Runestone, Vale.
Boom—
A Bronze Dragon soared overhead, blotting out the sun and sending emerald leaves swirling through the air.
Many people spotted the dragon and emerged from the buildings.
"It's the Prince!"
"Prince, and his dragon!"
"..."
The crowd chattered excitedly, their former fear of dragons transformed into proud admiration.
After a long while, the Bronze Dragon landed outside the city.
Aemon climbed down from its back and smiled at the sight of his familiar home.
No matter how much his uncle had tried to keep him, he could not stop Aemon from yearning to return.
Alicent and Rhaenyra's relationship had fallen apart. They were one step away from pulling each other's hair out.
Both wanted to claim him and make him choose a side.
With the Black Party and Green Party on the verge of taking shape, he had to hurry up and build cities and towns, establishing an independent foundation.
Only then could he enter the game as a third force and exert his suppressive influence once more.
"Vale, your Prince has returned!"
Aemon lifted his chin, suddenly overcome by a bout of foolishness.
Roar!
Vermithor's vertical pupils remained indifferent. A deep growl rumbled from its throat as it advanced on its rider like a debt collector.
Two fat sheep for one flight. No credit.
Aemon's smile vanished as he grumbled, "You're unbelievable. You don't have a shred of dignity."
Vermithor ignored him, snorted neither too heavily nor too lightly, and rested its jaw on the grassy slope as it waited for its meal.
Its attitude was utterly arrogant.
Seeing this, Aemon took a deep breath and resigned himself to it.
Vermithor had a bad temper, but it had accompanied him for years.
Besides, it did not eat for nothing.
The more meat it ate, the bigger