Chapter 238 — Molten Dragon, Reborn in Fire!
"What do you think you're doing to my dragon… Davy Jones?"
Lance stepped forward, his boot crushing a slime-coated stone into fragments.
He raised his head, azure eyes cutting through the dim light and swirling mist, locking firmly onto the grotesque figure before him.
His voice wasn't loud—
But the mockery in it was unmistakable.
"Or perhaps… I should call you—"
"Euron Greyjoy."
The creature's body jerked violently.
Beneath the seaweed-like membrane covering its face, something twisted unnaturally—muscle and flesh writhing beneath the surface. Its split maw stretched wider, its vertical pupils snapping tight as a freezing malice poured out.
"Lance… Lot…"
Its voice sounded like the grinding of a thousand shipwrecks crushed together in the abyss.
A horrifying chorus—
Seawater choking a throat, mingled with distant wails, bursting bubbles, creaking bones, and the roars of unseen leviathans.
The stench that followed was worse—rotting marine decay, thick and suffocating.
At the sight of Lance, "Euron" clearly remembered something unpleasant.
"You cannot kill the children of the great Drowned God… Regent."
Its chest heaved violently, something beneath its carapace pumping like a monstrous bellows.
Then its voice rose—fanatical, ecstatic, like a priest offering himself to oblivion:
"I was reborn from the sea!"
"The great Drowned God tore apart my flesh… and embraced me in the abyss of death!"
"Sea salt… stone… and—"
Its claw snapped toward Lance, jagged edges clicking together with a grating clack, while its other hand raised the twisted bone trident, humming in resonance.
"—steel!"
Lance snorted.
"Sea salt, stone, steel?"
His gaze swept slowly over the creature—over the leeches writhing beneath its shell, the crawling starfish, the twitching tentacles—before settling back on its misshapen face.
"I think what your so-called god really gave you…"
He paused.
"…is the blessing of turning into a plate of seafood."
His eyes narrowed, utterly merciless.
"Honestly, you look like something a fisherman threw away three weeks ago to rot under the sun."
"I could buy a whole basket of you for a single copper."
"ROOOAAARR—!!!"
The response wasn't just sound.
It was a shockwave.
A mental assault.
The already dim light collapsed further, as if swallowed. The air thickened—heavy, tar-like, suffocating.
Green-black growths spread wildly across the slime-coated walls, pulsing with nauseating wet sounds.
And yet—
Lance raised "Dawn" with one hand.
"Break."
The invisible pressure slammed into the blade—
—and stopped.
A barrier of light formed, silent and absolute.
Heat shimmered faintly across his white armor—the power of Azor Ahai itself resisting the corruption.
He stood unmoved.
Like a mountain.
In his eyes burned not fear—
—but fury.
Pure, cleansing fury.
The clash lasted only a heartbeat.
Then—
Unexpectedly—
The creature smiled.
A grotesque, splitting grin.
More terrifying than rage.
It looked at Lance as if… appreciating him.
As if he were something delicious.
"You are strong… Lance Lot."
The tone shifted—no longer quite Euron's, but something deeper.
"I have sifted through the memories of countless shipwrecks… tasted the last terror of drowning souls…"
"…never have I encountered a human as… powerful… and delicious as you."
Then its voice snapped back—mad, triumphant.
"I understand now."
"The mortal body is a cage."
"So—"
It spread its massive claw wide, embracing the corrupted world around it.
"I will no longer be human!"
A scream erupted—
Like the ocean itself roaring.
And in that instant—
Everything answered.
From cracks.
From shadows.
From the abyss below—
Hundreds… thousands…
Blue-green monstrosities opened their glowing eyes.
Their voices rose together, a maddening chorus.
Though alien—
Lance could almost understand it.
"THE DEAD DO NOT DIE!"
They surged.
No hesitation.
No restraint.
A tidal wave of flesh and hatred.
"Come, then."
Lance's grip tightened.
His blades erupted—white purification and crimson destruction spiraling skyward.
The battle began.
Fire and rot collided.
Each swing burned through bodies, reducing them to ash—
But they kept coming.
Endless.
Relentless.
Even at seventy-five percent fusion with Azor Ahai's power—
This… was too much.
And then—
He noticed.
They weren't all attacking him.
Some—
Were slipping past.
A chill shot through him.
"…No."
A dragon's cry split the air.
"Ilyon —!"
The dragon's wingspan stretched wide—but bound by crimson chains and overwhelmed by the swarm, it was like a lion dragged down by wolves.
More creatures piled on—
Clawing.
Biting.
Devouring.
Then—
CRASH—!!!
The dragon collapsed.
Its massive body struck the stone, shaking the entire platform.
"Illiyon!!!"
Something inside Lance snapped.
No more restraint.
No more calculation.
Only rage.
"GET OFF HIM!!!"
He exploded forward—
A storm of blades and fire—
Carving a path through the tide.
Nothing could stand between him and his dragon.
He leapt—
Landing atop Ilyon 's back.
Below him—
Chaos.
Around him—
Monsters.
Before him—
Chains.
Beyond—
The source.
He stood at the center of it all.
