstealer, one on each side of the ck dragon,y on their sides, their vertical pupils surveying the surroundings. Whenever the wind stirred, sulfurous Dragonfire appeared in an instant.


    Inside the Sealord''s Great Hall, Sealord Sparda shouted at the maidservants to quickly put on his armor, his heterochromatic eyes fixed on the outside world. ��Damn it! What��s the Iron Throne doing, sending three dragons to attack for no reason!?�� Several advisers trembled, cursing the sudden appearance of the enemy.


    ��Shut up!�� Sparda was hysterical under the immense pressure of the dragons. Outside the window, the three dragons were motionless, like stone sculptures carved by the hand of death. But their enormous, bronze-colored eyes seemed to extinguish the free life of everything in heaven and earth.


    Through the greenish Dragonfire of the surrounding buildings, Sparda could see some detailed images.


    The ck dragon raised its back and slowly crawled to the ground. A silver-haired figure sat firmly on the dragon��s back, even when the dragon swayed. Suddenly, the figure stood up tall, slid down the dragon��s back, and held the reins. At the same time, two other dragon riders followed closely behind on the backs of the other dragons.


    Sparda clung to the ss window, staring intently without blinking, afraid of missing a single detail. Under the dim night sky, the silver-haired figure walked towards the Sealord��s Pce, looking up at it. In an instant, Sparda saw the pair of cold purple eyes and broke into a cold sweat. He knew that the other party had discovered him.


    ��Gulp...�� Sparda swallowed hard and asked, ��Has the rescue letter been sent? When will the Iron Bank send someone?��


    One of the advisers stepped forward, trembling. ��The messenger has already been sent, but I don��t know if he can safely pass through the streets burned by Dragonfire, and...��


    He stopped mid-sentence. The Iron Bank was rich and powerful, but it couldn��t immediately send out an army, let alone a suicide squad that could contend with three dragons.


    ��Bastard!!�� Sparda, shocked and furious, pounded the balcony with all his might. Then he turned, making a swift decision. ��Follow me and meet the king of the Iron Throne.��


    If you can''t beat them, you have to join them. He had recently received secret reports from Vntis and Pentos and noticed the frequent trade with ver''s Bay. The Sealord had already guessed the Iron Throne''s intentions.


    Outside the Pce


    The gates of the Sealord''s Pce were wide open. Sparda, his face ashen, led a group of advisers with cramped legs out of the pce. At the bottom of the pce steps, three silver-haired figures had already arrived, arms crossed, looking up at their host.


    ��Roar...�� Dreamfyre stretched its neck, its wings supporting it as it crawled forward, its light blue dragon head level with the Sealord''s pce. After several years of growth, this older female dragon had made great strides in size. Over 100 meters long from head to tail, it had be the third adult dragon after the Cannibal and Vhagar, climbing to the top tier inbat power.


    Swish! Rhaegar unsheathed his sword, Truefyre, from his waist. The ruby glowed, and he aimed it straight at the new Sealord, who stood on the edge of several frightened advisers. The sound of the sword was like a signal. Hena followed suit, unsheathing her sword, the Long Summer, its slender de glistening with cold light.


    Dreamfyre''s pupils constricted, and the dragon''s head slowly lowered, its mouth converging into a ball of light blue Dragonfire.


    At that moment, Rhaegar tilted his head and said softly, ��Sealord, would you like to talk?��


    Sparda''s heart skipped a beat. His legs froze in ce, and he hesitated to agree.


    Shifting perspectives, although Rhaegar and his party were clearly below the high tform, their presence and the looming threat of the dragons made them seem higher, dominating the Sealord and his retinue.


    ...


    King''s Landing, Red Keep


    Rhaenyra had just finished washing and was slipping into a soft silk nightgown. She took a sip of strong wine, preparing for bed. Raising children was tiring enough, but dealing with assassination attempts made her feel like she had failed in her duties.


    Knock, knock!


    There was a knock on the door. Rhaenyra called out, ��Elinda,e in.��


    Creak


    The door opened, and a thin maid entered. More urately, she was ady-in-waiting. Elinda carefully closed the door behind her, holding a letter. ��Your Grace, the ck Swan of Lys.��


    ��Give it to me.��


    Rhaenyra took the envelope, and a ck and white rose medallion came into view. Johanna Swann, the famous courtesan of Lys, known as the ��ck Swan,�� had be a key ally after the war in the Narrow Sea. Rhaegar''s army had installed her as the rightful Grand Master of Lys, and she had pledged loyalty to Rhaenyra.


    Rhaenyra opened the letter and read it carefully. Her frown deepened, and soon she was furious. ��That bastard Daemon has betrayed Laena after all.��


    Bang!


    The letter hit the table, and Elinda caught a glimpse of the contents.


    ��White Worm is pregnant, and the Prince Tyrosh is nning a wedding.��


    Elinda was shocked and lowered her head in shame. Laena was one of the councilors in Lys, partly due to her position and partly because Lady Mysaria, known as ��White Worm,�� had almost broken with Daemon. Now that Mysaria was pregnant, her marriage to the royal family seemed unstoppable.


    "Damn bastard!" Rhaenyra''s anger red and she let out a rare swear word. In recent years, she and Laena had be close friends, sharing simr fates. Seeing her friend''s rights vited made her feel indignant.


    Elinda''s body trembled as she ced the letter on the candle me to burn it. Rhaenyra sighed and raised her hand to her forehead. ��Forget it, I''ll deal with itter.��


    Elinda whispered, ��I''ll do it. Sara is taking care of the little princess.��


    Hearing this, Rhaenyra patted her friend''s shoulder, feeling a bit relieved. The maids who served the Princess were also divided into different sses. The highest status was naturally thedies-in-waiting, girls from noble families who had received a good education.


    Elinda came from House Massey in the Crownds and was one of thedies-in-waiting who had grown up with Rhaenyra. In private, the master and servant had a very good rtionship.


    Rhaenyra sat down at the table and suddenly asked, ��How are Rhaena and Maekar?��


    ��The children were scared.��


    Elinda replied, ��Lady Rhaena is still crying in her room, and the little Prince is already asleep.��


    ��Haha, Maekar can eat and sleep through anything,�� Rhaenyra smiled helplessly.

 Chapter 510: A Valyrian Steel Weapon

    Chapter 510: A Valyrian Steel Weapon


    Red Keep, the Temple.


    A dimly lit, enclosed space, where the candlelight created a serene atmosphere. A small figure sat at the edge of the altar, surrounded by white candles. In front of him was the hideous skull of the ck Dread, Balerion.


    ��Prince, if you don��t go back to bed, you��ll be too tired to get up in the morning,�� Ser Steffon said, standing to the side, patiently trying to persuade him.


    ��Shh~�� Maekar��s face scrunched up, his eyebrows furrowing.


    Steffon could do nothing but nod in understanding. He had been assigned to the little prince and had toply with the boy��s wishes.


    ��Thank you,�� Maekar whispered sincerely, his big, watery eyes full of gratitude. Without waiting for Steffon to respond, the little one crept up to the altar.


    The altar was surrounded by a dense array of butter candles, most of which were burning brightly. Maekar crossed the mes with ease, as if they weren''t there. Soon, he was at the jaw of Balerion��s skull.


    Maekar looked up at the sky, his little face full of confusion, and reached out to touch the still-warm dragon skull. He had lost his dragon egg, a loss with deeper meaning, one that could never be recovered.


    ��Father said Balerion would protect us,�� Maekar murmured, sping his hands in prayer. ��Balerion, you helped my grandfather and father. Please help me tonight.��The huge dragon skull and the small silver-haired boy created a poignant contrast in the dim candlelight. Steffon remained silent, watching the little prince who was not even as thick as a dragon��s tooth. Maekar knelt, his body a small ball, resembling a devout believer in the gods.


    ��Bye, Balerion,�� Maekar finally whispered, taking a deep breath and getting up to say goodbye. He turned to see Steffon staring at him and tilted his head. ��Ser, help me.��


    He walked to the edge of the altar and opened his arms. Steffon snapped back to reality, thinking for a moment that he was seeing His Grace as a child, and hurried forward. ��Prince, are you going to rest now?��


    Maekar, obediently carried down to the ground, pursed his lips. ��No, Balerion told me.��


    ��Told you what?�� Steffon asked, confused.


    Maekar looked up, his eyes wide. ��Balerion told me that tonight is not a good night for sleeping.��


    He walked to the chapel door, holding the frame with one hand, his expression as mysterious as that of a little, superstitious wizard. ��It told me that a dragon will be tamed soon!��


    ...


    Braavos.


    ��Roar!��


    Three dragons rose into the air, leaping over the city engulfed in mes, and flew towards the Narrow Sea. As they passed a small floating ind connected by a bridge, a gray building below stood out. Rhaegar seemed to sense it. He looked down at it in the moonlight and whispered, ��The House of ck and White.��


    The headquarters of the Faceless Men, the most feared building in all of Braavos.


    Rhaegar gave a light p of his hand and issued an order.


    ��Roar!��


    Cannibal swooped down, diving into the floating ind area and circling the House of ck and White. Rhaegar watched the gray building with its closed doors, making noment.


    Moments earlier, he had had a friendly chat with Sealord Sparda. In the name of the Iron Throne, he had borrowed another 500,000 gold dragons, with a maximum repayment period of 60 years. The two sides had also signed a treaty. The Iron Throne would dered war, and Braavos was not allowed to intervene in any way, or the debtor would be entitled to cancel the debt. It was an alternative means of preventing Braavos from leading an attack on the Iron Throne.


    The three dragons were powerful enough to burn everyone in the Sealord��s pce to death, but the group behind the Iron Bank still lived. They had enough money to buy off the world��s mercenaries. The money was scattered globally, buried in secret vaults. Even if Braavos was burned to the ground, it would not be found.


    Rhaegar''s disy of force served as a timely warning to Braavos. They could either swallow their pride or go to war in haste. As it turned out, merchants were a bunch of rats who sought profit and avoided danger.


    The Iron Throne sessfully borrowed the money, and 500,000 gold dragons were delivered to the Myr Bank three dayster.


    ��Roar!��


    Cannibal roared, spraying Dragonfire over the outer moat of the gray building before carrying Rhaegar back into the sky. Rhaegar pulled himself together and said, ��Let''s go, partner.��


    During his negotiations with the Sealord, Rhaegar had made very specific and realistic demands. From that night onward, any harm that befell his children��be it assassination, disease, or even a fall from a horse��would result in Rhaegar riding his dragon to Braavos and burning the Sealord''s pce to the ground. It was an unreasonable and blunt threat, but Rhaegar didn''t care.


    As Saera Targaryen once said, Westeros was too cold for the hot-blooded Targaryens. Sitting on the Iron Throne, Rhaegar told the world that the Targaryens were the Dragonlords, and wherever a true dragon went, it would bring blood and fire.


    Rhaegar had Syrio the Water Dancer and Sara the Faceless, clear any signs of the threat posed by the Faceless Men.


    Hiring a Faceless Man to assassinate him would cost the Iron Throne a year''s ie. Value was a measure of power. He dared not gamble on whether someone would hire a Faceless Man to assassinate him, especially if the target was someone close to him. Even he himself was not 100% safe��a cup of poison could take him to Balerion.


    To avoid such idents, it was better to be thorough. Mutual checks and bnces were the only way to ensure longsting peace. This House of ck and White should stay in Braavos. Westeros did not wee it.


    ...


    The Night Deepens.


    Three dragons flew out of Braavos,nding in a remote vige.


    ��Quack, quack...��


    A ck raven flew in,nding on a crooked-neck tree far from the dragons. Rhaegar recognized the raven as a pet that Syrio had raised in the Myrish pce. Of the three Free Cities, Myr was closest to the Crownds. Syrio, having withdrawn from Vntis, stayed in Myr as the chief swordsman and Master of Whisperers.


    Rhaegar slid off the dragon��s back, and the raven flew over, carrying a letter box. He opened it and took out the letter, reading it carefully. It contained just two short sentences:


    "Lady Mysaria is pregnant, and Prince Daemon is privately hosting a celebration at a brothel."


    "Vntis has assembled a fleet to try to block ships from the Disputed Lands reaching the Summer Sea."


    This letter provided more detailed information than the one Rhaenyra had received. After reading it, Rhaegar looked up at the sky and closed his eyes.


    Pop!


    A me flickered from his fingertips, burning the small piece of paper.


    Hena and Aemond climbed down from their dragons. Hena, with an innocent look, hugged the slender, long necked Dreamfyre. Aemond strode forward, his one eye gleaming, and asked, ��What��s thetest news?��


    Rhaegar sighed, a slight curl on his lips. ��There are fools who don��t know when to die and are willing to sacrifice themselves to help me aplish my great cause.��


    Daemon��s marriage to multiple wives had been nned by his father. It had broken the alliance between his good uncle and the Sea Snake. Additionally, the Tiger Party in Vntis was unwilling to ept only a portion of Lys��s port taxes, repeatedly provoking trouble. It was a perfect storm.


    The Vryon fleet would crush the ambitious Vntis. In the process, they could enter the Smoking Sea to find the wandering wild young dragon. With the war, troops would be sent everywhere, including the Vale. The opposition factions in the Vale would be mobilized and sent to the battlefield.


    He had watched as Daemon and Laena fought, and behind the scenes, he fanned the mes of conflict, endorsing his uncle��s marriage to Mysaria, the White Worm. With proper financing, he could not only resolve his eldest daughter��s inheritance but also tear away thest shreds of decency between his uncle and House Vryon.


    It was a win-win situation! Of course, these events required a heroic sacrifice to stir the stagnant waters of the present. Vntis was the perfect victim��strong enough, but not too strong.


    Rhaegar let out a long breath and nced sideways at Aemond, who looked eager. ��Go back to Storm''s End and discuss the marriage with Cassandra.��


    Aemond��s face changed slightly, showing reluctance.


    Rhaegar, knowing his brother well, smiled. ��Then, mobilize the Stornds troops and wait for my order.��


    At this, Aemond''s face brightened, and he responded confidently, ��Good. Wait for my news.��


    War was a wonderful word to him. As the second son, only victory in war could bring him glory and make the family proud.


    Rhaegar discarded the burnt paper and called out to Hena, who had been silent. ��Come with me. We''re going to Myr to prepare for the loan from Braavos."


    By the way, he needs to contact The Eyrie.


    Mysaria, the White Worm was a pawn but she really can be as disgusting as a maggot.


    Hena nodded, touched Aemond��s head lightly with her toes, and then climbed onto her dragon��s back. Soon, the siblings were riding away on their dragons.


    Aemond was left alone, his one eye flickering uncertainly as he remembered the touch of his sister''s hand.


    ��Roar?��


    Sheepstealery on the ground, its tail poking the rider. Aemond waved his hand calmly. ��Don''t make a fuss. We still have business to attend to.��


    Sheepstealer shook its head in disdain, snorted heavily, and ignored the rider��s high-running emotions.


    Aemond hesitated for a moment, then bent down to pick up the only remaining piece of paper. The paper, the size of a fingernail, was ckened at the edges and faintly legible with tiny letters.


    ��White Worm, Celebration.��


    Aemond frowned, analyzing the meaning of the two words. Combined with what he had seen on Driftmark and the events of the past few years, It wasn''t difficult to guess that the White Worm must be pregnant, indicating a brewing storm within the royal family.


    His older brother Rhaegar was his role model: wise, brave, and fearless. Unfortunately, Aemond saw him as a coward who was afraid of his wife.


    Rhaenyra had dominated Rhaegar for so many years, and there must have been significant conflict. In Aemond''s view, it was not wrong for a man to marry more than once, especially if he was the king of a country. If possible, he wanted to marry multiple times and find a lover who was his ideal match.


    Rhaena''s plot against Lady Jeyne of The Eyrie made him view her as a jealous woman.


    This was one of the main reasons for his hostility toward Rhaenyra. Aemond believed his eldest brother should be blemish-free.


    Aemond tossed away the scraps of paper and smiled happily. ��My sister should get married soon. My uncle would help with this.��


    He then mounted the back of Sheepstealer. As therge mud-colored dragon spread its wings, he suddenly remembered the scene when the three siblings confronted the Sealord of Braavos. Rhaegar wielded Truefyre, and Hena drew Long Summer. Two Valyrian steel swords��a formidable disy.


    Aemond shook his head and muttered, ��Where can I find a Valyrian steel weapon?��


    He touched the one-eyed dagger at his waist, a gift from his brother, but not suitable for the battlefield. The family had many Valyrian steel weapons: Father��s ckfyre, Rhaenyra��s The Realm��s Delight, Aunt Rhaenys�� Dark Sister. Oh, yes, his brother also had two Valyrian steel weapons: a long spear, ��Dawn,�� that he didn��t use often, and a lost sword, Dragon��s w.


    As he thought about it, Aemond��s eyes lit up. ��House Vryon had a Valyrian scimitar, and Celtigar, who was also from Valyria, seemed to have one weapon as well.��


    The thought grew uncontrobly.


    ��Roar...��


    Sheepstealer soared into the sky, its brown wings covering the bright moon, disappearing into the night in an instant.

 Chapter 511: Night Visit to the Dragonpit

    Chapter 511: Night Visit to the Dragonpit


    Godswood, Red Keep.


    The moon shone brightly, the stars were few, and all was quiet.


    Under the sturdy heart tree in the Godswood, a sloppy girl with ck curly hair paced back and forth, circling the trunk. The ground was covered with fallen red leaves that rustled under her steps. Nettles marveled; it was the first time she had seen such a ce.


    After a while, the sky grew darker.


    Grumble~


    Her empty stomach rumbled. Nettles tightened her belt and sat down on the ground.


    Tap, tap...


    From the Moon Gate, light footsteps approached. A small figure with silver hair poked its head out, bathed in the moonlight.


    ��Baelon!��Nettles noticed him at once and called out excitedly.


    Baelon was startled by the sudden shout and quickly looked around, putting his finger to his lips. ��Shh, don''t make a sound.��


    Nettles patted her bottom and stood up, her eyes shining. ��I''m starving. Did you bring any food?��


    ��Of course.�� Baelon looked pleased with himself and took out a bag from behind him. Then his face fell slightly. ��It''s all leftovers from the kitchen. There''s bread and bacon.��


    He scratched his head and handed it over with a sheepish look.


    ��It''s good to have something to eat,�� Nettles said, grabbing the bag and quickly crouching at the base of the wall to eat. The food was good; besides the bread and bacon, there were pickles and fruit.


    Baelon squatted down beside her, watching curiously. ��Nettles, is it good?��


    Nettles nced sideways and said, ��I''ve never eaten such soft bread in my life.��


    She mmed her fist into her chest, stretching her olive-colored neck, and swallowed it down with a gulp.


    ��Belch~~��


    The difort disappeared, and Nettles let out a long belch, mumbling, ��Eating so well, I��m afraid I��ll be punished by heaven.��


    Baelon rested his hands on his chin, a look of novelty shing in his eyes. Nettles was a new friend from themon folk. Her mother was a prostitute, and she was an illegitimate child and a thief. Because she had helped him avoid an assassination attempt, he had agreed to help her sneak into King''s Landing.


    Nettles continued to eat, savoring every drop of juice from the fruit, chatting as she ate. ��Have you had a chance to console the two sisters?��


    Naturally, she was referring to Ba and Rhaena.


    Baelon watched her eat the yellowed apple, core and all, and replied, ��Ba is asleep, and Rhaena is still crying.��


    In many ways, Nettles and his two foster-sisters seemed to inhabit different worlds.


    Despite her small size, darkplexion, and in face, Nettles was actually 13 years old��seven years older than Baelon and four years older than Ba and Rhaena.


    ording to Nettles, her mother was getting old and struggling to earn money. Nettles was used to living on nine meals spread over three days. If she hadn��t been so clever and learned to steal, she might have been even shorter. But being short had its advantages��it made her harder to catch.


    Her crooked nose and scars were the result of a failed theft attempt, where she was beaten by a brothel client.


    Under the moonlight, the two of them squatted by the wall. Nettles, like a big rat, sniffed out everyst bit of food. She even ate the crumbs off her hands.


    Baelon was silent, thinking about how to repay her for her help.


    Finally, Nettles finished eating and casually put the silk bag into her arms, saying, ��Hey, do you have any money on you?��


    ��My name is not ''Hey.'' That��s rude,�� Baelon frowned, but honestly handed over two gold coins. ��It��s just a little. The Red Keep doesn��t need money.��


    Nettles snatched the coins, her dark eyes full of greed, andughed, ��Of course the Red Keep doesn��t need money, but you can��t live without it outside.��


    Two gold dragons were worth a year''s earnings for her mother. The royal family was rich!


    Baelon reacted. ��You��re leaving, but you don��t have any friends in King��s Landing?��


    He wanted to ask his mother to let Nettles stay on as a maid.


    ��Forget it.�� Nettles stood up and packed her things. ��The Red Keep is wonderful, but it��s not for me.��


    She paused, thinking for a moment. ��I heard that His Grace has opened a royal school for orphans to study in.��


    Baelon was taken aback by the question and answered honestly, ��Yes, but the curriculum is very demanding."


    And the Maesters are not very weing to girls. Even though father has repeatedly requested it, very few women have been admitted.


    "That''s it then," Nettles said, patting Baelon on the shoulder with determination. "You help me get out of the Red Keep, and I''ll try to get into the academy."


    She had sneaked out of the Driftmark to change her fate. Staying in that dark, dank alley would mean a life of beatings and theft, or worse. The pride in her bones told her that stripping for money was too humiliating. Inexplicably, that pride had always carried her through.


    Seeing Nettles so determined, Baelon sighed but agreed, "Okay, you cane with me."


    He had already bribed Ser Arryk, so getting in and out of the Red Keep wasn��t difficult. The two of them walked out of the castle through a secret passage. Arryk had been waiting for a long time, his cold face making Nettles feel ufortable.


    Bang!


    After a long time, the secret door closed. Arryk��s expression was stern, contemting how to warn the Prince against such actions in the future. He was now the personal Kingsguard of the heir to the throne, a position of great importance, as his brother Erryk had previously protected the young king.


    Baelon was still recalling the image of Nettles being crammed into a crate and carried on a boat to be smuggled into King''s Landing. It was a very inspiring decision, much like Ba training hard with the crossbow, constantly striving to improve.


    Baelon took a deep breath and made his decision, paying attention to Arryk��s gaze. ��Ser Arryk.��


    ��What is yourmand?�� Arryk asked, his expression serious.


    Baelon looked up and said, ��Starting tomorrow, you''ll teach me how to practice martial arts.��


    Just like Ser Cole had taught Uncle Aemond. Arryk was filled with a sense of honor at the news, and without hesitation, he said, ��No problem!��


    He paused, then reminded Baelon, ��We should go to bed early so we can get up early for morning practice tomorrow.��


    Arryk had taken on the responsibility of a fencing teacher. Baelon nodded and added, ��We��ll have to get up early tomorrow and check on Maekar. He was really scared today.��


    Arryk, who never said no, responded decisively, ��I��ll speak to Ser Steffon tomorrow and take you to see Prince Maekar.��


    Baelon tilted his head. ��Ser Steffon?��


    ...


    The Scene Shifts


    ��Ser Steffon, you mustn��t run around.��


    At the Bronze Gate of the Dragonpit, Maekar slipped through the open gate, turning to give the Kingsguard, who was holding a horse, a fewst words of advice.


    Steffon, his face dark with fatigue, tied up the horse and followed the Prince in silence.


    Seven hells! Why did he have to go through this? He had been on patrol all night and worked overtime during the day. Finally, when evening came, the little Prince insisted on going to the Dragonpit.


    Steffon sighed inwardly, rubbing his swollen, dark-circled eyes. His already mature face looked even more weathered.


    Maekar, seeing the Kingsguard following him, scrunched up his face and entered the Dragonpit first.


    ...


    Inside the Dragonpit


    ��Roar...��


    A young emerald dragon climbed the iron bridge on the roof, roaring at the full moon. Maekar, with his short legs, looked up in awe at the dragon above him.


    ��Prince!��


    Suddenly, a greeting sounded from the side. Maekar was startled, his face turning pale.


    Maester Maynard of the Dragonpit stood nearby, his pale face showing signs of humility. ��What brings you here at thiste hour?��


    Maekar, recognizing the man, patted his chest in relief. ��Maynard, you scared me.��


    Maynard, the head of the Dragonpit and a long-time acquaintance, looked apologetic. ��It''s gettingte. Is the little Prince out to see the dragons at night?��


    ��Yes!�� Maekar replied, looking around at the empty, dark surroundings. ��I want to see the young dragons without owners.��


    Having lost his dragon egg, Maekar was determined to tame a baby dragon.


    Maynard hesitated for a moment but reluctantly agreed. ��I''ll show you around, but then you have to go back to bed.��


    ��Okay!�� Maekar agreed eagerly.


    At this point, Ser Steffon, looking exhausted, arrived. Maynard nodded respectfully to the White Knight and ordered the Dragonkeeper on duty to bring the young dragons.


    Currently, the Dragonpit housed several young dragons. There were the Trickster, Moondancer, and Morning, all with owners, and three unowned dragons with bad tempers.


    ��Roar!��


    ��Roar!��


    Suddenly, two different roars echoed throughout the Dragonpit.


    Hoo-hoo!


    Maekar looked up to see a silvery dragon emerge, shining in the moonlight like a crystal carving. The Dragonkeeper ran out, clutching a staff, soothing the restless young dragon in High Valyrian.


    Before Maekar could take in the sight, the moon was obscured by a pair of scarlet wings.


    ��Roar!��


    Like the deep ck of the night, Dragonfire cut through the sky. Thick, pungent smoke filled the air, burning the already old walls. In the blink of an eye, a young dragon with ck scales and blood-red dorsal fins and wing membranes burst out.


    ��Bloodwing, be quiet!��


    The old Dragonkeeper, his face calm, slowly approached with a bamboo staff in hand.


    ��Roar!��


    Iragaxys roared, the chains on its neck and hind legs rattling as the furious dragon struggled against its restraints, creating a scene of chaos.


    ��Prince, get back!�� Steffon��s spirit lifted as he quickly covered Maekar, retreating with him.


    Maekar didn��t resist, hiding under Steffon��s white robe while watching with wide eyes.


    Creak, creak...


    The shadow of the silver dragon crashed into the wall, its ws piercing the stone and revealing its true form: a young dragon with a silvery white body and a lithe posture. Its golden pupils contracted, fixed on the ck dragon below.


    The Dragonkeeper struck his staff and spoke soothingly, ��Stormcloud, return to the nest.��


    ��Roar!��


    Stormcloud obediently jumped to the floor, confronting Iragaxys from a distance of several dozen meters. Iragaxys''s pupils were cold and unemotional, thin streams of Dragonfire escaping its snout. It crouched, ready to fight.


    The two young dragons, one silver and one ck, both had violent temperaments. Whenever they met, there was a risk of losing control.


    Maynard hobbled over, introducing them one by one, ��That��s Stormcloud, a hatchling from Dragonstone.��


    Maekar chimed in immediately, ��That one is Iragaxys, the young dragon my father caught. It��s the most ill-tempered dragon in the Dragonpit.��


    Maynard was momentarily stunned and thenughed helplessly, ��That��s right.��


    "Roar!" ��Roar!��


    The two young dragons continued their standoff, their arrogance growing. Stormcloud was older, over ten meters in length, and had officially entered sub-adulthood. Iragaxys, who spent most of its time in the dungeon, grew even faster and was now about the same size as Stormcloud.


    Maynard crouched down and said with concern, ��Prince, the two young dragons are dangerous. You should go back to the Red Keep.��


    The two dragons, full of fighting spirit, were indifferent to the Dragonkeepers, but Maekar was still young, and even a small scratch could be significant.


    Maekar held Ser Steffon��s white robe tightly, his eyes flicking back and forth between Stormcloud and Iragaxys. He shook his head. ��There��s another dragon. I want to see that one.��


    ��Are you sure? That dragon is still sleeping.�� Maynard groaned.


    Maekar nodded vigorously, ��I don��t want to miss it.��


    The two young dragons in front of him were too restless to pay him any attention. His intuition told him there was a more suitable young dragon waiting for him.

 Chapter 512: Tyraxes Recognizes a Master!

    Chapter 512: Tyraxes Recognizes a Master!


    Maynard reluctantly agreed, ordering the Dragonkeepers to separate the two young dragons before leading the little Prince into a dragon pit.


    ...


    The passage outside was lined with rough masonry, and soon the surroundings transitioned into a cave. Maekar looked closely, stepping carefully over the broken stones.


    Click!


    Steffon lit a torch and walked ahead, carefully clearing a path. Maynard, with a bitter expression, cautioned, ��That young dragon is sleeping. It��s best not to disturb it.��


    A young dragon, though not fully grown, was still formidable. When angered, it was a force to be reckoned with.


    Maekar said nothing, his big blue eyes filled with curiosity about everything around him.


    Crack!


    Steffon froze, having stepped on a bone resembling a sheep��s rib. Maekar wrinkled his nose and sniffed the air. ��I smell dragon.��The scent of sulfur mixed with the stench of dragon dung was unmistakable and hard to describe.


    ��We need to be more careful from now on,�� Maynard advised, grabbing the little Prince and cautioning Sir Steffon. ��Young dragons are fierce. Don��t go near them.��


    He could already see that the little Prince was eager to tame a dragon, reminiscent of the first time His Grace had entered Dreamfyre��sir many years ago. Maynard, now in his middle years, did not want any more idents.


    Steffon��s muscles were tense, his long sword half-drawn at his waist. He kicked the skeleton blocking his way aside. Maekar, caught between the two, promised obediently, ��I won��t disturb it.��


    Before long, the stench of dragon permeated the air, and the torches flickered in the oxygen-deficient underground. Maekar held his breath and stared intently into the depths of the dark cave.


    ng!


    A dragon''s silhouette emerged, and the chains rattled. Through the dim light, arge figure could be seen lying on the ground, surrounded by various leftovers. Nearby, piles of dried excrementy hard and dry, resembling stctites, protecting the young dragon in the middle.


    "Don''t be nervous," Maekar said, taking out a torch and boldly stepping forward.


    ��Prince...�� Steffon was shocked and tried to reach out to stop him.


    ��Shh!�� Maekar whispered, ducking to the side.


    He felt it��the big dragon, the sleeping giant, had awakened.


    ��Roar!��


    As if receiving some kind of guidance, the shadow of the dragon in the depths suddenly burst forth, pulling at the chains and making them rattle. Maekar stopped in his tracks, looking hopefully at the angry beast.


    A young dragon with silver and ck scales, green scales on its side, and a misty coloration on its wing membranes emerged. The young dragon was not small, over seven meters from head to tail, and it had grown faster than its peers.


    At that moment, the young dragon poked out its huge head and opened its mouth, spraying Dragonfire at the stone wall.


    ��Roar!��


    The gray Dragonfire, like smoke or mist, clung to the charred stone wall, scraping off ayer of stone skin. Maekar raised his hand to shield his eyes, watching with one blue eye, unblinking.


    ��Stay calm, Tyraxes!�� Maynard stepped out from behind, picked up the little Prince in one arm, and spoke to the dragon in High Valyrian. Steffon waved a torch to protect the two behind him.


    ��Roar...��


    Tyraxes growled, the sound of chains scraping against the ground as the dragon crawled out of the crypt, using its wings to support itself. The gray Dragonfire clung to the stone ceiling above, intensifying the light in the confined space.


    Tyraxes'' pupils were cold and unfeeling, its fangs jagged, staring at the three intruders. Maekar, held under Maynard''s arm, struggled to get a better view. Soon, he saw clearly��a silver-ck dragon with rare sticky Dragonfire.


    Most importantly, the young dragon''s head was huge!


    Maekar''s eyes widened as he repeatedly examined the unusual young dragon. Tyraxes'' head wasrge and wide, like a steel gate with a spear inserted. Dense thorns and horns grew from the back of its head, lower jaw, and neck, giving it a formidable appearance. At first nce, this young dragon was born to fight.


    Maynard and Steffon looked at Tyraxes nervously, stepping back with each cautious movement. Suddenly, Maekar shouted, ��Tyraxes!��


    The two men were so scared they were sweating, bracing themselves for the young dragon��s wrath. Fortunately, the dragons in the pit were all chained to prevent them from fighting each other. Only when His Grace tended to the dragons were the shackles removed.


    Maekar��s shout startled the aloof Tyraxes. It blinked slightly, its ferocious dragon head facing Maekar, and its amber pupils revealing a hint of doubt.


    Maekar broke free of his restraints and trotted towards the young dragon, extending a hand. ��Tyraxes, you belong to me!��


    ��?�� Tyraxes, cautious by nature, backed away slightly. Maekar, disying extreme bravery, approached the young dragon and looked up at it. ��Come with me. Leave the Dragonpit.��


    Tyraxes lowered its head, and their pupils met. The dragon and the boy looked at each other, and a faint bond gradually formed. Maekar clenched his lower lip, his eyes glowing. His father had said that to tame a dragon, one must be bold. Either you ride the dragon, or the dragon rides you.


    Tyraxes rxed its guard, lowering its head until it was parallel with Maekar. Inheriting the bloodline of Morghul, its dragon head was exceptionallyrge��three times the size of an average young dragon. Maekar stood in front of it, and with its mouth slightly open, Tyraxes could have swallowed him whole.


    But Tyraxes didn��t. Sniffing the familiar scent, Tyraxes was ovee by a sense of memory, and the irritability that had awakened in it disappeared. The amber pupils, representing the anger and cruelty of the beast, softened.


    Instead of a fierce creature, Tyraxes saw a cute boy with tinum hair and blue eyes.


    Maekar involuntarily shuddered, feeling an inexplicable connection in his heart. The strength of this connection rose rapidly as he and Tyraxes locked eyes.


    ��Tyraxes,�� Maekar muttered, his eyes zed over.


    ��Roar!�� Tyraxes stood up, its huge mouth approaching, fangs piercing Maekar��s clothes and gently lifting him up.


    Plop!


    The dragon''s neck turned, and Maekar''s legs spread apart, firmly seating him on the dragon''s back.


    ��Wait, the chains...�� Maynard''s expression changed as he saw the young dragon about to leave the pit.


    ��Roar!�� Tyraxes ignored him, spitting a mouthful of gray Dragonfire at the chains holding its hind legs.


    Zlaa~


    The Dragonfire quickly melted the thick chains into molten iron. Then, Tyraxes spread its misty wings.


    Maekar clung to the dragon��s back, his little legs straining, his face flushed with excitement. ��Tyraxes, fly!��


    Themand, given in a pure ent of the binding spell, was immediately understood. Tyraxes knocked Maynard and Steffon aside as it flew through the narrow tunnel, its wings pping wildly, dislodging loose rocks.


    Maekar clutched his head, feeling the strain against the scales on his small chest, but he wasn''t afraid. Heughed, his mouth wide open.


    ��Tyraxes, go!��


    "Roar!"


    Tyraxes burst out of the tunnel, its silver-ck body like a chariot, crashing into the brazier in front of the dragon pit. Stormcloud and Iragaxys, whose emotions had calmed, held their ground. The appearance of Tyraxes instantly broke the stalemate.


    Without waiting for the two young dragons to react, Tyraxes pped its wings and flew out of the Bronze Gate, ignoring the Dragonkeepers'' attempts to stop it.


    The night was dark, the moon bright.


    Tyraxes soared into the sky, with Maekar��s cries of joy and surprise echoing behind. Maekar giggled, instinctively hugging the dragon��s neck, looking down at King��s Landing bathed in moonlight.


    ��Dracarys!�� hemanded. Gray Dragonfire spewed forth.


    Maekar was so excited that he circled the Dragonpit several times with Tyraxes. He knew Balerion would not lie to a child. If the dark red dragon egg couldn��t hatch a dragon, he would tame one himself.


    From now on, he would also be a great dragon rider.


    ...


    Dragonpit


    The Dragonkeepers were alerted and ran out of the gate, looking at the young dragon soaring in the night sky.


    Maynard, leaning on his walking stick, hopped out and sighed in relief, ��Thank the gods, the little Prince is safe and sound.��


    Hisst lesson from His Grace matter had cost him a leg, but he couldn''t afford to lose another.


    Steffon clutched his chest, his face pale. ��Hurry and inform the Red Keep. Don''t let the queen worry.�� Tyraxes''s impact had been forceful, and it was a close call��he almost threw up his dinner.


    ...


    Red Keep


    Rhaenyra had said goodbye to Elinda and was lying in bed, tossing and turning. A piercing dragon roar caught her attention. She rolled out of bed and stood at the window, looking out.


    On Rhaenys��s Hill, clusters of firelight lit up. A dragon, perfectly blending into the darkness, soared through the clouds, carrying a little boy with silver hair.


    ��Maekar!?�� Rhaenyra��s eyes widened as she immediately recognized her child.


    ...


    The Next Day in Myr


    Rhaegar, shirtless, sat at his desk, facing the first rays of the morning sun, and wielding his brush. The huge ss floor-to-ceiling windows in front of him offered a clear view of the beautifulndscape outside the Magister''s Pce.


    After years of renovation, Myr had officially entered a period of vigorous development. Various crafts flourished, and the port collected a significant amount of tax revenue. With the fertilend of the Disputed Lands as a backdrop,rge and small ntations, farnd, and fruit groves had been developed, making it easy to support the millions of people living in the Free Cities.


    Fruit farmers and vendors could be seen everywhere on the streets, haggling and conducting business��a stark contrast to the very and oppression of the past.


    Rhaegar nced at the bustling scene, not particrly interested, and continued writing his message. He opened the letter he was writing and found three more letters waiting to be sealed.


    ...


    Swish, swish, swish...


    The quill stopped, and Rhaegar signed the letter with a flourish. Slipping it into the envelope, he smiled with satisfaction. In total, there were four letters, each destined for a raven heading to Winterfell in the North, White Harbor, The Eyrie in the Vale, and Gulltown.


    In the letters, he requested White Harbor and Gulltown to send patrol ships to monitor Braavos'' every move. As lords of Winterfell and The Eyrie, it was imperative they paid attention to this matter. A war against Vntis was imminent, and sometimes, agreements were worthless. Braavos, rich and potentially dangerous, needed to be watched.


    ��White Harbor and Gulltown will contain Braavos, which should have a greater deterrent effect than a real one,�� Rhaegar analyzed, recing his quill with a graving knife.


    He selected a piece of stone and carefully began carving an inscription resembling the one on the Spatial Ne. His skill in stone carving had never waned. On the round wooden desk in his office, various sculptures were meticulously arranged.


    The most conspicuous set was a damaged map of The Lands of the Long Summer. The copsed Fourteen mes were clearly visible, as well as the vast, fertile ins. In a corner by the sea, a stone carving of a dragon stood out. Upon closer inspection, the dragon''s head resembled Balerion.


    The area beneath the stone sculpture marked the Targaryen territory, once imed by the exiled Aenar. Rhaegar had repeatedly surveyed it. That remote area, adjacent to The Gulf of Grief, might not have beenpletely destroyed. If necessary, it could be possible to return to the ancestralnds and retrieve some of the treasures left behind by their ancestors, such as special minerals and Soul Restoring Orchids.


    Hum...


    The engraver carefully carved the stone, the inscription glowing faintly. Rhaegar became more serious, holding his breath and concentrating. With each stroke of the knife, he ensured his pressure was neither too light nor too heavy. The magic of fire transmitted in a steady stream.

 Chapter 513: Baela’s Inheritance

    Chapter 513: Ba��s Inheritance


    The inscriptions became clearer as the de cut through them. The magic of fire was infused into the stone, connecting the inscriptions like a thin thread.


    Rhaegar''s expression was tense, a drop of sweat appearing on his forehead. After a few seconds, he waspletely absorbed in his work, cutting the final stroke toplete the sequence of the inscriptions.


    Pop!


    Suddenly, the fire magic went haywire, and a burst of fireworks exploded. The stone instantly shattered, turning into a pile of dust.


    ��Huh! It still didn''t work,�� Rhaegar sighed, his face tensing slightly. He let out a long breath. Despite years of imitating spatial inscriptions, he had yet to sessfully create them.


    ��Without the knowledge of the past, it is difficult to replicate the Dragonlord''s great work,�� Rhaegar muttered to himself. If this didn��t work, he would find a smith and learn more skills.


    As he pondered, a pair of white, delicate arms wrapped around his neck from behind, pressing lightly and softly on his back. Feeling the touch of skin like condensed milk, Rhaegar grabbed the mischievous little hand on his chest. He didn''t need to turn around to know who it was.


    ��You failed again,�� Hena''s voice was hoarse as she rested her chin on Rhaegar''s shoulder, rubbing it gently and intimately.


    ��Yes, I''m used to it,�� Rhaegar replied, holding her hands and leaning his head back.Through the ss window in front of him, the bedroom scene was clearly visible. Hena''s long hair was loose, and she wore a nightgown. Her slender bodyy on top of him, her hair falling over her temples, her eyes slightly tired. She yawned gently, her face lookingnguid and serene.


    Rhaegar admired her beauty, feeling his mood calm. Cannibal and Dreamfyre were excellent long-distance flyers, and the siblings had arrived in Myr after midnight. Free from the constraints of King''s Landing, they had indulged in pleasure together.


    Rhaegar had not slept a wink, getting up early to write letters. Hena hadn''t gone to bed until dawn, so it was still less than two hourster.


    Rhaegar closed his eyes slightly, savoring the warmth of the night. A quiet, little beauty can always soothe the heart of a restless man, giving him time to replenish his energy.


    ��Is it the material?�� Hena tilted her head, trying to help her brother. ��Would it be better if it were made of Valyrian steel?��


    Rhaegar chuckled, ��It��s not the material.��


    ��But your carving skills are already better than the best craftsmen in Westeros,�� Hena frowned slightly, picking up a handful of stone shavings. ��The Space Bracelet and Ne are both made of Valyrian steel.��


    Her eyes nced at a bamboo basket under the table, filled with simr bits of stone. This was not the first failure, and it was certainly not the closest to sess.


    Rhaegar patiently exined, ��Valyrian steel is hard to find, and the problem lies with the control of fire magic.��


    A mature inscription sequence is like a unique pearl. Comparing the magic of fire to a thread, all the pearls are strung together. For half a year, Rhaegar had been stuck at this step. After much reflection, he realized that the problem was the restlessness and instability of the fire magic. Even if twisted into a thread, it could not be used to connect each inscription.


    Hena looked at her brother with a puzzled expression, noticing the fine sweat on his forehead. She suddenly realized, ��Not enough spirit?��


    ��Yes!�� Rhaegar nodded slightly, showing a look of satisfaction that his sister was teachable.


    Hena''s expression darkened, and she muttered, ��Then it��s probably a problem with the material. Maybe I can find you a piece of Valyrian steel.��


    Spirit was a rare word. In Westeros, knights trained their bodies and built their strength. The Dragonlord family chronicles mentioned the existence of bloodmages and pyromancers.


    Especially after Rhaegar''s session and the unification of the Binding Spell, the royal family learned to mobilize the fire magic in their blood. However, the manifestation of the spirit only existed in their weak-minded father, Viserys. For many years, Viserys'' mental state was very poor. At best, he was weak, and at worst, he slept for days at a time.


    Now that her brother had mentioned Spirit, Hena felt powerless to help, even if she wanted to. Rhaegar saw her distress and gave her a gentle nudge with his head,ughing. ��Don��t worry, I��ll seed sooner orter.��


    Hena pursed her lips and silently stared at the stone sculptures on the round table. The Smoking Sea, The Lands of the Long Summer, the Dragon... She knew that her brother was always thinking about returning to the Freedholdnd to find the relics from his dreams.


    The brother and sister kept quiet, leaning on each other.


    After a while, Hena noticed a few letters on the desk and suddenly said, ��Aemond.��


    ��What��s wrong?�� Rhaegar asked curiously.


    ��Nothing, just a little observation.�� Hena tilted her head, not hiding anything. ��Aemond has been very moodytely, and I��m a little worried about Cassandra.��


    Aemond was already an adult, and the marriage contract had not been fulfilled for a long time. She was concerned for her brother, as she had heard some troubling rumors.


    Rhaegar frowned. It was an issue that needed careful thought. Aemond��s sexual proclivities were influenced by Aegon and Alicent. One had deliberately done him a disservice by choosing a brothel for Aemond to lose his virginity. The other often ignored the second son, causing Aemond to prefer thepany of older women.


    Hena knew the truth and said in a low voice, ��He is very anxious. If he continues like this, he will wear himself out.��


    Rhaegar thought for a moment and said seriously, ��Don��t worry. I��ll go to Storm��s End when I have time and talk to both sides.�� If Aemond really dared to fall ill, he would ��reason�� with him and persuade him.


    Hena nodded in agreement and then got down to business. ��Shall I ride Dreamfyre back to Summerhall?��


    Rhaegar paused for a moment, then said thoughtfully, ��Not yet. We can��t spare any troops from Oldtown, so a raven will be enough to send a message to House Redwyne.��


    Hena let out a ��huh�� and continued to rest her cheek against Rhaegar��s.


    After conquering Dorne, the garrison continued to increase. Aegon, Hena, and Aemond, the three siblings, were the backbone of the border defense. Summerhall was built in the Dornish Marches, and the nobles of The Reach were mobilized. Stonehelm governed the Sea of Dorne and oversaw the Stornds and all of Dorne. The Stepstones blocked the lower half of the Narrow Sea, cutting off the Narrow Sea from the Summer Sea.


    In this way, half of the continent of Westeros was under the remote control of the Iron Throne. The diehard faction in Dorne could not break through the sea route and was waiting to die like a frog in a pot of warm water. In time, the royal family��s influence would rece that of the nobility, and the power of the Iron Throne would continue to grow.


    ...


    Driftmark


    The Sea Snake stood alone in the front courtyard, leaning on a walking stick. His broad back was slightly stooped, and with the dead leaves on the ground beneath his feet, he looked a little forlorn.


    He looked up and out. Three headless bodies hung from the castle tower, gently swaying in the salty sea breeze. He lowered his head and looked down. Two skeletons, still with flesh and blood, were nailed to two gallows.


    The Sea Snake''s eyes wereplex, a mixture of hatred, satisfaction, and a deep sense of worry. Since His Grace ascended the throne, his methods had be increasingly cruel. Especially in recent years, his actions had been directed against the great nobles of the realm. Although it hadn��t been House Vryon''s turn yet, they must remain on guard. This severe punishment might well be a warning to him.


    ��s!�� The Sea Snake sighed deeply, reflecting on to handle the heir situation and growing uncertain of right and wrong. Loyalty to such an inconsiderate ruler had already caused him unease.


    ��What are you thinking?�� Rhaenys asked,ing from behind.


    Without turning his head, the Sea Snake replied with a huff, ��I was thinking about whether it was a good idea to encourage Rhaegar to rece Rhaenyra.��


    Under the new king, the Targaryens were bing more prosperous��more so than during the reign of Viserys I, even more than during the Conqueror��s time, and almost like during the time of the Freehold.


    However, the Targaryens'' prosperity did not help Vryon achieve a ss leap. Despite Lys��s membership in the council and the port taxes of the three Free Cities, Vryon lost a direct dragon rider, and his daughter Laena��s marriage was unhappy.


    He and Rhaenys were aging, and one day they would pass away. By then, House Vryon''s decline would be inevitable.


    Rhaenys, with her arms folded, looked at the few broken corpses and smiled. ��Corlys, at least Rhaegar respects you and hasn��t specifically targeted House Vryon.��


    She understood her husband��s dissatisfaction. The tragic death of his nephew had only strengthened his resolve to protect the family. But first, there was one thing to remember. Murdering a member of the royal family is a capital crime.


    The Sea Snake understood this. And precisely because he understood, he was all the more saddened. The power of the royal familypletely overshadowed House Vryon''s influence.


    ��I only hope that my good nephew will show mercy and not take the lives of those who have served him well,�� he said with a sigh.


    ��Corlys, you are my husband.�� Rhaenys was firm and outspoken. ��No one would dare to harm the Lord of the Tides. Neither Meleys nor I would allow it.��


    ��Rhaenys...�� Upon hearing this, the Sea Snake''s unease waspletely dispelled, and he rarely showed a tender gesture.


    There were two things in his life that he was proud of. The first was the nine voyages that brought House Vryon to unprecedented prosperity. The second was the honor of marrying a virtuous wife.


    Rhaenys sighed, raising her hand to her forehead. ��That''s enough. The Corlys I know is not so childish.��


    ��What''s on your mind?�� the Sea Snake asked, noticing her troubled expression.


    ��Laena wrote back to me. She��s sorry she couldn��te to Rhaena''s defense,�� Rhaenys exined.


    ��That��s only natural. The children are all grown up,�� the Sea Snake nodded in agreement.


    Rhaenys raised her eyebrows and dropped a bombshell, ��White Worm is pregnant, and it��s probably a boy.��


    The Sea Snake''s face suddenly turned pale. White Worm��s pregnancy would have far-reaching consequences. It could mean that Daemon would have to marry more women, shaking Laena''s position. If White Worm gave birth to an heir, would there still be a ce for House Vryon in Tyrosh?


    Moreover, the issue of multiple marriages and inheritance had been a major source of discord in the royal family in recent years.


    The Sea Snake realized the gravity of the situation and said perceptively, ��The eldest Princess in the Vale has never had a surname. I��ve heard that His Grace often can''t sleep at night because of this.��


    ��Are you saying that Rhaegar will also be involved in this matter?�� Rhaenys was quick-witted and understood immediately.


    The Sea Snake nodded slowly. ��No matter what White Worm says, we must first stabilize Laena and not act rashly.��


    Daemon��s permission to marry multiple times had been granted by Viserys. It was difficult not to see that the marriage between Daemon and Laena was not harmonious, and that the royal family might have orchestrated it. Lady Jeyne of the Vale, who married into the royal family, had once been tricked by Rhaenyra. White Worm��s pregnancy would certainly be a second shpoint for dispute.


    It was not only a marital issue between Daemon and Laena, but also a challenge to the rules. With Vntis and ver''s Bay eyeing each other, war was imminent. With his keen political sense and understanding of Rhaegar��s rule since he came to power, the Sea Snake knew Rhaegar would surely use the war to exact his revenge.


    Laena and House Vryon might step into a trap Rhaegar had set for them if they acted without thinking it through. They must first consider the pros and cons, what is important and what is not.


    Rhaenys said solemnly, ��What are you going to do? Tyrosh has a share of Laena, and we can''t just sit back and do nothing.��


    ��No hurry, let me think about it.�� The Sea Snake felt a headacheing on. ��First, send a raven to the Red Keep to win Rhaenyra''s support.��


    Rhaenyra and Laena were close friends, and Rhaenyra was the adoptive mother of Ba, their granddaughter. With her help, Ba could at least fight for her position as heir.


    ��Just sending a letter to the Red Keep?�� Rhaenys thought that was not enough.


    The Sea Snake pondered for a moment. ��There''s also the Celtigars of w Isle, Baratheons of Storm''s End. Daemon wants a son, but he must be born in Laena''s womb. Only then could the next ruler of Tyrosh be of Vryon blood. We need to unite the various families and prepare to pressure Daemon.��


    ��Fine, I''ll write a personal letter to Cassandra.�� Rhaenys agreed immediately, but then thought of House Celtigar and said in a low voice, ��That child Celine...��


    Celine Celtigar, Laenor��s new wife. After Laenor was killed, she did not return to w Isle but stayed alone in High Tide.


    The Sea Snake felt sorry for her. ��Celine is a good girl. Our son owed her a debt,�� he said. ��Ask her if she has any letters she wants to write to her family.��


    Rhaenys sighed, ��I��ll ask, but I don��t think there��s any hope.�� Celine hated her family for forcing her to marry a man with a different sexual orientation. After Laenor''s death, she had almost cut off all contact with House Celtigar.


    ��Take good care of her. It��s a way of making up for what happened to Laenor,�� the Sea Snake said, shaking his head and turning away.


    He was going to Hull to check on the progress of the Sea Snake��s repairs and to visit an old friend. The assassination attempt of Rhaena had given him a different perspective on the issue of session. That young man, Addam, could be promoted.

 Chapter 514: The Roar of Vhagar

    Chapter 514: The Roar of Vhagar


    w Isle


    A small ind nestled in the middle of the Narrow Sea, adjacent to Crackw Point, had been home to House Celtigar for generations. The Celtigars, also of Valyrian descent, had built arge town and harbor on the ind, which buzzed with activity early in the morning.


    In the bustling port, merchant ships passed through from both sides of the Narrow Sea. Meanwhile, on a remote beach, fishermen disembarked from their boats, retrieving fishings set earlier. Women and children, trousers rolled up, bent down to pick up oysters and crabs left behind by the tide.


    Suddenly, a shadow fell over their heads.


    ��Roar...�� A piercing scream rang out, and the fishermen looked up in fear.


    The sky was blue and white with clouds, and a hideous, monstrous, huge mud dragon soared from afar.


    ��A dragon!��


    ��Run...�� The fishermen, who rarely saw dragons, panicked and jumped into the sea. On the beach, the women were terrified and fled, clutching their children.


    ��Roar...�� Sheepstealer lowered its body mockingly, as if to tease, causing the fishermen to cry out in fear.��Stop messing around and hurry up!�� an impatient shout came from the back of the dragon.


    Sheepstealer swung its tail angrily and suddenly elerated.


    ...


    In the center of w Isle, a small mountain range rises prominently, housing the fortress of House Celtigar. The fortress, with its white marble exterior and red rubble, resembles a giant crab lying on its back.


    ��Roar...�� The sun dimmed as the shadow of a dragon covered the sky, enveloping the entire castle in gloom. The guards were rmed, but no matter how strong the forces on the ground were, they could only watch helplessly as the dragon soared above.


    The Sheepstealer flew around the castle twice, circling the mountain range, before slowly descending into the castle courtyard. As the dragonnded with a thud, kicking up a gust of wind mixed with the smell of sheep, the castle gates opened and several figures in splendid attire hurried out.


    Aemond sat firmly on the dragon''s back, looking down at the men with one eye, his posture arrogant. ��Lord Celtigar, it''s been a long time.��


    In the courtyard, the young Clement Celtigar looked displeased, covering his disheveled hair with one hand. Beside him, a bald, silver-haired old man red at Aemond with a gloomy expression. He was Bartimos Celtigar, Clement''s father and the former Lord of Celtigar.


    Aemond noticed Bartimos and tilted his head slightly, ncing at his sleeve. The cuff was empty, with no hand sticking out. Early in the Narrow Sea War, Bartimos defied the ban on the sea and smuggled supplies to Essos. When the matter was exposed, he was imprisoned in King''s Landing for a year. His son, Clement, and daughter, Celine Celtigar, repeatedly pleaded for clemency, reducing the crime of treason to smuggling, and his hands were amputated as punishment.


    Bartimos raised his head, his green eyes hiding a hint of coldness, and said in a lukewarm tone, ��Prince Aemond, I wonder what brings you here with your dragon?��


    Aemond, still arrogant and condescending, did not answer directly. Instead, he patted the dragon''s back, which was pitted with scars.


    ��Roar!�� Sheepstealer understood and roared at the group, spewing a stream of hot, sulfurous air. Bartimos, old and frail, could not withstand such treatment. He covered his ears and groaned in pain. Clement, shocked, went to help his father.


    The snarling soon stopped. Sheepstealer''s eyes narrowed, it snorted heavily, and slowly lowered itself to the ground. Aemond untied the chains and smiled. ��Lord Clement, I heard that young people have more things inmon. Are you not weing me?��


    As he finished speaking, the Sheepstealer shook its tail, as if excited to see some toys. Clement, filled with trepidation, watched the shadow of the dragon loom over him. He dared not say, ''No.''


    ...


    Lys''s Waters


    Under a clear sky, the seay like a hanging mirror. Amon merchant ship drifted with the wind, gradually approaching Lys''s controlled waters.


    Suddenly, a rough horn sounded, echoing across the vast sea. The lookout on the merchant ship raised his heart to his throat and scanned the horizon in a panic. He spotted several warships rapidly approaching from both sides.


    Upon closer inspection, he recognized the sails of the Harpy ship from Meereen. His eyes widened in terror.


    ��Pirates! Helm, full speed ahead!�� he shouted, scrambling down thedder in a frenzy.


    On deck, chaos erupted. There was only one possibility for a ship flying the Harpy g��a ver from ver''s Bay.


    The lookout''s warning came just in time, and the helmsman skillfully steered the ship. Unfortunately, the speed of arge merchant ship could never match that of a small warship.


    As the ve ships closed in, archers on deck prepared to shoot without warning.


    The battle for plunder was about to begin.


    ��Ahhh...��


    ��No, jump into the lifeboat...��


    ��Help, don''t run...��


    The ve ships surrounded the merchant vessel, and arrows soaked in oil flew, quickly defeating the sailors'' defenses. In less than half an hour, the vers would reap a rich harvest.


    ��Roar!��


    Suddenly, a thunderous roar reverberated through the sky. The sailors who had jumped into the sea looked up in panic. A massive figure was reflected in their wide eyes.


    ��Vhagar, Dracarys!��


    A heroic female voice echoed from above,manding in Valyrian.


    ��Roar...�� An old green dragon swooped down, its sagging skin pping, and orange Dragonfire spewed from its maw in billowing ck smoke.


    Boom!


    The Dragonfire struck a ve ship, engulfing it entirely in a single, devastating blow. The deck and masts burst into mes, sending fiery debris raining down. Pirates, armed with crossbows, were thrown into disarray as the shattered mast copsed like a felled tree.


    In the blink of an eye, flesh turned to ash, and iron melted into molten g. The entire ship sank, leaving only thick ck smoke rising into the sky.


    It all happened so quickly that the surrounding ve ships didn''t have time to react.


    Laena, d in red armor, leaned over and shouted, ��Vhagar, do it again.��


    ��Roar...�� Vhagar, responding to the call, twisted its ancient body, pping wings riddled with holes. The old dragon soared into the sky, unleashing another torrent of Dragonfire.


    Boom!


    Another st engulfed a ve ship, and Vhagar''s thick tail smashed the mast, sending it flying. The pirates, who had moments ago been aggressors, now screamed in terror.


    ��No!��


    ��The dragon, the dragon ising!��


    ��Damn it, shoot the arrows...��


    Most pirates lost their will to fight at the sight of the dragon. The pirate leader red at his men, kicking and punching them, shouting orders in a hoarse voice.


    ��Roar...�� Vhagar swooped down again, its massive body casting a shadow over the ship. ck smoke mixed with Dragonfire enveloped the sea. The waves of searing heat rolled in, and the pirate leader''s mind went nk. Thest thing he saw was the enormous dragon wings covering the sky. The membranes were riddled with holes, bearing witness to the old dragon''s many battles.


    Boom!


    There was no time to scream. ck smoke obscured his vision, and the entire ship was consumed by mes.


    Vhagar raised its head and spread its wings, demonstrating that even an aged body could still fight fiercely. These maneuvers, difficult for any dragon, were the result of more than 170 years of umted experience.


    Laena smiled and encouraged, ��Well done, Vhagar!��


    They had been together for many years, from her maiden days to wife and mother. Vhagar had never let her down, always providing a strong sense of security.


    ��Roar...��


    Vhagar growled, like an old grandmother responding to her granddaughter, her cold pupils revealing a hint of pride.


    Without waiting for furthermands, Vhagar dived again and again.


    With each breath of Dragonfire, the ve ships turned into floating candles on the sea.


    When the battle was over, Vhagar shook its head and let out a mighty roar from its thick neck. Then, it turned around and flew back to Lys.


    Laena didn��t need to give any extra orders. She was content to benefit from the old dragon��s experience and instinct. Compared to Vhagar, Daemon was nothing.


    If he truly dared to insult her, she wouldn��t hesitate to respond in kind.


    Laena couldn''t help butugh at the thought.


    If it were that simple, she wouldn��t have sent ravens to Driftmark and King��s Landing.


    Wars are fought not only with dragons, but also with ravens and pens.


    ...


    King''s Landing, Red Keep


    ��Hurry up and pack. The ships at the Mud Gate are waiting.��


    ��Handle them with care, don''t mess up the clothes of the young princes.��


    Elinda moved briskly around the room, folding clothes while directing the flustered maids.


    ��You don''t have to do this yourself, Elinda,�� Rhaenyra said, trying to persuade her from her task.


    Elinda nced up briefly and quickened her pace. ��I��ll fold your things myself. Don��t worry, it won��t take long.��


    Rhaenyra��s eyes were filled with helplessness and warmth. Having a caringdy-in-waiting was almost as valuable as having a good husband.


    Knock, knock!


    The door opened, and Sara entered, holding a baby. ��Your Grace, Baelon and Maekar have arrived.��


    ��Good,�� Rhaenyra said gratefully. ��Thank you for taking care of Visenya.��


    Sara nodded and said calmly, ��It��s my duty.��


    She stepped out of the crowded room, allowing the two princes to make their appearance.


    Baelon greeted his mother and waited at the door with good manners. Maekar slumped his head and crept into the room.


    ��Maekar!��


    Halfway through, Rhaenyra called out, and the little one shivered.


    ��Mother, I know I was wrong.�� Maekar grabbed the hem of his shirt with both hands and quickly apologized in a soft voice.


    Last night''s sessful taming of the dragon had disturbed half the people in King��s Landing, keeping them awake. He knew it was dangerous to tame dragons in secret, and he expected his mother to scold him.


    In fact, when she called him, Rhaenyra was very angry. However, seeing her tearful little son, her heart softened immediately. ��Maekar, do you really know what you did wrong?��


    ��Huh?�� Maekar looked up, seeing his mother wasn��t angry, and said softly, ��Yes, I shouldn��t have tamed the dragon on my own.��


    ��No, there��s nothing wrong with taming dragons,�� Rhaenyra shook her head and lectured. ��The mistake was that you sneaked into the Dragonpit without telling anyone. Not only did you put yourself in danger, but you also dragged Ser Steffon into it.��


    The three young dragons in the Dragonpit were all very ill-tempered. Her youngest son was only three years old, and Maekar didn��t seem to care about his own life. Ser Steffon hade to her roomst night to apologize for the incident.


    Maekar was taken aback and stammered, ��But Father also tamed dragons without permission.��


    He was just following in his father''s footsteps and had seeded as well. His father loved him the most and always held him while telling him stories.


    Rhaenyra sighed and picked up her youngest son. ��Your father is your father. He is not the same as you.��


    Rhaegar had been different from other children since he was a child, but her children were not.


    ��Where is the difference?�� Maekar asked, a question mark on his forehead.


    ��This...�� Rhaenyra hesitated, not wanting to give him a wrong answer. ��He is my brother, and you are my son. I have loved him since he was a child, and I trust him more.��


    Maekar tilted his head and asked innocently, ��When will you start trusting me more?��


    Rhaenyra pretended to think for a moment and smiled lightly. ��When you grow up and can take some of your father''s worries off his shoulders.��


    There were many things that couldn''t be exined fully to a child, so it was better to change the topic. While her son''s behavior had been reckless, he had sessfully tamed a dragon. She needed to encourage and guide him rather than just criticize.


    Maekar thought about it for a long time and said sweetly, ��Okay, when Tyraxes and I grow up, we''ll be even better than Uncle Aemond.��


    ��Why do you always want to use Aemond as a role model?�� Rhaenyra frowned and then put her son down. She turned to Baelon at the door and said, ��Take your brother to the Dragonpit. We''ll leave for Lys in a moment.��


    Noticing Maekar''s hopeful little look, she sighed and added, ��Let him ride the dragon. Tell the Dragonkeeper to secure the saddle and the waist chain.��


    Her friend Laena had sent a letter asking for help, and she couldn''t ignore it. Lys was her own territory, and she had been stationed there for several months every year, so she knew it well. But the journey was long, so it was best to take all three sons and her two foster daughters with her.


    ��Oh, yes!�� Maekar jumped up and down, overjoyed.


    Baelon shrugged and led his brother by the hand. ��Come on, Aemon and the others have already set off.��

 Chapter 515: Fooling Daemon

    Chapter 515: Fooling Daemon


    Tyrosh


    Prince''s Pce, Water Bridge.


    A graceful figure stopped by the bridge, gazing down at the calm surface of the water. The bridge, the first in Tyrosh, spanned the estuary from east to west. The Prince''s Pce, located on the east side of the bridge, was nked by green willows, allpleted during the reign of the new prince.


    Plop!


    The figure threw a small stone, causing ripples to spread across the calm water. Mysaria sighed and ced her pale hand on the Dragonstone fence.


    From afar, her appearance was striking. She wore a long dress with a floral pattern on a blue background, and a thin, snow-white neck wrapped in a silk scarf, covering as much of her pale skin as possible. Because of her skin color, she was called the ��White Worm.�� She stood alone by the bridge,menting the unpredictability of fate.


    Behind her, she heard a familiar sound of footsteps��steady and powerful. Mysaria turned her head slightly and saw Daemon, dressed in ck.


    ��You''re here again. You''re wasting your time as a mistress,�� Daemon said calmly, leaning against the railing of the bridge, observing his mistress''s changing moods.


    Mysaria turned her head away in disgust, her emotions running high. "I want to be left alone. Don''t make things difficult for the others.""Don''t think so badly of me," Daemon leaned forward, his voice carrying a hint of meaning. "Why is that? Why have you suddenly changed so much, as if you were a different person?"


    Mysaria felt a surge of helplessness at his pointless question. "Who leaked the news of my pregnancy?"


    After her first unexpected miscarriage, she had broken up with Daemon. In the years that followed, they maintained a business rtionship. She also had contact with Otto Hightower, ying both sides to her advantage, which allowed her to buy her first house and stone building in the flea bottom.


    When Daemon conquered Tyrosh, he approached her again, asking her to be the Master of Whisperers. The reason she had broken with Daemon in the first ce was that he didn''t have a stable position and was at the mercy of his brother, the king.


    But now, Daemon was the Prince of Tyrosh, and she was naturally willing to join him. Their rtionship was rekindled, and after years of hard work, they confirmed she was pregnant a few months ago. However, she didn''t want the news to get out so quickly.


    Daemon looked away from her questioning gaze and admitted, "I''m the one who leaked the news."


    Mysaria''s careful efforts to keep her pregnancy secret had been for naught. Infuriated, she raised her voice, "Daemon, I''m just your mistress. Have you ever thought about me?!"


    Who was she? A foreign dancer, once a prostitute and an intelligence agent, with a background as lowly as could be. In contrast, Daemon''s original wife was the only daughter of the most powerful lord of Driftmark and a rider of the great dragon Vhagar. In Daemon''s circles, he was the highest-ranking presence. Laena was close friends with the current queen, with the entire House Vryon and its allies behind her. What could Mysaria possiblypete with?


    Daemon was silent for a moment, clearly understanding the weight of her words.


    Mysaria was furious, grinding her teeth. ��Why didn''t you wait until my baby was stable and everything was settled before you spread the news?��


    Once she gave birth to a son, he would immediately be the next heir to Tyrosh. How could Laena and her family tolerate this? She was just amoner, without the protection of a dragon or high status, vulnerable to any assassin.


    ��Unmarried and pregnant, the child would be a bastard,�� Daemon said, leaning his head to the side, resting his elbows on the fence. ��I had to spread the news first, and then I''ll marry you in a dignified manner.��


    For years, he had slept with many women, even dying Tyrosh''s development, earning a bad reputation. Of course, his reputation wasn��t any better in the past��Prince of the City, Rogue Prince, Lord Flea Bottom.


    But that was when he was the second son and couldn��t change his situation. He didn��t care what others thought, enjoying life to the fullest. It was not a different from a kind of self-deception.


    Today, he ruled Tyrosh, one of the nine Free Cities. As the bloodline of Baelon, The Spring Prince, he had established another branch of the Targaryens. In the past, he had no chance, but now he had one. He had to prove to his brother, nephew, and parents, who favored his brother, that he could do better.


    Daemon Targaryen did not make things worse. He only pretended to be a failure, but he was actually more capable of greatness than his brother. For this reason, a qualified sessor was the most important thing in his grand n.


    Seeing Daemon so confident, Mysaria felt a sharp pain in her heart and was unable to speak for a moment. Daemon saw this and said seriously, "You and the child will be safe. I won''t give in."


    "Then you should marry me immediately and give me a title!" Mysaria breathed heavily and used the opportunity to make her request.


    Daemon had already anticipated this and said calmly, ��I''m already nning a wedding, so don''t worry about the status of your name.��


    His brother had given him special privileges before he abdicated. Even his good nephew Rhaegar could not go against it.


    Mysaria was still not satisfied and emphasized, ��I said right away, a ceremony, a wedding room.��


    A formal wedding takes at least a month to organize. She was afraid that there would be moreplications.


    Daemon frowned and said coldly, ��I am a prince, not a poor boy from Flea Bottom. I don��t have to hide when I marry a woman.��


    ��But I''m a prostitute,�� Mysaria shot back angrily, revealing her background. ��Your whims will drag me into danger.��


    She was a third party who had risen to power. If she didn''t act in secret, she would be suffocated in her sleep. The lower one''s social status, the more sensitive one''s sense of danger. Mysaria could feel countless pairs of eyes staring at her. It was Daemon who had exposed her, the White Worm, to the public.


    Daemon, annoyed by the argument, said with great patience, ��Then you should also understand that after marrying me, you are no longer a lowly prostitute.��


    He didn''t care about a woman''s background, but his children could not be humiliated because of it. No matter how lowly a worm is, if it hides under the protection of a dragon, no vulture or hyena will dare to look at it.


    ��Forget it. You and I don''t see eye to eye.�� Mysaria sighed again, truly wanting to leave. When the baby was born safely, she woulde out from the dark.


    Daemon ignored her and leaned against the edge of the bridge, quietly watching the boats of all sizesing and going on both sides. The two of them didn''t speak for a while.


    Mysaria, feeling ufortable, took a deep breath. ��I want to be alone. Do you have anything else to do?��


    Daemon nced at her sideways and said bluntly, ��Waiting for someone.��


    ��Who ising?�� Mysaria''s eyes instantly sharpened, and she became extremely alert.


    Daemon opened his mouth, just about to answer.


    Whoosh!


    A gust of wind with an ash-like smell swept through the sky, blocking his words. Daemon looked up and said lightly, ��They��re here!��


    As soon as he finished speaking,


    Roar!


    A pair of ck dragon wings slowly enveloped the harbor, each p sending a wave of searing heat through his clothes.


    Mysaria''s eyes widened in surprise, and she almost dropped her jaw.


    ��Cannibal,nd!�� A cold voice echoed, like a drop of jade falling on a te.


    The ck dragon circled the sky once, then slowlynded at the end of the gangway. But that wasn��t the end.


    ��Roar����


    A slightly smaller pale blue dragon leisurely flew over, like a blue sky spirit, lowering its body gracefully.


    When the two dragonsnded, Mysaria finally recovered from the shock. She had seen dragons before. She had even had the pleasure of riding with Daemon''s in Caraxes.


    But dragons asrge as the Cannibal and Dreamfyre, she had only seen in the shadows when Laena ran to Tyrosh to question Daemon.


    Mysaria took a deep breath and said with emotion, ��I heard in my early years that Your Grace on the Iron Throne tamed the world''srgest wild dragon when he was young. It is truly worthy of his reputation.��


    In her former life, she was too lowly to have the chance to see it.


    ��Let''s go. I''ll show you around.�� Daemon''s mouth curled up slightly, and he was looking forward to the purpose of his nephew''s visit.


    ...


    A few minutester, Rhaegar and Daemon met at the end of the bridge.


    Rhaegar stood tall, his long silver-gold hair flowing naturally, his purple eyes surveying the scene with an air of calm authority. Daemon, holding the hilt of his sword at his side with one hand, looked up at his nephew with a calm and collected expression.


    Neither spoke at first, and the atmosphere grew so tense that it was hard to breathe.


    Mysaria, wrapped in a silk shawl, stood quietly behind Daemon, watching the two men as they faced each other.


    Noble. Arrogant. Not just noble, but arrogant to the extreme. It was a trait that came from their otherworldly bloodline and unyielding spirit.


    In contrast, Hena stood next to Rhaegar, asionally straightening her pleated skirt or looking down to pick at dirt from under her fingernails. The confrontation between uncle and nephew? She didn''t care and didn''t even seem to notice it.


    Finally, the stalemate was broken.


    Rhaegar''s lips curled up in a smile, remaining silent. Daemon sighed in resignation, and with evident reluctance, knelt down and bowed, saying, ��Your Grace.��


    As he spoke, he raised his head high and looked straight into his nephew''s eyes. This was hisst show of defiance.


    Rhaegar immediately smiled and reached out to help his uncle up. ��Don''t worry about the formalities.��


    ��Heh,�� Daemon snorted, clearly not buying his nephew''s words.


    Rhaegar, suppressing his uncle''s arrogance as usual, went straight to the point: ��I heard you''re getting married.��


    He looked sideways at Mysaria, sizing her up. ��Is this Lady Mysaria?��


    A closer look revealed she was a striking woman. Her hair was tied up at the back of her head, her figure was slender and charming, and her pale skin added to the allure of a delicate beauty.


    Just standing there, without exining her background, she exuded a more noble temperament than the averagedy.


    Feeling the king''s gaze, Mysaria forced herself to remain calm and gave Daemon a secretive nce.


    Rhaegar withdrew his gaze and waved his hand dismissively, ��Don��t be nervous, I have no ill will.��


    He was merely curious about the woman who had captivated his uncle and even driven him to steal a dragon egg. Seeing her today, he couldn��t help but draw a parallel to Lys��s ck Swan. Perhaps both women had risen from humble beginnings to their current status through their own resourcefulness.


    Daemon, with a stern expression, dered possessively, ��She is pregnant with my child. I want to marry her.��


    It was as if he feared his good nephew would disrupt his ns.


    Rhaegar smiled reassuringly. ��It doesn''t matter who you marry. My father made an exception for you, and I have no objection.��


    After all, marrying the White Worm didn''t betray his father''s n of solidifying the royal family''s absolute rule.


    Daemon''s eyes narrowed as he pressed, ��Then what is your purpose ining to Tyrosh?��


    He couldn''t imagine any reason beyond the marriage.


    ��Smoking Sea,�� Rhaegar responded, his tone serious. ��Vntis and ver''s Bay intend to disrupt the order of the Disputed Lands. I n to take this opportunity to send troops and reintegrate Vntis and the Smoking Sea into the territory of ancient Valyria.��


    Vntis and ver''s Bay were not the primary concerns. It was the wild young dragons of the Smoking Sea, the ancestralnds of the Lands of the Long Summer, and the dragon horn that haunted his dreams that mattered.


    Daemon''s vignce began to fade as he processed the new enemy: ��The Tiger Party and Elephant Party in Vntis are allied, and there are remnants of the Triarchy in ver''s Bay.��


    ��You, me, and Hena are enough to end the war,�� Rhaegar said confidently, speaking for Hena as well. ��The Smoking Sea is dangerous. After we take Vntis, you and I will explore it together.��


    ��How will the spoils be divided?�� Daemon asked directly, not hesitating to seek his share of the benefits.


    Rhaegar was prepared. ��House Vryon''s fleet will apany us. The royal family will get 50% of the harvest, and I will im all the special items.��


    ��That��s too much,�� Daemon objected, frowning at the mention of special items.


    Rhaegar��s expression remained unchanged as he raised a finger. ��If we capture a young dragon, you will have priority in taming it for your descendants.��


    Taming a young dragon was always easier than hatching an egg.


    Daemon considered this and then added his condition, ��I want you to suppress Rhaenyra and not interfere with my ns.��


    ��I��ll do my best,�� Rhaegar replied smoothly, knowing full well the implications. Suppressing Rhaenyra was out of the question; he had nned to be the one pulling the strings from the start.


    Dear Uncle, you are the pioneer of this power struggle, he thought, a faint smile ying on his lips.

 Chapter 516: Wandering Seasmoke

    Chapter 516: Wandering Seasmoke


    Time flies. Half a monthter.


    Lys, outer sea area.


    Small inds surround it, with palm trees and other tropical vegetation growing vigorously. The rippling ocean is teeming with jumping fish.


    On the shippingnes, merchant ships drift back and forth, like pieces on a blue chessboard.


    ��Roar!��


    A pitch-ck dragon glides down, its thick tail sending a gust of wind that makes the sails of the ships billow.


    Before the sailors could even shout in rm, the pair of wings that covered the sky shed past.


    Peering out.


    Lys is getting closer and closer to the ck dragon....


    Rhaegar looked down and saw the bustling activity of the Free Cities, with their gray stone buildings alive with motion.


    ��Hey, partner, stop ying around,�� he called out.


    The dragon circled above the city, causing amotion among the local residents. Rhaegar urged the dragon beneath him to put away its yful attitude.


    Cannibal slowed down and flew deliberately towards the tallest ck stone building in the Free Cities. This t-topped tower, a relic of ancient Valyrian and Dragonlord lore, symbolized the sky and dragons.


    The tower was colossal, rising eight hundred feet into the air.


    Boom!


    The dragon folded its wings andnded on the t top of the building, as if it were anding pad.


    Rhaegar rolled off the dragon''s back andughed. ��Wait for me at the Dragonpit. I''ll see you soon.��


    ��Roar...��


    Cannibal raised its head proudly, its dragon''s snout curling up to its rider. With a p of its wings, he soared into the sky, heading towards a domed building.


    Rhaegar stepped onto the Dragonstone floor and walked into the elevator with ease.


    The t-topped tower, thanks to the design ns of the red priest Varis, involved blood magic. The tower was strong enough to withstand the weight of a dragon.


    ...


    Dragonpit Without a Roof


    The wide open space on the ground wasparable to a quaint pce. The Bronze Gate blocked the front passage, and the open ceiling bordered the blue sky and white clouds.


    ��Roar...�� Several young dragons were ying in the Dragonpit with their respective masters. Under the supervision of the Dragonkeepers, Aemon and Ba yed together,paring their young dragons.


    Morning was weak and fragile, curled up in her master''s arms. Trickster and Moondancer stayed far apart, as if they were two green leaves that could be rolled up into a ball at any time.


    ��Enter the Dragonpit, Cannibal!�� Baelon stood at the edge of a brazier and could hear the Dragonkeeper''s shouts clearly. ��Father ising!�� Baelon smiled happily and called out, ��Maekar, look at the big guy in the sky.��


    He looked up and was able to catch a glimpse. ��Roar~�� A low, soft growl came from the dragon, full of a sense of leisurelyziness.


    Maekar crouched in the corner, with a half-asleep, half-awake silver-ck young dragon in front of him. A quick look around the Dragonpit revealed something strange. Aemon and Ba were in the best position, ying happily, while Maekar was alone at the edge, keeping the sleepy young dragonpany.


    As the eldest brother, Baelon took the initiative to talk to Maekar, who was somewhat isted. The reason was unknown; perhaps Maekar was a loner or maybe he was too young.


    When he heard his brother''s call, Maekar stopped finger-painting and muttered, ��Baelon, you love adult dragons too much.��


    ��Roar!�� Tyraxes roared in agreement. What''s wrong with a baby dragon? They''re cute even when they''re small.


    Baelon was furious and lectured him, ��Don''t be ungrateful.�� He spoke in a sarcastic tone, like a little lord.


    Besides, what''s wrong with his love for adult dragons? When he was a child, he fell in love with Cannibal at first sight.


    Maekar tilted his head and rolled his eyes. ��Are you sure your egg won''t hatch?��


    Baelon took a step back and asked tentatively, ��What do you mean, little brother?��


    Maekar''s eyebrows arched in a figure of eight, piercing his best friend''s heart: ��Where are your dragon egg? Can I see it?��


    Baelon''s mouth twitched slightly, and he said in disbelief, ��You, you...�� How does he know everything? No wonder Aemond doesn''t like ying with him.


    Maekar gave a mischievous smile and asked in a low voice, ��Tell me! Where did you put your dragon egg?�� The little smug expression on his face was like a celebration of his easy victory over his older brother.


    ��Shh!��


    Baelon stepped forward and quickly covered Maekar''s mouth.


    ��Mmm-mmm!��


    Maekar fell to the ground, his eyes betraying a hint of grievance. Seeing his master being restrained, Tyraxes'' spirit lifted, and the young dragon stared at Baelon with a proud and dignified look.


    "Silence, Tyraxes!" Baelon red at the dragon and uttered an enchantingmand.


    ��Huh?�� Tyraxes, confused by the shout, looked around in bewilderment before slowly crawling back to its original position.


    Baelon snorted, grabbed Maekar by the ear, and whispered urgently, ��Brother, you should understand my predicament.��


    ��Mmm-hmm!�� Seeing that Tyraxes had given up on the rescue, Maekar''s eyes widened, and he nodded vigorously.


    ��Good.�� Baelon let go of his ear and said sternly, ��Don''t ask, don''t mention it.��


    Maekar whined, ��I was going to say that if have no dragon egg, there��s a adult Silverwing in Dragonmont.��


    Baelon��s binding spell was superior, and he was bullying him because he was younger.


    "That''s better." Baelon crossed his arms and looked at him with the protective gaze of an older brother. "Unless the dragon egg is lost, you will be a bit mute from now on."


    He was joking. If he wasn''t strong, how could he be the oldest brother? That bastard Aemon was the first to rebel against him. His father had given him special training!


    Maekar, who had obviously never been treated this way, dragged Tyraxes by the tail and moved to a different spot angrily. As he passed by Aemon and Ba, he aroused the suspicions of Trickster and Moondancer. They all shouted simultaneously at the dragon and the boy.


    "Roar!" Tyraxes instantly became enraged, and its serrated dragon mouth opened wide as it roared fiercely and viciously.


    The Trickster and Moondancer immediately quieted down, spreading their wings to create distance between them. In terms of size, the two young dragons were only half the size of Tyraxes. It was clear who was stronger.


    ��Hmph!�� Maekar shook his head and continued to tug at the dragon��s tail to change position. Tyraxes calmed down and obediently cooperated with its young master.


    From afar, Baelon watched the scene, and a sh of envy crossed his eyes. All his peers had dragons, and he was the only one without one. Although, he would much rather have an adult dragon.


    ��Baelon, what are you looking at?�� Suddenly, a familiar warm voice came from behind.


    Baelon turned around in surprise and eximed, ��Father!�� Rhaegar opened his arms and smiled. It was as if he were saying, ��Have you missed your father?��


    ��Father, I missed you so much!�� Baelon smiled broadly and threw himself into his father''s arms. Rhaegar had been drifting at sea for more than half a month. It wasn''t until yesterday evening that he finally arrived in the port of Lys. Unfortunately, King''s Landing is too far from Lys to cross the Narrow Sea in a short time. Except for his mother dragon, Syrax, the other children couldn''t fly for long.


    Rhaegar picked up his eldest son and held him close, their foreheads touching. He asked softly, ��Do you want a dragon?��


    As they entered the Dragonpit, he saw Baelon watching his two younger brothers interact with the dragons. As the father, he had to show some support.


    Baelon��s eyes flickered at the question, and he hesitated. ��I haven''t chosen a suitable dragon yet.��


    ��Oh, is that so?�� Rhaegar looked surprised, sensing his eldest son''s little thoughts.


    By then, the other children hade running over. Rhaegar put down Baelon, greeted everyone, and then looked at Maekar, who was watching him with eager anticipation.


    The little one had a round face and a small, pouting bottom, like a pug wanting its master''s praise. Rhaegar found this amusing and decided to tease his youngest son. ��Maekar, I hear you tamed a dragon?��


    ��Yes, it''s Tyraxes.�� Maekar''s excitement was palpable as he asked, ��Did Mother tell you that?�� He looked up at his father, his big, watery eyes shining with stars.


    ��Rhaenyra wrote to tell me.�� Rhaegar bent down, grabbed his son''s face, and pretended to threaten him. ��But she also told me to give you a good beating.��


    ��Huh?�� Maekar was taken aback and pointed at himself. ��Beat me up?��


    His mother had already praised him for his achievements, so he was confused.


    ��Yes, you.�� Rhaegar''s face was stern, and he was about to stretch out his hand.


    ��No!�� Maekar threw a tantrum and ran away.


    ��Hee hee, you''re blushing.�� Aemonughed and teased him.


    Rhaegar looked at his second son and said, ��You want to get beaten up too?��


    Of the three sons, Aemon got the most beatings.


    Aemon:...


    ��No, thank you,�� he muttered, turning around and retreating.


    Ba and Rhaena bowed and withdrew gracefully.


    Soon, only Rhaegar and Baelon were left.


    Rhaegar continued the conversation, suggesting, ��If you want to tame a dragon, I can take you with me when I visit Storm''s Endter.��


    Baelon frowned and thought for a moment. ��Seasmoke?��


    ��That''s it.�� Rhaegar admired his eldest son''s intelligence and said, ��Seasmoke is great. You can outride your peers on it.��


    After Laenor was killed, Seasmoke had been wandering around the Sea of Dorne for years, wild and untamed. A dragon in the wild is not something that can be taken lightly. But Seasmoke was a good choice.


    As the dragon with the most battlefield experience among the four generations, its actualbat power even exceeded that of Syrax and Sunfyre. He was proud and brave, and most importantly, loyal. Additionally, Seasmoke''s appearance was also remarkable.


    Soon after breaking out of its shell, it was discovered by fishermen who called it ��the smoke of the sea,�� charming and dangerous. Its potential was very high!


    Baelon heard this and lowered his head in thought. ��Father, can I think about it some more?��


    Rhaegar did not press him but looked at him curiously. ��Do you really want an adult dragon?��


    Baelon continued to lower his head and remained silent.


    Rhaegar was surprised, staring at his eldest son. Could it be that he has his eye on Vermithor or the Cannibal? My father is weak, but he doesn��t seem like he will die soon. If not Vermithor, then only...


    Rhaegar��s eyes shed with amusement as he remembered a moment when Aemon was three years old. He had excitedly imed he wanted the Cannibal, asking, ��Father, when will you die so that I can inherit your dragon?�� That night, the Red Keep echoed with the cries of the inquisitive child. If not for his grandfather Viserys, Baelon might have been an only child.


    Rhaegar thought for a moment and then said, ��Well, since you want an adult dragon, you��ll have to be patient.��


    Baelon looked up in surprise, not expecting his father��s response.


    Rhaegar��s eyes were warm as he said, ��Remember, you are my eldest son, the future heir to the Iron Throne, not the cruel Maegor.��


    Maegor I was a proud and arrogant king. He despised the dragon eggs and young dragons on Dragonstone and was often criticized by his sister-inw and advisers.


    After Aegon the Conqueror died, Maegor tamed the world��s most powerful dragon, Balerion the ck Dread, in one fell swoop. Though inspiring, many years of patience drained a lot of his mind. Once he usurped the throne, hemitted many acts that angered the gods and people.


    He didn��t want his eldest son to follow in Maegor��s footsteps, waiting for him or his father Viserys to die to inherit their dragons. Rhaegar feared he might lose control and beat him to death with his own hands.


    Baelon, scratching his head and smiling, said, ��I won��t, Father.��


    He didn��t reject Silverwing or Seasmoke. He just had a feeling that he should wait.


    ��I��m d you understand,�� Rhaegar said, rubbing his head. ��I��m going to see your mother.��


    Baelon nodded and stayed where he was, watching his father leave the Dragonpit. After a long time, Rhaegar��s figure disappearedpletely. Baelon bit his lower lip, hesitating over something. He looked around at Aemon and Maekar, who were ying.


    Baelon slipped into a giant dragon pit, using the excuse of relieving himself to avoid the Dragonkeepers�� gaze. It was dark at the bottom of the pit, and it was hard to see anything.


    ��Rrrr... rrrr...��


    Baelon groped his way along the wall, faintly hearing a dull grunting sounding from deep within the dragon pit. Gradually, the outline of a huge dragon came into view. Vhagar��s eyes were tightly shut, and its ck jaw rested on the uneven ground, like a decrepit old woman asleep on its bed.


    Baelon gasped at the sight of the ancient beast, his blood rushing to his head. Three secondster, he spun around and ran away as fast as he could. This is the dragon he had in mind!

 Chapter 517: Black Swan and White Worm

    Chapter 517: ck Swan and White Worm


    Rhaegar left the Dragonpit, and a long-awaited reunion was taking ce in the tower.


    ...


    The curved conference room was simply decorated. Rhaenyra, wearing a long ck dress with a gold dragon pendant on her chest, stood with her hands ced in front of her belly. Her noble bearing exuded a queenly demeanor.


    Crack!


    The door opened, and two Kingsguard stood guard.


    ��Rhaenyra, it''s been a long time!�� Laena eximed, visibly excited, as she walked in with open arms.


    Rhaenyra pursed her lips and embraced her friend tightly. Upon closer inspection, Laena was covered in dust and wore red leather armor, indicating she had just returned from outside.


    Laena pressed her cheek against her friend''s and apologized, ��Sorry, the ve ships in ver''s Bay have been getting more and more brazentely, so I couldn''t wee you homest night.��


    Lys implemented a council system, a semi-monarchical and semi-parliamentary body where the queen and three councilors made decisions.This system shared the queen''s power with council members, potentially leading to a power vacuum, but it was advantageous for Rhaenyra, whocked systematic training in ruling a country and had lived in King''s Landing for many years. Rhaegar handled major decisions, while councilors dealt with minor issues.


    As one of the House Vryon''s appointed councilors, Laena''s job was to maintain the shippingnes. Rhaenyra understood and smiled, ��It''s fine. I''ve prepared a wee banquet for you.��


    She instructed the Kingsguard outside to inform the others, and then the two women sat down next to each other at the conference table. Laena, still in a daze from the dragon battle, had a delicate oliveplexion flushed with excitement.


    Rhaenyra took her friend''s hand, her expression serious. ��What are you going to do, Laena?��


    Laena was stunned for a moment, and her expression gradually fell. Rhaenyra remained quiet, waiting patiently for her friend to think it over. She felt for Laena''s misfortune, but that didn''t mean she had lost her mind. This was a private matter between Daemon and Laena, and the two could discuss it whenever they wanted. If Laena didn''t provide an answer, there was nothing Rhaenyra could do to help.


    Laena understood this, too.


    After a while, Rhaenyra poured two cups of sake. Laena finally spoke up, "I don''t know what to do about the unborn child, but Lady Mysaria must pay the price.��


    As she said this, it was as if a huge stone had fallen from her heart. The exhaustion from the past few days of patrols was swept away.


    Rhaenyra let go of her friend''s hand and whispered, ��Are you nning to kill the mother and keep the child?��


    Laena nodded firmly. ��The fault lies with Daemon and Lady Mysaria. I don''t want to hurt an unborn child.��


    She was also a mother who had almost died in childbirth. She had an inexplicable sense ofpassion for the unborn child.


    ��Laena, you''ve really given me a problem,�� Rhaenyra pondered. ��Have you thought about who will inherit if the child is a boy, and how?��


    A bastard born of a prostitute inheriting Tyrosh, which Daemon and Laena had built together? Even if Laena agreed, the Sea Snake would not.


    Laena was silent, not knowing how to respond. She knew the consequences of a boy born of White Worm and had been hesitant for half a month.


    Seeing this, Rhaenyra did not press further and promised, ��If this is all you want, I can promise that I will share the burden with you when you need it.��


    She could not and did not want to speak for Rhaegar, but she could offer help in her own capacity. If Laena had a request, Lys would mobilize all of its resources.


    ��Thank you, Rhaenyra.�� Laena was moved to her core and said with a determined look, ��I will talk to Daemon about the inheritance. If it doesn''t work out, I can always decideter.��


    Having been raised by the elite of House Vryon, she was not one to hesitate. When it came to rooting out weeds, she would not be soft.


    As soon as she finished speaking, the voice of the Kingsguard rang out: "Wee, Rhaegar the First of House Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm!��


    With a thump, a figure appeared at the door.


    Rhaenyra and Laena rose in unison.


    Rhaegar entered the council chamber and looked at the two women in surprise. ��Am I interrupting?��


    ��Hmph!�� Rhaenyra snorted, her lips curling. The two siblings had agreed to meet in Lys beforehand.


    Laena, feeling she was an outsider right now, bowed respectfully. ��Your Grace.��


    Rhaegar waved his hand with a smile. There was no need for such formalities between acquaintances.


    Except, of course, for his good uncle.


    After taking their seats, Rhaegar said, ��I''ve seen Baelon and the others. Maekar has tamed Tyraxes. It''s a very promising dragon.��


    Rhaenyra, with a hint of pride, responded, ��Of course, it''s no surprise when you look at who his father is.��


    Rhaegar found this amusing and tried hard to hold back hisughter.


    Rhaenyra casually mentioned, ��On the way to Lys, several children rode dragons, but only Baelon...��


    She stopped mid-sentence, worried about her eldest son''s potential feelings of inadequacy.


    Rhaegar smiled reassuringly. ��We''ve talked about it. It''ll be fine.��


    Baelon had inherited his father''s perseverance and had his own ideas.


    Rhaenyra nodded gently, acknowledging Rhaegar''s greater capability in handling such matters.


    Laena, feeling like she was sitting on pins and needles, found an opportunity to interrupt: ��Your Grace, the Tiger Party members of Vntis stationed in Lys have secretly left. It seems that Vntis and ver''s Bay have concluded an alliance.��


    Rhaegar asked seriously, ��What''s the situation?��


    Laena replied truthfully, ��ver''s Bay''s ships have blocked the Smoking Sea, forming a line of defense with Vntis that cuts off the Disputed Lands and The Summer Sea.��


    Blocking the shippingnes and cutting off trade has always been a key part of naval warfare.


    Rhaegar had a general understanding of the situation and said with great momentum, ��Troops from all over the world are being mobilized, and the Kingdom will find an opportunity to fight them.��


    ��I''ll leave you to it.�� Laena let out a sigh of relief and turned to leave.


    The meeting room suddenly felt empty with only two people instead of three.


    Rhaegar rested his hands on his chin, enjoying the sight of Rhaenyra''s beauty. He wanted to see what his dear sister had to say to him.


    Rhaenyra took a sip of wine and coughed lightly. ��Did you encounter any danger when you were causing trouble in Braavos?��


    If there had been danger, he wouldn''t be sitting in the hall. It was just idle chatter.


    Rhaegar smiled. ��The Sealord is generous. He lent me arge amount of gold dragons.��


    At this point, Hena was checking the ounts in Myr. There was too much money to be collected at once, and half of it was secured by goods.


    Rhaenyra nodded absently, clearly not interested in the details of the loan.


    Rhaenyra lifted her eyelids and bit her lower lip, whispering, ��Laena asked me for help, and the bottom line is Ba''s inheritance.��


    ��So?�� Rhaegar asked knowingly.


    Rhaenyra couldn''t stand it anymore, rolled her eyes, and said frankly, ��Daemon is an asshole, but Ba and Rhaena are my foster daughters. At the very least, I have to guarantee that their rights will not be shaken.��


    ��Uh...�� Rhaegar was speechless for a moment. ��The two sisters are in different situations. Daemon has the right to have another male heir.��


    Rhaena was adopted into House Vryon and was officially the daughter of Laenor. The Sea Snake line had no male heirs, so it was legitimate for them to inherit Driftmark.


    Daemon can still have children, and the heir can change at any time.


    ��Rhaegar!�� Rhaenyra gritted her teeth, her voice tinged with resentment. "Ba and Rhaena are my and your foster daughters. We must protect her."


    When Rhaegar heard the word "daughter," his eyes sharpened. In a neutral tone, he replied, ��I do have daughters, three of them.��


    Rhaenyra was suddenly speechless, her expression shifting between guilt and frustration. She realized that Rhaegar was expressing his dissatisfaction, still upset about her revenge on Jeyne.


    The atmosphere grew tense and awkward. Rhaegar, having ridden the dragon all the way, was already impatient. ��I''ll go wash up first,�� he said.


    It wasn''t that he couldn''t say anything more; it was that they had different perspectives. He intended to use the White Worm''s pregnancy to stir up conflict between Daemon and the Sea Snake, thereby weakening their influence and ultimately strengthening the Iron Throne''s central power. Once the war against Vntis was over, he nned to strike a blow against the opposition in the Vale. His logic was clear, his goal obvious. Helping Laena and Ba fight for their interests would be a thankless task, only causing trouble. If things went wrong, Daemon and the Sea Snake would make a big fuss, leaving Rhaegar, as a participant, in an awkward position.


    Rhaenyra nodded silently, understanding that Rhaegar was right. The best option was to stay out of the storm. She just wanted to protect Laena and Ba and couldn''t stand the idea of White Worm as a third party.


    ��See youter,�� Rhaegar said.


    ��Okay!�� Rhaenyra forced a smile.


    As Rhaegar walked to the door, his tall, slender back suddenly stopped. He thought for a moment, not wanting to hurt Rhaenyra''s feelings. It was hard to broach the subject, but he needed to say something.


    ��I can''t do anything about Ba''s inheritance, but I can guarantee that Laena won''t be treated unfairly.�� He recalled the battle of Tyrosh, where Laena, heavily pregnant, rode Vhagar into battle and gave birth to a stillborn child.


    Rhaegar had a n, but he didn''t want to hurt this good woman who was gentle on the outside but strong on the inside. If necessary, he could kill Mysaria, the White Worm, and give the child to Laena to raise. All Daemon needed was a son.


    Rhaenyra was surprised to hear this. But when she thought about Laena''s original idea, she realized it aligned with Rhaegar''s n.


    Rhaenyra smiled and whispered, ��Let''s do it.��


    ...


    Rhaegar left to wash up in the room he shared with his sister.


    Rhaenyra sat in a chair, absentmindedly ying with a goblet.


    Soon, two figures, one young and one adult, emerged from the secret door of the meeting hall.


    ��Rhaenyra!��


    Ba, full of grievances, called out to her foster mother and rushed over, burying her head in Rhaenyra''sp.


    Rhaenyra looked up at the other person, her expression darkening. ��Who told you to bring Ba here!?��


    ��Sorry, I took matters into my own hands,�� Johanna replied, crossing her arms and maintaining an elegant demeanor.


    Rhaenyra''s tone was sharp. ��You are a Grand Master of Lys. Don''t you have other responsibilities?��


    ��It��s about Lady Laena,�� Johanna said gently, a look of sadness in her eyes. ��White Worm is a worthy opponent, but even the most cautious worm can��t stay hidden forever.��


    She implied she had a way to deal with the situation.


    Rhaenyra''s face hardened. She covered Ba''s ears and said sternly, ��Get out! Leave immediately!��


    The woman in front of her was too clever, alwaysing up with tempting ideas.


    Johanna, realizing her power was useless here, silently returned through the secret door. Since thest incident in the Vale, the trust between them had been broken beyond repair.

 Chapter 518: The New Dragonlord of Slaver’s Bay?

    Chapter 518: The New Dragonlord of ver��s Bay?


    Three dayster, the Dragonpit was in chaos.


    ��Roar!��


    Tyraxes rampaged, the chains around its neck nging loudly.


    Several Dragonkeepers, holding bamboo staves, shouted in tense voices, ��Stop! Tyraxes!��


    Boom!


    Tyraxes'' anger red, and it opened its mouth wide, unleashing a st of gray Dragonfire that resembled smoke or mist. The attack was aimed at the Trickster, who was flying in the air.


    ��Roar...��


    The Trickster let out a shrill cry, pping its wings to evade the attack before retaliating with its own Dragonfire. Its tail, resembling a scorpion''s, straightened and quivered gently, as if sensing the impending danger.


    Trickster dodged left and right, narrowly avoiding Tyraxes'' relentless onught. Tyraxes steadily advanced, the gray Dragonfire spreading and continuously reducing the Trickster''s range of evasion.For a time, the two young dragons were locked in a fierce struggle, each maneuvering with precision and intensity.


    ...


    ��Fly, Tyraxes!�� Maekar called out, his hand on his hip and the other cupped around his mouth like a trumpet.


    Bang!


    Rhaegar gave him a firm kick on the rump, saying sternly, ��Don''t interrupt. Let the dragons fight it out.��


    Maekar''s little face fell, and he twisted and turned, backing away dejectedly.


    Rhaenyra stood next to him, along with his brothers and sisters, including Ba. The family stood on the edge of the Dragonpit, watching the fierce battle between the young dragons.


    ��Roar!��


    Tyraxes roared and lunged at the Trickster mid-air, revealing a mouthful of thick fangs. The gray Dragonfire spread over ten meters, forming a misty fog.


    The Trickster barely escaped the Dragonfire, screaming in pain. It dove, trying to escape the encircling mist.


    Plop!


    Tyraxes arrived in a sh, knocking the Trickster out of the air and pinning it to the floor.


    ��Stop!��


    Suddenly, the binding spell appeared just in time.


    Rhaegar had approached unnoticed, drawing out the dragon whip and wrapping it around Tyraxes'' neck.


    ��Roar!��


    Tyraxes was about to attack but was forced to interrupt, growling in anger.


    Rhaegar ignored him and signaled to the Dragonkeepers, ��Drag him back to the dragon pit!��


    ��Yes, Your Grace!��


    The Dragonkeepers, not daring to neglect their task, pulled on the chains around Tyraxes'' neck. The bamboo sticks they used to calm him made a rhythmic sound as they hit the floor.


    After a long struggle, Tyraxes calmed down and left unwillingly.


    ��Roar?��


    Trickster, lying on the ground pretending to be dead, opened its eyes. After confirming that Tyraxes was gone, it flew away.


    Rhaegar smiled faintly andmented, ��It��s a peculiar dragon.��


    Dragons have all sorts of personalities. A young dragon being timid and trouble-prone is not unusual. It��s fortunate that it hatched in a cradle, or it might have been eaten by Cannibal on Dragonstone.


    Looking back, Rhaegar saw his two sons arguing.


    Maekar looked up at them, nostrils red. ��Tyraxes won!��


    Aemon, looking unhappy, retorted, ��Trickster can''t fly high in the Dragonpit. Try it in the wild.��


    The root of the dragon fighty in the fact that the two young dragons were roaming freely. Trickster had insisted on biting Tyraxes'' tail, provoking Tyraxes to chase after him despite the Dragonkeepers�� attempts to stop him.


    Rhaegar picked up his younger son, Maekar, and said with a smile, ��Stop arguing. I��m the best one here.��


    ��Shame on you,�� Aemon grumbled, slumping his shoulders and kicking away a pebble at his feet.


    In contrast, Maekar, who was grinning mischievously, hugged Rhaegar��s neck and said, ��Father, take me out to y with the dragon.��


    The two brothers had very different personalities. Maybe Maekar had won!


    Rhaegar, feeling the warmth of his youngest son, said, ��Okay, but at a different time.��


    ��Pinky swear,�� Maekar insisted, sticking out his little white finger.


    ��No problem.��


    Rhaegar didn��t think it was childish and treated it as a game to entertain his child.


    He looked down and froze.


    Baelon and Aemon:...


    The brothers pouted, feeling a sense of betrayal as they watched their father and younger brother with envy.


    This was not the way their father treated them.


    ��Hmmm...�� Rhaegar felt a bit embarrassed and held his younger son away from him.


    Each son is taught differently ording to their own abilities.


    Baelon is the eldest son, so he is more strictly disciplined.


    Aemon is a troublemaker who gets a big beating every seven days and a small beating every three days.


    Maekar is very well-behaved.


    He can sit in the corner and watch ants crawl for a whole day without crying or making a fuss.


    It seems he has inherited some of Hena��s gift for precognition, making him a bit of an entric child, just like Hena was when she was little.


    Rhaegar can��t help but favor him a little.


    ��Father, put me down.��


    Maekar twisted his waist and broke free from his embrace like a wiggly worm.


    Rhaegar patted his head and then poured another bowl of water to wash the heads of his first and second sons.


    The brothers had the same face, and it was quite fulfilling to touch it.


    Rhaenyra��s eyes filled with tenderness as she basked in the warmth of the family moment.


    Beautiful things are always short-lived.


    Johanna arrived in a hurry, clutching a piece of paper.


    ��What��s wrong?��


    Rhaenyra hurried to meet Johanna, sensing something significant had urred.


    Johanna nced at Rhaegar and urgently ryed the news. ��Urgent message from ver''s Bay. The remnants of the Triarchy have allied with the Good Masters, blockaded the Smoking Sea, and announced that there are dragons within it.��


    Rhaegar listened quietly, not appearing anxious. The presence of dragons in the Smoking Sea was a widely epted theory since Morghul''s appearance. Fishermen had reported sightings of young dragons there, spreading the rumor further.


    Rhaenyra shared a simr thought and asked Johanna for more details.


    Johanna handed over a piece of paper, her expression solemn. ��ording to whispers from some small ve owners, many ves with Valyrian blood have volunteered to join an expedition into the Smoking Sea to find dragons.��


    Concerned that the news might not be taken seriously, she added, ��There are even ims that some are descendants of certain Dragonlord families.��


    ��They want to tame dragons?�� Rhaegar snorted in derision. ��ver''s Bay is courting disaster, reminiscent of the Three Whores.��


    But who could resist the allure of bing a dragon rider?


    Rhaenyra''s eyebrows rose, and she asked, ��Is it true that there are descendants of the Dragonlords?��


    ��It''s hard to discern truth from fiction,�� Johanna admitted. ��The Doom was over 200 years ago, enough time for six or seven generations to pass. Even if there are descendants, the bloodline would be significantly diluted by now. Besides, anyone with Valyrian features and ast name from a Dragonlord family could im such heritage.��


    ��A bunch of impostors!�� Rhaegar dered, turning to walk into the dragon pit where the Cannibal slept. Whether the ims were true or not, anyone daring to use the Dragonlord family��s name would not be forgiven. ver''s Bay dared to provoke them; they would face blood and fire.


    As he left, the others stood in stunned silence.


    Johanna sighed, reporting, ��The Lys merchant ship sent to trade with ver''s Bay was seized, and the goods taken were quite valuable.��


    Rhaenyra felt a headacheing on. ��First, suspend all maritime trade with the east and gather as much food and fodder as possible.��


    ��Yes, Your Grace.�� Johanna left as swiftly as she had arrived.


    Rhaenyra was deep in thought. The family dispute between Daemon and Laena paled inparison to the looming war.


    ��Mother.��


    Maekar''s soft voice shook Rhaenyra from her reverie. He took her hand and shook it gently.


    Rhaenyra looked down at her children. Baelon and the others were gazing at her, their eyes bright with anticipation.


    ��Roar����


    A deep rumble came from the dragon pit behind her. Syrax raised its head, topaz-colored wings supporting its body as it slowly crawled out. The dragon��s pupils were filled with restlessness, mirroring the rider��s distraction.


    Rhaenyra pursed her lips and gently touched Syrax��s chin.


    ...


    A momentter, a pitch-ck dragon burst out of the Dragonpit, its powerful wings propelling it swiftly towards Tyrosh.


    ��Roar!��


    The dragon��s mighty roar echoed through the sky, signaling the impending storm. Soon after, a dark flock of ravens took flight from the tower, their cawing loud and chaotic as they dispersed across the Narrow Sea.


    The horn of war had sounded.


    Half of Westeros''s nobles were destined for a sleepless night as the fragile peace of recent years was shattered by this ominous wave.


    All the Lords who received the summons immediately began preparations, rallying their troops and readying their defenses.


    By the king''smand!


    ...


    Two days passed in the blink of an eye.


    The Summer Sea.


    In the vast waters between Vntis and the Smoking Sea, the hot sun hung high in the sky, and the blue sea shimmered under its intense heat. The tropical climate was scorching, with a dry sea breeze blowing like waves of heat against the shoreline. Fish swam in the depths, asionally breaking the surface to breathe.


    The steady beat of drums echoed across the sea.


    Ten warships, equipped with scorpion crossbows and flying the fierce tiger g, sailed forward, carrying 1,500 elite mercenaries hired at a high price. Their destination was the Smoking Sea, where they would join the blockade fleet from ver''s Bay. If the opportunity arose, they would intercept the small patrol ships of House Vryon.


    On the deck, the mercenaries watched as the drums beat steadily.


    A young, rough-skinned mercenary approached the captain and muttered, ��Captain, is there really a dragon in the Smoking Sea?��


    ��I don''t know,�� the captain replied curtly.


    The young mercenary persisted, ��Is the dragon in ver''s Bay real?��


    ��Don''t ask me,�� the captain snapped.


    The young mercenary scratched his head, looking uncertain. ��Captain, when we go to the Smoking Sea, will we meet a dragon? The brothers are not sure what to do. Please give us a clear answer. How should we fight?��


    Being a mercenary was about making money, not risking one''s life for gold.


    ��No...��


    The mercenary captain began to dismiss the question, but his words suddenly caught in his throat. His eyes widened, pupils dting as he stared into the distance.


    The next second, he shouted, ��Dragon! There''s a dragon! Find cover!��


    Panic erupted as the mercenaries, gripped by fear, quickly and fiercelyy down on the deck.


    However, it was toote.


    "Dreamfyre, Dracarys!"


    A pale blue dragon descended from the sky, releasing Dragonfire like a torrent pouring into the sea.


    Boom!


    The Dragonfire struck the ship, engulfing the mercenaries on deck in an instant, their wails echoing as they burned.


    ��Counterattack! Scorpion crossbow ready!�� someone shouted, turning the winch of the scorpion crossbow.


    In the sky, four dragon shadows shed.


    Rhaegar, dressed in ck with a frosty expression,manded, ��Leave no one alive!��


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal swooped down, its massive wings enveloping half of the warship. Dark green Dragonfire filled the entire area.


    The mercenaries caught in the Dragonfire didn''t even have time to scream. Their eyes, ears, mouths, and noses withered and died, their scalps burned inch by inch until they were reduced to dried-up corpses. Eventually, they disintegrated into a pile of ash.


    On the other side, Daemon, wearing a ck steel helmet and a crimson cloak, directed Caraxes. The dragon let out a piercing cry, like a war horn, and unleashed a continuous stream of scarlet Dragonfire.


    ��Vhagar, Dracarys!��


    The old dragon flew in from the side, spewing out ck smoke and Dragonfire, setting off an endless storm. Laena half-reclined in the saddle, casting a cold nce at Daemon, who deliberately avoided her.


    Four dragons at once were enough to destroy any force.


    ��Ahhh...��


    ��It hurts. Jumping into the sea is useless...��


    ��...��


    Ten brand-new warships and a mercenary army of nearly 2,000 men were obliterated. In just a quarter of an hour, they sank to the bottom of the sea to feed the fish.


    Rhaegar sat on the back of his dragon, not looking down but studying a crude map. The lines on the map were simple, depicting the Narrow Sea, Vntis, and the Smoking Sea along with the area of ver''s Bay.


    At the bottom of the map, in some ugly, illegible script in a dialect of Valyria, were a few lines:


    ��Good Masters... Aethyrys...Family Revival...


    ��Alliance... Qohor...��

 Chapter 519: A Group of Bastards Without a Dragon

    Chapter 519: A Group of Bastards Without a Dragon


    Afternoon, temporary base.


    A t, barren hillock stretched out for miles, devoid of grass, with a hot wind constantly blowing, mixed with sand and gravel.


    ��Roar...��


    Vhagar''s muddy pupils narrowed slightly, the massive dragon''s bodyzily sprawled on the ridge, its horse-sized throat asionally emitting a low growl.


    The sky was clear and cloudless.


    Three dragons of different colors hovered above, casting shadows over the three sheepskin tents below.


    Bang!


    Inside the central tent, a rough map was ced on the table.


    Rhaegar leaned over it, his hands propped on the table, speaking seriously, ��A detailed map of The Lands of the Long Summer, along with information on a supposed descendant of a known Dragonlord family.��His fingers traced an illustration of a red dragon with a crown, and he licked his lips. ��Quite a mess, isn''t it?��


    On either side of the table, the three dragon riders gathered.


    ��Aethyrys! A name known even today!��


    Daemon''s eyes were sharp, his voice low: ��Of the forty Dragonlord families, only a few are still remembered by the world.��


    The uncle and nephew exchanged a knowing look, everything said without words.


    Rhaegar touched the space ne, the sun pendant of which was carved with the crowned red dragon.


    Daemon nced at the ck whip in his nephew''s hand, recalling the binding spells he had mastered.


    All of it came from the Aethyrys family.


    Rhaegar spoke first, his tone unwavering: ��There can only be one Dragonlord family, and that is House Targaryen!��


    Daemon immediately agreed, his voice cold: ��There are four of us and four dragons. I propose we go straight to ver''s Bay tomorrow morning and burn that filthy ce to the ground.��


    The uncle and nephew reached a consensus, their opinions strikingly aligned.


    The Targaryens'' long reign was due to two main factors.


    First, the slow breeding of dragons.


    Second, their unique noble bloodline.


    Before the destruction of Old Valyria, the Targaryens were merely a mid-ranking Dragonlord family.


    After the Doom, the remaining Dragonlord families were all wiped out.


    As the sole survivors, House Targaryen rose to the pinnacle of the world.


    A newly revived Dragonlord family would threaten the Targaryens'' very foundation.


    Watching the taciturn uncle and nephew, Laena frowned and rationally analyzed, ��The authenticity of this news is unknown, and attacking without proper information is unwise.��


    ��Foolish, It��s not a matter of truth or falsehood!��


    Daemon retorted bluntly, ��If anyone dares to im the Dragonlord name, the prestige of House Targaryen will plummet.��


    Moreover, the Aethyrys family was not a recorded Dragonlord family.


    No one had ever heard of this name before the semi-ruins of Myr appeared.


    The uncle and nephew had kept their secret well, and it had never reached as far as ver''s Bay on the far eastern continent of Essos.


    There must be a reason for the news to spread.


    Laena''s eyes narrowed, and she looked away in disgust.


    Hena, who had been quiet until now, looked around and hugged herself.


    She sensed the tension in the air, and her sensitive nerves were on edge.


    ��Take a break.��


    Rhaegar noticed his sister''s difort and took off his ck robe, draping it over her shoulders.


    ��I��m fine,�� Hena said, shrugging slightly but appreciating the warmth. She asked, ��Where did this newse from? A Dragonlord family with a stable heritage wouldn��t hide its name for centuries, would it?��


    After the Doom, the Targaryens had taken root on Dragonstone for decades, passing through generations. It wasn��t until the ck Dread, Balerion, reached the age of one hundred and crossed the threshold of adulthood as a dragon that the Targaryens began their conquest.


    Meraxes and Vhagar had found their masters and reached the prime of their lives. Only then did the Conqueror and his two sisters start their war, thrusting the Targaryen and Valyrian bloodlines into the spotlight of the world.


    Laena��s throw a skeptical look at Daemon. Daemon, avoiding his wife''s gaze, looked directly at his nephew, his expression cold. His spies had not yet reached ver''s Bay.


    Rhaegar, no less direct, said, ��The news came from a Red Priestess of the Red Temple. Her followers are everywhere in Meereen.��


    She was a difficult woman with strange methods. When Vntis was selecting the a councilor to be stationed in Lys, the Red Priestess was on the shortlist. Rhaegar, disliking witches, had secretly removed her from the list.


    Daemon snorted derisively, "Great, maybe there really is a bastard Dragonlord family!"


    Whether Aethyrys'' bloodline was real or not, Dragonlords without dragons were considered bastards.


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow and said, ��ording to intelligence, a bastard Dragonlord named Aethyrys has received hospitality from the Good Masters of Meereen. It is said he was a former herdsman.��


    ��Any family members?�� Hena asked, her voice light.


    Rhaegar nodded. ��Yes, the whole family was admitted to the Great Pyramid in Meereen. A girl from the family became a concubine of the Good Masters.��


    ��No wonder they''re bastards!�� Daemon continued to mock.


    ��Cut the crap,�� Laena interjected, irritated. ��A fake family is not worth mentioning. The key is the wild young dragon in the Smoking Sea.��


    Rhaegar agreed. ��The young dragons haven��t yet left the Smoking Sea, but someone wants to seize the area to catch them.��


    The warships of ver''s Bay had already blocked the Smoking Sea, sending the first group of "dragonlords" of unknown origin to find the young dragons.


    Daemon proposed, ��I suggest we first burn down the Great Pyramid in Meereen and eliminate the threat of a bastard Dragonlord family.��


    "The impostors are afraid of death. It''s not worth the risk to use the dragons," Laena added. ��We don��t have a fleet, so we should first use the dragons to destroy the fleet blocking the Smoking Sea and cut off their ess.��


    Even if the fake Dragonlord family were real, they would be just like any other human without going into the Smoking Sea to find the dragons.


    First, they must eliminate the enemy''s wings. Then, they could wait for the naval forces of Westeros to arrive and destroy the enemy in one fell swoop.


    Bang!


    ��Foolish woman!�� Daemon mmed his hand on the table, sneering, ��Our reputation is more important than a young dragon.��


    Hena flinched at the sudden noise, her pretty face turning pale. She had seen her parents disagree often, leaving her with a psychological scar. The quarrel between Daemon and Laena made her even more anxious.


    Rhaegar red at his uncle and pulled the fragile Hena into aforting embrace. He made a decisive call: ��Tomorrow morning, we will gather to destroy the defenses of the Smoking Sea.��


    ��After that, we''ll wait for the fleet of House Vryon to arrive.��


    Westeros is far enough from the Stepstones. Beyond the Disputed Lands, the journey would take months each way. And with all the supplies along the way, it would be a real problem. This was one of the main reasons why Rhaegar didn''t like fighting across the sea. The front line was in a mess, and half of his advisers were still on their way. If the ships were caught in a storm, the entire crew would be fed to the fish.


    Daemon frowned, his expression darkening as he considered Rhaegar''s decision.


    Rhaegar continued, ��Uncle, you don��t want the young dragon to be taken away by some bastard, do you?��


    ��As you wish,�� Daemon finally conceded, his tone bitter.


    The tragedy of Morghul was a scar on all Targaryens.


    ��Very good!�� Rhaegar nodded, guiding Hena out of the tent.


    ��Oh, you��re so short-sighted,�� Laena said, ncing at her husband before walking away with a swagger.


    Daemon was left alone in the tent.


    ...


    Outside, on the barren hillside, the wind howled softly.


    Rhaegar nced back and saw Laena entering a separate tent with Hena.


    After a moment of silence, Laena headed towards another tent, with Vhagar following close behind.


    Four people, three tents.


    ...


    The next day.


    The Gulf of Grief.


    Located on the southern coast of the continent of Essos, it connects to ver''s Bay. To the south, it meets The Summer Sea, while its western shore holds the ruins of Valyria, and its eastern shore is home to the ancient Old Empire of Ghis. From above, it resembles an open trumpet, attracting merchant ships from all over the world for trade.


    At noon, the weather is clear. A fleet, manned entirely by ves, sets sail from The Gulf of Grief, passing the almost ck Isle of Cedars on its way to the Smoking Sea.


    The fleet, flying the golden banner of the Harpy, consists of more than thirty ships, capable of carrying five thousand men.


    The lead ship is a three-masted galleon. On deck, a ck-armored Unsullied stands straight and expressionless on guard.


    Deep in the hold, the dark, cramped space is damp and smelly. A dozen Valyrians with silver-blonde hair and fair skin, dressed in rags, huddle in the corner, shivering.


    ��Mother, I want to go home,�� a little girl sobs softly, her dirty face buried in the arms of a plump woman. The woman''s eyes are dull as she mechanically strokes her daughter''s long hair, pulling out a few unruly strands.


    They are all ves, crammed into the hold by their hypocritical Good Masters, treated like livestock. Their purpose is to be pushed into the Smoking Sea to die.


    "Stop crying!" A scruffy man with a mouthful of hard ck bread shouts an intimidating order from the hatch. He has taken over the only dry area, but has defecated and urinated on the others'' territory. His hair is dirty and gray, and he has indigo eyes that are unmistakably of Valyrian blood.


    The little girl stopped crying immediately, freezing at hismand.


    The slovenly man spits and curses, "Stop crying. If we find a dragon, we can escape our ve status."


    "The Smoking Sea is dangerous. Anyone who goes there is cursed," replies a skinny silver-haired youth from the corner, shyly.


    ��Hmph!�� The slovenly man drops a piece of ck bread, missing a back mr, and says indistinctly, ��I''d rather die than be a ve.��


    Then he changes his tone, his eyes glowing with a sinister light, ��If we can really ride a dragon, we would be more noble than anyone living in the Great Pyramid.��


    A Dragonlord who emerged from some alleyway would receive special treatment from the Good Masters. If he had known, he would have imed to be a Dragonlord too, enjoying the privileges of a superior.


    In Westeros, those who ride dragons are called Targaryen and Vryon. He would call himself Dayne Daeryon!


    He starts tough in a strange way. The skinny youth hears the noise and his face turns pale. He quickly covers his sore buttocks.


    ...


    The same scene is repeated in the hold of every ship.


    Hundreds of descendants of Valyria, captured and sold, are kept in the bottoms of the ships as supplies for capturing young dragons. Whether they are useful or not, they are sent to the Smoking Sea first. The Good Masters, who are merciless, do not care if the ves live or die.


    ...


    Ssh... ssh...


    As the sun sets, the waves grow rougher. The fleet sails out of The Gulf of Grief, around the smoky sea, and into The Summer Sea.


    ��Steer! Take in a sail!��


    The lookout sticks out his tongue to test the wind direction and gives orders to the sailors below. It is getting dark, and the wind is growing stronger. On the moody sea, it symbolizes the approach of danger.


    The ve army, lifeless and weary, joins the ranks of those steering the ship. The Unsullied patrol back and forth, monitoring therge ve army, as if they were superior to the ves.


    Hoo-hoo!


    A gust of stinking sea wind blows, and the half-hoisted sails shake violently.


    ��It''s windy!��


    Someone shouts, warning the fleet to navigate carefully.


    However, the wind and waves are not the only threats arriving. The sky has be overcast and dark, with clouds packed tightly together.


    Crack!


    A silver sh of lightning splits the sky like a silver vase.


    ��Roar!��


    The roar is louder than thunder, and rain begins to fall. A huge figure stirs the wind and clouds, causing countless sailors to look up in fear.


    ��Dragon!��


    ��Scorpion crossbow, hurry!��


    Themander of the Unsullied shouts, killing the ve soldiers who cower in fear and barely stabilizing the situation.


    In the midst of the chaos, the ve soldiers act as if they have epted their fate. They furiously tear off the huge curtain on the deck, revealing the newly built scorpion crossbow.


    Click! Click! The winch creaked, and steel spears were loaded as the crossbowmen aimed at the misty sky.


    Whoosh!


    A ck dragon shadow shed past, its wings like the scythes of death cutting through the rain-soaked ck clouds. The next moment, a cold voice rang out.


    ��Dracarys!��


    The ck dragon turned and swooped down, its dark body blending into the storm clouds, leaving only a pair of green eyes gleaming like bronze bells.


    ��Roar!��


    Green Dragonfire rained down, igniting every ship in the fleet. Cannibal''s cunning and tyrannical pupils darted left and right, pping its wings with an agility surprising for its size.


    Boom!


    Warships caught fire one after another, and screams echoed through the chaos.


    ��Fire! Hurry!��


    ��It hurts... run...��


    The contrasting voices ofmanders and ve soldiers created a symphony of panic and despair. The fleet was inplete disarray, with a few steel spears futilely shooting into the air.


    ��Roar!��


    ��Roar...��


    The counterattack was met with a series of dragon roars. Dreamfyre plunged through the clouds, its light blue Dragonfire fantastically beautiful as it engulfed lifeboats attempting to flee. Vhagar and Caraxes emerged together, ck smoke and red mes in tandem, extinguishing thest vestiges of courage in the ve soldiers.


    Crackling... drizzling...


    Lightning shed, thunder roared, and the wind howled. Rhaegar''s silver hair flew wildly in the storm, and the rain soaked his handsome face. He looked back and shouted, ��Quickly finish the battle! Pay attention to your altitude!��


    His voice, amplified by the skill of a binding spell, reached the ears of the other three dragonriders. Daemon''s eyes were cold, rainwater flowing down his corbone and into his chest, his scarlet cloak resembling a tongue of fire.


    Caraxes reveled in the thunderstorm, roaring maniacally as it spewed endless Dragonfire. Thebined destructive power of the four dragons overwhelmed the enemy fleet.


    In no time, the sea was dyed red with blood.


    ��Go! Return to the base!��


    Cannibal skimmed across the blood-red sea as Rhaegar leaned forward to give his orders. In just one day, the four dragons had surrounded the Smoking Sea, destroying dozens of warships and patrol ships from ver''s Bay.


    Exhausted in both spirit and body, they were no longer fit to fight in the rain.


    ��Roar...��


    Caraxes, exhrated, swayed like a snake across the sea, devouring the surviving enemies. Daemon looked around and saw many silver-haired figures, ordering them to be burned.


    Anyone who dared challenge the Targaryens'' uniqueness, innocent or not, deserved to die.


    Rhaegar watched from afar, signaling Hena and Laena to go ahead. He had captured some special ves and wanted to interrogate them for information.


    Daemon, meanwhile, could stay and vent his anger.

 Chapter 520: The Treasures of the Lands of the Long Summer

    Chapter 520: The Treasures of the Lands of the Long Summer


    It was night.


    The sky was dark, and the campfire cast a warm glow over the camp.


    ��Hurry up and dry off. Don''t catch a chill,�� Rhaegar said, his wet hair clinging to his forehead as he draped a ck robe over his shoulders and walked into the tent.


    Hena, pale and drenched, her hair sticking to her skin, followed him. She boldly and unashamedly entered the tent to change into dry clothes.


    Laena, her expression serious, walked into her own tent, wringing out her long, wet curls.


    Outside, the three dragons, including the Cannibal, panted heavily, their scales steaming as they dried in the campfire''s heat.


    The camp was a safe distance from the Smoking Sea. After a grueling day of battling multiple fleets from ver''s Bay and braving the storm, even the dragons were exhausted.


    Dreamfyrey sprawled on the hillside, and a new tent had been set up on the edge of its light blue wings. Inside the tent, people moved about, and faint, sorrowful prayers could be heard.


    ...In the dead of night, the dark clouds began to clear, allowing the moonlight to wash away the destion of thend.


    ��Roar...��


    In the stillness, a slender scarlet dragon appeared, itsrge wings beating the air as it descended.


    Boom!


    Caraxes, brimming with energy,nded with a jolt, sending a plume of dust into the air.


    Plop!


    A figure tumbled from the dragon''s back, rolling across the ground and alerting the camp.


    Rhaegar, bare-chested and startled, pulled aside the tent curtain and peered out.


    At that moment, a white figure dashed past him.


    ��Daemon!�� Laena, having emerged from her tent, spotted Caraxes and the figure sprawled on the ground. Without hesitation, she rushed over.


    ��I��m here,�� came a yful voice as Daemon, in full battle armor and unharmed, leapt off Caraxes. With a grin, he scooped up the fallen figure and said, ��You all left too soon. Look who I��ve brought back.��


    ��Woo-hoo~~��


    In the moonlight, the figure��s face came into view��a tall, disheveled man with white hair.


    ��A dragon seed?�� Laena''s brow furrowed in confusion.


    Daemon, holding the ragged man by the cor, headed toward the tent with a calm demeanor. ��Not just any dragon seed. I believe he may have valuable information.��


    Nearby, Rhaegar hastily donned his clothes.


    Hena, her face flushed, had buried her head in her chest, her hands sped behind her back, just as she was about to settle down for the night.


    ...


    A few minutester, the group gathered in Daemon''s tent.


    Rhaegar surveyed the scene. In one corner, huddled together, were the Valyrian ves they had yet to interrogate. They shivered in fear, unlike the confident Daemon, who sat with one foot on the table and the other on the ragged man.


    ��What��s going on?�� Rhaegar asked, his curiosity piqued.


    Daemon chuckled, kicked the slovenly man, and said, ��This thief ims to have seen the bastard Dragonlord. He might have some useful information.��


    Rhaegar studied the man. His hair was so filthy it was impossible to determine its original color. He knelt on the ground, trembling with fear, a far cry from the strong man he pretended to be. At first nce, Rhaegar��s interest waned. It was evident that this man bullied the weak and feared the strong, making him an unreliable source.


    ��Nephew, don��t underestimate the small ones,�� Daemon said with a sinister smile. He stepped on the scruffy man��s fingers, crushing them as he coldly demanded, ��Tell me everything you know. Everything you think is useful information!��


    ��Yes, I��ll tell you everything,�� the slovenly man stammered, clearly terrified by the dragon. ��The new Dragonlord is a shepherd who raises sheep. I even bought wool from him. His family lived in the countryside and originally had nost name. When the ships of the Triarchy entered Meereen, the Good Masters began recruiting Valyrians. It was only when he heard about the dragons that the new Dragonlord was taken seriously.��


    Bang! Daemon took off his helmet and smashed it onto the ragged man��s head. ��Tell me something useful, or I��ll lose my patience.��


    ��I��ll tell you! I��ll tell you!�� the ragged man cried, his head bleeding. ��The new Dragonlord said that if the Good Masters could find him a dragon, he would be able to ride it and be its rider. The Good Masters believe in him and even invited a sorcerer from Asshai to do a divination. Although the results are unknown, the Good Masters set out in search of the dragon, which must have something to do with the new Dragonlord.��


    He spoke rapidly, his breathing in gasps. Exhausted and in pain, he fainted.


    Daemon looked at the unconscious man with disdain. ��Useless.��


    ��The information he provided is somewhat useful,�� Rhaegar said, crossing his arms and maintaining hisposure.


    ��Well, I have some information,�� In the corner, a thin man with brown curly hair raised his hand.


    Hena, brushing her hair, nced at him.


    Laena met his gaze directly and said encouragingly, ��Don��t be afraid. Tell us what you know. No one will hurt you.��


    ��Thank you.��


    The thin man thanked her profusely and began, his voice trembling, ��I was a cleaning ve in the Great Pyramid before being sent to the ship.��


    ��When I was cleaning the toilets, I overheard the Good Masters talking.��


    ��They said... they said...��


    ��What did they say?�� Rhaegar asked, his interest piqued.


    ��They said they were collecting maps of the Lands of the Long Summer.��


    The thin man swallowed to moisten his dry throat and continued, ��It seems it was the new Dragonlord��s idea. He imed the Lands of the Long Summer held treasures left by his family.��


    ��Where exactly?�� Rhaegar��s interest deepened as he leaned forward.


    The thin man nced longingly at the red wine on the table and forced a smile.


    ��Drink.��


    Laena, showing kindness, poured the half-drunk ss of wine from Daemon and handed it to him.


    ��Thank you so much.��


    The thin man thanked her repeatedly and drank the wine eagerly, wiping his chin with his hand and licking it clean.


    Daemon red at him coldly, clearly displeased.


    Laena ignored Daemon and prompted gently, ��Continue.��


    ��Yes, kinddy.��


    The thin man, satisfied, spoke in detail, ��I don��t know the exact location, but it��s near the Isle of Cedars. The Smoking Sea is dangerous; the Good Masters only send ves to explore it. I suspect the treasure��s location is even more perilous, and even the fleet��s ve soldiers don��t know its exact spot.��


    Hearing this, Rhaegar and the others exchanged nces.


    The information was useful butcked specifics, leaving them frustrated.


    Rhaegar signaled, ��You all can go out.��


    The thin man immediately stood up, dragging the slovenly man with him, and left with the others.


    Soon, the camp was quiet.


    Rhaegar mused, ��The Aethyrys family, known for their fertility, were keen on leaving legacies for future generations.��


    The ruins of the Dragonlord in Myr are one such legacy. The information provided by the thin man is likely true. The Lands of the Long Summer probably do have Aethyrys treasures.


    Hena ran her fingers through her hair and remarked, ��Without a specific location, it��s all for nothing.��


    ��But it��s very valuable.�� Daemon leaned back in his chair, his eyes deep with thought, ��The treasure of a Dragonlord family is priceless.��


    ��We don��t know where it is,�� Laena countered.


    ��Then we��ll find out. The Good Masters and the Bastard Dragonlord of Meereen must know.�� Daemon��s mind was clear.


    Rhaegar thought it over and analyzed, ��This fleet is searching for the young dragon, which means they consider it more valuable than the treasure itself.��


    This suggests that the treasure is hard to find. Moreover, the new Dragonlord imed he could ride a dragon, so he might have inherited some special power from his ancestors, such as a binding spell.


    Daemon pondered how to uncover the treasure��s hiding ce.


    In the end, Rhaegar decided, ��The Smoking Sea blockade has been broken, our mission is aplished, and we shouldn��t waste more time here.��


    ��Are we going back?�� Hena��s eyes lit up with excitement.


    ��Yes,�� Rhaegar nodded. ��Instead of staying here, we should return to Westeros and rest for a while.��


    During this time, both humans and dragons have been unable to eat or hunt, and they��ve been working at high intensity. The fleet iste and doing useless work.


    Daemon thought for a moment and said, ��That��s fine. We��ll wait for the fleet to gather, then go to Vntis first, and finally to ver��s Bay.��


    Rhaegar nodded to Daemon and Laena and returned to the tent with Hena.


    The possibility of the dragon hatchlings being tamed was eliminated, removing a major worry. The rest was topletely eradicate the new bastard Dragonlord. Otherwise, it would always be a thorn in his side.


    ...


    Seven dayster.


    Lys, the tower.


    Four dragonsnded in session and entered the Dragonpit.


    Rhaegar slid off the back of his dragon and asked Daemon, ��Don��t you want to rest a bit?��


    Daemon walked up to Caraxes, rubbed his hands on the scarlet dragon��s snout, and said lightly, ��No, I��ll go back to Tyrosh after feeding Caraxes some sheep.��


    ��Roar...��


    Caraxes''s long, snake-like neck bent forward, and the dragon��s head followed Vhagar as it disappeared into the Dragonpit.


    Soon, the Dragonkeepers drove a flock of sheep to feed the hungry dragons.


    When Caraxes had eaten and drunk his fill, Daemon climbed onto the dragon��s back.


    Laena, holding her left arm in one hand, looked at her husband, who said nothing.


    Daemon couldn��t stand the reproachful look and turned his head to leave on the dragon.


    ��Daemon!��


    Suddenly, Laena called out his name after a moment of hesitation.


    Daemon turned around and looked down at her.


    For a moment, they locked eyes.


    Laena saw a hint of indifference and a trace of helpless boredom.


    She wanted to say something but couldn��t find the words.


    ��...��


    After a few seconds, Daemon��s cold expression returned, and he gave themand: ��Fly, Caraxes!��


    ��Roar...��


    Caraxes obeyed, its body undting like a snake, and itsrge, fleshy wings pped as it took off.


    He came and went in a hurry.


    Rhaegar watched the entire scene, his emotions extremelyplex, unsure of what to say.


    Compared to Daemon, he was no better off.


    After all, Rhaenyra, as his sister and wife, was more tolerant of him.


    The two had a child early on, so they didn��t have to fight over session.


    The heir is always a hurdle that ��power�� cannot ovee.


    ��Let��s go, Laena.��


    Hena, understanding the situation, took Laena��s arm in silence and led her back to the tower with heavy footsteps.


    Rhaegar followed closely behind.


    ...


    Lys Tower


    At that moment, someone arrived at the harbor ahead of them and was greeted by the queen and the council.


    The Council Chamber


    Rhaenyra wore a ck off-the-shoulder dress adorned with a gold and silver filigree dragon ornament. Sitting alone in the main seat with one leg crossed, she gazed down at the people below her with a faint expression, exuding a cold and noble demeanor befitting a queen.


    In front of the conference table, a man stood there, dressed in a brown suit. His dark hair and olive skinplemented the shrewd look in his eyes. He stood boldly, squinting at the scene before him.


    His thin chest was adorned with a badge of the Harpy, marking him unmistakably as a merchant from ver''s Bay.

 Chapter 501: Hatching Eggs or Taming Dragons?

    Chapter 501: Hatching Eggs or Taming Dragons?


    "Roar!"


    As the cobalt blue dragon appeared, its vertical pupils cast a disdainful nce over the group of human cubs before letting out a piercing, violent roar.


    "Brother, let''s retreat!" Aemon''s eyes widened in rm as he pulled Baelon, ready to flee.


    "Wait."


    "Wait!"


    Two voices shouted in unison, stopping Aemon''s escape n.


    Frustrated, Aemon snapped, "Why don''t you just run and wait for me to call the Trickster?"


    If he could rely on his dragon, he would have already secured victory in Vntis and imed a Free Cities title for himself, just as his uncle did once.


    Baelon, not taking his eyes off the dragon, pulled his hand away and asked hesitantly, "Is it trying to scare us?"


    "Really?" Aemon said in an incredulous tone.


    Baelon scratched his head. "Not exactly."


    "Then let''s run!"


    Aemon started to pull his brother away again.


    Ba grabbed his cor and frowned. "Why are you running? This is Daeron''s Tessarion."


    Her shout was the first to stop Aemon in his tracks.


    Aemon sniffed and looked more closely at the dragon.


    Tessarion��s wings were a deep cobalt blue, with scales on its ws, horns, and belly gleaming like polished copper. The dragon was enormous, easily fifteen meters long and nearing adulthood.


    Aemon stared in awe and muttered, "Huh. It really is our young uncle''s dragon."


    Baelon sighed in resignation. "It��s Daeron��s dragon."


    Daeron, a bookish type, rarely made appearances and seldom traveled with his dragon. Tessarion lived deep within the Dragonpit, unseen.


    Rhaena guided Maekar forward and asked, "Baelon, do you recognize Tessarion?"


    "Not exactly," Baelon admitted, shaking his head. "It just feels oddly familiar."


    Rhaena seemed to understand and redirected the conversation. "Let��s head into the Dragonpit. We don��t need to fear it."


    The ��it�� referred to the proud dragon perched above.


    Tessarion, with a reserved demeanor, moved with grace as it climbed out of the pit, its vertical pupils sparkling with intelligence. Aware of the human cubs'' gaze, it rose with a powerful, deliberate climb, spreading its cobalt wings in a dramatic disy.


    "Roar!"


    The long roar cut through the biting sea breeze.


    Baelon looked up at the towering dragon and sighed. "It''s so beautiful, it almost rivals Sunfyre."


    "Tessarion iszy, but it''s beatifull indeed," Rhaena remarked with a smirk.


    Aemon rolled his eyes. "It''s a female dragon?"


    "Who knows? It depends on whether itys eggs or not," Ba replied, cutting off further discussion as she led her siblings toward the entrance of the makeshift Dragonpit.


    The stone doors, weathered and mottled with age, were pushed open with considerable effort. The group squeezed through the narrow gap, making their way inside.


    ��Roar!��


    ��Roar����


    As he entered, two mournful roars echoed, followed by the harsh sound of wings pping.


    Ba��s face tightened with concern at themotion. ��Moondancer!��


    The hall was dimly lit, overrun with nuisance moss, and the shadows of two dragons moved restlessly.


    ��Roar!��


    One dragon shadownded in the center of the hall with a distinct thud. The dragon, adorned with green scales, a pearly crown of horns, and striking wing membranes dotted like a butterfly��s wings, was Moondancer. A deep gash marred its neck, blood dripping steadily.


    Seeing its rider, the dragon��s protector instinctively shielded Ba.


    ��What happened?�� Ba��s voice trembled as she gently cupped Moondancer��s neck and turned it to inspect the wound.


    Rhaena, equally distressed, offered her support, softlyforting her sister.


    Baelon, sensing something was amiss, exchanged a concerned nce with Aemon, who had already shrunk back from the doorway, his expression troubled.


    As they tried to manage the situation, another dragon shadow emerged from the darkness with a cheerful ��Roar...�� and a thin, scorpion-like tail.


    Before the Ba sisters could react, Maekar shouted. ��Trickster!��


    "It''s over!" Baelon and Aemon exchanged exasperated nces, feeling as if their ns were about to be foiled.


    ��Roar����


    Trickster emerged from the shadows, its head held high with a victorious air. Unlike Moondancer, Trickster��s dark green scales and bright red wing membranes were intact. Its head, neck, paws, and tail showed no sign of injury.


    Aemon let out a sigh of relief. ��Good to see you��re unharmed.��


    Trickster nuzzled Aemon��s side, its head arching in a disy of affection, as if seeking praise.


    Aemon, slightly embarrassed, nced at Ba.


    ��Hmph!�� Ba grunted in frustration, turning her gaze away.


    The two young dragons now stood less than three meters apart, their contrasting conditions starkly evident. Both were the same age��Moondancer had hatched in April, while Trickster emerged inte December, making them about eight months apart in development.


    Trickster had grown quickly, measuring over four meters long, while Moondancer, though slightly behind, had just crossed the four-meter mark. Moondancer was built for nimble mobility, whereas Trickster wasrger and more robust, with broad wings, sharp ws, a regal crown of horns, and a formidable tail.


    Given Moondancer��s injuries, it was clear that a conflict had urred between the two young dragons, with Trickster��s physical advantage ying a significant role.


    Aemon, unable to hide his admiration,plimented, ��Well done, Trickster.��


    Indeed, Trickster lived up to his reputation, showcasing the strength and resilience that made him stand out.


    Ba, pained by Moondancer''s injuries and Aemon''s insensitivity, gritted her teeth. "Aemon, do you want to get hit?"


    Aemon scowled and ducked behind Baelon, calling out defiantly, "Brother, go get her!"


    Baelon froze, looking between Aemon and the muchrger Ba. He swallowed nervously. "Gulp~"


    Stepping back, Baelon tried to cover behind Aemon. "Brother, you are a dragon rider."


    "You..." Aemon started, but was suddenly pulled forward by a slender, dark-skinned hand grabbing his cor.


    ��Youe here!�� Ba��s eyes were filled with determination, her intent clear.


    At nine years old, Ba had already developed early and was more than capable of asserting herself. Aemon, genuinely frightened, pleaded, ��Let go of me! Brother!��


    She had been the one changing his diapers when they were younger, always ready toy down thew.


    ��Roar!��


    ��Roar����


    Themotion between the children quickly attracted the attention of their dragons. Moondancer, wary from its recent injuries, stayed put. Trickster, on the other hand, watched the scene with curiosity, its vertical pupils glinting with interest.


    "What a loyal dragon," Baelon muttered, noticing Trickster''s attention.


    Leaving Aemon to his fate, Baelon turned and walked away with Rhaena and Maekar toward the depths of the Dragonpit.


    The temporary Dragonpit, improved from castle ruins, featured a lobby that had once been the main hall. The upper rooms were dpidated, with a rotting wooden staircase leading downward.


    The trio descended into the original cer. Decades of erosion had broken down the cer walls, connecting them to the sea cliffs and forming a curved crypt. Sunlight and sea breeze filtered through the openings.


    ��Roar~�� A subtle roar came from a damp corner.


    Rhaena smiled, recognizing the sound. ��Morning,e here.��


    ��Roar~�� A pale pink hatchling dragon, resembling a colorful butterfly, emerged from the pit and flew lightly over their heads.


    Baelon looked up, observing the dragon. ��Morning seems to have grown a bit.��


    Morning, born with a deficiency, had developed much slower than other young dragons. Though hatched at the same time as Moondancer, Morning was barely two meters long and still unable to fly with a rider.


    Rhaena, ustomed to Morning��s slow growth, gently stroked her pale pink scales. Morning enjoyed the touch, her dragon head arching to present a crown of tiny ck pearl-like horns.


    Baelon and Maekar crouched down, reaching out to feel Morning��s scales. The familiar dragon nestled into Rhaena''s arms, epting their touch without protest.


    After a long while, Rhaena sat on the ground and asked, "Baelon, has your dragon egg hatched yet?"


    She and her sister��s dragon eggs had broken their shells when they were six years old.


    Baelon rested his cheek on one hand and replied honestly, "No, it��s still like a stone egg."


    His dragon egg, with its bronze scales, had beenid by Syrax. Unfortunately, it had shown no signs of hatching.


    Rhaena hesitated before asking, "Have you considered taming a dragon?"


    "Yes!" Baelon answered firmly.


    Rhaena became more interested and continued, "Do you n to tame one of the young dragons in the Dragonpit at King''s Landing or a masterless dragon? For instance, Ser Laenor''s Seasmoke still roams around the Sea of Dorne. Seasmoke is an adult dragon like Syrax and Sunfyre. What do you think?"


    "Uh..." Baelon hesitated, trying to find the right words.


    Maekar, crouched on the ground and drawing circles with her little hands, muttered under her breath, "Brother wants a dragon, an adult dragon!"


    "Maekar!" Baelon couldn''t help but lose his stoicposure, as if his little secret had been revealed.


    Maekar looked away, then turned back with a low voice, "It''s not like your thoughts are hard to guess."


    He continued drawing circles on the ground, leaving Baelon with his small back hunched over, a basket on his back. Inside the basket was his dark red dragon egg.


    Rhaena snickered and fiddled with Maekar��s basket, asking, "Baelon, why didn��t you get a carrier for your own dragon egg?"


    She and her sister had found that dragon eggs seemed to hatch faster when exposed to people for long periods. They used to carry their dragon eggs everywhere.


    Baelon��s expression became unnatural as he covered his face. "My dragon egg... I left it in my bedroom."


    Maekar turned to his brother and gazed at him quietly.


    Baelon met his gaze, clenching his small fists in frustration.


    Maekar bristled and turned away, annoyed.


    The two brothers were not entirely honest. Aemon was a natural liar, much like his dragon. Baelon, though generally honest, often told foolish lies and got irritated when caught.


    "I want a sister, a sister is good," Maekar said in a dark voice.


    ...


    High Tide, Guest Residence


    Hena was assigned a room with a view of the sunrise and now sat on the balcony, her knees pulled up to her chin as she gazed out at the scenery.


    Unable to ride her dragon at this time, she found sce in the outside view.


    Knock knock!


    A knock sounded at the door.


    Hena''s ears twitched slightly, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Brother,e in," she called softly.


    Squeak��


    Rhaegar entered, smiling. "Are your ears that good?"


    "I just recognize your footsteps," Hena replied, turning her head slightly. Her long, silky hair cascaded down as she gazed warmly at him.


    Rhaegar closed the door behind him and walked over to the balcony.


    "Is sister resting?" Hena asked yfully.


    "Coaxing a child is exhausting," Rhaegar nodded, then chuckled. "Why do you look like you''re up to something sneaky?"


    Hena''s expression froze in surprise. "Do I?"


    Before she could respond further, a pair of small hands encircled Rhaegar''s waist.


    Rhaegar sighed, allowing her to hold him.


    Rhaenyra had always known about their close bond and hadn''t stopped it.


    The two siblings were only one formal ceremony away from cementing their rtionship. It should have taken ce long ago, but was dyed byplications in the Vale.

 Chapter 502: Princess of Summerhall

    Chapter 502: Princess of Summerhall


    Rhaegar sat down gently, leaning against the zed window, sunlight casting a warm glow on his face.


    Hena cherished the moment of tranquility. Shey down beside him, gathering her dress and curling her legs, her slender form rxed. Gathering her hair, she rested her head affectionately on her brother''sp.


    The midday sun shone brightly.


    Hena closed her eyes, savoring the familiar scent of orchids, her jeweled earrings glinting in the light.


    "The damage to the Sea Snake is a troubling sign," Rhaegar spoke abruptly.


    "You should heed Aemond''s advice," Hena murmured, reluctant to open her eyes, nestling her head against him like a pampered, contented deer.


    Rhaegar''s gaze softened as he murmured, "He is too young and impetuous. In his quest for honor, he overlooks many things."


    He loved his brother dearly, and appreciated his devotion to history and the martial arts. But Aemond''s malleable and fragile mind worried him.


    "As a child, he craved praise and was willing to be Aegon''s little follower to get it," Hena said calmly, taking her brother''s hand. "You should probablypliment him more, like a mother would."


    Rhaegar pondered this suggestion, then replied, "Forget it."


    Aemond''s desire for approval wasplex.


    The suggestion rejected, Hena remained quiet, like a sleeping beauty in a fairy tale.


    Rhaegar loved the intellectual beauty that brought him inner peace. His eyes lingered on Hena''s delicate features as he tenderly caressed her cheek.


    As his hand moved down her neck, tracing the contours of her dress, Hena suddenly opened her eyes, her voice dry. "Rhaenyra is too bossy."


    Rhaegar froze, his hand pausing. "What brought this on?"


    Hena sat up, looking directly at him with a frustrated tone. "She can''t even spare me a dragon egg."


    Rhaegar was momentarily puzzled.


    "She''s hostile to me," Hena continued, wrapping her arms around her knees and burying her head in the window.


    Rhaegar reached up and lightly touched her cheek. "She was hostile to Jeyne and never spoke about you."


    "That''s her way of being hostile to me," Hena said, her body tightening. She shook her head to avoid his touch, her voice trembling. "The same tactics. Jeyne was almost destroyed by her."


    Dumbfounded, Rhaegar withdrew his hand, his expression stiffened.


    Hena was relentless. ��That child, the Vale doesn��t recognize her.��


    ��Okay, stop it!�� Rhaegar abruptly interrupted, his voice tinged with anxiety.


    Hena fell silent, curling herself into a tight ball, resembling a bundle of white yarn.


    Heartache flickered in Rhaegar''s eyes. Fighting his inner turmoil, he softly reassured her, ��I��ll fix what happened in the Vale. It won��t happen again.��


    The events Hena referred to stemmed from the midsummer of 122 AC. At that time, Rhaegar had recently ascended to the throne and was consumed with political affairs across the kingdom. A six-month war had nearly brought down half of Westeros'' noble houses.


    Rhaenyra became queen and assisted with the stabilization of King��s Landing. Jeyne, pregnant, proposed a marriage. Rhaenyra reported the matter to him, showing great generosity by agreeing to Jeyne��s request to marry him as his consort. However, behind the scenes, there were maniptions.


    Rhaenyra intercepted Jeyne��s private letters and responded in Rhaegar��s name with a single word: ��Wait.�� Jeyne waited until Rhaegar had dealt with the session in Highgarden and until her first daughter was born.


    Unmarried pregnancies were deemed scandalous ording to Westerosi traditions. Although Rhaegar didn��t care initially, being king, Jeyne had her concerns. Rhaenyra intercepted the letters, falsified messages, and dyed their marriage.


    When Rhaegar finally went to the Vale to marry Jeyne, a group of Vale nobles opposed to female heirs exposed the unmarried pregnancy, attacking Jeyne��s inheritance. Rhaegar did everything in his power to maintain Jeyne��s status as Lady of the Vale, but their daughter was branded a bastard and could not bear the Arryn or Targaryen name.


    Furious, Rhaegar considered eliminating the rebellious Vale nobles, but they had all contributed significantly to the War of the Narrow Sea. With Rhaenyra��s influence and their contributions, he ended up only executing a few outspoken lords to quell the unrest.


    Adding to the frustration, Rhaegar��s father, Viserys, supported Rhaenyra both openly and behind the scenes. Rhaegar still couldn��t grant his daughter a proper surname. In his rage, he refused to assign her the usual bastard��s surname, leaving her without a proper title.


    This led to conflicts between Rhaegar and his two wives. It wasn��t until two yearster, when Jeyne gave birth to a second daughter, who bore the Targaryen name, that rtions between the Iron Throne and the Vale began to mend. That same year, Rhaenyra gave birth to Maekar.


    Rhaegar, persuaded by Viserys, brought Rhaenyra back from Dragonstone, leaving Jeyne and her first daughter to bear the brunt of the family feud. Though Jeyne married into the royal family as she wished, she failed to secure an heir with the Arryn name and spent years in seclusion in The Eyrie. Their first daughter, due to Rhaegar��s initial mistake, was disqualified from bearing the family name.


    Hena sniffed and buried her head between her knees, regretting, "I shouldn''t have stood by back then."


    She knew that Johanna had pressured Rhaenyra to intercept the letter but failed to intervene in time.


    She had kept her distance, thinking it was none of her business. It was only when the incident unfolded and she learned what had happened to Jeyne that she began to reconsider.


    Wracked with guilt, Hena chose to leave the Red Keep, missing both the name day and the wedding.


    Rhaegar frowned and took her hand firmly. "Don''t imprison yourself in the past. I''m preparing for the ceremony this time. Do you prefer Dragonstone or Summerhall?"


    Hena looked up silently, her voice soft. "That would coincide with Aemond."


    "Forget about Aemond," Rhaegar said, trying to soothe her. "Expecting him to handle marriage is like expecting all of Dorne to vanish into the desert."


    Hena pursed her lips lightly and decisively said, "Summerhall! Dragonstone is not my territory."


    "Okay, Summerhall it is," Rhaegar agreed without hesitation.


    Following Aegon''s campaign in the Stepstones, Hena and Aemond had been sweeping up the remnants of Dorne hiding in the desert. Rhaegar had named her "Princess of Summerhall" in recognition of her war service.


    The estate had beenpleted as the Prince''s Pce, renamed Summerhall by Hena in light of the "Long Summer" sword and his "Prince of Summer" titles.


    Giving Summerhall to Helena was a gesture of Rhaegar''s love and perhaps a bit of his selfishness. Rhaenyra and Jeyne both had their ownnds, but when Hena left King''s Landing, she had to rely on the hospitality of others without a ce of her own.


    Receiving his affirmative answer, Hena''s gloom cleared, and she smiled again.


    Rhaegar ruffled her hair and joked, "How old are you, still acting like a little girl?"


    Hena closed her eyes reassuringly and suddenly asked, "Shall I prepare a dragon egg for that child?"


    A niece without a family name is denied many rights. Dragon eggs were stored in the greenhouses of Dragonstone, under Rhaenyra��s control.


    Rhaegar restrained hisughter and mused, "She doesn''t have a family name yet, but she will someday, along with a dragon egg."


    "Okay," Hena replied softly. "Dreamfyre hasid a new clutch of eggs. If you don��t need them, send them back to King''s Landing Dragonpit."


    She was being cautious, knowing that Rhaenyra might cause trouble, so she kept the dragon eggs at Summerhall.


    Rhaegar was speechless. "I''m still the king on the Iron Throne, not undermined by my own queen."


    That child was special, inheriting his gift of prophecy. She avoided people and spent much time alone. If Rhaegar had wanted to send a dragon egg, he would have already done so.


    It was like the situation with his second daughter with Jeyne. He hadn''t acted because not being able to give his daughter a family name was a source of shame for him.


    He vowed to rectify this and bestow both a family name and a dragon egg.


    The wild hatchlings in the Smoking Sea, the alliance between Vntis and ver��s Bay, and the Sea Snake��s return from his injuries��all pointed to one thing.


    Conflict was brewing into war. Rhaegar intended to seize this opportunity to correct some of the mistakes he had made since ascending the throne.


    It would begin with the session battle over Driftmark.


    ...


    The Next Day


    The sun rose over the harbor of Hull, bustling with activity.


    High Tide, Guest Residence


    A servant knocked early, bringing washing supplies and breakfast. As the morning progressed, Rhaegar, still sleepy-eyed, emerged from Hena''s room.


    "Going somewhere?" Hena asked, tying her hair back.


    "Sea Snake is waiting for us in the Hall of Nine, I suppose," Rhaegar replied with a yawn. "Looks like I��m ying the viin."


    Family conflicts were notoriously difficult to resolve, and one night was hardly enough for Sea Snake to stabilize his nephews.


    "There''s a favor to be done," Hena muttered.


    Rhaegarughed. "I expected as much before we got to the Driftmark."


    Their conversation the previous night had helped open Hena��s heart. Usually, she avoided Rhaenyra and Jeyne and tried to keep out of conflicts.


    As they walked down the hallway, making small talk, they passed several silver-haired, ck-d figures. Rhaegar noticed their typical Vryon dark-skinned faces. A middle-aged man who resembled Sea Snake led the group, followed by several others of simr age, whispering among themselves.


    "A couple of Sea Snake''s nephews," Rhaegar identified them. He recognized them from the War of the Narrow Sea.


    "Who?" Hena asked, adjusting her hair and missing the group.


    "It''s nothing. We��ll see them in a moment," Rhaegar said casually.


    Hena nodded, not pressing further. They walked in silence for a while.


    Hena suddenly asked, "What about Baelon and the others?"


    "Ba took them to y," Rhaegar replied. "The kids went wild and didn��t even make it back to High Tidest night."


    Hena let out an "Oh" and then added, "Baelon��s dragon egg hasn��t hatched, and he wants an adult dragon."


    "Yeah, the kid��s pretty ambitious," Rhaegar said, feeling a bit relieved.


    "The only proper dragon left is Dragonmont��s Silverwing," Hena noted. "Grey Ghost and Seasmoke are too young, and only Silverwing is masterless."


    "Silverwing is fine," Rhaegar said helplessly. "I just don��t know if Baelon can bond with it."


    Grey Ghost had shown affection for Baelon, often trying to abduct him when they were in Dragonstone, but it hadn��t worked out.


    Hena thought of their father��s dragon, Vermithor, now living in the Dragon��s Nest on the Isle of Faces, rarely used as a mount in recent years.


    "I��ve heard from fishermen that Seasmoke has been roaming the Sea of Dorne," Rhaegar said. "Sometimes another dragon appears with it."


    "Not Dreamfyre and Sheepstealer?" Hena wondered. These were the only dragons known to roam nearby.


    "Not sure. Maybe there are wild dragons," Rhaegar raised an eyebrow, recalling the messages left by Vaegon the Dragonless.


    He searched for them many times and didn''t encountered wild dragons in Sothoryos.

 Chapter 503: Brotherhood and Respect

    Chapter 503: Brotherhood and Respect


    Hall of Nine


    The hall buzzed with activity as Rhaegar and Hena stepped through the doors. On the left side of the room stood Sea Snake and Rhaenys, who greeted Rhaegar with a respectful bow, "Your Grace."


    Rhaegar nodded in acknowledgment, his gaze shifting to the right side of the hall where several Vryons, whom he had seen earlier, stood in a row.


    The Vryons, all silver-haired and purple-eyed, bent low in a synchronised bow. The leader of the group stepped forward, hat in hand. "Your Grace, thank you foring to Driftmark to seek justice."


    "Hold on," Rhaegar cut him off, his tone firm. "Let''s not jump to conclusions before the matter is resolved."


    Years on the Iron Throne had taught him the importance of caution. The ability to say "no" was crucial, and indulgence was a luxury he couldn''t afford.


    "Your Grace..." the man began again, but hispanion quickly tugged at his sleeve, shaking his head to stop him.


    The manposed himself and rephrased, "Your Grace, I am Malentine Vryon, the one who sent the letter. I served in the War of the Narrow Sea."


    "I remember you, Malentine," Rhaegar replied, his gaze unwavering. "But let''s hear all sides before making any decisions."


    He took a moment to survey the Vryons before him, all cousins and nephews of Sea Snake, their features unmistakably Valyrian. Five in total, each representing a different branch of the family.


    Turning to Hena, Rhaegar patted her arm gently. "Go stand with Aunt. This won''t take long."


    As she moved to join Rhaenys, Rhaegar ascended the steps to the driftwood throne at the head of the hall. Noticing the empty throne, he nced to the side where Rhaenyra sat, dressed in ck with a gold crown, absently ying with her ring.


    Rhaegar took his seat on the driftwood throne and leaned towards Rhaenyra. "Where is Visenya?"


    "Sara is taking care of her," Rhaenyra replied, patting her thigh with a sigh. "I need to be here for Rhaena''s sake."


    "Of course," Rhaegar agreed.


    Rhaenyra held a unique position, not only as the Queen of the King but also as the Queen of Lys, a title Rhaegar had granted her topensate for the loss of her inheritance. She was a proper "Your Grace," outranking all Princes and Princesses.


    With the preliminaries out of the way, it was time to address the matter at hand.


    Rhaegar sat with a critical expression, his face stern. "Ser Malentine, state your im."


    Malentine stepped forward, briefly locking eyes with the other cousin Rhogar. A silent nod from Rhogar conveyed determination.


    Gathering his resolve, Malentine spoke confidently, "Your Grace, ording to the traditions of Westeros, male inheritance takes precedence over female inheritance..."


    He continued with a litany of arguments, emphasizing that Rhaena, as a female and an outsider, should not inherit Driftmark''s foundations. He pointed out that both he and his cousin were direct nephews of Sea Snake and capable, fertile males. They argued that they were better suited to lead House Vryon andmand its fleet.


    Rhaegar remained impassive, though internally, he was skeptical. How were these men truly fit to inherit?


    House Vryon''s prominence wasrgely due to the efforts of the Sea Snake. He had rebuilt High Tide, established Spicetown, and exploited maritime trade like never before, creating a fleet that was the pride of Westeros.


    Suppressing an eye roll, Rhaegar turned to the Sea Snake, maintaining an impartial tone. "What is your opinion, Lord Corlys?"


    Sea Snake, his expression severe, stepped forward to address the usations of his nephews. Composing himself, he began, "Your Grace..."


    ...


    Negotiations Underway in High Tide


    Hull, Dark Alley


    Daeron led his fianc��e and three nephews, chatting andughing as they shopped. Without realizing it, they wandered into a dark alley, a neighborhood known for its thriving custom business.


    On either side of the street, stalls manned by the poor sold handicrafts. In the shadows and street corners, ragged men and women loitered, moaning and swaying.


    As they walked, the sounds of couples in the throes of passion filled the air. Daeron chuckled inwardly, annoyed that he had gotten so caught up in conversation that he had taken a shortcut through this unsavory area.


    "Ahem," he coughed softly to hide his embarrassment. "The harbor is just ahead. Let��s pick up the pace."


    Ba and Rhaena, being older and more aware, noticed the unusual nature of the dark alley. A few meters away, a man and a woman were entangled in a passionate embrace, an unsettling sight.


    Ba grunted softly, pulling her sister forward. Daeron, his gentlemanly image faltering, felt even more embarrassed.


    "Prince, this is not a ce to linger," warned Cole, the Kingsguard apanying them. He looked serious as he picked up young Maekar.


    Maekar''s cheeks turned red, and he covered his eyes with one small hand. In contrast, Baelon and Aemon looked around curiously, trying to locate the source of the sounds.


    Daeron hurriedly agreed. "Yes, let''s go."


    The group moved quickly through the dark alley, their numbers smaller due to Daeron not bringing many guards on this casual outing. Besides Kingsguard Criston Cole, there were only a few guards on duty.


    A few momentster, they emerged from the dark alley near the entrance to a brothel. As Daeron walked by, amon-looking whore ran out to stop him.


    The whore bowed her head and cautiously delivered a message, "Prince, a distinguished guest is here to see you."


    Daeron eximed, "I haven''t been here before!"


    He was incredulous. He prided himself on his cleanliness.


    The prostitute, startled by his outburst, insisted, "Yes, you have not been here."


    "Nonsense, of course I haven''t been here!" Daeron was increasingly agitated. Rhaena was nearby, and he wasn��t even married yet.


    The whore, on the verge of tears, rified, "It''s Prince Aegon. He''s inside."


    Baelon, half understanding, tugged on Daeron''s sleeve. "Is Uncle calling you? Should we go?"


    Daeron''s face darkened, and he was about to refuse outright. The prostitute, desperate, leaned in and whispered something to him.


    Daeron��s expression grew even more severe. After a brief internal struggle, he faced Cole and gritted his teeth. "Protect them. I��ll be backter."


    "No problem," Cole replied firmly. "Pay attention, and I''ll let Ser Arryk know toe over."


    The Kingsguard��s primary duty was to protect those around Daeron. Daeron nodded and followed the prostitute into the brothel.


    Cole, with a quick nce, led the three curious young princes away from the ce of wrongdoing.


    ...


    In the Brothel


    Daeron, after witnessing a shocking scene, finally encountered his brother Aegon.


    Aegon, reeking of booze and draped with a whore, giggled drunkenly, "You''re 12 years old. Want this old man to pay for your first time?"


    Daeron, mortified, held his nose. "Aegon, if that''s all you wanted, I''m leaving."


    "Hey, hey, shame on you." Aegon pushed the whore aside, wrapped an arm around Daeron''s shoulders, and led him outside.


    Aegon was never one to hide his activities. He was generous and bold, mingling confidently with the crowd in the packed hall.


    "Where are we going?" Daeron resisted, stretching his head to keep as much distance as possible from Aegon.


    Aegon smirked mischievously. "I''ll show you a little secret."


    "What?" Daeron frowned.


    "You''ll see," Aegon said cheerfully. "You might even want to have some fun here once you see it."


    Daeron felt helpless. If it weren��t for needing Aegon to help him pick up a ruby ne in Qarth for Rhaena, plus a bit of curiosity, he would have walked away.


    Aegon, saying no more, hemmed and hawed as he guided Daeron up the stairs.


    They soon reached a secluded, private room.


    "Follow me," Aegon whispered, slipping to the wooden window outside thepartment.


    The windows were intricately carved, offering small gaps for peeking. A cloth curtain covered the view from inside.


    An old hand at such ces, Aegon slipped his fingers into a gap and tugged a corner of the curtain aside. "Come on, right here."


    Naively, Daeron assumed some lord was inside, performing a spectacle. He wanted to refuse, but curiosity overcame reason.


    "Just this once," Daeron muttered, more to himself than to Aegon.


    Tiptoeing closer, he peered through the gap.


    Inside, the dim candlelight and pungent incense created an intimate atmosphere. A round tableden with fruits and wine, and arge round bed surrounded by gauzy curtains dominated the room.


    On the bed, a silver-haired figurey curled up, their lean body vulnerable. An aging prostitute sat beside them, gently caressing the young body. She ran her fingers through the youth��s silver hair, attempting to kiss him.


    "No!"


    The young man jerked his head away, burying his face in his arms. The action, reminiscent of a child''s instinct to seekfort, was a poignant disy of vulnerability.


    Outside the window, Daeron''s eyes widened in shock. "Aemond..."


    "Shh!" Aegon quickly covered Daeron''s mouth, his expression furious. "If you shout, will I still have a ce here?"


    Plop��


    As the brothers whispered, a muffled thud echoed from the box, followed by an almost insane roar of rage:


    "Aegon, I''ll kill you!"


    ...


    Hall of Nine


    Rhaegar sat high on his driftwood throne, watching the bickering unfold below.


    Sea Snake, his face darkened with anger, said contemptuously, "I built Driftmark''s foundation with my own hands. It''s not your ce to decide who I hand it over to."


    Malentine countered, "Rhaena''sst name was originally Targaryen, and she''s still a girl!"


    The other nephews chimed in, turning on their formerly wise and benevolent uncle.


    Sea Snake, unable to outargue them alone, red angrily. The five men before him were all his nephews, each of whom had been loyal to him at one time or another. It was painful to be betrayed by close family.


    Rhaenys watched with a detached sense of humor, her arms crossed. It was like watching a troupe of clowns.


    She had always maintained a neutral stance on passing over Rhaena. Laenor''s death had left her heart cold, especially after Laena suffered from Daemon''s unfair treatment. Now, her loyalty was solely to her husband and immediate family.


    As for Driftmark and House Vryon, they were but passing clouds in the brief span of life.

 Chapter 504: Aemond Is Also Crazy

    Chapter 504: Aemond Is Also Crazy


    "Your Grace, Rhaena is Prince Daemon''s daughter. Don''t you think it''s wrong for her to inherit Driftmark?" Malentine''s voice cut through the room, turning the bickering towards Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar watched with boredom, his interest piqued only when the topic shifted to him. Malentine, eyes fixed on the young king, continued with righteous indignation, "House Targaryen and House Vryon have been steadfast allies since the days of ancient Valyria. Together, we have survived the Doom."


    The words were spoken with boldness and bravado. Rhaegar frowned and finished the thought, "But?"


    "But!" Malentine echoed with confidence.


    Seeing him so emboldened, Sea Snake realized the danger and warned sharply, "Watch your words when you talk to the king!"


    "Uncle, are you afraid?" Malentine smirked, mistaking his uncle''s caution for fear.


    Sea Snake''s expression remained stony.


    Rhaenys shook her head, her smile fading. "Oh, there''s your good nephew," she remarked, "A bunch of people with high aspirations, not as good as my son."


    Malentine red at her, pointing an using finger. "The once contender for the Iron Throne, the Queen Who Never Was, full empty promises," he spat. "Vryon gave everything to support you, but you failed to return the favor!"


    Before Rhaenys could respond, Sea Snake''s fury erupted. "Malentine, if you don''t want to lose your tongue, stop this madness!"


    Rhaenys��s contributions to Vryon were beyond mere fame and fortune, and Sea Snake knew it.


    Realising he had gone too far, the Malentine fell silent, a cold sneer on his face.


    "Coward," Rhaenys sneered back, "ming women for your failures to mask your ipetence."


    The nobles who supported Viserys''s rise to power outnumbered her supporters twenty to one. The majesty of the royal family remained unshaken. Even if House Vryon threw its full weight, it would still be like a fish out of water.


    Malentine, no longer pestering his aunt and uncle, turned his focus back to Rhaegar on the driftwood throne.


    "Ser, tell me everything you haven''t said," Rhaegar prompted kindly, encouraging him to speak.


    Below, Sea Snake closed his eyes, bracing for the worst.


    Malentine, oblivious to his blunders, pressed on, "With Rhaena inheriting Driftmark, is it the Crown''s intention to meddle in Vryon''s session?"


    Rhaegar, intrigued, replied, "Do you think the royal family is nting a member just to steal House Vryon''s power?"


    "With all due respect, Your Grace," Malentine strained his neck, emphasizing his point, "Rhaena is Daemon''s daughter and betrothed to your youngest brother. This is Targaryen��s way of doing injustice to a fellow ancient Valyria descendant."


    Rhaegar leaned forward slightly, his smile not reaching his eyes. "The daughter of Daemon, as you call her, is also of Laena''s bloodline," he said.


    In the end, Rhaena continues the Sea Snake''s legacy.


    Malentine gathered his courage and spoke bluntly, "There is still blood left in the men of Vryon, and there is no need for a passed-over daughter!"


    "Very good," Rhaegar pped his hands together and grinned. "Finally, a true thought."


    "Your Grace," Malentine stammered, still trying to assert his position.


    Rhaenys sneered, "I should really call Laena and Daemon back to see how their reputations have been swept away."


    The two Dragonriders were being manipted at will, yet they hadn''t returned to Driftmark to defend their daughter.


    Rhaegar''s decision was made. He leaned toward Rhaenyra and whispered, "It��s been a long time sitting here. Would you like to go rest?"


    "Absolutely," Rhaenyra agreed, rising gracefully. "Don��t forget to check on Visenyater."


    "No problem." Rhaegar watched her leave with a smile that faded as soon as she was out of sight.


    He stepped down from the driftwood throne and beckoned Hena to his side. Passing Sea Snake, he spoke with a grim expression, "I don''t want to hear from them again, Lord Corlys."


    Ignoring the Vryons'' cries of protest, Rhaegar exited the hall. The corridor featured a mural of a three-masted ship riding the waves, a tribute to the Sea Snake''s voyages.


    Rhaegar nced at the mural and remarked sadly, "Even the greatest of ships will decay one day."


    House Vryon''s glory stemmed from Sea Snake Corlys. Who would uphold Vryon''s seahorse banner when he passed away?


    Hena bowed her head in silence.


    As the siblings left the gate, guards rushed into the Hall of Nine.


    "No! No!"


    "Your Grace, you can''t do this to us..."


    "Uncle..."


    Rhaegar walked down the stairs, the mournful yells behind him dissolving into wails of pain.


    "Uncle, I curse you! You shall be cut off from your children!" Malentine''s spiteful screams echoed, filled with fear, then abruptly stopped. Only a vague wail remained.


    Without looking back, Rhaegar sighed, "The Sea Snake has its moments of mercy."


    After all, they were his nephews and he couldn''t bring himself to kill them. Kinyers are cursed.


    Upset, Rhaegar asked, "Where did Aemond go?"


    He needed an executioner for his will, and his brother''s absence was keenly felt.


    Hena, still dazed and confused, suddenly spoke, "The dragon is bleeding."


    "What?" Rhaegar''s face changed, his nerves instantly tightening.


    ...


    Hull.


    Ba led the way as several children arrived at the bustling harbor, ying and fooling around.


    "Look, there''s the Sea Snake," Rhaena said with a smile, pointing to therge ship under repair.


    Baelon looked puzzled. "Huh, that''s the Sea Snake? We saw it yesterday when we were here."


    The weathered old ship bore no visible signs of its legendary past.


    "Come on, I''ll show you around," Ba, the big sister, called out, leading her little followers onto the ship.


    The entire harbor was her grandfather''s domain, and being there felt like being at home��no one dared to obstruct them.


    A few of the kids managed to blend in on the ship. The deck was bustling with hardworking sailors.


    Some hung ropes to clean barnacles from the hull, others fetched water to wash blood from the decks, and some hammered away, making repairs. Everyone was busy with their tasks.


    Seeing such a scene for the first time, Baelon looked around curiously, excitement in his eyes.


    "Can I look inside?" Baelon asked, eager to explore the ckened cabin.


    "Sure," Ba replied confidently, tapping her chest once. She led Baelon and Aemon toward the cabin while Rhaena stayed behind, holding Maekar, who seemed uninterested.


    "Let''s go to the back of the boat," Rhaena suggested, "where the fishermen are castings for fish."


    Maekar''s eyes were dull, but he allowed the big sister to lead the way.


    Soon, the group went their separate ways.


    Near the cabin door, a silver-haired, dark-skinnedd sat on the floor, straddling a board to remove nails. In Westeros, where productivity was low, any ironwork was precious.


    "Addam, fix the deck," the old shipwright called from the sidelines.


    "Coming, Master Mance," the boy replied, his face lighting up with joy as he switched tasks. As an apprentice, he cherished any hands-on experience.


    "Have a good look around; I''ll go check on the materials," the old shipwright, a tall man, said, turning and walking off the boat.


    Addam watched his master''s back with delight, easily satisfied. Suddenly, unfamiliar faces caught his attention.


    "Huh?" Addam frowned.


    A dozen men dressed as porters came aboard, carrying various materials on their shoulders.


    Addam was puzzled. "Is there a change in the shipyardbor?"


    He couldn''t figure it out but decided to keep an eye on them. Even though Lord Corlys''s harbor rarely had any idents, it was always best to be cautious.


    ...


    Dark Alleys, in a Brothel


    "Aegon, don''t run if you have the guts! I''ll break your legs myself!"


    A furious roar echoed down the candle-lit hallway. Aemond burst out of the room, sword in hand, his one eye blood-red with rage, looking as if he wanted to devour someone.


    He was running so fast he hadn''t even dressed properly, a hastily tied scarf around his waist exposing his scarred, white-striped body.


    Aegon, in a panic, turned and bolted, shoving people out of his way and cursing, "Bastard, I''m your brother!"


    "Shut up and don''t insult the word ''brother!''" Aemond shouted, barefoot and wild-eyed, swinging his sword. "You''re a stupid pig, always bullying your own brother without a shred of decency."


    "Bullshit! The first time you visited a whorehouse, it was because of me," Aegon shot back, dodging down the hall. "Don''t forget, I paid for your deflowering!"


    Even if the other party is a pimp, you still need to pay to get down in person. Aegon cursed the ck-hearted brothel for charging him for his brother''s experience.


    The thought of this made Aemond even angrier. "How dare you bring up old matters with me!" he screamed, shing wildly with his sword.


    The brothers chased each other, cold steel shing in the dim light. Patrons and prostitutes alike squealed in fear, scrambling to avoid the flying des.


    Daeron, recovering from his shock, rushed to stop Aemond, his hands cold and trembling. "I''m the one who wanted toe and see! We''re all brothers; let''s go back and talk this out."


    Even if Aemond wanted to kill Aegon, he��d need approval from their elder brother Rhaegar. Making a scene in a brothel was a disgrace the royal family couldn''t afford.


    "Fuck off!" Aemond, consumed by anger, shoved the slender Daeron aside. "What do you know? Get out of my way."


    Still holding onto a shred of sanity, Aemond didn''t take his anger out on his youngest brother. But the feud with Aegon was far from settled.


    Daeron fell to the ground, almostnding in thep of a naked whore. In desperation, he shouted, "Honor! The honor of the family!"

 Chapter 505: Assassination in Progress

    Chapter 505: Assassination in Progress


    With a cry from Daeron, Aemond, who was blocking Aegon, froze mid-motion. His long, slender legs halted, and his raised arm paused, the one-handed sword hovering above Aegon''s head, just inches from ending his life.


    "Hoo hoo hoo..." Aemond took deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down.


    Aegon, sensing his brother''s hesitation, felt a slight wetness in his pants. Seizing the moment, he scrambled out from under the table, not forgetting to thank Daeron. "Thanks, brother." Then, he slipped away.


    Aemond''s frustration boiled over, and his sword ttered to the ground as he staggered. "Fucking asshole," he muttered.


    Daeron rushed forward to help his brother, worried that he might faint from the strain.


    "I''m fine, don''t worry," Aemond said, pushing him away and gritting his teeth. He didn''t want to look vulnerable.


    Daeron tried to reassure him, "Aegon didn''t mean it. I insisted oning here."


    "Don''t cover for him; you''re a terrible liar," Aemond replied, his one eye shing coldly. He had seen through everything long ago. Aegon was nothing but a bully, never treating him as an equal.


    Daeron fell silent, guilt gnawing at him. He med himself for sumbing to the temptation to peek into Aemond''s privacy, almost causing a disaster.


    In the midst of their conversation, the old madam, dressed in a revealing outfit, descended the stairs briskly. Aemond looked away, his manner indifferent.


    The madam, experienced and shrewd, immediately assessed the chaotic scene. She instructed her subordinates to fetch a silver-haired girl dressed provocatively and send her to the brothers.


    The silver-haired girl, with a delicate face and timid eyes, held a feather fan to cover herself modestly, though her exposed bottom betrayed her upation.


    Sensing Aemond''s gaze, she attempted to cover herself shyly with the fan, but her efforts only highlighted her exposed state.


    Aemond''s one eye locked onto the madam. "What do you take me for?" he asked coldly, each word dripping with menace.


    Despite being shirtless, his presence was stillmanding. The madam forced a smile, trying to maintainposure. "A seeker offort," she said, removing the feather fan and pushing the girl lightly towards Aemond.


    "She''s the best dancer in Hull," the madam continued, her voice oozing with false charm. "Outsiders say she''s like a real Princess."


    Daeron sniffed, scowling darkly at the girl. Her silver hair, purple eyes, and fair skin marked her as a descendant of Valyria. Seeing her in a brothel in Hull, he couldn''t help but feel a sense of unease. This girl was likely a lost dragon seed.


    "You...", Daeron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.


    In an instant, a harsh, metallic glint sliced through the air.


    With a grotesque thud, a silver-haired head soared upward, trailing a quartet of blood arcs before rolling to a stop on the ground, face turned skyward. Its eyes wide with disbelief, the severed head retained an eerie, flirtatious wink.


    A collective gasp filled the room.


    The upants of the brothel��prostitutes and clients alike��screamed in terror, rushing to escape the macabre scene.


    The elderly madam stood frozen, her gaze fixed on the severed head now lying at her feet. Her bare feet shifted subtly, the silver strands of hair tickling her toes, sending a shiver of dread through her spine.


    The room filled with the rank smell of fear as the madam, overwhelmed, lost control. A yellow stream broke free, sshing onto the floor, spreading around the grim relic of a once-living being.


    "Brother!" Daeron choked out, his eyes locked on Aemond in disbelief.


    Aemond, unfazed, wiped the blood from his face with a nonchnt swipe of his hand. His expression darkened as he stared at the lifeless head, its hair now matted in the spreading puddle.


    This? A princess?


    A mere ything, defiled and degraded, dares to tarnish the royal family honor?


    For a moment, Aemond''s vision blurred. He saw Rhaenyra, then Hena, the cold light in his eyes softening briefly before he shook his head violently, regaining his focus.


    The madam, ovee by fear, fell to her knees.


    "Prince, I��" Her voice trembled, faltering before she could continue.


    Aemond grimaced, his sword tip scraping against the cold, damp floor as he readied himself to respond.


    Bang��


    The door burst open with a violent crash, and a squad of soldiers stormed in, their spears raised and ready.


    "Get out, all of you!" Daeron shouted, positioning himself to protect Aemond.


    Aemond��s eyes widened with shock, his resolve wavering as he hesitated to strike the elderly madam.


    "Stop this madness!" Amanding voice cut through the chaos. The soldiers blocking the entrance were roughly pushed aside, revealing Arryk, d in silver armor and white robes, his expression severe. Beside him was Steffon, looking equally grim.


    Both were off-duty during the day, and Criston Cole, who was supposed to be on shift, had been summoned to cover for them.


    Aemond turned his icy gaze toward the imposing figure of Arryk and sneered, "Has my brother sent you to arrest me?"


    Though he knew such an usation was far-fetched, he needed to assert himself.


    Arryk��s response was a silent advance, his expression unreadable.


    Aemond, trying to maintain his dignity, lifted his chin in defiance.


    "Prince, be careful," Arryk warned Daeron, before taking advantage of Aemond''s distraction with a decisive uppercut.


    Pfft��


    The blownded perfectly, sending Aemond reeling backward. He crashed to the floor, his scarf falling away and exposing him disgracefully. Aemond gasped for breath, his face a mix of pain and humiliation before slipping into unconsciousness.


    Daeron��s eyes widened in disbelief, his jaw nearly dropping to the floor.


    "What a mess", Arryk, with an apologetic nce, quickly removed his white robe and wrapped it around Aemond, lifting him over his shoulder.


    The prince went mad and disgraced himself. He didn''t think that His Grace would me him for his actions.


    He then headed toward the exit, the soldiers respectfully stepping aside and averting their gazes.


    The soldiers, receiving only a modest pay, knew better than to interfere with royal matters.


    Left alone in the brothel, Daeron stood, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration. He nced at the old madam, then at the headless, naked corpse sprawled on the floor. With a resigned sigh, he pulled two golden dragons from his pocket and tossed them onto the ground.


    "The crown doesn��te cheap," he muttered, then turned and exited the brothel without a backward nce.


    ...


    Main Street


    Arryk watched the patrolling soldiers walk away before handing the unconscious Aemond over to Steffon. "I''ll escort the Prince. You take Aemond back to High Tide."


    "Don''t worry about it," Steffon replied, nodding gently, taking the situation in stride. The royal family was full of absurd dramas.


    The two Kingsguard parted ways, Arryk darkening his face as he escorted Daeron to the harbor. He had just finished the night shift and was called in by Cole to cover again. The frustrations of his duty overshadowed the drama of the silver-haired dancer.


    ...


    High Tide


    Rhaegar, having parted ways with Hena, quickly approached Erryk, the Kingsguard captain on duty.


    "Your Grace," Erryk said, stunned, saluting promptly.


    Rhaegar, moving with urgency, asked directly, "Where are my children?"


    Without hesitation, Erryk replied, "The three Princes didn''t returnst night. They''ve been with Lady Rhaena."


    "Who''s protecting them?" Rhaegar''s concern was palpable.


    Prophecies were not to be taken lightly. His own dream precognitions were chaotic and disorganized, often ignoring time and space, presenting him with fragmented images. In contrast, Hena''s visions were narrow but precise.


    Realizing the gravity of the situation, Erryk said, "Cole was on duty. He requested additional manpower, and my brother and Steffon were there."


    "Three Kingsguard?" Rhaegar''s frown deepened. He immediatelymanded, "Erryk, take two teams of guards and escort Baelon and the others back safely."


    This was Driftmark, Sea Snake''s territory, and he needed the best force.


    Erryk, understanding the importance, replied solemnly, "Yes, Your Grace." He quickly went to call for reinforcements.


    There were seven Kingsguards in total. Excluding the two brothers who stayed in King''s Landing to watch over the old king, five apanied the party. Arryk and Steffon covered the night shift, while Erryk and Lorent covered the day shift. Cole asionally taught Prince Aemond martial arts and temporarily protected the young Princes.


    Rhaegar shook his head, still worried. After a moment of contemtion, he decided to make an unannounced visit to see for himself.


    ...


    Hull, harbor.


    "Careful, don''t break the crate."


    "Stupid, put away your broken fishing."


    "......"


    Shipwrights sweated and cursed at every passer-by without discrimination.


    On Driftmark, being a shipwright was an unusually noble profession.


    Addam, mixed in with the apprentices, was often on the receiving end of these tirades, but he was more thanpetent. At the moment, he was repairing the deck while keeping an eye out for suspicious charactersing aboard.


    Unfamiliar faces had boarded the ship before, but never so many at once. The old shipwrights were busy, treating the neers with contempt and asionally spitting at them. Only young Addam, ever vignt, kept an eye out for anything amiss.


    Rhaena led Maekar around the cabin to the rear of therge ship. Addam stole a nce, recognising the girl by her distinctive features.


    Gradually, the suspicious neers put down their materials and began to gather in twos and threes towards the back of the ship. Addam lowered his head, his eyes narrowing.


    One man put his hand in his pants, appearing to itch himself but actually concealing a bulge. Another stuffed his hands into his blouse, as if rubbing something. These seemingly innocent actions were anything but, and Addam saw through them.


    The bulge was toorge��it had to be the hilt of a dagger or an ironwood handle. Addam silently calcted the implications.


    He thought of his brother, his tormented mother, and tucked the hammer into his arms. Naturally, he stood up, approached a buck-toothed apprentice, and whispered in his ear. The apprentice''s eyes lit up, and he left the nail-loading box behind to slip into the cabin.


    Addam looked around and then climbed up the softdder of the watchtower, his heart pounding with anticipation.


    ...


    Behind the cabin.


    Rhaenay back against the railing, watching sailors hang mid-air as they cleaned barnacles off the hull. The sight of the slimy creatures being scraped away always brought her an inexplicable satisfaction.


    Maekar crouched on the ground, bored, resting his chin in his hands. Therge carrier vessel overshadowed him entirely, making him seem even smaller.


    Several guards surrounded them, their eyes scanning the area for any threats. Cole was absent, assigned to protect Baelon, the more important heir to the throne.


    The sea breeze blew briskly, carrying the shouts of sailors. The usually noisy harbor was exceptionally quiet and calm, causing the guards to gradually lower their guard.


    Laborers carrying materials moved to the back half of the area, appearing to offer assistance to the shipwrights. The guards paid them no mind as they passed by.


    "Do it!"


    A sudden bellow shattered the calm.


    Before the guards could react, daggers shed and stabbed into their waists.


    One of the assassins, a scowl etched on his face, lunged at Rhaena by the fence, shouting, "Hail to the Harpy!"

 Chapter 521: The Provocation of Slaver’s Bay

    Chapter 521: The Provocation of ver��s Bay


    Rhaenyra took a sip of her wine and asked, ��What is your name, foreigner?��


    ��Chazar!�� the foreign merchant replied arrogantly, looking down at the people with his nostrils. ��You can also call me the wealthy Chazar, the arena manager of Meereen.��


    The arrogance in his voice grew as he spoke. Rhaenyra could smell the foreigner''s characteristic stench from afar. She covered her nose and mouth with her fingers and thoughtfully said, ��Oh,�� under his arrogant gaze, sarcastically adding, "I''ve never heard of you, so you''re nobody.��


    Chazar was instantly angry and said bluntly, ��Your Grace, Ie from thergest arena in Meereen and have been sent here by a group of Good Masters.��


    ��Well, that sounds good,�� Rhaenyra nodded slightly, pleased with herself. ��State your request, this... um, unknown guest.��


    Then she gave a sidelong nce. Johanna stood at her side, her legs crossed beneath her gauze dress, like a beautiful sculpture. Receiving the queen''s signal, Johanna stepped forward: ��Chazar from Meereen, The Queen of Lys will hear your plea.��


    The word choice was changed to directlybel the visitor as a ��beggar.��


    Chazar took a deep breath and said with a stiff neck, ��Your Grace, I am entrusted by the Good Masters to announce the rise of the Aethyrys family in ver''s Bay.��


    He paused and added with a serious expression: ��An ancient and noble family of Dragonlords, newly revived.����A bastard Dragonlord family?�� Rhaenyra dismissed it lightly, not even batting an eyelid.


    ��No!�� Chazar could not contain his anger and emphasized, ��It is an ancient Dragonlord family, one of the Dragonlords who, along with your family, is a bastion of freedom.��


    ��In fact, the Aethyrys family is even more noble than yours.�� At this, Chazar snorted: ��As everyone knows, the Targaryen name was not strong in the Freehold.��


    Upon hearing this, Rhaenyra''s narrow eyes narrowed, and her aura of self-assurance and authority radiated.


    Bang!


    A loud noise echoed from the door, causing Chazar to nearly jump out of his skin. Rhaenyra''s hand, poised tond on the table, stopped mid-air as she looked toward the door in surprise. She hadn''t even hit the table!


    The door had been kicked open, and two Kingsguard stood at attention.


    ��Wee, King Rhaegar of the Targaryens...�� began one of the Kingsguard, only to be interrupted by a wave of the hand. ��That''s enough. He doesn''t deserve to hear the rest.��


    Rhaegar entered, his face expressionless, d in a brand-new ck robe with his hands behind his back. He wore two weapons at his waist: one for Truefyre and the other for is the dragon taming whip. His tall, imposing figure exuded authority. His long, silvery-gold hair cascaded over his shoulders, and his cold, purple eyes were devoid of emotion.


    ��Gulp...��


    Chazar couldn''t help but take a step back, swallowing nervously. He had seen countless Valyrians with silver hair and purple eyes and had even met the new Dragonlord enshrined in the Great Pyramid. But none had ever made his chest pound so violently. It was as if he were looking at a true dragon of ancient and noble blood.


    Rhaegar passed Chazar and said, ��Are you stinking?��


    His words were vulgar and direct. Chazar bowed his head in silence, subconsciously arguing, ��Your Grace of the Iron Throne, your family...��


    "Stop! I don''t want to listen to you anymore and put up with the smell of dung." Rhaegar interrupted, his purple eyes cold and fierce. Turning his back on Chazar, he beckoned to Ser Steffon and said, ��When you send off the visitorter, keep his tongue as a souvenir.��


    ��Yes, Your Grace!�� Steffon responded, looking serious and unwavering as he drew his sword.


    Chazar was stunned, looking at the two in disbelief. They were so savage.


    Rhaegar ignored him and walked straight to his seat at the conference table. Having just burned the entire fleet of ver''s Bay, he was pondering how to eliminate the new Dragonlord, retrieve the young dragon, and secure the treasure.


    As he walked past, Rhaenyra''s eyes never left him, a hint of resentment mixed with joy. She hadn''t heard from him in half a month, not even a letter. She had been worried sick.


    Rhaegar sat down, poured himself a ss of wine, and rxed. ��Don''t worry about me. You guys go ahead.��


    Lys was under Rhaenyra''s rule, and he would never presume to take over her role. Besides, he was curious to hear what kind of nonsense the messenger from ver''s Bay had to say.


    Rhaenyra gave him a sideways nce, adjusted her queenlyposure, and said with a slight smile, ��Chazar, you mentioned a Dragonlord''s name. Are you just trying to get attention?��


    ��Of course not.�� Chazar wiped the cold sweat from his brow and forced himself to remainposed. ��The Great Pyramid voted that the House Targaryen should be informed of the rise of the new Dragonlord family.��


    ��Hmm?�� Rhaenyra rested her hand on the table, looking ready to listen. She found that the other party was indeed interesting.


    Chazar continued, his heart pounding, ��As fellow Dragonlords, with bloodlines from the ancient Freehold, I believe your family will recognize the legitimacy of the Aethyrys family.��


    ��Puff, haha...�� Rhaegarughed, as if he had heard the funniest joke.


    Rhaenyra''s face darkened, feeling her dignity challenged. She sneered, ��Since when have there been dragons in ver''s Bay?��


    ��No, no, no. There are no dragons in ver''s Bay for the time being.�� Chazar let himself gopletely and tried to prove, ��But there is a young dragon in the Smoking Sea, and I believe it will live in the pyramid in Meereen one day.��


    ��What if I don��t agree?�� Rhaenyra��s eyes were cold, and she yed with the diamond ring on her finger, resisting the urge to p him.


    Chazar raised his chin and said haughtily, ��Shouls your houses agree that Westeros and ver��s Bay will be the closest allies. If not, ver��s Bay will cut off trade with Westeros and maintain a rigid non-interaction with each other.��


    Rhaenyra sneered, ��The Targaryens control half of the resources of the Narrow Sea. Do you think we care?��


    Chazar was unconvinced. ��I''ll tell you what. Before I set off, the ships of ver''s Bay had already blockaded the Smoking Sea, and the rise of the new Dragonlord House is unstoppable.��


    Crackling sound...


    Rhaegar pped his hands in delight and said with a smile, ��Then I might as well tell you that before I returned with my dragon, the fleet that had blockaded the Smoking Sea was all burned and fed to the fish.��


    ��What!?�� Chazar was shocked and nearly fainted.


    Rhaegar looked at Rhaenyra and said helplessly, ��I didn''t mean to interrupt, but I couldn''t help it.�� A clown who doesn''t apud is rude.


    ��Do as you please.�� Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, thinking that she was being overbearing. Ignoring the yelling Chazar, Rhaenyra waved her hand. ��Take him away. ording to the king''s order, keep the envoy''s tongue and send him back to ver''s Bay.��


    It would be a waste of time to get angry with someone so mentally deficient.


    Johanna did as she was told and called in the guards.


    ��No!�� Chazar screamed and threatened, ��Do you know what will happen if you destroy the fleet in ver''s Bay?��


    Rhaegar, who was eating a red grape, looked at Rhaenyra as if to ask what the consequences would be.


    Chazar then shouted, ��ver''s Bay is thergest ve market in the world. The power it hides is beyond your imagination!��


    ��Guards, take him away!�� Rhaegar couldn''t stand it anymore and called out for the guards.


    ��Kill him. He''s too annoying.��


    But just as the Kingsguard entered the meeting hall, Chazar suddenly sprang up.


    He thrust his hand into his bosom and shouted, ��Long live the Harpy!��


    In the blink of an eye, a ck shadow flew past, hitting him squarely on the wrist.


    Bang! A crisp crack of bone, and his wrist snapped.


    Then, a ss wine cup shattered, spilling countless fragments.


    ��Ah!�� Chazar screamed in pain and dropped the object in his hand.


    It was a golden mask of the Harpy.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were as sharp as an eagle''s, and he maintained the throwing motion of the wine cup.


    Chazar then clenched his teeth, making a crunching sound.


    Within seconds, his olive-colored face turned pale, and a mouthful of ck blood spilled out of the corner of his mouth.


    Plop. His body fell backwards, dead on the spot.


    Steffon hurriedly went forward and tested his mouth and nose: ��Your Grace, he''s dead.��


    Rhaegar was stunned. He had never expected the other man tomit suicide by poison.


    Rhaenyra widened her eyes, lowered her long, white legs, and carefully covered them with her skirt.


    She thought of a profession �C a suicide soldier.


    Johanna quickly reacted, hurried out of the hall, and soon returned.


    Her face was very subtle, and she panted, ��Your Grace, he is the head of the Meereen arena. He gambled away arge sum of money and was sacrificed by the Good Masters.��


    In other words, he was here to die.


    Rhaegar''s mouth twitched as he smiled: ��Dering war on the Targaryens by dying?��


    He was curious to know what kind of trump card ver''s Bay had up its sleeve.


    How dare they be so arrogant.


    He turned his head and looked at Johanna: ��When will Lord Corlys'' fleet, as well as the fleets of House Celtigar and House Redwyne, cross the Narrow Sea?��


    They dared to challenge the authority of the Iron Throne, and he could not tolerate it for even a moment.


    Johanna raised her peach-colored eyes and replied, ��It will be at least a month. The sea is unpredictable.��


    ��Fine, then a month!�� Rhaegar angrily got up and ordered, ��Take the body out and feed it to the dragons!��


    After saying that, he walked out the door.


    The appearance of a new Dragonlord family had seriously irritated him.


    The people of ver''s Bay hade to provoke him, and that had really touched his bottom line.


    Once the army is assembled, he will make sure that the Good Masters who sell ves are all bled to death.


    Behind him, Rhaenyra watched his angry back, and a hint of worry shed in her eyes.


    She was afraid that Rhaegar would be extreme. Many members of the Targaryen family had this problem.


    ...


    Night falls.


    Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed as he leaned back in the tub, feeling the heat of the boiling water envelop him.


    Knock, knock!


    ��Who is it?��


    ��It��s me, Rhaegar.�� Rhaenyra��s voice came from the door, which she gently pushed open.


    Rhaegar opened his eyes at the sound, looking at her with a mix of suspicion and slight hostility.


    ��I��vee to see you.�� Rhaenyra was still wearing the beautiful dress from earlier that day. She walked slowly to the bathtub and sat down on a stool beside it.


    Ssh...


    Her bare hands reached into the boiling water, gently stroking Rhaegar��s tense shoulders and neck.


    She leaned forward, lifting her hair. Her chin rested on Rhaegar��s shoulder, their cheeks close together, their breathing synchronized.


    The sudden tenderness caught Rhaegar off guard. He coughed lightly, saying, ��I��m fine. There��s no need for this.��


    ��Baelon and the others are furious. Maekar fed that corpse to Tyraxes.��


    With the sound of sshing water, Rhaenyra leaned over Rhaegar��s back, her hands reaching out to grab his chest, muttering, ��Ba is a hot-tempered woman. She even challenged to burn down ver��s Bay.��


    ��Hmm!��


    Rhaegar took a deep breath and leaned back, his body softening. ��They��re all good kids, aren��t they?��


    Having many children is also one of his strengths.


    The children are all very smart, and their personalities are developing in a good direction, which makes him feel even more at ease.


    ��Mmm!��


    Rhaegar��s lower abdomen tightened, and he leaned sideways into Rhaenyra��s neck, letting his guard down a little too much.


    Rhaenyra rubbed her cheek against his and kept her hands busy, asking softly, ��A new Dragonlord family is not a good sign, but don��t put too much pressure on yourself.��


    The surging tide of magic brings countless possibilities.


    Who knows if a dragon will fly out of some alley and into the arms of some bastard Dragonlord.


    ��Be gentle, don��t pinch.�� Rhaegar shook his head and breathed lightly: ��I will conquer Vntis, find the young dragons of the Smoking Sea, and burn down ver��s Bay.��


    ��Good boy.�� Rhaenyra��s eyes softened, and she pulled him into her arms, unbuttoning his shirt.


    ��No, not here.��


    ��Thene out.��


    They pushed and shoved, falling into the soft bed.


    Rhaenyra��s lips curved up, and like a valiant knightess, she pinned Rhaegar down.


    ��I have to go to the Vale tomorrow.��


    At this critical moment, Rhaegar suddenly spoke up.


    Rhaenyra froze, her eyebrows furrowing. ��This is a very bad time to say this.��


    ��I��ve just noticed that too.�� Rhaegar tilted his head and gave a wry smile.


    He had go to the Vale, discuss the handling of the opposition there, and take a look at his two daughters.


    Rhaenyra remained silent for a long moment.


    Outside, clouds obscured the moonlight, causing the room to gradually darken.


    Gritting her teeth, Rhaenyra finally spoke, her voice strained, ��Rhaegar, I''m... sorry for what I did to that child.��


    The hidden conflict between the siblings had simmered for too long. Day after day, year after year, they had clung to their resentment, mistaking it for satisfaction and revenge. But as time passed and the girl grew up, news of her loneliness reached Rhaenyra��s ears. She saw her own children, lively and cheerful, and her heart softened with guilt.


    Tonight, she thought, why not try to mend things?


    Rhaegar''s eyes were vacant as he held Rhaenyra by the waist, moving back to rest his head on the pillow. He wasn��t the one who had been hurt, and he had nothing left to say. He could only me himself.


    ��I''ll take the child back to King''s Landing,�� he said quietly, ��and give her the name she deserves.��


    Rhaenyra bit her lower lip before speaking again. ��Baelon sent his dragon egg to the Vale, thinking I wouldn''t find out.��


    It was Joanna who discovered Baelon''s dragon egg was missing. A child trying to mend rtionships between parents and siblings, and Rhaenyra didn''t want to disappoint her eldest son��s good intentions. At least, it was a start.


    Plop!


    Rhaegar suddenly rolled over, gazing at her with deep affection. ��You will always be my beloved, Rhaenyra.��


    "I don''t like to be called that way," she replied with a smile, rolling him back down and leaning over him. ��What should you call me?��


    Rhaegar was stunned, then whispered, "Sister."

 Chapter 522: The Backstabbing from Helaena

    Chapter 522: The Backstabbing from Hena


    The next day.


    Topless Tower, the Silent Hall.


    Dragonstone��s walls, adorned with frescoes depicting various gods, enclosed the dimly lit hall. A dozen towering stone pirs pierced through the two floors, their hollowed surfaces holding books and vessels. In the center of the hall stood an arc-shaped altar.


    Hena sat sideways in front of the flickering candlelight, her long pale blue silk dress draping over her calves. She softly sang an ancient Valyrian nursery rhyme.


    This peaceful scene greeted Rhaegar as he entered the hall. He listened carefully to her delicate voice, filled with soothing gentleness.


    ��A Warm Winter in Valyria, a song in praise of winter", a bald Red Priest stepped out from the shadows, adding in a smooth, oily tone.


    Rhaegar looked straight ahead, replying calmly, ��The song��s origin is that the wife of a Valyrian nomad gave birth during the winter.��


    The Red Priest smiled sweetly, the small characters tattooed on his face seeming to dance. ��What happened?��


    ��The baby was born,�� Rhaegar said, his eyes shing with memories. ��The heavy snow did not stop the birth, nor did it stop the mother. Even the sheep in the pen survived.����The story, like the song, ends warmly. Otherwise, it wouldn��t be called ��A Warm Winter.����


    ��It��s a heartwarming song,�� the Red Priest replied, smiling. ��No wonder it��s a famous nursery rhyme from ancient Valyria, perfect for lulling children to sleep.��


    Rhaegar��s eyes widened, but when he nced back, he saw Hena turning her head, looking confused. She blinked, then continued to hum the unfinished nursery rhyme.


    Rhaegar, with his discerning eyes, chose not to interrupt and instead continued speaking to the Red Priest. "Varys, what''s thetest news from ver''s Bay?"


    A new Dragonlord has appeared, defying the Targaryen''s authority. ver''s Bay will have to pay the price.


    Varys replied, a knowing look on his face. "Your Grace, the false Dragonlord ims to be a legitimate descendant of the Freehold." Reaching into his sleeve, he pulled out a note, his expression humble.


    His voice tinged with regret as he handed over the note, a slight smile curving his lips. "The High Septon reports that, under the name of this false Dragonlord, ver''s Bay has recruited sorcerers from Asshai and is spreading dragon seed by taking numerous concubines and wives."


    Rhaegar took the note and nced at Varys. "You seem very pleased."


    "Nothing escapes your discerning eyes," Varys replied with a shy smile. "You know me. Anything rted to precious books and magic is my lifeblood."


    He was confident that he was not inferior to others when it came to magic.


    Rhaegar frowned. "Have you lost your most precious possession?"


    Varys, an uncircumcised priest known for feigning disability, showed a hint of resentment and muttered, "Your Grace, what are you thinking?"


    "If you keep talking to me like that, your thoughts mighte true." Rhaegar gave him a sideways nce, clenching his fingers around the note. Varys shut up and slunk away.


    Working for the royal family had its benefits��it was not only safe but also provided faster ess to rare books than working alone. Seeing Varys retreat, Rhaegar opened the note to read it.


    There was nothing of great importance, just trivialities. The new Dragonlord had taken wives and concubines, and his sisters had married the Good Masters, causing the family to grow rapidly.


    After reading, Rhaegar believed part of the new Dragonlord''s im of being a descendant of the Aethyrys family, as they were known for their fertility.


    "Ha, a bunch of insignificant people," Rhaegar scoffed, his gaze lingering on the wizard of Asshai for a few moments. "Asshai..." he murmured, raising his eyebrows slightly.


    A strange and absurd relic of the world, Asshai was said to be full of magical researchers such as Shadowbinders and alchemists. Sea Snake Corlys had once reached Asshai during his nine voyages. ording to the tales, the local customs were perilous. Corlys himself had remarked that he would rather journey to the far north again than touch the cursednd of Asshai.


    With a pop, a ball of me appeared, and the note burned in Rhaegar''s hand. Narrowing his eyes, he muttered, ��The magic tides are growing more turbulent, and all kinds of monsters are beginning to show their faces.��


    Particrly, the magic tide had fluctuated once on the way back from the Smoking Sea to the Disputed Lands. It must have signaled something.


    Creak. The door opened with a loud groan.


    Johanna approached, her ck hair cascading down and her body swaying. Rhaegar nced at her.


    Joanna bowed and reported, ��We have news from Tyrosh that Daemon has sent out invitations to his wedding to Lady May. He can''t wait to get married.��


    Rhaegar smiled and asked, ��What are Sea Snake and Laena''s attitudes?��


    ��The news from Driftmark hasn''te back yet,�� Johanna replied truthfully. ��Lady Laena has locked herself in her room, not eating, not sleeping, and not talking to anyone.��


    After a moment��s thought, she added, ��Lady Ba broke into the Dragonpit and tried to ride Moondancer, but the Dragonkeepers stopped her.��


    ��As expected,�� Rhaegar nodded. Ba''s character was indeed like her father''s, full of courage and boldness. She was even more daring than his three sonsbined. ��It''s a pity that Rhaenyra didn��t give me a child who could be called brave,�� he thought to himself, dissatisfied.


    His grandfather was known as ��Brave Baelon.�� His eldest son, who bore his grandfather��s name, was reserved and always acted with dignity. The second and youngest sons... one was a mischievous rascal, the other a sullen loner. Each of his three sons had inherited a part of his personality, but none of them were exactly like him.


    Having received the information he wanted, Rhaegar waved his hand, indicating that Johanna should leave. Varys, however, did not depart. When the Topless Tower was first built, the Silent Hall had been his domain.


    ��Brother, are you leaving?��


    The nursery rhyme came to an abrupt end as Hena slowly stood up, her big eyes filled with confusion.


    ��Yes, I came to say goodbye,�� Rhaegar replied with a smile. ��Why are you here?��


    Hena, usually introverted and rarely seen singing alone, shook her head and crossed her arms in front of her stomach. ��I just came here,�� she said softly.


    Being alone helped her find peace of mind, otherwise, the images in her head would always disturb her.


    Rhaegar understood. A special talent oftenes with its own burdens. He had been tormented by nightmares as a child, though as an adult, his dreams had be less frequent, appearing only as critical premonitions.


    Hena tilted her head, her long curls falling over her chest. ��This trip will go well. I��m very relieved.��


    ��Of course,�� Rhaegar chuckled.


    Hena��s eyes shed slyly as she pouted. ��Keep an eye on Aemond. He��s up to no good.��


    ��Aemond?�� Rhaegar hesitated. The boy couldn��t cause much trouble in the Stornds. Could he be nning to break off his engagement? ��Anyway, keep an eye on him,�� Hena insisted, sounding like an older sisterining to a parent.


    Rhaegar was momentarily at a loss for words but promised, ��Okay, I��ll deal with him when I see him.��


    He hadn��t heard from Aemond for more than half a month, so he probably deserved a scolding. He might not even be at home.


    ...


    At noon, the sun hung high in the sky.


    A ck dragon, as massive as a small mountain, soared into the air, its vast wings eclipsing the sun as it slowly flew over Lys. The townsfolk below nced upward and quickened their pace to get away.


    Even after many years, the reputation of the Deathwing remained terrifying.


    ...


    Meanwhile, at Driftmark, high tide...


    A muddy dragon with a pitted and ugly appearance flew over the tide andnded heavily in front of the castle. As soon as Sheepstealernded, he swung his long, thick tail. With a loud crack, the gallows holding a mummified corpse snapped.


    The dragon''s wings supported its weight as its ws and hooks gripped the ground. The crows, disturbed from their feast, screamed and scattered as the mummy was crushed into a pile of rubble.


    "Behave yourself, Sheepstealer!" Aemond shouted, offering a symbolic scolding as he leapt from the dragon''s back.


    "Roar!" Sheepstealer hissed and waddled to a corner of the courtyard,pletely ignoring his rider.


    Aemond, long ustomed to the dragon''s peculiarities, remained expressionless. He strode into the castle, watched by the guards who hade to meet him.


    ...


    Hall of Nine,


    Aemond entered with a clear goal in mind, leaving his escort behind.


    Rhaenys had been waiting in the hall, alerted by the dragon''s roar. She was surprised to see her nephew but weed him warmly. ��Aemond, did youe alone?��


    Over the years, House Targaryen and House Vryon had reconciled, and she often met with her nephews and nieces. Rhaegar had be king and treated her with respect. Daeron, engaged to her granddaughter Rhaena, served as a cupbearerat High Tide. Aegon, though dissolute and foolish, was sensible. Aemond was exceptionally aplished.


    As a second son, Aemond excelled in poetry, history, and swordy. He managed affairs in King''s Landing and inspected the Stornds and Dornish Marches, earning respect throughout the Seven Kingdoms.


    When his aunt asked him a question, Aemond didn''t answer directly. Instead, he inquired, "Are Lord Corlys and Daeron not here?" He looked around with one eye as if searching for them.


    "Daeron is delivering orders for Corlys. You may have to wait a while to see him," Rhaenys replied, frowning slightly. "Did Rhaegar send you? What are your orders?"


    "No," Aemond replied, confirming that no one else was present. "I came for myself, and..."


    Under Rhaenys'' watchful gaze, he stepped onto the dais and approached the driftwood throne. His eye flickered with uncertainty as he ced his hand on the cold, watery driftwood. ��Something that will help people progress,�� he said cautiously.


    Rhaenys frowned deeper, watching her nephew touch the driftwood throne in an impolite manner. She felt the urge to scold him.


    Suddenly, a deep voice spoke up.


    ��Tell me, I��m really curious.��


    Rhaenys and Aemond turned their heads to see the Sea Snake, Corlys Vryon, standing at the side door of the hall. Despite his injuries, he had discarded his crutches and walked steadily toward them, his dark face full of interest.


    Aemond blinked and smiled seductively. ��I guess you��ll listen to reason.��


    Without wasting any time, Corlys walked up the steps and sat on the king''s throne, asserting his authority as the head of the house. Aemond descended the steps and took a seat in a nearby chair.


    Rhaenys, ignoring the underlying tension between the two men, said helplessly, ��Corlys, the Maester said you should be resting.��


    Corlys waved her concern away. ��My body knows its limits. The Maester is just being overly cautious.��


    A seasoned sailor like Corlys had his own way of judging his health. Despite this, Rhaenys couldn��t help but worry.


    ��Lord Corlys, what do you think of the war in the Smoking Sea?�� Aemond asked, steering the conversation towards the pressing matter.


    Corlys�� expression turned serious. ��There are dragons in the Smoking Sea, so war is inevitable. The key is calcting the cost.��


    ��Vntis is the front line of the war,�� Aemond noted, his lips curling slightly. ��My brother won��t let it slip from his grasp.��


    ��If we take thatnd, how will it be divided?�� Aemond��s eyes sparkled with anticipation.


    Corlys�� expression changed slightly. ��That decision lies with the king. It may be incorporated into the Crownds.��


    ��What if we take it first?�� Aemond pressed. ��Vntis is beyond the Disputed Lands. The Free Cities are overcrowded andck quality resources, making them difficult for the royal family to manage.��


    ��What are you suggesting?�� Corlys frowned, though he likely already guessed Aemond��s intent.


    Among the nine Free Cities, some struggled in trade, like Lorath, which had no port, and Qohor, located in the ind Forest of Qohor. Vntis, known as ��the daughter of Valyria,�� had once been prosperous. However, after the failed invasion during the Age of Bloodshed, its economy had plummeted. The city was now filthy, and its springs were drying up��clear signs of decline.


    If Vntis hadn''t been included in the trade route to the Disputed Lands after the Narrow Sea War, its economy would have continued to decline year after year.


    Aemond spoke openly of his ambitions. "Vntis is not a suitable domain for my brother. Perhaps he should give it to me and let me rule it for him."


    The Sea Snake remained silent for a moment before asking, ��What does House Vryon get out of this?��


    Aemond replied, ��I will follow the Topless Tower system in Lys. Vryon can appoint a councilor, and the port will exempt House Vryon from fees.��


    ��This...�� The Sea Snake was visibly moved, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.


    Aemond continued, ��You provide the troops, I provide the dragons, and together we will conquer Vntis, relieving the army of the burden of war. My brother might be so pleased that he would grant me Vntis.��


    After weighing the pros and cons, the Sea Snake shook his head. ��No, the division of the Crownds is no joke. House Vryon only follows the orders of the king.��


    Without thatst sentence, he might have considered it. However, asking House Vryon to bear the brunt of the attack was too risky. Aemond''s proposal, while enticing, was riddled with potential pitfalls. If the Sea Snake helped him, he might lose everything.


    Despite the rejection, Aemond remained calm. ��I think House Vryon needs an ally, a reliable ally.��


    Learning from his uncle Daemon��s example, Aemond coveted the territory of a Free City. Stonehelm was a good ce, but it was remote with pitiful ie. In contrast, Aegon, who ruled over the Stepstones, had minimal responsibilities and reaped a fortune several times greater than his own.


    Hearing this, the Sea Snake''s already dark face grew even darker. Thest ally had been Daemon, who had betrayed his daughter.

 Chapter 523: A Maiden Is No Match for a Widow

    Chapter 523: A Maiden Is No Match for a Widow


    The mention of the word "ally" made the wound in Corlys'' back ache.


    Sea Snake, in no mood for pleasantries, replied politely, ��Your proposal is not perfect. I don''t need to take any risks.��


    He had allied with Daemon to conquer Tyrosh, only for Daemon to turn around and upy the Free Cities himself. A few yearster, even House Vryon''s future heir was disinherited from their bloodline.


    Rhaegar on the Iron Throne was no different. The War for the Stepstones, the War of the Narrow Sea, the War of Conquest in Dorne��each conflict shed Vryon blood. In the end, the royal family grew stronger, while Vryon found little peace.


    The past was a warning to the future. The Sea Snake didn��t want to be a gambler at his age.


    ��Lord Corlys, don��t make a rash decision,�� Aemond said, his expression unchanged and unembarrassed.


    Sea Snake frowned slightly, wondering what Aemond was up to. Ever since he entered the room, Aemond had exuded an aura of determination, giving the impression of being in control.


    ng!


    Aemond reached back and drew an axe, smashing it onto the floor. Suddenly, the guard at the door rushed in, sword drawn in a defensive stance.��Get out!�� Sea Snakemanded sternly, ��This is a Prince of the Targaryens, do you understand?��


    Rhaenys rolled her eyes at this. The guards, confused, looked at each other before withdrawing.


    Only then did Corlys lean forward to examine the short-handled axe lying on the floor.


    ��Huh?��


    At first nce, the Sea Snake��s sharp eyes immediately spotted the clues.


    The axe was about three feet long, resembling a standard lumberjack''s tool. It was designed for chopping and splitting, durable enough to handle both wood and enemies.


    Examining it closely, his expression turned odd. ��Celtigar''s axe.��


    ��Yes, a gift from Lord Celtigar,�� Aemond confirmed, picking up the axe. He gazed at it with one eye, saying with emotion, ��A divine weapon, hung on the wall as a decoration, gathering dust.��


    The axe was silver-gray, with clear ripples on the surface, like an exquisite piece of art.


    Rhaenys�� face changed instantly. ��Celtigar��s Axe? That��s a Valyrian steel axe!��


    Valyrian steel weapons were rare treasures. Apart from Rhaegar, who possessed one hand and one in the other, many ancient houses, including House Vryon, had none to pass on to their descendants.


    Sea Snake was even more shocked than his wife. The three ancient houses that had fled to Westeros from ancient Valyria were all too familiar with each other.


    Members of House Targaryen were known for their dual nature: if not mad, then great. House Vryon was loyal and dependable, with a fearless fighting spirit. But House Celtigar was different. Many of its men had shrewd minds, adept at weighing pros and cons and making hard decisions.


    When Aenar, the exile, moved to the continent of Westeros, the Lord of Celtigar made the boldest choice, selling off the family estate to follow him. However, a family good at calcting was not popr, which is why the Targaryens married into the Vryon family for generations but rarely chose a Celtigar partner.


    Looking at the Valyrian steel weapon he had always coveted, the Sea Snake took a long time to recover. ��What kind of conditions did you offer to get this axe into your hands?��


    Aemond smiled. ��A proposalparable to the one I made to House Vryon''s, plus a marriage to win them over.��


    ��What!�� Rhaenys quickly approached, unable to believe it. ��You broke your engagement to Cassandra Baratheon and married a daughter of House Celtigar instead?��


    ��This is not a wise choice,�� the Sea Snake said, taking a deep breath. ��As the Lady of Storm''s End, Cassandra has the power to call the entire Stornds to her side. Giving up that marriage for an uncertain Vntis makes you look like a conceited fool.��


    Aemond remained unperturbed. ��Sometimes, the greatest rewards require the greatest risks.��


    "You''re wrong, Aunt."


    Aemond looked at the agitated Rhaenys and exined with a smile, ��It��s undeniable that I have no interest in your foolish niece. But I will still honor the marriage contract.��


    Rhaenys waspletely bbergasted.


    Aemond turned his head and continued, ��I will marry Cassandra as promised and secure the allegiance of the Stornds nobles.��


    He wouldn''t dare break the engagement; Rhaegar would break his legs if he did.


    ��To be honest, I��m probably too old to understand thenguage of young people,�� Rhaenys said, looking confused as she retreated to her husband''s side. Her nephew��s few words had almost left her speechless.


    Sea Snake was different. His eyes were sharp, fixed on Aemond.


    Aemond shrugged. ��If I get Vntis, I can marry another wife.��


    ��Boy, Daemon is not a good example!�� Sea Snake��s face darkened, his tone full of warning. Daemon��s actions had be a thorn in his side.


    Aemond remained unfazed. ��Through friendly conversation, I gained the support of House Celtigar, and with the influence of House Baratheon, we have enough to fight a good battle.��


    Sea Snake scoffed, "I don''t think Bartimos and his son are that stupid."


    "The truth is, they agreed." Aemond looked him in the eye and turned his axe as if to prove it.


    He had indeed tried to tter House Celtigar, but it hadn''t worked, so he had resorted to a little fire-breathing trick with Sheepstealer. The Celtigars reluctantly agreed and gave up his family axe, the Crab w.


    The Sea Snake said nothing more, thinking that the one-eyed boy might have used a series of threats and enticements against House Celtigar. The cunning old crab Bartimos might have really been tempted by greed.


    ��So, what��s your decision?�� Aemond��s eyes burned with anticipation as he awaited the Sea Snake''s response.


    ��Impossible!�� The Sea Snake snorted, his voice sharp. ��Targaryen men are not trustworthy.��


    Aemond was taken aback, not expecting the old Sea Snake, who was usually so ambitious, to reject him so decisively. After a moment''s thought, he changed the subject, still hoping to win him over. ��I received an invitation to Daemon''s wedding.��


    ��So what?�� The Sea Snake, clearly angered, didn��t want to discuss it.


    Aemond��s eyes flickered as he said slowly, ��To be honest, White Worm is just a whore, not worthy of marrying into the royal family.��


    ��Just say what you want to say,�� the Sea Snake replied impatiently.


    ��Let��s make an alliance. I��ll help you out,�� Aemond proposed, his eyes shing with a murderous gleam. ��As long as White Worm is dead, all difficulties will be resolved.��


    A whore, dead or alive. Who would know if he did it?


    Upon hearing this, the expressions of Sea Snake and Rhaenys changed dramatically.


    ��Nonsense! What do you take me for?�� The Sea Snake felt insulted and ordered Aemond to leave. ��One-eyed! If you don��t have the king��s order, you can leave.��


    Why would he need a young man to assassinate White Worm? He was the lord of the tides, his veins filled with noble salt blood. Aemond��s proposal was simply not taken seriously, as if he were a dog that any Targaryen could summon and dismiss at will.


    When the rage had passed, the temperature in the hall seemed to drop to freezing. Aemond stared at the Sea Snake for a long moment before standing up silently. Without a word, he turned and strode away.


    The Sea Snake, realizing he might have been too emotional, tried to offer an olive branch. ��Your dragon can eat and drink to his heart��s content before flying. The guards will feed him enough cattle and sheep.��


    ��No need, my lord,�� Aemond��s voice was t and cold. He continued out the door with his axe, not looking back.


    ...


    In the Hallway.


    Aemond��s face was ashen as he quickened his pace. His n was on the brink of copse, thwarted by the Sea Snake''s harsh rebuke. If Corlys Vryon refused to ally with him, Aemond decided he wouldn��t bother being polite anymore. He had promised House Celtigar a marriage, so he might as well support Daemon''s union with White Worm to pave the way for his future.


    ��Prince, please wait.��


    A maid''s voice called from behind. Aemond pretended not to hear and rounded a corner quickly. The maid, in a hurry, caught up with him, saying, ��Princess Rhaenys asked me to tell you that it��s gettingte, and you can stay at the castle for the night.��


    Sea Snake had driven Aemond away on impulse, but Rhaenys, understanding her nephew had no ill will and was merely trying to forge an alliance, spoke to her husband to smooth things over.


    Aemond scoffed. ��A prince��s heart cannot be won over with a meal and a night��s stay.��


    He viewed his aunt''s offer as insincere; Driftmark, after all, was not Targaryen territory. Without further words, he turned a corner.


    As he did, he collided with a soft, delicate body.


    ��Ah!��


    The woman let out a small cry and hurriedly backed away. Before Aemond could see her face, she quickly held up her skirt and retreated. ncing back, he saw a small, delicate figure with long, silver-blonde hair in braids and a pale yellow dress with a sash. Her partially revealed face showed milk-white skin with a few freckles.


    Aemond was momentarily distracted, almost mistaking her for his sister Hena. Once she had disappeared, he grabbed the maid��s hand and asked, ��Who is she?��


    The Sea Snake didn��t seem to have any unmarried niece.


    The maid, trembling, replied honestly, ��It��s Lady Celine.��


    ��Celine...�� Aemond muttered, his eyes shing with a strange light. ��Laenor��s widow, the previous Lord Celtigar��s daughter.��


    He remembered her. Laenor had attended a dinner party with his new wife many years ago��a not-so-beautiful wife, probably now in her twenties.


    ��Prince, may I leave now?�� the maid asked, terrified, with tears in her eyes.


    Aemondughed, disinterested in her. ��No hurry. First, show me to a guest room. I can��t let my aunt down.��


    ��Huh?�� The maid was stunned.


    ��Find me a guest room. Don��t you understand?�� Aemond, somewhat moody, shook off the clumsy maid and walked away. ��Don��t worry about me. I��ll just wander around the castle.��


    ...


    The Vale, The Eyrie


    The Eyrie��s seven slender white towers of varying heights created an imposing silhouette against the sky.


    "Roar!"


    A jet-ck dragon soared at high speed, leaping over the towering Giant��s Lance and circling The Eyrie. Its massive body descended, vanishing into the surging sea of clouds.


    The dragon��s wings, spread wide like scythes, sliced through the turbulent waters of Alyssa��s Tears.


    ...


    The Maiden''s Tower


    Plop!


    A small door flew open as if a wild boar had broken it down.


    A series of magpie-like giggles followed, and a little girl with a bright smile ran out. She had short, brown hair, big dark eyes, and skin that glowed white in the sun.


    ��Jessamyn, don��t chase me!�� she cried, her short legs pumping beneath an orange skirt.


    Fiery-haired Jessamyn chased after her, threatening, ��Stop, or I��ll spank your little bottom.��


    ��No! No!�� the little girl protested, trotting along and slipping into the lush backyard with ease.


    Bang!


    She bumped into a pir, her small nose turning red. ��Ouch~~�� she cried out in pain, backing up and muttering, ��It hurts, my nose is crooked.��


    ��Really?�� A gentle voice sounded, and a tall figure blocked the sunlight overhead.


    The little girl froze and looked up in surprise. She saw a handsome older brother with long silver-blonde hair and a beautiful appearance. His eyes were smiling, and he looked at her tenderly.


    Lyanna tilted her head and clenched her small hands into fists, pretending to be a little lord. ��Hello!�� she greeted, thinking, ��Silver hair and purple eyes, he looks just like my sister.��


    Rhaegar leaned down and smiled. ��Hello, little one.��


    ��Mm,�� the little girl nodded but didn��t say anything, her big eyes rolling around as if thinking about what to say next.


    ��Little one, do you remember who I am?�� Rhaegar asked, delighted, itching to touch the little girl��s furry head.


    The little girl, only up to his knees and no more than three or four years old, looked up at him with a confused, adorable expression.


    ��No!��


    The little girl looked up at Rhaegar and asked, ��Do you remember who I am?��


    ��Of course,�� Rhaegar replied, unable to hold back any longer. He scooped the little girl into his arms and said with a smile, ��You��re Lyanna, Lyanna Targaryen.��


    Lyanna��s eyes widened in surprise. ��You know me?��


    Though she felt a faint familiarity, the warmth and coziness of being in his arms reassured her. She looked around, then leaned her head close to Rhaegar��s ear and whispered, ��Then who are you?��


    Rhaegar smiled, feeling her breath on his ear. His heart warmed and he felt a twinge of sadness. Thest time he had set foot in the Eyrie was for Lyanna��s second name day. Children have short memories, and it had been so long that she didn��t recognize him.


    Holding Lyanna��s small bottom, Rhaegar carried her toward the main tower. ��You��ll know when we meet your mother,�� he said.


    ��Oh,�� Lyanna responded quietly, allowing herself to be held.


    She looked at the passing flowers and nts, a look of intimacy shing in her big eyes. Tentatively, she slowly rested her head on Rhaegar��s chest.


    ��Huh?�� Seeing that Rhaegar didn��t react, Lyanna��s eyes sparkled and she happily nestled closer.


    She was like a little sun, warming people��s hearts with her bright smile. Rhaegar, feeling exceptionally cheerful, couldn��t help but reach out and rub her furry head.


    ��Humph!�� Lyanna pretended to be modest, like a spoiled kitten, raising her hand to rub her head a few times.


    Rhaegar looked at her again and again, his heart filled with joy.


    ...


    Main Tower, Lobby


    As Rhaegar entered, he nearly collided with a hurried-looking Jessamyn.


    ��Jessamyn, what are you doing?�� Lyanna poked her head out and asked softly.


    Jessamyn was taken aback but quickly recovered. ��Your Grace, Lady Jeyne is in the hall.��


    ��What do you want?�� Rhaegar asked, noticing her flustered demeanor.


    ��Nothing, I was just looking for the Princess,�� Jessamyn replied smoothly, ncing at Lyanna.


    ��Hmph!�� Lyanna snorted, then turned around and hugged Rhaegar��s neck, ignoring her strict foster mother. Jessamyn was always controlling her, and Lyanna resented it.


    ��Try to control your temper,�� Rhaegar said, amused. He enjoyed the opportunity and continued walking with Jessamyn.


    Main Hall


    Jeyne sat in the main seat, her elbows propped on the armrests. Her long chestnut hair hung down to her chest, and her expression was indescribablyplex.


    Her femalepanion, Skr, stood nearby, holding an incubator from which white smoke billowed. Inside was a bronze-colored dragon egg.

 Chapter 524: There’s a Dragon in the Distance!

    Chapter 524: There��s a Dragon in the Distance!


    Main Hall, The Eyrie


    ��A dragon egg from King��s Landing?��


    Jeyne didn��t show any emotion, but it was clear she was troubled. Skr, standing beside her, remained calm. ��This dragon egg originally belonged to heir prince Baelon, but it was given to Dany.��


    "The Vale epts no charity." Jeyne''s eyes softened slightly as she firmly rejected the gift. Rhaenyra undermined her position and stripped her daughter of her family name. No results, no eptance of generosity.


    ��Do you want to send it back?�� Skr asked, regret evident in her voice. Her brother, the current Master of Whisperers, Tormund, had men just outside the Bloody Gate.


    Jeyne did not hesitate. ��Send it back.��


    ��No! Don��t!�� A young, anxious voice interrupted, sounding like a small puppy guarding its food.


    Jeyne frowned at the sound. With a steady pace, two figures appeared, onerge and one small. Lyanna wrapped her arms around Rhaegar��s neck and thrust her upper body forward. ��The dragon egg is mine! Don��t throw it away!��


    Rhaegar was surprised and looked at the little sun in his arms, who was making threatening gestures. He recalled that when Lyanna was a month old, a dragon egg had been ced in her cradle��a beautiful, brilliant blue Dreamfyre egg, personally selected by Hena as an apology.Lyanna waved her tiny hands and begged, ��Mother, don��t throw away my dragon egg.��


    Unfortunately, no one paid attention to the energetic little girl. Rhaegar looked at Jeyne, and Jeyne looked back at him. She intended to say something sarcastic but found herself unable to: ��Baelon sent me his dragon egg, and I was just about to return it to Rhaenyra.��


    Her voice was muffled, and her tone was sarcastic. Rhaegar smiled faintly. ��Don��t bother. Baelon��s little scheme is no secret to the King.��


    Jeyne had nothing to say in response. She was a reasonable woman and didn��t want to get involved with the next generation. Baelon wasn��t bad; he was a gentle child.


    ��Anna, stop jumping around,�� Rhaegar gently held the little girl down. ��Keep the dragon egg for Dany.��


    ��Mine! Mine!�� Lyanna protested, holding tightly onto Rhaegar''s hand.


    Jeyne looked at Skr helplessly. ��Take Anna down to rest.��


    Anna was Lyanna''s nickname, used by those close to her. Skr nodded and approached Rhaegar, respectfully saying, ��Your Grace.��


    ��Mm.�� Rhaegar handed the child to her, not forgetting to pinch Lyanna��s cheeks and tease, ��Little girl, even the pigs in the countryside are easier to catch than you.��


    Lyanna was indignant as she was taken away by force. The hall quieted, leaving only Rhaegar and Jeyne.


    Rhaegar, honest and straightforward, said, ��I came here to give Dany a proper family name.��


    Jeyne stood up in surprise.


    ��I''ll listen to your opinion on what surname to give her,�� Rhaegar smiled.


    ��Good news alwayses in session,�� Jeyne remarked, though she seemed at a loss for words. ��The troops in Gulltown are ready to move at any time.��


    ��These are all trivial matters. All you need to do is decide on a surname for Dany.�� Rhaegar remained calm, treating the opposition as if they were merely fish on a chopping board. With his father Viserys secretly backing him, the opposition in the Vale was negligible.


    For a moment, Jeyne was silent. The matter of her eldest daughter''s surname had always weighed heavily on her. She harbored a deep resentment towards Rhaenyra and her children, especially since she had two girls in a row while Rhaenyra had three boys. It felt like a cruel twist of fate.


    Rhaegar waited patiently, not disturbing Jeyne.


    After a while, Jeyne came to her senses, lowered her head, and whispered, ��Dany misses you very much. Go see her.�� She waved her hand lightly, signaling her desire to be alone.


    Rhaegar picked up the incubator and left with the dragon egg. Jeyne��sck of refusal signaled her eptance of the dragon egg��a gift from one child to another, there''s no reason for a Lord to refuse such a gift.


    ...


    The Maiden Tower


    Through the willow trees in the back garden, a window panel can be seen high up in the tower. The Eyrie''s environment is rtively barren. The windows are not made of ss but are made with iron bars and wooden boards.


    Creak-


    The window board is lifted, revealing a shaggy head with a pointed nose.


    Bang, bang, bang...


    Lyanna ran up to a closed wooden door, pounding it with her fists. ��Sister, I met someone with silver hair just like yours.��


    ��...��


    There was no response.


    Lyanna didn��t give up. She sat down on the ground and continued knocking on the door. ��Open up, open up.��


    Her sister never came out of her room. Every time she wanted to see her, she had to knock for a long time.


    After a while, Rhaegar appeared at the end of the corridor and stood behind the little girl.


    ��Sister, open the door!�� Lyanna was still knocking, unaware of Rhaegar''s presence.


    Knock, knock!


    Rhaegar reached out and knocked on the door, whispering, ��Dany, are you okay?��


    ��Huh?�� Lyanna looked up in surprise and realized someone was there.


    At that moment,


    Creak-


    The door opened a little, and a small head with long silver-blonde hair poked out. She was a little girl, about six or seven years old. Her fair face was hidden behind the door, peeking out timidly. Her purple eyes were full of anticipation and anxiety.


    ��Father~�� The little girl let out a surprised cry the moment she saw Rhaegar. Bang! The door flew open, and the girl flew into Rhaegar''s arms like a swallow returning to its nest.


    ��Be careful!�� Rhaegar was quick on his feet and caught his eldest daughter.


    Lyanna, still sitting on the floor, looked up with big, confused eyes.


    ��Father?��


    ��Yes.�� Hearing his second daughter''s mumbling, Rhaegar smiled and replied.


    He hugged his eldest daughter and set the incubator down. Then he turned to pick up Lyanna and closed the door behind him. The Eyrie is so high up that even in the middle of summer, you can feel the cold wind.


    ...


    Inside the House.


    Rhaegar, Daenerys, and Lyanna sat in a row, with two identical incubator ced in front of the girls. Rhaegar opened one container to reveal a blue dragon egg. ��Dany, did Anna give you this?�� he asked softly.


    Daenerys leaned against her father, resting her head on hisp. ��Anna put it here and said she wanted to hatch it with me,�� she whispered.


    Rhaegar rubbed Lyanna��s head and praised her. ��Anna is wonderful. She knows how to share good things with her sister.��


    ��That��s right!�� Lyanna puffed out her chest, proud of herself.


    Rhaegar smiled, pushing the two incubator toward his daughters. ��Now you each have one. In the future, you��ll each have a baby dragon.��


    Daenerys hesitated, reaching out to touch the watery blue dragon egg in the container. This dragon egg belonged to Lyanna, but she was sharing it with her. It felt like a gift.


    Rhaegar stroked her gaunt face and reassured her. ��Take it. In the future, no one will dare criticize you, just like Anna.��


    Daenerys turned to look at her sister. Lyanna spread her legs, the bronze dragon egg nestled between them, and pretended to bite it.


    ��You can��t eat this, Anna,�� Daenerys whispered.


    Lyanna was taken aback, not expecting her sister to speak up. ��I��ll try it. Dragon eggs are hard,�� she said happily.


    Daenerys sat up and found a handkerchief in the embroiderer''s basket to wipe her sister''s drool. Lyanna closed her eyes contentedly, like azy kitten. She adored her sister, who had silver-blonde hair and amethyst eyes, and was beautiful and smart.


    Rhaegar smiled as he watched the two sisters interact. Dany had inherited his dominant genes, with silver hair and purple eyes��the Targaryen look. Lyanna had inherited her mother Jeyne''s features, with chestnut hair and ck eyes. Rhaegar did not discriminate; he thought both daughters were lovely.


    He looked around the small room, noting its tidy organization. It wasn��t that Jeyne was mean to her daughters; it was just the way things were done in The Eyrie. There were seven white spires, and the rooms were frugal, unlike the opulence of the Red Keep in King''s Landing.


    Suddenly, Rhaegar noticed the basket of embroidery. He reached in and pulled out two particrly conspicuous white handkerchiefs.


    ��Father?�� Daenerys hugged her sister and kept a watchful eye on Rhaegar.


    ��It��s nothing. I just want to see your work,�� Rhaegar replied with a smile, though his eyes grew serious as he examined the handkerchiefs.


    On the first handkerchief, a red dragon with its head cut off was depicted, still in a flying position with its neck split in two and blood spraying. Next to the gruesome dragon''s heady a conspicuous golden crown.


    ��A red dragon with a crown?�� Rhaegar whispered, immediately thinking of the Aethyrys family.


    The embroidery on the second handkerchief was also familiar. ��Daeryon!�� Rhaegar��s brow furrowed as he recalled the illustrations in ancient texts. The intertwining of two green dragons symbolized the endless power of reproduction, a theme valued by a Dragonlord family called Daeryon, though not as openly as the Aethyrys family.


    ��Father, don��t you like it?�� Daenerys crept up to him, clutching a handkerchief in her hand.


    Rhaegar looked down and saw the embroidery on it. It depicted a green dragon with a well-proportioned body, a long tail like a scorpion��s sting, and a body that spiraled into a circle with the tail connecting to the head.


    Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed as he recognized it. ��Trickster,�� he muttered. The iconic long tail was the best bnce for aerialbat. From the battle between the Trickster and Tyraxes, it was evident that the dragon''s tail also had sensing capabilities.


    This was the family crest of the Berys family. No, it wasn��t just a family crest��it was a totem. For a Dragonlord family, a totem symbolized their glory and unique breeding of dragons.


    ��The Targaryens was not a high-ranking family,�� Rhaegar thought, ��and apparently did not have such a privilege.��


    Rhaegar, feeling a mix of emotions, crouched down. ��Dany, tell your father how you came up with these embroideries.��


    Daenerys, a little scared, whispered, ��In my dreams, I always see a continuous stretch of volcanoes.��


    ��What��s in the volcanoes?�� Rhaegar��s interest piqued.


    ��There are dragons, dragon eggs...�� Daenerys�� voice trembled as she spoke, her body shaking slightly. ��So many dragons, fighting and bleeding.��


    Her face turned pale, and her breathing quickened.


    ��Okay, okay, don��t think about it anymore,�� Rhaegar quickly stopped her, seeing her distress.


    Daenerys shivered, her eyes gradually going nk, and muttered, ��Dragons! There��s a dragon in the distance!��


    ��Dany, wake up.�� Rhaegar hugged his daughter and gently rocked her. ��Don��t think about it anymore. Rx.��


    His eldest daughter had inherited his Dreamer talent and had been gued by visions since childhood. It was hard to imagine that her talent seemed to surpass even his.


    Click! Click!


    Rhaegar was worried about his daughter when a crisp sound came from behind. He turned and was momentarily distracted.


    Lyanna was panicking, clutching her skirt. The bronze dragon egg seemed toe alive, shaking and covered in spider web-like cracks.


    ��Ka~~��


    The dragon egg cracked open, and a bronze dragon head with a shell on its horn poked out. The baby dragon had broken out of its shell.


    Rhaegar was momentarily awestruck and muttered, ��A dragon in the distance, or a dragon right in front of me?��

 Chapter 525: Encountering an Adult Wild Dragon

    Chapter 525: Encountering an Adult Wild Dragon


    ��Roar!��


    The young dragon stretched its neck and let out a roar to announce its birth. Its body was covered in bronze-colored scales, its horns were a fiery red, and its wings were a bright yellow with blood-red veins. At first nce, it looked like it was made of gold iid with rubies.


    ��Ka-boom!��


    Hungry and eager, the young dragon bit down on the shell, nearly shattering its fine dragon teeth. It cried out in frustration and broke through the hole in the shell, as if to say, ��This is not what dragons eat!��


    ��Father, a baby dragon!�� After the initial panic, Lyanna��s eyes sparkled with excitement. She quickly got up and reached out to grab the baby dragon.


    ��Roar!�� The young dragon nced at her with its red pupils and flew away.


    Pop!


    It smashed into Lyanna''s little head as she pounced, pping its wings and bouncing back and forth. Lyanna was taken by surprise and was trampled by the baby dragon, her already unruly chestnut hair now even more like a bird��s nest.


    ��Roar... Roar...�� The young dragon was so excited that it stomped and called out, as ifughing at her.Seeing this, Rhaegar wanted to put down the weak Daenerys and rescue his clumsy daughter.


    ��Yah!�� But then Lyanna suddenly exploded with energy, and one of her chubby little hands grabbed the young dragon by the neck. The dragon��s neck was slender and unable to fight back when pinched.


    ��Ga!�� The baby dragon��s neck was almost broken, and it rolled its eyes in pain.


    Lyanna��s eyes were teary as she indignantly scolded, ��Bad dragon, even my mother never hit me!�� Her small fat hand iled, and the young dragon was forced to il in the air.


    ��Ga~��


    The young dragon let out a weak cry, feeling the imminent threat of death.


    ��Lyanna, stop!�� Rhaegar called out, his worry evident. From his perspective, the baby dragon was iling around like a rag doll, dangerously close to dying. He even called out his daughter''s name in desperation.


    Plop!


    Startled by his shout, Lyanna threw the baby dragon away like a rag doll. The young dragon tumbled through the air,nding with a series of somersaults.


    Rhaegar was momentarily stunned, then said in amazement, ��Anna, you��re amazing.�� His three-year-old daughter was showing the strength of a true warrior. If he hadn''t intervened, the baby dragon might have perished before fully hatching.


    ��Wa wa wa...�� Lyanna''s mouth pouted, and tears fell like confetti. ��Oh, my head hurts,�� she cried, holding her head with both chubby little hands. Her head was a bit too big, and her arms too short and fat, barely covering her ears. This realization made her even more sad.


    ��Don��t cry, don��t cry. The dragon likes you and is just ying,�� Rhaegar said, flustered. He took his eldest daughter in his arms tofort his youngest.


    ��Really?�� Lyanna sniffled, her big eyes filled with innocence.


    ��Yes, when has Father ever lied to you?�� Rhaegar reassured her, picking up the confused dragon and cing it in Lyanna��s arms.


    Lyanna looked down at the baby dragon, then up at her father. ��It seems like he hasn��t lied to me,�� she pouted.


    Rhaegar forced a smile, feeling both helpless and amused. ''Of course I haven��t. Before today, you silly girl, you didn��t even remember you had a father.''


    ��Roar����


    The young dragon suddenly woke up, finding itself in the arms of the little devil king. It hugged its head and shivered in fear.


    Lyanna, with tears in her eyes, said softly, ��Don��t be afraid, I won��t hit you.��


    ��Roar���� The baby dragon remained scared, lying on its soft little belly, not daring to move.


    Rhaegar ced Daenerys on the bed and said, ��Anna, the baby dragon hatched in your arms. Give it a name.��


    It was a curious situation. The Bronze Dragon Egg,id by Syrax, had been ced in Baelon''s cradle by Rhaenyra herself. For six years, it did not hatch. Lyanna had the blue egg for three years, yet it never hatched either. But within a short time of being with Lyanna, the Bronze Dragon Egg hatched. It seemed that the hatching of dragon eggs truly depended on fate.


    Lyanna sobbed, pinching the baby dragon��s wings with both hands, her clumsy brain working hard. ��How about calling it Fluffy?�� she suggested.


    The castle��s dog breeder had a sheepdog named Fluffy, ck and white, known for tricking children into ditches.


    Rhaegar was at a loss for words and said tactfully, ��No, a dragon deserves a name that befits its grandeur.��


    Lyanna lowered her head in disappointment. ��I can��t. You do it, Father.��


    Rhaegar thought for a moment. ��Let��s call him Vermax.��


    ��What does it mean?�� Lyanna asked, her wide eyes reflecting Rhaegar��s face.


    ��Ites from the Valyrian god of freedom,�� Rhaegar exined. ��Vermax represents freedom, flight, and enlightenment, and is also known as the god of wisdom.��


    Vermax, although idealistic and not very powerful, was a subordinate god of the goddess of fertility, Syrax. The god of battle, Arrax, and the god of thunder, Tyraxes, served as the shield and sword of the goddess of fertility when she was threatened.


    Captivated by the story, Lyanna rubbed her cheek against the baby dragon, saying happily, ��Good, his name is Vermax. He��s my little dragon.��


    ��I��m d you like it,�� Rhaegar said, relieved to see his daughter happy. He hesitated before adding, ��Dany needs to sleep for a while. Let��s not disturb her, shall we?��


    Lyanna looked at her sleeping sister and reluctantly agreed. ��Okay.��


    Rhaegar, satisfied, picked up his daughter and the baby dragon and left the room.


    ...


    Evening


    In the hall, the dinner party began.


    Daenerys, having just woken up, sat down in a chair, looking exhausted. Rhaegar naturally took the seat next to her, with Lyanna, his little shadow, by his side. Jeyne sat across from them, with Jessamyn and Skr standing as herpanions.


    As the meal was about to begin, Jeyne turned to herpanions. ��You should go and eat as well.��


    The two women exchanged a nce and tactfully excused themselves. The four didn��t need them for dinner.


    Rhaegar smiled and cut the roast for his two daughters. Lyanna, a glutton for everything, not only ate for herself but also took time to feed Vermax, who looked like a dragon-shaped doll mped around her waist.


    ��Father, I��ve had enough to eat,�� Daenerys said, her cheeks flushed.


    Rhaegar shook his head. ��Eat more. You��ve lost a lot of weight since thest time we met.��


    Daenerys reluctantly opened her mouth and epted her father''s feeding. There''s a kind of hunger that onlyes out when her father is around.


    Jeyne sipped her wine, her eyes never leaving the three of them. Since the dinner began, her lips had been curling up into a smile. Rhaenyra was truly amazing, giving birth to three sons in one go. But she wasn''t bad either. Both of her daughters were very much loved by Rhaegar. This affection could even be called pampering.


    Rhaegar looked at her and continued to dwell on his daughters. Before he knew it, he had many children. Compared to the others, his two daughters and his youngest son, Maekar, were his favorites.


    Dany was born in winter, pale and fragile. She inherited his talent for dreaming and was gued by nightmares. She was a very obedient child. Even when Rhaegar didn''te to the Vale for long periods of time, she understood and didn''tin, treasuring every moment they had together.


    Lyanna, on the other hand, was a bundle of charm and personality. Who doesn��t love a little girl who loves tough?


    Baelon and Aemon were twins, but their personalities were very different. The eldest son was calm and honest, talking and acting like a little lord. When Rhaegar discussed business with him, it felt like he had another father.


    The younger son was mischievous and often got caught and beaten up by the older son. Every time Rhaegar saw him, he felt like he had a grandson. What a nuisance!


    The atmosphere was harmonious when Rhaegar suddenly suggested taking his two daughters back to King''s Landing to meet their grandfather.


    Daenerys and Lyanna both stopped, thetter still chewing on a piece of meat. Three pairs of eyes fixed on Jeyne across the table.


    Jeyne, unperturbed, thought carefully. ��Dany still needs ast name, so it��s not good for her to leave The Eyrie,�� she said, implying that Lyanna could go with them.


    Rhaegar��s eyes twinkled, understanding the unspoken meaning. Lyanna had been given the Targaryen name at birth, linking her to the royal family. Jeyne wanted an heir, so Daenerys would need to take the name of Arryn to inherit The Eyrie.


    Rhaegar nodded. ��When the war is over, I��ll take Dany to King��s Landing.��


    ��I don��t want to be separated from my sister,�� Lyanna whispered, lowering her head.


    Daenerys blinked her purple eyes, her small hands sped together in a conflicted expression. She didn��t want to be separated from Anna, nor did she want to miss seeing her father for a long time.


    Jeyne, seeing the sisters'' reluctance, said softly, ��I promise you��ll see each other again soon.��


    The two little girls nodded in unison, not wanting to contradict their mother.


    Jeyne sighed and turned to Rhaegar. ��The troops in Gulltown have assembled. They are waiting for yourmand.��


    ��Thank you,�� Rhaegar replied.


    Jeyne, feeling slightly awkward, added, ��I��ve heard about Daemon and the events in ver''s Bay. You need to be careful.��


    ��Don��t worry,�� Rhaegar said reassuringly.


    ��I mean, there are many things to be cautious about,�� Jeyne continued, her tone serious. ��Daemon has the right to marry more than once, and Sea Snake and Laena will not let it go. You have to be careful that Rhaenyra doesn��t get involved.��


    She paused, then added, ��And the new Dragonlord��if you can eliminate him, don��t hesitate.��


    Though no longer at the center of politics, as a female Lord, she remained informed about everything happening. She understood many things at once.


    Rhaegar was very pleased and said gently, ��Don��t worry, I��ll pay extra attention.��


    ...


    Seven Days Later


    Time flew by, and it was time to say goodbye.


    Rhaegar mounted the Cannibal, holding a weeping Lyanna close, and flew towards the Stornds.


    He had tasked Aemond with recruiting troops from the Stornds, but there had been no response from him yet. Remembering Hena��sst words before he left, Rhaegar wanted to ensure Aemond wasn��t cking off.


    ...


    The Afternoon, Sea of Dorne


    Roar!


    Cannibal soared through the sky, carrying Rhaegar and his weeping daughter, Lyanna, through a sea of clouds.


    Rhaegar looked calm, taking the opportunity to inspect the Sea of Dorne and the rebuilt city of Yronwood. Everything seemed peaceful and normal.


    ��Let��s go, partner,�� Rhaegar said, patting the dragon��s back as he prepared to return to Storm��s End.


    Roar!


    Suddenly, a piercing scream echoed through the sky, and a dragon crashed through the sea of clouds. Rhaegar, stunned, looked back.


    Roar...


    A light silver dragon, its wings pping wildly, fell unsteadily from the clouds. After much tossing and turning, it barely managed to regain its bnce, soaring beneath the clouds in an agitated state, whinnying up and down.


    ��Seasmoke?�� Rhaegar recognized it instantly, surprised. Seasmoke was known to wander near the Sea of Dorne, familiar to local fishermen for its loyalty. Though not a battle-hardened dragon, it was no ordinary beast either. How could it fly so unsteadily, almost falling into the sea?


    Roar...


    Cannibal��s green pupils turned cold as it suddenly looked into the distance. Rhaegar��s face changed slightly as he hugged Lyanna tightly. Cannibal sensed danger, its mouth emitting a green me as it entered a state of alertness.


    Man and dragon stared intently in the same direction��from which Seasmoke hade.


    Roarr!


    Suddenly, a muffled roar like thunder reverberated, causing the sea to tremble.


    Hoo��


    In the sea mist, a dragon as big as a mountain emerged. Its thick, powerful tail pushed aside the misty clouds. Rhaegar��s eyes widened as he glimpsed a sh of moss-like dark green scales.


    A dragon! A wild dragon he had never seen before!

 Chapter 526: The Influence of the Magic Tides

    Chapter 526: The Influence of the Magic Tides


    "Cannibal, go after it!�� Rhaegarmanded without hesitation, snapping the dragon whip like a poisonous snake.


    Roar!


    Cannibal could no longer hold back and charged out at full speed. The sun shone brightly, and the waves surged below. The dark green wild dragon disappeared into the clouds, with fog billowing and concealing its shadow.


    Rhaegar��s eyes were as sharp as a hawk''s, fixed on the churning clouds, tracking the wild dragon''s every move. A wild dragon isparable to a walking natural disaster. He no longer cared where the wild dragon came from, only that it be captured or killed.


    ��Over there, I see it!�� Lyanna, in her father''s arms, pointed urgently at a rtively t area in the clouds. Vermax shivered slightly, hiding in his master��s embrace. The sight of the Cannibal was terrifying��a dragon that eats dragons, an old, stinking beast.


    ��Cannibal, don��t let it get away!�� Rhaegar trusted his daughter''s guidance implicitly. The Sea of Dorne, an ind sea between Dorne and the Stornds, was always hot and humid, with thick clouds forming from the steaming sea. The wild dragon hid in the clouds and soared, making its whereabouts difficult to detect.


    Roar!


    Cannibal��s pupils focused on a cloud of foul-smelling mist. He swallowed his saliva and roared, charging in. The mist and clouds scattered at the first impact, turning into cool, refreshing wisps. Rhaegar looked left and right, searching for the wild dragon''s trail.


    Boom!Cannibal, a veteran of many battles, spat out a mouthful of dark green dragonfire, dispersing therge cloud blocking their view. However, the sky remained blue and clear��there was no dragon in sight.


    ��Roar���� Seasmoke let out a loud cry and plunged into the sky. The light silver scales blended perfectly with the clouds and mist as it searched for the old dragon that had attacked it.


    ��It��s helping,�� Lyanna whispered, burying her little head and peering at the rampaging Seasmoke.


    Rhaegar patted her on the head, his mood immediately darkening. Alone, he dared to fight the dragon, but with Lyanna in his arms, he was obviously not fit for battle.


    ��Roar���� Seasmoke poked its head out again, its pupils filled with hatred, but it found nothing. It finally had a backer, but the old dragon had vanished.


    ��Roar���� The Cannibal, with its green pupils, sniffed around.


    ��How could it be gone?�� Rhaegar murmured, suspicious and unable to believe it. At a quick nce, the ck and green wild dragon was enormous, with a head and tail stretching no less than a hundred meters��the length of an adult dragon.


    The reflection in the clouds and mists had made it appear smaller. In reality, it was slightlyrger than the newly adult Dreamfyre. Even if it wasn��t as formidable as Vhagar, it was not inferior to Vermithor. How could such a dragon disappear before his eyes?


    A dragon species that is suitable for the sea or excels at flying and hiding, Rhaegar thought, still perplexed. Caraxes excelled at naval battles and had an endless supply of Dragonfire. Grey Ghost mastered the art of concealment and hid in the clouds for years. It was not umon for a wild dragon to have special survival skills.


    Suddenly,


    ��Roar����


    The deep and powerful roar of the dragon reverberated ten miles away. Rhaegar turned in surprise, seeing only a sea of clouds. The clouds stirred gently, as if something huge had swum through them.


    ��Roar!��


    Seasmoke reacted violently, smashing through the clouds and fog as if venting its frustration, its body moving up and down nimbly.


    ��The dragon has escaped,�� Lyanna said timidly, clutching her father��s clothes tightly. She seemed to feel a sense of fear and was less lively than usual.


    ��It��s okay. We��re already very lucky to have seen it,�� Rhaegar said, managing to keep his expression neutral as he ran his fingers through her unruly chestnut hair.


    ��Roar����


    Cannibal hung in the air, its neck turned to face its rider, its green eyes clouded with uncertainty. It seemed to be asking if it should go after the wild dragon. The Cannibal was bigger, faster, and younger. If it pursued and fought with all its strength, the wild dragon might not be able to escape.


    Rhaegar hesitated for a moment, then said, ��Let it go for now. Let��s go back to Storm��s End first.��


    Hoo-hoo!


    Cannibal snorted heavily and turned back towards Massey��s Hook. The rider took his cub with him, along with a small snack. As everyone knows, you can��t take children and food into a fight.


    ...


    As they passed through the sea of clouds, Seasmoke continued to roar and writhe restlessly.


    Rhaegar cracked his dragon-taming whip, speaking in High Valyrian, ��Seasmoke, leave this ce!�� An unknown adult wild dragon was wandering around, and it was not suitable for Seasmoke to face it, it had just be an adult.


    ��Roar...�� Seasmoke roared at Rhaegar but was too afraid of the terrifying <em>Dragoneater</em> to make a move.


    Crack!


    The whipshed out, striking the light silver dragon''s back.


    ��Roar!�� Seasmoke cried in pain, dodging back and forth. Rhaegar��s eyes shed with anger, and he shouted, ��Seasmoke, get back to Dragonmont!�� He slowly rolled up the dragon whip, preparing for the nextsh. If you don��t obey, you��ll get a whipping.


    ��Roar!�� Seasmoke hesitated for a long time but eventually gave in. The dragon��s head swung, and it soared towards the Gullet.


    ��Let��s go too,�� Rhaegar said, slightly relieved to see Seasmoke disappearpletely. Losing a dragon with battlefield experience to the jaws of a wild dragon was uneptable.


    He knew the magic tides were surging, bringing many unknowns.


    ...


    Evening at Storm''s End.


    Cannibalnded in the front courtyard of Storm''s End, crushing arge area of masonry beneath its massive weight.


    "Roar..."


    A shrill squeal echoed, carrying with it a slightly mischievous temperament. Rhaegar nced sideways to see the Mud Dragon, Sheepstealer, hiding in the corner, gnawing on the remains of a sheep.


    "Aemond is here after all," Rhaegar muttered, looking at the overcast sky. The weather was as bad as ever.


    "What an ugly dragon," Lyanna said, sticking her head out, her cute little face scrunched up in distaste. Cannibal was hideous, but at least it was easy to look at. The pale silver dragon they had seen on the way was even more impressive. She never thought there could be such an ugly dragon with such a small head. It was so ugly!


    "Roar..." Sheepstealer, seemingly hearing the girl''s grumbling, spread its wings to reveal its scrawny, skeletal appearance.


    "Don''t look, you''ll dirty your eyes," Rhaegar rolled his eyes and slid down the dragon''s back, carefully helping his daughter to the ground.


    ...


    The father and daughter entered the castle under the escort of guards. Lyanna broke free from her father''s embrace, jumped to the ground, crossed her arms, and looked up at him proudly. ��Father, I''m not afraid.��


    Rhaegarughed, ��What are you not afraid of?��


    ��Not afraid of the dragon in the clouds,�� Lyanna replied matter-of-factly. ��I saw it. It had dirty scales, brown wing membranes, and it was very long and fierce.��


    Rhaegar raised his eyebrows, intrigued. ��You could see it?��


    He had just wondered how Lyanna had known which way the wild dragon went.


    ��Yes, it was clear,�� Lyanna pouted, as if to say, ��Come on, praise me!��


    ��How did you see it? With your eyes?�� Rhaegar crouched down and gently guided her.


    Lyanna, confused, said, ��I just know. It''s like I can see it in my head,�� holding her cute little head in her hands.


    ��Anna, you''re a little genius,�� Rhaegar eximed, pleasantly surprised. He gave his daughter a big kiss. His bloodline was truly extraordinary. Baelon and Aemon were blessed from birth, Daenerys was a Dreamer, and Maekar seemed to have the gift of foresight. Now, Lyanna, his fifth child, had proven to have remarkable abilities as well.


    Rhaegar smiled, feeling proud of his talented children.


    ��Hmph, I''m awesome, aren''t I?�� Lyanna said, not entirely understanding her father''s praise but knowing she had impressed him. She crossed her arms, beaming with pride.


    As the father and daughter were talking, an attendant hurried over.


    ��Your Grace, wee to our humble abode,�� the male servant said, bowing and coughing slightly. The arrival of a dragon, and the king on the Iron Throne, brought an inevitable pressure.


    Rhaegar looked around and frowned. ��Where are Lady Elenda and Lady Cassandra?�� It was improper for the widow of the former Lord and the current Lady to be absent when the King was visiting.


    The manservant��s face froze, and he stammered.


    Sensing something was wrong, Rhaegar asked, ��Where is Aemon? I saw his dragon.��


    ��The Prince... he��s upstairs,�� the manservant replied, on the verge of tears. ��Lady Elenda is ill, and Lady Cassandra ising down the stairs.��


    ��You have a poormand of the art of conversation. You are a poor host,�� Rhaegar said, shaking his head before walking straight upstairs.


    Lyanna tilted her head, standing there in a daze. ��Huh?�� Vermaxy on her head, its own head tilted to one side.


    Rhaegar stepped onto the stairs and waved back. ��Come on, you��ll get lost in a minute.��


    ��I��ming!�� At the sound of her father��s call, Lyanna sprang into action, like a horse that had broken free.


    ...


    Rhaegar ascended the stairs, climbing all the way to the top. The sound of footsteps echoed through the hall.


    tter, tter, tter...


    As he reached a corner, he bumped into a beautiful figure.


    ��Your Grace, Your Grace,�� Cassandra said, her red eyes still wet with tears. She wiped her eyes in panic and bowed in apology.


    Lyanna, holding her father''s leg, looked curiously at the youngdy, not understanding why she was crying.


    Rhaegar had the same question. ��Are you worried about Lady Elenda��s condition?��


    ��No... yes,�� Cassandra hesitated before answering, then forced a smile. ��Your Grace, thank you for your concern. My mother��s illness is not a serious problem.��


    Rhaegar frowned inwardly, not believing her. A nobledy ruling over the Stornds would not lie so easily. He thought of Aemond, who was in Storm��s End, and guessed the reason behind her tears.


    Rhaegar sighed and said bluntly, ��Take me to Aemond. I want to talk to him.��


    ��Your Grace, he is busy,�� Cassandra said, lowering her head and twirling the fabric of her skirt with her fingers.


    ��Take me there,�� Rhaegar repeated in a serious tone. ��This is an order.��


    Cassandra dared not refuse. ��Yes, Your Grace,�� she replied, turning to lead the way up the stairs.


    Lyanna, always curious, muttered, ��It��s an order.��


    Rhaegar heard her and rubbed her head affectionately. ��Yes, Your Grace,�� Lyanna repeated, enjoying the moment and imitating her father crisply.


    ...


    Soon, the three of them stopped in front of a wooden door. Rhaegar stepped forward, intending to knock.


    ��Oh... uh-huh...�� Suddenly, a series of ragged breaths emerged, apanied by obscene words and lewd talk.


    Rhaegar''s hand, which was halfway to the door, froze. He turned his head stiffly, directing aplex expression towards Cassandra.


    ��I didn��t want toe,�� Cassandra said, stepping back and avoiding eye contact.


    ��You! How could you...�� Rhaegar was momentarily speechless. With a flick of his sleeve, he withdrew his hand, incredulous at the scenario unfolding before him. A female lord sinking to such a low level was unbelievable to him.

 Chapter 527: Between Green and Being Green

    Chapter 527: Between Green and Being Green


    Cassandra burst into tears, unable to speak. Inside the room, the sounds of music continued. Rhaegar''s forehead throbbed with veins as he tried to suppress his anger. ��Stay away from here. I''ll handle this.��


    ��Yes,�� Cassandra replied, her eyes red. She took a curious-looking Lyanna by the hand and silently retreated to the end of the hallway.


    Bang!


    Rhaegar kicked the wooden door, which flew open with a loud bang.


    ��Ah!��


    A scream rang out, apanied by the sound of bedsheets being pulled aside. Rhaegar stood in front of the door, taking in the scene inside.


    A woman with silver-blonde curls had climbed out of bed on her side, her milky white skin on full disy. She had been the one to scream. Aemondy on the couch, his face buried in the woman''s chest. He turned his head in panic at the noise.


    Their eyes locked for a brief second. Rhaegar''s face was dark with fury. Aemond''s pupils constricted, and he felt a surge of panic.


    Thump, thump, thump...The silver-blonde woman threw the bedsheet over her head and covered her face with her hair, rushing out of the room, seemingly afraid of being recognized. Rhaegar let her pass without stopping her. A fleeting glimpse revealed her identity: Lady Celine of House Celtigar, the widow of Laenor.


    As she hurried away, Rhaegar nearly called out her name but stopped himself.


    At the end of the corridor, Cassandra shielded Lyanna''s eyes as she watched her fianc��''s unfaithful lover walk away.


    ��I''m sorry, I''m really sorry!�� a faint female voice suddenly came from inside the room.


    Rhaegar turned back, his thoughts in disarray. A petite maiden appeared from beside the bed, trembling and apologizing. Like Celine, she was naked, her hands sped around her small breasts. Her waist-length ck hair and fair skin created a stark contrast.


    ��What?�� Rhaegar was stunned. He hadn''t expected to find another girl.


    The maiden looked down, avoiding eye contact. Her petite figure showed that she was not very old, and she appeared helpless, like a frightenedmb. Her skirty discarded at the door, and the only thing covering her body was the sheet that herpanion had removed, her body trembled with a sense of shame.


    Rhaegar closed his eyes, untied his cloak, and threw it to the maiden, saying coldly, ��Get out!��


    ��Thank you, thank you,�� the maiden whispered, wrapping herself in the cloak like a treasure before running out barefoot. As she left, she cast a worried nce at Aemond.


    Aemond, naked, quickly shifted from lying on his side to curling up with his knees drawn up, his long silver-blonde hair covering his tense face. He was terrified. How could he not be? His brother had caught him in the act of adultery.


    Rhaegar hadn��t opened his eyes yet, too furious to deal with him. The maiden''s scent lingered in the air, but Rhaegar remained unmoved, holding his breath in protest.


    One second, two seconds...


    When he counted to eight, a loud p came from behind. Rhaegar frowned slightly as Cassandra��s scolding filled the room.


    ��You seduced your own sister fianc��, and you��re not even sorry!��


    ��I��m sorry����


    ��Get out of my sight! I don��t have a sister like you!��


    In a few words, the family''s moral values were shattered. Rhaegar remembered the maiden��s identity: Floris Baratheon, the youngest daughter of thete Boremund Baratheon, the youngest of the Four Storms, and the most beautiful. No wonder her soft voice sounded familiar.


    His temples swelled with a feeling of exhaustion, which soon passed. Rhaegar opened his eyes, turned around, and closed the door. With a nk expression, he said, ��Aemond, you��ve had a lot of fun, haven��t you?��


    Aemond shuddered, his fingernails digging into his calf.


    ��Haha, are you embarrassed now?�� Rhaegar walked over to him, his eyes shing with a dangerous light. ��Aegon didn��t y as much as you did, did he?��


    Aemond had seduced his cousin''s widow and then slept with his fianc��e��s younger sister. It was a situation so sordid that it left Rhaegar at a loss for words.


    Plop! Unable to withstand the pressure, Aemond rolled to the edge of the bed, hiding his head. As his brother slowly approached, he felt a thorn of anxiety prickling his back. All thefort he had felt moments before was gone.


    ��Come here,e to me,�� Rhaegarmanded, his gaze fixed as if calling out to someone else.


    Aemond hesitated. He didn��t dare move closer. Rhaegar closed his eyes in frustration and sighed, ��It''s all my fault for not teaching you well, little brother.��


    Aemond��s ears twitched slightly, touched by the unexpected admission, and he nced sideways.


    The next second��bang! A sharp pain shot through his head as someone yanked him by the hair. ��You really are a fool, kid!�� Rhaegar sneered, pulling Aemond off the bed.


    ��No! No! No!�� Aemond��s face contorted in fear as he iled his legs, staring at the ceiling. He fell to the ground like a dead dog, the impact even more painful than having his hair pulled.


    As Rhaegar released him, Aemond was left with the burning pain of his scalp, as if it had been stuck in a brazier. ��I told you to control the Stornds troops, and you, you animal, controlled them in bed!?��


    Rhaegar��s eyes darkened. He pressed his knee into Aemond��s chest and pped him hard, then again. Crack, crack, crack... He pped him a dozen times, his fingers like steel rods.


    Aemond��s mouth bled profusely. He struggled to speak, ��I��vepleted my mission...�� A tooth loosened and fell out of his mouth with a bloody ssh, ticking crisply as it hit the ground.


    Rhaegar��s eyes changed slightly for an instant, and he forcibly suppressed his anger. He grabbed Aemond by the neck with one hand, saying through clenched teeth, ��You haven��t even gotten married yet, and you��re living with another woman in your fianc��e��s castle. Who are you humiliating?��


    His voice was barely audible, full of disappointment at his brother��s failure to meet expectations. Aemond��s eyes rolled back as he was strangled, his hands clenching around Rhaegar��s iron grip, his long legs kicking furiously. He couldn��t breathe; he was going to die.


    Rhaegar slowly increased the pressure, sneering, ��You��re good! Instead of going to the brothel in King��s Landing, you��re going after your own people?��


    Celine was the widow of Laenor, the daughter-inw of Sea Snake and Rhaenys. Once the Sea Snake discovered that his daughter-inw was Aemond��s paramour, they would not let it go with the royal family. Not to mention Floris, who had sneaked into the corner. Not only was she his sister-inw, but she was also just thirteen years old, likely not even having had her first period.


    ��Ho ho...�� Aemond''s face turned pale, his pupils gradually dted, and he began to twitch spasmodically.


    Bang!


    Rhaegar grabbed him by the neck, mmed him to the ground, then let go and cursed, ��Stupid! Are you an animal who thinks with your lower body, or a brain-damaged idiot?��


    Aemond had offended two key advisers in a row. Even Aegon wasn��t this foolish.


    Aemond gasped for air, his lungs greedily taking in oxygen as if he had been forgiven.


    Rhaegar stepped back, leaning against the door, and shouted, ��Get out! Leave Storm''s End tonight!��


    He was relieved that Cassandra was an ordinary woman without malice. After chasing Aemond away, he would have to clean up the mess himself. He turned the handle and left Aemond to his fate.


    Cassandra stood at the end of the hallway, her eyes swollen like two walnuts, her head bowed and shoulders shaking. Betrayed by her fianc�� and her sister, the psychological damage was evident.


    Lyanna pouted, seeing her big sister cry, and she felt like crying too. She sniffed and went back inside.


    ��Cassandra, about this matter...�� Rhaegar began, but Cassandra interrupted him, shaking her head resignedly.


    ��I will abide by the marriage contract, Your Grace,�� she said, her voice firm.


    Rhaegar didn��t know how to persuade her. ��If there is nothing else, I will take my leave,�� Cassandra added, wiping away a tear and running downstairs without hesitation.


    This left Rhaegarpletely confused. His eyes shed with doubt. It was sad enough, but where was the anger? He frowned and muttered to himself, ��Did she lure me here to teach Aemond a lesson?��


    ��Father, what did you mean by ''lure me here''?�� Lyanna asked, looking up, confused.


    Rhaegar rubbed her head and said helplessly, ��Nothing. Let��s go to dinner.��


    The little girl immediately cheered and jumped up and down at the mention of food. As they walked down the stairs, Rhaegar nced back at the half-hidden door onest time, still feeling something was wrong.


    Lady Elenda wasn��t present, likely angry with Aemond. Cassandra had conveniently bumped into him, deliberately exposing Aemond��s shameful behavior. They both knew it.


    Rhaegar took her side, saving some face for the royal family. But Cassandra left so quickly, without the usual disy of being aggrieved, crying, and asking for help.


    It didn��t add up.


    ...


    It was gettingte, and the sun was setting. The dragon-taming arena at Storm''s End was deserted, with only the ugly, muddy Sheepstealer flying away as if escaping.


    In the attic of the castle, behind a hidden wooden window, Cassandra stood, looking out.


    ��He''s gone?�� she asked softly.


    A pair ofrge hands reached out from behind and embraced her slender waist. Cassandra looked down at the hands and slowly leaned back.


    ��I hate him,�� she murmured.


    ��A conceited man who thinks he''s better than everyone else. Who wouldn��t hate him?�� The man��s tone was sarcastic as he turned Cassandra to face him.


    Cassandra looked up at herpanion with a depressed expression. Yellow curls, green eyes, handsome and young, tall and slender��the young man was dressed in rich robes, wearing the white cloak of the Storm''s End guards, with a red and white griffin emblem hanging from his chest.


    ��Steffon, this is not the way to go,�� Cassandra said, lowering her head.


    The young man smiled helplessly. ��He��s a prince. Do you want to break the contract?��


    His name was Steffon Connington, the second son of the current Lord of Griffin��s Roost. He was a master of riding and swordy and had participated in the guerri war to clear the remnants of the invasion of Cape Wrath in Dorne.


    Cassandra broke free of the hands around her waist, her eyes staring at him like a fawn��s, and said softly, ��I won��t break the contract, but there��s always a way, isn��t there?��


    Steffon was stunned by her words, then fell silent.


    ...


    The Hall.


    Rhaegar was having dinner with his daughter when a third party intervened. Maris Baratheon, dressed in a revealing ck dress, walked gracefully to the seat across from him. She was the second oldest of the Four Storms, known for being the smartest despite herck of conventional beauty.


    Rhaegar nced at her, scooped some soup for Lyanna, and asked casually, ��Is there something wrong?�� He had thought the members of House Baratheon would avoid meeting him.


    Maris nced at Lyanna discreetly, then lifted the hem of her low-cut dress and said with a smile, ��House Baratheon can''t afford to miss a visit from the king.��


    ��Sit down,�� Rhaegar said, not even looking at her as he continued eating.


    Maris sat down and took the initiative to speak. ��Mother is too sick to get out of bed, and my third sister, Ellyn, is crying in fear. My eldest sister and youngest sister...�� She smiled apologetically, exining the situation clearly and subtly promoting herself.


    Rhaegar shook his head andughed, toozy to engage with her little tricks. ��I have limited patience.��


    ��Sorry, Your Grace. This may seem hasty,�� Maris said, standing up and looking proudly. ��Cassandra is not suitable to be a leader. She can''t even get along with her fianc��. If you like, I can be your own person at Storm''s End.��


    Rhaegar paused in the middle of feeding Lyanna and looked up. ��Can you represent your House?�� As a second daughter, you really have some nerve, he thought.


    Maris maintained a straight face. ��Cassandra doesn''t even know how many people are in the guard, and Aemond won''t be trusted by the nobles of the Stornds. I am the second daughter of Boremund, and I still have some use.��

 Chapter 528: The Confrontation Between the Sea Snake and Daemon

    Chapter 528: The Confrontation Between the Sea Snake and Daemon


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow and smiled. ��Let��s eat.��


    He didn��t reveal whether he agreed or not, leaving Maris to specte. Her eyes lit up as she quickly sat down, asionally serving food to Lyanna.


    It wasn��t about a direct answer. The fact that they could sit and share a meal together spoke volumes.


    ...


    Night had fallen. The king had retired to his room to rest, leaving Maris to her own devices. She approached a door, her long, sweat-soaked dress still damp and unwashed.


    Knock, knock!


    She knocked twice, then once more. The door opened to reveal Floris, her red eyes and sad face betraying her distress.


    ��My dear sister, you��ve been wronged,�� Maris said, hugging her younger sister tightly.


    Floris didn��t say a word, simply hugging Maris��s waist and sobbing quietly. The sisters closed the door and entered the room.Maris waited expectantly. ��Did you hear anything?��


    ��Aemond is going to marry that woman,�� Floris whispered.


    ��Well done. I knew you wouldn��t let your sister down,�� Maris replied, reaching out to hug her younger sister again. She gently stroked Floris��s tear-stained face, asionally kissing away the tears.


    ...


    Early summer was approaching, and the temperature was rising day by day. In the harbor of Lys, a Vryon warship bearing the blue seahorse g was anchored, and a grand procession was underway.


    ��Roar!��


    ��Roar...��


    The Sea Snake, with a determined expression, strode forward. Two dragons flew overhead, one red and one blue, gliding with their wings spread, intertwining and hissing.


    The guards, heavily armored, held high the g of the seahorse. The Lord was being escorted to the Topless Tower to attend the Supreme Council.


    "Roar!"


    A scarlet dragon, resembling a snake, whizzed past, forcing the two dragons to disperse and fly ahead to the Dragonpit. The two dragons nearly went mad, but Rhaenys and Daeron calmed them down.


    The Sea Snake continued walking, his gaze fixed on the scarlet dragon that had shed past. A cold light flickered in his purple eyes. Daemon Targaryen, the unfaithful Prince, would pay the price sooner orter.


    ...


    Topless Tower, Meeting Hall


    The Topless Tower��s meeting hall buzzed with activity as the sailors finished unloading the equipment. Sea Snake, apanied by Daeron, who served as his cupbearer, entered the hall.


    "Father, had a good trip?" Laena greeted him at the door and offered him a hug.


    Sea Snake embraced his daughter and scanned the hall with his piercing eyes. The seating at the conference table was divided into three small groups.


    Rhaegar and Rhaenyra sat at the head of the table, bathed in sunlight from the window. Surrounding them were their seven children, including the three brothers, the sisters Ba, Rhaena, Lyanna, and the infant Visenya.


    On the right side of the table sat the three siblings from the original Greens. Aegon was smiling, trying to tease Aemon, who stood straight, staring at the mural on the wall, not daring to look away with Rhaegar nearby. Hena was tilting her head, sewing baby clothes.


    Sea Snake gave Aemond a second look, noting that the one-eyed boy had toned down his attitude. Daeron was also weed by Laena and walked excitedly to the meeting table.


    The battle had begun, and the family meeting was held in an unusual manner. Daeron walked around the left side of the round table, passing Daemon, Rhaenys, and a pale-skinned woman, heading to his eldest brother, Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar, holding Maekar in one arm and Lyanna in the other, smiled, ��Was the journey smooth?��


    ��No problems at all,�� Daeron replied, holding his head high, showing his manly side.


    The brothers exchanged pleasantries, and Daeron politely greeted Rhaenyra, spending some time with Rhaena. Quietly and ufortably, he walked back to his seat on Aemond''s left.


    Rhaegar saw this and smiled without saying a word. After all, they were four siblings from the same mother and subconsciously trusted each other more.


    ��Look over there,�� Rhaegar nudged Rhaenyra with his shoulder, his eyes fixed on the Sea Snake, who was walking towards the left side of the table.


    Rhaenys sat in the middle, the Dark Sister sword on the table. Daemon leaned back in his chair, holding Mysaria, the White Worm, by the hand, staring at his father-inw with interest.


    Sea Snake walked over to his wife, resting one hand on the table, and said coldly, ��Is this the woman you want to marry?��


    ��Watch your words. She''s pregnant with a Targaryen''s child,�� Daemon replied, his lips curling up as he reached out to touch Mysaria��s stomach.


    Mysaria, caught between the two men''s gazes, dug her fingernails into her palm, her face turning green with anxiety.


    Sea Snake nced at Mysaria and said indifferently, ��A whore who rides a thousand men. Pray that what��s in her belly isn��t a bastard.��


    Daemon��s smile froze, his voice turning cold. ��She will give birth to a true dragon, I��m sure.��


    ��Haha, who knows.�� Sea Snake slowly sat down. ��The birthing bed is another battlefield. The Lady''s life is in the bnce. You��d better have a sessor with a pure bloodline.��


    ��Are you threatening me?�� Daemon heard the unspoken meaning and his face turned cold.


    Sea Snake remained unfazed. ��I made Rhaena the heir to Driftmark, and Ba should have the same rights.��


    Ba and Rhaena, who had stopped ying, all looked over.


    Daemon nced at his two daughters and replied, ��I will consider the heir, so you don��t need to worry about it.��


    ��Then do it quickly. Who knows which wille first, an ident or tomorrow?�� Sea Snake��s eyes were cold as he stared at Mysaria, who remained silent.


    Bang!


    Daemon stood up, his eyes filled with malice. "I swear I will rip off your dirty, smelly dick and put it in your mouth if anything happens."


    ��Daemon!��


    ��Daemon, stop!�� Two voices rang out at the same time. Laena rushed to stand in front of Daemon, blocking her father and husband.


    Rhaegar remained calm and unruffled.


    Daemon stared at Laena for a moment before looking away with a sullen expression and sitting back down. Laena turned away with a dark face, calming the Sea Snake, whose eyes were full of malice.


    Knock, knock!


    Rhaegar lightly knocked on the table, warning, ��The war in the Smoking Sea is about to begin. Today, we will only talk about war.��


    Daemon and Sea Snake exchanged a look, then both turned away in disgust. Rhaenys took Laena by the arm and sat her down next to her, giving Mysaria a brief nce.


    She didn��t say a word, but it seemed like she had said everything.


    Rhaegar put down his children and told Ba, ��Take your brothers and sisters to y.��


    Ba nced at Daemon onest time, disappointment clear in her eyes. ��Yes, Your Grace,�� she said, then left the table with the younger children, apanied by Baelon and Rhaena.


    As the children exited, the atmosphere in the hall grew tense.


    ��Ahem...�� Aegon, the most mischievous of them all, noticed the shift and coughed to cover his guilt, adjusting his posture as if to pretend innocence. He nced at Aemond, puzzled by his silence.


    Creak.


    The chair scratched the floor loudly as Mysaria broke free of Daemon''s hand. "I''m not feeling well. I''m going downstairs," she excused herself.


    Rhaegar could see the inferiorityplex and deep fear in Mysaria, the White Worm. Daemon did not stop her and allowed her to leave.


    As Mysaria passed Rhaenys and Laena, she hesitated when she reached the Sea Snake. ��When I came to King��s Landing, I had nothing, and I exchanged my body for bread and gold,�� she said, her voice trembling slightly.


    The Sea Snake looked up but didn��t bat an eye.


    Mysaria took a deep breath and continued, ��Later, I realized that selling my body didn��t make me any better off. Selling information was the way to get ahead.��


    The Sea Snake snorted and ignored her, deeming her unworthy of his attention.


    Mysaria nced at Laena and insisted, ��I��m saying that I stopped working a long time ago, and I��m not as dirty as you think.��


    Having said her piece, she pulled the scarf over her head and quickly left the hall. The air in the room, thick with tension and judgment, felt suffocating to her.


    ...


    With everyone else having left, Rhaegar''s eyes shed with a mix of emotions. He sighed, silently admiring his father''s skill at creating division.


    Can''t Daemon and the Sea Snake see it? No! They are not fools; of course, they understand their own situation. But Viserys had urately grasped Daemon''s desire for an heir, presenting a clear and open conspiracy.


    ��Your Grace, you have summoned us here to discuss strategy?�� Rhaenys asked, her mood visibly sour.


    It was only natural, and Rhaegarughed it off. After a pause, he said, ��Regarding the war in the Smoking Sea, Vntis is our first target. Myr��s army and the navy assembled by the Kingdom are in ce.��


    The Sea Snake interrupted, ��The Vryon fleetmands all the naval forces. Your Grace need not worry.��


    Rhaegar''s smile faded, and he adopted a serious tone. ��The deployment of the army has already been decided. What I want to discuss is the allocation of the dragon riders and the dragons.��


    Following the strategy of a quick victory, the army and navy would attack Vntis from bothnd and sea. Counting the garrison left behind in the Narrow Sea, the dragon riders would have to be divided into three groups.


    The Sea Snake heard this and, for some reason, looked over at Aemond.


    Aemond stood up silently and volunteered, ��I can participate in the naval battle. The Sheepstealer will burn the Vntis fleet to the ground.��


    ��No.�� Rhaegar��s response was immediate and firm.


    Aemond was taken aback. ��Why? I can do it very well.��


    ��There is no why.�� Rhaegar looked straight at him, his eyes like a deep pool.


    Aemond frowned, realizing that this was his brother''s punishment. His fists clenched, and he felt a lump in his chest.


    Rhaegar looked around the room and said, ��I will lead Daemon and the dragons to attack the city with the army. Rhaenyra and Aegon will defend Lys and the Stepstones. Hena and Laena will work with Lord Corlys to destroy the sea defenses.��


    ��What do I do?�� Aemond leaned forward, resting his hands on the table.


    Rhaenys and Daeron mirrored his action, their expressions tense.


    Rhaegar stared at Aemond for a moment before saying, ��You will patrol the upper part of the Narrow Sea and guard against Braavos breaking the treaty.��


    ��I can go to the front lines. Sheepstealer and I will not let you down,�� Aemond argued.


    Rhaegar remained firm. ��Four riders attacking Vntis. Do you think that is not enough?��


    ��Wait a minute.��


    While the brothers were arguing, Hena, who had been watching the scene unfold, put down her sewing and raised her hand.


    Rhaegar looked at her in confusion.


    Overwhelmed by the attention and a little unsure of herself, Hena hesitated and said, ��I can''t go to war. Give the spot to Aemond.��


    ��Why?�� Rhaegar��s eyes shed with suspicion.


    Aemond also looked at Hena, a warm light shing in his one eye. As expected, his sister loved him the most.


    Hena, not noticing Aemond��s gaze, scratched at the little dress she was sewing and whispered, ��I��m pregnant.��

 Chapter 529: Vhagar Injury

    Chapter 529: Vhagar Injury


    Hena lowered her head, lovingly holding the little clothes in her arms. Rhaegar was momentarily distracted, a feeling of joy welling up in his heart, causing his lips to rise unconsciously. No wonder Hena had been so focused on weaving recently; he had thought it was for Visenya.


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but ask, ��How long has it been?��


    Hena looked puzzled and said in a low voice, ��I don''t know, but he''s already in my belly.��


    Aemond was stunned. Instead of helping him out, his sister had been holding back a significant revtion. No one paid him any attention at this moment.


    Rhaegar''s thoughts raced, and he made a decision right away: ��Hena will stay in Myr, and Rhaenys will take her ce and join Laena in the naval battle.��


    ��No problem,�� Rhaenys said calmly, unafraid of the battlefield.


    Hena nodded in silent approval of the change in ns.


    Rhaegar''s brows lifted with a hint of joy, and he said, ��The battle will be three days from now. Hena and I will hold a ceremony before we leave, and the location will be Lys.�� He then looked at Rhaenyra, who was standing next to him.


    Rhaenyra took a small sip of wine and looked back at him with a dazed expression. She didn''t object, looking at him as if he was in charge. Her clear purple eyes seemed to say, ��Why are you looking at me? I''m not stopping you.��Rhaegar smiled and said, ��We don''t have much time, so let''s keep it simple.�� It might mean that Hena would have to put up with a less grand ceremony in Summerhall.


    Hena let out a sigh of relief, with a hint of joy, saying, ��That''s fine. It''s just right.�� Too many people would make it difficult to get around.


    The atmosphere of the meeting rxed with a few words. This was a good sign before the battle. It seemed they were on the path to a great victory.


    Only one person was unhappy. Aemond red with his one good eye and said, ��The battlefield is full of danger. Why don''t you let Rhaenys hide behind you and inspect the Gullet?��


    Before Rhaegar could respond, Rhaenys, with her eyebrows raised, calmly replied, ��Kid, when I was riding a dragon and exploring the world, you were still crying over a dragon.��


    Aemond retorted angrily, ��I''ve been in wars with Sheepstealer, not just sitting around.��


    ��The war you''re referring to was the annihtion of House Swann and the murder of Laenor?�� the Sea Snake interjected, his gaze piercing as he spoke out the grievances that had been in his heart for many years. Laenor''s death was undoubtedly the result of the other side deliberately dragging out the battle.


    If only they didn''t give him trouble... He died for the sake of the royal family.


    A stifledugh echoed through the hall, jarring and harsh. Aemond''s eyes darkened instantly, and the culprit was stillughing. Theughter felt like a sword stabbing straight into Aemond''s heart.


    Sensing the tension, Daemon lowered his voice and took a tactical sip of wine. Aemond''s clenched fists creaked, and he fixed his gaze on his older brother Rhaegar, eyes full of longing for a chance to prove himself.


    Rhaegar ignored him, saying indifferently, ��Patrol the Narrow Sea. That��s your mission.��


    Bang!


    Aemond mmed his hand down on the table, knocking over his chair, and stormed out of the room in a fit of anger. Hena, standing nearby, was startled by the sudden noise.


    Rhaegar''s face darkened, and for the first time during the meeting, he stood up from his seat. That bastard, he still has the nerve to give me a cold shoulder.


    ��Rhaegar,�� Rhaenyra whispered, tugging his sleeve as a reminder. The atmosphere was growing increasingly tense, and someone needed to pour a bucket of cold water on it.


    Creak��


    Hena also stood up, gathered her belongings, and hurriedly left the room, slightly nervous. Seeing this, Aegon rubbed his cheeks with both hands, looking a bit helpless. No one would believe that he had just called his younger brother and sister a waste and a fool.


    Daeron, restless and saddened, watched his brother and sister leave the table.


    ��Rhaegar, let him vent his anger,�� Rhaenyra soothed, whispering, ��Aemond is still obedient.�� At least he listens to his king and hits where he''s told to.


    Rhaegar''s anger subsided a little. The strategy was clear: four dragons would attack Vntis fromnd and sea, Rhaenyra would sit in Lys, and Aegon would block Dorne. Additionally, at least one dragon must patrol the upper part of the Gullet and the Narrow Sea.


    Rhaenys should have been in charge of the Gullet, and it made sense to rece Hena. A dragon of considerable strength had to be ced in the Narrow Sea, and Aemond with Sheepstealer was the obvious choice. If Aemond didn''t understand this, he wasn''t fit to be on the main battlefield. Once on the battlefield, he would need to follow military orders precisely.


    As the meeting drew to a close and the dragons'' deployment was finalized, Daeron reached out hesitantly, ��Brother, can I go into battle with Lord Corlys?��


    Rhaegar, still in a bad mood, replied casually, ��As you wish. Be careful of stray arrows.��


    ��Okay, thanks brother.�� Daeron raised his smiling face, pleasantly surprised by his brother''s unexpected willingness.


    ...


    On the rooftop of the Topless Tower, the ceremony began.


    "<em>Henntoti anogar, Va syndroti v?edroma</em> (Blood of two, Joined as one)." Varys intoned, his voice solemn and resonant.


    "<em>M��ro perzot gihoti / El��droma i?rza sir</em> (Ghostly me and song of shadows)."


    "<em>Izuliamp�� perzi, Pruminti s��teksi</em> (Two hearts as embers, Forged in fourteen fires)."


    Rhaegar and Hena stood opposite each other, both dressed in red and white linen robes. They were conducting the ancient Dragonlord ceremony of Valyria under the auspices of the gods. The rooftop was crowded with representatives from various families who hade to witness and fight.


    Varys, adorned in his red robe with tattoos covering his round face, continued, "<em>Hen jeny mazrion, Q��lossa ozundesi</em> (A future promised in ss, The stars stand witness.)"


    Rhaegar, looking calm, took Hena��s waist in his arms and sipped the wine of oaths with blood-stained lips. "<em>Syndroro o?o j��do, Ry kivia mazvestraksi</em> (The vow spoken through time, Of darkness and light)." he dered.


    Hena''s eyes glowed with emotion. She ced her hand on Rhaegar''s waist and shared a drink with him. Both had "Blood" and "Fire" tattoos on their foreheads. Their silver hair was tied in long braids, and their purple eyes locked in a silent exchange.


    For a moment, the brother and sister looked at each other, understanding passing between them without words. Their foreheads touched, mingling their blood. A silvery thread stretched out, marking the end of the ceremony.


    Crackling apuse broke the silence. Aegon was the first to p,ughing and toasting everyone. Sea Snake and Rhaenys stood at the forefront, disying the poise of elders. Rhaenyra, her eyshes lowered, also pped along with the crowd. The Baelon and the children surrounded her, their little heads leaning together in curiosity.


    ��Hmph!�� Aemond snorted in the corner and walked away, having stayed only to witness the ceremony. He had seen it with his own eyes and sent his blessings, but he couldn��t bring himself to stay longer.


    ��Roar!�� Cannibal whirred in, circled the Topless Tower once, and then mped its feet to the edge of the roof.


    ��Rest well and don��t stay up sewing,�� Rhaegar said, his eyes lighting up as he stroked Hena��s pretty face. He gave her the most sincere of reminders.


    Hena nodded and gave her brother another hug. After a long moment, Rhaegar mounted the dragon��s back, his red and white linen robes shining in the dust. He raised his arm and shouted, ��Army, set out!��


    ��Roar!�� At themand, the Cannibal roared into the sky.


    Roar! Roar...


    One dragon roared, and the others followed. Vhagar, Bloodwyrm, Red Queen, Blue Queen... The five dragons roared together, carrying their riders into the sky.


    In the harbor, arge fleet of ships set sail, flying colorful gs. Above Lys, several dragons of different sizes flew out of their Dragonpits, as if cheering them on. The silver-gray Tyraxes, the light green Moondancer, the emerald green Trickster...


    Dreamfyre, Syrax, and Sunfyre also carried their riders, escorting the fleet to the Disputed Lands.


    The full-scale war had begun.


