Valyrian Steel Dagger

Valyrian Steel Dagger

"Detected a powerful creature containing special magic. Acquired one portion of Burning Fire Magic."

The system panel chimed.

Aemon only felt his palm grow warm. A wisp of red glow drifted out from the crimson scales, swaying as it burrowed into his chest.

A warm current surged through his body, and his strength increased slightly out of nowhere.

He instinctively called up the panel.

Aemon Targaryen

Talent: Dreamer (Gold)

Bloodline: Ancient Valyrian Dragonlord (28%)

Skills: Riding Skill (Mastery), Archery (Advanced), Empty Handed (Proficient)...

Magic Cards: Solid as a Rock +1 (Blue), Kingly Demeanor (Purple)

Pets: Gold-Nosed Rat (Blue), White Hart (Auspicious Beast)

Evaluation: "A healthily developing human cub whose physique far surpasses that of his peers."

Aemon glanced over it. His bloodline had been purified by another 5%.

He switched to the card panel.

There were three cards—gray, white, and green—all useless little trinkets.

Beside the golden hourglass: Essence Count: 462

After two months, he had saved up a considerable amount of Magic Essence.

During that time, exchanging for one Physique +1 had deducted 10 Essence, while one Archery Mastery had cost 80 Magic Essence.

Everything remaining was displayed on the panel.

The benefits had been tremendous. Three Physique +1 cards had given him a robust body, while Archery Mastery had instilled the experience of a master archer, greatly accelerating his archery training.

"Screech!"

Caraxes shook his draconic head, his vertical pupils glancing at the human cub with an inexplicable hint of fondness.

Aemon chuckled. "He doesn't seem to dislike me."

"Because you're my son."

Daemon said confidently.

Aemon blinked, thinking it was because his name had some connection to Caraxes.

Daemon saw through his little thoughts at a glance and said nostalgically, "His previous rider was also named Aemon."

Aemon silently nodded.

Considering how well you've treated me, I won't keep thinking about inheriting your dragon.

After a moment.

Daemon glanced at the sky and said thoughtfully, "Kid, it's time I gave you a parting gift."

Aemon asked in surprise, "You're leaving?"

"What else?"

Daemon sneered and retorted, "Do you think if I stay in Runestone, I'll be sleeping in a sheep pen or a horse stable tonight?"

That damn Bronze Bitch!

Aemon: ...

Silence was Cambridge tonight.

In his previous life, he had not been an orphan, but might as well have been one. He had lived at boarding school from a young age, studying hard, with hardly any family interaction.

This life was much the same.

Being suddenly exposed to family conflict truly touched upon a gap in his knowledge.

"I fought in the Stepstones. After cutting down that idiot who fed people to crabs, I found quite a bit of gold, silver, and treasure in a cave."

Daemon spoke to himself, making it clear that he had reaped a rich haul.

Then he drew two short daggers with rippling patterns, one from his boot and one from the small of his back.

"What are these?"

Aemon's eyes lit up.

Daemon looked down at his son and explained, "Two Valyrian Steel Daggers, treasures once collected by a wealthy merchant from Volantis."

There was no need to guess that they had been plundered from the treasure of the Three Daughters Pirates.

Daemon spun the daggers in his hands and clicked his tongue. "They're too short for me. I was planning to sell them in Pentos for some money, but I might as well leave them for you to play with."

With that, he held out both daggers.

Aemon's expression turned solemn as he accepted them with both hands.

"Detected an item containing magic. Acquired Magic Essence +5..."

The panel's prompt sounded twice, granting a total of 10 Magic Essence.

Aemon did not care about that. His eyes remained fixed on the two daggers.

Both were very short, each measuring only twenty-three centimeters.

They were forged entirely from Valyrian Steel, even the hilts and guards. The handles were wrapped in specially treated hemp cord to prevent slipping.

Rippling patterns covered the daggers from end to end, seeming to flow with faint waves beneath the sunlight.

