Inside the shipyard, the sound of savage chewing echoed now and then—flesh being torn apart and then ground between powerful jaws, a noise that sent shivers down the spine.
Aegon and Jehzes stood together just outside.
"Care for one?"
Jehzes offered Aegon a stick of fragrant resin, a potent kind of tobacco favored by Valyrian nobles.
Aegon gave a small shake of his head and raised a hand to decline.
Seeing this, Jehzes smiled faintly, tucked the resin back into his sleeve, and leaned in slightly. "I heard you've been paying top coin for high-grade magical creature corpses. The Mother of Dragons really has a... unique appetite."
Aegon simply gave a thin smile and said nothing.
Tiamat's tendency to devour other dragons was no secret—on the Valyrian Peninsula, it had long been widely known.
"Well, a dragon's still a kind of magical beast, after all," Jehzes went on, gesturing animatedly as he spoke. "And speaking of that—I happen to have a dragon I'd like to sell you. You won't even need to spend a single copper. In fact, House Valerys will pay you generously. So... are you interested?"
Aegon watched him with quiet amusement, as if evaluating both the offer and the theatrics that came with it.
"Sounds almost too good to be true."
Jehzes's smile brightened instantly. "Of course it's true. This dragon is fat and strong—sure to please the Mother of Dragons. It's just that..."
Aegon cut in, "Just that the dragon belongs to your rival house, doesn't it?"
In ancient times, House Valerys and House Valentine of Castle Oros had once been close kin, but over time, they had become fierce commercial and political rivals. By the present day, the two houses had become bitter enemies. Aegon had thoroughly investigated Jehzes's background before even entering talks with House Valerys.
"Prince Aegon, you're as sharp as they say," Jehzes laughed. "But rest assured—this won't cause trouble for you or the Mother of Dragons. You'll get the corpse, and our house's friendship besides."
"How do I know this isn't a trap from the Dragonlord Council?" Aegon fixed him with a sharp gaze. "Dragonhunting on the island is a major crime."
"I've planned for that. As soon as the hunt begins, I'll send all my sons to the main fortress of House Targaryen as foster children. If you win the Champion Dragonbattle, your prestige as Champion Dragonlord will be untouchable. No one will risk challenging you over something like this."
Jehzes laid out the plan without hesitation.
After a moment's thought, Aegon replied, "From this moment on, stay within my sight. I'll take care of House Valentine's dragon for you."
Jehzes was visibly thrilled, grabbing Aegon's hand with both of his. "No problem! It's my honor to fight by your side. I'll immediately arrange to send the boys to House Targaryen. I know the Dragonbattle is in two days—and tomorrow, House Valentine has a fleet scheduled to sail with critical cargo. That'll be the perfect time to strike."
Aegon gave a slight nod. "Let's hope this is the start of a solid alliance."
"You won't be disappointed," Jehzes replied earnestly.
...
As night fell, Aegon stayed in the shipyard with Jehzes by his side. The two drank together, then rested, quietly awaiting the signal from House Valerys.
The next day, the Valentine fleet departed from Castle Oros on schedule.
Once the ships had sailed far from the mainland and into the open sea, Aegon and Jehzes mounted their dragons and silently circled ahead of the fleet's path.
Then the hunt began.
Tiamat and Jehzes's silver dragon charged straight at the two adult dragons escorting the fleet.
At the peak of her power, a Dragonlord like Tiamat was far beyond anything a pair of ordinary adult dragons could withstand. The outcome of the battle was never in question—it was over in a matter of moments.
With the enemy dragons eliminated, Jehzes took charge of the fleet assault. They had no intention of capturing it—too risky. Instead, they staged the scene to resemble an accidental sinking. No survivors, no witnesses, and no trail left behind.
Tiamat dove repeatedly, tearing into dragon flesh as she feasted.
On Aegon's real-time data panel, the [Greedy Feast] skill ticked up to a full 10/10. If she wanted to evolve further through devouring, the next target would have to be a Dragonlord.
Thanks to Aegon's overwhelming support—like a dragon crossing the river—House Valerys had successfully crippled House Valentine's strength. And Tiamat gained two more layers of [Greedy Feast] in the process. House Valerys would also pay a handsome sum in compensation for Aegon's assistance.
The dragon hunt was a complete success.
...
Upon returning to House Targaryen, Aegon saw the two legitimate sons of House Valerys, who had already been delivered to the main keep by dragonback during the night. Before the gathered members of House Targaryen, Aenar welcomed the children as foster sons and formally accepted the role of their godfather.
There was now only one day left until the Champion Dragonbattle.
...
After returning home, Aegon took a long, restful sleep.
The next morning, he was tended to with care by Daenylis and Illya. He donned his fish-scale steel armor, took up the newly forged Bloodfire Valyrian steel sword, and received a special backpack handed over by a Targaryen tailor.
