Pop!
Aemon no longer hesitated. He reached out and touched it.
The red card shattered instantly, transforming into a crimson halo that fell into his palm.
When the light faded, Aemon looked closely.
A forging hammer identical to the one on the magic card appeared out of thin air.
It was a foot long, made entirely of Valyrian steel, and engraved with flame inscriptions.
Aemon grasped the flaming hammer; it was warm to the touch and weighed at least a hundred pounds.
At the same time, a message entered his mind:
[Flame Hammer]: Activation requires 10,000 fire magic points."
Aemon was shocked.
Magic cards of purple quality and above required an activation condition before they could be used.
But was 10,000 fire magic points too much or too little?
Recalling that touching a dragon only yielded 100 fire magic points, Aemon gritted his teeth and tried to channel the fire magic in his blood into the flaming hammer.
Instantly, heat surged into his palm.
The Hammer of Fire flickered faintly with a red glow before vanishing.
Aemon closed his eyes, sensing the subtle shift in the hammer.
It had filled one thousandth of the gap.
His blood, imbued with fire magic, provided about ten points each time.
"Three years," Aemon muttered, his eyes narrowing.
Replenishing his fire magic on his own at a rate of once a day would take at least three years.
"It's come to this. Let's sleep," Aemon said helplessly.
At the bottom of the card panel, next to the golden hourglass, it read, "Essence Quantity: 26."
"Alas, back to the days before liberation!"
Without money, there was no confidence. Aemon threw himself into bed. The poor didn't deserve to stay up late. Soon after, he fell asleep.
Rhaenyra lay on her side, her cheek resting on her folded hands and her rosy lips slightly pursed.
Suddenly, she opened her eyes.
"It was a nightmare," she said, sitting up in surprise. A flicker of fear crossed her beautiful eyes, and she pressed a hand to her sweaty, slightly cold forehead.
She had had a very short dream.
In it, she saw a giant green dragon.
It was so massive that she initially mistook it for Vhagar.
However, it looked younger, with golden pupils as bright as the sun.
The sight of those pupils had jolted her awake.
"I must have overplayed my hand," Rhaenyra said, wiping the sweat off her face. She glanced sideways at the sleeping Aemon.
Instinctively, she touched her flat belly.
Then, she thought again and shook her head.
They say that what you think about during the day, you dream about at night.
Perhaps Syrax had laid eggs during the day and she had been too happy.
"Asshole!" Rhaenyra consoled herself, lying back on her side and gently kicking Aemon under the covers.
The days passed quickly.
One day, Aemon was training Rhaenyra in dragon riding as usual when Johanna sent a letter.
It came from the Stepstones, delivered by a Sea Serpent.
"What happened?" Rhaenyra asked, pushing aside the fussy Syrax.
Aemon's brow relaxed, and he quipped, "If you've achieved something, you'll have your boss checking on you."
Rhaenyra was amused.
The truth was that the Sea Serpents were busy working on the Stepstones, and the initial results were already showing.
The Iron Throne had also contacted Prince Qoren, and the two sides agreed to meet in the Stepstones to discuss a truce and trade.
Aemon was the lord of the Stepstones and Rhaenyra was the crown princess.
The two young people had just finished the job.
"I'll go pack my bags," Aemon said seriously.
With Johanna in Myr, there was no need to worry.
Twenty barons had emerged from the Second Sons, all of whom were elite knights with clean pedigrees and proven achievements.
After being ennobled, they were assigned pre-selected territories to develop. Each baron was allowed to recruit three thousand men from Myr to establish the initial population of his territory.
For the poorer barons, Johanna provided loans from the Bank of Myr to help them through the difficult period of building from scratch.
The Emerald City and Lake Town were also progressing smoothly.
Batch after batch of liberated Myr people migrated there, taking the lead in building Lake-town.
Within ten years, the disputed lands would be completely transformed.
