On the west side of the Stone Drum Tower stood a dragon-shaped watchtower.
Clang—
Inside a secret chamber of the watchtower, the sharp sound of metal striking metal echoed, accompanied by bursts of blinding sparks.
The chamber was square, roughly ten square meters, constructed entirely of black dragonstone.
One side of the chamber housed a war-era forge, its flames roaring intensely.
An elderly, wiry blacksmith with gray, curly hair swung a hammer, forging a blood-red sword embryo on the anvil.
Leaning against the stone wall near the door, Rhaegar patiently awaited the birth of a new sword.
Creak—
The wooden door swung open from the outside, and Ser Robert slipped into the chamber.
"Your Highness, just as you predicted, there's unrest at the Stone Drum Tower."
There was no need for further questioning—Ser Robert, ever dutiful, reported truthfully.
Rhaegar lowered his gaze slightly, silently listening to the report.
Otto had met with Alicent, and then Melos had reached out to House Hightower's father and daughter...
As expected.
With pressure mounting, hearts wavered, and people sought aid however they could.
Yet, there was also an unexpected delight.
Rhaegar had learned that Daemon had secretly brought a mysterious mistress into the Stone Drum Tower, hiding her in his chambers, never letting her be seen.
A handmaiden trained by Sara had proven her worth, tracking one of Alicent's little spies to Daemon's room and overhearing the mistress's identity.
The long-missing forest witch—Alys Rivers.
"Heh, they barely left, and already the rats are crawling out of the gutters," Rhaegar murmured, arms crossed over his chest with an amused smile.
Ser Robert hesitated for a moment before carefully continuing, "Your Highness, about half an hour ago, Prince Aemond slipped out of the castle and rushed toward Dragonmount, looking quite eager."
Rhaegar raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected the boy to be so bold.
Ser Robert looked troubled as he added, "Just moments ago, His Majesty awoke from his slumber. It seems he realized Prince Aemond had left—he didn't even take the time to change his clothes before rushing out after him."
"My father?" Rhaegar's expression shifted in surprise.
At this hour, his father should still have been fast asleep.
Ser Robert sighed bitterly. "Prince Aemond searched both the King's and Princess's chambers for a pass token. He must have been noticed by His Majesty in his half-asleep state."
And indeed, that was what had happened.
Viserys had been lying in bed in a deep sleep when Aemond sneaked into his chambers, searching frantically and muttering about Dragonmount and dragon taming.
When Viserys regained enough clarity to realize his eldest son was absent and his second son, Aegon, was even more intoxicated than he was, he personally set out to track down his third son, who had snuck out of the castle.
"Your Highness, His Majesty has only just left. Should we send someone to persuade him to return?" Ser Robert asked, uneasy.
Rhaegar, after his initial surprise, calmed himself and thought carefully.
Aemond's eagerness to tame a dragon wasn't a concern—he had given him a runestone talisman, ensuring his safety.
But his father rushing out so recklessly? That was unlike him.
Closing his eyes briefly, Rhaegar murmured, "If he can hear Aemond, he can hear me too."
Then, he chuckled and shook his head. "No need to stop him. Just send more guards to accompany him."
He suspected his father had done this on purpose—using the excuse of searching for his son to attempt to tame a dragon himself.
As a king, he was also a proud man.
Ser Robert acknowledged the order and silently withdrew from the room.
Clang!
The old blacksmith brought down his hammer one final time, completing the forging of the sword embryo. Wiping the sweat from his forehead with a cloth, he spoke in High Valyrian: "Quench it."
A young apprentice used tongs to lift the sword embryo and plunged it into a prepared barrel of water.
Sizzle— White steam hissed into the air.
Without even glancing at it, the old blacksmith retrieved three rare materials he had prepared beforehand:
A thick, black dragonbone the size of a forearm An octagonal, blood-red gemstone A piece of parchment inscribed with runes
The dragonbone had a carved slot at one end, into which the red gemstone was embedded. The parchment wrapped around both, and the blacksmith murmured an incantation as he cast it into the forge.
Whoosh—
The flames flared violently, engulfing the black dragonbone as the incantation continued.
The parchment melted into a liquid, seeping into the slot between the dragonbone and the gemstone, fusing them together.
"Flaming Heart… Fusion Rune…"
Rhaegar's eyes gleamed as he watched the forge closely.
The black dragonbone was taken from Balerion's remains, the red gemstone was the legendary Flaming Heart, and the parchment was a relic from the Valyrian greatsword, Brightroar.
He summoned his system interface.
[Brightroar]
Exploration Progress: 100%
"Exploration complete. Please retrieve the lost treasure."
"Retrieval successful. You have obtained..."
[The Lion's Treasure]
Grade: Epic (Purple)
Trigger Phrase: 'Blood of Kings.'
Glancing at the panel, Rhaegar remained unmoved.
He had already triggered [The Lion's Treasure] while treating his father's wounds, extracting a few drops of pus and blood from the festering injury to activate it.
The system log recorded the event.
"Congratulations, The Lion's Treasure has been activated. You have obtained..."
[Fusion Rune]
Grade: Rare (Blue)
Effect: A one-time-use item that fuses two objects of equal quality, turning decay into wonder.
Evaluation: 'Use your two most precious items wisely.'
Hummmm—
Suddenly, the forge's flames roared higher, and the Flaming Heart embedded in the black dragonbone shone brilliantly.
Rhaegar refocused, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"R'hllor's relic… From now on, it belongs to House Targaryen."
