61-65

*Chapter 61: A Leap of Faith*

Witnessing the prince rush headlong into the fiery rain of molten lava, Cole nearly broke down.

This was the king’s eldest son—any mishap would disgrace the white robes he bore.

Summoning his courage, Cole prepared to dash out of the cave once more.

But the temperature within the cavern skyrocketed.

Molten lava dripped everywhere, making it impossible for an ordinary person to approach.

All Cole could do was watch helplessly as the prince, accompanied by the young dragon Shadow, climbed up the incline, utterly beyond his reach.

…

“Roar…”

Finally, the Devourer landed with a thud, letting out a thunderous bellow within the magma-filled cavern.

It was as if the roar pronounced the death sentence of its prey.

At this moment, Rhaegar and Shadow scrambled up the incline, pressing their backs against the scorching rock wall as they moved cautiously.

After its roar, the Devourer turned its gaze toward Rhaegar and Shadow. Its enormous green, slit-like eyes, akin to bronze bells, glinted with a playful malice.

To the dragon, the two tiny creatures struggling uphill were like little snacks—barely reaching its chest in height.

It would need to lower its head just to eat them.

The Devourer craned its neck, surveying its surroundings. Its keen sense of smell caught the scent of humans.

It was a dragon with a voracious appetite, typically hunting large fish in the ocean.

Sometimes, it would steal dragon eggs from a nesting mother or prey on weaker hatchlings.

Humans weren’t a regular part of its diet.

But anything that wandered into its sights was fair game.

The Devourer crouched low, its massive claws bending as its back arched. Its enormous head lowered close to the ground, discovering the human snack hiding inside the cave.

Its green eyes, brimming with cold indifference, opened its jaws to unleash a gathering dragon flame.

“No…”

From his vantage at the cave’s edge, Cole stared directly into the Devourer’s gaping maw.

The boiling, ghostly green dragonfire within froze him in place.

It was as if he saw his deceased grandmother waving to him.

He knew—it was the Stranger, the god of death, extending an invitation.

As the dragonfire was about to erupt, a booming shout echoed through the cavern.

“Devourer! Look at me!”

Dragons could comprehend a fraction of High Valyrian, and the Devourer, a near-century-old adult dragon, naturally understood parts of it.

It cast a disdainful glance at the petrified human in the cave, retracting the dragonfire, closing its jaws, and turning its head.

Its gaze landed on a human child standing atop a steep cliff. Beneath him lay the young dragon it had marked as a snack.

The Devourer fixed its indifferent eyes on the boy, a flash of irritation crossing its gaze, annoyed at being interrupted during its hunt.

It decided to swallow this impudent human cub first.

Locked in a stare with the ferocious adult dragon, Rhaegar’s eyes gleamed with excitement—nothing like the panic he’d shown in the face of Dreamfyre.

He was Rhaegar. Rhaegar Targaryen!

A true heir of the dragonlords. He would know fear of dragons only once in his lifetime, and that moment had passed.

Grabbing the head of the trembling Shadow, who was cowering behind him, Rhaegar issued a command: “Stay here. Don’t move, cowardly dragon!”

The young Shadow couldn’t yet understand High Valyrian, but he could sense the intent in the human’s tone.

Quivering, the dragon curled up, burying his head beneath his wings, too afraid to look.

Rhaegar couldn’t help but feel exasperated and amused. “How can a dragon like you be so cowardly? You’re a disgrace to dragonkind.”

“Skree…”

But there was no time.

The Devourer, unable to suppress its violent instincts, roared and unleashed its killing intent, dragonfire churning in its throat.

At this critical moment, Rhaegar patted the pale membrane of Shadow’s wing and said, “Take care of yourself. My adventure starts now.”

With that, Rhaegar took a step forward, facing the crouched Devourer fearlessly.

“Big guy, it’s your destiny to be conquered by me!”

Shouting in High Valyrian, Rhaegar summoned every ounce of his courage and leapt from the cliff without hesitation.

“Roar!!!”

In the instant Rhaegar leapt, the Devourer’s dragonfire erupted alongside its roar, a green inferno unfurling like a curtain of destruction.

From a distance, Cole watched this unfold, his eyes blank and his body collapsing to the ground.

“Madman… The rumors are true. All Targaryens are mad.”

He could never have imagined that a six-year-old boy would dare charge an adult dragon.

But none of that mattered anymore.

He had a gut feeling about what the monstrous dragon would do next.

His life was about to end. His honor would mean nothing.

And yet…

The dragonfire was just a fraction too slow.

In the split second the ghostly green flames erupted, Rhaegar spread his arms wide like a bird, narrowly dodging the torrent of fire.

His small body landed precisely on the Devourer’s broad, crouched back.

Thud!  

Rhaegar crashed heavily, the dragon’s iron-hard scales like steel plates. The impact nearly knocked him unconscious.

But the overwhelming urge to conquer surged through his mind, tightening every nerve and forcing him to stand.

“Ahhh!!!”

Rhaegar staggered to his feet, his head spinning. With a shout that cracked from strain, he vented his frustration, declaring his resolve to survive against all odds.

"Devourer, fly!"

