The next day.
Myr Bay, the harbor.
Under Aemon's gaze, Aegon stood dejectedly by the seashore. Before departure, he was either adjusting his sagging armor or scratching his messy hair. Reluctance was written on his face.
"Don't worry, Your Majesty, I will take good care of Prince Aegon."
Captain Coin Corbray of the Runeguard arranged the warships and took the initiative to take on the trouble. The Runeguard are the counterparts of the Kingsguard and were originally the guards of His Royal Highness. Unfortunately, due to Aemon's superior military strength, the Runeguard successively took on important positions. Coin had been away from the Vale for a long time and was part-time as the commander of the Myr Navy.
"Just keep an eye on him and don't let him get away."
Aemon waved his hand.
"Leave it to me." Coin said with his head held high.
Aemon nodded slightly, but the look in his eyes was a little scrutinizing. The Corbray family is Andal, with blond hair and blue eyes. After generations of mixed blood, there are more black hair than blond hair.
Never mind the black or the yellow, stay away from my daughter, Aemon muttered to himself.
Coin didn't know at that moment that he would spend his life fighting in Myr, never returning to his home in the Vale.
"My armor still doesn't feel right!"
Aegon suddenly shouted, furious. Aemon turned to see him tugging at his armor, his face sullen and furious.
Aegon was furious!
SMACK!
A slap across Aegon's face, the resounding sound silencing the entire audience. Aegon stumbled, covering his face in shock.
"Are you feeling better?" Aemon's eyes sparkled.
"Yes," Aegon's gaze cleared. The memory of being punished by his cousin as a child flashed back to him. He obediently put on his armor, daring not to act rashly.
"Yes, a wise man knows how to handle the situation," Aemon grinned. But it was so bright that Aegon looked down, unable to bear to look.
"Aegon, we're here to see you off."
Aemon and Helena arrived together.
"Your Majesty." Grey Worm's face was solemn as he personally led the guards.
Aemon glanced over and spotted Gaemon mingling with the group. The little fellow hid behind the Unsullied, his large, earnest eyes observing the new things with curiosity.
"What are you doing here?" Seeing his younger siblings, Aegon's face drooped, then he returned to his usual self.
"Uh..." Aemond choked back.
Helena remained silent, maintaining her lucid sleepwalking state. The atmosphere between the three siblings was extremely awkward.
"Your armor is quite nice," Aemond managed to say after a long moment.
"That's right," Aegon boasted, wiping the hollow patterns on his silver armor with his hand. "When you become as powerful as me, you'll be worthy of the same armor."
"Haha." Aemond began to regret it. But it must be said that Aegon looked quite impressive in his armor. The silver armor paired with the green cloak made him look impressive wherever he walked.
"Just wait, I'll burn those vile Dornishmen and make my name known throughout the Seven Kingdoms." Aegon couldn't resist boasting.
"It depends on whether you kill more Dornishmen on the battlefield, or we defeat more remnants of the Three Women." Aemond was unconvinced, a sense of comparison rising.
Aegon's eyes rolled, and he put his arm around his younger brother's shoulders to speak. "Don't feel bad when I burn Dornishmen."
"Are you mad?" Aemond was stunned.
"Don't forget, the royal family still has a marriage planned for Prince Chorren's daughter." Aegon teased, shifting his gaze to his younger brother. "My marriage is almost settled, so who will marry the future Dornish princess?"
Aemond was forced to turn his head and see the quiet Helena. The meaning was simple. Aegon would marry Helena according to tradition, and he would marry Prince Chorren's daughter.
Crack!
Aemond's eyes darkened, and his fists clenched at his sides.
Being unable to do anything about the sister you love is a sign of being a minotaur.
"Hey, hey, I'll stop teasing you." Seeing his face dark as the bottom of a pot, Aegon decided to stop teasing him. He let go of his hand and said with a smile, "No need to send me off. I'm going to ride Sunfyre and wreak havoc on everyone."
With that, he turned and headed towards the open space at the harbor.
"Hoo!"
Sunfyre's pupils shone brightly, and its slender body crouched low to the ground. Seeing its rider, it neighed happily. Aegon walked up to the dragon, his eyes full of doting.
"Hoo..."
Sunfyre slowly lowered its head and coquettishly nudged its rider's chest with its snout. Aegon stepped back, grasped its snout and caressed it gently.
"What a beautiful dragon!" Gaemon praised, eyes sparkling, as he slipped out of the crowd.
"That might be the most beautiful dragon in the world," Aemon agreed, his tone tinged with regret.
Sunfyre! Teaming up with Vhagar to take down the Red Queen "Meleys," he single-handedly killed the wild dragon Greyshade while half-dead, and in a series of decisive battles, he killed the semi-adult dragon Moon Dance. Finally, he devoured Rhaenyra.
Looking at the entire Targaryen family, their record was quite impressive. The Dance of the Dragons season ended, and everyone settled their scores. Sunfyre was named MVP.
What? You're saying Vhagar killed Arrax and the Red Queen, then traded for Caraxes? What a winner!
