"Hiss—Gah…"
"Hiss—Gah…"
Several dragon roars echoed as massive dragons burst through the clouds, diving rapidly.
Sunfyre, Seasmoke, Grey Ghost…
Rhaenys, clad in red armor, was the last to emerge, riding Meraxes as she swiftly charged toward the pirate ships.
"Dragonfire!"
Blazing dragon flames of various colors erupted, slicing through the sky.
The Three Daughters' fleet had no time to react before they were engulfed in the raging dragonfire, their screams and wails the only sounds remaining.
Devourer ceased its flames and flew toward Rhaegar's flagship, beating its wings to hover briefly.
"Lord Corlys, surround the Three Daughters' fleet."
Rhaegar lifted his black cloak, leaping from the deck to grasp the dragon's tail.
Devourer lifted the tip of its tail, allowing Rhaegar to land safely on its back.
"Hiss—Gah!"
With a thunderous roar, Devourer surged toward the enemy warships once more.
At that moment, the four dragons took turns bombing the fleet, throwing it into chaos. Flames spread rapidly across the sea.
"Devourer, Dragonfire!"
Rhaegar's gaze remained calm as he gave the order.
"Roar…"
Devourer swooped down, spewing ghostly green flames, its head swaying as it set ship after ship ablaze.
"Hiss—Gah…"
"Hiss—Gah…"
Laenor rode Seasmoke, soaring around the fleet, unleashing bursts of dragonfire.
Aegon followed closely on Sunfyre, coordinating with Grey Ghost to burn the enemy vessels repeatedly.
Meraxes, swift and agile, weaved through the ships, targeting pirate vessels loading scorpion bolts.
"Counterattack! Prepare the scorpions!"
Admiral Sharako Lohar of the Three Daughters bellowed, personally adjusting a scorpion ballista to aim at the light gray dragon.
Whoosh—
A steel-tipped spear launched, narrowly grazing Grey Ghost's tail.
"Hiss—Gah…"
Grey Ghost turned in surprise, its vertical pupils locking onto a specific pirate ship. Its jaws opened, forming a massive fireball.
Boom—
Sharako's eyes widened in terror. He had no time to scream before the three-meter-wide fireball consumed him entirely.
Flames engulfed the deck as the ship's bow dipped downward. Mercenaries shrieked and fled in panic.
"Fire the scorpions, now!"
"The dragons are coming!"
Hundreds of pirate ships echoed with frantic shouts. Mercenaries, who had never fought dragons before, descended into chaos, blindly firing scorpions and arrows in desperation.
The five dragons soared through the skies, proving to be difficult moving targets.
Rhaegar glanced at them coldly. "Futile resistance."
Devourer flapped its wings, spreading its eerie green flames mercilessly—an embodiment of death itself.
A dense volley of steel spears shot through the sky, aimed at the dragons.
Yet, aside from Devourer, who fearlessly charged through, scattering bolts with the sheer force of its impact, the other four dragons remained untouched—no steel-tipped lance even grazed them.
"Oh-ho! More dragonfire!"
Laenor shouted excitedly as Seasmoke swooped repeatedly, attacking with reckless abandon.
"Hiss—Gah…"
Sunfyre and Grey Ghost roared in unison, one golden and one gray, weaving together as they incinerated large sections of the pirate fleet.
The sight struck terror into the hearts of the Three Daughters' sailors, who continued to fire their scorpions and arrows in vain.
The dragons danced through the sky, an elegant yet deadly performance.
Dragonfire rained down, leaving only dried blood in its wake.
…
Hours passed in the blink of an eye.
Crackle…
Thick black smoke billowed over the vast sea, carrying the stench of charred flesh on the wind.
The Three Daughters' fleet was nearly annihilated. The wreckage of ships drifted across the water, and burnt corpses stained the once-blue sea.
"Hiss—Gah…"
Meraxes streaked through the sky, its crimson scales gleaming like blood as it hunted down any surviving mercenaries.
Woo—Woo—
A fleet bearing the banner of the Three-Headed Red Dragon sailed forward, passing through the blood-soaked battlefield that stretched for miles, unchallenged as it approached the port of Lys.
