So this 'Nine Lives' ability doesn't respawn me at the place of death, but rather sends me back to where I was three hours—six hours—ago, Lancelot thought to himself.
He immediately stood up and explained the situation to the wildling chiefs, including the location of the cave and the presence of the dragon.
"On the highest peak of the Mountains of the Moon, there is a cave. Inside, the last dragon in the world might be living," Lancelot announced.
Lancelot figured the dragon had grown too large to leave the cave; otherwise, it would have surely come out, killed him, and eaten him instead of just roasting him.
"The highest peak... do you mean the Sky-Gazing Summit?" one of the wildlings asked.
"You know of it?" Lancelot asked.
"That place is weird. Sometimes terrible roars come from there. And even though it's the highest peak, there's no snow. Normally, the higher you go, the colder it gets, but up there, it's actually hot."
"Our Painted Dog Tribe, like the Burned Men, used to seek out the Fire Witch for her blessing. We'd bring food to her, let the fire burn us, and return with glory."
"But according to the last man who was burned by dragonfire, the dragon is too big. Its body seems to be stuck in the cave, unable to get out," the Painted Dog wildling explained.
So that's it. It really is stuck. If that's the case, I have a way to deal with it, Lancelot thought.
He looked at the Vale wildlings and addressed them.
"Warriors of the Vale! The time for glory has arrived. There is a dragon at the Sky-Gazing Summit. If we kill it, I promise to help you build five stone castles to live in. You won't have to raid anymore; you can farm in peace," Lancelot declared.
"But the mountain path is too steep. We can't all get up there. And even if we did, we have no way to kill a dragon," the One-Eyed Chief said.
"There is a way!" Lancelot replied. He still had a large supply of sleeping draught that he hadn't used up. Using it on a dragon wouldn't be a waste.
Lancelot planned to have the wildling tribes sacrifice two men. They would drink wine laced with the sleeping draught and be sent into the cave for the dragon to eat. Once the dragon fell asleep, Lancelot would lead the others in to slay it.
When Lancelot and the wildlings arrived at the Sky-Gazing Summit, roars echoed from the cave, filled with a clear warning.
"ROAR! ROAR! ROAR!"
The dragon inside seemed to be saying, "Don't come any closer! I'll eat you! Aren't you afraid of dragonfire?"
"Lancelot, what do we do?" asked the One-Eyed wildling.
"Go in and slay the dragon! This kind of glory only comes once in a hundred years, just like Serwyn of the Mirror Shield," Lancelot said.
He began distributing Valyrian steel swords. Ten wildlings each received a sword, and the largest among them was given a shield made of Valyrian steel.
"Glory to the First Men! Come, everyone, drink this wine before you go in to slay the dragon!"
Lancelot brought out the wine spiked with the sleeping draught. The wildlings, not being particularly bright, saw that Lancelot had given each of them a Valyrian steel sword and even a Valyrian steel shield.
They all thought of the story of Serwyn of the Mirror Shield, who polished his shield until it was like a mirror, reflecting the dragon's fire back to burn the beast itself.
The wildlings were brimming with confidence, feeling that they were destined to be dragon slayers. Some even planned to kill their companions after slaying the dragon if there were too many survivors, just so they could claim the glory for themselves.
After drinking the wine, with the alcohol going to their heads, the ten wildlings charged into the cave.
Sheepstealer was trapped inside, unable to leave—a situation similar to the dragons slaughtered in the Dragonpit during the riots in King's Landing, only the terrain here was even more cramped.
Lancelot listened to the commotion from outside. Soon, dragon roars rang out, followed by the screams of battle, the clang of weapons, and finally the sounds of chewing—bones crunching as they were swallowed.
Lancelot waited for six hours. Seeing no one emerge, he wanted to send other wildlings in to check.
But the wildlings shook their heads one by one, refusing to go in.
Lancelot had no choice but to call upon his own private soldiers, the Unsullied, ordering them to enter the cave with torches.
Half an hour later, they returned carrying ten Valyrian steel blades and one shield. The wooden handles and grips had been burned to ash.
"Lord Lancelot, the dragon seems to be asleep! And it looks very old; perhaps it doesn't have long to live anyway," an Unsullied soldier reported.
"Everyone stand back. Hrakkar, come with me."
Lancelot led Hrakkar into the cave. Using a fireball spell to light the way, he saw the dragon's face clearly. It certainly wasn't as majestic as Balerion the Black Dread.
The dragon's face looked like a trampled mass of rotting meat. Gray-green scales curled up, oozing pus. Its left compound eye was murky as stagnant water, while a jagged rock was embedded in its right socket. Its collapsed nose bridge sprayed the stench of decaying flesh, and crooked fangs dripped yellow-green saliva. Half-digested bones hung from the corners of its mouth.
Fat white maggots burrowed in the folds of its skin, wriggling as it breathed. Every wrinkle was soaked in a nauseating, sticky slime. Just looking at it felt like one's soul was being gnawed by filth.
"It seems it really is an old dragon on its deathbed. Let me relieve its suffering."
Lancelot picked up his Valyrian steel spear, "Demon Slayer," and thrust it directly into the dragon's eye, piercing straight into its brain.
Sheepstealer was killed in its sleep.
Lancelot let Hrakkar eat all the edible meat from the carcass, then walked back out.
"The dragon is dead. Go in, dismember it completely, and bring it out," Lancelot ordered.
The Unsullied obeyed and entered the cave. It took them a day and a night to bring out almost the entire dragon carcass, including bones, scales, head, claws, and wings.
The rotting meat attracted vultures, who fought over the scraps. Jackals came for a share, followed by shadowcats, wolves, mountain eagles, falcons, peregrines, and foxes—all drawn by the scent.
"I didn't expect there to be so many wild animals in the Vale!" Lancelot remarked.
He had assumed that since the Vale's territory was limited and the mountain clans supposedly relied on raiding, there wouldn't be much wildlife.
"We wildlings also know that resources in the Mountains of the Moon are scarce, so we only raid villages under the rule of the Vale lords," the One-Eyed Chief explained.
"You really are a piece of work," Lancelot said.
Lancelot distributed some of the dragon bones to the mountain clans but kept most of the scales, claws, and the tattered wings for himself.
"Let's go. Next stop, the Eyrie! ...Wait, where is Hrakkar?" Lancelot looked around but couldn't see the lion.
"My Lord, Hrakkar fell asleep at the foot of the mountain!" an Unsullied soldier approached and said.
"He didn't get a stomach ache from eating that, did he?" Lancelot worried.
Arriving at the foot of the mountain, he saw Hrakkar breathing evenly, seemingly just fast asleep.
"Leave a squad of Unsullied here to guard him! Don't let other animals or wildlings harm him. I'm going to the Eyrie now. When I return, I'll come check on him," Lancelot ordered.