The next day, the sun rose over the sea.
Stone Drum Tower, Lord's Bedchamber.
Rhaenyra lay with her eyes closed, her delicate features softened in slumber, resting her head lightly on someone's lap.
Rhaegar leaned against the edge of the bed, his loose night robe slightly open, revealing his finely sculpted collarbones, smooth as carved jade.
The siblings had waited all night for the Devourer but eventually succumbed to exhaustion in the early morning.
Drifting away from reality, Rhaegar fell into a dream.
The vision appeared suddenly, fragmented and unclear.
A colossal black dragon let out a thunderous roar, its massive wings slicing through the vast and endless ocean.
Creak—
The door to the chamber was gently pushed open from the outside, producing a faint sound.
"Mmm~"
Rhaenyra let out a sleepy murmur and groggily turned over.
Rhaegar, roused from his light slumber, opened his eyes drowsily and looked around.
Through the haze of sleep, he saw Sara entering the room, carrying a tray laden with a sumptuous breakfast. Without a word, she silently placed it on the table.
"How was last night's feast?"
Rhaegar rubbed his brow, reminding himself of the importance of the ceremony.
"The King celebrated late into the night. Everyone praised the event."
Sara's voice was soft as she withdrew from the room.
Thud—
The door closed gently behind her. Rhaegar shook his head, finally emerging from his grogginess.
He glanced outside; dawn was just breaking.
"The Devourer still hasn't returned."
He murmured to himself, a trace of unease surfacing in his heart.
"Rhaegar, I'm starving~"
Rhaenyra mumbled incoherently, rubbing her face against his lap.
Even in her half-asleep state, she couldn't escape the hunger that had awakened her.
Looking at her drowsy face, Rhaegar gently brushed aside the strands of hair covering her cheeks, revealing her slightly flushed complexion.
The more he looked, the more he was drawn in. He couldn't resist planting a soft kiss on her cheek, his nose lingering against her skin, savoring her warmth.
Rhaenyra scrunched her delicate face and muttered, "Stop it. I'm hungry."
"Wait here."
Rhaegar chuckled in satisfaction. Supporting her neck with one hand and wrapping an arm around her waist, he carefully lifted her off his lap.
He got out of bed, feeling the soreness in his waist and legs.
Walking over to the table, he saw a breakfast spread meant for five: bread, ham, jam, and a large jug of fresh milk.
Sweeping his gaze over the tray, he grabbed a piece of white bread, slathered it with jam, rolled up a few slices of ham, and stuffed it all into his mouth.
Yesterday had been exhausting—running around all day and tending to Rhaenyra at night.
…He was both tired and hungry.
As the food filled his stomach, Rhaegar felt a renewed sense of energy, his mind starting to clear.
After a moment of silence, a thought struck him.
"The Devourer should have been back by now."
Regardless of whether the hunt was successful, it shouldn't have been gone all night.
As if in response to his concern—
Hiss—Graaah!
A deep, guttural roar echoed near the shore as a massive black figure burst through the clouds.
Rhaegar's head snapped up. He quickly strode toward the balcony and peered into the distance.
A towering black dragon came into view.
But something was wrong.
The Devourer was covered in blood, one of its broad wings drooping at an awkward angle, its flight unsteady as it struggled to reach the cliffs by the sea.
Rhaegar's breath caught in his throat, a chill running down his spine.
The Devourer let out a heavy, ragged snarl. Every flap of its wings seemed labored, its emerald-green eyes locked onto the empty cliffside near Stone Drum Tower.
Boom—
Its colossal body finally lost balance, wings faltering midair before it crashed onto the rocky ground, carving a deep trench into the earth.
"The Devourer!!"
Rhaegar's face paled, his cry of alarm breaking the morning silence.
It had been years since he had seen the Devourer in such a dire state.
Without hesitation, he spun on his heels and dashed out of the room.
Rhaenyra, startled awake by the dragon's roar, noticed Rhaegar's anxious expression and blinked in confusion.
"I heard a dragon's roar. The Devourer's back?"
"Eat your breakfast first. I'll go check on it."
Rhaegar pulled on his boots, threw a cloak over his shoulders, and rushed out the door.
…
He ran as fast as he could, making his way to the cliffs.
