"Hissss—gah!" Little Green growled low.
"There's a monster in the river? And it even stole Vasteel?" Dany's face turned grim.
It was like how humans cannot understand a dog's barking, but if one lives with a dog day and night, even a single bark might be enough for the owner to grasp its meaning. Similarly, when the owner shouts a command in human language, the dog can execute it precisely.
Little Green was far more intelligent than a dog. When he was still young, Dany had shared many moments of draconic bonding with him, and the connection between dragon and rider far surpassed that of any dog and master.
So they were capable of a limited form of "spoken" communication, though in truth much of it came from sensing each other's spiritual fluctuations.
"What kind of monster could there be in the river? Back in Slaver's Bay, Little Green was the undisputed ruler of the gulf. At just a few months old, he burned a whale to death. Now even a giant kraken is part of his diet." Jorah Mormont was utterly baffled.
"What could live in the Rhoyne that might frighten a dragon?" Dany asked Clinton.
The reason she had summoned Clinton was because he had lived in seclusion along the Lesser Rhoyne for ten years. He knew the geography, the people, and the customs of this region better than anyone.
"Could it be that the legends of the Rhoynar are true?" Clinton asked with a hint of uncertainty. "Perhaps Little Green encountered the Old Man of the River."
Dany's eyes widened slightly. "You mean the River God?"
"Yes, the Old Man of the River! If the legends are true, he is the deity of the Rhoyne itself. Perhaps even a dragon would be wary of him," Clinton said.
"But the Rhoynar fled across thousands of miles to Dorne, becoming the so-called 'Orphans of the Greenblood.' Could their gods really still survive to this day?" Jorah asked skeptically.
Clinton frowned deeply and explained, "Just as the Andals had many kings, the Rhoynar were one people but ruled by many monarchs. Nymeria, who led her people to Dorne, was but one of their queens.
Along the banks of the Rhoyne, amid the ruins of their once-great cities, many Rhoynar strongholds remain."
"Have you seen this Old Man of the River yourself?" Dany asked.
"I have. Just half a year ago, I saw a colossal turtle, larger than any ship."
At this point Clinton's expression shifted, his voice tinged with both awe and doubt. "It was when we passed by Ny Sar, at the confluence of the Upper Rhoyne and the Noyne, no more than five hundred kilometers from here."
The Upper Rhoyne splits into three tributaries, from west to east: the Upper Rhoyne that nourishes the Andalos hills, the Noyne that runs through the Norvos mountains, and the Qynee that flows from the forests of Qohor.
Among them, the Upper Rhoyne has yet another branch called the Lesser Rhoyne, which cuts through the Velvet Mountains.
It was between the Lesser Rhoyne and the Upper Rhoyne that Clinton had once lived with young Aegon, eking out an existence upon a boat. They had no fixed home, always drifting to avoid being discovered or hunted by enemies.
"Then let's go take a look!" Dany said, excitement rising in her voice.
"Your Grace, wait!" Clinton stopped her, urging caution. "It is too dark, and we would be above the river. If there truly is some strange beast, it would have the advantage of terrain. We would be at a disadvantage. Would it not be wiser to wait until morning?"
"But what about Slaver's Bay? According to plan, we should return tonight," Jorah frowned.
Dany thought for a moment, then said, "We'll take a look first. If we fly above on dragonback, we should remain out of its reach. After all, when Little Green threw the ingot, he was only a few dozen meters above the water.
As for the darkness, that is nothing to fear. I have magic."
Wasting no time, Jorah Mormont and Jon Clinton climbed onto Blacky's back, while Dany mounted Little Green. In just ten minutes, they were soaring above the Upper Rhoyne.
They reached a gorge where the water surged violently. On the western bank rose towering cliffs a hundred meters high, while the eastern bank spread out into an endless birch forest.
The dragons swept over the ridge, and the dark forest below erupted with cries—screeching monkeys, startled birds, and the roars of prowling beasts.
They found a wide vantage point at the mountaintop. Crushing several pines and cypresses beneath them, the two dragons and three riders landed.
Cold wind howled down from the north, whipping Dany's hair and Jorah's white cloak.
Looking down, they saw the river reflecting the faint glow of the stars, a silver ribbon winding its way southward through the darkness.
The dim plain along the eastern bank looked like a skirt of birch, hanging beneath the waist of the land.
"Little Green, go down and scout," Dany commanded.
As she spoke, she closed her eyes and entered the state of the Song of the Wind.
In this state, she could sometimes hear stray whispers carried by the breeze, and it also allowed for a crude form of draconic bonding.
The Green Seer's meditation method had once helped her link with Whitey. True green seers could even control thousands of animal companions at once. Dany had never given up on studying how to use this meditation to bond with Little Green and Little Gold as well.
But it was frustrating.
For some reason, she lacked something vital. She could not, like the Three-Eyed Crow, silently bend another's will. She could not actively draw information from the winds, nor could she truly bond with her dragons.
Until one day, while meditating in the Song of the Wind within her chambers, she happened to "see" an image of Little Green bullying Little Gold in the upper garden. Little Green was butting him with his head, just like Materazzi headbutting Zidane, knocking Little Gold flat onto the ground.
The Mother of Dragons could not stand to see her children fight. Anxious, she had cried out: Little Green, are you itching for a beating, bullying your brother like that?
Little Green had then stopped in confusion, looking left and right, releasing the whimpering Little Gold.
That was when Dany realized that within a certain range—perhaps a few kilometers, within the reach of the Song of the Wind—she could project her voice into Little Green's mind.
