Waves rolled across the azure sea, gently licking the oak hull of the Laughing Lion.
The briny sea breeze swept across the deck, stirring the sweat-damp strands of hair on Liu Qian's forehead.
He hunched over, gripping the fishing net with both hands, his knuckles white from the strain.
This was his ninth day since transmigrating.
He was no longer the college student who sat in front of a screen playing Shyvana in the jungle, roaming Summoner's Rift.
Instead, he had become "Liu Qian," a thirteen-year-old blacksmith's son from the small town of Yidi on the Jade Sea.
Three months ago, Dothraki horsemen had swept through like a plague of locusts, trampling his home and turning him into merchandise passed from one slave market to another. In the end, a Westerosi adventurer named Gerion Lannister had bought him, making him the lowliest soul aboard the Laughing Lion as it sailed toward an unknown fate.
Gerion Lannister.
That name alone was enough to send Liu Qian's heart sinking into the icy depths of the sea.
Having read A Song of Ice and Fire, he knew perfectly well that this man was Tywin Lannister's younger brother.
Yidi, Dothraki horsemen, Volantis, Westeros...
Other transmigrators became lords, princes, or squires. He had become a slave-a young blacksmith from Yidi who did not even know where he would be tomorrow.
A question rang out from the bow in a thick Volantene accent, interrupting Liu Qian's gloomy thoughts.
"Gerion, how much longer until we reach Valyria? We've been sailing this damned sea for half a month. Is there something wrong with your chart? Bring it out and let everyone have a look, or who knows what tricks you're playing!"
The speaker was a gaunt, middle-aged man with short brown curls. A hideous rose-red scar slashed diagonally from his forehead to the corner of his left eye, like an ugly centipede.
His sharp eyes were fixed on Gerion, who stood on the foredeck.
Gerion Lannister did not answer immediately.
He stood tall at the bow, gazing intently at the distant horizon through a Myr lens forged from copper, as though trying to see straight through that expanse of blue.
Only after a moment did he slowly lower the telescope and turn his calm blue eyes toward the scar-faced man-Lennard.
"Lennard, there's nothing wrong with the chart. It cost me more than a decade of my life to obtain, and I won't entrust it to anyone lightly. If you want to find the treasure, stop probing and follow my orders. Otherwise..."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over Lennard's darkened face. "This ship can do without you at any time."
With that, Gerion spared him no further glance and turned toward the captain's cabin, leaving Lennard standing alone at the bow.
The sea breeze fluttered the hem of his open leather coat, but it could not disperse the malice and resentment surrounding him.
He stared after Gerion, the scar on his face looking even more twisted in the sunlight.
Liu Qian kept his eyes lowered and continued hauling mechanically on the fishing net, as though he had heard none of it.
This was already their seventeenth such confrontation.
Lennard, Gerion's "partner," never stopped trying to pry open Gerion's mouth and extract the secrets of the chart leading to the Valyrian Ruins.
Gerion, Tywin Lannister's youngest brother, had put to sea in search of his family's lost Valyrian steel sword, Bright-Roar, and the treasures of the ruins. Every time, he remained exceptionally guarded.
Liu Qian searched his memory. As he recalled, Gerion's ultimate fate was to vanish into Valyria's cursed Smoking Sea...
Liu Qian's heart clenched.
I haven't even left the starter village, and I'm already being dragged into a hell-level dungeon like Valyria?
He instinctively looked around for a way to escape, but the boundless blue held him firmly captive.
Just then, a pure, icy light exploded in the depths of his mind without warning.
A system?!
The tremendous shock made Liu Qian's body go rigid, his breath stopping.
The sailors around him continued their noisy chatter. No one noticed anything unusual about the slave boy in the corner.
Liu Qian focused his entire attention inward, and a panel emitting a soft yet impossible-to-ignore white glow appeared clearly in his mind:
Host: Liu Qian Age: 13 (Maximum lifespan: 81 years) Dragon spirit: 0 (Dead magical units have a chance of yielding dragon spirit) Magic power: 0/500 (Passively absorb magic power from the air or actively absorb magic power from magical items) Passive skills: Dragon bloodline (Bloodline purity: 0.05%. Dead magical units have a chance of yielding dragon spirit. 100 dragon spirit = 0.01% bloodline purity. Bloodline purity increases maximum magic power, lifespan, size, dragonfire potency, number of Flame Knights, and number of Dragon Spirit Guardians) True dragon physique (Bloodline purity increases physical strength in true dragon form) Fire wielder (Bloodline purity increases affinity for and immunity to the fire element) Active skills: Dragonfire Breath (Human form: 1-meter-diameter fireball / 5-meter range / costs 1 magic power/second; dragon form: 5-meter-diameter fireball / 25-meter range / costs 5 magic power/second) Wildfire (Human form: 1-meter-diameter dragonfire armor / costs 2 magic power/second; dragon form: 5-meter-diameter flame domain / costs 10 magic power/second) Dragonblood Pact (Form a dragonblood pact with a human to turn them into an absolutely loyal Flame Knight, bestowing dragon blood and reshaping their body. Bloodline purity increases the number of dragonblood pacts. Flame Knights can resurrect the dead as Dragon Spirit Guardians. Bloodline purity increases the number of Dragon Spirit Guardians. Current number of Flame Knights: 1. Cost: 1,000 magic power/use) Ultimate skill: True Dragon Descent: Transform into a true dragon 1 meter long. Bloodline purity increases size. Cost: 1,000 magic power to activate, 1 magic power/second to maintain.
