91-95

*Chapter 91: A New Blessing*

*At the same time, Dragonstone.*

Under the dim night sky, a graceful figure slipped out of the castle, stealthily looking around as she moved.

Cautiously, she made her way to the beach.

Compared to a few days ago, the landscape had changed—spears were thrust into the tidal shallows, forming an eerie new scene.

By the faint moonlight, the grotesque heads impaled on the spears could barely be made out.

Among them were Dragon Guards, dragon handlers, and soldiers…

The figure glanced briefly at the gruesome display before heading to a secluded part of the shore.

There, a small boat awaited.

Standing beside it was Robert, who quickly approached when he saw the figure from afar. "Princess, the ship is ready, but you…"

"I know what I’m doing, Lord Robert," the figure interrupted him, the moonlight revealing the weary face of Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra stepped into the boat, her expression resolute. "Rhaegar has been missing for days, and my father hasn’t found any trace of him. I must return to King’s Landing to find my dragon."

"Princess, Prince Rhaegar is accompanied by his dragon. Things may not be as dire as they seem," Robert tried to persuade her.

Rhaenyra shook her head and sighed. "I’ve waited long enough."

With that, she gestured for the sailors to push the boat into the sea and row toward the larger ship waiting offshore.

---

*Meanwhile, inside the castle.*

Viserys lay on his side in bed, sound asleep.

Suddenly, his calm expression shifted—his brow furrowed, and his lips moved slightly.

He was dreaming.

In his dream, a great fire rose from King’s Landing, spreading in all directions.

In an instant, it engulfed the Seven Kingdoms.

Amidst the blazing flames, the silhouette of a young man appeared.

The youth rode a massive, jet-black dragon, his silver-gold hair flowing as he wielded a sword and spear.

Countless enemies surged toward them.

Yet, none could withstand even a single blow from the young man.

They either perished in dragonfire or fell beneath blade and spear.

In the baptism of blood and fire, the youth donned a pitch-black crown.

Viserys recognized it at once—it was the very crown worn by Aegon the Conqueror at his coronation.

The flames continued to rage.

The youth’s face grew clearer.

Viserys squinted, desperately trying to see him more clearly.

Finally, a familiar face came into view—one he knew well.

“Rhaegar!…”

Viserys involuntarily cried out.

*Thud!*

He sat bolt upright in bed, startled awake by his own voice.

Panting heavily, sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Rhaegar—it must be Rhaegar!”

It took Viserys a long moment to recover from the dream, recalling every detail.

He could not mistake the face—it was his eldest son, Rhaegar Targaryen.

At that moment, he remembered.

The only remaining black dragon in the realm was Devourer, the wild king of dragons ridden by his son.

Viserys’s gaze grew distant as he groped for the wine glass and bottle by his bedside.

Taking a deep draught, he calmed his turbulent emotions.

*Knock, knock…*

A knock came at the door, followed by the voice of Harold, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

“Your Grace, are you awake?”

Viserys wiped the sweat from his brow and replied tiredly, “Yes, it was only a dream.”

*Creak—*

The door opened, and Harold entered, concern etched on his face. “Your Grace, your sleep has not been restful lately.”

“It doesn’t matter—this dream was different.”

Viserys sipped his wine, a strange light glinting in his eyes. “This was the dream I’ve sought for so long. I’ve finally found it.”

Though his voice carried fatigue, excitement and fervor overshadowed it.

Harold frowned in confusion but remained silent as Viserys continued:

“Ser, prepare a grand feast. I have a premonition—my child is coming home.”

“Your Grace, Prince Rhaegar’s whereabouts are still unknown. A feast might be premature,” Harold urged cautiously.

Viserys’s expression darkened, his tone firm. “No! My child has returned. He is the Prince That Was Promised, born of blood and fire.”

“Your Grace…”

Harold hesitated, unsure what to say.

To him, the king seemed consumed by his longing, perhaps even delusional.

Viserys, however, dismissed the matter and changed the subject. “How goes the investigation?”

"The dragon keepers and dragon guards on the island conducted a thorough purge. Several hidden passageways were discovered within the castle, showing signs of recent activity," Harold reported.

At this point, Harold hesitated, his face uncertain. "One of the passageways leads directly to the queen's bedroom."

"Alicent?"

Viserys’s expression froze for a moment before he continued, "Are you suspecting the queen of being involved in the plot to murder Rhaegar?"

"We can't rule out the possibility. Without concrete evidence, no conclusions can be drawn," Harold replied objectively.

Hearing this, Viserys closed his eyes. His expression was unreadable, as though he were suppressing his emotions.

After a long pause, he opened his eyes and gritted his teeth. "Secretly monitor Alicent’s every move. If there’s even the slightest clue, report to me immediately."

"Yes, Your Grace," Harold responded with a nod.