Remembering the wisdom in the dragon taming manual, Rhaegar issued his first command to Devourer in High Valyrian.

"Hisss...graaa!"

Reality was harsh—Devourer completely ignored his order, letting out an angry roar and thrashing wildly.

The dragon was hell-bent on throwing off the human whelp trying to tame it, perhaps incinerating him with dragonfire in the process.

It was no ordinary dragon. Devourer was the oldest and largest wild dragon ever to roam Dragonstone—and all of Westeros.

Many had tried to tame it in the past, but every single one had been reduced to ash.

The small creature clinging to its back would be no exception.

As the ground beneath him heaved violently, Rhaegar couldn’t even stand. He toppled over with a thud.

In a desperate moment, Rhaegar clung to the ridges on Devourer’s back, using every ounce of his strength to keep from being flung into the abyss.

"Hahaha..."

Even as danger loomed overhead, there wasn’t an ounce of fear in Rhaegar’s heart. Instead, he burst out in uncontrollable laughter.

In that moment, he was treading on thin ice.

The looming threat of catastrophe didn’t crush his spirit; it only awakened the madness and courage buried deep within his bloodline.

"Devourer, I command you to fly! Carry me through the skies!"

His laughter mingled with High Valyrian commands as Rhaegar steadied himself, gripping tightly and repeating his order to fly.

"Hisss...graaa!"

This time, Devourer didn’t ignore him.

The dragon’s slit pupils, burning with fury, glared wildly. Its powerful legs pushed against the ground, and the sharp claws on its wings gripped the stone walls as it crawled out of the narrow cave.

Fly?

Then let’s fly!

On the steep slope outside, the gray shadow of a dying creature lay sprawled, barely clinging to life. Its head rested limply on the ground, and blood trickled from its dragon-like maw.

In its gray-blue eyes, Rhaegar’s small figure was reflected faintly.

As Devourer climbed out of the cave, the reflection gradually blurred and then disappeared altogether.

The gray beast let out a mournful cry, gazing in helpless frustration at the massive figure of Devourer.

...

Devourer’s mountain-like body was massive, yet its movements were still impossibly agile.

In mere moments, it emerged from the underground cavern, once again exposed to the vast, unending skies.

"Devourer, fly!"

Blinding light forced Rhaegar to squint, but he kept his hands tightly gripping the dragon’s ridges, repeating his command over and over.

He was proving his will to Devourer.

Dragons would never recognize a coward with a weak spirit. He’d already tasted failure once and would not allow history to repeat itself.

Beneath the clear blue sky and the fluffy white clouds, Devourer’s jet-black body loomed like a coal-black mountain. Its wings unfurled with a majestic stretch, revealing its powerful frame.

Irritated by the incessant commands, Devourer turned its neck, bringing its menacing head closer to the tiny figure on its back.

Its blood-red maw opened wide like the gaping mouth of an abyss, and a bloodthirsty smirk formed on its draconic face.

---

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 62: The Sky and the Sea*

It didn’t unleash dragonfire, nor did it intend to tear him apart.

With a mighty flap of its wings, the gluttonous dragon lifted its massive body off the mountain peak, soaring into the boundless sky.

Feeling the weightlessness envelop him, Rhaegar struggled to open his eyes, barely managing to squint through the dizziness. He realized there was no longer anything blocking his view—above him was the drifting sea of clouds.

“We’re flying...”

His eyes widened in astonishment. Rhaegar murmured softly to himself, gazing in awe at the breathtaking scenery, utterly at a loss.

Then, an overwhelming joy overtook him. Ecstatic, he burst into laughter. “I’m flying! I’ve done it—I’m riding on the back of a dragon!”

Adjusting his posture, Rhaegar laid himself flat against the dragon’s back and leaned forward to peer at the ground below.

The gluttonous dragon flew fast, its wings carrying them effortlessly above the clouds.

What had once been the vast island of Dragonstone, which would take a whole day to traverse on foot, now appeared to Rhaegar as nothing more than a small and insignificant landmass.

Rhaegar understood—Dragonstone hadn’t shrunk.

It was simply that, from the dragon’s back, everything that once seemed grand and imposing now appeared small and unremarkable.

As he started to relax, the gluttonous dragon suddenly exhaled a stream of green dragonfire into the air. Its speed surged, and it dove straight through the scorching flames.

Rhaegar’s pupils contracted as he clung tightly to the dragon’s body, ducking to avoid the torrent of blazing dragonfire.

Every dragon is unique, each possessing distinct characteristics.

This extends to their dragonfire, which varies in both appearance and color.

The gluttonous dragon’s fire was an eerie, deathly green, resembling smoke that flickered between gaseous and liquid states, clinging to everything it touched.

Once stained by this dragonfire, it was nearly impossible to extinguish, clinging to its victim like an inescapable curse.

While Rhaegar could temporarily withstand the heat of the flames, he would never survive the prolonged agony of being engulfed by it.

*Boom!*

The gluttonous dragon tore through the sky, enveloped in its green dragonfire, and soared onward.

Rhaegar clung tightly to its back, his clothes scorched and burned from the waist down, leaving his skin red and swollen with burns.

Once again, the flames had seared his body—but this time, the injury was much less severe.

