Daenys knew Tiamat's secret. The great dragon bore a terrible curse—one that slowly drained her life.
To a dragon knight, a dragon was far more than just a mount. Once a dragon formed a spiritual bond with a Valyrian, it became as dear as blood kin—closer than a sibling, bound by a connection deeper than words.
So when Daenys learned that Aegon was considering staying behind to save Tiamat, she wasn't entirely surprised. And yet, she couldn't stop a wave of grievance from rising in her heart.
Yes—grievance.
She had been so full of joy, imagining a future where she and Aegon would travel to Westeros together, build a new home, perhaps even a new kingdom.
"How much time does she have left?" Daenys gently hugged Aegon from behind, resting her head on his back as she asked in a soft voice.
"At most, another six months," Aegon answered truthfully. He gently patted her hand resting on his, then added, "But the reason I want to stay isn't only for Tiamat. Even if I win the Champion Dragonbattle, the Dragonlord Council might not let us leave as easily as we hoped."
"But didn't the elders promise? That if you won, they would let us go?" Daenys looked up at him, puzzled.
"The Dragonlord Council won't stop us openly. But they might send people to ambush us in secret. If anything happens, the elders won't intervene," Aegon said as he turned to face her. He gently cupped her cheeks, his gaze warm and resolute. "As long as I remain in Valyria, they won't dare to make a move. I'll join Bloodsource Peak. And with a King-tier Dragon at my side, that alone will be enough to make them hesitate."
Hearing that, Daenys clung to him tightly.
"First, we need to get you and the child safely off the Valyria Peninsula," Aegon said as he softly stroked her back, sighing with quiet resignation. "After that, we'll see what happens. If it really comes down to it, I'll do whatever it takes to leave too."
After discussing that crucial matter, Aegon waited until her emotions had settled. Then, as they always did, the two of them walked hand in hand along the golden sands of the bay.
Their shadows stretched long in the light of the setting sun.
...
A few days later, the forge was abuzz with activity. Aenar, Aegon, Daenys, and others had all gathered there.
Today was the day Aegon's Valyrian greatsword would be completed. Everyone's gaze was fixed on the blazing forge, full of anticipation.
Master Wormell stood intently focused. He slowly crouched down and carefully pulled a massive sword from beneath the red-hot forge, where it had been buried in dragonbone ash.
As he moved, the ash trickled off like fine silver sand, revealing intricate layers of blood-red patterns across the blade—like veins of living fire winding over its surface, glowing faintly in the light.
All eyes were immediately drawn to it.
The sword was a striking two meters long, with a broad and heavy blade. Its edge gleamed with a cold, piercing light that shimmered like it could cut through steel. The hilt was wrapped in intricately carved dragonbone.
Wormell held the greatsword with both hands, his face beaming with undisguised pride. He took a special quenching liquid and carefully rinsed the blade. Clear water flowed slowly down, washing away the last remnants of ash and residue.
Once cleaned, the blade radiated an even more chilling brilliance. The already intricate blood patterns now shone with vivid clarity, as if they were flowing. The blade surface gleamed like a mirror, reflecting those standing nearby. The sharp glint of the steel was so intense it almost stung the skin.
When the cleaning was complete, Wormell, visibly moved, respectfully presented the finished greatsword to Aegon. His voice trembled slightly.
"Your Highness, the sword is complete. I have fulfilled the task."
"Thank you," Aegon replied simply and firmly. No extra words. His eyes were already fixed on the newly forged weapon.
He reached out and gripped the hilt, lifting the greatsword with steady strength, testing its weight.
Fortunately, it was still within his control.
Valyrian military swordsmanship was known for its bold, sweeping techniques—lethal on the battlefield. With a weapon like this, such techniques would become even more devastating, capable of cutting a path through enemy lines with brutal force.
But that wasn't the sword's only purpose.
At the base of the hilt was a threaded attachment, designed to be screwed onto a spear shaft. It allowed the sword to convert into a lance with ease.
Nearby, a servant stood respectfully, holding a dragon lance shaft.
The shaft was nearly four meters long, thick and sturdy. Aegon took it and, with practiced ease, twisted the sword into place. Instantly, a uniquely crafted dragon lance came into full view.
He tested its feel in his hands.
The weapon was undeniably heavy—he tried a few swings on the ground but found it difficult to maneuver freely.
Of course, that wasn't its intended use.
The dragon lance wasn't designed to be wielded on foot. Its true function was to be mounted on a locking mechanism atop the dragon's back. When two dragons closed in during aerial combat, the rider could simply follow the track of the mount and thrust it forward with force—no need to lift or swing it by hand in the air.
Aegon then detached the greatsword and stepped outside to an open training space.
Gripping the hilt with both hands, he began to move. Each swing was sharp and fluid, showcasing his practiced technique.
In clash strikes, the greatsword cut through the air like a crashing wave of steel.
In sliding strikes, it flowed like a serpent in motion.
In parry strikes, the blade rebounded at the moment of contact, deflecting an imagined attack and opening space for a swift counter.
...
"Good, good!" Aenar applauded with enthusiasm, his eyes filled with pride and admiration for Aegon's flawless swordsmanship.
With a powerful swing, Aegon raised the greatsword high and brought it crashing down. A thunderous boom rang out as the blade split the ground, carving a deep fissure through the earth. Dust flew, and the land trembled beneath the force.
