"I failed again. This game is way too hard to beat with the Valyrians. I always lose because I mess things up myself."
Aegon's eyes were bloodshot as he stared at his phone screen, where a bright red box had popped up.
[Game over!]
He was playing a multiplayer dungeon game called [Destined Godblood].
As the name suggests, [Destined Godblood] requires players to raise and continue their own house. Survive for a thousand years in the world, and you win. The game's description even claimed that players would ascend to godhood upon completing the game, though Aegon always took that as a joke from the developers.
While the game supported multiplayer, Aegon had always treated it like a single-player campaign—because he was dead set on clearing it!
Being a diehard fan of Game of Thrones, and sharing the same name as a historical figure from its world, Aegon always chose to play as the Valyrians from A Song of Ice and Fire.
Among the "Godblood" players, the Valyrians were considered the most difficult house to clear.
That was because Valyrian Dragonlords came with a unique trait: [True Dragon Blood].
[True Dragon Blood: Charisma +2, Fire Resistance increased to 80%, Spirit Resistance -50%; 50% chance to tame a magical dragon and become a Dragon Knight.]
The Valyrians could ride terrifying dragons and were practically a dominant force in the world of ice and fire.
But their greatest strength was also their downfall.
The problem lay in Spirit Resistance. Simply put, the Dragonlords of Valyria had extreme personalities and radical thinking. It reminded Aegon of the Uchiha clan from an anime he'd watched—each member a potential case of dissociative identity disorder.
People said that whenever a Valyrian Dragonlord was born, the gods would flip a coin to decide if they'd be great... or mad.
Over the past few days, as Aegon had been grinding, his house had been filled with all kinds of bizarre characters—violent maniacs, cowards, nerds, religious zealots, drunks, lunatics, scumbags...
But occasionally, there would be a few rare standouts: wise men, heroes, sages, knights, great leaders, and master politicians.
Some family members had all the good traits. Others? Every bad one imaginable.
Whenever an entire generation was full of negative traits, the house would teeter on the brink of extinction. Aegon had restarted the game hundreds of times, but none of his runs had lasted more than a hundred years.
"I'm not giving up. One more try."
"This time, I'm going to make it work!"
Gritting his teeth, Aegon tapped on [Write the Destiny of the House].
[Honored high-dimensional player, welcome to the divine multiverse. Please select the planet where your clan will reside.]
Aegon swiftly tapped the search box, typed in "A Song of Ice and Fire," and confirmed his choice.
[You will be born at a random point in this planet's timeline, where you will either found a family among your people or join an existing one. From there, you'll determine the future of your house. Starting with the second generation, you will become the family's guardian, watching over their growth and guiding them through dreams. However, this dream-guiding ability comes with limitations.]
The game camera zoomed in rapidly from the star-filled cosmos until it focused on a vibrant blue planet. Ethereal silhouettes of various species floated into view. With just a glance, Aegon saw well over a thousand different races.
[Your race?]
"First Men"
"Andals"
"Rhoynar"
"Ironborn"
"Valyrians"
"YiTish"
...
"Valyrians." Aegon checked the box without hesitation.
[The race you've selected resides on the Valyrian Peninsula on the continent of Essos. Known for their silver-gold hair and purple eyes, these features are unique among the peoples of the world. Based on your selected race, you now have a chance to roll for your True Dragon Blood level.]
A six-sided die appeared on the screen.
Each face of the die was marked with a different bloodline tier: None, Mixed Blood, Dragonblood, Dragonseed, Dragonborn, Dragonlord.
Aegon tapped the die.
It spun for a few seconds before settling on "Dragonborn."
[True Dragon Blood - Dragonborn: All dragon blood effects increased by 50%.]
"Not bad. It's not Dragonlord-level with a full 100% bonus, but taming a magical dragon shouldn't be a problem. No need to reset the account. I'll stick with this one." Aegon gave a slight nod.
The noblest Valyrians were said to possess an extraordinary—some would say inhuman—beauty. You are one of them.
[Your True Dragon Blood far surpasses that of the Valyrian commoners. Please select one of the forty Dragonlord families to serve as the source of your bloodline:]
[House Valerys]
[House Targaryen]
[House Edderion]
[House Ylanis]
[House Aurion]
[House Valentine]
...
"House Targaryen." Aegon chose Targaryen without a second thought. With a name like his, how could he choose anything else?
Born of blood and fire, nourished through winter and spring—congratulations, you've joined House Targaryen!
