Boom!
Bronze dragon flames rained down, striking the enormous black shadow precisely.
"Hiss!"
A terrifying dragon with a body as black as carbon emerged from the flames.
Its pair of green, vertical pupils stared fiercely at the dragon that had attacked it.
"Hiss—"
Vormithor was even more powerful and looked down at the dragon with contempt.
Aemon saw the black dragon clearly and exclaimed, "Cannibal!"
It is the largest and oldest wild dragon on Dragonstone.
It is known for stealing dragon eggs and preying on young dragons. It is called "Cannibal."
"What a vicious dragon."
Aemon looked at it carefully. It had scales as black as carbon, green vertical pupils, a thorn-like barb all over its back, and wide, large wings.
Its huge dragon mouth exposed black fangs, and drops of smelly saliva slipped down. At night, the saliva corroded large areas of vegetation, turning them into a withered, drooling wasteland.
"Roar!"
Cannibal roared into the sky, ignoring the two giant dragons above, and pounced on the mud dragon trying to escape.
Prey is its goal.
"Stop it!"
Aemon raised his murderous intent toward the evil dragon without hesitation.
Boom!
Vormithor swooped down, and the dragon's mouth continued to spit copper-bright flames like a volcanic eruption.
Silverwing hesitated for a moment before following his partner.
Meanwhile, the sheep thief fell to the ground. His skinny body was covered with scars, and he whimpered and wailed.
He was not only ugly, but his roar was also unpleasant.
None of the giant dragons present cared about him; they were all alert to the imminent melee.
Boom!
Cannibal stopped halfway, raised his head, and spewed dark green dragon flames.
The two sets of flames collided, bursting into brilliant flames.
The copper-bright flames were like boiling water, and the dark green flames were like mist.
They were compatible and killed each other. A layer of pungent white smoke covered the area for several miles, like clouds floating up Dragon Mountain.
"Attack, Vormithor!"
Aemon shook his body and gritted his teeth to give the order.
Cannibal turned his dragon head to the side as if he had heard the human shout and stared at the sky with his green, vertical pupils.
"Hiss—"
Vormithor suddenly rushed out and swooped down with a pair of sharp claws, stepping on the dark dragon's head.
Sizzle!
Cannibal could not dodge in time. A large number of scales on his head were torn, and hot dragon blood flowed.
His three pairs of pale horns were already hideous, but they looked even more evil covered in blood.
"Hiss!" Silverwing followed closely behind, floating past and spewing a vortex of dragon flames.
Cannibal covered his wings in front of him, and the dark wing membrane was like a black umbrella, blocking the powerful long-range attack.
"Huh?"
Aemon glanced back in surprise. "Such a thick wing membrane! It can even block dragon flames."
With this one glance, the size difference between the two dragons was apparent.
Cannibal is worthy of being called the largest and oldest wild dragon.
Its body is estimated to be more than 70 meters long, and it is strong and powerful, several times larger than Silverwing.
"It's really an old dragon!"
Aemon's face changed slightly.
A dragon's body continues to grow with age, and its body length shows its age.
Vhagar is a typical example.
By the time it's 160 years old, its skin is loose, its temples are sparse, and its jaw and neck are drooping.
The same is true for Vormithor.
Vormithor is over 80 years old and grows much faster than ordinary dragons, giving it the appearance of a hundred-year-old dragon.
At a glance, people can tell that this dragon has experienced many years.
As for Cannibal in front of him...
Those deep green, vertical pupils are definitely not those of an ordinary dragon.
It's at least close to a hundred years old.
"Roar!"
After being attacked one after another, the glutton became furious and flapped his black wings to chase after them.
"Don't give it a chance to get close!"
Aemon made a prompt decision and drove the dragon to Dragon Mountain.
Boom!
Like a black comet, Cannibal sped toward them, raising its head to spit dark green dragon flames.
"Dodge!"
Aemon's pupils shrank slightly as he dodged sideways.
Vormithor turned around, avoiding the flames by brushing against one of the dragon's wings.
"Hiss!"
Silverwing was not so lucky. He was hit in the back by the dark green dragon flames, lost his balance, and screamed.
Cannibal was hungry and rushed toward the silver-gray dragon.
Boom!
The two dragons collided — one with a claw and the other with a bite — and started fighting without giving in.
Silverwing had a gentle personality, but he was fierce in battle and suppressed his opponent for a while.
Crack!
Silverwing bit Cannibal's shoulder blade, shattering the black scales inch by inch and causing dragon blood to gush out.
"Hiss!"
Cannibal roared and opened his mouth to bite Silverwing's neck as if he wanted to kill him.
"Attack, Vormithor!"
Aemon shouted again.
Vormithor raised his head and roared. His body smashed down like a cannonball and crashed directly into Cannibal.
He was a far better opponent than the one who hid in Dragonstone and only attacked dragon eggs and young dragons.
This dragon undoubtedly has more combat experience and is more aware of the weaknesses of its own kind.
Swish!
A pair of sharp claws locked onto the neck and tore into the chest, and the full weight of his body pressed down on his opponent.
Cannibal wailed and let go of Silverwing.
"Dragon Flame!"
Aemon was lying on the dragon's back and seized the opportunity immediately.
"Hiss—"
Vormithor gathered a mouthful of bright copper dragon flame and poured it onto the dark dragon's head like a flood. The rolling copper water splashed and dripped all over the sky.
Cannibal's green, vertical pupils showed horror as he was swallowed by the dragon flame in an instant.
"Roar!"
The smell of burnt white smoke filled the air, and the dark dragon fell from the sky. The bronze dragon and the silver-gray dragon emerged from the smoke, flying and circling over Dragon Mountain like a pair of winged birds.