Just as he was about to leave, a knock sounded at the door, followed by Robert’s voice.

"Your Grace, the princess has slipped out of the castle and boarded a ship back to King’s Landing."

"Outrageous! Who gave her the audacity to defy my orders?"

Viserys roared in anger, cursing, "Inform the maester to send a raven! The moment Rhaenyra shows up in King’s Landing, she’s to be placed under house arrest!"

"Understood, Your Grace," Robert replied, his voice trembling.

Terrified, Robert backed away from the door, shivering as he retreated to a safer distance.

That was all he could do.

Both sides fulfilled their duties, yet both endured frustration.

---

The next morning at dawn.

As the light of dawn broke through, Rhaegar was curled up on the large bed, only to be awakened by the sound of the system notification.

"This exploration is complete. Please retrieve the lost treasure."

Startled awake, Rhaegar sat up abruptly, his eyes dazed.

Underneath him was a red lacquered mask.

"Exploration completed..." Rhaegar mumbled groggily as he summoned the system interface.

*[Cursed Mask of the Shadow Child]*

*Exploration Progress: 100%*

Seeing the small text, Rhaegar immediately perked up, recalling the battle that had taken place the night before.

He had discovered the method to kill the shadow monster:

Using the head of the Shadow Binder to complete the body of the Headless Shade and defeating it with the token mask.

Glancing down at the bed, he noticed, besides the red lacquered mask, a purple glow.

Rhaegar rubbed his face, forcing a smile, and reached out to pierce the glowing orb with his finger.

"Relic successfully retrieved. Analyzing..."

"Analysis complete. Classified as an Epic Relic: Blessing of the Lord of Light."

With a clang, a black iron medallion engraved with a flaming red heart dropped out.

Rhaegar picked up the medallion and studied it carefully.

"A blessing-type relic, similar to the Blessing of the White Hart?"

He murmured softly and examined the text prompt on the medallion:

"The power of the divine lies dormant within. Do not underestimate it, for it will reveal miracles in your time of need."  

After silently reading the description, Rhaegar carefully stored the medallion.

It was clear that the medallion wasn’t meant to be used yet.

Perhaps, in the future, there would be an opportunity to trigger its effects.

"Time to get up..."

Muttering to himself, Rhaegar got dressed.

The shadow monster had been dealt with.

His adventure on the peninsula had come to an end, and it was time to return to Dragonstone to reunite with his family.

*The peninsula storyline has officially concluded. Returning to the main plotline.*

---

(End of Chapter)  

*Chapter 92: Setiga*

At Terror Hollow Fortress, the enormous body of the Glutton lay resting on the ground, its deep breaths stirring up waves of heat with each inhale and exhale.

Rhaegar approached the dragon’s head, gazing at its tightly shut vertical pupils. He gently stroked its retracted fangs and snout, speaking with curiosity:

“Glutton, you seem a bit down today?”

“Hiss…grr…”

The Glutton’s throat rolled as it let out a soft hiss, shaking its massive head.

Rhaegar understood its meaning.

“It feels full of power but didn’t have enough fun venting last night—it’s disappointed!”

Rhaegar shook his head with a chuckle. “Don’t worry. When we return to Dragonstone Island, you can settle things with those two dragons.”

After spending days together, the bond between Rhaegar and the Glutton had deepened significantly.

Rhaegar was confident that with the Glutton at its peak, it could easily defeat Wormisole and the severely injured Silverwing.

As the man and dragon continued chatting, a group of figures approached.

Turning back, Rhaegar saw Sam, Barbart, Baolan, and others cautiously eyeing the pitch-black dragon. They stopped several meters away from him, then knelt simultaneously.

“What are you doing?” Rhaegar asked, puzzled.

Sam spoke first:

“Prince, you led us to victory over the evil curse. We hope you will continue to guide us in the future.”

Barbart quickly followed:

“My brother made a grave mistake, and I don’t dare to hope for the king’s forgiveness. I only ask that you accept the loyalty of the Buren family so that we may atone by serving you.”

Rhaegar glanced at them, his gaze lingering on Baolan.

This young woman had delivered a key contribution last night by striking the Shadowbinder’s shadow with a precise arrow.

After a moment’s thought, Rhaegar spoke gently:

“I promised Falcon I’d look after his tribe. I’ll be taking the remaining members of the Peregrine Tribe with me. Is there something you wish to say?”

Baolan raised her head. Her face, though not stunning, was determined as she replied boldly:

“Prince, you’ve fought hard for the peninsula. You shouldn’t abandon the fruits of your labor and leave.”

“Fruits of my labor?” Rhaegar asked, confused.

Baolan continued calmly:

“You lifted the curse and saved the residents of the peninsula. You should gather everyone and accept their pledges of loyalty.”

“And then?” Rhaegar felt it was unnecessary.

