Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day - Chapter 636: Blood Dragon’s Wild Dance II

Soughing…

Tall trees formed a dense canopy, their fallen leaves and branches carpeting the forest floor in thick layers.

“Roar!”

A piercing cry suddenly echoed through the boundless primeval forest. A silver-haired figure, wielding a pickaxe with desperation, swung furiously at a large, hound-like creature shaped like a dragon.

“Roar~~”

The brown-bellied wyvern with scaly hide let out a mournful wail, its sharp head exploding into a gory mess.

“Haha, what good luck,” Keelan panted, drenched in sweat. He hoisted the hundred-pound corpse and slung it onto his pickaxe.

This was Axe Island, deep in the uncharted jungles of the Sothoryos continent—a wild, deserted place teeming with nothing but Triarchy pirates and enslaved souls. Keelan had escaped here to fulfill his brother Kiel’s dying wish. Kiel, burned to ash in the cremation rites of the Dragonlords of Valyria, had left behind a burden Keelan now carried.

“It’s getting dark,” Keelan muttered, tapping his trembling legs as he trudged toward the bare mountain range ahead. The entire island was hostile, but no place more so than the barren, towering peaks looming in the distance. No vegetation grew on them, and in many places, the scorched earth was visible—evidence of past destruction.

Halfway up the mountain, hidden in the jagged rock, lay a cave. The wind howled through it like the wailing of a ghost.

“Breathe fire and harness wings… Stand with two heads and sing in three…”

Moonlight bathed the ground as Keelan approached, an ancient Valyrian song drifting through the cave, its melody haunting and filled with infinite sadness. Keelan’s face was ashen as he dragged the lifeless brown-bellied wyvern behind him.

‘I’m going to die.’

Wild dragons had no masters. But if Keelan didn’t fight for his life, his dream of escaping the Smoking Sea would be nothing more than a memory of a life spent in chains.

‘I will die if I must, brother,’ he thought, clutching the bloody corpse. This was the best prey he could find—a lone brown-bellied wyvern.

Rumble—

The cave trembled as though something enormous was shifting inside.

“By my voice, words of fire… Blood magic, the sacrifice has paid off.”

The dragon chant continued, growing louder and more dissonant. The pitch grew sharper, more frenzied.

Boom—

A pale dragon head, crowned with twisted horns, emerged from the dark, damp depths. Bloodshot eyes with vertical pupils snapped open. Tick-tock, tick-tock… The creature’s long, sinewy neck extended, and its jaws parted, revealing jagged, irregular fangs. Hungry saliva dripped from its maw, pooling on the ground. Only one head was visible, yet the entire cave radiated a twisted, malevolent energy.

It was a monster of pure chaos, deranged and unnatural.

“Gulp.”

Keelan swallowed hard, frozen in place. He stared straight ahead, his mind blank, his breath forgotten. Even the nursery rhyme he had been humming slipped from his memory, as every hair on his body stood on end.

“Roar…”

The pale wild dragon’s scarlet, vertical pupils flashed with a fierce light, and a low, rumbling growl squeezed out of its throat like a sound wave. Slowly, it revealed its skeletal, slender body. At first glance, it looked like a living skeleton.

Plop.

Keelan bit his tongue, forcing himself back to full awareness, and threw the wyvern corpse toward the awakened wild dragon. The pale creature glanced at it, its sharp wings hooking onto the corpse as it crushed the body beneath them. Its scarlet tongue flicked out, licking at random. Flesh and earth alike were ground into its gaping maw.

“Dragon, be quiet!” Keelan’s heart pounded as he pulled out a dagger and sliced his wrist. Black blood spilled out, the scent quickly arousing the dragon’s ferocity.

Keelan backed away cautiously, muttering a desperate chant under his breath.

Boom.

A few tense seconds later, the pale wild dragon stopped advancing. It lowered its head, licking the sandy ground stained with dark blood. Keelan’s eyes widened as he extended a tentative hand.