"Graaah…"
The Devourer weakly lifted its massive head, its body lying limp in the trench, panting heavily.
"The Devourer, what happened to you?"
Rhaegar's expression turned grave as he rushed to the dragon's side, his hands gripping its enormous, blood-soaked snout.
His fingers pressed against its scales, only to find a thick layer of coagulated blood, still warm to the touch.
Rhaegar's eyes widened in horror as he examined the dragon's body inch by inch.
The thick base of its neck bore a gruesome bite wound, several meters long. Its shattered scales revealed raw, bleeding flesh, and the seeping dragon blood sizzled against the grass, scorching it black.
Deep gashes marred its powerful chest, its broken scales mingling with the scent of blood.
The left wing had suffered the worst damage—one of its supporting bones had snapped, and a gaping hole, as wide as a barrel, was torn through the wing membrane.
Clearly, the dragon had been mauled by a massive beast.
Rhaegar's shock deepened. He quickly asked, "Did you hunt down a wild dragon?"
The Devourer had an esteemed lineage, its origins rooted in the wild. Its battle prowess was unmatched.
How could it suffer such grievous wounds from hunting a dragon half its size?
The Devourer let out a low growl, sensing its rider's distress.
Summoning its remaining strength, the mighty beast raised its bloodied head.
Its throat convulsed, and then—
With a retching heave, it vomited a foul mass onto the ground.
A silver-black severed dragon tail thudded to the ground, its surface covered in a thick, murky acid.
Aside from that, there were chunks of flesh, both large and small, still covered in scales, along with several fresh human corpses.
"Roar..."
The Devourer let out a low growl, its green, vertical pupils flashing with arrogance as it nudged its rider with its dragon snout.
Rega staggered from the force of the nudge, steadying himself by gripping the dragon's snout.
He could sense it—The Devourer was struggling to suppress its rage, trying to prove its strength.
Lowering his gaze, he looked at the half-digested flesh.
The thick dragon tail was at least five meters long, likely bitten off in one clean snap from a whole tail.
The scattered chunks of flesh were covered in silver-black scales. The largest piece, about the size of a millstone, had a distinct half-moon shape—definitely torn from a dragon's neck.
Unfortunately, there was no sign of the dragon's head or wings.
Rega frowned slightly, suspecting that the Smoke Sea Wild Dragon had managed to escape its predator.
Finally, his eyes fell on the mutilated human corpses.
They were all male, with striking red and purple hair, dressed in the garb of mercenaries from Myr.
"Roar..."
The Devourer, having regained some strength, used its wings to prop itself up, revealing its belly, pierced by more than a dozen steel-tipped spears.
Aside from the fractured bone in its left wing, these spears were the primary cause of its injuries.
"Pirates from the Three Daughters!" Rega's expression darkened.
The Devourer's green pupils shut tightly as it pressed its head against its rider's palm, its heavy breathing gradually stabilizing.
Rega closed his eyes, sensing a vague thought being transmitted into his mind.
A buzz rang in his head as fragmented images surfaced.
Nighttime. Over the Narrow Sea.
The Devourer's emerald eyes gleamed with savage fury as its hind legs clamped around the Smoke Sea Wild Dragon's neck, its jaws tearing into the prey's flesh.
"Hiss—Gah!"
The Smoke Sea Wild Dragon thrashed desperately, its claws ripping into the Devourer's chest as it spewed blasts of dark gray dragonfire.
The struggle was fierce, but thanks to its superior size, the Devourer easily overpowered its prey, sinking its fangs deep into the thick dragon neck.
The Smoke Sea Wild Dragon let out a piercing scream, thrashing violently. Its massive, fanged maw clamped down haphazardly, landing on the Devourer's left wing.
Crack!
A wing bone shattered.
The Devourer roared in pain, ripping away a large chunk of the enemy dragon's flesh.
Boom!
Seizing the moment, the Smoke Sea Wild Dragon unleashed another blast of dark gray dragonfire, striking the Devourer's head before breaking free and fleeing.
The Devourer clenched its pupils shut, shielding its eyes from the flames.
By the time it swallowed the flesh in its mouth, the Smoke Sea Wild Dragon had already fled far into the distance.
Unwilling to let its meal escape, the Devourer—despite its injured wing—gave chase with relentless aggression.