The next second—
The dark dragon fell to the ground with a bang, raising dust and smoke everywhere.
"Is it dead?"
Aemon leaned over to observe, clenching the handle so hard that his knuckles turned white.
This old dragon, which had devoured its own kind, was too cruel. If he stayed on Dragonstone, it would be a disaster sooner or later.
...
Stone Drum Tower.
Rhaenyra was stunned, watching the fierce dragon fight that happened in an instant.
Before she could react, the dark dragon fell.
"Hiss!"
Syrax was extremely agitated. It pushed the driver with its dragon head and lowered its body to fight.
For some reason, the sight of the two giant dragons flying in the sky made her dragon blood boil.
It seemed to be a call from within.
"The black dragon is seriously injured."
Rhaenyra was stunned for a moment and hugged the dragon's head pushing her.
Syrax didn't listen. He opened his mouth, grabbed the driver's skirt, and dragged him to her body.
Rhaenyra couldn't stop him; her expression was neither funny nor sad.
Without the dragon's help, she quickly stepped onto the saddle and gave the order: "Fly, Syrax!"
"Hiss!"
Syrax neighed excitedly and flapped his wide, fleshy wings vigorously.
The same scene played out in the nest under Dragon Mountain.
"Hiss!"
"Hiss!"
A heavy stone door embedded in the mountain produced two sharp cries.
"Elder, the young dragons are out of control!"
A young dragon keeper ran out from behind the stone door; his silver crew cut was burnt black.
The old dragon keeper looked solemn and asked, "Are the chains secure?"
There had never been a riot by young dragons before.
As soon as he finished speaking.
Boom! Boom!
Two crisp cracking sounds were heard in succession, and flames shot up from behind the stone door.
"Get out of the way!"
The old dragon keeper pulled his assistant to the ground in horror.
"Hiss!"
"Hiss!"
The heavy stone door broke instantly, and two sub-adult dragons, each over ten meters long, spewed flames and rushed out of the intricate underground nest.
One had golden scales all over its body and light pink wing membranes. Its appearance was extraordinary.
When it flew into the sun, its golden scales shone brilliantly.
The other dragon had cobalt blue scales and an extended lower jaw the color of copper foil. Its body was well-proportioned and stylish, and its wingspan was wider than that of an ordinary dragon. It spewed blue flames and burned the dragon keeper guarding it.
The two sub-adult dragons looked up, stared at the two dragons flying in the sky, and screamed with excitement.
They flew up into the sky together and chased after them.
...
"Hiss—"
Vormithor's pupils were vertical as he circled Dragon Mountain, seemingly in an inexplicable state.
Silverwing flew by his side like a dancing bird.
Soon, Syrax flew from afar and joined them in their dance in the sky.
"What's going on?"
Aemon was stunned.
Buzz!
A buzzing sound filled his mind, making him feel dizzy and sleepy.
In the haze, a picture emerged.
Fourteen fire peaks formed a volcanic group in a row, and sulfur-smelling smoke slowly rose.
"Hiss!"
A shrill roar sounded, and the ground collapsed into a bloody dragon.
A large black-and-red dragon circled in the air, looking down at the dragon with cold, vertical pupils. The larger dragon's throat accumulated dragon flames as dark as night.
It seemed to be executing something.
Boom!
The dark dragon flames fell and engulfed the head of the injured dragon.
The scene changed, and a group of dragons flew out from everywhere and surrounded the headless dragon.
"Hiss!"
A khaki dragon tore open its scale-covered belly and pulled out a broken hind limb covered in scales.
More dragons followed suit, pulling out more broken limbs covered in scales.
A black and red dragon slowly circled, watching the dragons share the food.
At the end of the scene, the dragons roared, and the black and red dragon appeared as the leader.
"Dragon King!"
Aemon looked dazed, and Valyrian words came out of his mouth.
Every tribe has black sheep who devour their own kind.
There are also dragons.
These special individuals are tentatively called "dragon eaters."
They don't eat the bodies of their victims to vent their anger after winning a battle.
Rather, they are simply bloodthirsty and quietly hunt their own kind to fill their stomachs. Dragon eaters are usually larger and stronger than ordinary dragons.
The dragon that can kill a dragon eater gains the respect of the dragon group.
A group of dragons dancing is also a spectacular ancient celebration ceremony.
"Hiss!"
"Hiss!"
Two sub-adult dragons, golden and cobalt blue, flew over, intertwining as they joined the circling, dancing group.
Their positions were clearly defined.
Vormithor circled the top of Dragon Mountain in the sky.
Silverwing and Syrax circled the halfway point of Dragon Mountain, one above and one below.
The two new sub-adult dragons could only stay at the foot of the mountain.
Aemon suddenly woke up and smiled. "You've made quite a scene, Vormithor."
"Roar!"
Vormithor's vertical pupils revealed a fierce light as he stared at the smoke and dust below.
Aemon felt something in his heart and became cautious again.
Dragon-eating species are always cunning and not so easy to kill.
"Hiss!"
Suddenly, a dragon roared from below.
The man and the dragon focused their attention on them and stared intently.
Plop!
A mud dragon with bumps all over its ugly body crawled out, wailing as if to gain sympathy.
Obviously, it was ignored again.
The smoke and dust gradually dissipated.
A dragon corpse, black as coal, fell to the ground, creating a deep pit with its huge body.
Half of its head was broken and mixed with blood, buried in the dust. The dragon's green, vertical pupils stared unwillingly at the sky.
It was as if it had fallen into hell and still remembered its hatred.
"Huh, it's really dead!"
Aemon stood up excitedly; it was as if a big stone had fallen from his heart.
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