Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 597: Young Dragon of the Smoking Sea

The image captures what lies in the depths of the heart.

Dark clouds shroud the sky, with relentless wind and waves crashing in the distance. Rain drips steadily, while the mist swirls into a tightening vortex.

Crack!

A bolt of lightning strikes, accompanied by a shrill dragon’s roar.

“Roar...”

The perspective zooms in closer, revealing a figure cloaked in dark blue. Rhaegar’s eyes are closed, and his brow suddenly furrows.

“Roar...”

A dark blue dragon’s shadow bursts through the storm, its piercing eyes searching with an extraordinary resilience. The dragon shadow flies faster and faster, almost as if it's heading straight for you.

Boom!

The shadow reveals its true form, spewing dragonfire at the encroaching storm. The blue dragonfire whirls like a silky sea current, quietly consuming the storm.

‘A lost young dragon!’ Rhaegar thought, tilting his head slightly as joy welled up within him. The dragon wasn’t very large, about the size of Iragaxys or Stormcloud—a sub-adult young dragon. This matched the information he had received.

Crackling...

Lightning and thunder crash, stirring up the torrential rain and a thick mist. His vision begins to blur, making it difficult to see clearly. Rhaegar’s heart sinks, but he forces himself to stay calm.

“Roar...”

The young blue dragon lets out another roar that echoes through the raging storm. It dives from the sky, disappearing into the turbulent mist below.

In an instant, the scene shifts.

The ruins of an old, dilapidated Free City emerge before him. Rhaegar’s eyelids twitch in shock. “Is there such a place in the Smoking Sea?”

Drizzling...

The storm grows fiercer, with the chaotic sky seeming to collapse. Large fish with jagged fangs and gray, slimy scales wriggle through the rain, which crackles as it hits the ground.

“Roar...”

The young blue dragon glides past, clutching an ugly monster in its jaws, and lands on a cliff by the sea. As it gnaws on the bloody fish, it turns its head, casting a gaze in this direction. Though the dragon’s head is obscured, its dark, vertical pupils stand out clearly, flashing with deep, keen insight.

Pop~

The fragments of memory shattered once more, leaving behind a trace of spiritual energy. Before Rhaegar could react, it felt as though fireworks exploded in his mind, sending a warm surge of energy coursing through his body. Suddenly, the weakness he had felt from the dragon-head necklace vanished completely.

“Roar... Roar...”

Though the memory had seemed long, in reality, only a brief moment had passed. Rhaegar quietly opened his eyes, and a faint, invisible light flickered within them. As the last few roars faded, the scattered fragments of memory gradually dissipated. Rhaegar’s spirit felt invigorated as he absorbed all the information, making it his own.

In just a few seconds, he had gained a wealth of knowledge. His eyes deepened as he murmured, “The ruins where the dragons’ remains were found are indeed the work of the Daeryon family.”

The remaining memories of the five dragon spirits confirmed that they were all dragons of House Daeryon. The Doom had come too swiftly, and the dragons, unable to wait for their riders, were instead consumed by the magma that rained from the sky. Beyond this, there were only insignificant fragments.

"Roar..."

The Cannibal’s green pupils dilated as its wings snapped shut, sending it into a steep dive, launching an attack. Rhaegar’s body swayed as he was momentarily taken aback.

Roar!

The Cannibal opened its massive jaws, unleashing a torrent of ash-like dragonfire. In the next instant, the dragonfire struck a nest halfway up the Fourteen Flames, instantly incinerating the surrounding yellow vines.

Roar!

A panicked shriek echoed from the nest as a black dragon shadow flew out in terror. It collided with the dragonfire, and the scarlet membranes of its wings clung to its bones, seared by the green flames.

“Roar! Roar!”

The dragon shadow cried out as it flew, racing toward the snow-capped peak in agony.

"Roar..."

The Cannibal’s green eyes gleamed with a predatory intensity, its massive body hovering in the air as thick saliva dripped from its dragon mouth.

“Control yourself, old friend,” Rhaegar said, holding the reins and soothing the beast. “We’ll have a good meal later.”

“Roar...”

The Cannibal growled, licking its scarlet tongue over its upper lip before descending from the sky. Rhaegar paused for a moment, unable to help but admire the creature. The man and dragon were in perfect sync, each sensing the other’s hunger. The hunger was so intense it could have consumed them both, but the fact that the Cannibal resisted such a powerful urge was proof that it was gradually mastering its nature.

‘A true transformation,’ Rhaegar thought with joy, his gaze lifting to the solitary snow peak.

He almost didn’t recognize the black dragon that had burst from the nest. As a dragon without a rider, Iragaxys had roamed the Lands of the Long Summer for three months, with no one to watch over it. Occasionally, it would appear, snatch a goat from a ship, and vanish. Now, it had nearly doubled in size, reaching an impressive 20 meters. At this size, it was no longer a sub-adult—it had reached the threshold of adulthood. The older Tessarion was only slightly smaller.

‘The Fourteen Flames’ influence on dragons is truly astonishing,’ Rhaegar reflected, his eyes filled with longing.

It was no wonder ancient Valyria had once supported forty Dragonlord houses and raised a thousand dragons at its peak. And it was no wonder that such a terrifying land could only be destroyed by a natural disaster, for nothing else could have brought it down.

...

Two days later...

“Roar!”

Halfway up the Fourteen Flames, the black dragon clung to the rocky cliff, stretching its neck into a nearby nest.

“Cannibal, be careful!”

Rhaegar hung upside down on the dragon’s back, his heart and eyes full of helplessness. The black dragon paid no heed, scraping at the rocks with its sharp claws before withdrawing its gray-white, horned head. With a crunching sound, the fearsome creature spat out a piece of finely scaled flesh.

