"Wuu, wuu, wuu." Feeling the faint pulsing of the "placenta" at the core of his meditation foundation, the dwarf curled up in the recliner, sobbing and wiping his tears.
"What are you crying about? Your luck is quite good. You managed to form a six-colored vortex. You should be happy." Jeyne frowned and scolded.
A nine-colored vortex is a perfect inheritance. A six-colored vortex still belongs among the highest of the middle grades and is indeed something to celebrate. The problem was that at the center of the vortex, a fragment of Balerion's consciousness was gestating.
The process of gestation was also the process of the dwarf's soul being assimilated by that consciousness.
Once assimilation was complete, Balerion would be able to sense the dwarf's thoughts at any time and could descend into the dwarf's flesh even without being "invited."
Even if the dwarf died, his soul would return to the "ancestral family," merging seamlessly into Balerion's body with no rejection whatsoever.
"I don't want to be a priest, I want to be a wizard!" the dwarf cried.
"Anything a wizard can do, a priest can also do. And what a wizard cannot do, a priest can still accomplish."
"But…"He remembered Jeyne's attitude toward Arya and the Dragon Queen, those two "short-sighted, thankless normal people." The "normal people" words that had already reached his lips abruptly changed.
"But I do not worship His Majesty Balerion at all! Without the power of faith, I fear I will never be able to hatch the embryo of divine will."
"You can start changing your faith now," Jeyne said.
"I don't even understand His Majesty Balerion's doctrines. How am I supposed to believe?"
"It does not matter. The embryo's waves of will shall gradually change your thoughts. As time passes, you will eventually become His Majesty's devout follower."
The dwarf's face turned pale, and he was about to cry again.
I must leave immediately and seek the Dragon Queen's help. I absolutely cannot let that embryo of will brainwash me.
Perhaps desperation inspired him, because the dwarf suddenly thought of a way to escape his predicament.
"Jeyne, I have a plan that can achieve the same effect as capturing Aegon."
"Oh? Speak." Jeyne did not even look up, clearly lacking faith in a human's intelligence.
"We can directly challenge Daenerys to single combat. This is Meereen. There is a tradition of calling out the 'Champion of the City'!" the dwarf said.
"Champion of the City…" Jeyne pondered. "That is a Ghiscari tradition. She may not follow it. And she commands countless generals. Why would she step onto the field herself?"
The "Champion of the City" was a Ghiscari custom: from the Great Masters and their offspring, the strongest warrior was chosen to represent the city and challenge its enemy.
In short, the Ghiscari adored gladiatorial combat and turned battlefield duels like those in Romance of the Three Kingdoms into ritualized contests.
The Ghiscari truly upheld the tradition. In a formal duel, even if their chosen champion fell into danger or faced certain death, no commander would intervene.
In the original story, when Daenerys arrived at Meereen, she encountered the Champion chosen by the nephew of a Great Master (ps).
"If she refuses the challenge, we will hurl the vilest insults at her. And insulting people is my specialty.
Give me this assignment. I will go down to the walls and call her out. I promise you a huge surprise." The dwarf spoke sincerely.
"Hmm. We can try," Jeyne nodded. Failure cost nothing. And if it worked…
Just as joy spread across the dwarf's face, she shook her head. "But you cannot go. It is too dangerous. I will arrange for someone else to challenge her."
"I am not afraid to die!" the dwarf declared righteously.
"I am afraid of your death. If I meet with an accident, His Majesty Balerion's will would descend upon you, and you would be the next High Priest."
"Oh no, please do not die!"With a thud, the dwarf dropped to his knees and grabbed her legs, bawling, "I cannot bear to lose you! Let me die in your place!"
Jeyne gave the dwarf a strange look.
His emotions were sincere, his tears flowing. It did not seem like an act.
Yet earlier, he had been terrified of her and even more terrified of "paying grain tax." Could it be that while shouting "No," he secretly craved it, and perhaps his body even enjoyed it?
Alas, she had already dedicated everything to the great His Majesty Balerion, so she could not respond to his feelings.
Seeing such passion and devotion, she decided that next time she collected "grain," she would be a little more unrestrained.
