The dragons instantly boiled over, and their roars spread across a sea area of dozens of miles.
"Hiss!"
Silver Wing's vertical pupils flashed as he glided not far from the ground and took the lead in showing interest in the broken dragon corpse.
Many of its dragon eggs had been stolen by the other party.
Now, it's time for revenge.
"Hiss!"
The other dragons became increasingly agitated, looking up at the bronze dragon periodically, as if waiting for the king's orders.
"It's up to you, Vermithor"
Aemon was proud of him, rubbing his palm against the bronze scales.
Vermithor glanced at the vertical pupils and slowly opened his huge dragon mouth.
"Dragon Flame!" Aemon shouted.
"Hiss—"
Vermithor raised his head and roared. The bronze dragon flame roared out, breaking through the thick clouds.
The next moment, the dragons seemed to have received a signal and acted in an instant.
Silver Wing moved the fastest, landing lightly on the ground and opening his mouth to tear open the belly of the dragon corpse.
"Hiss!"
The sheep thief, having forgotten his pain, propped himself up with his brown wings and pounced on the dragon corpse to feast.
He was the most decisive, tearing off a piece of flesh and swallowing it.
The two sub-adult dragons joined the feast as well, eating unceremoniously.
The celebration after killing the dragon-eating species must be the saddest meal.
"Hiss!"
Syrax flew low on the periphery, turning around anxiously.
Since the driver was still on his back, Syrax didn't dare go down to fight for it.
"Put me down, Syrax."
Rhaenyra looked dazed.
She didn't know what had happened, but she knew she couldn't stop her dragon.
When Syrax landed, the driver climbed down and squeezed out the subadult dragon, who was also golden.
Grunt...
At the foot of Dragon Mountain.
The two sub-adult dragons they had raised had escaped, and the dragon breeders immediately panicked and went out in full force to look for clues.
As soon as they arrived, they saw a group of dragons performing an ancient ceremony.
Plop! Plop!
Dozens of dragon handlers knelt down, their faces flushed with excitement and their eyes almost fanatical.
As professionals who accompany dragons all year round, they are well aware of the existence of cannibal.
They can kill cannibals and cause the dragons to celebrate.
"The glory of ancient Valyria has reappeared!"
An old dragon handler said tremblingly, his pupils shaking.
After reading countless ancient books about the dragon king of ancient Valyria, only a few similar ancient rituals were recorded.
Most of the specific reasons and detailed years are unknown.
Witnessing this scene with my own eyes today is no less shocking than a spiritual cleansing.
Soon, the dragon corpse was gone.
"Hiss!"
Silver Wing licked the dragon's corpse and retreated a distance.
Seeing this, the other dragons reluctantly gave up their positions.
The sheep thief's pupils dilated, and he finally bit off a piece of scaly flesh. He curled up at the end of the dragon group.
In the air.
Aemon saw everything and whispered, "It's our turn, Vermithor."
The last part of the ceremony would be performed by the dragon under his crotch.
"Roar!"
Vermithor circled Dragon Mountain. A pair of wide, brown dragon wings blew away the stench, restoring the world to a clean state.
Then, it folded its wings and landed.
Under Aemon's gaze, the dragon sniffed the broken corpse and revealed sharp fangs in its dragon mouth.
Snap!
Vermithor's eyes flashed fiercely as he locked onto the intact neck of the dragon-eating species. It bit off the scales bit by bit and lifted up the huge corpse.
Aemon sat astride the saddle and stared at it intently.
"Hiss—"
Suddenly, Vermithor exerted force, and the dragon's head rose unstoppably, accompanied by the harsh sound of bones breaking.
Puff!
Cannibal's neck was cut off in the middle, and half of its broken black dragon head was uprooted and thrown high into the sky.
The clouds and mist dissipated, and the sun shone.
Boiling blood gushed out of the broken neck like a dam bursting in an instant.
It covered the man and the dragon that had killed it.
Fearless, Vermithor let the blood of the dragon-eating species spill onto his chest.
"Oh~"
Aemon looked up and saw the dazzling sun, so he raised his right arm to shield his eyes.
When he saw it,
He couldn't avoid it. The dragon's blood poured down like a bucket, soaking his head and body.
Suddenly, white smoke emerged.
"Aemon!"
Rhaenyra exclaimed in shock.
Dragon blood is extremely hot, and mortals will burn if they touch it.
When she thought of this, she felt cold all over.
The dragon breeders at the foot of Dragon Mountain also witnessed the scene.
"Prince..."
The old dragon breeder's heart stopped. His face turned as pale as paper, and his hair stood on end.
Usually, dragon breeders who come into contact with dragon blood can only commit suicide with the obsidian dagger they carry.
Give yourself a quick death!
"Hiss..."
With a roar, Vermithor discarded the dark dragon's head and spewed bright copper dragon flames to start the cremation process.
"Cough, cough..."
As soon as the roar subsided, a rough cough emanated from the dragon's back.
Everyone present was suddenly shocked.
"Hiss! It's like taking a boiling bath!"
Aemon reached out to wipe the dragon blood off his face and took a deep breath of cold air.
It's so hot!
A glance from the corner of his eye revealed that his silver hair was slightly curled due to fever.
"Vermithor, you are a bastard!"
Aemon gnashed his teeth, his face red and shiny.
He was burned.
He hurriedly wiped off the dragon blood, and his long, silver-gold hair clumped together in tangles.
He was a mess, but no one could see that clearly.