The dragon moved slowly, its long tongue lazily licking its hideous muzzle as it glanced sideways at the small insect approaching—Keelan.

In the next instant, its scarlet pupils gleamed with savage intent.

“Roar!”

…

The Next Day, Volantis.

Whoosh!

The alarm blared as the patrol fleet set sail, one ship after another.

“Prince, Prince!” Tyland hurried toward Maekar, who was preparing to mount his dragon, his voice frantic. “The Red Kraken’s fleet is approaching the port!”

“I know,” Maekar replied calmly, fastening the saddle buckle around his waist. “Send a raven to Baelon. Tell him to watch over Lys and the Stepstones.”

“What?” Tyland blinked, confused. “The enemy is coming here!”

Without another word, Maekar tapped his dragon’s silver-gray scales. “Fly, Tyraxes!”

It won’t change anything, he thought. Let him come.

“Roar!”

Tyraxes stretched its neck, roaring as it leaped from the Black Wall, misty wings unfurling in the wind.

Beyond the harbor…

Whoosh!

Dozens of warships cut through the Summer Sea, sailing in perfect formation, ready to storm Volantis. At the head of the fleet was a three-masted ship flying the golden Kraken banner of House Greyjoy.

“Loose the arrows!” The bearded commander ordered, and the pirates unleashed a deadly volley. On the shore, the patrol ships of Volantis formed a defensive line, the Unsullied in their black armor standing resolute.

“Roar!”

A dragon’s roar echoed through the sky, signaling the battle’s beginning.

“Dracarys, Tyraxes!”

Maekar, perched atop his dragon, his sapphire eyes fixed on the fleet below, gave the command. Tyraxes roared in response, swooping down toward the lead warship. A plume of silver-gray dragonfire poured from its maw, resembling smoke and mist.

“Ahhh!”

The golden Kraken banner ignited instantly, flames consuming the ship, killing and maiming many in the process. A smaller dragon joined the assault, tipping the scales of battle—but it wasn’t enough.

“Roar…”

From a distance, a low, thunderous dragon roar reverberated for miles. The sound came with the force of a storm.

“Dracarys!”

A massive, moss-green dragon descended from the clouds. Following its orders, it unleashed a devastating attack, leaving chaos in its wake. Baelon, wearing a silver-and-gold cape, rode the dragon, his hair tousled by the wind. He locked eyes with his younger brother, Maekar.

“Roar!”

Tyraxes soared overhead, easily dodging arrows and spears, raining down dragonfire with lethal precision. Maekar stayed low in the black steel saddle, perfectly in sync with his dragon. Together, they were a force that could tear through any enemy formation.

“I’ll help you, Maekar!” Baelon shouted, his voice filled with excitement. “Let’s drive these Triarchy pirates back where they came from!”

There was no reply from Maekar, but after a moment, a small white hand emerged from the black steel saddle, giving a thumbs-up.

“Haha!” Baelon laughed and rode his dragon, sweeping across the battlefield. Though he had only brought one dragon, its sheer power sent the enemy fleet into disarray.

Whoosh—

A fleet approached from the direction of the Stepstones, its sails bearing the sigils of three red dragons and a blue seahorse. With this new, powerful force, the Triarchy’s fleet collapsed completely.

By the time the sun reached its zenith, the battle was over.

…

Volantis, Magister’s Palace.

The two brothers dismounted from their dragon and walked hand in hand toward the palace.

Baelon, overjoyed, couldn’t stop talking. “The Triarchy lost 40 ships, big and small, so they won’t be able to fight a naval battle anymore.”

Maekar remained silent.

“Why are you so quiet?” Baelon asked, feeling a little strange when his brother stayed quiet.

With a sigh, Maekar finally spoke, “We haven’t found the Red Kraken.”

The fleet had been so weak, as if it was a hodgepodge thrown together at the last minute.