He smoothly pulled the sword back, grounding its tip as he steadied his breath. Then he smiled and said,
"A custom-made weapon really does feel different. I'll call this greatsword Bloodfire. It will earn its name in the coming battle against the Dragonlords."
"Haha! Now that's the spirit. That's how a son of House Targaryen should be!" Aenar laughed heartily.
But Daenys, standing to the side, frowned at her father. "You always praise him. Just don't let him grow arrogant and underestimate his opponents."
Aegon chuckled too. "Look down on them strategically, respect them tactically—that's the right way."
He gestured for everyone to follow him to the back of the forge, where Tiamat's dragon nest lay nearby. By now, Tiamat's body had grown well beyond 200 meters in length. The [-S -Life Code] trait didn't weaken her vitality—on the contrary, it had massively accelerated her growth.
To illustrate: if a normal life cycle spans a hundred years, someone affected by the negative effects of [-S -Life Code] might live through their entire life in less than a year—aging, declining, and dying at terrifying speed.
Tiamat had just passed her prime and was now slowly entering old age. The bone armor along her body had thickened to over half a meter, offering defense rivaling solid steel. Her once-sleek dragonhide now showed visible folds and creases.
The upcoming Dragonlord battle would strike during Tiamat's peak. Afterward, her decline would be swift and inevitable—the twilight of her life already on the horizon.
When Tiamat saw Aegon approaching, she let out a lazy huff, her manner utterly relaxed and unbothered.
Aegon looked at her and felt a wave of emotion rise in his heart. You're the one who lives freely, without all the mess of politics and fear. Not even your own ending weighs on you.
He leaned the dragonlance against her massive body, then climbed up using a rope ladder, gripping with both hands and feet. Once on her back, he stood steady and hauled the seven-meter-long lance up, slotting it into a specially made mounting clamp. He tested the fit by pushing and pulling the lance back and forth—it held firm, no issues.
"Take off, Tiamat!" Aegon shouted.
At his command, Tiamat let out a deep, resonant roar. She rose to her feet, thundered forward on powerful hind legs, and after a long run, spread her vast wings. With a surge of wind, she took to the sky and soared straight upward into the clouds.
Daenys raised a hand to her forehead, squinting against the bright sun as she followed Aegon with her gaze.
High above, Aegon and Tiamat practiced aerial charges and thrusts with the dragonlance, moving in perfect sync.
"Daughter, has Aegon said anything to you lately? About… other plans?" Aenar shielded his eyes with his hand, gazing skyward, his tone casual as he asked.
Daenys's expression flickered with surprise. "No, why? Did something happen?"
Aenar kept his eyes on the sky. "I saw that Aegon sent his guild manager, Ramon, to secretly stay in contact with Bloodsource Peak."
Daenys smiled faintly and replied easily, "He's probably making arrangements for how we'll evacuate the peninsula after he wins the Dragonlord battle."
"Is that so?" Aenar raised an eyebrow, glancing at her.
"Of course it is! I'm your daughter—would I lie to you?" Daenys pouted, feigning indignation.
"Yes, yes…" Aenar sighed and nodded quickly, surrendering with a helpless smile.
...
Aegon and Tiamat trained through the entire morning in the sky.
When they finally descended, Aegon joined Daenys and Aenar for lunch in the Dragonpit.
That afternoon, Aegon planned to fly to the city of Oros.
At one of Oros's seaports, a dragon knight named Jehzes of House Valerys had recently captured a rare Kraken. When Aegon heard the news, he didn't hesitate—he immediately ordered House Targaryen to purchase the creature at great expense.
Tiamat's [Greedy Feast] talent was currently at 7/10. After devouring the three dragons from House Aurélion, it had plateaued. But now, with a Kraken corpse several dozen meters long, there was enough mass to raise her feast level to 8/10.
Once preparations were complete, Aegon mounted Tiamat and departed from House Targaryen's Dragonpit.
Tiamat flew at full speed. With each massive beat of her wings, deafening winds howled around them. The rushing air roared like crashing waves, surging in relentless waves that battered the ears.
Aegon quickly activated the windshield in front of him, made from steel and enchanted glass.
He had specially designed this windscreen for long-distance flights. Without it, the powerful airflow would tear a person apart before they completed a single journey.
Once, Tiamat's flight speed had lagged behind Dreamshade's. But now, at over 200 meters in length, each beat of her wings produced more thrust than several of Dreamshade's flaps combined.
Tiamat now far outpaced Dreamshade—so much so that the gap between them had become a difference of orders of magnitude.
...
Oros wasn't heavily populated with Dragonlord families, but the dragon knight Jehzes of House Valerys was locally well known.
House Targaryen had already paid in full for the Kraken's carcass.
When Aegon arrived, everything was proceeding in order.
Jehzes led Aegon and Tiamat into a drydock at the harbor. There, Aegon laid eyes on one of the few creatures in the world whose size could rival a Dragon: the Kraken.
It looked like a monstrous squid, nearly a hundred meters long. Its immense body glistened with a strange red sheen under the torchlight.
Charred wounds still marred its flesh, evidence of the fierce battle that must have been waged to bring it down. House Valerys had clearly paid a high price for its capture.
Once the handover was complete, Aegon ordered Jehzes to clear all personnel from the drydock. Tiamat, wasting no time, began devouring the Kraken's corpse with hunger and gusto.
Only two days remain until the Champion Dragonbattle. Every bit of strength is a step toward victory, Aegon thought, watching with satisfaction as Tiamat's [Greedy Feast] climbed to 8/10.