Dragonnest City

Vomysor was not yet satisfied. Only after burning the last wave of Dornishmen until they wailed in agony did it slowly turn its head and fly toward Blackhaven. The dragon circled Blackhaven several times without landing.

Count Edric hurriedly waved both hands. "Quick, guide the prince down!"

The Dondarrion soldiers within the city rushed to the tower of their family's main keep and waved flags, signaling that the dragon could land in the open space.

Vomysor hesitated as it glanced at Blackhaven's main tower. With visible caution, it slowly descended onto the tower.

Silverwing had far fewer concerns. It was not large enough to worry about crushing someone's castle, so once Vomysor took off, it landed directly atop the main tower.

Count Edric stood obediently before the tower entrance with his maester and attendants, waiting for the two brothers to come down. Then they saw the brothers in Valyrian steel armor walk toward them.

Lonzell removed his helmet and gave a slight bow. "I have come as promised."

"Your Highness, thank you beyond measure. May the Seven bless your greatness and kindness." Count Edric was not at all surprised by the youth of the two Dragonriders. After all, he had taken on the burden of a count at that very age, and his son had also fought the Dornishmen at that age, living up to the name of the Purple Lightning.

"Jon is with our people." Lonzell walked over to Count Edric's side. "He will return to the Borderlands with the fleet."

"I have complete faith in your arrangements." Count Edric hurriedly instructed the castle servants to tidy the hall and prepare food. "Please forgive us, but Blackhaven has been besieged by the Dornishmen for too long. We lack fresh meat."

"You have bread and salt, surely?" Valar said with a smile. He had crammed a great deal of Westerosi knowledge aboard the ship and could not resist showing off now.

"Of course." Count Edric immediately straightened his back and declared proudly, "The hospitality of House Dondarrion is renowned throughout the Borderlands and the Stormlands."

Upon entering the castle's main hall, an attendant presented a plate of torn white bread and a pinch of salt. Count Edric did not stand on ceremony. He picked up a piece of bread, dipped it in salt, and swallowed it. After the count had eaten, Lonzell also took a piece of bread, dipped it in salt, and tossed it into his mouth to chew.

Westerosi white bread was rougher than the white bread of Essos, but its texture was richer as well.

The meal was fairly lavish. Onions and green peas were stewed with a little cured meat into a steaming thick soup. Count Edric ordered the last few sheep raised in the castle slaughtered, their fresh meat made into mutton pies and a thick mutton-and-turnip soup. There was also a salad of chopped turnips and cabbage. The castle's stored sausages were brought out by the cooks; some were sliced and smoked, while others were stewed with sheep offal into a rich broth. There was Arbor wine and Dornish golden wine, along with rather fine white bread and generous portions of wheat porridge.

"Your Highness, I have prepared rooms for you and the princes. Lightning Tower will be under your administration until your own castle is completed. The servants of House Dondarrion are your servants."

"Thank you." Lonzell speared a piece of roasted sausage. Though it had clearly been stored for a long time, it tasted surprisingly decent. "I will pay rent."

"Your willingness to come rescue us already counts as payment." Count Edric sighed. "After this battle, my family will need at least five years just to barely recover. Those godforsaken bastards of House Vail, that scum, those sewer rats, lice, damned Dornish catamites with their brains eaten away—I'll skin them sooner or later."

Lonzell quietly enjoyed the food without touching the wine, merely listening to the count complain. Seeing that his brother said nothing, Valar swallowed the words he had just prepared to boast with a mouthful of wheat porridge.

"Thank you for your hospitality." Lonzell wiped his mouth clean. "We will have to trouble you for some time yet. As for the Dornishmen, they will pay for their foolish actions sooner or later. Debts must be repaid."

"I would like Jon to follow you. What do you think?"

"Ser Jon has already been knighted." Lonzell shook his head. "My only squire is Prince Jacaerys, but Ser Jon can train alongside Lynn and the others." He looked into the count's eyes. "I will be carrying out quite a number of projects in my lands. If Ser Jon wishes to learn, he may do so freely."

"Thank you so much." Count Edric slammed his fork onto the table. Everyone from House Dondarrion at the feast raised their cups at once. "If House Dondarrion had not served the Baratheon family of the Stormlands for generations, I would rather see you become the true governor of the Borderlands."

"I respect your traditions." Lonzell rose with a smile and lifted his cup of the light fruit wine he had brought. "To our friendship."

"To our friendship! Long live Prince Lonzell!"

"To our friendship! Long live Prince Lonzell!"

The bard Count Edric had invited saw the count nod at him and began plucking his harp, singing of Lonzell's rescue.

"Silver dragon scion, silver dragon scion.

Crossing the sea, to the songs of all.

The gods sing praise, all living things join in.