Perhaps his bloodline had grown purer, his resistance to dragonfire more formidable.

Extinguishing a strand of burning hair, Rhaegar’s face was filled with unyielding determination. He shouted at the top of his lungs: “Dragonfire!”

He could feel the dragon’s resistance—its refusal to acknowledge him as its rider.

So be it. Let the dragonfire come. He would face the inferno head-on and issue commands with unrelenting resolve.

They would see who would submit first—the furious dragon or Rhaegar himself, consumed by fire.

Hearing the High Valyrian command, the gluttonous dragon grew even more agitated, twisting and turning mid-air, spewing flames and trying desperately to shake him off.

But Rhaegar gritted his teeth and refused to let go.

He had a premonition: victory would belong to the one who held on until the very end.

---

In the cave, the gluttonous dragon’s massive form was already gone.

And with it, so was the king’s eldest son.

After a moment of stunned silence, Cole regained his composure and hastily led his men away.

The prince had vanished. He would have to report this to both the princess and the king.

Regardless of the outcome, he knew he would have to bear the responsibility.

As he stumbled out of the Dragonmount, Cole encountered the dragon guards returning from their reconnaissance of the canyon.

The guards tried to regroup with him, but he shoved them aside, rushing toward the castle without a second thought.

At some point, the once-clear sky had darkened, filled with thick, rolling clouds.

*Drip, drip...*

A sudden downpour drenched the earth, the cold rain mirroring the icy dread in his heart.

By the time he reached the castle, soaked to the bone, the royal family was already gathered in the great hall.

Looking like a drowned rat, Cole drew everyone’s attention.

Viserys was the first to speak, his confusion evident. “Ser Cole, why the panic?”

Lowering his head in shame, Cole replied despondently, “The prince has been taken away by a dragon.”

“A dragon?” Viserys was momentarily stunned, unable to comprehend.

Rhaenyra sprang to her feet, glaring at Cole with fiery eyes. “Weren’t you supposed to be searching for a hatchling?”

“We were deceived by false information and lured into the Dragonmount,” Cole admitted, his voice trembling. “We found a hatchling, yes, but then a massive adult dragon ambushed us.”

Shaking his head in despair, he continued, “The prince noticed something was wrong, but he refused to leave. Instead, he threw himself onto the dragon’s back, intending to... tame it.”

“Damn it! You just stood there and watched as Rhaegar rushed toward a dragon?” Viserys erupted with fury.

Rhaenyra strode forward, her voice urgent. “Where is Rhaegar? Where is that dragon?”

“I don’t know,” Cole confessed, his voice heavy with regret. “The prince gave the dragon a command to fly. We didn’t have time to stop him.”

Having spent years by Rhaenyra’s side, Cole had picked up enough High Valyrian to understand key phrases.

*Smack!*

The sharp sound of a slap echoed through the empty hall.

Rhaenyra, her hand still raised, pointed angrily at Cole, her voice trembling with rage. “I trusted you to protect my only brother!”

“I’m sorry...” Cole’s face bore the clear imprint of her hand, and he hung his head, overwhelmed with shame.

“Enough talk! Send people to track the dragon’s whereabouts—immediately!” Rhaenyra’s tone was icy as she stormed out of the hall ahead of everyone.

Taming an adult dragon was no trivial matter.

Every year on Dragonstone, reckless fools attempted to tame wild dragons—and paid the price for their arrogance.

No one had ever succeeded.

In the end, they either turned to ashes or were burned beyond recognition.

She thought that, after the cautionary tale of Dreamfyre, Rhaegar would settle for taming a young dragon.

Unexpectedly, Rhaegar still hadn’t extinguished his ambition to tame an adult dragon.

The wild dragons on Dragonstone, long without riders, were fiercely untamed.

Taming them was far more difficult and dangerous than handling Dreamfyre, who had been restrained by chains.

Rhaegar’s desire to tame an adult dragon was all for her sake.

If anything were to happen to him because of it…

She didn’t dare to think about it.

She would spend the rest of her life consumed by endless guilt.

---

A soaring dragon surpasses all the stallions in the world.

But an enraged dragon? The power it unleashed could destroy any town.

Unable to shake off the human child clinging to its back, Glutton’s green eyes gleamed with madness. Each roar reverberated through the clouds.

“Glutton, dragonfire!”

Lying flat on the dragon’s back, Rhaegar relentlessly issued commands.

Hearing these intrusive orders, Glutton simply refused to comply, choosing instead to defy every command.

Its body stretched and flattened, its neck dipped slightly downward, and its vertical pupils fixated on the azure sea below.

It planned to dive into the ocean to wash off the pesky human clinging to its back.

As it plummeted at high speed, Rhaegar’s body became weightless, leaving only his bloodied, blistered hands gripping the dragon’s scales.

The air pressure made it hard for him to breathe. Rhaegar clenched his eyes shut, his mouth instinctively opening, only to be filled with rushing wind.

SPLASH!  

Glutton plunged straight into the churning waves, its massive body swallowed by the sea.

Caught in the chaos, Rhaegar found himself gulping down seawater after seawater.

The salty brine filled his lungs, and soon it felt like every breath was slipping away.