"Aemon!"
Rhaenyra covered her mouth, speechless with shock.
The dragon keepers trembled all over as if they had witnessed a miracle. "Aemon the Dragon Slayer!" Someone shouted at the top of his lungs. Only dragon slayers can be baptized by dragon blood and forge an indestructible body. The shout reached everyone's ears.
Even the old dragon keepers, accustomed to seeing big storms, opened their mouths and said tremblingly, "Dragon slayer! The dragon slayer who controls the dragon!"
"Aemon the Dragon Slayer!"
"A warrior descends to Earth: Aemon Targaryen..."
..."
Aemon had wiped halfway when he heard noisy shouting. His blood-stained eyebrows knitted up. "What the hell are you shouting about?"
He didn't speak any louder.
The dragon's back was too high; he couldn't hear clearly.
"Aemon, are you okay!?"
Rhaenyra hurried over and shouted beside the bronze dragon.
Aemon replied speechlessly: "What do you think?"
Fortunately, he has pure blood and is twice as fit as an ordinary person.
"Try another one. It's cooked to medium rare."
Rhaenyra's expression was stunned as she stared at the bloody boy on the dragon's back with her beautiful eyes.
His face was still handsome, but his long, blood-stained hair was messy.
He's not disfigured!
Aemon lowered his head and stared at her.
The four looked at each other and could see each other's thoughts.
"Hmph!"
Aemon rolled his eyes, smiling.
Although being poor and bulging did not limit his stupidity, he was kindhearted.
At this time, only a black dragon skeleton remained in the pit.
"Hiss!"
Silver Wing took off again, and the other dragons turned around and flew away.
However, as they left, they all roared in respect to the bronze dragon.
Vermithor raised his head and accepted it peacefully.
Aemon patted his face, knowing it was time to say goodbye.
"Be alert, and don't lose face."
...
Tidehead Island.
"Roar..."
An old dragon with a dark green body crouched on the ground. Its sparsely pointed head drooped as it enjoyed the driver's caress.
"It's time to eat, Vhagar."
Laena, wearing a white lace dress, gently hugged the dragon's chin.
Vhagar's eyes were drooping, and his huge body was motionless. He only responded with a nod of his chin.
The movement was very light and gentle.
Boom!
Suddenly, a gust of wind swept past.
Vhagar raised his head slightly and his vertical pupils instantly became indifferent, exuding faint hostility.
"Be quiet, Vhagar!"
Laena staggered after being pushed and hurriedly comforted the sensitive old dragon.
Vhagar glanced at her. His cracked dragon mouth opened and closed. Finally, he relaxed his body and fell down with a bang.
She was inexplicably extremely restless.
It seemed that something big had happened and she had missed it.
"Just like that. Don't be angry."
Laena brushed off the dust and stroked the old dragon's sunken eye sockets with both hands.
Then, she looked up into the distance.
I saw two giant dragons, one bronze and one silver-gray, flying side by side across Blackwater Bay and out of the Throat.
"Aemon?"
Laena's eyes widened in surprise, and she whispered softly. "He awakened the dragon Silver Wing."
She realized what had happened in an instant because she was smart.
"It's incredible."
Laena bit her lower lip and felt her heart surge.
She liked dragons, especially big, fierce adult ones.
So she chose Vhagar.
Unexpectedly, someone was more cunning than she was.
He used the unique partnership between Vermithor and Silver Wing to wake Silver Wing up and fly with him.
"So you are here, Laena."
A male voice pretending to be surprised suddenly came from behind.
The son of a former Braavos Sea King was working hard at that moment.
Laena didn't even look back, and the blush on her face faded quickly.
"Roar..."
Vhagar turned his head and roared. The hot wind blew and he came out to drive away the driver.
"I'll come next time."
The other party was sweating profusely. He didn't want the flowers in his hand and ran away.
The image of the straw bag was simply a true performance.
"Roar!"
Vhagar snorted heavily and looked sideways at the driver.
"I'm fine, Vhagar."
Laena's voice was soft and magnetic. He tilted his head and gently leaned against the dragon's head.
Their heads touched, and they felt each other's warmth.
Just then, however, the man and the dragon were interrupted.
An ugly, brown-scaled mud dragon quietly flew through the clouds, sniffing and following the scent.
It seemed to be fighting for new territory.
...
Half a month later:
Runestone City, Valley.
In an empty room, a tall figure with short, silver-gold hair lay on a table, writing furiously.
With a piece of parchment and a feather pen, he was creating a great plan.
"The first batch of materials provided by the card has arrived. It's time to officially start,"
Aemon muttered in a low voice.
Half a month later, His Royal Highness changed his hairstyle to a more fashionable one.
There is no way!
Dragon blood is sticky and thick; it can't be rubbed off, even if it sticks to hair.
His Royal Highness could only endure the pain and cut his hair short, which slightly improved his appearance.
"Rhaenyra is leaving for a tour, and I should formulate my first five-year plan."
Aemon's eyes were bright, and he didn't stop writing.
People must have a clear goal in life.
Referring to a series of recent and long-term events, muddling through is no longer an option.
The feather pen moved slightly, leaving handwriting on the parchment.
The development plan of the river valley.
As the prince's territory, the importance of the river valley is obvious.
It is not an exaggeration to say that it is essential for survival.
The palace has not been built yet, and the city is nowhere in sight.
We must tighten the screws.
Second, the marriage candidate.
---------------
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