Ice and Fire: Reign of the Dragon.

Chapter 438: Meka Falls
The smoke of gunpowder had not yet dissipated, and ashes were floating on the charred ruins of the castle. Four giant dragons were entrenched outside the collapsed city walls, licking the enemy's blood left on their claws.

"See?" Maekar leaped off the sheep thief's back, crushing a charred skull with his boot. "What a bullshit prophecy." He ripped open the collar of his sweat-soaked leather armor, revealing an old wound on his collarbone that had long since scabbed over. "It's not even a scratch."

Jonniel slid off Sunbow's back, his brown hair stained with cigarette ash. He frowned and looked around. His trained alertness made him feel that this dead battlefield was too quiet. "Don't be careless, Maekar. These hedge knights are good at making traps."

Lusiris was using a dagger to pry the melted iron lock on the castle gate. He turned around and grinned: "Trap? Ha! Now their best skill should be--"

"Roast suckling pig." Seneo suddenly replied in a voice so soft that it was almost inaudible.

The three of them were stunned at the same time, and then burst into laughter. Maika laughed the most wildly: "Seven levels of hell! Silent Seneoer can actually tell jokes!"

In this moment of relaxation.

“Click.”

Meka touched something that triggered a trap hidden in the ground.

The sound of breaking air was sharper than a dragon's roar.

The steel crossbow arrow shot from the shadow of the tree canopy twenty steps away accurately passed through the gap on the right chest of Meka's leather armor. The prince staggered back two steps, and the smile on his face did not even have time to disappear.

"Meka!" Jonniel's roar startled Ribi.

Lusiris's dagger flew out of his hand and hit the place where the mechanism was fired, but there was only a section of rope that was still swinging. Senelor had already flashed behind Meka and held him up before he fell to the ground.

The sheep thief let out a deafening wail. The old dragon's peat-colored scales all exploded, its long neck swung wildly, and its tail swept down three oak trees. Jonniel had to order Sunbow to hold down the mad old dragon. The black dragon's claws plowed deep grooves in the ground, and Moondance suppressed the sheep thief on the other side. The two dragons kept roaring and finally calmed the old dragon.

Meka's face turned deathly gray at a speed visible to the naked eye. Jonniel tore off his leather armor, and his pupils shrank suddenly. The arrow was completely embedded in his right lung, with only a little bit of the arrow shaft stained with blood sticking out. What was even more terrifying was that the area around the wound had begun to emit a strange green color.

"It's poison!" Lusiris' voice changed. "These bastards coated the arrows with poison!"

Senelor had already cut open his cloak and applied pressure to the wound with skillful hands. The silent dragon knight's eyes were as sharp as a sword at this moment: "It should be the poison of the ghost dancing grass. Damn it, we were careless, Jonil, we must return to King's Landing immediately, the Grand Maester may have an antidote."

Meka suddenly grabbed Jonniel's wristband, and the focus in his purple eyes began to fade: "Tell Reg" a mouthful of blood gushed out of the corner of his mouth, "It's not your fault"

"Shut up!" Jonniel roughly tore off his cloak embroidered with silver dragon laurel leaves and wrapped it around Maekar. "Luciris, Senelor, prepare the dragon saddle, we will take off immediately!"

Jonniel had never hated wind resistance so much.

The black wings of the Sun-Swallow tore a crack in the clouds. On the dragon's back, Maekar was tied to a makeshift stretcher, his face as pale as a corpse. Luthris and Seneior were on the two sides, respectively riding Moon Dance and Cerelis, while the Sheep Thief was escorting the three dragons in the back. The formation of four dragons pushed the speed to the extreme, but Jonniel still felt it was too slow.

Meka's breathing became weaker and weaker, and blood foam flowed from the corners of his mouth with every difficult gasp. The damn crossbow arrow was still stuck under his collarbone, and the arrow shaft had long been broken, leaving only the arrowhead deeply stuck in his lungs. The poison of the ghost dance grass spread with his blood, making his skin appear a strange purple.

"Hold on a little longer," Jonniel whispered, his palm pressed against Maekar's cold forehead. "King's Landing is just ahead."

Maika didn't answer, his pupils began to dilate.

As three dragons flew over Blackwater Bay and swooped down towards the courtyard of the Red Keep, King Rhaegal I was in the throne room listening to a report on the aftermath of the plague from Lord Justice Alan Tarly.