"Dang! Dang! Dang!"Just as the two were wrapped in their moment, an urgent bell suddenly rang from the tunnel outside.
It was an alarm!
"Oh? The Dragon Queen is attacking our surface encampments?" the dwarf stood up in shock.
Jeyne closed her eyes and used the communion of faith to connect with Balerion's followers on the surface.
In just a few seconds, her expression completely changed. "Daenerys has launched a full-scale assault!"
"What?" The dwarf froze.
This was no rehearsal.
The trump card spy had not yet passed on any intelligence. So why had the Dragon Queen impatiently sounded the horn of decisive battle?
And had she not said herselfthat the longer the war dragged out, the better it was for her?
It was around ten in the morning. Sometime without anyone noticing, the light over Slaver's Bay had become veiled as if covered by a thin gauze, no longer bright or blistering.
The dwarf looked up and discovered he could gaze directly at the blazing sun without being blinded.
Although the sky remained blue and the air still fresh, he felt that the heavens over Slaver's Bay were dimmer than before he entered the tunnels.
One of the cave exits lay within a sheer cliff face a kilometer northwest of the coalition camp.
After much pleading, the dwarf finally convinced Jeyne to take him up to the surface.
Standing atop the thirty-meter cliff and looking toward the camp, the dwarf was left breathless with awe.
This was an unprecedented epic battle. Sky, sea, and land were all erupting at once.
Dragon roars, battle cries, pounding war drums, the bell-chimes of the horselords, the clashing of scimitars against iron swords…
The dragon battle raging in the sky was the most staggering of all.
Allied Forces: 40 Wyverns vs. the Dragon Queen Alone, with Four Great Dragons
"Gods above! Is that even a human?" The dwarf's hands trembled as he held the spyglass.
A silver steel helmet, a pale golden faceplate, blue-and-white plate armor tailored to her figure, silver lobster gauntlets, a blue silk skirt armored with sewn-in silver plates, and tall steel boots.
The Dragon Queen was completely encased in steel armor, and beyond the armor, a layer of dark red fiery mist enveloped her.
It was as if a bubble of fire wrapped around her as she flew through the air.
That was right. She was not riding a dragon, yet she was flying in the sky. Her speed and agility were like those of a wind sprite.
Whether dragons or wyverns, all of them were enormous in size. Even the smallest, the fourth one, Little Gold, was now over fifteen meters long.
Because of this, both dragons and wyverns possessed tremendous inertia. The faster they moved, the worse their ability to turn and maneuver.
The Dragon Queen, not even two meters tall, amid a vast dragon swarm tens of meters long, was like a bouncing marble, darting left and right, up and down, forward and back, stopping and shifting at will. Wherever her will moved, she reached in all directions.
"Aooo—"Suddenly, a piercing wail tore through the sky, shaking the battlefield for more than ten kilometers around.
The dwarf focused his gaze and saw the Dragon Queen crouch down, thrusting her sword straight through the skull of a shadow dragon. The demonic sword erupted with flames, streams of fire burning through the wyvern's brain, bursting out from its mouth and nostrils. The dying black-scaled wyvern let out a soul-shaking cry.
The Dragon Queen, emotionless like the Grim Reaper, immediately drew her sword and leapt into the air. It was as if she had eyes on the back of her head as she avoided a surprise attack from a thirty-meter-long, dung-green swamp dragon.
The wyvern opened a mouth as large as a city gate, fully capable of swallowing the Dragon Queen from behind in a sudden strike. Yet she seemed prepared. Her body drifted lightly through the air in a graceful arc, neatly avoiding the jaws and floating directly in front of the swamp dragon's eye.
One could not see her expression, but the dwarf swore that at that moment she had to be smug, with a smile at the corner of her lips. Her movements were so flamboyant and so fluid that they filled him with envy.
With a soft hiss, she casually, almost leisurely, pierced the wyvern's eyeball, an eye as large as a car's steering wheel.
No wonder her sword was so massive. Compared to her tall, slender body, it looked enormously disproportionate.
The black sword in her right hand reminded the dwarf of a door plank. Flames roared around the blade. With a single swing, the blue, silk-like sky itself seemed split open by a red line.
