Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 526: The Influence of the Magic Tides

"Cannibal, go after it!” Rhaegar commanded without hesitation, snapping the dragon whip like a poisonous snake.

Roar!

Cannibal could no longer hold back and charged out at full speed. The sun shone brightly, and the waves surged below. The dark green wild dragon disappeared into the clouds, with fog billowing and concealing its shadow.

Rhaegar’s eyes were as sharp as a hawk's, fixed on the churning clouds, tracking the wild dragon's every move. A wild dragon is comparable to a walking natural disaster. He no longer cared where the wild dragon came from, only that it be captured or killed.

“Over there, I see it!” Lyanna, in her father's arms, pointed urgently at a relatively flat area in the clouds. Vermax shivered slightly, hiding in his master’s embrace. The sight of the Cannibal was terrifying—a dragon that eats dragons, an old, stinking beast.

“Cannibal, don’t let it get away!” Rhaegar trusted his daughter's guidance implicitly. The Sea of Dorne, an inland sea between Dorne and the Stormlands, was always hot and humid, with thick clouds forming from the steaming sea. The wild dragon hid in the clouds and soared, making its whereabouts difficult to detect.

Roar!

Cannibal’s pupils focused on a cloud of foul-smelling mist. He swallowed his saliva and roared, charging in. The mist and clouds scattered at the first impact, turning into cool, refreshing wisps. Rhaegar looked left and right, searching for the wild dragon's trail.

Boom!

Cannibal, a veteran of many battles, spat out a mouthful of dark green dragonfire, dispersing the large cloud blocking their view. However, the sky remained blue and clear—there was no dragon in sight.

“Roar…” Seasmoke let out a loud cry and plunged into the sky. The light silver scales blended perfectly with the clouds and mist as it searched for the old dragon that had attacked it.

“It’s helping,” Lyanna whispered, burying her little head and peering at the rampaging Seasmoke.

Rhaegar patted her on the head, his mood immediately darkening. Alone, he dared to fight the dragon, but with Lyanna in his arms, he was obviously not fit for battle.

“Roar…” Seasmoke poked its head out again, its pupils filled with hatred, but it found nothing. It finally had a backer, but the old dragon had vanished.

“Roar…” The Cannibal, with its green pupils, sniffed around.

“How could it be gone?” Rhaegar murmured, suspicious and unable to believe it. At a quick glance, the black and green wild dragon was enormous, with a head and tail stretching no less than a hundred meters—the length of an adult dragon.

The reflection in the clouds and mists had made it appear smaller. In reality, it was slightly larger than the newly adult Dreamfyre. Even if it wasn’t as formidable as Vhagar, it was not inferior to Vermithor. How could such a dragon disappear before his eyes?

A dragon species that is suitable for the sea or excels at flying and hiding, Rhaegar thought, still perplexed. Caraxes excelled at naval battles and had an endless supply of Dragonfire. Grey Ghost mastered the art of concealment and hid in the clouds for years. It was not uncommon for a wild dragon to have special survival skills.

Suddenly,

“Roar…”

The deep and powerful roar of the dragon reverberated ten miles away. Rhaegar turned in surprise, seeing only a sea of clouds. The clouds stirred gently, as if something huge had swum through them.

“Roar!”

Seasmoke reacted violently, smashing through the clouds and fog as if venting its frustration, its body moving up and down nimbly.

“The dragon has escaped,” Lyanna said timidly, clutching her father’s clothes tightly. She seemed to feel a sense of fear and was less lively than usual.

“It’s okay. We’re already very lucky to have seen it,” Rhaegar said, managing to keep his expression neutral as he ran his fingers through her unruly chestnut hair.

“Roar…”

Cannibal hung in the air, its neck turned to face its rider, its green eyes clouded with uncertainty. It seemed to be asking if it should go after the wild dragon. The Cannibal was bigger, faster, and younger. If it pursued and fought with all its strength, the wild dragon might not be able to escape.

Rhaegar hesitated for a moment, then said, “Let it go for now. Let’s go back to Storm’s End first.”

Hoo-hoo!

Cannibal snorted heavily and turned back towards Massey’s Hook. The rider took his cub with him, along with a small snack. As everyone knows, you can’t take children and food into a fight. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

...

As they passed through the sea of clouds, Seasmoke continued to roar and writhe restlessly.

Rhaegar cracked his dragon-taming whip, speaking in High Valyrian, “Seasmoke, leave this place!” An unknown adult wild dragon was wandering around, and it was not suitable for Seasmoke to face it, it had just become an adult.

“Roar...” Seasmoke roared at Rhaegar but was too afraid of the terrifying Dragoneater to make a move.

Crack!

The whip lashed out, striking the light silver dragon's back.

“Roar!” Seasmoke cried in pain, dodging back and forth. Rhaegar’s eyes flashed with anger, and he shouted, “Seasmoke, get back to Dragonmont!” He slowly rolled up the dragon whip, preparing for the next lash. If you don’t obey, you’ll get a whipping.

“Roar!” Seasmoke hesitated for a long time but eventually gave in. The dragon’s head swung, and it soared towards the Gullet.

“Let’s go too,” Rhaegar said, slightly relieved to see Seasmoke disappear completely. Losing a dragon with battlefield experience to the jaws of a wild dragon was unacceptable.

He knew the magic tides were surging, bringing many unknowns.

...

Evening at Storm's End.

Cannibal landed in the front courtyard of Storm's End, crushing a large area of masonry beneath its massive weight.

