The Dragon was, without question, the most terrifying weapon of war in this era.
While other civilizations were still locked in brutal clashes with blades and arrows, the Bloodmages of the Valyrian Freehold had already succeeded in developing dragons—creatures that were, in essence, living "nuclear weapons." Not only that, but they were capable of fighting across both land and sky.
Tiamat and Dreamshade were soaring high above the ocean.
Their riders had deliberately guided them to an altitude of over 4,000 meters. At that height, the air currents were more stable and resistance was lower, making it ideal for long-range flight. It also made them harder to detect.
Long before setting out to assist Balerion, Aegon and Daenys had mentally prepared for battle. Since they would be entering combat, the best option was an ambush. Striking first would give them a decisive advantage—and a much safer position.
When the dragons reached the coordinates Farlen had marked on the map, Dreamshade quietly broke formation, flying off from Tiamat just as Aegon had planned. The strategy was simple: Tiamat, built like a heavily armored juggernaut, would charge in as the frontline brawler, while Dreamshade would remain hidden and strike from the rear when the moment was right.
The two dragons swept across the sea, scanning for any signs or clues.
Today, the summer breeze over the ocean was mild and steady. The sea was calm, the sky cloudless—visibility was perfect.
After circling for a while, Dreamshade noticed something unusual: scattered wooden debris from shattered cargo ships drifting on the surface.
She immediately turned back and signaled Tiamat to follow.
As the two dragons grew more familiar with one another, their coordination had also improved. By now, they could communicate simple signals using little more than low growls and short cries.
Tiamat lowered her altitude, settling into the normal flight height for a dragon—clearly playing the role of bait.
Meanwhile, Dreamshade took position overhead, silently hiding herself. Thanks to her mimetic scale armor, she was practically invisible—just a vague outline in the sky.
Soon, faint ripples began to appear on the sea's surface—evidence of ships moving beneath them.
Tiamat gave a deep, rumbling roar, a warning for Dreamshade to remain hidden. Dreamshade didn't respond, but she silently ascended a little higher in perfect coordination.
After flying a bit farther, Aegon finally spotted House Targaryen's fleet in the distance. He also saw four dragons locked in a standoff in the sky—Balerion, and three adult red dragons belonging to House Aurélion.
The tension in the air was thick, the battlefield momentarily frozen. The four dragonriders negotiating below quickly noticed Tiamat's approach.
Two of House Aurélion's dragonriders lit up with delight the moment they saw the red dragon approaching, assuming reinforcements had arrived.
Aenar, however, felt his heart sink. Damn it... it looks like the enemy brought backup!
Sure enough, the massive red dragon was flying straight toward the two dragons on the Aurélion side of the standoff.
As Tiamat drew closer, Aegon cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, "Brothers of House Aurélion! I've come to support you!"
Lymond Aurélion frowned in confusion. Wait, I didn't request reinforcements from the main branch. What's going on?
"Lord Aurélion, something's off! That red dragon looks like the 'Mother of Evil Dragons' from the Fourteen Flames—wasn't she still unclaimed?" one of the Aurélion dragonriders shouted after a closer inspection.
But Aegon just kept smiling and yelled, "Come on, brothers, we're family! Don't attack! Be careful not to hit your own people!"
When Tiamat was less than 200 meters from the stalemated battlefield, the Aurélion riders finally realized something was wrong.
"He's the enemy—damn it! The Mother of Dragons isn't slowing down. She's charging right at us!" Lymond shouted in panic. "Quick! Use dragonfire to stop her—ah! No... it's too late!"
Tiamat was already a step ahead. Before the stunned Aurélion dragons could react, she had gathered a terrifying charge of dragonfire.
With a deafening roar, a thick torrent of flame—molten and viscous like lava—erupted from her jaws, blasting directly into one of House Aurélion's red dragons. In a flash, its wing membranes were incinerated by the searing heat. The creature screamed in agony, spiraled wildly, and plummeted into the sea.
One blast—one instant—and a dragon was gone. The loss made Lymond feel like his heart had been ripped from his chest.
But what terrified him even more was Tiamat herself. The Dragonlord's body, massive and overwhelming, was now barreling toward him like a tidal wave of death.