For a fleeting moment, Rhaegar was overwhelmed by helplessness, his instincts urging him to release his grip.

“ROAR…”

Beneath the waves, Glutton let out a deafening roar, swallowing fish in its path, its tail propelling it upward with a surge of power.

The massive black dragon broke through the ocean’s surface, its wings unfurling as it soared back into the blue sky.

Dragons could dive briefly into the sea, but they could never stay there for long.

Glutton hated the water. Though it plunged into the ocean, it quickly burst back out.

This gave Rhaegar a chance to catch his breath.

Seizing the moment as Glutton emerged from the waves, Rhaegar pounded his chest, violently coughing up the seawater in his lungs.

Dazed, he opened his eyes, only to see the massive black dragon skimming the ocean’s surface, its talons sending up waves in its wake.

---

*(End of chapter)*

Chapter 63: Mastering Success

"Glutton, do you still not recognize me?"

Rhaegar lay weakly on the dragon's back, attempting to communicate with the colossal beast beneath him.

He had assumed he wouldn't get a response.

Unexpectedly, Glutton turned its head for the first time. Its green, slitted pupils were no longer wild with frenzy but instead reflected a human-like scrutiny.

It had to admit—the determination of the tiny creature on its back had moved it.

Snorting through its nostrils, Glutton arrogantly withdrew its head and continued flying forward.

In that moment, Rhaegar focused intently on Glutton.

Within the dragon's slitted pupils, Rhaegar saw his own reflection.

A fleeting, fragile connection formed.

Through this hazy link, Rhaegar could feel Glutton's inner self:

Savage. Arrogant. Indifferent.

This was the soul of an untamed, jet-black dragon—a creature that looked down on all others and had no need for a rider to disrupt its solitary existence.

But now, Glutton sensed Rhaegar's unyielding resolve.

It decided to give him a chance—a chance to prove himself worthy of taming the beast.

Understanding its will, Rhaegar grinned. "Bring it on. The harder the trial, the more thrilling the adventure!"

"Hisss-Kaaaah!"

Glutton roared skyward, flapping its massive wings as it surged into the sky.

Breaking through the airflow, the dragon shot upward, piercing layer after layer of moisture-laden clouds.

Reaching the highest altitude it could attain, Glutton steadied itself.

It glanced back at the insect clinging to its back and bared its teeth in a cruel grin.

Whoosh!  

Glutton reared its thick neck and performed a backflip in midair.

Once.

Twice.

Three times in a row, it flipped and used the momentum to straighten its body, diving headfirst into a plummeting freefall.

Rhaegar clung tightly to anything he could grab.

After enduring three flips, dizziness overwhelmed him. His head spun, and his body went numb in the weightless descent.

Glutton roared, breaking through the clouds below.

Rhaegar could no longer hold onto the dragon's scales and was flung off its back.

All the while, Glutton kept a sharp eye on the small creature it had shaken loose.

When it saw him finally fall, Glutton let out a triumphant screech.

Its massive body plummeted even faster, stabilizing itself just below Rhaegar.

Opening its abyss-like maw wide, it began gathering searing dragon flames in its throat.

It intended to incinerate the insect into ash, a mere snack to fill the gaps between its teeth.

Boom!  

A burst of green flames erupted from Glutton's mouth, carving a brilliant arc through the dark, clouded sky.

Rhaegar, still fully conscious, continued to plummet.

As the flames roared toward him, the heat was palpable.

Facing death, Rhaegar's eyes widened, his mind racing for a way to survive.

With Glutton directly beneath him, his odds of escaping death weren't absolute.

Stretching out his arms and legs, Rhaegar exerted all his strength to alter his fall trajectory.

But the flames were unavoidable.

"I am Rhaegar Targaryen. My will is strong enough to tame any dragon in this world!"

He repeated these words in his heart, closing his eyes and embracing the incoming flames.

Thanks to his innate ability, *Blood of Fire*, Rhaegar believed that if he could endure the dragon flames, he would undoubtedly conquer the jet-black dragon.

As the flames engulfed him, Rhaegar's clothes were entirely burned away.

Just as the intense heat began to sear his flesh, a system notification echoed in his mind:

"Congratulations, the final spark has been ignited. You have obtained..."  

*[Blood of the True Dragon]*

- *Grade*: Legendary (Red)

- *Effect*: +50% Fire Element Affinity

- *Evaluation*: "An ancient lineage brimming with mysterious power, you are the embodiment of blood and fire."

A dormant spark from his system interface suddenly flared to life, surging into Rhaegar’s chest and merging with his heart.

In an instant, Rhaegar's eyes snapped open. His pale face flushed with an unnatural red hue, and veins bulged along his neck.

Before him, his personal interface appeared and began to transform.

Rhaegar Targaryen

*Talents:*

- *Dreamer* (Gold)

- *Longevity* (Green)

*Bloodline:*

- *Ancient Valyrian Dragonlord* (+20%)

*Skills:*

- Mastery in Valyrian Language

*Relics:*

- *Blood and Fire Alike* (+50% fire resistance)

- *True Dragon’s Blood* (+50% fire affinity)

*Evaluation:*

"The ancient bloodline has awakened further—pure and untainted."