    ...


    After a long journey and a few hurried days, they reached the Summer Sea.


    Rhaegar bid farewell to the Sea Snake and mounted the Cannibal, heading straight into the heart of Vntis.


    Daemon cast a brief nce at Laena, who regarded Vhagar''s back with a steely gaze, and chose not to disturb her.


    ��Keep up, Caraxes,�� he ordered.


    Caraxes, sleek and serpentine, trailed behind the <em>Dragoneater</em> with eyes as cold and cunning as ever.


    ...


    The Sea Snake, holding a map of the sea, said solemnly, ��There must be a garrison in this area. The first battle will be here.�� He pointed at a curved dotted line on the map, representing the defense line at the mouth of the Vntis estuary.


    Daeron, wearing armor and a helmet, responded with seriousness, ��My lord, shall I ride my dragon to test the situation?��


    ��Roar...�� Tessarion, curled up on the deck, its huge cobalt blue body shaking with anticipation, seemed eager to go into battle.


    The Sea Snake considered it carefully. Tessarion''s rtively small size made it suitable for high-altitude reconnaissance without being easily noticed. Daeron''s eyes were full of hope, eager to prove himself and make a contribution.


    ��No need. We''ll attack with full force.�� The Sea Snake refused, giving the order, ��You will ride the dragon and lead a fleet to attack the enemy''s nk. When the battle begins, attack the enemy''s nk to crush their morale.��


    ��Yes, my lord,�� Daeron eagerly epted the order.


    ...


    At noon, the sun zed high in the sky. Arge fleet patrolled the waters of Vntis, the scorpion crossbows on the bows glinting coldly. Roughly estimated, there were no fewer than fifty warships, and the number of troops was countless. The scorpion crossbows alone numbered more than a hundred. The soldiers were tense, knowing every patrol was a gamble with their lives.


    Hoo-hoo!


    A gust of wind whistled, sshing waves against the ships. The lookout raised his head and squinted at the sky. A small ck dot appeared, gradually growingrger.


    ��A dragon!�� the lookout shouted, seeing an old, dark green dragon moving slowly.


    ��The dragon is here! It��s an enemy!��


    Panic spread through the fleet as soldiers quickly deployed air control measures. The dragon drew closer, and Laena, with a cold look, shouted, ��Dracarys!��


    ��Roar...��


    The next second, Vhagar fell from the sky, ck smoke and roaring Dragonfire sweeping across the sea.


    Roar!


    Meleys flew out from the side like a red lightning bolt, unleashing Dragonfire on the unsuspecting ships.


    Boom, boom, boom...


    Drums beat, and screams filled the air. The Sea Snake led the way, followed by a dozen warships, like an arrow shot from a bow, cutting through the chaos.


    Boom!


    Dragonfire rained down, and crossbow bolts were fired in rapid session. The two dragons burned fiercely, causing the enemy army to temporarily lose its resistance and fall into disarray.


    ��Attack!�� the Sea Snake seized the opportunity, and the warships broke through the siege, engaging in a more brutal battle of the drawbridge. Soon, the conflict became one-sided.


    In the air, Vhagar glided slowly, leaving a trail of Dragonfire in its wake. Laena, pleased with their progress, couldn��t help but smile.


    Whoosh!


    Suddenly, a water arrow shot out of the sea, aiming at Vhagar��s pupil with invisible speed. The water was sharp, mixed with the blood of soldiers on both sides, erupting like a mountain copsing into the sea.


    At that moment, Laena was still immersed in joy and hadn''t realized the danger approaching. Vhagar shook its head and spat fire, his bloodshot pupils gleaming like ice. The next instant, its eye reflected the iing water arrow.


    Pop!


    A shrill, piercing sound followed, and hot dragon blood sshed. At thest moment, Vhagar sensed the danger and swung its head sideways to the limit.


    ��Roar...�� A furious roar of pain echoed as a scale on its chest burst open, flesh and blood spurting out.

 Chapter 530: Rhoynar Water Wizard

    Chapter 530: Rhoynar Water Wizard


    Vhagar felt a pain it had not experienced in years. Its old body struggled to support the extra movement, itsrge wings pping desperately. Its chest heaved, nearly causing it to fall from the sky.


    ��Vhagar!�� Laena was shocked, unable to believe that the old dragon was hurt. The feeling of weightlessness made her light-headed, proving the reality of the situation.


    ��Roar...�� Vhagar flew higher, ignoring the blood spilling from its body to maintain bnce.


    Whoosh! Whoosh!


    In an instant, several streams of water struck again. Vhagar''s pupils dted in panic. With its extensive battlefield experience, it dodged left and right.


    Pop!


    The dragon''s tail whipped back, sending a spray of water flying. Laena, still processing the attack, shouted, ��Vhagar, soar!��


    No matter how powerful an attack, there was always a certain distance.


    Sniffing the scent of dragon blood after a long absence, Vhagar ignored the rider''smands and dove toward the source of the attack.Whoosh! Whoosh!


    Water arrows and scorpion bolts fired in unison.


    ��Roar...�� Vhagar unleashed a torrent of Dragonfire, burning everything in its path. Its massive body swayed, dragon wings blocking out the sun and moon, breaking through ck smoke to reveal the gaping maw of the abyss.


    In this moment, the old dragon showed its true power, living up to its name as the godness of war.


    Crack!


    A mast snapped, and an entire ship was overturned by the dragon. Vhagar ignored it, tearing the nking of a warship with its ws and using the momentum to take off.


    Boom!


    ck smoke obscured the view, dragonfire burning the warships. The fleet, unable to target Vhagar, was pursued by the old dragon and nearly copsed.


    Pop!


    Suddenly, a jet of water pierced through the ck smoke, shooting through one of Vhagar''s wing membranes.


    ��Vhagar, don��t be impulsive!�� Laena shouted, panic rising as she sensed the dragon losing control.


    As expected, Vhagar waspletely enraged.


    ��Roar...�� The old dragon let out a roar that reverberated for hundreds of miles.


    ...


    On one of the enemy ships, below deck, an old man in a gray robe knelt, his hands immersed in a wooden bucket filled with seawater. His face was haggard, and each time his fingers moved through the water, cold sweat appeared on his forehead.


    ��Vagana, Rhoynar Mother...�� he chanted, intoning an ancient incantation in praise of the Rhoyne, revered as the "Mother."


    Drip, drip, drip...


    The water in the wooden bucket began to boil, spilling onto the deck and flowing into the surging sea.


    ...


    Vhagar was in a frenzy.


    The massive dragon, a hundred meters in length, glided slowly over the turbulent sea, spewing fire indiscriminately at the enemy ships below.


    "No, no, no..."


    Laena maneuvered deftly, dodging steel spears, her back drenched in sweat. "Vhagar, obey!" shemanded.


    But the dragon, overtaken by madness, paid no heed.


    "Roar..."


    With a mighty roar, Vhagar shattered a barrage of iing spears, chasing the currents, his breath a deadly stream of fire. Yet, something unusual urred. Whenever the dragon targeted a flowing water surface, new streams emerged mysteriously from elsewhere.


    Pop!


    Suddenly, a rogue spear soared through the air, striking the ancient dragon''s exposed chest wound.


    Ssh!


    Lacking scale protection, the spear buried deep into his bone, unleashing a torrent of dragon''s blood.


    The blood poured like rain, scorching those unfortunate enough to be beneath, their cries ending abruptly as they turned to desated husks.


    Weakened by its injuries, Vhagar''s strength ebbed.


    "Laena, run!" Rhaenys, witnessing the dire situation, called out for her daughter to fall back.


    "Roar!"


    Elsewhere, Meleys unleashed its own fury, spitting fire and weaving agilely between the enemy ships, dodging the deadly precision of the steel spears. Its scales, hardened from years in its prime, resisted the deadly sting of scorpion crossbows��though each broken scale was a grave loss.


    From afar, Laena could barely hear her mother��s frantic cries, lost in the chaos. The once-controble dragon now thrashed wildly under her. Heart racing, she anchored herself by digging her heels into the saddle''s chains, desperate to regain control. "Vhagar, halt!"


    "Roar..."


    Unhearing, Vhagar continued its assault, igniting ship after ship. A sudden swell caught it off-guard.


    Pop!


    A chunk of scales from its underbelly detached, revealing yet another vulnerability.


    On the other side, the Sea Snake boarded an enemy ship, shing and hacking at the enemy with his curved de. Suddenly, he heard his wife and daughter screaming and instinctively looked up.


    Z!


    Distracted for a moment, he was stabbed in the chest, causing sparks to fly.


    Swish!


    Before the Sea Snake could react, another knife cut across his neck.


    Sea battles are different fromnd battles. Infantry and cavalry are heavily armored with all-around protection, with throat armor covering their throats and protective gear for their eyes. Naval battles prioritize being light and mobile; if you fall into the water, you can still save yourself. The Sea Snake, a conceited old sailor, found the throat and face armor cumbersome.


    Pop!


    A horizontal cut across his throat made his skin feel a sharp pain. The Sea Snake''s eyes widened as he summoned all his strength to desperately throw himself backward. A drop of blood oozed out, forming a blood line on his neck.


    Plop!


    The wound stung to the bone, and he stumbled and fell into the sea.


    ��My Lord!��


    ��Lord Corlys!��


    The sailors were stunned and cried out in grief.


    ��I''ll go!��


    A young but determined voice was heard, and everyone saw a silver-haired figure leap into the sea, swimming towards the Sea Snake who had fallen into the water. But it failed to restore the morale of the crew after the loss of their captain. The sailors on the dozen or so vanguard ships led by the Sea Snake panicked and began to think about running away.


    Looking up, they saw two dragons soaring in the sky, but they were held back by enemy firepower. A sense of oppression spread.


    "Roar..."


    At this moment, a piercing dragon roar erupted. Some looked up and saw a cobalt blue dragon rushing at them at high speed.


    Daeron leaned forward, his silver hair flying in the wind, and shouted urgently, ��Dracarys!��


    Tessarion shot like a blue beam of light into the enemy ships'' encirclement, and the cobalt blue Dragonfire surged.


    ��Shoot the dragon!�� someone yelled, mobilizing the scorpion crossbows, aiming at the third dragon that had suddenly appeared.


    ��Don''t worry about them. Burn the sails!�� Daeronmanded, clear-headed and never lingering in a fight.


    Tessarion''s pupils shed with arrogance as it leapt up and down with great agility, ignoring the scorpion crossbows. The advantage of being small was fully brought into y.


    A fleet of more than a dozen warships emerged from the side, beginning to encircle the Vntis fleet, which was now inplete disarray. The situation was suddenly reversed.


    Rhaenys swooped down on the enemy ships, repeatedly bombing them, shouting, ��Meleys, burn them all!��


    Before they knew it, the limitations of the scorpion crossbows disappeared. Even the unpredictable currents of the sea were silenced by the enemy''s defeat.


    Vhagar remained suspended in the air, its massive body covering half the sky and casting a shadow over the surrounding waters.


    "Roar..."


    Dragonfire and ck smoke raged, burning the enemy''s remains.


    ...


    Time passes slowly. It iste afternoon, and the sun is setting. The wreckage of the ships burns, staining the sea red with blood. Three dragons slowly circle overhead as the fleet bearing the seahorse g gathers in one ce.


    Sea Snake''s cabin.


    Thump, thump, thump...


    The sound of hurried footsteps echoed as the cabin door was pushed open. Daeron, looking anxious, asked, ��How is Lord Corlys?��


    A bed wasid out, and the Sea Snakey there, pale and bloodless. Rhaenys and Laena stood by the bed, their eyes filled with worry.


    Daeron saw a bandage wrapped around the Sea Snake''s neck and said with concern, ��Lord Corlys, he...��


    He had been ordered to nk the enemy and had just burned their ships to the ground. As soon as he boarded the ship, he heard the news that the Sea Snake was seriously injured and in aa. The news hit him like a bolt from the blue, just as the battle had begun.


    Rhaenys ced a hand on her forehead and shook her head. ��Don''t worry. The wound didn''t cut an artery. The Maester said he can still be saved.��


    Daeron hesitated for a moment but then reluctantly shut up. If it didn''t cut the artery, it must have cut his throat. In any case, it was a serious injury.


    Rhaenys sighed and turned her attention to Laena, asking, ��How did Vhagar suddenly lose control?��


    If it weren''t for Vhagar''s almost indiscriminate attack, there wouldn''t have been any trouble.


    Laena lowered her head in self-reproach and said, ��Vhagar was injured and angered by a Water Wizard''s sneak attack.��


    ��Water Wizard?��


    Rhaenys was stunned and asked, ��The Water Wizards of Rhoynar, who has long been lost to history!?��


    Hundreds of years ago, the Freehold Empire invaded the Rhoyne River Basin. Three Dragonlords were killed by a water tornado controlled by the Rhoynar Water Wizard. The aftermath of this incident triggered the mobilization of 300 Dragonlords, who burned the Rhoyne River dry.


    Since then, the Water Wizards have disappeared. Even when Nymeria, the Warrior Queen of Rhoynar, sailed across the sea with her army, there was no record of any Water Wizards apanying her.


    Laena nodded and said in a low voice, ��When I traveled with Daemon to the Free Cities, I heard rumors of water wizards in Asshai.��


    The couple had considered traveling to Asshai, but the journey was too long, even for a dragon. Asshai itself was also full of dangers, and they abandoned the idea. Who would have thought that there would be a water wizard today, one capable of injuring Vhagar, one of the strongest dragons?


    Daeron was stunned and asked, ��If Vhagar can be injured, why didn''t the opponent attack Meleys?��


    ��He couldn''t hit her,�� Rhaenys replied tly, ncing at her nephew.


    Laena added regretfully, ��Vhagar is too slow, and in the eyes of the enemy, it''s a sitting target.��


    Rhaenys looked at her daughter and then at her husband, who was seriously injured. She made a decision on the spot: ��Laena, take a ship back to Lys and find Hena to treat your father.��


    Rhaegar had mastered mysterious magics, one for defense and one for healing. This was no secret within the royal family, which studied binding spells. Hena and Rhaenyra had both studied more advanced magic, although Rhaenyra''s pregnancy had slowed her progress. Hena, however, was gifted and already able to heal the injured.


    Laena immediately looked up, ��Why not send a ship to escort Father?��


    ��No, you and Vhagar are no longer fit for battle,�� Rhaenys rejected the idea, still hearing Vhagar''s roar outside. The old dragon could still get out of control.


    Laena wanted to object, but it was useless. She thought to herself, it was all the fault of that despicable water wizard. The main fleet of Vntis was burned to the ground, and the naval forces werepletely annihted. They had achieved a great victory, crippling Vntis'' ability to send a single ship to sea. But the water wizard seemed to have vanished. All the ships were burned, and the prisoners were all killed, but they couldn''t find a trace of him.


    The mother and daughter discussed their strategy, while Daeron, standing at the door, was deep in thought. After a long time, he suddenly said, ��We were attacked by a water wizard of Rhoynar. What about my brother?��


    Rhaenys and Laena were both filled with renewed urgency. If there were water wizards lurking in the naval battle, how could the main city of Vntis not be on guard?


    Rhaenys calmed herself and hurried to the table to write: ��Notify the Maester and immediately send a raven to inquire about the main battlefield.��


    ...


    At the same time...


    ��Roar!��


    Cannibal roamed the battlefield, its ck wings casting a shadow over the turbulent river, incinerating hundreds of small boats on the surface. The wide river split the battlefield in two. The small boats, packed with Vntis mercenaries, rained arrows down on the Knights of the Vale as they attempted to cross.


    The Knights of the Vale, constrained on theirrge ships, found their strength greatly limited.


    Pop!


    Rhaegar clenched his teeth as he pulled a shard of ice from his shoulder, staining his white linen robe red. A hum resonated as the Bronze rune activated, covering his body with blue rune scales resembling dragon scales. His only injury was on his shoulder, where arge hole had been torn in the dragon scales, and the surrounding area was unstable.


    Rhaegar exhaled deeply, using the Serpent rune to heal the wound. Looking down, he saw the river below filled with green fire.


    ��Roar...��


    Bloodwyrm soared above, scorching and destroying the small boats that dared resist. The river, called the Rhoyne, was a crucial battleground.


    Three thousand Knights of the Vale had set out from Myr, traversing the Disputed Lands to reach the river. The Rhoyne flowed through the continent, dividing Vntis on the other side. There were several towns north of Vntis. Rhaegar had captured the town of Volon Therys on the west side of the Rhoyne in half a day. However, when he attempted to cross the river to attack Sar Mell, he encountered fierce resistance and was injured by a sudden torrent of water.

 Chapter 531: Priestess of R’hllor

    Chapter 531: Priestess of R��hllor


    ��Attack!��


    The allies'' small boats crossed the Rhoyne, their archers unleashing a volley of arrows under the cover of dragons. Robb led the Second Sons as the main force, their arrows swift and deadly urate. Though the enemy had more ships and soldiers, they were nearly overwhelmed.


    Dragonfire lit up the river, turning it into a sea of green fireflies. The wailing of the wounded and the crackling of burning flesh filled the air.


    On one of the boats, an elderly crone in a gray robe hunched over, her hands folded, and her face as white as paper, reaching into a basin of water.


    ��Grandma, let''s retreat! The dragon is too strong. We can''t stop it,�� pleaded a young man and woman in white robes, their foreheads sweating profusely, their olive-colored faces contorted in pain.


    Their magic was nearly exhausted, and they were in agony.


    ��Wait a little longer. If we can''t kill the Dragonlord, we''ll at least keep the enemy from crossing the river,�� the gray-robed crone said, lowering her eyelids. Her hoarse voice carried a sense of grim determination.


    The two apprentices could do nothing but obediently continue to mobilize their magic.


    ...


    Ssh, ssh...


    The already turbulent Rhoyne suddenly surged with a magnificent wave. In an instant, several small boats capsized.


    ��Be careful, watch out for the current!�� Robb shouted, rmed, grabbing the boat''s edge tightly and warning his younger brother.


    The small boats, makeshift recements for fishing vessels, were unstable. As the waves pulled them under, they quickly sank, leaving the soldiers struggling in the water.


    The second group was from the Rivends, and most of them could swim. But the Knights of the Vale, mostlyndlubbers, would sink if they fell into the water.


    Whoosh!


    The surviving forces on the enemy ships seized the opportunity to counterattack, raining arrows down on the struggling men below.


    ��Roar..."


    Caraxes soared in, sweeping through the dense arrows with its scarlet wings, and unleashed Dragonfire to suppress the enemy''s firepower.


    ��Charge through!�� Daemon shouted coldly, splitting the battlefield from atop his dragon.


    ��Charge! Charge!��


    ��Cross the river and you won''t die!��


    The army''s morale surged. They rowed faster despite the waves, their faces flushed with excitement, as if fueled by sheer adrenaline.


    ...


    Rhaegar''s face remained calm as he observed the battle below.


    ��Roar...��


    The Serpent wrapped around his finger, sucking the ck mist from his shoulder. The wound healed, and the Serpent drifted back into his palm.


    ��Cannibal, let''s cross the river!��


    Rhaegar''s eyes locked onto the small sailing ships hiding in the rear, a cold light shing in his eyes. The Cannibal''s green eyes were dark and deep, and its massive body cast a wide shadow as it crossed the river, calmly passing the burning ships.


    Rhaegar''s goal was simple: to take advantage of Daemon''s morale-boosting charge and cross the river in one go. By upying Volon Therys and Sar Mell on both sides of the Rhoyne, they could cut off Vntis''s ind support. With the army then heading south, Vntis would be a city in istion.


    ...


    In the boat.


    With the waves crashing outside, the cabin felt as damp as if it had rained indoors.


    Gurgling...


    The water in the basin bubbled, surrounded by scattered water stains. The gray-robed old woman, pale and trembling, rose unsteadily and said in a weak voice, ��Let''s go.��


    She could smell the dragons approaching.


    The white-robed man and womany sprawled on the floor, their faces expressionless, their once smooth skin now shriveled and aged. The Rhoynar''s characteristic ck hair had turned gray at the temples.


    The gray-robed old woman red at them, shouting, ��Get up! What time is it?��


    But they were too weak to respond. Despite her repeated calls, the white-robed pair remained dazed, struggling unsessfully to rise. Their magic was exhausted, their vitality drained, and the bacsh on their bodies was severe.


    ��What a pair of failures.��


    The Crone seethed with anger at theirck of progress. She retrieved a fist-sized sapphire from her bosom, absorbing a wisp of its aquamarine luster. The sapphire dimmed slightly as the Crone��s strength marginally improved.


    She grabbed the man and woman in white robes and dragged them out with difficulty.


    ��We can''t stay any longer. The dragons won''t spare any ship.��


    The gray-robed Crone smashed open the cabin door. The smell of ash and burnt flesh filled the air, choking those inside.


    ...


    At this moment, a shadow fell from above.


    ��Roar!��


    A greenish me descended, filling the air with smoke and mist.


    The old woman looked up in panic as the green fire engulfed her face, burning off her eyebrows and skin.


    ��Ah!��


    Her scream was piercing, echoing along the edge of the Rhoyne.


    Cannibal hovered in the air, stretching its neck to aim at each boat and spewing out green Dragonfire.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were cold, and he held a ss candle in his hand, its me illuminating the Crone''sst moments.


    Attacking in the shadows? Do you think the Targaryens are thest dragonlords who don''t know magic?


    Rhoynar''s water wizards were legendary, daring to challenge the invincible Freehold Empire and boasting the glory of killing three Dragonlords.


    But there''s a saying in ancient Valyria: ��Wizards are not scary. They die if you cut off their heads.��


    Rhaegar''s fighting spirit zed as he looked across the Rhoyne to Sar Mell and shouted, ��Break into the city!��


    ��Roar!��


    Cannibal slowly flew up to the top of the city, contemptuously looking down at the poorly equipped defenders, and unleashed a jet of Dragonfire.


    Boom!


    The dark green Dragonfire swept across the city walls, shattering the gates.


    ...


    It waste at night, with the moon and stars shining brightly. The Sar Mell gate had fallen, and a new army was now stationed there. Two dragons soared low in the sky, cloaked in the night as they savored the bloodshed of the day.


    Inside the camp, within the general''s tent, Rhaegar leaned back in his chair, his head resting on his hands, eyes closed as he listened to Robb''s report on the battle.


    ��Your Grace, 90% of the casualties in this battle urred during the crossing of the river,�� Robb, covered in blood, reported. ��The Second Sons lost 200 men, and the Knights of the Vale lost 1,800 men, either killed, drowned, or seriously injured. In total, we killed 3,400 enemies.��


    Rhaegar nodded silently, waving him away. He had a good sense of the situation. Sar Mell had stationed 5,000 mercenaries and prepared hundreds of boats, oil, and bows and arrows in advance to maximize the loss of manpower as the Iron Throne''s army crossed the river.


    A dragon could burn a city, but it couldn''t conquer the Free Cities alone. Without soldiers, the Iron Throne''s initial attack on Vntis would fail. After all, gathering a new army would take more than half a year.


    ��What do you think? Should we rest up for a few days?�� Daemon asked from across the tent, his ck steel armor removed, revealing gauze wrapped around his arm. A thickyer of gauze, with blood oozing through in a plum blossom pattern.


    Rhaegar nced at him and said, ��No need. Our supplies won��tst for more than a few days.�� The attack on Vntis required a swiftnd and sea siege, much like the tactics used in the Myr siege. The Second Sons and the Knights of the Vale had traveled lightly, carrying only half a month��s worth of food and supplies across the Disputed Lands, appearing as swift as the wind. They aimed to upy the two towns on either side of the Rhoyne River as a supply base.


    Vntis wasn��t entirely foolish; they had taken advantage of the Rhoyne River. Volon Therys adopted a policy of non-resistance, moving their army out of the city before it was upied. Sar Mell made a desperate attempt to burn the granary before the city fell.


    Without a supply base, the army needed to capture Vntis quickly. Daemon, gauze tied around his mouth, took a sip from his wine cup. ��The soldiers have suffered greatly and are not suitable for continuedbat,�� he noted. Not only the soldiers but the dragons were also weary, especially with the appearance of the Rhoynar water wizard, who was as insidious as a snake in the dark.


    Rhaegar shook his head and smiled wryly. ��Instead of thinking about that, we should be thinking about how to attack Vntis.�� He didn''t care much about the soldiers'' lives; the main force consisted of the Vale faction, and it was they who had borne the brunt of the casualties. The Second Sons had supported them for so many years, it was only fair they made sacrifices now. When the war ended, the fertilends of the Disputed Lands could be divided up and given away.


    Daemon''s interest was piqued immediately. ��It''s easy to attack a city; it just depends on whether you want a ruin or a Free City,�� he remarked.


    Vntis'' outer walls weren''t very strong, except for the formidable ck Wall. However, burning a city had severe consequences. The loss of lives and the astronomical costs of rebuilding the Free Cities were daunting. When Rhaegar conquered Myr and Lys, both cities were severely damaged by dragons, requiring extensive and costly reconstruction financed by loans from the Iron Bank.


    Daemon had faced simr challenges. To suppress rebellion, Caraxes repeatedly burned parts of the cities, earning him a reputation as a "murderer" and "invader." Without sufficient funds, the Free Cities would remain in ruins. Even today, only the eastern part of Tyrosh, the most prosperous area with its port, had been restored, while the rest of the city remained a burnt-out wastnd.


    Rhaegar was acutely aware of the high costs associated with taking Vntis. He wondered if confiscating the Tiger and Elephant parties'' properties would suffice.


    ��Your Grace, someone is here to see you,�� a messenger announced from outside the tent.


    Rhaegar and Daemon exchanged curious nces. After suppressing the rebellion, unexpected visitors were rare.


    ��Send them in,�� Rhaegar ordered.


    A few momentster, the sound of rustling footsteps was heard, apanied by a strong scent of perfume. The tent curtain was lifted, revealing a beautiful red priestess in a red robe.


    Rhaegar frowned. ��Priestess, why are you here?��


    The red priestess removed her hood, revealing two tattoos of tears on her cheeks, and smiled charmingly. ��Of course, I wee His Majesty the Emperor back to Vntis.�� She stepped forward, her long, slender legs visible, and bowed respectfully.


    Daemon chuckled, ��The emperor of Vntis is attacking his own Free Cities.��


    Rhaegar''s face darkened. ��Priestess, make yourself clear.��


    The red priestess looked around before speaking. ��Your Grace, Vntis is not a monolithic entity. Many people are looking forward to your return.��


    Rhaegar didn''t buy it. ��The faction of the old nobles or the faction of the party of the people, just say it.��


    The red priestess, smiling, said, ��I don''t rule out the possibility that they admire you.��


    Rhaegar''s displeasure was evident. The red priestess quickly adjusted her demeanor, regaining herposure. ��The Lord of Light told me that he does not want Vntis reduced to ruins. He hopes a benevolent king will rule and allow the people to live in peace and security.��


    ��Do you have a n?�� Rhaegar asked directly.


    The red priestess'' eyes narrowed, and she said bluntly, ��Tesrio of the Tiger Party has formed an alliance with ver''s Bay. He has Braavos mercenaries under hismand, Qohor-made scorpion crossbows, and water wizards hired from Asshai. These wizards who manipte water magic are heretics who do not respect the Lord of Light.��


    She then added in a low voice, ��I can take you to the ck Wall, where the Elephant Party will hold a meeting to eliminate Tesrio and the heretical wizards.��

 Chapter 532: Rhoynish Relics

    Chapter 532: Rhoynish Relics


    Rhaegar remained silent, ncing at Daemon across from him. Both were analyzing the feasibility of the proposal. Daemon looked at the red priestess and said to his nephew, ��If I remember correctly, you are very repulsed by witches.��


    The implication was clear: she could not be trusted.


    The red priestess did not refute him, waiting quietly for an answer. Rhaegar thought for a moment and said calmly, ��Yes, but this method is effective.�� Minimizing losses and taking the city from within and without was a tempting strategy.


    ��It could be a trap,�� Daemon warned.


    ��This possibility cannot be ruled out,�� Rhaegar admitted.


    ��I don''t oppose it, but you have to think it through.�� Daemon frowned slightly, having little trust in the people of the Free Cities.


    Rhaegar looked directly into the eyes of the red priestess. He saw no trace of guilt, only the serenity of someone facing death. After a moment of hesitation, he asked tentatively, ��How many people can you bring?��


    The more people she brought, the less trustworthy she would appear.


    The red priestess looked at the uncle and nephew and revealed the truth: ��It''s best to go alone, and he must be a Targaryen.�� Without a Targaryen, the old nobility and the Elephant Party would not be at ease.


    Daemon tapped his fingers on the table and said calmly, ��I''ll go for you.��


    As a good nephew, the king should not take unnecessary risks.


    Rhaegar shook his head. ��I''ll go myself.��


    ��You should think carefully. There is a possibility that you will not return,�� Daemon warned.


    ��Uncle, you know me. It''s hard for ordinary people to hurt me.��


    Rhaegar made his decision. ��I will enter the ck Wall, and you willmand the army from the outside.��


    Daemon''s eyes shed, and he drained his cup in one gulp.


    ...


    The Summer Sea.


    ��Roar...�� Vhagar growled, and with a mighty p of its wings, the massive dragon soared into the sky, protecting a warship as it returned to the Disputed Lands.


    Laena felt extremely depressed, unwilling to leave the battlefield. The old dragon''s temper had worsened with age, and it would brook no offense, especially when faced with the water wizard from Rhoynar.


    It was as if it had encountered its natural enemy, making it easy for it to lose control again.


    Behind them, the Vryon fleet sailed in the opposite direction.


    On the deck, the Sea Snake stood beside Rhaenys, who gazed at the night sky, watching her daughter return home, guided by the stars.


    "It''s cold at night, Aunt," Daeron said, approaching with amp in hand tofort her.


    Rhaenys tightened her cloak and said casually, ��You''re right. A dragon is not afraid of fire, but it is afraid of the cold.��


    The Summer Sea, located in the tropics, had extreme temperature differences between day and night. The damp sea breeze at night could prate even the thickest armor.


    Rhaenys watched the shadow of Vhagar slowly disappear and suddenly remembered something. ��What was the name of the young man who saved Corlys during the day?��


    ��Addam,�� Daeron replied, smiling. ��He also saved Rhaena and Maekar.��


    It was clear from his tone that the two had a personal rtionship.


    Rhaenys frowned slightly, suspiciously asking, ��A bastard of Valyrian descent?��


    A bastard born in Hull, whose grandfather was a retired shipwright, and whose father was unknown. It felt a bit strange.


    At this point, she had to admit that women have a sixth sense.


    Daeron scratched his head and said honestly, ��Addam has another brother, both of whom are good sailors.��


    ��I see,�� Rhaenys said, stopping her line of thought. ��The fleet is approaching the port of Vntis. We may have to attack first.��


    Rhaegar and Daemon would take thend route, which would take longer. Before Vntis received news of the fleet''s destruction, they needed to catch them off guard.


    ��Yes, mydy,�� Daeron replied, descending the stairs with a serious expression on his face.


    ...


    The next night in Vntis, under the shadow of the ck Wall, a red priestess in a hood walked with a confident stride toward the city gate.


    ��Stop! Your token!�� A guard with a tiger face pattern on his armor stopped her and asked the usual questions.


    The red priestess tossed a token at them and said coldly, ��I��m here to attend Lord Tesrio��s meeting.��


    The guards exchanged nces, checked the token, and returned it to her.


    The red priestess raised her head and strode into the ck Wall.


    ��Wait!��


    She turned back, her face impassive. ��What?��


    The garrison members looked at each other in embarrassment, then pointed to the red priest beside the red priestess, hesitating, ��Who is he?��


    The red priest turned his head, revealing a weathered and sagging face.


    ��He is one of the priest of the Red Temple. What more proof is needed?�� The red priestess approached the guard, her presencepletely overwhelming him.


    The garrison member bowed his head, hurriedly saying, ��Let them pass!��


    ��Hmph!�� The red priestess snorted, and her figure gradually disappeared into the night.


    ...


    The headquarters building.


    The red priestess sessfully infiltrated the building with her token. Finding a hidden corner, she turned and said hurriedly, ��The Triarchof the Elephant Party hasn��t arrived yet, so things may change.��


    The red priest removed his hood, revealing a strand of silver hair as his cold voice replied, ��What difference does it make?�� He wiped his face, removing a human skin mask, and Rhaegar��s true face emerged.


    He had learned this technique from Syrio, but the materials for making the mask were hard to find.


    The red priestess looked around warily, her voice sharp, ��The old nobleman and the Elephant Party''s Triarchwill both bring teams of soldiers. Without simr support, escaping unscathed will be difficult.��


    ��It��s a piece of cake,�� Rhaegar replied, scanning the area before putting his hood back on. ��I��ll make my move when the council begins.�� With that, he climbed the stairs to the top of the tower.


    He had learned to kill at the age of six.


    The red priestess, impatient and puzzled by the confidence of a dragon rider without his dragon, hesitated for a moment before following the instructions and heading to the banquet hall.


    Tesrio, the Tiger Party��s Triarch, was a mboyant character who never left thepany of wine and women, always apanying meetings with banquets.


    ...


    Rhaegar didn''t bother to exin and slipped in unnoticed. When the water wizard from Rhoynar appeared, the Tiger Party, Elephant Party, and Tesrio were all secondary. He had to eliminate the threatening water wizards first.


    On the top floor, deep in the corridor, a footman carrying a tray of food descended the stairs with steady steps. Suddenly, a pair of hands reached out from behind.


    Snap!


    The neck snapped, and the corpsey on the ground, eyes wide open.


    "Sorry, you''re out of luck," Rhaegar sighed and closed his eyes briefly in remorse.


    He then entered the room the footman had just left. The wooden door emitted a faint scent of condensation, and the cool touch of the doorknob was incongruous with the sultry climate of Vntis.


    Rhaegar smiled and muttered, "I''ve got you."


    He gently pushed open the door. The room was empty, with only a set of tables and chairs. The doors and windows were all closed.


    ��Ahem...��


    A weak cough came from the bedroom. An old man''s voice followed, "Didn''t I say I couldn''t eat?"


    Rhaegar''s eyes darkened slightly. He walked lightly to the bedroom door and, through the gauze curtain, saw a frail old man in a gray robe. The old man''s eyes were cloudy, his sparse ck hair barely covering his scalp, and hey on the bed with no strength.


    At first nce, he looked very much like the old woman who had burned to death��both were Rhoynar with ck hair and olive skin.


    tter...


    The curtain lifted a corner, and a figure in a red robe walked in. The gray-robed old man realized something was wrong, looked up at the door, and immediately turned pale.


    "Mmmph!" He tried to call for the guards but was quickly silenced by a hand covering his mouth.


    Rhaegar smiled yfully, pinching the old man''s neck like a baby bird, and whispered, ��Be sensible, and you won''t suffer.��


    The gray-robed old man''s eyes bulged, and he shook his head vigorously, attempting to free himself.


    ��If you don''t want to toast, you''ll have to drink the poison wine,�� Rhaegar said coldly.


    Crack!


    The old man''s eyes widened in disbelief as his neck snapped. Rhaegar rubbed his hands in disgust and walked to the small dining table in the corner.


    A small table held a wine bottle and three low-ball sses. Sniffing each cup, he noticed the smell of wine mingled with the stench of something foul.


    ��Three people, at least two water wizards,�� Rhaegar muttered, ncing at a strange device on the table. It was a bronze vessel carved with the Rhoyne River and an old turtle in the middle.


    It looked like a basin and was filled with water. Rhaegar''s expression grew serious as he reached into the bronze basin and fished out a blue m.


    Suddenly, two system alerts sounded simultaneously.


    "This exploration mission is now open. The target is the sacred object of Rhoynar, the water bowl."


    "This exploration mission is now open. The target is the gift of the Rhoyne, the essence of the river."


    The system panel automatically appeared.


    [Water Purification Bowl] Exploration progress: 0.2% (suspended)


    [Essence of the River] Exploration progress: 0.5%


    Rhaegar quickly scanned the information, pleasantly surprised to find two relics to explore.


    Bang!


    The door burst open, and hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway. Rhaegar swiftly turned around and slipped the bronze basin into his space bracelet.

 Chapter 533: Volantis, Your Emperor is Back!

    Chapter 533: Vntis, Your Emperor is Back!


    ��Who��s there?��


    The door burst open, and two guards rushed in.


    Rhaegar nced at them and smiled crookedly. ��Just the two of you?��


    ��You�� it��s you.�� The tiger-faced guards stared in astonishment at the man before them, their sword-wielding hands trembling.


    Rhaegar��s eyes gleamed as he smiled. ��You recognize me.��


    The guard��s eyes were filled with confusion, and he swallowed hard, slowly backing away behind hispanion.


    ��Coward! Kill him!�� The first guard pushed his partner aside and charged forward, knife in hand, a murderous look in his eyes.


    ��Reckless,�� Rhaegar muttered, picking up a shard of ss from a broken cup and throwing it back at him.


    The guard took two steps forward before the shard shed his neck. He clutched his bleeding wound, horror spreading across his face.


    ��Ho ho...�� He turned to see his partner staggering out the door, already fleeing.


    Rhaegar pulled up his hood and pursued the other guard, saying indifferently, ��No one else wanted to do it, but you had to show off.��


    The first guard copsed with a thud, blood pouring from his seven orifices as life drained from him.


    ...


    The banquet hall was a scene of opulence and tension. Tesrio, nicknamed ��Tiger,�� sat at the head of the table, his eyes scanning the gathered guests. He was one of the old nobles and a Triarch of the Tiger Party, representing the powerful elite of Vntis. Around him were several high-ranking officials of the Elephant Party, who controlled the affairs of the Free Cities.


    "Bah!" Tesrio spat a mouthful of phlegm onto the floor, cursing the cook for the poor meal. He stretched out hisrge, calloused feet, slick with sweat. A ve girl knelt under the table, opening her arms to embrace his feet tenderly. Despite the prickly sensation of his sweat-soaked skin, she forced a smile, not daring to show any reluctance.


    Tesrio grunted in dissatisfaction and twisted his toes, grabbing two peaches and crushing them with a cruel twist. His feet, like his upper body, were covered in tattoos that gave him a ferocious appearance. Born from the lower rungs of society, he treated those beneath him even more harshly.


    "Tesrio, let''s get down to business!" An old nobleman, his face sour, rapped his fingers on the table iid with gold thread. The powerful naturally looked down on themon people.


    Tesrio''s face darkened, and he kicked the ve girl back under the tablecloth, causing her to yelp in pain. "Where is the Triarch of the Elephant Party? Why isn''t he here?" he muttered.


    The old nobleman shook his finger disapprovingly. "Who knows? Perhaps he''s afraid you''ll kill him."


    "Hmph, that''s just cowardice," Tesrio replied arrogantly, showing no respect. He often mocked the old nobleman when he felt like it.


    The old nobleman''s face remained gloomy, but he dared not react, fearing retribution. The red priestess stood behind the old nobleman by a pir, asionally ncing at Tesrio''s back. Two gray-robed water wizards nked her, their hands crossed in their sleeves, surrounded by an unpleasant mist.


    Tesrio''s arrogance was bolstered by the support of ver''s Bay, other Free Cities, and the water wizards recruited from Asshai. Wizards were rare in any era, and with a few water wizards to protect him, he felt invincible.


    ...


    In the hall and corridor, a figure in a red robe stood silently, watching the scene unfold. Ignoring the passing servants, he observed the growing tension in the room. As the conversation continued, emotions escted.


    The old nobleman stood up and shouted, "Are you out of your mind? You''re pitting all of Vntis against the Iron Throne. Remember what happened to the Triarchy!"


    Tesrio''s eyes narrowed. "Rhaegar the Cruel. He conquered the Triarchy, and sooner orter he will strike at Vntis."


    "That''s nonsense!" the old nobleman retorted, his mustache bristling. He resorted to foulnguage, his frustration boiling over. The discussion had reached an impasse; war seemed inevitable.


    One side was an ambitious war party, the other cautious fence-sitters clinging to their territory. It was hard to tell who was right.


    Pop!


    Tesrio lunged at the old nobleman, smashing his head against the table. The nobleman''s eyes widened in shock and disbelief before his head burst like a watermelon, adding a gruesome new dish to the table.


    Several Elephant Party officials recoiled in terror, pushing their chairs back, fearing they might be next.


    Tesrio wiped the blood from his face with a grim expression. ��Who is for and who is against Vntis fighting the Iron Throne?��


    The hall fell silent.


    The Elephant Party officials trembled like quails, fearing the oue. Vntis''s defiance of the Iron Throne had turned it into the battleground together with the ver''s Bay, and everyone knew war would bring disaster.


    Tesrio, a mercenary who had long been exploiting Vntis and the Free Cities, would still livefortably even if Vntis was reduced to ruins. But the wealthy Elephant Party officials, native-born Vntians, would beckeys if their city turned into a wastnd.


    Bang!


    Tesrio mmed his fist on the table. ��Speak up! Do you hear me?��


    The Elephant Party officials trembled, on the verge of crying out. They realized they were nothing more than cannon fodder, and now even the old nobleman, a genuine Triarch,y dead.


    As the situation crumbled, a figure in a red robe stepped forward.


    ��Tesrio, do you remember me?�� Rhaegar smiled, walking out leisurely.


    Hla...


    A group of guards rushed out, surrounding the hall.


    Tesrio looked at Rhaegar in surprise, his tiger-tattooed face showing signs of panic. He shouted, a mixture of anger and surprise in his voice, ��Rhaegar Targaryen, you think this is the rat''s nest of King''s Landing, where you cane and go as you please!��


    Despite his bravado, his legs were shaking. He had not forgotten who had put him in his position as Triarch.


    ��Everyone, go! Catch the traitor!�� Tesrio motioned for the guards to arrest Rhaegar, silently stepping back to hide behind the two water wizards.


    The guards, numbering no less than 20 or 30, all elite soldiers with tiger tattoos on their faces, surrounded Rhaegar, who stood alone.


    ��Surrender, Your Majesty...�� the captain of the guards began, but froze, quickly swallowing back the words ��Your Grace.��


    Swish!


    The remaining guards drew back their swords and shields slowly, their expressions tense.


    Rhaegar nced at the Elephant Party officials and then looked sideways at the red priestess, calmly saying, ��The allies you chose are really hard to describe.��


    The red priestess, cornered by two guards, barely managed to remain calm. ��You are the true dragon. A hint of dragon''s might is not something mere mortals can touch.��


    Internally, she was cursing the chaotic turn of events.


    Rhaegar snorted and shook his head. ��Then let me show you what a true dragon is like.��


    His manner was rxed, his tone gentle. He was calm and collected, as if he were facing a chicken or a dog.


    Plop!


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed, and the hangingntern above his head crashed down, the candlelight spreading like a living spirit.


    ��Be careful!�� Tesrio was startled and called out to the water wizards to fight the enemy.


    ��It��s useless.�� Rhaegar smiled faintly. With a flick of his wrist, he drew Truefyre and drove the de into the floor.


    Boom!


    Two red tongues of fire shot out from the center of the de, enveloping the entire hall in an instant. The entire hall was sealed off by mes.


    ��Mother Rhoyne, give us your power...�� The two water wizards�� expressions changed drastically as they hurriedly cast their spells. First, they overturned the wine jugs, and the spilled wine began to change shape, summoning water magic to counter the restless fire.


    "It''s toote."


    Rhaegar, as if he were in his own world, unsheathed his de and dragged it across the floor, leaving scorch marks and trailing sparks. The surrounding guards, unable to withstand the intense heat, began to suffer from oxygen deficiency. Weapons ttered to the ground as the guards fell to their knees, rolling their eyes in agony.


    Rhaegar paid them no heed and walked straight toward the two water wizards. He was no novice Dragonlord without a dragon. His mercy and reason had led him to abandon the dragons and avoid burning the city. But the moment he infiltrated the ruling building, the oue was sealed.


    "Old man in the river... river spirit..." The gray-robed wizard chanted fervently, and the liquid shapes of the spirits began to move in strange, twisted ways. Another water wizard was also struggling, attempting to draw water magic from the air to counter the heat wave.


    "In the name of the Lord of Light, punish the heretics!" The red priestess suddenly emerged, taking a handful of powder from her chest and throwing it into the fire circle, causing the mes to intensify.


    Pop!


    The gray-robed wizard spat out a mouthful of blood, and the liquid humanoid he was conjuring crumbled into a puddle of water. Rhaegar nced at him sideways and, with a swift motion, beheaded him with a single stroke. The ck-haired head rolled to the ground, and the mes devoured the deathly expression.


    "No! Don''te any closer!" The remaining water wizard was extremely nervous, desperately trying to intimidate Rhaegar by concentrating two ice spears in his palms.


    ng! ng!


    Rhaegar quickened his pace and shattered the ice spears with two swift shes. "Die, bastard!" he spat. The ck de pierced through the wizard''s mouth and out the back of his head. The corpse fell, blood sizzling and evaporating on the floor.


    Rhaegar then turned his gaze to thest remaining adversary, Tesrio, a kind smile spreading across his face. "Rhaegar the Cruel?"


    "Gulp..." Tesrio swallowed hard and drew his curved knife, trembling in fear.


    ...


    Vntis, Outer City Wall


    ��Roar...�� Caraxes crouched on the ground, perpetually on guard.


    Robb approached the Blood Wyrm and shouted, ��Your Grace, the King has been in the city for too long. We can''t wait any longer.��


    Daemon sat on his saddle, his eyes fixed on the distant ck Wall. ording to the n, his nephew would take control of the government building and release the signal. It was already past noon, and there was still no news.


    Robb, concerned for the king''s safety, continued to plead, ��Vntis is a tiger pit. We can''t leave His Grace alone.��


    ��Shut up, bastard,�� Daemon snapped, irritated by the incessant noise.


    Robb fumed, tempted to throw House ckwood crest in the prince''s face.


    Daemon''s gaze remained fixed on the night sky over Vntis. He often wondered just how powerful his nephew truly was. The strength Rhaegar disyed at the tournament seemed too restrained, probably not even half of what he was capable of. Taking a city without the aid of a dragon would be a miraculous feat.


    Suddenly, a burst of fire shot up into the sky. Within the ck Wall, the ruling building burned fiercely, illuminating the midsummer night of Vntis.


    ��Prince!�� Robb eximed, instantly excited.


    ��Attack, Caraxes!�� Daemonmanded.


    The Blood Wyrm writhed into the air, a fearsome sight against the night sky.


    Boom!


    Dragonfire consumed the city gate, and Robb led the 600 men of the Second Sons into the city, their determined charge marking the beginning of the assault.


    ...


    Inside the ck Wall


    The fire zed, illuminating the night like a second sun. Garrison soldiers and guards scrambled into action, while old and new nobles, along with wealthy merchants, fled in panic. A crowd began to gather near the building.


    Bang!


    The tightly shut door burst open, and several disheveled figures emerged, covered in dust and dirt. Behind them, Rhaegar strode forward, expressionless, brandishing his sword Truefyre, and dragging a half-dead body, its entrails trailing behind.


    Someone with sharp eyes immediately recognized the body: ��Tesrio! He''s dead!��


    Tesrio had lost an arm, his lower body was missing, and his eyes were wide open in terror. Rhaegar dragged him by one arm, leaving a trail of intestines on the floor.


    More and more people gathered, drawn by the unexpected fire. Among them were senior officials and wealthy merchants, their hearts pounding as they stopped to watch. There were hundreds of them.


    Rhaegar walked towards the crowd, his eyes unruffled. He flung the remains of Tesrio''s corpse to the ground, every movement radiating arrogance.


    Wow!


    The crowd took a few steps back, their eyes finally recognizing the figure with silver hair and purple eyes. An uproar ensued.


    Rhaegar tilted his head, wiped the blood from his cheeks with his fingertips, and said calmly, ��Vntis, your emperor is back!��


    Hoo-hoo!


    A ck dragon''s shadow whistled past, descending upon the burning tower behind him. Its green pupils glowed likenterns, guiding the souls of the dead.

 Chapter 534: Helaena is Not a Fool

    Chapter 534: Hena is Not a Fool


    ��Roar...��


    The shrill roar of the Blood Wyrm echoed around the ck Wall as it descended.


    tter...


    The crowd knelt in unison, their faces filled with fear as they gazed at the man and dragon before the tower. Rhaegar stood silently, epting their reverence.


    From the moment he encountered the first guard, he knew the people of Vntis had not forgotten their former emperor, even if his reign had been brief and fleeting.


    Among the crowd, an old man crawled forward, tears streaming from his eyes. ��Your Grace, I am grateful to you for killing Tesrio,�� he said, his voice trembling with emotion.


    With this promation, the power dynamic was clear. The garrison and guards, seeing the tide had turned, abandoned their weapons and knelt in respect.


    Though the title of emperor might have once been considered a joke, the influence of the emperor��s authority had left asting impact on Vntis. The reduction of the division between the eastern and western districts, the cleanup of the harbor, and the suppression of deep-rooted crime were all Rhaegar��s initiatives, carried out by the Triarch of the Elephant Party for ten years. Even if the Triarchs had beenzy, these policies still left a significant mark on themon people and the ve ss.


    Rhaegar, with Truefyre with both hands, dered resolutely, ��From this day forth, Vntis is under the protection and jurisdiction of the Iron Throne!��


    Boom!


    Cannibal leaped from the building,nding with a resounding thud and looking up at the sky with itsrge, green eyes. With a single leap, the already precarious power copsed, exploding into a different kind of fireworks.


    ��Long live Your Grace, the Emperor!��


    ��Long live the Dragonlord!��


    The crowd erupted with emotion, shouting for the emperor at the top of their lungs, gazing at the man and the dragon with a mixture of fanaticism and worship.


    From the beginning, the people of Vntis had never wanted war. The Free Cities had once been purged of corruption by Rhaegar, allied with the Triarchy to trade and prosper together. Turning against each other was less appealing than uniting under a true Dragonlord.


    Rhaegar''s stern face finally revealed a hint of a smile.


    On the ck Wall, Caraxes crawled slowly, like arge blood-colored snake. Daemon looked down at his nephew, who was receiving the worship of the people, with aplex expression. What truly defines kingship?


    Boom!


    The ck Wall gate opened, and warriors in red robes rushed in. Each bore a tattoo of a ming sword, armed with spears and round shields. They were the Hand of the Holy Fire of the Temple of R''hllor.


    Rhaegar nced at them, thinking, Heree the ones who will clean up the mess.


    With an inside ally and an outside army, Vntis had changed hands.


    ...


    The Next Day


    The Triarch of the Elephant Party, His Residence


    In the serene garden, birds chirped harmoniously. Rhaegar reluctantly woke up, his eyes still half-closed.


    A system prompt echoed in his mind.


    ��This exploration isplete. Please pick up the lost treasure.��


    ��...��


    Two beeps followed in session.


    Rhaegar rubbed his eyes and reached for the t surface of the bed. Therey a bronze basin and a blue m shell, along with two halos of different sizes, one red and one blue.


    Bo~


    The red and blue light points exploded, transforming into small balls of bright light that eagerly nestled into his palm.


    ��Relic sessfully retrieved, testing in progress...��


    ��Detection sessful. Determined to be a legendary relic: the Attachment of Rhoynar.��


    ��Detection sessful. Determined to be a rare relic: the Spiritual Orb.��


    Rhaegar nced around, finding himself in a cleared tower. He whispered, ��Legendary and rare. The Rhoynar really have something.��


    A blue drop of water and a blue crystal ball materialized in front of him. The water drop, ��Rhoynar''s Attachment,�� was soft and cool to the touch, resembling a sapphire ornament.


    He called up the system panel and recorded the trigger word for the relic.


    ��The Water wizards of Rhoynar are the stalwarts shields against the Dragonlords, destined to carry the waters of the Rhoyne in their veins.��


    Rhaegar tilted his head in confusion and dropped the blue water drop into the bronze basin.


    Drip drip...


    The water rippled, and light rain fell along the edge of the basin. But nothing changed.


    Undeterred, Rhaegar ordered his servants to fetch something. He then examined the bronze basin, the blue pearl, and the spirit pearl. The bronze basin, a ��sacred object,�� reminded him of the fiery red heart iid at the end of the Truefyre sword.


    Using the basin to wash his face, he felt refreshed and invigorated. On a whim, he scooped up a spoonful of the water and drank it. The water was cold and slightly sweet, dispelling his fatigue.


    ��It''s delicious,�� Rhaegar said approvingly. Whether the basin held any other powers was uncertain, but the water it contained was definitely extraordinary. It seemed to possess a trace of magic, promising to nourish the Spirit and repair hidden wounds in the body with prolonged consumption.


    After securing the bronze basin, Rhaegar dered with certainty, "It''s a treasure. I wouldn''t trade it for a Free City." He intended to take it back to share with his wife and children.


    Next, he turned his attention to the blue m shell and the spiritual pearl. The m shell appeared ordinary, but upon closer inspection, Rhaegar noticed it contained a hidden reservoir of water magic.


    ��A magic m''s pearl?�� Rhaegar mused, recalling the legends of the Rhoynar. During the Age of the Free Cities, magical tides surged, filling the world with mystical creatures. In Westeros, the children of the forest and giants lived together. In the North, the Iron Inds, and the Vale, direwolves, sea monsters, and shadow cats roamed freely.


    Over time, as the tide of magic ebbed, humans became dominant, and these magical beings faded into history. Before the Battle of the Rhoyne, Dragonlords had hunted a giant turtle called the ��Old Man of the River�� in the Rhoyne, sparking a bloody battle that shook the world. This indicated the abundance of magical creatures in ancient timespared to now.


    "Another valuable find," Rhaegar concluded, tucking away the magic m. He regretted slightly that while the Magic Pearl could store magic, it seemed suited only for water magic. Being a fire mage, it wasn''tpatible with his abilities.


    Finally, he examined the spirit orb. Rhaegar scrutinized it repeatedly before concluding, "A one-time relic." The orb was small, about the size of a fingertip. His eyes gleamed as he lightly squeezed it. With a crack, the orb shattered, releasing a wisp of blue silk-like magic that quickly turned fiery red.


    Whoosh! The magic prated Rhaegar''s chest. His spirit was invigorated as the fire magic in his blood surged and poured into his chest. Thud! Thud! His heart pounded wildly, and a small vortex formed, devouring all the fire magic in his blood. Rhaegar was astonished; he had never experienced anything like this.


    Thump! Thump! With each heartbeat, the vortex rotated, purifying the fire magic and mixing it back into his bloodstream. This process continued until the amount of fire magic in his blood vessels had decreased. However, the previously restless fire magic had be unusually docile, like a hunting dog that had been tamed.


    Creak! The door opened, and a servant entered, carrying a ck-haired human head. The head was olive-skinned, and the brain cavity was empty.


    ...


    Lys, Topless Tower.


    Knock, knock!


    The door was knocked on, and Hena called out, ��Who is it? Come in.��


    Creak. The door opened, and Mysaria, the White Worm, stood there with her slightly swollen belly.


    ��What are you doing here?�� Hena asked, seated on the floor, busy sewing little clothes. The two of them had nomon ground and couldn��t get along.


    Mysaria, the White Worm, appeared calm. ��Laena is back, with Corlys Vryon, who is seriously injured.��


    Hena turned around instantly, her nervousness evident. ��How is he?��


    ��Don��t worry, he��s fine, better than anyone else,�� Mysaria replied as she walked into the room, her eyes fixed on Hena. She said tentatively, ��You care a lot about your brother, even more than you care about other people��s opinions.��


    Hena frowned, suspicious. ��What are you trying to say?�� Her brother was fine. Why was Mysaria here?


    Mysaria stroked her stomach. ��We are both second wives. We should help each other.��


    Hena��s frown deepened, and she gripped the long knitting needles in her hands. Mysaria sat down on the floor, maintaining a calm expression. ��We can''tpete with the first Lady. You are a thorn in Rhaenyra''s side, aren''t you?��


    ��No!�� Hena retorted with contempt. ��My brother loves me more than Daemon loves you, and I have no intention of undermining Rhaenyra''s position.��


    Mysaria was speechless. She hadn��t expected the usually talkative Hena to be so sharp-tongued.


    Hena turned her head and issued a curtmand. ��Get out and don��te back.��


    Did Mysaria really think she was a fool? Rhaenyra had a firstborn and a secondborn as heirs, so she didn��t care about Hena��s children. And for some reason, Rhaenyra��s resistance to her was far less than Lady Jeyne of the Vale��s.


    When Rhaenyra learned of her pregnancy, she had a room specially fitted out for her in Summerhall and brought all her usual femalepanions and courtiers to Lys. Her attitude was clear: she was happy to ept the birth of the child in Hena��s womb. Under these circumstances, and since she had no intention ofpeting for favor, why bother with the precarious White Worm? The dragon has three heads and they don''t bite each other.


    Mysaria, the White Worm, froze in ce, unable to move. Daemon was leading the dragon on a campaign, and she felt like she was in constant danger.


    She had tried to contact Lady Jeyne in the Vale, hoping for some camaraderie as they were both third parties rejected by the original wife. Unfortunately, The Eyrie did reply, but the letter was written to Princess Lyanna, ending with a special message: "An eagle does not associate with worms."


    Early that morning, Laena had returned to Lys on Vhagar, bringing with her the badly injured and dying Lord of Driftmark. Mysaria, the White Worm, thought her chance hade. She took a risk and tried to win over the young princess Hena, but was rejected even more decisively.


    Hena clenched her long needle, muttering, ��Go away, don''t bother me,�� as she tried to keep herposure. She was afraid that if Mysaria stayed any longer, she would lose control andsh out. Pregnancy had made her nerves very sensitive.


    Mysaria, the White Worm, stared at her for a long time, then got up in a daze. Born lowly, inferior to everyone, she couldn''t even find a decent ally.


    Creak!


    The door opened, and two figures happened to block the way.


    ��White Worm?�� Rhaenyra frowned immediately and checked to see if Hena was all right on the carpet. Hena only nced at the three of them and then resumed sewing her little dress as if it were none of her business.


    Rhaenyra red at Mysaria, the White Worm, and demanded, ��Mysaria, what are you doing in Hena''s room?�� Rhaegar had entrusted her with Hena''s care before he left, and she was determined not to fail him.


    Mysaria, the White Worm, was nervous but forced herself to look the two people in front of her in the eye. Laena, in her red armor, gazed at her coldly and steely.


    ...


    As dusk fell, the sun began to set. In the bedroom where the model sailboat hung, the Sea Snake, with lips as pale as blood,y on his back on the couch.


    ��How is it?�� Laena asked impatiently.


    Hena looked up at her, locked eyes, and said, ��He''s not the type of Vryon who would die in his bed.�� A serpent with no eyes or ears crawled across her palm, hissing.

 Chapter 535: Blood Purification

    Chapter 535: Blood Purification


    Laena''s heart skipped a beat at Hena''s bare stare, and she couldn''t help but take a half step back. She hesitated for a second, her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.


    Hena looked away and said, ��Lord Corlys will recover soon. I''ll be going now.�� She left without waiting to be stopped.


    Laena''s hand, which was halfway raised, froze in mid-air. She said awkwardly, ��She''s still so shy.��


    ��Hena has only ever been close to Rhaegar since she was a child,�� Rhaenyra, feeling a twinge of jealousy, remarked. ��Don''t disturb Lord Corlys''s rest. Tell me about the battlefield.��


    ��Okay,�� Laena replied, shifting her focus.


    ...


    They moved to a different bedroom. After sending the children out to y, Rhaenyra and Laena sat down to chat. They talked about the battlefield, and Rhaenyra was shocked. She also wanted to go to war, but Rhaegar had arranged for her to stay in Lys because Hena was pregnant. Syrax was not as big as Vhagar or Meleys and had not fought in many battles.


    Creak! Johanna pushed open the door and entered, carrying a tray with wine. Laena looked at Rhaenyra, who nodded slightly in preparation.


    Laena was relieved and asked Johanna, ��Has the White Worm made any moves recently?��


    Johanna lowered her eyes and replied, ��The White Worm sent a letter to Tyrosh summoning some of her old subordinates.��


    ��Is that all?�� Laena was doubtful. As far as she knew, Mysaria, the White Worm, had a group of orphans and many other partners in the shadows.


    Johanna thought for a moment and whispered, ��The White Worm also sent a letter to The Eyrie in secret, but never received a reply.��


    Laena was taken aback and looked sideways at Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra took a sip of wine and said, ��House Arryn has always been proud, and they choose their allies carefully. If Jeyne were to ally with Mysaria, the White Worm, she would not be worthy of the title of Lady of the Vale.��


    Laena quickly understood the reason. Rhaenyra looked at Johanna and asked, ��What else do you know? Tell me everything.�� She wanted to reassure her friend.


    Johanna replied truthfully, ��The White Worm''s roots are shallow, and her intelligencework is limited to King''s Landing and Tyrosh.��


    Rhaenyra thought for a moment and then said, ��She went to Hena to win her over as well?��


    ��Desperate times call for desperate measures,�� Laena said helplessly. Don''t look at Hena, who is always so dazed and confused, like a little transparent. She is the only sane person in the entire House Targaryen. It''s not possible to drag her down.


    Johanna''s eyes shed, and she volunteered, ��The White Worm''s belly is getting bigger every day, and the Maester thinks it''s probably a boy.��


    Laena''s expression tightened, and she clenched her fingers around the wine cup.


    Johanna continued in a low voice, ��Lord Corlys is injured, and the White Worm will not miss the opportunity to get an ally. Prince Daemon has not yet named Lady Ba as his heir.��


    The reason is that the White Worm has a boy in her belly. Laena''s eyes darkened as she retorted, ��My father will recover soon, and the White Worm is nothing more than a clown.��


    Johanna tilted her head slightly, and a sh of light appeared in her eyes. The other party''s words focused on the Sea Snake as a father, not on Daemon as a husband. This was already very telling.


    Rhaenyra could hear the allure in Johanna''s words and reached out to hold her friend''s hand, noticing how pale it had be. Laena looked up nkly, seeking reassurance.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes were firm, and her voice was resolute: "Think carefully about your decision and never regret it."


    Laena lowered her head, falling into deep self-doubt. Before she saw the face in front of her, her decision had been to keep the child and stay with deal with the mother. But when she saw the White Worm, she knew what she would feel.


    Johanna''s reminder was almost imperceptible: "White Worms have many enemies. If you''re not careful..." She was being very concise. Johanna pursed her lips and looked at Laena with a piercing gaze. Both were members of the Lys parliament, and they knew each other very well. They understood what she meant.


    Laena''s face paled at the news. Once and for all, she seemed more reliable. Rhaenyra quickly squeezed her hand and reminded her, "Be reasonable. Don''t be a fool and go against the tide."


    Anyone who kills the White Worm is a fool. Laena suddenly realized and was shocked, "You''re right, I can''t go back on my word."


    To murder an unborn child is against honor and belief. It was Daemon''s fault for pointing the de at the innocent. Rhaenyra let out a sigh of relief and turned to Johanna with a warning, "Get out and don''t disturb us."


    Johanna was quiet and quietly left the bedroom. Laena was puzzled and wondered about Johanna''s attitude. Rhaenyra sighed softly and exined, "Johanna is from House Swann in Stonehelm. The previous Lord Swann was reluctant to pay the ransom and let her go astray, but she still longed to return to her family to prove herself."


    "After House Swann was destroyed, her vision for the first half of her life was shattered. For this reason, she is very hostile to Aemond, Laenor, and the Stornds, who caused the destruction of her house."


    Laena was shocked and hesitated, "But Laenor..."


    Rhaenyra shrugged and said helplessly, "She also resents Rhaegar for harboring Aemond, so she feels justified in taking care of Lys for me."


    She told it like it was, and the ck Swan''s talent and skill were rare in the world. She was reluctant not to use her, yet afraid to use her to the fullest. She was just right for the position of a housekeeper.


    ...


    Across the Narrow Sea, at Storm''s End.


    ��Ga-ga-ga...�� A ck raven cawed and flew into a tower. In the bedroom, two intertwined bodies stirred. The ravennded on the headboard of the bed, pping its wings.


    ��Ha~�� Aemond gasped, struggling to rise from the bed, his one eye clearing as he came to his senses. ��Where did the ravene from?��


    A soft, tender voice emerged from beneath the covers, filled with dissatisfaction. Aemond did not reply, but instead cast a cold nce. The sapphire in his eye glowed with a sinister light.


    Floris immediately lowered her head and pulled the thin quilt over her body.


    ��Ga-ga...�� The raven continued its cawing as Aemond calmly took the letter box and swatted the bird away. It flew out of the room in a rage. He opened the box and pulled out a letter.


    Aemond read it carefully, his expression growing more incredulous with each word. ��Sea Snake is wounded, Vntis has surrendered,�� he muttered. More intriguingly, Laena had left the battlefield for unknown reasons.


    Aemond''s spirit lifted, and he rolled out of bed, rummaging through his pockets. Soon, he pulled out a roll of paper��Daemon''s reply from the day before. The response had rejected his offer of dragon-riding assistance and wasced with sarcasm.


    Aemond held the two pieces of paper side by side, murmuring, ��By the time Daemon replied, Laena had already withdrawn, and Vntis had surrendered.�� The raven had taken at least half a month to deliver the message across the sea. The Battle of Vntis was only the first major engagement of the war, with subsequent attacks on ver''s Bay and the Smoking Sea also nned.


    Daemon had known that Laena had withdrawn and that there were not enough dragon riders on the front, yet he had still refused Aemond''s offer and mocked him in his letter.


    Aemond''s eyes zed with rage, the humiliation too much to bear. He punched the bed with all his might. A muffled thud resounded, and a trickle of blood ran down his fist. The one-eyed man red, teeth clenched. ��Daemon, you''re a good uncle!�� he spat.


    Floris, frightened by his sudden outburst, screamed, unsure of what her lover was thinking.


    ��Get out of here!�� Aemond''s anger clouded his mind. He hastily dressed, then pushed open the door and stormed out. Floris reacted btedly, asking in surprise, ��Where are you going?��


    ��Lys!�� Aemond said through gritted teeth. The door mmed shut, and Floris, left alone, shuddered again, tears brimming in her eyes as she muttered, ��Daemon, Lys...��


    ...


    Vntis


    In a sunny mansion, beside a stream and a garden, Rhaegar sat in the pavilion fishing.


    Ssh! The hook sank to the bottom of the water.


    "Good hook, urate and steady," Rhaegar murmured with a smile. He ced the green bamboo fishing rod on hisp and reached into the bronze water basin to stir the water. The basin was clear, and two three-inch silver fish jumped about energetically.


    After a hard morning, he had two small fish to show for his efforts. Rhaegar was pleased with himself. He picked up one of the fish and examined it closely. "Hmm, the damage to the scales is gone, and it''s even more spirited."


    When he first caught it, it had looked like a dead fish, belly up. But after two hours in the water basin, it was full of life. Rhaegar snapped his fingers, and a small me enveloped the little fish. In a short while, the sizzling sound of the fat was gone, and the live fish had be a grilled fish.


    After making sure there was nothing unsavory in the fish''s belly, he threw it into his mouth. Rhaegar''s eyes were full of anticipation. After a slow and careful bite, he gave his verdict: "It''s delicious, but it doesn''t taste like anything special."


    But that wasn''t the point.


    Rhaegar closed his eyes and felt his heartbeat. A small whirlpool slowly rotated, circting the fire magic in his blood, purifying it to the tips of his fingers. The fish entered his stomach and broke down into a wisp of magic. The magic entered his bloodstream through the digestive system and was refined by the beating of his heart until only a trace remained. At this point, the process of growing magic wasplete.


    Rhaegar opened his eyes and let out a breath. "Spiritual Orb, you have helped me open up a new channel to master the power of fire." The small vortex in his heart had appeared, and he realized how out of practice he was with fire magic. It was likeparing a toddler to a hyena��one was in heaven, the other in hell. Even using the seven-fireball technique, he could not muster even a tenth of his fire magic.


    "A qualitative leap," Rhaegar murmured, his joy barely contained. "Now, I am a true Pyromancer. Before, I was just a pretender."


    He reached for the second fish, but a voice interrupted him. ��Your Grace, the Vryon fleet has docked at the harbor and the ministers are waiting for you,�� his attendant announced from behind.


    Rhaegar paused and responded in a low voice, ��I know. Tell them I''ll be there as soon as possible.��


    As the attendant left, Rhaegar smacked his lips, threw the second fish into the stream, and retrieved the bronze basin and fishing rod. The basin''s power was limited; it couldn''t nourish the little fish indefinitely, nor could the thin magic it provided sustain them. However, the fishing rod was handmade and worth keeping.


    The moment the bronze basin disappeared into thin air, a blue drop of water fell. Rhaegar reached out to catch it, and a system prompt sounded in his ear.


    "Congrattions, the Rhoynar''s Attachment has been activated, and you have obtained..."


    [Pure Water]


    Level: Legendary (Red)


    Effect: +100% toxin resistance


    Comment: ��The purest water in the world, purifying all imperfections and diseases.��


    The blue water droplet shook, its shell shattered like dust, and it flew away with the wind. With a pop, it turned into a full, real water droplet.


    Before Rhaegar could react, the water droplet trembled and entered his mouth, sliding down his throat into his stomach. The sensation was strange and slippery, reminiscent of what Rhaenyra had described as an ufortable experience between the sheets.


    Rhaegar didn''t have time to ponder it. He closed his eyes and let out a faint groan, feeling a tremor from the depths of his soul, as if washing away the dirt from his body. Unconsciously, his Dragonborn form manifested.


    ck scales appeared on his forehead, and ck fire burned in his eyes. A deformed horn emerged, shaking as if a worm gnawed at it, and then it fell off naturally.

 Chapter 536: Blood and the Cook

    Chapter 536: Blood and the Cook


    Rhaegar felt a lightness in his head and froze for a moment. He reached out and touched it. The scales were smooth, leaving small rough pits.


    "Is something wrong with me?" Rhaegar was stunned, and for the first time, he felt a sense of regret for the deformed horns. Suddenly, a sharp point poked out from his head.


    Rhaegar quickly turned around, and the reflection in the stream showed his face. A pitch-ck horn was growing back at a speed visible to the naked eye. Hard, curved, forked... It looked like a real dragon horn.


    Momentarily distracted, Rhaegar touched the new horn again and again.


    Pop! A small silver fish released from the water swam out, causing a slight ripple.


    Rhaegar finally came back to his senses and immediately checked the Explorer''s System panel.


    Rhaegar Targaryen


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold)


    Bloodline: Dragonborn (+57%)


    Runes: Serpent (Blue), Bronze (Green)


    Blood Sorcery: Seven Fireballs (Green), Binding Spell (Blue)


    Relics: Blood and Fire (Fire Resistance +100%), Pure Water (Toxin Resistance +100%)...


    Comment: ��An ancient lineage, in a noble house.��


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened in shock. The bloodline column had increased from (53%) to (+57%), and more numbers were likely toe.


    "Pure water, Is it purifying my bloodline?" he whispered, stroking the three-inch long ck dragon horn, his heart filled with awe.


    It wasn''t just the improvement in his bloodline. After reaching 50% or more, every jump in the numbers was a difficult feat. This purification was also unexpected. What surprised him was that the bloodline seemed to have been refined.


    The original deformed horns had fallen off, and real dragon horns had grown back. The bloodline''s restlessness and negative emotions did not manifest themselves in the dragonborn form again.


    Rhaegar touched his chest. His heart beat steadily and powerfully, without any sign of a side effect.


    The pure water suppressed the negative state of the dragon blood. Or, it purified the impurities in the blood.


    Rhaegar thought about it and whispered, ��Impure blood?��


    It couldn''t be! If his bloodline was impure, there would be no pure-blood Dragonlords in the world. Baelon and Aemon were conceived before his transformation into a dragonborn, and their natural talents were already very superior. The youngest, Maekar, was conceived after his transformation into a dragon and was born with an ambiguous ability to foresee things. It can be seen that his bloodline is stable and unproblematic.


    Rhaegar thought deeply and said in a daze, ��If it''s not my problem, then is it the source of the bloodline?��


    If there is a problem with the source of the bloodline, then the offspring will have side effects. But how did the Dragonlords obtain their dragon blood? The story that a group of Valyrian shepherds discovered dragons and were able to tame them is a far-fetched historical ount. The real situation is probably another source.


    Plop! A little fish leaped out of the water, sshing a puddle on his cheeks. Rhaegar suddenly realized that he was dreaming awake andughed, ��You''re thinking too much.��


    Ancient Valyria had already been destroyed, and the truth could no longer be ascertained. The bloodline had been purified, so he could continue to refine it with confidence. What would it be like if one day the bloodline was purified to 100%?


    Rhaegar smiled in relief and turned to walk onto the bridge: ��I''m sure I''ll find something interesting on my trip to the Smoking Sea.��


    He was determined to take the ver''s Bay. The Smoking Sea would also be brought under the rule of the Iron Throne. Whoever dared to resist would not escape Dragonfire.


    ...


    Lys, off the Coast


    "Roar!"


    An ungainly mud dragon leapt across the Narrow Sea, sneaking into the Free Cities. Its behavior was furtive, almost as if it feared being discovered by humans.


    Aemond scowled and pped the itchy scales of his dragon, shouting, "Stop fooling around, Sheepstealer."


    "Roar~~"


    Sheepstealer grumbled in protest andnded clumsily in the Dragonpit. It whinnied, resembling a disgruntled young dragon barely seven or eight meters long.


    ...


    Topless Tower, Bedroom


    Hena, exhausted, was sewing a little girl''s dress.


    Knock, knock!


    The knock on the door was familiar.


    Hena turned her head, confused. "Aemond, is that you?"


    Creak!


    Aemond pushed the door open and entered, head bowed. "It''s me, sister."


    "You��re supposed to be patrolling the upper part of the Narrow Sea." Hena stood up, tilting her head in confusion. "Why did youe back? ying the little brat again?"


    She knew her brother��s personality all too well. He was just like Uncle Daemon, always acting like a spoiled child.


    "Nothing, just came back to see you," Aemond replied impatiently, walking into the room and sitting on the carpet, flipping through pages.


    Hena did not stop him, but stood at the door with a stern look on her face. He hadn''t done his duty and hade to her room to hang out. And he imed he wasn''t in any trouble.


    Feeling ufortable under her gaze, Aemond took a small garment from the basket. "This is a boy''s style. Am I going to have another nephew?"


    "Your royal nephew," Hena emphasized the order of birth and seniority, growing even more confused. "Laena is back, and you��re going to the battlefield?"


    She could help write a rmendation letter, but the front line might not approve. Laena couldn��t leave Lys for a while. The Braavos and Qohor alliance in the upper part of the Narrow Sea required an experienced dragon stationed there.


    Aemond hesitated several times before finally speaking. "You should go back to Myr and take a look."


    "Why?" Hena asked warily.


    Aemond looked away and whispered, "No reason. I heard that Myr recently received a shipment of finece."


    He actually wanted to ask about the whereabouts of the White Worm and the personal attendant, but he feared his sister would report him, so he swallowed his words.


    The more he thought about it, the more annoyed he became. Aemond hurriedly got up and walked straight out.


    Hena let him pass, her eyes full of confusion. "Where are you going?" she asked.


    "Just wandering around," Aemond replied, feeling much better as his expression returned to its usual coldness.


    ...


    In the Evening, as the Sun Sets


    In a dark corner by the gutter, a burly, fat man dressed as a red-armored guard leaned against the wall next to the rushing rainwater. The red glow of the setting sun cast shadows on his face, and he squinted in disgust. He hated twilight, when everything looked blurry in the dark.


    Footsteps echoed not far away.


    The fat man''s ears twitched slightly; he judged there were two people, both thin men.


    "Are you here?"


    "Sorry to keep you waiting."


    A figure in a ck robe appeared, followed by a cowering man in tattered clothes. The fat man walked forward, his broad shoulders and massive frame making an imposing sight. He spoke in a low voice, "Prince, what can I do for you?"


    Crash!


    A money bag was thrown, smashing into the fat man''s chest. The figure in the ck robe looked up, revealing a sapphire eye under the hood, and said softly, "He is the cook of the Topless Tower and one of the White Worm''s little spiders."


    "Huh?"


    The fat man took the money and grabbed the cook by the cor, staring menacingly. The cook''s legs buckled, and he sped the other''s big hand, begging for mercy.


    "No, I''m just a insignificant person. If I hadn''t been paid, I wouldn''t have dared toe!"


    "That''s enough. He''s your helper."


    Aemond stopped him in time, took a dagger from his sleeve, and said coldly, "Bring me the head of the White Worm. There will be a reward for you after the job is done." He then threw the dagger to the fat man.


    The fat man caught it firmly, his face darkening. He said in a muffled voice, "The Topless Tower is easy to enter but hard to leave. Everyone who lives there is an important person."


    Aemond snorted, his single eye scanning the medal and the scar on the other man''s chest. ��So what?�� he asked.


    The emblem was two griffins facing each other, the sigil of the Griffin''s Roost of House Connington.


    The man before him was one of Lord Connington''s many bastards, a knight stripped of his title and his family crest trampled on after deserting during the invasion of Dorne. Reduced to mediocrity, he had be a guard at the Topless Tower, clinging to a shred of his former vanity. Aemond only tolerated him because he had ess to the tower and was a familiar face from the war.


    The fat man stuck out his neck, his voice filled with righteous indignation. ��The price we agreed on is not enough!��


    Aemondughed coldly, taking out five more gold coins from his pocket and tossing them onto the ground. ��After the job is done, you''ll get double that amount.��


    He turned and walked away, leaving the fat man and the cook exchanging nervous nces. They hesitated for a long moment.


    The fat man tucked the money bag away, handed the dagger and sack to the cook, and pushed him forward. ��Follow me. We can''t let the Prince down.��


    The cook looked like he was about to cry, but he quickly hid the dagger in his crotch.

 Chapter 537: White Worm Assassination

    Chapter 537: White Worm Assassination


    It is night, and dark clouds are gathering.


    Topless Tower.


    ��Be careful, you idiot,�� the fat man growled as he approached the back door where the fruits and vegetables were transported. He assumed the guise of a patrolling guard, ring at the cook who was pushing the cart.


    The cook, swallowing his nerves, kept silent and pushed a cart loaded with fresh vegetables covered in straw through the door.


    The surrounding guards, recognizing the two men from their usual routines, let them pass without suspicion.


    ...


    The corridor was dark and smoky.


    The fat man found an excuse to leave the guard and met the cook waiting at the entrance to the pantry.


    ��Woof, woof...�� A dirty little gray dog emerged, whimpering twice.


    ��Shh, don''t make a sound,�� the cook whispered, kicking the dog and ncing around furtively.


    ��What are you doing with it?�� the fat man demanded, staring at the dog with cold eyes.


    The cook shrank back but responded with a sense of entitlement, ��This is the watchdog. It has the best nose.�� Thanks to the dog, he had secured the job of a cook.


    ��Cut the crap and find someone,�� the fat man ordered, ignoring the dog as he headed towards a seldom-used long corridor.


    The Topless Tower was very tall, and the nobles used a winchdder to go up and down. There were many passageways, but no one used them.


    The cook didn''t waste any time. He found a torch to light his way and led the dog behind him.


    Everything was for the golden dragons promise.


    ...


    Myr, Realm''s Estate


    It was a dark night, with not a single star in the sky.


    Hoo-hoo


    A skinny, muddy dragon descended slowly, its ws trampling the grass in the field.


    Aemond dismounted and strode purposefully toward the solitary mill.


    ...


    At this moment, a figure was busy in the mill. The walls were dry and peeling, the windows paper-covered and broken.


    A dirty table held a candle burning in a waxy holder, with a book propping up one of the table legs.


    Otto lowered his head, taking a baked potato and butter from the firece, and began to mash and stir them carefully.


    "Dinner is ready," he muttered to himself, pulling out a piece of hard ck bread to eat with the sticky mashed potatoes.


    Otto had aged significantly over the years. His temples were lined with gray hair, his forehead wrinkled, and his once straight back now bent.


    He stood at the table, hastily finishing dinner without the precious etiquette he once adhered to. He was a criminal advisor, sent by the king to the Disputed Lands under the rule of Myr, where he spent years cultivating the wastnd and managing the manor.


    Life in the countryside was not asfortable as the life of a nobleman in the High Tower in Oldtown. He had to work hard to earn his food and drink.


    Day after day, the hard work eroded Otto''s pride. The once deep and prating eyes now held a dullness to them.


    Creak


    The old wooden door creaked open, and a figure with silver hair and one eye entered.


    Otto heard the noise but continued making the bed without looking up. The pillow was covered in messy hair.


    "Grandfather!"


    Aemond looked on with cold eyes and spoke up.


    Hearing this, Otto stiffened for a moment and said awkwardly, "After all these years, only you still remember this old man."


    Aemond walked around to the dining table and looked down at the leftovers. "It seems you''ve been doing well. You''re not as poor as I thought."


    "Just getting by," Otto replied, turning his back to his grandson. He straightened his messy cor before turning to sit down. "How is Alicent?"


    He hadn''t seen his daughter in a long time and wondered how she was doing.


    Aemond tapped the spoon on the te and replied, "Alicent lives in the chapel at Harrenhal, praying to the Seven Gods for forgiveness every day."


    Otto frowned and sighed, "House arrest in disguise, not bad at all."


    Aemond did not respond, staring at his grandfather with one eye, trying to peer into his decadent exterior.


    Otto let him look and asked bluntly, ��What do you want with me? I have to get up early tomorrow to grind wheat for someone.�� He was not a man to sit idle, working hard from dawn to dusk. As an old man, he could barely endure the hardship.


    Aemond sat down, his one-eyed gaze piercing. He ced a dagger on the table and said coldly, ��I want a Free City, and I need an opportunity.��


    ��You''vee to the wrong ce, boy,�� Otto replied helplessly. ��My information is too limited to help you.��


    ��There''s no one here, only me,�� Aemond said, his eyes dark and uncertain. ��I know you''re not well-informed, so I''ve devised my own n.��


    Otto was stunned and then realized, ��You don''t have a clue, so you want my advice?��


    ��Tell me,�� Aemond demanded, reluctant to admit his worry. He exined his n to assassinate the White Worm.


    The more Otto listened, the deeper his frown became until he interrupted, ��If the White Worm is killed, Daemon will turn against the royal family and House Vryon. Be careful. You can''t get back what you''ve lost.��


    The White Worm was staying in Lys to have her baby, and Daemon had arranged it that way. Laena had just returned to Lys, If the White Worm was killed under mysterious circumstances. Regardless of the truth, the royal family and the Vryons would be med.


    ��Isn''t that great?�� Aemond''s lips curled up with conviction. ��Daemon is old, and House Vryon is spoiled by his favor. Everyone will be in chaos, and my brother will trust me more.��


    ��No wall is imprable,�� Otto warned. ��Rhaegar is not easily swayed. Don''t push him too far.��


    ��Are you afraid?�� Aemond challenged.


    Ottoughed, ��I''ve alreadye this far. What��s there to be afraid of?�� He was only concerned that his grandson would act recklessly and go astray.


    Aemond sneered, ��You lost a power struggle and nowck the courage to rise again.��


    He had hoped Otto would be a key advisor. Seeing this, Aemond angrily got up and left. When he reached the door, he turned around and sneered, ��Your heart has aged along with your wrinkled old body. Both are useless and superfluous.��


    Bang!


    The door mmed shut, sending pieces of ster falling off the wall. Otto sat down on the edge of the bed, his head bowed, hands crossed. He muttered, ��Son of a bitch.��


    All he knows is how to act recklessly. He will never aplish anything in his life.


    ...


    Lys, Topless Tower.


    ��Hoo~�� The fat man and the kitchen helper climbed the stairs, sweating profusely.


    ��We''ve finally arrived,�� the cook panted, smiling. ��This floor is where the important people live. I heard the maid who delivers the food say so.��


    ��Lead the way, you idiot,�� the fat man snapped, tightening the scabbard at his waist and adopting a more serious gaze.


    Tap, tap, tap... A figure in the dark corridor, d in silver armor and white robes, patrolled back and forth.


    ��Woof woof~�� The dog whimpered, biting the cook''s pant leg.


    The two quickly retreated, hiding in the corner to spy on the hallway. Steffon, a Kingsguard, was meticulously patrolling with his sword in hand. Behind him was the bedroom where the Prince lived.


    The fat man peered closely and whispered, ��No, that door leads to the king''s son.��


    ��Let''s try another way,�� the cook suggested, hugging the dog as they climbed another floor. Inside the Topless Tower, the Queen lived on the top floor, while the female guests and Princes resided on the middle floor.


    As they ascended to the upper floor, a distinctive aroma of women wafted through the air.


    Whoosh! The fat man''s figure disappeared around the corner, and a strange shadow flickered behind him.


    ��Hmm?�� The fat man quickly turned around but saw nothing.


    ��What��s wrong?�� the cook asked nervously.


    ��Nothing, I must have been mistaken,�� the fat man replied, still suspicious as he continued to climb the stairs with his torch.


    ��Woof woof~~�� The two men didn��t notice the dog curling up in the cook��s arms, shivering with fear.


    ...


    Creak��


    In the hallway, the wooden door opened. Maekar, half asleep, stepped out, hugging a small nket in his arms. His watery blue eyes were full of confusion.


    ��Prince, did you have a nightmare?�� Steffon immediately approached and asked tenderly.


    ��No, Ser.�� Maekar shook his head and handed the small nket to Steffon. ��It''s cold at night. You must be tired, Ser.��


    Steffon took the nket, which still smelled of baby food, and was touched. "Prince, go to bed early. Don''t worry about me."


    "Good night." Maekar tilted his head to the side, waving his chubby hand, but kept his eyes on the dark corner of the stairs. After making sure there was nothing there, he stumbled back to his room.


    ...


    The fat man and the cook climbed the stairs, noting the absence of Kingsguard on this floor. They exchanged a nce, then looked around at the several tightly closed wooden doors lining both sides of the corridor.


    ��Which door?�� the fat man asked in a low, murderous voice.


    ��Don''t worry, I''ll take a look.�� The cook stroked the dog''s head and took a silk scarf out of his pocket. ��Smell it. Where is it?��


    ��Woof woof~~�� The puppy whimpered softly, not daring to look up.


    Bang! The cook gave him a kick, scolding, ��You useless thing, I''ve been feeding you for nothing.��


    The dog whimpered pitifully and crawled away in a panic.


    The fat man pointed to the nearest wooden door with a cold face. ��This is it.��


    ��Are you sure?�� The kitchen helper was stunned.


    ��It��s all the same anyway. Hurry up.�� The fat man grabbed his partner by the cor and squatted down to start picking the lock.


    Creak.


    The door opened.


    ...


    In the bedroom, Hena was sleeping soundly when a sudden feeling of difort rose up in her heart. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, as if she had just had a nightmare.


    ��Phew!��


    Hena woke up with a start, panting and covered in sweat. The candlelight flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls, and the bedroom was silent.


    ��Rats, worms...��


    Her heart pounded in her chest as she quickly grabbed the two small clothes by the bedside, hugging them tightly. She hurriedly got out of bed, her instincts screaming that something was terribly wrong.


    ...


    Meanwhile, in the next room, Mysaria was half asleep and half awake, tossing and turning restlessly. Suddenly, the sound of a door lock being picked came from the adjacent room. Mysaria''s eyes snapped open, her sleepiness immediately vanishing.


    Coming from a humble background, she was always on her guard. Quickly tying her scarf, she went to the door barefoot and peered through the crack. She saw two figures, one fat and one thin, prying open the door to the next room and sneaking in.


    ��Damn it,�� Mysaria muttered, realizing they were likelying for her. Her brain raced, trying toe up with a n. Slipping out through the crack in the door, she moved silently downstairs in the darkness, unnoticed.


    She knew there were Kingsguards downstairs and thought she could call out to them for help. But as she passed a half-open wooden door, she recognized it as the bedroom of the princess Hena.


    ��Where did everyone go?�� Mysaria wondered, perplexed. She guessed that Hena might have escaped downstairs before her. With the assassins close behind, there was no time to lose. Mysaria hurried down the stairs barefoot, her heart pounding with urgency.

 Chapter 538: Daemon’s Return

    Chapter 538: Daemon��s Return


    "Run faster, run faster...�� Hena muttered, her heart pounding as she sprinted up the stairs with Maekar in her arms.


    ��Auntie,�� Maekar murmured, feeling listless and slumping against her.


    ��Don��t worry, we��re almost there,�� Hena reassured him, ncing back frequently.


    Ser Steffon followed closely, his face tense as he remained silent, not daring to disturb the Princess and the Prince.


    The hall was eerily quiet, save for the crackling bonfire that cast flickering shadows, dispelling the night��s darkness. Hena rushed inside, dropping to her knees at the edge of the fire altar.


    Maekar looked around, his confusion deepening as he saw the red priest Varys lighting candles nearby.


    ��Princess,�� Varys greeted her calmly, as if this were an ordinary urrence.


    Hena remained silent, gently rocking Maekar back and forth as if to lull him to sleep. She adored her nephew and had instinctively woken him, seeking refuge in what she believed to be the safest ce.


    ��I��ll stand guard,�� Steffon announced, positioning himself resolutely at the door, his expression helpless but determined.


    Varys offered a sweet smile, suggesting, ��You should inform the other Kingsguard that there is no danger here.��


    Steffon hesitated, ncing between Varys with his intricate tattoos and the anxious Princess and Prince. Deciding against leaving, he straightened his back, ready to protect Maekar at all costs.


    ��Well, that��s fine then,�� Varys said with a shrug. He lit two sticks of calming incense, his gaze drifting to the doorway.


    Whoosh!


    A shadow flitted past, moving like a ghostly wraith.


    Varys�� smile remained undiminished as he shook his head in quiet amusement.


    ��A family of petty minds,�� he mused softly.


    ...


    Mysaria ran downstairs in a panic, but the Kingsguard who should have been on duty was nowhere to be seen.


    ��Seven levels of hell!�� she cursed under her breath.


    The corridor was dark and deste, her footsteps echoing in the emptiness. A sense of powerlessness invaded her chest as she realized how alone she was. Who had ordered the assassination? She wasn��t sure. But someone had been near her room, and the Kingsguard supposed to be on duty had vanished.


    The coincidences seemed to remind her that there was no one she could trust in the Topless Tower.


    ��Woof woof~~��


    A dog limped out, whimpering at the corner of the stairs. Mysaria''s face changed as she heard the faint sound of men scolding and cursing.


    Without hesitation, she turned and continued running downstairs. She didn��t trust anyone else, but she knew of a safe haven.


    ...


    It waste at night. Mysaria curled up in the cold, damp cer. The space was filled with radishes and potatoes, and she rubbed her hands together, trying to find some warmth. If she could just get through the night, she would board Myr''s merchant ship to Tyrosh in the morning.


    ��Damn it, where is that bitch hiding?��


    ��Keep your voice down. How should I know?��


    Just as she let her guard down, she heard familiar voices outside. Her eyes widened as she hastily covered herself with sackcloth, her nerves more on edge than ever. Why would someone be in the pantry? She had checked earlier, and no one but the cook should be in the cer.


    ��Woof woof~~��


    The dog whimpered, slipping into the kitchen to find something to eat in the slop bucket. The man and the dog were separated by a door, but they could hear each other breathing.


    Ssh!


    The slop bucket was kicked away, and a rough voice yelled, ��Eat shit! If we can''t cut off the head of the White Worm, you won''t get a penny.��


    The dog was being bullied, and the cook was also angry: ��What are you so angry about? You can''t get into the white worm''s ce.��


    Behind the door, Mysaria heard this and dared not breathe. Sure enough, someone had put a bounty on her head.


    Suddenly, a mangy rat poked its head out, jumped onto Mysaria''sp, and then jumped out of the door.


    ��Ooh!��


    Mysaria was shocked and quickly covered her mouth to stifle her voice. The mouse squeezed through the crack in the door and scurried into the kitchen to find food.


    ��Woof woof~~��


    The puppy, who was licking the slop, was the first to notice the rat. Soon after, the sound of something moving in the pantry was heard.


    The fat man and the cook froze, turning their heads to look at the closed cer door. There were many rooms in the Topless Tower where they could hide until dawn, but the White Worm did not call the guards to arrest them. Could it be...


    Bang!


    The two men looked at each other, and the fat man kicked open the cer door, revealing the pale woman hiding under the torn sack.


    ��Haha, it was easy to get her,�� the cook chuckled and reached into his pants. After two fumbles, he pulled out a dagger.


    The fat man snatched the dagger and said with a gloomy face, ��You hold her down, I''ll do it.��


    ��Who are you, and how much is the reward?�� Mysaria gasped for breath and tried to bribe them: ��I''ll give you ten times the price if you let me live.��


    ��Ten times?�� The fat man''s eyelids drooped, and he seemed to be tempted: ��That''s a lot of money.��


    Mysaria followed up, swallowing her saliva: ��With the money, I can find a ship to Pentos and ensure your safety.��


    ��Oh, what do you think?�� The fat man looked expressionless and nced at the kitchen helper.


    Mysaria silently stepped back, clutching a carrot in her hand, waiting for the two to discuss the results.


    Pop!


    A p hit her face hard and fast, causing her cheeks to swell up. Mysaria felt a sharp pain and fell to the ground, dizzy.


    ��Bah!�� The fat man spat and said disdainfully, ��Lying words, I''ve been able to do that since I was a kid.��


    The cook grabbed Mysaria by the hair and urged him, ��Hurry up and get it over with so we can leave.��


    ��I know.�� The fat man raised his dagger and aimed it at the pale neck.


    At thest moment, a dog barking was heard.


    ��Woof woof~~��


    The fat man froze at the sound and angrily shook his head: ��Damn stupid dog, can''t you stop barking!��


    In a sh, there was more than one dog at the door of the vegetable cer. There was also a slender shadow holding a crossbow.


    Whoosh!


    A crossbow bolt flew through the neck of the excited cook. His body stiffened, and blood gushed from the wound. Mysaria was sttered with blood and suddenly snapped back to reality, smelling the stench.


    ��Who!�� The fat man was startled, and because of the light, he could only see a vague shadow.


    Shoo! Shoo!


    Two more arrows were shot, piercing his arm and thigh.


    ��Ahhh!�� The fat man let out a scream, and the dagger fell out of his hand. His eyesight was poor, thanks to the attack by a runaway frenzy silver dragon when Dorne invaded the Stornds. Hisrades died before his eyes, and the firelight hurt his eyes. He panicked and deserted.


    ��Die!�� Mysaria was ruthless, picking up the dagger and stabbing it into the fat man''s beer belly. She rolled and crawled out of the room.


    At the door, the shadow with the crossbow was still there.


    ��Who are you?�� Mysaria didn''t trust anyone and didn''t dare to get too close.


    The shadow nced at her, removed the ck scarf covering her head, and revealed a face with an exotic style. Sara''s expression was cold, and she casually said, ��Don''t worry, you''re safe.��


    ��The queen sent you. Who are they?�� Mysaria was confused and couldn''t tell friend from foe.


    Sara loaded the crossbow and said calmly, ��I don''t know. They''re just little thieves.�� The Topless Tower is not a rat''s nest like King''s Landing. It''s not a ce where people can juste and go as they please.


    Seeing that she was about to shoot the crossbow again, Mysaria quickly stopped her: ��Leave them alive to interrogate the mastermind behind this.��


    Sara paused, and thought it made sense.


    Suddenly, a sound of small objects rustling came from behind.


    ��Woof woof~~�� The puppyy on the ground, covering its head with its paws and not daring to look.


    Another ghostly figure appeared, holding a bamboo skewer in his hand.


    Whoosh!


    The bamboo skewer shot out, heading straight for the fat man''s neck.


    Sara''s eyes narrowed, and she kicked the bamboo skewer away, coldly saying, ��What are you doing?��


    ��Don''t be so excited, little girl.�� The ghost tilted his head and said in a soft voice: ��Believe me, he shouldn''t be alive.��


    ��You''re just pretending to be a ghost.�� Sara raised her crossbow.


    The ghost sighed softly and slowly walked out of the darkness. Unkempt brown curls, rough skin, and a sloppy appearance. Syrio nced at Mysaria and said in a calm voice, ��The teachings of the Faceless Men are that you should not leave any loose ends behind.��


    He had seen the assassins enter the Topless Tower. But the assassins'' origins were hard to fathom. It would be bad for the royal family''s reputation to leave a survivor.


    Sara''s eyebrows rose in anger, and she said unceremoniously, ��He must be kept alive. The queen will interrogate him herself.��


    The two assassins had sneaked into the Topless Tower, intending to assassinate the Prince''s Paramour. If the truth is not uncovered, the dirty water will be sshed on the queen and Lady Laena.


    ��Doesn''t make sense?�� Syrio''s eyes were as sharp as a hawk''s.


    Sara did not back down, calmly saying, ��There has to be an exnation.��


    The two top assassins exchanged a fierce look. Mysaria''s face tightened, and she walked out of the room step by step.


    In an instant, two dark shadows collided, the nging sound of metal shing reverberating through the cer.


    ��Guards, where are the guards?�� Mysaria shouted as she ran out the door, her voice echoing in the hallway.


    tter...


    The guards, alerted by the noise, hurried toward the cer.


    Inside the cer, Syrio, with a bloody mark on his cheek, moved gracefully, his steps precise and measured.


    Sara stood her ground, two daggers poised in her hands, her eyes locked on Syrio.


    ��You''ve lost,�� Syrio said, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he looked for an opening.


    Sara remained silent, covering the bloody gash on her left thigh, her breathing steady despite the pain.


    ��Someone, hurry!��


    ��Assassin! Hurry up!�� Themotion outside grew louder as a group of guards rushed over.


    Syrio lowered his gaze, picked up a radish, and tossed it toward Sara as a test.


    With a swift motion, Sara waved her hand, slicing the radish cleanly in half.


    Whoosh!


    Seizing the moment, Syrio rolled sideways, grabbed the crossbow from the ground, and shot an arrow at the fat man.


    Pop!


    The arrow pierced the fat man''s eye socket before Sara could intervene.


    The two assassins exchanged a nce, understanding passing silently between them. They quickly gathered their equipment and prepared to leave, knowing the man was dead and the cleanup was no longer their responsibility.


    ...


    That night, the entire Topless Tower was abuzz with activity. Lights zed in every window, and the hallways were filled with a throng of people.


    The search for the assassin''s aplices and the truth behind the assassination was in full swing. Rhaenyra, roused from her sleep, joined the frantic efforts.


    White Worm could be a target, but not on her watch. She knew Daemon would not let this go unpunished.


    ...


    A few dayster, in Vntis, within the grand mansion...


    "Vntis and the surrounding towns have surrendered. Our next strategic objective is ver''s Bay," Rhaegar announced, his voice echoing in therge, bright hall as he moved arge wall map.


    Daemon and Rhaenys, each standing on opposite sides of the map, stared intently at the three ve Free Cities.


    Rhaegar, full of vigor, dered loudly, "I propose that we attack Yunkai first and use the strategy of encircling and attacking the reinforcements."


    "ver''s Bay is too vast for three dragons and a naval fleet to conquer in one swoop. We must wear them down first, then destroy them piece by piece. Only then can we defeat the remnants of the Old Empire of Ghis and the bastard Dragonlord."


    Knock, knock! The sound of knocking came from outside.


    A servant quietly entered and whispered two words in Daemon''s ear.


    Rhaegar took a deep breath and watched quietly.


    Bang! Daemon suddenly exploded, mming his hand on the table and kicking the chair away. He cursed as he stormed out, "Damn bitch."


    Rhaegar and Rhaenys exchanged puzzled nces, unable to understand why Daemon had suddenly lost his temper.


    "Brother," Daeron rushed over, clutching two letters in his hands.


    Rhaegar opened the first letter, which contained the details of the assassination attempt on Mysaria, the White Worm, sent by Rhaenyra.


    The second letter was from Maris Baratheon of Storm''s End.


    Rhaegar tore off the seal and read the letter. His face darkened like a stormy sky, his breathing bing heavy with anger.


    "Aemond!" he growled.

 Chapter 539: Pulling the Strings

    Chapter 539: Pulling the Strings


    ��Roar...�� Caraxes let out a loud neigh, and like a snake, it soared into the sky, leaping over the ck Wall.


    Inside the mansion, through the ss floor-to-ceiling windows, it was clear to see Daemon riding the dragon away. Rhaenys frowned in disbelief, ��White Worm was attacked?��


    ��Yes, fortunately someone was guarding the Topless Tower,�� Rhaegar''s face darkened, but he let out a sigh of relief. The fact that White Worm was unharmed meant there was still room to maneuver.


    Rhaenys looked at a piece of paper and said with certainty, ��It couldn''t have been Laena. She has her own pride.��


    Rhaegar nced at the paper and said nothing. Daeron lowered his head, eyeing the second note in his brother''s hand. If his guess was correct, that letter probably contained the name of the real culprit. His brother had just be angry and said Aemond''s name.


    Rhaenys, unaware of the second note, had already prepared for the worst: ��I''ll ride back to Lys with Meleys to prevent Daemon from making a scene.��


    ��I''ll go back instead,�� Rhaegar interrupted, calmly saying, ��The real culprit is someone else. We have to give Daemon an answer.��


    Rhaenys sensed something was wrong and asked suspiciously, ��Who would want to kill White Worm and for what purpose?��


    ��Whoever it is, we need to calm Daemon down first,�� Rhaegar didn''t care about the process, only the result. With the war ongoing, the family could not afford to be at odds with each other. Aemond had done something stupid, and someone had to clean up the mess.


    Rhaenys narrowed her eyes, trying to guess who would benefit the most from the murder.


    ��Keep an eye on Vntis. Don''t do anything rash,�� Rhaegar patted Daeron on the shoulder, his demeanorpletely natural.


    Daeron nodded silently, taking it to heart. Rhaegar said no more and left.


    Rhaenys stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows, her arms folded, deep in thought.


    ...


    Lys, the t-topped Topless Tower.


    Since the assassination attempt on White Worm, the Topless Tower had been under strict security. Mysaria stayed in her room around the clock, her presence never waning for even a moment. She spoke to no one, except for brief interactions during meals and trips to the toilet. For added security, Ser Lorent of the Kingsguard was assigned to guard her door, ensuring her safety day and night.


    ...


    The meeting hall.


    A group of women gathered together, their conversations hushed and tense. Hena sat quietly in a corner, sewing small clothes. asionally, she would nce up, then quickly lower her eyes back to her work.


    Rhaenyra stood in front of Johanna, her voice stern and demanding, ��Did you do it or not?��


    Johanna looked genuinely taken aback, her hands raised in a gesture of innocence. ��Your Grace, I have never acted on my own,�� she replied helplessly. ��I truly didn''t do it. If I had, I wouldn''t have been so careless.��


    Rhaenyra''s piercing gaze fixed on Johanna''s eyes, searching for any sign of deceit. Deep down, she suspected it wasn''t Johanna. Based on the sess of Johanna''s previous trap for Jeyne, the ck Swan''s methods were far too sophisticated for such a clumsy attempt. But she needed to be sure.


    ��Mother, is heing back?�� Ba asked, ncing nervously at the scene, her voice trembling slightly.


    Laena, who was sitting on a chair holding her leg, felt a wave of mixed emotions wash over her. She hadn''t orchestrated the assassination, but the me had somehow fallen on her. With Daemon''s paranoid personality, the aftermath would not be easily resolved.


    Rhaena, clinging to Laena''s other leg, tried to offerfort. ��Lady Mysaria is fine. We will catch the real culprit,�� she said softly.


    ��Bullshit,�� Ba retorted, her voice filled with bitterness. ��He only cares about his son. He doesn''t care about right and wrong.�� Years of neglect had turned the word ��father�� into something unbearable for her.


    Laena''s head ached from the bickering between her two daughters. She sighed, ��Don''t jump to conclusions. Let''s wait until Daemon returns.�� After all, it was their side that had saved Mysaria, the White Worm. She believed Daemon wouldn��t act rashly without a reason.


    Rhaenyra turned her attention to Sara and asked, ��Have you found any clues?��


    Dressed as a maid, Sara shook her head, her voice low and unwavering. ��No,�� she replied.


    ��A guard and a cook. How could they assassinate someone without being hired?�� Rhaenyra frowned, skepticism in her voice.


    ��They were both working alone. There��s nothing more to find,�� Sara insisted, her attitude resolute. For her, the nature of the incident had changed the moment the assassin died. Syrio was right��the true identity of the mastermind could not be revealed. If the truth were uncovered, it would be the king who ultimately suffered.


    Rhaenyra put her hand on her forehead, feeling extremely helpless. The incident had happened on her territory, and it was a hot potato she didn''t want to handle. She turned her head and met Laena''s eyes, seeing the same helplessness reflected back.


    Rhaenyra had a bright idea and opened her mouth to speak, but Laena cut her off, saying, ��Daemon has too many enemies to count.�� She knew her husband all too well. He was entric, loud, brash, and always exuded a dangerous aura. In just a few words, he could offend arge number of people.


    Rhaenyra was so angry that she could hardly stand it. She spat out, ��He''s just an asshole.�� But then, her concern shifted. ��What are you going to do? Daemon wille and hold you ountable?��


    She wasn''t afraid for herself, but Laena was alone in this.


    Laena was silent for a long time, her face gradually bing solemn. She spoke quietly, almost to herself, ��If he doesn��t even have the most basic trust, it��s time to make a clean break.�� She was tired of this life. How different was she now from thete Lady Rhea?


    Rhaenyra looked surprised, taking her friend''s hand, unsure whether to encourage reconciliation or support Laena''s resolve.


    Throughout the conversation, Hena remained quiet, lost in her own thoughts. In her hands was a green silk tapestry embroidered with two dragons, one red and one green, entwined with each other. They appeared to be fighting, but also looked like they were making love. The red thread of dragon blood dripped down the side of the tapestry, leaving a white space.


    ...


    Time flies. Three dayster, the port of Lys was bustling with merchant ships. Pedestrians strolled by as two dragons whizzed past overhead, their powerful wings creating gusts of wind that blew away street vendors'' goods and lifted the skirts of startleddies.


    In the Topless Tower, Daemon stormed into the meeting hall, his expression cold and threatening.


    ��Prince, Your Grace has not yet summoned you,�� Arryk, the Kingsguard on duty, said, reaching out to block him.


    "Out of my way, white robe," Daemon snapped, pushing him aside without a second thought.


    Everyone in the hall witnessed this scene. Rhaenyra''s lips tightened as if she were swallowing her anger. Laena and Johanna sat in their seats as councilors, waiting to see what Daemon would do next. Hena, seated off to the side, carefully yed with a sapphire.


    The usual attendees were present, but surprisingly, Aemond was there beside Hena. Ever since Daemon had burst in, Aemond had nced sideways, sat up straight, and a faint smile curved his lips. Perpetrators often liked to return to the scene of the crime, admiring their own handiwork. The look of panic on the good uncle''s face excited him a little.


    Daemon, after days of traveling on the dragon, was in a state of suppressed anger that could erupt at any time. His patience was exhausted. He first gave Laena a cold nce.


    Laena looked up at him, unconcerned. Daemon narrowed his eyes and nced at Johanna and Hena but didn''t see any motivation in their expressions.


    Finally, Daemon''s gaze settled on his niece, Rhaenyra.


    "Queen, Mysaria was attacked on your territory. You owe me an exnation!" Daemon''s tone was icy, the coldness cutting through the room.


    Rhaenyra met his gaze with a calm, cold look. "ording to tradition, you should call me Your Grace."


    "Oh, Your Grace," Daemon sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He suddenly erupted, "I''m fighting for the kingdom while women and children arenguishing in prison. Where were you then?!"


    "How dare you use me!" Rhaenyra shot back, unafraid and unwavering. "Don''t forget, it was my people who rescued White Worm and sent you the raven."


    Daemon''s sneer deepened. "Who knows if this wasn''t a farce of your own making?" His eyes sliced through Laena like a de.


    Laena took a deep breath, clenched her skirt, and prepared to stand up. Suddenly, the Kingsguard at the doorway shouted, ��Your Grace!��


    Creak.


    The heavy door slowly opened, and a slight breeze blew away the heat in the room. Rhaegar strode in, and the room fell silent as everyone turned to look at him.


    Rhaenyra''s face lit up with joy, feeling reassured. Hena rested her hands on her cheeks, staring at him.


    Rhaegar''s nce swept the room, pausing briefly on Aemond. His face showed no emotion, but Aemond, who had been enjoying the spectacle, suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable. He had believed he was safe, that the two assassins had died without revealing him as the mastermind. But Rhaegar''s stare made him feel naked and ashamed. He avoided Rhaegar''s gaze, taking back the sapphire from Hena, his eyes empty and insecure.


    Daemon, still ring at his nephew, said sarcastically, "You came back to investigate the real murderer?"


    Rhaegar ignored the sarcasm and said calmly, "I just saw Lady Mysaria. She''s fine."


    Daemon frowned, not understanding his nephew''s meaning. Rhaegar was blunt, saying, "I thought you would be more concerned about the pregnant woman."


    Daemon had made a big fuss about returning but hadn''t seen White Worm, who was pregnant. Instead, he had barged into the conference room, venting his anger at everyone. Rhaegar wanted to ask if the life of the White Worm was more important than his prestige being challenged.


    Daemon understood and said bluntly, "I want the murderer. The real murderer must be hiding in the Topless Tower."


    Rhaenyra interjected, "The Topless Tower has been searched repeatedly. There is no real killer."


    "Stop your tricks. You wouldn''t fool a three-year-old," Daemon retorted,ughing mockingly. "You''re still not willing to admit it, but I taught you those tricks."


    He dared to assert that the real murderer was in this conference room. Rhaenyra was furious, feeling that the other party was beingpletely unreasonable.


    "Okay, everyone, sit down," Rhaegar interrupted the escting argument, pulling out a chair and taking a seat.


    Daemon remained standing, his eyes scanning the room with a prating gaze. Most of the women looked indifferent, but Aemond, chin slightly raised, had a yful, almost provocative glint in his eyes.


    Sensing something off, Daemon narrowed his eyes, recalling the one-eyed kid''s earlier letter to Rhaegar, mocking him and asking for a fight. Daemon, experienced in the art of intrigue, felt a familiar scent of conspiracy.


    Rhaegar noticed this shift and, without warning, picked up a wine cup from the table, hurling it with precision.


    Bang!


    Aemond, caught off guard, took the cup to the forehead, the impact sending wine and blood streaming down his face.


    Crack!


    Hena''s eyes went wide, and she leaped out of her seat in fear. Aemond, stunned, stared at Rhaegar, blood streaming from his good eye.


    "I told you to patrol the Narrow Sea. What are you doing back in Lys?" Rhaegar''s eyes were like spears, pointing to the door. "Get out and finish your duty, now!"


    After the assassination, the real killer��s identity was still a mystery. Rhaegar knew Daemon couldn''t learn the truth, as it would inevitably lead to chaos. Aemond had loyally yed his part as a dutiful brother, and Rhaegar intended to protect him, just as his father had always protected Daemon.


    The tension in the room was palpable. Despite the calm facade since Rhaegar''s arrival, his first harsh words were followed by a decisive act of violence against Aemond.


    Daemon''s eyes widened in surprise. "Are you going to protect him?" he asked, already convinced of Aemond''s involvement.


    Rhaenyra and Laena were equally taken aback, Rhaenyra especially, her expression one of clear-eyed disbelief, as if silently questioning Aemond''s motives.


    Aemond turned his head, wiping the blood from his forehead with his hand. Rhaegar''s expression remained unchanged, but his actions spoke volumes. "Get out! Do I have to repeat myself a third time?"


    Aemond hesitated, then finally conceded. "Yes, Your Grace," he muttered, kicking the chair away and heading toward the door.


    "Stop, one-eye!" Daemon couldn��t let it go, drawing his sword and rushing straight at Aemond.


    In the next second:


    ng!


    Sparks flew as swords shed. Rhaegar stood up simultaneously, Truefyre pushing aside Daemon''s steel de. His sword aimed squarely at his impulsive uncle from a distance.


    "Rhaegar!" Rhaenyra gasped, shocked to see uncle and nephew drawing their swords against each other.


    Rhaegar, ignoring her, fixed his gaze on Daemon, his tone serious. "There is a limit to everything. It''s time to stop."


    Daemon, slightly surprised, quickly sneered. "If someone tried to kill Rhaenyra, would you be able to stop?"


    "White Worm is White Worm, and you know it best," Rhaegar countered, not backing down. He advanced his de slowly. "If you marry White Worm, I will give you a grand ceremony."


    Rhaegar was determined to save Aemond, even if it meantpensating Daemon by involving himself in his murky business with the Sea Snake and making sacrifices.


    "What if I say no?" Daemon retorted.


    Rhaegar''s eyes remained calm. "You can try."


    Daemon tilted his head slightly, his right hand gripping the sword so tightly that his knuckles turned white, a dangerous aura emanating from him.


    As the uncle and nephew faced off, it seemed a fight could break out at any moment.


    At some point, Hena had packed her things and stood behind Rhaegar. Aemond wiped the blood from his face, his hand on the dagger at his waist.


    The three siblings and Uncle Daemon were clearly at odds. Aemond had misjudged the assassination of White Worm, and he was gravely mistaken. Daemon was the victim, even if his sarcasm had triggered the incident.


    But Aemond had been right about his own position from the start. He wanted to make a name for himself and unite his siblings to defend Rhaegar''s rule. Even if Aegon and Daeron were present, they would choose to side with their brother.


    Rhaegar, maintaining hisposure, said, "Uncle, I have a duty to protect Lady Mysaria." His dedication was evident; otherwise, Daemon would have already received news of her death.


    Daemon''s face darkened further, and he seemed ready to swing his sword. Rhaegar, however, nced at him and was the first to lower Truefyre. "Go see Lady Mysaria, and let''s end this here," he said.


    At this moment, Hena and Aemond silently stepped back, creating a passage. Daemon was momentarily dazed, a sense of disappointment washing over him.


    Looking at the three siblings standing together, he suddenly thought of his brother Viserys. It had been a long time since he had seen his brother. This confrontation wasn''t truly Rhaegar''s doing. It was the relentless tide of time, crashing against the wandering prince who had once led a life of debauchery.

 Chapter 540: Exiled Dragon

    Chapter 540: Exiled Dragon


    It was evening. The gates were open, and people were leaving in an orderly fashion. Rhaenyra walked slowly, while Daemon passed her from behind, his steps quick and forceful. He identally knocked her off bnce.


    "Be careful," Laena said, helping her up. "Sorry to get you involved."


    Rhaenyra rubbed her shoulder and sighed. "Forget it. You be careful."


    The confrontation between uncle and nephew had ended with Daemon backing down. No one knew what he was thinking at the time, but he had suddenly fallen silent.


    Laena''s face was a mixture of emotions as she whispered, "I want to have a good chat with him."


    "Are you sure Daemon can listen to you now?" Rhaenyra asked, rolling her eyes. She knew her uncle''s temper well.


    Laena smiled faintly. "There are some things that can''t be put off."


    Marriage should not be a torture, she thought.


    Seeing her friend''s determination, Rhaenyra gave her a hug and said solemnly, "I can''t give you advice, but as long as I am queen, Lys will always have a ce for you."


    "Thank you," Laena replied, returning the hug, her tall frame enveloping her friendpletely.


    ...


    In the conference room, Rhaegar stood alone before the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing at the red dye of the setting sun.


    Knock, knock!


    Aemond returned, standing there at a loss.


    "Come in," Rhaegar said, his voice cold and unemotional.


    Aemond''s heart pounded as he slowly approached, his neck stiff with apprehension. It''s just a beating. If Aegon could take it, so could he.


    Rhaegar turned abruptly and lifted his leg.


    Bang!


    A sudden kick to the chest, delivered with all the hatred Rhaegar could muster, sent Aemond flying backwards. His face turned pale, and a suffocating pain shot through him, as if someone had locked his throat.


    ��Po!��


    A mouthful of blood sttered on the floor, and his one good eye bulged as he crashed into a row of chairs, hunched over like a shriveled prawn.


    ��How dare you!�� Rhaegar''s voice was icy as he lectured, ��You have such a small heart, using such despicable means for revenge?��


    Assassinating a pregnant woman��how could Aemond even conceive of such a thing?


    Aemond copsed in a pile of chairs, then slowly rose and knelt down, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.


    The more Rhaegar looked at him, the angrier he became. He hated Daemon for being so weak. ��Daemon has struggled for so many years and finally has a child, but it��s still our blood rtive!��


    ��Cough, cough...�� Aemond gasped for breath, his contempt evident. ��A child conceived by a whore.��


    In a way, he and Daemon were the same kind of person. They discriminated against everyone who was not a Targaryen. Mysaria, the White Worm, was born into a lowly family and was not taken seriously at all.


    ��Get out!�� Rhaegarughed, his voice dripping with condescension. ��Take your so-called Second Sons followers and get out of Essos.��


    ��Why?�� Aemond was stunned, unable to believe his ears.


    ��Yes, why?�� Rhaegar repeated, his tone scornful. ��If you want to make a name for yourself, then go east and conquer a territory that belongs to you.��


    ��No, I don��t want to leave.�� Aemond shook his head repeatedly. He didn��t want to leave. He still harbored ambitions of bing the Hand of the King and expanding the power of his family.


    Rhaegar spoke sensibly, ��I can protect you once, but not for the rest of your life.��


    Daemon may outwardly tolerate this, but behind his back, he will surely plot revenge. Aemond staying by his side would only make him a target for attacks and family infighting. If he has to leave, let time heal the wounds. In the meantime, he should sharpen his edges.


    Hearing that it was for his own good, Aemond no longer resisted and struggled to sit up. The two brothers looked at each other, one tall and one short.


    After a long silence, Aemond asked, ��Where should I go?��


    ��Wherever you want.�� Rhaegar��s eyes shed with a hint of brilliance. ��Qohor, the Great Grass Sea of the Dothraki, ver��s Bay.��


    The sky is high and the birds fly, the sea is wide and the fish leap. Whether it��s a dragon or a worm, you��ll know if you let it out to explore.


    ��Okay, I��ll do as you say.�� Aemond looked stubborn but reluctantly agreed. ��Take care of yourself.��


    Rhaegar turned his back and said lightly, ��Mmm.��


    ...


    Meanwhile, Daemon left the house with a heavy heart, wandering aimlessly. He found himself near Mysaria��s room but hesitated, choosing to walk past. His emotions were a tangled mess. Was it shame? Or was it reluctance to face his Paramour, who had never truly trusted him?


    One thing was certain: Mysaria''s fears had been justified. She had nearly paid for his arrogance with her life.


    ��Fate is always cruel,�� Daemon muttered, continuing his aimless walk.


    The Topless Tower wasn��t thatrge, and soon the scenery began to repeat itself. As he walked, a familiar voice called out from behind him.


    ��Daemon, let''s sit down and talk.��


    Daemon turned, surprised to see Laena. She knew her husband��s stubbornness well and leaned against a doorframe, waiting.


    ��Don��t wander around. Come in,�� she said, turning to enter the room.


    Daemon hesitated briefly before shaking his head with augh. He followed her, wondering if she was going to berate him. He entered the room and found Laena already seated at the table.


    The room��s exotic decor, with its murals and simple elegance, felt both familiar and distant, reminiscent of their time in Pentos.


    ��Youe and go in a hurry, don��t you?�� Laena said tly. ��You always choose to run away, leaving me to clean up the mess.��


    ��When did that happen? I��ve forgotten,�� Daemon replied, feigning nonchnce, though his eyes roved over the familiar surroundings.


    ��It��s okay, I��ll help you remember,�� Laena said with a touch of sadness. ��You lost the love of your brother and niece because you tried to murder your six-year-old nephew out of jealousy.��


    Daemon flinched but said nothing.


    ��In order to return to your hometown, you fought with your nephew, who was the heir prince, again and again.��


    Daemon clenched his fists.


    ��And, longing for a Free City of your own, you betrayed your allies and failed to take it,�� Laena continued, connecting the dots of his reckless life.


    Her eyes were sad as she used him, ��Have you ever thought that there is someone waiting for you?��


    Daemon was deeply moved by her words. He remembered conspiring with Alicent to murder Rhaegar, only for Laena to rescue him on Vhagar. When he was imprisoned in the Red Keep dungeon, it was Laena who used her daughters'' custody to negotiate a truce. And during the final assault on Tyrosh, she nearly dieding to his aid.


    At that time, Daemon realized the harm he had done to his brother by dering he had a "one day heir." His heart tightened, and the anger drained from his face, reced by a flood of memories.


    Laena''s loyalty was unmatched by any woman. He stood speechless in the face of her rebuttal.


    ��I was once obsessed with your uninhibited nature, and I saw loving you as a challenge,�� Laena said, her eyes filled with bitterness. ��But I��m tired. I��m not up for the challenge anymore.��


    Daemon looked around in confusion, a bad feeling creeping into his heart. As expected, Laena said decisively, ��Daemon, let��s let each other go.��


    ��No!�� Daemon was shocked, his eyes reddening. ��I just want an heir. I never thought of shaking your position.��


    Laena stood up proudly. ��Don��t let people look down on you. End this tragedy.�� She would not stoop topete for his affection with a prostitute. She would not drag her family and friends into it. Her bloodline came from the dragons, and the sky and sea belonged to her.


    "No, never." Daemon shook his head and took a step back, as he always did. Like his brother Viserys, he was an ostrich with his head in the sand when faced with an insoluble problem. Right now, he would rather go to war and behead a thousand enemies than face his feelings of guilt.


    Laena��s eyes misted over, and she gritted her teeth. ��If you don��t want to, I have a way.�� At worst, she could ask Rhaenyra to witness the couple��s breakup. She believed Rhaegar would want to see her and Daemon end up like this.


    ��I won��t allow it.�� Daemon seemed to have lost his soul, his voice choking up.


    Laena��s anger rose, her voice loud and firm: ��Daemon! If you don��t want to break up, you should give me the respect I deserve!�� If he couldn��t cut it off decisively, then he should give her love, not the torment of mistrust and neglect.


    After being yelled at, Daemon��s eyes suddenly cleared, and his stiff body regained some vitality.


    Plop! He stumbled awkwardly and fell on his butt on the bench.


    Daemon��s mind was in turmoil, but he seemed to have made up his mind. ��Ba, I will name our daughter as the heir, and you will always be the hostess of Tyrosh.��


    ��Are you sure?�� Laena was stunned.


    ��There is no one more suitable to be the heir than Ba,�� Daemon said, silent but firm. ��She has always been a good child, and you and I both know it.��


    Laena was stunned, disbelief evident on her face. ��What about Lady Mysaria��s child?��


    ��He will be the most powerful ally of his sister,�� Daemon said, rubbing his face with a smile. ��I shouldn��t be obsessed with a boy. He would be too temperamental.��


    ��Daemon...�� Laena was momentarily lost in thought, and the emotions that had been lost and regained filled her heart. She never thought that her husband, always so self-centered, would give up his own opinion.


    ��Laena,�� Daemon said, stroking his wife��s cheek, ��perhaps you should give me a boy.��


    ��What?�� Laena was stunned.


    Daemon��s lips curled up, and he picked up his wife and carried her into the house. ��It��s gettingte. It seems like I haven��t tasted you in a long time.��


    ��...��


    It was getting dark, and the night owl was scratching and calling.


    ...


    It is midnight. The moon shines brightly, casting a faint halo on the floor.


    Creak.


    The door opens, and Daemon, his silver hair disheveled, steps out of the bedroom. His white shirt is open at the cor. He nces back and sees the slender figure lying on the bed, her white body perfectly curvy, and her long legs gleaming in the moonlight. He touches his forehead, wiping away a sweat stain, and lowers his head with a smile.


    He had agreed to Laena''s request, giving her his full trust and love. Ba''s inheritance is proof of this. The child in Mysaria''s belly... if it is a son, then the two siblings can follow the family tradition, as long as the child is not adopted. He believed that Ba''s strong personality would be able to suppress her unborn brother. This inspiration came from his good nephew and niece. Rhaegar and Rhaenyra are also eight years apart.


    There was a slight noise in the corner. Daemon''s eyes shed, and he mmed the door shut to stop the erotic scene in the room from being seen. A small maid tiptoed out, looking down and not daring to look up.


    "White Worm''s little spider?" Daemon''s eyes shed with evil light as he looked her up and down.


    "Yes, Prince," the skinny maid shivered.


    Daemon looked away in disgust, took a letter from his open breast pocket, and warned, "Give this to Mysaria. She''ll know what to do."


    The skinny maid nodded vigorously, taking the letter and disappearing like a scared rabbit.


    "An eye for an eye, a son for a son," Daemon whispered softly, his eyes as deep as water. The moonlight cast a distorted shadow.


    Since the one-eyed man dared to assassinate his woman, he wouldn''t hesitate to retaliate in kind. His nephew Rhaegar had said he would do anything to protect his brother. But Rhaegar couldn''t control everyone.

 Chapter 541: The Evil Wizard of Slaver’s Bay

    Chapter 541: The Evil Wizard of ver��s Bay


    The same night, in the open Dragonpit, Rhaenyra sat by the campfire, watching the children y andugh. The warmth of the fire and the sounds of their joy brought a rare moment of peace. After a while, she felt drowsy and gently massaged her temples, her thoughts drifting to Laena''s situation.


    To be fair, she hoped her friend had made a clean break. Daemon was not a man to be trusted; she had known that ever since she had almost fallen into his hands as a maiden. Laena deserved a happy ending. Even if she married Rhaegar, Rhaenyra wouldn''t mind. Laena was a thousand times better than that Jeyne bitch.


    "Roar..."


    A low growl came from the dragon pit behind them. Rhaenyra listened intently and recognized the sound as the Cannibal''s low growl. Rhaegar was in the dragon pit, and the siblings hade together.


    Her younger brother had made too many difficult decisions and needed to digest them alone. As an older sister, she knew her role was to be there for him, providing silent support andfort in these challenging times.


    ...


    In the main hall, the atmosphere was lively as the children yed wildly, with several young dragons involved in their games. Maekar, however, stood apart in a corner, diligently cleaning Tyraxes'' scales with a small brush. Tyraxes, not entirely pleased, pped its tail on the floor with a loud crack.


    "Look at my dragon. Its name is Vermax," Lyanna said proudly, her arms folded. Perched on her head, the bronze dragon Vermax hissed softly, trying to spread its blood-red wings. It was a handsome little devil.


    "Hmph, a little dragon cub, what''s so great about it," Aemon snorted, pushing Lyanna aside roughly.


    "You hurt me," Lyanna protested as she stumbled but was quickly steadied by Baelon.


    "Roar~~" Vermax, defending its master, roared at Aemon.


    "Roar!" The Trickster leapt out from the side, letting out a hot, fishy breath. Vermax immediately retreated, obediently returning to Lyanna''s side.


    "You bully people!" Lyanna cried, stamping her feet in anger.


    Aemon crossed his arms with a smug look, "Pfft, little girl."


    The Trickster mimicked his arrogance, tail held high.


    "You, you..." Lyanna''s eyes widened with fury, unable to find the words.


    Ba and Rhaena watched from the sidelines. Rhaena wanted to intervene, but Ba held her back, shaking her head. It wasn''t their fight to get involved in.


    "You''re a bad person!" Lyanna''s voice trembled with distress, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Wuwuwuwuwu..."


    "All you know is how to cry and blush," Aemon mocked.


    "Aemon, that''s enough," Baelon interjected, unable to bear his brother''s cruelty any longer.


    Aemon wasn''t convinced, "Did I say something wrong?"


    "Do you want to get beaten up?" Baelon rolled up his sleeves, taking a step forward.


    Aemon quickly retreated, his neck shrinking in fear. His brother''s fists hurt.


    "You won''t behave unless you''re beaten," Baelon said, rolling his eyes. He helped the crying Lyanna sit down, whispering, "Don''t cry. I''ll teach him a lesson."


    "No!" Lyanna pushed Baelon''s hand away, resisting, "Don''t touch me, you''re all bad."


    Tears streamed down her face, her nose red from crying. Baelon withdrew his hand, scratching his head awkwardly. The scene left him at a loss, trying to find a way tofort his sister without making things worse.


    It''s not surprising that the little girl refused. After all, Baelon and Aemon looked the same, and Lyanna often confused the two of them. Now she was crying, and Baelon found himself implicated.


    Themotion quickly attracted the attention of the adults. Rhaenyra looked up and saw the children surrounding Lyanna, who was crying her heart out. The sight of her little tongue wagging in her throat was heart-wrenching.


    ��Seven hells!�� Rhaenyra muttered, rubbing her temples as she moved to break up the fight. With many children around, noise and chaos were inevitable. In the past, Maekar had been a loner and often shed with Aemon. Lyanna��s arrival added a wild, fearless girl to the mix, escting tensions.


    ��Baelon, tell me what''s going on?�� Rhaenyra''s stern face exuded an air of authority.


    Baelon��s face froze, and he red at Aemon, the troublemaker. As the eldest, he often bore the brunt of their conflicts.


    ��Mother, it''s not Lyanna''s fault,�� Baelon said, ignoring Aemon��s pleading eyes. He proceeded to exin everything his brother had done.


    ��Brother!�� Aemon wailed, feeling betrayed.


    ��Shut up!�� Rhaenyra��s face darkened as she bent down to pick up Lyanna, who had stopped crying momentarily. ��It''s always you! Do you take pride in bullying girls?��


    ��Oh~..�� Lyanna��s eyes shed, and she began crying again, tears quickly soaking Rhaenyra''s clothes.


    ��No, you!�� Aemon stammered, pointing at Lyanna in frustration.


    Pop!


    Rhaenyra pped his hand away, her voice cold and stern. ��Who gave you permission to point at your sister?��


    ��Oh~~�� Lyanna howled even harder, her little head bobbing back and forth like a tumbler.


    Pop! Rhaenyra gave Lyanna a firm swat on the butt, her voice stern, "Tears are not a weapon. Hold them back."


    ��Ooh~�� Lyanna''s body jerked from the p, and her crying stopped abruptly.


    Rhaenyra''s gaze shifted to her second son, her emotions conflicting. ��Whoever caused the trouble is responsible. Apologize to your sister!��


    Lyanna cowered, her head down and eyes downcast. She couldn��t believe that her father��s first wife was so fair. Hmm... It seems I should call her aunt. The more Lyanna thought about it, the more confused she became. She held her hands up and covered her head, her scalp itching as if her brain was about to grow.


    Aemon looked sad and said reluctantly, ��I''m sorry.��


    Bang!


    Rhaenyra lifted her skirt and kicked her second son in the butt with her small shoes, scolding him, ��Apologize properly!��


    ��Oh, oh~~�� Aemon was on the verge of tears, but he shouted, ��Anna, I''m sorry!��


    Rhaenyra looked at the confused Lyanna and said slowly, ��What about you?��


    ��I''m sorry?�� Lyanna asked hesitantly.


    ��No.�� Rhaenyra sighed, exhausted. ��You have to decide whether to forgive him or not. This is your right.��


    ��Can I not forgive him?�� The little girl was vengeful.


    ��Yes,�� Rhaenyra said, cing the little dog��s ster back on the ground. ��You can choose to fight him or wait to get revengeter.��


    Aemon''s eyes lit up, and he silently rolled up his sleeves. Even the Trickster, who had been scolded for causing trouble, straightened up, its dragon''s maw curving into something that looked like a smile.


    Lyanna wasn��t stupid. Comparing Aemon''s height to Vermax''s, she turned around and hugged Rhaenyra''s leg. ��Fighting is not right. I''ll get revenge on himter.��


    ��You��re the boss.�� Rhaenyra sighed, grabbing Baelon by the ear. ��Watch over your younger siblings and don''t cause me trouble.��


    ��Yes, yes,�� Baelon gritted his teeth and red at Aemon.


    ��Hmph.�� Rhaenyra snorted, shaking her head as she returned to her original position.


    Lyanna tried to hug her leg again, but was dragged away by Ba and Rhaena. Themotion was finally over.


    In the corner, Maekar nced over a few more times before continuing to clean the scales of Tyraxes.


    ...


    Rhaenyra held her head high, like a victorious general returning home.


    Crack, crack, crack...


    Rhaegar leaned against the edge of the dragon pit and praised, ��You''re good at managing people. You''ve got a handle on those little ones.��


    ��Of course. Someone who also was spanked as a child and couldn''t escape it.�� Rhaenyra gave a mischievous smile and made a yful, empty p.


    Rhaegar was dumbfounded. When he was a child, he hadn''t been spared from being "disciplined" by his sister.


    But Rhaenyra truly is capable. After the two siblings had a heart-to-heart talk, they became more open-minded, treating their children impartially and giving them enough care. This maternal radiance is intoxicating.


    Rhaegar''s eyes fell on Rhaenyra''s red lips, and he was lost in thought. Rhaenyra tilted her head to the side, and her silver braided hair fell to her chest. Rhaegar''s gaze lowered further, catching the faint scent of milk from under the tear-stained hem of her dress. Her heart is indeed broad, too big to be measured with one hand.


    ��Sister~�� Rhaegar''s voice was very soft, like a spoiled child.


    ��Mmm-hmm.�� Rhaenyra smiled lightly, and the atmosphere became a little more delicate.


    ��I''m a little hungry.�� Rhaegar, always honest, walked up to her and picked her up in his arms.


    ��How old are you to be fighting over food with your daughter?�� Rhaenyra teased.


    ��Visenya has a wet nurse.��


    ��...��


    Rhaenyra looked up, her eyes gleaming with pride. As long as she lived, her position would be irreceable. Rhaegar could never escape her grasp.


    Without the children knowing, the two of them had already slipped out of the Dragonpit.


    ...


    Time passed, and the summer grew hotter and hotter.


    In Meereen, within the Great Pyramid, chaos reigned.


    ��Damn it, can''t they move faster?��


    ��Send a message to Qohor to build another hundred scorpion crossbows.��


    ��...��


    The hall was a cacophony of voices, with the Good Masters arguing among themselves.


    Bang! Bang! Bang!


    A man holding a scepter pounded the floor, drawing everyone''s attention.


    ��Almos, what is it?�� asked one of the young Good Masters.


    In the center of the hall stood a thin, gray-haired middle-aged man, straight-backed and imposing. His dark curly hair and dark brown skin were typical of a Ghis. Almos, dressed in magnificent attire, held a golden scepter carved with a Harpy.


    ��The Dragonlords of the Iron Throne areing, and our preparations are far from adequate,�� Almos dered with authority.


    ��What else can we do?��


    ��The craftsmen in Qohor worked through the night, but they can only make 400 scorpion crossbows.��


    ��Yunkai and Astapor have already dered martialw andpletely sealed off the sea.��


    Dozens of Good Masters were gathered, each voicing their opinions.


    At this moment, the importance of the system became apparent. Meereen, a ve city, relied on the Good Masters of the Free Cities to govern it. When faced with major challenges, their cohesion was put to the test.


    Almos, who owned the most ves andmanded significant respect, said, ��Braavos and Pentos refused to send troops to help us. We need to find other external support.��


    ��Qarth?��


    ��Qohor is definitely out. Their Unsullied were bought by Astapor.��


    ��...��


    The Good Masters continued their heated discussions, searching desperately for solutions.


    ��Gentlemen, there''s the Dothraki cavalry!�� Almos thumped the floor and spoke solemnly.


    ��I��ve contacted thergest Dothraki nomadic tribe in the Great Grass Sea. They have the best archers, and ours scorpion crossbows are even more powerful."


    There is no shortage of dragons that have been in in Targaryen history. With the wealth of ver''s Bay and the Dothraki''s bravery, it is not impossible to fight the Dragonlords. A thousand years ago, the Old Empire of Ghis, with itsnd forces, was able to resist the Freehold Empire for decades.


    ��Can the Dothraki be trusted?��


    ��If we let the Dothraki into the city, we''ll be inviting a wolf into our home.��


    ��I think it''s fine. The Dothraki only care about money.��


    Most of the Good Masters agreed, though a few remained skeptical. After all, the Dothraki are notorious for their brutality andck of honor. On the other hand, they do what they say they will do.


    After a heated discussion, the final vote was unanimous in favor of hiring the Dothraki to fight in the war. The decision was made. The Good Masters were betting their survival on the savagery and skill of the horse lords.


    ...


    At noon, the mes were high. Almos was alone, quietly walking through the hallways. As he passed avish room, the loud breathing of a man and multiple women engaged in a carnal act could be heard. The unmistakable sounds of pleasure echoed through the walls.


    ��Heh, a bastard Dragonlord?�� Almos''s stiff face broke into a smile. ��Whether it''s a real dragon or a bastard dragon, as long as it can be used, it''s a good dragon.��


    He continued on until he reached his destination.


    Sasa...


    A loft with a wide view came into sight. Inside, a ck-robed figure with a red painted mask was shaking an hourss. The hourss was reset, and the sand flowed slowly.


    A copper basin filled with red-hot coals sat on a shelf, emitting pungent smoke and sparks. Almos stood in the doorway, his eyes fixated greedily on the copper basin.


    Three petrified dragon eggs were buried under the coals, their presence radiating a subtle, ominous energy.

 Chapter 542: A Poison That Kills Dragonlords

    Chapter 542: A Poison That Kills Dragonlords


    Crackling...


    The sparks crackled, and the bottom of the dragon egg turned a bright red. Almos closed his eyes and took a deep sniff, as if he could smell the dragon.


    ��Don''t get your hopes up, master,�� the ck-robed wizard said, his deep voice resonating through the redcquered mask as he mixed a potion.


    Almos, momentarily entranced by the wizard''s enigmatic smile, replied, ��There''s always a chance, isn''t there?��


    ��Who knows,�� the ck-robed wizard responded, pouring a blood-red potion onto a gray-scaled dragon egg. The ck eyes under the mask were faintly visible. ��Things are always changing, like the magic tides.��


    ��I started out selling ves girls, and I believe that everything is possible if you put your mind to it,�� Almos said, approaching with his scepter, his eyes shining with excitement.


    The ck-robed wizard''s calm expression did not change as the blood-red liquid touched the hot dragon egg, causing a pungent mist of sulfur to form.


    ��What is its effect?�� Almos asked, his attention riveted on the egg.


    The ck-robed wizard whispered, ��Dragon blood potion, just like you recruiting me from Asshai, it''s nothing but a gimmick.�� He extended his five pale, bony fingers to touch the gray-scaled dragon egg soaked in the potion.


    Thump! Thump!


    The knuckles made a dull sound like stone. ��It''s still useless,�� the ck-robed wizard said, turning to flip through a yellowed ancient book. ��Blood sacrifice, a blood sorcery that deprives vitality. Why is it iplete?��


    This blood sorcerer came from the distant Lands of the Long Summer, but his work was prematurely destroyed. If the blood sorcery wereplete, it would have set off a new wave in the sorcerer world.


    ��It''s useless?�� Almos was impatient. He reached out to touch the dragon egg but withdrew his hand quickly due to the heat.


    Suddenly, he smelled a sweet and fishy scent and asked in a doubtful tone, ��What is the main ingredient of the dragon blood potion?��


    The ck-robed wizard didn''t even look up, responding in a bored tone, ��It''s obvious.��


    ��Aethyrys'' blood?�� Almos asked tentatively.


    The ck-robed wizard paused in his flipping through the pages and snorted. ��Is he even worth?��


    Hearing this, Almos''s eyes widened, and he burst into unprecedented enthusiasm. ��Is it true that the legend says dragonse from the Shadow Lands?��


    There are many different legends about dragons. The Dothraki believe that there were originally two moons in the sky. One of them was too close to the sun and exploded, giving birth to countless dragons. The mainstream legend says that dragons were born in the Fourteen mes of ancient Valyria. That is why they were discovered by the herdsmen of ancient Valyria and tamed and bred.


    The ck mage remained calm in the face of Almos'' sharp questions, answering lightly, "Things are always changing."


    "Is that true?" Almos, growing increasingly agitated and anxious about dealing with the dragons of the Iron Throne, urged, "Tell me, Quaithe, tell your master."


    The ck-cloaked wizard''s dark eyes shed with a hint of gloom beneath his painted mask. He said half-truthfully, ��Who says there''s only one ce in the world where dragons live? It''s just that humans are too weak to set foot there.��


    ��Where is it?�� Almos''s eyes lit up with curiosity.


    The ck-robed wizard turned his head, continuing to mix a blue potion. ��The Lord of Light told me that there are three dragons in the Smoking Sea. You can try your luck there.��


    ��What?�� Almos was stunned, processing the idea that there might be more than one young dragon in the Smoking Sea.


    Zi!


    A half-pipe of scarlet blood was poured in, and the potion turned from blue to transparent, a mournful dragon roar seemingly echoing in the air.


    Almos, puzzled, asked, ��What is it?��


    ��The dead,�� the ck-robed wizard replied, seeming to read Almos''s mind. He examined the potion carefully, muttering, ��A poison made using Aethyrys'' blood as a base.��


    The name of the potion is "Cry of the Dead".


    Almos couldn''t help but take the potion, asking curiously, ��Dragonlord''s blood as an ingredient, what is its effect?��


    ��To kill a Dragonlord,�� the ck-robed wizard answered seriously, bending down to look for something. ��There is the blood of a Firewyrm in it. If a Dragonlord drinks it, it will act like a parasite, causing his body to dry up and die.��


    With that, he took out a wooden box and said, ��To deal with Dragonlords, you can''t fight them on the front lines.��


    Almos opened the box and found three neatly arranged potions inside.


    ��Take it!�� The ck-robed wizard''s voice was luring. ��Find a way to get the king on the Iron Throne to take it without anyone knowing.��


    After a while, Almos walked out of the room with the wooden box in hand, stumbling past the bedroom where the music was ying.


    ...


    Storm''s End.


    Drizzling...


    Rain poured down, soaking the ancient castle that stood tall and proud. Cassandra stood expressionless at the window, gazing out at the long line of wagons carrying goods to and from the courtyard.


    Crack!


    A sh of lightning illuminated a second face in the dimly lit room.


    ��The treasury is half empty. From now on, we''ll all have to tighten our belts,�� Steffon Connington, the guard and lover, looked gloomy, his dissatisfaction evident. The goods should have been his and Cassandra''s. Half of their wealth had been lost because of a single word from Aemond, the one-eyed man.


    Cassandra sighed and asked, ��Did you get the results I asked for?��


    Steffon was taken aback and stammered, ��I hired a witch from Pentos to put a curse on him.��


    ��Curse?�� Cassandra turned her head slowly, her displeasure clear. ��Do you think it will work?��


    ��Maybe it will take a little time to settle,�� Steffon looked away, trying to find an excuse for his ipetence.


    Cassandra shook her head, exasperated. ��I should never have trusted you.��


    She walked out, leaving Steffon standing there, embarrassed and angry.


    ...


    "Sister."


    Outside the door, Maris had been waiting for a long time, bowing respectfully to greet her.


    Cassandra nced sideways and asked, ��How much money is left in the treasury?��


    Maris replied without hesitation, ��In recent years, the climate has been favorable, and Storm''s End''s finances are very good. There are still 30,000 gold dragons left.��


    Cassandra nodded. ��If Aemond sends another letter asking for money, you should give it directly to the Small Council in King''s Landing.��


    Her friend in Lys had sent word that Aemond had been exiled by the king. As his fianc��e, she had given him the money he asked for. But if he wanted more, House Baratheon could not afford it.


    ��I will, sister,�� Maris, like a good housekeeper, took note of her master''s requests.


    Cassandra was in a bad mood and wanted to go back to her room. She had taken two steps when she suddenly remembered something important.


    With a puzzled look on Maris'' face, Cassandra said, ��Of the four of us, Ellyn and I are already engaged, and Floris...��


    She paused, deciding not to mention it.


    Maris'' expression changed slightly, and she whispered, ��Has someone asked for her hand?��


    Cassandra smiled. ��There are two good options. Father promised Master of Laws Jasper that one of his daughters would marry his son. But his son got married a few years ago, and he himself has been widowed for several years.��


    Maris'' eyes twitched slightly, and she wanted to say something but stopped herself. Jasper was over forty, fat, and bald. Moreover, he was nicknamed ��Iron Rod.�� This nickname was not apliment to his strictw enforcement, but rather to the fact that he was a widower of many wives and was rumored to have an iron rod under his crotch that destroyed women by making them give birth.


    ��He''s not a good choice. My mother also advised me to decline the promise appropriately,�� Cassandra whispered.


    Maris was overjoyed and let out a sigh of relief. But then Cassandra reached out and touched her sister''s not-so-pretty face and said with a smile, ��You''re very lucky. Lord Rowan of The Reach has also proposed to you, You''ll be a Lady to a Warden of the Realm.��


    With that, she left with a brisk step.


    Maris'' face was stiff, and her eyes revealed a look of disgust. Lord Thaddeus Rowan, was the Warden of the The Reach. But he was a fat old man, widower of two wives, and had arge number of children. At this age, he was already half buried in the grave. Even thete Lord Borros, their father, would have called him ��Uncle�� Rowan.


    Drizzling...


    The rain was getting heavier and heavier, like a bucket of water. Maris took a long time to descend the stairs to the attic. If she remembered correctly, the castle had hired a new group of maids yesterday.


    ��My dear sister, I love you so much,�� Maris muttered to herself, feeling the damp and cold air, wrapping her arms around herself.


    ...


    Across the Narrow Sea, Lys.


    Sailors bustled in the harbor, loading various supplies onto the ships. On the blue sea, several fleets set sail, flying the gs of the roaring lion, the burning tower, the purple grape, and more. The dy of half a month had been used to gather arge army in preparation for the invasion of ver''s Bay.


    In the Dragonpit without a roof, the Dragonkeepers were in high spirits, holding their bamboo staves and spreading out on both sides.


    Boom!


    Cannibal''s green pupils were deep and sinister, and its hideous dragon head slowly emerged from the pit, crawling out. As it moved, a hot current of ash-smelling air surged. Even through their woolen clothing, the Dragonkeepers felt their skin tingle, as if they were being scorched by mes.


    ��Get down, Cannibal,�� Rhaegarmanded, walking straight up to the dragon, wearing a loose ck robe.


    ��Your Grace,�� the Dragonkeepers hurriedly bowed their heads.


    Rhaegar waved his hand dismissively and asked, ��Where is Maekar?��


    The old Dragonkeeper stepped forward and replied, ��The Prince and Princess are ying behind the Dragonpit.��


    ��Very well, you may leave,�� Rhaegar instructed. He then turned to the Cannibal, giving it a sternmand to wait where it was.


    ...


    At this time, the Targaryen children, who regarded the Dragonpit as a yground, were gathered together as usual. When Rhaegar arrived, the children were scheming and plotting.


    Lyanna was sitting on the floor with her legs apart, frowning. Baelon was saying all the right things, cradling a listless Bronze dragon cub in his arms. A few meters away, Aemon, arms folded, red at his brother, who wouldn''t y with him. Ba and Rhaena stood behind Aemon, holding hands. Only Maekar, as usual, was sitting in the corner with Tyraxes, amusing himself.


    ��Maekar!�� Rhaegar called out, beckoning to his youngest son.


    Maekar turned around and eximed in surprise, ��Father!�� He quickly got up and ran over to him.


    ��You''ve grown a little fatter, little one,�� Rhaegarughed as he picked up his young son, who was as light as a swallow returning to its nest. ��Are you brave enough to go with me to Vntis to find your great-grandmother Rhaenys?��


    ��Really?�� Maekar''s eyes widened, and he nodded like a chicken pecking at rice. ��I want to go.��


    He had heard that his father was the emperor of Vntis and that he alone had subdued the rebellious city. Of course, he wanted to go.


    Rhaegar pinched his cheek and reminded him, ��Vntis is still a bit dangerous, so I''m allowing you to bring your own dragon.��


    Vntis was a remote ce that needed a ruler. Just as Aemon, the second son, would one day inherit Lys, Maekar should be familiar with his own fiefdom early on.


    ��Father, where are you going?�� Baelon ran over at the sound of the voice, his eyes full of hope.

 Chapter 543: Rhaenyra: I’m Applying to War!

    Chapter 543: Rhaenyra: I��m Applying to War!


    The children swarmed around him, their eyes shining with curiosity and eagerness. Rhaegar rubbed his eldest son''s head and sighed, ��This time, I''m only taking Maekar. You need to stay in Lys.��


    ��Why can''t I go?�� Baelon asked, disappointment clear in his voice. ��I can take care of Maekar.��


    Rhaegar shook his head gently, ��Not yet. Maekar is only going for a brief visit.��


    Baelon''s face fell, and he muttered, ��Is it because I don''t have a dragon?�� He pointed to Tyraxes, who was yawning in the corner, and his eyes were full of stubbornness. ��All my younger siblings have dragons. They flew here with Mother when we came to Lys. You must be ashamed of me for not having one.��


    Rhaegar was taken aback by his son''s words. He squatted down in front of Baelon and asked, ��Do you want a dragon?��


    Baelon turned his head, whispering, ��If I''m a disappointment, maybe you should choose a better dragon yourself.��


    ��No, you''re not a disappointment,�� Rhaegar said firmly, lifting Baelon''s chin. ��Dragons aren''t tools; they''re creatures we should respect and bond with.��


    Baelon remained silent, still yearning for a dragon to join his father on adventures to the battlefield and the newnds they were conquering.


    Rhaegar took Maekar in one arm and his eldest son in the other, pressing their foreheads together. ��Think about it. If you truly want a dragon, I''ll do everything I can to help you bond with one.��


    Rhaegar favored Maekar, but he had never neglected Baelon. The eldest son was the heir and needed to be a strong leader.


    ��Take care of your younger siblings and keep your mind focused,�� Rhaegar advised, gently rubbing Baelon''s shoulder before standing up and walked away.


    ��Roar~~��


    Tyraxes followed its young master, leaving the field together. Baelon lowered his head, staring at his father''s retreating figure.


    ��Brother, don''t be upset.�� Lyanna approached, holding the small Vermax in her arms, and offered, ��I''ll lend you Vermax.��


    Baelon nced at her, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he rubbed her frizzy head. ��No need, Anna.��


    He had given away the dragon egg that eventually hatched into Vermax. It seemed ironic that the egg hadn''t hatched for him in six years but quickly did so in his sister''s care.


    ��Move over, little girl.�� Aemon pushed Anna aside, draping an arm around Baelon''s shoulders. ��Come on! I''ll take you back to Dragonstone. We��ll find Silverwing together.��


    If anyone understood Baelon''s heart, it was Aemon. Baelon nced at him, then pushed him away with a hint of irritation, ��Forget it. You��d probably wet your pants.��


    ��Go ahead and y. I need to go for a walk.��


    Baelon didn��t want anyforting words and left the Dragonpit in silence.


    Comfort is something only the weak need, he thought. His father had always told him he was born to be strong. And a strong man needs an adult dragon with overwhelming superiority.


    ...


    ��Roar...��


    ��Quiet, Syrax,�� Rhaegar called as he returned to the Dragonpit. His attention was immediately drawn to the golden beast.


    Syraxy sprawled on the floor, yfully shaking its head. Nearby, Rhaenyra, dressed in her ck dragon harness for the first time in a long while, gently rubbed the dragon��s chin.


    Rhaegar was taken aback. ��Rhaenyra, are you going on patrol?��


    ��No!�� Rhaenyra smiled, then announced, ��Wherever you go, I will go.��


    ��But I��m going back to Vntis. Lys can''t be left unguarded,�� Rhaegar protested, sensing trouble.


    Rhaenyra walked forward and took Maekar from his arms, her demeanor calm. ��I don��t want to stay behind. Laena will be my Warden in Lys.��


    Laena had been removed from the battlefield, Hena was home pregnant, and Aemond was exiled. The warcked frontline dragon riders, and Rhaenyra was ready to fill that void.


    ��The battlefield is dangerous,�� Rhaegar said bluntly.


    ��You��re in danger. How is that different from me being in danger?�� Rhaenyra''s eyes shone with determination. She took Rhaegar��s hand and ced it on her chest, pleading, ��I��m your sister. Let me be Visenya for once.��


    Since the Battle of the Second Stepstones, it had been her dream to fight alongside her brother. Unfortunately, she had been pregnant and giving birth repeatedly over the years. As her mother had predicted, the birthing bed had be her battlefield. Now, the great battle over family honor had begun again. She didn��t want to back down and hoped to make a contribution.


    Rhaegar turned his head, but he couldn��t avoid Rhaenyra��s burning gaze. He warned, ��When you get to the battlefield, you and Syrax will have to follow orders.��


    He couldn''t refuse Rhaenyra��s request, just as he had refused Baelon''s. Rhaenyra had the ability to ride a dragon into battle. Hiding her and burying her abilities would only ruin her.


    ��Puff!�� Rhaenyra was overjoyed. She kissed his cheek, affirming, ��Don��t worry, I��ll never be a hindrance.��


    ��You��d better be right.�� Rhaegar wiped the wet saliva from his cheek and pressed his lips together. ��Let��s go!��


    ...


    Over Lys.


    "Roar..." The dark wings of the dragon cast an ink-like shadow over the Free Cities, its thunderous roar echoing across the sky.


    Cannibal led the way, diving into the clouds.


    "After them, Syrax!" Rhaenyra''s crisp High Valyrianmand sent the topaz-colored dragon soaring, neighing in delight.


    Following behind, a young dragon with silver-gray scales and misty wings flew slowly, trailing therger dragons.


    In an attic of the Tower, Laena, d in a light nightgown with her shoulders and legs exposed, stood before the windows, gazing into the distance. She noticed a small boy tied to the back of the silver-gray dragon.


    "What kind of parents are these?" she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. Tying a child to the back of a dragon��who would think of such a thing? Do they really have so many children just to y with?


    Gurgle~


    The sound of her stomach rumbling surprised her, and she covered it with her hand. "I''m hungry again," she sighed, shaking her head. The shoulder strap of her nightgown slipped off her smooth shoulder as she turned to find something to eat.


    She walked lightly, her round, swaying figure below her waist half-covered in the white hem of her clothes. The nourishment of love had made her already plump figure even more mature and charming.


    ...


    In the same attic, Mysaria leaned against the windowsill, holding a curly-haired puppy in her arms.


    "Woof, woof~~" The little dog, clean and white, licked its tongue eagerly.


    Mysaria quietly looked out, her eyes filled with a hidden tangle of emotions. "Daemon, you always give me a hard time," she murmured, her voice tinged with frustration. She stroked the puppy''s head gently, finding some sce in its warmth and loyalty.


    If only that man were as docile and faithful as this dog, she wouldn''t be in this situation.


    He had left without a word, leaving her in Lys with an order to be carried out, treating her like a disposable tool��important only when needed.


    ...


    Summer hade to ver''s Bay. A fleet of ships bearing various gs blocked the entrance to the bay, severing seamunication with the outside world. On the banks of the Worm River, the massive Free City of Astapor, built of red brick, stood under the scorching sun, its towering walls bespeaking the city''s grandeur and impending trouble.


    On the majestic city walls, several Good Masters looked anxious, asionally whipping ves to vent their anger.


    Crack!


    ��Damn it, what did Meereen and New Ghis say!?�� A bald Wise Master brandished his whip, his frustration palpable.


    A whipped ve knelt on the ground, trembling, and replied, ��The sea of New Ghis is blocked, and a wooden box was sent by the envoy from Meereen.��


    New Ghis, an ind city-state at the mouth of ver''s Bay, was built on the ashes of the Old Empire of Ghis. After the fleet from Westeros attacked, it immediately raised the g of neutrality.


    ��Damn it, they don''t care about our lives!�� The bald Wise Master, enraged, whipped the ve across the face, shouting, ��If they don''t support us, the ves in the city will open the gates and surrender.��


    ��No! No!�� The ve, his face covered in open wounds from the whip, waved his hands in fear. ��We rely on the Good Masters for our lives and would never dare to betray them.��


    ��You worthless bones, get out of here!�� The bald Wise Master''s mood slightly improved, allowing the messenger ve to leave. He then turned to see the other Good Masters wandering around, each one distracted and lost in thought.


    A young Wise Master fell to his knees, his hands touching the ckened parapet. In a trance, he muttered, ��Dragon, such a beautiful golden dragon.��


    The Iron Throne''s fleet was stationed at the Worm River, effectively cutting off Astapor''s ess to the outside world. For several days, a golden dragon had been sent to burn the Free City, inciting panic and fear among its inhabitants.


    Ignoring the other Good Masters, the bald one opened the wooden box sent by the messenger. Suddenly, a hoarse cry rang out.


    ��Dragons! Run for your lives!��


    The bald Good Masters were shocked. Before they could react, they were already knocked down by a ck-armored soldier.


    ��Roar!�� A magnificent golden dragon burst through the clouds, and dragonfire, as intense as the sun''s surface, surged forward.


    ��More fire!�� Aegon, d in ck battle armor,manded in a mix of High Valyrian and themon tongue.


    Boom!


    Sunfyre��s pupils widened with excitement as it soared from one end of the city wall to the other, unleashing torrents of dragonfire.


    ��Roar!�� Sunfyre spit a round of fire into the air, its pale pink wing membranes shimmering like a rainbow.


    Thousands of Unsullied stood on the city walls, but some were too slow to dodge and were consumed by the dragonfire.


    ��Go, hurry!�� The Good Masters, with their shaved heads and smoky makeup, scrambled down the ramparts, escorted by the Unsullied.


    The Unsullied, well-trained and disciplined, did not back down in the face of the dragon. Under themand of their leader, identifiable by the three spikes on his helmet, they aimed their scorpion crossbows to fight back.


    ��Roar!�� Sunfyre spit out several more mouthfuls of dragonfire and quickly escaped before the scorpion crossbows could be fired.


    Aegon��s face turned red with exhration. He raised his arms in celebration: ��Well done! Today��s mission isplete.��


    ...


    The man and the dragon departed in style, leaving the Good Masters of Astapor with their hearts racing. As the golden dragon flew away, the Unsullied breathed a collective sigh of relief and, as they were ustomed to doing, began carrying away the charred corpses of theirrades.


    Beneath the city walls, two Unsullied nked the bald Wise Master on either side. He trembled, his face pale. ��No, we can''t go on like this,�� he muttered.


    The enemy had blocked the riverbank and sent dragons to attack every day. Astapor was now an isted city, its thousands of Unsullied troops unable to exert their full power.


    As he spoke, several Unsullied with heavy faces descended from the city walls. One of them carried a body adorned with luxurious jewelry, the stench of burning flesh still lingering.


    "This, this..." The bald Wise Master''s eyes widened in disbelief, his voice catching in his throat. The sight of the fallen, once-proud master, now a charred husk, left him speechless.


    ...


    On the other side, Aegon returned to his camp after the sessful attack. He dismounted from Sunfyre and looked around, searching for someone.


    Frustrated by the disarray, he stormed through the camp, overturning supplies and barking orders. Finally, he called for the Maester who apanied the army.


    The Maester hurried over, his face a mix of concern and curiosity. Aegon, not known for his patience, snatched a parchment and quill from the Maester��s satchel. He bit down on the quill in frustration, then hastily scrawled a few lines of barely legible scratch.

 Chapter 544: Pampering Maekar

    Chapter 544: Pampering Maekar


    One day and nightter.


    Rhaegar held the letter in his hands, barely recognizing the High Valyrian script on it. "A letter from Aegon?" he murmured.


    Rhaenyra leaned closer, her fragrant presence enveloping him. "Who else could write such terrible handwriting?" she teased.


    Rhaegar''s face darkened. He handed the letter to Maekar, who was nestled in his arms, and threatened, "If you write like this, I''ll chop off your paws."


    Maekar withdrew his hand quickly and replied, "Grand Maester Munkun said that my handwriting is quite good."


    Rhaegar rolled his eyes and tried to decipher the contents of the letter. It could be summarized in one sentence: Astapor''s defenses are weak. Can we attack the city quickly?


    Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, leaned over Rhaegar''s back, and hugged his neck. Biting his ear lightly, she whispered, "Do you want to?"


    "The child is still here," Rhaegar replied, pursing his lips in mock annoyance.


    Maekar silently turned his head to look out at the bustling city below the ck Wall.


    The family of three was in Vntis. Aegon, who was far away on the Stepstones, was now the main force attacking ver''s Bay.


    Rhaenyra smiled and asked, "I said, should we attack Astapor?" She paused deliberately, adding to the tension.


    As the Queen of Lys and Queen of the Realm, Rhaenyra was always under high pressure. Not only was she busy with government affairs, but she also had to guard against any rivals who dared to climb into her husband''s bed. The duty of bearing children almost deprived her of her freedom.


    Not to mention the long-established ver''s Bay, even the newly conquered Vntis was her first step. She couldn''t wait to fight and repeat the feats of Queen Visenya.


    Rhaegar broke free from her soft embrace and leaned against the parapet. He had already made up his mind. "Wait a little longer. Astapor will be ours."


    The sky above was blue and white, and the ck Wall towered beneath their feet. Rhaenyra looked up and down at Rhaegar, enchanted by hismanding presence, and whispered, "Oh?"


    In her heart, she whispered to herself. She was already thirty years old. Even though she had received some kind of blessing, her appearance still remained around twenty, and her figure was still slender and graceful. But she still had to deal with anxiety.


    After all, Hena, who had fought many battles with Rhaegar, was younger and more beautiful, and had more achievements than she did.


    In contrast, Rhaegar was only twenty-two years old, in the prime of his life. His good looks were celebrated throughout the Seven Kingdoms and beyond. Of course, the tales of the ruin maker may have spread even further.


    Rhaegar did not know what she was thinking. He ced Maekar on the parapet, where his small body could be overturned by a gust of wind.


    Rhaenyra''s expression tightened, but she chose to trust him.


    Maekar sat on the cold ck stone, his legs dangling over the edge of the wall, his pale face taut with anxiety.


    Rhaegar leaned over the parapet, his elbows resting on the stone, and asked his young son, ��Are you afraid?��


    ��No,�� Maekar replied, leaning back slightly, though his voicecked conviction.


    Rhaegar chuckled, ��Anyone who isn��t afraid is a fool. Only your brother Baelon would dare to do this.��


    Maekar remained silent, thinking that father could be hard to understand at times.


    Rhaegar''s expression turned serious. ��Look down below. There are all kinds of people, some dressed in fancy clothes, others carrying baskets.��


    ��Mm.�� Maekar nodded emphatically and stared intently.


    Under the ck Wall, the wealthy district sprawled out. The streets were wide, with all kinds of shops, inns, and brothels, bustling with people of all sses. Luxurious ve owners walked alongside ragged ves. In a few secluded alleys, clients could be seen pping the round, perky breasts of prostitutes.


    Rhaegar pointed at a greasy merchant sitting on a low elephant cart, along with the old ve who was driving it, and said coldly, ��Remember, these are mine for the time being, and one day in the future, they will be yours.��


    ��Mine?�� Maekar pointed to himself, wide-eyed.


    ��Yes.�� Rhaegar made a sweeping gesture, including the blue sky above and the gray tiles below. ��You are my son, the future prince of Vntis, and everything here will be yours.�� Then, in High Valyrian, he said solemnly, ��<i>Zaldr��zo ��nogar iksan</i>. (You are the blood of the dragon.)��


    Maekar was stunned, halfprehending. The sudden bestowal of a fiefdom and title left his quick mind a bit overwhelmed.


    After a moment, Rhaegar smiled and said, ��Don��t worry, your brothers all have their own territories. You��re not the only one.��


    ��Isn��t it a bit early to talk about this with him?�� Rhaenyra asked in surprise.


    ��Too early?�� Rhaegar repeated, unfazed. ��When you were heir to the Iron Throne, I had no interest in it.�� He paused, then added sternly, ��Even now, it��s still the same.��


    Power is scary? Yes and no. To guide his children down the right path, Rhaegar believed they first needed strong minds. They were Targaryens, thest dragonlords of ancient Valyria. From the moment they were born to the moment they rode their dragons into the sky, power was within their grasp.


    Rhaegar wasn��t worried about his children fighting for power. What could be more important than family and dragons? Whether it was Baelon or Aemon, Maekar or Lyanna... when they rode their dragons, the world was at their feet. Power was nothing more than an ignorant desire when the heart was broken.


    Like Daemon, Aegon, Aemond, and even the submissive little Daeron, all were troubled by what theycked in their youth. If they didn''t break free, they would never be at peace.


    Rhaenyra heard this and said nothing. In a way, she too was troubled by being abandoned by her father and losing her status as heir. Proving herself was the fate of every generation of Targaryens.


    Rhaegar patted Maekar on the head, confident that he wouldn''t fall from the wall. ��Enjoy yourself. This is your birthright,�� he said. ��But never forget to have a healthy respect for life. Cruel people don''t necessarily go to hell, but those who kill innocents for no reason will not have a good ending.��


    Maekar was puzzled. Looking at the people below the ck Wall, he asked, ��How do I rule them?��


    The question was straightforward, showing no hint of indecision. Rhaegar admired this about his youngest son. He was decisive and unembarrassed, unlike his eldest and second sons. Heughed and said, ��The best way to manage them is to set rules and let them fight among themselves.��


    Maekar tilted his head, indicating that he didn''t understand.


    Rhaegar exined patiently, ��What is the system of Myr and Lys?��


    Maekar squinted, trying to understand.


    ��Myr has a three-chamber parliament, with representatives elected by the old nobility, themoners, and the ves,�� Rhaegar began. ��After the identity cards were issued, new factions, such as the Artisans'' Guild, the Healers'' Guild, and the Maesters'' Guild, gradually emerged. Eachyer is divided and controlled by another. Even if I don''t live in Myr, the Free Cities function effectively under this vast system.��


    He continued, ��Lys has a Topless Tower system, with a queen and three councilors. Rhaenyra is a hands-off leader, and Johanna and Laena, one inside and one outside, manage the city well. Johanna is a native of Lys, and Laena is a noble from outside. The two sides counterbncing each other is the best check and bnce.��


    Maekar still looked confused, his thoughts not quiteing together.


    Rhaegar smiled and said, ��Think about it slowly. You��ll understandter.�� He decided to keep Maekar in Vntis for a while to observe the cruel rules of the Free Cities. Baelon and Aemon''s personalities were already set, with no major changes expected in the future. Maekar was still young and more malleable.


    ��Okay,�� Maekar agreed, even though he didn''t fully understand.


    The child didn''t grasp it, but Rhaenyra, who was listening, did. Thinking of Johanna''s struggle with the foreign powers and the three Free Cities of ver''s Bay, Rhaenyra suddenly realized, ��The three Free Cities will attack each other?��


    ��They won''t have a chance,�� Rhaegar shook his head. ��Aegon harasses Astapor, and Daemon holds Yunkai in check. With two of the three cities under attack, Meereen is alone and cannot risk sending help. ver''s Bay has no chance to unite and fight against the enemy together.��


    Rhaenyra frowned slightly and guessed, ��There will be problems within Astapor?��


    ��Aegon''s dragon harassment has already established an implicit rule of oppression. The Good Masters in the city won''t be able to withstand the pressure for long,�� Rhaegar smiled, not denying her assumption.


    ording to the Red Priestess''s intelligence, Meereen is the main force that worships the bastard Dragonlord. Just like the Triarchy in the past, when Lys controlled Morghul.


    The other two Free Cities are just taking advantage of the situation. A group of despicable ve traders, without any sense of honor or decency. Without the substantial benefits brought by the bastards Dragonlords and the Smoking Sea young dragon, how could they be willing to die?


    At that moment, footsteps approached from behind. Rhaenys, dressed in red armor and looking exhausted, walked over quickly and said in surprise, ��I just returned from patrol and heard the news of your visit.��


    ��Aunt,�� Rhaenyra said, smiling. The three of them had first traveled to the Worm River to see Aegon and then returned to Vntis. In total, they had only been there for a day.


    Rhaenys was happy to see her family and asked, ��How is Laena?��


    ��She��s fine. Daemon has already named Ba as his sessor.�� Rhaenyra��s expression was mixed, and she said it with some reluctance. She had thought Laena would break off the rtionship, but she had blossomed. Mysaria, the White Worm, was in an awkward position, and Daemon had not said when he would marry her. Rhaenyra was not happy about being involved in this.


    Rhaegar nced at her and took her hand. Rhaenyra was taken aback for a moment, but then she smiled.


    ��Your Grace, Your Grace!�� A voice called out urgently, and a blond figure came running. Tnd, with his back hairbed and stubble visible, panted, ��The finances of Vntis have been handled properly, and the Tiger and Elephant parties have confiscated a lot of money.��


    ��Thank you, Tnd.�� Rhaegar noticed the redness in the other''s eyes and gave him proper encouragement: ��I n to let you stay in Vntis and serve as the chief advisor.��


    ��Really?�� Tnd was both surprised and delighted, and quickly said, ��Sorry, I��m just too excited.��


    With the Tiger and Elephant parties out of power in Vntis, the management was left with only low-level officials. If he bes the chief advisor, he will beparable to the Hand of the King in Westeros. It��s much more valuable than being a Master of Ships with no real power.


    Rhaegar nodded slightly in agreement. "You are the right man."


    He then grabbed Maekar by the cor, cing him at Tnd''s feet, and said solemnly, ��He''s yours. From now on, you''ll be his teacher.��


    ��Huh?�� Maekar was stunned. Tnd also reacted simrly, dumbfounded as he pointed at the little prince, who was no taller than his knees. ��Isn''t the Prince too young?�� he asked helplessly.


    ��He is just a bit small,�� Rhaegar admitted, his tone calm.


    Tnd''s heart sank. He didn''t want to be a nanny for a child, no matter how noble. But before he could voice his thoughts, Rhaegar continued, ��But Maekar is a little genius, and he won''t give you too much trouble.��


    Rhaegar''s confident demeanor reminded Tnd of stereotypical parents who believe their children are prodigies. Tnd wanted to refuse but dared not speak up. He forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. ��Your Grace trusts me, so I... I''ll give it a try.��


    ��I''ll try too,�� Maekar said, his voice sullen as he grabbed Tnd''s pant leg. He could sense the other man''s reluctance. He was a tterer who always had to be on his best behavior in front of his father.

 Chapter 545: I Will Ride Him Over Again

    Chapter 545: I Will Ride Him Over Again


    Qohor


    One of the nine Free Cities, a rare ind city.


    ��Roar!�� The brown dragon��s wings cut through the sky as the ugly mud dragon shrieked.


    ��Steady, Sheepstealer,�� Aemondmanded, displeasure evident in his voice. He held a trembling, delicate figure in his arms.


    Celine''s face was pale, and she whispered, ��I��m fine.��


    Aemond frowned and slowed Sheepstealer''s pace. He probably shouldn��t have brought his paramour along. A Celtigar, with their typical sea-faring background, was not ustomed to the dragon of blood and fire.


    ��Prince, are we almost there?�� Celine asked, her eyes dizzy and barely open.


    Aemond looked down at her and said confidently, ��After crossing the Thenn River, Qohor is not far away.��


    Celine nodded in relief. The destination of this trip was Qohor.


    ��Close your eyes for a while. I��ll wake you when we get there.�� Aemond hugged Celine��s slender waist, resting his pointed chin on her silver-blonde curls, fully enjoying the moment of tranquility.


    Celine was the best woman he had ever shared a bed with. She was younger than the brothel madam and more mature than Floris. When he spent his first night in High Tide in Celine��s bed, she was still a virgin. Thank the Sevens for thete Laenor, his cousin.


    It was his alternative orientation that allowed him to pick up a Valyrian woman who looked so much like his sister.


    Such a good catch.


    ��Roar!��


    Sheepstealer leapt through a vast forest, suddenly lowering its head to roar in warning. Aemond opened his eyes wide, peering down with great caution.


    Belowy the Forest of Qohor, thergest primeval forest on the continent of Essos. Among the lush, towering trees, the noise of people and horses was evident. A cavalry unit advanced slowly along a winding path that stretched for more than ten miles.


    Aemond��s one eye widened, focusing on the barbaric attire of the cavalry. They wore animal skins and carried curved swords and bows. Men, women, and children all rode tall horses, following the procession in an orderly manner.


    ��These are the Dothraki!�� Celine opened her eyes and said weakly.


    ��Yes, a bunch of wild men from the Great Destion,�� Aemond replied, his expression grim. He suddenly noticed the carts mixed in with the cavalry. Several horses were pulling carts covered in rags. From their towering bulges and the shape of the crossbows, it was not difficult to guess what they were.


    ��Scorpion crossbows from Qohor, escorted by Dothraki?�� Aemond��s eyes lit up with excitement. ��The weapons were purchased for ver��s Bay, and the wildlings were hired.��


    He had been exiled for half a month and had heard nothing about the war. But judging by this Dothraki tribe of over 10,000 people, the family must have dered war on ver��s Bay.


    ��Should I take this news back?�� Aemond��s eyes shed with excitement but quickly dismissed the idea. He patted the dragon��s back and urged, ��Hurry up, Sheepstealer!��


    ��Roar!�� Sheepstealer snarled, pping its tattered brown wings and disappearing into the forest in an instant.


    Aemond smiled and muttered, ��First, I��ll have the Crab ws remade, then I��ll gather a group of mercenaries. Who can stop me now?�� He was determined to make his name known throughout the continent of Essos.


    ...


    Time passes slowly...


    ver''s Bay, Astapor.


    The city walls are in a terrible state, ckened by fire and death, and the air is thick with the stench of burning. Inside the Free City, the ancient streets are filled with the sound of people, and the ground is covered with garbage and excrement. The Wise Masters are hiding in the pyramids, calling on the Unsullied to protect them in every way.


    The ves are kept in stables like livestock, chained around their necks. asionally, one or two ves escape, but they are so emaciated that they can barely walk. They don''t get far before they fall into a puddle of mud. The patrols quickly catch them, cutting off their necks with a single blow and feeding them to the beasts in the arena like dead dogs.


    ��Roar...�� A yellow jade dragon soars through the sky, plunging into the thick clouds. The sound of the dragon''s roar makes the Wise Masters of the Free City tremble.


    In the western district, a 400-foot-tall pyramid stands. At this moment, the Wise Masters are flocking to the site. Without exception, they discuss how to deal with the inevitable war.


    The fleet has blockaded the Worm River, and there is a shortage of food in Astapor. The dragons harass them every day, and the people in the city are in a panic. The Wise Masters are going mad without a solution.


    ...


    Worm River, the garrison.


    "Roar..."


    At the entrance to the camp, a yellow dragon slowlynded. Rhaenyra rolled off the dragon''s wing, lifted her hand, and bit off her glove, eximing, ��Well done, Syrax.��


    "Roar..."


    Syrax''s pupils were gentle, and the dragon''s snout arched to nuzzle its rider, just like a spoiled little girl.


    "Today''s mission isplete, good girl." Rhaenyra rubbed the dragon''s chin and turned to enter the camp.


    "Your Grace," two Kingsguard in silver armor and white robes, one tall and one short, greeted her.


    "Thank you, Ser," Rhaenyra replied, walking briskly. She was already familiar with the two new Kingsguards.


    One was tall and handsome, with silver hair and blue eyes, Bael Dayne of House Dayne of Starfall. The other was short and stocky, with gray curly hair and green eyes, and a harmless baby face, Hall Reed from Greywater Watch, known for its archery.


    One was the Lord of Starfall, the other was the second son of a lord. They had earned their ces in the Kingsguard through their strength and skill.


    ...


    Rhaenyra moved quickly through the camp. Before she reached her destination, she saw a group of people in rags and hemp clothes rushing out.


    ��Huh?�� Rhaenyra looked closer and recognized Grey Worm, the leader of the Unsullied, among them. The others appeared to be low-ranking officers or former ves.


    Inside the tent, Rhaegar was ying with a gold coin engraved with the image of a Harpy. With a flick of his finger, the coin flipped through the air.


    "Back already?" Rhaegar looked up suddenly, his concern evident. "How was it? Did you encounter any resistance?"


    "No," Rhaenyra replied, pouring herself a cup of wine. "Did you give Grey Worm a mission?"


    After more than a month of siege, Astapor had gone from initial resistance toplete copse. Rhaegar had only requested ships and food from the rear, never mentioning an offensive.


    Rhaegar smiled mysteriously, got up, pushed Rhaenyra back into her chair, and whispered, "The Wise Masters in the city can''t take the pressure anymore. Someone came to me asking for peace."


    "What are the terms?" Rhaenyra looked at him sideways, trying to guess his intentions.


    Rhaegarughed, "The Wise Masters want money, and I want an army."


    Rhaenyra was shocked. "They''ll sell you their weapons?"


    The Unsullied trained in Astapor were world-renowned. In the midst of war, how could the Wise Masters sell their strongest army?


    "They didn''t say how many, but I don''t think it will be more than half of the city''s total," Rhaegar half-sat on the table, his eyes slightly narrowed, and said slyly, "But I want them all."


    ...


    At night, the sky was pitch dark.


    At the base of the red-gray wall, burnt and dismembered corpses were piled haphazardly, forming a gruesome mound. Grey Worm''s face was pale as he sidestepped a few bodies with ckened armor fused to their flesh, making his way to the base of the wall to search with the others.


    ��Here,�� a fellow Unsullied called out, digging into a muddy drainage hole. The hole was notrge, resembling a dog hole rather than one made for humans.


    Grey Worm took out a chisel and began hammering away at the drainage hole, erging it to a size that could fit a person. The light flickered as a group of Unsullied soldiers patrolled the city walls. The night wind blew, and the moon was covered by dark clouds.


    ��Hurry up,�� Grey Worm urged. He first shoved a jingling sack into the hole, then led the way through it. Back in this old purgatory, he never thought he would have to find another way.


    A momentter, several figures moved through the city under curfew, skillfully avoiding the patrolling soldiers. After a while, they blended in with a pyramid''s shadow. Shortly after, they quietly slipped out.


    Grey Worm lifted the sack, which was more than half empty. ��Next,�� he whispered, his voice low but filled with excitement.


    ...


    For three days, everything seemed calm.


    The Wise Masters, after careful deliberation, opened the city gates and requested negotiations. With a bang, five thousand Unsullied marched out of the Free Cities, apanied by three thousand mercenaries paid for by the Wise Masters. A dozen Wise Masters, dressed in their finest attire, set up a temporary pavilion outside the city gates. Behind them, a huge bronze statue of a Harpy loomed over the city gate, its talons appearing to clutch hundreds of huddled ves like prey.


    ��Roar!�� A thunderous roar echoed through the sky as a ck dragon the size of a mountain slowly took flight. Two golden dragons of simr size nked the ck dragon. The Second Sons cavalry followed, escorting a convoy of carts loaded with boxes.


    After a while, both sides took their seats. The Wise Masters sat at the head of the pavilion, each one plump and well-fed, resembling well-dressed pigs. The leader was a mature woman with dark skin, wearing only a light beige veil that highlighted her long, bouncy legs.


    ��Wow, she''s a real beauty,�� Aegon smiled, his eyes fixed on the woman.


    The mature woman tilted her head and suddenly spread her legs, revealing a generous patch of ck hair. Aegon was shocked, his smile vanishing. Rhaegar brushed past him,pletely ignoring the rip in his sackcloth.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes narrowed, and her voice was low: ��You''re a disgrace.��


    The first meeting between the two sides was obviously not very pleasant. The three siblings stood in the center of the gazebo, looking up at the Wise Masters gathered there. Each Good Master had a ve girl at their side, asionally holding a whip. The mature woman sat in the middle, staring straight at Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar, with his silver hair braided into a it, looked around with interest. The mature woman was clearly intrigued by him. Regardless of his status, he was nothing more than a tall, handsome man to her. The inhuman beauty of the Targaryens was perfectly embodied in him. She wondered howfortable it would be to ride him.


    ��Take your eyes off him, ve master!�� Rhaenyra''s face grew cold as she warned in High Valyrian.


    The mature woman looked at her in surprise and replied in the samenguage: ��Your husband is very handsome. When you were brother and sister, did you ever ride him secretly?��


    ver''s Bay was built on the ruins of ancient Ghis, which was once a ve of ancient Valyria. Today, people of status were proud to speak fluent High Valyrian.


    Rhaenyra smiled, her most gentle expression delivering the most ruthless words: ��When I cut off your head, I will put it by the bed so you can watch me ride him.��


    ��Puff!�� Aegon couldn''t help butugh.

 Chapter 546: Subduing the 5,000 Unsullied

    Chapter 546: Subduing the 5,000 Unsullied


    Rhaenyra nced sideways, her eyes cold and piercing.


    Aegon quickly covered his mouth and coughed, recalling the saddest moments of his life.


    The mature woman shifted her gaze to Rhaegar, who had not said a word. With a doubtful expression, she said, ��Your Grace of the Iron Throne, don��t you think a jealous woman is boring?��


    She leaned forward, her deep-necked blouse exposing more as her upper body pressed down on her raised legs, revealing her ample chest. The posture was more seductive than that of the best bed ve.


    Rhaegar remained calm, his expression unchanged. He looked at the Wise Masters next to the woman and said lightly, ��We havee to negotiate with you, but where is your sincerity?��


    His voice, still in High Valyrian, was full of a different kind of nobility.


    ��We have prepared two thousand Unsullied, as long as you can afford the price,�� the mature woman said, her eyes shing with displeasure as she pulled up the cor of her blouse.


    Rhaegar ignored her, continuing to stare at the silent Wise Masters. ��The premise of the deal is that you surrender the city and release all the ves,�� he said coldly.


    ��You may call yourself the Breaker of Chains, but we will not agree to your unreasonable demands,�� the mature woman retorted angrily.


    The other Wise Masters remained silent, pretending to be deaf and dumb.


    Rhaegar lowered his gaze to the woman and said coldly, ��I��m talking to them, don��t interrupt me.��


    With just one nce, the mature woman felt a lump in her throat. Her long legs subconsciously closed together, and she was embarrassed in public, wanting to refute him. But seeing his handsome, cold face, she found herself unable to speak. It was as if she were a female ve, afraid to disobey the orders of the Wise Masters.


    The scene froze for a moment, and finally, several male Wise Masters began to speak.


    One of them, with triangr eyes and a shaved head, weighed the whip in his hand and said sternly, ��Astapor is a ve city-state. Losing ves is no different from killing us.��


    ��That��s none of my business,�� Rhaegar said indifferently. ��You worship the false Aethyrys Dragonlords, and you must pay the price.��


    The bald Wise Masters looked at each other coldly. ��We can sell you more Unsullied to kill the false Dragonlord.��


    ��How many?�� Rhaegar immediately responded.


    ��Two thousand five hundred, no more,�� the Good Master said through gritted teeth. ��We only have five thousand trained Unsullied, and we can��t sell them all to you.��


    ��Not enough.�� Rhaegar held up three fingers and said firmly, ��Five thousand Unsullied, five hundred gold dragons each.��


    ��You��re robbing us!�� the bald Good Master shouted, furious.


    The normal price for an Unsullied is 800 gold dragons, with a discount for buying in bulk. The price of 500 gold dragons per person was far too low to buy all the Unsullied. It was just wishful thinking.


    Rhaegarughed, pointed at the sky, and asked, ��With three dragons overhead, what do you think I��m doing?��


    ��Roar!��


    Cannibal, in perfect sync with him, soared through the air and spat out a stream of miserable green Dragonfire, obscuring the blinding sun.


    The sight of the Dragonfire,bined with the roar, left not only the bald Wise Masters but everyone present in shock. They looked up at the blue sky and saw the three dragons circling overhead, like three ominous war machines.


    ��By the Harpy!�� The mature woman��s eyes went vacant, and her crotch was wet.


    It took a long time for the Wise Masters to recover from their shock. After some careful consideration, they made a decision.


    The bald Good Master looked miserable: ��We agree, but your fleet must withdraw from the Worm River.��


    As long as the ve trade was restored, money would always flow in.


    Rhaegar smiled slyly and said, ��No problem. The money is right behind us.��


    He then stepped aside to reveal the caravan escorted by the Second Sons.


    The bald Wise Masters saw this and their faces brightened a little: ��Deal.��


    ��Wait!�� Rhaegar stopped them and held out his hand: ��Give me the whip thatmands the Unsullied.��


    One of the Wise Masters immediately interrupted: ��We need to finish counting the money first.��


    The other Wise Masters hesitated, rubbing the whip in their hands.


    Rhaegar sneered, "Do you think I would bother to fool with three dragons at mymand?"


    Upon hearing this, the Wise Masters looked up at the sky again. The three dragons circled slowly, thergest of them, a pitch-ck dragon, wasparable to arge pyramid.


    The bald Wise Masters gave in and ordered a ve to fetch a whip. The whip was beautiful and ced on a tray. The mature woman got up of her own ord, holding the tray in both hands and walking down the steps, bowing respectfully as she handed it over.


    ��Thank you,�� Rhaegar took the whip directly.


    The whip was simr to a dragon-taming whip, with a golden statue of the eagle-goddess Gwyllion as its handle. Rhaegar gave Rhaenyra and Aegon a look, then walked out of the pavilion with the whip in his hand.


    On the barrennd, 5,000 Unsullied in ck armor stood in perfect formation, like a dark cloud.


    Boom!


    Cannibal descended slowly, raising its head high. Rhaegar climbed onto the dragon''s back, overlooking all the Unsullied from a high vantage point, and shouted with his whip in hand, ��Unsullied, obey mymand!��


    Swish!


    The 5,000 Unsullied moved at the sound of the whip, forming a single column in a single direction.


    ��This thing is no better than a dragon tamer''s whip,�� Rhaegar looked on with aplex expression. ��Unfortunately, the price is the loss of humanity.��


    The Unsullied, to put it inly, were a group of mindless zombies. Whoever holds the whipmands them.


    In the pavilion at the back, the Wise Masters sent someone to check the money and drink a celebratory toast in advance.


    ��Unsullied, who is your master?�� Rhaegar stood on the back of the dragon, his voice spreading far and wide with the help of a spell that amplified his words through the dragon.


    Swish!


    Five thousand Unsullied struck their round shields with their spears, silently pledging their loyalty. Rhaegar��s lips curled up, a sense of aplishment welling up in him.


    On the other side, the ve who was checking the money opened the boxes one by one, finding not a single gold dragon coin. All that could be seen were lumps of worthless rock.


    ��They''re fake!�� The ve hurried back to the pavilion, breaking the harmonious atmosphere of the Wise Masters.


    ��What? No gold coins?!�� The Wise Masters'' faces turned pale, their wine cups shattering to the ground.


    Roar!


    Cannibal raised its head and roared, turning its long neck towards the pavilion. Rhaegar''s face was solemn, and his voice was loud and clear: ��Unsullied, kill the Wise Masters in front of you, kill the soldiers, and kill everyone who carries a whip!��


    ��No! This is a trick!�� The Wise Masters were stunned and fled in a panic.


    However, it was toote.


    Swish!


    The 5,000 Unsullied received their orders and without hesitation, pointed their spears at the very beings who had oppressed them in the past.


    Pop!


    The spears pierced the mercenaries'' bodies and the ve soldiers'' chests. The pavilion was surrounded, and the fleeing Wise Masters were swiftly eliminated. The negotiation had instantly turned into a massacre.


    Rhaenyra''s purple eyes were sharp as she spotted the mature woman fleeing in panic. With a single motion, she unsheathed her sword from her waist.


    ng~~


    The Realm''s Delight was unsheathed, its sun-carved pattern glistening in the light. ��Ha ha, don''t run,�� she muttered, her excitement barely contained.


    Aegon, equally exhrated, shouted, ��Dracarys, Sunfyre!��


    Roar!


    The golden Sunfyre descended, smashing through the roof of the pavilion. Simultaneously, the Cannibal soared into the air, carrying Rhaegar, and unleashed Dragonfire upon the confused mercenaries. Syrax followed closely behind, targeting the ve soldiers on the city walls.


    ��No! Don''t!�� screamed a Good Master.


    ��Run! There''s a rebellion!�� shouted another.


    Inside the Free Cities, a fire broke out, and the chaotic cries of battle filled the air. In an instant, the scene transformed into a gruesome scene of blood and fire.


    ...


    It was gettingte; dusk was falling over Astapor.


    ��Roar...��


    Syrax stood on the city wall, intimidating the countless ves who bowed down in worship. Smoke filled the air of the Free Cities, and two dragons soared through the sky.


    Rhaegar stood beside the dragons, with 5,000 Unsullied standing straight at the foot of the city.


    ��Unsullied, step forward!��


    Rhaegar held a whip in his hand and shouted.


    Swish!


    The 5,000 Unsullied moved forward in unison at the sound of the whip.


    Rhaegar wiped his bloodied cheek and shouted, ��You have been ves your whole lives, but today you are liberated!��


    The Unsullied''s faces were numb, and they raised their heads slightly.


    Rhaegar threw the whip down from the city wall and boldly dered, ��Anyone can leave freely without being harmed. I promise!��


    The Unsullied''s eyes, which were like pools of stagnant water, began to waver, unable to believe their ears. Perhaps, it was another test of loyalty from the ve owner.


    ��Roar...��


    Syrax roared, and the dragon''s head reached out to Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar did not look away, clenched his fists, and shouted, ��The ancient Valyrians enved life, and they destroyed for it. Astapor enved life, and today it is also in ruins. No one can enve another, and those who do so will surely die!��


    Rhaegar looked around and said bluntly, ��Who will fight for me, for Rhaegar Targaryen the First? Today, as free men!��


    Silence followed��deadly quiet, you could hear a pin drop. The 5,000 Unsullied saw him, heard him, and fell into a deep silence.


    Suddenly, several figures walked out of the city gates. Grey Worm, wearing rags and carrying a three-pronged ck helmet under his arm, walked forward step by step. The rest of them were either wearing ck armor or carrying broken shackles. Their faces were solemn as they walked towards the army of Unsullied.


    One step, two steps...


    When they were less than 100 meters away, Grey Worm suddenly turned around and knelt on one knee:


    ��Rhaegar Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and of the Narrow Sea, Settler of the Disputed Lands, Breaker of Chains, Shepherd of Dragons...��


    The endless list of titles dwarfed the great deeds of the present.


    Grey Worm''s eyes were wild with devotion as he said, ��Wherever your sword points, we will follow you!��


    ng!


    The rest of the men fell to their knees and threw off their shackles and chains like they were worn-out shoes.


    Rhaegar silently looked down, drew Truefyre, raised it high, and shouted only one word: ��Blood and Fire!��


    The 5,000 Unsullied were all moved, and their numb faces were infused with new life.


    Dong dong!


    A figure stepped forward and struck the ground with a spear. Like a single spark igniting a prairie fire, the action spread through the army.


    Swish!


    More and more Unsullied stepped forward, banging the ground in a cathartic manner. The force was so great that it sounded like the beating of a dense drum. The ground trembled for miles around.


    Aegon stood in the ruins of the pavilion, dumbfounded, his jaw hanging loose. Within the Free Cities, tens of thousands of ves surged forward, all shouting the same thing: ��Blood and fire!��


    "Roar!!"


    Cannibal roared wildly, and the wings of death enveloped the Free Cities, dispersing filth and resentment.


    Rhaegar stood with his head held high, his eyes closed, and his mind lost in the chant. The Targaryen rule wouldst forever.


    ��Rhaegar.��


    Rhaegar''s head tilted slightly as he heard the soft call. Rhaenyra, her long, silvery-gold hair stained with blood, walked silently to his side and whispered, ��Well done.��


    Rhaegar''s nostrils red, and he smelled the rich, bloody scent. He opened his eyes and saw two beautiful faces. Rhaenyra''s eyes were like waves, and her eyebrows were full of pride. Her hands hung down naturally, holding a woman''s head covered in terror.


    ��Do you like it?��


    Rhaenyra smiled and tilted her head to the side: ��Come with me and look at it slowly on the bedside table.��


    Rhaegar was momentarily dazed, and then immediatelyughed.

 Chapter 547: Valyrian Steel Sword – Scarlet Forger

    Chapter 547: Valyrian Steel Sword �C Scarlet Forger


    The next morning arrived early.


    Swish!


    The Unsullied legion of 5,000 marched out of Astapor, kicking up clouds of dust as they went. Behind them, the city smoldered with a few wisps of smoke drifting in the air.


    "One, two, three..."


    Thousands of ves broke free from their shackles and worked together to bring down the huge bronze statue of the Harpy on the city wall.


    Crashing��


    The statue of the Harpy copsed, its bronze pieces shattering into the sky.


    ��Roar!��


    The ck dragon roared past amidst the ves'' joyous shouts of celebration.


    Rhaegar looked down, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. Thousands of Good Masters, along with their blood rtives, had been hanged on the execution tform. They had sold ves and enjoyed immense wealth, only to face the ves'' vengeful bacsh when the city fell.


    ��Astapor is a thing of the past,�� Rhaegar whispered.


    The Good Masters were all dead, and the ves had been liberated. When the war ended, they would take the craftsmen, schrs, and other talents with them, leaving behind a ruined and decaying Free City. He wouldn��t rule here. ver''s Bay was beyond the jurisdiction of the Iron Throne. For this reason, ver''s Bay would be erased from history.


    ��Roar!��


    ��Roar...��


    Syrax and Sunfyre flew out one after the other, escorting the Second Sons and the naval fleet. The three Free Cities of ver''s Bay were evenly spaced in a line from south to north. With Astapor fallen, the army headed north to join Daemon at Yunkai.


    Rhaegar nced at a ne, then took out a colorless ss bottle of potion. It was warm to the touch, like a bottle of transparent mucus. He sniffed lightly, and his blood boiled involuntarily.


    ��A dangerous scent.��


    Rhaegar��s eyes shed, and he said cautiously, ��Another wizard��s work.��


    The potion was found on the Good Masters, exuding a strange familiarity. ver''s Bay was really going all out to take on the Iron Throne.


    ...


    Yunkai


    The city walls crumbled as fire spread unchecked.


    ��Run! The dragon ising!��


    ��How dare you! No one is allowed to flee!��


    Chaos reigned. Thick ck smoke billowed into the sky, and ve soldiers scattered, fleeing for their lives.


    ��Roar...�� The scarlet dragon��s shadow pierced the smoke, apanied by a shrill, sonic-like roar, as its massive body crashed down.


    ��Attack, Caraxes!�� Daemon��s voice was cold and indifferent, like a god looking down on the scurrying ants below.


    ��Dragon! Run!��


    ��No, no, no...��


    Caraxes�� pupils shed with cruelty. Its snake-like body slithered over the ruins, spewing out scarlet Dragonfire freely.


    ��Shoot! Shoot!��


    The mercenaries in the city, emboldened by desperation, hid behind buildings and shot arrows.


    Crackling...


    Thousands of arrows rained down. Daemon tilted his head slightly, calmly facing the tide of sharp arrows.


    Bang!


    Caraxes, in sync with Daemon��s thoughts, opened its scarlet dragon wings, shielding its rider. The arrows nged against the membrane harmlessly.


    ��Leave no one alive, Caraxes!�� Daemon smiled, his eyes full of unruliness. How dare a ve Free City resist a Dragon!


    Whoo-hoo-hoo!


    A mournful horn sounded, marking the siege battle��s peak intensity. The army, bearing the gs of the three red dragons and the blue seahorses, rushed into the inner city, ying any ve soldiers who dared to stand in their way.


    ��Retreat!��


    Realizing their arrows were useless against the dragon, the mercenaries'' eyes filled with bloodshot desperation. They dropped their bows and fled in panic.


    ��...��


    The battle raged for several days.


    In the end, Yunkaiy in ruins, and the Blood Wyrm, Caraxes, slept soundly on the ashes.


    ...


    The sky was clear, and the sun shone brightly over Yunkai��s Glory Square.


    ��Roar...��


    Caraxes, with narrowed eyes, crouched atop a pile of corpses and let out a piercing roar.


    tter...


    Thousands of Wise Masters fell to their knees, their eyes zed over as if struck in the spine.


    ��You once enved people and deprived them of their freedom.��


    Daemon, seated on the dragon''s back, listed their crimes with a calm expression. His ck steel armor bore scars, and his long silver-blonde hair hung messily over his shoulders. It was clear he had been through a bloody battle.


    At the sound of his voice, the Wise Masters buried their heads even lower, some even sobbing in fear.


    Among the three Free Cities in ver''s Bay, Yunkai was the weakest. Meereen was thergest, with extensive trade and a poptionrger than the other twobined. Astapor was famous for its Unsullied legions, with a history of 3,000 Unsullied repelling an attack by over 50,000 Dothraki, even beheading the Khal of the Dothraki cavalry. Yunkai, in contrast, relied on ve soldiers and mercenaries, making it unimpressive on paper.


    For half a month, it faced high-intensity attacks from the scarlet dragon. Unable to withstand the pressure, the city finally burned to the ground.


    Daemon ced his hands on the dragon''s saddle and said calmly, ��I am a merciful man and can forgive the sins you havemitted.��


    Suddenly, the Wise Masters'' eyes lit up, fearing they had misheard.


    Daemon''s face remained expressionless, but his voice took on a seductive tone: ��Whoever wants to live, pay with your money. Everyone needs to contribute a part.��


    Crack...


    A soldier with the three red dragon emblems on his breastte brought a box.


    ��Put your money in there.��


    Daemon''s lips curled up.


    The Wise Masters looked at each other, not expecting to have to pay to save their lives. But in the face of death thousands of gold coins meant little.


    They hurriedly took out their money and paid the price of their lives. The cost was steep, and many of the Wise Masters emptied their pockets, yet still didn''t have enough.


    Daemon sighed lightly, feigning understanding. ��If you don''t have enough money, you can use your ves as coteral.�� He added that craftsmen, healers, and schrs were valued higher, while bed ves,borers, the elderly, the infirm, and children were cheaper.


    The Wise Masters, desperate and without time to think, handed over all the ves they owned. Daemon profited immensely without lifting a finger. Gathering wealth and absorbing skilled individuals were the true benefits of war. Tyrosh,gging behind, needed both the money and talent.


    Once stripped of these resources, Yunkai would quickly decline and no longer pose a threat. After a prolonged exchange, the best ves were almost all taken. In the end, more than 60% of the Wise Masters paid the head tax and retreated to the pyramid with their remaining ves.


    Daemon nced at the few hundred Wise Masters who failed to buy their lives. Without mercy, hemanded, ��Dracarys, Caraxes!��


    Roar!


    The Wise Masters had no time to escape. The Blood Wyrm pounced on them, raining down scarlet Dragonfire.


    ��No! I curse you!��


    ��It''s hot, it''s burning...��


    The Wise Masters wailed in agony. Those who tried to flee were killed by the surrounding soldiers, while the rest perished in the Dragonfire. Daemon, with calm eyes, looked at a silver-haired, dark-skinned sailor and ordered, ��Use House Vryon''s ship to send this money and ves back to Tyrosh.��


    Addam frowned and said nervously, ��Prince, this is a time of war...��


    The fleet could not be withdrawn for private use during wartime.


    ��Don''t make me repeat myself, bastard!�� Daemon''s tone was sharp and warning. ��Send the goods back, or I will send a message to the Sea Snake to get up from his bed ande to ver''s Bay.��


    He then shook his blood-stained cloak. Caraxes, nibbling on a charred corpse, slowly left with the rider.


    Addam''s eyes were dull as he ordered hispanions to follow Daemon''s instructions. As he turned, he nced at the back of the scarlet dragon, concealing a hint of envy.


    The remaining ves of Yunkai were in tears, worried about how they would survive the days ahead.


    ...


    On the other side, in the Dothraki Great Grass Sea, the sun hung high in the sky, and a light breeze dispersed the lingering stench of horse manure. The vast grasnds stretched endlessly, like a thick green nket. Horses walked on it, blending seamlessly into the blue sky and verdant expanse.


    ��Whoa, whoa, whoa!��


    A Dothraki tribe moved across the grass, leaving a winding, muddy trail in their wake. This nomadic tribe of over 10,000 people looked pale and hungry, clearly not in a prosperous state. At the head of the group rode their stern-looking Khal, Rao Khal, a man with a waist-length braid adorned with bells.


    ��Khal, the wagon wheels have sunk into the mud again.�� A scar-faced Bloodrider rode up, impatience evident in his tone.


    Rao Khal nced back, observing the tribal warriors dismounting to push the cart. He said in a low voice, ��The Mother of Mountains is right in front of us. I will ask the priestess to divine the weather.��


    The Great Grass Sea, a vast and fertile region in central Essos, had a warm climate but often unpredictable rainy seasons.


    The scar-faced Bloodrider scowled and gruffly responded, ��We should have gone straight to ver''s Bay. Going to Qohor was a waste of time.�� Theck of sheep viges along the way meant they couldn''t gather enough supplies, leaving many in the tribe starving.


    Rao Khal ''s expression remained stoic as his hand moved towards the curved knife at his waist, his gaze deadly.


    The Bloodrider continued toin but fell silent under the Khal''s threatening stare. In Dothraki tradition, the authority of the Khal was invible. Offending him left only one option: a fight to the death.


    ��Push the cart out of the mud and find a ce with water to rest.�� Rao Khalmanded in a low voice.


    ��Yes, Khal.�� The scar-faced Bloodrider dared not disobey and retreated reluctantly to carry out the order.


    ...


    Before long, it was noon. The Dothraki tribe found a water source and dismounted from their horses, their spirits lifting.


    Hoo- A shadow swept over the stream, carrying the stench of sheep offal away. Rao Khal suddenly looked up, his pupils constricting.


    ��Roar!��


    A huge dragon with a hideous appearance and muddy scales flew overhead.


    ��Dragon!�� Rao Khal stammered.


    A silver-haired figure on the back of the dragon tilted its head. Rao Khal''s sharp eyesight caught the glint of silver hair reflecting the sunlight.


    ��Go away, Sheepstealer.��


    Aemond looked down and gave a small smile.


    ��Roar!��


    Sheepstealer, drawn to the scent of sheep, hesitated to leave.


    ��Hmm?�� Aemond''s single eye narrowed.


    After a moment, Sheepstealer reluctantly obeyed and flew away. Aemond snorted, casting a final, covetous nce at the Dothraki horde.


    Swish! With a flick of his wrist, a one-handed sword was unsheathed. The de was slender, covered in the rippling patterns unique to Valyrian steel, and featured a long, narrow blood groove down the center. The hilt, a full foot long, resembled a dragon''s tail, adorned with ck scales and feathers that seemed almost alive. The de was shaped like a ferocious dragon''s head, modeled after the withered head of Sheepstealer. The entire sword symbolized a dragon snatching food from its mouth.


    Celine huddled in his arms, looking very pale, especially when she saw the sword.


    Aemond paid no attention to her, instead examining the sword carefully with his one eye, muttering to himself, ��The craftsmen of Qohor are truly worthy of their reputation.��


    The Crab w of House Celtigar had vanished, reced by a Valyrian steel sword from House Targaryen - Scarlet Forger.

 Chapter 548: The Surrender of Meereen

    Chapter 548: The Surrender of Meereen


    Time flies. Half a monthter.


    ver''s Bay, on the banks of the Skahazadhan River, where the three Free Cities of the ve trade are located.


    Roar!


    Outside the towering multicolored city walls, a ck dragon slowly soars, its mncholy green pupils surveying the entire city. The garrison on the city walls is on high alert, with scorpion crossbows ready to strike at any moment.


    Hoo��


    After a while, the ck dragon lost interest and disappeared above the clouds.


    ...


    On the other side of the river, arge vige encircled the city. Five thousand Unsullied upied the area, driving the farmers into concentration camps and cutting down trees to build their camps. Two dragons, one red and one gold, circled the sky, sniffing the scent of ash before quickly avoiding it.


    Boom!


    Cannibal plunged down through the clouds andnded quickly and steadily.


    "Roar?" Syraxy in the flowers, like an oversized curious baby, rolling to get some distance.


    Rhaegar smiled and dismounted from the dragon''s back. The natural environment was beautiful, with mountains, rivers, and herbs growing everywhere. Meereen was only fifty miles from Yunkai, and the army would be there the next day. Along the way, viges of all sizes had already been adorned with the banners of three red dragons.


    Back at the camp.


    "How is the defense of Meereen?" Rhaenyra immediately got up and went over to remove Rhaegar''s ck robe.


    Rhaegar shook his head. "It''s very well fortified. It''ll take a lot of effort."


    "Meereen is thergest city in ver''s Bay. The city walls are at least 100 feet high, and there are bronze statues of Harpies at every corner that can spit boiling oil," Sea Snake Corlys spoke in a low voice, sitting at the round table and looking at the sand table. After two months of recuperation, his injuries had healed. He went to the battlefield as soon as possible.


    Rhaegar responded with respect, whispering, "These are not the real problems. The key is to ensure that the bastards Dragonlords and Great Masters do not escape."


    "Just burn it all down," Aegon said, ying with a wine cup in ackluster manner. "War is so boring. I already miss the salty sea breeze of the Stepstones and the Lysian beauties in the brothels."


    "Think carefully before you speak," Rhaegar nced at him and gave a lukewarm warning.


    Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and took the ck robe back to her seat.


    The Sea Snake analyzed the situation carefully. "Meereen is in a difficult position. There is no choice but to go to sea." He took a dragon sculpture off the sand table and ced it in the northern wastnd of the Great Pyramid. Meereen is located on the banks of the Skahazadhan River, with a rocky beach to the north, and the estuary and mountains to the east and west are blocked.


    Daemon leaned back in his chair and smiled faintly, denying, "Who knows if there are secret passages in the city? Those scum understand the truth of the saying: Don''t put all your eggs in one basket.''"


    Astapor and Yunkai had fallen one after the other, and the forces of the Iron Throne had converged.


    The Sea Snake nced at him and retorted, "Where can a lost dog escape to?"


    Daemon straightened his posture, and his eyes suddenly became sharp.


    Dongdong!


    Rhaegar knocked on the table, interrupting the brewing tension. ��Okay, let''s get to the point.�� He nced between Corlys and Daemon, sensing the undercurrent of resentment. It was bing unbearable.


    Rhaenyra smirked, hiding her amusement with a drink. Unlike Daemon, she and Rhaegar had no issues with inws, and couldn''t fully grasp the challenges their uncle faced.


    ��Brother, you must be thirsty.�� Sensing the need to lighten the mood, Daeron hurried forward to pour Rhaegar a drink. Rhaegar smiled and epted it gratefully.


    Five dragon riders from the same family gathered in a small tent, strategizing the attack on Meereen, a city now defending itself in istion. Daeron poured the wine and stood obediently behind his brother, while Aegon looked on enviously, raising his own cup to his lips. Daeron pretended not to notice.


    ��Haha,�� Rhaenyraughed, wiping Rhaegar''s mouth with her handkerchief. Rhaegar enjoyed the moment, catching the faint scent of milk and ncing back to see her smiling eyes.


    ��Your Grace, Meereen is not a monolithic city,�� Corlys interrupted, producing an envelope sealed with beeswax from his sleeve. The wax bore the Harpy symbol of Meereen.


    Rhaegar frowned, took the envelope, and opened it. Inside was a thin sheet of paper, written in High Valyrian. ��Showing off with words,�� he muttered, sneering.


    High Valyrian was typically concise, but this letter was ornate, full of pretentious flourishes mixed with a few useful sentences. It was clear the writer was either uneducated or very arrogant.


    Rhaegar read through it and noticed the signature: ��Sizir Loraq.�� He passed the letter to Rhaenyra, who eximed, ��House Loraq, one of the oldest ve-owning families in Meereen.��


    ��Yes, representatives of the peace faction,�� Rhaegar noted. ��They want to negotiate peace and are willing to offer the bastard Dragonlord.��


    ��Quite a good idea,�� Rhaenyra smiled, soon, everyone read the letter


    Rhaegar pondered, ��ve owners cannot be trusted. They are too insincere.��


    ��Not necessarily,�� Daemon argued. ��Meereen is rich. They don''t want to follow in the footsteps of Astapor and Yunkai, do they?��


    The passage of the army was like the passage of locusts through the two ve Free Cities. The Good Masters of Astapor were all executed, and half of the ves were relocated to the Disputed Lands. The Wise Masters of Yunkai survived, but the ves were almostpletely wiped out. Rhaegar issued a decree to close the sea, making it impossible to restart the ve trade. All that awaited the two Free Cities was a steady decline.


    Before Rhaegar could respond, the Sea Snake mocked, ��If they really wanted peace, they should have opened the gates.��


    ��What do you think would happen if they opened the gates to Astapor?�� Daemon gave a knowing nce at his nephew.


    Rhaegar let out a ��tsk�� and leaned back in his chair. War is all about deception. The nightmares that had tormented him since childhood had taught him that only a ruthless attack could achieve the desired effect.


    ��Don''t be angry.�� Rhaenyra patted his head, as ifforting a child. Rhaegar rolled his eyes and turned away in silence. After the baptism of blood and fire, Rhaenyra seemed a little overexcited. The siblings seemed to have returned to their childhood.


    The Sea Snake ignored the king and queen''s intimate behavior and spoke out against Daemon: ��Compared to your victory in Yunkai, Astapor has been better at winning the hearts of the people.��


    Daemon was too ruthless. In Yunkai, he burned and looted, torturing everyone equally, regardless of their status. Both ve owners and ves alike cursed his cruelty. In contrast, the reputation of the Iron Throne in Astapor was beyondpare. Your Grace the Dragon killed all the ve owners, liberated the suffering ves, and provided jobs andnd for those without work. Although they had to move to the Disputed Lands, at least they were alive and free. Without the ve owners, the liberated ves achieved ss revenge. They were grateful to Rhaegar and recognized only him.


    Daemon didn''t like what he heard and impatiently said, ��If they don''t ept the peace offer, then let''s just ride the dragons and burn Meereen to the ground.��


    The Sea Snake snorted and continued, ��Dragons can solve 70% of the problems, but 30% require the expenditure of troops.�� As a qualified Lord, if you can avoid sacrificing your soldiers, you should naturally try to preserve them. Taking a city without a single soldier is proof that a military strategist has talent.


    Rhaegar rested his hand on his forehead, watching the two allies argue. For a moment, he realized why his father had been so keen to keep the peace when he was in power.


    ��Enough! We won''t get anywhere arguing until the sun goes down.�� Rhaegar pped the table, interrupting the quarrel. ��House Loraq is a point of entry. Take the opportunity to contact the ve-owning families in the city and minimize the chance of fighting.��


    ��I��m in!�� Aegon immediately stood up, eager to find a girl in the vige.


    Rhaegar gave him a disapproving look and emphasized, ��The rest is secondary. First, make sure the bastard Dragonlord doesn''t escape. It would be best if the ve owners could deliver the bastard Dragonlord to us.�� The source of the war was nothing more than the unusual lineage of the Dragonlord. In any case, the entire house must be wiped out.


    ��Yes!�� Aegon��s enthusiasm was contagious, inspiring Rhaenyra and Daeron to raise their hands as well. Daemon��s eyes flickered with interest, though he merely swirled his ss indifferently, as if to say, "That''s it."


    The Sea Snake slowly rose to his feet, his tone solemn. ��ver''s Bay is within our grasp, but we must remain vignt against other forces.��


    ��Such as?�� Rhaegar asked.


    Sea Snake��s thick lips parted as he listed, ��Qohor and the Dothraki cavalry.��


    Braavos and Pentos were manageable, having been warned by Rhaegar beforehand and now only daring to engage in small-scale, covert activities. Qohor, however, was a different matter. Its remote location had allowed it to be a significant arms dealer, supplying ver''s Bay with weapons funded by various factions.


    Rhaegar pondered for a moment before recalling, ��Aemond went to Qohor, right?��


    At this, Daemon��s eyes gleamed with interest.


    Sea Snake nodded, adding, ��Prince Aemond traveled to Qohor to borrow funds from Storm''s End and recruited a mercenary army of 2,000 men.��


    He paused, puzzled. ��However, Aemond didn''t travel with the mercenaries. Instead, there were sightings of an ugly dragon in the Dothraki grasnds.��


    ��Oh, Aemond wants to conquer a Dothraki cavalry?�� Aegon��s eyes lit up, and he leapt from his seat.


    ��The Dothraki are very stubborn,�� Daeron reminded in a whisper. In the books, they were described as bloodthirsty savages, and reality reflected that.


    Rhaegar considered this and realized, ��The Dothraki are formidable. They might be hired by the ver''s Bay.��


    ��Exactly my concern,�� Sea Snake agreed, pointing to the vast Grass Sea on the sand table. He traced the mountains east of Meereen with his fingers and spected, ��ording to Dothraki tradition, they will first loot the sheepmen of Lhazar and then enter the Khyzai Pass after obtaining supplies.��


    Onnd, Dothraki cavalry were a formidable challenge, especially with the protection of scorpion crossbows.


    Rhaegar, however, was confident. ��Let theme,�� he smiled. With five dragons surrounding the city, even the resurrected Old Empire of Ghis or the Yi Ti Dynasty would have to submit.


    In contrast, Aemond��s movements across the Great Grass Sea seemed wild and unpredictable. Rhaegar suggested, ��Let Aemond attempt it and see what he can do.��


    If Aemond seeded in assembling a Dothraki cavalry, he would indeed earn respect.


    ��That makes sense,�� Sea Snake agreed, fulfilling his role as an adviser.


    The meeting concluded quickly. Rhaegar led the way out, leaving Daemon alone in the tent. Daemon sipped his wine thoughtfully and murmured, ��Qohor, the one-eyed boy.��


    His good nephew seemed to have forged a Valyrian steel sword, but Daemon himself was in need of a suitable weapon. And there was also the matter of his niece-inw, far away in Storm''s End.


    ��Ask Mysaria for an update,�� Daemon ordered, a cold light shing in his eyes.

 Chapter 549: The Secret of the Bastards Dragonlords

    Chapter 549: The Secret of the Bastards Dragonlords


    King''s Landing.


    Red Keep, the Council Chamber.


    ��Gentlemen, Lady Cassandra of Storm''s End has sent a letter requesting the royal family to replenish half of the assets that Prince Aemond took from the castle,�� Lyman announced, his friendly face scanning the room inquiringly.


    Jasper, with a sneer, spun the orb of identity and retorted disdainfully, ��You are the Master of Coin, Lyman. It��s your decision to make.��


    Lyman��s old, clouded eyes narrowed in displeasure. ��His Grace is on an expedition, and every gold dragon coin in the treasury is precious.��


    ��Then don��t give it to them. It was the Prince who took it anyway,�� Jasper scowled. ��The women of House Baratheon are unreasonable, and we shouldn''t bother with them.��


    The Small Council fell silent at these words.


    Hand of the King Lyonel, sitting at the head of the table with his brown hair turning gray at the temples, spoke decisively, ��Let��s wait until His Grace returns from his campaign before we discuss this matter further.��


    Jasper snorted, blurting out, ��His Grace is still ying war games. Otherwise, we could ask the Old King in the Red Keep.��


    The "Old King" Viserys was still residing in the Red Keep.


    Grand Maester Orwyle was the first to object, "His Grace Viserys is not well. It would be best not to disturb him."


    "Hmph," Jasper snorted again. He could not stand the Lady of House Baratheon. Lord Borros had promised one of his daughters in marriage to his son, but Cassandra had tly refused. Recently, word hade that Lord Rowan of the Reach had proposed to House Baratheon. He felt like a fool.


    Hearing Jasper''s insolent remarks, Lyonel frowned deeply and prepared to rebuke him. But before he could speak, Tormund, who had been silent, moved. He took a letter from his ck cuff and said solemnly, "Unfortunately, Lady Cassandra may not live to see His Grace''s solution."


    Lyonel took the letter with a puzzled look, and his face changed drastically as he finished reading it.


    ��Yesterday morning, Lady Cassandra died unexpectedly. The cause of death was bacon choking her throat...��


    ...


    Storm''s End


    The rain fell heavily, and lightning pierced the heavy clouds.


    Inside the chapel, two Silent Sisters attended to the body.


    The castle was damp, and a chill wind nearly blew out the candles. Maris, her eyes red from crying, stood alone at the edge of the altar, watching. The corpse was as pale as paper, and the Silent Sisters wiped it patiently, inch by inch, from cheeks to neck, from chest to toes. After a cycle, they meticulously wiped the seven orifices again. Lowering their eyes, they lifted the corpse''s long ck hair, carefully cleaning the ck blood flowing from the ear holes.


    ��Be gentle, she''s afraid of pain,�� Maris murmured, her voice light and vacant.


    Before hery Cassandra''s ashen corpse, blood oozing from her red lips.


    Tapping, tapping...


    Behind Maris, the Regent, Lady Elenda Caron, walked slowly, her expression unreadable. ��The murderer was a newly recruited maid, and she has been punished,�� she said.


    ��What a pity.�� Maris lowered her head, her sadness evident.


    Elenda nced coldly at her second daughter. ��Prepare well, and you will get what you want.�� With that, she left without a moment''s dy.


    Maris kept her head bowed, staring deeply at Cassandra''s lifeless face. ��Life is always fragile, isn''t it?��


    ...


    Across the Narrow Sea


    Meereen, the Great Pyramid.


    In the luxurious hall, a man with a ck face choked himself, convulsing wildly. The delicacies on the table crashed to the floor, breaking the warm and harmonious dinner. His forehead veins bulged, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, and his face contorted in agony.


    ��Hizdahr Loraq, your life is so fragile,�� Almos remarked, standing nearby with his scepter, watching the guest writhe in agony.


    Hizdahr''s eyes gradually lost focus, his lips turned blue, and blood spurted from his mouth. His head fell to one side as he sumbed to the poison.


    ��Someone, clean this up,�� Almos ordered, his voice tinged with disgust. ve soldiers entered to drag the dead man away, blood from his seven orifices dripping onto the floor tiles.


    Almos covered his nose and mouth, muttering, ��Stupid fool, the enemy is at the gates and you still want to make peace.�� Disgusted by the smell of blood, he walked to the end of the corridor.


    As he walked, faint music reached his ears. Almos straightened his robe and opened a gauze curtain, too thin to keep out flies. The spacious inner room was filled with the pungent aroma of incense.


    A handsome silver-haired man thrust his hips, never tiring of pounding the object of his desire. Several naked beauties of all colorsy beside him,ughing and teasing as they watched andmented.


    ��Daena,e help me,�� the silver-haired youth called to a silver-haired girl in the corner.


    The naked girl slowly climbed onto the bed and pushed the other person''srge buttocks with both hands.


    ��Ahem.�� Almos coughed to interrupt the scene.


    ��Ah!�� The silver-haired girl cried out and scrambled off the bed. She was about to cover herself with a thin, gauzy dress but was suddenly embraced by the panting silver-haired youth.


    ��Don''t be afraid, you''ve seen it before,�� the silver-haired youth said with a smug smile, looking up at Almos. ��Good sister, he is still your husband.��


    The silver-haired girl trembled, sobbing in shame. ��Oh, oh...��


    ��Shut up, you idiot!�� The silver-haired youth pushed her away and threatened, ��Don''t you dare cry. Do you want to provoke the Dragon''s Wrath?��


    ��Oh, no!�� The silver-haired girl shook her head repeatedly, quickly covering her mouth and stifling her sobs.


    Almos watched quietly, as if the crying girl were not his concubine.


    The silver-haired youth, having vented his anger, sneered, ��Almos, your concubine is better than the most depraved prostitute.��


    Several naked beauties got up, some offering massages, others pouring wine. Almos remained unfazed. He said calmly, ��As long as you give me what I want, you can y with as many bed ves as you like.��


    The silver-haired youth was taken aback by this and avoided responding directly.


    ��You all leave. I want to talk to His Grace alone,�� Almosmanded, waving his hand dismissively. The beauties left on their hands and knees. The silver-haired girl put on a veil and passed by with a trembling heart. She lifted her head slightly, revealing her beautiful, white face marred by fine, pale scales that moved like a snake''s skin from her left eye to her forehead, giving her a ghostly appearance.


    As the room cleared, the silver-haired youth, displeased, mocked, ��How was my sister? Was it tight down there?��


    Bang! The scepter smashed into his chest before he could react. The youth turned pale, hunching over in pain.


    ��Daven, I don''t want to discuss this nonsense,�� Almos said coldly, pressing the scepter against his throat. His voice was hoarse with anger. ��Tell me something useful, or go back to the countryside and herd sheep.��


    ��I��m sorry, I��m really sorry!�� Daven stammered, terrified. ��I��ll tell you whatever you want to know.��


    ��Remember what you said, you idiot.�� Almos slowly withdrew his scepter. After months of working tirelessly, all of his ten concubines were pregnant. It was well known that once they had offspring, the seed-sowing tools were no longer needed. If it weren''t for the deformed female dragon still waiting to conceive, the siblings would have been killed long ago.


    Daven breathed heavily, as if just released from a prison. Almos urged, ��Speak!��


    Daven, stunned, didn''t know where to start. Seeing the danger in Almos��s eyes, he made up his mind. ��I have a dragon-taming spell, passed down in my family!��


    Almos narrowed his eyes, listening intently to the so-called dragon-taming spell.


    ��Fly,nd���� Daven��s mouth opened, spilling the key words in the binding spell.


    Almos remained calm on the surface but thought, ''It��s a real dragonlord, passing down knowledge not known to the world.''


    ��Not enough, continue!�� Without giving Daven a chance to stop, Almos ruthlessly squeezed out all the knowledge he could.


    Daven looked miserable and said in a panic, ��The only useful knowledge I have is this. The rest is all unfounded legend.��


    ��Speak!�� Almos demanded relentlessly.


    Daven looked around nervously and whispered, ��My great-grandfather''s grandfather said that the Lands of the Long Summer have a lot of fertile soil, and that it is in the hands of the strongest Dragonlord family.��


    On the eve of the Doom, his ancestor was one of the many bastards of the Aethyrys family. In ancient Valyria, polygamy was permitted, and Dragonlord houses like the Aethyrys, which adopted the ��child-rearing victory method,�� were very tolerant of bastards. His ancestor was lucky enough to break into the Fourteen mes and tame an unknown young wild dragon. As a result, he learned to fly andnd binding spells. The Dragonfire spell, however, was offensive and only taught to true family members.


    His ancestor moved to what was then known as ver''s Bay to escape his status as a bastard and to take on the Aethyrys name. There was a property of the Aethyrys family, and the bastard had the right to apply for management. If he managed to run the business well, he would have the opportunity to return to the family. Frankly speaking, it was a tacit agreement. After all, as a dragon rider, it was only a matter of time before he received the surname.


    Unfortunately, man''s ns are not as good as God''s. Not long after his ancestors had migrated, the Fourteen mes suddenly erupted, and ancient Valyria was reduced to ashes. ver''s Bay erupted into a riot,unching a pincer attack on the remnants of the Dragonlord''s house. His ancestor survived by relying on a dragon.


    Unfortunately, the dragon was too young to withstand the powerful arrows of the crossbowmen. His bastard bloodline was reduced to ordinary Valyrian descent. However, many secrets were passed down from mouth to mouth.


    Daven touched his nose and whispered, ��I have a map of the Lands of the Long Summer in my family, which includes all the Dragonlord houses. Anyone who enters the Lands of the Long Summer will surely be able to unearth lost treasures.��


    Almos frowned, skeptical. ��The Smoking Sea is full of dangers, and thend is already deste.��


    ��No! You don''t understand!�� Daven suddenly became agitated, speaking with conviction. ��My ancestors said that the Lands of the Long Summer are vast, and many Dragonlord houses have hidden fortresses that even the explosion of the Fourteen mes could not destroy.��


    The Fourteen mes were located in the far south of the Lands of the Long Summer. It was the most crowded ce, and there were traces of the Dragonlord families fighting each other everywhere. To ensure the continuation of the lineage, many unknown fortresses were built far away from the Fourteen mes in the north. Even in the nine major Free Cities, there were hidden ns left behind by the Dragonlords.


    No one could have imagined that the Doom would be so devastating, destroying the entire ancient Valyria in one fell swoop. The hidden ruins were thus hidden from the light of day.


    Daven pointed to his chest and swore, ��The map records the location of an ancient and noble Dragonlord city, which may very well contain a dragon horn.��

 Chapter 550: Blood Wyrm vs. Sheepstealer

    Chapter 550: Blood Wyrm vs. Sheepstealer


    The next day, the sun shone brightly over Meereen.


    Rumbling and roaring��


    Arge army of tens of thousands approached the city gates, smoke and dust billowing like thunder.


    Roar!


    A dragon soared through the sky, snarling with malice.


    At the city gate, a white g slowly rose. The ve soldiers guarding the city lowered their weapons and opened the gates. A dozen Great Masters in splendid attire emerged, raising the white g in surrender.


    ��We''ve captured the fake dragonlord!�� one of the Great Masters announced, carrying a wriggling sack with a silver-haired youth inside.


    After a tense silence, the 5,000 Unsullied entered the city, recing the guards on the four-sided city wall. Several dragons slowly descended to ept the surrender of the Great Masters.


    ...


    Rhaegar dismounted from the dragon''s back, his eyes fixed on the tallest pyramid in the city.


    "Heh, they know how to be reasonable," Aegon said, removing his helmet and looking around proudly. The entirety of Meereen spread out before them like a vast maze, its streets meticulously clean, the ancient architectural style still intact.


    ��No sign of anyone?�� Daeron asked, scanning the surroundings for ves ormoners. But the city appeared deserted, resembling a ghost town.


    One of the Great Masters, bowing low, exined, ��The ves andmoners are hiding in their homes, afraid of encountering the honorable Dragonlord.��


    ��Where is Hizdahr Loraq?�� Rhaegar''s eyes were sharp as he searched for the leader of the peace faction.


    The Great Masters bowed their heads. ��Hizdahr was assassinatedst night, and we decided to surrender,�� one of them said.


    ��Your Grace, please enter the Great Pyramid to discuss the details,�� another elder added humbly, bowing with respect. The other Great Masters followed suit, creating a path on either side. Their high status starkly contrasted with their servile behavior now that the ves were locked up.


    ��Lead the way,�� Rhaegarmanded, though he couldn��t discern their true feelings. The Great Masters obediently led the way into the Great Pyramid, an imposing structure standing 800 feet high, rivaling the height of the Great Wall of the North.


    ��Your Grace, the tongue of the false Dragonlord has been cut out,�� the Sea Snake said cautiously as he approached. ��Some of these Great Masters belong to ve-owning families, but none from the House Loraq are present.�� His words hinted at underlying treachery.


    Rhaegar''s eyes flickered with suspicion. ��Keep an eye on the bastard Dragonlord, and have someone investigate privately. There��s something odd about Meereen.�� The sudden surrender after more than a month of stalemate was too convenient, especially with the Bastard Dragonlord rendered mute.


    ��Your Grace, you should still be more careful,�� the Sea Snake urged. ��Leaving the dragon outside could provoke unwanted ideas.��


    ��It��s fine,�� Rhaegar replied, shaking his head lightly. He then addressed Rhaenyra and Daemon, who were approaching. ��Aegon and I will go in. The rest of you stay outside and control the city.��


    ��Ah?�� Aegon��s face fell. Why does he always get the dangerous tasks?


    Daemon looked around, still puzzled by the situation. Rhaenyra, uneasy, said, ��I��ll go too.�� She touched the hilt of The Realm''s Delight at her waist, her eyes determined. She had practiced swordy in her spare time.


    ��No need. They wouldn��t dare to do anything,�� Rhaegar said firmly. He took the Sea Snake and a reluctant Aegon and set off with the Grey Worm-led escort into the Great Pyramid.


    ...


    The Great Pyramid


    With its 33 floors richly decorated, the Great Pyramid boasted fountain pools, statues of Harpies, and gauze curtains. The ve owners had gone to great lengths to create a paradise on earth.


    ��Your Grace, I heard that Harrenhal is thergest castle in Westeros. How does itpare to the Great Pyramid?�� one of the old Great Masters asked, introducing each opulent feature with a hint of pride.


    Rhaegar crossed his arms, silently observing the surroundings.


    Aegon scoffed, ��Harrenhal is big enough for giants and is considered one of the ten wonders of the world.�� It was a building on par with the Great Wall of the North and the Long Bridge of Vntis. Inparison, the Great Pyramid seemed unimpressive.


    The old Great Masters were momentarily speechless, struggling to maintain theirposure.


    The Sea Snake growled lowly, ��Hizdahr was assassinated. Who is in charge in the city now?��


    ��No one,�� the old Great Master replied, pointing at the others. ��Meereen has always been a fair and just ce where the council votes.��


    ��Puff!�� Aegon couldn''t hold back hisughter. The notion of fairness from a city built on very wasughable. The Great Masters'' faces darkened, as if they had been pped.


    The atmosphere shifted sharply from one of forced harmony to tension. In silence, both parties ascended to the top of the Topless Tower, where the top floor was used for governing and office work. The pce was empty except for a bronze throne in the shape of a Harpy.


    Rhaegar stepped up the stairs, looking down at the Great Masters. ��Tell me, where is the real Aethyrys?�� he demanded, his voice calm butmanding. He then sat down on the bronze throne, awaiting their response.


    ...


    ver''s Bay, Khyzai Pass


    ��Roar!�� An ugly mud dragon whizzed past, heading for Meereen on the banks of the Skahazadhan.


    ��Hyah, Hyah, whoo~...�� Over ten thousand Dothraki cavalrymen charged through the mountain pass, brandishing curved swords and screaming. The cavalry moved at tremendous speed, with ropes tied to the rear of the column, dragging thousands of ragged ves behind them. These ves, with their dark skin, short stature, and t faces, were typical Lhazareen Lamb Men.


    ��Faster, Sheepstealer!�� Aemond''s one eye glowed with excitement as heshed his whip at the dragon''s uneven back. The Sheepstealer let out a strange cry and elerated, diving downward.


    ...


    On the other side, 5,000 Unsullied troops were controlling the city''s defenses and searching for suspicious individuals within Meereen.


    At the arena, the tter of chains echoed as hundreds of ves emerged from the dungeon, their shackles removed.


    ��Tell me, where is the ve owner''s army hiding?�� Daemon, astride Caraxes, demanded from above. He was certain something was amiss in the city. Some bloodshed would be inevitable if he were to conquer Meereen.


    ��Roar!�� Suddenly, a piercing dragon roar echoed through the sky, and golden Dragonfire erupted. Within the city, several charred corpses were reduced to ashes. Sunfyre''s pupils narrowed in anger as he spat Dragonfire at nearby buildings, his fury consuming everything in its path.


    ...


    Meereen, surrounded by four imposing walls.


    The Unsullied army had taken control of the city''s defenses, removing the Harpy g, the symbol of the ve masters. Suddenly, the thunderous sound of a thousand horses galloping filled the air.


    ��Hyah...�� The Dothraki cavalry charged in, brandishing their curved swords and shouting in protest.


    ��Dragonfire, Sheepstealer!�� Aemond''s lips curled into a smile as he gave the order without hesitation.


    Roar! Sheepstealer obeyed, unleashing a torrent of Dragonfire on the bronze statue of the Harpy atop the city wall. The city quickly filled with smoke. Meanwhile, Sunfyre rampaged through Meereen, burning buildings in a fiery rage.


    ��Aegon is here?�� Aemond was surprised, suspicion shing in his single eye. He had heard that Meereen had hired Dothraki cavalry to defend against the army of the Iron Throne. For over a month, he had pursued the dragons to the Dothraki''s Mother of Mountains, burning buildings and driving the Dothraki away before recruiting some of the horsemen for his own use.


    But now, with Aegon and Sunfyre in Meereen, it seemed the army likely already took the city.


    ��Ah, you fool!�� Aemond eximed, punching the dragon saddle in frustration.


    In the city, a long, snake-like scarlet dragon soared into the air, its gaze fixed on the intruders.


    At the same time, ��Hyah...�� The Dothraki cavalry, seeing the wide-open city gates, rushed in.


    ��No! Stop!�� Aemond shouted in horror, trying to halt them.


    ��<em>Ang��t��s </em>(Attack), Caraxes!�� A cold voicemanded.


    In the next moment, the scarlet dragon took to the sky, spewing a raging me.

 Chapter 551: The Golden Dragon Weeping Blood

    Chapter 551: The Golden Dragon Weeping Blood


    The scarlet Dragonfire fell like a waterfall, sshing down on them. Sheepstealer''s pupils constricted, sensing the imminent threat. Instinctively, without needing Aemond''smand, it reacted.


    Pop!


    The withered dragon''s head smashed into the Dragonfire, and its scrawny body shot straight up into the air. ��Quickly, get out of the way, Sheepstealer!�� Aemond''smand came toote. They were already hit by the Dragonfire.


    ��Roar!��


    Sheepstealer quickly ascended, itsrge brown wings pping furiously to disperse the searing heat. ��You fool! What are you doing?�� Aemond shouted in frustration, his face covered in dust. Targaryens were more resistant to heat than the average person, but they were usually not immune to Dragonfire.


    Sheepstealer turned and roared, signaling its rider to shut up and keep a wary eye on the Blood Wyrm. Caraxes''s pupils narrowed as it circled above the city, wings spread wide.


    ��Go after it, Caraxes!�� Daemonmanded, a bloody smile on his face as he stared at his one-eyed nephew. The feud between uncle and nephew was far from over.


    ��Roar����


    Caraxes whinnied in excitement, eager to engage. To it, Sheepstealer was just a worthless mud dragon, gnawing on its patience.Roar!


    Sheepstealer, horrified, swiped its rough tail and plunged headlong into the clouds. Below, in Meereen, the Unsullied guarded the city walls while the Dothraki cavalry charged recklessly. All eyes turned upward, watching the two dragons chase each other with different expressions.


    ��By the horse gods!�� Rao Khal''s face was nk, and his white stallion trembled slightly beneath him.


    ��Roar����


    The scarlet dragon wound its way upward, Dragonfire painting the sky. From below, the Blood Wyrm looked as big as a mountain, a cruel, bloodthirsty creature. The ugly mud dragon, evenrger with pitted and pockmarked scales, fled like a coward.


    ��Roar!�� Sheepstealer turned its head and spat out a dense cloud of mud-like Dragonfire. Aemond, swaying back and forth in the saddle, forced himself to calm down. ��Listen to mymand, Sheepstealer,�� he said sternly.


    It didn''t matter that they had wandered into the city. Daemon''s daring to act on his own was the real issue. Aemond leaned down to look below and said coldly, ��In that case, let''s see who will win.�� Sheepstealer surged upward with all its might, suppressing its wild instincts to treat the Blood Wyrm as a rival.


    ��Turn your head, Sheepstealer,�� Aemondmanded coldly, unsheathing the buckle at his waist and fastening it.


    ��Roar����


    Suddenly, the clouds churned and a burst of scarlet Dragonfire erupted. Caraxes, with a gust of wind, bathed in mes, lunged at Sheepstealer.


    ��Dracarys, Sheepstealer!�� At thest moment, Aemond smiled and gave the order.


    Boom!


    Sheepstealer turned around, unleashing a torrent of brownish-red Dragonfire, transforming it into a fiery rain. ��Roar���� Caraxes, with nowhere to hide, endured the onught, its scales resisting the white smoke.


    ...


    The Great Pyramid


    Rhaegar rested his chin in his hand, speaking lightly, ��If I can''t see the Bastard Dragonlord, Meereen will never have a day of peace.�� It was an insult to intelligence to produce a Valyrian imposter. After he finished, silence filled the room.


    The Great Masters exchanged nces, guilt evident in their eyes.


    Crack...


    The old Great Master pped his hands, signaling a servant to bring a tray, making a clear decision. ��Your Grace, this matter is open to discussion.�� A jug of summer red wine and two amber goblets were presented. Rhaegar frowned slightly as the old man poured the wine himself, savoring the scent.


    What is this?


    The old Great Master took two goblets and walked up the steps, smiling kindly. ��Your Grace, I would like to toast you and thank you for not burning Meereen with your dragons.��


    ��I want that fake dragonlord,�� Rhaegar responded coldly.


    The old Great Master bent down and whispered, ��If you ept my respect, you will get what you want.��


    ��Is that a threat?�� Rhaegar asked, unimpressed, eyeing the wine with interest.


    Poison? It''s so obvious!


    The other Great Masters watched, their bodies shaking like leaves. The old Great Master took a deep breath and said firmly, ��The people of Meereen never refuse a good drink.��


    Rhaegar sat up straight and smiled. ��You drink first.��


    ��No problem.�� The old Great Master agreed, picking up a goblet and downing it in one gulp. He wiped his mustache, urging, ��This is a 30-year-old Summer Red, a rare and excellent wine.��


    Rhaegar''s eyes darkened, impressed by the old man''s courage to drink poisoned wine. A hint of sadness shed in the old Great Master''s eyes as he handed the second goblet to Rhaegar. ��Your Grace, the fake dragonlord is in the Great Pyramid.��


    ��I hope so,�� Rhaegar said, showing no emotion as he took the goblet. He called up the system panel.


    Rhaegar Targaryen


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold)


    Bloodline: Dragonborn (59%)


    Runes: Bronze (Green), Serpent (Blue)


    Blood Sorcery: Binding Spell (Blue), Reflections of the Moon...


    Relics: Blood and Fire, Dreamscape, Pure Water...


    Comment: ��Ancient lineage, great or crazy?��


    Rhaegar chuckled slightly, ncing at the ��Pure Water�� relic, which blocked toxins and purified impurities. Since obtaining its blessing, poisons and diseases were no longer weaknesses. If there were a god in the world, he was the only true god.


    ��You''re very brave, old man,�� Rhaegar rarely praised his opponents, raising the goblet to his lips.


    The old Great Master ignored the murmurs, staring straight ahead.


    ��Your Grace, don''t drink!��


    ��Rhaegar, you can''t drink!�� Sea Snake and Aegon shouted, thinking Rhaegar had been bewitched.


    ��Gulp~��


    The wine went down his throat, leaving his lips red.


    ng!


    Rhaegar casually dropped the wine cup and said sternly, ��Tell me, where is the fake dragonlord?��


    "You, you..." The old Great Master''s face flushed with excitement, no longer hiding his anger. "Daven Aethyrys is in the attic. If you''re still alive, go find him."


    ��Hmph, poof!�� As soon as the words left his mouth, the blood vessels in his neck and face turned ck, and a mouthful of blood spurted out. The poison was fast-acting.


    Rhaegar smiled, stood up, patted the man on the shoulder, and said calmly, ��I am a true dragon, with blood and fire flowing through my veins.��


    ��Ho~...�� The old Great Master didn''t understand, staring at him intently, expecting to see the horrible effects of the poison. Unfortunately for him, his life, like the poisoned wine, ended in tragedy.


    Rhaegar''s face remained calm, his purple eyes glowing with starlight. The blood in his body flowed faster, as if an ugly dragon was moving within, suppressed by the drumming of his heart. One second, two seconds... Gradually, the foreign matter in his blood was purified, turning into a nutrient that strengthened his body.


    Plop!


    The old Great Master could no longer hold on. Before he could witness the heroic Dragonlord dragged to his death, he fell backward in disbelief. Two streams of blood and tears rolled down the steps, his eyes wide open.


    ��Do it!��


    The muffled sound of the corpse falling was like a signal. Suddenly, there was a low growl in the hall. A young Great Master with rough skin changed his expression instantly. He pounced on the nearest Aegon, pulling out a dagger from his bosom. Aegon, still shocked by Rhaegar''s act of drinking the poisoned wine, was unaware of the danger.


    ��Long live the Harpy!�� The young Great Master shouted, grabbing Aegon by the neck and stabbing him in the stomach with the dagger.


    ��You bastard!�� The Sea Snake roared in fury. Another Great Master pounced on him, knocking him down with a powerful swing of his arm.


    ng!


    Outside the hall, the Sons of the Harpy, wearing golden masks, swarmed in. They emerged from behind tapestries, curtains, and screens, springing out in an instant.


    ��Unsullied, charge!�� Grey Worm roared, raising his spear and thrusting forward. A hundred Unsullied split into two groups, taking control of both the interior and exterior of the hall. Outside, there was no movement, indicating the enemies had already been eliminated.


    ��Aegon!?�� Rhaegar eximed.


    ��Atone to the Harpy!�� Several Sons of the Harpy pounced on him, their voices hoarse with usation.


    Swish! Swish!


    In Rhaegar''s eyes, they moved like snails. He swiftly decapitated them one by one with Truefyre. Without stopping, he broke through the siege to find Aegon.


    The Unsullied formed a protective circle around both the Sea Snake and Aegon. Aegon, in a daze, slumped in Sea Snake''s arms, touching his belly wound. Only when he put his bloody hand to his nose and sniffed did he realize he had been stabbed.


    ��Don''t worry, the wound is not fatal,�� Rhaegar said hurriedly, using the Serpent rune to burrow into the flesh of Aegon''s abdomen, not yet covered in blood.


    ��Am I going to die?�� Aegon��s eyes were vacant as hemented his fate. ��I haven''t ridden Sunfyre enough. I haven''t even married or had a child to carry on Sunfyre��s legacy.��


    But no one paid attention to hisment. The Sea Snake, looking grave, said urgently, ��This is the ve owner''s territory. We have to retreat quickly.��


    ��I will heal Aegon. You go first,�� Rhaegarmanded, remaining calm. He reached into Aegon''s belly to repair the torn intestines.


    ��Ahhh~...�� Aegon moaned involuntarily, his face twitching slightly.


    ��Take him with you and go!�� Rhaegar ordered. After repairing the internal damage, he helped carry Aegon onto the back of the Sea Snake. Gripping Truefyre, he broke out of the protective circle.


    The Sons of the Harpy were few in number but fanatical and unafraid of death. The Unsullied formed a defensive line, fighting back methodically while slowly retreating.


    Sizzling!


    With a single stroke, Rhaegar decapitated an obstruction, tore open a tapestry, and rushed into the hallway. The bastard Dragonlord must die, no matter what. He thought, Besides, I don''t believe Daemon and the others can''t handle the situation.


    ...


    Meereen, the fighting pits.


    Syrax slowly crawled, its tail tip breaking through the iron fence gate.


    ��Come on, good girl,�� Rhaenyra called, quickly climbing onto the dragon''s back under the protection of the Unsullied.


    ��Sunfyre is out of control!�� Daeron shouted as he ran up, sweat dripping down his face, smoke billowing behind him.


    ��I know, get on your dragon!�� Rhaenyra urged, fastening the saddle and taking flight.


    Above the city, Sunfyre spewed fire like a mad beast. In the distance, two dragons shed, their Dragonfire painting the sky red.


    ��It''s a mess, aplete mess!�� Daeron muttered, dazed, as he backed away, searching for Tessarion.


    ...


    Ten thousand feet in the air.


    ��<em>Ang��s</em> (Attack), Caraxes!�� Daemon''s eyes gleamed, fixed on the movements of his one-eyed nephew.


    ��Roar...�� Caraxes, fearless and bold, pped its wide wings and swooped down on the ugly mud dragon.


    ��Dracarys!�� A cold light shone in Aemond''s single eye.


    ��Roar!�� Sheepstealer spat out a burst of Dragonfire and turned to flee. The dried-up dragon''s head nced back, seeing the Blood Wyrm''s wide, open jaws and the foul, slimy slobber dripping from its teeth. Faced with an opponent unafraid of death, a direct sh would be foolish. As a wild dragon tempered by hardship, cunning was instinctual.


    ��Stupid, show some backbone!�� Aemond was eager to fight, but Sheepstealer��s evasive maneuvers nearly broke his back.


    ��Roar!�� Sheepstealer retaliated with another burst of Dragonfire before leisurely swooping down.


    At that moment, Sunfyre trampled a house, spewing Dragonfire in agitation.


    Pop! A ball of brownish-red Dragonfire fell on its head, ckening a patch of its golden scales.


    ��Roar!�� Sunfyre roared in fury, its agitation turning into mania as it pped its pale pink wings and rushed skyward. The sky and earth were divided by ayer of white clouds. Sheepstealer dodged the Blood Wyrm��s pursuit, diving into the clouds and swooping down toward the ground.


    ��Roar!�� A golden dragon suddenly burst out, its blood-red mouth biting into one of Sheepstealer''s wings.


    Crack! The dragon''s teeth bit down hard, cracking the scales.


    ��Roar!�� Sheepstealer, frightened, bit the attacker''s neck and tore off a piece of flesh.


    ��Damn it, what is that thing!�� Aemond''s body shook violently as he suddenly recognized the golden dragon. ��Sunfyre?�� He was momentarily stunned, then said anxiously, ��That stupid Aegon! He couldn''t even keep an eye on a dragon.��


    ��Roar!�� Sunfyre screamed in pain, which only stimted its bloodlust. It bit harder and pped its wings more wildly, looking as if it wanted to tear Sheepstealer apart.


    ��Get out, golden worm!�� Aemond shouted, shocked and angry. ��Attack it, Sheepstealer!��


    Roar! Without waiting for the rider''smand, Sheepstealer retaliated fiercely. The Targaryen dragons were ranked, except for a few like Vhagar and the Cannibal. Sheepstealer, a wild dragon, was second only to Silverwing in size, reaching an astonishing 70 to 80 meters. It was definitely one of the top dragons in its prime.


    In contrast, Sunfyre was only a young adult, barely over thirty meters in length. But despite the size difference, Sunfyre nevercked the courage to fight across generations.


    ��Roar!�� Sunfyre mped down on Sheepstealer''s wing, determined to teach the mud dragon a lesson.


    Boom! Sheepstealer unleashed a torrent of Dragonfire onto Sunfyre''s brilliant pink wing membrane. In a swift move, its dry, sharp ws pierced Sunfyre''s golden scales, leaving a bloody gash on its chest.


    ��Roar!�� Sunfyre let out a piercing roar and instinctively released Sheepstealer.


    Pop! Sensing an opportunity, Sheepstealer lunged and bit down on Sunfyre''s neck.


    ��One-eyed, uncle ising!�� Daemon''s yful shout echoed through the air as Caraxes plunged down from the clouds.


    Aemond''s expression tightened. ��Let it go, Sheepstealer!�� hemanded. Dragons were precious and should not be killed lightly, especially in a fight where their strengths were matched.


    ��Roar~�� Sheepstealer, sensing the urgency, released Sunfyre''s neck, turned, spat out a mouthful of Dragonfire, and retreated. It understood that a prolonged battle would exhaust its opponent more than itself.


    ��Roar!�� Sunfyre, narrowly escaping, showed no fear and attempted to pursue.


    ��Dracarys, Caraxes!�� Daemon ordered coldly, unwilling to show mercy.


    Boom! Caraxes swooped down, unleashing a scarlet Dragonfire at the wounded Sunfyre.


    ��Roar...�� Sunfyre, unable to dodge in time, was engulfed in mes and fell backward in panic. Caraxes, relentless, continued the chase, his tail swaying with lethal intent.


    Boom! The sky dragons shed, while chaos reigned on the ground. The Dothraki cavalry charged into the city, causing buildings to explode one after another. Pungent green mes rose, spreading with unstoppable momentum.


    ��Wildfire! Retreat!�� someone shouted, recognizing the wildfire. But before they could retreat, enemies rushed out from corners, cutting them down.


    The Sons of the Harpy, wearing golden masks, continued their attack on the outsiders within the city, adding to the carnage.


    ...


    ��No! Daemon, Aemond...�� Rhaenyra rode Syrax, watching the battle between the two dragons in disbelief. Caraxes was ferocious, and it pounced on the fleeing Sheepstealer, locking the two in a brutal struggle.


    ��Roar...�� Sunfyre let out a piercing scream, plummeting to the ground in a charred mess and copsing arge building. Instantly, a mushroom cloud of smoke rose.


    ��Rhaenyra, Aegon is hurt!�� The cobalt-blue Tessarion hurriedly flew over, with Daeron on the saddle calling anxiously.


    ��Where is Rhaegar?�� Rhaenyra managed to remain calm, asking urgently. The ve owners'' counterattack had already thrown the city into chaos. Only Rhaegar could stop the fighting inside.


    Daeron shook his head, distressed. ��My brother didn''te out!��


    ��What a bad timing!�� Rhaenyra sighed softly, then patted the dragon''s back. ��It��s time for you to do your part, good girl.��


    ��Roar~�� Syrax whinnied, sharing its intent, and flew into the sky. The ve owners were a lesser concern; the real test was the strength of the two full-grown dragons.


    ...


    Outside Meereen, a ck dragony by the river, breathing slowly like a coal mountain.


    ��Sniff, sniff,�� Its nostrils twitched, sensing something unusual.


    Swish! The pupils suddenly opened wide, a faint green light shing, full of cunning and cruelty.

 Chapter 552: Sleeping Beauty

    Chapter 552: Sleeping Beauty


    Tick-tock.


    The corridor was dark and deep, with a brick-and-mortar color scheme and the sound of water dripping. Rhaegar observed his surroundings, searching for the hiding ce of the Bastard Dragonlord.


    Whoosh!


    A gust of wind hit him from behind, passing close to his ear. Rhaegar''s eyes shed as he ducked to avoid the arrow, twisting his body and kicking with his leg. The crossbow bolt flew back, and a corpse fell behind him.


    ��Go!�� a hoarse voice ordered from the shadows, and the figure moved quietly.


    ��A hidden arrow can only wound someone by ident very easily.�� Rhaegar remained calm, his keen hearing gathering valuable information. The shouting and fighting in the pce had stopped, and Aegon should have moved to a safe ce. He could faintly hear the roar of a dragon, apanied by a loud explosion.


    Rhaegar hesitated slightly and wondered, ��Do the Great Masters have such means?�� These ve masters, whose nature was only plunder and bloodshed, dared to fight against dragons. They might have some tricks up their sleeves.


    As he walked, the silence around him grew deafening until the end of the corridor, where a glimmer of light appeared in the darkness.


    Crash!Rhaegar pulled down the curtains at the window, and the blinding sunlight chased away the darkness.


    ��Roar!��


    The fierce dragon roar reverberated, causing a faint tingling in his ears. Rhaegar narrowed his eyes and raised his hand to shield himself from the re. He saw two dragons speeding through the air.


    "Roar!"


    Caraxes was as domineering as ever, soaring through the sky and chasing after its target at will. Rhaegar was stunned until he saw the opponent and muttered, ��Aemond?��


    The Sheepstealer fled in all directions, never engaging in a fight with Caraxes. Even brief encounters were quickly over. This style of y perfectly illustrated the word ��despicable.��


    Boom!


    A cobalt-blue Dragonfire shed past, soaring in front of the Great Pyramid''s entrance.


    ��Kill the Great Masters! Don''t let them get away!��


    ��There��s the Sons of the Harpy!��


    Rhaegar looked up and saw the entire city in chaos, with various factions fighting each other. The four gates were sealed, and the Unsullied army began to attack. Dothraki cavalry shed with ve soldiers, and the streets were filled with corpses.


    ��These Great Masters are truly mad,�� Rhaegar muttered, his mouth twitching slightly in disbelief at the desperate fight of the Great Masters. They actually thought that poisoning and assassination would force the Targaryens to retreat.


    ��Roar!�� In midair, Sheepstealer let out a shrill cry and once again engaged in closebat with Caraxes.


    ��Daemon, what are you doing?�� Rhaegar''s eyes were full of iprehension. Aemond''s sudden appearance and the Dothraki cavalry''s entry into the city couldn''t be mere coincidences. Daemon and Aemond must be fighting over a personal grudge.


    Growing irritated, Rhaegar drew his dragon whip and stepped back. He couldn''t allow these fools to harm the House''s dragons.


    Bang! He turned to run out, but collided head-on with a soft body, causing the person to fall unconscious without a sound.


    ��Daena!?�� Before he could take a closer look, a young man with silver hair eximed.


    Rhaegar stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing. Daven''s silver hair was messy, and he was carrying a jingling silk package on his shoulder, with shackles on his hands and feet. The silver-haired girl who had just been knocked over also had bright silver hair.


    ��A descendant of Aethyrys?�� Rhaegar smiled, not expecting the other party to walk right into his trap.


    Daven froze, looking at the silver-haired man with purple eyes in front of him, and denied, ��No, the fake Dragonlord ran away a long time ago.��


    ��Oh, then who is she?�� Rhaegar kicked the unconscious girl and asked, ��She''s wearing silk and satin, which is not something an ordinary Valyrian could afford.��


    Daven panicked and tried to defend himself, ��She is my sister, the concubine of the Great Masters, and is very popr.��


    Rhaegar listened with a smile, his right hand clutching the dragon whip, his knuckles turning white. A woman from the Aethyrys house had indeed married one of the Great Masters.


    Daven backed away, begging for mercy, ��Don''t kill me. My sister has a great body. I''ll give her to you.��


    ��Not bad.�� Rhaegar''s smile did not reach his eyes, and he whispered, ��Unfortunately, you are the root of all evil.�� Raising his hand, he whipped out the dragon whip like a serpent.


    ��No!�� Daven''s face turned pale and his crotch was already wet.


    Crack! The ck whip wrapped around his neck, the pale bone piercing the flesh, and his head flew into the air.


    ��Not worth the fight.�� Rhaegar looked down on him with cold eyes. The headless corpse fell, and the silk-wrapped gold and silver tableware spilled onto the floor.


    ng!


    A heavy thud echoed through the hall as the items hit the floor. Rhaegar lifted the silk covering to reveal a gray dragon egg, so dusty its true color was obscured. It was covered in ayer of stone skin and smelled of sulfur.


    ��A fossilized dragon egg,�� Rhaegar muttered, his pupils shrinking. He detected a peculiar fishy smell and eximed, ��Someone tried to hatch it using blood magic?��


    He recalled finding a giant dragon skeleton in Sothoryos, near a destroyed evil blood magic portal in a cave. The gray dragon egg had uneven pits on its surface and had already shed some of its stone skin. ording to blood sorcery records, this was a method of baptism with blood��the blood of the dragon washing away the slumber of life.


    ��Obviously, it failed,�� Rhaegar observed, pocketing the defective gray dragon egg with a deep sense of vignce. Blood mages sacrifices harmed themselves and others, depriving living things of their vitality. The amount of knowledge required to master this blood magic was staggering.


    Suddenly, he felt a gaze on his back. Rhaegar''s senses were keen, and a chill ran down his spine.


    ��Who is it?�� he demanded, turning swiftly to see a figure in a ck robe and a blood-red mask. The man stood silently, like a dead man, watching him.


    As Rhaegar noticed him, the man cut his pale wrist with a knife. A thick stream of blood spurted out, forming a pattern of tadpoles on the floor.


    ��Great Lord of Light, hear my call...�� the ck-robed man prayed in a mumbling voice, sping his hands together. In his arms, he held a cloth bag containing two more fossilized dragon eggs.


    ��You''re a fraud!�� Rhaegar shouted in anger, swinging his dragon whip.


    At that moment, something unexpected happened. The tadpole pattern came to life, wriggling into a mock toad that hopped and leapt at him.


    Gulp~


    Rhaegar pulled the woman to block the strange toad, but it passed through the body and dove into his forehead. In a blink, Rhaegar''s dragon whipshed out, its snake-like tongue piercing the air and severing the ck-robed man''s neck.


    The severed head fell to the ground, the red mask shattering to reveal a pale, old face as dry as tree bark, blood pouring from its seven orifices. On the other side, Rhaegar felt a chill in his head, a dizziness filling his brain. His vision blurred, and he shook his head to stay awake.


    A ball of thick ck water oozed from the dead man''s mouth, emitting a strong, strange smell. ��Ghostly stuff, it''s from Asshai again...�� Rhaegar mumbled, his consciousness fading before he copsed atop the woman''s body. Thest thing he felt was the dragon whip piercing the man''s head.


    The magical material of Valyrian steel mixed with special leather seemed to ignite upon contact with the thick ck liquid, instantly spewing mes. As Rhaegar fell into a deep sleep, he faintly heard a mournful wail of resentment.


    ��Nightmare! Nightmare!�� It sounded like the name of a blood mage incantation, but Rhaegar could no longer hear it. The midday sun shone brightly, illuminating the corridor starkly. The three and a half lifeless corpsesy out of ce in the bright environment.


    The woman, who had been on the verge of being awakened, was knocked unconscious again by Rhaegar''s ruthless blow to the head.


    ��Chirp, chirp...�� Birds flew to the window, looking curiously at the scene below.


    ...


    King''s Landing, Red Keep.


    Viserysy in his bedchamber, breathing heavily as he took a long afternoon nap.


    Bang!


    A bird flew headlong into the window, shattering it. Viserys''s eyebrows twitched slightly, his breathing became irregr, but he remained asleep.


    Hum


    Suddenly, a mysterious sensation overcame him. Viserys immediately entered a vivid dream, witnessing two dragons fighting fiercely, their blood and mes coloring the sky.


    The next second, the dream shattered, turning into countless tiny grains of sand. Viserys woke abruptly, his eyes filled with mixed emotions, his lips trembling: ��Rhaegar...��


    ...


    Lys, Topless Tower.


    ��ck, green, the descendants of the dragon weave the blood of the dragon.�� Hena, with her silver hair cascading down her shoulders, slowly rocked a spinning wheel.


    Hum


    A faint sound reached her ears, like the ripples of a clear spring. Hena stopped, confusion filling her clear eyes. It was as if she had heard or seen something.


    Uncertain, Hena climbed to the center of the carpet like a child and began sewing a new tapestry. In one corner, three cities in a row were burning, several dragons baring their fangs. Skillful with her needle, she added two little figures in ck robes, chasing away an ugly toad.


    ��The maiden''s song is sung, the descendants of the dragons weave dragon dreams...�� she murmured, continuing her work.


    ...


    Far away, overseas.


    Rhaegary on the green grass, half asleep. He opened his eyes, and the sun''s rays pierced them.


    ��Hiss!�� Rhaegar gasped, feeling a splitting headache. He shook his head vigorously, as if a club had been shoved into his ear and stirred his brain.


    ��Oh~~�� A wave of dizziness surged, and he couldn''t help but dry heave.


    ��Croak.�� Rhaegar fell to his knees, a protesting toad croaking beneath him. The pain was so intense he felt he could spit out all the sour water in his stomach.


    Rhaegar identally made eye contact with a pair of dark, dead fish eyes.


    ��What the hell!?�� Rhaegar almost jumped three feet high at the sudden face-to-face encounter.


    ��Croak.�� A gray, ugly toady on the ground, calmly shaking off the vomit covering its body. Rhaegar''s eyes widened in surprise.


    ��What an ugly toad!�� It had poor coloring, skin full of pimples, and bulging green eyes.


    Suddenly, Rhaegar''s mind cleared, and he remembered the scene before he fell asleep. The bastard Dragonlord and his sister were on the run, and he caught and killed them. The ck-robed man was also fleeing, and when he saw him, he cast a curse in his rage.


    ��Damn it, where did you take me?�� Rhaegar was confused and pped his head hard. The key question suddenly slipped his mind. Looking around, he saw that the grassy field stretched as far as the eye could see, with snow-capped mountains in the distance. Rhaegar became more and more bewildered. He reached out, dug up a piece of dirt, and rubbed it. It was cool and moist, proving that the soil was notcking in moisture.


    Rhaegar waspletely baffled. Everyone knew that thend in ver''s Bay was poor. It was impossible for there to be such a pleasant and fertile area.


    Behind him, footsteps and the cool call of a maiden echoed: ��Gaemon, your father is calling you home.��


    Rhaegar turned around and saw a maiden with purple eyes and silver hair in a delicate braid.


    ��Croak.�� The toad croaked and jumped into his arms. Rhaegar was startled and quickly reached out to catch it. He looked down and suddenly realized that hisrge hands had shrunk, turning into a pair of small, white, delicate baby hands.


    ��What''s going on?�� Rhaegar froze and quickly checked his body. He was less than three feet tall, with short, thin arms that had no strength at all. He didn''t need to look in the mirror to know that his body had shrunk.


    ��Gaemon, don''t make me ask you a second time.�� The silver-haired maiden''s face was set in a frown, and her thin body was frail.


    ��Who is Gaemon?�� Rhaegar held the toad in one hand and subconsciously reached for his face. He felt a scar on his left eye, running from the top of his cheek to the bottom, but not touching his eyeball.

 Chapter 553: Dreaming of the Lands of the Long Summer

    Chapter 553: Dreaming of the Lands of the Long Summer


    Meereen.


    The city was aze, and countless ves poured out of the dungeons.


    ��Unsullied, form up!�� Grey Wormmanded, his face set with determination. He led the army in a counterattack. Five thousand Unsullied blocked the city gates, steadily closing in on all sides. Anyone who resisted was swiftly killed by their spears. For a time, the ve soldiers, the Sons of the Harpy, and the Dothraki cavalry all retreated.


    ��Brother hasn��te out yet, so we��ll suppress the resistance first,�� Daeron said, riding Tessarion to escort the Unsullied.


    Upon hearing this, Grey Worm looked towards the Great Pyramid and then at the bloody battlefield in the sky. Two dragons fought fiercely, their blood spilling and staining the air.


    ...


    ��Roar!��


    Syrax shot straight up into the sky, staring intently at the two battling giants. Rhaenyra, tense, whispered, ��Be careful, Syrax.��


    Syrax, ever clever, ascended above the clouds, resembling a stealthy predator. Not far away, the two dragons were locked in a fierce battle.��Rip it apart, Caraxes!�� Daemon''s expression was grim as the Blood Wyrm under him bit into the other dragon''s wing.


    ��Roar!�� Sheepstealer screamed in terror, its dry, taloned ws tearing at Caraxes'' scarlet scales and biting down on its neck.


    ��Well done, bite it to death!�� Aemond grew more excited, wanting to join the fray himself. The two dragons, of simr size,peted to see which could be more ruthless.


    Boom! The violent collision caused their bodies to shake. Daemon��s eyes subtly changed, and he unconsciously reached for the hilt of his sword at his waist. He nced at the two dragons, entangled and thrashing in one ce. The one-eyed Aemond sat on his dragon''s back, only a dozen meters away. Daemon��s expression shifted to calm, his right hand repeatedly tightening and loosening around his sword hilt.


    As he weighed his options, a third dragon descended from the sky.


    ��Dracarys, Syrax!�� The hidden Syrax plunged down through the clouds, aiming a mouthful of golden Dragonfire at the twobatants.


    Boom! Caraxes was hit in the neck, and with a burst of strength, shattered his opponent''s bones. Sheepstealer was in a bad way, biting Caraxes'' neck just as the Dragonfire fell from the sky.


    ��Roar!�� Sheepstealer screamed, hastily releasing Caraxes'' neck and retreating with pieces of skin torn off by its ws.


    ��Roar...�� Caraxes'' ferocity did not diminish. It shook its neck, slightly scratched, and rose into the air like a serpent.


    ��Stop it, do you hear me?�� Rhaenyra''s tone was a warning, aiming to deter both uncles and nephew.


    Daemon nced at her, abandoning the idea of drawing his sword, and his dragon slowly disappeared into the clouds. Aemond, however, did not heed the warning and rode Sheepstealer straight down, seeking cover for the next attack.


    ��Damn it, two idiot men!�� Rhaenyra clenched her teeth, secretly relieved she hadn��t been attacked by them. ��Roar!�� Syrax snorted and quickly left the battlefield.


    Rhaenyra looked down and her eyes widened in surprise. A hideous ck dragon was hiding at the foot of the towering city walls, its nostrils slightly sniffing, as if waiting for a feast. Rhaenyra''s eyes widened in horror.


    ��Roar...�� Cannibal seemed to sense something, slowly lifting its bloodshot eyes to reveal a piercing, intelligent gaze.


    ...


    At this moment, the rider of the cannibal dragon was feeling persecuted.


    ��Croak.��


    The toad''s face inted into a ball as it croaked, nestled on the silver-colored short hair. Rhaegar hung his head, allowing a bare hand to twist his ear.


    ��Gaemon, you''re not being obedient again.�� The silver-haired maiden''s voice was soft, but the force of her hand continued to increase.


    Rhaegar paid no attention, immersed in contemting the theory of reality and illusion. Is this a dream? Why does it feel so real? He touched the scar on his left eye and whispered, ��It''s not a dream. How could a dream hurt?��


    Having experienced nightmares since childhood, he could easily distinguish between a good dream and a bad one. The current environment didn''t resemble a shabby dream world. Dreams were fragile, like bubbles that burst at the slightest touch.


    ��Croak.�� The toad croaked happily and closed its dead fish eyes.


    Rhaegar ignored it and, holding his hands tightly, said, ��Daenys, I''m getting angry.��


    ��Your father will be even more angry if you sneak out,�� the maiden Daenys gently scolded him, but she eventually let go of his ear.


    Rhaegar nced at her, his heart full of helplessness. He seemed to recognize his identity and that of the maiden, and thus where he was. They were the children of the exiled Aenar Targaryen��the glorious Gaemon and Daenysthe Dreamer.


    ��Then thend beneath my feet,�� Rhaegar looked out at the distant snow-capped mountains and muttered, ��is the Lands of the Long Summer of ancient Valyria.��


    Daenys took her brother''s hand and said softly, ��Let''s go. Father will be worried.��


    ��Going home?�� Rhaegar raised his little face, inexplicably excited. Ancient Valyria! Although he didn''t know how he got here, this was undestroyed Valyria!


    ��Yes,�� Daenys replied, her voice t as she walked forward. ��It''s been a bit unsettledtely, and Father has ordered us not to go out easily.��


    ��Why?�� Rhaegar asked, curious.


    ��There is no reason,�� Daenys turned her head and walked on in silence.


    Rhaegar scratched his head, his mind seemingly absorbed in the child''s body. Pointing to the distant snow-capped peaks, he said, ��The Fourteen mes are very tall.��


    From a distance, the snow-capped peaks looked to be no less than a thousand meters high, towering enough to be nketed in snow.


    ��That''s not the Fourteen mes,�� Daenys corrected, turning to point to the misty fog far behind the snow-capped peaks. ��The dragons are hidden in the Fourteen mes, and the Fourteen mes are hidden in the clouds,�� she said seriously.


    ��But there''s nothing there,�� Rhaegar stretched his neck to look, but the fog seemed like a barrier, obscuring the horizon.


    ��If you want to see the Fourteen mes, you have to ride a dragon,�� Daenys said nonchntly, her frown deepening at the mention of dragons.


    Rhaegar turned around, about to ask where the dragons were when��


    Whoosh!


    A gust of wind swept over the mountains and the sea, and clouds billowed up in the sky.


    ��Roar!��


    A loud roar shattered the world''s silence. Rhaegar''s breath quickened, and a slight tremor ran through his soul. The fog churned, and several tiny dragon shadows intertwined violently.


    ��A dragon ising,�� Daenys said nervously, urging, ��Hurry up!�� It seemed she disliked the dragons.


    ��Roar...�� Suddenly, the fog broke, and the dragon shadows became clear. Before Rhaegar could even cry out, a dragon with scales as dark as the night and wings as red as blood burst out, terrifying in its appearance like the Stranger itself.


    "Roar!"


    The ck dragon turned and spat out a jet of ck Dragonfire, halting the pursuing dragons mid-air. The other dragons, full of resentment, spat out various colors of mes. Rhaegar briefly saw three different Dragonfires: green, dark red, and grayish-brown.


    Boom!


    A deafening explosion rocked the air as the Dragonfires collided. The ck Dragonfire was so hot and domineering that it engulfed the other Dragonfires, turning into a billowing cloud of smoke.


    ��Roar!��


    The ck dragon roared in defiance, shaking off its pursuers, and leapt over the snowy peaks to the t grasnd. Rhaegar watched in awe, his eyes fixed on the dragon.


    ��Don��t look, just go,�� Daenys urged, worried. She was running, her body weak and panting. ��The dragons have been restlesstely, Dragonborns are also being attacked.�� That was why their father had forbidden them to go out alone.


    Rhaegar stood rooted to the spot.


    Bang! Bang! Bang!


    His heart pounded, his blood racing. Rhaegar began to feel dizzy, his pale skin flushing, and his head feeling hot. Suddenly, a small line of text appeared in his mind:


    [Relic: Blood and Fire (me Resistance +100%)]


    Time seemed to slow as the ck dragon spread its wings and glided, its scales crushing the soft grass. The searing stench of burning flesh hit him.


    Rhaegar��s eyes widened as he watched the hideous dragon''s maw growrger andrger in his field of vision.


    ��Roar!��


    The ck dragonnded in front of him, its ws pounding the ground, and its neck stretched out as it roared.

 Chapter 554: The Notes of the Dragon Horn

    Chapter 554: The Notes of the Dragon Horn


    Rhaegar quickly held his breath as a torrent of searing heat washed over his body.


    ��Roar...�� The ck dragon stared at him with dted pupils, as if inspecting a tiny insect. Rhaegar''s heart pounded, his body growing hotter and hotter, as if being boiled alive.


    The ck dragon, though not massive, was young. In Rhaegar''s estimation, it was norger than Sunfyre, still on the cusp of adulthood. Yet, its impact on him was more intense than anything he had ever felt, reminiscent of his first encounter with Cannibal.


    ��Stop, Balerion!�� Daenys rolled on the grass, calling out in panic. Rhaegar''s heart skipped a beat. He had already guessed the dragon��s identity from its appearance. The confirmation came when Daenys called out the name of the ck dragon.


    ��The ck Dread, right before my eyes,�� Rhaegar thought, his brain buzzing as he gazed up in awe.


    ��Roar...�� The ck dragon turned its head sideways, staring at the human cub with a suspicious glint in its eyes. It stretched its neck, nostrils twitching as it tried to discern the scent.


    ��Balerion,�� Rhaegar asked, his heart pounding, ��are you okay?�� In his mind, Balerion had always been a legendary figure, living on through tales even after its death.


    ��Snort, snort...�� The ck dragon, proud and arrogant, raised its head in confusion and snorted heavily. Rhaegar, standing below, was hit with a foul, fishy stench. The dragon��s pupils narrowed before it turned away,zily lying down on the grass, showing no interest in dealing with the human cub.


    ��Gaemon,e with me.�� Daenys struggled to her feet and dragged her brother away without further ado. Rhaegar��s head spun, and his body steamed like a furnace.It was hot, unbearably hot. Daenys seemed oblivious to the fact that even his hand felt like a hot coal,pletely out of the ordinary. Rhaegar��s vision blurred as he realized his body was overheating. He had not felt the concept of ��heat�� for a long time.


    ��What��s going on?�� Rhaegar muttered, sensing something was wrong. He turned his head back, curious about the situation.


    The ck dragony on the ground, its dragon tongue gently licking its wings, its long, thick tail swaying back and forth. As the tail swung, it revealed a five-foot-long scratch on its belly armor, with dragon blood dripping and burning the green grass.


    ��He''s hurt,�� Rhaegar noted, his consciousness gradually bing clouded.


    ��Croak.�� A toad croaked in his ear as he slowly closed his eyes.


    ...


    ��How is he?��


    ��It��s not serious. The dragon''s blood is just overactive from the shock.��


    ��...��


    The room was empty, with murals carved into the ck Dragonstone walls. Rhaegar opened his eyes again, taking in a scene of Valyrian Lamb Men being attacked by a dragon.


    ��You��re awake.�� A voice came from beside him, and a small hand helped him sit up. Rhaegar turned his head and saw Daenys spooning some soup into a bowl. ��You��re sick. Drink some.��


    ��No...�� It was useless to refuse, and the porcin spoon was brought to his lips. Rhaegar was slightly taken aback, his body stiffening uncontrobly. Daenys continued to feed him, repeating, ��Drink, drink.�� Despite his desire to refuse, his body obediently drank the medicine.


    ��What��s going on?�� His body felt numb, and his eyes were the only part that could move. Rhaegar was confused, feeling an unusual effect on his body.


    ��Croak.�� The toad croaked in a daze, hopping to the edge of the pillow. Rhaegar was momentarily dazed, some memories in his mind triggered, and he asked cautiously, ��Did you bring me here?��


    ��Croak.�� The toad stared at him with lifeless dead fish eyes, croaking lifelessly. Its expression made one question if it had any intelligence.


    ��What are you, a puppet created by the Asshai sorcerers?�� Rhaegar red at it before asking, ��Where am I?��


    ��This is home,�� Daenys replied, tidying up the medicine bowl before silently getting up. Only then did Rhaegar realize he could move his body.


    Bang! The door closed, leaving him alone with the toad in the room.


    Rhaegar did a backflip, grabbed the toad, and demanded, ��Where am I?��


    ��Croak.�� The toad, almost squashed, still didn��t move.


    ��The seven levels of hell!�� Rhaegar pped his forehead and sighed. ��A toad, no way tomunicate.�� He knew he was in trouble.


    He got off the bed and groped his way along the Dragonstone murals. ��Huh?�� Rhaegar was slightly surprised. He didn��t feel any cool or warm touch. In fact, he couldn��t feel anything at all.


    Rhaegar��s eyes shed, and he stuck a finger in his mouth.


    Ka!


    The skin of his finger was bitten, and a trickle of blood flowed. Rhaegar blinked but felt no pain.


    ��This is not the real world,�� he realized instantly. Rhaegar rubbed his face vigorously but still felt no sensation. Heughed helplessly, ��It''s fake, it''s all fake.��


    He remembered the Asshai sorcerer who had attacked him, though he had killed the sorcerer first. Before dying, the sorcerer had cast a curse on him.


    Rhaegar tried to remember and wondered, ��Nightmare, is this a dream?�� A dream that transcends time and space, a dream that goes back to the past. This had happened once before��when Laena had a difficult birth, he had identally entered a dream that wasn��t his and witnessed his mother��s death in childbirth.


    ��But this isn��t a nightmare,�� Rhaegar said, looking at his childlike body. ��The death of the caster has an effect on the curse?��


    If he were the caster, he would have cast a spell to send people into an endless nightmare. But Rhaegar himself was not afraid of nightmares. He was used to them and had the ability to disrupt the dream.


    Unable to understand, he summoned the explorer system panel.


    Rhaegar Targaryen


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold)


    Bloodline: Dragonborn (+59%)


    Runes: Bronze (Green), Serpent (Blue)


    Blood Sorcery: Binding Spells (Blue), Reflections of the Moon...


    Relics: Blood and Fire, Dream Vision, Pure Water...


    Comment: ��You realize your situation, don��t you? Your bloodline has increased.��


    Rhaegar looked at the ��Bloodline�� column, noticing a ��+�� in front of the number. This meant his bloodline was slowly being purified, waiting for the number to jump. Rhaegar thought for a moment and remembered the situation before he fainted. He had encountered an injured Balerion, and his body had been abnormally hot.


    ��Is this a dream?�� Rhaegar pinched the tender flesh on his arm."I''ve felt it clearly before, but why have I forgotten about it?"


    It was precisely the clear five senses that made him lose himself in his dreams. After falling into aa, he had experienced a loophole.


    ��Croak.�� The toad croaked once, its green eyes empty as death. Rhaegar repeatedly looked at the culprit, and his gaze fell on the panel��s ��Relics�� section. He muttered, ��Is this the Dreamscape effect?��


    The ability to trigger the dream vision by daring to think and act.


    Hum...


    A loud buzzing sound filled his ears, as if a hammer had been smashed on his head. Rhaegar rolled his eyes and fell backward limp.


    Plop.


    He fell back onto the bed,nding at the feet of the toad.


    ��Croak.�� The toad croaked softly,pletely calm.


    ...


    ��Uh...��


    After an unknown amount of time, the dizziness returned to Rhaegar��s brain.


    ��Gaemon, don��t lie on the table,�� a voice lectured him through the noise in his ears.


    Rhaegar looked up and tried to respond, but only managed a muted cry.


    ��Ho ho...�� The sound barely passed through his vocal tract, and he suddenly came to his senses, covering his mouth with his hands. His teeth clenched his tongue, but he still felt no pain.


    Rhaegar��s heart tightened as he tried to speak again. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but they turned into another muted cry.


    ��I��m mute,�� Rhaegar realized, his eyes widening in rm.


    ��Gaemon, sit up straight.��


    Daenys, looking haggard, removed her brother��s hand from his mouth. Rhaegar didn��t resist and immediately looked around. The sky was filled with mist, obscuring a peak that reached into the clouds. The siblings were at the foot of the mountain, on barrennd covered in stones.


    Rhaegar kept a sharp eye out, turning to look around. There were people all around him, wearing clothes made of linen or wool, and with various hairstyles. But one thing was the same for all of them, young and old, men and women: they were all Valyrian, with silver hair and purple eyes. At a nce, there were at least a few hundred of them.


    A Valyrian group of this size was rare, even in Vntis. However, Rhaegar was surprised to find that he couldn��t see the faces of these people. It was as if a fog obscured their faces, and all he could see was the white skin of their necks.


    Rhaegar turned around and saw a tall man with silver hair and dark skin up close. He thought to himself, ��Could this man be a Vryon?�� Thebination of ck skin and white hair made them the only ones of this type of Valyrian descent.


    Suddenly, a solemn prayer was heard in the distance:


    "Henntoti anogar, Va syndroti v?edroma (Blood of two, Joined as one)."


    "M��ro perzot gihoti, El��droma i?rza sir (Ghostly me and song of shadows)."


    The vow was recited in High Valyrian with perfect diction. Rhaegar followed the sound and saw a man and a woman in ancient dress performing the ceremony. Both had silver hair and shawls, leaning close to each other and touching foreheads. A red-robed wizard stood on a rock, waving a scepter and reciting the words.


    ��They are members of the House of Berys and Aurion,�� Daenys whispered unemotionally, her head lowered. ��Cousins. You and I will do the same in the future.��


    Rhaegar tilted his head and saw Daenys��s cheeks clearly. She was pretty, pale, and looked frail, just as she appeared in the books.


    ��Would you like to eat something?�� Daenys'' eyes were calm and unperturbed as she took a fresh red grape from her bosom.


    Rhaegar hesitated slightly before epting the offer. When he put it in his mouth, it was neither warm nor sweet. Rhaegar was stunned and swallowed it, finding it tasteless.


    This time, he had not only lost the ability to speak but also his sense of taste and smell. His eyes wandered, and he leaned in to smell Daenys. There was no trace of the fragrance he remembered from before. Even in a crowd, he couldn''t detect any scents.


    Rhaegar lowered his head in silence, thinking, ��With all five senses gone, does the dream still exist?�� Had he escaped from a dream, or had his consciousness sunk into nothingness?


    As he pondered, Daenys lifted her eyes and suddenly said, ��Gaemon, you didn��t like sweet things before.�� Rhaegar��s heart skipped a beat, and he looked up innocently. Daenys looked away, whispering as if confiding in someone, ��I was dreaming.��


    Rhaegar��s lips moved, wanting to say that he was too. "Hen jeny mazrion, Q��lossa ozundesi (A future promised in ss, The stars stand witness.)"  "Syndroro o?o j��do, Ry kivia mazvestraksi (The vow spoken through time, Of darkness and light)," the red-robed wizard read thest words aloud.


    Dong dong dong...


    The next moment, drums sounded around them, the beats as dense as rain. Rhaegar suddenly looked back and saw the crowd dispersing in an intriguing manner.


    ��Woo-hoo-hoo...�� A melodious horn sounded, like lightning in the night, shattering all illusions and confusion. Rhaegar��s vision darkened, and his body once again lost control.


    ��Woo-woo-woo...�� The horn continued, and upon listening closely, it was aplex tone, almost like a song.


    ��Listen carefully, don��t think about it,�� Daenys said, her eyes vacant, as if she were a ghost.

 Chapter 555: Rune: Dream-Eating Toad

    Chapter 555: Rune: Dream-Eating Toad


    Rhaegar closed his eyes, immersing himself in the haunting sound of the horn. His skin gradually turned red, his forehead beaded with sweat, and his breathing became heavy and erratic.


    ��Roar!��


    ��Roar...��


    Apanied by the sound of the horn, the fog slowly stirred, and the dragons roared in the clouds.


    Whoosh!


    A gust of wind swept over his head, causing Rhaegar''s silver hair to fly about. He felt the wind but not its sting or burn. Deep down, Rhaegar knew better. A dragon flew out of the Fourteen mes, gliding past him.


    ��That horn sound, it came from the dragon''s horn,�� Rhaegar thought, wanting to open his eyes and see the Dragon Horn and the Fourteen mes.


    A gentle hand covered his eyes, and Daenys said calmly, ��The dragons are restless, and the dragon horn helps to calm them.��


    Rhaegar was taken aback, beginning to doubt Daenys'' actions. She continued, ��The House''s dragons are injured and may be banished from The Lands of the Long Summer.��Rhaegar''s ears twitched, the sounds he heard slowly blurring.


    ��The family''s ancestral property will be sold. Do you want to know where it is?�� Daenys described the location of the ancestral estate in detail, seemingly indifferent to whether those around her wanted to know.


    Rhaegar''s hearing was failing, but he still heard everything. It felt like she was telling him specifically. He had a thought: Daenys was the first clear Dreamer in the house. Could it be one dream for two people?


    ��Woo-woo-woo...�� The horn continued to y, without any dramatic ups and downs, just a fascinating low tune.


    After listing the family''s holdings, Daenys paused and hesitantly asked, ��Gaemon, are you doing well?��


    Rhaegar��s face changed slightly, his doubts crystallizing at that moment. He couldn''t speak, his eyes were covered, and his hearing was fading. In desperation, he nodded his head lightly.


    ��That''s good.�� Daenys visibly rxed, her tone a little lighter. ��Balerion is the youngest dragon in the family, and you will definitely meet again in the future.��


    Rhaegar remained silent, nodding again. In a way, he was very familiar with Balerion.


    ��Woo-woo-woo...�� The horn gradually faded, and the tune became more indistinct.


    Hum...


    Rhaegar suddenly felt a ringing in his ears, and his vision changed from light filtering through his fingers to a blurry haze. All five senses were lost, leaving only a vague consciousness. At this moment, the world seemed to be illusory. He began to panic, and a trace of fear grew in his heart. Behind the fear, however, was an uncontroble anger.


    Thump! Thump! Thump!


    Rhaegar tried to use his dream vision, but the surrounding sensations became increasingly fragmented. Gradually, his forehead began to bulge, and blood oozed from his reddened skin.


    ��Gaemon, don''t be afraid.��


    All was silent, and then Daenys'' voice suddenly rang out. Rhaegar felt a sense of relief at the sound, trying to suppress the negative emotions that had suddenly arisen.


    ��Croak.��


    A wet feeling came from his neck, apanied by the familiar sound of a toad. Rhaegar was not disgusted; instead, he was surprised to realize that his sense of touch had returned. Not only his touch but also his hearing, smell, taste, and sight were all restored.


    H��


    The blood on his body suddenly burst into mes, turning into a wisp of ck fire. Rhaegar did not open his eyes, but he felt an unprecedented sense of ease, a pleasure that came from the depths of his soul. Everything around him became clear, as if seen from a gray, third-person perspective.


    At the same time, the sky slowly cracked, the fog quickly dissipated, and the Fourteen mes and earth rose and fell. Rhaegar had been gued by nightmares since childhood and knew exactly what it meant: He was waking up!


    "You have kindled the fire,�� Daenys crouched down and looked Rhaegar in the face, which was beginning to blur as it was wrapped in ck fire. "Remember the sound of the horn. Only a Dragonborn can y it."


    Rhaegar remained silent, absorbing the knowledge Daenys imparted.


    ��Dreams are always a source of confusion.�� Daenys'' eyes were full of emotion as she cupped Rhaegar''s face and kissed his cheek. ��Goodbye, my brother.��


    ��Croak.��


    With these words, the toad leapt up and into Rhaegar''s brow.


    Pop!


    Like a dream bubble, it turned into a ck and white snowke.


    ...


    Meereen.


    The Great Pyramid, the Tapestry Gallery.


    ��Chirp, chirp...�� Birds cocked their heads, curiously eyeing the few humans lying on the ground. A headless corpse in ck robesy alone on one side, blood slowly flowing from its severed neck.


    Hum...


    Suddenly, two silver-haired bodies piled on top of each other emitted an invisible, colorless gas.


    ��Chirp, chirp~�� Startled, the birds jumped out of the window in a panic.


    H��


    The tall silver-haired youth''s forehead sprouted scales and dragon horns, with ck fire oozing from his pale skin. Rhaegar''s fingertips twitched slightly as his consciousness gradually returned. His eyes didn��t open, and he didn��t even lift his head.


    A soft touch squeezed into his arms, apanied by the smell of something burning.


    ��Sssssssss...��


    Rhaegar''s body trembled, waking with a sharp intake of breath. ��Daenys!�� he called out softly, confused, suddenly realizing there was a delicate body in his arms.


    Rhaegar immediately opened his eyes, thinking Daenys had escaped from his dream. He saw a woman with silver hair covering her face. His heavy body was pressed against her, and ck fire burned through his clothes.


    But the silver-haired woman seemed to be asleep, her skin burning red and hot but not causing any harm. Instead, her silver hair was burning vigorously.


    Rhaegar froze for a moment, then raised his hand to call back the ck mes.


    No wonder it smelled burnt.


    Plop!


    Rhaegar stood up, and the silver-haired woman immediately fell to the ground, hitting her forehead again.


    ��What��s going on outside?�� he wondered aloud, his feet unsteady, and his mind still a bit dreamy. ncing around, he noticed the ck-robed wizard��s decapitated body, with the dragon-taming whip having smashed the dried-up head.


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as he muttered, "The corpse is destroyed and the curse is broken."


    A sh of inspiration struck him, and an inexplicable force burst forth from his spirit. He slowly closed his eyes, and the world turned gray. Within a three-meter radius, everything was affected by an invisible force. Rhaegar thought of something, and the power turned into an invisible tentacle, picking up the fallen dragon whip.


    Whoosh!


    The dragon whip seemed to be summoned, flying into his hands instantly. Rhaegar was amazed and whispered, ��This is the power of the spirit.��


    ��Croak.��


    A gray toad appeared out of nowhere, croaking in his mind. Rhaegar opened his eyes in surprise and said, ��You��re here too.�� The gray world disappeared, and the real world came into view. The toad did not vanish with the gray world but instead jumped out of his head and sat on his shoulder.


    ��Croak.��


    Its hollow, dead fish eyes seemed to have a hint of life. Rhaegar didn��t have time to investigate further as his right hand twitched slightly.


    ��Sssss...��


    A wisp of ck smoke emerged, turning into a ck snake with no eyes or nose. As soon as the Serpent appeared, it climbed up his arm and onto the other shoulder, snarling menacingly at the toad.


    ��Croak.��


    The toad remained unmoved, like a cold, lifeless sculpture. Rhaegar was puzzled, looking left and right. He called up the explorer system panel.


    Rhaegar Targaryen


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold)


    Bloodline: Dragonborn (+60%)


    Runes: Bronze (Green), Serpent (Blue), Dream Eater (Purple)


    Blood magic: Binding Spells (Blue), Dragon Dance (Purple)...


    Relics: Blood and Fire, Dreamscape, Pure Water...


    Comment: ��What you gain in dreams is not necessarily false.��

 Chapter 556: Dragon Dance, Command the Dragons

    Chapter 556: Dragon Dance, Command the Dragons


    "A rune and blood magic,�� Rhaegar murmured, letting out a sigh of relief as he touched the toad with his fingertips.


    ��Croak.��


    The toad was unresponsive, allowing itself to be squashed and pounded. Rhaegar''s eyes softened slightly as he looked at it. ��You��re the one who pulled me into Daenys�� dream and almost made me lose my way?��


    This little creature was the Shadowbinder''s death rattle, an ancient, iplete rune altered into a curse that plunges people into nightmares. The moment Rhaegar was hit, the spirit of the Shadowbinder was strangled. As a result, the ��dream-eating toad�� that was the nightmare curse itself crashed on the spot and was unable to exert its full power. Instead, bybining the dreamer''s talent and ��Dreamscape,�� Rhaegar was drawn into a dream that spanned time and space. During this process, he gradually lost his five senses and almost became a living dead. Perhaps it was the Old Valyria and Daenys in the dream that further stimted Rhaegar��s bloodline power.


    ��What a dangerous little fellow,�� Rhaegar said, rubbing the toad while looking at the bloodline bar on the explorer panel.


    Bloodline: Dragonborn (+60%)


    From 59% to 60%, a significant leap. The ��+�� in front of the number indicated that the gains from the dream still had staying power.


    ��Croak.��


    The toad was squashed into a pancake and let out a feeble wail."I''ll let you go just to show Daenys some respect." Rhaegar''s mouth curled slightly, and he found himself growing fond of the new clownish creature. In the past, the dreamer��s talents and dream visions could only exist passively. With the ��Dream Eater�� as a ��runic spirit�� existing between magic and spirit, it was equivalent to having the initiative.


    ��Ouch, that hurts.��


    A small voice came from behind, and the silver-haired woman got up, tears in her eyes. Rhaegar nced back, and the Dream Eater and the Serpent both disappeared. One burrowed into his head, and the other crawled back into his palm, turning into runes of gray smoke and ck gas, respectively.


    ��You killed him.��


    The silver-haired woman covered her face with her hair, nervously sping her hands together.


    ��Who?�� Rhaegar nced at the corpse of the pseudo-dragon and frowned. ��He was your brother?��


    He doesn��t look like a brother at all. The silver-haired woman gave a tiny ��mm-hmm�� and silently moved the corpse away on her bare feet. Rhaegar raised an eyebrow, and the dragon whip in his hand seemed to move like a living thing. The bloodline of the Aethyrys House should be eradicated. But after experiencing the dreams of ancient Valyria, he felt a bit more... tolerant.


    Pat!


    A tear fell and shattered into several pieces. The silver-haired woman silently wept, bending down to pick up the head of the false dragonlord and cing it in the arms of the corpse. Then, she walked over to the corpse of the ck-robed sorcerer and handed Rhaegar a package containing two fossilized dragon eggs. Rhaegar looked surprised, wondering what she intended.


    ��Sorry, please be quick about it.�� The silver-haired woman knelt on the ground, her hands trembling as she gathered her silver hair into a bun, sobbing softly. ��I am a person without honor, and I hope that I will not be spat on when I die.��


    As she braided her silver hair into a bun, a delicate face with both beauty and ugliness was revealed. Rhaegar was slightly stunned, looking at her in a daze. Her fair skin and well-proportioned features made her appear like a delicate youngdy. However, her forehead and half of her face were covered in fine, pale scales, and her left eye was ashen, giving her a shocking appearance at first nce.


    Feeling Rhaegar��s gaze, the silver-haired woman quickly lowered her head and said with a sense of inferiority, ��I��m sorry, I��ve dirtied your eyes.��


    Hearing this, Rhaegar suddenly snapped back to reality and muttered, ��No, it��s not dirty.��


    The silver-haired woman was puzzled and timidly raised her head. Having had an ugly face since childhood, she had long developed the ability to read people��s expressions.


    ��That��s it, look at me.�� Rhaegar crouched down, lifting her chin with his index finger, and said seriously, ��You are not a bastard, and you deserve to live.��


    ��What?�� The silver-haired woman was stunned.