Baelon was no fool and immediately caught on. “A distraction,” he said, realization dawning. One fleet would attack Volantis while the Red Kraken led the main force to strike somewhere else.

“But where could he go?” Baelon wondered aloud. There were no Free Cities nearby that could be easily taken.

Maekar frowned and muttered, “I thought he might go to Lys or the Stepstones, but it seems the Red Kraken doesn’t have the guts.”

Where else could he go?

Just then, a voice interrupted their thoughts.

“Prince!”

As soon as the brothers entered the gate, Tyland, fully armed, rushed out, clutching a letter in his hand. Seeing the two young princes approaching hand in hand, he nearly stumbled backward in surprise.

“What’s wrong, Lord Tyland?” Baelon, who was more composed, couldn’t help but frown. Could he really trust such a flustered teacher?

“Er…” Tyland glanced at Maekar, hesitating. “This letter is for the young Prince.”

As the loyal Governor of Volantis, he would of course deliver the news directly to the one in charge.

“Let me see,” Maekar said, taking the envelope and opening it. He leaned over to Baelon so they could read it together.

The letter was signed by Irina Daeryon of Slaver’s Bay. Its meaning was clear: Volantis wanted to join the war against the Basilisk Isles, and Slaver’s Bay was willing to offer manpower and resources. The conditions, however…

A dark line appeared on Baelon’s forehead as he glanced at his brother, who was only chest-high. ‘This woman… she’s actually trying to take advantage as an old woman.’

“I won’t agree to it.” Maekar crumpled the letter into a ball, tossed it to the ground, and stomped on it. “Old woman.”

She coveted his body, but he wouldn’t let her succeed. Even if Volantis was poor and broken, and every Unsullied sacrificed, Maekar would not allow an old woman with malicious intentions to have her way.

…

Another day and night passed.

The Axe, In a bare mountain dragon lair.

With a low rumble, the pale wild dragon wriggled its ghostly body, devouring the decaying corpse of a wyvern.

“Hooo… hooo…”

A wheezing sound echoed from the top of the cave. Half of the creature’s body was charred black, the other half a twisted, living corpse. Its silver fur had fused into a sticky, matted mess, and it lay curled miserably in a gap in the rock wall.

“It hurts… it hurts…”

A miserable groan escaped from the creature as it opened a single purple eye. The charred body shifted slightly, revealing a face half burned, half intact. The once silver-and-gold fur had melted into a paste, sticking so tightly to its skin that it could barely open its eyes.

Keelan was not dead—at least not yet.

The ritual of taming the dragon, taught in the ancient texts, had been useless. He had still been attacked, grievously wounded. The pale wild dragon was cruel by nature, seeming to enjoy tormenting its prey, allowing Keelan to linger in agony, licking at the last remnants of life.

Sizzle!

The wyvern’s flesh was torn away, bloodied carrion writhing with maggots. The dragon feasted until its hunger was sated, the madness in its scarlet eyes fading slightly. It crawled back to its nest like a dying beast, frail and emaciated, with its dark bones visible beneath its thin skin and scales.

The stiff grinding of its neck and body as it moved betrayed its great age.

Keelan lay on his side, one blind eye tracking the huge creature as it slithered past him.

“Uhh…”

His burnt waist twisted with a final burst of strength, and he let his body fall. With a sickening thud, he crashed onto the dragon’s back, his body slamming into its hard scales. The recoil was nearly enough to make him lose consciousness, and the sharp crack of breaking bones rang in his ears.

CRACK!

The massive beast jerked in pain, crashing into the cave wall. The impact caused the entire cave to collapse around them.

“Roar…”

The pale wild dragon poked its head out from the rubble, flapping its tattered, pale wings. With a wild roar, it shot up into the night sky.

In an instant, the sky blazed with light, as if fireworks had exploded across the heavens—from Axe Island to the Basilisk Isles, from the Summer Sea to the Sea of Dorne.

The only sounds that remained were the man’s low, broken screams, and the frenzied roar of the terrible beast.