[Talent Draw: Please choose one of the following talents as your gift.]
[E-Rank – Safe Landing: You will be born safely.]
[E-Rank – Good Swimming: You won't drown.]
[D-Rank – Bioengineered: You have a strong immune system.]
[S-Rank – Alien Chip: I've made it this far on my own!]
[E-Rank – Low Blood Pressure: Your family won't suffer from heart disease.]
[C-Rank – Fertile: You or your partner are likely to conceive twins, or even triplets.]
[D-Rank – Alluring: You possess an astonishing beauty that some consider unnatural.]
Aegon's eyes locked onto one talent immediately—it was S-Rank! He hadn't expected to get such a god-tier start, randomly landing on a top-tier talent. Excited, he quickly opened the detailed description for "Alien Chip."
[Chip Functions: 1. You can view the attributes of characters or items you explore; 2. You can consume energy (destiny) to deduce skills and knowledge.]
Two abilities powerful enough to alter fate itself. With the ability to view character stat panels, he could choose the most capable family member to lead when it came time to pass down the mantle. And the deduction function? That was the ultimate cheat for climbing the tech tree.
"I'm going with the Alien Chip!"
[Before your arrival, you were lucky enough to be chosen by the remnants of a pioneer civilization's legacy, receiving a quantum chip capable of rewriting the fundamental code of the material world.]
Zzzzt~ Hummm—
The moment Aegon confirmed his talent, his phone began to emit a strange noise and heat up. The game interface glitched, the screen blooming with static. Blue code filled with unknown symbols cascaded down like a waterfall from the top of the display.
[Warning! Warning!]
[The game program has been invaded by unknown code. Super-dimensional firewall interception failed!]
[The space-time gateway has been breached!]
[Program encryption defenses compromised!]
[Initiating Destiny Timeline Correction Program—10, 3, 2, 1... Restoration complete. Functions back online.]
[Loading backup data...]
Aegon frowned. Had the game just been hacked? Should he keep playing? Was there a chance his bank info might get stolen?
While he hesitated, the game interface returned to normal, and a selection window popped up.
[What is your profession?]
[Unsullied]
[Mime]
[Disabled Veteran]
[Street Vagrant]
[Slave]
[Poacher]
[Merchant]
Aegon gave a soft "Huh?" Why were all the options garbage this time? He'd restarted over a hundred times and had never seen such a lousy starting lineup. It felt like the game was trying to get him to quit.
There was even a slave option—how could anyone build a family with that? You'd be lucky just to survive. And the Unsullied? That was a trap. In Game of Thrones, the Unsullied were eunuch slave soldiers. Picking that would be instant game over—no legacy, no family, no future.
Could it be related to the S-Rank talent? Had he burned up all his luck on that pull? Aegon paused, thinking it through.
You don't want me to play? I'll play anyway.
Trying to scare me off? Not happening!
Out of the seven options, at least "Merchant" wasn't terrible.
"Merchant. Lock it in."
[Customization complete. Transmigration countdown: 3, 2, 1.]
BOOM—
A loud explosion rang out as Aegon's phone suddenly blew apart.
A deep rift in space ripped open, flashing with blue light. Aegon's soul was swept up and pulled into the void, vanishing without a trace...
...
...
...
The Valyrians were originally a small civilization of mostly pastoral people.
That changed when they discovered dragons and their nests in the volcanic ring known as the Fourteen Flames on the Valyrian Peninsula. They learned to raise and tame dragons, and soon turned them into weapons of war—terrifying and destructive.
With the power of dragons, the Valyrians expanded their reach and established the Valyrian Freehold, with Valyria itself as the heart of their dominion.
During this era, the Freehold reached the peak of its power, stretching across most of the Essos continent west of the Bone Mountains. Countless cities were linked by the wide and imposing Valyrian roads.
Valyria, the capital of this vast dragon empire, was a city of towering black stone structures.
These towers were vast geometric monoliths—cold, imposing, and visually overwhelming. Their rooftops were intricately carved into the shapes of dragons, and massive dragons regularly soared above the city.
Looking down from a dragon's vantage point, the streets below bustled with life.
People of all races and in varied attire wove through the crowds.
Especially in the commercial heart—Meraxes Square—where throngs of people jostled shoulder to shoulder.
When the shadow of a dragon passed over the square, no one panicked. It was clear the people were long used to the sight of dragons stretching over a hundred meters in length.