    ��You don��t have to die,�� Rhaegar said with certainty. ��Get a good night��s sleep and wee a new life.��


    As soon as he finished speaking, his dragonborn state manifested. Dark scales appeared on his forehead, a sharp dragon horn stood upright, and a smile appeared on his pale face.


    ��Croak.��


    The silver-haired woman was transfixed, and then she heard a toad��s croaking. Suddenly, her consciousness began to blur, and her eyes rolled back as she passed out. Rhaegar reached out and helped her limp, delicate body lie down on the floor tiles. Finally, she didn��t have to hit her head on the ground.


    ��Croak.��


    The toad sat on his shoulder, opening its mouth wide to suck in a wisp of gray mist. Rhaegar put away the package containing the fossilized dragon eggs, and a sh of understanding crossed his eyes. He muttered, ��Daena Aethyrys, she really is a descendant of a Dragonlord''s house.�� He patted the toad encouragingly and said, ��Well done, you clownish thing.��


    Dreams are the second consciousness of humans, where many memories are stored. The toad eats other people��s dreams to grow and selectively feeds back to the owner. Just like the Serpent that eats the ck gas from wounds, it slowly strengthens its healing power.


    ��Rune sorcery is not inferior to blood magic,�� Rhaegar praised, then got up and walked back to the window. He hadn��t forgotten that there was a mess to clean up.


    ��Roar!��


    As soon as he poked his head out, a dragon''s roar echoed through the air, and Dragonfire streaked across the sky. Rhaegar looked down at the city and quickly assessed the situation. The city gates were sealed, and the Unsullied army was advancing, crushing the rebellion. The Great Masters were mingling with the Dothraki cavalry, making it hard to distinguish friend from foe.


    ��Roar...�� A loud roar reverberated, and a st of hot air rushed toward the Great Pyramid. Rhaegar looked up and saw three dragons battling above the city. Caraxes and the Sheepstealer darted through the clouds, spitting Dragonfire at each other. A golden beast rampaged through the sky, fighting alongside the ugly mud dragon.


    ��Defeat the enemy, Syrax!�� Themand was cold and delivered in High Valyrian.


    Roar!


    Syrax roared with a ferocity that belied its size and spat golden mes at his opponent. Caraxes, engaged with the Sheepstealer, felt the heat and quickly retreated, biting off a mud-vored horn from the Mud Dragon as it left.


    ��Roar!�� The Sheepstealer cried out in pain and spat out Dragonfire like a spoiled child. The melee was fierce and hard-fought. Rhaegar stared at the rider controlling the golden beast and said in surprise, ��Rhaenyra, you��re in the battle too.��


    When he said this, he couldn��t help but smile. Rhaenyra on the back of the dragon was even more attractive than she was in the pce.


    ��Don��t get too involved in the battle, Syrax.�� From hundreds of meters above, Rhaenyra��s eyes were as sharp as a hawk, directing the battle with meticulous precision. Syrax was very smart and perfectly executed the rider��s orders.


    ��Haha, there should be a limit to internal fighting,�� Rhaegar chuckled, looked around, and muttered, ��Where��s my dragon?�� ording to the nature of Cannibal, he shouldn��t be so quiet.


    ��Roar...�� Suddenly, a familiar scent wafted from somewhere. Rhaegar raised an eyebrow and noticed something strange in an area of the city where smoke was billowing. The smoke rose straight into the sky, and the mes spread far and wide. What was suspicious was that there were no ves nearby to escape.


    Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed as he stared through the smoke. ��Roar...�� A gust of wind swept through, thinning the smoke slightly. A pair of copper-colored pupils the size of bells appeared, and a majestic silhouette like a small mountain crawled through the ruins.


    ��Cannibal!�� Rhaegar whispered softly, his hands clenched around the window frame.


    ��Roar~�� Sunfyrey copsed in the ruins, his chest bloody and his wings badly burned. But no wound was as serious as having the Cannibal by his side. The Cannibal��s green eyes looked down on Sunfyre with indifference, and his scarlet tongue licked his maw.


    The three dragons in the sky couldn��t wait to descend and join the feast on the ground.


    ��What a piece of shit,�� Rhaegar muttered, his face turning cold. He knew it was unrealistic to expect a single dragon to stop the fighting. It was only natural to hope for casualties in the battle between the dragons and to take advantage of the situation.


    ��Let��s stop here,�� Rhaegar muttered, his mood sour as he turned to search the hallway. In the room where the pseudo-dragon had escaped, he spotted a huge horn hanging on the wall.


    Rhaegar didn��t hesitate. He entered the room and took the horn. It was magnificent, made from a single piece of horn, iid with gold and red gems. Rhaegar yed with it for a moment, satisfied. ��It��ll do,�� he said.


    Back at the window, the battle outside continued to rage. Rhaegar stepped onto the windowsill and held the horn to his mouth with both hands. The horn wasrge, more than five feet long, and almostpletely covered his body.


    ��Daenys, thank you for your gift,�� Rhaegar muttered. Then, he looked up and took a deep breath. Biting his red lips, he let the magic of the mes flow into him.


    The next second...


    ��Woo-hoo-hoo...��


    Rhaegar waspletely absorbed in his music, and the horn sounded. The sound was rough and hoarse, like the passionate song of an old man. ck fire erupted as Rhaegar, entranced, revealed his true form as a dragonborn and yed the long-lost dragon dance.


    ��Woo-hoo~"


    The sound of the horn was like a spark, and in an instant, the fire spread, echoing throughout Meereen.


    ��Roar!��


    In the air, the three dragons circled and fought. Suddenly, their pupils shrank at the sound of the horn. Sheepstealer panicked, as if it had seen its natural enemy, and slunk back into the clouds.


    Roar!


    Syrax''s pupils returned to normal as it shook its head and left the battlefield. Only Caraxes, still restless, continued to writhe like a snake, spitting out Dragonfire.


    ��Woo-woo~...��


    Rhaegar gradually closed his eyes, immersing himself in the rhythm of each note. Unbeknownst to him, the explorer��s panel had changed.


    Rhaegar Targaryen


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold)


    Bloodline: Dragonborn (+61%)


    Runes: Bronze (Green), Serpent (Blue), Dream Eater (Purple)


    Blood Sorcery: Binding Spells (Blue), Dragon Dance (Purple)...


    Relics: Blood and Fire, Dreamscape, Pure Water...


    Comment: ��Blowing the ancient chapter, calling the roots of the bloodline.��


    Rhaegar was so absorbed in the music that he didn''t realize his blood was being refined. His chest resonated with a humming sound as he used his breathing technique to control it.


    ��Woo-woo-woo...��


    The dragon dance shifted from low to high, as if the dragon had matured over the years, transforming into a weapon of war that covered the sky and earth.


    ��Roar!��


    Cannibal, distracted from its thoughts of devouring Sunfyre, let out a long cry and leapt into the air with a powerful leap.


    Boom!


    The ck dragon crashed through the smoke,nding in front of the Great Pyramid. Its wings supported its weight on the ground, and its back swayed gently, bringing its terrifying dragon head just below the windowsill.


    Sensing something, Rhaegar stepped onto the windowsill with all his might and leapt out.


    ��Roar!��


    Cannibal growled and caught the rider, standing like a colossal statue in front of the tower. Rhaegar stood firm, ying the final notes of the dragon dance.


    Hum...


    An inexplicable aura of power radiated from every dragon.


    ��Roar!��


    ��Roar...��


    The cobalt blue Tessarion roared into the sky, carrying its rider to the Great Pyramid. Daeron, stunned, did not dare to stop the dragon beneath him.


    At the same time, Syrax, Sheepstealer, and Caraxes, regardless of their emotions, put aside their fighting spirit and slowly descended with caution.


    ��Ha ha, a dance of dragons,�� Rhaegarughed, sitting down on the hard dragon''s head. With his horn in his left hand and his whip in his right, he looked like the reincarnation of an ancient Valyrian Dragonlord.

 Chapter 557: Aegon, Do You Want a Second Wife?

    Chapter 557: Aegon, Do You Want a Second Wife?


    Roar!


    Several dragons let out a long howl, their pupils wide and alert as they looked at the <em>Dragoneater</em>. To be precise, it was a man and a dragon standing in front of the Great Pyramid.


    ��Syrax, what''s wrong with you?�� Rhaenyra, sweating profusely,y on the dragon''s saddle, concerned for her beloved. Syrax shook its head andy down on the ground. It didn''t know either, but the magic of the horn had calmed the ferocity in its bones.


    ��Sheepstealer, move!�� Aemond gripped the reins tightly and urged the dragon on.


    ��Roar...�� The Sheepstealer nced at the Blood Wyrm and reluctantly moved. Caraxes snorted sharply, looking at the dragon cub with narrowed eyes.


    ��Quiet, Caraxes,�� Daemonmanded, calm and collected. He sensed danger in the sound of the horn. He had already lost the chance to take revenge by not killing his one-eyed nephew initially. If he continued, his good nephew would not sit idly by.


    ...


    ��Cannibal, you never learn.�� Rhaegar leaned back, elbows braced against the hard scales, teasing the dragon.


    ��Roar...�� Cannibal let out a muted roar, as if in protest. It is a cannibal. Is it wrong to be greedy?��You are very naughty, partner.�� Rhaegar grumbled and stopped pursuing the matter.


    Bang! The half-meter-tall horn was thrown away, tumbling to the ground and breaking into pieces like a melon rind. Under the scorching ck fire, the horn material burned outrge and small holes, and the yellow gold melted into a liquid. This is the side effect of the Dragon Dance, which is too much for the mortal world to bear. If Rhaegar were not a dragonborn, he would have been burned to death.


    ��Put me down,�� Rhaegar patted the dragon''s head and looked down at the other dragons.


    ��Roar...�� Cannibal snorted heavily, and its body slowly slithered down, its head resting t on the ground.


    Daeron, who was closest to the dragon, swallowed involuntarily. ��Gulp~�� The ck dragon crouched down, and at first nce, it looked as if a mountain of coal had copsed and would bury them at any second.


    ��It��s so scary.�� Daeron��s face turned pale, and he rubbed against Tessarion''s scales. Tessarion was no better off than the rider, trembling and curling up into a cobalt blue ball. The dual deterrent of the <em>Dragoneater</em> and the dragon dance was simply too much for a young dragon to bear.


    The other adult dragons were much better off. Syrax obediently lowered itself to allow the rider to slide off its back.


    ��Rhaegar, are you okay!?�� Rhaenyra rolled off the dragon and ran up to him, carrying The Realm��s Delight over her shoulder.


    ��I had a dream.�� Rhaegar smiled, put the dragon whip back on his shoulder, and opened his arms to wee her. ��It was peaceful, not as good as your dragon fighting.��


    ��Nonsense.�� Rhaenyra threw herself into his arms, her eyes misty with tears. ��If anything happened to you, everyone would suffer.��


    Still not satisfied, she clenched her fists and punched his chest.


    Thud! Rhaenyra cried out in pain.


    ��Huh? What��s going on?�� Rhaenyra was confused by the sight, first holdingRhaegar��s red, clenched fists, then examining his body.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes widened as she lifted Rhaegar''s hem, revealing his dragonborn form. His skin was pale as paper, with angr muscles that were particrly defined.


    ��Rhaegar, you��ve grown,�� she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. She pinched Rhaegar��s right chest, then moved to his left. The ck scales were arranged like a stalwart shield. Rhaegar looked down to see seven ck dragon scales growing from his chest, protecting his heart.


    Rhaenyra quickly covered him with her body, turned around, and nced back, whispering anxiously, ��Has your bloodline been refined again?��


    Rhaegar��s bloodline was too pure, and the dragon��s nature was hidden in his bones. Once the purity exceeds the upper limit, his spirit will also be affected.


    ��It seems so,�� Rhaegar replied. He touched his chest. The scales were not smooth but rough and hot, like a metal shield exposed to the sun on a hot day. But he didn��t feel out of control; his mood was stable and peaceful.


    ��Rhaegar, don��t lie to me.�� Rhaenyra was still very worried.


    ��Don��t worry, I��m fine.�� Rhaegar was unusually serious, holding her hand and pressing it against his chest. The calm and orderly heartbeat proved he was not lying.


    He silently opened the explorer panel.


    Rhaegar Targaryen


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold)


    Bloodline: Dragonborn (+62%)


    Runes: Bronze (Green), Serpent (Blue), Dream Eater (Purple)


    Blood Sorcery: Binding Spells (Blue), Dragon Dance (Purple)...


    Relics: Blood and Fire, Dreamscape, Pure Water...


    Comment: ��Ancient bloodline, good at making up for deficiencies.��


    Rhaegar��s bloodline bar had risen again, and his bloodline purity increased. From 61% to 62%, the ��+�� in front of the number still existed.


    ��The Dragon Dance greatly stimted the blood,�� Rhaegar mused, gratitude for Daenys rising to new heights. She must have sensed something and had gone to great lengths to get him to listen to the Dragon Dance.


    ��Are you sure you��re okay?��


    ��Of course.�� Seeing Rhaegar��s confident expression, Rhaenyra let out a sigh of relief and whispered, ��What are you going to do about Daemon and Aemond?��


    The behavior of the uncle and nephew was extremely bad. She tried to mediate between them, but when that failed, she took sides, fighting whoever was winning to stop the dragons from making ast-ditch attempt.


    ��You��ve worked hard,�� Rhaegar said, understanding his sister��s mind. He hugged her delicate waist, giving her a warm embrace. For some reason, perhaps the music of the Dragon Dance that soothed his dragon nature or it was the spirit he had gained after his dream, Rhaegar felt calm as a spring. He was not disturbed by the anger over the fake dragonlord and the internal strife in the house.


    Rhaenyra listened to the sound and felt the pressure on her chest, leaning unnaturally into the embrace. The feeling of being pinched was both annoying and fascinating.


    ...


    ��Uncle, you started this, didn��t you?�� Rhaegar''s voice was calm as he looked at Daemon, who had dismounted from his dragon.


    Daemon ced his hands on his stomach and replied with regret, ��Yes, I should have acted decisively.�� He thought about the escape of the ugly mud dragon and calcted that he had a 70% chance of sess with Caraxes.


    ��It��s good that you admit it,�� Rhaegar nodded and then turned to Aemond, his expression cold. ��You should be in the east of Essos, not leading Dothraki cavalry to invade Meereen.��


    The source of the turmoil was essentially Aemond. If he hadn��t led the Dothraki cavalry to attack the city, the war wouldn��t have spread, and the three dragons wouldn��t have shed. At most, it would have been a ve revolt, easily suppressed by the Unsullied.


    Aemond listened to the usations and retorted, ��I wanted to help you, but Daemon attacked me!��


    ��Oh?�� Daemon nced at him and sneered, ��Do you want to see the city walls that your dragon burned down? I was only attacking the invaders.��


    "Daemon, you think you can threaten me because you''re older?" Aemond''s voice was cold, and his one eye shed with anger.


    ��That��s right.�� Daemon smiled, looking at his one-eyed nephew with a tilted head, deliberately provoking, ��So, what do you want to do?��


    Swish! Aemond''s anger red, and he unsheathed the sword at his waist. The Scarlet Forger��s blood-red groove gleamed with a sharp edge, as if a bloody scent permeated the air.


    Bang! ��You can��t even hold a sword properly, you idiot.�� Daemon showed satisfaction and suddenly kicked Aemond��s wrist, sending the Scarlet Forger flying.


    ��No!�� Aemond was shocked, not expecting Daemon to y by the rules. The sudden move stunned both Rhaenyra and Daeron.


    ��Oh, two idiots,�� Rhaegar sighed with regret. ��Let��s all take a nap.��


    ��Gurgle.�� The toad popped out of his head, its dead fish eyes glowing. Rhaegar ced his palm under his lips and gently exhaled.


    Hoo�� The invisible gas swirled up a wisp of gray sand, which drifted into the nostrils of the two. Daemon and Aemond felt their heads buzz and their bodies fall back.


    Plop! Plop! Two muffled sounds as their heads hit the ground with pinpoint uracy.


    ��Magic!�� Daeron eximed.


    ��Mm-hmm,�� Rhaegar smiled. ��Take Aemond down, and I��ll teach you a few tricks when I have time.��


    ��Yes, brother!�� Daeron, full of energy, carried Aemond��s heavy body away.


    ��Roar...�� Sheepstealer, stunned and looking around at the people present, wanted to rescue its rider.


    "Roar..." Cannibal saw its intentions and opened its mouth wide, growling. The Sheepstealer immediately became obedient and slumped back.


    Rhaegar did not sit idle. He kicked the sleeping Daemon and sighed, ��When he wakes up, tell him to go back to King��s Landing. I wonder how he will face our father.�� Daemon had attacked Rhaegar before, and now he had done the same to Aemond. Rhaegar had no desire to judge his uncle; he would let their father handle it.


    Rhaenyra hesitated but ultimately did not refute him. Daemon had be more agreeable in recent years, doing his best to respect her and Rhaegar, but Aemond had hired a killer to assassinate White Worm, and Rhaegar had protected his brother.


    The conflict between Daemon and Aemond put Rhaegar in a difficult position. It would be better to leave it to their father in King��s Landing to decide.


    ��Your Grace,�� the Sea Snake approached from afar, nked by a group of Unsullied. Rhaegar nced at them and asked, ��How is it going?��


    He was distracted, thinking about ancient Valyria. Reading Daena Aethyrys'' dream memories had confirmed that there was a dragon horn in The Lands of the Long Summer. The dream dragon''s horn had the power to calm the dragons of the Fourteen mes. The House''s internal strife stemmed from the dragons that gave House Targaryen the courage to fight. If he could obtain a horn, he would not have to worry about the dragons being used against the House.


    The Sea Snake, sweating and with clenched teeth, reported, ��The rebellion has been initially suppressed. The Great Masters and the ve soldiers have been arrested, and the Dothraki cavalry have all left the city.�� The 5,000 Unsullied were enough to sweep through ver��s Bay. Meereen, with only 2,000 or 3,000 men, was insignificant.


    Rhaegar nodded in response, then suddenly remembered, ��What about Aegon?��


    ��Prince Aegon...�� The Sea Snake was speechless for a moment, then said, ��You should see for yourself.��


    Rhaegar��s face changed slightly. He turned and mounted the Cannibal.


    ...


    In the ruins, the broken golden dragony gravely injured, moaning weakly.


    ��Sunfyre, my Sunfyre...�� Aegon couldn��t hold back his tears as he called out to the ckened dragon horn.


    ��Roar...�� Sunfyre''s pupils were dted, and his body was wracked with pain. Unable to move, he could only lift the tip of his tail. The tail, once covered with pale pink dorsal fins, was now burnt bare.


    With a thud, the dragon��s tail hit the ground and slid gently to the feet of its rider. Aegon looked at it, his heart sinking. ��Sunfyre!�� Both man and dragon were badly injured, huddled together to keep warm. This was the scene Rhaegar found when he arrived.


    ��Don��t cry. It won��t die,�� Rhaegar said, helping Aegon to his feet. ��I have a way to help Sunfyre heal.��


    ��Really?�� Aegon��s eyes were streaming with tears, and blood oozed from his bandaged stomach.


    ��I��m not lying.�� Rhaegar summoned the Serpent to carefully treat Sunfyre. Dragons were the most powerful magical creatures. As long as they didn��t die on the spot, they could heal even the most serious injuries. At worst, he would ride the Cannibal to Sothoryos and hunt some wyverns. The meat was good, and the wounds would heal quickly.


    Hearing this, Aegon''s tense spirit rxed, and he felt dizzy. He had been through a lot that day: entering the city, being attacked, chaos, and Sunfyre being injured. It had caused significant trauma to his fragile heart.


    ��Go to sleep. Get some rest.�� Rhaegar sighed softly, putting Aegon in his arms and resting his head on his chest. What else could a brother do?


    Aegon sobbed, mumbling in a daze, ��Mommy~��


    Rhaegar''s face darkened, his heart filled with mixed emotions. Alicent had not been a good mother. All the childrencked love. Of all the children, Aegon, the most spoiled, had the deepest affection for her and often visited Harrenhal, despite their frequent arguments and bad partings.


    ��Aegon is getting older, past the age of marriage,�� Rhaegar thought silently, considering the danger Aegon had been in today. If the assassin''s dagger had pierced his heart or throat instead of his belly, he would have lost a brother, and a bloodline of the house would have been cut off.


    His mind shed to the obedient face of Daena Aethyrys. Pat! Rhaegar knew what he wanted to do. He pped Aegon on the back of the head, and with a dazed look in his eyes, asked, ��Aegon, do you want another wife?��

 Chapter 558: The Hidden Dangers of the House

    Chapter 558: The Hidden Dangers of the House


    Meereen, Inside the City.


    "Quick, catch them!"


    "There''s a son of the Harpy..."


    The shouts echoed through the streets as Grey Worm led the Unsullied army, systematically hunting down the rebels. Any ve or Harpy sons found with a weapon was killed on the spot.


    "Do not disturb the people. Seal off the pyramids and arenas of the Great Masters!" The Sea Snakemanded, his voice steady and authoritative as he oversaw the operation from a strategic position.


    Meereen, with its towering walls, was a sprawling city dotted with more than thirty pyramids and numerous ve markets. The colosseums, thriving centers for both entertainment andmerce, were significant to the Great Masters'' wealth and influence.


    "Lord, there are many ves in the arena," Addam reported, his voice low and his armor stained with blood.


    "Continue to detain them and provide them with food and water," the Sea Snake replied, his tone measured. He then pointed to an ancient pyramid, rising a hundred feet above the ground. "His Grace wants to interrogate the Great Masters. You will lead a Vryon squad to search for the Golden Word."


    Addam''s initial shock quickly turned to excitement. "Yes, my lord," he responded eagerly. He called over a group of soldiers, their armor emzoned with the seahorse emblem, and they moved swiftly toward the pyramid.As the Sea Snake watched Addam and his men disappear into the distance, a wave of mixed emotions washed over him. His thoughts wandered briefly to Laenor.


    ...


    At the City Gate.


    Cannibal crouched on the ground, its massive head raised high and its two wings spread wide like a menacing guillotine. Hundreds of Great Masters, their faces contorted in terror and stained with urine and feces, looked up at the ck dragon in panic.


    It was too immense. Even the 800-foot-high Great Pyramid, with its Harpy sculpture at the top, seemed like a mere broken house in front of the dragon''s colossal form. The Great Masters, men and women alike, were bound together likemon ves, unable to escape.


    ��Gentlemen, anyst words?�� Rhaegar sat astride the Cannibal, his chest bare and his body unclothed.


    ��Please, let us go! We''ll pay you in gold!�� A young Great Master fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. They had heard tales of the Good Masters of Yunkai paying for their lives and hoped to strike a simr bargain.


    Unfortunately, they had misjudged their captor. Rhaegar chuckled and tilted his head to the side. ��Listen, if I kill you all, your wealth will be mine as well.��


    ��No, no!�� The remaining Great Masters werepletely panicked, begging for mercy. But Rhaegar had no intention of sparing them.


    ��Roar...�� Cannibal sensed its master''s intent, opening its hideous mouth as dragonfire began to umte in its throat.


    ��Dracarys!�� Rhaegarmanded.


    Boom.


    The misty, greenish dragonfire erupted from the Cannibal''s maw, pouring down on the heads of the Great Masters like a torrential flood.


    ��Ah! Help...��


    ��Kill me, kill me quickly...��


    Thend turned ck as the dark green mes engulfed everyone, ravaging and tormenting them like maggots on a bone. The Great Masters did not die instantly; instead, they writhed in agony under the mes. Some smashed their own heads in, while others used hidden daggers to slit their throats, desperate for the luxury of a quick death.


    In the distance, a group of Unsullied were holding another Great Master captive. Almos, stripped of his magnificent robe and scepter,y on the ground like a piece of rotten mud, his spirit on the verge of copse.


    ��Roar...�� Cannibal slowly turned its head, its green pupils shing with mockery. The Unsullied flinched, lifting their spears and stepping back.


    ��No, not dragonfire...�� Almos'' pupils trembled, his face covered in terror as he crawled on all fours like a dog, trying to escape his inevitable fate.


    ��All right, Cannibal.�� Rhaegar patted the pale dragon horn, his eyes glinting with interest. ��How many wizards from Asshai have you hired?��


    The Ghis descendant in front of him, Almos, was visibly flustered. He stammered out a half-truth, ��No, I only bought a few wizards. Asshai uses this as a springboard to contact the outside world.��


    ��Are the Asshai wizards interested in the outside world?�� Rhaegar��s tone was skeptical.


    ��Yes, I��m not lying.�� Almos waved his hands frantically, revealing more, ��They study magic and use my ships to travel around the world.��


    Rhaegar frowned at this news. A group of wizards with no interest but in causing trouble would only bring chaos wherever they went. As he pondered, Almos��s eyes darted around, desperately seeking a way to save his life.


    ��How many pseudo-dragonslords are there in ver��s Bay?�� Rhaegar''s question cut through his thoughts.


    Almos hesitated, trying to evade, ��Just that one family. The rest are of Valyrian descent, but we can��t be sure.��


    ��Oh?�� Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed. Without a word from him, the Unsullied raised their spears and pierced Almos''s thigh.


    ��Ahhh!�� Almos screamed in agony, his pleas for mercy bing frantic, ��Spare me, I dare not lie anymore.��


    Rhaegar remained calm, ��Where are the bloodlines of the false dragonslords?��


    ver��s Bay, the closest Oldcastle to ancient Valyria, surely had other descendants of the Dragonlords. Perhaps their bloodline was diluted, or they had forgotten their ancestral glory. But they were still Dragonlord descendants.


    Under the torture, Almos broke, spitting out names of small families suspected to be Dragonlord descendants. ��I have many concubines, all of whom are pregnant with the blood of the false dragonlord,�� he added desperately.


    ��Very good,�� Rhaegar said with a faint smile. Four or five small families, possibly descendants of the Dragonlord, living in ver��s Bay amidst vast disparities of wealth. Without the Dragonlord surname, they were akin to herdsmen before the pseudo-dragons'' rise.


    ��Your Grace, I��ve told you everything.�� Almos, sweating profusely, begged, ��You can keep me and let me manage Meereen for you.��


    ��Yes, you are very useful.�� Rhaegar��s smile did not deny it, and Almos��s eyes lit up with hope.


    ��But you��re more useful to me dead.�� Rhaegar��s smile faded, turning cold. ��Dracarys, Cannibal.��


    ��Roar!�� Cannibal responded, spewing Dragonfire that enveloped Almos in a nket of mes.


    ��Ahhhhhhhhhh~" Almos''s screams echoed as the Dragonfire burned his skin inch by inch, his body writhing in agony.


    The death of the Great Masters symbolized a new era in Meereen, a drastic shift in power and the dawn of a changed world.


    ...


    At night, in the Great Pyramid of Meereen, Rhaegar sat in a chair that once belonged to the Great Masters, a scarf draped over his shoulders. The cool night breeze blew into the room, flipping the pages of the books on the table.


    Rhaegar��s spirit was concentrated as he carefully made notes on an ancient map of The Lands of the Long Summer. Many topographical features had been marked by the false dragonlord, providing a detailed record of the region.


    ��Still studying the map?�� Rhaenyra��s voice broke the silence. She emerged from the bathroom, her silver hair still damp, and approached Rhaegar with light steps.


    Startled, Rhaegar rubbed his brow. ��This map is much more urate than the one in Dragonstone. I��ve been marking the territory that our house once owned.��


    Rhaenyra nced at the map and then back at Rhaegar, concern in her eyes. ��Don��t strain yourself too much,�� she said softly. She took a towel and gently dried his long hair. ��Meereen has surrendered, and the entire ver��s Bay is under our control. We have been very sessful.��


    Rhaegar leaned back, finding a soft spot to rest his head. He sighed, ��It��s not enough. The House has too many ws.��


    His father had been right; the Targaryens were a chaotic and disorganized bunch. Despite each member having a dragon, there was always internal strife. During his father��s reign, the king was weak, and the advisers were strong, creating a power imbnce. If it weren��t for Rhaenys��s understanding and consideration, a second bloodshed of dragons would have been inevitable.


    Today, the internal environment of the house had greatly improved. Rhaegar was strong enough tomand respect with his Cannibal, but thebined strength of one man and one dragon was not enough to suppress the rest of the family. Daemon and Aemond were prime examples. They recognized Rhaegar��s rule but also criticized each other. If Rhaenyra hadn��t intervened, the two would have fought each other until the moment Rhaegar left the dream world.


    ��Daemon is gone,�� Rhaenyra sighed. ��The uncle and nephew are both a worry. There will be a fight sooner orter.��


    ��If a house wants to thrive, it must have a treasure that is important to the house,�� Rhaegar said, looking up at her. ��I wanted to suppress the internal struggles and wait until our children grew up.��


    When they children grow up, the house will surely regain the splendor of the time when the Old King was alive, Rhaenyra frowned slightly, waiting for him to finish.


    "But this is a temporary solution that doesn''t solve the problem," Rhaegar said with a hint of disappointment. He continued sincerely, "Even if our children don''t fight when they grow up, it''s inevitable that their children will."


    Controlling the dragons of House Targaryen isn''t easy, and the family can''t rely on feelings to maintain unity. Aegon the Conqueror was a legendary figure, but his family was a mess. His sister, Queen Rhaenys, was jealous and spoiled by her brother Aegon and sister Visenya. For every night Aegon spent with Visenya, he had to spend ten with Rhaenys. On the nights Aegon was absent, she would summon her male lover to spend the night singing andughing.


    Rhaegar boldly imed, "If Queen Rhaenys hadn''t been killed, the sisters would have fought sooner orter."


    The descendants of the conqueror, Aenys and Maegor, were also at odds with each other. Maegor''s kinying was not only cruel to his nephew but also a result of the grudges from the previous generation. Even in Aegon''s family, there were already many hidden problems. Not to mention therger and moreplex family that Rhaegar alone was responsible for maintaining. There was his uncle Daemon, his aunt Rhaenys, five siblings of the same generation, and arge number of children in the next generation.


    Rhaegar had always been rtively tolerant and gave them the utmost respect. He married Rhaenyra and Hena to bring several half-brothers into his circle. As the eldest son, Baelon had his support and an almost smooth path. But what about the next generation and the one after that? The house is growing more prosperous every day. In a few generations, there won''t be enough dragon eggs to go around, let alone dragons to ride.


    "The problem is not scarcity, but inequality. What will happen then?" he wondered.


    Rhaenyra understood what he meant and hugged him tightly, whispering, "Rhaegar, do you still want to go to the Smoking Sea?"


    The Smoking Sea held the dragon horn, which could suppress the restless dragons. Rhaegar didn''t deny it, saying, "I wanted to conquer ver''s Bay and then take Daemon to the Smoking Sea." The ident came too soon, and Daemon had to make up for the mistake.


    "Then wait a while before going to the Smoking Sea," Rhaenyra whispered. "You found an Aethyrys girl for Aegon, solving the problem of his marriage, there''s only Aemond left."


    Their Father Viserys valued the marriage of his heir. But Aegon didn''t like his fianc��e, Selina Hightower, and dyed the wedding. Aemond was of age but was also holding things up.


    "Fine, let''s go back and see our father," Rhaegar agreed.

 Chapter 559: Who is the Killer?

    Chapter 559: Who is the Killer?


    Time flies, and days pass.


    In Meereen''s arena, the sound of shing metal echoed, with asional sparks lighting the air. Rhaegar sat on a high tform, observing the fight below. A rugged Dothraki Bloodrider wielding a curved de faced off against a heavily armored knight.


    Despite his armor, the knight struggled against the nimble Bloodrider. After a dozen rounds, the knight finally emerged victorious. Rhaegar turned and smiled, ��Rao-Khal, see? Armor has its uses.��


    Rao replied in strained Valyrian, his expression nk, ��Dothraki... never wear... iron clothes.��


    ��Oh, suit yourself,�� Rhaegar said, respecting the Dothraki''s traditions despite his good mood.


    Rao nced at the defeated Bloodrider, who angrily cut his braid, a gesture of disgrace among the Dothraki. He and Rhaegar shared a history. Rao-Khal had been hired by the Prince of Pentos during the siege of Myr and had received a generous gift from Rhaegar after the war, allowing his tribe to flourish. This time, the Great Masters of Meereen had employed him, only for him to be captured by Aemond at the Mother of Mountains. Under the threat of the Sheepstealer and Rhaegar��s name, he chose to follow Aemond in the counterattack on Meereen.


    As the two men conversed, the Sea Snake approached from the audience. He first looked at the victorious knight, who removed his helmet to reveal a young face with silver hair and dark skin. Then he walked over to Rhaegar and whispered, ��Your Grace, the representatives of the various houses have all arrived.��


    ��Do they agree?�� Rhaegar asked.


    The Sea Snake squeezed out a smile, ��Don''t worry, no one will refuse an extra asset.��ver''s Bay had fallen, and the ve masters of the three Free Cities had been dethroned. The Targaryen dynasty couldn''t extend its reach so far, at least not in Rhaegar''s generation. The region was too distant, thriving on ve trading��a thankless task for any ruler. But after toppling the long-established ver''s Bay, Rhaegar was unwilling to leave it as it was. With his knack for leveraging situations to his advantage, he devised a n to benefit himself while disadvantaging others.


    Rhaegar rubbed his chin thoughtfully, ��In addition to the Hightowers and House Lannister, Crownds nobles like Darklyn, Rosby, and Staunton will each receive an extra share ofnd.��


    If the Targaryens couldn��t directly govern ver''s Bay, they could grant it to nobles loyal to them, encouraging them to colonize and influence the region. Over time, ver''s Bay would still fall under the Iron Throne''s influence.


    ��You are very generous, Your Grace,�� the Sea Snake remarked.


    The Crownds nobles, not being wealthy, would benefit from newnds overseas, sending their second sons to develop them. This would ensure the royal family��s favor and support from the nobles.


    ��It��s a necessary evil, Lord Corlys,�� Rhaegar stood up, adding, ��Rao-Khal has given the Iron Throne a hundred scorpion crossbows. Don��t forget to return the favor when he leaves.��


    These scorpion crossbows, high-priced Meereenese defense devices from Qohor, had been confiscated in their original packaging.The Sea Snake understood the implication and said, ��Qohor makes many weapons and is very resistant to the Iron Throne.��


    Free Cities ruled by religion posed a potential threat at any time.


    ��When I have time, I will visit Qohor myself,�� Rhaegar affirmed, intrigued by Qohor��s ancient heritage and knowing several top craftsmen there but never having set foot in the city.


    Before leaving, he warned, ��Prepare arge ship. I''m returning to Westeros.��


    ��Yes, Your Grace,�� the Sea Snake replied.


    ...


    King''s Landing, Red Keep.


    The Small Council convened in the dimly lit chamber, the weight of recent events hanging heavy in the air. Viserys sat on the Iron Throne, his weary body slumped as though the burden of the crown was too much to bear.


    ��Your Grace, Lady Cassandra of House Baratheon has passed away. Her sister, Lady Maris, has seeded her as the Lady of Storm''s End,�� Lord Lyonel Strong announced, his voice slow and gentle, as if he were speaking to an elderly man in his final days.


    Viserys blinked, a frown creasing his brow. ��Cassandra is dead?�� he asked, his voice tinged with confusion and disbelief. She was his daughter-inw; how could she die without a clear cause?


    Lyonel sighed deeply. ��Indeed, Your Grace. It is a great loss, and no one regrets the death of Lady Cassandra more than House Baratheon.��


    ��By the Seven, what terrible news,�� Viserys muttered, his forehead beading with cold sweat. His already paleplexion turned ashen.


    Before anyone could respond, Jasper Wylde, known as Iron Rod, suddenly spoke up. ��Luck alone does not always determine a person''s fate, Your Grace.��


    Viserys turned to him, puzzled. ��What do you mean?��


    The other advisors exchanged uneasy nces, clearly disapproving of Jasper''s boldness. Ignoring their silent rebukes, Jasper continued, ��ording to the testimony of Steffon Connington, the captain of the guards at Storm''s End, Lady Cassandra''s death was not an ident. It appears to have been a deliberate murder.��


    Lyonel''s frown deepened, his voice filled with warning. ��Speak with evidence, Iron Rod. Such usations are serious.��


    Viserys, sensing the gravity of the situation, interrupted, ��Let him continue. We must uncover the truth.��


    Jasper gave Lyonel a sly look before exining, ��On the eve of Lady Cassandra''s death, Storm''s End hired a group of new servants. One of them was the maid who served Lady Cassandra her supper that night.��


    He had proof: this was indeed murder.


    His animosity from House Baratheon was clear; they had never honored their marriage alliance with him.


    The heir to Storm''s End now seemed unlikely to ever secure the throne. Viserys was stunned by the revtion. He never imagined Cassandra would met such a violent end.


    Lyonel, concerned for the aging king''s health, spoke cautiously, ��Your Grace, this is aplex matter. Lord Jasper might be jumping to conclusions.��


    Reports from across the Narrow Sea suggested Prince Aemond had hired an assassin to kill the White Worm. White Worm was known to be Daemon''s close confidante. It was widely recognized that Prince Daemon was notorious for his vindictiveness and womanizing.


    Jasper pressed on, ��I have a statement from Steffon Connington implicating Maris Baratheon in the murder.��


    Whether true or not, Jasper''s tactic was clear: cast suspicion first.


    Lyonel was silent, his face flushed with anger.


    Tormund, the Master of Whisperers, with his hands hidden in his sleeves, spoke in a measured tone, ��Lord Jasper, how can you be certain of Steffon Connington''s testimony?��


    Jasper replied confidently, ��He was Lady Cassandra''s most trusted captain in the guard.��


    ��Oh?�� Tormund drawled, his gaze fixed intently on Jasper. ��Don''t you think their rtionship might have been too close?��


    As Master of Whisperers, Tormund knew secrets even the king might not be privy to. He was privy to information that, if revealed, could destabilize the realm.


    Jasper, caught off guard, suddenly recalled something and closed his mouth in anger.


    As the meeting dragged on, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense. Viserys, sensing the evasion and concealment around him, burst out, ��Who is the murderer? Do you all think I''m an old fool?��


    ��Your Grace...�� Lyonel began, but his voice trailed off,den with mixed emotions. After all, it was his brother used of killing his son''s fianc��e.


    ��Tell me, who is it?�� Viserys demanded, his rage causing his breath toe in short, erratic gasps.


    Lyonel wiped the sweat from his forehead, feeling the immense pressure.


    Bang!


    The door to the council chamber flew open, and a cool breeze swept in. Viserys turned in surprise, squinting against the sunlight.


    Daemon stood in the doorway, a calm yet determined look on his face, a hint of longing in his eyes. ��Brother,�� he greeted quietly.

 Chapter 560: To Stay or to Go

    Chapter 560: To Stay or to Go


    Time flies, and summer has arrived.


    King''s Landing, Mud Gate.


    The thick city gates stand wide open, and the bustling crowd tramples the moss-covered ground as they carry fruits, vegetables, and fish to the market stalls, their voices rising in a cacophony of shouts and haggling. The Seven Kingdoms have been unified for several years now, and the standard of living has improved significantly. However, the strong smell of fish still permeates the air, a reminder of the city''s proximity to the sea.


    It is noon, and the fishermen are pulling up theirs and heading home early. The vendors are more enthusiastic than ever, and the market is surrounded by threeyers of eager customers.


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, a deep roar reverberates like a massive bell, sending waves surging through ckwater Bay. At the same time, a vast fleet of ships sails into the bay, stretching as far as the eye can see.


    "Quiet, Cannibal!"


    A ck dragon leaps over the city walls, and a familiar voice echoes from the sky. The vendors and townsfolk look up, their eyes widening as they behold the dragon blocking out the sun.


    "Roar!""Roar..."


    Two more dragons burst into view, flying around the ck dragon before soaring into the city.


    "Syrax," someone smiles, recognizing the golden beast of the queen.


    Most of the crowd admires the cobalt blue dragon, praising its beauty as they have done many times before. The Targaryen dynasty has ruled for over a hundred years, and the people have gradually be ustomed to the presence of dragons. They are regarded as gods, but not feared.


    Suddenly, a dull, orderly drumbeat begins to sound.


    Boom, boom, boom...


    The fleet upies the route to ckwater Bay, with the blue seahorse g flying high, demonstrating its ancient and noble heritage.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal seems to be deliberately circling King''s Landing, its roar drowning out all other sounds. Rhaegar smiles faintly and calmly opens his arms. He nces down at the harbor and notices arge ship flying the banner of the stag with the crown.


    "The ship of Storm''s End?" Rhaegar raises an eyebrow, pondering the significance of its presence.


    ...


    Red Keep


    "Congrattions on your victory, Your Grace," Lyonel announced, leading the Small Council to greet Rhaegar. The crowd at the gate buzzed with excitement.


    "The Seven Gods have blessed us indeed," Rhaegar replied, smiling as he returned to the pce after months away. He made his way to Maegor''s Holdfast, his eyes scanning the familiar surroundings, searching for any sign of Daemon.


    His uncle, Daemon, had returned to Westeros half a month ago. Yet, his whereabouts remained uncertain. Would he escape again, as he had before? Like when he abducted Laena and fled to the Free Cities or abandoned Lady Rhea and his title of King of the Narrow Sea? Daemon had a history of mistakes and a habit of running away.


    "Your Grace," Lyonel called, his face jiggling with every step as he hurried to keep up.


    Rhaegar sensed something was wrong from the look in Lyonel��s eyes. "What is it?"


    "It''s about Daemon and Prince Aemond," Lyonel whispered, looking troubled. "Lady Cassandra of Storm''s End has passed away, and Flea Bottom is rife with rumors that Daemon is behind it."


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed with concern. "Where is Daemon?"


    "He returned to King''s Landing two weeks ago and had a private conversation with the old king," Lyonel exined, suspicion in his voice. "It seems that a cold war has broken out between them. Daemon is living in a brothel in Flea Bottom."


    "He didn��t leave?" Rhaegar asked, surprised.


    Lyonel sighed. "It''s just like a dozen years ago. One is furious, and the other is living it up in Flea Bottom."


    Rhaegar nodded slightly, finding the rtionship between his father and Daemon moreplex than he had realized.


    "Oh, yes, there is one more important thing," Lyonel added.


    "Let''s get it all out of the way," Rhaegar said.


    "You''ll have to forgive me," Lyonel continued, looking around to ensure no one else was listening. "Lady Maris is visiting King''s Landing. Lady Jeyne of the Vale and Lady Margaery of House Tyrell both sent ravens at the same time to announce their visit."


    "Under what pretext?" Rhaegar asked, trying to decipher the intentions of the three women. With Cassandra dead, Maris was the rightful heir to Storm''s End. It was normal for a new heir to visit King''s Landing to smooth rtions with the royal family. But it was unusual for Jeyne and Margaery toe together.


    Lyonel shrugged helplessly. "The news of you breaking the evil very in ver''s Bay has spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms, and they havee to celebrate."


    Rhaegar''s head ached at the thought. "How long until the other two arrive?"


    "Considering the roads, both parties are about half a month away," Lyonel said apologetically. "The Grand Maester received the ravens half a month ago."


    "Seven levels of hell!" Rhaegar cursed, walking forward with his head down. "I''ll see my father first, then Daemon. I won��t see anyone else."


    "Lady Maris has already arrived at the pier," Lyonel reminded him.


    "Tell Rhaenyra to take care of her. It''s the Queen''s duty."


    "But..." Lyonel hesitated, looking at the ground as if he wanted to say something but couldn��t. After a moment, he sighed helplessly.


    He turned and saw Rhaenyra standing behind him, apanied by Sea Snake and Aegon. Aegon, who had just recovered from his injuries, was slumped over, his head hanging down. Sunfyre had been too badly injured to travel and remained in Meereen to recover. Aegon had been seasick the entire journey back.


    Lyonel''s eyes rested on the silver-haired woman supporting Aegon. Daena''s face was hidden by a veil, and she held Aegon''s arm like a gentle shepherd guiding a lostmb.


    "Slow down, I''m dizzy," Aegon murmured weakly, his head resting in her arms.


    Lyonel tilted his head, looking dumbfounded at the scene before him.


    ...


    The King''s Chambers


    Rhaegar arrived in a hurry, immediately upset by the news. With a harem full of women and alreadyplicated politics, the arrival of three women in King''s Landing was an unweeplication. They weren��t here for a marriage alliance��all three of his younger brothers were already married, and he certainly couldn��t afford another marriage himself.


    He stopped two Kingsguard from bowing and greeting him, and pushed open the door to his bedchamber with a creak. The familiaryout greeted him, but the smell of the medicine had changed.


    ��Ahem, ahem����


    Through ayer of bead curtains, a violent coughing sound emanated from the bedroom.


    ��Father,�� Rhaegar called, his nerves tightening as he hurried into the room. The smell of herbal medicine became stronger, mixed with the pungent scent of incense.


    Viserys, sitting by the bed, looked pale and was gasping for breath. ��Rhaegar, you��re back,�� he said, his eyes scanning his eldest son for any injuries.


    Rhaegar poured a ss of warm water and handed it to his father. ��I��m fine. Have you been feeling unwelltely?��


    ��No, just a little sleepy sometimes,�� Viserys replied, his frustration showing. ��Daemon and Aemond are at each other��s throats, aren��t they?��


    Rhaegar remained silent, unable to meet his father��s gaze.


    ��I knew it! Those two bastards!�� Viserys''s anger red. ��One failed to assassinate his unborn cousin, and the other murdered his nephew��s fianc��e. They��re both monsters.��


    He paused, his frustration evident. ��Why don��t you just pour a ss of horse piss down their throats and choke them to death?��


    ��What do you think?�� Rhaegar asked, crossing his fingers and waiting patiently for an answer. He was too soft on his own flesh and blood, and he knew his father, a master of feigned ignorance, must have an idea.


    ��Rhaegar, you are the king now,�� Viserys said with a solemn expression. ��My reign has been less than a tenth as exciting as it could have been.��


    Hearing this, Rhaegar fellpletely silent. His father was no longer king. In other words, his thoughts no longer mattered.


    ��I���� Rhaegar began, as if contemting something profound.


    Viserys interrupted, exhorting him, ��Don��t do any kinying. They��re still loyal to you.��


    Rhaegar paused, his smile a littleplicated. ��Of course.��


    ��I��m sorry, my son,�� Viserys said, taking his eldest son��s hand with a hint of guilt. ��Don��t burden yourself with the blood of your loved ones. It will shake the peace of the Targaryens.��


    Once blood is spilled, it will only get worse. Rhaegar just smiled and promised, ��I understand. Even trash has value for reuse.��


    ...


    It was Dusk.


    A figure in a ck robe slipped out of the King''s Landing sewers and headed down the path to Flea Bottom. As the sky darkened, the man quickened his pace, blending into the shadows.


    Entering Flea Bottom, he searched for the brothel that stood out with its bright lights. Soon enough, a ragged orphan poked his head out and pointed to a three-story stone building.


    "Lord, the person you are looking for," the orphan said eagerly.


    Seeing the boy��s eager expression, Rhaegar tossed him a gold dragon coin. "Take it, and make sure no one robs you."


    Compared to years past, the environment in Flea Bottom had improved somewhat. Yet the presence of orphans remained as inevitable as the urine and feces on the streets.


    Rhaegar sighed and walked into the brothel.


    The lobby was chaotic, filled with naked bodies lounging like pale fish.


    "Guest," an old, faded madam approached, her eyes sharp and knowing.


    Rhaegar nced at her and whispered, "No need to serve me. I''m looking for Daemon."


    The madam hesitated for a moment before stepping aside. Rhaegar brushed past her and made his way up to the second floor, moving quickly as if chased by a dog.


    He had no choice. The madam was an acquaintance, in a way. His two younger brothers had been under her care for a time, and Aemond, in particr, had been quite taken with her.


    ...


    The Second Floor of the Brothel


    As soon as Rhaegar stepped onto the second floor, he saw a group of half-naked prostitutes clustered around a private room.


    "Oh... ha..." The sounds of coitus and heavy panting filled the air, making it impossible to ignore.


    Rhaegar''s face darkened slightly. He forced himself to endure the cheap perfume that permeated the air as he squeezed through the throng of prostitutes to reach the curtained doorway.


    Inside the room, Daemon was in the midst of his activities, naked and panting. As soon as Rhaegar entered, the prostitute enjoying herself was startled and screamed, quickly scrambling off the bed.


    Rhaegar was unprepared for the sight before him, and he suddenly felt dizzy.


    After a moment, Daemon, sweating profusely, sat on the windowsill and took a sip of wine. "You nevere to ces like this," he said sarcastically. "What, Rhaenyra won''t let you into bed?"


    Rhaegar walked to the bed, almost sitting down before thinking better of it. He lifted his buttocks and, hearing Daemon''s sarcasm, his eyes subtly changed. He smiled slightly. "Say it again, and I''ll rip out your tongue."


    Daemon was stunned, staring intently at his nephew''s changing expression. With a poker face, he said, "What did my brother tell you?"


    "He said I was the king," Rhaegar replied calmly. "There''s no need to worry about his feelings."


    Daemon''s heart skipped a beat as he pondered the meaning of the words. He recalled his heated argument with his brother half a month ago, which had been so loud that it could be heard halfway across the Red Keep. The usation of Cassandra''s murder and the fight with his one-eyed nephew had brought old tensions to the surface. Despite the intensity, there was a sense of nostalgia��it had been a long time since the brothers had fought like that, a twisted form of emotional exchange.


    "Daemon, I''ll give you two choices," Rhaegar interrupted his thoughts coldly. "Stay in King''s Landing and be the prince of the city again."


    Daemon''s face turned cold at the suggestion. How could he possibly agree to such a request?


    "Or," Rhaegar''s eyes shed darkly, "leave Westeros. Never return to the house, and never see any of its members again."


    "You want to banish me!?" Daemon''s veins throbbed with anger, feeling his bottom line being crossed.


    Rhaegar''s expression remained emotionless, allowing no room for rebuttal. "Are you staying or leaving?"


    He was not his father, and he had no intention of cleaning up Daemon''s messes. Since Daemon was so ambitious, it was better to let him go. With Laena and House Vryon in the mix, it would be difficult for him to stir up trouble.

 Chapter 561: Laena’s Pregnant!

    Chapter 561: Laena��s Pregnant!


    Late Night at Rhaenys''s Hill


    It iste at night. Rhaenys''s Hill is quiet, with only the faint sound of a nightingale.


    "Roar..."


    A scarlet dragon, serpentine in its movements, bursts out of the Dragonpit and ascends into the dark clouds above ckwater Bay. Suddenly, the Dragonpit is filled with the roars of dragons.


    ...


    A Balcony in the Red Keep


    Viserys, in his pajamas, leans against the railing and gazes up at the night sky. As he catches sight of the fleeting red dragon, his eyes fill with tears.


    Bang!


    A fist ms into the railing. "Daemon," Viserys mutters through clenched teeth, "why can''t you ever stop, even for a moment?"


    ...


    ver''s Bay, Meereen


    The two sides were in different locations as the sun had just set.


    "Roar..."


    A shrill roar echoed through the city as a brownish dragon flew out from behind the Great Pyramid.


    Inside the city, ves took off their shackles and joined the repair crew. Seeing the ugly mud dragon ascend into the sky, they instinctively panicked and ran.


    "Roar..."


    The Sheepstealer was smug, chewing on half a sheep with its blood-spitting mouth.


    "Hurry up, Sheepstealer!"


    Aemond''s face darkened as he swung his sword to cut the shackles on his wrists. The sound of nging filled the air as sparks flew in all directions.


    Who would have believed that a Prince like him would be locked up for half a month? If it weren''t for the guards'' negligence, he would still be spinning in circles in his cell.


    The Sheepstealer nced at Aemond and flew west with a satisfied look. Despite being locked up, Aemond had fared well. The dragon was given special sheep to eat daily, a luxurypared to sleeping in the open.


    ng!


    Aemond cut through the shackles and, looking in the direction,manded, "Fly east, let''s go to the Mother of Mountains!"


    The west was all Rhaegar''s territory. Heading east would lead them to the Dothraki cavalry, where Aemond hoped to reim some territory for himself.


    "Roar!"


    The Sheepstealer, initially reluctant, turned back towards the Great Lark Sea. Not long after taking off, Aemond''s single eye shed with determination, and he changed his mind again: "Fly west to the Disputed Lands!"


    "Roar?"


    The Sheepstealer groaned in displeasure but reluctantly turned around again. Aemond took a map out of his breast pocket, searching for the location of the nine Free Cities, pausing at the forest city marked in green.


    "Qohor was once part of ancient Valyria," Aemond muttered, his one eye flickering uncertainly. "I need a reliable army. The Dothraki cavalry alone is not enough."


    He couldn''t help but think of his Paramour, Lady Celtigar. He guessed that Daemon was behind the murder of his fianc��e Cassandra. First, he felt anger, then a surprising calm. Her death meant he no longer had to keep his promise to her.


    Creak, creak...


    Aemond clenched his fists and ground his teeth. "Just wait. No one can underestimate me."


    He vowed to build a Free City of his own. If Daemon could do it, so could he.


    ...


    Meereen, the Ruins


    Grey Worm was herding a flock of sheep when he heard the sound and looked up at the sky. He muttered, "They''ve really gone."


    Before Your Grace left, he had instructed to keep a close eye on them. For this reason, someone fed the Sheepstealer every day to ensure he was well-fed.


    "Roar~"


    The sheep ran into the ruins, and soon a faint dragon roar could be heard. Sunfyrey on the ground, his chest and belly scarred, his dragon head hanging low as he munched on the sheep. The wound was indeed very serious, preventing him from even spitting fire before eating.


    Grey Worm stayed away from the scene, ordering his subordinates, "Send more patrols. There''s only one dragon left in the city."


    The Sheepstealer was not imprisoned but was kept in Meereen as a deterrent. Now that the main deterrent was gone, the garrison must be strengthened. In particr, a seriously injured dragon lying in the ruins had weaker resistance than ever before.


    ...


    King''s Landing, Dragon Gate


    Time passed slowly...


    The road to the kingdom was smooth, except for the asional pothole, which made a loud ttering sound as the wheels rolled over it.


    "Hyah, Hyah!"


    A group of Knights of the Vale opened the way and escorted a convoy of vehicles. When the procession entered the city, the people saw the asky-blue falcon g carried by the Knights of the Vale. The people whispered that the king was holding a celebration.


    ver''s Bay had been conquered, and the hypocritical ve owners had repented and surrendered. The king returned victorious, not only to celebrate the victory but also to hold a wedding for his brother, who was injured in the war.


    The people were overjoyed. Whenever the royal family had a new addition, themon people in the city could get a share of food.


    ...


    Red Keep, Council Chamber


    Rhaegar sat at his desk, buried in paperwork. After two or three months of war, the pile of documents was as high as a floor.


    "A sky-blue falcon."


    Hena leaned against the window, staring intently at the gate of the Red Keep. She whispered, "Jeyne is here."


    Rhaegar: ...


    Swish, swish, swish...


    The quill pen moved, and only the sound of writing echoed.


    "Shall I go and meet her?" Hena asked, tilting her head.


    Maris of Storm''s End and Margaery of House Tyrell had already arrived in King''s Landing, both being received by Rhaenyra. But Jeyne...


    "No, Rhaenyra is not that petty," Rhaegar finally spoke, reluctantly reminding her, "Be careful, the floor is cold."


    "Oh, okay."


    Hena pursed her lips, got up from the floor, and patted her skirt. It was the middle of summer, and the weather was humid and sultry. Lys was even hotter, and she had ridden Dreamfyre back to King''s Landing.


    Rhaegar nced at her, his eyes lingering on her bulging belly. "How''s your appetitetely? Any difort?"


    Hena touched her belly and tried to remember, "It''s fine, except that I have nightmares."


    She was four months pregnant, and the fetus had entered a stable stage.


    "That''s good. Father is looking forward to this child."


    Rhaegar smiled warmly, thinking to himself, "I''ve brought Alicent back from Harrenhal."


    Hena''s eyshes trembled, and her hand that was stroking her stomach clenched into a fist.


    "Don''t worry, her main responsibility is to take care of Father," Rhaegar chuckled. "Aegon''s wedding ising up soon, and he can''t do without his mother."


    This was also Aegon''s secret request. Hena nodded vigorously, suddenly remembering something: "Daemon is gone. What about Aemond?"


    "They can''t go anywhere," Rhaegar shook his head and sighed. "Two stupid fools full of resentment."


    It is better to let them go than to hold them in your hands. Once he has the Dragon Horn, even dragon riders will be managed.


    Hena''s eyes wandered, and she lowered her head inexplicably, muttering to herself, "Red Dragon and Blue Dragon..."


    ...


    Across the Narrow Sea, Lys


    Caraxes glided low over the waves, the dragon''s tail slicing through the sea like a knife. Daemon''s hair was disheveled, his eyes shadowed with fatigue and the effects of heavy drinking.


    "Hurry up, Caraxes!" hemanded, his voice rough and weary.


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes let out a piercing cry and elerated toward the Free Cities, cutting through the air with renewed vigor.


    ...


    Topless Dragonpit


    Plop!


    Daemon jumped off Caraxes'' back and nearly fell to the ground.


    "Be careful," a voice called out from the shadows. Mysaria emerged from the dark corner, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and irritation.


    Daemon waved her off, catching his bnce. "Don''t worry about me. I''m not that fragile."


    Mysaria rolled her eyes but said nothing. "So, what are you doing back here?" she asked, cutting to the chase.


    "Just looking around," Daemon replied, his gaze shifting away. He didn''t want to admit that he had been expelled.


    "The war is over. It''s time for you to fulfill your promise," Mysaria insisted, her tone sharp. Her belly was noticeablyrger now, and she needed the security of a title.


    Daemon''s eyes flickered over her, taking in the swell of her pregnancy. "I will," he said, though his tone was perfunctory. He was stuck in King''s Landing as the prince of the city, unsure where else to go. Tyrosh was an option, but it was an empty pce filled with hostility.


    He suddenly realized both his wife and Mysaria were in Lys.


    "Forget it. It seems you don''t want to see me," Mysaria said, her voice heavy with disappointment. She turned away. "Go see your first wife. She needs you more than I do."


    Daemon was taken aback. "What do you mean?"


    Mysaria didn''t answer. She walked back toward the Topless Tower, her distrust evident.


    "Heh," Daemon chuckled bitterly.


    He stared at the entrance to the Dragonpit for a while before finally climbing back onto Caraxes'' back. "Let''s go, Caraxes!"


    Daemon was in a foul mood, craving solitude.


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes obeyed, soaring into the sky and disappearing over Lys.


    As soon as Daemon left, a graceful figure emerged from the depths of the Dragonpit.


    Roar!


    Vhagar slowly climbed out, its pupils cold and emotionless, its body radiating a murderous aura.


    "Quiet, Vhagar," Laenamanded, her expression conflicted as she watched the scarlet dragon fade from view.


    She had heard many things and was prepared tofort her husband, but as always, he chose to bear his burdens alone.


    "Daemon," Laena murmured, touching her slightly swollen belly under the blue skirt.


    "Roar!"


    Vhagar''s imposing presence softened, its head lowering as it gazed at its rider with a hint of concern in its eyes.


    "I''m fine," Laena reassured, though she couldn''t hide her disappointment. She reached out to stroke Vhagar''s wing.


    Vhagar blinked slowly, bowing its head in silent understanding.


    Laena leaned her forehead against Vhagar''s rough scales. "Only you have always been with me," she whispered.


    Vhagar gently shook its head, offering silentfort.

 Chapter 562: It’s Over! They’re All Coming for my Children!

    Chapter 562: It��s Over! They��re All Coming for my Children!


    King''s Landing, Red Keep.


    Rhaegar woke early and made his way to the throne room, his eyes still half-closed. Today, he would summon his advisers to discuss the uing celebrations and his wedding.


    "Your Grace."


    As soon as he stepped out of his chambers, Erryk and Tormund followed him. Rhaegar, surprised, asked, "What brings my Kingsguard captain and Master of Whisperers together?"


    These two rarely mingled, each being dedicated to their distinct roles.


    "Your Grace, it''s like this..." Erryk began hurriedly, ncing at Tormund.


    Tormund, maintaining his friendly demeanor, said, "You go first, I''m in no hurry."


    Rhaegar licked his lips, sensing trouble. "Your Grace, it''s about the deployment of the Kingsguard brothers," Erryk said, pacing steadily and speaking in a serious tone. "There are seven Kingsguard in total. Excluding me, the five Princes each have one, leaving us short on manpower."


    "Uh..." Rhaegar hesitated. Apart from Visenya, who was still a baby, his five children were free to move around. Ser Arryk had been assigned to Baelon as his overseer and trainer.


    Ser Lorent had been transferred from Rhaenyra''s side to protect Aemon. Ser Steffon had crossed the Narrow Sea to Vntis to protect Maekar. The remaining children, Daenerys and Lyanna, still had no personal guards.


    "With so many children, there aren''t enough resources to go around," Rhaegar said with some distress. "Can the three of them spare some time?"


    Jeyne had arrived in King''s Landing the previous day with her eldest daughter Dany and herpanions Jessamyn and Skr. All three sons had Kingsguard protection; it would be unfair to treat the daughters differently.


    Erryk shook his head helplessly. "Cole is still recovering from his wounds, and the other two are assisting with patrols at the Red Keep. Besides, the workload of the Kingsguard is very heavy and varied."


    "Can''t Cole be reassigned?" Rhaegar asked, still hoping for the best from the former Kingsguard Commander. It wasn''t unreasonable to have one Kingsguard protecting two daughters.


    "I''m afraid that won''t work," Erryk said, looking troubled.


    Tormund, recognizing the need for timely intervention, spoke up. "Your Grace, this is also one of the pieces of information I wanted to report."


    "Tell me," Rhaegar stopped in his tracks, contemting the potential problems that persisted even after the war.


    Tormund smiled shyly. "ording to a report from Myr, Prince Aemond took Otto Hightower captive on his dragon and sent him to w Isle to propose marriage."


    "Otto, that old fox?" Rhaegar thought he had heard wrong.


    Tormund shrugged. "Yes, him. He''s served on a dozen farms over the past six years, barely visible to anyone."


    Otto had worked hard for six years, his hair almostpletely white. "A cunning old fox, but unfortunately toothless," Rhaegar pondered. "Aemon is proposing to w Isle. Does Lord Celtigar have a cousin''s daughter to marry?"


    Thete Lord Bartimos Celtigar had only one son and one daughter. At best, he had a nephew who had been raised as a child. Rhaegar had never heard of a girl of marriageable age.


    "Your Grace, this is a ratherplicated matter," Tormund said, a strange look in his eyes. "Prince Aemond has his eye on Lady Celtigar, the widow of Ser Laenor."


    Rhaegar was stunned.


    Tormund continued, "Otto sent a raven this morning on behalf of Prince Aemond, asking the royal family to approve the marriage and send someone to the ceremony."


    Erryk quickly added, "The message said that Prince Aemond wants to develop overseas and has asked for Cole''s help as a tutor."


    Rhaegar thought for a long time before shaking his head andughing. "Aemon wants to marry a widow and has also won over Cole." He paused, reflecting on the situation. "It''s not that widows are unsuitable, but Laenor''s preferences were so well-known that it was widely believed Celine was still a virgin. Marrying Celtigar''s daughter, Vryon''s widowed daughter-inw, is both chaotic and brilliant."


    The key was Cole. He had taught Aemond the ruthless swordsmanship for many years, and it seemed the two frustrated men had foundmon ground.


    Erryk, nervous, said, "Your Grace, I can guarantee the loyalty of every Kingsguard brother. Cole will never betray you."


    "The white cloak is a badge of honor that must never be tarnished."


    "It''s all right. Cole hasn''t had an easy life these past few years," Rhaegar smiled. Since his early days, Cole had first defeated the Cargyll brothers in a tournament, crushed Harwin''s corbone, and won the favor of Rhaenyra.


    After the death of the previous Kingsguard captain, Harrold, he was elected the new captain at a young age. He was demoted to an ordinary guard after making a mistake with Tnd on the Stepstones.


    He fought his way through a crowd ofpetitors at the Gods Eye tournament and was promoted to Kingsguard again. During the war in Dorne, Cole did not receive any credit, but he did his fair share of the work. After the war, he continued to teach Aemond how to fight. His life had been full of ups and downs, and as the son of a steward, he was often mocked by many nobles, both openly and secretly.


    Tormund, always watching the king''s expressions, asked, "Does Your Grace epts Prince Aemond''s request in full?"


    It''s a big request��a self-arranged wedding and a Kingsguard who has seen a hundred battles.


    Rhaegar did not answer immediately, weighing the situation. "What is Aemond up to?" he wondered aloud. The boy was arrogant and proud, not one to be left to his own devices.


    "As you would expect, Your Grace," Tormund replied, pulling a letter from his white sleeve. "After leaving Meereen, Prince Aemond not only found Otto Hightower, but also recalled the Dothraki cavalry and ordered the tribe to migrate to the Forest of Qohor."


    "Qohor," Rhaegar muttered, his eyes shing. Qohor was a closed and rigid city-state, ranking in the middle and lower reaches of the nine Free Cities. Its only two distinguishing features were its mountainous ind location and its high level of craftsmanship.


    "An arms dealer who is used to making a fortune from war," Rhaegar smiled yfully.


    Erryk and Tormund stepped back, waiting respectfully for the next part of the conversation.


    "It''s not urgent to send the Kingsguard to the Princess," Rhaegar decided after a moment of thought. "I will not interfere with Aemond''s marriage. Ask Cole if he wants to go."


    "Your Grace!" Erryk was shocked. He did not want to lose a Kingsguard brother.


    "No need to say more," Rhaegar waved his hand to interrupt, frowning. "Ask Cole if he wants to go. By the way, he can represent the royal family at the wedding."


    A Kingsguard who is not concerned about the royal family and is deeply utilitarian makes the white robe seem particrly heavy. It is better to let him go than to keep him around. This decision could also serve to urge Aemond.


    "Then that''s it," Tormund said, never one to procrastinate, and left after following orders.


    Rhaegar then looked at Erryk. Erryk had no intention of giving up any of his Kingsguard brothers, but he could not resist theplexity of human hearts. Reluctantly, he agreed. "Yes, Your Grace."


    The Throne Room


    The empty hall was dark, with the Dragonstone floors glistening in the dim light. The Small Council advisers stood on the left, while the nobles and princes stood on the right. All eyes were fixed on the Iron Throne, a symbol of both majesty and loneliness.


    The Iron Throne had been recast, its forest of swords melted down to form a majestic, towering seat of steel. With a loud boom, the doors slowly opened, and Erryk stepped forward, his expression solemn:


    "Wee, Rhaegar I of the Targaryens, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, Lord of the Narrow Sea, Lord of the Disputed Lands, Liberator of the ves, and Dragon Shepherd!"


    Apuse crackled through the hall as the advisers turned to show their admiration. Between the grand doors, Rhaegar entered, wearing the ck crown of the conqueror. His tall figure was straight, his cold face expressionless. The nobles and aristocrats exchanged nces, lowering their heads whenever they met the king''s sharp gaze.


    Rhaegar ascended the 18-foot-high steps and turned to sit on the cold Iron Throne. The seat was square with a wide, high back, and at its center was the emblem of a three-headed red dragon, with three dragons winding around the edges. It symbolized the three dragons of the Targaryen dynasty: Balerion, Meraxes, and Vhagar.


    "My lords, the celebration is about to begin!" Rhaegar announced, leaning back and resting his hands on the dragon-shaped armrests. "Many havee a long way to be our guests." He stroked the dragon''s head with his palm, the armrests modeled after the Bronze Fury and Silverwing, tomemorate King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne.


    The advisers looked up at the Iron Throne, high above them, and offered their thanks. Compared to its previous dangerous appearance, the Iron Throne now exuded a majestic and solemn aura. A nce from afar was enough to inspire awe.


    Next, the king''s advisers took turns reporting on the affairs of state that had fallen behind during the war. These were trivial matters, but it was how they demonstrated their presence. Rhaegar''s face remained expressionless, but his heart grew bored.


    "Your Grace," a female voice called out after a long time. A figure stepped out of the crowd. Rhaegar turned to see Maris, well-made up and wearing a magnificent dress. She bowed respectfully. After her older sister Cassandra''s death, she had be the undisputed Lady of Storm''s End. In just two months, her situation had changed dramatically. She was in the prime of her life.


    When Rhaegar saw her, he immediately thought of the people investigating Cassandra''s death. He said politely, "Lady Maris, I am truly sorry for your sister''s death."


    "Thank you. My sister died without suffering," Maris smiled, then changed the subject. "Your Grace, my sister was engaged to Prince Aemon. This was a marriage between the royal family and House Baratheon. I hope it can continue."


    She spoke calmly and directly. Rhaegar frowned slightly, suspecting Cassandra''s death was connected to Maris and realizing just how ruthless she could be.


    "I heard that your sister had found a husband for you before she died?" Rhaegar nced at Maris, feigning confusion.


    "Yes," Maris admitted, stating her purpose. "But I am not yet betrothed." With her sister''s death, she intended to take her ce.


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed with understanding. "No wonder she hurried to King''s Landing. She couldn''t bear to give up the marriage," he thought. ording to the agreement between their families, the firstborn would bear the Baratheon name. Per the Targaryenws, Aemond''s direct descendants would have the right to ride dragons. Even one dragon rider would ensure the prosperity of House Baratheon for decades.


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the two other women in the hall.


    As the Lady of the Eyrie, Jeyne stood like a proud eagle, leading her eldest daughter Daenerys and her second daughter Lyanna, representing the Vale faction. She noticed his gaze and nodded slightly.


    Next to her was Margaery Tyrell, representing Highgarden and House Peake. In her early twenties, Margaery was in the prime of her beauty. She wore a light green dress that hugged her figure, her brown hair ited and hanging down her chest, her eyes as bright as a fawn''s. Margaery smiled, holding the hand of a young boy.


    Rhaegar nced at her and then looked away. Margaery''s reputation was that of a beauty with little substance. Her stepmother had recently given birth to a son named Lyonel Tyrell, the worried-looking boy at her side.


    This powerful woman had quickly arranged a marriage for Margaery with the Lord of Rowan. However, Margaery was not one to be easily controlled. Under the pretext of offering condolences, she traveled to the Dornish Marches, where she "happened" to meet the then Lord of Peake.


    After Unwin Peake''s death, his title andnds were inherited by his cousin, Lord Roman Peake. Roman fell in love with the "kind-hearted" Margaery at first sight and vowed to marry her. Margaery, in search of a suitable husband, found a perfect match in him, and the two hit it off immediately.


    Then...


    On the night of the wedding, Roman was drunk and died in the bridal chamber. Margaery became a widow and inherited not only her husband''s fortune but also the three castles of House Peake. But the story didn''t end there. Within six months, her stepmother died unexpectedly while embroidering in the middle of the night.


    Margaery volunteered to move from Starpike to Highgarden to care for her infant brother, Lyonel, as Regent. She cared for him for six years. Feeling Rhaegar''s gaze, Margaery smiled even wider and patted her brother''s hand. "Little Lyonel, talk to the two Princesses more often," she said with a kind smile directed at Jeyne, who stood nearby.


    Jeyne frowned slightly but remained silent.


    "Sister," Lyonel Tyrell clung to his sister''s hand, too scared to move.


    "Don''t be afraid, the Princesses are lovely girls," Margaery said gently. Little Lyonel looked timidly up at the two girls.


    "Hmph, I''m not ying with you," Lyanna said, rolling her eyes and turning her head away in disgust. Daenerys, listless, leaned on her mother''sp, paying no attention to the exchange.


    Rhaegar, with his keen senses, heard Margaery''s whisper and was suddenly very confused. No wonder she was eagerly heading to King''s Landing.


    She is greedy for his daughter. For six years she had behaved like one, so she really thought she was a Lady Regent.


    Before he could respond, Maris continued, "The marriage was arranged by King Viserys and my mother, hoping the two houses would work together."


    Rhaegar smiled, but his eyes remained cold. "I''m sorry, but Lady Cassandra has passed away, and Aemond has already chosen a new bride. He cannot fulfill the marriage contract."


    "When?" Maris asked in surprise. Her sister had just died, and the coffin had not yet been buried.


    Rhaegar feigned regret: "It is a marriage with House Celtigar, and I was informed of this not long ago."


    He thought, ''One is a bad woman, and the other is even worse. Cassandra was foolish but not evil,cking the capacity for it. Maris, though not beautiful, was cunning and unsuitable for marriage into the royal family.''


    Hearing that Aemond had already been promised in marriage, Maris'' breathing became heavier, and she gritted her teeth. "Your Grace, I sincerely hope that the marriage between our two houses can bepleted."


    "There is no suitable candidate," Rhaegar spread his hands and smiled. "All three of my brothers are already betrothed."


    Aegon was married, twice. Aemond was a widowed man. Even the youngest, Daeron, had a betrothal arranged with Rhaena. There was nothing they could do about it.


    At this point, footsteps echoed from the side of the hall. Rhaenyra walked gracefully forward, holding Visenya in her arms, surrounded by Baelon, Aemon, and the sisters Ba and Rhaena. The council was taking a long time to finish, so she hade to see what was going on.


    Maris looked over at the sound and her eyes fell on Baelon, who resembled Rhaegar. She was delighted. "Your Grace, the royal family is not without a male heir."

 Chapter 563: Baelon Marriage

    Chapter 563: Baelon Marriage


    It wasmon knowledge in the Seven Kingdoms that the Dragonlord had twin sons who looked exactly alike. As the heir to the Iron Throne, the eldest son, Baelon, was a carbon copy of his father in every way. He was praised and favored by the nobles and advisers. Maris, however, had a discerning eye and immediately took a liking to the younger brother, recognizing his unlimited potential.


    "Who are you talking about?" Rhaegar was shocked and sat up straight on the Iron Throne. Apart from his brothers, his sons were the only ones in the royal family.


    Maris, enthusiastic and with sparkling eyes, looked at Baelon and said bluntly, "Your Grace, you have two other young princes."


    Rhaegar''s eyelids twitched, and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He looked in the direction of her gaze and saw his eldest son, who appeared confused. Baelon walked ahead, clearing a path for his mother and brother, his purple eyes surveying the advisers. He waspletely unaware that he had been targeted by the cunning woman.


    "Lady Maris, the royal family is grateful for your love, but the two young princes are much younger than you," said Hand of the King Lyonel, stepping forward with sharp words to reject her.


    Rhaegar blinked and barely recovered from the shock. He looked at the in Maris repeatedly, thinking, ''How dare you? Baelon is only six years old and the natural heir to the Iron Throne. How dare you try to marry him as an old woman?''


    Rhaenyra, who had just arrived, was also surprised. Her almond-shaped eyes widened, never imagining that a woman would be so bold as to ask for the hand of a young prince in public. Even when Rhaegar was a sweet and lovable boy, he didn''t get seduced by Jeyne until he was 13.


    "Ahem," Rhaenyra coughed twice to remind them, quickening the pace of the two pairs of twins.


    Maris stared at her, immediately forming a rebuttal in her mind: ''Lyonel, you''re wrong.''


    "The two princes are still underage, and it''s not suitable for them to get married," Lyonel continued, standing loyally in front of the king.


    Rhaegar looked at him with admiration but worried that he might not be able to refuse Maris too bluntly.


    At that moment, Lyonel''s bloated figure seemed like a heavy shield. Maris smiled and said, "I''m not in a hurry. I can wait until the Prince grows up." Then, with a nce at Rhaenyra and Jeyne, she boldly continued, "Your Grace and the Queen are eight years apart in age, and there is an even greater age difference between you and Lady Jeyne."


    Jeyne''s face darkened, and she red at Maris. ''You''re just bringing up the wrong things, aren''t you?'' Maris pretended not to notice and said with righteous indignation, "I am the same age as Prince Aemond, and I''m not yet old and faded."


    In the Four Storms, thete Cassandra was 19 years old, and her three younger sisters were all younger than her. Maris, the second oldest, was under 16 years old, making her 10 years younger than Baelon. Her words were straightforward, and her goal was clear.


    Rhaegar''s brow furrowed into a knot. He didn''t need Lyonel to refute her words; he said bluntly, "Lady Maris, marriage is based on mutual affection. Please pay more attention to the Knights of the Seven Kingdoms, not the heirs of the Iron Throne." ''She really wants to marry an old woman. Impossible, absolutely impossible.''


    "Your Grace..." Maris''s brain seemed seized by a cramp, and she still wanted to continue her argument.


    "Lady Maris, you seem drunk." Before she could finish her sentence, Rhaenyra waved her hand to interrupt and called for the guards. "Take Lady Maris back to rest. If she speaks any longer, the people of King''s Landing will have another topic of conversation."


    "Yes, Your Grace." The two guards, expressionless, escorted Maris away on either side. Maris looked aggrieved, the tender grass on her lips having flown. As she opened her mouth to protest, she met thebined gaze of Rhaenyra and Jeyne. For a woman, age is a serious disadvantage. Maris had been indiscreet, naming names in front of the royal advisers.


    "Pfft!" Margaery, who had been silent until now, couldn''t help butugh. She slumped her shoulders slightly, trying to maintain her dignified and elegant bearing. Maris was smarter than her sister Cassandra, but her intelligence was still limited.


    She was used to being clever and couldn''t control herself��a typical example of a failure in the education of the second daughter.


    Rhaegar watched as Maris was dragged away, feeling a great sense of satisfaction. ''If she couldn''t get his father, she would get his son. This woman must be stopped!''


    "Baelon,e to me," Rhaegar said with a serious expression.


    "Coming, Father." Baelon let out a sigh of relief and quickly climbed onto the Iron Throne. Rhaegar didn''t say much but kept his eldest son by his side and listened to his advice, thereby raising his son''s status. Baelon was smart enough to stand by his father''s side. The two of them were inplete agreement. Heirs should act like heirs. The advisers looked at each other, and it was hard to miss the king''s meaning. Even the most calcting opportunist knew that Baelon''s position was unshakeable. After a short silence, the atmosphere returned to its lively state.


    Before the other Lords could speak, Jeyne suddenly said, "Your Grace, King Viserys promised to restore Dany''s family name. I would like to discuss this in detail."


    Wow! The entire audience was shocked and fell silent. Lyonel was stunned, his eyes darting between Rhaenyra and Jeyne, unsure whether to intervene. The issue of the right to a family name had caused a great deal ofmotion. The Crownds and the nobles of the Vale knew there was bad blood in the king''s court. There was a hint of a repeat of the old days of the cks and Greens.


    Facing the subtle stares of the advisers, Rhaegar smiled and said, "Daenerys is my eldest daughter. The right to the family name is yours to decide." After that, he nced at Rhaenyra, who was sitting next to him. Rhaenyra looked up at him, rolled her eyes, and nodded in tacit agreement. This was what she had promised, so, of course, she would not go back on her word.


    Aemon stood by his mother''s side, forming a human wall with his sister Ba. Rhaenyra rubbed their heads one by one, proudly raising her chin. With so many children, she could easily form a dragon knight corps. Jeyne saw this scene and frowned slightly. But if you are not as good as others, there is nothing to be jealous of.


    Jeyne led her two daughters forward and got down to business: "Daenerys, is a Princess of the Seven Kingdoms and should be given the Targaryen name."


    Rhaegar nodded to himself. Then he heard Jeyne continue, "When Daenerys inherits The Eyrie, she should take the name of House Arryn. In any case, the Vale must be ruled by House Arryn."


    "No problem," Rhaegar was prepared for this and said sincerely, "We will hold the ceremony to give Daenerys her new name the day after tomorrow, before her uncle''s wedding." It was a sure-fire deal to have his daughter inherit The Eyrie. When the next generation grew up, the authority of a Warden would be weakened, and it would be beneficial to control the Vale beforehand.


    Jeyne smiled, stroked her eldest daughter''s silky silver hair, and whispered, "Daenerys, go to your father and let everyone see you."


    Daenerys''s pale face showed surprise, and she hesitated, "But..."


    "He will take care of you." Jeyne''s expression was solemn, giving her eldest daughter enough confidence. Daenerys was torn, not knowing whether to listen to her mother.


    Their conversation was not deliberately lowered, and everyone present could hear it. Rhaegar propped his chin in his hand, waiting for his daughter''s decision. He loved all his children equally, but his position forced him to favor some over others. Yet, he could not deny that he wanted to know them better. Did his eldest daughter, who appeared to be a pale, fragile little girl, have the same courage as her father and brother?


    "Mother," Daenerys said nervously, feeling the stares around her, and bit her lip. "I want to take Anna with me." Lyanna''s spirit suddenly lifted, and she raised her hand. She wanted to go, and that iron chair looked very powerful.


    Jeyne''s eyes shed, and she looked silently at Rhaenyra, who was staring at her, and then at Rhaegar on the Iron Throne. She had a thousand words to say, but she only said one thing: "Take good care of Anna."


    Daenerys''s pretty face broke into a smile, and she nodded firmly: "Yes." She lifted her skirt with one hand and took Lyanna by the hand with the other, moving her little feet like a flying bird. Jeyne watched the two girls as they ran up to the Iron Throne and looked defiantly at someone. Rhaenyra''s face turned slightly dark, but she managed to hold back her temper.


    "Father." Daenerys ran up with a flushed face and threw herself into her father''s arms like a swallow returning to its nest.


    "Come, my little Princess." Rhaegar smiled broadly, picked up his daughter, and ced her on hisp. "You have a family name now," he said happily. He knew that his bloodline would not disappoint. Daenerys looked weak, but she was actually gentle and strong-willed.


    "I want one too! You left me behind," Lyanna puffed up her cheeks and held out her two little hands.


    "Okay, little one," Rhaegar joked, holding each of his daughters in one arm.


    Baelon stood aside, scratching his head. His father had never held him like that. Rhaegar didn''t even look at him. Boys had to be strong.


    "Father." Baelon''s eyes were unusual as he tugged at his father''s sleeve. Rhaegar looked down in surprise, receiving a serious look from his eldest son.


    ncing around, he saw Jeyne and Rhaenyra staring at each other from a distance, sparks practically flying from their eyes. Several of the royal advisers were standing in the way, leaning back silently. Lyman, old and weary, bowed his head like a chastened child.


    Rhaegar pursed his lips, suddenly unsure whether to feel sorry for the advisers or for himself. The two women were locked in a battle, and in the end, it was he who would suffer.


    "s," Baelon sighed for his father, like a little lord. Although still young, he understood a lot. Otherwise, he would not have given the dragon egg to Daenerys. It was just a coincidence that the dragon egg hatched in Anna''s hands.


    Rhaegar raised his eyebrows, noticing the sad look on his eldest son''s face. The resemnce to his own young self was striking. ''Who was the first to suggest that Rhaenyra and I follow the traditions of the House?'' he wondered, memories flooding back.


    Rhaegar''s eyes fell on Lyonel as he raised his hand to his mouth and coughed lightly. "Ahem!" The sound echoed through the hall, drawing attention. Lyonel turned his head, looking at the king with a questioning gaze.


    Rhaegar had a sh of inspiration and nodded slightly towards Baelon and Daenerys in his arms.


    "Hmm?" Lyonel was puzzled at first but then suddenly understood. "Your Grace, Lady Maris is speaking nonsense, but Prince Baelon is the heir and should be considered for marriage in advance."


    Rhaegar''s lips curled slightly.


    No fool can be the Hand of the King, and Lyonel is no exception.


    Jasper looked up in surprise. "Prince Baelon is only six years old. Who is he to be engaged to?"


    Tormund smiled, understanding the cue. "ording to Targaryen tradition, the heir should be chosen from within the royal family."


    Lyman and Orwyle, slower to react, nodded in agreement. The topic of choosing an engagement partner for the heir struck a nerve with the nobles. The advisers began to consider it when the Master of Whisperers suggested following tradition.


    However, some were determined to win. The Sea Snake straightened his back and, with his usual solemn expression, said, "Your Grace, Lady Ba is of both Targaryen and Vryon blood and has grown up with Prince Baelon."

 Chapter 564: Either One or Both

    Chapter 564: Either One or Both


    "I can''t think of a better candidate, whether in terms of blood or affection," the Sea Snake puffed out his chest, as if it were only natural.


    "Ba?" Rhaegar frowned imperceptibly, unconvinced. Ba was born into a privileged family. Not only was she Rhaenyra''s adopted daughter, but she was also Daemon''s designated heir. It was clear that Ba would be the next Princess of Tyrosh. It is worth noting that Rhaenyra''s title of Queen of Lys was unique. Referring to the system of male Princes and female Princesses in Dorne, the other Princes and Princesses were crowned with corresponding titles, avoiding the coexistence of a king and queen.


    Upon hearing the Sea Snake''s rmendation, Rhaenyra clenched her teeth but was the first to support it: "Ba was raised by me and will be a good wife in the future."


    Ba suddenly looked up, ttered, and pointed at herself. She wasn''t ready for this.


    "Hee hee." Rhaena snickered and nudged her sister with her shoulder. Baelon and Aemon were like brothers to both sisters and would certainly be blessed by following the traditions of the house.


    Ba''s face fell. She was not happy. The feeling of not being in control of her marriage was as bad as being ignored by her father. Rhaegar was also displeased and declined politely, "Lord Corlys, Ba''s future is in Tyrosh."


    Baelon tilted his head, looking around, wondering if his future was being arranged already.


    "Your Grace, isn''t this better?" The Sea Snake frowned and said bluntly, "Daemon is the direct descendant of the brave Baelon, just like your father. The two bloodlinesbined will help unite the royal family." Daemon had always been a problem as a wanderer. By starting with his heir, Tyrosh would remain part of the Iron Throne in the future. Besides, Ba is his granddaughter. Laena''s failure to marry Viserys had weakened House Vryon''s influence on the Iron Throne. It is undeniable that House Vryon was very powerful at the time, and there was suspicion that the advisers were suppressing the king. Now that the royal family is in the spotlight, it is time to embrace House Vryon again.


    Rhaegar narrowed his eyes and still refused, "Ba is also my adopted daughter, and I have someone else in mind for her marriage." As he spoke, he rubbed the heads of his two daughters and gently held them in his arms. Advisers have their considerations, and kings have their visions. Ba is not suitable for Baelon.


    As soon as he finished speaking, the Sea Snake''s face froze, and a hint of anger rose. Rhaenyra was quicker than him and said doubtfully, "Rhaegar, Ba is my foster daughter. How could she not be suitable?" In terms of upbringing alone, she was confident that Ba, whom she had taken care of herself, was not inferior to anyone.


    Ba was also stunned, looking at her foster father and cousin with mixed feelings.


    "She is not suitable," Rhaegar dered, looking Rhaenyra in the eyes with solemnity. "As the Queen, you should support me unconditionally."


    Rhaenyra was stunned, not expecting Rhaegar to be so serious. Even his tone was unusually strict.


    Rhaegar then turned his gaze to the Sea Snake. "Ba''s excellence cannot be questioned. I will seriously consider her."


    The Sea Snake''s face darkened, not from his naturalplexion, but from the anger burning inside him. He believed he had been loyal enough to the royal family, having nearly lost his life in the blockade of Vntis and during the war in ver''s Bay. Wasn''t that enough merit?


    "Haha, what a joke!" The Sea Snake sneered, pointing angrily at Rhaegar on the Iron Throne. "I, the most honorable Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and the most loyal supporter of the royal family��are my bloodline and loyalty not worthy of the throne?"


    "Lord Corlys!" Rhaegar''s face instantly turned cold. "I said I would seriously consider it."


    Corlys wanted to pressure him, but he couldn''t. If advisers could demand something in return for their services, the throne would be unstable. Even House Vryon at its peak would not have been spared his wrath.


    "Hmph!" The Sea Snake snorted in contempt. "You, like your father, is filled with fear."


    He wanted to use Rhaegar of being as weak as Viserys, afraid to marry Vryon''s daughter. But his body shook violently, and he restrained himself, leaving a margin of leeway.


    Rhaegar, now calmer, said, "Sea Snake, take back what you said, or you will never speak again."


    "You..." The Sea Snake was furious and ready to curse.


    Rhaenyra stepped forward, standing between them. "Lord Corlys'' words were inappropriate. I will have him apologize to you." After a pause, she added, "But as he said, I can''t think of a better match for Baelon than Ba."


    Rhaegar, facing Rhaenyra''s questioning, frowned and signaled Lyonel, who promptly asked, "Your Grace, if you don''t think Lady Ba is suitable, do you have someone in mind?"


    When the Queen sided with the Sea Snake, the dynamic shifted. It was no longer just a disagreement between the king and his adviser.


    "Yes!" Rhaegar ignored the questioning looks of Rhaenyra and the Sea Snake. He nudged Baelon with his foot. "Don''t just stand there, look back."


    "Father?" Baelon was confused.


    Rhaegar patted his two daughters and smiled kindly. "What do you think of your two sisters?"


    "Huh?" Baelon was stunned.


    "Speak up!" Rhaegar demanded.


    "I..." Baelon hesitated but, seeing the intensity in his father''s eyes, he swallowed and said, "I think it''s good."


    Relieved, Baelon felt as if a mountain had been lifted from his shoulders.


    "Very good." Rhaegar put down his daughters and revealed his fatherly kindness. "Between the two sisters, you can choose one or both."


    "Is that okay?" Baelon asked, uneasy.


    "Of course," Rhaegar said with certainty. "The Conqueror married his sisters."


    As he spoke, his eyes swept over Rhaenyra and Jeyne, noting their shock. Rhaegar smiled and continued, "Baelon, you are my eldest son, and I haven''t demanded much from you."


    Baelon��s eyes narrowed, his face showing signs of contemtion.


    "But you are the heir to the Iron Throne," Rhaegar went on, "and with thates certain responsibilities. Do you understand?" His eyes were filled with encouragement and hope.


    Baelon first looked at his mother and Lady Jeyne under the Iron Throne, then at his two stunned half-sisters in front of him. After a brief moment of reflection, he seemed to understand.


    After just three seconds, Baelon smiled and whispered, "Father, I will listen to you."


    Rhaegar smiled back and asked softly, "So, have you made your choice?"


    Daenerys and Lyanna looked at each other, their little heads full of question marks, and huddled nervously together.


    Baelon nced back at his mother''s displeased expression and said wisely, "I admire the Conqueror. He founded the Targaryen dynasty."


    "Oh?" Rhaegar''s lips curled. He hadn''t expected his seemingly obedient son to be so perceptive.


    Baelon scratched his head and continued seriously, "I also admire my father. Your achievements are no less than the Conqueror''s. You married my mother, and Dany and Anna''s mother."


    At this point, Baelon hesitated for a couple of seconds, then walked over and took the hands of the two little girls. Looking at Jeyne below, he said, "Lady Jeyne is the Lady of The Eyrie. The two girls she raised will surely make me the man that everyone in the Seven Kingdoms envies."


    Daenerys and Lyanna: ...


    The sisters turned to their father for help, but all they saw was a satisfied expression.


    "Well said!" Rhaegar apuded with both hands, his joy evident. He nced down at the princes and advisers, his eyes full of disdain. All these men in the hall were no match for a young son who knew what was right.


    The king''s many wives were potential threats to the unity of the house. By marrying Jeyne''s two daughters, Baelon could minimize the potential threat of a split in the family. Neither Rhaenyra nor Jeyne would be able to influence their children any more. By marrying Dany and Anna, Baelon would win over the supporters of both mothers. Even if Rhaenyra and Jeyne wanted to fight each other, in the end, the power would go to the new generation. The supporters of both sides were not fools, and they could see the future trend.


    Rhaegar was happy, but not everyone shared his sentiment. The Sea Snake red at Daenerys and Lyanna, his eyes bulging with rage. Why couldn''t Ba be given a ce at the wedding? Even if she was second in line to the throne, it would be a sign of the two houses'' shared glory.


    Rhaegar couldn''t help but smile as he took the two little girls from Baelon''s arms. The choice of a wife for his eldest son was not something to be shared lightly. Dany and Anna, being sisters, were both eligible to inherit the nobility of the Vale from Jeyne. If the sisters were separated, the nobles of the Vale could choose to follow one or the other. Otherwise, why would Rhaegar bother to ask the eldest son if he wanted one or both?


    Baelon watched his two sisters snuggle up in his father''s arms, his mouth twitching slightly. He was very clever, but he was also jealous. He wasn��t the only one feeling this way. Rhaenyra clenched her lower lip and stared at Rhaegar. Deep down, she didn��t want her son to marry Jeyne��s daughter. Jeyne was her humiliation!


    Rhaegar nced at her, but his mind was made up.


    Ba was indeed a good choice, and both Rhaenyra and the Sea Snake were correct in their assessment. However, her background was tooplicated. To be fair, Houses Daemon and Vryon were both worthy of being courted, but the royal family could suppress both of them for the time being, ensuring their future strength.


    Thus, the focus should be on the present. Ba naturally had the support of Daemon and House Vryon, and she was a staunch supporter of Rhaenyra. If Baelon were to marry her, his power would grow to unprecedented levels. But even without marrying Ba, he would still retain all of these rights.


    On the other hand, if Ba married Baelon, it would indirectly intensify the conflict between Rhaenyra and Jeyne. In that case, why not have Baelon marry Dany and Anna? This would stabilize the bnce of power within the House in the short term and win the loyalty of the Vale in the long term.


    As for Ba''s partner, there was another consideration. Rhaegar''s eyes were deep as he muttered to himself, "The political mistakes my father made should not be repeated with my children." He had put in much effort to win over his half-siblings. Hena had been close to him since childhood, but it was hard to say that their rtionship wasn''t tainted by self-interest. By marrying Hena, Aegon and Aemond, and Daeron and the others would always remain loyal to him. Even if Alicent was confined in Harrenhal, House Hightower fell from power, and Aemond was exiled, Aegon and the others would ept it calmly, trusting their brother.


    "Rhaegar." Rhaenyra''s face was grim. After a long hesitation, she turned and left. She and her brother would discuss the matter in private.


    "Your Grace." Ba called softly and quickly caught up with her.


    "Hmph!" The Sea Snake''s face was ugly as he stormed away. Rhaegar saw this but didn''t bother to stop him. They only cared about immediate gains and losses and didn''t consider long-term stability. He was the king, and he had to be careful with every step he took. No one in the council dared to speak up after this.


    Rhaegar looked around and patted his two daughters on the head, coaxing them, "How about going to y with your brother for a while?"


    "Okay~" Dany timidly nced at Baelon and agreed.


    Anna was so happy that she jumped up and down, "Okay, let''s go to the Dragonpit to find the baby dragon."


    Rhaegar smiled and was about to ask the brothers Erryk and Arryk to escort them when Jeyne stepped forward and volunteered, "I''ll take them. It''s a good chance to meet Stormcloud." She didn''t object to Rhaegar''s n. After all, the two girls would surely lose to Rhaenyra''s many children. She would lead the three children to cultivate their rtionship and, by the way, take a look at the silver baby dragon, who used to be quite close to her.

 Chapter 565: Slippery Dragon – Grey Ghost

    Chapter 565: Slippery Dragon �C Grey Ghost


    Leaving the throne hall, Rhaegar rolled his eyes and returned to his rooms with a shake of his head.


    A few momentster, he hid his mouth and coughed lightly as he pushed open the door to his bedroom. In front of him was a softly lit room, with firewood burning in the firece on the right side. Rhaenyra sat on a soft cushion, holding a swaddled baby.


    When she heard the sound of the door opening, she put on an angry look, clearly not wanting to talk.


    "Is Visenya asleep?" Rhaegar asked softly as he moved toward the firece.


    Rhaenyra turned away, leaving only the back of her head visible.


    "Tsk." Rhaegar sighed, feeling helpless.


    He noticed an incubator ced next to the firece and curiously opened it, revealing a bright green dragon egg. "The kids have taken the dragon eggs out of the Dragonpit again," he remarked. Unhatched dragon eggs were usually housed inside the Dragonpit. This particr egg was Visenya''spanion dragon egg, but it was obviously not ready to hatch.


    Hearing the container being opened, Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and said coldly, "Rhaegar, if you have nothing important to say, leave my room."


    "Maybe there is something," Rhaegar responded with a sardonic smile as he closed the container lid."I advise you to keep it brief!" Rhaenyra warned, her expression showing she was ready to kick him out at any moment.


    Rhaegar held back a smile, feeling at a loss. The king''s rooms had always been inhabited by his father, and this room was formerly Rhaenyra''s bedroom. Kicking him out was something she could easily do.


    "Ahem." Seeing Rhaenyra''s growing impatience, Rhaegar cleared his throat and quickly said, "I''m not belittling Ba; it''s just that Dany and Anna are more suitable for Baelon."


    Rhaenyraposed herself, gently put the sleeping Visenya down, and fumed, "Since you know Ba is a good girl, you should have chosen her over Jeyne''s daughters."


    "They are my daughters too," Rhaegar responded calmly.


    "So what?" Rhaenyra raged, unable toprehend. "I don''t hate them, but I can''t tolerate my son bonding with Jeyne''s bloodline!"


    Jeyne had betrayed their friendship, and Baelon marrying her daughter would only taint his own bloodline.


    Rhaegar sighed softly, feeling a headacheing on. "Mother is also from House Arryn, and the fusion of the two houses would be beneficial, not harmful."


    "No!" Rhaenyra was agitated, her volume suddenly rising. "You drew up a marriage contract for my son without my consent!"


    Baelon was the oldest son, and she should have had a say in who he married. Rhaegar had not only betrothed Jeyne''s daughter to their oldest son but had also shown no respect for her opinion. Especially when she saw Jeyne looking smug, it felt like swallowing a hundred dead flies alive.


    Faced with Rhaenyra''s sudden outburst, Rhaegar remained silent for a while. Her pretty face was almost in front of his, her eyes filled with anger and a strong sense of grievance. He slightly tilted his head sideways, his mood extraordinarilyplicated.


    He did not think his judgment was wrong, though perhaps his approach had been slightly inappropriate. He had expected Rhaenyra''sint; she had never been one to temper her fiery disposition.


    "Answer me, Rhaegar!" Rhaenyra''s eyes were red, and tears were about to spill over. She couldn''t endure this farce any longer.


    Rhaegar turned back silently, a hint of apology in his eyes. He suddenly remembered the marriage between his great-grandfather, the Old King, and Queen Alysanne. The Old King was known as the Conciliator, and Alysanne was the Good Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, recognized for her kindness.


    The two siblings had risen to prominence, supporting their house and pushing it into prosperity. Yet, despite their strong bond, their marriage had faced two significant breaks due to dissatisfaction over the inheritance of their children and disagreements over their children''s marriages. Their union nearly ended when their youngest daughter, Gael, died unexpectedly in 99 AC. Thirteen children had predeceased their parents. Queen Alysanne couldn''t cope with the shock and eventually died in 100 AC. The Old King lingered on for three more years, passing away in 103 AC. Their lives were legendary and filled with tragedy, a basket case that ended in regret. Every time he thought about it, Rhaegar''s heart sank.


    "Rhaegar, do you think I have wronged you?" Rhaenyra, unaware of his thoughts, asked tearfully, her voice full of pathos.


    "No, of course not." Rhaegar snapped back to reality and hurriedly denied it.


    Rhaenyra wiped away her tears and said sadly, "But you treated me harshly."


    "Rhaenyra," Rhaegar''s expression grew serious as he took her in his arms. "I have absolutely no such intention. Ba is fine, and I will help her arrange a suitable marriage."


    "I don''t want your promises," Rhaenyra struggled, her voice strained. "Ba doesn''t need them either."


    "Baelon is my oldest son; he must bear the burden of peace in the kingdom." Rhaegar spread his hands, hastily exining, "Jeyne will soon return to the Vale. Dany and Anna are well-behaved. If you think this marriage hurts your pride, let''s choose a son for Ba to betroth."


    Truth be told, the tantrum-throwing Rhaenyra was harder to manage than a mother dragon hatching eggs. If Baelon''s marriage irritated her, he would make up for it with another marriage to establish her confidence as Queen.


    "What nonsense are you talking about? What do you take Ba for?" Rhaenyra stopped struggling, exasperated. "Even if we want a marriage, would both parties agree?"


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow and stated, "Ba has the ambition of any boy. A marriage is suitable for Aemon or Maekar."


    Kids were Rhaenyra''s bottom line. Every kid she raised was her proudest achievement. Rhaenyra sniffled and deted, "Maekar is only three and usually only attaches himself to Visenya."


    "Then change it," Rhaegar resumed his smirk and moved closer. "This marriage is yours to decide, and I fully support you."


    "As in the throne room, you support me?" Rhaenyra questioned, plucking at him hard.


    "Of course." Rhaegar''s gaze gleamed with full affirmation. "I''m relieved that you''re in charge."


    "Hmph." Rhaenyra''s cheeks reddened slightly as she hummed lightly. He knew just how to coax her, not a tyrant when it counts.


    ...


    At the same time, outside the door of the bedroom, two little headsy one on top of the other.


    "What?" Ba whispered incredulously, her eyes moving down to meet Aemon''s innocent gaze.


    "It''s unbelievable!" Ba eximed, her indignation clear. She jumped up and stormed off, fuming.


    She had intended to check on her adoptive mother��s well-being, but she had overheard more than she had bargained for. It seemed like her future was being decided without her input, and she wasn''t having it.


    "Don''t go," Aemon pleaded, worried that they hadn''t finished listening.


    "Step aside, idiot," Ba snapped, not giving him a second thought as she stormed away.


    "Ugh, what''s it to me?" Aemon muttered, scratching his head in frustration.


    ...


    Dragonpit


    "Run, run, run!" As soon as they rounded the pce, Lyanna darted off like a joyful deer, her short legs sprinting with excitement. Jeyne watched, dumbfounded, letting the little girl scurry about.


    Entering the Bronze Gate, the strong smell of dragons hit her nose.


    "Lady!" A team of Dragonkeepers stepped forward, led by an elderly Dragonkeeper.


    Jeyne nodded gently. "Take the kids around."


    "I want dragons, my little dragon!" Lyanna raised her hands high, her excitement palpable. Daenerys'' eyes twinkled silently with amusement.


    The elderly Dragonkeeper, experienced and respectful, replied, "One moment." Then, turning to the young Dragonkeeper behind him, hemanded in High Valyrian, "Thedy wants to see her dragon."


    "Yes," the young Dragonkeeper replied seriously, retreating with his bamboo staff in hand.


    Suddenly, a sharp dragon roar echoed inside and outside the Dragonpit, filled with a strong sense of resistance. Jeyne froze at the sound and inquired, "That sound is familiar, which dragon is it?"


    "Lady, it''s Stormcloud!" The elderly Dragonkeeper responded meticulously. "It''s been very restlesstely and is locked in the Dragonpit."


    "That''s a shame," Jeyne said regretfully, realizing the young dragon had already made its presence known.


    While talking, the young Dragonkeepers returned. One carried a chain with a shackle cuffing a bronze-colored young dragon. The other two carried a hatching container that opened to reveal a blue dragon egg.


    "Oh, Vermax!" Lyanna eximed, swooping down to pick up her young dragon.


    "Roar~" Vermax, lively and active, broke free of its chains and jumped into its master''s arms. The young dragon had grown rapidly, now the size of a small sheepdog, standing taller than its owner.


    "Ouch!" Lyanna eximed as Vermax pounced on her, spreading its blood-colored, spiderwebbed wings.


    "Careful, Anna," Jeyne said, holding her forehead helplessly. She then looked at her oldest daughter, who had been silent for a while, and asked softly, "Dany, aren''t you going to check on your dragon eggs?"


    "Huh?" Daenerys snapped back to her senses. "There��s the sound of a dragon��s roar, I was entranced by it." She turned around, her eyes as clear as white paper. There was no dragon in sight.


    "The dragons are in the Dragon Pit," the elderly Dragonkeeper murmured. Daenerys frowned and walked towards the hatching vessel. The bottom of the vessel was lined with red-hot coals, warming the blue dragon eggs. Daenerys hesitated for a second and reached out her hand to touch it.


    "Don''t be hasty!" Suddenly, a in hand held her wrist. Daenerys looked up in surprise and saw a clear, fair face.


    Hena''s eyes flickered as she slowly withdrew her hand and cautioned, "The dragon egg is very hot."


    A low roar came from the dragon pit as a huge light blue dragon head, followed by a silver dorsal fin, emerged. Dreamfyre''s vertical pupils ttened as it slowly climbed out of the pit, finding an open area to rest.


    Daenerys watched in awe. "It''s beautiful," she marveled.


    "It''s very old," Hena said, tilting her head. "It was once regarded as the auspicious birth of the Seven Kingdoms and was known as Dreamfyre."


    Before Sunfyre was born, Dreamfyre was the most beautiful dragon. Daenerys nodded,paring Dreamfyre to the Blue Dragon Egg, her eyes sparkling with admiration.


    ...


    Not far away, Baelon approached the Dragonkeeper alone and quietly requested to view the dragons.


    "Roar..." The Dragonkeeper had just retreated when a delighted roar echoed from above. Baelon looked up to see a light gray dragon hovering over the Dragonpit.


    "Gray Ghost!" Baelon eximed in surprise, a smile spreading across his face.


    Gray Ghost, the wild dragon renowned throughout the Seven Kingdoms, was known for its shyness and timidity. It perennially roamed between Dragonstone, King''s Landing, and Harrenhal, earning the trust of farmers and fishermen who never feared its presence.

 Chapter 566: Stormcloud Recognises a Master!

    Chapter 566: Stormcloud Recognises a Master!


    "Roar..." Gray Ghost hissed gleefully, gliding like a giant moth before diving into the Dragonpit.


    Boom!


    An adult dragonnded with a thunderous bang, sending dust flying in all directions.


    "Cough, cough, cough..." Baelon choked on the dust, trying to shield himself.


    "Roar..." Gray Ghost, indifferent to the chaos, enthusiastically pounced on Baelon, its huge dragon head nuzzling around him.


    "Haha, Gray Ghost, stop it," Baelonughed, unsteady on his feet as the dragon''s thick nostrils sniffed him, causing him to fall backward.


    Pfft...


    Instead of hitting the ground, Baelonnded on the dragon''s tail, which had cushioned his fall. For a moment, he froze, running his hands over the delicate scales. Unlike the usual rough and solid dragon scales, Gray Ghost''s were fine and dense, light gray diamond-shaped scales that felt as light as seawater.


    From afar, Gray Ghost''s movements were almost ghostly, hard to distinguish against the background. The dragon''s vertical pupils shone brightly as it lowered its head to Baelon, sniffing around to savor the familiar scent it liked so much."Gray Ghost, let me up first," Baelon gasped, struggling to breathe under the dragon''s weight and pping its light gray scales.


    "Prince!" The Dragonkeeper suddenly ran back, holding his bamboo staff nervously aimed at the dragon.


    "I''m fine, really," Baelon said, poking his head out from beneath the dragon''s neck and smiling awkwardly. Gray Ghost was always so enthusiastic; it was overwhelming.


    "Roar!" Suddenly, a loud and clear roar erupted, filled with thick wariness. Baelon nced sideways, just in time to see a pitch-ck dragon shadow sh past.


    Plop��


    Apanied by the ttering of chains, the pitch-ck dragon shadow shook off the Dragonkeeper and overwhelmed the defenseless Gray Ghost in one swift move.


    "Roar..." Gray Ghost shrieked in shock, hurriedly rolling over and tearing at its attacker.


    "Roar��" The pitch-ck dragon retreated angrily, its scales cracked from Gray Ghost''s bite.


    Only then did Baelon see the dragon clearly. Its entire body was as ck as night, with scarlet dorsal fins and wing membranes, and a horned crown on its hideous head.


    "Iragaxys, you scared me!" Baelon eximed, wide-eyed.


    "Roar��" Iragaxys held its head high, gazing provocatively at Gray Ghost, unmoved by the silver-haired child.


    Gray Ghost climbed up nimbly, spreading its light gray wings in an uncharacteristic offensive stance. Though not asrge as Iragaxys, Gray Ghost still outweighed him by more than three times.


    "Quiet, Iragaxys!" The Dragonkeeper hurried over, shouting and brandishing his bamboo staff.


    "Roar��" Iragaxys nced over, snorted disdainfully, and slowly slumped to the floor.


    Gray Ghost''s vertical pupils burned with intensity as it closed its maw, brewing a ball of Dragonfire. Baelon, caught between the two dragons, awkwardly waved his hand at the Dragonkeeper. "Stand back for now, don''t disturb them."


    The Dragonkeeper looked around, hesitated for a moment, then said, "As you wish, Prince." He slowly retreated, cautiously holding his bamboo staff.


    "Roar..." Gray Ghost crept softly, the initial enthusiasm gone, flicking the tip of his tail repeatedly. Baelon looked around and sat down on the edge of Gray Ghost''s dragon wing.


    "Roar��" Iragaxys red angrily and moved up to Gray Ghost, making a show of squeezing Baelon out of the way.


    Snap! Gray Ghostshed its tail at Iragaxys'' head. Iragaxys instantly behaved, reluctantly settling close to the ground. The bond between the two dragons was deep. Gray Ghost, though timid, had a firm hold over the temperamental Iragaxys.


    ...


    The sudden appearance of the two dragons naturally caught Jeyne''s attention. She pulled her two daughters close and asked nervously, "Where are these dragons from?"


    "That''s Gray Ghost and Iragaxys, a pair of rarely seen ymates," said the older Dragonkeeper, his eyes cloudy and voice thick. "The Prince and Gray Ghost are very close, and Your Grace is aware of this."


    "What a great wild dragon! I''m going to see it," Lyanna eximed, her eyes glowing. She mped her armpits around Vermax''s dragon neck and ran off excitedly.


    Since Cannibal and Sheepstealer were tamed, Gray Ghost was the only remaining wild dragon on Dragonstone. The hearts of the childs who had heard about it were filled with longing.


    "Anna!" Jeyne tried to stop her, but the mad little girl was already too far gone. The older Dragonkeeper, looking stoic, reminded her, "Gray Ghost never attacks humans, and Iragaxys is stable around it."


    Jeyne nced at Baelon, who was ying among the dragons, and asked in surprise, "The two dragons don''t reject him. Why hasn''t he chosen one to tame?"


    Not to mention that the ck dragon was an adult; the light gray wild dragon was also of considerable age. Visually, it wasn''t much smaller than Rhaenyra''s Syrax. An adult dragon like this could be much stronger than a young dragon hatched from an egg.


    The elderly Dragonkeeper frowned, about to reply, but Hena spoke first, cocking her head. "He wants an adult dragon."


    "That wild dragon is already an adult," Jeyne said, her willowy brows furrowing. She didn��t understand the age divisions of the creatures.


    Hena blinked, looking down and snapping her fingernails. Jeyne took a deep breath, knowing Hena was different from the norm, and asked patiently, "Will Baelon tame one of those two dragons when hees into contact with them?"


    After all, it was her future son-inw, and it was necessary to pay some attention. Hena sniffed, her beautiful eyes ncing into the distance where she saw Baelon holding Lyanna''s hand and touching the pitch-ck scales of Iragaxys. Under Jeyne''s expectant gaze, she bowed her head and contemted for a moment. Then, Hena, momentarily in a trance, brushed her palm over her slightly bulging belly and muttered, "Mother to mother, son to son."


    Jeyne was confused and couldn��t quite understand. At that moment, both of their attention was drawn to Baelon, and they ignored one crucial detail: the incubation container was emitting white smoke, and the blue dragon egg had quietly disappeared. Along with it, the petite Daenerys was gone too.


    ...


    A Certain Dragon Pit


    The tunnel was dark and stifling, and the stench of dragon droppings was amplified by the heat. Daenerys walked against the wall, clutching the dragon egg wrapped in cloth.


    Click! Her foot crushed a piece of bone. Daenerys shivered, her already pale face turning ghostly white.


    "I''m not afraid, I''m not afraid," she whispered, hugging the dragon egg tightly. "Baelor is above!" She didn''t know why she hade, but the roar she heard upon entering the Dragonpitpelled her forward.


    Tick! Tick! The tunnel grew deeper, the damp earth smelling fishy. Water oozed from the walls. Daenerys didn''t dare look up, struggling to move her feet over the uneven ground strewn with broken bones, which hurt her raw feet.


    "Roar!" Suddenly, a sharp, violent roar echoed through the tunnel, reverberating in the enclosed space.


    "It''s a dragon!" Daenerys'' wide eyes stared into the pitch-ck depths. A sense of being watched washed over her. Her heart thumped, and she swallowed hard. She was prepared, but she couldn''t help feeling nervous.


    Boom! A scorching torrent of heat erupted, and a silver firelight shed in the shadows. Before Daenerys could react, an ident urred.


    "Roar!" A bright silver dragon shadow shed by, its neck and hind foot chains ttering as it lunged out of the deep pit with tremendous force. Daenerys stiffened, gripping the dragon egg with all her strength. A gust of wind blew past her, and the enormous creature appeared before her eyes.


    The silver scales cut through the tunnel walls, whipping up sand and dirt. Daenerys was so mesmerized that she couldn''t open her eyes. Through the dust, she could vaguely see a silhouette and a pair of icy vertical pupils towering over her, shing with a cold aura.


    "Ah!" she screamed.


    Dragonpit, Great Hall


    "Ah!" Lyanna shrieked, her chubby hands covering her eyes.


    "Roar!" The vertical pupils of Iragaxys zed with rage as its sprawled body rose, exposing pitch-ck fangs. Lyanna, terrified, scraped a gash on her fleshy arm. She had wanted to y with the ck dragon, hugging and rubbing against its scales, but the dragon was not amused.


    "Roar!" Iragaxys, intolerant of teasing, brewed dark dragonfire in its throat.


    "Quiet, Iragaxys!" Baelon rushed forward, shielding Lyanna behind him, and held out his hand toward the dragon''s menacing maw. Iragaxys hesitated at the sound, its vertical pupils showing a hint of confusion as dragonfire tumbled within its mouth.


    "Prince, get back!" The Dragonkeepers rushed in, holding their bamboo staffs at the ready.


    "No, don''t provoke it," Baelonmanded, his small face tense as he locked eyes with the pitch-ck young dragon.


    "Roar..." Sensing the hostility around it, Iragaxys'' anger surged, dragonfire nearly spilling from its jaws.


    "No!" Baelon cried out, speaking in High Valyrian, "Stop the dragonfire, Iragaxys!" High Valyrian was the best choice for calming an enraged dragon, though it was a different story with a wild one.


    Hearing themand, Iragaxys slowly retracted its dragonfire and lowered its head toward the human child. It had seen Baelon before but had not received a response.


    Baelon''s eyes flickered as he continued, "Back off, Iragaxys." He had forgotten howmanding High Valyrian could be with a masterless dragon, his desire to tame an adult one overriding his focus.


    "Roar?" Iragaxys tilted its head, vertical pupils shing with intense curiosity.


    At once, the atmosphere was tense.


    Baelon shielded Lyanna and took a step back, shouting, "Return to the dragon pit, Iragaxys!"


    As he shouted, the Dragonkeepers slowly gathered around, raising their bamboo staffs to keep their distance from the dragon. A female Dragonkeeper, the most senior, rasped, "Back off, Iragaxys!"


    The young dragons in the Dragonpit were usually short-tempered but obedient, often returning to the pit when ordered. However, this time was different.


    Iragaxys stared straight at the human child, confirming that High Valyrian was not wrong, and a fury of being teased surged wildly. People choose dragons, and dragons choose their masters. The dragon felt abandoned and would do everything in its power to retaliate.


    "Roar!" Iragaxys raised its head high, its maw brewing dragonfire and spitting it out cleanly.


    "No, no, no!" The Dragonkeeper in the way was shocked and shrieked in fear.


    The next second, boom��the pitch-ck dragonfire engulfed one of the Dragonkeepers, incidentally scorching another, forming a puddle of dark swirls.


    "Run, the young dragon is out of control!" The female Dragonkeeper''s face changed drastically, and she fled with her bamboo staff. The rest of the Dragonkeepers protected Baelon and Lyanna, retreating backwards.


    "Roar!" Iragaxys'' retaliation did not stop; it continued to spray dragonfire at the humans.


    As soon as the dragonfire was spat out, a violent impact came from beside it. The Gray Ghost''s vertical pupils were fierce, and its tail swiped away the ck mes, opening its fangs to pounce on Iragaxys. The two dragons tumbled and tangled.


    Baelon, stunned, tugged Lyanna, who couldn''t walk, to run fast.


    "Aaaah!" The two Dragonkeepers initially engulfed by the dragonfire wailed and tumbled in the mes, letting out miserable screams. One suddenly stiffened his body, pulling an obsidian dagger from his pocket, and shed his neck. No blood spurted as the wound burned instantly, but the carotid artery snapped, ending the Dragonkeeper''s suffering.


    ...


    Dragon Pit


    "Ah!" Daenerys let out a shriek and instinctively closed her eyes. However, the imagined pain did note.


    "Roar..." Scorching hot airflow sprayed on her face, as if a smooth iron te was grinding against her body. Daenerys quietly opened her eyes and her expression changed.


    A handsome dragon with a shiny silver body, its neck and hind feet wrapped in chains, sniffed in her arms for a while. Staggered slightly, the giant silver dragon''s vertical pupils opened wide, gazing icily at the silver-haired girl. Slowly, it kept closing the distance.

 Chapter 567: Daenerys: Obey My Commands!

    Chapter 567: Daenerys: Obey My Commands!


    Red Keep, Godswood.


    The branches of the Godswood were thick and luxuriant, and the fallen red leaves formed a dense carpet.


    "s." The Sea Snake looked up at the slowly falling leaves, his eyes deep and still like a pool of stagnant water.


    A hint of mncholy was visible on his darkened face. He was old, and his House seemed to be declining under his leadership.


    "Corlys, it shouldn''t be like this." His voice was low,municating deep-seated resentment.


    He was Corlys Vryon, bearing the blood of the oldest and noblest House of Valyria. He had sailed across the Narrow Sea, married the Queen Who Never Was, and raised two children who were dragon riders. He had experienced wars and achieved many feats in his life. Few in the history of Westeros couldpare with him. How did he end up in such a state?


    Sasa...


    A strange noise came from behind, and he heard shuffling footsteps. The Sea Snake''s eyes narrowed as he turned his head silently.


    "Grandpa!"Ba''s voice was clear and crisp as she trotted up to him. The Sea Snake was a little surprised and smiled. "Ba."


    He was about to ask his granddaughter why she was there when another figure entered his view. Rhaenyra smiled, descending the low steps in a red tunic with gold thread. The Sea Snake wiped the smile off his face, looked at his granddaughter, and ran his hand through her hair. Ba pursed her lips and rubbed her cheek against his hand. The calluses on his hands were tender yet reliable.


    "Ba said you might be here," Rhaenyra approached slowly, smiling. "She trusts you very much and admires her Grandfather''s nine voyages."


    "You tter me, Your Grace," the Sea Snake responded in a neutral tone. What was there to say? He had just been publicly rejected by the king, who had refused his request for a marriage alliance.


    Rhaenyra paused for a moment and whispered, "May I have a word with Lord Corlys alone, Ba?"


    Ba was taken aback and looked up at her grandfather. The Sea Snake''s eyes flickered, and he nodded lightly. He was curious to know what they could talk about in private. Ba saw this and said obediently, "I will leave you two alone."


    After saying this, she took her grandfather''s hand and quickly left under the Weirwood. Once she could no longer see her granddaughter''s back, the Sea Snake returned to his usual solemn expression.


    Rhaenyra gathered her thoughts and spoke first: "I''ve been thinking for a long time about why you''re always spying on the throne."


    The Sea Snake''s face froze at these words. This was a direct usation that cut to the heart.


    Rhaenyra sped her hands together and said frankly, "You supported my aunt in her bid for the throne, and you wanted to marry Laena to my father. Are you thinking of your wife and daughter, or are you thinking of yourself?"


    The Sea Snake''s face darkened, and he lost interest in the conversation.


    "But after today''s events, I suddenly realized something." Rhaenyra changed the subject, looking up at the swaying Godswood and saying solemnly, "The world is not fair. When you stand in that position, you will face many pitfalls."


    "So?"


    The Sea Snake''s eyes flickered, and he became extremely vignt. His intuition told him that the other party must have something to ask for.


    "I''m sorry that Rhaegar said a lot of harsh things today."


    Rhaenyra didn''t respond directly but tried to repair the rtionship between the two families. The Sea Snake shook his head silently. This was not what he wanted to hear. The Queen''s apology might carry weight, but the word "harsh" wasn''t an admission of guilt.


    "This is an apology. I am sincere in our conversation," Rhaenyra said with a smile. "You have something to ask for, and I have something to ask for. This is not a conflict."


    At least today, both wanted to see Ba on the throne. The Sea Snake didn''t buy it and thought to himself, ''The king rejected Ba. He thinks Lady Jeyne''s daughter has more potential to be queen.''


    "But we both love Ba and want her to have a better future," Rhaenyra said calmly.


    The Sea Snake''s face remained expressionless, but inwardly he was growing more surprised. He had guessed correctly that she was trying to win him over.


    Rhaenyra continued, "I have a proposal. Ba is my foster daughter. She spent most of her young life with me, and I can marry her to Aemon."


    "Prince Aemon?" The Sea Snake''s heart leapt, though he asked knowingly, "They are the heirs to Lys and Tyrosh, respectively."


    "That''s right," Rhaenyra nodded, speaking bluntly. "Aemon will take over Lys, and Ba will inherit Tyrosh. Their children can rule two of the Free Cities in the Triarchy."


    Rhaegar had said that she would make the decisions about her children''s marriages. Since he didn''t want his eldest son Baelon to marry Ba, she would have her second son Aemon marry Ba to win over Daemon and Vryons to the royal family.


    She had also been heir to the Iron Throne and knew how to forge alliances. Rhaegar thought Jeyne was worth winning over to bnce the internal conflicts in the royal family. But Rhaenyra didn''t like being passive.


    Reflecting on history, the two best queens, Visenya and Alysanne, stood in stark contrast. Visenya was shrewd and capable, protecting the Conqueror Aegon from assassination attempts by Dorne with her sword, Dark Sister. Her life story was not only exciting, but if she had been a man, she would have been called Viserys, a name that held great significance. Perhaps the title of Conqueror should have been hers. In herter years, Visenya encouraged her son Maegor to usurp the throne and push the descendants of her younger sister Rhaenys off the Iron Throne. She died of old age before Maegor''s downfall, adding another regret to her legacy.


    In contrast, the kind Queen Alysanne spent her life serving her brother and husband. She gave birth to children, won over noble women, and proposed the Widow''s Law. But her end was not happy. Thirteen children, all of whom preceded her in death. Her breakups with the Old King were mostly about women''s rights and the right of children to inherit. She believed the first sessor should be her eldest daughter, Daenerys Targaryen, but the Old King disagreed. Unfortunately, Daenerys died of a tremor at the age of six. After that, peace was restored between Alysanne and the Old King''s court, but the quarrels never ceased.


    Rhaenyra sighed softly, "Queen Alysanne was a good woman, but her life was too exhausting."


    The Sea Snake frowned slightly. He didn''t know what Rhaenyra was thinking, but hearing about Queen Alysanne, he could guess the reason. The king had three wives in session, securing Rhaenyra''s concessions, the support of the Vale, and the loyalty of several half-brothers. A king could hold all the power, but the traditions of Westeros were different, and the disadvantages of having multiple wives were beginning to show. No one can sit idly by while their husband is shared.


    Rhaenyra snapped back to reality and tilted her head. "What do you think, Lord Corlys?"


    "It''s a generous offer," the Sea Snake replied, stepping forward with emotion. "Across the Narrow Sea lies a purend, where children can live a life of indulgence." The King oppresses his advisers, so joining forces with the Queen seemed like a wise decision. The Targaryens had already seen a Queen, Visenya, rule alongside their advisers. House Vryon had fallen so far that their heir was now a Targaryen girl. Without a strong ally, their future would be bleak.


    "Pleasure doing business with you!" Rhaenyra sighed in relief, smiling.


    The Sea Snake''s cold expression softened, though he remained serious. "The two children will be married, but there are still many things to consider."


    Rhaenyra tilted her head. "Like what?"


    "Daemon," the Sea Snake said, analyzing the problem. "Daemon is unpredictable, and White Worm is pregnant. As far as I know, Laena is also pregnant."


    Rhaenyra frowned slightly, not seeing it as a threat. Daemon had not yet married White Worm, and the child in her womb was merely a bastard. Before Laena''s pregnancy, White Worm could stir up trouble. Afterward, she could not even think aboutpeting for power.


    "That''s true, but we still need to be careful," the Sea Snake reminded her. "Daemon and Aemond act recklessly, which is not good for the royal family or anyone else." The bnce of power lies in the strength of different forces, but there are always people who stir up trouble and upset that bnce. Daemon and Aemond are both typical destabilizing factors.


    Rhaenyra seemed to understand but did not rush to answer...


    ...


    Dragonpit, Great Hall.


    "Roar..."


    ck Dragonfire sprayed wildly like the night sky, mming into the iron bridge at the top of the Dragonpit.


    "Quiet, Iragaxys!"


    The Dragonkeeper shouted from a distance, trying to calm the young dragon.


    "Roar..."


    The Grey Ghosty on the wall, its pale gray scales on its chest stained with blood, roaring down at the ground below. Iragaxys was rampaging, its neck and hind legs iling wildly, its body covered in blood. A sub-adult dragon was no match for an adult dragon.


    "Baelon, Anna!"


    The Dragonpit was inplete chaos. Jeyne looked worried, dragging the two children back under the protection of the Dragonkeepers.


    "Woah woah woah..."


    Anna''s big eyes were overflowing with tears, and her face was ashen. She threw herself into her mother''s arms, weeping. Baelon''s face was pale, the tips of his silver hair slightly curled. He could still smell a hint of burnt air.


    Jeyne hugged Baelon, carefully examining him. "Are you hurt anywhere?"


    "No, no."


    Baelon''s cold sweat trickled down his face, his speech slurred. Dragonfire had passed behind him, almost sending him back into the childhood he had fled.


    "It''s okay, let''s go."


    Jeyne''s heart was pounding, fearing something had happened to the children. She suddenly looked back and noticed one person was missing.


    "Where''s Daenerys!?"


    She was clearly still next to the incubator. Jeyne''s forehead broke out in a cold sweat. When she looked at the incubator, it was empty. Not only was Daenerys missing, but the dragon egg was also gone.


    "Lady, take the Prince and Princess and leave the Dragonpit."


    The elderly Dragonkeeper looked grave, making way for them.


    "But..."


    Jeyne was at a loss, looking around for her daughter.


    Rumbling.


    Suddenly, there was a strange noise from the underground dragon pit, as if a giant beast was charging recklessly. The old Dragonkeeper''s face changed dramatically. "Be careful, the young dragon is frightened!"


    Boom!


    A dragon pit suddenly burst into smoke and dust, apanied by a loud dragon roar.


    Roar!


    Pale Dragonfire spewed out like a pir, dispersing the dark Dragonfire that had been spreading indiscriminately. The old Dragonkeeper turned back in panic, unable to believe his eyes.


    Roar!


    A handsome dragon head poked out of the smoke, followed by a long neck and a pair of silver-colored wings. Stormcloud''s golden pupils were full of wildness. It quickly rushed out of the dragon pit, showing an elegant and slender posture.


    Jeyne looked at the familiar silver dragon and the figure on its back, her pupils suddenly shrinking. "Dany!!"


    Roar!


    Stormcloud let out a loud roar, swinging its long neck back and forth, pping its wings and soaring into the sky. A little girl with silver hair clung to the dragon''s back, her hands sped tightly around its scales, trembling with fear.


    Whoosh!


    The silver dragon, eager to reach the sky, burst out of the Dragonpit. Feeling the strong wind, the little girl with silver hair looked up timidly.


    "Roar!"


    Stormcloud was agile, leaping over the iron bridge at the top of the Dragonpit and spitting out a mouthful of Dragonfire.


    "Ah!"


    Daenerys eximed, burying her head and shouting, "Obey mymands! Obey mymands!" Her voice was high-pitched and weak, but it was spoken in High Valyrian. Although shecked confidence, it worked on the baby dragon. Unfortunately, the little girl couldn''t call out the dragon''s name, hesitating to give themand.


    "Roar..."


    Stormcloud''s golden pupils narrowed. It nced back at the rider, turned yfully, and dove vertically.


    "Ahhh!"


    In the Great Hall of the Dragonpit, Jeyne looked up in panic, hearing only her daughter''s scream of terror.

 Chapter 568: A Mother’s Temper

    Chapter 568: A Mother��s Temper


    "No, Dany!"


    Jeyne was horrified, as if someone had grabbed her heart and squeezed it. At the top of the Dragonpit, the chains were tightly woven.


    "Roar!"


    A young dragon with silvery scales and a slender body roared in a high-pitched voice, soaring around the Dragonpit.


    "No! Listen to mymands!"


    Daenerys''s pale face was full of panic, her eyes barely open against the wind. Stormcloud was ill-tempered, and it flew faster and faster with its rider. It soared into the sky, the clouds obscuring Daenerys''s mouth. She screamed loudly, gulping down clouds, choking and coughing.


    "Roar!"


    Stormcloud leapt above the clouds, the sun reflecting off its silver scales, making it look like a magnificent dragon made of white crystal. It gave Daenerys no time to catch her breath. Its golden pupils flickered, and the dragon tilted its head back, turning a full circle and plummeting straight down like a shooting star.


    H��The strong wind blew, Daenerys''s little face turning red as she struggled to scream. She instinctively clutched the gaps between the scales with her small hands, not letting go of the dragon''s back. Many in the Dragonpit witnessed this scene. Jeyne''s eyes widened in horror, seeing her daughter''s silver hair whipping in the air and half of her body hanging precariously.


    "No!"


    She cried out, her voice piercing. Unable to bear it any longer, Jeyne rushed out of the Dragonpit, desperation in every step.


    "Wait a little longer."


    A gentle hand grabbed her. Jeyne turned sharply to see Hena, her eyes vacant as she looked up at the silver-white dragon in the sky.


    "Dragons don''t harm their riders," Hena muttered.


    No one can ride a dragon without permission. Of course, that doesn''t apply to a certain brave boy who jumped from a great height as a child...


    "Listen to mymands..."


    Stormcloud plunged down from the clouds, his eyes full of excitement, ignoring the rider''s shouts. The rider called out for a long time, but nomand was given.


    "Listen to mymand!"


    Daenerys opened her eyes wide, biting her lower lip, and suddenly shouted, "Stormcloud, Dragonfire!!"


    "Dracarys... Dracarys..."


    Her voice was clear and rang out with the wind. Stormcloud''s golden pupils widened, and its body shook violently, slowing its descent. But themand had already been given.


    "Roar!"


    In the next moment, Stormcloud roared loudly, spewing arge ball of silver-white Dragonfire from its mouth.


    Boom!


    Dragonfire rolled and surged, and the man and dragon plunged into it, breaking free in an instant.


    Roar!


    Stormcloud''s golden pupils narrowed, its wings closing slightly. With a crackling sound, the iron bridge creaked. Stormcloud glided smoothly, its belly touching the iron chains as it passed.


    Inside the Dragonpit, Jeyne''s jaw dropped at the sight of the young dragon''s scales, as bright as silver foil, and then only the tip of its tail, which was growing a dorsal fin.


    "Dany!" Baelon eximed, looking up and seeing the figure on the dragon''s back.


    "Roar!"


    A roar like the cracking of a silver bottle, and the silver-white young dragon disappeared in a sh. In an instant, everyone''s hearts were in their throats again.


    "Hahaha~~"


    Suddenly, theughter of the little girl echoed in the air. Hoo��


    The silver-white dragon soared once again to the top of the Dragonpit, its golden pupils shining brightly. The speed of its flight had clearly slowed down.


    "Stormcloud, higher!"


    Compared to the gentle back of the dragon, Daenerys finally straightened her back, her eyes full of surprise.


    "Roar!"


    Stormcloud let out a low roar, as if in response to his rider. Soon, Daenerys felt a gust of wind and the blue sky above her head getting closer and closer.


    "Stormcloud, faster!"


    Daenerys sped her hands tightly on the scales, her face flushed with excitement. Her bright purple eyes, free of fear, glowed with a light of freedom. For some reason, when she was about to lose her grip and fall off the dragon''s back, the name "Stormcloud" came to mind, as if it had been engraved in her brain.


    "It''s so hot," Daenerys muttered, her face turning redder, a faint sheen of sweat appearing on her forehead. She had almost fainted. Could it be a side effect?


    "Roar!"


    Stormcloud nced back at the rider, pped his wings, and flew up into the sky, circling a few clouds to cool down. Daenerys noticed this and felt dizzy.


    "Thank you, Stormcloud."


    What a thoughtful young dragon. Stormcloud''s golden pupils shed with a hint of doubt as it crashed into two clouds, slowly descending. If it didn''t descend, the rider would fall...


    Dragonpit, main hall.


    "Dany." Jeyne muttered, looking at the suddenly friendly silver dragon with surprise. Even the old Dragonkeeper was stunned, muttering in High Valyrian, "The dragon has recognized its master..."


    There was no denying it, as they watched the silver dragon slowly descend. Everyone let out a sigh of relief, their hearts settling back into their chests. However, one wave of trouble was followed by another.


    "Roar!" Iragaxys roared angrily, its pupils fixed on Grey Ghost and Stormcloud in midair, its mouth spewing out jet-ck Dragonfire. It was furious, and no one was safe.


    "Roar!" Grey Ghost''s pupils filled with annoyance, its wings pointed forward, ready to teach its disobedient little brother a lesson. The Dragonkeepers surrounded the two dragons, their faces tense, afraid to approach.


    "Lady, leave now," the old Dragonkeeper urged, raising his hand to persuade her again. Jeyne, momentarily dazed, did not refuse his kindness.


    "Suppress them, Dreamfyre!" A gentle voice came from her ear as Hena silently gave themand.


    Boom! The light blue dragon in the corner suddenly opened its eyes, standing up with its wings supporting the floor, shaking. Hena nced at it and whispered, "It''sing."


    "Who''sing?" Jeyne looked at Dreamfyre nkly, not understanding what she meant. Hena turned her head away and reinforced themand: "Suppress them!"


    "Roar..." Dreamfyre''s pupils narrowed, and it growled angrily. Its huge body rushed out like a copsing mountain.


    Bang! Iragaxys didn''t have time to resist, and was pinned down by the light blue dragon''s w that fell from the sky. The w gripped its neck tightly, the sharp edges piercing through the ck scales.


    "Roar!" Dreamfyre, enraged, swayed its massive body, its long tailshing out into the air. Grey Ghost was about to flee, but the light blue tail, as thick as its neck, came flying at it.


    Boom! Grey Ghost didn''t even have time to scream, knocked unconscious, pping its wings and falling.


    Hena watched quietly, directing from the side: "Gently, Dreamfyre."


    After swallowing the Dragon''s Essence, Dreamfyre''s size had broken the age limit, reaching an astonishing length of over 100 meters. Among its peers, only Cannibal could keep up with it. Even Vermithor was only slightly inferior.


    "Amazing." Baelon was very surprised, admiringly saying, "Aunt, Dreamfyre is amazing."


    "It''s not ready to be ridden yet," Hena tilted her head, saying frankly, "I still have many years to live. You''ll have to find another dragon to tame."


    "Uh..." Baelon was so shocked by this that he almost peed his pants. He didn''t mean that!


    Suddenly, a voice called out from the Dragonpit.


    "Baelon!"


    Baelon turned around to see two white chariots pull up simultaneously. Rhaenyra jumped off her chariot and ran into the Dragonpit, worry etched on her face.


    "Baelon, are you okay?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern.


    From the other chariot, Rhaegar, looking anxious, helped Viserys down slowly.


    "Don''t worry about me. Look at them first," Viserys gasped, waving his hand.


    Rhaegar didn''t dy, handing his father over to Erryk, the captain of the Kingsguard, and quickly entering the Dragonpit. Rhaenyra was even faster, grabbing Baelon, who was covered in dust and dirt.


    Rhaegar looked around and saw Dreamfyre holding down two dragons, with two charred corpses on the ground.


    Anna''s tears flowed freely, and she shook her head vigorously.


    Rhaegar could do nothing but hold his sobbing daughter in his arms. He asked the old Dragonkeeper, "What happened? Why did the young dragons riot?"


    "Your Grace, the young dragons have been very restlesstely," the old Dragonkeeper replied, trembling with fear. "To help them get through this period of restlessness, they were put in shackles and chains."


    "Stupid!" Rhaegar shouted angrily, "Since I was a child chains were forbidden in the Dragonpit!"


    "I''m sorry, Your Grace," the old Dragonkeeper lowered his head in shame, not daring to contradict him.


    Rhaegar searched back and forth, restraining his anger. "Where is Maester Maynard? Where is the Dragonpit Maester in the middle of such a big event?"


    "Maester Maynard is not here," a young Dragonkeeper whispered, "The Maester is teaching at the royal academy. It''s Maynard''s turn in thest two weeks."


    "Damn it." Rhaegar was furious. He had heard the dragon roaring at the Red Keep and identally let a silver dragon hatchling fly out. He had been discussing taxes with his father when they both rushed to the Dragonpit.


    "Roar!" A neighing came from the sky as Stormcloud floated past,nding outside the Bronze Gates.


    "Stormcloud?" Rhaegar was taken aback. Then he saw the small figure on the dragon''s back and suddenly realized, "It''s Dany, she tamed Stormcloud."


    At this moment, Stormcloud obediently lowered its head, allowing its rider to dismount. Daenerys was reluctant to leave, looking at the people inside the Dragonpit, her face full of nervousness. She had snuck into the Dragonpit and almost been eaten by a dragon. She was going to get scolded.


    Rhaegar looked at his eldest daughter, who was safe and sound, and let out a sigh of relief. He then turned to Baelon and asked, "Are you hurt?"


    "No," Baelon replied, his face full of apprehension.


    Rhaenyra frowned slightly and lifted her eldest son''s sleeve to reveal a row of blisters. "How could this happen?"


    Jeyne was shocked and reached out to touch Baelon''s wound.


    Pop! Rhaenyra pped her hand away, warning, "Don''t touch him, or the next p will be in your face."


    "I didn''t know, Rhaenyra," Jeyne panicked and hurriedly exined, "Anna startled the baby dragon, and Baelon tried to stop it. It was an ident."


    Anna huddled in Rhaegar''s arms, her little body trembling as she repeated, "I''m sorry, I''m sorry."

 Chapter 569: Viserys: My Dragon Can Be Yours

    Chapter 569: Viserys: My Dragon Can Be Yours


    "Don''t be afraid, Anna."


    Rhaegar''s face was a study in mixed emotions as he tried to piece together what had happened. The young dragon had be agitated and attacked the brother and sister who hade to see it.


    "Jeyne, is this how you care for my children?" Rhaenyra''s eyes were full of doubt, and her anger at her eldest son''s mishap was palpable.


    "No, it was an ident," Jeyne exined helplessly. "Dany almost had an ident too." She turned her head to the side, gesturing for Rhaenyra to look outside.


    "Roar!" Stormcloud raised its head and snorted, carrying its rider slowly into the Dragonpit. Daenerys'' eyes were blurred, her face unnaturally flushed in a state of drunken confusion.


    "Stormcloud, slow down." The little girl''s eyes were unfocused, her thin figure swaying back and forth as the scene before her spun. Stormcloud nced at her with its golden pupils and lowered its back as much as possible to prevent her from falling off.


    Jeyne, eager to prove her point, pointed at Stormcloud and said, "Dany was carried on the back of this dragon and almost died."


    "Don''t you think it''s funny?" Rhaenyra snorted, grabbing her eldest son''s burnt arm. She red at the docile Stormcloud and asked, "My son was burned when he touched the dragon, but your daughter got a dragon?"


    "Mother..." Baelon''s face froze, and he tried to exin."Shut up!" Rhaenyra shouted angrily. "You were always the most behaved child, and this is the first time you''ve been hurt by a dragon."


    Dragons are like the most dazzling roses in a garden, their charming appearance concealing endless danger. Everyone who hase into contact with a dragon has been scarred in some way. Not to mention Rhaegar and Aemond, who tamed a wild dragon and were injured by its resistance.


    Like the Dragonkeepers who guard the dragons, everyone has scars left by the dragons. For this reason, every Dragonkeeper must have a dragon crystal dagger. If they encounter Dragonfire, they should use this to quickly end the pain.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes were full of murderous intent as she carefully examined her eldest son''s entire body. His hair was slightly singed, his back red and hot, and his knees bruised and scraped. She took a deep breath, ring at the innocent-looking Jeyne, and gritted her teeth. "How do you exin this?"


    She couldn''t believe that Baelon would be attacked by a dragon. Since his birth, her eldest son had been very popr with the dragons. No dragon had ever tried to harm him.


    Faced with the usation, Jeyne also became angry and said coldly, "Anna angered the ck dragon. Baelon was protecting his sister. That''s all I know." The implication was that she had deliberately tried to harm Baelon. This was ridiculous and iprehensible.


    "Grey Ghost and Iragaxys get along well. They have been in contact with Baelon longer than any other Dragonkeeper!" Rhaenyra raised her voice and approached menacingly.


    "Mother." Baelon was flustered and hurriedly tried to stop her.


    "Rhaenyra, I already said I did nothing!" Jeyne''s face was ashen as she argued back.


    The two women drew closer and closer, with only a six-year-old child standing between them. The old Dragonkeepers were stunned, their eyes recoiling in fear. They were lucky that the Dragonpit was a royal ce and that outsiders were not allowed to enter. Jeyne hade alone, without her friends Jessamyn, Skr, and the others. Rhaenyra, needless to say, had hurried to the Dragonpit, calling only one Kingsguard to bring her here.


    Inside the Dragonpit, the empty surroundings were unusually lively. On one side, Dreamfyre growled lowly, using its enormous size to suppress the two restless dragons. At the Bronze Gate, Stormcloud crawled slowly, the little girl on its back drowsy.


    In the center of the Dragonstone floor, Rhaenyra and Jeyne, both furious, nearly lost their heads and collided.


    "Stop!" Rhaegar, watching from the sidelines, intervened just in time. What a joke��a trivial misunderstanding could ignite a fire in the harem.


    "Rhaegar, look at Baelon!" Rhaenyra snapped, pointing at the little girl in Jeyne''s arms. "I''ve been looking after Anna for so long, and the children have always gotten along. Jeyne has only been looking after Baelon for a day."


    "If Jeyne had wanted to hurt Baelon, he wouldn''t have only been hurt." Rhaegar sighed, trying to diffuse the tension. "This is all a misunderstanding!"


    Jeyne''s eyes widened, knowing that Rhaenyra was biased. "Stop it, both of you, right now!" Rhaegar''s headache was throbbing, and he quickly stepped between the two women to prevent the conflict from escting. The two women, still very angry, were forced to separate, staring at each other with cold eyes.


    "You need to stop arguing and tell the truth." Rhaegar frowned, pulling Baelon, who was caught in the middle, out of the fray. Baelon''s eyes were red and he was panicking.


    "Don''t be afraid, my child," Rhaegar cooed gently. "They are both prejudiced. Tell me what happened."


    Women protecting their children can bepletely irrational; they are not as reliable as children.


    "Father, it''s not like that." Baelon wiped away his tears. "Iragaxys lost control. I spoke High Valyrian, but I didn''t ept its goodwill."


    "Iragaxys showed you goodwill?" Rhaegar looked sideways at the struggling ck dragonlet, surprised. "That''s why it attacked you."


    A dragon acknowledging a Dragonlord''s bloodline is a significant gesture. Baelon''s rejection of Iragaxys led to the attack.


    "Yes," Baelon said, lowering his head and weeping. "I wanted to protect Anna, so I spoke High Valyrian without thinking."


    Hearing this, Rhaenyra and Jeyne were both stunned. No one expected the young dragon attacked out of revenge. Rhaenyra, in particr, looked at her eldest son with aplex expression, unsure what to say.


    "No!" Anna, lying in Rhaegar''s arms, poked her head out, teary-eyed. "It was because I wanted to ride on the dragon''s back that the dragon got angry." She shook her little body and apologized with a sob.


    Jeyne, seeing this, took out a handkerchief to wipe her daughter''s tears and tore off a corner of her skirt to bandage Baelon''s arm. This time, the two women were silent. Both children were at fault, pushing the ident to the edge of a cliff.


    Rhaegar shook his head and said slowly, "Listen carefully, this was an ident."


    "I always knew that," Jeyne said in a low voice, gently bandaging Baelon''s arm.


    "Ssshh!" The silk touched the wound, and Baelon gasped in pain, tears welling up.


    Rhaenyra nced at him, then looked away, gritting her teeth. "Serves you right!" She thought, ''You had to be a hero, and in the end, you''re just a crybaby.''


    Knock, knock! The misunderstanding cleared up, but the atmosphere remained oppressive. With the sound of his crutches hitting the ground, Viserys walked over with great effort.


    "Father," Rhaegar said, stepping forward to help him.


    "No, I can still walk." Viserys''s face was gloomy as he pushed his eldest son away with his crutches. His old, clouded eyes swept over the three women present. Rhaenyra and Hena were his eldest and second daughters, and Jeyne was the niece of histe wife, Aemma. Hena was the most innocent, standing alone on the edge, watching Dreamfyre taking care of the two dragons.


    Viserys nced over at his second daughter, who was always quiet and reserved. Rhaenyra and Jeyne both felt a chill in their hearts when they met the old king''s gaze, and they quietly drew away from each other.


    "Ahem, ahem, ahem..."


    Viserys suddenly coughed violently, his dry hand grasping his eldest son''s arm. His face was grave. "Rhaegar, I have heard much. As a father and former king, I must tell you that running a household is not easy."


    "I understand," Rhaegar said with a forced smile.


    "No, you don''t." Viserys shook his head and called Ser Erryk, who was apanying him. "You must know that a household represents many factors, and it cannot be managed by wisdom and bravery alone."


    Erryk stepped forward, cradling the unconscious Daenerys in his arms.


    "Dany?" Rhaegar was taken aback, then he saw Stormcloud already at the door. Viserys brushed his granddaughter''s silver hair aside and touched her hot cheek with his finger. "My poor, sweet granddaughter, a brave dragon rider, and yet her parents have forgotten her."


    In fact, this was not the first time the two had met. After Daenerys was born, Viserys had arrived at The Eyrie on Vermithor at the end of that farcical wedding. It was also after that that his health had deteriorated, and he had rarely ridden a dragon for many years.


    "Father, I''m sorry," Rhaegar said, taking Anna in one arm and Dany in the other.


    "There''s nothing to apologize for." Viserys was very open-minded, and a smile appeared on his pale face. "Both girls are good girls. They oftene to talk to me, their grandfather."


    Jeyne''s eyes flickered slightly at this. ''Was the old king trying to protect her two daughters?''


    Rhaenyra clenched her fists, feeling a bitter wave well up in her heart.


    Viserys sensed his eldest daughter''s thoughts and took her clenched hand in his, wrapping both hands around it. Rhaenyra looked back in surprise.


    "Rhaegar has done nothing wrong." Viserys'' eyes were gentle, pouring all the love of a father into his words. "Baelon is a good boy, and this marriage will certainly strengthen the family."


    Rhaenyra felt wronged, and she tugged at her palm, but couldn''t break free. She pouted, "Maybe."


    If it weren''t for Jeyne, those two children wouldn''t exist. She had already backed down step by step.


    "My daughter, you have suffered injustice, and I have always been aware of it." Viserys looked up and said sincerely, "But you are the older sister, and asional patience is necessary."


    "Father~~" Rhaenyra''s heart trembled, and she couldn''t help but shed tears. After so many years, only her father remembered her contributions.


    "Be good." Viserys smiled, a thousand words condensed into a single reminder.


    Rhaegar watched silently as his father resolved conflicts for him one by one. In the early days of his reign, the family was weak, and he had to use his wits to survive. But now, with so many people in the family, the shadow of internal strife was beginning to loom.


    Viserys patted his eldest son on the shoulder and then pulled the disheveled Baelon to him. "You gave up a young dragon. Can you tell your Grandfather why?"


    Baelon looked up and nced at his father. Rhaegar nodded, encouraging him to speak freely.


    Baelon sniffed and said sheepishly, "Iragaxys is fine, but I want an adult dragon."


    "Oh?" Viserys thought for a moment. Baelon pointed to the light blue Dreamfyre and said frankly, "I want this kind of dragon. I have a hunch that I need such a dragon."


    Hearing the word "hunch," Viserys''s face darkened, and he said sternly, "There are very few dragons in the House, and most of them already have owners."


    "I know." Baelon lowered his head in disappointment. Dragons all have owners, and he didn''t want a dragon without one.


    Viserys thought for a moment, then said to Rhaegar, "Take Baelon to see Silverwing. It is an adult dragon, too. Although not asrge as others, it is old enough and strong enough to suppress three generations of dragons in the House."


    "I will," Rhaegar promised.


    Baelon was less than enthusiastic. Silverwing was only slightlyrger than Sheepstealer, andpared to the Cannibal, Vhagar, and Dreamfyre, it was far inferior.


    "You don''t like it?" Viserys noticed the expression on the little one''s face, and a sh of inspiration crossed his mind. He smiled and said, "If you don''t have a dragon when you be an adult, it may prove that you have another destiny."


    "What do you mean?" Baelon didn''t understand.


    Viserys shook his head,ughing as he stroked Baelon''s head. "When I die and if you still haven''t found a dragon you like, my dragon can be yours."

 Chapter 570: The Wall and the Night’s Watch

    Chapter 570: The Wall and the Night��s Watch


    Bronze Fury - Vermithor


    Baelon was stunned by the news, and tears welled up in his eyes. Viserys reached out to wipe them away, smiling. "Why are you crying?"


    "I don''t want your dragon." Baelon''s face tightened, and he choked up.


    Viserys, puzzled, leaned down to look at the little boy. Baelon wiped his tears and muttered, "If I ride your dragon, it means you''re already dead."


    Viserys'' heart softened.


    "I don''t want you to die." Baelon''s head hung low. "I don''t want anyone to die either."


    To Baelon, if riding an adult dragon meant the death of a loved one; he would rather only ride a horse for the rest of his life.


    "You have raised a fine child," someone remarked.


    Viserys, moved, took his eldest son and eldest daughter''s hands. "Don''t disappoint the children''s kindness."Rhaegar and Rhaenyra exchanged nces, satisfaction evident in their eyes.


    "My promise has always been valid," Viserys dered, propping himself up and gasping for breath. "But I will live well and watch our house continue to prosper."


    Rhaegar smiled and reached out to help his father. He whispered, "Of course, you are still in your prime."


    "Oh, don''t try tofort me," Viserys gasped, hisughter sounding harsh.


    "No, I''m serious," Rhaegar said resolutely. "I''ve found a way to heal your damage to the Spirit."


    The runes��Dream Eater��specialize in the Spirit. ''If my father can learn them, he should be able to heal'', he thought.


    Viserys, skeptical, changed the subject. "Let''s go back to the Red Keep first. My grandchildren are still injured."


    "Good," Rhaenyra said, wiping her eyes and helping her father to his feet.


    Rhaegar, carrying his two daughters in his arms, found it inconvenient. Baelon tried to get closer, but his father gave him a look. Rhaegar assessed him. "Starting tomorrow, until the end of Aegon''s wedding, you and Aemon will be staying at the royal school."


    "Grand Maester Orwyle will be teaching us?" Baelon asked in surprise.


    "No," Rhaegar shook his head firmly. "You won''t learn anything new at the Red Keep. Maester Munkun at the Royal School will broaden your horizons."


    Since its founding, the Royal School had been attended by both nobles andmoners. The only royal member to attend was Aemond, representing House Targaryen. It was time to focus on the education of future generations, especially in terms of emotional development.


    "Fine," Baelon replied, dejected, wishing his burns were more serious. With Maester Munkun''s strictness, visiting the Dragonpit would be difficult.


    ...


    The Next Day


    The weather was clear and cloudless over the Red Keep. In the princess''s bedroom, the ticking of a clock punctuated the silence. The branches of the Godswood tree reached out to the balcony, its red leaves dripping with dew, creating a crisp, pleasant sound.


    Rhaegary on the edge of the bed, his head buried in his arm. On the bed, Daenerysy with her eyes closed, her cheeks still flushed from her dragon ride. The little girl''s temperature had risen the previous day, and the Maester had been unable to help. Rhaegar had sat by her bedside all night, sleeping in his clothes.


    "Dragons..." Daenerys'' eyebrows furrowed, and she muttered something in her sleep. Rhaegar immediately sensed his daughter''s unusual state and he woke with a start.


    "Dragons... burn them all..." Daenerys'' face gradually turned pale, and she shook her head as if trying to escape. Rhaegar hurriedly woke his daughter: "Dany, wake up."


    "Burn them all... burn them all..." Daenerys repeated this phrase over and over again, still in a daze. Rhaegar, anxious, resorted to extraordinary measures.


    "Croak." A gray light shed from his brow, and a gray toad leapt out. Rhaegar stroked his daughter''s forehead and muttered, "The toad eats dreams, nibbling away at them."


    "Croak." The toad, with its dead fish eyes,y motionless by the pillow. Rhaegar was shocked but relieved as Daenerys slowly opened her eyes and woke from her dream.


    "Father." Daenerys'' eyes were confused, like a lost fawn.


    "I''m here." Rhaegar dispelled the toad with a wave of his hand and hugged his frail daughter. "Are you awake? How do you feel?"


    Daenerys, still dazed, snuggled into her father''s arms and muttered, "I had a dream."


    "What did you dream about?" Rhaegar asked, puzzled.


    Daenerys blinked, then suddenly started. "I don''t remember." She covered her head, trying to recall. "I dreamed about it."


    "What did you dream about?" Daenerys'' eyes were unfocused, her head aching as she frowned. It seemed like she had dreamed of something terrible, but she couldn''t remember what it was.


    Rhaegar witnessed this and patiently persuaded her: "Don''t think about it. Don''t let the nightmare haunt you."


    Perhaps it was a premonitory dream, but a dream that cannot be recalled is like a flower in a mirror or the moon in water.


    Knock, knock! The door was rapped upon, and Erryk''s voice came through: "Your Grace, someone is visiting from The North."


    Rhaegar frowned and replied, "I know. Wait a moment."


    "Yes, Your Grace." The footsteps outside the door grew distant and quiet.


    "Father."


    Rhaegar looked down, meeting Daenerys''s timid gaze. She hesitated for a moment and whispered, "Is Stormcloud okay?"


    She must have tamed the silver dragon. Rhaegar smiled. "He''s fine. When you''ve recovered, you can go to the Dragonpit to see him."


    "Okay," Daenerys agreed.


    "Before that, the Princess needs to get up and wash up." Rhaegar winked and picked up his soft daughter. "You are already the master of Stormcloud. You will be just like Anna."


    "Where is Anna?" Daenerys thought of her sister, who was very close to her.


    "They went to the royal school." Rhaegar put a coat on his daughter and walked out holding her. "You will have to go there too."


    "Ah?" Daenerys was stunned for a moment.


    ...


    The Council Chamber at Noon


    The sun was high in the sky, casting its light over the Council Chamber as Rhaegar entered with a nk expression. "Your Grace, Your Grace..." Two middle-aged Night''s Watchmen in ck robes and unshaven faces bowed. Rhaegar nodded lightly, his eyes falling on Lyonel, who was entertaining an elderly man with graying hair from the North.


    Lyonel introduced, "Your Grace, this is Lord Roderick Dustin of Barrowton." Before he could continue, the elderly Roderick bowed and said in a deep voice, "Your Grace, Ie on behalf of my liege, Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell."


    Lyonel, interrupted mid-speech, licked his lips in irritation. ''The people of the North are really rude and unreasonable'', he thought.


    Rhaegar smiled and said teasingly, "Please rise. This is not the first time we have met, old Roderick."


    "Ha ha, yes, Your Grace." Roderick, arge man,ughed like thunder from the nds.


    Rhaegar sat at his desk, covered with a letter bearing the seal of a direwolf. He opened it and said, "Cregan is a very busy man. What trouble has he encountered that requires you toe in person?"


    After the Gods Eye tournament, the young Cregan had be famous and gained much poprity in the North. In 126 AC, at the age of 16, Cregan became an adult. His uncle, Bennard Stark, refused to relinquish power and insisted on continuing as Regent.


    Cregan, strong-willed and embodying the indomitable spirit of House Stark, quickly staged a coup, summoned his vassals, arrested his uncle Bennard, and sent him and his descendants to the Wall to serve as the Night''s Watch. Rhaegar admired his decisive actions and wrote to him to express his condolences. Over time, the two men became reluctant pen pals.


    Roderick stared at Rhaegar and spoke loudly, "Your Grace, Lord Cregan is a kind man, but he is in too much trouble."


    "Just tell me what you want," Lyonel said, pouring a ss of red wine. "I believe Lord Cregan has already given you his instructions."


    Rhaegar nced at the two men and opened the envelope. Roderick, choked with emotion, pulled two Night''s Watchmen forward and said in a low voice, "They know the specific problems better than I do."


    "Night''s Watch?" Lyonel''s eyes shed with curiosity. "The guards of the Great Wall, what is the matter that has disturbed you toe south?"


    "Lord, the situation is critical," a middle-aged man spoke up, his weathered face serious. "We are in the North, and I don''t know if you in the South have discovered a problem."


    "What?" Lyonel asked curiously.


    The middle-aged man walked to the window and pointed at the golden sun, saying solemnly, "The Kingdom has been through seven summers since the Gods Eye Tournament in 121 AC."


    Rhaegar''s eyebrows raised at this. Lyonel continued, "Westeros has a changeable climate, and it is not umon to have several consecutive summers."


    The climate of the continent of Westeros is unpredictable and does not follow the rules. Except for the North and Dorne, which are perpetually cold and hot, the rest of thend experiences indistinguishable seasons. Sometimes it''s spring, with warm and pleasant weather. Sometimes it''s summer, which is good for farming. In the North, there have been long winterssting more than a decade, taking the lives of many nobles andmoners.


    The middle-aged man shook his head and said bitterly, "We don''t dislike summer. The long summer has warmed the temperature of the Wall, and the Night''s Watch brothers have been much better off. But this long summer is unprecedented, and we fear what it portends for the future."


    The middle-aged man wiped his face, his eyes filled with hatred. "Seven years of summer allowed the wildlings beyond the Wall to regroup and attack us in an organized manner. We''ve lost many men."


    Rhaegar finished reading the letter and closed his eyes in deep thought. Roderick pushed the Night''s Watchman aside and said earnestly, "Your Grace, the wildlings are attacking inrge numbers, and the North needs the Kingdom''s assistance."


    Rhaegar nodded slightly, already aware of the situation from the letter. Cregan had made three requests: to plunder the dungeons of the Red Keep and send the prisoners to the Wall to serve as Night''s Watchmen, to call on the second sons of the nobility ormoners to join the ranks of the Night''s Watch, and to send an army to support the Wall against the wildlings. Additionally, he requested funds from the treasury to help with equipment and food for the Night''s Watch.


    Rhaegar thought for a moment, then gestured for Lyonel toe closer and asked, "How much did my father provide the Night''s Watch with during his reign?"


    Lyonel straightened up and replied in a serious tone, "During the reign of Viserys I, supplies were provided to the Night''s Watch three times, each time no less than 2,000 gold dragons. During the reign of the Old King, supplies were provided 17 times, and two pieces ofnd within the Great Wall were given as gifts. The brave Baelon, who served as Hand of the King, also provided supplies twice and patrolled the Wall once on a dragon."


    Roderick and the two Night''s Watch members listened, their hearts pounding. The kingdom had provided so much help to the Night''s Watch, and now they were asking the new king for more supplies. High investment, zero return. If this continues, it will be hard for the new king not to think they are greedy.


    The three of them were speechless, waiting for the new king''s decision. Rhaegar pondered for a moment and then decided with a p of his hands, "My ancestors all helped fund the Wall, so I can''t be an exception. The prisoners in the dungeon can be taken with you, and the supplies in the letter will be doubled and paid directly from the treasury."


    In any case, the Wall cannot bepromised.

 Chapter 571: Passing the Torch

    Chapter 571: Passing the Torch


    It had been a long time.


    The Night''s Watch walked out of the council hall with an encouraging smile on his face. It was clear that the expected funding had been applied for.


    Lyonel and Roderick then walked out, both with sour expressions. They nced at each other and snorted simultaneously.


    ...


    In the hall, sunlight streamed through the stained ss window, warming his arms.


    "The North, the long summer..."


    Rhaegar''s eyes were deep as he stood in front of the window, gazing into the distance. He promised to provide the Night''s Watch with enough supplies to sustain 3,000 men through a harsh winter. The prisoners in the dungeons were theirs to take, and they would receive additional iron armor and tools. However, the rest would have to be managed cheaply by the Night''s Watch. Reinforcements were out of the question. The royal family was not foolish, and Cregan would have to find a way to help himself.


    "Chirp, chirp..."


    A magpie pped into a tree, perched on a branch, and tilted its head while chirping. The sound brought Rhaegar back to the present. Reflecting on thebined strength of the royal family, he thought, ''I still don''t have enough control.''


    Since ascending the throne, the Targaryen Empire had expanded its territory: the Seven Kingdoms, the Stepstones, the Triarchy, Vntis. ver''s Bay was semi-liberated, awaiting colonization by the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, conquering and did not mean ruling it smoothly. The autonomy of the nobles in the Seven Kingdoms was too high. Each of the seven great warden houses managed their regions independently, with their own agendas.


    Rhaegar frowned slightly, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the window frame. ''Dorne, the Westends, the Iron Inds...'' he pondered. The royal authority in these three regions was extremely weak. After the war in Dorne, the people there both hated and feared the Iron Throne, with their economy and livelihood in sharp decline. For now, they posed no threat and could be governed gradually.


    The Westends and the Iron Inds were different. House Lannister was full of megalomaniacs, experts in paying lip service. Despite repeated calls for war, Lord Jason Lannister always found excuses, sending his advisers to do the dirty work. The Ironborn were even worse��a group of unproductive pirates. House Greyjoy of Pyke had a family motto: "We Do Not Sow."


    ''If I want to rule for a long time, the Seven Kingdoms must erase the roar of lions and the krakens,'' Rhaegar thought, a hint of severity shing in his eyes and a sense of crisis rising in his heart. There was discord within his family, and wolves and vultures lurked in the Seven Kingdoms and Across the Narrow Sea. If a natural disaster were to strike, how would the Targaryens respond?


    Rhaegar carefully calcted his avable forces. The only troops he could muster were the 5,000 Unsullied he had captured in Astapor. The former 3,000 Fearless were divided between King''s Landing and Lys, unable to form a formidable fighting force. The Gold Cloaks and Dragonkeepers were too few to be of much use in a skirmish. ''People are too restless to be united,'' he mused.


    Setting aside military matters, Rhaegar considered the number of dragon riders in his family who could fight. Besides himself, Daemon and Aemon could be recruited, and Aunt Rhaenys would not refuse.


    Laena and Hena were pregnant, rendering theirbat effectiveness negligible. Sunfyre was badly injured, and Aegon waspletely ruined. Rhaenyra and Daeron could barely be counted, bringing the total to six dragon riders. Including his father, and counting the children Ba and Maekar, there was one adult dragon and six young dragons, insufficient for war.


    ''The House may seem powerful, but it is still not enough to form a crushing force,'' Rhaegar sighed with regret. ''The children are still too young, and the future of the House lies with them.'' The House would only truly grow when the next generation matured.


    With this thought in mind, Rhaegar clenched his fist and said with determination, "Aegon''s wedding is on the agenda, and Aemond''s speed must be increased. I can''t do it alone." Though great ability brought great responsibility, he was about to sire a new generation, while his bastard brothers had yet to prove themselves. He felt not only a duty to his father but also to the dragon in his crotch.


    ...


    Following Rhaegar''s gaze, he gradually moved away from the Red Keep.


    The Sevenstar Cathedral stood as a magnificent new building in King''s Landing, attracting the faithful daily to convert to the new religion. The cathedral, located in the back, was a tall, domed structure positioned between Silk Street and the square. Built entirely of ck Dragonstone, it featured a sphinx and a dragon sculpture nking the main entrance.


    In the pavilion in front of the building, Maester Munkun, book in hand, stared sternly at the children before him, his pale face rigid. Baelon hung his head in frustration, while Aemon looked up, pouting in protest. The sisters Ba and Rhaena stood on either side of a listless Lyanna.


    "Oh dear," Maester Munkun sighed after a long pause. "None of you havepleted the homework assigned by the school."


    "Old bastard, I finished mine!" Aemon crossed his arms, clearly upset.


    Maester Munkun flipped through Aemon''s book and then said, "Your handwriting is good, but you haven''t done any of the handicrafts I assigned."


    "I did," Baelon interjected, raising his hand.


    Maester Munkun''s face darkened as he pulled out a scroll. "Prince, your swordsmanship ismendable, but your handwriting doesn''t reflect your skill." His voice rose suddenly, startling the children. Lyanna''s eyes filled with tears; it was her first day of ss, and she had nothing to do with the issue.


    "I''m going to find my sister..." Lyanna''s nose turned red, ready to give up, but Ba quickly covered her mouth.


    Ba and Rhaena held down the youngest child, the little radish, with serious expressions, preventing her from crying. Lyanna''s head tilted back, and sad tears streamed down her face.


    "Okay, I don''t want to waste your time," Maester Munkun said, still cultured, as he assigned more homework. "Prince Baelon, I will assign you a study partner toplete the history and mathematics homework."


    Then, looking at the clearly unconvinced Aemon, he said seriously, "In seven days, you will nt a flower in a pot and bring it to me."


    "Why?" Aemon asked. He had done the best work, perfectly ording to the books.


    "Yes, why?" Maester Munkun retorted. "You have enough wisdom, but you don''t use it well. Instead, you waste your talent."


    Many people wish to learn, devote themselves to academic research, and regret theirck of aptitude. Among the princes and princesses, Aemon had a photographic memory and the potential to be a Maester. However, the King would not allow his children to be the second Dragonless. Maester Munkun could only train Aemon''sziness and arrogance through piano, gardening, and stonework to temper his patience.


    Aemon was speechless, searching for a loophole to refute. Unfortunately, a good brain can only remember things, not create them out of thin air.


    Baelon patted his brother on the shoulder and asked, "Maester, are you going to arrange a study partner for me?"


    "Who told you?" he wondered. ''Of course, the King and Queen.''


    Maester Munkun, prepared, pped his hands. "You can rest assured that you will be satisfied."


    With the apuse, a boy emerged from the flowers outside the pavilion. He had curly brown hair, darting brown eyes, and walked with his chest puffed out and back bent. It took him three minutes to walk from the flowerbed to the pavilion.


    Maester Munkun pulled the boy over and introduced him with great fanfare, "Lyonel Tyrell, the current Lord of Highgarden, is temporarily enrolled at the school."


    Little Lyonel looked around, finding only princes and princesses. He didn''t dare to speak. Usually, the people he met were lower in status and would greet him. Suddenly, in a new environment, he struggled to adapt.


    Maester Munkun, conscientious and responsible, took Baelon, who was eyeing Lyonel, and said with a smile that hid a knife, "The Prince will be studying with this Lord, and Your Grace himself will take time to check your homework."


    The two boys were speechless.


    "It''s gettingte, so I''ll take my leave," Maester Munkun said, clutching his books under his arm. With a stern face, he departed.


    The two boys looked at each other, the atmosphere indescribably awkward. "Hmph, what a terrible Maester," Aemon huffed, turning away. As he passed the flowerbed, he paused, plucked a daisy, and continued walking.


    "Let''s go and have a look," Ba said, dragging Rhaena along with her.


    "What about me?" Lyanna asked, her eyes full of grievance.


    "Youe with me," Baelon replied, taking his sister by the hand. He turned to Lord Highgarden and said, "I''m going back to the Red Keep to read my history books. Do you want toe?"


    Little Lyonel scratched his head, hesitating. "Yes, Prince?" he asked uncertainly.


    "Oh, let''s go," Baelon sighed, bearing a burden too heavy for his age. The three of them walked out of the school gate together.


    Bang! As soon as they stepped outside, little Lyonel stumbled and nearly fell. The person who had bumped into him didn''t even look back, tightening his cor and quickening his pace.


    Baelon was dumbfounded. "Stop!" he called out. Upon closer inspection, the person was wearing a brown linen coat that looked dirty, though not particrly worn. He wasn''t very tall, had narrow shoulders, and his hair waspletely covered by a woolen felt hat. Hearing Baelon''s call, he tried to run away.


    "Stop, brat!" Arryk appeared from the side, grabbed the brown cor, and pulled off the patched felt hat. Dark brown curls spilled out, revealing a freckled face with a crooked nose. Arryk nced at the purse she had grabbed from the other''s sleeve and handed it to Lyonel. "She''s a repeat offender, Prince," he said, pressing the prisoner in front of Baelon.


    Baelon tilted his head to get a better look at the prisoner''s face, his eyes widening in surprise. Nettles shrank her shoulders and smiled awkwardly. "Sorry, I''m working to pay for my studies."


    It was night in the royal chambers of the Red Keep. Rhaegar had just seen off the delegation from the North when he noticed two figures bustling about. His wife, frowning, was packing alongside herpanion.


    Confused, Rhaegar looked to Rhaenyra, who was oiling and caring for "The Realm''s Delight" at the edge of the bed. "Are you going out?" he asked suspiciously.


    "Sort of," Rhaenyra replied, nodding slightly. She gestured toward the table. "Laena wrote to me. She''s not feeling well and asked me to take care of her."


    "Laena should ask her husband to do it," Rhaegar said, taking the letter out with some doubt. "Aegon is getting married soon. We should go together."


    Aegon, the prince of the Stepstones, held a higher status than Aemond and Daeron. As the wedding organizer, Rhaenyra''s presence was crucial.


    "That''s a shame," Rhaenyra whispered, feigning sadness. "ording to the news, Daemon has gone to ver''s Bay to lord over the people. I''m afraid I won''t be able to make it to the wedding."


    "Daemon is back in ver''s Bay?" Rhaegar''s eyes shed, catching the point.


    "I''ll take Baelon and the others with me. If Jeyne is agreeable, I can also take care of Daenerys and Anna," Rhaenyra continued. "After all, it''s time for the two sides to cultivate their rtionship."


    Rhaegar frowned. "But Aegon''s wedding ising up!"


    "And Laena needs someone to look after her," Rhaenyra insisted, looking up at him, refusing to back down.


    Rhaegar rolled his eyes, skeptical. Rhaenyra turned her head away in silence. She couldn''t stand being in the same room as Jeyne, so she might as well return to Lys.


    Of course, Laena had indeed written, mentioning that her pregnancy symptoms before the due date were not right.

 Chapter 572: Daemon’s Ambition

    Chapter 572: Daemon��s Ambition


    The night was deepening at the Red Keep, within the sept. Rows of tallow candles burned, their light dispelling the darkness. Rhaegar sat before the circr altar, his palms warmed by the candlelight.


    Boom! The sept doors opened, and Erryk announced, "Your Grace, the Prince and Princess have arrived."


    Rhaegar remained silent, his eyes fixed on the skull of Balerion above the altar.


    "Father," Baelon said, stepping forward with a puzzled expression. He was apanied by a listless Daenerys.


    "Balerion was thest living creature to have seen ancient Valyria before the Doom," Rhaegar said, turning to face his children.


    Baelon and Daenerys were both taken aback by his words and looked at the huge, ck skull.


    Rhaegar leaned forward and took one of the children''s hands in each of his, asking seriously, "Balerion is a legend. What do you see in it?"


    "Power," Baelon answered, not very confidently.


    Daenerys tilted her head and guessed, "Ancient?"


    "No!" Rhaegar shook his head. "It''s heritage. Balerion followed Aenar all the way to Dragonstone and then followed the conqueror to establish the Targaryen dynasty. He is ancient and noble, carrying the dragon''s bloodline. Just like the children before you, you are the continuation of our bloodline."


    Baelon seemed to understand, but said, "Balerion''s experience can be traced back to before the Doom when our House was already powerful. There were many dragon families stronger than the Targaryens. We were not the only ones."


    Rhaegar recalled Daenys'' dream, in which the Fourteen mes roared with dragons. The young Balerion was only one of them. It seemed he was still an outcast dragon without a master.


    "Father?" Baelon and Daenerys were puzzled and didn''t know why their father had summoned them. Before being brought here, they had been ying in their rooms when Ser Erryk suddenly came to their door.


    Rhaegar came back to his senses and asked with a smile, "I heard that you made new friends today?"


    He was, of course, asking Baelon, as Daenerys had not gone out at all. The boy''s eyes lit up as he happily shared, "I met Nettles, the woman who helped me on Driftmark."


    "Anyone else?" Rhaegar continued.


    Baelon hesitated for a moment, thinking, "Lord Lyonel is very introverted, but fortunately, he has a good personality."


    "In addition, there was a boat builder named Alyn. He was introduced by the Lord Sea Snake and assigned to serve as a squire to my brother Aemon. It is said that he apanies Aemon in his gardening and teaches him stone and wood carving."


    Rhaegar''s eyes twinkled, but he did not pursue the matter. Instead, he said sternly, "Tomorrow morning, you two will take a boat to Myr with Anna. Ser Arryk will apany you for protection."


    "Myr? Why?" Baelon asked, confused.


    Rhaegar''s mood wasplicated. With a sigh, he exined, "Your mother is returning to Lys with Aemon and Ba, and I''ve changed your travel ns."


    Rhaenyra was determined to do this, and no one could stop her. But Baelon and Daenerys would not benefit from apanying her. So, Rhaegar made ast-minute decision to send the three of them to Myr. The Triarchy had masters in Lys and Tyrosh; Myr should also have a decent ruler.


    Drawing close to Daenerys, Rhaegar held his daughter and stroked her soft cheeks. "You must look after Anna and teach her well in Myr."


    "Will Anna learn differently from us?" Daenerys asked, her purple eyes full of curiosity.


    Rhaegar smiled. "You''ll see when you get there. You can take Stormcloud with you."


    The eldest son inherits the Iron Throne, and the eldest daughter inherits the Vale. On the condition that Aemon and Maekar each inherit one of the Free Cities, Myr will be left to his second daughter, Anna. Anna and Baelon are inseparable, and the Iron Throne will remain under their control in the future.


    This will strengthen the power of the three siblings and free them from Rhaenyra''s influence over her eldest son. Rhaenyra''s prejudice is too great and can affect Baelon''s judgment.


    Baelon anxiously asks, "Must I separate from Aemon?"


    "This is only temporary. Aemon also needs to get familiar with Lys," Rhaegar tried to persuade him.


    Baelon was sullen. "He''ll miss me."


    The brothers had been inseparable since birth. Aemon had cried half the night after he was burned yesterday. Rhaegar rubbed his eldest son''s head and said, "I''m sure he''ll miss you too."


    The bond between his eldest and the second son was indeed very strong. In contrast, Maekar had been alone in Vntis for a month, and his two brothers had not been worried.


    Baelon asked reluctantly, "Why is Mother going back to Lys? We''ve only just arrived."


    "Lady Laena is not feeling well. She needs to look after her," Rhaegar replied in an official tone.


    "It''s because of what happened yesterday, isn''t it?" Baelon quickly deduced.


    Rhaegar shrugged, unable to answer. "Mother is so stubborn!" Baelon pouted.


    "I won''t deny that," Rhaegar smiled wryly. "But you must never say that again."


    Rhaenyra had always been headstrong, but she was not the only one to me. A little time apart would do her good. After Aegon''s wedding, he would consider a second expedition to the Smoking Sea in search of dragons and the Dragonhorn. He would feel much more at ease if Rhaenyra stayed in Lys.


    Baelon obeyed his father but remained upset. Rhaegar had to persuade him, "Lady Laena''s children are important. They will be your helpers in the future."


    "I don''t like it," Baelon turned his head away angrily.


    "Keep yourself in check, Baelon," Rhaegar frowned, not wanting to see a foolish boy acting on impulse. Baelon had no choice but to close his mouth in frustration.


    "Come on, I''ll teach you some skills," Rhaegar said solemnly, taking one child in each hand. "People say that dragons are thest magic of ancient Valyria, but that''s not urate."


    Baelon and Daenerys looked at him curiously.


    Rhaegar''s mind stirred, and bronze dragon scales appeared on his body, forming a full suit of armor.


    "Wow!" Baelon eximed, his spirits lifting as his jaw nearly dropped.


    "Bronze, one of the runes I have mastered," Rhaegar exined, introducing the basics of runes. "You are still young, and it''s time to learn real magic, instead of just moving the magic in your blood with binding spells."


    "Can we learn to do this?" Baelon asked, his eyes lighting up as he set aside his unhappiness to touch the bronze dragon scales with fascination. He clenched his fist and knocked on them, producing a loud sound. They felt incredibly strong.


    Rhaegarughed proudly. "Of course, you are my children."


    Without further ado, he took his children''s wrists and taught them how to mobilize the fire magic in their blood. Baelon and Daenerys studied diligently, memorizing the flow of magic. Though they couldn''t yet condense a single piece of bronze, they had taken the first step.


    "Father, this feels amazing," Baelon said, clenching his fists and gathering all his strength.


    "You are still too young," Rhaegar reminded him, rubbing his head. "Don''t use it recklessly, just remember it."


    "Yes!" Baelon promised.


    Daenerys, standing nearby, blushed as she tried to summon the fire magic in her blood. After a while, she let out a long sigh of relief.


    Rhaegar, amused, took a dragon horn dagger from his breast pocket and held it out to the siblings. "Look, I borrowed it from your grandfather."


    "A dragon horn dagger!" Baelon eximed, taking the dagger and examining it as if it were a treasure.


    At the beginning of the House, there were four Valyrian steel items: the swords "ckfyre" and "Dark Sister," the Conqueror''s Crown, and the Dragonhorn Dagger of Aenar the Exile.


    Rhaegar touched the rippling steel de of the dagger in front of the two children, and a me quickly spread.


    Zi! The temperature rose sharply, and Baelon let go of the dagger with a "sizzle."


    "Be careful," Daenerys said, her face tightening as she took her brother''s hand and blew on the burn.


    "He''s fine," Rhaegar said, his tone calm. He picked up the dagger and ced it in front of the siblings. "Look closely. What''s on it?"


    Baelon nced at his sister and then at the dagger, which was burning red and emitting white smoke. The surface seemed hollow, with several lines of tiny characters appearing.


    Baelon carefully observed and tranted each word: "The Song of Ice and Fire..."


    ...


    ver''s Bay. Meereen, the ruins of the square.


    "Roar..." A golden dragony on the ground, its body covered in ckened burns, moaning weakly. In the moonlight, a figure with silver hair stood.


    "My Prince, the fleet is ready." Grey Worm approached, his head bowed, speaking stiffly. It was clear he was reluctant.


    "Prepare sufficient supplies. The Good Masters of Yunkai will pay for them." Daemon did not turn his head, his gaze fixed on the moonlit sky.


    "Yes!" Grey Worm took a deep breath and silently withdrew. If he could have fought, he would not have wanted to serve. Thinking of this, he nced at the outer edge of the square.


    "Roar..." The Blood Wyrmy on the ground, its snake-like neck stretched out, its ferocious dragon''s mouth chewing on a goat. Every member of the Targaryen family was like an immovable god to ordinary people.


    "s!" Daemon ced his hands on his stomach, a hint of mncholy on his stern face. He had been pushed aside by his rtives for an impulse.


    "My ancestors all had their own supreme honor." Daemon sighed to the sky, stroked the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, and his eyes grew even gloomier. He had been banished from King''s Landing, stripped of the honor that belonged to the Targaryens. This situation was not new to him, but this time, he had no idea how to return to his family. His family had always been the most important thing in his heart.


    Daemon took a deep breath and rubbed his face vigorously with both hands, as if trying to make himself more sober. A letter from Vntis had arrived, informing him that Laena was pregnant again. Daemon was more surprised than happy to hear the news. He had already decided that Ba would be his heir and had set aside the White Worm for that purpose. Now Laena was pregnant, possibly with a boy. How fickle life is.


    Daemon nced at the badly injured Sunfyre and thought of the unborn child. ''My promise still stands. I will catch you a wild dragon,'' he whispered. ording to the original n, after conquering Vntis and ver''s Bay, he would explore the Smoking Sea with Rhaegar and the Sea Snake.


    Now that their rtionship has broken down, his n copsed. But Daemon does not want to give up and ns to try it alone.


    The Smoking Sea has many buried treasures. His nephew Rhaegar once found a secret treasure in it and brought out a hatching egg. The wild dragon Morghul also emerged from the Smoking Sea. Daemon believes that the treasures may be avable to everyone, including the young dragons in the Smoking Sea. In this way, he hopes to regain his lost honor.


    "Follow me to inspect the fleet, Caraxes!" Daemon''s eyes shed, and he turned to face the scarlet dragon.


    "Roar..." Caraxes'' pupils narrowed as it swallowed the burnt goat in a few bites. It then pped itsrge wings and soared into the sky.

 Chapter 573: Alicent’s Return to King’s Landing

    Chapter 573: Alicent��s Return to King��s Landing


    The next day, the weather was fine.


    King''s Landing, Mud Gate.


    "Roar!"


    A slender silver dragon soared through the sky, flying over ckwater Bay and crying out. Rhaegar stood on the dock, watching a royal ship slowly sail away. A few small figures stood at the end of the ship, hundreds of meters away. Baelon, dressed in ck, held Lyanna''s hand as she looked back at him with reluctance. The three of them were heading to Myr, leaving their parents'' sight for the first time.


    "Prince, the sea is rough. You should go inside and rest," said Arryk thoughtfully. He took off his white robe and put it on the Prince and Princess.


    Baelon rubbed his nose and said, "Wait a minute. Dany is still riding her dragon."


    "Brother," Lyanna''s eyes were red, and she leaned her head against Baelon''s chest, feeling safe and secure like a kitten.


    Baelon rubbed her head andforted her seriously: "Don''t be afraid, we are the real dragons."


    "Roar..."


    A young dragon''s roar came from behind, as if in response to his words. Arryk turned around and frowned. He saw Nettles, dressed in a rough hemp outfit, rubbing her dark, crooked nose and holding a cage with a young dragon in it. Seeing that someone had noticed her, she pretended to be calm: "I''m just looking. All Dragonkeepers go through this."


    A day earlier, she had been an intern Maester at the Royal Academy, "working and studying." Unfortunately, she was caught in the process of "studying" and was expelled from the Academy. Baelon took pity on her and recruited her into the ranks of the Dragonkeepers.


    "Well, the journey by sea is long, and it''s good to have someone to keep Vermaxpany." Baelon stepped in to smooth things over, taking care of themoner girl who had helped him.


    "Pfft, hmph." Nettles, a carefree person, gave the "little brother" a flirtatious wink before slipping away with the iron cage. Arryk watched with a frown that could wring a fly to death.


    ...


    The ship gradually disappeared from view, and Rhaegar regretted averting his eyes. Nearby, a vessel bearing the Seahorse g was moored, its sailors on high alert as they loaded cargo. Rhaenyra, dressed in a long red skirt, was speaking face-to-face with the serious-looking Sea Snake.


    "Thank you for escorting our fleet to King''s Landing to Lys, ," she said.


    "I don''t deserve the praise, Your Grace," the Sea Snake replied, crossing his arms. He looked modest, though pride flickered in his eyes. "The war has just ended, and there are many pirates still roaming around the Stepstones. You must be careful."


    "Isn''t there a naval garrison on the Stepstones?" Rhaenyra asked, puzzled.


    "There is, but their fighting power diminishes when they go to sea," the Sea Snake exined confidently. "Vntis and ver''s Bay are already gathering ces for mercenaries and wandering knights. With the Triarchy pirates led by Tyrosh, the forces of the Stepstones are insufficient."


    Only a few years had passed since the Targaryen dynasty had conquered both sides of the Narrow Sea. The Free Cities and ver''s Bay, with their deep-rooted rule, had formed their own armed groups. After the fall of the Triarchy, these mercenary groups had redirected their efforts towards Vntis and ver''s Bay. Now that these two had been conquered and destroyed, the mercenaries had nowhere to go. Cutting off their ess to wealth naturally led to trouble.


    Rhaenyra listened carefully, asionally ncing at Rhaegar, who was looking out at the bay. "I will take Syrax, Moondancer, and the Trickster with me as part of thebat force," she said casually.


    Laena had originally been responsible for eradicating pirates. With it''s rider pregnant, Vhagar could not go alone.


    "Just in case, it would be better to send a warship for protection," the Sea Snake suggested generously. He called over a young man with a sideways nce. "Addam,e and meet Your Grace."


    "Yes, Lord," Addam replied, dropping what he was doing to approach.


    The Sea Snake ced a hand on Addam''s shoulder and smiled confidently. "Addam of Hull, one of the best sailors in my fleet, has won many battles."


    Rhaenyra looked him over, her eyes shing with memories. "You''re the shipwright who saved Rhaena and Maekar?"


    "Yes, Your Grace," Addam said, embarrassed, his hands betraying his excitement.


    Rhaenyra smiled slightly, her eyes flicking between Addam and the Sea Snake. "I haven''t thanked you for that, so I owe you a favor."


    Addam beamed, his emotions clear on his face. "I will definitely protect Your Grace and the young princes."


    "Okay, enough of this nonsense," the Sea Snake interrupted cautiously. "After you arrive in Lys, Your Grace, please take good care of Laena."


    "Don''t worry," Rhaenyra promised, distracted by Rhaegar, who was turning to leave. She wanted to say goodbye properly, but Rhaegar didn''t even look in her direction as he left with the Kingsguard. Rhaenyra was in a daze, her eyes unfocused.


    "Stop! Leave him alone!" Suddenly, Ba''s voice rang out from the other side. Rhaenyra froze and looked sideways. Ba was furious, her arms outstretched to protect Aemon, who stood his ground. Maris, dressed in a pale yellow dress with her hair tied in a it, looked miserable, her chest heaving.


    "Aemon doesn''t want your gift. Don''te any closer!" Ba red at Maris.


    Aemon''s face was crumpled in fear, and he cowered behind Ba. Though the news of their engagement had not yet spread, their rtionship was closer than ever.


    Maris held a delicate gift box in her hand, a dagger iid with rubies inside. Her face darkened. "I just wanted to give the Prince a farewell gift."


    Bang! Ba flipped the box over and, like a hen protecting her chicks, warned loudly, "Put away your evil thoughts, you wicked woman!"


    Aemon nodded repeatedly. "Yes, yes!"


    Maris''s chest heaved with anger, and she opened her mouth to scold her.


    "What do you want, Lady Maris?" Rhaenyra approached, her eyes piercing as she looked at the fallen dagger.


    Maris hesitated, then forced a smile. She picked up the hem of her skirt and quickly fled the scene. Rhaenyra stared coldly after her, seeing through her scheme. Maris had tried to seduce Rhaegar before, and now she was trying to seduce her sons. ''What a dream!''


    "Well done," Rhaenyra praised Ba, who was proud of her sess and raised her chin.


    "Come with me!" Ba put her arm around Aemon''s neck and, despite his resistance, followed her foster mother.


    Aemon felt tears streaming down his cheeks. ''They are all bad women,'' he thought.


    ...


    As the ships left the dock one by one, Rhaegar returned to the Red Keep. He entered Maegor''s Holdfast and went straight up the stairs.


    "Brother," Hena suddenly called out to him from a corner.


    "Why are you here?" Rhaegar stopped and saw her standing alone on the edge of the open-air balcony. She was wearing a blue dress, her silver hair flowing naturally. It looked like she had been waiting for a long time.


    Hena, with her hands on her stomach, looked a little confused. "The delegation from the North has left, and Lord Lyman hasined to me about theck of funds in the treasury."


    "He wants you to persuade me to spend less money, right?" Rhaegar guessed, then joked, "I wish every Master of Coin was as conscientious as him, spending every halfpenny twice over."


    Hena nodded in agreement. "Yes, he said you were spending money recklessly."


    Rhaegar looked at her and, thinking of old Lyman''s desperate plea for help, sighed. ''He really knows how toin. Even enemies don''tin so directly,'' he thought.


    There was a moment of silence. Rhaegar took Hena''s hand and, with his other hand on her stomach, asked curiously, "Are you feeling unwell?"


    Hena had been given a leave for her pregnancy. "I''m fine, just as usual." She tilted her head and said, as if possessed, "We need more fire."


    Rhaegar was momentarily stunned.


    ....


    The summer passed and early autumn arrived.


    King''s Landing.


    The sun was high in the sky, its scorching rays beating down, causing people to sweat profusely. The Dragon Gate, the majestic city gate, opened.


    Gurgle, gurgle...


    On the dry road, two carriages rolled over the grass in front of and behind each other. The former was escorted by three Fearless in ck armor, with three red dragon banners flying. The curtain was lifted, revealing a head. Alicent nced around at the Fearless, hoping to see the caravan behind her. She hade from Harrenhal.


    The other caravan was much longer and more impressive. Most importantly, the knight carrying the banner with a green topless tower was from House Hightower.


    "Is Selene up there?" Alicent asked, her eyes wide with curiosity. She then quietly retreated into the carriage. She had only been allowed to return to King''s Landing after her eldest son Aegon married her niece Selene.


    "I wonder how my children are doing." Alicent sped her hands together and closed her tired eyes, whispering a prayer: "Seven Gods, please protect us."


    ...


    Red Keep.


    Lyonel was busy directing the servants as they prepared for the wedding ceremony. From the Throne Hall to the Banquet Hall, from the Red Keep''s front courtyard to the backyard''s Godswood, everything was meticulously in ce.


    It was noon, and the guests had arrived, the wedding proceeding smoothly. Rhaegar sat on the Iron Throne, watching as Aegon and Selenepleted a traditional Westerosi wedding ceremony, apanied by the reading of a holy brother.


    The holy brother, with a stern expression, intoned, "Prince Aegon, please cover the bride with your cloak."


    Aegon, avoiding further eye contact, slowly removed his cloak and ced it on Selene''s shoulders. In Westeros, the groom''s cloak symbolizes that the bride will live under her husband''s protection and enjoy the rights of a wife. Afterward, Selene kissed him, marking the official end of the ceremony.


    "Oh!" Daeron led the way, followed by Aegon''s friends, who spirited the unsuspecting Selene away. ording to tradition, the wedding night was an indispensable part of the celebration, and Aegon was no exception.


    Maris led a group of nobledies, who almost stripped Aegon of his pants.


    "Hahaha, well done!" Rhaegarughed heartily, pointing at Aegon, who was surrounded by women. With a mischievous smile, he urged, "Quick, don''t let him run away!"


    "No, no, no!" Aegon protested, pretending to be dignified, holding his belt with one hand while trying to fend off the advances with the other. He couldn''t suppress a smile. "I really want to see it. Let''s do it in private."


    The nobledies were all aflutter, unsure how to proceed. After a moment, Aegon let out a scream, "Who pinched me?!"


    Rhaegar, hearing themotion,ughed even more heartily.


    Traditional weddings in Westeros were different, often marked by the boisterousness and mischief of the aristocracy. Fortunately, the two ceremonies he had chosen were ancient rites from Valyria, avoiding the filth and aggression typical of Westerosi customs.


    At his wedding with Jenny, the boisterous wedding pranks segment was stingily canceled.

 Chapter 574: Sheepstealer vs. Black Goat

    Chapter 574: Sheepstealer vs. ck Goat


    The wedding was a half-serious, half-yful affair, with guests all in high spirits. Soon, cheerful music began to y, and the noblemen started looking for their dancing partners.


    "Rhaegar, where''s my wedding gift?" Aegon called out, pushing his way over, his chest puffed out and lipstick smudges all over his face.


    Rhaegar, who was chatting with his father, Viserys, pped his hands and said disdainfully, "Wipe your face. It looks like you just came back from a brothel."


    Aegon, with a smug expression, sighed deeply, "These nobledies are much hotter than prostitutes."


    It was a pity his little chase was almost thwarted by an unscrupulous woman.


    "Your Grace," two Dragonkeepers slowly approached, carrying an incubator that looked like a furnace. In front of Aegon, Rhaegar opened the lid, revealing a dark purple dragon egg in the thick white smoke. He smiled lightly and said, "Happy wedding, brother."


    "This dragon egg is quite beautiful," Aegon said, his eyes burning with desire as he reached out to touch the egg. He yanked his hand away in pain. "Is it the egg of Dreamfyre or Silverwing?" he asked. Such a beautiful dragon egg will surely hatch without a hitch. ''When the timees, it will be a contest between it and Sunfyre to see who is more majestic and handsome'', he thought.


    Rhaegar put down the lid and smiled without saying a word. Viserys, leaning on his crutch, watched his two sons get along harmoniously and breathed a sigh of relief. "This is the egg of Vhagar, which Rhaegar found in Dragonmont."


    "That old dragon''s egg?" Aegon was taken aback and asked the servant to carry the incubator back to the bridal chamber. Vhagar had stoppedying eggs many years ago, and every egg from it was precious.


    Rhaegar still smiled, his head tilted in a mysterious way. Aegon was left to fill in the nks. It wasn''t that the eggs of Dreamfyre and Silverwing weren''t good, but there was another reason. Vhagar''s eggs had been stored in Dragonmont for many years and were about to expire. Just like this traditional wedding in Westeros.


    As a good brother, Aegon had to take on the burden of showing goodwill to the nobles and hatching the eggs. The three of them had a great time together, and Aegon performed a ton of drinking on the spot.


    After finishing a bottle of sweet fruit wine, Aegon''s cheeks were flushed, and he leaned on Rhaegar, muttering, "Rhaegar, when will you find Sunfyre a medicine?" Sunfyre was so badly injured that he was still in Meereen. Without his dragonpanion, Aegon felt like a cat scratching itself.


    Rhaegar''s eyes shed, and he replied, "Don''t worry, it won''t be long." Before exploring the Smoking Sea, he had nned to make a round trip to the continent of Sothoryos. Thest time he encountered a wild dragon in the Sea of Dorne, he will never be at ease until he had found out the truth.


    "Okay, you''re the one who said it." Aegon''s eyes widened, and he smiled foolishly.


    Just then, a figure barged in.


    "Viserys."


    Alicent, in a green dress, entered with her fingers sped together. She spoke in a formal tone, "Are you okay?"


    Aegon looked up at her and said nkly, "Mother~"


    "Aegon, you''ve grown up," Alicent said, ncing at her husband before looking back at her drunk eldest son. She reminisced, "In the blink of an eye, you''re already married."


    "Mmm," Aegon nodded forcefully,ining, "But I don''t like that Hightower''s woman."


    Alicent''s expression froze, and she identally broke a fingernail. "Aegon, you''ve had too much to drink. Go and rest for a while."


    Viserys patted his second son on the back to save his wife. Aegon looked around, muttering in dissatisfaction, "Fine, I''ll go find Daena. I''m marrying her next month."


    After he left, Alicent''s expression softened. Viserys said nothing, gesturing to a nearby seat and whispering, "Sit."


    "Thank you." Alicent smiled awkwardly and then sat down, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. She had not returned to King''s Landing for many years, living in seclusion at Harrenhal and serving the Seven. Now that she was suddenly back in the public eye, she felt uncertain about her role as Queen Mother.


    The atmosphere at the table had be dull since her arrival. Alicent looked around, her eyes settling on Rhaegar. She hesitated and asked, "Hena wrote to me. She''s pregnant."


    "Yes," Rhaegar said, taking a sip of wine and appearing calm and collected. "You''re going to be a grandmother."


    ''Hmm... It''s hard to distinguish between a grandmother and a great-grandmother in this house,'' she thought. Alicent lowered her head in disappointment, unable to ept it. Her thumb bled from where she had been picking at it. After fighting Rhaenyra for half her life, she found herself in this situation.


    After a long time, Alicent reluctantly epted the reality and several times wanted to speak but stopped. She wanted to stay in the Red Keep. Harrenhal was a good ce, but it was not a ce for humans. Being confined in the chapel all day and watched by holy sisters every moment was almost driving her crazy.


    "That..." Alicent gritted her teeth, swallowing her pride.


    "You can stay at the Red Keep," Rhaegar interrupted her. "Hena needs someone to look after her. She wants you to stay."


    "Really?" Alicent was stunned, unable to believe what she had heard.


    Rhaegar nodded, calmly saying, "Stay. Rhaenyra is not in King''s Landing. The Red Keep needs a capable woman to run it." Hena was a little scatterbrained and could not be expected to manage the court. Jeyne had the ability and ideas, but she would eventually return to the Vale.


    "Okay, I will definitely take good care of everyone," Alicent said, smiling, slightly freeing herself from her humble position.


    Rhaegar didn''t care either. House Hightower was temporarily managed by Lyonel Hightower, who was only twelve years old. Otto was exiled, and it was unknown whether he was dead or alive. Alicent could not stir up any trouble in the court.


    "Oh, I just saw Daeron. Why isn''t Aemond here?" Alicent hesitated slightly and asked, "Aemond should also be getting married soon." Harrenhal was cut off from the rest of the world, and she had not yet heard of Cassandra''s death.


    Rhaegar''s eyes flickered slightly, uncertain. The Kingsguard, Cole Criston, had left for overseas half a month ago. There should be news by now.


    ...


    Essos, Qohor.


    "Roar!" A shrill roar echoed through the clouds as the ugly, brownish-ck dragon soared through the sky.


    "Dragon!..."


    "Hide in the caves!"


    Suddenly, the Free City, nestled in the mountains, erupted into chaos and confusion.


    Aemondughed heartily, his lips curling into a cruel smile as he watched the terrified civilians below flee. "Dracarys, Sheepstealer!"


    "Roar!" Sheepstealer scanned the area with bloodshot eyes, roared, and swooped down, spitting dragonfire at a tall ck goat statue in the center of the city.


    Boom!


    Dragonfire rained down like molten mud, burning holes in the statue and causing it to copse.


    "Run!"


    "Ah..."


    The civilians screamed in agony, their bodies wrapped in the earthy brown dragonfire, which gradually consumed them.


    Qohor revered the "ck Goat" as their deity. The destruction of the ck Goat statue severely damaged their faith.


    "Roar!" Sheepstealer sniffed the air, locked onto a direction, and pounced like a cat on a mouse.


    Boom! The dragonfire destroyed the wooden fence at the back of the mountain.


    "Baa-baa~~" The sheep pen was destroyed, and the goats fled, bleating and running from the dragonfire.


    "Roar!" Sheepstealer, full of excitement, destroyed more sheep pens, driving hundreds of goats out of the pasture.


    "Well, let''s have a feast," Aemond said, his one eye glinting as he looked back at the Forest of Qohor. He did not stop the Mud Dragon from acting on its own. He awaited reinforcements topletely capture the Free City.


    "Roar!" Sheepstealer roared ferociously, burning one goat after another, andnded to feast on them. The surrounding herdsmen and guards saw this and slowly backed away in panic, not daring to interfere.


    ...


    <strong>Forest of Qohor</strong>


    Clop, clop, clop...


    "All troops, speed up! Prepare siege equipment!"


    Cole, d in silver armor and a white robe, rode a heavily armored war horse, energeticallymanding the troops. In the lush primeval forest, the army, a motley mix of people numbering no less than 10,000, advanced. Two gs were particrly conspicuous in the front row.


    Otto, looking solemnly at the Free Cities of Greystone visible in the distance, said, "Aemond has started!"


    Behind him, dozens of guards, all wearing armor with the green-on-white Hightower emblem, stood ready. "That kid is too impulsive. We have to hurry and clean up the mess for him."


    Bartimos Celtigar followed closely behind, leading a hundred-man guard. The old man, with sparse silver hair and green eyes that shed with brilliance, rode a white war horse. Unfortunately, his hand had been cut off, so he could only use his feet to step on the stirrups. "Let''s go!"


    Cole, supported by the two old foxes, shouted out the military order. Behind the main force, a 3,000-strong mercenary army and a 5,000-strong Dothraki cavalry followed closely.


    <strong>After a long time. Qohor, the city gates.</strong>


    The 3,000 Sellswords lined up in perfect formation, pushing out siege engines and catapults. "Ooh~~" The Dothraki cavalry surrounded the city on horseback, brandishing their curved swords and squealing.


    Cole, with his usual righteousness, asked, "Do we wait for the Prince''s orders or attack the city?"


    "Not yet." Otto, with deep eyes and wrinkles around the corners of his eyes, thought for a moment and said, "Qohor has a weak defense and only the standing army of the Unsullied."


    Bartimos looked at the ck-armored soldiers on the city walls and made up his mind: "We''ll burn the city with the dragon, then im we''ll spare their lives if they surrender, and trick themoners into opening the city gates."


    Cole frowned and hesitated, saying, "This goes against the honor of knights."


    "Haha, but this is war." Bartimos smiled slyly and said proudly, "The purpose of our trip is to achieve the greatest reward with the least sacrifice."


    He had married his daughter to the one-eyed Aemond. For this, he almost fell out with the Sea Snake. For the sake of a dragon, he used all his financial resources to support his one-eyed son-inw and establish an exclusive territory.


    Qohor, one of the Free Cities, not only has the mostplete smithing techniques in the world, but also boasts wool, silk,ce, and other expensive fabrics, which are cheaper than those in Myr. Taking down Qohor will bring a steady stream of wealth.


    ...


    <strong>Back Mountain Ranch</strong>


    "Roar!" Sheepstealery on the ground, surrounded by scorched earth and the charred bones of goats.


    Swish! An army of 800 Unsullied, armed with spears and round shields, slowly approached.


    "Attack!" Themander, whose helmet had two spikes, shouted loudly and threw his spear first. The Unsullied followed suit, hurling their spears in a dense formation.


    From a distance, Aemond watched,ughing mockingly. "You''re digging your own grave."


    Boom! Sheepstealer spread its wings and stood up, its massive body shaking the ground.


    ng! The spears rained down on its thick, muddy scales.


    p!


    Sheepstealer raised its eyes in mockery and, with a p of its wings, knocked away arge number of spears. For a dragon in its prime, human attacks were like tickling��nothing more than a joke.


    "Burn them all, Sheepstealer!" Aemond''s one eye darkened as he gave the order coldly.


    "Roar!"


    Without giving the Unsullied army a chance to react, Sheepstealer took off with a running start, and mud-like dragonfire spread across the sky.


    "Ahhh!"


    "Retreat, counterattack!" The Unsullied army suffered heavy losses from the dragonfire. The terrifiedmander, still not daring to retreat, drew a second spear from his back.

 Chapter 575: Searching for the Wild Dragon

    Chapter 575: Searching for the Wild Dragon


    In the blink of an eye, several days had passed, and King''s Landing had returned to its usual state. The Silk Street, Flea Bottom, and other notorious areas buzzed with gossip about the prince''s wedding. Rumors swirled that a second wedding might be on the horizon.


    Over ckwater Bay, a cobalt blue dragon roared as it soared across the vast, dark sea. It soon glided over Hull on the ind of Driftmark, circling a few times before heading toward The Gullet.


    Meanwhile, on Dragonstone, the Cannibal stood on Dragonmont, its ck wings spread wide. With a thunderous roar, itunched itself into the sky, crushing the cliff beneath its hind legs. Its massive body blotted out the sun, sending fishermen on the beach into a panic.


    The two dragons descended slowly,nding in parallel��one behind the Stone Drum Tower, followed closely by the other.


    ...


    The Stone Drum Tower, beneath whichy the underground greenhouse, was dimly lit by the torch Daeron held in his hand. He nced around anxiously before speaking, "Brother, are we really going to set off?"


    Click!


    Rhaegar, standing by the wall, skillfully opened the incubator and carefully counted the dragon eggs inside. He set down the undamaged eggs with a satisfied nod. Then, turning his attention to a pile of fossilized eggs in the corner, he picked up a dark red one, and replied calmly, "Aegon has been pestering me. How can I refuse?"


    Weighing the stone-covered dragon egg in his hand, Rhaegar added, "This is the one I''ve been looking for."


    Daeron��s eyes lit up with excitement as he leaned in closer. "Is this the fossilized dragon egg you found in Sothoryos?"


    "Let''s get going. We''ll be back in a few days," Rhaegar said nonchntly, tossing the egg aside before pping his hands. "That way, Aegon won��t keep thinking about it."


    "Good." Daeron carefully cradled the fossilized egg like a diligent Maester. As they exited the greenhouse, the Dragonkeepers of Dragonstone were already waiting.


    Rhaegar��s expression grew serious as he issuedmands in High Valyrian, "Iragaxys and the Grey Ghost will return to Dragonstone and guard the eggs on Dragonmont."


    "As you wish," the Dragonkeeper responded, lowering his staff and bowing respectfully.


    Rhaegar paused, considering his next words, before adding, "Move the Wyvern eggs out of the greenhouse and try them on Dragonmont."


    The Dragonkeeper hesitated but then nodded. "Yes, Your Grace."


    Though familiar with Wyverns due to their profession, the Dragonkeepers knew that hatching these creatures��natives of Sothoryos��had proven difficult in Westeros. So far, none of the eggs had hatched. Rhaegar��s mention of it was a subtle reminder for the Dragonkeepers to give the matter more attention.


    As dragons aged, their appetites grew. The House��s dragons had multiplied from just a few to a dozen, and each one required a substantial amount of fresh meat, which was bing increasingly expensive. If the Wyverns could be sessfully bred in Westeros, they would provide a new, high-quality food source for the dragons.


    After Rhaegar and Daeron departed, the Dragonkeepers entered the greenhouse and began lifting out a nest of colorful, round eggs that resembled stones.


    Click!


    One of the ck-spotted dragon eggs at the bottom quietly and almost imperceptibly cracked open.


    ...


    King''s Landing, Red Keep.


    "This is the monthly expenditure for the Dragonpit, Your Grace," Lyman said, speaking slowly and methodically as he held a ledger in his hands.


    Hena sat behind her desk, her expression serious as she toyed with a light blue stone ball. "I''ll review it carefully," she replied.


    "Your Grace," Lyman began hesitantly, despite having lost his sight many years ago, his instincts still sharp. "When the king is away, did he inform Prince Aegon to govern in his stead?"


    Given the little princess��s usual demeanor, it was hard not to wonder if she had lost her wits.


    Hena tilted her head, her voice full of confidence. "Aegon is with his bride. He likely won��t being."


    "Well, you''re probably right," Lyman murmured, somewhat taken aback. He set a few pages from the ledger on the desk before leaving with a heavy heart, silently praying there were no errors in the ounts.


    Hena nced at the papers and began flipping through them. "The cost of cattle and sheep, the Dragonkeepers�� food and supplies..." she muttered to herself, the quiet council hall echoing with her soft voice, asionally punctuated by a few approving "mm-hmm''s."


    Knock, knock!


    The sound jolted Hena out of her thoughts. She looked up, surprised.


    Alicent stood in the doorway, holding a tray with a bowl of chicken soup. "I��m not hungry yet," Hena said softly, closing the ount book. ''This is tooplicated. I need to take it slowly,'' she thought.


    "Drink some. It''s good for your health," Alicent urged, stepping forward to ce the bowl on the table. "And try to cut back on the Maester''s pregnancy tonic. A bnced diet is more effective."


    Hena frowned, her voice tinged with doubt. "I don''t drink that stuff." She scooped a bit of the chicken soup with the spoon, then put it down, her appetite absent. ''I don��t want to drink this either.''


    Alicent sighed, her heart heavy with concern over her daughter��s detached nature. "I still can��t believe you��re really pregnant with his child."


    "What��s so strange about it?" Hena asked, her hand resting on her stomach. Her eyes took on a contemtive look as she added firmly, "My me can only be passed on when I''m by his side."


    Alicent��s face tightened, her thoughts elsewhere, as she habitually tuned out her daughter��s words.


    "What are you looking at?" Alicent asked, changing the subject as she moved to her daughter''s side and opened the ledger. "I don��t know how to run a kingdom, but managing daily expenses should be straightforward."


    Hena tilted her head, a trace of confusion on her face.


    Alicent scribbled a note at the end of the bill, seemingly offhand, "Rhaenyra isn��t at the pce, so for now, you are the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You''ll have to get used to these responsibilities sooner orter."


    "She wille back," Hena said quietly.


    "Really?" Alicent murmured, lowering her eyes as she ced a hand on her daughter��s shoulder. "Who knows?" she added wistfully.


    ...


    One day and nightter, over the Stepstones...


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal dove at breakneck speed, its powerful hind legs skimming the sea''s surface and sending a massive wave crashing up, towering over a dozen meters high. Tessarion clung to its back like a small cobalt-blue butterfly, struggling to keep pace.


    Rhaegar nced back and shouted, "Let''s rest for the night on Bloodstone Ind!"


    "Good!" Daeron, drenched in sweat, replied with relief. They had entered the southern reaches of the Narrow Sea, nearing the borders of the Summer Sea. The scorching sun was enough to make even a Targaryen feel like a Vryon.


    Rhaegar smiled and patted the Cannibal��s back, signaling the dragon to slow down. Cannibal was so fast that the young Tessarion could barely keep up. If not for waiting on Daeron and his dragon, Cannibal could have crossed the distance between Dragonstone and the Stepstones in half a day.


    Rhaegar spotted the outline of Bloodstone Ind in the distance. "That��s it, Cannibal," he said.


    "Roar!"


    Tessarion was the first to respond, neighing excitedly as it pped its cobalt blue wings with renewed energy, eager tond. After half a day of flying, the two goats it had devoured that morning were long digested.


    "Slow down, Tessarion," Daeron urged, startled by the sudden burst of speed, as he tried to calm the dragon''s eager spirit.


    Rhaegar shook his head with augh. This journey to the continent of Essos was as much about tracking a wild dragon as it was about gathering Wyverns as food for Sunfyre.


    Thest report suggested the wild dragon was enormous, but its exact size remained unknown. While the Cannibal could likely hold its own in a fight, there was always the risk of the wild dragon escaping with injuries. Bringing Daeron and Tessarion along could tip the scales at a critical moment.


    "Roar..."


    Before Rhaegar could turn, a piercing roar echoed from the direction of the archipgo.


    "Dragon!" Rhaegar��s pulse quickened as he quickly scanned the horizon.


    Cannibal��s green eyes darkened as it shot upward, breaking throughyers of clouds and mist. Below, a small ind covered in lush vegetation came into view. Severalrge ships were hastily weighing anchor, their decks swarming with activity.


    "Roar..."


    A pale silver dragon glided past, its scales shimmering in the wind, its sharp vertical pupils locked onto the humans aboard the ships.


    "Dragon!"


    "Release the arrows! Drive it away!"


    Arge group of foreign mercenaries, d in armor, poured out onto the deck, drawing their crossbows and aiming at the dragon in the sky. But provoking the beast was a grave mistake. The dragon''s eyes shed with fury, and its temper red.


    Seasmoke, enraged by the challenge, dove toward the lead ship, unleashing a torrent of orange and silver dragonfire.


    Boom!


    Dragonfire rained down from the sky, engulfing the deck in mes and decimating the Sellswords below.


    Roar...


    As the panicked cries of the Sellswords echoed, Seasmoke darted through the air with deadly precision, unleashing its fiery wrath without missing a target. A one-sided massacre had begun.


    Hoo!


    Cannibal swooped in, its massive wings blotting out the sun and casting a shadow over the inds below.


    "Ahhh!"


    A group of Sellswords, aze and desperate, looked up in terror as they fled, their faces drained of color.


    "Seasmoke!?"


    Rhaegar��s eyes widened as he recognized the pale silver dragon wreaking havoc below. A moment of realization struck him��no wonder Seasmoke had been missing from Dragonstone and Driftmark; it had flown to the Stepstones. The dragon was still within the dangerous territory where wild dragons prowled.


    Roar...


    Seasmoke obliterated thest ship before catching sight of the shadowy form of the Cannibal overhead. Rhaegar, his mind racing, intended to send Seasmoke back to Dragonstone.


    Roar...


    Sensing the overwhelming presence of the Cannibal, Seasmoke hesitated for a brief moment before plunging toward the other end of the ind, fleeing in the direction of Cape Wrath.


    "This dragon!" Rhaegar muttered, shaking his head in disbelief as Seasmoke��s figure soon vanished over the horizon. He had no intention of pursuing it and sighed, "Let it go."


    A dragon as loyal as Seasmoke was a rare find in this world. Who knows, perhaps some worthy soul would tame it again one day.


    Just then, Daeron, riding Tessarion, flew in, circling the burning fleet. "There��s a ship from the Citadel!" he called out in astonishment.


    Rhaegar turned at the sound, ignoring the smuggler''s ship that was still aze. His gaze settled on a sunken ship beached on the ind''s shore, its distinctive sails unmistakable.


    "It really is the Citadel," Rhaegar murmured, tilting his head in thought.


    ...


    Lys.


    "Roar..."


    A thunderous roar echoed through the depths of the Dragonpit, reverberating with a note of inexplicable sorrow.


    Boom!


    The Bronze Gate creaked open slowly. Rhaenyra, draped in a flowing red cape, walked gracefully into the Dragonpit.


    "Mother, Your Grace," a group of children called out as they ran over, interrupting their y to greet her.


    Rhaenyra smiled warmly, gently waving them off. "Go on and y. I��m here to see Laena."


    As the children scampered away, Rhaenyra turned and spotted Laena sitting on the ground, leaning against the edge of the Dragonpit. Concern etched across her face, she approached. "The Maester said you should be resting in the Topless Tower," Rhaenyra said softly, bending down to help her up.


    Laena had grown noticeably thinner. She looked up, her eyes vacant, as if the very essence of her spirit had been drained away. Dressed in a simple white gown, her face bare of any adornment, she appeared almost ghostly in the dim light of the Dragonpit, her presence unsettling against the shadows.

 Chapter 576: The White Worm With No Way Out

    Chapter 576: The White Worm With No Way Out


    "Laena!" Rhaenyra��s voice was filled with concern. "You really should be resting."


    Laena had been consumed with worry ever since Daemon��s banishment from King��s Landing. If she continued this way, she might manage, but the baby she carried could not.


    Laena rubbed her forehead, trying to muster some strength. "I��m fine. Trust me."


    "I can��t trust you in this condition," Rhaenyra replied, pulling her into a protective embrace.


    As they took a few steps, Laena clutched her stomach, wincing in pain.


    "Still not feeling well?" Rhaenyra asked, her worry deepening.


    Laena forced a smile. "It��s nothing serious."


    But they both knew the truth. The Maester had warned that thest miscarriage had caused permanent damage to her womb. This pregnancy was fraught with risk.


    Suddenly, a mournful cry echoed from deep within the Dragonpit.


    "Roar..."


    Laena gritted her teeth and took another step forward. "Vhagar is worried about me."


    "Dragons can always sense their rider��s emotions," Rhaenyra acknowledged, though her tone was far from reassuring. "Come back with me. Stop burdening yourself with worldly matters."


    "I can��t," Laena whispered, her voice hoarse and filled with sorrow.


    Rhaenyra��s eyes narrowed in confusion. "Why not?"


    Laena sighed deeply, her voice heavy withplex emotions. "My mother sent word. Daemon has taken a fleet into the Smoking Sea."


    "What?" Rhaenyra gasped, her shock palpable. "Rhaegar and the others had agreed to enter together."


    "Yes, but Daemon has never been one to keep his promises," Laena said, her gaze distant, lost in thought.


    Rhaenyra��s anger red, but there was also helplessness in her tone. "I��ll inform Rhaegar, pray that Daemon stays safe."


    The Smoking Sea had always been a symbol of peril, even for someone as famous as the Rogue Prince.


    ...


    Late at night, atop the t-topped Topless Tower, the Queen''s bedroomy in shadow.


    Creak.


    The door swung open, and Rhaenyra entered, rubbing her shoulder and dragging her feet, utterly exhausted. She had just put Laena to bed, a task that had drained what little energy she had left. At least she had done her best to fulfill the Sea Snake��s request.


    With a sigh, Rhaenyra reached behind her to undo the ties at the hem of her skirt. As she began to remove her red dress, her eyes caught sight of a stack of papers on the round table.


    "What is this?" she murmured, curiosity piqued.


    Slipping into a blue nightgown, Rhaenyra picked up the papers and began to read. As she scanned the contents, her expression shifted from fatigue to surprise, then quickly to anger. Each page detailed port taxes and various types of trade in Lys��seemingly mundane, until she noticed circles drawn around certain suspicious loopholes.


    Port fees, smuggling operations, ve trading... the evidence was damning.


    "Johanna, how dare you deceive me!" Rhaenyra hissed through gritted teeth as she reviewed the incriminating details. The corruption was undeniable, each marked item pointing directly to Johanna��s involvement. A fallen maiden sold into a brothel, yet she continued training female ves and bed ves for the powerful.


    The more Rhaenyra read, the more her anger grew, her breath quickening as her nightgown rose and fell with each exhale. Finally, she could take no more.


    Bang!


    She stormed out of her room, her face dark with fury.


    "Your Grace," Ser Lorent, who stood guard at the door, eximed, startled by her sudden exit.


    "Don��t worry about me. I��m just going to look around," Rhaenyra snapped, her voice firm as she headed directly for a specific room on the next floor.


    Lorent hesitated, his surprise evident. As he nced into the room she had left, he noticed a map spread out on one of the round tables, its details eerily aligned with the documents Rhaenyra had just reviewed.


    ...


    Half an hourter, Rhaenyra approached a secluded bedroom and knocked on the door.


    Creak.


    The door opened from the inside, and Mysaria appeared, leaning casually against the door frame.


    "Are you looking for me?" Rhaenyra asked, getting straight to the point as her eyes scanned Mysaria. Thest page of the stack of papers had led her here, showing a diagram of this very room.


    Mysaria crossed her arms, meeting Rhaenyra��s gaze. "It��s me, Your Grace."


    Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow. "What do you want from me?"


    She studied Mysaria��s pale, alluring face with disdain. As Daemon��s paramour, Mysaria had no ce in her life, and Rhaenyra made no effort to hide her dislike.


    Remaining calm, Mysaria responded as if they were discussing trivial matters. "I want to prove that I can help you."


    "Help me?" Rhaenyra scoffed. "And why should I believe you can? Besides, I don��t trust you."


    Had she not possessed such inner restraint, Rhaenyra might have ended Mysaria��s life right then. She needed no assistance, especially not from someone like her.


    But Mysaria showed no urgency, epting the rejection without flinching. "Would you like toe in? I have information about the ck Swan''s private dealings."


    Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes, sensing danger.


    "I have no ill intentions. I just seek a stable life," Mysaria continued, raising her hand in a solemn vow. "I swear on the child in my belly."


    Rhaenyra��s gaze flicked to Mysaria��s swollen belly, and she instinctively touched her own chest. Even now, her breasts still produced milk. As a mother of many children, she found herself willing to offer a sliver of trust to another mother.


    "Tell me more," Rhaenyra said, entering the room, intent on skipping the pleasantries.


    Mysaria smiled as she poured a drink for Rhaenyra, then began to speak with enthusiasm. "The ck Swan is quite resourceful. She was a courtesan in Lys many years ago."


    "Your Grace was able to secure control of Lys so swiftly after the government fellrgely because of her."


    "But with that influence came vices she couldn''t shake," Mysaria continued, her tone growing colder. "A woman who uses her body to gain power will never escape the stigma. After the fall of the Triarchy, Lys''s powerful elite managed to retain 30% of their influence, all thanks to the ck Swan''s underhanded dealings. She secured their loyalty by catering to their interests."


    Rhaenyra frowned, processing the information. "How do you know so much? She never revealed anything to me."


    "Those in high ces rarely notice those beneath them," Mysaria replied, her voice tinged with sadness despite the smile on her lips.


    Rhaenyra��s expression grew pensive, thinking of Daemon, who had abandoned her. The wedding that should have taken ce was canceled, leaving Mysaria��the White Worm��cast aside.


    "What do you want?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone serious. She knew that anyone who offered such valuable information must have an agenda.


    Mysaria��s gaze softened, and she confessed, "I seek your protection. I want to live in peace."


    "Why me?" Rhaenyra remained cautious.


    "I have no choice," Mysaria replied with a bitter smile. "Daemon is gone, my wealth is gone, and I imagine you need someone clever to handle certain matters."


    If she hadn��t been backed into a corner, Mysaria would have steered clear of the royal family. These dragonriders were like gods to ordinary people, and to be close to a king was as dangerous as being near a tiger��especially one with a temperamental nature.


    Rhaenyra studied her intently, as if trying to peer into her soul. After a long silence, she finally spoke. "You can live under my protection."


    "Thank you, Your Grace," Mysaria said, her expression rxing as she bent down to bow.


    "Wait," Rhaenyra said, catching her by the hand to stop her from bowing over her swollen belly. Her voice was stern. "I have a condition. You must remain loyal and help me root out crime."


    Mysaria froze, her emotions mixed, before nodding. "I promise, Your Grace."


    She only wanted to live peacefully and bring her child safely into the world. If the cost of that peace was loyalty and helping to dismantle the ck Swan��swork, so be it. Mysaria would show the ck Swan just what the White Worm was capable of.


    ...


    In the dead of night at the harbor, the bonfire flickered brightly against the dark sky, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air.


    Addam walked alone to the edge of the beach, his expression serious and focused. A single-masted sailboat was anchored in the reef area, its silhouette barely visible in the dim light.


    "My Lord," a burly man dressed as a fisherman greeted him respectfully from the shore.


    Addam nodded, a hint of unease in his movements, as he handed the man a sealed letter. "Make sure this reaches Qohor," he said solemnly.


    The letter bore the emblem of the Seahorses, a mark of House Vryon.


    The fisherman pounded his chest with one hand in a gesture of loyalty. "You can count on me," he promised before turning to board the sailboat.


    Addam watched in silence as the boat sailed off into the night, its outline gradually fading into the darkness. The letter had been entrusted to him by Lord Corlys Vryon, with strict instructions to ensure its delivery to Lord Bartimos of House Celtigar.


    House Vryon and House Celtigar were connected by blood and shared a proud heritage as noblemen of Old Valyria. Bartimos had aligned himself with One-Eyed Aemond, and it was no surprise that the Sea Snake, too, had thrown in his lot with the same faction.


    Disillusioned with both Daemon and Rhaegar, Lord Corlys had pledged his allegiance to Rhaenyra. The intricate web of alliances meant that contact with One-Eyed Aemond was inevitable, despite the tensions thaty beneath the surface.


    "Lord Corlys, your foresight is truly remarkable," Addam murmured to himself, a mix of admiration and uncertainty in his voice. He turned and began to make his way back, lost in thought.


    He couldn''t shake the feeling that Lord Corlys had deeper expectations for him��expectations that went beyond the traditional teachings of a knight. There was something more, something unspoken, that weighed heavily on his mind as he walked away from the harbor.

 Chapter 577: The Blood Wyrm is Hurt

    Chapter 577: The Blood Wyrm is Hurt


    The next day, the sky was a vivid blue, and the grass gleamed a lush green. Rhaegar strolled across the grasnd behind Twin Castle, his eyes fixed on the letter in his hands. The letter was brief, but its contents were anything but simple.


    "Daemon actually ventured into the Smoking Sea!"


    Rhaegar frowned slightly, a swirl of emotions stirring within him. His uncle certainly had grand ambitions and always managed to find a way to make his presence known. Yet, it was unlike Daemon to leave home so willingly.


    ''Let him explore the Smoking Sea first,'' Rhaegar thought, shaking his head, unwilling to get involved.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal crouched on the grass, its back arched high, sensing its rider''s unease. Rhaegar nced at the dragon and said tly, "Eat your sheep."


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal��s green pupils narrowed in displeasure. The massive beast twisted its body, its front paws crushing the charred skeletons on the ground with its wings. ''Foolish rider, unworthy of a dragon''s affection,'' it seemed to think.


    "Brother, we��ve got all the food and drink ready!" Daeron called out from a distance, his chest and backden with cloth pouches.


    Rhaegar chuckled silently. "Why not have your servant carry it?" he asked, tearing up the letter as he walked toward his eager younger brother.


    Daeron puffed out his chest andughed. "I��ll carry it myself. Your squire deserves a break."


    "It''s not that bad, little brother." Rhaegar took therge bundle, considering that Aegon''snds weren''t as lenient as they seemed.


    A soft hum filled the air as Rhaegar''s space ne activated. The red dragon on the round Valyrian steel pendant opened its eyes, swallowing the supplies into its five cubic storagepartments, enough to sustain them for half a month.


    Daeron''s eyes widened in surprise, his curiosity piqued by the magical item. "Isn''t it magnificent?" Rhaegar asked with a smile, touching the pendant. "If I get the chance, I��ll make one for you too."


    "Really?" Daeron was taken aback, knowing there were only two such space artifacts in the family. Even their eldest sister, Rhaenyra, didn��t have one.


    "Just wait a little longer." Rhaegar ced his hands behind his back and climbed onto the dragon with practiced ease. His spirit power had grown, and his skill in engraving runes had improved by leaps and bounds. Once he mastered the fusion of fire magic and runes, he would be able to craft a spatial artifact.


    "Roar!"


    With Rhaegar securely on its back, the Cannibal let out a long howl, trotting to the cliff''s edge. It plunged downward, its ck wings skimming the sea before surging upward into the sky.


    Roar!


    From the high walls of Twin Castle, Tessarion emerged, his cobalt blue body gleaming like a jewel. For a sub-adult dragon, it had nearly reached full size. In two more years, it would be fully grown.


    ...


    The Smoking Sea.


    Under the blistering sun, the heat was so intense that it createdyers of gray mist, distorting the air as far as the eye could see. The darkness was so oppressive that you couldn��t see your hand in front of your face, only the thick fog and the choking stench of death. No one in their right mind would venture near this ce. Those who dared would find the fog revealing the devil''s hand, its terrifying wail striking fear deep into their hearts.


    "Roar..."


    A thunderous dragon roar pierced the silence as a scarlet rift tore open the sky.


    "Roar!"


    Caraxes�� pupils gleamed with a ferocious light as its serpentine body broke through the fog, surging out of the Smoking Sea. But the danger was far from over. Clinging to its massive, scarlet-scaled body were hordes of gray-skinned creatures, their scaly forms packed tightly like ants.


    "Dracarys, Caraxes!" Daemon��s eyes turned blood-red, his body exuding a murderous aura.


    "Roar!"


    Caraxes lifted its head and unleashed a torrent of scarlet dragonfire into the sea. The mes exploded into a towering mushroom cloud, crashing down into the waters. The sound of burning flesh crackled in the air as the creatures, now ame, burst apart and plunged into the sea like dumplings. The dragon nced back, only to see its rider besieged.


    Several of the creatures had huddled beneath the dragon��s wings, avoiding the direct st of dragonfire. They now swarmed the blood-soaked figure in the saddle like living corpses.


    "Bastards!"


    A sh of malice crossed Daemon��s eyes as he stood, unsheathing his sword and swinging it in a deadly arc.


    Pili-pulu...


    Several grotesque heads toppled from their bodies, and the headless corpses tumbled down, crashing into the seabed.


    "Roar!"


    With Daemon regaining his bnce, Caraxes suddenly surged forward, shaking violently like a writhing snake. In an instant, the remaining stone men were flung off, scattering into the sea.


    Daemon coldly surveyed the scene, ripping off his tattered crimson cloak and quickly inspecting himself. His once-mighty ck steel armor was riddled with gashes, soaked in blood, and half of his entrails hung from his shoulder. His silver hair, now singed and curled, fell across his face like the gnawed remnants of a battle.


    "Go, Caraxes!"


    Daemon''s voice was deep and resolute as he cast onest look back at the thick, mist-shrouded Smoking Sea. The danger here needed no further words.


    As the long, thin dragon tail vanished into the clouds, a deep, jagged cut was revealed on Caraxes�� lower abdomen, and scalding dragon blood dripped down.


    Zla...


    The seawater hissed and steamed as it turned red from the blood. The dragon and its rider disappeared into the distance.


    Yet, the tenrge ships that had apanied them were nowhere to be seen, lost along with their sailors in the treacherous Smoking Sea.


    ...


    Night fell over Sothoryos, casting a heavy shadow on the Basilisk Isles.


    ��Asshole, pull your pants up!��


    ��Fuck off, I��m not done yet...��


    "...."


    The town reeked of filth, with wooden stakes forming a rough circle around the squalor. The air was thick with the stench of urine and excrement. Scantily d prostitutesughed and flirted with the leathers and ve traders, their shrill voices piercing the night. One of the traders stumbled, nearly lifting off the ground as he lost his bnce.


    In a shadowy corner, two figures in ck robes moved quickly, their faces hidden.


    "No news from Sowtown," Rhaegar said as he walked, indifferent to the chaos around him.


    Sothoryos was far from uninhabited. The Basilisk Isles were littered with towns that had been built, destroyed, and rebuilt countless times. These settlements were filled with mud and blood, teeming with runaway ves, prostitutes, and smugglers. Once, vers from ver''s Bay woulde here to buy human cargo before that trade fell apart.


    Daeron, walking beside his brother, nced uneasily at the men and women copting by the fire. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ''How can they be sofortable in the mud?'' he wondered.


    "Hurry up, don��t dawdle," Rhaegar ordered, his gaze flicking over the scene with disdain.


    Sowtown was no ce for nobility, and it cared little for titles like king or prince. Rhaegar hade to seek information from a forest witch, but the old, ugly, and blind woman had the nose of a hound. The moment she saw him, she began barking and scurried under a table. The visit had been a waste of time.


    Soon, they arrived at the ramshackle wooden gate of Sowtown.


    ��Hey, who are you?�� one of the guards slurred, his breath heavy with alcohol. The other guard, steadier on his feet, pointed at the brothers and shouted.


    ��Leather buyers, my friend,�� Rhaegar replied, lowering his head to hide his silver hair beneath his hood.


    The guard��s eyes gleamed with greed, eager to extort a bribe. Rhaegar moved slowly at first, then with a sudden burst of speed, he snapped the man''s neck with a swift motion.


    The guard froze, his expression nk as he suddenly found himself staring at the ground. Then, he copsed, unconscious.


    ��Go!�� Rhaegarmanded, kicking open the wooden gate with a powerful strike.


    Daeron swallowed hard and hurried after him. "Where are we going?" he asked, anxiety creeping into his voice. The night was dark, and the wilderness was no ce to linger.


    ��Green Hell,�� Rhaegar replied, his voice deep as he quickened his pace, entering the dense forest outside the town.


    "Roar..."


    The tall grass rustled violently, and a dark mound rose, transforming into the thick neck of a dragon. Cannibal��s pupils dted, glowing with a green light as it stared southward, toward the distant end of Sothoryos.


    Without hesitation, Rhaegar climbed onto the dragon��s back. Daeron, trailing behind, found Tessarion sleeping soundly in a corner, oblivious to themotion.

 Chapter 578: The Stolen Wild Dragon

    Chapter 578: The Stolen Wild Dragon


    Green Hell.


    The vast primeval forest stretched endlessly, epassing mountains, wastnds, and swamps under a star-speckled sky. In an unnamed valley, the ground was strewn with rubble and debris, the remnants of something long forgotten.


    Pop!


    The sharp sound of a de piercing flesh echoed through the night. Rhaegar, d in a ck robe with silver hair partially obscuring his piercing eyes, drove the "Dawn" spear into the neck of a dragon-shaped skeleton.


    The skeleton was in a pitiful state, with only a thinyer of decayed flesh clinging to the bones. The spear prated a section of the neck that bore clear signs of gnawing, leaving behind a charred stain on the bone.


    "Brother, is this a wyvern?" Daeron asked, his young face illuminated by the small fire he had just lit, a spark of curiosity in his eyes.


    Rhaegar pulled the spear free and examined the charred residue on his fingertips. This skeleton had been discovered by chance. Judging by the level of decay and the scorching climate of Sothoryos, the creature had been dead for no more than three days.


    "Are there any signs of wild dragons?" Daeron asked, suddenly alert.


    "I can��t be sure," Rhaegar replied, picking up a burning branch and moving away from the fire. "It��s gettingte. You stay here. I��ll scout the area."


    If this were a wyvern��s habitat, traces of wild dragons might be nearby. Daeron hesitated but eventually nodded, staying by the fire as instructed.


    "Roar!"


    Tessariony atop the valley, his gaze fixed on the somber rider below. The dragon��s pupils were wide, and its spirit shone brightly in the night.


    ...


    Rhaegar stepped carefully on the gravel in the valley, the torch in his hand pushing back the encroaching darkness. He noted with interest how wyverns seemed to favor gravelly terrain��something worth sharing with the Dragonkeepers back home.


    Hoo��


    A gust of night wind swept through the valley, causing the torch''s mes to flicker and dance. Rhaegar tilted his head, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. In a concealed corner of the valley, an uneven cave entrance came into view. At the mouth of the cave, arge mound of dried, ckened dragon dung was piled high. The stench was overpowering, a pungent mix of sulfur and decay.


    There was no mistaking it��this was the dung of a giant dragon.


    Rhaegar unsheathed the Dawn Lance, murmuring, "Apologies, old friend," before plunging the spear into the mound.


    The de, a foot long, slid easily into the dung, revealing its interior to be hard and dry, far from the sticky consistency of fresh waste. ''At least three days old,'' Rhaegar thought, his eyes brightening as he bypassed the pile and ventured into the cave.


    The size of the dung pile caught his attention��it was enormous, nearly half as tall as a man. The dragon that produced it must have been truly massive. ''It could be the wild dragon I encountered in the Sea of Dorne,'' he mused, his mind racing as he navigated the dim cave.


    Click!


    His foot struck something hard, like a round stone. Rhaegar looked down and discovered two colorful wyvern eggs partially buried in the sand.


    ...


    It was midnight. The campfire zed brightly, the crackling mes driving away the relentless mosquitoes. Rhaegar returned to camp, walking slowly and cradling two wyvern eggs in his arms.


    "Brother," Daeron greeted him, taking the wyvern eggs as he tended to a steak sizzling over the fire.


    "I found a pile of dragon dung. We need to be cautious," Rhaegar said, frowning. He was never fond of ying hide-and-seek with danger.


    "It''s fine. At least we have a clue," Daeron replied, understanding that their main goal was to find fresh blood for Sunfyre. Discovering signs of wild dragons wasn��t unexpected. After all, the Cannibal itself was once a wild dragon. No one knew whether it hatched on Dragonstone or wandered to Dragonmont, a living volcano, to nest. One day, another wild dragon might follow the scent and fly to Dragonstone.


    Rhaegar smiled, his gaze drifting toward the valley where the Cannibal rested. The massive dragon, exhausted from a day of flying,y sprawled on the ground like a mountain of coal, its eyes closed in deep slumber.


    Suddenly, Rhaegar froze, his expression curious. "Where is your dragon?" he asked.


    Daeron nced around, then said, "Probably out hunting." Tessarion, being smaller, found it easier to cover long distances. It wasmon for him to sleep in the forest during the day and hunt at night.


    Rhaegar''s frown deepened. "There are wild dragons in Green Hell. We shouldn��t stray too far from our dragons."


    Those who had suffered knew all too well that a dragonrider was nothing without their dragon.


    ...


    On the other side of the forest, a magnificent cobalt-blue dragony nestled among the trees, snorting softly as it sniffed the air, inching deeper into the vast wilderness. Suddenly, the dragon''s head snapped up, its pupils shing with curiosity. A strange scent had caught its attention, leading it toward an unremarkable low mountain in the distance.


    "Roar!"


    With a roar of excitement, the dragon spread its wings and soared into the sky, flying swiftly toward the source of the intriguing scent.


    ...


    The night grew deeper, casting an even darker shadow over the valley. The two brothers slept in their clothes, but Rhaegar seemed troubled, his brow furrowed and his body slightly hunched as if burdened by uneasy dreams.


    Suddenly, a thunderous roar shattered the stillness.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal''s eyes snapped open, its green pupils narrowing with fierce intensity. With a powerful leap, itunched itself into the sky.


    "Roar... Roar..."


    From the darkness, a swarm of small dragon-like creatures emerged, bursting into the night like a gue of locusts. The Cannibal surged into their midst, its massive jaws snapping up seven or eight at once, sending pieces of their flesh flying.


    "Hiss... hiss..."


    As they revealed their true forms, the creatures were less than a meter long, with uneven ridges along their backs and bellies the color of brown mud. These were a dangerous offshoot of the wyverns, notorious for their swarming behavior, akin to bats or wasps. Individually weak, they could strip an elephant to its skeleton in moments when they attacked in numbers.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal''s pupils widened in fury, and it unleashed a torrent of dark green dragonfire. The mes spread quickly, like smoke and mist, igniting the night sky with a deadly, greenish glow. The wyverns shrieked in pain, colliding with one another and spreading the dragonfire like a gue. Soon, the sky was raining green fire, a lethal downpour of burning flesh.


    Cannibal snorted in disdain, darting through the fiery rain, devouring charred wyvern carcasses with ease. No creature dared to challenge it and live.


    In the valley below, Rhaegar awoke as expected, blinking at the sky. For a moment, it seemed like a meteor shower.


    "What''s happening?" Daeron mumbled sleepily.


    "Nothing. Go back to sleep," Rhaegar replied, spotting the Cannibal''s silhouette and rxing. The wild and once untamed dragon was more than a match for the dangers of this harshnd.


    However, unseen by them, a pair of copper-colored vertical pupils watched the scene unfold from a distance. Deep within a lush, primeval forest, a massive creaturey hidden, its dark green form covered in moss. Its breath was so hot that it scorched the grass and trees around it. The amber-colored eyes followed the Cannibal��s movements, filled with deep-seated vignce and hostility.


    Even from miles away, the familiar stench of ash filled its nostrils, a scent that made the creature sick with loathing.


    ...


    A low mountain.


    "Roar!" Tessarion followed the scent, gliding over the rugged terrain until it finally discovered an underground cave. The entrance was dark and deep, radiating intense heat that piqued the dragon��s curiosity. Tessarion��s head tilted slightly, its limited instincts urging it forward, drawn by the familiar warmth of fire. Without a second thought, the dragon ventured into the cave.


    Plop!


    With a misstep, Tessarion��s wings failed to catch the ground, and it tumbled headlong into a pool of hot spring water, sending a towering wave crashing against the cave walls.


    "Roar... Roar..."


    Panic gripped Tessarion as it choked on a mouthful of the steaming water, nearly drowning in the process. The heat, however, kept its blood simmering, preventing the shock from overwhelming it. In a frantic scramble, it mbered out of the sulfurous pool, dripping wet and trembling.


    As Tessarion lifted its head, it froze in awe. The cave was vast, its walls adorned with rope-like roots descending from above, and glimmering crystals embedded in the stone. In the center of the cave bubbled the hot spring, its white steam rising like ghostly tendrils.


    "Roar?" Tessarion''s pupils dted as if it had stumbled upon paradise. Entranced, it began gnawing on a shiny crystal, oblivious to everything else around it.


    The cave was connected to the earth��s molten core, and the searing heat reminded Tessarion of Dragonmont. It pranced about, sshing in delight, but then, without warning��


    Crack!


    Tessarion''s snout, full of crystals, stepped on something unusual. It turned to find a dark mass of dragon dung beneath its ws. The hardened outer shell of the dung had cracked, and as Tessarion lifted its cobalt-blue ws, a sticky, hot mess oozed out. Two eggs��one ck, the other yellow��rolled away, narrowly avoiding its ws.


    "Roar?" Tessarion''s pupils contracted, and it lowered its head, spotting a broken eggshell beneath its ws. The shell was green and white, with the egg��s contents now mixed with dragon dung and mud.


    It''s broken!


    Tessarion��s head tilted in confusion, its scarlet tongue flicking back and forth as if trying to understand the situation. But before it could process what had happened, danger closed in.


    "Roar��"


    A roar, full of rage, echoed through the night, and a st of hot wind surged into the cave, as powerful as a thousand-ton force. Tessarion��s cobalt-blue scales bristled with fear, sensing the imminent threat.


    In desperation, Tessarion spat out the crystals and quickly snatched the ck dragon egg into its mouth. Panic-stricken, it scrambled up the cave walls, its wings wing at the earth as its belly scraped against the rough surface, leaving deep furrows in its copper-colored scales.


    Before the cave��s true master could return, Tessarion bolted out of the cave, fleeing into the forest. In its haste, it unleashed a burst of cobalt-blue dragonfire, igniting a towering pine tree into a zing torch. Terrified, it flew in the opposite direction, pping its wings furiously.


    Momentster, the night sky filled with howling winds.


    "Roar!"


    A dark green shadow streaked across the sky and descended upon the cave like a falling star. The impact was immense, forming a deep crater as the enormous dragonnded. The ground trembled as dust and debris scattered.


    The wild dragon��s pupils were aze with murderous intent as it plunged its bare head into the cave, searching frantically. But what it found only fueled its rage. Half of the dragon dung was crushed, and only the yellowish dragon egg remained intact.


    "Siong!"


    The wild dragon let out a heart-wrenching cry, a mix of anguish and fury. Its desire for revenge now consumed it. With a savage growl, it withdrew its head and red at the trees aze with cobalt-blue dragonfire.


    Hoo hoo hoo...


    After a deep, furious inhale, it locked onto the direction in which Tessarion had fled. Without hesitation, it spread its massive, milky-yellow wings and soared into the sky.


    "Roar!"


    The dragon��s roar shook the entire primeval forest, sending birds and beasts fleeing in every direction. Tessarion, realizing the gravity of what it had done, nced back in terror and pped its wings even harder.


    Boom!


    Suddenly, a zing ball of fire fell from the sky. A colossal, moss-covered green dragon, asrge as a mountain, loomed above the clouds. Its fangs were razor-sharp, and its mouth gaped wide, dripping with foul-smelling saliva.


    Tessarion��s pupils constricted in fear as it caught sight of the monstrous dragon, its maw gaping with malice, saliva glistening ominously in the moonlight.

 Chapter 579: The Last Remnant of Old Valyria

    Chapter 579: The Last Remnant of Old Valyria


    The ghostly green fire fell upon the barrennd, briefly illuminating the night sky as if it were day.


    Pop!


    A spear pierced a stone wall, revealing an irregr piece of ore with spidery red veins inside. Rhaegar twisted the ore in his hands, eximing in surprise, "A rare and special mineral."


    He retrieved a gray, oval-shaped stone from his space ne and held it up to the greenish Dragonfire. This stone, a rare mineral stored in the Daeryon family''s space bracelet, paled inparison to the one in Rhaegar''s hand.


    "Brother, this stone wall is no ordinary stone wall," Daeron said, his hands busy feeling around the rugged, scratched surface of the valley''s outer wall. "It was made by a dragon."


    Rhaegar''s sharp eyes recognized the marks immediately. The grooves were caused by the sharp edges of dragon scales rubbing against the stone. The special ore was likely left behind by a wild dragon scratching itself here, mixed in with the scales.


    Daeron smiled excitedly. "What is this ore used for? My brother has many special ores, but he never uses them for carving or forging."


    "Blood Silver Stone, a substitute for blood sacrifice," Rhaegar exined patiently, holding up the blood-shot mineral. "If you forge magical items, it''s an indispensable top-tier material. For engraving a spatial item, Blood Silver Stone has the best magic effect."


    "Let''s go." Rhaegar pocketed the ore and used his spear to lift the charred corpse of a Brown-bellied Wyvern at his feet. The dragon''s roar echoed through the night, banishing any remnants of sleepiness from the brothers. They had stumbled upon a new clue in the valley.


    "Roar..."


    Before they could take two steps, a thunderous dragon roar exploded in their ears. Rhaegar, startled, looked up immediately.


    Hoo!


    Above the valley, the Cannibal hovered in circles, its cold green pupils indifferent, with deep green fire surging in its throat.


    "Where is Tessarion? Hurry!" Rhaegar''s face paled, and he sprinted toward the valley''s edge. The bond between man and dragon was strong; he sensed the bloodthirsty vignce in the Cannibal''s growl.


    "I don''t know," Daeron replied, stunned, instinctively following his brother. Tessarion was a proud dragon who often refused food from the Dragonkeepers, preferring to hunt on its own.


    "Roar!"


    As soon as the words left his mouth, a familiar shrill roar pierced the night. The dark sky was shrouded in thick clouds as a cobalt blue dragon burst through, its magnificent wings aze with blue mes, screaming in panic.


    "Tessarion!" Daeron was dumbfounded, his heart aching at the sight of the injured dragon.


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, a thunderous roar echoed through the heavens, apanied by a blinding sh of lightning. A dragon''s blood-red mouth tore through the thick clouds.


    Drizzle...


    The rain fell heavily, kicking up a cloud of dust. Rhaegar looked up, and with the aid of the silver lightning, he could see the hideous dragon''s head, scarred and menacing.


    "Roar!"


    The dragon''s head reared back, its narrow pupils glowing with rage, and it spat out a torrent of orange and green Dragonfire.


    Roar!


    Tessarion let out a terrified cry, catching sight of the approaching fiery dragonfire, feeling the specter of death looming.


    ''No!'' Daeron cried out in rm.


    Crack!


    The cold rain pped his face, and the blinding lightning tore through the sky. Rhaegar closed his eyes gently, feeling an uncanny connection with the dragon.


    Roar!


    In an instant, a pair of wings, dark as death, unfurled in the night sky. The ck dragon opened its maw wide and descended from the sky.


    Boom!


    The dark green Dragonfire tore through the rain, colliding with the wild dragon''s fiery breath. The sh of Dragonfire created a brilliant explosion of dark green and blue, as if trying to paint the entire sky.


    Cannibal''s eyes zed with fury as it twisted its neck and dove, crashing into the wild dragon with a ferocious, bone-crushing impact.


    Sizzle!


    Hot dragon blood sttered as the hook-like teeth pierced the scales.


    "Roar!"


    Tessarion, caught between the two beasts, witnessed the dark dragon''s savage attack and let out a heavy, resigned roar.


    "Roar!"


    The wild dragon roared in fury as the Cannibal''s teeth sank into its thick neck. It thrashed wildly, swinging its head in an attempt to break free. Yet the Cannibal remained unmoved, its abyssal jaws slowly closing, while its sharp ws tore open the wild dragon��s chest.


    Rhaegar and Daeron looked up together, a chill running through their bones. The ck dragon resembled a terrifying evil god, its massive wings stirring up clouds of ck mist, evaporating the rain before it could fall.


    Meanwhile, the wild dragon finally revealed its true form. Its entire body was covered in moss-like dark green scales, and its wings were broken and yellowed with age. Its head was huge and elongated, the details of its horned crown obscured by the darkness. Only its drooping lower jaw, wrinkled flesh, and the scars beside its vertical pupils were visible. Even from a nce, it was clear this dragon was vicious and ruthless.


    "Brother, it''s the wild dragon!" Daeron��s entire body stiffened, his voice trembling.


    Rhaegar, his gaze fixed on the brutal sh between the two dragons, responded gravely, "I know." The wild dragon hade so suddenly, even chasing Tessarion. It had caught thempletely off guard.


    "Your dragon came for you��hide!" Rhaegar wiped the water from his face, drew his dragon whip, and charged into the rain. Despite the downpour blurring his vision, the wild dragon''s enormous size was unmistakable. Even if it hadn��t grown as rapidly as the Cannibal, it was definitely on the threshold of adulthood.


    "Brother!" Daeron, filled with worry, started to follow.


    "Hide, quickly!" Rhaegar shouted, leaping forward like a wild goose.


    "Roar!"


    The wild dragon stretched its neck, letting out a rough, ear-splitting cry that seemed to scorch the sky and boil the sea.


    Sizzle!


    The Cannibal''s eyes, full of cunning and cruelty, seized the opportunity. Its ws tore into the wild dragon''s chest and belly. The two adult dragons tangled in the sky, their collision stirring up a whirlwind of sadness amidst the dark, weeping clouds. It was like watching a hungry wolf lock its jaws around the throat of a cunning rabbit.


    Boom!


    Taking advantage of a momentary gap, the wild dragon unleashed a torrent of Dragonfire, shaking its neck and crashing into the Cannibal.


    Zla...


    Rain fell on the two dragons, turning to white smoke as it touched the fire. The Cannibal��s pupils dted in pain as the blue Dragonfire approached.


    "Roar!"


    Its roar was filled with rage as the wild dragon managed to break free, its massive body swaying. Its neck was now a bloody mess, teeth marks covering it, with blood spurting like a fountain.


    Roar!


    Within seconds, the wild dragon''s strength faltered. Its wings copsed, and it plummeted to the ground with a heavy thud.


    Rhaegar had just leapt out of the valley when the dragon''s massive body crashed down beside him. Scales struck the ground, sending up a shower of sparks, and Rhaegar felt his head go numb. Mud and water surged like a tidal wave as the dragon''s tail mmed into him.


    "Bronze!" Rhaegar raised his arm to block the blow, green dragon scales enveloping his body.


    Plop!


    The mud pped him hard, sending his lithe body tumbling to the ground like a kite with its string cut. The impact was excruciating.


    Rhaegar��s body went numb, his vision blurred. The only sensation left was the residual numbness from the immense impact.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal roared like a mad beast, its green pupils squeezed shut as it swayed erratically, gliding low through the pouring rain. White smoke rose from its dark eyelids, obscuring the extent of the damage.


    "Roar!"


    Rhaegar propped himself up on one arm, gritting his teeth in pain. As he looked around, the sky was dark as ink, and the earth had turned into a muddy swamp, swirling with vapors.


    ''It hurts so much,'' Rhaegar thought, his body racked with pain. He shook his head vigorously, trying to regain consciousness. He despised pain. A wound of this magnitude could easily kill him.


    "Roar..."


    A low dragon roar reached his ears, apanied by the pungent, fishy smell of dragon blood. Rhaegar opened his eyes dazedly, seeing the dark green dragon lying before him like a fallen mountain, its body turned over and covered in mud and sewage.


    "It fell?"


    He tilted his head, cautiously reaching out.


    "Sighing..."


    The wild dragon''s eyes snapped open, its vertical pupils narrowing as its head and jaws pushed against the ground. It floundered and struggled in the mud.


    Rhaegar''s senses sharpened instantly. He nced at the dragon whip in his hand, a sudden idea sparking in his mind. As if possessed, he moved forward, his eyes darkening with intent.


    Crack!


    A bolt of lightning shed, illuminating half the vastndscape. The wild dragon let out a high-pitched roar, its body arching mightily as the shoulder des connecting to its wings cracked with a loud snap.


    In that instant, Rhaegar saw nothing but an insurmountable wall before him��an immense beast towering at least 300 feet high.


    "Roar!"


    The wild dragon, caked in mud and water, shook off the filth. It began to run, trying to take flight. Each stride was like an earthquake, the ground quaking with its every step. Trees toppled in its wake, branches and leaves scattered by its powerful wings as it rose awkwardly into the air.


    Rhaegar stood stunned, never having witnessed such a fierce dragon. But there was more toe.


    "What is that?"


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as he stared at the long, dangling strips hanging from either side of the dragon''s neck. At first nce, they could be mistaken for vines or branches, but Rhaegar saw them clearly.


    His pupils constricted. Reflected in his eyes was a tangled mass of rope. Even in its disheveled state, the material was unmistakable to him. Rhaegar, who had spent his childhood in the Dragonpit, recognized it instantly.


    It was a special rope used to secure a saddle, with the fallen part being a wovendder for climbing. The material was made from a unique nt core, tanned with a special hemp oil, an ancient Valyrian craft. It was not only strong and durable but also fireproof.


    Rhaegar''s breathing quickened, and he eximed in shock, "The dragon had a master!"


    The intact saddle confirmed it��there had definitely been a rider. This was no wild dragon, but one that had lost its rider, once the mount of a Dragonlord.


    "Roar!"


    At that moment, the Cannibal crashed into the mud, its powerful chest carving a deep furrow in the earth. A low growl rumbled from its throat as its head plunged into the murky water, churning it violently.


    In the next moment, the Cannibal''s pupils dted, its green eyes bloodshot and filled with rage. They were the eyes of a demon crawling out of hell.


    "Fly, Cannibal!"


    Rhaegar scrambled up the dragon''s back using his hands and feet.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal''s mouth cracked open slightly, its green eyes locked onto the wild dragon struggling to stay aloft, thick saliva dripping from its jaws. The wild dragon had more experience in battle, but its opponent''s attack was devious, almost blinding it. This was no ordinary dragon, and the method of attack was unlike anything the wild dragon had faced before.


    Rhaegary t against the dragon''s saddle, growling, "Leave it, hurry!"


    The Cannibal nced back, sensing the rider''s determination. Its mouth began to froth with furious saliva.


    With a powerful leap, its wings crushed the trees in its path, and its tail whipped around as it soared high and fast into the sky.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal roared, closing the distance to the wild dragon, which was flying erratically above. It reached out with its maw, spitting saliva into the abyss below.

 Chapter 580: Capturing the Wild Dragon—Uragax

    Chapter 580: Capturing the Wild Dragon��Uragax


    Crack!


    The giant jaws locked onto the twisted shoulder des, and the wild dragon''s wings drooped instantly under the crushing force. In a dragon fight, disabling the wings is crucial.


    "Roar!"


    The wild dragon let out a mournful roar as one side of its body went numb, its wing losing all sensation. In a desperate, panicked attempt to resist, it spewed Dragonfire, but it was futile.


    Rhaegar trembled with intensity, his eyes fixed on the tattered hemp rope draped across the wild dragon��s back. Gritting his teeth, he urged, "Harder, Cannibal!"


    As far as he could see, the rope, now filthy and encrusted with mud, looked like it had been dragged through a sewer. It wrapped around the dragon''s neck, anchored by a heavily corroded iron te at the top��the worn base of what had once been a dragon saddle.


    Rhaegar tightened his grip on the dragon whip, a realization dawning. "It really is a remnant of a Dragonlord," he thought. This was a dragon without a master, yet one that had once borne a rider.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal, driven by a deep-seated desire for revenge, bit down harder, crushing the bones of the wild dragon��s wing and twisting its massive body.


    Boom!


    One sharp w mped around the wild dragon''s neck, while the other tore into a iling leg. The rain poured down on the two battling beasts, the sound of splintering bone and ripping flesh echoing through the storm. Arge chunk of meat was torn off by the Cannibal��s fangs, and the dragon''s head shook as it devoured the flesh.


    The taste of blood only intensified the Cannibal''s ferocity, awakening a primal desire to consume. It continued to bite and swallow, piece by piece, prolonging the torment.


    The Cannibal didn��t end the battle with a single, merciful bite. Instead, it savored the destruction, eating the wild dragon slowly and cruelly, bit by agonizing bit. No dragon in the world could challenge the majesty of the king of wild dragons. Killing a dragon, even an adult one, was not difficult for such a beast.


    "Roar..."


    The wild dragon moaned in agony, its body sumbing to the relentless assault. As it fell uncontrobly, it lowered its head in a final, desperate attempt to bite back at the vicious Cannibal.


    A sudden stumble!


    The wild dragon��s sharp teeth sank into the dark dragon''s neck, struggling to pierce the tough scales, bright blood blooming like scarlet flowers. Cannibal��s green pupils narrowed, growing even more sinister as it clenched its opponent''s ws with a burst of strength, the sickening crunch of breaking bones echoing through the air.


    "Roar..."


    The wild dragon��s pupils dulled, its jaws loosening around the Cannibal��s muzzle as the loose flesh of its neck began to sag and deform. Rhaegar watched intently, his eyes reflecting an indecipherable light as he raised and lowered the dragon-taming whip. The choice to kill or spare was a mere thought away.


    Suddenly, the wild dragon slowly twisted its neck, and its amber pupils came into view. Rhaegar was momentarily stunned, seeing aplex mix of emotions��hatred, resentment, and a deep weariness��flicker in those massive eyes. A wave of realization surged through him.


    This was no mere wild dragon. It was a creature that had once known a master, now wandering alone across the continent of Sothoryos. Rhaegar lowered his head, recognizing the error in his initial assumptions.


    The wild dragon was old; its loose, sagging skin revealed as much. Though not as decrepit as Vhagar, it was certainly older than Vermithor, which had matured and aged rapidly. In contrast, Dreamfyre and Silverwing, though smaller and less imposing, still retained their youthful vigor, with no signs of aging. Even the Cannibal, with its thick scales and prominent horned crest, had not yet left the prime of its life.


    Rhaegar''s mind cleared, noticing a subtle shift in the wild dragon''s eyes. Dragons have distinct growth periods, peaks, and aging phases. This dragon looked ancient, but who knew its true age?


    Dragons typically live around two hundred years. The Doom of Valyria urred over two centuries ago, aligning with the natural lifespan of a dragon. If this wild dragon had hatched in Sothoryos, its age would be roughly urate. But if that were true, it would be a wild dragon by nature. Yet the saddle on its back proved it had once been ridden.


    Was it once the mount of an ancient Dragonlord before the Doom? Or a descendant who fled to Sothoryos afterward?


    ''No,'' Rhaegar thought, shaking his head. ''The descendants of the Dragonlord could not have tamed a dragon without some great effort.'' This wild dragon likely existed before the Doom, meaning it must be over two hundred years old.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal tore off another piece of flesh, causing the wild dragon to tremble violently in pain, letting out a mournful cry of despair. At the edge of life and death, the will to survive surged stronger than anything else. The wild dragon��s neck shook wildly as itunched a desperate counterattack, its massive body��over 100 meters long��striking back.


    Crack!


    The scarred beak of the wild dragon''s snout mped down on the Cannibal''s hind leg, sharp teeth piercing deep into the flesh.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal roared in pain, then swallowed the bloody chunk it had torn free, releasing its grip on the wild dragon��s ws and kicking it away.


    The wild dragon��s survival instinct had kicked in. When prey fights back with such ferocity, a direct confrontation bes too risky. The only way to win was to wear down its will, like a hunter tiring out a wild pheasant. With its wing broken, the wild dragon couldn''t escape. Its only choice was to fight with everything it had left.


    "Roar!"


    The wild dragon''s grip weakened, its neck loosening as it gasped for breath, head drooping and shaking. In that moment, Rhaegar''s eyes shed with resolve, and he made a swift decision.


    "Stop, Cannibal!"


    Before the dragon beneath him could fully register hismand, Rhaegar sent a powerful mental directive into its mind. With a sudden burst of energy, he stood up, sprinted across the dragon''s broad back, and leapt into the cold, driving rain.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal roared in surprise as its massive body glided past, its dark wings momentarily shielding Rhaegar from the rain. His heart pounded in his chest, and he swallowed hard as he plummeted through the air. Below, the vast forest stretched out like a green ocean, the moist wind howling around him.


    Barely able to see in the storm, Rhaegar focused on his breathing, adjusting it by feel. He drew out the dragon whip he had been holding tightly.


    "Roar!"


    The wild dragon let out a continuous roar, its flight bing more erratic as it descended lower, just beneath Rhaegar. It frantically tried to regain its bnce, twisting from a backflip into a steep dive. Hearing a noise behind him, the dragon turned its head in confusion.


    A silver-haired figure shed into view.


    "I''m here!"


    Rhaegar''s eyes snapped open, and he roared with all his might.


    Whoosh!


    The dragon whip shot out like a striking snake, coiling around the wild dragon''s bloodied neck in a tight loop. Overjoyed, Rhaegar used the momentum to swing his body through the air,nding precisely on the dragon''s back with a half-turn.


    Plop!


    He fell heavily onto the rusty iron te of the saddle,nding on his knees. "Big guy, that''s enough!" Rhaegar reached out, skillfully grabbing the rope of the dpidated saddle. With all his strength, he began to ride the fierce dragon.


    Such a magnificent beast would be a pity to kill. He wanted to ride it��and conquer it.


    "Roar!"


    The wild dragon, shocked and enraged at being ridden, instinctively struggled, thrashing violently. But Rhaegar held on, tightening his grip.


    Boom!


    Unable to shake off its persistent rider, the wild dragon lowered its head and dove, unleashing a furious st of Dragonfire. The orange and green mes erupted into a mushroom cloud, the searing heat rushing toward Rhaegar like a massive, fiery.


    But Rhaegar''s expression remained unchanged, his heart steady as he shouted, "Come!"


    Pop!


    The two-colored Dragonfire engulfed him, gently caressing his face and flowing down each silver strand of his hair. His purple eyes shone brightly, unwavering in the midst of the inferno.


    Hum!


    Suddenly, a gray light appeared on his forehead, just as the wild dragon tried to break through the mushroom cloud. Rhaegar��s heart swelled with joy, and a smile curled at his lips. Slowly, he closed his eyes.


    "Croak."


    A toad croaked in his ear, and a gray toad materialized out of thin air. In that instant, both man and dragon, locked in their fierce struggle, felt their pupils darken...


    The foggy space was so dark that you couldn''t see your hand in front of your face. Slowly, a consciousness began to awaken, its presence tentatively exploring the shadowy void.


    Suddenly, a shout pierced the silence, echoing in High Valyrian.


    "Uragax!!"


    Silence.


    Not a sound disturbed the oppressive stillness.


    "Uragax!!"


    The cry was repeated, this time with more urgency, as if summoning apanion.


    In the darkness, three eggs appeared, their surfaces gleaming faintly: one dark red, one deep green, and thest speckled white.


    Roar.


    One of the eggs began to tremble, tiny cracks forming on its bright, moss-like rhombus-patterned shell.


    One second, two seconds...


    "Roar~~"


    The egg split open, revealing a small, green dragon head that poked out, tiny and agile.


    "Uragax, your reincarnated body has hatched!"


    A hoarse voice rang out, trembling with excitement.


    Roar.


    No sooner had the green dragon hatchling emerged than arge hand seized it by the neck, lifting it roughly as if it were no more than a chicken. The hatchling panicked, its wide eyes darting around in fear.


    The cave was dark, the walls carved with strange inscriptions that gave the impression of a ce dedicated to the worship of dark gods. Figures in ck and red robes moved about like shadows, their faces hidden, their movements eerily mechanical.


    "Roar~~"


    The young dragon froze momentarily, its pupils quietly shifting. Then, all at once, the sounds around it vanished, as if the world itself had fallen silent. In the void, a pair of purple eyes appeared, seeming to pierce through time and space, reaching deep into the hatchling��s consciousness as if entering a dream.


    "Croak."


    The sound of a dull toad broke the silence, and the illusory scene shifted.


    ...


    Outside the cave, an open canyon spread wide. A towering volcano loomed in the distance, its crater boiling with moltenva, spewing pungent ck smoke into the sky. Despite the volcanic fury, the canyon floor was thick with vegetation, birds chirping and squawking as they twisted their heads on branches and rocks.


    In the depths of the canyon, a heavy, low breathing echoed ominously.


    p!


    A pale dragon tail, as thick as a ship��s mast and as long as a pine tree, swayed and then fell limp against the stone wall at the edge of the canyon, sending a shudder through the earth.

 Chapter 581: The Pale Dragon

    Chapter 581: The Pale Dragon


    "Roar!"


    The young green dragon was seized by the neck and dragged into a deep, verdant canyon. A pale, human-like hand clutched its slender neck.


    "Wake up, Uragax!" A hoarse voice echoed through the enclosed canyon.


    As it was pulled forward, the canyon gradually opened up, revealing more of the surroundings.


    "Roar..." The rustling of grass mingled with a rough, melodious dragon''s cry, followed by a clear wail. Birds scattered, chirping as they flew away, while a hot, foul wind gusted from the depths of the valley.


    "Croak."


    Unnoticed by anyone, a nondescript toad emerged from the corner of a grass-covered stone wall. The dream-eating toad stared with its dead fish eyes, puffed up its cheeks, and settled on a pebble.


    "Keep it down, ugly," said a gray, humanoid figure riding on the toad''s back, blinking its bright purple eyes.


    "Croak." The toad croaked dimwittedly and hopped forward twice. The wisdom of the runes was too weak toprehend human speech.


    Rhaegar sighed, continuing to y the role of an unknown Dreamer.


    "Wake up, Uragax!"


    The red-robed wizard wore a ck mask, holding the newborn dragon as if it were no more than a mere chicken. The only part of the wizard''s body exposed was a pair of pitch-ck pupils.


    "Roar~~" The young dragon let out a mournful cry, its small body trembling in fear.


    The wizard remained unmoved, his grip firm and unyielding.


    "Croak." The dream-eating toad trailed behind the man and the dragon, emerging cautiously from the grass.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were wide open, missing nothing in the canyon. His gray face gradually shifted in expression. As expected, he could only see images within his dream; the rest of his senses were lost.


    ''Eyes, ears, mouth, nose, body, and consciousness... The six senses make up aplete person,'' he reflected. Each time he entered a dream, regaining one sense would mean losing another within the dream.


    ''This is the equivalent exchange for dreamwalking,'' Rhaegar thought, ''and the limit for the dream eater to maintain a dream. When all six senses are restored, the dream will also copse.


    ...


    Deep in the canyon, a pale wall blocked a winding stream, allowing the water to wash away the grime clinging to the roots along its base. The mournful cries of a dragon echoed through the air, yet no dragon was in sight.


    The red-robed wizard hobbled forward, each step as painful as walking on pins and needles, slowly approaching the pale barrier.


    "Roar!" The wizard tightened his grip around the young dragon''s neck, causing it to scream in agony.


    Whoosh!


    Suddenly, a wave of heat and stench surged toward him, whipping the surrounding trees and nts into a frenzy.


    "Uragax!" the wizard shouted, raising his hands to the sky in excited anticipation.


    Rumble!


    The earth began to tremble as the pale barrier shuddered, appearing ready to copse under the violent shaking.


    "Roar!"


    A pale dragon wing pierced the sky, blotting out the scorching sun and casting a shadow over the active volcano like a massive, eerie umbre. The canyon filled with the foul wind, and the once calm stream churned with waves.


    The red-robed wizard''s pupils trembled as he stared in awe.


    Boom!


    A massive dragon''s head, crowned with a towering horn, emerged from the canyon. The gaping maw of the abyss split open, releasing a torrent of pale dragonfire that roared into the sky. The dragonfire, vast and unstoppable, swept over the grass like a waterfall, its destructive power rivaling that of a volcanic eruption.


    "Roar..."


    The ancient dragon fully revealed itself, only to fall back weakly. Its enormous head crashed against the canyon cliffs, sending gravel and debris scattering, along with fragments of its pale scales.


    Rhaegar, hidden in the corner, watched in amazement. The dragon, with a back as high as the canyon, measured over 800 feet in length��no smaller than the Great Wall of the North.


    Rhaegar''s heart raced as he slowly reached out a hand.


    Hum��


    The space around him suddenly shifted, the fragrance of grass and trees vanished, and his breathing grewbored. Startled, Rhaegar felt his mouth and nose grow numb, saliva gathering between his teeth. The dream he was in began to falter.


    ''There''s still time,'' Rhaegar thought, urging the dream-eating toad to move closer. His emotions swirled as he realized he recognized this canyon��it was the same one he had stumbled into on his first visit to Sothoryos. He couldn''t recall how long ago that had been. The once-active volcano had since fallen dormant, and the Pale Dragon had be a pile of bones.


    He needed to determine which house the dragon and the wizard belonged to. What was the secret of this dark green wild dragon?


    "Roar..."


    The Pale Dragon opened its eyes halfway, its amber pupils clouded with a deathly gray, and its narrow eyes swarmed with strange flies. A mournful cry of pain escaped its mouth as it slowly began to rise.


    As more of the dragon''s body was revealed, Rhaegar''s face changed color. It wasn''t umon for an ancient dragon to show signs of age��loose skin, a crown of horns ready to fall off. Even Balerion the ck Dread had grown old and ugly, as the Dragonkeepers had said.


    But never before had the sight of a dragon unsettled Rhaegar''s mind so deeply.


    At that moment, the Pale Dragon finally crawled out of the deep valley where the stream spread. Its head, asrge as a small mountain, bore a faint trace of its former glory in the horn crown. Yet its jaw hung limp, its eyelids sagged like tattered rags, and its fangs pierced through its dry, cracked mouth.


    Flies buzzed around, sticky drops of fluid dripped, and a heavy silence loomed overhead.


    ��Gulp~��


    Rhaegar swallowed hard, his gaze filled with shock as he looked down. The dragon''s thick neck was wider than any bridge, and its pale scales bulged like those of an overgrown carp. Its chest jutted out, while its bloated belly sagged heavily. Even as it stood, the scaled skin and flesh dragged along the ground, obstructing the stream and hiding the massive dragon ws beneath.


    The dragon��s droppings lined both sides of the stream, darkened with reddish blood, emitting an unmistakable stench. Though Rhaegar couldn��t smell it, he could easily imagine the foul odor, causing his breath to catch in his throat.


    ��Why?��


    Rhaegar��s mind churned with turmoil as he looked at the pale dragon, stripped of all dignity. He whispered, ��Why not let it die?��


    A dragon of this size wasn��t natural. Someone had kept it alive far beyond its time, forcing it to endure a life that should have ended.


    ��Roar����


    The pale dragon moaned softly, raising its head only for it to slowly droop again. Its dull gray eyes struggled to open, locking onto the purple eyes in the corner.


    Rhaegar shuddered, his gray body trembling instinctively.


    ��Roar����


    The pale dragon ignored the red-robed wizard��s shouts, focusing instead on someone else, its throat constricted, a mournful cry escaping. It seemed to be asking the same question: when would it find its release in death?


    Rhaegar gasped, a heavy, suffocating weight settling on his chest.


    The pale dragon attempted to take a step back, as if longing to soar through the sky onest time. But its wings were as fragile as paper, and its body as heavy as a mountain.


    Boom!


    The dragon managed only a single step before its massive body copsed to the ground, scales scattering as it fell in a pitiful heap. The once-soft grass was crushed beneath it, leaving a deep furrow in the earth.


    Rhaegar reached out once more, yearning to touch the dragon��s body.


    Hum��


    The dream world shook violently, fracturing like a bubble ready to burst. Rhaegar��s gray form began to revert to its original state.


    ��Croak.��


    The dream-eating toad��s green eyes gleamed as it extended its tongue, licking up the gray mist and, in doing so, rolling Rhaegar onto its back.


    In the final moments of the dream, Rhaegar��s vision blurred. He could only hear two dragon roars��onerge, one small.


    ��Roar!��


    ��Roar!��


    ...


    Outside, in Green Hell.


    "Roar!"


    Rain poured down in torrents as the ck dragon glided silently through the night sky, its wings scattering raindrops with each powerful stroke. Below, the vast forest was shrouded in thick ck smoke.


    The dark green wild dragon unleashed a massive ball of orange and green dragonfire, crashing into it with unbridled fury.


    "Brother!" Daeron burst out of the valley, his eyes wide with rage.


    "Roar!"


    Tessarion crouched on a cliff, curled into a ball, its ckened wings smoldering under the relentless rain.


    "Come on, Tessarion!" Daeron shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the downpour. His young face was indistinguishable between the rain and his tears. As he yelled, he quickly hid a ck dragon egg beneath the rubble and dashed toward the forest.


    "Roar..."


    A mushroom cloud of thick smoke billowed into the sky as the dark green wild dragon plummeted from above, steam rising from its scales. For a moment, its speed surged.


    Daeron''s eyes widened as he searched the dragon''s back, desperately seeking a familiar figure.


    "Quiet, Uragax!"


    A clear, cold voice pierced the night, carrying an unyieldingmand that brooked no refusal.


    "Roar!"


    Upon hearing the long-forgotten name, the dark green wild dragon let out a mournful cry, dragging its severely injured wing as it fell rapidly.


    Rhaegar rode the wind, his silver hair whipping wildly, his purple eyes cold and proud.


    "Turn right, Uragax!"


    As the ground loomed closer, Rhaegar grabbed the left-hand rope with his left hand, issuing themand in both High Valyrian and the dragon��s tongue.


    Uragax''s pupils dted in struggle as its massive body twisted, forcing its right wing into an almost impossible angle.


    H!


    The wind howled, and dragon blood spattered onto the ground. Uragax��s body jerked, slowing its descent, then it glided sideways and took off once more. Just as it regained bnce, its bloodied hind legs smashed through treetops, nearly grazing the earth.


    "Roar!"


    Uragax roared, using the sway of its tail to stabilize and level out its flight.


    "Land!"


    Rhaegar scanned the surroundings, seizing the perfect moment to give the order. The dragon beneath him turned its head, its amber eyes filled with aplex mix of emotions as it adjusted its posture fornding.


    "Don��t give me that look, old man," Rhaegar remarked with a grin, undaunted by the dragon��s gaze. If he weren��t skilled at what he did, he wouldn��t dare leap off a dragon��s back and switch ces mid-flight. Over a decade ago, his uncle Daemon was hailed as the greatest dragon rider on the continent, a title that had been surpassed by the ��Dragon Herder.��


    "Roar... Roar..."


    Uragax roared repeatedly, its right wing pping erratically as it struggled to stay aloft. But eventually, it lost bnce and crashed to the ground with a thunderous impact, the forest overwhelmed by the force, spilling mud in all directions.


    Rhaegar��s body shook violently as the shattered dream world��s images flooded his mind. He recalled the pale dragon��s corpse, lying lifeless as maggots spawned within its decaying flesh. Though dead, it was in the process of rebirth.


    The scene shifted, and the canyon transformed into a Dragonpit in ancient Valyria. A young green dragon was abandoned, left in a cold, damp pit to fend for itself. Nearby, several older young dragons hovered menacingly around it.

 Chapter 582: The 300 Year Old Dragon

    Chapter 582: The 300 Year Old Dragon


    The young dragons were vicious, their eyes zing with hostility as they tore and bit at him without restraint. This was typical behavior among young dragons, whopeted fiercely to sharpen theirbat skills. The mottled scars on the dragon''s head were bloody reminders of its youth.


    As time dragged on, the other young dragons grew rapidly, each eventually bonding with a rider. The green dragon, however,gged behind, developing at a painfully slow pace. While other dragonlets left the Dragonpit, making way for the second and third batches to hatch, the green dragon remained, its peers changing with each new group. Scars multiplied on its body, marking the passage of time.


    After nearly a hundred cycles of frost in the Dragonpit, the green dragon finally matured into adulthood. During this period, the red-robed wizard appeared twice but was never seen again. Not long after, several silver-haired figures arrived to tame dragons, and a timid one chose the outcast. Rhaegar observed as Uragax was ridden for the first time, soaring into the sky for its maiden flight.


    Years passed, and though the so-called freak among dragons continued to grow slowly as an adult, it was scorned by its rider. The thin, silver-haired figure eventually stopped riding his dragon. Free to fly as it pleased, the dragon left the fourteen massive volcanoes, home to its kind, and returned by memory to its birthce.


    At this point, the images in the dream grew fragmented. Rhaegar tilted his head and caught sight of a distant sh of red light. The fire magic in the air dwindled sharply, bing scarce.


    "The Doom," Rhaegar murmured, understanding the significance. He released the rope and approached the scarred, uneven head of the dark green dragon. Its head was long and dry, with a sparse crown of horns, only a pair of curved horns extending from its cheeks. Its entire body was dark brown, with sharp tips that were milky yellow.


    Uragaxy in the mud, its wounds oozing dragon blood that turned the muddy water red, the heat causing blisters to form and smoke to rise.


    "Roar!" The dragon groaned in pain, its pupils fixed on the silver-haired figure above it. Once, a simr silver-haired figure had rescued it from a dark crypt, but both were equally despised by the dragon.


    Rhaegar''s expression was conflicted. He gently rubbed the scales on the dragon''s forehead and sighed, "Old fellow, you''re actually 300 years old."


    From the time of hatching, a dragon''s life could be roughly divided into two parts: a hundred years of struggle during the sub-adult stage, and two hundred years of adulthood in the wild. The dragon beneath him was now an adult, just entering its prime.


    "Roar..." Uragax growled, slowly shifting its gaze before lying down in the ruins with a weakened posture. The once fiery and hateful eyes were now dull and numb. It had lived too long, its spirit and vitality worn away.


    Rhaegar hesitated, then opened the explorer panel. He nced at it and noticed a special relic:


    <strong>[Dragon Essence]</strong>


    <em>Level: Legendary (Red)</em>


    <em>Function: Increases the growth rate of dragons (only for dragons below the adult stage)</em>


    <em>Comment: "The size of a dragon increases with age. One dragon lived to be 300 years old."</em>


    Rhaegar sat down and sighed. "A freak of a dragon, inheriting the essence of an old dragon, its body has undergone a mutation."


    The state of the pale dragon was clearly abnormal. Its innate talent was undeniable; otherwise, it wouldn''t have grown sorge. But the cost had been immense, leaving it to linger in a wretched condition. One victim had been sacrificed to rece another failure. Uragax, having traded its growth cycle for longevity, had be a pitiful specimen in an experiment.


    "Damn that evil sorcerer!" Rhaegar cursed, mming his fist into the dragon''s thick scales, his heart filled with hate. Dragons were sacred magical creatures, not meant to be exploited and mutted.


    "Roar..." Uragax''s thunderous roar echoed through the rainy night as the Cannibal circled overhead, its green pupils shing with sinister intent. Uragax''s body tensed, its right wing sinking into the mud as it struggled to rise and fight back.


    "Quiet!" Rhaegarmanded, his voice cutting through the tension, forcing both dragons into submission. The wild dragon would have to be tamed under the Targaryen name. There would be no room for recklessness.


    "Roar!" Cannibal let out a low, menacing growl, circling once before descending slowly to snatch up a bloody chunk of dragon meat, chewing it with deliberate slowness.


    "Roar!" Uragax''s fury surged, and it issued a warning growl, despite the pain from its exposed, bony right hind leg.


    "Behave yourself, Uragax!" Rhaegar spread his legs and brandished his dragon-taming whip. Uragax was in bad shape��its chest and belly were drenched in blood, its left wing was nearly shattered, and its right hind leg was almost severed. One more round of fighting, and it would have been fatal.


    "Roar!" Cannibal''s green eyes flickered darkly as it swallowed arge piece of flesh, then vanished into the darkness like a ghostly predator. Rhaegar and Uragax both exhaled in relief, wary that the Cannibal might not relinquish its meal so easily.


    "Brother!"


    "Roar!" Daeron rode the unsteady Tessarion through the rain.


    "Roar!" As soon as Uragax caught sight of the cobalt blue young dragon, it was triggered, summoning every ounce of strength to lunge forward, attempting to bite.


    "Stop!" Rhaegar''s whip cracked against the bloody dragon''s maw. Tessarion snorted and dodged the snapping jaws, nearly dislodging Daeron from the saddle.


    Holding a ck egg in his hands, Daeron beamed, "Brother, I''m so d you''re all right." He urged Tessarion tond and handed the ck egg to the dark green dragon.


    Rhaegar, eyeing the injured dragon, asked, "Do you have any more eggs in your nest?" Uragax, a dragon from one of the Dragonlord houses, had a mysterious lineage, distinct from the dragons of House Targaryen. Given its unique parentage, it was uncertain whether its offspring would inherit longevity.


    "Roar..." Uragax hesitated, then shook its massive head.


    "No?" Rhaegar remained skeptical. It was rare for a dragon toy only one egg in a clutch.


    "Roar..." Uragax buried its head in the mud, refusing to answer any further questions from the silver-haired figure. Without a bond between them, there was no trust. Rhaegar dismounted, half-believing and half-doubting. If there were no more eggs, so be it. He had all he needed.


    "Brother, look at this." Daeron approached, offering a blue-green crystal he had retrieved from his pocket.


    "Where did you get it?" Rhaegar frowned, sensing something unusual. The crystal seemed to be a special mineral, though its purpose was unclear.


    "Tessarion brought it back," Daeron admitted, scratching his head in embarrassment. "He raided a wild dragon''s nest and stole the dragon eggs." If Tessarion hadn''t stirred up trouble, there might have been no danger tonight.


    "Well done." Rhaegar smiled and patted his younger brother''s shoulder. "Without that, we wouldn''t have been able to catch the old one." Daeron lowered his head, still feeling guilty.


    Rhaegar took the egg and crystal, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I''m a bit tired." After this dream, his Spirit power had grown stronger, and the spatial inscriptions had sparked new ideas. But this rapid mental activity was draining his energy.


    Daeron said nothing, only helping his brother back to his feet.


    "Roar!" Tessarion whined, hovering above the two brothers, asionally casting nervous nces at the massive beast nearby.


    Hoo-hoo-hoo!


    The night sky darkened further, and a shadowy dragon form streaked by, leaving behind an eerie trail of green light.


    ...


    The night was on the verge of giving way to dawn, yet the sky remained shrouded in gloom as heavy rain poured down. On a low hill, a crypty exposed. Charred deadwood, ignited earlier, toppled over, and when the mes met the rain, they hissed and sent up plumes of ck smoke that crackled with embers.


    Ssh!


    A massive creature flew by silently, sending a torrent of rain cascading in its wake. A thunderp resounded��


    Crack!


    ��briefly illuminating the chaotic world below. A shadow pierced the clouds, then vanished into the forest. It circled the crypt without stopping, as if wary of some unseen presence.


    Time passed.


    The rumbling of thunder grew louder as the rain intensified, and lightning streaked across the sky. The ditch in front of the crypt filled with murky water, which seeped into the cave through a narrow branch.


    Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck. A long, pale tail slithered through the sewage and disappeared swiftly into the damp cave. Momentster, a crackling sound echoed��something was being crushed and devoured.


    "Roar..."


    The rain swirled, churning the fog, as a gaunt shadow with tattered wings spread wide and vanished into the night sky.

 Chapter 583: Sunfyre’s Endurance

    Chapter 583: Sunfyre��s Endurance


    That night in ver''s Bay, Meereen, a drizzling rain gave way to a torrential storm,shing the sea and drenching the entire bay. The Free Cities, still in the midst of their reconstruction,y hidden beneath a thick nket of imprable clouds. Pyramids and arenas,rge and small, glowed like bonfires of oppression.


    "Roar~~"


    Golden mes flickered among the ruins, and a restless dragon''s roar echoed through the night. Sunfyrey on a mound of bones��both enemies and goats��with its wings draped down. Its once-gorgeous scales had turned ck, and its wet wing membranes were beginning to heal.


    Crackling��


    A bolt of lightning struck, splitting the sky with silver light.


    ��Roar!��


    Sunfyre suddenly lifted its head, struggling to rise from the mud mixed with bones and ash. Its golden eyes fixed on the direction of Westeros.


    ...


    Inside the Great Pyramid.


    "Prince."


    "��"


    The dimly lit corridor flickered with candlelight as Daemon paced in a loose robe, ignoring the servant''s greeting.


    ��Roar����


    A piercing dragon roar suddenly echoed through the air, carrying a warning more powerful than it seemed. Daemon''s eyebrows furrowed as he walked to a window, his expression darkening. Outside, the dark clouds blended with the city, leaving only the cold curtain of rain in the darkness.


    ��Roar! Roar!��


    A golden dragon, twisting and iling in pain, soared unsteadily into the sky, its wings pping desperately. Daemon''s eyes narrowed, and he whispered, ��The dragon is frightened.��


    With that, he turned back to his room to retrieve his sword. He had a premonition that the sky over ver''s Bay would soon grow even darker.


    ...


    After a fierce battle and agonizing screams, the ck iron gate was violently shattered.


    ��Hurry in!��


    Grey Worm, covered in blood, had a crack in his pitch-ck helmet.


    ��Roar!��


    Caraxes�� eyes gleamed with ferocity as scarlet Dragonfire gathered deep in its throat.


    ��Quiet!�� Grey Worm shouted, his voice trembling with fear. He raised his spear and round shield in a gesture of peace, swallowing nervously. ��No Dragonfire!��


    He hade to rescue, not to die.


    Caraxes hesitated at the familiar Valyrianmands, slowly closing its maw.


    ��Phew!�� Grey Worm exhaled in relief, thankful for the daily dragon-feeding duties that had earned him the beast��s slight trust.


    ��Stop! Open the gate!��


    Just as relief washed over him, chaotic shouts erupted from outside. A deep, maic voice immediately captured the attention of both Grey Worm and the Blood Wyrm.


    ��Make way! Watch out for the Dragonfire!��


    Daemon appeared, grim-faced, d in leather armor with a long sword at his side. He pushed the Unsullied out of his path.


    ��Roar...��


    Caraxes�� pupils dted slightly at the sight of its rider, releasing a low, threatening growl.


    Daemon strode up to the dragon, demanding, ��The lights are on in Meereen. What��s going on?!��


    ��Prince, I just received word myself,�� Grey Worm replied, wiping the blood from his face with a solemn expression. ��The craftsmen, schrs, women, and children of the three ve cities have been relocated. The Good Masters, along with the holy women and priest who stayed behind, incited the restless ves tounch this long-nned rebellion.��


    Daemon��s face darkened. He wanted to berate Grey Worm for failing to guard the Free Cities, but with trouble looming, such words were useless.


    ��Do you still control the docks?��


    Daemon��s strategic mind immediately seized on the key detail.


    Grey Worm nodded vigorously. ��A hundred-man unit is holding the banks of the Skahazadhan River.��


    ��Gather your forces and retreat with your men,�� Daemon ordered coldly, then mounted the dragon that had been prepared in advance.


    ��What about the Free Cities?�� Grey Worm hesitated, his voice uncertain. ��And you����


    He struggled to find the words. The failed expedition to the Smoking Sea and the prince��s return to Meereen with his dragon had fueled countless rumors across ver��s Bay. Some imed no one could survive the Smoking Sea and that the Blood Wyrm was doomed. Others whispered that the prince had fled back to Meereen in fear, his dragon bleeding and broken.


    When Daemon and Caraxes hadnded in the city, the scarlet dragon had indeed staggered, spilling its blood across the ground.


    Daemon ced one foot on thedder and said indifferently, ��Take care of yourselves. ver��s Bay is no longer of value.��


    ��Roar...��


    Caraxes and its rider moved as one. Its massive wings braced against the ground, and its serpentine body coiled in the air, disappearing into the dark rain curtain before the Unsullied army.


    ��Abandon the Free Cities,�� Grey Worm muttered to himself, his mind reying the moment Caraxes had risen into the sky. He had seen the truth: the dragon��s serpentine belly bore a three-foot-long serrated wound, and with every movement, fresh dragon blood seeped out.


    As themander of the Meereen garrison, Grey Worm knew all too well that the rumors were true. The Blood Wyrm was gravely injured. Otherwise, the Good Masters and the ves would never have dared to rebel so openly.


    Grey Worm��s eyes shed with determination as he recalled the king��s final words before departing. He turned and shouted, ��On mymand, leave the city!��


    ...


    Three dayster.


    Sothoryos, the Green Hell.


    Roar!


    The Cannibal��s maw dripped with blood as it circled the valley, dragging the corpses of two Wyverns in its ws.


    Plop!


    It glided through the ruins of the forest, dropping the broken bodies with careless indifference, as if discarding a heap of trash.


    Roar!


    The lush forest quaked violently as a massive green beast emerged, its body scarred and covered in weeds and fallen leaves. A nest of dead branches was tangled in the middle of its enormous dragon horns.


    The beast lumbered forward, slowly gnawing on the pulp of a corpse, indifferent to the predator that had brought it down.


    ��Steady, Uragax!�� Rhaegarmanded, sitting cross-legged on the dragon''s back, focused on carving a semi-finished stone.


    ��Roar����


    Uragax, still feasting, let out a growl, deliberately shaking its body to make the wounds on its chest and belly tear and bleed.


    Rhaegar was deep in his task when he heard a ��pop,�� and a puff of ck smoke rose from the stone in his hand. His face instantly darkened, like charcoal.


    ��Uragax, I��m protecting you,�� Rhaegar muttered, his eyelids twitching. He pulled out his dragon-taming whip and struck the dragon��s broad back. If it weren��t for the fact that Uragax was a rare ancient Wyvern, he would��ve abandoned this godforsaken wilderness long ago.


    ��Roar����


    Uragax swallowed the Wyvern��s remains in two gulps, its vertical pupils ncing at the silver-haired figure on its back before retreating into the forest, the scent of the <em>Dragoneater</em> still clinging to its scales. It reminded the beast of the ��unproductive�� rider it once had.


    ��Forget it. Do as you please,�� Rhaegar sighed, rolling his eyes, too weary to argue with thezy old dragon.


    Uragax grunted in protest but returned to its original spot, lying downzily. Experience had taught it that when wounded, it was best to lie still; the pain would eventually fade, and the wound would be just another scar among many.


    ��I��m leaving, old man,�� Rhaegar said with a sigh, reluctant to part from the dragon��s rough scales.


    Uragax nced back at him, then continued to lie motionless.


    Rhaegar��s expression remained unchanged, but inwardly he was pleased by the dragon��s small gesture. The numbness in those cloudy eyes was gone, reced by a strong sense of disgust mixed with a hint of relief. Though the emotional response was subtle, it was a sign of life��better to have emotions than none at all.


    A three-hundred-year-old dragon was worth the effort it took to restore even a flicker of vitality.


    ...


    It was midday.


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal crashed to the ground, several Wyverns piled in front of it, swarming with flies and insects.


    ��Uragax, recover well,�� Rhaegar said, looking up as he held a dark red dragon egg encased in stone.


    ��Roar����


    Uragax lowered its head slowly, its eyes narrowing at the two silver-haired figures before it. Daeron, clutching a ck dragon egg, hid behind his brother, his gaze fixed on the massive beast that had clearly produced the egg in his arms.


    Rhaegar stepped forward, shielding his younger brother, and raised his voice. ��I''ll take the egg and help you hatch it.��


    ��Roar!��


    Uragax growled, Dragonfire gathering in its throat.


    ��In return, I''ll give you this egg!�� Rhaegar calmly tossed the fossilized red egg forward, his expression unreadable, though the action carried a weighty curse.


    ��Roar����


    Uragax''s pupils narrowed further as it reluctantly swallowed the red dragon egg. Despite the dragon��s saliva sshing, the egg vanished without a sound. After a moment''s hesitation, the old dragon retreated to its original spot, twisting its neck to tuck its head beneath its wings.


    A low, mournful wail soon echoed through the forest.


    ��Brother, what''s going on?�� Daeron asked, stunned.


    ��Roar����


    Tessarion, the pale blue dragon, peeked out from behind its rider, cautiously observing.


    Rhaegar sighed, his voice tinged with sadness. ��That was his brother.��


    The pale dragon hadid three eggs in total��one hatched into Uragax, while the other two were left behind. One had broken into fragments after failing to hatch, and the other had fossilized. Feeding the fossilized egg to Uragax was a way to strengthen their bond.