---

Rhaegar’s eyes were locked onto the bloodline section of the status screen as the percentage kept climbing.

20%, 23%, 27%...

Within the span of a single breath, his bloodline surged to 33%, and only then did the glowing “+” symbol fade away.

Unbeknownst to him, a layer of fire had emerged on his skin, only to vanish swiftly into the dragon flames surrounding him.

He felt no alarm, only a surge of power erupting from his heart and coursing through his veins.

Even as he continued to plummet downward, emerald dragon flames enveloped every inch of his body. The searing heat assaulted his nerves with an almost unbearable intensity.

Yet Rhaegar did not scream. He allowed the flames to consume his flesh.

His skin remained unblemished, pale and tender, as his body temperature steadily rose.

He was adapting to the fire.

Maintaining a gliding posture, Rhaegar soon broke free from the encircling dragon flames.

He narrowly avoided being swallowed whole by the Devourer, the massive dragon pursuing him. Instead, he veered off course, brushing past the dragon’s enormous maw and rolling along its spine.

The Devourer’s head and tail spanned an enormous distance.

Rhaegar scrambled and clawed his way forward. Just as he was about to fall again, he managed to grab hold of the dragon’s tail tip.

*Silence.*

At that moment, the sky and sea seemed to grow still.

The howling winds subsided, and the torrential rain ceased.

Hovering above the ocean, the Devourer flapped its enormous wings, sending gusts of wind but remaining motionless.

Perhaps it doubted the power of its own flames.

Perhaps it was shocked by the resilience of this insignificant human.

Rhaegar seized the moment, climbing upward with both hands and feet until he returned to the dragon’s back.

He grasped the dragon’s scales tightly, bracing himself for its resistance.

But the Devourer did not move.

Puzzled, Rhaegar looked up, only to find himself face-to-face with the beast’s monstrous, snarling head.

At some point, the dragon had turned to gaze at him, its expression calm yet imposing.

Their eyes locked, reflecting each other’s image in their gaze.

The dragon’s snout was mere meters from Rhaegar, and its exhaled breath was scorching hot.

Rhaegar felt a strange intuition. He tentatively extended his hand toward the creature.

The Devourer’s green, slit-pupil eyes narrowed suspiciously. With a loud huff from its nostrils, it nearly knocked Rhaegar off balance.

Turning his face away from the sulfur-laden stench of its breath, Rhaegar kept his raised hand steady, waiting.

After a moment, he felt a coarse, rough texture against his palm. Turning back, his furrowed brow relaxed into a smile.

The Devourer had lowered its neck, pressing its scaled snout against his outstretched hand.

Rhaegar stared in disbelief.

His lips moved as if to speak, but no words escaped.

The dragon stared back, its proud eyes seeming to say, *"You’ve won, boy."*

Rhaegar’s face broke into a radiant grin. He stroked the dragon’s scales, a surge of indescribable accomplishment filling his chest.

“Devourer, fly!”

Retracting his hand, he grasped the dragon’s back scales tightly and issued the command in High Valyrian.

A familiar roar followed, but this time, the Devourer did not resist.

Its massive wings beat the air, lifting it into the sky. The flight was smooth and steady, with not the slightest hint of turbulence.

Rhaegar marveled at the dragon’s impeccable flying skills, releasing his grip and closing his eyes to savor the cool wind rushing past him.

In this moment, the bond between Rhaegar and the Devourer deepened.

Rhaegar could sense the dragon’s lingering reluctance—it had yet to fully accept him as its master.

Similarly, the Devourer seemed to understand Rhaegar’s thoughts, slowing its flight to glide leisurely over the ocean. From time to time, it let out triumphant roars, as if showing off.

The Devourer knew Rhaegar had never ridden another dragon.

It carried itself with pride, holding its head high, displaying its might.

Rhaegar couldn’t help but laugh at its behavior.

He was deeply moved, his cheek resting against the dragon’s cool, scaled hide as he hugged it tightly.

This was his dragon.

The one and only dragon belonging to Rhaegar Targaryen.

He held boundless hope and affection for it.

Closing his eyes, Rhaegar inhaled the dragon’s unique scent and whispered, “From this moment on, our story will echo through the ages—thousands, tens of thousands of years.”

---

*Chapter 64: Return of the Dragon Rider*

Dragonstone, the castle.

Rain pattered steadily as armored soldiers moved out from all sides of the castle.

Viserys sat alone in the dimly lit castle hall, his expression deep as he listened to the sound of the rain.

The doors to the hall creaked open.

Rhaenyra, drenched from head to toe, strode in.

"Any news of Rhaegar?" Viserys asked in a grave tone.

Rhaenyra, her mood somber, replied, "A fisherman reported seeing a massive black dragon flying across the Narrow Sea."

"Mobilize more people. Gather everyone in the castle and deploy every seaworthy ship on the island," Viserys commanded, his face shifting with concern before letting out a deep sigh.

He had already uncovered the origins of the black dragon.

It was the largest and oldest wild dragon on the island—

one notorious for stealing dragon eggs and preying on young dragons, earning the fishermen's nickname "The Devourer."