The sword plunged into the wyvern's eye, flames surging, followed immediately by another wail so violent it felt as if it would shatter the sky, like an upturned sea bowl.
Then the third wyvern charged at her. It was a shadow dragon with razor-sharp claws and merciless speed. It was faster than she was and attacked from her blind spot.
Just as she had driven her sword into the wyvern's eye, blade-like claws lashed toward her body.
She did not pull out her sword. Instead, she drifted two meters to the left, avoiding the claw strike. Then her body spun like a top, skimming along the shadow dragon's scales, sliding down its hind leg, across its lower abdomen, and all the way to the base of its wing.
As her body spun, the white sword in her left hand, brilliant as ice and snow, blossomed into a dazzling flower of white blades. It carved a trail of shattered scales and torn flesh across the wyvern's thigh and belly. Its left wing was ripped to shreds, like a banquet canopy crushed by a typhoon, dragon blood splashing everywhere.
That wyvern could no longer control its flight. Like a crippled aircraft, it screamed as it plunged toward the ground.
With a sharp hiss, the blade storm that tore through the wyvern's wing also swept several steps to the right, slicing the dragon rider on its back, who was frantically trying to stabilize the wyvern, cleanly in half.
Afterward, the Dragon Queen leapt lightly and landed on the brow of the wyvern whose left eye she had pierced earlier, calmly and unhurriedly pulling her black sword free.
"She's become a god!" The dwarf was drenched in cold sweat, dizzy and lightheaded. The Dragon Queen's way of fighting shattered his worldview. A single person could be this powerful?
"Yes, she has become a demigod," Jenny said, her face dark and cold enough to hail. "A powerful elemental demigod. The God of Wind."
"A demigod? The God of Wind?" The dwarf was momentarily confused, then cried out in shock. "The Dragon Queen is a demigod?"
"She is using divine power right now. To my eyes, she shines like a blazing little sun, her divine radiance dazzling beyond belief."
As she spoke, Jenny's voice grew sharper with hatred as she cursed, "Damn it. How did she master the Song of the Wind? Wasn't the Song of the Wind always hoarded by that monster in Westeros?"
The dwarf glanced at the furious Jenny and asked cautiously, "Is the Song of the Wind really that powerful?"
"Can't you see it? She's flying. She's taking on a whole swarm of wyverns by herself," Jenny shouted at him.
The dwarf shrank his neck and muttered softly, "The Song of the Wind lets her fly, but she's not strong just because she can fly. Ravens can fly too. Toss one into a wyvern swarm and it's just food."
Hearing this, Jenny did not get angry. Instead, she calmed down.
"You're right. Her swordsmanship and that almost omniscient, omnipotent state she has on the battlefield are completely abnormal."
Looking at the four great dragons circling high above, Jenny fell into thought. "Perhaps she has surpassed all the great Valyrian sorcerers, broken through the limitation of being able to bind with only a single dragon spirit. Several dragons, all of them are her eyes."
Sorry for the late update today. Mainly because I spent the day writing a chapter introducing Aerea and the early state of the Targaryen dynasty. I started writing at 7:30 and wrote until 9:20, producing over five thousand words, and still did not finish. I wrote until my head was spinning and almost forgot to post today's new chapter.
Sigh. Two updates today for the main story. The other update is not a VIP chapter. I'll post the main content first. I'll rest a bit and revise the final chapter before posting it.
(P.S. In the Game of Thrones TV series, the so-called hero of Meereen was turned into a comic character and was killed by a dagger thrown by Daenerys's lover.
In fact, that hero was not weak at all. In A Song of Ice and Fire, at first no one on Daenerys's side dared to face him head-on. Ser Barristan and the others were not afraid of death, but they lacked confidence in a sure victory and worried that losing would hurt morale.
In the end, it was the fat eunuch Belwas who traded wounds for wounds, enduring several strikes to finally cut him down.
After all, someone who could rise to prominence in Meereen, a city of gladiators, could never have been a nobody.
However, in this world that Daenerys traveled to, that hero never even had the chance to appear before being ambushed by the Dragon Queen riding a dragon, dying in frustration amid the great fire at the city gate.)
(End of Chapter)
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