    ��Let''s go. We need to return to the Stepstones by tomorrow night,�� Rhaegar said, not looking back as he climbed onto his dragon''s back. Uragax, too injured to fly, was safer in the Green Hell, the ce it had called home for two centuries, than anywhere else.


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal let out a long cry, scooping up two rtively intact Wyverns before soaring into the sky. Daeron fastened the ck egg to his chest and rode Tessarion in pursuit. The two dragons, one ck and one blue, flew together, disappearing into the thick white clouds above Uragax.


    Uragax watched them go, raising its broken left wing as it silently gnawed on the piles of Wyvern carcasses. Everything seemed as usual, time passing in its slow, familiar way.


    Or so it seemed.


    Roar��


    After an unknown length of time, a hollow, mournful cry echoed through the forest. A burst of orange and green Dragonfire erupted, igniting the dense canopy of trees, blocking the view.


    ...


    The next day. The weather was clear, with white clouds driftingzily across the sky.


    ��Roar!��


    The ck dragon soared over the Summer Sea, the scattered inds of the Stepstonesing into view below. Rhaegar leaned back, his ck robe draped over his face as he basked in the sun.


    ��Roar! Roar!��


    The peaceful flight was abruptly interrupted by a series of roars. Startled, Rhaegar quickly tossed aside the robe and sat up with a jolt.


    ��Roar!��


    A golden dragon appeared, flying low and unsteadily, dragging itself just above the ground. Its broken wing oozed dragon blood, leaving a trail of red droplets that hissed as they fell into the sea, emitting white smoke.


    ��Sunfyre!?��


    Rhaegar��s eyes widened, his expression shifting to one of surprise and confusion.


    ��Roar! Roar!��


    Sunfyre let out a pitiful cry as itnded on a small, green-covered ind. Struggling to its feet, the dragon pped its wings and began to hop forward, determined not to give up.


    Rhaegar was dumbfounded, muttering to himself, ��It hopped all the way here?��

 Chapter 584: Returning Dark Sister

    Chapter 584: Returning Dark Sister


    Vntis.


    The back garden of the new Magister��s residence.


    ��Ssshh... Roar...��


    A scarlet dragony on the ground, stretching its neck and issuing a low, warning growl.


    ��Roar!��


    Another scarlet dragon hovered above, weaving through the thin clouds, its piercing pupils locked onto the ground below.


    ...


    In the attic, the servants stood nervously.


    Daemon, his face slick with sweat, devoured the food on the table, oblivious to the stares of those around him. The servants kept their eyes downcast, noses nearly touching the ground, not daring to provoke the unruly Rogue Prince. An oppressive atmosphere filled the room, making it hard to breathe.


    Creak!


    The door suddenly opened, and Rhaenys entered, dressed in a beige tunic. ��Cousin, is your dragon injured?�� she eximed.


    Daemon paused mid-chew, struggling to swallow the remnants of his meal. ��ver''s Bay is in an uproar,�� he finally said. ��I''m here to stay for a couple of days.��


    ��I know,�� Rhaenys replied, crossing her arms as she paced. ��The Unsullied army is advancing down the Skahazadhan River, nearing the Smoking Sea. They��ve killed the Great Masters and Wise Masters, disposed of the false Dragonlord, and even relocated arge portion of the ve poption from the Free Cities. ver''s Bay has been drained of its resources and has lost its strategic importance. Whether there��s a riot or not makes no difference now. The key is that the 5,000 Unsullied have withdrawn safely, and the timing of that decision was crucial.��


    At the mention of the ��Smoking Sea,�� Daemon seemed to recall something unsettling and gulped down a mouthful of wine.


    ��What happened out there?�� Rhaenys asked, her eyes narrowing with concern. ��The Blood Wyrm��s injuries are unusual.�� As someone who had lived through the heyday of the Old King, Rhaenys had seen simr wounds before. She knew her nephew Rhaegar was intent on exploring the Smoking Sea and felt it was vital to be fully informed. If there was great danger, it was not a ce to enter lightly.


    Daemon sighed deeply, leaning back with a restless air. ��You may not believe it, but I didn��t see what that thing was,�� he admitted in a low voice. ��It appeared suddenly and attacked without warning. If the Blood Wyrm hadn��t been so agile, it would have sliced him in half.��


    Rhaenys�� face grew serious. ��Tell me everything about your journey into the Smoking Sea, down to the smallest detail.��


    Daemon nced at her, grabbed a piece of bread, and stuffed it into his mouth before reluctantly beginning his tale.


    The story was strange and unsettling. As soon as the two ships entered the Smoking Sea, they were capsized by a massive wave. One ship wrecked on a boiling reef shortly after. Half the crew was attacked by creatures known as Pounders when they passed andmass, turning them into living dead. Eventually, Daemon and his dragons discovered a continent with six intact ships. There were volcanoes, smoke, and reefs, but a few miles from the maind, Daemon saw a fertile grasnd untouched by smoke.


    ��The Lands of the Long Summer?�� Rhaenys narrowed her eyes, puzzled. As a descendant of ancient Valyria, she had a natural longing for the Lands of the Long Summer and knew much about them.


    ��I saw a snow-capped mountain rising into the sky,�� Daemon said, his face softening with nostalgia. Then, with a self-deprecatingugh, he added, ��Who knows where it is?�� He had been unable to set foot on the continent and was swept away by a strange storm, encountering an undersea volcanic eruption. The sky filled with molten rock and ck ash that seemed to bury the world. The fleet couldn��t escape and was destroyed by the ash. Caraxes flew out of the eruption zone andnded on a shattered ind to rest, only to be attacked by an unknown creature with tentacles, nearly killing them both.


    Rhaenys listened intently, her heart pounding. ��Was it a fireworm?�� she asked, her voice trembling slightly. Aerea Targaryen, the third rider of Balerion the ck Dread, had died from a fireworm��s parasitic attack. Could it be that Daemon and his dragon had faced the same deadly creature?


    ��No!�� Daemon denied it decisively. ��Firewyrms and dragons are natural enemies, and they can even spit fire, but they would never cause the kind of injury I saw.��


    ��Are you sure?�� Rhaenys asked, still doubtful.


    Daemon''s gaze grew distant, and he replied quietly, ��There��s a living Firewyrm on that ind.��


    ��The Maesters at the Citadel exaggerate,�� he continued. ��It''s just a long worm that spits fire. Not only could an adult dragon easily overpower it, but even an ordinary person with a sword could wound it.��


    Rhaenys paused, stunned for a moment, before sighing sincerely, ��You should be grateful you weren''t bitten by that creature��its fire would have burned your blood from the inside out.��


    The tragic story of Aerea, recorded in the annals of history, was a grim reminder of that danger.


    Bang!


    Daemon abruptly stood up, wiping his mouth. ��Thanks for the hospitality. I''m leaving now.��


    ��Where are you going?�� Rhaenys frowned, tilting her head. ��You said you��d stay for a couple of days.��


    She still had much to discuss with him. Laena had lost a lot of weight recently, and Daemon, as her husband, couldn��t shirk his responsibilities.


    Daemon turned away, avoiding her gaze, and replied indifferently, ��I��m going back to Tyrosh, my own territory.�� After failing to explore the Smoking Sea and losing control of ver''s Bay, it was the one ce he still had to call his own.


    ��Are you sure?�� Rhaenys�� frown deepened, and she spoke in a low, stern voice. ��Daemon, you''re running away again, as usual.��


    Her words caught him off guard, freezing him in his tracks.


    Rhaenys took a deep breath, her tone unyielding. ��Viserys may be weak-willed, and you always believe you''re better than him��the best son of brave Baelon. But I tell you, you��re wrong!��


    Clunk!


    Daemon��s eyes darkened as he drew his sword, pointing it at Rhaenys�� throat. ��Do you think I won��t kill you?��


    Her words had struck a nerve, provoking him deeply.


    ��Haha, go ahead if you��ve got the guts.�� Rhaenysughed, as if mocking him. She continued without fear, ��Viserys was the king, facing hundreds of problems daily. Though his solutions may not have been admirable, the kingdom thrives under his rule. He has his weaknesses, but in the face of adversity, he still upholds the Targaryen legacy.��


    ��I don��t need you to judge my brother,�� Daemon hissed, pressing the sword��s tip closer, his expression growing colder. He hatedparisons, whether favorable or not.


    But Rhaenys didn��t flinch, even as blood trickled down her neck. She held her head high. ��And you, my cousin��you��re a pathetic little worm who can never shoulder responsibility.��


    ��You��re talking nonsense!�� Daemon retorted, his eyes cold and unyielding.


    Yet Rhaenys continued to look down on him, as if she were standing above him, even though they were on equal ground.


    With a calm smile, she asked, ��Name one thing you��ve done that was responsible and meaningful. Just one!��


    Was it the death of his sister-inw in childbirth? The reckless deration of "One day heir" while his nephew was sick? The so-called reconciliation with Viserys while secretly seducing his niece? The assassination attempt on his nephew, or the disastrous battle in Tyrosh that nearly cost his wife life? Or was it the vengeful plotting against his other nephew?


    One by one, there was no honor to be found, no sense of responsibility to correct the wrongs he had caused.


    Rhaenys looked at him with pity, shaking her head gently. ��Daemon, I regret marrying my daughter to you. You failed to protect her. You��ve only survived on Viserys��s charity and forgiveness. Without your brother��s protection, you have no ce in this world.��


    Each word was a sharp cut, each sentence a blow, delivered with the precision of someone who had waited for this moment, just to provoke him. But each strike hit its mark, exposing the ugliness in Daemon��s heart, leaving him feeling naked in the harsh light of truth.


    ��Ah!��


    He roared in frustration, swinging his sword with all his might.


    ...


    Outside the door, at the corner of the corridor.


    ��Prince, the Princess has matters to attend to, and you haven��t finished your lessons,�� Tnd said, his face flushed with embarrassment as he tried to dissuade the young prince.


    ��I can do itter,�� Maekar replied calmly, clutching a baby dragon doll. ��I want to see my great-uncle. His dragon is hurt.��


    Tnd��s expression soured, and she sighed helplessly. ��Daemon is not known for his patience, especially toward your father��s bloodline.��


    Daemon was a wandering prince, a figure who danced between light and darkness, his actions always bold and dangerous. Who could guarantee he wouldn��t do something reckless?


    ��No, Lord Tnd.�� Maekar raised his chubby face and marched toward the closed door.


    ng!


    Suddenly, a loud noise echoed from the other side, followed by the sound of a sharp de striking the floor.


    ��Hurry!�� Maekar��s eyes widened as he dashed forward on his short legs.


    ��By the seven gods!�� Tnd, even quicker, leaped over the little prince and kicked the door open.


    ��What��s going on?�� he asked, his eyes darting around the room nervously.


    Maekar quickly caught up, hiding behind his adviser��s legs and peeking into the hall.


    At that moment, a deep gash marred the mahogany dining table, with half of a sword embedded in the wood, while the remaining de and hilty on the ground, spinning in ce.


    Daemon sat slumped in a chair, looking dejected. His head hung low, his pride shattered as he wrestled with deep self-reflection.


    There was no denying that his brother had always defended him. As the sons of the brave Baelon, the bond between the brothers was as strong as steel. But that wasn��t what Daemon truly wanted.


    Covering his face with his hands, Daemon was tormented by his pride and buried desires.


    ��Daemon, stand up,�� Rhaenysmanded firmly, kicking the broken sword aside as she reached for the de at her waist.


    ��What more is there to say?�� Daemon��s voice was hoarse, his eyes empty.


    ��You still have a chance.�� Rhaenys held the sword with both hands, her tone solemn. ��Go back to your brother, to your wife, and to the king. Return with dignity.��


    Daemon blinked, startled, his eyes falling on the familiar sword.


    ��The bloodline of brave Baelon must not be tarnished, nor should it bear a stain in the history books,�� Rhaenys continued, her voice forceful despite the trace of reluctance in her eyes. ��Don��t dishonor the sword that the Old King gave you!��


    For a moment, the air was so still that even a pin drop would have echoed in the hall.


    Daemon��s emotions churned, his vision blurring with unshed tears. His lips trembled as he whispered:


    ��Dark Sister����

 Chapter 585: Winter is Coming!

    Chapter 585: Winter is Coming!


    King''s Landing, Dragonpit


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyrey on the ground, one wing pinned beneath a steel te, devouring the charred remains of wyverns. Judging by its ravenous hunger, it had clearly endured a great deal on the journey here.


    "Take good care of it. Watch closely for any worsening of the wound," Rhaegar instructed the Dragonkeeper, removing his ck robe with care.


    "Yes, Your Grace," the Dragonkeeper responded quickly.


    "That''s good," Rhaegar said with a nod, feeling a sense of relief. Then, in a more casual tone, he called, "Daeron."


    "Coming," Daeron replied, climbing out of the Dragonpit and tossing aside the bundle he had been carrying.


    Bang!


    Rhaegar caught the bundle firmly, opened it, and ced it in front of the Dragonkeeper. "A newlyid egg from Silverwing. Special care is needed," he said seriously.The Dragonkeeper looked puzzled but chose not to question themand. He signaled to his fellow keepers, who carefully took the dragon egg and ced it in a pre-prepared incubator.


    Rhaegar smiled but said nothing. In today''s world, dragons were the symbol of House Targaryen. The birth of the Smoking Sea wild dragon Morghul had caused a huge stir. The wild dragon Uragax, a living fossil, had hidden itself as much as possible before finally regaining the freedom to soar once more.


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre had nearly finished its meal. The dragon stretched its neck toward Rhaegar, cooing and nudging him yfully. Rhaegar hesitated for a moment, then reached out to rub the golden scales, silently apologizing to his younger brother Aegon. ''Your dragon is no longer pure,'' he thought.


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre''s clear pupils reflected the dragon''s contentment as it licked its sharp snout before curling up beside the wyvern''s corpse. When it wasn''t around its own kind, it behaved like a well-mannered creature.


    Rhaegar noticed this and nced at the wyvern''s charred, pale pink tail. "Aegon is a fool with good fortune," he remarked admiringly, "to have a dragon that is loyal, brave, and handsome."


    Among the four generations of dragons in the House, each one possessed remarkable talent. Syrax and Tessarion had yet to reveal their full potential, but they had already proven themselves in battle. Grey Ghost was a wild dragon and thus, better left unmentioned. Seasmoke and the fierce Sunfyre, both battle-hardened, were the finest of their generation.


    "Sunfyre is beautiful, even with its burns," Daeron said sincerely. Tessarion was proud and striking in appearance, but its temperament was too wild.


    "You''re right," Rhaegar agreed, nodding as he turned to leave the Dragonpit.


    If Sunfyre and Seasmoke grew strong, they would be the House''s mainstay for decades, even if they never reached the status of fully mature dragons.


    "Roar..."


    Sunfyre opened its eyes, watching the two brothers'' retreating backs. A soft sound escaped its throat, almost as if it were bidding them farewell.


    ...


    <strong>Red Keep</strong>


    "Your Grace, Prince Aegon''s second wedding went ahead as nned, causing quite a stir among the nobility," Lyonel reported in a low voice, his expression serious and weighted with concern.


    "As expected, the Andals aren''t ustomed to multiple marriages," Rhaegar remarked as he walked into the opulent Red Keep, always vignt of the shifting attitudes among those around him.


    The wedding had only recently concluded, and many nobles from across the Seven Kingdoms were still present. Rumblings had already begun among the nobility, who harbored strong opinions about the king''s multiple marriages. Even Daemon, the king��s uncle across the Narrow Sea, had found himself embroiled in controversy when he attempted to marry Mysaria, the White Worm. As the king��s half-brother and Prince of the Stepstones, Aegon openly taking two wives was seen as a direct affront to the Seven Kingdoms'' nobility.


    "Your Grace, it would be wise to offer some exnation," Lyonel suggested patiently, though with a hint of exasperation. The tension between the Faith of the Seven and the Protestant faith was already straining rtions with the more devout nobles. If the royal family began normalizing multiple marriages, it could easily be perceived as a provocation.


    Rhaegar paused, his expression hardening. "Lord Lyonel, when does a king need to exin himself to his vassals?"


    "There must be some reassurance to ease the nobles'' concerns," Lyonel replied helplessly.


    "They''ll have to adjust," Rhaegar said, shaking his head. "Father has been too lenient with them, and they''ve developed bad habits as a result."


    With that, he left Lyonel standing there, anxious and uneasy, and ascended the stairs.


    "Your Grace..." Lyonel called after him, but his voice trailed off in frustration. The king was admirable in many ways, but his youth and impetuosity were apparent. With House Targaryen at the height of its power,manding more than twenty dragons of various ages, the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms felt increasingly suffocated. The Targaryens and their dragons had be "gods" in the eyes of the world, their dominance unquestioned.


    ''s, Your Grace seems intent on suppressing the nobility,'' Lyonel sighed deeply, his heart weighed down with unease.


    ...


    Red Keep


    Rhaegar nced at his father resting in his chambers, then took a bath before stepping out of Maegor''s Holdfast. He bypassed the throne hall, slipping through a back door into the Godswood.


    Under the Weirwood, the ground was nketed in red leaves, like a soft crimson carpet. Hena stood beneath the ancient tree, her gaze fixed on its rough, white trunk and the tortured face carved into it.


    "What are you doing?" Rhaegar asked softly, careful not to startle her.


    Hena flinched slightly, turning her head just enough to acknowledge him. "The people of the North have taken the supplies to the Wall."


    "I know," Rhaegar replied with a smile, thinking, ''The caravan was like a long dragon, and Lord Lyman was beside himself with frustration.'' But there was nothing to be done��the promised support for the Wall couldn''t be reduced by even a penny.


    Hena lowered her eyes, speaking quietly, "This is right. The Wall protects us." As she said this, her thin frame trembled slightly.


    Rhaegar''s smile faded as he noticed the subtle tremor. He looked her over carefully and saw that her silver hair hung loose and flowing, and she wore a light blue velvet dress, far less borate than her usual attire. Her posture was rxed, almostzy.


    Taking her hand, Rhaegar gently stroked the small but noticeable bulge in her stomach. "Did you see anything?" he asked with concern. He had known since childhood that Hena''s ability to see the future was stronger than his own. Even with his enhanced dreamwalking abilities, he could only glimpse the dreams of specific people, not peer into them at will.


    "I see winter," Hena whispered, her voice trembling as she suddenly closed her eyes.


    "What else?" Rhaegar asked, lightly touching his forehead, attuned to the mention of winter.


    "And..." Hena''s eyes fluttered open, catching sight of her brother''s serious expression. She hesitated, swallowing the words she couldn''t bring herself to say. She wasn''t sure if what she''d seen was real, and she couldn''t tell her brother.


    "Can''t you tell?" Rhaegar''s brow furrowed, trying to gauge the gravity of the situation.


    "I''m not sure," Hena replied nervously, quickly turning away. "But it''s going to be very cold."


    "Don''t worry, it hasn''t happened yet," Rhaegar said, pulling her close and whispering reassuringly, "Don''t be afraid of things that haven''te to pass, or you''ll suffer three times over when they do." Facing problems head-on was the best way to ovee them; fear solved nothing.


    "Sorry, I''m just a little overwhelmed," Hena admitted, snuggling into his arms and clinging to his shirt with a fierce grip. Rhaegar nced down, noticing her fingers had turned white from the pressure. The tighter she held on, the more secure she seemed to feel.


    Rhaegar''s eyes darkened, sensing the seriousness of her vision. "I n to explore the Smoking Sea soon to retrieve the Dragon''s Horn. Do you have any suggestions?" he asked, his mind already turning to possible dangers. Daemon had ventured into the Smoking Sea and survived. If trouble was indeed brewing, he needed to act swiftly.


    At the mention of the Smoking Sea, Hena''s timid eyes brightened, and she nodded eagerly. "You should go where the me of your homnd still burns."


    "The Lands of the Long Summer?" Rhaegar asked, pressing for rity.


    "I don''t know. I can''t see it," Hena replied quickly, offering her opinion. "But a strong me can better withstand the winter."


    Rhaegar hesitated, thinking over her words. "I see," he said atst. The winter Hena had foreseen was not yet upon them. He had time to prepare. Returning to the Lands of the Long Summer was the first crucial step.


    As they discussed, the two siblings began to outline the framework of a looming disaster with their prophetic gifts. Rhaegar��s thoughts drifted, and he tightened his strong arms around her. Hena remained silent, closing her eyes and sinking deep into thought. They leaned on each other beneath the watchful eyes of the Weirwood, time passing slowly.


    Suddenly, Hena''s eyes snapped open, and she spoke with certainty. "Call Aemond back. He can help you."


    "Him?" Rhaegar turned to her, surprised. "I exiled him to make his name in Qohor." Truthfully, he was reluctant to contact the boy now. Qohor, an ancient Free City, had formed an alliance with Braavos and Pentos. Aemond''s attack on Qohor would attract the attention of all three Free Cities and potentially bring peace to both sides of the Narrow Sea.


    "You don''t know, do you? Qohor has already surrendered," Hena whispered, blinking. "You need a capable assistant to make your life easier."


    "That boy is indeed capable," Rhaegar admitted, raising an eyebrow as he detected a hint of pride in Hena''s voice. It seemed Otto and House Celtigar had invested considerable effort.


    "You smell of jealousy," Hena teased, tilting her head to look up at him from his solid chest, herrge, watery eyes sparkling with amusement.


    "No way," Rhaegar replied with a smile. "I''m going to fly to Lys. You take care of this."


    Hena bit her lower lip, thinking for a moment before agreeing. "Okay." It was part of her duty to manage her brother''s affairs.


    ...


    Time flew by, and a few days passed in the blink of an eye.


    In the vast forest to the east of the continent of Essosy the ancient city of Qohor. Its towering walls, built into the mountains, now served as a grim disy of conquest. Dead bodies dangled from the gallows, eyes wide open in eternal horror. The city''s defenses had been overtaken by Dothraki warriors d in animal skins, their cold eyes watching the terrified residents below.


    "Whining...��


    ��My child!��


    ...


    On the broad streets paved with red and yellow bricks, rows of old women and children knelt in anguish, their eyes fixed on the skeletal remains of their loved ones swaying in the wind. The Dothraki had promised to spare the lives of their captives if the gates were opened. But as soon as the barbaric cavalry entered, they unleashed a bloody and ruthless massacre. Any man who dared to resist, or even showed a hint of defiance, was killed without mercy.


    ...


    In the eastern district, masked priests gathered in the temple. The statue symbolizing the ck Goat faith had been burned to the ground, copsing into rubble. Hundreds of these priests were now bound and forced to kneel in the ruins, awaiting their punishment. Behind them loomed a majestic temple constructed entirely of wooden wedges.


    "Creak, creak..."


    A skinny monkey swung down from the canopy, darting away in a burst of energy. Aemond, seated in front of the temple, caught sight of the creature with itsrge, round eyes and stroked his chin. "What an ugly thing. Hena would like it," he mused. The monkey��s silver fur glimmered in the sunlight, and its fist-sized purple eyes were lively and curious. This was a small lemur, known in Qohor as a ��little Valyrian.��


    "Prince, we should kill them all," Bartimos suggested, his voiceced with malice.


    "No, religion is the cultural foundation of a nation. Killing them all would provoke widespread civilian opposition."


    "Who cares about those low-lifes? We have a dragon!" Bartimos retorted, his tone dismissive. He and Otto red at each other, their confrontation drawing fearful nces from the nearby nuns and female ves draped in gauze.


    Otto frowned deeply, warning once more, "Religion must not be undermined. We want a Free Cities that can be ruled, not one in chaos."


    "Lord Hightower, you''ve spent six years shoveling manure in the countryside. Has your courage been buried in the muck as well?" Bartimos mocked, his words dripping with scorn. Noticing Aemond��s distant expression, he added, "Prince, are you even listening?"


    Aemond snapped out of his reverie and met Bartimos��s gaze directly. "Are you done spewing nonsense?"


    "Prince, you��" Bartimos stammered, taken aback by the sharp retort, his face flushing with anger as his mustache bristled.


    "That''s enough. I don��t want to hear any more of your drivel," Aemond said dismissively as he stood to leave. ''Listen to my grandfather, you stinking crab,'' he thought to himself, his patience wearing thin.


    "Prince!" Bartimos called out, unwilling to let the matter drop as he moved to follow. But two Dothraki guards quickly intervened, crossing their scimitars to block his path.


    Otto, adjusting his disheveled cor with a self-satisfied smirk, said, "Lord Bartimos, heed the Prince��s orders."


    "Hmph!" Bartimos grunted in frustration before turning on his heel and storming off.


    ...


    Qohor, Back of the Mountain


    "Roar!"


    Sheepstealery sprawled on the ground, arge patch of scorched earth in front of it, littered with charred remains. Several simr scorched patches dotted the area, where the dragon had feasted. Among the burnt remnants of goats, a few ckened, spiked helmetsy melted and deformed.


    "Baa~~"


    A goat��s agonized cry pierced the air as its half-chewed bodyy twitching. Without hesitation, Sheepstealer unleashed another st of Dragonfire, reducing the creature to cinders before extending its withered head to swallow the remains whole.


    The dragon was absorbed in its meal when a figure appeared in the distance. Aemond''s expression hardened as he approached, preparing for his usual patrol. But as he reached the top of the hill, his single eye darkened with suspicion.


    A man was standing next to the ugly Mud Dragon.


    "Who are you?" Aemond demanded, his voice cold as ice, while slowly drawing his Scarlet Forger from its sheath. From his vantage point, he could see the Mud Dragon��skinny, with folded wings that looked like a pair of devilish hands. Beside it stood a slender figure, dressed in a colorful gauze gown, with silver hair flowing freely.


    The figure was barefoot, standing on the grass. At the sound of Aemond''s voice, she slowly turned to reveal a fair, maidenly face. Aemond��s heart sank at the sight, and he reluctantly sheathed his sword.


    ��You��re in trouble,�� the silver-haired maiden said suddenly, her voice clear and ethereal.


    Aemond��s single eye shed with cold light as his face darkened. "You��re the one in trouble," he retorted, striding toward the hillside with menacing intent.


    The maiden remained indifferent, her tone t as she spoke again. "Someone will soon bring you a message��to stand against the darkness and the winter together."


    "What did you say?" Aemond growled, taking another step closer, his expression growing more ominous.


    "Darkness and winter, like the Doom of Old Valyria," the maiden replied, tilting her head with eerie calm. "As a descendant of Old Valyria, you should be familiar with the Doom."


    Aemond paused, his wariness growing. "How much do you know about Old Valyria?" he asked cautiously. A woman with silver hair and blue eyes could very well be of Valyrian descent. But it was rare for such a descendant to hail from Qohor.


    "To be honest, not much," the maiden admitted, her demeanor unruffled. "My ancestors were soldiers recruited in Qohor. All that remains are stories passed down through the generations, aside from a few pregnant prostitutes."


    "Are you of the Dragonblood?" Aemond��s eyes shed with a hint of murderous intent as memories of Dragonlords in Qohor surfaced.


    "Roar!" Sheepstealer responded to Aemond''s unspokenmand, a fiery glow simmering in its throat. The stench of burnt sheep filled the air, and the maiden��s silver hair fluttered in the breeze.


    Facing the fearsome man and dragon, the maiden remainedposed. She pulled a stack of wooden tablets from her cor and offered calmly, "I can tell you the fortune of your journey."

 Chapter 586: Aemond’s Cruelty

    Chapter 586: Aemond��s Cruelty


    Across the Narrow Sea, Lys.


    The sky stretched in a deep, endless blue, mirroring the vast expanse of the sea below. Suddenly, a roar pierced the tranquil air as a ck dragon, its wings spanning the sky, streaked across the horizon. The beast''s long tail whipped through the calm waters, sending ripples toward the majestic Free Cities perched on the cliffs.


    On the streets below, hundreds of civilians paused, their gazes drawn upward in surprise. The ck dragon roared again, circling the Free Cities like a predator sizing up its prey before diving toward the Dragonpit with the speed of a shooting star. As it disappeared from sight, the people below watched in a mixture of fear and admiration, their eyes following the deadly creature with a mix of dread and awe.


    ...


    Topless Tower.


    Rhaegar emerged from the Dragonpit and ascended the winch ropedder toward the meeting hall. His purpose was clear: to mobilize the fleet and prepare for their entry into the Smoking Sea. Lys, ever the political heart of both sides of the Narrow Sea, was abuzz with thetest news.


    "Daemon returned in a mess, and ver''s Bay has fallen."


    Rhaegar''s face remained impassive, though a flicker of joy sparked within him. His uncle''s business venture had crumbled, and he wondered if this failure might force the man to reconsider his ambitions in middle age. As for ver''s Bay... it was a colony no longer worth its name.


    Creak!The winch chain jolted, signaling thedder''s arrival at the top of the Topless Tower. "We''re here," a voice announced. Without hesitation, Rhaegar stepped off thedder and moved steadily toward the council chamber.


    ...


    A council meeting was in progress.


    Johanna, the Red Priestess, Varys, and other prominent figures were seated around an oval table carved from Weirwood. Rhaenyra, standing at the head, raised a goblet of wine with a serious expression. ��Ladies and gentlemen, I have an important announcement to make today.��


    Varys, his strange tattoos wriggling beneath his skin, smiled faintly. ��Listen carefully,�� he murmured. As the steward of the Topless Tower and High Septon, he naturally obeyed the Queen''s orders.


    Johanna and the Red Priestess exchanged a knowing nce. Something about today''s meeting felt off. The Queen was dressed in a magnificent ck robe, her golden crown gleaming, and an enigmatic smile constantly yed on her lips. The formal attire and confident air hinted at an unusual agenda. This was no ordinary meeting.


    ��Then, the meeting is officially open.�� Rhaenyra smiled, bringing the goblet to her lips. After a brief sip, she whispered, ��Ser, please.��


    ��Yes, Your Grace.�� Ser Lorent, a member of the Kingsguard, solemnly drew his sword and ced it against Johanna''s neck.


    "Your Grace?" Johanna''s face turned pale, panic overtaking her.


    ��Don''t move, ck Swan,�� Lorent''s voice was cold as his de nicked a thin line of white flesh on her neck. The sudden turn of events shattered the fragile calm in the hall.


    Varys, hands in his pockets, had anticipated this. The Red Priestess stood up abruptly, her tattooed, tear-streaked face full of shock.


    ��Everyone, remain calm.�� Rhaenyra retrieved a list from beside her and tossed it onto the table. ��These are Johanna''s crimes. She has broken thew.��


    ��Your Grace!�� Johanna''s eyes widened as she read the usations. But Rhaenyra showed no mercy. ��You secretly sold female ves and boys to preserve the vested interests of the old nobility. You betrayed your conscience andmitted countless crimes.��


    ��But I maintained order in Lys,�� Johanna pleaded desperately. ��As a member of the Topless Tower Council, I have always done my best to help you govern the Free Cities.��


    She had sensed something was amiss with the Queen''s recent coldness, but now it was all too clear.


    Rhaenyra shook her head, cutting her off. ��You are dismissed. Your position on the council will be filled.�� She tapped her chin, signaling for Johanna to be taken away.


    Ser Lorent''s face darkened as he grabbed Johanna by the cor, dragging her from the hall like a disobedient child.


    Bang!


    The door mmed open as the ck Swan was led out by the Kingsguard. Rhaegar, who had just arrived, saw the scene and furrowed his brow in confusion.


    ��Your Grace,�� Mysaria, the White Worm, greeted softly, her pregnant belly prominent as she walked into the meeting hall.


    ��What��s going on?�� Rhaegar stood frozen in ce, stunned.


    Inside the hall, Rhaenyra, still smiling, took Mysaria��s hand and announced, ��From now on, Lady Mysaria will assume Johanna��s duties.��


    As she spoke, she nced at the other council members. Laena, another councilor, was absent due to her pregnancy. The Red Priestess had reced the Vntis councilor, and Varys remained the steward of the tower.


    ��Not a bad idea,�� Varys said, pping his hands in agreement.


    The Red Priestess, after her initial shock, slowly regained herposure and dered in an official tone, "very is abolished, and Johanna��s crimes are unforgivable."


    As a priestess of the Red Temple, she still found it challenging to navigate the power struggles at court. ��That��s good. I believe Lys will have a better future.��


    Rhaenyra smiled and raised her cup once more. Just yesterday, she had quietly dismantled the old noble faction that had been smuggling female ves and young boys, winning over the second sons of the Crownds nobility to colonize newnds. Lys, within the Triarchy, was due for aplete overhaul.


    Outside the door, Rhaegar, who had watched the proceedings from start to finish, shook his head. He lost interest in the meeting and turned to follow the Kingsguard, who had already departed.


    ...


    After a long time...


    The dungeon in the Topless Tower was damp and dark, with only the dim candlelight from the wall sconces faintly illuminating the floor. Rhaegar, d in his usual ck robe, approached the cell door.


    ��Who goes there? Stop!�� A silver-haired young man called out, halting the ck-robed figure''s approach.


    ��It��s me,�� Rhaegar replied, slowly raising his head to reveal a cold, expressionless face beneath the hood.


    "Your Grace!�� Addam gasped in surprise and quickly moved way to not block the man''s path.


    Rhaegar nced at him and casually asked, ��Are you the bastard son of the Sea Snake?�� He recognized the young man who had once saved his child.


    ��No... no...�� Addam''s handsome face tensed, and he stammered out a denial.


    ��Don��t be nervous. What does your identity have to do with me?�� Rhaegar patted the young man��s shoulder kindly. ��You��re a goodd. You��ll always find a way to make yourself useful.��


    Addam��s body stiffened, and he whispered, ��It��s all thanks to Lord Corlys.��


    Rhaegar smiled faintly, understanding the Sea Snake��s intentions. With Laenor dead and Laena married, the family��s main bloodline had nearly been severed, thanks to the betrayal of nephews and nieces. Raising bastards to high positions was amon strategy among the nobles of Westeros.


    ��Shouldn��t you be at the port?�� Rhaegar asked, ncing at the prison door, trying to coax more information from Addam.


    Addam answered promptly, his tone solemn. ��The Queen ordered the arrest of the old nobles involved in ve smuggling. I��m overseeing the transport of the prisoners.��


    ��Oh, I see,�� Rhaegar replied, the situation suddenly clear to him. As independent Free Cities under the Crownds'' control, Lys and Myr had garrisons of 1,000 Fearless and 200 Unsullied each. This was the most the royal family could muster after subduing the 5,000-strong Unsullied army. King��s Landing, after all, still required a standing force. The Sea Snake had stationed Addam��s fleet in Lys to supplement Rhaenyra��sck of armed forces.


    ��I need to go in and find someone,�� Rhaegar said quietly.


    Addam hesitated for a moment, then nodded seriously. ��Please, go ahead.��


    ��Very well,�� Rhaegar replied, smiling as he walked past. He recognized Addam as a smart man who knew exactly where his loyalties should lie.


    ...


    Deep in the dungeon, the damp walls were slick with mold, and the stench of urine and decay hung thick in the air. Johanna huddled in a corner of her cell, her body trembling with fear. She couldn��t believe it��the ck Swan of Lys, reduced to a prisoner.


    Tap, tap, tap...


    Footsteps echoed down the corridor, sending a fresh wave of dread through Johanna. She looked up, her eyes widening as Rhaegar approached the cell and removed his hood.


    ��It��s me,�� he said.


    The familiar voice startled Johanna, and a flicker of hope ignited in her eyes. ��Your Grace,�� she whispered, her voice trembling as she grasped at this final lifeline. Desperately, she crawled toward the cell door.


    Rhaegar, however, remained indifferent. ��What happened to you?�� he asked coolly.


    ��I don��t know,�� Johanna replied, her voice choked with tears. ��I served the queen faithfully, but she trusts the White Worm more.�� She couldn''tprehend how she, who had done so much for Lys and upheld the queen��s dignity, had ended up here.


    Rhaegar sighed, his tone carrying a hint of resignation. ��I told you to be more ruthless,�� he said. ��You never change.��


    When Lys was first conquered, he had warned her to purge the old aristocracy swiftly. Now, not only had she brought disaster upon herself, but she had also been caught selling ves��a severe breach of trust.


    ��I know I made a mistake,�� Johanna pleaded, clutching the bars and the fabric of Rhaegar��s ck robe. ��Save me, Your Grace.�� The thought of spending the rest of her life in this dungeon was unbearable. She knew Rhaenyra''s merciless nature would not allow for forgiveness.


    Rhaegar looked down at the once-proud ck Swan, now reduced to begging for mercy. His voice remained cold. ��Fix your bad habits, and there won��t be a next time.��


    ��Yes!�� Johanna��s face lit up with relief, nodding fervently, like a drowning woman grasping at a lifeline.


    ��The ship leaves tonight to take my eldest son to Myr,�� Rhaegar said, his tone darkening as he turned away. He had no patience for her feigned pitifulness. With that, he left the cell, his departure as cold and final as his words.


    Johanna, overwhelmed with gratitude, thanked him repeatedly, tears of relief streaming down her face.


    ...


    Back at the entrance to the dungeon, Addam approached quietly. ��Your Grace,�� he said, his voice low.


    ��Let her go,�� Rhaegar ordered without turning back. He knew Johanna��s current predicament was due in part to his own leniency and Rhaenyra��s oversight. But one thing was certain��under Johanna��s management, Lys had indeed thrived. She had the means, butcked the discipline.


    With this harsh lesson, perhaps her temperament would change when she moved to Myr, where the rules would be different.


    ...


    It was dusk in King''s Landing.


    After washing, Hena followed her mother down the corridor to visit her father, whoy bedridden as usual. They walked side by side, each lost in their own thoughts, their faces reflecting different emotions.


    ��Roar!��


    A sudden dragon''s cry echoed from the Red Keep, startling the servants bustling up and down the stairs. Hena quickly turned, leaning out of a nearby window to catch sight of themotion.


    ��Roar!��


    A brownish dragon soared leisurely overhead, descending tond in the Godswood behind the Red Keep.


    ��Aemond is back,�� Hena murmured, her expression unreadable.


    ...


    After some time, Aemond arrived, weary and dust-covered, with his sword at his waist. Alicent��s face lit up with joy at the sight of her lean, handsome second son.


    ��Aemond, my boy!�� she eximed, her eyes sweeping over him with a mother��s concern.


    ��Mother?�� Aemond��s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of doubt in his single eye. She wasn��t supposed to be here in the Red Keep.


    Alicent stepped forward, arms outstretched in wee. But Aemond abruptly sidestepped the embrace.


    ��No!�� he said, avoiding her touch.


    Alicent froze, her arms falling awkwardly to her sides. ��Aemond?��


    His face flushed with embarrassment, Aemond awkwardly deflected, ��Since you''re back, make sure to take good care of Father.�� He then nced at Hena, who stood silently by the bed, and gently pulled her away.


    He couldn''t understand why his mother still treated him like a child, yearning for maternal affection he had long outgrown. ''Targaryen men...'', he thought, ''didn��t need such burdens.''

 Chapter 587: Five Thrones

    Chapter 587: Five Thrones


    The siblings left together, leaving Alicent standing in shock. The sight of her second son��s coldness and the distance between them pierced her fragile heart. Tears welled up in her eyes, and her lips trembled.


    ...


    The Council Hall.


    Hena slowly pushed open the door, bathed in the soft light of evening. ��Come in,�� she whispered, stepping inside with ease. She paused, noticing the embroidery basket she had left in the corner, and settled down happily on the carpet to resume her work.


    Aemond nced around the room, curiosity in his voice as he asked, ��Do you often have to deal with government affairs?�� With their brother gone and Rhaenyra and Aegon each lost in their own pursuits, it seemed that only Hena was shouldering any responsibility within the vast Red Keep.


    ��Yes,�� Hena replied casually, a shy smile ying on her lips. ��I just sign the papers.��


    ��It��s not easy,�� Aemond muttered, leaning against the doorframe, momentarily speechless.


    Hena, focused on her embroidery, whispered softly, ��You have to go to the Smoking Sea.��


    ��Why?�� Aemond crossed his arms, puzzled.��To help him and carry on the legacy of our homnd,�� Hena answered seriously, her face set with determination. ��To ward off the darkness and cold of the future.��


    Aemond��s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of unease crossing his features. He was sensitive to such words��simr warnings hade from the maiden of the House of Aurion, who was rumored to be a fortune-teller. Shortly after that conversation, he had received a letter from Hena.


    After a moment of thought, he asked, ��What is this thing you speak of?��


    Hena tilted her head, sensing his guardedness. Aemond shrugged, deliberately concealing his thoughts about the fortune-teller.


    ��Okay,�� Hena nodded slightly, though her eyes seemed distant. ��I saw a disastering from the north.�� Her voice grew quieter. ��I can��t see clearly what it is... but the danger it brings is no less than that of the Doom.��


    Aemond, now more concerned, pressed on, ��What should I do?��


    ��I don��t know. What I saw was very vague.�� Hena lowered her head, her fingers moving more quickly as she focused on her embroidery.


    ��What else did you see?�� Aemond asked, a sense of urgency creeping into his voice. With everything that had happened recently��the ck goat, the descendants of Aurion, the divinations��even Hena��s cryptic words added to the mounting pressure he felt.


    ��Many things,�� Hena murmured, her hand pausing as a sudden nervousness overtook her. She had intended to share these visions with her brother, but...


    In Aemond��s startled and confused gaze, Hena gently stroked her swollen belly and muttered, ��He��s here, sitting on a wooden chair.��


    ��What?�� Aemond��s single eye widened, though he struggled to remain calm. ��You��re having a boy, aren��t you?��


    ��Maybe,�� Hena replied softly, lowering her head and tightening her grip on the tapestry she was embroidering.


    Aemond nced down at her work and saw the image of a fierce ck dragon with scarlet wings. Hena grew more anxious, her face gradually paling as she trembled.


    The siblings reacted differently to the unfolding tension. Aemond, transfixed by the sight, suddenly broke into a smile.


    ��My little nephew,�� he whispered, a hint of pride and anticipation in his voice.


    ...


    Nightfall in Lys, at the Topless Tower.


    Candlelight flickered in the dim room as Rhaegar sat at a round table in his bedroom, his mind entirely focused on the delicate task before him: the intricate carving of a ne. The steady sound of the carving knife, swish, swish, swish, filled the air as silver-gray steel shavings fell away, the de moving with increasingly precise strokes.


    A soft creak��then the door opened, and Rhaenyra entered, swaying slightly. Her beautiful face was flushed, a drop of fragrant wine lingering on her red lips.


    ��Rhaegar!�� she called softly, her voice slurred with the effects of the drink. She paused in the doorway, watching Rhaegar, who remained absorbed in his work. Though her head spun, she remembered not to disturb him and tiptoed forward, covering her mouth to stifle a hup.


    Rhaegar, engrossed in his task, was oblivious to her presence. Rhaenyra edged around the table until she stood opposite him, leaning in to get a closer look at what he was crafting. Before her was a ne of Valyrian steel, adorned with three dragon-head pendants.


    It was a family heirloom, a gift from Rhaegar in the days when they had been close.


    Suddenly, one of the dragon-head pendants began to glow faintly, its deep-set pupils shing red. Rhaenyra��s eyes widened in surprise, and she instinctively covered her mouth to keep from gasping aloud. The pendant, modeled after Balerion, had tiny letters engraved on its silver-gray scales, which seemed toe alive. The once-lifeless pupils now gleamed brightly.


    Swish, swish, swish...


    Rhaegar��s face grew pale, a thin sheen of sweat forming on his forehead as he continued to carve the second pendant. With the first pendant��s sess, his movements became fluid, almost effortless. He inscribed the spatial runes on the pendant shaped like Meraxes, wrapping it in his Spirit and infusing it with purified fire magic, connecting the intricate threads one by one.


    Hum��


    The pendant glowed with a reddish light, and Meraxes��s narrow pupils appeared, shimmering with a silver sheen. But the strain on Rhaegar was immense; his body stiffened, and his vision blurred as the toll of Spirit and fire magic weighed heavily on him. Despite his exhaustion, he pressed on, determined toplete the third and final pendant, based on Vhagar.


    One effort, two declines, three exhaustion.


    By now, his Spirit��s power had waned, shrinking from five meters to a mere one. If he didn��t finish now, he couldn��t be sure when inspiration would strike again. His face grew paler as he channeled thest reserves of his fire magic into carving the final pendant. Each scale, each spatial rune, was painstakingly etched, the fire magic binding it all together.


    Cold sweat dripped down his cheeks, and his fingers trembled uncontrobly.


    Hum��


    Finally, the fine inscriptions aligned, and a faint reddish glow emanated from the pendant. Vhagar hade to life, though its eyes remained closed. The pendant��s surface shimmered with a bluish luster, as if the dragon teeth were vying for attention. At that moment, Rhaegar��s strength gave out. His head spun, and his consciousness faded.


    Bang!


    He copsed forward, his forehead striking the table with a dull thud.


    ��Rhaegar!�� Rhaenyra gasped, frozen in shock for a moment before rushing to catch him in her arms. Rhaegar��s body was drenched in sweat, his eyes fluttering open in a daze. The first thing he saw was Rhaenyra��s anxious face hovering over him.


    In his hazy state, Rhaegar struggled to speak, his thoughts drifting aimlessly. ��No wonder... there��s a scent of milk and wine,�� he mused weakly before darkness overtook him.


    "Ooh~~��


    Rhaenyra��s concern deepened as a soft, squeaky noise emerged from beneath the table. The curtain draped along the floor rustled, and a tiny silver-haired baby poked her head out.


    ��Visenya?�� Rhaenyra��s mouth twitched with surprise. She hesitated, torn betweenying Rhaegar down and scooping up her daughter. Ultimately, she reached out to pick up the little one.


    ��Ooh~~��


    Visenya, full of energy, waved her tiny arms adorned with white silk, her two small teeth shing as she let out another squeal. Rhaenyra sighed helplessly, cradling her daughter in her arms. As she did, her eyes caught something odd��a small footprint on the back of Visenya��s white velvet dress.


    ��Hmm?�� Rhaenyra��s eyebrows arched as she nced at Rhaegar��s boots, making a quickparison.


    Rhaegar, still slumped over the table in a post-traumatic daze, was barely able to move. Yet he remained conscious, aware that he had unintentionally stepped on his daughter. It wasn��t entirely his fault��Visenya had been restless, crawling all around the bedroom. At some point, she had dozed off under the darkened table.


    ��Rhaegar, you''re really something!�� Rhaenyra couldn��t help butugh, amused that he, as a father, had managed to do such a thing.


    ��Ooh, ooh, ooh~~�� Visenya, unfazed, squirmed in her mother��s arms, searching for her bowl. She had been squished under the table for half an hour and was now hungry.


    Rhaenyra chuckled, giving Rhaegar a yful kick. ��I��ll let you off this time,�� she teased before carrying her hungry daughter back to the bed. With a practiced motion, she unhooked the back of her dress. Soon, the quiet sound of Visenya nursing filled the room as time slipped by.


    The night deepened, and Visenya eventually drifted into a peaceful sleep, curled up into a tiny ball.


    ��Shh!�� Rhaegar gasped as he sat up, clutching his head in pain. His temples throbbed, each pulse feeling like an impending explosion.


    ��You��re awake,�� Rhaenyra observed, approaching him with a cup of warm water, her dress still unfastened. The earlier chaos had sobered her somewhat, but Rhaegar remained groggy, his mind clouded.


    ��It��s nothing. First, take a look at these,�� Rhaegar muttered, shaking his head as he pushed the Valyrian ne aside, revealing a dragon-taming whip beneath it.


    ��Drink the water. It��s good for you,�� Rhaenyra insisted, picking up the ne. She noticed how it had undergone aplete transformation, both inside and out. Summoning a thread of fire magic from within her blood, she expertly channeled it into one of the pendants.


    Hum...


    A flicker of consciousness surged through Rhaenyra as she sensed a cramped space, norger than three feet square.


    Rhaegar gulped down the water and exhaled deeply. ��Look closely,�� he said, his voice weary but tinged with pride. ��This might be the best work I��ll produce for years.��


    His Spirit, once powerful enough to project several feet around him, was now depleted. The strain of his recent efforts had taken its toll, and his recovery felt as slow as a snail��s crawl.


    Rhaenyra shot him a concerned nce before turning her attention back to the ne. She explored the remaining two pendants in turn. The Meraxes pendant revealed a storage space of three feet square, while the final pendant, modeled after Vhagar, radiated a faint hum as she cautiously infused it with a wisp of fire magic.


    Hum...


    Her vision expanded, revealing a storage space three timesrger than the others��a full three meters square.


    ��Rhaegar, this pendant���� Rhaenyra��s voice was filled with awe. She hadn��t expected such a dramatic difference in capacity.


    Rhaegar smiled, clearly proud, though he attempted to downy his achievement. ��It��s probablyparable to Hena��s space bracelet. I doubt I could make it any bigger.��


    ��Can I use it?�� Rhaenyra asked, her excitement tempered by a hint of worry. The recent conflict with her brother before leaving King��s Landing weighed on her mind.


    ��Of course,�� Rhaegar replied, leaning back in his chair. He nced at her meaningfully. ��I noticed you haven��t been wearing the oldely.��


    Rhaenyra sensed an underlying message in his words but chose not to address it directly. Silently, she removed her current ne and reced it with the new dragon pendant. ��How does it look?�� she asked.


    ��It��s beautiful,�� Rhaegar said, momentarily lost in thought. Then, with a more serious expression, he pushed the dragon whip across the table toward her.


    Rhaenyra eyed the whip with skepticism, giving Rhaegar a questioning look.


    ��I��m leaving this with you,�� Rhaegar said, sitting up straighter as he regained hisposure. ��I��m heading to the Smoking Sea, and I need to ensure you and Baelon have something to protect you. Whether it��s this dragon ne or the whip for taming dragons, I want you to be safe if something happens to me or if trouble arises in my absence.��


    Rhaenyra hesitated, shaking her head. ��I have the ne. That��s enough.�� She knew she couldn��t dissuade Rhaegar from his perilous journey, but she also couldn��t ept the dragon whip. He needed it more than she did.


    ��No,�� Rhaegar insisted firmly. ��The dragon whip has limited use for me. Don��t refuse it.��


    Even if he didn��t leave it with Rhaenyra and Baelon, the dragon-taming tool needed to remain within the House. After the ��Dragon w�� incident, he wasn��t willing to lose another invaluable treasure.


    Rhaenyra, torn between her emotions, finally took the dragon whip with a resolute expression. Rhaegar��s words had been so tinged with foreboding that she feltpelled to prepare for the worst.

 Chapter 588: Your Mother Must Have Been a Beauty

    Chapter 588: Your Mother Must Have Been a Beauty


    ��What did you discover on your trip to Sothoryos?�� Rhaenyra asked, lowering her gaze and shifting the conversation.


    ��Fortunately, we encountered an old dragon,�� Rhaegar replied, catching her intent and smiling. ��If the opportunity arises, the children could try to tame it.��


    The 300-year-old Uragax, a wild dragon without a rider, had honed its skills in bothbat and survival over centuries. Capturing it had been no small feat; only the Cannibal''s superior abilities had made it possible.


    ��There really is a wild dragon?�� Rhaenyra��s eyes reddened, her voice thick with emotion. But as a mother, her thoughts immediately turned to her eldest son, Baelon, who had long desired an adult dragon of his own.


    ��Mm-hmm,�� Rhaegar said, his chin lifting with pride. Adding an adult dragon to the House, one with the potential for a long life, felt even more significant than conquering a new territory.


    Rhaenyra couldn��t help butugh at his proud expression.


    ��Ooh~~��


    Visenya stirred, shifting her position in her sleep. Rhaenyra nced at her daughter and chuckled. ��She doesn��t look like a dragon at all��more like a little piglet.��


    ��You��ll have to deal with thatter,�� Rhaegar said with a grin, propping his chin on one hand as he watched his daughter sleep. She had inherited her mother��s grace. He remembered how, as a child, he had nearly been smothered beneath those long, supple legs.Rhaenyra sat down beside him, the dragon-taming whip still in her hands. After a moment of contemtion, she spoke abruptly. ��If you��re nning to leave, you should call Baelon back.��


    ��Why?�� Rhaegar frowned slightly.


    Rhaenyra��s expression was serious. ��He��s your eldest son. With you away, it��s only right that I take care of him.��


    She had been opposed to Baelon��s departure for Myr from the start, and now seemed like the perfect time to bring him home.


    ��No,�� Rhaegar replied firmly.


    Rhaenyra looked puzzled, not understanding his refusal.


    Rhaegar shook his head before exining, ��He��s better off in Myr than in King��s Landing or Lys.��


    Baelon was growing up, and it was time for him to learn and mature away from home, whether he ended up with a dragon or not. Maekar was thriving in Vntis, as Tnd, his adviser, had reported. Baelon, as his eldest son and heir to the Iron Throne, needed to set an example��especially since his siblings all had dragons, and he did not. Proving himself elsewhere would strengthen his authority and earn the respect of his siblings.


    Rhaenyra, less strategic in her thinking, countered, ��He could learn from me.��


    ��No!�� Rhaegar��s tone was unyielding. He had known Rhaenyra since childhood and understood her well. While she could raise a good son, she might not be able to nurture a strong heir.


    He had already made arrangements: Jeyne would oversee Myr, with Baelon and his sister Daenerys under her care. With Jeyne��s iron-fisted rule over the Vale, there was no one better suited to guide and serve as a role model for the children.


    "Why?" Rhaenyra demanded, her voice tinged with indignation.


    Rhaegar remained silent. He couldn��t tell her that he doubted her abilities or that he was entrusting their eldest son to Jeyne��s care instead. If he did, there would be no peace between them.


    ��Rhaegar, you��re always so high and mighty,�� Rhaenyra muttered, her fingers absently stroking the pendant around her neck as she struggled to suppress her rising temper. The discussion about the children had shattered the fragile harmony between them.


    Rhaenyra bit her lower lip and sat down beside him. Rhaegar remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.


    Rhaenyra closed her eyes, gently leaning her head against his chest, trying to find afortable position to snuggle in. They hadn��t seen each other for a long time and would soon part again. She wanted to bridge the growing distance between them.


    But Rhaegar felt uneasy, as if ants were crawling all over his skin. He leaned back slightly, but Rhaenyra stopped him with a gentle hand.


    ��Rhaegar~~�� she murmured, deliberately softening her tone as she rested her forehead against his neck.


    ��Ahem!�� Rhaegar��s face flushed with difort, and he abruptly stood up. Rhaenyra, caught off guard, blinked in surprise.


    ��You should rest. I��ll head down to the harbor and check on things. The Sea Snake should be arriving soon,�� Rhaegar said, taking a deep breath before turning to leave.


    He didn��t fully understand why he felt this way��whether it was his exhaustion, the lingering tension from theirst argument, or something else. But with Rhaenyra so close, he couldn��t rx. He didn��t want to continue this delicate dance of closeness and distance.


    Bang!


    The door closed behind him, and Rhaenyra was left in stunned silence. Tears welled up in her eyes as she clutched the pendant in her hand, her mind racing. She had never been treated like this before. For the first time, she felt a deep, chilling loneliness.


    ...


    It was early in the morning.


    "Woof, woof~~"


    Rhaegar was abruptly awakened by a wet, slobbery sensation on his face.


    ��What in the��?�� he mumbled, groggy and half-asleep, as he opened his eyes to find a small ck dog yfully jumping around him. Rhaegar sat up, disoriented, realizing he was covered in thick hay. He nced around and saw that he was in a rtively clean stable.


    ��Sshhhh����


    Rhaegar took a moment to gather his thoughts, trying to remember how he ended up here. Then it hit him��he, the king of a great kingdom, had fallen asleep in a stable.


    ��Shame on you,�� he muttered to himself, rubbing his forehead as he staggered out of the low-ceilinged room.


    As soon as he stepped outside, a familiar figure came into view. Before Rhaegar could speak, the other person beat him to it.


    Aemond leaned casually against a horse post, a yful smile on his face. ��I didn��t expect your tastes to change so quickly.��


    Rhaegar shot him a cold look, his expression a mix of irritation and embarrassment. ��If you have something to say, say it. If not, get out of here.��


    Aemond''s grin widened, his words dripping with mockery. ��I heard that someone got kicked out of the pce and had to sleep on the streets for days when they first arrived.��


    Rhaegar��s re intensified, but he remained silent, refusing to dignify the taunt with a response.


    Aemond, emboldened by Rhaegar��s silence, continued, ��But honestly, I don��t me you. If it were me, I��d rather sleep with an animal than that stupid woman.��


    Bang!


    Before he could finish, Rhaegar��s fist crashed into Aemond��s face like a hammer. With a dark expression, Rhaegar grabbed Aemond by the back of the head and mmed him against the horse post. ��If you talk nonsense again, I��ll rip out your tongue,�� he warned, his voice deadly serious.


    Aemond winced in pain, blood trickling from his mouth. The blow had stunned him, reminding him of Rhaegar''s formidable strength.


    Rhaegar released him, letting him fall into the hay. ��You��re here, so don��t make things difficult,�� he growled.


    ��Yes, Your Grace,�� Aemond replied, the fight knocked out of him. He struggled to his feet, sighing in resignation. ��When do we leave?��


    ��You��re not going,�� Rhaegar said tly, not even bothering to look up as he scooped water from a nearby sink to drink.


    ��Hena told me to go with you to explore the Smoking Sea,�� Aemond insisted, his tone shifting to seriousness.


    Rhaegar sshed some water on his face, then reached out to pat Aemond��s shoulder. ��You stay. The House needs a Warden,�� he said, his voice firm.


    Aemond watched as Rhaegar wiped his wet hand on his shoulder, then sighed, ��I should go with you to the Smoking Sea.��


    Rhaegar withdrew his hand and asked pointedly, ��If I go, how many dragons does the House have left?��


    Aemond frowned, about to respond, but then paused, realizing the implications. There were many dragon riders in the family, but not enough to leave their holdings unprotected. Laena and Hena were pregnant, their dragons temporarily grounded. Sunfyre was seriously injured, and Aegon had gone to Harrenhal for his honeymoon. Syrax and Tessarion were hardly worth mentioning in battle. If Rhaegar and Aemond both left, only Daemon and Rhaenys would remain to defend their territories.


    Reading Aemond��s thoughts, Rhaegar added, ��Aunt Rhaenys has sent word that Daemon will join us.��


    That would leave only Meleys, the sole remaining adult dragon.


    Aemond��s expression darkened, the weight of responsibility settling heavily on him. He realized that the Targaryen holdings on both sides of the Narrow Sea needed at least two full-grown dragons to ensure their safety.


    ��Aemond, the House needs a Warden for now,�� Rhaegar said, his voice firm as he mmed his fist into Aemond��s chest. ��I want you to swear that you will serve my eldest son, now and in the future.��


    Rhaegar knew that, despite his confidence, anything could happen on the Smoking Sea. He couldn��t afford to leave things to chance.


    Aemond remained silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in.


    Rhaegar''s gaze was deep and unwavering. "Swear your loyalty to Baelon. If you break this oath, your fire will be extinguished in the darkness."


    ��I swear...�� Aemond��s single eye, dark and inscrutable, met Rhaegar��s. ��If I break my oath, my fire will go out in the darkness.��


    ��Very well.�� Rhaegar smiled, then reached into his robe and withdrew a stone tablet, cing it in Aemond��s hands. Aemond looked down at it, noting several lines of High Valyrian script. The first two words tranted to ��Bronze.��


    A spark of interest lit in Aemond��s eye as he carefully studied the tablet.


    ��You��re already proficient in binding spells,�� Rhaegar remarked, his tone light but encouraging. ��You��ll master the rune system quickly.��


    Among their siblings, after Rhaenyra and Hena, Daeron had been the third to learn the ��Bronze�� rune. But with the shifting circumstances, it was now time to teach Aegon and Aemond as well.


    ��Thank you,�� Aemond murmured, turning his head to express his gratitude.


    Suddenly, a deafening roar echoed across Lys, reverberating for miles.


    ��Roar...��


    A massive, scarlet, snake-like creature soared through the clouds, hovering above the city. Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm.


    Rhaegar��s words faltered as he looked up, his eyes narrowing at the sight.


    ��Land, Caraxes!�� A figure atop the dragonmanded with a sardonic smile, his arms outstretched to the wind.


    "Roar!"


    Caraxes unleashed a torrent of Dragonfire, descending with a dramatic re. With a loud pop, the dragonnded before the people of Lys, mes still licking around it. From within the scarlet ze, a man and his dragon emerged, striding forward with ostentatious confidence.


    Only Rhaegar saw whaty beneath the disy. Daemon��s spirit had transformed, brimming with renewed vitality.


    ��Dark Sister!�� Aemond��s eye zed with intensity as he noticed the sword strapped to Daemon��s back��the legendary de of their House.


    Rhaegar followed Aemond��s gaze, realizing for the first time that Daemon was indeed carrying the Dark Sister, the ancestral sword of House Targaryen.


    ...


    The Harbor


    The massive fleet of House Vryon was docked, its sails furled and hulls creaking softly against the piers.


    ��Hurry up, and be careful with the crates,�� Addammanded, his brow furrowed as he directed the sailors unloading the cargo.


    ��Roar!��


    A scarlet dragon suddenly swooped overhead, its roar piercing the air as its ws scraped against the solid stone floor of the harbor. The sailors nced up in rm, then collectively exhaled in relief.


    Addam echoed their sentiments, muttering to himself, ��Meleys...��


    Bang!


    Rhaenys, d in ck armor, dismounted from the dragon��s back with practiced ease. She removed her leather gloves and strode purposefully toward the young man who was watching her with a mix of admiration and awe.


    ��Princess!�� Addam quickly bowed, not daring to meet her gaze.


    Rhaenys waved a hand dismissively, her tone calm butmanding. ��Look up. Let me take a good look at you.��


    ��Yes, Princess.�� Addam hesitated briefly before lifting his head, revealing a young and handsome face.


    Rhaenys paused, slightly taken aback by the resemnce to her husband. She reached out and gently touched his face, her expression softening with mixed emotions. ��You have a distinctive face. Your mother must have been a beauty.��


    Startled by her gesture, Addam quickly stepped back, careful not to overstep his bounds.


    ��Rhaenys!��


    A deep voice called out from above. Sea Snake descended from the deck, his gaze briefly settling on Addam before turning to his wife. His expression was stern as he asked, ��Have you finished your work?��


    ��Not yet, my lord.�� Addam, sensing the shift in atmosphere, wisely withdrew from the scene.


    The Sea Snake��s demeanor remainedposed as he approached Rhaenys, his usual calmness masking whatever thoughtsy beneath.

 Chapter 589: The Sea Snake’s Sigh

    Chapter 589: The Sea Snake��s Sigh


    It was a bright morning. Rhaegar was making his usual rounds of the harbor, where the sailors were as busy as bees.


    "Your Grace."


    As he approached, the Sea Snake descended from arge ship, greeting him respectfully.


    "How are the provisionsing along, Lord Corlys?" Rhaegar asked, noticing a herd of goats being driven onto the ship.


    The Sea Snake, confident and assured, replied, "Don''t worry, there''s enough to feed three dragons for a month."


    "That''s good," Rhaegar responded, continuing to survey the harbor. He had a hunch that the Sea Snake had something on his mind.


    "Your Grace, I have something to report." Sure enough, the Sea Snake leaned in slightly, taking the initiative.


    Rhaegar withdrew his gaze and smiled faintly. "Tell me," he thought, curious about what the old Sea Snake wanted.


    "Recently, the pirates around the Stepstones have be more rampant, seriously affecting maritime transportation," the Sea Snake reported gravely. "In my opinion, since Prince Aegon''s Sunfyre has been injured, we should send a reliable fleet to deal with it decisively.""Oh, which fleet should we send?" Rhaegar asked, feigning surprise as he nced at therge ships in the harbor, all flying the Seahorse banners.


    "As you can see, I have mobilized the entire fleet of House Vryon," the Sea Snake said proudly. "The Smoking Sea is dangerous, but you don''t need all the ships to go. Leave half of them to deal with the bandits."


    Rhaegar chuckled. "That''s a good suggestion." Looking at the dozens ofrge ships in the harbor, he realized that the Sea Snake had almost exhausted House Vryon''s resources. Leaving half of them to clear out the pirates was as much a political maneuver as anything else.


    "It''s all for the sake of our respective houses," he thought. ''There''s nothing more to say.''


    "I thank you on behalf of the sailors, Your Grace," the Sea Snake said sincerely, fully aware of the significance of his actions.


    Rhaegar waved his hand and asked, "Before we set off, is there anything else you need?" The Smoking Sea is fraught with danger, and less than 10 out of 100 survivors make it back.


    The Sea Snake, a mere mortal, couldn''t afford to be too lenient when it came to the fleet''s confrontation with the Smoking Sea and its perils. Hearing the king''s question, the Sea Snake had a sudden inspiration and decisively said, "Your Grace, I have a first mate who once saved Prince Maekar and me. He is an upright and loyal young man."


    "I know. Addam, right?" Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed slightly, sensing a shift in the conversation.


    "Yes, that''s him," the Sea Snake admitted readily but struggled to find the right words. "If you will allow me to apany you to the Smoking Sea, he willmand the fleet of House Vryon. I believe he is more reliable than a young girl like Rhaena."


    Rhaegar''s smile faded, sensing something amiss. The Sea Snake''srge hands clenched, and he hesitated before adding, "Rhaena is still too young tomand the unruly naval forces. She is more suitable for a position in the pce."


    Rhaegar frowned, scrutinizing the man before him. The hesitation in Corlys''s words was telling.


    Rhaegar''s tone hardened. "Lord Corlys, Rhaena is your chosen heir. I don''t think the Lord of Driftmark needs to be proficient in sailing."


    "Of course not," the Sea Snake conceded, taking a deep breath before making a final plea. "But a young girl who gets seasick before she even boards a ship is hardly the person to lead House Vryon in the service of the realm."


    The longer Corlys spent with House Targaryen, the more he saw through their intricate schemes. Compared to his granddaughter, who was only distantly rted by blood, he favored his bastard, who was also of the salt and the sea.


    Rhaegar caught the underlying message and responded, displeased, "Lord Corlys, Rhaena is the daughter of Laena, a dragon with blood and fire."


    "That''s just a little dragon that won''t grow up!" the Sea Snake retorted, his voice rising unnecessarily.


    Rhaegar''s expression turned icy, his gaze cold. ''What a joke!'' he thought. ''He had begged and pleaded to adopt Rhaena as his own so that she could inherit Driftmark after Laenor''s death. Now that he had raised a capable bastard, he wanted to discard her like a worn-out shoe. What does the Targaryen bloodline mean to him?''


    Rhaegar sneered, about to reprimand him, when a sudden voice cut through the tension.


    ��Corlys!��


    Rhaenys''s deep voice interrupted the conversation. Rhaegar raised an eyebrow, ncing out over the deck. Rhaenys had appeared out of nowhere, her elbows resting on the railing, staring at her husband and nephew.


    ��Aunt,�� Rhaegar greeted her, frowning inwardly. His mind was exhausted, and his guard was down. He hadn''t even noticed her approach.


    ��Your Grace.�� Rhaenys nodded slightly, her gaze shifting to her silent husband. ��Corlys, we haven''t finished discussing what happened earlier.��


    ��Your Grace, I still have some ships to inspect,�� Corlys replied, bowing before departing, feeling lost.


    Rhaegar didn''t stop him and looked up at his aunt, who seemed preupied. Rhaenys, feigning strength, changed the subject. ��Daemon is back.��


    ��I saw that,�� Rhaegar replied with a nod, adding, "He''s very proud, not at all like someone who''s suffered a setback."


    Rhaenys considered this for a moment before revealing the truth: "I gave him Dark Sister back."


    ��I saw that too," Rhaegar responded, his eyes widening in surprise, waiting for more.


    Rhaenys didn��t hesitate. ��Daemon is an integral part of the family. It would be good for him, and for the family, if he were to be a capable Prince of the Targaryens.��


    At fifty, Daemon was the most insightful among them. What he had pursued all his life was nothing more than the word "recognition." Returning Dark Sister to him and taking on the responsibilities of the Prince of the Targaryens was the only way to bind the Rogue Prince to an unbreakable yoke.


    Rhaegar was quiet, lowering his head in deep thought. He had never considered making Daemon a Prince of the Targaryens. Deep down, he believed a good uncle was an unreliable presence.


    Rhaenys remained silent, waiting patiently for her nephew to decide.


    The waves gentlypped the shore, and the salty sea breeze blew. Rhaegar''s thoughts surged, a thousand words buried in his heart, but he only said, ��Give him a chance to prove himself on the Smoking Sea.��


    With that, he turned and left the harbor.


    ...


    At noon, everything was ready, and the fleet set sail from the harbor.


    "Roar..."


    A scarlet dragon, serpentine and fierce, glided past, roaring as it leaped across the vast sea.


    Whoo-hoo-hoo!


    The horn sounded, and the g of the seahorse fluttered in the wind. The Sea Snake, d in silver-gray armor, stood solemnly at the front of the deck. The ships moved forward, forming a medium-sized fleet.


    "May the Merman King bless us," the Sea Snake whispered, ncing back at the ships still anchored in the harbor. Half of the fleet had set sail, heading toward the Stepstones.


    On the lead ship, a figure with silver hair and dark skin stood tall. The Sea Snake watched in awe, silently praying, ''I hope I''ve made the right choice and will return safely.''


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, a young ck dragon flew overhead, its scarlet wings pping furiously, making the sails creak in the wind. The Sea Snake''s body swayed, his gaze locked on the dragon, his emotions a turbulent mix.


    Once upon a time, his eldest son had tamed Seasmoke as a child and sailed with him on the back of his dragon.


    ...


    Topless Tower, the Queen''s Chambers


    "Look, Grandpa''s off!"


    The children were noisy and boisterous as Rhaena leaned out of the window to watch the fleet of ships departing in a flurry.


    "The Blood Wyrm is so cool," Aemon said, holding Ba''s hand as they both gazed up at the scarlet dragon soaring overhead.


    "Okay, go y," Rhaenyra said wearily, leaning against the headboard as she sent the children off. The estrangement between the siblings was exhausting.


    "Oh~" The children, sensing her fatigue, left together.


    Rhaenyra sighed and struggled to her feet.


    Roar!


    The sound of a dragon''s roar reverberated for miles, shaking the tables and chairs in the tower. Rhaenyra stuck her head out of the window, peering at the cliffs that stretched across the coast.


    Hoo!


    A massive ck dragon stepped forward, crushing rocks beneath its sharp ws before spreading its wings and soaring into the sky. The dragon''s shadow swept past, shaking the fleet below as if it were a curtain blocking out the sun. The first two dragons ahead of it were smaller and more agile.


    Rhaenyra was transfixed, her eyes fixed on the tall, dark figure riding the dragon.


    Knock, knock!


    The door opened, and the voice of herpanion, Elinda, came through. "Your Grace, shall I wash you?" Without waiting for a response, Elinda, dressed as a maid, entered, carrying a basin in her hands.


    Rhaenyra leaned against the window frame, allowing herpanion tob her silver hair into a delicate braid.


    "Are you all right?" Elinda asked, her eyes filled with worry.


    Rhaenyra, momentarily distracted, turned to see the family sword, "The Realm''s Delight," hanging on the wall. By now, the fleet had turned into tiny ck dots on the sea, and the three dragon shadows had disappeared, leaving no trace behind.


    As if in a trance, Rhaenyra walked over to the wall and took down "The Realm''s Delight." She unsheathed the sword, its de cold and sharp, humming as it cut through the air. She held the sword sideways, as if seeking sce in it. Gradually, her dazed mood began to lift.


    ''I am The Realm''s Delight,'' she thought, ''the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and the Queen of Dragons. My goal is to be Queen of Visenya. In Rhaegar''s absence, I will be the one to keep peace in the Seven Kingdoms.''


    "Your Grace," Elinda said, terrified and too scared to approach "The Realm''s Delight."


    Rhaenyra nced back at her, her voice surprisingly firm. "I''m fine."


    ...


    The Roofless Dragonpit


    "Aren''t you going to see him off?"


    Mysaria stood a little further away, cradling a curly-haired puppy in her arms. Laena shook her head gently, replying calmly, "Daemon is not a sentimental person, and neither am I."


    "That''s true. He''s always gone after making a promise," Mysaria said, shaking her head with augh tinged with disappointment and self-deprecation.


    "This time is different." Laena''s voice was soft, yet there was an inexplicable confidence in her words. She lifted her pale, emaciated face, a quiet determination emanating from her.


    Daemon had seen her before he left, and the two had shared a tender moment. He had made no promises, but his determination to capture a young dragon and bring it back was unmistakable.


    Mysaria frowned deeply, hesitating for a moment before murmuring, "Maybe..."


    ...


    Myr, the Magister''s Pce


    "Roar..." A light gray dragon shadow shed across the sky, darting into the lush garden before curling up its massive body.


    "Where is it?" Nettles, dressed in a rough hemp robe and holding a bamboo staff, emerged from the pce. She was d in the attire of a Dragonkeeper. As she ran out, Baelon and Dany followed close behind.


    With a scarred, crooked nose, Nettles shouted loudly, "Come out, you cowardly little dragon!"


    "Stop shouting, you don''t have to do that," Baelon said, embarrassed as he tried to stop her.


    "It''s okay!" Nettles raised her chin defiantly and patted the barren hillock. "We''ll y hide-and-seek, and I''ll chase it back to Dragonstone."


    "Prince!" At that moment, Syrio appeared, walking lightly, his fluffy brown curls slightly oily.


    Baelon turned around, his expression shifting to one of unease. Syrio bent down and whispered in his ear.


    "What!?" Baelon��s eyes widened in rm as he eximed, "Braavos has sent a fleet to Pentos?"

 Chapter 590: The Return of the Blacks and Greens

    Chapter 590: The Return of the cks and Greens


    Time flies, and it was already mid-July. The fleet had set out early in the morning, crossing the Narrow Sea, the Vntis Sea, and finally arriving at the fog-shrouded Smoking Sea.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal let out a fierce roar, its gaze sweeping warily over the Smoking Sea, vividly recalling thest time they had ventured into these treacherous waters.


    "Don''t be afraid, old friend," Rhaegar said solemnly, holding a map in his hand. "This time, we''re not going in blindly."


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal''s green eyes gleamed with hostility as it stared at the smoky barrier ahead. The wild dragon''s instincts warned of the dangers lurking within thend of smoke and sea.


    A sudden roar cut through the air.


    Daemon turned abruptly and, with a proud tone,manded, "Follow me!"


    Rhaegar, momentarily taken aback, patted the Cannibal''s broad back. "Don''t lose!""Roar!"


    Cannibal''s green pupils narrowed, and it surged forward, crashing into the thick, sulfurous fog, charging ahead to catch up.


    "Roar!"


    Iragaxys hesitated briefly before following, not wanting to be left behind.


    Below, on the sea, the Sea Snake gazed solemnly at the Smoking Sea. His lips, cracked from the harsh sea air, parted as he gave themand, "Let''s go!"


    Whoo-hoo-hoo!


    The fleet echoed with the mournful sound of horns as the sailors sailed into the Smoking Sea, as if they were marching to their deaths.


    ...


    For several days, they sailed on. The sky remained misty, the sea deathly quiet, and everything was eerily calm.


    Hoo-hoo!


    The Cannibal''s green pupils narrowed slightly as it soared through the thick fog.


    "Roar!"


    Iragaxys whinnied in panic, following closely behind, afraid of getting lost.


    "Slow down, old friend," Rhaegar urged, ncing around as he lit a ss candle in his hand.


    Hum...


    The wick caught fire, illuminating the scene for miles around. The sky and sea were cloaked in a dense mist, and the waterpped gently against unseen rocks.


    After confirming that the route was clear of danger, Rhaegar pulled out a weathered stone disk covered in cracks, using fire magic to move the pointer.


    "Roar!"


    Iragaxys startled and instinctively moved away from thepass. Rhaegar gave the dragon a reassuring nce before retrieving a small, dark dragon scale from his cloak.


    There were two main objectives for entering the Smoking Sea this time: to find the dragon horn buried underground and to capture the blue young dragon left behind. Iragaxys and the blue dragon were siblings, and the scale provided guidance for the dragonpass. The little one had been brought along to help lure out the young dragon.


    Hum...


    The dragon-findingpass glowed dimly as the pointer spun in circles. Rhaegar licked his lips, carefully tucking thepass away. Thepass indicated that they were still far from the young dragon, and the power of a single scale was limited.


    A sudden roar cut through the air as Caraxes broke through the fog, revealing its full form after a long glide.


    "What��s ahead?" Rhaegar shouted, using his binding magic tomunicate.


    Daemon gripped the saddle tightly, his voice solemn. "There''s nothing ahead. It''s roughly the same path I took before." He had once ventured to a lost continent��likely a majorndmass in the Lands of the Long Summer, which included a certain fire peak. Exploring that continent promised great rewards.


    "Then let��s go." Rhaegar reced the ss candle, casting its light forward to guide their way. With so many skills at his disposal, this journey would be far different from thest.


    ...


    Lys, the Council Chamber.


    Tap, tap, tap...


    The sound of orderly footsteps echoed through the corridor as Rhaenyra, d in ck dragon-riding clothes, strode in.


    ��Your Grace,�� Erryk and Lorent, the Kingsguard, stood guard at the door.


    Rhaenyra gave a faint "hmm" in acknowledgment and pushed the door open.


    Bang!


    Inside, Aemond sat at the head of the table, his legs casually propped up on the desk��a posture dripping with arrogance.


    Rhaenyra frowned slightly and warned, "That''s not the position you should be in."


    "Is that so?" Aemond leaned back in his chair, a smirk ying on his lips. "It''s quitefortable."


    "Aemond, stop it," Daeron, standing across from him, interjected with a stern look. Without Rhaegar present, Aemond was getting toofortable, neglecting the gravity of their situation.


    "Tsk, fine." Aemond rolled his eyes, swinging his legs off the table and adjusting his posture.


    Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes, anger simmering beneath the surface at his provocation. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself to remain patient. "Let''s get down to business."


    She shook her head and sat down, her gaze sweeping across the room. Apart from the three siblings, only Mysaria, the White Worm, and Varys, the steward of the Topless Tower, were present. Varys, as always, maintained a cid smile, staying out of matters beyond the Topless Tower''s walls. Rhaenyra hadn''t expected him to contribute, and instead turned her attention to Mysaria, the new steward of Lys.


    "Your Grace," Mysaria, her pregnancy evident, spoke with a solemn tone. "The pirates of the Stepstones have grown bolder, but thanks to Addam''s efforts, peace has been restored."


    "He is a true warrior," Rhaenyra nodded approvingly, satisfied with the Sea Snake''s choice of fleetmander.


    Aemond interrupted, "What else?"


    Rhaegar had been gone for two months, and much had transpired on both sides of the Narrow Sea.


    Mysaria shot him a nce, frowning slightly. "Princess Rhaenys reports that Braavos and Pentos have formed an alliance against Qohor and are sending their fleets to stir up trouble near The Gullet."


    Aemond''s face darkened. Qohor was his domain, and Braavos and Pentos were acting as if they could drive him out with impunity.


    Rhaenyra seized the moment to sneer, "Your rashness and impulsiveness have given the enemy an excuse for revenge."


    Braavos and Pentos, usually sworn enemies, now shared amon threat: House Targaryen. If the two Free Cities truly intended to help the people of Qohor regain their city, they would have recruited sellswords to attack, not sent their fleets to hover menacingly near The Gullet. They were testing the Iron Throne''s defenses, aware that Rhaegar, Daemon, and the Sea Snake had gone to the Smoking Sea, and believing this to be the Iron Throne''s most vulnerable moment. Their goal was clear��revenge and the suppression of Targaryen rule.


    Aemond, ever sensitive to mockery, retorted coldly, "Vultures are vultures. They only crave flesh and blood." In other words, he believed that even if he hadn��t taken Qohor, the revenge would havee regardless.


    Rhaenyra snorted in disgust, choosing not to argue further.


    Daeron looked around, attempting to diffuse the tension. "The fleet is probing The Gullet''s defenses. They probably won''t attack, right?"


    "They dare!" Aemond snarled, drawing his one-eyed dagger and mming it down on the table.


    Mysaria met his outburst with a cold stare, analyzing the situation with calcted calm. "My suggestion is that we send Addam''s fleet back to Driftmark to keep the enemy out of the city."


    The royal fleet had only one squadron stationed on Dragonstone, which couldn''t be easily mobilized. The Stepstones, along with the Free Cities of Myr and Lys, had not yet developed a strong fleet. Facing the elite navies of Braavos and Pentos, the only viable option was to recall the fleet of House Vryon.


    Rhaenyra nodded in agreement and instructed the tower master, ��Send a message to Addamter.��


    "Yes, Your Grace,�� Varys replied, his hands tucked into his pockets, his demeanor obedient.


    Mysaria coughed lightly and suggested, ��Addam has done an excellent job eliminating the pirates. To demonstrate the Queen��s wisdom, perhaps he should be knighted.��


    Rhaenyra considered this for a moment and agreed, ��Granted.��


    ��If you want a horse to run, you have to feed it,�� she thought, knowing that the Sea Snake had entrusted Addam to her with the expectation of earning military honors.


    ��Damn it, when will this boring council meeting end?�� Aemond grumbled, clearly losing patience with the proceedings.


    ��If you find it boring, you��re free to leave,�� Rhaenyra responded, her expression unchanged, no longer willing to tolerate his rudeness.


    Aemond sneered. "Are you ordering me?"


    Bang! Rhaenyra mmed her hand on the table, pointing directly at him. "I am the Queen, the Queen of Lys, and you are in my territory now."


    ��Queen?�� Aemond retorted with a mocking smile. He leaned over the table, taunting, ��Rhaegar didn��t even bother to touch you.��


    His words struck Rhaenyra like a dagger. She turned pale, fury surging within her as she instinctively reached for the "<em>Realm''s Delight</em>" at her waist.


    Aemond��s sharp eyes caught the movement, and he too reached for the ck hilt of his sword, his expression darkening.


    The tension between them grew as they inched closer, on the brink of a violent sh.


    Sensing the danger, Daeron quickly intervened, pulling Aemond away from the table. ��Lady Mysaria, if you have something to say, say it quickly,�� he urged. "If you don��t speak now, you might not get another chance. Our brother has only been gone for two months��we can��t afford to turn on each other."


    ��Hmph!�� Aemond snorted, shaking off Daeron��s grip and returning to his seat, though his demeanor remained tense.


    Rhaenyra��s cold gaze didn��t waver, her hand still sweaty from gripping her sword��s hilt.


    ��We need a dragon,�� Mysaria interjected, her voice sharp and urgent. ��Princess Rhaenys can��t patrol The Gullet and the upper Narrow Sea alone. She needs a dragon rider.��


    ��Who will go?�� Aemond asked, dropping his sword onto the table, showing no inclination to volunteer.


    ording to Rhaegar��s n, Aemond was tasked with overseeing Dorne and the Stepstones, including the lower Narrow Sea and Vntis. He had no time for additional duties.


    Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes, realizing she was the only adult dragon rider in the House who could be spared. But she hesitated, wondering how Aemond might behave if she left Lys.


    ��I��ll go,�� Daeron offered unexpectedly.


    Rhaenyra blinked in surprise. ��Your dragon is still young,�� she said, concerned.


    ��It��s fine,�� Daeron replied, scratching his head with a smile. Compared to staying in Lys and dealing with the escting tension, patrolling The Gullet and the upper Narrow Sea seemed a far more appealing option. Aemond��s sudden shift to arrogance and hostility was unsettling, and Daeron preferred to avoid further conflict.


    Rhaenyra considered it carefully, then nodded. Tessarion was nearly fully grown, after all. ��Go, but promise not to start a war. Your first priority is your own safety.��


    ��I promise,�� Daeron said, nodding vigorously, puffing out his chest with a mix of determination and youthful eagerness.


    ��Be careful when you encounter the enemy, and don��t panic,�� Aemond advised, idly twirling his one-eyed dagger as he offered his hard-won experience.


    Daeron epted the advice humbly and walked out of the chamber. Mysaria and Varys exchanged nces before silently following him.


    In the now-emptied council hall, Aemond sat upright, defiance burning in his one eye. Rhaenyra stared at him for a long moment before stepping back and exiting the room.

 Chapter 591: Accidentally Entering the Land of Long Summer

    Chapter 591: identally Entering the Land of Long Summer


    The Smoking Sea.


    The sky and sea were shrouded in a thick mist, the surroundings eerily silent and lifeless.


    "Roar!"


    The acrid stench of smoke filled the air as a smoky, emerald-green dragon me erupted from the sky.


    Boom!


    A dpidated ship was struck, its already weakened mast copsing with a thunderous crash.


    "Roar..."


    The ship''s hull shuddered violently, and suddenly, countless Stone Men emerged, their heads poking out as they roared and snarled like wild beasts.


    "Dracarys!" Rhaegar''s voice was as cold as ice, and he gave themand without hesitation.Cannibal''s green pupils glinted with ferocity as it unleashed a torrent of dragonfire, venting its pent-up rage.


    "Roar..."


    With a muffled roar, the dark green mespletely engulfed the ship, swallowing it piece by piece. The Stone Men, like ants on a burning pan, iled and screamed in torment as dragonfire consumed them. The ship slowly sank, and the wretched figures aboard plunged into the water like so many falling dumplings.


    "Ready, release the arrows!"


    Two hundred meters away, the Sea Snake watched grimly,manding the sailors to fire.


    With the sound of arrows piercing flesh, the sea turned blood-red. In no time, everything was still once more.


    Rhaegar guided the Cannibal higher into the sky, matching pace with the serpentine Caraxes. Daemon''s eyes were calm, though a deep, unreadable expression crossed his face.


    "It��s all settled," Rhaegar said indifferently, ncing sideways.


    The sunken ship had flown the g of ver��s Bay, and the doomed Stone Men had been dressed as sellswords and ves, with a few wearing armor bearing the three-headed red dragon emblem. They were the remnants of those who had followed his Good Uncle into the Smoking Seast time.


    Daemon rubbed his face and said calmly, "Let''s go. I think I can see the ind."


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes and Daemon moved as one, therge scarlet wings of the dragon pping as they dove into the smoke that obscured their view.


    "Be careful!" Rhaegar called out, raising an eyebrow in concern.


    But neither man nor dragon heeded his warning, disappearing into the dense smoke with practiced skill.


    Rhaegar''s eyelids twitched as he watched them go. He couldn��t help but admire his uncle��s courage. Caraxes truly lived up to his name reputation as the "God of the Sea," navigating the treacherous waters of the Smoking Sea with explosive power and unerring precision. Despite the sea��s effects, the dragon never got lost or went mad, leading the fleet safely for days.


    "Roar!" The Cannibal bellowed, pping its ck wings in pursuit.


    Rhaegar gripped the dragon saddle tightly as his body shook from the force of the Cannibal''s movement. The dragon��s temperament had grown increasingly vtile with each passing day.


    He pursed his lips and nced down at the fleet below.


    "Roar! Roar!"


    On the deck of the Sea Snake, Iragaxys roared restlessly, its pupils red with agitation. The young dragon was chained by the neck and feet, struggling against its bonds.


    Rhaegar sighed softly. There was little he could do. Young dragons were even more vulnerable to the Smoking Sea''s corrupting influence. Without the dragon tamer��s whip, Iragaxys had nearly broken free.


    ...


    Sunset. King''s Landing, Red Keep.


    ��Hena, we should go see your father,�� Alicent said as she donned a cloak and pushed open the door to the council hall.


    ��Oh, yes,�� Hena replied softly, still absorbed in her paperwork. With the King away, the responsibilities had piled up relentlessly.


    ��You need to take care of yourself,�� Alicent said, draping a cloak over her daughter��s shoulders. It waste July, and the temperature difference between day and night in King��s Landing was stark.


    Hena continued working, not lifting her gaze from the papers in front of her. Alicent sighed, shaking her head, and her eyes wandered to a tapestry hanging on the wall.


    It was a cashmere tapestry from Lys, casually draped over a bamboo pole. Alicent walked over, her brow furrowing slightly. The tapestry depicted two scenes: one showed a blue dragon and a red dragon locked in fiercebat, their ferocity captured in vivid detail; the other depicted a mist-shrouded snow-capped mountain, its peaks disappearing into the distance.


    Alicent was so engrossed in the intricate threads that she reached out to touch the blue and red embroidery. Just as her fingers were about to graze the fabric, Hena suddenly spoke up, ��The troops from Gulltown are on their way!��


    ��Huh?�� Alicent was so distracted that she hadn��t heard her daughter clearly.


    Hena��s expression grew serious as she held up a document. ��The Braavos and Pentos fleets are moving towards the lower Narrow Sea, and Lady Jeyne has deployed troops from Gulltown to Myr.��


    Beyond Pentos and The Gullet lie the Disputed Lands, where the Triarchy once stood. Myr, being the closest Free City to Pentos, is of strategic importance.


    Alicent was startled by the news. ��Isn''t Baelon in Myr as well?�� she asked, trying to piece things together.


    Even if she wasn��t fully aware of all the political intricacies, she knew where Rhaenyra��s eldest son was. After a moment��s thought, Alicent guessed, ��Baelon is tied to his sisters, and Rhaegar wants Lady Jeyne to keep an eye on him.��


    Hena blinked, considering her mother��s reasoning. She hadn��t thought of the situation in that way before.


    Alicent ced a hand on her forehead, exasperated. ��With Rhaenyra''s temper, she��ll turn the Vale upside down.��


    To be fair, Jeyne Arryn was a role model for the women of Westeros. She had inherited the Eyrie as a child, ruled the Vale in her prime, and became queen through marriage. With two pure-blood Targaryen children under her protection, no one dared to cross her. Rhaenyra��s cunning and maniption couldn��tpare to Jeyne��s, and Rhaegar��s decision to entrust his eldest son��s education to her was out of necessity. After all, Alicent herself had once considered sending her younger son, Daeron, to Oldtown to be raised by herte uncle, Lord Hightower.


    Hena frowned slightly as she finished reading the letter. After a moment, she set the paper aside. ��Let��s go,�� she said.


    Alicent stood, her legs numb from sitting too long, and sighed. ��Your father has been sleeping more and moretely. He��s not awake for long.��


    Hena nodded slightly as she rose, tightening her cloak around her. She nced down and noticed that the cloak was a bright green, adorned with a few delicate, embroidered flowers.


    Hena shook her head softly and ced a hand on her growing belly.


    ...


    <strong>The Smoking Sea.</strong>


    Crackling...


    The sky and sea were in turmoil, thick ck clouds splitting open with bursts of red lightning.


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal let out a thunderous cry, diving from the sky with its tail sweeping across the boiling sea below.


    Rhaegar��s face darkened as he shouted, ��Tighten the sails! A storm ising!��


    The fleet was tossed about by the surging waves, like rootless duckweed swaying in the wind. Sea Snake��s expression grew grave as he swiftly ordered the sailors to take countermeasures. The sudden onset of the storm caught everyone off guard.


    Boom!


    In the distance, a sh of light shot up into the sky, sending waves crashing in every direction.


    "Roar..!"


    Rhaegar heard the distinct hiss of steam as water struck something molten. Caraxes, sensing the danger, quickly turned and flew in the opposite direction. The memory of thest time��when an underwater volcano imed most of the fleet��was still fresh in their minds. The overwhelming volcanic ash had left an indelible scar.


    ��Lord Corlys, hurry!��


    Rhaegar shouted, holding a ss candle in one hand and the sword Truefyre in the other.


    Whoo-hoo-hoo!


    The Sea Snake knew the urgency of the situation. He took the horn from the messenger and blew it with all his strength. House Vryon��s fleet, the mightiest in the Seven Kingdoms, responded instantly. The sails were raised, helmsmen turned the ships sharply, and dragon-powered winds surged to turn the fleet around.


    Crack!


    Lightning streaked across the sky as rain began to fall. Rhaegar soared above on the Cannibal, a raindrop striking his forehead.


    Pop!


    A sharp sting followed by a burning sensation made Rhaegar frown. He wiped the water off his forehead, only to feel a searing pain on his fingertips, as if bitten by a venomous insect. Realization struck him like a blow. ��Acid rain!�� he eximed.


    The drizzle quickly intensified into a downpour, the sound growing louder and more menacing.


    Roar...


    Cannibal roared, its massive body shielding the fleet below as it shook off the corrosive rain.


    Rumbling...


    The undersea volcano in the distance continued its relentless eruption, shaking the heavens and the earth.


    Ssh!


    A towering wave crashed into one of the warships, sending sailors tumbling overboard, their desperate screams echoing across the sea.


    ��Steer! Quickly!�� Sea Snake��s voice, usually calm, was now sharp with urgency. The Smoking Sea was indeed a cursed ce, filled with catastrophic natural disasters intent on swallowing anyone who dared to enter.


    Hlla...


    Rhaegar��s ck robe was soaked as searing rain pelted him, the acid burning through his clothing.


    Hum...


    The "Bronze" scales and Cannibal shielded Rhaegar from the worst of the impact, but the force was still tremendous. His head rang with the force, his vision spinning as he slumped onto the dragon��s saddle.


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal roared in fury, spitting dark green dragonfire into the sky. The mes collided with the acid rain, producing thick white smoke. The dragon��s green eyes darted back and forth, seeking a way out of the chaos. Finally, its nostrils red as it caught a scent, selecting a direction with certainty.


    ��Roar!��


    Without hesitation, the Cannibal surged forward, leaping over Caraxes and gliding just above the roiling sea.


    Boom!


    Red lightning split the sky, casting the world in a blood-red glow as dawn broke. Rhaegar, barely conscious,y slumped on the dragon saddle, his eyes open just a slit, witnessing the apocalyptic scene unfolding around him. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and as he clutched Truefyre tightly, he sumbed to an uncontroble sleep.


    ...


    Time slipped by slowly.


    The darkness was absolute, leaving him disoriented and unable to discern north from south. Rhaegar had no sense of how long he��d been lost in the ckness.


    ��Croak.��


    A faint toad''s croak echoed, and a cool sensation touched his skin. Confused, Rhaegar slowly opened his eyes. Above him, the sky was a deep, serene blue, with a few soft white clouds driftingzily in the wind.


    ��Ssshh!��


    His head throbbed with pain, and he hissed in difort. Using his hands for support, he pushed himself up, feeling the dampness of the wet soil beneath his palms.


    ��Ssshh...��


    To his surprise, a toad was perched on his forehead, staring at him with lifeless, bulging eyes.


    ��Where am I?�� Rhaegar muttered, looking around. He was surrounded by an endless sea of grass, the air filled with the fresh fragrance of earth. He scooped up a handful of the dark soil, its cool, sticky texture confirming the reality of his surroundings.


    Rhaegar��s eyes widened as he held the toad up to his face. ��Where have you taken me this time?�� he demanded, recalling his desperate escape from the Smoking Sea.


    ��Croak.��


    The toad��s tongue flicked out, its grayish belly swelling as if it might burst.


    ��Roar...��


    A dragon��s snoring suddenly rumbled from behind, apanied by the familiar scent of ash. Rhaegar turned sharply, his eyes widening in surprise. A dragon as ck as charcoaly on its back, its massive head ttening the grass, while hot air streamed from its enormous nostrils.


    Rhaegar rubbed his eyes in disbelief. ��Cannibal?��


    Since when could dragons enter dreams with their riders?


    ��Gurgle.��


    The toad squirmed in his hand before dissolving into wisps of gray smoke, vanishing into the air. Rhaegar furrowed his brow but quickly began to piece together what had happened. The Cannibal��s immense bodyy sprawled on a slope, its scales steaming as water vapor evaporated.


    Behind the dragon, an endless expanse ofnd stretched out. Rhaegar stood and saw a towering peak in the distance, its summit covered in heavy snow. The snow-capped mountains extended as far as the eye could see, shrouded in a thick, mysterious fog. He stood on tiptoe, straining to see through the haze, but the peaks remained obscured.


    ��This isn��t just a dream,�� Rhaegar murmured, a smile spreading across his face as he gazed at the snowy mountains. ��By some twist of fate, I��vended on that lost continent.��


    If he wasn��t mistaken, thisndscape was reminiscent of the Fourteen mes from Daenys�� prophetic dream.


    ��Roar...��


    A high-pitched cry of excitement rang out as Iragaxys pped its wings, eager to soar higher. Rhaegar turned in the opposite direction and saw the sea, veiled in clouds and mist, with the faint sound of waves reaching his ears.


    ��The Lands of the Long Summer,�� Rhaegar whispered, a sense of awe and exhration washing over him.


    He took a deep breath, feeling his blood course through his veins as the pain in the back of his head began to recede. The air was rich with fire magic, more potent than he had ever experienced, and it eagerly flowed into every pore of his body.


    ��Roar...��


    The Cannibal twitched its tail, drawing in an extraordinary amount of fire magic, which spread a soothing, exhrating sensation throughout its massive form. Rhaegar inhaled instinctively, feeling the magic enter his body as naturally as a bird returning to its nest.


    ��Your Grace.��


    A voice called out from behind. Rhaegar turned to see Sea Snake, a bandage wrapped around his forehead, his old face alight with a relieved smile.


    Seeing hispanion, Rhaegar��s heart lifted. ��Your Grace, this is the Lands of the Long Summer,�� Sea Snake said, his eyes shining with excitement as he cradled two tattered pieces of Dragonstone in his arms.

 Chapter 592: Dragonbone Pit

    Chapter 592: Dragonbone Pit


    "What''s the situation? How many people were lost?" Rhaegar asked anxiously.


    The eruption of the undersea volcano, coupled with the sudden storm, had been a disaster. However, Sea Snake was relieved to report, "We lost two warships, and only 500 people were injured."


    "No more?" Rhaegar asked suspiciously. "This is the Lands of the Long Summer. How did we get here?" The storm had been massive, yet the damage was less than expected. Moreover, thend they now stood on was most likely the Lands of the Long Summer. It all seemed too easy.


    "Prince, the remaining ships were damaged to varying degrees, and the sailors are doing their best to repair them," Sea Snake answered, then nced at the huge ck beast sprawled on the hillside. He admired it as he continued, "The storm was so fierce, but thanks to your dragon for finding its way, spewing dragonfire to guide the fleet."


    The ck wings had torn through the heavy clouds, and the dark green dragonfire had cut through the thick fog. The fleet had followed the dragon''s path and, by sheer luck, found this lost continent.


    Upon hearing this, Rhaegar looked back at the sleeping Cannibal and couldn''t help but feel relieved. ''This troublesome dragon alwayses through at critical moments,'' he thought.


    "Roar..." The Cannibal''s pupils remained tightly shut as he greedily absorbed the fire magic in the air, exhaling hot air from his nostrils with each breath.


    Seeing this, Rhaegar decided not to disturb the creature and signaled the Sea Snake to walk with him. The grasnds stretched out as far as the eye could see, and the breeze rippled through the tall grass.


    The Sea Snake walked a short distance away, knelt reverently, and held a handful of soil to his nose. ''Thend of my ancestors,'' he thought. After more than two hundred years, the ancient bloodline had finally set foot on it again.


    "I had always imagined that I would be able to make a tenth voyage," Rhaegar mused, but the Sea Snake''s voice interrupted his thoughts.


    Rhaegar looked down to see the Sea Snake''s dark face slightly raised, his eyes glistening with tears. "Being able to set foot on thisnd is greater than the first nine voyages of my life," Sea Snake said deeply, even though he had traveled to Asshai in the east of the world and braved the ciers in the far north. There was no greater significance than finding the Lands of the Long Summer.


    Rhaegar helped the wounded Sea Snake to his feet and spoke with resolve, "We are not just here to find it. We will bring back the treasures left behind by our ancestors. Only then can we justify the twists and turns of our journey."


    "You are right," the Sea Snake agreed, regaining his solemn expression as he picked up a piece of broken Dragonstone rubble. "Daemon rode the Blood Wyrm to explore the Snow Peaks and unearthed an ancient ruin."


    The old rubble in his hands was a relic he had picked up from the ruins outside. Rhaegar took the Dragonstone rubble in his hands. It was cold and rough, a testament to its age and the external forces that had damaged it.


    "Take me there. We can''t miss any ruins," Rhaegar said firmly. ''Especially those near the Snow Peaks and the Fourteen mes. Only the Dragonlord''s house would be worthy of them.''


    "Should we call Daemon?" Sea Snake asked cautiously. "Your dragon is sleeping. It would be safer to call him and Caraxes."


    Rhaegar nced back at the Cannibal, who remained oblivious. After a moment of thought, he said, "No need. There is no danger in the ruins on the ground. It''s easier to uncover more secrets by splitting up."


    The Fourteen mes were more dangerous, and Daemon was willing to be the first to go. After exploring this continent, they could regroup.


    Sea Snake considered this and agreed. "The fleet has suffered varying degrees of damage. We will stay here for a while, so there is no rush."


    With that, he summoned a team of sailors to gather wood and headed for the snowy peaks.


    ...


    Not long after the team had left, a rustling noise stirred in the grass. The air on the empty slopes was thick with the smell of ash.


    ��Hurry up, don��t bezy,�� one of the shirtless sailors barked as they approached, carrying a thick pine log on their shoulders. The grasnd stretched vast before them, but trees were sparse, forcing them to venture to the foot of the snow-capped mountain in search of usable wood.


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, the Cannibal opened its vertical pupils, sensing something. It stretched its neck, peering toward the towering Fire Peak, though the summit remained hidden in the clouds.


    Boom!


    The massive dragon slowly rose to its feet, its enormous wings crushing the green grass beneath them. With a deafening roar, the Cannibal spread its wings wide andunched into the sky.


    As the sailors passed by the slope, the powerful gusts from the dragon''s wings knocked them to the ground, sending the pine log crashing beside them.


    ��A dragon!�� one sailor cried out in rm as he watched the ck beast vanish into the distance. The other sailors, one by one, were paralyzed with fear, their legs shaking uncontrobly.


    ...


    Meanwhile, Rhaegar climbed the steep ridge, drawing closer to the snowy peak. Thankfully, the grasnd wasn''t far from the snowy peak, especially the spot where the Cannibal hadnded. It would take about a day and a night to make the round trip.


    "Your Grace, the sun here is no different from that of Westeros," the Sea Snake remarked, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the ring sun as he surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings.


    Rhaegar nced upward. The sun hung high in the sky, its rays piercing through the clouds. He reached out, feeling the warmth on his skin after spending so much time under its light.


    "The Lands of the Long Summer earned their name because it''s perpetually summer here," Rhaegar exined. "Thend is fertile, ideal for growing crops."


    The Sea Snake wiped the sweat from his brow and noted, "The temperature here is indeed higher than in other ces. In terms of climate, it''s only slightly surpassed by the Summer Sea. Perhaps only the constant heat of the Summer Isles canpare."


    ''No wonder Lys was known as a "resort" and had attracted the conquest and rule of the Dragonlords'', Rhaegar thought. He squinted slightly, his gaze drifting from the blinding sun to the sea where the fleet was anchored. The higher they climbed, the farther they could see.


    The beach below was a stretch of golden sand, dotted with broken shells left by the waves. The fleet was moored nearby, shrouded in mist, making it difficult to see clearly. Beyond that, a gray expanse of rolling fog obscured the Smoking Sea, a reminder of the dangers that still lurked there.


    Rhaegar recalled the route on the map and said cautiously, "Based on thendmass that remained after ancient Valyria fractured, we''re likely on the edge of the Fourteen mes."


    After the Doom, ancient Valyria had splintered into a main continent and several fragments. The most fertile of these fragments was the one they now stood on: the Lands of the Long Summer. The terrain was t, with extensive ins and fertilend.


    The coastal region where the Dragonlords had once lived, known as the core of the Freehold Empire, had suffered the worst damage. It had been blown apart into three smallndmasses and a scattering of inds of unknown size. The two mainndmasses were separated by the Smoking Sea, which had formed after the continent split in two.


    Rhaegar''s thoughts turned to a bold spection. ''With the destruction of ancient Valyria and the near-copse of the Fourteen mes, the peak shrouded in mist might be the only one that survived,'' he thought, eyeing the thick fog that hid the snow-capped peak. If they explored it thoroughly, they might make an unexpected discovery.


    "Your Grace, I found a stone tablet!" one of the sailors called out, pulling a broken b from the ground.


    "Let''s take a look," Rhaegar said, his spirits lifting as he quickened his pace.


    The closer they got to the snowy peak, the less green grass they encountered. The barren slopes were scarred with scorch marks, and gray-ck stctites, remnants of solidified magma, jutted from the ground. Rhaegar stepped on one, and it crumbled beneath his boot like scorched earth burned by dragonfire.


    "Your Grace," one of the sailors said nervously, pointing to the irregrly shaped stone b lying on the ground.


    Rhaegar waved his hand dismissively and leaned in to examine it. The b was covered in ck grime, cracked and shattered. It felt warm and rough to the touch.


    "Clean it up," the Sea Snake ordered, frowning.


    The sailors hurried toply, using their curved knives to scrape away the stubbornyer of ash that clung to the stone b. With a few strokes, lines of writing began to emerge.


    Rhaegar recognized the script immediately as High Valyrian. He lightly traced the letters with his fingertips, his lips moving as he read aloud, "<em>Henntoti anogar, Va syndroti v?edroma (Blood of two, Joined as one)...</em>"


    "This is the ancient oath of the Dragonlords," the Sea Snake said solemnly.


    Rhaegar nodded, already familiar with the phrase. But as they continued, the writing below was badly damaged, making the text barely legible. He frowned and wiped more ash from the bottom of the stone, revealing two carved images.


    One depicted a volcano nked by a pair of statues, while the other showed a dragon with its head and tail facing each other, forming a closed loop. The dragon was stout, with a particrly slender tail. Beside it was another dragon, wings spread wide, its tail as thin as an eagle''s, and its head tilted as if about to soar into the sky.


    The two dragon totems were positioned opposite each other, with the volcano in between.


    The Sea Snake pointed to the winged dragon and said with certainty, "This is the sigil of House Aurion. I once saw a breastte left behind by a Dragonlord of Aurion in the masked temple of Qohor. It bore the same totem."


    Rhaegar nced at him, then pointed to the other symbol. "This is the mark of House Berys. It likely represents a marriage alliance between the two houses."


    The Sea Snake examined the carvings carefully. "If that''s the case, these ruins were probably built by one of the Dragonlords," he concluded. The Dragonlords of ancient Valyria were known for their tyranny and domination. very, colonization, and fortress-building weremon practices among them.


    Rhaegar stood up and dusted off his hands. "There''s no time to waste. Let''s reach the ruins before dark."


    With that, he gave the order, and the group quickened their pace.


    ...


    The sun rose and set, marking the passage of time until dusk settled over thendscape.


    At the foot of the snowy peak, Rhaegar, d in a ck robe, crushed the frost beneath his boot with a crisp crack. He looked up to see the mountain soaring into the clouds like a colossal, gleaming sword.


    "It''s so cold!" he eximed, his breath forming a swift plume of white mist in the frigid air.


    Suddenly, a shout broke the silence behind him. "Your Grace,e quickly!" Sea Snake''s voice echoed with a mix of excitement and horror.


    Without hesitation, Rhaegar turned and hurried down the lightly snow-dusted slope, skillfully navigating around the ridges of the peak. The sparse snow couldn''t conceal the dark ground beneath, which was littered with crumbling walls and debris.


    Sea Snake stood nearby, pulling aside a broken section of stone wall, his expression tense and alert. As Rhaegar approached, the chill in the air seemed to lessen, and his breaths no longer crystallized before him.


    Crunch!


    Rhaegar''s footnded on something brittle. He nced down, his eyes narrowing as he realized he had stepped on a pile of rubble concealing a dark skeleton. The bones were slender, resembling those of arge cat or dog, but their inherent ckness was unmistakable.


    Kneeling, Rhaegar brushed his fingers over the familiar texture of dragonbone. Gently pushing aside more rubble, he uncovered a small dragon skull adorned with horns, norger than a ser ball. A mix of emotions washed over him as he held the relic in his hands.


    "Your Grace, there''s more over here," Sea Snake called out gravely, stepping aside to reveal a broader view.


    They stood within the ruins of what had once been a magnificent hall, now reduced to a copsed ceiling and fragmented walls. Rhaegar''s gaze followed Sea Snake''s gesture, and his grip tightened involuntarily around the small skull he held.


    At the center of the ruinsy a massive dragon skeleton, stretching seventy to eighty meters long, its bones as ck as ink. Scanning the area, Rhaegar spotted several other dragon skeletons of varying sizes scattered among the debris, many broken and weathered by years of wind and snow.


    One particrly striking skeleton rested against the edge of a broken wall. It spanned over forty meters, its spine severed at the cervical vertebrae. The dragon''s skull leaned against the crumbling stone, empty eye sockets gazing skyward, evoking a profound sense of mncholy.


    "This is a graveyard of dragons," Rhaegar murmured, his voice heavy with awe and sorrow.

 Chapter 593: Firewyrms and Fire Ore

    Chapter 593: Firewyrms and Fire Ore


    <font style="vertical-align: inherit;"><font style="vertical-align: inherit;">Rhaegar was speechless, overwhelmed by what he saw. It was the first time he had encountered so many dragon skeletons, and it felt as though he had stepped into a graveyard filled with death and silent wailing.</font></font>


    <font style="vertical-align: inherit;"><font style="vertical-align: inherit;">"Your Grace, there are small inscriptions here," Sea Snake said quietly.</font></font>


    <font style="vertical-align: inherit;"><font style="vertical-align: inherit;">Rhaegar, still dazed, slowly approaching the ruins. The inscriptions were carved into a stone wall, dark and seemingly made of Dragonstone. Although the wall had been broken into several pieces, it was thick enough to have endured the passage of time.</font></font>


    <font style="vertical-align: inherit;"><font style="vertical-align: inherit;">Rhaegar rubbed his brow, focusing on the small text. It was written in High Valyrian, mixed with some local dialects from the Lands of the Long Summer. As he tranted, the words began to form a narrative: "Dragonlord... Daeryon... marriage..."</font></font>


    <font style="vertical-align: inherit;"><font style="vertical-align: inherit;">Rhaegar''s heart skipped a beat when he reached the name "Daeryon." The space bracelet given to him by his good uncle had once belonged to a descendant of House Daeryon. Among the forty Dragonlord families, House Daeryon''s power had been formidable.</font></font>


    <font style="vertical-align: inherit;"><font style="vertical-align: inherit;">His eyes shed with recognition as he deciphered the remaining text, focusing on a series of vague incantations at the beginning. He realized they were the opening words for learning a binding spell.</font></font>


    <font style="vertical-align: inherit;"><font style="vertical-align: inherit;">Crack!</font></font>


    <font style="vertical-align: inherit;"><font style="vertical-align: inherit;">Rhaegar picked up a piece of gravel and scratched at the stone, recognizing the incantation as one that top Dragonlord families might carve in important ces like the Dragonpit to teach their children about dragons.</font></font>


    <font style="vertical-align: inherit;"><font style="vertical-align: inherit;">Sea Snake, more interested in the final paragraph, read aloud, "Family marriage, mixing of blood."</font></font>


    <font style="vertical-align: inherit;"><font style="vertical-align: inherit;">On the wall was a simple mural of a volcano, with a totem of two entwined dragons on the left. The right side of the mural was conspicuously empty.</font></font>


    <font style="vertical-align: inherit;"><font style="vertical-align: inherit;">"This must be the Daeryon family''s building," Rhaegar spected, "and the totem is their family symbol." As for the nk space on the right, it likely belongs to a lesser-known Dragonlord family, one without a stable line of dragons or a dedicated totem. Such families, including House Targaryen, were considered impoverishedpared to the native nobles of the Lands of the Long Summer or the powerful seafaring families with their fleets.</font></font>


    <font style="vertical-align: inherit;"><font style="vertical-align: inherit;">Sea Snake, well-versed in his ancestors'' traditions, cried. "Perhaps the family they were marrying into was yours or mine. The surnames of our three families were deeply intertwined in ancient Valyria. It''s possible that two of these families were branches of the same bloodline. After all, the people of Valyria were originally a nomadic group. It wasn''t until they mastered the dragons of the Fourteen mes that they rose to power."</font></font>


    But Rhaegar was in no mood for humor. After the Doom, Valyria had fallen like a shooting star, with ny percent of its culture and heritage buried beneath the magma. The Targaryens, thest of the dragon blood, remained but a shadow of their former glory.


    "I''ll take a look around, Lord Corlys," Rhaegar said somberly. He tied the small dragon skull to his belt and walked over to the dragon skeletons scattered among the ruins.


    As a pure-blooded Valyrian, Rhaegar had always felt a special connection to dragons. He never regarded them as ves, tools, or even cold-blooded animals. To him, dragons were sacred, thest vestiges of ancient Valyria''s magic.


    "Lord Corlys, help me cut off these dragon skulls," Rhaegar requested in a low voice, drawing his Truefyre and striking the spine of the dragon lying at the base of the wall. He intended to give the skulls a proper burial.


    "Yes, Your Grace," Corlys replied, understanding the depth of Rhaegar''s feelings. Just as the Vryons loved their ships and the sea, Rhaegar��s bond with dragons was profound. Corlys waved his hand, ordering the sailors to assist.


    ng!


    Rhaegar swung his sword, and the de lodged in a gap between the dragon��s vertebrae, spitting out sparks. Years spent in the Dragonpit had taught him persistence, and he didn��t pause, using the hilt of his sword to pry at the stubborn bone.


    After a dragon fell, cleaning away the scales, flesh, and sinew was aborious task. It was easier to cut through the spine and preserve the dragonbone intact.


    ng! ng!


    The sailors joined in, hacking at the dragonbone with their machetes. Rhaegar paid them no mind, his focus entirely on the skeleton before him. A rough count revealed at least five dragon skeletons scattered throughout the ruins. Thergesty in the center, while the smallest now hung from his belt as a grisly keepsake. The rest were strewn across the site, their bones shattered and crushed by time and decay.


    Bang!


    Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed as he intensified his efforts, each strike growing more forceful. Gradually, he became absorbed in the task, losing himself in the rhythm of the blows.


    Bang!


    A shard of bone flew off, sending sparks in every direction. Rhaegar instinctively raised his elbow to shield himself, but suddenly his vision blurred.


    ��Roar!��


    In a trance, a pained dragon��s roar echoed in his ears. His body stiffened, a sense of weightlessness flooding over him.


    [This exploration mission is now open. The target is the remains of the dragons] announced the system��s prompt, marking the beginning of an explorer mission.


    Rhaegar frowned as the roar faded from his ears, and control of his body slowly returned.


    ��Hoo!��


    He exhaled deeply, ncing around to ensure no one had noticed anything unusual. Satisfied, he opened the explorer panel.


    [Dragon Remains] Exploration progress: 0.2%


    Rhaegar stood before the dragon skeleton, his sword, Truefyre, still lodged in the gap between the vertebrae. He nced down at the ground, spotting a small, unremarkable piece of ck bone residue.


    ��Do you wish to rest in peace as well?�� Rhaegar murmured, his voice a mix of relief and helplessness. The dragons buried here were not just remnants of the past; they embodied the sorrow and defiance of creatures that had fallen from greatness.


    The eruption of the Fourteen mes, the very heart of Valyria that Rhaegar had once revered as his sanctuary, hade without warning��bringing with it true helplessness and despair.


    Bang!


    Rhaegar had no more words. He simply resumed the repetitive motion of swinging his sword, his thoughts heavy with the weight of history and loss.


    ...


    Night fell, and the sky was dotted with stars. It was hard to believe that a patch ofnd in the Smoking Sea could offer such a clear view of the sky.


    "Roar..."


    The ground trembled softly beneath their feet, the sound of shifting earth echoing around them. In the distance, Firepeak loomed, its jagged silhouette piercing the night sky. At first nce, it was several timesrger than Dragonmont on Dragonstone, yet it possessed an even more awe-inspiring presence.


    "Roar!"


    A ck dragon silhouette soared overhead, disappearing into a cave on the mountainside. Momentster, it emerged, agitated, and flew off in search of another cave, where volcanic ash had settled.


    Over two hundred years ago, these caves had all been dragon nests. But after the Doom, the flowingva sealed them off, restoring Fourteen mes to its original, imprable form.


    ...


    Fourteen mes, underground mine.


    Click!


    A cluster of torches red to life, casting flickering light on the dustden tunnel, where cobwebs hung thick in the air.


    "Fourteen mes, living up to its name," Daemon muttered, covering his nose and mouth, his eyes sharp as an eagle''s. He had initially scouted the caves on the mountainside, but Caraxes''s enormous body couldn''t fit inside, so he settled for exploring the underground mine instead.


    During the Freehold Empire, the Fourteen mes had been a hellish realm for ves, who were forced to dig day and night, their lives treated as expendable. Historical records spoke of several uprisings, and it was here that the faiths of Braavos and the Faceless Men had their origins.


    As Daemon ventured deeper into the mine, he encountered a grim sight��scattered bones, brittle and dried with age. Most were human, though a few belonged to sheep and pigs. The bones crumbled at the slightest touch, a testament to the years they hadin undisturbed.


    Daemon remained vignt, quietly drawing Dark Sister from his belt. He had something to prove��to show his nephew that he was the right man to hold the title of a ��Targaryen Prince.�� He was determined to rid himself of his brother��s disapproving gaze.


    The deeper he went, the wider and higher the tunnel became, which struck him as unusual. He had no idea how long he had been walking when suddenly, a bright light ahead blinded him. Daemon��s eyes narrowed as he tightened his grip on Dark Sister.


    Turning a corner, his view expanded, revealing a vast chamber. The stone walls were embedded with various ores, gleaming brightly in the dim torchlight. But what truly caught his attention made his expression change.


    A dragon!


    Or rather, the skeleton of one. The enormous remains sprawled across the cavern, so vast that he couldn''t take in its entire form at a nce. It resembled a dark fortress, a testament to its once-mighty presence.


    Daemon cautiously approached, examining the skeleton with care. The bones were slender, suggesting the dragon might have resembled Sunfyre or Silverwing in life. At a rough estimate, it measured over 150 meters long, evenrger than Vhagar. In the history of House Targaryen, only Balerion the ck Dread and the Cannibal couldpare in size.


    "An unfortunate old dragon," Daemon murmured to himself, lowering his guard as he drew nearer. The skeleton, curled up in an ufortable position, seemed to bear the scars of many battles. One of its wings waspletely shattered, as if it had been torn off by another dragon. Its head, chest, and tail bore deep scratches, evidence of countless fierce encounters.


    Daemon felt a wave of ancient, indifferent power emanating from the dragon��s remains, pressing down on him like an invisible weight. Scattered on the dusty ground beneath the skeleton were a few bronze scales, each the size of a palm, reflecting a dull light.


    He bent down, picked up one of the scales, and carefully slipped it into his pocket.


    ��Roar...��


    Suddenly, a piercing dragon roar echoed through the cave, filled with menace and fury. Startled, Daemon whipped his head around. "Caraxes!?"


    Without hesitation, he abandoned the cavern filled with ore and dragon bones, retreating swiftly through the tunnel in search of his dragon.


    ...


    Underground mine.


    The dark red ore all around radiated an oppressive heat, filling the air with a sense of despair.


    ��Roar����


    Caraxes clung to the stone wall, his body coiled like a serpent, radiating pure murderous intent.


    Gurgle...


    The uneven ground began to bulge as a thin red liquid oozed from the cracks. Suddenly, with a sharp <em>pop</em>, the ground split open, and a massive, red creature resembling a giant python emerged.


    ��Sssss����


    The monstrous beast opened itsmprey-like mouth and lunged at Caraxes, spitting red saliva everywhere.


    Boom!


    Caraxes''s pupils red with fury as he unleashed a torrent of dragonfire.


    ��Ssshhhh����


    The creature pushed through the mes, its scarlet body shimmering with a strange, moist luster as it writhed in agony. The beast was eyeless, earless, and noseless, its body covered in fine scales. It looked like a snake, but it wasn''t��a grotesque, twisted, rotting thing, defying easy description.


    "Roar!"


    Caraxes roared and spread its wings, lunging at the creature. With a thunderous crash, the two beasts collided and crashed to the ground. Though massive, the monster was only the size of a young dragon, no more than ten meters long.


    Puff! Puff!


    Caraxes''s eyes burned with ferocity as its powerful jaws snapped down on the creature''s flexible body. Its ws tore into the beast with brutal efficiency, as if confronting a natural enemy. The scene was terrifyingly savage.


    Plop!


    The monster was ripped to shreds, copsing into a mass of soft, rotten flesh.


    ��Roar����


    Without hesitation, Caraxes''s ws crushed the putrid remains, reducing them to a pulp as red fluid seeped out.


    Crack!


    Caraxes snorted, its nostrils ring with hot air as it leaned forward and bit into a piece of the red ore embedded in the stone wall. With a few crunches, it crushed it and swallowed it down.


    Its pupils narrowed slightly, a hint of satisfaction in its gaze. Finally, Caraxes settled against the stone wall, resting after the brutal encounter.

 Chapter 594: Dragon Soul’s Guidance

    Chapter 594: Dragon Soul��s Guidance


    The next day, the sun rose, casting the first rays of light onto the snow-covered mountains, making the snow at their base sparkle. Rhaegary among the ruins, sheltered from the wind and rain by arge dragon skull. Nearby, several other dragon skulls had already been severed and tied with ropes, ready for transport.


    The sailors, rising early, gathered firewood to start a fire.


    Suddenly, the dragon skull glowed briefly, then quietly melded into a solid mass. A voice rang out, waking Rhaegar from his slumber.


    [This exploration isplete. Please pick up the lost treasure.]


    Rhaegar opened his eyes as the system panel appeared before him:


    [Dragon''s Remains]


    Exploration progress: 100%


    "One night has passed. How fast!" Rhaegar rubbed his cheeks and looked around. A red halo, the size of a watermelon, floated above the closed jaw of the giant dragon skull. His lips curled into a smile as he reached out to touch it.


    Pop!The bubble-like halo burst, transforming into a small cluster of bright light that shot into his palm.


    [Relic sessfully picked up, testing in progress...]


    [Testing sessful. Determined to be a legendary relic: Dragon Soul''s Wish.]


    The prompts appeared one after another, and a dragon tooth called "Dragon Soul''s Wish" materialized in his mind.


    "Legendary level? What a pleasant surprise," Rhaegar muttered, feeling a surge of excitement. With a thought, the dragon tooth appeared in his hand. It was entirely ck, with a sheen that glimmered in the sunlight.


    "A dragon tooth... let''s see the trigger conditions." Rhaegar, filled with anticipation, examined the small print on the system panel.


    [Wandering souls, dragon visions, fulfilling wishes, and repaying them.]


    "''Wishes and repaying them?''" Rhaegar pondered for a moment. No one had ever collected the dragon bones in these ruins. Yesterday, he had severed the dragon��s skull, intending to bury it underground. This action must have triggered the explorer''s quest.


    "So, the activation condition for the relic is the funeral of the dragon''s bones." Rhaegar felt a sense of responsibility as he held the small dragon skull tied to his waist. It was a fair trade; after all, he was willing to help these dragons who had died in vain.


    As he stepped out of the dragon skull, Sea Snake approached, chewing on a piece of roasted meat. "Your Grace, the ruins have yielded very little. Shall we move on?"


    "Of course." Rhaegar gazed determinedly at the mist-covered Fourteen mes. "The grasnds are too vast. Let''s go to the Fourteen mes first." And return the dragon skeletons to their formerir.


    Unaware of Rhaegar��s true intentions, Sea Snake believed the prince simply wanted to explore the Fourteen mess. He nodded seriously, "I will send the sailors to search everywhere and find more ruins."


    ...


    At noon, a convoy of carriages made its way across the grasnds at the foot of the snow-capped mountains. The wheels asionally sank into the soft soil, causing the carts to groan under the strain.


    Creak, creak...


    The sailors pushed with all their might, urging the makeshift carts forward. Severalrge and small dragon skulls were carefully ced on one of the carts.


    "I''ll help," Rhaegar said, rolling up his sleeves. He joined in, pushing the cart with all his strength.


    "Roar!"...


    A ck dragon''s shadow suddenly swept across the sky, its red wing membranes ring like giant fans. Rhaegar looked up at the sound. Iragaxys wasn��t flying high, and it let out a piercing cry as it passed overhead, disappearing into the vast sea of grass.


    "Iragaxys, what happened?" Rhaegar muttered, frowning slightly. As the young dragon flew by, he noticed a bloodstain on its scaly belly. Iragaxys had grown significantly since it first entered the sub-adult stage, far more than when it had been raised in the Lands of the Long Summer.


    Plop!


    Distracted by the sight of Iragaxys, Rhaegar didn''t notice as the cart suddenly lurched out of a pothole. The Sea Snake, panting and wiping the sweat from his face, remarked, "Your Grace, we''re almost at the Fourteen mes."


    Rhaegar responded with a thoughtful "mm," his eyes narrowing as he realized Iragaxys had juste from the direction of a Fire Peak. In the distance, the grassy fields gave way to a barrennd shrouded in fog.


    In Daenys'' dream, Rhaegar had seen this ce once before��the foot of the Fourteen mes.


    ...


    Across the Narrow Sea, in Dorne''s Vaith River Valley...


    "Dragon!!"


    "Run..."


    "��"


    Panic swept through the ck-haired, brown-skinned Dornishmen as they fled their castles and viges in terror. The sky darkened under the shadow of a dragon, its brown-mud Dragonfire raining down mercilessly. Poorly equipped armies perished by the hundreds, their bodies reduced to charred, foul-smelling remains.


    In a single night, the rebuilt cities of Vaith and Godsgrace, along with the coastal city of Tor, were once again consumed by a sea of mes. The hot summer air was thick with the sounds of wailing and despair.


    ...


    King''s Landing.


    "Roar!"


    The mud dragon soared above the city, its wings pping with an unsettling excitement. It seemed intent on disturbing the revelers in Silk Street and Flea Bottom, swooping low to startle them before circling twice and finallynding in the courtyard of the grand Red Keep.


    Inside the council hall, tensions boiled over into a heated argument.


    Alicent''s eyes zed with anger. "What did you say? You burned thends of Dorne?"


    "That''s right," Aemond replied coolly, leaning back against the table. "Someone sent word to Braavos and Pentos, recruiting soldiers without permission. That��s a vition of thew."


    Alicent''s fury intensified. "You''re insane! The scars of the Dragon''s Wroth are still fresh, and the Dornish have barely recovered. You''re provoking them into rebellion!"


    Under Rhaegar''s strict policies, Dorne had been blockaded at the Prince''s Pass, Boneway, and the Greenblood River, leading to economic copse and a sharp decline in poption. Burning down three noble castles in one fell swoop would only fan the mes of unrest.


    Aemond''s voice was cold and unyielding. "If they dare to rise, I''ll burn them all to the ground." ''If they dared to conspire with the enemy today, they''d rebel tomorrow. Better to crush them now.''


    "Seven hells!" Alicent was near copse, her voice rising in desperation. ''Are you possessed?'' she thought. The fleets of Braavos and Pentos had not yet attacked, and the war was still in its early stages. Aemond''s reckless assault on Dorne was causing turmoil within their own ranks. What would the nobles of the kingdom and the loyal houses of Dorne think?


    "It''s toote to regret it now that the mes have already consumed them," Aemond said, taking a sip of his wine, his demeanor defiant. He was merely following his brother''s orders to secure the safety of Dorne, the Stepstones, and the Narrow Sea. The Dornish needed to be punished for their treachery.


    "What are you doing? This kingdom is not yours!" Alicent ced a hand on her forehead, her voice a mix of frustration and pleading. "You''re only going to spark greater bacsh by doing this."


    Aemond shrugged, indifferent to her concerns. Who would be the first to feel his wrath if he lost an eye in Dorne?


    Realizing her words were falling on deaf ears, Alicent turned to her daughter, who was diligently working through petitions. "Hena, write a conciliatory letter to Prince Qyle of Dorne in the king''s name." She hoped the young prince could quell the unrest in Dorne.


    "Relying on a child who hasn''t even outgrown his milk," Aemond scoffed, shaking his head. Since Dorne''s surrender, power had been in the hands of Mors Manwoody of Kingsgrave. The young Prince of Dorne, not yet ten years old, was little more than a puppet.


    "What else can we do?" Alicent''s voice wasced with exasperation. "Wait until the people of Dorne rebel, and Rhaegar returns to cut off your head in a fit of rage?"


    Aemond''s expression darkened, and he replied bluntly, "He''d sooner cut off yours."


    "Aemond!" Alicent gasped, shocked and furious, about tounch into another tirade.


    "Wait a moment," Hena interrupted softly, raising her hand timidly to stop the argument.


    Both Alicent and Aemond turned to her, expecting some wise counsel from the acting queen.


    "That..." Hena hesitated, pointing at the goblet in Aemond''s hand. "That��s my wine. You have to pay for it."


    ...


    At the same time, an emergency meeting was taking ce in Lys Topless Tower.


    Bang!


    Rhaenyra mmed her goblet down on the table, her voice seething with anger. "Aemond set fire to Dorne. I''ve received letters from the Dornish nobles, filled with nothing but reprimands!"


    The letters were crammed with every kind of obscenity imaginable. She felt the urge to tear them to pieces and swallow them whole.


    "We''re powerless to stop him. We can''t control his dragon," Mysaria said resignedly, her tone reflecting the weight of her swollen belly. If a dragon rider decided to do something reckless, who could stand in his way?


    "We have to offer an exnation, understand?" Rhaenyra''s eyes zed with intensity. "Dorne will rebel and ally with the Free Cities, rekindling old enmities."


    Rhaegar had once said that since Dorne had already submitted, it was time to win them over. If possible, marrying the realm''s nobles into Dornish families was a prudent move. But burning down the Vaith River Valley would only deepen the Dornish people''s hatred of the Dragon''s Wroth.


    "Forgive me, Your Grace," Mysaria murmured, her eyes heavy with fatigue. "Instead of arguing, we should send a letter to Sunspear, ordering Lord Qyle and Lord Mors to calm the situation."


    Rhaenyra''s expression softened, and she nodded emphatically. "Yes, that''s what we''ll do!"


    "Your Grace, may I speak?" Varys interjected, his hands tucked into his pockets, his face betraying a hint of hesitation.


    Rhaenyra looked at him curiously. "What is it, my Topless Tower Master?"


    "It''s a grave matter that requires your immediate attention," Varys sighed, pulling a piece of parchment from his sleeve. "Yesterday morning, Lord Mors was murdered in a brothel in nky Town by a group of children who call themselves the Orphans of the Greenblood River."


    "What?" Rhaenyra gasped, snatching the parchment from his hand.


    The letter detailed the shocking assassination. Dragonfire had barely scorched thend for a day and a night before Mors was brutally in. The news of the return of the Dragon''s Wroth had already spread throughout Sunspear.


    Mors had been killed by a group of orphans, children who had lost their families in the war. He had been stabbed dozens of times, his head smashed beyond recognition.


    ��Who is in charge of Sunspear now?�� Rhaenyra''s heart pounded with anxiety. Mors had been the royal family''s representative in Dorne, and his death could signal aplete loss of control over the region.


    Varys, touching the tattoos on his shaved head, ventured a guess, ��It seems that young Prince Qyle has takenmand. He��s organized his guards and ordered the army to blockade Sunspear.��


    ��Phew, that��s a relief.�� Rhaenyra exhaled, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. As long as Sunspear remained secure, the garrison in nky Town could maintain control over eastern Dorne. If the Prince��s Pass and the Boneway held in the north, the rebellion could be contained.


    ��Your Grace, the matter is far from resolved,�� Mysaria cautioned, her brow furrowed. ��We need to appoint someone to assist Prince Qyle, to ensure the young prince isn��t easily swayed.��


    Rhaenyra nodded in agreement, her tone cautious. ��Who would be suitable?��


    ��Someone loyal to the crown and from Dorne, of course,�� Mysaria hinted, her eyes flicking toward the Kingsguard standing vigil at the door.


    Rhaenyra considered this and recalled a newer member of the Kingsguard, who had recently assisted Commander Erryk in guarding the Red Keep. Ser Beris Dayne of Starfall, the modern-day Sword of the Morning.


    ��Let him go. Ser Beris has always been a loyal adviser to the royal family.�� Rhaenyra made her decision, taking a deep breath. The loyalty of a Kingsguard was unquestionable, and Beris came from one of Dorne��s noble houses. There was no one more suitable.


    Mysaria nodded approvingly at the queen��s choice.


    Rhaenyra then turned her attention to another pressing issue, her voice growing cold. ��The raven that brought the news to King''s Landing should carry another letter��one condemning Aemond''s reckless actions. He must be held ountable.��


    Burning Dorne without permission, especially at such a critical time, could easily spark a full-blown war.


    Mysaria hesitated. ��Your Grace, you know Aemond��s temperament. He won��t listen; he��ll only respond with mockery.��


    ��Do it!�� Rhaenyra''s voice rose sharply, her anger barely contained.


    ��Yes, Your Grace.�� Mysaria quickly rose and left the room.


    Varys followed, leaving Rhaenyra alone in the now-empty hall. The silence pressed in on her as she slowly closed her eyes, leaning back in her chair with a weary groan. ��What a tormenting disaster.��


    Without Rhaegar, everything felt like an uphill battle. Constraints and challenges were everywhere, forcing her to retreat when she longed to advance.


    ...


    The scene shifts to the Lands of the Long Summer, at the foot of the Fourteen mes.


    "Roar..."


    Thick fog swirled around Rhaegar and his men as they ventured into the destendscape. From somewhere in the distance, a piercing roar echoed through the mist.


    "It''s Daemon''s dragon," Sea Snake warned, his voice tinged with concern.


    Rhaegar waved a dismissive hand. "It''s fine. I don''t sense any danger."


    Behind him, the sailors struggled as they pushed a heavy cart uphill, the fog making the ascent even more arduous. The thick haze obscured their surroundings, leaving Rhaegar to peer into the mist, searching for anyndmarks.


    After some time, his persistence paid off; he found the entrances to two underground mines. Arge pit caught his eye, and he smiled. "This is it."


    With a great deal of effort, the sailors pushed the cart into the mine.


    ��I''ll check the other side. Let''s split up,�� Rhaegar said, patting Sea Snake on the shoulder before heading into the second mine alone.


    ��Your Grace,�� Sea Snake called out, momentarily stunned. He didn��t have time to stop Rhaegar before he disappeared into the fog.


    Resigned, the Sea Snake ordered the sailors to bury the dragon bones and abandon the cart.


    ...


    On the other side of the mountain, Rhaegar found himself tumbling into the mine tunnel as the ground gave way in a suddenndslide.


    Crack!


    A bone snapped as he hit the ground, sending up a cloud of dust.


    "Cough, cough..." Rhaegar covered his mouth and nose, his eyes scanning the dark, damp tunnel. The space stretched deep and far, shrouded in pitch-ck darkness. Stumbling slightly, he drew his de, Truefyre, from his waist. The ck sword ignited, mes bursting along the edge, casting flickering light against the shadowy walls.


    Using the fire��s glow, Rhaegar kicked aside a heap of bones and pressed forward. After what felt like an eternity of walking through the dimly lit tunnel, he finally reached a wide corner. Here, the ground was clear of bones, and faint glimmers of crystal ore shone through the dust.


    "This is the ce," Rhaegar muttered, surveying the area carefully. With Truefyre still aze, he dug a deep pit into the earth, the ck de cutting easily through the soil. He gently ced the small dragon skull, which had been tied to his waist, into the pit.


    When the task was done, Rhaegar drove Truefyre into the ground and closed his eyes, waiting in the silence. This was thest of the dragon bones, the one that should finally activate the relic.


    "Roar..."


    The sound of a dragon''s roar echoed in his ears, deep and powerful.


    [Congrattions, the wish of the dragon soul has been activated, and you have obtained...]


    [Dragon Soul Guidance]


    Level: Legendary (Red)


    Function: Grants directional guidance (based on the dragon''s memories before death).


    Comment: "The dragon soul carries the wisdom of ages, revealing an extraordinary tale."


    A dragon tooth appeared out of nowhere, its dark surface etched with pale, glowing lines. In an instant, five dragon-shaped figures, each of a different size and form, emerged from the markings. Before Rhaegar could react, the tooth flew back into his palm, trembling gently, almost as if it longed to show the way.


    "Guide the way... to the Smoking Sea?" Rhaegar whispered, as new thoughts began to flood his mind. The dragon whose bones he''d buried had been a giant, its skeletonrger than that of the slender Caraxes. The beast had likely lived for more than sixty years��a wealth of knowledge and memory for him to draw upon.


    And now, with the guidance of five dragons, that knowledge was his to unlock.

 Chapter 595: The Cannibal’s Hibernation

    Chapter 595: The Cannibal��s Hibernation


    The tunnels branched in all directions, illuminated by the vibrant glow of various ores. Rhaegar relied on his senses to search for the buried history hidden within. It was still early, and he needed to explore the Fourteen mes. As he ventured deeper into the pitch-ck tunnel, the intensity of the fire magic in the air grew stronger. With each breath, his heart filtered the pure magic, gradually strengthening his body.


    "Roar..."


    Halfway through, a thunderous roar reverberated through the tunnel, dislodging loose gravel from above. Rhaegar''s eyes shed as he raised Truefyre and identified a fork in the tunnel. Without a word, he sped into it...


    Boom!


    ��Roar...��


    The Cannibal��s ferocious growl echoed as wisps of greenish Dragonfire curled from its mouth, ready to erupt at any moment. Several abominations emerged from the pits.


    ��Ssshh...��


    With a piercing shriek, the pits burst open, releasing red-bodied monsters. Their gaping mouths and thick bodies crushed the rocks, like death worms poised to devour life.


    ��Roar!��Dark green Dragonfire spewed forth as the Cannibal pounced with lightning speed. With a loud crack, flesh tore apart, and blood sttered throughout the mine, clinging to the soft, bby red flesh.


    ��Roar!��


    The monsters fought back, trying to wrap their thick bodies around the dragon��s ws.


    Pop!


    The Cannibal��s pupils filled with cunning and cruelty as its ws lifted and fell, grinding the monsters into pulp.


    Boom!


    One of the abominations opened its ugly mouth and spewed a red me that resembled acid. The battle-hardened Cannibal turned its head, narrowly avoiding its vulnerable eyes. The red me seared the dragon''s neck, white smoke rising from its dark scales.


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal felt a slight sting and, unable to restrain its rage, stretched its neck and bit the monster to pieces.


    Gulp~


    The dragon''s teeth shredded the rotten flesh, mixing it with the stench of heat as it swallowed.


    Suddenly, the Cannibal felt a sense of fullness.


    "Roar..."


    Its pupils shed with confusion as its scarlet tongue licked its mouth, feeling a strange addiction. ncing around, it saw the ground littered with the corpses of monsters. Some attempted to crawl back into the ground, while others writhed and screamed in agony. The Cannibal''s nostrils red as it caught a repulsive scent, one that instinct told it to reject.


    After a brief pause, the dragon opened its mouth, picked up a half-dead monster in its jaws, and chewed, blood spurting as it fed.


    ��Cannibal!��


    Suddenly, its rider��s voice echoed from the entrance of the mine. Rhaegar sprinted towards the scene but halted abruptly at the sight before him.


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal was engrossed in its meal, roaring at the driver as it continued to tear into the corpse. The taste reminded it of the young dragons it had hunted in the past��soft, plump meat, hot as fire, and radiating a special kind of heat.


    Rhaegar��s eyes widened in shock. ��Firewyrms!?��


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal seemed to respond, flinging a piece of the remains at the King, sttering hot blood everywhere.


    ��Be careful, man!��


    Rhaegar leapt back, staring at the broken wyrm. He recalled Barth the Septon, the Hand of the King and friend of Old King, who had written a book titled <em>Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History</em>. It described the magical creatures known as "<em>Firewyrms</em>" or "<em>Wyrms</em>" that only existed in the Lands of the Long Summer. Seeing one in person was a different experience altogether.


    ��Wyrms aren��t a good ingredient,�� Rhaegar warned the greedy Cannibal, using his sword to lift the remains of the finely scaled carcass.


    In both ancient Valyria and Barth''s writings, dragons and wyrms were natural enemies, constantly battling in the sky and underground. While the two species might have shared the Fourteen mes as their nesting ground, territorial struggles were inevitable. Even though wyrms were tough and capable of spitting fire, they were no match for dragons. Dragons couldn��t burrow underground, which gave the them a chance to breed��but could they really be eaten?


    ��Grrrr... grrrr...��


    The Cannibal answered with action, digging into the ground with its powerful ws and snatching up the fleeing wyrms, swallowing them whole.


    ��Alright,�� Rhaegar conceded, feeling the dragon''s possessiveness over its food through their deep soul link. With each bite, a surge of chaotic fire magic filled his body. The fire magic was particrly violent and corrupt. While Rhaegar��s own fire magic was like a clear stream with fish visible in the water, the Cannibal��s was restless and explosive, like a firecracker ready to ignite. The fire magic from the Firewyrms was akin to magma spewing from a volcano��mixed with ash, smoke, and ominous, harmful substances.


    As the Cannibal chewed, the flesh and blood were broken down in its stomach.


    Bang!


    Rhaegar sensed something strange and touched his chest, feeling his heart race. He called up the system panel.


    [Rhaegar Targaryen]


    <em>Talent:</em> Dreamer (Gold)


    <em>Bloodline:</em> Dragonborn (61%)


    <em>Runes:</em> Bronze (Green), Serpent (Blue), Dream Eater (Purple)


    <em>Blood Magic:</em> Binding Charm (Blue), Dragon Dance (Purple)...


    <em>Relics:</em> Blood and Fire, Dreamscape, Pure Water...


    Comment: ��Descendant of Valyria, returning to the embrace of The Lands of the Long Summer.��


    Rhaegar scanned the panel, noting a slight increase in the bloodline percentage but no other changes. His gaze settled on "Pure Water," and he guessed the reason. The ability to share his poison resistance with the dragon must have allowed the Cannibal to safely consume the wyrms, which would otherwise be harmful to its flesh and blood.


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal��s green eyes gleamed with excitement as it finished thest wyrm and charged into another tunnel.


    ��Where are you going?��


    Rhaegar was stunned, feeling an inexplicable heat surge through him.


    Boom!


    In response, he heard the sound of rocks shattering as the ck dragon barreled forward, widening the tunnel with its sheer force.


    Crack! Crack!


    The Cannibal sniffed the air, found a pit filled with red ore, and began devouring it. Rhaegar followed closely behind, watching as the dragon feasted on stone.


    In that moment, Rhaegar��s pupils shrank as he inhaled the thick, almost tangible fire magic. Each unmined red orb glowed like a bonfire in the night, radiating an intense heat.


    ��This ore naturally contains fire magic,�� Rhaegar whispered, watching the Cannibal devour the red ore. The dragon chewed quickly, reducing an entire wall of ore to rubble until it could eat no more. Stretching its thick neck, it let out a deep, rumbling burp.


    The Cannibal shook its massive body lightly before curling up at the edge of the pit, its glowing vertical pupils slowly closing. Soon, its hot breaths became long and steady as it drifted into a dormant state.


    Rhaegar was surprised. ''The wyrms and the red ore must have provided the Cannibal with enough energy,'' he thought.


    Thest time the dragon went into hibernation, it had been after devouring the remains of the wild dragon Morghul. The Cannibal had slept for three days and nights, and when it awoke, it had grown to a size that surpassed Vhagar, thergest dragon at the time.


    Rhaegar smiled, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. ��When you return to the Lands of the Long Summer, how far will you grow?�� he wondered aloud.


    Before setting foot in the Lands of the Long Summer, he had only a vague idea of what ancient Valyria was like. Now that he was here, he realized how different it was. The air was thick with fire magic, and special ore like that found in the Fourteen mes was abundant. No wonder Balerion the ck Dread had grown so massive. A dragon born in thesends had a significant advantage over those hatched in Westeros.


    Rhaegar fell into a trance, muttering, ��No wonder Daenys�� dream showed Balerion being chased by several dragons.�� He suspected the Fourteen mes had consumed too many special ores, leading to conflicts with other dragons.


    Crack!


    Rhaegar snapped off a piece of red ore with his bare hands, feeling the concentrated fire magic within. He knew that the growth of dragons was inseparable from the nourishment of such magic. The existence of the Fourteen mes seemed like a breeding ground for dragon growth.


    Rhaegar turned the ore over in his hand, contemting its potential. He crushed it with force, the fire magic swirling around his fingers. Unfortunately, the magic was tooplex, filled with impurities, and unsuitable for direct absorption.


    ��To use it, you must purify the impurities little by little,�� Rhaegar murmured, eyeing the red ore embedded in the stone walls around him. It wasn��t suitable for humans to absorb, but it could be fed to dragons.


    He realized its value. ''It must be used....''


    ...


    Night had fallen over King��s Landing, and the Red Keep was shrouded in shadow.


    ��She sent me a letter,�� a deep voice resonated in the dim candlelight.


    Hena knelt on the carpet, silently sewing a girl''s dress. She did not look up.


    ��You don��t have to speak, sister,�� Aemond said, seated cross-legged on the other side of the room. He adjusted the candlestick, flicking the wick to brighten the me.


    Hena kept her head down, saying nothing.


    ��The Dornish don��t deserve pity, do they?�� Aemond pressed, searching for agreement in her silence.


    In the faintly lit room, the siblings faced each other. Hena��s expression remained nk, her thoughts distant. She had always been more of a listener.


    ��Sigh.��


    Aemond exhaled softly, his shoulders slumping as he leaned toward his sister, though he hesitated to move any closer. Hena nced at him briefly, then bent her head to cut the thread. ��You should go back now,�� she reminded him.


    Who could discipline a child for mistakes made in childhood? She was the older sister, but she couldn��t bring herself to chastise him.


    ��Go away.��


    Aemond flushed with embarrassment. His eyes fell on the small shirt she was embroidering with a purple flower, and he changed the subject. ��Are you nning to dress my nephew like a girl?��


    ��Different seeds produce different flowers,�� Hena replied indifferently, as if nothing truly mattered anymore.


    ��Alright,�� Aemond muttered, not fully understanding but knowing his sister didn��t want him there.


    ��I��m going to patrol the Red Keep. You should rest early,�� he said, standing up and strapping on his sword. Reluctantly, he pushed open the door. He had wanted to spend more time with her, even if they didn��t fully understand one another. Their blood bond brought a sense of ease.


    Bang.


    The door closed softly, but the sound still seemed heavy in the quiet room. Hena looked up, a flicker of confusion in her eyes. She stood and searched for the basket where she kept her spools of thread. Finding another small boy��s garment, she resumed sewing, her hands moving in silence...


    ...


    The Narrow Sea, off the coast of w Isle.


    The waves crashed against the shore in the still of the night. res illuminated the silhouette of a vast fleet, their sails adorned with purple shells and golden scales, symbols of Braavos and Pentos.


    Thump, thump, thump...


    The sound of drums echoed across the sea. Under the cover of darkness, another fleet crossed the Bay of Crabs, its sails bearing the crest of a eagle.

 Chapter 596: The Dragon’s Transformation

    Chapter 596: The Dragon��s Transformation


    Time passed quickly, and the autumn leaves fell. Near the Summer Sea, the temperature remained high...


    At the foot of Fourteen mes Mountain in the Lands of the Long Summer, a harsh sun beat down.


    "Your Grace, the exploration team is back." Under the scorching sun, the Sea Snake hobbled up the mountain slope.


    "Be careful." Rhaegar helped him up, then asked suspiciously, "How is the situation?"


    Three months had passed. The king and his adviser had traveled nearly the entire Lands of the Long Summer, searching for hidden ruins. The Sea Snake looked up at the clear sky, wiping the sweat from his brow. "The sailors sailed 200 miles west and found only the ruins of a Free City, nothing more than crumbled stone."


    Rhaegar sighed. "It seems there is little hope."


    The vastnd they stood on was asrge as a region of Westeros, but it was trapped in the peculiar climate of the Smoking Sea. There were vast grasnds, but not a single river with drinkable fresh water. The fresh water they drank each day was still taken from the snow on the distant peaks.


    The resources for trees, fisheries, and animal husbandry were nearly nonexistent. Aside from a limited area of old-growth pine trees near the snow-capped peaks, it was difficult to find any vegetation beyond scattered weeds. Thend was almost devoid of birds, fish, or insects, and it fell silent at night.


    The Sea Snake hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Your Grace, our supplies willst another month, but we must n ahead.""I understand," Rhaegar nodded. The gravity of their situation was clear. Supplies would be exhausted in a month at most, even if they resorted to ughtering the cattle and sheep meant for the dragons. Otherwise, someone would have to venture into the fog and attempt to fish in the Smoking Sea. No one believed they could catch anything in the boiling, salty waters.


    Rhaegar exhaled deeply, then said firmly, "Pack up. We''ll leave the day after tomorrow."


    "The sailors will be grateful to you, Your Grace," the Sea Snake replied solemnly.


    After that, the two parted ways. The Sea Snake returned to the camp to sort through the porcin, broken swords, and tons of ore mined from the Fourteen mes, all gathered from various ruins.


    ...


    Rhaegar walked into the underground mine with a solemn expression. After thoroughly exploring the Fourteen mes, he discovered that most of the nests above the mountainside were blocked off, tangled inyers of withered vine roots. Without a dragon��s aid, breaking through would be nearly impossible.


    ��Breathe fire and harness your wings.


    Stand with two heads and sing to the three.


    By my voice, the words of fire.��


    In the dimly lit tunnel, Rhaegar advanced with Truefyre in hand, his voice echoing through the narrow passage as he sang an ancient Valyrian bad. It was a song passed down through generations of his house, used to awaken sleeping dragons.


    And now, it was time to wake the Cannibal.


    Three months ago, the dragon had gorged itself on wyrms and pyroxeres ore, sinking into an unbreakable deep sleep. But with their departure imminent, the beast had to be roused. Rhaegar''s eyes gleamed with anticipation, his voice growing deep and powerful as he chanted, ��Blood magic, the sacrifice has been paid...��


    He wanted to see with his own eyes what his dragon had be.


    Rumbling echoed from deep within the tunnel, the sound of scales scraping against stone walls. A hot st of air blew past, causing the mes of his torch to flicker. Rhaegar strode forward steadily, and through the darkness, he saw a massive silhouette, its enormous head slowly shifting.


    ��Roar!��


    A thunderous roar suddenly filled the crypt, and the dragon��s head lunged forward, expelling ash-like mes. In an instant, the chamber was illuminated by a deep green light.


    ��Cannibal, wake up!�� Rhaegar��s face was alight with excitement, his gaze fixed on the awakening beast. The green Dragonfire that once filled the air now dispersed, as if breaking free from the constraints of gas and liquid, forming silent ash particles. The embers floated and swayed, deliberately avoiding Rhaegar and instead attaching themselves to the cracked walls.


    Boom!


    The mes spread rapidly, transforming into a fiery inferno. Rhaegar��s breathing quickened, and a smile tugged at his lips.


    Boom!


    A ck dragon head slowly emerged from the darkness, its three pairs of long, curved gray-white horns appearing ferocious against the backdrop of its malevolent green eyes. In the shadows, it resembled a terrifying, ancient god.


    Rhaegar extended a hand and smiled. "Old friend, you''ve finally woken up."


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal''s pupils glowed with a hungry green light. One of its wings mmed down, causing the ground to shake violently and sending rocks tumbling as its sharp, gray-white ws dug into the earth. Then, the dragon''s entire body emerged from the shadows, its scales gleaming with a metallic sheen in the firelight.


    Bang!


    The dragon''s massive head thrust forward, its snout colliding with Rhaegar''s outstretched palm. It seemed to be answering its rider��s call.


    Rhaegar closed his eyes, sensing every change in the dragon. His lips curled into a slight smile.


    ...


    Outside the Fourteen mes, on the barrennd, withered vines had been woven into a small nest. Daemon, dressed haphazardly, was swinging his sword to chop firewood. He didn��t get along with his nephew, and his disdain for the Sea Snake was even greater. Upon arriving in the Lands of the Long Summer, he chose to live alone. Fortunately, the only real danger in thesends were the Firewyrms.


    Crack! The pine wood split cleanly, releasing a sharp snap. Daemon wiped the sweat from his brow and pped his aching back. ''Farmers are better suited for this kind of hardbor,'' he thought, with a twinge of bitterness. ''It��s a shame the Dark Sister has been reduced to a mere tool for chopping wood.''


    ��Roar...�� A melodious, high-pitched screech echoed from afar, and the clouds overhead swirled like whipped egg whites. Caraxes swayed through the sky like a snake, pping itsrge wings to create a gust before lowering its hind legs and descending slowly.


    Boom!


    Daemon nced up, pride gleaming in his eyes. A massive, scaly, red-colored serpent-like creaturended before him, its appearance noticeably altered from three months ago. The once dark, dirty scales now gleamed with a vivid, blood-red hue. Its slender neck moved with a snake-like flexibility, no longer losing bnce when extended. The sharp, fierce dragon head clutched a gray sheep in its jaws, thick blood dripping from its mouth. Caraxes now truly looked like the Blood Wyrm it was named after.


    "Caraxes,e here and let me have a look." Using the Dark Sister for support, Daemon��s voice carried a maicmand.


    "Roar..." Caraxes responded to its rider��s call, leaping down the slope and extending its snake-like neck to nuzzle its head against Daemon.


    "Good boy, good boy," Daemon murmured, his hands resting on the dragon''s hot mouth as he looked it over with delight. The beast had grown significantly since their arrival. Three months ago, Caraxes had been about 70 meters long, simr in size to Meleys, and slightly smaller than the wild Sheepstealer. Now, its scarlet body had stretched to over 80 meters, with a wingspan broad enough to cover a warship. In terms of size, Caraxes now rivaled the Silverwing of Dragonstone, even surpassing Sheepstealer.


    Daemon and the dragon shared a moment of mutual affection, rubbing their heads together. But then Daemon noticed the dead sheep and eximed, "Did Corlys bring sheep?" He was puzzled, remembering that only goats had been brought from Dragonstone. "Where did you get the sheep, Caraxes?"


    Daemon frowned, pulling a handful of gray, soft wool from the dragon��s teeth.


    ��Roar!�� Caraxes let out a satisfied moan, swallowing the sheep whole. Daemon��s frown deepened, and he was about to press further when...


    Rumbling.


    Suddenly, the ground shook, as if a giant beast were breaking through the earth. Daemon quickly turned, realizing the noise wasing from the foot of the Fourteen mes.


    "What is it?" he muttered, drawing the Dark Sister. Grabbing the ropedder, he swiftly climbed onto Caraxes�� back.


    ...


    Boom!


    A deafening explosion rocked the underground mine as a surge of greenish Dragonfire erupted, shattering the solid stone walls in an instant.


    Roar!


    The long-slumbering beast burst from the cave in a sh of blinding light.


    ��Fly, Cannibal!�� Rhaegarmanded, his voice calm yet powerful, his ck robes billowing around him as his intense gaze followed the dragon.


    Roar!


    The Cannibal roared into the sky, its sharp gray horns slicing through the clouds of dust that obstructed its view. With a powerful beat of its dark wings, the massive dragon ascended, its enormous body cutting through the air like a force of nature.


    Rhaegar��s silver hair whipped wildly around him as he threw his head back andughed, a triumphant sound that echoed across the mountains. The Cannibal gave him a sidelong nce before turning its attention to the summit of the Fourteen mes, hidden beneath a thickyer of cloud. The dragon opened its mouth and unleashed a torrent of green Dragonfire, the mes flickering like ghostly ash as they scorched the air.


    Pop!


    Man and dragon soared straight through the Dragonfire, the intense heat burning small holes in Rhaegar��s ck robe. But his grin only widened, his hand gripping the hilt of a ck dragon horn, triumphant and unbothered by the mes licking at his clothes.


    Roar!


    The Cannibal let out another thunderous roar, its thick tail whipping through the air and smashing a chunk of volcanic rock as it circled the towering peaks of the Fourteen mes. The dragon''s immense power seemed to transcend mortal limitations, a force far beyond the strength of men.


    Far below, Daemon sat astride Caraxes, watching the spectacle unfold above. The ck dragon soared recklessly, its roars shaking the sky as it unleashed more Dragonfire, painting half the sky an eerie green��like a hellish mirage.


    ��His dragon became more powerful.,�� Daemon muttered, his voice filled with both awe and a tinge of something darker. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword as his gaze remained fixed on the ck dragon above.


    As he watched, the full scale of the Cannibal��s growth became apparent. Compared to the Fourteen mes, the ck dragon had grown monstrouslyrge. Its immense ck wings cast a vast shadow over the mountain, almostpletely eclipsing the towering peaks beneath it.


    ...


    ��Cannibal, faster!�� Rhaegar shouted, slicing his palm and allowing blood to flow freely.


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal bared its jagged white fangs, conjuring a whirlwind that carried the scent of ash and death. Rhaegar''s eyes gleamed with joy as he observed the dragon''s immense power. After devouring the wild dragon Morghul, the Cannibal had grown to an impressive length of 150 meters, surpassing even Vhagar, who was over 180 years old. It had be thergest dragon in the world.


    Now, it had grown even more. By his estimation, the Cannibal stretched over 160 meters, dwarfing dragons like Silverwing and Sheepstealer by double their size.


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal unleashed a torrent of emerald Dragonfire, its green eyes reflecting a cold indifference. With each increase in size, itsbat prowess had advanced exponentially, promising even greater power as time progressed.


    Suddenly, the dragon tooth clutched in Rhaegar''s hand began to emit a soft glow. His gaze sharpened as he raised the obsidian fang etched with pale dragon patterns. The atmosphere around them shifted dramatically; the very sky and earth seemed to tremble as clouds parted violently, forming a swirling circr barrier around the revealed peaks of the Fourteen mes.


    ��Roar... Roar...��


    A cacophony of chaotic dragon roars filled the air as the ck dragon tooth vibrated, projecting five spectral dragon forms of varying sizes. Rhaegar remainedposed, his eyes fixed on the unfolding spectacle.


    Thergest of the apparitions, a phantom dragon rivaling Meleys in size, let out a thunderous roar before diving straight into Rhaegar''s forehead.


    Hum.


    Rhaegar''s eyes closed as a flood of unfamiliar memories surged through his mind: visions of the Fourteen mes, flowing magma, and groups of silver-haired figures shed before him. The spectral dragon quivered before dissolving into a cascade of ephemeral bubbles, each containing fragments of ancient recollections that pieced together seamlessly within his consciousness.


    An expression of profound realization crossed Rhaegar''s face as he murmured to himself, ��The Dragon''s Horn...��

 Chapter 597: Young Dragon of the Smoking Sea

    Chapter 597: Young Dragon of the Smoking Sea


    The image captures what lies in the depths of the heart.


    Dark clouds shroud the sky, with relentless wind and waves crashing in the distance. Rain drips steadily, while the mist swirls into a tightening vortex.


    Crack!


    A bolt of lightning strikes, apanied by a shrill dragon��s roar.


    ��Roar...��


    The perspective zooms in closer, revealing a figure cloaked in dark blue. Rhaegar��s eyes are closed, and his brow suddenly furrows.


    ��Roar...��


    A dark blue dragon��s shadow bursts through the storm, its piercing eyes searching with an extraordinary resilience. The dragon shadow flies faster and faster, almost as if it''s heading straight for you.


    Boom!The shadow reveals its true form, spewing dragonfire at the encroaching storm. The blue dragonfire whirls like a silky sea current, quietly consuming the storm.


    ��A lost young dragon!�� Rhaegar thought, tilting his head slightly as joy welled up within him. The dragon wasn��t veryrge, about the size of Iragaxys or Stormcloud��a sub-adult young dragon. This matched the information he had received.


    Crackling...


    Lightning and thunder crash, stirring up the torrential rain and a thick mist. His vision begins to blur, making it difficult to see clearly. Rhaegar��s heart sinks, but he forces himself to stay calm.


    ��Roar...��


    The young blue dragon lets out another roar that echoes through the raging storm. It dives from the sky, disappearing into the turbulent mist below.


    In an instant, the scene shifts.


    The ruins of an old, dpidated Free City emerge before him. Rhaegar��s eyelids twitch in shock. ��Is there such a ce in the Smoking Sea?��


    Drizzling...


    The storm grows fiercer, with the chaotic sky seeming to copse. Large fish with jagged fangs and gray, slimy scales wriggle through the rain, which crackles as it hits the ground.


    ��Roar...��


    The young blue dragon glides past, clutching an ugly monster in its jaws, andnds on a cliff by the sea. As it gnaws on the bloody fish, it turns its head, casting a gaze in this direction. Though the dragon��s head is obscured, its dark, vertical pupils stand out clearly, shing with deep, keen insight.


    Pop~


    The fragments of memory shattered once more, leaving behind a trace of spiritual energy. Before Rhaegar could react, it felt as though fireworks exploded in his mind, sending a warm surge of energy coursing through his body. Suddenly, the weakness he had felt from the dragon-head ne vanishedpletely.


    ��Roar... Roar...��


    Though the memory had seemed long, in reality, only a brief moment had passed. Rhaegar quietly opened his eyes, and a faint, invisible light flickered within them. As thest few roars faded, the scattered fragments of memory gradually dissipated. Rhaegar��s spirit felt invigorated as he absorbed all the information, making it his own.


    In just a few seconds, he had gained a wealth of knowledge. His eyes deepened as he murmured, ��The ruins where the dragons�� remains were found are indeed the work of the Daeryon family.��


    The remaining memories of the five dragon spirits confirmed that they were all dragons of House Daeryon. The Doom hade too swiftly, and the dragons, unable to wait for their riders, were instead consumed by the magma that rained from the sky. Beyond this, there were only insignificant fragments.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal��s green pupils dted as its wings snapped shut, sending it into a steep dive,unching an attack. Rhaegar��s body swayed as he was momentarily taken aback.


    Roar!


    The Cannibal opened its massive jaws, unleashing a torrent of ash-like dragonfire. In the next instant, the dragonfire struck a nest halfway up the Fourteen mes, instantly incinerating the surrounding yellow vines.


    Roar!


    A panicked shriek echoed from the nest as a ck dragon shadow flew out in terror. It collided with the dragonfire, and the scarlet membranes of its wings clung to its bones, seared by the green mes.


    ��Roar! Roar!��


    The dragon shadow cried out as it flew, racing toward the snow-capped peak in agony.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal��s green eyes gleamed with a predatory intensity, its massive body hovering in the air as thick saliva dripped from its dragon mouth.


    ��Control yourself, old friend,�� Rhaegar said, holding the reins and soothing the beast. ��We��ll have a good mealter.��


    ��Roar...��


    The Cannibal growled, licking its scarlet tongue over its upper lip before descending from the sky. Rhaegar paused for a moment, unable to help but admire the creature. The man and dragon were in perfect sync, each sensing the other��s hunger. The hunger was so intense it could have consumed them both, but the fact that the Cannibal resisted such a powerful urge was proof that it was gradually mastering its nature.


    ��A true transformation,�� Rhaegar thought with joy, his gaze lifting to the solitary snow peak.


    He almost didn��t recognize the ck dragon that had burst from the nest. As a dragon without a rider, Iragaxys had roamed the Lands of the Long Summer for three months, with no one to watch over it. asionally, it would appear, snatch a goat from a ship, and vanish. Now, it had nearly doubled in size, reaching an impressive 20 meters. At this size, it was no longer a sub-adult��it had reached the threshold of adulthood. The older Tessarion was only slightly smaller.


    ��The Fourteen mes�� influence on dragons is truly astonishing,�� Rhaegar reflected, his eyes filled with longing.


    It was no wonder ancient Valyria had once supported forty Dragonlord houses and raised a thousand dragons at its peak. And it was no wonder that such a terrifyingnd could only be destroyed by a natural disaster, for nothing else could have brought it down.


    ...


    Two dayster...


    ��Roar!��


    Halfway up the Fourteen mes, the ck dragon clung to the rocky cliff, stretching its neck into a nearby nest.


    ��Cannibal, be careful!��


    Rhaegar hung upside down on the dragon��s back, his heart and eyes full of helplessness. The ck dragon paid no heed, scraping at the rocks with its sharp ws before withdrawing its gray-white, horned head. With a crunching sound, the fearsome creature spat out a piece of finely scaled flesh.


    Rhaegar nced at it and sighed, rubbing his forehead. ��You��ve already eaten enough.��


    For three days, the beast had been hunting Firewyrms, emptying nest after nest across the Fourteen mes, searching for any hiding ces the creatures might have found.


    ��Roar...��


    Suddenly, a high-pitched, shrill cry echoed from the horizon. The gluttonous dragon whipped around, its pupils narrowing with a fierce look.


    ��Calm yourself, my friend,�� Rhaegar said soothingly.


    A massive, scarlet-colored, snake-like creature glided towards them, itsrge wings spread wide. Daemon, fully armed, rode atop the dragon. Rhaegar patted the Cannibal��s back and said, ��Let��s go.��


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal roared defiantly, leaping from the Fourteen mes and gliding with extraordinary agility. It was a dragon built for speed, unburdened by the heaviness of Vhagar or Vermithor. Even the swiftest of dragons, like the Blood Wyrm, would struggle to escape its grasp.


    ...


    The Cannibal soared across the Great Grass Sea, cutting through the mist that hung over the shoreline. House Vryon��s fleet awaited them, anchored in the slightly rippling waters of the Smoking Sea. The Sea Snake was waiting in a small boat near the beach, with Caraxes keeping watch nearby.


    ��Land,�� Rhaegarmanded.


    At the sound of his voice, the Cannibal descended slowly, touching down with a controlled grace. Rhaegar slid off the dragon��s back and joined the Sea Snake and Daemon.


    As soon as they met, the Sea Snake spoke up, ��Your Grace, two of our ships are too damaged to repair with wood. We��ll have to abandon them.��


    Rhaegar nodded, unsurprised. It was just another sacrifice for House Vryon, to let go of such costly warships.


    Daemon tilted his head, asking, ��Have you decided on the route?��


    ��Of course,�� Rhaegar replied with confidence.


    ording to the dragon spirit��s guidance, the young dragon and the Dragon��s Horn were likely in the same ce��the ruined Free Cities seen in the memory fragments. The Lands of the Long Summery north of the Smoking Sea, a hidden continental te shrouded in mist. The ruined Free Cities, however, were on the coast, in a region with an extremely harsh climate. This meant they were situated south of the Smoking Sea, among the many Free Cities built around the Fourteen mes��in other words, the ruins of the Free Cities Empire.


    Daemon narrowed his eyes, asking, ��Are you sure you want to leave this ce?��


    ��I��ve always kept the purpose of this journey in mind,�� Rhaegar said with certainty.


    Leaving the Lands of the Long Summer would be easy, but returning would be far more difficult. The route to the ruined Free Cities would inevitably cross the perilous Smoking Sea. Fortunately, Rhaegar knew the way well and could avoid many of the dangers.


    ��We��ll sail ording to this sea chart. The Cannibal and I will lead the way.��


    Rhaegar pulled out a newly drawn sea chart, showing the distance between the Lands of the Long Summer and the ruined Free Cities. The Sea Snake took the chart, his expression serious. ��It��s about a three-day journey, barring any unforeseen events.��


    Rhaegar mounted the dragon��s back and said calmly, ��If you travel with me, there will be no idents.��


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal shook its massive body andunched into the air, its hind legs propelling it upward. Daemon smiled and made his way towards the awaiting Caraxes.


    ...


    Half an hourter...


    ��Roar!��


    A dark dragon shadow emerged from the beach, its scarlet wings beating against the air. The fleet had already sailed far ahead, just visible on the horizon, trailing behind. As the dragon soared through theyers of mist, the Lands of the Long Summer faded back into its eerie, deathly silence.


    The scene shifted.


    Snow-capped mountains loomed in the distance, and at their base, the vast grassy ins stretched out, swaying gently in the wind.


    ��Moo~~��


    A dozen sheep bleated weakly as they grazed on the sparse grass. Their dirty, emaciated bodies were a stark contrast to the lush pastures they yearned for. From time to time, one of the sheep would lift its head, gazing numbly at the sky as if wary of some lurking predator.


    Squeak...


    Not far away, on a hidden hillside, three figuresy low to the ground, wrapped in sheepskin coats and covered in dirt, blending into thendscape. The breeze stirred, revealing the gray, tangled hair of an old woman and two youngpanions. The old woman was hunched, her milky white eyes empty and sightless. The two teenagers beside her were pale, their faces gaunt from hunger, looking like wildlings from beyond the Great Wall.


    ��Grandma, those people are gone,�� the maiden whispered, her lc eyes fixed on the sheep grazing below.


    There had been dozens of sheep, but two dragons��one ck, one red��had descended upon them, leaving only half of the flock. If the sheep hadn��t been hidden in the cave, the dragons would have devoured them all.


    Dong!


    The old woman struck the ground with a branch, producing a dull thud. The maiden listened to the sound and lowered her head in silence. They were fortunate the dragons had left, or they would still be cowering in the cave, terrified.


    Boom!


    The old woman struck the branch again, her hollow eyes turning towards the beach. An unnatural flush of excitement crossed her weathered face.


    ��The dragons are gone,�� the maiden murmured, her voice hoarse and tinged with sorrow.


    Three dragons had appeared in their world, but none belonged to them. Instead, they had brought further disruption to an already harsh existence.


    Dong!


    She beat the ground harder, struggling to rise from the grass. The maiden reached out to help but was pulled forward instead. Together, the old woman and the young girl, both small and frail, began walking toward the beach like two sheep on an uncertain journey.


    ��Baa~~��


    The young girl, eyes wide with a mix of hope and desperation, herded the sheep forward as if they were her most precious possession.

 Chapter 598: The House of Aurion

    Chapter 598: The House of Aurion


    Time passed quickly, and three days slipped by.


    The Smoking Seay shrouded in mist, with eerie howls echoing from all directions. Drizzling rain turned into a sudden downpour, the cold, piercing raindrops soaking everything in their path.


    ��Roar!��


    A deep, thunderous roar shook the air, reverberating through the dark, charcoal-ck wings of the dragon as it stirred the rolling clouds. Rhaegar, drenched to the skin, looked down at the fleet below. Twenty ships sailed ever closer to a cliff hidden within the thick fog.


    ��A little closer, my friend,�� Rhaegar murmured, his eyes locked on the approaching shoreline.


    After three days of calm sailing across the vast Smoking Sea, the fleet had finally reached the far side of ancient Valyria. This had to be the ce the dragon spirit had guided them to.


    ��Roar...��


    Suddenly, blue fire shed within the dark clouds, followed by a piercing roar.


    ��Cannibal, hurry!�� Rhaegar shouted, looking up as he caught sight of a vague dragon shadow.��Roar...��


    The Cannibal��s green pupils red with ferocity as it broke through the heavy clouds, roaring in response.


    Crackling...


    The rain intensified, now apanied by jagged silver lightning.


    ��Roar...��


    A streak of blue dragonfire shot past, grazing the side of the ck dragon. With a loud boom, the Cannibal tilted its head, disoriented. A sh of blue light, like a bat, pierced the clouds and plunged into the murky sea below.


    But this only enraged the giant beast.


    The Cannibal��s side and neck, drenched in rain and emitting white smoke, showed no damage, but the pain and humiliation were undeniable, fueling the wrath of the wild dragons king.


    ��Quiet, Cannibal!�� Rhaegar called out, his nerves on edge. He hadn��t expected the young dragon to attack.


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal shook its head, and without hesitation, its massive body dove in pursuit of the tiny blue dragon.


    ��Control yourself!�� Rhaegar��s face tightened as he pulled hard on the reins.


    The Cannibal cast a nce at its rider, but instead of slowing, it elerated, dark green dragonfire already burning in its throat.


    How dare that young dragon strike first? It would have to pay the price��by enduring the wrath of a dragon far greater than itself.


    Crackling.


    Lightning split the sky, illuminating the dark curtain of rain. The young blue dragon revealed its true form, skimming just above the surface of the sea. Rhaegar fixed his gaze on the creature, a sense of wonder stirring within him.


    The young dragon was cloaked in dark blue scales, its wing membranes a silvery white, resembling a storm-tossed seagull. Its body was well-proportioned, its flight smooth and powerful. Dragons came in various shapes and sizes, each reflecting their unique natural talents. Cannibal, Vhagar, and Vermithor were allrge and bulky, while Dreamfyre, Silverwing, and Tessarion were more streamlined, making them adept at flying and maneuvering. Sunfyre was an exception��slender, with a long neck, lean body, and extraordinary endurance. Only two other dragons shared such a physique: Meraxes, one of the three dragons that founded the house, and its descendant, Quicksilver. Sadly, both silver-scaled dragons were long dead, leaving the golden Sunfyre as thest of its kind. Of course, Caraxes was also unique, a serpentine dragon unlike any other in the house��s brief history, resembling a Firewyrm with wings.


    ��Roar!��


    The blue and green dragon screamed in terror, speeding across the sea, driven by fear of the Cannibal��s putrid scent. It knew if it didn��t escape, it would surely die.


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal dove first, its massive body overshadowing the smaller dragon, its enormous jaws slowly opening.


    Boom!


    Dark green dragonfire rained down from the sky, falling like ashes and forming a misty halo of fireflies. Each spark sizzled on contact with the rain, turning into white-hot smoke. In an instant, the pungent smoke coalesced into a mushroom cloud, and the remaining dragonfire struck the young dragon with lethal speed.


    Roar!


    The young dragon screamed in agony as the dragonfire prated its scales, igniting a ze across its body. The Cannibal��s green eyes gleamed with a fierce hunger as its enormous body swayed, preparing to devour its prey.


    ��Steady, Cannibal!��


    Sensing the danger, Rhaegar quickly pulled the reins, trying to adjust the dragon��s course. Without a dragon whip, it was difficult to control the enraged beast.


    "Snap out of it!�� Rhaegar shouted, his ck robe rippling as he shifted into his dragonborn state. Dark scales and horns appeared on his forehead, and ck mes flickered around his body.


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal was forced to lift its head, pping its wings as it changed course, releasing the small snack it had nearly imed.


    ��Behave!�� Rhaegarmanded firmly, steering the dragon towards the cliff by manipting the reins. By now, the fleet had docked, and the crew was searching for a way tond.


    "Roar..."


    The young blue dragon, narrowly escaping, disappeared into the night. The Cannibal��s green pupils glowed with resentment as it shook its head violently, emitting a low growl.


    ��Land!��


    Rhaegar ordered, gripping the reins tightly as he wrestled with the dragon. After a fierce struggle, the Cannibal growled irritably, folded its wings, and headed towards the cliff. A wise dragon knows when to bide its time. Sooner orter, it would taste the young dragon.


    ��Hmph!�� Rhaegar snorted, ncing back at the spot where the young dragon had vanished into the distance. There was nowhere else for it to run��it was trapped by thend and the sea. He could always resume the hunt when the storm passed.


    Crackling.


    Amid the thunder and lightning, the Free Cities were washed by the relentless rain, giving them an eerie, ghostly appearance.


    Crackling.


    Suddenly, several crooked arrows shot out from the shadows, aiming for Caraxes as it soared through the stormy sky.


    "Roar!"


    Caraxes nced down, ready to p its wings and dodge, but the arrows were easily blown away by the fierce winds��no more of a threat than twigs snapped from a branch.


    Daemon��s expression darkened. He drew his de, Dark Sister, and shouted, ��Be on guard! Someone��s in the city!��


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal had justnded, but upon hearing the warning, it immediately took off again, diving toward the ruined Free Cities, whichy in shambles beneath a nket of scorched earth.


    Rumble!


    The ground trembled slightly as a noise echoed from a nearby corner.


    ��Dracarys!�� Rhaegar��s face turned ashen as he gave the order.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal unleashed a torrent of dragonfire, sweeping across the crumbling city walls and turning the rainy night into a green inferno. In the light of the mes, a tattered g became visible atop the wall. Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed as he recognized it��a dragon with wings spread wide like those of an eagle, its head tilted as if poised to take flight.


    As the dragonfire zed past, the g wavered and fell.


    Suddenly, several hunched figures emerged from the shadows. They were d in rags, with silver roots of hair visible beneath their tattered hoods. Their movements were strange, a mix of hunching and stooping.


    Rhaegar stared in disbelief, his voice tinged with shock. ��The House of Aurion?��


    ...


    Across the Narrow Sea, in Pentos, the night was dark, the sky adorned with scattered stars. Autumn had arrived, bringing with it a chill that permeated the air. The cold night wind blew, causing the bonfires on the sea to flicker unsteadily.


    Whoo-hoo-hoo!


    A fleet bearing the emblem of a golden bnce on its masts was returning. The once-proud g now hung in tatters, a clear sign of a defeated army.


    ��Speed up! We��re almost at the harbor!��


    Amander with gray, curly hair shouted, his voice trembling with tears of excitement. His eyes reflected a mix of relief and desperation��no one could truly understand the fear that gripped him, knowing the Lord of Light was watching. The ugly brownish-mud dragon had incinerated Braavos�� purple fleet, leaving the Bay of Crabs filled with wailing and burning corpses.


    ��Hurry, hurry, hurry!��


    Themander��s voice cracked as he urged the crew on, his entire body shaking with fear.


    Whoosh!


    Just then, a gust of cold night wind swept through, extinguishing the torches on the warship. Themander''s spirit tensed, and he slowly lifted his head, his movements stiff with dread.


    A pair of amber pupils red coldly from above.


    ��Roar!��


    The cobalt blue dragonfire ignited, dispelling the darkness that loomed overhead. Tessarion��s eyes were icy and merciless, his wings beating powerfully as he hovered in the air.


    ��Dracarys!��


    The boy��smand rang out, piercing the still night.


    ��Roar!��


    Tessarion wasted no time, unleashing a torrent of dragonfire.


    ��Ahhh!��


    Themander was caught in the st, his head and face engulfed in mes. He screamed in agony, covering his burning head, but within seconds, his body went rigid and he fell silent.


    The other sailors stood frozen in ce, paralyzed with fear, awaiting their inevitable end as the dragon circled above, ready to bring death.

 Chapter 599: Filthy Bloodline

    Chapter 599: Filthy Bloodline


    The Smoking Sea, a ce where lost things linger.


    The sky was dim, and the atmosphere hung heavy with an eerie stillness. Torrential rain stirred up a thick mist, while strange fish leaped from the ruins only to plummet back into the murky waters below.


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal loomed in the ruins, its massive, dark body like a mountain blocking out half the sky, shielding Rhaegar from the cold rain. Rhaegar stood before the dragon, his eyes cold and focused on the scene ahead.


    ��Dragon!!��


    ��It��s a dragon��and a ship...��


    A group of ragged, silver-haired figures huddled in the ruins, their eyes wide with fear as they whispered amongst themselves, staring at the ck dragon in awe and terror.


    In the dim light cast by the dark green dragonfire, Rhaegar could see them clearly. A dozen young men of Valyrian descent, d in tattered armor and clutching rusty swords. Yet there was something deeply unsettling about them��these men were strange, even deformed. Their faces were mottled with tiny scales, theirrge purple eyes distorted or split, and their spines twisted unnaturally. Some had protruding teeth, others had upturned noses, and their hands and feet were misshapen.


    ��This is a group of... freaks,�� Rhaegar thought, his eyes dark and inscrutable as his expression hardened.��Roar!��


    The Cannibal, soaked by the relentless rain, was in a foul mood, its massive jaws emitting wisps of green fire that crackled in the damp air.


    ��Dragonlord! The foreign Dragonlord...��


    The crowd cried out in panic, their voices trembling as they looked up at the towering figure of Rhaegar, their fear palpable.


    Rhaegar stood with amanding presence, his wet silver hair clinging to his face, embodying the inhuman beauty of House Targaryen. Compared to him, the deformed figures before him were nothing more than a pitiful rabble.


    ��Which Dragonlord is it?�� someone whispered, their gaze fixed on the ck dragon towering over its rider, its mouth curled in a cruel smirk, eyes glowing with a sinister green light. The dragon��s cunning gaze seemed to fix on the crowd as if it had found a delectable feast.


    Pat!


    Rhaegar stepped forward, kicking an ugly, monstrous fish out of his path. His voice rang out, sharp and demanding: ��Who will tell me the origin of these Free Cities and your people?��


    Silence!


    A dead silence fell over the crowd. They lowered their heads, hiding behind one another, wishing they could disappear into the cracks in the ground.


    Rhaegar scanned the group, but saw no threat��only fear and faces turned away in shame. They concealed their deformed bodies, desperate to hide the fragility thaty beneath their twisted exteriors.


    The Sea Snake led the sailors ashore, surrounding the ruined Free Cities with a practiced precision.


    ��Your Grace,�� the Sea Snake muttered, his expression dark as if he were gazing upon something monstrous.


    When he first set foot in the Lands of the Long Summer, he had hoped to find descendants of Valyria. But after three months of fruitless searching, he had neither discovered any bloodlines that survived the Doom nor encountered a single noteworthy creature. And now, in this deste Free City, he was confronted by a grotesque array of... freaks.


    ��Calm down, Lord Corlys,�� Rhaegar said, narrowing his eyes as he pulled out his dragon-findingpass and began his calctions.


    The stone pointer spun wildly before settling, pointing to the western edge of the ruined Free Cities, toward a crumbling building near the cliffs by the sea. This indicated that the young blue dragon hadn��t fled but was still hiding somewhere on thisnd. Consequently, what he sought must also be here.


    Tap, tap, tap...


    The rain gradually subsided, and a figure emerged from the ruins behind the crowd. He was cloaked in a gray robe riddled with holes, leaning heavily on a cane made of twisted rattan as he limped forward.


    ��Wee, distant guests,�� the man greeted them, lifting his hood to reveal a rugged, yet handsome face.


    ��Who are you?�� Rhaegar asked, his voice sharp.


    The man had long gray hair, dull eyes, and a ck robe that barely concealed his bare, crippled foot. He looked less like a Valyrian descendant and more like a warlock from Qarth.


    ��My name is Xar, Your Magnificence, Dragonlord.�� Xar bowed slightly, clutching his cane as if it were a lifeline.


    ��Xar?�� Rhaegar��s eyes shed with interest. ��What is your family name?��


    He had seen the banner of House Aurion earlier and was keen to know more.


    Xar lowered his head, his voice trembling as he replied, ��Dragonlord, there is no need to test us. We are all descendants of the Dragonlord Aurion.�� A flush of excitement crossed his stiff face as he added, ��May I ask, which house do you hail from?��


    His cloudy eyes flicked toward the ck dragon, revealing a genuine awe. A true adult dragon��a rarity even before the Doom. To this group, descended from a lineage long thought extinct, the sight was beyond belief.


    Rhaegar stood in silence for a moment, his hand tightening around the hilt of Truefyre at his waist. Yet, he didn��t strike. Instead, he gave the Sea Snake a subtle nod.


    Understanding the cue, the Sea Snake��s eyes lit up. He stepped forward and proimed, ��Before you stands Rhaegar of House Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Conqueror of the Narrow Sea, Emperor of Vntis, Breaker of Shackles, Ruin Maker, and Dragon Herder!��


    His voice was powerful, echoing through the damp night air.


    Xar was stunned. He whispered, ��House Targaryen...��


    Wasn��t that the family of exiled Dragonlords? The very house that had once been theughingstock of Valyria?


    ��Roar...��


    The Cannibal roared, lowering its massive head as its green eyes glowed with a murderous intent.


    Rhaegar stood firm before the ck dragon and spoke in a deep,manding voice, ��I havee seeking an ancient Valyrian treasure, one that can heal my father��s damaged spirit. Do you know of such a thing?��


    ...


    Late at night, the rain had finally stopped, leaving a heavy stillness in the air. Two tall figures wandered through an abandoned, crumbling pce, their footsteps echoing softly off the decaying walls.


    Rhaegar stepped over the rotting bricks and stones, his eyes filled with doubt. ��You said this was Tyria, the ce where the Soul Restoring Orchid grows?��


    Tyria, an ancient Free City, was well-documented in various Dragonlord texts. It had once been one of the central Free Cities of Valyria before its fall.


    Grey Hair Shire, ever humble, answered Rhaegar''s questions with unwavering deference. ��Yes, as you said, Tyria was destroyed long ago after the Doom, leaving no trace of its former glory.��


    It waste at night, and the rain had stopped. Two tall figures walked through an abandoned, crumbling pce.


    Rhaegar stepped over the decaying bricks and stones, his eyes full of doubt. "You said this was Tyria, where the Soul Restoring Orchid grows?"


    Tyria was clearly recorded in various Dragonlord books as an ancient Free City, one of the more central Free Cities of ancient Valyria.


    Grey-haired Xar, always humble, answered all questions. "As you said, Tyria was destroyed long ago after the Doom, and there is no trace of its former glory."


    Then, he volunteered, "You mentioned you came from the Lands of the Long Summer. There should be another Oros ruin on the other side of the Smoking Sea. My ancestors have been there before. If the fleet does not choose to cross the Smoking Sea, but instead searches fornd masses in parallel, it may just happen toe across that ruin."


    Rhaegar''s eyes flicked as he asked, "Is your ancestor really the Dragonlord Aurion, the survivor who proimed himself the Emperor of Old Valyria in Qohor?"


    "He did not proim himself. At that time, my ancestor was a great man who restored the glory of Old Valyria," Xar immediately retorted, not noticing his footing and almost tripping over a rock.


    Rhaegar nced at him but said nothing. Realizing he had be too emotional, Xar quickly changed his tone. "Of course, no one could have imagined that a fellow Targaryen could take root in the West. Not only did he unify the First Men, the Andals, and the Rhoynar, but he also brought both sides of the Narrow Sea and Vntis back into the realm of Old Valyria."


    As he spoke, his eyes filled with envy, and his unsteady footsteps became lighter. Such achievements were exactly what the Dragonlord Aurion had pursued. Upholding the will of their ancestors, ancient Valyria was the hope that sustained them in this prison.


    Rhaegar thought to himself, testing, ''The Dragonlord of Aurion disappeared into the Smoking Sea, so why did he leave a bloodline in Tyria?'' This was what concerned him. The Emperor of ancient Valyria, a survivor of the Doom, was one of the few noble Dragonlords who could ride a dragon. The stories he left behind were far more valuable than a ruined Free City.


    "Your Grace, that''s a long story," said Xar, lowering his eyes and speaking in a low voice. "Our ancestors wanted to return to the Free Cities, but they were attacked by extreme weather and monsters, and ended up in Tyria. Tyria was in ruins at the time, and the fleet led by my ancestor was almost destroyed, so they could only settle here temporarily. But then disaster struck."


    At this point, Xar walked slowly to a ckened wall and said, "The dragon died."


    "The dragon of the Dragonlord Aurion?" Rhaegar asked.


    "Yes, a fierce red dragon," Xar replied, looking pitiable. "It was like the scarlet dragon that the Dragonlord riding with you was riding, but it was even more massive."


    Upon hearing this, Rhaegar nodded slightly. The entire fleet was destroyed, and the only dragon was injured and fell. The Dragonlord of Aurionpletely lost the means to restore ancient Valyria, and even more so, the ability to leave the Smoking Sea. Without a doubt, he must have been trapped to death in Tyria.


    "But... your bodies..." Rhaegar paused, his voice barely audible.


    "You mean our deformities." Xar, whose hair had turned gray, was already numb to the question. He replied tly, "The Smoking Sea is a cursednd. Whether we marry outsiders or follow tradition to maintain our bloodline, the newborns will have problems��more or less."


    The entire poption of Tyria was less than a hundred. Most were born with deformities, either idiots or cripples. Even the newborns in recent years were monsters with scales and tails, dying soon after birth. It wouldn''t be long before Tyria became a dead city.


    Rhaegar''s brows knitted together, deepening his understanding of the Smoking Sea. ''No wonder there were no natives in the fertile Lands of the Long Summer. If there were, they must have been cut off from their bloodline.''


    "Therefore, Your Grace," Grey-haired Xar fell to his knees and pleaded, "for the sake of our shared dragon''s blood, please bring my people out of the Smoking Sea and save them from further degradation."


    Rhaegar''s expression did not change as he refused. "My ship cannot carry so many people."


    "Your Grace, I beg you to show mercy." Grey-haired Xar raised his cane and struck the charred ck Wall, earnestly saying, "You will receive the gift of friendship for ensuring the continuation of another ancient Valyrian bloodline."


    "Such as?" Rhaegar asked, tilting his head.


    "The Soul Restoring Orchid you need is cultivated in a secret chamber." Grey-haired Xar''s eyes were full of sincerity, his speech quickening. "There are also some relics left by our ancestors, which will definitely not disappoint you."


    "Oh, there''s a secret chamber?" Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as he looked at the nondescript, broken walls in the ruins.


    Boom! Xar made a simple gesture, and a gap cracked open under the charred ck wall, revealing an underground entrance.


    "Your Grace, all you have to do is enter, and you will get what you want."

 Chapter 600: The Horn Sounds, Dragons Dance

    Chapter 600: The Horn Sounds, Dragons Dance


    Grey-haired Xar looked sincere, as if he were ready to sacrifice everything. Rhaegar, amused, smiled. Despite the seemingly earnest expression, he sensed a hint of deception.


    "Your Grace, House Aurion was also married to House Targaryen. The forty Dragonlords are all one family," Xar said, his hoarse voice trying to evoke memories of ancient Valyria.


    "Haha," Rhaegar chuckled, then casually asked, "How long has the Thunderstrider been in Tyria?"


    "Thunderstrider?" Xar was taken aback, clearly not understanding.


    Rhaegar remained calm. "That is the young dragon with the dark blue scales. Daemon has already begun to capture it and has even named it in advance. It earned the name for its courage to travel through thunderstorms."


    Xar hesitated, hisposure faltering. "Your Grace, that is a wild dragon from outside, belonging to��"


    "Belonging to the Targaryens!" Rhaegar interrupted, leaving no room for argument. "That dragon hatched from Dreamfyre''s egg, and no one else can im it."


    Xar''s smile turned sheepish. "Yes, it belongs to the existing Dragonlords."


    It was clear during the conversation that Rhaegar had a specific objective and hadn''t arrived in Tyria by chance."Have you seen any dragons other than Thunderstrider?" Rhaegar asked, his eyes shing with curiosity.


    "No, absolutely not," Xar replied, waving his hands emphatically. "The Smoking Sea is simply not suitable for dragons. Even finding food is a challenge."


    "Are you sure?" Rhaegar''s face grew cold as he tossed a sea chart onto the ground.


    Xar picked up the map, and as he examined it, cold sweat began to run down his face. The map depicted a simple route leading to a ruin in the Smoking Sea, with a note from House Berys.


    A red line arced from that ruin to another��Tyria. The two ruins were not far apart, separated by the vast Smoking Sea. To the southy argendmass, marked with an undersea volcano and arge red cross.


    Rhaegar drew Truefyre from his waist and said coldly, "The Smoking Sea is vast, and a wild dragon roams freely. I don''t believe you haven''t seen it."


    The Lands of the Long Summer are shrouded in fog, an undiscoveredndmass until recently. Apart from barren inds, Tyria is the only ce to stay. The strange fish that fall with storms provide natural sustenance, and the young dragon Thunderstrider, after crossing the Smoking Sea, became active near Tyria. The former wild dragon of the Smoking Sea, Morghul, had survived there for decades and likely wandered around Tyria as well.


    "Your Grace, I am not lying," Xar stammered, panic evident in his voice. "Tyria has a harsh climate. During storms, we might hear the asional dragon roar, but no wild dragons appear."


    "You''re lying!" Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as he raised his sword to Xar''s neck. The cold Valyrian steel pressed against Xar''s throat, the dark de shing in the light.


    Xar froze, stammering, "Don''t kill me! There are relics of our ancestors in the crypts. You can take them all."


    "Your bloodline is loathed by the dragons," Rhaegar said confidently, boldly specting. "You tried to tame the dragons, but you were not recognized and were burned by Dragonfire."


    He nced around at the ruined Free City under the night sky. The scorched earth reeked of burning corpses, remnants of the Doom. The cracked, dried ground blended into the environment, while the buildings surrounding the pce were newly ruined, still covered in ash. Even after the rain, the lingering smell of sulfur hung in the air, a scent that Xar, with little contact with dragons, would struggle to distinguish.


    To Rhaegar, who had been riding dragons since childhood, the situation was as obvious as a girl standing naked before him. Xar, with his gray hair, stood frozen, sweating nervously. The silver-ck wild dragon had indeed appeared in Tyria. Itsir was just outside the Free Cities, but no one had ever been able to tame it. Anyone who dared approach was burned to ash. Years ago, the wild dragon had vanished without a trace, and everyone assumed it had perished somewhere in the Smoking Sea.


    "Your Grace..." Xar''s voice trembled, his eyes widening in fear.


    Pop! Truefyre pierced his throat, the ck de emerging from the back of his neck.


    "Ho ho~~" Xar gasped, blood spurting from his eyes as he clutched the wound, his cry hoarse with disbelief.


    Rhaegar''s expression remained calm as he whispered, "The descendants of a Dragonlord who seek to tame dragons can not be trusted."


    With that, he pulled Truefyre free, the de grating against bone as it slid out. Xar''s body, still warm, copsed with a thud into the wet, muddy ground. Rhaegar lifted the hem of his cloak and wiped the bloodstains from the de, then looked down at the hole in the ground. "They''ve been trying to lure me down there. What kind of danger lies hidden?"


    One thing was certain: the Soul Restoring Orchid truly existed. It was the special nt Xar had mentioned first. ''I still need to learn more,'' Rhaegar thought, not trusting the half-truths he''d been told. He silently raised his head.


    Hoo! The dark clouds above stirred, a fierce wind tearing through the pitch-ck sky, revealing a pair of glowing green eyes. The Cannibal pped its massive wings, slowly descending from the clouds.


    Boom! The ruined pce was obliterated, reduced to rubble beneath the dragon''s feet. Rhaegar raised his hand to shield his face from the flying debris.


    "Roar..." The Cannibal stretched its neck, sniffing cautiously at the underground entrance, letting out a low growl of warning.


    ...


    Ruins of the Free Cities.


    In the mountains to the west. The ground was barren, scorched earth, with mountains rising one after another, all devoid of vegetation. At the foot of a copsed, dormant volcano, Dragonfire red up from a nest.


    "Roar..." The young blue dragon floundered within its nest, its shiny scales scraping against the stone walls in an attempt to mitigate the damage caused by the dark green Dragonfire. Inside the shadowy nest, skeletal remains could be faintly seen, along with fossilized dragon eggs and various rare minerals in the corners.


    Caraxes, with its long, snake-like neck, hissed as it sniffed the scent of the young dragon. "Roar!" Caraxes leaped nimbly off the side of the volcano,nding with a thud in front of the nest at the mountain''s base.


    Daemon swayed slightly, his expression grave. "Catch it. Don''t hold back."


    "Roar!" A dark shadow streaked across the night sky, its red pupils scanning below to locate a familiar scent. Daemon nced at it but paid no attention. His nephew and the Sea Snake were preupied with the locals��one searching for the Soul Restoring Orchid to cure his brother, and the other trading supplies for the remnants found in the ruins. Daemon, however, had taken on the task of capturing the young dragon.


    ...


    The ruined pce.


    Tick-tock, tick-tock...


    Rhaegar descended the stairs and entered the silent underground chamber. The air was cold and damp, carrying a faint stench of decay.


    Hum...


    Truefyre burned fiercely in his hand, dispelling the darkness and casting flickering light across the stone walls. Rhaegar felt a slight dizziness but pressed on, carefully navigating the dripping, uneven floor.


    Click!


    Rhaegar misstepped, his foot striking a loose piece of masonry. In an instant, wallmps red to life, one after the other, casting a dim halo of light around the chamber.


    Boom!


    Before he could react, the trapdoor behind him mmed shut with a thunderous crash.


    "Roar..."


    Rhaegar spun around, hearing the distant growl of the Cannibal. But the entrance was sealed tight, and the mechanism hidden from view. He smiled faintly. ''Trying to trap me here to die, are you?'' he thought. No wonder Xar had been so eager to lure him into the underground pce��this was the n all along.


    But even if he was trapped, how did they expect Daemon and the Sea Snake to handle the situation? Did they truly believe the Cannibal would obey a group of masterless, bastard Dragonlords?


    "A ridiculous trick," Rhaegar muttered, shaking his head. He didn��t think much of this desperate ploy; he knew the other side understood that he wouldn��t let them escape. Their desperation had driven them to such futile measures.


    Now fully illuminated, the underground pce stretched out before him. His gaze was drawn to several halos of light in the center of the chamber, brightening the otherwise dark space. As he approached, his eyes widened.


    In the middle of the vast chamber, a deep pit had been dug. Insidey massive ck dragonbones, its size reminiscent of a small mountain range. Rhaegar moved closer, inspecting the remains. The dragonbones stretched sixty meters long��clearly a dragon in its prime.


    "It seems that Dragonlord Aurion was indeed a force to be reckoned with," Rhaegar mused, recognizing the significance of the find. A dragon of this size would have had the power to restore ancient Valyria, but tragically, its master had chosen the wrong path and perished as a result.


    The sight of the skeleton was sobering. One wing had been almostpletely crushed, the thickest vertebrae were snapped, and the dragon''s already menacing skull was riddled with cracks, its horn crown broken off. These injuries, by any ount, were fatal.


    "It��s hard to imagine what kind of monster could inflict such wounds," Rhaegar whispered, reaching out to touch the bones. A sense of awe filled him. Despite its grievous injuries, this red dragon had managed to bring Dragonlord Aurion to Tyria��a testament to its fierce nature. What a pity it had met such a fate.


    Unable to trigger the hidden mysteries he hoped for, Rhaegar reluctantly withdrew his hand. As he surveyed the area around the dragon skeleton, he noticed scattered remains��humanoid bones, fish bones... and several deformed dragon bones, resembling wingless, wless Firewyrms.


    In the rotting soil, amid these remains, several bright and beautiful orchids bloomed.


    "Soul Restoring Orchids!" Rhaegar eximed, jumping into the pit to quickly gather the precious nts. There were five of them, each carefully ced in a sandalwood box.


    Boom!


    Suddenly, the ground beneath him trembled. Rhaegar��s expression shifted as he swiftly rolled out of the pit. The soil churned violently, releasing a hot st of air.


    Boom!


    A crack tore through the floor of the underground pce, and a dazzling red glow shot out. Even from a distance, Rhaegar could see the bubbling undergroundva.


    "Is this part of the pce''s design?" he wondered aloud, recognizing the intricate traps woven into Tyria��s very core��a hallmark of the Free Cities Empire.


    ��Sssssss����


    A hissing sound echoed above theva as an ugly Firewyrm emerged, its thick, serpentine body slithering up from the molten depths. The creature, drawn to the heat, locked its gaze on Rhaegar, its murderous intent unmistakable.


    "Hisssss!" The Firewyrm''s mes, though not as hot as Dragonfire, were just as deadly. The smoke and corrosive fumes that apanied them were perfect for killing humans.


    Gulp~


    Rhaegar rolled to his feet, his gaze immediately drawn to the boiling undergroundva. Amidst the magma stood a circr altar made of ck Dragonstone, with a statue of a dragon on each side. His eyes locked onto a massive horn at the center of the altarpletely ck, iid with red rubies, and shimmering with a metallic luster. The surface was engraved with tiny, densely packed characters.


    "The Dragon''s Horn!" Rhaegar''s eyes widened, his throat dry and hoarse.


    "Sssss..." The Firewyrm thrust its grotesque head forward, roaring as it climbed toward him. Seeing that Rhaegar wasn''t moving, it spat another jet of me in his direction.


    Rhaegar nced sideways at the attack, rolling out of its path just in time. As he did, he mentally reached out to the Cannibal outside.


    "Sssss..." The Firewyrm, relentless, roared like a mad beast, its mouth wide open as it unleashed another burst of mes. This brainless creature seemed driven purely by instinct.


    "Firewyrms... they''re just like maggots in the gutter, utterly disgusting," Rhaegar muttered as he dodged the creature��s attacks, his eyes frequently darting toward the ancient horn on the altar. The undergroundva was rising steadily, nearly engulfing the Dragonstone altar. From the cracked rocks, more Firewyrms could be heard roaring in the distance.


    ''No wonder the Dragonhorn was never taken. It was guarded by a nest of Firewyrms,'' Rhaegar thought, clenching his teeth. The moment he saw the Dragonhorn, he understood the tragic fate of Dragonlord Aurion. The ancient Dragonlord must have known about the Dragonhorn in Tyria and sought to im it, only to meet a terrible end, dooming his descendants.


    "The Dragonhorn is mine!" Rhaegar''s eyes shed with murderous intent as he plotted how to im the treasure.


    "Sssss..." The Firewyrm lunged at him, spitting out a glob of slime from its segmented mouthparts, aiming to swallow him whole. Rhaegar, quick on his feet, retreated from the edge of the pit, narrowly avoiding the creature''s attack. As he jumped, he caught sight of the dragon''s corpse, tilting precariously over the edge of the pit.


    "That''s it!" Rhaegar''s eyes lit up. He scrambled onto the Dragonbone, quickly cutting a length of the saddle rope, and wrapped it around his arm. Without hesitation, he leaped.


    "Sssss.."


    Rhaegar''s eyes snapped open as the sound of the Firewyrm''s hiss filled the air. He tore off the space ne around his neck, quickly wrapping it around his left wrist. With a wave of his hand, he moved within a foot of the dragon horn.


    Hum��


    His spirit surged from him, locking onto the dragon horn��thick as two men''s arms��and instantly transporting it into his bag.


    "Sizzling..."


    Just as he secured the horn, a Firewyrm lunged from the side, its maw wide open, ready to bite. Rhaegar''s face contorted in shock, his mind going nk for a split second.


    Instinct took over. The spear with a Valyrian steel tip, "Dawn," materialized in his left hand, and he thrust it into the Firewyrm''s mouth, its saliva hissing on the weapon''s surface.


    "Get out of my way!" Rhaegar roared, pouring all his strength into the attack.


    Pop!


    The spear pierced through the Firewyrm''s upper jaw, the cold, gleaming tip breaking through its scaly hide. Rhaegar released the spear, using its momentum to swing upwards, gripping the spearhead and yanking it out in a sharp, fluid motion.


    Sizzling��


    Hot blood sprayed as the ckfyre-imbued spear drove through the Firewyrm''s head. The creature died instantly, its lifeless body plummeting into theva below.


    Before Rhaegar could catch his breath, the remaining Firewyrms in the underground pce attacked again, their numbers overwhelming. It was a close call.


    "Roar!"


    The entire underground pce shook violently as green mes melted the stone ceiling. A ck dragon''s w tore through the ceiling, crashing down.


    Pop!


    One of the Firewyrms, unable to dodge in time, was crushed to a pulp by the dragon''s mighty w. The pce continued to tremble, the roaring growing more deafening as the structure began to copse.


    Roar!


    The hideous head of the Cannibal smashed through the underground pce, its glowing green pupils locking onto Rhaegar. With a powerful bite, it mped onto the dragon''s backbone, lifting the saddle high into the air.


    Rhaegar clutched the reins, the Cannibal soaring into the sky like a kite caught in a fierce wind.


    Rumble!


    The underground pce copsedpletely, the ck dragon''s head rising from the rubble, scattering dust and debris. It shook its massive neck, and the saddle in its jaws shifted, allowing Rhaegar tond on the t expanse of the dragon''s back, his body shielded by his "Bronze" rune scales.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal roared triumphantly into the sky, carrying its rider higher and higher, leaving the destruction of the underground pce far below.

 Chapter 601: Cannibal’s Life Mark

    Chapter 601: Cannibal��s Life Mark


    Sleeping volcano.


    "Roar!"


    The sound of the furious neighing echoed for miles, reverberating endlessly across thendscape.


    At the base of the low volcano, two dragon shadows��one ck, one blue��shed fiercely.


    "Roar..."


    The blue Thunderstrider''s pupils narrowed in tension as its ws tore into its opponent''s chest, spilling hot dragon blood.


    Crack!


    Iragaxys, twice the size of its sibling, loomed over it, pinning it down with its ferocious snout locked around Thunderstrider''s throat.


    "Roar!"Thunderstrider screamed in pain, struggling more violently as it spewed blue Dragonfire in all directions. But its aim was wild and unfocused.


    The two young dragons, locked in a deadly embrace, plummeted from the sky to the scorched earth below, biting and tearing at each other like frenzied loaches.


    Scales scraped across the dry ground, and Dragonfire scorched the already parched soil.


    A long, sharp roar filled the air.


    If the young ck dragon could defeat the wild Thunderstrider, then Caraxes wouldn��t have to worry about being too harsh.


    Time passed slowly.


    ...


    The night gradually faded as the first rays of light appeared in the east.


    Daemon raised his hand to block the light and noticed that the dragon fight below was nearing its end.


    The young ck dragon, with its superior size and ferocious nature, had pinned the wild Thunderstrider''s neck.


    "Roar..."


    Thunderstrider, though resilient, fought back desperately, but its defiance only fueled Iragaxys��s ferocity.


    Iragaxys had initially sought only to defeat its sibling, as it would any other dragon. Now, its pupils narrowed to slits, and blood trickled down its snout.


    "Get ready, Caraxes," Daemon ordered, his voice dripping with contempt.


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes''s throat trembled as itsrge wings mped down on the rocky terrain, allowing it to leap nimbly over the steep cliffs.


    Below, the two young dragons were still locked in their fierce battle, their cries of anguish echoing through the air.


    Daemon raised one arm, prepared to give the finalmand.


    Suddenly, a gentle breeze brushed his face.


    The rays of the rising sun pierced through theyers of mist, stinging the eyes of both man and dragon.


    Then, the ancient, heavy sound of a horn red, like thunder breaking through the darkness, shaking the lonely world.


    "Roar!?"


    Caraxes was the first to react, its pupils dting as it stared into the distance.


    Daemon, startled, turned his gaze toward the ruined Free Cities.


    Roar!


    The horn''s sound continued in waves, ovepping rhythmically like a powerful surge.


    Daemon��s eyes widened as a towering volcano came into view, a sentinel that had withstood the wind and rain for countless years.


    Rugged, majestic, unmovable...


    A flood of adjectives filled his mind,posing an ancient melody.


    "Roar!"


    Iragaxys suddenly looked up, abandoning its frenzied attack.


    "Roar..."


    Thunderstrider��s voice was weak as it broke free from its sibling��s crushing grip, slowly rising into the air on battered wings.


    The two young dragons flew away, one after the other, kicking up gusts of wind as they ascended.


    Daemon��s silver hair fluttered in the breeze, his face etched with concentration. "This horn sound..." he murmured.


    ...


    "Roar!"


    A ck dragon shot straight up into the sky, its deep, powerful roar resonating through the misty air, spreading a pure,manding sound across the heavens.


    Whoo-hoo-hoo!


    Rhaegar straddled the dragon''s back, gripping an ancient horn in one hand, and blew with all his might.


    In an instant, his pores opened wide.


    Bang! Bang! Bang!


    His heart pounded forcefully, pumping hot blood through every vein in his body. Rhaegar''s eyes were closed, fully immersed in the moment.


    Hum��


    The Dragonborn state manifested, with horns and dark scales appearing on his forehead, while wisps of pure ck mes spread from his chest.


    ��Sigh-ga...��


    Cannibal''s green pupils gleamed with defiance as it shot toward the hazy sun, its body straight as a de.


    Rhaegar was oblivious, letting the sunlight bathe his face, setting off his silver-blond hair like a shimmering curtain.


    Whoo-hoo-hoo...


    The rhythmically yed horn sent waves of sound rippling through the air.


    ��Roar...��


    "Roar!"


    "..."


    The roars of several dragons echoed in response, each in a different tone.


    Poof!


    A massive, scarlet beast with the length of a serpent crashed through the mist-shrouded western mountains, its head raised high and menacing. Daemon, perched on its back, looked small and insignificant byparison.


    Roar!


    Iragaxys and Thunderstrider appeared next, intertwining and spinning like swallows in flight.


    Whoo-hoo-hoo~


    Before he knew it, dragon-shaped inscriptions appeared on the huge ck surface of the horn. They glittered like stars, circling around Rhaegar.


    There were no fewer than hundreds of them.


    "Roar... Roar..."


    Rhaegar felt as though he could hear the dragons'' roars, even in his trance.


    Pop~~


    In an instant, the hundreds of dragon-shaped inscriptions vanished, disappearing like a sh in the pan.


    Rhaegar frowned slightly, reluctant to let them go.


    [This exploration mission is now open. The target is the Dragonhorn.]


    A system prompt suddenly announced the start of an explorer mission. Rhaegar''s frown eased, the roaring of dragons fading from his ears, and his eyshes fluttered open.


    [Rhaegar Targaryen]


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold)


    Bloodline: Dragonborn (+63%)


    Runes: Bronze (Green), Serpent (Blue), Dream Eater (Purple)


    Blood Magic: Binding Spell (Blue), Dragon Dance(Purple)...


    Relics: Blood and Fire, Dreamscape, Pure Water


    Special Items: Space Ne, Dragonhorn (Unimed)


    Comment: "Ancient Dragonlord bloodline, reiming the noble power."


    The system panel had been significantly altered.


    The numbers in the bloodline column were jumping wildly, showing rapid refinement of his bloodline. Additionally, a new column for "special items" appeared��something that had never happened before, even with the acquisition of the space bracelet, Valyria steel sword, or dragon taming whip.


    Rhaegar was momentarily dazed as exploration information popted the panel.


    [Dragonhorn]


    Exploration progress: 10.6% (Special Status)


    The progress increased rapidly, as though fueled by adrenaline. Rhaegar gradually regained his senses, the warmth of the Dragonhorn returning to his lips.


    "Dragonhorn... still without a master?"


    Rhaegar felt a chill run down his spine as he gripped the horn, feeling the heat of ckfyre coursing through his body.


    Whoo-hoo-hoo!


    With a sense of relief, Rhaegar yed the "Dragon Dance."


    Caraxes was almost frantic, its body growing rapidly as it swayed and spewed Dragonfire.


    "Quiet, Caraxes!" Daemon shouted, jostled on the dragon''s back as he struggled to control the beast beneath him.


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes soared and dove, plunging into the raging Dragonfire as if celebrating a baptism of fury.


    Then, the two young dragonsunched their attack.


    "Roar!"


    "Roar..."


    Each over ten meters long, the dragons opened and closed their wings, their ck and blue Dragonfire coloring the sky with their uncontroble desire to fight.


    Rhaegar knew nothing of this.


    ...


    The Free Cities.


    A new day dawned, and soldiers surged from the crumbling walls.


    "Hurry up! Surround the area!" The Sea Snake, d in armor and armed with a sword, barked orders. His face was a terrifyingly dark shade of blue.


    Last night, the ck dragon went mad. When they sent someone to investigate, they found the ruined pce had copsed into a sea of mes, and the king was nowhere to be found.


    Orderly footsteps echoed all around as thousands of sailors climbed the city walls, setting up crossbows andying traps. However...


    "Roar!" A thunderous, muffled roar split the air. The sun was swallowed by darkness, and the temperature plummeted.


    The Sea Snake immediately looked up, nearly dropping his sword.


    Roar! The ck dragon soared into the sky, then plunged down like a meteor, its wings spreading like a dark curtain. On its back sat a silver-haired figure.


    Woo-hoo! Rhaegar, covered in mes, blew a massive horn that was two meters long. The dragon-shaped inscription on the horn''s surface vanished, and the tiny letters encircling it glowed with an eerie light.


    "The Dragonhorn, held by a Dragonlord..." Rhaegar murmured, sensing its power.


    A trickle of blood flowed from his lips, staining the tiny letters and seeping into every inch of the ck horn.


    Hum�� Rhaegar''s purple eyes gleamed as he suddenly understood. Hemunicated with the dragon beneath him, forging a unique bond.


    Roar! The Cannibal and its rider were in perfect sync. As the Cannibal swooped down, the curved gray horn pierced a scale on Rhaegar''s side. The ck scales shattered, and bright red dragon blood flowed out.


    With a casual wave of his hand, Rhaegar caused a drop of dragon blood to float over, merging it with the Dragon Horn.


    Roar! A loud dragon roar echoed, not from the Cannibal, but alone in Rhaegar''s ears. A trace of ck fire spread through the Dragon Horn, and tiny characters and red rubies formed a halo, condensing into a dragon-shaped inscription carved by a sword or axe. It waspletely ck, like charcoal, resembling the Cannibal.


    Suddenly, the Dragon Horn shed with a dark light.


    [This exploration isplete. Please pick up the lost treasure], an ethereal voice announced as Rhaegar lifted his gaze to the system panel.


    [Dragon Horn] Exploration Progress: 100% (Completed)


    ''Special Status, is that a designation?'' Rhaegar wondered, poking at a red halo the size of a watermelon beside his feet.


    Pop!


    The bubble-like halo exploded, transforming into a small cluster of bright light that rushed into his forehead.


    [Relic sessfully picked up, testing...]


    [Testing sessful. Determined to be a legendary relic, passed down through generations.]


    The voice prompt echoed as a red dragon scale, named "Passing on the Torch," appeared in Rhaegar''s mind. The dragon scale was the size of a palm, rough and scratched.


    Rhaegar pondered for a moment and checked the small reminder that activated the relic.


    "Special relics, only for special bloodlines," it stated, emphasizing the unique importance of the Dragon Horn.


    ''Special Bloodline? What kind of bloodline?'' Rhaegar thought, stunned, as his body followed the Cannibal''s dive, cutting through the wind.


    Hum��


    Though still contemting his doubts, his body became enveloped in ck fire, with faint signs of a dragon taking shape. The red dragon scales trembled slightly before shattering into dust.


    Suddenly, the system prompt sounded:


    [Congrattions, the legacy has been activated, and you have obtained... Blood Dance.]


    Level: Epic (Purple)


    Function: Awaken the ferocity of the dragon andplete a Blood Dance and fire.


    Comment: "The Dragon Dance and the Dance of the Blood are the two core blood magic skills of the Dragonborn. They are the key to controlling dragons."


    Rhaegar''s eyes widened as he realized that both dragon control songs belonged to the Dragonborn. Subconsciously, the tune he was ying shifted to the "Blood Dance."


    Woo-woo-woo-woo~


    Rhaegar''s heart trembled as the ck fire within him suddenly contracted, leaving his body to wrap itself around the Dragon Horn.


    "Roar!" The Cannibal''s green pupils narrowed as it dove with unstoppable force, spitting out terrifying Dragonfire.


    "Roar!" Dragonfire rained down from the sky, further devastating the already ruined Free Cities.


    "Roar... Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes was the first to follow, circling low over the Free Cities like a serpent, unleashing a continuous stream of dragonfire.


    The two young dragons nked the city, one on the left, the other on the right. As dragons howled in agony, ck and blue Dragonfire rose in session.


    For a time, the dragons danced together, united by the shared origin of blood and fire.

 Chapter 602: Even Distribution of Spoils

    Chapter 602: Even Distribution of Spoils


    "Roar!" A ck dragon steps onto the cliff by the sea, spreading its wings and soaring into the sky.


    Out on the sea, a fleet bearing the g of House Vryon sets sail. Behind them, the ruins of the Free Cities of Tyria are shrouded in smoke, which billows up towards the sky. In the distance, the mournful wails of ghosts echo through the air.


    Drizzle...


    A heavy rain begins to fall, washing away the tainted dragon blood that should have died long ago.


    ...


    The next day...


    The Smoking Sea. A dense fog obscured the horizon.


    "Roar..."


    On the deck of the long Sea Snake, a young dragon with dark blue scales curled into a ball."It''s okay," Rhaegar murmured, gently stroking its scales. "Good boy! Poor little thing."


    "Roar..."


    Thunderstrider blinked and approached its dragon''s snout, rubbing against it with a pitiful whine.


    The young dragon, over ten meters long, bore deep w marks across its chest and lower abdomen, each wound tearing through its scales. The worst injury was on the side of its neck, where blood flowed uncontrobly. These were the scars of a fierce battle with another young dragon.


    "They''re young, but they all have quite the temper," Rhaegar remarked, winding a Rune Serpent around his finger as he nced up at the sky. Above the fog, a ck dragon''s shadow loomed over the fleet like a massive, ominous umbre.


    "Roar!"


    A ck young dragon flew beneath, yfully weaving around the masts of the fleet. After the violent sh, the dragons had finally calmed down.


    "Cough, cough..."


    A salty sea breeze blew through, causing Rhaegar to cough a few times. Thunderstrider twisted its head, its pupils shing with confusion.


    "Your Grace!"


    The Sea Snake''s voice came from behind, apanied by arge group of people. Rhaegar pursed his lips and asked, "Is everything ready?" He turned, revealing the face beneath his hood.


    The Sea Snake, who had been full of energy, now seemed deted, like a firecracker that had fizzled out. He saw the young king standing tall, with long, silver-gold hair cascading naturally down his back and deep, intelligent purple eyes. However, Rhaegar''s skin was pale as paper, and his cheeks were slightly gaunt. Standing in the sea breeze, draped in a ck robe, he exuded a sense of fragility, as if a gust of wind might topple him.


    The Sea Snake swallowed nervously. "Your Grace, are you all right?" he asked. Since yesterday, the king''s radiant beauty had noticeably faded.


    Rhaegar touched his cheek and replied with a bold yet careful smile, "It''s nothing, just a harmless aftereffect."


    "Harmless?"


    The Sea Snake was dumbfounded, wondering what kind of pain the king was enduring. In just one night, he had lost so much weight. Rhaegar only smiled, offering no further exnation.


    He opened the system panel:


    [Rhaegar Targaryen]


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold)


    Bloodline: Dragonborn (+67%)


    Runes: Bronze (Green), Serpent (Blue), Dream Eater (Purple)


    Blood Magic: Binding Spell (Blue), Dragon Dance (Purple), Blood Dance (Purple)...


    Relics: Blood and Fire, Dreamscape, Pure Water...


    Special items: Space Ne, Dragonhorn (Special)


    Comment: "A rare descendant of true dragons, still needs time to grow into his power."


    First, in the bloodline column, the bloodline was rapidly purifying. Rhaegar''s eyes shed as a cluster of dark mes flickered in the depths of his pupils. This refinement had gradually allowed him to master the state of Dragonborn and better control his mes.


    Secondly, the Dragonhorn had now recognized its master. When blown, it summoned dragons. But that was not its only power. Through the "Dragon Dance" and "Dance of Blood," it could also calm and inspire the dragons'' fighting spirit, enabling them to unleash their full strength on the battlefield.


    Rhaegar wiped the space ne around his neck, where the exquisite giant horn was ced. Its surface, glistening with a metallic sheen, bore three dragon-shaped inscriptions of varying sizes. One waspletely ck, the mark of the Cannibal. The other two were ck and blue, representing Iragaxys and Thunderstrider. When dragon blood dripped into the horn, it left an imprint inside, enablingmunication regardless of distance. The message was transmitted when the horn was imed by its owner.


    The top Dragonlord families would imprint the marks of their dragons on these horns. This practice was not only convenient for recalling distantpanions but also crucial for controlling the house''s dragons, preventing them from being stolen or hunted.


    Rhaegar had used dragon blood to subdue the Dragonhorn and yed theplete "Dance of Blood," incorporating the three dragons'' birthmarks in session. This process had taken a toll on him, leaving him visibly exhausted.


    ''Without guidance, it''s like walking on thin ice,'' Rhaegar thought to himself with a sigh, but there was nothing he could do.


    "Your Grace, please take a look."


    Noticing the king''s silence, the Sea Snake gestured to the sailors, who promptly brought over severalrge boxes. As the boxes were opened one after another, they revealed mostly old antiques. The Sea Snake carefully lifted a model of a sailing ship from within, his eyes alight with excitement. "This is a model of a ship from ancient Valyria. It''s said that the sails were woven with magic, allowing them to withstand the strongest winds and waves."


    "If you like it, you can keep it," Rhaegar said with a dismissive wave of his hand.


    The model did indeed contain a faint trace of magic, but replicating such craftsmanship would be nearly impossible. Besides, the Targaryensmanded both the skies and the earth, and they had little use for the seas. Ancient Valyria had produced many ships and boasted countless magicians, yet none had ever conquered a continent with them.


    "Thank you very much, Your Grace!"


    The Sea Snake, who rarely smiled, tucked the model ship away as if it were a priceless treasure. While the Dragonlords might not value ships, House Vryon, with its blood tied to salt and sea, coveted them dearly.


    "Next," Rhaegar whispered.


    No matter how impressive the ships were, the fleet would always remain a vassal of the Targaryens. Now that he possessed the Dragonhorn, any internal family threats had been neutralized, and he no longer feared that a marriage to a vassal would make them too powerful. Instead, he worried they might not be strong enough to keep pace.


    Reinvigorated, the Sea Snake ordered another item to be brought forward��a half-round shield, ck as ink and difficult to discern. Rhaegar''s sharp eyes recognized it immediately. "A shield of Valyrian steel."


    "That''s right," the Sea Snake confirmed, holding up the shield and tapping its concave surface. "It''s a shame to see such a treasure in the hands of deformed dragonlords descendants."


    Tyria was a deste city, its people once well-equipped but now worn down by the passage of time. Like this half-shield, much of their former glory had faded.


    Rhaegar nced at the shield. It was norger than a washbasin and contained only a small amount of steel. He reached out to touch it, but it didn''t trigger any reaction.


    The Sea Snake took a step back and opened a sturdy wooden chest.


    ng!


    The lid hit the deck, revealing a dozen fossilized dragon eggs and various precious ores. But what truly caught Rhaegar''s eye was a curved longsword.


    "Dragonw!" Rhaegar eximed, his voice tinged with surprise and delight.


    The Dragonw was just as Rhaegar remembered it, with its rippling de, Dragonbone handle, and serrated edge. However, the sword was now bent in the middle, as if it had been violently gripped. The cold steel was marred by nicks, dust, and cobwebs, yet despite its wear, it remained as sharp as ever.


    "My old friend," Rhaegar murmured, a smile of genuine happiness crossing his face as he gripped the familiar, warm Dragonbone hilt once again.


    "Daemon found all of this in a dragon''s nest," the Sea Snake revealed, not withholding anything. He then pulled a ss bottle from his coat. "And this��Daemon also instructed me to give it to you."


    Rhaegar, still lost in the joy of rediscovering the Dragonw, nced at the ss bottle. Inside was a small amount of blood, warm to the touch and unmistakably dragon blood.


    "He��s really something," Rhaegar chuckled, shaking his head as he gazed toward the scarlet dragon shadow looming in front of the fleet. The contents of the bottle were the blood of Caraxes. Daemon''s intention was clear: he wanted the Blood Wyrm''s mark to be imprinted on the Dragonhorn��a gesture symbolizing loyalty or a return to the family fold.


    "Who says that good uncles don''t have hearts?" Rhaegar remarked with a smile as he carefully stowed away the dragon blood, nning to wait until the aftereffects had subsided before using it.


    The dragon''s imprint on the Dragonhorn was not a ve mark. It served as a means ofmunication and an aid in moments of extreme emotional turmoil. However, it did not grant absolute control over the dragon. In ancient Valyria, the rtionship between dragons and their riders was understood as follows:


    The bond between the rider and the dragon was stronger than the Dragonhorn''s call. The call, in turn, was stronger than the "Dance of the Dragon" and "Dance of the Blood"mands used in battle. This hierarchy maintained the status of the dragon rider. Anyone who believed they could control a dragon solely through a magical item was a fool.


    Besides, who but a true Dragonborn could blow the Dragonhorn? If your bloodline isn��t pure enough, you would perish at the mere touch of fire.

 Chapter 603: I’m Going to Complain!

    Chapter 603: I��m Going to Comin!


    Two monthster.


    It is October, and the climate on both sides of the Narrow Sea remains warm.


    In Lys, at the harbor...


    Arge fleet sails in, its dozen warships all bearing signs of damage, as if they had weathered a fierce storm at sea.


    "Roar..."


    The pitch-ck wings of a dragon swept over the Free Cities, sending countless residents into a panic.


    ...


    Topless Dragonpit.


    The Cannibal folded its wings andnded with a loud crash, kicking up a cloud of dust. Several Dragonkeepers hurried over, holding bamboo sticks, trying to drive the dragon back to itsir."Roar..."


    Cannibal paid no heed, shaking off the meddling, foolish humans and finding a corner to lie down in the pit.


    "Don''t worry about it, and don''t bother entering the Dragonpit in the future," Rhaegar said, his expression indifferent, dispelling the Dragonkeepers'' doubts. After a long sleep in the Lands of the Long Summer, the Cannibal''s appetite had grown insatiable, and it had quickly reached nearly 170 meters in length. The bond between the man and the dragon was strong, and they both sensed the trend of continued growth.


    Bang! Bang!


    Cannibal snorted heavily, swung its tail, and patted the ground contentedly. The dark and cramped Dragonpit could no longer contain it.


    "Wee back, Your Grace," one of the Dragonkeepers said, his eyes sharp as he sensed the giant beast''s resistance. He respectfully stepped aside.


    Rhaegar waved his hand, looking at the people who hade to greet him.


    "Father!"


    Aemon''s face lit up with excitement as he cheered and rushed toward him. Rhaegar''s eyes twinkled as he bent down to pick up his spirited second son. He asked seriously, "Have you been listening to your mother and finishing your lessons on time?"


    "Of course," Aemon replied, tilting his head and patting his chest confidently. He was the cleverest of the siblings.


    "Your Grace, wee back," Ba said, more mature now, offering a graceful bow.


    Rhaena followed her sister''s lead, adding with a wry smile, "Your Grace."


    "All is well. Go see your father and grandfather," Rhaegar said with a smile, his eyes now fixed on the approaching figure.


    Rhaenyra''s eyes were red with emotion as she walked up to him, restraining the urge to embrace him. Her hands twitched helplessly. They had been apart for half a year, and every night she had struggled to sleep on her lonely pillow. Her thoughts had often spiraled out of control, but she had been uncertain of his feelings. A thorn had lodged itself in her heart.


    "I''m home," Rhaegar said, his voice soft yet powerful, as if he could read her very thoughts.


    At these simple words, Rhaenyra could no longer hold back. Tears streamed down her face. "Rhaegar, I''ve missed you so much," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. Without hesitation, she threw herself into his arms like a young bird returning to its nest.


    Rhaegar gently released Aemon, who had been clinging to him, and opened his arms wide to embrace her. They held each other tightly, savoring the warmth of their reunion.


    "I''ve missed you too," Rhaegar whispered, a smile ying on his lips as he relished the moment.


    Plop!


    Aemon fell to the ground with a thud, his face scrunched up in pain. Watching his parents reunite, he pouted in frustration.


    Ba grabbed his ear, pulling him along without ceremony. "Ugliest sight in the world. Let''s go," she muttered.


    Aemon, too aggrieved to protest, followed silently as the younger children began to wander off, eager to find the Blood Wyrm heading toward the beach.


    ...


    Midday.


    The sun shone brightly in a clear sky.


    At the Topless Tower, in the warm greenhouse...


    "Here''s your whip back." Rhaenyra''s gaze never left his as she traced her fingertips along his neck, pulling out the dragon-taming whip.


    "You can keep it," Rhaegar replied, shaking his head with a hint of pride. ''I have something better,'' he thought. He had managed to retrieve a dragon''s horn from the Smoking Sea, enduring countless hardships along the way. Though the return journey had been rtively calm, they had faced numerous storms and attacks.


    "You keep it. I can''t use it." Rhaenyra refused to ept his decision, pressing the whip back into his arms. "You can''t wield a dragon''s horn lightly. This is more practical."


    As she spoke, she gazed at his gaunt face, pale as paper, and wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye. Rhaegar''s lips tightened slightly as hey on his side on the flower bed, resting his head on her soft, bouncy thighs.


    The journey hadsted half a year, with three of those months spent alone in the Smoking Sea. The oppressive atmosphere had driven nearly everyone mad. Rhaenyra''s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she gently touched Rhaegar''s cheek, afraid that he might slip away if she wasn��t careful. Even in her worry, her beauty was undeniable.


    Rhaegar had dressed to wee her back, and after their return to the Topless Tower, she had changed into her usual attire��a ck strapless dress, a Valyrian steel ne adorning her neck, and her silver hair braided into an intricate it. As she sat in the conservatory, bathed in the morning sun, her white toes rested on the ss floor. The intimacy of the moment gradually calmed her heart.


    "You''ve worked hard," Rhaegar murmured, his face buried against her t stomach, his voice muffled. The vast Seven Kingdoms and both sides of the Narrow Sea were not easy to govern. Many plotted in secret against the royal family, hoping to weaken its power.


    As these words left his lips, Rhaenyra''s toes curled, and she lowered her head in shame. Rhaegar sensed something amiss and asked without looking up, "What''s wrong?"


    Rhaenyra bit her lower lip nervously. "Braavos... and Dorne..." she began, exining the major events that had unfolded over the past six months. Her beautiful eyes held a steely determination.


    Rhaegar listened intently, wrapping his arms around her slender waist and taking a deep breath. The situation was better than expected��the sky hadn''t fallen.


    There had been two wars.


    Braavos had allied with Pentos, shing with the fleets of Vryon and Gulltown in the Narrow Sea. Sheepstealer and Tessarion had gone into battle and achieved significant victories. A month ago, when word came that Rhaegar had safely emerged from the Smoking Sea, Braavos had been the first to withdraw its troops, and Pentos quickly followed, raising the white g.


    The situation in Dorne, however, was more challenging. The Steward of Dorne had been assassinated, and the young Prince Qyle nearly taken hostage. Fortunately, the situation had been stabilized. Yet, a resistance group, calling themselves the "Orphans of the Greenblood River," had risen in rebellion. After failing to capture Sunspear, they retreated into the desert, disappearing from sight. From time to time, they would raid minor noble families, causing chaos throughout Dorne.


    Rhaegar rubbed his cheek and whispered, "Don''t worry about it. Let them y their games." Braavos and Pentos were too established to risk another war. Dorne had always been a rebellious region, and divided opinions about the Iron Throne were nothing new. A few years of internal unrest would likely shift Dorne''s focus inward, weakening its hostility towards the outside world. The Targaryens would only grow stronger.


    And as for Dorne, how long could its barrennds sustain such defiance?


    "I''m afraid I haven''t done enough," Rhaenyra sniffed, her voice muffled with emotion. "They bully me when you''re not here," she added.


    Rhaegar was taken aback by her words, his head snapping up in surprise. The tone of her grievance struck him hard��who dared to trouble her?


    "Who?" Rhaegar asked bluntly, his voice tinged with anger.


    Rhaenyra hesitated, her gaze dropping in shame as she shook her head vigorously.


    "You have to tell me," Rhaegar insisted, his brow furrowing deeply. He made a convincing show of his rising annoyance. "I need to know so I can stand up for you."


    Knock, knock, knock!


    Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by Laena''s voice: "There is a letter from King''s Landing that requires Your Grace''s attention."


    Rhaenyra, on the verge of voicing her grievances, held back at the sound of Laena''s voice. "Come in," she said, her tone subdued.


    Creak, creak��


    Laena pushed the door open, her boots ttering against the ss floor. She nced at Rhaenyra, then at Rhaegar, before calmly handing over the letter. "The Regent''s letter, please take a look."


    Rhaenyra blinked and took the envelope, opening it with a frown.


    "Regent?" Rhaegar''s voice bristled with anger. He wasn''t deaf or blind��he knew something was wrong. "Which Regent?"


    Laena''s mouth curled into a slight smile as she replied, "Of course, it''s the Prince Regent, Aemond."


    Rhaegar''s vision darkened, and he nearly lost his breath in fury. No wonder Rhaenyra seemed so troubled. It seemed some people had a death wish after all.


    Laena continued, "After Aemond burned the Braavosi and Pentoshi fleets, he volunteered to take on the role of Regent and negotiate on behalf of the Iron Throne with the two Free Cities."


    "Who gave him that authority?" Rhaegar asked, incredulous. He turned sharply to Rhaenyra, his eyes questioning.


    Rhaenyra met his gaze squarely and replied, "No one. He appointed himself."


    "That bastard," Rhaegar muttered, his back mrs grinding in frustration. "I''ll deal with him when I get back." Then he added, "What does the letter say?"


    He braced himself for anything��a wayward brother who couldn''t be bothered to follow orders was the least of his concerns.


    Rhaenyra, feeling lighter after venting, handed the letter to Laena. "Read it for me," she said, her voice calmer.


    Laena rolled her eyes butplied, reading the letter aloud. Her actions didn��t go unnoticed by Rhaegar, who watched with slight surprise. He nced up and down at Laena, noting how much better she looked since they had set out. Even in her loose-fitting white dress, with her pregnancy showing, she couldn''t hide her capable andmanding presence.


    Ignoring his scrutiny, Laena continued reading the letter.


    Daemon had returned and captured a strong, beautiful young blue dragon. The couple had decided that the dragon would belong to the unborn child Laena was carrying.


    "Civil unrest in Qohor... Bartimos was seriously injured in an assassination attempt... rescued..." Laena''s voice grew more somber as she read on.


    Rhaegar''s expression darkened by the time she finished. "That fool Bartimos had to push through policies that wasted manpower and harmed the people!" he spat. Otto and Bartimos had ruled Qohor together, but Bartimos had forced the people to repair the city walls, raised taxes, and imposed a city gate tax, sparking riots. The Dothraki cavalry, ill-suited for street fighting, had withdrawn from the Free Cities, camping in the forests outside the city. Qohor had fallen in a single night, and Bartimos, the instigator, had barely escaped with his life.


    Aemond had already returned to Qohor, sending word for Rhaenyra to return to King''s Landing and allocate supplies for support.


    "What nerve," Rhaenyra muttered, seething with anger. ''Does he really think he''s Regent and can order me around?'' Aemond was utterly disrespectful, disregarding her authority.


    "The focus should be on Qohor," Laena interjected quietly.


    Rhaenyra��s almond-shaped eyes widened in fury, and she let out a bitterugh. "Do you really think those rabble can stop Sheepstealer?"


    Given Aemond''s vindictive nature, she feared the riots would be more of a massacre than a rebellion.


    Laena nodded in agreement, realizing she had no argument.


    Rhaenyra turned to Rhaegar, gently squeezing his face. "What do you think?"


    "You don��t sound like you��re looking for a solution," Rhaegar said with a sigh, taking her small, jade-like hand in his. "I��ll return to King''s Landing tomorrow, visit my father first, and then deal with Qohor."


    "You promise?" Rhaenyra asked, pressing her finger against his cheek.


    "I promise," Rhaegar replied, raising his hands in surrender. Closing his eyes, he leaned back into his previous position. After half a year of constant turmoil, he deserved a moment to rx.

 Chapter 604: Too Bitter

    Chapter 604: Too Bitter


    The Next Morning, Dragonstone.


    A dragon as ck as coal soared down The Gullet,nding at the end of the stone steps and the Long Bridge with a resounding thud.


    Bang!


    Rhaegar slid off the dragon''s back, feeling a bit unsteady on his feet. It wasn''t just the lingering effects of recklessly using the Dragon''s Horn; Rhaenyra was partly to me as well.


    "Yawn..." Rhaegar muttered, dark circles under his eyes. With a sigh, he added, "Dragons are getting more and more difficult to deal with." He hadn''t slept all night and had to rise early to return to Dragonstone. ''If this keeps up, I won''t live to be a hundred years old,'' he thought.


    ��Roar!��


    A dragon''s roar echoed through the air as a scarlet dragon shot out of the clouds like lightning. Meleys, wary of the <em>Dragoneater</em>, gathered its wings andnded at a distance.


    ��Rhaegar, it really is you!�� Rhaenys eximed in surprise as she dismounted from the dragon''s back.


    ��Roar...�� Meleys growled, lowering itself into abat stance.Rhaenys froze for a moment before noticing the dark dragon gazing at them from afar. The Cannibal was already special, but this one wasrger than Vhagar, the oldest and biggest she had ever seen.


    On closer inspection, it seemed even bigger. It stood at the end of the Long Bridge of Stone Steps, almost as tall as the Stone Drum Tower, Meleys, on the opposite side, wasn''t even half as tall as its opponent.


    While Rhaenys was lost in thought, Rhaegar approached her and greeted her. "I''m back, Aunt."


    ��Good to have you back,�� Rhaenys replied, her eyes still fixed on the dragon. ��Your dragon has grown so much.��


    ''Could there still be wild dragons in the Smoking Sea that encountered the Cannibal''s poisonous maw?'' she wondered.


    Rhaegar chuckled lightly. ��Just some opportunities.��


    The fire essence ore mined at the base of the Fourteen mes had been entrusted to the Sea Snake for transport back to Dragonstone. It would be buried deep within Dragonmont and carefully rationed to the dragons.


    ��You haven''t had breakfast, have you? Come with me,�� Rhaenys said, taking her nephew''s hand and leading him toward the Stone Drum Tower.


    The climate in Westeros was quite different from that across the Narrow Sea, and by October, the chill had already set in. A morning meal of mutton would warm them up for the rest of the day.


    ...


    Stone Drum Tower


    A few small dishes were set on the table, and a servant poured a cup of hot milk. Rhaegar ate heartily, savoring the aroma of the roastmb. ''Aunt Rhaenys really knows how to eat; no wonder she��s the matriarch of the wealthiest family in the Seven Kingdoms,'' he thought.


    ��How did it go? Was the Smoking Sea dangerous?�� Rhaenys asked, taking a sip of her fruit wine.


    ��Everything went well, and Lord Corlys had a fruitful trip,�� Rhaegar replied, understanding her concern and answering with certainty.


    Rhaenys let out a huge sigh of relief.


    Rhaegar gulped down the milk in one go, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and asked, ��On the way here, I noticed a lot of sunken ships just outside The Gullet. They all showed signs of burning.��


    Rhaenys didn''t hesitate to exin, ��Those were the ships of Pentos, burned by Daeron on Tessarion. Some also sank in the Bay of Crabs, but those were Braavosi ships. The brothers acted decisively and achieved a great victory.��


    ��I see,�� Rhaegar nodded and stood up. "Aunt, I have to go," he said.


    ��But you��ve just finished eating,�� Rhaenys protested, frowning.


    ��It��s fine. I have something important to do, and I need to get back to King��s Landing,�� Rhaegar said as he walked out.


    With a loud noise, the castle gate opened, and a figure hurried in. Rhaegar noticed and asked, "Ser Alfred, is something the matter?"


    ��Yes, Your Grace,�� Alfred responded. He was a tall, middle-aged man who had served on Dragonstone in his youth andmanded a high level of seniority. His once-ck hair was now streaked with white at the temples, and wrinkles gathered around his eyes, giving him a serious demeanor.


    Alfred quickly approached the throne, adjusting his uneven breathing as he reported, ��Your Grace, Addam of Hull led the army back to Driftmark. The Gullet cannot do without a fleet to patrol it, so I request the appointment of the Royal Fleet.��


    Rhaegar turned his head, puzzled. ��Addam went back to Driftmark?�� He had the impression that Addam was a reliable man.


    Rhaenys nced at Alfred and bluntly exined, ��Aemond wanted to press the advantage, but the two Free Cities had already surrendered, and Addam refused Aemond��s order.��


    War isplicated, and a single decision can shift the entire situation. The enemy hadn''t initiated the attack but had provoked conflict within the Narrow Sea. Aemond took the initiative, making the situation morally ambiguous. Crossing the Narrow Sea for revenge was already considered a full-scale war. Addam was more reasonable, heeding the warnings of Rhaenyra and Rhaenys, and firmly opposing the esction. Aemond tried to persuade him with both threats and promises, but Addam stood his ground.


    ��A tough nut to crack, isn��t he?�� Rhaegarughed, his opinion of Addam rising even further. It was hard not to appreciate an advisor loyal to the crown.


    ��Your Grace, what are your thoughts?�� Alfred asked earnestly, hoping to make a significant impact.


    Rhaegar��s smile faded as he asked, "Ser, why didn��t you lead the Royal Fleet when the Vryon fleet went into battle?"


    Alfred was taken aback and stammered, "Your Grace wasn''t there, so I couldn��t request the position."


    ��And taking the Free Cities'' fleet by surprise with force would have been disastrous,�� he continued.


    That was evident during the battle led by Addam against the Vryon fleet. There were too many enemies, and the dragons couldn��t burn them all quickly enough. To win, the fleet needed to open up the situation.


    ��Alright, there��s no need to say more,�� Rhaegar interrupted, raising his hand with a sigh. ��I understand your feelings, but the Royal Fleet is not to be moved lightly. Focus on increasing patrols.��


    ��But, Your Grace...�� Alfred began to argue but was cut off by Rhaegar��s cold dismissal.


    Rhaegar walked away inrge strides, not wanting to engage further. ''He had no desire to get involved in a situation that could escte, yet he nned to take credit for the victory once the battle was won. Ser Alfred was, after all, a seasoned veteran.''


    ...


    Rhaegar stepped out of the Stone Drum Tower, the warm sunshine spilling over his face. He raised a hand to shade his eyes, muttering to himself. He hadn''t spent much time with Ser Alfred, who had mostly served Rhaenyra, the Princess of Dragonstone. Yet,tely, Alfred had been lingering around him at every opportunity, clearly eager to make a name for himself.


    Rhaegar frowned, a nagging sense of familiarity tugging at him. ''Where have I seen that face before?'' he wondered. Perhaps it was in a dream from long ago. Unable to ce it, Rhaegar eventually gave up trying to figure it out.


    ...


    At the base of the mountain, Dragonmont.


    The Cannibal crouched on the ground, idly flicking its tail.


    Tap, tap...


    The familiar sound of footsteps caught its attention, and it slowly opened its green, vertical pupils. Rhaegar stepped into the sunlight, cradling a ck dragon egg in his arms.


    "Roar... Roar..."


    A dozen poorly dressed Dragonkeepers followed closely behind, struggling to control three ugly baby Wyverns with green-and-white mottled stripes, their movements restricted by heavy chains.


    The elder Dragonkeeper, his face smeared with blood, spoke solemnly, "Your Grace, Wyverns cannot be kept on Dragonmont. They will disturb the dragons."


    "Roar..."


    One of the ugly hatchlings let out a shrill cry, attempting to lunge and bite at anything within reach.


    Rhaegar waved his hand dismissively, understanding the concern. "Lock them up and feed them the cheapest fish."


    Wyverns were fierce butcked intelligence. The clutch of dragon eggs had originally been brought back from Sothoryos as a potential food reserve. If they hatched, they would try to raise them, but the daily expenses couldn''t be too great��the dragons already consumed a staggering amount. Feeding them fish would suffice.


    The elder Dragonkeeper nodded emphatically, relieved. "I will not let you down, Your Grace."


    He then signaled the other Dragonkeepers to drag the Wyverns away, striking their heads with bamboo sticks to keep them in line. Without this deterrent, they risked being bitten.


    Rhaegar watched for a moment before climbing onto the back of the Cannibal. The unexpected hatching of the Wyvern eggs was a wee surprise. If they developed well, the adult dragon''s food supply would be secure. And if the Wyverns could be tamed, they might even be formidable assets in battle.


    ...


    Midday.


    The Cannibal soared back to King''s Landing, circling the city twice as the people below erupted in cheers. The blockade of The Gullet had kept many informed about the ongoing war, and the King''s return from across the Narrow Sea was a much-needed boost to their spirits.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal let out a powerful roar before descending andnding in front of the Dragonpit.


    Momentster, a white chariot rolled into view.


    ...


    Red Keep, the King��s chambers.


    ��Ha-ha-ha...�� Viserysy pale and panting in his bed, hisughter tinged with weariness. ��There��s medicine. How long will it take to cure me?��


    Rhaegar sat by the bedside, gently wiping the sweat from his father��s forehead. Grand Maester Orwyle and Maester Munkun stood nearby, one grinding the juice of the Soul Restoring Orchid, the other poring over medical texts.


    Maester Munkun frowned as he read, then hesitated before speaking. ��The herb will certainly help, but the strain on King Viserys'' spirit is taking a toll on his body. It will take time for him to recover fully.��


    The truth was, Viserys was over fifty, and in the rtively underdeveloped continent of Westeros, his health was fragile. Rhaegar understood the implication and replied pragmatically, ��Don��t rush it, but ensure my father can return to a normal life. He can��t linger like this.��


    ��That won��t be a problem,�� Maester Munkun assured him confidently.


    Orwyle finished grinding the juice, mixed it with the medicinal powder, and brought it to the bedside. ��I��ll feed Your Grace.��


    ��Thank you,�� Rhaegar said, helping his father sit up and parting his trembling lips.


    Orwyle, though less knowledgeable than Munkun, was diligent in his duties. He gently fed the medicine to Viserys, whose frown deepened as he tasted the bitterness. ��I��m not drinking anymore, it��s too bitter,�� Viserys muttered.


    ��Just drink it, Father. The kingdom needs you,�� Rhaegar urged, offering a sweetened broth that Orwyle had prepared. The sweetness seemed to cut through the bitterness, or perhaps it was thefort of his eldest son''s voice. Viserys��s brow rxed slightly as hey back in Rhaegar��s solid embrace, breathing a bit more easily.


    ��Let��s step outside for now,�� Rhaegar said, carefullyying his father back down before motioning for the Maesters to follow him. Five fresh, ripe Soul Restoring Orchids would more than suffice to heal the damage to his spirit. After that, it was just a matter of time.


    ...


    With a long-standing worry finally resolved, the pent-up emotions of years began to ease. Rhaegar made his way to the Princess''s bedroom.


    Knock, knock, knock!


    He knocked on the door, and a response came almost immediately.


    "Come in, brother."


    Rhaegar smiled faintly and reached out to push open the door.


    ��You��re finally back,�� Hena said, kneeling on the carpet with a radiant smile. Her fair face, free of any powder, glowed with natural beauty, her silver hair cascading around her cheeks, making her all the more striking.


    ��I brought you a present,�� Rhaegar said, tilting his head as he yfully bounced a ck dragon egg in his hands.

 Chapter 605: Sheepstealer Shows Off

    Chapter 605: Sheepstealer Shows Off


    "A dragon egg?" Hena frowned, picking up the small garment she was sewing.


    Rhaegar''s lips curled up slightly as he ced the ck dragon egg in the prepared baby cradle. "The egg of Dreamfyre, remember?"


    It had once belonged to him, but unfortunately, it did not hatch.


    Hena nodded, suddenly recalling the origin of the dragon egg. Rhaenyra had snatched it from the hands of her uncle, Daemon. Aegon had not yet been born at that time.


    Rhaegar sat down with a thud, ran his hand over Hena''s swollen belly, and smiled. "Once Father has been cured, the baby will be born." He predicted it would be a boy.


    Hena''s eyes twinkled, and she slowly lifted the corners of her mouth. "I''m leaving for Qohor tomorrow."


    Rhaegar waited patiently for the conversation to continue. "Where''s Aegon? I haven''t seen him."


    "At Harrenhal. He''s fallen in love with the Hall of a Hundred Hearths."


    "Oh, that''s a great ce for parties.""His second wife is pregnant, and the Maesters think it''s a boy."


    The siblings chatted about Aegon''s good fortune. Hena''s face grew serious as she leaned into Rhaegar''s ear and whispered, "Aegon''s wife was very jealous. She secretly sent letters to his mother toin, but when Aegon found out, he banished her to the Stepstones."


    After she finished, she tilted her chin up slightly, like an arrogant kitten begging for praise. Rhaegar hesitated for a moment, rubbed her plush head, and thought, ''This kid really dares to love and hate.''


    Even after the conflict between the cks and Greens ended, Aegon''s shadow still loomed over Hightower. Alicent''s status had plummeted, and she was unable to help her niece, who had fallen out of favor.


    After a while, Hena yawned andy unceremoniously on his strong thigh. "The baby is due in three months. You have to be careful."


    Rhaegar smoothed her hair, enjoying the rare peaceful afternoon. Hena closed her eyes, nestled her little head in his arms, and snuggled up with a soft sound as her nose turned red.


    King''s Landing was known as a leaky rat''s nest. Any Targaryen king who lived there would be subject to countless prying eyes. A young girl staying behind in the Red Keep would have a hard time sleeping every night.


    Rhaegar adjusted his breathing to calm his racing heart. He called up the system panel.


    [Rhaegar Targaryen


    Talents: Dreamer (Gold)


    Bloodline: Dragonborn (69%)


    Runes: Bronze (Green), Serpent (Blue), Dream Eater (Purple)


    Blood Magic: Binding Spell (Blue), Dragon Dance (Purple), Blood Dance (Purple)...


    Relics: Blood and Fire, Dreamscape, Pure Water...


    Special Items: Space Ne, Dragonhorn (Special)


    Comment: "The excessive depletion of magic in the blood will cause even true dragons to fall into a deep sleep."]


    Rhaegar scanned the list and then lowered his eyes in silence. The aftereffects of recklessly using the Dragonhorn could linger for a year or even several years. Although it did not affect the foundation, there was still some weakness. The fire magic in his blood had be diluted and was slowly recovering day by day. Perhaps he needed to find a ce with an abundance of fire magic. For example, Dragonmont on Dragonstone.


    "Brother~"


    Hena''s eyes were tightly shut as she suddenly whispered, "Aemond will be in danger."


    ...


    That night...


    The king''s chambers.


    "Here, be careful." Alicent''s eyes were calm as she helped her husband turn over, then wrung out a towel to wipe his body.


    "Ssshh..." The wet towel touched a cut on his back, and Viserys let out a sharp breath of pain.


    "Sorry, sorry." Alicent was startled and quickly took out some ointment, carefully applying it to the wound.


    The evening breeze blew through the curtains, filling the bedroom with the scent of herbs. Viserys, bloated and covered in cuts and bruises from his long stay in bed,y still. Alicent moved with practiced skill and gentleness, ustomed to this routine.


    "You''ve worked hard," Viserys said between clenched teeth, his wordsbored.


    Alicent paused for a moment, then continued applying the ointment as if nothing had happened. After all these years, she was used to it.


    Viserys nced up and whispered, "The children have all grown up."


    "Yes," Alicent responded, her tone indifferent.


    "When I regain my strength, I''ll ride Vermithor and show you around Oldtown." Viserysy back down, smiling as he chatted idly.


    Alicent''s expression shifted slightly, though her inner thoughts remained hidden. "It will get better; everything will get better," Viserys murmured, his eyes closing as he drifted off like a sleepwalker.


    ...


    A few dayster...


    Essos, Qohor.


    "Roar!"


    An ugly, rotten mud dragon soared above the Free Cities, its brown wings pping as mud-like Dragonfire sprinkled down in fine droplets. The city below was deathly silent, nketed in brown, mud-colored Dragonfire and charred ck earth. Most of the buildings had been destroyed, and the once-majestic temple built against the mountainy in ruins. Themon people had taken refuge in cers, as if the end of the world hade.


    Outside the city gates, in the Forest of Qohor, arge banner bearing three red dragons fluttered above the military camp, where a crowd of Dothraki vented their anger. The chaotic sounds carried into the tent, stoking Aemond''s already simmering rage.


    Bang!


    Aemond''s face turned pale as he kicked over the sand table, scowling menacingly. "These damned pariahs��they''re so fearless!" he growled. His dragon had been burning the city for days, yet no one had opened the gates to surrender. The Dothraki cavalry, ill-suited for siege warfare, spent their days idly gathering and causing chaos at the Khal''s signal.


    "Vulgar barbarians, lowly scum," Aemond muttered as he nced outside the tent. He saw two Dothraki men brandishing swords and hacking at each other over a woman with her breasts bared. Zi��one man''s artery was cut, and blood gushed like a spring. The victor let out a wild cry, ignored the blood and filth on his face, and mounted the corpse to im his prize. The sight made Aemond''s blood boil; he wanted to gouge out his remaining eye in disgust.


    "Don''t let your anger cloud your judgment. The advantage is still on our side," Otto advised calmly, stepping aside and twirling the ring on his thumb. The situation was indeed tricky��the people of Qohor were enraged. But they had a dragon on their side.


    Aemond sneered, "What do you think willpensate for a city-state lost for nothing, Grandfather?"


    "We have all the time in the world. They don''t," Otto replied with a knowing smile. "There''s plenty of gold in the city, but not enough food."


    Ser Cole, who had been standing guard at the door, entered and grunted, "Prince, there''s something going on with the other Free Cities. We should cut some of their routes��for example, Braavos, Pentos, and the closest one, Norvos. These three cities are in league and secretly inciting riots in Qohor."


    Aemond snorted derisively. "If they daree, they''ll be torn apart and fed to the dragons."


    "Yes, that''s what those pariahs deserve!" Bartimos, lying on the floor in the corner, stretched his bandaged, bloodied belly and loudlyined about the injuries he had suffered. He had nearly had his intestines ripped out and his penis cut off, left to dangle from a gallows.


    His grumbling only fueled Aemond''s anger. With a crash, Aemond picked up a carved stone emblem and smashed it over Bartimos'' head, pointing a finger and shouting, "Shut up, you brainless, ugly toad!"


    Bartimos screamed in pain, blood pouring from the fresh wound. Without hands, he could only use his sleeves to cover it, a pitiful andical sight. No one intervened; they simply watched, indifferent. The rich and powerful were to me for their high-handed policies, squeezing thest drop of blood from themon people. Bartimos, after all, had been mainly responsible for the riots in Qohor.


    ...


    In the afternoon, the sun shone brightly. A ck dragon soared through the endless white clouds, casting a shadow over a vast, lush forest before descending into a hidden clearing. With a rumble, its massive body crushed tree trunks beneath it, sending up a cloud of dust.


    "Wait for me, Cannibal," Rhaegar said gravely as he looked down at the deserted camp of wooden palisades below. He dismounted the dragon, his expression tense.


    Therge camp was eerily empty, with nothing but horse manure, hoof prints, and the stench of excrement lingering in the air. Rhaegar''s brows knitted in disgust as he held his breath and surveyed the area.


    "Your Grace?"


    The curtain of the main tent was lifted, and Otto and Ser Cole emerged, one after the other. Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as he took in Otto''s aged face��he almost didn''t recognize the former royal chancellor, once so meticulous about his appearance.


    "Your Grace, why have youe?" Cole asked, his voice tinged with confusion. He stood stiffly in white robes and silver armor, his posture rigid.


    Rhaegar, in no mood for pleasantries, went straight to the point. "Where is Aemond?"


    "Prince��" Cole began, but Otto cut him off, speaking in a low tone. "Aemond led the Dothraki cavalry to attack the city. He''s been gone for over an hour and a half."


    Rhaegar''s face fell with disappointment. Without another word, he turned to leave. "Guard the camp. I''ll go find him."


    No matter the situation, he needed to see Aemond first. Something was off in Qohor��there was a conspiracy brewing.


    As the king rode away on his dragon, Otto watched him with deep, calcting eyes. ''He really came and went in a hurry,'' he mused.


    His grandson Aemond was a capable warrior, but not a trustworthymander. The situation in Qohor was already precarious, muddied by the power struggle involving the Free Cities and House Targaryen. If they weren��t careful, they could be drowned in the chaos.


    What did the king''s arrival signify? Would it be a crackdown on the Free Cities or the official deration of war on the continent of Essos?


    ...


    Meanwhile, Qohor was under siege.


    "Release the arrows!"


    Arge number of Sellswords, their hair dyed in various colors, stood atop the city walls. They operated scorpion crossbows and drew back their bows, unleashing a hail of arrows. The Unsullied army that had once defended the Free Cities had long since been wiped out.


    "Ooooooooooo��"


    The battle cries of the invaders echoed through the air as theyunched a relentless assault. Lacking proper siege weapons, they were forced to rely on brute force, using simple woodendders to scale the walls and battering the city gates with makeshift wooden stakes.


    "Get out of the way!"


    Aemond''s voice rang out, cutting through the chaos, followed by the arrogant roar of his dragon.


    "Roar!"


    The agile form of Sheepstealer darted across the city walls, unleashing Dragonfire that burned a line of Sellswords like beads on a string. With each pass, the walls became littered with charred corpses.


    Rumble.


    Seizing the opportunity, Sheepstealernded heavily on the city gate, its bony frame quivering as it swung its dragon tail like a chain.


    "Ahhh!"


    "Run! The dragon ising!" Panic spread among the Sellswords as Sheepstealer''s tail struck, shattering a dozen of them into bloody fragments. The dragon, ugly on the outside and vicious on the inside, spread its ws wide, disying its menacing majesty.


    "Break down the gate, you idiots!" Aemond could hardly bear the sight of any dy and urged the dragon on with frustration.


    "Roar!" Sheepstealer grunted in protest, shaking its skeletal frame. But the two were deeply attuned to each other, long ustomed to their shared ruthlessness. Aemond tugged hard on the reins, asserting control over the disobedient Mud Dragon.


    Sheepstealer reared its head, lifted its scaly tail high, and mmed it down with full force on the city gate.


    Rumble.


    The impact resounded with a thunderous crash, causing the sturdy gate to shake violently.


    "Again!" Aemond''s expression brightened with anticipation, sensing the gate''s impending copse.


    Proudly, Sheepstealer raised its head, snatched a hapless Sellsword in its jaws, and swallowed him whole. Then, with renewed vigor, it swung its tail once more.


    Rumble...


    After several sessive strikes, the city gate, pounded relentlessly, began to crumble. The heavy bolt shattered with a loud crash, signaling the breach.

 Chapter 606: Black Goat and Faceless Men?

    Chapter 606: ck Goat and Faceless Men?


    The war raged on, growing ever more brutal by the hour. As the Sheepstealers soared towards the temple, the fiercest battles erupted between the armies.


    "Ooooo~"


    "Where are the sellswords...?"


    Thousands of civilians were dragged from the cers, subjected to unspeakable inhumanity. Soon, the city was overwhelmed by wails, screams mingling with mes and billowing smoke.


    Whoosh��


    A gust of wind swept through, carrying the acrid smell of ash, and suddenly the earth was shrouded in shadow.


    "Pull out one person."


    A cold voice, filled with an oppressive air that seemed to look down on all living things, echoed through the chaos.


    The next moment..."No, no, no!"


    A Dothraki, caught in the midst ofmitting atrocities, looked up and let out a miserable scream.


    Pop.


    A massive, charcoal-ck dragon''s w mmed down from the sky, crushing the man into pulp and sttering his remains onto a nearby roof.


    "Roar...?"


    The Cannibal''s eerie green pupils rotated as it struggled to rise from low altitude, dragging one hind leg. It had grown toorge, too quickly, and its strength was uncertain. It hadn''t noticed and had overdone it.


    Rhaegar pped his forehead, muttering something in his native tongue.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal, defiant, opened its jaws in a cruel arc and swooped down again, snatching several Dothraki on horseback. It shook its dark wings and swiftly left the battlefield.


    Everything happened so quickly that those below only saw a dark shadow��a monstrous dragon��before hearing the howls of fear that barely sounded human.


    Since all those who disappeared were Dothraki, the local civilians fell to their knees. They wept and prayed aloud, believing they had encountered a true god.


    ...


    The masked temple of worship stood in ruins. The beautifullyid-out forecourt was reduced to ashes, the once-lush canopy of trees now stripped bare, with two dried monkey carcasses hanging from the charred branches.


    Rumble��


    The Sheepstealer folded its wings, one hind leg crushing the shattered courtyard wall beneath it.


    "Guard the gate. Don''t let anyone get close," Aemondmanded, barely able to contain his impatience. Drawing his Scarlet Forger, he leapt off the dragon''s back.


    He was determined to find those damned beardedpriests, cut off their heads, and shove them down the toilet. ''And those holy women,'' he thought, ''so clean on the outside, yet undoubtedly whores in the sack. They deserve to be thrown to the Dothraki and reduced to the role of a stable toilet.''


    ��Roar!��


    The Sheepstealer let out a deafening roar, shifting its massive body forward, its pupils dting with rm. As a wild dragon, its primal instinct was survival.


    "Get out of my way!" Aemond snarled, bypassing the dragon''s yed and broken tail as he charged menacingly into the temple.


    The priests, who had plundered the people''s wealth, had likely only ever faced Sellswords. But Aemond feared no one in this world, save perhaps his brother Rhaegar and his uncle Daemon. Even Ser Cole, a multiple Tournament of Champions winner, was merely a stone on which to sharpen his sword.


    ��Roar!��


    The Sheepstealer, squinted and slowlyy down on the ground, watching as Aemond stormed ahead.


    ...


    Entering the dpidated temple, Aemond held the Scarlet Forger tightly, his single eye scanning the surroundings with vignt intensity.


    "Come out, you scum!" he shouted defiantly, his voice echoing through the windswept hall. His eye swept across the fluttering door curtain, searching for any sign of movement.


    But after a long moment of silence, there was nothing. No sound, no response.


    Aemond''s lips curled into a sneer. "A bunch of gutless sewer maggots," he muttered. Without wasting any more time, he kicked open a wooden door that led to the backyard and headed directly for the secret passage.


    As a proud Targaryen, Aemond held disdain for anyone who wasn''t a dragon rider. Whethermoner or noble, in his eyes, they were all just ants to be crushed underfoot.


    Bang!


    He reached the withered backyard and kicked open the hidden entrance to the secret passage. The dim, damp tunnel was dimly lit by wallmps, their weak glow casting eerie shadows on the walls. Aemond nced around briefly before drawing his sword and stepping into the passage, staying close to the wall as he advanced.


    Tick-tock, tick-tock...


    Water dripped through the gaps in the stone ceiling, the sound sharp and crisp as it hit the floor. Aemond''s impatience grew, and he quickened his pace. The tunnel was long and narrow, with no unnecessary twists, leading him ever deeper underground.


    After what felt like a quarter of an hour, the passage suddenly opened up into the outside world, revealing a lush green meadow. Aemond squinted against the blinding sunlight, his eye filled with disgust as he stepped out of the cave.


    Birds chirped and animals cooed around him, their sounds irritating in the silence.


    "Baa!"


    A herd of goats nibbled at the grass, led by a strong ck goat. Aemond paid them no mind, his gaze fixed instead on a red-roofed temple built into the hillside. ''So this is where they''re hiding,'' he thought with a smirk, certain that the bearded priests had taken refuge there.


    Without hesitation, Aemond strode toward the temple. ng! ng! With two swift sword shes, he broke through the tightly shut wooden doors.


    "Ahhh!"


    A dozen red-robed priests cowered inside the main hall, screaming in terror as if the devil himself hade for them. At the front of the hall, a statue of a ck goat loomed over two bloody corpsesid out as offerings. Aemond''s eye caught the colorful gauze skirts beneath the bodies��those of the temple''s so-called holy women.


    These skirts, designed without ties or crotches, allowed the priests to defile the women and believers at will.


    "Don''t kill us! They forced us!" several nuns in tattered colorful dresses cried, falling to their knees in desperate pleas.


    But Aemond''s face remained cold and expressionless. There was no mercy in his heart for these whores.


    "He''s only one man��kill him!" one of the red priests shouted, emboldened by the absence of the dragon.


    ...


    Pop!


    Before the priest could react, the Scarlet Forger shed, and his head was severed from his neck.


    The room fell into stunned silence. The remaining priests, who had initially considered resisting, were now frozen in fear. Aemond''s single eye was cold and calcting as he wiped the blood from his sword on the lifeless corpse. "Anyone else?" he asked, his voice dripping with indifference.


    ''How presumptuous,'' he thought, ''A bunch of fat pigs like you daring to resist a true dragon.''


    "We surrender!" croaked an elderly priest with a hunched back and a grey beard, his voice frail and trembling. The other priests, too terrified to speak, clustered around the old priest for protection.


    Aemond sneered. "Surrender? You are prisoners, ves waiting to be ughtered."


    The old priest closed his eyes helplessly, silently praying to the ck goat of his faith. But Aemond was unmoved. Brandishing his sword, he demanded, "Tell me who is helping you in secret, and I might let you live."


    "The ck goat god will not allow us to betray our allies," the old priest replied, his voice calm, his expression even more devout.


    "Oh?" Aemond''s patience was wearing thin, his demeanor growing colder by the second.


    "I know!" a sudden voice rang out, breaking the tension. A silver-haired woman stepped forward from the group of holy women. Aemond turned to see the silver witch, the one who had once performed a divination for him. Like him, she was a descendant of a Dragonlord, barely eptable in his eyes.


    The silver witch''s gauze dress still exuded an air of purity as she spoke sternly, "I can tell you the truth��it''s behind the main hall."


    "Lead the way!" Aemond''s eye gleamed with interest. He had been dissatisfied with the result of herst divination, but he couldn��t deny that she possessed some power.


    "Follow me," the silver witch said, swaying her hips as she walked barefoot around the ck goat statue.


    "Wait!" the old priest cried out, his voice filled with desperation as he reached out to stop them.


    Swish��


    Aemond swung his sword, severing the old priest''s hand.


    "Ahhh!" the priest screamed, his eyes bloodshot as he clutched his bleeding stump, wailing in agony.


    Aemond''s face remained stony as he continued to follow the silver haired witch. Rumors had long circted about the strange magic of the Masked Temple, a power bestowed by the ck goat deity. Having just received the ��Bronze�� rune from his brother Rhaegar, Aemond was more interested in magic than ever before.


    ...


    On the far side of the field, the Cannibal soared above the Masked Temple, its sharp eyes spotting the Sheepstealer feasting below.


    ��Roar!��


    Without waiting for its rider''smand, the Dragoneater''s natural instincts took over, and it let out a thunderous roar. The Sheepstealer looked up, startled, and saw the massive form of the Cannibal��twice its size��with a hideous maw spewing wisps of green fire.


    ��Roar!��


    Panicked, the Sheepstealer pped its brown wings and took off, rolling and scrambling to escape. It sniffed the air frantically, searching for its lost rider.


    ��Let''s follow them,�� Rhaegarmanded, his brow furrowed in concern. Something felt off.


    The Cannibal''s green vertical pupils glinted with cunning as it pursued the Mud Dragon at a leisurely pace, its enormous wings casting a menacing shadow.


    ��Roar!��


    The Sheepstealer, terrified by the predator looming behind it, fled with all its strength.


    ...


    In no time, two dragons descended upon the meadow behind the mountain. The Sheepstealer, terrified, dove into the forest, abandoning even its favorite goat, and huddled in fear, shivering.


    "Alright, enough scaring it," Rhaegar said, sliding off the Cannibal''s back. He approached the red-roofed temple cautiously.


    Creak.


    The long-closed door groaned as it swung open, sending a cloud of dust into his face.


    ��Ahem...�� Rhaegar coughed, waving a hand to clear away the cobwebs clinging to the curtain. As he stepped inside, he surveyed the lobby, taking in the scene with a sharp eye. The ce was in shambles��the wooden floor thick with dust, the ck goat statue in the center shrouded in cobwebs, its eerie, vertical pupils seeming to follow his every move.


    "It doesn''t look like anyone''s been here," Rhaegar muttered, though his instincts told him otherwise. There was something unsettling about this temple, a creeping sensation that made his skin crawl. It felt as though unseen eyes were watching him from the shadows, yet no matter where he looked, he found nothing.


    Silently, Rhaegar drew Truefyre, the de glinting ominously in the dim light. His toes scraped the dusty floor, leaving marks as he advanced. His gaze swept the room intently. The dust patterns varied in thickness, creating the illusion of something being cut.


    Whoosh!


    Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a shadow darting in the corner of the hall. Rhaegar whipped his head around, only to find the space empty.


    ��Truly strange,�� he murmured, tightening his grip on his sword. The me at the de''s tip flickered and glowed more brightly. He knew he couldn''t afford to retreat��Aemond was missing, likely somewhere in this very temple.


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed with determination as he approached the statue of the ck goat. With a quick motion, he pulled down the curtain from one side and draped it over the statue, concealing itpletely.


    ...


    Then, suddenly, his expression hardened. "If you don��t want your heritage to be extinguished, get out of here!" Rhaegarmanded fiercely. As he spoke, a trace of ck fire flickered in his eyes, and ck scales and horns began to form on his forehead.


    Since the magical tides had surged, the magic and wizards he had encountered had be increasingly diverse. The Song of Ice and Fire had broadened his horizons in ways he hadn��t imagined. Regardless of whether the ck Goat was tied to the strange and supernatural, it was still just a remnant of an ancient Valyrian fire peak mine, organized by the beliefs of ve revolts.


    It didn��t deserve his respect.


    After a tense moment, the ck Goat statue remained inert, still as lifeless as any ordinary object. Rhaegar stood his ground, and the elusive shadow that had flitted across the room earlier was nowhere to be seen. The air even seemed fresher, with less dust swirling in the hall.


    ��Keep your hands off my business,�� Rhaegar muttered, dismissively snorting as he walked past the shrouded statue and made his way toward the back hall of the temple.


    As soon as he stepped across the threshold, he heard a familiar voice.


    ��Where is the person you were talking about?�� Aemond��s tone was icy, as though he were interrogating someone.


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed as he noticed the scene before him. Opposite Aemond stood a beautiful woman with cold, silver hair cascading down her back. There was something unsettling about her, something that made Rhaegar hold his breath and observe silently.


    The back hall was thick with the heavy scent of incense, and in the dim light, stone carvings lined the room��statues of thepassionate Mother, the shackled Harpy, the unique night lion of Yi Ti, and many others. It was as though every major deity was represented here, including the Lord of Light and the ck goat from the front hall.


    Just then, the cold-looking woman lifted her silver hair and moved closer to Aemond. Rhaegar frowned slightly, sensing that she wasn��t trying to seduce him.


    With a sharp rip, the Maiden tore off her face, revealing aid, human skin mask that fell away to expose the face of an unremarkable man beneath.


    ��<em>Vr morghulis! </em>(All men must die!)�� the man dered, his eyes dark and menacing as he drew a hairpin from the back of his head, his true intent finally revealed.

 Chapter 607: Dead Volcano – Recasting Dragon Claw

    Chapter 607: Dead Volcano �C Recasting Dragon w


    In a sh of lightning and fire, the hairpin pierced Aemond''s throat.


    "Faceless Men!" Rhaegar''s murderous intent surged as he reversed Truefyre and plunged it into the floor.


    A wisp of ck me sprang forth, racing away like a tongue of fire. A distant roar of rage echoed from midair.


    At that moment, Aemond''s eyes were dull, his grip on the sword ck. He did not feel the wind as it blew, bringing the hairpin ever closer. The Faceless Men remained calm, long since indifferent to death. Suddenly, a cold light reflected in his eyes. Instinctively, he moved to the side to avoid the unknown danger.


    Bang!


    The ck me was faster, wrapping around the Faceless Men��s feet and up their waist, tightening like a vice. The Faceless Men screamed, dropping the hairpin from their grasp.


    "Die!" Rhaegar roared, drawing Truefyre, and plunged it through his unprotected chest. Blood sprayed as mes licked at the wound.


    The Faceless Men fought to the death, gripping the ck sword in one hand while kicking the hairpin towards Aemond''s face. The hairpin shot forward with the speed and precision of an arrow loosed from a bow.


    Rhaegar��s expression changed as he reached out to intercept the silver hairpin.ng��


    The hairpin struck Aemond��s ck eye patch, shattering the fake sapphire eye beneath it. The force was so great that the useless gem instantly crumbled. Taking advantage of the brief pause, Rhaegar seized the hairpin��s end.


    "Fortunately, he already lost an eye!" Rhaegar��s eyes were sharp as a falcon��s. He flipped the hairpin in his hand and drove it into the Faceless Men��s brow.


    Pop!


    The hairpin pierced through soft flesh, shattering the hard skull beneath. The Faceless Men��s eyes widened asyer afteryer of the fake human skin mask peeled away. His body copsed backward, hitting the floor with a muffled thud.


    Rhaegar drew Truefyre sideways and looked down at the Faceless Men, whose eyes remained wide open even in death.


    "<em>Vr... Dohaeris </em>(All men... must serve)," the Faceless Men mouthed, dead beyond death.


    Rhaegar used his sword to lift aside the pile of fake skin masks, but for a moment, he couldn��t discern which face was real. It was just as the House of ck and White had said: ''A nameless and faceless men.''


    "Luckily, I arrived in time, or else you would have been in trouble." Rhaegar let out a sigh of relief after confirming the death was real. He nced at Aemond, who was still making a strange face, caught in the effects of the drugged air.


    "You are lucky to be alive," Rhaegar remarked with a smile, grabbing Aemond by the cor. The eye patch had a hole in it, and the fake sapphire eye was half-broken.


    His gaze fell on the Valyrian de strapped to Aemond��s waist, the leather sheath revealing part of the de. The earlier blinding light that had startled the Faceless Men hade from this de.


    Rhaegar��s expression was peculiar as he patted Aemond on the cheek. ��Your one eye has saved you twice.��


    Aemond remained unresponsive, still lost in a daze.


    Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed slightly, a kind smile ying on his lips. ��Let me help you wake up, my friend.�� With one hand, he grabbed Aemond by the cor and made a fist with the other.


    Bang!


    Rhaegar��s hard punchnded squarely on Aemond��s unprotected right eye. Aemond let out a muffled grunt, his body leaning backward.


    ��That wasn��t even close!�� Rhaegar pretended to be disappointed before going in for another strike.


    Bang! Bang!


    His fists rained down on Aemond��s numb face, each blow heavy and deliberate. While this was a chance for Rhaegar to exact a bit of revenge, his true intent was to save his brother from the daze he was trapped in. After all, they were brothers, and even though Rhaenyra had given him strict instructions before leaving, Rhaegar knew he had to be careful.


    Bang! Bang!


    The thought crossed Rhaegar��s mind as he swung his fists without mercy. Aemond��s nose bled, and his face grew bruised as the punches continued. Stars began to dance before his eyes.


    ��Stop! Stop...�� Aemond��s voice broke through in terror as his eyes suddenly cleared, struggling to escape the assault.


    Bang!


    Rhaegar��s next punch connected with a sharp crack, breaking Aemond��s high, straight nose.


    ��Uhhh!�� Aemond��s breath caught, and his eyes rolled back as he fainted.


    ��Oops, you��re awake?�� Rhaegar eximed in surprise, quickly catching his unconscious brother in his arms. The sight of blood trickling from Aemond��s nostrils was almost heartbreaking.


    ��Let��s go, brother. I��ll take you back.�� Rhaegar suppressed a smirk as he hoisted the limp Aemond and began to carry him out of the temple.


    ...


    Soon, they emerged through the temple doors.


    ��Roar!��


    Sheepstealer crawled out from behind the temple, its dry, weathered dragon head extending forward, eyes locked on the unconscious Aemond.


    ��Stand down,�� Rhaegarmanded in High Valyrian, reassuring the beast, "Be quiet, all will be well."


    ��Roar!�� Sheepstealer, understanding themand, shook its tail and backed away. Moments earlier, it had sensed its rider in danger and roared in haste, uncertain if the foolish rider had heard it.


    Rhaegar nced at Sheepstealer��s rugged form before shifting Aemond��s weight on his shoulders. Fortunately, Aemond had be only the second person in House Targaryen��s history to ride a wild dragon. Likewise, he was also the first to be sought out by one.


    By taming a wild dragon at such a young age, Aemond had ensured he would never again be seen as a wild man without a dragon...


    Pentos.


    The Prince''s Pce, cliffs at the rear.


    A group of richly dressed nobles gathered at the foot of the city walls, their eyes fixed on the vast, smoke-covered coast. They were utterly engrossed, as if coveting thends across the Narrow Sea.


    Boom!


    A scarlet behemoth soared low over the sea, its wide, fleshy wings pping mightily as its forked tail split the waves. The dragon��s long, serpent-like body swayed with each movement, its ferocious, menacing head a hideous sight.


    "A dragon!" someone eximed in rm. The scarlet beast leaped into the sky with a mighty thrust, its tail sweeping the waves, sshing water over the assembled crowd. Drenched, the dignitaries couldn��t conceal their excitement as they wiped the seawater from their faces.


    ��Roar...��


    Suddenly, a deep, resonant dragon roar echoed through the air. A massive, dark green dragon burst through the clouds, revealing its weathered, enormous head. As soon as it appeared, its vast wings cast a shadow over the sky as it chased after the slender Blood Wyrm.


    Daemon smiled faintly and leaned back, spreading his arms wide.


    ��Roar...�� Caraxes flew steadily and swiftly, carrying its rider higher and faster.


    Laena, beaming with pride, shouted as she chased after them, ��Dracarys!��


    Boom!


    A torrent of orange dragonfire mixed with thick ck smoke erupted, blocking Caraxes�� path. Caraxes�� pupils narrowed as the dragon charged headlong into the searing mes. In an instant, man and dragon broke through the zing fire and dove downward. Covered in ash, Daemon shook his head with augh. Thanks to the Targaryens'' fire resistance, Laena might have identally killed her husband if she hadn��t done so already.


    ��After them!�� Laena��s face flushed as she pounded on Vhagar��s back, whose dark green scales were as tough as iron tes. Vhagar growled, and with a powerful lunge, overtook Caraxes by sheer force and momentum.


    With a rumble, the two dragons��one green, one red��soared past the castle perched on the cliff, sending gusts of wind so fierce that the nobles below struggled to stand upright. The dragons circled the sea twice before slowly descending outside the castle.


    ...


    <strong>Night had fallen.</strong>


    <strong>The Prince''s residence hosted a grand banquet, weing two old friends as honored guests.</strong>


    At the head of the table, Prince Reggio, hisrge belly straining against his tunic, frequently raised his goblet in a toast.


    ��To our Prince of Tyrosh and his wife, Lady Laena!�� he dered. ��To you both!��


    The gathered advisers and nobles echoed the toast, raising their sses, careful not to show even the slightest hint of neglect. Reggio downed his wine in one gulp, then turned to Daemon, who was seated across from him. With a sincere expression, he said, ��Prince, you and I are both princes, and we shall be as brothers.��


    ��I have a grand venture in mind and would be honored if you joined me in making a fortune together!��


    ��Oh? I��m honored,�� Daemon replied with a smile, ncing at his wife beside him.


    Six months ago, Braavos and Pentos had formed an alliance, aiming to spy on The Gullet and control the Narrow Sea, only to be thwarted by his two nephews�� forceful retaliation. Now, six monthster, it was time to usher in peace.


    The couple, after negotiations led by the Sea Snake and Rhaenyra, hade to meet with Prince Reggio of Pentos. Reggio, an old friend and a shrewd businessman, had immediately weed them with open arms upon seeing the two dragons descend from the sky.


    Reggio gulped down another ss of wine and leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. ��I''ll let you in on a secret. Someone paid me a hefty sum to organize a fleet to transport food and medicine to the Basilisk Isles.��


    ��That ce is part of Sothoryos, a chaotd with little to no governance,�� he continued. ��I have no idea who��s behind this, but could it be they��re looking to establish a trading post?�� Reggioughed heartily, already anticipating the profits.


    ��Good luck,�� Daemon replied, raising his ss in a toast, all while gently stroking his wife��s rounded belly with his palm. ''She shouldn��t havee,'' he thought. ''Riding a dragon isn��t exactly the safest thing.''


    Laena, sensing his concern, took his hand and smiled. "Don��t worry, I��m fine," she reassured him with a pat on her belly, covered by a flowing white dress. She then whispered in his ear, ��He��s doing well, too.��


    ��In a few days, we��ll head back.��


    Though Prince Reggio��s hospitality was too generous to refuse, Daemon had little desire to linger in Pentos. Yet, the allure of solidifying alliances and winning over the people was tempting. Besides, it had been far too long since the couple had ridden their dragons together.


    ...


    <strong>Half a monthter.</strong>


    <strong>Deep within the mountains of the Forest of Qohor...</strong>


    ��Roar!��


    A massive, brown-and-tan beast soared through the sky, its scrawny body cutting through the lush canopy below. In its hind ws, it clutched a howling ck boar. The dragon''s sharp talons pierced the boar''s flesh, and with a swift motion, it flung the disemboweled carcass into the air.


    Boom!


    The dragon''s dried-up head snapped wide open, devouring the boar whole in a single gulp.


    Meanwhile, deep within the forest:


    The Cannibaly sprawled, its grotesque dragon head restingzily on a bush, hot breath stirring the leaves around it. Nearby, a low hill rose from the earth. As his thick tail swept across the ground, it revealed the entrance to a hidden cave at the hill''s base.


    ...


    <strong>In the dark cave, a three-legged furnace cast a red glow, illuminating the space with a fiery hue.</strong>


    ng! ng!


    Two old men, their hair thinning and white stubble marking their age, swung their forging hammers in rhythmic unison, striking the molten sword nks with precision.


    ��Masters, are you sure you don��t want to reconsider moving?�� Rhaegar asked as he moved a chair closer, absently ying with the polished Dragonbone hilt of a sword.


    Silence was his only answer, save for the relentless ng of hammers against metal. The two old smiths kept their mouths shut, focused solely on their solemn work.


    ��Who cares what they do? They��re just a bunch of smiths,�� Aemond said dismissively.


    Rhaegar nced at him but said nothing. Aemond��s face went pale, and he fell silent. Though half a month had passed, the bruises on his face had only just begun to fade, except for the bandage stuck to his nearly crooked, broken nose.


    Rhaegar turned his attention back to the smiths, patiently observing their superb craftsmanship. As they chanted in High Valyrian, the sword embryo was quenched in water. White smoke billowed up, obscuring the view for anyone uninitiated in the art of forging.


    The sword submerged in the water was the Dragon��s w, a de that had been lost in the Smoking Sea and imed by the wild dragon Morghul, who had stored it in itsir. After many twists and turns, the sword had finally returned to Rhaegar��s hands, just in time for the capture of Qohor and its subsequent reforging.


    ��My grandfather wants to return to Oldtown,�� Aemond muttered, his face long with reluctance.


    Rhaegar frowned. ��What��s the point of going back? Our priority is to govern Qohor.��


    Qohor was in dire straits after the Dothraki raid, nearly destroyed in its entirety. Only the intervention of the Cannibal had driven the raiders away, sparing the civilians fromplete annihtion.


    Aemond crossed his arms. ��What else is there to do?�� His thoughts drifted to retreating and waiting for his position as Triarch of Qohor. Bartimos, a narrow-minded viin, had already been driven back to w Isle, while Cole,cking in governance, had reluctantly recruited some Dothraki to train an army.


    Hearing this, Rhaegar understood what needed to be done and said calmly, ��Do as you wish. Qohor is under the watchful eyes of many, and it needs a cunning mind to take root.��


    Another thing was that Qohor, though sparsely popted, was rich in resources. Like the cave they stood in, which was actually a long-dormant extinct volcano. The smiths of Qohor had discovered this ce generations ago, and it had be a sacred site for forging ever since.


    Rhaegar could feel the abundant fire magic beneath the earth. There had to be magma deep within the rock formation. This extinct volcano significantly increased Qohor''s value��it was an ideal nesting ce for dragons, and with it, the Targaryens may had found a sanctuary to thrive and reproduce.

 Chapter 608: The Grief of Laena

    Chapter 608: The Grief of Laena


    The weather was fine, with the warm sun shining brightly.


    Boom��


    Two dragons, one following the other, emerged from the sea beneath Pentos and soared into The Gullet. Daemon''s lips curled up slightly as he savored the salty sea air.


    "Roar..."


    Dragons and humans share a simr temperament. Caraxes crossed the sea, sending up cool waves in its wake. Above the clouds, Vhagar pped its wings and ascended higher into the sky. Its massive body pushed through the clouds, revealing the sagging folds of skin along its jaw.


    Laena smiled, loosening some of the saddle sps around her waist. She was seven months pregnant, and her stomach was clearly visible. The straps couldn''t be as tight as usual.


    Gulp��


    Her stomach made a noise, as if it were hungry. Laena''s face paled slightly. She had been pregnant twice before and sensed that something was wrong.


    "Daemon, slow down!" she shouted, clutching the handlebar with both hands as she leaned forward.Then she removed her leather gloves and reached beneath her red skirt, feeling the wet, bloody stains. Laena''s head buzzed, and she had only one thought:


    ''The water has broken!''


    ...


    <strong>Midday</strong>


    <strong>Driftmark, High Tide</strong>


    ��Ahhh!�� A woman��s scream of agony echoed from the Lord��s chambers.


    ��How could this happen!?�� Daemon stood outside the door, his face dark with anger. Laena had gone into prematurebor, just as she had with her previous miscarriage.


    ��Father!���� Noisy footsteps echoed in the hallway as Ba and Rhaena rushed in, their faces pale with fear. Their fianc��s, Daeron and Aemon, followed closely behind. A truce had been reached with Pentos, specifically to end the war between Braavos and Pentos. Upon learning that their parents had returned to Driftmark, the sisters had begged Rhaenyra to send an escort.


    ��How is my mother?�� Ba asked, her voice flustered and panicked as she spun in a frantic circle.


    Daemon nced at his eldest daughter, opening his mouth to speak. ��She����


    ��Ah, Daemon���� A scream suddenly pierced the air from within the chamber, and Laena called out to her husband in a pitiable voice. The pain in her trembling tone was unmistakable.


    Daemon��s face turned cold as he held Ba back, preventing her from rushing into the room. He scolded sternly, ��Who told you toe? Go back!��


    Childbirth was a gamble against death. His daughters were too young to witness such a cruel scene.


    ��Why!?�� Ba��s eyes widened, brimming with tears. ��Mother is calling you. The attendants said she went intobor early!��


    Rhaena gripped her sister��s clothing, shaking her head in silent agreement.


    ��Don��t make me repeat myself. Don��t look at anything you shouldn��t!�� Daemon was distracted as he grabbed his eldest son-inw, Daeron, by the shoulders and pressed his forehead against Daeron��s. ��Take them back to their room. Can you do that?��


    His voice trembled as he struggled to restrain his emotions.


    Daeron hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his handsome face. ��I will,�� he finally replied. He took one of the girls by the hand and signaled for them to leave together. Every time Rhaenyra gave birth, Rhaegar had insisted that the children and their nephews stay away from the door. Daeron didn��t fully understand, but he respected his brother��s wishes.


    ��No! I��m not leaving!�� Ba struggled fiercely, tears streaming down her face.


    ��Go,�� Aemon urged, pulling her hand gently. ��We��ll only worry your mother if we stay here.��


    Daeron nodded to his uncle, then led the girls away.


    Soon, only Daemon and a maid, who kept changing the water, remained outside the door.


    ��Ahhh!�� Laena screamed in agony, leaning over the edge of the low bed, her legs spread wide in a desperate attempt to birth the child. The two Maesters were drenched in blood, their faces pale with terror. It was another difficult birth, and the aftereffects of her previousbor had left her womb torn and bleeding profusely. With the limited skills of today��s healers, there was nothing more they could do.


    One of the older Maesters, his hands trembling, rose unsteadily and left the room. Daemon, his face grim, hurriedly grabbed the Maester by the arm. ��What��s the situation?�� he demanded.


    ��It��s not good,�� the older Maester replied, his voice heavy with truth. ��The baby is in the breech position. I could attempt to push for the birth, but the mother is bleeding heavily.��


    The amount of blood loss would almost certainly lead to death.


    Bang! Daemon mmed his fist into the wall, frustration boiling over. ��She was fine just the other day! We even rode dragons this morning!��


    Since they had left the Smoking Sea, Laena had seemed much improved. If she hadn��t been, she wouldn��t have gone to Pentos.


    The old Maester gritted his teeth and continued, ��The fetus is healthy, but the mother is the issue.�� He paused, then added, ��A person��s physical state is closely tied to their state of mind. Thedy had been holding onto hope, and her condition appeared to improve. But she was concealing her injuries. Now, with the fetus fully developed and requiring more nutrients, her weakened body can no longer cope.��


    Daemon��s brow furrowed deeply as he struggled to suppress his anger. ��I don��t understand what you��re saying. Can the baby be delivered safely or not?��


    ��We��ll do our best,�� the Maester replied, his tone uncertain.


    ��I want a definite answer!�� Daemon��s voice shook as he listened to Laena��s screams, feeling as though his heart were being torn apart.


    The old Maester slowly lowered his head. ��We can only do our best,�� he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.


    Daemon, stunned by the response, shoved the man in a daze. ��Get in there. My wife needs your help.��


    The old Maester nodded silently and returned to the room.


    ...


    Time passed slowly, each moment marked by the echoes of his wife''s wails. Daemon paced back and forth, his mood sinking lower with every cry.


    Boom��


    A fierce gust of wind rattled the windows of High Tide, shaking them slightly. Daemon nced out the window just in time to see a scarlet dragonnd in the forecourt with lightning speed.


    In a short while, Rhaenys hurried up to him, her face etched with worry. ��How is Laena?�� she asked anxiously.


    Daemon remained silent, shaking his head wordlessly.


    Rhaenys��s expression shifted, and she forced a smile. ��Corlys will be back soon. He��s setting out from the Mud Gate.��


    The couple had been in King��s Landing to visit Viserys when the news reached them, and they had rushed back. Rhaenys��s red armor still clung to her, carrying the scent of dragonfire.


    Daemon said nothing, his eyes dark and uncertain.


    ��Ah! Come out���� Laena suddenly wailed from the room, pounding her arms against the bed in agony.


    Rhaenys��s eyelids twitched, and she spoke quickly. ��Last time Laena had a difficult birth, Rhaegar saved her.��


    Daemon��s eyes flickered, his voice heavy with contemtion. ��What are you suggesting?��


    Rhaenys gripped her cousin��s arm, her tone serious. ��Someone has to help Laena. Rhaegar is far away in Qohor. Do Rhaenyra or Hena know any healing magic?��


    The two sisters were the ones her nephew trusted most; it was possible they knew some arcane magic.


    Daemon closed his eyes, his voice dry and filled with despair. ��It��s no use. It��s toote.��


    Rhaenyra was in Lys, and it was unclear whether she knew any healing spells. Hena was hurrying back from King��s Landing, but even at Dreamfyre��s speed, it would take her at least half a day to arrive. And she was pregnant, unable to ride a dragon.


    Rhaenys��s pupils fluttered as she struggled to maintain herposure, leaning against the wall to keep from copsing. She knew her daughter��s condition well; Laena had been sickly for months. A sudden improvement might have been unnatural.


    ��Prince!�� The old Maester hurried out of the room, the sound of Laena��s screams gradually fading behind him.


    Rhaenys immediately asked, before Daemon could speak, ��What��s the situation?��


    The old Maester��s face was grim as he shook his head. ��It��s not good. The womb is severely torn, and a normal birth is impossible.��


    Daemon and Rhaenys felt their hearts sink at the familiar words.


