Chapter 4: The Dragon Plan Begins
Moonlight bathed the camp, casting long shadows across the sand, the air cool and sharp with the scent of smoke and roasted meat. Daenerys' dragons chirped, their tiny jaws snapping at scraps, their scales glinting like jewels. Adam leaned against a tent, his HUD glowing: [SYSTEM: LEVEL 5, ROACH'S SOUL UNLOCKED.] He whistled, and a horse trotted over, its eyes glowing faintly with Roach's essence—loyal, summonable, and slowly healing, its wounds closing before his eyes. "Loyal and healin'? You're my kind of ride," Adam said, patting its flank, the leather warm under his hand. His mind was on Drogon, the black dragon whose scales gleamed like obsidian, its eyes fierce even as a hatchling. Roach-ified dragon? That's my ticket to napping through battles.
[SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT: Temporary boosts have expired. All stats and levels have been reset to their original values level 1 .]
[ROACH'S SOUL will still be in storage ]
He approached Daenerys, who sat by a fire, her silver hair braided tightly, her violet eyes reflecting the flames. "Dany, imagine Drogon, but loyal like a dog and healing like a potion. Interested?" he asked, his voice playful but earnest. She frowned, her hand resting on Drogon's head, his tiny claws digging into her arm. "My dragons are not pets," she said, her voice sharp, protective. Adam grinned, undeterred, leaning closer, the firelight dancing on his face. "Not pets—partners. I've got a trick to make him unstoppable." Her eyes softened, intrigued, a spark of curiosity breaking through her caution. "Show me," she said, her voice softer now. [SYSTEM: QUEST: SECURE DAENERYS' TRUST.] Adam tossed her a spiced fig, its sweet aroma filling the air, its skin sticky in her fingers. "Deal, but only if you smile first." Her laugh was rare, like a melody in the desert silence, and he felt a spark in his chest, warm and dangerous. Okay, maybe I'm falling for her, he thought, his grin widening.
Viserys stormed over, his crown askew, his voice shrill as he whined about respect, his hands flapping like an angry bird. Adam sighed, his prank itch flaring. He cast Axii, the sign's energy pulsing, warm and electric. Viserys froze, then saluted a nearby camel, its hump swaying as it chewed cud. "Your Majesty," he muttered, his voice dazed. The camp erupted in laughter, Dothraki slapping their thighs, their voices booming. Daenerys shook her head, her lips twitching. "You're impossible," she said, her tone half-exasperated, half-amused. Adam winked, leaning back. "Impossible's my brand." Jorah glowered, muttering about decorum, his hand on his sword, but Adam ignored him, opening his alchemy table. He mixed milk of the poppy and nightshade, their scents sharp and medicinal, crafting a Black Blood potion for future undead fights. [SYSTEM: BLACK BLOOD CRAFTED.] "Zombie insurance," he muttered, pocketing the vial, its weight reassuring.
Adam wandered the camp, his boots scuffing the sand, his eyes scanning for potential. He spotted an orphan girl, Lyra, stealing bread from a crate, her movements quick and desperate. Her eyes were fierce, her frame thin but wiry, her hair a tangled mess. The system assessed: [SYSTEM: CANDIDATE ASSESSED. 92% SUCCESS CHANCE.] Adam crouched, tossing her a coin that glinted in the firelight. "Hey, kid," he said, his tone kind but direct. "Want power? It's risky, but beats starving." Lyra's eyes narrowed, then softened, her fingers clutching the coin. "What's the catch?" she asked, her voice rough. Adam grinned, meeting her gaze. "You train, you fight, you live. I'll treat you right, not like a slave." She nodded, her jaw set, a flicker of hope in her eyes. Adam opened the portal, its blue light swallowing her like a tide. "Ten days, Lyra. Bring me some cards." [SYSTEM: WITCHER CREATION INITIATED.]
Daenerys' POV: Adam's chaos was maddening, yet his strength anchored the camp, a steady flame in the desert's uncertainty. His talk of Witchers and dragons stirred hope, a vision of power she could wield without losing herself. He's no knight, but he's no liar, she thought, watching him craft a potion with unnatural skill, his hands moving like a sorcerer's, precise and confident. His flirtations warmed her, a dangerous feeling after so much betrayal, her dragons chirping softly as if in agreement. She'd trust him, but slowly, her heart guarded but curious.
Adam played Gwent with an NPC trader, the man's cloak glowing faintly, his deck spread on a crate. Adam's Geralt card crushed the trader's Nilfgaard, the victory swift and satisfying. [SYSTEM: +SILVER SWORD DIAGRAM DISCOUNT.] "Cheap and shiny," Adam said, pocketing the deal, his mind buzzing. Drogon's my endgame, he thought, his eyes drifting to the black dragon, its wings twitching. Loyal dragon, Witchers galore, and me, napping on a pile of gold. Viserys can salute camels forever. He leaned back, sipping wine, the stars bright above. The camp settled, the fire crackling, Daenerys' voice a soft murmur in the distance. His empire was taking shape, and she was warming to him, her smiles more frequent. Life's getting good, he thought, his grin lazy but content.