Tiamat was more than twice the size of Lymond's dragon. She slammed into it at full speed, crashing directly into the dragon's chest with bone-crushing force.
Almost at the same moment, Tiamat's massive jaws clamped down hard on the neck of Lymond's dragon.
The beast thrashed wildly in the air, and the two enormous creatures became locked in a brutal aerial grapple. Their wings beat frantically, spinning in the sky as the force of the struggle pulled them into a spiraling descent.
Seeing Lymond in such danger, the last remaining dragonrider of House Aurélion grew frantic. He was about to rush in to help, thinking that if he could just kill the dragonrider of the "Mother of Evil Dragons," there might still be a sliver of hope left. After all, no matter how fearsome Tiamat was, her rider was still just flesh and blood. One hit from a dragon, and he'd be dead.
It was a good plan—just poorly timed.
While the rider was fully focused on Tiamat, Dreamshade had already slipped silently behind him.
A cascade of silver dragonfire poured down like a waterfall, mercilessly engulfing him.
Both the Aurélion dragonrider and the dragon beneath him let out piercing screams.
Dreamshade's breath didn't just burn flesh—it struck the soul itself. Compared to physical pain, the mental agony it caused was hundreds of times more terrifying.
Overwhelmed by the torment, the final Aurélion dragon went completely berserk. In the most critical moment, it panicked and bolted from the battlefield, desperate to escape.
The rider on its back, grievously wounded, had already slipped into a vegetative state.
With no one at the reins, the terrified red dragon fled in blind terror, mindlessly seeking any path to safety.
But its way forward was blocked—by a black dragon.
There, in its path, stood Balerion, the Black Dread.
Aenar had recognized Aegon's arrival the moment he approached, and naturally, he wouldn't stand by and do nothing. But Tiamat's ambush had been so sudden, so swift, that Balerion hadn't had the chance to intervene in time.
Now, Balerion opened his gaping maw and unleashed a terrifying breath of pitch-black flame. Like a curtain blotting out the sky, it swept toward the retreating Aurélion dragon, engulfing it completely.
For a regular dragon, Balerion's breath was nothing short of a death sentence.
Trapped within the storm of darkness, the red dragon screamed in agony. Lost in madness, it fired its own breath wildly in every direction—but it was futile. Balerion's black flame clung to it like a parasite, burning relentlessly, refusing to be extinguished even by the raging winds around them.
The crew aboard the ships watched in awe and terror as the battle unfolded above them—a spectacle of fire and fury. And already, in the span of mere moments, the battle was nearly over.
High in the sky, Tiamat was still locked in combat with Lymond's dragon. But Lymond, knowing he was doomed, had made his choice. If I'm going to die today, he thought, then I'm taking this monster with me. Even if the 'Mother of Evil Dragons' is too tough to die from the fall, I'll at least wound her.
But Lymond was far too naive.
Tiamat's bloodlust had reached its peak. She no longer responded to Aegon's commands in the mental link—his plea to break free was completely ignored.
Instead, Tiamat extended her massive hind claws, like steel hooks, and drove them deep into Lymond's dragon. With a savage twist, she began to tear.
As the red dragon let out shrieks of pain and madness, the sound of muscle ripping and sinew snapping filled the air—chilling to the bone. Then, in one horrifying motion, Tiamat tore Lymond's dragon apart mid-air.
Dragonblood erupted like a downpour, bursting across the sky before raining down into the sea below, staining the water a vivid, blinding red.
The mangled halves of the dragon's corpse crashed into the sea with two thunderous splashes, sending waves surging in all directions.
The sheer brutality of the fight stunned everyone watching—human and dragon alike.
Aegon stared blankly at the blood-soaked sea, at the scattered remains of the dragon drifting on the waves. His mouth hung open slightly, his face frozen in disbelief.
He'd thought he had already overestimated Tiamat's savagery. But once again, she had shattered every expectation.
"Boom!" Another deafening explosion rang out—one more dragon, burned by Balerion's black flame, plummeted from the sky and slammed into the sea, sending up a monstrous wave and another echoing crash.
Though two wounded dragons were still struggling in the ocean, the outcome of the battle was already beyond doubt.