"Squeak," grumbled the golden-nosed rat in his pocket, wriggling back and forth.
With the two naan compartments on either side filled with dragon eggs, there was no room left for food.
Boom!
Aemon, expressionless, flicked his head at his pocket.
"Your only purpose is to store dragon eggs and please the king. You ungrateful rat."
The Stepstone Islands.
Two dragons, one in front and one behind, landed on the mountainside of Bloodstone Island.
Vermithor's claws crushed large rocks as he landed, and sparks flew from the friction of his scales.
Syrax stayed away to avoid being injured. Aemon dismounted and waited for Rhaenyra. They walked together to the dramatically changed beach at the foot of the mountain.
They traveled light on this trip, leaving the little wild dragon Grayshade behind.
With dragons appearing from time to time, Myr would be more secure.
"You're finally here!" As soon as he got down the mountain, Corlys came to greet him with a big laugh.
"Lord Corlys." Aemon nodded slightly in greeting.
"Yes." Corlys responded briefly, bowing to Rhaenyra and saying, "Your Highness."
"Show us your achievements, Lord Corlys." Rhaenyra glanced around.
Corlys was eager to show them around.
He boasted about the port's architecture along the way, including a market, shops, taverns, stables, and even a brothel.
He also highlighted the navy guarding the Stepstones.
The Velaryon fleet consisted of 1,500 men.
The war with Tyrosh had decimated the fleet, leaving only 1,500 men.
The remaining 1,000 were the Gulltown fleet and the royal fleet, for a total of 4,500.
Aemon nodded along, echoing the Sea Serpent's boasts.
But the other side was indeed quite capable.
From the beach to the foot of the mountain, the land had been meticulously constructed, and the harbor had been specially expanded along the coast.
It was a world away from the desolate island it once was.
"Prince, Princess." The two figures they were expecting arrived, excitedly saluting.
Lord Cameron of Tarth and Tyran, the Foreign Minister.
"Lord Cameron, are you used to it here?" Aemon asked with concern.
Cameron laughed and patted his chest. "Don't worry, Prince. I will ensure that the Stepstones are well taken care of, and your territory will not be threatened."
Cameron was appointed Governor of the Strait of Waters and served concurrently as Governor of the Stepstones.
The Gulltown Fleet and the Royal Fleet were both under his command.
Additionally, he was handed over the management of the 3,000 freed slaves rescued from Astapor.
The two of them would discuss arrangements for the Sea Serpents.
Upon hearing this, Corlys glanced at them and raised his head proudly.
"Who are they guarding against?"
Aemon's lips curled up slightly.
Of course, it's to prevent someone from taking over the place.
Everyone entered Dragon's Blood Castle.
Aemon inquired about his meeting with Prince Qoren, which was scheduled for that day.
At noon.
A large Dornish ship arrived at the port, and Prince Qoren disembarked.
"Welcome, Prince Qoren," Aemon greeted him with a meaningful smile.
Qoren's expression was dull, and he simply chuckled. "You remain youthful and handsome, Your Highness," he said.
"But I see you're gaunt," Aemon replied. "Take care of yourself. Old age is useless."
Pretend to be old in front of me, and I'll show you the sarcasm and foul mouth passed down in my family.
Corlys, standing by: ...
For the formal conversation, several key figures from Dorne are accompanying him:
Lord Olyvar of Yronwood.
This family is a prominent noble line in Dorne, second only to the Martells in status.
Yronwood is said to be the last barrier guarding the Bone Road.
Therefore, their titles are 'Blood Noble, Lord of Yronwood, Warden of the Stone Road.'"
Aemon glanced at Lord Olyvar.
He was a middle-aged man with black eyes, brown hair, a lean build, and a shrewd appearance.
He had the less common Yronwood appearance.
The other person accompanying Prince Qoren was a middle-aged man with silver hair and purple eyes who looked very much like a Valyrian.
More precisely, he had light blonde hair slicked back and violet eyes.
