Ice and Fire: Reign of the Dragon.

Chapter 416: The End of Black Fire
As the port bells rang midnight, the door of Blackfire's mansion was burst open.

"Don't leave any one alive." The scarred mercenary in the lead said coldly, the cold light of the unsheathed long sword reflected the tattoo on his face.

The first to fall was six-year-old Diana Blackfyre, Aemon's eldest daughter, with silver hair braided in the style of the Riverlands. She had just poked her head out of the stairs holding her doll when the knife glided across her slender neck. The head rolled down the steps, the doll still tightly grasped in her tiny hands.

"No!" Lady Rohanne, who witnessed her granddaughter being killed in the bedroom, let out a horrifying scream, but it was quickly drowned out by the sound of metal collision. "Unsullied, where are the Unsullied! Come and protect your little master!"

On the second floor corridor, Aegon's eldest son Aerion Blackfyre grabbed the fireplace poker and stood in front of his sister Rhaena. The sellsword's axe roughly smashed the skull of the boy who had just learned to use a wooden sword. Rhaena stared at her brother who fell limply. Before she could react, another sellsword's spear pierced the girl's heart.

Shaking off the girl's blood, the mercenaries searched the entire mansion indifferently. They seemed to be well aware of what had happened to the Blackfyre family over the years. Aemon's son Hagen stood in front of his brother Viegand's baby room, trying to stop the mercenaries, but he was too young.

The boy's slender neck was more fragile than paper. When the mercenary kicked open the door of the baby's room, the boy's head with his eyes open was kicked into the baby's room, as if threatening the trembling nanny.

The nurse did not reveal the location of Viegon, and the loyal woman was greeted by the spears of the mercenaries. The poor woman thought that these mercenaries were just like the Free Cities mercenaries in her impression, and would choose her instead of the baby she hid in the extinguished fireplace when they saw her naked body.

It's a pity that these people are not real mercenaries.

The soldier holding a spear pierced the woman's chest expressionlessly. The faint fishy smell made the dying woman completely despair.

The Unsullied. Why did the Unsullied, who were supposed to protect the mansion,
"the last one!"

The Unsullied poked the baby in the fireplace with a spear with an expressionless face. The blood instantly soaked the ashes. He pounded the baby a few more times, picked it out of the fireplace, and displayed it to everyone.

The spear tip twitched, and the baby fell back into the fireplace.

"Don't bother." The mercenary leader stopped his companion who was trying to light the fireplace: "Send Rohanni to Tyrosh."

When Lady Rohanne rushed out of the bedroom, she saw the brutal soldiers killing her grandchildren one by one. Aerion Blackfyre's bloody head rolled to the old woman's feet. Blood splattered on the family portrait on the wall, adding a scarlet cloak to Daemon Blackfyre in the painting.

“No, no.” The old woman fell to her knees, scratching the bloody floor with her dry fingers. “Where is my son? Where is my son?”

"You should have surrendered to Lady Daniela back then," the mercenary leader told the desperate Lady Rohanne before setting fire to the mansion. "At least you could have kept a child, instead of being like this today."

"I should have surrendered. I should have surrendered."

Lady Rohanne's mansion is burning.

The scimitars of the Lys soldiers had cut off the last of Blackfyre's bloodline. The flames devoured the hidden family sigil of the three-headed black dragon, the remains of Daemon Blackfyre's descendants, and the last of Lady Rohanne's regret.

And in the deepest secret room of the mansion, the black fire dragon eggs were trembling in the high temperature and the passing of life.

The stone patterns on the eggshell were cracked inch by inch, and a dark red glow seeped out from the fine cracks, like lava flowing under thin ice.

click -

Centroros hovered over the city of Lys, its dark green scales glowing with a cold metallic luster in the moonlight. It was supposed to be watching over the burning Blackfire Mansion to ensure that the mission was completed, but some more primitive instinct suddenly seized it.

The scent of dragon blood.

Fresh, hot, and carrying the magical pulse unique to newborn dragons. Cendros's nasal cavity expanded, and his dragon pupils shrank into thin lines. He smelled the faint scent that was almost covered by the fireworks, and Cendros realized what it was almost immediately. It was a baby dragon that had just hatched.

Cannibalism is not uncommon among dragons. The Glutton who was once killed by Wormisol was a ferocious dragon addicted to eating dragons. However, few dragons are as keen on devouring their own kind as the Glutton, especially their own young.

But young dragons with abundant magic power are indeed excellent food, or at least a rare delicacy.

Without hesitation or waiting for its master's command, the ferocious dragon folded its butterfly-patterned wings and swooped down. Its tail club cut through the air, making a sharp whistle, and its antler-like dragon crown pierced through the night fog. In its eyes, the city below was just a hunting ground where it could not be too reckless, and the young dragon was its only prey.

The baby dragon has just emerged from its eggshell.

Its scales were still wet, and the dark black was tinged with a deep purple hue, like unsolidified lava. Its wings were stuck to the translucent fetal membrane, and every struggle made its fragile bones make a slight crackling sound.

It was very weak, but its instinct told it that it had to leave here. The fire, the smoke, the smell of death, everything made it uneasy. And the smell of predators also frightened the young dragon.

"Hiss-"

It let out its first weak cry, trying to call its mother, but it didn't know that its "blood relative" had already turned to ashes - or that it was born from the blood of its "blood relative".

Just then, a shadow fell over it.

The hot wind caused by Centros's landing almost knocked the young dragon over. The dragon's claws grabbed the burning beam, sparks flew everywhere. It lowered its head, and its molten golden vertical pupils locked on the young dragon. The sulfur smell from its nostrils made the young dragon curl up instinctively.

The young dragon trembled and tried to spit out a wisp of black smoke as a deterrent.

Too late.

"Crack!"

The fangs of Cendros pierced the dragon's body. The scream of the black dragon cub stopped abruptly, and the crisp sound of broken bones was drowned out by the roar of the collapsed house.

The giant dragon tilted its head back to swallow, the baby dragon's tail still twitching between its teeth as it finally slid into its throat.

Dan Varese was watching from a distant tower until Senderos suddenly disappeared from sight.

When he arrived, he only saw the giant dragon licking its teeth with satisfaction, and a few drops of hot dragon blood that had not yet evaporated on the ground.

As if he understood what had happened, Dan stained his fingertips with the drop of blood and let out a long sigh.

"Pity"

Regret creeps onto Dan's face. It is right to root out the problem, but the dragon...
There is one less dragon in the world.

Centroros growled, with no guilt in his eyes. To a giant dragon, its weaker counterparts were nothing more than prey.

Just eat it.

(End of this chapter)