After dinner, Rhaenyra examined the blueprints that Aemon had given her. The plans included a new city, Lake-town, and a royal palace called the Emerald City.
"Wow!"
Rhaenyra exclaimed in surprise. "Are you trying to replicate Dale with the standard buildings on the blueprints?" Not to mention Lake-town, with its walls. While not as vast as the Red Keep, the Emerald City, a royal palace, had the ancient charm of a castle and required to be entirely clad in marble. It would drain half the treasury!
"Don't worry. Myr is rich," Aemon said, smiling as he sat at the edge of the table, sharing his joy.
The sums collected from defeating so many slave owners were astronomical. With the restoration of Myr's harbor, trade would soon resume. There would be no shortage of money.
"You decide," Rhaenyra said, putting down the blueprints and shrugging nonchalantly.
She wasn't yet confident in her ability to handle the affairs of King's Landing. The situation in Myr was even more complicated. Professional matters should be left to professionals.
With this thought, Rhaenyra glanced around casually but couldn't find the familiar figure in the black dress. Laena had warned her long ago to be wary of Johanna, the "Black Swan." She hadn't been able to prevent it.
"Uh, what are you looking for?" Aemon interrupted knowingly, catching her gaze.
"Nothing," Rhaenyra said simply as she rose. "Show me around Myr. I want to see the city I built with my own hands."
"Come with me," Aemon said with a relaxed smile.
He loved Rhaenyra's tsundere attitude, the way she kept her composure and pretended to be indifferent. But she actually took it to heart. A sudden, scrutinizing look was a reminder that she remembered everything.
For the next few days, the two of them traveled together.
Boom!
A topaz-colored dragon flashed by, breaking free from the thin clouds and mist as it swooped down toward the ground.
Rhaenyra's face tensed, and she gripped the saddle's handle tightly.
"Relax your arms and don't dwell on the danger," Aemond's voice boomed from above. "Control your dragon. Try to communicate with your mind."
"Roar—"
Vermithor soared low above the clouds, his massive body resembling a bronze peak. A muffled, thunderous roar emanated from his throat.
Directly below, Syrax arched her back and flapped her wings to accelerate.
"Dracarys, Syrax!" Rhaenyra shouted at the crucial moment.
Syrax was about to touch the ground when she tilted her head upward and transitioned from a dive to a glide. Her maw belched a thick stream of golden dragonfire.
Rumble!
A group of Myrish mercenaries fled along the Valyrian Road, overtaken by the topaz dragon behind them, its flames surging.
When the screams ceased, the training session was over.
"Shh!"
Syrax landed on the ground, twisting her slender neck and brushing her snout against her broad wing membranes. Like a giant cat.
Rhaenyra took a deep breath, untied the chains around her waist, and leaped off the dragon's back with a thud. It was thrilling!
Instead of using the simplest dragon-riding methods, she opted for a few challenging maneuvers, navigating a one-sided pursuit.
"I thought I'd fall," Rhaenyra said, touching her sweaty forehead. She'd never made a sharp turn on horseback before.
Vermithor swooped down, creating a hurricane-force wind, and slowly landed on the charred earth.
"How did it feel?" Aemond dismounted and examined her.
"Terrible," Rhaenyra complained, her eyes brimming with unspoken excitement. She wanted to try again.
"With diligent training, mastering the fourteen ancient dragon-riding techniques is just around the corner."
Aemond confirmed that she was unharmed, a faint smile on his face.
Rhaenyra had started riding dragons at an early age, becoming a dragon rider at seven. But her uncle was too strict with her. Not only did Syrax have no combat experience, but Rhaenyra's dragon-riding skills were also limited. This would lay the foundation for her future studies in the Binding Charms. Aemond believed it was necessary to strengthen the bond between man and dragon.
"I felt Syrax sense my thoughts at the last moment," Rhaenyra shared delightedly. "I could sense it, too. It was struggling to flap its wings and maintain its balance." In that moment, the minds of man and dragon merged like the closest of siblings.
"The best is yet to come," Aemond nodded, mocking the bumpkin.
Rhaenyra was furious, her violet eyes wide.
"Hurrah!"
Syrax suddenly erupted in anger, roaring at Vermithor, who was not far away. Vermithor had eaten the charred remains on the ground.
"No, Syrax!" Rhaenyra hurried to calm him down.
Fresh from battle, Syrax was still restless and wild, refusing to obey her rider's commands.
"Hurrah!"
She paced hesitantly, challenging Vermithor's authority.
Aemond sighed helplessly.
Vermithor ignored the timid female dragon and swallowed a corpse without hesitation. He tucked his tail under his chin as he lay coiled on the scorched earth.
