Leaving

An intense sense of frustration welled up in him, as though all his efforts and brief respite had been nothing but a joke.

He did not know what awaited them ahead, but at least he would not be coming back here anytime soon.

Redd found a relatively dry rock and plopped down, letting the mountain wind tousle the unruly hair over his forehead.

Taking advantage of this rare chance to catch his breath, he forced himself to calm down and began carefully sorting through the strange events that had occurred one after another.

Those three instances of abnormal volcanic activity kept replaying in his mind,

especially the scene of the final eruption-that world-destroying force that had torn through the earth's crust and burst forth,

which bore a startling resemblance to the apocalyptic catastrophe that had destroyed the former Valyrian Freehold, as he had later learned from some fragmentary ancient books and scattered legends.

The similarities were astonishing.

A chilling thought gradually took shape: the one targeting him was very likely the god lurking behind the scenes, connected to the fall of Valyria!

The culprit who had once dragged all of House Targaryen into the abyss had now set his sights on him.

Redd recalled everything he had done during his more than half a year in the Valyria Ruins:

exploring cautiously, digging up forgotten Dragon Eggs, collecting scattered ancient books, and even hunting down many of the cursed creatures occupying this place to survive.

Could these very actions, like a faint light, have attracted that god who had long been sleeping or hiding,

making him notice Redd's insignificant existence and then want to kill him?

But that did not make sense either.

By rights, gods should all have lived high in the heavens, looking down upon the mortal world, indifferent to mortal trifles, even with an almost arrogant detachment.

Why would one go so far as to wield such world-destroying power, intervening time and again, over some insignificant nobody?

Just how had he offended this "great figure"?

Redd's heart involuntarily began to race, and a string of guesses galloped through his mind like wild horses breaking free of their reins:

Could it be because of the extremely faint yet undeniably present blood of House Targaryen flowing through my veins?

In the eyes of some god, could that bloodline be a "source of contamination" that had to be erased?

Or did the problem lie with the Dragon Eggs and books I dug up?

Could those things be something forbidden, or contain some secret a god did not want known?

Or perhaps...

Had my excessive killing in these ruins violated some ancient, hidden taboo and angered the deity guarding this place?

Though the cursed creatures were evil, they were also part of this land. Could killing too many of them bring a backlash?

Countless possibilities intertwined and collided in his mind, yet none yielded a definite answer.

But there was one thing he could be certain of:

these seemingly desolate Valyria Ruins were by no means as simple as they appeared.

That god must have taken an interest in this place, or been guarding it,

but what exactly the god valued here-slumbering power, lost knowledge, or something else-Redd still had absolutely no idea.

What he could be certain of, however, was that he had stepped fully into this god's "forbidden territory,"

and had successfully attracted its attention, undoubtedly making his situation even more dangerous and uncertain.

Redd sat on the mountaintop for a long time. Only when the sunset's lingering glow stained the clouds on the horizon blood-red did he finally struggle free of his tangled thoughts.

Yet as to which god regarded him as a thorn in its side,

and why that being harbored such deep-seated hatred toward him, he still had no clue.

It felt as though a cold dagger had been held against his throat from behind all along, ready to plunge into his body at any moment and end his life.

This inexplicable, deadly threat frightened and bewildered Redd more than anything.

Though he could make no sense of it, he also knew that now was not the time to delve into it.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to suppress these troubling thoughts for the moment.

"If I can't figure it out, I'll stop thinking about it," he told himself. "Once I'm strong enough to stand against a god, I'll naturally find out who it is.

"When that day comes, I'll make him pay a hundred-a thousand times over!" An unyielding flame flashed in his eyes, only to be swiftly extinguished by cold reality.

He raised his head and looked toward the horizon.

The sun had already sunk westward, casting its last few rays of golden light over the mountain peaks, but that light was rapidly fading, heralding the coming night.

Redd's heart clenched. "We can't stay any longer!" He had witnessed the dangers of the Valyria Ruins, and nighttime was often when even more unknown dangers ran rampant.

On this land watched by a god, the night would undoubtedly be even more perilous.

"Ehm, Aegon, get up. We're leaving!" Without further hesitation, Redd immediately shouted to the two enormous dragons dozing beside him.

Though their wounds had yet to heal and flying would be somewhat strenuous, they had to leave now, even if it took every last ounce of their strength.

The two dragons struggled to their feet and stretched their injured wings, letting out pained groans.

They slowly rose into the air, carrying Redd toward the other side of the mountain range.

Beyond this mountain range, which had witnessed their arrival and departure, their safety and peril, lay a vast expanse of water-the Smoking Sea.

Remembering all the hardships he had endured before, trudging overland to reach the Valyria Ruins,

then looking at the vast world he could now easily fly across simply by riding on a dragon's back, Redd could not help feeling a little wistful.

But his joy was soon replaced by worry. I hope nothing goes wrong over the Smoking Sea either, he silently prayed.

The Smoking Sea was a dangerous stretch of water filled with active volcanoes and black reefs that vented steam,

and even flying through the air meant constantly facing the possibility of volcanic ash obscuring his vision, of being caught in a sudden eruption,

or even of being attacked by unknown dangers hidden in the mist.

More importantly, there was his wariness of that "god."

He did not even know who the other being was, let alone understand his methods.

A god was an existence beyond mortal imagination!

He simply could not imagine what other, stranger, more terrifying ways that being might use against him.

That uncertainty was more unnerving than any specific, known danger.

Redd gripped the dragon's back tightly, his wary gaze sweeping over the churning sea below and the distant mist,

praying that this flight across the Smoking Sea would pass without incident.

Redd was indeed as cautious as someone treading on thin ice.

As soon as the three dragons entered the airspace over the Smoking Sea with him, his nerves immediately tightened.

Throughout the flight, his eyes almost never left the eerie waters below.