Without hesitation—
He drove both blades into a nearby creature, anchoring himself.
Then—
He drew back.
Power gathered.
Compressed.
Condensed—
"DAWNBRAND!!!"
This time—
Not a slash.
But an eruption.
A golden sun detonated from his body.
Light swallowed everything.
The monsters—
Didn't even have time to scream.
They vaporized instantly.
Flesh, bone, slime—
Gone.
The shockwave blasted everything nearby into the air.
Then—
Silence.
For a moment.
The dragon lay exposed again—
But wounded.
Magma-like blood seeped from torn flesh.
It breathed heavily, barely conscious.
Lance himself staggered slightly, heat pouring from his armor.
That attack had cost him.
A lot.
He pulled his blades free—
Eyes sweeping the battlefield with cold killing intent.
Then—
Laughter.
Low.
Mocking.
He looked up.
"Euron" stood untouched.
The monsters parted around it.
Its claw clicked softly as it stepped forward, gaze filled with amusement.
"Lance Lot…"
Its voice stretched, dripping with ridicule.
"Look at you…"
"How pitiful you've become."
Then it pointed at Ilyon again, its claw snapping forward with vicious contempt.
"You can't even protect your own dragon—how ironic!"
"Right under your nose, it's been reduced to a pitiful beast—bound in chains, gnawed by lesser creatures!"
"You're not worthy of it! You never were! You don't even understand where it truly belongs!"
Its voice rose higher and higher, shrill with fanaticism, as the massive claw swung toward the dark, churning Sunset Sea.
"The deep sea… is the origin of all things!"
"Death is not the end—it is the beginning of union with the divine! A creature of such power should not soar through your foolish skies, nor be tainted by dirt and land!"
"It should return to its source!"
"Return to the embrace of the Drowned God—into the immortal abyss!"
"HAHAHAHA—!!!"
The laughter rang out like a chorus of mad sirens, making the very air tremble.
"Come, dragon!"
"Forget the illusion of the sky—embrace the sea! The great Drowned God will accept your cold heart and grant you an immortal form!"
At its delirious proclamation, the surrounding creatures—once hesitant—began to stir again, throats rumbling, bodies twitching, ready to surge forward.
And yet—
Lance stood unmoving atop the dragon's back.
As if he hadn't heard a word.
His breathing slowed, steady once more.
He lowered his blades.
Ignored the madness.
Ignored the monsters.
Ignored even the foul, salt-heavy wind cutting through the platform.
Then—
He bent his knees.
And knelt.
Right beside Ilyon 's battered, trembling head.
His hand rose—slowly, gently—and came to rest against the dragon's cold, shuddering cheek, fingers brushing the heated scales beneath its great eye.
"I know you're afraid, child."
His voice was low.
Calm.
Free of all killing intent.
A faint, dawn-like glow flowed from his fingertips, seeping quietly beneath the scales.
"I know you've been bound before… by chains like these."
"But that kind of evil can never truly break you."
"Do you remember?"
"We fought side by side… you and I… and that old man."
"Those fools want to drown you in silence—tell you you're alone, that the sky holds no hope."
He paused.
"Don't believe them."
His voice hardened—unyielding as steel.
"They're wrong."
He lowered his head, pressing his forehead gently—through cold steel helm—against the dragon's massive snout.
Man and dragon.
Forehead to forehead.
"You were never alone in the abyss."
"Look at me, child."
His voice softened, like he was calling something back from the dark.
"Look at me."
Under the steady gaze of those burning blue eyes—
Ilyon 's tightly shut pupil trembled.
Then—
Slowly—
Opened a sliver.
"They want to bind you with these filthy chains… make you kneel to rot and darkness?"
A faint smile curved Lance's lips—wild, defiant.
"But what flows in your veins… is my power."
"The will of Lance Lot!"
"The courage to burn the dark! The resolve to shatter fate itself!"
"Feel it!"
"Feel the fire in your blood—the magma in your heart!"
As his words fell—
A far greater force surged.
Pure.
Overwhelming.
It burst from him like a resonance of souls, pouring directly into the dragon.
[Will of the Kindling]
A ripple spread outward—
Invisible, yet immense.
"Not good!!!"
The creature shrieked, sensing danger.
"Kill them! NOW!!!"
The monsters surged again.
Screaming.
Charging.
But—
What answered them—
Was not pain.
It was rage.
A dragon's roar.
Pure.
Absolute.
Deafening.
The ruins of Casterly Rock trembled.
The sea below shuddered.
The crimson chains binding Ilyon screamed under the strain—light flickering, twisting, breaking.
Its wounds—
Closed.
At visible speed.
From within its ash-gray scales, molten gold-red light began to flow—
Like lava beneath stone.
The damaged scales didn't just heal—
They transformed.
Dark gold patterns shimmered across them, metallic and divine.
The pressure—
The presence—
It changed.
Even the fearless monsters froze—
Trembling.
The chains of the abylss—
Shattered.
The ash dragon—
Reborn in fire.
It lifted its head high.
And atop that rising titan—
Stood the knight in white.
Together—
They roared into the defiled sky:
"Burn them all."