"Aegon and Sunfyre…" Aemon's words were harsh, but I'll leave them alone. If it weren't for the better option of Vermithor, he would have chosen Sunfyre without hesitation.
Strength is a matter of meta; it grows with time. But handsomeness is a lifelong thing.
Vermithor's genes carry something special. Not only is it special in itself, but after defeating powerful dragons one after another, it possesses the power of a king over other dragons. Even its two direct descendants, Syrax and Sunfyre, are extraordinary. Topaz is the color of a seal, and gold symbolizes a crown, both symbols of power.
"Fly, Sunfyre!"
Aegon roared as he climbed onto the dragon's back. Sunfyre pushed back, flapping her magnificent pale pink wings and soaring into the air. With a roar... ten warships cut through the sea, heading out of Myr Firth.
Aemon said nothing, looking up. One dragon and a thousand sailors were more than enough to roam freely in the blockaded area of the Narrows. The Sea Snakes had already been dispatched, launching a sweeping counterattack across the lower half of the Narrows. Aegon's encounter with even a small band of pirates was a stroke of luck; pure gilding of merit.
"Alas," Aemon sighed, his hands clasped behind his back. He truly worried about this family.
Gaemon didn't understand, simply gazing at the golden dragon receding into the distance. Even at such a young age, his eyes were filled with admiration and longing for dragons.
However, Gaemon frowned. His mother said he couldn't have a dragon yet. Did he have to wait until his aunt was old enough?
Gaemon turned, repeatedly examining the sullen Aemond. His uncle didn't have a dragon either. But his aunt was only a year older. Did he have to be twelve to get a dragon?
The little one didn't know that his brothers and sisters had dragon eggs in their cradles.
"Helena, you can leave too," Aemon said, pressing Gaemon's little head to remind her that they were leaving.
"Yes," Aemond said, full of energy. He had to complete his mission quickly and return to Westeros to continue his dragon-taming feat.
Damn Aegon, he better not come back. Let the Dornish take him as their son-in-law!
Time flew by, and several days passed.
Aegon, riding Sunfyre, patrolled the waters of the Stepstones. Suddenly, a small black speck appeared in the distance, growing larger and closer.
"Wait a minute, Sunfyre!"
Aegon stretched his neck, eager to see more clearly. He had been flying for days without even seeing a single Dornishman, and he was almost bored out of his mind.
"It has to be the Dornish," Aegon prayed silently.
Because of the Dornish marriage, he considered the Dornish an imaginary enemy, hoping to win and show off his power back home. The two sides were getting closer and closer, and Aegon, from his high vantage point, could finally see the incoming forces. There were five or six ships of various types, with pirates in tattered clothes standing on the decks.
The sails fluttered on the masts, and a golden squid bared its teeth and claws.
"Ironborn?"
Aegon said unhappily. A group of poor, barbaric pirates living in the Iron Islands. Judging from the flags, it looked like a ship of House Greyjoy. House Greyjoy, known as the "sea monster", was also a famous family in Westeros. They controlled the Iron Islands and held the same status as a duke of a realm. Lannisterport in the Westerlands, Oldtown in the Reach, and the Arbor—all were harassed relentlessly by the ironborn, ruled by House Greyjoy.
Since there were no Dornishmen, the Greyjoys were no problem. With this thought in mind, Aegon yanked the saddle reins and excitedly shouted, "Charge, Sunfyre!"
He spoke in fluent Common Tongue, and Sunfyre froze beneath him for a moment.
"Shhh!"
Three seconds later, Sunfyre reacted, flapping its wings and diving.
"Victory, hahaha!" Aegon kept shouting, while Sunfyre handled the situation automatically.
Elsewhere, the Ironborn fleet sailed slowly, unaware of the danger.
"Watch your course, don't run into those Velaryon bastards!" On the deck, a slender, dark-haired young man, glaring fiercely with his single eye, shouted fiercely. Emblazoned on his salt-soaked, open-chested vest was a golden squid, the symbol of House Greyjoy.
"Yes, Lord Ram."
The other Ironborn lowered their heads, fearing to inadvertently anger the other. Ram Greyjoy, the second son of Jakaron Greyjoy, Lord of the Iron Islands, inherited his father's brutal and perverse character. At the age of twelve, he followed his father to sea to earn iron money. This meant plundering and looting.
"Quiet your words. I don't want to hear your women's nagging." Ram held a bottle in one hand and a scimitar in the other, but neither could suppress the restlessness and turmoil within him.
For a Greyjoy as outstanding as he was, his father, Jakaron, had five children. The third died while sailing, and the fourth was accidentally beaten to death by Jakaron in a drunken stupor. And his dear brother, unexpectedly, died in this operation, slaughtered by the bastards of House Velaryon. Now, Lord Ram was the legal heir to the Iron Islands.
Of course, he had to find his beaten father first to confirm whether he had died at the hands of a Velaryon.
"I must return safely," Ramuh was determined, a flicker of greed in his eyes. "Before that, let's earn some iron."
