"It's the Hammer of Fire!"
Aemon's gaze sharpened as he came to a judgment.
The most likely source of something this mysterious is the Children of the Forest, hidden beyond the Wall.
It's unclear whether the Three-Eyed Raven still exists.
Even if it does, it's uncertain whether it can withstand the dragon's flames.
The Hammer of Fire contains powerful fire magic capable of shifting tectonic plates when fully charged.
This characteristic is similar to that of the Hammer of the Sea of the Children of the Forest, except for the different magical elements.
Perhaps it's a Child of the Forest smelling the scent and stirring up trouble.
"Roar—"
Vermithor let out a long howl, circling above the Lonely Mountain with his head lowered to gaze down at the towering mass.
Aemon closed his eyes, trying to sense the direction of the whispers.
Suddenly, the whispers faded, and their location became ambiguous.
"Trying to run?"
Aemon opened his eyes and sneered.
"You think the River Valley is your home. You come and go as you please."
Just then, a sudden sense of enlightenment struck Aemon. A brilliant idea popped into his mind, but first, he had to find the right timing.
Patting Vermithor's back, the dragon turned slightly and landed at the entrance of the Lonely Mountain's lair.
He folded his broad brown wings and glided straight into the lair.
Aemon leaped off the dragon's back, ignoring the dragon dung on the ground, and headed toward the bronze sacred tree.
The bronze sacred tree quietly grew to six feet, two inches. Its three bronze branches, like the skeleton of an umbrella, supported three distinct bronze creations.
"Ring, ring, ring—" Three new bronze bells sprouted from the first branch and gently shook, emitting a crisp sound.
"Ka, ka, ka"—on the second branch, a bronze bird's beak opened and closed, holding a fist-sized ball of black soil.
"Buzz, buzz"—on the third branch, a bronze disc manifested for the first time and vibrated gently. A faint red glow emanated from the center where its lines converged.
"Is it mature?"
Aemon was astonished.
Just one day after he had last seen it, the Bronze Sacred Tree had transformed.
It thrived on Bronze Faith, growing faster with more faith.
Tens of thousands of people had migrated to Dale, bringing its total population to over 200,000.
Faith was a mixed bag: the Seven Gods, the Bronze Faith, the Dragons, and even the lesser beliefs of Myr.
"Is it time for a surge?"
Aemon's eyes narrowed as he reached out and slowly touched the trunk of the Bronze Sacred Tree.
The dragon fight couldn't have ignited the faith of the Dale residents.
A buzzing sound emanated from his fingertips as his mind swam. The moment his fingertips touched the cool trunk, fragments of memories that hadn't existed before filled his mind.
In the darkness of winter, a giant, silver-gray dragon curled up in its lair, sleeping soundly with its eyes closed.
A thin figure crept to the entrance of the lair and surveyed the surroundings.
Seeing no one around, he stalked inside.
The scene shifted.
A thin figure stood before the bronze sacred tree, leaping with rage as if confronted by a natural enemy.
Yet it was powerless against the tree.
Its movements made a noise, awakening the slumbering silver-gray dragon.
The dragon's eyes suddenly opened, revealing a cold, murderous intent.
Startled, the thin figure fled on all fours.
The scene ended.
"Hmm?"
Aemon, recovering from his shock, felt a slight pain.
Upon closer inspection, he noticed a tiny spot of blood from the prick on his fingertip, which the bronze sacred tree rapidly absorbed.
Immediately, a faint connection emerged between Aemon and the bronze sacred tree.
It felt like the first time he had controlled Vermithor. The connection was tenuous but present, uniting the two. Recognizing its master!
Aemon's first thought was that the spiritual treasure had automatically recognized him as its master.
In this era, the bronze sacred tree should not have survived.
Aemon obeyed, picking up the bronze bells and digging away the black dirt.
Finally, he looked at the bronze disc atop the sacred bronze tree towering over him.
Without touching it, Aemon sensed the immense fire magic accumulating within.
Like a true sun, its warmth concealed blazing heat.
Aemon pondered for a moment, then drew out his flaming hammer.
Clang!
Like the previous day, the flaming hammer gently struck the bronze disc.
Instantly, the faint red glow at the center of the disc found an outlet, pouring into the eager hammer.
Their eyes met, their gazes fixed like turtles staring at green beans.
Eight thousand!
Aemon's mouth dropped open in shock, and he nearly dropped the hammer.
Eight thousand points of fire magic.
The bronze disc held a full eight thousand points of restless fire magic.
Converted to mana essence, it was nearly enough to earn a Golden Legendary.
Buzz—
The Flame Hammer trembled slightly, like a full burp.
"Ready to use?"
Aemon perked up.
The Flame Hammer required 10,000 points of mana to use.
With the scattered fire magic he accumulated daily, eight thousand points of fire magic could barely be used once. Although its power was reduced, it was still not to be underestimated.
"You're the one I want!"