The Sea Snake's expression was grim as he caught the acrid scent of burning flesh, gripping his weapon tightly.
No one had witnessed Aegon the Conqueror's campaign across Essos firsthand—only fragments of history told his tale.
But now, the Targaryen assault on the Three Daughters was unfolding right before their eyes.
A dance of dragons, unstoppable and unmatched.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
A shadow loomed overhead as Devourer circled, exuding an aura of dread.
Rhaegar sat firmly in his saddle, surveying the carnage below before calling out, "Laenor, Aegon, sweep the battlefield."
The dragons had burned the ships, but many mercenaries had leapt into the sea to survive.
There were too many to leave unchecked.
Seasmoke and Sunfyre weren't far off, and Rhaegar's voice reached them clearly.
Laenor and Aegon obeyed, continuing to incinerate the struggling mercenaries in the water.
Rhaegar patted Devourer's obsidian-black scales, steering the dragon beyond the battlefield, straight toward Lys.
Grey Ghost let out a piercing cry, flapping its wings to follow closely.
Rhaenys glanced at her husband aboard the ship and huffed pridefully. "Catch up to him!"
"Hiss—Gah…"
Meraxes roared and suddenly increased speed.
The Sea Snake was a legendary explorer, having set sail nine times in search of discovery.
Rhaenys occasionally worried about him, yet she never traveled alongside him.
Because no matter where Corlys Velaryon's journey ended, she would always be one step ahead.
…
Lys, Governor's Mansion
Bambaro paced nervously in the tower chamber, his expression tense.
A hundred warships had set sail—virtually the entire Lysene navy of hired mercenaries.
He had not dared to send out Mogul, fearing the Targaryens' dragon forces would overwhelm them at sea.
Given the sheer number of ships, he had expected the Iron Throne's fleet to be significantly weakened, perhaps even managing to slay a dragon.
When the exhausted enemy forces finally reached the port, thousands of city guards would hold the line, using the city's scorpions to counter the dragons.
With Mogul, the ultimate weapon, victory was certain.
Bang—
The door burst open from the outside, and several lavishly dressed officials rushed in, panicked.
"How is the battle going?"
Bambaro's eyes lit up as he quickly inquired.
One of the officials, trembling with fear, replied, "My lord, the Targaryen dragons have set our fleet ablaze. They are about to attack the city."
Bambaro's eyelids twitched as he pressed further, "What about the losses of the Iron Throne's army?"
As long as the expected losses had been inflicted, there was still room for maneuver.
"None."
The official's face was ashen as he fearfully reported, "All five dragons—our fleet didn't stand a chance."
During the Age of Conquest, three dragons had been enough to subjugate the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.
Now, five Targaryen dragons loomed over them like divine punishment.
Bambaro's eyes widened in disbelief.
That was an entire fleet of one hundred warships, all equipped with the infamous "Scorpion Ballista," weapons designed to slay dragons.
A single steel-tipped bolt from those could punch a gaping hole through a ten-foot-thick city wall.
A younger official, trembling, hesitantly suggested, "My lord, war will only lead to innocent casualties. Why not negotiate peace?"
Lys did not belong solely to the Governor—it was the city of all the noble and wealthy elites.
Having suffered through one dragon-induced inferno before, no one in Lys wished to relive that nightmare.
Rage surged through Bambaro as he roared, "Get out! Inform the garrison to be on full alert!"
Peace? What a joke!
The Three Daughters and the Iron Throne were sworn enemies, and now they had even tamed the wild dragon, Mogul.
If he surrendered or negotiated peace, he would be the first to die.
—
"Screeeech!"
The Devourer soared over Lys, stirring the scattered clouds with its wings and unleashing a thunderous roar.
That roar, those pitch-black wings, the fearsome dragon looming over the city—so familiar.
Citizens and slaves alike, huddled in their homes, instinctively looked up at the sky, their eyes filled with dread.
A single, unified thought rose in their minds:
"The Black Dragon has returned to Lys!"
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Suddenly, the city's towers erupted with noise as hundreds of Scorpion Ballistas unleashed steel-tipped bolts.
Rhaegar took it all in with a calm gaze. "Dragonfire!"
"ROAR!"
