Game of Thrones: The Black Dragon King

Outside Slave Bay, the sky is blue, the sea is blue, and the white clouds in the sky are just as white.

No wonder teachers at the school love to emphasize using scenery to express emotions, and vice versa. When you're in a good mood, even ordinary scenery seems unusually pleasing to the eye.

Sunlight pierced through the clouds, casting a golden glow on the shimmering sea.

A gentle breeze carried the unique salty taste of the sea.

The seagulls in the distance were also big and fat, looking quite festive.

It was as if, at this moment, all worries had vanished with the wind.

He burned down the House of Black and White, slaughtered a bunch of followers of the Many-Faced God, killed an unknown but considerable number of Faceless Men, and caused a ruckus in Braavos. Reed's mind was exceptionally clear.

Night Fury seemed to sense Reed's pleasure, deliberately lowering its flight altitude and gently touching the water's surface with its tail, creating countless ripples.

Reed closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and stretched out his hand, feeling the gentle breeze caressing his fingertips.

"Your expression reminds me of the first time I rode a dragon!" A hoarse, uniquely melodious voice in High Valyrian called out, startling Reid.

"Hiss~!" Night Fury suddenly turned to the side, flapped its wings and soared into the air, creating a safe distance.

A lean, scarlet dragon glided silently in the distance. Because it wasn't flapping its wings, neither the relaxed man nor the dragon noticed its approach.

Looking at the distinctive greyhound-like physique, scarlet scales, and long, twisted, serpentine neck, as well as the unruly face of the rider on the dragon's back, Reed immediately recognized him: Damon Targaryen.

Because of the distance and the wind noise during flight, the two sides could not communicate verbally.

Damon gestured downwards with his arm, then deliberately lowered his stance. Did that mean... let's talk?

Reed felt a chill run down his spine. Damon's appearance was no accident. He wondered what this Targaryen he had never met wanted to see him about. But since the other party had offered to make peace, he decided to have a chat.

In terms of strength, Reed wasn't intimidated. The Night Fury was already over 100 meters tall, second only to the three founding dragons, Vaghar, while "Bloodworm" Korakshu was smaller than "Bronze Fury" Vomisor. Of course, a dragon's combat power can't be simply equated with its size. In terms of ferocity, Korakshu could take on Vaghar one-on-one. In terms of fighting to the death, Reed thought it was a 50/50 chance; in terms of self-preservation, Reed believed it wouldn't be a problem.

Night Fury seemed to sense the change in atmosphere as well. It steadily adjusted its flight attitude, maintaining a distance that was neither too close nor too far from Damon's Korakshue, and slowly descended.

The two sides eventually landed on a relatively flat beach.

Kolacshu: "Hiss~! Eek~! Eek~! Eek~!"

Night Fury: "Hiss~!"

The two dragons displayed their power with their unique roars.

"Quiet!"

"Relax, buddy!"

Damon and Reid each reassured their companion in Higher Valyrian.

Damon was the first to leap off Corakshu's back, landing steadily on the beach, his figure appearing exceptionally tall in the setting sun. Reid followed suit, jumping off the Night Fury's back and maintaining a polite distance from Damon as they sized each other up.

Damon's figure is tall, lean and strong. Standing there with the Valyrian steel sword "Dark Sisters" by his side, his chiseled face, long silver-gold hair, and smart leather clothes, combined with the sinister and fierce aura of "Bloodworm" Korakshyu behind him, perfectly recreate that world-famous painting.

In comparison, Red's attire seemed rather incongruous.

First of all, he has a youthful face. Although he has silver hair and purple eyes, his physical age of 16 gives him a soft facial curve, lacking the rugged lines and weathered look that men crave.

Secondly, his attire was a very eclectic mix. He wore a windproof leather jacket underneath a newly acquired Valyrian plate armor, a Lei Feng hat with custom-made copper-framed goggles on the top, a lambskin life vest around his neck, a silk parachute pack on his back, a barrel helmet hanging on his belt, and a bunch of miscellaneous items such as a Mil Eye, dagger, water bottle, map bag, condiment box, and dry food bag hanging around his belt.

Finally, his aura was lacking. Despite carrying his newly acquired Valyrian steel sword, he resembled a vagabond struggling to survive in the wilderness, relying on the Night Fury to maintain his imposing presence.

Damon found it very strange...

"I am Damon Targaryen. You should have heard of me." Damon's voice was deep and powerful.

"Reed Seris, a wanderer seeking stability." Reed introduced himself simply. In this world, strength and status determine everything; a man should be ruthless and taciturn.

"I've heard some things about you; it seems you have some kind of unpleasantness with Meereen?"