"Hiss!"
Syrax bent her dragon body defiantly, gathering a ball of dragon flame in her throat.
"Calm down, Syrax!" Rhaenyra ran to the dragoness and impatiently slapped her neck scales. If she continued like this, she would die.
Ignoring instructions, Syrax decided to give it a try.
Vermithor narrowed his pupils slightly, keeping a close eye on the dragoness, ready to pounce and tear her apart.
"Stop, Syrax!"
Aemond suddenly spoke. The magical binding spell erupted like a stern rebuke.
"Gah?"
Syrax's pupils cleared suddenly, her body trembling, and the flames in her throat quenched. At the roar, all the negative emotions vanished.
"Syrax," Rhaenyra said, stunned.
"You pamper it too much," Aemond said, speechless. "It's a dragon. It needs to learn to control itself."
"Hiss!"
Syrax, sensing that someone was saying something bad about her, turned around abruptly and grinned in warning.
"Silence, Syrax!" Aemond's eyes hardened as he unleashed the intimidating power of the binding spell.
Syrax tilted its head as if it had seen its natural enemy and crouched obediently.
"Can't afford to offend. Can't afford to offend."
"See?" Aemond spread his hands, demonstrating the benefits of combining kindness and severity. Not even a fiery old dragon like Vermithor had ever lost control under his training.
Rhaenyra bit her lower lip, speechless with shock.
Syrax, scolded, curled up in a ball, aggrieved. Glancing back, she saw her driver being scolded and lashed out in rage. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck her. She twitched her tail, stretched her neck, and plopped down.
Out came a dark, steaming, sticky pile of dung.
"Aemon, it seems..."
In a flash of understanding, Rhaenyra looked up in astonishment.
Aemond was puzzled.
Syrax defecated a massive pile of warm dung, sniffed it, and then protected it with her torso and tail.
"Eggs laid?"
Aemond's mind flashed back to a dragon's strange behavior after laying eggs.
"It seems so."
Rhaenyra was also confused.
The two looked at each other. The latter lowered her head and took a step back in guilt.
Aemond covered his face in helpless frustration and took out a small, special hoe.
"Hiss!"
As soon as he approached, Syrax glared at him.
"Calm down, calm down," Aemond said with a smile, no longer threatening him with his binding spells.
It took a while before Syrax finally moved.
With a swish of the hoe, he flung the sticky incubator aside.
One, two, three, four...
Aemond counted carefully. Five dragon eggs of various colors nestled against each other: one was red, two were green, one was purple, and one was red and purple.
The five eggs nearly blinded Aemond.
"How are they? Are there any more?" Rhaenyra asked anxiously.
"Yes," Aemond replied hoarsely. It was unbelievable that Syrax had laid a clutch of eggs in her anger. What a ruthless feat!
"Excellent!" Rhaenyra practically leaped for joy. "How many?"
"Five," Aemond said, his eyes welling with tears. He had been wrong!
At that moment, he realized his folly. Syrax, renowned for its bounty, was a land of precious few dragons. How could he expect a cute little female dragon to be trained to fight? Her real job is laying eggs.
"Five eggs!" Rhaenyra exclaimed, surprised and delighted, as she counted on her fingers. "Last year, it laid three eggs and hatched a dragonet. This year, it laid five, for a total of seven."
With the dozen eggs stored in the Dragonpit and the older eggs on Dragonstone, the family had surpassed the thirty-egg threshold.
Aemond said nothing. He pulled out a piece of cloth and carefully packed the five warm eggs.
"Shh!"
Syrax roared at him, turning her head and burrowing into her rider's arms. Her dragon kissed him gently, as if to say, "Mom, look! I'm a mom again."
"You're the best, Syrax."
Rhaenyra showed her affection, hugging Syrax's head and rubbing it passionately. Intimacy maxed out.
A new clutch of eggs quickly returned to Myr.
Amidst Rhaenyra's sneers, the pathetic dinner ended.
After the two returned to their rooms, attacking and defending became easier. After making love for most of the night, they both fell asleep, exhausted.
In the early hours of the morning, Aemond had a long-awaited dream.
Dream
The Lonely Mountain.
He gritted his teeth and climbed across the misty mountainside toward the top. He didn't know why he was climbing. [Solid as a Rock] had worn off, and his hands and feet were raw from the sharp rocks, which had left blisters.
Subconsciously, he looked up, searching for the dragon's nest. Aemond was confused and saw nothing. Dream clouds surrounded him, and in the depths, dragon shadows seemed to shuttle by.