Dragons! Power!
Those two words thundered deep in his soul like ancient war horns, instantly scattering the gloom and humiliation of slavery.
Yet the cold numbers hit him like a bucket of seawater dumped over his head: magic power: 0/500.
Forget using skills-he could not even produce a spark right now.
That tantalizing True Dragon Descent required a full 1,000 points just to activate.
Sensing the sparse magic power in the air and seeing that the magic power pool on his system panel had not budged, Liu Qian shook his head in frustration.
At this rate, passive absorption would take forever.
Absorbing it from magical items was even more laughable. He was a slave with nothing to his name, not even a decent wooden stick!
And the dragon spirit needed to improve his bloodline purity had to come from dead magical units. Ha. If he could kill magical units, would he still be stuck here as a slave?
Bitterness welled up in him again.
He had his cheat, but the conditions for getting it started were so harsh they inspired despair.
Just then!
An immensely violent, almost frenzied twisting force surged through the heavy fishing net in his hands.
It was far stronger than the struggles of any ordinary school of fish. Caught off guard, Liu Qian was yanked forward, his knees slamming hard against the slippery deck.
"Yidi brat, haven't you eaten? Pull harder!"
Beside him, a bushy-bearded sailor reeking of alcohol cursed crudely, baring his teeth as he hauled harder himself. Several other sailors gathered around to help, swearing all the while.
With great difficulty, they dragged the net out of the water amid splashing and an even stronger fishy stench.
At the bottom of the net, an unusually large shape could be clearly seen thrashing violently.
When they finally hauled it onto the deck and exposed it to the glaring sunlight, the gathered sailors let out a chorus of exclamations mingling surprise with a trace of fear.
It was a strange fish.
Its nearly meter-long body was covered in thick, dark green scales whose edges gleamed with a cold, metallic sheen.
Its head was hideous, bristling with closely packed, serrated fangs. Two cloudy yellow eyes bulged like cheap glass marbles, utterly lifeless.
"Seven Hells! What the fuck is that thing?" A young sailor from Westeros went pale and instinctively stepped back.
"A bastard crawled out of the waters of Valyria. Uglier than the cheapest whore in Lys!"
The bearded sailor spat the curse.
Another seasoned sailor drew the skinning knife at his waist and cautiously bent forward, approaching the monster as it continued its dying struggles.
Liu Qian's heart pounded wildly.
His gaze locked onto the strange fish's cloudy yellow eyes. Deep within that murk, an extremely faint, uncanny light seemed to flicker.
Could this strange fish be a magical unit?
As the thought rose in his mind, the cold "Dragon spirit: 0" on the system panel seemed to catch fire.
At that moment, the sailor killed the fish with a single thrust of his knife, and a hazy orb of light actually emerged from its corpse.
Liu Qian glanced at the people around him. Every sailor seemed oblivious to the orb, as though none of them could see it.
The orb hovered in the air, flickering faintly. It lingered for only a few seconds before plunging into Liu Qian's body.
Dragon spirit +1...
Although it was only 1 point of dragon spirit, nowhere near enough to increase his bloodline purity by 0.01%, Liu Qian's heart surged with towering waves of emotion.
This monster could actually provide dragon spirit?
So that's how it works!
The system said, "Dead magical units have a chance of yielding dragon spirit," but that did not mean he had to kill those magical units himself.
The discovery was like an escape route opening in the darkness, only for reality's iron wall to block it again moments later.
Only monsters containing magic power could provide dragon spirit. Where could he find magical units?
He looked at the strange fish's corpse at his feet, then toward the distant blue horizon, his entire body tensing.
The Valyrian Ruins lay there.
If this strange fish from waters near the cursed land contained a faint trace of magic power and qualified as a "magical unit," then...
That meant the Valyrian Ruins should contain more magical units that could improve his bloodline.
Compared with escaping only to drown in the vast sea, heading to Valyria to improve his bloodline was undoubtedly a tangible path forward.
On the deck, the sailors were still arguing around the strange fish over whether to cook it or throw it back into the sea.
No one noticed that, deep in the once numb, resigned eyes of the slave boy from Yidi standing in the corner, the flame of hope had kindled for the first time.
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