Ice and Fire: Reign of the Dragon.

Chapter 381 The Disobedient Child
Thick fog floated over the Mead River in Oldtown. When the maesters pushed open the door of Prince Aemon's chamber, they found only a cold body on the bed. The old prince's silver hair still maintained the elegant curve of his life, but the light in his purple eyes had been extinguished. His hands were folded in front of his chest, and in his hands he was still holding the last comfort of his last moments of life - an ornament woven from his wife's hair.

Princess Nailisi's scream woke up the entire palace.

"They stole the dragon!" She grabbed the butler's robe, her nails almost digging into his flesh. "That little bastard Rehoga, with Baerlon - they stole the sea smoke!"

This was not the first time Rehogar Targaryen had sneaked into a dragon's lair.

When his father Maegon was still alive, the boy liked to sneak into the dragon's courtyard every night and feed Haiyan with stolen raw mutton. This silver-gray old dragon once carried Prince Aemon to conquer the land, but now it curled up in the shadows, its scales dull like old armor - its old master was no longer able to fly into the sky, and Haiyan naturally became a little listless.

"Lykirī (Calm)" Leihoga stroked the dragon's neck with trembling hands, and two streams of white smoke with a sulfur smell came out of Haiyan's nostrils, but did not bite him.

When his brother, Baeron, ran over with the stolen dragon saddle, Lei Huojia had already climbed onto the dragon's back. Haiyan's spine hurt his thigh, but the boy held on to the edge of the scales tightly.

"Damon is right," he held out his hand to his stunned brother, "a real dragon should not be chained. A real dragon should live his life the way a real dragon should live."

Baelon's tears sparkled in the moonlight, but he still grabbed his brother's hand.

The wind created by the spread wings of the sea smoke blew out the light of the Old Town Lighthouse.

It took a day for the news of the theft of Sea Smoke to reach King's Landing.

Daeron and Ringol didn't know what to say for a moment, so they could only send raven messages to Igor, Serena, and Megen who was heading to the West.

The naughty kid messed up the plan.

As the war machine of Westeros slowly starts up, the fate of the East also begins to change.

The Governor's Palace in Tyrosh is always filled with the smell of spices and intrigue. The stained glass filters the glaring sunlight from the Narrow Sea, casting colorful snake patterns on the marble floor.

When Balmi stepped into the hall, the blood on the soles of his boots left dark red footprints on the ivory tiles. He held two dragon eggs tightly in his arms, and the dark red pulse on the eggshells was as clear as a heartbeat.

"Ma'am." He knelt on one knee, his voice hoarse, "I have fulfilled your mission."

Daenerys Varese, Ringol's wife, with silver hair tied in a royal corsage and purple eyes as sharp as Valyrian steel, stepped out of the shadows, her fingers running over the egg, sensing the faint vibrations from within.

"very good."

Balmy was deeply moved by a word of High Valyrian spoken by Lady Daenerys.

"It is my duty, ma'am."

"Very good, Balmi, the war has begun, let's clean up the little rats in the city."

"As you command, ma'am."

The Silver Axe Guard of Tyrosh never use torches—their axe blades glow naturally in the moonlight.

Balmy led the team through brothels and drug alleys, and every shadow could jump out of a desperate dragon chaser. The first casualty was a Volantis mercenary, whose head was split open by an axe while he was devouring lizard meat.

The second victim was a merchant from Lys, who was captured by Palmyra on the spot.

"Have you sent word to Volantis?" Baalmy pressed, stepping on the wounded man's throat.

"No, no." Blood gushed out from between the man's teeth. "What are we?"

The second axe ended the lie.

That night, forty-two bodies were hung from masts in the harbor - all of them had the surnames of the families they claimed to have.

The cleansing officially began. "Daniela, no trace of Igarath was found." Valenna walked into the palace tiredly.

"No?" Daniela also looked a little tired.

"No, Serena should be the one to come. Her Sarah Fathers was the one who killed Igaras."

"It's been so long, who knows if there will be any changes. Besides, Serena is better at dragon training than you and me."

"Keep looking." Valena said calmly, a little crazy. "By the way, Dan and the others should be back by now."

Daniela shook her head. "I don't know."

The sisters were speechless
Conquer land.

Rikka Lakron on the southwest side.

The lighthouse at the port of Ryk'lakron burned like a dying torch in the storm. The vanguard of the Second Sons—three hundred howling Dothraki warriors—rode along the high tide line, their braided bells jingling silently in the wind, a sign of approaching death.

"For the Righteous King!" the leader of the cavalry shouted. His jeweled breastplate gleamed ominously in the darkness. The sound of a thousand weapons being unsheathed was perfectly masked by the thunder.

By the time the port sentinels noticed the anomaly, it was too late. The first wave of arrows came from the sea—they were landing boats disguised as fishing boats. The scale-armored mercenary knights charged on the waves, the spray freezing under their steel boots.

"Light the beacon!" The port commander had just raised the torch when a specially made long arrow pierced his throat. His adjutant caught the fallen torch, but was horrified to find that all the asphalt in the port suddenly caught fire - the Second Sons had mixed in fake dragon fire crystal powder and cans of wildfire in advance.

When reinforcements arrived from Lys, the entire port had become a picture of hell. The heavy cavalry of the Second Sons were charging with the bodies of the port soldiers on their spears, while the Dothraki tied the captives to the tide piles and fed them to crabs. The most terrifying thing was the sea surface - three hundred floating corpses rose and fell with the colorful light of the pseudo-dragon fire crystal, and each face was frozen with a weird smile.

The walls of Leaf Lake Fort were burning.

Lord Eustace Osgrey stood on the balcony of the keep, his gauntlet gripping his bloodstained sword. His armor was dented and cracked, and the flames had singed a corner of his dark green cloak. On the battlefield below the city, the Second Sons' mercenaries surged in like a tide, their banners - three black dragons on a red field - fluttering in the smoke.

In stark contrast to the royal banner, this army was proven to be in open rebellion.

"Father! The city gate is broken!" Adam Osgrey, his face covered in blood, staggered over to report.

Eustace did not answer. He looked across the battlefield to the three figures on the hillside in the distance - Gary Peake, Grand Master of the Second Sons, riding an armored warhorse, grimly watching the one-sided battlefield; young Podrick was leading the charge himself; and William Hill was commanding the archers to suppress the defenders on the city wall.

"Let the women and children evacuate through the secret passage," Eustace finally spoke, his voice as hoarse as sand, "and the rest of you... follow me to defend the main castle."

His eldest son Adam's lips trembled, but he nodded and turned to run deeper into the castle.

The chaos did not stop at the conquered lands; both the Bolton family and the Red Tully family were attacked.

The Duke of Pole, the old fox known for his "silver tongue", gently swirled his glass, and the amber wine reflected the sinister face of Count Reyes.

"Eustace will not survive the night," said Pole, smiling. "Once Lake Leaf falls, all the granaries of the Conquest will be ours."

The red lion emblem of Count Reyes shone like blood in the candlelight. "Fireball promised us that as long as we control the port of the conquered land, the dragon will come to support us."

"Dragons? How many dragons does Daemon have compared to the royal family and the silver dragons?" Bol chuckled. "I believe more in real money. The Second Sons want spoils and recognition, and we want power and land."

The servant quietly presented a letter with the Second Sons' emblem printed on the wax. Pol opened the letter, his purple eyes quickly scanned the words on the parchment, and a sneer appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"Tell Galwen," he said, rising slowly, "that this is good work, but don't expose us."

(End of this chapter)