His hair looked bright and transparent in the sunlight, like silver-gold.
He wore a suit of silver armor, and engraved on his chest was the family emblem of "a sword crossed with a shooting star."
The Dayne family of Starfall.
Aemon's eyes flashed, and he knew what was happening.
His strongest memory of the Dayne family was their greatsword, "Dawn."
The blade was said to be forged from the heart of a fallen star, and it was said to be as powerful as a Valyrian steel weapon.
The Dayne who could pull out the greatsword "Dawn" would be awarded the title of "Sword of the Dawn."
"Isn't the Sword of the Dawn here?"
Aemon asked suddenly.
Arik Dayne was stunned, his face changing for a moment. With shame, he said, "No one of my generation has yet managed to draw the sword."
Aemon felt a touch of regret.
The Dawnblade had arrived; there simply wasn't one. Dorne was underdeveloped in this era.
After exchanging pleasantries, they got down to business.
Tyran sat up straight, raised his hand, and coughed twice to assert his attitude. "Prince Qoren, I imagine you've come here with great enthusiasm, not to leave disappointed."
"Of course," the young Prince Qoren replied jokingly. "The Iron Throne has occupied the Three Daughters, blocking most of Dorne's trading partners. We can only trade with each other."
His words were tinged with resentment and accusation as he admitted it.
"His Majesty is lenient and will not hold you accountable for your participation in the Battle of the Sound," Tyran replied, despite his lack of experience, with cleverness.
"You are a loyal servant, Lord Tyran," Prince Qoren said with a smile.
"If Dorne submits, you too can be a loyal and righteous man."
Tyran was becoming more proficient.
Prince Qoren's face darkened completely.
He muttered to himself, "When the two nations meet, they should be gracious."
Aemon rested his chin on his hand and observed the entire conversation.
There wasn't much to say.
The two sides had met with the goal of easing tensions.
After discussing trade, however, the Sea Serpents and Dornish delegations engaged in a heated exchange of words.
Finally, they agreed upon the details.
Trade would be held in March, June, September, and December each year in the Stepstones.
At other times, Dornish ships were forbidden from entering the Strait of Sintra, as doing so would be considered a provocation.
Meanwhile, the list of trade items had expanded significantly.
Dornish trade included sand warhorses, tropical fruits, and various wines, among other items.
The Iron Throne traded salt, coal, lime, lace, and silk.
Aemon covered his mouth with his hand, hiding his smile.
Most of the items were specialties from the Vale and Myr.
"Prince Aemon, do you remember the marriage?"
Prince Qoren changed the subject, gazing at Aemon, who was watching the excitement.
Aemon was stunned.
Of course he remembered, but the words hesitated at the tip of his tongue.
He turned to look at Rhaenyra, who was equally bewildered, his eyes inquiring, "Should I remember?"
Rhaenyra pursed her lips, not daring to speak carelessly.
As the crown prince and regent, they clearly had the power to decide their siblings' marriages.
However, with her father and Alicent still alive, a barrier existed between her and her siblings.
Making decisions on her own would easily lead to criticism.
"Remember!"
Aemon saw this and understood her dilemma. He decided to support her. It's better to lose the battle than the war.
A glimmer of cunning flashed in Qoren's eyes, and he revealed a foxlike smile. "This is the first time our two countries have established a friendship. I hope the marriage can continue and bring eternal peace."
"Prince?" Tyran was startled, unsure of His Royal Highness's intentions.
The trade was a last resort.
The Iron Throne had just experienced war and needed time to recover and rebuild. Dorne had always been ambitious and not a pushover.
Without a war to show Dorne the difference between the two sides, the marriage would be in vain.
Aemon raised his hand, pausing Tyran for a moment.
"As far as I know, the Martell family currently has only one daughter, right?" Corlys asked.
"Yes, my eldest daughter, Alexandra Martell, Dorne's most beloved princess."