Reed smiled slightly, not denying it: "They provoked me, so I taught them a lesson."

Damon raised an eyebrow, a hint of admiration flashing in his eyes: "I like your style. However, your actions may make you the enemy of many."

"Enemy? Those without dragons are not worthy of that title."

Damon laughed heartily, seemingly enjoying Reed's arrogance immensely: "Very well, I admire you! However, I've come to see you today for something else."

"Would you like to hear more details?"

"You have a very powerful partner; I think we can cooperate."

"?"

"My older brother doesn't like me. As the second son, I have to fight tooth and nail for everything that the eldest son can get so easily, and rely on myself..."

"Excuse me, but I am the eldest son, and also the only son. I enjoy all of my parents' love, as well as all the family's resources and upbringing."

"·····"

Damon paused for a moment, clearly not expecting Reed to have this background. His lips twitched slightly as he continued the conversation: "It seems our circumstances are not entirely the same, but our desire for power and freedom is the same."

Reid nodded slightly. Regardless of one's background, strength is the most important thing.

"Tell me about your cooperation plan," Reed said casually, wanting to know what Damon was really up to.

Damon's smile faded. "I'm utterly disappointed in my brother. Coupled with those rumors about you, I've discovered another path to honor and profit, a new road to power. I want to start anew outside the Seven Kingdoms and seize a territory. I've discovered you're doing the same thing. So, could I help you, and you help me?"

Damon's words made Reed's eyes flicker as he quickly calculated in his mind. He was indeed eyeing territory, but not just one piece; he was aiming for pieces here and there: Slave Bay, a disputed territory, the Lorne River basin, and another…

Territory is very important to the nobles of Westeros! Even Targaryen dragon riders would live in poverty if they had no territory and relied solely on royal annuities.

Queen Renia had no fiefdom and lived as a guest in Casterly Rock, Fairy Isle, and Harrenhal. Her dragons and dragon blood were coveted by others.

After Aeneas succeeded him, Maegor rode "Black Death" Belial and wandered around Essos, hoping to make a name for himself, but he accomplished nothing.

Damon's hatred for Rhea Royce, calling her a "bronze bitch," is largely a rebellion against the restrictions imposed on him by his predecessors and fathers regarding his status as the second son. He is a powerful and arrogant dragon king with a dragon, yet he has no fiefdom or power and can only rely on marriage to live off women.

For Reid, territory was equally important. He needed territory and its inhabitants to provide labor, soldiers, provisions, taxes, and all sorts of other resources to support his ambition to conquer a vast territory.

However, cooperating with the Targaryen family is undoubtedly a risky move. Damon's ambition and strength make him a dangerous man.

"Details? How do you want me to help you, and how do you plan to help me?"

"The people of Meereen want to employ me, to use my dragons against yours, but a proud dragon king is never employed. The only way to win the friendship of a dragon king is through the friendship of another. When you attack Meereen, I will ride my dragon to help you, and at the same time, I can help you establish ties with Westeros and gain some noble allies from the Seven Kingdoms. Afterward, I will seize the opportunity to attack the Stepstone Isles, and at that time I will need your dragons and your army."

Upon hearing this, Reed frowned slightly. Damon's efforts were disproportionate to the rewards he demanded, but this was a form of veiled extortion that Reed couldn't refuse.

If Damon cannot remain an ally in the next steps regarding Meereen and even the entire Slaver's Bay, he will be a hidden danger; if he chooses to help the Geese, it will be even worse, he will become a huge threat! After all, Reid only has one dragon rider, and only the Night Fury.

Furthermore, the Targaryen family has always maintained strict control over dragons, the ultimate strategic weapon, and has been extremely vigilant against the emergence of a second dragon-dominant family.

Long ago, Rhaenyar Targaryen's best friend, Elisa, stole three dragon eggs and ran to Braavos to exchange them for gold for shipbuilding. King Jaehaerys threatened war in response, while Aquaman countered with "some special skill" of the Faceless Men. Amid the panic of dropping nuclear bombs on each other, the two sides compromised. Braavos successfully kept the dragon eggs, but could only lock them in the vault and watch them turn to stone. The Iron Throne, on the other hand, defaulted on a huge debt to the Iron Vault.

Today, if the Valerian family hadn't split their dragons first, and if the Night Fury hadn't been a fully grown dragon, Reid wouldn't have been greeted by Damon's invitation to cooperate, but rather by Corakshyu's merciless claws and dragonfire.

After all, Damon is also a Targaryen.

Reid took a deep breath, having made up his mind. The deal, though unfair, was the best solution given the current situation; he had to put aside his dissatisfaction for the time being.