    The Maester continued in a somber tone, ��While there��s still time, and the fetus is still alive, the best solution is to perform a Caesarean.��


    ��Can the mother be saved?�� Daemon asked, his chest tightening as if crushed by a mountain. For the second time in his life, he pleaded, ��Can the mother be saved?��


    The old Maester, with regret etched into his features, whispered, ��We can only guarantee the safety of the fetus.��


    Daemon opened his mouth, but his throat felt as if it were filled with sand.


    ��Make a decision quickly. The mother won��tst much longer,�� the old Maester urged, his voice tinged with sorrow. He had watched Laena grow up, and now he was tasked with deciding her fate. It was a burden no one should bear.


    ��No, I cannot choose,�� Daemon muttered, his voice breaking. His steps faltered as if he were walking on air. This was his wife, the woman who had nearly died for him. Her life was hers to give, not his to take.


    ��Do it!�� Laena''s voice rang out from inside the room, sharp and resolute. Her screams followed, piercing the heavy silence.


    Everyone outside froze, eyes snapping to the door.


    Inside, Laenay drenched in sweat, utterly exhausted. She gritted her teeth and cried out, ��Cut me open! Let the baby out!��


    ��Don��t shout! You won��t survive it,�� the Maester beside her urged, his voice filled with rm as he tried to soothe her.


    Around the bed, the maids were in tears, some holding basins of water, others clutching towels, helpless in the face of such agony.


    From his vantage point outside the door, Daemon could only make out the blurred silhouette of his wife. The old Maester, standing in the doorway, locked eyes with Daemon, his expression grave.


    Laena, pale as death, summoned thest of her strength and shouted, ��Daemon, save the baby!��


    Daemon��s body shook violently. He stumbled back, nearly losing his bnce.


    ��Prince���� The old Maester''s voice was urgent; he needed an answer.


    ��Listen to her!�� Rhaenys interjected, pulling the old Maester inside the room. Her voice wasced with pain. ��If her husband can��t make the decision, I, as her mother, will.��


    There was no time for hesitation��dying any longer would risk both lives. Someone had to act.


    The old Maester, as if finally given direction, nodded firmly and instructed his assistant to prepare a cup of poppy milk.


    ...


    Daemon��s eyes were vacant, his limbs weak as he leaned heavily against the window. Time seemed to crawl, and he found himself disoriented, unable to discern north from south or east from west. His mind was a nk te, the only sound anchoring him the persistent buzzing in his ears.


    The sun slipped from its zenith, casting an indelible gloom over High Tide.


    ��Roar!�� Vhagar��s mournful cry echoed through the skies, the old dragon circling the castle in sorrow. Itsment could be heard for miles, a sound so haunting it seemed to pierce the very heart of the fortress.


    Daemon, lost in his thoughts, looked up at the beast above. The dragon��s wail reced the screams of his wife, stabbing into his soul like a dagger.


    Then, as suddenly as it began, Vhagar��s wailing ceased.


    ��Wa wa wa~~��


    From the room behind him, the loud cry of a newborn rang out. Daemon��s fingers, gripping the windowsill, trembled, and he turned his stiff neck toward the sound, his vision blurring.


    Tap, tap...


    A figure approached, familiar yet almost ghostly. It was tall, strikingly reminiscent of Laena.


    ��Laena���� Daemon��s throat tightened, rendering him speechless. It really did look like her.


    ��Daemon.�� A voice called out, and a warm hand touched his cheek, bringing him back to reality. His vision cleared, and the figure vanished, reced by Rhaenys, her expression stoic.


    Rhaenys walked toward him, her steps heavy, holding a swaddled baby in her arms. ��Look. It��s a boy.��


    Daemon stared nkly, muttering, ��Where��s Laena?�� This morning, they had flown together on dragonback, drawing envious gazes from Prince Reggio.


    ��She��s gone where she needed to go,�� Rhaenys said, tilting her head as she took a deep breath. ��She didn��t say much, but I believe there was much she wanted to tell you.��


    Daemon squeezed his trembling hands together, trying to steady himself. ��What did she want to say?��


    ��She couldn��t say it, so I��ll speak for her.�� Rhaenys nced at the pale little face in the swaddling clothes and continued, her voice tinged with a strange detachment. ��This is the son you��ve always longed for. Laena fulfilled her duty to the Targaryen��s bloodline. She did it.��


    She thrust the swaddled baby into Daemon��s arms, her tone edged with bitterness. ��Even if it cost her everything��wasn��t that what you wanted?��

 Chapter 609: The Green Dragon and the Scarlet Dragon

    Chapter 609: The Green Dragon and the Scarlet Dragon


    The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the rising tide. Waterbirds darted across the beach, snatching fish from the waves andnding on the rocks to peck at their catch.


    Ssh!


    Daemon walked aimlessly along the shore, each step heavy and uncertain. He didn��t know why he was walking��only that he needed to keep moving, as if chasing someone��s fading footsteps.


    Plop.


    Suddenly, his foot slipped, and he stumbled, copsing into the soft gravel. His mind in a fog, Daemon unfastened the Dark Sister from his waist and used it to support himself as he tried to stand. But after a few steps, his legs gave out, and he sank down onto a reef.


    ��Hoo����


    Daemon sat there, resting his hands on the hilt of his sword, his forehead pressed against the cold metal. The chill of the Dark Sister sent a sobering pain through him, but no sound escaped his lips. His heart was a storm of emotion, yet his face remained impassive. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the sword, his eyes closed, waiting for the unshed tears to dry.


    The waterbirds, having eaten their fill, chirped merrily as they flew back to their nests. The setting sun dipped halfway below the horizon, splitting the sky and sea with a line of fire. Daemon sat in the deepening shadows, a dark figure against the dying light.


    tter...He didn��t know how long he sat there, but eventually, the wavespped at the beach.


    ��Daemon!��


    The Sea Snake��s voice cut through the sound of the surf. He leaped from a small boat and hurried onto the beach, ignoring the rolling waves. Daemon slowly lifted his head, seeing the Sea Snake��s wind-beaten and dust-covered face.


    ��Why are you here alone?�� the Sea Snake demanded, his voice filled with concern. ��Hasn��t Laena given birth yet?��


    ��She has,�� Daemon replied hoarsely, lowering his head again.


    ��What do you mean?�� The Sea Snake��s heart skipped a beat as a sense of dread washed over him.


    Daemon said nothing, only shook his head sadly.


    The Sea Snake staggered back, his expression shifting from concern to horror. His sharp mind quickly grasped the situation, and he realized the truth.


    ��How could this happen���� he muttered, his voice filled with disbelief.


    When he looked down again and saw Daemon��s lost expression, a surge of anger overtook him.


    Bang!


    He grabbed Daemon by the cor, lifting his sturdy frame off the ground. The Sea Snake red at him, his voice breaking as he shouted, ��What happened? Laena wrote to me just yesterday, saying she was returning to Driftmark!��


    His eyes reddened with grief. ��Say it! My daughter only said yesterday that she wasing home!��


    After a moment of violent shaking and shouting, Daemon finally regained a semnce of rity.


    ��She��s back,�� Daemon said quietly, his voice tinged with sadness. ��And she��s brought your grandson.��


    Bang!


    ��You damned bastard!�� the Sea Snake roared, punching Daemon and throwing him into the cold sea. Without a second nce, he turned and stormed back to the castle.


    ��Cough, cough����


    Daemon copsed, choking on seawater. As hey there, he watched the Sea Snake��s figure in the distance, first striding, then breaking into a run. He could still hear the man��s curses, loud and unrelenting, echoing across the beach. It was as if he had unleashed every curse he had ever known.


    ...


    In the blink of an eye, night had fallen. The cold wind swept across the beach, but it couldn��t dispel the heavy sadness that lingered there.


    Boom��


    A massive ball of orange and yellow dragonfire erupted into the sky, mingled with thick ck smoke. It turned into a towering bonfire that lit up the night, casting long shadows over the sands.


    Daemon stood at a distance, his eyes hazy as he watched the old dragon, Vhagar, unleash its mes. ��Roar!�� Vhagar��s mournful cry echoed as it crouched down, its massive body forming a protective wall as it escorted its master on this final journey.


    Daemon extended a hand, letting the sea breeze slip through his fingers. But a sudden squirming movement in his arms drew his attention away from the wind.


    He looked down at the infant cradled in his arms, curled up in a swaddling cloth. The baby��s face was a little pouty, its tiny mouth moving as if searching for something. Despite being born prematurely, the child looked healthy, with skin as soft and pale as an eggshell and sparse silver hair. Itsrge, lc eyes stared up at Daemon, full of life.


    Daemon was captivated, and without thinking, he offered his finger to the baby��s mouth. ��Ba-chii ba-chii~~�� The baby epted without hesitation, sucking on the salty fingertip while gazing up at its father with wide, curious eyes.


    ��Laena is gone,�� came a cold voice from behind. Rhaenys had approached silently. ��You need to take up the responsibilities of a father.��


    Daemon nced at her but said nothing. He could sense the me in her words��me for not fulfilling his duties as a husband.


    Rhaenys kept her gaze fixed on the distant mes, watching the dragonfire wane from its initial ze. She only turned to leave after a brief pause, offering a final reminder: ��It��s windy tonight. Don��t let the baby catch a cold.��


    Then she returned to the castle, leaving Daemon alone with the child. He remained rooted in ce, feeling the wet warmth of his fingers, as if he were thest person in the world.


    Rustle...


    Footsteps approached from behind, but the person did not speak. Daemon assumed it was Rhaenys, returning to take the children back to bed.


    ��Father,�� a small voice broke the silence.


    Daemon turned, surprised to see Ba standing there. ��Ba, why are you here?�� he asked, puzzled. She should have been put to bed by now.


    Ba didn��t answer, her eyes locked on his face. Daemon sighed, weariness evident in his voice. ��Go back to bed.��


    Still, Ba said nothing, her gaze intense. It was only then that Daemon realized something was wrong.


    ��I hate him!�� Ba suddenly cried, pointing at the baby in his arms.


    Daemon was taken aback, disbelief coloring his tone. ��What?��


    Ba��s voice was cold, her words sharp. ��You and that boy in your arms. You��re the ones who killed our mother.��


    Her usation cut through the night like a de. In her young mind, the death of her beloved mother was the result of her father��s desire for the son he now held.


    Tears welled in Ba��s eyes, but she held them back, her voice trembling with emotion. ��Now you��ve got what you wanted. I hope you��re satisfied.��


    With that, she turned and ran, not looking back.


    Daemon felt as though he had been struck by lightning, a heavy hammer dropped onto his chest. He watched, helpless, as his daughter ran further and further away��away from High Tide, into the night.


    ��Where are you going?�� Daemon called out, worry gnawing at him, but his pride kept him rooted to the spot.


    There was no response, only the echo of her footsteps fading into the darkness. Thest thing he heard, faint yet clear, was a defiant shout: ��None of your business!��


    ��Roar���� The old dragon let out a mournful cry, lifting its head toward the sky.


    Daemon froze, his hair whipping in the night wind, strands covering half of his face.


    Boom��


    A sudden gust of wind howled past, nearly knocking him over. Daemon stumbled, tightening his grip on the baby in his arms.


    ��Ho ho���� A familiar figure approached from behind, heavy breaths apanying each step.


    Daemon��s body stiffened, his eyes widening in surprise.


    ��I��m sorry to hear the bad news.�� Viserys��s voice was hoarse as he caught his breath, his concern etched into every word. ��My brother, are you okay?��


    Daemon��s mouth opened slightly, but no words came. They lodged in his throat, choking him with their weight.


    ��Ow!�� The baby squirmed and wriggled in its swaddling clothes, its high-pitched cries of difort piercing the air.


    Daemon barely registered the sound, his focus shifting from Vhagar, who continued to howl mournfully, to the massive bronze dragon that hadnded on the beach.


    ��Roar���� Vermithor��s eyes narrowed, pupils slitted with unease, as it stared at the old dragon. mes flickered deep in its throat, ready to unleash. Yet Vhagar paid no attention, lost in its sorrow.


    Normally, an unprovoked dragon like Vermithor would have roared and bared its sharp teeth. But tonight was different. Viserys nced back at Vermithor as they walked. ��Dragons have their own temperaments,�� he remarked. ��It��s been a long time since it flew.��


    Thanks to the special herbs retrieved by his eldest son, Viserys��s body and spirit had slowly begun to recover. But when he received the message from his youngest son, Daeron, he knew an irreversible tragedy had struck their house. A tragedy not unlike the one he had endured now befell his younger brother, Daemon.


    Daemon��s pupils trembled as he took a tentative step forward, cradling the baby in his arms. He moved toward his brother, one step at a time, the firelight casting their shadows together.


    One second, two seconds...


    The brothers drew closer, their figures merging as they neared each other.


    ��Brother���� Daemon��s voice quivered, and he copsed into Viserys��s arms, like a reed shaken by the wind.


    Viserys, though not strong, withstood the impact and wrapped his arms around his frail younger brother. They held each other tightly, just as they had when they were children.


    Daemon buried his face in his brother��s shoulder, his voice trembling, barely holding back the flood of emotions. ��She��s gone, just like your Aemma.��


    ��I know,�� Viserys replied softly, his voice heavy with sorrow. ��I know it all.�� He sighed deeply, as ifforting a child. ��Everything will pass.��


    Daemon��s breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling, barely able to stand. A hoarse growl escaped his throat. ��The gods are always so cruel�� But at least they left us hope.��


    Viserys tightened his embrace, feeling the warmth of his brother��s tears seep through to his chest. As he had said before: Time would wash away the sorrow, leaving those who remained to remember. At least, for the sake of their children, they could find hope again.


    ...


    A few dayster.


    Lys, Topless Tower


    ��Ahhh!�� A piercing scream echoed from one of the rooms.


    Maids hurried in and out, carrying basins of water and towels. Outside the door, Rhaenyra paced anxiously, her nerves fraying with every passing moment. The woman giving birth inside was Mysaria, the White Worm.


    Though only seven months pregnant, Mysaria was delivering early��before Rhaenyra herself.


    ��Ah! Push!�� Mysaria��s desperate cries rang out from behind the curtain, her voice filled with pain and determination. Rhaenyra couldn��t see through the thick fabric, but she could hear every agonizing sound.


    People from humble beginnings often possess a fierce resilience, and Mysaria was no exception. She had chosen to give birth in the bathtub, using the same method as her former prostitutepanions.


    ��Why is this taking so long?�� Rhaenyra muttered, sweat beading on her forehead as she turned restlessly outside the door. In the past, others had always waited for her during such moments, but now she found herself on the other side, waiting and worrying. The experience brought a new understanding of the anxiety that often apanied such situations.


    ��Wa wa wa~~��


    Just as she voiced her impatience, the cry of a newborn rang out. Rhaenyra paused, a smile spreading across her face. ��It��s born,�� she murmured with relief.


    After all, this was the child of her uncle Daemon, potentially to be incorporated into the Targaryen family tree. Mysaria, the White Worm, was also her trusted confidante, and the birth of this child meant an additional ally in her circle.


    Tap, tap��


    As she reached to lift the curtain and enter the room, hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. Ser Lorent of the Kingsguard rushed forward, clutching an opened letter in his hand. ��Your Grace, a letter from Driftmark!��


    Rhaenyra��s heart skipped a beat as she quickly took the letter, her joy giving way to sudden apprehension. She unfolded the paper, her eyes scanning the ck words on the white page.


    The letter detailed the events at Driftmark, and with each line, Rhaenyra��s joy evaporated. Her face turned ashen, and she felt the weight of despair settle over her. The words seemed to bleed with the sorrow of her dearest friend.


    ��Laena!�� she whispered, the letter slipping from her trembling hands. Her legs gave way, and she copsed backward.


    ��Your Grace!�� Ser Lorent cried out, rushing to catch her as she fell. He supported her, but Rhaenyra��s eyes were vacant, and her strength had deserted her. She could no longer stand.


    ...


    At the same time.


    The Vale, The Eyrie.


    Rhaegar stood by the tower window, draped in a loose robe, gazing out at the misty expanse below. The rebellion in Qohor had been quelled, and he had already sent word to the Vale that he would be arriving soon with his eldest son.


    Creak��


    The door opened behind him, and Jeyne entered, her expression grave. She clutched a piece of paper tightly in her hand.


    Rhaegar turned, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw her face. Without a word, she handed him the paper. Rhaegar took it, his heart pounding as he began to read.


    ...


    Behind the Bloody Gate, on the narrow path leading to The Eyrie...


    ��Roar!�� A young dragon with a silvery body soared overhead, disappearing into the misty heights of the Giant��s Lance.


    ��Prince!��


    ��Prince Baelon...��


    Dozens of nobles from the Vale cheered, pounding their chests in excitement as they watched the dragon��s flight.


    A carriage pulled up near the cliff, stopping at the path overlooking the Narrow Sea. The door opened, and Baelon, with his short silver hair glinting in the sunlight, stepped down onto the ground, carefully bncing on a stool.


    ��Come,�� he said, reaching back to help his sisters, Dany and Anna, down from the carriage.


    ��Brother, look!�� Anna, full of energy, pointed excitedly at the nobles who hade to greet them, her pale fingers trembling with enthusiasm.


    ��Shh, behave yourself,�� Baelon whispered, gently nudging Anna��s head. Taking a deep breath, he led his younger sisters toward the overly enthusiastic nobles. This was part of the n they had discussed with their father: by returning to the Vale with his sisters, Baelon would work to win over the nobles.


    ��Hooray, hooray, long live the Prince!�� The nobles of the Vale were ecstatic, thrilled to see the heir to the throne, who bore such a striking resemnce to the King in his youth.


    Some among the crowd, aware of the siblings�� unique bond, shouted excitedly, ��Hooray! Conqueror III!��


    Baelon��s expression darkened. Without a word, he hastened his pace, pulling his sisters along with him. The reference was to Conqueror I, known to all. Conqueror II was Rhaegar, who had emted the achievements and marriages of the original Conqueror, albeit with a hint of jest in the title.


    ��Roar����


    A light gray dragon shadow passed over their heads, its massive form stirring up thick clouds of fog. A young maiden with a crooked nose suddenly burst from the back of the group, waving a bamboo stick in her hand as she chased after the dragon. ��Stop, you little dragon!��


    The appearance of the maiden and her dragon silenced the nobles, their cheer turning into a momentary hush. But only for an instant.


    ...


    The Eyrie.


    Rhaegar stared at the letter in disbelief, his eyes wide with shock. He could scarcelyprehend the words before him.


    ��You never know what will happen in life,�� Jeyne murmured, gently leaning into her husband forfort.


    To think that someone so full of life and strength, a true dragonborn woman, could die on the birthing bed...


    Rhaegar��s throat tightened, and with great difficulty, he whispered, ��I saved her once.��

 Chapter 610: Roar of a Dragon

    Chapter 610: Roar of a Dragon


    Time flies.


    It is the early spring of 131 AC. King��s Landing, now entering its tenth year of a long summer, is alive with the sounds of birdsong and bustling activity.


    Mud Gate, the docks.


    ��Hurry up, don��t waste any time!��


    ��...��


    Merchant ships from all corners of the world dock one after another, their sails bearing the crests of distantnds. Merchants disembark eagerly, urging their sailors to unload the goods swiftly. Today marks the first day of spring, and word has spread that the king is hosting a grand banquet for all visiting guests. The merchants, keen to open new trade routes, reveal their impatience with everymand. ��Move faster, or you��ll all be fined!�� they bark, their faces twisted with urgency.


    Grumbling ensues.


    ...


    Dum dum dum!The bells of the Sept ring out, and the people in the city pause to cross their fingers in reverence. Meanwhile, attendants at the Red Keep rush back and forth, ensuring every guest is weed and entertained.


    Boom��


    Two massive golden beasts soar overhead, their passage stirring the wind and setting the bronze bells to chime, elevating the festive atmosphere to its peak.


    ��Roar!��


    A golden dragon streaks across Flea Bottom, its scales gleaming under the bright sun as it ps its pale pink wings. The majestic creature circles the city twice, a proud disy of power, before reluctantlynding.


    ��By the new gods!�� The elderly Lyonel stood in the courtyard of the Red Keep, a deep sigh of relief escaping his lips. ��Finally, someone hase to help me,�� he muttered, watching as richly dressed merchants streamed past him.


    Led by the royal bodyguards, the guests made their way into the Throne Hall and Banquet Hall, eager for the day��s grand events.


    ...


    At this time, in the Council Chamber:


    A group of senior advisers sat upright, their faces familiar and seasoned by years of service. Viserys, seated at the head of the table, took a sip of wine to break the silence. ��Rhaegar, the Small Council is about to begin.��


    Despite his advancing years, Viserys had recovered well after a long period of rest. Dressed impably, he concealed his receding hairline and unkempt stubble��a choice Alicent insisted upon, unwilling to let him neglect his appearance even as age took its toll.


    Across the table, the Sea Snake sat diagonally, his gaze fixed on the young king standing by the window. He toyed with a pale stone ball in his hand, its rhythmic clinking a sharp contrast to the tension in the room. His furrowed brow betrayed his impatience.


    ��I��ming, Father,�� Rhaegar replied, turning away from the window with a smile. ��Look outside��the city is aze with flowers and mes.��


    He had aged a few years, his demeanor now moreposed and reflective. The way he leaned against the window frame, tall and unyielding, suggested a calm that would not be shaken, even if the sky were to fall.


    Viserys raised an eyebrow, displeased by the choice of words. ��That��s not aforting thought.��


    ��But it��s true,�� Rhaegar countered, walking over to the council table. He pulled out the chair that symbolized royal authority and settled into it, a faint smile ying on his lips. ��As we both can see, a golden age is upon us.��


    The advisers exchanged nces, trying to discern the king��s deeper meaning. The Targaryens had conquered the three Free Cities of Myr, Tyrosh, and Lys, as well as the Stepstones, effectively controlling the shippingnes in the lower Narrow Sea. Over the years, these territories had generated wealthparable to decades of trade. Controlling the lower Narrow Sea was like holding a never-ending source of riches.


    Rhaegar leaned back in his chair and smiled. ��As is tradition, let��s discuss any challenges we��ve faced this year.��


    The harvests had been bountiful, and the treasury was overflowing with gold. The Sea Snake set down the stone ball, ready to speak when Tnd interrupted.


    ��Your Grace, I have something to report,�� Tnd said, seizing the moment.


    The Sea Snake rolled his eyes but remained silent, waiting for Tnd to finish.


    Tnd adjusted his garments, his expression serious. ��The economy of Vntis has always been stable, but recently, we��ve noticed some unsettling fluctuations.��


    ��Oh? Go on,�� Rhaegar said, intrigued.


    Tnd, the Minister of Civil Affairs and Regent of Vntis, was an experienced adviser with significant influence. His third son, Maekar, was studying under him, further solidifying his status as a loyal pir of the royal family.


    ��Your Grace, it appears this issue is tied to the resurgence of ver��s Bay,�� Tnd exined, his face darkening. ��ver��s Bay has long profited from the ve trade. Now, with its revival, they��ve begun aggressively dispatching ve ships to raid passing merchant vessels, aiming to rebuild their economy swiftly.��


    He continued, ��Once captured by a ve ship, merchants at sea face grim fates. At best, their goods and women are seized; at worst, the men are shackled and forced into hardbor in ver��s Bay.��


    Rhaegar nodded thoughtfully, stroking his chin. ver��s Bay had never been a simple threat. Its capture had once crushed the morale of the ve owners, but now it seemed they had been biding their time, preparing for a significant resurgence.


    ��Your Grace, I also have something to address,�� the Sea Snake interrupted, rising to his feet with a majestic posture.


    Rhaegar blinked, and with the recent rumors in mind, he could already guess what Lord Corlys was about to say. Tormund, the Master of Whisperers, nodded subtly in approval, ncing sideways at Rhaegar.


    Understanding the unspoken signal, Rhaegar smiled warmly. ��Please, Lord Corlys.��


    The old man had endured the loss of both a son and a daughter, and now his legacy rested on the shoulders of his grandchildren. Yet, despite his personal grief, he remained ambitious, intent on forging a new future. As the Master of Ships, Corlys Vryon had yed a crucial role in the kingdom��s maritime sess, with trade flourishing to the point that even ships from distant Asshai sailed thousands of miles to reach Westeros.


    ��Your Grace, my concern is closely tied to what Lord Tnd has just mentioned,�� Sea Snake began, his tone grave. ��You��re likely aware that not long ago, a brutal war erupted in the Basilisk Isles off the coast of Sothoryos. The bloodshed was immense.��


    ��Of course,�� Rhaegar replied, his expression darkening.


    The Basilisk Isles were notorious for being a haven for pirates, ve traders, and other unsavory characters��a chaotic and filthy ce. Two years ago, remnants of the Triarchy set their sights on thesewlessnds, aiming to im them. The scattered inds along the coast of Sothoryos were their prime target.


    However, the pirates and ve traders didn��t surrender easily. Although they eventually lost the Basilisk Isles, they continued to cause trouble in secret��fires, poisoned wells, and relentless sabotage. A formidable admiral, known as the ��Governor of The Summer Sea,�� emerged, leading raids on supplies meant for the Basilisk Isles. The conflict became a prolonged and bloody stalemate.


    ��The Governor of The Summer Sea is dead,�� Sea Snake announced, his voice low and somber. ��The remnants of the Triarchy have fully upied the Basilisk Isles. The Iron Bank lent them a vast sum of money, allowing them to purchase materials for fiftyrge ships from Pentos.��


    The Triarchy��s ultimate goal was to rebuild a free trade city on the continent of Sothoryos.


    Rhaegar��s expression remained unchanged as he asked seriously, ��What specific news do you have?��


    ��The Triarchy has enlisted powerful allies,�� Sea Snake replied, his face grim as he clenched his fists. ��The Ironborn from the Iron Inds have rallied under their king, Dalton Greyjoy, and joined the fight.��


    ��It��s said the waters of The Summer Sea have turned red with blood, and thousands of sharks have lingered in the aftermath,�� he added, his voice heavy with the weight of the news.


    Rhaegar frowned slightly and nced at Tnd and then at Otto Hightower, who sat second on his right.


    Tnd, looking puzzled, responded innocently, ��My brother hasn��t sent me any news. He��s too preupied with his own pleasures.��


    Otto Hightower, his temples graying, stood up and spoke quietly, ��The Ironborn are a treacherous people. The young Lord of Oldtown was too intimidated to stop them.��


    ��The Ironborn have crossed The Summer Sea, and Oldtown is focused on defending itself,�� Rhaegar��s eyes grew darker, though he chose not to press the matter further..


    He had known about the Ironborn uprising for six months, but since they hadn��t attacked Lannisport or plundered ships in the Narrow Sea, few had taken the threat seriously. Rhaegar had anticipated trouble, but he never imagined the Ironborn would involve themselves in suchplex diplomacy.


    ��Thank you for your counsel, Your Grace,�� Otto said seriously, his tone casual but firm. ��Dalton Greyjoy is a naturally wicked man. After the Great War, he passed through the Summer Isles, ughtering most of the poption to resupply his fleet. Such behavior is beyond reprehensible.��


    Rhaegar could no longer remain seated, his concern finally pushing him to act. Beyond the three continents of Westeros, Essos, and Sothoryos, many inds dotted the world��s oceans. Among them, the Stepstones and the Summer Isles were the most prominent. The Summer Isles, located in The Summer Sea, were north of the Arbor, which belonged to House Redwyne, and were surrounded by vast oceans on all other sides.


    Rich in tropical resources and minerals, the inds were inhabited by tall, dark-skinned people. Though their civilization was rtively primitive and isted, they had now suffered a terrible and undeserved fate.


    The Sea Snake continued, his voice seething with fury. ��Dalton Greyjoy is a natural-born brute. He earned the name ��Red Kraken�� in his teens, and now he��s been raiding merchant ships near the Stepstones under the banner of the Alliance.��


    He��s taken refuge with the Kingdom��s enemies and dared to plunder ships belonging to House Vryon. Both offenses are equally serious and a direct challenge to the Sea Snake.


    Corlys Vryon, though advanced in age, was far from ready to be disrespected by a young upstart like Dalton Greyjoy.


    ��He is indeed a troublesome and ruthless character,�� Rhaegar mused, his mind already turning over possibilities. ��Aunt is on Driftmark Ind. In a few days, she��ll apany me to Sunspear, and on the way, we��ll pay a visit to this Red Kraken.��


    Dorne remained mired in civil unrest, split between its eastern and western factions. Prince Qyle, a loyalist to the crown, had been seeking support. Rhaegar had also been concerned about the wild dragon Uragax, currently on the continent of Sothoryos, and he intended to check if its injuries had healed. Wild dragons like Uragax were particrly cunning and even more ruthless with their own kind. Uragax��s stunted growth meant it would take longer to recover, and once healed, it might migrate to Dragonstone to nest.


    Moreover, the Master of Whisperers had heard rumors from fishermen who imed to have seen arge white dragon near the Sea of Dorne. Though the morning fog had obscured their view, they were adamant about its size. The only dragon likely to roam near the Sea of Dorne was the light silver Seasmoke, but Seasmoke was a fourth generation dragon, not nearlyrge enough to be described as ��very.��


    Rhaegar feared that a wild dragon might be causing trouble and was determined to investigate. Dealing with Dorne, the remnants of the Triarchy, and the Red Kraken could all be managed along the way.


    ��Your Grace is wise,�� the Sea Snake said, satisfied with the n as he took his seat.


    Rhaegar smiled slightly, his mind still pondering the many challenges ahead.


    ��Your Grace, there is also the matter of Vntis,�� Tnd interjected, standing quickly. ��If we allow ver��s Bay to continue its unchecked plundering, trade will copse.��


    Vntis was alreadygging behind the three Free Cities across the Narrow Sea in terms of trade. If this continued, Tnd��s position as Regent of Vntis would be in jeopardy.


    Rhaegar sighed, clearly frustrated. ��Lord Tnd, the resurgence of ver��s Bay is inevitable. At most, I��ll order Aegon to patrol the area on dragonback for a while, as a warning to the vers.��


    While many of the plundered merchant ships weren��t from Westeros, ver��s Bay remained a lucrative hub with a virtual monopoly on the ve trade. Rhaegar had no intention ofunching an attack, preferring instead to infiltrate external forces. The truth was, his House was both too strong and too weak.


    They were strong enough to upy the three Free Cities and Qohor across the Narrow Sea, effectively doubling the kingdom��s territory. But they were weak in that there were too few dragonriders to hold even morend. They could only watch as other ambitious powers rose.


    Rhaegar shrugged. Expanding the kingdom��s power from its current territory would take at least another decade. But when his many children grew up, they would bring the world ��a little�� shock.

 Chapter 611: Baelon and Silverwing

    Chapter 611: Baelon and Silverwing


    The meeting was drawing to a close. The advisers filed out, each lost in their own thoughts.


    "Lord Corlys," Rhaegar called out, smiling at the striding figure at the front of the line.


    The Sea Snake paused, puzzled. "Yes, Your Grace?"


    "Let''s talk for a moment. It''s about the Stepstones." Rhaegar waved his hand, signaling for the other advisers to leave them.


    Sea Snake frowned but followed dutifully. In no time, they came to a halt around the corner. Rhaegar''s smile faded, and he got straight to the point. "Peace reigns in the Seven Kingdoms, but not in Essos and Sothoryos, where bandits and pirates are everywhere."


    "Trees attract wind. It''s a natural phenomenon," Sea Snake replied, drawing on his vast experience with political struggles. "When you''re on the edge of the Storm, you have to be prepared at all times."


    The world had changed beyond recognition. Westeros was united, with the Seven Kingdoms now pledging allegiance to House Targaryen. House Targaryen also controlled the Narrow Sea coast and the Forest of Qohor in the heart of Essos. Yet, the kingdom��s power made it a target.


    The Free Cities, led by Braavos, had formed an alliance, ndering House Targaryen and inciting the people of Essos to rise against the ancient Valyrian Dragonlords who once enved them. Meanwhile, the continent of Sothoryos remained a barbard where the remnants of the Triarchy had rebuilt the Three Cities Alliance. If left unchecked, they too could be a serious threat.


    Rhaegar saw the entire picture clearly and didn''t hesitate to point out the dangers. "Aegon wrote to me that a group of pirates has risen in the Stepstones, likely mercenaries from the remnants of the Triarchy."The Triarchy had been torn apart by internal strife, with the powerful and wealthy at odds with the ve owners and mercenaries. The sellswords, uninterested in rebuilding cities that weren��t theirs, had plundered ships and wealth before fleeing to the Stepstones, where they caused trouble. Their location was advantageous, stuck between the Narrow Sea and the only passage to Sothoryos, ensuring they could always find enough to sustain themselves.


    Rhaegar''s voice hardened. "I won''t tolerate anyone acting recklessly in my territory. Their presence has seriously affected maritime trade."


    "I want you tomand the fleet of House Vryon and regrly clear them out."


    The Sea Snake regained hisposure. "No problem, Your Grace."


    He would send Addam to deal with the threat and prove to the world that House Vryon was still formidable. That little red Kraken was nothing but a sh in the pan.


    Rhaegar smiled slightly and offered his support. "Call Daeron. His dragon is ready for battle."


    "Yes, Your Grace." The Sea Snake allowed himself a smile at the mention of ''bold Daeron'' and dly epted the king''s goodwill.


    After losing his son and daughter, House Vryon had fallen from power. But thanks to his granddaughter Rhaena and Daeron, the Cupbearer, the two young dragonriders had kept the family''s name alive. Vryon had proved it was still relevant to the kingdom.


    ...


    Midday had passed.


    In the Dragonpit, sunlight streamed through the drawbridge, casting diamond-shaped slivers of light across the magnificent hall. The Dragonkeepers, serious-faced and disciplined, stood in two rows, each holding a bamboo staff.


    Baelon stood at the center, his head held high with pride. Behind him, a boy and a girl stood on either side, both with silver hair and purple eyes. Their fair, innocent faces suggested they were no more than three or four years old.


    A low rumble echoed through the hall. As the Dragonkeepers began their hoarse chanting, a dull thud resonated from one of the dragon pits. The pit itself was dark and gloomy, with the vague outline of something massive looming indistinctly within.


    Baelon stared straight ahead, holding his breath.


    Boom.


    The ground trembled slightly, like the beat of a heavy drum.


    "It��s here." Baelon��s body tensed as he saw the slender, horned crown emerge from the shadows, reminiscent of his mother��s dragon, Syrax. Arge, powerful wing extended, gripping the Dragonstone floor.


    ��Brother...�� The girl''s voice trembled as tears welled in her eyes. She clung to the boy next to her, sobbing. The boy��s small mouth quivered, and he couldn��t hold back any longer. The next moment, the siblings, who looked nearly identical, broke down, hugging each other and crying hoarsely.


    Baelon, at this moment:...


    "Roar..." The dragon, halfway emerged, paused suspiciously as if sensing the children''s distress.


    ��It��s okay, it��s okay, Daddy��s here!�� Aegon suddenly appeared, scooping up the two precious children in his arms.


    "Woohoo..." The siblings wept, burying their faces in their father��s chest as they wiped away their tears.


    Baelon, stunned and frustrated, used, ��Uncle, you��re disturbing me.��


    The three siblings were supposed to see dragons, and the one capable enough would tame it. But now...


    ��Tough luck, eldest nephew,�� Aegon said, his face thick with an almostical smugness. ��I can��t just let them cry, can I?��


    ��You...�� Baelon was momentarily speechless, angered by his uncle��s brazenness.


    While the uncle and nephew exchanged words, Rhaenyra approached gracefully, interrupting. "Pay no attention to him. Idiots will drag your intelligence down to their level." She had just dismounted from her dragon and was dressed in a ck, scale-like dragon-riding suit. Her silver braids tied back, she exuded a heroic air ofpetence.


    ��Fine,�� Baelon muttered, lowering his head. Looking at his childish, giggling uncle, he added helplessly, ��You��re right. He��ll still outmaneuver me with his tricks.��


    Rhaenyra smiled. "Silverwing is a good choice. Have you made up your mind?"


    Baelon was momentarily speechless.


    ��Roar!�� The long-awaited Silverwing finally emerged from the dragon pit, its two pairs of backward-extending horns towering high. The dragon let out an annoyed roar at the crowd.


    Covered in emerald green scales, with two sturdy silver-gray wing membranes, Silverwing��s fearsome head tilted upwards like a mountain. The dragon bore the marks of many battles��dents on its neck and a broken horn��but despite the scars, its silver-gray wings remained in perfect condition, exuding a sense of majestic, ruined beauty.


    Baelon was mesmerized, struggling to find the words to refuse. Otherwise, he wouldn��t have been lured by his good uncle Aegon to tame the dragon.


    ��I have to go. I can��t stay until the end of the banquet,�� Aegon said with a grin. He kissed the pair of children in his arms and beamed, ��Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, say goodbye to everyone.��


    ��Bye...�� The two little ones obediently waved their hands as they nestled in their father��s arms.


    ��Good boy, you��re so clever.�� Aegon, whether anyone responded or not, joyfully carried his children out of the hall.


    Rhaenyra sighed, cing a hand on her forehead, too weary to pay her half-brother any more attention. He let the Stepstones go unmanaged, spending his days indulging in pleasures with his wife and children.


    The children bore the Targaryen name, born of Aegon and his concubine Daena. Though Rhaegar refused to acknowledge Daena��s illegitimate dragonlord surname, it didn��t change the fact that the two children were half Targaryen and half Aethyrys.


    It was an unconventional marriage that had brought fresh blood into the family.


    ...


    Red Keep, Council Hall.


    Rhaenyra, still d in her dragon rider''s attire, arrived with Baelon.


    Creak.


    The door swung open from the inside, and Tnd stepped out carefully, his meticulouslybed golden hair gleaming in the light. He maintained a polite smile but didn��t forget to turn back and remind, ��Your Grace, I will inform Prince Aegon that he should apany me to ver''s Bay.��


    ��Lord Tnd?�� Baelon greeted, curious. "What are you doing in ver''s Bay?"


    Tnd then noticed the Queen and the Heir Prince. He hurriedly bowed, smiling sheepishly. ��Nothing, just... fighting crime.��


    ��I see,�� Baelon replied, deciding not to press further. He then added, ��When you return to Vntis, give Maekar my regards.��


    Baelon��s younger brother was far away overseas, and Tnd rarely had the chance to see him.


    Tnd��s expression suddenly grew serious. ��I will make sure he gets the message.��


    With that, Tnd departed, a relieved look on his face. After the morning meeting, overseas advisers like him and Otto would have to take the ship back, a far morefortable journey than remaining in King''s Landing.


    ��Stop staring; your father is getting anxious,�� Rhaenyra said, gently ruffling her eldest son''s hair. She suddenly realized he had grown to chest height. As a teen, he was even sturdier than Rhaegar had been at the same age, a testament to his exceptional talent.


    ...


    Entering the council hall, Rhaenyra''s eyes were drawn to the striking red carpet from Lys that covered much of the room.


    ��Mother!�� A little girl with silver braids sat on the carpet, dropping her toy in surprise.


    A soft thud followed as a white-haired child tumbled onto the carpet.


    ��Ow!��


    The baby, just one year old and still teething, had fallen and rolled over, her wide eyes filled with confusion.


    ��Visenya, what are you doing?�� Rhaenyra��s eyelids twitched as she quickly scooped up the dazed baby, brushing the dust from her tiny white clothes.


    Rhaegar, seated behind his desk, couldn''t help but shake his head at the scene. His third daughter had inherited Rhaenyra��s delicate beauty but, unexpectedly, had also inherited��and perhaps even surpassed��her mother��s spirited personality. She was a bit too rough around the edges.


    Visenya got up, patted the dust off her hands, and grinned. ��Aegor is so sturdy, and he already knows how to call me sister.��


    She then reached for the ��toy�� her brother had dropped and expertly cradled him in her arms.


    ��Ooh...�� Little Aegor��s eyes widened as he struggled weakly.


    ��Oww!�� Visenya opened her mouth wide and yfully nibbled on her brother��s tender cheek, enjoying the sensation of her teeth grazing his soft skin. She was careful not to go too far, leaving his face only reddened, with nosting marks.


    Rhaenyra couldn��t bear to watch any longer. She guided her youngest daughter to a corner and red at Rhaegar. ��You��re too indulgent with her.��


    ��Ahem...�� Rhaegar coughed to hide his embarrassment and joked, ��That��s not so bad. When Aegor grows up, he��ll definitely respect his sister.��


    ��That��s not funny. Aegor will be terrified.��


    Rhaenyra crossed her arms, looking ready to reprimand him. Rhaegar��s smile faded slightly under her gaze.


    "You��re not helping. A three-year-old and a one-year-old��they won��t understand reason."


    ��I don��t want to deal with you,�� Rhaenyra muttered, rolling her eyes, but then she broke into a smile. She moved closer, opened her arms, and hugged her brother, whom she hadn��t seen in a while.


    Rhaegar, full of questions, couldn��t help but ask, ��Are we done?��


    ��Yes, Qohor has all the supplies it needs,�� Rhaenyra replied, now at ease. She sat sideways on hisp, wrapped an arm around his neck, and beamed. ��Baelon contacted Silverwing. The female dragon is very fierce.��

 Chapter 612: Dragonclaw — A Gift of Valyrian Steel

    Chapter 612: Dragonw �� A Gift of Valyrian Steel


    As he spoke, the smile on his handsome face mirrored that of his daughter, Visenya. But mother and daughter were practically identical.


    Rhaegar sat up straight and, unexpectedly, asked, "Baelon, have you considered taming a dragon?"


    His eldest son had been resolute, repeatedly refusing to im the Grey Ghost over the years. Could it be that he could no longer resist the allure of dragon riding?


    "No, Father," Baelon replied, scratching his head with embarrassment. He muttered, "I just wanted to try. But Silverwing doesn''t seem right for me."


    Silverwing was a magnificent and formidable dragon, its gentle nature making it ideal for younger siblings. But Baelon couldn��t admit that his interest had been sparked by his mischievous uncle Aegon. It was too embarrassing to admit he��d been tricked by a fool!


    Rhaegar had anticipated this and sighed. "If you have the ability, you should have tamed a dragon by now."


    The other children had already be admired dragon riders, their names celebrated throughout the realm. In contrast, Baelon, the eldest, remained dragonless. Nobles across the kingdom had begun to gossip behind closed doors about a weak heir to the throne��a serious concern.


    "I��d still like to wait a bit longer," Baelon said, lowering his head and pleading softly, "Maybe not for much longer."


    Rhaegar rubbed his brow and said, "Then you must decide soon. Silverwing is in the Dragonpit, Iragaxys is on Dragonstone, and Vhagar and Seasmoke are roaming about, all in foul moods."There were only four unimed dragons left. With the Targaryen family flourishing and its descendants growing stronger, if Baelon didn��t act quickly, he would inevitably be surpassed.


    "I will, Father," Baelon said, nodding earnestly. He felt a sense of relief, as if he had been forgiven. Deep down, he knew that the day he would ride a dragon was approaching. The feeling grew stronger every day, gnawing at him like a persistent itch, leaving him a bit uneasy.


    Seeing his eldest son, who now looked like a child who had made a mistake, Rhaegar didn��t want to disturb his thoughts further. The Targaryens were a blend of madness and greatness, and their line produced geniuses who often strayed from the conventional path. Rhaegar himself had, at the age of six, dared to tame the Cannibal, a fearsome dragoneater. His eldest son shared that bloodline, and it wasn��t cowardice that held him back from taming a dragon.


    "Alright, let��s discuss some matters of governance," Rhaegar said, patting Rhaenyra��s slender waist, signaling that the children were still present.


    Rhaenyra smirked, stood up, and went to scold Visenya, who was using her brother as a cushion while ying. Poor Aegor, sitting obediently on the ground.


    With the children upied, the room cleared, and Rhaegar and Baelon were left alone. Rhaegar pulled out two letters and ced them on the table.


    ��What is this?�� Baelon asked as he approached.


    ��Government affairs��though I prefer to call them troubles.�� Rhaegar held up three fingers, then pushed the envelopes forward, his expression serious. ��You''re not young anymore, Baelon. It''s time you started sharing the burden.��


    ��Yes!�� Baelon responded eagerly, ready for the challenge.


    ��There are three matters. You can choose any one.�� Rhaegar��s gaze was intense as he pointed to the first envelope, revealing his trump card. ��The Red Kraken of the Iron Inds��a ruthless Ironborn who burns, kills, and plunders. Can you handle it?��


    Baelon was taken aback. ��A Greyjoy?��


    ��That��s right.�� Rhaegar��s face remained impassive as he waited for his eldest son��s reply.


    Baelon frowned, lowering his head in thought. The Red Kraken��s fearsome reputation had spread far and wide,manding thousands of Ironborn. Baelon had no dragon, no army. It was a battle he couldn��t hope to win.


    ��Forget it. Let��s move on.�� Rhaegar didn��t push him, picking up the second letter. ��The Wyvern eggs on Dragonstone have hatched again, and the Wyverns from the previous brood are now roaming free, causing havoc in the Crownds, Gulltown, and the Stornds.��


    ��I...�� Baelon��s forehead was damp with sweat. He couldn��t bring himself to ept the task. Wyverns were wild beasts with no intelligence. After hatching inrge numbers, they terrorized the people near Dragonstone, preying on herds. If this problem had been given to his younger siblings��Aemon, Maekar, or even Dany��they could have dealt with it, each with their own dragon, more formidable than any Wyvern.


    But Baelon...


    His disappointment was palpable as he muttered, ��I can��t.��


    Rhaegar��s expression remained unchanged as he reached for the third letter.


    ��Rhaegar!�� Rhaenyra��s eyes were full of concern, and she shook her head at him. Their eldest son had no dragon, and they had worked hard to raise him to be cheerful and generous. If pushed too hard, he might be another cruel Maegor.


    Rhaegar met her gaze briefly before turning back to Baelon. ��Keep your head up. There��s a third task.��


    Rhaenyra��s brows knitted as she started to protest.


    ��I said there��s a third task!�� Rhaegar��s voice grew louder, cutting off Rhaenyra��s words and startling Baelon, who had been staring at the ground in silence.


    Summoning his courage, Baelon gritted his teeth. ��The third task��I��ll do it, no matter what.��


    Even if it was difficult, even if it required a dragon, he would find a way. At worst, he��d seek out Silverwing and try to earn the dragon��s approval. He had to prove to his father��and to the world��that he was not a coward.


    Rhaegar chuckled. ��Old Tully has died, and his grandson Elmo Tully is set to inherit Riverrun. The royal family needs a representative to attend the funeral.��


    ��Huh?�� Baelon��s eyes widened in surprise. He had been prepared to make a great sacrifice, perhaps even risk being burned while taming a dragon.


    ��Silly boy, it��s not asplicated as you think,�� Rhaegar said, leaning back casually. ��But it��s not without its challenges either.��


    ��What should I do?�� Baelon asked, taking the task seriously.


    Rhaegar looked off into the distance, a touch of nostalgia in his eyes, before changing the subject. ��Do you remember the Song of Ice and Fire I told you about?��


    ��Of course.�� Baelon nodded. He had never forgotten such an important legacy.


    ��In the prophecy, it says that darkness and winter wille to the North.�� Rhaegar tapped his knuckles on the table, a hint of doubt in his voice. ��After ten years of long summer, does that mean the next winter will be even more severe?��


    To be honest, he had recently had a nightmare��one where winter hade, and darkness had swallowed thend. Upon waking, he consulted Varys and the Red Priestess, and both had given the same cryptic warning: ��When the water is full, it overflows; when it overflows, it must empty.��


    House Targaryen had reached unprecedented heights, and the kingdom was more prosperous than ever. But all signs pointed to aing test of fire and ice��one that would determine whether the Targaryens and Westeros could survive together.


    Baelon held his breath, listening intently.


    Knock, knock.


    Rhaegar stopped tapping his knuckles and made his decision. ��Forget the conqueror��s prophecy. Our house has always faced trials and tribtions.��


    The Free Cities of Essos, the remnants of the Triarchy��these were only the enemies they could see. Many more vultures were circling, eager to feast on the dragon��s remains. This was something they had to prevent at all costs.


    Meeting his eldest son��s expectant gaze, Rhaegar pushed an envelope forward, his voice grave. ��The Seven Kingdoms are too divided, and many nobles are duplicitous towards the royal family.��


    ��If disaster strikes, how will the Targaryens hold Westeros together?��


    ��Should I win over Lord Elmo Tully?�� Baelon touched the envelope, feeling a heavy sense of responsibility wash over him.


    ��No,�� Rhaegar replied, shaking his head seriously. ��Not just the Tullys. You must also win over the powerful nobles of the Rivends, ensuring their true loyalty to the crown��and to you.��


    Baelon was momentarily stunned. ��But they��ve always been loyal to the royal family. Your influence even exceeds that of House Tully.��


    Before his father had inherited the Iron Throne, his base of support had been in the Crownds, the Vale, and the Rivends. The old Lord Tully had been obedient, and the Rivends�� nobles had yed a major role in the campaigns against the Stepstones and the Triarchy. To this day, many widows and orphans remained in the Rivends because of those wars.


    ��Influence isn��t the same as control,�� Rhaegar said, his kind expression turning cold. ��The royal family must have control over the unstable elements.��


    Rhaegar had sought the counsel of Maesters, traveled to the East and West, and observed different systems of governance. He had learned that while the feudal system allowed for stable rule, it also made it easy for a monarch to be sidelined. In contrast, the more progressive parliamentary and federal systems of Essos centralized power but were gued by instability and frequent regime changes.


    ��We are descendants of Valyria, outsiders in Westeros,�� Rhaegar said, thinking deeply. ��This means the best option for the Targaryens is to integrate rather than disrupt the existing system.��


    Remaining rational, Rhaegar continued, ��There are nobles in every kingdom who do not fully respect the king��smands. Your task in the Rivends is to rally those loyal to the crown and suppress the neutral and wavering factions.��


    ��That will provoke a bacsh from the nobles,�� Baelon said, understanding the dangerous nature of the task. Nobles, when threatened, would fight back with all their might.


    ��Don��t worry,�� Rhaegar reassured him. ��With the royal family��s influence over the Rivends, it won��t be difficult to eliminate dissent. The Tullys, Strongs, and ckwoods are all loyal and powerful. With them leading, neither the crown nor the nobility will falter.��


    ��Rivends, Vale...�� Baelon muttered, suddenly thinking of his sisters Dany and Anna, who had returned to the Vale. Lady Jeyne was rumored to be hosting a grand event in Gulltown, and the sisters had been summoned.


    ��You��re thinking of something?�� Rhaegar asked, smiling slightly at the mention of the Vale. ��The Rivends and the Vale are perfect ces to strengthen central authority. In time, we��ll focus on the Reach and Stornds as well.��


    The most challenging regions would be the North, the Westends, and Dorne. If Baelon and Jeyne seeded, the Reach and Stornds would be manageable. As for the remaining three, Rhaegar wouldn��t hesitate to use dragons as a deterrent.


    In short, under Rhaegar��s reign, the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms would all face hardships.


    ��Yes, I can do it!�� Baelon��s enthusiasm surged, and he felt more than ready to take on the task.


    Rhaegar released the envelope, and Baelon quickly pulled it toward him. Rising to his feet, Rhaegar said, ��Lord Lyonel and his eldest son, Ser Harwin, will apany you. They��re nobles from the Rivends and can assist you in every way.��


    Then, as he walked out, Rhaegar added, ��Follow me. You��ll need to present yourself well when you��re away from home.��


    Baelon��s face lit up with joy, and he eagerly followed his father like a shadow.


    ...


    They left the house and headed to the King��s chambers. Rhaegar, calm andposed, opened the door to his private quarters. In truth, he rarely stayed here. Most nights, he spent in the Queen��s chambers, which had once been Rhaenyra��s Princess bedroom.


    As the door swung open, the sunlight was immediately blocked by heavy curtains. Rhaegar entered, his gaze fixed on a wall near the firece.


    ��Wow!�� Baelon��s eyes lit up as he followed his father��s line of sight.


    The wall was adorned with intricate carvings and frescoes, but what truly caught his attention was the row of Valyrian steel weapons hanging from top to bottom. Among them were the recast ��Dragon��s w,�� the ��Truefyre�� with its iid ming red heart, and ��ckfyre,�� the symbol of kingship. Beside them hung a spear known as ��Dawn.��


    Directly above the firece, there was an imposing dragon��s horn,pletely ck and toorge to be held by two people. Above the horn, a three-pronged arrow made entirely of Valyrian steel was disyed.


    Rhaegar raised his chin slightly and said, ��Choose one, my son.��


    Baelon��s excitement was palpable as he rushed to the firece, carefully examining each Valyrian steel weapon. The Truefyre was dark as night, with star-like patterns glittering on its de. The ckfyre, once wielded by the Conqueror, bore the weight of history.


    Baelon ran his fingers over each weapon before finally settling on the Dragon��s w. It was cold to the touch, with a de so sharp it could cut a strand of hair. The ck dragonbone hilt was carved into ws, gripping the rippling watery de.


    ��A symbol of fearless courage,�� Baelon murmured, his eyes resolute. With both hands, he lifted the ornate Dragon��s w. Turning to his father, he said, ��Father, I will take the sword you first chose.��

 Chapter 613: The Satisfied and Full Seasmoke

    Chapter 613: The Satisfied and Full Seasmoke


    Half a monthter...


    King''s Landing, Dragon Gate


    A white chariot rolled out of the city gates, led by royal knights bearing three red dragon banners. At the rear of the procession, Lyonel rode a tall horse, wiping sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. Close behind, Halwin, his face full of stubble, followed like a hunched-over ck bear.


    The horses'' hooves trampled the roadside grass as they headed toward the Rivends.


    ...


    Red Keep


    Rhaegar stood by the window, watching the procession fade into the distance. His eldest son had set off, challenging the nobles of the Rivends on behalf of the royal family��a disy of both personal honor and duty.


    "He''s a good boy, with a bit of nerve," Rhaegar murmured as he pulled the curtains closed, trying to hide the reluctance in his gaze. Baelon had the courage and sense of duty befitting a heir prince. His fair face, which bore a striking resemnce to Rhaegar''s own youth, often earned him extra paternal affection.


    ''I wonder if Maekar still has nightmares,'' Rhaegar thought, his heart stirring with longing for his third son, far away in Vntis. Maekar was a quirky little fellow��mischievous, yet endearing, and sharp-witted when it mattered. Of his nine children, Maekar resembled Rhaegar the most. Even Baelon, the eldest, and Aemon, the second eldest, who shared Rhaegar''s looks, could not match their younger brother''s character and approach to life. That was why Maekar had to stay in Vntis.''I should visit him sometime,'' Rhaegar reflected, sighing softly as he turned to face the wall adorned with a sculpted coitus fresco. The firece crackled, newly replenished with firewood, casting a warm light over the wall of collectibles. A row of Valyrian steel weapons gleamed��each one a priceless heirloom if taken beyond these walls.


    Rhaegar approached and lifted the dragonbinder horn hanging high with one hand. He, too, was preparing to set off��heading to Sothoryos in search of Uragax and the elusive wild dragon.


    "A wild dragon that exists only in fishermen''s tales is a headache," he mused, stowing the dragon horn. His hand lingered over Truefyre, a sword he had not used in a long time. After a moment of hesitation, he took down his ancestral de, ckfyre.


    With the Dragon Taming Whip and the Dragon Horn, Truefyre seemed redundant. This journey would take him through Sunspear, and it felt fitting to bring ckfyre, the symbol of royal power. Unsheathing the sword, Rhaegar smiled wryly. "Consider it a constion to Aegon the Conqueror."


    ...


    One day and nightter...


    By afternoon, the rain had passed, and the sky cleared.


    Boom!


    A massive ck creature soared over Shipbreaker Bay, its broad wings stretching like a curtain across the sky, breaking up the rainbow that had formed in the sunlight. On its back, Rhaegar closed his eyes, feigning sleep. He hadn��t slept well the night before��Storm��s End, gued by thunderstorms year-round, had left the bed damp and ufortable.


    It was unfortunate that Maris Baratheon had left just as they arrived, leaving Lady Elenda to host them.


    There was no alternative��the King always traveled in style, and Rhaegar, leading the Kingsguard atop his dragon, visited every noble family along the way. It was an exhausting endeavor.


    tter...


    Suddenly, a surge of waves sent a dazzling sh of pale silver leaping into the air.


    ��Roar!��


    The Cannibal, Rhaegar��s dragon, growled, sensing something unusual. Rhaegar, attuned to his dragon''s instincts, rolled over to investigate the situation below.


    ��Roar! Roar!��


    They were at the edge of the Sea of Dorne, where a pale silver dragon shadow skimmed the waves, chasing after two indistinct ck shapes. Rhaegar blinked in surprise and rubbed his eyes.


    Boom!


    A jet of orange and silver-gray dragonfire erupted, engulfing the two ck spots in an instant.


    ��Roar!��


    A shrill scream echoed for miles as the two wyverns, their wings ame, plummeted into the sea. These wyverns were notrge, only about five meters long, but once they fell into the water, they struggled desperately.


    ��Roar!��


    The pale silver dragon shadow soared above, its hooked hind legs piercing the spine of its prey as it flew toward the shore, as if it were catching fish.


    ''It really is Seasmoke,'' Rhaegar thought, frowning as he patted the Cannibal��s back, signaling to give chase. Dragons were territorial creatures, their intelligence rivaling that of humans.


    Seasmoke had hatched on Dragonstone and was tamed by the young Laenor before being brought to Driftmark. After Laenor��s death, the dragon had roamed, seemingly searching for its lost master. While the inhabitants of Dragonstone and Driftmark asionally spotted Seasmoke, the dragon had vanished from sight in recent years. Now, it appeared he was wandering near the Sea of Dorne once more.


    The two dragonsnded one after the other on the edge of the Rainwood in the early morning.


    Sizzling!


    Seasmoke lowered his head, tearing into the half-dead wyverns and gnawing on the sulent meat. A wisp of ash drifted by, causing his nostrils to re slightly.


    ��Roar!��


    Seasmoke suddenly raised its head, folding its wings protectively, and roared into the distance.


    The Cannibal''s cruel green eyes filled with indifference as it raised its head high, exuding a condescending air like that of a king.


    The two dragons faced each other, Seasmoke��s slight figure dwarfed by the Cannibal��s imposing presence.


    ��Roar...��


    The Cannibal let out a low, thunderous growl that shook the leaves above, a grim "smile" forming on its maw. Seasmoke''s vertical pupils shed with panic as it nced toward the smaller dragon, recognizing the threat.


    ��Quiet, Cannibal!�� Rhaegarmanded as he dismounted the dragon, stretching his stiff muscles. The difort in his back from a poor night��s sleep waspounded by the strain of climbing up and down the dragon��s massive body.


    The Cannibal was a testament to its ancient and noble lineage, growing rapidly and steadily. Since thest winter, it had reached an astonishing 180 meters in length. ording to his father, Viserys, the Cannibal was already on par with the decrepit Balerion, capable of crushing any other dragon in the House with ease.


    "Climbing a dragon is exhausting. I envy Aegon not having to worry about this," Rhaegar said with a heartyugh as he strode toward the dragon on the other side.


    Seasmoke, sensing Rhaegar''s approach, slowly backed up, a ball of fire building in its throat. But instead of aiming at the human, the dragon��s gaze remained fixed on the Cannibal with predatory intent.


    ��Lower your guard, Seasmoke,�� Rhaegar instructed in High Valyrian, his boots crunching on the thickyer of fallen leaves.


    ��Roar!��


    Seasmoke let out a low growl, wisely suppressing its dragonfire. Despite the putrid stench around him, the dragon recognized the human before him as a good person, someone it was still gically bonded to.


    Rhaegar approached, extending his palm toward the dragon. His voice was calm yet firm. ��Seasmoke, I know what you��re searching for, but he��s gone.��


    Poor cousin Laenor��he was never found. Even the Sea Snake and Aunt Rhaenys had given up hope, but Seasmoke remained loyal, still seeking its lost rider.


    ��Roar!�� Seasmoke''s roar echoed with sadness and anger.


    ��I know you can understand,�� Rhaegar said gently. ��Go back to Dragonstone or Driftmark and wait for your next rider.��


    Seasmoke shook its head in refusal, its massive body turning slowly. Rhaegar sighed. "If you stay, you��ll have to learn to avoid humans."


    Seasmoke tilted its head slightly, its thick tail swaying back and forth.


    Rhaegar met the dragon��s gaze, speaking sternly. ��Stay, and wait.��


    Seasmoke, a dragon with exceptional intelligence who had seen many battles, understood the words. No other dragon in the House had been tamed by any of Rhaegar''s younger children. Vhagar was too old, and the other dragons��Silverwing, Seasmoke, and Iragaxys��were not evenly divided among the heirs.


    ��Roar!��


    Seasmoke lowered its head meekly, its intent to nuzzle the human in front of it clear.


    ��I��ll take that as a yes,�� Rhaegar said with a smile, raising his palm to stroke the dragon''s chin, feeling the fine, sharp barbs. Seasmoke responded by lowering its neck further, like a child seekingfort.


    Rhaegar, a father early in life, recognized the emotion immediately. ��Good boy, you must have had a hard time over the years,�� he said softly, his voice warm and gentle��a rare disy of emotion. One hand ran along Seasmoke''s lower jaw, scratching an itch, while the other wrapped around the dragon��s muzzle, letting the scorching dragon breath wash over him.


    ��Roar...��


    Seasmoke slumped to the ground, its body tilting to the side as its amber eyes softened. The dragon��s beauty was undeniable, its well-proportioned form and light silver scales reminiscent of its mother, Dreamfyre. Seasmoke had an air of nobility and sanctity, a majestic presence from thest remnants of ancient Valyrian magic. It stood in stark contrast to the hideous Cannibal and the unusually evil looking Caraxes.


    ��Go ahead, eat your fill,�� Rhaegar said, dodging Seasmoke��s affectionate nudge as it tried to rub its muzzle against his cheek. He held the dragon''s head, looking at the two charred wyvern carcasses. The dragon��s scales were rough, irritating his skin. Unlike the Cannibal, which would have snorted arrogantly and tried to knock him over, Seasmoke��s touch was gentle.


    ��Roar!��


    One of the dragons, sensing its rider��s difort, let out a loud roar.


    ��Roar!�� Seasmoke responded, picking up one of the wyvern corpses and tossing it toward the other. It was as if the dragon was saying, "Take this and leave!"


    Rhaegar couldn��t help but smile, unable to suppress the amusement on his face. This was the difference between the older and newer generations of dragons��their emotions toward humans were more nuanced, more delicate. Just like Syrax and Sunfyre, their bond with their riders was something truly touching.


    ...


    It was growingte, the sky awash with the dusky hues of sunset.


    In the depths of the Rainwood, the ck dragon had already departed, leaving behind a slimy pile of dragon dung.


    ��Roar!�� Seasmoke, its wings brushing against the trees, took to the skies, heading toward the sea as it often did. Aside from Caraxes, known as the ��God of the Sea,�� Seasmoke��aptly named��seemed to love soaring above the waves more than any other.


    The scene shifts...


    The Boneway lies behind, with Summerhall visible in the distance��a magnificent pceplex, its white marble exterior crafted in a garden-like style.


    ��Roar...��


    The fiery clouds of dusk stirred violently as a dragon��s roar, deep and thunderous, pierced through the heavens.


    Boom!


    In the garden below, amidst intricately carved beams and painted rafters, a pale blue dragon lifted its head, its sharp pupils gazing intently into the distance.


    ��Keep your voice down, Dreamfyre,�� Hena admonished, her voice serious. She sat in a nearby pavilion, her blue skirt flowing around her as she spoke. Her beautiful face was marked with concentration, and her pale hands bore the embroidered patterns of arge ship crossing the sea.


    ��Mother,�� a young girl approached, cing her small, white hand on Hena��s calf. The girl was lovely, with honey-colored wavy hair and striking purple eyes. Her skin was a bit pale, and she was slender, her hair tied into two neat pigtails. She gazed up withrge, watery eyes, a backpack slung over her shoulder.


    Inside the pack was a pale purple dragon egg, its surface covered in fine scales. A faint crack had begun to form on the shell, hinting at the life stirring within.

 Chapter 614: The Young Dragon’s Flight Dilemma

    Chapter 614: The Young Dragon��s Flight Dilemma


    As night fell, the moon shone brightly in a sky scattered with only a few stars. Summerhall was peaceful, its pce aglow with light.


    ��Mommy, the eggshell is broken,�� the little girl announced, cradling a pile of pale purple eggshells in her arms.


    ��Roar...�� A newborn dragon, its body adorned with gorgeous purple scales and milky white horns, squatted in the corner, curiously peering around.


    Hena took a sip of wine, then bent down to pick up her daughter. ��Your young dragon has hatched. You can keep the eggshell as a souvenir,�� she said thoughtfully.


    ��Oh...�� The little girl looked slightly disappointed. She had grown fond of the round, warm dragon egg, which she could cuddle and sleep with without fear of being bitten.


    Rhaegar, observing the scene, smiled and suggested, ��If Daenaera likes, she can piece the eggshell together and keep it by her bed.��


    ��Yes!�� Daenaera��s eyes lit up as she pped her hands in approval.


    ��Alright, I��ll find a craftsman,�� Hena agreed, though she seemed a bit troubled. She handed her daughter over to Rhaegar and called out, ��Viserion,e and eat dinner.��


    Rhaegar naturally took Daenaera in his arms, tilting his head to let her nt a kiss on his cheek. She obliged, wrapping her arms around his head in a big hug.��Good girl. Remember to take care of your young dragon,�� Rhaegar beamed, the picture of a doting father, as he personally picked up food and fed it to her.


    Daenaera opened her small mouth and chewed slowly. She had always been a bit frail, with a paleplexion and a tendency to lose her appetite��traits that worried her parents.


    Across the room, Hena��s attempts to summon her son were met with little sess. Resigned, she lifted her skirt and walked away from the table. Rhaegar��s gaze followed her.


    ��Roar...�� In the corner, the young dragon raised its small head, nestled in a soft bed of stacked pillows. Next to it, a silver-haired boy with purple eyes squatted, engrossed in a book.


    ��Time to eat,�� Hena said, a note of exasperation in her voice as she gently pulled the somewhat tattered book from her son��s hands. The cover was intricately decorated with an image of a thousand ships sailing across the sea.


    ��I know, Mother,�� the boy, replied, his face sweet and innocent.


    ��You haven��t greeted your father yet,�� Hena reminded him, ruffling his hair as she helped him to his feet. She considered herself fortunate to have given birth to twins��a son and a daughter.


    The daughter had been bornst, named Daenaera by her father, Viserys, in honor of histe first wife Aemma Arryn��s mother. The son, born five minutes earlier, had been named by Hena herself to celebrate her father��s recovery and his reconciliation with her mother, Alicent.


    "Viserion,e to me," Rhaegar beckoned, motioning for the little one to sit beside him. He was, after all, immensely proud of his achievements.


    Jeyne had borne his first two children, while Hena had given birth to their fourth, a pair of twins.


    Rhaenyra had followed with Visenya, their third daughter, and by bringing their youngest into the world��a baby boy named Aegor, just over a year old.


    In all, there were nine children: five boys and four girls, all pure Targaryen blood. Excluding the stillborns, their survival rate alone had already surpassed that of his great-grandfather, the Old King, elevating the family''s power to new heights.


    "One step at a time, don''t be afraid," Hena whispered, winking as she took her son''s hand and led him to the table.


    Viserion lowered his head, his movements stiff, asionally stealing a timid nce at his father, who was nearby.


    "Come on, I''ve brought you a present," Rhaegar said with a warm smile, pulling out the fashionable toys he had prepared��dolls, precious stones, and other treasures.


    As the family''s territory expanded, greater control was required. Jeyne sat quietly in the valley, saying nothing. After Laena''s death, Rhaenys was lost and often traveled between King''s Landing and Lys.


    With Dorne''s persistent unrest, Hena temporarily resided in her fiefdom of Summerhall, forming alliances with House Tyrell and House Baratheon to garrison the border. The children had not seen their father in some time and were a bit distant from him.


    "Eat your vegetables, Father," Daenaera chirped, arching her head as she pushed a leaf of vegetables into Rhaegar''s mouth. Rhaegar opened his mouth and epted the hurried gesture of love. Across the table, Viserion��s envy flickered in his eyes as he quickened his hesitant steps. With Hena''s gentle guidance, he finally managed to sit next to his father, feeling both ttered and shy.


    "Choose a gift and see which one you like," Rhaegar encouraged, rubbing his son''s short silver hair. The little boy was introverted, rarely speaking as a child, often lost in a picture book biography. But Rhaegar saw this as a sign of inner beauty, cherishing his son��s quiet nature.


    "I want this one," Daenaera announced, climbing into her father''s arms and reaching for the table. Her small hands grabbed a dragon doll and a blue gem, recalling how her uncle had a blue gem in his eye socket that he never let her y with. ''Stingy!'' she thought.


    Rhaegar looked at his four children and encouraged them, "Choose one, you can take a few more as well." It had been two or three months since he hadst seen them, so he felt the need to offer something to win them over.


    "I..." Viserion hesitated, not moving among the pile of gifts.


    Rhaegar was surprised. "Don''t like it?" he asked.


    When he tried this before, Visenya was delighted and had even slipped a gem into her younger brother Aegor''s underpants, hoping to stash it away as a little piggy bank.


    "I like them!" Daenaera quickly answered, hugging the doll and gem tightly as she continued to pick out a small, rounded wooden sword.


    "Wait a minute, let your brother choose one too," Rhaegar said, wrapping his arm around his daughter like she was a little cat. He then looked over at his four sons, "Choose one, don''t be so shy."


    Viserion looked timidly at his father, his hand pausing in mid-air.


    "You can choose whichever one you like," Rhaegar said, his eyes bright with encouragement. He understood introversion��he had been rather withdrawn as a child himself. This was precisely why he had liked Maekar, who was also reserved, and why he treated Viserion with special care. Introverts often had their own ns in mind and were skilled at controlling situations.


    "I''ll choose this one," Viserion murmured, his eyes lingering on the wooden sword before finally reaching for an obsidian dagger.


    Rhaegar noticed his fourth son''s choice and gently intervened. "That''s a keepsake from the Dragonkeeper," he exined. "It''s not part of the gifts." He ced a firm hand in front of Viserion, signaling for him to hand over the dagger.


    Viserion hesitated, a flicker of panic crossing his eyes. Rhaegar remained silent, waiting to see how his son would respond. In his mind, there were only two possible oues.


    "Then, I''ll give it back to you," Viserion whispered, reluctantly returning the obsidian dagger and reaching for another ck crystal stone instead.


    Rhaegar''s forehead creased with frustration. He had expected his son to return the dagger and perhaps choose the wooden sword he had seemed interested in. Instead, Viserion opted for another crystal stone, further irritating his father.


    Suppressing his displeasure, Rhaegar''s gaze shifted to the small backpack slung over Viserion''s shoulders��a bag Hena had sewn for the children to carry their dragon eggs. At that moment, the knapsack appeared empty and dry, with no sign of the ck dragon egg.


    Rhaegar frowned. "Where is your dragon egg?" he asked, his tone serious.


    The dragon eggs for his four sons were still in the cradle, ced there by Rhaegar himself. They were eggs from Dreamfyre, the dragon whose egg had failed to hatch when Rhaegar was young. He had never felt a connection with that ck dragon egg, but since Hena had tamed Dreamfyre, it seemed only fitting that Dreamfyre''s egg should belong to her son.


    Viserion lowered his head and muttered, "I put the backpack with the books in it. The dragon egg is in the room."


    Rhaegar let out a deep breath, rising from the table. "I''m full," he said, his voice tight. "I''ll go put Daenaera to bed." With that, he scooped up his daughter, her round tummy resting against him, and left the table.


    As he walked away, frustration gnawed at him. How could his son, the child of the so-called "Cruel Rhaegar," be so timid? Viserion hadn''t even fought for what he liked. Not even the dragon egg��coveted by the world as a priceless treasure��could hold his interest like those picture books did.


    Once Rhaegar had left with Daenaera, Hena and Viserion remained alone at the table. Hena, with an innocent expression, scratched her loose bun andforted her son. "Don''t worry, he''s just angry."


    "I''m sorry," Viserion murmured, his lips trembling as he bowed his head in guilt. His father hade to visit for the first time in ages, and he''d only managed to make him angry.


    "It''s okay," Hena reassured him, swallowing a mouthful of roast meat. "It''s good to understand why he''s angry." She then stood, stretching a bit as she walked around the table. "You eat first, fill yourself up, and then go to your room to rest," she said, instructing the Dragonkeeper to tend to the young dragon in the corner before following her brother upstairs.


    Viserion watched, curled up in his seat, feeling more alone than ever. Once the young dragon was taken away, he was left in the empty hall by himself. His eyes fell on the book covers scattered across the table, stories of the legendary Rhoynar warrior queen, Nymeria, who had sailed with a thousand ships.


    Dong! The clock struck, and a bat-shaped pendant popped out from its box. Viserion stared at it for a moment, lost in thought. Slowly, he reached out his hands.


    "I''ll take this one," he murmured to no one in particr. He picked up the obsidian dagger his father had left behind and, with his other hand, grabbed the small, rounded wooden sword. His gaze dull, he pressed the two items against the pages of the book, lost in his own world.


    ...


    Attic, Princess''s Bedroom.


    "This child is weak and spineless, not of much use," Rhaegar remarked calmly, leaning against the window and gazing out at the night sky. Among his many offspring, few were as timid as Viserion. Even Aegor, his youngest son, whose milk teeth had yet to fall out, would bite back when his sister Visenya teased him too much. Viserion''s behavior tonight had left Rhaegar deeply disappointed.


    "Perhaps he just wanted to give his sister the gift he liked best," Hena suggested gently, sitting by the bed as she tenderly patted their sleeping daughter. Her perspective was different from her brother��s.


    Rhaegar, not in the mood to argue, sighed. "If he��s too afraid to express his love for something he truly desires, what great achievements can he hope to aplish?" His four sons would one day inherit Summerhall and be tasked with overseeing Dorne, The Reach, and the Stornds. How could he trust someone so timid with such responsibilities?


    Hena tilted her head, speaking with quiet wisdom, "Isn''t someone who is willing to make sacrifices even greater?"


    "Hm?" Rhaegar paused, then chuckled helplessly. "You''re right. I hope I��m wrong."


    At three years old, Viserion''s personality was already forming. If all else failed, Rhaegar considered bringing Viserion to King''s Landing to spend more time with Baelon. Perhaps his eldest son''s courage could help sharpen the boy. Ultimately, it was Rhaegar''s neglect that had left his son so vulnerable. Reflecting on this, he felt a sense of relief.


    Hena blinked and suddenly said, "Aemon hasn''t been back in a long time." She believed her son was destined for greatness, that the throne in her dreams belonged to him. But she knew Rhaegar wasn��t interested in discussing it, so she shifted the conversation to something that might hold his attention.


    Rhaegar sat back on the edge of the bed, replying cautiously, "Qohor is at war year-round. Aemon has to stay and defend the realm."


    "His fiefdom is in Stonehelm," Hena countered, her tone indifferent.


    Rhaegar snorted. "Tell him that. See if the boy is willing to give up Qohor."


    Qohor was a hotbed of conflict. Situated in the vast Forest of Qohor on the eastern continent of Essos, it was and rich in resources��forestry, animal husbandry, fishing, and farming. An extinct volcano outside the city also made it an ideal ce for dragons to dwell. After Aemond took control of Qohor, he faced attacks from the remaining Free Cities of Braavos, Pentos, Norvos, and Lorath. Only four of the Nine Free Cities remained, and none were willing to allow House Targaryen to upy Qohor unchallenged.


    This struggle was the cause and core of the ongoing war. Even their uncle, Daemon, had ridden Caraxes into battle for this critical territory, which would determine whether House Targaryen could establish a stronghold on the maind of Essos.


    Rhaenyra went to Lys to gather supplies to support the battlefield in Qohor. The remaining Free Cities clung desperately to their positions, fearing that if they relented, they would eventually be annexed by the Targaryens.

 Chapter 615: The Old Dragon Forced to Relocate

    Chapter 615: The Old Dragon Forced to Relocate


    The next day...


    As dawn broke, a ck dragon erupted from the garden of Summerhall. It crossed the Boneway and soared over the Sea of Dorne, where the wreckage of broken ships piled up along the shores.


    ...


    Coastal area of Sunspear City.


    The fishermen quietly set sail, hoping to catch fish and shrimp in the early morning calm.


    Boom.


    A massive ck creature flew past, its wide wings casting a shadow that swallowed the sky, like a thick, dark cloud blotting out the sun.


    "A dragon!"


    The fishermen screamed in terror, abandoning their boats and leaping into the sea. The fear instilled by the Dragon''s Wroth ten years earlier still haunted their memories, passed down even after two generations."Roar..."


    Luckily, the fierce beast only skimmed the coast of Dorne, continuing its flight toward the junction of the Narrow Sea and the Summer Sea.


    High above, Rhaegarughed and patted the dragon��s neck. "You scared them, Cannibal."


    "Roar!" Cannibal let out a low, rumbling roar, its chest rising and falling as it picked up speed. The man and the dragon had risen early to bid farewell to the beautiful surroundings of Summerhall.


    This was merely a detour, as Rhaegar paid a visit to Hena and her two children. The mother, son, and daughter were no ordinary family; they bore the burdens of House and Kingdom alike.


    Margaery, the Little Rose of Highgarden, and Maris Baratheon of Storm''s End��both close friends of Hena��stood by her side. Together, the three women supported one another, uniting The Reach and the Stornds, and for years, they safeguarded the Dornish Marches.


    The civil war in Dorne raged on, with the rebels, known as the "Greenblood Orphans," mastering the art of guerri warfare, striking swiftly and vanishing just as fast.


    Led by Prince Qyle of Sunspear, they blocked The Prince''s Pass and the Boneway, confining the rebellion to the barren deserts of western Dorne, whenever the rebels attempted to storm the passes, it was Hena who drove them back with Dreamfyre, maintaining the fragile peace in the Dornish Marches.


    "After we return from Sothoryos, we''ll take the children back to King''s Landing for a while," Rhaegar said, breathing in the cool sea breeze as he resolved his thoughts. His children could grow to be dragons or mediocrities, but they would never be sheep.


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, a thunderous dragon roar echoed across several nautical miles, radiating boundless fury.


    "Cannibal!" Rhaegar eximed, startled. He quickly steered the dragon toward the source of the roar.


    Cannibal��s glowing green eyes narrowed, its thick neck twisting as it pped its wings and sped eastward. Soon, small inds began to dot the vast sea ahead, and a cluster of ring mes came into view, apanied by billowing smoke and distant screams.


    "Roar! Roar!"


    A pale silver dragon shot into the sky, pping its wings with a mournful cry.


    "The Triarchy pirate ship!" Rhaegar recognized the burning vessel at once, along with the scorched and melted scorpion crossbows on its deck.


    "Roar!"


    Seasmoke circled low, a gaping hole torn in its right wing membrane, blood trickling from the wound. Rhaegar frowned as he watched the pale silver dragon ascend into the clouds and vanish from sight.


    This was near the Stepstones, the treacherous waters lying between the Narrow Sea, the coast of Dorne, and the Summer Sea. The inds were loosely garrisoned between Bloodstone and Grey Gallows, leaving the edges vulnerable. ve ships, stowaways, and pirates often bypassed the garrison, sneaking through these waters unnoticed.


    It was unfortunate for this Triarchy pirate ship to have crossed paths with Seasmoke, which had been roaming the area. Seasmoke might not recognize the banners of House Targaryen or House Vryon, but it surely remembered the foul stench of the Triarchy pirates. Its first flight had been during the first battle of the Stepstones, a conflict that had dragged on for years.


    As Rhaegar looked down, he saw that the pirate ship had burned to the waterline and was sinking, while several smaller ships remained intact nearby. One of these ships flew the sails of a Harpy, clearly marking it as a ve ship from ver''s Bay.


    Rhaegar��s eyes gleamed with the temptation to set it aze. But just as he was about to act, a group of dark-skinned people emerged from the ve ship, waving white gs in surrender.


    "Indigenous people of the Summer Isles?" Rhaegar muttered, intrigued. He had heard that the people of the Summer Isles were often enved, valued for their strength, robustness, and resistance to illness. Grey Worm had once mentioned that half of the Unsullied in any given training cohort came from Summer Isles stock. However, their natural resistance to discipline meant that their survival rate in the harsh training was low.


    Now, these dark-skinned natives fell to their knees on the deck, pleading for mercy in broken Valyrian. It was clear they had been coached by the cunning ve traders.


    Rhaegar hesitated, pondering for a moment. He did not give themand for "Dragonfire." Instead, he decided to let them go and return to ver''s Bay. Perhaps it was better to give them a chance at survival there rather than consign them to death by dragonfire.


    With a final nce, Rhaegar looked away. "Let''s go, Cannibal."


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal��s eyes remained cold and indifferent, not sparing the pitiful creatures below a second thought as it turned and flew straight toward the continent of Sothoryos.


    ...


    The man and the dragon soared away, disappearing into the horizon.


    Meanwhile, a few ve ships sent crews to salvage the gold and silver treasures from the smoldering remains of the pirate ship. After hastily dividing the spoils, they set sail, eager to escape before trouble found them.


    Three ships crossed the Narrow Sea, making their way back to ver��s Bay on the distant shores of the Eastern Continent. One ship, however, veered off course, choosing to sail independently. It bypassed the endless coastline of Dorne and ventured into the Summer Sea, heading toward Oldtown.


    The sea breeze whipped fiercely, and the ship sliced through the waves with determination. Below deck, in the cramped, dimly lit cabins, men, women, and children huddled together, their clothes ragged and their faces etched with despair. On this vessel, their origins and races meant nothing; they were all ves, subject to the whims of their captors.


    ��Brother,�� a voice called softly.


    By a small, barred window, a young man with white hair crouched, his arms wrapped tightly around his legs. His ordinary features were marked by a pair of deep blue eyes that seemed out of ce in their vividness.


    ��Don��t worry,�� said another, his tone reassuring. The older man, with silver-blonde hair and a serious expression, pulled his younger brother close. ��We��re not being taken to the ruins of the Old Empire of Ghis to rebuild the ve cities.��


    The young man tilted his head back, his white hair brushing against his brother��s chin as he reached up to stroke the stubble there. ��I heard the dragon��s roar. It was thrilling.��


    The silver-blonde man lowered his head, his eyes filled with longing. ��A living dragon�� that��s incredible!��


    ...


    It was nearing noon in the Green Hell of Sothoryos.


    "Roar..."


    The fearsome dragon, 180 meters long, stood imposingly, its pitch-ck scales gleaming with a metallic sheen under the harsh sunlight. Its massive jaws mped down on a green-spotted wyvern, tearing into the struggling creature as its feeble chirps faded into silence. Sharp ws ripped open the wyvern��s belly, spilling its innards onto the jungle floor.


    At the edge of this gruesome hunting scene, Rhaegar, d in a ck robe, knelt by a campfire, roasting a skewer of fruit. He had recently returned from the Basilisk Isles, where the stench of parasites still lingered in his memory, feeding off the cries of the starving. The inds were now under the control of the remnants of the Triarchy, who had reced the ve traders and smugglers. Only the unfortunate prostitutes had been spared; no one would bother to drive away those who sold their bodies for survival.


    Rhaegar''s inspection had revealed that the Basilisk Isles had be a stronghold for Triarchy pirates, serving as the first line of defense against foreign threats. Meanwhile, three new Free Cities had sprung up along the coast of Sothoryos. These were based on the Isle of Tears, the Isle of Axe, and the Isle of Naath.


    The Isle of Tears, hidden behind the Basilisk Isles, was a swampy, muddy ce, once home to the now-ruined colony of Gogossos, abandoned by both Valyria and the Old Empire of Ghis.


    The Isles of Axe and Naath were located on the eastern coast of Sothoryos. The Isle of Axe, shaped like its namesake, had been visited by Nymeria during her legendary voyage, though pirates had driven her away. Naath, independent of the maind, was situated in the southwestern corner of the Basilisk Isles, surrounded by satellite inds rich in resources.


    The Triarchy had chosen their locations well for rebuilding the Free Cities. If all went ording to their n, they could establish a new Triarchy, one that might rival the previous empire.


    "But it won��t go well," Rhaegar murmured, his thoughts turning to the prospect of colonizing Sothoryos. Thest time they had conquered ver��s Bay, their hold was fleeting, and they hadn��t even had time to divide thend among nobles. It would not be easy for the Triarchy to establish a strong foothold on this hostile continent.


    "I need to rethink our strategic goals when I return," he muttered to himself. The ongoing war in Qohor had already drained the kingdom, yet it was a fight they could not afford to abandon. If they shifted their focus to Sothoryos, they risked being drawn into a war on two or even three fronts.


    "A House Council is necessary," Rhaegar decided, determined to prevent his enemies from gaining any advantage, even at the cost of economic growth.


    Boom.


    A gust of wind swept through the jungle, the moss-covered canopy shuddering with the reverberation of a dragon��s roar. Rhaegar looked up to see a massive beast flying low overhead.


    "Roar..."


    Uragax, the old dragon, stretched its neck and let out a low, rumbling growl at the Dragoneater below. The foul stench of the dragon��s breath reached Rhaegar even from a distance.


    "Roar..."


    The gluttonous dragon howled in return, its malicious green eyes filled with hatred. Rhaegar shook his head, choosing to ignore the simmering enmity between the two beasts.


    The more time he spent with them, the more he realized that Uragax was a wise, ancient dragon, indifferent to most things and content to stay within its territory. It was Cannibal who was vicious by nature, hostile toward all dragons.


    No dragon that had crossed paths with the Dragoneater had escaped without knowing fear or hatred. Its fighting style was brutal�� a heartless predator that preyed on its own kind, striking at their weakest points.


    "Uragax, when you��re healed,e with me!" Rhaegar shouted into the sky, casually tossing the charred fruit skewer aside.


    Boom.


    The only response was silence, save for the dry leaves and dust kicked up as the old dragonnded.


    "Roar..."


    Uragax shook its massive head, and its tworge, curved horns sliced through tree trunks, carving a battered path through the dense forest. Rhaegar stood before the old dragon, weing the scorching breath that washed over him, and the shadow that gradually engulfed his form. The dragon, though aged and battle-worn, was still a formidable presence, its sheer sizemanding awe. If it were pitted against another, even Vermithor, the Bronze Fury and thirdrgest of the house, would struggle to match it. Only Vhagar might stand as its equal.


    Rhaegar��s eyes gleamed as he raised his hand high. "Uragax,e back to Dragonstone with me."


    "Roar..." The old dragon lowered its head in silence, resting its rough jaw in Rhaegar��s palm as it slowly eased its mountain-like body down to the ground. At that moment, Rhaegar��s gaze sharpened as he noticed something troubling��a deep, ragged scratch across the dragon��s forehead. The wound was gruesome, oozing foul-smelling blood that still emitted wisps of smoke.


    "What is this?" Rhaegar��s expression darkened as he examined the injury more closely. "Did you fight another wild dragon?" The severity of the scratch suggested a fierce opponent, not one to be easily dismissed.


    "Roar..." Uragax��s pupils closed as it hung its head sorrowfully, refusing to respond as ity down. Rhaegar was puzzled but continued to press. "If something can hurt you like this, it��s even more reason for you to leave with me." Whether the adversary was a wild dragon or something else, Rhaegar��s goal was clear: to bring this ancient, rebellious dragon back under Targaryen control.


    Since the Red Comet had fallen, the tide of magic had surged, reviving long-dormant forces across the world. Dragons like Morghul of the Smoking Sea, Iragaxys hatched by the Braavosi, and Thunderstrider had all risen again. Even Rhaegar himself, along with others like the elusive Shadowbinders and the Water Wizards, had felt the resurgence. If there was indeed another wild dragon in Sothoryos, Rhaegar would not be surprised.


    <em>''Enough of this,''</em> Rhaegar thought, deciding to take a more forceful approach. He retrieved the Dragon Horn, a relic he had long prepared to use.


    <em>Ooooo~</em>


    Rhaegar closed his eyes, summoning the ancient power of his dragon blood as ck fire encircled his body. In an instant, his ck robe began to flutter wildly in the wind, twisting and swaying like a living shadow.


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal roared, its pale green pupils glowing with a dragon-shaped rune. With a powerful p of its wings, the beast soared into the sky, leaving the crushed remains of the wyverns behind without a second nce.


    "Roar!"


    The old dragon before Rhaegar widened its vertical pupils in surprise, a strangely human-like expression of wariness crossing its face. It crawled backward cautiously, recognizing the sound of the horn that had echoed through the cold depths of the Dragonpit more than once��each time heralding the fall of one or two of its kin.


    "Woo-woo-woo..."


    Unmoved, Rhaegar produced a bloodstained, moss-colored scale from his sleeve. The scale, about the size of an adult��s palm, was cracked and weathered, a remnant shed by the old dragon after sustaining an injury. Calmly, Rhaegar rubbed the scale against the dragon horn, and the scalding blood was absorbed into the dark Valyrian steel surface.


    Hum...


    In an instant, the horn glowed with a hazy reddish hue, and tiny characters began to appear, ovepping and intertwining until they formed an azure dragon-shaped inscription.


    "Roar!"


    Uragax��s pupils widened further, a newfound sense of kinship stirring the blood in its veins. Although puzzled, the old dragon remained still, recognizing the bond it shared with the silver-haired human before it, unwilling to harm him.


    "Roar!"


    Rhaegar blew the horn with all his might, secretly employing the ancient technique of the "Dragon Dance." Gradually, the old dragon calmed and prostrated itself once more.


    "Come with me," Rhaegar urged when the sound finally ceased. His face was pale from the effort, but he extended his hand in invitation. "You are already a Targaryen dragon��you can��t run away."


    "Roar..."


    Uragax tilted its head as if contemting the words, then rose to its feet and took flight.


    Boom.


    Cannibal swooped low,nding back in its original position, its tailshing past Rhaegar as if in impatience.


    "Let��s go!" Rhaegarmanded as he climbed onto Cannibal��s back, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth.


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal shot into the sky, quickly catching up to the rejuvenated old dragon, spitting out a mouthful of dark green Dragonfire in protest. But the old dragon paid it no heed, crashing headlong through the ashen mes as it headed toward the Summer Sea.


    For a dragon, moving was no big deal.


    ...


    Dorne, Sunspear.


    Prince Qyle, a young man with a troubled expression, paced restlessly through the pce. Worry gnawed at him. Dorne was beset by internal and external threats, and now the Red Kraken had appeared to add to his woes.


    The Greenblood River, the lifeline of Sunspear, was under the control of the Iron Throne, with only 30% of its profits allocated to Dorne each year. It wasn��t much, but it was enough to maintain afortable lifestyle for House Martell. Now, however, the Red Kraken in the Iron Inds was wreaking havoc, abducting natives of the Summer Isles and plundering merchant ships in the Summer Sea. This relentless piracy was devastating maritime trade and cutting deeply into the ie of House Martell.


    ��What should I do?�� Qyle muttered to himself, his face pale with anxiety as he nervously scratched at his hair.


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, a deep dragon roar echoed through the pce. Qyle��s spirits lifted, and he rushed to the nearest ss window. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the three towering walls of Shadowtown.


    Boom!


    A ck dragon shadow streaked across the sky, swiftly pursuing an ink-green dragon. The two mighty beasts hovered side by side above Sunspear, their presence casting ominous shadows over the city.


    "Excellent!" Qyle��s face lit up with a rare smile as he dashed out of the pce. He recognized the dark dragon immediately��it was Cannibal, the infamous ��Deathwing,�� known for its terrifying appetite not only for people but for other dragons as well.


    His father, Prince Qoren, had met his end in the mes of this very dragon.

 Chapter 616: The Assassin from Asshai

    Chapter 616: The Assassin from Asshai


    It was midday, and the sun shone brightly over Sunspear as Rhaegarnded his dragon, greeted by a grand reception.


    ��Your Grace,�� Prince Qyle called out, trotting along with a face beaming with joy.


    ��It''s been a long time, Prince.�� Rhaegar dismounted from the dragon''s back, his eyes scanning his loyal adviser to the Iron Throne.


    Since childhood, he had been filled with both fear and admiration for dragons and had found it difficult to resist Targaryen rule. The adviser''s constant admonitions had also shaped him into a gentle and chivalrous leader.


    Qyle''s forehead glistened with a fine line of sweat, unable to hide his excitement. ��Your Grace, please follow me into the Sun Tower.��


    ��Lead the way,�� Rhaegar replied, sweeping his gaze around the room. He spotted Beric Dayne, the Kingsguard and Regent of Dorne.


    ��Your Grace,�� Beric said with all the righteousness in the world as he bowed to the king. Despite the weight of his responsibilities, he had not forgotten the original intention of joining the Kingsguard.


    ...


    The Tower of the Sun, Throne Hall.Rhaegar changed into a light yellow robe in the style of Dorne and took his ce at the head of the banquet. A little girl with ck hair and olive skin crept up beside him, staring intently. This was Coryanne Martell, the youngest daughter of the former Prince of Dorne, Qoren��a much-loved little princess.


    Rhaegar nced at her, though his thoughts were elsewhere. He had deep connections to House Martell. Qyle and Coryanne had once traveled together by boat to Braavos and Vntis''s capital cities when they were attacked and taken hostage.


    Coryanne had even been engaged to a member of the Triarchy''s parliament, but his head was severed before the marriage could take ce.


    ��Sorry I''mte,�� Qyle said as he hurried about, instructing the servants to set the table. He had been feeding the dragons, preparing livestock for the two enormous, castle-like beasts, and watching as dragonfire poured out.


    Rhaegar waved his hand, his tone serious. ��The orphans of the Greenblood River are rebelling, pirates are emerging from the Summer Sea, and the Prince still has much to worry about.�� His visit to Sunspear was meant to help Qyle consolidate his rule and guard against threats from the Iron Inds and Basilisk Isles. Unlike onnd, dragons were slightly less formidable at sea. Sunspear, sitting on the docks of the Greenblood River, could serve as an ideal bridgehead.


    Qyle, though young, had a thick skin and spoke without hesitation. ��Your Grace, I really need money and trade. Pirates have been stirring up trouble along the coast, causing panic in the city.�� As he spoke, a pleading expression crossed his pale face.


    Rhaegar turned his head away in silent disgust. ''<em>This boy really knows how to take advantage of the situation and ask for a lot.''</em> Though Qyle looked young with his baby face, he was fourteen years old and already had the mature thinking of an adult.


    ��There��s also the Greenblood River Dock,�� Qyle continued, ��where the ships are packed every day, but most of them stay in the inns, and the bulk of the business is going to Oldtown and Lannisport.��


    Hisints were relentless. Since Dorne became independent, nobles across the territory had seized control of maritime trade. Now, as morals declined, Dorne had split into East and West, and merchants were reluctant toe.


    Rhaegar listened patiently before offering a solution. ��The rebels and pirates are a result of Sunspear��sck of defense. Strengthening maritime trade will provide the funds needed to arm an army. I��ll notify the three Free Cities of the Narrow Sea to increase trade with the Greenblood River and, incidentally, provide protection for Dorne��s coastal areas.��


    The rise of the Red Kraken and the Alliance of Three Cities foretold trouble brewing in the Summer Sea. If the Stepstones were used to link the two sides of the Narrow Sea and Dorne��s coast, a naval blockade could be formed to iste the continent of Sothoryos. Colonization, however, was not the best option. Westeros was already sparsely popted, and moving to the barren continent of Sothoryos wouldn��t aid in development. Instead, they would trap their enemies in and infested with mosquitoes and poisonous miasmas, cutting off their sources of food and clothing.


    ��I can''t thank you enough, Your Grace,�� Qyle said, nearly jumping with joy as he raised a cup of Harrenhal��s special sweet fruit wine in celebration.


    ...


    After lunch, Rhaegar suggested a tour of the Greenblood River. As the onlyrge dock in all of Dorne, it would bear the burden of the sea fleet''s entry and exit in the future.


    "Your Grace, I see you have brought another dragon with you. Is it like Vhagar from the time of the Conqueror?" Qylebrant asked, full of enthusiasm as he walked and talked, mentioning dragons.


    Rhaegar shook his head. "No, it''s not. This is an old, solitary dragon that rarely shows itself to the world." Uragax was a wild dragon without an owner that had survived the Doom. Rhaegar intended to find a suitable rider for it and fully integrate the dragon into House Targaryen.


    "It is an unparalleled honor to be a dragon rider," Qyle ttered, then suddenly said, "Your Grace, I heard that you have several daughters. I wonder if you are interested in marrying them?"


    "Huh?" Rhaegar paused, realizing something was amiss. ''This kid doesn��t care about dragons; he��s just after my bloodline.''


    Qyle continued sincerely, "I remember from the history books that the Old King, the Arbiter, fathered thirteen children in his lifetime and betrothed several of his daughters to noblemen of good character."


    As a Prince of the Realm and head of House Martell, which ruled the Dornish domain, asking the King for the hand of an orthodox Targaryen Princess would add noble Valyrian blood to his family, thereby strengthening the alliance between the two houses. It was a royal family''s reward for its loyal advisers and an important part of Dorne��s true integration into the rule of the Iron Throne. With a Princess as his wife, who would dare question his status? Just like Lord Corlys of House Vryon, whose wife was a dragon rider!


    Rhaegar''s expression remained unchanged, and his tone was light. "Do you know what happened to the daughters of the Old King who married outsiders?"


    "Er..." Qyle was at a loss for words.


    Among the many daughters of the Old King, only one was actually married outside the family��Daenaera Targaryen, who married into the Vale. She wed an old man decades her senior and died of puerperal fever at the age of 18. Another Princess, Viserra, was engaged to the Lord of White Harbor, but she broke her neck while trying to escape the marriage. The remaining Princesses either became holy sisters, prostitutes, or were mentally deficient and easily seduced.


    To be fair, even for girls from ordinary noble families, their fates were not as disastrous as this.


    "I''m sorry, Your Grace," Qyle said, lowering his head in guilt. "I shouldn''t have mentioned your family''s sad story."


    "Hmph!" Rhaegar snorted, his voice firm. "My daughters will not marry outside the family��at least, not if they don''t want to."


    He already had nine children, and Aegon was also beginning to spread his seed. Once Aemond and Daeron produced heirs, the family would grow rapidly. To maintain his rule and expand his lineage, he could simply arrange marriages within the family. Marry a noble from Westeros? ''Ha! <em>They''re not good enough for me.</em> <em>A dragon cannot be tied to a lowly cow.''</em>


    "Your Grace," Qyle hesitated, then cautiously asked, "what do you think of my sister?"


    Rhaegar frowned. "I already have three wives, and my oldest child is only two years younger than Coryanne. I''m not the Sea Snake, I won''t marry someone a decade younger than me."


    "No, no, you misunderstand," Qyle quickly corrected himself, adding, "You have several sons, and marrying a woman from House Martell would also be a sign of trust."


    This time, he spoke bluntly, directly invoking the word <em>''trust.''</em> An alliance was necessary. If he couldn��t marry a Princess Targaryen as he wished, it would suffice to marry his sister to a Targaryen Prince. As long as the two families established a marriage alliance, peace could be restored in Dorne. Otherwise, when the civil war in Dorne would end would depend not on when the rebels gave up, but on the mood of the current king.


    Rhaegar did not refuse again and fell into deep thought upon hearing this. An alliance was indeed the most direct way to establish a bridge between nobles. House Arryn of the Vale and House Baratheon of Storm��s End were both potential allies for House Targaryen. One of them obstructed the weak control of the North, while the other had opposed Dorne for generations. Dorne had submitted to the Iron Throne, and it was only right to give it due trust.


    After a moment of silence, Rhaegar met Qyle''s determined gaze and said indifferently, "My eldest and second sons are already engaged, so your younger sister can only choose from the younger boys."


    After a pause, he emphasized, "If their personalities don''t match, I won''t force an engagement on children who are not yet of sound mind."


    "I am most grateful, and House Martell will forever follow the banner of the Iron Throne," Qyle replied with a beaming smile, bowing respectfully.


    The second half of the sentence was lost on Qyle; all he heard was the king��s agreement to the marriage alliance. ''<em>Dorne must seize the opportunity when it is given to them.''</em>


    As he noted the other man''s smiling face, Rhaegar felt a sense of unease. He turned away and strolled along the banks of the Greenblood River. He had mentioned choosing a boy, and it would likely be his third son, Maekar. Maekar was his favorite son, and he had originally nned to betroth him to Aegon''s daughter, Jaehaera. But Viserion and Aegor were too young��they were still too young to "fly". Maekar, at seven years old, was five years younger than Lyanna Martell, making them a barely suitable match.


    ...


    As they walked, the sky darkened. The group, escorted by guards, reached the far side of the Greenblood River, in the region that was once Lemonwood. After the Dragon''s Wroth, Lemonwood had been tragically scorched by Sunfyre, reducingrge swathes of the forest to charred earth as far as the eye could see.


    A deep, rumbling growl echoed through the surviving trees, where the old, dark green dragon slithered along, its breath rustling the shrubs, causing them to crackle and sway violently.


    "Your Grace, that��s the cargo ship at the dock," Qyle said, pointing to the multitude of ships crowding the wide river. The vessels ranged in size, flying the gs of various nations, making the scene as bustling as the Mud Gate in King��s Landing.


    Rhaegar��s eyes were drawn to the banners of Oldtown��s Hightower and House Vryon, which marked a fleet of two merchant ships that stood out among the others. Suddenly, a small sailing ship bearing a ck g caught his attention.


    "Where is that ship from?" Rhaegar asked, his brow furrowed in curiosity. It was unfamiliar to him.


    Qyle strained on tiptoe, eager to exin to the king, but his stature failed him, leaving him sweating in frustration. Beric, standing nearby, answered respectfully, "That ship is from Asshai. It��s been anchored in the Greenblood River for several days. Rumor has it that sorcerers aboard the ship are apanying the Vryon fleet."


    "Is it connected to the Sea Snake?" Rhaegar inquired openly,fortable in the presence of his Kingsguard.


    Belis��s expression grew serious as he pondered the question. "I��m not certain, Your Grace, but Lord Corlys has been fixated on modifying his grand ship. He sent men to consult with the sorcerers of Asshai. Whether there''s a direct connection, no one can say for sure."


    "Brother."


    Qyle��s ear twitched as he heard his sister��s voice, surprised to find her behind him. Turning, he saw Coryanne standing by a wooden box at the river��s edge, her face pale and distant. In her hand, she held a small seashell, her movements strangely entranced as she slowly approached.


    Concerned for his sister, Qyle reached out as Coryanne, with a dreamy smile, handed him the shell. "Why are you here?" he asked, bewildered.


    ��Get out of the way!�� a guard suddenly barked, snapping Qyle back to the tense reality around them.


    ng!


    A long, ck sword plummeted from the sky, pinning a palm-sized poisonous spider to the ground in an instant. Rhaegar swiftly grabbed the stunned Qyle and crushed the spider underfoot, shouting, "You ghostly thing, do you want to die?"


    Qyle had suddenly changed his expression moments before, walking directly toward the river as if in a trance. He never imagined someone would attempt an assassination in broad daylight.


    "Ssshhhh!" Coryanne''s pupils turned pitch ck as she bared her fangs like a beast before spinning around and leaping into the river.


    "Sister!" Qyle cried out in shock, about to dive in after her.


    "Don''t worry, it''s a fake!" Rhaegar held him back, his gaze icy as he fixed his eyes on a small Asshai boat shrouded in ck canvas.


    A slender figure stood on the boat, motionless as a corpse. The swift current carried the boat away, and it vanished silently behind arger ship nearby, leaving no trace.


    "Protect Your Grace!" Beric unsheathed his ancestral sword, Morning, and positioned himself in front of the two kings.


    At that moment, beggar-like children appeared on both sides of the Greenblood River, their eyes glowing with eerie intent as they stared at the group. Rhaegar''s expression hardened as he realized that someone was trying to assassinate Qyle and incite chaos in Dorne.

 Chapter 617: The New Ruler of Slaver’s Bay

    Chapter 617: The New Ruler of ver��s Bay


    Boom!


    Suddenly, a violent wind howled through the air as the sky was torn by the dark shadow of a dragon. It crashed to the ground like a meteor.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal''s cold, lifeless eyes red as it stretched its neck, surveying the surroundings before letting out a wild, earth-shaking roar. The Green River churned in response, and the air temperature surged.


    "Gulp..."


    Dozens of ragged orphans swallowed hard, their dry throats tightening as they stared at the dark dragon''s massive throat.


    "Dragon!!"


    After a tense silence, someone finally screamed, and the crowd on both sides of the river scattered in a panicked frenzy. The scene resembled a mass exodus.


    The Cannibal looked on with contempt, slowly crawling towards the rider, its form towering like a mountain.''<em>Attack the rider? No way!</em>'' Rhaegar thought, freezing for a moment before slowly sheathing ckfyre. He shrugged at the great dragon. "The crisis is over."


    Even the top dragon riders may be helpless in situations like this. But him and his dragon were connected in mind, making a sudden attack impossible.


    "Your Grace, Your Grace," Qyle stammered, trembling uncontrobly in the presence of the dragon. He clung to Rhaegar like a small, frightened bird.


    "You''ve gotpany, boy," Rhaegar said, releasing him and ncing at the fleeing orphans. "Are they the Greenblood Orphans?"


    "They are. I never would have guessed," Qyle admitted, gradually regaining hisposure.


    "If you can''t fight them, assassinate or murder them. It''s the old Dorne trick," Rhaegar remarked with a mocking tone, unimpressed. The despicable methods of the Dornish were well documented in history.


    With that, he strode toward the distant Lemonwood forest.


    "Your Grace, what about the Asshai ship?" Qyle asked, still seething from the near-death experience.


    "You can go after it," Rhaegar replied dismissively without turning back. "Ordinary people cannot defend against the methods of a wizard."


    The sight of the sailing ship and the slender figure on board gave him the distinct feeling of a Shadowbinder. Even if he pursued it on a dragon, eradicating the root of the problem would be difficult.


    "Your Grace, where are you going?" Qyle called out, gritting his teeth as he chose to follow in Rhaegar''s footsteps.


    <em>''How safe it feels with a dragon that could drop from the sky at any moment,''</em> he thought.


    ...


    Lemonwood<strong>.</strong>


    ��Roar...��


    The old, dark green dragony on the ground, its scarred head resting on its shoulders, a thunderous snore rumbling from its rough throat.


    ��Get up, Uragax!��


    Rhaegar approached and gently patted the old dragon��s rough muzzle. He had originally intended to stay the night in Sunspear, but that n was long abandoned. Someone had hired Asshai sorcerers to assassinate the Prince of Dorne, an act that crossed a dangerous line.


    Rhaegar knew he must hurry back to King��s Landing, uncover the masterminds and those who stood to benefit, and dispatch troops to strengthen the naval blockade along the sea route connecting the Narrow Sea to the coast of Dorne.


    <em>The murderer won''t get away. The Four Cities Alliance, led by Rafe''s Braavos, or perhaps the remnants of the Triarchy in Sothoryos...</em> If they wanted a fight, they would soon see the full might of the crown. <em>Let''s see if they still have the arrogance to face a dragon flying in front of them.</em>


    ��Your Grace, are you leaving?��


    Qyle��s eyes brimmed with tears, his reluctance to part evident. Since the death of their father, Prince Qoren, House Martell��s grip on Dorne had weakened considerably. Now, threats to their lives and wealth had be all too real.


    Rhaegar nced back, noticing the boy hiding behind a lem tree ten meters away, his tears feigned. ''<em>Smart kid, good at pretending to be obedient and cute. But it''s just a disguise when he''s weak.''</em>


    Rhaegar patted the old dragon''s head with one hand and beckoned Qyle with the other. ��Come here, I''ll give you a parting gift.��


    Qyle''s eyes lit up at the words, and he overcame his fear of the dragon, running over.


    ��Roar...��


    The old dragon let out a deep, untimely growl, its hot breath washing over the boy. Qyle''s face turned white, and he nearly copsed.


    Rhaegar helped him up, moving him a safe distance from the slumbering dragon.


    ��Your Grace, what is the gift?�� Qyle��s lips trembled as his small eyes remained fixed on the unmoving dark green beast. ''<em>Could it be that the king ns to leave a dragon in Dorne?''</em>


    ��Dream on!��


    Rhaegar was momentarily at a loss for words, but then he pulled out a blue crystal que engraved with intricate inscriptions. ��This is a charm carved from a rare gemstone. It can block evil spirits and enchantments. Keep it with you for protection.��


    Unlike the Targaryens, House Martellcked the magic of dragon blood and was more susceptible to sorcery. Even a small enchantment could easily manipte them.


    ��Thank you, Your Grace,�� Qyle said, epting the crystal charm as if it were the most precious thing in the world. He immediately hung it around his neck.


    With his instructions given, Rhaegar turned and walked over to the old dragon, attempting to rouse it.


    <em>Boom.</em>


    The Cannibal flew overhead, its massive wings casting a broad shadow and filling the air with the acrid smell of ash.


    ��Roar!��


    Uragax opened its vertical pupils, rose, and swept its tail to clear some space beforezily reclining again. This charred forest suited it well. Not far from Sothoryos, it could asionally hunt wyverns. There were also plenty of lively humans and livestock nearby, much more than it had encountered in its previous, lonelier days.


    But the most important thing was that the old dragon disliked the Dragoneater and refused to share territory with it.


    ��You''re staying here, Uragax?��


    Rhaegar frowned at this unexpected turn of events.


    ��Roar...��


    The old dragon rubbed its snout against Rhaegar''s, resting its jaw on a tree trunk buried in ash, findingfort in the green hell it now called home. It preferred this natural setting over the jagged ind of its past.


    ��Stay here, then. You might even encounter a wild dragon,�� Rhaegar said, pressing his forehead against the dragon''s muzzle and gazing into its amber pupils. Unlike most dragons, which were restless and indifferent, this one radiated a calm wisdom. The longer they were together, the more evident this wisdom became.


    ��Roar...��


    The old dragon let out a low growl, clearly unconcerned. Rhaegar, caught in a mix of emotions, decided not to press the matter. He had initially hoped to find the ��white wild dragon�� that fishermen had spoken of on the continent of Sothoryos, but the dragon horn had not produced the desired results. If that wild dragon wasn��t Seasmoke��the fishing dragon��but a true adult dragon, it meant that the range of wild dragons extended as far as the Summer Sea, putting Uragax at risk if it stayed in Dorne.


    More troubling was the possibility that someone might attempt to tame the dragon. If that happened, it would be a total disaster.


    ��Roar!��


    Uragax seemed to sense his thoughts. The dragon nudged Rhaegar��s chest with its snout, gesturing toward the dragon horn tucked away in his space ne. The two had formed a tenuous connection through this dragon-finding artifact, and Uragax would not allow a mere human to get too close.


    Despite this, Rhaegar was still hesitant. House Targaryen already had more than twenty dragons, and both King��s Landing and Dragonstone were bing crowded. Ever since they lost their riders, Vhagar and Seasmoke had been wandering. If Uragax continued to roam the wilds, how was that any different from staying on the continent of Sothoryos?


    ��Your Grace!��


    Just as these thoughts crossed his mind, a guard hurried over, clutching an envelope. Ignoring Prince Qyle��s curious gaze, the guard handed the envelope to Beric, the Kingsguard. Beric examined it with a serious expression, then handed it to Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed as he took the letter and began to read. As he carefully absorbed its contents, his expression grew grave.


    ��The ruler of ver��s Bay!��


    The letter hade from King��s Landing, containing separate reports on Qohor and ver��s Bay. While the former had won a battle, which was of little concern, thetter had seen the sudden rise of a new ruler who had consolidated power over ver��s Bay and detained Tnd, who had been visiting.


    ��Thends of the Old Empire of Ghis have always been a thorn in the side of Old Valyria,�� Rhaegar muttered, gritting his teeth. He whistled sharply into the sky.


    ��Roar...��


    The Cannibal, who had been circling overhead, finally descended. Rhaegar climbed onto its back, giving Uragax onest nce as the old dragon settled back into its resting ce.


    ��I��ll find you a rider,�� he said softly. ��You can stay in Lemonwood for now. If wild dragons do invade, it will serve as a warning.��


    With that, Rhaegar knew he had to return to King��s Landing. The victory at Qohor had shifted the bnce of power across the three continents, and he needed to act swiftly.


    ...


    ver''s Bay.


    Meereen, the Great Coliseum.


    ��Oh, yeah, fight well!��


    ��Harder, hammer that peasant!��


    Thousands of spectators packed the stands, their cheers echoing across the coliseum as they watched the brutal ��duel�� unfold below. The wide arena had been deliberately transformed into a muddy quagmire, where two figures rolled about, exchanging blows in the filthy mess. To be precise, only one of them was doing the punching.


    ��Haha, poor curly lion!��


    A towering figure, standing 6''6" with a shock of purple hair, twisted his hips in a grotesque parody of a dance. The burly man, despite his size, woreyers of women��s clothing, adding a bizarre ir to his already unsettling appearance.


    ��Ho ho~~��


    The other figure, a blonde,y gasping in the mud, his head and face covered in filth. He was clearly struggling.


    ��Again, stupid!��


    The purple-haired man was Racallio Renndon, a notorious pirate. During the first Battle of the Stepstones, he had formed an alliance with Prince Qoren of Dorne, driving back Daemon, who had found the barren inds intolerable. Racallio briefly upied the Stepstones, dering himself king.


    Now, he grabbed the blonde man and punched him twice in the stomach, forcing him to spit out bile.


    He raised his hand triumphantly, then pped his plump chest under his tattered clothes.


    Despite his burly frame, Racallio possessed a strangely delicate heart, evident in his twisted enjoyment of the spectacle.


    In the audience, a beautiful maiden with silver and gold braids, dressed in a fur skirt, sat calmly, savoring rare red grapes she had never tasted before.


    ��Lady, what you did to my brother was too much!��


    Next to her, Tnd watched with iprehension, unable to sit idly by.


    Below, Racallio dragged the blonde figure up once more, shoving him back into the mud for another degrading "bath."


    The silver-haired maiden turned her head sharply, tapping the ground with her staff-like scepter in clear displeasure. ��Mind your title, Lord Tnd,�� shemanded.


    Tnd��s expression froze, and he struggled to find his voice. ��Your Grace, the Queen of Meereen,�� he finally managed to say, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. Saying such a thing went against his conscience, but his brother had brought this upon himself.


    Though the brothers were born only five minutes apart, their treatment had always been worlds apart. At times, Tnd wondered if he might have been the firstborn, with the midwife simply making a mistake.


    The silver-haired maiden lifted her chin, adopting an air of authority. ��Release him, Racallio,�� she ordered.


    It was clear that the shift in her status had been sudden, and she had yet to fully adapt to the power and responsibility that came with her position.


    ��Yes, Your Grace!�� Racallio responded with an almost yful obedience, twisting his barrel-thick waist as he pulled the dazed Jason out of the quagmire.


    Seeing this, Tnd spoke up in protest. ��Your Grace, we came here to exchange ideas peacefully.�� How could you justify beating someone like this? It was excessive!


    The silver-haired maiden frowned slightly, her voice firm as she responded, ��It''s not you who was struck, Lord Tnd.�� She continued, her toneced with cold logic, ��You are a courteous gentleman, but your brother is foolish and arrogant and deserves to be punished.��


    The moment they met, he had called her a bastard and sought to divide the hard-wonnds she had fought to reunify. Three hundred years ago, a man like that wouldn��t have been fit to feed a dragon.

 Chapter 618: Maekar Targaryen

    Chapter 618: Maekar Targaryen


    "These are our terms: one hundred gold dragons!"


    "For ship?"


    "No, for person."


    Inside the Great Pyramid of Meereen, the silver-haired Queen, who had initially looked pleased, once again received the Lannister brothers.


    Jason was covered in mud, except for his face, which had been roughly washed, and he was in a daze. He couldn''t believe it��he, a Lord of the First Rank, had not only been beaten up but was now being held hostage in the main hall for ransom.


    Tnd opened his mouth wide in shock. "Even if we wanted to, we couldn''t pull together that kind of money."


    His brother had led arge fleet, but all the sailors had been detained. To rescue them, he would have to pay one hundred gold dragons per person, which was better than just killing them all and being done with it.


    "I can''te up with that kind of money, and don''t even think about it!" Jason eximed, his face bruised and swollen. He would never spend an extra gold dragon to rescue anyone��not even if the Conqueror were still alive!


    "There you go again, crying poverty." The silver-haired Maiden sat on her throne, her tanned long legs folded to the side, looking down her nose at Tnd. "Who would believe that,ing from a Lannister?"She began counting on her fingers. "Everyone knows that your stables and kitchens are made of solid gold."


    "Yes, everyone knows!" Racallio, dressed as a woman in seven colors, crossed his arms and agreed with the Queen.


    "No, not even one gold dragon!" Jason shouted again, like a clown performing on stage.


    The silver-haired woman covered her forehead with her hand and waved impatiently. "Maybe we should shut him up. Aplete idiot, who has no right to an equal dialogue."


    Bang!


    Racallio punched Jason in the stomach, sending him crumpling over like a golden shrimp.


    "Hey, we agreed to negotiate, not fight!" Tnd protested, his eyelids fluttering in shock. Although he admittedly didn''t like his twin brother much, he couldn''t just let him be bullied in front of his eyes. What did they take the Iron Throne and House Lannister for?


    Seeing this, the silver-haired Maiden nodded. "Take him away and treat him like a guest."


    "Yes, my Queen." Racallio gave a wicked smile and dragged the semi-unconscious Jason under his arm.


    "No, no!" Tnd was horrified and moved to stop him. His niece was only two years old, and he couldn''t allow his brother''s reputation to be ruined.


    "Don''t worry, Racallio has some strange quirks, but his orientation is still quite normal," the silver-haired woman reassured with a feigned air of generosity.


    Tnd, ever the cautious adviser, had always maintained a polite demeanor in her presence. Upon hearing her words, he hesitated but didn��t dare to question her. Instead, he turned away and took a deep breath. "Lady Irina, I can agree to those terms on Jason''s behalf. Let''s move on to business."


    There was no denying that Jason was an arrogant fool. As his twin, Tnd felt it was his duty to protect him, but it was up to Jason to show some sense. ''This is not Westeros, and it is certainly not the Westends ruled by House Lannister,'' he thought. ''Perhaps a good beating will teach him humility and courtesy.''


    "Call me "Your Grace"!" Irina raised her chin, emphasizing her status once more.


    Tnd chuckled. "Haha, and what is yourw, and where do you rule?"


    "My bloodline is myw, recognized by the three Free Cities rebuilt from the ruins of the Old Empire of Ghis," Irina replied, twirling a lock of her silver-blonde hair around her finger, unting her Valyrian heritage.


    "As far as I know, your rule rose as suddenly as a storm," Tnd remarked, his gaze betraying a hint of surprise as he studied her silver hair and purple eyes. He asked cautiously, "Forgive my impertinence, but what is your family name...?"


    Just four years ago, ver''s Bay had been devastated by a bastard dragonlord lineage.


    Irina straightened her back, her eyes reflecting distant memories. "Daeryon! The ancient and noble Dragonlord bloodline, the Warden family of the Thirteenth Peak of the Fourteen mes."


    "..." Tnd was stunned by her bold revtion, momentarily at a loss for words. ''Another Dragonlord bloodline... Wow. I wonder how the king will react to this news��perhaps he��ll burn ver''s Bay again.''


    "Er, this is truly surprising information," Tnd coughed twice, hesitant. "You should be aware of the disaster that befalls anyone who falsely ims an unknown Dragonlord surname."


    He was being polite, offering her a warning, as she had shown him a simr courtesy. Not just anyone could im descent from the Dragonlords by adopting a fabricated surname.


    Irina Daeryon remained unfazed. "Do you think I''m lying, Lord Tnd?"


    "Not at all, it''s just... the truth," Tnd replied with a forced smile. He had no desire to be beaten like Jason.


    "You''re very honest, and that annoys me," Irina said, resting her hand on her side and looking away. "I''ve heard of the Bastard Dragonlord, an impostor with Aethyrys blood. I am nothing like that."


    She had been born in the Lands of the Long Summer, was well-versed in the oral tradition of inherited knowledge, and had escaped the cursednd with great difficulty. She was a true dragon, like her kin on the Western Continent.


    Tnd hesitated slightly before interrupting, "You are right. Let''s move on to the troubles with the ve ships."


    The previous topic was too sensitive. It was better to hurry up with the negotiations and leave with everything intact.


    "Speak," Irina gestured with a raised hand, always maintaining the refined etiquette of the aristocracy. She was still adapting to her new environment, learning to integrate into a world with different norms and values. Ancient Valyria had fallen, and aside from their kin on the Western Continent, the prestige of the Dragonlords surnames had faded.


    "Lady, the ve ships have been raiding vessels near Vntis and the Stepstones, which has severely disrupted our maritime trade," Tnd said, regaining hisposure as he exined the purpose of his visit. On behalf of the Iron Throne and Prince Maekar, he admonished ver''s Bay for its vile actions.


    "I''m sorry for the impact on your business," Irina replied, her eyes shing with a hint of regret as she offered the apology.


    Tnd, quick-witted, couldn''t help but respond with a touch of cynicism. "My father once told me that any borate excuse is meaningless before the word ''but.''"


    Irina smiled slightly and quickly added, "But!"


    Tnd:...


    He realized then that reasoning with women like her was futile.


    "This is ver''s Bay, and we need ves," Irina continued, her voice unwavering. "Just as House Lannister sits on a mountain of gold, I cannot forbid you from digging for it."


    ''If the ver''s Bay doesn''t capture ves, what do you expect us to do��farm barrennd or fish for stinking shrimp in the sea?''


    Tnd was exasperated and he responded firmly, "You should exercise some control. Besides, the ve trade is a sin and will be punished by both the old and new gods."


    "The ve trade is an ancient tradition," Irina retorted, frowning. "Both the Old Empire of Ghis and ancient Valyria permitted the existence of ves."


    "Precisely, and that''s why both of those great powers you mentioned have already fallen," Tnd countered, seizing the opportunity to press his point.


    "This..." Irina was momentarily speechless. The origins of the Doom were uncertain��whether natural or man-made��but one thing was undeniable: the ancient Valyrians hadmitted countless atrocities.


    Sensing her hesitation, Tnd spoke with a touch of arrogance, "On behalf of the Iron Throne, I am officially warning you to cease the brutal practices of the ve ships at sea, or you will face dire consequences."


    With the weight of authority behind him, his words carried a threat.


    "And what if I refuse?" Irina''s face darkened slightly. Without the ve trade, what would sustain her people? The ve trade was legal in the Freehold Empire; she hadmitted no crime.


    "Then you..." Tnd paused, then said, "Then you will face serious trouble, and my king will be furious."


    "You are a loyal adviser who knows how to stay out of trouble," Irina observed calmly, neither offended nor intimidated. "It seems we cannot reach an agreement. When your brother pays the ransom for his freedom, I will release you as well."


    "What?" Tnd was stunned. He didn��t fullyprehend her words until the ve soldiers seized him by the shoulders.


    "Treat him well," Irina instructed, feeling weary and in need of rest. "Prepare a te of quail for me, and don''t let any mutton near the table."


    "No, no! You can''t treat an adviser like this!" Tnd cried out in desperation, struggling against his captors.


    Irina merely rolled her eyes and walked away, heading back to her sleeping quarters.


    Suddenly, a strong wind gusted through the window, causing the lightly draped curtain to billow.


    ��Huh?�� Irina paused, her breath catching as something caught her attention.


    Boom.


    A massive shadow streaked across the sky of Meereen, swiftly ascending the Great Pyramid. The sheer force of its impact shatteredrge panes of ss.


    ��Dragon!��


    A heart-wrenching cry echoed from outside the tower, followed by the chaotic sounds of people stumbling and falling.


    Irina��s eyes widened in rm as she rushed to the window.


    ��Roar!��


    A colossal creature with a silvery-gray body and misty wings shed by, moving with the agility of a swallow.


    ��Dragon! Prepare yourselves!��


    ��Hurry...��


    The ve soldiers shouted, frantically turning the scorpion crossbows on the city walls andunching long steel spears.


    Boom.


    The silver-gray dragon dove through the red-brick sky of Meereen, unleashing a torrent of gray Dragonfire that billowed like smoke or fog.


    The Dragonfire obscured everything in its path, and the dragon darted in and out, its terrifying roars reverberating through the city.


    Suddenly...


    ��Roar!��


    The silver-gray dragon soared out of the Dragonfire, gliding effortlessly past the towering city walls. The scorpion crossbows struggled to find their mark as the dragon swept through the gray Dragonfire like a string of beads.


    ��Ah!��


    ��Fire! Help...��


    The city walls erupted in mes, reminiscent of a festering wound, as the ve soldiers screamed in agony, tumbling to the ground and trampling over one another in their desperate attempts to escape.


    ��A dragon! A living dragon!��


    Inside the Great Golden Pagoda, Irina trembled, her eyes brimming with tears.


    ...


    A long timeter, in the square of Meereen...


    ��Roar!��


    The silver-gray dragon stood tall, its enormous head swiveling as it surveyed its surroundings. Its cold, vertical pupils were filled with an ominous intensity.


    The ve soldiers surrounded the beast from a distance, tensely gripping their spears but not daring to approach.


    ��Quiet, Tyraxes,�� Maekarmanded from the saddle, his small face calm and vignt. He had lost his teacher, and Vntis could no more do without Tnd Lannister than the Stepstones could do without their uncle, Aegon.


    Well... it shouldn''t make much difference.


    ��Prince!��


    After a long wait, Tnd finally appeared, his face flushed with excitement. He knew that someone woulde to his rescue. Apanying him was Irina, nked by her bodyguards.


    Irina''s gaze was fixed on the menacing silver-gray dragon. At over twenty meters long, it stood as tall as a small castle. It might not be asrge as the fully-grown dragons, but to the tiny ve soldiers, it was still a fearsome beast.


    Tyraxes was unlike any other dragon. Apart from its silver-gray scales and misty wing membranes, its head was about three timesrger than that of an average dragon, and its exposed fangs were like a giant guillotine, capable of splitting mountains and crushing stones.


    The dragon''s tailcked a dorsal fin, ending instead in a ttened, shell-like shape that resembled a powerful battering ram as it swayed. One shoulder de and half of its wing were covered in silver-gray scales that shimmered with a colorful sheen, reflecting halos of light in the sun.


    At first nce, Tyraxes appeared fierce and hideous��a war machine designed for maximum lethality.


    ��Have you been kidnapped, Lord Tnd?�� Maekar asked, tilting his head to the side with a mischievous gleam in his sapphire-like eyes.

 Chapter 619: The Blue Queen’s Cub

    Chapter 619: The Blue Queen��s Cub


    ''My teacher is useless!'' Maekar thought bitterly.


    ��No, it was a kind attempt to keep me here,�� Tnd said with a sheepish smile, offering a weak excuse.


    ��Mm-hm,�� Maekar grunted, casting a sideways nce at the silver-haired woman in the distance. A Valyrian bing the Queen of Meereen and ruler of ver''s Bay? ''There��s something off about the teacher��s teachings if even a fallen Valyrian can im to be a ruler over and over again.''


    ��Prince, what is your name?�� Irina stepped forward, her eyes burning with curiosity as she looked at the young boy on the dragon. He appeared to be around seven or eight years old, his translucent tinum blonde hair catching the sunlight. His gloomy blue eyes were almost as dark as purple, and his pale face had an oddly endearing quality.


    Maekar first nced at the nearby ve soldiers before responding tly, ��Before asking someone else, you should introduce yourself first.��


    As he spoke, he discreetly waved at Tnd.


    ��Oh,�� Tnd nodded vigorously, then scrambled up the ropedder on all fours.


    Irina didn��t attempt to stop him. After introducing herself, she asked, ��Targaryen��s younger brother, can you speak now?��


    The Targaryens, far away in the Western Continent, were the only family capable of controlling dragons. The two houses had once been closely allied.��Maekar Targaryen,�� Maekar replied, standing tall and pulling back his shoulders. ��Third son of Rhaegar Targaryen the First, Prince of Vntis.��


    ��Prince?�� Irina echoed, momentarily confused.


    ��Yes,�� Maekar nodded. ��Your ve ships have disrupted trade in my Free Cities.��


    Of all his siblings, only his eldest brother Baelon held the title of heir and Prince of Dragonstone. Maekar, stationed far away in Vntis, bore the title of Prince, though it was prefixed with "Interim." He could officially inherit the title when he came of age.


    Irina��s eyes gleamed even brighter at his words, and she took a step closer. ��I have entertained your teacher. Would you honor me by joining the banquet?��


    A boy with a potent dose of dragon blood, apanied by a magnificent, powerful sub-adult dragon��it was as alluring as a drug.


    ��No!�� Maekar refused outright, frowning. ��My mother told me to stay away from bad women.��


    Did she think he was a fool? The way she looked at him, it was as if she wanted to carve a piece of flesh from him��something that mightpromise his innocence.


    ��You can stay. I swear on my life and the honor of my house that I will never harbor the slightest ill will towards you,�� Irina said, raising her hand in a solemn vow.


    ��Save it.�� Maekar tugged on the reins and issued a stern warning. ��I won��t be taken in by your sweet talk, just like I don��t believe in your fakest name.��


    House Daeryon, the supposed Dragonlord lineage she imed, had perished long ago in the Doom.


    ��I sincerely hope you��ll stay as my guest!�� Irina''s eyes sparkled as she added, ��I admire your father greatly, and I could even invite him to visit Meereen.��


    At the mention of his father, Maekar��s expression darkened slightly. ��You don��t want him here.��


    ��Perhaps I could go to King��s Landing to meet him?�� Irina suggested boldly. Hermanding presence matched her frank tone. ��I share the same blood as your family, the ancient Valyrian Dragonlord blood.��


    She had no dragons and no living rtives. Her great-grandmother had perished halfway there, never escaping the smoke that had haunted her all her life. But Irina ruled ver��s Bay, and alongside the other coastal Wise Masters and Good Masters, she held the power to influence the war. A Dragody without rivals but with considerable strength shouldn��t be dismissed by the petty Targaryen kings. The best path forward for the descendants of Old Valyria was to renew the alliance between their houses.


    Maekar��s face scrunched up like a bun, and he hesitated before saying, ��You still haven��t given up.��


    Was she really nning to ask his father for a marriage? Regardless of her bloodline, Maekar didn��t like older girls. It was one of the few things he and his father differed on.


    ��You can think of it that way, but I��m not that desperate,�� Irina dered, puffing out her modest chest with pride. ��I just want to see your father. He owes me some sheep.��


    Pat!


    Maekar pulled out a handful of gold dragons and tossed them at her, bluntly retorting, ��He doesn��t owe anyone anything, you old woman.��


    Then he patted the silver-gray scales of his dragon, signaling it to take off.


    ��Roar!��


    Tyraxes raised its head and roared, spreading its massive wings beforeunching into the air with a powerful kick. As the dragon soared over the smoky Meereen, Tnd��s panicked screams echoed in the distance. The roar of the beast reverberated across the Free Cities.


    ...


    Across the Narrow Sea, in Driftmark, at the docks of Hull...


    The Sea Snake walked alone along the dockside, his long, tigerish eyes scanning the shipwrights and sailors hard at work.


    Sizzle...


    A figure with short silver hair sat cross-legged nearby, methodically polishing an axe de on a whetstone.


    ��Addam,�� the Sea Snake called out as he approached the handsome young man, who was dressed as a shipwright.


    Addam looked up, surprised to see the Sea Snake. ��My lord, why are you here?��


    ��Just wandering around. The kingdom needs our ships,�� the Sea Snake replied with a natural ease. ��Your brother Alyn has joined my fleet. He��s a better sailor than you.��


    Addam��s eyes darkened, and he forced a smile. ��He��s a greatd��works hard and neverins. Much better than his older brother, who has to fight off seasickness every time he goes to sea.��


    With that, Addam returned to sharpening the axe de, asionally testing its edge by chopping into a wooden board.


    Four years ago, he had defied the orders of the one-eyed Aemon and led the army back to Hull. As a result, Corlys had called him in for a private meeting, where he was stripped of all titles and dismissed as a sailor. His status plummeted, and he returned to his old trade as a shipwright.


    The Sea Snake observed Addam��s despondency but turned away without a word.


    Addam clenched his lower lip, stubbornly watching the old man''s retreating back.


    ��By the way,�� the Sea Snake suddenly turned back, his tone thoughtful, ��there will be more wars in the kingdom. Do well at the shipyard��there��s no shortage of opportunities for a hero.��


    Without waiting to see if Addam understood, the Sea Snake turned and left.


    Addam stood there, stunned and at a loss.


    ��Shipyard?�� he murmured to himself.


    His maternal grandfather had been an old shipwright, his mother a ship��s captain, and he had inherited the family shipyard. In Driftmark, families like his were numerous, all living off the sea and their crafts.


    Addam was momentarily confused, but then he recalled a sail n he hadn��t been able to understand at all. It had been sent from a wizard of Asshai for study and was kept strictly confidential.


    ...


    Late afternoon in High Tide City...


    A dragon as ck as coaly in the castle courtyard, devouring a goat fed to it by the guards.


    ��News from Qohor: Daemon and Aemond burned Lorath and forced the Four Cities Alliance to retreat,�� Mysaria, the White Worm, reported, her voice calm and measured.


    ��Lorath is just a barren Free City,�� Rhaegar replied.


    ��Norvos is equally barren, but it can still sway the course of war,�� Mysaria countered, standing slender and graceful in front of the window, recounting each detail with precision.


    Rhaegar sat on the king��s throne made of driftwood in the Hall of Nine, rubbing his temples as a headache began to form. ''Only when you be king do you realize how difficult it is to be the most powerful person in the world,'' he thought.


    Qohor was embroiled in war, the remnants of the Triarchy were resurging, and a new ruler had emerged in ver��s Bay seemingly out of nowhere... It was no wonder that no king in history had ever sought to expand their territory excessively. Even the revered Old King had focused on consolidation and strengthening his rule.


    The dynasty''s territory was expanding, and enemies were on all sides.


    ��Hah...�� Rhaegar sighed,menting softly, ��The Freehold Empire had a thousand dragons and ruled the Valyrian Penins and much of eastern Essos. Am I being too ambitious if I try to dominate both sides of the Narrow Sea?��


    The thought had crossed his mind more than once��conquering Braavos and Pentos, eliminating two of the Nine Free Cities. That would leave only Norvos and Lorath, both militarily and politically weak. Norvoscked a warm port, and Lorath didn��t even have one. Together, they might be a tough challenge, but divided, they would be easy prey. The pressure would be much less.


    ��Your Grace, I advise against this,�� Mysaria said, leaning against the window frame, her voice rational and steady. ��All the major banks in the world owe money to the Iron Bank; we cannot afford to make enemies on every front.��


    To put it more bluntly: more than half of the noble families in Westeros were indebted to the Iron Bank. If the king led an army into battle, not only would the Lords be difficult to manage, but they might also sabotage his efforts behind his back. This was the inevitableplexity of politics, where everything was entangled andplicated.


    The Freehold had once considered attacking Braavos, but the Iron Bank��s influence and the courage of the then-Sealord had deterred them, leading to an alliance instead.


    Braavos��s unique location��with no arablend and natural protection by a fog barrier��made it a costly and pointless target.


    Rhaegar��s jaw tightened as Mysaria continued. The more they talked, the worse his headache became. The Iron Inds, the Basilisk Isles��difficult locations with little strategic value, yet filled with troublemakers.


    ��But there is some good news,�� Mysaria added with a small smile. ��Daemon and Aemond have returned victorious, and Lord Tnd has safely returned from ver��s Bay.��


    This news was only half a month old, but it had been a relief. The king had hurried back from Dorne to prepare the fleet for an anticipated attack on ver��s Bay. Thankfully, the threat of war had not materialized.


    As they conversed, Rhaenys entered the hall, holding a young boy with short silver-blonde hair in her arms, beaming with excitement. ��Rhaegar,e with me to the Dragonpit.��


    ��What is it, Aunt?�� Rhaegar asked, rising from his seat, confused.


    ...


    The former site of High Tide City, now serving as a temporary Dragonpit...


    ��Roar!��


    A 20-meter-long ethereal blue dragon let out a thunderous roar, pping its silver-white wings.


    ��Quiet, Thunderstrider,�� the two elderly Dragonkeepers called out, their bamboo canes knocking against the ground as they attempted to drive the dragon back.


    With a low rumble, Thunderstrider retreated into a corner. From the shadows emerged a massive dragon with cobalt blue scales and copper-colored ws, jaws, and belly.


    ��Tessarion,�� Daeron said softly, as he and Rhaena stood hand in hand before the elegant dragon.


    ��Roar...��


    Despite being over thirty meters long, Tessarion still retained the temperament of a little princess. A female Dragonkeeper stepped forward from the shadows, holding a slender chain in her hand. The chain nked noisily as it swung from the dark yellow w of a young dragon.


    ��Roar~~��


    The young dragon, its earth-yellow body covered in scales and fine horns on its forehead, pped its wings restlessly, its scarlet vertical pupils darting around. The female Dragonkeeper��s voice was calm and soothing as she led the young dragon toward Daeron. ��Prince, this is the first offspring of your dragon.��


    ��I can hardly believe it��Tessarion hatched a young dragon so quickly,�� Daeron eximed with joy, reaching out to touch the young dragon.


    Dragons do not have fixed genders; the one thatys eggs is typically regarded as female. Shortly after Tessarion reached adulthood, sheid a clutch of five eggs��an unprecedented feat.


    ��Roar~~��


    The young earth-yellow dragon hissed sharply, unleashing a mouthful of yellow mes at therge hand approaching it. Daeron jerked his hand back in surprise.


    Rhaena, eyes wide with amazement, held a small boy with silver hair and purple eyes in her arms. ��Aenar, look how fierce this young dragon is. Do you like it?�� she asked encouragingly.


    The little boy, about three or four years old, was small and delicate, with a face that bore a striking resemnce to Daemon��s. His timid expression masked a hint of immature ferocity.


    ��It��s a bit ugly,�� Aenar remarked, his pale skin like his mother��s and his serious purple eyes reflecting his judgment. On his back, he carried an exquisite basket, inside of whichy a scarlet dragon egg adorned with spiral patterns.

 Chapter 620: Baela’s Hatred

    Chapter 620: Ba��s Hatred


    Time flew by, and half a monthter...


    King''s Landing, Mud Gate.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    A massive scarlet creature, resembling a giant serpent, soared over ckwater Bay, its wide, fleshy wings casting a shadow over the towering city gate.


    The people in the city looked up, their reactions a mix of cheers and curses. Among them, none were more delighted than the prostitutes of Flea Bottom.


    ...


    Red Keep.


    "Son, I''m home!" Daemon shouted, striding quickly into the hall.


    In his haste, he hadn''t taken the time to change. He was still d in ck steel armor, scratched from battle, a scarlet cloak draped over his shoulders, and a dragon wing helmet tucked under his arm. His lean figure moved with purpose, and his long silver-and-gold hair flowed freely, framing his youthful yet stern face."Father!!" A silver-haired boy, sitting in the hall, jumped to his feet in surprise at the sound.


    Rhaenys stood off to the side, arms crossed, murmuring, "Be careful, he''s not going anywhere."


    The boy, his milk teeth showing in a wide grin, threw himself into the cold, metallic embrace of Daemon''s armor.


    "Look what I brought you, Gaemon." Daemon lifted his eldest son with one arm, pulling out a Dragonbone dagger from behind his back. It was a prize from the battlefield of Qohor, taken from a Norvoshi temple. While not as precious as Valyrian steel, it was a rare treasure nheless.


    "I like it," Gaemon said, his hands gripping the delicate dagger as he shyly wrapped his arms around his father''s neck. He didn''t mind the smell of dragon breath mixed with blood that clung to his father.


    Daemon''s mouth curled into a smile as he gazed at his son. "What have you been up to while I was away? You seem full of spirit."


    As he spoke, he nced at Rhaenys, who remained expressionless. "Tessarion hatched a young dragon named Morghul," she said casually. "Quite the sought-after creature these days."


    That young dragon, with its earthy scales and crimson vertical pupils, had already been deemed a fierce and aggressive beast by the Dragonkeepers.


    Daemon''s smile turned yful. "My son doesn''t need a young dragon to make his mark."


    "Right!" Gaemon nodded proudly. "I have Thunderstrider."


    Daemon''s smile widened as he ruffled his son''s messy hair. That dark blue, sub-adult dragon had been a precious find from the Smoking Sea, one that Daemon had captured with great care. Though still too young to ride, Thunderstrider was already tamed and bound to Gaemon.


    Rhaenys watched the two of them, her expression unreadable. "Just because you don''t care about it doesn''t mean others won''t fight over it."


    Daemon frowned slightly, caught off guard by her words.


    <em>Knock, knock.</em>


    The sound of knocking on the hall door made him turn. Standing in the doorway was another boy, much younger, with a knapsack on his shoulders. He looked at Daemon weakly, unsure of his wee.


    ...


    Not long after, at the Dragonpit...


    <em>Roar!</em>


    "..."


    Several dragons of varying sizes crawled around the vast hall, hissing angrily at one another.


    "Moondancer and Trickster are growing like wildfire," Rhaegar remarked, standing by the campfire, his gaze fixed on the two enormous creatures nestled together.


    One was darker in color, with gray stripes that resembled tree rings at first nce. The other was vividly colored, sporting a pair of sharp dragon horns and a long, scorpion-like tail. Both sub-adult dragons were under twenty years of age, with Trickster��therger of the two��already stretching over twenty meters. Their robust frames radiated raw power.


    "The Trickster has quite the appetite, and it''s not picky��cows, goats, pigs, it devours them all," Aemon boasted, a proud smile on his face. "Just like its rider��smart and capable."


    "Is that so?" Rhaegar��s eyes sparkled as he looked his second son up and down. Aemon was carefree, taking after no one in particr. Unlike his older brother, Baelon, who was calm andposed, Aemon was bold and adventurous.


    Rhaegar had also noticed how the twins had begun to grow apart, not just in personality but in appearance as well. Baelon had grown stronger, with a more intense gaze, while Aemon, leaner and swift, wore his short silver-blonde hair in contrast to his brother��s longer locks. The resemnce between them, once nearly identical, had lessened. Perhaps it was their hearts that set them apart.


    "Of course!" Aemon replied confidently, meeting his father''s gaze without hesitation. "The people of Tyrosh and Lys know me. I''ve repaired and rebuilt half the bridges and canals in both Free Cities."


    As the future Prince of Lys and husband to the Queen of Tyrosh, Aemon had his own role to y. With Baelon often consumed by matters of state, Aemon believed he might one day be named Hand of the King. His knowledge of domestic affairs was considerable, as he had spent much time among the poor, the homeless, and the prostitutes in every slum.


    With their mother away in Lys and their uncle Daemon fighting in Qohor, much of the management of the Free Cities had fallen to him and his foster sister, Ba.


    "Not bad, you''ve got some talent," Rhaegar said with a faint smile, offering rare praise. He knew his second son well enough to understand that Aemon couldn''t resist a bit of recognition.


    "Hey, where''s Baelon?" Aemon asked, a note of pride in his voice, eager for his brother to witness his achievements.


    "He''s in the Rivends," Rhaegar replied, his expression darkening slightly. <em>I wonder if the mission has gone well?</em> he mused silently.


    Aemon''s excitement dimmed, but his thoughts quickly shifted. "I heard from the merchants at the docks that Maekar flew to ver''s Bay on dragonback and rescued Lord Tnd... but left his brother, Lord Jason, behind."


    "Who told you that?" Rhaegar frowned.


    "Everyone knows," Aemon continued, undeterred. "Maekar was reckless. He only rescued Lord Tnd."


    Rhaegar''s gaze sharpened as he turned to his son. "And what exactly are you suggesting? That Jason is somehow more important than Tnd? Or are you using your half-brother of deliberately leaving that fool behind in ver''s Bay so his teacher could inherit the Westends?"


    His voice wasced with frustration. Truth be told, Rhaegar often wondered if Jason''s brain was filled with nothing but air. The audacity of that man to ride into ver''s Bay, make ims on territory, and then insult the master to his face. But what irked him even more was his second son��s veiledint, whether intentional or not.


    Aemon was taken aback and quickly exined, "I only meant that it was dangerous for Maekar to rescue Lord Tnd alone. A long-term n should��ve been considered."


    "It <em>better</em> have been," Rhaegar said sharply, his gaze unwavering. He repeated his warning, <em>''Remember my words��it had better be.''</em>


    "Yes, Father," Aemon bowed his head, not daring to argue further.


    Seeing his son��s submission, Rhaegar softened slightly. "You are blood brothers, bound by the same fate. Your glory is my glory, and your failure is my failure. If a brother is in trouble, you must help him��not mock or gossip behind his back."


    "I understand," Aemon muttered, eyes cast to the floor.


    Rhaegar, uninterested in prolonging the lecture, waved him off. "Go now. Don��t leave your fianc��e waiting."


    ...


    On the other side of the Dragonpit...


    <em>Roar~~</em>


    A young, earth-colored dragon tore into a roasted goat, its sharp teeth and ws making quick work of the meal.


    "Do you want this dragon, Aenar?" Ba asked, standing beside her half-brother. Tall for her age, she gently patted his head. At fifteen, she was already a striking young woman. With a darkplexion, her delicate features were framed by short silver-blonde hair, her ambitious purple eyes shining.


    Her twin sister, Rhaena, stood next to her, looking far less developed, almost like a child. Rhaena also nced at Aenar and whispered, "Morghul is a fine young dragon, and it��s growing fast."


    Her words carried an implication as her gaze drifted toward a corner of the Dragonpit.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    A pale pink sub-adult dragon fluttered its wings, graceful like a butterfly. Morning was notrge, barely over ten meters, but it had reached the size where it could carry a rider. Rhaena didn��t expect her dragon to be much use in battle, but it was enough to indulge her asional desire for dragon riding.


    Aenar, carrying a basket on his back, looked doubtful. "I already have a dragon egg," he said, bouncing the basket slightly as he spoke.


    "Dragon eggs are hard to hatch," another voice interrupted.


    Gaemon appeared, followed by a pale blue sub-adult dragon. Ba nced back, her voice indifferent. "Gaemon."


    Gaemon, with his delicate features, looked up proudly. "Father''s back��he gave me a gift." With a flourish, he drew the Dragonbone dagger from his waist, waiting for his sisters to admire it.


    "Oh," Ba responded, barely interested. She took Aenar''s hand and began to lead him away. "Come, I��ll show you Moondancer. Maybe Aemon has a gift for you and Rhaena somewhere."


    They walked quickly, almost as if they were avoiding a nuisance. Rhaena hesitated, torn between her siblings, but eventually touched Gaemon''s head in passing before following Ba.


    Gaemon stood frozen, his hand slowly lowering the dagger as he watched them go.


    This entire scene was witnessed by Daemon, hidden behind the bronze doors. His eyes narrowed, his voice low. "She still holds a grudge."


    Ba, with her fearless andpetitive nature, was so much like him. A true tomboy, brave and proud. But she had never forgiven him for Laena''s death in childbirth, ming it on him as if it were his "masterpiece." And to her, young Gaemon, born on that same tragic day, was the unwitting aplice.


    "She doesn''t truly hate Gaemon. She just doesn''t want to confront it," Rhaenyra exined softly from the sidelines.


    Visenya stood by, clutching the hem of her skirt, her small hands gripping her younger brother Aegor tightly.


    Daemon took a deep breath, feigning indifference. "Let her be. She''s already gotten what she wanted."


    Ba still held the right to inherit Tyrosh, even though he had two sons��Gaemon, his firstborn, and Aenar, his second��both carrying the Targaryen name. Gaemon was being raised by his cousin Rhaenys and had the young dragon Thunderstrider by his side, securing his future. Aenar, meanwhile, had his mother, Mysaria, and the care of his two older half-sisters. As long as the children didn''t sh too often, Daemon thought, that was all that mattered.


    Rhaenyra nodded, well-acquainted with her foster daughter��s nature. Ba was a good girl, one who despised intrigue and maniption��but fate had made her a girl in a world ruled by men. Taking care of her half-brothers was her way of defying Daemon.


    "You��ve raised quite the fine group of children," Daemon remarked, shifting the conversation. His gaze fell on Visenya. "You only have one daughter. Why not find her apanion who��s been by her side since childhood?"


    "Gaemon?" Rhaenyra was caught off guard, not expecting him to bring it up.


    Daemon nodded. "Yes. He��s thest piece of Laena left behind."


    "I��ll consider it," Rhaenyra replied carefully, unwilling tomit. "But Maekar is very protective of his sister. We should wait until the children are older before discussing such things."


    "Maekar?!" Visenya perked up at the mention of her half-brother''s name, still tugging at Aegor��s face. Aegor, looking like a rag doll, drooled helplessly as his sister manhandled him.


    "You misheard," Rhaenyra sighed, gently prying her son from Visenya''s grip. She gave her daughter a yful nudge. "Go have a look at Morghul. You might like it."


    A newly hatched dragon was undeniably valuable, and for a girl without one, there was hope in taming such a creature.


    "That ugly dragon?" Visenya wrinkled her nose, ncing over at the young, earth-colored dragon tearing into its meal. It looked more like a winged desert lizard, its sharp scales and horns leaving marks on the Dragonstone floor.


    "I��ll go!" Visenya��s eyes lit up as she pounded her chest excitedly and ran off.


    The dragon might be ugly, but it looked fierce��just like the viinous beast in her storybooks, the one that always stole the princess away. And she liked it. Fierce and ugly was just her type.

 Chapter 621: Baelon and the Children of the Forest

    Chapter 621: Baelon and the Children of the Forest


    The Rivends: High Heart.


    A towering hill in the Rivends, nestled between Riverrun, Harrenhal, and Pinkmaiden Castle. Halfway up the hill, a group of three banners bearing the red dragon pitched camp.


    "Kermit, it''s your turn to y," said one of the tentmates as the three half-grown boys sat in a circle, ying cards.


    The red-haired boy whose name was called looked torn, his eyes darting back and forth between the other two.


    "Hurry up and y, we''re going to eat dinner soon," Baelon urged with a smile, nudging his new friend.


    "Yes, yes, y," chimed in the other boy, a short one with ck hair and dark eyes, his face breaking into a bashful smile. If you looked closely, you could see that beneath the harmless doll-like face, there was always a hint of restlessness.


    "Don''t rush me, Ben!" Kermit threw a card down and kicked his best friend.


    Benjicot yelped in pain and innocently hid behind the heir prince.


    "Don''t bully him, you sly fish," Baelon teased, clearly fond of the introverted Benjicot, as he yfully chided Kermit, who shared his interests.Of the three boys, the eldest was already neen. His grandfather had been thete Lord Tully, and his father, Elmo Tully, was now the current Lord of Riverrun.


    Benjicot, standing next to Baelon, was no slouch either. He hailed from the ancient House ckwood, his father being Samwell ckwood. He was two years older than Baelon and had just turned twelve that year.


    As the three finished their round of cards, Harwin Strong, known as the "Breakbones," lifted the tent p andughed, "Time to eat, boys."


    "Okay," Baelon said, rising and pping his hands. He took the lead as Kermit followed on the left. "I''ll go find Oscar. We''ll continue ying cardster," Kermit added.


    Oscar was his younger brother, who had just turned sixteen. Their father, Elmo Tully, had left orders that Kermit was to make friends with the heir prince. However, Kermit thought it unnecessary��<em>the heir prince was certainly worth befriending.</em> Oscar would agree.


    ...


    That night.


    The moon shone brightly, though dark clouds veiled much of the sky. Inside his tent, Baelony with his head resting on someone''s thigh, drifting into a deep sleep. The boys had yedte into the night, and after dinner, they had gone hunting together. Exhausted, they fell into slumber quickly.


    <em>Whoosh.</em>


    A cool night breeze swept through the tent, brushing against Baelon''s cheeks like a gentle hand. He frowned, turning over to avoid the drafting from the entrance.


    But that wasn''t enough.


    Suddenly, the air around him felt unnaturally still. Baelon stirred, opening his eyes groggily, his senses tingling with unease.


    "..."


    His vision was still blurry, but an odd murmur echoed in his ears. The sound was both near and distant��loud and soft, thick and thin��like the whispers of 10,000 voices all at once.


    "What��s that noise?" Still half-asleep, Baelon sat up, rubbing his eyes, and climbed out of the tent.


    "Quack, quack, quack..."


    Complete silence greeted him, save for the rasping call of a lone crow perched high in the treetops. The world around him felt distant, as if he were walking between dreams and reality.


    Compelled by something he could not name, Baelon began to move, stepping slowly up the hill, unaware of how much time had passed.


    Atst, his surroundings opened up, revealing a strange sight. At the top of the mountain stood 31 weirwood stumps, arranged in a perfect circle��an eerie, ancient altar.


    "Run, someone ising..."


    "Someone, with a sword..."


    "..."


    As soon as Baelon took in his surroundings, the whispers in his ears grew louder, as if they were being screamed.


    <em>Whoosh.</em>


    The next moment, a piercing night wind blew,pletely dispelling his sleepiness. In the distance, through the darkness, clusters of firelight suddenly appeared.


    "Who''s there? And who are you?" Baelon called out.


    He couldn��t open his eyes against the wind, so he shielded his face with his arms, peeking through the gaps. Torches and figures were gradually approaching the foot of the mountain.


    <em>Tapping, tapping, tapping...</em>


    Light footsteps sounded behind him. Baelon quickly turned, eyes wide. In the dark, the stumps of the Weirwoods, arranged in a circle, resembled wordless tombstones, giving off an eerie, strange atmosphere.


    A short figure shed past and disappeared behind one of the stumps. Baelon rubbed his eyes hard, making sure he wasn''t mistaken. <em>I saw it,</em> he thought. <em>That figure was definitely not human.</em>


    Less than four feet tall, it was covered in green bark armor, wearing a helmet iid withrge antlers. In its hands, it held a spear made of stone and wood, primitive and unadorned.


    <em>Hum...</em>


    Before Baelon could open his mouth, the whispering in his ears vanished. He strained to listen for those inexplicable sounds again, but all he could hear was the howling of the night wind and the chirping of insects.


    <em>"What was that... a half-human?"</em> Baelon wondered, his heart racing. Despite his youth, he had always harbored fantasies of seeing a Grumpkin. <em>But that... that couldn''t be a Grumpkin. They don��t have the magic to disappear into Weirwood stumps... do they?</em>


    "Who else ising?" Baelon whispered, confused. He quickly turned his gaze back to the fire at the foot of the mountain. It was dense, like ants swarming.


    He remembered his father��s mission. <em>From the Kingsroad to Harrenhal, Riverrun, and Crow��s Wood... Tonight we pass through High Heart, and tomorrow morning, we''ll head for Pinkmaiden Castle.</em>


    "No, they''reing for me!" Baelon suddenly realized, a shiver running down his spine. He turned and bolted toward the camp halfway up the mountain, shouting all the while to alert the soldiers on patrol.


    ...


    It was the middle of the night.


    "Kill! The eldest son of the Dragonlord is at the top of the mountain!"


    "Cut off the heir prince''s head and teach that shit-for-brains king a lesson!"


    ...


    The night wind howled, shaking the mes of the bonfires scattered in the darkness. It was unclear how many were in the chaotic army that charged up High Heart, hacking and shing indiscriminately at thebined forces of the royal guard and the Knights of the Rivends. The defenders numbered less than a hundred and were on the verge of copse.


    Inside the tent, Baelon was panting alongside the other boys.


    "Prince, you must evacuate through the back of the mountain," Lyonel said gravely, unsheathing his long-unused two-handed sword.


    "Who are they?" Baelon asked, still rtively calm despite the chaos. He noticed the attackers had an ent from the Rivends.


    Lyonel''s voice was deep. "They are those who oppose your father."


    After saying this, Lyonel lifted the tent��s curtain and locked eyes with Samwell ckwood, who stood guard at the entrance.


    "What can I do for you, my lord?" Samwell asked, his eyes steady and his posture as straight as a sword.


    Lyonel did not hesitate. "Protect the prince. I��ve already sent a raven to Harrenhal for reinforcements," he said solemnly.


    "Don''t worry," Samwell responded without hesitation. He entered the tent, grabbed the dazed Baelon by the arm, and tossed a long sword to his son, Benjicot.


    "Give me a sword," Kermit demanded, grimacing as he thought of his father leading the resistance outside. His own sword was still in his tent, and he stood weaponless.


    Samwell nced at him, then drew a dagger from his belt and tossed it to the boy. "Follow me."


    ...


    The group rushed out of the tent, weaving through the war-torn camp and escaping down the back of the mountain. Behind them, the sounds of fighting and screams echoed through the stillness of the midnight air.


    Baelon nced back hastily at the circle of Weirwood stumps at the mountain''s peak, his heart still pounding with shock. <em>Someone��s trying to kill me... yet someone��something��warned me,</em> he thought, breath quickening.


    ��There are people here! Follow me!�� Samwell shouted.


    Several soldiers with strange ents charged at them, drawing their bows and firing without hesitation.


    <em>ng! ng!</em> Samwell swung his long sword, deflecting the arrows.


    Despite the darkness, their archery was first-rate��far more urate than anything Baelon had seen in the Rivends. <em>Who are these men?</em> Baelon wondered. His sharp eyesight caught a detail��the soldiers�� boots were caked with a thickyer of salt, hardened from years at sea.


    <em>Whoosh!</em>


    An arrow flew past, grazing Baelon''s cheek and leaving a bloody cut.


    ��Protect the Prince!�� Samwell bellowed, charging ahead with his sword raised. Kermit followed closely, hurling his dagger, which struck a soldier in the thigh.


    A brutal melee ensued.


    ��This one has silver hair!�� one of the attackers yelled.


    Two soldiers were blocked, while two others charged straight at the boys. Oscar was struck by an arrow and fell to the ground, screaming in pain.


    ��Cut off his head, and we��ll get paid!�� one soldier snarled, slinging his bow and drawing a serrated knife.


    ��You��re Ironborn!�� Baelon muttered, retreating slowly, his eyes wide with realization.


    ��So what?�� The Ironbornughed maniacally, licking his cracked lips.


    ��No more talk. Just do it,�� the second Ironborn growled, stepping forward with sinister intent, eager to im his prize.


    Baelon��s breath was ragged as he gripped Dragon w hilt strapped to his back. <em>Just one opening,</em> he thought, waiting for the moment to strike.


    ��Say goodbye to your king, boy,�� the Ironborn sneered, extending his filthy hands��fingernails caked in dirt��towards Baelon.


    It was a critical moment.


    ��Get out of the way, you stinking fish-eating Ironborn!�� Benjicot, who had been trembling, suddenly snapped. His face went pale, but his eyes red with a near-mad, red glow as he charged forward.


    As soon as the shout left his mouth, Benjicot hurled a stone and leapt.


    <em>Bang!</em>


    The Ironborn swung his sword to block, but the next second, the stone smashed into his head, leaving his cheek a bloody mess mixed with brain matter. Benjicot rolled across the ground, a curved knife lodged in his shoulder de. Despite the injury, he sprang up like a wounded beast.


    ��Damn you, Ironborn!�� he spat, blood dribbling from his mouth. His baby face twisted into a fierce expression, a bloodthirsty grin curling at the corners.


    Like a monster unleashed after too long in chains, Benjicot lunged at another Ironborn soldier.


    ��Freak boy,�� the Ironborn muttered, shocked, scrambling to grab his bow and arrow.


    <em>Pop��</em>


    A sharp sword pierced his groin. With a brutal twist and tug, Baelon removed the root of his agony.


    ��Ahhh!�� The Ironborn��s eyes bulged, his scream echoing as blood spilled.


    Without hesitation, Baelon drove Dragon w de into the man��s tilted chin. Blood sprayed as the water-rippled de sliced through bone, protruding from the back of the soldier��s skull.


    ��Let��s go help Lord Sam,�� Baelon called out to Benjicot, his voice trembling as he took in his first kill.


    ��No!�� Benjicot��s eyes widened as he yanked Baelon, dragging him further down the mountain.


    ��What are you doing? We have to help!�� Baelon protested, panic rising in his chest.


    ��No!�� Benjicot growled through gritted teeth, panting hard. ��We need to get to Harrenhal.�� His eyes were still wild with rage, but somehow, he��d regained his senses.


    Baelon struggled, breaking free from Benjicot��s grip. He took advantage of the darkness, slipping into the undergrowth and heading downhill.


    ncing back, he saw the fire spreading across the hilltop. The distant sh of steel on flesh still echoed in the night.


    Then, through the smoke, a tiny flicker of fire appeared in the distance. The whinny of a warhorse followed, and at the front of the approaching cavalry, Baelon spotted a silver trout banner, rippling with red and blue stripes.


    As the first light of morning broke through, dispersing the cold and dark clouds of the night, Baelon stood transfixed. He swallowed, trying to moisten his dry throat.


    Reinforcements had arrived.


    ...


    A monthter.


    King''s Landing, Dragonpit.


    "Roar!"


    Syrax crouched low, stretching its neck as a deafening roar reverberated through the cavernous pit.


    ��Quiet, Syrax,�� the Dragonkeepers murmured, gathering on either side of the massive golden beast, their hands outstretched in calming gestures. Syrax, emotionally sensitive, trembled but gradually lowered its head, the roar subsiding into a deep growl.


    A short distance away, in the shadows of a dark dragon pit...


    <em>Cough...</em>


    Rhaegar emerged, covered in dust, coughing as he shielded his nose and mouth with his hand.


    "How was it?" Rhaenyra asked, crouching beside the pit, her voiceced with nervous anticipation.


    ��Good,�� Rhaegar panted, a grin spreading across his face. ��Six eggs in total, and two have already cracked.��

 Chapter 622: The Dragons of Dragonstone Island.

    Chapter 622: The Dragons of Dragonstone Ind.


    "Gather your clothes and tell the Dragonkeepers to calm Syrax, whoid its eggs not long ago."


    "Let''s go too," Rhaegar said, taking Rhaenyra''s hand. He was in excellent spirits. The House had gained two young dragons and several eggs. It was perfect timing for the House to flourish, as he had been worried there wouldn''t be enough dragons for his descendants. But as it turned out, he could always count on the Goddess of Abundance, Syrax.


    "Your Grace, someone is here to see you," Erryk said, guarding the entrance to the Dragonpit, reporting at the first opportunity.


    "Who?" Rhaegar asked, curious.


    Erryk''s face was solemn as he leaned closer. "It''s best if you see for yourself."


    Puzzled, Rhaegar looked down the steps. A carriage bearing banners of a ��Leaping Trout�� and ��Crows Surrounding a Weirwood�� was pulling up, and inside were two short, unshaven boys.


    "Your Grace, Benjicot ckwood, Lord of Raventree Hall, sends his regards," the boy with ck hair cautiously stepped forward, his voice trembling with fear.


    The other, a redhead who appeared slightly older, bowed forcefully. "Oscar Tully of Riverrun. May the light of the old and new gods shine upon you, Your Grace."


    The two boys were dusty and travel-worn, without a single servant or knight apanying them. At first nce, they seemed miserable and out of ce, evoking sympathy from those who saw them. However, Rhaegar caught the key detail in the boy��s words and looked at the ckwood boy in surprise."You say you��re the Lord of Raventree Hall?" Rhaegar asked, bewildered. Everyone knows Samwell ckwood is the Lord of Raventree Hall


    "My father is dead," Benjicot said quietly, his eyes vacant, before straightening his posture. "He died protecting the heir prince. His throat was cut by the Ironborn during the chaos."


    Rhaegar��s face went cold, his mind unwilling to ept what he��d just heard.


    The two boys then recounted the grim events. Baelon had been traveling through the Rivends with the Hand of the King, Lyonel Strong, along with the Lords of Riverrun and Raventree.


    They were attacked in the dead of night by an unknown force, no fewer than 500 men, including Ironborn, Rivends locals, and Sellswords.


    The new Lord of Riverrun, Elmo Tully, was struck by a stray arrow and killed instantly. Lord Samwell ckwood died heroically defending the rear of the "boys."


    "And Ser Harwin Strong," Benjicot added, his head hanging like a guilty child. "Lord Harwin led the charge and fell under the Sellswords'' des. He was a brave Lord, but he had never seen true battle before. He rushed in recklessly and lost his life in the first wave."


    "He was Commander of the City Watch," Rhaegar muttered, still in shock, unable to fully process the tragic news.


    "Your Grace, there''s also this," Benjicot nudged Oscar.


    Without a word, Oscar reached into a bag and pulled out a small box, handing it over to the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.


    "Your Grace." Erryk opened the box and held it up for the King to see.


    Rhaegar leaned in, his gaze locking onto the contents��a bloodied Hand of the King brooch. His pupils contracted sharply.


    "Your Grace, Lord Lyonel is still alive," Oscar blurted, his voice trembling. "The Hand of the King was captured. The Ironborn cut off his hand, trying to force him to reveal our whereabouts."


    Rhaegar��s stomach twisted with both relief and uncertainty. "Why didn��t Lyonel return to see me?" he asked, unsure if he should feel grateful or devastated.


    Oscar sniffled, sympathy creeping into his voice. "Lord Lyonel instructed us to offer his resignation as Hand of the King. He also said that without a Hand of the King, no one can assist the King... and you must not be called the Handless King."


    "Seven hells!" Rhaegar cursed, closing his eyes as his hand balled into a fist behind his back. He had anticipated resistance to his attempts to centralize power and suppress the aristocracy, but he hadn��t expected the first blow toe so swiftly.


    "Haha, is this meant to intimidate me?" Rhaegar��s eyes shed with cold determination. "Where is Baelon? What is his condition?"


    Having sacrificed so many skilled advisers and generals, he could not afford to lose hisst valuable asset.


    "The Prince is fine," Oscar said, wiping the tears from his eyes. "He led us in quelling the rebellion and used my father��s funeral to solidify the Rivends."


    Rhaegar��s expression remained stern as he pondered. "Riverrun is now inherited by your brother Kermit Tully?"


    Oscar nodded, managing a faint smile. "Yes, Your Grace."


    Rhaegar thought for a moment, recalling the wild and rash reputation of Kermit Tully. His father and grandfather had beenckluster, but the great-grandchildren were surprisingly capable. <em>''Good from bad,''</em> Rhaegar mused.


    Though momentarily satisfied, Rhaegar��s concern for Baelon lingered. "Where is Baelon? Why hasn��t hee to see me?" he asked again, worried that the battle had drained his son��s courage.


    "The Prince is not with me. He��s returned to Dragonstone," Benjicot answered, his breathing quickening. "He is the Prince of Dragonstone, and he will lead our revenge."


    Oscar quickly added, "There are dragons on Dragonstone, and the Prince set sail from Rook��s Rest three days ago."


    A damned attack had taken their fathers, and now the heir prince had sworn to ride a dragon and bring justice.


    Rhaegar fell silent, feeling a glimmer offort. At least Baelon was taking action. There was some hope left in the tragedy.


    Seeing that the King had no more questions, Erryk motioned for the boys to head to the inn and rest. A cmity had struck the Rivends��the heir prince had narrowly escaped death, and the Hand of the King had lost his hand. Someone would surely pay.


    As the boys descended the steps, they nced back repeatedly. After a moment, Benjicot gathered his courage and called out, "Your Grace, the Prince asks that you don��t go to war recklessly on his behalf. He vows to repay blood with fire himself."


    Rhaegar froze, contemting the words. The thought of using the Iron Inds as an example vanished from his mind.


    A slow smile spread across his face. "Good. I��ll wait," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction. <em>''If this lights a fire within my eldest son, the losses in the Rivends will be worth it.''</em>


    The boys departed, and Rhaegar and Rhaenyra walked together, exchanging a meaningful nce. Rhaenyra��s eyes shimmered with worry, unable to fathom the horrors her son had endured.


    "Don��t worry," Rhaegar said, his voice calm as he stroked her fair cheek. "Everything is turning for the better. Sending the two young dragons to Dragonstone might help."


    "Mmm," Rhaenyra murmured, leaning into him in silent agreement.


    ...


    Midday.


    The waters of ckwater Bay were calm, a deceptive tranquility before the storm.


    An imposing armada cut through the sea, a dozenrge ships sailing abreast, each surging toward King''s Landing with the weight of a thousand tons of momentum.


    "Roar!"


    A silver-gray dragon soared through the sky, its mist-colored wings cutting through the clouds as it ascended, leaving the waves behind. The Great Council of the Targaryens had been called, summoning back bloodlines long scattered.


    "Roar..."


    A royal ship, flying the banner of three red dragons, sliced through the gaps in the mighty fleet, heading straight for the capital.


    Below deck, the cabin was dimly lit by a flickering campfire.


    "Roar..."


    From the shadows, two newly hatched dragons strained against their cages. Their ferocious instincts were already evident as they mmed into the bars, eyes wide with wild fury, sparks flickering in their gaze.


    The campfire swayed with each violent thud, casting long shadows that danced with the increasing noise.


    One young dragon, covered in gray-green scales, had scarlet wing membranes and jagged dorsal fins, its mouth brimming with sharp teeth.


    The other was ck and purple, its scales marked by deep purple stripes, while two sharp, pale horns jutted from its forehead,pleting its menacing appearance.


    ...


    Outside, the majestic fleet sailed past, its grandeurmanding the sea.


    Trailing discreetly behind was an inconspicuous three-masted ship, clinging closely to the fleet��s shadow.


    On its deck stood rows of ve soldiers, their faces branded with the unmistakable mark of ver��s Bay. The sails, pping in the wind, revealed a striking image��a pair of green dragons entwined, forming a unique totem of two dragons standing side by side.


    At the bow of the ship stood a silver-haired figure, her face partially obscured by a silk scarf. She watched the royal ship pass, her gaze unwavering and intense.


    Her delicate white ears twitched slightly, as though she had just heard a sound that filled her with ecstasy.


    A slow, satisfied smile crossed her face as she narrowed her eyes in happiness.


    ...


    Across the sea, at Dragonstone.


    A ship flying the banner of Rook��s Rest docked at the ind, and a group of people disembarked, making their way ashore.


    "This is Dragonstone?" a tall, ck-haired woman with a bow slung across her back murmured, her voice filled with awe as she took in the surroundings.


    "This is my territory; no need for formality," Baelon said, walking ahead, unconcerned.


    d in a ck robe, the teen Prince had changed noticeably since a month ago.


    His eyes now carried a depth and sharpness beyond his years, and his entire demeanor exuded newfound maturity. The most visible mark of this transformation was the horizontal scar on his left cheek, a finger��s width long. It had marred his once-childish face, recing innocence with an air of determination and resolve.


    The ck-haired woman nced at him briefly before following in silence. Her name was Alysanne ckwood, younger sister of thete Lord of Raventree and now aunt to the current Lord, Benjicot.


    During the chaos of the War of the High Heart, she had shot and killed several Ironborn in the skirmish that imed her brother Samwell��s life.


    Her thick, dark curls had earned her the nickname "ck Aly." Though not beautiful��her skin neither fair nor soft, her face long and horse-like with prominent cheekbones��Alysanne was a skilled archer and had since be the personal bodyguard of the heir prince.


    "Let��s go, Aly," Baelon said quietly, each step he took on the sandy beach heavy.


    ...


    The group, led by the Dragonkeepers, bypassed the Drum Tower and headed straight for the jagged, towering peak of Dragonmont.


    At the foot of the mountain, the elderly Dragonkeeper looked troubled and kept asking for confirmation. "Prince, are you truly nning to live here?"


    "Yes," Baelon replied firmly, his gaze fixed on the smoky cave above. "It doesn''t matter how long it takes��I''ll wait forever if I must."


    The elderly Dragonkeeper hunched over, trying to reason with him. "Vhagar is old and ugly, Your Grace. A young Prince like you should choose a more fitting dragon."


    "Sorry, I''m not much for advice," Baelon said, shaking his head, his pride unmistakable. "I want it��the founding dragon that fought alongside the Conqueror."


    Seeing no way to convince him, the Dragonkeeper sighed in resignation and retreated. After giving orders for the Dragonkeepers to patrol the area, Baelon unsheathed his sword and began chopping down a tree trunk, intent on building a cabin.


    "Tasks like these should be left to the servants," said Alysanne, setting down her bow and offering to help with the firewood.


    "If I''m going to live here, I need to be self-sufficient," Baelon replied, swinging his sword with practiced precision. He nced back at her, adding, "Keep your bow ready. We��re not safe here."


    "Who would dare attack the crown prince of a kingdom on Dragonstone?" Alysanne asked, crossing her arms as though the notion were absurd.


    "You''ll see," Baelon muttered, unwilling to borate.


    For years, he had avoided setting foot on Dragonstone, not out of fear of the ind itself, but because of a lurking threat��a relentless foe driven by vengeance, haunting him across the ind.


    Meanwhile, high above, at the summit of Dragonmont...


    "Roar!"


    A young dragon with dark, glistening scales and scarlet dorsal finsy on the rocky ledge, its menacing eyes locked on the silver-haired boy below. Even from a distance, the malice in its gaze was unmistakable.

 Chapter 623: Two Wisps of Smoke on the Sea

    Chapter 623: Two Wisps of Smoke on the Sea


    King''s Landing, the forecourt of the Red Keep.


    Rhaegar strode briskly, his tone light. ��I hear the docks in Vntis are full of ships?��


    ��The Mud Gate is still a bit small,�� Daeron joked solemnly, following close behind.


    His nephew Maekar had returned to King''s Landing, unloading a dozenrge ships filled with the specialities of Essos at the docks.


    Suddenly, Daeron, young and bold, asked, ��I heard about what happened to Lord Lyonel.��


    A loyal Hand of the King who had done his duty, yet had not been protected.


    Rhaegar was silent for a moment, nodding slightly. ��Lord Lyonel��s efforts will not go unrewarded.��


    His eldest son had been attacked, and several lords loyal to the throne had been killed.


    Even if his son intended to seek revenge himself, some form of retribution needed to be taken in advance. The only question was who was behind it. The Iron Inds, the Braavosi, or the remnants of the Triarchy?Seeing his brother��s smile fade, Daeron realized he had said the wrong thing and quickly changed the subject. ��Lord Lyonel��s retirement is not necessarily a bad thing. Although both of his sons are dead, Ser Harwin has left him three adorable grandchildren.��


    ��Oh, that��s good,�� Rhaegar replied, a little taken aback. He was puzzled. ��When did Harwin get married?��


    Even if he was themander of the City Watch he had never heard anything about Harwin��s marriage.


    ��It was an alliance with the daughter of a minor noble family in the Westends. The wedding was hastily held at Stone Hedge,�� Daeron exined, grinning. ��I also heard Lord Lyonel named one of his blond-haired, blue-eyed grandsons Larys, in memory of his youngest son with the bent foot.��


    Rhaegar was pleased for a moment, but then his smile faded. ��Blond-haired and blue-eyed?��


    The Strong family was known for their brown hair, lion-like noses, and their sturdy, robust appearance.


    ��Yes, all three grandchildren are blond and blue-eyed, and their high noses give them a very heroic appearance,�� Daeron continued, oblivious.


    Hearing this, Rhaegar suddenly fell silent. <em>Could a marriage that existed in name only have performed the miracle of altering the family��s defining traits?</em>


    ��What��s wrong, brother?�� Daeron asked, finally catching on. As realization dawned, he too fell silent. He lowered his head, picking at the skin around his nails in frustration. <em>Damn it! All those years of studying, and for what?</em>


    As they continued to walk, Rhaegar could no longer bear the silence. He asked in a low voice, ��Where did Aemond run off to?��


    <em>Whoever is behind this, we��ll start with the Ironborn in the Iron Inds. We can��t let loyal advisors die without consequences.</em>


    ��As soon as Aemond left the battlefield, he ran to Storm��s End,�� Daeron said, flushing.


    Seeing Daeron��s difort, Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed. ��Why would he go to Storm��s End when his marriage to Cassandra has already been annulled? The Stornds won��t wee him.��


    Daeron stammered, ��Well, Lady Elenda����


    He hesitated, unable to say more.


    Rhaegar frowned. <em>Why mention the widow of Lord Borros?</em>


    ��He, they���� Daeron blushed again, then grit his teeth. ��Aemond has abandoned Lady Celine and is now entangled with Lady Elenda.��


    ��Huh?�� Rhaegar��s eyes darkened with disbelief.


    ��How dare he?�� he muttered, almost stumbling, teeth clenched in frustration. <em>That��s the widow of a Lord of the Realm, the Regent of Storm��s End with half the real power! Even if you count by age, she��s far from young!</em>


    ��Brother, don��t be angry,�� Daeron said seriously. ��Aemond hasn��t caused any real trouble; it��s just his private life that��s�� not proper.��


    ��Not proper?�� Rhaegar could no longer contain his outrage. <em>As far as I know, both thete Cassandra and the unmarried Floris have already shared his bed. Isn��t that enough? Must he now involve himself with Lady Elenda too?</em>


    ��And what kind of example is this setting for her children?�� Rhaegar muttered, rolling his eyes. He shrugged and marched on ahead, his frustration palpable. ��Send a raven to Storm��s End. Tell Aemond to take his dragon and attack the Iron Inds. Teach the Ironborn a lesson.��


    <em>He has to be of use after all. He��s left me with such a mess and wants to act like Aegon? No way!</em>


    ...


    The next day, the Small Council was convened.


    Rhaegar sat in the main seat, nked by his father, Viserys, and his uncle, Daemon. The rest of the Small Council members were arranged around them. Across the table, Aemon and Maekar sat side by side, facing their father, who exuded a majestic presence.


    <em>Knock, knock!</em>


    ��My lords, we have won the battle of Qohor. What should we do next?��


    Rhaegar tapped the ck and green stone ball on the table, surveying the room.


    ��Of course, we fight on!�� Aemon, eager and brimming with excitement, was the first to raise his hand.


    Maekar��s face tightened as he secretly tugged his brother��s sleeve, signaling him to be quiet. Rhaegar nced at his two sons, choosing to ignore their excitement for the moment. ��Who would like to speak?�� he asked calmly.


    Though his eldest son wasn��t in King''s Landing, both his second and third sons would one day be key figures in the realm. It was important they be familiar with power, even if they held no real authority yet. The scene grew quiet and somewhat awkward, until Daemon leaned back in his chair and spoke casually, ��I agree with my grandnephew��s suggestion. Foreigners will never be honest unless they��re beaten.��


    ��That��s right,�� Aemon chimed in again, beaming with energy.


    ��Quiet!�� Rhaegar snapped, cutting off his son��s over-eager nonsense. Of all his children, Aemon, with his restless spirit, was the most troublesome. Chastened, Aemon wilted, his enthusiasm draining like a de of grass under the sun''s heat.


    Turning back to his uncle, Rhaegar��s tone was sharper now. ��Tell me your thoughts. The Four City Alliance has yet to be truly crippled.��


    It was the height of the long summer, and the prophecy of the conqueror loomed ever closer. Two critical tasksy before the kingdom. First, they needed to centralize power and raise arge enough army to repel any invasion before disaster struck. Second, they had to quell external threats, starting with the Four City Alliance, the Iron Inds, and the Basilisk Isles. Only once these were aplished could they hope to face the greater trials ahead.


    Daemon, though unfamiliar with the prophecies of A Song of Ice and Fire, had his own strategy. ��Qohor is our foothold in Essos,�� he began, his voice steady with confidence. He paused, then pulled a map of the two continents onto the table, pointing to the location of Norvos. ��The Four City Alliance has the advantage of geography, army, and wealth, but their inability to unite weakens them significantly.��


    He traced the path across the Norvos Mountains. ��As long as we can break through Norvos'' defenses, the rest of the Alliance will falter. They won��t be able to cross the mountains or prate our strongholds at Qohor.��


    Rhaegar frowned thoughtfully, following his uncle��s logic. The mountains in northern Essos were a natural barrier, especially the Norvos range that split the region. With their dragons, if they could secure Norvos, the other Free Cities would be unable to join forces, and Qohor would remain untouchable.


    ��That��s a solid n,�� Rhaegar acknowledged.


    Viserys, however, was more cautious. He stroked his chin and spoke slowly, ��But after this battle, the treasury has suffered a great loss. Continuing the war will strain our resources, especially if trade across the Narrow Sea is disrupted.��


    The kingdom��s ie depended heavily on the three Free Cities. Prolonging the conflict could cripple maritime trade, plunging the kingdom into financial turmoil.


    ��Father, we don��t have much time,�� Rhaegar whispered, his voice low but urgent. ��We must find a solution soon.�� His concern wasn��t just with Essos. Recent news from the North weighed heavily on him. Just days ago, more reports had arrived from the Wall. The wildlings beyond the Wall were gathering in force, moving southward with an army rumored to include giants and mammoths.


    It sounded extraordinary��almost unbelievable��but in times like these, even the absurd was beginning to feel all too real.


    ...


    Viserys sighed. ��You know, war requires money.��


    ��Yes, the royal treasury cannot sustain such heavy spending,�� Lyman said slowly, his eyes dimming. ��The ie from the three Free Cities has already been invested in fortifying the Stepstones, and funds were recently allocated to the Greenblood River as well. The expenses have been considerable.��


    As the Master of Coin and guardian of the royal treasury, Lyman took his role seriously. Even the king couldn''t spend a single golden dragon recklessly. Failing to bnce the kingdom''s finances could lead to its ruin.


    Before Rhaegar could respond, Daemon interjected. ��Lord Lyman, do you have any idea how fierce the war across the sea is? It��s a lot more than just sitting here, counting money.��


    His tone was mocking, and the meaning behind his words was clear. Lyman, already elderly, red back angrily. ��Prince, no one is forcing you to go to war. My sons and grandsons have also sacrificed their lives for this kingdom.��


    ��Haha, a loyal family for generations,�� Daemon scoffed, taking a sip of wine. A faint smile yed on his lips. How could an adviser who had never faced battle understand the brutal reality of blood and fire?


    Seeing the tension rise, Tnd, more lighthearted and cautious, tried to defuse the situation. ��Your Grace, I agree we need to fight, but perhaps it would be wiser to focus on ver''s Bay instead.��


    His brother was still imprisoned in the dungeons of ver��s Bay.


    ��You be quiet for now, Lord Tnd,�� Rhaegar said, his tone cross, clearly unimpressed. Tnd grinned sheepishly and retreated into silence.


    The other council members, the Grand Maester and the Master of Whisperers, remained quiet. Jasper, the Master of Laws, hesitated before speaking up in a low voice. ��Your Grace, whether or not we wage war, King''s Landing needs a capable Hand of the King.��


    ��This is the most constructive suggestion I��ve heard!�� Viserys��s eyes lit up as he patted the table in approval. Lyonel��s resignation had been weighing heavily on him.


    Rhaegar looked around. His council wasn��t keen on the war, but they were certainly eager to debate the next Hand of the King.


    <em>Sigh...</em>


    He sighed deeply and waved his hand dismissively. ��Given all your enthusiasm, who do you suggest as a suitable candidate?��


    He knew his advisers, including his father, all too well. They were experts at infighting but amateurs at handling external threats. When it came to pressing matters, they would feign ignorance or dodge responsibility, yet they��d argue endlessly over trivial details. They wouldn��t even entertain a battle n until the question of the Hand was settled.


    After speaking, Rhaegar rested his hand on his forehead and looked down, frustration building.


    Daemon, observing his nephew��s weariness, smirked wryly and raised his ss in a silent toast. He, too, had once been fed up with the endless debates in the Small Council and had spent much of his time among the City Watch and flea market dwellers instead.


    Rhaegar gave him a discreet wink, signaling they would continue the real conversation in private.


    ��Mm-hm,�� Daemon grunted, gulping down his drink and resting his hand on the hilt of Dark Sister at his waist. As a Prince of House Targaryen, his duty was clear.


    ...


    Three dayster.


    Shipbreaker Bay.


    "Roar!"


    A grotesque dragon, caked in mud, soared across the bay. Its massive, dirty wings pped heavily, casting a shadow over the churning sea. Though enormous and fearsome, it was undeniably ugly��a monstrous blend of size, power, and raw ferocity.


    ��Faster, Sheepstealer!�� Aemond urged, gripping the reins tightly. His ck shirt clung to his body, his silver hair streaming wildly in the wind. His single eye scanned thends of Dorne below, filled with simmering hatred.


    The dragon surged forward, and in a sh, man and beast vanished into the clouds above.


    ...


    Time passed, unmeasured.


    "Roar!"


    An urgent roar split the heavy clouds as a pale silver dragon shot forth��Seasmoke. Beneath it, several pirate ships from the Triarchy rampaged near the Stepstones, preying on a lone cargo ship from Oldtown.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    Seasmoke dived, unleashing torrents of me that devoured the sails and deck of the pirate vessels. The ships were soon engulfed in dragonfire, their wooden frames crackling and copsing under the inferno.


    The dragon soared triumphantly back into the sky, nimble and proud, its movements swift. Yet, as it dodged a scorpion bolt fired from one of the pirate ships, Seasmoke��s turn was slightly stiff��its wing membrane bore arge tear, an injury from a previous battle.


    With a final ssh, the pirate ship sank beneath the waves.


    <em>Boom...</em>


    A pale shadow streaked across the sky, climbing back into the clouds. Upon closer inspection, a bloody gash could be seen on the dragon��s gray, battered wing. Its long, skeletal tail swungzily from side to side, the tip��resembling a bee��s sting��dripped with dried blood.


    Two smoky dragon silhouettes shed through the clouds, and the sea grew calm once more.


    ��There��s a ship here! Look!��


    Out of the mist, a pirate ship from the Triarchy appeared, drifting aimlessly toward the wreckage. The dozen pirates aboard sniffed the lingering sulfur from the dragonfire, hesitant but greedy. They began looting the half-empty ships abandoned by Oldtown��s merchants.


    ��Someone��s here!��


    A bearded pirate kicked open the cabin door, allowing sunlight to pour into the dark interior. Huddled inside, pale-faced ves flinched from the sudden brightness.


    Amid the group, two silver-haired men embraced. Their violet eyes, filled with exhaustion and desperation, now glimmered with hope as they looked toward the light.


    ��We are saved.��

 Chapter 624: Bloodbath in the Iron Islands

    Chapter 624: Bloodbath in the Iron Inds


    It was night.


    King''s Landing, the Red Keep.


    "Uncle, if we want to take Norvos, we need to act swiftly."


    "We don''t have enough troops."


    "But we have dragons!"


    In the dimly lit room, Rhaegar stood by the firece, bathed in the flickering light. His expression was serious. Daemon sat at the table, methodically preserving his sword, Dark Sister, by rubbing it with salt. The two, uncle and nephew, shared a rare moment of peace, talking in hushed tones. They were forced to seek counsel in private, as the Small Council was filled with ipetent, wine-sipping advisors who had grown toofortable in peacetime, unable to navigate the thorny path of conquest.


    Rhaegar''s gaze lingered over the map on the table, ambition gleaming in his eyes. ��The Forest of Qohor is vast, and Vntis controls the southern gulf. But if we conquer Norvos in the northern mountains, the Golden Fields��the most fertilend on the entire eastern continent of Essos��will be within our reach.��


    The firelight flickered, casting shadows on the map as Rhaegar pointed to the key areas. Daemon regarded it calmly. The northern mountains and dense forests enclosed a broad, fertile in. Essos, farrger than Westeros, was home to three great ins: the barren expanse near Pentos, the war-torn Disputed Lands, and the Golden Fields beyond the Andalos Mountains.


    The Golden Fields were the richest of them all, brimming with prosperity and fertilends, rivaling even the Rivends and The Reach. In terms of grain production and poption, they far surpassed the other two ins.Rhaegar continued, ��The Disputed Lands are expansive, but the usable territory is limited to the river basin. That��s not enough to generate the wealth we need.��


    The dozen small noble families in the region struggled with low taxes, barely supporting themselves. Waiting a dozen years to collect sufficient revenue was not an option. The realm��s coffers needed quicker, more substantial ie.


    Daemon, still polishing Dark Sister, replied evenly, ��The Golden Fields are rich, yes, but the towns and markets there are no less powerful than the great Free Cities. And don��t forget, the Iron Inds and the Triarchy lurk in the shadows��uncontroble factors in a prolonged war.��


    Wars, especially those fought across seas and mountains, were never easy. That was why the Small Council avoided discussions about Qohor and instead focused on electing a new Hand of the King. It wasn��t that the war itself was unpopr, but that it threatened the interests of various noble houses.


    Take Honeyholt, for example, where the Master of Coin, Lyman, was based. If the Summer Sea or the Narrow Sea were blocked, Honeyholt��s trade through Oldtown��s port would grind to a halt. The food and troops provided by the house would be requisitioned by the Iron Throne, and if they were unlucky enough to face a raid by the Ironborn, even their castle could be set aze. Under such risks, who would act recklessly?


    ��Every major decision the royal family makes impacts the interests of countless nobles and knights,�� Rhaegar murmured, fully aware of the burden of leadership. His expression grew cold. ��But I only care about House Targaryen.��


    He was done with the empty rhetoric of kingdom, honor, and sacrifice. The dark forces stirring in the North would soon threaten all of Westeros. When that time came, returning to Essos��beyond the Narrow Sea��would be House Targaryen��s only option.


    Controlling the Stepstones, the Disputed Lands, and adding the Free Cities of Vntis, Qohor, and Norvos would funnel half of Essos��s wealth into the Targaryen coffers. By then, the Free Cities of Braavos, Pentos, and Lorath would be nothing more than insignificant ports.


    Even if Rhaegar couldn��t achieve this in his lifetime, his descendants could. They would ride their dragons and sweep across thends. After all, House Targaryen had been the remnants of Valyria, surviving and migrating to Westeros. Three hundred years was a short span��certainly not enough to root them irrevocably in one ce. Returning to their ancestralnds and securing their future through dragons and wealth was a consideration every leader of their bloodline should make.


    ��You��re right. Securing the Golden Fields is key,�� Daemon said, his voice steady as he finally set aside his sword. A faint smile appeared on his lips. ��Compared to the goats of Westeros, Caraxes prefers the fat pigs of Qohor.��


    ��It��s settled, then,�� Rhaegar replied, tapping Daemon��s chest lightly. ��If we are to carry out this n, we must be united, fearless of losses or death.��


    Daemon��s eyes hardened with resolve. ��Let��s move quickly. We��ll strike Norvos and burn it to the ground if we must.��


    The Free Cities themselves weren��t the real prize��it was their strategic location that mattered.


    Rhaegar smiled slightly, his determination clear. ��Let��s do it then.��


    ...


    That same night,


    Pyke, the Iron Inds.


    ��Ahhh!��


    ��Dragons! Jump into the sea!��


    Cries of mortal terror echoed across the cold, damp ind, reverberating through the towering, ancient fortress of Pyke. The ind, dark and strange, was now lit by a flickering, ominous light.


    "Roar!"


    Sheepstealer��s brown mes tore through the night sky, casting an eerie glow over the vast sea. Aemond, his single eye shadowed with menace, gazed coldly down at the chaos below. ��Burn it all. Leave nothing behind,�� hemanded, his voice as icy as the northern winds.


    "Roar!"


    Sheepstealer circled Pyke, unleashing waves of Dragonfire at every window, every shadowed crevice. The mes licked across the stones, consuming anything that dared move, including the ironborn who scurried like insects across the doomed ind.


    ��Have mercy! Don��t kill me!��


    ��Run! The dragon ising!��


    Naked rock and salt wives, fleeing their homes in panic, were caught in the torrent of fire. The Dragonfire rained down like molten mud, incinerating everything in its path. The ind was consumed in mes, the air filled with pitiful screams and desperate pleas for mercy. Pyke had be an inferno.


    ��Hahahaha! These lowly ironborn,�� Aemondughed, his voice full of cruel delight. He sounded like the viin in a tavern song, but in the Iron Inds, where strength ruled all, there was no sense of irony. Only power.


    As the night wore on, the screams began to fade. In their ce, the crackling of roasting flesh filled the air, mingling with the sound of waves crashing against the scorched rocks.


    ��Find them! Where are they hiding?�� Aemond snarled, his satisfaction fleeting. His face, already cold as ice, grew even harder as he scoured the ind from atop his dragon. The Greyjoys were nowhere to be found. Neither was the infamous Red Kraken. Even the Ironborn fleet, usually patrolling the seas, had vanished.


    ��Damn it! Have they all gone to raid that worthless piece ofnd?�� Aemond��s single eye burned with frustration. In one night, he hadid waste to Pyke, Lordsport, and Old Wyk, killing more people than he had in the first half of his life. And yet, it wasn��t enough.


    "Roar!"


    Sheepstealer let out a dissatisfied growl, its belly shrinking with hunger, as if the mes it had spewed had drained its strength.


    ��Stop whining, you idiot,�� Aemond snapped, though his mind was already racing with new ns. Then an idea struck him. ��Come on, we��re heading to the Basilisk Isles. We��ll find a real feast there.��


    The group that had attacked his nephew had included Ironborn and sellswords. If the Red Kraken couldn��t be caught, the Triarchy��s mercenaries would make a suitable offering.


    "Roar!"


    Sheepstealer��s eyes glimmered with excitement at the prospect of a full meal. With a powerful p of its wings, the dragon soared into the night sky, heading toward the Summer Sea.


    Man and dragon disappeared into the distance, leaving behind nothing but scorched earth and the smoldering ruins of Pyke, still glowing from the devastation wrought by Dragonfire.


    ...


    The next day at dawn,


    Over ckwater Bay.


    "Roar..."


    Two dragons appeared from the mist, emerging out of nowhere as they soared across the calm waters of the bay. They climbed higher into the clouds, drawn by the distant roars. Therger of the two, a ck dragon the size of a mountain, spread its massive wings like a curtain draped from the heavens. The wind from its flight was so fierce that the early morning fishermen in their small boats were nearly capsized. Once they regained their bnce, cold sweat ran down their faces.


    "Roar..."


    A second dragon followed close behind. Blood-red and sleek like a serpent, it glided just above the water, its wide wings lightly tapping the surface and creating ripples in its wake.


    ...


    Meanwhile, in King��s Landing...


    Arge flock of ravens flew out of the Red Keep, bearing urgent messages to noble castles across the continent.


    "Roar!"


    "Roar..."


    A pale blue dragon and a golden oneunched from theirirs at the same time, each heading to separate destinations��Summerhall and the Stepstones. This morning��s royal decree had been issued: blockade the sea routes of the Narrow Sea and the Summer Sea. The armies near Dorne were to be ced under full martialw, with constant vignce against the pirates of the Basilisk Isles. As long as the war raged on, Sothoryos would be trapped.


    In the open-air corridor of the Red Keep...


    <em>Tap, tap, tap...</em>


    The sound of hurried footsteps echoed, ck boots striking the stone floor. Rhaenyra stood alone on the balcony, her gaze following the ravens as they disappeared into the horizon. The footsteps stopped, and she turned to see who had arrived.


    To her surprise, it was Ba Targaryen, her foster daughter, who stood there with a fierce look of determination.


    ��Daemon has gone,�� Ba said, her voice brimming with frustration.


    Rhaenyra''s heart softened at the sight of her. She could see the anger and hurt in Ba��s eyes. ��He is my father, but he has not fulfilled his responsibilities in the slightest!�� Ba''sints wereced with bitterness. She had waited three long years, hoping for a chance to see her father at the Targaryen Meeting, but he had left without a word.


    Rhaenyra gently stroked her daughter��s cheek. ��He��s already gone,�� she said, her voice tinged with helplessness. Daemon had never been a man of words; he expressed himself through action. Rhaenyra knew well that father and daughter were alike in spirit��both stubborn, both driven��making them nearly ipatible.


    ��I��m going to find him,�� Ba dered with fierce resolve. She was determined to prove her worth to Daemon, to show him she was just as strong and capable as any of the Targaryens before her. Just because Gaemon and Aenar were boys didn��t mean they could always outshine her.


    ��Ba, they��re heading to war,�� Rhaenyra said urgently, trying to dissuade her from the dangerous path she was considering. She could not bear the thought of her adopted daughter risking her life on the battlefield.


    Ba��s frustration only deepened. ��I can��t let him look down on me, the way he looked down on Rhaena,�� she replied sharply. She had a healthy dragon, yet Daemon had always been distant. Her younger sister Rhaena, with her small, stunted dragon, received even less attention from their father. The cold distance between them stung deeply.


    ��You do need to prove yourself,�� Rhaenyra admitted, softening her tone. ��But you don��t need to go to war to do that.�� She paused, then offered a new n. ��Go to Lys and Tyrosh. Defend the family��s territory, just like your grandmother did when she patrolled the Gullet.��


    Ba hesitated, clearly caught off guard by the suggestion. She bit her lower lip, torn between her desire to fight and her foster mother��s counsel.


    Seeing her daughter''s internal struggle, Rhaenyra knew she had gotten through to her. She lovingly wrapped an arm around Ba''s shoulders, pulling her close. There were still other pressing matters to attend to, and Rhaenyra could not afford to spend more energy on this.


    It seemed Maekar had returned from ver��s Bay with an intriguing guest��someone who imed to be of the true bloodline of the former Dragonlords.


    The im was ridiculous, of course, but Rhaenyra had learned never to dismiss such things too lightly. Before meeting them herself, she had arranged for Aemon and the Dragonkeeper to take them to the Dragonpit. Let them see what a ��true dragon�� really was.


    ...


    In the morning, the sun shone brightly.


    A magnificent fleet, flying banners emzoned with three red dragons, cut through the waters of ckwater Bay, en route to Dragonstone.


    "Roar!"


    A silver-grey dragon streaked across the sky, heading straight for The Gullet with fierce determination, its wings cutting through the morning mist. On the deck of one of the ships, Tnd stood in silent prayer, hoping this mission would save his brother.


    <em>Otherwise... I��ll take over Casterly Rock,</em> he thought grimly. With this resolve, the fleet swiftly sailed out of ckwater Bay.


    ...


    Meanwhile, on Dragonstone...


    "Roar!"


    A young ck dragon with scarlet dorsal fins and crimson wing membranes hovered near the towering peak of Dragonmont, its sharp, vertical pupils scanning the terrain below.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    A torrent of Dragonfire as dark as night erupted from its maw, striking the steep mountainside and sending billows of ck smoke into the sky.


    At the base of Dragonmont, hidden within a cold, shadowy cave...


    ��Hoo... hoo... hoo...��


    Baelon gasped for breath, wiping cold sweat from his brow. His ck robe was tattered, singed with holes, and his body was covered in dirt and soot. He looked like a beggar from Flea Bottom.


    ��By the Old Gods... you were right, a dragon really did attack,�� ck Aly muttered, slumped against the cave wall. Her chest rose and fell shakily, the near-death encounter still fresh in her mind.


    Baelon grinned foolishly, despite the danger. ��Told you.��


    <em>Boom!</em>


    Before they could continue, the ck dragon vanished into the sky, and the air around them grew unnervingly still. Baelon��s instincts red��something was wrong. He crept cautiously toward the cave��s entrance.


    "Roar..."


    A deep, resonant rumble echoed through the sky, like distant thunder��ancient and mournful, filled with the weight of centuries.


    Baelon held his breath, gazing upward. The white clouds driftedzily across the blue sky, the peak of Dragonmont loomedrge and unmoving, and smoke curled from its crater.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    A massive, dark green dragon, its body covered in thick folds of leathery skin, emerged from the clouds. It soared through the sky with a powerful grace, its breath sending clouds swirling in its wake.


    "Vhagar," Baelon whispered, his voice filled with awe.

 Chapter 625: The Prophecy of the Bearded Priests of Norvos

    Chapter 625: The Prophecy of the Bearded Priests of Norvos


    After half a month.


    The hills of Norvos, a high mountain fortress.


    The sky was perpetually dark, cloaked in thick, imprable clouds. The cold, damp air clung to everything, and the jagged mountains below were surrounded by towering peaks and dense forests of pine and cypress. Of all the Free Cities, Norvos was known for its harshest environment.


    "Keep your spirits up! Don��t let the dragon catch you unaware!"


    From the battlements, red-robed priests with long, scraggly beards shouted at the soldiers standing watch. The men, armed with heavy battleaxes, bore green axe tattoos branded onto their faces��a sacred tradition of Norvos, symbolizing their eternal bond with their weapons. They were bound to their axes for life, a marriage of iron and duty. The priests�� scolding was sharp, and the soldiers obeyed in fearful silence, too afraid to show any sign of defiance.


    ��Never underestimate the Dragonlords of Valyria! They are cunning beyond belief!��


    The priests spoke with thick Valyrian ents, their sallow faces filled with grim seriousness. Just ten days ago, the Sellswords of Qohor had mobilized and taken positions throughout the hills surrounding Norvos. Three days ago, an army had gathered at the foot of the high mountain fortress. There was a palpable tension, the unmistakable sense that something terrible was about to unfold.


    And then it happened...


    "Roar..."A massive ck dragon appeared over the mountains, its enormous wings blocking out what little light pierced the clouds, casting the fortress in shadow. The creature��s presence was overwhelming, like a dark storm descending upon the world.


    Rhaegar, riding high on its back, smiled wickedly. ��Dracarys!��


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The Cannibal, the ancient and terrifying ck dragon, unleashed a torrent of greenish Dragonfire, a sickly me that resembled ash, pouring it across the fortress like a lethal mist. The sky above turned a sickly green as the fire spread with eerie ease.


    ��No! No!��


    The garrison soldiers�� eyes widened in horror, and chaos erupted on the battlements. The Dragonfire, dark green and relentless, clung to everything like a curse. The stone walls melted under its heat, and the mes seemed alive, spreading faster than anything they had ever seen.


    Zi zi...


    The fire consumed all in its path, burning with unnatural ferocity. Soldiers screamed, their bodies alight as if they had been touched by the ck Death itself. Their wails echoed across the fortress as they iled in agony, rolling on the ground only to be reduced to skeletons by the relentless mes.


    ��Protect me! Someone, protect me!��


    The bearded priests, their faces drained of color, grabbed soldiers in a panic, using them as human shields. But it was in vain. The Dragonfire descended like a fishing, trapping everyone within its burning embrace.


    A single wisp of the green me caught on a priest��s hairband, and within seconds, it erupted into a ze.


    "Ahhhh!"


    Screams of agony filled the air, the heat of the fire dispelling the biting cold of the Lonely Hills. Even the snow that had once nketed the ground began to melt under the intensity of the mes.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal, its menacing green eyes glowing, turned back slowly toward the snow-covered pine forests. With its wings trailing fire, it soared away from the destruction it had wrought.


    ��Well done, old friend,�� Rhaegar murmured with satisfaction, tightening his grip on the reins as the dragon swooped down. The chill wind whipped against his face, but his smile remained as cold as the air around him.


    How long could Norvos withstand this, when every three or five days Dragonfire would rain down again, each time leaving less and less behind?


    ...


    At noon, sunlight filtered through the dense forest.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibaly sprawled in a clearing filled with thorn bushes, its growl low and lethargic, almost half-dead in sound. The ground within a kilometer of the dragon was scorched ck, the air thick with the acrid stench of ash.


    "Winter really isn��t kind to dragons," Rhaegar muttered with a grin as he strode toward the tent. The Cannibal wasn��t injured��just sluggish from the cold, perhaps throwing a tantrum. It had beenzytely, showing little interest in much of anything.


    As Rhaegar entered the tent, several figures were gathered around a map, discussing their next move. Daemon nced up briefly before continuing. ��The rivers of Lorath and Norvos are connected, and Sellswords from Pentos are already on their way. We need to quicken the pace of this war.��


    ��How fast can we go?�� Otto replied, his brow furrowed in frustration. ��It��s only been ten days! Half of our soldiers are still wearing their underclothes, barely ready for battle.��


    ��Who cares if they die? As long as they can hold a weapon, that��s enough,�� Daemon said coldly, his tone sharp and calcted. He wasn��t one for sentiment when it came to battle. Dying would only give their enemies more time to gather reinforcements, making things far worse.


    Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed as he considered Daemon��s point. ��Norvos�� defenses are weak. A full-scale assault now has a high chance of sess.��


    ��Your Grace,�� Otto interjected seriously, ��the army isn��t following orders properly. There��s a real risk of mutiny if we push them too hard.��


    ��So what?�� Daemon snapped, ring at him. ��You��re a Southerner. If you can��t handle the cold, you��re free to retreat to Qohor.�� His tone was biting, with no room for sympathy. As long as they moved quickly, the army wouldn��t have time to fall apart.


    ��Daemon!�� Otto''s face flushed with anger, his hand twitching as if he were ready to m the table in protest. He had been Daemon��s rival for over twenty years, and the bitterness between them was well-known.


    Daemon��s gaze hardened, daring him to push further.


    ��Enough!�� Rhaegar��s voice rang out, silencing them both. ��We attack tonight. Order the army to start cooking and ughter the goats for soup. It will warm the soldiers before battle.��


    Otto, still seething, nodded stiffly. ��Yes, Your Grace,�� he replied in a low, defeated tone. There were limited supplies; the faster they finished the war, the better.


    Daemon��s expression lightened, satisfied with the decision. ��We��ve burned all the fortresses surrounding the high mountain stronghold. We can strike Norvos directly along the main road.��


    ��No prisoners,�� Rhaegar added, his eyes cold as he spoke of theing bloodshed. War demanded brutality, and there would be no mercy for the defenders of Norvos.


    ...


    Midnight, Norvos.


    <em>Dong! Dong! Dong!</em>


    The deep tolling of three ancient bells echoed across the city, their solemn tones drowning out the wails and cries beneath the mes. The once-majestic Free City, nestled beneath the mountains and along the rivers, was now engulfed in fire and the sh of steel.


    "Roar..."


    A massive ck dragon, its wings spanning the night sky, soared above the burning city. As the Sellswords stormed through the shattered gates, cutting down any who dared resist, countless citizens of Norvos fell to their knees, weeping and praying for deliverance.


    But the gods of the bearded priests remained silent. The gods of the Andals and Valyria had long since vanished from the world. In this moment, the only true god was the <em>Deathwing,</em> the dragon feared on both sides of the Narrow Sea.


    On a towering hill, the three ancient bells swayed ominously, their ringing slowing. An old priest, his beard white with age, fell to his knees, tears streaming from his weathered eyes. With a choked voice, he muttered, ��Great Other... it is not yet our time.�� He clung to the teachings of his god��when danger looms, it is not time to meet death.


    ��There''s another one! Catch him!��


    Bloodied and ruthless, the Sellswords spotted him. They seized the frail priest, roughly pinning him to the ground and binding him in thick ropes.


    As the priest was dragged away, the three ancient bells, once proud symbols of Norvos, ceased their swaying. Their mournful toll was silenced, like the city itself, consumed by fire and death.


    ...


    The next morning.


    Hills of Norvos, Pce.


    Heads were mounted on spears, neatly lined up in a grisly disy.


    ��Soothe the civilians, and don��t touch the three ancient bells,�� Rhaegarmanded, pacing briskly as he gave orders to his men, ensuring the aftermath of the siege was managed efficiently.


    ��Your Grace, I have an urgent matter,�� Otto intercepted him, dark circles under his eyes from a sleepless night. No one had rested easily.


    ��What is it?�� Rhaegar asked, continuing to walk, his mind still upied with directing Sellswords to extinguish the pce fires. The siege had gone smoothly, but now they faced the tedious task of repairing the damage, including recing every shattered roof tile.


    <em>Damn it,</em> Rhaegar thought bitterly, <em>we should have brought Aegon and Aemond to help with clearing the rubble.</em>


    Otto kept pace, his expression grave. ��Daemon captured the bearded priests'' temple. Inside, he found a strange mural. You should take a look.��


    Rhaegar paused, his curiosity piqued. Of the nine Free Cities, many held ancient secrets, particrly those like Qohor and Norvos, which had existed for thousands of years. These old fortresses often concealed mysteries beneath their stone walls.


    Take the red-roofed temple in Qohor, for instance. The Faceless Men had nearly assassinated Aemond there. The incense used in the temple had strange hallucinogenic properties, though Rhaegar had yet to fully unravel its secrets.


    ��Interesting,�� Rhaegar murmured, setting aside his duties for the moment. ��Let��s go see this mural.��


    ...


    They wound their way through the temple, a foreboding structure of ck granite. Inside, Daemon stood before a stone wall embedded deep within the ground, his fingers tracing the faded, indistinct murals.


    Rhaegar nced at the wall, his brow furrowing. The mural was an ancientposition, depicting a dragon, a wight, winter, and the Wall, all etched in deep, heavy lines. It felt primordial, carved long before their time. The scene showed an army of the dead bringing winter, standing beneath the towering Wall. Snow whirled and howled, concealing the dark forest behind them. A dragon, spewing mes, was pierced through the neck by a spear and fell to the ground, where the dead consumed it.


    Further along, the mural depicted two dragons locked in battle in the sky, each breathing fire. One spewed ck fire, while the other unleashed an eerie, ice-blue me. The mes themselves were outlined with a distinct pigment, suggesting a particr reverence for fire.


    At the end of the mural, a grotesque face stared out��a twisted, unnatural visage. It resembled a human, yet more closely resembled a corpse, its turquoise eyes filled with ambition and disdain for the world.


    "Is that the Others?" Daemon asked suddenly, his expression grim as he turned to Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar��s gaze lingered on the hideous face. "Yes," he replied in a low voice. "The darkness of the North." But what did it signify? The mural hinted that thr Others could y dragons and perhaps even ride them. How could that be possible?


    Daemon seemed lost in thought, his voice barely a whisper. "Could my brother have been right?" Since bing king, Viserys had asionally spoken to him in private, warning of White Shadows, the darkness to the North, and the conqueror��s prophecy.


    Daemon had always dismissed it as nonsense, an excuse for Viserys�� perceived weakness. But now, standing before this ancient mural, he found his worldview shaken. This was far more unsettling than anything he had seen, even in the Smoking Sea.


    ��And here,�� Otto interrupted quietly, pointing to another section of the mural near the cave��s entrance. This part depicted a shepherd encountering a dragon for the first time, followed by scenes of the rise of the Valyrian Freehold, the fall of the Old Empire of Ghis, and the envement of thousands to mine the depths of the earth.


    Another scene showed a fleet of ships sailing toward Westeros, and beyond that, the continuous eruption of the Fourteen mes, destroying dragons mid-flight.


    ��It��s all a prophecy,�� Rhaegar said, his expression darkening as he examined the mural closely. But then, his fingers grazed the surface, and his eyes narrowed. ��No... the scratches are from different times.��


    Rhaegar paused, touching three distinct sections of the mural. Suddenly, he realized each part came from a different era. "The shepherd and the dragon��this part is the oldest, at least a thousand years old. The depiction of the Others is newer, but still ancient, likely three or five hundred years old. The scene of Aenar��s exile? That was carved just a century ago."


    Daemon looked at him, his mind elsewhere. "So, what��s the difference?"


    ��The difference is enormous,�� Rhaegar said sharply. ��It tells us whether these are prophecies or records. At least Aenar��s exile is a record, carved long after the fact.��


    Otto, thoughtful, added, ��Perhaps we should ask someone who knows.�� He called for the Sellswords, instructing them to bring someone in.


    Momentster, an old, bearded priest was dragged into the temple. His spirit seemed broken, and a rag was stuffed into his mouth. The Sellswords forced him to his knees before Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar pulled the rag from his mouth, getting straight to the point. "What is the meaning of this mural?"


    The priest gasped for air, his clouded eyes flickering with a madness born of fear and fanaticism. "Lose one dragon..." he muttered hoarsely, his voice trembling. "Gain another."

 Chapter 626: Baelon’s Dragon

    Chapter 626: Baelon��s Dragon


    A few days after the fall of Norvos.


    Golden Fields, Dagger Lake.


    "Roar..."


    The ck dragon dove low over Dagger Lake, its massive body skimming the surface. With a swift dip, it gulped down a mouthful of silver fish that leaped from the water, then rose back into the air.


    "Haha, full of energy today," Rhaegarughed, shielding himself as cold water sshed into waves below. The campsite beside theke was modest, with only two or three tents clustered together.


    ��Dragon loves the heat and despises the cold,�� Daemon remarked, striking flint to light a campfire. ��The warm climate of the Golden Fields suits it just fine.��


    A few days had passed since the end of the war, but it felt as though uncle and nephew had made a hasty retreat. The dragons had been sluggish in the cold of Norvos, appearing ready to hibernate at any moment.


    Roar...


    Caraxes flew overhead, its serpentine body twisting as it exhaled a stream of crimson Dragonfire. Momentster, severalrge, one-meter-long fish rained down from the sky, sttering onto the ground with a sickening thud.Rhaegar''s face soured. ��This is inedible.��


    Daemon snorted, rinsing one of the fish in the flowing river, and replied half-jokingly, ��Not as good as those frozen Norvos pies?�� He nced around thendscape, then added thoughtfully, ��Dagger Lake is bigger than the Gods Eye. Why not consider building a castle here?��


    Rhaegar grinned broadly. ��That��s exactly what I��m thinking.��


    Daemon��s expression grew more serious. ��Are you sure?��


    Norvos had already been captured and was being fortified under Otto Hightower and Kingsguard Cole. Before leaving, Rhaegar had used Dragonstone magic to reinforce the high mountain fortress and the nearby defenses, making them nearly impregnable, rivaling the Bloody Gate at The Eyrie. But the Golden Fields had yet to be fully secured, and Dagger Lake, running north to south, was a vital transportation route.


    ��I��ve already sent word to Vntis,�� Rhaegar replied confidently, ��to transport supplies up the Rhoyne and begin construction of a Dragonstone fortress on the shores of Dagger Lake.��


    Daemon, more cautious, frowned. ��Why not choose one of the ruins of the Rhoynar Free Cities?�� He thought of the abandoned cities nestled between the Andalos Mountains and the Forest of Qohor��ces like Ghoyan Drohe, Ny Sar, and Ar Noy.


    Once key strategic locations, these cities were destroyed by Dragonfire during the Valyrian conquest of the Rhoynar. Despite the devastation, theirnds had been fertile enough to attract the ancient Valyrians.


    Rhaegar pondered for a moment. ��Dagger Lake��s position between the Disputed Lands and cities like Vntis makes it ideal as a trading hub. We can establish a foothold here for the House. Once we��ve stabilized trade, we can look at rebuilding and resettling the old Rhoynar ruins.��


    Daemon��s brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded. ��That��s a solid n.��


    ��We��ll only turn to the ruins if there��s no other choice,�� Rhaegar added, shaking his head. His attachment to Westeros still lingered. The decision weighed on him��should they focus on ruling an entire continent or invest in a rich but slowly developingnd with vast, untapped potential? The darkness stirring in the North still loomed, and Rhaegar wasn��t ready to abandon the fight just yet. But if the danger of annihtion became too great, his eldest son and others could relocate to Essos.


    With the ports of the Disputed Lands and Vntis, and control of the Golden Fields surrounded by Norvos and Qohor, they could recreate a Freehold Empire��a bnce of imperial dragons, native nobles, and maritime lords.


    ��By the way,�� Daemon interjected, ��the mercenaries from Pentos have mobilized.��


    ��Then let theme,�� Rhaegar said calmly. ��A t battlefield is a gift for a dragon.�� His only concern was the Iron Bank, brimming with gold.


    ...


    As the sun set and dusk deepened, the sky over Dagger Lake slowly grew dark. The fading sunlight cast a soft glow across the water, blending hues of red and green into a mesmerizing scene.


    Rhaegar returned to his tent, picking up a quill and parchment to write a letter. He paused for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. Nearly a month had passed since his eldest son had left to tame a dragon, and there had been no word from him. <em>He��s probably run into trouble,</em> Rhaegar mused.


    ��I should give him some guidance,�� he muttered to himself, then began writing a letter about the old dragon in Lemonwood.


    Uragax, a dragon steeped in ancient history, was known only to a few. If his son was struggling to tame a dragon, Rhaegar thought it might be wise to direct him toward Uragax. It was a long shot, but worth trying.


    After rying instructions, Rhaegar closed the letter by informing his son of their victory at the Battle of Norvos. He also reminded him to stay vignt, warning his father and Rhaenyra to be on guard for any potential counterattacks from across the Narrow Sea.


    Once finished, he sealed the letter and tied it to the leg of a raven, watching as the bird flew off into the dimming sky.


    ...


    Time flew by. Half a monthter.


    King''s Landing, Dragonpit.


    "Roar!"


    An enraged roar echoed through the vast hall as iron shackles sparked with zing Dragonfire. At the massive bronze gates, Aemon leaned casually, sucking on an ice lolly, his carefree posture a stark contrast to the chaos inside.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The moss-green dragon known as Trickster mbered up the wall, its amber eyes gleaming with mischief. Its long, scorpion-like tail swayedzily behind it.


    "Insolent old woman," Aemon muttered, spitting out the stick of his popsicle and grinning as he watched a silver-haired woman hurriedly retreat.


    His mother had tasked him with showing Irina from ver��s Bay around the Dragonpit, an assignment Aemon found tedious. During the tour, they encountered Trickster, Moondancer, and Syrax. Yet, despite seeing these creatures, Irina wasn��t satisfied��she insisted on seeing a "real" adult dragon.


    Vermithor and Silverwing, the two ancient dragons of the Dragonpit, were brought out under the guidance of the Dragonkeepers. Vermithor barely acknowledged Irina��s presence, treating her like a mere insect. Silverwing, however, wasn��t so indifferent. After a brief re of her nostrils, she unleashed a st of Dragonfire at the woman, who barely escaped the mes. There was something about Irina��s scent that seemed to repulse the dragon.


    ��It almost roasted you,�� Aemonughed, pping his hands before ordering, "Take Silverwing back to Dragonstone and make sure someone keeps an eye on that old woman at all times."


    Silverwing couldn��t escape the Dragonpit, so there was little risk of Irina taming it. Still, Aemon��s real concern was the dragon eggs��he couldn��t allow them to be stolen. And as long as he was here, no one would seed.


    <em>Hiss...</em>


    Trickster slunk back into the shadows, casting a dark silhouette across the hall. From those shadows, Silverwing��s fierce, crowned head emerged, its vertical pupils gleaming as it snorted heavily, like a predator eyeing its prey.


    "Get her down there, now!" Aemon urged the Dragonkeepers, who rushed to obey.


    ��Obey yourmands, Silverwing!�� the Dragonkeepers shouted, coaxing the dragon back into herir with practiced precision.


    With a heavy <em>rumble</em>, the bronze gates of the Dragonpit mmed shut. Outside, eight hundred armored soldiers patrolled the perimeter, ensuring the area was securely sealed.


    Aemon stepped out from the gates and pulled a letter from inside his tunic. The seal bore the unmistakable mark of Rhaegar Targaryen I��his father.


    "A letter from Father, let��s see what this is about." Aemon broke the seal and unfolded the letter. He had recently returned to King��s Landing from Tyrosh, assuming his duties as Grand Maester and Master of Whisperers. The letter hade from the Raven��s Lair.


    As he read, Aemon��s eyes widened in shock. ��Three hundred years old... such an ancient dragon.�� His mind raced with the implications.


    ��No, no, I have to get this to my brother right away.�� He hurried to a nearby carriage��an elegant white-painted pce on wheels��and called to Arryk, one of the Kingsguard. ��Ser, take me to the Red Keep immediately.��


    ��Yes, Prince,�� Arryk replied, guiding the carriage forward in silence.


    Halfway to the Red Keep, a thought struck Aemon, lighting up his face with excitement. ��Hey, my brother��s trying to tame a dragon. I should help him out!��


    He remembered his father��s chambers, filled with rare treasures. <em>I��ll find something there for my brother��a gift to aid him.</em> The thought of his brother��s tearful gratitude filled Aemon with renewed energy.


    ��Faster, Ser!�� he called out, a grin spreading across his face as he imagined the perfect gift for his brother.


    ...


    The next day at dawn,


    Dragonstone, east coast.


    "Roar!"


    A young dragon with dark scales and scarlet dorsal fins thrashed on the grassy cliffside, kicking up clouds of dust and scattered leaves.


    <em>Crack! Crack!</em>


    A long ck whip, its barbed tips gleaming,shed out repeatedly, coiling around the dragon��s neck like a snake.


    Baelon, breathless and drenched in sweat, climbed onto the dragon��s back, gripping the whip tightly. ��Attack me again, Iragaxys!�� he shouted. His face was streaked with dirt, and his clothes were little more than rags after the struggle.


    "Roar!"


    Iragaxys, eyes glowing a deep scarlet, let out a hoarse cry, ring at the rider with frustration.


    Baelon, sprawled across the dragon��s back, raised the whip again, striking it with force. ��That��s for attacking me! And this is for being impossible!�� Eachsh came with a grumbledint, releasing the tension of the past two weeks. He had narrowly avoided the dragon��s sharp tail on several asions, and more than once, he��de close to bing a fiery snack.


    "Roar! Roar!"


    Iragaxys let out a pained whinny, rolling in frustration as it tried to shake Baelon off, its massive body twisting on the ground.


    ��Dream on,�� Baelon muttered, clinging to the dragon��s back like a leech. He was too worn to punch the tough dragon scales, though he wished he could. Hidden inside his tattered pants, he clutched a crumpled piece of paper��a letter from his younger brother, Aemon.


    Aemon had written about a 300-year-old dragon in Lemonwood and had sent him a piece of their father��s dragon-taming whip, the very one Baelon now wielded. Gritting his teeth, Baelon wrapped the whip around Iragaxys��s neck, pulling it tight. ��Not so tough now, are you?�� he taunted, a grin breaking through his exhaustion.


    Iragaxys, furious, red its nostrils. Every time it saw Vhagar, it tormented Baelon, as if taking pleasure in his failed attempts to tame it. But Baelon had had enough.


    "Roar!"


    With an angry bellow, the young dragon leapt into the sky, its powerful wings stirring the wind and shrouding the waves below.


    "Ah! What are you doing?!"


    Baelon, caught off guard, tightened his grip on the whip. As the dragon flew higher, Baelon pulled harder. The tighter he pulled, the more agitated Iragaxys became.


    "Roar!"


    The dragon let out a long, angry howl, shooting up into the clouds before plunging toward the sea. Iragaxys iled its wings wildly, desperate to shake Baelon off its back and send him crashing into the waves below.


    Baelon��s heart pounded in his chest, but his stubborn streak only deepened. ��Fine! Let��s see who gives in first!�� he growled. Man and dragon were locked in a fierce struggle, each doing their best to wear the other down.


    Meanwhile, on the towering Dragonmont...


    "Hmm?"


    Vhagar, resting on the rugged mountainside, stirred at the distant sound of Iragaxys��s roar. Annoyed that his peaceful sleep had been disturbed, the massive dragon lifted his ancient head. With a low rumble, Vhagar stood, crushing the strange rocks beneath his weight. He stretched his wings, full of ragged holes from centuries of battle, andunched into the sky.


    The ancient dragon had no patience for the noisy antics of a youngling and intended to teach Iragaxys a lesson in silence and respect on Dragonstone.


    ...


    On the other side of the ind, the man and dragon were still locked in their stubborn struggle, oblivious to what wasing.


    "Roar!"


    A deep, thunderous roar echoed from afar, like a storm crashing through the sky. A mix of orange light and thick smoke from powerful Dragonfire billowed into view.


    Baelon turned, his face paling. ��Run, Iragaxys!�� he shouted.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    But it was toote. A wave of Dragonfire surged toward them, and Vhagar��s massive form loomed in the distance, eyes filled with cold indifference. The ancient dragon wasn��t aiming to kill��just to teach the young one a lesson in proper behavior.


    Without thinking, Baelon dropped to the ground, quickly unwrapping the dragon-taming whip from Iragaxys��s neck.


    In the next moment...


    "Roar!"


    Amid the thick smoke and scorching mes, the young ck dragon thrashed, lifting its head defiantly. It opened its maw and unleashed a stream of pitch-ck Dragonfire, striking from a distance. The dark mes, ck as night, sttered against Vhagar��s thick, wrinkled skin.


    "Roar..."


    Vhagar bellowed in fury as the Dragonfire singed his neck. His massive wings pped angrily as heunched into pursuit.


    Iragaxys darted through the air, agile and quick, dodging each of Vhagar��s attacks and asionally retaliating with bursts of his own Dragonfire. His mes were potent, carrying a destructive force reminiscent of Balerion��s legendary ck Dragonfire.


    "Roar!"


    Iragaxys barely dodged Vhagar��s snapping jaws, diving sharply and disappearing into the sea below the cliff.


    Baelon��s heart pounded as he watched Vhagar''s wrath grow. He knew the young dragon had crossed a line. Gritting his teeth, he shouted, ��Leave Dragonstone, Iragaxys!��


    Vhagar was relentless and wouldn��t forgive such defiance easily.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    Orange Dragonfire rained down, striking the waves below and boiling the water that surged against the rocky cliffs.


    "Roar!"


    Iragaxys panicked, instinctively ignoring Baelon''s orders and seeking any possible escape route.


    ��Listen to me, Iragaxys!�� Baelonmanded, his voice rising with authority. He snapped the dragon-taming whip, forcibly regaining control of the dragon.


    In the chaos, the crumpled piece of paper from his pants fluttered to the ground, catching Baelon��s eye. A sudden idea shed through his mind, and a n began to form.

 Chapter 627: Baelon’s Dragon II

    Chapter 627: Baelon��s Dragon II


    ��Follow me, Iragaxys!��


    Baelon��s shout echoed across the skies of Dragonstone, filled with an unyielding determination that left no room for defiance.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    Vhagar let out a low, guttural growl as it circled the skies, its immense body casting a shadow that stretched across thend. Its deep, ancient eyes, cloudy with time, held a mix of sadness, loneliness, and indifference. No one understood the weight it bore, the old dragon whose roars echoed day and night were its only outlet.


    But the young dragon''s challenge had awakened something in Vhagar��a long-dormant desire for battle, a spark from the days when the dragon was a force of conquest, a founder of kingdoms.


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, Iragaxys burst from the east coast, ck and red scales glistening in the fading light. It spewed dark Dragonfire aimed directly at Vhagar��s eyes before gliding swiftly along the surface of the sea.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    Vhagar, momentarily caught off guard, jerked its massive head away as the Dragonfire singed its thick, wrinkled skin, sending sparks and ck smoke billowing into the air. The old dragon��s slow reaction only fueled its anger. Now, the founding beast was teetering on the edge of a full-blown rampage."Roar!"


    Vhagar��s thunderous roar shook the sky as itsrge, battle-scarred wings, riddled with holes, red open, trying to envelop the younger dragon.


    Seeing the danger, Baelon acted quickly. ��Head for The Gullet, Iragaxys, now!�� he ordered, urgency creeping into his voice.


    The fury of an enraged Vhagar was unstoppable, and Baelon knew it. He needed to outmaneuver the ancient dragon and somehow manage to control both the unpredictable Iragaxys and the relentless Vhagar.


    ��It��s like pulling a chestnut from the fire,�� Baelon muttered, resolved. He was determined to seed, no matter the risk. He could live without a dragon, lose his im to the Iron Throne, even sacrifice his fragile life. But to survive��truly survive��he had to prove himself.


    An adult dragon, powerful enough to wage war and reim honor, was the only way to shed the shame of being dragonless.


    ��Faster, Iragaxys!�� Baelon urged, his grip tightening on the reins. The young dragon soared over ckwater Bay, streaking past the ships of Driftmark Ind, heading toward the natural stronghold of The Gullet.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    Behind them, Vhagar pursued, crashing through the clouds with its immense bulk, its sagging jowls quivering as it cut through the air. The old dragon��s eyes were grim, and deep within its throat, mes smoldered, ready to unleash their fury.


    As Vhagar passed over Driftmark, the sight of the ancient beast filled the fishermen below with awe. For a brief moment, they thought Lady Laena had returned.


    ...


    The two dragons, one leading and the other in relentless pursuit, flew through the stormy skies above Shipbreaker Bay.


    <em>Crack!</em>


    A sh of lightning split the heavy dark clouds as they churned overhead. Baelon clung tightly to Iragaxys, gripping the scarlet dorsal fin, bracing against the fierce wind and torrential rain.


    "Roar!"


    Iragaxys lowered its body, gliding just above the churning sea like a seabird skimming the surface.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    A searing torrent of orange Dragonfire erupted behind them, vaporizing the rain into a cloud of steam. Iragaxys nced back but didn��t falter, pressing forward, flying southward into the worsening storm. The rain beat down, thick and blinding, making it harder to see.


    Baelon wiped the rain from his eyes, encouraging his dragon, ��Keep going, we��re almost there. We need to find that ancient dragon.��


    He had no hope of defeating Vhagar with a young dragon. His n was clear��seek out the 300-year-old beast, even older than Vhagar, to tip the scales in his favor.


    "Roar!"


    Iragaxys��s scarlet eyes gleamed with reluctance, but he pushed forward, his wing beats quickening. The young dragon wanted nothing more than to avoid provoking Vhagar, and now he was being forced to flee while carrying this reckless rider.


    ��Thank you, Iragaxys,�� Baelon said sincerely, though he swung the dragon-taming whip with a nonchnce that made the dragon��s eyes narrow in frustration. Iragaxys grunted, then dove toward the Stepstones, a ce it��d never been before.


    It felt like an eternity had passed, but also just an instant, when they suddenly burst free from the oppressive storm. The sky cleared, bright and dazzling, as if someone had flipped a switch from night to day.


    Baelon squinted, shielding his eyes against the sudden light.


    "Roar..."


    Iragaxys exhaled with relief, unconsciously slowing its pace. It was a powerful dragon, built for speed and battle, but the long flight had drained it, far beyond what most young dragons could endure.


    ��Don��t slow down, Iragaxys,�� Baelon warned, his eyes scanning the skies nervously. He knew an ancient dragon could strike at any moment. Vhagar, after all, was no ordinary dragon��battle-hardened, vicious, and seasoned inbat. It had more experience than even the Cannibal his father rode, earning the ancient Valyrian name of <em>Godness of War</em>.


    "Roar..."


    Iragaxys panted heavily, lowering his body even further as they flew in eerie silence. There wasn��t a single bird in the sky. The man and dragon found themselves in what seemed like a paradise��floating through a tranquil sea of clouds, the soft breeze barely touching them.


    It was this unnerving calm that made Baelon feel on edge.


    <em>Rumble...</em>


    Without warning, the clouds surged like waves, swirling into a bloom of mist. Baelon��s heart leapt, and instinct took over. ��Get out of the way, Iragaxys!�� he shouted.


    In his line of sight, an ancient, murderous dragon lunged from the mist with eyes full of malice, jaws wide as if to bite Iragaxys in half.


    "Roar!"


    Iragaxys obeyed Baelon��smand, diving hard to the right just in time.


    "Roar!"


    Vhagar erupted from the sea of clouds, blood-red maw gaping as it roared. The monstrous dragon��s teeth grazed Iragaxys��s wing, and the two massive wings collided with a deafening <em>Bang!</em>


    Iragaxys barely avoided a direct hit but was knocked by the impact, its body spiraling out of control, tumbling like a broken kite.


    ��No! No!�� Baelon shouted, wrapping the dragon-taming whip around Iragaxys��s neck in a desperate attempt to slow their descent. ��Keep your head up, don��t fall!�� His shout,ced with High Valyrian, was a desperate binding spell, ast-ditch effort to regain control.


    "Roar~~"


    Iragaxys��s injured wing twisted painfully as they fell, its eyes opening mid-plummet in confusion. Seeing the sea rising fast beneath them, a chilling fear coursed through it.


    ...


    Meanwhile, on the Stepstones...


    <em>Thud, thud, thud...</em>


    The wild, thunderous beat of war drums echoed across Bloodstone Ind as warships emerged from every direction, darkening the horizon.


    "Give me the iron coins! What is dead may never die!"


    Aboard a golden squid-shaped ram ship, a wild young man with jet-ck hair bellowed, brandishing a curved knife. His lean chest was smeared with dirt, salt, and dried blood, the marks of countless raids. His narrow, ambitious eyes gleamed with the promise of murder and plunder.


    Dozens of warships flying the Kraken banner closed in, the ragged ironborn aboard them howling with madness, their voices unified in a single cry: "What is dead may never die!"


    "Attack!"


    Dalton Greyjoy��s voice cracked with bloodlust, filled with the primal urge for plunder and chaos.


    ...


    Sea of Dorne


    An old dragon soared slowly through the skies, its cold, vertical pupils scanning the vast sea below as if searching for something hidden beneath the waves.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    Its massive wings scattered the clouds, and a stream of Dragonfire scorched the surface of the water. The dragon was using brute force to flush out its target, sending a clear message of intimidation.


    Meanwhile, along the coast of Ghost Hill, a young ck-and-red dragon dragged itself ashore, shaking off the salty water that clung to its scales.


    ��Hurry, Iragaxys,�� Baelon urged between gasps, still coughing up seawater. They had narrowly avoided plummeting into the sea but had managed to stabilize mid-fall. The old dragon, wary of ambushes, had forced Iragaxys to dive into the water to hide, and they��d surfaced only after reaching Rainwood, flying toward Ghost Hill, bordering Dorne.


    "Roar!"


    True loyalty shines in hard times, and Iragaxys, despite its arrogance, spared a nce back at Baelon. Instead of dumping the ��little liar�� into the sea, the dragon beat its scarlet wings and continued its flight toward Sunspear.


    ��Thanks to you,�� Baelon chuckled weakly, feeling the hot winds of Dorne brush against his face as he rubbed his hands together.


    Iragaxys didn��t respond, still too proud to acknowledge the one who had forced it into this mess. Instead, it tilted its head and elerated. If it weren��t for its injured wing, it would have shown Baelon what real speed and power felt like.


    ��Thank you, Iragaxys,�� Baelon said quietly, his voice filled with genuine emotion. His head lowered, and his eyes grew misty. ��If I weren��t the eldest son, I��d choose you.�� Tears he had suppressed through battles and chases finally welled up, not from fear or anger, but from facing the young dragon he had once rejected.


    ��I��m sorry. I��m really sorry,�� Baelon muttered, releasing his grip on the dragon-taming whip. He no longer needed to force Iragaxys with brute strength. He needed an adult dragon��not for himself, but to meet the expectations of his father and the honor of House Targaryen.


    As the eldest son and future heir to the Iron Throne, he had to secure his advantage over his siblings. Reading history books, mastering mathematics, or excelling in swordsmanship wouldn��t be enough. Only by riding an adult dragon could he im the Iron Throne with authority.


    ��Fly faster, Iragaxys,�� Baelon whispered, choking back his emotions. He wanted to freeze this moment��this fleeting sense of freedom��where he could ride whichever dragon he pleased, without worrying about controlling an adult beast or proving himself.


    "Roar..."


    Iragaxys neighed softly, its scarlet pupils softening as it steadied its flight. The dragon, sensing its rider''s sorrow, gently poked him with its thick tail, as if trying tofort him.


    ��Stop it,�� Baelon muttered, swatting away the dragon''s tail half-heartedly. Iragaxys wasn��t the only dragon he had rejected. Grey Ghost, Silverwing��he had turned them all away. The guilt of deceiving these magnificent creatures weighed heavily on him, and he feared he was bing an "emotional fraudster" in the eyes of the dragon pack.


    "Roar."


    Iragaxys rolled its eyes and rose higher into the sky, its body moving almost unconsciously.


    Baelon kept his head down, afraid that Iragaxys might take offense and toss him from the sky. ��Never ride a dragon recklessly again,�� he muttered, frustrated by the powerful bond he could not fully control.


    Suddenly, a thunderous roar echoed from the horizon.


    "Roar..."


    A massive shadow loomed through theyers of clouds and mist��Vhagar. Its pupils were burning with rage, and deep in its throat, mes gathered.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    Dragonfire rained down from the sky. Iragaxys flinched in panic, narrowly avoiding the deadly mes as it dipped toward the desert, nearly losing its bnce.


    ��Steady, Iragaxys!�� Baelon shouted, wiping away the remnants of his tears and snot, regaining hisposure. The brief moment of vulnerability between him and the dragon was shattered, reced by the immediate danger of survival.


    ...


    By the banks of the Greenblood River, deep in the Lemonwood Forest...


    Distant mes lit up the night sky, and the echo of a fierce dragon''s roar reverberated for miles in every direction.


    "Roar...?"


    An old dragon, hidden among the thick bushes, opened its vertical pupils, blinking in confusion at the sound. It lifted its head, peering toward the source of the roar.


    Momentster, a massive dark green shadow swept across the sky.


    <em>tter...</em>


    The old dragon��s pupils suddenly narrowed, and the dense bushes rustled as its body shifted, revealing scales the color of moss, blending seamlessly with the vibrant emerald forest.

 Chapter 628: Baelon’s Dragon III

    Chapter 628: Baelon��s Dragon III


    Outside Sunspear, nestled along the coast,y the Water Gardens��an exquisite retreat built by thete Prince Qoren as a summer haven for his children. The gardens were filled with elegant buildings, carved beams, and painted rafters. Flowers and streams intertwined, creating a tranquil oasis where warmth lingered year-round, making it feel like eternal spring.


    However...


    "Roar!"


    A young ck-and-red dragon crashed awkwardly through the gardens, its chest marked by deep scratches, spilling hot scarlet blood onto the ground. Its wings pped desperately, its agile body twisting as it soared again, barely skimming the surface of the Water Gardens.


    <em>Zla...</em>


    Wherever the dragon''s blood touched, the vibrant flowers and flowing streams withered instantly, leaving behind dry ravines and yellowed leaves.


    ��Hurry! We��re almost there!�� Baelon shouted, gripping tightly as the wind rushed past him, his gaze darting nervously over his shoulder.


    High in the clouds, a massive shadow loomed, its form swaying as it revealed the dark green, wrinkled skin of its folds.


    "Roar!"Vhagar swooped low, unleashing a torrent of Dragonfire from its maw.


    ��Move!�� Baelon��s heart raced as he tugged on Iragaxys��s scarlet dorsal fin, urging the young dragon to veer sharply to the side.


    Iragaxys, quick and instinctive, twisted gracefully, gliding out of the tropical paradise that surrounded the Water Gardens.


    Soon, the two dragons��one small and nimble, the other immense and menacing��flew together, their wings spread wide against the sky.


    ...


    Sunspear.


    In the bustling city below, themon folk of Dorne gathered in small groups, their eyes drawn skyward as two dragons appeared overhead.


    <em>Rumble...</em>


    The dragons whipped up a fierce wind, kicking up clouds of sand that billowed in every direction.


    As the smaller dragon flew past, the muchrger Vhagar rose behind it, casting an ominous shadow. The Dornish citizens looked up in rm, shielding their faces from the swirling sand and dust.


    ��Dragons!��


    The shout echoed through the city, spreading panic as the citizens scattered in fear.


    <em>ng!</em>


    The bell in Sunspear''s clock tower rang out, urging the people to take shelter. At the same time, soldiers d in earth-brown armor poured from the barracks, quickly taking positions along the city walls.


    It was clear��the people of Dorne were terrified, and the unexpected arrival of dragons had thrown the city into chaos.


    ...


    "Roar!"


    Vhagar''s pupils dted cruelly as it pursued the much smaller dragon, Iragaxys, who was barely one-fifth its size. At nearly 140 meters long, Vhagar had grown into a monstrous force��only the abnormallyrge Cannibal could rival it.


    "Roar!"


    Iragaxys, desperate, twisted and turned through the air, trying to escape the gaping maw of the ancient beast behind it. Barely thirty meters long, Iragaxys was still young. Among the dragons of its generation��older ones like Moondancer, Trickster, and Tyraxes��none could match its strength. Even against the dragons of thest four generations, it was more formidable than Sunfyre or Tessarion. But twenty years of life was no match for Vhagar��s one hundred and eighty.


    The two dragons tore across the desert, their flight bringing them swiftly to the Greenblood River, where the waters rushed beneath them.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    Vhagar became even more aggressive upon reaching the water. The massive dragon lunged at Iragaxys, seizing the opportunity and opening its enormous jaws.


    "Roar!"


    Iragaxys, unable to dodge, unleashed a torrent of ck Dragonfire in defense. The explosion of ck smoke and fire roared across the sky. But Vhagar, undeterred, powered through the st, breaking through the smoke as it closed in on Iragaxys��s exposed throat.


    Iragaxys��s pupils shrank with fear��there was no escape. Time had run out.


    "Iragaxys!!"


    Baelon, horrified,shed out with his dragon-taming whip in a desperate attempt to intervene. But just as Vhagar moved to strike, a powerful gust of wind blew through.


    <em>Hiss!</em>


    A sh of green Dragonfire descended like a thunderbolt, mming into Vhagar''s head. The great dragon��s jaws froze for an instant, allowing Iragaxys to slip free, narrowly avoiding death.


    ��Go, Iragaxys!�� Baelon shouted, but his mind spun with confusion, unable to determine if the intervention was friend or foe.


    Terrified, Iragaxys fled, crashing through the forest on the other side of the river, its huge body ttening the trees in its path.


    "Roar..."


    Vhagar, enraged by the attack, lifted its head high, bellowing furiously into the sky. Baelon nced upward, his eyes widening as he saw a moss-green dragon shadow looming above.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    A massive old dragon appeared from the Greenblood River, its body scarred and crowned with great horns that bent backward. The dragon��s fierce vertical pupils gleamed with battle-hardened fury as it erupted from the river, duckweed and leaves clinging to its scales. Without hesitation, the ancient beast lunged, sinking its fangs into Vhagar��s thick neck.


    Vhagar, caught off guard, lost its advantage. Its thick, wrinkled skin was pierced by the intruder��s sharp teeth, and foul-smelling dragon blood began to pour from the wound.


    "Roar..."


    In a desperate move, Vhagar, despite its bulk, performed an unexpected maneuver. It rolled over mid-air, using its hind legs to kick its attacker in the chest with a force like muffled thunder.


    <em>Boom! Boom!</em>


    The old dragon''s chest, already scarred, bore two new deep gashes that cut down to the bone. It released its grip on Vhagar��s neck and retaliated with a burst of green Dragonfire.


    "Roar!"


    The Dragonfire struck Vhagar��s head, and the ancient dragon roared in pain, recoiling as it fled into the clouds. A closer look revealed that the jaw hanging from Vhagar��s neck had been torn open, exposing bone beneath the flesh. Though injured, it pped its wings and ascended, preparing for the inevitable sh that would follow.


    "Roar..."


    The old dragon wasn��t unscathed either. The fresh wounds on its chest dripped hot blood, staining its scales. The injuries from its battle with Vhagar had reopened, and its majestic figure was marked by pain.


    When adult dragons shed, the brutality was raw and swift. There was no yful toying, no hesitation. Their battles were quick, vicious, and decisive. Once they met in the air, it was only a matter of moments before one would prevail.


    ...


    Lemonwood


    "Huff, huff..."


    Iragaxysy on the ground, panting heavily, its chest heaving with exhaustion from the long flight across the strait. The young dragon''s once-vigorous body now trembled with fatigue.


    Baelon slid off its back, gently stroking the dragon��s drooping wing. ��Don��t worry,�� he murmured, reassuring the tired beast. ��We��re safe for now.��


    But Baelon��s eyes darted upward, catching the green dragon shadow circling above. The dragon��s moss-colored scales were mottled with white and pale yellow, like an ancient beast that had emerged from the forest andke. Its blood-stained chest gleamed with majesty, rivaling even Vermithor��s. In terms of sheer size, it slightly surpassed Vermithor.


    ��So, that��s the 300-year-old dragon?�� Baelon whispered in awe, his eyes locked onto the creature. ��The Uragax you mentioned in your letter, Father.��


    Unlike Vhagar, whose age had turned its form decrepit, Uragax looked robust, with broad, powerful wings covered in creamy yellow membranes. The dragon exuded an aura of strength, but beneath ity the wisdom and weariness of centuries.


    Baelon swallowed hard, his throat tight with tension as he stared into Uragax��s amber pupils. There was no ferocity in them��only the calm of a dragon who had seen it all.


    ��Roar!��


    Uragax let out a sharp roar, ascending into the sky to confront the intruder that had entered its territory. It would not let Vhagar go unchecked.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    A torrent of orange Dragonfire, thick with smoke, rained from the sky. Vhagar, swift and brutal, rushed forward with jaws wide open, ready to strike. Uragax countered with its own burst of fire, using the ensuing smoke as cover to disappear from the battlefield.


    When it reappeared, Uragax nked Vhagar, but the battle-hardened Vhagar anticipated the attack. The old dragon dodged and extended its talons,tching onto Uragax��s ws.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The two colossal dragons collided in the sky, entangling like eagles mid-flight, their wings pping furiously as they tore at each other. The roars echoed across the sky, and for a time, neither beast had the upper hand.


    ��Roar!��


    Suddenly, Iragaxys, who had been fleeing moments before, turned back, its muzzle burning with mes.


    ��Dracarys!�� Baelon shouted, brandishing the dragon whip in his hand.


    Iragaxys rose sharply, spewing jet-ck Dragonfire at Vhagar in a furious retaliation.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The attack struck Vhagar squarely on the head. Enraged, the ancient dragon redoubled its assault, both titans shing with a fury that sent chunks of scale and flesh falling like rain. They spiraled together, tangled in the sky, until both dragons tumbled downward like a fallingpass.


    Baelon dared not approach. Instead, he urged Iragaxys upward, disappearing into the safety of the clouds.


    <em>Rumble!</em>


    The two dragons crashed down simultaneously, but it was Vhagar��s massive body that plummeted into the wide Greenblood River, sending water surging on both banks. The river rose like a beast, roaring skyward with a wave high enough to drown castles.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    The Greenblood��s waters, stained with dragon��s blood, boiled, releasing plumes of steam.


    Vhagar roared, its battered head breaking the surface as it hauled its thick hind legs onto the riverbank. As its massive body shook free of the water, fish, shrimp, and water nts scattered, crushed into mud beneath its enormous weight.


    Vhagar��s eyes glinted with hatred as it nced at Uragax, whose rear leg dangled limply from the sky. With determination burning in its pupils, Vhagar unfurled its wings and ascended once more, preparing to unleash another round of destruction.


    The battle of blood and fire had begun again.


    ...


    Halfway up in the air, Baelon watched as the two dragons shed fiercely once again, a deep sense of despair rising in his chest.


    "I can��t stop them. Not at all," he thought.


    Uragax had indeed intervened, stalling Vhagar��s rampage, but the battle had only escted into a chaotic frenzy. If he didn��t act soon, the destruction would be catastrophic.


    ��Follow me, Iragaxys!�� Baelon called out, hastily mounting his dragon and flying after the warring beasts as they soared higher above Sunspear.


    At that moment, the streets of Sunspear were deserted, the citizens having retreated to the safety of their homes. Through the cracks in barred windows, they peered out, witnessing the savage battle unfolding in the sky.


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    One dragontched onto the other��s wings, while the second tore at its opponent��s chest.


    ��Dracarys, Iragaxys!�� Baelon��s clear voice echoed across the sky. From the distance, his smaller ck dragon responded, diving in with a low-altitude glide before spiraling upward over Sunspear.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    A brilliant explosion of Dragonfire burst into the sky as Iragaxys joined the fray, turning the already heated battle into a vicious three-way melee. Orange, green, and pitch-ck Dragonfire collided in the sky, sttering like wild strokes of paint across the horizon.


    Sparks and dragon blood rained down on the city below, igniting rooftops and sending mes licking through the streets. The garrison attempted to fight the fires andunched arrows skyward, but their efforts were futile��the dragons were too far above.


    The battle raged on from noon until dusk, the roars of the dragons shaking the very foundations of Sunspear.


    "Roar..."


    Finally, after hours of brutalbat, Vhagar began to tire. Physically exhausted, the giant dragon let out a deep roar and fell from the sky. As Vhagar struggled to maintain bnce, one wing outstretched, it crashed into a cluster of residential buildings, destroying them but avoiding further injury.


    "Roar..."


    Uragax hovered above, victorious. A triumphant roar rumbled deep in its chest. It had been years since it fought such a vicious battle��perhaps not since its legendary encounter with the Dragoneater. But just as Uragax prepared to finish Vhagar off...


    ��Stop, Uragax!��


    Baelon��s voice rang out from high above, riding Iragaxys as he called to the ancient dragon. Uragax��s fierce amber pupils narrowed in confusion, and its nostrils red as it caught the scent of the silver-haired rider who had drawn it to thisnd.


    "Roar..."


    For a moment, Uragax nced at Vhagar, who struggled to rise for another fight, but then hesitated. Weakened and wounded, Uragax chose to retreat. Its chest was nearly torn open, one hind leg broken, and its body covered in bite wounds.


    ��Don��t go, Uragax!�� Baelon shouted, his heart pounding in his chest, his pale face flushed with determination. Vhagar had fallen, and the chaos was over. But there was still one dragon left to tame.


    As Uragax��s cold, unblinking eyes met his, Baelon��s resolve hardened. Slowly, he climbed off Iragaxys��s back, his voice trembling with emotion. ��Uragax... you are a lonely wanderer. Today, let me tame you!��


    Without hesitation, Baelon swung the dragon-taming whip and leapt from Iragaxys��s back, his heart racing as he made his bold move to im the ancient dragon.


    ��Roar...?��


    Uragax was momentarily stunned, its amber eyes fixed on the silver-haired boy plunging from the sky.


    ��Face me!�� Baelon shouted, eyes shut tight, as he flung the dragon-taming whip. It wrapped around the old dragon��s neck with a snap. The man and the dragon drew closer, locked on a collision course.


    As Baelon plummeted, the windshed against his face, sharp and unrelenting. His arms spread wide, prepared to embrace either the dragon or death. Suddenly, his pounding heart stilled, and his blood ignited, surging like fire through his veins.


    Then, as if touched by some divine force, Baelon opened his eyes. A sh of green fire flickered in the depths of his violet gaze.


    "Roar..."


    Uragax did not evade. Instead, it allowed the silver-haired boy tond on its back.


    Baelon hit the dragon��s spine with a heavy thud, rolling to absorb the impact. Even so, the force was enough to crush his insides. But then, something extraordinary happened.


    <em>H��</em>


    Green mes began seeping from Baelon��s pores, and a shimmering, diamond-shaped dragon scale sprouted from his forehead.


    ��Fly, Uragax!��


    Forgetting the pain, Baelon gripped the whip tightly and gave themand. Uragax��s powerful wings pped, but the dragon did not yet realize that the whip��now glowing with green fire��had connected them more deeply than before.


    Baelon��s bloodline had awakened. The ancient Valyrian Dragonlord ancestry he inherited from his father surged to life, triggered by the melee of the three dragons and his own desperate will. His body was transforming, bing something more��something dragonborn.


    ��Roar...��


    Uragax let out a long, low rumble. Something shifted in the ancient dragon��s heart. Memories stirred��the image of a coward who had once abandoned it during the Doom of Valyria. But now, the boy on its back was no coward. He was a warrior, forging a bond unlike anything the dragon had felt in centuries.


    "Fly! Fly! Fly!" Baelon panted, each breath hot, his voice raw with determination. ��Uragax, let you and I change each other��s destinies!��


    Baelon was too young to fully grasp the changes overtaking him, too weak to sustain the transformation his bloodline demanded. But he knew one thing��he had to tame the 300-year-old dragon before his strength gave out.


    ��Roar...��


    Uragax let out a mighty roar, and its colossal body lifted into the air, soaring above Sunspear and heading straight for the shimmering waves of the Summer Sea. Deep within, the ancient dragon could not deny the emotions rising within its scarred heart. The silver-haired boy had be something more��something worthy.


    As they flew, Uragax��s amber pupils reflected the determined face of the boy on its back. No matter how ancient a dragon may be, time wears on even the greatest of beasts. A capable rider could share the weight of those years, easing the burden.


    As dusk settled and the sun sank below the horizon, the sky burned with the fiery hues of the setting sun. Baelon, his body exhausted from the dragonborn transformation, slumped on Uragax��s back, slipping into a dazed state. His heavy eyes fluttered shut, and he reached out to touch the rough, scarred dragon scales beneath him.


    They felt cold, yet warm in cesyered, weathered by time.


    Drowsiness overtook him, and a soft, dreamy smile curved his lips. ��You belong to me, just as I belong to you,�� he whispered.


    He had done it.


    From this moment forward, the 300-year-old dragon was his. Hispanion, his partner. Uragax, the ancient wanderer, was now bound to him in an unbreakable bond.

 Chapter 629: Another Dragon Rider

    Chapter 629: Another Dragon Rider


    It was not known how long it had been, but the sky grew dark.


    "Roar..."


    Compared to the grumpy old woman that Vhagar is, Uragax is more like an ageless, elegantdy.


    Rumble rumble��


    Suddenly, golden mes broke out in the distance, and thick smoke billowed up from arge area. In the distance, the sound of shouting and fighting echoed.


    Uragax''s pupils were indifferent as it circled in ce once, then turned and headed back to the temporary residence at Lemwood. The young dragon and the old one that had trespassed were still in the territory. It had no time to look around. Sunspear once again appears at the edge of the sea.


    "Hmm..."


    Baelon gradually woke from his daze and opened his eyes, confused. Looking around, he realized he was covered in moss-like dark green scales, and on either side of him were wide wings with milky yellow membranes.


    "Uragax, is that you?"Baelon shook his head and climbed off the t back of the dragon.


    "Roar..."


    Uragax rolled its vertical pupils in response to its young master''s query. Docile, it answered all his questions in silence.


    "Haha, I''m confused," Baelon said with a smile, stroking the rough scales beneath him. The old dragon was a special breed��stunted in its growth despite its age��and it would remain at the peak of its powers until it was 300 years old. Its body was covered in scars, obvious signs of the countless hardships it had endured.


    "You don''t have a saddle, and no dorsal fins either," Baelon mused, his curiosity piqued as he looked at the old dragon like a precious treasure. The worn saddle had long since disintegrated, making it harder to ride.


    Rumble rumble...


    Man and dragon were still getting used to each other when a loud rumble came from afar. Fire and smoke filled the dark sky.


    "What''s going on?" Baelon asked in surprise.


    "Roar..."


    Uragax didn��t want to pay any attention to the disturbance. The huge dragon flew back toward Sunspear, attracting the attention of the other two dragons.


    "Roar!"


    Iragaxys''s scarlet pupils glowed as it darted into the sky like an arrow, circling the old dragon that had once fought beside it.


    Baelon smiled happily. "I did it, Iragaxys!" he shouted, waving his arms cheerfully as if calling out to a friend.


    Iragaxys turned its head proudly, then disappeared into the red, ming clouds, hiding its figure.


    "Roar!"


    Vhagar shook its head several times as the old dragon slowly rose to its feet. The average lifespan of a dragon was 200 years, and at 181, Vhagar��s body had begun to age. But this did not mean itsbat effectiveness had diminished. Often, in their twilight years, dragons could unleash astonishing power that they had never known.


    "Stop, Vhagar!"


    Baelon''s face grew solemn as he spoke in High Valyrian: "Don''t die in vain."


    Vhagar was a dragon of the House, one of the most important founding dragons of the Targaryens. Fearless fighting only increased casualties and couldn��t alleviate the pain of internal trauma. As an old dragon that had experienced three riders, Vhagar had an extraordinary wealth of experience. This experience would leave an unshakeable shadow whenever each sessive rider died.


    Vhagar was very old. It had lost too much.


    "Roar!"


    Vhagar looked up, and blood from the sagging folds of its jaw dripped to the ground. It was surprisingly quiet. After a fierce battle, the pent-up emotions in its heart had finally dissipated. Now, atst, it could hear the sounds of the outside world again.


    Seeing this, Baelon let out a relieved smile and leaned down to stroke the rough scales. <em>''What is there not to be satisfied with?''</em> he thought.


    As the sun set, the sea became covered in smoke, and the sky darkened. Baelon was transfixed, his confused thoughts suddenly clearing. "Is that... the Stepstones?"


    Realizing this, he sat up abruptly. "Come with me, Uragax!"


    Baelon looked anxious as he flexed his dragon-taming whip and tapped it against Uragax''s thick scales. Without using the fire magic in his blood, the dragon-taming tools wouldn��t work. A simple tap would suffice tomand the dragon.


    "Roar!"


    Uragax''s pupils remained calm, and it naturally turned in the opposite direction, roaring as it soared toward the raging sea. Since it had reached its prime, no one had dared to bully it��except that dark and treacherous Dragoneater. When the rider gave themand, it would go and take a look.


    "Roar!"


    A ck dragon��s head poked out of the clouds, its scarlet pupils full ofplexity. It looked down at the battered old dragon below, whose enormous body had long since decayed into a mere shadow of its former self.


    ...


    The Stepstones.


    "Attack! Shoot down that golden dragon!"


    Dalton Greyjoy, his face full of madness, personally manned a scorpion crossbow, aiming it at the dragon. Dozens of Iron Inds warships attacked Bloodstone, quickly routing the weak patrol fleet and rushing toward the docks where merchant ships came and went, ready to loot.


    "Roar!"


    A golden dragon darted left and right, dodging the siege of dozens of scorpion crossbows while setting the nearest warships aze.


    "Attack, Sunfyre!"


    Aegon, his face twisted in anger, d in ck steel armor, rode the dragon. His voice was sharp with urgency as he spoke in themon tongue. He was the Prince of the Stepstones and the Warden of the Narrow Sea.


    As he looked down at the Ironborn below, burning, killing, and plundering, his heart ached with grief.


    "Damn the Ironborn!" Aegon gnashed his teeth in rage. "Always picking on the weak. Why don''t they attack King''s Landing?"


    Whoosh!


    Several steel spears whistled through the air, scraping Sunfyre''s neck. The dragon deftly avoided them, its long neck moving with grace. A shrill burst of sound erupted from Sunfyre, a mixture of rm and fury.


    "Hurry up, burn them all!"


    Aegon, forgetting his High Valyrian in the heat of the moment, pped the dragon''s back to urge it on.


    "Roar!"


    Sunfyre was clever and responded swiftly. The dragon leaned forward and charged toward the warship bearing the golden squid��s sigil, spewing golden Dragonfire to clear a path.


    The flying steel spears glowed red-hot as they softened upon impact, harmlessly bouncing off Sunfyre''s golden scales.


    Boom!


    The Dragonfire crashed down on the warship like ink spreading across a basin. Apanied by countless screams, the entire ship became a sea of mes.


    "Is he dead?"


    Aegon, greatly heartened, scanned the chaos, searching for the Red Kraken,mander of the Iron Inds fleet.


    "Shoot him down!"


    Suddenly, a figure with ck hair climbed onto another warship and shouted, ordering the scorpion crossbows to fire in unison.


    Whoosh!


    A dozen steel spears flew fast and furious, aimed straight at the young dragon, now surrounded on all sides. Sunfyre''s slender body tilted upwards, dodging most of the projectiles.


    Puff!


    Just as Sunfyre was about to break free, a steel spear shot from the shadows, piercing the pale pink membrane of one wing. More spears rained down from the sky immediately after. Sunfyre struggled to adjust its body, but he could not avoid them all��its golden hide was covered in blood.


    One spear barely missed Sunfyre''s massive chest, shattering scales and flesh in a burst of pain.


    "Roar!"


    Sunfyre screamed. It was toote to regain height, and the dragon began to fall like a kite with a broken string.


    "Haha, well done!"


    The Red Krakenughed, seizing another scorpion crossbow, eager to finish off the dragon himself. He had allied with the Alliance of Three Cities, gaining vast amounts of wealth, superior warships, and powerful scorpion crossbows.


    If he could capture the Stepstones, even greater fortune awaited him. The Iron Inds were already ruined. With the spoils, he nned to go to Essos and be the infamous King Dalton.


    "Nooooooooooooo!"


    The enemyughed at the rout of his army, relishing their rampant victory. Scenes shed before his eyes like a slideshow, the end of his life drawing near.


    "Roar!"


    A majestic dragon with moss-green scales roared, spitting out green Dragonfire like ink, instantly melting the steel spears in the sky.


    Rumble!


    The massive dragon shot through the air like a meteor, breaking the sound barrier with a deafening roar. Its vertical pupils gleamed menacingly as it swooped low, its tail sweeping across the enemy fleet, toppling several warships in a single blow.


    "Roar! Roar!"


    Sunfyre twisted in mid-air, narrowly avoiding a plunge into the sea. With a violent jolt and a desperate flip, it regained the sky.


    Aegon��s face was nk, stunned by the sudden chaos around him.


    Just then, a familiar shout echoed behind him: "Uragax, Iragaxys!"


    "Roar..."


    Iragaxys, who had been battling across the field, soared at the sound. Dragonfire painted the sea, as though a forest of Lemonwood had sprung from the ocean��s surface.


    Baelon, his face twisted with anger, leaned over his dragon''s back, ring down at the Ironborn fleet below. He knew the Stepstones were in peril, and it was a damned Ironborn attack��one they��d barely escaped.


    Feeling the cold wind bite his skin, Aegon gradually regained his senses. Spotting his great nephew riding Iragaxys, he whispered in relief, "Thank the gods."


    Before the words fully left his lips...


    "Roar..."


    "Roar..."


    Two dragons��one green, one ck��soared through the smoke, diving into the heart of the Ironborn fleet and spewing furious Dragonfire.


    "Follow me!" Baelon shouted, anticipating the call to attack.


    Vhagar, ignoring its injuries, swayed in the air like an unshakable mountain. Iragaxys, agile and relentless, weaved through the battlefield behind the older dragons, its Dragonfire explosive and deadly.


    Though the three dragons were slightly out of sync, the devastation they unleashed was undeniable.


    Aegon was in a daze. Watching his nephew��who once had no dragons��nowmanding three of them left him dumbfounded. "Huh?"


    He looked down at the wounded and whimpering Sunfyre below him, then at the three dragons wreaking havoc across the battlefield. For a man used to being outmatched, it was an iparable blow.


    "Dracarys, burn them all!"


    Baelon��s focus was simple��he had saved his foolish uncle. With the dragon-taming whip in hand, he chased after the fleeing enemy. In his dragonborn state, he had the strength to lead the charge, herding the dragons forward.


    Yet, the other two dragons followed Baelon without needing much guidance. Vhagar, full of rage, led the assault, venting its fury on the Ironborn fleet. Iragaxys followed closely, attacking with skillful precision.


    The bond between the dragons wasn��t perfect, but their shared hardships had forged a deep friendship, a silent agreement to help one another. Even the timid grey dragon, once hesitant, had joined the fight.


    "Roar..."


    Uragax, rtively unscathed, became the dominant force in the naval battle at the Stepstones. One dragon alone had set more than twenty warships aze.


    As night fell, the sea was lit by dozens of "sea candles"��burning ships, their mes dancing on the dark water. The Ironborn were either dead or gravely injured. A few lucky survivors plunged into the sea, only to face the biting cold and hungry fish.


    "Despicable Ironborn. Let''s see if you dare rebel again," Baelon muttered, his voice filled with venom.


    Pure moonlight bathed the scene as Baelon hovered above the blood-red sea, astride his dark green dragon. His hatred for the Ironborn ran deep, fueled by the attacks on the Rivends and the Stepstones. Now, he was locked in a bitter conflict with the Ironborn of the Iron Inds.


    ...


    On Bloodstone Ind...


    "Roar~~"


    Sunfyrey on the ground, panting heavily from exhaustion and injury.


    On the other side, Aegon sat in silence, "tears" almost streaming down his face. "How could everything change so quickly?" he whispered.


    Not long ago, he had been the dragonless nephew, easy to tease. Now, in the blink of an eye, his nephew had be untouchable��beyond provocation.

 Chapter 630: Moondancer Strikes

    Chapter 630: Moondancer Strikes


    As night fell, smoke billowed across the sea.


    <em>Bang!</em>


    Baelon leapt off the back of his dragon and rushed to help his limp Good Uncle to his feet, his expression tense with concern. "How''s Sunfyre?"


    "You should be asking how I am," Aegon muttered helplessly.


    "You seem fine." Baelon nced back at Sunfyre, who was writhing in pain, and added, stabbing Aegon with his words, "What a beautiful dragon, always getting hurt protecting its rider."


    The once pale pink, magnificent wing membrane was now riddled with holes, bothrge and small. There were burns and punctures from stray arrows.


    <em>It''s better not to mention it,</em> Baelon thought. But at the mention of Sunfyre''s injuries, Aegon howled in anguish. "Damn Greyjoy bastard! My Sunfyre!"


    He threw himself at the dragon''s bloody wound, tears streaming down his face.


    <em>Who would have thought the Iron Inds fleet would suddenly attack the Stepstones?</em> Baelon reflected. <em>Their fleet was of such high quality that it rivaled House Vryon''s. It was even better suited for raids than the relentless offensive they were known for.</em>"Don''t be sad, Uncle," Baelon said, stroking the scar on his side. "Once I gather the Rivends lords, we''llunch a crusade against the Iron Inds."


    He had a dragon now. It was time to gather his vassals and fulfill his promise.


    ...


    Stornds, Stonehelm.


    It was a dark night, the waves crashing violently against the towering cliffs. From here, you could just make out the bright fire burning on the Stepstones in the distance.


    "Roar!"


    An ugly, mud-caked dragon slowly crawled out from the shadows, its sharp muzzle mped around a goat, chewing on the grisly mixture of blood and mud.


    Atop its back, Aemond''s single eye gleamed coldly as he stared in the direction of the distant fire.


    "Roar..."


    Having finished its meal, Sheepstealer shook its scrawny body and raised its wings, preparing to take flight.


    "Wait, you idiot," Aemondmanded grimly, halting the Mud Dragon in its tracks.


    Sheepstealer froze for a moment, thenzily copsed onto the ground, letting out a loud burp.


    "We''ll leaveter. Got it?"


    Aemond absently rubbed the one-eyed dagger at his hip, a cruel gleam flickering in his gaze. <em>Aegon was insufferablepletely forgetting the pride of being a Targaryen.</em> He had even pretended to be deaf when asked to aid his sister and nephew.


    <em>It��s time to make him fall... and in a way he��ll never forget.</em>


    ...


    On the other side, by the banks of the Greenblood River...


    <em>Boom!</em>


    A pale dragon shadownded on the empty riverbank, its nostrils ring as it sniffed the air, searching for scents.


    "Roar!"


    Atst, it found arge piece of flesh, slick with dark green scales, half-buried in the mud. A shrill roar echoed in all directions as it began devouring the meat. The sound of crunching and chewing filled the air, while drops of cooling dragon blood dripped onto the ground.


    A gust of wind swept away the dark clouds, revealing the bright moon. Its pale light illuminated the t river��s surface, reflecting the terrifying image of the creature.


    Its body was as pale as ash, covered in dull, lifeless scales. Its eyes glowed a menacing scarlet, while long, twisted horns jutted backward like gnarled tree branches. Its mouth was full of sharp, saliva-dripping teeth.


    "Roar..."


    The pale dragon licked the remaining scraps of dragon meat, a satisfied groan escaping as it raised its head. If anyone had been there, they would have seen its true form more clearly��a pale, monstrous beast with a neck as long and thin as a twisted, dried vine, and a body as sickly and withered as a dying tree.


    Just one nce at it would fill you with dread��it <em>radiated</em> malevolence, as though it had been born to embody evil.


    After licking thest trace of blood from its body, the pale wild dragon shifted its stiff neck, spread its ragged wings full of holes, and soared into the sky. Its withered body swayed as it flew, snakelike, disappearing into the night.


    It was gone. Completely.


    ...


    The next day,


    Golden Fields, Dagger Lake.


    It was still dark, and not a single tent had opened its curtains.


    Rhaegary alone on his bed, his eyes closed but his sleep uneasy. His face was pale, beads of cold sweat dotted his forehead, and his fingers twitched unconsciously on his abdomen. <em>Was he dreaming? Or trapped in a nightmare?</em>


    <em>Crash!</em>


    The tent��s curtain was yanked open, and a figure barged in.


    Daemon, full of impatience, sneered in a mocking tone. "Get up, <em>Your Grace</em>."


    With a startled gasp, Rhaegar shot up from the bed, breathing heavily.


    "Hoo... hoo... hoo..." His chest heaved as he muttered, "A green dragon, a green dragon..."


    "What green dragon?" Daemon frowned.


    "A green dragon... it fell into the water," Rhaegar stammered, pressing his cold palm to his forehead. The memory was slipping away��a confused nightmare of a green dragon flying over the sea. Then, nothing.


    "Hiss..." Rhaegar drew in a sharp breath, biting his tongue to shake off the lingering fog of sleep.


    Seeing his nephew in such a state, Daemon''s eyes narrowed. He interrupted, "We don''t have enough supplies."


    "Then find some," Rhaegar replied absently, rubbing his temples.


    "The ships from Vntis are slow," Daemon continued, his voice lowering. "Someone��s discovered our trail. It seems they''ve mobilized an army to catch us."


    Heughed darkly to himself. "An army arresting dragonriders? Maybe they''re heading straight for the poorly defended Qohor."


    Rhaegar wasn��t listening. His thoughts had drifted to something else. "Rhaenyra wrote to me... Ba has snuck out of King''s Landing." His tone grew more serious. "She might be crossing the Narrow Sea."


    "What?" Daemon''s expression tightened.


    ...


    Pentos, the Valyrian roads.


    A ck Dragonstone road, a relic of the Freehold Empire, stretched ahead��its ancient stones once connecting Norvos to Qohor and a now half-ruined path leading toward Vntis.


    <em>Clop, clop, clop...</em>


    A band of mercenaries rode along the avenue, their war elephants lumbering forward, heading for Qohor. The army numbered over 2,000 men, with 500 cavalry. Towering war elephants, more than ten in total, marched at the front, their enormous bodies d in bronze armor.


    This was one of the most formidable mercenary groups on the continent of Essos, hired by a trusted adviser to the Prince of Pentos.


    The army moved slowly, and soon the sun rose high overhead. By noon, the scorching heat beat down relentlessly, warming the Dragonstone road to the point where it burned beneath the soldiers'' feet. Sweat dripped from their bodies, only to evaporate instantly in the sweltering heat.


    <em>Hoo... hoo... hoo...</em>


    Above, the sound of pping wings cut through the air.


    "Roar!"


    A young dragon with dark green scales streaked in gray spread its wings and soared.


    "Quiet, Moondancer," Bamanded from atop the dragon, her voice calm but firm. d in ck leather armor, she nced down at the column of sellswords below. The troublemakers were within sight.


    "Enemies?" Ba''s eyes lit up with fierce determination. Tugging on the saddle rope, she smirked. "Our chance hase, Moondancer!"


    "Roar!"


    Moondancer snorted, pping her delicate, butterfly-like wings before diving downward, her narrow vertical pupils gleaming with murderous intent.


    Ba and her dragon had left King''s Landing in broad daylight. They should have gone to Lys or Tyrosh, leaving the Gullet behind them and heading straight for Pentos across the Narrow Sea.


    <em>If you want to prove yourself, you can��t hide in the rear,</em> Ba thought as she tightened her grip. <em>If you��re going to go, go to the main battlefield��and speak with the dragon under yourmand.</em>


    ...


    Miles away, along the ancient Valyrian roads...


    "Roar!"


    A magnificent dragon with cobalt blue scales and copper-colored jaws, belly, and talons soaredzily through the sky. Its serene flight was interrupted by the distant roar of another dragon, causing its casual demeanor to shift.


    On the dragon��s back, Daeron was pouring water from his sk when he heard the sound. He paused, wiping his lips, and muttered, "Go after it, Tessarion."


    "Roar!"


    Tessarion snorted, pping its mighty wings in response.


    They were on an escort mission. At the request of Rhaenyra and Rhaena, they had been specially assigned to follow and guard the rebellious Ba.


    The wind whipped against Daeron��s face, distorting his handsome features, but it couldn''t mask the bitterness in his heart.


    <em>No one could refuse amand like this,</em> he reflected grimly. <em>You just had to do as you were told.</em>


    ...


    A few dayster,


    King''s Landing, the Red Keep.


    ��Get in quietly,�� Aemon muttered to himself as he sneaked into the closed king''s chambers. He nced around, eyesnding on the wall where several Valyrian weapons hung silently above the firece.


    "Hehe," Aemon chuckled, his gaze fixed on <em>Truefyre</em>��the whip adorned with a ruby at the handle. His father had forbidden anyone to touch these treasures, but Aemon couldn��t resist.


    He carefully unhooked the whip and swung it around the room, grinning. ��Baelon will thank me when he returns... if he seeds in taming the dragon.��


    <em>Truefyre</em> was no ordinary weapon; it was a Dragon Taming Whip, far more valuable than even a Valyrian steel sword. With a little luck, Aemon thought, he could deliver it to Dragonstone to help his brother in taming a dragon.


    ��Unfortunately, Father took the Dragon Horn with him,�� he muttered, growing bored of his swordy and searching for water. The horn, after all, was too important for their father to part with. Still, <em>Truefyre</em> was impressive enough, much more so than the Dragon w whip Baelon owned.


    <em>Creaaak</em>��the door swung open, startling him.


    Rhaenyra leaned against the frame, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. "Thirsty? Why aren��t you drinking?"


    "Mother!" Aemon froze, sweating as he hastily put down <em>Truefyre</em>. He��d been caught red-handed, and he could already feel the sting of his impending punishment.


    ��Hmph. Who gave you this idle nature?�� Rhaenyra snorted. ��Did you think I wouldn��t notice the missing Dragon Taming Whip��or that someone sneaked into the king''s chambers?��


    She had assumed <em>Truefyre</em> was meant for her eldest son and had been waiting for Aemon to confess. But instead, he kept making foolish mistakes, like a thief in a flea market.


    ��I��m sorry, Mother,�� Aemon mumbled, his head hanging low. He knew all too well that in the streets of Tyrosh, where he had spent time, admitting fault was better than getting beaten.


    Rhaenyra sighed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "I really can��t teach you anything, Aemon. Go to the Mud Gate and see off Irina from ver��s Bay for me.��


    She had no choice but to let his father deal with him upon his return. For now, there were more important matters at hand.


    ��See her off?�� Aemon blinked, confused. Irina was from ver��s Bay and had introduced herself as a Dragonlord��descended from Daeryon family. After poring over his father��s ancient books, Aemon had discovered that there had once been a Dragonlord family in Valyria by that name. But, given the circumstances, letting her leave King��s Landing seemed unwise.


    <em>Better to kill an innocent than let a guilty one go free...</em> Aemon thought.


    ��Don��t look at me like that. This is your father��s decision,�� Rhaenyra said, rolling her eyes. ��Irina��s old-fashioned, from another century. But she��s rarely aggressive.��


    ��So... Father wants to send her back to stabilize ver��s Bay?�� Aemon finished the thought, a flicker of realization crossing his face.


    Rhaenyra nodded. ��Exactly. With the Four Cities Alliance and the remnants of the Triarchy in turmoil, dering war on ver��s Bay would be foolish right now. Better to send back a female Dragonlord without a dragon and buy some peace.��


    Killing Irina wouldn��t serve anyone. Long-term peace with ver''s Bay was worth more than her life.


    ��I understand,�� Aemon said, finally blinking away his confusion. He carefully sidled out of the bedchamber.


    Rhaenyra didn��t stop him, only sighing softly to herself as she watched him leave, muttering, ��My own son...��


    ...


    King''s Landing, Mud Gate.


    Arge ship flying the Daeryon family g sailed swiftly out of ckwater Bay, as though fleeing the city.


    "Roar!"


    A young dragon, covered in green scales and boasting a powerful, majestic form, stood on the city wall like a towering sculpture. Its long tail curved behind it like a scorpion''s sting.


    ��I said, why didn��t anyone notify me?�� Aemon muttered, turning his back on the two figures standing nearby.


    Tormund, the Master of Whisperers, shrugged with a sly smile. ��The Queen wanted to investigate you, Prince. How could we stop her?��


    ��Ever since that Lady met Silverwing, the Dragonpit��s been on high alert,�� Maynard, the Maester of the Dragonpit, added quietly. ��I��ve barely had time for anything, let alone lessons.��


    ��You��re not being very loyal,�� Aemon replied, frowning as he crossed his arms. Friends and teachers alike��they weren��t helping him at all, only making things worse.


    ��Prince,�� Tormund leaned in with a grin, clearly enjoying himself. ��I did hear some interesting news. Pentos hired a Dothraki cavalry, but word has it that they shed with dragons. The Khal took his payment and ran before things got ugly.��


    ��Haha,�� Aemon chuckled dryly, though he didn��t find it funny in the least. A cold feeling crept over him as he gazed out at the vast expanse of ckwater Bay. His restless heart began to settle.


    He couldn��t help but think of Ba. His fianc��e had left without a word, sneaking off to Essos and leaving him behind. She had no fear of the dangers thaty ahead.

 Chapter 631: Baelon “The Brave”

    Chapter 631: Baelon ��The Brave��


    Half a month after the Battle of the Stepstones...


    The Axe, Sothoryos Continent.


    The barren ind was covered in primeval forests and jagged rocks, with flocks of birds and beasts scurrying about from time to time.


    ng! ng!


    Beneath a stone mountain near the shore, a group of ragged young men and women swung picks and wheeled away rubble in creaking barrows.


    "Hurry up, don''t ck off!"


    The overseer, a sellsword wielding a long whip, barked orders, urging each ve to work harder. Those who faltered for even a moment felt thesh almost instantly.


    At the edge of the stone excavation site, two silver-haired men worked side by side. One ned the rock, while the other hauled it away.


    "Brother, I''m hungry," the younger of the two gasped, his frail figure trembling as he hoisted a load of stones onto the cart. His once-pale face was now darkened, gaunt from hunger."Hang in there," the elder replied, swinging his pickaxe against the rock with force. "Lunch won''t be served until noon." He pried loose arge stone, tossed it onto the cart, then fished out a small, sweat-stained piece of ck bread from his cor. It was barely half the size of his palm, the rye flour mixed with husk and bran, hard as Valyrian steel.


    Without a word, he handed it to his younger brother and went back to hisbor.


    "Brother... you''ve given me scraps again." The younger man''s voice was filled with shame as he eyed the bread. He couldn��t even bite into it, his teeth too weak to break the tough crust.


    "Eat it quickly, before someone else takes it," Ken muttered, his eyes scanning the surrounding ves who watched hungrily. Most were on the brink of starvation, barely clinging to life. He and his brother, Kiel, were luckier than most, their silver-blonde Valyrian blood earning them an extra piece of bread each day. It wasn''t much, but it kept them alive��just barely.


    "I thought we were going to have a good life," Kiel whispered, his head hanging as he kicked at the stones beneath his feet.


    They had left the Smoking Sea behind, only to be captured by the newly risen ve city-states built on the ruins of the Old Empire of Ghis. Sold to the Citadel in the Western Continent, they were nearly used for human research. From there, they were sent to Vntis, but pirates from the Triarchy intercepted them, and they narrowly escaped an attack by a dragon.


    At that moment, the brothers had embraced onest time, and prepared for death.


    Who would have thought that, years after the Doom, dragons would be somon, attacking ships without warning? Fortunately, they had been rescued at thest moment... but not by saviors.


    Unfortunately...


    Ken��s face darkened, his jaw clenched as he muttered, "Unfortunately, those who saved us were pirates too. Might��ve been better to die in Dragonfire."


    "You''re right," Kiel agreed, struggling to gnaw on the bread, his teeth threatening to break under the effort. "The Citadel��s food was better, but it was no ce for men to live."


    Ken��s grip tightened on his pickaxe, almost losing control of it.


    Their ancestral home was Oros, the ruins of a Free City near the Fourteen mes, twin to the distant city of Tyria across the sea.


    After the Doom, Oros was shrouded in toxic smoke and haze for years, rendering itpletely uninhabitable. The few who remained struggled to reproduce, but most of the children born were stillborn, deformed, or monstrous. By the time it came to their generation, all of their people had perished, leaving only the two brothers��Ken and Kiel��normal and alive.


    Having spent their entire lives together, shaped by Valyrian customs and istion, their bond deepened in ways that sometimes crossed the boundaries of mere brotherly affection.


    A few years ago, the mists over the Smoking Sea began to thin, and the once-active volcano beneath it fell dormant. Seizing the chance, the brothers cobbled together nks from a wrecked ship, and by sheer luck, managed to escape the cursed waters.


    But their good fortune ended the moment they set foot outside the Smoking Sea.


    "Work, or you''ll feel the whip again."


    Ken, drenched in sweat, did his best to hold on to a vision of a better life, but the dream of reiming their ancestral home was slipping further away. They didn''t even possess a single dragon egg, and here they were��still ves.


    The overseer had promised that when the Free Cities were established, all ves would be free citizens. But Ken had no illusions.


    "I��d rather be eaten by a dragon," Kiel muttered, copsing to the ground, exhausted and hopeless.


    Rumble��


    Suddenly, the earth trembled beneath them.


    "An earthquake!" someone shouted, and the ves scattered in panic, rushing out of the mine.


    Outside, the sky was clear and serene, but above them, a green-and-white wyvern plummeted from the summit of the rocky mountain. Its massive body was battered and bloody, its wings shredded from the fall.


    "Roar!"


    A pale shadow descended from the clouds. A monstrous, emaciated dragontched onto the wyvern��s carcass, tearing at it with its blood-red maw.


    "Dragon!" a ve gasped, frozen in disbelief.


    The mercenary overseer screamed, dropped his whip, and fled. Everyone knew Sothoryos was and of monstrous lizards and basilisks, but no one had ever heard of dragons in thesends.


    Ken swallowed hard, stiff as stone under the dragon''s gaze. ''A living dragon... a real dragon,'' he thought, paralyzed by awe and fear.


    "Dragon! Look at me!" Kiel��s voice suddenly rang out, manic and wild.


    To Ken''s horror, his brother tore off his tattered clothes and began to climb the rocky mountain. His bare skin revealed something Ken had long fearedrge, dark scales covered Kiel��s chest and back, and there was an unnatural hole in his chest where a faintly beating heart was visible.


    Born in a cursednd, Kiel, too, was deformed.


    On the opposite side of his chest was a tattoo��a green dragon, its head and tail coiled into a circle, the ancient sigil of House Berys.


    ��No! Get back!�� Ken shouted, terrified. He knew they couldn��t tame a wild dragon, especially one without a rider. They had no im to such a beast, no power to control it. They weren��t Valyrian dragonlords��not anymore.


    Ken recalled sneaking into the ruins of their house, hidden beneath a broken bridge. There had been nothing left��no treasures, no dragon eggs, only the rotting corpses of Stone Men. The luck of House Berys had long since run dry.


    And as for passing on their legacy... two brothers couldn��t bear children.


    The pale dragon, still tearing into the wyvern��s flesh, paused. Its long, thin neck twisted, and its piercing red eyes locked onto Kiel��s silver-haired figure. Something cruel gleamed in its gaze.


    ��Kiel, stop!�� Ken screamed from below, but Kiel kept climbing, his hand gripping the blood-stained stones.


    The dragon��s scarlet tongue flicked out, tasting the air, as if toying with its prey.


    ��Haha, look���� Kiel began, his arms raised as he came face-to-face with the beast.


    In an instant, the dragon��s blood-red mouth opened wide, and a searing ball of pale fire formed in its throat.


    "Roar!"


    Dragonfire erupted in a deadly bloom, filling the air with the crackle of burning flesh.


    "No! No!" Ken''s scream echoed through the valley, his voice cracking with despair as he watched the dragon''s mes consume his brother.


    With a sickening crunch, the dragon closed its jaws, tearing through Kiel��s charred body. Blood dripped from its maw as it tore away what little remained.


    Satisfied, the pale dragon spread its massive wings and flew off into the sky, leaving only the echo of its roar in the wind.


    Ken fell to his knees, trembling, as the mountain fell silent once more.


    ...


    On the other side, Naath Ind...


    Ssh, ssh...


    Waves gentlypped the shore as a small, rickety boat drifted in from the distant horizon. Triarchy mercenaries patrolled the beach, as they did every day, when they noticed movement aboard the drifting vessel��there were survivors.


    Before long, several Tyroshi dignitaries, dressed in vibrant finery, arrived at the scene.


    "Ahem..."


    A ck-haired man struggled to climb onto the dock, coughing violently as he spat out a mouthful of seawater.


    "Who are you?" one of the sellswords demanded.


    The man, however, offered no response, only a cold, ruthless gleam in his eyes. Without warning, he lunged at the nearest sellsword, sinking his teeth into the man''s neck. With savage brutality, he tore the flesh and drank the blood like a wild animal.


    "Dalton Greyjoy... you''re alive?" one of the Tyroshi eximed in shock as they recognized the infamous Red Kraken, standing blood-soaked over the body of the fallen mercenary.


    It was widely believed that Dalton had perished during the fighting on the Stepstones.


    Dalton, his long, gaunt face pale and gaunt, looked up, his voice raspy with anger. "Damn you! Were you all useless, that you couldn''te to my aid?!"


    If it hadn''t been for his quick dive into the sea, his near-superhuman swimming ability, and the ten minutes he spent fleeing from the battlefield, he''d have long been fish food.


    "That''s not important. How did you get back here?" one of the dignitaries asked dismissively, more interested in the spectacle than Dalton��s harrowing escape.


    The distance between the Stepstones and Naath was vast��almost as far as crossing a continent.


    "I have my ways," Dalton snarled, spitting blood onto the dock. He seized one of the dignitaries by the cor and dragged him closer. "Find me meat and a boat. The Targaryen dragons areing."


    For the first time, fear flickered in his eyes as he spoke.


    There were four dragons in total, and two of them wererger than two warshipsbined. The moment he��d plunged into the sea to escape, the heat from their fire had nearly boiled him alive.


    "What? A Targaryen Dragonlord ising?"


    Panic finally set in among the Tyroshi dignitaries, who began to pace and mutter anxiously. Their forces might be strong, but they were in no shape to face another war against the dragons.


    ...


    Dorne, Sunspear...


    ��Roar����


    Baelon��s eyes gleamed as his voice thundered through the hall: ��The Iron Inds have allied with the Triarchy to rebel. I��ve summoned the Rivends lords and dered war on them!��


    Prince Qyle looked uneasy. "Prince, your father''s orders were different." The King had only instructed a total blockade of the Summer Sea��there had been nomand to dere war.


    ��Well, there is now,�� Baelon snapped, his tone brooking no refusal. Already, he exuded the iron-willed authority of a ruler. Some people would pay in blood for challenging his power, especially after taming Uragax.


    Dalton Greyjoy��the Red Kraken��who had vanished, presumed dead or hiding, would be dragged from whatever sewer he��d crawled into and dealt with once and for all.


    Seeing Baelon''s resolve, Prince Qyle could only nod, his face clouded with concern. Sunspear��s military strength had been greatly diminished��the city itself left in ruins after the dragon melee, with many of its buildings reduced to rubble.


    They were broke.


    But Baelon didn��t care. He strode out of the pce with purpose, ready to seek out the "stupid old man" to discuss his ns for raising an army. Word of the Stepstones had already reached King��s Landing and spread across Westeros like wildfire. Soon, his name��and Uragax''s��would be etched into the annals of history.


    "The Red Kraken�� you��ve destroyed the Iron Inds," Baelon murmured to himself, fingers curling around the hilt of his family sword, Dragon''s w. The weapon filled him with courage, making him fearless of whatever challengesy ahead.


    Once he left, the grand hall of Sunspear fell silent. Prince Qyle slumped dejectedly on his throne, lost in thought.


    From a corner of the room, a small, ck-haired figure peeked out��a striking young woman with a tanned face.


    ��Coryanne, what are you doing here?�� Qyle turned, startled to see his sister spying from the shadows.


    She stepped out boldly. ��Can I marry him?��


    ��Who? Who are you talking about?�� Qyle��s heart sank, a bad feeling stirring in his gut.


    ��Baelon. Brave Baelon the Second!�� Coryanne dered, full of confidence. ��All of Westeros is talking about his great deeds, saying he��ll be the third great conqueror, after Rhaegar I.�� Her eyes gleamed with excitement. Marrying the future king��it was the ultimate prize.


    ��You��re mad.�� Qyle rubbed his forehead in exasperation. ��He��s already engaged. To two different women, no less.��


    ��But the man you arranged for me doesn��t even notice me,�� Coryanne pouted, unwilling to let go of her ambitions.


    Qyle��s worry deepened. ��He��s not even officially betrothed yet! He hasn��t agreed to it.�� King Maekar��s third son, Maekar Targaryen, had returned to King��s Landing after months of negotiation, saying he would either travel to Sunspear or bring Qyle��s sister to King��s Landing so they could meet.


    However, Prince Maekar had stayed in King��s Landing for less than a month before hurrying back to Vntis. Rumors swirled that the King favored his third son and was dissatisfied with his eldest, who had never managed to im a dragon. Some whispered that he might even change the line of session.


    But Prince Maekar had no desire to fight his brother for the throne and had exiled himself to the far-off city of Vntis.


    Of course, no one knew the truth of these rumors. Especially now, when the heir had not one, but three dragons under his control.


    ��Will it ever work out���� Qyle muttered, ncing at his sister, who stood before him as beautiful as a flower in bloom. He buried his face in his hands, troubled by it all.


    In any case, Maekar Targaryen would be a good match for his sister. He came from noble blood, was a dragon rider, and had the King''s favor. Even if he never sat on the Iron Throne, the royal seat in Vntis was still an enticing prospect.


    If Coryanne married him, it would be House Martell��s chance at revival.

 Chapter 632: The Heir Prince’s Temporary Team

    Chapter 632: The Heir Prince��s Temporary Team


    Golden Fields, Chroyane.


    Rushing and roaring...


    The waters of the Rhoyne flowed from upstream to downstream, shrouded in gray mist at its heart. A cityy in the shadows, veiled by the heavy fog.


    This was once the most prosperous and majestic city of the Rhoynar, the site where the Valyrians fought a devastating battle with three hundred dragons. After the conflict, Chroyane was swallowed by the rising mists of the Rhoyne, its glory reduced to ruins and left with only the Stone Men��those stricken by grayscale.


    Boom.


    The sky was clear, and the sun shone brightly.


    Through the mist soared a huge ck creature, its hideous maw spewing endless torrents of green Dragonfire.


    "Be careful, Cannibal," Rhaegar said, frowning slightly as the howls echoed below. It was the cry of the Stone Men, even though they had long since lost the ability to feel pain or think.