Qoren raised his chin, revealing his obsession with his daughter.
"A girl?" Corlys stood up straight and said seriously, "We would like to know the future succession arrangements."
Dorne is a country of primogeniture.
"My eldest daughter, Alexandra, will be my heir. One hundred years after my death, she will inherit Sunspear as a Dornish princess," Qoren answered.
Corlys's expression changed, and he looked at Aemon seriously.
If a Targaryen could marry a Dornish princess, it would be the greatest chance for unifying the Seven Kingdoms.
Aemon lowered his head in thought.
He didn't believe Prince Qoren would dig his own grave by doing such a thing.
He hoped to use the marriage to gain the trust of the Iron Throne.
The fall of the Three Daughters had already demonstrated the power of the dragons.
The six dragons at the Battle of Myr alone were more than Dorne could withstand.
Alexandra was still young, at least ten years away from being of marriageable age.
This could buy Dorne a significant period of safety.
"Yes, I promise," Aemon smiled.
Prince Qoren also smiled, though with some strained effort.
Marrying off a daughter is the most annoying thing.
"But!" Aemon took Rhaenyra's delicate hand and said sternly, "Without the king's permission, I cannot arrange your marriage to a particular prince. Be prepared for this."
The implication was clear: you had no right to choose.
Prince Qoren's face darkened. He gritted his teeth and agreed. "Yes, but I must be the one to screen the engagement."
"Understandable."
Aemon didn't push back, showing a rare degree of respect.
After all, given Aegon's and Aemond's temperaments, it was difficult to guarantee that they wouldn't go astray.
The trade and marriage were discussed.
Fuming, Prince Qoren left his meal uneaten and sailed away with his men.
He vowed never to set foot on the Stepstones again.
Tyran sat blankly in his chair, head bowed, muttering, "The king will hang me."
That evening, after dinner, Corlys approached Aemon alone and brought up his daughter's engagement.
Aemon replied, "I'll leave tomorrow and return to King's Landing."
As long as you understand.
Corlys's demeanor shifted slightly, taking on the patronizing air of an elder toward a younger relative.
"Marriage is beautiful. A good, intelligent woman can truly turn a boy into a man," Aemon said with a soft smile.
The night flew by in a flash.
Hand in hand, Tyran pleading for mercy, Aemon and Rhaenyra rode away on their dragons.
King's Landing.
The sky was azure with white clouds drifting by.
Aemon emerged from the dragon's lair, shielding his eyes from the sun's glare.
The five newly laid dragon eggs were stored in the greenhouse to be recorded by the maesters later.
He glanced over at Araxes.
The young dragon that had hatched in his arms was growing rapidly. It was now the size of a sheepdog and capable of burning a goat with its flames.
"Your Highness," Ser Steve greeted him from a white, wheeled carriage.
"Thank you for your hard work."
Aemon boarded the carriage and quickly returned to the Red Keep.
He arrived at the king's chambers.
As he pushed the door open, he saw Grand Maester Meros handing two letters to his uncle.
One was from Myr, and the other was from the Stepstones.
Aemon could clearly see that Johanna and the Sea Snake had written them, respectively.
Viserys opened the envelopes, glanced at his nephew first, and then checked the letters without hesitation.
He didn't take them seriously at first.
But the more he looked, the darker his face became, and a murderous look appeared in his eyes.
Aemon was stunned.
Bang!
Viserys slammed the table and roared ferociously. "Those Three Daughters bastards! They brought back a nest of dragon eggs from Old Valyria!"
---------------
You can read +100 advance chapters on my Patreon
Patreon(.)com/izan24
•TIER 1 you'll get +15 ADVANCE CHAPTERS
•TIER 2 you'll get +40 ADVANCE CHAPTERS
•TIER 3 you'll get +60 ADVANCE CHAPTERS
•TIER 4 you'll get +100 ADVANCE CHAPTERS