Silver dragon scion, silver dragon scion.

Bronze fury returns to the mortal realm.

Kind Silverwing soars once more.

Silver dragon scion, silver dragon scion.

Coming to aid the righteous, the Warrior sounds his horn.

Dragons descend, and bandits lose heart.

Dornish rats, Dornish rats.

Beneath dragonfire lie only dry bones.

Dare invade again, and the Stranger shall greet you.

Silver dragon scion, silver dragon scion.

All sing in joy, the gods sing praise.

You saved us from peril; a hundred lifetimes could not repay it.

Let this song bear witness before all.

Silver dragon scion, silver dragon scion.

Praised by all, sung by all."

The feast gradually drew to a close amid cheerful song.

Late at night, in Lightning Tower.

Lonzell and Valar shared a spacious room. Valar refused the room assigned to him and ran straight to his brother's room. He read a book for a while, then fell asleep, leaving Lonzell alone to quietly read the books sent by Count Edric's maester. This old volume, titled A Brief History of the Borderlands, recorded in detail the history of the Borderlands during and before the reign of Jaehaerys I, as well as every war with Dorne.

Lonzell was already fluent in the Common Tongue. While they were aboard the ships, they had taught the Common Tongue unit by unit. His subjects fervently believed that Lonzell's family were true gods, and anything the gods did was naturally something they had to do well. Thus, when they crossed half of Essos and came west, everyone had basically mastered fluent, if accented, Common Tongue in addition to Valyrian with a Valantis accent.

Knock, knock, knock.

Someone knocked softly outside.

Lonzell looked up. "Come in."

A young servant entered. He gently shut the door, and his face suddenly blurred. When it came back into focus, it had become the utterly ordinary face of a young man.

"Your Highness." Kungul glanced at the sleeping Valar and noiselessly approached Lonzell. "There were two maids and a kitchen girl outside trying to sneak into your and Young Master Valar's room. Someone has already sent them back to their rooms to sleep."

"That is normal." Lonzell closed the book. "You were faster than I expected."

With his head lowered, Kungul said, "Someone's training has been acceptable, Your Highness. Lightning Tower has been searched. There is only one secret passage. Shall we—"

"Just keep watch on it." Lonzell said, "After all, this is someone else's castle. If we want to last in Westeros, we must respect its traditions."

"You have done very well." Kungul spoke sincerely, then frowned in confusion, as though wondering why he had said such a thing.

Lonzell smiled and nodded. "Go keep watch outside. Oh, did you bring it?"

Kungul took out a roll of parchment from inside his clothes. It was a blueprint drawn by the family's master builders, marking out Lonzell's construction plans.

A fortress-style castle, which would also become the future seat of the Valaerys family. This castle would be built using Old Valyrian construction methods. Fortunately, Lonzell, who possessed both dragons and magic, could recreate this mysterious technique that had vanished from the world many years ago.

A large town would be built at the crossroads of Summerfield, forming a complete city with the castle. The Valaerys would settle the crafts they had brought here and establish more villages in Summerfield and Balance Vale.

Several castles, as well as at least one fortified pass guarding the Boneway.

And an enormous harbor.

With sufficient wealth supporting them, even if not a grain of wheat grew in their lands for three to five years, the Valaerys family's subjects would not go hungry.

The family's immense wealth was one of Lonzell's greatest sources of confidence.

After resting in Blackhaven for some time, the Valaerys family fleet also rounded the treacherous and ever-changing waters of the Stormlands in batches and reached the Northern Sea of Dorne. Along the way, they burned the harbor of Wyl, leaving Count Uller Vail cursing furiously amid its ruins.

Leaving Valar behind to care for the newly arrived Rey, as well as the Shadowmare that shocked everyone, Lonzell set off on dragonback.

His objective was simple: survey the terrain of Summerfield.

Shepherd Tom was an old bachelor from a small village at the foot of the Red Mountains. His wife had been brutally killed by the Dornishmen, and he himself had lost an eye. He could only make a living by herding sheep.

The land of Summerfield was fertile, but there were not many villages. The raids and plundering by the Dornishmen and the bandits of the Red Mountains had inflicted far too much damage. Fortunately, this was a royal demesne. The Dragonlord in King's Landing did not care much about the people here and was not even diligent about collecting taxes, so the common folk lived fairly well.

Tom was driving his flock back into the pen, preparing to go home and eat something. The moment he stepped out of the sheepfold, he ran into the village elder.

"Tom, come count your sheep." Elder Jerry squinted and craned his neck, trying to count the sheep in the pen.

"Seven Hells, Old Jerry, what are you trying to do?" Tom hurriedly blocked the entrance to his sheepfold. It had taken him years to save up these sheep. Nothing could happen to them.