“You’ll gain the allegiance of both the peninsula’s nobles and its wildlings, becoming the first hero in nearly a century to unite the peninsula. With honor, you can return to your family.”

Her reasoning was clear and logical.

Rhaegar opened his mouth, intending to refuse, but Sam interjected:

“Prince, the people of the peninsula are waiting for you. You should meet them.”

Frowning slightly, Rhaegar allowed himself to be led to the city walls.

Beyond the walls, he saw a gathering of the Buren family, the Kleib family, wildling armies, and even the minor noble families he’d encountered before.

The moment Rhaegar appeared atop the wall, the crowd fell to their knees in unison, their heads lifted toward him.

No one spoke, but the silence was deafening.

Seeing this, Rhaegar was momentarily stunned.

The young prince turned to Sam and the others, asking,

“Are they pledging their loyalty to me?”

“Yes, peninsula hero, Prince Targaryen,” they answered in unison, dropping to one knee and bowing their heads again.

Pressing his lips together, Rhaegar sighed helplessly. “Tell them to stand. I’m leaving soon.”

“Prince, we implore you to accept the nobles’ loyalty.”

“Prince, the warriors you appointed fight for you. They still follow your commands.”

“…”

After a long silence, Rhaegar finally nodded. “Rise. I accept your loyalty.”

He thought back to the victory of the previous night.

Everyone’s eyes were on him, filled with hope and respect—a feeling he had never experienced before.

Looking at the situation now, it was impossible to refuse their sincerity.

Hearing the prince’s response, the crowd was overjoyed.

Soon, under Barbart’s arrangements, the nobles of the peninsula—great and small—gathered in the fortress’s guest hall.

They all knelt before the young prince, offering their swords and pledging their loyalty.

Once this was done, Baolan introduced Trangler, the representative of the Crab Claws, to Rhaegar.

This wildling giant, over two meters tall and built like a bear, spoke in a low, rumbling voice:

“Prince, some of the free folk wish to return to the wilderness, but a thousand of us want to follow you.”

Rhaegar nodded slightly and instructed, "Including the remnants of the Swift Hawk tribe and the families of these thousand people, how many freefolk are there in total?"

He didn’t refuse.

Although he looked down on these simple-minded savages, he couldn’t deny that they had indeed followed his orders, even at the cost of their lives.

They deserved some of his consideration.

"Roughly two thousand people, conservatively speaking. Women and children will make up a large proportion," Baolan reported crisply.

"If we’re taking two thousand people, we’ll need a large ship," Rhaegar pointed out, posing the challenge.

Baolan responded, "The peninsula's nobles only have small boats, but I know where we can borrow a large ship."

"Let’s hear it," Rhaegar said.

Baolan lowered her head and spoke in a muffled voice, "The Celtigar family on Crab Isle. They’ve been loyal to House Targaryen for generations and have a formidable fleet."

"You’re from Celtigar?"

Seeing her reluctance, Rhaegar became curious.

Baolan lowered her head further and gritted her teeth. "Yes, Bartimos Celtigar is my father. He had me with a fisherman’s daughter."

"Then why did you end up on the Crab Claw Peninsula?" Rhaegar asked gently.

"Bartimos looked down on his illegitimate children and never cared whether we lived or died," she said bitterly.

"Tormond and I were born of different women. Fate brought us together, and we ended up working as deckhands on a merchant ship."

"One time, the ship sank at sea. Tormond and I were washed ashore on the Crab Claw Peninsula, where Uncle Falcon took us in while hunting."

As Baolan spoke, her calloused hands clenched tightly, and her voice brimmed with resentment toward her fate.

"I see."

Rhaegar sighed and said, "I’ll go to Crab Isle to borrow a ship. You and the others organize the freefolk who will leave with us."

Another tale of an illegitimate child.

Rhaegar disliked it but refrained from prying further, unwilling to pour salt on her wounds.

---

Rhaegar mounted Glutton, soaring toward Crab Isle.

Crab Isle was located off the eastern coast of the Crab Claw Peninsula, not far from Whispering Sound.

With Glutton’s speed, crossing the intervening sea took only about ten minutes before reaching Crab Isle.

The island was sizable, and its ruling family was House Celtigar.

Like House Velaryon, House Celtigar had followed House Targaryen from Old Valyria to settle in Westeros. Its members bore the distinctive Valyrian traits of silver hair and purple eyes.

House Celtigar was known for its unwavering loyalty to House Targaryen, a loyalty that endured to the present day.

Rhaegar rode Glutton, circling above Crab Isle and surveying the town below.

On the rolling hills stood a towering castle.

"This is the place."

Rhaegar patted Glutton’s back, signaling for the dragon to land outside the castle.

Screech…

Glutton circled the castle once, unleashing a stream of dragonfire to proclaim the arrival of the King of Wild Dragons.

Boom!

