Ice and Fire: Reign of the Dragon.

Chapter 425: Baelor Targaryen I

Dragon's Lair, the death of King Daeron cast a heavy shadow over the entire King's Landing. If King's Landing had not promptly blocked the news of the Prime Minister's illness, it would probably have been even worse.

Ringol stood in the shadows, his breathing heavier than usual, every breath like a knife scraping through his lungs. The plague had not defeated him, but time and sorrow had worn him out. Two servants supported him, their arms wrapped in linen soaked in vinegar, as if this could keep out the smell of death.

In front of him was a dark oak table with a faded Targaryen three-headed red dragon banner on it. On the table were two crowns.

The first one is the golden circle crown of Daeron II. It is plain and smooth, with only a ruby ​​with many impurities in the middle. This is the symbol of "Good King" Daeron, symbolizing peace and unity, and the support of the common people for the royal family.

The second one is the Iron Sword Crown of Jacaerys I. Forged from black iron, it is shaped like seven swords interlaced, with the sword tips pointing upwards, revealing their sharp edges. This is the symbol of the King of Peace, representing the end of war and the healing of scars.

Ringol's fingers gently brushed across the two crowns, and his silver-gray eyes turned to Beile.

"Choose, Your Majesty." His voice was low and hoarse, "Golden Ring, or Iron Sword?"

Baylor's eyes wandered between the two crowns for a moment, and then he extended his hand without hesitation.

He took up his father's golden crown.

"Westeros does not need more swords," he whispered, rubbing his fingertips over the dragon mark. "It needs healing and the support of the common people."

Lingol nodded slowly, with a barely visible smile on his face.

"Then kneel, Baelor Targaryen."

The Archbishop and the Bishops of the Church of the Seven Gods were almost wiped out by the plague, and they could not choose a suitable person to preside over the coronation of the new king. This heavy responsibility could only be handed over to the weak Prime Minister.

Beile knelt on one knee, the gravel hurting his knee. Ringol held the golden ring in both hands, his arms trembling slightly due to weakness, but his movements were still firm.

"In the name of a warrior, I give you courage." The crown hovered above Beile's head. Although Ringol's voice was weak, it was as unshakable as iron.

"In the name of the Virgin Mary, I have mercy on you."

"In the name of the Father, I will give you justice."

"In the name of the blacksmith, I grant you strength."

"In the name of the girl, I give you hope."

"In the name of the old woman, I grant you wisdom."

"In the name of the stranger." Lingol paused for a moment, looking past Beile and looking at the pile of corpses outside the dragon cave. Star Song and Dream Fire alternately burned the piles of corpses, ".Give you determination."

The crown fell, so lightly that it was almost silent, yet it felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.

"Arise, Baelor of House Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, and Lord of the Iron Throne."

Beile raised his head, and the golden ring shone softly in the firelight. It was not as bright as a pure gem, nor as sharp as an iron sword, but only silently spoke of "unity" and "friendship of the common people".

Beile stood up and turned to face the outside of the dragon's lair, where the survivors were kneeling in the mud, with coughing, wailing, and prayers mixed together.

He did not give a long speech, promise victory or even mention his father.

He only said one sentence:

"From today on, the king and you will drink from the same pot of water and sleep on the same ground until this plague ends or we die together."

Then he took off the crown and handed it to the maester beside him.

"Melt it."

The maester looked up in shock: "Your Majesty?"

"The common people forged this crown for my father. Now I want to return it to the common people. Maester, let Earl Harry take out all the golden crowns in the royal treasury and melt them. Gold can buy medicine and food, but crowns cannot." Baylor's voice was unquestionable, "Crowns can be recast, but human lives cannot."

Lingol closed his eyes, as if he had finally let go of a burden. In Dragon's Nest, Rey Varese's private study.

The flames in the fireplace reflected the Valyrian steel sword on the wall. The sword had a dark red luster, as if it was still whispering the ancient origin of blood and fire. The old dragon king Rey Varezes, who had lived for nearly a century, sat in a high-backed chair, stroking a dull black scale with his skinny fingers.