A distinguished ironborn never returns empty-handed. The stronger the wind and waves, the greater the profit.
Suddenly, a flash of light shone on the horizon, dazzling against the azure sky. Ramuh looked up in surprise.
"Dragon!" Before his single eye could see clearly, the lookout let out a horrified cry.
In an instant, chaos ensued on the ship.
"Hiss!"
With a roar, Sunfyre's shapely body swooped down like an indestructible golden arrow. The sight terrified the Ironborn. They had witnessed the terrifying power of the dragon during its first raid on a merchant ship in Tyrosh waters. It was a pale silver dragon, with wings that obscured the sun, razor-sharp claws, and a mouth that spurted orange-yellow flames tinged with silver. The captain of the neighboring ship, Lord Jakaron's eldest son, was incinerated in a single encounter. At that moment, the disparity between the sea monster and the dragon was clear.
"Don't run! Shake your heads straight!" Ram, seeing things were going badly, quickly grabbed the sail ropes and cursed. With no way to retreat, the Ironborn had no choice but to fight, grabbing their longbows and crossbows. On this vast ocean, there was no escape.
"Attack the enemy! Aim!" Ram ran to the deck, pushed aside the struggling crossbowmen, and seized control of the scorpion crossbows. His one eye fixed on the golden dragon, sweat dripping from his stinking hand gripping the trigger.
Of course, the ironborn didn't have such high-end equipment; it was all donated by kindhearted individuals. Facing a dragon for the first time, Ram, who had experienced such cruelty, was terrified.
"Dragon flame, sun flame!" Aegon gripped the dragon saddle handle tightly and shouted at the top of his voice.
Seeing that I refused to surrender, the enemy resisted, showing no regard for him.
"Hiss!" Sunfyre responded repeatedly.
"Damn monster, die!" Ram's face darkened as he aimed at the golden dragon and pulled the trigger.
Crack!
The steel spear flew out, the recoil knocking Ram back, only to watch it pierce the air with unstoppable force. With such speed, even a dragon wouldn't be able to dodge it, right? Ram's single eye widened in anticipation.
But then, "Shhh!"
Sunfyre dove headfirst from the sky, his slender body incredibly flexible, easily swerving to avoid the steel spear. Then, his dragon form descended over the fleet, a pair of pale pink wings enveloping the ironborn.
Boom—
Golden dragon flames erupted, unleashing a merciless slaughter.
"Ah! No!"
Ram, facing the dragon flames, screamed, unable to escape, and was engulfed in the golden glow. Sunfyre flapped her wings and rushed towards the cluster of ironborn, spewing fire. Every arrow fired back was dodged or consumed by dragonfire. Even a blind cat catching a dead mouse couldn't penetrate the golden scales' defense.
High against low, magic versus cold weapons. In a matter of moments, Sunfyre circled several shabby warships, incinerating most of the men aboard.
"Well done, Sunfyre," Aegon laughed heartily. Defeating the infamous Greyjoy in a single round—they were truly impressive. No, it was his skill.
"Shhh!"
Sunfyre, tired of blasting dragonfire, flapped his wings and turned away.
"Hey, it's not over yet," Aegon frantically exasperated. How could he give up halfway?
Sunfyre glanced back at the driver, mumbling something incomprehensible, probably a compliment. Brightening his mood, he turned and burned the shabby warships to the ground. The ironborn who had managed to jump overboard suffered. They were either crushed to death by the burning planks or boiled in the scalding waters.
"Gah!"
Sunfyre, content, drove the rider away.
"I'll slaughter a sheep for you back home."
Seeing this, Aegon was overjoyed. Man and dragon, unable to speak the same language, had somehow reached a tacit understanding.
Myr.
Cuidu, Council Hall.
Johanna sat sideways, quietly reading. A black-striped shadowcat lay at its feet, its front paws draped in front of it, lazily licking its fur.
Near noon, Johanna's eyes grew sore. She put down her book and pressed the cat's belly barefoot. Coal Ball obediently turned over its belly, a purring purr emanating from its throat.
Not far away, Helena, her attention drawn away from the bottles and jars, glanced at Johanna, who was caressing the cat with all her heart. She wasn't envious at all. She had a large, plump, soft red rabbit, a far more suitable companion than a shadowcat. It was a pet lent to her by Aemon. After having her nieces, Baena and Rhaena, she had even written to her mother asking for one.
Helena raised her chin. No! Her favorite treasure from childhood was taken away by Aemon, and he still hadn't said he would give it back to her. She wouldn't give back the rabbit she had earned with her own merit.
Knock, knock, knock—
There was a knock on the door, and Diana and Grey Worm came in together.
"What's the matter?" Johanna asked.
Helena blinked, silently paying attention.
"News from Lake-town."
Diana and Grey Worm looked at each other. The latter puffed out his chest and said solemnly: "Prince Aemon encountered a group of Tyroshi mercenaries. The Second Sons defeated them and led their troops out of Myrland."
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