Shira's broad dragon wings cleaved through the gray clouds, soaring above the sea of smoke.
Ramon glanced back, and the withered, desolate land of Valyria gradually blurred in his vision.
The Summer Sea, usually so vibrant, now looked docile and peaceful, with a few fishing boats on its shimmering surface turning frantically, their raised sails like schools of sardines chased by sharks, scattering in all directions.
The outline of Volantis Harbor rapidly expanded in his view.
Half a year ago, he had secretly sailed alone from here on a smuggler's ship to that legendary land. Now, he returned, riding a giant dragon.
When Shira's enormous shadow, like a dark cloud, enveloped the entire dock, it instantly triggered chaos: the unloading slaves screamed, some dropping their heavy sacks and scurrying away, hands over their heads, while many more prostrated themselves on the ground, trembling. The entire city seemed to tremble under the ancient beast's majesty.
"Shira, land," Ramon tightened the dragon's reins, his voice calm but with an undeniable power.
The giant dragon let out a low growl, circled once in the air, and its wings stirred up a violent airflow, actually overturning three merchant ships docked at the pier.
The port immediately erupted in terrified screams. Amidst the chaotic crowd, his sharp gaze easily caught a few familiar yet distorted faces—the old merchant who had tried to snatch his shop, now slumped on the ground, trembling; and his always arrogant half-brother, Ayden, whose characteristic golden hair was flailing desperately in the crowd as he tried to squeeze into a ship's cabin to hide, his exquisite cloak embroidered with an elephant head crest now frantically tugged and hanging askew on the ship's railing, looking both ridiculous and pathetic.
Shira suddenly let out a low purr, sniffing towards the meat shop on the dock. Ramon realized his companion needed to eat.
His gaze swept over the crowd, settling on a fat man hastily adjusting his formal attire—Roman Bilis, a stingy merchant he had dealt with before, who seemed to be at the dock to check his goods.
"Mr. Roman?" Ramon's voice carried a hint of deliberate playfulness, cutting through the noise, "What a coincidence. Please prepare some cattle and sheep; Shira has traveled a long way and needs a hearty meal."
Roman's corpulent body trembled violently, his face instantly plastered with an extremely fawning smile, sweat beads almost rolling down his forehead: "At your command! Your Highness! This humble servant... this humble servant is deeply honored! To be able to serve the great Dragon King is not only my fortune but also the supreme glory of the Bilis family!"
Having said that, he suddenly turned to his subordinates, roaring sternly, spitting saliva: "Idiots! Are you deaf?! Hurry up and go drive the cattle and sheep over! If you delay the great dragon's meal, I'll take your lives!"
Ramon watched the fat man, whose face changed faster than flipping a book, recalling the information "Shadow" had collected about him: this man was famously stingy, even haggling with prostitutes. Yet, ironically, all the properties under this miser's name had never withheld workers' wages.
"He's a shrewd character," Ramon mused, "Greedy within limits, seemingly bad... with some bottom line. Perhaps... I can take him under my wing." A thought quietly emerged.
Roman's subordinates were highly efficient. Soon, more than ten oxen were roughly driven to the open ground, snorting in terror and flicking their tails. When the giant dragon swooped down again, the onlookers let out another deafening gasp and burst into chaos.
However, Shira restrained her might, like a docile large cat, landing so lightly that she didn't even crack a single paving stone. She was unhurried, instantly roasting an ox with a burst of flame, swallowing it whole in a few bites, and then calmly proceeding to the next, her posture poised.
Ramon dismounted the dragon's back, his armored boots thudding against the ground. He looked up, his gaze sweeping over the agitated crowd, settling on the mottled archway at the end of the harbor.
Senela Targaryen stood there, flanked by Ramon's three nominal half-brothers. Her face was exquisite; time seemed to have left no trace on her features. She wore a perfectly tailored ivory silk gown, her silver hair styled into a complex and elegant chignon, and the pearl earrings dangling by her ears swayed gently in the breeze.
A maid held a baby, standing timidly behind her. Ayden's hand was pressed tightly on his sword hilt, his knuckles white; Yuren clenched his fists, his eyes filled with tension and hostility; and Joffrey, hiding behind the two, when he caught sight of Shira's majestic form, a greedy glint flashed in his eyes, but when the dragon's cold gaze turned to him, he instantly collapsed to the ground as if his bones had been removed, his face ashen.
"Mother, long time no see," Ramon spoke, his voice unexpectedly calm, the anticipated awkwardness not arriving as expected.
Senela's deep purple eyes coldly swept over his black armor and the sword at his waist, finally resting on the giant dragon beside him.
"You actually found a dragon," her voice, like her person, was as calm as an unfathomably deep cold pond, "Allowing you to bear the Targaryen name back then was merely out of a bit of malice... I never expected you to become a true dragon. Fate, that bitch... is truly fickle." A faint curve touched her lips, "I heard that fool from the Bisbury family say... that you dug it out of the ruins of Valyria?"
Ramon stared intently into her eyes, trying to find even the slightest emotional fluctuation behind those hazy purple mists—anticipation? Regret? Surprise? Even anger? However, there was nothing.
She was always like this, giving superficial attention to every child, yet stingy with true warmth. Even... now that he was a Dragon Rider.
"Indeed," he responded in a deep voice, tightening his grip on the sword hilt, then suddenly turned and shouted, "Shira!" The giant dragon looked up at the sound, its slender neck elegantly raised, and a blazing silver-white dragon flame, like a sword piercing the sky, shot straight into the clouds! Dazzling light and immense heat swept over them. Ayden staggered back half a step in surprise, his hand instinctively gripping his sword hilt, but when Ramon's icy gaze swept over him, he recoiled as if burned, hiding his hand in a panic, looking utterly disheveled.
"Where's Vera?" Ramon asked, shifting his gaze.
"She's in the back," Senela's tone was dismissive, as if discussing an insignificant object, "She's not a slave anymore; she's an employee I hired... After all, slaves aren't qualified to raise a Dragon King." She glanced into the depths of the crowd, adding.
Before she finished speaking, Ramon's gaze had pierced through the crowd, firmly locking onto that figure. Vera, her graying hair hidden beneath the old headscarf from half a year ago, her apron stained with flour. She quickly glanced at Ramon, then deeply lowered her head, humbly saying in that hoarse yet familiar voice, "Your Highness Ramon... welcome back..."
A strong pang of sorrow suddenly welled up in Ramon's nostrils. Vera's rough hands, the grime embedded in her fingernails... but her eyes, still like two flickering torches, warm and bright, as if they could completely melt the lingering cold ice deep within his heart. "Auntie..." Before he could finish, Vera, like a startled rabbit, turned pale and fell heavily to her knees with a thud: "Your Highness! This humble servant is but a lowly maidservant; I absolutely cannot bear such a title from Your Highness! Please withdraw it!"
"Auntie Vera!" Ramon's voice suddenly rose, carrying an undeniable power and uncontrollable heartache. He strode forward, grasping Vera's thin arm and forcefully helping her up, "Listen! You are not a slave, nor have you ever been a lowly servant! You are my elder! My family! No one has the right to make you kneel! Including me!"
Vera, supported by him, looked at the determination and weariness etched on the young man's brow before her, feeling the undeniable resolve revealed in his strength, and the heavy stone in her heart finally dropped.
She knew that this child, whom she had raised herself, though his temperament was now like tempered steel, having shed the innocence and naivety of the past, the stubbornness and loyalty at his core remained unchanged.