Aemon's eyes gleamed; he couldn't let go.
From the fragments of the bronze sacred tree, he spotted the petty thief from Lonely Mountain:
A green-skinned squirrel-man.
He looked exactly like the Children of the Forest Aemon had imagined.
"You can't escape. I'm going to hammer you."
Aemon gripped his unusual hammer and returned to the entrance of the dragon's lair. He climbed back onto its back.
"Roar—"
The charred wound on Vermithor's neck stopped bleeding. He leaped down from the edge of the lair, carrying his excited rider.
The man and dragon circled the Lonely Mountain, searching for anything out of the ordinary.
Aemon pointed to a bush and gave the command: "Dragonfire!"
The Children of the Forest are adept at concealment and often hide in forests and bushes.
"Shh!"
Vermithor unleashed a blast of dragonfire, setting a vast expanse of brush on fire.
Nothing escaped.
Undeterred, Aemon flew to the western side of the Lonely Mountain toward the Vale of Arryn.
Unlike the eastern side, which was home to the copper mines and the city of Dale, the western side was sparsely populated and covered in pine, cypress, and low shrubs.
"Dracarys!"
Without hesitation, he set fire to every possible hiding place.
Vermithor's strength gradually returned, and he circled the Lonely Mountain, breathing dragonfire as if he were going to set the mountain ablaze.
Aemon feared that if he didn't set all the trees ablaze, petty thieves might take advantage of the chaos.
These trees weren't a waste.
Aemon intended to use his flaming hammer on the mountain, hoping to shift the continental plates and create a volcano.
The Hammer's Impact
Elsewhere,
Viserys and the others had seen Aemon's sudden madness, and then he had mounted his dragon and flown to the Lonely Mountain. They were already full of speculation.
Seeing Vermithor set fire to everything, they panicked.
"Cousin, are you upset?"
Laenor rubbed his stomach; worry thickened his face.
"No, that's nothing,"
Rhaenys retorted.
If Daemon had been killed, Aemon might have been depressed for a while. Now, at most, he was angry that Daemon hadn't been killed. He took out his anger on the trees on the mountain.
"I must go find him."
Unable to wait any longer, Laena mounted Vhagar and set off.
Aemon wouldn't set the mountain on fire for no reason. Something must have happened.
"Screech!"
Vhagar ran a few steps, flapped his wings, and soared into the air.
When they reached the Lonely Mountain, they happened to catch another man and dragon duo completing their mission.
"Aemon, are you all right?"
Laena asked, worried and eager to leap with her own dragon to warn him.
"I'm fine, Laena."
Aemon was about to attack the mountain, but he thought she wouldn't believe him. Instead, he said seriously, "Ride Vhagar back to the Long Lake and tell the others not to ride their dragons nearby. There's going to be a natural disaster, like an earthquake."
He added, "It's serious. Don't get close."
"Okay, I'll listen to you."
Laena, acting with the rationality of a mature woman, immediately rode Vhagar and retreated.
Once she was gone, Aemon took a deep breath, looked down at the engulfing Lonely Mountain, and hurled his flaming hammer.
Decisive!
The flaming hammer spun in midair and slammed down on the Lonely Mountain from a thousand meters above.
Boom!
A flash of red light fleeted as the hammer struck the mountain, unleashing a deafening roar.
It was as if a devastating catastrophe had struck, unleashing countless thunderbolts.
Crackling...
Starting at the foot of the mountain, the earth began to shatter inch by inch and spread at breakneck speed.
This was followed by a violent earthquake.
Cracks appeared in the ground, engulfing rocks and burning bushes.
Within a few breaths, the earth heaved and the cracks widened, emitting a faint red glow.
"Here they come!"
Aemon saw this and quickly ordered, "Move, Vermithor!"
Rumble—
No sooner had he uttered these words than streams of scorching red magma surged from the cracks in the ground, erupting suddenly more than ten meters high.
Vermithor lifted his head, received the command, and climbed toward the sky, disappearing behind the dark clouds.
The continental plates were shifting.
The transformation of the Lonely Mountain depended on this move alone.
Aemon glanced back, no longer concerned with the hidden thief.
The thief would definitely not escape the Lonely Mountain in such a short time.
The Lonely Mountain suddenly changed. See if you can find a place to hide. Don't let it be swallowed by the magma.
The changes to the mountain became increasingly intense.
Magma gushed continuously from cracks in the ground like veins spewing bright red blood.
Boom!
Suddenly, the Lonely Mountain cracked open.
A physical fissure shattered the mountain's center, forming a deep gorge.
Falling rocks littered the ground, and vegetation had disappeared.
The gorge ran from north to south, with the Mountains of the Moon on one side and the river road leading to the Vale of Arryn on the other.
The ground heaved wildly under tectonic shifts, causing the shattered ground to burrow deeper into the mountain, raising its altitude ever higher until it gradually exceeded three thousand feet.