    "Roar..."The Cannibal��s green eyes gleamed fiercely as it swooped down, stirring the thick fog. Dark green Dragonfire ignited vast swaths of the shadowed ruins.


    Chroyane had once been a city built on the water, nestled along the Rhoyne, the mother river of the Rhoynar people. Now, Dragonfire, tinged like falling ash, illuminated thend beneath.


    Rhaegar watched it all, patting the dragon��s back. "That''s good, friend."


    "Roar..."


    Cannibal pped its dark wings and soared higher, its nostrils ring in disgust at the stench rising from below��as if something foul and unclean still lingered there.


    ...


    After a short while, the man and the dragon returned to Dagger Lake.


    ��Roar...��


    Caraxes circled in the air, its scarlet body writhing like a serpent, asionally spraying sheets of Dragonfire in yful bursts. Its long, slender neck curved as it moved, and deep within its belly, an endless supply of me churned. Flying and spewing fire seemed to be its way of relieving boredom.


    With a rumble, the Cannibalnded with a heavy thud. The dark dragon, pale horns standing erect, lifted its head, watching the slender reptile in the sky.


    "Quiet, partner," Rhaegar murmured his usual reassurance, rolling off the dragon''s back.


    Dragons were always fierce, but Dragoneaters were even more cunning and unpredictable. They were calm enough most days, but when exposed to cursed ces like the Smoking Sea or Chroyane, they became aggressive.


    Next to the tent, Daemon, looking disheveled, stumbled out and yawned. "So, what did Your Grace find in The Sorrows?" He looked like he had just woken from a hangover, clearly irritated.


    Rhaegar shook his head helplessly. "Wreckage and Stone Men everywhere. If I could have swept it all away, I would have, but all I found was a lot of ruined stone."


    "Just rotten stone?" Daemon wasn��t impressed.


    Rhaegar walked to theke, stripped naked, and waded into the cold water, washing himself off as he spoke: <em>��</em>"Not only that, I saw the skeleton of a dragon."


    Daemon nced at him, then averted his eyes. "Then there��s no mistake. At least three dragons from ancient Valyria fell there."


    To build a Dragonstone castle, you need tons of stone��stone touched by dragonfire. The Golden Fields are deserted, and the nearby towns and markets refuse to answermands. The fastest way to get the castle built is to use the best source of materials along the lower Rhoyne: Chroyane. There are endless stones and the bones of fallen dragons...


    ��Haha, who knows, we might even unearth the bones of Prince Garin,�� Daemon snorted in contempt. Even if Garin��s tale was tragic, it seemed unimportant to him. After all, the destruction of the Triarchy and Vntis was no small thing either.


    Rhaegar, unwilling to engage, shifted the conversation. ��Otto sent word that thebined forces of Bravoos and Lorath attempted a sneak attack on Norvos.��


    He didn��t say the result. There was no need��the attack had obviously failed.


    Daemon, now washing his face in theke to refresh himself, added, ��A letter from King��s Landing says your precious son has tamed an old, nameless dragon and has already rallied the Rivends lords to strike back at the Basilisk Isles.��


    His eyes narrowed slightly as he spoke. ��I heard it was a green dragon, no smaller than Vhagar?��


    Rhaegar was startled by the news, letting the coldke water reach his neck. His eldest son... had tamed a dragon? And now he was organizing the Rivends lords tounch an attack across the Summer Sea?


    ��Strange...�� Rhaegar paused, unsure whether to be proud or worried.


    Daemon gave a knowing look. ��The boy��s not doing too shabby, eh? He��s not so different from you when you were young.�� His tone was calm, but his words carried weight. ��Who managed to find an untamed dragon without drawing any attention?��


    Theke rippled softly as Rhaegar climbed out, dripping water as he walked. ��I also heard Ba is nearly here. Your good daughter burned down two thousand Sellswords in one swoop.��


    ��Huh?�� Daemon frowned, caught off guard. Ba was no pushover, and her personality was fiercer than her mother��s or grandmother��s.


    ��Better get ready to wee my dear cousin,�� Rhaegar said with a wry smile, picking up his clothes and heading for the tent. <em>��Strange or not, who doesn��t act strange at times?��</em>


    Under all the skies, the only person who could control Daemon was Ba��fearless, bold, and afraid of nothing. She would scold him if need be, and Daemon, for all his bravado, would endure it. After all, she was her father��s daughter.


    ...


    Three dayster...


    The green grasnds by Dagger Lake.


    "Roar!"


    A young dragon with dark green scales streaked with gray stripes flew overhead, its movements as graceful and quick as a butterfly. Below, a group of pale-faced Sellswords trudged along, their hands bound with thick ropes. In front of them, seven or eight war elephants marched heavily, their trunks swaying as they moved.


    "Roar!"


    The young dragon soared above the heads of the elephants, startling thergest creatures onnd. In a moment of fear, they urinated and defecated in unison.


    "We''re here, Moondancer," Ba said with a grin, her eyes on the tents by theke.


    She tugged on the reins, expertly guiding the energetic Moondancer down toward the camp in a swift descent.


    They had crushed a mercenary force of two thousand, captured fifteen hundred men, and seized seven war elephants.


    <em>Let��s see if Daemon still thinks of me as a child now,</em> she thought, her smile widening.


    ...


    Compared to the peaceful continent of Essos, the situation across the Narrow Sea was turbulent.


    Sunspear, Tower of the Sun.


    "Hurry, hurry, the council is about to convene."


    Prince Qyle hurried, his short legs pounding against the stone floor, anxiety clear in his every step.


    "Prince, there is still time," said Beric Dayne, Steward of Dorne and Kingsguard, with aplex expression. He took three steps for every one of the prince''s.


    For some reason, Prince Qyle had grown unusually slowly. Though he was already fourteen, he had never grown taller. The Maesters at the Citadel suspected childhood trauma had stunted his growth.


    "There is no time to lose. Today is the first day," Qyle insisted, his old-fashioned demeanor for a teenager making it clear how much he valued first impressions.


    Boom��


    The great doors of the hall swung open, revealing the gathered assembly. The room filled quickly.


    At therge conference table, Baelon stood, discussing battle strategies with serious intensity.


    "Prince, I''mte," Qyle said, maintaining his polite manner and keeping his gaze alert.


    "No, we''re early," Baelon responded, raising his eyes slightly to acknowledge him. They exchanged a pragmatic nce.


    Knock-knock!


    Baelon rapped his knuckles against the white marble table, his expression stern. "Everyone, take your seats."


    After nearly a month of waiting, the vassals from all corners had finally gathered.


    "Yes, Prince." The lords and attendants answered in unison, taking their ces as Prince Qyle watched them closely. Some were familiar faces, others not, but none were unknown to him.


    Baelon, ever meticulous, began introductions in his typical in manner. "This is Johanna Swann, the former ck Swan of Lys. She will be in charge of the rear in theing campaign."


    "Prince," Johanna greeted with a bright smile, dressed in a flowing ck gauze dress.


    One by one, the others followed. Among them was Maester Munkun, who had hurried from King''s Landing to oversee logistics and offer counsel. Master Syrio of Myr, an old man skilled in assassination and intelligence gathering, had been forcibly conscripted into their service.


    In addition to these, there were the lords of the Rivends. Kermit Tully, Lord of Riverrun and Warden of the Three Rivers, was a seasonedmander well-versed in the art of war. His younger brother, Oscar Tully, a capable knight, was skilled in management and logistics, making him an excellent second-inmand. Then there were Benjicot ckwood and ck Aly, the niece and nephew of House ckwood, both formidable warriors.


    Prince Qyle exchanged greetings with each of them, secretly impressed. For someone so young, already the heir to the Iron Throne, he was gathering a core team of remarkable talent. You wouldn��t find such a capable assembly anywhere else in Dorne.


    Boom��


    The doors opened once more, and two figures entered the hall.


    Baelon looked up, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Alyn, you''ve finally arrived."


    Alyn was a handsome young man with short silver-blonde hair and deep purple eyes, his posture upright andmanding. The two were old friends. Alyn, born a bastard to a family of shipwrights in Hull, had once been rmended as a squire by Lord Corlys Vryon. After his brother Addam''s exile, Alyn had been recalled, and though years had passed, he now served as the first mate in the Vryon fleet.


    Dressed in fine clothes, Alyn bowed and said, "Prince, I was ordered by Lord Corlys to bring twenty warships and 1,800 sailors from Hull."


    "Is that all?" Baelon stepped forward to greet him, clearly expecting more.


    Alyn, ever precise, replied, "The numbers may be small, but I assure you, they are the finest ships and sailors on the seas."


    "When will Lord Corlys arrive?" Baelon asked, slightly relieved but still seeking the presence of the Master of Ships and Admiral of the Navy. A campaign against the Basilisk Isles could not seed without a seasoned veteran of great prestige.


    Lowering his voice, Alyn whispered, "Prince, your mother is against the war, and Lord Corlys is keeping watch against Pentos." His departure with this fleet nearly alerted the Prince of Pentos tounch an attack. "King''s Landing is now under full martialw, and the Red Queen patrols the Gullet all day."


    Baelon fell silent at the news. "All right," he said atst. He understood that hasty decisions could bring disaster. Yet putting down the rebellions in the Iron Inds and the Basilisk Isles was urgent��it wasn��t just about revenge or winning favor with the Rivends lords. This was his chance to prove himself and gain the prestige that came with victory.


    His father had united Westeros through a series of relentless victories, won through blood and fire. Though battles like the Stepstones hadn��t made much impact in Westeros, they were famous across Essos. The war that truly marked Westeros�� rise was the obscure "War of the Two Bones." In that conflict, Cannibal stormed into Stone Hedge and burned all the male heirs of House Bracken.


    The shock of this battle resonated through the noble ss, serving as a stern warning against challenging the royal family.


    Baelon knew the importance of such a message. If no one in the Rivends could serve as an example, the Greyjoys of the Iron Inds would. The descendants of the ancient rulers who had dominated the Iron Inds for centuries were ungrateful, driven by nothing but plunder and chaos. Just as the Conqueror had wiped out House Hoare at Harrenhal, the Greyjoys of Red Kraken Dalton would meet the same fate.


    "Prince, the Stepstones are still recovering. It would be wiser to move our forces to Lys," Alyn said, with the confident tone of an aristocrat. He had only just arrived, yet he was already offering tactical advice. Sunspear, after all, was too far from the Basilisk Isles. Lys was much closer.


    Of course, the best staging grounds were Vntis or ver��s Bay, but both territories were too sensitive for a royal heir to visit.


    Baelon''s eyes shed with amusement. "No rush. The Iron Inds haven��t been dealt with yet."


    Alyn hesitated for a moment, opening his mouth as if to say more. But before he could speak...


    "Prince! Prince!" another voice called out, loud and frantic. "I��ve fed all the dragons��more than ten goats!"


    Baelon turned and blinked in surprise. Nettles, wearing a rough gray robe with a bamboo staff tucked under her arm, came rushing toward him. Her ck hair had been shaved into a crew cut, her face round, her nose crooked, and freckles scattered across her cheeks. Dressed like a Dragonkeeper, the girl��s tomboyish appearance was hardly ttering.


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, a gray dragon flew past the Sun Tower, its excited, slender cry piercing the air. It circled slowly, joining the other dragons already hovering above.

 Chapter 633: Baela’s Bravery

    Chapter 633: Ba��s Bravery


    King''s Landing, the Red Keep.


    The Hall of the Council.


    "Lady Maris of Storm''s End has sent a raven, offering 800 men to support the heir prince."


    "Lady Margaery of Highgarden is willing to do the same, offering 1,500 men and half of Arbor''s fleet."


    Jasper, the Master of Laws, and Lyman, the Master of Coin, reported one after the other.


    "Not bad. Add the fleet of House Vryon, and we''ll have an army of over 3,000 men," Viserys remarked, seated in the main chair with a satisfied smile. His grandson''s deration of war seemed more like a jest to him.


    An army of 3,000 men would have no trouble taking the Iron Inds, but the Basilisk Isles would require further consideration.


    "Your Grace..." Grand Maester Orwyle hesitated, as if holding back something.


    Rhaenyra, seated to the left of her father, interrupted, her expression troubled. "Father, you should consider the motives behind their support." Her face showed clear disappointment.Viserys scratched his chin, pondering, "What, are the conditions excessive?"


    "Yes," Rhaenyra added impatiently, a sneer tugging at her lips, "the ck Widow of Highgarden wants Visenya engaged with her brother, she is simply ckmailing us."


    Viserys frowned but said nothing.


    Grand Maester Orwyle continued, "ording to Lady Elenda of Storm''s End, Prince Aemond killed Lady Maris''s fianc�� in a duel. The two were deeply in love."


    The fianc�� in question was none other than Ser Steffon of the Griffin''s Roost, Lady Elenda''s lover and thete Cassandra''s beloved.


    "What are you saying?!" Viserys was bbergasted, certain he had misheard.


    Aemond, his third son, was already married to Lady Celine of House Celtigar.


    They had been wed for years, though their marriage was childless and their rtionship strained. Rumors had recently surfaced that Aemond was involved with Lady Elenda of Storm��s End, a scandal in itself. How could he have be entangled with Lady Maris so soon after?


    "Your Grace, I understand your impatience, but please don''t be hasty," Orwyle urged helplessly. "Prince Aemond is young and impetuous. It��s possible there��s nothing to it."


    "Hah!" Rhaenyra sneered, her disdain clear. <em>''That one-eyed boy is the most opportunistic person I know. To him, women are just ythings. And the women of Storm��s End? They��re no better; all they do is use each other.''</em>


    Viserys, overwhelmed by the growing confusion, found himself unable to make a decision.


    Lyman hesitated before speaking again. "Your Grace, Lord Lyonel of Highgarden has proposed a marriage alliance with the royal family. What is your will?"


    "No!" Rhaenyra cut in sharply. "There''s no need to discuss this further. Neither Rhaegar nor I will allow our children to be used as bargaining chips."


    Lyman fell silent, ncing uneasily at the old king. Though the King��s presence in King''s Landing was limited, his words still carried more weight than Rhaenyra''s.


    Rhaenyra''s face darkened, visibly displeased.


    "We''ll discuss this matter againter," Viserys said with a nervousugh, rising from his seat. "For now, instruct the twodies to send the agreed-upon troops without dy to the frontlines."


    After issuing hismand, he patted Rhaenyra on the shoulder, signaling for her not to be so upset. <em>''It��s just a condition, isn��t it?''</em> he thought. <em>''Like merchants making deals: they pay first, then we decide whether to deliver on the promise or not. The vassals pay in soldiers, and the royal family will see whether they get what they��re after.''</em>


    "Your Grace is wise," the Sea Snake, who had been silently observing, remarked. Rising, he followed the royal party out, his tall figure moving gracefully beside the other advisers.


    Viserys, having spent a lifetime navigating the court, had mastered the art of appearing oblivious. Yet, despite his long reign, he had never suffered a true political defeat.


    ...


    At the same time.


    Naath, the barren jungle.


    "Work harder, and hurry up!"


    "..."


    Apanied by the creaking of hacksaws, towering ancient trees fell to the ground. Arge number of ves stooped, and a dozen or so of them worked together to carry a thick log on their backs towards the shore, gritting their teeth as they struggled under the weight.


    <em>ng!</em>


    Dalton''s face was grim as he swung his axe and chopped at the tree trunk. He had just received the news that the Iron Inds had been destroyed. Pyke had been burned to the ground. The parents, brothers, wives, and concubines of his crew were all killed in the fire.


    The more Dalton thought about it, the angrier he became. Suddenly, he sneered, "Well, good riddance. After all, the crew is all dead." <em>It just so happened that the entire family went to meet the Drowned God in an orderly manner.</em>


    At that moment, a skinny ve walked over and identally tripped while picking up a tree branch.


    <em>Bang</em>��the ve hit the ground the previous second, and the sharp de of Dalton''s axe struck the back of his head the next. The skull cracked with a sickening sound, and blood sprayed as Dalton pulled the axe free.


    Dalton''s eyes were dark as he continued chopping, muttering, "When I have built my fleet, I will show you what true cruelty is."


    The ve''s bodyy beside him, crushed into a grotesque pulp as the tree was felled. Dalton didn''t even nce at it, as if it were no more than a fallen leaf on the ground.


    <em>tter...</em>


    Suddenly, the primeval forest was filled with noise, and birds scattered in all directions. Dalton''s brow furrowed, and he looked up warily.


    <em>Boom��</em>


    The clouds above surged violently, as if some enormous beast were rushing through them, stirring up an inexplicable, chaotic wind.


    "What is that..."


    Dalton''s sharp vision caught the movement in the sky. His pupils contracted. A pale shadow appeared above the clouds, its tattered wings blocking out the sun. A grey-white tail, sharp as a bee''s sting, dangled downward.


    "Dragon!!" Dalton eximed, his face changing drastically.


    The grey-white tail vanished in an instant, but he knew exactly what it was. He would recognize those terrifying creatures that had burned through his family fortune even if they had turned to ash.


    ...


    Essos, Forest of Qohor.


    "Roar!"


    The magnificent Moondancer soared through the air, gliding above the primeval forest. Ba''s short hair whipped around her face as she surveyed the vast expanse below.


    "Fly faster, Moondancer."


    After roughly scanning the eastern area, she tugged on the saddle ropes, guiding the dragon towards another region.


    Moondancer blinked its vertical pupils, its round dragon head turning as it pped its wings, speeding westward. Though the daily patrol was tedious, the dragon never refused its rider''smands.


    As the sun began to set, Ba sighed wearily, "Let''s go back, Moondancer." She gently patted the dragon''s back, a small gesture offort.


    "Roar!"


    Moondancer cried out happily, soaring high into the sky to greet the setting sun as they made their way back to Qohor.


    ...


    Qohor.


    Rhaegar sat in the newly rebuilt temple hall, discussing food and supplies with several of his advisers. Across from him, Daemon idly toyed with an exquisite jade wine cup.


    Cole, d in gleaming silver armor and a white robe, stood tall behind the king, having fought his way to Qohor in loyalty to the crown.


    A gentle rustling... followed by the sound of orderly footsteps. Ba walked into the hall, alone.


    Rhaegar noticed her and asked, "How did it go? Was everything all right today?"


    The construction of the castle at Dagger Lake was progressing well, but the enemy��s counterattacks were bing increasingly aggressive. First, Norvos had risen in rebellion, and then the towns and markets in the Golden Fields had gathered mobs to resist.


    Recently, Braavos and Pentos had rallied the Dothraki across the Great Grass Sea, leading them in raids that burned, killed, and looted their way to Qohor and the Golden Fields.


    In just one month, chaos had swept across the continent of Essos.


    "Your Grace, all is well," Ba replied, removing her slung pack as she stood at attention, her expression weary. She had been responsible for patrolling the Forest of Qohor to prevent Dothraki invasions, but after more than a month on patrol, she hadn��t seen a single trace of the enemy.


    Rhaegar smiled gently. "No one is ever truly safe. Daeron won''t be as lucky as you." He paused, his gaze softening. "You''ve had a long day. Take a seat and rest for a while."


    Ba was many things to him��his cousin, his adopted daughter, and his future daughter-inw. She deserved some measure of special treatment.


    "Thank you, Your Grace," she replied with a forced smile. "Though, I''d rather have some bad luck than waste all this effort for nothing."


    With that, she moved to sit down next to her father.


    <em>Bang</em>��Daemon smashed the jade wine cup onto the chair without even looking up.


    Ba flinched and stared at her father in surprise.


    "Do you think fate favors the unlucky?" Daemon''s voice was low, his eyes sharp. "Daeron fought day and night in the Golden Fields. You should be grateful."


    Ba��s eyes widened in defiance, and she shot back, "Do you take me for a coward?"


    There were only two main battlefields, and Daeron, had gained fame in the Golden Fields. Half of Essos was singing about "the bold Daeron" and the "Blue Queen." Meanwhile, she and Moondancer, though eager for action, had been stationed at the rear, their achievements paling inparison.


    Daemon, used to his daughter''s frustrations, replied indifferently, "You''re not even a coward." His gaze was cold. "How can you call yourself a warrior if you don''t have strength at your core?"


    Ba��s temper red. "What? Don''t you think that''s unreasonable?"Her pent-up emotions from the past month erupted. "Don''t I want to go to war? Who was it that captured the war elephants pounding the ground at Dagger Lake?"


    She had been stationed in Qohor only because her father and cousin had arranged it. If it had been up to her, she would have joined Daeron in quelling the rebellion in the Golden Fields, where she felt her skills belonged.


    "But a few elephants and frightened mercenaries," Daemon retorted, his irritation growing. With an air of superiority, he ordered, "You should have stayed in King��s Landing with your foster mother and fianc��. The battlefield is no ce for a girl."


    Daemon��s temper red further as he added, "Tyrosh sent word that Aegon was nearly killed by the Bastard of the Iron Inds in the Stepstones."


    Ba��s frustration reached its peak. "If a man can do it, I can do it too."With that, she grabbed her pack and stormed out the door, determined to find Daeron and join the effort to quell the rebellion in the Golden Fields.


    Qohor and Norvos had each set ghostly green and scarlet fires that had nearly crushed the uprisings, leaving only scattered mobs in the Golden Fields still fighting.


    The headstrong maiden left without a second thought, ignoring her father''s protests.


    Daemon��s face was a conflicted mix of emotions, the soft words he wanted to say stuck in his throat. In that moment, he caught a glimpse of histe wife, Laena, in his daughter��s retreating figure.


    Rhaegar, who had watched the entire argument, took a sip of his wine and remarked softly, "Your children are grown. There��s no harm in letting her explore the world with Daeron."


    Though the youngest, Daeron was also the mostposed, and the two young dragon riders had proven capable of quelling riots with ease.


    Daemon, who had been somewhat cated by his good nephew��s words, scowled suddenly. "Damn this Vryon blood. Born to rebel." He immediately cast me on the Sea Snake, who was far away in King��s Landing.


    Rhaegar smirked, suppressing augh. "Perhaps a daughter is not meant to be controlled by her father."


    In truth, Ba��s fearless spirit reminded Rhaegar more of a certain Rogue Prince than of the Sea Snake. Both were wild, unruly, and unwilling to ept any limits.


    His second son, Aemon was really "blessed".

 Chapter 634: Brotherly Rift

    Chapter 634: Brotherly Rift


    Half a monthter, The Summer Sea...


    "Roar!"


    A naval battle erupted as nned. The old dragon, its moss-colored scales gleaming in the sun, circled the sea and sank numerous warships flying the banner of the Triarchy.


    "Attack! Long-range archers, fire!"


    On a warship bearing the g of the Seahorse, Alyn, d in silver-gray armor,manded the archers. At his order, a volley of arrows rained down.


    In contrast, the Triarchy pirates appeared defenseless. Their wooden ships were no match for the devastating power of the old dragon��s assault.


    "Dracarys, Uragax!"


    Baelon, seated in his newly crafted green-and-grey saddle, shouted with excitement.


    "Roar��"The old dragon raised its head, roaring as green Dragonfire spilled from its mouth like ink. With a single powerful strike from its hind legs, it tore through the enemy��s sails.


    At that moment, several other dragons descended into the battle.


    "Roar..."


    Vhagar arrived first, its massive form blotting out the sky like a mountain. The overwhelming presence shattered the psychological defenses of the Triarchy pirates.


    Iragaxys, ck and red, followed swiftly. Weaving through the chaos of the ships, its dark Dragonfire exploded in all directions.


    "Roar..."


    A light grey dragon soared high above, asionallyunching massive fireballs down upon the battlefield before retreating to watch from afar.


    The appearance of the dragons turned the tide of the battle in an instant, making the oue one-sided.


    "No, no, no!"


    The Triarchy pirates scrambled in vain to operate their scorpion crossbows. Before they could react, a massive fireball engulfed them.


    With a sizzling sound, they were reduced to ash, along with the smoldering remains of their ship''s deck.


    ...


    An hourter...


    The sea was calm, and a dozen warships were burning furiously, gradually sinking into the waves.


    "Clean up the battlefield and don''t let a single pirate get away," Alynmanded, his face solemn as he personally led the sailors, ensuring no loose ends were left.


    Having spent years at the side of the Sea Snake, he had developed quite the general''s bearing.


    "Roar!"


    ...


    Several dragons circled the sky, the grey one still holding half a charred corpse in its mouth.


    "We won, but it wasn''t easy," Baelon muttered, letting out a small gasp beforeughing as he rode on the back of the dragon.


    He had long since discovered that the pirates of Triarchy wanted to buy goods from Pentos, so he led his fleet to block the sea between Lys and Vntis in advance. A grand naval battle had weakened the enemy''s forces.


    Just as he was reflecting on the battle, a small dark spot appeared in his line of sight. The sky was a brilliant blue and white, while the sea stretched out, magnificent and endless.


    "Roar!"


    A young silver-grey dragon flew swiftly, pausing in midair several miles away.


    Baelon��s eyes narrowed in surprise. "Maekar?"


    The young dragon with the massive head was Tyraxes, and the small figure riding it was his younger brother.


    In the distance, Maekar nced at the battlefield and said quietly, "Let��s go, Tyraxes."


    "Roar!" Tyraxes roared in protest but turned its head, flying back the way they hade. The war was over, and there was no more need to unleash Dragonfire.


    On the other side, Baelon looked anxious. "Why did he leave?"


    He hadn��t seen his younger brother in a long time and missed the little lump. He guessed Maekar hade to help after hearing themotion. Vntis was not far away, and there were patrol ships offshore.


    ''That kid...'' Baelon thought, feeling a pang of reluctance as he watched the silver-haired figure disappear atop the silver-grey dragon.


    As the eldest of his father��s three sons, Baelon had once been close to both Aemon and Maekar. The three brothers had shared a deep bond, capable of doing anything together. But things grewplicated when Aemon began harboring hostility toward Maekar.


    Baelon understood what had changed.


    Of all his siblings, their father favored the three of them the most. As the eldest son, Baelon naturally received the best treatment, which Aemon epted and even celebrated. However, their father��s other favorite was Maekar, the youngest.


    In Aemon''s eyes, affection should flow from eldest to youngest, but being overshadowed by Maekar made him feel secretly aggrieved. Especially since Maekar, with his tinum blonde hair and blue eyes, did not resemble Baelon or their father. Yet their father preferred Maekar, iming that his quiet and decisive nature reminded him of his own younger self.


    Baelon recalled the time he and Aemon had snuck into a corner and overheard their parents talking at night. When their father spoke of Maekar, he described him as easygoing, with no ambition for the throne or worldly matters��much like he had been in his youth.


    Their father, who had been weak and sickly as a child, never desired to take over his mother''s inheritance. He treated Aemon and Maekar very differently. With Aemon, he was strict, demanding perfection and pushing him to excel in everything. But with Maekar, he was more rxed, letting him study history, y the harp, and even manage a Free Cities trading port at a young age.


    Over time, the gap between the brothers widened.


    ''s, there��s nothing I can do about it,'' Baelon thought with a frown, gathering himself as he resumed cleaning up the battlefield. After all, they were brothers, and no knot could not be untangled.


    ...


    Vntis...


    Tyraxes flew back within the ck Wall, gliding over the eastern district beforending in the courtyard of the Magister''s Pce. As Maekar dismounted, a distant howl immediately reached his ears.


    "Prince, you must help me!"


    Startled, Maekar turned to see a familiar figure��a neatlybed head of blonde hair approaching quickly.


    "Prince, it''s too dangerous for you to go out alone," Tnd called out, bowing as he continued his earlier plea. "The ve ships from ver''s Bay are still running rampant, and my brother, Lord Jason, remains captive in the Great Pyramid."


    Desperation clung to Tnd''s voice as he vented his frustrations, clearly weighed down by his worries.


    Maekar regarded him with a strange expression. "Why not ask the Westends to send more gold and ransom your brother back? The old woman didn��t say she wouldn��t release him. The problem is that Jason Lannister refuses to pay."


    Tnd��s face twisted slightly, clearly pained by the suggestion. "Prince, my brother is the Lord of a region. It��s undignified to pay ransom," he muttered, clearly ufortable with the notion.


    "Being mocked as a miserly ''iron cock'' and kept locked in a cage is even more undignified," Maekar replied, his tone practical. "Irina wrote to me recently. She said the ve ships will likely calm down soon and sail toward Sothoryos."


    The old woman knew how to handle such matters. King''s Landing had expanded her horizons, and shemanded respect with ease.


    "Prince, Prince..." Tnd''s voice grew more frantic as Maekar walked away, calling out to him with a worried look. He stretched out a hand, but Maekar did not turn back, offering only the sight of his retreating figure, short tinum-blonde hair shining in the sunlight.


    Tnd eventually stopped, realizing the prince had no intention of responding. His expression shifted, and he let out a sigh of relief. ''It��s just as well he didn��t agree,'' Tnd thought to himself. ''My foolish brother is still too proud to pay, and perhaps a few more years locked up would do him some good.''


    Feeling a sense of satisfaction, Tnd crossed his arms and moved on with his day.


    However, from the gate of the Magister''s residence, a small tinum-blonde head peeked out, observing every move Tnd made.


    "Tsk, what a brotherly rtionship," Maekar muttered with a smirk, further sharpening his already well-honed instincts as a teacher.


    No one can truly teach without everything. He may have studied many books under many Maesters, but it''s easy to be fooled when you''re far from home.


    ...


    In just a few days, news of the victory from the Summer Sea reached King''s Landing. Rumors spread quickly through Flea Bottom and Silk Street, where even the lowest prostitutes and orphans whispered about it. The heir prince was preparing to attack the continent of Sothoryos and burn the remnants of the Triarchy to feed the dragons. Some even imed that the heir prince was the reincarnation of the brave Baelon, who had tamed the mighty Vhagar in a previous life.


    At the same time, in the Red Keep...


    <em>Bang</em>��the door to the Small Council chamber mmed shut as the advisers filed out.


    Rhaenyra, her face pale, walked alone down the corridor, her long, white legs carrying her with determined grace. In Rhaegar''s absence, the advisers no longer took her seriously. They couldn��t agree on how to respond to their eldest son Baelon��s victory in his first battle. Their father, ever the master peacekeeper, had the adviserspletely under his thumb, leaving Rhaenyra to bear the weight of the decisions.


    The pressure now fell on her, both as Queen and the mother of the heir to the throne. Everyone demanded answers��whether to consider Highgarden��s proposal for an alliance, or how to navigate the chaotic situation at Storm��s End.


    ''What a joke!'' she thought bitterly. She had no say in key decisions, yet all the responsibility was ced squarely on her shoulders.


    ��Damn it, these shameless bastards,�� Rhaenyra muttered under her breath, growing more and more furious. Her chest heaved with frustration. If only Rhaegar were here, none of them would dare to treat her this way.


    ...


    After some time, she pushed open the door to her chambers with a creak. Removing her earrings and ring, she felt a great weight lift from her shoulders.


    "Your Grace," said Mysaria, the White Worm, who was leaning casually against a cab with a kind smile.


    "Your Grace, Mother..." Rhaenyra was greeted by a number of familiar faces in her chambers��her adopted daughter Rhaena, her second son Aemon, and Daemon��s eldest son Gaemon alongside his younger brother Aenar. The two boys, being close in age, were currently being corralled by the slightly older Visenya, who was busy examining her younger brother Aegor��s diaper with them.


    ��Look, a wee birdie!�� Visenya eximed, yanking the diaper off and exposing poor Aegor.


    ��Cover him,�� Gaemon scolded, blushing slightly as he nced timidly at Rhaenyra and his sister Rhaena.


    Gaemon hade with Rhaena, apanying their grandfather, Lord Corlys. Aenar, meanwhile, tilted his head, watching the scene unfold with a serious expression.


    Rhaenyra��s head suddenly throbbed, and she grabbed Visenya by the ear, trying her best to keep her temper in check. ��Take the little ones and go outside to y,�� she ordered.


    ��Okay,�� Visenya muttered, not daring to argue. She quickly picked up Aegor and ran out of the room, with Gaemon and Aenar following closely behind��Gaemon making sure to grab the discarded diaper on his way out.


    Soon, the bedchamber was quiet, with only two adults and the older children remaining.


    ��I��m exhausted,�� Rhaenyra sighed, walking to the table to pour herself a ss of wine. Rhaena approached to help, and Rhaenyra gently took her hand, guiding her into a chair.


    ��There have been many stormstely,�� Mysaria remarked. ��The heir prince is very talented, and his first battle was a great victory.��


    Over the years, the once-contemptible White Worm had not aged noticeably, but her bearing had be more refined. She had risen to the upper sses, in no small part due to the influence of her being a mother.


    Rhaenyra regarded her as a trusted confidante, but even so, she couldn��t help but say, ��War is never that simple. There are vultures everywhere, and inside the Red Keep, I��m surrounded by good-for-nothings.��


    With Lyonel Strong��s resignation as Hand of the King after his injury, the Small Council had lost half its power. With Rhaegar away in Essos, the rest of the council had crumbled further. Fortunately, the Master of Whisperers and the Grand Maester remained loyal, allowing them to maintain some control.


    ��War is a disaster,�� Mysaria replied, her eyes thoughtful, ��but it can also be an opportunity. I��ve heard that Lady Ba and Prince Daeron have earned the king��s trust by quelling the riots in the Golden ins.��


    ��I��d prefer they bothe home and take care of things here,�� Rhaenyra said absently.


    Rhaena, seated at the table, remained silent, though a trace of disappointment crossed her face. Her dragon was still too small to be of use in battle. While her sister and her fianc�� could achieve great things, she remained in the Red Keep, looking after the children.

 Chapter 635: Blood Dragon’s Wild Dance

    Chapter 635: Blood Dragon��s Wild Dance


    "Don''t worry, there''s always a ce for us to shine," Aemon said with a grin, giving a yful shoulder bump.


    Rhaena hastily looked down, trying to hide her emotions beneath her brow.


    "The Small Council is not what worries me the most. After all, they are subject to the royal family." Rhaenyra rubbed her brow, a sense of loss in her voice. "Baelon is very brave, but it tears me apart to think of him��a mere child��going off to war."


    She hadn''t been able to sleep for the past few nights. Even in sleep, the cries of her child echoed in her ears, nearly crushing her heart.


    "So, what are your thoughts?" Mysaria, the White Worm, leaned forward, her gaze locking onto Rhaenyra��s.


    The queen is a woman, and women are naturally soft and afraid of war, her fears growing with each passing day as her child remained on the battlefield.


    After a moment of contemtion, she spoke, "I think the continent of Essos is on the right track, and Rhaegar should be brought back to take charge."


    "You can manage the overall situation, and only a little help is needed," Mysaria replied, frowning slightly.


    "That''s different," Rhaenyra murmured quietly. <em>I always feel something big is about to happen, and the father of my child needs to be there,</em> she thought, unable to shake her unease. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to soothe the tension in her brow.Mysaria, still thoughtful, said, "If you''ve made a decision, I can send a raven to deliver the message for you."


    The uncle and nephew who would dare to kill even gods were stationed on the continent of Essos, and the rebellion could not withstand the wrath of the Dragonfire. It seemed wise to withdraw in time.


    "Fine, write the letter," Rhaenyra agreed, reaching for documents from a drawer to look them over. "Baelon��s fleet is cruising in The Summer Sea, and supplies must be transported from Lys and Tyrosh."


    The two Free Citiescked leadership, and their efficiency left much to be desired.


    Mysaria finished writing and suggested, "Ravens aren''t as fast as dragons, and no one can control the order."


    Rhaenyra paused, ncing back at her two children. "You can��t leave King''s Landing. Lys needs someone in charge."


    "A member of the royal family settling in will give Prince Baelon peace of mind on the frontlines," Mysaria replied confidently.


    Rhaenyra opened her mouth to speak but stopped, raising a hand to cover her lips. <em>Who should I send?</em>


    Mysaria continued, analyzing the situation. "Prince Aegon is recovering from his injuries, Prince Aemond is missing, so the only person you can count on is the child you raised yourself."


    "Send me," Aemon said without hesitation, his face uncharacteristically serious. Being able to deliver a message to his father and manage the rear for his brother was the task he had longed for.


    "I can go too," Rhaena''s voice came out as a whisper, barely audible. "I''m young, but I think I can make it across the Narrow Sea."


    Mysaria nced at Rhaena and responded solemnly, "The Prince''s dragon can already handle itself."


    Rhaena couldn''t hide her disappointment as she passed, her heart heavy.


    Rhaenyra reached out, her hands brushing the faces of her two children, her gaze gentle as a pool of still water. She examined every strand of hair, every pore with care.


    "Go, both of you," she suddenly dered, pulling the children into a warm embrace and kissing each of them softly. "One of you will go to the other side of the Narrow Sea, and the other to The Eyrie in the Vale."


    Rhaena looked up in surprise, her cheeks pressed gently against her mother''s soft shoulder.


    ��You will go to The Eyrie and find Lady Jeyne,�� Rhaenyra instructed, her delicate fingers pressing lightly on her daughter''s arm. ��Have her send troops from Gulltown to reinforce the battle at The Summer Sea.��


    ��Yes, Your Grace,�� came the quick response.


    Rhaenyra��s eyes misted over, but her resolve remained firm. ��Right, let''s get ready quickly,�� she added softly, releasing her two children.


    While her foster daughter changed into her dragon riding clothes, Rhaenyra called her second son, Aemon, into another room��the king''s chambers.


    Though it was broad daylight outside, the bedroom was dimly lit. Rhaenyra drew back the curtains, allowing sunlight to spill over the silver and gold hair of mother and son.


    Aemon stood in the doorway, waiting for her words.


    ��Your dragon is bigger and stronger,�� Rhaenyra began, a touch of nostalgia in her voice as she gently ruffled Aemon��s hair, just as she used to do with Rhaegar when he was a child.


    ��And the journey ahead will be long and dangerous.�� Her tone turned serious. ��First, go to Storm��s End and secure Lady Maris''s support. Then, you must find your third uncle, Aemond.��


    ��I will,�� Aemon replied with a nod, his determination clear.


    ��After that, I need you to go to Qohor. Find your father and persuade him to return himself,�� Rhaenyra continued. The matters in Tyrosh and Lys were of less importance now. Aemon understood the deeper meaning of her words��the tide of war was shifting, and soon, it would be up to his father and uncles to lead the charge.


    "That��s enough for now," Rhaenyra said, taking a deep breath. She turned away to discreetly wipe the tears from her eyes. When she faced her son again, she moved toward the wall, where the n sword Truefyre hung. Taking it down with care, she handed it to Aemon, her face tender. ��Take it,�� she said softly, offering it with both hands. ��Take your father��s sword. From now on, you are a man.��


    Aemon��s spirits soared, his hands trembling as he touched the scabbard. Truefyre, iid with rubies, symbolized ��blood and fire����the beginning of war. He marveled at the legacy it carried, just like the other great swords: ckfyre, which stood for royal authority, the Dark Sister for unity, and Dragon w for bravery.


    ��I won��t let this sword down,�� Aemon vowed, gripping it tightly.


    Rhaenyra, filled with emotion, touched the Valyrian ne around her neck. Her fingers lingered on the dragonhead pendant of Balerion on the left, then moved to the dragon pendant of Vhagar on the right. Finally, with a resolute gesture, she removed the Meraxes pendant from the middle. Aemon watched in surprise as she linked it to a chain and ced it around his neck.


    ��This is a reward for your mission,�� she said, her voice warm. ��It��s from your father. Now, it��s yours.��


    Aemon touched the pendant, feeling the lingering warmth from his mother��s skin. Rhaenyra cupped his face in her hands, kissing his left cheek gently, her lips trembling with unspoken words. ��Go now,�� she whispered, ��and remember to feed your dragon well.��


    With Truefyre in hand and the pendant resting against his chest, Aemon left the chambers, excitement coursing through him.


    ...


    The skies above King��s Landing trembled as two young dragons��one green and the other pale pink��took flight from the Dragonpit, soaring in opposite directions.


    The green dragon, powerful and fierce, swooped down from the high clouds, its long, scorpion-like tail cutting through the waves of ckwater Bay below. The sun dipped toward the horizon, casting a tranquil glow over the sea and the city.


    On the open-air corridor of the Red Keep, Rhaenyra stood at the railing, her knuckles white as she gripped the stone edge. She watched the dragons vanish into the distance, her heart heavy with unspoken fears.


    Though the scene was peaceful, the tension in her body betrayed the storm within.


    ...


    Qohor.


    <strong>Qohor.</strong>


    A pale green dragon, its butterfly-like grey and white markings blending seamlessly with the dense forest below, danced through the air.


    "Hurry up, Moondancer," Ba tugged on the reins, urging the young dragon to fly faster.


    Moondancer responded with a soft, long whistle, leaning into the rush of wind as it dove down from the sky, heading toward the towering Free Cities built into the mountains. Its wings fanned out, sending a gust of wind swirling up leaves in its wake. The dragon was fast, its movements light as a swallow.


    Before the sun had fully set, Ba and Moondancernded smoothly. Ba bit off her leather gloves and took long strides toward the temple hall. The rebellion in the golden fields had been mostly quelled��only a few insignificant stragglers remained.


    Her king and cousin had summoned her back urgently that night.


    "Daeron didn''te back?" she asked as she entered the hall, where Rhaegar was busy nting gs across the sand table.


    "He''s still tidying up," Rhaegar replied.


    Ba nced at the sand table, covered with towns and markets upied by the House on the continent of Essos. A surge of pride filled her. Compared to Daeron, who focused on rebuilding viges, deploying war elephants, and reiming water channels, she preferred invasion and conquest, carrying forward the glory of ancient Valyria.


    "It seems you get along well," Rhaegar noted, in a good mood. He pulled down a g and nted it in Pentos, muttering, "The Disputed Lands are impassable, not like the Valyrian roads in Pentos."


    Ba observed him and asked, "Do you want a road that connects everything?" She could go to war and knew she was well-suited formand.


    "Of course," Rhaegar said, smiling, "but not right now."


    Ba was puzzled. "Come and see," Rhaegar beckoned, resting his fingers on the edge of the sand table where The Summer Seay. He couldn''t help but groan. "My eldest son is here, having defeated the pirates of the Triarchy. A good boy, with some skill for warfare."


    "Isn''t that a good thing?" Ba ventured cautiously.


    Compared to their difficult father, Ba and her sisters deeply respected their cousin, who always wore a smile. A smile was not a sign of weakness, just as a cold face was not a weapon. The former warmed hearts, thetter pierced them.


    "It''s a good things, but not everything is good," Rhaegar said, pointing at the Narrow Sea and then The Summer Sea. "The kingdom needs morend to conquer. Sothoryos is too barren."


    As Rhaegar expected, after suppressing the rebellion, his eldest and second sons should have turned their focus to Essos, cultivating the fertile golden wilderness. But Baelon, not one to follow rules, had rushed into war against the Basilisk Isles. The war, which had just subsided, red up again��this time shifting to The Summer Sea.


    Ba, ever astute, asked bluntly, "Your Grace, what do you want me to do?"


    Rhaegar smiled slightly, appreciating her directness. "Two things: First, go to The Eyrie in the Vale and ask Jeyne to send troops from Gulltown to defend against Braavos and Pentos. Second, drag Aemon out of hisfortableir in King''s Landing and position him to guard Tyrosh and Lys from the rear."


    Ba listened carefully, then asked, "Am I staying?"


    Tyrosh had a role for her, and it was better to be with her fianc�� than continue patrolling the Forest of Qohor.


    "As you wish," Rhaegar said, unconcerned. "But be careful on the road. I have a bad feeling about this." He paused, thinking of the bearded priests of Norvos and the nightmares by Dagger Lake. None of it boded well.


    "Understood," Ba replied, her voice high with excitement. She barely caught her breath. "I willplete the mission."


    With that, she strapped on her backpack and strode out the door.


    Rhaegar watched her leave in silence, hoping in his heart that this reassignment would prove to be perfect.


    ...


    Forest of Qohor.


    "Roar!"


    The young dragon soared into the air, its light green scales blending seamlessly with the dense forest below until it vanished into the vast wilderness.


    "First stop, The Eyrie."


    Ba pulled out a piece of parchment, carefully jotting down the route before slipping it back into her backpack with satisfaction. She was a meticulous person, always cautious, fearing she might miss even the smallest detail.


    After finishing her tasks, she wanted to pull Aemon to her side. <em>''Let''s see what Daemon has to say.''</em>


    "Roar!"


    Moondancer, thrilled by the journey, snorted and picked up speed, blowing away the fallen leaves swirling around her.

 Chapter 636: Blood Dragon’s Wild Dance II

    Chapter 636: Blood Dragon��s Wild Dance II


    Soughing...


    Tall trees formed a dense canopy, their fallen leaves and branches carpeting the forest floor in thickyers.


    "Roar!"


    A piercing cry suddenly echoed through the boundless primeval forest. A silver-haired figure, wielding a pickaxe with desperation, swung furiously at arge, hound-like creature shaped like a dragon.


    "Roar~~"


    The brown-bellied wyvern with scaly hide let out a mournful wail, its sharp head exploding into a gory mess.


    "Haha, what good luck," Ken panted, drenched in sweat. He hoisted the hundred-pound corpse and slung it onto his pickaxe.


    This was Axe Ind, deep in the uncharted jungles of the Sothoryos continent��a wild, deserted ce teeming with nothing but Triarchy pirates and enved souls. Ken had escaped here to fulfill his brother Kiel''s dying wish. Kiel, burned to ash in the cremation rites of the Dragonlords of Valyria, had left behind a burden Ken now carried.


    "It''s getting dark," Ken muttered, tapping his trembling legs as he trudged toward the bare mountain range ahead. The entire ind was hostile, but no ce more so than the barren, towering peaks looming in the distance. No vegetation grew on them, and in many ces, the scorched earth was visible��evidence of past destruction.Halfway up the mountain, hidden in the jagged rock,y a cave. The wind howled through it like the wailing of a ghost.


    "Breathe fire and harness wings... Stand with two heads and sing in three..."


    Moonlight bathed the ground as Ken approached, an ancient Valyrian song drifting through the cave, its melody haunting and filled with infinite sadness. Ken''s face was ashen as he dragged the lifeless brown-bellied wyvern behind him.


    <em>''I''m going to die.''</em>


    Wild dragons had no masters. But if Ken didn��t fight for his life, his dream of escaping the Smoking Sea would be nothing more than a memory of a life spent in chains.


    <em>''I will die if I must, brother,''</em> he thought, clutching the bloody corpse. This was the best prey he could find��a lone brown-bellied wyvern.


    Rumble��


    The cave trembled as though something enormous was shifting inside.


    "By my voice, words of fire... Blood magic, the sacrifice has paid off."


    The dragon chant continued, growing louder and more dissonant. The pitch grew sharper, more frenzied.


    Boom��


    A pale dragon head, crowned with twisted horns, emerged from the dark, damp depths. Bloodshot eyes with vertical pupils snapped open. Tick-tock, tick-tock... The creature''s long, sinewy neck extended, and its jaws parted, revealing jagged, irregr fangs. Hungry saliva dripped from its maw, pooling on the ground. Only one head was visible, yet the entire cave radiated a twisted, malevolent energy.


    It was a monster of pure chaos, deranged and unnatural.


    "Gulp."


    Ken swallowed hard, frozen in ce. He stared straight ahead, his mind nk, his breath forgotten. Even the nursery rhyme he had been humming slipped from his memory, as every hair on his body stood on end.


    "Roar..."


    The pale wild dragon��s scarlet, vertical pupils shed with a fierce light, and a low, rumbling growl squeezed out of its throat like a sound wave. Slowly, it revealed its skeletal, slender body. At first nce, it looked like a living skeleton.


    <em>Plop.</em>


    Ken bit his tongue, forcing himself back to full awareness, and threw the wyvern corpse toward the awakened wild dragon. The pale creature nced at it, its sharp wings hooking onto the corpse as it crushed the body beneath them. Its scarlet tongue flicked out, licking at random. Flesh and earth alike were ground into its gaping maw.


    "Dragon, be quiet!" Ken''s heart pounded as he pulled out a dagger and sliced his wrist. ck blood spilled out, the scent quickly arousing the dragon��s ferocity.


    Ken backed away cautiously, muttering a desperate chant under his breath.


    <em>Boom.</em>


    A few tense secondster, the pale wild dragon stopped advancing. It lowered its head, licking the sandy ground stained with dark blood. Ken��s eyes widened as he extended a tentative hand.


    The dragon moved slowly, its long tonguezily licking its hideous muzzle as it nced sideways at the small insect approaching��Ken.


    In the next instant, its scarlet pupils gleamed with savage intent.


    "Roar!"


    ...


    The Next Day, Vntis.


    <em>Whoosh!</em>


    The rm red as the patrol fleet set sail, one ship after another.


    "Prince, Prince!" Tnd hurried toward Maekar, who was preparing to mount his dragon, his voice frantic. "The Red Kraken''s fleet is approaching the port!"


    "I know," Maekar replied calmly, fastening the saddle buckle around his waist. "Send a raven to Baelon. Tell him to watch over Lys and the Stepstones."


    "What?" Tnd blinked, confused. "The enemy ising <em>here</em>!"


    Without another word, Maekar tapped his dragon��s silver-gray scales. "Fly, Tyraxes!"


    <em>It won��t change anything,</em> he thought. <em>Let hime.</em>


    "Roar!"


    Tyraxes stretched its neck, roaring as it leaped from the ck Wall, misty wings unfurling in the wind.


    Beyond the harbor...


    <em>Whoosh!</em>


    Dozens of warships cut through the Summer Sea, sailing in perfect formation, ready to storm Vntis. At the head of the fleet was a three-masted ship flying the golden Kraken banner of House Greyjoy.


    "Loose the arrows!" The beardedmander ordered, and the pirates unleashed a deadly volley. On the shore, the patrol ships of Vntis formed a defensive line, the Unsullied in their ck armor standing resolute.


    "Roar!"


    A dragon��s roar echoed through the sky, signaling the battle��s beginning.


    "Dracarys, Tyraxes!"


    Maekar, perched atop his dragon, his sapphire eyes fixed on the fleet below, gave themand. Tyraxes roared in response, swooping down toward the lead warship. A plume of silver-gray dragonfire poured from its maw, resembling smoke and mist.


    "Ahhh!"


    The golden Kraken banner ignited instantly, mes consuming the ship, killing and maiming many in the process. A smaller dragon joined the assault, tipping the scales of battle��but it wasn��t enough.


    "Roar..."


    From a distance, a low, thunderous dragon roar reverberated for miles. The sound came with the force of a storm.


    "Dracarys!"


    A massive, moss-green dragon descended from the clouds. Following its orders, it unleashed a devastating attack, leaving chaos in its wake. Baelon, wearing a silver-and-gold cape, rode the dragon, his hair tousled by the wind. He locked eyes with his younger brother, Maekar.


    "Roar!"


    Tyraxes soared overhead, easily dodging arrows and spears, raining down dragonfire with lethal precision. Maekar stayed low in the ck steel saddle, perfectly in sync with his dragon. Together, they were a force that could tear through any enemy formation.


    "I��ll help you, Maekar!" Baelon shouted, his voice filled with excitement. "Let��s drive these Triarchy pirates back where they came from!"


    There was no reply from Maekar, but after a moment, a small white hand emerged from the ck steel saddle, giving a thumbs-up.


    "Haha!" Baelonughed and rode his dragon, sweeping across the battlefield. Though he had only brought one dragon, its sheer power sent the enemy fleet into disarray.


    <em>Whoosh��</em>


    A fleet approached from the direction of the Stepstones, its sails bearing the sigils of three red dragons and a blue seahorse. With this new, powerful force, the Triarchy��s fleet copsedpletely.


    By the time the sun reached its zenith, the battle was over.


    ...


    Vntis, Magister''s Pce.


    The two brothers dismounted from their dragon and walked hand in hand toward the pce.


    Baelon, overjoyed, couldn''t stop talking. "The Triarchy lost 40 ships, big and small, so they won��t be able to fight a naval battle anymore."


    Maekar remained silent.


    "Why are you so quiet?" Baelon asked, feeling a little strange when his brother stayed quiet.


    With a sigh, Maekar finally spoke, "We haven''t found the Red Kraken."


    The fleet had been so weak, as if it was a hodgepodge thrown together at thest minute.


    Baelon was no fool and immediately caught on. "A distraction," he said, realization dawning. One fleet would attack Vntis while the Red Kraken led the main force to strike somewhere else.


    "But where could he go?" Baelon wondered aloud. There were no Free Cities nearby that could be easily taken.


    Maekar frowned and muttered, "I thought he might go to Lys or the Stepstones, but it seems the Red Kraken doesn��t have the guts."


    Where else could he go?


    Just then, a voice interrupted their thoughts.


    "Prince!"


    As soon as the brothers entered the gate, Tnd, fully armed, rushed out, clutching a letter in his hand. Seeing the two young princes approaching hand in hand, he nearly stumbled backward in surprise.


    "What��s wrong, Lord Tnd?" Baelon, who was moreposed, couldn��t help but frown. Could he really trust such a flustered teacher?


    "Er..." Tnd nced at Maekar, hesitating. "This letter is for the young Prince."


    As the loyal Governor of Vntis, he would of course deliver the news directly to the one in charge.


    "Let me see," Maekar said, taking the envelope and opening it. He leaned over to Baelon so they could read it together.


    The letter was signed by Irina Daeryon of ver��s Bay. Its meaning was clear: Vntis wanted to join the war against the Basilisk Isles, and ver��s Bay was willing to offer manpower and resources. The conditions, however...


    A dark line appeared on Baelon��s forehead as he nced at his brother, who was only chest-high. ''This woman... she��s actually trying to take advantage as an old woman.''


    "I won��t agree to it." Maekar crumpled the letter into a ball, tossed it to the ground, and stomped on it. "Old woman."


    She coveted his body, but he wouldn��t let her seed. Even if Vntis was poor and broken, and every Unsullied sacrificed, Maekar would not allow an old woman with malicious intentions to have her way.


    ...


    Another day and night passed.


    The Axe, In a bare mountain dragonir.


    With a low rumble, the pale wild dragon wriggled its ghostly body, devouring the decaying corpse of a wyvern.


    "Hooo... hooo..."


    A wheezing sound echoed from the top of the cave. Half of the creature''s body was charred ck, the other half a twisted, living corpse. Its silver fur had fused into a sticky, matted mess, and ity curled miserably in a gap in the rock wall.


    "It hurts... it hurts..."


    A miserable groan escaped from the creature as it opened a single purple eye. The charred body shifted slightly, revealing a face half burned, half intact. The once silver-and-gold fur had melted into a paste, sticking so tightly to its skin that it could barely open its eyes.


    Ken was not dead��at least not yet.


    The ritual of taming the dragon, taught in the ancient texts, had been useless. He had still been attacked, grievously wounded. The pale wild dragon was cruel by nature, seeming to enjoy tormenting its prey, allowing Ken to linger in agony, licking at thest remnants of life.


    <em>Sizzle!</em>


    The wyvern��s flesh was torn away, bloodied carrion writhing with maggots. The dragon feasted until its hunger was sated, the madness in its scarlet eyes fading slightly. It crawled back to its nest like a dying beast, frail and emaciated, with its dark bones visible beneath its thin skin and scales.


    The stiff grinding of its neck and body as it moved betrayed its great age.


    Keny on his side, one blind eye tracking the huge creature as it slithered past him.


    "Uhh..."


    His burnt waist twisted with a final burst of strength, and he let his body fall. With a sickening thud, he crashed onto the dragon��s back, his body mming into its hard scales. The recoil was nearly enough to make him lose consciousness, and the sharp crack of breaking bones rang in his ears.


    <em>CRACK!</em>


    The massive beast jerked in pain, crashing into the cave wall. The impact caused the entire cave to copse around them.


    "Roar..."


    The pale wild dragon poked its head out from the rubble, pping its tattered, pale wings. With a wild roar, it shot up into the night sky.


    In an instant, the sky zed with light, as if fireworks had exploded across the heavens��from Axe Ind to the Basilisk Isles, from the Summer Sea to the Sea of Dorne.


    The only sounds that remained were the man��s low, broken screams, and the frenzied roar of the terrible beast.

 Chapter 637: Blood Dragon’s Wild Dance III

    Chapter 637: Blood Dragon��s Wild Dance III


    King''s Landing, the Throne Hall.


    ��You are right, but the matter of marriage requires careful consideration.��


    In the dimly lit hall, Viserys sat on the Iron Throne, negotiating with several royal advisers and vassals.


    ��Your Grace, the young and capable Lord Lyonel of Highgarden is a fine match,�� Lyman Beesbury, an old man in poor health, suggested.


    Grand Maester Orwyle interjected, ��If that is your choice, then Lord Lyonel of Oldtown is also an excellent candidate.��


    ��That��s not the same...�� The advisers began to argue, their voices echoing in the flickering candlelight.


    Viserys leaned wearily against the Iron Throne, his hand resting on the armrest shaped like Vermithor��s head. He closed his eyes in exhaustion.


    He had not slept in three days.


    The advisers resembled caged birds, eager to push him into the same old marriage alliances forged by his grandfather Jaehaerys. But Viserys wasn��t Jaehaerys, and Rhaegar��s children were the concern of his children, not his.First, he would secure the loyalty of his vassals, then he would pretend not to hear their incessant bickering.


    As the night wore on, the old king fell asleep.


    The advisers continued to argue, unaware that their king was no longer listening. After all, who wouldn''t want to marry into the royal family and im the bloodline of the ancient Valyrian Dragonlords?


    Soft snoring began to fill the hall.


    Viserys slept soundly until��


    <em>Crack!</em>


    A sudden p of thunder shook the hall, sounding like a silver vase shattering.


    Viserys jolted awake, mumbling in confusion, ��Water... so much water...��


    His chest heaved as he caught his breath. It had been a nightmare, a terrible and torturous scene.


    He looked around, his eyesnding on the white-robed Arryk. ��What time is it?�� Viserys asked urgently.


    Arryk nced out the window and replied solemnly, ��It��s nearly the bat hour, Your Grace. It��s raining heavily in the city.��


    The sound of rain must have been what had disturbed Viserys in his sleep.


    ��Is that so?�� Viserys muttered, his face pale. He gripped the object in his hands more tightly.


    <em>Crack!</em>


    His left index finger caught on the fang of the dragon-shaped armrest, tearing open a small cut. Viserys stared, wide-eyed, as blood began to well from the wound.


    The rain intensified outside, drumming heavily against the windows and filling the air with thick vapor.


    Looking out into the storm, Arryk, a member of the personal Kingsguard, silently drew the curtains shut. ��I hope the Prince is safe,�� he murmured.


    The Kingsguard, unable to ride dragons, remained in King''s Landing, bound by duty to wait.


    ...


    Storm''s End, Courtyard.


    The sound of rain pattered steadily on the stone, apanied by shes of lightning that illuminated the dark clouds above. The heavy rain fell in torrents, soaking thend beneath.


    Aemon, draped in a crimson cloak, dashed out of the castle into the downpour.


    ��Prince, please stay for the night!�� several guards called after him, trying to dissuade the storming Prince.


    ��No! I will not serve Lady Maris,�� Aemon snapped, quickening his pace. The rain drenched his gold and silver hair, blurring his vision as he hurried through the courtyard.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    The Trickster, his dragon,y coiled under a rain canopy, waiting for its indignant rider. They had arrived at Storm��s End under thick clouds, and now the heavens had opened.


    Aemon reached the dragon, pping its dark green scales slick with rain. He leaned in, whispering in its ear, ��Listen to mymands, Trickster.��


    He couldn''t bear to spend another moment in that cursed castle.


    Despite the risks of riding a dragon in such weather, he was determined to leave.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    The Trickster shook its head, then bent low, inviting Aemon to mount. This was no ordinary dragon��it could navigate through storms with ease, defying the fury of nature.


    ��Good boy, Trickster,�� Aemon muttered, casting onest nce at the open hall of Storm''s End before retching in disgust.


    <em>Damn that old woman! Gold-diggingwhore!</em>


    He had been sent here to assemble the fleet and aid his brother in the Summer Sea campaign, and to search for his uncle, the one-eyed Aemond. But the negotiations had gone sour.


    When the subject of his uncle arose, everything had taken a dark turn. Despite Aemon��s insistence, Lady Maris of Storm''s End had responded with insolence.


    Sitting arrogantly upon the throne in the hall, she had crossed her legs and sneered, ��Lift up my skirt and satisfy me with your mouth, and the armies of the Stornds are yours.��


    <em>Bah!</em>


    Aemon cursed under his breath, his anger simmering. ��Damn old woman, always scheming about us brothers.��


    The rain intensified, the cold drops stinging his skin as they fell harder. Shivering, Aemon climbed nimbly onto the dragon��s back. He had already made up his mind.


    ��We��re heading to Evenfall Hall on Tarth. They won��t turn away a Targaryen named Aemon.��


    Prince Aemon, heir to the Old King, had been supporting the Lord of Tarth against the pirates of the Triarchy before being in by an assassin from Tyrosh. Now, with Storm''s End behind him, he looked toward Duskwood��a ce where both dragon and rider could rest.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    The Trickster blinked its vertical pupils, eager to take to the skies. Its wings spread wide as itunched into the storm, the slender tail, reminiscent of a scorpion��s, buzzing and slicing through the rain as they soared higher, piercing the storm��s heart.


    ...


    Above Shipbreaker Bay.


    Rumbling thunder echoed across the sky, apanied by the roar of fierce winds and driving rain that swept over thend.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    A young dark green dragon, Trickster, unfurled its wings and soared through the stormy skies, flying steadily despite its vertical pupils being unable to distinguish direction in the storm.


    ��Achoo! Achoo!��


    Aemon sneezed twice, rubbing his nose ufortably. He muttered in frustration, ��My brother and Maekar manage just fine with a single call, but here I am, nearly losing my footing.��


    His thoughts drifted to Lady Maris. <em>You shameless hussy... you slept with my uncle Aemond, and now you think you can get your hands on me? What a delusion.</em>


    ��What do you think, Trickster?�� Aemon patted the dragon��s back, talking more to himself than expecting a reply. ��Doesn��t that seem unfair?��


    Trickster didn��t respond, but it increased its speed, its vertical pupils ncing cautiously toward a certain area.


    ��What��s wrong, Trickster?�� Aemon asked, his senses sharpening as he looked back over his shoulder. His visibility was poor��only a few dozen meters in the overcast sky. The sounds of rolling ck clouds, pattering rain, and crashing waves filled his ears.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Suddenly, Trickster tensed and swooped low, skimming over the waves as it let out a warning roar.


    Aemon��s face paled slightly, his hands tightening on the saddle grips. Water streamed down his cheeks, though he couldn��t tell if it was rain or cold sweat. Trickster��s agitation spread to him, and his heart began to race.


    The dragon glided just above the water, skillfully dodging jagged reefs as it pressed on toward their destination.


    ��Faster,�� Aemon urged, squinting through the rain as the hazy outline of Naath appeared in the distance. <em>Once we reach Evenfall Hall, we��ll be safe.</em>


    <em>Crackling��</em>


    A sudden sh of crimson lightning split the night sky, illuminating the storm-soaked world like daylight.


    Aemon quickly nced over his shoulder.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    A pale silver dragon surged through the dark clouds, its roar cutting through the storm. Aemon''s eyes widened in rm. ��Seasmoke!�� he shouted, recognizing the silhouette.


    The rainshed against his face as he studied the shape, then let out a long sigh of relief.


    It wasn��t an attack��it was just Seasmoke gliding through the sea fog, its familiar form cutting through the storm.


    ��Luckily...�� Aemon muttered, rxing his grip. He knew Seasmoke��s docile nature; it wouldn��t attack unless provoked.


    As soon as the words left Aemon��s mouth��


    <em>Ssshh... Roar!</em>


    A loud crack of thunder split the sky, followed by the enraged roar of a crazed beast echoing through the storm.


    <em>Ssshh... Roar!</em>


    Seasmoke let out a panicked cry, blood dripping from one of its wings as it dove sharply, lowering its body in an attempt to escape. Before Aemon could react, he was stunned by the deafening roar.


    In the next instant, a pale, bone-looking creature broke through the clouds, itsrge, tattered wings pping as it rapidly closed in on the wounded dragon.


    <em>Crack!</em>


    The pale shadow lunged, opening its foul-smelling maw. Its sharp fangs tore into Seasmoke��s bleeding wing, crushing scales and bone with a vicious bite.


    Seasmoke shrieked in agony, his body lurching mid-flight as the pale creature mped down on his shoulder de. The attacker shook its head violently, trying to rip the wing clean off.


    ��Dracarys!�� Aemon shouted desperately.


    At that critical moment, a burst of orange dragonfire erupted from Seasmoke��s mouth, striking the head of the pale beast with a blinding sh.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The fire lit up the stormy sky, revealing the horrifying appearance of the Pale Wild Dragon. It had a skeletal frame, wings riddled with holes, and a grotesque, drooling mouth. Its sickly body seemed to drip with a nightmarish saliva, giving it a twisted, unnatural look.


    ��Seven hells... what <em>is</em> that thing?�� Aemon gasped. He had never seen anything so monstrous��not even Sheepstealer, with its gaunt, bby form, nor the Cannibal, known for his ck scales and cold, predatory eyes. This creature was uglier, more vicious, and far more grotesque.


    <em>Ssshh...Roar...</em>


    The Pale Wild Dragon screeched in pain, releasing its grip on Seasmoke��s wing. Its scarlet eyes, burning with rage, locked onto Trickster, the young green dragon not far away. Without warning, it spewed a stream of pale dragonfire, sparks flying like deadly fireworks.


    ��Quick, Trickster! Get out of the way!�� Aemon tightened the reins, instinctively raising his hand to shield himself.


    Trickster reacted with lightning speed, its scorpion-like tail swaying as it nimbly dodged the pale mes.


    ��Well done,�� Aemon breathed, his hair stered to his face by the rain. His eyes darted to Seasmoke, who was still shrieking in pain, the wing injury leaving him vulnerable. If Aemon left now, the wild dragon would finish Seasmoke off. But if he stayed...


    Trickster pulled back, giving Aemon a better view of the pale wild dragon. His brow furrowed in concern. The creature, which looked like a Dragoneater, was enormous��at least twice Seasmoke��s size. It must have been nearly 80 meters long, rivaling dragons like Silverwing or Caraxes.


    But what troubled Aemon most was the decaying aura the creature exuded. This was no dragon in its prime. It was a walking corpse, with a lifeless, rotting presence.


    <em>Ssshh...Roar...</em>


    The Pale Wild Dragon let out another bloodcurdling roar, charging at Trickster with ferocious speed.


    ��Do you remember what I said, Trickster?�� Aemon��s voice trembled with urgency as he tightened the saddle straps.


    There was no choice now��this wasn��t just about fighting. It was about survival, preventing the wild dragon from killing Seasmoke and escaping with their lives.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Trickster hissed in response, its powerful body coiling as orange mes gathered in its mouth. The young dragon had been bred for battle, fearless even when facing a farrger foe.


    ��Good boy. Follow me!�� Aemonmanded, a sh of determination in his eyes as he pulled the reins to change direction.


    Trickster responded instantly, disappearing into the thick sea fog with swift, fluid movements.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    A torrent of pale dragonfire fell from the sky, hot on their trail.


    ��Be careful, Trickster,�� Aemon urged, his heart racing. He nced back at the wounded Seasmoke, torn between helping and fleeing.


    He remembered a reef cliff along Shipbreaker Bay, a ce just narrow enough for a young dragon to hide. Fighting wasn��t an option; running would only bring more danger. Neither King��s Landing nor Dragonstone had enough forces to defend against a wild dragon like this. If Aemon led it back, countless lives would be lost.


    Instead, he relied on his memory of the coast��s natural defenses. <em>We��ll outwit it,</em> he thought, guiding Trickster toward the cliff.

 Chapter 638: The Battle of Shipbreaker Bay

    Chapter 638: The Battle of Shipbreaker Bay


    It was raining... pouring. The night was thick with the deluge.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    The Trickster soared through the storm, navigating the sky as it shifted from the open sea to a craggy cliff, where smaller shapes darted about in the shadows.


    Aemon wiped the rain from his face, squinting up at the night sky.


    <em>Crackling��</em>


    A sh of lightning split the darkness, followed by a deep rumble of thunder. Through the storm clouds, the silhouette of a massive dragon emerged��its size overwhelming, four times as long as a young dragon.


    ��Let��s turn around, Trickster,�� Aemon said quickly, tugging on the saddle rope as he spotted a turn along the jagged cliff. The reef cliffs were like a long, narrow maze, and with the storm overhead, it was nearly impossible to tell sky from sea.


    But he remembered.


    Trickster narrowed its vertical pupils, tilting its head before flipping sideways, executing a rapid, precise turn. Its muscr body moved with agility, reacting as if it anticipated Aemon��s every thought.<em>Boom!</em>


    A searing white stream of dragonfire crashed into the cliff where they had been moments before.


    ��Faster, Trickster. See if you can shake it off,�� Aemon urged, a small smile creeping across his face despite the danger. If they could pull off the maneuver, they might lose the Pale Wild Dragon behind them.


    <em>King��s Landing has two dragons... Vermithor and Syrax,</em> he thought. <em>But my grandfather and mother are hardly adept riders, and it��s a long way from here to the Dragonpit.</em>


    His mind wandered to Meleys, the dragon of his great-aunt Rhaenys, who patrolled The Gullet. <em>Would Meleys be out on a night like this?</em> The rain soaked his face, bringing him back to reality.


    Even the swiftest dragons would stay grounded in this storm, and Driftmark was too far. They had no choice but to evade their pursuer.


    <em>Ssshh...gah...</em>


    The Pale Wild Dragon reappeared, breaking through the dark clouds. Its nostrils red as it sniffed the air, its blood-red eyes scanning the cliffs.


    ��Faster,�� Aemon muttered through gritted teeth. ��We��ll make for Stonehelm!��


    Apart from Vermithor, no dragon could decisively defeat a Dragoneater like this wild beast. Meleys might put up a fight, but at best, it would end in a deadly draw. If Aemon could lure the Pale Wild Dragon to the isted Stonehelm, maybe they��d cross paths with his one-eyed uncle, Aemond.


    And if that failed, they could always hide in the Rainwood.


    <em>Crackling��</em>


    The rain grew heavier, pounding down so fiercely it was nearly impossible to see.


    The Pale Wild Dragon circled above the maze of reefs, asionally spewing dragonfire to illuminate the rain-soaked world.


    ��Dracarys, Trickster!�� Aemon shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of the storm and the waves crashing below.


    The Pale Wild Dragon, sensing its prey, lowered its head. Its scarlet pupils gleamed with hunger as it sought its next meal.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Suddenly, a sharp dragon��s roar erupted from the side. Trickster darted forward like a spear, its scorpion-like tail straight and tense, surging toward the massive dragon.


    With a deafening rumble, Trickster unleashed a torrent of orange dragonfire. It struck the Pale Wild Dragon��s side, exploding into a mushroom cloud of me and heat.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    The Pale Wild Dragon let out a shriek, but the mes consumed it. The dragon��s side was scorched beyond recognition��its once-bright scarlet eye burst and shattered, while pale scales were stained with dark, foul blood.


    When the smoke cleared, the wild dragon staggered, casting a desperate nce with its remaining eye. But the damage was done.


    By the time it opened its eye again, the young dragon and its rider had already disappeared into the storm.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    The pale wild dragon growled, its throat rumbling as it red its nostrils, searching the air for a scent. It hovered relentlessly over the group of reefs, unwilling to leave.


    Meanwhile, in a shadowed corner of the rocky cliff...


    Trickster panted, his hind legs braced against a jagged reef column, his chest heaving with exhaustion.


    ��It��s still here... can it smell us?�� Aemon muttered, his face flushed as the rain streamed through his soaked hair. He and Trickster had done everything they could, but the constant strain of flying in the heavy rain had taken its toll. If they stayed tangled in this fight much longer, they would end up crashing into the sea.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    A st of pale dragonfire streaked down from the sky, striking the distant waves. The light from the mes illuminated the churning sea.


    Aemon scanned the cliffs, searching for a better position. He needed a new angle, a way to strike. <em>If I could just get to the other eye...</em> he thought. His father had always said that dragon fights weren��t just about size, but ruthlessness.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    A sudden dragon roar echoed from afar, cutting through the storm.


    Aemon��s eyes darted down. The pale wild dragon froze, swiveling its head warily��its remaining eye darting back and forth, unable to fully assess its surroundings. The injured eye socket, still oozing blood, was left exposed.


    Then, from the dark clouds, a light silver dragon dived headlong, trailing silver and orange dragonfire in its wake.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The fiery st struck the pale wild dragon squarely on the side of its head. It let out a piercing shriek, shaking violently as the mes scorched its empty eye socket. The great beast wobbled unsteadily, nearly crashing into the cliffs below.


    ��Seasmoke!�� Aemon eximed, a mix of surprise and relief flooding his voice. Without hesitation, hemanded, ��Go around to the back, Trickster!��


    With Seasmoke buying them time, the blind Dragoneater wouldn��t be able to focus on them.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Seasmoke, though injured, hadnded a solid hit. It rose unsteadily into the air, one wing hanging limply by its side. It was clear that the older dragon could barely stay aloft.


    Furious, the Pale Wild Dragon turned its focus away from Trickster and charged after Seasmoke, determined to finish its wounded prey.


    ��Dracarys!�� Aemon urged, and Trickster sprang into action. The young dragon lunged forward, unleashing a torrent of fire. The mes struck the Pale Wild Dragon on the neck, scorching its pale scales ck.


    <em>Grr...</em>


    The Pale Wild Dragon growled low, its neck smoldering as it pped its tattered wings and disappeared into the stormy clouds above.


    ��Missed... but that was close,�� Aemon muttered in frustration, mming his fist against the saddle. He squinted through the rain, watching the Pale Wild Dragon vanish from sight.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Trickster let out a low hiss, circling back to the cover of the rocks. His tail, scorpion-like and tense, swayed slowly as he caught his breath. The young dragon��s chest rose and fell heavily; the strain of the battle was evident. This was its first real fight, and both it and Aemon were physically and mentally drained.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Seasmoke cried out in pain onest time, narrowly avoiding a bolt of lightning as it limped away in the direction from which it hade. The Pale Wild Dragon was gone, retreating into the storm. Seasmoke, too, was leaving.


    Time passed slowly...


    Aemon and Trickster remained hidden among the rocks, watching as Seasmoke��s pale silver form gradually faded into the distance.


    ��Are they all gone?�� Aemon whispered, his spirit still on edge as his purple eyes scanned the darkening sky for any sign of the pale beast.


    His heart raced, his senses alert. His purple eyes, wide and searching, asionally narrowed to vertical slits in the rain. Despite the downpour, his throat felt parched, and his skin was flushed with heat, abination of exhaustion and the lingering tension of battle.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Trickster let out a soft roar, and for the first time, the tip of its tail��previously twitching with tension��dropped naturally. Aemon nced back, finally allowing himself to rx.


    "Great... Let''s go too," he whispered, the relief clear in his voice.


    The dragon''s tail, sensitive to the slightest vibrations in the air, could detect any hidden presence. Anything invisible to the naked eye wouldn��t escape its senses.


    Trickster cautiously poked its head out, scanning the area for danger. Once certain it was safe, the young dragon leapt into the sky, chasing after the light silver form of Seasmoke. Aemon didn��t stop him, gulping down rainwater to quench his parched throat.


    Tarth was closer now��closer than King��s Landing or Stonehelm. Seasmoke was just ahead, and the thought of safety spurred them forward. Trickster wove nimbly through the dark clouds, evading the booming thunder and heavy rain as they flew.


    The flush on Aemon''s cheeks began to fade, and his head swayed with exhaustion. His vision blurred.


    ��I feel dizzy,�� he muttered, reaching instinctively for the ne around his neck and the Truefyre sword at his waist. These treasures were precious��he couldn��t afford to lose them.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    After a while, Trickster broke free of the dark clouds, emerging into a sky gradually clearing. The first rays of dawn touched the horizon, casting a soft light over both man and dragon.


    "It��s dawn, Trickster," Aemon murmured, closing his eyes as he gently stroked the dragon��s scales. Trickster began to slow, its scorpion-like tail swayingzily in the peaceful morning light.


    <em>Hum...</em>


    Suddenly, Trickster��s tail snapped to attention, twitching violently and pointing straight down toward the nket of clouds below. The dragon��s pupils contracted, and it let out a panicked roar.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    Without warning, the pale, bloodied muzzle of the wild dragon burst through the clouds, slicing through the air like a sword. It lunged straight at Trickster with terrifying speed, jaws closing with a deafening <em>crash</em>.


    <em>Crack!</em>


    Aemon felt his body lurch violently as a foul gust of wind hit him, followed by the sickening sound of bones snapping. Before he could react, everything tilted, and he found himself falling��weightlessly.


    ��Trickster?�� Aemon called, his voice dazed, as confusion clouded his mind. He blinked, trying to make sense of the sight before him.


    He was still in the saddle, falling helplessly. Above him, Trickster��s head grew smaller and smaller in the distance, the dragon��ske-colored eyes locked onto him��silent, unblinking.


    <em>What?</em>


    Aemon��s heart raced as his gaze flicked to the severed head of his dragon. The familiar dark green neck was nowhere to be seen, the head torn from its body.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The Pale Wild Dragon let out a triumphant roar as its bony, skeletal form swooped through the air. Its slender, needle-like tail flicked back and forth, almostzily.


    Aemon felt a hot sh in his throat, and a deep, wrenching sorrow swelled in his chest. ��So close,�� he whispered, his voice barely audible over the roaring wind.


    The sun continued to rise, casting light on the distant silhouette of Tarth, just a few nautical miles away.


    <em>Plop!</em>


    Darkness enveloped him as he hit the cold, unforgiving sea. The salty, briny water rushed into his nose and mouth, and everything faded to ck.


    ...


    ,


    <em>Roar...</em>


    The pale wild dragon let out a roar, its breath like steam hissing through its throat. One side of its head looked grotesque, almost skeletal, with a blood-red mouth chewing hungrily on something unseen.


    ��No! No! No!��


    On the dragon��s back��covered in jagged, bony spines��a half-charred figurey crumpled against an iron te. Its one remaining purple eye was wide with horror, wailing in anguish. The iron te was tangled in frayed, vine-like ropes, many of which had snapped and dangled uselessly in the air.


    The half-burnt figure, its body seared ck,y helplessly on its side, a witness to the massacre. As it watched the dark green dragon with the long tail fall helplessly into the sea, it let out a mournful, broken roar��a sound of deep, despairing grief.


    That had been s dragon of House Berys.


    The only dragon capable of navigating through the eye of a storm. A name tied forever to the winds and waves, now extinguished in a single, brutal moment.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    The pale wild dragon''s nostrils red as it heard the pitiful murmuring from its back. Without hesitation, it spat out a st of pale, ghostly dragonfire. The sickly mes hissed through the air, silencing the wails in an instant.


    The sky fell into an eerie quiet.


    The dragon''s jaws dripped with the sweet, metallic taste of blood, and from its back, the scent of burnt flesh lingered in the air. The young beast lowered its head, peering toward the sea below, where the wreckage of the once-proud dragon now stirred the waves intorge, crashing swells.


    <em>Hum��</em>


    A faint red glow flickered on the horizon, but the pale wild dragon ignored it. The surface of the water quickly returned to its calm, azure state, as though nothing had ever happened.


    The dragon opened its remaining right eye wide, scanning the area for any signs of life. Finding none, it let out a satisfied snort, then pped its wings and soared back toward itsir, disappearing into the thick clouds.


    ...


    A few dayster.


    Qohor, the Temple Hall.


    In the dimly lit hall, the statues of gods and goddesses stood in silent rows��except for the ck Goat, which loomedrge above the rest. The flickering light from the hearth cast eerie shadows over the room.


    Rhaegary on his back beside the roaring fire, his eyes closed, resting more deeply than he had in a long time.


    <em>Crack!</em>


    The firewood sparked, the sound echoing faintly through the vast, empty hall. It was the only noise breaking the stillness. Rhaegar slept soundly, oblivious to the seven statues of the Mother Goddess in the corner, theirpassionate eyes seemingly fixed on him.


    His eyelids twitched, and a soft voice whispered in the distance, calling to him.


    "Who''s calling me at this hour?" he mumbled groggily, his face showing irritation at being disturbed.


    He opened his eyes to find Daemon standing by the bed, nked by his twin foster daughters and Daeron. Their expressions were strange, as if they were concealing something, their emotions tightly controlled.


    Rhaegar��s gaze swept over them all before settling on Ba. "I thought you returned to Westeros," he said, surprise in his voice. "Where��s Aemon?"


    He had sent Aemon to rally the forces of the Vale, to bring back his second son and secure the management of Tyrosh and Lys. <em>Could it be thatzy boy��always careless��didn��t want to help?</em>


    ��Aemon...�� Ba''s voice cracked, her eyes brimming with tears. She could barely speak. "He..."


    Before she could finish, Daemon ced arge hand on her shoulder, gently interrupting her.


    "Leave us," he said quietly, his eyes lowered.


    The children obediently withdrew from the room, leaving Rhaegar and Daemon alone. A deep sense of foreboding settled over Rhaegar, his unease growing. If Rhaena had traveled all the way from King��s Landing, there was no reason Aemon shouldn��t havee with her.


    Daemon said nothing at first, simply standing at his nephew��s side. Then, after a long, tense silence, he ced a hand on Rhaegar''s shoulder, his lips moving as though to whisper the words that weighed so heavily on him.


    Rhaegar stared into the mes, unmoving, his mind racing, his heart bracing for what he somehow already knew.


    After what felt like an eternity, Daemon let out a soft sigh and stepped back.


    "I..." Rhaegar''s voice rasped as he turned his back to the fire, his body rigid with tension.


    Daemon met his eyes, but Rhaegar��s face betrayed no outward emotion. Instead, a cold, hollow grief, mixed with simmering rage, filled his gaze.


    The room was silent except for the crackling of the fire, but in that silence, the weight of loss hung thick in the air.

 Chapter 639: Burning Storm’s End

    Chapter 639: Burning Storm��s End


    A day and night had passed.


    King''s Landing.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    In the morning, a massive, jet-ck creature soared over ckwater Bay, casting a long shadow over the capital. Its pitch-ck wings stretched across the sky, and where they passed, the smell of ash lingered in the air. It felt as though destruction could fall at any moment, the dragon��s presence thick with suppressed fury.


    At the Red Keep, attendants scurried about in tense silence, while the guards stood at their posts, wordless and rigid.


    <em>Tap... tap... tap...</em>


    The sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, each step sharp and deliberate, as if the very floor beneath trembled in response.


    Erryk, Commander of the Kingsguard, stood vigil outside the king��s chambers. His eyes widened as the figure approached, and he hastily shouted, "Your Grace!"


    "Your Grace!" echoed the Maesters, nobles, and ministers gathered at the entrance. They bowed their heads and curtsied in a constrained, uneasy manner.<em>Creak.</em>


    Rhaegar, his face grim, pushed open the heavy door.


    ��Father...��


    Inside, two boys stood, their eyes brimming with unshed tears. Baelon and Maekar had returned as soon as they heard the news.


    Rhaegar��s gaze lingered on Baelon, whose face mirrored his own, and the familiar pang of grief struck him. Aemon had looked so much like him, almost indistinguishably so. His throat tightened, and he swallowed hard.


    "Leave us," he said quietly, his voice raw.


    It wasn��t just two boys inside the king��s chambers, and this was not the ce for their youthful grief.


    ��Father, grandfather is very ill,�� Maekar whispered, ncing toward the bed.


    Rhaegar nodded curtly. "I know." He waved them away.


    The boys shared a look before slipping out the door, leaving their father to the silence of the chamber.


    Rhaegar parted the bead curtain and stepped inside. His fathery on the sickbed, his once strong frame now frail. Surrounding him were Rhaenys, Corlys, and Hena, their expressions heavy with sorrow.


    ��Rhaegar...��


    Viserys��s face was pale, his eyes clouded with guilt. He looked at his eldest son, whose face was etched with sorrow, and tears welled in his own eyes. He had failed��he hadn��t been able to protect his grandson, and now tragedy had descended upon them.


    Rhaegar��s gaze swept the room, his emotions turbulent, but there was one absence that stung him: Rhaenyra was nowhere to be seen.


    ��Your Grace,�� Grand Maester Orwyle whispered, stepping close to Rhaegar. ��The Old King is overwhelmed with grief. Please, for his sake, restrain your emotions.��


    Rhaegar closed his eyes briefly, signaling for the Maester to leave. He was exhausted��utterly drained, inside and out. Too tired to speak, too weary to feel anything but a hollow ache.


    ��Your Grace, my deepest condolences for what transpired at Shipbreaker Bay,�� Corlys Vryon said, approaching solemnly. "House Vryon stands ready to answer your call."


    He ced a firm hand on Rhaegar''s shoulder, his expression weighed with sorrow. Corlys, too, had known the boy��had watched him grow. He had even named him after his father-inw. If fate had not been so cruel, Aemon would have been his grandson-inw.


    Rhaegar didn��t open his eyes. Silence was his only response.


    Rhaenys followed her husband��s lead, embracing her nephew. Her voice, soft andden with grief, whispered, ��The gods are cruel. They always take away those we need the most.��


    Rhaegar opened his eyes, a dark shadow flickering within them, but said nothing as she left.


    Hena approached next, her face drawn with aplex mix of emotions. Her once-beautiful features now held a hint of helplessness, her violet eyes downcast. Who could have expected a simple task to end in such a devastating loss?


    Rhaegar��s voice, hoarse and strained, broke the silence. ��Where is Rhaenyra?��


    He ran a hand through Hena��s silver hair, grief and fatigue pulling at his features. He wasn��t alone in his sorrow.


    ��She��s over there,�� Hena replied softly, her violet gaze drifting out the window, toward the distant coastline.


    ...


    The coast of the Stornds.


    A group of fishermen had gathered along the beach, shouting as they pulled at their heavys.


    "It''s a dragon wing!"


    "It really is a wing..."


    One by one, the fishermen murmured, their faces pale with fear.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Suddenly, a deep dragon roar echoed through the sky. The men looked up in terror as a yellow-jade dragon swooped down from above.


    With a thunderous <em>thud</em>, Syraxnded, sending sand and gravel flying in every direction. The powerful p of its wings stirred up a fierce wind, scattering the terrified fishermen, who fled, yelling, "Dragon!"


    A silver-d figure slipped gracefully from the dragon��s back, sliding down one of its wings. As shended, her feet faltered, and she rushed toward the tangled fishing.


    The fine mesh was soaked, and within it was a dark green dragon wing, its flesh pale from the seawater. Blood oozed faintly from the wound, tainting the sea with its sadness.


    <em>Plop!</em>


    The figure fell to her knees. Her hands tore apart the damp, revealing a red cloak, its fabric hooked onto the dragon��s limp forelimb.


    It was Aemon��s cloak.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Syrax crouched low to the ground, letting out a mournful, melodic wail that echoed across the shore. Even the great dragon couldn��t hide the grief it shared with its rider.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    Syrax��s wings spread wide, casting a shadow over the beach, and with a mighty gust, it overturned the moored fishing boats, the wind howling with sorrow.


    Rhaenyra stood nearby, her eyes red and swollen from days of fruitless searching. When she turned and saw the tall figure approaching, she sobbed, her voice a broken whisper: "The cloak... his..."


    For days and nights, she had searched for her son, and now, her heart was breaking beyond words.


    ��I know,�� Rhaegar whispered, his steps slow and careful as he closed the distance, desperate to hold her.


    "Aemon..." Rhaenyra choked, clutching the soaked red cloak to her chest. Her child��her second son. The pain was too much to bear.


    Tears streamed down her face as she pressed the cloak tightly against her, trying to find any trace of his scent. But there was nothing, only the bitter smell of seawater and death.


    "Don��t be sad. They will all pay," Rhaegar said softly, his own eyes red with grief as he pulled her into his arms.


    Feeling the warmth of his body, Rhaenyra''s icy hands and feet slowly began to thaw. Her mind, numb with despair, finally began to register something beyond mes and death.


    She buried her head in his chest, sobbing quietly, her lips trembling as she whispered, ��My child...is gone!��


    ��I know,�� Rhaegar murmured, resting his chin on her tear-streaked neck. His voice, firm and steady, was filled with both sorrow and resolve. ��He was my child too.��


    Then, with a slow, deliberate turn of his head, Rhaegar��s gaze settled on the tall castle looming in the distance along the shore.


    ...


    Night fell.


    Dark clouds nketed the sky, obscuring even the faintest trace of starlight.


    Storm''s End, Great Hall.


    ��Your Grace, I am so terribly sorry about the ident. The fishermen have recovered... something.�� Maris, dressed in a ck gown, descended nervously from the throne.


    <em>Tick... tock...</em>


    A single drop of water fell from a crack in the great hall''s door, a lingering remnant of the heavy rains that had battered the Stornds days before.


    ��Your Grace...�� Maris''s voice wavered with sorrow, her eyes swollen and red, like two bruised walnuts.


    But the hall remained eerily silent.


    Rhaegar stood alone, unmoving. He quietly studied the ancient castle, its stone walls weathered by countless storms. His eyes drifted east, then west, taking in every corner, as though he were memorizing the ce where so much had gone wrong.


    He showed no emotion��no rage, no sorrow��only the quiet, unnerving calm of a man who had lost too much.


    Maris, struggling for words, could feel her fear tightening around her. She cleared her throat, summoning her courage. ��Your Grace, I... I never meant����


    Her words were cut short by a dismissive wave of his hand.


    She fell silent, gazing at him with pleading eyes.


    ��Lady,�� Rhaegar asked, his voice low and steady, ��was it in this castle that my son was driven away?��


    ��No, no!�� Maris stammered, startled by his sudden words. Panic gripped her. ��It wasn��t me! I never drove him away, I swear!��


    Rhaegar didn��t acknowledge her denial. His eyes remained fixed on the ancient stone walls. ��My son is gone, and my family remains fractured,�� he said, his voice hollow.


    ��Your Grace, please!�� Maris dropped to her knees, her body trembling as tears streamed down her face. ��It wasn��t me... I swear, I never meant to...��


    ��That��s not important,�� Rhaegar murmured, casting a brief, detached nce at her. ��I only hope your family is reunited.��


    With those words, he turned and strode toward the castle gates, ignoring her desperate pleas.


    <em>Crack!</em>


    Lightning shed across the sky as he stepped outside, illuminating the dark clouds that now churned ominously, promising yet another storm.


    The guards nked the entrance, their faces drawn and pale, their heads lowered in uneasy silence, trying to make themselves invisible.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    A deep, bone-rattling roar echoed across the sky, as though the heavens themselves had been torn open. The guards dared to look up.


    Beyond the towering walls of Storm''s End, a massive ck dragon stood menacingly, its thick neck looming over the castle''s tallest tower. Its glowing green eyes, filled with a sinister and untamed fury, burned through the darkness.


    The creature radiated an unmistakable aura of destruction, a reflection of its rider''s suppressed rage and grief.


    Without hesitation, Rhaegar mounted the dragon��s back. The great beast spread its wings, and with a powerful leap, itunched into the stormy sky.


    ...


    The beach by day was cold, but at night, it was deste.


    <em>Patter... patter...</em>


    The rain fell steadily, turning the golden sand into thick, churning mud. A ck dragon stood on the shore, its menacing head angled toward Storm''s End, sharp fangs grinding together as though anticipating violence.


    Rhaegar stood before the dragon, his purple eyes fixed on the ghostly green mes that illuminated the distant night sky. The air was thick with rain, but beneath the steady downpour, the faint sound of something copsing reached his ears, mingling with the distant wails of despair.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    A gust of wind swept across the beach, carrying with it the acrid smell of goat and dragon.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Sheepstealernded heavily on the shore, its shriveled, battle-worn head looking even more grotesque beneath the rain, its scales slick with moisture.


    ��Brother,��


    Aemond leaped from Sheepstealer��s back, running toward the shore while his eye remained fixed on Storm��s End, now consumed by a sea of green mes. The eerie fire clung to stone and iron, burning relentlessly, even as the rain fell in sheets. A ghostly mist rose from the wet mes, turning the scene into a surreal nightmare, the sound of rain bing a tragic soundtrack to the destruction.


    ��You��re here,�� Rhaegar said, his voice barely above a whisper. His head tilted slightly, unsurprised by his brother��s arrival.


    ��You burned Storm��s End!?�� Aemond��s voice trembled with disbelief. He could hardly believe what he was witnessing��the seat of House Baratheon, reduced to mes. Maris, Elenda, and Floris��all inside.


    ��I thought you wouldn��t dare show your face,�� Rhaegar replied, his eyes narrowing as he looked Aemond over with cold disdain. ��Everyone involved in my son��s death will pay.��


    His voice dripped with venom. If that foolish woman hadn��t driven Aemon away, none of this would have happened. What good was a marriage alliance to a lord��s family when it couldn��t even protect his blood?


    Aemond��s eye narrowed, his chest tightening as he struggled to find his voice. ��This has nothing to do with me,�� he said quietly. ��I didn��t know my nephew was passing through here.��


    He had watched Aemon grow up, the boy always trailing after him with bright, admiring eyes. Even though Aemond had chosen to back his sister��s im, he had never meant harm to his own family.


    ��I know,�� Rhaegar said tly, his tone as cold as it had been all night. ��Otherwise, you wouldn��t be standing here.��


    Aemond exhaled, relieved. He took a cautious step forward, trying to bridge the gap between them. The argument with Maris��her threats, her obsession��had driven him away from Storm��s End that night. He��d gone to Stonehelm to escape. If only he��d stayed...


    <em>Bang!</em>


    Rhaegar��s hand shot out, seizing Aemond by the hair, and with brutal force, mmed their foreheads together. His expression darkened, anger twisting his features. ��Where were you that night?�� he demanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl. ��Do you know my son searched everywhere for you?��


    Aemond winced, his vision swimming from the impact. ��Brother, we should be focusing on vengeance,�� he said, his voice strained, his one eye burning with guilt. ��The war isn��t over!��


    Rhaegar��s fury didn��t abate. ��My son sought you out before he was killed, and where were you? You failed me��you failed him.�� His voice was sharp, edged with both rage and pain. If Aemond hadn��t stirred up trouble at Storm��s End, a child wouldn��t have been forced to travel through that storm.


    ��I��ll be the vanguard,�� Aemond nearly shouted, desperate to make amends. ��I��ll avenge our nephew! Storm��s End will burn, and so will the Iron Inds and the Basilisk Isles.��


    ��Remember your words,�� Rhaegar spat, releasing his brother��s hair with disgust. ��Now go to where you belong.��


    Aemond stumbled back, his expression cold as he turned and walked toward Sheepstealer, who waited in the rain, its shriveled wings twitching.


    <em>Roar?</em>


    The dragon let out a low growl as Aemond mounted, and within moments, they soared into the stormy sky, disappearing into the dark clouds above.


    Once again, Rhaegar stood alone on the rain-soaked beach, the dragon by his side his onlypanion. He remained silent, the weight of loss pressing heavily on him. Reaching into his cloak, he pulled out a dragon��s horn, ck as the night around him. Its surface was etched with dragon runes, and as he stared, one of the green runes began to fade.


    ��Aemon... are you still alive?�� Rhaegar whispered, his heart tightening painfully.


    If his son lived, he would find him. If Aemon was dead, he would bring back his body. The Stornds would soon be part of the Crownds, and when they were, he would send every man he had to search.

 Chapter 640: Seasmoke Finds Its Rider

    Chapter 640: Seasmoke Finds Its Rider


    The next day.


    King��s Landing, the Red Keep.


    <em>Caw, caw, caw...</em>


    A dense flock of ravens took flight, ck wings cutting through the pale morning sky. One by one, they soared from the Red Keep, carrying messages to every castle across the vastnd of Westeros.


    In the distance, dragons began to stir. Emerging from their Dragonpits, they took to the air, their powerful wings casting shadows over ckwater Bay as they set off on their journeys.


    At the Mud Gate, the bustling docks had fallen eerily silent. The usual flow of goods and trade came to a halt, and the sailors of the royal fleet, their faces grim, loaded cargo onto ships bound for The Gullet. The air was thick with the tension of what had been lost.


    The death of a young Prince had shaken the realm to its core.


    Not since 101 AC, when the valiant Baelon Targaryen sumbed to his sudden illness, had an heir fallen. But this��this was more than the loss of an heir. A precious dragon rider was gone.


    ...Red Keep.


    Alicent, her face etched with sorrow, gently supported her husband as they approached the door to his daughter��s chambers.


    <em>Knock, knock.</em>


    ��Rhaenyra,�� Viserys called out, his breathbored, ��my child, are you all right?��


    Rhaenyra had returned the night before and had locked herself inside ever since, refusing to eat, drink, or even bathe.


    Viserys understood the weight of such loss��he had buried too many of his own children before they were old enough to understand the world.


    ��I��m fine, Father,�� came the reply.


    Rhaenyra��s voice was unsettlingly calm. Inside, she still wore yesterday��s clothes, stained and disheveled, her appearance as bleak as her tone.


    Viserys felt his heart sink. ��Aemon... he was just a boy. But this storm will pass.��


    He had been a good child, perhaps the dearest of all his grandchildren. Aemon loved nothing more than listening to the Old King��s stories, recited over and over, and poring through history books at his side. <em>By the Seven,</em> Viserys thought bitterly, <em>he shouldn''t have had to suffer like this.</em>


    Rhaenyra nced briefly at her father, then turned back to the firece, quietly polishing her sword��<em>The Realm��s Delight</em>. The rhythmic sound of steel on cloth filled the air.


    No one could feel the weight of it more than her. Aemon had been the one she sent out. A decision she had made. The child she had loved and lost.


    ��Rhaegar has already set out,�� Viserys said softly, limping forward, his hand outstretched to take hers.


    ��I know.�� Rhaenyra sidestepped, avoiding his touch. With a fluid motion, she slid the sword back into its sheath and murmured, ��It will be all right.��


    Viserys�� hand froze mid-air, the pity in his eyes unmistakable. She wasn��t all right. She was anything but.


    ��Rhaenyra, you should eat something. And bathe,�� Alicent spoke up, her voice colder than intended, but she could not suppress the words. She had watched this scene unfold, and though her heart ached, her own children were alive and safe. She hadn��t suffered the same devastation.


    ��Yes, you��re right,�� Rhaenyra replied, biting her lip as if holding something back. She turned abruptly toward the door. ��I still have children. I need to check on Visenya and Aegor.��


    She couldn��t stay a moment longer��if she did, the tears woulde.


    <em>Bang!</em>


    The door mmed shut behind her, the sound reverberating like a blow to Viserys�� heart.


    Viserys stood motionless, distraught, his hand still outstretched as if trying to reach her. Alicent stepped closer, watching him with a mix of emotions, gently resting her hand on his arm, trying to steady his uneven breathing.


    ...


    Driftmark, Hull.


    <em>Boom.</em>


    A massive jet-ck dragon soared over the ind, followed closely by arge green one and a pale blue. Below, the harbor was filled with ships bearing the blue seahorse banners, their decks packed tightly together.


    Corlys Vryon strolled through the bustling port, his eyes scanning the fleet. His heart felt heavy.


    "Corlys,e!" Rhaenys called out.


    Dressed in ck dragonrider��s leathers, she strode toward him, pulling off her gloves as she approached a wooden shelf. Corlys turned, surprised by her presence.


    "You should be in King��s Landing, keeping the Queenpany," he remarked.


    "I went," Rhaenys said, a hint of emotion in her voice as she leaned against the shelf. "But not every woman needsforting. The cruelty of fate is in for all to see."


    "Then it is especially cruel to you and me," Corlys sighed, his weariness seeping into his words. He, too, felt the sting of loss deeply. His son and daughter were long gone, neither taken by natural causes, and he, now an old man with white hair, was left to mourn them both.


    "But you and I have done nothing wrong," Rhaenys��s eyes shed with anger. "Last night, there was a fire at Storm��s End. Lady Elenda, along with Maris, Floris, and hundreds of others... none survived."


    Her voice trembled as she spoke of her mother��s ancestral home, now reduced to ash. Storm��s End, a ce that once held so many memories, was gone��consumed by mes.


    Corlys frowned but said nothing. Aemon��s treatment at Storm��s End would enrage anyone, and though Lady Maris had deserved punishment for her actions, the destruction of Storm��s End seemed too far-reaching.


    "That��s too much," he muttered, then asked, "Are there any direct heirs left in House Baratheon?"


    He recalled there was a daughter married into another house��the third of the four Storms.


    "Do you think anyone burning with that kind of rage would leave behind an heir?" Rhaenys said bitterly, her voice tight with anger. "The King has decreed that House Baratheon will be stripped of its titles, and that a Prince��s Pce will be built on the ruins of Storm��s End, in memory of his son."


    "He means to rece the Lords of the Realm?" Corlys��s face turned pale. The very idea chilled him.


    The power structure of Westeros had remained unchanged for centuries, not since the Conqueror unified the Six Kingdoms. Even then, Aegon the Conqueror had retained the feudal lords, only recing kings with lords. The thought of directly abolishing a noble house, incorporating itsnds into the Crownds��it would be a seismic shift.


    Loyalty to a lord was one thing; loyalty to a king, another entirely. The erasure of House Baratheon and the construction of a pce on Storm��s End��s ruins would send shockwaves through the noble houses of Westeros.


    Rhaenys��s voice was filled with sadness. ��Dalton Greyjoy was foolish enough to pull the trigger, bing the unfortunate example.��


    Everyone knew Lady Maris��s arrogance had led to this, yet none dared speak of it openly.


    "Power is like the sea," Corlys said, his tone somber. "Its waves are ever-changing. We should stay clear of this. It��s better to prepare for the next war."


    ��Yes... another war,�� Rhaenys echoed, shaking her head with a hollowugh. There was no humor in it. Her son had died on the battlefield at Rainwood, and her daughter had perished on the battlefield of childbirth. It seemed as though their entire lives had been spent waging wars of one kind or another.


    "Come on, Rhaenys," Corlys said softly, his worry clear as he reached out to stroke her face. "Our children are gone, but we still have to keep going."


    "You��re right," Rhaenys sighed, leaning into his touch. For a moment, they stood there, finding sce in each other��s presence��the onlyfort they had left as an old, battle-worn couple.


    ...


    Narrow Sea, Tarth Ind.


    A lush, vibrant ind nestled near Shipbreaker Bay, just across the sea from Storm��s End. Known as the Sapphire Isle, its coastline shimmered with azure waters, giving the ce a serene, almost dreamlike quality.


    In the early morning, the pier was already bustling with life. Fishermen and fishmongers were hard at work, selling their fresh catch to eager buyers. The air was filled with the sounds of voices bartering, the scent of salt and sea heavy in the breeze.


    "Bastard, give me a big fish!" a tall man called out mockingly as he approached one of the stalls, his voice dripping with humor.


    Laughter rippled through the nearby crowd as they watched, but the fishmonger remained unfazed.


    "Coming, just a moment," he replied, his tone kind and steady. He took the jibe in stride, as if used to such remarks.


    With practiced hands, the fishmonger quickly gutted arge fish, scales glistening in the morning light. His knife shed as he cleaned the fish with skill and precision, then wiped the de on his apron. Tying the fish by the mouth with string, he handed it to the tall man.


    "Six copper stars, please," he said with a chuckle, running his hand over the silver stubble on his chin.


    The tall man, momentarily fascinated by the fishmonger��s swift knife work, couldn��t help but exim, "Your knife is fast��doesn��t suit a bastard."


    With a grin, he dropped a handful of copper stars onto the cutting board and hurried away with his prize, the crowd dispersing as the morning routine continued.


    The fishmonger, his silver-blond hair and dark skin setting him apart, returned to his work. Despite his striking appearance, no one knew the truth of his parentage��he bore the name Storm, the surname given to bastards of the Stornds, and no one ever questioned it.


    Nearby, a conversation caught his ear.


    "Did you hear? A Prince riding a dragon died!" one man said, his voice low but urgent.


    "Is that true?" another asked, clearly skeptical.


    "Of course it��s true. They even pulled the dragon��s wing from the sea."


    The fishmonger paused, his hands slowing as he leaned in to eavesdrop. The quayside was calm, but the idle chatter had taken a darker turn.


    ��I also heard a dragon fell on the ind��right in the courtyard of the Lord��s castle,�� someone added, fueling the growing rumors.


    "My cousin��s a herdsman. He said they delivered goats to the castle this morning��must be feeding the beast," another voice chimed in.


    The story spiraled further, with someone suggesting the Lord himself nned to tame the dragon and take to the skies.


    The fishmonger, his interest waning, shook his head. It was all too far-fetched. Disappointed by the exaggerations, he returned to chopping the fish with steady hands.


    He couldn��t sell the fish heads��those were saved for his wife and children, a humble meal after a long day at the docks.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    A pale silver dragon suddenly soared into the sky from a hidden corner of the ind, its screech piercing the serene blue heavens.


    "Dragon!" someone at the wharf shouted, and in an instant, the crowd gathered, eyes wide with awe.


    In a ce like this, far from the grandeur of King��s Landing or Driftmark, the sight of a dragon was rare, something many would never witness in their entire lives.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Seasmoke let out another cry, but its flight was unsteady, one wing still badly injured. The dragon faltered in the air, its massive form struggling against the sky.


    All eyes were fixed on the dragon, mesmerized by its presence. No one noticed when the fishmonger quietly slipped away.


    ...


    Sapphire Beach.


    Seasmoke screamed as it pped its uncoordinated wings, the injury making its movements clumsy. It descended in a series of shaky falls until it finally crashed into the soft sand, sending a cloud of gravel and dust into the air.


    The dragony there for a long moment, struggling to rise. Eventually, it rolled over, pushing itself out of the sand and shaking its massive body free of debris.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    The cry was weaker now, filled with pain. Seasmoke��s amber eyes scanned the forest on the far side of the beach. It seemed drawn toward it, as though knowing it needed to find shelter and heal its wounds.


    Then, something familiar caught its eye.


    A figure appeared from the trees, someone both known and strange.


    <em>Roar!?</em>


    Seasmoke tensed, crouching low, its amber pupils widening in suspicion. The dragon prepared to strike, muscles coiled, nostrils ring.


    The figure stopped, frozen in ce, staring at the dragon in disbelief.


    One second... two seconds...


    For several long moments, the man and the dragon stared at each other, neither moving. The air itself seemed to still, the world holding its breath.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    Seasmoke blinked first, its tense form rxing. Slowly, it crouched down, no longer threatened.


    <em>Tap, tap...</em>


    Hesitant, the figure removed a fish-stained apron and took slow, deliberate steps toward the dragon, his eyes fixed on the familiar light silver scales. The smell of the dragon��strong and earthy��filled his nostrils, flooding him with memories.


    In that instant, Laenor��s eyes widened, and he gasped, "Seasmoke!"


    As soon as the words left his lips, something deep within him stirred. Ignoring everything else, he rushed toward the dragon, arms outstretched.


    It all came rushing back.


    Betrayed by someone he loved, stabbed in the back, cast into the ocean, and washed ashore on Tarth. From nothing, he had built a new life, bing a humble fishmonger. But now, with the sight of Seasmoke, the memories returned with vivid rity.


    He remembered it all.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Seasmoke��s pupils brightened at the sound of that familiar voice. The dragon let out a joyous cry and lunged forward, closing the distance between them.


    "You found me, Seasmoke!" Laenor cried, tears streaming down his face. He threw himself at the dragon��s feet, rubbing its rough jaw, feeling the familiar warmth beneath his palms. The texture was just as he remembered��like the stones he had once used to sharpen his sword.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Seasmoke released a long, triumphant cry, its body copsing onto the sand, enveloping its long-lost rider in its protective shadow.


    In that moment, a roar of pure joy echoed across the ind.


    No one knew that the unremarkable fishmonger from Tarth had just be a noble dragon rider once more.

 Chapter 641: The Sorrows of the Iron Islands

    Chapter 641: The Sorrows of the Iron Inds


    Sunspear


    On a sunny afternoon, a flock of dragons circled above the Free Cities.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal, with its fierce green eyes, stood alone and imposing on the riverbank outside Sunspear, its aura like that of a demonic god. Above, several dragons of different colors scattered across the sky��a moss-colored elder, a dark green Vhagar, and a light blue Dreamfyre. On the high walls of Sunspear, two young dragons perched like vignt gargoyles. One was ck and red, the other pale gray.


    With all six dragons in the air, the city below felt eerily empty. The streets were silent, the people frozen in fear. The memory of the Dragon��s Wroth from just a few years prior still haunted them��the chaos of three dragons locked in a deadly melee.


    But a closer look revealed the grim truth. Sunspear��s walls were riddled with arrows, and the road leading to the Greenblood River was caked with dried blood.


    ...


    By the riverbank, Rhaegar surveyed the scene. The once bustling docks had been reduced to scorched ruins, signs of destruction everywhere.


    "Your Grace, the Ironborn didn��t even spare the boats in the river," Prince Qyle said, his voice filled with grief and anger. A bloody bandage wrapped around his forehead. "The big ships have all sailed away, and the fishing boats and goods they couldn��t loot have been burned.""After the Ironborn looted the ce, where did they go?" Rhaegar asked, narrowing his eyes, his voice cold as ice.


    ''These Ironborn never change,'' he thought bitterly. ''Always believing that might makes right, with no regard for toil.''


    "We��ve received word from Oldtown. The Iron Inds fleet passed through the Shield Inds and has now returned to the Iron Inds," Prince Qyle quickly replied.


    The continent of Sothoryos, remote and hostile, was unsuited for the Ironborn. Its jungles and swamps, crawling with venomous creatures and poisonous mists, ensured only a sparse poption lived there.


    "The first thing King Dalton did upon his return was to muster his troops and set his sights on Lannister Harbour," Hena said, her voice measured as she recounted the news.


    She wore a blue gown, her demeanor calm. "Lord Jason has been taken captive in ver��s Bay. With him gone, Lannisport is nothing more than a defenseless prize."


    "Idiot," Rhaegar muttered under his breath. ''How could the House Lannister produce such an arrogant fool?'' Jason had risked his life for a handful of gold, trusting blindly in his advisers and family to save him.


    "Father, Oldtown and Seagard can still muster a fleet," Baelon said, his hand resting on the dragon��s w-shaped hilt of his sword. His expression was serious. "We can ride the dragons,unch a surprise attack, and coordinate with the fleet to catch the Ironborn off guard."


    The Vryon fleet, which hemanded, was stationed at Lys, always on alert, watching over the Summer Sea. Dalton��s Ironborn fleet had exploited the defense of Vntis to slip past the Stepstones and raid Sunspear. After looting their fill, they brazenly sailed back to the Iron Inds. Now, their eyes were set on Lannisport, whichy poorly defended, ready to be seized.


    Rhaegar smiled faintly and patted his eldest son��s head. "Not a bad n. We��ll do it."


    "Father, what about the Summer Sea?" Baelon asked, his eyes firm. "The Triarchy��s pirates are growing bolder by the day. We can��t leave ourselves unprepared."


    "No rush," Rhaegar said, his gaze hard and unyielding. "We��ll deal with them one by one. It��s time they learned what it means to challenge the House of the Dragonlord."


    Daemon and Aemond had already departed, while Corlys and Rhaenys led their fleet to Vntis. Once peace returned to the Seven Kingdoms, those Bastards who sought to restore their shattered realms would not escape justice.


    "Your Grace, Sunspear has suffered heavy losses," Prince Qyle began hesitantly, testing the waters before offering his suggestion. "You also mentioned wanting Prince Maekar to make contact with my sister. Do you think that will happen after the war?"


    The first part of his statement was trivial��everyone knew Dorne was impoverished. The second part, however, was crucial. Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms was aware the king had recently lost a son, a dragon rider. The marriage alliance needed to be secured swiftly.


    Rhaegar nced at him, his mind already made up regarding the Greenblood River. "The harbor will be repaired at the expense of the royal treasury."


    Prince Qyle''s eyes lit up with hope.


    But Rhaegar continued, "The royal family will also construct a Prince��s Pce on the opposite bank of the Greenblood River, in what was once the Lemonwood Forest, tomemorate Prince Aemon. The pce will be funded by taxes collected from the port."


    "Prince��s Pce?" Prince Qyle was momentarily stunned. Cautiously, he asked, "How long will the taxes be collected?"


    "Once the pce ispleted, the taxes will naturally be handed back to House Martell," Rhaegar said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "But if you''re in a hurry, you could always contribute some manpower to help speed things along."


    Qyle was dumbfounded, standing there at a loss for words. The Prince��s Pce at the ruins of Storm��s End hadn��t even begun construction��how could one rise across the Greenblood River so soon? Was it really a pce, or was this just a ploy to seize control of the docks and the taxes, a means of trampling over House Martell and humiliating them? Yet Rhaegar spoke as if it were no great imposition.


    ''A House that can barely hold onto the title of Prince,'' Qyle thought bitterly, ''a House that couldn��t even fend off the Ironborn invasion��how can it be trusted to govern Dorne?''


    The Seven Kingdoms were still too loosely bound together, and the current system was fundamentally wed. The Prince��s Pce wasn��t just a tribute; it was designed to oversee and manage regional political power. With House Baratheon gone from Storm��s End, the throne would either reward an heir or install a minister. As for Dorne, with House Martell still nominally in power, the best strategy was to reduce them to figureheads, mere mascots. Real power should reside with the Prince��s Pce, for easier control.


    Especially since, until the pce waspleted, the taxes from the Greenblood River wharf would be withheld. In less than a decade, House Martell would be reduced to third-rate nobility.


    ��Set up a puppet to appease the local nobility ording to the circumstances,�� Rhaegar muttered to himself, thinking aloud.


    Aemon��s death had forced him to rethink many things. The stubborn nobility of the Seven Kingdoms couldn��t be swayed by gentleness and diplomacy. Power and strategy were the sharp des needed to cut through their resistance. House Martell maymand the Dornish people, but the Iron Throne controlled House Martell. What happened within Dorne would not be the crown��s responsibility��it would simply manipte events behind the scenes.


    With this policy in ce, the Stornds, Westends, and even the North could see Prince Pces of their own.


    The only question was whether these regions would heed the king��smands, and whether they could withstand the fire of the dragons.


    Prince Qyle, quick-witted as ever, sensed that the situation was not in his favor.


    Hena leaned in and whispered, "Coryanne cane to King��s Landing as apanion to Princess Visenya. The royal family will take good care of her."


    "Apanion?" Prince Qyle hesitated.


    Hena pressed on, "The war will be long, and a stay in the Red Keep will give her the chance to see the Seven Kingdoms."


    As a hostage, she would also be a suitable candidate for marriage.


    Sure enough, Qyle fell silent, weighing the pros and cons of both options. Rhaegar watched him indifferently, unaffected by the prince��s deliberation.


    Marriage into another family had never crossed his mind. After Aemon��s death, his resolve to maintain Targaryen independence had only strengthened. House Targaryen, after all, was not of Westerosi blood. Daemon had left a lineage behind, as had Aegon. With Aemond, Daeron, and the next generation multiplying, the bloodline would grow, eventually spreading throughout the realm and absorbing everything within.


    ...


    Three Days Later


    The Iron Inds, Old Wyk


    A low, haunting moan echoed across the ancient ind.


    "Ooohhhh..."


    Dalton Greyjoy stood on the weathered tform of Nagga��s ribs, an ancient and sacred site, holding the great horn to his lips. His summons reverberated through the air, calling forth the captains and sailors under hismand.


    From all corners of the Iron Inds, hundreds of ships converged like a vast fishing drawn tight. More than 3,000 Ironborn gathered on the shores, armed with swords, axes, and spears, their salt-cured leather armor gleaming under the gray skies. Their faces were set in grim expressions, each man burning with deep resentment.


    Their homes had been razed to the ground, their families ughtered��old and young alike. When these men returned from their raids, they found nothing but scorched earth and charred ruins where their viges once stood.


    "Ironborn, who has gathered you here?" Dalton''s voice boomed from the highest point of the tform as he looked down at the assembled crowd.


    The grief-stricken Ironborn raised their heads to gaze at their leader, Lord Dalton Greyjoy��the man who had led them to countless raids and plunder.


    "It is I, Dalton Greyjoy!" His face was a mask of rage as he addressed them. "Someone has burned our homes, someone has murdered our women. What are we going to do about it?"


    Silence fell over the crowd. The Ironborn clenched their fists, the thrill of past plunder drowned by the pain of their loss.


    "Who burned our homes? Who killed our women?" Dalton roared, drawing his long sword in a swift, dramatic motion. "What is dead may never die!"


    The sword in his hand gleamed��a silvery-white Valyrian steel de, its surface etched with dark, star-like patterns. The edge rippled like water, sharp and deadly. Its name was <em>Nightfall,</em> and in the hands of Lord Dalton, it was soaked in blood.


    The Ironborn gazed at their leader, their eyes drawn to the infamous sword. The pain of their losses mixed with the savage instinct of their kind, and vengeance red hot in their hearts. The ruthlessness with which they had plundered the weak now fueled their hunger for retribution.


    "What is dead may never die!" Dalton��s rallying cry resounded across the shore.


    One voice echoed it, then another. Soon, the entire crowd of Ironborn, eyes red with fury and throats hoarse, shouted in unison, "What is dead may never die!"


    Dalton grinned, his face twisted with hate. "Destitute scum, follow me to plunder Lannister Harbour! Use iron to buy more houses, more women!"


    With that, he leaped from the tform, <em>Nightfall</em> gleaming in his grip. The Ironborn surged forward, jumping into the sea like a wave of fury, scrambling onto their ships, raising their sails, and preparing for war.


    On the vast, open ocean, a fleet of thousands of ships advanced, their sails full and their prows cutting through the water. Leading them was a mighty three-masted ship flying the golden Kraken banner, with a massive scorpion crossbow mounted high on the deck.


    As the ships surged forward, one of the Ironborn began to sing a looting song. His voice was soon joined by others, until the whole fleet was roaring the grim tune of pige and death.


    In their minds, Lannisport was already theirs��an offering of blood and fire, waiting to be taken.


    "Haha, the wind is just right today!" Dalton eximed, perched atop the lookout pole. His eyes gleamed with excitement at the thought of gold and ughter ahead.


    His ship, a grand vessel built in the Basilisk Isles, was manned by a crew of hardened sailors he had gathered with care. Before raiding Sunspear, they had sacked the Isle of Tears, plundering the allies of the Triarchy and even stealing a Valyrian steel sword in secret. This was the Ironborn way: no iron could not be taken by force.


    But suddenly, the wind shifted.


    "Roar..."


    A ck dragon, as dark as coal, tore through the clouds, its massive wings blotting out the sky and sea. Its fierce, predatory gaze locked onto the Ironborn fleet.


    Dalton''s face paled, and his voice rang out in urgency, "Dragon! Prepare the scorpion crossbow!"


    But even as his words carried over the wind, another roar echoed through the air. A second dragon, moss-colored and immense, appeared in the sky, its cavernous mouth opening wide as it began to gather fire.


    The Ironborn, who had been singing their looting songs moments earlier, fell silent. Fear overtook them as their faces turned ashen.


    Whoosh��


    From the sky, the Cannibal plunged downward, a ck shadow of death.


    Upon its broad back, a rider came into view, clutching a massive horn. It was Rhaegar. His eyes glinted with a fierce light as he lifted the horn to his lips and yed the <em>Dance of Blood</em>��a song not heard in years.


    The eerie, ancient melody echoed across the sea, stirring something primal in his blood. The sound vibrated through the air, even shaking the thin clouds that floated overhead.


    "Roar!"


    Vhagar, the great dragon, bellowed in rage, its mighty wings cutting through the sky like a falling star. The wound in its side only fueled its fury.


    "Roar!"


    Behind them, more dragons surged forward��Dreamfyre, Iragaxys, Grey Ghost��all charging in with the unstoppable force of wildfire sweeping across a in.


    "No... no!" Dalton stood frozen, utterly stunned, his mind nking as he forgot to give themand for the scorpion crossbow.


    The dragons had arrived in full force, a disy of power unlike anything seen even in the Battle of the Stepstones. The sky itself seemed to tremble under the weight of their wings.


    Whoosh��


    As the final note of his song faded, Rhaegar lowered the massive horn, a gleaming relic that took the strength of two men to hold, and calmly uttered a single word:


    "Dracarys."

 Chapter 642: The Beheading of Lord Dalton

    Chapter 642: The Beheading of Lord Dalton


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal surged ahead, and dark green dragonfire poured from its jaws like a flood, crashing onto the lead sea monster ship.


    "Boom..."


    The sound was like thunder as the three masts shattered in unison. Maggots of green fire crawled over every iron surface. Amidst the wailing, a bright me was kindled on the sea.


    "Damn it, run!" Dalton shouted, rolling onto the deck. As he tried to find his footing, he realized there was nowhere safe tond. The pervasive green fire clung to his armor.


    "Ahhh..."


    The intense heat cooked his flesh, and his exposed arm split open instantly. Dalton''s eyes went bloodshot as he yanked out Nightfall, his prized sword, and severed his left arm.


    With a sickening sizzle, blood sttered as the burning armor fell away.


    "Roar..."Uragax soared into the sky, spewing torrents of green dragonfire. Its broad, milky-yellow wings swept through the chilling winds. The surrounding ships were defenseless, exploding into pieces and sinking into the sea as mes consumed them.


    "Damn it, I''m Lord Dalton!" he screamed furiously, cutting down a fleeing sailor who had caught fire.


    But it was toote��his ship was engulfed in mes, thick ck smoke rising into the sky.


    Plop!


    Horrified, Dalton realized the heat had singed one of his ears. Panic took over, and he threw himself into the sea, seeking refuge in its cool depths. The Ironborn could only find fleeting safety in the water.


    "Leave none alive!"


    Rhaegar��s voice rang out, cold and merciless. The Cannibal''s green, slitted eyes gleamed with solemn intent as it growled, diving to crush several small boats with its hind legs.


    "Dracarys!"


    Hena rode Dreamfyre into the fray, her voice echoing as pale blue mes spread across the azure waters. It had been a long time since she''d ridden a dragon into battle, and her inexperience showed as she unleashed too much force. Dreamfyre swooped eagerly, its blue mes spilling like clouds, engulfing the Ironborn who had jumped into the sea, trying to escape.


    Iragaxys and Grey Ghost, smaller but no less deadly, wove between the threerger dragons, their dark dragonfire and zing fireballs merging in a symphony of destruction.


    "Where are the men?" Rhaegar scanned the battlefield from above, searching for Dalton, the Red Kraken who had inherited the Iron Inds. The Iron Inds must be destroyed, and every member of House Greyjoy executed by fire.


    Thud!


    A heavy drumbeat reverberated from the horizon. A well-equipped fleet emerged, sails flying the sigils of the lion, the green tower, and the purple grapes. It was a coalition of the Westends, the Reach, and the houses of Lannister, Hightower, and Redwyne.


    Rhaegar nced at the approaching fleet and shouted to his eldest son, who was circling on his own dragon, "Burn all the ships and wait for me to return!"


    "Roar..."


    Before Baelon could respond, the telepathic Cannibal lunged forward, heading straight for the Iron Inds.


    ...


    Old Wyk.


    Dalton swam all the way back to Pyke, dragging himself to the small boat he had hidden on the beach earlier. Exhausted but determined, he rowed toward his destination: Old Wyk.


    "Ho-ho..."


    He gasped for breath as he crawled onto the shore, copsing in the rolling tide. His body burned with exhaustion, but the cool waves provided some relief. Yet the salt in the water stung his torn skin, sending jolts of unbearable pain through his body.


    "Aagh! Damn the dragons!"


    With seawater filling his remaining ear, Dalton��s will to survive forced him to crawl up the beach. If he didn��t escape soon, he knew death would catch up to him.


    Under the Nagga Terrace on Old Wyky a secret passage where he had stashed gold and jewels looted over the years. With the Iron Inds in ruins, he had to secure the treasure.


    <em>Run, I must run,</em> he thought, his eyes bloodshot as he staggered up the hill. Once he reached Braavos, he would deposit the gold in the Iron Bank and hire a new band of cutthroats to rebuild his life.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    A fierce wind swept over the ind, and a ck dragon, as massive as a mountain, blocked out the sun. Its shadow engulfed Old Wyk.


    Rhaegar, seated upon the beast, looked down from above, seeing nothing but the barren ind below. The most striking feature was the Nagga��s towering ribs, standing tall on the hill like relics of a long-forgotten era.


    "Does the skeleton of a sea dragon count as a relic?" Rhaegar muttered, tapping the dragon��s back to signal his descent.


    Legends spoke of a great sea dragon that once roamed Westeros��s shores, sorge it could swallow the sun and feed on krakens and sea beasts. Its maw was said to be wide enough to engulf an entire ind. The Grey King of the Iron Inds had fought this beast for three days and nights, beheading it with his sword. The Nagga��s 44 ribs were used as pirs for his pce, its skull fashioned into a throne, and its towering teeth embedded in his crown.


    They said the blood of the Nagga could keep a me burning forever, but after the Grey King��s death, the Drowned God extinguished thest embers of that fire.


    "What a show. Those ribs are no bigger than Cannibal��s," Rhaegar sneered as he surveyed the scene. The Nagga��s remains paled inparison to the dragon bones housed in the crypts of the Red Keep��Balerion��s skull alone could contain a mammoth, and his teeth towered higher than these relics.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The Cannibal crashed to the ground, its massive hind legs smashing through several of the Nagga��s ribs, scattering grey bone fragments across the rocky earth. Rhaegar leapt from the dragon��s back, cautiously approaching the high tform of the Nagga.


    Standing beside the shattered remains, hepared the ribs to the Cannibal��s body, which wasrger and more fearsome. The Nagga��s bones were tall, like the walls of a castle, but even as the Cannibal crouched low, its broad chest was parallel to the highest point of the ribs, its monstrous head looming far above them.


    "Where are you!?" Rhaegar shouted, drawing ckfyre from his waist. His voice echoed across the ind,ced with fury. "Dalton,e out here!"


    <em>Are you not the so-called ''Red Kraken''?</em> he thought. <em>Covered in blood, you��ve killed countless men... face me and see who the true warrior is!</em>


    "Dalton, don��t be a coward! Your fleet perished because of you!"


    Rhaegar drove his sword into the ground, his long, noble silver-and-gold hair flowing in the wind. It had been years since he had taken up his sword in battle, long enough for people to forget the power of his martial skill. A petty Greyjoy dared to rebel?


    Yet no response came from Dalton. The only sound was the whisper of the wind and the crash of the sea against the shore.


    Suddenly, a faint voice echoed in Rhaegar��s ear, the long-lost system message he had been waiting for:


    "This exploration mission is now open. The target is the skeleton of the sea dragon Nagga."


    Rhaegar��s lips curled into a grin as he looked at the Nagga��s ribs, towering like the fingers of a giant hand. Forty-four tall ribs stood before him, resembling the walls of a grand pce. Now, the disy seemed more impressive than before.


    Meanwhile, in the depths below...


    Dalton, hidden in the secret passage beneath the Nagga��s high tform, flinched as the ground above trembled. He heard the clear voice of a young man reverberating across the ind, his blood running cold.


    "Only an idiot would fight you," Dalton muttered through gritted teeth as he navigated the dark, narrow passage.


    Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knew of the King on the Iron Throne, once called the "Young Dragonlord" before his coronation. He hade of age wielding both power and fear, and now ruled with a ck dragon��its green eyes and massive bodyrger than several shipsbined. Who in their right mind would challenge him to a one-on-one fight?


    Outside, smoke from the burning sea drifted over Old Wyk.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal sniffed the scent of charred flesh and let out a deep, resonant howl as it crouched low to the ground. One of its colossal wings pped forward, and its short, powerful forelimbs crushed a pile of stones, revealing the entrance to the secret passage beneath the rubble.


    "Huh?"


    Rhaegar, about to ignite a ss candle to scout the area, paused and chuckled. He leapt into the entrance without hesitation.


    <em>So it was hidden here.</em>


    If not for the Cannibal��s hunger, it would have taken him far longer to find it.


    <em>Crack!</em>


    A bone snapped underfoot as hended, and the stench of mold and rot rushed up to meet him. Rhaegar held his breath for a moment, then shifted. Scales sprouted along his skin, horns formed on his forehead, and his purple eyes transformed into sharp, vertical pupils. The dim tunnel brightened under his draconic vision.


    <em>Dragons see in the dark. So do their descendants.</em>


    "Dalton, where are you?"


    Rhaegar��s smile was yful as he followed the disordered footprints in the dust. This was just a game of cat and mouse now, and Dalton was already cornered. Rhaegar had lost a son��everyone associated with that loss would pay dearly.


    As he adjusted to the confines of the passage, Rhaegar��s movements became more agile, his speed increasing. The chase soon brought them to a narrow corner, not far from the exit.


    "Dalton, die!"


    Rhaegar''s cold expression darkened further as wisps of ck me flickered around him. He lunged forward, ckfyre in hand, its dark de gleaming in the faint light.


    Dalton stumbled backward, terror in his eyes. "Don��te any closer! There are traps everywhere!"


    "Cut the crap," Rhaegar snarled. His ck robe billowed as the ground erupted in a wave of ck fire, sealing the exit. mes leapt toward Dalton, tongues of fire reaching out like serpents.


    "You��re the king... fine! I��ll fight you to the death!"


    Dalton had no choice. His back was against the wall, and the only thing left was to fight. He gripped Nightfall with his one good hand and braced himself.


    A jet of ck fire shot forward, wrapping itself around Dalton��s waist. His blistered skin crackled under the intense heat, the mes binding him in ce.


    Before he could react, another stream of fireshed out, this time coiling around his right arm, the one holding his sword. His flesh sizzled and charred, and as the fire consumed him, his fingers crumbled, reduced to white bone.


    "Are you even worthy to fight me?" Rhaegar sneered, stepping forward.


    As the King of the Iron Throne and the King of the Iron Inds faced each other, the narrow passage filled with dark mes, devouring every flicker of light.


    "You know magic!?" Dalton gasped, his jaw dropping as cold sweat trickled down his face.


    "I''m not wasting my breath exining it to you. You��re not worthy of hearing the answer," Rhaegar replied, his voiceced with contempt. He looked down at the tall Ironborn king, his hand gripping ckfyre as the de rested against Dalton''s neck. "King Dalton, your reign ends here."


    With a swift pull of his arm, the sword shed with dark light. Dalton��s charred, disfigured head rolled to the ground as his headless body swayed, then crumpled. Before it could hit the floor, the dark mes surged up, consuming the remains in an instant.


    Rhaegar��s expression remained cold as he nudged Nightfall��Dalton��s fallen Valyrian steel sword��with the tip of his boot. He casually twirled it in the air, performing an elegant sword dance.


    "The exploration mission is now open. The target is the Valyrian steel sword, <em>Nightfall,</em>" the system prompt chimed, as sweet as the sound of a harp.


    "There��s also a pleasant surprise," Rhaegar murmured, eyeing the sword with renewed interest. Despite Dalton��s fate, the sword in his hands showed a glimpse of the Red Kraken��s worth. Valyrian steel swords were rare treasures, and with every one collected, the world had one fewer.


    Before the tragedy, Aemon had carried <em>Truefyre,</em> but he had perished, and the sword was lost with him.


    "This sword has character," Rhaegar remarked, running his fingers along the de��s dark edge. "It will make a fine gift for the children."


    He slung <em>Nightfall</em> over his back, admiring how its dark natureplemented <em>ckfyre</em> and <em>Dark Sister.</em>


    No wonder it was named <em>Nightfall</em>��it carried the weight of darkness itself.


    ...


    At nightfall, a great fire swept through the Iron Inds. The fleet of House Lannister patrolled the shores, killing any who remained. The king had decreed that not a single soul should survive in the Iron Inds. Whether Ironborn, sellsword, or hostage, all were executed. From this day forward, the Iron Inds would bepletely depopted of humans.


    At Nagga��s Hill, Old Wyk, Rhaegar leaned against one of the towering ribs of the ancient sea dragon��s skeleton.


    Hena and Baelon stood on either side of him, nestled in his broad embrace. The three of them gazed out into the sea breeze, their eyes half-closed, pretending to rest.


    The Cannibal had disappeared, likely off foraging for food. Nearby, Dreamfyre and Uragax slithered on the ground, watchful, guarding their family.


    As the night deepened, a voice rang out, breaking Rhaegar��s brief moment of rest.


    "This exploration isplete. Please collect the lost treasure."


    Rhaegar��s eyes snapped open as the system panel appeared before him.


    [Skeleton of the Sea Dragon Nagga]


    Exploration progress: 100%


    [Valyrian Steel Sword �C <em>Nightfall</em>]


    Exploration progress: 100%


    "That was fast," Rhaegar muttered, already guessing the quality of the relics.


    Two purple halos materialized at his feet, shimmering before they burst into tiny points of light when he gently touched them.


    <em>Pop.</em>


    "Relic sessfully retrieved, initiating analysis��"


    "Analysisplete. Judged to be an epic relic: Nagga��s Tear."


    "�� Judged to be an epic relic: Nightfall Descent."

 Chapter 643: The Fallen Prince Who Tends Sheep

    Chapter 643: The Fallen Prince Who Tends Sheep


    Rhaegar froze for a moment as two objects materialized in his hands. One was a watery-blue eye with an amber vertical pupil, about the size of an adult��s fist. The other was a dark, irregrly shaped stone, smooth to the touch with a faintly undting surface, as if it were alive.


    He first inspected the <em>Nagga��s Eye.</em> It felt cold and slimy in his palm, leaving a thinyer of frost where he touched it. The second object, the stone, seemed to pulse slightly, its surface warm and smooth, almost like something breathing beneath the stone��s dark exterior.


    ��<em>Nightfall... Descent...</em>�� Rhaegar murmured, holding both relics up to study them. These were epic-level artifacts, each with its own strange properties.


    He summoned the system panel, his eyes scanning the cryptic prompts tied to the relics:


    <em>"Thest tear of the sea dragon Nagga, the Drowned God deprived it of its blood, thirsting for fullness."</em>


    <em>"Bloodthirsty creature, hatching eggs."</em>


    The clues aligned with the relics in his hands, and a sh of understanding crossed Rhaegar��s mind. He stood up, carefully lowering Hena and Baelon from his side before picking up <em>Nightfall,</em> whichy abandoned on the ground. Without a word, he walked toward the beach.


    "Roar..."


    Dreamfyre��s vertical pupils flicked open, watching the silver-haired figure disappear into the distance. Uragax, slumped nearby, barely stirred, its thick tail swayingzily as it snored like an old man.At the edge of the beach, bathed in moonlight, Rhaegar stopped and casually tossed the aquamarine relic��<em>Nagga��s Tear</em>��into the sea.


    <em>Plop!</em>


    Ripples spread across the water��s surface, quickly followed by the formation of a whirlpool, as if a powerful force beneath was draining the sea itself.


    "Haha, just as I thought," Rhaegar muttered, a faint smile curling his lips. His theory was confirmed: the sea dragon Nagga was long dead, its blood lost, but the seawater could awaken its lingering spirit.


    Next, he took the dark stone in one hand, and with the other, raised <em>Nightfall.</em> After a moment of hesitation, Rhaegar gritted his teeth. "Let��s give this a try."


    He shed the de across his wrist, letting bright red blood drip onto the stone.


    <em>Bang! Bang! Bang!</em>


    The stone trembled violently as soon as it absorbed the blood, its dark surface flushing with a rosy hue. Layers of the ck stone began to peel away, revealing something hidden within. The system prompt chimed:


    "Congrattions, <em>Nightfall Descent</em>has been activated. You have obtained..."


    [<em>Blood Witchcraft: Bat Worm</em>]


    <em>Level: Excellent (Blue)</em>


    <em>Function: Incubates bloodsucking creatures that sense blood connections.</em>


    <em>Comment: "A long-lost blood witchcraft, ideal forrge families to distinguish bloodlines."</em>


    The stone pulsed and cracked open, shedding its outer shell to reveal a dark, oval insect egg. It was norger than a finger, and inside the transparent casing, a small creature squirmed��neither fully insect nor bat.


    Under Rhaegar��s watchful gaze, the creature quickly broke free from its shell.


    <em>Flutter!</em>


    Tiny wings unfolded as the small creature stumbled to life, resembling a fluttering moth.


    ��What��s the use of this little thing?�� Rhaegar muttered, tilting his head curiously as he reached out to poke it.


    Suddenly, with a <em>gulp,</em> the bat worm��s tiny mouth opened wide��far wider than its size would suggest,rge enough to swallow a bowl. Its sharp teeth sank deep into Rhaegar��s finger, drawing blood.


    ��Hiss!�� Rhaegar sucked in a sharp breath as pain shot through his hand. It hurt, as if his blood was being drained. At the same moment, he felt a faint connection form between him and the small creature in his grasp.


    ��Chirp, chirp...�� The bat bug chirped happily after drinking a few drops of his blood, fluttering around its master in circles. Its tiny body was covered in dark fluff, and its pale red wings were no bigger than those of an ordinary butterfly.


    Rhaegar blinked as a flood of knowledge settled into his mind. The bat bug wasn��t a fighter; it was an auxiliary magical creature, tied to blood magic. Its primary function was to form a blood bond with its host and reproduce,ying eggs to hatch more male bat bugs. While the males couldn��t reproduce, they retained the ability to maintain a connection with the dominant female bat bugs, enablingmunication across bloodlines.


    ��In other words, once these little things startying eggs, we can give one to each of the children,�� Rhaegar muttered, his eyes brightening. The bat bugs would allow him to sense the location and condition of any child carrying a male bat bug at any time.


    ��If only Aemon...�� Rhaegar��s voice trailed off, his expression clouding as he cradled the tiny creature in his hands. But before sadness could take hold, the whirlpool in the sea began to calm, and a soft bluish glow floated to the surface.


    Rhaegar��s attention snapped back to the water. He gently gathered the bat bug in his palm.


    ��Zhi zhi...�� The bat bug chirped again, then dissolved into a misty ck vapor that hovered in his hand. Magical creatures were fascinating like that��they weren��t bound by physical form but carried a trace of wisdom, like the Serpent and the Toad.


    With a swift motion, Rhaegar scooped up the aquamarine glow from the sea.


    ��Congrattions, <em>Nagga��s Tears</em> has been activated. You have obtained...��


    [<em>Blessing of the Sea Dragon</em>]


    <em>Level: Epic (Purple)</em>


    <em>Effect: Grants ayer of sea dragon skin, +50% resistance to seawater and frost.</em>


    <em>Comment: "This false skin could save your life when the cold winter grips thend."</em>


    A faint transparent shimmer passed over Rhaegar��s body. He blinked, then muttered, ��An extrayer of dragon skin?��


    Curious, he ran his hand over his body, feeling his skin, which remained firm and porcin white. There was no slimy liquid, no snake-like scales��nothing had visibly changed.


    ��It��s still the same...��


    Rhaegar stood in silence for a moment, then called up his personal panel:


    [Rhaegar Targaryen]


    Talent: <em>Dreamer</em> (Gold)


    Bloodline: <em>Dragonborn</em> (+63%)


    Runes: <em>Bronze</em> (Green), <em>Serpent</em> (Blue), <em>Dream-Eating Toad</em> (Purple)


    Blood Sorcery: <em>Bat Worm</em>(Blue), <em>Dance of Dragons</em> (Purple)...


    Relics: <em>Fire and Blood, Dreamscape, Protection of the Sea Dragon</em>


    Special Items: <em>Space </em><em>Ne, Dragon Horn</em> (Unimed)


    Evaluation: <em>��The Prince of Ice and Fire, favored by Dragons and Sea Dragons.��</em>


    ��So it��s a status-type relic,�� Rhaegar murmured. To test it, he raised <em>Nightfall</em> and shed his arm.


    <em>Hum...</em>


    Green dragon scales immediately surfaced, forming the firstyer of protection. Then, a secondyer appeared��grayish-white keratin, like fine scales still wet with seawater.


    For a moment, Rhaegar stared at his arm in silence before asking quietly, ��Am I even still human?��


    The state of being a Dragonborn, the power of the Bronze Runes, and now the skin of a Sea Dragon... With each relic added, his body and appearance had grown further and further from those of an ordinary person.


    ��Maybe,�� he sighed, dark lines appearing on his forehead. ��The ancient Dragonlords of Valyria must have looked like this��dragonborn, but not entirely human.��


    It made sense, he thought. For the mighty Freehold Empire to exist, those in power may have transcended humanity in more ways than one.


    Rhaegar consoled himself silently with that thought.


    ...


    The next day, the sky was shrouded in darkness, with thick clouds hanging overhead like stctites, ready to break.


    "Roar..."


    A jet-ck dragon soared against the wind, its massive jaws mped around the bloodied corpse of a ten-meter-long wyvern, tearing into it with savage ferocity.


    "Roar... Roar..."


    More wyverns appeared, their white and green markings stark against the stormy sky as they circled in flocks over the Iron Inds. Whenever a wyvern tried to stray, a dragon would swoop down, driving it back into formation with merciless precision.


    Atop the high hill of the Nagga, Hena stood tall, her slender neck craned as she watched dozens of wyverns scatter across the inds. Some vanished into caves, others slipped into the ruins of old buildings, settling into the destendscape.


    ��Father, are we really doing the right thing?�� Baelon asked, cradling a dark, gleaming egg in his hands, his voice heavy with doubt. ��Is it right that the Ironborn are all dead?��


    Rhaegar��s face was pale, a ghostly shade of white. He held another egg in his hands and handed it to Hena, his expression unreadable. ��The bat-wormsid two eggs overnight,�� he said, his voice t. ��They��re thirsty for blood and magic now.�� The strain of providing what they needed had taken its toll on him.


    Baelon looked out over the now-empty Iron Inds, a barren wastnd repurposed as a breeding ground for the royal family��s wyverns. "The Lannisters fear you,�� he muttered.


    ��Fear is better than contempt,�� Rhaegar replied, his eyes gleaming with cold resolve as he stroked his eldest son��s head. ��A king doesn��t need to be loved.��


    If he had acted with more force from the beginning, House Baratheon would never have dared insult Aemon. But it wasn��t toote. As the strength of their house grew, Rhaegar would impose centralized rule, tightening his grip over the entire realm. Without it, their legacy would wither.


    Baelon said nothing, leaning into his father for warmth. A heavy sadness settled over him. He missed Aemon��their constant bickering, theughter, the bond only twins could share.


    <em>Tic-tac...</em>


    A tear slipped from Baelon��s boot, unnoticed until it hit the ground. Rhaegar nced down and saw it, knowing the flood would follow.


    ��Go ahead, cry,�� Rhaegar said, pulling Baelon closer. ��After today, you��ll be a Lord.��


    ��Uuu...��


    Baelon��s shoulders trembled as he tried to suppress his sobs. He hadn��t cried when he first heard about Aemon��s ident. He hadn��t shed a tear when Storm��s End burned or when the Iron Inds were ravaged. But now, in the stillness, grief overwhelmed him, wing at his heart.


    ��Uuu, I don��t have a brother anymore...�� Baelon whispered, gasping between sobs. He clung to his father��s waist, his breath hitching. ��Father... Aemon...��


    But the words caught in his throat, choking him.


    ��It��s okay,�� Rhaegar murmured, though his voicecked conviction. His eyes hardened as he stared into the distance. ��A lot of people will pay for this. The Ironborn call it iron price.��


    Baelon shook his head furiously, refusing to ept the reality of his brother��s sudden death.


    ��Let��s go,�� Hena said softly, breaking the silence. She took both his and Baelon��s hands in her own. Her expression was distant, though the pain was clear in her eyes. ��Later, we��ll build a Prince��s Pce on Pyke. The Iron Inds will be ours.��


    Rhaegar nced at her, recognizing her attempt atfort. The Iron Inds, barren as they were, would serve as a perfect outpost. A small pce on Pyke would not only keep a watchful eye on Lannisport, but also provide a home for the wyverns. It was time to fortify their rule.


    Prince��s Pces in the Stornds and Dorne were already necessary. In the Westends, it would be too risky to interfere directly, and The Reach would onlyplicate things. But the Iron Inds? They were the perfect ce to strengthen their hold and rebuild the family��s future.


    ...


    Meanwhile, in Pentos:


    "Ooh!"


    A Dothraki cavalry unit galloped along the Valyrian roads, their war cries echoing through the ins. There were many of them, all strong, battle-hardened warriors. Behind them trailed arge group of ragged ves, bound together with ropes, alongside carts of stolen wealth pulled by horses.


    The Khal had been hired by Prince Reggio of Pentos to serve as a guerri force, meant to disrupt the Golden Fields. But the winds had shifted.


    The King of the Iron Throne had lost a son, and word had spread across both the eastern and western continents��everyone knew the Dragonlord would seek revenge. Braavos and Pentos, sensing trouble, quickly dered a ceasefire. They sent envoys to King��s Landing to express their sorrow over the death of one of the Dragonlord��s sons.


    With the war over, the Dothraki tribe found themselves without an employer. However, Prince Reggio, skilled in diplomacy, spared them from retaliation by gifting the Khal a substantial number of ves and gold.


    ��Hurry up! Sack the next vige and let��s return to the Great Grass Sea!�� A young Bloodrider shouted, brandishing his curved de as he charged toward a nearby vige.


    The war may have ended, and the gifts had been received, but for the Dothraki, anything looted was considered an extra reward for their efforts. The simple logic of a raider��s mind was direct and merciless.


    ...


    A small fishing vige.


    ��Run!��


    ��Please, spare us!��


    The Dothraki cavalry stormed in, ughtering the men and elderly, burning homes and fields. The women were taken, and the children captured as ves.


    ��Khal, I��ve found a silver-haired boy!�� A young Bloodrider emerged from a thatched hut, holding his trousers in one hand and dragging a silver-haired boy by the other.


    ��Put him in the cage,�� Obon Khalmanded, his rugged face set in stone. As he turned his head, his bushy beard and long braid��adorned with jingling bells��swayed with the motion.


    ��Yes, blood of my blood,�� the Bloodrider snarled, tossing the boy into an iron cage, the same one used for pigs and dogs. It was a clear message: captured children were treated no better than livestock.


    <em>Bang!</em>


    The iron door nged shut, and the cage was packed with terrified children, crying and clinging to each other.


    ��Haha, you��ll fetch a fine price in ver��s Bay,�� the Bloodriderughed, pping his de against the bars. The sound startled the children even further, but he had long grown used to such sights.


    As the Khal rode past the cage, something caught his eye. Among the weeping and trembling children sat the silver-haired boy, silent and unflinching. His purple eyes stared ahead, devoid of fear or emotion, as if the horrors around him didn��t matter.


    ��Valyrian?�� Obon Khal muttered in surprise. He lifted his riding crop, pointing at the boy. ��Pull him out. He��ll tend the goats.��


    The Bloodriders obeyed, dragging the boy from the cage. Obon Khal watched intently, scrutinizing the boy��s appearance. There was something unmistakable about him��the nobility in his bearing, the way he carried himself despite his ragged clothes. No amount of dirt could hide it.


    ��Your ne is unusual,�� Obon Khal noted, prodding the dragon-shaped pendant hanging beneath the boy��s coarse linen shirt with his riding crop. The boy didn��t flinch, his vacant purple eyes locking onto the Khal��s.


    ��Ho ho...�� The boy finally spoke, but his voice was cracked and hoarse, like fingernails scraping ss.


    For a long moment, the Khal said nothing, studying him carefully. Then, with a solemn expression, he withdrew his crop and turned his horse.


    A person who does not fear death cannot be easily controlled by fear.


    ��Let him stay,�� Obon Khalmanded. ��He��ll work as a stable boy or a shepherd. Perhaps he��ll prove useful.��


    The Khal rode off, leaving the silver-haired boy behind. He had seen something rare in the child��something that could not be broken easily. Perhaps, in time, this boy could make his fortune.

 Chapter 644: Laenor’s Return

    Chapter 644: Laenor��s Return


    Basilisk Isles, the gathering ce.


    In a calm bay, beneath a towering cliff crowned by a grand pce, hundreds of Triarchy dignitaries, sellswords, and ve owners had gathered. The scent of wealth and danger hung in the air.


    On a plush wool rug, a burly man with a thick ck beard sat cross-legged, engaged in a heated debate with two other men.


    ��The King on the Iron Throne has lost his son. He��ll burn us all to ash for it,�� one man muttered darkly.


    ��You want to surrender? Go ahead, try,�� another shot back with a sneer.


    ��Cut the talk. We��ve made a fortune selling tapestries and perfumes to Qarth...�� ckbeard grinned, shing his white teeth. The conversation quickly shifted to trade. As long as there was gold to be made, they were willing to risk anything.


    ��I heard the Red Kraken died,�� ckbeard said with augh. ��Serves him right, letting his town be plundered.��


    ��He was too arrogant for his own good, refusing to die on his precious Iron Inds,�� remarked a man with a short, purple-dyed beard, shaking his head. ��He was a good pawn, but too greedy.��


    ��He hoarded the profits and now lies dead with all that gold,�� a white-haired ve owner from Myr chimed in with a sneer. ��But the dragons of the Iron Throne will return. What then?����Run away?��


    ��Idiot. We do business.��


    ��Then we��ll fight!��


    ��Against Dragonfire? Are you mad?��


    The three decision-makers argued bitterly, each with a dark, tense expression. Around them, the others watched with amusement, enjoying the spectacle. The Basilisk Isles were deste, tucked away in the far south of the Sothoryos continent. But how much Dragonfire could even a hidden cave withstand?


    ��We��ve already retreated from the Disputed Lands,�� ckbeard growled, pping his thigh. ��We can��t keep running!��


    ��Exactly! We fight,�� the mustachioed man dered, his sharp eyes drawing apuse from the crowd.


    The women and children could wait in the brothels, but without their riches, these men had nothing left. If they wanted to continue living in luxury, the Triarchy had to be rebuilt.


    ��Good! Then it��s decided!�� The white-haired ve owner pulled out a dagger and stood, anticipating the cheers of hisrades, expecting it to inspire them.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    Before he could bask in the apuse, a tremor shook the pce. A hot gust of wind followed, carrying the acrid smell of ash.


    ��What��s going on?�� Faces paled as the men scrambled to their feet.


    ��A dragon!�� came a terrified scream from outside.


    Over the bay, a jet-ck dragon, as dark as coal, soared through the sky, spewing green-tinged Dragonfire. It swept across the waters, burning every ship in sight. Thick smoke billowed as Triarchy pirates threw themselves into the sea, desperate to escape the inferno.


    ��in the pce... It��s the Cannibal,�� one man gasped.


    Rhaegar sat astride the beast, his ck robe fluttering in the wind, purple eyes locked on the foreign pce perched on the cliff.


    "Roar..." The Cannibal roared, its massive body skimming the sea��s surface before diving toward the cliff.


    Dark green Dragonfire erupted from its jaws, scorching everything in its path. With a thunderous crash, the dome of the pce crumbled, the stone walls melting under the intense heat.


    Rhaegar��s eyes were cold as he patted the dragon��s neck, urging it on. The Cannibal��s green pupils gleamed with hatred as it spun through the air, its shadow darkening every inch of the Basilisk Isles.


    Man and dragon were connected in spirit, each feeding off the other��s emotions. Rhaegar��s simmering hatred fanned the mes in the Cannibal��s heart, pushing it to vent its fury without mercy. The Dragoneater, once feared for its savagery, now unleashed its wrath on all who stood in its way, a monstrous force bound to the will of its rider.


    ...


    Vntis.


    Eastern City District, atop the ck Wall.


    <em>Whoosh.</em>


    A crossbow bolt whistled through the air, striking the scarecrow''s bull''s-eye from several dozen meters away.


    ��Feeling lucky today?�� Baelon asked as he approached, wearing a red cloak and carrying another crossbow.


    ��Not really. Just practicing,�� Ba replied, her expression emotionless as she quickly loaded her crossbow with practiced ease.


    <em>Shoot.</em>


    Baelon released his bolt, which nged off the parapet and ricocheted away. He sighed. ��Seems I don��t have any talent for shooting.�� He paused, recalling that their father rarely used longbows or crossbows either.


    Ba, nearby, gave him a sidelong nce before returning to her own target practice, pulling the trigger with quiet determination.


    Two months had passed since Aemon��s death. In that time, momentous events had unfolded across Westeros and beyond. House Baratheon of Storm��s End had been extinguished, the Ironborn annihted across the Westends, The Reach, and the Rivends. The war in Essos had ended, and the Iron Throne hadunched a devastating campaign against the Triarchy pirates in the Basilisk Isles.


    ��Roar!��


    A thunderous dragon roar echoed across the sky. A majestic scarlet dragon soared from the harbor, leading the royal fleet out into the Summer Sea.


    Ba nced up, awe flickering in her eyes. ��Grandmother and Grandfather have set off.��


    The elderly couple had stationed themselves in the Basilisk Isles, determined to bring the drawn-out naval conflict to an end.


    ��Father left early this morning,�� Baelon added, lowering his crossbow. Regret flickered across his face. ��He was the first to take on the pirates who were still putting up a fight.��


    Since the Battle of the Iron Inds, their great-uncle Daemon and third great-uncle One-Eyed Aemon had returned to King��s Landing, only to quickly depart for the battlefields of Sothoryos. Baelon, his sister Ba, and their younger brother Maekar had been left behind in Vntis, forbidden to leave the city.


    ��Your father is incredible,�� Ba said with a sigh, continuing her practice. ��One man and one dragon, sweeping through entirends. Burning so many people to death was his way of releasing all that pent-up frustration.��


    The near-massacre by Dragonfire had sent shockwaves across the world, sparking outrage from the Free Cities and various faiths. Even in Vntis, Ba could hear the condemnation from every corner. But she knew her father well��when he was in a dark mood, he wouldsh out and push away anyone who tried to care for him.


    ��He��s a king,�� Baelon replied quietly, sitting on the wall beside her. ��He can��t afford to show weakness.��


    Baelon had been sent by Rhaena to watch over her. Aemon��s death had shaken Ba to the core. One month she spent crying in secret, the next trying to escape Vntis in every way possible, seeking revenge. Now, she was locked away, consumed by training. If she continued like this, she would burn herself out.


    ��One day, I��ll avenge him,�� Ba said suddenly, as if reading Baelon��s thoughts. She turned to him. ��It was a wild dragon that killed him, wasn��t it?��


    Baelon hesitated, unsure of how to respond. The wreckage of <em>Trickster,</em> salvaged from Shipbreaker Bay, had shown signs of an attack by a wild dragon. His father had scoured the coastlines and the Narrow Sea, but the size and whereabouts of the dragon that killed Aemon remained a mystery. And <em>Moondancer</em> was still too young to face such a threat.


    ��I��m going to eat. Leave me alone,�� Ba muttered, setting down her crossbow and walking down the steps, her mood dark.


    <em>Moondancer</em> had grown into a fierce dragon, strong enough for battle. Yet between the disguised house arrest imposed by her father and the king, and Baelon��s reluctance to share details, Ba felt trapped. It all felt like a dagger twisting in her heart.


    ��That...�� Baelon sighed, watching her go. His father was right. They were still young, and the world beyond Vntis was vast. But Ba��s pain was undeniable.


    Everyone wanted to avenge Aemon, but the family couldn��t afford to lose another dragon rider. Not now.


    ...


    Night falls.


    Basilisk Isles, Isle of Flies.


    A campfire flickered in the mosquito-infested wastnd as soldiers hacked away at trees, building fortifications to shield the ind. The air was thick with the hum of insects and the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore.


    ��Our king is gone,�� Rhaenys muttered to her husband as they walked along the beach, her voice tinged with frustration.


    Corlys, ever watchful, inspected the coastline as the fleet formed a defensive line around the ind. There were three rebuilt Triarchy strongholds: The Axe, Isle of Tears, and Naath. Rhaegar had rushed to The Axe, Daemon and Aemond headed for Naath, leaving the most critical location��Isle of Tears��in the hands of the old couple.


    Strategically ced near the Basilisk Isles, any attack on the settlements would have to break through their defenses first. House Vryon��s fleet, undefeated and formidable, was meant for battles where raw power decided the oue.


    ��He burned thousands today��more than in many of our past wars,�� Rhaenys said, her tone carrying clear disapproval. The stench of charred flesh clung to her, an unpleasant reminder of the day��s carnage.


    ��You��re still brooding over Storm��s End?�� Corlys frowned, ncing at her. ��Rhaenys, we��re at war. The Iron Inds suffered far more.��


    ��Yes, and the lords of the Westends and The Reach apuded,�� Rhaenys snapped, turning her head away. Her husband��s words offered nofort. She knew he was right, but it didn��t lessen her unease.


    No matter the politics, no matter the war, the destruction of House Baratheon weighed heavily on her. They had been loyal to the Iron Throne for over a century, yet her own nephew had wiped them from existence. That was her second family��those children who perished had been her blood.


    ��Keep your head, Rhaenys,�� Corlys said sternly. ��Don��t let your emotions cloud your judgment. No one wants to lose their children.��


    He spoke from a ce of deep sorrow. When their eldest son, Laenor, had been assassinated, Corlys had been so consumed by rage he nearly killed Prince Qoren of Dorne. His grief, like hers, had led him down a dark path.


    Rhaenys sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. ��You��re right,�� she whispered, her voice soft. She didn��t me Rhaegar for his ruthlessness, but the loss of both her son and daughter had left her fearful��afraid of more loss, more heartache. Rhaegar, too, was reacting to the pain of losing his son, and in his fury, House Baratheon had paid the ultimate price.


    Corlys reached out, gently pulling her closer, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. ��Try to stay hopeful,�� he said, his voice tender yet helpless.


    Together, they walked through the night.


    <em>Whoosh.</em>


    Suddenly, a deep horn echoed through the night.


    Corlys��s face darkened, his expression turning sharp. ��No, that��s not the sound of a patrol ship,�� he warned.


    ��Get ready!�� Rhaenys broke free from his embrace and sprinted toward the camp.


    Meleys, her scarlet dragon,y atop the ind,zily digesting the livestock the soldiers had fed it. But now, the rumble of approaching ships filled the air, and pirate vessels appeared one after another on the horizon, their catapultsunching burning fireballs into the night sky.


    ��Hurry! Get to the warship!�� Corlys ordered, his face grim as he strapped on his armor and was the first to board the ship. He knew these waters well��the pirates must have attacked the patrols and slipped past them, sneaking up on Slush Ind.


    Out at sea, the enemy fleet approached.


    ��Attack! Capture the Sea Snake alive!�� ckbeard bellowed,ughing as his ship was the first tond. Brandishing a scimitar, he led the charge, his ck curls still matted with soot from a previous battle. He had survived countless close calls, and tonight, he believed he was destined for glory��he would capture the head of House Vryon himself.


    <em>Crash! Boom!</em>


    Catapult fire rained down on the camp, breaking through its defenses and lighting up the dark sky with mes. Pirates swarmed the shore like ants, rushing to im the ind.


    Meleys, resting at the top of the hill, stirred at the noise. The dragon opened its vertical pupils, scanning the chaotic scene below for its rider. But with so many people running, screaming, and fighting, it couldn��t immediately find Rhaenys.


    <em>Crash! Boom!</em>


    ��Follow me and capture Corlys Vryon alive!�� ckbeard urged, leading the pirate horde onto the ind.


    On the deck of the <em>Sea Snake</em>, Corlys stood, watching as the pirates closed in. They threw hooks anddders onto the ship, swarming it before he could set sail.


    ��Damn it, hold the line!�� Corlys shouted, engaging in a brutal melee, blood staining the deck as he waited for Rhaenys toe to his aid with her dragon.


    ��Die, old man!�� a group of sellswords taunted as they broke through the defenses, grinning viciously as they closed in. Corlys��s pupils narrowed as he raised his long-handled curved sword to fend them off, but his age was catching up to him. His movements were slower, his strength waning.


    He fought valiantly, but the tide turned against him. As he was forced back, he caught a glimpse of the frontline on the Isle of Flies copsing entirely. The campfires had be infernos, spreading across the ind unchecked.


    <em>ng!</em>


    A de shed through his armor, forcing Corlys to stagger back several paces. Gritting his teeth, he turned, only to see more sellswords charging toward him. He knew he couldn��t hold out much longer.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Suddenly, a piercing dragon��s roar shattered the night, cutting through the chaos.


    ��Dracarys!�� came a shout in High Valyrian, followed by the pale silver form of a dragon rising into the sky.


    It unleashed a torrent of dragonfire, scorching the enemies swarming around the <em>Sea Snake</em>. The mes roared to life, consuming pirate ships and men alike, turning the beach into a zing battlefield.

 Chapter 645: Slaver’s Bay Surrenders

    Chapter 645: ver��s Bay Surrenders


    <em>Boom!</em>


    A torrent of orange-tinged Dragonfire erupted across the battlefield, spewing from the jaws of a pale silver dragon. mes swept over the Triarchy pirates, engulfing them in a merciless inferno.


    ��Ahhh����


    Their agonized screams echoed through the night as they writhed on the ground, desperately wing at the unrelenting mes. There was no escape. Above them, the silver dragon hovered��slow, deliberate��raining fire with ruthless precision.


    ��Father, steer the ship out to sea!�� A familiar voice cut through the chaos, and Corlys Vryon froze, his curved de halting mid-swing.


    For a moment, his heart stopped, the blood pounding in his ears. He looked up, disbelief flooding his senses.


    It couldn��t be.


    The dragon in the sky wasn��t <em>Meleys,</em> the scarlet beast he knew��it was a light silver dragon, its wings marred by blood-crusted scabs. And on its back, a figure he had thought lost forever: a young man with cropped silver hair and sun-darkened skin. The face��so painfully familiar��hit Corlys like a tidal wave.


    ��Laenor����His voice trembled. His eldest son, long believed dead in the Dornish war a decade ago, was there, alive and astride <em>Seasmoke,</em> the dragon he had once ridden into battle.


    Corlys��s hands shook. He rubbed his eyes, bloodshot from the fight, as if trying to dispel an illusion. But it wasn��t a dream. It was real.


    ��He��s still riding <em>Seasmoke</em>...�� His voice cracked, thick with emotion. Tears welled in his eyes. The son he had mourned for ten long years was alive, soaring above him as he had done all those years agomanding his dragon, leading the charge.


    ��Dracarys!�� Laenor��s voice rang out, his face alight with a fierce smile as he shouted themand. Tears blurred his vision, but he pressed on.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    <em>Seasmoke</em> responded, unleashing another searing wave of fire, carving a path through the pirates surrounding the <em>Sea Snake.</em>


    Corlys wiped the tears from his face, his heart swelling with newfound strength. His voice thundered across the deck. ��Follow me! My son hase to our aid on his dragon!��


    The words ��my son�� electrified the sailors. Exhausted and battle-weary, their spirits surged at the sight of the familiar silver dragon. With renewed energy, they fought back, breaking through the pirate siege with newfound hope.


    As soon as the <em>Sea Snake</em> broke free into open water, the fleet swiftly reorganized andunched a counterattack.


    ��Dracarys! Dracarys!�� Laenor��s battle cry echoed across the waves, a decade of unspoken shouts unleashed all at once. His voice rang with a raw intensity, as if making up for the lost years.


    <em>Seasmoke</em> stayed close, obedient to everymand, releasing wave after wave of Dragonfire as if it would never run dry.


    ...


    On the mountaintop,


    Rhaenys ran to <em>Meleys,</em> gripping the ropedder in preparation to mount, when a powerful roar split the sky,den with an inexplicable familiarity.


    ��<em>Seasmoke?</em>��


    She froze, her breath catching. Quickly, she looked up at the night sky. There, circling above, was the pale silver dragon, rescuing Corlys from the ship he had been trapped on.


    Rhaenys��s almond-shaped eyes widened in disbelief. When she saw the rider��his familiar figure unmistakable��tears welled in her eyes. ��Laenor����


    The name slipped from her lips, and she instantly covered her mouth, afraid her voice would break under the weight of her emotions.


    Unlike Corlys, who had made peace with the loss, Rhaenys had always held on to a sliver of hope that her son was alive. And now, against all odds, Laenor was here��alive and well, riding the dragon he had bonded with since childhood. Joy trembled through her body.


    <em>Roar��</em>


    <em>Meleys</em> growled softly, sensing her emotions, tilting its head to nudge her arm as if to remind her of the battle. It was ready to fight.


    Ovee with emotion, Rhaenys copsed against <em>Meleys��s</em> scarlet wings, choking back sobs. ��My child is back,�� she whispered, tears flowing freely.


    <em>Roar��</em>


    <em>Meleys</em> blinked itsrge, warm eyes, then extended his long tail, wrapping it gently around her in a gesture offort.


    ��He��s back,�� Rhaenys repeated, her tears slowly turning intoughter. She rested her forehead against the dragon��s body, taking in the moment before regaining herposure. ��We have work to do too, old girl.��


    <em>Meleys</em> crouched low, already prepared for battle.


    Momentster, the empty night sky was alive with the sounds of battle��fierce fighting and desperate cries mingling with the roars of dragons.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    <em>Roar!</em>


    A scarlet dragon and a pale silver one flew together, their majestic forms cutting through the sea breeze, theirbined Dragonfire spilling across the battlefield. The war had spread from the Isle of Flies to the open sea, and still, it pushed onward.


    The banner of House Vryon��its blue seahorse pping proudly in the wind��stood tall, a symbol of strength and defiance.


    But the fate of the Triarchy pirates remained unchanged. They were engulfed in mes, burning onnd and sea.


    ...


    The next day, at noon.


    Several dragons soared over the mouth of the Rhoyne, their shadows sweeping across the waters beforending atop the ck Wall of Vntis.


    At the Magister''s Pce, Baelon, impably dressed, led his foster sisters, Ba and Rhaena, each at his side. The three young people stood at the entrance, excitement lighting up their faces.


    ��Grandmother!��


    Rhaena, always the sharpest-eyed, waved enthusiastically. In the courtyard, silver-haired figures moved about, a familiar sight to the siblings.


    Rhaenys, still brimming with energy despite the long night of battle, approached with a radiant smile. ��Rhaena, my children,�� she called warmly, her arms open as she walked alongside Daemon and Corlys.


    Baelon, being the youngest, only noticed the familiar faces of his rtives. But Ba and Rhaena��both older and more observant��stood frozen in shock, their gazes fixed on the man apanying their elders.


    He was handsome, with a striking resemnce to their mother, Laena, but his skin was roughened and darkened by the sun, and his hair was cropped short. He dressed simply, in stark contrast to the richly adorned surroundings.


    The sisters stared, momentarily speechless.


    ��Look who it is, children,�� Rhaenys beamed, gathering her three grandchildren into a warm embrace.


    The man stepped forward, his expression both wistful and awkward. ��Ba, Rhaena, how are you?�� he asked softly.


    ��Laenor!��


    Ba��s exmation broke the tension as she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him.


    Rhaena��s eyes reddened, her voice trembling. ��Uncle����


    ��It��s me,�� Laenor chuckled, quickly epting the embrace of his nieces, his deep, maic voice unmistakable.


    Baelon stood rooted, his eyes wide with disbelief. ��You��re Ser Laenor?�� he asked, hisposure slipping. It was hard to reconcile the long-lost figure from family tales with the man now standing before him.


    Laenor smiled, ncing at his mother before turning to Baelon. ��That��s right, Prince. Ist saw you when you were just a baby.��


    ��Yes, Ser,�� Baelon replied, gathering himself as he extended his hand to guide them inside. ��Please,e in. It��s a shame my father isn��t here��he would have been overjoyed to see you.��


    ��Rhaegar isn��t here?�� Rhaenys asked, puzzled. She had sent word the previous night about the council, and with the speed of the ck dragon, he should have arrived by now.


    Baelon hesitated, then offered an apologetic smile. ��Perhaps something came up. He may have stayed behind at The Axe.��


    Corlys stepped forward, his gaze sweeping the courtyard. ��And what of Prince Maekar? We should greet the host of this house properly,�� he said, puffing out his chest proudly, his hand resting on his son��s shoulder. There was a certain satisfaction in the Sea Snake��s stance��his son had returned, and he wanted the world to know.


    ��Maekar had somethinge up as well,�� Baelon admitted, clearly ufortable. ��But please, let��s go inside.��


    Ba and Rhaena exchanged nces, sensing the tension, and quickly moved to help change the subject as they all made their way into the pce.


    ...


    ver''s Bay, Meereen �� The Great Pyramid.


    <em>Roar��</em>


    The Cannibal loomed before the Great Pyramid, its massive, terrifying head level with the peak of the tower. Its eerie green pupils glowed with a dark, unsettling light. Hundreds of Unsullied stood surrounding the creature, their spears trembling in their hands, their fear palpable.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Above, a young silver-grey dragon hovered in the air, its dark vertical pupils surveying the soldiers on the city walls. asionally, it pped its wings, sending gusts of wind that rippled across the silent city. The once-noisy streets of Meereen had fallen into an uneasy hush. Only the roars of the two dragons echoed across ver��s Bay.


    ...


    Inside the Great Pyramid��s main hall.


    Rhaegar lounged on the throne,zily removing his ck robe as he reclined, eyes half-closed. He listened idly as his third son, Maekar, sat at the foot of the throne, carefully reading aloud from a letter.


    "At midnight yesterday, pirates from the Isle of Tears attacked the camp..." Maekar��s childlike voice echoed in the cavernous hall.


    Below them, the Wise Masters, Good Masters, and Great Masters of ver''s Bay gathered, huddled in fearful silence. Every now and then, one of them would nce upward nervously, terrified of drawing attention, as if the dragons outside might burst into the hall at any moment.


    Father and son, rxed and at ease, seemed perfectly at home in the imposing pyramid, despite the tension that gripped everyone around them.


    "Okay, that''s it," Maekar said, folding the letter with a satisfied nod, his voice still carrying the innocence of youth.


    "Hmm," Rhaegar responded, resting his handzily on the arm of the throne, his expression calm and unreadable. The letter recounted the fierce battle from the previous night and the astonishing news of Laenor��s return on <em>Seasmoke.</em>


    "Aren��t you going to say anything, Father?" Maekar asked, his sapphire-blue eyes filled with an unspoken sadness. His aunt and uncle had been reunited, but his own brother was gone.


    "This is good news," Rhaegar replied with a faint, emotionless smile. "If Laenor is still alive, then nothing in this world is impossible."


    Maekar��s eyes sparkled thoughtfully as he nodded, trusting his father��s wordspletely.


    Rhaegar reached over, gently ruffling Maekar��s hair, his gaze softening with a mix of relief and nostalgia. If Baelon, the eldest, was to inherit the throne but met with misfortune, Maekar would be prepared to assist his brother. His youngest son would need to learn the ways of kingship and be an able advisor.


    As their conversation trailed off, the soft sound of footsteps echoed from outside the hall.


    ��My apologies for not weing you sooner, Your Grace of the Iron Throne,�� a woman��s voice chimed in.


    Irina entered, her stride brisk and her smile wide. She greeted Rhaegar with the confidence and charm so characteristic of those from the Lands of the Long Summer. There was a certain wildness and warmth in her manner that set her apart from the rest.


    "Cut the crap and get to the point," Rhaegar''s voice cut through the room with icy precision, his gaze unflinching. "You im to have found traces of the wild dragon. Where?"


    "In the Great Grass Sea, stretching all the way to Sothoryos," Irina replied earnestly, her tone unwavering.


    Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed with suspicion. "What color is the dragon?" he demanded. If not for the message hinting at its discovery, there would have been no reason for him to travel to ver''s Bay. But if this information was true, it would pave the way for avenging his second son��and eliminating a lurking threat.


    "White," Irina said confidently, then added, "maybe pale or grey. It has one blind eye."


    At this, Rhaegar straightened in his seat, his skepticism fading just enough. There was a 70 or 80 percent chance she was telling the truth.


    "Father," Maekar, standing nearby, tugged at the hem of his trousers, his young eyes filled with caution. Both knew this meeting wasn''t solely about tracking a wild dragon.


    Rhaegar gave a slight nod, signaling that he understood. Regaining hisposure, he responded, "That��s still not enough. I need the exact location." Sothoryos was vast, and finding a wild dragon was like searching for a needle in a haystack.


    "Perhaps near the Axe and the Basilisk Isles," Irina suggested seriously. "There''s war in the Basilisk Isles right now, so the Axe seems the likelier location."


    Rhaegar considered this, weighing the credibility of her words. With ver''s Bay positioned across the sea from Sothoryos and informants scattered across the region, her analysis seemed well-founded.


    After a pause, Rhaegar spoke bluntly, "Your information has some value. Now, tell me why you really summoned me here." He knew there was always more to such discussions��especially when something was being asked of him.


    Irina��s expression brightened slightly, sensing an opening. "Even if you refuse the marriage proposal, the Iron Throne and ver''s Bay can still forge a strong alliance for mutual defense," she said with a serious tone.


    ��<em>Strong?</em>�� Rhaegar scoffed, shaking his head with a mocking smile. ��ver''s Bay has been fractured into three parts. Trust and loyalty? Hardly.��


    Unfazed, Irina pressed on. "You��re attacking the Basilisk Isles, thest refuge of the Triarchy pirates. They��ll fight to the death, dragging your kingdom into a drawn-out war."


    "Braavos and Pentos have already dered a truce," Rhaegar replied coldly, his eyes shing with a dangerous glint. "We can afford to wait."


    "An alliance with ver''s Bay would end the war much sooner," Irina argued, her posture straightening as she emphasized her point. "With our fleet, the Triarchy pirates would be driven to seek shelter."


    "But I don��t need an alliance," Rhaegar said, his tone t and immovable. "ver��s Bay once knelt to the Freehold Empire, and just a few years ago, it surrendered to me and raised my banner."


    He paused, letting his words sink in before delivering his final blow. "If you truly seek the Iron Throne��s support, then kneel and pledge your allegiance."


    He didn��t need ver''s Bay to be particrly useful, but if Irina wanted to secure her ce, it would be on his terms. A woman ruling over ver��s Bay could make things...plicated.


    Irina blinked, momentarily stunned. "You want me to be your advisor?" she asked, disbelief creeping into her voice.


    "Or my subject," Rhaegar replied without hesitation.


    He rose to his full height and drew his ancestral sword, <em>ckfyre</em>, mming it into the stone floor with a ringing thud.


    Suddenly��


    <em>Roar��</em>


    The pce shook as a massive dragon��s head smashed into the walls of the Great Pyramid. ss shattered, spraying the air as the unmistakable stench of ash and fire filled the hall.


    Irina turned her head slowly, dread creeping up her spine as she met the gaze of the beast outside��its gleaming green pupils staring back at her, cold and malevolent, like the eyes of an ancient evil.


    Eerie. Cunning. Cruel.

 Chapter 646: The Unknown Wild Dragon

    Chapter 646: The Unknown Wild Dragon


    ��Your Grace, what do you mean?�� Irina''s voice wavered slightly, but she stood firm, her stubbornness battling against the fear creeping down her spine.


    ��It��s simple,�� Rhaegar replied, his tone casual as he spread his hands. ��Surrender, or die.��


    The choice was clear, though both paths seemed grim. ver��s Bay had stumbled right into the dragon��s maw, and there was no one to me but themselves. Even if multiple fronts opened up, Rhaegar had the upper hand. With <em>The Cannibal</em> and his dragonriders at hismand, he could eliminate most of the threats in the world.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    The Cannibal let out a deep growl, thin streams of green fire flickering from its mouth as its malevolent gaze bore into the room. The ve owners trembled uncontrobly; one or two even soiled themselves. Facing a dragon head-on was a fate worse than death��killing oneself seemed a mercy byparison.


    ��Surrender, or die,�� Rhaegar repeated, his eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint. He had no time to waste. He still needed to avenge his second son, and this dy tested his patience.


    ��I���� Irina��s proud posture faltered. She felt the weight of death pressing on her shoulders, and though every fiber of her being resisted, she lowered her head, teeth clenched. ��I submit.��


    Better to live and fight another day than to perish here. She hadn��t fled from the Lands of the Long Summer to die in a ze of recklessness.


    ��Good,�� Rhaegar said, a smile barely touching his lips as he waved dismissively.<em>Roar...</em>


    The Cannibal shook its enormous head, slowly pulling away from the Great Pyramid, though a low, menacing growl rumbled in its throat, sending waves of terror through everyone present.


    As the dragon retreated, the tension in the hall eased. ve owners copsed where they stood, their legs weak, drenched in cold sweat. Irina forced herself to remainposed, though her throat bobbed with the effort to keep calm.


    ��Bring Lord Jason,�� she ordered, her voice strained.


    ��Yes, Your Grace,�� an Unsullied guard bowed and hurried to carry out themand.


    Momentster, a disheveled man was dragged into the hall��unkempt, clothes tattered, and hair a matted mess.


    ��Jason Lannister?�� Rhaegar blinked, almost failing to recognize the man who once exuded such arrogance and elegance. Jason, who had always dressed finer than the noblestdies of the realm, now stood before him looking like a beggar.


    ��Your Grace!�� Jason gasped, brushing the filthy strands of hair from his face. His eyes welled with tears as he fell to his knees with a heavy <em>thud</em>. ��Why have youe? I knew the Iron Throne would not abandon me!�� he cried, his voice breaking as he covered his face and wept uncontrobly.


    He kicked his legs in desperation, sobbing like a child. No one could have imagined the torment he had endured these past few months��locked in a squalid cell, treated worse than amon ve, dragged to the coliseum regrly for beatings.


    ��Your Grace!�� Jason wailed again, his once-rotund body now gaunt, his face hollowed by hunger. ��They starve me, they keep me from sleep, they mistreat a Lord of the Realm!��


    Rhaegar stared in silence, momentarily at a loss for words.


    Maekar, standing beside him, muttered, ��What a disgrace.��


    Rhaegar��s face flushed with embarrassment. ��Get up,�� he snapped, his voice cutting through the pitiful sobs. ��I��ll arrange a ship to take you back to Lannisport.��


    ��Yes, Your Grace,�� Jason replied, scrambling to his feet with surprising agility, his movements betraying none of the suffering he had justmented. The once-proud Lord, stripped of his dignity, seemed far quicker on his feet than he ever had been.


    ''The Game of Thrones truly tests a man��s mettle,'' Maekar thought dryly, seizing the moment to add his own observation.


    Perhaps leaving Lord Jason behindst time hadn��t been the worst decision after all.


    "Your Grace, I had no desire to make things difficult for him," Irina said with contempt, striding forward. "He��s a miserly old fool who refuses to spend a single gold coin to buy his freedom, even though Casterly Rock is overflowing with riches." She sneered, shaking her head. "I��ve never seen anyone cling to wealth more than life."


    "I agreed!" Jason protested, his face smeared with tears and snot.


    "That was <em>afterward,</em>" Irina replied with a mocking nce. "But still, no one has sent me any gold."


    The letters she��d sent to Lord Tnd in Vntis had gone unanswered, sinking into silence like stones tossed into the sea. No one from the Westends had bothered to ransom him.


    Rhaegar waved his hand dismissively, as if swatting at a fly. "Enough of this farce. Get someone to clean him up."


    It wasn��t Jason Lannister himself that disgusted him��it was the pitiful state of it all. The sight of the once-proud Lord of Lannisport reduced to this was a disgrace. Without another word, Rhaegar pulled <em>ckfyre</em> from the ground and sheathed it, his mind already shifting to the next task.


    "Prepare the fleet to support the Basilisk Isles campaign. ver''s Bay is to be incorporated under the rule of the Iron Throne," hemanded, his tone leaving no room for debate.


    "Yes, Your Grace," Irina replied, though a flicker of dissatisfaction crossed her face. But she bowed her head, epting her fate. ��Under the rule,�� she thought bitterly. <em>In name only.</em> The aristocracy would still run things here, following orders when necessary.


    Rhaegar gave her a final nce and then beckoned to Maekar, signaling him to follow. He didn��t expect full submission from her, just enough cooperation to use her when needed. As long as she didn��t stir up trouble, she could continue developing ver��s Bay as she saw fit.


    ...


    Later, above Meereen.


    <em>Roar��</em>


    The ck dragon soared high into the sky, its massive wings cutting through the air like curtains that dragged the wind behind them. Following closely was a young silver-grey dragon, its smaller form roaring defiantly at the soldiers manning the city walls.


    The soldiers, already terrified, turned pale at the sight, some nearly fainting where they stood.


    ...


    Inside the Great Pyramid.


    Irina stood gazing out at the horizon, her expression unreadable. "It��s good to have a dragon," she murmured to herself, the bitter truth of it heavy on her heart. There was an undeniable chasm between the power of Dragonlord houses that possessed dragons and those that did not.


    If her House, House Daeryon, had even a single dragon��an egg, a hatchling��she wouldn��t need to curry favor with House Targaryen, nor be trapped in their shadow.


    "Sister!" A loud, simple-minded voice called from behind her, muffled slightly, as if something was still in the speaker''s mouth.


    Irina turned, and her face softened with helpless affection. A handsome young man stood there, a childish grin on his face, his mouth full of candies. "Why did you run out?" she asked, sighing.


    "Eat, eat!" the young man drooled, pulling out more colorful candies from the pocket of his satin clothes, offering one to her with sticky fingers.


    "Alright, alright," Irina said sadly, taking the candy and wiping the drool from his chin. He was her only family left��her simple, sweet younger brother. In the Lands of the Long Summer, food was scarce, and all they had weremb and grass roots. But here, beyond that cursednd, they could eat anything they wanted.


    "Take him away," she instructed her most trusted captain, Racallio. "And make sure the servants take good care of him."


    Racallio, dressed mboyantly in a purple gown,ughed boisterously as he draped his arm around the Queen��s brother, hoisting him onto his shoulder. With a grin, he carried him off toward the bedchambers, which were filled with the heady scent of incense.


    Irina watched them disappear, a pang of guilt gnawing at her. Her brother, with his childlike mind, was the one who would have to continue their bloodline.


    But before she could dwell on it, two bald wizards in red robes approached, their presence casting a shadow over her thoughts.


    "Your Grace, Queen of Meereen," one of them said, bowing slightly.


    Irina��s brief moment of reflection vanished, reced by cold calction. "Have you found the wild dragon?" she asked, her voice sharp.


    "No," the bald wizard admitted, his tone low. "It was once tamed in Asshai, but it escaped."


    "Then go find it," Irinamanded, her patience thinning.


    "We need more people," the other wizard said.


    "ver��s Bay is never short of people," she retorted, waving them away.


    As the wizards retreated, Irina frowned, distaste twisting her features. The wild dragon had never been tamed by the sorcerers of Asshai, despite their ims. It had been a hatchling when they captured it, and they had tortured it��draining its blood and pulling off its scales for their twisted magical experiments.


    But the young dragon had broken free, grown strong, and turned on its captors. It was no wonder it had escaped.


    "Forget it," Irina muttered to herself, rubbing her face in an attempt to shake off her frustration. "Finding that dragon is the priority."


    ...


    The Great Grass Sea.


    The sun zed high in a cloudless sky, casting harsh light over the endless expanse of grasnds. A Dothraki tribe, more than 100,000 strong, roamed the vast ins, seeking the season��s richest pastures.


    <em>Crack!</em> The whipshed through the air, striking a ve and leaving a deep, bloody welt across his back.


    ��Weak cowards! Don��t slow us down!�� a Dothraki warrior spat, cursing in broken Valyrian as his whip snapped again at the dark-skinned ves from the Summer Isles. Their ebony skin stood out against the sea of green��a rare sight in thesends. But they were strong and resilient, a gift from ver''s Bay, making them excellent ves.


    ��Hurry up! We need to reach the river by nightfall!�� the gruff voice of a scarred Bloodrider barked as he passed on horseback, his orders punctuated by the crack of whips driving the ves forward.


    At the rear of the procession, carts mixed with cows and sheep trudged along. Among them, a pale-faced silver-haired boy struggled to push a stubborn sheep forward.


    ��Ba-ba...�� The sheep bleatedzily, chewing on the grass, its plump body refusing to budge.


    ��Go!�� The boy��s voice was hoarse, as if worn down from exhaustion. He shoved at the animal with all his might, but the sheep remained unmoved.


    ��You''re doing it wrong��the sheep needs to be driven,�� a voice interrupted. A girl with jet-ck hair and a fur skirt approached, flicking a small leather whip. With a quick snap, she struck the sheep��s rear, causing it to bleat and finally move forward.


    The silver-haired boy watched, defeated, and followed with his head bowed.


    ��Why aren''t you saying anything?�� the girl asked, her freckled face bright with curiosity. Her dark, intelligent eyes studied him closely.


    He looked at her in silence, his expression unreadable.


    ��My name��s Leah. What��s yours?�� She continued driving the sheep as she walked beside him, her gaze fixed on him as if he were some rare creature.


    The boy remained mute.


    Leah frowned and, with sudden boldness, grabbed his cor, leaning in and sniffing like a curious animal. Wrinkling her nose, she pulled back. ��Even dragons stink?�� she teased, smirking at the scent.


    The boy stiffened, his pale eyes flickering with a brief sh of anger as he tried to push her hand away. Leah just grinned, unfazed, her interest in him only growing.


    "What��s your name? Targaryen?" Leah��s eyes sparkled with curiosity as she tugged at the silver-haired boy��s dirty, matted hair, her gaze lingering on his unusual purple eyes.


    ��I��m not�� a Targaryen,�� he muttered, his face tense with difort, struggling to deny it.


    ��You are. My father said so,�� Leah replied, tilting her head back with a knowing grin. ��He��s the Khal of the tribe, and he said he��s going to sell you to ver��s Bay��enough gold to buy the whole tribe.��


    The boy fell silent, his jaw tightening.


    ��I��ll teach you to herd sheep. Will you talk to me then?�� Leah leaned in, her face nearly brushing his, her voice teasing.


    ��And what could I possibly learn from you?�� he asked bitterly, his lips curling into a pained smile. ��How to beat ves? The same way you beat sheep?��


    ��You��re boring!�� Leah snapped, her expression darkening before she spun around and stormed off.


    <em>Crack!</em>


    No sooner had she left than a whip sliced through the air, striking the boy��s back with a sickening snap. His linen shirt split open, exposing fresh, bloody welts beneath.


    The boy gritted his teeth, refusing to make a sound, though the pain was searing.


    ��Take care of your sheep, just like your goat-fucking ancestors,�� sneered the young Bloodrider, rolling up the bloodstained whip with disdain.


    The silver-haired boy trembled, his purple eyes locking onto the Bloodrider with a chilling intensity. He red, his gaze dark and full of quiet fury, as ifmitting the man��s face to memory.


    ��Want more?�� the young Bloodrider jeered, raising the whip to strike again.


    But before the blow couldnd, arge hand gripped the Bloodrider��s arm, stopping him mid-swing. The scarred Bloodrider had appeared without warning, his face thunderous. "Don��t be a fool. Obey the Khal��s orders."


    The young Bloodrider scowled, pulling his arm free before riding off, but the silver-haired boy��s eyes never left him.


    "You need to be smarter," the scarred Bloodrider said in broken Valyrian, his voice firm yet carrying a note of warning, before turning to ry orders to the rest of the camp.


    The boy understood the words clearly. In the entire tribe, only the Khal��s daughter spoke pure Valyrian, while the others mixed their speech with broken dialects of Dothraki. Wincing from the pain, he continued to drive the sheep forward.


    ��Ba-ba���� One of the plump-bottomed sheep bleated, suddenly rearing up and knocking him to the ground. His wounded back struck a sharp stone, sending waves of agony through his body. Sweat beaded on his brow as he struggled to sit up.


    <em>Pop.</em>


    His hand slipped into something slick. He nced down and grimaced in disgust��it was a pool of ck, slimy excrement.


    ��Dung,�� he muttered, his nostrils ring as the pungent smell of sulfur hit him, the familiar stench of livestock waste.


    <em>Tick�� tock��</em>


    Tears welled in his eyes as memories flooded back. His gaze blurred as he recalled the <em>Trickster,</em> the long-tailed green dragon with a special bloodline that had been hispanion since birth. They had grown up together, closer than family, inseparable.


    "No dragon�� no Targaryen��" he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.


    The boy buried his face in the sheep��s thick fleece, muffling his sobs, the overwhelming sense of loss and loneliness washing over him in silence.

 Chapter 647: The Great Targaryen Council

    Chapter 647: The Great Targaryen Council


    Vntis.


    The weather was clear and pleasant as the council convened atop the towering ck Wall. Rhaegar stood by the council table early, nked by his two sons. The "table" was more a vast sandbox, where battle ns and strategies were visualized with ease.


    The Ba and Rhaena sisters, serving as cupbearers, moved gracefully among the gathered family and advisors, offering refreshments. The first to arrive were Rhaenys, her husband and Laenor.


    ��Your Grace,�� Laenor greeted, his voice tinged with bashfulness as he nodded, dressed in a finely tailored brocade suit. The new clothes helped smooth his rough edges, but he stillcked a certain confidence.


    ��Sit,�� Rhaegar said with a faint, unreadable smile, his tone neither warm nor cold.


    ��Come now, your cousin may be king, but he��s still family,�� Rhaenys interjected, wrapping her arms around her newly returned son, her joy palpable.


    Laenor nodded, taking a seat, though his movements were awkward, still adjusting to the sudden shift in his status. ��I suppose I��ll get used to it... in time,�� he said, offering a wry smile as his hands fidgeted nervously in hisp.


    Rhaegar silently pushed a goblet of golden wine toward him, casting a brief nce at the sisters. Ba��s expression was aplex mix of emotions as she maintained a poised demeanor, carefully minding the manners of her upbringing. Meanwhile, Rhaena stood nearby, smiling too brightly, the difort of her shifting position evident.


    With Laenor��s return, Corlys'' inheritance had changed automatically��his eldest son had been restored to his rightful ce. Rhaena, who had been groomed as heir, now found herself pushed aside, a status gap she could not help but feel keenly.As the day went on, more members of House Targaryen arrived. Aegon, Hena, Aemond, and Daeron��the four adult dragonriders born of the same mother��gathered at the council.


    From King��s Landing came Daemon, apanied by Mysaria, the enigmatic White Worm.


    Finally, thest to arrive was Rhaenyra, who descended from the skies atop her great dragon, <em>Syrax</em>.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Syrax circled overhead, its enormous 40-meter frame casting a broad shadow over the assembly. The dragon wasn��t alone. Perched on its back alongside Rhaenyra were two young dragons. Visenya, her daughter, sat nestled in her mother��s arms, while at her feety a menacing, earth-colored dragon, its sharp gaze surveying the scene.


    Aegor, her youngest son, clung to his sister, gnawing contentedly on a bright orange dragon egg, drool dribbling down his chin.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    A young silver dragon pierced through the clouds, its gleaming scales shimmering like a creature born of grace and elegance. Rhaegar''s face brightened at the sight. <em>Stormcloud</em> had arrived from The Eyrie, carrying his eldest daughter, Daenerys, and his second daughter, Lyanna. Close behind them, a young bronze dragon, no more than three or four meters in length, unfurled its blood-red, spiderweb-like wings, slowly catching up to therger beast.


    The timing was fitting. With the good news of Laenor��s return and the sessful assault on the Basilisk Isles, Rhaegar had issued a special order��a Great Council to reunite the Targaryens, bringing together all three generations. While it carried no formal agenda, it was a rare chance for the family to reconnect.


    ��Was the journey safe?�� Rhaenyra approached as Rhaegar stood to greet her.


    ��Thankfully, yes. No wild dragons tried to attack <em>Syrax</em> this time,�� she replied, her voice tinged with relief. Sitting beside him, she gently ced her youngest son, Aegor, in his arms.


    Rhaenyra��s face was drawn and weary, her smile a faint shadow of its usual warmth. The loss of their second son had struck them both deeply, leaving a lingering sorrow neither could fully shake.


    ��Everything will pass. That wild dragon won��t survive much longer,�� Rhaegar said, his voice heavy with resolve. His hand found hers, and though her fingers were cold, he held them tightly. He was confident in his words��driven by the need for vengeance, and by his pain.


    ncing up, Rhaegar saw the ck Wall teeming with the presence of their kin. Overhead, a dozen dragons soared, casting shadows over the gathered Targaryens. This was their golden age��a House at the peak of its power. They had far surpassed the reigns of the Young and Old Kings, and no force in the known world could threaten their might.


    Rhaenyra gave him a sideways nce and nudged him lightly. ��It��s a good day. You should smile more,�� she said, her eyes soft but tired, as though the weight of their grief pressed her down.


    Who wouldn''t feel the sadness? They had to lean on each other, to push through the darkness together.


    ��Give me the egg!�� Visenya suddenly appeared at Rhaegar''s feet, reaching for her brother''s small, chubby leg.


    ��Don��t call him by that nickname,�� Rhaegar said sternly, pressing a finger gently to his daughter��s forehead.


    ��But he <em>is</em> Egg!�� Visenya pouted, her hands on her hips, defiant in her stance.


    Rhaenyra raised her eyebrows, then yfully pped the back of Visenya��s head, making a soft thud.


    Visenya stepped back, biting her lip, trying to hold back tears. Despite her frustration, she managed to snatch Aegor into her arms, holding her brother as if he were her prize.


    As they settled in, the family began to rx, conversations flowing more easily, the mood lightening bit by bit.


    Aegon joined Rhaegar, wrapping an arm around his two children. Leaning in, he whispered, ��You��re heartbroken over your son��s loss. How about I send these two to you for fosterage? It��ll give you something to focus on.��


    Rhaegar frowned, his brow furrowing. ��Isn��t that <em>your</em> responsibility?�� he replied, a sharp edge in his voice. ��Keep them yourself.�� His tone left little room for argument. ck lines of irritation creased his forehead��raising other people''s children held no appeal for him.


    ��Your Grace...��


    The sisters approached Rhaenyra, gracefully serving tea and water. Rhaegar stroked his chin, his mind already drifting into deep thought. This gathering was far from over.


    Momentster, two royal ships, their sails emzoned with the three-headed red dragon, docked at the port of Vntis. Tnd, who doubled as a tutor, led a group of children ashore, guiding them carefully by the hand. Arriving were Rhaegar��s seventh and eighth children, Viserion and Daenaera, along with Daemon��s firstborn, Gaemon, and his illegitimate son, Aenar.


    In Westeros, the distinction was clear: legitimacy mattered more than birth order. Daemon had never remarried after Laena��s death, and though Aenar, born to Mysaria, was acknowledged by both his father and the royal family, he remained a bastard byw.


    As the children gathered, an unexpected figure arrived, awkwardly standing at the edge of the group.


    ��Celine,e here,�� Aemond called with a slight smile, stepping forward to take his wife��s hand.


    Celine blushed deeply, her gaze lowered, barely able to meet the eyes of anyone around her. The subtle tension between the couple drew the attention of the entire gathering, and Rhaegar and Rhaenyra exchanged knowing nces, settling back into their chairs. It was nice to sit back and watch the scene unfold, a brief moment of lightness amidst heavier matters.


    Unaware of the attention, Aemond remained focused on Celine, gently inquiring after her well-being. He pulled out a chair for her, seating her beside him. By chance��or perhaps not��he ended up seated not beside Aegon or Hena, but directly next to Laenor.


    Celine��s difort grew, her eyes catching a glimpse of her ex-husband from the corner of her eye. She stiffened, feeling as though she were sitting on pins and needles. Laenor, equally uneasy, wiped the sweat from his brow, trying to avoid her gaze.


    It wasn��t just the former spouses who were ufortable. Nearby, Daeron and Rhaena fidgeted in their seats, unsettled by the unusual gathering. After all, just weeks ago, Rhaena had been the rightful heir to Driftmark. Now, cousins, uncles, and former spouses were seated awkwardly together, the air thick with tension.


    Rhaegar took a sip of his sweet wine, watching with mild amusement as the scene yed out. The children were gathered around his feet, but for the moment, he paid them little mind, too entertained by the unusualpany.


    Baelon and Maekar, being slightly older, sat wide-eyed, observing the scene with interest. They had clearly inherited their parents'' spirit of enjoying a bit of drama.


    ��It��s a miracle that Laenor is still alive and back,�� Rhaenyra murmured under her breath, taking a slow sip of sake. Her head rested gently on Rhaegar��s broad shoulder, her delicately braided hair tickling his ear.


    ��Are we going to have a fight?��


    Lyanna, holding her younger sister Daenaera��s hand, tugged at the wings of the young purple dragon, <em>Sunny</em>. The two little girls, close in age,plemented each other perfectly, their bond stronger than the more independent Visenya.


    ��Shh, Uncle Three is very powerful,�� Daenerys whispered, putting a finger to her lips as she peered cautiously over her father��s knee. She wasn��t keen on the idea of a fight breaking out and wanted to be ready to hide if things got too intense.


    Rhaegar nced around, a softugh escaping him as he overheard the children��s yful chatter. Surrounded by his family, even with the awkward undercurrents of past rtionships andplicated bloodlines, he felt a sense of lightness.


    "Hey, hey, I''ll bet five golden dragons that Aemond is going to make a scene," Aegon said, pushing his nephew Baelon aside as he leaned in to whisper in Rhaegar''s ear. He raised an eyebrow mischievously and pulled a handful of golden dragons from his pocket.


    Rhaegar didn��t flinch. "What are we betting on this time? Teaching the children bad habits?" Without missing a beat, he reached out, snatched the coins, and scattered them among the dragon hatchlings on the ground.


    Visenya was the first to react, quickly scooping up the coins and stuffing them into Aegor��s diaper with a triumphant grin.


    "Haha!" A lowugh rumbled from the corner, drawing everyone''s attention. It was Daemon, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. He feigned innocence, covering his mouth as if to stifle moreughter, though it was clear he was enjoying the unfolding drama.


    The gathering had taken on an air of tension, with several family members watching closely, clearly expecting a confrontation. Laenor, visibly ufortable, gritted his teeth. Despite everything, he tried to remainposed. "I��m d to see you��re doing well," he said stiffly, his words directed at his former wife, Celine, though his gaze kept slipping past her, avoiding direct eye contact.


    Celine��s face flushed, and she murmured into her chest, "I��m just as surprised to see you alive." Her voice was soft, barely audible, as if the simple act of speaking to him took all the courage she had.


    Technically, they had never divorced, and the tension between them lingered like unfinished business. Even exchanging pleasantries felt like a monumental effort.


    ��Why don��t you two chat a little longer?�� Aemond cut in smoothly, stepping between the two chairs. His handnded on Laenor��s shoulder, but the gesture was far from friendly. His sharp, one-eyed gaze flicked back and forth, a glimmer of amusement in his expression. ��You��ve been apart for years. Surely, there��s plenty to catch up on?��


    Laenor��s difort deepened, but he stood his ground. ��I sincerely wish you all the best with your marriage to her,�� he said, his voice taking on a more formal tone. ��Celine is a good woman��innocent and wless like milk, as you surely know.�� The word "innocent" carried a subtle, pointed emphasis, and for a moment, Laenor��s old frustrations surfaced.


    Aemond��s lips curled into a slow, mocking smile. ��Oh? So, you know her that well?�� His voice was deliberately drawn out, his posture growing more aggressive as his grip on Laenor��s shoulder tightened. The pressure was subtle but unmistakable, and the bones in Laenor��s shoulder creaked under Aemond��s strength.


    Laenor��s face paled. ��That��s all in the past, cousin,�� he said quietly, clearly unnerved by Aemond��s intensity. He couldn��t understand why Aemond was targeting him so openly, but his sense of decorum and upbringing kept him from reacting more forcefully.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Suddenly, the light silver dragon <em>Seasmoke</em>, sensing its rider''s rising tension, let out a mighty roar as it circled above the ck Wall. The air vibrated with the sound, unsettling the already precarious atmosphere.


    But as <em>Seasmoke</em> appeared, a shadow stirred in the corner��a skeletal mud-brown dragon emerged, its rotting skin stretched over a powerful frame. Its blood-red mouth was still chewing on half a goat, and its sunken eyes gleamed with a menacing hunger. The dragon, <em>Sheepstealer</em>, kept its gaze locked on <em>Seasmoke</em>, its brown pupils narrowing as it watched the younger dragon in the sky.


    Though half the size of <em>Seasmoke</em>, <em>Sheepstealer</em> exuded a primal intensity that dwarfed its smaller counterpart. The two dragons snarled at each other, teeth bared, the air thick with the threat of a sh.


    Rhaegar, noticing the brewing conflict, sat up straighter. His violet eyes flicked toward the dark silhouette hidden within the thin clouds. Both <em>Seasmoke</em> and <em>Sheepstealer</em> sensed the same looming presence, quickly retreating, their challenge subdued for the moment.


    High above, a pair of miserable green vertical pupils gleamed from the clouds, exerting an undeniable dominance over the dragons below.


    Aemond, however, seemed oblivious to the tension between the dragons, his focus entirely on Laenor. His lips twisted into a derisive smirk. ��Cousin, do tell��how did you escape death?�� he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. ��And where have you been all these years? Selling fish?�� He exaggeratedly sniffed the air, wrinkling his nose in mock disgust before pping his hands as if to waft away an imagined stench.


    The insult hit its mark. Laenor stood up abruptly, his face flushed with anger.

 Chapter 648: The Pale Wild Dragon Shows His Tracks

    Chapter 648: The Pale Wild Dragon Shows His Tracks


    "Aren''t you weing me?" Laenor asked indignantly. "Or are you dissatisfied with your wife and taking it out on a woman?"


    He really couldn''t figure out what was going on. <em>What was the purpose of the relentless mockery?</em>


    Aemond''s expression turned cold as he said gloomily, "Compared to you, I hope it''s my poor nephew who returns."


    "Who?" Laenor was taken aback, unable to understand. He only knew that his cousin became the king, had taken the throne and fathered many children. He wasn��t even aware that one of them had met with an ident.


    "Don��t you know yet? It was half a month before you returned." Aemond''s one eye darkened as he continued in a sharp tone, "Isn��t it a coincidence that the day after the child was born, someone saw a wounded dragon on Tarth��and then you came back?"


    Aemond did not lower his voice, ensuring the entire audience could hear. ording to his inquiries, his nephew Aemon shouldn��t have been attacked by a wild dragon. There was another dragon involved, one that had been chased, and the situation clearly implicated Laenor and his dragon.


    At these words, many people��s faces changed. Rhaenys frowned and began to speak, but Laenor quickly cut her off.


    "This has nothing to do with me." Laenor felt confused and denied it vehemently. "The culprit is the wild dragon you mentioned. Seasmoke is innocent."


    "I don��t care if you��re innocent or not!" Aemond suddenly raised his voice, stepping forward and mming his chest into Laenor''s. He stared him down and said fiercely, "You��you never should havee back.""Stop it!"


    "Aemond, watch your words," Corlys and Rhaegar both interjected, one rising quickly to his feet while the other frowned slightly. Rhaegar seemed conflicted but held back from further reprimand. Some things could be said, while others could not. Just because something couldn''t be spoken didn''t make it untrue.


    Laenor��s route back was suspicious, especially since it passed near Shipbreaker Bay, where Aemon��s ident had urred. Seasmoke was also mysteriously injured. No amount of exnation could withstand close scrutiny.


    Corlys, however, red furiously at Aemond and demanded, "Are you doubting my son, or are you defying House Vryon?"


    Laenor was the face of House Vryon, and as his father, Corlys would never allow anyone to humiliate him.


    But Aemond wasn��t intimidated in the slightest. With a yful smile, he replied, "Vryon? You ask who the heir to Driftmark is, so I��ll ask you the same question."


    At these words, Daeron and Rhaena paled. In theory, they were the confirmed heirs, and Driftmark should have belonged to them. Aemond tilted his head, waiting for an answer. He had every reason to reject Laenor��his nephew��s ident, Rhaena��s im to inheritance...


    The return of a Vryon had cost his house far too much.


    "Aemond, you''ve asked your question." Rhaegar stepped in, determined to stop the growing farce. The future of House Vryon was at stake, and this was no longer a matter for casual discussion. Laenor was the most legitimate heir by virtue of his presence.


    "Your Grace, I should be the one to handle my family''s internal matters," Corlys retorted to Rhaegar, his tone firm. "My son has returned, he has done nothing wrong, and he should not be subjected to such vile usations."


    "Then how does he exin Seasmoke''s injuries?" Aemond shouted, pointing an usatory finger at Laenor''s past. "Ser Fishmonger."


    "This is nder," Laenor shot back, his eyes resolute, undeterred by the weight of the past decade.


    Corlys'' face darkened like a stormy sky. He was ready to unleash his fury on the one-eyed Aemond.


    "Have you had enough?" Rhaegar''s patience was wearing thin, his voice ttening as it grew colder. He had no time for this endless nonsense. His child was dead, and the inheritance returned to someone else. The bitterness gnawed at him, and he had no desire to prolong the argument.


    Aemond and Corlys locked eyes, the tension between them crackling like lightning.


    "It''s hot. Let��s sit down and have a drink first," Rhaenyra interjected, cing a calming hand on Rhaegar��s shoulder. She raised her ss in a conciliatory gesture. If they continued like this, the two opposing sides might not fight to the death, but the vtile situation around them was certain to explode.


    Hena pped her hands andughed softly. "Yes, we still have business to discuss."


    "Humph!" Aemond and Corlys each snorted in contempt before reluctantly returning to their seats.


    Laenor, feeling deeply depressed, switched seats with his neighbor, Daeron. Across the room, Celine covered her face and wept, and Rhaena quietly escorted her out.


    After a brief silence, the council formally convened. The topic was simple: formting a strategy for the distribution of the Basilisk Isles. All adult dragon riders in the family were to go to war, while the older children��like Baelon��would stay behind to care for their younger siblings and guard the home base at Vntis.


    This was the first time that all members of House Targaryen had visited Essos, so close to the ancientnd of Old Valyria. The threat of the Four Cities Alliance, including Braavos, loomedrge, meaning the war had to be swift. With the old king in King��s Landingmanding Vermithor but in poor health, the defense fell to Gulltown in the Vale and the White Harbor fleet in the North.


    Rhaegar raised his wine ss and said solemnly, "For the honor and prosperity of the House, I ask that you do your utmost to eradicate the remnants of the Triarchy."


    "For the House!" came the chorus, as one by one, they raised their sses and drank.


    Above them, dragons danced in the sky, roaring and weaving through the clouds. It was the dawn of a magnificent era.


    ...


    Half a monthter.


    Basilisk Isles, Isle of Tears.


    A massive fleet docked at the shore, soldiers bearing the red three-headed dragon emblem on their armor swarming ashore, their numbers no less than two thousand.


    "Roar!" Above them, a yellow jade dragon hovered in the sky, unleashing scorching golden Dragonfire.


    "Dracarys, Syrax!" Rhaenyra shouted, her eyes zing with intensity. She wore a ck dragon rider''s suit, her silver hair braided and tied back, with the n sword, <em>The Realm��s Delight</em>, strapped to her waist. At that moment, she almost embodied the regal bearing of Queen Visenya.


    The battle was about to begin, and it was quickly turning one-sided. Syrax roared with wild ferocity, showing none of the restraint of a tamed dragon. Golden mes engulfed the ind, wrapping it in a blinding halo.


    Miles away, along the southern maind coast...


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal crouched low, stretching its long neck and letting out a ferocious roar. High above, Dreamfyre, with scales the color of pale blue sky, circled slowly, almost blending with the heavens.


    "Is she always like this?" Rhaegar asked, leaning against his ck dragon.


    "Just blowing off steam," Hena replied, watching the havoc on the Isle of Tears with a smirk. "Syrax is truly a fierce golden beast."


    Rhaenyra had been under immense psychological pressure since losing her son, and this was her way of releasing it��by raining Dragonfire on the Triarchy''s pirates.


    The battle progressed swiftly. With the dragons'' help, the Royal Fleet drove the Lyseni pirates into the sea, routing them entirely. Rhaegar kept a watchful eye on the skirmish.


    "What��s the situation on Naath?" he asked.


    "The Sellswords of Tyrosh are holed up," Hena answered, tilting her head thoughtfully. "Aemond��s been burning them for seven days."


    Naath''s defense was held by the three brothers��Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron��along with their dragons. Supported by thebined fleets of Hightower, Lannister, and the Arbor, they had achieved a great victory early on. However, Naath��s natural defenses made it difficult to attack, and Tyrosh''s Sellswords were renowned fighters.


    "Quack, quack..." A ck raven swooped down,nding gracefully on Rhaegar''s shoulder. The bird twisted its neck, raising one w.


    "Tormund��s raven," Rhaegar recognized it immediately, taking the letter from its talon and reading quickly.


    War had erupted on all fronts, and the battle lines had clearly been drawn. The Triarchy pirates had been given no quarter, and the full might of their enemies bore down upon them.


    Hena leaned over, resting her chin on Rhaegar��s shoulder as she pouted yfully. "Great victory at The Axe... Wyvern remains... traces of a wild dragon?" Her voice was curious, eyes wide with interest. Despite being mothers now, both she and Rhaenyra still acted like children at times, even squabbling over food with their younger sister, Visenya.


    Rhaegar''s gaze grew distant, and he inhaled deeply. "Finally, I''ve waited long enough," he muttered. <em>Damn that wild dragon. It was really were hiding in in sight all this time.</em>


    "I��ll go with you," Hena said eagerly, turning toward Dreamfyre.


    "No," Rhaegar refused tly, concern shadowing his face. "You stay with Rhaenyra. Caraxes, Meleys, and me are enough."


    Daemon and Rhaenys were already stationed at The Axe with their children, and thebined strength of two prime-aged dragons and an adult dragon made for formidablebat power. By the time the Cannibal arrived, the wild dragon would surely be in.


    "Be a good girl, and I''ll bring you back some special treats," Rhaegar teased, pinching Hena��s soft cheek and giving her a yful smack.


    Hena blushed, her face reddening. Since giving birth to her two children, much of the pressure from the uncertain future had lifted, allowing her to reim some of the carefree joy of her younger days��something her young dragons adored.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal shook itself, pping its massive wings to scatter the dirt clinging to its scales. With a powerful thrust, it took to the sky, carrying its rider toward the distant battle.


    ...


    Half a dayter...


    The Axe, In a mountain range.


    A faint rustling echoed through the steep mountains. The jungle shrubs swayed violently, their green leaves withering and falling at a speed visible to the naked eye. A pungent stench of decay filled the air, spreading across thendscape for nearly a kilometer.


    Small animals foraging nearby froze in terror as the foul odor reached them.


    Grunting...


    A pale dragon��s head emerged from the jungle, its blood-stained mouth crunching down on an ugly lizard crushed into the mud. One of its eye sockets was an open, bloody wound, mangled and grotesque. The creature looked like a demon straight from the depths of hell.


    "Roar..."


    Suddenly, a huge, dark red serpent-like beast flew overhead, emitting a sharp, continuous hiss as it passed. The pale dragon��s heady motionless on the ground, its remaining eye tracking the serpent-like creature as it disappeared over the mountains, where itnded among the bushes, panting heavily.


    "Roar!"


    A pale silver dragon streaked by, its wings pping softly as it slowed its pace. The pale wild dragon��s pupils shrank, and its fangs dripped with saliva.


    Zi, zi...


    The drops of its putrid saliva fell to the ground, burning through the leaves and scorching the earth. The dragon wasn��t just wounded��its entire body reeked of rot, as though the flesh beneath its scales was decaying inch by inch, maggots feasting on the festering wounds.


    "Roar..."


    The pale wild dragon shook its head, its bony wings trembling as it slowly crawled toward its den in the mountain.


    The dorsal fin along its lower abdomen scraped the earth, leaving a jagged furrow in its wake. Despite its hideous appearance, the dragon��s body was strangely slender, and the pale, marble-like scales glimmered in patches where they weren��t rotting.


    But its head��twisted into a sickly visage of madness and ferocity��looked like the face of death itself.


    Boom!


    A gust of wind ripped through the jungle, tearing apartrge sections of the canopy and spreading the choking smell of ash. The pale wild dragon��s pupils contracted as it tensed, raising its head in what almost seemed like human surprise.


    Crack!


    A tall tree snapped, its dense vines tumbling down like thin, writhing snakes, covering the pale scales.


    In the next instant, a massive pair of pitch-ck wings, as wide as the sky itself, blotted out the sun.


    ��Be careful, Cannibal,�� Rhaegar��s voice called down from above, his gaze sweeping over the hidden den below. He searched the terrain, alert.


    The Cannibal''s glowing green eyes peered down with disdain. It snorted, pped its massive wings, and soared higher into the clouds.


    "Roar..."


    The pale wild dragon exhaled a foul breath, shaking free of the clinging vines and quickening its crawl. But as it moved, the sky darkened again.


    The ck dragon returned, its green vertical pupils glowing with menace. Swinging its head from side to side, it red down at the jungle below, scanning for the elusive prey.

 Chapter 649: A Feast Divided Among Dragons

    Chapter 649: A Feast Divided Among Dragons


    As far as the eye could see, the dense jungle trembled slightly, revealing a sharp dragon''s tail as pale as marble.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal roared fiercely, puffing out its chest as it dove at high speed.


    Rhaegar''s body shook as the pale color burst into his vision, and he immediately shouted, "Attack! Don��t let it get away!"


    <em>I found it!</em>


    <em>I finally ran into it!</em>


    "Roar..."


    The pale Dragonfire burst from the jungle, its emaciated body charging forward, tattered wings pping desperately in an attempt to escape.


    Boom!The Cannibal did not dodge or avoid; instead, it crashed head-on into the searing Dragonfire, opening its enormous abyssal maw in pursuit.


    The pale wild dragon nced back, its vertical pupils filled with disbelief. Behind it, the giant dragon was covered in hard, jet-ck scales that glistened with a metallic sheen in the firelight. It was strong and fierce, like a colossus carved from Dragonstone.


    "Roar...."


    A shrill dragon roar, like a sonic wave, squeezed from its throat as its tattered wings beat hard, its sinuous body rising into the air.


    Among dragons of the same size, the burly ones had more explosive power than the slender ones. The size difference between the two was immense��more than double��and the gap in fighting ability was like night and day.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal��s green pupils glowed with excitement as it pped its wings, its thick tail sweeping through the jungle. It could sense it��the decrepit old dragon was a Dragoneater, a species that devoured its own kind.


    Normally, Dragoneaters were rare, with only one appearing in a generation. But when two Dragoneaters met in the same era, the cruel nature in their blood would erupt. The other was the best nutrient for their growth.


    "Dracarys!" Rhaegar''s heart surged with excitement, his murderous intent impossible to hide.


    The two enormous beasts��one white, one ck��soared into the sky together like yin and yang, circling each other in perfect bnce.


    Boom!


    The pale wild dragon dove headlong into the clouds, its tattered scales blending perfectly with the thick mist. The Cannibal slowed its pace, clearing a path with a pir of eerie green dragonfire.


    "Roar..." The Cannibal streaked through the sky like a dark meteor, its massive body engulfing the Pale Wild Dragon. Its jaws opened wide, aiming for the dragon''s neck.


    Boom!


    The Pale Wild Dragon suddenly twisted, spewing pale Dragonfire from its head as it coiled its long body into a bow shape. The mes, however, missed the ck scales.


    Sizzle!


    At thest second, the Cannibal reacted with lightning speed, shifting its attack. Instead of striking with its jaws, itshed out with its hind legs, the ws strong enough to split mountains and crush stone, hooking into the pale dragon��s back.


    Large pieces of scales shattered, and foul dragon blood sprayed into the air.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal let out a long howl, tilting its head back as its ws gripped its opponent fiercely. It spun through the air like a ck falcon, twisting with brutal precision. Its massive body carved a semicircle in the sky, dragon wings beating with all their might.


    With a sickening <em>rip</em> of flesh and bone separating, the pale wild dragon was flung away like a kite with its string cut.


    "Dracarys, Cannibal!" Rhaegar''s voice cracked as he roared hoarsely, his body trembling. The emotions of man and dragon intertwined, the desire to hunt rising like a storm. <em>Today, there will be no rest until death!</em>


    "Grunting..." The Cannibal regained its bnce, mouth wide open as it swallowed the chunk of flesh torn from the pale dragon, sending a torrent of searing heat from its nostrils.


    In the next moment, the Tyrant of Dragons, its mind consumed with hunger, dove downward. A st of greenish Dragonfire, like burning ash, showered the battlefield.


    The pale wild dragon, still reeling from the fall, was engulfed in the mes. Its grey-white wings pped in slow, rusted movements.


    Drip... Drip...


    It nced back, seeing two deep, bloody pits gouged into its back, blood flowing endlessly. Its wings, pping weakly on either side of the wounds, exposed its dark shoulder des to the air. The dragon''s body, already emaciated, was barely covered by a thinyer of scales. <em>No wonder it couldn��t fly...</em>


    Boom!


    The ck dragon swooped down, its ferocious jaws mming into the slender dragon''s neck, fangs sinking deep into the scales.


    "Roar..."


    The pale dragon writhed helplessly as the Cannibal��s fangs crushed into its flesh. "Well done, Cannibal," Rhaegar murmured, watching with cold intensity as the Pale Wild Dragon endured every moment of its agony. Without issuing anothermand, he stood still, waiting for death to im his foe.


    The Pale Wild Dragon had killed Aemon and his dragon��now, it was paying with its life.


    Crunch...


    The Cannibal��s green, vertical pupils were pitiless as its massive jaws slowly closed around its opponent''s neck, the abyss devouring it bit by bit.


    "Sss... Roar..."


    Suddenly, the pale wild dragon thrashed wildly, its slender body coiling like a snake as it climbed onto the Cannibal''s chest. Its sharp ws pierced through the solid ck scales with a loud crack. Blood sprayed as the pale dragon��s desperate attacknded, staining the air with crimson droplets.


    "Sss... Roar..."


    The Cannibal roared in pain, mping its jaws even tighter as sticky, green Dragonfire spewed from its mouth. The pale wild dragon, its consciousness fading as it neared death, opened its massive jaws. The ferocity of the Dragoneater surged within it, triggering an instinctual,st-ditch counterattack.


    Its ws dug deeper into the Cannibal��s searing flesh, desperately trying to tear out its opponent''s entrails.


    For a brief moment, the green vertical pupils of the Cannibal turned cold. Its chest musclespressed with force as it sank its teeth further into the pale dragon.


    "Release it!" Rhaegar suddenlymanded, yanking hard on the reins that controlled the dragon.


    A flicker of surprise crossed the Cannibal''s eyes, but it obeyed. Twisting its neck, it loosened its grip on the dying dragon and, with a powerful p of its wings, kicked the pale wild dragon away with brutal force.


    Boom!


    The Cannibal��srge w struck its opponent��s waist, and the pale wild dragon let out a miserable shriek, its body tumbling uncontrobly through the air. The vicious blows to both its upper and lower body had left it nearly paralyzed.


    The Cannibal prepared to pounce again, but a sharp tug on the reins stopped it in its tracks.


    "Let it run, mate," Rhaegar''s voice was as cold as winter frost, his face ashen. There was no need to chase a crippled foe. This Dragoneater would die soon enough��and it would suffer in the most agonizing way.


    "Roar..."


    The pale wild dragon plummeted, barely managing to slow its descent before crashing into the jungle with a thunderous noise, knocking down trees in a wide swath.


    For a long moment, there was silence. Then, slowly, the pale wild dragon raised its head, shaking it in a daze. With what little sanity remained, it pped its battered wings and began to soar low across the horizon, fleeing toward the distance.


    Its survival instinct drove it now, carrying it toward the sea��back to thend of its birth.


    ...


    Basilisk Isles.


    The Pale Wild Dragon gasped heavily, its wounds oozing blood as it desperately tried to speed up. It flew over the scattered inds of the Basilisk Isles, heading straight for the distant coast at the edge of the continent of Sothoryos.


    <em>Whoosh</em>


    The ancient sound of a horn echoed across the azure sky.


    A dragon as ck as coal soared through the clouds, its vast wings blotting out the blinding sun and casting a massive shadow over the Pale Wild Dragon.


    "Roar..."


    "Roar!"


    The ck dragon��s roar reverberated in every direction like rolling thunder. The Pale Wild Dragon��s dull pupils flickered with a spark of light as it heard the horn, urging itself to fly harder. But just momentster, its shoulder des snapped, and its massive body plummeted uncontrobly.


    With a thunderous crash, itnded on an ind in the middle of the sea, miraculously surviving the fall. The ind was overgrown with shrubs, and the coast of Sothoryos was several miles away. Beyond the azure waters, a green-capped sleeping volcano towered on the horizon, overlooking a deep, bottomless canyon.


    "Chirp, chirp..."


    A flock of birds fluttered around, scavenging pale bone fragments from the dragon''s crash, hiding them in the bushes to build their nests.


    "Roar..."


    The Pale Wild Dragony in a daze, staring in awe at the scene before it. Its emaciated body was twisted unnaturally, and foul-smelling blood oozed from its jagged mouth of broken teeth. Shadows crept over it, slowly enveloping its narrow, vertical pupils.


    A dragon��s w, ck as coal, came into view, crushing down on the Pale Wild Dragon��s head.


    "Eat it," Rhaegar muttered coldly, his voice as unforgiving as steel. "Let it atone for the mistakes it made."


    The Cannibal��s green vertical pupils gleamed with grim satisfaction. It lowered its head and bit into the Pale Wild Dragon��s neck, its fangs sinking deep, the sound of bones cracking echoing across the ind.


    "Roar... crack..."


    The Pale Wild Dragon��sst cry was weak and melodic, its vertical pupils slowly closing as it sumbed to its fate.


    "Roar..."


    With a final, sickening <em>snap</em>, the ck dragon crushed the Pale Wild Dragon��s neck. Its monstrous jaws mped down, tearing the bloodied head from its body. Blood sprayed into the air, staining the blue sky a deep red before falling to the ground, where it corroded the withered soil below.


    The crazed Dragoneater had fallen, lifeless, its body spewing blood like a fountain from its broken neck.


    "You deserve to die," Rhaegar whispered, his violet eyes deep and cold as a pool of still water. His face was sttered with blood, but his gaze remained fixed. He saw something.


    "Croak~~"


    A dull, grey dream toady on its back, mouth wide open as it inhaled wisps of grey smoke. The smoke drifted from the lifeless head of the Pale Wild Dragon, its eyes closed forever.


    Rhaegar''s eyes were wide open, his calm breathing now slightlybored. Fragments of a dream not his own began to seep into his mind.


    A dark cave, a canyon with a winding stream, the rotting corpse of a dragon...


    A pale young dragon with a deformed body hatched from a greyish-white egg. Its body was thin and snake-like, thick fangs pushing its jaws apart, and its horns twisted together in a grotesque tangle.


    "Another failure."


    "Catch it��we can still raise it."


    A familiar red-robed man entered the scene, grabbing the pale young dragon by the neck and carrying it off like a helpless chick.


    The scene shifted.


    The skinny pale wild dragon lived among the towering Fourteen mes, devouring young dragons and dragon eggs. Driven away by its kin, it was forcibly domesticated by humans. Its temperament grew increasingly deranged until, one day, it bit the rider on its back and fled to the barren continent of its birth.


    <em>Pop~~</em>


    The dream fragments shattered like soap bubbles, and the final image showed the pale dragon, stained with blood, biting a young green dragon to pieces.


    <em>Kacha��</em>


    A sharp cracking sound rang in Rhaegar��s ears, jolting him from the dream. The Cannibal had snapped the Pale Wild Dragon��s head in its powerful jaws, swallowing it in two bites, licking its lips with a scarlet tongue.


    "Roar!"


    "Roar..."


    The skies echoed with the roars of circling dragons, watching a the corpse the wild dragon fell. The Cannibal''s green vertical pupils shed with disdain as it spat a mouthful of Dragonfire at the remains, then flew away with a leisurely p of its wings.


    Click.


    Caraxes and Meleys were the first tond, tearing apart the grey dragon��s wings from both sides, blood dripping from their jaws as they chewed the flesh. Syrax and Sunfyre arrivedst, wing open the belly of the corpse, their golden heads diving in to devour the entrails.


    In no time, the entire body was dismembered.


    "Roar!"


    In the distance, an ugly, rotting mud dragony chewing on a half-charred human corpse, its vertical pupils filled with confusion. <em>Is that thing even edible?</em>


    Above them, Dreamfyre circled slowly, its docile nature keeping it from joining the feast. Nearby, Seasmoke and Tessarion hovered impatiently, but neither dared to challenge the four dragons below.


    Rhaegar silently watched the scene unfold, absently stroking the dark scales beneath him. The Pale Wild Dragon��s name was unknown, but it had hatched from the same clutch of eggs as Uragax. Though decades apart in age, both were aberrations��gic experiments. Uragax had been a rtive sess, but the Pale Wild Dragon suffered from mental and physical defects.


    "Roar..." The Cannibal growled, its blood boiling with excess energy that begged for release.


    The Pale Wild Dragon had been very old, at least two hundred years, its flesh dry and aging. It held a medicinal quality that hastened ripening, making it unsuitable for adult dragons to eat, yet dangerously alluring to younger and middle-aged dragons.


    "Roar!"


    Syrax, typically gentle, plucked a dark red dragon heart from the remains and swallowed it whole.


    On her dragon��s back, Rhaenyra watched with fierce eyes brimming with tears.


    The great revenge had been taken.

 Chapter 650: Red Dragon of the Great Grass Sea

    Chapter 650: Red Dragon of the Great Grass Sea


    Sothoryos Continent, Naath Ind.


    "Roar!"


    From the jagged beach, the ck dragon bellowed in rage, unleashing pirs of eerie green Dragonfire.


    "Come out, all of you!" Rhaegar��s voice boomed, dark with fury, as he rode atop the dragon��s back.


    The surroundingndscape transformed into a hellish scene. Strange rock formations melted into pools ofva as the entire beach was engulfed in smoke and fire.


    The Cannibal��s green pupils gleamed with cruelty. Its snout sniffed the air, searching for the scent of prey hidden in caves. With deadly precision, it aimed its Dragonfire.


    <em>Whoosh!</em>


    A volley of arrows struck its bloodied muzzle, sparks flying on impact.


    "Roar!"The Cannibal grew more excited, its massive jaws mming into the cave entrance, causing the mountain of rocks to shake violently. Rhaegar, seated in his saddle, enveloped by the dragon��s dark wings, swayed slightly as the beast��s ferocity intensified.


    Having devoured the Pale Wild Dragon, the Cannibal��s bloodlust demanded an outlet. It would unleash its fury on thest remnants of resistance in the Basilisk Isles, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake.


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, two more dragons��one golden, one light blue��descended from the sky, joining the carnage.


    "Dracarys!"


    Rhaenyra''s cold voice echoed through the chaos as she steered Syrax toward the pirate hideouts buried in the strange rock formations. The Triarchy pirates had no escape. Naath, though remote and rich in resources, had be their final refuge. Now, they cowered in the cold, damp tunnels beneath the mountain, trapped like rats.


    Henanded gracefully at the summit atop Dreamfyre. The majestic dragon��s head held high, its light blue scales gleaming in the sunlight, while the Cannibal towered over the battlefield like a dark colossus.


    Rhaegar nced upward, watching as Dreamfyre��s light blue Dragonfire cascaded down the mountainside like a waterfall, reducing everything in its path to ash.


    "Lord Corlys has alreadyunched the main assault. There��s nothing left to worry about," Hena remarked casually, lying across Dreamfyre��s back, her chin resting in her hands. The dragon stood protectively still, ensuring its yful rider was safe.


    Rhaegar waved in acknowledgment, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The death of the Pale Wild Dragon had lifted a heavy burden from his heart.


    As he looked toward Rhaenyra and Hena, who hade to join the battle, a sense of warmth welled up inside him. <em>This is what it meant to be a conqueror</em>, he thought.


    ...


    Time passed swiftly, and a monthter, the skies were clear and cloudless. The hot climate of the Summer Sea lingered, the gently rippling water distorted by the rising heat.


    Basilisk Isles.


    A lone pirate ship, flying a white g of surrender, sailed slowly out of the harbor. Kneeling on the deck, the bearded leader of Myr addressed the Iron Throne with a somber face.


    ��Please ept our surrender, Your Grace of the Iron Throne,�� he said in Valyrian, his voice filled with defeat.


    This act marked the fall of the Triarchy. The dragons had encircled the Basilisk Isles, cutting off every escape route. Tens of thousands of people were trapped on the barren inds, resorting to cannibalism as their food supplies ran out. If they didn��t surrender, mutiny would surely follow.


    Rhaegar stood tall, his family sword, ckfyre, nted firmly in the ground before him. His voice was as cold as ice.


    ��Do you understand the consequences of defying me again and again?��


    ��We will offer you countless riches,�� the mustachioed pirate leader replied, bowing his head deeply. His sallow face was pale with hunger��he hadn��t eaten in three days.


    ��Your wealth was stolen from my subjects,�� Rhaegar retorted sharply, his eyes narrowing in disdain.


    Nearby, Daemon watched silently, his expression calm. Holding Dark Sister, his own Valyrian steel de, in one hand, he nonchntly wiped the dirt from his cloak. The two men��uncle and nephew��exchanged a nce, the air between them filled with an unspoken chill.


    ��I ept your surrender,�� Rhaegar finally dered, raising his chin imperiously. ��But you will leave all your wealth behind on the Isle of Tears.��


    ��No problem,�� the pirate leader responded eagerly, his gray eyes lighting up with hope. Yet after a brief pause, his cunning instincts surfaced. He dared to negotiate.


    ��Your Grace, the treasure is yours. But allow us to return to the continent of Essos.��


    Perhaps their move to Sothoryos had been a grave mistake. Returning to the wealthier, more fertile Essos might allow them to rebuild and resume their pirating ways.


    Rhaegar looked down at him, a small smile ying on his lips. ��Granted. You have three days to withdraw your forces. Women, children, and ves may leave slowly.��


    ��Thank you, Your Grace, for your mercy!�� the pirate leader gushed, relief flooding his voice. With trembling hands, he epted a wooden box from one of his subordinates and presented it to Rhaegar. When opened, it was full of gold nuggets and precious stones.


    ��Now get lost,�� Rhaegar snapped, his expression darkening as he took the heavy box.


    The mustachioed man wasted no time. He fled back to his pirate ship, terrified that at any moment, if he lingered, he might end up as dragon food.


    ...


    Two and a half days passed.


    An overstuffed fleet of more than a hundred ships sailed sluggishly across the Summer Sea. The haphazard collection ofrge and small vessels looked almostical, crammed with thirty thousand souls, all clinging to the hope of returning to their homnd.


    ��Haha, it��s all thanks to me!�� the mustachioed leader boasted, staggering drunkenly across the deck. He strutted about, spinning the surrender negotiations into a tale of heroic struggle, full of bravado, with no trace of the fear or humility he had shown just days before.


    The sellswords and piratesughed in unison, cheering his exaggerated ount. Whether or not his story was true mattered little. The fact they had escaped was reason enough to celebrate.


    The fleet was in disarray,cking any discipline, and no one noticed the shadow creeping over them.


    "Dracarys!"


    The voice was clear but eerily soft, carrying across the water to every ear.


    ��Huh?�� The mustachioed man nced up, blinking in drunken confusion. His blurred vision couldn��t make out the threat, not until the heat seared his skin. Then he saw it��green mes raining down from the sky.


    "Roar..."


    A monstrous dragon, ck as coal, descended from the heavens. Its eerie green eyes, like the ghostly fire of death, gleamed as it unleashed a torrent of Dragonfire that consumed hundreds of the overcrowded ships in an instant.


    "Dragon!"


    "It��s the Deathwing! Jump into the sea!"


    "Ah! The fire!"


    The ash-colored Dragonfire spread like a gue, whipped by the wind, clinging to every ship like melted wax on a candle. Chaos erupted as the fleet was engulfed in mes.


    Rhaegar, watching from above, allowed a small smile to y on his lips. He reached into a pouch, grabbed a handful of golden coins, and tossed them into the sea.


    "Money?" he said with a sneer. "It won��t buy your lives."


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal soared into the sky, its massive form cutting through the clouds as it turned toward Vntis, leaving behind a sea of mes.


    Below, the fire raged, turning the once-proud fleet into a burning, green inferno.


    "Roar!"


    "Roar..."


    Two scarlet dragons appeared from the sky, their fiery breath scorching the water below. They strafed the sea, incinerating the pirates who had leapt from their burning ships in a desperate bid to survive.


    For a time, the air was filled with the wails of the doomed and the despair of the dying, their cries blending into a macabre symphony. Between the red and green mes, a tune of destruction, not of this world, yed its final, haunting notes.


    ...


    The Cannibal soared across the Summer Sea and descended within the ck Walls of Vntis.


    "Roar~~"


    Nearby, a yellow jade dragony curled on its side, its massive body coiled into a ball. Its vertical pupils were tightly shut, and it let out azy, low snore.


    "Father!" Baelon��s eyes lit up as he spotted Rhaegar, surrounded by his younger siblings.


    Rhaegar dismounted from the Cannibal, shrugging off his ck robe that still smelled of dragon. The war was over. The remnants of the Triarchyy either dead or defeated, no longer a threat.


    "Did it work?" Rhaenyra appeared from behind Syrax, a smile on her lips as she approached. She took Rhaegar��s robe, now dirtied from the journey, and draped it over her arm with a gentle motion.


    Rhaegar leaned in, nting a kiss on her cheek. "Think about what to do with the Basilisk Isles."


    Blushing, Rhaenyra nced at the children and turned her head, embarrassed. "The children are still here!"


    "Can we go back now?" Visenya skipped over, one arm slung casually around Aegor''s neck, the poor child looking half-hung and ragged as he dangled like a limp rag doll.


    "Visenya!" Rhaenyra gasped, quickly rescuing her youngest son from her sister��s mischievous hold.


    Rhaegar''s face darkened, and with a quick nod, he signaled Baelon to handle Visenya. Without hesitation, Baelon and Maekar nked their sister, dragging her away with synchronized precision.


    "Hee hee..." The other children giggled, delighted to see Visenya getting into trouble.


    Rhaegar nced around, then leaned close to Rhaenyra and whispered in her ear, "Are you sure you want to bring all the children back to King''s Landing? It''s not just our eight dragons��you��ve got Daemon��s and Aegon��s children too. Ba and Rhaena, Jaehaerys, Jaehaera..."


    "Of course," Rhaenyra replied, her earlobes turning a soft red, warmth shing in her eyes. "I want my children by my side, where I can train them to be the best dragonriders in history."


    After enduring another brutal battle and the devastating loss of a beloved son, Rhaenyra had matured. Her once fiery temperament had cooled, and she now carried herself with the wisdom of someone who had seen life��s harshest lessons. Like the great queens Visenya and Alysanne, she knew her path. She would raise their children, nurture their legacy, and build a dynasty of exceptional dragonriders for House Targaryen.


    Rhaegar blinked in surprise. He hadn��t expected such insight from her; she had always seemed so headstrong and reckless.


    "Stop looking at me like that," Rhaenyra said with a smirk, crossing her arms beneath her full, regal figure. Her posture wasmanding, her tone confident. "I will take care of them, and history will remember me as the greatest queen there ever was."


    Rhaegar chuckled, shaking his head. "King''s Landing Kindergarten."


    ...


    Night falls.


    The Dothraki Great Grass Sea, beside a quiet stream.


    "Hurry, wash my horse!"


    A harsh voice cracked the night, followed by the snap of a whip.


    A silver-haired boy, pale and gaunt, stumbled to the stream, carrying a heavy bucket. His trembling hands brushed the horse of a young Bloodrider, his movements mechanical. He wore rough hemp clothing, his back crisscrossed with fresh and old scars. His once-vivid purple eyes were now dull and lifeless, as if he''d forgotten what pain felt like.


    As the night deepened, the moon cast a cold, silvery glow over the camp. Men and women gathered around the fire, engaging in wild revelry��some feasting on half-cooked flesh, others lost in frenzied acts of intercourse. Now and then, the sound of swords shing pierced the air as they fought over rank, their savage nature fully unleashed.


    The Khal yawned, uninterested, and strolled back to his tent, pulling a newly captured ve girl with him. The Bloodriders slowly dispersed, some taking turns to keep watch, while others rested.


    "Cuckoo, cuckoo..." A lone cuckoo fluttered down into the grass, pecking at seeds to fill its belly.


    A small figure darted past, weaving through the shadows toward the young Bloodrider''s tent.


    <em>Hoo hoo hoo...</em>


    The silver-haired boy crouched near the tent, listening intently to the rhythmic snoring inside. His fingers brushed against the dragon-head pendant hanging from his neck, a relic of a life long lost.


    <em>Hum...</em>


    In a whisper of magic, the n sword, <em>Truefyre,</em> appeared in his hand. The ruby embedded in the hilt was dull, its once-bright gleam long faded. He stared at the ck de, running his fingers along its cold edge.


    This sword had saved him. After he had fallen into the sea, it had protected him, keeping him afloat until he was rescued by fishermen on the other side of the Narrow Sea.


    "Father, mother, I''m sorry..."


    His voice cracked, hoarse with disuse, and tears silently trickled down his cheeks. His dragon was dead, its throat ripped open and its body thrown into the sea, and he''d been left to rot among the Dothraki, treated as less than human. A broken boy, no longer worthy of life.


    <em>It would be better to die.</em>


    His left hand hovered over the tent curtain, the reflection of his dark sword resolute in the moonlight.


    ��What are you doing?��


    The curtain had barely been lifted when a clear voice startled the silver-haired boy. He spun around, gripping the long sword tightly. In an instant, the tip of the de hovered against the ck-haired girl��s throat.


    Leah nced at the sword, unperturbed. She gently pushed the cold steel away, her eyes gleaming with envy. ��Is this Valyrian steel? You actually have one.�� Her Valyrian was clumsy, the words awkward on her tongue.


    ��I��ll kill you,�� the boy muttered, repositioning the sword as if to make good on his threat, though his voicecked the conviction.


    ��You��re crying,�� Leah observed, tilting her head and poking a dirty finger toward the corner of his eye.


    The boy flinched but said nothing. Despite the dirt and grime, there was no denying that his gaunt face held a certain beauty, and his violet eyes were strikingly intense.


    ��Your mother must have been a great beauty,�� Leah said, her voice soft with wonder.


    ��Nonsense,�� the boy snapped after a brief pause, his cheeks flushing. ��I��m not crying.��


    ��But you��re shedding tears,�� Leah replied matter-of-factly. She wiped away one of the tears with her finger, then, to his horror, brought it to her mouth, tasting it. ��Salty.��


    The boy��s face twisted in anger, his teeth clenched. ��Get away from me, or I��ll kill you too,�� he growled.


    Had she not given him horse meat and helped with the herding, he might have killed her already. <em>Dothraki women are like wild animals,</em> he thought bitterly.


    ��Who are you going to kill?�� Leah teased, her lips curling into an innocent smile. ��You��re the one who gets beaten up every day. No wonder you want to die.��


    Her words cut deep. He could feel his face burning with shame��she had seen through him. Many ves found ways to end their suffering, but attempting to kill a Bloodrider? That was nearly unheard of.


    ��Just stay alive,�� Leah said seriously. ��My father said he won��t sell you. He��ll feed you until you��re plump and healthy.��


    ��What?�� the boy asked, confused.


    ��You have to live,�� Leah exined bluntly. ��When the tribe��s poor, we��ll sell you for a good price.��


    The boy hesitated, his hands tightening around the sword hilt. With a scowl, he turned and started walking back toward the small tent. <em>I��d rather die than live in this humiliation.</em>


    ��He won��t hit you again,�� Leah called after him, standing still. She didn��t try to stop him, but her voice held an odd, gentle persuasion.


    He didn��t respond, and the sword in his hand��<em>Truefyre</em>��began to warm, as if reacting to his turmoil. The night was eerily quiet, broken only by the distant sounds of Dothraki men and women engaged in their savage pleasures.


    <em>Boom.</em>


    A breeze ruffled the boy��s silver-blonde hair, and he froze, a sense of foreboding washing over him.


    ��Roar!��


    A dark red shadow shot across the night sky, glowing like a ruby against the stars. A high-pitched screech echoed above, barely audible amidst the Dothraki��s noise, like the faint cooing of a cuckoo.


    The boy��s pupils narrowed in shock. He stared upward, his heart pounding as the crimson blur streaked east, disappearing into the vastness of the Great Grass Sea.


    ��What are you looking at?�� Leah asked, ncing from east to west with a curious smile. ��Do you want to live?��


    ��Maybe...�� the boy murmured absently, lost in thought as he continued to gaze at the sky.


    Leah leaned in, sniffing at him with a yful wrinkle of her nose. ��They say dragons are powerful... but they sure do stink.��


    The boy hesitated at her words, but then, for the first time in what felt like forever, a faint smile touched his lips.


    ��My name is Aemon,�� he said softly, meeting her eyes. ��Aemon Targaryen.��

 Chapter 651: Who Will Be the Hand of the King?

    Chapter 651: Who Will Be the Hand of the King?


    King��s Landing.


    It was July, and the heat was oppressive. The waves of ckwater Bayppedzily against the shore, powerless to ease the stifling summer air.


    Red Keep, Godswood.


    The towering Weirwood stood majestically, its crimson leaves spreading like a vast canopy, casting deep shadows over the exposed roots on the raised ground below. Rhaegar stood beneath it, his palms pressed against the pale, rough bark. His expression was calm, betraying no hint of difort.


    ��Your Grace, you wanted to see me?��


    Daeron entered through the back door, his eyes clear and expectant.


    "I don��t expect you to call me ��Your Grace�� in private," Rhaegar said with a lightugh, turning to face his brother.


    Daeron paused briefly, then smiled. "Brother."


    Among the siblings, Daeron was known for his gentle and humble nature. He had few ambitions of his own and often followed in his brothers'' footsteps.Rhaegar found a thick tree root to sit on and gestured to the ground beside him. ��I want to talk to you about who should govern the Basilisk Isles.��


    Daeron sat down, his brow furrowed in thought. ��That��s no easy ce to rule,�� he said thoughtfully.


    ��Precisely,�� Rhaegar agreed, his expression turning serious. ��Which is why it needs careful management. I want to appoint you as governor of the Summer Sea and adviser to the Basilisk Isles.��


    The pirates of the Triarchy had been all but annihted, and the remnants of their forces no longer posed a threat. However, tens of thousands of women, children, and ves remained on the Basilisk Isles. Three fledgling Free Cities had already been established. Leaving them unchecked could sow the seeds of future chaos.


    Someone wise and patient needed to oversee the region��a task that demanded trust and skill.


    Daeron hesitated. ��Brother, Sothoryos is deste.��


    ��I��m not asking you to live there,�� Rhaegar replied firmly. ��Just keep an eye on things. Choose one of the inds where the Free Cities are taking root. The ves there will be the new settlers, reiming thend.��


    It was impractical to move the ves elsewhere, as they were a valuable, though low-status, poption. Having them continue to build on the foundationsid by the Triarchy was the best course of action.


    Seeing his brother��s determination, Daeron gave a reluctant nod. ��I��ll try.��


    All his brothers had fiefdoms, and although the Basilisk Isles were a far cry from the fertilends of Westeros, Daeron knew he couldn��t avoid his duty. If things became difficult, he could always rely on Aegon. His reputation as <em>Aegon the Generous</em> extended beyond the Seven Kingdoms.


    Rhaegar grinned and ruffled his brother��s hair. ��Show a little spirit. The Basilisk Isles aren��t so bad. They have maritime trade routes and plenty of resources. Give it time, and it��ll thrive.��


    With the Triarchy��s downfall, the hard work of establishing order in the isles had already been done. Rhaegar had saved years of effort. If not for Rhaena losing her im to Driftmark, Daeron wouldn��t even need to move. Rhaegar had initially thought of entrusting the isles to Tnd and bringing them under Vntis��s jurisdiction, but now Daeron was the right fit.


    Daeron, still tousled from Rhaegar��s yful gesture, chuckled. ��Then you��ll need to give me some funds from the treasury.��


    Rhaegar waved dismissively. ��No problem. Just dip into Lyman��s coffers.��


    ��You��re the king!��


    ��...��


    The brothers burst intoughter, the sound of their yful banter filling the Godswood as they pulled pranks and teased each other beneath the great Weirwood tree.


    ...


    It was midday, just after lunch, when the Small Council was summoned. Rhaegar entered the council hall, feeling somewhat listless. The room was already filled with ministers, their faces unusually grave.


    "Your Grace!" they greeted in unison, standing to show respect.


    Rhaegar nced around, noticing his father, Viserys, and his uncle, Daemon. Viserys was deeply involved in politics, while Daemon held the prestigious title of Prince of the Targaryens.


    ��What��s happened?�� Rhaegar asked, his gaze moving between them.


    Grand Maester Orwylestepped forward, his expression troubled. ��Your Grace, there��s been an issue with the reconstruction of Storm��s End. Rumors are circting about ghosts crying out from the ruins. It��s not only stalled progress but has scared off many of the craftsmen.��


    Rhaegar, halfway to his seat, paused and let out a softugh. ��Ghosts causing trouble? Really?��


    He found the idea absurd, but the solemn faces of the council indicated otherwise. <em>Restless spirits</em>, he thought, <em>what a reputation</em>.


    ��That��s what I��ve been told, Your Grace,�� Orr said cautiously.


    Rhaegar waved dismissively. ��Sit down. If the craftsmen have left, recruit a new batch. I��ll send Aemond to take a dragon and circle the ruins. That should quiet any ghosts.��


    He didn��t believe in such superstitions. People��s hearts could be treacherous, but ghosts? That was a step too far. The dead had already faced fire��what more could they want?


    ��Your Grace, there may be more to it than superstition,�� Jasper, the Master of Laws, interjected quietly.


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow. ��What exactly is wrong, Lord Jasper?��


    Jasper hesitated, then spoke cautiously. ��The House of Baratheon has ruled the Stornds for over a century. Many branches of the family remain with Baratheon blood. Rebuilding a Prince��s Pce at Storm��s End... may provoke them. Some nobles in the Stornds don��t wish to be absorbed into the Crownds.��


    Rhaegar leaned back in his chair, feigning sudden realization. ��Ah, so it��s a difficult situation?��


    Jasper smiled, taking Rhaegar��s response as a sign of agreement. ��Your Grace is wise.��


    But Rhaegar��s expression shifted, turning hard. ��If it��s difficult, then send someone capable to oversee it until the Prince��s Pce is finished.��


    The Stornds, as a neighboring region to the Crownds, <em>had</em> to be brought under royal control. Strengthening centralized power was the Crown��s policy, and nothing��not even old noble bloodlines��would stand in the way.


    ��If anyone resists,�� Rhaegar added coldly, ��they will be dealt with.��


    Jasper��s face tightened, and he fell silent, offering only a forced smile in response.


    ��Your Grace,�� Lyman chimed in, his dim old eyes narrowing with thought, ��you spoke of capable people, and it brings to mind another matter. Since Lord Lyonel��s retirement, the position of Hand of the King has remained vacant. A wise man is needed to fill the role.��


    The Hand of the King was a critical position, often acting as the buffer between the king and the realm��s nobility. Whoever held that office could shift the bnce of power, depending on their loyalties. Historically, the Hand was always a trusted confidant of the king, such as Orys Baratheon for the Conqueror or Septon Barth for King Jaehaerys.


    Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed slightly, and he nced at his father, Viserys, who sat calmly, observing the conversation.


    "You should choose a wise man from the Small Council, or someone you trust." Viserys spoke slowly, his voice tinged with drowsiness as he tried to offer subtle guidance.


    When wielded effectively, the Hand of the King was a powerful weapon��a de that could shape kingdoms. Viserys had personally appointed two Hands during his reign: Otto Hightower and Lyonel Strong. The former was highly capable but idealistic and self-serving, while thetter was pragmatic, steady, and respected for his impartiality. Both had served their purposes at crucial moments, and Viserys had chosen them carefully.


    Otto Hightower had been one of the two remaining senior statesmen at the end of King Jaehaerys��s reign, representing Oldtown and the conservative aristocracy. At the time, the Targaryens were vulnerable. Corlys Vryon harbored resentment toward the crown, while Daemon coveted the position of heir. Viserys had kept Otto in power to counterbnce those external and internal threats.


    In the early days, their partnership had flourished. Together, they had steadily outmaneuvered Corlys and Daemon, forcing them both to withdraw from King''s Landing. But over time, Otto became too bold, meddling in royal affairs to further his own ambitions.


    When Otto''s overreach became intolerable, Viserys had reced him with Lyonel Strong, a loyal and pragmatic Hand who restored the crown��s influence in the Small Council. But Lyonel��s cautious approach, though stabilizing, was not suited to guiding a more aggressive or ambitious king.


    Now, as Viserys reflected, he realized stepping down had been the right choice��for both himself and the realm.


    Rhaegar listened closely, sensing the deeper meaning behind his father''s words.


    "Your Grace, do you have someone in mind?" Lyman asked, his tone uncertain.


    The king was still young, and no one knew who he truly trusted yet. The members of the Small Council exchanged looks, each secretly wondering if they might be chosen. Even Corlys Vryon, Master of Ships, and Tnd Lannister, recently returned from Vntis, straightened in their seats, watching Rhaegar��s expression closely. The position of Hand of the King was an irresistible prize��second only to the crown itself.


    For someone like Corlys, it wasn��t just about power. The status that came with the title was tempting, even for a man already revered for his legendary voyages and wealth. And with his extensive experience, he was certainly qualified for the role.


    Rhaegar nced around the room, sensing the rising tension. He decided to turn the question back to the council. "Who do you all have in mind?"


    The king understood the importance of selecting a strong Hand, but he wasn��t sure who would be the best fit. Rather than making a hasty decision, it was wise to hear the thoughts of those around him.


    Jasper, the Master of Laws, was the first to step forward, unable to contain his eagerness. ��Your Grace, Storm��s End presents challenges at the moment. Why not send me to oversee the reconstruction? It could serve as proof of my ability to handle difficult tasks.��


    The lingering issue of Storm��s End had, after all, prompted the need for this discussion. For Jasper, handling it sessfully would be a way to prove his worth��not just as a capable lord, but as a potential Hand of the King.


    ��Lord Jasper has volunteered. Anyone else?��


    Rhaegar smiled, not objecting outright but allowing the conversation to flow.


    ��Your Grace...��


    Tnd cleared his throat, standing up with a self-satisfied air. Before he could continue, Rhaegar cut him off.


    ��Please sit down, Lord Tnd,�� Rhaegar said, his voice polite but firm. Vntis was already handling enough affairs, and there was no need for Tnd to return to court so soon.


    Tnd, visibly embarrassed, sank back into his seat, realizing he had overstepped. A foreign adviser didn��t carry the weight needed for the role of Hand of the King, and he knew it.


    Lyman observed the exchange with a calm, calcting gaze, waiting for the right moment. Finally, he spoke. ��I rmend Lord Corlys. He is the Lord of Driftmark, and his qualifications, reputation, and the strength of his house make him worthy of the honor.��


    ��Thank you, Lord Lyman,�� Corlys said, nodding solemnly. He was pleased with the nomination. With his son Laenor back in the family fold, the influence of House Vryon was stronger than ever. Winning the position of Hand would solidify his legacy as one of the realm��s greatest leaders.


    Lyman chuckled, the wrinkles around his eyes smoothing out. ��If this were ten years ago, I might��ve run for the office myself.��


    Rhaegar, half-listening, absently spun a parliamentary pound between his fingers. <em>Corlys...</em> he mused. The man certainly had the ability and the experience, but his ambition was vast��perhaps too vast. When you reached too high, the fall could be devastating.


    ��I rmend Prince Daemon,�� Tormund, the usually reserved Master of Whisperers, suddenly said, raising his hand and smiling sheepishly.


    Daemon, who had been lost in thought, blinked in surprise at hearing his own name. He hadn��t expected to be thrown into the mix.


    ��Uncle,�� Rhaegar��s eyes lit up with a glint of excitement. He and Daemon worked well together, and the idea of having him as Hand wasn��t unappealing.


    But Viserys, trying to remain diplomatic, forced a smile. ��Daemon is a free spirit, Your Grace. He even struggles to attend Small Council meetings.��


    ��I��m not volunteering either,�� Daemon drawled, rolling his eyes, his voice dry and dismissive. He was never one for formal titles or positions.


    The conversation continued, with the council members offering their thoughts one by one. Only Grand Maester Orwyle remained silent, his face thoughtful.


    Rhaegar, noticing his silence, dropped the pound and turned to him. ��What do you think, Grand Maester?��


    <em>Let��s get this over with quickly,</em> Rhaegar thought, eager to wrap up the meeting.


    Orwyle hesitated, his eyes drifting toward the old king. ��If it��s experience you seek, no one here can match that of Your Grace, Viserys.��


    The suggestion took Rhaegar by surprise, as it did the rest of the council.


    ��No, no, no,�� Viserys quickly waved his hand, rejecting the idea outright. ��I��ve already retired. I can��t act as my son��s Hand��it would undermine my own honor.��


    He couldn��t imagine how history would record him if he stepped back into such a position.


    Orwyle offered a quiet, awkward chuckle and quickly withdrew from the conversation. He had simply floated an impossible option to deflect attention from himself.


    Rhaegar saw through the ploy, smiled, and stood. ��Everyone has made their rmendations, and I��ll need time to think carefully before making a decision.��


    With that, he rose and began to leave. As he passed by Jasper, seated diagonally across from him, Rhaegar ced a hand on his shoulder.


    ��Lord Jasper,�� Rhaegar said, his voice low but firm, ��as you��re from the Stornds, you can rest assured that the reconstruction of Storm��s End will be in capable hands��yours.��


    <em>What a convenient volunteer,</em> Rhaegar thought with a wry smile. <em>Willing to take the work off my shoulders himself.</em>


    Jasper��s face lit up with pride. ��Don��t worry, Your Grace! I��ll give it my all.��

 Chapter 652: The North’s Empty Harvest

    Chapter 652: The North��s Empty Harvest


    It was a beautiful afternoon as Rhaegar stepped out of the meeting hall, the weight of the day��s discussions still lingering in his mind. The warm sunlight felt like a gentle reprieve, and all he wanted now was a good night��s sleep.


    The decision about the Hand of the King could wait.


    ...


    Throne Hall.


    Viserys bade farewell to his advisers and settled onto the Iron Throne with great anticipation. The cold, unforgiving metal still bit into his skin, but today, he hardly noticed.


    ��Grandfather, Your Grace!��


    A group of silver-haired children rushed toward him, their faces lit with joy, like young birds flocking back to the nest. The eldest, Rhaena, led the way, while the youngest, Aegor, was being dragged along the floor by his sister, Visenya.


    ��Yes, yes, let��s hear the story of the day,�� Viserys chuckled, his heart swelling with affection. The pain of the Iron Throne seemed to vanish beneath the warmth of his grandchildren. There were a dozen healthy children surrounding him, either his own grandchildren or those of his brother Daemon. In the past, he would never have dared to dream of such a blessing.


    <em>What need was there to be Hand of the King when you had this?</em> Viserys thought. If only his health weren��t declining day by day, he wouldn��t have to worry about his eldest son��sck of interest in ruling. Rhaegar barely attended the Small Council meetings anymore.��You should rest, Viserys.��


    The story had just begun when Alicent entered from the side of the hall, her voice gentle but insistent.


    ��Let me stay a little longer; there��s no rush,�� Viserys replied, brushing off her concern as he scooped Visenya into one arm and Aegor into the other. After so many years of duty and hardship, he wanted nothing more than to enjoy this moment with his grandchildren.


    ��You always say that,�� Alicent sighed, draping a nket over hisp and gently resting a hand on his leg. As she did, her eyes drifted to his left hand, still wrapped in a bandage from where the Iron Throne had cut him days before. A small patch of dried blood had formed. The wound hadn��t festered, but neither had it healed.


    Viserys noticed the bandage and smiled softly, saying nothing. It was just a cut, after all.


    The two sat together in silence, watching their grandchildren��the mischievous dragon hatchlings��run and y. Alicent, now over forty, had be a grandmother herself. She scooped up Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, who were idly picking at the floor, holding them close. Her eldest son Aegon��s children were her pride and joy��pure, innocent, and far more dear to her than the others.


    ��Aren��t you going to the tea party?�� Viserys asked, mildly surprised at her lingering presence. He wasn��t used to having his story time interrupted.


    ��I��ll stay with you,�� Alicent replied, her voice quieter than usual, her gaze distant.


    Viserys could tell she had something weighing on her mind. He knew all too well what it was. ��What��s troubling you, my love?�� he asked gently.


    Alicent hesitated, then whispered, ��The court is buzzing about the election of the Hand of the King.�� She nced up at him, her expression conflicted. ��My father...��


    ��Otto is doing a fine job in Qohor,�� Viserys cut in, his tone growing firmer. He had heard this before.


    Alicent wasn��t deterred. ��He��s old, Viserys, and being so far away is unsettling. We need him here.��


    King��s Landing was no longer the secure ce it once was, and without Otto, Alicent felt exposed. If her father returned as Hand, she would feel safer, more supported.


    ��Alicent, it won��t work,�� Viserys sighed, cing his hand over hers. ��Otto chose to spend his final years in Qohor. That was his decision.��


    Otto and Cole were crucial in governing the distant city of Qohor and the Golden Fields. Rhaegar wouldn��t agree to his recall, not when so much was at stake in Essos.


    Alicent fell silent, her eyes downcast. She couldn��t hide her disappointment, her face shadowed by a quiet sadness.


    ...


    The Council Chamber.


    <em>Knock, knock!</em>


    Baelon sat in the hall, leafing through old documents, when the knock interrupted him.


    ��I��ll get it,�� said Ba, standing by the bookshelves with a feather duster in hand. She moved gracefully toward the door, her slender figure exuding a mature charm.


    <em>With a creak,</em> the door swung open to reveal a portly old man.


    ��And you are?�� Ba asked, her brow furrowing. She didn��t recognize the visitor.


    ��My name is Desmond Manderly. The heir prince knows me.�� Desmond smiled, his triangr eyes glinting with sharp intelligence. He nced past Ba, immediately spotting Baelon seated within.


    Baelon looked up at the sound of the familiar voice. ��Lord Desmond? When did you arrive in King��s Landing?�� he asked in surprise. Desmond Manderly, the Lord of White Harbor, was one of the most prominent nobles in the North. Dressed in finely tailored silk robes and adorned with rings of gold and gemstones, his graying hair neatlybed back, he looked more the part of a wealthy merchant than a northern lord.


    ��Inded at the Mud Gate this morning, Prince,�� Desmond replied humbly, offering a deep bow. ��The Commander of the Kingsguard informed me that His Grace was resting, so he led me here to see you.��


    Understanding the situation, Baelon smiled warmly. ��Please, have a seat, my lord.��


    He nced at Ba, offering an apologetic look. ��Would you mind pouring Lord Desmond a ss of wine? We wouldn��t want our guest from afar to feel unwee.��


    Ba nodded, gracefully pouring wine from a jug. The brother and sister��s coordination didn��t go unnoticed by Desmond. Though he had not received the grand reception he likely expected after such a long journey, Baelon��s courteous words and attention smoothed over any lingering disappointment.


    ��Thank you for your hospitality, Prince,�� Desmond said, shing a broad smile. He turned to Ba, who handed him the ss, adding, ��And thank you, mydy.��


    As he spoke, Desmond discreetly nced around the room. His gaze lingered on Ba, the eldest daughter of Prince Daemon, heir to Tyrosh across the Narrow Sea. She remained unmarried after the death of her fianc��, Prince Aemon. There was something calcting in Desmond��s eyes as he observed her.


    Ba, ever perceptive, caught the subtle appraisal and frowned slightly. ��You��re wee, Lord Desmond,�� she replied, her voice polite but clipped.


    Baelon noticed her reaction and then looked at Lord Desmond, whose warm smile remained fixed in ce. Anyone who knew Ba well could see she was close to losing her temper. Sensing the tension, Baelon decided to move things along before the situation escted.


    ��What brings you here, my lord?�� he asked, steering the conversation to business.


    Desmond��s smile faded as he adopted a more serious tone. ��Prince, the kingdom has won the war against the Basilisk Isles. In light of this, I seek to borrow a sum of money from the national treasury on behalf of White Harbor.��


    Baelon��s brow furrowed in confusion. ��White Harbor has always been wealthy. Why borrow from the treasury? Wouldn��t the Iron Bank of Braavos be more suited for such a request?��


    White Harbor and Braavos had strong trade connections, after all.


    ��You misunderstand, Prince,�� Desmond replied, his tone now somber. ��White Harbor, and the North as a whole, face unique difficulties.�� He sighed heavily before continuing, ��You are a Dragonlord from the South, and you��ve experienced nothing but the long ten-year summer. You may not have seen the true bite of winter.��


    Baelon��s frown deepened. The hardships of the North were something he hadn��t fully grasped, but Desmond��s words hinted at challenges he had yet to understand.


    Desmond continued, ��King''s Landing may be basking in summer, but the North is already gripped by winter. Heavy snow has nketed the crops.��


    ��How can that be?�� Ba, still holding the jug of wine, eximed in surprise. The North should also be enjoying the long summer.


    Desmond, sensing her confusion, responded with a somber tone. ��You don��t understand. Spring in the North was warm, yes, but the snow fell suddenly and without warning.��


    He sighed heavily, adding, ��Lord Cregan, during his inspection, noted that the entire region will likely face a poor harvest this year.��


    House Manderly, though not originally from the North, had long since adapted to its harsh climate, bing one of the region��s most influential families over the past thousand years.


    Baelon, stunned by this news, quickly searched through the official records from the North over the past six months. To his surprise, there was little to nomunication from the noble houses, as if the North had be a world unto itself.


    ��Has winter trulye to the North already?�� Baelon murmured, his heart sinking. He recalled the prophecies from <em>A Song of Ice and Fire</em>, Aegon the Conqueror��s foretelling of the Long Night and the Others beyond the Wall. His father��s urgency in securing the Golden Fields of Essos was driven by these concerns, for the future of House Targaryen.


    ��Prince, I know borrowing from the national treasury is a bold request,�� Desmond said, his voice tinged with helplessness, ��but White Harbor is running out of options. The Iron Bank has refused us, and if we don��t act soon, the port will freeze over. I must prepare before the true winter arrives.��


    Baelon fell silent, considering the situation. He understood why the Iron Bank had turned White Harbor away. Throughout past wars, White Harbor and Gulltown had been pivotal in defending against Braavos.


    Now, with the fall of the Basilisk Isles, Braavos had lost a potential ally and had no interest in assisting a weakened White Harbor. Why lend aid to an enemy who could no longer serve their interests?


    As Baelon pondered, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up to find Ba��s eyes meeting his, offering silent encouragement. She didn��t interfere with his decision, but her presence grounded him, clearing his thoughts.


    ��I am truly sorry for what has befallen the North,�� Baelon began, his tone softening. ��The royal family will not turn a blind eye.��


    Desmond, however, was growing impatient. Polite words meant little to him; he wanted action, repayment for his family��s loyalty to the crown.


    ��Please, Lord Desmond, be patient,�� Baelon said, leaning back in his chair. ��As the saying goes, it��s not theck of resources that causes problems, but the mismanagement of them. The natural disaster has affected all the noble houses of the North.��


    Desmond narrowed his eyes. ��And what do you mean by that?��


    ��I can��t make the final decision on this,�� Baelon admitted, shifting the responsibility higher up. ��But I will speak with my father, and we��ll ensure proper reinforcements are sent to the North.��


    His words were well-calcted, artfully vague, and delivered with a practiced ease. Desmond, a seasoned yer in the political game, understood the subtext immediately. The heir prince was buying time.


    Desmond��s face darkened, and he stood abruptly. ��Very well. I shall await the king��s decision. In the meantime, I��ll take my leave and stay as a guest at the inn.��


    He nodded cordially to Ba and stormed out, his frustration barely contained.


    Ba, now free from the formalities of hosting, poured herself a ss of wine and leaned against the table, her tone more rxed. ��You��ve offended him,�� she remarked, taking a sip of the sweet wine.


    Baelon snorted in response. ��He offended me first,�� he retorted. ��Borrowing money is a favor, not a right. Throwing a tantrum when denied isn��t going to help his case.��


    He frowned, his irritation growing. ��White Harbor acts as if they��re indispensable. Even Oldtown pledges its allegiance to the crown without such arrogance��why should White Harbor be any different?��


    ��Careful,�� Ba warned, her voice calm but serious. ��White Harbor��s support represents half of the North��s strength.��


    She sipped her wine, her expression serene, though her eyes held a wisdom beyond her years.


    ��Are you really <em>that</em> much older than me?�� Baelon muttered, feeling ufortable under her knowing gaze.


    ��Mm-hm,�� Ba replied with a casual shrug, her eyes still full of concern.


    Baelon sighed, resting his chin in his hand. The chamber fell silent as the weight of the conversation lingered between them.


    ...


    It was night.


    Rhaegar had just woken from a deep sleep when the sudden news hit him like a hammer blow.


    ��It��s snowing in the North?�� His voice was groggy, and his sleepy eyes struggled to focus, but the gravity of the message jolted him awake.


    Baelon, standing by his bedside, nodded rapidly, like a chicken pecking at grain. ��I��ve sent a raven to Winterfell, asking Lord Cregan for more details.��


    ��Good thinking,�� Rhaegar muttered, running a hand through his long, tangled silver-and-gold hair. He sighed. ��The end of the ten-year summer is near. I wonder how hard this winter will strike.��


    A dull headache pulsed behind his eyes. <em>First sleep brings migraines, now this news makes it worse.</em>


    ��Father, what should we do?�� Baelon��s expression was serious, his brow furrowed.


    ��The North isn��t like the South��it��s a stubborn ce, resistant to change.�� Rhaegar��s mind raced as he formted a n. ��To be cautious, we need someone to go and work with Cregan directly, to get the full picture.��


    Desmond��s words, though urgent, could not be fully trusted. He was a shrewd businessman, and there was always a mix of truth and exaggeration in his ims. It was better to see things firsthand.


    ��Who should we send?�� Baelon��s eyes gleamed with interest.


    Rhaegar noticed his son��s eagerness and paused, biting back the name <em>Aegon</em> that was on the tip of his tongue. ��You want to go?�� he asked, reading Baelon��s expression.


    Sending Baelon to the North made sense. It would demonstrate the royal family��s sincerity and show the Northerners they were taking the situation seriously. <em>Aegon</em>, however, was unreliable��too impulsive for such delicate matters.


    ��I can go,�� Baelon said with a broad smile. The prospect of leaving King��s Landing clearly excited him, especially after spending so much time idle in the capital. His dragon, Uragax, was also restless, flying circles over ckwater Bay with nothing to do.


    ��You won��t go alone,�� Rhaegar said firmly, his eyes narrowing. The fate of his second son weighed heavily on him, and he wasn��t about to risk another disaster.


    Baelon, catching the hint, grinned and winked. ��What if Ba apanies me?��


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow. His eldest foster daughter was capable��strong-willed, fearless, and skilled. The two of them together would make an impressive pair, a royal delegation that could handle any situation the North threw at them.


    The idea had merit.

 Chapter 653: Fierce Competition

    Chapter 653: Fierce Competition


    The night deepened.


    The Red Keep, a guest room.


    A single candle burned on the table, casting a flickering light that dispelled the daunting darkness.


    "Your grandfather was the brave Baelon, one of the most daring knights in the Seven Kingdoms."


    "If you trace your ancestry properly, the bloodline is no less thick than Rhaegar''s."


    Daemon''szy voice echoed in the room,ced with supreme confidence. His dark eyes were particrly deep as he spoke.


    There was a brief silence. Leaning back in his chair, Daemon spoke indifferently, "The boy wants to take you to the North. Have you made a decision?"


    His gaze narrowed slightly, revealing a trace of inquiry, as if confirming something.


    Across the room, Ba stood by the firece, kindling the stacked firewood.Ka-ka!


    The flint struck together, producing a few sparks. As the firewood began to catch, the growing me gradually dispersed the damp chill lingering in the room.


    "I have no such intention," Ba replied lightly, rising to tidy the mess of books on the bookshelf. They were all her father��s pastimes. She picked up one at random, and the cover read, <em>The True History of the Ancient Dragonlords.</em>


    Daemon nced at it and remarked nonchntly, "That''s a rare copy from the library of Pentos. Your mother packed it in her luggage. We were truly in tune with each other back then."


    At his words, Ba paused, her hands stilling over the book. She closed her eyes slowly.


    Bang!


    The book mmed into the cab, sending ayer of old dust into the air.


    Her eyes snapped open, cold and sharp. "What is it that you <em>really</em> want to ask? Don''t use my mother as bait."


    Her mother, who had died in childbirth, was a constant, painful thorn in her side. If not for the unbreakable bond between her and Daemon as father and daughter, she might have turned her back on him long ago.


    Daemon''s expression remained unchanged as he spoke with measured calmness. "Baelon is young and headstrong. He needs a wise and understandingpanion by his side."


    His hawk-like gaze locked onto his eldest daughter.


    "My fianc�� has just died!" Ba''s voice trembled with incredulity. "Do you think I would forget the past, marry a boy years younger than me, and thenpete with my younger sisters?"


    Mentioning Aemon, her deceased fianc��, caused herposure to fray.


    "I''m sorry," Daemon said after a brief pause, though there was an unmistakable note of relief in his voice.


    "I won''t go to the North. You can reject cousin," Ba said tly, her exhaustion evident. She turned away, resuming her task of tidying the room, clearly no longer interested in the conversation.


    Daemon poured himself a ss of wine, his expression faintly bored. "It��s all about the debts of children. Even the king has to tread carefully."


    Ba ignored him, picking up a feather duster and dusting the bookshelf vigorously. Daemon shrugged, unconcerned. He had no doubt that his eldest daughter imagined she was dusting away more than just dirt.


    ��You shouldn��t be in King��s Landing,�� she suddenly blurted out, then, after a moment��s thought, added, ��You should be in the fields of Essos, riding your dragon, dressed in ck and flying recklessly.��


    Ba was hot-tempered and born to be on a dragon��s back. Just look at her now. She was wearing a red dress that didn��t match her skin tone, her short silver-blonde hairbed up, dangling earrings swaying as she moved, and she carried a feather duster in her hand.


    She looks like a servant girl at the Red Keep.


    Daemon was drinking and grumbling, a nagging old man in his fifties. But despite his cold, unruly face, and his thin frame, his body was still full of power. You couldn��t guess his real age.


    ��Don��t you think you��re being noisy?��


    The longer Ba listened, the darker her face became, and she couldn��t help but furrow her brow. If it weren��t for her filial piety, she might have shoved the feather duster in his mouth.


    ��Haha, then say something useful.�� Daemon gave a carefreeugh before suddenly turning serious. ��Has that boy asked you to go to the North with him? Have you made a decision?��


    Ba��s breathing quickened, her fiery temper barely contained. The same question over and over again. Has he gone senile?


    ��Cut the crap, you should go.�� Daemon tapped his fingers on the table for emphasis. ��There are hidden dangers in the North. You must go there yourself and bring me back the most realistic news.��


    Ba was confused. <em>��Why do you all attach so much importance to the North?��</em> Even Baelon��s expression grew grave whenever the North was mentioned.


    ��You will find out in the future,�� Daemon resumed hiszy posture, adding, "It��s better not to know. It��s quite a disaster."


    ��I can go to the North. What else?�� Ba knew she had no right to refuse and sought to satisfy her curiosity.


    ��Look around, experience the local customs,�� Daemon said indifferently, leaning back. ��Think of it as a vacation. Don��t let yourself get depressed.��


    ��You��re concerned about me?�� Ba frowned.


    ��Don��t tter yourself,�� Daemon scoffed.


    Ba stood by the firece in silence, warming herself. To be fair, her mood had been quite unstabletely. She wanted to go across the Narrow Sea to look for Aemon but was afraid of finding only a mangled corpse. But since Uncle Laenor had returned alive, she firmly believed there might still be a chance for Aemon.


    After a while, Daemon had dozed off in his chair when he heard the door creak open. He didn��t move, keeping his eyes closed.


    Ba pushed the door ajar and nced back at her father, pretending to be asleep.


    ��Haha,�� she sneered to herself, stepping out of the room. ��It��s good to get some fresh air,�� she murmured, her maic voice barely audible before the door clicked shut.


    ...


    The next day...


    King''s Landing, Dragonpit.


    "Roar!"


    A moss-green behemoth soared from the Bronze Gates, its milky-yellow wings pping as it rose into the sky. The old dragon circled King''s Landing once, then flew off toward the Vale, following the path of the Dragon Gate.


    Trailing close behind was a young dragon, pale green, flying low in the sky. It stayed in the shadow of therger beast, as if it were a part of the old dragon''s immense presence. Together, the two��onerge, one small��resembled moss-coverednd and towering pine trees.


    ...


    The Red Keep, the meeting hall.


    Rhaegar leaned against the window ledge, watching as the two dragons disappeared into the distance.


    ��You got what you wanted,�� Daemon remarked, circling the conference table. He stopped at the first chair on the lower left side, the seat meant for the Hand of the King. The chair''s arms were carved with hands clutching keys, symbolizing the Hand��s authority.


    ��You make it sound like I��m pining for your daughter,�� Rhaegar grumbled reluctantly. ��If it weren��t for the fact any other family members couldn��t be spared, it wouldn��t be the children leading this mission.��


    ��As long as you''re willing to let go...�� Daemon responded absentmindedly, his eyes fixed on the chair. <em>My good nephew dares to send his eldest son, his heir, to the North, and also sets his wild daughter loose.</em>


    ��Uncle, the House still needs to seize opportunities from the outside.�� Rhaegar grew serious, his voice thoughtful. ��The Golden Fields must be developed. Its annual grain yield could feed half the continent of Westeros.��


    ��Who will you send this time?�� Daemon asked, finally shifting his attention from the chair, a spark of interest in his eyes.


    ��I��ll go myself,�� Rhaegar replied with certainty, distrust clear in his tone. ��Before that, I need to choose a Hand of the King to govern in my absence.��


    ��Oh?�� Daemon��s eyes narrowed slightly, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a sly smile.


    ...


    Mid-July, and the heat showed no sign of relenting.


    King''s Landing bustled with activity. Hundreds ofrge ships were anchored at the Mud Gate, each flying the banners of nobles from all over Westeros. The king��s selection of a new Hand of the King had spread like wildfire, drawing many self-important lords eager to try their luck.


    ...


    Red Keep, the throne room.


    ��Your Grace, the price of Stornds stone has suddenly doubled. We may need to increase the funds we��ve set aside,�� Jasper reported in his usual slow, methodical tone. No sooner had he opened his mouth than he was talking about draining the treasury.


    Lyman, sitting nearby, listened in a daze, his ears pricking up at the mention of funds. Someone wants to empty <em>his</em> coffers?


    ��Lord Lyman, how much more can the treasury allocate?�� Rhaegar asked calmly from the Iron Throne, his face betraying little emotion.


    Lyman, however, was far from calm. He frowned, his irritation palpable. ��Your Grace, the treasury is not inexhaustible! There''s something very wrong with the price of stone from the Stornds.�� He scowled at Jasper. ''The king has already been generous enough to pay the workers building the prince��s pce. And now you dare ask for more?''


    <em>He doesn��t care about my old bones,</em> Lyman fumed silently, ring daggers at the man who dared request more money.


    Rhaegar��s eyes twinkled, his tone sharpening as he turned to another member of the court. ��Lord Iron Rod, do you agree with Lord Lyman?��


    Jasper hesitated, then offered his rehearsed excuse. ��Your Grace, the situation in the Stornds is... unique.��


    ��It��s all the king��snd. What��s the difference?�� Lyman shot back aggressively, his questionnding like a challenge. His sudden vigor was palpable.


    ��Er���� Jasper froze, caught off guard. A fine sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. <em>The old man is really on edge today,</em> he thought.


    Lyman straightened in his seat, ready for a fight. No way he��d let anyone take more money from his pocket.


    Rhaegar watched the exchange with amusement, his gaze resting on Jasper, who squirmed under Lyman��s relentless questioning.


    <em>This is why Lyman has served as senior adviser through three dynasties,</em> Rhaegar mused. The man had clung to his roles as Master of Coin and Lord Treasurer for decades, fiercely guarding the realm��s gold.


    Even in his old age, Lyman��s miserly dedication remained unshaken, and for that, Rhaegar knew, there was no one better suited to watch over the crown��s coffers.


    ��Your Grace, I have done my best,�� Jasper said, his face clouded with disappointment. It was clear he was defending himself, implying that his work on the Prince��s Pce had been done solely at the king''smand, all in an effort to ease the burdens of the Hand of the King. <em>Even if there is no glory, there is hard work,</em> he seemed to suggest.


    Rhaegar��s expression darkened, his brow furrowing as he sneered. ��The position of Hand has not yet been decided, Lord Jasper. You��re already reaching beyond your station.��


    As he spoke, Rhaegar nced across the hall. Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron stood together, each leaning in different poses, poking at one another and chatting casually. On the opposite side, the royal advisers, led by the Sea Snake, stood in a formal line, watching the proceedings intently.


    ��He��s looking at you,�� Aegon whispered with a mischievous grin, his hands resting on his stomach as he leaned in toward Aemond.


    Aemond, not bothering to hide his disgust, pushed Aegon away and stepped forward. ��Your Grace, the Hand of the King shapes the future of the realm. It is vital you choose someone you trust.�� His voice was firm, and his chest puffed out with determination. His single eye gleamed, a clear indication of his ambition.


    <em>He wants the role too,</em> Rhaegar thought, observing his brother��s resolve. Aemond had been preparing for this moment for ten long years.


    Rhaegar rested his chin on his hand, his gaze sharpening as he weighed Aemond��s words. He seemed to be seriously considering whether the young prince was ready for the responsibility.


    ��Your Grace, Prince Aemond is still too young!�� Jasper blurted out, clearly losing hisposure. ��We should select a capable man from the Small Council, not someone simply because they��re your kin.��


    ��Lord Jasper is right,�� came another voice before Rhaegar could respond. Corlys Vryon, the Sea Snake, stepped forward, his tall,manding presence impossible to ignore.


    ��What is Lord Corlys�� opinion?�� Rhaegar asked, his tone neutral, though his eyes flicked between the three men now vying for his attention.


    Corlys��s gaze was fierce as he spoke, his voice filled with quiet authority. ��Compared to the previous two Hands, my qualifications and abilities are no less. Ie from the wealthiest house in the Seven Kingdoms, and I ask for the honor.�� His words wereden with ambition.


    <em>Only the position of Hand of the King is worthy of my status,</em> Corlys thought to himself. With the king leaning toward peace, House Vryon must seize more influence, especially in the affairs of Driftmark and Laenor.


    ��Lord Corlys, please, calm yourself,�� Daemon interjected with a smile, standing at the side of the hall.


    Corlys turned sharply, incredulous. ��Daemon, are you vying for the position of Hand as well?��


    The two men were old rivals, their enmity well known. Each understood the other��s ambitions intimately. Daemon, who attended Small Council meetings thanks to his wife��s influence, had long skirted the lines of power despite his own formidable experience.

 Chapter 654: He Can Shut Up Forever

    Chapter 654: He Can Shut Up Forever


    ��Why not?�� Daemon asked, stepping forward slowly, his tone calm but assertive. He was the King��s uncle, the younger brother of the Old King, and the son of the fearless Baelon. Bing Hand of the King should be more than fitting for him.


    ��Is that really what you think?�� Corlys grinned, a mocking edge to his voice. ��It suits your impractical nature.��


    Daemon grunted in response, unfazed. Mockery was nothing new to him. His stubbornness had always shielded him from such barbs.


    ��Uncle, you belong behind the scenes,�� Aemond interjected, his one cold, unyielding eye locked on Daemon. <em>This man failed to be Hand to his own father and stormed out of King��s Landing in a fit. Now he wants to be Hand to his brother?</em> Aemond thought. <em>What ce does an old relic like him have in this?</em>


    Daemon chuckled, a teasing glint in his eyes as he brushed off the subtle insult. Aemond��s challenge was like a child begging for attention, not a threat to him.


    ��Brother!�� Aemond turned to Rhaegar, his voice firm and intent. ��Let me be Hand of the King. You��ll have peace of mind.��


    His confidence was unmistakable, radiating from him like the spreading tail of a proud peacock. But Rhaegar sighed deeply, clearly not convinced. ��What will you do to give me peace of mind?�� he asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice. <em>This boy talks big but has yet to prove himself.</em>


    Aemond hade prepared. ��Stonehelm is well-defended against Dorne, Qohor offers the cheapestce and spices, and I can fight for you on the battlefield.��


    Rhaegar nodded slightly, considering the words. There was truth to them��Aemond did have his strengths.��As far as I know, Qohor isn��t yours to im,�� Corlys interrupted, his voice cutting through Aemond��s confidence. ��Your only fief is Stonehelm. Thends beyond the Greenblood are guarded by the fleet of House Vryon, and we are the ones building the second Prince��s Pce.��


    Corlys spoke with undeniable authority. He had dared to pursue the position of Hand because he had the backing��and the confidence��to do so. The royal family could not afford to overlook Vryon support.


    Aemond��s face turned cold, his temper rising. ��Qohor belongs to me. Whoever conquers it, owns it.�� His words were sharp,den with menace. The Free Cities he had worked so hard to cultivate were not to be tampered with.


    ��Then you should be awarded the title of <em>Prince</em>,�� Corlys replied smoothly, though his smile was sharp, like a dagger twisting in Aemond��s heart.


    ��Woo-hoo~�� Aegon��s eyes danced mischievously, the corners of his mouth twitching with barely containedughter. He was a titled <em>Prince</em>��the only one of the three brothers officially titled as such.


    Aemond��s face darkened with fury, his teeth grinding in frustration. <em>It��s just a title!</em> he seethed. <em>What��s so special about it?</em>


    Rhaegar nced at his uncle, who had remained calm and observant throughout the debate, and asked with a smile, ��Uncle, you didn��t say a word while the others were showing off their abilities.��


    Originally, Rhaegar had leaned toward Corlys Vryon, the Sea Snake. After all, he had considered a few worthy candidates: Lord Cregan of the North, Kermit Tully of Riverrun, and even his own brothers, Aegon and Aemond. Corlys had seniority, but age had made him proud, perhaps evencent, and Rhaegar suspected he didn��t take the king as seriously as he should.


    Cregan Stark, though a strong option, presented another challenge. House Stark, though loyal and steadfast, was rooted in the North, which was growing increasingly unstable.


    And the Northmen rarely traveled south, making Cregan��s potential influence limited. He was young and skilled in politics, but the North was far too distant to be effective.


    Then, of course, there were Rhaegar��s brothers. Both Aegon and Aemond had been considered, with Aegon��unkempt as he often was��still proving more trustworthy than many others at court.


    ��Your Grace, I have nothing to add,�� Daemon replied with a dismissive wave and a smile. ��I offer only the loyalty of a dutiful servant.��


    ��Loyalty?�� Corlys muttered, barely containing his disdain. ��Do you really deserve to use that word?��


    Just thinking of the reckless stunts Daemon had pulled over the years could fill a basket.


    ��You want to test me?�� Daemon��s eyes narrowed, his smile barely concealing the challenge in his words. A father-inw and son-inw, exchanging veiled threats. To an outsider, they might have looked like sworn enemies.


    Corlys wisely chose silence, deciding that biting his tongue was better than feeding the mes.


    Rhaegar straightened in his seat, no longer slouching as he gained a clearer sense of the power ys unfolding before him.


    ��There��s still���� he began, but a sudden interruption cut him off, a noisy voice echoing through the hall.


    Rhaegar turned toward the source of themotion and saw the eager Master of Laws, Jasper, rushing to make his case. Desperate to climb the ranks, Jasper began with ttery, ��I hail from the Stornds, Your Grace. I was one of your father��s trusted advisers, and I helped build the Prince��s Pce.��


    Jasper��s ambition was transparent. House Baratheon, once rulers of the Stornds, had fallen out of favor. Anyone could see that the Stornds would soon fall under the direct control of the Crownds, with the Prince��s Pce being established as the administrative center. If Jasper could be Hand of the King, he��d have the power to ce his loyal men in key positions at the pce, giving him control over the Stornds. His ambition was clear��he wanted to rule through influence.


    ��Lord Jasper, you interrupted me,�� Rhaegar said coldly, his voice carrying a sharp edge. It was a warning, and the first one he had given.


    He had tolerated this man for too long. Rhaegar hadn��t reced his father��s old advisers out of respect for their service, but that didn��t mean they couldn��t be reced if they overstepped.


    ��I��m sorry, Your Grace,�� Jasper said, feigning humility as he pressed on with his self-promotion. ��The construction of the Prince��s Pce is urgent. If I were appointed Hand of the King, I would negotiate reduced material costs and rally the nobles to unite behind the crown.��


    ��I have no intention of paying extra for materials,�� Rhaegar replied coldly. His eyes narrowed. ��The nobles of the Stornds are loyal to the royal family. When have they ever needed to be <em>rallied</em>?��


    The question hit like a dagger, cutting straight to the point. Jasper''s face flushed with sweat as he scrambled to exin. ��With House Baratheon retiring, some might feel... uneasy about the transition.��


    ��Who?�� Rhaegar asked bluntly.


    Jasper faltered, unable to provide an answer. It was something he dared not discuss in detail.


    ��Enough,�� Rhaegar said, his interest waning. He waved Jasper away like a bothersome insect. ��Leave.��


    If this conversation continued, Rhaegar knew his temper would get the better of him. His hand instinctively moved to his waist, where ckfyre hung. The absence of Truefyre, which Aemon carried, gnawed at him, deepening his irritation.


    ��Your Grace...�� Jasper tried again, desperation creeping into his voice.


    ��<em>Leave!</em>�� Rhaegar��s face darkened. He cast a nce at Daemon, a silentmand passing between them. The meaning was clear��he wanted Jasper gone.


    Humiliated, Jasper backed away, but couldn��t resist onest attempt. ��Your Grace, rumors of wailing spirits from Storm��s End have begun to spread����


    ��I told you to shut up.�� Rhaegar��s veins pulsed visibly on his forehead. The thinly veiled threat in Jasper��s words was beginning to test his patience.


    ��Rumors can be dangerous, Your Grace, so if you���� Jasper pressed on, oblivious to the rising tension.


    <em>Swish!</em>


    A sh of cold steel interrupted him. His words died mid-sentence as the sharp edge of a sword cut cleanly through his neck. Half of his head slid off like a block of soft cheese, hitting the ground with a dull thud.


    ��Ahhh!�� Aegon jumped, his eyes wide with shock.


    ��What a nuisance,�� Daemon remarked calmly, wiping the blood from Dark Sister��s de with a casual shrug. ��At least he��s quiet now.��


    <em>Plop.</em>


    Jasper��s body, now missing half its head, copsed to the ground in a lifeless heap. The remains of his brain sttered across the floor, with his half-severed tongue grotesquely exposed in the open mouth of his severed jaw.


    ��How dare you!�� Erryk, Commander of the Kingsguard, shouted, his face pale as he drew his sword. ��Disarm him!��


    Kingsguard Arryk and Ser Steffon advanced from either side, their expressions fierce as they surrounded Daemon. The infamous Rogue Prince had long been a source of disdain among the more loyal knights of the realm, and now their anger boiled over.


    ��No, no,�� Daemon said smoothly as he sheathed his sword, raising his hands in mock surrender. ��I was only doing my duty,�� he added with a smile, his eyes locking onto his nephew on the Iron Throne.


    Rhaegar��s face remained impassive, revealing nothing of the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior. He had expected Daemon to use this moment to eliminate Jasper as apetitor for the position of Hand. But to actually see him strike Jasper down in cold blood? That was another matter entirely.


    ��Your Grace, Daemon has just attacked and killed a Adviser of the Crown in your presence. This is recklessness beyond measure!�� Corlys Vryon��s voice rang out, his face contorted in fury. Whether the anger was genuine or calcted was difficult to tell, but with one rival dead, the path to power was opening for him.


    Around the throne room, the other advisers stood frozen in shock, eyes darting between Jasper��s lifeless body and Rhaegar. Lyman, pale and trembling, covered his mouth to keep from retching as the full weight of the scene sank in.


    Rhaegar didn��t respond to Corlys��s outrage immediately. Instead, his gaze lingered on Daemon, who stood below the throne with a faint smirk, seemingly unfazed by the chaos he had caused.


    ��This matter... ends here!�� Rhaegar��s voice cut through the tension, his tone resolute and full of kingly authority. ��Daemon Targaryen will serve as Hand of the King, and as Hand of the Queen. There will be no further objections.��


    The words hung in the air like a promation of fate.


    <em>Jasper had crossed the line,</em> Rhaegar thought, <emmitting treason against the crown. He deserved his fate.</em> As for Daemon��dangerous, reckless, but undeniably capable��he was suited for the position. Appointing him would allow Rhaegar to ce the burden of me on his uncle when needed. If Daemon couldn��t handle the responsibility, he could always be removedter. For now, the Hand of the King needed to be someone who could manage both the court and the nobility, and Daemon��s ability to attract hatred would work in Rhaegar��s favor.


    ��Thank you, Your Grace!�� Daemon grinned as he knelt, epting his new title with the same air of indifference that had carried him through the entire scene.


    The throne room fell into an uneasy silence. Then, breaking it, Corlys, his voice full of disbelief and rage, shouted, ��Your Grace, you would rather protect your uncle than ept me as Hand of the King?!��


    His frustration was palpable. This wasn��t the first time Corlys had been overlooked. First, King Viserys had refused to marry his daughter Laena to the heir. Then, Rhaegar himself had rejected the match between Ba and his eldest son. And now, instead of appointing Corlys��a man with seniority and wealth��Rhaegar had chosen Daemon, a man notorious for causing chaos. It was the final insult.


    Facing Corlys�� objections, Rhaegar attempted to reason with him. ��Lord Corlys, you already have significant responsibilities as Master of Ships and Admiral of the Fleet,�� he said evenly.


    ��No! That��s no excuse,�� Corlys retorted, his voice sharp with frustration. ��My son Laenor can take over as Master of Ships. You are deliberately snubbing me.��


    ��Laenor has been away for years and isn��t well-versed in the current politics,�� Rhaegar replied with a slight frown, his patience thinning. He had no intention of prolonging the argument. <em>This matter is settled,</em> he thought. He was the king, and the decision was his to make. Corlys was old��nearly 80. Even the Old King, Corlys�� great-grandfather, hadn��t lived past 69. Choosing Daemon, sharp and still dangerous, was far better than relying on a man who could die in his sleep at any moment.