Rhaegar glanced at it and sighed, rubbing his forehead. “You’ve already eaten enough.”

For three days, the beast had been hunting Firewyrms, emptying nest after nest across the Fourteen Flames, searching for any hiding places the creatures might have found.

“Roar...”

Suddenly, a high-pitched, shrill cry echoed from the horizon. The gluttonous dragon whipped around, its pupils narrowing with a fierce look.

“Calm yourself, my friend,” Rhaegar said soothingly.

A massive, scarlet-colored, snake-like creature glided towards them, its large wings spread wide. Daemon, fully armed, rode atop the dragon. Rhaegar patted the Cannibal’s back and said, “Let’s go.”

“Roar!”

The Cannibal roared defiantly, leaping from the Fourteen Flames and gliding with extraordinary agility. It was a dragon built for speed, unburdened by the heaviness of Vhagar or Vermithor. Even the swiftest of dragons, like the Blood Wyrm, would struggle to escape its grasp.

...

The Cannibal soared across the Great Grass Sea, cutting through the mist that hung over the shoreline. House Velaryon’s fleet awaited them, anchored in the slightly rippling waters of the Smoking Sea. The Sea Snake was waiting in a small boat near the beach, with Caraxes keeping watch nearby.

“Land,” Rhaegar commanded.

At the sound of his voice, the Cannibal descended slowly, touching down with a controlled grace. Rhaegar slid off the dragon’s back and joined the Sea Snake and Daemon.

As soon as they met, the Sea Snake spoke up, “Your Grace, two of our ships are too damaged to repair with wood. We’ll have to abandon them.”

Rhaegar nodded, unsurprised. It was just another sacrifice for House Velaryon, to let go of such costly warships.

Daemon tilted his head, asking, “Have you decided on the route?”

“Of course,” Rhaegar replied with confidence.

According to the dragon spirit’s guidance, the young dragon and the Dragon’s Horn were likely in the same place—the ruined Free Cities seen in the memory fragments. The Lands of the Long Summer lay north of the Smoking Sea, a hidden continental plate shrouded in mist. The ruined Free Cities, however, were on the coast, in a region with an extremely harsh climate. This meant they were situated south of the Smoking Sea, among the many Free Cities built around the Fourteen Flames—in other words, the ruins of the Free Cities Empire.

Daemon narrowed his eyes, asking, “Are you sure you want to leave this place?”

“I’ve always kept the purpose of this journey in mind,” Rhaegar said with certainty.

Leaving the Lands of the Long Summer would be easy, but returning would be far more difficult. The route to the ruined Free Cities would inevitably cross the perilous Smoking Sea. Fortunately, Rhaegar knew the way well and could avoid many of the dangers.

“We’ll sail according to this sea chart. The Cannibal and I will lead the way.”

Rhaegar pulled out a newly drawn sea chart, showing the distance between the Lands of the Long Summer and the ruined Free Cities. The Sea Snake took the chart, his expression serious. “It’s about a three-day journey, barring any unforeseen events.”

Rhaegar mounted the dragon’s back and said calmly, “If you travel with me, there will be no accidents.”

“Roar!”

The Cannibal shook its massive body and launched into the air, its hind legs propelling it upward. Daemon smiled and made his way towards the awaiting Caraxes.

...

Half an hour later...

“Roar!”

A dark dragon shadow emerged from the beach, its scarlet wings beating against the air. The fleet had already sailed far ahead, just visible on the horizon, trailing behind. As the dragon soared through the layers of mist, the Lands of the Long Summer faded back into its eerie, deathly silence.

The scene shifted.

Snow-capped mountains loomed in the distance, and at their base, the vast grassy plains stretched out, swaying gently in the wind.

“Moo~~”

A dozen sheep bleated weakly as they grazed on the sparse grass. Their dirty, emaciated bodies were a stark contrast to the lush pastures they yearned for. From time to time, one of the sheep would lift its head, gazing numbly at the sky as if wary of some lurking predator.

Squeak...

Not far away, on a hidden hillside, three figures lay low to the ground, wrapped in sheepskin coats and covered in dirt, blending into the landscape. The breeze stirred, revealing the gray, tangled hair of an old woman and two young companions. The old woman was hunched, her milky white eyes empty and sightless. The two teenagers beside her were pale, their faces gaunt from hunger, looking like wildlings from beyond the Great Wall.

“Grandma, those people are gone,” the maiden whispered, her lilac eyes fixed on the sheep grazing below.

There had been dozens of sheep, but two dragons—one black, one red—had descended upon them, leaving only half of the flock. If the sheep hadn’t been hidden in the cave, the dragons would have devoured them all.

Dong!

The old woman struck the ground with a branch, producing a dull thud. The maiden listened to the sound and lowered her head in silence. They were fortunate the dragons had left, or they would still be cowering in the cave, terrified.

Boom!

The old woman struck the branch again, her hollow eyes turning towards the beach. An unnatural flush of excitement crossed her weathered face.

“The dragons are gone,” the maiden murmured, her voice hoarse and tinged with sorrow.

Three dragons had appeared in their world, but none belonged to them. Instead, they had brought further disruption to an already harsh existence.

Dong!

She beat the ground harder, struggling to rise from the grass. The maiden reached out to help but was pulled forward instead. Together, the old woman and the young girl, both small and frail, began walking toward the beach like two sheep on an uncertain journey.

“Baa~~”

The young girl, eyes wide with a mix of hope and desperation, herded the sheep forward as if they were her most precious possession.