Aemon watched, secretly glad.
The Hammer of Fire was not thrown randomly but struck the west side of the Lonely Mountain.
The gorge splitting the mountain in two was formed by a section of the mountain splitting off from the west.
The rising mountain to the east of the Lonely Mountain caused the mine to collapse and tumble down with rubble.
Fortunately, no further disasters occurred, and even the lava flowed through the mountain.
Aside from the collapse of a few flimsy wooden buildings in Riverdale Town, the rest of the area and Riverdale City remained unscathed.
The changes were swift.
Lonely Mountain split in two, creating a canyon in the middle.
The fissure gradually closed, forming uneven slopes. The spreading lava cooled and turned into a layer of volcanic ash that covered the ground.
A few trees survived, tucked away in nooks and crannies.
Aemon surveyed the location of the Dragon's Nest.
The entrance remained intact.
Aside from the increased altitude — the summit was now halfway up the mountain — little had changed.
However, Aemon knew that the real changes lay beneath the surface.
A new volcanic vein had emerged beneath Lonely Mountain.
Lava lay beneath both its eastern and western peaks.
However, unlike Dragonstone, Lonely Mountain lacked a crater.
It was more like a dormant volcano.
This was a good thing, as it prevented an eruption that would have damaged Riverdale Town below.
Aemon rode Vermithor around the area and retrieved the Hammer of Fire, which was embedded in the mountain.
Both peaks were pitch black and bare, devoid of life.
Within the canyon, however, volcanic ash and low shrubs intertwined, displaying nature's ingenuity.
"What's that?"
Aemon flew to the northern edge of the canyon, his vision brightening.
To the north lay the Mountains of the Moon. One of the peaks had collapsed and shattered, leaving a swift waterfall where it had once been.
The waterfall had carved out a lake, which flowed southward toward lower ground, gradually forming the beginnings of a stream.
"Shh!"
Vermithor, sensing the changes to the Lonely Mountain that made it more habitable, let out a mighty roar.
Aemon was nearly deafened.
"You wretch,"
he swore, commanding the dragon to return to its lair.
A faint communication reached the sacred bronze tree.
The petty thief, with nowhere else to go, had taken refuge there.
Aemon was going to catch him.
Dragon Competition
Vermithor returned the rider to the lair, flapped its wings, and soared high into the sky. Opening its mouth, the dragon released a stream of flames. Like molten copper, the flames billowed out, emitting a fiery golden glow.
"Hiss!"
"Hiss..."
Suddenly, Silverwing and Grayshadow flew over from the Long Lake at high speed, seemingly having received the signal.
"Hiss—"
"Hiss..."
The changes in the Lonely Mountain affected even Vhagar, Meleys, Seasmoke, and the other giant dragons, who broke free from their riders and soared high into the sky.
Six dragons circled the two peaks of the Lonely Mountain, forming two paths, one inside and one outside.
Vermithor and Vhagar formed the inner circle, secretly competing with each other.
Seasmoke and Grayshadow retreated to the outer circle, hissing.
Silverwing and Meleys were eager to try, but their gentle, lazy personalities meant they were ruthlessly driven off by the two veteran, over-a-hundred-meter-tall dragons after a few attempts.
"Hiss—"
Vermithor pounced on Vhagar, grappling him with his powerful claws. He leaned back, his brown wings flapping vigorously as he launched an attack.
"Hiss—"
Vhagar, who had a foul temper, immediately counterattacked with his dragon's mouth.
The two dragons locked onto each other, biting and breathing dragonfire.
The other dragons surrounded them like spectators watching a spectacle.
The night's silence was shattered by the dragons' roars.
On the shores of the Long Lake, Laena watched anxiously, her fists clenched.
"Don't worry,"
Rhaenys said calmly, holding her daughter's hand. "They're just competing for position. There generally won't be any casualties."
"Is that so?"
Laena's heart was in turmoil.
"Your mother was right,"
Viserys said, breathing heavily and wearily. "Targaryen dragons are few, and they only inhabit one mountain, so we've never seen anything like this."
According to his grandfather's family history, the dragonlords of Old Valyria often experienced such events.
Dragons have different talents and personalities. This innate tendency naturally invites battles among other dragons. It's a form of healthy competition.
He hadn't expected to witness such competition in his generation. The contenders were still Vhagar, the oldest and largest dragon, and Vermithor, the second largest and most violent dragon.
However, Viserys was even more shocked by the sudden earthquake and eruption of fire and smoke from the Lonely Mountain.
They were too far away to know that the Lonely Mountain had transformed into a volcano.
However, they were vaguely aware that something unusual was happening to the Lonely Mountain.
Gurgle…
Suddenly, a splash of water appeared on the surface of Long Lake, and the weakened bubbles began to boil again.
Daemon, slumped on the ground, felt his ears twitch slightly as if he had sensed something and turned his head stiffly.
Puff—
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