The massive dragon landed outside the castle, stirring up a gust of wind.

Glutton straightened its body, its thick neck stretching as its ferocious head rose above the walls that could block entire armies.

The dragon’s arrival caused an uproar on Crab Isle. Guards on the walls were visibly shaken, their courage barely keeping them from fleeing outright.

Rhaegar sat on Glutton’s back, his eyes level with the guards on the castle walls.

Calmly, he said, "Summon your lord and tell him that the Prince of House Targaryen has arrived."

---

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 93: A Fortuitous Encounter with Laenor*

“Yes, please wait a moment…”

The captain of the guard, clad in full iron armor, looked at the enormous Devourer with fear and hurriedly descended from the city wall.

The arrival of a dragon was certainly enough to draw everyone’s attention.

The castle gates were already open.

A group of attendants walked out in two orderly rows, taking small steps and keeping their heads bowed, not daring to gaze upon the dragon’s majestic presence.

Amidst the attendants were several nobles dressed in lavish attire.

At the forefront was an elderly man with a stern expression.

The old man had the traditional silver hair of Valyrian descent, sparsely remaining atop his head.

His loose skin caused his eyelids to droop, and his piercing green eyes shone with sharp intelligence.

The group moved quickly but maintained decorum as they approached.

When the gates opened fully, they stopped at the entrance, gazing at the prince perched atop the dragon.

“Devourer, let me down,” Rhaegar said softly.

“Hssaa…”

The Devourer let out a low growl, lowering its massive body so its rider could slide down from its back.

A hundred meters separated the two parties.

No one dared approach the dragon, choosing instead to wait by the gates to receive their guest.

Rhaegar slowly walked forward, his eyes scanning the group until his gaze suddenly brightened.

He had spotted a familiar face.

“Seven Gods bless us! To meet the prince here is truly a miracle!”

Before Rhaegar could speak, a round figure pushed forward from the group, his expression alight with excitement as he approached quickly.

Rhaegar smiled in surprise. “Lord Laenor, what brings you here?”

The man wasn’t a stranger—it was Laenor Strong, the Hand of the King.

Laenor, moving too fast, caused the fat around his belly to jiggle slightly, though it didn’t dampen his joy. “Prince, it is such a relief to see you safe! I’ve been searching for you across the seas for days now.”

Since Rhaegar’s disappearance while riding his dragon, Laenor had been dispatched to scour the Narrow Sea for any trace of him.

Just recently, he had visited Driftmark, home of House Velaryon.

Unexpectedly, he now encountered Rhaegar during a visit to Crab Isle, home of House Celtigar.

Upon seeing him, Laenor bent down with some effort, holding Rhaegar’s shoulders and inspecting him closely, as if ensuring he was unharmed.

Rhaegar chuckled lightly. “I’m fine. My dragon was injured and landed on the Crabclaw Peninsula to recover. It only healed a few days ago.”

He wasn’t lying.

The Devourer had indeed sustained serious injuries and had only recently regained its strength.

However, the events Rhaegar had experienced during this time were numerous and tumultuous, culminating in a rather dramatic outcome.

All in all, he had been away from Dragonstone for less than ten days.

Seeing that the prince was unharmed, Laenor let out a deep sigh of relief. “Prince, you’ve been gone for so long without any news. The king and princess have been deeply worried about your safety.”

“I’m truly sorry. Some unforeseen events delayed my journey. I returned as soon as I could after resolving them.”

Hearing that his father and sister had been so concerned moved Rhaegar deeply.

“Your safe return is the greatest news of all,” Laenor said, straightening up and leading Rhaegar toward the castle gate. He introduced him courteously: “This is Lord Bartimos Celtigar, the head of House Celtigar and the lord of Crab Isle.”

“He is also one of your father’s most loyal vassals.”

Rhaegar turned his gaze toward the white-haired elder, nodding politely. “Greetings, Lord Bartimos.”

The elder maintained his genial smile, bowing slightly as he said, “It is an honor to welcome you to Crab Isle, Prince.”

He stepped aside and gestured toward the direction of the castle, speaking softly, “As a guest from afar, please, allow us to host you in the castle.”

“It would be my honor, my lord,” Rhaegar replied with a faint smile and followed Laenor into the castle.

As one of the notable seafaring families, House Celtigar, like House Velaryon, had initially risen to power by collecting tolls from passing ships.

Later, they established a formidable fleet and began engaging in maritime trade, amassing a fortune in the process.

In just a few generations, they became fabulously wealthy.

The moment Rhaegar entered the castle, he was struck by the opulence of House Celtigar’s wealth.

The hall was covered in exquisite Myrish carpets, the windows adorned with Valyrian glass, and the walls decorated with gold and silver inlays.

Rhaegar glanced around and had only one thought in his mind.

“They’re swimming in wealth!”

