Before Aegon could react, he saw the sickly green light in Cannibal's throat abruptly fade. The furious dragon's roar cut short, his scarlet slit pupils contracted slightly, and he slowly folded his wings, lowering his enormous body.
But just as everyone thought they had survived and began to breathe a sigh of relief, Cannibal, now back on the same stretch of beach, raised his head again. With another low growl, he advanced toward the group, step by step.
The group instantly fell apart. The remaining household soldiers and residents scattered in every direction, leaving only the Cargyll Brothers, Garwin, Larys, Viry, and Alyn-the six of them standing firm in front of Aegon. Though their faces were deathly pale, not one retreated a single step.
Cannibal drew closer, slowly lowering his massive head toward Garwin-or, more precisely, toward Aegon in Garwin's arms.
A foul, putrid breath washed over him. Aegon went rigid, staring at the towering creature before him without daring to move a muscle. All he could do was pray that the system had actually worked.
Cannibal did not attack. He merely brought his snout close and gently sniffed Aegon's scent. There was an indescribable hint of affection in the gesture, making him seem like an entirely different dragon from the savage beast of moments before.
After a moment, he slowly turned his head and flew back to the beach. With one enormous claw, he picked up Hugh Hammer, who lay unconscious where Cannibal's earlier blow had slammed him into the sand, leaving a large human-shaped impression.
As though tossing away rubbish, he hurled the man onto the sand and stones in front of Aegon. Then he raised his head and gave a short roar, as if signaling something, before spreading his enormous wings and taking flight. He vanished into the darkness before dawn, leaving only a gust of wind and a scene of devastation.
A deathly silence settled over the Black Beach.
Everyone stood frozen, looking from the unconscious Hugh Hammer to Aegon, their faces filled with the bewilderment of survival and utter astonishment.
The household soldiers and residents who had fled gradually returned. Seeing Aegon unharmed, then looking in the direction the wild dragon had departed, their eyes filled with awe and fervor...
No one knew how much time had passed before a Dragonstone soldier carrying a torch suddenly cast it aside and dropped to his knees with a thud. He was the first to kneel before Aegon, his voice brimming with fervent reverence. "The True Dragon Prince! He is the True Dragon Prince!"
That cry was like a spark touching a powder keg.
Every soldier, attendant, and guard dropped to their knees in unison, covering the Black Beach. Thunderous cheers, filled with the joy of having survived, rang throughout the bay:
"Long live House Targaryen!"
"Long live His Highness, the True Dragon Prince!"
"The Dragon King's Advent! Even wild dragons bow!"
Everyone knelt and shouted, "True Dragon Prince! Your Highness, you are the true dragon king born to rule! Even the king of wild dragons must submit to you!"
Cheer after cheer echoed along the shore.
They had seen it with their own eyes: the infamous wild dragon Cannibal had bowed in obedience to this four-year-old prince and even offered up the fugitive.
To them, this was undeniable proof of the true dragon bloodline, a divine right to rule, a miracle heralding the Dragon King's Return.
Yet the six men at the front remained frozen, their faces filled with profound shock.
Garwin's arms still trembled uncontrollably as he held Aegon. He looked down at his young nephew's tender face. There was not the slightest panic in those purple eyes, only a composure far beyond his years.
Overwhelming fervor and reverence swept through his heart-this was his sister's son, his nephew, a prince whose veins carried both their Hightower family's bloodline of the King of the Tower and House Targaryen's true dragon bloodline of the Dragonlords. He was a true Dragonlord!
Leaning on his cane, Larys Strong bowed deeply. Every trace of calculation had vanished from his gray eyes, leaving only pure awe and submission.
At last, he understood. The one he followed had never been a small child who needed to depend on his sister, but a true dragon who had inherited the old Valyrian Dragonlord bloodline.
He had made the right wager-an extraordinarily right one.
Arryk Cargyll, Willem Fell, and Alyn Celtigar all dropped to one knee, planting their longswords in the Black Beach and offering Aegon the most solemn knightly salute. Their heads bowed low, their eyes filled with a fervor that would carry them willingly to their deaths.
They knew that the one they followed would be a true dragon monarch destined to rewrite the history of the Seven Kingdoms.
The Cargyll Brothers also recalled how, years ago, they had accompanied Ser Harrold Westerling, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and witnessed the wondrous sight of Aegon riding the White Hart while still a babe in swaddling clothes. Seeing what had just unfolded, their hearts held nothing but reverence. This was the supreme majesty of the true dragon bloodline.
But Aegon, surrounded by the cheering crowd, felt no joy at all. His expression was terrifyingly dark, and he had already cursed Hugh Hammer a thousand times in his mind-the man Cannibal had knocked unconscious on the beach and now tossed before him, alive or dead.
The bloodline purity he had spent four whole years building!
The only gift his unreliable system had given him-the twenty-percent bloodline purity bonus!
Just gone!
All traded for some useless status whose purpose he didn't even know!
He could clearly feel the purity of the pure Valyrian Dragonlord Dragonblood within him, which had been with him since birth, rapidly diminishing. Nearly half was gone.
Unwilling to accept it, he deliberately checked the panel of his still not fully unlocked system to confirm.
Not only had he lost more than half the bloodline purity he had spent four full years building through missions involving family drama, petty squabbles, and everyday household affairs since birth...
Even the twenty-percent bloodline purity granted when the system awakened had vanished in an instant. All that remained was a strange, warm power coursing through his limbs, his body, and his mind, while the status bar before him displayed a status he had never seen before-
Wild Dragon's Friend (effect unknown).
The bloodline reserves he had cultivated for four whole years had all but disappeared in a single stroke. The benefits of his "starter pack" were completely gone, and the system remained locked. Apart from this inexplicable status, nothing had been left behind.
Fury burned fiercely in his heart. He could not afford to provoke that almighty system, nor could he currently defeat Cannibal, who had flown away. At that moment, all his resentment, all his rage, and all his pent-up frustration focused on Hugh Hammer, lying unconscious and half-dead on the beach before him.
If not for this damned traitor, how could he have ended up like this?
Aegon forced down the surging fury and bitterness in his heart and looked down at the dying Hugh Hammer before him. His violet eyes brimmed with savagery he could no longer restrain. At that moment, the sleeping dragon's wrath of the Targaryens took complete possession of him.
Aegon wriggled out of Garwin's arms. His small body landed on the Black Beach, and he walked step by step toward the unconscious Hugh Hammer.
The first faint light of dawn finally crept over the horizon of the Narrow Sea, falling across him and stretching his shadow long.
He looked down at the traitor on the ground-the man who would one day betray Rhaenyra, destroy everything, and unleash a deluge of blood and fire. Every trace of softness and gentleness faded from his childish face.
At that moment, the "sleeping dragon's wrath" in the Targaryen bloodline fully awakened.
He would settle this debt with the man before him, down to the very last reckoning.
Before you continue