As the sword neared completion, it was time for him to act as well.
Dragonmount
Beneath the pitch-black night sky, a towering active volcano loomed.
"Hurry up—we're almost there."
On the Barren Ground
On the desolate open ground, Aemond ran tirelessly, holding a torch high.
Gazing at the looming Dragonmount just ahead, a thrilled smile spread across his face.
Two dragon guards followed closely behind, each holding a torch.
Before long, three faint flames flickered in the dim twilight at the foot of Dragonmount.
The mountain was immense, its exterior covered in jet-black volcanic rock, radiating heat like the peak of summer.
Aemond pressed forward, encountering two patrol teams along the way, both of whom he dismissed with his token of authority.
After climbing steep rocks, a wide and deep pitch-black cavern emerged at the mountain's base.
Just as he was about to step inside, a group of dragon guards accompanied by a dragonkeeper hurriedly arrived.
The dragonkeeper, elderly and frail, spoke in High Valyrian, "Prince, please stop."
"Why? I have the token!"
Aemond panted slightly, sweat beading on his forehead.
Leaning on a staff, the dragonkeeper approached, his clouded eyes filled with grave concern. "At dusk, the Glutton's roar disturbed the slumber of Vhagar. She is in a foul mood."
Vhagar, also known as the Bronze Fury, was notorious for her bad temper.
The dragonkeeper could not afford the risk of allowing the prince to recklessly approach her.
Hearing this, Aemond wiped the sweat from his brow, his violet eyes scanning the pitch-black cavern over and over, unable to hide the longing in them.
He had had enough of being mocked.
He would tame the biggest and strongest dragon to prove his Valyrian bloodline.
Desire outweighed reason. Aemond shoved the dragonkeeper aside and shouted hoarsely, "Good! Let her wake up, then! Saves me the trouble of doing it myself!"
With that, he charged into the cave without hesitation, gripping his torch tightly as he sprinted forward.
Only a single tunnel separated him from Vhagar. How could he give up now and turn back?
The dragonkeeper stumbled, his face filled with sorrow. "Catch up to him! The prince must not tame the dragon alone!"
Even if it meant death, they had to die before the prince.
Otherwise, they would face the king's wrath all the same.
With no other choice, the dragon guards helped the dragonkeeper up and followed after Aemond.
But by the time they entered the cave, Aemond had already disappeared into the darkness.
The Barren Plains Beyond Dragonmount
Clusters of torchlight illuminated the barren plains as they steadily advanced toward Dragonmount.
Fifty dragon guards, each holding a torch, escorted their king on the march.
"Huff… huff…"
Exhausted from continuous running, Viserys was drenched in sweat, his breath raspy and labored, like the bellows of a forge.
Having departed in haste, the image-conscious king hadn't even had time to change his clothes. He wore only a loose silk nightrobe, hastily thrown over his body.
With every stride, the robe billowed open, barely keeping him covered.
"Faster! We must reach Dragonmount before Aemond does!"
Even speaking was a struggle for Viserys, but his eyes shone with determination as he fixed his gaze on the towering peak.
Half-asleep, he had heard his eldest son's advice, realizing that blindly following the Hand of the King's counsel would only make him lose his own judgment.
By chance, he had caught Aemond sneaking into his chambers searching for something, giving him the perfect excuse to act.
This was not just about securing his rule—it was about reclaiming the glory of dragon-riding.
He would tame a dragon. And he would help his third son, Aemond, do the same.
In the best-case scenario, father and son would soar into the skies together before dawn.
Dragonmount – Underground Cavern
"The shepherd walks… beneath the evening sky…"
In the pitch-dark cavern, Aemond cautiously made his way forward, humming the Valyrian lullaby The Shepherd's Twilight.
He had done his research—High Valyrian carried a certain resonance with dragons, allowing for basic communication.
Singing a lullaby could help soothe them.
The deeper he ventured, the hotter the air became. The stone walls felt like burning embers beneath his fingertips.
"So hot…"
Aemond wiped his sweat with his sleeve, his freckled face flushed red from the heat.
After walking a long distance, the sloping ground gradually leveled out.
Raising his torch, he scanned his surroundings. Faintly, he could make out a thick layer of pungent sulfur clinging to the cavern walls.
"Rooooar…"
Out of nowhere, a deep, thunderous growl echoed through the cavern like the pounding of war drums.
Aemond's excitement surged. "Vhagar!"
In this cave, only Vhagar and Silverwing resided—there could be no mistake.
Fueled by anticipation, he ignored the oppressive heat and sprinted toward the source of the roar.
"Hurry! I heard Vhagar's roar…"
A low, urgent voice sounded behind him—the dragonkeeper, followed closely by the dragon guards.
Aemond glanced back and scoffed. "Idiots. I'm already inside—why bother chasing me?"
Feeling that he was drawing closer to Vhagar, Aemond forced himself to stay calm, continuing to hum the lullaby under his breath.
As they raced through the cavern, the passage gradually widened, revealing a vast, scorching-hot chasm.
"There!"
Aemond's eyes gleamed as he nimbly leaped over uneven terrain, landing on a hidden platform shrouded in darkness.
Rustle… scrape…
The faint sound of scales scraping against stone reached his ears.
In the shadows, a massive, menacing silhouette began to take shape.
Aemond froze, his forehead breaking out in cold sweat.
He knew exactly what this was—an adult dragon.
Summoning his courage, he fixed his gaze on the pitch-black abyss ahead and raised his hand high.
"Vhagar, come forth and face me!!"
(End of Chapter)