    ��What a joke,�� Corlys sneered, his gaze flicking to Daemon with disdain. ��I just want to see what kind of kingdom you two will run.��


    With that, Corlys turned on his heel and stormed out of the throne room, his cloak billowing behind him. He could tolerate Daemon being the Hand, but he would not allow House Vryon to be dishonored by this farce. A prince who spent his days in the brothels of Flea Bottom? Daemon would turn King��s Landing into a den of vice.


    ��Take care,�� Daemon called after him, arms crossed and a smirk tugging at his lips. If he couldn��t be his brother��s Hand, he would dly serve as his nephew��s. He had no desire to wait quietly on the sidelines. He��d encouraged Ba to follow her own path; now he would prove himself too, just as he had tried years ago when both his brother and Otto Hightower had sought to sideline him. Now, he had the chance to hold power, to do something that would make the world take notice.


    ��Kingsguard, take the body away,�� Rhaegarmanded calmly, his tone unchanged by Corlys�� exit. The defection of the Sea Snake wasn��t enough to shake him. Where could Corlys go? The Seven Kingdoms were vast, but House Targaryen wasn��t about to cower before anyone.


    Erryk nodded and signaled for the Kingsguard to remove Jasper��s body from the hall.


    ��Aemond, don��t give me that look,�� Rhaegar added, turning to his one-eyed brother. ��You��ll take over Lord Jasper position as Master of Laws and help maintain order in King��s Landing.��


    It wasn��t the Hand of the King, but it was a prestigious post. Rhaegar would test Aemond here first, giving him a proper role in the governance of the realm.


    ��Yes, Your Grace,�� Aemond replied through gritted teeth, his expression sour. He had aimed higher, for the Hand, but the Master of Laws was at least a position of influence, seated at the Small Council.


    Rhaegar��s gaze then shifted to Daeron, standing quietly at the edge of the room. ��As for you,�� he said, ��you will serve as Lord Treasurer. Help ease Lord Lyman��s burdens.��


    ��Huh?�� Lyman, startled, looked at Rhaegar doubtfully. ��Your Grace...��


    ��You��re already advanced in years,�� Rhaegar said with a dismissive wave. ��It��s time you took things a little easier.��


    Lyman hesitated for a moment, but finally relented. ��Yes,�� he muttered, bowing slightly. It was true��age had begun to weigh on him, and he couldn��t deny that it was time to pass on some of his responsibilities.


    Daeron scratched his head, surprised by the sudden responsibility now ced on him. It felt like he had just been pulled into the very center of royal duties without warning, and the weight of it sank in like a stone.


    Lastly, Rhaegar��s eyesnded on Aegon. The prince was practically beaming with excitement, his eyes wide with anticipation, filled with almostical foolishness.


    <em>Him?</em> Rhaegar thought, his lips curling slightly. <em>Not today.</em>


    ��That��s it. The meeting is adjourned,�� Rhaegar dered, his gaze sweeping over the room. Without another word, he dismissed them all, leaving Aegon��s excitement hanging awkwardly in the air. If Aegon wanted to continue pretending to be oblivious, then so be it.

 Chapter 655: Winterfell

    Chapter 655: Winterfell


    Driftmark, Spice Town Harbor


    Corlys surveyed the anchored fleet with a gloomy expression, his gaze drifting over the damaged ships again and again. The aftermath of battle was evident��sails torn, hulls battered. As always, the shipwrights would have their work cut out for them.


    "Corlys, there you are."


    Rhaenys approached briskly, a helpless smile tugging at her lips.


    "I was supposed to be at your nephew''s Small Council meeting," Corlys said tly, his voice tinged with sarcasm.


    Defeat at Daemon''s hands still stung, especially since he''d never liked the man. <em>''How could this have happened?''</em> he thought, feeling the weight of humiliation.


    "You''re still a child, sulking like this. It''s unbing," Rhaenys said, her eyes soft as she regarded her husband.


    "I''m not sulking," Corlys muttered, turning his head away, brow furrowing. Anger was hard to hide.


    Rhaenys shook her head andughed. "Losing to Daemon has shamed you, hasn��t it?""I didn��t lose to just Daemon," Corlys snapped. "I lost to the Targaryen men��a bunch of backstabbers. None of them can be trusted."


    He thought of Daemon, of Rhaegar, and even the retired Viserys. <em>''They all watch me with suspicion, waiting for my misstep.''</em>


    "That''s because you''re being too aggressive," Rhaenys said, crossing her arms and leaning against a nearby cargo hoist. "You need to rein in your temper. No one enjoys having an arrogant, prideful man around."


    "You think I have a bad temper?" Corlys turned sharply, eyes filled with surprise. His wife��s words struck deeper than he had anticipated.


    "What I mean," Rhaenys replied, her voice light as she tactfully shifted the subject, "is that you should focus your energy elsewhere. You''re not young anymore. It''s time to think about the children."


    "So you do think I''m old," Corlys said, a flicker of despondency crossing his face before he put his arm around his wife, drawing her close. His broad chest pressed against her face, and he marveled at her beauty, her nobility.


    <em>''Beautiful, generous, strong��''</em> Even though faint crow��s feet had started to line her eyes, she was still the Queen Who Never Was who tamed a dragon.


    Rhaenys smiled, a softugh escaping her as she patted his chest. She had always loved proud, confident men, which was why she had chosen Corlys, the most arrogant of them all. But arrogance, she thought, was only admirable when backed by the power to wield it.


    "What did you mean just now, that I don''t value the House above all else?" Corlys asked, his voice calm, though a hint of tension lingered beneath the surface.


    Without waiting for her response, he added, almost matter-of-factly, "Laenor has brought back his wretched wife from amoner family to High Tide. And their mute daughter."


    Rhaenys raised an eyebrow. "I wasn��t talking about them."


    <em>''The gods�� blessing, perhaps,''</em> she mused. After losing his memory, Laenor had returned to what his father called his "normal" orientation. He had married the daughter of a fisherman from Tarth, and they had a mute daughter with hair streaked with silver and gold. Once back on Driftmark, Laenor wasted no time in bringing his wife and child home, much to Corlys��s displeasure.


    As the wealthiest and most powerful noble in the Seven Kingdoms, Corlys naturally looked down on themon-born girl. She was heavyset, exuding the air of a country bumpkin��qualities that made it impossible for him to see her as anything but an opportunist. In his mind, she was to be treated as a paramour at best. Their daughter was born out of wedlock, and Corlys had nned for Laenor to eventually marry a noblewoman of proper birth, producing legitimate heirs with the appropriate lineage.


    But Laenor had fallen deeply in love with his wife and pleaded with Corlys to treat them with respect. As a father who had lost both his son and daughter, Corlys could not refuse when fate returned one of them to him. Reluctantly, he epted hismoner daughter-inw into the family.


    "Who else are you referring to?" Corlys asked, his tone half-joking, though there was a sharp edge to it. "You don��t expect me to arrange an engagement for my mute granddaughter with a Prince, do you?"


    He looked away, the weight of the absurdity settling over him. Corlys, even with his influence, knew he didn��t have the power or prestige to make such a demand. The young king would certainly not humor an old man half-entrenched in the politics of the sea.


    "It��s Rhaena," Rhaenys said, her face growing serious. She sighed, meeting his gaze. "You know what I mean. That child has been raised as the heir to Driftmark for years, but now she��s hiding in King��s Landing, refusing toe back."


    "There is only one Driftmark," Corlys replied quietly, his voice steady. His son��s inheritance rights would always take precedence over his granddaughter��s. Bloodline wasw.


    "Thenpensate her," Rhaenys insisted, her aim clear and direct. "Rhaena is already Laenor��s foster daughter, and she deserves her due. She��s the next rightful heir to Driftmark."


    Corlys frowned, considering her words. "Now Laenor knows how to appreciate women," he muttered darkly. "His wife is so plump, always giving birth to sons."


    Though the bloodline had been diluted, Corlys saw the need for a male heir to carry the legacy of Driftmark. The tarnishing of the family��s prestige was a price he hade to ept��for the sake of Driftmark��s future.


    ��Forgive me for disagreeing,�� Rhaenys said coldly, her expression hardening as she pushed her husband away and took a step back.


    Corlys was caught off guard. He cursed himself silently, rubbing his temple in frustration. He had stood by her side when her im to the Iron Throne was rejected because of her gender, her "female status" disqualifying her. Back then, he had been her fiercest advocate, even raising the banner of gender equality championed by his mother-inw, Queen Alysanne.


    But now, things felt different.


    ��Give me a moment, Rhaenys,�� he said, hesitating. His voice faltered as if he were struggling to find the right words. "I need time to adjust."


    When they had no son, his focus had been unwavering��securing the future of Driftmark. But now, with Laenor returned and a living male heir, everything seemed moreplicated. The world, once certain, was full of unpredictable turns.


    Rhaenys��s eyes sharpened as she spoke. ��Now, bring Rhaena back from King��s Landing. Don��t break the child��s heart.��


    Corlys remained silent, staring at the ground.


    ��And then,�� she added, her voice steady with purpose, ��you must prepare arge ship.��


    Corlys nced up, puzzled.


    ��The House Vryon owes its prosperity to your ancestors�� boldness��following Aenar when he exiled himself from Old Valyria. That choice made us who we are.��


    At that moment, Rhaenys seemed to glow with wisdom, a force of conviction around her. ��Now that Essos has been reshaped by Rhaegar��s conquests, you should be ready to follow the winds of change as well.��


    Corlys said nothing, but her words weighed heavily on him. As Rhaenys turned and began to walk away, her figure gradually fading into the distance, Corlys gathered his thoughts. He turned back toward the docks, where the shipbuilders worked tirelessly.


    Addam was busy polishing his tools, his focus absolute. Beside him, Alyn, stripped of his usual fine clothes, was helping carry a basket of fish and shrimp.


    Corlys��s irritation stirred. It was the unease of a proud man wrestling with guilt, his sense of duty shing with personal regrets.


    ��My lord,�� Alyn called out, noticing him. He set down the basket, wiping his hands on his shirt.


    ��Come here for a moment, Alyn,�� Corlys beckoned, his voice steady, hiding the storm within.


    ��What can I do for you, my lord?�� Alyn approached, eager yet respectful.


    Corlys studied him for a moment before speaking with the weight of authority. ��You will take arge ship to bring Rhaena back from King��s Landing. In the meantime, I need you to arrange something for your brother.��


    Alyn��s eyes brightened with renewed hope, eager to prove himself. ��What is it?��


    Corlys looked away, unwilling to meet those eager, violet eyes filled with such youthful energy. ��The Golden Fields across the Narrow Sea need development. Tell Addam to go there and reim a fertile piece ofnd.��


    Alyn nodded, understanding the task, though he remained disciplined. ��Yes, my lord. I��ll tell Addam to do his best.��


    He couldn��t help but steal a nce in the direction where Rhaenys had disappeared. Unlike Addam, who remained entirely absorbed in his work, Alyn was keenly aware of the world around him. His eyes tracked movements, reading the mood of the scene, always observant.


    Corlys watched him, a mix of admiration and regret stirring within. Alyn was handsome, upright, and full of vitality��qualities that reminded him of his younger self. In contrast, Laenor, raised among nobles, had developed a gentler, more feminine disposition. With a delicate face as striking as his sister Laena��s, Laenor had always seemed more like a noble girl than a lord.


    But Alyn and Addam, bastards though they were, possessed apetitive fire that Corlys could not deny.


    ��Yes, my lord,�� Alyn repeated, a small smile curling his lips. Then, with a nce back at the vendor''s path, he quietly resumed his work, though his mind remained sharp and alert, always watching.


    ...


    The North, Winterfell


    Snow fell softly over the castle��s towers, nketing Winterfell in white. In the vast Wolfswood, a single tree stood tall��a red-leaved weirwood towering above a crystal-clear spring.


    ��Responsibility is sacrifice.��


    ��Responsibility is everything, even more than blood����


    ��The North bears a great responsibility to the Seven Kingdoms, a duty older than any oath.��


    Underneath the ancient weirwood, Lord Cregan Stark, d in a dark leather coat, recited the solemn words of the traditional deration. His expression was grim, matching the weight of his words. From a sack, he drew out one pound after another��ck and white tokens that would seal the fates of those gathered.


    A circle of strong young men stood around him, each waiting to take their turn. Some drew white pounds, and their tense faces eased with relief. But others drew ck, and their expressions grew even more solemn.


    Cregan��s sharp gaze swept over the group. Hisrge, calloused handnded firmly on the shoulder of a young man who had drawn a ck pound. The youth��s ck hair, ck eyes, and long face marked him unmistakably as a Stark��features passed down through generations.


    ��Are you all going?�� came a quiet voice from the side, tinged with confusion.


    Baelon, his brow furrowed, looked around at the men of the North. He struggled to understand the ritual before him.


    Cregan, his dark eyes serious, lowered his head slightly. ��Since the time of the First Men, we have been the kingdom��s shield against the cold and the darkness,�� he exined. ��ording to ancient tradition, when winter approaches, one in every ten male children of our family must be chosen to join the Night��s Watch.��


    He paused, his voice gentle but firm. ��This is not a punishment, Baelon. It is an honor.��


    The words carried the weight of generations. Baelon, listening intently, grew more impressed with the Lord of the North he had spent the past few days with. <em>''Perhaps only someone with such a blend of gentleness and strength��reason and personal maism��could lead the people of the North, whose blood does not freeze even in the harshest winters,''</em> he thought. <em>''Such a man is worthy of standing among my father��s peers.''</em>


    Cregan straightened, his gaze returning to the circle of young men. ��Do no stop the drawing,�� he said gravely, and the ritual continued.


    Baelon exhaled slowly, watching in silence.


    Suddenly, the shrill cry of a raven pierced the stillness, apanied by the soft crunch of footsteps on snow. Cregan turned, raising his arm for the ck bird tond. It settled, and he removed the letter-carrier from its leg, reading the message quickly.


    Baelon tightened his ck cloak, eyes widening in surprise as he spotted a familiar figure approaching. ��Ba, why aren��t you at the castle?��


    The silver-haired maiden, dressed in a red gown and a ck fur coat, stepped into the Wolfswood. Snowkes clung to her fur-lined shoulders, and her cheeks were flushed an unnatural red.


    ��I couldn��t stay,�� Ba replied, her breath misting in the cold air. ��So I followed the raven.��


    She sniffed, her voice strained as she added, ��The Maester said being active would help me recover from the chill.��


    The two of them had been in the North for several days now, long enough to gain a true understanding of its cold.


    ��Roar����


    A deep, melodic dragon roar echoed suddenly through the Wolfswood, and a gust of cold wind whipped up the snow in a swirling frenzy. From the dense trees emerged an old, rough-scaled dragon, its moss-colored hide speckled with frost. The beast shook its massive body, dislodging the snow that had settled on its back, while its tired, vertical pupils blinked with weariness.


    ��He��sining too,�� Baelon muttered, exhaling a cloud of warm breath as he rubbed his hands together. ��Even the dragons don��t like the cold.��


    ��Uragax has already done you a favor by showing up,�� Ba replied, her voice raspy with frustration. ��I don��t even know where Moondancer��s gone to hide.�� Her young dragon, unable to stand the biting chill, had likely found a warm ce to nest.


    ��Prince,�� Cregan spoke up suddenly, drawing their attention.


    ��But which noble castle copsed from the snowstorm?�� Baelon asked carefully, not surprised by the news. It had been a brutal winter, burying the North in ice and snow even in July. Many households were struggling just to survive.


    ��It��s not a castle��it��s the wildlings,�� Cregan said, handing a letter to Baelon, his face grim. ��They��re gathering beyond the Wall again, nning another assault.��


    Baelon��s eyes narrowed as he read. This would be the third time the Wall had been attacked during this harsh winter. The Night��s Watch had already suffered devastating losses.


    ��For this reason, half of our new recruits are traditionally sent to the Night��s Watch,�� Cregan continued. ��The selection of those recruits was justpleted in the Wolfswood.��


    Baelon nodded, understanding the weight of the situation. ��But we haven��t even finished traveling the entirety of the North.��


    ��The Wall is more important,�� Cregan said, his tone firm and leaving no room for argument. ��The selection is done. We march for the Wall tomorrow.��

 Chapter 656: The Wall

    Chapter 656: The Wall


    Dragonstone, at the edge of a cliff.


    The Cannibal crawled across the grass, its heavy body crushing the des beneath it. Itsbored breathing was like a searing torrent of heat.


    A deep, guttural roar rumbled from its throat.


    ��Roar~~��


    ...


    A shrill scream echoed from the massive beast, sending grass and dust whirling into the air.


    Rhaegary on his side beside the ck dragon''s wing, eyes open as he watched two young dragons sparring. One had gray-green scales, scarlet dorsal fins, and wing membranes, with a sharp head thatcked a horned crown. The other, ck with streaks of purple, bore a fierce appearance with a long, curved horn crown.


    ��Roar!��


    The gray-green young dragon bellowed, unleashing a st of scorching scarlet dragonfire that hit the mottled ck dragon square on the head. The force knocked thetter over, leaving it dazed.��Haha, the two little guys,�� Rhaegar chuckled, tossing a piece of fresh wyvern meat toward them.


    The scent of blood caught the attention of the young dragons, and they lunged at the meat like starved cats. One bit the other, while the other kicked back. They couldn��t even eat peacefully.


    Another low growl came from the Cannibal, its eyelids fluttering. Its massive mouth opened slightly in an impatient rumble.


    The two young dragons froze at the sound, then quickly tore off pieces of wyvern meat before flying away, each clutching their share. They were no bigger than hunting dogs, their wings still weak and unsteady as they wobbled in mid-air, much like young children carrying heavy loads.


    ��You''ve scared them,�� Rhaegar said, shaking his head, though there was a note of amusement in his voice. He pped his own pitch-ck wings. The two dragons, much like Moondancer and Morning, had hatched from eggsid by Syrax. Rhaenyra had named the newborns Arrax and Tyvarix.


    ''Like Lyanna''s Vermax,'' Rhaegar mused, ''named after the deities of Syrax, the goddess of fertility. They represent the warrior, the spear, and thunder... While Vermax represents wisdom and enlightenment, they are all warden dragons of the Mother Goddess.'' He smiled at the thought. ''Very affectionate.''


    The Cannibal opened its miserable green vertical eyes, its wings pping irritably. One of the young dragons hovered tantalizingly close, as if daring it to strike. The Cannibal''s pale dragon head twitched��it hadn��t yet fully digested itsst meal, but the thought of fresh, tender meat tempted it.


    ��Tsk tsk...��


    Rhaegar smirked, climbing onto the saddle along the Cannibal��s wing. He had no time to y with his oldpanion. The dragon seemed to sense this, bracing its wings and gazing across the coast, its monstrous head cocked toward the horizon.


    ��Let��s go. Vryon��s fleet should be setting sail.�� Rhaegar fastened his ck cloak around him, his mind already working over the ns for developing the golden fields. King''s Landing was under the care of his father and Rhaenyra, while the Good Uncle and Aemond had joined the Small Council. He felt relieved, bold, and eager for news from his eldest son in the North.


    ��Roar!��


    With a powerful p of its wings, the Cannibal let out a mighty cry, soaring into the sky. Its thick tail shed through the cliff face as itunched itself into the air.


    ��Roar!��


    A young dragon, scales shimmering cobalt blue with a copper belly, flew out from the Stone Drum Tower, trailing far behind the Cannibal. Daeron rode on its back, one hand clutching a golden key, the other a map.


    ��s, another long journey,�� Daeron muttered. ''With great responsibilityes great power, I suppose. Not like Brother Aegon, who has less power and fewer burdens to carry.''


    The two dragons flew over ckwater Bay, one leading, the other trailing. Slowly, they disappeared beyond The Gullet.


    Below, a fleet flying the banner of a green seahorse sailed across the sea. A dozenrge ships carried cargo and sailors. On the deck of one ship stood a young man with a determined expression, his gaze lifting toward the soaring dragons.


    ��I wish I were a rider too,�� he murmured, eyes gleaming. Addam turned and began barking orders to the sailors with renewed vigor.


    ...


    The North.


    The Wall, Castle ck.


    Creak...


    The winchdder embedded in the frozen stone wall slowly ascended toward the top of the towering Wall. The bitter wind howled, snowkes slipping through the iron fence.


    Baelon shivered, shaking his head to free the snow from his silver-and-gold shawl.


    "You should dress more warmly, Prince," said Cregan, standing straight and tall, a broad greatsword slung diagonally over his left shoulder.


    "It''s exciting to finally see the Wall up close," Baelon replied, smiling, his eyes drifting past Cregan''s greatsword.


    House Stark sword��<em>Ice</em>.


    Baelon''s hand rested on the hilt at his waist, fingers curling around <em>Dragonw</em>, the House sword his father had gifted him. The Dragonbone handle radiated warmth.


    "Winter ising. This is no asion for excitement." Cregan''s brow furrowed deeply, concealing a deeper worry.


    "Winter? Do you mean... something beyond the Wall?" Baelon was quick to understand and thought instantly of the prophecy.


    "You are right." Cregan''s eyes shed with a fierce light, and he murmured, "This is just a sprinkle of snow at the end of summer. The real winter will be... devastating."


    "You brought me here to the Wall. We''ll face it together." Baelon stood tall, showing the bearing of a heir prince, his vision not limited by youth.


    "You are kind, just like your father," Cregan remarked, allowing a rare smile to break his stern features. Teasing, he added, "At least you didn��t threaten me with a dragon like when my ancestor, Torrhen Stark, faced the ck Dread."


    Baelon couldn''t help but smile. "I thought you wouldn��t like to discuss that part of history."


    "Torrhen Stark, the King Who Knelt," Cregan said, with an unusual perspective, "isn��t remembered in shame. He brought the men of The North home safely."


    Just then, Cregan''s gaze caught movement in the sky.


    Roar...


    The massive, mountain-like dragony in the snow outside Castle ck, shaking its head in protest as its wide wings swept snow away. It was colder than Winterfell, and the Great Wall loomed behind, emanating an aura of forbidden magic.


    "Dragon," Cregan muttered, a fierce light igniting in his eyes.


    ng!


    The winchdder shuddered violently as it struck the wooden boards at the top of the Wall.


    "Watch your step," Cregan said, snapping back to the present. He pushed open thedder''s gate and stepped onto the Great Wall.


    As far as the eye could see, battlements rose higher than head height, their frost-covered stones barely concealing the fierce north-south wind. Men of The North, bundled in thick fur coats, waited respectfully near the stairwell, their eyes on the Lord and the young Prince.


    Plop��


    Baelon leapt onto the hardenedyer of ice, while the torches along the Wall swayed in the cold wind, casting flickering shadows across the ancient fortification.


    "It''s cold," Baelon muttered.


    "This is only the tip of the iceberg. You��ll have to learn to ept it."


    Cregan, like an amiable teacher, took the young prince��s hand and walked onward. Despite being only in his twenties, Cregan had already known love and loss. After enduring many trials, he had be remarkably open-minded. The heir, just ten years old, felt almost like his own child to him.


    "This way, my lord," said a seasoned Night''s Watchman as he approached, leading the pair toward the watchtower.


    Cregan nodded. "I��ll show you the view beyond the Wall so you can tell your father about it when you return home."


    "I��d rather take a leak," Baelon joked, his face reddened by the cold. His voice carried a hint of exasperation as he added, "My cock��s shriveled into nothing, and I can��t stop thinking about peeing."


    He marveled at how the Night��s Watch could endure this endless winter, understanding now why the oath forbade wives and children. <em>No one would be in the mood in this cold.</em>


    When they reached the watchtower, it turned out to be a simple wooden structure jutting from the Wall. Cregan pointed toward the distance with arge hand.


    "Over there is the Haunted Forest, wildling territory," he said.


    Baelon followed his gaze, noticing the arrows lodged in the walls and the dark bloodstains scattered in the snow below. Some of the arrows were nearly two meters long, as imposing as the steel spears used on scorpion crossbows. Red patches bloomed on the snow, staining the frozen remains.


    "Those are the marks the wildlings left behind," Cregan whispered gravely. "They feel wintering too and are doing everything they can to cross the Wall."


    "Why don��t we just let them in?" Baelon wondered aloud.


    Both knew the true enemy lurked far beyond the Wall. The wildlings were merely unfortunate souls, living on the wrong side when the Wall was built. Like the people of The North, they were descendants of the First Men.


    "I can��t be certain of their threat," Cregan said calmly, showing no annoyance at the question. "Besides, the people of The North can barely feed themselves. They can��t afford to care for outsiders."


    He exined that even the sons of the nobility volunteered for the Night��s Watch to spare their families�� dwindling rations. The wildlings were unproductive, and letting them pass the Wall would be disastrous.


    Baelon remained silent, inwardly pursing his lips. <em>The kingdom is still too weak. That��s why people live on the edge of survival.</em> If possible, he wished for a day when everyone could eat their fill.


    Whoosh��


    Cregan bent down, about to speak again, but the sound of solemn horns echoed from the Haunted Forest, cutting him off.


    Sa sa sa...


    Dense footsteps crunched through the snow, shaking the forest lightly. Baelon��s eyes widened, and an unease crept up his spine. From the trees, a procession of wild men emerged, draped in animal skins, their ranks solemn and indifferent to death.


    At the front, a massive beast, towering several stories high and covered in long, matted hair, trudged forward.


    "Mammoth," Baelon whispered, eyes widening as they reflected the enormous creature. There were two mammoths, their thick waists bound by ropes, dragging behind them massive tree trunks.


    Two giants, seven or eight meters tall, trudged alongside the beasts, their grotesque faces framed by ragged animal skins. Longbows and arrows, identical to those embedded in the Wall, were strapped to their backs.


    Roar...


    A heavy, thunderous dragon roar reverberated from behind them, temporarily drowning out the echo of the horns. Uragax soared into the air, circling the Wall, its amber eyes filled with rm.


    Baelon and Cregan stood side by side, their backs to the dragon and their faces turned toward the cold wind and gathering snow.


    ...


    The Great Grass Sea of the Dothraki.


    An afternoon. A shoddy tent.


    "My brother was the smartest man and the dumbest idiot." Aemon''s eyes grew distant, filled with memories.


    A faint flush returned to his pale cheeks as his voice rasped, as though something blocked his throat.


    "What was he like?" Leah sat cross-legged on a worn woolen rug, holding a te of cooked horse meat.


    "Him..." Aemon bowed his head, forcing a smile. "He was better than me. I''m not as good as he was."


    "No!" Leah protested, her eyes widening as she held up a small dagger. "You''re a Prince, and so was he. You''re a real dragon, just like him. How could he be better than you?"


    "That''s different."


    Aemon gently pushed the de aside, picking up a piece of horse meat. He chewed slowly, wincing as his jaws ached from the effort. The tough meat resisted, refusing to fall apart.


    Gritting his teeth, Aemon forced himself to swallow. <em>I used to savor the finest food thanks to my parents,</em> he thought bitterly. <em>Now, the life of the Dothraki is like being orphaned and left to drink brown soup in a flea-ridden pit.</em>


    "Are you sad?" Leah leaned closer, peering into Aemon��s purple eyes.


    "No," Aemon lied.


    Leah tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "You had a dragon. What was it like?"


    "It was big... a great big one." Aemon��s throat tightened, and a flush crept up his neck.


    "It��s dead, isn��t it?" Leah, sharp as ever, saw through his attempt to hide the truth. If the dragon still lived, it would have found its way back to him by now.


    Aemon''s face darkened. In frustration, he grabbed the dagger and stabbed at the horse meat, cutting it with unnecessary force.


    "Don��t be sad," Leah said, her voice bright, as if she were offering a gift. "In a few days, I��ll give you a little horse. Then you can ride with me, instead of walking with the ves."


    Aemon:...


    <em>I didn��t want to talk. My thoughts were consumed by memories of the Trickster��the wild dragon I saw that night. It never returned. I regained the will to live, but without a goal, without direction.</em>


    "Woof woof~~"


    A yful barking pulled Aemon from his thoughts. Leah was lying beside him, trying to cheer him up with a curtsy that looked more like a game.


    Blushing, Aemon leaned back. "What are you doing?"


    "Your dragon is gone, isn��t it?" Leah��s eyes sparkled with hope as she offered, "I��ll be your dragon now. I��ll take you for rides across the Great Grass Sea."


    Aemon couldn��t help butugh, shaking his head. "That��s not how dragons sound."


    "Then how do they sound?" Leah asked eagerly, sitting down beside him. Her enthusiasm undiminished, her wide eyes flitted between Aemon��s fair face, which grew more captivating the longer she stared. His short silver-blonde hair and purple eyes shimmered like the moon and stars.


    Leah sniffed the air and grinned. The stench of sweat and dirt had faded, reced by the smell of mutton and grass. "So, how do dragons really sound?" she repeated, her curiosity undeterred.


    "A dragon is a dragon. You can��t imitate it." Aemon shifted ufortably, but Leah followed, sitting even closer.


    With no other options, they both turned their attention back to the horse meat. Leah retrieved the small dagger, slicing it into thin strips as they ate in silence.


    Outside the tent, the open-air stables buzzed with activity. Cas Khal, the stern-faced leader, stood stroking his warhorse. His expression gave nothing away, but he exchanged a knowing nce with his Bloodrider.


    The scarred Bloodrider nodded in understanding. Without a word, he unsheathed his curved knife and made his way toward the tent. His sharp eyes glinted with a dark,plex intent.

 Chapter 657: The Thirteen of Qarth

    Chapter 657: The Thirteen of Qarth


    The continent of Essos, the Golden Fields.


    The sky stretched in a deep, cloudless blue, while thekes shimmered in shades of emerald green. Thousands of people had set up makeshift homes, cultivating farnd around the fertile shores of Dagger Lake. The water was calm, disturbed only by the asional ripple.


    On the horizon, the foundations of a massive structure were beginning to take shape, sprawling over arge area. Workers moved steadily, carrying wood and stones to hasten the construction. Everything was carried out in an orderly fashion, and no one voiced a singleint.


    The grass rustled underfoot as it was trampled by the bustling crowd. Across theke, a massive ck dragony motionless, its sad green eyes half-open and half-closed. Its sheer presence cast an invisible weight over the camp, a sense of oppression that gripped the hearts of all who dared nce at it.


    Whenever someone gazed too long in its direction, the hot breath from the dragon��s thick nostrils turned the grass in front of it to scorched earth. The people, sensing the heat even from a distance, worked harder under the silent pressure.


    "Old friend, let''s go for a walk,"


    Rhaegar��s voice broke through the hum ofbor as he strode out from the fields, a grave expression on his face. The shortage of manpower was ring. Even though the war with Braavos and Pentos had officially ended, the Dragonlord''s House remained marred by its aftermath. The people of the Golden Fields would rather see their homes trampled by Dothraki hooves than submit to the rule of the Dragonlords and build anew.


    "I��lle with you,"


    Daeron said, trailing behind, his pace slower. His hands were blistered from chopping firewood. There were so few hands to help that even the Prince had to work."You stay here. If you leave, they''ll all run,"


    Rhaegar replied, his voice cold as he swiftly climbed onto the dragon''s back. "I��ll go to ver��s Bay to handle matters. You stay and try to gather more disced people."


    The Dothraki had ravaged half of western Essos, with the Golden Fields suffering the brunt of their devastation. Yet Daeron had gained a good reputation by rescuing those plundered by the Dothraki, which made him invaluable in rallying the refugees.


    After giving his instructions, Rhaegar patted the dragon��s back.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal stirred, rising from the grass, its hind legs stamping the earth with a thunderous boom. It pped its colossal wings, lifting off into the sky. Over the past two months, the nutrients from the pale dragon it had devoured were fully digested, giving the Cannibal��s dark scales a renewed metallic sheen. The once-visible holes in its wings had healed, and its size had grown, nearing 200 meters in length.


    Boom!


    From the perspective of themon folk, the ck dragon appeared like a coal-ck mountain, taking flight. Its wings beat heavily, creating gusts of wind that rippled through the fields. Slowly, the massive creature disappeared into the clouds, leaving only the distant echo of its roar.


    ...


    <strong>ver''s Bay.</strong>


    <strong>Meereen, the Great Pyramid.</strong>


    "Your Grace, Astapor has trained 2,000 Unsullied this year, all fully armored warriors," Racallio announced. Dressed in a garish outfit of red and green, he exuded an odd blend of womanly charm and rugged masculinity, his full beard contrasting with his exaggerated gestures. His frustration was palpable. "But instead of offering them to you, the Good Masters have raised the price."


    Irina, seated high on the throne, sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead. "Send your fleet to Astapor and trade them gold for the Unsullied," she replied. Her voice carried the weariness of one who had navigated these negotiations before.


    The Unsullied were the finest remnants of the Old Empire of Ghis, and Meereen''s defenses relied on the 1,500 already in its ranks, bought in previous years. Astapor, newly revived, funneled most of its looted ves into training more Unsullied, and this year''s crop had finallye of age.


    "Don''t worry, Your Grace," Racallio said, puffing out his chest in a grand show of confidence. "If the Good Masters refuse to sell, I��ll just stuff their heads up my arse and squeeze them!" He twisted his hips theatrically as he strode out of the hall, leaving Irina shaking her head at his entricity.


    As he departed, two bald sorcerers in red robes entered, their pale faces marked with strange tattoos that radiated an ominous aura. The air seemed to grow colder as they approached.


    "Your Grace," one of them said, bowing deeply.


    Irina straightened on her throne. "Have you found the red dragon?"


    ver''s Bay was growing more unstable by the day. Dissent echoed through the Free Cities��some against <em>her</em>, others against the Dragonlord with silver hair and purple eyes. Irina��s sellswords and pirates were no longer enough to quell the unrest. She needed more soldiers. She needed a dragon.


    "We have some news," the sorcerer said.


    "Speak."


    "In the distant Great Grass Sea, the Lamb Men have found traces of a dragon."


    The sorcerer��s voice was steady, each word slow and deliberate, meant to soothe. "We��ve already sent men to search in that direction."


    It was little more than whispers of dragon dung and charred sheep bones, but Irina knew it was enough to stir hope��or fear. Her face grew colder as the conversation dragged on.


    "Just find some more concubines for my brother," she snapped, waving them off impatiently. She had no desire to linger on the sorcerers�� cryptic tales.


    "Yes, Your Grace," the sorcerer replied, bowing once more. Before retreating, he added, "A merchant ship from Qarth has docked, and a witch hase with it."


    Irina frowned, about to demand an exnation, but the man was already gone, his words trailing behind him.


    Boom.


    The wind howled, mming into the windows and toppling the ornate decorations inside the hall.


    "Dragon!" A soldier��s frantic cry echoed from the city below. Themotion outside surged, the sound of hurried footsteps and shoutedmands filling the air.


    Irina''s hand tightened on the armrest of her throne. Her gaze lifted to the open sky beyond the Great Pyramid.


    "Roar..."


    A massive ck dragon circled above, its enormous wings stirring gusts of wind as it flew over the city. Its shadow darkened the streets of Meereen, casting a sense of awe��and terror��across thend.


    ...


    It was midday.


    The Colosseum, Meereen.


    Thousands of spectators sat in eerie silence, watching a multi-person duel unfold in the arena below. Unlike the usual rowdy crowd, an unsettling mix of anxiety and wildness hung in the air, casting a heavy stillness over the Colosseum. Even the ve warriors battling below seemed drained, their swords clutched limply in trembling hands.


    Amid this tension, a grotesque sound filled the air��chewing, loud and awful.


    The Cannibal, its massive body towering over the high walls of the Colosseum, feasted on a pile of cows and sheep. The livestock seemed like mere snacks in its enormous maw, their grunts and sshing blood lost in the beast''s relentless chewing. Its green, vertical pupils gazed down with a cold, predatory malice, as if it could devour the entire audience just as easily.


    "It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace, ruler of the Iron Throne," spoke a man from the high tform overlooking the arena. Seated in a row were a dozen finely dressed figures.


    The speaker was a bald, round-faced man, short and stocky, with a constant smile on his face. "Seeing is believing. You truly remind me of the great conqueror, Aegon. Truly imposing."


    "Indeed," the twelve men and women seated around him nodded in agreement.


    Their clothing was vibrant, adorned with jewelry that glittered in the midday sun. They exuded wealth, luxury, and the heavy scent of perfume.


    Rhaegar lifted his eyes and spoke with a measured tone, fingers resting near his nose. "Master Bargins, let��s get straight to the point."


    The group in front of him was none other than The Thirteen of Qarth. The Golden Fields, Rhaegar��s realm, desperatelycked manpower, resources, and��most of all��money. Qarth, a rich and independent coastal city on the eastern edge of Essos, rivaled even the Nine Free Cities in wealth. Rhaegar sought to secure a loan from them.


    Bargins, momentarily taken aback by the request, allowed surprise to flicker across his fat face. Then he chuckled. "No problem, Your Grace," he said with a practiced smile, ever the adaptable businessman.


    The Thirteen, diverse in hair color and skin tone, were bound by their shared business acumen, a trait that had led them to wealth and influence in Qarth.


    "Your Grace of Meereen," Bargins continued, "we are honored to ask for your help as our intermediary."


    He produced an elegant wooden box and handed it to Irina, seated across from him. Irina, with her silver hair and purple eyes, wore a split blue skirt that entuated her noble and aloof demeanor. She opened the box to reveal a chain link with a dragon head pendant, intricately carved.


    "Valyrian steel?"


    Irina''s eyes lit up as she carefully picked up the silver-gray chain. The dragon-head pendant glimmered in the light as it rested against her arm, draping over her chest andplementing her attire. The piece��s elegance only enhanced the natural beauty of her Valyrian features��long silver-gold hair, fair skin, and a regal bearing.


    "It��s exquisite," Rhaegar remarked, casting a brief nce at the pendant, though his interest in it was more than casual. <em>The merchants of Qarth are indeed generous</em>, he thought, marveling at how casually they bestowed such treasures.


    "Thank you," Irina beamed as she admired the Valyrian steel chain, its dragon-head pendant gleaming in the light. The material itself spoke of its priceless nature, while the dragon symbol perfectly embodied the heritage of a Dragonlord''s house. It was a thoughtful and significant gift.


    "Your Grace, we��ve prepared a gift for you as well," Bargins said with a polite smile, turning to Rhaegar.


    He adopted an apologetic tone, adding, "A cargo ship loaded with spices is waiting in the harbor for you. Originally, there were three ships, but they ran into a storm on the way."


    Rhaegar nodded, his expression neutral. There was no surprise or excitement��five of the six Free Cities under his control were rich in spices. Compared to Valyrian steel, spices were hardly enticing.


    Bargins, momentarily taken aback, hadn��t expected Rhaegar to be so unimpressed.


    After a brief pause, he regained hisposure and smiled again. "In your letter, you mentioned wanting to borrow from the Qarth Bank. How much do you wish to borrow?" He rubbed his hands together, the gesture unmistakably mercenary.


    "Three million golden dragons," Rhaegar replied, leaning back in his chair. "Though if it were possible, five million would be even better."


    Bargins�� smile faltered. "That��s no small sum," he said, his tone bing more serious.


    Rhaegar chuckled. "Is that a problem for Qarth? Or do you not have the funds?"


    "The Thirteen possess vast wealth," Bargins responded gravely. "However, as I understand it, you still owe the Iron Bank nearly a million. The Seven Kingdoms and several Free Cities have been drained by years of war."


    He left the rest unsaid, but the implication was clear. With so much wealth tied up in conflict, how could Rhaegar possibly repay a loan of that size?


    "Are you suggesting I can''t pay it back?" Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed. "Or is it that Qarth doesn��t have the funds?"


    Roar...


    A low, thunderous dragon roar echoed from behind, vibrating through the room like distant, muffled thunder. The Thirteen flinched, their expressions changing instantly. Cold sweat formed on their brows beneath their fine clothing.


    "You misunderstand, Your Grace," Bargins quickly corrected, his smirk returning. "To be candid, we also owe the Iron Bank, and our ability to repay is limited."


    "So you don��t have the money?" Rhaegar cut straight to the point.


    "No, no!" Bargins waved his hands frantically, his voice eager to cate. "We do have the funds to lend you for the development of the Golden Fields, but repayment... let��s just say it��s not as straightforward as you might hope."


    It was a bold admission��essentially confessing they might default on the loan without a hint of shame.


    Rhaegar��s expression darkened. He began to wonder if doing business with these people was more trouble than it was worth. <em>Perhaps I should take a more direct approach</em>.


    "Your Grace, don��t underestimate The Thirteen," Bargins said confidently, tilting his head. "The Iron Bank has controlled the world��s wealth for centuries. Now that you rule six of the Nine Free Cities, why not rece the Iron Bank with us?"


    Rhaegar rested his chin on one hand, considering the proposal. His gaze shifted to Irina.


    Irina, still admiring her new chain, nced up. "Qarth has already established its own bank," she said, a hint of excitement in her voice. "Even ver��s Bay has borrowed from it."


    Rhaegar suddenly understood therger game at y. The Thirteen had ambitions far beyond simple trade��they sought to topple the Iron Bank itself. They weren��t here merely to offer loans or pay tribute to his throne. They wanted to draw the Iron Throne into their ns, to use the power of dragons to safeguard their ambitions.


    They had no interest in charity or admiration. They came to align themselves with dragons and ensure their dominance in the world��s financial future.

 Chapter 658: Should I Go to Asshai?

    Chapter 658: Should I Go to Asshai?


    It was afternoon. The crowd had dispersed from the Great Arena, leaving behind an air of destion.


    Rhaegar sat upright in his chair, a smile curling the corner of his lips.


    "Your Grace, you will never regret your decision," Bargins beamed, carefully folding the signed and sealed parchment and slipping it back into his bosom.


    "That''s right, the Thirteen never lie." Arge, dark-skinned man with a round belly patted his ample chest with pride.


    The remaining eleven men all smiled, raised their goblets, and toasted each other. Just moments ago, the Iron Throne had signed an agreement with Qarth. The Iron Throne would borrow 3.5 million golden dragons to reim the Golden ins, while Qarth would provide the funds, goods, and fiftyrge ships for year-round transport.


    The agreement allowed Qartheen merchants to establish shops at Iron Throne-controlled ports and reduce taxes.


    Additionally, Qarth would borrow from the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms to help overthrow the Iron Bank��s monopoly and support the impoverished nobility. The two sides had formed an alliance��if war broke out, they would advance and retreat together.


    On the surface, it appeared to be aimed at the Iron Bank, but in truth, it was a scheme that involved the Iron Throne. Rhaegar smiled as he put away another parchment. It was merely an agreement concerning debts and the opening of ports.


    ''With the Golden ins sessfully cultivated, the House and the Seven Kingdoms will be safe from the White Walkers in the North,'' he thought. ''If we don��t pay the Iron Bank, we certainly won��t pay Qarth. And if the Thirteen dare to conspire with the ports and Free Cities, they��ll face a rude awakening by dragons!''Everyone knew dragons were evil, magical creatures that neither honored their word nor showed mercy.


    The Thirteen, satisfied after achieving their goals, began to leave. Irina rose, weary from sitting, and started walking away. Rhaegar remained, the only one still seated in the Colosseum.


    He heard soft footsteps approaching. A figure emerged from the shadows, adorned in gold ornaments that jingled as she swayed her hips. Rhaegar��s ears twitched, and his gaze shifted. The woman��s skin was pale as parchment, her head shaved and marked with strange tattoos. A golden headdress concealed her true face. She was thin, with gold covering only her chest and lower body, her attire revealing more than it concealed.


    Rhaegar��s eyebrows furrowed slightly as he found himself captivated by her dark, gleaming eyes.


    Boom.


    An invisible air current swept through the Colosseum, casting ayer of gloom over everything. Her dark eyes were lifeless, like a stagnant pool, brimming with rigidity and numbness as if they sought to devour a person��s soul.


    ��Ssssshhhh����


    ��Croak����


    Rhaegar stared calmly back at her. Three spiritual creatures materialized on his shoulders, beings that existed between the physical and Spirit Realms: a dark serpent, a drab Dream-Eating Toad, and a Bat Worm with scarlet wings.


    The serpent, with its round head and t body, rolled over on its stomach. The Bat Worm flitted around its master, while the Toad sat atop a silver-blonde strand of hair, its dull, green eyes wide open, exuding a steady spiritual resistance.


    Rhaegar''s purple eyes grew colder as a flicker of ck me danced within them.


    Pop!


    The spiritual sh came and went in an instant, vanishing as swiftly as it had appeared.


    "Your Grace, good technique." The skinny woman��s voice was dry as she swayed her hips, stepping forward.


    Rhaegar''s expression hardened, his voice cold. "Who are you?"


    The woman had attacked without warning. If he hadn��t been as skilled, he might have sumbed to her strike.


    "Quaithe." She stopped three meters away, her hands resting on her small belly as she bowed her head in greeting. "Ie from Asshai and now serve the Thirteen."


    "I don''t believe they''d be foolish enough to send a witch who doesn''t know her ce to offend me." Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint revealing the murderous intent simmering beneath his calm exterior.


    Rumble��


    A dark, wed hooknded heavily on the seats above, and a hot air current, smelling of ash, descended over them, casting arge shadow across their heads. Quaithe nced up, her ck eyes shing with surprise.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal''s green, vertical pupils red down menacingly, baring fangs that smoldered with me as it locked its gaze on the woman like she was prey. Sensing its rider��s emotions, the dragon came to protect its master.


    "A majestic dragon," Quaithe murmured in admiration. "Even Balerion the ck Dread was no match for this one."


    "You''ve seen it?" Rhaegar silently drew ckfyre from his waist, his voice sharp.


    "It was thergest dragon in history," Quaithe said with a softugh. "No dragon has surpassed it to this day." She gestured toward the Cannibal. "This one is still young, but in a few decades, it will surely rewrite that history."


    Rhaegar''s face darkened, and the murderous intent around him grew palpable. The strange witches of Asshai, with their entric Spirit Magic and cryptic knowledge of history, were dangerous. The safest course was to kill her on the spot.


    "You''ve offended me," he said, stepping forward, his gaze carefully scanning their surroundings for any sign of a trap.


    "I apologize for my actions." Quaithe bowed again, tilting her gold breastte in a way that revealed arge expanse of soft skin. "But I havee for you."


    Just as Rhaegar��s eyes caught the exposed vulnerability, Quaithe shifted the conversation. "I sense winter and darkness rising from the far north. You should listen to me."


    "Oh?" Rhaegar��s mind raced, but he kept his voice measured. "And you know this how?"


    Quaithe��s gaze grew solemn. "It''s an army of the dead," she said in a deep voice. "The conqueror''s prophecy is about toe true. Heavy snow will cover thend, crops will wither beneath it, and both nobles andmoners will huddle by their fires��only to freeze to death."


    Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed, a flicker of interest shing across his face. "Go on," he said coldly.


    This woman knew much more than she let on. From her words, Rhaegar gleaned two vital pieces of information. The Others were indeed approaching, which was usible��rumors had spread from across the Narrow Sea. But more troubling was that she knew of the conqueror''s prophecy. That made her dangerous.


    Quaithe continued to speak eloquently, "If you want to survive this difficult time, I have three tips for you."


    "Do I need to say thank you?" Rhaegar wondered as he held the ckfyre mace.


    "No need. I no longer need the worldly goods of grain and money." Quaithe''s words carried a hint of otherworldly arrogance, and its dark eyes seemed to epass all things in the world.


    "A dead dragon never rots in the soil."


    "A man who cannot be killed cannot be on his knees."


    Rhaegar listened quietly, pondering the deeper meaning.


    Finally, Quaithe spoke a familiar phrase: "To go north, you must journey south. To reach the west, you must go east. To go forward, you must go back, and to touch the light you must pass beneath the shadow."


    ''This is not the content of thest words of the dragonless Vaegon,'' Rhaegar thought to himself. Paying attention to the words "north" and "east," "shadow," and others, an unfamiliar ce name came to mind.


    Rhaegar said cautiously, "You want me to go to Asshai, where there is a way to fight the Others?"


    Eastbined with Shadow, and only Asshai in the Shadow Lands fit the description.


    "You will get your answer." Quaithe gave a mysterious smile and turned to leave.


    Swish��


    A sh of ck light passed by, beheading the figure.


    Rhaegar maintained his sword-swinging posture and snorted, "ying God."


    Plop��


    The headless corpse fell to the ground, eerily not spilling a single drop of blood. Rhaegar''s pupils narrowed as he noticed this. White smoke billowed. The corpse melted like a candle, turning into a puddle of viscous water that seeped into the ground.


    "Your Grace, I wish you well in your trials." Quaithe reappeared in the dark corner, smiling and bowing.


    "Roar..."


    A jet of dark green dragonfire shot out, enveloping a wide area of the audience. Rhaegar held up a hand in front of him, staring through the mes at the graceful figure. A wisp of white smoke drifted by, and then the figure turned up at the entrance to the Colosseum.


    "What a strange technique," Rhaegar murmured, watching as the figure disappeared into the crowd.


    Yes, the crowd!


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal lowered its dragon head, its green vertical pupils locked on the Colosseum, and there wasn''t a single person in the vicinity. Why would anyone stay where the Deathwing appeared if they weren''t afraid of death?


    Rhaegar calmed his breathing and ran his palm along the de of his sword, cutting himself. A bloody wound appeared with a <em>zh</em> sound. Under the intense pain, the haze in his purple eyes dispersed, and his narrow field of vision gradually expanded.


    Rhaegar used the Serpent to heal his wound and couldn''t help butugh. "It''s still spirit power... a bit one-sided." He had been careless, thinking the spirit impact only had one round. Before he knew it, he had been distracted by the other person. But he had also gained a lot of information from the conversation.


    Rhaegar sat down with a frown, thinking, ''Quaithe... the conqueror''s prophecy... who on earth...?'' Her appearance gave no indication of his ethnicity. But from his exquisite High Valyrian, one could faintly hear an ent from the continent of Westeros.


    ''Themonnguage of the Westends, with its condescending view of the country folk,'' Rhaegar grinned, his thoughts gradually bing clearer. Having spent so much time with the brothers Jason and Tnd, the Westends ent was very familiar to him. Quaithe was trying desperately to hide it, imitating High Valyrian as if it were its native tongue. But in the face of Rhaegar''s proficiency in High Valyrian, it was like a grain of sand in wheat flour��he could tell at once.


    ''I hope it''s not who I think it is,'' Rhaegar gripped the hilt of his sword, a little doubtful. ''Really... living to this age, you can be such a genius. I will kill her next time I see her!''


    ...


    The North, The Wall.


    Rustling...


    Outside the Wall, tens of thousands of wildlings gathered, axes in hand, cutting down trees.


    "Are they building a fire to cook their food or preparing a siegedder?" Baelon asked, rubbing his cold hands together as he stood on the watchtower.


    The wildling army had been there for nearly half a month. The pressure they exerted hung like an indelible gloom, driving the Night''s Watch at Castle ck into a state of constant anxiety.


    "There''s smoke from cooking fires. The free folk need to fill their stomachs too," said Cregan, his eyes sharp and alert. "Tell the Night''s Watch to step up night patrols. We can''t rule out a night attack."


    "Yes, my lord," replied a Night''s Watch member, who, at the sound of the order, quickly left the two noble figures behind.


    Baelon''s small face was covered in frostbite, and he whispered, "With Uragax here, the wildlings won''t dare to do anything." He stamped his foot hard in frustration.


    "Roar..."


    A moss-colored old dragon curled up at the base of the ice wall, its massive body draped over the Wall like a green cloak. Thanks to this old dragon, whenever the wildling army attempted an attack, Uragax would take to the sky, circling overhead. At the sight of the enormous beast, the wildlings would retreat in fear.


    The situation had been at a stalemate for half a month.


    Cregan''s face was grim, but there was dissatisfaction in his tone. "Prince, you should return to King''s Landing for reinforcements. We can''t continue like this."


    "And what would happen to you if I left?" Baelon asked, concern in his voice.


    With the new batch of Night''s Watch recruits, only 3,000 men were defending the Wall. The entire North was buried in snow, and even Cregan, as a Lord, struggled to rally his advisors and gather fighters in these harsh conditions. If Uragax left, the wildlings would undoubtedlyunch a full-scale assault.


    "Prince, the North is home only to the people of the North," said Cregan with steely resolve, though there was a touch of helplessness in his tone. "I don''t mind telling you, even if your dragon has been losing its appetite for the past fortnight, the pigs and goats at Castle ck are nearly gone. We won''tst much longer."


    If they waited any longer, they would run out of food.


    "Roar! Roar!"


    Suddenly, a shrill cry echoed in the distance.


    Baelon turned, his breath catching as he looked towards the sound. A young light-green dragon was flying through the snow and wind, letting out a mournful, unwilling cry as it struggled against the storm.

 Chapter 659: Dragon Eggs!

    Chapter 659: Dragon Eggs!


    Night falls, and all sound ceases.


    The Wall.


    Snow nkets the top of the city walls, and the cold wind howls, whipping up the campfire and enveloping the Night''s Watch in the bitter night air.


    "Keep warm, everyone, and don''t let the fire die out," Cregan called out, his voice firm as he patrolled the battlements, carrying his house sword, <em>Ice</em>. Wind and snowshed at him as he made his rounds.


    He feared the watchmen on duty might sumb to the cold and hunger, drifting off to sleep��never to wake again.


    "My lord, our food reserves are running low."


    The voice came from a middle-aged man with a straight posture, streaks of white in his ck hair. He led the patrol with amanding presence that set him apart from the others.


    Cregan nced back and reassured him, "Commander Benjicot, just wait a little longer."


    The heir prince had already returned south along the same route, and royal reinforcements were on their way."My lord, perhaps you should call on your advisers once again for help."


    Benjicot ckwood''s face was grave, his tone leaving no room for debate. The wildlings watched the Wall with hungry eyes, and darker, unknown forces lurked beyond it. If the North couldn��t stand united, how could the southern lords be expected to give their best?


    Cregan fell silent, his mind churning. He hesitated, pondering Benjicot''s words.


    The current Lord Commander of the Night''s Watch had once been the Lord of Raventree Hall. The father of thete Lord Samwell and the grandfather of the current "boy," Benjicot, had seized a rare opportunity during the Bracken rebellion to block the way for Lord Bracken''s counterattack. When House Bracken was destroyed, the elder Benjicot confessed his crimes and took the ck, choosing to guard the Wall. His wealth of experience and keen abilities eventually led him to the position of Lord Commander. Approaching sixty, he was now known as the "Old Man of Castle ck."


    "My lord, prepare as quickly as possible," the elder Benjicot urged. He tugged at the ck cloak around his shoulders and sighed, turning to leave.


    Whoosh����


    A rough horn st shattered the silence of the night. mes erupted from the Haunted Forest, a dense wall of fire closing in on the Wall.


    Dum dum dum!


    The bells of Castle ck rang out in rm. Scouts shouted, "The wildlings are here, hurry!"


    Amidst the chaos of battle, three times the usual number of bonfires were lit along the Wall.


    "I''ll go down tomand Castle ck. The castle keep is yours," Cregan said, his face pale as he hurriedly descended the Great Wall. The only breach in the Wall was the tunnel gate, guarded by Castle ck.


    On the other side...


    Beyond the Great Wall, firelight spread across the wastnd.


    "Roar! I''ll go first!"


    A towering giant, eight meters tall, pounded his chest and roared, each step carrying him forward several meters.


    Withstanding a rain of arrows, he barreled toward the outer steel fence of the tunnel gate.


    ng! ng!


    He smashed his massive shoulders into the iron fence, dislodging chunks of ice and snow, but the gate held firm.


    "Bring the mammoths!"


    The giant shouted at another equally imposing giant, whose face was so frozen stiff he could make no further expressions. In each of his enormous hands, he gripped a mammoth covered in long, matted fur, dragging thick tree trunks as they charged.


    Behind them, the horde of wildlings surged forward, emboldened by the sight of the giants and mammoths leading the assault. They stormed the Wall like a tidal wave.


    To survive. To live.


    They had to cross the Great Wall and reim the fertilends their ancestors had lost.


    ...


    The next day, at Winterfell.


    It was a rare, beautiful, sunny day.


    "Roar..."


    Uragaxy prostrate by theke in the Godswood, feebly nibbling on a charred goat. Even with the clear skies, the chill was ever-present��too cold even for a dragon. Snow covered the ground a foot deep, untouched by the sun��s feeble warmth.


    Inside the castle, in the Great Hall, Baelon rose early and made his way to the dining table. Toast baked over a fire, fried eggs, and pork sausage wereid out before him. He took a sip of warm goat��s milk tea whenever he choked on the food, pping his chest to force it down.


    "It��s not bad," Baelon remarked, satisfied. It was already much better than the rations at the Wall.


    "Roar! Roar!"


    A cold wind whistled past the window, apanied by the restless neighing of the young dragon outside.


    Baelon walked over to the wooden-shuttered window and nced out. There, he saw Moondancer circling Winterfell. Its light green body resembled a butterfly, fluttering through the air, but its flight was chaotic in the sunlight, apanied by a harsh, discordant cry.


    "Moondancer is still not limatized to the cold," Baelon muttered, a grave expression crossing his face. He worried about the long winter ahead. If the young dragon couldn��t fight when war came, the House would be severely weakened.


    Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed down the hall.


    Ba appeared, bundled in heavy furs, her face flushed with excitement. "Baelon,e with me quickly."


    "What��s happened?" Baelon asked, noting the steam rising from her after her run. Targaryens rarely caught colds, and Ba had already recovered from her earlier illness.


    "Don��t dawdle. I promise you��ll be surprised," she said with a beaming smile, leading the way eagerly.


    Baelon followed, confused but curious. They left the castle and made their way to the crypts beneath the adjacent Godswood.


    Tick-tock, tick-tock...


    The crypts were dark and gloomy, built deep underground, with water dripping down the stone walls.


    <em>Click!</em>


    Baelon lit a torch, the sudden glow revealing something unexpected. "The crypts are warm," he said, surprised. The temperature here waspletely different from the bitter cold outside. It felt like stepping into a conservatory, heated by a zing hearth in the midst of a snowstorm.


    "ording to the old woman from Winterfell, there��s a hot spring beneath the crypt," Ba said excitedly. "They say there��s an active volcano under Winterfell, which is why it��s so warm down here."


    Baelon chuckled, shaking his head. "Unlikely. The hot spring is real, but it��s hardly an active volcano."


    Despite his dismissal, the hairs on his arms stood up. He could sense the presence of fire elements in the air. There were likely underground veins of heat, but they were far from volcanic activity.


    Ba smiled knowingly, her mind focused on something else entirely. They continued into arger, open tomb room. The warm air carried with it a strong stench of sulfur.


    Baelon wrinkled his nose at the smell, following it until he found the source: a dark heap of dragon dung, shiny and moist, piled in the corner like an oval stone.


    <em>Crack!</em>


    Ba picked up a stone and struck the outer shell of the dung. With a sharp sound, the casing broke away, revealing something incredible��a jade-colored dragon egg.


    "Look, Moondancer hasid eggs," Ba said, her excitement palpable. She waved Baelon over and continued digging through the dung with great enthusiasm. Soon, two more eggs emerged��one a brass color, the other a grayish ck.


    "A total of three dragon eggs," she said, her face glowing with joy. "The House''s wealth has just increased." No wonder Moondancer had been restless, sneaking off to the crypts toy her eggs.


    "We can��t keep the eggs here in the North," Baelon said seriously, picking up the jade-colored egg. "When we return to King''s Landing, these will be part of the House��s legacy."


    Lord Cregan wasn��t in Winterfell, and the people of the North were known for their rough manners and their hostility toward the South. Coupled with the harsh climate, the odds of the eggs surviving here were slim.


    "Very well. I��ll pack my things." Ba didn��t mind getting her hands dirty as she joyfully scooped up the two remaining dragon eggs. "Moondancer justid them, but she��s strong enough to fly to White Harbor."


    ...


    In the blink of an eye, half a month passed.


    King''s Landing, Dragonpit.


    "Roar!"


    "Roar..."


    The dragons roared anxiously, their walls marred by scratches and scorch marks, chains rattling with tension. A low rumble echoed through the Dragonpit as a massive, coal-ck creature burrowed its way inside. The roars fell silent.


    Rhaegar, who had just returned after a long journey, looked puzzled. "What''s going on?" he asked.


    "Roar!"


    A light gray dragon climbed onto the iron bridge, its slender tail swaying back and forth. With a powerful beat of its wings, it soared towards ckwater Bay. Flying alongside it was a young dragon, covered in ck scales, with scarlet dorsal fins and wing membranes.


    Rhaegar didn��t try to stop them. He slid down from his dragon��s back, still confused by the scene.


    Earlier that morning, they had spotted Silverwing, an ownerless dragon, circling over ckwater Bay before retreating to the smoky caves of Dragonmont.


    "Thank the gods, Your Grace, you��ve returned safely."


    Maester Maynard limped over, his pale face even paler than usual. Not only was one of his legsme, but the other was wrapped tightly in bandages.


    "Your Grace," came another voice, as the elderly Dragonkeeper approached, leading several of his wounded colleagues. Each bore fresh scars and bandages that had yet to fully heal.


    Rhaegar scanned the scene in surprise. "A riot in the Dragonpit?" he asked. He had only been gone a month��how could things have devolved so badly?


    The Dragonkeepers had tended the dragons for years. It was unthinkable for them to be in such a miserable state.


    Maynard, looking pitiful, spoke up, "The dragons have been like thistely, attacking anyone who tries to feed them or clean up after them."


    Sometimes it was a dragon wing striking out, other times a tailshing dangerously. The Dragonkeepers were constantly getting injured. "It��s really hard on the bones," Maynard muttered under his breath.


    Rhaegar frowned and turned to the elderly Dragonkeeper, whose face was full of grief. He had been among the first of the Dragonkeepers, working in the Dragonpit for decades.


    "The temperature has dropped suddenly, Your Grace. There��s frost at night." The old Dragonkeeper��s voice was low, and he murmured in High Valyrian: "The dragons are thest sacred magic of ancient Valyria. They sense danger��they are migrating to habitable ces in advance."


    Rhaegar fell silent, digesting the words. The three ownerless dragons��Silverwing, Grey Ghost, and Iragaxys��had all returned to live on Dragonstone. It seemed the dragons knew something the men did not.


    He hadn��t noticed the chill while riding on dragonback, but the air in King��s Landing was undoubtedly colder than it should be. It was only August, the time of the scorching sun. Yet the temperature in the Crownds, which usually bathed in the warmth of ckwater Bay, had dropped significantly. It felt more like autumn than summer.


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, a strange dragon''s roar echoed from deep within the Dragonpit, followed by the sound of something massive pping the ground.


    Rhaegar turned just in time to see his brother, Aemond, covered in dirt, climbing out of one of the pits.


    "Brother?"


    "Aemond?" Rhaegar called, startled.


    Aemond��s single eye widened in surprise. His already sallowplexion darkened even more as he saw Rhaegar.


    "What is that in your hand?" Rhaegar asked, noticing the odd object Aemond was holding.


    It was round, squishy, and covered in a brown, leathery shell. Barbs like briars jutted out from its surface, and it looked like a stinking, hardened lump of rotten meat.


    "A dragon egg," Rhaegar said, eyes widening in realization. "The Sheepstealer��s?"


    The egg��s unsightly, drab coloration could only belong to the wild and untamed Mud Dragon, known as the Sheepstealer.


    "Yes," Aemond grumbled, his face as ck as the bottom of a pot. He was clearly reluctant to speak. "I always thought the Sheepstealer was a male dragon. But here we are��sheid a big one."


    It had been a surprise. When the Dragonkeepers opened the pit, they found the ugly, brownish dragon egg hidden inside. There was only one, but it bore the unmistakable hue of the Sheepstealer��s scales. Small andpact, it was nheless a dragon egg.


    "Wow..." Rhaegar blinked, tilting his head with amusement. "Looks like you won��t need the royal family to produce dragon eggs anymore."


    He hadn��t expected the Sheepstealer toy eggs at all. That wild, unruly dragon was having a second spring, it seemed.


    "Roar!"


    The Sheepstealer slowly crawled out of its pit, its sly, vertical pupils dting as its thin tail swished back and forth.


    ''Where��s the egg?'' its gaze seemed to ask. There was a faint, uneasy scent in the air��perhaps a trace of Dragoneater. Hopefully, it hadn��t been eaten.

 Chapter 660: The Capital Has Moved into Harrenhal

    Chapter 660: The Capital Has Moved into Harrenhal


    The North, beyond the Great Wall.


    The Fist of the First Men.


    The crunch of footsteps in the snow echoed through the deste foothills. Three Night��s Watchmen, cloaked in ck, led their scrawny horses, trudging through the biting cold.


    "I say, we should find a ce to get warm," muttered a skinny young man, his teeth chattering. He had shifty eyes, and the way he hunched his shoulders and crossed his arms made him look even more wretched.


    "Shut up and save your strength," the burly Watchman beside him snapped, pulling his weary horse along. This was wildling territory, and at any moment, they could stumble upon a migrating tribe. There was no safe haven for the Night��s Watchmen beyond the Wall��here, they were the hated "Crows."


    "Quiet," whispered the third man, patting the skinny youth��s shoulder. "We need to find shelter before dark." He fished a piece of moldy dried meat from his cloak and handed it over. Supplies were running low, and hunger gnawed at them all. They could only survive by sharing what little they had.


    "Thank you," the skinny man whispered, his eyes flickering with gratitude. After a moment��s hesitation, he tucked the dried meat back into his cloak, patting his chest as if to remind himself of it. Before joining the Night��s Watch, he��d been a thief in the dungeons of the Red Keep, thrown into the cells without trial by the damned Master of Laws.


    <em>Clop, clop...</em>


    Suddenly, the sound of hooves broke the silence.All three froze. Without a word, they dropped to the ground, burying themselves in the snow. Their first thought was wildlings. They were Rangers sent to track the migration patterns of the Free Folk, but Rangers seldom lived long beyond the Wall.


    The wind howled, and the snow blurred their vision. Dark shapes began to form in the fog.


    They gripped their daggers, hands shaking as they stabbed their skinny, half-dead horses in the necks. Blood poured into the snow, and the animals copsed, their breaths shallow and fading. The horses could not be allowed to betray them.


    "Roar..."


    The sound of approaching footsteps grew louder, apanied by hoarse, inhuman groans. Beneath it, the faint tter of bones.


    <em>Clop, clop...</em>


    The wind began to die down, and the view cleared. The three men cautiously peeked out from the snow, and what they saw turned their blood cold.


    They were surrounded. Thousands of corpses��shambling, frozen, decayed��staggered through the snow. Ragged armor clung to their skeletal forms, bones grinding and rattling with every step. The stench of death and rot filled the air.


    The legion of the dead marched aimlessly, their lifeless eyes dull, controlled by some unseen force. They didn��t seem to notice the Night��s Watchmen. Or if they did, they simply didn��t care.


    "Woohoo..."


    The skinny youth let out a terrified whimper, his jaw hanging open in horror. One of hispanions quickly mped a hand over his mouth, dragging him down into the snow. The three of them huddled beneath arge stone, desperately trying to stay hidden.


    Time crawled by as the dead army passed. When it was finally gone, the Watchmeny there, frozen with fear, hardly daring to breathe.


    <em>Clop, clop...</em>


    The sound of hooves stopped nearby, sending a fresh wave of dread through them. The air grew unnaturally cold.


    The skinny youth, ever alert, turned his head in terror. His eyes widened.


    A pale-skinned figure sat atop a decaying horse, long hair whipping in the wind. Its glowing blue eyes locked onto them.


    The White Walker stared down at them, its gaze piercing, unfeeling. The creature��s hand slowly reached for its back, pulling out an ice-crystal spear.


    <em>Whoosh��</em>


    The cold wind howled as the Walker prepared to strike.


    "Ahhh!"


    A bloodcurdling scream pierced the frozen air, echoing across the snow, as if the very earth itself had fallen into purgatory.


    ...


    "Ahhh!"


    King��s Landing, the Red Keep.


    Visenya screamed, her tiny hand trapped in her brother Aegor��s mouth.


    "Hmph," Aegor grunted, biting down with determination, proving the old adage that even a cornered rabbit will bite. Drool dripped from his face, sour and sticky, as he gnawed on his sister��s fingers.


    "Aegor, stop biting your sister!"


    Rhaenyra rushed over, quickly pulling the two apart. She cradled Visenya, who was crying loudly, her small fingers bleeding from the sharp bite marks.


    "Why didn��t you do anything?" Rhaenyra demanded, shooting a sharp look at Rhaegar, who was calmly flipping through an ount book, seemingly oblivious to the chaos.


    <em>Bang!</em>


    Rhaegar closed the crude ount book with a thud, stretched, and walked over. Without a word, he reached into Aegor��s underpants and began pulling out golden dragons and silver stags. Then, not satisfied, he hoisted his youngest son upside down by the legs, shaking him gently.


    A cascade of coins ttered to the ground��gold, silver, and even half of a copper star.


    "Ooooh..." Aegor didn��t cry or fuss, only grunting in mild protest as his secret stash was exposed.


    Rhaenyra blinked in surprise, her face flushing red.


    "See? Your daughter did this," Rhaegar said, scooping Aegor back into his arms. He rolled his eyes as he exined, "Visenya��s been using her brother��s underpants as a piggy bank."


    Rhaenyra��s eyes widened in disbelief, and she turned her gaze to her daughter, who was still sniffling in her arms.


    "Visenya!" Rhaenyra��s face darkened, her voice filled with stern disbelief.


    Visenya��s eyes widened in terror as she realized she had been caught. The next moment, her ghostly wails echoed through the halls of the Red Keep.


    The attendants passing by kept their heads down, too afraid toment. They all knew what that sound meant: someone had just been disciplined.


    ...


    The siblings finished with the other pair and made their way to the council hall together.


    "Your Grace."


    Erryk,mander of the Kingsguard, nodded respectfully and saluted, pushing open one of therge doors with a single hand.


    On the opposite side stood another Kingsguard, Hall Reed, a short man with grey hair and green eyes, his youthful face betraying his shy nature. "Your Grace," he mumbled as he pushed open the door from his side.


    "You''ve worked hard," Rhaegar said with a small smile, taking Rhaenyra��s hand as they walked into the hall.


    The room was already filled with people��royal advisers, members of the House, all gathered around the council table. Once Rhaegar took his seat at the head, the discussions began.


    "Rhaegar, you want to move the capital?" Viserys asked, frowning deeply from within the thick nket wrapped around him. His voice was heavy with concern.


    "Moving the capital is no small matter," he added. "It��s being debated all across the Seven Kingdoms."


    Rhaenys, standing beside her cousin, also expressed her disapproval. "The decision affects more than just us. It affects everyone."


    Grand Maester Orwyle, Master of Coin Lyman, and Master of Whisperers Tormund exchanged uneasy nces but said nothing, though their faces clearly showed their apprehension.


    Meanwhile, some of the younger members of the family seemed uninterested in the weighty matters at hand. Hena yed absentmindedly with a sapphire, while her children, Viserion and Daenaera, sat by her feet. Aegon, eager for distraction, coaxed his children to go and yfully punch another pair of cousins.


    "Quiet, you idiot," Aemond muttered, grabbing Aegon by the cor with evident disgust. "You look like you''re sick." Despite his sharp words, the blue eye under his ck eye patch was zed, showing his own weariness.


    Rhaegar nced around the room, sighed softly, and addressed the council. "Winter ising. Harrenhal is a better location for stockpiling food and soldiers than King��s Landing."


    He let the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "King''s Landing is a rat��s nest with vulnerabilities on every side. Aside from the port, it''s far less defensible than other castles. Harrenhal, however, is in the warmer Rivends, with fertile farnd and Gods Eye Lake providing fresh water and fish. It��srge enough to house the royal family and store the grain we��ll need for winter. And," he added, "the underground magma chamber beneath the Isle of Faces has been developed��our dragons can winter there without suffering from the cold as they do in the Dragonpit."


    Viserys shook his head, his frown deepening. "King��s Landing has been the capital since Aegon the Conqueror founded the realm. The capital cannot be moved lightly. It��s more than just a city��it symbolizes the king��s authority. If we move to Harrenhal, what will the Seven Kingdoms think?"


    "And what of the people in the city?" Viserys pressed. "There are millions in King��s Landing. You can��t just abandon them. Harrenhal may be vast, but it can��t hold an entire city."


    Rhaegar remained calm, though his expression was serious. "Father, it��s not that simple. We aren��t abandoning them. If we don��t prepare for the winter, those same people will starve in King��s Landing."


    Viserys opened his mouth to protest again, but Daemon intervened, his interest piqued. "Brother, let��s hear him out." He turned to Rhaegar with a glimmer of curiosity. ''My nephew doesn��t make decisions rashly. Let��s see what he proposes.''


    Viserys reluctantly fell silent, though his attachment to the city was clear. King��s Landing had been his home for decades, filled with memories of joy and sorrow. He wasn��t ready to abandon it so easily, especially in his old age.


    "Father, winter ising," Rhaegar said, getting straight to the point. His tone was calm but carried the weight of certainty.


    "Winter?" Viserys blinked, momentarily confused by the sudden deration.


    Daemon and Rhaenyra exchanged a knowing nce, the conqueror��s prophecying to both their minds.


    Rhaegar turned to the assembled blood rtives and advisers, his face serious. "Heavy snow has already nketed the North, and the wildlings are attacking the Wall inrge numbers."


    He paused, letting the gravity of his next words sink in. "As far as I know, the heavy snow will spread across the entire Seven Kingdoms, bringing a cold not seen in a century."


    "Baelon wrote to you?" Viserys asked, a flicker of worry crossing his face as he thought of his eldest grandson.


    Rhaegar shook his head. "Not yet. But it��s clear the situation is dire. Harrenhal is easier to defend, and the Hall of a Hundred Hearths will be warm enough to ensure the survival of our House during these harsh times."


    Rhaegar��s words carried an unspoken truth��they couldn��t afford to flee to Essos unless absolutely necessary. Harrenhal and Dragonstone were their best options. But Harrenhal, with its fertilends and strategic location in the Rivends, was far superior.


    "Dragonstone is barren and dependent on maritime trade taxes," Rhaegar continued. "It��s notrge enough to house the royal family��s forces. Harrenhal, however, controls the Rivends, The Vale, and The Reach, stabilizing our rule over the Seven Kingdoms."


    Viserys��s expression shifted as he finally recalled the conqueror��s prophecy��the heavy snow in the North, the dragons growing restless. It all pointed to the disaster that had long been foretold.


    Rhaegar slid a ledger across the table toward Daemon and spoke solemnly. "We can��t make a spectacle out of moving the capital. Father and the dragons will go first. You��ll remain here as Hand of the King to keep the peace."


    King��s Landing would remain the capital in name, but the royal family needed to relocate for their survival.


    Daemon nced at the ledger, then chuckled. "No problem," he said, his tone light as he pulled his daughter closer. "Rhaena, you should stay with your foster mother," he instructed. "She��ll take care of the dragon hatchling for you."


    Rhaena��s eyes sparkled, and she instinctively took her brother��s hand.


    "Rhaena can return to Driftmark," Rhaenys interjected, her voice gentle as she stroked her granddaughter��s cheek. "She��s Laenor��s heir, and that hasn��t changed."


    Rhaena lowered her gaze, clearly unhappy with the idea. Daemonughed, noticing her reaction.


    "No rush," he said. "First, stay with Rhaenys and learn the court��s ways. There��s no need to hurry back to Driftmark."


    To Daemon, the notion of Rhaena inheriting merend was beneath her. It was better that she remain a true Targaryen.


    "Very well, then. It��s decided." Rhaegar brought his hand down on the table with finality. "Rhaenyra and I will move the royal household to Harrenhal. Aemond will stay to assist Daemon, and Hena will return to Summerhall."


    He began listing off names and assignments one by one. Hena was to return to her fiefdom. Daenerys��s, her sister Lyanna and Maekar would be sent to the Vale and Vntis.


    Jeyne would remain alone at the Eyrie, braving the winter. Daenerys, with her mastery of Stormcloud, was more than capable of keeping potential threats at bay.


    The Golden Fields had secured financial backing from Qarth, allowing Daeron to recruit soldiers and cultivate thend. Maekar, though young, had a talent for business, and his return to Vntis would allow him to oversee ver��s Bay and support Daeron��s mission.


    "Hena is leaving too?" Aemond frowned slightly, clearly displeased by the decision.


    Hena looked up, herrge eyes blinking with an innocent confusion.


    "Summerhall lies in the Dornish Marches, where the climate is warmer than Harrenhal," Rhaegar exined, his tone even. "With her presence in Summerhall, the Stornds and Dorne will be more stable."


    The Five Southern Kingdoms would remain under control, ensuring that the rest of Westeros��The North and the Westends��would not stir trouble during the harsh winter ahead.

 Chapter 661: Marching North to the Great Wall

    Chapter 661: Marching North to the Great Wall


    A few dayster...


    An army of 5,000 Unsullied marched out of King��s Landing, leading carts and horsesden with supplies for the transfer to Harrenhal. Above them, two scarlet dragons circled, their piercing roars echoing over ckwater Bay.


    ...


    Harrenhal, countryside farnd.


    "Hurry! Before summer��s end!"


    "Cut down all the trees! No manure pits forpost��everything goes!"


    Farmers bent low over the fields, their scythes slicing through the summer wheat. Not just wheat��the fields were being stripped of soybeans, beets��anything edible and storable was harvested early. Everything was being sent to Harrenhal, thergest castle in the Seven Kingdoms, now bing the center of winter preparations.


    <em>Creak!</em>


    A towering pine crashed to the ground, as several raftsmen jumped aside, shouting to one another. Pine and por trees fell one by one along the shores of the Gods Eye, timber to feed Harrenhal��s growing need for firewood.<em>ng!</em>


    Rhaegar stood by theke, his boots sinking into the muddy ground, axe in hand. He worked steadily, cutting through the thick trunks with slow, deliberate strokes. Though the sun shone brightly in the early summer sky, his mind was far from the warmth of the day. Winter wasing, and food and firewood were vital.


    Harrenhal had an abundance of fertilend, and the dense forest around the Gods Eye provided enough timber to fill the cers beneath the Widow��s Tower. The preparation was relentless.


    Rhaegar was absorbed in his task until the sound of light footsteps reached his ears.


    Rhaenyra appeared, wearing a simple ck dress, a basket hanging from her arm. She smiled as she approached. "Take a break, it��s time for lunch."


    Moving from King��s Landing to Harrenhal had felt like stepping into another life��a quieter, simpler existence, where the rustic farnd and muddy paths had a charm of their own.


    "Have the farmers eaten?" Rhaegar asked, setting down his axe and wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel.


    "They have. Everyone��s been fed," Rhaenyra replied, shaking her head with a softugh as she opened the basket. "Tens of thousands of farmers are working because of yourmand. Of course, they can''t go hungry."


    Harrenhal was vast, itsnds sprawling across the Rivends, and its poption had swelled under the king��s reign. The Mushroom Market, a bustling trading hub, was under its jurisdiction, known for its trade in mulberry silk, sweet wine, and sugar. Over the years, Rhaegar had discreetly encouraged the movement of vagrants and orphans to Harrenhal, bolstering its workforce. The castle��s prosperity now rivaled that of any in the Seven Kingdoms. If not for theck of a major port, it might have outstripped even the five great port cities, including Oldtown.


    Rhaegar chuckled as he picked up a piece of bread, spreading it with salted meat sauce. "You wouldn��t believe how much the poption of the Seven Kingdoms has grown over the years."


    "How much?" Rhaenyra asked, pouring him a cup of honey water.


    "Otto once tried to conduct a census, but the Lord of the Rivends chased him out," she added with a smirk. Poption was wealth, and few lords liked outsiders meddling in their affairs. When Otto Hightower had served as Master of Civil Affairs, Rhaegar had pushed him to carry out a thorough census��an effort that earned Otto the unfortunate nickname "Master of Shit and Piss."


    "About 120 million," Rhaegar said, taking a hearty bite of his meal.


    Rhaenyra paused, startled. "One hundred and twenty million? I thought 20 to 30 million was already a high estimate."


    She hesitated, brushing more meat sauce on her bread. The figure seemed impossibly high, especially given the limited productivity of Westeros. Could the kingdom really support so many people?


    "And yet, it is so." Rhaegar himself found it hard to believe, but the shadow that had loomed over the Seven Kingdoms for so many years made it clear. "The Rivends and The Reach alone have abined poption of over 50 million."


    This wasn��t just spection; the numbers had been carefully verified. During the reign of his great-grandfather Jaehaerys, the poption of Westeros had exceeded 100 million. It was a figure well-documented, as Jaehaerys and his queen had traveled the continent by dragon, conducting a personal census.


    However, under his father Viserys��s reign, poption growth had stagnated for a time. When Rhaegar ascended the throne, the toll of war caused the poption to plummet by millions��many of them adult men, along with women and orphans lost to the conflict. But under Rhaegar��s rule, with his protection of war widows and orphans,bined with the prosperity of the decade-long summer, the poption had rebounded swiftly.


    This growth was especially noticeable in the Crownds and the Vale, wherend had been reimed to house the homeless. With the Rivends at the core and extending outward to The Reach, the Crownds, The Vale, and Storm��s End, the total poption of the Seven Kingdoms now exceeded 100 million once again.


    Byparison, The North and Dorne remained sparsely popted, their numbers a fraction of the more prosperous southern regions. The Iron Inds, ravaged and broken, could no longer be counted. Only the Westends and the Stepstones still held rtive economic strength, buoyed by trade and resources beyond farming.


    "With so many people, they all trust you," Rhaenyra said softly, leaning against Rhaegar��s shoulder. Her voice carried warmth, her gaze reflecting her admiration. She understood the weight of leadership��being Queen of Lys was no easy task, let alone ruling all of Westeros with its seven kingdoms and nine great houses.


    "It��s all about survival. A King must fulfill his duties," Rhaegar replied. He finished his meal in a few swift bites, then stood up, pping the crumbs from his hands.


    He hefted his axe once more and swung it with precision. The crooked tree toppled to the ground with a satisfying <em>thud</em>.


    "Let��s head back," Rhaegar said, brushing off the dust. He took Rhaenyra��s hand, and they began walking back towards Harrenhal.


    The trees they felled needed to be properly dried; otherwise, they would rot and mildew. Harrenhal��s efforts to stockpile for winter were thorough. Norvos had a special mineral that could turn firewood into long-burning coals, making them easier to store. The forest around the Gods Eye had already been cleared and converted into coal for theing cold months.


    ...


    The next day, King''s Landing.


    Two green dragons soared over ckwater Bay, flying from the Mud Gate and circling above King''s Landing before descending slowly into the Dragonpit.


    The crowds in Silk Street and Flea Bottom erupted into cheers, chanting, "Long live the heir prince!" as they spotted the dragons. Unbeknownst to them, the king and the royal family had already quietly transferred to Harrenhal. The presence of the dragons in the Dragonpit and the heir prince''s return were symbols of life, stability, and peace.


    The Red Keep, the Small Council Chamber.


    Baelon and Ba, having safely stored the three eggs Moondancer hadid, convened a meeting of the Small Council in the name of the heir prince. The faces around the council table had shifted slightly.


    Daemon, calm andposed, sat in the seat reserved for the king. Aemond upied the former Hand of the King''s chair to the left. Across from him, Alicent sat quietly in the Master of Laws'' seat. The remaining advisers took their ces, eager to hear the purpose behind the heir prince''s unexpected return.


    "Prince, what is the situation in the North?" Grand Maester Orwyle asked softly, breaking the silence.


    "It��s not good," Baelon replied, his voice heavy with concern. He nced around at the council members before asking, puzzled, "Where are my father and grandfather?" He found it strange that neither of them hade to greet him, nor had his younger siblings.


    "They��re at Harrenhal," Aemond said, his single eye fixed on Baelon. He deliberately lowered his voice, a slight edge of menace creeping into his tone. "You can go find them if you like."


    Baelon frowned. <em>This is so tedious,</em> he thought, inwardly groaning at his uncle��s theatrics.


    Grand Maester Orwyle stepped in, offering an exnation of the events of the past fortnight, including why Queen Mother Alicent had remained in King��s Landing.


    "Harrenhal is cold and damp," Alicent said, her face showing clear distaste. "I��ve had my fill of that ce." She shook her head, recalling the years of istion she''d endured there. "I��d rather stay here in King��s Landing and face the cold than return to that miserable fortress."


    Daemon leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "You say the wildlings are attacking in force, and the North is running out of food?" His eyes darkened with concern. This was troubling news. The North was the realm��s first line of defense against the oing winter, and if things were dire there, it spelled even greater danger for the rest of the kingdom.


    "Why don��t we send supplies?" Lord Lyman, the Master of Coin, suggested, ncing around the room. "We have enough grain. The Crownds, the Rivends, and The Reach produce more than enough to feed the North."


    The long summer had been generous, especially in the south, where the harvests were bountiful and the people livedfortably.


    "It��s not enough, Lord Lyman," Baelon said, shaking his head gravely. "The North needs more than just food. They need all the support we can offer."


    With the approval of the other council members, Baelon took a bold step. "I propose we gather an army��10,000 strong��and send them north immediately to reinforce the Night��s Watch."


    Daemon sat back, crossing his arms as he considered the proposal. His silence indicated agreement. "We��ll need to inform your father about this," he said after a moment.


    "I��ll go find him," Baelon replied, his voice firm. He patted his chest, his young face filled with determination. ''I can��t let Lord Cregan down, and I won��t let the Wall fall while I do nothing.''


    ...


    Three dayster...


    Harrenhal, Water Gardens.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal twisted on the cobblestone floor, stretching its long neck as it unleashed a mighty roar. Overhead, a dozen dragons circled, their powerful wings stirring the thin clouds as they vied for space in the sky. Below them, in front of Kingspyre Tower, an army of 5,000 Unsullied stood at attention, their ranks perfectly still.


    "Ga-ga-ga..."


    Hundreds of ravens burst from the spire of Widow��s Tower, their ck wings beating furiously as they screeched, flying out to all corners of the Seven Kingdoms. Beneath the calm surface of Harrenhal, the seeds of war were quietly taking root.


    Kingspyre Tower, Hall of a Hundred Hearths.


    Viserys sat on the highest throne, frail and distant. His once sharp eyes now showed weariness. A nket covered his legs, offering littlefort as he silently observed the discussions unfolding below him. Most of the family had gathered, their voices mixing with the crackling fires that warmed the great hall.


    "We''re heading to the North. I want to lead the way," Aemond dered, a confident smile tugging at his lips. His single eye gleamed with determination.


    "Yes, yes, you go first," Aegon mumbled, nodding quickly. He shrank back, clearly relieved that his brother was volunteering for the frigid journey. The idea of braving the freezing cold of the North didn��t appeal to him at all.


    "You��re going too," Rhaegar said firmly, his gaze locking on Aegon. He wasn��t about to tolerate his brother��sziness. The threat of White Walkers loomed beyond the Wall, and the dragons were the realm��s best hope. As many Targaryens as possible would be needed in the fight.


    Aegon��s face fell, his earlier enthusiasm deting like a punctured balloon.


    Rhaegar turned his attention back to the room, his tone growing more serious. "We need to think carefully about how many dragons and troops to send."


    Ravens had already been dispatched across the realm, summoning lords and soldiers to prepare for theing battle. The number of dragons was critical, and not all could be spared.


    ''Father is too weak,'' Rhaegar thought, ncing at Viserys. ''Vermithor must stay here.'' The elderly king had grown frail, and his dragon, Vermithor, would remain behind to guard him.


    ''Aunt Rhaenys and Laenor will join us,'' Rhaegar added, his mind racing through the family��s assets. ''Laenor willmand the Vryon fleet, and they must reach the North before White Harbor freezes over.''


    ''Daemon can��t leave,'' Rhaegar noted. ''He and Caraxes are our main defense in King��s Landing.'' Daemon, with his fiery temperament, was a vital force that kept the capital secure.


    ''Hena and Daeron will tend to their own responsibilities. The older children will stay behind, including Baelon and Maekar.''


    "I��ll go with you," Rhaenyra interjected, stepping forward and taking Rhaegar��s hand. She pressed her shoulder against his, her determination clear. She wasn��t about to let her brother face the long winter without her by his side.


    Rhaegar hesitated for a moment, his heart heavy with the burden of leadership. But then he leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers in silent agreement. The King and Queen were stronger together.


    "Take us with you!"


    Ba and Rhaena approached, clutching the hem of their foster mother��s skirt. They were no longer children but young women, eager to prove themselves. The thought of being left behind with their younger siblings didn��t sit well with them.


    "Your dragons are still too young," Rhaenyra began, her hand gently brushing the cheeks of her foster daughters.


    "It��s fine," Ba insisted, her bravery shining through. "We can apany you. Winterfell is cold and bleak, but three dragons are better than one."


    "But..." Rhaenyra hesitated, her heart softening. She turned to Rhaegar, seeking his guidance.


    Rhaegar��s eyes met hers, and after a brief pause, he nodded. The strength of their family was in their unity, and Ba''s resolve was undeniable.


    With that, the final preparations were set. Rhaegar would lead the expedition north with Rhaenys, Rhaenyra, Aemond, Laenor, and Ba. They wouldmand eight dragons in total.


    The army apanying them consisted of 5,000 Unsullied, 3,000 Fearless, and 2,000 Gold Cloaks. The royal fleet would remain stationed between Harrenhal and King''s Landing, while the remaining forces would be summoned from the local lords.


    ...


    Time passed swiftly, and half a month had gone by.


    The Green Fork of the Trident, near Riverrun.


    An army of tens of thousands marched steadily toward the castle across the river. At the heart of the formation, the Unsullied in their ck armor moved with precision, their discipline unmatched.


    At the vanguard, 2,000 cavalry and archers from Riverrun, Raventree, Stone Hedge, and other Rivends strongholds led the way. Behind them, 3,000 logistical troops, gathered from both the Rivends and the Crownds, followed closely, ensuring the army''s supplies were well-managed.


    "Roar!"


    Overhead, a magnificent golden dragon soared above the army, its scales gleaming in the sunlight as it chased another dragon��a mud-colored, ungainly beast.


    The contrast between them was striking. The golden dragon radiated beauty and power, while the brown, mud-hued creature flew awkwardly, a stark opposition of grace and ugliness in the skies above the marching soldiers.

 Chapter 662: Bankruptcy of Oldtown

    Chapter 662: Bankruptcy of Oldtown


    The Twins, the Great Bridge.


    "Your Grace."


    Lord Forrest of The Twins greeted Rhaegar Frey of House Frey, his handsome, middle-aged face betraying his excitement. A noblewoman with sharp cheekbones and a stern expression followed closely behind, bowing slightly.


    "Lord Forrest, I have tens of thousands of troops behind me, so I''ll be depending on you," Rhaegar said, walking across the bridge over the rushing waters, dly epting Lord Forrest''s hospitality.


    House Frey was a rtively new house, its wealth built through control of the traffic on the Green Fork of the Trident. Its members were often known for their character ws andck of manners, but they had been loyal advisers to House Targaryen since the time of the Old King.


    "Don''t worry, I''ve already instructed my men to ughter the pigs and sheep," Forrest said, his voice generous as he promised, "In response to your call, I will personally lead 600 cavalry and 800 archers north with you."


    Forrest knew well that raising this many troops already pushed the limits of what was needed to safeguard House Frey.


    Rhaegar smiled slightly but did not immediately agree. "Not yet," he replied. "There are still many who haven''t arrived."


    Forrest looked puzzled and nced behind the king at the military lords of Riverrun. Soldiers from the Crownds, including those from House Rook''s Rest and House Rosby, were also present. As his eyes scanned the gathering, they fell on a yellow-jade dragon slowly descending onto the bridge."Your Grace!" Forrest''s eyes lit up as he called out from afar.


    Rhaenyra, dressed in ck dragon-rider attire, her silver hair tied back, stepped onto the bridge with a confident stride. Forrest, eager to impress, quickly ordered his men to fetch wine and fruit, fawning over the still youthful and striking Queen.


    "Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Forrest," Rhaenyra said as she graciously epted, picking up a plump red grape and cing it in her mouth. After a brief pause, she picked up another and fed it to Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar smiled wordlessly, enjoying the sweet, syrupy pulp.


    "Your Grace, pleasee and rest at the castle," Forrest said, his smile growing more sincere as he led the way with a light step.


    "Don''t lose yourposure, Forrest," the noblewoman beside him muttered, clearly unable to bear his obsequiousness, casting him a fierce re. Forrest immediately straightened up, his face turning red with embarrassment.


    The noblewoman snorted, then turned to Rhaegar and Rhaenyra with a smile that barely hid her disdain. "Pleasee, the Freys have prepared the finest banquet for you."


    "Thank you, Lady Sabitha," Rhaegar replied, the corner of his mouth curving up as he took Rhaenyra��s hand and led her toward the other end of the bridge.


    Rhaenyra nodded slightly, ncing at her brother. Rhaegar turned just in time to catch her gaze. The next moment, the two siblings exchanged knowing smiles.


    It was well-known that Lord Forrest of House Frey had once been one of Rhaenyra''s most ardent suitors. During Rhaenyra��s maiden years, known as the Realm''s Delight, she and her dragon Syrax had been the most dazzling figures in the Seven Kingdoms. The Lannister brothers, Jason and Tnd, had nearlye to blows over their courtship of her, but Forrest Frey had been even more determined, willing to do whatever it took to win her favor.


    Legend had it that on the night of Rhaenyra��s wedding, Forrest failed to arrive at Dragonstone as promised, too devastated to attend. Instead, he hid in The Twins, weeping for an entire night, and regretted it for half a year. His eventual wife, Lady Sabitha, though neither beautiful nor particrly kind, was clever and avaricious.


    It was whispered that she did not care much for men.


    "A bit miserable," Rhaegar whispered in Rhaenyra''s ear, feeling a hint of pity for the lovestruck man.


    "Then gofort him," she teased.


    Rhaegar let out a breath, leaning closer as he yfully brushed his lips against her ear. Rhaenyra��s cheeks flushed slightly, and she shot him a sharp re.


    When she had still been heir to the Iron Throne, Rhaenyra was most adored by the nobles of the Rivends and the Crownds. Both House ckwood and the now-destroyed House Bracken had hosted her and her dragon, Syrax, with great honor. Even after her marriage, the Rivends remained her preferred destination for receiving guests.


    The one ce she dreaded visiting was The Twins, seat of House Frey. Not only was Forrest Frey overzealous in his affections, but his wife, Lady Sabitha, had also made her desire for Rhaenyra quite clear.


    The couple, it seemed, shared the same obsession. A perfect match indeed.


    ...


    Night had fallen.


    Ten thousand troops made camp, cooking their meals over fires that lit up half the sky. Inside the castle, the hall was packed. Though not particrly spacious, it was filled with tables, chairs, and benches, and the best dishes were served to the guests.


    Up on the second floor, Rhaegar sat, clutching a raven in his hands.


    "Quack, quack..."


    He gently removed the small letter tied to the bird''s leg, and the raven flew off in a panic. As Rhaegar read the letter, the pleasant look on his face gradually faded, reced by a cold expression.


    "Your Grace, is something wrong?"


    Forrest, who was nibbling on a crab, asked anxiously.


    "It��s those lords who still haven��t arrived," Rhaegar muttered darkly, handing the letter over in frustration. "The Reach and the Westends aren��t that far apart, yet they��re dragging their feet on sending troops."


    "What? How dare they neglect you!"


    Forrest eximed, his eyes widening as he skimmed the letter. It exined that Lord Jason of Casterly Rock had fallen ill since his return from ver��s Bay, leaving the Westends without leadership and dying their military response.


    The situation in the Reach was somewhat better��Highgarden had sent 1,000 cavalry and 2,000 infantry, while House Rowan had provided 800 cavalry and 1,200 archers. Together, they had raised a force of 5,000 soldiers and were marching north through Bitterbridge.


    However, other houses had contributed fewer troops, and the Oldtown faction, along with House Tarly, had outright refused to send any.


    When Rhaenyra took the letter, she eximed, surprised, "The merchants from Qarth entered Oldtown and used loans to bankrupt the Oldtown Bank?"


    Earlier that year, young Lord Lyonel Hightower, supported by his uncle Otto and cousin Queen Alicent, had married the daughter of House Tarly��a shrewd woman named Samantha Tarly.


    Ambitious and driven, Samantha had championed the creation of the Oldtown Bank to bolster the Hightower family��s wealth. Her n had seeded, with many nobles and merchants from the Reach depositingrge sums of money at high interest rates.


    Yet the bank had gone under so swiftly.


    "The merchants of Qarth raised the interest rates and drove the Oldtown Bank into bankruptcy," Rhaenyra said gravely, her toneced with frustration. "Those damned vampires��they want to drain the Reach dry."


    Bankers were often seen as shameless. With the nobles of the Reach now financially tied to Qarth, the entire region was dependent on the foreign bankers. Whether that would prove a blessing or a curse remained to be seen.


    "The Oldtown Bank has copsed, and House Hightower is already expelling the Qarth merchants," Rhaegar added in a low voice. "But the merchants refuse to leave, so Lady Samantha has called on her brother, Lord n Tarly, to muster troops and rally the Oldtown nobles for war."


    Oldtown''s power was not to be underestimated. Many wealthy families in the region were vassals of House Hightower. For example, House Beesbury of Honeyholt, where the current Master of Coin, Lyman Beesbury, hailed from, was nearly as influential as some of the great houses.


    "The merchants of Qarth are refusing to leave," Rhaenyra said in disbelief, scanning the letter again. "And it says here that they produced... your personal agreement, allowing them to dock in any port?"


    Rhaegar stiffened, momentarily lost for words. Of course, he had signed that agreement. He��d anticipated Qarth causing trouble, but not to the extent of bankrupting the Oldtown Bank and forcing Lady Samantha to turn against them.


    "What should we do?" Rhaenyra asked softly, her voice cautious. "Should we notify Oldtown to halt the fighting and honor the agreement?"


    "No," Rhaegar replied, shaking his head. That would mean oppressing Oldtown. He won��t do that to his vassals.


    "Then what should we do?"


    Rhaenyra asked, her purple eyes flickering with uncertainty. She was out of ideas. After all, not abiding by the agreement could be a solution in itself.


    "Whoever causes trouble will be burned to death," Aemond, who had been quietly observing the situation, suddenly spoke up. His voice was cold as he added, "Qarth is just a city full of greedy bastards. I can crush them in two weeks, riding them down like Sheepstealers."


    "The royal family cannot take the lead in breaking promises," Rhaegar replied, maintaining a sense of dignity.


    Aemond��s face darkened with displeasure. "This isn��t allowed, that��s not allowed either," he scoffed. "Are you going to let the Qarth vermin do whatever they please?"


    "That��s an idea..." Rhaegar murmured, his mind racing.


    He couldn��t break his word, nor did he want to pressure Oldtown too much. But perhaps letting them handle Qarth themselves would serve both purposes��stall Qarth while allowing Oldtown to manage the problem. Once the North was dealt with, he could address this matter properly.


    "Qarth is not a strong city, brother," Aemond said, his one eye gleaming coldly as he drew his dagger and began to toy with it. His preference for a swift, decisive solution was clear.


    Qarth��s origins were shrouded in mystery, but its people had a long history of arrogance. As descendants of ancient Valyria, they looked down on all other races and cultures, none more so than the merchants of Qarth��a trade hub where multiple cultures intersected. To Aemond, they deserved to burn for meddling in Targaryen affairs.


    "We��ll wait a bit longer," Rhaegar decided. "Send a letter to Oldtown soon, offering some form of conciliation." He nced at Aemond, already considering the letter��s content. It would exin that the royal family was in a difficult position, subtly hinting that Oldtown should take matters into its own hands. If Qarth continued to be unkind, they shouldn��t be surprised if the Targaryens responded in kind.


    "I heard Lord n Tarly is a capable man��he fought in the defense of Prince''s Pass at a young age, didn��t he?" Rhaegar shifted the conversation smoothly.


    "Yes, n is skilled in martial arts and wields his house sword, Heartsbane," Rhaenyra added softly. "Lord Lyman��s grandson is also named An; he��ll likely join forces with Oldtown��s army."


    Rhaegar smiled slightly, then burned the letter over the candle��s me. "It��s a pity about Oldtown��s forces. Otherwise, The Reach would have had thousands more troops."


    "And what about the Westends?" Aemond asked, his thirst for battle evident as his gaze shifted toward House Lannister, who had continually stalled.


    "Lord Jason is unwell," Forrest interjected, his tone skeptical. "That man��s always been greedy and miserly. Could it be that he��s using this illness as an excuse to avoid sending troops?"


    House Lannister was a cunning one. Its ancestors had seized Casterly Rock through deception, and it wouldn��t be surprising if they withheld aid unless they saw some profit in it��especially when the help was intended for the North.


    "Send word to Tnd," Rhaegar ordered after a moment of reflection. "Tell him to urge Lord Jason."


    The Westends were crucial, but they had always been a somewhat independent region within the Seven Kingdoms, less susceptible to royalmands. Westeros itself was divided into eight parts, with the North, Westends, and Dorne functioning as the most autonomous. Even royal decrees struggled to hold sway in thesends. Since the Conquest, to stabilize the realm and curb potential rebellion, marriages had been arranged with the Vale and Stornds, and alliances formed with the Rivends and Reach to bnce power between the regions. Now, while helping the weak North and vtile Dorne was necessary, the prosperous and powerful Westends posed a greater concern.


    "Why don��t I go to Casterly Rock and take a good look at Jason myself?" Aemond smirked as he stabbed his dagger into the table, his eye gleaming with menace. To him, the Lannisters were no different from the merchants of Qarth��both deserving of death for defying the king��s will.


    "Give Jason one month," Rhaegarmanded. "Let Tnd deliver the message. If he��s still unwell by then, I��ll send Daemon to ��cure�� him personally."

 Chapter 663: Capturing the Children of the Forest

    Chapter 663: Capturing the Children of the Forest


    Time flew by, and another half-month had passed. The army left The Twins, officially entering the swampy, mrialnds of the Neck.


    "Roar!"


    A golden dragon soared above the dense jungle, guiding the army below. The force had swelled since their departure, with more feudal lords from the Rivends sending troops. House Arryn of the Vale led an alliance of 3,000 Knights of the Vale and 5,000 archers and foot soldiers. More forces continued to gather.


    Clop, clop, clop...


    The horses'' hooves trampled the rotten mud, sending foul-smelling sludge sshing into the air. Rhaegar rode alongside thecquered white Round Pce carriage. As the curtain parted, it revealed a pretty face.


    "A letter from Lord Rowan. The Reach army has crossed The Twins," Rhaenyra said with a bright smile, holding the letter in her small hands.


    With the arrival of the Reach army, their northern force would soon number 30,000 strong.


    "Put it away for now. There are too many mosquitoes here," Rhaegar replied, waving at the swarm of insects as he gently drew the curtain closed.


    "We should ride the dragons," Rhaenyra suggested, leaning against the window ledge and pping her small hands together. The curtains framed her head, leaving only her bright purple eyes visible.Rhaegar pulled the curtains fully shut, teasing, "We''re almost at Greywater Watch. Next time, just say so sooner."


    "Mm-hmm~~" Rhaenyra hummed, retreating into the carriage as she embraced her adopted daughter, whispering softly to her.


    The Neck was a natural fortress, sapping the morale of any army that dared pass through it. Furthermore, this was a coalition army, hastily assembled from various kingdoms,cking true organization. The king''s presence, however, boosted cohesion and ensured the arriving forces would follow the same path.


    ...


    The sun set, and dusk gradually settled over thend. In the depths of the jungle, a gray castle covered in rubble appeared before the army. It was neither majestic nor grand��short, old, and weathered. Standing alone in the ck and green forest, it resembled a watchtower gazing into the distance.


    "Finally, my aching back!" Aegon grumbled, his face twisted with difort.


    Rhaegar dismounted, looking up and around.


    "Roar..."


    A loud, muffled dragon''s roar echoed from deep within the forest, its enormous body hidden among the trees. Sunfyre and Sheepstealer hadnded earlier and were now being herded by the Dragonkeepers as they fed. Above, three dragons hovered in the sky. Syrax slowly descended toward the tower of the gray-white castle, while Moondancer and Morning circled each other like dancing butterflies.


    "Your Grace, please forgive the modest conditions of Greywater Watch," Hall Reed, one of the Kingsguard, said respectfully as he led the way. Hall, born to House Reed of Greywater Watch, was the youngest son of the previous Lord Reed. Skilled in martial arts and keenly intelligent, his return to Greywater Watch was like a soning home.


    "Anyone who hosts the king is treated kindly, no matter the circumstances," Rhaegar replied, recalling his correspondence with Lord Reed.


    Creak.


    The doors of thecquered white chariot swung open, and Rhaenyra, dressed in ck, stepped down gracefully.


    "Roar!"


    A pale pink Morning pped its wings and flew toward her, itsrge body crashing into the side of the chariot. Mud sttered in all directions, just as Rhaena stepped off, catching some of it.


    "Haha, Morning loves you so much," Ba mocked from behind, a smirk on her face.


    Rhaenyra patted her skirt, checking to see if any mud hadnded on her, then took Rhaegar��s hand naturally.


    Shortly after, Lord Bard Reed of Greywater Watch emerged and warmly invited the group into the castle.


    "Your Grace, pleasee inside."


    ...


    Night had fallen.


    In the dimly lit bedroom of Greywater Watch, the quiet was broken by a sharp crack. The tallow candle on the Weirwood table sputtered, spitting out sparks. Rhaegar sat at the table, carefully reviewing letters from King''s Landing and various factions.


    The main issues revolved around Golden Fields and Oldtown. Daeron had secured a loan from Qarth, recruiting arge number of homeless people to join the efforts of reiming thend. A Dragonstone Castle, on the shores of Dagger Lake, was steadily taking shape, with newnd being extended outward to establish a foothold for the town.


    But the situation in Oldtown was tense. House Hightower and the merchants of Qarth were at odds, and the young Lord n Tarly had gathered 1,000 archers, 800 infantry, and 200 cavalry, ready to strike at a moment��s notice.


    "Still reading the news?" The door creaked open, and Rhaenyra entered, freshly bathed, her long silver-and-gold hair still damp. She approached slowly, drying her hair with a cloth. Her ample chest pressed against Rhaegar''s back as she leaned over, peering at the letters scattered across the table.


    "It''s all trivial matters," Rhaegar muttered, leaning back into her, resting his head in the curve of her neck, where the sweet scent of her skin enveloped him.


    "And a letter from Baelon," Rhaenyra said with a smile, picking up an unsealed letter. It spoke of preparations beingpleted at Harrenhal, with the Rivends and the Vale mobilizing for theing winter. King''s Landing remained mostly peaceful, though prices had begun to rise, and half a month ago, in the middle of August, a sudden chill had swept through the city. Firewood and warm clothing were bing scarce, with Qohor''s cheap wool and mulberry silk flooding out of ckwater Bay.


    "The ten years of perpetual summer arepletely over," Rhaegar said gravely, ncing up at Rhaenyra. He whispered, "I predict it will start snowing by mid-September. The people of the Seven Kingdoms are going to suffer."


    Snowfall in September was rare outside of the North, especially in the Vale. Ten years of summer had caused the people to forget the harsh cold of winter. How many would perish in the snow this time?


    "I will be with you," Rhaenyra murmured, rubbing her forehead against his. "We will defend the Wall, drive back the cold and the darkness from the North, and everything will return to normal."


    Rhaegar closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of soapberry from her hair, his mind turning to the looming battle against the White Walkers. The conqueror��s prophecy weighed heavily on his heart. Thest time mankind had fought the White Walkers was 8,000 years ago. He remembered the ancient murals he''d seen as a child in the underground mines of Dragonstone, their hideous faces etched in stone.


    How could he wield his sword against the dead and such monsters?


    "I hope they can withstand Dragonfire," he murmured with a wry smile as he rose and made his way to the bed.


    Outside the castle, the army was encamped three li away. Bonfires dotted the horizon, casting a glow that illuminated the night sky, while the distant, chaotic singing of soldiers echoed faintly.


    As the night deepened, dark clouds rolled in, veiling the bright moon.


    "Cuckoo, cuckoo..."


    The sound of birdsong drifted in through the window, clear as though the birds were perched just outside. Rhaegary down on the hard bed, burying his head against the warmth of Rhaenyra��s bosom. Slowly, he drifted into sleep, where hazy dreams began to take shape.


    White.


    A vast, endless expanse of pure white stretched out before him, as if the sky and earth had merged into one. Heavy snow nketed everything in sight, and a biting wind howled fiercely through the destendscape.


    Tap, tap, tap...


    A rotting warhorse, frozen and decayed, trudged slowly through the snow. One of its blue eyes dangled grotesquely from its socket, still loosely connected by strands of blood and tissue. Rhaegar stood amidst the snow, his expression confused as he took in the strange sight. The horse passed by, itsrge hoof, covered in thick white hair, resembling that of a snow beast as it mped onto its belly.


    "A dead horse?" Rhaegar muttered, his mind slowly processing the unnatural sight. His eyes narrowed as he looked closer.


    Boom.


    Suddenly, his gaze locked with a pair of cold, icy blue eyes, as lifeless and chilling as death itself. Rhaegar��s pupils contracted, and he instinctively reached for his sword at his waist.


    "Hmph..."


    The rotting horse snorted heavily, its blue-eyed rider moving further away with each slow, deliberate step. The rider was a hideous creature��pale, wrinkled skin stretched tightly over its skeletal frame, with messy white hair framing its face. The creature''s blue eyes scanned its surroundings, cold and merciless, brimming with aggression.


    For a fleeting moment, Rhaegar thought the creature had spotted him.


    But no��it rode on, pausing briefly at certain spots, as though marking thend.


    "Is that... a White Walker?" Rhaegar��s eyes widened in disbelief. His heart raced as he watched the figure vanish into the blizzard. If this truly was a White Walker, it would confirm all his darkest fears. The Conqueror''s prophecy, the ancient murals in the Dragonstone mines, the prophecy of Norvos��it was all real. Everything he had prepared for wasn��t just an rmist fantasy.


    Flutter, flutter, flutter...


    With a mere wave of the rider''s hand, the snow bulged and shifted. From beneath the frozen ground, thousands of corpses and skeletons began to w their way out, rising to form an undead army. The strange rider looked on with satisfaction as the dead gathered behind him, then continued forward on his decaying warhorse.


    Rhaegar stared, utterly overwhelmed. The sight of the dead resurrecting before his eyes struck him to the core. It reminded him of the Shadowbinder��s curse he had once witnessed as a child, stranded on Crackw Point. The curse had fed on the shadows of the dead, growing ever stronger, spreading like an unstoppable cancer until it devoured everything in its path.


    Pop.


    Just as he prepared to observe the rider further, the dream shattered.


    "Cuckoo, cuckoo..."


    The sharp sound of birds chirping cut through the haze. Their calls seemed more urgent than before. Rhaegar slowly opened his eyes, shaking his head to clear the remnants of the vision.


    "Rhaegar, I''m sleepy," Rhaenyra mumbled beside him, her voice soft and drowsy.


    Rhaegar groaned, a terrible headache pulsing through his temples. He propped himself up on one hand and rubbed his forehead. As he shifted beneath the quilt, something felt off. He frowned, lifting the edge of the quilt to reveal the pale, mottled Weirwood nks beneath.


    Suspicion crept into his eyes as he quietly slipped out of bed. Leaning down, he kissed Rhaenyra��s flushed face softly and whispered, "I''ll be back in a bit."


    He grabbed the shirt from the bedside table, buckled his sword, ckfyre, to his waist, and headed toward the door. Before stepping out, he nced out the window, his mind still heavy with the memory of blue eyes and the rising dead.


    ...


    Greywater Watch, the swamp.


    A silver-haired figure moved steadily through the thick brush and tangled obstacles, following the faint trail left by animals. Rhaegar didn��t know how long he had been walking, but he pressed on. Soon, a low-growing species of Weirwood came into view, its crimson leaves stark against the darkness.


    Whoosh.


    As Rhaegar halted, a figure flickered into view. It was small and thin, norger than a child. In the moonlight, its skin appeared green, draped in rough animal hides.


    "-~~"


    The figure paused briefly in front of the Weirwood, muttering something iprehensible to Rhaegar before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. But even in those brief moments, Rhaegar had seen enough��hair like bark, eyes filled with ancient wisdom, and rags hanging from its frail frame.


    Stunned, Rhaegar stepped closer to the Weirwood. The tree''s trunk was thick and sturdy, a sorrowful face carved deeply into its surface. In the dim light, the face seemed to bear its suffering, as if confessing long-held pain.


    "Did you lure me here?" Rhaegar muttered, eyes narrowing as his hand hovered near the trunk.


    Silence.


    The swamp, the trees, everything was enveloped in an unnatural quiet. Rhaegar��s face hardened. He mmed his hand against the pale bark, his voice sharp. "Ungrateful!"


    Zi!


    Dark scales began to form on his forehead, horns pushing through as ck mes surged along his fingers. The mes consumed the Weirwood, charring its bark in an instant, while the red leaves caught fire and burned like tinder.


    "Ahhh!" A piercing scream echoed through the air as a magical ripple pulsed from the tree.


    Thud.


    A small, green figure tumbled to the ground.


    Swish!


    In a sh, the de of ckfyre was at its throat. The creature froze, its hand halfway to its waist, too terrified to move further.


    "Children of the Forest," Rhaegar hissed, his gaze cold. He pressed the sword harder against the creature''s throat. "Did you lure me here on purpose?"


    "-~~" The creature gestured frantically, as though trying to exin itself.


    Pah!


    Rhaegar struck it across the face with the t of the de. His voice was ice. "Speak human words."


    "I lured you here," the Child of the Forest admitted instantly, now speaking fluent Common Tongue, fear evident in its trembling voice.

 Chapter 664: The Cold God and the Night King

    Chapter 664: The Cold God and the Night King


    The dark clouds gradually dispersed, allowing the moonlight to bathe the earth. The ckfyre��s mes extinguished, leaving the Weirwood charred and reduced to ashes. Rhaegar stepped on the fallen Child of the Forest, raising ckfyre slightly as he loomed over it.


    "Who are you, and why did you lead me here?" he demanded, his mood soured from being woken in the dead of night.


    The Child of the Forest, small and timid, whispered in a soft, trembling voice, "You may be the Prince from the prophecy. You were meant to receive guidance from the Heart Tree."


    "Heart Tree?" Rhaegar echoed, ncing at the ckened Weirwood behind him, skepticism flickering in his eyes. <em>Is this the supposed divine guidance they offer?</em>


    The Children of the Forest were once mysterious and revered, legendary beings. Yet, as Rhaegar looked down at the frail creature beneath him, he couldn��t help but think of their fall. First defeated by the First Men with their bronze weapons, then the First Men were overthrown by the Andals wielding iron. In the end, the Dragonlords of Valyria drove away the Andals, cementing their ce at the top of the world��s hierarchy.


    He stared at the Child with a strange expression. "You''re weaker than I imagined," he said coldly.


    The Child of the Forest looked up, defiant despite its fear. "We have magic," it retorted sharply, its voice shrill, hands waving in frustration. "We don��t need the brute strength of a stupid giant."


    Rhaegar��s eyes darkened, his patience wearing thin. The creature at his feet was small and delicate. Judging by its facial features and the bandeau around its chest, it was female, with chestnut curls,rge green eyes, and round ears��nothing like the mythical creatures described in history books.


    <em>History often falls short whenpared to reality,</em> Rhaegar thought with a sigh, releasing his grip on the tiny figure."I really do have magic!" the Child of the Forest huffed, rising to its feet. In a fit of frustration, it rummaged in its pocket and pulled out... a pumpkin. Without hesitation, it hurled the pumpkin toward the swamp.


    Boom!


    The pumpkin exploded with a force that startled even Rhaegar, its st powerful enough to rival a young dragon��s Dragonfire. His eyes widened in surprise as he assessed the destruction.


    "See?" the Child of the Forest said, its green eyes gleaming as it sensed an opportunity. "I can help you. I will guide you to the way to fight the cold and the darkness."


    Pop!


    Rhaegar��s hand cracked across the Child��s face, sending it sprawling back onto the ground with a shocked grin. He bent down, yanking the torn pocket off the creature��s animal-skin skirt.


    "Give it to me," he demanded coldly, pocketing the strange weapon. <em>Why lure me here with tricks if you weren��t going to share something this useful?</em> he thought. A race as weak as theirs should have remained hidden, huddled in the shadows.


    "Ahhh!" The Child of the Forest, enraged and humiliated, yelled in frustration. "The White Walkers areing! Do you want to win this war or not?!"


    Her magical weapons��her greatest leverage��had been stolen, and the human dared to strike her.


    "You know how to fight the White Walkers?" Rhaegar asked, eyeing the Child of the Forest with renewed interest, though most of his attention remained on how many more "pumpkins" the creature had in its pocket. One, two, three, four... Six or seven, he estimated. He thought about giving a few to Rhaenyra for self-defense.


    "I know how to <em>kill</em> them," the Child of the Forest replied, clenching its small fists. From its waist, it drew a ck dagger made of dragon ss. "Obsidian contains traces of fire magic. It can break the Cold God''s curse on the White Walkers."


    At this, Rhaegar''s expression turned serious. He didn��t reach for the dagger this time. Dragon ss��also called obsidian��was rare in Westeros. Fortunately, there was a known deposit under Dragonstone.


    "Dragon ss... It can truly kill a White Walker?" Rhaegar crouched down, picking up the frail figure before him.


    The Child of the Forest clutched the obsidian dagger tightly to its chest, watching Rhaegar''s every move. "Yes. White Walkers are the physical embodiment of the God of Winter on Earth. Only fire magic��its opposite��can counter them."


    The creature paused, its voice turning more menacing. "My people possess many obsidian weapons. I can provide them to help you fight the White Walkers."


    "Thank you," Rhaegar replied, though his tone remained t, as if speaking to a child. He then asked, softly but with growing curiosity, "Who is this ''Cold God''? Even the White Walkers have a faith?"


    This was the first time he��d heard of such a deity. The First Men believed in the Old Gods, the Andals in the Faith of the Seven, the Valyrians had their own gods... <em>What kind of god is the Cold God?</em> Rhaegar wondered. Could it be like the Faceless Men''s God of Many Faces, or the Ironborn��s Drowned God, born out of specific experiences and cultures?


    "The Cold God is the embodiment of winter itself��of cold and darkness," the Child of the Forest exined with both anger and fear in its voice. "He created the White Walkers and uses them to lead his army of the dead."


    Rhaegar frowned, still puzzled. "Does the Cold God have a physical form, like the Heart Tree?"


    He needed to know whether this god was a tangible force, or just an abstract figurehead, like the Seven. Many gods had shown signs of existence��the Heart Tree, the Lord of Light��but what of this Cold God?


    "No one knows for sure," the Child of the Forest admitted, its eyes clouding with memories. "But the Cold God cannot be killed. He has taken the form of a human leader tomand the dead."


    "The Night King?" Rhaegar guessed.


    "Yes." The Child of the Forest nodded eagerly, hope flickering in its eyes. "The Night King hasn��t awakened yet. You still have time to defeat the wights."


    Rhaegar paused, his mind racing as he tried to piece everything together. The Conqueror''s prophecy was real. The Night King and the wights were real. But the Night King, while powerful, was not necessarily the Cold God itself��just its human embodiment.


    The Night King still slumbered in the Land of Always Winter, while his White Walkers had already stirred beyond the Wall. Their movement had rmed the Children of the Forest, driving them south, seeking help from those who might stand a chance.


    "So..." Rhaegar��s thoughts shifted as he regarded the Child of the Forest with a calcting gaze. His voice turned cold as he posed his question, "Why should I help you?"


    The Child of the Forest froze, startled by his bluntness. "The White Walkers will cross the Wall," it said anxiously. "You and your people will die."


    "Not necessarily," Rhaegar replied, a confident smile spreading across his face. "The White Walkers can��t swim, can they?"


    He considered the natural defense of Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, where the Wall met the cold, fast-moving waters of the Shivering Sea. If he moved his House across the Narrow Sea to Essos, the White Walkers would be unable to follow.


    "Those are your advisors speaking!" the Child of the Forest insisted, its voice urgent. But it failed to grasp the full cunning of human nature. Wasn��t it the duty of a king to protect his people, even if it meant abandoning thend? Hadn��t the hero Azor Ahai made simr sacrifices 8,000 years ago?


    Rhaegar chuckled softly, brushing his hand through the Child��s chestnut curls. His tone was light, but his words were sharp. "I��m no Warden of the North. I have no reason to sacrifice everything."


    He could lead the people of the Seven Kingdoms to safety, just as the Warrior Queen Nymeria had once done with the Rhoynar, fleeing from their doom. But if he was to stay and fight, the Child would have to show him that victory against the White Walkers was within reach��and give him a reason worthy of the risk.


    The Child hesitated, its green eyes narrowing. It opened its small hand, which had been plucking leaves nervously from its hair, and spoke with renewed sternness. "What do you want, greedy Valyrian?"


    The Child''s resentment was clear. Once, the First Men had been their most fearsome enemies. Then came the Andals, even more ruthless. And the Valyrians��the cruelest of all��had crushed them both.


    Rhaegar smiled, the look of triumph unmistakable. "Your pumpkins," he said casually. Then, his voice hardened, like the roar of a dragon. "And the magic of the Children of the Forest��including their obedience and loyalty to their king."


    "You want the Children of the Forest to <em>serve</em> humans?" The Child''s voice rose in shock, and it spun around in a frantic circle. With its small frame,rge ears, and sudden movements, it looked like a panicked squirrel.


    "Why not?" Rhaegar shrugged, unfazed. The Children of the Forest possessed ancient magic and legendary knowledge. And the Targaryens, with their dragons and lineage, were an old and noble House��one thatmanded respect. "As they say, ''Empty vessels make the most noise.'' It��s time for a forgotten n to resurface, to share the burden with the Targaryens and their dragons."


    Besides, Rhaegar thought, those pumpkin bombs were highly effective. Who knew how many could be produced or what other magical weapons the Children might be hiding?


    The Child stepped back, fear and indignation shing across its face. "No," it said, shaking its head. "We signed a pact with the First Men, agreeing to live in peace."


    <em>Humans cannot be trusted,</em> the Child��s mind screamed, drawing from centuries of bitter experience. <em>Safety lies in staying far away from them.</em>


    Rhaegar stood up, resting his sword, ckfyre, on the ground. "Am I a First Man?"


    The Child of the Forest froze, taken aback. Of course not��Rhaegar was a Valyrian, one of the ancient and fearsome dragonlords, far more dangerous than the First Men.


    Rhaegar��s lips curved into a soft, gentle smile. "Then what do I have to do with the agreement you made with the First Men?"


    "The Children of the Forest and humans can��t coexist," the creature replied impatiently, clearly agitated. Its mind raced, searching for an answer. "Dead men can��t swim, but the White Walkers are intelligent."


    Rhaegar crossed his arms, listening intently.


    "We once shattered the Arm of Dorne," the Child said gravely, its eyes full of warning. "The White Walkers know ice magic, and they could cross into the maind the same way��through the remnants of the Arm."


    Rhaegar��s expression darkened, the weight of the threat sinking in. The Child of the Forest, sensing his fear, pressed on. "If the White Walkers aren��t stopped, countless living people will be turned into wights, and the world will fall into cold and darkness."


    Even the Children of the Forest would be hunted down and destroyed by the White Walkers. They had nowhere to hide if the dead came.


    Rhaegar sighed, sheathing ckfyre. "Allegiance can wait. For now, let��s focus on what else can stop the White Walkers."


    Without hesitation, he scooped up the small Child of the Forest with one hand and started back toward Greywater Watch, striding through the swampy terrain. In his eyes, the creature was already a prisoner��and he would extract every bit of value from it.


    The Child��s mood brightened, and it spoke eagerly. "Your sword, ckfyre, and the dragons in The Neck��they''re all weapons against the White Walkers. Your army needs to be armed, and I can provide thousands of obsidian weapons."


    Rhaegar didn��t show much reaction, remaining indifferent. "I��ll send word to King''s Landing immediately. They��ll begin mining more dragonss."


    But his thoughts wandered back to the mysterious "pumpkin bombs." He had never seen them before, but their power was clear��they were easier to use and more convenient than wildfire.


    As they neared Greywater Watch, Rhaegar asked, "What��s your name?"


    The Child of the Forest, now resigned to its fate, answered listlessly, "Billbo."


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow, finding the name oddly endearing for such a strange creature. "That doesn��t sound like a woman��s name."


    "Children of the Forest don��t need to mate," Billbo replied tly.


    Rhaegar smirked, already imagining Rhaenyra��s surprise and delight when he presented this strange new ally.


    ...


    The North, The Wall.


    Night had fallen, and the cold wind howled through the frozen expanse.


    Bang! Bang!


    "Roar! Put your backs into it!" A desperate voice echoed across the battleground as two giants mmed their massive bodies against the iron bars of the Wall��s gate, loosening the ice spikes that clung to its surface.


    Arrows, burning with mes, embedded themselves in the wildlings, their bodies dripping with blood as they struggled to press forward. A ring of fire, fueled by oil, zed on the ground, holding back the wildling horde. Neither side dared to make the next move��the wildlings unable to breach the Wall, the Night��s Watch unwilling to step beyond its protection.


    Only the two giants remained, throwing themselves against the gate in a desperate attempt to break through, enduring the cold wind and scorching heat of the mes. The fire singed their hair, and the ice on their heads melted, trickling down in streams of water.


    "I can do it!" an ugly giant bellowed, his rough voice carrying across the battlefield. With both hands gripping the iron bars, he strained, lifting the gate a foot off the ground.


    Whoosh!


    A volley of arrows rained down, finding their mark in the neck of hispanion. The second giant let out a low groan before copsing with a thunderous crash, his massive body falling into the mes. The stench of charred flesh mixed with the already heavy air, adding to the grisly scene, not far from the burnt corpse of a mammoth.


    "Ah, you''re dead!" the ugly giant cried in anguish, his strength faltering.


    ng!


    The iron gate crashed back down, sending a cloud of snow into the air. The barrier had held, but only just.


    "Charge!" a voice roared from the wildling ranks.


    The fallen giant''s body extinguished much of the fire, and the horde surged forward, trampling over the corpse. The ground trembled under their weight as they advanced.


    Rumble.


    Suddenly, the Wall itself seemed toe alive. The ice groaned, and the firelight cast a chilling, eerie glow upon its frozen surface.


    Swish!


    A massive scythe, suspended by an iron chain, dropped from the heights of the Wall like a bolt of lightning. It swept across the battlefield with terrifying speed, cutting through the wildlings in its path. Bodies were cleaved in two, and blood sttered across the snow in a gruesome disy.


    The carnage was instant, devastating the barbarian ranks and sending a wave of terror through their hearts.


    Whoooosh��


    A long, mournful horn sounded from the rear of the wildling army. It was the call for retreat.

 Chapter 665: Dragons vs. Giants

    Chapter 665: Dragons vs. Giants


    Barronds


    Tens of thousands of troops marched like a tidal wave, heading straight for Winterfell in the North.


    "Roar..."


    A huge ck creature streaked across the sky, slowing down as it hovered above the Kingsroad. The sound of hooves stamping the ground was deafening. Facing the coalition army head-on, a cavalry unit galloped toward them.


    "Whoa..."


    The strong, white-haired old man tugged on the reins, a massive two-handed sword strapped to his back. All the soldiers wore the thickest leather coats, with two or even three horses each, carrying weapons, food, and armor.


    Boom.


    The Cannibalnded with a long, echoing howl. Thousands of warhorses flinched and neighed, rearing back in fear. The knights tightened their reins, struggling to keep their horses from copsing under the dragon��s presence.


    Rhaegar sat upright in his saddle and recognized the leader of the army before him. "Lord Roderick Dustin, are you also heading north to the Wall?"The strong old man was indeed Lord Roderick, who had recently visited King''s Landing. He was a powerful warrior and strategist, known to the people of the North as ��Roddy the Ruin.��


    Clop, clop, clop.


    Roderick, carrying the banner with the head of a direwolf, bellowed in his rough voice, "Thank the Old Gods, Your Grace, for leading an army to the aid of the Wall. The North will never forget!"


    As he shouted, his weathered face broke into a broad smile. His army, the Winter Wolvesprised of the North''s first ''warriors''��was about to march to the Wall. They would resist the cold with their own flesh and blood, sacrificing their lives to give their families an extra mouthful of hot food. With the dragon-riding King of the Seven Kingdoms leading them, they might even eat well before they die.


    As Rhaegar looked at theughing old lord, he felt a deep sense of awe. "Return to your unit. All provisions will be taken from the coalition army."


    The Winter Wolves were all older men from the North, many with graying beards like Roderick. But their expressions were solemn, and they were unafraid of the snowstorm or the dragon. They were truly elite.


    "Thank you, Your Grace," Roderick said, dismounting. He strode up to the ck dragon, bowing on one knee. Though easygoing, the old man valued tradition and kindness. The South��s support for the North was an indelible bond.


    Rhaegar slid off the dragon''s back, and Roderick watched him with shining eyes, fully aware of the dragon��s terrifying power.


    "How many men are in your army?" Rhaegar asked.


    "Over 2,000 in total, along with tens of thousands of cattle, sheep, and horses," Roderick replied matter-of-factly. "This year''s harvest was destroyed, and every household can only rely on food stored from previous years to survive the winter. We had to bring any extra men and livestock."


    Not only did those staying behind need food, but so did the men marching north. Livestock was the best source of sustenance.


    "The army will first settle in Winterfell, then the cavalry will march to the Wall ahead of the others," Rhaegar dered. He gazed out over the barren, snow-coverednd. "The Rivends will send food supplies without fail. There��s no need to worry about hunger or cold."


    The Others were the true enemy, and only with their defeat could victorye. To that end, the entire realm must support the North. With Rhaegar I of House Targaryen��s reputation, the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms would obey.


    "Thank you, Your Gracious Grace," Roderick replied, his voice carrying across the deste wilderness. He was no tterer, but his gratitude rang clear and true.


    ...


    Days of Marching


    Winterfell, Godswood.


    Drizzling...


    Warm spring water gurgled softly, sending faint ripples across its surface as the ck dragon''s tail skimmed the water. The Cannibal crouched nearby, half its massive body immersed in the hot spring. Its green, vertical pupils were half-closed as it dozed peacefully.


    In the vast forest surrounding Winterfell, the snow nketed the ground more than three feet deep. A cold wind blew from time to time, swirling snowkes and dropping them onto the dragon��s thick scales.


    ��No! You can��t do this to the Heart Tree!�� A shrill shout suddenly pierced the air, followed by the sound of stomping in frustration.


    Rumble...


    A towering tree crashed to the ground with a deafening noise, sending snow flying in all directions. Soon, more trees followed, falling one by one.


    The Winter Wolves, d in thick furs and wielding axes, worked tirelessly to fell the trees of the Godswood and the surrounding Wolfswood. Watching in dismay, the Child of the Forest gnashed her teeth in protest. "You must respect the Heart Tree! You can��t cut down the forest!" it cried.


    The trees had long served as a protective barrier for the Children of the Forest, and eight thousand years ago, the ancestors of the present men had cut down most of the forests and Heart Trees when they firstnded on the continent of Westeros.


    "They''re not cutting down Heart Trees, just ordinary wood," Rhaegar said calmly, cing a hand on the chestnut-brown head of Billbo. "Winterfell needs firewood, and Wolfswood is part of the North. Sacrifices must be made."


    ��No, if you cut down the forest, nature will take its revenge,�� the Child of the Forest warned, herrge green eyes ring. She climbed around the trees like a nimble monkey, asionally darting behind Rhaegar and grabbing at his clothes, trying to scramble up him.


    Rhaegar shook her off and paid her no mind. ��The weirwood will remain. If you''re afraid of losing your home, you can always move to Kingswood or Rainwood.��


    After spending some time with them, Rhaegar hade to find the Children of the Forest surprisingly fun. Simple-minded, small, andrgely unthreatening, they were also clever and adept at magic. No wonder they had been unable topete with the First Men and were driven north of the Neck.


    ...


    Leaving the Godswood, Rhaegar made his way through the muddy water left by the melting snow, heading back to the castle. As soon as he pushed open the door, he saw Rhaenyra directing her servants, who were hard at work repairing the castle and walls, settling the troops, and carrying provisions to the storage cers.


    Rhaenyra was dressed in a long, heavy ck gown, her regal presencemanding. Her aloof demeanor radiated the majesty of a queen, and she had naturally taken up the role of Winterfell''s hostess. With Lord Cregan''s wife having died young, the great fortress was still run by the aging Maester.


    ��Rhaegar, you��re back,�� Rhaenyra called as she briefly nced up from her work. She quickly pulled a piece of paper from her sleeve. ��Where are Ba and the others?��


    Rhaegar looked around but saw only the bustling servants. ��They��re tidying the crypts. It��s warmer down there, better for the dragons,�� she exined, her eyes full of concern as she stepped closer, standing on tiptoe to adjust his cor. Moondancer and Morning, the young dragons, were too small to withstand the cold of the North. Thankfully, the crypts wererge enough to shelter them.


    Rhaegar leaned down slightly, letting his chin rest on Rhaenyra��s soft shoulder, savoring the warmth of her presence. He slipped his hands under her arms, took the letter, and began to read it.


    ��This is from the Wall. Is something wrong?�� Rhaenyra asked, craning her neck to peek at the letter.


    Rhaegar��s face darkened as he skimmed the words. Gently, he cupped her narrow waist with one hand, holding the letter with the other. ��It��s not good news,�� he said gravely. "The wildlings attack the Wall every few days, and the Night��s Watch is exhausted from defending it day and night."


    ��I suppose I have to go,�� Rhaegar murmured, though his voice carried a weight to it. The long-standing conflict between the North and the wildlings seemed unresolvable, and the Wall had be a great divide between them.


    ��Leave Winterfell to me. Send word if you need anything,�� Rhaenyra whispered softly, offering her final instructions.


    Rhaegar nodded, though his mind was already racing with ideas on how to resolve the issue with the wildlings. The appearance of the Others posed a threat to all living people, both inside and outside the Wall.


    The wildlings attacked out of desperation, seeking survival. If possible, Rhaegar knew it would be best to allow tens of thousands��perhaps hundreds of thousands��of wildlings to migrate south of the Wall. Otherwise, those left outside would inevitably join the ranks of the army of the dead.


    ...


    King��s Landing


    The Red Keep, Council Chamber.


    Daemon sat at the head of the table, his patience thinning as the discussion dragged on.


    ��Lord Jason Lannister has yet to send his troops,�� one councilor began, frustration clear in his voice. ��Even the Lord of Golden Tooth has already dispatched his cavalry north.��


    ��Lord Jason is bedridden,�� another chimed in, ��but we have no idea how serious his condition is.��


    ��He''s defying the Iron Throne!�� Lord Lyman growled, his face dark with anger. ��Ignoring orders in the kingdom��s time of crisis!��


    The king��s authority was sacred and invible, and yet, here was a Lord openly disobeying the crown.


    ''How can the Lord of Casterly Rock lead the way in disregarding royal orders?'' Lyman seethed.


    ��Forgive me for speaking inly,�� a new voice interjected, ��but as far as I know, Lord Lyman��s house hasn��t sent anyone north either.��


    All eyes turned to Lord Desmond of White Harbor, the Northern representative seated at the Small Council. Lyman��s face flushed red with fury, momentarily lost for words.


    ��That��s not true!�� Lyman stammered. ��Ser n Beesbury answered the call and is defending against foreign forces.��


    Otto Hightower, seated to the side, quietly diffused Lyman��s embarrassment. ��Indeed,�� he added, ��Ser n has responded in your name, Lord Lyman.�� Otto��s presence in the council room was a recent development; though he had been away in Norvos, the royal court had been short-staffed, and his return was timely. Though not universally liked, he was capable of resolving administrative issues efficiently.


    Desmond narrowed his eyes at Otto��s interference. ��The merchants of Qarth had an agreement with His Grace,�� Desmond said pointedly, ��and White Harbor has not driven them away.��


    ��That��s because White Harbor is frozen for half the year,�� Otto retorted coolly. ��And there isn��t a single Manderly bank to speak of.�� His tone carried a clear edge. Both men were old foxes, masters at hiding their true motives. Desmond, unable to reply, looked away, embarrassed.


    Sensing the moment to press his advantage, Lyman spoke again. ��Lord Jason has openly disobeyed the king��s orders. He must be punished.��


    ��And what punishment do you suggest?�� Desmond asked, intrigued. He hoped for something that would align with his own interests.


    ��Whatever His Grace deems appropriate,�� Lyman replied smoothly, pulling a letter from his sleeve.


    Grand Maester Orwyle stood up, took the letter, and passed it to Daemon. ��The king��s intent,�� Orwyle whispered as he handed it over, ��is that Lord Jason��s dy in sending troops must be addressed. A dragon should be sent to ��examine�� the situation. Only then can the royal family��s authority be restored.��


    Otto nodded, clearly in agreement. His displeasure with House Lannister was evident.


    Daemon read the letter slowly, his gaze sweeping across the room, taking in the faces of the council members. He paused for a moment, then, without warning��


    Bang!


    He mmed the table, the noise echoing through the chamber. ��Very well,�� he said, his tone cold. ��Let��s see just how ��sick�� Lord Jason really is.��


    ��Roar...�� A shrill, eerie screech pierced the air,ing from outside the window.


    ...


    In the back garden of the Red Keep, the ground was dusted with thinyers of snow. October''s delicate flowers were wilting under the cold. From the snow rose a scarlet dragon, its body as slender as a serpent. Snowkes scattered as it shook itself, its sharp, devilish head tilting upward. Its long, piercing cry reverberated through the keep. The dragon, restless and eager, awaited its nextmand.


    ...


    The Wall


    <em>Dum dum dum!</em>


    The dull, powerful beat of war drums echoed through the frigid air, causing the snow-covered ground to tremble.


    "Charge!"


    Tens of thousands of wildlings surged from the Haunted Forest, their roars filling the icy expanse as theyunched wave after wave of relentless assaults.


    Before they could even reach the Wall, a rain of arrows descended upon them, striking with lethal precision. Blood sttered in bursts across the snow, and the bodies of wildlings fell like discarded rags, littering the ground. But more came. They trampled over their fallenpanions, driven by desperation, pushing ever closer to the Wall.


    "Release the arrows! Pour the fire oil down as well!"


    Old Benjicot''s voice boomed from atop the Wall, his sword drawn as hemanded the Night''s Watch to fight back against the onught.


    "This won��t hold!" Cregan yanked Benjicot over, his eyes filled with worry. "Sooner orter, we��ll run out of arrows and fire oil."


    "What else can we do, my lord?" Benjicot shook off the younger man��s grip, his face stern. "The Night''s Watch swore an oath to guard until the very end." Even if it means starving. Even if it means running out of ammunition.


    A sudden roar from below shook the ground. Cregan��s heart sank as he raced to the watchtower for a better view. His eyes widened at the sight below.


    The wildling horde had parted in a wide, orderly fashion, creating a path. From within their ranks, a towering mammoth lumbered forward, dragging a massive tree trunk behind it. Its snorts filled the air as it charged, swinging its long trunk like a battering ram.


    Behind the mammoth came a terrifying sight��giants. A dozen of them, towering seven or eight meters tall, their bodies d in animal skins and thick furs. They stormed toward the Wall in a tight formation, shoulder to shoulder, an unstoppable force of sheer muscle and rage.


    At the head of the pack was an ugly giant, brandishing a monstrous, modified mace. With a deafening crash, it smashed the weapon into the underground passage gate of the Wall, shaking the ancient stone fortress to its core.


    "Quickly! Pour the oil!"


    The Night''s Watchmen scrambled in terror, hoisting oil drums toward the parapets. One man, in his panic, lost his grip, and the barrel slipped from the wall before it could be opened.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The barrel exploded violently upon hitting the ground, but the st did little to halt the advancing giants. Led by the monstrous giant, four or five of the towering creatures huddled at the base of the Wall. Together, their immense strength focused on the iron gate, which groaned under the weight of theirbined efforts.


    The gate began to lift. Slowly, with a rumble that seemed to shake the entire Wall, it rose, revealing the thick wooden door behind it.


    "I��ll handle this!"


    One of the giants moved clumsily but with frightening strength, hoisting the trunk the mammoth had dragged. With a loud <em>crash,</em> the trunk was wedged beneath the gate, raising it a full foot off the ground. The wooden door shuddered as the wildlings, driven by savage fury, prepared to breach the final barrier that stood between them and the realm beyond.


    ��Haha, the giants are unstoppable!��


    ��Damn the crows!��


    The wildling horde charged through the mes ignited by the fire oil, pushing deeper into the tunnel. With the iron fence destroyed, the solid wooden door stood no stronger than paper before the savage assault. Wild men hacked at it recklessly, and in no time, a groove was chiseled out of the thick wood.


    The Night��s Watchmen atop the Wall looked on in horror, their hands and feet growing cold as they watched the door give way.


    "Ten men, with me!" Cregan shouted, stepping forward and drawing his house sword, <em>Ice</em>. His voice was cold, determined. "We��ll block the door to the underground passage!"


    Ten brave Night��s Watchmen broke away from therger group, grim resolve etched into their faces. With death in their eyes, they followed Cregan toward the winchdder.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The muffled sounds below were the giants hammering against the remnants of the iron fence, attempting to tear it apart. Cregan held his breath, silently praying to the Heart Tree. There was no enemy too strong, no situation too desperate.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The iron fence groaned asrge chunks of stone crumbled from the wall. Cregan stepped onto the longdder of the winch, closing his eyes tightly in anticipation.


    Suddenly, a sound pierced the chaos��a deafening roar that shook the air, like thunder rumbling across thend.


    <em>Sigh...</em>


    Cregan''s heart leapt. His eyes snapped open.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    A dark shadow fell over the snowy battlefield, spreading across thend as it approached the Wall from the distance. Massive ck wings, as dark as coal, loomed like a curtain in the sky. As they pped, the wind howled, extinguishing the light of the sun.


    "Dracarys!" A cold,manding voice echoed from above.


    ��Roar...��


    The ck dragon sliced through the sky, its sharp hind legsnding on the battlements of the Wall. Lowering its head, it unleashed a torrent of greenish-ck dragonfire. The mes fell like ash, drifting gently but devouring everything they touched. Wildlings, caught in its deadly path, screamed in agony as the dragonfire clung to them, burning with the intensity of bone ash.


    Rhaegar, pale and grim, slid down the back of the ck dragon, drawing <em>ckfyre</em> from his waist.


    <em>Roar! Roar...</em>


    Momentster, the sky filled with the thunderous roars of two more dragons. The magnificent golden dragon and the grotesque mud-colored beast flew in pursuit of the ck dragon, their mouths agape as they spewed their own dragonfire. Yet no matter themands of their riders, the two dragons refused to cross beyond the Wall, circling overhead but never passing the ancient barrier.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The Cannibal clung to the edge of the Wall with its massive forelimbs, its talons digging into the stone. It stretched its long neck, spilling as much of its dark green dragonfire as it could across the battlefield below. Its glowing, green vertical pupils were narrowed in concentration as thick, scorching smoke billowed from its body. It was as if some great threat lurked beyond the Wall, drawing the dragon''s relentless gaze.


    ...


    Meanwhile, at the entrance to Castle ck��s underground passageways, Rhaegar advanced steadily, <em>ckfyre</em> in hand. His eyes were cold, focused, as he moved toward the exit between the multiple gates. The true power of the dragonborn manifested��wisps of ck me swirled around his body like shadows.


    His forehead and heart were marked with dark, scaly patches, and his left arm had transformed��covered in ck scales, it had tripled in strength. With every step, the air around him crackled with raw power, as if the dragon within him had fully awakened.

 Chapter 666: The Giant and the Advisors of the Children of the Forest

    Chapter 666: The Giant and the Advisors of the Children of the Forest


    Boom!


    The solid wooden door exploded into splinters as a grotesque head the size of a dustpan smashed through.


    "Oh, I broke the door!" the ugly giant eximed, grinning with delight. He pulled his head back, reached through the door with his massive arms, and yanked out the heavy bolt that had secured it.


    Suddenly, a hundred-pound sack of steelskin mmed against the walls as the door flew open. The ugly giant took the lead, and behind him, three towering, ferocious giants barreled into the underground passage.


    ��They��reing,�� Rhaegar muttered nonchntly, twirling his sword as if the advancing giants were of little consequence.


    ��If you dare to block my way, I''ll nail you to the ground,�� the ugly giant snarled, his eyes locking onto Rhaegar��s calm, purple gaze. He furiously swung his enormous mace forward, interpreting Rhaegar''s defiance as a challenge.


    Rhaegar grinned, a cold, dangerous smile curling at his lips. <em>Provoke away,</em> he thought. He had faced worse before. Giants, after all, weren��t much different from the Children of the Forest with their magic��just bigger, dumber, and louder.


    ��Smash your head!�� the ugly giant bellowed, lumbering forward awkwardly. With one massive hand, he raised his mace high and brought it crashing down.


    <em>Pop!</em>Rhaegar anticipated the move, rolling to the side and slipping under the giant��s legs. The massive swing missed him by inches. Before the giant could recover, Rhaegar thrust his sword into the giant��s calf, piercing through the leather-wrapped boots.


    <em>ng!</em>


    ckfyre''s dark de sank into flesh but stopped at the hard bone. The ugly giant roared in pain, lifting his leg and kicking Rhaegar, who was barely knee-high to the giant, out of the way. As the giant reached with his free hand to grab him, Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed, calcting his next move.


    In one swift motion, Rhaegar yanked the sword free, dodging the giant��s calloused hand as it swiped toward him. He sidestepped and, with a sharp swing, sliced through two of the giant��s thick fingers. They hit the ground with a sickening <em>crack,</em> twitching as blood spattered the snow.


    Rhaegar didn��t stop. He hurled ckfyre at the giant��s towering legs, then leapt up, climbing the rough leather trousers like a cat scaling a tree. Fighting a giant on the ground was too risky��best to take the high ground.


    ��I��ll help you!�� one of the other giants roared, charging in with his mace raised.


    ��Get out of my way! I don��t need your help!�� the ugly giant bellowed, wincing in pain as he backed up. His massive body mmed against the stone wall, trying to crush Rhaegar against it.


    But Rhaegar was faster. In a few agile bounds, he regained his sword and climbed onto the giant��s shoulders. ��I��ll cut your ear off,�� he said with a grin. True to his word, he swung ckfyre, severing the giant��s ear in one swift strike.


    Blood gushed from the wound, and the giant howled in agony, clutching his head in shock. Rhaegar, ever nimble, dodged the iling arms as the giant stumbled around. As the giant screeched and waved his arms, Rhaegar clung to the matted, filthy hair, using it like a rope as he swung himself higher.


    His purple eyes sparkled with focus, long silver and gold hair dancing in the wind as he vaulted onto the top of the giant��s head. He crouched there, poised for the final blow.


    ��Say goodbye to the world, ugly thing,�� Rhaegar murmured, lips curling into a faint smile. He raised his sword, aiming for the crown of the giant��s head��the most vulnerable spot on the human body.


    ��Let him go!��


    ��No!��


    The two giants charged recklessly, desperation in their eyes as they tried to save theirpanion. Rhaegar stood his ground, unwavering, his gaze fixed ahead. With a swift motion, he brought ckfyre down.


    <em>ng!</em>


    The de tore through the giant��s scalp, but when it struck the skull, it was like hitting solid granite. Blood trickled down in rivulets, but the sword hadn��t gone deep enough. Rhaegar��s expression tightened, and he gripped the hilt, stabbing downward again with force. The bone was <em>really</em> hard.


    Before he could strike again, the foul stench of the giant''s hand reached him, followed by a gust of foul wind as it swung toward him from behind. Without hesitation, Rhaegar leapt into the air, twisting his body in a half-turn. As he spun, his right hand, still gripping ckfyre, faintly glowed red. In his left, a ck me flickered to life��dark as night and thick as sludge.


    With a flick of his wrist, Rhaegar hurled ckfyre at the ugly giant��s face. The de flew true, embedding itself in the giant''s skull with a sickening thud.


    "Ahhh!"


    For the first time, the ugly giant screamed in agony, ckfyre lodged deep in his face. His entire body convulsed violently as he copsed to the ground, writhing in pain. The giant wed desperately at his face, rolling in the snow and mud, trying to extinguish the searing ck me that clung to him like death itself.


    Rhaegarnded gracefully, his feet barely making a sound as he took a few light steps backward, his movements fluid and precise��like a dancer in the midst of a roaring inferno. The sword, still aze with ck eerie mes, pointed straight ahead. With a delicate motion, he traced crescent shapes in the snow with its tip, all the while his expression remaining calm and focused.


    In that moment, he embodied an aura of absolute mastery, surpassing even his famed swordsmanship teacher, Syrio. It was clear that, even without dragons, Rhaegar could have crushed the Seven Kingdoms through his martial prowess alone.


    "I''ll kill you!"


    "Roar!"


    The remaining two giants, enraged by the sight of theirpanion''s suffering, charged at Rhaegar, their massive forms barely fitting in the narrow underground passage. Their fury filled the air, and the ground shook beneath their feet as they thundered toward him.


    Rhaegar didn''t flinch. He hadn��t even caught his breath, yet his resolve hardened. With a calm focus, he wrapped the dark mes around his de, the ck fire swirling and dancing along its edge.


    Now, it was time to get serious.


    Whoosh!


    A volley of arrows flew through the air, striking the two giants square in their chests and limbs. Their roars of pain echoed through the tunnel. One giant, hit directly in the chest, copsed to the ground with a thunderous crash.


    "It��s your turn to say goodbye," Rhaegar said lightly, his voice calm. He stepped onto the giant''s shoulders, using the height tounch himself into the air. As he leapt, he brought ckfyre down in a swift, brutal arc.


    <em>Pop!</em>


    A sh of dark light streaked through the air as ckfyre pierced the old, cracked skin of the giant��s neck. The de cut deep, severing the carotid artery in an instant. Blood erupted, spurting wildly as the giant let out a final, choking roar.


    As Rhaegarnded, more arrows rained down from above.


    "Protect His Grace! Hurry!" Cregan''s voice boomed, his face set with determination. He gripped his sword, <em>Ice</em>, tightly, his knuckles white from the strain.


    While Rhaegar used the distraction to sever the Achilles tendon of the second giant, who had been shot, a dozen Night''s Watch members rushed forward to swarm the beast.


    ��Roar, get out of my way!�� the injured giant bellowed in rage. It grabbed one of the Night''s Watch members in a massive fist and crushed him instantly, reducing him to pulp. With a furious swing, it knocked three more men into the frost-covered walls, their bodies mming into stone. Blood sprayed from their mouths as their organs shattered on impact.


    "Atone for your sins!" Cregan shouted, his face resolute. With a swift, brutal stroke, he brought <em>Ice </em>down on the giant��s exposed neck. The de acted like a guillotine, slicing through half of the giant��s throat before bing lodged in the bones of the cervical vertebrae.


    A horrible wail erupted from the giant as blood poured from the wound.


    Suddenly, with a loud <em>ng</em>, the iron fence fell, slicing a giant in half as it tried to crawl through.


    <em>Ssshhh...</em>


    The wildlings behind the giants scrambled to the ground, desperate to force their way through the narrow opening. Their burning eyes fixated on the underground passage, the only path forward.


    ��Move!�� one of the giants growled, swatting aside a few wildlings as they tried to squeeze through. The opening was too small��only two giants could crawl through at a time, causing chaos as the wildlings were blocked outside.


    With a thunderous crash, the solid wooden door reinforced with Steelskin was torn apart. The giants who had broken through grabbed the door panels and used them as makeshift shields.


    Rhaegar''s expression darkened. Seeing the giants advance, he reached for something hanging around his neck��a small, pumpkin-shaped bomb.


    The Children of the Forest''s toys. <em>Useful</em>, he thought. Unfortunately, they didn��t share how to make more of them��or provide any additional help. Still, two of these were enough to turn the tide of battle.


    "Wait... wait..." Rhaegar murmured, watching as seven or eight giants forced their way into the passage. He was just about to throw the bomb when a shrill cry came from behind.


    A small, green figure darted across the snow, nimble and fast, moving like arge squirrel.


    ...


    Beyond the Great Wall


    <em>Roar!</em>


    A barbarian, his face hidden behind a ferocious mask, blew his war horn, signaling the wildling army tounch a frenzied assault. The Night��s Watch on the city walls struggled to hold their positions, barely able to withstand the giants breaking through the gates.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    The Cannibal, its eerie green eyes filled with cold malice, spewed streams of green dragonfire across the battlefield. Half the ground was scorched in a sickly green ze, wildlings howling as they burned. In their panic, the ming barbarians fled, spreading the fire to others as they desperately tried to escape.


    The dragon, ck as coal, trampled the city walls, its massive wings pping as it roared again and again. It was like a beast from the darkest nightmares, a creature of destructionying waste to the battlefield.


    With a thunderous rumble, the intense heat of the dragonfire melted the frost clinging to the Great Wall. Massive chunks of ice broke free, crashing down in an explosion of snow and debris.


    Through the snow and fog, a giant crept forward, leading wildlings into the underground passages at the base of the Wall. Even the dragon''s terrifying presence wasn��t enough to stop the relentless offensive.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    The Cannibal hesitated, shaking its head as if sensing its rider��s thoughts. Its unsettling green eyes flickered with uncertainty, watching the chaos below. From its vantage point, the wildlings looked like a swarming mass of ants, undeterred by fire or death. The dragon nced upward, scanning the skies.


    Above, two other dragons��the magnificent golden one and the ugly mud-colored beast��hovered, circling high in the air. They roared and spat mes, but their fire couldn''t reach the wildlings, as if they were tethered by some instinct, unable to cross the Wall.


    ��Fight back! Stop the barbarians from breaking in!�� Old Benjicot shouted, his voice booming as he sprinted along the battlements, sword in hand, rallying the Night''s Watch to hold the line.


    The Cannibal''s gaze shifted to him for a brief moment, its scarlet tongue licking its fearsome, fanged maw.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    With a sudden, ferocious howl, the ck dragonunched itself into the sky. Its massive wings pped with violent force as it leapt from the battlements and soared over the heads of the wildling horde below. Its powerful hind legs mmed into the frozen earth just outside the Wall, shaking the ground beneath it.


    The Cannibal��s enormous wings settled against the ground as it twisted its neck, scanning the battlefield with a menacing re. Its dark, menacing presence loomed over the frozen wilderness.


    "Roar!"


    The Cannibal��s green pupils boiled with ferocity as it unleashed a torrent of dragonfire toward the city gate, engulfing the wildlings who dared to breach it. Their screams were drowned in the roaring mes, and the dragon��s massive body shuddered involuntarily, filled with unease and anger. Its immense ck wings, like the des of a scythe, cut through the air, while its tail, heavy as a battering ram, swept across the battlefield, smashing everything in its path.


    "Dragon!"


    The wildlings cried out in terror, witnessing the ferocious beast that had crossed the Wall for the first time.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    The sound, as deep and thunderous as a distant storm, echoed for miles, shaking the forest and scattering the snow. The Cannibal, nearly 200 meters long, moved through the battlefield like a living engine of destruction, leaving a trail of hellish carnage behind it��fire, death, and ruin.


    ...


    Inside the Underground Passage


    "Don��t kill them��spare them!" the Child of the Forest pleaded, her tiny hands clutching at Rhaegar��s dragon-patterned sleeve. Rhaegar��s face remained expressionless, his cold gaze fixed straight ahead.


    The door to the underground passage had copsed, and dark green dragonfire clung to the rubble, burning fiercely. One unlucky giant, trapped beneath the crushed stones, screamed in agony as the fire crept over his body, burning him alive. The other giants crowded around, desperately trying to dig through the debris to rescue him.


    Outside, the wildlings and giants wailed in unison, their cries a twisted symphony of pain. The Cannibal��s dragonfire was strong enough to melt iron and stone, and it inflicted the most excruciating torture on those caught in its mes. Nothing that came near the fire at the city gates survived for long.


    "Your Grace, should we kill them?" Cregan asked, panting heavily, his hands trembling as he gripped the hilt of his greatsword, <em>Ice</em>. Giants were every Northern man��s worst nightmare, and facing seven or eight of them, even with a dozen men, seemed like a hopeless fight.


    Rhaegar turned his head, half of his face obscured by ck scales. His cold, purple eyes gleamed with a sinister light. This was not hesitation��it was the pride that ran through his Targaryen blood.


    ��The giants will be useful against the Others,�� whispered the Child of the Forest, hoping to protect their ancient allies.


    "Your Grace?" Cregan��s eyes widened as he noticed the strange squirrel-like figure standing beside Rhaegar, its green eyes glowing with urgency.


    Rhaegar��s gaze flickered, and he made his decision. Without a word, he strode toward the ugly giant slumped against the wall, gasping for breath. Slowly, he raised ckfyre, the sword of House Targaryen.


    ��What are you doing?�� the giant rasped, his voice filled with pain. Half his face was burned beyond recognition, twisted in agony.


    ��Bring your face closer,�� Rhaegarmanded softly, his tone calm but guarded, as he pointed the tip of his sword at the giant��s disfigured face.


    The giant froze, his eyes darting toward his fellow wildlings, who had all but abandoned him. Then, noticing the Child of the Forest standing by the side of this terrifying human, he hesitated.


    "Child of the Forest, are you with the humans now?" His gruff voice wasced with anger, and a trace of betrayal.


    ��Bring your face closer, friend,�� the Child of the Forest said gently, bowing slightly as they extended a hand in a gesture of peace.


    After a moment��s hesitation, the giant lowered his head, lying down in submission, his grotesque, still-burning face exposed.


    "Tell your people that both the giants and the Children of the Forest will serve the Dragonlord as advisers," Rhaegar said, his voice soft butmanding as he pressed ckfyre��s de against the giant��s scarred face. An inexplicable ripple of power surged through the de, and the ck mes that had scorched the giant��s flesh flowed along the spine of the sword, infusing the Valyrian steel with their searing heat.

 Chapter 667: Waking the Bronze Fury

    Chapter 667: Waking the Bronze Fury


    <strong>Hum��</strong>


    The de of ckfyre shimmered, sending out subtle ripples across its surface, as if water flowed along its path. The once silver-gray sword, now darkened by the mes of Balerion��s dragonfire, seemed even more profound��its depth entuated by the ck fire that coursed through it.


    Rhaegar let out a soft exmation, noticing the subtle transformation in the sword��s appearance.


    "I��m fine," the ugly giant muttered, gingerly touching the burns on his face. "It doesn��t hurt anymore."


    "Giant, call your people," the Child of the Forest urged cautiously, stepping closer. Herrge green eyes were fixed on the giants still digging at the rubble. Seven of them remained, making eight in total, including the one before them. Far fewer than the ancient tribes of giants, but still a formidable force.


    "Call them?" The ugly giant hesitated, his gaze shifting to the silver-haired human in front of him. Fear mingled with the anger in his heart. The humans had killed two of hispanions.


    "Hm?" Rhaegar''s eyes narrowed, and ckfyre��s mes red to life again.


    Before the giant could react, a thunderous roar echoed through the air.


    <em>Roar!</em>A shadow fell over the entrance to the underground passage as the giant crumpled to the ground, startled. The overpowering stench of dragon, mixed with the earthy smell of sheep, filled the air. The rough, brown scales of another beast��Sheepstealer��blocked the entrance.


    "Be quiet, Sheepstealer."


    A cold voice broke through the tension, and the air seemed to heat up instantly. The mud-colored dragon, with its twisted, misshapen form, slithered forward. Its dry, putrid head tilted to the side, and its sunken eye sockets red with malevolence. The dragon let out a low, menacing grunt, nostrils ring with each breath.


    Rhaegar nced back at the creature, a slight smirk ying at the corner of his mouth, then turned his attention back to the giant. He tilted ckfyre toward him. The meaning was unmistakable: <em>Life or dragonfire?</em>


    The ugly giant stiffened, his eyes darting between the fearsome Sheepstealer and the human warrior. His thick lips trembled. No matter how tall or powerful a giant might be, he knew he was no match for even a young dragon. His mouth, capable of chewing through wood, was nothingpared to the fire-breathing jaws of the beast before him.


    "A giant is no adviser," the ugly giant said, summoning thest bit of courage he had left. He tried to defend his dignity, but his voice wavered.


    Rhaegar��s eyes darkened, and he raised his left hand high. Sheepstealer��s pupils constricted, and the dragon��s snorting stopped as its jaws parted wide, revealing rows of sharp, saliva-drenched teeth.


    The ugly giant shuddered, giving in. He crawled from the ground and began searching for his people. When he called, the other giants emerged, pping the ground in frustration but quickly retreating behind the Child of the Forest for safety. Giants did not submit easily, but they listened to their allies. Brave, yes��but not foolish.


    Seeing their behavior, Rhaegar silentlyughed and sheathed ckfyre. He valued these massive creatures. They were wild, dangerous, but knew when to bend in the face of overwhelming power��a useful trait, especially for a group of savage giants.


    Not long after...


    Castle ck was thrown into an uproar as eight giants, dragging one of their own with a broken leg, emerged from the underground passageway. The Night��s Watch scrambled, drawing their weapons, ready to fight to the death against these towering beasts.


    But the tense, desperate atmosphere vanished the moment the young king, Rhaegar, and Lord Cregan stepped out after them.


    <strong>"Roar..."</strong>


    The ck dragon circled outside the Wall, spewing dark green dragonfire that incinerated wildling after wildling. Rhaegar nced back, his expression one of shock. Dragons had never crossed the Wall��that was an obscure, but well-known, piece of history.


    His great-grandfather, King Jaehaerys I, had visited the Wall with Queen Alysanne.


    Alysanne��s dragon, Silverwing, had famously refused to fly beyond it, no matter how hard its rider tried. Yet, there was no record of Vermithor, Jaehaerys''s other dragon, ever hesitating. ording to stories told by his father, Viserys, Old King Renly had aided the Night��s Watch in defending against a wildling invasion. Vermithor likely crossed the Wall then, though the records were unclear.


    When Rhaegar had arrived at the Wall with the Cannibal, he had felt it��the great dragon beneath him, resistant, almost fearful of whaty on the other side. The Cannibal had refused to cross, something deep within it sensing an ancient danger.


    Rhaegar hadn��t pressed the issue, not with the current crisis at hand. Instead, the Cannibal had ravaged the wildlings outside the Wall, leaving Rhaegar to hold the underground passage and prevent an invasion.


    ��The Cannibal crossed the Wall on its own,�� Rhaegar murmured, his heart swelling with something like pride.


    Suddenly, a shout rang out from behind Castle ck. <em>��Giddyup!��</em> The sound of hooves followed, crashing like drumbeats against the frozen ground.


    Roderick Dustin led the charge, the Winter Wolves��two thousand strong��charging toward the Wall in the dead of night. Behind them flew the banners of Riverrun��s trout, the Twins�� Long Bridge, and the golden apple tree of House Rowan. A dozen banners fluttered high, each representing a cavalry unit ready to fight.


    ��The time for counterattack hase!�� Roderick��s voice boomed, and he waved his banner as he galloped at the front of the charge.


    Rhaegar��s mind raced. He needed to act quickly. He shouted up to Aemond, who rode a dragon overhead, ��Stop the army! I��ll open the gate!��


    Without wasting a second, Rhaegar dashed up the winding staircase toward the Wall��s winch. The Night��s Watchmen, seasoned and swift, worked the winch to hoist the king to the top of the Wall.


    ��Out of the way��Nuno will handle this!��


    The ugly giant pushed aside the Night��s Watchmen as if they were children, grabbing the winch with one hand and spinning it like a toy. Soon, the gates began to creak open.


    From atop the Wall, Rhaegar surveyed the battlefield beyond. Eerie green dragonfire scorched the wilderness, and the anguished wails of the dead echoed through the air. The ck dragon��Cannibal��was a force of pure destruction, turning the battlefield into an inferno of death and despair.


    Sensing Rhaegar��s gaze, the ck dragon paused in its frenzy, its glowing green eyes scanning the city below with a flicker of recognition. The ughter slowed as the beast regained some control over its bloodlust.


    Ignoring Old Benjicot��s attempts to stop him, Rhaegar leapt from the watchtower without hesitation, plunging into the chaos below.


    <strong>"Roar..."</strong>


    The Great Wall stood 800 feet high, and as Rhaegar plummeted toward the ground, hended squarely on the ck dragon''s outstretched wing.


    "Open the gates, Cannibal!" Rhaegarmanded, pulling on the reins as he climbed back into the saddle. The cold of winter and the presence of the Wall were straining the dragon��s sanity, making it restless. As cunning as the Cannibal was, it still required the steady hand of its rider to remain focused.


    With a powerful beat of its wings, Cannibal folded them inward, its massive hind legs mming into the ground below.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    The dragon��s roar reverberated like thunder across the frozen battlefield. Its thick, powerful tail swung through piles of rubble, churning the snow and breaking through the melted frost. A ray of light pierced the underground tunnel as the debris was cleared.


    "Charge!"


    Roderick��s battle cry rang out, and he surged forward at the head of the cavalry, riding his yellow-maned warhorse into the fray. In perfect formation, thousands of mounted troops poured through the now-open gates.


    The wildling army had numbered 100,000 strong, but the madness of the dragon had already decimated 30% of their forces. The survivors scattered in terror, fleeing for their lives. Thebined forces of the kingdoms gave chase,unching into yet another wave of merciless ughter.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The Cannibalnded heavily atop the Great Wall, its immense chest rising and falling as it let out a guttural growl. Thick trails of saliva dripped from its menacing maw as it surveyed the carnage below.


    Rhaegar, seated upon the dragon��s back, watched the battlefield in grim silence. His violet eyes scanned the chaos, assessing the devastation. Suddenly, both man and dragon looked up, their gazes drawn northward.


    Far beyond, deep in the Haunted Forest and the snow-covered Land of Always Winter, a strange stillness gripped the frozenndscape. A cold wind began to rise, creeping across the horizon with silent intent. It felt like a harbinger��a chilling breath from the farthest reaches of the North.


    ...


    <strong>Oldtown, High Tower</strong>


    The towering white spire of the Hightower rose like a sharpened sword, though its tip was iplete��ckened by the soot of countless fires. Inside, high up in the tower, a heated argument raged on, the voices of a man and a woman shing with the intensity of a storm.


    ��The merchants of Qarth are despicable scum! The King��s Tower is giving us the green light to kill them!�� Samantha Tarly��s voice rang out, her face flushed with emotion.


    ��No!�� Lyonel Hightower, her young husband, shot back, his tone wavering. ��The Thirteen are rich beyond measure��we cannot afford to offend them.��


    ��The enemy is at our doorstep, Lyonel!�� Samantha shouted, her frustration boiling over. Her eyes zed as she confronted the boy who, at only sixteen, was not yet a true Lord.


    Knock, knock!


    A hurried knock came at the door, followed by the urgent voice of an attendant. ��My lord, Lord n has shed with one of The Thirteen��they��re fighting!��


    Samantha��s face paled. ��Which Lord n?�� she demanded, her voice trembling.


    Lyman Beesbury had recently abdicated, leaving his grandson, n Beesbury, as the Lord of Honeyholt. But the squire��s reply hit closer to home.


    ��It��s your brother, Lord Tarly.��


    That was the final straw.


    ��Lyonel, send out the troops,�� Samantha urged, her impatience barely contained. Her voice shook with fury as she clenched her teeth. ��The merchants of Qarth are bullying us, and yet you still haven��t summoned your advisers?��


    Lyonel stood frozen, the weight of his young lordship pressing down on him. The thought of his brother-inw embroiled in a fight with the powerful Thirteen of Qarth left him paralyzed. His boyish face, unmarked by years of experience, was filled with uncertainty.


    But then, something shifted. The honor of House Hightower��Oldtown��s beacon of power and legacy��shed in his mind. A dark n began to form, one driven by desperation and the need to protect his house.


    Lyonel��s fists clenched, and his face reddened with a mixture of fear and fury. Momentster, a green me ignited at the top of the Hightower, a signal of Oldtown��s resolve.


    ...


    <strong>Harrenhal, Isle of Faces</strong>


    <em>Roar...</em>


    A moss-green dragon, ancient and massive, crouched by the shore, its wings pping softly in the breeze. Its enormous body was half-hidden in the dense undergrowth, and with a low, contented sigh, it closed its eyes, the rhythmic sound of its breathing blending with the rustle of the trees.


    Deep within the dragon''sir, ck Dragonstones were piled like mountains, casting shadows across the cold, cavernous space. The wind howled through caves of varying sizes, each echoing with the eerie whistle of air passing through ancient, jagged stones.


    <em>Trot, trot, trot...</em>


    Light footsteps echoed on the uneven ground, the flicker of a torch casting fleeting shadows along the walls. The me��s warm glow revealed the depths of the cave, illuminating an ancient ce of power.


    ��Breathe fire and master your wings...�� A soft, haunting chant filled the cavern, its melody both ancient and powerful. ��Stand with two heads and sing to the three.��


    The voice belonged to Baelon, his face emerging in the flickering torchlight as he continued the High Valyrian incantation.


    ��By my voice, the words of fire... blood magic, the sacrifice has been paid.��


    The chant, meant to awaken the dragon, grew more intense as Baelon��s expression tightened with concentration.


    Suddenly, the ground beneath him rumbled. As the song faded into silence, a colossal silhouette stirred in the depths of the cave. Baelon stepped forward cautiously, his eyes locked on the shifting shadow, knowing full well the fury that lurked within.


    And then it came.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    A mighty bronze head erupted from the ground, its massive jaws spewing forth a column of golden fire that lit up the entire cave. Its scales gleamed with a metallic sheen, reflecting the firelight in a dazzling disy of power. This was Vermithor, the Bronze Fury��his grandfather Viserys��s dragon.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    Vermithor��s cold, solemn pupils fixated on Baelon, its maw opening wider as it advanced, a clear threat. To awaken such a beast was to invite danger, for dragons did not take kindly to being disturbed from their slumber.


    ��Quiet, Vermithor!�� Baelonmanded, his voice sharp as he drew a dragon-taming whip from behind his waist.


    The dragon��s piercing eyes narrowed, focusing on the silver-haired boy and the dark whip in his hands. For a tense moment, the air hung heavy with the threat of violence, golden dragonfire rumbling in the depths of Vermithor��s throat.


    But then, slowly, the tension ebbed. Vermithor lowered its sharp-horned head slightly, its gaze flicking between Baelon and the whip. The fierce fire building in its chest receded, and the bronze dragon��s broad, brown wings settled across the stone tform.


    Without its rider, it had no desire to stir.


    The temperature in the cave dropped even further, the bitter cold creeping in from outside. Yet here, deep within the Dragonpit, surrounded by ancient stone and the faint heat of Vermithor��s dormant fire, the dragon found its rest once more.


    <strong>"Vermithor, I need your help."</strong>


    Baelon stood before the mighty bronze dragon, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His great-uncle Daemon had left King��s Landing with Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm, and now the Dragonpit was empty. The capital had never been so vulnerable, teetering on the edge of chaos. His grandfather''s health was failing, and with no dragon to defend the city, its enemies would soon descend upon it like vultures. Why not leave Baelon in charge with Vermithor by his side?


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Vermithor��s pupils shed darkly, the great beast understanding the boy��s request but unwilling toply so easily. Vermithor, the Bronze Fury, served only the truly strong��not those who merely craved power.


    ��Follow me, now!�� Baelon��s face darkened with frustration, and the crack of the dragon-taming whip echoed against the stone walls of the cave.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Vermithor��s rage was instantaneous. The enormous dragon lunged forward, its massive head knocking Baelon to the ground with brutal force. If it weren��t for the bond between them, the dragon might have devoured him in a single bite.


    ��You think I��m a coward, Vermithor!?�� Baelon shouted as he struggled to his feet, his eyes zing with defiance.


    A flicker of green fire glimmered in his purple eyes as he revealed his true form��a dragonborn. Three shimmering green scales appeared on his forehead, and his fangs grew longer and sharper.


    <em>Roar?</em>


    Vermithor hesitated for the first time, his wide nostrils ring in uncertainty.


    <em>Crack!</em>


    The whip snapped again, this time coiling around Vermithor��s thick neck like a ck serpent. The powerful Bronze Fury was brought under control, forced to yield to the tamer��s will.


    ��To serve the House, I need your power,�� Baelon said solemnly, his palm igniting with green me. The magic bound them in ways Vermithor could not resist.


    <em>Plop.</em>


    The great dragon stumbled, unable to withstand the restraint of the Dragon Taming Whip. Its massive head mmed onto the stone tform, shattering a chunk of Dragonstone with its jaw. Taking advantage of the moment, Baelon leapt onto Vermithor��s back, climbing up along its massive brown wing.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    In a furious response, golden dragonfire erupted from Vermithor��s mouth, lighting the cavern like a zing furnace. The heat was so intense, it felt as if the cave itself was melting, rumbling with the force of the dragon��s unleashed fury.


    Outside, Uragax��another dragon resting by the shore��looked up, confused by the sudden tremors and the roar echoing from within the towering cave.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    A colossal figure, covered in bronze scales and crowned with sharp horns like a thorny bush, exploded out of the cave. Vermithor soared into the sky, his brown wings beating with thunderous power as he climbed higher above Gods Eye Lake.


    ��Dracarys, Vermithor!�� Baelon��s voice rang out from the dragon��s back, clear andmanding.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Vermithor answered the call, unleashing a torrent of dragonfire skyward. The fire sted through the heavens, scattering the dark clouds with its aftershock.


    "Haha, let''s go back to King��s Landing!" Baelon shouted, hisughter filled with exhration as he rode the mighty Bronze Fury. He gripped the saddle and waved the dragon whip, ready to reim the capital.


    Vermithor��s fierce, vertical pupils nced back at Harrenhal onest time before the massive beast soared across the vast expanse of Gods Eye.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    Uragax, still by the shore, let out a long, echoing howl before taking flight. The dragon followed in pursuit, trailing after Baelon and Vermithor as they headed toward King��s Landing.

 Chapter 668: The Presence of the Others

    Chapter 668: The Presence of the Others


    The North, The Wall.


    The towering ice structure had reformed with frost, blocking the bitter cold wind from beyond the Wall.


    "Hurry, pile the bodies together."


    "Work quickly, finish before dark."


    For the first time in half a year, the ck-cloaked Night''s Watch set foot outside the Wall to clear the battlefield. The ghostly green Dragonfire had long since died down, and the ckened scorch marks were buried beneath the snow. Yet, the stench of burnt flesh still lingered in the air.


    The Haunted Forest swayed slightly, causing the snow on the treetops to fall.


    The tter of hooves echoed in the distance, growing louder.


    Roderick led the Army of the Winter Wolves out of the forest, their horses moving slowly. Each veteran soldier had a rope tied to their ponytail, dragging behind them a long line of captured wildlings. The wildlings had scattered in all directions after their defeat.


    "By order of the king, arrest all rebellious wildlings."Bound and defeated, the wildlings hung their heads, their faces as white as mourning clothes.


    ...


    Inside the Wall, heavy thuds echoed through the snow. Thud. Thud. The boots that made the noise were asrge as millstones. Giants, several of them, moved slowly, their chests and backs weighed down by baskets filled with dark, steaming slime. The pungent stench of sulfur filled the air without the need to look down.


    "Damn humans, you make Nuno carry the shit."


    The ugly giant stood at the base of the Wall, defiant, his face twisted in displeasure. Two ck-cloaked crows, armed with shovels, loaded a fresh, sticky lump of excrement into his basket.


    "This is dragon dung, you idiot," Rhaegar warned, his re menacing. "You destroyed the gate to the Wall, and now I''m cleaning up your mess."


    The underground passage had been wrecked by the giants'' recklessness. Repairing it with surface stone was impossible, so ck Dragonstone was the best solution.


    "I don''t want to carry it. It stinks," Nuno grumbled, his already ugly face twisting further in disgust.


    "You should be grateful the Cannibal can still defecate in the cold," Rhaegar replied lightly, taking a step back.


    The coal-ck dragony nearby, quietly observing. It opened its miserable green, vertical pupils and stared at the giant, who,pared to the dragon, was no more significant than an insect.


    Nuno stiffened and obediently prepared his basket. "Dragon dung is very good and very hot," he muttered.


    The Child of the Forest approached cautiously, circling the dark dung. "I can feel the ck Dragonstone you melted contains fire magic."


    "Will it keep away the White Walkers?" Rhaegar asked, his tone serious.


    "The answer requires proof," murmured the Child of the Forest, her green eyes shimmering faintly. "When Brandon the Builder raised the Great Wall, he used magic to imbue it with power to repel the Others."


    The ck Dragonstone and the Wall contained different kinds of magic, but their effect was the same. It was like lighting a cluster of fireworks to ignite a pile of dull candles��both dispelled the darkness, but one was far brighter.


    Rhaegar''s brow furrowed slightly, as though he understood only in part.


    "We''re back, Your Grace!"


    Roderick''s shout echoed through the air as the Winter Wolves poured out of the underground passage in perfect unison.


    Rhaegar nced sideways at the sound.


    "Behave yourselves and get in the snowdrift!" the old lord barked, hot-tempered as ever. He untied the horse''s tail and cracked the whip, driving a dozen wildlings into a corner. The rest of the Winter Wolves followed suit, treating the wildlings��ancient enemies for centuries��with roughness.


    Rhaegar''s frown deepened. Without a word, he turned and ascended the windingdder toward the winch.


    ...


    Atop the Wall, the Night''s Watch was busy repairing the battlements.


    "Your Grace," Cregan greeted him, bowing respectfully as he approached. The relief on his face was clear��dealing with the wildling army had been no small feat.


    "Where is the Lord Commander of the Night''s Watch?" Rhaegar asked, scanning the area for the figure in ck robes and white hair.


    "Lord Commander Benjicot is at the watchtower. Follow me."


    Cregan led the way, and soon they came face to face with the emaciated "old man."


    "What does Your Gracemand?" Benjicot asked, his grave expression matched by the stern wind that whipped at the fur around his cor.


    "I need to speak with you about the wildlings," Rhaegar said, looking at the Lord Commander with mixed feelings. Once the Lord of Raventree Hall, Benjicot had been banished to the Wall��yet here he stood, risen to a position of power once again. Little did Rhaegar know,petence always finds its way to the surface.


    "I know what you mean. Let''s speak under the shed," Benjicot said, tightening his cor as he led the king and Cregan to a corner, sheltered from the wind.


    The fire flickered gently, sparks sshing into the air as the three sat around it, reaching out to warm themselves. Rhaegar wasted no time.


    "There are White Walkers beyond the Wall, and the free folk cannot simply be killed off," he stated bluntly. "The best solution is to move them within the Wall."


    He couldn''t make the mistake of "killing the goose thatys the golden egg." Allowing the wildlings to die or be driven into the arms of the Others would only swell the ranks of the undead.


    "Your Grace, I understand your ambitions," Benjicot said, stirring the fire with a branch to make it burn brighter, his eyes dark and thoughtful. "But this is the North. The wildlings and the Northerners have been enemies for generations. Even the Night''s Watch is filled with hatred for them."


    Integrating the wildlings behind the Wall would be no easy task. Trusting them was one thing, but persuading the people of the North to ept them was another.


    "The people of the North believe in order and tradition. Reconciling them with the wildlings will be nearly impossible," Cregan added, shaking his head with a sigh. As Lord of the North, his authority was clear, and his perspective carried the most weight. From birth, the wildlings had been seen as enemies��those views were deeply ingrained.


    "It has to be done," Rhaegar said sternly, his voice leaving no room for debate. "If the free folk aren''t allowed behind the Wall, the Others'' numbers will skyrocket."


    "I can persuade the opposition within the Night''s Watch," Benjicot said, his face expressionless. The wildling attack had decimated their ranks. Out of the original 2,000 members, barely a few hundred remained, and half of the 3,000 new recruits had been lost. With so few left, and a proper reshuffling of roles, opposition could be contained.


    After speaking, Benjicot''s sharp old eyes shifted toward the young Lord of the North.


    Cregan looked hesitant, but after a long pause, he finally nodded. "I can arrange for the wildlings to be given the Gift''s less fertilends. I''ll do my best to appease my advisers."


    That was as much as he could offer.


    "Let''s do it." Rhaegar tossed a log onto the fire, patting his hands to rid them of snow.


    "I��ll speak with Lord Roderick first," Cregan said, rising quietly, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders. He left without another word, disappearing into the growing night.


    By the fire, only Rhaegar and Benjicot remained. After a few moments of silence, Rhaegar broke it. "Are you doing well at the Wall?"


    There was something different about a man who had lived through the passage of time, and Rhaegar felt it in Benjicot.


    "Not bad, though the Wall doesn��t have the warmth of the Rivends," Benjicot replied with augh, his weathered face crinkling. From his features, it was clear he had been a handsome man in his youth.


    "Your grandson has inherited Raventree Hall and serves at my eldest son��s side. He��s a courageousd," Rhaegar remarked, sounding weary as the conversation drifted to more personal matters.


    "I heard Samwell died a heroic death," Benjicot said calmly, his voice steady even as he spoke of his only son��s demise. "He was worthy of being my son." There was a quiet, generous dignity in his eyes as he delivered the painful news.


    Rhaegar nodded, but said nothing. Samwell had been a good man, but it was a pity he had fallen to the Ironborn.


    "Do you remember the maesters and prisoners you banished?" Benjicot shifted the conversation with a light joke. "When I first arrived, the Maester of the Dragonpit��who had lost his hand��was still alive. He froze to death the following winter."


    The Citadel had been abolished, reced by the royal school, and its former prestige had crumbled. The maester, who had once harbored selfish ambitions for the dragons, had fared no better.


    Rhaegar barely reacted, raising his eyelids with disinterest. The old stories of his youth held little appeal now.


    The two men chatted in fits and starts, as the fire burned brighter with each log added. Darkness deepened, and beyond the mes, the wildlings were being rounded up by the Night��s Watch and brought back to the Wall.


    Suddenly, Benjicot pulled a silver sk from his coat and asked, "Have you ever met your grandmother?"


    "Huh?" Rhaegar blinked, taken aback by the sudden question. He shook his head. "No, I��ve only seen my mother once in my dreams."


    "Your grandmother was a beauty," Benjicot said, his eyes reflecting a distant memory. "Dae Targaryen, the sixth daughter of the Old King, had skin as white as milk and a temperament as gentle as a kitten." There was a trace of regret in his voice, as if her memory still stirred something within him.


    Rhaegar frowned slightly and replied casually, "It��s normal for my great-grandfather to have traveled the Seven Kingdoms and visited Crow��s Nest Hall with my great-grandmother."


    Rhaenyra had been there too. Samwell ckwood, had been among her suitors.


    He had even stabbed a Bracken for making a rudement.


    "No, it was more than just a visit," Old Benjicot said, his expression turning serious. "Your grandmother was of marriageable age at the time, and I was fortunate enough to be one of the candidates."


    The young Princess Dae had met many promising men from across the Seven Kingdoms. Unfortunately, few had managed to impress her. On one asion, she faced an insult from House Lannister, which enraged the Old King, already anxious about his daughter''s future. But fortune smiled upon Princess Dae when she visited Raventree Hall and met the eldest son and heir of the ckwood family: The Old Benjicot, now sitting across from Rhaegar.


    Rhaegar, unfamiliar with the past, listened quietly. Benjicot had been one of the most handsome men of his time��skilled in archery and swordsmanship, proficient in the harp, and well-versed in history. It was easy to see why Dae had fallen in love with him at first sight. They had even shared an affair during her stay at Crow''s Nest.


    However, the Faith of the Seven had poisoned many hearts. Devout as she was, Princess Dae had been horrified to discover that the ckwoods worshipped the Old Gods. Heartbroken and fearful, she fled from Crow''s Nest, and their rtionship was never consummated.


    The Old King, frustrated and tired of the endless obstacles, eventually married his daughter to Lord Arryn, who had retired from public life. At the age of 18, Dae entered The Eyrie, only to die of puerperal fever at 19.


    "My grandmother was an innocent maiden," Rhaegar said, his voice t and tinged with coldness. "Like many of her sisters, she didn''t have a happy ending."


    He knew well the tragic fates that had befallen his mother, grandmother, and many of his great-uncles and aunts. Saera Targaryen, who had traveled to Vntis, had once remarked that the continent of Westeros was too cold to wee the Targaryens with their fiery blood. The Faith of the Seven and the Citadel had long been targets of suspicion and retaliation.


    "If your grandmother had married me, things might have turned out differently," Benjicot mused. "She was truly a wonderful woman, but the Old King never had much patience when it came to his daughters'' marriages."


    Having many children had been one of the Old King''s greatest strengths, but the misfortunes that gued his children became the darkest stain of hister years.


    "No one is perfect," Rhaegar murmured softly, reluctant to pass judgment on the figures of history. Without the help of the Explorer��s System and the care of Rhaenyra from an early age, he knew he wouldn��t have achieved what he had.


    Benjicot gave a small smile, raised his silver sk, and said, "To Princess Dae."


    Taking a sip, he passed the sk to Rhaegar, who stared at it for a moment before taking a small sip himself. "To my great-grandfather, Old King Jaehaerys I."


    Benjicot chuckled, patting his thigh as he stood up. Before leaving, he offered a parting word, "I support your decision. The free folk are also part of the Kingdom."


    With that, he returned to the gathering of Night''s Watch.


    Rhaegar sat in a daze, staring at the sk''s empty bottom. He began to understand the meaning behind Benjicot��s words. The elder had a unique perspective, shaped by his origins in the Rivends��a view that differed from the rigid prejudices of the North against the free folk. The divide between the Northmen and the free folk, after all, was rooted only in which side they had chosen when the Wall was built.


    ...


    The next day...


    The main force from Winterfell arrived at the Wall. Leading the way were 5,000 Unsullied, marching into Castle ck with precision and imposing discipline.


    "Your Grace, we��ve brought plenty of food and livestock," Grey Worm reported, standing tall and proud aftermanding an army of over 10,000 men on the long journey.


    "Well done, you''ve had a long journey," Rhaegar praised, watching as the carts of supplies were unloaded. With this abundance, they now had enough resources to sustain a major battle.


    "Thanks to Her Grace, the Queen," Grey Worm added quietly as he passed. "She also asked me to tell you to rest."


    Rhaegar��s heart warmed at the message. He turned and gave Grey Worm a nod. "The wildling army has copsed. Select some men and go beyond the Wall to scout the situation."


    Beyond the Wall, the White Walkers roamed freely. While the White Walkers could glean information from the free folk inside the Wall, the free folk remained ignorant of the growing threat. Reliable eyes were needed to assess the danger.


    "Yes, Your Grace," Grey Worm replied loyally, without hesitation.


    By the afternoon, the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, and Castle ck came to life. The newly arrived allied forces set up camp and lit fires, bringing a rare buzz of activity to the usually quiet stronghold.


    ...


    In front of the underground passageway, Grey Worm stood ready, a spear in his hand. The steel tip had been reced with a dragonss dagger.


    "Is this thing really useful?" Robb asked, seated on his warhorse, doubt in his voice. Half the arrows in his quiver had been reced with dragonss tips, as ordered by the King.


    "I don��t know," Grey Worm responded matter-of-factly, testing the spear with a few practice swings. "Just follow orders."


    "Don��t worry, use it. It��s meant for the White Walkers," a voice piped up. The Child of the Forest, hidden in a corner, spoke without stepping any closer.


    Grey Worm and Robb exchanged a nce before each turned to gather their selected men.


    "Porus,e with me. Bring me a weapon that suits me," Grey Worm called.


    A small giant, five meters tall, strode over, d in heavy silver-gray armor.


    "Nothing for you, half-blood giant," the Child of the Forest remarked, tilting its head in amazement.


    Porus frowned, clearly displeased. "Porus is a small giant, not a half-blood giant," he corrected, swinging a massive battle hammer that hung from his back with great force. The ground seemed to shudder slightly under his movements.


    Bang! Bang! Heavy footsteps echoed from behind.


    The giant Nunu approached, his eight-meter-tall frame towering over the smaller giant. His voice rumbled like distant thunder as he asked, "You��re also a giant. When did you enter the Great Wall?"


    "I��m from the south," the little giant replied proudly, lifting his head to observe Nunu��s ugly, weather-beaten face and rough leather coat.


    "The armor you��re wearing is sturdy," Nunu noted, his eyes filled with envy as he knocked his fist against the little giant��s solid armor. It was clear he had taken an immediate liking to this smaller counterpart. Supplies were scarce among the free folk, and theycked the resources for proper equipment. Most iron weapons were either seized from the crows or bought from passing merchant caravans.


    For giants, who required enormous amounts of metal for their armor and weapons, it was rare to see anyone so well-equipped. Even having an iron-studded mace was considered a powerful asset.


    "Of course. It was forged by the best craftsman," the little giant said with pride, his honest face glowing. He clenched his fist and yfully knocked it against Nunu��s chest. "You��re quite the beauty yourself��so tall and strong."


    Nunu��s grin stretched wide,ughter booming like thunder across the snow.


    "What? A woman?" Robb asked, stunned, as he stared at the shaggy, rough-looking giant.


    Grey Worm, trying to maintainposure, muttered, "Maybe." He, too, wasn��t sure. The giants,rge or small, were both part of the expedition, but given Nunu��s appearance, who could tell their gender?


    "Here, take my hammer," the smaller giant offered, scratching his head before handing over his cherished battle hammer.


    Nunu epted it with a grin, then returned the favor by handing over the oversized bow and quiver slung across his back.


    The Child of the Forest, who had been observing nearby, pped his hands in excitement.


    "Child of the Forest, go away. You��re not allowed past the Great Wall," Nunu said, frowning as he flicked the small figure��who resembled a squirrel more than a man��into a nearby snowdrift.


    Coughing and spitting out a mouthful of snow, the Child of the Forest scurried away angrily.


    With a grunt, Nunu straightened up and opened the repaired iron gate. It''s ears and fingers, which had been severed by ckfyre, had miraculously healed, thanks to the special medicine of the Children of the Forest��and, of course, the incredible resilience of the giants.

 Chapter 669: The Army of the Dead

    Chapter 669: The Army of the Dead


    Casterly Rock, the Westends


    A towering, craggy cliff loomed over thend, with a steep, ancient castle built against the mountainside.


    "Roar..."


    A long, piercing dragon roar echoed through the air. It was as if a scarlet serpent-like dragon was climbing the steep walls of the city.


    Below, the guards stood pale and trembling, their hands barely steady as they gripped their weapons.


    Inside the castle��s grand hall, Daemon held the Dark Sister close and whispered, "I heard someone was ill, but it doesn��t look that way to me."


    "Prince, please calm yourself," pleaded a young, handsome knight, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword as he watched Daemon��s every movement with nervous intensity.


    "Oh, do I seem impulsive?" Daemon tilted his head, pressing the Dark Sister��s de closer to the neck of the man sprawled at his feet.


    Jason Lannistery stiffly on the floor, pale as the stone beneath him, his hands raised in submission. A cold Valyrian steel de rested against his throat, while Daemon��s heavy boot dug into his chest, pinning him mercilessly. Looking up, Jason met Daemon��s icy gaze and cursed his luck. He had underestimated the reckless nature of the Rogue Prince.His attempt to offer a warm wee��hoping to cover up his mistake of dying his troops��had failed the moment Daemon kicked him to the ground, stomping on his pride as easily as his chest.


    "Am I reckless, Lord Jason?" Daemon asked, lifting Jason��s chin with the tip of his sword, his expression half-amused, half-menacing.


    "N-no, of course not," Jason stammered, shaking his head quickly. He dared not contradict the prince, forcing a weak smile to hide his fear.


    "You see, Ser Adrian," Daemon continued, now addressing the young knight who had dared to stand his ground. His tone was yful, but his words sharp. "Ie in friendship��as a friend of House Lannister."


    With that, Daemon lifted his foot, releasing Jason, who immediately scrambled behind the safety of the guards, his body trembling with relief.


    Adrian Tarbeck, however, was not so easily cowed. He drew his sword and stepped between Daemon and his lord, his stance tense.


    "Don��t be nervous," Daemon said, his voice almost dismissive as he sheathed his sword and pulled up a chair. "If I wanted to kill someone, you wouldn��t be able to stop me."


    Adrian frowned but said nothing, though his distrust was clear. He opened his mouth to respond when suddenly, another dragon��s roar echoed from outside��long and thin, carrying with it a warning to all within the castle.


    Daemon smiled faintly, listening intently. His arrogant posture betrayed no concern for the men around him.


    "Prince, what brings you here?" Adrian asked through gritted teeth, though he already knew the answer. Behind him, Jason Lannister still cowered, his once-pristine blond hair now a disheveled mess.


    "The Kingdom Alliance has already reached the North," Daemon said, his expression darkening. "Why have the Westends dyed sending their forces?" His gaze shifted to Jason, who flinched. "From what I��ve seen, Lord Jason doesn��t seem to be as ��unwell�� as you imed in your letter."


    Daemon��s eyes narrowed as he recalled the sight of Jason earlier, drinking and indulging with whores��far from the ailing man described. His boot on Jason��s chest had been a fitting punishment for such deceit.


    "We��ll send troops��right away!" Adrian said quickly, pulling on Jason��s sleeve to snap him out of his stupor.


    "Yes, yes, of course!" Jason stammered, still dazed. "We��ll march from Golden Tooth immediately."


    Daemon��s eyes lingered on the two men, cold and calcting. "This is your first warning. Next time, Dragonfire will do the talking."


    With a sharp movement, Daemon stood, pressing his hands on the armrests of the chair as he rose. His dark attire, sleek and powerful, made him appear more dangerous than ever. His long, silver-gold hair flowed behind him as he strode toward the exit, leaving the room in tense silence.


    ...


    Outside the castle, Caraxes waited.


    "Roar..."


    The scarlet dragon stretched his long neck, opening his sharp maw to let out another shriek. He pped his wide, leathery wings, lifting off the ground with a thunderous beat. His two hind legs, small but powerful, spread as heunched himself off the towering cliff, diving downward.


    Through the thickyers of mist, the scarlet dragon tore through the barrier of clouds, disappearing from view. The proud lords of the Westends could only watch in awe and fear as the red dragon vanished into the hazy skies, its presence a sharp reminder of the power Daemon Targaryen wielded.


    ...


    The Wall, to the North


    The crunch of light footsteps echoed in the snow as a small group moved slowly forward.


    Grey Worm, d in ck armor, marched at the front, his olive-toned face hardened by the cold, now marked with frostbite from the relentless wind. His determination remained unshaken despite the harsh conditions.


    "How long do we have to keep walking?" came a muffled voice from a tall giant wrapped in thick animal furs, his rough hands gripping the reins of a mammoth. His bulk made him look more like a bear than a man.


    "Soon, just a little longer," replied Giant Nunu, turning to nce back at the rest of the group. Nunu carried a newly acquired war hammer on its back and led six other giants��fourrge and two small��along with two mammoths draped in animal skins and straw.


    The giants, like Nunu, were wrapped in heavy furs, dragging sleds loaded with supplies behind them. These were her people, survivors of the harsh cold, now on the verge of a new life within the Great Wall.


    "Okay, whatever you say," the tall giant muttered, satisfied with the answer. Not known for his brains, he fell silent. The other giants, grunting softly, kept to themselves, more like silent shadows as they trudged forward.


    Robb, riding his emaciated warhorse, nced over at Grey Worm. "We��ve notified more than a dozen free folk tribes, but we still haven��t seen a single Shadow of the Dead."


    "Just wait a little longer," Grey Worm said, his eyes fixed ahead, unwavering in his loyalty to the king''s orders.


    Robb sighed inwardly. Without Nunu��s help, the free folk beyond the Wall might have torn them apart by now. But the Shadows��those legendary creatures of death��they weren''t something that could just appear onmand. His eyes lifted to the darkening sky, sensing an approaching snowstorm. If they didn��t return to the Wall before it hit, they might all be stranded.


    "O... oww... ow..."


    A mournful howl suddenly cut through the cold air, drifting from deep within the forest. Robb��s senses sharpened. He quickly disassembled his longbow. "Something��s up," he said, his sharp eyes scanning the snowden trees.


    "Don��t worry. It��s probably just a pack of wolves hunting," Grey Worm replied, though he too unstrapped his spear and round shield, sensing the growing tension.


    Nunu sniffed the air, it''srge nose twitching. His expression shifted, a trace of concern crossing its features. "No... that��s not an ordinary wolf. That��s the howl of a direwolf."


    "Direwolf?"


    The dozen or so humans in the group froze, exchanging uneasy nces. None had ever encountered such a beast before. Like the White Hart, the Giants, and the Shadow Creatures, Direwolves were creatures of legend, rarely seen and even less often survived.


    "Ow..."


    The rustling of bushes grew louder, the wolf��s howl more piercing and frantic.


    Plop!


    Suddenly, from the thicket, a massive white wolf burst into view, charging out of the forest in sheer panic. Its snow-white fur gleamed against the grey sky as it ran for its life.


    "Direwolves are solitary," Robb muttered, watching in awe. "To see one flee..."


    The Direwolf, a creature at the top of the food chain, wouldn��t run unless something far more terrifying was close behind.


    Whatever wasing, it was worse than anything they had expected.


    "Everyone on guard! It could be the Thenns!" Robb shouted, drawing his bowstring tight.


    The Thenn were a breed apart from the other free folk��ruthless, bloodthirsty, and notorious for cannibalism. But there were no bone arrows whistling through the trees, and the forest was eerily quiet.


    The snow-white direwolf bolted south, heedless of the blood dripping from its wounded hind leg. The unseen pressure weighed heavily on the group, a growing dread gnawing at their hearts.


    Robb and Grey Worm remained locked in ce, eyes fixed on the treeline, nerves taut as bowstrings. The giants, sensing danger, hefted their wooden weapons and began slowly dragging their supplyden sleds backward.


    But whatever lurked in the forest had no intention of letting them retreat.


    Rustle... rustle...


    A sudden burst of noise broke the silence��heavy stomping, as if a thousand feet pounded the snow at once. Yet the forest remained still, the only other sound the wind stirring the leaves. It was as if the very trees harbored ghosts, watching and waiting.


    "Be careful, everyone. Retreat slowly," Grey Worm ordered, his voice low and measured. He was an experienced warrior and knew when to fall back.


    Rumble... rumble... rumble...


    The ground beneath them seemed to shake, the sound swelling, growing louder. Grey Worm''s eyes widened, his body tensing as an icy shiver ran down his spine.


    "Roar..."


    Out of the forest charged the first wave of the dead��dressed in tattered wildling clothes, their ghastly grey faces contorted in a savage snarl. Their eyes glowed with an eerie blue light.


    "They''re wights! They''re here to eat us!" Nunu bellowed, furious, as he swung its massive battle hammer.


    Bang!


    Two of the dead crumpled under the weight of the hammer��s blow, their bodies reduced to pulp under the one-meter-wide head of the weapon. The force of the strike scattered the other ghouls, and Nunu��s roar echoed across the frozenndscape.


    Crackling...


    But a momentter, the fallen ghouls began to twitch, their joints rotating unnaturally, limbs twisting as they scrambled back to their feet. As if nothing had happened, they lunged once more.


    Nunu, caught off guard, was tackled to the ground by a wight that clung to his chest, teeth bared.


    "Roar!"


    More wights swarmed, like ants descending on a fallen prey. Their hideous growls filled the air as they piled onto the giant.


    "Help! Save Nunu!" Grey Worm shouted, his face pale with rm. Without hesitation, he drove his spear into the chest of an advancing wight, but the undead horde showed no signs of slowing.


    <em>Pop!</em>


    A miraculous scene unfolded. The undead, impervious to the warhammer��s crushing blows, suddenly froze in ce. Their bodies disintegrated like fragile building blocks, copsing into dust.


    Grey Worm stood momentarily stunned, then nced at the spearhead in his hand��polished with dragonss.


    "It��s the dragonss! Dragonss can kill the undead!"


    With renewed vigor, Grey Worm spun his spear with lightning speed, creating an imprable barrier as he cut through the swarm of wights. His movements were swift and precise, the ck blood of the dead spraying in all directions.


    The others quickly followed suit, drawing their dragonss daggers. The giants,cking such weapons, wielded their massive wooden clubs, which��while not as lethal as dragonss��still packed enough force to tten a wight with a single blow.


    "Roar! Come to Nunu!"


    Despite the hundreds of wights, Giant Nunu roared in fury, rising to his feet as he ripped the undead clinging to his body away, hurling them to the ground. Each impact sent up a cloud of snow, the stiff bodies of the wights breaking apart beneath the relentless assault of the giant��s fists and feet.


    "Hurry! Throw everything away!" Grey Worm shouted, urgently stripping the young giants and mammoths of their heavy supply bundles.


    <em>Shhhhhh...</em>


    The army of ghouls pressed in closer, their numbers unrelenting. Like swarming mosquitoes, they bit and wed at the living with savage fury. The situation was growing dire. Nunu, swinging his warhammer with one hand, scooped up Grey Worm and Robb in the other. His massive feet kicked away the stumbling wights, each step sending corpses flying.


    "Whoa, whoa..."


    A sudden, hoarse neigh echoed from the distance.


    In an instant, the chaotic horde of ghouls froze, as if they had received some unseenmand. Grey Worm, cold sweat dripping down his face, poked his head out of Nunu��s grasp to see what had caused the sudden halt.


    At the edge of the forest, deep pits had formed in the snow. Emerging from the shadows was a decaying warhorse, its rider pale and haunting. The strange man sat tall in the saddle, his face expressionless and lifeless, one hand gripping the reins, the other slowly rising into the air.


    He moved like themander of this ghastly army.


    The air grew thick with dread as the man opened his mouth, though no sound came. Yet the effect was immediate.


    "Roar..."


    The army of ghouls erupted into motion, their ice-blue eyes shing with renewed menace. Thousands of them surged forward, as if driven by the silent will of their mysterious leader.

 Chapter 670: The Red Queen Arrives at the Great Wall

    Chapter 670: The Red Queen Arrives at the Great Wall


    Seven days and nightster...


    Outside the Great Wall, deep in the Haunted Forest, a massive wolf with snow-white fur limped out of the trees, each stepbored. The creature was immense��five meters in length and two meters tall at the shoulder. Even against the nket of snow, it stood out like a ghost.


    <em>ng!</em>


    The hurried ringing of a bell echoed from atop the Wall, a signal from the sentries.


    "Every day, more wildlings enter the Wall. Security is getting worse," Cregan remarked, his voice filled with concern as he walked along the battlements. His face showed the strain of recent days.


    Rhaegar, walking beside him, was resolute. "We must keep epting them. The free folk govern themselves. If trouble arises, their tribal leaders must deal with it."


    <em>Ding-dong!</em>


    The bell tolled again, more urgently this time. Both men nced up, and Rhaegar quickened his pace toward the watchtower. As soon as he reached it, his eyes caught sight of the enormous, snow-white wolf below.


    "That''s a direwolf��and it''s white!?" Cregan eximed, his eyes wide with shock. It was the first time he''d ever seen a living embodiment of House Stark''s sigil."There''s someone on its back," Rhaegar said, his sharp eyesight catching the ck-armored figure slumped across the wolf. Without hesitation, he turned and rushed down from the battlements.


    When they reached the ground, they saw it clearly��the direwolf carried a rider, an Unsullied soldier d in ck armor. The Night''s Watch hurriedly lowered the direwolf into the underground passage using a winch and a longdder.


    As the figure on the wolf''s back slid to the ground and turned over, Rhaegar''s heart froze.


    "Grey Worm!?"


    He rushed to the fallen warrior, disbelief and fear flooding his mind. Gently lifting the limp figure, he looked down at his trustedmander.


    <em>Shhhh!</em>


    The direwolf bared its teeth, growling low and menacing, poised to attack.


    "Easy now. We mean no harm," Cregan said, approaching with his arms outstretched, trying to calm the beast.


    The direwolf seemed to understand, its growl fading as it backed away warily, curling up in the corner. Its left hind leg was mangled, arge chunk of flesh missing, the wound festering. The bite marks were unmistakable��it had been injured by something far more deadly than the cold.


    Cregan stood by, his breath heavy, shielding Rhaegar from danger.


    "It''s Grey Worm. He��s been attacked," Rhaegar muttered grimly as he inspected the wound. Grey Worm was deathly pale, his body rigid from cold and blood loss. A deep, prating wound marred his abdomen, and bite marks covered his limbs. He had clearly lost a significant amount of blood.


    "Hold on, Grey Worm. I''ll take you to the Maester," Rhaegar said, his voice thick with urgency as he lifted themander in his arms and made his way back into Castle ck.


    Grey Worm, themander of 5,000 Unsullied and 3,000 Fearless, was one of Rhaegar��s most valuable and loyal assets. If not for the dire threat of the White Walkers, Rhaegar would never have risked sending him out on such a dangerous mission. But now, the worst hade to pass��Grey Worm was grievously injured, and those who had gone with him, including Robb, the small giant Porus, and the giant Nunu, were missing.


    <em>Kaboom!</em>


    Rhaegar kicked open the attic door of Castle ck��s library. "Tru, quickly, help me!" he called out in a low butmanding voice.


    The attic was a clutter of alchemy tools and strange devices, the air thick with the pungent smells of potions and chemicals. A tall, rotund figure stood at an experimental table, carefully mixing a glowing green liquid.


    "Be careful, Your Grace," Tru said in rm, setting down the vial of green solution with care and wiping his hands on his grey Maester��s robe.


    Rhaegar ced Grey Worm gently on the bed in the corner, his voice sharp with urgency. "Cut the nonsense, Tru��lives are at stake."


    Tru looked slightly hurt but quickly set to work. He removed Grey Worm��s battered armor, his hands moving efficiently as he began the treatment. "Prating abdominal wound, but the object missed the vital organs... strange, though." He muttered to himself, then added, "There are many surface wounds. He��ll need a special solution to clean them."


    Rhaegar stood by, watching as Tru worked with practiced skill. In no time, Grey Worm was wrapped in bandages, his body mummified inyers of cloth.


    "The injuries are severe, especially the frostbite," Tru said, wiping the sweat from his brow as he took a deep breath. "But he''s in excellent physical condition. He��ll pull through, I''m sure of it."


    Rhaegar didn��t reply immediately. His gaze darkened, and suddenly, a ck mist began to swirl from his right hand.


    <em>Ssssshhh...</em>


    From the mist, a t, round serpent materialized, slithering onto Grey Worm��s bandaged body. The creature greedily absorbed the dark mist that enveloped him, its thin form coiling and shifting as it worked its magic.


    Moments passed, and then��


    "Cough, cough..."


    Grey Worm coughed violently, a mouthful of foul blood spilling from his lips. His chest heaved as he sucked in a sharp breath of air.


    "Are you all right?" Rhaegar asked, his voice filled with concern.


    Grey Worm blinked, his eyes fluttering open. The moment he saw his king, emotions overwhelmed him, and tears welled up in his eyes. "The White Walkers... we encountered the White Walkers. Robb and the others... they got separated." His voice trembled as he recalled the harrowing ordeal.


    They had been ambushed by an army of the dead, barely managing to fight their way out. But then a mounted White Walker appeared from the shadows, cold and arrogant, its ice-blue eyes filled with disdain for the living.


    Grey Worm had seized an opening and fought the White Walker one-on-one, but his hardwood spear had been shattered into dust by the creature��s ice spear in a single blow. The next instant, the icy de had pierced his abdomen, and the pain had overwhelmed him. When he awoke, the battlefield was silent and dark��Robb, the giants, and the rest were gone, leaving him unconscious and alone.


    Fortunately, the direwolf had returned to the scene and, instead of devouring him, carried him to safety. He had barely survived.


    "Your Grace," Grey Worm choked out, lowering his head in guilt, "Robb and the others have disappeared. What are we to do?" His voice broke, the weight of failure heavy on his shoulders.


    "You focus on healing first," Rhaegar whispered, his tone soft yetmanding. He quietly summoned the power of the runes, pushing more energy into the serpent to speed up Grey Worm��s recovery.


    <em>Creak</em>


    The door swung open from outside, and a figure d in green burst into the room.


    <em>Sniff, sniff...</em>


    The Child of the Forest��s nostrils red slightly in surprise. ��It��s the sacrificial power of the First Men... and the putrid stench of White Walkers.��


    The small figure darted across the room, moving quickly to Grey Worm��s bedside, its bright green eyes scanning every detail. First, it spotted the serpent coiled around Grey Worm, its body exuding ck mist, and a flicker of hatred crossed the Child��s face. Then, as it took in the sight of Grey Worm��s bandaged, mummy-like form, that hatred shifted to fear. It gingerly lifted Grey Worm��s scratched arm, inspecting it closely.


    ��Careful, he��s still injured,�� Tru said, trying to nudge the Child of the Forest away.


    The Child bared her teeth in a silent snarl, sending the plump Maester scrambling backward.


    ��Don��t scare him. He��s valuable,�� Rhaegar said, grabbing the Child��s head and pushing it down gently while brushing aside her chestnut-colored hair.


    This wasn��t an ordinary creature. Tru was skilled in alchemy and could create wildfire��a weapon more potent than oil, and more practical than a pumpkin bomb. It was invaluable for defending the Wall.


    ��Yes, yes, of course,�� Tru nodded quickly, patting his head nervously while hugging his small, plump frame.


    The Child��s gaze remained uneasy, his voice tense. ��The White Walkers are here, aren��t they?��


    The tension in the room thickened. The Child knew what it had smelled. Grey Worm��s wounds, particrly the bite marks, told the story��he had been attacked by a corpse bear, one of the terrifying creations of the White Walkers.


    Rhaegar��s eyes darkened as he nodded. ��Yes, the White Walkers are gathering an army outside the Wall, including their corpse bears.�� The army of the dead was terrifying��no human force could stand against it for long. And with the dragons unwilling to cross the Wall, not yet limated to the freezing cold of the North, their strength was still uncertain. The enemy remained hidden in the shadows.


    The Child of the Forest muttered, ��If we want to defend the Wall, we have to go beyond it. If we find the Heart Tree in thends beyond, the Greenseer will tell us how to defeat the White Walkers.��


    ��Aren��t you a Greenseer?�� Rhaegar asked, frowning slightly.


    The Child, with its brown skin, chestnut hair, and small stature, was a strange creature. Those with green eyes, like Terry, were typically the Greenseers of the tribe, gifted with the magical ��Green Sight�� that allowed them to see into the future.


    ��I am a Greenseer, but not the strongest,�� the Child replied, its voice low and strained. ��Only the most powerful Greenseer can see all��predict everything, including the weaknesses of the White Walkers.�� The Child��s own powers, though impressive, were limited. Only the most gifted could match the threat of the undead.


    Rhaegar fell silent, deep in thought. ��My dragon can cross the Wall,�� he said, ��but the true strength of the White Walkers is still unknown.��


    With Robb and the others still missing beyond the Wall, it was imperative to find a way to rescue them��and uncover more about the army of the dead. The Night King might still be dormant, but winter wasing fast. This might be their best chance.


    ��The White Walkers can raise the dead, but they themselves are not invincible,�� the Child said eagerly, its green eyes glowing with hope. ��If we can find the legendary Heart Tree and the strongest Greenseer, we can destroy them all.��


    Rhaegar��s mind raced. He recalled the prophecies of Quaithe, the mysterious witch from ver��s Bay.


    Two of her predictions had already proven urate. The ��dead dragon�� likely referred to his second son, Aemon, though whether Aemon was alive or not remained unclear. Then there was the warning about the man with the wounded knee, which now seemed to suggest the dragons�� reluctance to cross the Wall��the magic protecting the Wall was strong, keeping both White Walkers and dragons at bay.


    But the final prophecy, along with Vaegon the Dragonless��sst will, pointed East��to Asshai, the shadowed city. Quaithe had hinted that the solution to the White Walker threaty there. Rhaegar trusted Quaithe��s cryptic wisdom more than the Child of the Forest��s wild ims. After all, the serpent by his side had once tricked him��but its abilities were beyond question.


    ��Rest and don��t think too much,�� Rhaegar said softly to Grey Worm, withdrawing the serpent as he patted themander��s shoulder. The Child of the Forest��s eyes sparkled with anticipation, waiting for an answer, but Rhaegar paid it no mind. Instead, he instructed Tru to keep a close watch over Grey Worm, then grabbed the Child by its curly brown hair and dragged it out of the room.


    ��The Wall must be defended, but on our terms,�� Rhaegar muttered to himself as the door shut behind them.


    ...


    Bay of Seals, Eastwatch-by-the-Sea


    The Wall stretched thousands of miles from east to west, its easternmost edge jutting into the icy waters of the Bay of Seals. Along this colossal barrier, the Night��s Watch had built more than ten strongholds to defend against the threats of White Walkers and wildlings. Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, guarding the eastern end, stood sentinel over the cold, unforgiving bay.


    <em>Ssh!</em>


    Waves crashed against the shore, breaking on the ice drifting atop the frigid waters. A fleet of ships, bearing the green-and-white seahorse sigil of House Vryon, docked at the stronghold. Thousands of soldiers disembarked with military precision, their boots crunching in the snow as they assembled.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Above, a majestic red dragon, its scarlet scales shimmering in the winter sunlight, soared through the skies. A crown of fierce, horned crests circled its neck, and its massive wings beat furiously against the cold air as it patrolled the Wall. From the ground, it looked like a sh of red lightning cutting through the sky.


    With a <em>thundering rumble,</em> the dragon descended, sending plumes of snow flying into the air as itnded.


    ��What��s the situation, Rhaenys?��


    Corlys Vryon, dressed in heavy cotton armor, stood calmly before the dragon. His gaze was sharp, but his posture was rxed.


    ��Stay down, old girl,�� Rhaenys Targaryen murmured to Meleys, the scarlet dragon, who shifted restlessly. ��There aren��t many Night��s Watchmen here at Eastwatch, but no signs of wildlings attacking the city.��


    Meleys, however, refused to cross the Wall. She sensed something beyond the frozen battlements that made her uneasy. Rhaenys understood her dragon��s reluctance.


    ��Don��t worry, the Night��s Watch aren��t that useless yet,�� Corlys said with a reassuring smile. He took off his cloak and draped it over his wife��s shoulders.


    Thanks to the Old King��s attention, the Night��s Watch had been grantedrge swaths ofnd and significant funding to repair their fortresses. Viserys had inherited his grandfather��smitment, and under his reign, the Watch had remained strong, bolstered by royal support. Now, with Rhaegar on the throne, their strength rivaled that of the noble houses from the First Men.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    A light silver dragon suddenly soared overhead, gliding along the Wall��s edge and heading west over the Bay of Seals.


    ��Where is Laenor going?�� Rhaenys asked, her voice edged with concern as she watched the silver dragon disappear into the distance. Something in her gut told her that danger awaited beyond the Wall.


    Corlys followed her gaze, his expression turning serious. ��The Bay of Seals has frozen early this year��we��re already behind schedule.�� He paused before adding gravely, ��Castle ck may need reinforcement. Laenor��s heading there to support them on our behalf.��


    Rhaenys frowned, the tension in her chest building. ��Viserys warned that the White Walkers are real. We can��t afford to take any risks.�� She was mindful of the true purpose behind their journey north: to aid in the defense against the looming threat beyond the Wall.


    ��Don��t worry about him,�� Corlys said confidently, puffing out his chest. ��Laenor��s not the reckless boy he once was. He��s more than capable.�� He nced at his wife with a grin. ��Besides, it��s not like the royal family has any spare dragons lying around.��


    The House of Vryon had long stood at the top of the Seven Kingdoms, the most reliable and powerful ally of House Targaryen. Their shared history from ancient Valyria bonded them in blood and fire.

 Chapter 671: Aemon and Quaithe

    Chapter 671: Aemon and Quaithe


    The Dothraki Great Grass Sea


    <em>Vaes Dothrak �C Mother of Mountains</em>


    The Dothraki horde crossed the vast, endless expanse of the Great Grass Sea, returning to the sacred hearnd of their horse-lord ns. At the entrance to Vaes Dothrak, two towering bronze horse statues stood guard over the avenue, symbols of the horse gods the Dothraki revered.


    Along the wide road, statues of harpies, dragons, griffins, and other creatures lined the path��some charming, others grotesque and terrifying. These relics, trophies of conquest, had been plundered from the Free Cities and distant viges, carried back by the Dothraki as proof of their dominance.


    At the foot of the Mother of Mountains, the holy peak sacred to all Dothraki, the sh of metal rang out suddenly.


    <em>ng!</em>


    A silver-haired boy in an animal-skin coat, his face flushed with exertion, swung a Dothraki arakh with furious energy. His blows were relentless but uncoordinated.


    "Too slow, False Dragon," mocked a scarred Bloodrider, a seasoned warrior of the league, effortlessly parrying each attack. His tone was t, as if unimpressed by the boy��s efforts. Each time Aemon��s scimitar came crashing down, the Bloodrider blocked it easily, flicking the de away with a casual twist of his wrist.


    "Ah! I won��t believe I can��t beat you!" Aemon shouted in frustration, swinging the curved de��longer than he was tall��in a wide arc.His once-pale skin had turned a deep wheat color from months under the relentless sun. His tight animal-skin shirt left his chest exposed, giving him an air of wildness that contrasted sharply with his noble origins. In stance, at least, he resembled a warrior.


    <em>Bang!</em>


    Without warning, the Bloodridershed out with his foot,nding a hard kick squarely on Aemon��s corbone, just below the exposed skin of his shirt. Aemon grunted as the force sent him flying backwards. He tumbled across the ground, adding fresh scrapes to his already bruised and scarred arms. His vision swam as he tried to focus.


    "Stupidly clever. Truly hopeless," the Bloodrider muttered with disdain, spinning his arakh behind his back before striding off toward the Mother of Mountains. ording to Dothraki tradition, no iron weapons could be carried within the sacred grounds of the mountain. Every time he beat the boy senseless, he had to descend the mountain, only to climb it againter. It was tiresome.


    "Ahem..." Aemon gasped for air, struggling to his feet as the Bloodrider��s figure disappeared into the distance. His chest felt tight, his heart racing from theck of oxygen. He was close to copse��ssic signs of near-cardiac arrest. He had almost died.


    "Damned Dothraki. Damned Bloodrider," he cursed through gritted teeth, pounding the grass in frustration. Training was always an excuse to beat him senseless. Aemon knew they weren��t even in the same league. What use were the Dothraki��s legendary skills when their strength was so wildly unmatched?


    <em>Clop, clop, clop...</em>


    The sound of soft hooves approached from behind. Aemon��s violet eyes shed with caution as he quickly turned.


    "I brought you a gift."


    Leah smiled as she rode closer, her long legs straddling a white horse with a silky mane. In her hand, she held the reins of a bay stallion, just as tall and strong.


    "For me?" Aemon hesitated, ncing at the red horse, which stood tall and proud��far more imposing than he had expected.


    "Yes, as a reward for your training," Leah replied. She dismounted gracefully and handed him the reins of the bay horse. Her tone grew serious as she added, "In the Dothraki world, no one is truly Dothraki without a horse. Both men and women must ride, or else they are nothing more than ves."


    And ves, she reminded him with a solemn look, were unworthy of respect.


    ��Thank you,�� Aemon murmured, his emotions conflicted as he gently stroked the bay horse��s sleek fur.


    ��Whoa, whoa...�� The horse was restless, its front hooves tapping nervously, ready tosh out.


    Aemon remained calm, his fingers lightly scratching the horse��s chin. His voice softened, turning soothing and steady. ��Easy now, good boy... no need to worry.��


    The bay horse seemed to sense his calm, gradually settling down, its resistance fading. It stood still in the grass, allowing the strange silver-haired boy to touch it freely.


    ��You��re amazing,�� Leah said, her voice full of admiration. She knew this horse��it was one of the most headstrong in the stables, a young stallion she had chosen on purpose to test him.


    Aemon said nothing, adjusting the saddle and stirrups with practiced hands before swinging onto the horse��s back with one smooth motion. The bay horse didn��t fight or fidget but moved slowly, obediently carrying its rider.


    Aemon��s silence deepened as he guided the horse. After spending half a year wandering with the Dothraki, he had learned their ways��herding, drying hides, and, of course, caring for horses. Riding a horse, he mused, was far easier than riding a dragon.


    ��Shall we go for a ride?�� Leah��s eyes lit up as she mounted her little white mare, her excitement palpable.


    ��Sure,�� Aemon replied, patting the horse��s neck. Then, almost under his breath, he muttered, ��Let��s go... Trickster.��


    The word slipped out unexpectedly, and a wave of loneliness washed over him, cutting the moment short.


    ��What��s wrong?�� Leah asked, catching the word ��<em>Trickster</em>�� but not understanding its meaning. Dothraki didn��t care much for lies or deception.


    ��Nothing,�� Aemon muttered, his fingers tightening around the reins. After a pause, he spoke more quietly. ��Let��s name the horse.��


    It felt like a small beginning, something new. A name for a new life. A way to distance himself from the shadows of his past. Yet no new name or life could erase the memories that haunted him��each vivid detail of the ident, etched permanently in his mind. His photographic memory meant he could never forget a single moment of that night.


    The terrifying image of the pale dragon��s jaws, the dismembered green dragon��s body, the suffocating saltwater filling his nose and mouth... those memories dragged him from sleep, haunting him relentlessly.


    ��What namees to mind?�� Leah��s sweet voice broke through his dark thoughts, pulling him back to the present.


    Aemon blinked, momentarily frozen, and looked around��the vast green sea of grass stretched endlessly in every direction, the sky above still so familiar. Yet the sight of all that green twisted something inside him. He had once loved the color, but now it only reminded him of what he had lost.


    "Let me think," Aemon said, his gaze drifting to the clear blue sky. His heart still ached for the freedom and pride he once had, soaring high above the world as a dragonrider. Now, he had fallen��deep into the mud��reduced to a captive of the Dothraki. That crushing sense of loss always clung to him, binding his fragile spirit.


    The sky was cloudless, but faint stars were just visible, twinkling faintly in the daylight. Aemon, having studied astronomy under Grand Maester Munkun, found sce in observing the constetions. His knowledge of the stars, a skill that seemed almost useless here, still provided him with a sense of purpose.


    "Look, that��s the bear constetion," Aemon said, a flicker of excitement in his voice as he pointed upward.


    Leah, squinting at the sky, looked puzzled. "Stars?" she asked, her voice doubtful. "We Dothraki look to the sun and the moon, not to stars. Can a bear really be up there?"


    "It looks like a big bear," Aemon exined patiently, rubbing the long ears of his bay horse. "There��s also another group called Ursa Minor. From now on, let��s name him Ursa��to represent the stars and strength."


    A moment of mncholy passed through Aemon��s eyes. The Ursa Major constetion, the great bear, reminded him of home, of a mother figure watching over him. He, like Ursa Minor, felt small, hidden in the daytime, and adrift in a distant world.


    Leah, perceptive as ever, narrowed her eyes. "You''re homesick again, aren��t you?" she said, her voice gentle yet direct. "Otherwise, why name it Ursa and talk about Ursa Minor?"


    Aemon nced at her, his expression tightening with difort. How was she so good at reading him? But there was no point in yearning for home��he couldn''t go back. Even if he could, the memories that awaited him there were too painful to relive. His dragon was gone, and he had fallen into this miserable situation. In the eyes of the world, he was already considered dead. Returning would only mean living in a prison of grief.


    "You can��t go back," Leah added softly, her tone slightly disappointed. "Father won��t let you." She quickly brightened. "But he��ll be back soon, and he��ll bring you something from the outside world��something to cheer you up."


    Suddenly, a rumble echoed in the distance, like the pounding of drums. The ground trembled beneath them, and Aemon and Leah turned their heads toward the sound.


    At the foot of the Mother of Mountains, a massive Dothraki cavalry force��thousands of riders��galloped toward them, kicking up a cloud of dust that darkened the sky.


    "Whoa, whoa..."


    The front rider, The Khal, reined in his ck stallion just in front of the mountain''s entrance. The entire Dothraki horde came to a halt behind him, their scimitars and longbows put away as they followed their Khal.


    "Move faster, you lowly Lamb Men!"


    The crack of whips followed, the sound sharp in the air as the Dothrakished at the backs of their ves. Bound together with thick hemp ropes, the ves��strong and healthy��moved in terrified silence, their heads bowed.


    "The ves from ver��s Bay are the best," Khal Orka boasted, clearly proud of histest haul. "Stronger and more useful than any others."


    These were young ves, taken from viges during raids. The old and weak had been traded away, while the strong and able-bodied were kept��skilled in building, smithing, and sustaining the tribe.


    "I��m going to pick a ve girl for myself!" Leah eximed excitedly, grabbing Aemon��s arm and pulling him toward the line of captives.


    Aemon nced coldly at the scene, his interest nonexistent. The sight of the ves��broken, fearful��left him indifferent.


    Who wasn��t a ve here already? he thought darkly, resigned to the truth that they were all prisoners in their own way.


    ...


    As night fell, the sky above Vaes Dothrak glittered with stars. The Dothraki campfires flickered across the Mother of Mountains, casting shadows as warriors celebrated, brandishing their weapons and dancing in wild revelry.


    In a quiet corner, far from the chaos, Aemon stood in the stable, brushing his bay horse. The animal nudged him affectionately with its long tongue.


    ��Behave, Ursa,�� Aemon muttered, pushing the horse��s head away gently, though his mood remained somber. He felt out of ce among the Dothraki, their brutal ways alien to him.


    His thoughts drifted back to Vntis, where his Third Brother Maekar ruled. ves were plentiful there too, but at least they were fed and treated with a semnce of care. Here, among the Dothraki, ves were nothing��beaten, broken, and discarded. There was nothing Aemon could do to change that, and worse, he was reliant on the protection of a young girl for survival.


    Suddenly, an unsettling feeling washed over him. The hair on Aemon��s arms stood on end. He felt the weight of unseen eyes upon him. Silently, he lowered his head, ncing around with caution.


    Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a skinny female ve tied to a haystack nearby. Her dark skin and cowering posture made her look like someone from the Summer Isles, neck bent in submission.


    ��No... it��s not her,�� Aemon whispered, eyes narrowing. He scanned his surroundings again. His father had always said that Aemon possessed a natural intuition��a heightened spirit that allowed him to sense things others couldn��t. Someone was watching him. He was certain of it.


    After a careful sweep of the stable, he saw no one else��no movement except for the mes flickering in the distance. But his gaze returned to the thin girl by the haystack. She was pale-skinned, with a t, round face.


    A sudden realization hit him. ��Lamb Men?�� he muttered, his eyes widening. The girl wasn��t from the Summer Isles at all. She was one of the Lhazareen, a tribe devastated by the Dothraki. How had he not noticed?


    Aemon spun around sharply, his hand instinctively reaching for the dragon pendant��Meraxes��hanging from his neck.


    <em>Pop...</em>


    A slow p echoed through the air. Emerging from the shadows was a masked woman, standing by the haystack, her hands softly apuding. She wore a golden bandeau and a short skirt, her shaved head gleaming under the firelight. Her veil, made of fine gold chains, revealed a pair of sharp, intelligent eyes.


    ��Who are you, and what do you want with me?�� Aemon asked, his voice firm as he took a cautious step back, his gaze never leaving her. He could tell immediately��she was a witch, or worse, a sorceress capable of illusions and deceptions. She was dangerous.


    ��My boy,�� the woman purred, her voice smooth and maic, as if crafted to lure. ��You are as vignt as your father.�� She approached with the poise of a noblewoman, her hands resting confidently on her hips.


    Aemon��s eyes shed with suspicion. ��You knew my father?�� He stepped back again as she moved closer, wary of the danger she might pose. His father had always despised witches, especially those who came unbidden. The fact that this one still lived after crossing paths with his father meant she was no ordinary sorceress.


    ��Don��t be so wary,�� the woman said, her gaze sweeping over his young, familiar face with amusement. ��I know what you��re thinking,�� she continued, her voice honeyed with seduction. ��And I also know where to find a red dragon.��


    Aemon��s heart skipped a beat. Her words were like a knife, cutting through the air between them. Quaithe��this mysterious woman��knew more than she was letting on, and her mention of a red dragon sent Aemon��s mind racing.

 Chapter 672: The Deal with the Lord of Light

    Chapter 672: The Deal with the Lord of Light


    Upon hearing the words "red dragon," Aemon��s pupils contracted sharply. He had never imagined anyone else was after it.


    "Don��t be surprised. I know everything," Quaithe said calmly, her eyes deep and unreadable, like dark pools that hid ancient secrets.


    Aemon instinctively gripped the dragon pendant around his neck, trying to steady his nerves. "Are you the second group, or the third?" he asked, his voice tense. How many were hunting the red dragon in the Great Grass Sea? He didn��t know, but his sense of duty wouldn��t allow anyone to defile the dragon.


    Quaithe tilted her head slightly, her expression almost yful. "How do you know <em>you��re</em> not the third?" she replied, her toneced with mystery.


    Aemon��s heart sank. Her words confirmed his worst fear��there were already two groups who had discovered the red dragon before him. Worse still, it was possible that they had seeded.


    "Do you intend to tame the vicious red dragon?" Quaithe asked, raising a pale hand and giving a gentle wave, as if summoning something unseen.


    Aemon stopped retreating, his body tense with suspicion. "Do you have a way for me to tame it?" he asked cautiously.


    Quaithe��s eyes gleamed with a hint of regret. "Suffering has not erased your innocent heart," she said softly, her voice almost maternal. "But to gain the dragon, you will pay a price. And right now, your freedom is all you have left."


    Aemon swallowed, a chill creeping up his spine. "Do you want my body or my soul?" His voice trembled, the words scraping out of his throat like nails on ss. Everything about Quaithe felt dangerous, like she was a demon, ready to take whatever she wanted. In just a few words, she had peeled back theyers of his heart, weighing its worth."You misunderstand," Quaithe replied, the corners of her mouth curling into a smile beneath her golden veil. Her voice dropped, deep and resonant. "It is not what <em>I</em> want. It��s what you are willing to give that determines what you��ll receive."


    Aemon frowned, his skepticism deepening. "But there��s still a price, isn��t there?"


    "The world is fair," Quaithe said, her tone shifting to one of quiet admiration. "Everythinges at an equal cost." Her gaze sharpened, her words dripping with prophecy. "Lose one dragon, gain another."


    Aemon��s heart clenched as the weight of her words settled over him. He whispered, almost to himself, "I��ve already lost a dragon."


    The Trickster had died, shielding him.


    Quaithe��s eyes sparkled, and she stared at him intently, as if reading the depths of his soul. Their gazes locked��his violet eyes meeting hers, like two amethysts reflecting each other from the bottom of an abyss.


    Suddenly, Aemon was pulled into a vision.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    A young, dark green dragon soared through the air, its long, thin, scorpion-like tail flicking as it sliced through the hazy clouds. But beneath it, a blood-red mouth, sharp and pale as marble, snapped up from the sea. The monstrous jaws mped down with terrifying force, tearing into the young dragon��s flesh. Blood sprayed into the sky, and the young dragon screamed in agony, its body writhing in the creature��s maw.


    Aemon felt the pain as if it were his own. He saw the dragon��s vertical pupils��so sad, so full of regret��turn back to him onest time before they closed forever. The dragon fell, its lifeless body plunging into the cold sea.


    <em>Plop!</em>


    The dragon��s head sank below the waves, along with the silver-haired rider, as an eerie red glow enveloped one of them. One perished, the other survived.


    "You were meant to die. But the Lord of Light spared you."


    Quaithe��s maic voice snapped Aemon out of the vision, bringing him back to reality. She had stepped closer��too close. Only two feet separated them now.


    Startled, Aemon tried to retreat, but��


    <em>Snap!</em>


    The chain around his neck broke. The Valyrian steel dragon pendant fell to the ground with a soft <em>clink</em>.


    ��Look, a rare and precious treasure,�� Quaithe murmured, studying the runic symbols etched into the pendant with keen interest. She rubbed her hands together slowly.


    With a soft hum, the pendant began to glow faintly. In the next instant, a Valyrian steel sword materialized out of thin air, as ck as the deepest night. The slender de shimmered, its dark surface speckled with silver, like stars against a midnight sky. At the end of the hilt was arge, octagonal ruby that gleamed blood-red.


    ��That��s mine,�� Aemon said, his voice trembling with panic as he stepped forward, instinctively reaching to reim the sword.


    But before he could even blink, Quaithe vanished.


    Aemon��s eyes widened in disbelief, his heart pounding in his chest.


    ��It is a powerful weapon, but it does not belong entirely to you,�� Quaithe��s maic voice floated through the air, her figure now reappearing near the stable��s water trough. A basilisk briefly shimmered beside her before vanishing just as quickly.


    ��Let go of the sword. It was given to me by my mother,�� Aemon said desperately, his hand outstretched toward the sword. He barely finished speaking before she disappeared again.


    His heart raced, thoughts swirling with confusion. Was this sorcery? Ghosts? He clenched his fists, knowing he had to steel himself against the golden witch.


    ��It doesn��t fully belong to you,�� Quaithe��s voice cut through the night, her figure now back by the haystack. ��Half of it belongs to the Lord of Light.��


    Aemon��s eyes narrowed, his breath unsteady. Had she ever moved at all? Or was everything he had seen an illusion��a trick to manipte him? The pendant��s theft, her sudden reappearances��it was all part of her game.


    ��You have two choices, young man,�� Quaithe said, her voice low but filled with amusement. Shezily twirled the pendant between her fingers as the family sword, <em>Truefyre</em>, remained stuck in the ground, gleaming in the dim light. ��Either I take the ming Heart,�� she continued, her ck-nailed finger hovering over the ruby embedded in the hilt, ��or youplete a task for the Lord of Light.��


    Her finger was poised to pluck the ruby free.


    ��Wait!�� Aemon blurted, his heart sinking. ��How do I trust you?��


    His shock was palpable. <em>Truefyre</em> wasn��t just any sword; it was the most unique of all his family��s weapons. His father had many: <em>Dark Sister</em>, <em>Dragon��s w</em>, even <em>ckfyre</em> itself as a symbol of his authority. But <em>Truefyre</em> held a special ce. The ruby��known as the ming Heart��was no ordinary gem. Aemon��s mother had once told him it was taken from a red priestess in the Rivends, one of the three treasures of the Red Temple, a relic of the Lord of Light.


    More importantly, it had saved his father��s life��<em>and</em> his own��twice.


    ��What do you want in return?�� Aemon asked gravely, already familiar with the weight of such exchanges.


    ��Smart,�� Quaithe replied with a knowing smile. "Let me answer your first question: I can tell you the whereabouts of the red dragon. The real question is��can you earn your own trust?"


    ��Where is the red dragon?�� Aemon��s eyes shed with interest. He didn��t bother with the usual questions like <em>why should I believe you?</em> There was something ominous about her presence, somethingpelling. Quaithe was no ordinary sorceress, and it seemed that, for now, killing her was not an option. A deal had to be struck.


    Quaithe��s smile faded, reced by her usual cold, witch-like demeanor. Her voice turned low and serious. ��The red dragon has been captured by a group of Asshai witches and is being transported to ver��s Bay by a band of Dothraki.��


    ��You want me to stop the Dragonlord of ver��s Bay from taming it?�� Aemon asked, quickly piecing together the clues. His thoughts went immediately to Irina Daeryon, a disgraced noblewoman who had fled King��s Landing. He had once seen her off himself.


    ��No,�� Quaithe replied, her eyes unreadable. ��The Lord of Light merely wants you to find the red dragon. No one else will reach it before you.��


    Aemon, sensing a hidden meaning, furrowed his brow. ��I can��t go to ver��s Bay,�� he countered. ��And I don��t have the coin to hire Dothraki.��


    The faith of the Lord of Light had little sway over Valyrians, and the gods seldom performed miracles for them. Yet, Aemon knew the ming heart pendant had saved him and his father twice. Perhaps the Lord of Light <em>did</em> exist after all.


    ��Don��t worry,�� Quaithe said, a faint flicker of mockery in her tone as she peered from behind her golden veil. ��You��ll have your own reasons to enter ver��s Bay.�� Her words held a sinister edge. ��You lost one dragon... now you��ve gained another.��


    Aemon felt a chill run down his spine. The green dragon��s death had led to the birth of something else��a new beginning. He could only guess what price would need to be paid next.


    ��What does the Lord of Light want me to do?�� Aemon pressed, still unsure of the cost. He had little left to offer. What could the Lord of Light demand from him?


    Quaithe��s expression remained impassive. ��You misunderstand. The Lord of Light asks nothing of you. What you seek is a sign in the mes,�� she said, her voice softening as she took a few slow steps back. ��When you find the red dragon, you will know the Light��s will.��


    ��Wait,�� Aemon called out, desperate for rity.


    <em>Poof!</em>


    The scene before him vanished, and Quaithe��s golden figure began to dissolve into the air, her outline blurring until it disappeared entirely.


    ��Gone again?�� Aemon whispered, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. He looked around��he was alone.


    The family sword, <em>Truefyre</em>, stood nted in the ground, its dark de faintly glowing under the night sky. The dragon pendant hung from the hilt, swinging gently in the cool breeze.


    Had it all been an illusion? The sword, the pendant, the golden witch who spoke of the Lord of Light��it all seemed too surreal.


    "Father really should��ve killed her," Aemon muttered, clutching his chest as fear gnawed at him. The witch''s voice, her ent��it had the tone of someone from the Westends, but her demeanor... that was unmistakably Asshai.


    His photographic memory reyed the details��small clues, hints of High Valyrian��but even with all his knowledge, the truth remained elusive.


    ...


    Half a monthter...


    <em>ver��s Bay, Meereen</em>


    ��Hyah, hyah!��


    A group of Dothraki cavalry thundered into the city, their horses kicking up clouds of dust as they galloped through the narrow streets, still littered with rubble. Themon folk and ves scattered in panic, retreating to their homes and locking their doors, too frightened to venture outside. The only sounds were the relentless pounding of hooves and the crack of whips, shattering the uneasy peace of Meereen.


    <em>Creak...</em>


    While the ridersmanded the city��s attention, two massive carriages rolled in through a side gate, unnoticed by most. The carriages moved slowly, side by side, each carrying an enormous semicircr object draped in thick red curtains. The weight of the load was immense, requiring ten strong mules to haul each carriage. Their iron-rimmed wheels left deep grooves in the red brick streets as they passed.


    ��Careful... don��t startle the beast,�� muttered a bald wizard in a red robe, riding a stout dwarf horse. His eyes flicked nervously to the carriages every few moments, watching them with growing anxiety.


    ��We��ll be safe once we reach the Great Pyramid,�� replied another bald wizard beside him, his face grim. He reached into his robes, pulling out a special incense stick, which he promptly chewed on.


    <em>Puff!</em>


    The incense ignited instantly, releasing a thick, pungent smoke. The wizard jammed the burning incense into holders on the side of the carriage, recing the ones that were nearly spent.


    <em>Roar, roar...</em>


    Suddenly, a heavy, guttural breathing rumbled from beneath the red curtain, like the ominous awakening of a sleeping giant.


    <em>Bang!</em>


    The carriages jolted violently. The red curtain fluttered, lifting just enough to reveal the iron cage concealed beneath. The cage itself was monstrous��jagged, resembling interlocking fangs, its interior cramped and suffocating.


    From within, a long, thick dragon��s tail, dark red and covered in thorn-like dorsal fins, thrashed out from the cage, hanging limply over the back of the carriage. Its scales gleamed with a deep, fiery hue, and the weight of the tail alone made the ground tremble.


    The face of the bald wizard paled. He mumbled an incantation under his breath, his fingers twitching in nervous ritual.


    The Dothraki apanying the procession leaped from their horses, their bodies padded with thick animal skins. Working together, they struggled to shove the dragon��s tail back into the cage, their muscles straining with effort.


    The incense smoke billowed thicker, seeping under the red curtain and filling the confined space. Its effect was immediate. The heavy breathing slowed, then ceased, reced by an eerie silence.


    A tense moment passed before the carriages resumed their slow journey. Eventually, they disappeared into the cer beneath the Great Pyramid, the final resting ce of their vtile cargo.


    ...


    Dusk. The sun set slowly.


    At the cer door of the Great Pyramid, a furious roar echoed through the stone halls.


    <em>��Roar!��</em>


    A st of bright red fire shot into the air, illuminating the entrance in a fiery glow. With a loud rumble, the door swung open, and a silver-haired figure stumbled out, her ck suit scorched and smoldering.


    "Close the door! Don��t provoke it further," Irinamanded, her voice tight with fear as she frantically patted out the mes still clinging to her clothes. Her eyes were wide, heart racing, as the heat from the dragon��s fury lingered in the air.


    ��Yes, my queen,�� a bald sorcerer replied, his tone calm despite the chaos. With a quick nce, he signaled the nearby guards. They moved swiftly, mming the heavy door shut, sealing the dragon��s enraged roars behind thick stone walls.


    <em>nk... nk...</em>


    The sound of heavy chains rattled faintly from the other side, barely audible through the thick stone. The sorcerer��s cold eyes narrowed slightly as he listened, picking up a sound that ordinary ears could not��flesh being torn, bones crushed under powerful jaws. The beast was feeding.


    Sharp fangs ripped through the meat, crushing hard bones, devouring its meal bit by bit.


    ��I��ll try againter,�� Irina muttered, still visibly shaken. She hurried away from the cer, her steps quick and uneven, eager to distance herself from the dragon��s wrath.


    The bald wizard nodded in silence, trailing behind her with measured steps. His gaze remained cold and calcting as he followed the queen��s retreat.


    The guards stood in uneasy silence, heads bowed, eyes averted, afraid to meet anyone��s gaze. None dared to speak of the red-robed priest who had apanied the queen into the cer��he had note out.

 Chapter 673: Blackfyre Slashes Through the White Walker

    Chapter 673: ckfyre shes Through the White Walker


    The Wall loomed ahead, and the Haunted Forest stretched out like a dark, silent sea. A heavy snowfall nketed thend, covering the forest''s floor in thickyers of white.


    With a low rumble, a massive beast trudged forward, its heavy footsteps shaking the earth and dislodging snow from the tree canopies. Rhaegar, draped in a ck robe, rode atop the mammoth, its long, shaggy fur swaying as they crossed a frozen riverbank. Every so often, a gust of wind swept by, and the snowkes felt like needles piercing his skin.


    ��We should ride a dragon,�� came a soft, hesitant voice.


    The Child of the Forest peeked out from its basket, hidden beside the mammoth. Itsrge green eyes blinked against the cold.


    Rhaegar kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead, replying cautiously, ��Dragons attract the White Walkers. We need to avoid drawing any attention.��


    He spoke with measured calm, but his eyes flicked upwards, hidden beneath a ck ribbon tied across his face, adding an air of mystery to his stern features. Even the heavy clouds above seemed dull through the dark cloth.


    The Child of the Forest whispered urgently, ��There are many Heart Trees beyond the Wall, but the true one lies further still.��


    Its voice trembled with concern, driven by the need to find the heart tree, reunite with its people, and deliver Rhaegar to the Greenseer. There was something deeply troubling about the resurgence of the White Walkers. By the calctions of countless Greenseers, their resurrection was still supposed to be centuries away.


    But then, twenty years ago, a redet had altered the magical tides, awakening the Others from beneath the frozen soil. Cold and darkness spread across thend, yet the prophesied Prince, the one born of ice and fire, had not appeared. In the Child��s mind, the only human worth trusting now was the man before it��the King whomanded dragons.But dragons were blood and fire. ''Will they even help?'' it wondered.


    Crack, crack!


    The mammoth��s enormous hooves stomped across the ice-covered river, splintering the frozen surface as it barreled toward the Fist of the First Men.


    ��Easy, big fe,�� Rhaegar murmured, his voice soothing as he tightened his grip on the reins.


    Suddenly, a rustling sound broke the quiet. The birds in the forest ceased their flight, and an eerie silence descended, thick and heavy like a shroud. Then, a sharp, resounding noise split the air. The mammoth snorted, taking a few uneasy steps backward. Fear flickered in its eyes, an ancient, primal dread.


    Rhaegar��s heart raced. He strained to listen, feeling the tension in his chest rise.


    ��Go!��


    The Child of the Forest leaped from the basket, shrieking as it pushed against the mammoth��s head. Startled, the beast roared and turned to flee.


    Whoosh!


    In an instant, a volley of bone arrows whistled through the air, striking the mammoth��s thick hide. The arrows pierced deep, embedding themselves in its flesh. With a bellow of agony, the mammoth copsed to the ground, its body shaking the earth.


    Rhaegar quickly rolled off its back, grabbing the Child of the Forest and tumbling into the snow.


    ��The White Walkers are here!�� the Child cried, its voice sharp with fear.


    Rhaegar��s ears rang from the shout, but he swiftly rose, drawing ckfyre from his belt. The ancient Valyrian steel gleamed in the dim light.


    And then, the forest stirred. The snow crunched beneath unseen feet, and the ground quaked with the tremors of approaching danger.


    ��Roar����


    Dozens of pale-faced figures burst from the snow, their hoarse cries echoing through the forest as they charged forward. Their bodies were twisted at the joints, skeletal and covered in stretched, frostbitten skin��resembling nothing more than walking corpses frozen in time.


    Rhaegar��s pupils contracted, and a cold sweat began to gather in his palms. This was his first time facing the dead, and he felt a wave of unease wash over him. For a brief moment, he hesitated.


    Before he could fully react, even more of the dead emerged from the shadows of the forest, as if they had stumbled into the heart of theirir.


    ��Hurry! We can��t beat them!�� the Child of the Forest cried out, panic clear in its voice. It fumbled frantically in its torn pockets, searching for something.


    There was an entire army of the dead before them��how could two beings hope to stand against such a force?


    Pop!


    Without a word, Rhaegar swung ckfyre, severing the head of a nearby corpse. The moment the de struck, something miraculous urred: the dead man stiffened, its decapitated body copsing to the ground, unmoving.


    It was an eerie sight, and yet, in this strange reality, it seemed almost natural. The lifeless corpse was soon trampled into the snow by the relentless march of the other undead.


    ��Roar����


    More of the dead lunged toward them, their faces twisted in grotesque grimaces, mouths wide open in silent, eternal screams. Rhaegar, realizing something, moved swiftly. With a powerful sweep of ckfyre, he sliced through the air in a wide arc, decapitating several of the dead in one stroke.


    Pop!


    mes flickered along the edge of ckfyre, hovering just above Rhaegar��s hand as he brought the sword back into position. His eyes flicked to the glowing de, and the corner of his mouth curled in satisfaction. The Child of the Forest had been right��ckfyre could kill the dead.


    Or was it...?


    ��It��s the Valyrian steel,�� Rhaegar thought, the realization hitting him like a bolt of lightning. That was the key.


    ��There are too many of them. We need to find shelter,�� the Child of the Forest said anxiously, pulling out two small ss bottles from its pockets. With a quick flick of its wrist, it hurled them toward the approaching horde.


    Boom!


    Boom!


    The bottles exploded on impact, erupting into a brilliant ze of green wildfire. The mes spread rapidly, engulfing the nearby undead in a raging inferno. For a moment, the advancing dead faltered as the wildfire scorched their ranks, reducing them to ash.


    ��Wait��protect yourself,�� Rhaegar warned, his expression grim as he shed through the weaker dead, all while keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.


    This wasn��t just a routine encounter. He had ventured beyond the Wall to witness the White Walkers with his own eyes. And where there was an army of the dead, the White Walkers were never far behind, controlling them from the shadows.


    Yet something else gnawed at the back of his mind. Robb and the others still hadn��t located the Heart Tree or the Greenseer, as the Child of the Forest had spoken of.


    ��Roar����


    The dead continued to gather in ever-greater numbers, surrounding them on all sides and cutting off any chance of escape. It was clear now��they were not mindless. Their movements were deliberate, coordinated, as if they were trapping their prey.


    ��They''re no fools, after all,�� Rhaegar muttered, pressing his back against the mammoth, which had risen shakily to its feet. Before him, three wights brandished rusted swords, their hollow eyes locked on him.


    ��Whoa, whoa����


    A sudden, hoarse neigh echoed from the dark recesses of the forest. Rhaegar��s heart sank, and his gaze snapped toward the sound.


    Trot, trot, trot��


    From the shadows emerged a decaying warhorse, its skeletal body swaying with each unsteady step. Its neck was half-exposed, the pale bones gleaming against the dirty snow. Atop the beast sat a figure��a pale, ghastly creature with the face of death itself. It held an ice-crystal spear, its blue eyes glowing like cold stars.


    The creature turned its head slightly, meeting Rhaegar��s gaze with an emotionless stare.


    ��A White Walker,�� the Child of the Forest whispered, her small body tensing as she fumbled in her ragged pockets. The ss bottles she pulled out were meager, inferior substitutes for the pumpkin bombs she had lost.


    Rhaegar grinned, his eyes glinting with anticipation. ��Haha, finally showing yourself.�� He spun ckfyre in a casual arc, the de whistling through the air as he kicked aside a skeleton that lunged at him. His body surged forward, powerful and unyielding.


    The true nature of the dragonborn awakened within him, and mes flickered along the edge of ckfyre. This was the moment he had been waiting for. The White Walker had finally revealed itself.


    Thud!


    The wightmander��s expressionless face twitched as it tugged on the reins. The rotting warhorse leaped high, its hooves crashing down with the force of a drumbeat. The ground trembled beneath it as the undead army roared in response, instinctively parting to make way.


    Rhaegar observed this without surprise. The scene before him was eerily simr to the visions he had seen in his dreams��an army of the dead, all controlled by this cold, emotionless creature.


    ��Hissahhh����


    For the first time, the White Walker made a sound. It was thick and low, a chilling noise that sent shivers down the spine. The dead swayed at the sound, tightening their ranks as they began to encircle the Child of the Forest and the mammoth.


    It was a clear message. The White Walker wanted a one-on-one fight, but it also intended to clear the field of any distractions.


    Terrified, the Child of the Forest scrambled up the mammoth��s back, using its trunk as leverage, her wide green eyes flickering between the encroaching dead and Rhaegar. She kept a fierce watch on the army surrounding them, her heart pounding.


    Rhaegar, however, paid no attention to what was happening behind him. His focus was locked on the White Walker. Step by step, he advanced toward it, his grip tightening on ckfyre.


    Boom! Boom!


    ss bottles shattered behind him, the wildfire exploding and consuming swaths of the dead. But the army was relentless, pushing through the green mes without a shred of pain or fear. Their rotting faces twisted into even more grotesque forms as the fire licked at their decayed flesh.


    The Child of the Forest��s panic grew. Her gaze kept darting toward Rhaegar, uncertainty gnawing at her. Could he defeat the White Walker? She didn��t know. What she did know, however, was that the dead would tear her apart if he failed.


    Boom!


    Suddenly, a powerful gust of wind swept through the clearing, whipping the snow into spirals. Above them, the dark clouds churned and rolled, crashing into one another like storming waves. For a brief moment, a dark shape could be seen, faintly outlined in the weakest part of the cloud cover.


    ��Roar����


    A dragon��s roar, as deep and thunderous as muffled drums, echoed across the battlefield. The dark clouds in the sky trembled in response, rippling as if alive. The White Walker slowly tilted its head, a flicker of surprise crossing its ice-blue eyes.


    Boom!


    A jet-ck dragon burst through the clouds, its immense, hideous head like a dark iron gate swinging open. Its jaws parted, releasing a pungent wave of ash that filled the air. From its maw spewed an eerie, viscous green dragonfire, glowing unnaturally in the gloom.


    ttering.


    The dragonfire rained down in torrents, sweeping across the battlefield like a pir of molten fury. Wherever itnded, the army of the dead was hammered by a tremendous force, their brittle bodies shattering upon impact.


    ��Roar����


    The Cannibal, infamous for its viciousness, let out a guttural bellow as it dove from the sky. Dragonfire spewed forth again, dividing the battlefield into ming sections. The undead army stood no chance��under the dark green mes, they were rendered inert, their broken forms turning to ash, no longer able to rise.


    ��Your turn, ugly white thing,�� Rhaegar taunted softly, pointing ckfyre at the White Walker.


    He had done it��lured the White Walker out of hiding. Now, it was time to fight.


    Bang!


    Provoked by Rhaegar��s words, the White Walker leapt gracefully from its decaying horse. Towering and menacing, it exuded a cold, oppressive aura.


    ��Hissah!��


    The White Walker snarled in fury, its ice spear gleaming as it charged forward, its movements fueled by indignation at being toyed with by a mere human. It struck first, swinging the spear with deadly precision toward Rhaegar��s head.


    ng!


    Rhaegar parried the blow with ckfyre, the sh of Valyrian steel against enchanted ice ringing through the air. The force of the impact buckled Rhaegar��s knees, nearly knocking him off bnce. He gritted his teeth as sweat beaded on his brow.


    ''The strength of the dead... it''s immense,'' he thought, eyes narrowing in surprise.


    With a swift motion, Rhaegar countered, swinging ckfyre in a wide arc aimed at the wight��s torso. The White Walker dodged with inhuman agility, deflecting the strike with its ice spear, sending shards of ice scattering through the air.


    Bothbatants paused, evaluating each other. Rhaegar twisted his wrist, wincing at the red, swelling bruise. His opponent''s raw power was staggering,parable to a giant, towering seven or eight meters tall.


    The White Walker, its icy features expressionless, ran a pale hand along the length of its spear. Its eyes, glowing like frozen stars, narrowed in concentration. The spear in its hand was a gift from the cold gods, crafted to shatter ordinary weapons with ease. Yet ckfyre had withstood the assault, unscathed by the ice��s touch.


    The wight��s sluggish mind slowly pieced together the truth: Rhaegar��s weapon was enchanted.


    Swish!


    A blur of ck steel sliced through the air, aimed straight at the White Walker��s head. Rhaegar��s grin was merciless, his attack swift and deadly.


    ng!


    The White Walker barely managed to block the strike, retreating swiftly with long, nimble strides. The force of the blow reverberated through its arms, and for the first time, a sliver of emotion crossed its cold eyes��shock.


    Rhaegar pressed forward, relentless. His eyes gleamed with a predatory focus, the subtle smile still lingering on his lips. In just two exchanges, he had discerned his opponent''s strengths. The White Walker possessed terrifying power and supernatural reflexes��qualities that could overwhelm most elite knights. But strength alone was not enough.


    Beneath that formidable, pale exterior, the White Walker��sbat skills were crude, almost clumsy.


    The wight swung its spear again, its ice-blue eyes betraying its growing frustration. Each strike was fast, but predictable. Rhaegar moved effortlessly, dodging and countering with precision.


    ng!


    With a graceful twist of his wrist, Rhaegar brought ckfyre down with precision. The Valyrian steel sliced through the ice-crystal spear, leaving a jagged dent along its length.


    The White Walker staggered back, eyes wide with shock. Every blow Rhaegar delivered carried immense power, cutting through the cold wind and sending tremors up the wight��s arm.


    But Rhaegar did not falter. His every movement was calcted, and he had already learned his opponent��s weakness: brute strength was useless without the skill to wield it effectively.


    The White Walker retreated, struggling to regain control. It watched Rhaegar with newfound wariness, its ice-blue eyes now filled with something unexpected��fear.


    ��You��ve lost, ugly thing,�� Rhaegar sneered, stepping closer.


    ckfyre nged against the ice-crystal spear, the Valyrian steel sliding down its frosted shaft before cutting into the pale, dead hand of the wight. The creature had no time to react��its sluggish mind too slow to dodge. With a hollow tter, the spear dropped from its grip.


    Instinctively, the wight retaliated, thrusting itsrge foot forward in a desperate attempt to strike. But Rhaegar didn��t flinch or parry. Instead, he angled ckfyre down, its tip ready to meet the attack.


    The White Walker froze. In a moment of panic, it jerked its foot back, stumbling awkwardly and losing bnce. In just a few seconds, its fatal weakness was exposed.


    ��You��re afraid of Valyrian steel, aren��t you?�� Rhaegar��s eyes gleamed with the realization. He hadn��t expected such a discovery.


    Swish!


    ckfyre arced through the air, aiming directly for the wight��s neck, its pale skin folded and taut. The wight��s ice-blue eyes widened in fear as it lifted its hand in a futile attempt to block the blow.


    Puff.


    The de sliced cleanly through the wight��s hand, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The creature��s mouth opened wide, but no sound escaped. It crumbled silently, its body disintegrating like foam, turning to pale dust that scattered in the cold wind.


    Rhaegar stood frozen, watching the remnants of the White Walker drift away. It took him a moment to grasp the enormity of what had just happened.


    ttering��


    At the same time, the army of the dead faltered. Thousands of skeletal soldiers copsed, their bodies turning to powder and dispersing into the air, carried away by the wind like ash.


    ��Roar����


    Above, the Cannibal circled, its eerie green eyes shing with suspicion. The dragon tentativelynded, its hind legs scratching at the ghostly green dragonfire still smoldering on the snow. The dead, once wrapped in me, had long since crumbled, leaving behind nothing but the acrid stench of burning.


    ��We��ve won!�� The Child of the Forest��s voice rang out, filled with joy. It hurried over to Rhaegar, eyes wide with excitement. ��The White Walkers can be killed! When they die, their army of the dead dies with them!��


    Rhaegar allowed himself a smile as he sheathed ckfyre. ��The White Walkers are this fragile?�� he thought. <em>Like paper tigers, useless against Valyrian steel.</em>


    ��No wonder Valyrian steel is worth its weight in gold,�� he muttered, patting ckfyre at his waist. His gaze shifted to the Cannibal, now sniffing around cautiously. House Targaryen still had several Valyrian steel swords in its possession. And with the dragonss weapons forged from the mines beneath Dragonstone, the threat of the White Walkers seemed less daunting.


    ��Not as powerful as I thought�� more like a curse,�� Rhaegar mused.


    ��Where are we going now?�� the Child of the Forest asked, stumbling to keep up with him, its voice enthusiastic. ��We should go to the Greenseer and ask how to fight the White Walkers.��


    Its race, after all, lived near the Heart Tree, and relocating the entire group might be necessary.


    ��No rush. There��s someone else we need to find first,�� Rhaegar replied, ignoring the question as he deftly mounted the dragon��s back. The sight of the White Walker��s weakness had filled him with renewed confidence in the war between the living and the dead.


    The Child of the Forest��s words, along with the cryptic messages of the witch Quaithe, had left Rhaegar with more questions than answers. If the Greenseer was truly wise, he woulde to Rhaegar, not the other way around. Besides, the Shadow Lands of Asshai were full of witches and dark magic. Who knew if any real power there could defeat the White Walkers or even kill the Night King?


    ��Roar����


    The Cannibal stretched its massive wings, shaking off the remnants of the battlefield. Its head turned toward the towering mountains in the north.


    The Fist of the First Men��where Robb and the others might be hiding.


    ...


    ��Hurry up, my little crows,�� a wildling hissed, urging the captives forward.


    At the Fist of the First Men, a ragged line of wildlings climbed steadily, leading a group of prisoners, all bound and d in armor. Robb, his arms tightly bound with rope, struggled against his restraints, his voice filled with urgency.


    ��Let us go! The White Walkers are real��they��re here!�� he pleaded, anxiety clear in his tone.


    A red-nosed wildling with a toothy grin pped Robb��s side with a filthy hand, the stench of sweat and dirt clinging to him. ��Oh, we know the White Walkers exist, crow,�� he sneered. ��But we��re not letting you go that easily.�� The wildling��s grin widened. Capturing a few "crows" wasn��t easy, and they were valuable as hostages.


    Robb winced and dodged the wildling��s filthy touch. ��Where are you taking us? You should head to the Wall,�� he urged. ��The king and my father��has convinced the North to let the free folk through. We can fight the White Walkers together!��


    ��No chance,�� came the cold, gravelly voice of the leader��a giant of a man with a face like stone. He looked down at Robb with disdain. ��The free folk don��t trust anyone.��


    His eyes gleamed with a hard, unshakable confidence. ��Once we find the Horn of Winter and awaken the sleeping giants beneath the earth, that Wall won��t be able to stop us.��


    ��Yeah, yeah���� The wildlings around them echoed the sentiment, their faces alight with hope at the mention of the Horn of Winter. To them, it was more than a myth��it was the key to taking back the North, to finally reiming everything their ancestors had lost. Once the horn was blown, the Wall would crumble, and the free folk would rule the North.


    Robb frowned in confusion. The Horn of Winter? Sleeping giants beneath the ground? He knew nothing of these legends, but the wildlings believed in them with fervor. Hispanions had already been separated from him, absorbed into the wildling tribe, their fates uncertain.


    And now, they were all being dragged to the Fist of the First Men, in search of this legendary horn.

 Chapter 674: The Real Horn!

    Chapter 674: The Real Horn!


    The wildlings continued their climb up the mountain, turning their backs on the captive "crow". Robb buried his head, his fingers secretly slipping into his cloak to pull out a few dragonss arrows. He would throw one away after every stretch of the journey��a quiet ritual of psychologicalfort.


    ...


    The Wall, Castle ck.


    Cregan Stark gathered his advisers in the silent hall. The air was thick with tension. The big man from House Umber, unable to bear the silence, muttered, "The king has been gone for half a month. Shouldn''t we be preparing?"


    His words were immediately hushed. The cold beyond the Wall was unbearable now, and the threats of rebellious wildlings and the unpredictable White Walkers loomed. The king had taken a grave risk by venturing beyond.


    "I was right. We can''t just sit here and do nothing," the Umber man continued, raising his voice, his tone brimming with Northern grit. "What��s the point of huddling in this drafty hall? We might as well kill the wildlings already inside the Wall and rally every man of the North to defend it."


    Knock, knock.


    A dull thudding sound silenced the growing murmur. All eyes turned to Cregan, who leaned forward with a serious expression. "The King has a dragon by his side," he reminded them, his voice low butmanding. "That��s why we must focus on the task at hand even more."


    "My lord, saving those savages is not a task," the Umber man was quick to object, his face contorted with anger."Yes, the savages should never have crossed the Wall."


    "The King let those savages in��who will manage those sons of bitches?"


    The room erupted as a dozen nobles stood, their objections ringing out in unison. Among them, Cregan noted the men bearing the sigils of House Bolton��the "Upside-Down yed Man"��and House Manderly of White Harbor, marked by the "Male Merman Holding a Trident."


    As one of the most powerful and ancient houses of the North, House Stark held sway over many ancient vassals, but the Bolton and Manderly lords had influence over much of the poption and controlled the only major northern port.


    Bang!


    The table shook violently as Roderick Dustin mmed his fist down, causing the wine jugs to rattle. He sprang to his feet, shouting, "Sit down and listen to the Lord!"


    The old man was tall and fierce, his fury palpable. Silence fell swiftly over the hall. The lords who had opposed allowing the wildlings past the Wall exchanged frustrated nces but sat back down reluctantly. Roderick''s reputation and the ferocity of the Army of the Winter Wolves kept them in check, despite their simmering anger.


    The other northern nobles watched with varying expressions. The representatives of House Karstark, House Mormont of Bear Ind, and other senior houses��those loyal to House Stark��fixed their eyes on the young Lord. As the purest descendants of the First Men, they had centuries of blood feud with the wildlings. They wouldn��t dare directly oppose the King��smand, but Cregan knew they expected an exnation.


    After all, House Stark did not have a dragon.


    "My lords, I have only one question: Who is your Lord?"


    Cregan Stark slowly rose to his feet, unsheathing the massive sword strapped to his back. He ced it heavily on the table with a cold finality. Silence fell over the room.


    Looking down at his advisers, his expression hardened. "The North belongs to the people of the North. If even we doubt the defense of our homnd, who will protect our families, our women, and our children?"


    His voice dropped as he invoked the words of his house. "Winter ising." He paused, letting the weight of the words sink in. "The White Walkers are here, and the entire North is in peril. The wildlings are an essential part of the fight against the Others��they cannot be abandoned."


    BANG!


    Roderick Dustin mmed his fist on the table, his voice booming with fervor. "My Lord, I, an old man, stand with you. I��ll crush the testicles of anyone who dares oppose you!" He red fiercely at the room, his eyes daring anyone to challenge him.


    "Who else objects to the wildlings entering the Wall?" Cregan asked calmly, scanning the faces of those gathered.


    No one spoke.


    "Good," Cregan continued, his tone measured but firm. "I will send a raven to the royal court, requesting more aid before the King returns."


    Then, with sudden intensity, he mmed his hand on the table and dered, "Winter ising, and no one can retreat!"


    Boom! Boom! Boom!


    The advisers of the North pounded their fists in unison, their frostbitten faces alight with determination.


    "Winter ising!" they shouted, the passionate chorus echoing through the hall.


    ...


    Winterfell.


    "Quack..."


    A raven, ck as night, fluttered through the open window. The elderly Maester gently removed the letter tied to its leg, his expression serious.


    "What news?" Ba asked eagerly, her eyes alight with excitement. She had been cooped up in Winterfell far too long, the stillness rusting her spirit.


    The Maester frowned as he unfolded the message and slowly handed it to the Queen. "Your Grace, a letter of assistance from the Lord."


    Rhaenyra sat at the head of the hall, sipping hot wine as she tallied the endless ounts. Day after day, she faced growing demands: aiding nobles whose castles had copsed under the heavy snow, sending men to clear roads and farms, rescuing orphaned children... the list seemed never-ending, and no matter how hard she worked, she struggled to keep up.


    When the Maester passed her the letter, Rhaenyra wiped her lips and opened it with a flicker of anticipation. It had been too long since she hadst heard from Rhaegar, and any news from beyond the Wall was rare. The siblings exchanged letters whenever ravens could make the treacherous journey, though messages came few and far between.


    As she read the letter, Rhaenyra��s joy faded. The problems piled up quickly: a shortage of supplies, equipment requests, wildlings entering the Wall and in need ofnd. And worst of all��Rhaegar had left the Wall.


    "Seven hells!" she cursed, pping her forehead as she slumped back into her chair, groaning. <em>As if The North didn��t have enough problems already.</em>


    The White Walkers had yet to strike, but there was plenty of trouble brewing within the North itself.


    "Your Grace, let me see that," Ba said, her hand on her hip as she leaned over to read the letter with her.


    Rhaenyra passed the letter, brushing her long silver-blonde hair aside. Her deep violet eyes shed with helplessness. "Lord Cregan��s given me a difficult task this time. The Last Hearth, closest to Castle ck, was granted to the Night''s Watch during the reign of the Old King. The people of the North won��t allow free folk to settle that close to theirnds."


    Ba frowned. "And now Rhaegar��s left the Wall too. What��s he thinking?"


    Rhaenyra sighed, though she trusted her brother��s abilities. <em>Beyond the Wall lies nothing but uncertainty. Even Rhaegar can��t guarantee safety there.</em>


    "Your Grace, don''t trouble yourself with these matters," Ba urged.


    But Rhaenyra��s mind was already racing. "The free folk wantnd. We could start by offering promises��grand ones��to calm both them and the northern lords."


    Ba raised an eyebrow. "Promises? We don''t have anynd to give, Rhaenyra."


    Rhaenyra smiled, stroking Ba��s silky hair, thankful for her adopted daughter��s boldness. "No, but we do."


    Ba��s confusion turned to curiosity as Rhaenyra reached for her quill. "Daeron has reimed vast tracts of fertilend in the Golden Fields. If the free folk truly seeknd, they can cross the sea to the east and settle there."


    Ba paused, her eyes widening as the solution clicked into ce. <em>Of course... the Golden Fields.</em>


    That��s why the crown could support the North so confidently��because they had thousands of acres of fertilend to fall back on. The royal family had more resources than anyone had realized.


    Ba, however, was less concerned with politics. "So... when do we go to the Wall?" she asked, her voice filled with impatience. Adventure, not strategy, burned in her veins.


    Rhaenyra��s violet eyes sparkled with the same desire. "Let me think on that," she said, her thoughts drifting northward.


    The Wall still called to her.


    ...


    The Foot of the Fist of the First Men.


    Snow had long since buried the footprints of the ancestors, leaving the ground a vast, unbroken stretch of white. ck boots crunched into the snow, sinking deep into the frozen pits. Rhaegar braced himself against the biting wind and bent down to pick up a dark arrow.


    ��Dragonss,�� he muttered.


    The Dragonss weapons gifted by the Children of the Forest had been reserved for the most critical missions, and they were now scattered ahead of him.


    ��They��re just up ahead,�� he said, gripping the arrow tightly.


    His expression turned solemn as he began to climb the ancient hill. Heat radiated from his body, melting the snow and turning the wind away as if it couldn��t touch him. Every few steps, he found another indentation in the snow��a footprint not yet covered by the storm, and next to it, another dark arrow.


    The Child of the Forest walking beside him scanned their surroundings, her gaze growing darker as they approached the summit. The Fist of the First Men looked eerily familiar to her.


    ...


    <strong>The Summit of the Fist of the First Men.</strong>


    Robb and a handful of Unsullied worked in haste, freeing themselves from the ropes binding their supplies, swinging their picks to break through the frozen earth and stone.


    ��Hurry! We��re almost there,�� urged the red-nosed wildling, kneeling on the ground and shoving aside the packed snow and dirt with frantic hands.


    In no time, they had dug three feet into the frozen ground at the mountain��s peak.


    ��Stop!�� the wildling shouted, his voice trembling with excitement. He reached into the hole, his hands shaking as he pulled out a rag-covered object. The cloth was old and ckened, rough to the touch.


    Robb bent over to inspect it. It was unmistakable��Night��s Watch cloaks, tattered and ancient.


    "Ha! Atst!" the wildling cried, rubbing his hands together feverishly as he unwrapped the bundle.


    The first thing to catch his eye was the gleam of dark Dragonss��daggers, spearheads, arrowheads, all glinting under the dim light of the storm.


    ��What is this junk?�� the wildling scowled, tossing the Dragonss aside in frustration. Beneath it, still wrapped in the ck cloth,y a horn��pale and engraved with tiny runes. The horn was three feet long, its surface smooth like polished bone.


    ��The Horn of Winter!�� the wildling gasped, his eyes widening as he lifted the artifact above his head, trembling with awe.


    ��Be careful, idiot!�� growled a tall wildling, pping him on the back of the head. He snatched the horn from the trembling man��s hands and inspected it closely. It appeared undamaged, its ivory surface unblemished. He was about to raise it to his lips and blow when he noticed something odd��a faint w at the mouthpiece.


    His stomach knotted with dread. He shook the horn near his ear.


    ng, ng...


    The hollow interior echoed with the unsettling sound of something rattling inside.


    ��What the hell is that?��


    The other wildlings gathered quickly, surrounding him with anxious looks.


    ��The horn��s broken!�� the tall wildling growled, his fury rising. He made a move to hurl it into the snow.


    ��Let me try!�� the red-nosed wildling protested, snatching it back. He raised the horn to his lips and blew.


    A high-pitched, squeaky sound emerged��a far cry from the deep, ancient tone of legend. It was no more than a child��s toy whistle.


    ��It��s broken... It��s really broken...�� the red-nosed wildling groaned, copsing into the snow, his face a mask of despair.


    Legend held that the Horn of Winter was a sacred artifact coveted by both the Children of the Forest and the giants. During the invasion of the First Men, the Children used it to awaken giants from the earth, sending a wave that shattered the Arm of Dorne. Later, during the Andal invasion, the Horn of the East was said to have summoned the sea to flood The Neck, attempting to divide the North from Westeros.


    But something had gone wrong, and instead of breaking thend, it only drowned arge part of the forest, creating the swampy mire known today as The Neck.


    ��We��re finished!�� the red-nosed wildling cried out in despair, grabbing a fistful of snow and throwing it to the ground. ��Without the Horn of Winter, we��ll never breach the Wall. We��re doomed to be corpses��ves to the Others!��


    He buried his face in his hands, as the wind howled and the snow fell harder.

 Chapter 675: Integrating the North and the Free Folk

    Chapter 675: Integrating the North and the Free Folk


    ��Who said that?��


    As the words hung in the air, a cold voice cut through the stillness, picking up the conversation. The wildlings froze, startled by the unfamiliar tone. It was a voice none of them had heard before.


    ��Where are the wargs?�� the voice demanded.


    The red-nosed wildling��s eyes widened, scanning the ranks for the wargs. As a scout, how could he have allowed an enemy to get so close? Turning his head, he spotted the male Skinchanger��a thin, dry-haired figure��his face expressionless, eyes rolled back in his head.


    ��Huh!��


    Above them, a grey hawk shrieked in rm, circling the sky frantically. From the blind side of the mountain, two figures emerged��one tall, one short��walking toward them with deliberate steps.


    Rhaegar, his ckfyre sword in hand, approached without haste, his face indifferent. ��A team with Skinchangers is rare, even among the free folk.��


    His gaze drifted,nding on Robb, whose chapped lips and bound hands betrayed the hardships he''d faced.


    ��Your Grace,�� Robb eximed, excitement bubbling up as he tried to move forward, only to be held back by his captors.Rhaegar nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes narrowing. ��Where are the giants?��


    ��The giants�� they��re being held at the free folk camp, Your Grace,�� Robb answered quickly, his shoulders shaking. Even with the king here, they had still dared to bind him.


    ��How did you slip past the Skinchangers?�� The red-nosed wildling stepped forward, drawing his axe and standing defensively before the immobilized Skinchanger.


    ��Hide?�� Rhaegar blinked, his tone almost casual. ��I didn��t.��


    Suddenly, the Child of the Forest darted out, her green eyes fixed on the grey hawk above. With a sharp cry����Kee!����the hawk let out a mournful screech and tumbled from the sky. The Child of the Forest caught it gracefully, cradling the bird in her slender arms.


    The wildlings gasped in shock.


    ��A Child of the Forest!�� the red-nosed wildling stammered, stepping back in disbelief. ��Who�� who are you?��


    The Children of the Forest had vanished from the world thousands of years ago, their presence reduced to myth. Even the natives of The Neck rarely saw one. Yet here stood one, following a young man.


    Rhaegar strode forward, nting ckfyre into the snow with a calm authority. ��Didn��t you hear what your prisoner just called me?��


    The Valyrian steel sword glimmered, its ck surface reflecting the faint ripples of water across the pristine snow.


    The red-nosed wildling sucked in a sharp breath, his voice quivering. ��You��re the King in the Wall?��


    ��Let me go, you fool!�� Robb��s voice rang out, powerful and clear, as he kicked at the wildlings who held him. Breaking free, he straightened, his voice loud with pride. ��Before you stands Rhaegar I of House Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, the only King on both sides of the Narrow Sea, and Lord of ver��s Bay and Old Valyria!��


    A cascade of titles spilled from his lips, but there were still many more that went unspoken. The wildlings exchanged stunned looks, unsure of how to respond.


    Leaning casually on his sword, Rhaegar offered a faint smile. ��And who are you?��


    The wildling with the red nose opened his mouth, then hesitated, ncing at the towering figure standing beside him. ��Er... he��s Balon.��


    The tall wildling puffed out his chest, sending a quick nce to his second-inmand. Understanding instantly, the red-nosed wildling corrected himself. ��Balon, King-Beyond-the-Wall.��


    ��The king of the wildlings,�� Robb scoffed, freeing hispanions from their bindings.


    ��I am the King-Beyond-the-Wall,�� Baron said, his voice calm but firm. ��Chosen by the free folk.��


    He was an imposing figure��at least seven feet tall, with muscles rippling beneath his furs, exuding raw power.


    Rhaegar tilted his head, eyeing Balon with a chuckle. "King-Beyond-the-Wall... where''s your crown?"


    Balon adjusted the bearskin hat on his head, stretching his neck as he replied, "The free folk don��t need crowns. They''re just shackles, a yoke of oppression on their people."


    Rhaegar��s smile faded, his tone growing more serious. "Without a crown, how do you distinguish a king from amoner?"


    Drawing the gleaming ckfyre, Rhaegar��s voice hardened. "A crown isn��t about being superior to others. It��s about standing taller when the sky falls."


    He spoke with the weight ofmand, like a king who leads by example. In the face of danger, when the dead rise and the night grows long, it is the king who must stand firm. And as long as he didn��t retreat from the North, neither would his vassals.


    Balon sneered, tightening his grip on his enormous axe. "Enough with the big talk. What do you <em>really</em> want?"


    Rhaegar met his gaze, stepping closer. "Take me to the remaining free folk and lead them through the Wall with me."


    Balon��s face twisted in anger. "Who��d believe your lies?" he shouted, swinging his axe in a wide arc.


    <em>ng!</em>


    In a sh of ck steel, the axe flew from his hands, spinning through the air. Balon froze, staring in disbelief at the broken handle in his grasp. The cold edge of ckfyre pressed lightly against his neck, sending a chill straight to his core.


    Rhaegar didn��t flinch, his voice calm. "Lead the way, great King-Beyond-the-Wall."


    Balon��s bravado crumbled. He stood speechless, his defiance draining away.


    Robb, eyebrows raised in triumph, stepped forward, grabbing a rope. "Shall I bind them?" he asked, ready to tie up the wildlings.


    "No need," Rhaegar waved him off. "They''re on our side now."


    The wildlings shared amon enemy with them��the White Walkers��and there was no sense in wasting strength on needless fighting.


    Robb nodded, but couldn��t resist one final act of payback. He grabbed the red-nosed wildling by the cor and delivered a hard punch to his eye socket.


    "Ugh!" the wildling grunted, stumbling back.


    "For every punch you gave me," Robb growled through clenched teeth, "I��ll return one."


    The red-nosed wildling kept silent, not daring to provoke him further.


    Rhaegar surveyed the ground, picking up the scattered Dragonss weapons. His gaze shifted to the Child of the Forest, who sat nearby, cradling the damaged Horn of Winter in her delicate hands.


    "What is this?" Rhaegar asked, sensing a faint, unfamiliar magic in the air.


    It wasn��t the blood and fire of his Targaryen lineage, nor the icy cold of the Others. It felt closer to the elemental magic of the Rhoynar��s Water Wizards, but richer��like the vibrant, natural aura of the Children of the Forest. The scent of earth and fresh morning mist seemed to fill his senses, as if he were standing in a spring forest.


    "A damaged sacred object," the Child of the Forest whispered, her voice trembling with sorrow. Her green eyes were full of regret. "Thousands of years ago, after we signed the peace with the First Men, many of our ancient treasures were lost. The Horn of Winter was one such relic, once shared between us and the giants. It was thought lost forever, until now."


    "And what does it do?" Rhaegar crouched beside him,paring the horn to the Dragon Horn he carried. The Dragon Horn, made of Valyrian steel and towering over two meters long, was a giant among horns. Only those with the blood of dragons could sound it; anyone else would be consumed by fire.


    The Child of the Forest gently caressed the Horn of Winter, its ancient surface worn but still powerful. "It can summon the sleeping giants beneath the earth. It��s nature��s greatest weapon."


    Her brown-green cheek pressed against the horn, but her eyes were filled with sadness. The horn, though once mighty, was now damaged. Its true power could no longer be unleashed.


    "More powerful than the Dragon Horn?" Rhaegar asked skeptically, taking the Horn of Winter from her. He bent down, scooped up a handful of snow, and wiped the mouthpiece with disdain. Then, without a second thought, he brought it to his lips.


    <em>Wo��</em>


    The pale horn vibrated gently in his hands, releasing a deep, resonant sound that echoed across the snowy expanse. The melody stirred the air, causing the falling snow to lift and swirl, forming a graceful arc in the sky.


    ...


    <strong>King��s Landing, the Red Keep.</strong>


    In the council chamber, Daemon Targaryen loungedzily in the main seat, his legs draped over the armrest, holding a letter in his hand. His expression darkened as he read its contents. Across from him, advisors Lyman and Orwyle exchanged uneasy nces but dared not reprimand him for his casual disrespect.


    ��The King has gone beyond the Wall, and the people of the North are asking for more aid,�� Daemon announced, frowning deeply. He wasn��t just displeased with his nephew��s reckless decision to venture into the frozen wilderness, but he also held little respect for the people of the North.


    In Daemon��s mind, if the people of the Vale were little more than "bronze-armored peasants," then the North was filled with even worse��a rabble of lowborn savages fit to rot in the frozen wastnd beyond the Neck. They were no different from the wild lords of Crackw Point, bastards of the cold and wilderness. In his view, north or south of the Wall made little difference��they were all savages.


    "Your Grace may be far away, but the Wall still has Princes Aegon and Aemond," Lyman spoke up, his voice trembling as his slow mind processed the situation.


    ��Both uncles are here, but their dragons may refuse to cross it,�� Baelon, seated at the lower end of the table, chimed in while supporting the elderly Lyman.


    ��That��s troubling,�� Lyman murmured, his brow furrowing.


    Daemon��s eyes flicked toward Orwyle, who had been watching the exchange quietly. ��Grand Maester, why can��t the dragons cross the Wall?��


    Orwyle hesitated, then finally spoke, choosing his words carefully. ��ording to historical records, your grandmother, Queen Alysanne, faced the same issue. Her dragon, Silverwing, refused to leap the Wall as well. It seems rted to the dragons'' innate nature.��


    "Silverwing couldn��t do it, but Vermithor did, didn��t he?" Daemon��s eyes shed with impatience. "I don''t want old tales. I want facts."


    He waved away the exnation, clearly uninterested. ��My nephew has rallied the wildlings beyond the Wall, and the Wall needs royal reinforcements now.��


    Baelon leaned forward, his hand brushing the dragon-taming whip at his waist. ��Do you want me to go?��


    ��No,�� Daemon snapped, sitting upright. ��I��ll go myself and see these so-called White Walkers.��


    He had heard enough of the prophecies��A Song of Ice and Fire spoke of ancient threats rising in the North, and Daemon didn��t take such things lightly. Rhaegar might be strong, but thepanions he had gathered were another matter. Daemon would need to see for himself.


    ��Prince, you are the regent,�� Tormund, the Master of Whisperers, reminded him gently, choosing his words with care. ��The merchants of Hightower and Qarth are officially at war, and the kingdom requires someone reliable to keep peace in the realm.��


    Daemon waved him off dismissively. ��What about Hena? Send her to her mother��s family��she can fly around on her dragon if she��s bored.��


    Tormund hesitated. ��Princess Hena received a raven this morning. She��s already left for the Wall.��


    Daemonughed, though his thoughts were still on the White Walkers. ��She��s eager to leave the royal court behind, it seems.��


    He looked at Baelon, who sat beside him, a young man with fire in his veins but uncertainty in his eyes. ��I��ll go to the North. You, Baelon, will stay and manage King��s Landing.��


    ��Me?�� Baelon blinked, pointing at himself in disbelief.


    ��Yes, you,�� Daemon replied, giving him a once-over. ��Can you handle it?��


    Baelon hesitated for only a moment. In the distance, a loud <em>boom</em> shook the Red Keep��s gardens. Outside, a massive moss-colored dragon rose from the snow, shaking off the white frost that had settled on its scales. Momentster, two more great beasts followed suit��Vermithor and Vhagar, their bronze and dark green forms emerging like ancient mountain peaks from the snow.


    Baelon��s eyes widened at the sight of the dragons awakening, but then a steely resolve filled him. He took a deep breath, the confidence building within him. ��No problem. I��ll take care of King��s Landing.��


    Daemon nodded, a faint smile ying on his lips. ��Good. You��ve got a bit of your father��s courage.��


    He cast his gaze across the room, thinking of the broader realm. For the moment, Westeros was quiet��no major conflicts, save for a few skirmishes in Oldtown. The army in the Westends hadn��t yet crossed Bitterbridge, and it was important to spur them northward.


    His mind was made up. Daemon would lead the army to the Wall. There was no time to waste. He couldn��t be chained to King��s Landing when there was a war to be fought beyond the Wall. The North needed fire and blood.

 Chapter 676: The Night King Awakes

    Chapter 676: The Night King Awakes


    Fist of the First Men.


    A towering peak of ancient stone jutted into the sky, its summit bare and windswept, defiant against the elements. Below, the snow-covered slopes glistened, stretching far down the mountain''s side. Midway up, a sudden shift sent a foot of snow cascading downward, roaring as it swept across thend. In an instant, the avnche consumed the foothills, burying the quickest path from the Fist of the First Men to the Haunted Forest beneath tons of ice and debris.


    Who had triggered it?


    Someone��or something��had set off the avnche.


    ...


    Hardhome.


    The only outlet to the sea Beyond the Wall, and thergest gathering ce for the free folk. Towering cliffs shielded the settlement from the biting sea winds, while the vast, t beach below could amodate thergest of ships. Hundreds of thousands of wildlings were spread across the area, chopping trees to build makeshift shelters, their campfires burning fiercely against the cold.


    ��This is our base camp,�� Baron grumbled as he led Rhaegar through the sprawling encampment, his scowl deepening.


    ��There are at least 300,000 people here,�� Rhaegar observed, scanning the crowd of free folk wrapped in thick animal furs. "What are you all eating?"Everywhere, small clusters of fires consumed wood at an rming rate, though they brought warmth and drove away beasts from the edges of the settlement.


    Baron shot him a defiant look. ��The free folk admire freedom. We take what thend gives us��whether from the mountains or the sea.��


    In other words, they survived by catching whatever they could.


    ��You��re back, King Baron,�� came a voice from nearby.


    A tall, heavily tattooed man grinned as he approached, his teeth filed to sharp points. He was bare-chested despite the cold, his eyes gleaming with a feral intensity that made Rhaegar narrow his gaze. The man��s stench hit him before the words did��a rank odor of sweat and rot.


    ��Yo, did you catch a flock of crows?�� the man sneered, gripping his axe tightly as he leaned closer, his eyes hungry, as though he might devour Rhaegar and hispanions on the spot.


    ��Senli, back off!�� Baron stepped in front of him, his expression fierce. ��These are <em>my</em> prey. If you��re hungry, go eat shit.��


    Senli��s face twisted in frustration, but out of respect for the King-Beyond-the-Wall, he slowly backed off, raising his hands in mock surrender. Before he left, he shot Rhaegar a venomous re, his sharp teeth bared like an animal��s.


    Rhaegar wrinkled his nose. The smell was so overwhelming, he fought the urge to gag. ��And who is <em>that</em>?��


    Baron gave a casual shrug. ��That��s Senli, leader of the Thenn. Got a strong sense of taste, that one.�� He leaned in closer and whispered, ��Careful with him��those teeth can chew through bone.��


    Rhaegar shot him a cold look, pushing Baron''s hand off his shoulder. ��Do you think dragon teeth bite harder?��


    Baron��s face twitched with irritation, and he pulled his hand back, muttering under his breath.


    ��Take me to the leaders of all the free tribes,�� Rhaegar ordered. His voice turned icy. ��They��re alling with me.��


    Without waiting for a response, he strode toward the center of the camp. The air was filled with the dull <em>thud</em> of heavy footsteps. Several towering figures moved toward them, their massive frames blocking out the sun.


    Nunu, the giant, was casually stripping the hide off a reindeer, his wide grin showing as he called out, ��You actually came.��


    The half-skinned reindeer was tossed aside, and Nunu moved in for a hug, his bloodstained hands reaching out toward Rhaegar and Robb.


    ��No, no! Hold on, brother!�� Robb quickly ducked to avoid the giant��s embrace, raising his hands in defense to dodge the bloody grip.


    Rhaegar took a moment to survey the scene. Giants of all ages were gathered together��an impressive sight within the free folk camp. With the giants'' support, it would be far easier to rally the wildlings into a cohesive force. The giantsmanded respect, and their raw strength would make them invaluable allies in theing fight.


    <em>This will save us time��and words,</em> Rhaegar thought, casting a quick nce over his shoulder.


    A group of Thenns lingered near the giant camp, their faces painted in vivid colors, watching the giants with a mix of suspicion and malice.


    ��Hmph,�� Rhaegar scoffed, shaking his head with a faint smile. ��Frogs at the bottom of a well.��


    ...


    A fortnightter.


    The Wall, Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.


    The blue-and-green seahorse banner of House Vryon fluttered atop the Wall, alongside the ck banners of the Night��s Watch. Sailors d in silver-gray armor mingled with the ck-cloaked brothers, adding a ssh of color to the otherwise bleak scene.


    ��Roar!��


    A massive scarlet dragon circled high above, its furious roar echoing through the cold, northern air.


    ��Meleys still refuses to ept the cold,�� Corlys Vryon muttered from his perch on the watchtower, his sharp gaze following the dragon��s restless flight. For weeks now, the dragon had been in this uneasy state, pping and diving with clear agitation.


    Rhaenys, dressed in soft ck-and-red armor, exhaled a frosty breath. "Meleys has been in a foul moodtely. Even the goats it''s fed aren''t being eaten. It''s barely touching the food."


    Among the many dragons of House Targaryen, Meleys was known for its temperament��fierce and proud, yetzy.


    Though the fastest dragon alive, Meleys was now over seventy years old, wise and cunning like an experienced warrior past its prime. Yet ever since nearing the Wall, there hadn��t been a single day of peace.


    ��Dragons are wild, and we can��t control them entirely,�� Corlys remarked, putting aforting arm around his wife��s shoulders. ��At least the king��s dragon can cross the Wall.��


    ��Don��t try to soothe me,�� Rhaenys chuckled, shaking her head. "I��m not nearly as anxious as others might be." She smiled, feeling content. With both her husband and son here, what more could she ask for?


    Corlys was about to respond when a distant rumbling cut him off, the sound growing louder with each passing second.


    <em>Rumble��</em>


    The ground trembled, like the warning of an approaching earthquake, the noise emanating from deep within the Haunted Forest.


    <em>Whooo!</em>


    The horn of the Night��s Watch blew three times��wildlings were attacking.


    ��Take care of yourself,�� Rhaenys said quickly, breaking free from Corlys��s embrace. ��I��ll ride Meleys and scout the area.�� Without waiting for a response, she rushed toward the winchdder, her steps swift and determined.


    Corlys��s face grew grim as he peered down from the wall��s edge. The wildling horde stretched far into the distance, a sea of bodies so dense they turned the snow-ckened ground into a dark mass.


    "More than 100,000 at least," Corlys muttered, clenching his fists as he calcted the numbers. On a battlefield, anything over 10,000 was already too many to count. But this... this was a moving storm of bodies, a dark cloud blotting out thend.


    ��Roar...��


    A deafening roar suddenly shook the sky, like distant thunder rolling across the frozen sea. The sound reverberated over the battlefield, rattling bones and shaking souls.


