hotmtlnovel Chapter 543: Rhaenyra: I’m Applying to War!
Chapter 543: Rhaenyra: I’m Applying to War!
Chapter 543: Rhaenyra: I’m Applying to War!
The children swarmed around him, their eyes shining with curiosity and eagerness. Rhaegar rubbed his eldest son's head and sighed, “This time, I'm only taking Maekar. You need to stay in Lys.”
“Why can't I go?” Baelon asked, disappointment clear in his voice. “I can take care of Maekar.”
Rhaegar shook his head gently, “Not yet. Maekar is only going for a brief visit.”
Baelon's face fell, and he muttered, “Is it because I don't have a dragon?” He pointed to Tyraxes, who was yawning in the corner, and his eyes were full of stubbornness. “All my younger siblings have dragons. They flew here with Mother when we came to Lys. You must be ashamed of me for not having one.”
Rhaegar was taken aback by his son's words. He squatted down in front of Baelon and asked, “Do you want a dragon?”
Baelon turned his head, whispering, “If I'm a disappointment, maybe you should choose a better dragon yourself.”
“No, you're not a disappointment,” Rhaegar said firmly, lifting Baelon's chin. “Dragons aren't tools; they're creatures we should respect and bond with.”
Baelon remained silent, still yearning for a dragon to join his father on adventures to the battlefield and the new lands they were conquering.
Rhaegar took Maekar in one arm and his eldest son in the other, pressing their foreheads together. “Think about it. If you truly want a dragon, I'll do everything I can to help you bond with one.”
Rhaegar favored Maekar, but he had never neglected Baelon. The eldest son was the heir and needed to be a strong leader.
“Take care of your younger siblings and keep your mind focused,” Rhaegar advised, gently rubbing Baelon's shoulder before standing up and walked away.
“Roar~~”
Tyraxes followed its young master, leaving the field together. Baelon lowered his head, staring at his father's retreating figure.
“Brother, don't be upset.” Lyanna approached, holding the small Vermax in her arms, and offered, “I'll lend you Vermax.”
Baelon glanced at her, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he rubbed her frizzy head. “No need, Anna.”
He had given away the dragon egg that eventually hatched into Vermax. It seemed ironic that the egg hadn't hatched for him in six years but quickly did so in his sister's care.
“Move over, little girl.” Aemon pushed Anna aside, draping an arm around Baelon's shoulders. “Come on! I'll take you back to Dragonstone. We’ll find Silverwing together.”
If anyone understood Baelon's heart, it was Aemon. Baelon glanced at him, then pushed him away with a hint of irritation, “Forget it. You’d probably wet your pants.”
“Go ahead and play. I need to go for a walk.”
Baelon didn’t want any comforting words and left the Dragonpit in silence.
Comfort is something only the weak need, he thought. His father had always told him he was born to be strong. And a strong man needs an adult dragon with overwhelming superiority.
...
“Roar...”
“Quiet, Syrax,” Rhaegar called as he returned to the Dragonpit. His attention was immediately drawn to the golden beast.
Syrax lay sprawled on the floor, playfully shaking its head. Nearby, Rhaenyra, dressed in her black dragon harness for the first time in a long while, gently rubbed the dragon’s chin.
Rhaegar was taken aback. “Rhaenyra, are you going on patrol?”
“No!” Rhaenyra smiled, then announced, “Wherever you go, I will go.”
“But I’m going back to Volantis. Lys can't be left unguarded,” Rhaegar protested, sensing trouble.
Rhaenyra walked forward and took Maekar from his arms, her demeanor calm. “I don’t want to stay behind. Laena will be my Warden in Lys.”
Laena had been removed from the battlefield, Helaena was home pregnant, and Aemond was exiled. The war lacked frontline dragon riders, and Rhaenyra was ready to fill that void.
New Ghis, an island city-state at the mouth of Slaver's Bay, was built on the ashes of the Old Empire of Ghis. After the fleet from Westeros attacked, it immediately raised the flag of neutrality.
“Damn it, they don't care about our lives!” The bald Wise Master, enraged, whipped the slave across the face, shouting, “If they don't support us, the slaves in the city will open the gates and surrender.”
“No! No!” The slave, his face covered in open wounds from the whip, waved his hands in fear. “We rely on the Good Masters for our lives and would never dare to betray them.”
“You worthless bones, get out of here!” The bald Wise Master's mood slightly improved, allowing the messenger slave to leave. He then turned to see the other Good Masters wandering around, each one distracted and lost in thought.
A young Wise Master fell to his knees, his hands touching the blackened parapet. In a trance, he muttered, “Dragon, such a beautiful golden dragon.”
The Iron Throne's fleet was stationed at the Worm River, effectively cutting off Astapor's access to the outside world. For several days, a golden dragon had been sent to burn the Free City, inciting panic and fear among its inhabitants.
Ignoring the other Good Masters, the bald one opened the wooden box sent by the messenger. Suddenly, a hoarse cry rang out.
“Dragons! Run for your lives!”
The bald Good Masters were shocked. Before they could react, they were already knocked down by a black-armored soldier.
“Roar!” A magnificent golden dragon burst through the clouds, and dragonfire, as intense as the sun's surface, surged forward.
“More fire!” Aegon, clad in black battle armor, commanded in a mix of High Valyrian and the common tongue.
Boom!
Sunfyre’s pupils widened with excitement as it soared from one end of the city wall to the other, unleashing torrents of dragonfire.
“Roar!” Sunfyre spit a round of fire into the air, its pale pink wing membranes shimmering like a rainbow.
Thousands of Unsullied stood on the city walls, but some were too slow to dodge and were consumed by the dragonfire.
“Go, hurry!” The Good Masters, with their shaved heads and smoky makeup, scrambled down the ramparts, escorted by the Unsullied.
The Unsullied, well-trained and disciplined, did not back down in the face of the dragon. Under the command of their leader, identifiable by the three spikes on his helmet, they aimed their scorpion crossbows to fight back.
“Roar!” Sunfyre spit out several more mouthfuls of dragonfire and quickly escaped before the scorpion crossbows could be fired.
Aegon’s face turned red with exhilaration. He raised his arms in celebration: “Well done! Today’s mission is complete.”
...
The man and the dragon departed in style, leaving the Good Masters of Astapor with their hearts racing. As the golden dragon flew away, the Unsullied breathed a collective sigh of relief and, as they were accustomed to doing, began carrying away the charred corpses of their comrades.
Beneath the city walls, two Unsullied flanked the bald Wise Master on either side. He trembled, his face pale. “No, we can't go on like this,” he muttered.
The enemy had blocked the riverbank and sent dragons to attack every day. Astapor was now an isolated city, its thousands of Unsullied troops unable to exert their full power.
As he spoke, several Unsullied with heavy faces descended from the city walls. One of them carried a body adorned with luxurious jewelry, the stench of burning flesh still lingering.
"This, this..." The bald Wise Master's eyes widened in disbelief, his voice catching in his throat. The sight of the fallen, once-proud master, now a charred husk, left him speechless.
...
On the other side, Aegon returned to his camp after the successful attack. He dismounted from Sunfyre and looked around, searching for someone.
Frustrated by the disarray, he stormed through the camp, overturning supplies and barking orders. Finally, he called for the Maester who accompanied the army.
The Maester hurried over, his face a mix of concern and curiosity. Aegon, not known for his patience, snatched a parchment and quill from the Maester’s satchel. He bit down on the quill in frustration, then hastily scrawled a few lines of barely legible scratch.