"Hissss—gah!"
Little Green obediently leapt downward, swooping in a half-circle, flying from north to south just thirty meters above the river.
The hundred-meter-wide river was calm, with nothing unusual stirring.
Little Green was about to return when Dany, her mind clear and immersed in the cold wind off the river, whispered into his ear: "Again. This time, be bolder!"
Little Green blinked, curious about his mother's strange state.
But he did not hesitate. He circled around once more, again flying north to south, this time only twenty meters above the water.
And this time, as he swept over a certain stretch of river, he let out a thunderous roar: "Hissss—gah!"
Finally, the great river stirred in response.
"Boom—splashhh!"
Suddenly, a water column as thick as a tree trunk burst up by the riverside, like a massive hydraulic jack, striking directly against Little Green.
Actually, it looked more like a move from "Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet Technique."
The scene resembled an adult kicking a hen in the belly, sending it flapping and tumbling helplessly in the air.
Little Green landed in the nearby forest in the most pitiful state.
Before Little Green could struggle to take flight again, Dany immediately reminded him through the Song of Wind state.
"Boom—crack, crack, crack—"
Little Green crashed diagonally into the birch forest on the east bank, snapping dozens of trees as thick as a bowl's rim.
"Little Green, play dead! Moan miserably, struggle to rise but fail repeatedly, just like the day you had your wings and thigh bitten off by the wyvern," Dany continued to command remotely.
Little Green was talented at this. "Screee—gah—"
His cries were sorrowful, like a hen with its head on the chopping block. He staggered, tried to rise several times, and fell back down just as many.
"Gurgle, gurgle!"
The river seemed to boil, great waves rolling up. The water level visibly rose, flooding the weeds and shrubs along the east bank, then rapidly spreading inland.
Gradually, the river surged into the birch forest, muddy waves rolling toward Little Green.
"Seven Gods above, what is in the river?" Clinton was dumbfounded.
"The Old Man of the River?" Jorah's pupils contracted, his right hand unconsciously pressing against his sword hilt.
"Ser Clinton, stay here. I'll go down with Mormont," Dany said quickly as she climbed onto Drogon's back.
"Why him and not me?" Clinton frowned.
"I have Valyrian steel sword and armor. I can handle a demigod," Jorah explained.
Thinking of how Barristan had once fought alongside the Queen against Balerion, the Great Bear felt both anxious and expectant.
"Your Grace, give me your Valyrian steel sword. You're the queen, you can stay here. As for armor, I'm a good swimmer—I don't need it."
As Clinton spoke, he removed his chainmail and sword belt.
Dany thought for a moment. She still had a Valyrian steel dagger. She unfastened Clear Sky from her waist and handed it over. "Be careful. Without armor, you're lighter, which makes it easier for the current to sweep you away."
She remembered how her Valyrian steel sword had melted in Astapor when she intended to gift it to Aegon, but he had produced Blackfyre instead.
So Tobho had used that Valyrian steel to forge five short daggers for the Queen.
The other four were being fitted with dragonbone hilts, still in fine carving. The one at her waist had a weirwood hilt.
After that, she placed soul markers on their arms, then mounted Drogon. Holding onto the chains hanging from his legs, they glided down toward the river.
"Screee—gah—"
Little Green was still performing, stumbling into the dark forest to avoid the surging muddy waters.
By now, he was already four to five hundred meters from the riverbank, and the water had flooded four to five hundred meters inland.
It looked as if the river had burst its banks, yet the water only rose upward, not spilling sideways.
Drogon glided silently ahead of Little Green like a hunter in the dark. Clinton and the Great Bear landed in the treetops, quickly climbing down to get closer to him.
"Screee—gah—" Little Green suddenly raised his head and spewed dragonfire toward the surrounding birch trees.
In an instant, the dark forest and the muddy river were bathed in bright crimson firelight.
Almost simultaneously, Drogon dove at the shadow lurking behind Little Green in the river, his leathery wings beating loudly through the air.
"Boom!" The crimson dragonfire poured into the river like liquid. "BOOOM!"
The muddy water evaporated under the intense heat, and when the steam met the continuing dragonfire, explosions erupted.
The steam expanded rapidly beneath the flames.
Water splashed dozens of meters high. That part of the river was shallow and had once been forest. The blast pushed the river aside, exposing the grassy ground beneath, along with a black shadow writhing violently on it.
"Chirp, chirp, chirp—"
The shadow was fifteen meters long, as thick as a water tank, with blood-red eyes. Its gaping mouth was as wide as the rear door of a van, lined with jagged, sword-like teeth gleaming coldly.
Along its charred and bleeding back was a row of sharp bony spines.
"Seven hells, a demon loach, a knife-fish!"
By the firelight, Dany could see clearly: a monstrous loach, looking much like a giant catfish!
Goosebumps prickled her skin, and a chill spread through her heart.
Though it seemed long, the entire sequence happened within just two breaths.
Under Dany's fire control, Drogon had begun his attack from fifty meters away. As the river exploded, he swooped down like an eagle seizing a snake, his talons piercing into the loach's flesh.
The terrifying momentum made his claws rip through muscle like steel blades, tearing out great chunks of bloody flesh. Blood sprayed as the loach shrieked in agony.
Drogon's body crashed uncontrollably into the muddy ground.
"Boom!"
Another upheaval—suddenly the river swelled, surging like a broken dam. Waves twenty meters high rose like a blanket smothering chicks, crashing down upon Drogon and Dany on his back.
(End of Chapter)
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