Those were the scales of Shadow Nightmare, his old companion, the skeletal black dragon.

"Great uncle." Igor stood at the door and said in a low voice, "You shouldn't have attended the funeral."

Lei raised his eyes, his lavender pupils were still as sharp as a sword, without any cloudiness.

"When Valar died, I stood beside him." The old man's voice sounded like sandpaper rubbing against iron. "When Longzel died, I was beside him to witness it. When my son Orion died, I personally watched him being cremated by Hovenders. Now, you want me to hide in the room and wait to die like an old dog?"

Igor was silent. He knew that Rey's longevity was not accidental, and Valyria's original magic had long been integrated into his blood. In that crazy adventure, Longzier, Valar, and Rey went deep into the ruins of Doom, and the three brothers all obtained a lot of good things. If Valar had not collapsed mentally and Longzier had not deliberately not maintained his immortality, the three brothers might have lived for a very long time. However, Igor did not dare to guarantee whether this protection was useful. After all, even in the heyday of ancient Valyria, dragon kings still died of diseases, such as grayscale disease, which was closely related to the water magic curse.

"I'm not here to stop you," Igor said finally, "It's just that the Black Blood Fever is particularly cruel to the elderly."

Rey smiled, revealing the few remaining teeth: "My child, death has given up on me a long time ago."

Unable to persuade Rey, Igor had to allow the old man to attend the funeral of the two Vareses.

In the Varese Cemetery next to the Dragon's Lair, there are two tombs standing side by side.

Serena Varese's coffin was covered with sapphire silk, embroidered with images of her dragon, Sarafathers, while Jacaerys's coffin was much plainer, with only his often-used Valyrian steel sword lying across it, a symbol of his achievements.

Serena died because of her decisiveness and kindness. She forgot the time of the magic amulet, causing old age and illness to destroy her body at the same time. Jacaerys died of old age and weakness.

Hoffa stood at the edge of the crowd, looking at the two deceased elders with sadness. Little Vallar also squeezed his hand with sadness, because it was his grandmother who passed away.

The crowd parted as Rey approached. The old man was not wearing mourning clothes, but Valyrian steel armor they had brought from the ruins of Valyria.

"Serena loved beauty." Ray placed a bouquet of sky blue roses on her coffin. "Jack only cared about practicality, just like the little guy he was named after."

He reached out and stroked the two coffins, his eyes filled with sadness.

Daenerys stood not far away, with a kind of determination flashing in her purple eyes. She was originally a candidate rider for Shadow Nightmare, but at this moment, she looked at Rey's back and suddenly understood something.

There is no end in sight for Rei's life, but she is no longer a girl.

She turned away immediately after the funeral and headed towards the dragon's lair, where Sarah Fathers was waiting for its new master.

Dragon's lair.

Sarafathers lowered his head and sniffed Daenerys's silver hair. His pupils were like perfectly cut gemstones, reflecting her determined face.

"Lyks." she whispered.

The dragon was silent for a moment, then suddenly lowered its long neck.

When Daenerys rode on the dragon's saddle decorated with flowers, the bells of Dragon's Nest rang, not a death knell, but a new dawn.

At the moment when Sarafathers took off from the dragon's lair, Ray, who was standing alone on the city wall, smiled with relief.

Igor came over and said, "Sister finally let go of her obsession with Shadow Nightmare. She finally flew into the sky she always dreamed of."

Lei Yi sighed and said faintly: "Igor, there is no need to worry about me. Do you know why I never get sick?"

Without waiting for an answer, the old man cut his palm, and the blood that flowed out actually had a silver glow.

"The symbol of Varese's blood magic is flowing in the blood. Longzel tested it on everyone when he was still alive. You have it, I have it, Dan has it, Ringol has it, Jonniel has it, and Damion has it." He dripped blood on the battlements, and the liquid seeped into the cracks in the stone like a living thing. "Hoffa has it too. Our blood can strengthen Longzel's magic and resist most diseases."

In the distance, Sarafathers carried Daenerys into the sky, and her sapphire scales shone brightly in the sunlight.

(End of this chapter)