It was a vicious black dragon.

Rhaegar was only six years old; the chances of him taming The Devourer were slim.

All Viserys could do now was pray that the dragon’s known preference for human flesh wouldn’t spell the end of Rhaegar.

Rhaenyra wiped the rain from her face and said dazedly, "I've already sent out everyone we can spare. I’ve also ordered a ship to be prepared to sail back to King’s Landing."

"Back to King’s Landing?" Viserys looked at her, puzzled.

Rhaenyra’s face was full of worry. "If there’s no news of Rhaegar by tonight, I’ll return to King’s Landing to ride Syrax. I’ll take to the sea myself to search for that black dragon."

"That’s not a good idea. That black dragon is far larger than Syrax. You and your dragon would only end up as its meal," Viserys said with a sharp clarity, firmly rejecting her proposal.

"If it comes to that, I’ll kill that wild dragon myself," Rhaenyra said stubbornly.

---

On the third floor, Alicent sat stiffly by the bedside.

A man in a black cloak stood by the floor-to-ceiling window on the balcony, gazing down at the commotion in the castle below.

"You planned this. You let that child be taken by a wild dragon," Alicent said, her voice trembling with anger and nervousness.

The man in black turned around, speaking calmly, "That was just bad luck. I was trying to lure Silverwing, the one who lost her egg, but who could’ve known a wild dragon would interfere?"

"You’re the one who told me to pass along the information to Rhaenyra, misleading her to Dragonmont," Alicent said, her eyes red and filled with an unexplainable fear.

She had always known the man in black sought to set Rhaegar up.

But now that it had actually happened, the panic in her heart was unbearable.

The man in black, fully aware of her unease, sneered, "If the king’s eldest son dies, your son Aegon becomes the first male heir. Shouldn't you be happy?"

"But I’m scared. What if Rhaegar isn’t dead? What if he’s still alive..." Alicent stammered, her voice faltering.

The man in black interrupted her, "The Devourer is the most brutal of all wild dragons. That boy tried to tame it—he’s probably already been eaten."

He didn’t believe for a second that a wild dragon, which had survived decades on its own, could ever be tamed by a child.

He had already relocated the dragonkeeper who had spread the false information. With only the two imprisoned guards left for interrogation, no real leads would emerge.

Alicent fell silent, her face buried in her hands as she tried to stifle her guilt and fear.

The man in black, indifferent, said, "Don’t worry. Even if that boy somehow survives, I have other ways to deal with him."

---

The castle was abuzz with activity, and Rhaegar was at the center of all the talk.

Unaware of this, Rhaegar was reveling in the thrill of dragon riding.

After soaring over the vast expanse of the Narrow Sea for what felt like an eternity, Rhaegar finally felt he had enough.

"Devourer, let’s return to Dragonstone," Rhaegar commanded in High Valyrian.

Their bond was still weak, so most instructions had to be communicated verbally.

The Devourer, a proud and full-grown dragon, now acknowledged Rhaegar as its rider and no longer resisted his commands.

The massive dragon turned its head, flapped its wings, and accelerated away.

At full speed, the Devourer was incredibly fast.

It cut through the stormy clouds like a black meteor streaking across the sky.

Before long, the dragon descended below the clouds, and Dragonstone came into view below.

"Devourer, descend through the clouds. I want Rhaenyra and the others to see your power," Rhaegar said, his face brimming with anticipation.

Returning in glory without recognition was like wearing fine clothes in the dark.

Having tamed the most formidable wild dragon, Rhaegar was determined to astonish everyone.

At that moment, the castle was in chaos.

After an argument with Viserys in the hall, Rhaenyra stormed out.

She found Lord Robert and ordered him to ensure the ship for King’s Landing was ready to depart.

"I must return to King’s Landing before dawn—there’s not a moment to lose," Rhaenyra urged impatiently.

Lord Robert looked troubled, unwilling to arrange the princess’s return without the king’s consent.

*“Screeeech...”*

Suddenly, a deafening dragon roar shook the entire castle.

Rhaenyra lifted her head as a gust of wind blew through, scattering her rain-soaked hair.

In her sight, a massive beast, black as coal, soared above the castle.

Its enormous wings spanned half the castle, casting a shadow that shielded part of the courtyard from the rain.

“A dragon! A massive dragon!”

A guard was the first to break the stunned silence, shouting in alarm.

The others snapped back to their senses, staring fearfully at the gigantic creature above.

Ser Criston Cole, drenched and disheveled, rushed to Rhaenyra from a corner, speaking urgently: “Princess, that’s the dragon that took the prince!”

“I know. I saw Rhaegar.”

Rhaenyra stood there, gazing up at the black dragon circling above, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on the figure on its back.

Even though the distance blurred her vision, she was certain. It had to be Rhaegar.

Under the shocked stares of the onlookers, Cannibal circled the castle three full times before gliding down.

*Boom!*

With a thunderclap echoing through the storm, Cannibal avoided the castle’s towers and landed steadily on the towering ramparts.

*“Screeeech...”*

Its clawed feet gripping the stone, Cannibal unfurled its massive wings and stretched its neck upward, letting out a long, piercing roar. A ghostly green dragon flame slashed through the torrential rain like a blade.