Boom!
Suddenly, the ground shook. Aemond was horrified to find that the Lonely Mountain had split open down the middle. Streams of boiling, bubbling red magma emerged. The high temperature formed a vacuum zone, and white, sulfuric smoke rose into the sky.
"Hiss—"
The familiar low roar echoed through the sky like eternal thunder.
Aemond's vision blurred, and then his body became weightless. With one last look, the magma erupted violently.
Swish, swish, swish!
A rustling sound of leaves followed.
On top of Lonely Mountain, the mist dissipated. A towering, sacred bronze tree with dozens of luxuriant branches laden with bronze bells stood there. Ten bronze birds of different sizes perched on its branches, their beaks open as if silently chirping. At the very top of the sacred bronze tree hung a sun disk.
Before Aemond could examine it, a terrifying heat erupted, as if from the sun itself. Suddenly, a red light bathed the earth.
Awakening
Outside, Aemond's face paled, and cold sweat dripped from his forehead. To the uninitiated, one might have assumed it was the result of excessive indulgence at such a young age.
"Huh!"
Aemond's eyes snapped open, and he quickly sat up. Then, his head buzzed. He looked around at his dimly lit bedroom.
Terrified, Aemond slapped his forehead. "I'm dreaming again." And a dream like this!
With a thought, he summoned his personal dashboard.
[Aemond Targaryen]
Talent: Dreamer (Gold)
Bloodline: Dragonlord of Old Valyria (58.5%)
Skills: Archery (Unwavering), Riding (Top), Swordsmanship (Mastery), etc.
Sorcery: Binding Charm (Mastery), Burning Rune (Adept), Solid Rune (Adept), Illumination (Mastery).
Magic Cards: Strong and Robust (blue), Solid as a Rock (intermediate purple), and King's Temperament (purple).
Factions: Vale, Myr, Arm of the Dragon, Tarth
Equipment: Space Ring, Lament, Lady Forlorn, and War Horn.
Pets: Golden-Nosed Rat (blue), White Stag (auspicious beast).
Comments: "You are a top-tier Dragonborn on the verge of adulthood, and your bloodline is worth fostering."
"The panel is urging you to get married?" Aemond chuckled, finding humor in his own words.
Recalling his previous dream and the Dreamer's talents, he wouldn't take it lightly. These bizarre dreams often concealed some kind of foreboding.
"The Lonely Mountain turned into a volcano. The Bronze Sacred Tree grew..." Aemond rubbed his brow. Everything looked strange.
He brought up the card panel. A white mist hung thickly in the air, and the shadows of three cards floated up and down. He checked the time. The magic cards had refreshed early that morning. Aemond had a flash of inspiration, as if he had grasped a clue.
His gaze fell on the golden hourglass at the bottom of the panel. [Essence: 5,025]. After accumulating for six months, the number of magic essences exceeded 5,000. Yesterday, he harvested five dragon eggs, earning an additional 15 essence points.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Aemond reached out and flipped open the three shadowy cards.
[Imperial Command]: Calling upon the members of the Empire to communicate seamlessly.
[Flame Hammer]: A fire elemental artifact with the power to pry open the earth's veins.
[Incubator]: Any egg placed inside will quickly hatch.
The three cards, from top to bottom, are purple, red, and blue. The prices were: 3,200, 4,999, and 8,888, respectively.
Aemond examined the third card closely to obtain more detailed information. A black steel furnace, similar to the incubators found in dragon lairs, was depicted diagonally on the card against a sky-blue background. The bottom line read in small print: "Disposable Item. Please Use Carefully!" "Cannot be reused."
Aemond frowned. Eight hundred and eighty-eight essence, nearly four months' worth of stockpiled energy. Exchanging it for a disposable item felt like a loss. However, it could speed up the hatching of dragon eggs, so it was truly a treasure. After exchanging it, the result would be equivalent to hatching a baby dragon. Aemond pondered this, then shook his head in pain. He had no children, and hatching dragon eggs wouldn't be a high enough reward.
He looked past the Imperial Order card, which showed a banner on a dark purple background. Its purpose was to create a team through the flag and communicate over long distances. It was more powerful than a cell phone. Add to that the high price, and his budget was tight.
Finally, he set his sights on the Flame Hammer. He was heartbroken for several nights after missing the golden magic card, the Hammer of Seawater.
The Hammer of Fire: On the crimson card, a square forging hammer engulfed in flames appeared.
"Can it move the earth's veins?"
Aemond immediately thought of the Lonely Mountain in his dream. Could this hammer transform the terrain? Could it turn an ordinary mountain into an active volcano?
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