Beside the square stood a three-story spire-roofed tower, home to the merchant guild "Dragon's Treasure."
Dragon's Treasure was a mid-sized guild specializing in the slave trade. They operated between the Freehold and the continent of Essos, transporting both goods and slaves, with a fleet of over a dozen large trading ships.
The guild's owner was the bastard son of a Valyrian Dragonlord, which gave the guild certain connections within the ruling class of the Freehold.
But recently, disaster struck—one of Dragon's Treasure's ships was attacked by a sea monster and sank, leaving no survivors. The guild's finances were shattered, and now it stood on the brink of collapse.
In the meeting room of the stone tower, a massive oak table stood at the center, with four chief stewards positioned on either side.
At the head of the table sat a silver-haired man—Aegon, the master of the merchant guild.
He had both hands placed on the table, palms pressed together, his forehead resting against them as if in a meditative doze.
Today, the stewards of the guild had gathered for two purposes: to discuss the next shipment bound for the continent of Essos, and to find a way to replenish the guild's working capital.
Sunlight slipped quietly through the gaps in the window, casting a bright white beam onto the silver-haired man. Under the light, his hair glowed with a soft metallic sheen, gleaming like strands of silver wire.
Aegon slowly raised his head, revealing eyes like polished amethysts.
A few locks of hair fell across his forehead, and the contours of his face were as sharply defined as if sculpted by a master artisan—his jawline strong and resolute, his complexion pale as snow.
He held back the excitement rising in his chest.
What had looked like sleep was actually him receiving the game's customized memories. In a matter of seconds, Aegon had fully absorbed the common knowledge of this world—an astonishing feat.
He never imagined that playing a game would actually lead to transmigration, but the system panel before his eyes confirmed the truth: he had entered the world of the game Destined Godblood.
In this new life, he was the bastard son of Aenar, the patriarch of House Targaryen—and the eldest son of the family.
However, after the birth of Aenar's legitimate son, Gaemon, and due to inheritance disputes and Gaemon's mother's open dislike of Aegon, Aenar had sent him away early in life to be raised by a wealthy merchant.
That merchant, Aegon's adoptive father, had recently died of illness. Now, as his legal heir, Aegon had just inherited the Dragon's Treasure merchant guild.
After organizing the background memories in his mind, Aegon pulled up his game attributes.
[Name: Aegon
Nation: Valyrian Freehold
House: Targaryen – Bastard
Politics: 80; Strategy: 80; Military Strategy: 80; Mental Strength: 80; Vitality: 80
Talents: S-Class – Alien Chip; True Dragonblood – Dragonborn
Skills: Valyrian Common – Proficient; Business – Basic; Chemistry – Basic; Politics – Basic; Chinese – Proficient; Marx…
Destiny Points: 0
Items: None]
[Destiny Points can be used for draws. Every 100 Destiny Points grants one draw; a ten-draw guarantees at least a green-quality item.]
He recalled the game's final Easter egg—completing it allowed players to ascend and become gods. In this world, maybe that wasn't just fiction.
The possibility made Aegon take this transmigration very seriously.
He rose to his feet and straightened his back, then reached into his robes and drew out a Valyrian steel ring coiled with a dragon design, sliding it onto his thumb.
The four chief stewards watched the young man solemnly. It was clear the meeting was about to begin.
All four stewards were in their forties—middle-aged men—yet none showed the slightest impatience with Aegon's long silence. This was because the Valyrian Freehold enforced a three-tiered slave-class system.
The top tier was [Citizen], who had voting rights, the right to be elected, and the right to conduct business.
The second tier was [Commoner], who lacked political rights but retained personal freedom.
The third tier was [Slave], who had no personal freedom whatsoever.
All four stewards were second-tier commoners. Only Aegon, as a citizen and the master of the merchant guild, held the rights that allowed Dragon's Treasure to operate within the Freehold.
Aegon lowered his gaze to the oak table—a symbol of authority within the guild.
His eyes followed his left hand as he slowly moved it across the table, feeling the grain of the polished wood beneath his fingertips—smooth, detailed, and unmistakably real.
That tangible sensation was proof enough: this world was no illusion.
Then, turning his head, he followed the movement of his right hand and laid it on the tabletop as well, adopting a commanding posture—just as the original owner had in the inherited memories.
Aegon lifted his head, and from beneath the shadows, his violet eyes gleamed with unhidden ambition.
Suddenly, he rapped his knuckles twice against the oak table.
Thud! Thud!