Chapter 79: Clash of the Two Dragons
At Queenscrown, in the camp's training ground, Saelen wiped the sweat from his body and sheathed his frost greatsword. He opened the system panel to check his progress:
Strength: 6.32 + 0.02 (Trainable)
Agility: 4.30 + 0.02 (Trainable)
Endurance: 5.32 + 0.02 (Trainable)
Not bad. After half a month of daily training, each attribute had increased by 0.3. The results were clear and significant.
Saelen left the training ground and returned to his tent. The area was tightly guarded—Kesso and Worrel had stationed over a dozen soldiers around it. No one was allowed within ten meters.
These guards were deeply tied to him. Their families lived in his domain—some worked in the porcelain and glass workshops. Their children, if bright, were taught reading and arithmetic by maesters; those less inclined toward study were sent for basic combat training under the instructor at Castle Edd. Each guard also received an extra five silver stags per month.
With such generous treatment, Saelen had no doubts about their loyalty after issuing strict orders of silence. And if anyone still chose betrayal under these conditions—he would show no mercy. Death would be the least of their punishment; their families would suffer as well.
Inside the tent, Bloodshadow stood atop a large stone platform, opening its jaws and exhaling a stream of dark crimson dragonfire.
The intense heat distorted the air itself. Pieces of mutton placed on the platform were instantly cooked through. Ever since Saelen used mana to accelerate their growth, both dragons had gained the ability to breathe fire, and roasting meat had become their own task.
Bloodshadow snapped up a piece of roasted meat—but Sunflame immediately lunged for the other half.
In an instant, the two dragons were locked in a scuffle, their sharp, piercing cries echoing through the tent.
Saelen barely reacted. Over the past half month, such clashes had happened more than a dozen times.
Dragons were magical creatures—intelligent, quick learners—but they also possessed strong territorial instincts and the raw nature of beasts. Their competitive drive was instinctive. Even Saelen, as their master, could not interfere in every dispute.
They weren't lacking food. Kesso delivered fresh mutton daily, and their appetites were still small. Yet they constantly fought over the same piece.
Over time, Saelen understood—this wasn't about food at all.
It was about dominance.
They were competing for absolute authority within the same territory.
The fight ended quickly, as usual—with Sunflame losing. Being smaller, it was at a disadvantage and rarely won. Still, it refused to back down, challenging Bloodshadow again and again.
Now Sunflame stood to the side, battered and dusty, licking its wounds. Injuries were inevitable in these fights. Once, the conflict had escalated—both dragons had unleashed dragonfire, scorching each other and nearly burning down the entire tent.
Saelen had been forced to intervene, using his warg abilities to forcibly restrain them before sealing them into the mana Storage. Even so, the tent had been reduced to ashes.
That incident had caused quite a stir. Nearby soldiers had rushed in fully armed, thinking Saelen was under attack. Though he dismissed them in time, rumors quickly spread.
Some said he kept a fire-breathing beast in his tent. Others claimed he was practicing dark magic and lost control. Some even whispered that he had been attacked by an evil sorcerer.
Saelen ignored it all, offering no explanation. No one dared question him, and eventually, the matter faded away.
He walked over to the stone platform—a custom piece he had ordered specifically for the dragons to roast meat. At first, he had used iron skewers, but the dragonfire had melted them into molten metal. Even the stone platform was now blackened from constant use.
As Saelen approached, both dragons immediately leaned in, rubbing their heads against him affectionately. He reached out and stroked them. The two hatchlings half-closed their eyes, letting out soft, contented sounds.
After spending some time with them, Saelen washed up, changed clothes, and headed to the main command tent.
Inside, Lawrence and Maester Emil were already waiting.
Not long after Saelen sat down, Jon arrived as well—accompanied by Ygritte and the so-called "wildling princess," Val.
The three of them had only returned from Castle Black two days ago.
Jon had little to do at Castle Black, so he came to find Saelen and discuss when they should return to Winterfell. Ygritte had now become Jon's constant shadow—wherever he went, she followed.
As for Val, she had originally been kept at Castle Black as a hostage. But her beauty drew attention wherever she went, and Castle Black was filled entirely with men. She was frequently harassed, and more than once, men had even come to blows over her.
The Night's Watch might have sworn to take no wives and father no children, but that didn't mean they had no desire for women—especially one as striking as her.
Because of her, tensions at Castle Black had flared repeatedly. Jeor Mormont had grown thoroughly fed up. With Mance Rayder allowing Jon to leave, he simply went along with it and sent Val away as well.
After gaining her freedom, Val didn't return to the free folk settlements in the Gift. Instead, she followed Jon to Saelen's camp—and settled there of her own accord.
With such a beauty willingly staying nearby, Saelen saw no reason to refuse. Of course, he had no intention of losing his head over it. In this frozen land full of men, simply having someone like her around was already a rare and pleasant sight.
Wrapped tightly in thick furs, Val's figure was all the more striking—her graceful features and long, firm legs giving her a uniquely captivating, almost exotic beauty.
Saelen gave her a brief nod before withdrawing his gaze and turning to Emil.
"Emil, have the blacksmiths from Castle Edd arrived?"
"They have, my lord," Emil replied. "They arrived about a month ago—five master smiths and a hundred apprentices, all skilled in forging weapons and armor. The workshop is complete and ready to begin production at any time."
This had been arranged before Saelen left for beyond the Wall. He had sent word to Maester Rosmund, requesting smiths to help forge dragonglass weapons. To build the temporary workshop, Saelen had even delayed renovations on the wooden keep and the abandoned watchtower.
Emil then picked up a ledger.
"Supplies have also been arriving steadily from the castle," he continued. "One thousand sets of lamellar armor, one thousand longswords, five hundred spears, five hundred shields, along with large quantities of grain. Winterfell has also sent several shipments."
"That's enough to feed the free folk for about a month. With careful planning and rationing, we might stretch it to two."
"Good," Saelen said. "You'll oversee the allocation. Feeding tens of thousands isn't something we can manage alone—we can only provide support. The rest, they'll have to manage themselves."
He didn't bother lowering his voice in front of Val. With the free folk, it was better to speak plainly—too much subtlety would only complicate matters.
"Yes, my lord," Emil replied. The task ahead would be enormous.
Saelen then turned to Lawrence.
"And your soldiers? How is their training progressing?"
"My lord, most of them have already seen combat," Lawrence answered. "The nearby bandits have been wiped out."
He paused briefly, glancing at Val.
"As for the wildlings who crossed the Wall without permission—those who refused to surrender have been executed. The ones who surrendered have been sent to Castle Edd, as per your orders."