Bartimos, a noble who prided himself on appearances, noticed the prince admiring the lavish décor. A trace of smug satisfaction appeared at the corners of his mouth.

“Prince, I apologize for not preparing a grander welcome banquet for you.”

“However, the kitchen has prepared a fairly elaborate feast to welcome Lord Laenor. I hope it will suffice.”

Bartimos feigned regret, though his tone carried a hint of boastfulness.

Rhaegar didn’t have high expectations for such things.

He was here for more important matters, not merely as a guest.

During the time it took the attendants to prepare the feast, Bartimos engaged in conversation with Rhaegar and Laenor.

Laenor spoke of the events that had occurred on Dragonstone after Rhaegar’s disappearance.

Several Dragonkeepers and dragon tamers had been interrogated, and some had even been executed for suspicion of foul play.

Rhaenyra had argued fiercely with her father several times, demanding to ride her dragon to the Narrow Sea to search for Rhaegar.

In turn, Rhaegar recounted his experiences on the peninsula during his absence.

The two deep-thinking adults were stunned as they listened. They had never imagined such an extraordinary tale.

The mention of the Shadowbinder's curse and the Forest Witch's magic deeply challenged their rigid, old-fashioned beliefs.

Baltimos, his face full of doubt, asked in disbelief, “Prince, are you saying magic is real and has invaded the Crab Claw Peninsula?”

“Obviously,” Rhaegar shrugged.

Leonor spoke more tactfully, “Prince, magic has been gone for many years. Most people consider it a myth.”

“If dragons were to go extinct one day, would people think they were just legends too?” Rhaegar asked innocently.

“Uh…”

The two were momentarily at a loss, unsure how to respond.

Baltimos clapped his hands and laughed. “The prince makes a good point. When I was young and sailed across the Narrow Sea, I had many thrilling adventures myself.”

Seated on a soft couch, Rhaegar spoke earnestly, “My lord, I’ve come to Crab Island this time to borrow ships to transport the freemen who follow me. I humbly ask for your assistance.”

“No problem, but…”

Baltimos hesitated, glancing at the silent Leonor.

When a member of the royal family made a request, something as minor as borrowing ships was usually not an issue.

But transporting a group of peninsula wildlings…

That wasn’t something he could agree to so easily.

Following his gaze, Rhaegar turned to Leonor and said, “If you don’t believe me, you can come to the Crab Claw Peninsula with me and see for yourselves. The nobles there have already sworn allegiance to me.”

The atmosphere turned tense.

Leonor raised his head, his eyes glinting with an unreadable expression.

His brown eyes seemed as if they were trying to pierce through Rhaegar.

Baltimos, on the other hand, lowered his head in thought, recalling his interactions with the peninsula's nobles.

They were a group of wild, arrogant aristocrats.

A single disagreement could easily lead to an all-out brawl, igniting conflicts between two or even several families.

Due to the region’s poverty, the kingdom had seldom interfered.

Most of the time, the nobles were left to their own devices, allowed to bicker and fight as they pleased.

This had made the soldiers under the peninsula nobles exceptionally battle-hardened and troublesome to deal with.

If the young prince truly had the allegiance of these nobles, it would mean he had gathered a formidable fighting force.

And with the wildlings following him, they could serve as useful cannon fodder.

Rhaegar’s ambitions would grow in time, though likely only upon his return to King’s Landing.

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 94: Reunion at Sea*

Before Leonor could respond, Baltimos solemnly declared, "Prince, the Celtigar family has always been loyal to the Crown. Your request must not be refused."

Lending a ship was a small matter; gaining the favor of the King’s eldest son was far more significant.

Crab Island was only a few hours’ sail from Dragonstone.

If one were to ride a dragon, the journey would be even shorter.

Rather than risk the prince returning to Dragonstone to prepare his own vessel, it was better to agree immediately.

Rhaegar didn’t understand the intricate political considerations at play, but he sensed that Baltimos had certain expectations of him.

He didn’t particularly care, though.

With a serious expression on his young face, he said, "Thank you for your assistance, my lord."

Baltimos maintained his smile and replied, "I will order a ship to be prepared immediately to set sail for the Crab Claw Peninsula."

Only then did Leonor emerge from his thoughts.

His gaze briefly lingered on Baltimos with a peculiar expression, before he lowered his head slightly, keeping a low profile.

Thanks to years of political training, Leonor sensed that the prince’s return to Dragonstone was likely to stir up considerable turmoil.

At such a time, it was best not to draw too much attention to himself.

---

Two days later.

Three triple-masted ships set sail from the Crab Claw Peninsula.

The ships, loaded with ragged wildlings, were headed for Dragonstone.

A sharp dragon cry pierced the skies, and an enormous pair of wings cast a shadow over the three vessels before disappearing into the clouds.

Rhaegar stood on the deck, gazing out at the vast blue sea.