Witnessing the terrifying flames, the guards froze in place, paralyzed by fear.

Rhaegar, seated on the dragon’s back, spoke softly: “Cannibal, let me down.”

The dragon let out a low growl, folding its wings against its sides. Its long neck lowered, bringing its head close to the castle courtyard.

As Cannibal bowed its head, it revealed Rhaegar to the crowd’s stunned eyes.

Below, Rhaenyra stood, watching him with exhilaration.

“Rhaegar!”

She cried out, running toward the ramparts.

Rhaegar looked down at his sister but didn’t dismount immediately. Instead, he climbed up the dragon’s neck and stood atop Cannibal’s head.

One hand gripped the curve of a pale, backward-sweeping dragon horn. From his elevated position, he looked down at the crowd below.

Rhaenyra ran to the dragon’s head but stopped abruptly when she noticed its glowing green eyes. She swallowed instinctively, taking a cautious step back.

Cannibal truly lived up to its reputation as the most fearsome wild dragon.

Its immense size and savage nature were terrifying enough, but its appearance alone could haunt one’s nightmares.

Its body was pitch black, without a single speck of color.

Its green eyes burned like ghostly flames, cold and unfeeling.

Its menacing head was covered with sharp, protruding spikes, and three pairs of curved dragon horns—one large and two smaller—formed a pale crown.

Standing in front of Cannibal, locking eyes with it, one might think they were staring into the face of an evil god—terrifying and malevolent.

Feeling the dragon’s scorching breath, Rhaenyra took another step back and raised her hands slightly to show she meant no harm.

She looked up at Rhaegar, who was standing on Cannibal’s head, her voice trembling with joy. “You’re safe, Rhaegar! I thought something had happened to you.”

Only she knew how worried she had been.

He was her only brother. If he were lost, there would be no one left.

Rhaegar tilted his chin upward proudly, his tone calm but firm: “I told you I could tame an adult dragon. And now, I’ve done it.”

---

(End of chapter)

*Chapter 65: Nightmare*

“Yes, you did it. You’re a brave young man!”

Tears streamed down her cheeks as Rhaenyra experienced the overwhelming emotion of regaining something she thought was lost. Choking up, she offered her praise.

Hearing this, Rhaegar smirked with pride. “Of course! I said I’d protect you all.”

But his joy didn’t last long.

Rhaenyra’s face flushed slightly, and she broke into laughter through her tears. “A real man should put on some clothes first. Standing naked in front of a lady isn’t very gentlemanly.”

A cold breeze swept past, and Rhaegar looked down.

His pale, bare body was fully exposed, with his little "manhood" shriveled from the cold.

Rhaegar’s face turned crimson at a speed visible to the naked eye. He hurriedly covered himself and stammered, “Don’t focus on the details!”

“Come down here. I have so much to say to you,” Rhaenyra said, wiping away her tears while covering her mouth to stifle a giggle.

Rhaegar, his earlier arrogance now gone, obediently slid off the dragon’s back.

Rhaenyra stepped forward, catching him in her arms. She quickly took off her cloak and wrapped it around his bare body.

Trying to mask his embarrassment, Rhaegar pointed at the dragon and said, “That’s my dragon. Its name is Glutton.”

“Didn’t the fishermen give it that name?” Rhaenyra didn’t care much about the dragon’s name; she just held her younger brother tightly.

Rhaegar replied smugly, “Glutton likes the name, and so do I. It suits its pitch-black appearance that seems to devour all light.”

“Very well. You’ve grown up, Rhaegar,” Rhaenyra said with a complicated expression as she kissed his cheek.

“Let’s go. When Father heard that Glutton had taken you, he nearly fainted from worry.”

She held him close, unwilling to let go for even a moment.

Without proper clothes to cover himself, Rhaegar didn’t resist.

Turning back, he shouted at the dragon, “Don’t wander off! I’ll come find you tomorrow!”

“Roar…”

Glutton responded, leaping down from the city wall and settling on a nearby cliff to rest.

Only when Glutton closed its eyes did the guards within the castle dare to step out, surrounding the siblings in the rain.

Rhaegar pointed at one of the guards and instructed, “Prepare enough cattle and sheep for my dragon.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

The guard didn’t dare delay, scrambling off to make arrangements.

---

Inside the castle hall, Viserys was already waiting at the door.

Seeing Rhaegar in Rhaenyra’s arms, his eyes reddened with emotion, and he nodded repeatedly. “It’s good that you’re back. It’s good that you’re safe.”

Rhaegar’s smile faded as he lowered his head. “I’m sorry, Father. I tamed a dragon without your permission.”

“It’s all right. I was worried about your safety, but you’ve proven you can accomplish what we thought was impossible.”

In an unusually understanding mood, Viserys stepped forward, gently cupping Rhaegar’s face. “Good child. Your sister told me the reason you tamed the dragon. You didn’t do it just for yourself.”

“Well, not entirely. I did want an adult dragon,” Rhaegar admitted sheepishly, feeling awkward at the sudden emotional moment.

He wasn’t interested in a hatchling.

Only a powerful, fully-grown dragon would be worthy of him.