Their designs each had their own distinct character.

One was straight as a needle, like a sharp Dragon Tooth in his hand.

The other had a curved tip, resembling a giant dragon's nimble claw.

"Well? Do you like them?"

Daemon watched his son's expression, then spoke in High Valyrian again. "Now, both you and I possess a piece of our ancestors."

From the corner of his eye, Aemon saw Daemon's hand settle on the sword at his waist.

Its hilt was long, and its guard resembled a pair of dragon wings.

The Targaryen Family Sword, Dark Sister.

Aemon looked away and gripped the daggers, one forward and one reverse, answering in the same language, "Yes. They fit my hands perfectly."

He was not foolish enough to believe that they were supposedly too short and would be sold for money.

His father Daemon was a proud man, deeply identified with the Ancient Valyrian blood flowing through his veins.

Put simply.

He looked down equally on everyone who was not a Targaryen.

That much was apparent from the fact that he had taken the initiative to guide Aemon into speaking High Valyrian.

Seeing his son wield them with some skill, Daemon nodded in satisfaction. "They're yours."

Aemon smiled and suggested, "I want to give them names."

Without realizing it, the distance between father and son had narrowed considerably.

Perhaps that was the power of money.

Daemon did not care. "Do as you like."

Hearing that, Aemon carefully examined the two little daggers. The more he looked, the more he liked them.

He was still too young to wield a sword, especially since he could never learn to hold one in each hand.

These two daggers, on the other hand, were easy to use and easy to carry.

One in each hand, they moved as naturally as his own limbs.

"I'll call them Dragon Tooth and Dragon Claw."

Aemon let his imagination run wild and chose two simple, straightforward names. Delighted, he said, "One is sharp as a tooth, and one is curved like a claw."

Daemon smiled, then turned and climbed onto the dragon's back.

Aemon stepped back two paces, unable to help feeling reluctant.

"We'll meet again soon."

Daemon said it meaningfully.

"Screech!"

Caraxes stretched out his neck and released a piercing cry that echoed through the air. His serpentine body rose vertically into the sky.

He flew high into the air and disappeared into the clouds.

The wind kept Aemon from opening his eyes, his mind replaying Daemon's words.

Where would they meet?

Daemon had confirmed that Aemon was doing well in the Vale, so he could not possibly return here.

That left only King's Landing or Dragonstone.

"Forget it. There's no use overthinking it."

Aemon put away the two little daggers, warmth filling his heart.

The father and son had quite an understanding.

He had not asked about Daemon proclaiming himself King of the Gullet in the Stepstones, and Daemon had not pointed fingers at his current situation.

In fact, he felt that Daemon greatly approved of his wish for independence.

"Strange."

Aemon muttered as he returned to Runestone.

That night.

Aemon dreamed again after a long time.

The sky was overcast, the air thick with the pungent stench of sulfur, while scorching gusts of wind swept past from time to time.

An immense, towering active volcano stood before him.

Withered green vegetation covered its slopes, and thick smoke billowed from its crater.

As far as the eye could see, there was not a single soul within dozens of miles.

Aemon's mind froze for a moment, panic rising in his heart.

Only after a long while did he realize that the surroundings looked familiar.

"This is... Dragonmont?"

Aemon was utterly confused.

Dragonmont was on Dragonstone!

Rumble—

Suddenly, the earth shook and the mountains trembled as Dragonmont spewed out thick plumes of black smoke.

Judging by the sight of it, it was about to erupt.

Aemon was horrified and turned to run.

Unfortunately, it was too late.

Dragonmont towered into the clouds. A red glow surged from its crater before it violently erupted.

Crash!

Aemon looked up, and his entire body stiffened.

What erupted was not lava, but surging Bronze Water, gleaming bright gold.

The Bronze Water was like a flood bursting through a dam, crashing toward him in waves.

Aemon's hands and feet went cold. There was only one thought in his mind.

I'm done for!