Leonor approached him from behind and said in a low voice, "Prince, a raven arrived last night. The princess secretly returned to King’s Landing but was taken back to the Red Keep by the Kingsguard."

"She was trying to find me with her dragon, wasn’t she?"

Rhaegar thought of Syrax, the dragon Rhaenyra kept in the Dragonpit.

"Yes, ever since that night of the dragon tragedy, the princess has been distraught and unable to eat or sleep," Leonor replied softly.

"Once I meet Father, I’ll ride my dragon to King’s Landing to find Rhaenyra."

Rhaegar smiled.

The benefits of having a dragon were undeniable—especially when it came to traveling swiftly.

Suddenly, an angry dragon roar echoed from above.

Rhaegar looked up to see the Cannibal breaking through the clouds, flapping its massive wings and staring toward the horizon as if issuing a warning.

In response, another dragon’s shrill cry resounded, though it lacked the Cannibal’s deep resonance.

The dueling roars caught the attention of everyone on the ships.

Both the freedmen and sailors emerged from their cabins, peering up at the dragons in the sky.

Soon, a golden-scaled dragon appeared in the distance, flying toward them.

On the dragon’s back rode a young girl dressed in black dragonrider attire.

The moment he saw the golden dragon, Rhaegar couldn’t contain his excitement.

When he noticed the girl riding the dragon, his joy overflowed, and he shouted, "Rhaenyra!"

On the dragon’s back, Rhaenyra didn’t hear his call but was drawn to the sight of the Cannibal.

This newly tamed wild black dragon belonged to Rhaegar.

Rhaenyra’s eyes scanned the three ships below, eagerly searching for Rhaegar.

Sensing its rider’s excitement, the Cannibal abandoned its hostility toward the other dragon and swooped down to the sea’s surface.

Its sharp claws sliced through the waves as it hurtled toward the ship where Rhaegar stood.

Just before colliding, the dragon abruptly pulled up, soaring skyward with a powerful flap of its wings.

Its long tail brushed the deck and deftly scooped up Rhaegar, who had been waiting for it.

The dragon then slowed and gently placed its rider on its back.

As soon as he was seated, Rhaegar urged the Cannibal to ascend and approach Rhaenyra, who was midair.

The golden-scaled Syrax twisted nervously as the massive black dragon approached, emitting a warning cry.

Rhaegar’s dramatic actions didn’t escape Rhaenyra’s notice.

When she saw him, she was overcome with emotion and called out, "Rhaegar!"

She gently stroked Syrax’s scales, calming the dragon in High Valyrian.

Before long, Rhaegar and the Cannibal were airborne, drawing close to Rhaenyra.

For a moment, the black and gold dragons hovered midair, facing each other.

Rhaegar and Rhaenyra, each astride their dragons, gazed at one another.

Rhaenyra’s hair was disheveled, her eyes red and swollen, and her face showed exhaustion. Yet her gaze remained fixed on Rhaegar, unwavering.

"Rhaegar…"

She wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start.

Rhaegar also gazed at her, his eyes filled with the joy of reunion. He exclaimed in surprise, “Rhaenyra, weren’t you locked in the Red Keep? How are you here?”

Rhaenyra sniffled and tried to maintain her poise as the elder sister. With a hoarse voice, she replied, “I came to find you. They couldn’t stop me!”

Rhaegar was deeply moved upon hearing this.

As he studied her face carefully, he realized that Rhaenyra was not in good condition.

Compared to just a few days ago, her eyes were weary, and her gaze was lined with red veins.

Rhaegar opened his mouth and softly called, “Sister…”

Rhaenyra’s eyes reddened as she spoke sternly, “Come back with me, Rhaegar.”

“Of course. I’ve missed all of you.”

Rhaegar complied without hesitation, like an obedient child.

Rhaenyra gave him a glare, then commanded Syrax to turn around and fly toward Dragonstone.

“Gluttonous One, let’s follow.”

Rhaegar smiled brightly, steering Gluttonous One to follow closely. They soared among the clouds, circling around Syrax.

The two dragons were vastly different in age and size.

In front of Gluttonous One, Syrax didn’t even reach half its size.

To avoid startling Rhaenyra’s dragon, Rhaegar kept a respectful distance.

Yet he was still overjoyed.

This was his first time flying with his sister, both riding dragons together.

...

Before long, the two riders and their dragons overtook the large ship and reached Dragonstone ahead of it.

Syrax, tense from Gluttonous One’s imposing presence, hastily landed on a cliff by the beach.

Rhaegar’s eyes never left Rhaenyra.

When he saw her dismount, he intended to land as well.

Unexpectedly, Gluttonous One shook its massive head, unwilling to descend, and kept circling in the sky.

Rhaegar quickly understood—there were two other massive adult dragons on Dragonstone, glaring with hostility toward Gluttonous One.