"Your Majesty, we have roughly completed the initial control of the Royal Territory. After His Majesty Meka cleared out the bandits in the southern part of the Royal Territory, the families involved took the initiative to accept the officials sent by King's Landing, and the resettlement of the refugees has basically been completed."

Before he finished speaking, a deafening dragon roar tore through the gloomy air.

Reg looked up suddenly, and the parchment in his hand fell to the ground. He was too familiar with the hoarse roar of the sheep thief, but at this moment, the voice was filled with unprecedented pain.

The king immediately had a bad feeling. He didn't even wait for the servants to push open the door, he just rushed out. The crude crown hung crookedly on his messy silver hair, and the heavy royal robe dragged behind him, which he pulled off roughly and threw on the ground.

"Meka!"

His roar froze the guards in the courtyard.

Jonniel was carefully unloading the stretcher from Sunbow's back, and Maekar lay on it, his face as pale as old parchment. A broken crossbow bolt was still lodged below his collarbone, and the leather armor around him was soaked purple with blood.

"What's going on?!" Reg knelt beside his brother, his fingers trembling above the wound, not daring to touch it.

"A trap." Jonniel's eyes were as cold as ice. "Those damn bandits set traps around the castle, and Maekar accidentally triggered one. This arrow was coated with the juice of the ghost dancing grass."

Luthris and Seneoir stood in silence on either side, the three dragons snorting uneasily behind them.

Grand Maester Harris rushed over with six assistants, their white robes fluttering as they ran. But when he checked the wound, his wrinkled face instantly lost its color.

"Your Majesty." His voice trembled, "The arrow has pierced the lungs, and the poison of the ghost dancing grass has spread to the heart veins."

Reg grabbed the front of the Grand Maester's white robe and said, "Then take it out! Use all your skills!"

"He will suffocate immediately if we take it out," Harris said desperately, "and the location of the arrow is too dangerous. I can't guarantee that the antidote can neutralize the poison."

Lusiris suddenly punched the stone wall, his knuckles burst and bled: "Waste!"

In the shadows of the corner, the one eye of Marquis Brynden, who had hurried over, suddenly shrank when he heard the word "ghost dancing grass", but became firmer when he heard Harris's judgment. He walked quietly to Reg's side and said in a low voice: "We need Damion. Only Damion can treat this level of injury."

Reg looked up suddenly, a glimmer of hope in his purple eyes: "Dragon Nest City"

"I'll go." Blood Crow had already turned around, "Blood Eye is faster than Raven."

He glanced at the incompetent Grand Maester. "Maekar must be alive until I return."

Harris still had some confidence in this. Demon Dance Grass was a common poison and not that violent. In addition, Meka was sent back in time, so it would not be a problem to keep him alive.

No one had ever seen Brynden so anxious. When he rushed to the dragon stables in the courtyard, the white robe iron guards avoided him. A moment later, a white dragon with red eyes rose from the deepest tower of the Red Keep. The "blood-eyed" dragon was not big, but its wings flapped at an astonishing frequency. In the blink of an eye, it turned into a white dot in the southern sky.

Rhaeg personally moved Maekar to the king's chambers. When the servants tried to help, he angrily drove them all away, leaving only Jonil and his three companions and the maesters.

"Remember, little brat?" Reg wiped his brother's burning forehead with a wet cloth, and his voice suddenly became soft. "When you were seven years old and sneaked out of the dragon's lair, you had the same fever."

Maekar did not respond. His breathing was so weak that his chest could hardly be seen rising and falling, and only the occasional twitching of his fingers proved that he was still alive. The maesters nervously cleaned the wound, drained the poisonous blood, and kept feeding the prince different drugs to maintain his life.

Lusiris leaned against the window, his silver hair ruffled by the night wind. He had never seen Reg like this before. The king, who had always been gentle, calm, and fair, was now holding his brother's hand tightly, as if this could stop his life from slipping away.

Seneoor suddenly spoke, his voice so soft that it was almost inaudible: "Bloodeye is one of the fastest dragons in existence."

Jonniel looked toward the dark night sky in the south, silently calculating the time. If he was lucky enough, Damion was not playing with the corpse in the basement, and Brynden could bring Damion back late at night.

I hope Meka can be saved.

(End of this chapter)