He had once dreamed of claiming Vhagar, the largest dragon in the world.

Unfortunately, Vhagar was already tamed by Laena Velaryon.

But fate had smiled upon him.

It had granted him Glutton, a tyrant among dragons.

Its ferocious appearance and overwhelming strength had completely captivated him.

Viserys smiled faintly and didn’t press the matter. “As long as you want to protect your family, that’s enough.”

Then, as if something had occurred to him, he became serious. “You’ve both been soaked by the rain. Go take a hot bath. I’ll have Lord Robert prepare a grand feast to celebrate your taming of the largest wild dragon.”

Today had been an emotional rollercoaster for him.

At first, he feared that his eldest son’s reckless attempt to tame a wild dragon would lead to disaster.

But it turned out he had underestimated this child.

Rhaegar possessed a pure bloodline, blessed by the gods.

Miraculously, he had tamed the untamable—an unclaimed black dragon.

This was no ordinary dragon.

It had hatched during the same era as Dreamfyre, Vermithor, and Silverwing, making it a second-generation dragon.

And because it had never been tamed, Glutton had grown larger and stronger in the wild.

Heeding her father’s reminder, Rhaenyra led Rhaegar upstairs.

She was completely drenched, and although she hadn’t noticed earlier, she now felt cold and uncomfortable.

Viserys watched the backs of his two children, his gaze a mixture of pride and melancholy.

Then, as if lost in thought, he muttered to himself, “Our family is stronger now, with another fully-grown dragon under our control.”

He hadn’t seen how massive Glutton truly was.

In his mind, it was likely comparable in size to Vermithor.

A destructive force of nature, to be sure.

---

During dinner, Alyson did not make an appearance.

The maid explained that she was feeling unwell and had been frightened.

Viserys was somewhat displeased, but he forced a cheerful demeanor in front of his children, not showing his true feelings.

Rhaegar seemed slightly disappointed—he had been hoping to show off his dragon.

After dinner, Rhaegar was forcibly dragged into Rhaenyra's room.

Without a word, she pushed him onto her soft bed.

Rhaegar, with a tense expression, nervously asked, “Sister, what are you doing?”

“What do you think?”

The moment they entered the room, Rhaenyra's expression shifted. She glared at him with raised brows and fiery eyes.

In a small voice, Rhaegar said, “I didn’t mean to hide it from you, but I really wanted to tame an adult dragon.”

“As you said, you’ve tamed an adult dragon. What do you plan to do next?”

Rhaenyra hadn’t forgotten his earlier words. She was genuinely afraid he’d ride the dragon to Driftmark and stir up trouble.

This was a child with an unpredictable nature.

If he had the audacity to leap onto the back of a wild dragon during the day, he could very well ride it to spray fire everywhere at night.

“You don’t need to worry. I promise I’ll behave. Dragons aren’t just weapons—I understand that,” Rhaegar assured her seriously.

Rhaenyra grabbed his face and gave it a hard pinch, scolding, “Your promises have never held any weight. You have no credibility with me.”

“Then what do you want me to do? I’ve already tamed Cannibal. You can’t expect me not to ride it, right?”

Rhaegar resigned himself, slumping onto the bed. Though he was arguing outwardly, inwardly he was already planning to ride the dragon and fly away tomorrow.

He’d roam for a while, explore the world, and return to King’s Landing when he was done.

He’d never seen the world outside, and now that he had a dragon, he felt it was time to travel.

“Hmph, no playing tricks on me. At the very least, you can’t act recklessly during the trip to and from Driftmark,” Rhaenyra demanded firmly.

“Fine, I’ll be good and listen,” Rhaegar replied, pretending to be obedient.

Rhaenyra grabbed his chin and bit his cheek hard, warning him, “You better remember this!”

This little brother was far too wild.

His bravery was unparalleled.

If he wasn’t kept in check, it wouldn’t be long before he caused major trouble.

Their conversation concluded.

The room went dark as the lights were extinguished. Rhaenyra and Rhaegar lay on opposite sides of the bed, backs to each other, neither saying a word.

Half-asleep, Rhaegar drifted into a dream.

In his dream, he rode Cannibal across the continent, leaving behind a trail of legends.

One time, after a victorious return, he and Cannibal arrived back at Dragonstone.

Before they could land, two distinct dragon roars echoed from the island, leaving Rhaegar dizzy and disoriented.

Suddenly, two massive dragons emerged from the mountain and flanked Cannibal.

Rhaegar commanded Cannibal to fight, managing to drive the two dragons back and escape by a hair’s breadth.

Just as he thought he was safe near the cliffs of Dragonstone, another enormous dragon, its form obscured, leapt from the shadows. It spewed crimson flames, striking him down from Cannibal’s back.

The other two dragons quickly pursued.

The three dragons surrounded Cannibal, closing in.

Rhaegar, severely injured, could only watch as Cannibal was torn apart by the three dragons, its body battered and broken.

In the end, all that remained of Cannibal was a lifeless dragon’s head.

Its emerald-green eyes stared at him, filled with unyielding defiance.

The dragon battle was about to begin, showcasing Cannibal’s true power.

---

(End of Chapter)