Recalling the events of the last dragon fight, Rhaegar’s heartbeat quickened.

But he had already prepared himself.

Patting Gluttonous One’s back, he whispered, “Come on, buddy. Do whatever you need to do!”

Gluttonous One snorted through its nostrils, spread its enormous wings, raised its head high, and began to prepare dragonfire in its throat.

“Hiss-kaaa…”

In the next moment, Gluttonous One let out a roar that echoed across Dragonstone. A jet of dragonfire split the azure sky, declaring the return of the King of Wild Dragons.

“Hiss-kaaa… hiss-kaaa…”

With its roar, two more dragon cries erupted from within Dragonstone, full of rage at the provocation.

Sitting atop Gluttonous One, Rhaegar looked down at the jagged and rocky island below, waiting for his long-estranged opponents.

Soon, two massive dragons of different colors burst out from the Dragonmount and charged toward the sky.

One was bronze, its vertical pupils blazing with fury, and its size rivaled Gluttonous One’s.

The other was pale green, with a large chunk of flesh missing from its neck and one wing drooping weakly as it struggled to ascend.

They were Vermithor and Silverwing.

Rhaenyra deeply loved her younger brother, and Rhaegar deeply loved his elder sister.

The first time the siblings danced together with their dragons was a pivotal moment.

---

(End of Chapter)  

*Chapter 95: The Rise of the Dragon Horde*

Enemies meeting face to face are bound to seethe with hatred.

As two massive dragons ascended into the sky, they roared furiously at the Glutton, spewing dragonfire in waves.

The Glutton flapped its wings, its slit pupils human-like as they assessed the opponents.

Unlike the Glutton, who had fully recovered after consuming marsh golden cups, Silverwing's injuries were far more severe. Silverwing had been confined to its nest, relying solely on self-healing, and a few days weren’t nearly enough for a full recovery.

As Rhaegar had observed, Silverwing was struggling even to stay airborne. Fueled solely by rage, it posed no real threat.

Today, the opponent was clear.

*The Bronze Fury—Vormithar.*

“Hissss-gahhhh...”

As the three dragons faced off, two more dragon roars split the air.

One came from the cliffs—it was Rhaenyra riding Syrax into the skies.

The other came from the jagged mountains—a sizable brown dragon burst forth from an unknown cave, watching the four dragons in the sky with cautious eyes.

But the brown dragon showed no intention of getting closer.

Instead, it perched on a distant reef, sneaking glances at the ongoing standoff.

Rhaegar glanced at it and recognized the dragon.

*The Wild Dragon—Sheep Thief.*

This was an adult Muddy Dragon, roughly the same age as Caraxes, often stealing sheep from the island’s shepherds.

Clearly, it had been drawn out by the numerous dragon roars to investigate.

There was no need to pay it much attention.

Meanwhile, Syrax flew to the Glutton’s side.

Rhaenyra, almost shoulder to shoulder with Rhaegar, glared at him angrily. “Rhaegar, what are you doing? Are you addicted to riding dragons into fights?”

Rhaegar replied firmly, “The Glutton is the king of wild dragons. It has its pride. Where it fell, it must rise again!”

“That doesn’t mean you should recklessly use dragons!”

Rhaenyra scolded him while nervously keeping an eye on Vormithar and Silverwing.

She didn’t understand Rhaegar’s reckless behavior, but she couldn’t stand idly by. She had to step in to help.

Rhaegar analyzed the situation, saying, “Silverwing is still injured. I only need to defeat Vormithar.”

“Syrax has never fought before. I can’t offer you much help,” Rhaenyra sighed deeply, her fingers turning pale as they gripped tightly.

Since becoming a dragonrider, she had never experienced a real battle.

Now, even as she reprimanded Rhaegar, part of her heart yearned for the thrill of an intense clash.

Rhaegar’s heart raced, and a smile tugged at his lips. “Just watch. The Glutton and I are strong enough.”

As they spoke, Vormithar and Silverwing could no longer hold back, spewing dragonfire as they closed in.

“Protect yourself, Rhaenyra,” Rhaegar shouted as he commanded the Glutton to surge forward, spitting green dragonfire in a daring charge.

*Boom!*

Three streams of dragonfire collided, unleashing a destructive force that sent scorching heatwaves rippling through the air.

Rhaegar flattened himself against the dragon’s back, gripping its scales tightly, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

As the first clash of dragonfire ended, the Glutton maintained its speed, quickly preparing a second stream of flame.

This time, the green dragonfire struck Vormithar’s larger frame, colliding with its neck.

Vormithar, relying on its formidable physique, endured the attack. Hovering mid-air, it beat its wings to disperse the flames.

Seizing the moment, the Glutton dove toward the lagging Silverwing.

“Hisss-gahhh!”