"We have a new lord now, a royal prince blessed by the Dragon God."

"What?"

Old Jerry spread his hands. "His tax collectors are taking stock. Later, everyone will be assigned ownerless wasteland and mountain pastures."

"What!"

"Our taxes have been adjusted too. They are a little lower than before."

"We still have to pay taxes, then. Will the prince protect us?" Tom asked curiously. He did not want the Dornishmen to steal his pasture the moment it was assigned to him.

"Why are you saying such foolish things?" Elder Jerry smacked Tom hard on the head. "The prince has the Dragon God."

"Gods above." Tom stared blankly behind Elder Jerry.

"What foolishness are you up to now?" Old Jerry turned around in confusion.

"Roar!"

A clear dragon's roar came from above the clouds. A huge shadow swept over their heads and circled before a towering peak in the Red Mountains.

"Gods." Old Jerry froze as well.

Lonzell looked at the mountain before him. He had already confirmed through magical sight that the Red Mountains were not merely ordinary red mountains. The range was filled with blazing magical energy, and it was precisely because of this that the climates of the three regions separated by only one mountain were completely different. Dorne was dry and scorching, the Reach warm and humid, and the Stormlands thick with vegetation and endless storms.

But this magical energy was not strong, nowhere near the overflowing magic at the edge of the ruins of Valyria. It seemed to have lain dormant for many years.

But that would only make Lonzell's plans easier.

"My friend, it is up to you." The pale-faced Lonzell freed one hand and gently patted Vomysor. Vomysor roared cheerfully and fixed its gaze on a specific spot.

Lonzell used one of Vomysor's bone spurs to cut open his palm. Blood gleaming silver rapidly seeped into Vomysor's body.

"Vomysor, Dragonfire!"

After the last drop of blood was absorbed by Vomysor, Lonzell shouted. Vomysor unleashed an unceasing torrent of dragonfire at the mountain.

Under those flames laced with silver, the crimson mountains turned black at a visible rate. Slowly, a black substance like liquid began to flow down the mountainside. Lonzell gripped the handle of the dragon saddle tightly and carefully adjusted Vomysor's dragonfire.

Before setting out, Lonzell had mixed a great amount of blood imbued with spells into the flesh and blood fed to Vomysor. In his mind, the outline of a castle slowly took shape.

The same shape gradually emerged upon the mountain peak.

Nine towering spires slowly protruded from the melting peak. At the summit of the tallest tower, the shape of a dragon could faintly be seen.

Tall walls slowly separated from the mountain as well. The mountainside, now gradually turning pure black, melted and reshaped itself.

Vomysor seemed to enjoy the process. Against the backdrop of its unbroken stream of dragonfire, its membranous wings and scales gradually changed from bronze to molten gold.

"Vomysor, stop."

As the castle in his mind gradually took shape, Lonzell immediately ordered Vomysor to stop breathing fire. Yet the mountain continued to melt.

"Vomysor, climb."

The dragon flew to the highest point of the mountain, which was gradually taking the shape of a castle, and at Lonzell's command unleashed another stream of dragonfire touched with silver.

The lower mountain stopped melting, but the towers and walls above became clearer under the baking flames. At last, suitable openings slowly melted into the towers and walls, allowing dragonfire to continue burning within and carve out the form Lonzell desired.

Feeling the weakness of his companion caused by the loss of so much blood, Vomysor stopped breathing fire after hollowing out the insides of three towers. It turned its head toward its rider as if asking whether they should rest.

"I am fine, Vomysor." Lonzell smiled, bent down, and patted Vomysor's body, letting it see the color gradually returning to his face. "I am a blood mage. This amount of blood is nothing to me. Keep going."

Vomysor gently shook its head, still unconvinced.

"Do not worry." Lonzell placed his hand on Vomysor and let it feel the fluctuations of magic within him. "Do not underestimate your companion."

Vomysor sensed Lonzell's steadily recovering magical energy for a while before continuing to breathe dragonfire, burning out the remaining towers and the sections of mountain that needed to be hollowed.

The nine towers gradually took shape. Vomysor folded its wings and lowered itself to the mountainside, to where the main body of the mountain stood, then released another breath of dragonfire.

A huge hole instantly exploded through the mountain. Raging dragonfire madly scorched its interior, connecting it with the hollowed-out sections of the mountain.

This would be their future nest.

"This castle shall be called Dragonnest City." Seeing the vast cavern open up before him, Lonzell satisfiedly guided Vomysor into the sky to admire the castle, which had already begun to take shape.

I will leave the rest to my craftsmen.

Sorry, everyone. I spent the whole day applying medicine today, so I could only combine two chapters into one. Once I recover, each chapter will be longer. My stockpile is running low too, but I will post a burst of updates afterward.