"Who are you?" A withered voice spoke, like that of a woman who had lived for ten thousand years—ancient, yet not dead.
After blowing the horn and lighting up all its runes, Dany's consciousness gradually detached from the willow-lined dirt road at noontide and ascended into a strange, dark-red space.
Empty. Cold. Blazing. Heavy. Oppressive. Vast.
On a floor about the size of the square in front of the BJ Imperial Palace, a red dragon—fifteen or sixteen meters long—curled its body and lay on the ground.
At this moment, she was staring at Dany with an odd look.
Her eyes were startlingly human, and more importantly, she could communicate with Dany.
Her wisdom seemed even greater than that of Big Black.
"And who are you?" Dany asked in return.
"You can blow the horn, yet you still don't know who I am?" The red dragon sighed with the voice of an aged woman.
It was a female dragon, and her tone carried the weariness of one who had seen through the world's affairs.
"I know you are the dragon soul within the Dragonhorn. I know you are the owner of the dragonhorn used to make this instrument. But I do not know your identity in Valyria. To be more precise, I am curious about your relationship with Balerion," Dany said.
"I am Balerion," the red dragon replied.
"Many dragons are called Balerion. My ancestor also had a black dragon known as 'Balerion the Black Dread.'"
Dany floated lightly to the dragon's front and carefully studied her form.
There was little difference from an ordinary dragon, except that she appeared exceptionally ancient, carrying the weight of countless years. Her size did not match her apparent age.
Besides that, Dany faintly sensed a trace of divine essence in her—a very diluted one, like pouring a cup of cola into a bath. You could smell a hint of it, but it was nearly impossible to taste.
"I know what you mean, but I am Balerion—the first Balerion. The Valyrian ancestor god Balerion took his name from me," the red dragon said evenly.
"You call yourself Balerion, then what was Balerion's original name?" Dany asked curiously.
"His name was Sheep Egg."
"What?" The solemn expression on Dany's face cracked.
The red dragon said calmly, "He was called Sheep Egg. His second brother was Sheep Horn. His third brother was Sheep Eye.
The Valyrian shepherds, who lived by raising sheep, loved to name their children after the body parts of sheep.
'Sheep Egg' means ram's testicles. In the tribe, it was a title representing honor and holiness.
Among the people of Sheep Egg, only the children of the tribal chieftain were qualified to be named 'Sheep Egg,' just as many powerful dragons later came to be named 'Balerion.'"
Dany staggered slightly, feeling as if her faith had been shattered.
So the mighty and fearsome Balerion, once stripped of his glorious veneer, turned out to be nothing more than a "Sheep Egg."
But thinking more carefully, the name actually made sense.
After all, the founding emperor of the Qing Dynasty was once called "Wild Boar Skin."
Later, when he became the founding ancestor, "Nurhaci" transformed from "Wild Boar Skin" into "Son of Light"; his son, too, went from the rustic and awkward "Huang Taiji" to the majestic "Hong Taiji."
Since the Manchu script was created after their state was established, their descendants could justify it however they liked.
"What was Sheep Egg's relationship to you?" Dany asked again.
"What is your relationship with your dragons? That is what I was to him."
The red dragon's voice was no longer calm. It was complex, filled with sorrow, nostalgia, longing, and a faint touch of resentment.
"You were his dragon? A true soul-bonded dragon? Then why is your body so small? I can sense it—here, soul projections resemble physical form. You are only fifteen meters."
Even though Dany had suspected as much, hearing it directly from the red dragon still left her surprised.
Normally, the larger a dragon, the stronger it was.
Could it be that, as the first creation of blood magic, this red dragon's body had flaws?
"I already said, my relationship with him is the same as yours with your dragons. Do you only share a soul bond with them? Heh, they are your children, aren't they?"
The red dragon's gaze carried both detachment and an intimate familiarity that made Dany uncomfortable.
Yet she could sense that the red dragon was indeed friendly toward her—so friendly it felt almost affectionate.
Could it be that my 'Mother of Dragons' nature attracts her? Does she want me to be her mother? Dany thought absurdly.
"Yes, they are all my children. I hatched them from stone eggs. Five dragons in total. At present, only the eldest and second-born share a soul bond with me."
"Big Black, Little White, come out and meet our guest."
"Whoosh, whoosh!"
From the center of Dany's brow, a black and a white light beam shot forth. In an instant, they expanded into two massive dragons—Big Black at thirty meters long, and Little White at over twenty.
Compared to the slender red dragon, both were towering behemoths.
Not only were they larger in body, but the power and divine presence they radiated were overwhelming.
Big Black, unlike Dany who could control every thread of strength, released the raw pressure of a demigod "Blacksmith" once separated from her soul. His power shook the entire black-and-red space.
The red dragon's scarlet eyes brightened, then dimmed again. She said faintly, "Indeed, a demigod."
"I am also a demigod, yet my size is smaller than that of a three-year-old hatchling. When I was two, word spread among the mages that dragons had returned to the world.
Sigh, with the tides of magic surging, how could it remain hidden?
