Chapter 197: Stripped Bare
"Rhaegal! Viserion!"
Watching the two dragons in the distance still busy hunting sea serpents and giant octopus creatures, Daenerys instinctively called out for help.
But the moment the words left her mouth, she realized how futile it was.
Rhaegal and Viserion could handle sea serpents and lesser monsters.
The colossal creature battling Drogon was another matter entirely.
Not only would they be unable to help him, they might end up needing Drogon to protect them instead.
She had heard the Ironborn shouting and praying to the Drowned God.
Though she wasn't certain whether the squid-like monstrosity truly was the deity of Ironborn legend, one thing was obvious.
Judging by its immense size alone, it existed on the same level as Drogon.
After calling out to the two dragons, Daenerys fell silent.
All she could do was stand on the deck, ignoring the danger around her, and watch anxiously as Drogon fought the sea god upon the waves.
As he crashed into the ocean, Drogon immediately blasted a stream of dragonfire toward the creature.
The Drowned God dodged with ease.
At the same time, its massive body began descending deeper into the sea, dragging Drogon with it.
Drogon instantly understood its intention.
It wanted to pull him into the depths.
There was no way he could allow that.
Using claws, teeth, and even dragonfire despite the pain it caused himself, he desperately tore at the tentacles binding him.
If he allowed himself to be dragged to the ocean floor, escaping afterward would become nearly impossible.
Several tentacles were ripped apart one after another.
Yet even so, he continued sinking deeper beneath the waves.
Soon, only occasional splashes disturbed the surface.
Then even those disappeared.
Standing at the railing and staring at the increasingly calm ocean, Daenerys felt her heart tighten.
She was helpless.
There was nothing she could do.
"More ships approaching from the south!"
The lookout aboard the flagship suddenly shouted.
Daenerys tore her gaze away from the sea where Drogon had vanished.
With tears still lingering in her eyes, she raised a spyglass.
What she saw immediately darkened her expression.
More than two hundred warships were sailing toward them.
When she recognized the banners flying from their masts, her face grew cold.
"How are the Lannister fleets here?"
Her voice trembled with anger.
"Jaime hasn't even returned to King's Landing yet. Cersei has already broken the agreement and sent her forces!"
After speaking, she handed the spyglass to Tyrion.
Frowning deeply, he examined the approaching ships.
Sure enough.
The golden lion banners of House Lannister fluttered proudly in the wind.
A chill spread through his heart.
"They planned this from the beginning..."
His voice grew heavy.
"This wasn't an opportunistic attack. They intended to ambush and eliminate us here."
He paused for a moment before continuing.
"The soldiers stationed on Tarth's eastern approaches and the garrisons guarding the Gullet may already be..."
Tyrion didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
Everyone present understood what he meant.
If the Lannister fleet had appeared here in force, then the defensive positions controlling access to the Narrow Sea had likely already been neutralized.
This wasn't simply an attack.
It was a carefully orchestrated trap.
A trap involving sea monsters, allied fleets from the Free Cities, and now the full weight of the Lannister navy.
And at the center of it all—
The one they truly wanted dead—
Was Drogon.
The fleet stationed at Tarth had only a little over a hundred warships.
There was no way they could withstand the full might of King's Landing's navy.
"If we survive this battle," Daenerys said through clenched teeth, her face dark with fury, "I'll make Cersei pay for this."
They had only just defeated the Night King.
There hadn't even been time to celebrate.
First came the sea monsters.
Then several of the Free Cities—states that had once shown her respect—had sent fleets against her.
Now Cersei had openly violated the truce agreement.
How could Daenerys not be furious?
Though the words weren't directed at him, Tyrion lowered his head.
He silently wondered how a situation that had seemed so favorable only days ago had deteriorated into disaster.
On one of Dragonstone's warships, Melisandre stood watching the chaotic battle unfolding across the sea.
Gradually, she began to understand something.
Yet she had no desire to interfere.
Turning away, she descended into the cabin and quietly waited for the outcome.
Bran had made much the same choice.
Earlier, Meera had already pushed his wheelchair below deck, away from the fighting.