The two dragons, one in pursuit, the other fleeing, remained neck and neck in speed.
They soared from the Gorge toward the Narrow Sea, the Smoke Sea Wild Dragon seemingly trying to escape back to the ruins of Old Valyria, darting toward a scattered cluster of islands.
The Stepstones!
"Hiss—Gah!"
The Devourer roared in fury, surging forward at an explosive speed. Its massive body cast a shadow over the Smoke Sea Wild Dragon as it unleashed a blast of eerie green dragonfire.
In no time, the two dragons were locked in combat once more, crashing onto a desolate island.
The Devourer's pupils glowed an eerie green as it pounced, tearing into its prey with feral intensity.
Its bites were brutal—one after another.
At one point, it seized the flailing dragon tail in its jaws, clamped down, and snapped it in half.
Then, disaster struck.
The unchecked sprays of dragonfire from both beasts struck a warship lurking on the sea's surface.
There were seven or eight warships in total, and they immediately retaliated, launching volleys of scorpion bolts from their decks.
The Devourer reacted swiftly, dodging the bolts aimed at its head and neck. However, its exposed chest and abdomen took the brunt of the attack, pierced by steel-tipped spears.
The Smoke Sea Wild Dragon wasn't spared either—bolts struck its back and wings, drawing an agonized wail.
"Hiss—Gah!"
With its hunt interrupted, the Devourer roared in rage. Spreading its wings, it soared over the warships, raining ghostly green flames upon them like mist and smoke.
The vision blurred.
In the last moments Rega saw, the warships were engulfed in flames while the Smoke Sea Wild Dragon took advantage of the chaos to flee.
The Devourer devoured a few unlucky sailors before returning to the shore, consuming the severed dragon tail left behind by its escaping prey. Then, reluctantly, it began its journey back to Dragonstone.
"Hiss—Gah!"
The Devourer lifted its head and spewed a stream of dragonfire, its green pupils brimming with frustration as it struggled to crawl toward the open grassland.
The failure of the hunt, coupled with its injuries, left it simmering with fury.
Rega snapped back to reality, pressing his forehead as he shook off the lingering traces of the vision.
That was the special effect of Dream Sight, combined with Knight's Oath—an ability triggered unintentionally by the Devourer.
Glancing at the massive black dragon lying on its stomach to recover, Rega sighed in relief.
The Devourer's injuries weren't too severe—mostly surface wounds.
Its rough landing was due 30% to its wounded left wing and 70% to sheer exhaustion.
It had pursued the Smoke Sea Wild Dragon overnight, engaged in two brutal battles along the way, incinerated a fleet of Three Daughters' pirate ships…
And still managed to make a round trip from Dragonstone to the Stepstones before dawn.
Only a wild-born dragon like the Devourer could endure such strain—any other dragon would have collapsed into the sea halfway through.
Rega sighed, dragging a chunk of flesh over. He called out, "Devourer, let me pull out those spears for you."
He tossed the meat toward the dragon, offering it as sustenance.
"Roar..."
The Devourer buried its snout into the meat, dissatisfied, flicking its tail—it wasn't nearly enough to satisfy its hunger.
Rega was helpless. He couldn't move the larger dragon chunks or the severed tail, so the Devourer would have to endure for now.
Walking to the dragon's abdomen, he saw that many of the steel-tipped spears had already been shattered when it crashed onto the cliffs. However, several remained lodged in its flesh, their barbed tips hooked under its scales.
Grasping the end of one spear, Rega took a deep breath and pulled with all his might.
Squish—
Scalding dragon blood splattered as the spear was yanked free, clattering to the ground.
"Hiss—Gah!"
The Devourer roared in pain, its body shuddering violently, kicking up a whirlwind of dust.
Rega's heart ached at the sight. Running his hands over the dragon's black scales, he cursed under his breath, "The Three Daughters… they're asking for death!"
He didn't say he'd go after them, but they had sailed all the way to the Stepstones.
Faced with dragonfire, instead of fleeing, they dared to attack two dragons.
Did they really think the Targaryen dynasty was weak?
"Hiss—Gah!"
The Devourer bared its fangs, its thick tail sweeping aside the filth before biting down on the silver-gray severed tail, chewing greedily.
It needed the magic-infused flesh to heal its wounds.
(End of Chapter)