A little boy saw Drogon sitting there eating and drinking like a human. He broke free from his mother's embrace, wanting to observe Drogon up close, but was pulled back by his mother and given a sharp slap to the head.
"Disturbing a True Dragon's meal, aren't you afraid of being swallowed alive?" the mother scolded.
Upon hearing this, the little boy was so frightened that he quickly burrowed into his mother's arms.
Hearing the commotion from the mother and son, Drogon, having finished his meal, glanced at them and swept past over their heads with a flap of his giant wings, scaring the pair into face-planting on the ground.
Having given the brat a lesson, Drogon continued his search for roasted meat. His body was now the size of a large colt, and his wingspan had reached over six meters. This bit of roasted meat was barely enough to get stuck in his teeth; he wasn't even ten percent full.
After eating the fragrant and tender roasted meat, he no longer wanted to go through the trouble of catching sheep himself. Wasn't it better to eat a ready-made meal? The thing the grasslands lacked least was mutton and horse meat.
It was currently lunchtime for the Dothraki. Drogon soon found another, larger Khalasar with over a hundred tents and seven or eight roasting racks. He repeated his old trick, driving everyone away to enjoy the feast alone.
Seeing Drogon snatching meat, a few people wanted to draw their bows, but they were stopped in time by the Khal. Looking at Drogon's shiny black scales, he estimated that their arrows would find it difficult to penetrate his defense. Not only would they fail to kill him, but they might also provoke the True Dragon, who could then potentially slaughter their small Khalasar.
Drogon, who was eating happily, had long noticed their small movements. He indeed wasn't worried about arrow fire; with his current defense, ordinary arrows couldn't cause him any harm at all, except perhaps to his eyes.
What? The backdoor? Was his tail grown for nothing?
From the clothing of this Khalasar, Drogon saw that they didn't seem very wealthy. After finishing five racks of roasted meat, he flapped his wings and flew away to find his next target. He was a merciful food-snatcher, after all.
It took robbing three grassland Khalasars before he was full. Not a single person from those three Khalasars dared to lift a hand against him, making him feel rather smug and sighing at how wonderful life as a dragon was!
However, he also felt a slight sense of embarrassment. His appetite was growing larger and larger; robbing just a little wasn't enough to fill him up, but continuing to rob forever wasn't a long-term solution either.
For a dignified Great Dragon to go around robbing fat sheep everywhere would tarnish his reputation if word got out. In the future, he should bring some gold hui coins or silver hui coins to pay at least some of the meal money, so he could eat with a clear conscience.
Feeling a bit stuffed, he needed to digest well on the way. He flew back to the Dragon Mother's fleet without stopping and fell into a deep sleep as soon as he reached the ship.
Drogon didn't know that after he left, stories of the True Dragon's sightings gradually spread across the entire grasslands.
Dragon Mother Daenerys had long grown accustomed to Drogon wandering around. She knew he had a huge appetite and was a picky eater, and the ship simply couldn't satisfy him, so she let him hunt on his own. She didn't know that on this trip, he hadn't hunted anything at all and had only been busy snatching food.
Waking up in the morning, Drogon took a long stretch and found that he had grown quite a bit again, now reaching the size of an adult horse. He couldn't even spread his wings inside his dedicated cabin.
"Hmm?" Just as he was about to go out for some exercise, Drogon suddenly discovered another inherited ability in his mind—Transformation.
At the first sight of Transformation, Drogon thought of that skill from the game King of Glory he used to play. Could it have followed him here? And even become an inherited ability?
"Could it be that I can turn into a human?" Drogon felt a surge of excitement. Although he had mostly adapted to his dragon body and looked forward to his future life as a dragon, wouldn't it be better if he could switch back and forth between dragon and human? He could even have sex with beauties... a perfect life! Drogon envisioned a beautiful future and used a small amount of magic to activate the Transformation.
"Poof!"
What was this? As a faint mist dissipated, looking at the familiar tiny body, Drogon looked to the heavens in speechless frustration. Where was his human form? Where was his beautiful life?
What was the point of turning into the size of a newborn? This skill was still as treacherous as ever!
Sitting on the ground with his wings covering his face for five minutes, Drogon finally came to terms with it. He hopped around and flapped his wings twice, testing the tiny body. Its strength was about a third weaker than his adult form, and his defense, claws, and tooth sharpness had decreased accordingly.
Taking small steps, he waddled out of the cabin. Bright sunlight shone on the sea, creating shimmering reflections. Rhaegal and Viserion were soaring freely high in the sky.
"Quite leisurely, aren't you!" Seeing the two dragons' carefree state, Drogon suddenly flapped his wings and charged toward the Green Dragon, Rhaegal, like an arrow from a bow. With his strength not having weakened much while his body size and weight were greatly reduced, his speed had doubled. Rhaegal was struck in the belly without being able to react at all.
"Ugh!" A scream erupted from Rhaegal's long neck. The impact almost made him throw up his meal from the night before.
"With such weak alertness, no wonder he was killed by a sneak attack from a Giant Crossbow. It seems I'll have to make them pay more attention in the future."
Having landed a hit, Drogon didn't stop. His claws tore off a few of Rhaegal's scales, and he lunged at his neck to bite.
Rhaegal only reacted after being painfully struck, turning back to snap at Drogon, who dodged easily.
Seeing Drogon, Rhaegal was stunned for a moment. Why did this little guy look so familiar? Moreover, the scent was exactly like the boss who tormented them daily.
Before he could figure out the reason, he took another claw to the head from Drogon. Being bullied by such a tiny dragon was infuriating to Rhaegal. It was one thing for the boss to bully them daily, but now even a little runt was climbing onto his head—how could he endure this?
Ignoring the scent, he shook his large head violently, trying to throw Drogon off and give him a good lesson. But Drogon's claws were dug deep into the fine scales, and he couldn't be shaken off.
Viserion, who was not far from Rhaegal, flew over upon hearing the scream. He was also stunned when he saw Drogon, not knowing where he had come from. The scent made him both annoyed and fearful, so he didn't dare to strike for a moment.
"What a coward." Seeing Viserion dazed and afraid to act, Drogon immediately understood what he was thinking. He let go of Rhaegal's scales and charged at him.
Forced to act, Viserion felt like he was being trained by Drogon again. Only this time, it was very different from before. Back then, he and Rhaegal would surround Drogon and bite him, with every claw hitting home and every bite drawing blood.
But today, Drogon was as slippery as a loach, repeatedly escaping from his jaws and even finding chances to strike him, making him grimace in pain.
"The dragons are fighting again." Sailors and crew members on the deck watched while sunbathing; this had already become a major form of entertainment in their boring journey.
"Who are they fighting?" Someone noticed something was wrong. Usually, it was a three-way dragon brawl, or more accurately, the Black Dragon Drogon taking on two. But today was different; the Green Dragon and the Golden Dragon were actually fighting a little runt.
Because they were too far away, they could only see a large black dot darting back and forth between the two dragons, forcing them into a frantic struggle as they roared and screamed incessantly.
"It's an intruder." Seeing the situation in the sky, the Bloodrider Ago immediately went to report to Daenerys. Upon hearing the news, Daenerys rushed out of the cabin.
"Impossible!"
Seeing the fierce fight in the sky, she could hardly believe it. The sky was the domain of dragons; what other bird could possibly match a dragon?
Moreover, it was so small and exceptionally agile, yet incredibly fierce, biting Rhaegal and Viserion until they screamed continuously.
"Ago, can you shoot it down?"
Regardless of what kind of bird it was, if it threatened her dragons, Daenerys intended to bring it down first.