Life in Braavos froze in an instant.
Boatmen on the canals forgot their oars, gaping upward at the massive crimson beast that blotted out the sky.
Dock laborers dropped their heavy loads, screaming in terror.
Pedestrians, merchants, and sailors on the streets stopped dead in their tracks, pointing at the sky, their faces filled with shock and disbelief.
"A dragon! It's a dragon!"
"By the gods! It's heading for the Isle of the Gods!"
"Run for your lives!"
Panic spread rapidly.
Screams, cries, and the sounds of crashing objects echoed through the streets.
The Braavos guards saw the terrifying sight as well. Pale-faced, they struggled to maintain order while frantically sounding the alarm. They dispatched messengers to the Sealord's Palace to report the dragon's approach.
Just then, Arya emerged from an alleyway and saw the scene, horror flashing in her eyes.
It was the Eastern king, riding a dragon!
Blooddancer soared over the House of Black and White.
Lo Quen coldly surveyed the solitary temple of the Many-Faced God. With a thought, Blooddancer reared its massive head, and a torrent of fiery dragonflame erupted, scorching the outer walls of the House.
"BOOM!"
The flames surged skyward! The ancient stones groaned in agony under the extreme heat, rapidly blackening, cracking, and even melting.
Deep within the House of Black and White, in a lightless underground sanctuary, a group of robed figures stood around a blazing furnace.
The fire was not for warmth, but to bake three fossilized dragon eggs covered in scales.
These fossils were the payment for others who had hired the Faceless Men.
Leading them was the priest known as the "Kindly Man."
Surrounding him were several other Faceless Men, including those nicknamed "The Handsome Man," "The Stern Face," and "The Fat Fellow."
Surprisingly, Jaqen H'ghar was also present, his half-red, half-white hair looking eerie in the flickering flames.
He had just completed a difficult task.
He had stolen what was said to be Barth Septon's research on hatching dragon eggs from the Citadel.
When they succeeded in the theft, their mood had been filled with anticipation and joy.
However, after reading the ancient scrolls, the atmosphere in the sanctuary shifted to one of confusion and unease.
"The Handsome Man" looked at the thief who had brought back the scrolls, his voice dry with disbelief. "Are you sure what you brought back is alright?"
Jaqen H'ghar shrugged, his expression unreadable. "It's the real deal. This is the ultimate secret about dragons, hidden deep in the Citadel's forbidden zones. I had to use a key from an Archmaester to get it."
"The Stern Face" furrowed his brow. "This book says hatching a dragon requires... cutting off one's manhood. I wonder if that Eastern king used the same method to hatch his dragon? Then why bother marrying seven queens?"
"The Fat Fellow" looked thoughtful, his plump fingers rubbing his chin. "Perhaps... after the Easterner cut it off, he used black magic from Asshai to grow another? After all, he comes from the mysterious East—anything is possible."
This suggestion sent a chill through the room, leaving the Faceless Men speechless.
Just as the heavy silence and confusion filled the air, the entire sanctuary suddenly shook violently.
Dust and debris rained down from above!
The Kindly Man snapped his head up. "What's happening?"
The sanctuary doors burst open, and the priest 'Waif' rushed in, her usually calm face twisted with rare panic. "It's that Easterner! He's riding a dragon and attacking the temple with Dragonfire outside!"
"What?!"
"Handsome Man" gasped in shock. "Didn't Starved Man go to kill him? Did he fail?"
"Stern Face" responded grimly, "If he succeeded, there wouldn't be a dragon seeking vengeance outside!"
'Waif' urged urgently, "We must leave immediately! His dragonfire is scorching hot. The temple won't hold out much longer—it will be completely incinerated!"
The Kindly Man's gaze immediately fixed on the three dragon eggs still baking in the furnace. "These eggs must be taken!"
The Faceless Men snapped out of their shock and scrambled to act. Frantically grabbing water, they doused the furnace, ignoring the searing heat as they swiftly wrapped the still-blazing dragon eggs in cloth and stuffed them into a sturdy bag.
Rumble—!
The tremors overhead grew increasingly violent, the incessant crash of falling boulders making the entire subterranean sanctuary feel as if it could collapse at any moment.
Jaqen H'ghar's face turned deathly pale. "Move! If we don't leave now, we'll all be buried alive!"
Everyone's expressions changed drastically. Nothing else mattered anymore.
The Kindly Man grabbed the bag containing the dragon eggs and dashed toward a concealed Bronze door at the back of the sanctuary. The others followed closely behind.
Pushing open the Bronze doors revealed a narrow stone staircase descending into darkness. They filed through one by one, swiftly disappearing into the shadowy passageway.
Barely moments after their departure, a deafening roar erupted. Blinding flames shot skyward as the main structure of the House of Black and White, unable to withstand the relentless scorching of Dragonfire, collapsed in a thunderous crash.
This sanctuary of assassins was reduced to a burning ruin by Lo Quen's fury.
Mounted on Blooddancer, Lo Quen coldly gazed down at the House of Black and White, now a sea of flames and rubble.
For these assassins who dared to attempt an assassination and challenge his authority on his wedding day, destroying their lair was merely the lightest of punishments.
What he demanded, however, was the lives of every Faceless Man.
Just then, sharp bugle calls echoed from all directions.
Braavos's guard had finally arrived in full force.
A lavishly decorated flatboat approached, carrying a middle-aged nobleman dressed in rich finery, his expression tense—Tormo Fregar.
"Your Grace, from the Land of the Three Daughters!"
Tormo forced his voice to remain steady. "Why did you brazenly attack Braavos? Assault the Isle of the Gods? Could there be some misunderstanding?"
"Misunderstanding?"
Lo Quen's voice was icy. "The Faceless Men attempted an assassination at my wedding. Is that a misunderstanding?"
Tormo Fregar froze, his face filled with bewilderment.
It was no secret that the Faceless Men took assassination contracts, but their work was always done in secrecy, leaving no trace.
He hadn't expected the target to survive, nor for them to be tracked here with such precision.
He forced a defense. "Your Grace, the actions of the Faceless Men were not sanctioned by Braavos. Your assault gravely disrupts Braavos's peace and sanctity!"
Lo Quen sneered coldly. "I care not who ordered it. They came from here, so I sought them here. As for peace?"
He patted Blooddancer's neck. The red dragon let out a threatening growl.
"I've already shattered it. What can you possibly do about it?"