"Let's get this straight: in this collaboration, or rather, transaction, you're the one who pays first. Aren't you worried I might renege on my payment later?"

"Your word is your bond!"

He understands me! He understands me! Reed was deeply shaken. It wasn't the gratitude of being understood, nor the camaraderie of finding a kindred spirit, but a profound unease at being seen through!

Reed didn't say anything more, but just looked deeply at Damon, then slowly nodded, indicating that he accepted the proposal.

Seeing this, Damon smiled smugly. "Very well, I believe we won't let each other down. So, why don't you invite me to your camp?"

Reed forced a smile, trying to appear nonchalant: "Of course, please!"

The two dragons flew together toward the valley that Reid was building in the Kaiser Mountains.

……

Kaisai Pass, a river valley.

Looking down from the sky, the wheat fields stretched as far as the eye could see, herds of cattle and sheep grazed, houses stood in neat rows, and the mines on the mountains were shrouded in smoke. The workshops in the city clattered and clanged, and the mills, bakeries, breweries, and storage areas were piled high with supplies. In particular, there was a tall and majestic pass that stretched like a long dragon across the mountain pass, with giant crossbows, catapults, archers, and armored soldiers densely packed on it. Damon was extremely envious! This scene was even more prosperous and powerful than Runestone City.

Reid gave advance notice and suspended some production activities, otherwise it would be even more troublesome if people saw the wheat fields and the cattle and sheep growing at a rate that violated the laws of nature.

Riding his Night Fury close to Kolachou, Reid shouted and gestured, "The open space next to the lord's manor!"

Damon understood and gave the OK sign he had just learned.

Night Fury growled, adjusted its direction, and swooped down toward the open space beside the lord's manor. As it descended, the details of the ground became clearer, and Damon could clearly see the busy servants and patrolling soldiers in front of the manor.

Reed skillfully maneuvered the Night Fury, landing steadily on the open ground. Damon followed closely behind, and as soon as he dismounted, he looked around curiously. The architectural style here was completely different from that of Westeros, much simpler and more practical, and all he could see were newly built structures, with splinters still visible at the broken ends of the timber.

Red stopped a passing baker, took a second loaf of bread from the stack of freshly baked bread still steaming hot, broke off a piece and handed it to Damon, then pulled out a salt shaker from his belt pouch, twisted it open, and sprinkled some on the bread.

"That's too perfunctory!" Damon said, pursing his lips.

"At the beginning of our business, conditions are simple, please forgive us!" Reed said with a smile.

Damon took a bite. Unlike the sliced ​​bread at the banquet, which had cooled and hardened and was drizzled with lemon juice, this freshly baked bread had a soft texture and a rich wheat flavor. The salt grains were mixed with a moderate amount of pepper, which made the dissolute prince, who had been starving all day, find it surprisingly palatable.

"Give me one more."

Reed tossed him the bread and added, "Don't stuff yourself; you should still have a small dinner."

He then patted the Night Fury on the neck to comfort his weary companion, and arranged for his servants to feed the dragon and prepare a feast, fulfilling his duties as host.

Later, Reed served Damon four dishes.

"I don't have any decent wines, but the beer brewed in our territory is alright. This is just a simple meal, nothing special, please make do," Reed said.

On the rough, long table in the reception room lay a prepared roasted leg of lamb, fried eggs in butter, stewed beef, and sliced ​​apples arranged on a plate. The main course was white bread, accompanied by beer.

For a banquet intended for royalty, the dishes could only be described as meager, with simple ingredients, lacking in spices, and the only redeeming quality being the chef's sincerity. In any noble castle or wealthy manor in Westeros or Essos, a guest eating such a meal would assume the host's fortunes had declined.

Born into royalty, Damon knew how to enjoy life, but he also possessed the demeanor of a warrior, not bothering to complain about the harshness of the environment or the simplicity of the food. He sat down without any hesitation and began to feast.

Reed joined them for the meal; after a long journey, they were starving.

After a hearty meal and drinks, the dissolute prince leaned back in his seat, propping his legs up on the table without any regard for appearances, and sipped his beer from a wooden mug. He unexpectedly enjoyed the rich malt flavor and refreshing taste of the beer. "What's next, kid?"

"Smash them all the way! Head-on showdown!"

"You're so confident!"

"With its flat terrain and dragons in the sky, the people of Meereen have no opportunity to engage in those fancy tricks."

"It doesn't matter, I only have one person and one dragon anyway, the rest are your soldiers."

"They could be your soldiers in the future."

Damon took a sip of his drink and said nothing more.