    And then it appeared.


    Out of the thick clouds above, a monstrous ck dragon descended, its wings so vast they nketed the entirendscape and even cast a shadow over the Wall itself. The beast was terrifying��an enormous, two-hundred-meter titan whose sheer size dwarfed everything around it. Its massive, mournful green eyes, like the ghostly fires of purgatory, seemed to pierce through the very souls of those who looked into them.


    Corlys��s breath hitched. His eyes widened as he stared in disbelief at the dragon before him. Bigger than Vhagar��thergest dragon alive��and evenrger than Balerion the ck Dread in his prime. The scale of this creature was beyondprehension.


    ��Land, Cannibal,�� came a calm voice from atop the beast.


    Rhaegar Targaryen sat upon the dragon��s back, looking down at the scene below with an air ofmand. His piercing gaze caught sight of a familiar scarlet figure��Meleys��soaring toward the Night��s Watch castle.


    <em>Aunt Rhaenys is here too,</em> he thought.


    "Roar..."


    The Cannibal''s piercing green eyes swept over the hundreds of thousands of gathered Free Folk below, radiating menace. As it soared over the Wall, its colossal wings beat the air with force.


    <em>Rumble</em>��its massive hind legs mmed into a snowdrift, sending a wave of heat rippling through the cold air, carrying with it the faint smell of ash.


    ��Rhaegar, you��ve returned!�� Rhaenys eximed in surprise, rushing up to meet Meleys.


    ��It��s me, Aunt,�� Rhaegar replied with a small smile, teasing, ��and I��ve brought along some big ones who��ve finally learned to behave.��


    Rhaenys gently patted the ck-scaled Cannibal, and the massive dragon lowered its head obediently, its usual ferocity tempered in his presence. Rhaegar slid smoothly down its sleek scales,nding with a solid thud in the snow.


    "You convinced all the wildlings beyond the Wall?" Rhaenys asked, rushing over to embrace him.


    ��Almost,�� Rhaegar said, his voice steady as he hugged his long-lost aunt. ��There are still some stubborn holdouts.��


    The Thenn, for example, had been especially resistant��but the fires of his dragon had quickly dealt with them. As for the scattered wildlings who remained hidden or refused to migrate, they were now little more than a small, disorganized threat.


    ��Excellent,�� Rhaenys said, smiling broadly. ��With the Free Folk on our side, the White Walkers will never breach the Wall.��


    Her use of the term ��Free Folk�� rather than ��wildlings�� did not go unnoticed. It was a subtle acknowledgment of the new alliance.


    ��And where��s Laenor?�� Rhaegar asked, releasing her and scanning the skies for Seasmoke. Ever since he��d witnessed the true horror of the White Walkers, an unshakable sense of unease had settled over him. He felt a growing difort with the idea of dragons traveling alone��something about it felt wrong.


    Rhaenys paused for a moment, then chuckled. ��Laenor has gone to Castle ck. He��s inspecting the Watchtowers along the Wall as well.��


    Eighteen Watcher��s Castles stood guard along the length of the Wall, each a crucial defense against the icy threat to the North.


    ��Tell him to station himself at Castle ck and stop riding the dragon around aimlessly,�� Rhaegar said firmly, his tone sharpening with concern. ��The Free Folk will begin entering the Wall in groups. We��ll escort them to Castle ck. No one should be caught alone��not even on dragonback.��


    Rhaenys nodded, her expression serious now. ��Understood. I��ll send a raven to Laenor immediately.��


    She admired her nephew''s foresight and calm control. Rhaegar had been gone for a month, rallying hundreds of thousands of Free Folk, facing dangers that others couldn��t imagine.


    ...


    The Land of Always Winter.


    Snow howled through the barren expanse, where ice stretched unbroken for a thousand leagues. This deste wastndy far north of Westeros, beyond the Fist of the First Men, past the stormshed pr ciers where winter raged eternal. No warmth, no life stirred here��only endless cold and silence.


    <em>Sa, sa, sa...</em>


    Footsteps crunched in the deep snow, leaving a trail in the frozen wilderness. A pale figure, draped in cold, moved steadily forward. The ice-blue eyes of the figure locked on the valley ahead, where jagged ice crystals jutted from the ground like teeth.


    In the center of the valley stood an altar of ice, its surface smooth and t, gleaming under the pale light.


    ��Wow~~��


    A soft cry broke the stillness. Two tiny arms poked out from the figure��s chest, revealing a bundled baby squirming within the figure��s embrace. The pale figure lowered its head, gazing down at the infant with eyes as cold as thend around them. The baby��s face, flushed red against the freezing air, wriggled in its swaddling, asionally letting out a soft gurgle.


    The figure��s lips twitched slightly, then it gently ced the swaddled baby onto the altar. The child did not resist, its wide, innocent eyes staring up at the sky.


    <em>Hummm...</em>


    Suddenly, a chilling aura swept through the valley, lowering the temperature even further. The altar trembled, as though something ancient and malevolent stirred beneath it. A pale light flickered, and a shape emerged from the ice��a humanoid figure, its skin as white as snow, d in ice-forged armor. Horns jutted from its bald head, and its ice-blue eyes opened with a cold, indifferent gaze.


    The baby, unaware of the being beneath it, continued to il about, its tiny limbs trying to turn over.


    In an instant, the figure moved. One moment it was beneath the altar; the next, it appeared at its edge, silent and swift. Its back was straight, its posture regal, but slightly hunched as it extended a long, pale finger, its nails as sharp as ws.


    <em>Tap.</em>


    The finger touched the baby��s forehead, and the child instantly stilled. The humanoid figure��s lips curled into a faint smile, almost paternal in its gentleness. Slowly, the brown in the baby��s eyes faded, reced by a frosty blue sheen. Its once-lively gaze dulled, and its movements ceased.


    The figure tilted its head, observing the transformation with quiet satisfaction. Straightening, it nced around the altar.


    Four White Walkers knelt in the snow, their heads bowed in reverence. They were awaiting the return of their king, their icy lord who had awakened from the long winter. The figure��s cold gaze lingered on them briefly before turning away.


    <em>Whoosh...</em>


    High atop nearby ice crystals, three more White Walkers stood, mounted on decayed, skeletal horses. Each held an ice spear, standing like sentinels, their forms blending into the frozenndscape.


    The pale figure nodded slightly and began walking toward the mouth of the valley.


    Step by step, it moved with unhurried purpose, stopping at the valley��s edge. Without a word, it gazed into the distance, its ice-blue eyes growing vacant. It seemed to peer across vast distances, as though seeing far beyond the horizon.


    Suddenly, its vision shifted.


    A towering peak, surrounded by snow-covered slopes. Avnches had buried much of thend below. The Fist of the First Men loomed in the vision, stark and silent.


    The vision flickered again.


    Now, a frozen bay came into view, stretching endlessly beneath a nket of ice. Countless Free Folk moved across it, migrating south with all their belongings strapped to their backs. The wildlings were fleeing, their destination uncertain, but their path clear.


    The scene shifted once more.


    The Wall appeared��great, towering, and imprable.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    A silver dragon soared through the sky, its pale scales shimmering against the snow-coverednd. It flew over the Wall, its wings casting long shadows on the ice below.


    ��Seasmoke, we need to hurry to Castle ck,�� a distant human voice echoed from the vision, though it was faint, barely a whisper in the icy wind.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Seasmoke let out another growl, uneasy, as if sensing an evil presence watching it from afar. The dragon''s agitation increased, its body trembling as it twisted in flight.


    The vision ended abruptly.


    The pale figure stood still, its face expressionless as it broke off a shard of ice from a nearby wall. With deliberate slowness, it began walking out of the frozen valley, leaving behind only silence and the stillness of the Land of Always Winter.

 Chapter 677: The Lannisters Court Death

    Chapter 677: The Lannisters Court Death


    Golden Tooth, the Westends.


    As a fortress guarding the gateway to the Rivends from the Westends, the walls of Golden Tooth have been repaired countless times. The blue sun banner of House Lefford flies proudly from its towers.


    <em>Knock, knock!</em>


    The gates of Golden Tooth swung open as a 10,000-strong army rode out, apanied by 100 wagons filled with supplies and provisions. At the head of the force, 3,000 cavalrymen bore the roaring lion banner of House Lannister.


    "My lord, are you sure about this?" Lord Lefford of Golden Tooth asked from the battlements, his expression betraying embarrassment.


    "Of course," Jason Lannister snorted, looking down his nose at the man. "I''m doing it."


    "By doing this, you are making enemies of the crown," Lord Lefford reasoned, his voice edged with concern.


    Jason, however, waved off the warning. A month earlier, an army had begun to gather in the Westends. Now, it had swelled to 10,000, prepared to march. Yet, a mere 2,000 had dragged their feet to The Twins, taking far longer than expected. Just days ago, Jason had unexpectedly changed his orders,manding 5,000 troops that were to march north to instead remain at the Green Fork of the Trident.


    This was a clear defiance of royalmands. By halting the troops at the Green Fork, Jason had effectively blocked the only passage for reinforcements to aid the royal family.Today, Westeros was gripped by an unprecedented winter, the snow piled over three feet deep. The Vale waspletely isted, and the only way north for the southern armies was through House Frey��s stronghold at The Twins. Blocking the Green Fork would sever the North from the rest of the realm.


    Jason��s advisers were troubled, but he looked down on them with contempt. "I have no intention of disobeying the King''s orders," he imed defiantly. "The heavy snowfall has simply blocked the roads, making it impossible for our army to advance."


    ��Daemon humiliated me, trespassing on my castle like amon thief,�� he thought, clenching his fists. <em>''I won��t let this go.''</em>


    Lord Lefford, sensing the futility of further argument, sighed. "You make your own decisions," he muttered before turning away. His eyes darted nervously as he left.


    Jason crossed his arms, the rubies in his gauntlets clinking against the golden lion emzoned on his breastte. "Damn Daemon, damn Tnd," he cursed under his breath. "They should all freeze to death along with the men of the North."


    It wasn''t just personal revenge driving Jason. A merchant from Qarth had recentlynded in Lannisport, and two of The Thirteen had struck a secret deal with him. Dying the royal war against the North would earn Jason fifty ships loaded with Qarthese spices and jewels.


    If he could further stall the Reach��s nobles from joining the war by creating chaos in Oldtown, he stood to profit even more through increased taxes to Lannisport. The alliance between Oldtown and House Lannister had already crumbled, with Oldtown now a firm supporter of the crown. Allying with Qarth, therefore, was a perfect opportunity for revenge��one that would also weaken the Hightowers of Oldtown.


    It was a brilliant scheme. <em>Two birds with one stone,</em> he thought with satisfaction.


    ...


    The actions of the army in the Westends soon had far-reaching repercussions. A few hundred soldiers from several noble families of the Rivends were blocked at the Green Fork of the Trident by 2,000 Lannister troops. After fruitless negotiations, they were forced to turn back towards the Red Fork.


    Riverrun, the Great Hall...


    "My lord, the bastards of House Lannister are blocking our way and preventing us from reinforcing the King!" one of the lords eximed.


    "Yes, Lord Jason''s actions are tantamount to treason," another replied bitterly.


    ...


    Dozens of Rivends nobles had gathered, shouting angry insults. These were all lords who had been intent on marching north to support the King, but had been stopped in their tracks by the Lannister blockade. The Rivends, traditionally weak in military strength, had norge standing armies; even its wealthiest houses maintained only a few hundred men each. Together, two or three families would form a small force. Against the 2,000 Lannister soldiers, they were powerless and hade to Riverrun in disgrace to air their grievances.


    <strong>On the second floor of the hall...</strong>


    Young Lord Kermit Tully sat on the lord��s chair, his head throbbing as the angry voices of his bannermen echoed below. The nobles of the Rivends were notoriously stubborn and old-fashioned, and they dared to stand against injustice��but they argued endlessly.


    ��This can''t go on,�� Kermit thought, rubbing his temples.


    "Brother, this is no way to handle things," Oscar Tully said quietly beside him, frowning. "The supply troops from the Crownds march north every month, and the Westends are looking for trouble. Anyone who dares to block the royal forces, especially the northern allies, is asking for war."


    Oscar''s eyes shed with impatience. "House Lannister is clearly trying to sabotage the royal effort to defend the Wall. Once the crown learns of this, the mes of war will reignite."


    "I know," Kermit replied, his expression darkening as he gritted his teeth. "Jason Lannister has already been reprimanded by Prince Daemon for dying the troop deployment. This is his petty retaliation."


    "Instead of sitting here and waiting to die, why don��t we attack?" Benjicot ckwood, with his youthful, innocent face, spoke up from the second floor. His eyes gleamed with excitement. "The Rivends are our territory. We could strike the Westends forces with a pincer movement, from inside and outside."


    The suggestion caused a stir. Benjicot, along with Kermit and Oscar, was one of "The Lads"��a term for the group of young leaders known for their loyalty to the heir to the Iron Throne. Their boldness and strategic insight had earned them a reputation throughout the Seven Kingdoms.


    "I think it��s feasible," Oscar said, already plotting routes in his mind. His voice was low,ced with murderous intent. "Lady Sabitha of Twins is still there. If we send a raven to her, we can surround their forces on both sides."


    Though they were young, "The Lads" had already demonstrated a shrewdness far surpassing the older generation of lords below, most of whom had been born in times of peace and knew little about true warfare.


    Kermit stroked the short beard growing on his chin, clearly intrigued by his brother''s and friend��s n. The Lannisters were asking for trouble, and someone needed to seize the opportunity for glory. Since the conflict was unfolding in the Rivends, the Rivends ought to im the credit.


    <strong>Bang!</strong>


    Kermit rose from his seat and addressed his brothers and the assembled lords in amanding voice. "I will send a raven to the heir to the throne in King''s Landing. He will personally decide the fate of the Westends forces. Everyone must gather their troops and prepare for war!"


    Though eager, Kermit knew that acting without royal approval could lead to disaster. They needed the crown��s blessing to ensure legitimacy. Once that order arrived, they would march to the Green Fork of the Trident.


    "Yes, my lord!" came the resounding reply from the Rivends lords, ready to rally their men.


    ...


    King''s Landing...


    Snow nketed the streets, and the bitter cold caused water to drip from the trees like frozen icicles. Scavengers worked from dawn, dragging snow and frozen corpses out of the city.


    <em>Knock, knock, knock!</em>


    Gold-cloaked men moved in groups, knocking on doors as they went from house to house.


    "The king is giving out firewood and rations, open up quickly!" one of them called out.


    A wooden door, crudely covered with rough linen, creaked open. A frail, dirty old woman appeared in the doorway, her face pale, her dry hair matted from days without washing. Like everyone else in King''s Landing, she had no ess to hot water, let alone extra warmth during the unforgiving winter.


    "Take this and wait three days for the next distribution," the gold-cloaked man grunted, tossing a bundle of firewood and a sack of rice into the door without care.


    The woman didn''tin. Instead, she murmured her gratitude, her voice filled with relief. "Thank you... thank our king."


    "Don''t go out unless you have to, and seal your doors and windows at night," the man advised in a tired, routine tone. He pushed his cart and moved on to the next street, his breath fogging in the cold air.


    The heavy snow had fallen unexpectedly, and the entire continent had been caught off guard. In response, the king��currently leading forces in the North��hadmanded the Free Cities across the Narrow Sea to send daily shipments of food to King''s Landing. This steady influx of supplies kept the capital from starving.


    The young heir prince, moved by the plight of the people, had ordered the Kingswood outside the city to be felled for firewood, ensuring those suffering in the cold had fuel to burn. Without this aid, far more would have perished in the freezing streets.


    "Thank the gods," one of the gold-robed men muttered with relief as they finished their rounds.


    <em>Smack!</em>


    The leader of the squad pped him across the head, his face cold and disdainful. "Thank the royal family, you fool. The gods are enjoying themselves in their temples."


    Since the rise of Protestantism, the Faith of the Seven had been losing its authority, its power diminished. If the old and new gods were truly watching over them, themon folk wouldn��t have to suffer like this, running through snow-filled streets just to survive.


    ...


    <strong>Red Keep, Council Hall...</strong>


    Prince Baelon sat behind his desk, a pile of thick letters and memorials stacked before him. He casually dropped one petition, which detailed the bodies of the people who had been found frozen outside the city gates that morning. Despite the firewood being distributed, it was nowhere near enough to keep everyone warm throughout the day. For those whose homes were drafty, freezing to death was almost inevitable.


    "s, hundreds more people have died," Baelon sighed, his voice heavy with sorrow. <em>''So many children, so many women... frozen to death, and there��s nothing we can do to save them,''</em> he thought bitterly.


    In times of crisis, Baelon couldn��t help but feel inferior to his father. His father had foreseen the severity of this winter, moving his own family members��Baelon��s grandfather and younger siblings��into more secure quarters in advance. He had also ensured a steady flow of food from the Free Cities across the Narrow Sea, keeping the people of King��s Landing fed and preventing riots. But no amount of foresight could conjure more heating supplies, and that left Baelon deeply troubled.


    <em>Knock, knock, knock!</em>


    The door opened, and two advisers entered the room. Otto Hightower, with Lyman Beesbury close behind, approached cautiously.


    "Prince," Otto began, his tone measured, "the fighting in Oldtown has worsened. And there are reports of stone men infected with greyscale in Whispering Sound."


    Baelon��s eyes darkened at the news. He had suspected the merchants of Qarth might be responsible, spreading the stone men and the gue to sow chaos.


    "Has support from the Westends not arrived?" Baelon asked, surprised.


    The armies of The Reach had already set out for the North, and the royal family had secretly ordered House Lannister to reinforce Oldtown��s Hightower to counterbnce Qarth��s influence.


    "This brings me to the second matter," Otto said, drawing a deep breath. His voice grew solemn. "Lord Kermit of Riverrun has written. The Western army is stationed at the Green Fork, blocking the coalition army��s route north."


    Baelon froze, stunned by the news. <em>How dare Jason?</em> His uncle Daemon had only recently warned him about Jason��s defiance.


    "Prince, this is nothing short of treason," Lyman added, his tone slow and deliberate. "Lord Kermit begs for your guidance. If necessary, the Rivends lords are prepared to dere war in your name."


    "I... I know," Baelon replied, struggling to process the gravity of the situation. <em>Jason��s actions could ignite a civil war,</em> he thought grimly.


    "You must act swiftly," Otto urged, his face stern. "The Westends no longer respect the authority of the royal family."


    With a slight bow, Otto turned and left the hall, his expression hard. The troubles in Oldtown weighed heavily on him, as it was his family''s fiefdom.


    Baelon remained seated, resting one hand on his forehead as the enormity of the situation sank in. After a moment, he pulled out a scroll and handed it to Lyman.


    "Lord Lyman," he sighed, "organize the impoverished people of King''s Landing. Have them gather in churches and other shelters where they can receive food and warmth."


    Distributing rations and firewood randomly won��t help. If they bring them together, they may still be able to save some lives.


    "Yes, Prince." Lyman took the scroll, but hesitated for a moment, as if on the verge of urging Baelon to take military action.


    Honeyholt, being so close to Oldtown, was already feeling the pressure, and the Bysperry family, vassals to House Hightower, shared in that distress. His own house was affected, and he harbored a deep resentment toward the Westends for breaking their word.


    "You may go," Baelon interrupted, waving his hand dismissively.


    Lyman fell silent, bowing slightly before walking out of the room. The door closed with a firm <em>thud</em>.


    <em>��Sigh...��</em> Baelon exhaled deeply, his young face marked with a bitterness that seemed too heavy for someone his age. Troubles were brewing everywhere��fighting in Oldtown, the treachery of the Westends. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a letter, its seal already broken. It bore the signature of Prince Qyle of Sunspear.


    The letter reported a new rebellion from the orphans along the Greenblood River, with rumors of support from Sellswords and Pentoshi mercenaries. The news had arrived half a month ago, right around the time his Aunt Hena left Summerhall.


    "Seven hells!" Baelon muttered, rubbing his face with both hands, looking up at the ceiling as if seeking answers. <em>''Everything��s falling apart, and I can��t keep up with it all.''</em>


    His sister Daenerys and brother Maekar were both far away, and there was no one he could rely on in the capital. A wave of loneliness washed over him as his thoughts drifted to his absent brother, Aemon. Aemon had always been the sharpest, the one with the brilliant, if reckless, ideas.


    <em>''If only Aemon were here,''</em> Baelon thought wistfully, lowering his head. <em>''He always knew what to do.''</em> They shared the same mother, and their bond was stronger than most��certainly stronger than the distant rtionships seen among other noble houses like the Tullys.


    Closing his eyes in a moment of quiet reflection, Baelon��s hand moved instinctively to the dragon-taming whip at his waist. He gripped it tightly, a small but tangiblefort.


    <em>''I kind of miss you, little brother,''</em> he thought, sadness flickering in his eyes.

 Chapter 678: A Dragonlord’s Death

    Chapter 678: A Dragonlord��s Death


    The Great Grass Sea of the Dothraki stretched endlessly under a clear sky, with white cloudszily drifting by. The tall grasses swayed gently in the breeze, rippling like waves across thend. Despite the calm, the acrid smell of burning wood began to creep into the air.


    A vige of the Lamb Men stood in mes.


    "Kill them all! Take the women as ves!"


    "Hahaha!"


    The shouts of the Dothraki cavalry mixed with the crackling of fire as houses burned. The air was thick with cries of pain and anguish, punctuated by theughter of marauders. The ughter had begun.


    Near an open-air sheep pen, the animals had been driven off, and dozens of pale-skinned Lamb Men women were locked inside the filthy, stinking enclosure. They were at the mercy of the Dothraki.


    "No, let me go!"


    The women struggled desperately, their screams and tears only inviting more brutal violence.


    "Baa..."The sheep bleated fearfully from a distance, their panic echoing the chaos of the vige.


    Aemon stood watching, unable to bear the sight any longer. "Does it have to be this way?"


    "These are the rules. The tribe needs supplies for the migration," the scarred Bloodrider beside him replied coldly as they rode together. His eyes casually swept over the scene of destruction.


    Aemon stood amidst the flock, his silver-gold hair tousled and dusty from the milling sheep. In the eyes of the Dothraki, both he and the women were nothing more thanmbs awaiting ughter.


    "They''re innocent," Aemon said, his voice tight. "Isn''t it enough that you''ve killed all the men? The tribe has taken the sheep, the gold... there''s no need for this."


    He had witnessed the horrors of the Dothraki raids before, but still, the senseless cruelty turned his stomach. The wanton ughter was unlike anything he''d seen in Westeros, or even the Free Cities across the Narrow Sea. There, at least, the brutality was tempered by some semnce of restraint.


    Crack!


    A whip snapped through the air, grazing a sheep''s back and narrowly missing Aemon��s face. Startled, he stumbled, almost trampled by the panicked flock.


    The Bloodrider scowled, his voice low and harsh. "If we don''t take them, someone else will. Killing the men and sparing the women won''t save them." His gaze was cold, unyielding.


    There''s no mercy on the Great Grass Sea. Only thew of the strong.


    Aemon clenched his fists but said nothing more. Here, mercy was as fleeting as the wind over the endless grasnds.


    "Every vige you destroy is one less supply point in the future," Aemon said, shifting the conversation to focus on the long-term cost of their brutality.


    "Hahaha!" The scarred Bloodrider burst intoughter as if he''d just heard an absurd joke. "There are too many people in this world. We all know that."


    "Yes, we all know that,"


    "Hahaha..." The Bloodrider��sughter mingled with the sound of a group of Dothraki riders passing by, sacks of loot slung over their shoulders. They whistled and jeered as they rode, a disy of casual dominance. The Lamb Men were the easiest prey, multiplying like sheep��soft and defenseless.


    Aemon gritted his teeth, the mockery cutting deep. He felt the sharp divide between their understanding of good and evil.


    "Now, drive the sheep away." The Bloodrider''s voice turned hard as he pointed his riding crop at Aemon, sneering. "A Dragonlord without a dragon is as soft as amb. You''ll have to learn to live like us, boy."


    He didn''t want to raise a coward.


    Aemon lowered his head, standing silently. Just meters away, the cries from the sheep pen grew more desperate. Dothraki men had put down their sacks and entered the pen, dragging the Lamb Men women out like livestock. Resistance was met with fists, kicks, and worse.


    The sound of tearing cloth filled the air. Linen dresses were ripped to shreds, exposing pale, milky skin��the mark of the Lamb Men. The Dothraki showed no mercy,shing their new ves with whips if they faltered.


    Aemon''s hand instinctively moved to his back, tracing the rough scars hidden beneath his animal skin coat. The old wounds, from his own initial flogging, prickled painfully as the screams and the crack of whips echoed through the camp.


    "This shouldn''t be like this," he thought, his heart tightening.


    "What did you say?" The Bloodrider squinted, having barely caught Aemon''s muttered words.


    Aemon lifted his head, eyes burning with defiance. His father had always taught him to revere life, to protect it. The Dothraki were breaking every rule of humanity he held sacred.


    "I will not do this," Aemon said, his voice clear as he met the Bloodrider''s gaze.


    The Bloodrider''s expression darkened, realizing the boy was rebelling. "If you disobey an order, you��ll walk in the mud with the ves."


    Among the Dothraki, those who rode horses were revered. To walk, to be without a mount, was to be lower than dirt.


    Aemon shrugged, his tone calm. "As you wish. I have never longed for a horse."


    He removed his animal skin coat, revealing thework of scars crisscrossing his back, and without another word, he walked through the flock of sheep toward another pen. His decision was final. He was done with the Dothraki, with their savage ways.


    He couldn''t return home. He had no ce there anymore. Nor could he make his way to ver''s Bay, as the Witch had once prophesied.


    The endless killing, the mindless plundering��he was tired of it all.


    "Stop, or you''re a traitor!" the scarred Bloodrider yelled as he dismounted his horse, drawing his curved de with a menacing hiss.


    "I said, do as you like," Aemon replied coolly, not bothering to look back. His focus was elsewhere. He stepped behind a Dothraki man who was assaulting a woman and, without hesitation, kicked the man hard in the shin.


    With a thud, the Dothraki toppled from his horse, crashing to the ground in a twisted heap.


    "Get up and go over there," Aemon said gently as he helped the half-dressed woman to her feet. He positioned himself protectively between her and the fallen Dothraki. The woman, older and frightened, stared at him with wide eyes.


    "I''m not one of them," Aemon shook his head, trying to reassure her. He bent down and picked up a burning stick from the ground.


    In an instant, themotion caught the attention of the surrounding Dothraki. Some paused their vile acts, while others, stillughing, swayed their hips mockingly.


    "The shepherd boy thinks he''s a warrior now, daring to challenge us for a woman!" one of them jeered, pointing at the youth who had been kicked off his horse. The sight of a Dothraki being bested by a boy not even tall enough to reach a horse''s saddle was a source of ridicule.


    "Ah! You dare take my spoils!" the furious Dothraki youth snarled. Without bothering to fix his trousers, he grabbed his <em>arakh</em>, eyes zing with rage. He charged at Aemon, eager to reim his twisted sense of honor.


    The onlookers grinned in anticipation, hoping to witness bloodshed sparked by a woman.


    Aemon remained unnervingly calm. Torch in one hand, he drew his sword, Truefyre, with the other. The Valyrian steel de, dark as night and gleaming with a dangerous edge, appeared like a shadow from his hand. The moment it was revealed, greedy eyes among the Dothraki lingered on the sword, its legend well known.


    "You know Blood Sorcery, you damned bastard!" the Dothraki youth spat, his face twisting with both fear and anger. He hurriedly hoisted up his trousers and lunged forward, his curved de slicing through the air, aiming to cut Aemon down and im the sword as his trophy.


    ng!


    Aemon parried the attack with ease, Truefyre deflecting the blow. The two swords shed violently, but Aemon stood firm, his movements deliberate, precise. The Dothraki youth pressed on, relentless in his attacks, determined to bring down the silver-haired boy and seize the prize.


    Aemon��s face tightened with focus, his sword slicing back and forth as he blocked each strike. But as he took a step back, his foot slipped into a puddle left by the sheep��s trampling, causing him to falter.


    "Die, bastard!" the Dothraki youth roared, seeing his opportunity. His scimitar came crashing down in a final, deadly sh.


    Pop!


    The crowd gasped as the sound of a de piercing flesh echoed through the air. The Dothraki youth froze, his <em>arakh </em>halted mid-swing. His face paled, confusion shing across his features.


    Aemon had stepped wide at thest second, leaning forward and driving Truefyre deep into the youth��s stomach. The ck Valyrian steel vanished into his flesh, and the Dothraki staggered back, clutching his side in disbelief before copsing to the ground.


    <em>Sizzling!</em>


    Aemon��s face went pale as he yanked Truefyre free from the Dothraki youth��s body. The dying man coughed up blood, stumbling forward before copsing face-first into the mud. His stomach, disemboweled by the Valyrian steel de, spilled its contents in a grotesque mess. Death imed him swiftly.


    The surrounding Dothraki, who had been watching with amusement, were stunned into silence. None had expected this oue. The scene shifted from mockery to a tense quiet, as they quickly ceased their taunts and leers.


    The woman who had been pinned beneath the dead youth seized the moment, sobbing as she crawled desperately toward the sheepfold. Aemon stood firm, his eyes scanning the approaching Dothraki. There were a dozen or so, slowly closing in, their trousers now pulled up, menace gleaming in their eyes.


    "Let them go," Aemon said, his voice steady despite the tension. "You don''t need this loot. I can offer you something far more valuable��jewels, worth more than all of this."


    His mind raced, knowing that if he could just get back to Westeros or one of the Free Cities, he could keep that promise. But the Dothraki offered no reply, their silence colder than their expressions, which now bore a dangerous, calcting glint.


    Aemon sighed, understanding that words were useless. "Then there''s nothing left to discuss."


    Without warning, he hurled the torch he was holding. Itnded squarely on a nearby haystack, which immediately ignited, the scattered hay catching fire in the wind.


    He took a few steps back as the ruby at the end of Truefyre��s hilt began to glow, reflecting the mes that surged to life around him, spitting and hissing like angry fire serpents.


    <em>Whoosh!</em>


    A sudden gust toppled the haystack, scattering burning hay across the ground and toward the sheepfold. The mes leaped higher, surrounding the area in a fiery ring.


    "What��s going on?" one of the Dothraki cried out, backing away from the zing inferno.


    Others stared at Aemon in shock, their eyes wide with fear. "He''s a blood mage!" someone shouted. The earlier conjuring of a Valyrian steel sword from nowhere, now followed by this ze��superstition took hold.


    <em>Blood mage?</em> Aemon heard the usation through the roar of the fire, and despite the danger, a wry smile tugged at his lips. <em>If only that were true.</em>


    The fire, which he had lit out of desperation, had grown far beyond his control. The wind fanned the mes into an unstoppable force, and now both the Dothraki and the fire surrounded him. Behind him, the Lamb Men women huddled together, their tear-filled eyes fixed on him with a mix of hope and fear.


    In this moment, Aemon felt small, but he knew he stood taller than he ever had before.


    Aemon sighed deeply and said quietly, "It''s over."


    It was finally over. He could now meet the Trickster, and if his soul remained intact, perhaps he could cross the sea and see his parents and Ba once more.


    <em>Crackling!</em>


    The fire consumed the hay, growing fiercer as it reached the wooden fence of the sheep pen, mes climbing higher with every passing moment. Aemon stood still amidst the inferno, his eyes closing slowly. He had made his choice��he would never serve the enemy, nor live as a mere shepherd. A dragon had its own way of dying, and this moment felt right.


    "Put out the fire! Don��t let the boy die like this!"


    Suddenly, voices rose from outside the mes, apanied by the sound of frantic footsteps. The urgency in their cries broke through the roaring ze.


    So many ve girls and bastard boys were trapped in the fire. The Khal would punish them severely if they perished in the mes.


    Aemon��s eyes snapped open in shock. The fire had only just licked at his feet��it wasn��t over after all.


    <em>Whoosh!</em>


    Cold arrows rained down from the sky, followed by the unmistakable sound of hooves pounding the earth.


    "Kill them all!"


    The sudden battle cries shattered the night, sweeping over the vige like a storm. Aemon��s heart raced, the chaos outside hidden from his view by the wall of mes. He couldn��t understand��there were 50,000 Dothraki in the horde, and thousands had been sent to loot this vige. Why an attack now?


    His instincts were right. Arger, more powerful Dothraki group had stormed the vige, ambushing the looters and cutting them down in cold blood. The vige, already a living hell, descended even further into madness.


    Aemon��s eyes widened in disbelief.


    "Boy,e with me!" Arge, rough hand mped over his mouth from behind, the callused fingers painfully pressing against his skin.


    Aemon struggled, shaking his head violently in an attempt to break free. Through the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the Lamb Men woman he had saved earlier. She was no longer the figure of defiance he had seen before. Her chestnut curls were disheveled, her body thickened with age and wear. Her tear-streaked face, lined with deep crow��s feet, was bruised and battered.


    Without a word, the middle-aged woman wrapped Aemon in her torn linen skirt and dragged him back toward the sheep pen. Inside, a group of women stood in tense silence, instinctively pushing her and Aemon into the corner.


    "What are you doing?!" Aemon hissed, breaking free from the hand that covered his mouth. He couldn��t stand the thought of sitting idly by.


    "Shh," the woman hushed him urgently, cing a finger to her lips. "They won''t kill a ve girl who��s useful."


    She moved swiftly, plucking a dress from the body of a woman whose head had been crushed and pulling it over Aemon��s frame. His silver-blonde hair, pale skin, and slender form could pass as a young woman��s. The middle-aged woman smeared dung across his face and arms, disguising him further, before pulling him close to her chest, cradling him like a child.


    Aemon was too stunned to resist, letting her work without protest. By the time he came to his senses, he found himself lying in the woman��s ample bosom, hidden among the group of terrified women.


    The fire had started to die down, and the chaotic sounds of battle began to fade.


    <em>Bang!</em>


    The pen��s fence was kicked open, and a group of blood-sttered Dothraki stormed inside.


    "Take all the ves," a hoarse voicemanded in Dothraki. "The ve traders in ver��s Bay are waiting."


    The Dothraki moved swiftly, binding the women and taking them away. The dead were left behind, their lifeless bodies scattered across the vige.


    ...


    In the blink of an eye, half a month had passed.


    ver��s Bay, Meereen.


    <em>Creak, creak!</em>


    The wagon wheels groaned as they rolled over the potholed road, each turn a jarring reminder of the journey��s harshness. At the front of the procession, the ve owner rode on horseback, asionally ncing back at the long line of captives trailing behind.


    Strong men, old men, and even children were bound in lines with rough hemp ropes, forced to carry loads alongside the wagons. The female ves were confined in iron prison carts, their hands tied, huddled together in groups. Dothraki riders nked the procession on both sides, their presence imposing as they waited to exchange "greetings" in the Free Cities. Trading, though despised by the Dothraki, was customarily referred to as "gifts" when dealing with ver��s Bay, a twisted reflection of their disdain for the act.


    Inside one of the prison carts, the middle-aged woman discreetly pulled out a water bag and whispered, "Drink, boy."


    Aemon, curled up in her arms, stared vacantly ahead, his eyes dull and lifeless. His ne had been lost, and Truefyre, the proud Valyrian steel sword of his house, was now a trophy in the hands of a Dothraki Khal. His former tribe had scattered to the winds. Khal Orka had been in in singlebat, and the once-thriving tribe of tens of thousands was absorbed into the horde of a new Khal, Khal Osk.


    ''I don��t even know if Leah is dead or alive,'' he thought bleakly, his spirit hollowed out. He didn��t drink from the offered water. He had longed to die with the pride of a dragonlord, not to be tossed from one cage to another.


    ��We��re nearly at ver��s Bay,�� the woman said softly. Aemon slowly lifted his stiff neck, catching a glimpse of the distant bronze Harpy statue that marked the city of Meereen.


    "Drink a little," she urged, her voice gentler this time. "Once we reach the city, we��ll have to part ways." She took a sip herself and, seeing his refusal, forced a mouthful of water into his dry throat.


    The half-month journey had been grueling, but her once-tattered linen skirt had been patched up, and she now seemed to find some measure offort crouching in the corner of the cart. Aemon coughed as the water went down the wrong way, his body weak from starvation and exhaustion.


    As he nced at the woman, a flicker of life reignited in his deste heart. Despite her ragged appearance, she carried herself with a quiet dignity. Her movements were graceful, deliberate, betraying none of the roughness of someone used to hardbor. She had once been someone respected, someone with status. The other Lamb Men women in the cart referred to her as the vige priestess.


    "Don��t look at me like that," she sighed, catching his gaze. "You saved me, so I��ll save you." Her tone was resigned, but from his position, Aemon could see the flicker of something darker in her eyes��a hatred that ran deep and unyielding.


    The Dothraki had ravaged her vige and herself, desecrated her altar, and smashed the sacred statues. She had endured unspeakable violence at their hands. Her calm fa?ade couldn��t hide the fury burning inside. How could she not hate them?


    As time passed, the ve caravan finally entered Meereen.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The procession came to a halt in front of the Great Coliseum. The Dothraki herders swiftly drove the ves out of the wagons, forcing them into a crowded mass. The ver, surveying the scene with indifference, barked orders: "The men will be locked up in the coliseum. The women will be taken to the square for trading."


    At hismand, the ve handlers moved quickly, sorting the captives like livestock. Men and boys were separated from the women, the scene a chaotic tangle of shouts and jostling bodies.


    In the middle of the crowd, Aemon could barely breathe, pressed in on all sides. The middle-aged woman who had been his protector pulled him close, hiding him in her arms. Her voice dropped to a whisper, "Stay quiet. Don��t let them notice you."


    With swift, practiced movements, she produced a dull knife and began cutting his long silver hair, strands falling to the ground. Not stopping there, she shaved his headpletely, erasing any sign of his noble lineage. She then ripped her ill-fitting linen skirt, fashioning it into a makeshift, ragged jacket for him.


    Aemon��s eyes widened in confusion, but before he could protest, the woman looked at him seriously. "Female ves have no good fate here," she said firmly. "You��ll be sent to the arena. That��s the only ce a boy might survive. It��s dangerous, but there, at least, you might have a chance to grow."


    Without another word, she shoved him into the line of male ves. Aemon stumbled, his heart pounding as the realization set in. She was right��his silver hair, the Dothraki��s reaction to him, the Valyrian steel sword, and the whispered usations of blood sorcery marked him as someone dangerous and valuable. Here in ver��s Bay, even someone with noble blood could be devoured by the evil that ruled this ce.


    Aemon tried to catch onest glimpse of the woman, but the crowd surged, pushing him further away. He opened his mouth to call out, but it was toote��she had disappeared into the sea of captives, lost to the chaos.


    The vers worked quickly, sorting the ves with brutal efficiency. By the time the sun began to set, the captives had been divided, assigned to different fates.


    ...


    Night had fallen, and thick clouds smothered the moon, leaving the world below in darkness.


    Beneath the Colosseum, in a damp, cold underground cell, Aemon sat huddled against the rough stone wall, hugging his knees. The cramped prison was packed with newly purchased male ves, all crammed together like cattle, their bodies pressed against one another in the suffocating space.


    <em>Tick, tock!</em>


    Water dripped from the ceiling, seeping through the walls and falling into Aemon��s calloused hands. He lowered his head, licking his dry, cracked lips, his throat parched from days of neglect.


    His gaze drifted upward toward the only opening in the cell��a small window, no bigger than a palm, offering a glimpse of the night sky beyond. Barely any light prated the gloom, but he couldn��t help staring, his thoughts wandering far from the stench of sweat, urine, and despair that filled the cell.


    The air was thick with the smell of suffering. He felt the restless bodies around him, the shifting of limbs, the quiet groans of the broken, the scent of filth invading his senses. It was suffocating. In this moment, the prophecy of the Witch came back to him with cruel rity.


    He was truly in ver''s Bay.


    The words of the witch echoed in his mind: <em>"Losing one dragon to gain another."</em> He understood now. His silver-blonde hair, once a symbol of his Targaryen blood, had been shaved to stubble, leaving his head cold and vulnerable. During the day, he was beaten, sold like an object with no value.


    The Trickster had died, saving him from the fall into the sea. Now, Aemon Targaryen had also died in this filthy ve prison. All that remained was Aemon, the ve.


    <em>''I have to survive,''</em> he told himself, his eyes hardening with a fierce determination. He tilted his head, trying to catch a glimpse of the moon through the dark clouds that covered the sky. He couldn��t let himself die here��not in the squalor, without dignity, not as one of the countless lost to misery.

 Chapter 679: A Moment of Tenderness

    Chapter 679: A Moment of Tenderness


    The North.


    The Wall.


    A horde of wildlings moved through the Wall, migrating in great numbers.


    Castle ck.


    In the wide courtyard, the new recruits of the Night''s Watch trained intensively.


    "Roar!"


    A yellow-eyed dragony prostrate outside the castle, shaking its head and roaring in protest.


    "Quiet, Syrax," the Dragonkeeper shouted, bundled in thick clothing and gripping a bamboo staff.


    A few charred goatsy scattered in the snow, still emitting ck smoke from the dragon��s mes."Roar!"


    Syrax narrowed its displeased pupils, turning its head like a stubborn child, then curled up into a ball on the scorched earth left by its own fire.


    It was November, and the climate in the North had grown increasingly harsh. Snow fell day and night, threatening to bury the courtyard walls.


    During the day, the temperature was bearable, but by night, the well water would freeze, and even the bacon hanging from the rafters would crack from the cold. Anyone bold enough to urinate outside would need a stick to break the ice afterward.


    "Eat, Syrax," the Dragonkeeper called again, his face grave.


    But the dragon remained unresponsive. Syrax pulled its wings over its head,rge, leathery membranes folding around its body, making it resemble a great mound of yellow jade.


    ...


    Inside Castle ck, the Night''s Watch was busy. The damaged buildings needed repairs, and the frozen well required heating.


    Supplies were dwindling. Meat had be scarce, leaving only turnips and cabbage as the primary food source. Even that wasn��t enough.


    The Night''s Watch, the Army of the Winter Wolves, the Unsullied, and thebined forces of the Seven Kingdoms... Thousands of soldiers had gathered, and their numbers continued to grow. The North could no longer sustain them with its own produce.


    "Your Grace, the supplies for this month have not arrived yet," Cregan reported respectfully, bowing his head in embarrassment.


    Rhaenyra sat in the Hall of the Night''s Watch, slowly rubbing her hands together. "Wait a little longer. I have already asked Maester Tru to send a raven to inquire," she said solemnly.


    "Yes, Your Grace," Cregan bowed even lower, catching a glimpse of the Queen from the corner of his eye. Her face, pretty but reddened from the cold, was framed by long eyshes now dusted with frost from the breath she exhaled.


    Despite being wrapped in thick clothing, she kept rubbing her hands for warmth. Seeing this, Cregan sighed inwardly. <em>The North is truly unforgiving.</em>


    Even with the royal family''s support, Castle ck��a key fortress��could not guarantee warmth for everyone. Most of the wood went to the brothers of the Night''s Watch stationed on the Wall, so they wouldn��t freeze in the bitter winds. If things were this harsh at Castle ck, it was hard to imagine the conditions for themon folk across the North.


    As they spoke, a cold wind started to howl outside.


    <em>Boom.</em>


    The wind, carrying curved snowkes, battered the wooden window panes of the hall. The frames rattled, revealing cracks where thin beams of sunlight slipped through. The dim hall briefly brightened, but the gusts sent chills through those inside.


    Strangely, the faint smell of ash lingered in the air.


    <em>Plop!</em>


    Rhaenyra suddenly looked up and rose from her chair.


    "Your Grace?" Cregan asked, puzzled.


    Rhaenyra smiled broadly, paying no mind to the heavy hem of her skirt dragging along the floor as she hurried out of the hall.


    <em>She could feel it.</em>


    ...


    Meanwhile, beyond the Wall, heavy, dark clouds stretched endlessly, hanging over the Wall like an enormous weight. A thick, coal-ck dragon��s tail descended from the sky, swirling the clouds and gathering them tightly.


    The Night''s Watch huddled beneath the Wall��s parapets, tending to the fire in the brazier. The mes flickered wildly in the gusts, the wind producing eerie, hollow sounds.


    "Roar!"


    The sound was as loud as rolling thunder, echoing for miles and shaking their eardrums. When one of the men looked up, he saw it��tragic green eyes emerging from the chaotic dark clouds above.


    "Land, Cannibal," came a familiarmand the next second.


    The massive beast, asrge as a mountain, plunged headlong through the clouds, its enormous wings casting shadows both inside and outside the Wall. The wind was so fierce that the Night''s Watchmen couldn��t lift their heads.


    With a rumble, the Cannibalnded, its three pairs of pale, curved horns bowed low as its wings folded back, shrouding its body.


    "Get some rest, mate," Rhaegar said with a slight smile, climbing down the ropedder from the thick neck of the dragon.


    "Your Grace! Your Grace!" Several Dragonkeepers stationed just outside Castle ck hurriedly stepped back, bowing in salute.


    The ck dragon��snding had triggered a massive avnche, nearly burying them in snow.


    "Prepare enough livestock for my dragon. It��s been through a lottely," Rhaegar said as he shook his head,nding on the snow. He ran a hand through his messy silver hair before heading toward Castle ck.


    The journey hadsted over a month��moving from the Fist of the First Men to Hardhome, from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, and back to Castle ck, following the wildling migration. The Cannibal was exhausted, having braved snow and wind to protect him throughout.


    Rhaegar shook the snow from his shoulders and noticed that his once-pristine ck cloak now had severalrge holes. Were it not for his noble demeanor, he might have looked like a ranger of the Night''s Watch returning from beyond the Wall.


    He let out a breath of steam, thinking to himself, <em>A warm bath and a hot meal sound perfect right now.</em> Life beyond the Wall was brutal, hardly fit for humans.


    He was walking with his head down when the sound of approaching footsteps made him stop.


    "Rhaegar!"


    The voice was filled with excitement and joy, barely contained. Rhaegar froze, his eyes widening in surprise as he looked up.


    Rhaenyra stood at the entrance to the courtyard, beaming at him.


    "Rhaenyra, why are you here?" Rhaegar asked, both surprised and delighted. He unconsciously quickened his pace.


    Rhaenyra broke into a trot, stepping through the muddy snow, and rushed toward him with open arms.


    Rhaegar smiled broadly, meeting her halfway. As they drew closer, the two silver-haired figures, both dressed in ck, embraced tightly.


    Rhaenyra was overwhelmed with happiness, her voice trembling slightly. "Let me see��are you hurt?"


    Still clinging to each other, they began to feel the outlines of the other��s body beneath their cloaks, both afraid he might be injured.


    "I''m fine, I''m fine," Rhaegar chuckled softly, burying his head in the crook of her fur-lined hood, holding her tightly.


    At sixteen, Rhaegar had already stood six feet tall; now, at six-foot-two (188 cm), he towered over her petite frame. In his arms, she barely reached his chest. He had to bend slightly to hold her properly, rubbing his cheek against her hair.


    "It''s so dangerous out there. I''m just d you''re back," Rhaenyra whispered, her eyes filling with tears as she stared at him tenderly. She cupped his cold, handsome face in her hands, unable to contain her emotions. On her tiptoes, she leaned up and quickly kissed him on the cheek.


    After the ident with her youngest son, Aemon, the concept of family had taken deeper root in Rhaegar��s heart. Her children were growing fast, but Rhaegar��s feelings for her had never changed.


    "No, we��ll face the difficulties together," Rhaegar said gently, pulling her back into his warm embrace. It was as soft andforting as ever, and Rhaenyra couldn��t resist burying her face into it.


    "Come on, I''ll get you something to eat," she said, blushing slightly. Rolling her eyes yfully, she linked arms with him, and they walked back together.


    ...


    "Roar!"


    Syrax, the golden dragon, poked its head out from between its wings, watching its rider walk away. It let out a puzzled sound, then turned back to the scorched goat in front of it. With a quick motion, the goat disappeared.


    <em>Hup!</em>


    The Cannibal��s miserable green pupils nced sideways at Syrax, and it stuck out its scarlet tongue to lick its maw, saliva dripping onto the snow. The snow instantly melted, leaving a scorched, withered patch.


    "Roar!"


    Terrified, Syrax quickly buried its head beneath its wings, like an ostrich hiding from danger.


    ...


    The siblings returned to Castle ck and entered the hall, hand in hand.


    "Your Grace."


    Ba approached them, surprise evident in her expression as she nced at the two of them.


    Rhaenyra smiled warmly and said, "Ba, go to the kitchen and ask the maid to prepare a meal to properly wee him home."


    "Yes, I''ll go right away," Ba replied with a smile and set off without hesitation.


    Though there wasn��t much meat in the kitchen��most of it reserved for the dragons��the king was here, and that meant there would be something to eat.


    Once Ba had left the room, Rhaegar wondered aloud, "Rhaena didn��te with her?" He was used to the sisters being inseparable.


    Rhaenyra guided him to sit down, her eyes never leaving his face. She spoke softly, "Rhaena has great administrative talent. She felt it was best to stay in Winterfell."


    Winterfell couldn��t be left unguarded, not with the North so unpredictable. Rhaena, quiet and gentle, was best suited for overseeing things behind the scenes.


    Rhaegar nodded in agreement. The North��s harsh climate made even the Wall colder than the rest of the region. An adult dragon like Syrax could manage, but the younger, weaker Morning might not fare as well in these conditions.


    <em>Knock, knock, knock!</em>


    The sound of knocking from the porch around the corner caught Rhaegar��s attention. He looked up to see a familiar figure standing in the doorway, her silver hair gleaming in the dim light.


    "Hena, you''re here too?" Rhaegar said, surprised, rising from his seat.


    "She��s been here for a while," Rhaenyra replied with a knowing smile, raising an eyebrow as she gently released his arm.


    "Brother..." Hena��s eyes sparkled as she stepped closer, her pace slow but eager.


    Upon hearing that Rhaegar had gone to the Wall, she hade at once, without pause. Along the way, she had a dream.


    In it, a pale figure stood at the foot of the Wall,manding an endless army of the dead to assault the stronghold. Dragons roared in the sky, their fiery breath raining down, and from some unseen vantage point, she saw the ground sshed with boiling Dragonblood.


    Rhaegar walked toward her, not allowing thoughts of Summerhall to distract him. In his eyes, the Seven Kingdoms were insignificantpared to an embrace like this.


    Hena was even more direct, flinging herself into his arms like a swallow returning to its nest. She clung to him, unwilling to let go, and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck before pressing her lips to his.


    Rhaegar smiled and epted the kiss, though he couldn��t help but chuckle softly. After a moment, he gently freed himself from her ko-like embrace.


    He sat back down, now nked by his sisters on either side. The warmth between them was undeniable.


    As they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder, and the emotions they shared now were far stronger than ever before.


    "Daemon is here too," Rhaenyra said suddenly, updating him on thetest developments. "Aegon and Aemond are patrolling the various strongholds along the Wall, and Daemon is training thebined forces of the kingdom."


    Apart from the heavy snow in the Vale, which had blocked the mountain passes, and Dorne, which was far away in the desert, only the army from the Westends had not yet arrived.


    The armies of the Crownds, the Rivends, The Reach, and Stornds numbered 30,000 strong��far more than thebined forces of the Night''s Watch, the Army of the Winter Wolves, and the Unsullied.


    "Daemon willmand the army. His leadership will help reduce friction between the different groups," Rhaenyra added.


    Rhaegar frowned slightly but then shared his own news. "Sea Snake is leading a 3,000-strong Valyrian army and staying at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea with Aunt Rhaenys."


    Each of the 18 strongholds along the Wall needed to be garrisoned. Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, located near the water, was especially vulnerable, with free folk often sneaking in by boat. If the White Walkers could cross the sea, Eastwatch would have to be defended by the strongest forces.


    "House Vryon is very reliable," Rhaenyra agreed.


    "But there are too many fortresses along the Wall. We''ve been discussing abandoning some of them," she added, referring to an ongoing debate.


    Hena, her chin resting on her hands, spoke dreamily, "Castle ck is the main target of the Others'' attack. The dead cannot cross the Wall." That��s what the prophecy had shown.


    Rhaegar looked thoughtful. "Abandoning some of the fortresses is the right choice. We can halve them, let the others freezepletely, and concentrate our forces on the key strongholds."


    The exits of unnecessary Night''s Watch fortresses would be sealed with ice, and thebined forces could focus their efforts. One objective was to fight the White Walkers; the other was to keep the free folk in check.


    <em>Creak!</em>


    Just as they were deep in conversation, the hall door opened. Ba entered carrying a tray of steaming food, pushing the door wide as she barged in. Behind her, Daemon followed, a smile on his lips.


    As soon as he stepped inside, he saw his nephew caught mid-conversation. More figures squeezed into the hall behind them: the rotund Maester Tru, Grey Worm in his ck armor, and��unexpectedly��a Child of the Forest.


    "A Child of the Forest?" Daemon nced at the figure, frowning instinctively.


    He remembered that these strange, ancient beings were not always friendly.


    Sniffing the air, the Child of the Forest leaned in close to Daemon, wrinkling her nose before stepping back with wary eyes. "You also know blood magic... and you smell like a dragon."


    This dragon scent was different from the other dragonborn at Castle ck. It resembled Rhaegar''s, who had been searching for ways to fight the White Walkers. It was a purer, more pungent smell, carrying a greater threat.


    "Stay away from me. I don''t want to step in a brown-green turd," Daemon sneered, cing a hand on the hilt of Dark Sister as he arrogantly circled around her. His fingers itched to draw the de, but he restrained himself.


    Meanwhile, Rhaegar was being served by the two sisters, not even needing to lift a knife or fork to eat.


    Henadled soup, blowing on it before gently pushing the spoon to his lips. Rhaenyra cut slices of roastmb, feeding him bite by bite.


    The way they doted on him made the children, watching from a distance, want to weep.


    The Child of the Forest observed the scene for a moment, then suddenly leaped onto the table, her excitement jangling through the air.


    Rhaegar nced at her, his expression stern.


    "We have to find the Heart Tree and the Greenseer!" she eximed anxiously. "I can feel it��the cold of the Others is nearing. We can��t dy any longer."


    Through the Weirwoods beyond the Wall and the power of Greensight, she could see the endless army of the dead spreading across thend. The White Walkers were advancing, and if they didn��t locate the Greenseer soon, it would be toote.


    Rhaegar, chewing on his mutton, swallowed a mouthful of soup without haste. He didn��t want to take the Child of the Forest''s warning seriously.


    Valyrian steel could kill White Walkers, and Dragonfire could decimate the army of the dead. As long as the Wall held��protected by its ancient magic��there was no real reason to panic. He believed they could withstand the invasion from within.


    The Heart Tree and the Greenseer? It all seemed like mystical nonsense to him, no more believable than the cryptic prophecies of the shadowy witch Quaithe. If he were to go on an adventure, he��d be more inclined to travel to Asshai to seek knowledge than venture beyond the Wall again. A ce steeped in magic and shadow was more likely to hold answers for fighting the Others than some ancient tree.


    "The White Walkers are growing in number," the Child of the Forest continued, her voice tinged with urgency and mystery. "This proves that the Night King may have awakened from the Land of Always Winter. The Greenseer knows secrets the world has forgotten. We need him."


    Rhaegar��s eyes narrowed. He had wondered the same thing for a long time. "Who is the Greenseer?" he asked warily. "Is it a person? A Child of the Forest? Or perhaps... a Weirwood?"


    "The Greenseer is dead," the Child said, catching Rhaegar by surprise. Then she continued, "But whoever finds the Heart Tree will be the new Greenseer��and lead mankind in the fight against the Others."

 Chapter 680: The White Walkers Invasion

    Chapter 680: The White Walkers Invasion


    Rhaegar��s face twitched slightly as he looked up, locking eyes with Daemon. The uncle and nephew exchanged a nce, both sharing the same skepticism about what the Child of the Forest had just said.


    The first thing that came to Rhaegar��s mind were the prophetic murals of Norvos, which foretold three distinct eras. The <em>Conqueror��s A Song of Ice and Fire</em> was also a prophecy tied to the Others. The legend of the Child of the Forest and the Greenseer''s prophetic powers had long been passed down, but how much of it was true?


    Rhaegar broke the silence, his voice measured. "The Greenseer is dead. Will there be a new one from your tribe?"


    "Not for now," the Child of the Forest replied regretfully, shaking its head. "We have not been recognized by the Heart Tree."


    Daemon��s eyes narrowed, his voice sharp. "Then what makes you think that if we find the Heart Tree, we��ll be Greenseers?"


    For a moment, the Child of the Forest was caught off guard, unsure of what to say. Instinctively, it responded, <em>"I was guided beyond the Wall to find a new Greenseer."</em>


    "By who?" Rhaegar and Daemon asked in unison, their voices firm.


    The Child of the Forest jumped down from the table, agitated, scratching its head and pacing in small circles. Its green eyes darted nervously as it muttered, "Who could it be?"


    Watching the creature��s uncertainty, Rhaegar raised his hand, gesturing to the others in the room.One by one, they left, leaving the Child of the Forest alone, still murmuring to itself��doubting her own words.


    ...


    It was night.


    On the second floor of Castle ck��s greenhouse, the cold wind howled outside, and snowkes pattered softly against the windowpanes. Inside, Rhaegary on a hard bed, wrapped in a goose-down quilt.


    "Do you think what Billbo said about the Greenseer is true?" Rhaenyra asked, her back to him as she prepared fruit wine at the small table.


    The room felt still and intimate. Hena had gone to rest early in the adjoining chamber, leaving just the two of them. Though Rhaegar and Rhaenyra shared a close bond, they still took turns with him for the night.


    "Maybe," Rhaegar mumbled, half-asleep, his eyes already closed.


    The Child of the Forest��Billbo, as they had begun calling it��was no mere creature. She hade entrusted with the remnants of a dying race, speaking of ancient magic that was difficult to grasp. The Heart Tree and the Greenseer felt distant and intangible.


    Rhaegar wasn��t entirely skeptical. He had once touched the twin Weirwoods in Highgarden and had felt a faint jolt of their magic. But with the Others threatening their very existence, now was not the time to venture beyond the Wall in search of fabled powers. His mind was set on a more cautious strategy��holding the Wall, testing the White Walkers'' strength bit by bit.


    <em>Knock, knock.</em>


    The quiet knock broke the stillness, followed by the sound of footsteps stopping just outside the door.


    Startled, Rhaenyra threw a thick cloak over her shoulders and went to answer. As she opened the door, Daemon stood leaning against the frame, his eyes downcast, flickering with uncertainty.


    "Daemon, what is it?" Rhaenyra asked, stepping aside as she nced back at Rhaegar, who was now awake, sensing the weight of his uncle��s visit.


    Rhaegar opened his eyes at the mention of his name, already guessing what had brought Daemon here at thiste hour.


    Daemon didn��t enter the room. He remained in the doorway, silent for a long moment before finally looking up. His voice was quiet but determined.


    "To defeat the White Walkers, we need the power of that prophecy."


    Having seen the prophetic murals of Norvos, Daemon had slowlye to believe in magic, more than he once had. The Greenseer... was worth seeking.


    "You''re convinced?" Rhaegar hesitated, his gaze steady on Daemon.


    Daemon shook his head slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Caraxes can fly over the Wall. Before the White Walkers invade, I''ll gather more knowledge."


    He didn��t trust the Child of the Forest, but he believed that the solution to the White Walkersy somewhere in the North. Caraxes was his best chance to cover ground quickly, and in a short time, he could aplish much.


    Rhaegar��s eyes flickered with contemtion. Daemon was undeniably a valuable ally, far more reliable than Aegon or Aemond in the fight against the White Walkers. The mystery of the Greenseer was tempting, and if anyone could find it, Daemon might be the one to seed.


    "Take this with you, Uncle," Rhaegar said, rolling out of bed and reaching for a pale horn. He tossed it to Daemon with a solemn expression.


    <em>Bang!</em>


    Daemon caught the horn effortlessly, holding it up to inspect it. "What is this, another oddity like the Dragon��s Horn?" he asked with a smirk. His good nephew always had a knack for strange artifacts.


    "The Free Folk call it the Horn of Winter. It��s a broken magical relic," Rhaegar exined seriously. "They say it can summon the sleeping giants beneath the earth. Better to have it with you."


    Rhaegar had blown into it once, and while its power remained a legend, he couldn��t dismiss its potential. The "sleeping giants" might refer to earthquakes of great magnitude. The ancient Children of the Forest had once shattered the Arm of Dorne with magic, possibly using something like the Horn of Winter.


    Daemon raised an eyebrow, surprised at the significance of the horn. It might actually be more useful than he��d first thought. He flipped it in his hand, then fastened it to his belt with a grin. "I��ll take the Child of the Forest with me. It won��t take more than three days to make the journey."


    "Be careful on the road," Rhaegar cautioned, offering his farewell.


    Daemon, always one to act swiftly, gave a curt nod and turned, leaving the room without a second nce. His nephew had already exined the weaknesses of the White Walkers. Armed with Caraxes and Dark Sister, Daemon felt prepared to face whatevery beyond the Wall, be it the White Walkers or the army of the dead.


    Once Daemon was gone, silence settled over the room.


    Rhaenyra hesitated, then asked, "Are you sure?" Her voice carried a note of concern��it was a dangerous mission, after all.


    "It��s fine. He��s Daemon," Rhaegar said, reclining back on the bed. His thoughts drifted to Asshai, wondering if that mysteriousnd held the true key to defeating the Others.


    <em>One should always be prepared for everything,</em> he mused.


    ...


    At dawn the next day, Castle cky buried under a thickyer of snow. The Night''s Watch trudged through snow-filled potholes, their footsteps crunching against the frozen ground.


    "Over here, bring the wood over here!" Rhaegar shouted, raising his hand to direct two giants hauling massive logs.


    Nearby, veterans of the Winter Wolf Army, bare-armed despite the cold, swung their axes at the trees with sharp, rhythmic strikes, the sound of metal against bark ringing out as they worked to build a new structure.


    Dozens of miles away, countless free folk poured into the forest, felling trees to carry back to Castle ck. The news of the closure of several fortresses along the Wall had spread, and hundreds of thousands of free folk had gathered near the castle, desperate to survive the biting cold. With no choice but to build settlements, they cut down the surrounding forest.


    <em>Boom! Boom!</em>


    The heavy footsteps of the giants reverberated as they worked alongside tamed mammoths, quickly piling logs in towering heaps. They moved with the efficiency of a well-organized construction team.


    Rhaegar oversaw the effort, his movements precise and focused. From behind, he heard hurried footsteps approaching through the snow.


    Ba appeared, her face flushed red from the cold wind. "Daemon has left," she announced breathlessly.


    She had gone to feed the dragons early that morning, only to discover that Caraxes was gone. Knocking on Daemon''s door, she had found no answer.


    "He''s busy, but he''ll be back soon," Rhaegar said, offering her a reassuring smile.


    But Ba bit her lower lip in frustration. "He didn��t even say goodbye to me." Her voice wavered with hurt. It was as if he had left without a second thought, forgetting that she was his daughter.


    Rhaegar sighed softly and ced aforting hand on her head. Daemon��s inarticte nature had always left a gap between them.


    Before he could say more, Cregan approached, his expression grim. "Your Grace, there��s something you need to see."


    Sensing the urgency, Rhaegar gestured for Ba to head back to Castle ck. "Go find Rhaenyra. Don��t dwell on it alone."


    Ba hesitated, then took a deep breath and turned to leave, her steps heavy in the snow.


    Rhaegar followed Cregan toward the winchdder, climbing up to the Wall. When they reached the top, a group of weary Night��s Watchmen awaited them, their faces pale and tense.


    On the frost-covered tilesy several frozen corpses, their bodies stiff and unmoving. Judging by their clothing, they were rangers of the Night��s Watch. The bodies were still intact, but their wide, frozen eyes were filled with terror.


    "They were found just outside the Wall this morning," said Old Benjicot, the Lord Commander of the Night��s Watch, his face grim. "I suspect the White Walkers are sending a message."


    The three rangers were part of a group that had gone missing several months ago. No one could exin how their bodies had suddenly appeared near the Wall.


    Rhaegar crouched down to inspect the corpses, his mind racing.


    "What did you find?" Cregan asked, curiosity flickering in his voice.


    "I''m not sure yet," Rhaegar replied, his eyes darkening slightly as he rose to his feet and unsheathed ckfyre. "Let me try."


    <em>Puff!</em>


    With three swift, precise strikes, Rhaegar drove the de through the hearts of each corpse. The sound was sharp and hollow, like piercing frozen meat.


    Suddenly, <em>Roar~~</em>


    The three corpses jolted upright, their fangs bared as their dark pupils shed an unnatural ice-blue. They let out a guttural roar filled with rage and resistance, then copsed back to the ground, stiff and lifeless.


    Their ice-blue eyes faded to gray, leaving them truly dead this time.


    Rhaegar calmly sheathed ckfyre, his voice steady. "It was the White Walkers. Take the bodies away and burn them."


    The gathered men were frozen in shock. For most of them, it was the first time they had seen the dead return to life��only to die again.


    Old Benjicot, the Lord Commander, swallowed hard before giving the order. "Take the bodies away," he instructed the Night''s Watch, his voice heavy. "The fact that the White Walkers could bring these bodies here means their army is close to the Wall."


    Rhaegar''s expression grew more serious as he addressed the men. "Prepare thoroughly. The underground passageways need to be frozen and sealed offpletely."


    He paused, then added firmly, "Increase the night patrols. Don��t skimp on the charcoal fires."


    ��Yes, Your Grace.��


    The White Walkers'' approach was inevitable. Rhaegar had long expected it.


    ...


    <strong>Fist of the First Men</strong>


    The avnche had buried the main road under heaps of snow, leaving only a few towering boulders exposed amidst the icy drifts.


    A faint sound...


    The dull, rhythmic thud of hooves on snow broke through the howling wind. Slowly, a frozen, rotting warhorse staggered forward, its decaying form nearly blending into the swirling snowstorm.


    On its back sat a pale figure, d in ancient, frost-covered armor, gazing coldly into the distance.


    "Whoa, whoa..."


    Two more rotting warhorses appeared, each carrying a white-haired wight. The undead riders halted behind the leading horse, their lifeless eyes fixed on the figure before them��the Night King.


    Expressionless, the Night King looked upon the snow that blocked the path ahead and slowly raised a hand.


    <em>H��</em>


    With a sudden rush, the snow exploded into the air, clearing the way. The Night King, still mounted on his decaying steed, waited motionlessly, holding the reins.


    After a brief pause, his sharp-nailed hand swung downward.


    "Roar! Roar!"


    From the foggy snowstorm, guttural, hoarse roars echoed. An uncountable army of the dead staggered forward, heads hanging like marites pulled by invisible strings.


    Without a flicker of emotion, the Night King calmly led the army onward, clearing the path through sheer numbers. The dead shuffled past, their movements stirring up snow and wind, blurring everything in sight.


    Then, the Night King lifted his head.


    A strange glint shed in his ice-blue eyes, which quickly turned a milky white. Visions swirled before him, like scenes projected onto a screen.


    "Roar..."


    In the vision, Daemon''s brow furrowed as he tugged on his saddle grip. Caraxes, undeterred, surged forward, its serpentine body folding into the mes of Dragonfire.


    <em>Poof!</em>


    The vision abruptly ended. The Night King''s eyes reverted to their chilling ice-blue, his expression unchanged. He turned his gaze northward, sensing something in the distance.


    <em>Trot, trot...</em>


    A White Walker approached, its skeletal hand resting on its chest as it rode up to him. The Night King nced at it, then raised a single finger, pointing north.


    Understanding the silentmand, it tugged on the reins, turning its horse and galloping toward the distant north, cutting through the tide of the dead like a ghostly rider.


    The Night King twisted his neck, his cold gaze once again fixed ahead. Without pause, he continued to lead his army of the dead forward.


    Their destination: The Wall.


    ...


    <strong>Two dayster.</strong>


    The Wall.


    Five kilometers from Castle ck, the edge of the Haunted Forest had receded, leaving the ground littered with felled trees.


    <em>Rumble, rumble.</em>


    Dark clouds, ck as coal, rolled slowly across the sky, shrouding the Wall in a heavy gloom. The earth trembled beneath the advancing storm, and wind and snow began to swirl, gradually enveloping thend.


    <em>Whoosh!</em>


    A horn sounded from atop the Wall, followed by three urgent bell tolls.


    The Night''s Watch sprang into action, lighting the smoke signal at the top of the Wall. Old Benjicot, wrapped tightly in a bearskin coat, quickly descended the windingdder to the winch and hurried to the watchtower.


    Peering out over the vastndscape, his heart sank as he saw countless figures emerging from the Haunted Forest, closing in on the base of the Wall.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    The advancing figures had grotesque, frozen faces, their bodies stiff, dressed in the tattered remains of once-living men. They shuffled forward like an army of the dead.


    "It''s the corpse army!" Old Benjicot Ko��s face went pale. He grabbed the bell ringer��s mallet and struck it hard, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Prepare for battle! The dead are upon us!"


    His shout echoed across Castle ck, igniting a frenzy of activity.


    The Army of the Winter Wolves, the Unsullied, and the Kingdom''s coalition rushed to the battlements, forming orderly lines behind the parapets, bows drawn, arrows notched, and stones ready to be hurled.


    Down below, the Night��s Watchmen moved quickly through the tunnels, carrying sealed kegs. Some were filled with fire oil, while others held the deadly wildfire, buried in beds of fine sand.


    <em>Rumbling and booming,</em>


    The army of the dead continued to close the distance, entering the one-kilometer range of the Wall.


    Suddenly, everything stilled.


    On the Wall, the allied forces held their breath, the weight of impending battle heavy in the air.


    <em>Clop, clop, clop...</em>


    A single rotting warhorse pushed through the ranks of the dead, stopping on a high ridge. The Night King sat upon it, his cold, ice-blue eyes fixed on the Wall. He raised a single hand.


    With that simple motion, the dead surged forward once more.


    Tens of thousands of wights elerated, charging toward the Wall in a suicidal rush.


    "Counterattack! Don��t let them get close!" Old Benjicot barked the order, his voice sharp.


    ming arrows shot down from the battlements, followed by a rain of fire from the allied forces. The night sky lit up like fireworks as rockets streaked through the darkness, showering the army of the dead in mes.


    <em>Pop! Pop!</em>


    Each rocket struck true, killing a wight on impact. But the horde behind pressed on, trampling over the fallen without hesitation, driven by a mindless rage.


    Despite the first wave of fire, more than half of the wights surged forward, breaking through the initial line of defense. They roared savagely, their jagged ws tearing at the frozen surface of the Great Wall, scraping away the fine frost with a sickening screech.


    As they wed at the ice, dense rolling rocks rained down from above, smashing the wights into bloody pulp. Flesh and shattered bones sttered across the ground, painting the snow in grotesque colors. Some of the undead found the entrance to the underground passages and pounded furiously on the frozen door, but it held firm, reinforced byyers of Dragonstone walls encased in ice, harder than steel.


    Watching from afar, the Night King remained unmoved. With a slow, deliberate motion, he raised his hand once more.


    From behind him, a White Walker stepped forward, gripping an ice-crystal spear. Leading the second wave, it charged ahead, and the undead army followed in unison.


    The Walkers moved swiftly, extinguishing the remaining mes left by the first volley of arrows. The allied forces fought back, unleashing a relentless barrage of arrows and rolling stones. Fire oil was poured down, igniting the battlefield, and the stench of burning flesh filled the air as scores of wights were cut down.


    <em>Plop!</em>


    The lead White Walker pushed aside the brainless undead in its path and advanced with purpose. The ice-crystal spear swung through the air, smashing anything in its way, reducing rolling rocks to powder.


    <em>ng!</em>


    The spear struck the ice wall of the Great Wall with brutal force. The White Walker��s ice-blue eyes gleamed with arrogance as it began climbing, using its hands and feet to scale the icy surface.


    Each time it ascended a few feet, it pulled the spear free and smashed another gap in the ice, making the climb easier for the undead swarming behind it.


    "Don''t let them get up here! Release the scythes!" Old Benjicot shouted, his voice tight with urgency as he drew his sword.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    Suddenly, a ck dragon as dark as night soared over the Wall, its wings blocking out the sky and scattering the storm clouds.


    "Dracarys!"


    Rhaegar''s eyes burned with intensity as hemanded from atop the great beast, gazing down at the swarming dead below.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    The Cannibal��s emerald-green pupils glinted menacingly as it dove, its massive throat rumbling with the heat of Dragonfire.


    In the next instant, a torrent of dark green Dragonfire poured from the sky, drenching the climbing wight in mes.


    The White Walker looked up just in time, its eyes wide with fury as the searing Dragonfire engulfed its body. It let out a final, agonized scream before melting into a pool of steaming ice water.


    The murky green fire cascaded like a waterfall, incinerating the army of the dead at the base of the Wall. In mere minutes, tens of thousands of wights were reduced to ash, their bodies copsing into smoldering heaps.


    The Cannibal snorted heavily, its wings spread wide as it glided low over the battlefield, clearing a path of destruction.


    Rhaegar remained firmly seated on the dragon��s back, his body tilting slightly with its movements, his eyes fixed on a pale figure on the distant slope. d in armor and crowned with a horned helm, the figure radiated a cold,manding presence.


    "Is that you?" Rhaegar muttered, his heart surging with murderous intent as he yanked on the reins, urging the Cannibal forward.


    Across the field, the Night King tilted his chin, studying the massive ck dragon with icy detachment. The scent of ash, more repulsive and dangerous than fire itself, filled the air.


    Without breaking his cold gaze, the Night King reached behind him and pulled the ice-crystal spear from his back. But instead of throwing it, he raised it high, pointing toward the sky.


    In response, half of the undead army split off, surging toward the towering Great Wall like an unstoppable tide.

 Chapter 681: The Night King’s Weakness

    Chapter 681: The Night King��s Weakness


    His army seemed endless, a relentless tide of the dead that surged forward like a sea, overwhelming everything in its path.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    One after another, dragon roars echoed through the skies as several great beasts soared into the air.


    "Dracarys, Dreamfyre!"


    The immense pale-blue dragon Dreamfyre leapt over the Great Wall, soaring like a cloud a hundred meters high, its fantastical mes interwoven with blue and white.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The ground below erupted,rge kes of snow exploding as the advancing army of ghouls came to a sudden halt.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    From the frost-covered city walls, a muddy, weathered dragon crawled forward, defiant. Sheepstealer leapt from the top of the Wall, oveing its barrier for the first time, and unleashed a torrent of thick, muddy Dragonfire.Syrax and Sunfyre followed, flying side by side, their golden mes raining down in unison.


    With a thunderous rumble, the four dragons attacked together, their Dragonfire tearing through the ranks of the undead like an unstoppable force. The mes carved deep ravines into the snowy ground, scorching the earth and reducing the ghouls to ash.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Above the Wall, a young light-green dragon circled anxiously, letting out a shrill cry. Ba pulled hard on the reins, urging Moondancer to join the fray. But the young dragon resisted, reluctant to cross the Great Wall��an unusual disobedience.


    Even so, the sheer number of dragons on the battlefield was enough to turn the tide. The army of ghouls faltered under the onught of fire.


    For the first time, the Night King''s expression changed. His ice-blue eyes narrowed, and a shadow of concern flickered across his face. His lips parted slightly, revealing white, frostbitten teeth beneath the fog of his breath.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    The Cannibal, ck as night, let out a long, fearsome howl. His massive body plunged downward like a meteor, his abyssal maw gathering dark-green Dragonfire. His menacing vertical pupils locked onto a lone figure standing on the distant slope.


    Rhaegar''s eyes, sharp as a falcon��s, fixed on the Night King. His voice was cold andmanding: "Dracarys!"


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The dark-green Dragonfire, thick as smoke and mist, came crashing down, enveloping the towering slope in a torrent of me.


    The Night King remained unmoved, his icy gaze locked on the man and the dragon above. As the Dragonfire hurtled toward him, he calmly raised his ice spear.


    A secondter, the Night King was swallowed by the Dragonfire, the mes spreading like a deadly mushroom cloud, scorching the snow and earth alike.


    For a moment, his figure blurred within the ze, the searing fire threatening to consume everything in its path.


    <em>��Did it work?��</em>


    Rhaegar rose cautiously from the back of the Cannibal, his eyes locked on the raging mes below. The dark-green Dragonfire roared, scorching the earth and cracking the frozen ground beneath it. If the figure trapped within the fire was the legendary Night King, this battle could be over in an instant.


    <em>To end the war, you must first kill the king.</em>


    Rhaegar''s heart raced. If the Night King fell here, the White Walkers'' invasion would copse. No creature should be able to survive such fierce mes. The figure had disappeared, seemingly consumed by the fire.


    <em>��Why didn��t he even try to avoid it?��</em>


    Each second stretched into eternity, and unease crept into Rhaegar��s mind. Something wasn��t right.


    And then it happened.


    <em>Whoosh!</em>


    A smooth spear of ice shot through the Dragonfire, slicing the air with lethal precision.


    <em>��Roar!��</em>


    The Cannibal��s green pupils contracted sharply, and the dragon twisted violently, pping its wings to narrowly avoid the spear. But the danger wasn��t aimed at the dragon.


    The spear had been aimed directly at the Cannibal''s neck. As the beast dodged, it grazed the dark dragon��s side, tearing through the air toward its rider.


    Rhaegar saw the glint of the ice spear reflecting in his eyes, and a chill swept over him. In less than a heartbeat, the spearhead was upon him, the cold biting into his skin.


    <em>��No way to avoid it.��</em>


    For an instant, his mind went nk. He ran through a dozen evasive maneuvers in his head, but none of them worked. The spear was too precise, its speed too great. One of them would fall.


    <em>Zero point one second left.</em>


    The icy spear hurtled toward him.


    <em>��I��ll give it a go.��</em>


    In ast-ditch effort, Rhaegar rolled sideways, gritting his teeth. His loose saddle straps saved him; his body was never tightly bound, allowing him to roll freely. He twisted, moving just enough to avoid a direct hit to his head or chest.


    <em>Pop!</em>


    Bronze scales suddenly covered his body, shattering part of the ice spear as it made contact.


    <em>Sizzle!</em>


    A transparent protective film appeared over his skin, slicing through the spear��s sharp tip with ease. The twoyers of defense bought him a fraction of a second.


    But it wasn��t enough.


    <em>Pop!</em>


    The spear pierced his right shoulder with brutal force, the impact throwing Rhaegar backward. He crashed onto the dragon��s back, his body mming into the saddle as pain shot through his limbs. His internal organs felt like they had been shaken loose from the force of the blow.


    Rhaegar hit the ground with a heavy thud, breathless, his vision swimming. His shoulder burned with pain, and cold sweat dripped down his face. Yet even through the agony, his mind remained sharp.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    The Cannibal let out a pained wail as dark-green Dragonfire spilled from its maw, wings beating furiously as it soared into the sky. The Ice Crystal Spear had pierced Rhaegar��s body and driven deep into the dragon��s dark scales.


    Rhaegar��s face turned deathly pale, his body pinned to the dragon��s back, head tilted, barely able to stay conscious.


    <em>Croak... hiss... buzz...</em>


    His mind felt like it had been struck by a sledgehammer, and his ears rang with a chorus of strange noises. The gray Dream Toad leapt onto his forehead, its green eyes rolling wildly. The Serpent and Bat Worm circled the wound, guarding him anxiously against the spear��s icy chill.


    The three Rune Creatures were restless, ck smoke rising from their bodies, all affected by the terrifying cold of the spear. Forced to materialize, they worked desperately to protect their master.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The Cannibal shot upward, diving headfirst into thick ck clouds, its form vanishing in the swirling darkness.


    <em>Whoosh!</em>


    Just as the dragon��s tail disappeared into the sky, a second Ice Crystal Spear struck, barely missing its mark. The spear grazed the Cannibal��s pitch-ck scales, but it was toote tond a direct hit.


    Down below, the Night King stood on the slope, his ice-blue eyes narrowing as he watched the dragon escape. A flicker of doubt crossed his cold expression. A White Walker stepped forward, offering him another spear. The Night King nced at it but made no move to pursue��the target had left his sight.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Across the battlefield, several dragons rampaged through the ranks of the undead, setting vast swathes of wights aze with their Dragonfire. The Night King��s gaze swept over each one, his eyes cold and calcting.


    ...


    Among the clouds, the Cannibal��s glowing green pupils burned with anger. The dragon paid no attention to the battle below, focusing instead on checking the condition of its rider.


    <em>Zla!</em>


    Rhaegar��s face was ashen, his left hand frozen solid as he gripped the Ice Crystal Spear embedded in his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, he began to pull the spear out, inch by excruciating inch. Frost had overtaken his hand, and the wound alternated between searing heat and freezing cold.


    No blood flowed from the wound; it had all been frozen into a solid clot by the spear��s icy touch.


    <em>��Ssshh... that was close,��</em> Rhaegar muttered, biting down hard as he yanked the spear free.


    <em>Pop!</em>


    The moment the Ice Crystal Spear was exposed to the air, it shattered into powder.


    <em>Coo... sssss...</em>


    The three Rune Creatures pounced on him, each using their own unique abilities to aid him. The Serpent inhaled deeply, sucking in the ck smoke surrounding Rhaegar��s body like a chimney, its dry belly nearly bursting. The frost on his wound began to melt, though it left behind an unbearable itch.


    <em>��What��s going on?��</em>


    Rhaegar nced down at his wound, now barely recognizable. His sharp instincts told him the wound wasn��t just physical��there was a chilling curse within it, sapping his vitality with every passing moment.


    The Serpent absorbed a wisp of the cold air, hanging on for dear life as it tried to contain the magic.


    Rhaegar frowned, tearing off a piece of cloth to wrap around the wound. With great effort, he hauled himself to his feet, his body trembling from the pain.


    <em>"Roar..."</em>


    The Cannibal arched its massive head, its green vertical pupils narrowing with tension. It could sense its rider��s distress, the pain coursing through Rhaegar��s body.


    "It��s fine. First, let��s deal with these demons."


    Gritting his teeth, Rhaegar forced himself back into the saddle. He had been careless, caught off guard by the Night King''s attack. But worse than the spear, was the realization...


    <em>��The Night King isn��t afraid of Dragonfire!��</em>


    His body stiffened, neck aching from strain, as he growled, "Let��s face him again, Cannibal."


    The Night King��s immunity to both Dragonfire and ice had turned him into an even greater threat. Rhaegar knew he had to hold him off, to prevent the danger from reaching Rhaenyra and the others.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    The Cannibal��s pupils narrowed further, its wings pping with renewed intensity as it lowered its head, exuding a powerful, acrid smell of ash.


    <em>Rumbling...</em>


    From above, the ck dragon swooped down, spewing dark green Dragonfire that swept across the battlefield in a devastating arc. The mes seemed unending, carving a deep furrow toward the towering slope where the Night King stood.


    Sensing the growing threat of the ash-tainted mes, the Night King turned his gaze skyward, locking eyes with the silver-haired figure atop the dragon.


    Rhaegar, suppressing the tremors in his body, flipped his left hand and retrieved a spear. The spear, forged in Valyria, gleamed coldly in his grip.


    <em>��Let��s see if the Night King truly has no weaknesses.��</em>


    If the Night King dared to stand his ground, Rhaegar would pierce his chest with the spear <em>Dawn.</em>


    This time, the Night King finally moved. He slid off his rotting horse and strode forward, his long strides carrying him toward the ckened pit where the Dragonfire raged.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    The Cannibal descended, its dark green Dragonfire sweeping the ground. In an instant, the rotting horse and the pale White Walker at the Night King��s side were incinerated, reduced to nothing but ash.


    "Retreat, Cannibal!" Rhaegarmanded in High Valyrian, his eyes shing with caution. The Night King had vanished into the Dragonfire, and Rhaegar didn��t intend to repeat his mistake.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The Cannibal, half-airborne, surged back into the sky, its massive body flying high. Unwilling, it nced back at the battlefield below, its green eyes filled with lingering fury.


    At that moment, a sudden change rippled across the battlefield.


    <em>tter!</em>


    Half of the dead copsed where they stood, falling into heaps that piled up like a grotesque mountain of the dead. As if responding to an unseenmand, the remaining White Walkers retreated swiftly, vanishing into the depths of the Haunted Forest.


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Dreamfyre��s pupils narrowed as it relentlessly pursued the fleeing wights, mes pouring from its jaws, disying the full destructive power of a mature dragon. The other three dragons followed closely behind, clearing away the remnants of the undead army in a zing sweep.


    <em>Roar...</em>


    Meanwhile, the Cannibal veered in the opposite direction, descending toward the Wall. Its massive feet mmed down on the frozen ramparts, the impact shaking the ice-crusted stones.


    Rhaegar, beads of cold sweat trickling down his forehead, reced his spear with a ck horn, twice the size of his arm.


    <em>Wo...</em>


    A deep, sonorous st echoed from his lips as they touched the dragon horn. The sound resonated across the battlefield, causing the dragons to slow their pursuit and turn back.


    Gritting his teeth, Rhaegar tightened his grip on the saddle, his gaze fixed on the ckened pit where the Night King had vanished.


    <em>��Has that half-human, half-demon creature fled?��</em>


    After their second encounter, Rhaegar understood the Night King��s true intentions. The attack on the Wall had been a diversion��a mere test. Had Rhaegar not fought with every ounce of strength, the Night King would have pressed further. It was a probe to measure Rhaegar��s resolve.


    <em>Hoo!</em>


    A cold wind swept across the battlefield, carrying the acrid scent of burnt ash. The remaining wights retreated beyond the Wall, scrambling back into the Haunted Forest, leaving nothing but silence in their wake.


    The deep pit behind the slopey still, void of any movement. Rhaegar exhaled slowly, his chest tight with tension.


    <em>��It was gone?��</em>


    <em>Roar!</em>


    Dreamfyre��s roar broke the stillness as it turned back toward the Wall, its light blue wings beating against the cold air.


    From atop her dragon, Hena��s clear eyes noticed Rhaegar��s pallor.


    "Retreat, Sheepstealer," Aemond called, tugging on the reins andmanding the stubborn Mud Dragon to turn back.


    The battle was over. The threat had receded��for now.


    The low st of the Dragon��s Horn echoed once more, signalling the recall of the dragons.

 Chapter 682: Daemon Finds The Heart Tree

    Chapter 682: Daemon Finds The Heart Tree


    It was night, and the cold wind bit into the air. The Wall stood aze, illuminated as brightly as day. Beyond its perimetery the smoldering remains of the dead, charred and twisted. It looked as though mes from purgatory were still rising from the earth.


    <strong>Great Hall, Castle ck.</strong>


    "The Night King has escaped, and no one knows where he''s gone," Aemond said, his voice grim, radiating a coldness that kept everyone at a distance.


    "We should be grateful we managed to drive off the White Walkers," Roderick Dustin dered in his gruff voice, pacing the hall. His heavy footsteps echoed off the stone walls.


    Cregan Stark sat with the lords of the North, nodding in agreement. The memory of the White Walkers�� invasion was still fresh��an army of darkness, the pale White Walkers themselves fearless and relentless. Without the dragons in the sky, it was hard to imagine the Wall holding against such an unstoppable force.


    Aemond snorted, clearly unimpressed by any talk of relief.


    At the head of the hall, Rhaegar sat silently, his head bowed.


    "The wound is stubborn. You must be careful," Maester Tru said, his rotund figure bent over as he examined the king��s shoulder. An ice spear had pierced through, fracturing the bone and tearing the muscles. The wound refused to heal, as though some unknown force lingered within it, and Rhaegar��s entire right arm had turned pale and bloodless.


    "Besides the wound, is there anything else?" Rhaenyra asked softly, half-squatting beside him, her hands gripping his trembling arm.Rhaegar��s eyelids drooped. An unnatural flush had spread across his face, and his body shook uncontrobly. His breath was hot andbored.


    "I��m fine. Just a minor issue," he muttered, his voice raspy as he struggled to control his breathing. The wound had gone numb, leaving him with no feeling in his arm. But his body��s abnormalities were growing clearer, like a cold that crept deeper each moment.


    For a Targaryen, however, this was unnatural. They were known for their resistance to illness, especially colds. Rhaegar had never even caught a cold in his life.


    Rhaenyra��s gaze fixed on Maester Tru, her eyes full of worry. The maester wiped sweat from his brow, hisrge sleeves trembling as he dabbed his forehead. He hesitated before speaking. "Your Grace��s symptoms resemble the tremors that gued the realm during the Old King��s time."


    "Can it be cured?" Rhaenyra��s voice tightened, her concern palpable. Medicine in Westeros was rudimentary at best��thanks only to the Citadel, it barely matched the knowledge of Essos. Many illnesses, especially the more obscure ones, were considered terminal.


    Grayscale, puerperal fever, and shivering sickness were some of the most feared.


    Maester Tru shook his head gently, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Shivering sickness was a mysterious illness that emergedst century. It gradually vanished, but only after most of the infected had sumbed."


    The Citadel still knows very little about it.


    Daenerys Targaryen, eldest daughter of the Old King, was taken by it when she was barely seven or eight. Despite being carefully raised, she never survived.


    Rhaenyra��s eyshes fluttered, her face pale with fear as she looked up at Rhaegar. Though he appeared calm, there was an unspoken tension in the air.


    Rhaegar nced at his wound. Slowly, ayer of translucent film spread over his body, covering the wound and the right side of his body. It was the shimmering skin of a sea dragon.


    <em>One knows their own body best,</em> he thought grimly.


    <em>''Open the system panel.''</em>


    [Rhaegar Targaryen]


    Talents: Dreamer (Gold)


    Bloodline: Dragonborn (64%) �C <em>Frozen</em>


    Runes: Bronze (Green) [Broken], Serpent (Blue), Dream-Eating Toad (Purple)


    Blood Sorcery: Bat Worm (Blue), Dance of Dragons (Purple)


    Relics: <em>Fire and Blood</em>, <em>Dreamscape</em>, <em>Protection of the Sea Dragon</em>


    Special Items: Ne of Space, Dragon''s Horn (Exclusive)


    Assessment:


    <em>The ice magic is eroding you, and your blood is gradually losing its warmth.</em>


    ''My bloodline is eroding'' There''s something wrong with the root,'' Rhaegar muttered under his breath, feeling the chill creeping through his veins. It was a sensation unlike anything he��d ever experienced before��a negative state that had never gued him.


    The Bronze Rune waspletely shattered, and the Sea Dragon''s protective skin was damaged, reducing its effectiveness against threats.


    <em>It��s all from that cursed ice magic on the spear,</em> Rhaegar thought grimly. Knowing the cause, he picked up a bandage, intending to wrap the wound himself.


    "Your Grace, please��" Maester Tru rushed forward, attempting to stop him.


    "Just wrap it. Don��t be nervous." Rhaegar��s voice was calm, but it held a finality that left no room for argument.


    He refused any medication, knowing ordinary remedies couldn��t heal the effects of the Night King''s dark magic. The source of his condition was beyond the reach of typical cures.


    "But your condition��" Tru hesitated, his anxiety growing as he saw the pallor of the king��s face, the involuntary tremors shaking half his body. How could a simple bandage suffice?


    Rhaegar��s cold re silenced him, a low <em>hmm</em> escaping from his throat.


    Reluctantly, Maester Tru obeyed, quickly bandaging the wound, tying the bandage into a neat bow, though his face twitched with worry.


    Rhaegar tested his right hand, trying to clench his fist. There was a response, but it was sluggish, as if something within him was fighting for control. His hand shook uncontrobly, disobeying his will. Whether it was a tremor or a deeperplication, he couldn��t tell.


    "How do you feel?" Rhaenyra asked, her voice trembling with concern as she held his other hand tightly.


    "I��m fine," Rhaegar replied, his voice steadier than his body. He twisted his neck, then forced himself to stand, rising from the chair with effort.


    "Be careful," Hena��s soft voice broke the silence, her fair face creased with concern as she rushed forward to help steady his arm.


    Rhaegar shook his head gently, whispering, "Don��t show weakness."


    With his left hand, he gently pushed away her touch, his expression firm. He gave a quick nce to Aegon and Aemond across the hall, signaling for them to follow his lead. Turning away, he guided his sisters from the table, his movements purposeful.


    <em>If there��s a problem, solve it. If the bloodline is weakening, find a way to break the curse.</em>


    He knew better than to discuss such matters in the open, especially in front of vassals. Exposing his vulnerability would shake the morale of those who depended on him.


    On the way back to his chambers, Rhaegar kept his head down, deep in thought. The image of the Night King, powerful and untouchable, weighed heavily on his mind. Dragonfire had failed to harm him, which meant the only option left might be directbat.


    With a Valyrian steel sword, perhaps he could find the opportunity to kill him. But his right hand remained cold and numb, affecting his ability to think clearly.


    Raising his hand, Rhaegar��s purple eyes shed with determination. If he was going to defeat the Night King, he would need to bridge the gap in knowledge and strategy.


    Daemon was already on his way to find the Heart Tree and the Greenseer, but that might not be enough.


    <em>Should we prepare for something more?</em> Rhaegar��s mind wandered to the enigmatic witch Quaithe, her cryptic warnings echoing in his thoughts. <em>Perhaps in Asshai, there��s a way to undo the Blood Sorcery that has frozen my bloodline.</em>


    The illness couldn��t be allowed to fester. If left unchecked, it would consume him.


    And that, he realized grimly, was exactly what the Night King would want.


    ...


    The night grew darker over the Haunted Forest. Beneath the shadowy canopy of trees, the army of corpses surged forward in thick, unrelenting waves.


    A bright moon broke through the dark clouds, casting a pure white arc of light over the snow-covered ground.


    The Night King strode ahead, his face expressionless and cold. His pale skin remained unscathed, untouched by battle, but his ancient silver-grey armor was ckened by Dragonfire.


    Behind him, the dull thud of footsteps echoed through the forest. The Night King''s sharp ears caught the sound, and he nced back.


    A pale White Walker had stopped, kneeling on one knee. His wrinkled face was solemn, his expression determined��he was silently asking for permission to continue the assault on the Wall.


    <em>Ha...</em>


    The Night King��s lips parted slightly, and a cold mist of white frost escaped from his mouth. His ice-blue eyes, gleaming with cold wisdom, met the White Walker��s gaze. Slowly, he raised one sharp finger and shook it gently, a silent refusal.


    He exuded an air of grace and authority, as dignified andmanding as the ruler of the night.


    The White Walker frowned, rising to his feet without protest.


    The Night King turned, his gaze shifting toward the distant east. His sharp finger pointed in that direction, toward Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.


    There were too many dragons at Castle ck, too many threats to his forces. But Eastwatch was different��sparsely popted and a potential blind spot for a new assault.


    Without rest, the army of White Walkers continued their march, a silent and relentless procession in the dead of night.


    The Night King led them, his movements steady, though his gaze briefly flickered to the north.


    The sky was dark and starless, offering no guidance. He stared at it for a moment, as if calcting, weighing the pros and cons of his next move.


    ...


    <strong>Two dayster.</strong>


    The Haunted Forest, far north beyond the Fist of the First Men, stretched for thousands of miles, running from the south to the frozen north. In thend near the Milkwater River, light snowkes drifted down, cold enough to raise goosebumps on the skin.


    "Roar..."


    A huge, scarlet serpent-like creature weaved through the trees, gliding on its wide, leathery wings. Its long, sinuous tail swayed, sweeping ice crystals from the pale tree canopies.


    "Land, Caraxes!"


    Amand, sharp and maic, cut through the air, followed by a dragon��s roar that echoed like a wave of sound.


    Daemon Targaryen sat atop the great beast, d in ck steel armor, his dragon-winged helmet adorned with a blood-red mane. His expression was cold, eyes locked on the rolling mountains below.


    The jagged peaks converged into a narrow valley, where a branch of the Milkwater River trickled through. Something caught Daemon��s eye��a sh of red, faint and distant. The color of Weirwood.


    "Quickly, that''s it," came a small, excited voice.


    The Child of the Forest peeked out from behind Daemon, her pretty face lit with excitement.


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes let out a shrill, melodious cry as he descended, cutting through the air like a bolt of scarlet lightning. His hind legs folded inward as hended with a heavy thud, sending snow flying in all directions.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The valley shook as the dragon��s massive body touched down. Daemon wasted no time, leaping from Caraxes'' back. Drawing Dark Sister, he strode forward with purpose.


    In front of him, deep in the valley, stood a Weirwood tree. Its wide canopy spread like a red umbre over the ck tundra, glowing faintly in the snowy haze. After three days and two nights of flight, he had finally found it.


    "Wait for me."


    The Child of the Forest darted ahead, bending low to sniff the ground with her keen senses. But as she sniffed, her expression grew increasingly uneasy.


    The valley grew eerily silent. The snow underfoot shifted slightly, almost imperceptibly.


    Daemon''s sharp instincts kicked in. His earlobes twitched, and he scanned the surroundings warily.


    Suddenly, the Child of the Forest screamed in horror, "Watch your step!"


    In the next instant, the snow caved in, and a decayed hand shot out from beneath the surface, clutching at Daemon��s ck boots with red stripes. It shook violently, trying to drag itself upward.


    Daemon��s eyebrows shot up, his senses now fully alert as a chorus of faint, unsettling noises began to echo around him.


    <em>Puff, puff, puff!</em>


    The snow crumbled away, revealing the grotesque remains of the dead. Armor-d skeletons, decaying corpses, broken bones, and severed limbs��countless dead wed their way up, roaring as they lunged at Daemon.


    "Ghostly things... have you followed me here?"


    Daemon��s expression turned cold. With a swift motion, he swung Dark Sister, severing the rotting hand that gripped his boot at the wrist.


    Within moments, hundreds of dead rushed toward him, but Daemon remained calm. His sword danced through the air, an imprable blur of steel. In the art of swordsmanship, there few equal to him in the Seven Kingdoms��especially not among mindless undead.


    <em>Clop, clop...</em>


    A rotting warhorse stepped from the shadows, standing atop the high valley cliff. Atop it, a pale White Walker tightened the reins, its ice-blue eyes fixed on Daemon. After a moment, its gaze shifted toward the Child of the Forest, who was crouched in the corner.


    Without a word, the White Walker drew an ice-crystal spear from its back, silently aiming it at the small figure.


    <em>Shhhhhhhh!</em>


    The crackling sound of wildfire filled the air, but more wights burst through the mes, their eyes locked on the weakened Child of the Forest.


    <em>Huh?</em>


    The noise caught Daemon��s attention mid-battle, and he nced over just as danger loomed.


    "Roar..."


    A piercing dragon roar echoed through the valley. Scarlet Dragonfire split the sky, carving a line of me across the battlefield.


    Caraxes��s fierce pupils burned with rage as the dragon slithered forward like a serpent, wings beating, spewing fire across the undead ranks.


    "Burn them all��leave none behind," Daemonmanded coldly, moving closer to his dragon.


    Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glint of something in the valley. The White Walker, holding an ice spear, stood poised, the spearhead reflecting the pale light of the sun.

 Chapter 683: The Premonition of the Greenseers

    Chapter 683: The Premonition of the Greenseers


    Daemon spotted the White Walkers in the distance, and they were watching him in return. A tall, pale figure dismounted from its horse, pointing provocatively at the ice crystals on its spear. With unblinking ice-blue eyes, it seemed to issue a silent challenge to the humans.


    The roar of the undead army drowned out the howling wind and snow. Daemon regarded them coldly, his sword shing as he swiftly beheaded two corpse ghosts, advancing steadily into an open area.


    <em>So, they''re White Walkers, are they?</em> Daemon thought, <em>I''ll just have to see how good they are.</em>


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes stretched its long neck, releasing a torrent of Dragonfire that zed across the battlefield, cutting off the White Walkers'' advance. Meanwhile, the Child of the Forest darted along the mountain wall, shing at the undead with ws and teeth.


    Beneath the ancient Weirwood tree, Daemon stood solemnly in the shade, where not a single red leaf remained.


    Tap, tap...


    The White Walker strode forward, itsrge, bare feet stamping on the frozen ck soil, closing in on its prey.


    "Uglier up close, you damned thing," Daemon sneered, his eyes scanning for an opening to strike.The White Walker��s expressionless face remained menacing as it lowered its spear of ice crystals. If it attacked with the same rhythm as before, it would surely shatter Daemon''s weapon.


    ng!


    Daemon raised his sword to block the attack, shards of ice scattering and dazzling his eyes. As his nephew had once told him, Valyrian steel could indeed counter the White Walkers. The creature''s surprise flickered as its weapon was stopped.


    "Haha, I underestimated you," Daemon smirked, giving a devilish grin. With a sudden lunge, he mmed his shoulder into the White Walker��s chest.


    The Walker attempted to retreat, but its spear was tangled with Daemon��s de, leaving it unable to move. Frustrated, it let go of the spear and swung its fist at Daemon.


    Bang!


    Daemon��s shoulder collided with the creature��s chest, forcing it back two steps. The White Walker was unnaturally strong, but it managed to steady itself, nting its feet firmly on the ground. Daemon��s eyes locked on his enemy��s, his wrists twisting as he angled his sword downward. He gripped the hilt tightly and drove the de toward the Walker��s abdomen.


    The White Walker reacted quickly, crossing its arms to block Daemon''s strike. The de halted just inches from its pale skin.


    "You��re finished," Daemon dered, his voice low. Suddenly, he loosened his grip on the sword, letting his right hand slip through the creature��s defenses to reim the hilt.


    The White Walker hesitated, stunned by the maneuver.


    With a cold, metallic sound, Daemon thrust the Dark Sister forward. The de pierced the Walker��s abdomen as if cutting through paper. The creature opened its arms, as if preparing for onest counterattack, but Daemon was quicker. He stepped back, his movements as swift as a cheetah, and plunged the sword again��this time through its heart.


    "A fool with power. I could beat ten like you with my bare hands when I was sixteen," Daemon scoffed, his gaze dripping with contempt. He twisted the hilt slowly, savoring the moment.


    Pop!


    The White Walker disintegrated into a fine powder, vanishing as if it had never existed.


    "So much for that," Daemon grinned, tossing the lithe Dark Sister from hand to hand. He was as bloodthirsty as ever and never showed a hint of hesitation.


    At the mouth of the valley...


    Boom! Boom!


    The Child of the Forest darted frantically, pursued by an army of dead. Just then, an explosion thundered behind him.


    At the mouth of the valley...


    Boom! Boom!


    The Child of the Forest darted frantically, pursued by an army of Orcs. Just then, an explosion thundered behind him.


    "Don��t be afraid, Billbo!"


    A dozen small, brown-skinned Children of the Forest suddenly appeared, their hands filled with pumpkin-shaped bombs. With swift precision, they hurled them into the midst of the wights.


    The sts tore through the enemy, scattering limbs and bones across the battlefield. One of the dead was blown apart mid-lunge, its jaws snapping uselessly in the air.


    "You��ve finallye!" Billbo cried, overjoyed to see her long-lost kin.


    With the reinforcements joining the fray, the army of undead quickly crumbled, bing nothing more than vulnerable, shattered remains. After a relentless barrage, the valley floor was littered with broken limbs and charred remains.


    Billbo rushed to join the others when, suddenly, a skeletal hand shot up from the snow and mped onto her ankle.


    "Arba, Arba!" she screamed.


    The snow burst open, and a half-destroyed skeleton struggled upright. Another skeleton, nearby, retrieved its fallen skull, cing it back on its neck. The reassembled figure exuded an eerie ferocity, its bony jaws snapping down on Billbo''s ankle.


    Billbo��s eyes widened in terror as she kicked wildly, trying to shake off the undead grip.


    Pat!


    Before he couldnd another kick, the skeleton crumbled to dust. The few wights still struggling nearby also fell still, their eerie glow fading.


    "Roar..."


    Caraxes climbed the steep cliff, its sharp teeth mped around the remains of a corpse. Its long neck coiled as its fierce, vertical pupils scanned the valley below, eyeing the diminutive Children of the Forest with suspicion.


    Billbo looked up, her expression lighting up with excitement. High above, Daemon strode leisurely up the cliff, Dark Sister in hand. His figure ovepped with that of the Blood Wyrm, the two appearing almost as one. A ray of sunlight illuminated the corner of his eye, revealing the slight wrinkles of age, but his strength remained undiminished by time.


    "Strange creatures, you came out of this cave, didn��t you?" Daemon called down, his sword pointing toward a narrow cave opening in the cliff.


    ...


    The dark cave was filled with a strange warmth, a gentle current of air moving through it. Daemon followed the Children of the Forest, holding a torch in one hand. An older female Child led the way, her expression serious as she spoke.


    "The White Walkers appearedst night," she exined. "We had to hide."


    Daemon furrowed his brow, still unsure why the White Walkers had been drawn to the area. He suspected it had something to do with the Heart Tree.


    "Just tell me where the Heart Tree is and how I can be the Greenseer," he demanded, growing impatient. He nced around the dark, cramped space, his eyes flicking between the strange, squirrel-like people who spoke in whispers.


    "The Heart Tree is just ahead," the elder Child said, pausing to nce back at Daemon. Her voice grew more serious. "But whether you can gain its approval depends on your ability."


    With that, she dismissed the rest of the tribe, leaving only herself, Daemon, and Billbo to press on. The three made their way through the twisting, dark tunnels of the cave. Suddenly, the passage opened up.


    Before them was a massive cavern bathed in sunlight streaming through a hole in the ceiling. In the center stood a towering Weirwood tree. Its pale trunk gleamed in the light, while its vast canopy stretched out beyond the cave. Tangled roots coiled across the ground, clutching the dark soil below.


    The Heart Tree awaited.


    ��This is the Heart Tree,�� the older Child of the Forest said, her voice filled with awe as she gazed up at the towering Weirwood. ��Touch the trunk, and you will receive guidance.��


    She made it clear, however, that it was <em>guidance</em>, not a guaranteed inheritance.


    ��You both, step back,�� Daemon ordered, ncing at the two Children of the Forest. ��Caraxes is outside, and it will eat anything in its path.��


    Billbo didn''t argue. He stepped back obediently, eyeing the massive red dragon lurking beyond the trees. The elder Child gave Daemon a look, something unreadable in her eyes, and whispered, ��Be careful.��


    Daemon, who often seemed reckless, took note of the fleeting expression on her face as he approached the Weirwood. The trunk was massive, its girth so wide that several people together could barely wrap their arms around it. Its thick, gnarled roots pierced through the dry rock, bulging as if suppressing ancient spirits desperate to crawl out of some long-forgotten purgatory.


    Daemon climbed onto a rock, standing directly before the Weirwood. Its pale bark was carved with a face that seemed to pity the world, bright red sap streaming from the corners of its eyes like tears, weeping for a disaster yet toe.


    ��What exactly are your powers?�� Daemon muttered, his sharp eyes glowing with curiosity as he reached out to touch the bark. It felt rough beneath his hand, the sticky sap clinging to his skin.


    He closed his eyes, focusing inward, instinctively tuning into the fire magic pulsing in his blood.


    A deep, humming sound vibrated through his mind. Suddenly, the world began to spin, dizziness overtaking him.


    <em>What��s happening?</em>


    Daemon tried to open his eyes, but the words lodged in his throat. The scene around him shifted violently, reality turning upside down. The Weirwood disappeared, reced by visions��wild and disjointed.


    The Three-Eyed Crow, the Night King leading an army of ghouls... He saw it all. Events that were unfolding, events that connected to him, and events that <em>might</em>e to pass.


    Boom!


    The body of a pale dragon crashed into the snow, its lifeless form sprawled across the frozen ground. Blood dripped from its mouth, hot against the cold, stark white of the snow.


    Shocked, Daemon instinctively stepped closer to get a better look, but in an instant, the world shifted again. The sky flipped, and he plunged into icyke water, his lungs filling with freezing liquid. Panic surged through him as he coughed, bubbles rising to the surface.


    The sensation of suffocation gripped him for a moment, but as quickly as it came, it passed. Theke froze solid, transforming into an endless snowfield.


    Puff!


    Arge, dragon-ringed hand burst through the snow, struggling to pull itself free. Daemon gasped, his head breaking the surface of the snow. Hey there, breathless, his heart pounding in his chest. All around him, a battlefield stretched on, littered with corpses and drenched in blood. ckened scorch marks marred the ground from where mes had once roared.


    Pop!


    Just as Daemon began to make sense of the vision, the image shattered like fragile ss.


    He found himself back under the Weirwood tree, its pale trunk looming above him once again.


    ��Ahhh!�� Daemon''s eyes snapped open, a growl rumbling from his chest.


    ��What did you see?�� The older Child of the Forest stood nearby, her gaze sharp with expectation.


    ��What? What?�� Daemon gasped, still catching his breath. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his body trembling slightly. What he had just experienced felt like dying anding back to life.


    ��This concerns the future,�� the Child pressed, her voice urgent.


    Suddenly, a new voice echoed through the cave, drawing Daemon��s attention. A fourth figure stepped forward��a male Child of the Forest, stocky and dressed in tattered armor, with a helmet crowned by antlers. He held a spear, its stone tip crudely bound to the shaft.


    Daemon gathered his thoughts, steadying his breath as he felt the weight of their expectant gazes.


    ��I didn��t see clearly,�� he muttered, trying to collect himself. ��I��ll take another look.��


    Without hesitation, he gritted his teeth and ced his hand once more on the sorrowful face carved into the Weirwood. He wasn��t convinced that he had inherited the Greenseer��s legacy. What he had seen were fragmented premonitions��visions, but not the full inheritance. <em>If that''s all it was... why not look deeper?</em>


    Hum!


    That same familiar dizziness washed over him, but this time it was less overwhelming. The cave dissolved around him, and he found himself once again in a vast expanse of snow. Now, having endured the vision before, Daemon steadied himself, focusing on the scene around him.


    In the distance, a massive ice wall stretched across thendscape, towering over the snow-covered ins from east to west. Daemon recognized it instantly��the Wall. But something was horribly wrong. The ground was littered with corpses, charred remains scattered in all directions. The smell of burning flesh filled the air.


    ��Roar����


    A deep, guttural dragon''s roar broke through the eerie silence, apanied by a strong gust of wind that swept across the bleak sky. Daemon looked up just in time to see a massive ck creature soaring over the Wall, its enormous wings blotting out the sun as it flew swiftly southeast.


    ��The Cannibal?�� Daemon whispered in shock as the vision zoomed closer, revealing more detail.


    On the dragon��s broad ck back, a silver-haired figurey slumped, barely moving. It was Rhaegar. His face was pale, eyes closed as if in a deep sleep. Bandages wrapped tightly around his arm, which trembled uncontrobly.


    Daemon��s heart sank. He never could have imagined his nephew would be in such a state. <em>Had the White Walkers attacked while he was away?</em>


    As if sensing his thoughts, Rhaegar suddenly opened his eyes, locking onto Daemon��s. For a brief moment, time seemed to stop as the two stared at each other across the vast, surrealndscape. There was something unsettling in the way they connected��an absurd, dreamlike tension filled the air.


    Daemon, at a loss, struggled toprehend his nephew��s condition. <em>Was Rhaegar seeing him, too?</em> The answer came swiftly. Yes, his nephew was aware of him. Somehow, their visions had crossed paths.


    Rhaegar, his expression a mix of shock and confusion, opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. The ck dragon beneath him pped its wings, elerating its flight over the Haunted Forest, quickly disappearing into the distance, taking Rhaegar with it.


    Daemon stood dumbfounded, trying to decipher what his nephew had been trying to say. He strained to make sense of the movement of Rhaegar��s lips...


    ��Boo~~��


    The vision blurred, then shatteredpletely, leaving Daemon once again under the Weirwood tree.

 Chapter 684: The Fish Feeding War

    Chapter 684: The Fish Feeding War


    Meanwhile, in the North��White Harbor:


    "Roar..." The Cannibal��s green, vertical pupils glinted coldly as wisps of Dragonfire seeped from its maw. The beast stood in tense alertness, scanning its surroundings with a predator��s calm.


    "I''m fine, mate," Rhaegar murmured groggily, his eyes fluttering open as hey slumped on the dragon''s back. Incredibly, he had dreamed of Daemon.


    Though Daemon himself was not a Dreamer, Rhaegar couldn��t shake the vividness of the encounter. <em>Could it have been more than a dream?</em> He had embarked on this journey to find the Heart Tree and the Greenseer, and meeting Daemon in a dream... perhaps that was a sign, some hidden gain.


    "Roar..." The Cannibal growled softly, scattering the seabirds circling the bay. The dragon cast a sidelong nce at its rider, almost as if to check on him.


    Rhaegar propped himself up with his left hand, chuckling wearily. "I can still hold on," he muttered, though his right side was numb, cold, and trembling uncontrobly.


    The Wall had taken its toll. There was no cure for the cold that clung to him, and the fragmented understanding of magic in Westeros offered little hope. His n was to cross the Narrow Sea, seeking answers from the Red Priestess in Lys or the blood mage Varys. And if they failed to provide a solution, he would follow Quaithe��s cryptic advice and journey to Asshai, to uncover the root of what ailed him.


    "With Daemon back, the garrison at Castle ck is practically imprable," Rhaegar mused, casting a nce toward the horizon, estimating how much time he had left. The Night King had been defeated in their first encounter and wouldn��t likely attempt another invasion of the Wall anytime soon. This lull gave Rhaegar precious time to heal and prepare.


    <em>But I need to be ready,</em> he thought grimly. The only way to end the threat of the Night King was to face him directly, in closebat. No one truly understood the depths of the Night King''s power, not even the devastating Dragonfire had revealed his full strength. One mistake, and Rhaegar could find himself among the ranks of the undead."We��re in a hurry, my friend," Rhaegar said, rubbing the Cannibal��s rough, dark scales, the gesture affectionate despite the weight of his worries.


    "Roar..." The Cannibal responded with a mighty bellow, plunging headlong into the clouds. It elerated in a steep dive, its immense chest skimming the surface of the sea, sending waves crashing in its wake as it hurtled forward on their urgent journey.


    ...


    In the underground cavern beneath the Weirwood...


    Hum...


    Daemon blinked, slowly regaining awareness. He knew nothing of Rhaegar''s situation, only the disorientation of emerging from the strange vision. <em>What happened?</em>


    ��You��re awake?�� The male Child of the Forest, still wearing his antlered helmet, approached cautiously. ��You spent three hours in the Green Vision this time.��


    Daemon tensed, on guard. <em>Three hours?</em> He asked, "Is the Green Vision the power of the Greenseer?"


    ��Unfortunately, no,�� the Child replied with a sigh. "You received guidance from the Heart Tree, but you did not inherit the Greenseer''s legacy." If Daemon had inherited it, this conversation would be very different��there would be no doubt, no questions. A Greenseer transcended such things.


    Daemon��s frown deepened. "So, I came all this way and all I saw were a few premonitions?" His voice hardened. ��What exactly is the Greenseer, and where is the legacy hidden?��


    At least he needed to understand what had gone wrong.


    ��The Greenseer is everywhere,�� the Child of the Forest said, his tone resolute. ��You are already blessed to see the future through the Green Vision.��


    Daemon was unconvinced, his eyes narrowing as he fixed his gaze on the solemn face carved into the Weirwood. The tree remained silent, bright red sap trickling down from its carved eyes like blood. He hesitated, debating whether to reach out and touch the bark again, to reconnect with the vision.


    ��No need to try,�� the Child of the Forest warned. ��The Heart Tree will reject you.�� His voice carried a note of finality. "One cannot attempt it twice."


    ��Really?�� Daemon shot back, watching him closely from the corner of his eye.


    The Child crossed his arms, showing no interest in stopping him.


    Daemon let out a coldugh, deciding against it. Whether the visions were real or not, he had no desire to lose control like that again. The sensation of being at the mercy of the vision��s pull had been maddening. His hand drifted unconsciously to his waist, where he suddenly realized that his sword��<em>Dark Sister</em>��had somehow be lodged between the roots of the Weirwood, stuck in the crevices of the rocks.


    Daemon��s eyes narrowed as he gripped the sword and tugged.


    Click!


    It jammed for a moment, but then <em>Dark Sister</em> slid free. He wiped the de clean, muttering to himself, ��You can��t keep this sword.��


    Turning, he strode away, his head held high, passing the Children of the Forest without a backward nce. It was time to return.


    The Children of the Forest exchanged nces as he left. The older female Child of the Forest silently departed to rally her kin, preparing for the migration.


    An hourter...


    Daemon emerged from the cave. The sun greeted him with blinding intensity, and he raised his hand to shield his eyes after so long in the darkness.


    Rumble...


    The shadow of his dragon fell over him, a scarlet silhouette blotting out the harsh light. Caraxes clung to the cliff face above, its wide wings stretching forward as it surveyed its rider below.


    ��Roar���� Caraxes let out a long, rumbling call, its throat trembling with emotion that echoed Daemon��s own unsettled thoughts.


    Daemon blinked against the sunlight, adjusting as he scanned his surroundings.


    ��Gah gah gah����


    A sudden flurry of cawing drew his attention. A flock of crows swooped down, perching in the branches of the Weirwood. Their ck feathers and the tree''s crimson leaves created a striking contrast.


    Daemon''s gaze lingered, searching for the familiar figure from his vision��the three-eyed crow. It was nowhere to be seen.


    ��Haha, I��m being paranoid,�� Daemon muttered with a wry smile, shaking his head. But his eyes, lowered to the ground, betrayed a lingering unease that refused to leave him.


    ...


    The Rivends, Green Fork of the Trident...


    "Kill!"


    "Archers, don��t stop!"


    The air was thick with the sounds of battle��swords shing, arrows whistling, and the screams of men locked inbat. On the sandy banks of the Green Fork, two armies shed. One bore the proud lion banner of House Lannister, its 2,000 men well-equipped and disciplined. The other, arger force of 3,000 soldiers, carried the sigils of the Rivends�� feudal lords, though their armor and weapons varied in quality.


    "Follow me! Drive the Westenders into the river to feed the fish!" bellowed Kermit, Lord of Riverrun, as he emerged from a pile of corpses, drenched in blood. His cry rallied the men of the Rivends, who surged forward, spurred on by the sight of their lord leading the charge.


    At the forefront were the banners of House Tully, House ckwood, and House Frey. Thebined strength of the Rivends cut through the Lannister forces like a spear driving into the heart of their shield wall. The fighting grew fierce, and soon the sky darkened with the dust and chaos of war.


    Kermit''s eyes, bloodshot with rage, found a gap in the enemy ranks. With a wild yell, he charged alone into the fray, hacking his way toward the center of the Lannister army.


    "Kill him! He��s the Lord of Riverrun!" a Westender shouted, rallying the spearmen to close in on Kermit.


    "Get out of my way!" A boy with dark hair, barely more than a child, suddenly burst out from the Rivends lines, brandishing a longsword. His young face twisted with fury as he let out a maniacalugh, charging at the enemy.


    "Kill him first!"manded a Lannister soldier. The Westenders, towering over the boy, braced for his attack.


    Whoosh!


    Just as the boy��s shield raised to block, arrows hissed through the air, striking his enemies with deadly precision. The arrows found their marks��neck, throat, and eye��felling the soldiers before they could reach him.


    Benjicot, the boy, nced back in surprise. There stood ck Aly, bow in hand, her leather armor stained with blood. Her eyes were cold as she nocked another arrow, her aim steady. House ckwood��s archery skills ran deep��just like the bastard Robb, the famed Alysanne precision was deadly.


    The battle raged on, a chaotic melee of thousands of men locked inbat. Blood flowed freely, staining the banks of the Green Fork. Neither side gave an inch, fighting with every ounce of strength they had left. The Westends�� shield wall, strong and nearly imprable, held firm against the desperate charges from the Rivends forces.


    But Kermit��s men were relentless. Spurred by hismand, some soldiers leapt onto the shields, impaling themselves on spears, dragging the enemy down with them. Others hacked away, trying to break through the iron discipline of the Westenders.


    "Charge! Follow me!" Kermit roared as the battle dragged into the evening.


    Suddenly, the thunder of hooves echoed across the battlefield. A cavalry force of several hundred men swept in from the nk, led by Oscar Tully, d in heavy armor and wielding ance. The cavalry smashed into the Lannister shield wall with a deafening crash, scattering shields and sending men flying.


    Atst, the shield wall broke.


    The Rivends army howled with triumph, surging forward like a pack of ravenous wolves. The Westenders, now in disarray, were pushed back toward the cold, fast-flowing river.


    Plop! Plop!


    Men screamed as they were driven into the icy waters. Archers lined the riverbank, loosing volley after volley of arrows into the retreating enemy. The infantry pressed on, their bloodied bodies forcing the Lannisters into the Trident, where death awaited.


    As the light faded and night crept in, the Rivends stood victorious.


    "Hoo... hoo... hoo..." Kermit dropped to his knees, exhausted, blood streaming down his face. His breath came in ragged gasps. "Send word to the Prince... tell him we��ve won."


    The cold night air settled over the battlefield, a sharp wind cutting through the stench of death. The riverbank was littered with corpses, their wounds frozen by the cold. The ice on the Green Fork thickened, trapping bodies beneath its surface. The dead floated like driftwood, their blood turning the river red, feeding the fish below.


    Oscar Tully, pale and weary, supported his elder brother as they surveyed the scene. "The bodies are frozen solid. We can clean up tomorrow."


    In a quieter corner of the beach, ck Aly wrung the blood from her long, ck curls. Her sharp eyes scanned the piles of bodies until she found her nephew, Benjicot, alive but covered in gore. Hey among the dead, his head resting on a blood-soaked corpse. With a weary grin, he pulled a piece of dried meat from his armor and began to chew, his face smeared with blood.


    He stared nkly up at the darkening sky, chewing in silence.


    ...


    The next day, around noon...


    At Riverrun, the air was tense and quiet, save for the asional rumble of war-drums in the distance.


    "Roar..."


    A massive, moss-colored dragon slithered across the frozen surface of the Trident, its ws puncturing the ice as it fishedzily. With a swift swipe, it snatched arge, fat fish from beneath the ice, gulping it down in one bite. The soldiers on the battlements stood rigid, too frightened to look away from the monstrous creature.


    Inside the castle, in the small hall on the second floor, Kermit��his shoulder wrapped in bandages��stood with his brothers Oscar and Benjicot. Their faces were somber, the weight of their recent battle heavy on their minds.


    "So many casualties?" Baelon, his clothes still dusted from travel, frowned as he scanned the casualty report. "Three thousand men lost, 1,800 of them killed. More than half the force."


    Kermit gave a bitter smile. "We had a n, but we underestimated the Westenders. They fought harder than we anticipated."


    "But we annihted the enemy," Benjicot interjected, licking his lips, his expression proud. His youthful face bore a smugness, like a dog waiting for its master��s approval. Two thousand Lannister soldiers nowy dead beneath the waters of the Trident.


    Baelon nodded solemnly, his eyes scanning the room. "You fought bravely, all of you. With unwavering courage, you''ve proven the strength of the Rivends to the world."


    The victory, hard-fought and bloody, had been achieved without a single soldier from outside the Rivends. This ��fish-feeding�� battle would go down in history, a testament to the Rivends�� resilience. In years toe, no one would dare question their army��s might.


    Kermit winced as he adjusted his bandages, pulling a letter from his tunic.


    ��What is this?�� Baelon asked, taking the letter with a wary nce.


    Kermit handed it over. ��A report from the scouts. Ten thousand Lannister soldiers have left Golden Tooth. They��re marching straight for the Trident��three thousand of them are cavalry.��


    Baelon''s eyes darkened as he read the letter. "Jason Lannister is determined to rebel," he muttered, his voice cold.


    ��Prince, the people of the Rivends stand with you,�� Benjicot dered, pounding his chest with fierce determination. ��At yourmand, House ckwood will lead the vanguard.��


    Despite his baby-faced appearance, Benjicot had already proven himself one of the most ruthless fighters. House ckwood had imed the majority of the kills in the battle that had stained the Trident red.


    Baelon crushed the letter in his fist. "Jason is seeking death. Let him have it."


    He tossed the crumpled paper aside. "Let the Lannister army cross into the Rivends. We''ll trap them at the Green Fork and crush them. They''ll have no idea about the battle at the Trident and will walk right into our hands, like animals into a trap."


    Riverrun was too close to the heart of the Rivends to risk an open battle. But they would draw the enemy north and tear them apart when the time was right.


    "Roar!"


    A deafening dragon''s roar shattered the tense silence, the sound crashing through the walls and windows of the hall. The boys nced up, startled, their eyes drawn to the sky outside.


    Two massive dragons circled above Riverrun, chasing each other through the cold air. One was bronze and menacing, its form cutting through the sky like a predator. The other had dark green scales, its wings ragged and tattered, resembling a war machine that had weathered countless battles.


    The sight of the two beasts overhead filled the room with a renewed sense of anticipation.

 Chapter 685: Red Dragon!

    Chapter 685: Red Dragon!


    ver''s Bay, Meereen


    The Great Pyramid...


    ��Your Grace, this is the gift the Good Masters have prepared for your Name Day celebration,�� a representative of the ve owners from Astapor and Yunkai announced, bowing low with exaggerated respect.


    In the Great Hall, Irina sat on the throne, her posturemanding. She wore her favorite slinky blue dress with a high slit��elegant and regal, while giving her freedom of movement. It disyed her queenly grace without the stiffness of more formal attire.


    ��Valyrian steel?�� Irina��s eyes gleamed as her fingers traced the ne presented to her��a delicate chain with a dragon��s head pendant crafted from Valyrian steel. Upon closer inspection, the links were unremarkable, but the pendant was a masterpiece, clearly from ancient Valyria. She felt a strange sense of recognition, as though she��d seen it somewhere before.


    The ve owner stepped forward eagerly, his tone full of ttery. ��Only treasures from Valyria��s glorious past are worthy of the noble blood of a true dragon.��


    ��A fine gift, showing real sincerity,�� Irina said with a smile, cing the ne back into its box. Since her capture of the red dragon that had been missing, rumors had spread like wildfire. The Great Masters of Meereen were nowpletely submissive, and even the Good Masters and Wise Masters of Astapor and Yunkai had grown more obedient. What had once been a fragile rule was now unshakable.


    However...


    Irina��s eyes flicked to the bald red-robed wizard standing quietly in the corner of the hall. Her brow furrowed slightly. The n to fully tame the dragon had been dyed. Thest remaining red-robed wizard could not control the creature, and his attempts to seek help from Asshai had yielded no results.This made the ve owners uneasy. Without the queen riding a dragon, doubt and suspicion were beginning to creep into their minds, and plots were being hatched in the shadows.


    As if reading her thoughts, the representative of the ve owners bowed again, his voice dripping with false reverence. ��Gracious Queen, when will you hold a grand event to show ver��s Bay might to House Targaryen? The people long to see the greatness of the Dragonlord��s lineage.��


    The question was thinly veiled. <em>Where is your dragon?</em> The subtext was clear��if she had a dragon, she should show it.


    Irina remained calm. ��There��s no need to rush. The merchants from Qarth have been visiting ver��s Bay frequently ofte. After their business is concluded, we��ll host a grand event.��


    ��But we��ve heard the merchants of Qarth are at war with House Hightower of Oldtown,�� a Good Master from Astapor interrupted, stepping forward with a haughty sneer. His short beard curled sharply as he eyed her with skepticism. ��They��ve been buying ves to fuel their attacks, even sending ves infected with grayscale to sow chaos in Oldtown. The entire Reach has united against them, and no one knows how long the war willst.��


    Irina��s eyes narrowed, her voice sharp. ��Are you doubting me?��


    The Good Master paled but tried to recover. ��No, Your Grace, we are merely... eager.��


    ��Insult the queen again, and you��ll lose your tongue,�� she warned, her tone ice-cold. The man recoiled, quickly bowing in submission.


    Irina stood, her patience at its end. ��Then go home and wait for news in peace,�� she said curtly. Grabbing the box from the maid��s tray, she turned and swept out of the hall, leaving the ve owners behind. They exchanged uneasy nces, frustration simmering beneath their forced smiles, but none dared speak.


    The doors of the Great Hall closed with a heavy thud, sealing them in silence.


    ...


    <strong>Great Pyramid, Dungeon</strong>


    Irina, nked by Unsullied guards, approached the heavy iron door to the dungeon once more.


    Rumble!


    The door creaked open slowly, releasing a pungent stench of rot and sulfur, mixed with the briny smell of fish. It struck her like a wall, clinging to her senses, refusing to fade.


    "Torch," shemanded, her voice steady, though her eyes darkened with unease. One of the Unsullied quickly handed her a torch. With its dim light, she cautiously stepped into the pitch-ck dungeon.


    Hoo...


    A gust of hot, fishy wind blew from the depths of the darkness, brushing against her face. Irina stiffened, her fingers gripping the torch tightly, her hand going numb. In her youth, she had dreamed of finding a dragon and restoring the glory of her house. But after so many failed attempts to control one, her initial courage had crumbled.


    "Roar..."


    A deep, guttural growl echoed through the dungeon, the sound thick, as though being dragged up from the throat of a monstrous creature. The shadows swallowed everything; even the faint torchlight couldn��t pierce the darkness ahead.


    Irina stared into the void, recalling her mother-inw��s warning: <em>Never show weakness to a dragon.</em>


    "Roar!"


    Suddenly, a torrent of red Dragonfire exploded from the depths, illuminating the dungeon in an inferno. The mes revealed the massive, chained silhouette of the dragon. Bright red scales gleamed, bristling with thorn-like barbs, and pale fangs, sharp enough to crush steel, gleamed in the flickering light.


    The red dragon red at her, its amber eyes filled with malice. It was chained in the corner, yet its presence dominated the space. Its appearance mirrored that of its mother, Dreamfyre, with the same brilliant red scales, off-white horns, and barbed jaw. Its three pairs of horns and dark red dorsal fin made it a fierce, majestic warrior by nature.


    "Quiet, Daenarion!" Irinamanded in High Valyrian, raising a hand to assert control.


    Though she had learned the ancient binding spells, she had yet to master the Fire Magic that pulsed in her blood. High Valyrian was a fragile substitute for true dragon mastery, but it was all she had.


    "Roar!"


    Daenarion, however, was not so easily tamed. The dragon growled menacingly, rejecting her words and the name she had given it. With an enraged snarl, it lunged forward, chains rattling as it strained against its bonds. Though the dragon��s muzzle couldn��t reach her, the searing heat of its breath washed over her like a furnace.


    Irina��s heart raced, and her fa?ade of calm began to falter. The dragon��s amber eyes tracked her every movement, watching for any sign of weakness. In an instant, its wings spread wide, the chains groaning under the strain as it lunged once more.


    The heat enveloped her, scalding her skin a deep red, and the pressure was unbearable. Irina��s face paled as fear surged through her, her courage finally cracking under the dragon��s onught. She stumbled back, dropping the torch in a panic.


    Rumble!


    As she retreated, the heavy door mmed shut behind her, the noise reverberating through the stone halls. The dragon��s furious roar echoed from within the dungeon, but Irina was already out of reach, her heart pounding as she leaned against the wall outside.


    ...


    <strong>At the same time, the Colosseum</strong>


    <em>Backstage rest area</em>


    In a dimly lit corner, a boy with a buzz cut crouched alone, clutching a rusty iron sword to his chest. His fair skin was smeared with yellow mud, his dusty hair streaked with silver, and his frame was thin and frail. He looked every bit like a lost child, though his hardened expression hinted at something darker.


    <em>Sa sa sa!</em>


    The quiet sound of footsteps approached, and a towering man with thick ck hair strode over, settling down beside the boy. The giant of a man began to methodically rub arge broadsword with salt and lemon, paying no mind to the boy at first.


    The boy nced over cautiously, his body tensing. Life in the Colosseum had left him perpetually on edge. It wasn��t just a ce of blood and spectacle��it was a world where survival meant preying on the weak. The ves here weren��t simply victims; they were predators, ready to crush anyone below them. If not for the cold ruthlessness that had grown inside him, he knew he might have already been vited or worse.


    ��Don��t worry,�� the ckhair giant muttered, his voicezy but rich with character, never looking up from his sword. ��I��m not interested in boys.��


    The boy rxed ever so slightly, though his eyes remained wary. He had learned not to trust anyone here. The Colosseum had shattered his previous view of the world, reshaping everything he thought he knew about power. Before, he had believed in the importance of kindness and mercy. Now he understood the harsh truth: without power, such ideals were meaningless��worse, they were dangerous.


    ��You��re Aemon, right? The boy who came with the priestess?�� the ckhair strongman asked, casting a sidelong nce, sizing him up as though he were a curiosity.


    Aemon��s head jerked up, his eyes sharp. ��Who are you? Do you know Sally?�� He spoke with sudden intensity. The priestess meant something to him; they had shared the road, and he had helped her as much as she had helped him.


    The man shrugged, unconcerned. ��No. She��s just a ve who peddles medicine.�� He paused for a moment, then continued, ��You��ll be in the arena soon enough. Might want to sharpen that sword of yours��at least give yourself a chance to stab someone in the belly.��


    With that, the ckhair strongman tossed the half-used lemon aside, sheathed his massive sword, and stood. As he walked away, he twirled the sword in one hand, the de cutting azy arc through the air with surprising grace for someone of his size.


    Aemon watched him leave, still unsure whether to believe anything the man had said. He picked up the discarded lemon and began to rub it along the edge of his dull de, following the advice, if only half-heartedly.


    The giant had a weathered face, rough with a beard, his muscles sculpted from years of fighting. He wasn��t particrly remarkable to look at, yet there had been no malice in his demeanor, no immediate hostility. Whatever his reasons for speaking, Aemon couldn��t sense any ill intent��for now.


    ...


    Soon, the Colosseum''s gates swung open, and the duel began.


    ves, d in mismatched armor and gripping crude weapons, streamed into the arena through the heavy gates. Among them was Aemon, armed with nothing but a rusty iron sword. Blending into the crowd, he spotted the ckhair giant striding confidently ahead.


    ��He��s here too,�� Aemon muttered, his gaze locking onto the hulking figure. Slowly, he began to edge his way closer.


    In the stands, ve owners and merchants whispered eagerly, cing bets on their chosen fighters. The air buzzed with anticipation. Irina sat among them, looking disinterested, her chin resting in her hand as shezily leaned against the table.


    In the arena, Aemon felt a pang of anxiety as he nced up at the unsightly ve owners gawking at them. Then, he saw her��Irina, sitting in the stands, her hand pressed to her forehead. His stomach tightened.


    ��It��s her... that old woman,�� he mumbled under his breath. He debated whether to make himself known. They had crossed paths a few times, and none of those meetings had gone well. She wasn��t someone to trust, especially not after meddling in her brother��s affairs. <em>If I reveal my identity now, I��ll probably end up locked in some dungeon... never seeing daylight again.</em>


    ��Kid, stick close to me,�� the ckhair giant interrupted, his deep voice breaking through Aemon��s thoughts.


    Aemon nodded quickly, realizing the wisdom in the advice. With his small frame andck of real skill, there was no way he could survive the bloodbath without protection. ��Okay,�� he agreed, knowing he needed all the help he could get.


    ng!


    The sound of the gong echoed through the arena, signaling the start of the fight. Chaos erupted instantly. Swords shed, and the sound of metal shing filled the air as ves turned on one another, desperate to survive. The arena quickly transformed into a brutal, frenzied battlefield.


    Aemon hesitated for a split second��just long enough for a spray of blood to stter across his face.


    ��Watch yourself! I can��t protect you all the time!�� the ckhair giant bellowed, swinging his enormous sword as he charged into the throng ofbatants.


    The arena was a storm of violence, and the ckhair strongman stood at the center, his massive sword cleaving through enemies with terrifying ease. The weapon, nearly as tall as a man and as wide as a palm, cut through flesh and bone with every swing. No one could stand against him��those who tried were either hacked down or crushed by the force of his blows. Blood sttered in wide arcs, painting the ground red.


    Aemon, shaking off his shock, fell into step behind the giant, using him as both a shield and a weapon. He dodged and weaved, staying just out of harm��s way as the strongman carved a path through the battlefield.


    Time crept forward, and as noon approached, the once-crowded arena was littered with bodies. Only a handful of ves remained standing��less than a tenth of those who had entered. Aemon, still alive, had managed to avoid most of the fighting by hiding in the shadows, his heart pounding as he watched the carnage unfold.


    Many in the stands had expected him to be among the first to fall. But here he was, quietly lingering at the edge, unnoticed by the bloodthirsty crowd. Against all odds, he had survived.


    ng!


    The gong sounded again, signaling the end of the duel. The remaining ves, battered and exhausted, dragged themselves toward the iron Sect, leaving the gruesome battlefield behind. Aemon lingered at the back, not eager to draw attention to himself among the hardened survivors.


    As the survivors filed into the rest area, a rare reward awaited them��food. ording to the rules of the arena, those who survived each round would be given a feast before returning to the dark, damp cells below.


    Just as Aemon was about to enter the gate, he nced back over his shoulder. His eyes caught a glimpse of Irina, her blue dress trailing as she rose from the table and made her way out of the stands. Something stirred in his mind, but he couldn��t quite grasp what it was.


    He turned back, stepping through the iron doors, his thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty.


    ...


    As night fell, the Colosseum grew silent, the chaos of the day reced by an eerie stillness.


    In the damp, underground prison cell, Aemon huddled in a corner, gnawing on a half-eaten baked potato. He had survived the day''s brutal fight and, as a result, had been temporarily moved to a less crowded cell. It was still cramped and reeked of damp stone, but at least there was more space to breathe.


    His eyes drifted toward the ckhair brawny man whoy near the small, barred window, his eyes closed, breathing steady. The man appeared to be asleep, but there was a tension in his muscles, as if even in sleep, he was ready for anything.


    <em>This is an opportunity,</em> Aemon thought, a spark of an idea flickering to life. Perhaps he could win over the strongman, find a way to forge an alliance and secure a future��something he��d never considered before. His older brother Baelon and younger brother Maekar had always been the ones to gather support, building alliances and gaining favor. Aemon, on the other hand, had preferred to keep things simple, focusing on managing Lys and Tyrosh on the other side of the Narrow Sea. He had never lowered himself to treat subordinates with any real respect.


    But now, in this unforgiving ce, he needed to adapt. <em>Dare to think, dare to act,</em> he told himself, gritting his teeth as he stood up.


    He walked toward the window, where the cool night breeze blew through the bars, pushing away the clouds that had been covering the sky. The Pure moonlight broke through, casting a beam over the prison. Aemon��s gaze drifted upward, following the light to the towering shape of the Great Pyramid of Meereen. It loomed high above the city, an oppressive symbol of power, bearing down on those beneath it.


    He stared at the pyramid, its size and grandeur crushing to those who stood below it. For a moment, he swore he could hear something��a distant roar. The sound of a dragon, full of fury and rage. Or perhaps it was just his imagination, stirred by the oppressive weight of the night and the towering pyramid. Either way, it stoked a fire within him, setting his heart aze with something he hadn��t felt in a long time.


    ��What are you looking at?�� a voice interrupted his thoughts.

 Chapter 686: I am Aemon Targaryen

    Chapter 686: I am Aemon Targaryen


    A deep voice startled Aemon from behind. He nced down to find the ckhair strongman ring at him, his dark eyes burning with annoyance.


    ��Disturb me while I��m sleeping again, and I��ll stab you in the ass,�� the ckhair growled, his voice thick with irritation.


    Aemon nced at the other sleeping ves, unfazed. He crouched down beside the man and replied calmly, ��No need. You prefer women.��


    ��There aren��t any women here,�� the ckhair retorted, licking the corner of his mouth with a smirk that was anything but kind.


    ��Let��s talk,�� Aemon suggested, cutting straight to the point. He wasn��t interested in meaningless threats. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out one and a half leftover baked potatoes, offering them as a sign of goodwill.


    The ckhair raised an eyebrow, looking at the half-eaten potatoes with disdain. ��What are you trying to do, feed a beggar?�� he sneered, but took them anyway, chomping down between his words.


    Aemon used the moment to press his advantage. He knew the mentality of men like this, men who��d been beaten down by the world but still had some fight left in them. He leaned closer and spoke in a low voice, ��Do you want to be free?��


    The ckhair chuckled as if Aemon had just told a joke. ��With you?�� he scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm.


    Aemon didn��t waste time with a rebuttal. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and gestured to the shackles around his ankles. ��I have a few... unorthodox skills,�� he said, pulling a twisted fork from his pocket, a simple utensil he had swiped from the Colosseum��s dining area.With practiced ease, he inserted the tip into the lock of his shackles. A click echoed in the quiet cell as the manacles snapped open. Aemon gave the ckhair a calm, steady look and let the shackles drop, as if to say, <em>See?</em>


    The ckhair��s eyes widened slightly, but his expression quickly shifted into a smirk. ��Quite the talent,�� he said, impressed despite himself. The Colosseum was notorious for its tight security, and the locks on the ves were specifically designed to prevent such escape attempts. This wasn��t a trick anymon thief could pull off.


    Aemon casually refastened the shackles, his demeanor growing serious. ��If you help me, I can get us all out of here.��


    The ckhair��s amusement faded, and a skeptical look crossed his face. ��And where exactly do you n on going? Even if you pick the locks, without weapons, we won��t stand a chance against the guards. You��ll be dead before you make it ten steps.��


    The Colosseum had a strict policy: all weapons were confiscated after each duel, leaving the ves defenseless. But Aemon remained undeterred.


    ��I��ve already figured that out,�� Aemon replied, his voice firm. ��I saw where they store the weapons today��it��s behind the rest area.��


    The ckhair listened, still skeptical but intrigued. Aemon��s n seemed simple but feasible: unlock their shackles, sneak out, reach the storage room, and arm themselves. From there, they��d stand a chance.


    After a moment, the ckhair leaned back, considering the idea. ��The Colosseum is heavily guarded. Even if we make it to the weapons, getting out of here will be difficult.��


    Aemon met his gaze steadily. ��Difficult, yes. But not impossible. I cane back for the others once I��ve gotten out.��


    The ckhair was silent, his eyes searching Aemon��s face for any sign of doubt. Why should he trust this scrawny boy, or believe he��d return to free the rest of them?


    Aemon��s next words were slow, deliberate. ��I am of the blood of the Dragon.�� He paused, letting the words sink in before continuing, ��You can ask Sally. She��ll vouch for me.��


    At the mention of his lineage, the ckhair��s pupils contracted, his demeanor shifting from doubt to deep contemtion. The blood of the Dragon was no small im.


    ...


    <strong>Seven dayster</strong>


    The Colosseum, Meereen.


    After yet another grueling duel, the victorious ves trudged back to the rest area, sweat mixing with the blood on their bodies. Aemon moved with the crowd, slipping into an inconspicuous spot along the wall, trying to stay unnoticed.


    ��I��ve found fifty men willing to help,�� came a low voice.


    Aemon nced up to see the ckhair strongman approaching, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings for eavesdroppers.


    ��Only fifty?�� Aemon whispered, frowning. He had hoped for more��fifty men seemed barely enough to take on even the guards at the weapons storeroom, let alone fight their way out of the Colosseum.


    The ckhair scoffed, tearing into a piece of ck bread. ��And if there were more, could you trust them? The bigger the group, the quicker someone talks.��


    Aemon couldn��t argue with that. Rallying fifty men in the cutthroat, backstabbing world of the Colosseum was an impressive feat on its own. More would mean more risk��more chances for someone to betray the n.


    He nodded in silent agreement.


    ��When do we move?�� the ckhair asked, a glint of anticipation in his eyes. The thought of slitting the guards�� throats and escaping ver��s Bay clearly filled him with barely contained excitement.


    Aemon considered it for a moment, then whispered, ��Half a month...��


    <em>Ding-dong!</em>


    The sharp ng of a gong interrupted him. The sound rang out three times in rapid session��loud and jarring. It was the signal for all ves to gather.


    ��Let��s see what��s happening,�� Aemon muttered, swallowing the rest of his sentence as he stood. The other ves around him cursed under their breath, hastily shoving food into their mouths before filing out. No one dared disobey the summons; the guards of the ve owners were merciless executioners, and defiance meant death.


    The arena was eerily quiet when they arrived. The spectators had already left, and the grandstands loomed above, empty of the usual roars and jeers.


    Aemon stepped out through the iron Sect, squinting against the harsh sunlight. As his eyes adjusted, he caught sight of a familiar figure standing in the center of the arena, bathed in the midday glow.


    His heart skipped a beat.


    ��Sally!!�� Aemon��s voice echoed across the blood-stained arena.


    In the center, a gallows stood wrapped in thorny briars. Tied to the wooden frame was Sally, the middle-aged woman who had cared for him all this time. Her bloated body showed the harsh marks of the ropes, her wrists raw from the restraints. Beneath her, dry firewood had been piled high, ready to burn.


    Aemon stood frozen, disbelief coursing through him. He never imagined he would see her like this��condemned and bound for execution.


    ng!


    The guard, his face grim and emotionless, mmed a gong and pointed to the gallows. ��This vile ve girl is a blood witch,�� he shouted to the gathered crowd. ��She��s been trading forbidden magic potions to the ves in the Colosseum.��


    The crowd erupted in a mix of murmurs and shouts. Aemon couldn��t fully grasp what was happening, but beside him, the ckhair strongman looked shaken. He knew. The Colosseum cared little for its ves unless they were undefeated champions. Wounded ves were left to fend for themselves, receiving little to no treatment. Sally had been one of the few to help, secretly trading medicines through ve owner channels, offering both healing and information in exchange for survival.


    The guard��s voice cut through the noise again as he berated the ves, calling them worthless, before picking up a torch. With a sneer, he hurled it onto the woodpile beneath Sally.


    Boom!


    The fire ignited instantly, mes licking up the sides of the gallows. The wood had been soaked in oil, and the fire spread rapidly. Sari closed her eyes, her lips trembling as she whispered a prayer��a final plea to her god, hoping for salvation. But there would be none.


    ��Nooo!�� Aemon��s cry was drowned by the crackling mes.


    This woman had saved him, time and time again, persuading him not to give up, scavenging food and water to keep them alive. She wasn��t beautiful, she wasn��t powerful, but she had given everything to ensure they survived together.


    Now, the fire raged, ck smoke billowing into the air. Sally��s prayers grew frantic, her voice speeding up as the heat reached her skin. In seconds, her prayers turned to shrieks of agony as the mes consumed her clothes, burning her flesh.


    ��Don��t look,�� the ckhair strongman muttered, stepping in front of Aemon, shielding him from the horrific sight.


    But Aemon stood in shock, his body rigid, unable to move. Thest thing he saw was Sally��s face��her green eyes wide with terror. In a fleeting moment, their gazes locked across the mes. Recognition flickered in her eyes, followed by a brief, painful smile, her wrinkled eyes tightening in what seemed like a final act of tenderness.


    Then her screams turned to cursing��her voice rising above the crackle of the fire as she damned every ve owner and theirckeys. She cursed them all, vowing they would meet the same fate.


    Aemon felt the ckhair strongman press him against his chest, trying to shield him from the horror, but the sound of Sally��s wails lingered, haunting the air.


    ��Ashes���� Aemon whispered, closing his eyes as his lips moved faintly. He understood. This was Sally��sst wish��a wish for vengeance, for justice.


    Soon, the execution ended, the grim spectacle meant to deter rebellion among the ves. As the fire smoldered, the ves were ordered back to the underground cells. The rest area, which had once promised a brief respite, now seemed hollow and lifeless.


    On the way back, the ckhair strongman walked beside Aemon, his mood heavy. ��Is the n still half a month from now?�� he asked cautiously. He had overheard the guards mention a grand event in Meereen in half a month��an event that would surely leave security weakened.


    ��No,�� Aemon muttered, his voice steely with resolve. He clenched his fists, his head bowed. ��Tonight.��


    ...


    It was dusk.


    The guards had begun their shift change, heading off to eat, leaving the underground cells lightly patrolled.


    <em>Click!</em>


    A cell door quietly swung open, and several shadowy figures slipped into the corridor. Aemon moved swiftly, dropping his shackles and hurrying to open the other cell doors one by one.


    The imprisoned ves erupted with excitement, shouting and cheering as their chains fell away. Their eyes gleamed with a dangerous mixture of desperation and hope. For some, this was a chance to escape, while others saw an opportunity to betray the escapees in exchange for favor. Either way, it was a fight for survival.


    ��Get out of here, all of you! If you want freedom, follow me!�� the ckhair strongman bellowed, leading the charge. His powerful voice cut through the chaos, rallying the ves.


    With one mighty blow, he smashed through the iron door. Two guards, stunned by the suddenmotion, barely had time to react. The ckhair man shook off his chains and lunged at them, seizing one guard by the neck. <em>Crack!</em> The guard copsed, lifeless.


    ��Charge!��


    Blood spilled across the dungeon floor, and the sight sent the ves into a frenzy. They surged forward, a wild mob, some darting off in all directions while others rallied behind the ckhair strongman, following his lead.


    Aemon, however, had a clear target. He sprinted towards the weapons storage room behind the rest area, his heart pounding in his chest.


    ��Who goes there!?��


    A squad of guards was stationed outside the storage room, their hands tightening around their spears as they tried to rally against the oing ves. But the moment of hesitation was fatal. The ves, fueled by adrenaline and the scent of blood, descended on them. A vicious melee erupted, and the guards were quickly overwhelmed, torn apart before they could even call for reinforcements.


    <em>Click!</em>


    Aemon worked quickly, picking the lock to the storage room with calm precision. The door swung open, revealing rows of weapons and armor stacked neatly within.


    The ves�� eyes widened, and they surged forward, ready to plunder the armory and arm themselves. The smell of freedom was almost palpable.


    ��Stop right there! If you want to be free, listen to me first!��


    The ckhair strongman had already retrieved his enormous sword and now stood at the entrance of the armory, his voice booming. His shout halted the chaotic rush, his presence demanding attention.


    The ves paused, their breath ragged. While many had scattered, hundreds still remained, eyes gleaming with desperation. Yet, only a few dozen of them had been part of the nned escape��most of the others were simply swept up in the moment, clinging to any chance of survival.


    ��What do you want to say?�� a young ve snapped, his voice seething with anger. ��If we don��t run now, when will we?��


    With weapons within reach, hope was finally tangible. The other ves murmured in agreement, their expressions turning hostile. They were ready to break free, and anyone standing in their way was a threat.


    "Listen to me, you scum!"


    Aemon stepped forward, his voice cold and cutting through the tense air. ��You want freedom? So do I. But do you really think you can win it with this handful of people and a few stolen weapons from the armory?�� He gestured at the ragtag group around him. ��You can��t even break out of the Colosseum, let alone a heavily guarded city like Meereen.��


    The young ve who had challenged him earlier scowled, clearly unimpressed with the half-grown boy. "So, what are you going to do?"


    Aemon took a breath, straightening his back as he drew from the speeches his father once gave. ��Help me,�� he dered, his arms wide, ��and I will give you your freedom! I am of the blood of the dragon. If you help me escape, I will repay you with more than just survival. I will repay you with freedom.��


    The ves exchanged doubtful nces. Most of them knew nothing about the "blood of the dragon," and to them, Aemon was just a boy making grand ims.


    But Aemon didn��t stop to exin. He had to prove himself. Without a word, he knocked over a brazier near the entrance of the armory, scattering glowing embers across the floor. The fire red up as the coals hissed.


    Stepping toward the mes, Aemon didn��t hesitate. He picked up a dagger from a fallen guard and, with a sharp, metallic sound, sliced his wrist. Blood dripped down, falling into the coals.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The mes roared higher, as if the blood had fueled the fire itself. The ves gasped, eyes wide with shock.


    This was exactly the reaction Aemon had hoped for. He gritted his teeth through the searing pain and spoke through the rising heat. ��I am Aemon Targaryen! The lost Dragonlord! Who will fight for me and for freedom?��


    Silence gripped the room, every pair of eyes locked on Aemon as he stood, arm bleeding, in the midst of the mes. His sweat mingled with the blood, his face pale but defiant. He wasn��t immune to the fire, and the pain was excruciating, but he endured it.


    <em>What is a little pain in exchange for loyalty?</em>


    ��I am a true Dragonlord!�� Aemon shouted again, his voice louder, moremanding. ��Who will fight for the Dragonlords?��


    <em>Plop! Plop!</em>


    Several ves dropped to their knees, their faces flushed with excitement. They had seen many things in the Colosseum, but never a disy like this. The mes danced around Aemon, a young figure standing tall amidst the fire, his presence almost otherworldly.


    ��Fight for the true Dragonlord!�� the ckhair strongman bellowed, his voice echoing through the armory. Without hesitation, he swung his massive sword, cutting down the shelves around him.


    ��For the true Dragonlord!�� others echoed, their voices swelling into a chorus.


    The wave of morale surged. The ves, hearts pounding with newfound purpose, stormed the armory, grabbing weapons and armor. The atmosphere shifted��where there had been doubt, now there was determination. They were no longer desperate survivors; they were soldiers in a rebellion, warriors for the true dragon.


    Aemon, trembling and weak from the pain, took a shaky step back. His arm throbbed, and when he nced down, he noticed something strange��a faintyer of scaly lines traced across his skin, shimmering in the light of the mes.


    <em>The blood of the dragon.</em>

 Chapter 687: The Rebirth of a True Dragon!

    Chapter 687: The Rebirth of a True Dragon!


    The sun sank low in the west, igniting the clouds in shades of fire and ink. Over Meereen, the Colosseum roared with chaos.


    "Stop them! Don��t let them open the gate!"


    "Archers, ready yourselves! Let none escape!"


    ...


    Angry shouts echoed through the arena as, unexpectedly, the iron gate creaked open. The ves surged forward in a coordinated assault, overwhelming guards and iming lives with ruthless efficiency. Within half an hour, they had nearly breached the Colosseum''s walls.


    Boom! Boom!


    Torches and braziers toppled, spilling charcoal fires that blocked the passageways and ignited the wooden structures above.


    "The gate is just ahead!" someone shouted, igniting hope.


    Bands of young, powerful ves surged forward, wielding makeshift weapons and leaving a bloody trail of guards in their wake. Aemon found himself in their midst, propelled forward by the relentless momentum. Every so often, he nced back, catching sight of the ashes still smoldering in the arena. The gallows had burned through, embers rising into the sky.Crash!


    The Colosseum gates burst open, and, for a fleeting moment, sunlight poured through, casting a final glow over the fleeing ves. They escaped from the inferno that had held them prisoner, running into thest light of the setting sun. Then, as if on cue, darkness fell.


    "Don��t be afraid! Scatter!"


    As night deepened, the ves vanished into the shadows, fleeing in all directions. The Great Masters stood in fury,shing out at their subordinates. "After them! Now!"


    The ve soldiers hesitated, then steeled themselves and gave chase. Yet this rebellion felt strange��unlike past attempts where ves made desperate dashes for the city gates, this group dispersed, vanishing into the streets and alleys.


    It was as if they intended not just to escape, but to disrupt, sowing confusion and drawing the ire of the Great Masters and citizens alike, casting a shadow over the city��s much-anticipated celebration.


    ...


    The night grew darker, deepening the chaos that had spread across the city. Fires erupted in pockets throughout Meereen, blending with the torches of the ve soldiers until the darkness zed almost as bright as day. The mes weren��t random; they were set deliberately by the escaping ves. But instead of fleeing, they turned on the nearby residents, releasing a pent-up fury that drove them to reckless attacks.


    The ve soldiers fought back, using brutal force to beat, restrain, or kill the insurgents. Yet, the madness only seemed to grow. It was as though the ves were venting for a battle they had long anticipated but had never had the chance to fight. Amid the chaos, it was impossible to tell friend from foe. Order frayed to the brink of copse.


    ...


    Outside the Great Pyramid


    Taking advantage of the fires raging around the city, a small group crept toward the Great Pyramid��the pce of Meereen''s queen. Guarding the structure were ranks of Unsullied soldiers, the famed warriors purchased from Astapor, whose patrols secured the pyramid like an imprable wall.


    "Who��s going?" murmured a muscr man with dark, wild hair as hey hidden among the bushes, watching a patrol of Unsullied soldiers. There were only ten of them, but each was a product of brutal, unrelenting training.


    A dozen ves gathered behind him, visibly shaken by the sight of the Unsullied.


    ��Cowards,�� the man spat, standing with a heavy creak as he lifted his massive sword. "I��ll lead the way. Are you with me?��


    The sound of his voice immediately drew the attention of the Unsullied, who reacted with a swift, silent precision, spears and shields raised as they formed a tight circle around the advancing ves. Trapped and seeing no way out but through, the ves charged.


    Puff! One of the ves dashed forward, only to be impaled through the abdomen by an Unsullied spear.


    Thud, thud, thud! The Unsullied struck their spears against their shields, their expressionless faces betraying no emotion as they crouched and moved in, closing the circle.


    A major battle was about to erupt.


    ...


    In the bushes nearby, Aemon watched the confrontation, his eyes sharp as he spotted his opportunity. He dropped low, moving stealthily on hands and knees as he crept towards the underground stone prison of the Great Pyramid.


    He didn��t know where the red dragon was kept, but every so often, he heard a distant dragon roar, its deep echo reverberating in what sounded like an enclosed space. During his time with Irina, she had told him of the Great Pyramid��syout. The only ce secure enough to contain a dragon was the underground stone prison��a space originally built as a tomb.


    Before long, he arrived at the stone prison��s entrance. Two imposing sphinx statues nked the heavy stone door��one carved with a female face, the other with a male. Normally, there would have been guards, but tonight, their attention had shifted to the battles raging nearby.


    ��We have to hurry; time is running out,�� Aemon said urgently, scanning the surroundings before sprinting toward the stone door.


    The escapees were outnumbered, struggling to hold back the relentless waves of Unsullied. If he didn��t act quickly, all their efforts would be for nothing.


    Bang! Bang! He pounded his fists against the stone door, pausing to press his ear against its rough surface. This door wasn��t ordinary; it was a specially crafted mechanism, said to be the work of a Blood Mage. Aemon remembered the burr who had once taught him the art of lockpicking: ��Use your ears and fingers, not just your eyes.��


    He struck the wall beside the door, listening carefully. The sound changed, signaling he was close to the hidden mechanism.


    With his fingers pressed against the cool stone, he felt along the surface, seeking thetch that would let him inside.


    ��Where is it? Hurry!��


    A cold voice rang out behind him as footsteps echoed, growing closer. Aemon��s face tightened; he spun around to see arge group of Unsullied soldiers approaching, one squad moving straight toward him, blocking the path to the stone door.


    ��Open up, open up!�� he muttered urgently, a thin line of sweat forming on his forehead as his fingers scraped against the rough stone, bleeding from the pressure. The Unsullied were closing in fast, their spears gleaming ck in the flickering torchlight.


    Then, with a loud crash, the heavy stone door lurched open, leaving a dent in the wall.


    ��Excellent,�� Aemon whispered, relief shing across his face as he nced once at the approaching Unsullied, then slipped through the doorway into the darkness of the stone prison.


    ...


    Inside, the dim, stale air clung to him, heavy with the acrid smell of smoldering ash. Aemon��s purple eyes widened as he carefully traced his path along the cold stone walls. ��Where are you?�� he whispered into the shadowed silence.


    He knew the dragon was here��he had felt its call. His siblings had their own abilities, mysterious talents that hinted at ancient bloodlines: Daenerys with her prophetic dreams, Maekar with his keen intuition. Perhaps he, too, had inherited something, for he could feel the dragon��s presence as though it were a whisper deep within his bones.


    ��Come out!�� Aemon called out in High Valyrian, his voice echoing with the magic he willed into the words.


    <em>Crack!</em>


    Something snapped beneath his foot. He nced down and found a charred rib, still warm, bearing marks of something far hotter than ordinary fire. This had to be it. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, a sudden rush of hot air wafted from his left, thick with the scent of sulfur. A rumbling sound grew louder, punctuated by the heavy nk of chains.


    Aemon��s heart pounded as he looked to his left. There, less than ten meters away, a pair of amber eyes opened, cold and piercing, fixing on him with a merciless gaze.


    In that instant, the dragon��s maw parted, exposing the fiery red glow of Dragonfire that illuminated its outline. Aemon��s breath caught as the dragon came into full view��a massive creature covered in glistening crimson scales, its neck chained to the wall. Ity coiled in the corner, slowly lifting its head crowned with a crown of sharp, menacing horns.


    The dragon��s snout hovered just a few feet from Aemon, their faces almost level. He could feel the searing heat radiating from the dragon��s breath as mes flickered around its jaws.


    ��Roar~~~��


    The dragon released a low, guttural growl, its head tilted slightly as it eyed the silver-haired boy with wary curiosity. Its amber pupils, narrow and sharp, flickered as it assessed him, a mere moment away from unleashing its wrath.


    But Aemon onlyughed��a soft, breathy sound, almost childlike in its happiness. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he slowly raised a hand, each step taking him closer to the dragon��s open maw.


    ��Roar!��


    The red dragon��s pupils shed with a fierce, tyrannical light as it stretched its neck forward, nearly toppling the silver-haired boy with its sheer size and force. Straining against the sturdy chains, its enormous maw stopped just short of Aemon, less than a meter away.


    In that tense moment, Aemon��s bloodied palm rested lightly against the dragon��s muzzle. With a soft smile, he murmured, ��Are you trapped too, big guy?��


    The dragon, bound and unable to soar, mirrored Aemon��s own confinement within these cold stone walls. Its pupils narrowed in surprise��no one had ever dared to touch it so casually.


    ��It��s not pleasant being caught, is it?�� Aemon spoke softly, more to himself, his usual disheveled appearance now calm andposed. Unlike his eldest brother Baelon��s sternness or his third brother Maekar��s hesitations, Aemon seemed to carry both his father Rhaegar��s courage and his mother Rhaenyra��s resilient grace.


    ��Roar!��


    The red dragon��s fury red, a fiery intensity rising in its maw as it opened wide, its bright red Dragonfire burning hotter. It seemed ready to defend its pride, even if it meant devouring him in an instant.


    ��Don��t worry, I��ll set you free.�� Aemon withdrew his hand calmly, stepping past the dragon��s fiery gaze, undaunted by its lethal breath, and moved toward the base of the dragon��s neck where the iron shackles bit into its scales.


    The dragon seemed to understand; for a moment, it held back its wrath, observing him in guarded silence. Aemon��s steps were steady, and he even reached out to pat its glistening red scales, murmuring, ��Bow your head, big guy.��


    The dragon��s pupils glinted with suspicion, but after a moment, it lowered its head, its massive neck resting on the floor and turning slightly to expose the iron shackles. The three-foot-wide metal bands wrapped tightly around its neck, restricting its every move.


    ��Here we go,�� Aemon said quietly, climbing up the chains to examine the lock. His fingers ran along the cold steel until��


    <em>Click!</em>


    The shackle unlocked with a metallic snap, and the heavy chains slid down, ttering to the stone floor.


    ��Roar!��


    The red dragon lifted its head and roared triumphantly, its Dragonfire bursting forth in a torrent of brilliant, blood-red mes that scorched the ceiling, a volcanic fury unleashed after years of suppression.


    Roar! Roar!


    With its amber eyes gleaming, the dragon crept towards the prison door, each massive step echoing through the chamber as it coiled its thirty-meter body. It was massive, already a giant even among dragons, its form well beyond its age.


    ��Roar?�� The red dragon stopped at the threshold, then turned, casting a nce back at Aemon, who remained in the shadows, watching quietly. He didn��t move closer; a hint of a smile yed at the corner of his mouth.


    In his heart, Aemon understood: <em>The dragon chooses its rider, and the rider chooses the dragon.</em> This creature had known only chains and darkness, enduring the cruelty of the Dothraki and ver��s Bay. To tame it purely for escape would be to trade one master for another. If the dragon chose to leave, it would be a choice freely made.


    Bang!


    The dragon shook itself, flexing its powerful tail and crashing it through the stone door, sending a squad of Unsullied flying before they had time to react.


    Then, as the dust settled, the red dragon slowly turned its head back once more.


    ��Roar!��


    The red dragon��s fierce, vertical pupils locked onto the silver-haired boy, reflecting his image as if its roar were summoning him forward. Aemon��s eyes gleamed with excitement, his mouth curling up in a grin. ��Here ites,�� he whispered.


    He ran up to the dragon, who lowered its proud head once more, allowing him to climb onto its back. As Aemon settled in, his hands found steady footing on the barbs along its powerful neck. ��Shall I name you, big guy?�� he murmured, though it sounded more like a statement than a question.


    ��Trickster�� Trickster���� he mused, recalling his long-lost childhoodpanion. That memory was etched in his mind as if branded there. But his thoughts shifted to Leah, who was still in danger, and the little red horse she had once given him.


    ��Roar?�� The red dragon��s head tilted slightly, sensing Aemon��s silence, then lifted itself up and climbed out of the dark stone prison, its wings unfolding as it took in its newfound freedom. The night sky sprawled above them, dotted with stars, the city below alight with fires. Aemon looked up, recognizing the constetions Ursa Major and Ursa Minor shining clearly for the first time in ages.


    ��They��ve reunited too,�� he murmured, a smile crossing his face as he ignored the stinging in his scraped palms. With this dragon, he could finally go home.


    ��Roar!�� The red dragon��s excitement mounted as it saw the fires scattered across the city, eager to unleash its fury. An idea sparked in Aemon��s mind, and he leaned down, saying, ��Big guy, how about Ursarion? You were born fierce, weren��t you?��


    The dragon snorted indifferently at the name, caring little about titles. Its massive wings unfurled, catching the breeze as itunched into the sky, its blood-red wings stretching wide, seeming to scatter stars with each beat.


    Below, ranks of Unsullied clustered around the Great Pyramid, alert and tense. Aemon looked down, a surge of pride filling his heart as he relished his new title��dragon rider. His voice rang out with perfect rity: ��<em>Dracarys</em>, Ursarion!��


    Boom!


    Bright red Dragonfire rained down like molten blood, drenching the Unsullied below. Their screams echoed as armor twisted and bodies turned to ash beneath the dragon��s wrath.


    The dragon��now Ursarion��swooped low over the Great Pyramid, its vertical pupils gleaming with cold fury as it burned everything in its sight, exacting revenge on those who had captured and chained it, those who had wronged them both.


    ��Follow me, Ursarion,�� Aemonmanded, gripping the dark red dorsal fin firmly as they descended toward the Pyramid��s entrance, eyes fixed on the vestibule ahead.


    Tonight, vengeance was their guiding fire.


    ...


    Meanwhile, in the vestibule:


    Irina, who had been preparing for bed, heard themotion and rushed outside, eyes widening as she spotted the red dragon hovering in the sky. "What''s going on!?" she yelled.


    Suddenly, she grabbed the bald wizard by the cor of his red robe, her voice a furious hiss. "Exin yourself! Why has the dragon escaped?" She strained her eyes; there was another figure on the dragon''s back. Someone had tamed it.


    "Your Grace, you must leave at once," the wizard replied calmly, recognizing that the red dragon was now a threat to them.


    Irina��s expression shifted to horror. She spun to flee, but it was already toote.


    Boom!


    A torrent of crimson Dragonfire rained down, obliterating the Unsullied stationed in the forecourt. With a heavy thud, the dragon��now an unbridled force of ragended before her. Irina stood frozen, watching in horror as the soldiers around her were incinerated in a burst of blood-red me.


    ��Roar!��


    The dragon, Ursarion, unleashed a furious bellow, its merciless gaze fixed on those who had once tried to tame it. Among them was Irina, who trembled as the dragon and its rider approached her slowly. She could make out the figure now, and a chilling recognition set in.


    ��You�� it��s you?�� she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. Aemon sat astride the dragon��s back, looking down at his former captor with a calm, relieved expression.


    Aemon didn��t reply. Instead, he patted Ursarion��s back, bringing the dragon��s head level with Irina and the others. The dragon��s amber eyes gleamed with deadly intent.


    ��What do you want?�� Irina forced out, trying to keep herposure, but her shaking legs betrayed her.


    Aemon regarded her coldly, extending his hand. ��My mother��s ne. Return it to me.��


    Irina��s hand went to the pendant hanging around her neck��a dragon-headed piece of Valyrian steel. For a moment, she hesitated, but Aemon��s unwavering gaze left her no choice. She ripped the ne from her neck and passed it to the bald wizard. ��Give it to him,�� she ordered.


    The wizard��s face paled as he approached Aemon, his steps slow, as if each one brought him closer to certain doom. Finally, he handed Aemon the pendant, who took it with a faint smile, rubbing the dragon pendant thoughtfully before cing it back around his neck.


    The bald wizard began to turn, thinking the exchangeplete.


    ��Roar!��


    Ursarion��s mouth opened wide, releasing a fresh wave of Dragonfire, this time directed at the wizard. He barely had time to scream as the mes consumed him, his red robes igniting and his skin melting away, leaving only a pool of blood and ash in his ce.


    Witnessing the gruesome sight, the remaining maids and guards attempted to flee.


    ��Dracarys,�� Aemonmanded softly.


    Ursarion��s eyes shed with savage glee, and it unleashed its fiery breath, scorching all those within reach. Their desperate cries filled the air before they, too, were reduced to smoldering remnants.


    ��No�� no, no���� Irina backed away, her body trembling as she struggled to escape.


    With a low growl, Ursarion lunged, its jaws snapping down on her shoulder, tearing away her arm and swallowing it whole. Piece by piece, the dragon dismembered her, reducing her to silence in six brutal bites, until only one blood-soaked leg remained.


    Aemon looked down at the remains without a shred of remorse. He spoke softly, as if to himself, ��There is only one Dragonlord family in this world, and you taught me that lesson well.��


    His journey, marked by suffering and betrayal, had confirmed the harsh reality of survival in a world ruled by power. ��I won��t consume you, but you will live on in me,�� he whispered, ncing up at the stars with closed eyes.


    ��Roar!�� Ursarion bellowed, its mighty form lifting into the sky, its wings carrying it above the burning city below. Tonight, the mes would dance until dawn, and sleep would be banished from Meereen.

 Chapter 688: Brothers Reunite

    Chapter 688: Brothers Reunite


    Three dayster...


    The Great Pyramid, Meereen.


    Thousands of ves gathered in the square, their eyes fixed nervously on the towering pyramid. After days of turmoil, the city had returned to an uneasy peace, signifying another shift in power.


    Knock, knock, knock!


    A rhythmic knocking echoed across the square as an army of Unsullied emerged from either side of the Great Pyramid. d in ck armor and spiked helmets, they moved in disciplined silence. Though not many��perhaps a thousand��they formed an imposing line. Behind them trailed a procession of ves, leading horse-drawn carts shrouded in white cloth. The nk of chains filled the air as the carts rolled over the cracked stone floor. The ves cast uneasy nces around, sensing that something momentous was about to happen.


    "Roar!"


    A thunderous dragon��s roar shattered the tense silence. The ves flinched, looking skyward in terror toward the source of the sound. Momentster, the clouds twisted and the wind howled as a young dragon, its body a brilliant, blood-red, burst through the clouds. It spread its wings wide and swooped down over the square, circling twice before descending to the forecourt of the Great Pyramid, low enough to remain visible to all.


    Boom!


    The dragonnded with a resounding thud, sending up clouds of searing dust. Screams erupted among the ves, and they scrambled back in panic. The Unsullied swiftly moved to contain themotion, encircling the square and restoring order."Roar!"


    The dragon issued another ear-splitting roar, its cold, unblinking eyes fixed on the crowd. It slowly lowered its long neck, its back fin twitching.


    "Quiet, Ursarion," Aemonmanded softly, gripping the dragon��s fin spikes firmly. Barefoot and still dressed in the coarse, rough fabric of a ve, he looked down at the crowd from the dragon��s back. Only the faintest hint of silver-blonde hair now crowned his head, a small change, yet his demeanor radiated a strength that felt worlds apart from the ve he once had been.


    The entire square fell silent. The ves trembled, peering cautiously at the young man atop the dragon, recognizing him as one of their own yet struck by the strange power he exuded. None dared speak.


    Aemon gazed out over them, then reached inside his tunic and drew forth a whip with a handle carved into the shape of a Harpy. Holding it high, he let it hang in the air for all to see.


    Thwack!


    In response, the Unsullied struck their round shields with their spears, the resounding ngs echoing through the square. That whip had once belonged to the "Queen with Silver Hair," Irina Daeryon, but had fallen into Aemon��s hands amid the chaos of the recent uprising.


    Since the Iron Throne��s invasion, ver��s Bay had been left weakened. Meereen��s defenses had relied heavily on the 5,000 pirates led by Racallio and 2,500 Unsullied purchased from Astapor. After Irina��s death, Racallio had fled with his pirates, leaving the city defenseless. The Unsullied had suffered heavy losses, reduced to just 1,300 men. With Irina gone, Aemon had takenmand of the Unsullied, seizing control over the leaderless city.


    Crack!


    The whip cracked through the air, its sharp report pulling every gaze back to him.


    ��Where is your master, you wretched ves!?�� Aemon��s voice rang out, loud and clear as he surveyed the crowd.


    The ves nced nervously at one another, too weak to respond. Their masters had vanished in the chaos long ago, leaving them to survive in the dpidated ve huts.


    ��You don��t know, so I��ll tell you!�� Aemon brandished his whip, pointing emphatically toward the square. ��The ones who once enved you stand before you now!��


    Crack! Crack!


    The sharp sound of whips cut through the air, followed by frightened cries as arge group of ves emerged from behind the Great Pyramid. They wielded long whips and spiked sticks, driving forward a line of ve owners. Once d in luxury, the masters�� finery was now tattered and bloodstained, their hands bound with coarse ropes. They stumbled forward like cattle, pushed along in strings by their former ves.


    The sight stunned the crowd. Some of the women screamed, recoiling at the brutal disy. It had been years since they��d witnessed such a scene��thest time being during the bloody invasion by the Iron Throne, which had left many dead and had swiftly restored the ve-owning ss to power.


    Aemon raised himself on the back of the dragon to appear taller, his voice resounding through the square. ��These are the Great Masters who once enved you!�� He gestured toward the bound captives. ��The false Dragonlord is dead, and ver��s Bay will finally be liberated!��


    The ves stared at him, suspicion and hope flickering in their eyes. Aemon��s whip pointed to the first cart in the line, signaling the Unsullied to pull away the white cloth. Beneath ity a towering pile of chains and shackles, stacked high and pressing the wheels into the ground, as though the entire city��s iron restraints had been gathered there.


    Before the crowd of thousands, Aemon spoke with calm authority. ��Dracarys!�� He tossed the whip into the cart.


    ��Roar!��


    The red dragon responded, unleashing a stream of searing fire onto the pile. The shackles glowed and deformed in the heat, slowly melting under the relentless ze. For half an hour, the dragonfire roared over the iron, reducing it to seven or eight red-hot mounds of molten metal, each several meters high. A ve with a hammer climbed onto the cart, striking the molten iron, melding the piles together in a unified mass. It took shape under his blows, gradually resembling the foundations of an Iron Chair��but with shackle loops recing sharp des.


    Aemon watched intently, taking in every detail, including the twisted remnants of the shackles. He imagined the final throne: not a seat of sharp swords, but a powerful symbol made from the very chains that had once bound his people.


    The gathered ves watched with growing awe, beginning to understand the spectacle. The Unsullied, stoic as ever, betrayed a rare glimmer of emotion when they saw the whip��s destruction.


    ��Today, Meereen is liberated��forever!�� Aemon��s voice rose as he lifted an arm in a solemn deration. ��No more ves, no more masters��only equal citizens under the Iron Throne!��


    His words struck deep, and a quiet fell over the crowd, the magnitude of his vow holding them captive. The metal mounds cooled slowly, the beginnings of the Iron Chair visible amidst the iron shackle loops.


    Aemon rode out of the courtyard on his red dragon, moving closer to the oppressed ves. ��My father failed to truly free Meereen. From this day forward, I will rule here, and I will crush the evil of very once and for all!�� His voice echoed through the square. ��No one deserves to be a ve. My father said that ver��s Bay was difficult to govern because of its remoteness. But I will achieve what he could not.��


    He raised his arm in a sweeping gesture. ��I dere that there are no more ves!��


    Aemon��s eyes burned as he urged his dragon forward, drawing near to the crowd of downtrodden ves, his voice carrying fervently, ��Who wants to be free?��


    ��Me!�� a voice cried out, quickly followed by a chorus of others.


    The ves pressed closer, surrounding the majestic red dragon as Aemon lifted his arm and brought it down in a decisive gesture.


    A dreadful silence fell as, one by one, the ve overseers raised their spears and drove them into the kneeling ve owners, their captives who had once ruled over them with iron fists. Blood spilled across the stone as ve owners of all ages fell: men, women, and cunning old viins alike. Only the youngest children were spared, but every other family member tied to very paid the price, including the remnants of Daeryon��s house, their final stand extinguished with merciless efficiency.


    ��Hero!��


    ��You are our hero����


    The ves gathered around the silver-haired boy on the dragon��s back, their eyes filled with awe. They had no understanding of the Dragonlord��s House or its power. What they saw was the boy��s ve attire, the deration of liberation, and the grand act of ying the Great Masters. Their cheers filled the air as they tore off the remnants of their shackles, throwing them high above their heads. Though the iron had long ceased to bind their bodies, the invisible chains of oppression had bound their spirits. For now, they ced their trust in the young figure on the dragon��s back.


    Aemon, breathing heavily, regarded the crowd without fear. He understood the psychology of the enved, shaped by his own life of hardship and servitude.


    ��King of Meereen!��


    ��Your Grace of ver��s Bay!��


    The cheers grew louder as the ves pressed closer around the towering red dragon, longing for a ruler who could shatter their bonds. The King of the Iron Throne had tried but failed to bring themsting freedom. Now, in Aemon, they found a new liberator. He took a deep breath and epted the titles they bestowed, knowing that to truly free ver��s Bay, he would need to remain there��perhaps for life. He had his own Iron Throne to rule from now.


    Knock, knock, knock!


    The Unsullied soldiers joined the crowd, striking their spears against their round shields in a solemn show of loyalty. Many among them had once been ves, liberated and given purpose by the Iron Throne. If their predecessors could fight for freedom, they, too, could fulfill that role under Aemon��smand.


    Aemon surveyed the scene and considered the future of Meereen. His mind formted a strategy: he would establish an identity-tagging system simr to that of the Free Cities, ensuring a structured hierarchy to stabilize the Bay and help suppress unrest. He envisioned robust maritime trade between Meereen and the Free Cities of both East and West, Qarth, Asshai, and beyond. The very name of ver��s Bay needed to change, he thought, to erase the shame and pain of its past.


    ��Roar!��


    A sudden dragon��s cry echoed from the distance. Startled, Aemon whipped around, his heart hammering as his eyes searched the sky.


    Boom!


    A sh of silver-gray sliced through the mist, soaring through the clouds. Aemon��s gaze locked on the glimmering figure, his breath catching in his throat as emotion swelled within him, bringing tears to his eyes.


    ��Roar!��


    The silver-gray dragon descended, its shimmering form circling the enormous Harpy statue atop the Great Pyramid. A younger boy with short silver hair rode upon the dragon��s back, his sapphire-like eyes sweeping over the scene below. He noticed the red dragon, the Unsullied, and the countless ves gazing up in rapture. His stare fixed on the red dragon, and then on Aemon. His expression froze in shock as his eyes widened.


    ��Land, Tyraxes!�� Maekar leaned forward, patting the dragon��s back urgently.


    ��Roar!��


    Tyraxes let out a sharp cry and descended gracefully, its silver-gray scales catching the sunlight and throwing brilliant hues across the square as itnded beside the red dragon.


    ��Ahhh!��


    The crowd gasped, startled by the sudden arrival of the second dragon. They backed away, murmuring in awe and confusion.


    Boom!


    Tyraxesnded with a heavy thud, and the red dragon��s cold, vertical pupils fixed upon the neer with a wary hostility. But Aemon had already leaped down, his feet hitting the ground before Maekar could even dismount.


    ��Roar!��


    The red dragon��s gaze was sharp and unyielding as it observed Tyraxes. Aemon, ignoring the dragons�� silent standoff, ran forward, crossing the space between them. The sight of the familiar silver-gray dragon, and the boy with tinum hair standing before him, stirred an overwhelming surge of joy within him, as if he had been swept into the sky himself.


    He stopped, his pupils trembling with emotion, his mouth opening to speak, though no words came.


    ��Aemon.��


    Maekar took a hesitant step forward, eyes wide with disbelief. The name slipped from his lips just as a gust of wind whipped around them. Aemon��s vision blurred, and, without another thought, he opened his arms and dashed forward.


    ��Aemon!�� Maekar called again, stepping into the embrace with no hesitation.


    In the span of seconds, the brothers closed the distance between them, meeting in a fierce hug. Neither had expected to find each other here in ver��s Bay, yet now, face-to-face, their emotions erupted like a volcano, impossible to contain.


    ��Maekar���� Aemon��s voice was thick with emotion as he clutched his younger brother tightly, resting his chin on Maekar��s shoulder, fearful that he might vanish if he let go. His tears fell freely, dampening his face as he held on. Half a year��six endless months��had passed since he��dst seen family, a brother bound to him by blood.


    Maekar silently closed his eyes, tightening his arms around Aemon, returning the hug with quiet, heartfelt strength. In their embrace, words became unnecessary; everything they felt was conveyed in the warmth and intensity of their hold. Atst, after what felt like an eternity, they reluctantly parted.


    Aemon sniffed, managing a small, embarrassed smile. ��Maekar, why did youe to Meereen?��


    Their rtionship had once been strained, with Aemon pushing his brother away. Now, reunited, the distance between them felt like a lifetime ago.


    ��I heard rumors of dragons in Meereen, so I came to see for myself.�� Maekar wiped his eyes and smiled, ncing over at the red dragon that stood patiently behind Aemon. ��I should have known it would be you. Always relentless, aren��t you?��


    He studied the dragon��s formidable form, noting its calm obedience. ��Even the dragons have been tamed once more. It seems you��ve moved on from the death of the Trickster.�� Maekar��s expression softened. He was grateful that the dragon had found its way back to Aemon rather than falling into another��s hands.


    Aemon��s face flushed, and he lowered his gaze. ��It��s all in the past now. If I��d known how things would turn out�� I never would have acted the way I did.��


    ��I told you, it��s all in the past.�� Maekar pulled him in for another quick embrace and whispered, "When news of your disappearance reached us, it was as if the sky itself had fallen for Mother and Father. You don��t know how we worried, you rascal."


    Aemon returned the hug, voice thick with unspoken sentiment. "I wanted toe back sooner����"But he caught himself, sensing that reason had overridden emotion in the end. ��But it wasn��t until now that I was finally able to break free.��


    ��Are you really all right?�� Maekar��s eyes flickered with concern, his small hands lightly tracing Aemon��s back. Beneath the rough fabric, he could feel the uneven ridges of scars, a map of the pain he��d endured. He said nothing, only held him tightly, his sapphire-blue eyes briefly shing with a deep, quiet pity he kept hidden.


    ...


    The Great Pyramid.


    With a tremendous crash, the bronze statue of the Harpy at the pyramid��s peak toppled to the ground, shattering a vast section of the square below. Freed from their chains, young men who had once been ves tugged on thick ropes, cutting the statue into pieces. Using logs as makeshift rollers, they hauled the fragments away, leaving only empty ground where the Harpy had once loomed. Soon, a fire was lit, consuming thest vestiges of the old symbol.


    Inside the pce within the tower��


    ��So, what are you nning next? Heading back to Westeros?�� Maekar asked, breaking the silence as he and Aemon sat across from each other at the dining table.


    His father had sent him to Vntis to assist their younger uncle, Daeron, with developing the Golden Fields, and to keep a watchful eye on ver��s Bay. Now, with the Golden Fields mostly established and Meereen in new hands, he thought it might be time to return to Westeros and help shoulder the burdens of the Iron Throne alongside his father and older brother, Baelon.


    Aemon tore into his food, his brow furrowing as he thought. ��I��ll wait a while. There��s still something I need to recover.��


    ��Where is it?�� Maekar��s eyes narrowed with interest, ready to assist.


    ��It��s�� well���� Aemon��s voice trailed off as he paused, lost in thought.


    Ding-dong-ding-dong!


    The bells of Meereen tolled urgently, ringing three times in rapid session��a signal that a powerful enemy approached the city gates. The brothers�� expressions changed, and they rose in unison, moving quickly toward the window.


    Stepping onto the balcony, they took in the scene unfolding below.


    Outside the gates of Meereen, a dark sea of Dothraki cavalry stretched to the horizon. Tens of thousands of mounted warriors clustered in a massive force, the sunlight glinting off their weapons and the unruly waves of dark hair. Aemon��s eyes narrowed, his gaze sharpening as he fixed on the tall figure at the head of the horde, astride a red-maned horse. The figure seemed familiar, stirring a shadowy memory. Though he couldn��t ce the man��s face, he vividly recalled the sensation of being bound and captured.


    The Dothraki leader held a sword with a ruby embedded in its hilt��a Valyrian steel de Aemon recognized instantly as a symbol of the Iron Throne. His grip tightened at the sight.


    Outside the city gates, Khal Osk raised the sword with both hands, his expression grave as he signaled his 100,000 troops into a tense silence. Once a trusted ally to the king of the Iron Throne, Osk had assisted in the capture of Myr, even earning the king��s gratitude. But after pledging allegiance to the one-eyed Aemond and enduring the battles at Qohor, his respect for the Targaryen name had been tainted with fear and resentment.


    ��Roar!��


    From the horizon came the sound of dragons. Two great figures��one red and one silver-gray��circled each other in the sky, their eyes locked in fierce rivalry. They prowled the air, their scales glinting under the sun as they prepared for the fiery sh, each dragon��s breath simmering with barely-contained Dragonfire.

 Chapter 689: The Tragedy of Seasmoke

    Chapter 689: The Tragedy of Seasmoke


    Snow fell thick and heavy, each ke settling into a three-foot nket across the frozen ground.


    <em>Shhh...</em>


    Rhaegar, cloaked in a ck robe, walked alone through the snow, his steps slow and steady.


    "Where am I?" he muttered, frowning as he scanned the destendscape. The scene felt eerily familiar, like he was near the Fist of the First Men. Yet, something about it was different. After a few steps, he stopped, an uneasy feeling tugging at him. ncing down at his right hand, he realized he couldn��t feel the usual, dull tremor from his old injury.


    In that instant, rity struck him. <em>This is a dream,</em> he realized, <em>a dream spun from memories.</em>


    He continued toward the Great Wall, the thought of his homnd tugging at his mind. "I wonder how things are faring in the North," he mused aloud. His gaze hardened as he thought of the Night King, an opponent of unnatural origin and powers. Rhaegar knew that even one misstep could tip the scales of victory.


    A saying echoed in his mind: <em>If you think of something here, it may respond.</em>


    As if on cue, the soft crunch of snow was joined by another sound��rhythmic, and growing louder.


    <em>Tap, tap...</em>He paused, looking up. To his shock, an army of undead marched against the howling wind, their dead eyes fixed straight ahead. They moved past him like he wasn��t there, each step mechanical and unseeing. Yet, Rhaegar felt his instincts re, a whisper of something watching him closely.


    A guttural croak sounded, and suddenly, a dream-eating toad crawled out from his hair, perching on his head. Its gray, round body settled, and its dark, greenish eyes turned to the shadows.


    Following its gaze, Rhaegar peered back. His eyes met a cold, unyielding stare��a pair of ice-blue eyes piercing through the storm. The Night King stepped out from the blizzard, gripping a spear of crystalline ice, his face devoid of emotion.


    An unspoken tension rippled through the air as their gazes locked. The undead around them parted, forming a wide circle between the two figures. A ckened mound of snowy at its center, a boundary between man and wraith. After a measured pause, the Night King crossed it, his gaze burning with intent.


    Rhaegar tightened his grip on ckfyre, the ancient sword of his house. "You��re real, aren��t you?" he said, voice steady, his eyes never leaving his enemy.


    There was no answer, only the Night King��s slow, unyielding approach, his icy gaze promising nothing but death.


    <em>ng!</em>


    ckfyre and the ice spear collided with a resounding crack, shards of ice exploding into the air. The Night King��s movements were rigid, his attacks a series of precise but predictable patterns. Rhaegar narrowed his eyes, suspicion ring. <em>He��s holding back,</em> he thought, pressing forward with a feint, his de sweeping low before twisting up to guard his throat.


    In that moment, the Night King hesitated, his eyes flickering briefly. Rhaegar capitalized, advancing swiftly, his stance a blend of offense and defense, probing for a weakness in his foe��s icy resolve. The Night King raised his spear, parrying Rhaegar��s feint, but his blue eyes held a flicker of wariness, recognizing the danger now before him.


    <em>ng!</em>


    ckfyre scraped along the ice-coated spear and, with perfect precision, pierced through the Night King''s throat, cutting through the icy armor as though it were nothing but brittle paper. The ck de drove cleanly from front to back, skewering the Night King in one swift strike.


    ��Huh?�� Rhaegar breathed, momentarily stunned. <em>It can��t be this easy,</em> he thought, a feeling of unease stirring in him.


    With a final nce down, the Night King''s body suddenly dissolved into fine powder, scattering into the wind.


    <em>Poof!</em>


    Rhaegar took a step back, sheathing ckfyre, yet there was no satisfaction, no sense of victory.


    <em>tter!</em>


    All around him, the dead fell to pieces, limbs copsing into the pristine snow, scattering the ground with broken remnants of the wight army.


    ��Something��s wrong,�� Rhaegar muttered, eyes narrowing as he scanned the clearing. The Night King had been far more formidable in battle against the Wall��s defenders; his strength shouldn��t have waned so easily.


    <em>Hoo-hoo!</em>


    A biting wind whipped up a blinding whirlwind of snow, howling and spinning with eerie force. And when it finally settled, the Night King stood once again, wounds healed, advancing with the same icy, unrelenting gaze.


    Rhaegar��s eyes widened as he raised his sword to meet the foe once more.


    <em>ng!</em>


    The weapons shed, and ckfyre sliced through the Night King''s chest.


    <em>ng!</em> Another strike shattered the ice spear, and ckfyre��s de took the head cleanly from its shoulders.


    <em>ng! ng!</em> Rhaegar��s blows dismantled the armor, cleaving the body in half, yet no matter how many times he struck, the Night King rose, over and over, a spectral figure reforming each time with unearthly resilience.


    Rhaegar panted, catching his breath as he waited, expecting the Night King to rise yet again. ��Because it��s a dream�� so it can��t die?��


    <em>Hoo��</em>


    The wind died down, and the Night King appeared once more, unscathed. As ckfyre and the ice spear met, the strength of the Night King''s thrust forced Rhaegar back, the White Walker��s physical power undeniable. Rhaegar stumbled, taking two swift steps back, his eyes darkening with wariness.


    The Night King��s ice-blue gaze glinted as he closed in, twisting sideways to deliver a feint��a move Rhaegar recognized as his own from their first encounter.


    <em>ng!</em> Rhaegar��s de blocked the thrust, slicing the Night King''s wrist with a backhanded cut. Yet, instead of pressing the advantage, Rhaegar stepped back, studying his foe��s calcted stance. This was no mere skirmish; the Night King was mimicking his techniques, as if testing him, perhaps honing its own skills.


    In a bold move, the Night King crouched, calmly picking up his severed hand. cing it over his wounded wrist, he slowly twisted it back into ce.


    <em>Z z...</em>


    Frost spread over the wound, seamlessly binding the wrist and hand together. Beneath the pale, icy skin, blue veins pulsed back to life, restoring his form as though nothing had happened.


    ��So he really is immortal,�� Rhaegar gasped. His opponent was using this dreamlike state to its advantage, manipting the endless cycle of death and rebirth.


    But Rhaegar wasn��t about to be yed with.


    With a grim look, he raised a hand and brought it down sharply, mming it against his head.


    ��Croak!��


    The Dream Eater, hidden on his head and observing the battle, let out an indignant croak.


    <em>Pop!</em>


    The dream world shattered instantly, fracturing into fragments like delicate bubbles, breaking apart into nothingness.


    As Rhaegar��s form began to fade, his gaze held steady, locked on the Night King, who still advanced, unyielding, with that deathless, unblinking stare.


    Until both figures finally dissolved��Rhaegar fading into thin air as the Night King��s icy form crumbled into dust, thest remnants of the dream dissipating into the void.


    ...


    The continent of Essos, deep within the Shadow Lands.


    ��Roar����


    A dragon as ck as coal soared through the murky skies. Above the clouds, the air was thick and gray, filled with an oppressive, hazy gloom.


    On the dragon��s back, Rhaegar stirred, his eyelids twitching slightly before he opened his eyes fully.


    ��You��re awake?�� came a smooth, maic voice beside him.


    Turning, he found himself gazing into the face of the red priestess, her features framed by the shifting shadows and the soft glow of her fiery eyes.


    Rhaegar blinked, still groggy. ��How long was I asleep?�� he asked, feeling for something solid. His handnded on soft skin beneath his head, and he realized she had been offering herp as a pillow. Kneeling gracefully, her legs folded under her, the priestess looked down at him with a serious expression.


    ��We��re nearly there,�� she said, her gaze steady. ��Asshai, at the eastern edge of the world.��


    At this, Rhaegar��s eyes widened, and a sharp ache red at his temples. He pressed a hand to his forehead.


    ��Roar!�� The wind shifted with a keening dragon��s cry as a second shadow streaked past them. Rhaegar turned, spotting a younger dragon trailing close behind, its scales gleaming cobalt blue with a striking copper underbelly stretching from its jaw to its abdomen. The dragon was over thirty meters long, sleek and fierce.


    Riding atop it was his younger brother, Daeron. Short silver-blonde hair swept down to frame his ears, and he gave Rhaegar a slight nod. Beside him on the dragon��s back sat a bald man, skin decorated with intricate tattoos��a figure Rhaegar recognized as Varys, the caretaker of the Topless Tower, draped in his own crimson robes. Seeing the two of them helped clear Rhaegar��s disoriented mind.


    ��Ah,�� Rhaegar winced, rubbing his temples. ��My head����


    The red priestess gave him a faint smile as he shifted, pulling away from her embrace.


    <em>Now I remember,</em> he thought, piecing together the fragments. He had left the North, flying east across the Narrow Sea, determined to find the red priestess and the mysterious Varys to seek healing for his injured right arm.


    When they had refused, he��d resolved to go to Asshai. Along the way, in the Golden Fields, he had fallen ill, trembling and convulsing uncontrobly. Afraid for his safety, he��d asked Daeron to apany him on the journey as his escort.


    ��We��ve arrived in Asshai,�� he said finally, gazing down as they descended. Below, at the juncture of shadowed mountains and the Jade Sea, stretched the strange and sprawling city, shrouded in fog and deep, imprable shadows.


    This was Asshai, the heart of the Shadow Lands.


    ...


    The North, The Wall.


    Snow nketed the ground, stretching endlessly, blending the sky and earth in a vast white haze. Across the Haunted Forest, a legion of wights marched steadily toward Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. Yet, amidst their ranks, the figure of their king was absent.


    Far beyond the Wall, footsteps crunched through the snow.


    <em>Tap, tap��</em>


    The Night King emerged from the Haunted Forest, a solitary figure against the bleakndscape. He stared intently at the Wall��s towering silhouette, distant yet imposing. Above, hundreds of Night''s Watchmen stood on the battlements, calling out to one another, stoking their fires as they prepared for the inevitable assault.


    This stronghold, situated between Castle ck and Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, was strategically positioned to unite the defenses along the Wall��s eastern edge. Few fortresses remained in active use, and the men here were vignt, yet oblivious to the silent predator observing from the shadows.


    ��Roar!��


    A light silver dragon emerged from the Wall, sweeping along its length in a patrol to the west. The dragon, Seasmoke, stretched over forty meters in length, with scales that glimmered faintly in the cold light, blending almost seamlessly with the snowy expanse. Though young, he was already a gifted leader among his kin.


    ��Easy now, Seasmoke,�� called Laenor, crouched on the dragon��s back, his cloak whipping around him in the icy wind. Assigned to guard this fortress, Laenor took to patrolling the Wall every few days.


    Seasmoke, however, was restless. Its light-silver scales shivered as it rose and fell through the air, careful not to stray far from the Wall. The North��s chill gnawed at it, dulling its once lively nature. It had barely eaten since arriving, its appetite fading as the cold numbed its vigor.


    Down below, the Night King watched with cial patience, his ice-blue eyes narrowing. Slowly, he lifted one finger, dragging it across his throat in a deliberate, menacing gesture. Reaching over his shoulder, he drew an ice-crystal spear, sharp and deadly.


    ...


    Above, Seasmoke continued its watchful flight, its breath misting in the frigid air. But then, with startling speed, the Night King hurled the spear.


    ��Roar!��


    A pained scream erupted from Seasmoke as the ice spear pierced its neck, shattering scales and puncturing deep into its flesh. Hot, steaming dragon blood spilled into the snow below, staining it a vivid crimson.


    ��Hold steady, Seasmoke!�� Laenor cried, gripping his saddle as the dragon twisted in agony. But Seasmoke''s body convulsed, writhing uncontrobly despite its rider��s attempts to calm it.


    ��Roar!��


    Atst, Seasmoke plummeted, spiraling down like a wounded hawk, crashing heavily into the snow just outside the Wall. A great plume of snow exploded on impact.


    ��Seasmoke is down!��


    The Night��s Watchmen gasped in shock, scrambling down from the Wall to reach the fallen beast. Yet a pale figure moved toward the crash site faster than any of them.


    ...


    The dragon��s great formy sprawled in the snow, eyes dimming, breath shallow. Laenory slumped beside him, covered in wounds, one leg twisted unnaturally. In the dragon��s final moments, Seasmoke had shifted to cushion its rider��s fall, sparing Laenor from certain death.


    The Night King loomed over them, his gaze fixed on the dragon��s fading, bloodshot eyes.


    ��Roar~~��


    Seasmoke��s mouth opened, a final, desperate breath escaping as it summoned thest of his strength. With a ferocious surge, it unleashed a torrent of Dragonfire, searing hot and mixed with sorrow, its light-silver scales glinting in the fire��s fierce glow. The mes zed with an intense heat, consuming every ounce of its life force.


    One second. Two seconds��


    The fire died, leaving the snow charred and ckened. Yet, as the smoke cleared, the Night King stood unscathed, his form dark against the charred ground, eyes cold and impassive.


    Seasmoke��s pupils contracted, its wing twitching as it made onest feeble attempt to bite, its mighty jaws opening with a final, defiant snap.


    <em>Bang!</em>


    The dragon��s head fell, its vision consumed by darkness as his massive body settled into stillness.


    The wind picked up, swirling snow in silent spirals. The Night��s Watchmen, just arriving at the scene, halted, paralyzed by the frigid gust that swept past them, a coldness deeper than the North��s chill.


    And as they stood, the wind seemed to howl with ament, a solemn requiem that filled the air as if the very snow and wind mourned the fallen dragon, their silent sorrow heavy on the bitter night.


    ...


    Two dayster, in the icy stronghold of Eastwatch-by-the-Sea...


    Corlys, draped in a coat fashioned from the pelt of a snow bear, paced along the Great Wall as usual, braving the biting wind. As he passed, sailors from the Vryon fleet stood at attention.


    ��My lord,�� they saluted.


    One of them, a capable young man with short, silver-and-gold hair, was assisting themander by distributing charcoal fires and hot soup to the men.


    ��Alyn, what''s the situation?�� Corlys called out, catching sight of him.


    Alyn halted, stepping forward quickly to respond. ��My lord, we��re well-supplied, even after sharing resources with Castle ck.��


    ��Mm.�� Corlys nodded thoughtfully.


    After a brief pause, Alyn added, ��My brother sent word. The Golden ins garrison has been settled. He asks if we should proceed directly to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea to assist?��


    ��Not yet,�� Corlys replied, his face growing serious. ��War is not aplished in a day, and we can��tmit all of our strength to it just yet. Tell your brother to return to Driftmark Ind first.��


    ��Yes, my lord.�� Alyn gave a firm nod and turned to ensure the sailors were properly equipped with dragon ss weapons.


    Corlys observed this with a hint of relief.


    Just then, hurried footsteps approached from behind.


    ��Corlys,e quickly!�� Rhaenys''s voice broke through the wind, trembling slightly with urgency.


    Corlys turned, his brow furrowing. ��What��s happened that has you so anxious?��


    ��A letter! It��s from Laenor.�� Rhaenys held out an opened letter, her hand unsteady.


    Corlys��s gaze turned grave as he took the letter, feeling its crinkled edges under his fingers. Just as he began to read, a sudden roar thundered across the open wilderness, reverberating for miles around.


    They turned together, eyes wide with rm.


    Meleys��s fierce pupils glinted with a feral light as it rose slowly, its dark red wings casting a shadow across thendscape. The beast exuded an intense aura of menace, like a crimson bolt of lightning ready to unleash divine wrath.


    ��Meleys... what��s wrong with it?�� Corlys��s eyes widened, sensing something amiss.


    Despite its advanced age of seventy years, Meleys had grown increasingly lethargic. Ever since arriving in the North, the dragon had taken to sleeping at the base of the city walls, rarely stirring. For it to awaken in such a state... something was dreadfully wrong.


    A deep rumbling rose as snow and wind whipped into a tempest outside the Great Wall. The swirling storm blurred thendscape, but through the chaos, dark figures appeared.


    Corlys clenched his fists, his gaze sweeping over the distant horde. ��The Others are here.��


    Through the howling wind and snow, a vast army of wights marched toward the Wall, countless as ants in an anthill. Their shadowy forms filled thend, and dark clouds loomed over them.


    ��Roar!��


    A piercing dragon��s cry echoed��a strange, eerie sound, as if some dark force constricted its throat.


    From the dark clouds above, a dragon with icy blue eyes crashed through, diving headfirst toward the Wall, before rising and hovering above the wight army. Atop the dragon, a pale figure rode in the saddle.


    ��The Night... the Night King?�� Rhaenys''s eyes red with defiance as she gritted her teeth.


    With a thunderous rumble, Meleysnded on the city wall, spreading its wings wide, shielding its rider from the piercing cold as the winds screamed around them.

 Chapter 690: The Red Dragon and the Ice Dragon

    Chapter 690: The Red Dragon and the Ice Dragon


    "How could this be?" Corlys could hardly stand in the wind as he stared straight at the pale dragon.


    The appearance was all too familiar. But now, its vertical pupils had turned ice blue, and its scales were as pale as snow. Not only was one of its horns broken, but its wing membranes were damaged to varying degrees. It looked like a seriously injured dragon that had survived a brutal battle.


    "Roar!" The pale dragon let out a long howl, raising its head as its muzzle split open in an unnatural manner, revealing a broken jawbone.


    Above, the Night King raised his head proudly, and his dragon took flight, soaring toward the impregnable Wall. In his hand, he raised a spear of ice crystals.


    Boom! A silent cry reverberated, and the army of dead responded with a collective roar. The pale dragon swooped down, its gullet filled with frost-white dragonfire. The Night��s Watchmen stood dumbstruck, paralyzed by terror.


    They all realized something crucial��the White Walkers who once couldn''t get over the Wall now had the power to leap it.


    "We have to stop it, Meleys," Rhaenys said with fierce determination, quickly climbing onto the dragon''s back. Once she fastened the saddle, Meleys pped its wings and soared into the sky.


    "Dragonfire!" Rhaenys nced back at her husband and gave themand with steely resolve.


    "Roar!" Meleys, swift as lightning, hurtled toward the pale dragon and unleashed a cascade of crimson dragonfire.Corlys stood on the battlements, watching in shock as his wife rode out to confront their ancient enemies. She��d vowed, "Don��t take a single step back, Corlys," determined to keep the White Walkers at bay. The weight of her words hit him deeply, and emotions surged within him. Turning to his men, he shouted, "Prepare for battle, quickly! Draw your weapons!"


    Alyn poked his head out from behind the battlements and shouted, "Draw your weapons!" as he raised his dragonss spear. The rallying cry spread across Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, and both the Night��s Watch and House Vryon��s sailors took up their longbows and Dragoncry arrows, lighting bonfires atop the battlements.


    Today, the decisive battle between humanity and the White Walkers would begin. None could stand aside.


    "Roar!" Meleys soared into the air, striking first by unleashing a nket of Dragonfire. The pale dragon��s ice-blue pupils blinked in defiance as it rose to meet the challenge, spitting frost-white dragonfire, cold as absolute zero.


    Zi zi...


    Red and white mes collided violently, casting up a spray of steam. The scarlet dragonfire burned with a heat that could melt steel, carrying the scorching essence of a dragon��s fury. The frost-white dragonfire, colder than a thousand years of ice, held it at bay.


    Boom! Both dragons halted their fires, and the thick fog shrouding the sky exploded. Half of the fog was cold, half was hot, and as it swirled together in the frigid air, it quickly precipitated, sinking like a dense sheet of ice.


    "Roar!" The pale dragon burst out of the fog, shaking its head to dislodge clinging frost. The Night King scanned below, searching for his elusive enemy.


    Just then, the thick fog churned again.


    "Roar!" A piercing roar shattered the sky as scarlet dragonfire red from behind, crackling and snapping. Before the pale dragon could react, it felt the bite on its left wing, sharp fangs digging into its shoulder de.


    "Roar!" it shrieked in panic, pping its wings wildly, and turned to see the scarlet dragon��s vertical pupils ring back.


    The Night King��s icy expression faltered, and he almost stood from his dragon��s back.


    "Attack, Meleys," Rhaenysmanded, undeterred by the violent shaking of her body as her dragon grappled with its foe.


    Crack! A sharp snap echoed as bone broke under the pale dragon��s muzzle. The creature thrashed desperately, swinging its head to snap at the scarlet dragon''s neck, managing only to chip off a copper-colored scale.


    Meleys, the fastest dragon in Westeros, twisted out of reach with a streamlined grace. Its body, honed for swift flight, bore a dense crown of horns along its neck, deflecting both the wind and any would-be attackers.


    "Roar!" The pale dragon spat out the broken scale and began gathering dragonfire deep in its throat.


    Meleys��s vertical pupils locked onto it, and as soon as the creature moved, he instantly abandoned the struggle, dodging with sharp instinct.


    Boom! Frosty white dragonfire burst forth, but the scarlet shadow had already slipped away. The Night King''s ice-blue eyes shed with doubt as he stood up, scanning the skies around him.


    "Roar!" A shrill roar came from the upper right, striking from the Night King''s blind spot.


    "Dracarys, Meleys!" Rhaenys''s silver, gold, and ck hair whipped in the wind, and the corners of her eyes, lined with fine streaks of determination, shed with murderous intent.


    Boom! Meleys dove from above like a streak of red lightning, zing a fiery path downward. The pale dragon, too slow to evade, was struck mid-flight.


    The Night King shielded his eyes as the fiery burst engulfed both himself and his mount. Meleys nced back, slipping nimbly out of the mes and soaring above the ghoul army below.


    Down on the battlefield, waves of undead had begun to swarm the city walls.


    "Don��t waste arrows��use the fire oil!" Corlys ordered, shoving aside sailors who were firing wildly and struggling to roll barrels into position.


    Boom! Boom! Barrel after barrel plummeted from the battlements, bursting into mes as they hit the ground. The fire oil sttered upon impact, spreading a zing barrier at the base of the walls.


    Rhaenys swallowed, her throat parched. "Dracarys, Meleys," shemanded, her voice steady even as exhaustion from the intense battle mounted.


    Thanks to Meleys''s exceptional speed, the smaller, more rigid corpse dragon was bested again and again. Meleys swooped low, spewing dragonfire across the battlefield. In mere seconds, the crimson mes tore through the horde of undead, erecting a wall of fire that held the ghoul army at bay.


    Rhaenys took a few steadying breaths, her face ckened with soot, her skin dry and parched from the heat of the mes. But a sudden chill crawled up her spine, an unsettling sense of dread.


    Turning quickly, her gaze darted to the sky.


    "Roar!" The thick ck smoke dispersed, revealing the pale dragon emerging, battered yet determined. It aimed its dragonfire toward Meleys, who continued to glide with ease above.


    The pale dragon��s scales were charred ck, and its wing membranes were riddled with holes, yet somehow it still flew. Ayer of frost encased its shattered shoulder, its copsed jaw hung lifeless, and its eyes were split open in a grotesque manner.


    Rhaenys''s eyes widened in shock; she had not expected it to still be capable of fighting. Her gaze shifted to the ghostly figure on its back, and a sh of fear passed through her.


    The Night King��s armor was scorched, but he remained unscathed. His ice-blue eyes met hers, and without a word, he raised an ice spear.


    Rhaenys inhaled sharply, her voice rising in rm. "Get out of the way, Meleys!"


    Boom! Frosty dragonfire hurtled down, crashing with lethal precision. Meleys dodged, its movements swift, skirting the edges of the freezing ze.


    Rhaenys exhaled in relief but kept her focus trained on the sky. The sheer resilience of her enemy amazed her; its methods were beyond anything she��d encountered before.


    Whoosh! Frost dragonfire obscured her view, and suddenly an ice spear hurtled toward them, piercing the air at rming speed.


    Rhaenys��s heart pounded, her body freezing in ce as the spear shot forward, heading directly for Meleys��s head.


    Rhaenys shuddered in rm, but it was already toote for her to give orders.


    At this critical moment, the pupils of the man and the dragon vibrated, and an inexplicable connection resonated strongly.


    "Roar!"


    Meleys''s vertical pupils shed with brilliance as its body twisted in a sudden, evasive maneuver to the left.


    Pop!


    Just as it moved, the ice spear grazed its neck and sliced through the scarlet membrane of its wing. Meleys let out a piercing scream; arge hole appeared in its right wing, and its flight path wavered.


    "Steady, Meleys." Rhaenys''s body swayed as she clutched the saddle handle tightly to prevent herself from falling. "There''s still a battle to be won."


    Below, the battlefield was a chaotic mess, with the army of wights wing their way up the Great Wall.


    "Roar!"


    Meleys barely managed to regain its bnce before the pale dragon lunged forward with a roar.


    Crack!


    The pale dragon retaliated, tearing into Meleys''s wounded right wing. Meleys screamed in pain andshed out with its ws, raking the enemy''s chest and spewing hot Dragonfire that spiraled around them, filling the air with thick ck smoke.


    Rhaenys was sweating from the heat, peering through the haze at her terrifying enemy. The Night King stood within the mes, his hand raised to shield his grimacing face. He reached for his spear but hesitated, realizing he had already thrown his only weapon. Helpless, he could only watch as the dragons shed above.


    One red, one white, they grappled midair, spinning like eagles. Frost and me sprayed outward, painting the overcast sky in brilliant colors. Below, those on the ground could not see the fiercebat but heard the echoing dragon roars.


    In the blink of an eye, two hours had passed.


    Boom!


    The battlefield below erupted into chaos as a deafening roar echoed from above. The two dragons, exhausted and bloodied, clung to each other as they spiraled downwards, falling through the clouds.


    From a thousand-meter height, they plunged to a hundred meters, then continued their descent. Finally, they were less than twenty meters from the ground.


    "Roar!"


    Meleys stretched out its neck, wrenching its head to shatter the pale dragon''s weakened jaw. With a loud rumble, the pale dragon reeled backward, letting out a shriek before crashing to the earth. Snow and debris burst across the battlefield, billowing in a cloud of white smoke.


    At that moment, Meleys, dragging its injured leg, rose high into the sky once more. A strange silence nketed the field below, where Watchers and sailors alike burst into shouts of triumph, their fatigue from two hours of relentless defense forgotten.


    The army of wights stopped their assault, staring mutely at the settling smoke.


    "Don��t stop, keep pushing them back!" Corlysmanded, hesitating only a moment before rallying the troops. Their temporary advantage was hard-won by Rhaenys''s tireless battle, and he knew they couldn��t squander a single chance.


    "Get ready, Meleys," thought Rhaenys, her gaze never wavering from the smoke as she and Corlys��s thoughts aligned. The undead army was still intact��a clear sign the Night King was still alive. She knew they couldn��t afford even a second of carelessness.


    One second, two seconds...


    After a few minutes, the smoke slowly began to clear.


    "Roar!"


    The pale dragon, now torn and battered, crawled out of the haze, half its skull shattered, its wings in tatters.


    Thud, thud, thud!


    Heavy footsteps echoed as a pale figure emerged from the settling dust. Rhaenys gripped the saddle rope tightly, her eyes narrowed and her body tense, ready for whatever mighte.


    The Night King walked forward, his ice-blue eyes cold and unfeeling.


    "Meleys..." Rhaenys''s voice was a tense whisper as she started to speak, watching his every move.


    Unexpectedly, the Night King climbed back onto the pale dragon��s back, gripping the saddle rope as he adjusted its course.


    "Roar..."


    Ayer of frost covered the pale dragon''s body as it staggered into the air, then soared northeast, retreating from the battlefield.


    "Roar..."


    Meleys''s fierce pupils tracked the enemy, low growls rumbling from its throat. Though one of its wings drooped and its scales were battered with wounds, the fire in its eyes remained undimmed. Yet, the pale dragon left without a second nce, gradually elerating until it disappeared over the Bay of Seals.


    ''The Night King is escaping into the sea,'' Rhaenys thought, her gaze narrowed in confusion. She couldn��t understand the retreat.


    "We cannot let them escape, Meleys." She took a deep breath, her teeth clenched as she gave themand to pursue. The Night King was extremely dangerous, and with a wight dragon, he had the power to breach the Great Wall. She couldn��t let him slip from her grasp.


    "Roar!"


    Meleys roared and began to p its wings to follow.


    "Stop, Rhaenys!"


    Suddenly, Corlys��s voice rang out, calling to her with urgency. "Don''t chase it! We can��t kill it!"


    Rhaenys paused, her hands gripping the saddle ropes as she looked down at her husband. Corlys stood on the battlements, waving his arms with a mixture of desperation and relief. "Don��t pursue a retreating enemy. Please, listen to me, okay?"


    Rhaenys hesitated, her fingers brushing the dragonss dagger at her waist. She recalled the warnings from Castle ck��the Night King couldn��t be killed easily. Yet, with a dragon and dragonss, she estimated a fifty percent chance of victory.


    "Roar..."


    Meleys let out a low growl, its wings hovering mid-motion, ready to punch a path through the sky. It looked back at Rhaenys, silent and waiting. If she chose to pursue, Meleys would not refuse.


    Rhaenys''s gaze softened, her body sagging as exhaustion finally caught up with her. She looked at Meleys, covered in injuries, and felt a pang of guilt for her belovedpanion of so many years. ''What had been a fifty percent chance is now only thirty,'' she realized. Chasing the Night King could lead them straight into disaster.


    "Old girl, you��re tired too, aren��t you?" Her expression softened as she leaned forward, her cheek brushing against Meleys''s scarlet scales. "Let��s go back. You��re more important to me than he is."


    The Night King already had a wight dragon, and regardless of the threat he posed, they could no longer risk their lives.


    "Roar!"


    Meleys obeyed Rhaenys��smand, turning back towards the Wall andnding gently upon it. As the Night King and his dragon crossed the Bay of Seals, the army of undead ceased their assault and began a slow retreat. The Night''s Watch and the sailors, wary of any further conflict, did not block their way and instead allowed the undead to pass.


    "Rhaenys, are you okay?"


    Corlys pushed through the crowd, his gaze fixed on the scarlet dragon. Rhaenys recognized him and unbuckled her saddle, sliding off Meleys��s back andnding directly in her husband��s arms.


    "I''m so d you''re okay."


    Corlys��s voice was shaky as he looked her over, concern written across his face, before pulling her into a tight embrace. "Thank the Merling King you''re still here with me."


    Throughout the intense dragon battle, his heart had been in his throat. Out of love and hope, he had clung to the belief that she would return to him. But now, with his exhausted wife safe by his side, even the boldness of his nine voyages could not mask his fear.


    "Rx, Corlys."


    Rhaenys leaned into him, her body weary from the exertion of battle. She reached up to stroke his cheek, feeling the roughness of his skin beneath her fingers. "I''m alive, and I��m not that reckless." She managed a faint smile, d she hadn��t acted on impulse and pursued the Night King.


    Both she and Meleys had reached their limits, and now she needed the warmth and reassurance of family to steady herself.


    "You��" Corlys began, but his words faltered. A sudden wave of dizziness overtook him, and he swayed, his tall frame teetering before copsing backward.


    "Corlys!" Rhaenys��s cry echoed as she tried to support her husband��s heavy, unconscious form.


    "Princess, let me see," Alyn stepped from the crowd, carefully taking hold of the unconscious Lord and checking his condition, flipping open his eyelids and studying his face with a frown.


    "How is he?" Rhaenys asked anxiously, her hand tightly gripping Corlys��s.


    Alyn��s brow furrowed. "It doesn��t appear to be an injury," he said with a solemn expression. "It��s more likely fatigue, perhaps triggering an old ailment."


    Rhaenys''s heart sank, her fingers clutching Corlys��s hand. He was already over seventy, older even than her grandfather, the Old King. Though he was usually healthier and stronger than men half his age, the harsh northern climate and the strain of battle had taken their toll.


    "Can he recover?" Rhaenys asked, her voice trembling.


    Alyn shook his head regretfully. "I��m sorry. His body has endured so much. Whether he wakes��" He paused, unable to finish.


    For a man of Corlys��s age, survival ofteny in the hands of the gods.

 Chapter 691: The True Face of Quaithe

    Chapter 691: The True Face of Quaithe


    Shadow Lands, Asshai.


    Dark clouds hung low over the city, casting an oppressive gloom on the low stone houses scattered throughout. A faintly foul odor clung to the air. The streets were filthy and disorderly, lined with homeless beggars kneeling on either side, their hollow eyes fixed on the ground.


    The passersby moved through the streets, cold and indifferent. Each one wore a scarlet mask covering their face, their figures draped in ck robes that hid their identities. To the world, Asshai was as it appeared��forsaken and sinister.


    In a corner of the city, closer to the coastline, there was a bustling pocket of life. Street shops still thrived here, and a few taverns and inns had taken root. Among them stood the Red Grape Inn.


    Its door stood bleak and unweing until a figure cloaked in a red robe entered, her steps quiet, her face concealed beneath the shadow of a ck-haired hood.


    Creak!


    The red priestess moved purposefully up the stairs, heading to the second floor, where she pushed open a door.


    ��What��s happening outside?��


    Varys, his bald head glinting faintly, stood by the door, tattooed hands braced to close it as his watchful eyes scanned the corridor beyond. Here, in the Shadow Lands, caution was second nature.��No one��s ever seen injuries like these,�� she replied, a note of resignation coloring her otherwise charming face. ��They refuse to enter and help.��


    Varys shrugged, unsurprised. ��Figured as much,�� he said, nodding for her to enter.


    The room reeked of must and was crowded with their party. Daeron, his silver hair tied back with a rough hemp rope, prepared a bowl of herbal medicine and ced it on the table, gesturing for his brother to drink.


    ��No need to trouble yourself,�� said Rhaegar, his face pale as he leaned against the side of the bed, utterly undeterred.


    Reaching Asshai had only reaffirmed the prophecy''s uracy. Whatever tricks the Night King had up his sleeve, they hadn��t seeded in killing him.


    The red priestess watched the king, her expression hesitant before she spoke. ��Your Grace, Asshai has an Alchemist��s Guild��a ce where wizards from across the worlde together.��


    ��Is it dangerous?�� Rhaegar asked, understanding her unspoken concern.


    The red priestess nodded. ��Many who delve deeply into the ult are haunted. Their spirits suffer from years spent lurking in the shadows, cut off from daylight.��


    To put it inly, they might encounter madmen.


    Rhaegar��s gaze shifted as he contemted the risks, his thoughts drifting to the idea of a dragon''s fire razing Asshai. Three days of confinement in this inn had left him detesting the ce.


    If Westeros was the winter that had exiled the Targaryens, and Valyria the volcano that had forged them, then the Shadow Lands were sewers infested with rot. Every breath he took felt like a heavy paste coating his throat, clogging his senses.


    The red priestess and Varys waited in silence, respecting the king��s deliberation. Daeron stood nearby, helpless, a stranger to magic and unable to offer guidance.


    A heavy silence filled the room as the sky outside the window darkened, sinking further into night.


    Knock, knock!


    Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.


    "Who is it?"


    Varys removed his hands from his sleeves, cast a nce at the unperturbed king, and slowly moved toward the door.


    Rhaegar, expressionless, pushed himself up from the balcony railing. Asshai was filled with danger; no one would knock on the door without a reason. The interruption served as a reminder of his need for vignce.


    There was no answer from the other side, so Varys pulled a short dagger from his robes, advancing cautiously before swiftly opening the door.


    A woman, scantily dressed and wearing a golden mask, stood on the threshold.


    Rhaegar��s eyes flickered with recognition. "Quaithe!"


    The Golden Mask Witch of the Great Meereen Arena.


    "I''m d you remember me, Your Grace." Quaithe''s gaze was intense, and she inclined her head, her demeanor far more respectful than during theirst meeting.


    "You��re here�� but don��t tell me it��s to help?" Rhaegar ventured, recalling theirst encounter. He gestured for Daeron to stay back and, dragging his half-stiffened body, slowly approached her.


    "I havee to aid the Prince That Was Promised."


    A slight smile yed across the golden mask of Quaithe, giving her the air of a nobledy. "With winter and darknessing, we need a me."


    Rhaegar stared at her for a long moment, then fastened his sword to his waist. He believed her; he felt she was telling the truth.


    "Your Grace!" The red priestess raised her hand, stepping forward, suspicion in in her eyes as she scrutinized the golden witch who had appeared so unexpectedly.


    "It��s fine," Rhaegar assured her. "She, too, hails from Westeros."


    He tugged at the corner of his mouth, attempting a smile, though his expression barely shifted. Instead, he chose to be direct. "Isn��t that right, Lady Elissa Farman of Fair Isle?"


    "What?" Daeron interjected, his eyes narrowing.


    Elissa Farman��a name known well within House Targaryen��s history. She had been thepanion and close friend of Rhaena Targaryen, the ��Queen Mother,�� only to betray her at a critical time.


    She had stolen three dragon eggs birthed by Dreamfyre and sold them to finance a shiprge enough to explore beyond the known world. Because of her actions, Daeron''s great-great-grandfather, Jaehaerys, had nearly waged war against the Sealord of Braavos in pursuit of those eggs.


    Bearing this family grudge, Daeron��s gaze hardened as he regarded the Golden Witch. By now, the traitor should have been long dead. Yet, the mysterious woman before him had skin as fair and smooth as a Maiden''s.


    "Calm yourself, Daeron," Rhaegarmanded, his voice steady as he halted hispanion. He studied the witch, as if attempting to read her mind.


    He spoke with confidence for a reason. Her prophecy had hinted at a purpose behind her arrival, a purpose aligned with aiding him now. Her familiarity with House Targaryen��s legacy could only have been cultivated through years of close proximity.


    Andbined with her faintly concealed Westends ent, there were only a few usible answers.


    Quaithe bowed her head in silence for a moment, then whispered, ��Your Grace, it seems my disguise has been uncovered.��


    She had confessed her identity.


    Rhaegar��s thoughts raced, though he forced himself to remain calm. ��So, you truly have traveled the world and found a way to prolong life?��


    No one could remain ageless without magic.


    ��You need not guess��I am not granted the lifespan of an immortal,�� Quaithe murmured as she slowly removed the golden mask from her face. Beneath it, her once fair skin visibly aged, transforming her into a hunched, crone-like figure with a hoarse, rasping voice. ��But I am a prisoner, lingering on in vain.��


    As she spoke, her body shriveled quickly, as though deting with each breath. Rhaegar couldn��t hide his surprise.


    Recing the golden mask, Quaithe gradually returned to her youthful appearance and bowed again. ��Your Grace, I know of a treasure left behind by the Dragonlords that can aid you in your trials.��


    ��Lead the way,�� Rhaegar replied crisply.


    His perception of Quaithe was shifting. Whatever resentments remained over the stolen dragon eggs had softened, especially after he��d recovered Iragaxys and Thunderstrider.


    As they stepped outside, Quaithe rested her hands on her stomach and spoke, ��Rhaena was my dearest friend after the fall, and I never wanted things to end as they did.��


    Rhaegar kept walking, uninterested in his elders�� old grievances.


    Quaithe looked up, her gaze softening. ��The dragons that perished did not rot in the earth but were reborn in fire. I have recovered thest dragon egg for you.��


    ��Aemon?�� Rhaegar��s face flushed with a trace of color as he thought instantly of his second son, who had been lost at Shipbreaker Bay. That child had fulfilled the prophecy.


    ��The young dragon has emerged from its shell and has already grown,�� Quaithe said, bowing as she passed the king. She didn��t spell it out, but her words left little to doubt.


    ...


    Under the shadow.


    The barren mountains surrounding Asshai loomed darkly.


    ��Roar����


    A deep, muffled roar parted the rolling dark clouds as a great ck wing sliced through the sky. The dragonnded with a powerful thud, exerting its massive weight on the summit.


    With a rumble and a roar, rocks tumbled down the mountainside, and red-hotva oozed through newly formed cracks, creating a smoking cavern.


    The Cannibal��s green eyes glowed faintly as it lowered its snout to catch a familiar scent, twitching slightly as it did. It sensed its rider��s approach; they were bound by a primal understanding.


    The dormant volcano beneath its ws reeked of Firewyrm.

 Chapter 692: A Dominant Return!

    Chapter 692: A Dominant Return!


    The barren mountain range stretched endlessly, its jagged peaks silhouetted against the dim sky. The caves carved into the mountainsides exuded an ominous stillness.


    ��Are you certain the solution lies here?�� Daeron''s voice echoed faintly as he nced around, his toneced with doubt.


    The red priestess surveyed their surroundings, her crimson robes flowing lightly in the heated breeze. ��I can only sense danger,�� she replied solemnly, her gaze hardening.


    The natural cave ahead yawned open, its darkness imprable to the naked eye. A thick, scorching scent emanated from its depths, unmistakable evidence of volcanic activity beneath their feet.


    Quaithe stepped forward, her voice as detached as ever. ��Opportunity and danger are inseparable,�� she stated, her golden veil glinting faintly in the dull light.


    Rhaegar, leaning heavily on Daeron''s shoulder, interrupted the exchange with a soft but firmmand. ��Save your strength for the journey. Focus on the task ahead.��


    Quaithe turned her head slightly, her veiled eyes regarding him. She nodded in silence.


    The young king''s condition was grave. His body fought against the cold poison coursing through his veins, with his fiery blood serving as his only defense. Yet, he grew weaker with each passing moment.


    The group pressed onward, a tense silence enveloping them as they navigated the treacherous path. Suddenly, a low chant echoed from the cave''s depths, the haunting sound reverberating through the darkness.Rhaegar''s weakened frame stirred, his senses as sharp as ever despite his state. ��Something��s wrong,�� he murmured, his voice faint.


    Quaithe raised a hand, her expression darkening. ��It��s the Fallen Warlocks of Asshai,�� she said gravely. ��This volcano provides the minerals they covet. They often conduct sacrifices to the evil gods here.��


    In Asshai, a ce steeped in shadow and arcane knowledge, sorcerers of every kind abounded. But where light flourished, darkness thrived, and many sumbed to its allure.


    ��Can we avoid them?�� the red priestess asked, her voice carrying a hint of hope.


    Quaithe��s veiled head tilted slightly. ��No. The treasure lies deep within the volcano. They won��t let us take it without a fight.��


    ��But...�� The priestess hesitated, torn between reluctance and necessity.


    Rhaegar''s sharp gaze swept over the group. Despite his frailty, his voice carried a chilling authority. ��Approach quietly. Kill them all.��


    The others exchanged uneasy nces. The king''s ruthlessness remained unchanged, even in his weakened state. Yet, his suggestion left little room for debate.


    ��Be careful, brother,�� Daeron said softly, his arm steadying Rhaegar as they prepared for the inevitable sh.


    Rhaegar��s lips curled into a faint smile, his breath shallow. ��Take care of yourself. Or you��ll have to answer to Rhaena.��


    With a sudden burst of heat, the red priestess conjured a me, igniting a torch and hurling it into the cave. Its flickering light revealed a chilling sight: a dozen ck-robed figures standing in a circle. At the center, a blood-drenched altar bore the mutted remains of theirtest victims. Fresh blood flowed freely, pooling at the warlocks�� feet.


    ��Who dares disrupt the Lord of Light��s sacrifice?�� one of the warlocks shouted, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and fear.


    Their reaction was swift. Daggers gleamed in the torchlight as they surged forward, their murderous intent palpable.


    ��Strike!�� Quaithemanded, her golden de shing as she lunged toward the enemy. Her movements were precise and deadly, each strike cutting down a warlock with unerring uracy.


    The red priestess, less adept inbat, wielded her torch defensively, the mes keeping her attackers at bay.


    Daeron turned to check on his brother, but Rhaegar was already gone.


    Amid the chaos, Rhaegar��s figure zed like a dark me. His family sword, ckfyre, arced through the air, cutting down enemies with terrifying ease. ck fire danced along his de, consuming the darkness around him.


    Pop! Pop!


    In mere moments, most of the warlocksy dead, their blood seeping into the volcanic stone.


    One of the surviving warlocks shrieked in desperation, ��He is a heretic of the Lord of Light! Sacrifice him to the mes!��


    Rhaegar��s dual-colored eyes��one wreathed in frost, the other burning with ck fire��met the warlock��s gaze. His voice was as cold as death itself. ��I don��t believe in gods.��


    Dragging his nearly paralyzed body forward, he swung ckfyre with deadly precision, severing the warlock��s head in a single stroke.


    The battle left the group weary but victorious. An hourter, Rhaegar��s strength gave out. He copsed into Daeron��s arms, his pallor stark against the dim cave light.


    ��We need to move quickly,�� Quaithe urged, her de gleaming with freshly shed blood. ��Others wille.��


    She led the way deeper into the cavern, where the air grew hotter with every step. The red priestess followed, her robes scorched and disheveled. Together, they navigated the narrow passage, the bodies of fallen warlocks marking their path.


    Finally, they reached the base of the volcano.


    A rumbling echoed through the chamber, and the red glow of moltenva cast eerie shadows on the walls. Thick steam rose from the bubbling magma, the suffocating heat enveloping the group as they stood at the threshold of their goal.


    ��Cough, cough...�� Harsh, acrid smoke filled the air, forcing everyone but Quaithe and Rhaegar to stagger back, choking on the stifling fumes. Even Daeron struggled to catch his breath, his body heaving as he inhaled the oppressive haze.


    ��You all need to leave,�� Rhaegar ordered, his voice weak but unyielding. He pushed Daeron��s supporting hands away, steadying himself as he took a faltering step toward the crater.


    ��Brother, you can��t���� Daeron began, but Rhaegar cut him off with a sharp nce, his determination silencing further protest.


    Ahead, the cavern opened to reveal a circr altar surrounded by a seething ring of magma. The heat shimmered in waves, distorting the air and making it nearly impossible to focus. On the altar rested a set of ck armor, gleaming ominously amidst the fiery glow.


    ��That��s it?�� Rhaegar��s voice sharpened, his eyes narrowing as he recognized the armor from his dreams.


    The armor was like no other��Valyrian steel, impossibly thin yet exuding an air of unbreakable strength. Its surface was as dark as the void, with intricate runes carved into the metal. Crimson borders traced its edges, and noble rubies sparkled like captured embers. It was a masterpiece of both craftsmanship and sorcery, a relic that seemed to transcend the mortal world.


    Quaithe stood beside him, her expression somber beneath the golden veil. ��Everything bears a sign,�� she intoned, her voice carrying an almost prophetic weight. ��You are destined to have it.��


    Rhaegar scanned the crater, his gaze tracing the ten-meter expanse of molten rock separating the altar from solid ground. The magma churned restlessly, a searing barrier teeming with danger. And beneath the surface, he could sense them��Firewyrms. The ancient creatures slumbered within the molten depths, their presence a looming threat.


    ��How do we reach it?�� he asked, his tone calm butced with urgency.


    ��Sacrifice,�� Quaithe replied without hesitation, her voice cutting through the sweltering air like a de.


    Rhaegar froze, startled. ��Sacrifice? What does that mean?��


    Quaithe��s tone grew graver as she borated. ��The Fallen Warlocks worship the Lord of Light. They pacify the Firewyrms with sacrifices, feeding them blood to lull them into a dormant state. Only then can the altar be approached safely.��


    Rhaegar was silent, his mind racing as he considered the implications. Atst, he turned to leave. ��I��ll tell Daeron and the others to bring the bodies of the warlocks.��


    ��No,�� Quaithe said sharply, her fatigue evident even through her usual poise. ��Those bodies are tainted by dark magic. They will only provoke the Firewyrms further.��


    Rhaegar paused, his gaze shifting to Quaithe. He studied her closely, his eyes searching for answers beneath the inscrutable veil. Her words hung heavy in the air, their meaning sinking in.


    Quaithe smiled faintly, a weary but resolute expression crossing her face. ��The Lord of Light has chosen me,�� she said softly. ��This treasure is meant for you, Your Grace. I will retrieve it.��


    Rhaegar opened his mouth, but no words came. He didn��t understand��couldn��tprehend the depths of her devotion or the cost of her choice. Was this the price of her borrowed life? The mask that granted her ageless beauty and boundless wisdom now demanded its toll.


    ��The golden mask binds freedom,�� he thought, his chest tightening. ��And gives only what it must take away.��


    Quaithe seemed to sense his turmoil. She reached up, unfastening her golden mask with steady hands. For the first time, Rhaegar saw her face��delicate, serene, and undeniably beautiful. But as the moments passed, her features began to wither, the years she had defied catching up in a cruel, unrelenting tide. Her voice, once rich and measured, grew hoarse and brittle.


    ��Your Grace,�� she rasped, her lips trembling as she spoke. ��Tell Rhaena that I found the other half of the Western Continent... and that I regret I couldn��t tell her myself.��


    She turned to the altar, her pale lips moving in a whispered chant. The words of the sacrifice spell echoed faintly, barely audible over the roiling magma.


    Before Rhaegar could stop her, Quaithe stepped forward. Her frail body leaned back, her movements deliberate and resolute.


    <em>Plop!</em>


    The sound was sickeningly soft, like a branch snapping and falling into a still pond. A small plume of grey smoke rose where she vanished, and the magma hissed and bubbled as though swallowing her whole.


    Rhaegar stood motionless, his body as heavy as lead. He stared at the spot where Quaithe had disappeared, the silence pressing down on him like a weight. He couldn��t grasp the depths of her sacrifice, couldn��t fully understand why she had chosen this path.


    But he respected it.


    ...


    The next morning, the oppressive gloom of the mountains remained unchanged, as if eternal.


    ��Roar!��


    The cry of a massive ck dragon shattered the silence, its roar reverberating through the rocky peaks. The colossal creature, over 200 meters long, leapt from the mountain''s summit andnded with a ground-shaking crash. Dust and debris billowed into the air, obscuring the scene momentarily.


    As the dust settled, figures emerged from the cave. At the forefront stood a tall man d in armor that seemed almost alive, shrouded in ck mist with crimson-lined edges. The intricate Valyrian steel gleamed faintly in the dim light, exuding both beauty and menace. His long silvery-gold hair cascaded to his waist, glinting like molten light against the dark backdrop.


    ��It��s dawn,�� Rhaegar said softly, gazing up at the faint glow piercing the perpetual haze. He exhaled slowly, his breath steady andposed.


    In the next moment, a dark, otherworldly energy radiated from him. The ckfyre surged, enveloping his form. Horns of ck bone sprouted from his wless forehead, and a thinyer of ck scales covered his cheeks and neck. His once-violet eyes transformed into sharp, vertical pupils glowing with a deep, unsettling hue.


    With this transformation, the icy damage inflicted by the Night King vanishedpletely, reced by a surge of unparalleled power.


    Rhaegar Targaryen


    Talent: Dreamer (Gold)


    Bloodline: Dragonborn (90%)


    Runes: Bronze (Green), Serpent (Blue), Dream Eater (Purple)


    Blood Sorcery: Bat Worm (Blue), Dance of Dragons (Purple)...


    Relics: Fire and Blood, Dreamscape, Protection of the Sea Dragon...


    Special Items: Space Ne, Dragonhorn (Mastered), Valyrian Armor (Mastered)


    Evaluation: ��A true dragon, on par with the gods.��


    Rhaegar��s gaze lingered on the evaluation. His purple pupils, flecked with gold, remained calm and unwavering.


    The Valyrian steel armor had unlocked the ancient potential buried deep within his bloodline, elevating it to 90%. This development pushed the boundaries of the ancient Valyrian Dragonlord bloodline to their absolute peak. In the long history of this world, no Dragonborn had ever reached such a level.


    His eyes paused at the evaluation column, and a faint smirk touched his lips. ��If they are on par with gods, does that not make them gods?�� he murmured to himself.


    He clenched his fist experimentally, feeling the immense strength coursing through his veins. With the transformation, he had glimpsed secrets long hidden within his bloodline��truths encoded in the essence of the Dragonlords. Their power was not a creation of sorcery or maniption but a primal force intrinsic to humanity, as natural as the giants or the Children of the Forest.


    But the knowledge came with a cost. To push the bloodline beyond 90%, to the mythical 100%, meant losing one��s humanity. The ��person�� would cease to exist, reced by something unrecognizable.


    Rhaegar��s focus returned to the present as the red priestess spoke, her voice hesitant. ��Your Grace, what are your orders now?��


    She looked lost, her expression still tinged with sorrow over Quaithe��s sacrifice. Though she, too, believed in the Lord of Light, the loss felt heavy��a reminder of the fragile line between faith and personal cost.


    Rhaegar frowned slightly, his golden-tinged pupils narrowing as he gazed into the distance. With a flicker of will, he activated Dreamscape. Instantly, his consciousness surged outward, tearing through the barriers of space.


    His vision raced across thends, reaching the farthest northern stretches of the world.


    The Shivering Sea spread out below, a vast expanse of dark, frigid waters littered with jagged icebergs. The pr wind howled, carrying the wails of the undead, and the sea itself seemed alive with an eerie stillness.


    Above the icy waters, a pale skeletal dragon soared, its decayed wings struggling against the bitter cold. On its back sat the Night King, his icy blue eyes fixed on the endless expanse of mist ahead.


    Time seemed to stretch as the ghoul dragon glided onward, eventually entering the cold, shifting fog. Then, a sound broke the silence��an ancient, primal howl that shook the very air.


    The Night King��s body tensed. His ice-blue eyes scanned the mist warily, his hand resting on the skeletal dragon''s decayed neck. Even he could feel the immense power within the fog.


    <em>ng!</em>


    The water beneath them surged violently as a towering wave rose, scattering icebergs like leaves in a storm. From the mist emerged a colossal form, its sheer size dwarfing the dead dragon. The creature''s head alone was massive enough to obscure the undead beast entirely.


    The Night King turned his gaze slowly, his frozen features betraying a rare flicker of tension.


    A legendary Ice Dragon emerged fully from the mist, its white scales glistening like carved diamonds. Each scale resembled a razor-sharp ice cone, and its body radiated an intense cold that seemed to freeze the very air. The dragon��s ice-blue pupils, narrowed and piercing, locked onto the Night King.


    The skeletal dragon faltered under the Ice Dragon��s gaze, and the Night King��s wed hand twitched as he began to gesture. The vision blurred and ended abruptly.


    ...


    Rhaegar��s eyes snapped open, his body jolting slightly as the weight of the vision settled over him.


    <em>The Night King has left the North,</em> he thought grimly. <em>He now rides a dead dragon and seeks an Ice Dragon��a creature of unimaginable power.</em>


    The red priestess stepped closer, concern etched across her face. ��Your Grace?�� she asked, her voice trembling.


    ��I��m fine,�� Rhaegar assured her, his tone steady. He reached out, running a hand over the dark scales of the dragon beside him. The creature rumbled softly, its green eyes glinting with an otherworldly intelligence.


    Rhaegar smiled faintly. ��My friend, it seems we��ve found an opponent worthy of our strength.��


    The dragon, known as the Cannibal, growled in response. Its thick neck swayed, and its maw, filled with jagged teeth, dripped foul saliva.


    ��Very good,�� Rhaegar said with a low chuckle. ��We��ll need all the spirit we can muster.��


    With a decisive wave, he issued the order. ��Let��s go. Back to Westeros!��


    ��Yes, Your Grace!�� the red priestess replied, the group rallying behind him as they prepared for the journey ahead.


    The Cannibal let out a deafening roar, the sound echoing across the deste mountains as the dragon took flight.


    ...


    The Rivends, Trident River Basin.


    The vast encampment of the Westends army, 50,000 strong, sprawled across the ins. The golden lion banner of House Lannister fluttered proudly in the wind, a symbol of their might. On either side of the main force, thousands of cavalrymen stood in formation, poised like coiled vipers, their armor glinting in the midday sun.


    Opposite them, the Rivends coalition, a ragtag force of 10,000 men, struggled to hold formation. Without cavalry to counter the Lannister nks, they relied solely on spearmen and archers, their lines thin and vulnerable.


    ��Attack!��


    The Lannistermander��s shout echoed across the field, and the golden-armored soldiers began their advance in disciplined square formations.


    At the head of the army, Lord Jason Lannister, adorned in ostentatious golden armor atop a snow-white horse, surveyed the battlefield with a smug grin. ��The Rivends coalition will do nothing but wail and weep under my army,�� he dered,ughing boisterously.


    Behind him, a heavy carriage carried an enormous iron cage. Inside, a yellow lion��the Lannisters�� pride and symboly trembling, its growls pitiful rather than fierce. Jason turned and frowned at the creature. ��Why isn��t it roaring? Where��s its fighting spirit?�� he muttered.


    The Lannisters had their lion, and the Targaryens their dragons. Jason had scoffed at theparison many times before. After all, who would fear something caged?


    But his thoughts were interrupted.


    ��Roar...��


    A thunderous, otherworldly sound tore through the battlefield. It was no lion��s roar but something far more primal, far more devastating. Jason froze, hisughter dying in his throat.


    Looking up, his eyes widened in terror as dark green scales filled his vision. A vast shadow blotted out the sun, plunging him and his retinue into darkness.


    Before Jason could react, a clear,manding voice rang out from the sky.


    ��Dracarys, Uragax!��


    A green torrent of Dragonfire rained down, engulfing the Lannister encampment. Boom! The explosion scattered Jason��s 2,000 personal guards like leaves in a storm.


    The golden lion banner of House Lannister vanished in the ze, along with the gilded tents and the iron cage. The lion within��once the symbol of Lannister pride��was reduced to ash. The air filled with the acrid stench of scorched flesh and metal.


    High above, Prince Baelon Targaryen sat astride Uragax, his expression as cold and unyielding as the firestorm he unleashed. His dragon-taming whip snapped through the air as he issued his nextmand.


    ��Dracarys!��


    ��Roar!��


    Uragax��s mighty roar was soon echoed by two more as Vhagar and Vermithor descended from the clouds. The two ancient dragons, their immense forms casting long shadows, dove toward the battlefield, their fury unleashed upon the Lannister forces.


    Boom! Boom!


    Under Baelon��s deliberate control, the three dragons obliterated every Lannister position marked by their banners.


    Vhagar, in particr, was merciless. Her cold, calcting eyes betrayed no emotion as she decimated the scattering troops with a ruthlessness honed through centuries of war. Her first rider, Queen Visenya Targaryen, had oncemanded her in the conquest of Westeros, burning fields and armies alike in what became known as ��The Fire that Consumes the Fields.�� Now, the same fate hade for the Lannisters.


    Hours passed, and the battlefield became a charred wastnd. The once-proud banners of House Lannistery in ashes, and their armies had been reduced to scattered remnants. Baelon soared above it all, Uragax gliding effortlessly through the smoky air.


    Thebined Rivends coalition, too small to capture all the retreating Lannister forces, struggled to hold the battlefield. The tide of the battle was turning, but the end had not yete.


    Suddenly, the sound of galloping hooves filled the air.


    ��Knights of the Vale, charge!��


    Across the river, a force of 10,000 cavalry, bearing the crescent moon and eagle banner of House Arryn, stormed onto the battlefield. The Vale knights rode fearlessly through the rushing waters, splitting into two groups to encircle the retreating Lannister forces.


    With their arrival, the fate of the Westends army was sealed. The Rivends coalition surged forward, their morale restored by the sudden reinforcements.


    Above the battlefield, an elegant silver dragon descended gracefully, its polished scales gleaming like molten silver. Its rider, Daenerys Targaryen, surveyed the battlefield from her lofty vantage point. Her silver hair, braided back tightly, glinted in the sunlight, and her petite frame was d in armor of ck and red, bearing the sigils of House Targaryen.


    Baelon looked up, his sharp eyes meeting hers across the smoky sky.


    Daenerys nodded curtly, her expression a mixture of pride and defiance. She had brought the Knights of the Vale to ensure victory. With theirbined might, the remnants of the Lannister forces would not survive.


    As her dragon circled above, Daenerys��s unspoken message was clear:


    As long as a Targaryen breathes, the Iron Throne remains unshaken.


    ...


    The shores of Dragonstone were alive with the sound of crashing waves. The sea spray glistened in the pale morning light as a small boat nudged onto the beach. From within, three dark-robed figures stepped onto the shore��two adults and a child.


    ��Prince, you should call for aid like the heir prince did. Sunspear and Oldtown won��t hold out much longer,�� one of the figures urged. He removed his hood, revealing the solemn face of Erryk Cargyll, a knight of the Kingsguard.


    The second robed figure followed suit, revealing himself to be Arryk Cargyll, Erryk��s twin and fellow Kingsguard. ��Summerhall��s location is critical,�� Arryk added, his tone heavy with concern. ��You don��t need to risk your life.��


    Despite their pleas, the small figure in the ck robe ignored them. Without a word, he sprinted up the path toward the towering Dragonmont, the volcanic mountain that loomed over Dragonstone like a sentinel.


    A gust of sea wind whipped back his hood, revealing his face.


    Viserion Targaryen, silver-haired and pale, pressed onward with a determined expression. Though his frame was thin and his years few, his steps were purposeful. His mind was set.


    The rebellion in Dorne, the unrest in Oldtown��both were fractures threatening the stability of the realm. From Summerhall, Viserion had watched over the Three Southwest Territories, a duty left to him after his mother had journeyed to the Wall. With his sister Daenaera still young and his eldest brother Baelon consumed by the greater rebellion in the Westends, the burden fell squarely on his shoulders.


    ��We can��t lose an inch of House Targaryen��snds,�� Viserion muttered through gritted teeth, his pace quickening. His second brother, Aemon, was already dead, and his third brother, Maekar, was overseas. He would not sit idle while the realm fractured further.


    ��Faster!�� he urged himself, his legs burning as the sulfur-tinged air of Dragonmont grew heavier around him.


    The Dragonkeepers stationed near the mountain��s base noticed him immediately.


    ��Clear the way for His Highness!�� Erryk barked, shoving aside the startled keepers.


    ��Wait!�� one elderly Dragonkeeper cried out in rm. ��You can��t just barge into the dragons��irs! It��s too dangerous!��


    But there was no stopping Viserion. The boy pressed forward, squeezing past the crowd and ascending the treacherous path up Dragonmont.


    Viserion��s thoughts churned as he climbed. His mother had once told him of the unimed dragons on Dragonstone: the regal Silverwing, the fearsome Iragaxys the Bloodwing, and the elusive Grey Ghost.


    ��Balerion, protect me,�� he whispered under his breath. Balerion, the ancient Valyrian god of death, was not someone he wanted to meet just yet. Today, he had one goal: to tame a dragon and prove his worth.


    Suddenly, a dark shadow streaked across the mountainside, apanied by the thunderous sound of wings. A dragon��its blood-red wings glowing in the sunlight��raced overhead, clearly startled by themotion below.


    Viserion��s eyes widened. ��Iragaxys!�� he called out, raising his hands high.


    The enormous dragon swooped down, its scarlet wings slicing through the air beforending in a cloud of dust and smoke. Iragaxys, a dragon renowned for its ferocity and size, was a staggering thirty meters long. Among the keepers, it was whispered to be the reincarnation of Balerion, the ck Dread himself.


    ��Iragaxys, I��m here!�� Viserion dered, coughing as the dust choked him. Reaching to his waist, he pulled free a short sword and a dragon crystal dagger, both gifts from a royal feast.


    ��Roar!��


    Iragaxys��s eyes, slitted and glowing, locked onto the boy. A low growl rumbled from its throat as it spotted the weapons. The dragon��s chest expanded, its mouth opening to reveal a growing orb of ck Dragonfire.


    ��No! No Dragonfire!�� Viserion shouted, his voice trembling. Quickly, he dropped both the sword and the dagger, raising his empty hands high to show his intent.


    Iragaxys paused, its murderous gaze shifting to curiosity. The mes in its throat subsided, and it cocked its massive head, waiting.


    ��Iragaxys,e with me!�� Viserion pleaded, taking slow, deliberate steps toward the beast. His feet, raw and bleeding from the climb, faltered but did not stop.


    The boy��s determination shone through his fear. He moved forward despite the dragon��s imposing stance, despite the sharp pain in his legs, and despite the instinctual terror screaming at him to run.


    ��Roar!��


    Iragaxys spread its wings, adopting an offensive posture, its body taut with tension. It was a clear warning:e closer, and you die.


    Viserion hesitated, swallowing hard. Then, summoning every ounce of courage, he shouted:


    ��Come on! My father��s son is no coward, and I am a Targaryen!��


    His voice rang out like a battle cry, his resolve unwavering. He knew there was no turning back. Either he mounted the dragon today, or he died trying.


    Iragaxys froze, momentarily stunned by the boy��s boldness. Slowly, the dragon tilted its head, its fiery gaze softening. With a deep rumble, it lowered its proud head and extended its broad, scaled back.


    The gesture was clear.


    ��Hahaha!�� Viserionughed, relief flooding through him as strength returned to his weary limbs. He climbed onto Iragaxys��s back, gripping the dragon��s rough scales tightly.


    At the base of Dragonmont, the Cargyll twins stood with tense expressions, barring the Dragonkeepers from ascending.


    ��Roar!��


    A shadow passed over them, blotting out the sunlight. All heads turned upward as Iragaxys soared into the sky, its scarlet wings cutting through the clouds. On its back, the silver-haired boy sat tall and proud, his determination unshaken.


    ��Fly!�� Viserionmanded, his voice clear and strong.


    The ck dragon roared in response, its powerful wings carrying them away from Dragonstone and into the vast sky beyond.

 Chapter 693: The Finale – Battle of the Wall

    Chapter 693: The Finale �C Battle of the Wall


    Half a monthter.


    King''s Landing, Mud Gate.


    ��Roar!��


    Several dragons soared through the sky, their thunderous roars reverberating through the city as they yfully chased each other.


    And on the city wall stood a scarlet dragon. Its body emanated a murderous aura, and its sharp, towering horned crown looked as though it could pierce the very heavens.


    Baelon stood frozen, his lips trembling as he whispered repeatedly, ��Aemon...��


    Opposite him, mounted atop a magnificent red dragon, was a figure all too familiar.


    The face Baelon had longed to see��day and night, without end��was even more vivid than his own reflection in a mirror. The sight brought a flood of emotion, and tears welled up in his eyes.


    ��It��s me,�� Aemon said with a warm smile, his short silver-and-gold hair shimmering like molten light under the sun.��Aemon!��


    Unable to restrain himself any longer, Baelon broke into tears and leaped forward.


    Aemon, unable to suppress his own joy, slid off the dragon and opened his arms wide. They embraced tightly, the force of their hug speaking volumes.


    How long had it been?


    Finally, the brothers were reunited. No words could capture the magnitude of this moment; a single embrace was worth more than a thousand exchanges.


    ��I never thought I��d see you again,�� Aemon said, his voice trembling. He wiped away a tear, hisugh breaking through the overwhelming emotion.


    ��Stupid big brother, crying like a child,�� Baelon said, his voice shaky yet teasing. He pped Aemon hard on the back.


    ��You little brat,�� he chided, his voice thick with emotion. ��If you were alive, why didn��t youe back sooner?��


    ��I��m back now, aren��t I?�� Aemon replied, rubbing his chest dramatically, though his grin didn��t falter.


    Aemon stepped aside, gesturing toward the magnificent red dragon beside him. ��This is Red Dragon Ursarion.��


    Baelon��s eyes lit up with recognition. ��A descendant of Dreamfyre,�� he eximed, astonished. ��Hatched from the same clutch as Iragaxys and Thunderstrider.��


    The news had traveled from The Reach only three days earlier.


    Baelon��s younger brother, Viserion, had joined the battle in Oldtown astride Iragaxys, the Bloodwing. Together, they had reduced Qarth��s ships and those infected with grayscale to ash.


    Reports indicated that Oldtown was rallying a vast army, preparing to march on Dorne through The Prince��s Pass to quell the rebellion.


    The victories and the news of Aemon��s return filled Baelon with joy he could scarcely contain.


    ��We��ve been blessed with good tidings,�� he said, his smile unwavering.


    Aemon patted his chest confidently. ��I��ve already conquered ver��s Bay,�� he dered, his voice brimming with determination. ��More than 100,000 Dothraki cavalry are crossing the sea as we speak.��


    In the face of the Dothraki''s fearsome cavalry, the uprisings across the realm seemed trivial��a mere nuisance to be swept away.


    ��Roar!��


    The sound of a dragon echoed once more. A silver-gray dragon soared over ckwater Bay, streaking toward them with a thunderous cry.


    The brothers turned together, certain it was Maekar arriving.


    ��Roar...��


    Suddenly, the sky darkened. The once serene white clouds were scattered violently, leaving only an oppressive, endless ckness.


    Descending from the sky was The Cannibal.


    Its immense, charcoal-ck wings cast a vast shadow as it enveloped the silver-gray dragon and hurtled toward King��s Landing. The sight was apocalyptic��a harbinger of doom.


    Aemon��s smile vanished. His body trembled as he uttered in a faltering voice, ��Father...��


    ...


    King''s Landing, Dragon Gate.


    A colossal, dark form loomed, absorbing every ray of sunlight and radiating an intense heat that melted the snow around it. What seemed at first like an immovable mountain of coal revealed itself to be a dragon, its presence undeniable the moment you caught sight of its eerie, green eyes.


    Before it, over 100,000 Dothraki cavalry stood in perfect formation, their heads bowed in reverence. The silence among them was absolute, like an unspoken tribute to the beast.


    Rhaegar stood amidst them, his gaze sweeping indifferently over the assembled warriors. These were the forces he had gathered��temporary soldiers conscripted for one purpose: to serve as cannon fodder in the decisive battle against the White Walkers at the Wall.


    ��Father, let me go with you,�� Aemon pleaded, clinging to his father��s legs like a child, his eyes shining with longing.


    In this moment, King Aemon of ver��s Bay, whomanded armies and dragons, seemed no older than the boy he had once been.


    Rhaegar sighed softly, cing a hand on his son��s head. His tone was both tender and firm. ��No, you must stay with Baelon.��


    This was a son he had thought lost forever, now returned to him after enduring unimaginable trials. How could a father feel anything but love and relief at such a reunion? The mere thought of Aemon enduring further suffering filled him with pain.


    ��No! Take me with you,�� Aemon insisted, his determination unyielding.


    He gestured to the Dothraki cavalry. These elite warriors, who had followed him across the sea, were his aplishment. If he was to be separated from the fight, there must be somepensation. Surely his ce was by his father��s side.


    ��Please, Father,�� Baelon added, his earnest eyes reflecting the same determination as his younger brother. ��Let us go north together.��


    It wasn��t just the two brothers. Nearby, Maekar and Daenerys stood silently, their gazes expectant and resolute.


    ��No!�� Rhaegar said sharply, rubbing his temples as the pressure of their pleas mounted.


    He refused to risk the future of their house. The previous generation had already gone to the Wall, and it was unthinkable for the next to follow and potentially meet their demise.


    His sons were aplished men, capable of leading. If the Wall fell and the White Walkers descended, they could still take their dragons and lead the family to safety in Essos.


    ��Father, I want to see my mother,�� Aemon said suddenly, his voice tinged with a sadness that softened the resolve in his father��s eyes. Then, his tone grew firm. ��The Dothraki trust me. They will only march forward if I am with you.��


    As he spoke, Aemon shot a meaningful look at Baelon.


    Baelon hesitated, clearly conflicted, before finally gritting his teeth and saying, ��Father...��


    ��All right, that��s enough,�� Rhaegar interrupted, cutting off Baelon��s plea with a tone of finality. He nced at Aemon and relented. ��You maye��and even ride the Wall��but you must first persuade your mother and sister Ba to stay behind.��


    It was a necessarypromise. The dragons of the three women were insufficient to ensure their safety in battle. Aemon, however, had proven himself capable through trials that had hardened him.


    One son to the fight in exchange for the safety of three was a bargain Rhaegar could ept.


    ��Good!�� Aemon eximed, his joy unrestrained. He let go of his father��s leg, hisposure returning as swiftly as it had left.


    The transformation was instant. King Aemon of ver��s Bay was back inmand, mounting the red dragon Ursarion with the authority of a leader. At his back were over 100,000 Dothraki cavalry, ready to follow him into the fray.


    ��You all, take care of yourselves,�� Rhaegar said, his voice tinged with a quiet warmth as he ced a hand on each of his children. Then, without looking back, he turned and climbed onto the Cannibal��s massive back.


    ��Roar...��


    The Cannibal��s earth-shaking cry echoed through the frosty air as it unfurled its great wings, scattering the falling snow.


    The children watched as the enormous dragon took to the sky, its form disappearing into the distance.


    Below, the thunderous roar of over 100,000 Dothraki cavalry erupted, filling the cold wind with their war cries. The ground trembled as they surged forward, heading north under the shadow of the dragon that led them.


    ...


    The Wall, Castle ck.


    ��Your Grace, the Prince has sent a message,�� said Cregan, his massive sword, <em>Ice</em>, strapped across his back as he approached the king.


    Rhaegar stood on the watchtower, his gaze fixed on the deste expanse beyond the Wall. He had returned five days ago, bringing with him not only much-needed supplies but also an army of over 100,000 Dothraki cavalry.


    The Wall, once vulnerable, was now fortified and ready for war.


    ��Take me to him,�� Rhaegar said, his violet eyes regaining their focus. He turned from the icy vista and began descending the watchtower steps.


    ��After you,�� Cregan said, his tone respectful as he led the way.


    Soon, they reached a bonfire burning on the battlements.


    ��Father!��


    Aemon��s face lit up as he rubbed his hands together near the mes for warmth. He stepped forward eagerly, saying, ��My mother sent me to check on you.��


    Rhaegar nced at him with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. ��Your mother will only be scolding me now,�� he replied dryly.


    ��Heh heh...�� Aemon chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.


    The family had barely spent two days together at the Wall before Rhaegar had ordered their mother, Rhaenyra, and sister, Ba, to withdraw from the North. Yet, as Aemon well knew, his father��s attempt to send them away had ultimately failed.


    ��I��ll head back to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea,�� Aemon said casually, patting his hip as he prepared to leave. ��Nothing much happening here at Castle ck.��


    ��Get lost,�� Rhaegar said, waving him away dismissively.


    Unbothered by his father��s curt words, Aemon mounted his fiery red dragon, Ursarion, and took to the skies.


    The moment he disappeared into the horizon, Rhaegar��s smile faded, reced by a grim expression.


    The situation was dire. Rhaenyra, Ba, and their aunt Rhaenys had refused to leave the North and were now stationed at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.


    Worse, the news was bleak. Laenor and Seasmoke had been attacked, and Eastwatch itself hade under assault by the White Walkers. To Rhaegar��s horror, Seasmoke had fallen��and had been turned into a corpse dragon.


    Every fortress along the Wall, all 18 of them, was now sealed. Ice and water fortifications fused seamlessly with the Wall, leaving only two vulnerable points for the army of White Walkers to exploit: Castle ck and Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.


    Rhaegar had stationed himself at Castle ck, bolstered by the aid of Daemon and Aemond. Eastwatch, meanwhile, was reinforced with arger contingent of soldiers and seven dragons: Meleys, Dreamfyre, Sunfyre, Ursarion, Syrax, Moondancer, and Morning.


    While Moondancer and Morning were weaker inbat, the fortress was primarily defended by the might of Aunt Rhaenys, Aegon, and Hena, supported by Rhaenyra and Aemon.


    The bnce of power between the two fortresses was near equal, ensuring that the Night King would find no easy path forward.


    Rhaegar took a deep, steadying breath. ��Night King,�� he murmured to himself. ��It��s about time you arrived.��


    The air carried an ominous weight, and every fiber of his being told him the battle would begin at any moment.


    The Haunted Forest.


    The trees had been felled, leaving the snowy fields littered with stakes and barren stumps.


    RUMBLE!


    A vast, ck tide surged forward��a relentless army of wights that seemed to stretch into eternity, their advance apanied by a bone-chilling wind.


    ��Roar!��


    A ghastly dragon of death emerged first, its tattered wings pping with eerie grace. The dragon��s skeletal head was missing its lower jaw, yet its throat glowed with the icy blue fire of undeath.


    A White Walker rode atop the dragon, brandishing an ice-crystal spear. Though silent, the menace of its presence was deafening.


    The corpse dragon advanced swiftly, leading the undead horde toward the Wall.


    ��Roar!��


    From within the Wall itself came a sharp, defiant hiss. A massive, scarlet dragon slithered down from its icy perch, its serpentine form coiling as it leaped into action.


    Daemon, d in ck steel armor, sat astride Caraxes. His face was cold and resolute as he growled, ��Scum. Let me meet you.��


    BOOM!


    Caraxes��s narrow eyes burned with fury. With a thunderous roar, it unleashed a torrent of scarlet Dragonfire, charging headlong at the undead dragon.


    The wight dragon responded in kind, spewing an icy blue inferno from its throat.


    BOOM!


    Red fire collided with blue, sending sparks and shards of ice cascading through the air in a breathtaking disy of destruction.


    WHOOSH!


    An ice spear shot out of the shadows, hurtling toward Daemon and Caraxes.


    Daemon��s eyes narrowed, and he yanked hard on the reins, forcing Caraxes to veer sharply.


    CRACK!


    The spear grazed Caraxes, piercing its scarlet scales and leaving a gaping wound on its chest. The dragon let out a pained roar, its serpentine body twisting in agony.


    ��Got you,�� Rhaegar muttered from the Wall, his keen eyes locking onto the source of the attack.


    In the distance, the shadow of a massive creature emerged from the ruined forest.


    The Night King��s mount��a gleaming white Ice Dragon��stepped into view, its immense body carved from shimmering ice.


    ��So big,�� Rhaegar muttered, his expression tightening. He had underestimated his foe.


    The Ice Dragon, towering like a mountain, crushed the surrounding pine trees with each step, their trunks reduced to splinters. Measuring 300 meters in length, the dragon radiated a bone-chilling cold with every breath.


    The very sight of it sent a shiver through the hearts of even the bravest warriors.


    ��Roar...��


    The Cannibal descended from the sky,nding atop the Wall with a thunderous crash. Its green eyes glowed with feral cruelty as it roared, asserting its dominance.


    Rhaegar climbed onto the Cannibal��s back, his eyes fixed on the Night King in the distance.


    ��Be careful, my friend,�� he murmured to his dragon.


    ckfyre, his ancestral sword, shimmered in his hand, and his armor seemed to radiate a faint, smoky aura.


    The Night King, seated atop his Ice Dragon, raised his spear high, his ice-blue eyes devoid of emotion.


    ��Roar...��


    The Ice Dragon howled, its wings of translucent blue bone slicing through the frigid air as itunched its attack.


    ��Roar...��


    The Cannibal roared in defiance, its maw opening wide, ready to rip its foe apart.


    As the two dragons shed in the skies, the battle on the ground began in earnest.


    The army of wights surged toward the Wall like a ck wave, wing and climbing with mindless fury.


    The Night��s Watch and the Kingdom��s soldiers held firm, raining fire oil and rolling logs onto the undead masses. Explosions from the Children of the Forest��s firebombs lit up the battlefield, turning scores of wights to ash.


    ��I��ll handle this!��


    Nunu, the giant, let out a deafening roar as he hefted a massive grinding wheel and hurled it down, ttening a swath of the undead.


    From atop the Wall, and within its icy fortresses, every tribe and every ally fought fiercely, determined to hold the line. The Great Battle of the Wall had begun.


    Ten thousand miles high in the sky, two titanic beasts were locked in a vicious struggle, hurling torrents of Dragonfire at each other. One was ck as night, the other white as freshly fallen snow. They spiraled and twisted through the air, their movements painting a living yin and yang in the heavens.


    ��Cannibal, rip off its wings!�� Rhaegar''s voice echoed, his body trembling as he scrutinized the Night King''s every move.


    The Night King, perched atop his icy mount, was faring no better. The Ice Dragons, unlike mindless wights, were ancient beings with intelligence and wills of their own. They had little regard for the cold deity riding them, their thoughts solely on the enemy before them.


    Repeatedly, the Night King raised his ice spear, only to have his aim spoiled by the violent jolts of the battle.


    A cruel glint shed in the Cannibal��s emerald eyes. With a guttural roar, it made a calcted sacrifice, exposing its abdomen to the Ice Dragon��s sharp ws. As the talons tore through its flesh, the Cannibal lunged forward, its massive jaws mping down and ripping a portion of the Ice Dragon��s wing clean off.


    The Ice Dragon��s roar of agony reverberated through the sky. Its immense body thrashed, smashing into the Cannibal and sending the ck dragon hurtling back. At the same time, its ws raked across the Cannibal��s belly, leaving a gruesome wound.


    Both dragons reeled from their injuries. The Cannibal��s belly was torn open, its searing entrails partially exposed. The Ice Dragon, crippled by its mangled wing, showed deep cracks forming along its icy frame. Unable to maintain flight, it began an uncontroble descent.


    ��Cannibal, are you okay?�� Rhaegar��s voice was tight with concern as he leaned forward, studying his dragon intently.


    The Cannibal shook its massive head, beating its wings to steady its flight. Despite the grievous wound, it managed to descend gradually. Rider and dragon shared an unspoken understanding��it was not fatally injured.


    The Cannibal, shrewd as ever, had deliberately risked its life, knowing that crippling the Ice Dragon��s ability to fly was the key to victory.


    ��Let��s go after it!�� Rhaegarmanded, unsheathing ckfyre, the ancestral Valyrian steel sword of his house. His eyes scanned the skies warily for any ambush, but none came.


    Below, a thunderous crash announced the Ice Dragon��snding. Its massive form collided with the frozen ground near the Great Wall, crushing swathes of dead in its wake. The beast twisted at thest moment, absorbing the impact with a somersault that reduced the force of its fall.


    The Night King, undeterred, slid from the Ice Dragon��s back. His emotionless gaze shifted from the dark form of the Cannibal to the towering wall before him.


    ��Roar...�� The Ice Dragon, unaffected by sentiment, unleashed a torrent of azure Dragonfire. The searing me shattered the frozen iron gate of the Great Wall, carving a gaping hole through the centuries-old barrier. Wights swarmed into the breach in an unnervingly disciplined march.


    From above, Rhaegar��s purple eyes narrowed in realization. ��I underestimated you,�� he murmured, understanding atst that the Night King��s objective had never been a mere skirmish. The true goal was to breach the Great Wall and unleash the horde upon thends beyond.


    ��Roar!�� The Sheepstealer, lean and sinewy, burst from the city walls, diving to block the gap. Its mes roared over the advancing ghouls, creating a scorched no-man��snd that stemmed their tide.


    Rhaegar straightened, his voice firm. ��Land, Cannibal!��


    The Cannibal hesitated briefly, its glowing eyes locking with Rhaegar��s. A reassuring pat on its scaled back apanied augh. ��We have our own opponents.��


    Rhaegar dismounted as the Cannibal descended,nding heavily. The dragon pressed its shoulder to the ground to ease his rider��s descent.


    ��Don��t disgrace me,�� Rhaegar whispered, resting his forehead against the beast��s scarred snout. Then, with deliberate steps, he strode into the writhing mass of dead.


    ��Ghostly thing, stop right there!�� he bellowed, slicing through a nearby wight with a backhand swing of ckfyre.


    The Night King turned, his lifeless face betraying a hint of surprise. He seemed not to have anticipated Rhaegar��s bold charge. With an imperious gesture, he summoned a flood of dead to meet the swordsman.


    The transformed White Walkers, once themanders of this undead army, had been nearly wiped out. Only one remained, tasked with controlling the Wight Dragon. For now, the Night King had to rely on the mindless masses to buy time.


    ��Ooh~~��


    A sudden cheer broke the tension as the Sheepstealer, who had been blocking the gap in the Wall, shifted aside. From behind, a flood of Dothraki cavalry poured forth, their war cries echoing across the battlefield. Each rider bore a curved de coated in fire oil, the mes dancing like serpents in the cold air. Together, they formed an unbroken line of fiery destruction, cutting through the dead ranks with unstoppable force.


    Rhaegar''s lips curled into a grin. The reinforcements lightened the weight of battle, though the duel ahead loomedrge. As the Dothraki carved a path through the enemy, a clear space opened amidst the snowy, blood-soaked battlefield��a stage set for two kings to sh.


    The Night King stood stoic, his icy face unreadable, clutching his ice-crystal spear. With a burst of speed, he charged forward.


    ng!


    The ckfyre and the ice-crystal spear met in a sh of titanic strength, sending shards of ice scattering like ss. The force drove Rhaegar back several paces, but his movements were controlled, using the momentum to absorb the raw power behind the White Walker''s strike.


    Unrelenting, the Night King pressed forward, his spear movements precise and practiced, echoing the mastery of countless spear-wielding warriors.


    ��Heh,�� Rhaegar chuckled darkly, his grin twisting into something almost menacing. ��This time, you only have one life.��


    With his left hand, he drew his second Valyrian steel sword, Nightfall, its edge gleaming ominously in the dim light. This was no dream, and he was no mortal to be felled by a single death. Adorned in Valyrian steel armor, armed with twin legendary des, Rhaegar radiated an aura that rivaled the gods.


    With a sudden surge of strength, he attacked.


    ng! ng!


    The twin swords became a blur of lethal arcs, hammering the ice-crystal spear relentlessly. Sparks of ice and steel danced in the air as Rhaegar''s strikes forced the Night King to retreat. The undead lord''s unblinking ice-blue eyes focused on the barrage, but even he could not keep pace with the dazzling speed of the assault.


    In moments, the Night King''s frost-armored chest was exposed,rge sections of his torso sliced open. Though the White Walker��s bodycked the weaknesses of flesh and blood, the cumtive damage was undeniable.


    ng!


    A final strike shattered the spear in the Night King''s hand. The weapon flew from his grasp as the Night King staggered, his movements slower, his defenses unraveling.


    His head tilted up, then down, in a nearical gesture of disbelief as he processed the relentless onught. Then, in desperation, his mouth opened wide in a silent, chilling roar.


    ��Roar...��


    The Ice Dragon responded immediately, its guttural cry shaking the earth as it trampled through hordes of wights, surging toward the battle.


    Rumble!


    The Cannibal intercepted the icy beast with a thunderous leap, its coal-ck form mming down on its foe. Its massive jaws mped onto the Ice Dragon��s throat, crushing the ice-spiked surface.


    The Ice Dragon thrashed wildly, azure Dragonfire spewing from its maw in violent bursts. Its wings beat against the Cannibal, each p sending waves of frost through the battlefield.


    Puff! Puff!


    Ice spikes erupted from the Ice Dragon��s body, piercing the Cannibal��s obsidian scales, but the ck dragon��s emerald eyes gleamed with feral excitement. With grim determination, it drove its fangs deeper, piercing the cold, brittle armor of the Ice Dragon and draining its freezing blue blood.


    The two dragons writhed like serpents, their battle a symphony of destruction.


    Meanwhile, Rhaegar pressed his advantage. ��Ghostly thing, you shouldn��t have woken up,�� he growled, his voice icy with conviction.


    The Night King swung a pale fist in defiance, but as it met the edge of ckfyre, the skin disintegrated into powder. Rhaegar��s strikes did not falter.


    With Nightfall, he plunged into the Night King��s abdomen. With ckfyre, he swung horizontally, severing the head from its shoulders in one fluid motion.


    Plop!


    The Night King''s pale body copsed, breaking apart into icy shards. Yet, his head remained intact, rolling across the battlefield tond in the snow. Its ice-blue eyes stared upward, unseeing but still unnervingly alive. The mouth moved weakly, attempting to form words.


    ��Not dead yet?�� Rhaegar muttered, his brows furrowing in disbelief.


    Stepping forward, his every movement charged with purpose, he raised ckfyre. The ancestral de gleamed as he plunged it into the center of the Night King��s skull.


    The mouth froze mid-word. Then, like a balloon punctured, the head burst apart into a wisp of cold, blue wind.


    Rhaegar sighed, his body finally rxing. But the cold blue wind changed direction, swirling ominously before piercing through his back and into his heart.


    The Valyrian steel armor pulsed with a dark aura, struggling to resist the attack. Yet the spectral wind was relentless, slipping through the cracks as if mocking the protection.


    Plop!


    Rhaegar��s body stiffened as the wind shattered his heart. He copsed, his knees striking the ground.


    At the same moment, it was as if a switch had been flipped. The army of wights inside and outside the Wall crumbled simultaneously, their bodies copsing to the ground and shattering into lifeless fragments. The Night King was dead, and with his demise, the undead army followed suit.


    But...


    Rhaegar clutched his chest as a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. He let out a bitterugh.


    ��This is the gods for you... so damn tricky.��


    Valyrian steel armor could repel infinite Magic, but it couldn��t block the natural wind. The cold wind was part of nature itself, and when it brushed against his body, it chilled him to the bone.


    At least it didn��t kill a <em>demigod</em>.


    Gritting his teeth, Rhaegar forced himself to his feet, though he staggered unsteadily. His body was extraordinary, envied even by the gods, but his heart��though mighty��was just a vessel. It could be damaged.


    He couldn��t help butment the cost. Five hundred years of life expectancy reduced to a mere hundred.


    A deafening roar ripped through the air, shattering his thoughts.


    Outside the battlefield, blue blood sttered onto the frozen ground. The pale Ice Dragon copsed, its massive chest heaving as ity covered in wounds of varying sizes.


    Cannibal looked like a demon straight out of purgatory. Its monstrous maw emitted an eerie glow as it mped down savagely on the Ice Dragon��s thick, serpentine neck. With a ferocious pull, a loud <em>crack</em> echoed as the ice split.


    The Cannibal shook its head violently, ripping away the lower half of the Ice Dragon��s head along with its scales. The creature tore the frozen beast asunder, splitting it into two grotesque halves.


    At that precise moment, a scarlet dragon plummeted from the sky, followed closely by the mangled corpse of a wight dragon.


    Daemon stood atop the pale dragon��s back, his face twisted into a hideous snarl. In his hands, the Dark Sister sword gleamed, buried deep between the hard scales of the wight dragon. Judging by the distance from the scales to the hilt, the de had pierced where a White Walker��s head should have been.


    ��Roar!��


    Caraxes, the scarlet dragon, let out a piercing cry. Twisting like a serpent in midair, it turned a backward somersault into a forward dive. Its crimson wings snapped taut as it raced past the wight dragon��s falling remains.


    Just as the corpse dragon��s wreckage neared the ground, Caraxes lunged. Its sharp jaws mped down, rending the remnants apart.


    <em>Boom!</em>


    The wreckage struck the earth, sending snow flying. Caraxes skidded along the icy surface, its slender belly scraping the snow. The dragon tumbled, rolled, and finally came to a halt, copsing in exhaustion.


    ��Daemon!��


    Rhaegar��s eyes widened in rm, and more blood spewed from his mouth as he saw the scene unfold.


    Caraxesy motionless on its side, its long neck limp. White smoke billowed from its battered form. Its jaws opened weakly, and a lone figure tumbled from its mouth to the ground.


    Rhaegar let out a ragged sigh of relief.


    ��Rhaegar, are you all right!?��


    Aemond, visibly anxious, brought Sheepstealer to an abrupt stop before leaping down. He sprinted toward Rhaegar��s broad, unsteady frame.


    The sheer effort had drained Rhaegar, and he slumped backward at the sound of his brother��s voice.


    ��Rhaegar!��


    Aemond lunged forward, catching him before he hit the ground. His single eye narrowed as he urged, ��Wake up. Father and the others are still waiting for you!��


    ��Cough, cough... It��s not that bad.��


    Rhaegar managed a heavy cough, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and gave a faint smile.


    Aemond froze momentarily, utterly dumbfounded by his brother��s response.


    Even now, this guy had the energy to smile.


    ...


    The war was over, and the North had returned to peace. The various factions that had united for survival began to disperse, though some chose to stay behind. Among them were the Giants, the Children of the Forest, and the First Men Beyond the Wall, who were grantednd near the Wall so they wouldn��t have to return to the unforgiving cold of the far north.


    Cregan Stark worked tirelessly, day and night, to ensure there were no conflicts between these groups and the people of the North. Though it was a significant burden, it was a reliefpared to the horrors of the war.


    132 AC.


    In King''s Landing, summer was in full swing. The streets overflowed with people rushing toward the Red Keep, the Church of the New Gods, and the Dragonpit. The brutal winter of 131 AC was a thing of the past, and the city buzzed with renewed life.


    Tales of the King��s family venturing to the North to vanquish the legendary army of the dead were on everyone��s lips. Stories of dragons breathing fire to drive away the winter��s cold inspired awe, even among those who hadn��t witnessed it firsthand. Knights from across the Seven Kingdoms who fought in the ��Desperate Battle of the Wall�� were living proof of the legends.


    For many, the Targaryens were no longer just rulers; they had be a symbol of divine power. A living god was easier to revere than an unseen one.


    ...


    Noon, Dragonpit.


    A grand corpse rested on a pyre, surrounded by 10,000 mourners. Blue Dragonfire engulfed the body as the cremation ceremony unfolded beneath the clear sky.


    Hena sat despondently, her head leaning against Dreamfyre. Her expression was a portrait of sorrow. Her mother, Alicent, had passed away.


    Alicent had refused to travel to Harrenhal during the winter, opting instead to stay in the Red Keep, where she eventually caught a fatal cold. She died clutching a copy of the <em>Seven Sacred Texts</em> to her chest.


    Maester Munkun recounted her final days:


    ��She prayed to the Seven daily for her children��s safety and often reminisced about His Grace, the Old King Jaehaerys I. In the end, illness imed her, bringing an end to her suffering.��


    ��Don��t grieve too deeply. She wouldn��t want to see you cry,�� Viserys said gently, his frail body trembling as he tried to console his mourning children.


    Aemond and Daeron had red-rimmed eyes, while Aegon seemed even more distraught than the daughter, Hena. Slumped over, he wept uncontrobly.


    Yet, despite the grief, the day��s focus was not solely on the Dragonpit.


    ...


    The Red Keep, Throne Hall.


    In a formal ceremony, the King announced the naming of six new royal titles: <ul> <li>


    Princes: <ul> <li>Aemon Targaryen, Prince of ver��s Bay.</li> <li>Maekar Targaryen, Prince of Vntis.</li> <li>Viserion Targaryen, Prince of the Golden Fields.</li> </ul> </li> <li>


    Princesses: <ul> <li>Lyanna Targaryen, Princess of Myr.</li> <li>Ba Targaryen, Princess of Lys.</li> <li>Daenaera Targaryen, Princess of Summerhall.</li> </ul> </li> </ul>


    Additionally, new appointments were made:


    A new acting Lord of Casterly Rock and a Regent for the Prince of Storm��s End.


    Changes to the Small Council, including Corlys Vryon retiring as Master of Ships due to ill health. Daeron Targaryen took his ce, with the ceremony witnessed by Rhaena Targaryen, Lady of Driftmark.


    Thus began a new chapter in the Targaryen dynasty.


    ...


    205 AC.


    Midsummer in King��s Landing.


    On Rhaenys��s Hill, where the Dragonpit once stood, a grand Dragon��s Nest had been constructed in its ce. Beneath a weirwood tree with its bright red leaves, a figure with long silver-and-gold hair reclined against the sturdy trunk, gazing out over golden wheat fields rippling in the wind. The scene resembled a shimmeringke.


    The figure tilted its head slightly, as if listening to an unseen voice.


    ...


    The Red Keep.


    ��It��s born! A healthy little prince!��


    ��Congrattions, Your Grace, you have an heir.��


    The room was abuzz with excitement.


    ��Your Grace, what will the prince��s name be?��


    Amid themotion, a strong male voice rose above the rest.


    ��Let me think�� He will be called Rhaegar. Rhaegar Targaryen.��


    Viserys IIughed heartily, cradling his newborn son.


    ...


    Under the Weirwood.


    The silver-blonde figure twitched slightly, muttering to himself.


    ��Rhaegar? That grandson will be azy one��more trouble than his father, no doubt.�� He sighed, shaking his head in mild disapproval. ��Baelon should never have been allowed to retire. These young brats in their twenties are running wild.��


    ��Rhaegar!��


    A clear, feminine voice called out from behind him. It was apanied by soft footsteps and the gentle clinking of a dragon-head ne.


    The figure smiled faintly and turned. ��Ah, you��re all here.��


    Standing behind him were several striking figures, each one beautiful and familiar, their presenceforting.


    Beside themy a massive, dark charcoal dragon with piercing green eyes and a body stretching over 300 meters.


    And beyond them, countless other figures stood, silent but ever-present.


    The figure smiled warmly.


    ��I love you all.��

 Chapter 694: Extra Story – Reunion in the New World

    Chapter 694: Extra Story �C Reunion in the New World


    San Francisco, a beautiful city.


    April 27, light rain.


    Red String District, 8th Street.


    The sky was dusky, the heavy rain pouring down and sshing dirty water onto the ground, mixing with the dust.


    In a narrow alley next to a trash can, a soft <em>rumbling</em> sound broke the silence��a pitiful noise of hungering from inside a brand-new yellow cardboard box.


    The box wobbled for a moment before toppling forward. The top p, held loosely by a non-adhesive strip, tore open and swung against the wall.


    A small head with short, silver-blonde hair peeked out. It was a delicate little boy with pale skin and wide, expressive purple eyes.


    ��I��m so hungry,�� Rhaegar pouted, cing his small hands over his rumbling stomach as if trying to quiet it.


    <em>Stop it,</em> he scolded silently. <em>You��re keeping me awake. You don��t even let me sleep when I��m hungry. Stomach, you��re so clueless.</em>Licking his lips, Rhaegar nced toward the narrow alley��s entrance, where the rainwater was pooling and spilling out onto the wider street. He longed to step outside and search for food.


    Days had passed since he��d been abandoned. His empty stomach felt like it had forgotten what joy tasted like.


    <em>Bang!</em>


    Suddenly, a muffled noise from outside the alley startled him.


    ��White-haired freak, are you aloof?��


    ��How dare you not greet us? Teach her a lesson!��


    ��That��s right, you loner!��


    The mocking bravado of several girls rang out, mingling with the dull thuds of blows and the crackle of schoolbags being thrown to the ground.


    Rhaegar��s heart pounded. <em>Don��t ask how I can tell,</em> he thought nervously. <em>The books with their colorful covers are lying all over the floor, and the ck schoolbags have been tossed to the end of the alley.</em>


    ��That was scary,�� Rhaegar murmured, hugging himself tightly. He decided it was better to stay hidden and endure the hunger a little longer.


    Eventually, the bullying ceased.


    Three high school girls with brightly dyed hair strode away, lighting cigarettes and sauntering off with smug satisfaction.


    Rhaegar envied them just a little.


    <em>Cigarettes could be sold for a bit of small change. And small change could buy food.</em>


    Then he heard it��a soft, stifled sobbing sound.


    The noise came from near the ss door of a retail supermarket at the edge of the alley.


    A young girl with long, silver-blonde hair slowly got to her feet. She shook off the mud and footprints staining her clothes and bent down to gather the scattered books. Her movements were practiced, deliberate��a clear sign this wasn��t the first time this had happened.


    She wiped the corner of her eye, but her expression remained nk. Her fair, pretty face betrayed no emotion as she stacked the books neatly in her arms.


    When she bent down to retrieve her schoolbag, the pile of books in her arms wobbled precariously, preventing her from reaching it.


    That��s when a small, dirty white hand extended toward her, clutching the schoolbag.


    ��Here you go,�� a soft voice offered.


    The silver-haired maiden looked up, her gaze meeting Rhaegar��s. His purple eyes glimmered faintly, his pale face slightly gaunt from hunger.


    She grabbed the schoolbag without a word, turned on her heel, and walked into the retail supermarket.


    No thanks. No nce back.


    Rhaegar tilted his head, frowning. ��Rude,�� he muttered before retreating back into the alley.


    Carrying his cardboard box over his head, he shielded himself from the wind and rain.


    <em>One minute... two minutes...</em>


    <em>Knock, knock!</em>


    The sound startled him.


    Someone was tapping on his cardboard box.


    Rhaegar froze, burying his head in an attempt to pretend he wasn��t there. But through a small gap in the box, he saw something sitting on the ground near his feet��a stic bag containing bread and milk.


    ��Huh?�� His mouth opened slightly in surprise.


    Quickly, he lifted the lid and poked his head out.


    All he could see was the retreating figure of the silver-haired maiden, walking away with her tattered schoolbag slung over one shoulder.


    Rhaegar��s big purple eyes sparkled with amazement. <em>Was that... a thank you?</em>


    <em>It wasn��t charity! It was a gift for helping someone. That��s different!</em>


    But even as he thought that, he pouted. ��That��s a bit much,�� he mumbled, scrutinizing the bag of food suspiciously.


    Then he straightened.


    <em>No, this isn��t right.</em>


    Rhaegar got up. Rhaegar ran. Rhaegar chased.


    Three secondster...


    Rhaegar ran back, hurriedly shoved the stic bag into his cardboard box, and hoisted it onto his head.


    <em>This is my only asset. I must not lose it.</em>


    ...


    Red String District, Street 9


    Rhaenyra walked home, her expression cold and distant. Her schoolbag hung precariously over a broken shoulder strap, swaying with each step. It had been another day of bullying, but she was already plotting her revenge. Those little punks in the alley wouldn��t escape her wrath. She would find them, and she would deal with them quietly.


    <em>Clop, clop!</em>


    Footsteps sshed through the rain behind her.


    She turned her head and saw a cardboard box��perched atop a pair of long, scrawny legs��awkwardly running after her.


    When her gaze fell on it, the box crouched down and shuffled toward amppost, doing its best to hide behind the slim pole.


    ��Boring,�� Rhaenyra muttered, frowning, and turned back toward her home.


    The house came into view��a modest two-story vi with warm light spilling from the windows. Through the slightly foggy ss, she could see her mother, Aemma, busily working in the kitchen.


    <em>Da-da-da!</em>


    The sound of hurried footsteps came again, louder this time.


    Rhaenyra frowned and spun around just in time to see the cardboard box sprinting after her again.


    <em>Plop!</em>


    The box tipped over and fell to the wet ground, revealing a small boy sprawled underneath. He clutched a half-eaten piece of bread in his mouth and an opened box of milk in one hand. The rest of the foody in a tied stic bag, which had rolled a little farther away but was mercifully intact.


    Rhaenyra sighed and walked back to him, her annoyance clear. She bent down and helped the boy to his feet.


    ��What are you doing following me?�� she asked, her tone sharp.


    ��It hurts,�� Rhaegar pouted, rubbing his bottom as he retrieved the stic bag and held it up toward her. His voice was soft but determined. ��Here you go, no more.��


    This girl was fierce, and she walked way too fast. He��d been too nervous to say anything earlier when he caught up with her.


    ��For me?�� Rhaenyra asked, raising a brow as she eyed the bag. It was unmistakably the same one she had left for the homeless boy.


    ��I don��t want your pity,�� she said curtly.


    Rhaegar puffed up slightly, his tone changing to one of mock dignity. ��I know where the welfare institute is. I can find something to eat there.��


    Rhaenyra fell silent.


    After a moment, she asked, ��Can you go to the welfare institute now?��


    Rhaegar thought for a moment, then shook his head. ��No. The welfare institute opens at 8 a.m.��


    High school sses ended at 4 p.m., the same time the institute closed.


    Rhaenyra��s frown deepened as her silence stretched on.


    Scratching his head, Rhaegar set the stic bag down at her feet and pushed his cardboard box toward the alley��s exit. ��Bye. Thanks for the expired bread and milk.��


    ��...��


    Rhaenyra grabbed him by the arm, her voice exasperated. ��Come back with me. Stay at my ce for the night.��


    ��Huh?��


    Rhaegar was stunned. He was so shocked that he froze for a moment. Was this girl even stranger than that weird temp staffer at the welfare institute?


    ��Don��t make me regret it, idiot!�� Rhaenyra snapped, dragging the boy toward her home, which was now only a few steps away.


    ��Wait! My cardboard box!�� Rhaegar cried out, yanking back slightly.


    Rhaenyra sighed in frustration but released him.


    Rhaegar hurried back, crouching to pick up his cardboard box. As he did, a small ck cat slipped into it, curling upfortably.


    ��Meow~��


    The cat was tiny, its fur sleek and ck with striking green eyes like polished agate. Rhaegar��s heart melted.


    Stray cats and stray kids just seemed to belong together.


    ��Can I bring the cat to your house as a guest?�� he asked, holding the ck cat atop the cardboard box.


    Rhaenyra turned, her face nk as she took in the absurd scene. ��Whatever. One is as good as two.��


    ��Oh yeah, we��re guests!�� Rhaegar cheered, practically skipping as he followed her across the street.


    Rhaenyra pushed open the door of her house, the creak of the hinges apanied by her weary voice. ��I��m home.��


    ��Haha, the daughter��s home!�� came a heartyugh.


    A scruffy, silver-blonde middle-aged man with a warm smile emerged from the kitchen.


    ��Just a moment, dinner��s almost ready,�� Aemma called out from the oven, where she was taking out freshly baked food.


    ��And I��ve brought someone else,�� Rhaenyra said tly.


    ��Meow~��


    Rhaenyra pped her forehead in frustration as the cat meowed again, soft but insistent.


    ��Ah, is he a ssmate?�� her father asked, his eyes alight with curiosity as he and Aemma approached the doorway.


    ��Hello,�� Rhaegar said, hoisting his cardboard box high above his head with a sweet, innocent smile.


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