The Devourer's emerald eyes glowed with disdain as it exhaled a torrent of dragonfire.
In an instant, hundreds of steel bolts vanished into the inferno, melting into puddles of molten metal that rained down.
Man and dragon moved as one.
Rhaegar leaned forward, and the Devourer swooped downward, its massive form cutting across the city skyline as it unleashed fire upon the garrison towers.
Boom! Boom!
The dragon's flames obliterated tower after tower.
Stone crumbled, debris crashing into the city streets in a chaotic rain of destruction.
Woooo—
A horn from the harbor signaled the beginning of the Iron Throne's naval assault.
Meraxes and Grey Shadow circled above, providing cover as the fleet attacked the heavily defended port.
At this moment, the Targaryen offensive was unstoppable.
"Screeeech!"
Suddenly, an enraged roar cut through the air.
Rhaegar turned toward the sound, his gaze sharpening.
A massive silver-black dragon erupted from a domed building.
"Mogul!"
Rhaegar murmured, studying the beast closely.
This was their first encounter since the perilous battle over the Smoking Sea.
Mogul, perhaps out of curiosity or loneliness, had followed the Devourer's scent to Dragonstone.
Yet, instead of settling there, it had taken to harassing the dragons already inhabiting the island.
Rhaegar's eyes narrowed. His voice turned cold. "Kill!"
The Devourer's emerald pupils gleamed with savage intent, its maw dripping with dragon saliva.
Then, like a lightning bolt, it dove.
One thought dominated its mind:
Hunt.
"Screeeech!"
Mogul's pupils contracted in determination as it soared upward to meet the attack head-on.
On its back, a red-robed High Priest screamed in terror, "Mogul, stop!"
The dragon had lost control!
Its chosen foes were supposed to be the golden dragon and the silver-hued one from the intelligence reports…
But Mogul defied the command, charging recklessly at the far larger Deathwing, just as it had ignored orders during the aerial assault on the fleet.
Boom!
Green and dark gray dragonfire clashed, swirling into a hellish mist that painted the sky in a kaleidoscope of fiery colors.
The Devourer broke through the flames, lunging without hesitation.
Mogul did not flinch. It countered with a direct collision.
Crunch!
With a sickening thud, the Devourer sent Mogul reeling backward, its massive jaws snapping onto its rival's throat.
Boiling dragon blood splattered.
"ROAR!"
Mogul shrieked in agony, its colossal jaws unable to reach the Devourer's flesh.
It thrashed, its claws desperately raking at the enemy's chest.
Rip!
Gray talons scraped against black scales, sparks flying as the sound of grinding metal echoed.
It had finally breached the thick scales—yet the flesh beneath was barely torn.
Crunch!
The scent of blood ignited the Devourer's predatory instincts.
With a ferocious bite, it tore away a massive chunk of flesh and swallowed it whole.
Mogul's pained screams filled the air.
Seizing the moment, the Devourer snapped its jaws around one of Mogul's wings.
CRACK!
Its fangs punctured the wing's membrane, shattering the delicate wing bones.
The Devourer violently shook its head, shredding the gray mist-like wing into tattered remnants.
A small portion of flesh was swallowed, causing the dragon's wings to twist and deform as if they were about to shatter into pieces.
"Hiss—Gah!"
Mogul let out a painful wail but remained fearless, charging forward once more. Twisting its body, it sank its fangs into its opponent's shoulder and neck.
Its thick, sharp fangs pierced through the scales, and its massive jaws clamped down tightly.
In an instant, scalding dragon blood gushed out, splattering onto both dragons.
"Roar…"
The Devourer was completely unfazed, consumed by its unique hunger-driven frenzy—a perfect blend of instinct and madness.
Ignoring Mogul's relentless bites, it flapped its wings to create a short distance before forcefully kicking its opponent with both feet.
A dull, explosive impact rang out as large patches of scales shattered, mixing with dragon blood as they fell away.
Mogul grunted but remained steadfast, refusing to release its grip.
The Devourer grew even more frenzied, lunging forward to bite the other wing.
Rip—!
Bones snapped one after another, and with a violent tear, the entire dragon wing was ripped in two.
(End of Chapter)