The Glutton’s fearsome jaws clamped down on the other side of Silverwing’s neck, eliciting a bloodcurdling screech.

“Glutton, behind you!”

At Rhaegar’s command, the Glutton released its hold, flinging Silverwing to the ground instead of finishing it off.

The Glutton swiftly repositioned, dodging a blast of golden dragonfire from behind.

Seeing its mate heavily wounded again, Vormithar was utterly enraged. It unleashed relentless torrents of golden flames, chasing the Glutton in a fiery pursuit.

The Glutton, faster and more agile, evaded the dragonfire and disappeared into the clouds.

*Below.*

Silverwing crashed to the ground with a heavy thud, blood gushing from its neck wound as it wailed in agony.

“Hissss-gahhh!”

In the distance, the Sheep Thief screeched excitedly, flapping its wings as if preparing to feast.

“Stay back!”

Rhaenyra, riding Syrax, intercepted the Sheep Thief, shouting in High Valyrian to command it.

She loathed Vormithar and Silverwing for their assault on the Glutton, which had left Rhaegar missing.

But she understood one thing even more clearly.

Dragons were one of House Targaryen’s most valuable assets.

Vermithor and Silverwing had once been the mounts of her great-grandfather, King Jaehaerys the Conciliator, and Queen Alysanne.

Both dragons had rendered great service to the family.

Even Rhaegar had not ordered Cannibal to kill Silverwing, so she could not stand idly by and let a precious, fully-grown dragon be devoured by its kin.

The Sheepstealer was older and a wild dragon.

Its size rivaled that of the Blood Wyrm, Caraxes.

Syrax, however, was younger and only half the size of the Sheepstealer.

Rhaenyra was extremely nervous as she rode Syrax to confront the Sheepstealer. Neither dragon would back down.

The Sheepstealer let out a few challenging roars but did not attack.

Sensing her rider’s tension, Syrax roared back angrily at the Sheepstealer, spreading her wings in readiness to strike.

Though small, Syrax had a fiery temper.

On the other hand, the Sheepstealer, seeing Syrax’s aggressive stance, quietly retreated.

...

The battle in the skies above continued.

The Cannibal dove into the clouds, vanishing from sight.

Vermithor, blinded by rage, gave chase without a second thought.

The mist obscured the view for a brief moment.

It was then that a massive figure emerged from the flank, slamming into Vermithor with tremendous force.

Squelch—  

The Cannibal revealed itself, its massive, fanged jaws sinking into Vermithor’s neck. Scalding dragon blood sprayed everywhere.

“Reeaaaargh...”

The attack came too quickly. Vermithor, caught off guard, could only struggle wildly in an attempt to break free.

But the Cannibal wasn’t about to give it the chance.

Its jaws clamped down tightly, its teeth digging deep into flesh, tearing at the bronze beast’s hide.

Vermithor roared in agony, flapping its wings to strike the Cannibal’s head, while its claws raked at its opponent’s body.

“Cannibal, stand down!”

At that moment, Rhaegar issued his command.

The Cannibal, its ferocity triggered by the scent of blood, hesitated for a split second before regaining composure and obeying its rider.

It released its grip, tearing away a large chunk of flesh, and tilted its head back to swallow it whole.

Before Vermithor could counterattack, the Cannibal planted its claws against its opponent’s belly and used the force to push itself away, flying off into the distance.

The bronze dragon roared in fury, struggling to remain airborne as blood gushed from its neck.

It roared for a long time, but the Cannibal was nowhere to be seen.

Just as Vermithor thought its opponent had retreated and began to lower its guard, a dark shadow shot up from below.

This time, the Cannibal had hidden beneath the clouds and attacked from below.

Crunch—  

The severely injured Vermithor couldn’t evade in time. The Cannibal’s jaws closed around the shoulder joint of one wing, and a sickening crack of breaking bone echoed through the air.

Vermithor roared in rage and pain, ignoring the agony in its neck as it tried to bite the Cannibal’s neck in return.

“Dracarys!”

Clinging to the Cannibal’s back with great effort, Rhaegar issued another command.

The Cannibal, accustomed to its rider’s orders, immediately released its grip and unleashed a torrent of dragonfire directly into Vermithor’s gaping maw.

Boom—  

The flames struck Vermithor’s head, filling the air with thick black smoke.

For a moment, Vermithor was stunned, its neck drooping limply as fresh blood gushed from its wounds.

Fortunately, its defenses were strong.

In mere moments, Vermithor regained its senses and control over its body.

Reflecting on their last dragon battle, where the Cannibal had fled in defeat, many readers were dissatisfied.

This time, however, with Rhaegar and the Cannibal fully attuned to each other, they were bound to achieve a solid victory.

As for the protagonist’s age, a significant leap forward will be coming soon, but for now, the story must run its course.

(End of Chapter)