At that time, Sheep Egg faced mortal peril. Dozens of eastern mages sought to seize his dragon—me.
I was trapped in an iron net bristling with barbs, unable to escape, while he was about to be killed.
In that moment of desperate anxiety, I connected with him for the first time. It was a very peculiar state—our magical roots and souls fused together. You might not understand—"
"I understand. I call it 'Overclocked Fusion,' or the 'Godstate.' I never expected that Sheep Egg and I would share such a similar experience.
I too once faced danger, when evil mages tried to steal my dragons. It was Big Black who chose to merge with me," Dany said in amazement.
She had always believed that letting Big Black and Little White replicate the nine-colored vortex in her mind was her own innovation, and that her fusion with Big Black's magical roots was unique.
She never imagined that six thousand years ago, Sheep Egg had already achieved it.
"Dragons are always feared and coveted, so it's no surprise that you share similar experiences."
The Red Dragon nodded slightly, then looked at Dahei with puzzlement and asked, "Does your so-called 'transcendent state' have no side effects?"
"The side effects are severe," Dany replied with lingering fear.
"My body is so frail because of that fusion. But your black dragon's energy is vigorous, with no sign of the blood and spirit decay that should follow," the Red Dragon said in astonishment.
So that was it!
Dany suddenly understood.
No wonder the Horn of the Three Dragons, the strongest of the Dragonhorns, was actually smaller than the Horn of the Dragonbinder.
"I have special healing magic." She had no intention of revealing her secret.
"Ah, then you are very fortunate." The Red Dragon could tell what she was thinking but did not press further.
"Hisss—yes, I am fortunate."
Dahei moved closer to Dany, his thunderous voice echoing through the space like rolling storms.
"Hisss—" Xiaobai cried out as well.
Dany gave them both a gentle smile before turning back to the Red Dragon. "Since you are a demigod, why were you sealed into a dragonhorn and made into the Horn of Dragons?"
Whether a demigod could live forever was uncertain, but living several thousand years should not have been a problem—just like the Immortal, the Rat Chef, or the Black Goat.
The Red Dragon sighed, sorrow clouding his eyes, and asked in return, "How much divine power do you sense in me?"
"Almost none. Your soul feels empty, as though you have the essence of a demigod but no magic at all. The divine aura is so faint it's barely perceptible," Dany said in confusion.
"That's because I gave all my strength to Yangdan."
"How?" Dany asked in shock.
The Red Dragon looked deeply into her eyes and said, "By never leaving the transcendent state."
"Ah!"
The answer startled Dany so much that she couldn't help but cry out.
"If the transcendent state is never lifted, doesn't that mean the dragon is doomed to die?"
The Red Dragon nodded faintly and sighed. "In that state, my magic, my soul, my divine power—every last drop—was poured into Yangdan's spiritual sea, merging with him perfectly.
Without a soul, magic, or divine power, my body naturally drifted toward death.
In fact, within just three days, my body began to decay.
Thus, when I died, the soul I left in his spiritual sea became a wraith.
My magic, divine power, and even my understanding of fire, all became his.
Yet although I died, because I remained bound to him in the state of dragon-soul resonance, my wraith did not enter the world of death. Instead, I existed in this strange condition.
Yes, exactly as you see me now—Yangdan preserved my soul within the dragonhorn and forged it into the Horn of Dragons."
Dany's face twisted with disgust, much like any mother hearing of another who butchered her own child.
Coldly, she said, "What was Yangdan thinking? Just for magic? To kill his own dragon so cruelly? You were his child!"
"Yes, I was his child. He created me with blood magic. His blood flows in me, and mine in him.
We are truly bound by blood.
But don't mistake me. My bond with him is no less than yours with your dragons. I was willing to sacrifice everything for him—even my life."
Dany froze, staring at the Red Dragon whose calm eyes and serene tone betrayed no resentment, then turned toward Dahei, who was watching her with wide, unblinking eyes.
She fell silent.
The Red Dragon's gaze swept between Dany and her two dragons before he finally spoke, his voice heavy with meaning. "This world is peculiar. Mortals cannot shatter the final barrier through cultivation.
Five hundred years after reaching the peak of demigodhood, Yangdan found himself unable to advance further.
He was unwilling to accept it. His dream had always been to master the 'Song of Fire' and become the God of Flame.
Since he yearned so deeply for godhood, how could I not help him?
I too was a demigod at my peak, with some understanding of the Song of Fire. Our meditations as man and dragon shared the same root, so my demigod core fused with his without the slightest resistance.
And just as we had anticipated, once Yangdan received all of me, his power rose further. He broke beyond the demigod's peak, with one foot stepping into the threshold of true godhood.
His strength was enough to shatter R'hllor's hold over the Song of Fire and begin composing a song of his own."
"Was it worth it? Just for a mere Song of Fire?" Dany said with a bitter smile.
And besides, Yangdan was still only a demigod, which meant he had run into another bottleneck.
"I believe it was worth it."
The Red Dragon's words carried neither reluctance nor hesitation.
"Ah!"
Dany could only sigh.
(End of Chapter)
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