Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 553: Dreaming of the Lands of the Long Summer

Meereen.

The city was ablaze, and countless slaves poured out of the dungeons.

“Unsullied, form up!” Grey Worm commanded, his face set with determination. He led the army in a counterattack. Five thousand Unsullied blocked the city gates, steadily closing in on all sides. Anyone who resisted was swiftly killed by their spears. For a time, the slave soldiers, the Sons of the Harpy, and the Dothraki cavalry all retreated.

“Brother hasn’t come out yet, so we’ll suppress the resistance first,” Daeron said, riding Tessarion to escort the Unsullied.

Upon hearing this, Grey Worm looked towards the Great Pyramid and then at the bloody battlefield in the sky. Two dragons fought fiercely, their blood spilling and staining the air.

...

“Roar!”

Syrax shot straight up into the sky, staring intently at the two battling giants. Rhaenyra, tense, whispered, “Be careful, Syrax.”

Syrax, ever clever, ascended above the clouds, resembling a stealthy predator. Not far away, the two dragons were locked in a fierce battle.

“Rip it apart, Caraxes!” Daemon's expression was grim as the Blood Wyrm under him bit into the other dragon's wing.

“Roar!” Sheepstealer screamed in terror, its dry, taloned claws tearing at Caraxes' scarlet scales and biting down on its neck.

“Well done, bite it to death!” Aemond grew more excited, wanting to join the fray himself. The two dragons, of similar size, competed to see which could be more ruthless.

Boom! The violent collision caused their bodies to shake. Daemon’s eyes subtly changed, and he unconsciously reached for the hilt of his sword at his waist. He glanced at the two dragons, entangled and thrashing in one place. The one-eyed Aemond sat on his dragon's back, only a dozen meters away. Daemon’s expression shifted to calm, his right hand repeatedly tightening and loosening around his sword hilt.

As he weighed his options, a third dragon descended from the sky.

“Dracarys, Syrax!” The hidden Syrax plunged down through the clouds, aiming a mouthful of golden Dragonfire at the two combatants.

Boom! Caraxes was hit in the neck, and with a burst of strength, shattered his opponent's bones. Sheepstealer was in a bad way, biting Caraxes' neck just as the Dragonfire fell from the sky.

“Roar!” Sheepstealer screamed, hastily releasing Caraxes' neck and retreating with pieces of skin torn off by its claws.

“Roar...” Caraxes' ferocity did not diminish. It shook its neck, slightly scratched, and rose into the air like a serpent.

“Stop it, do you hear me?” Rhaenyra's tone was a warning, aiming to deter both uncles and nephew.

Daemon glanced at her, abandoning the idea of drawing his sword, and his dragon slowly disappeared into the clouds. Aemond, however, did not heed the warning and rode Sheepstealer straight down, seeking cover for the next attack.

“Damn it, two idiot men!” Rhaenyra clenched her teeth, secretly relieved she hadn’t been attacked by them. “Roar!” Syrax snorted and quickly left the battlefield.

Rhaenyra looked down and her eyes widened in surprise. A hideous black dragon was hiding at the foot of the towering city walls, its nostrils slightly sniffing, as if waiting for a feast. Rhaenyra's eyes widened in horror.

“Roar...” Cannibal seemed to sense something, slowly lifting its bloodshot eyes to reveal a piercing, intelligent gaze.

...

At this moment, the rider of the cannibal dragon was feeling persecuted.

“Croak.”

The toad's face inflated into a ball as it croaked, nestled on the silver-colored short hair. Rhaegar hung his head, allowing a bare hand to twist his ear.

“Gaemon, you're not being obedient again.” The silver-haired maiden's voice was soft, but the force of her hand continued to increase.

Rhaegar paid no attention, immersed in contemplating the theory of reality and illusion. Is this a dream? Why does it feel so real? He touched the scar on his left eye and whispered, “It's not a dream. How could a dream hurt?”

Having experienced nightmares since childhood, he could easily distinguish between a good dream and a bad one. The current environment didn't resemble a shabby dream world. Dreams were fragile, like bubbles that burst at the slightest touch.