When the Lannister fleet joined the battle, the balance of power shifted immediately.
Dragonstone's forces, which had previously held a slight advantage, suddenly found themselves on the defensive.
Fortunately, Rhaegal and Viserion had already finished clearing out the giant octopus creatures and returned to Daenerys's flagship.
Without hesitation, she ordered the two dragons to attack the enemy fleets.
Beneath the sea, Drogon continued sinking deeper and deeper.
Yet with every passing moment, he was also drawing closer to the Drowned God.
Finding an opening, he unleashed another stream of dragonfire.
Though weakened by the surrounding water, the black flames still clung to the creature's tentacles, burning them down to barely a third of their original size.
Holding his breath, Drogon used the damaged tentacles like ropes, pulling the monster closer.
The Drowned God quickly realized what he was trying to do.
It released the massive tentacles that had bound Drogon's wings and instead extended them, attempting to widen the distance between them once more.
Drogon wasn't about to allow that.
While his flames consumed the creature's longest appendages, he dragged himself forward using the remaining shorter ones.
Soon he was close enough.
Another blast of dragonfire erupted.
This time, the Drowned God couldn't evade completely.
The base of several tentacles was scorched away.
Drogon immediately hauled himself closer and fired again.
The sea god twisted desperately.
The flames narrowly missed one eye, but several more tentacles vanished into ash.
The Drowned God had believed the ocean was its domain.
What it had never anticipated was that Drogon's black fire would remain so devastating underwater.
Now the very tentacles it had used to restrain the dragon had become the means by which Drogon was reeling it in.
The irony was not lost on either of them.
One appendage after another was severed.
At this point, the creature could barely dive.
As Drogon closed in once more, the Drowned God understood there was no escaping.
A flash of desperation crossed its mind.
Its remaining massive tentacle suddenly whipped violently.
Drogon felt the tension vanish from his claws.
His grip was gone.
The next instant, darkness exploded around him.
A cloud of black ink filled the ocean.
His vision disappeared entirely.
It's trying to escape!
Drogon immediately understood.
Using both claws and wings, he began thrashing through the water.
There!
His right wingtip suddenly struck something enormous.
His left wing swept forward with all its strength.
Both wing hooks pierced into the creature, locking onto it and dragging him closer.
The ink cloud had begun to thin.
At last, Drogon could see his opponent again.
The sight almost made him laugh.
The mighty Drowned God was a pitiful shadow of its former self.
Most of its tentacles were gone.
Only two half-severed stumps remained.
What was left amounted to little more than an enormous bald head.
Drogon pinned the creature with both wing hooks and opened his jaws.
Black dragonfire gathered in his throat.
Just as he was about to release it—
"Spare me..."
The plea echoed directly in his mind.
The dragonfire froze.
Drogon stared at the defeated sea god.
Its remaining tentacles hung limply.
There was no resistance left.
The voice had clearly come from the creature itself.
He hadn't expected a god to beg for mercy.
Looking through its massive body, he almost imagined he could already see the divine spark hidden within.
"Kill me, and you'll gain nothing. Spare me, and I can tell you things you do not know."
The voice entered his mind again.
It wasn't speech.
It was something closer to telepathy.
Drogon found the claim absurd.
Gain nothing?
The divine essence inside this thing was worth a fortune.
How could he possibly gain nothing?
The Drowned God seemed to sense his confusion.
"I forgot. You're a newly ascended god."
Its mental voice sounded almost weary.
"You probably haven't learned divine communication yet."
"Simply create a channel with your divine power and send your thoughts through it. I'll understand."
You can do that?
Drogon didn't immediately try the technique.
Instead, he grabbed the creature with his claws and beat his wings toward the surface.
If he stayed underwater much longer, he'd suffocate before making any decisions.
Only then did the Drowned God realize the truth.
Drogon hadn't switched to holding him with his claws for tactical reasons.
The dragon had simply reached the limit of how long he could hold his breath.
A wave of regret washed over the sea god.
If I'd only endured a little longer...
Perhaps the outcome would have been very different.
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