"Roar..."

A shrill squeal echoed, carrying with it a slightly mischievous temperament. Rhaegar glanced sideways to see the Mud Dragon, Sheepstealer, hiding in the corner, gnawing on the remains of a sheep.

"Aemond is here after all," Rhaegar muttered, looking at the overcast sky. The weather was as bad as ever.

"What an ugly dragon," Lyanna said, sticking her head out, her cute little face scrunched up in distaste. Cannibal was hideous, but at least it was easy to look at. The pale silver dragon they had seen on the way was even more impressive. She never thought there could be such an ugly dragon with such a small head. It was so ugly!

"Roar..." Sheepstealer, seemingly hearing the girl's grumbling, spread its wings to reveal its scrawny, skeletal appearance.

"Don't look, you'll dirty your eyes," Rhaegar rolled his eyes and slid down the dragon's back, carefully helping his daughter to the ground.

...

The father and daughter entered the castle under the escort of guards. Lyanna broke free from her father's embrace, jumped to the ground, crossed her arms, and looked up at him proudly. “Father, I'm not afraid.”

Rhaegar laughed, “What are you not afraid of?”

“Not afraid of the dragon in the clouds,” Lyanna replied matter-of-factly. “I saw it. It had dirty scales, brown wing membranes, and it was very long and fierce.”

Rhaegar raised his eyebrows, intrigued. “You could see it?”

He had just wondered how Lyanna had known which way the wild dragon went.

“Yes, it was clear,” Lyanna pouted, as if to say, “Come on, praise me!”

“How did you see it? With your eyes?” Rhaegar crouched down and gently guided her.

Lyanna, confused, said, “I just know. It's like I can see it in my head,” holding her cute little head in her hands.

“Anna, you're a little genius,” Rhaegar exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. He gave his daughter a big kiss. His bloodline was truly extraordinary. Baelon and Aemon were blessed from birth, Daenerys was a Dreamer, and Maekar seemed to have the gift of foresight. Now, Lyanna, his fifth child, had proven to have remarkable abilities as well.

Rhaegar smiled, feeling proud of his talented children.

“Hmph, I'm awesome, aren't I?” Lyanna said, not entirely understanding her father's praise but knowing she had impressed him. She crossed her arms, beaming with pride.

As the father and daughter were talking, an attendant hurried over.

“Your Grace, welcome to our humble abode,” the male servant said, bowing and coughing slightly. The arrival of a dragon, and the king on the Iron Throne, brought an inevitable pressure.

Rhaegar looked around and frowned. “Where are Lady Elenda and Lady Cassandra?” It was improper for the widow of the former Lord and the current Lady to be absent when the King was visiting.

The manservant’s face froze, and he stammered.

Sensing something was wrong, Rhaegar asked, “Where is Aemon? I saw his dragon.”

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“The Prince... he’s upstairs,” the manservant replied, on the verge of tears. “Lady Elenda is ill, and Lady Cassandra is coming down the stairs.”

“You have a poor command of the art of conversation. You are a poor host,” Rhaegar said, shaking his head before walking straight upstairs.

Lyanna tilted her head, standing there in a daze. “Huh?” Vermax lay on her head, its own head tilted to one side.

Rhaegar stepped onto the stairs and waved back. “Come on, you’ll get lost in a minute.”

“I’m coming!” At the sound of her father’s call, Lyanna sprang into action, like a horse that had broken free.

...

Rhaegar ascended the stairs, climbing all the way to the top. The sound of footsteps echoed through the hall.

Clatter, clatter, clatter...

As he reached a corner, he bumped into a beautiful figure.

“Your Grace, Your Grace,” Cassandra said, her red eyes still wet with tears. She wiped her eyes in panic and bowed in apology.

Lyanna, holding her father's leg, looked curiously at the young lady, not understanding why she was crying.

Rhaegar had the same question. “Are you worried about Lady Elenda’s condition?”

“No... yes,” Cassandra hesitated before answering, then forced a smile. “Your Grace, thank you for your concern. My mother’s illness is not a serious problem.”

Rhaegar frowned inwardly, not believing her. A noble lady ruling over the Stormlands would not lie so easily. He thought of Aemond, who was in Storm’s End, and guessed the reason behind her tears.

Rhaegar sighed and said bluntly, “Take me to Aemond. I want to talk to him.”

“Your Grace, he is busy,” Cassandra said, lowering her head and twirling the fabric of her skirt with her fingers.

“Take me there,” Rhaegar repeated in a serious tone. “This is an order.”

Cassandra dared not refuse. “Yes, Your Grace,” she replied, turning to lead the way up the stairs.

Lyanna, always curious, muttered, “It’s an order.”

Rhaegar heard her and rubbed her head affectionately. “Yes, Your Grace,” Lyanna repeated, enjoying the moment and imitating her father crisply.

...

Soon, the three of them stopped in front of a wooden door. Rhaegar stepped forward, intending to knock.

“Oh... uh-huh...” Suddenly, a series of ragged breaths emerged, accompanied by obscene words and lewd talk.

Rhaegar's hand, which was halfway to the door, froze. He turned his head stiffly, directing a complex expression towards Cassandra.

“I didn’t want to come,” Cassandra said, stepping back and avoiding eye contact.

“You! How could you...” Rhaegar was momentarily speechless. With a flick of his sleeve, he withdrew his hand, incredulous at the scenario unfolding before him. A female lord sinking to such a low level was unbelievable to him.

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