“Croak.” The toad croaked happily and closed its dead fish eyes.

Rhaegar ignored it and, holding his hands tightly, said, “Daenys, I'm getting angry.”

“Your father will be even more angry if you sneak out,” the maiden Daenys gently scolded him, but she eventually let go of his ear.

Rhaegar glanced at her, his heart full of helplessness. He seemed to recognize his identity and that of the maiden, and thus where he was. They were the children of the exiled Aenar Targaryen—the glorious Gaemon and Daenys the Dreamer.

“Then the land beneath my feet,” Rhaegar looked out at the distant snow-capped mountains and muttered, “is the Lands of the Long Summer of ancient Valyria.”

Daenys took her brother's hand and said softly, “Let's go. Father will be worried.”

“Going home?” Rhaegar raised his little face, inexplicably excited. Ancient Valyria! Although he didn't know how he got here, this was undestroyed Valyria!

“Yes,” Daenys replied, her voice flat as she walked forward. “It's been a bit unsettled lately, and Father has ordered us not to go out easily.”

“Why?” Rhaegar asked, curious.

“There is no reason,” Daenys turned her head and walked on in silence.

Rhaegar scratched his head, his mind seemingly absorbed in the child's body. Pointing to the distant snow-capped peaks, he said, “The Fourteen Flames are very tall.”

From a distance, the snow-capped peaks looked to be no less than a thousand meters high, towering enough to be blanketed in snow.

“That's not the Fourteen Flames,” Daenys corrected, turning to point to the misty fog far behind the snow-capped peaks. “The dragons are hidden in the Fourteen Flames, and the Fourteen Flames are hidden in the clouds,” she said seriously.

“But there's nothing there,” Rhaegar stretched his neck to look, but the fog seemed like a barrier, obscuring the horizon.

“If you want to see the Fourteen Flames, you have to ride a dragon,” Daenys said nonchalantly, her frown deepening at the mention of dragons.

Rhaegar turned around, about to ask where the dragons were when—

Whoosh!

A gust of wind swept over the mountains and the sea, and clouds billowed up in the sky.

“Roar!”

A loud roar shattered the world's silence. Rhaegar's breath quickened, and a slight tremor ran through his soul. The fog churned, and several tiny dragon shadows intertwined violently.

“A dragon is coming,” Daenys said nervously, urging, “Hurry up!” It seemed she disliked the dragons.

“Roar...” Suddenly, the fog broke, and the dragon shadows became clear. Before Rhaegar could even cry out, a dragon with scales as dark as the night and wings as red as blood burst out, terrifying in its appearance like the Stranger itself.

"Roar!"

The black dragon turned and spat out a jet of black Dragonfire, halting the pursuing dragons mid-air. The other dragons, full of resentment, spat out various colors of flames. Rhaegar briefly saw three different Dragonfires: green, dark red, and grayish-brown.

Boom!

A deafening explosion rocked the air as the Dragonfires collided. The black Dragonfire was so hot and domineering that it engulfed the other Dragonfires, turning into a billowing cloud of smoke.

“Roar!”

The black dragon roared in defiance, shaking off its pursuers, and leapt over the snowy peaks to the flat grassland. Rhaegar watched in awe, his eyes fixed on the dragon.

“Don’t look, just go,” Daenys urged, worried. She was running, her body weak and panting. “The dragons have been restless lately, Dragonborns are also being attacked.” That was why their father had forbidden them to go out alone.

Rhaegar stood rooted to the spot.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

His heart pounded, his blood racing. Rhaegar began to feel dizzy, his pale skin flushing, and his head feeling hot. Suddenly, a small line of text appeared in his mind:

[Relic: Blood and Fire (Flame Resistance +100%)]

Time seemed to slow as the black dragon spread its wings and glided, its scales crushing the soft grass. The searing stench of burning flesh hit him.

Rhaegar’s eyes widened as he watched the hideous dragon's maw grow larger and larger in his field of vision.

“Roar!”

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The black dragon landed in front of him, its claws pounding the ground, and its neck stretched out as it roared.

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