Inside the backpack was a simple parachute—hurriedly crafted by the family's master tailor and yet untested. With the Dragonbattle looming, Aegon had no choice but to treat it as a last-resort means of survival.
Together with Aenar and the others who had been waiting, Aegon made his way to the Targaryen family's Dragonpit.
Under the expectant gazes of the entire household, Tiamat slowly unfurled her immense wings and launched into the sky.
Daenys rode Dreamshade like a flickering mirage, gracefully keeping pace beside Tiamat.
Balerion and another dragon of the house followed close behind as the group of dragons soared toward the grasslands of Valyria.
To the northeast of Valyria, beyond the Fourteen Flames, stretched a vast, boundless grassland. According to historical records from the Freehold, this was the ancestral land where the earliest Valyrians had lived a pastoral life.
Led by the sage Pan, those nomadic Valyrians had entered the region of the Fourteen Flames, thus beginning the long and glorious era of the dragonlords.
Now, across the plains, tents had been pitched in neat but scattered formations, providing shelter for the gathered spectators.
Many dragons rested on the cliffs of Ancestral Peak, the nearest height to the grasslands. Some held their heads high, others crouched low, quietly observing the scene below.
The Dragonlord Council, along with many members of the Freehold's great dragonlord houses, had gathered on the viewing platform of Ancestral Peak. With an unmatched vantage point of the entire plains, it was the best possible location from which to watch the Champion Dragonbattle.
"Roar!" A deep, resounding dragon's call tore through the blue sky as Tiamat's massive, overwhelming form soared above the plains. Her body stretched close to 300 meters—ten times the size of an average dragon. Whether among the crowd on the plains or the onlookers atop Ancestral Peak, awe swept through the masses, and gasps and exclamations rippled outward like waves.
"The Mother of Dragons is growing at an unbelievable rate!" the head of House Edderion exclaimed in shock.
"Could devouring its own kind really make a dragon grow faster?" another family head murmured to himself.
"If you have an old dragon, try feeding it to a young one," someone muttered from the side.
"You're all insane..." the head of House Aurélion snapped irritably.
At the center of the grasslands, a golden dragon more than 200 meters long lay sprawled on the ground. This was Idas, the Golden-scaled Dragonlord of House Belaerys. Sensing Tiamat's provocative arrival, Idas raised his massive head and let out a thunderous roar toward the red dragon in the sky, the sound shaking the earth.
Then, with a powerful flap of his golden wings, Idas began to sprint across the grass, building up speed. Amid deafening roars, he surged into the sky.
The crowd below erupted in cheers, shouting for the Champion Dragonlord. Even before the battle had begun, the atmosphere had reached its peak—cheers and cries blending into a tide of sound that rolled across the plains.
Aegon stared solemnly at the Golden-scaled Dragonlord. Though slightly smaller than Tiamat, the opponent's combat experience was unquestionably superior, which could very well offset their difference in size.
At that moment, on the viewing platform of Ancestral Peak, a figure slowly materialized from a swirl of red fragments—it was Pan, the most mysterious and venerated elder of the Freehold, deeply respected among Valyrians.
His steps were steady as he walked across the air itself, ascending slowly toward the sky above the grasslands. Though his movements seemed unhurried, in just a few paces he had positioned himself squarely between the two great Dragonlords.
Now, the Golden Dragonlord circled to his left, and the red dragon Tiamat hovered to his right. Both mighty dragons had quieted their previous roars, awaiting the elder's announcement with solemn stillness.
Pan's expression was grave. He slowly drew an ancient-looking dragonbone dagger from his waist and, without hesitation, sliced open his palm. Crimson blood flowed instantly from the wound, and with a flick, he scattered the blood into the sky. In an instant, the droplets burst into mist, expanding rapidly into a dense blood fog. The crimson haze spread outward, forming a colossal ring several kilometers wide, casting a vast dome over the plains below.
"During the Dragonbattle, neither dragon may leave this blood ward. This is the only rule. Breaking it will mean defeat." Pan's voice, as melodic as ever, still rang out with perfect clarity, reaching every ear present.
Then he raised his voice slightly, solemnity filling his tone: "Today, I am honored to present to the ancestral spirits the Golden-scaled Dragonlord of House Belaerys—Idas—who holds the record for the most consecutive victories in the history of the Freehold."
"Idas!"
"Idas!"
The crowd below erupted again, their passion stoked by Pan's rousing words. Wave after wave of cheers surged skyward—so loud that even Aegon, hundreds of meters above, could hear them clearly.
Pan extended his right arm, proudly pointing toward the imposing red dragon, and declared:
"And this one is the new blood of the Freehold, a Dragonlord newly returned from the sacred Fourteen Flames—the youngest and largest Mother of Evil Dragons—Tiamat!
The ancestors dwell in the depths. The Dragonlord's blood has been offered. The Champion Dragonbattle begins!"