Game of Thrones: The Black Dragon King

The salty wind of midnight, carrying the pungent smell of the sea from Alois Island, lashed against Reid's face. The Night Fury's massive wings folded into two inky arcs, clinging to the dark sky, their black scales blending into the faint starlight and moonlight, only its two eerie blue pupils fixed on the lights spread out in the camp below.

The Giscali coalition's blockade fleet was indeed anchored in the shallow bay of Yaros Island. Masts lined the shore, and the ship lights formed a winding silver chain. The campfires on the shore burned brightly, turning the beach a dim red. For Reed and his dragon, this was the most conspicuous target.

Reed lay prone on the dragon saddle, his hands gripping the iron rings tightly. The Night Fury's massive wings snapped shut, and like a black arrow released from a bow, it swooped down close to the anchored fleet, skimming the sea surface.

The wind whistled past their ears, and the ship's lights drew ever closer, until they were about to touch the mast. Then, the Night Fury suddenly flapped its wings and took flight. Reid crouched low, gripping the iron rings of the dragon saddle against the G-force, and roared, "Dragonfire!"

A ghostly blue breath erupted from the Night Fury's fanged jaws, tracing a blinding arc through the night before bursting into a raging inferno. The warship's sails instantly charred and curled, masts snapped in half, and planks crumbled and shattered, crashing into the sea in a burst of flame.

"Enemy attack!" The crew members and sentries' piercing screams suddenly tore through the silence of the night.

The Giskali garrison in the camp was instantly thrown into chaos. Horns and alarm bells rang out urgently. The soldiers didn't even have time to put on their armor before stumbling and rushing towards the ranged weapons on the shore. The archers roared as they turned the winches and cocked the guns, but when they looked up, all they could see was an impenetrable darkness. The black shadow that had just spewed dragon flames had vanished without a trace. Only the low rumble of dragon wings echoed in the air, but it was impossible to tell where it was coming from.

"There! In the direction of the dragon flames!" A centurion roared, pointing to the still-burning warship. The archers immediately turned their crossbows and fired in unison. The bolts shot into the night sky like a black cloud, but only hit the void and fell into the sea, splashing up tiny droplets of water.

Night Fury's figure had already moved to the other side of the camp under the cover of darkness. Another stream of eerie blue fire ripped through the night, burning a row of crossbowmen and their archers to a charred shadow. In the instant the firelight shone, the defenders caught a glimpse of a fleeting black scale, but before they could lock onto their target, the black shadow melted back into the night, leaving only the dragon's deep roar circling in the air like a deadly ghost.

"Ghost Dragon! Ghost Dragon! That demonic dragon is the curse of the night!" someone cried out in the chaos, and fear instantly spread throughout the camp.

The soldiers lost their footing, firing aimlessly into the night sky with scorpion crossbows, mirth crossbows, and ordinary bows and arrows in a chaotic and disorderly manner. Arrows that missed their targets even caused friendly fire injuries, and many people trampled each other in panic. The campfires in the camp were whipped around wildly by the strong winds from the dragon wings, and sparks fell and set their own tents on fire.

Reed lay on the dragon's back, feeling the Night Fury's precise movements with each leap. Under the cover of darkness, the man and the dragon darted back and forth over the shallow bay of Alois Island, only briefly appearing when they breathed dragonfire. Wherever the dragonfire reached, warships exploded, camps collapsed, and crossbows turned to ashes. The Giskari defenders' counterattacks were always in vain. They could only listen to the flapping of wings and roars amidst the raging flames, their hearts gripped by an invisible fear.

The enemy commander's face flickered with uncertain emotions in the ever-changing glow of the dragonfire, as he gazed at the countless campfires and the burning tents and shipwrecks of the camp. He instantly understood the crux of the matter. He roared, his voice cutting through the explosions and wails: "Turn off the lights! Extinguish all the campfires! Get away from the light! Let those lazybones and swine get the ships out of here cleanly!"

The guards immediately scattered and relayed orders. Ignoring their burns and panic, the soldiers frantically extinguished the remaining embers on the ground, kicked over the lampstands, and tore out the mast light.

The action wasn't swift enough, but in the chaotic night, it was remarkably efficient. Within fifteen minutes, most of the camp and harbor, which had been lit by countless campfires and lights, were plunged into darkness, leaving only the flames of the unextinguished tents and shipwrecks continuing to glow. But no one dared to approach.

The surviving warships silently weighed anchor and left the shore in the darkness. The oarsmen rowed with all their might by the faint light of day, and the sails unfurled silently in the night. The entire fleet, like a pile of loose sand, hastily retreated into the dark and distant sea in complete disarray.

No one dared to shout commands, and to remain hidden, they didn't even dare to row after the sails were unfurled. On the huge warship, only the sound of the sea breeze could be clearly heard. Many sailors on deck nervously stared at the dark night sky, even though they couldn't see anything.

"Flap~!" "Flap~!"

The sound of a giant dragon flapping its wings echoed from the sky.

Everyone held their breath and tried their best not to make a sound.

The turbulent airflow caused the mast and sail ropes to creak.

"Hiss!" The eerie blue flames of the dragon suddenly blazed up, illuminating the dragon's ferocious head and half of its massive body. A hundred-oared warship that had been silently gliding through the night was quickly engulfed in flames.

"It can see! It can see!"

"Fool!" Reed sneered from the dragon's back. It was pitch black, and he couldn't see anything. But as long as the dragon could see, that was enough.

Thanks to the special structure of the iris and the sensitive pupil, carnivores have excellent night vision, and dragons, as the top carnivores, have frighteningly good night vision.

Reed simply relinquished command, letting everyone do as they pleased.

A dark blue flame wove a sea of ​​fire across the sea and beach at midnight. One after another, warships anchored in the shallow bay capsized and burned, their wreckage piling up in the churning water. The screams of soldiers were gradually drowned out by the crackling of flames and the rumble of sinking ships. Many ships chose to extinguish their lights and flee in the dark, resulting in frequent collisions in the chaos.

The fortifications on the shore had long since turned to ashes, and the remains of tents and giant crossbows were scattered everywhere. The surviving defenders huddled behind the rocks, not even daring to raise their heads, as if they had been slaughtered by a demonic dragon.

The dragon's flames raged all the way from midnight until the sky began to lighten.

As the first rays of dawn pierced the clouds, the shallow bay and camp on Alos Island had become a living hell. The blockade fleet was almost completely destroyed, and layers of shipwrecks and charred corpses floated on the sea. The camp on the beach was reduced to charred ruins, with blackened fire marks, unextinguished embers, half-melted weapons, and charred bones everywhere. The sea breeze carried the acrid smell of burning.

In the morning light, the Night Fury glided through the air, its wings flapping. It had been battling from midnight until dawn, and it was exhausted.

Reed patted the Night Fury's scales, comforting his weary companion: "Let's go home and eat meat."

……

A day later, before the morning mist had even dissipated, Valerian's ocean-going fleet, lined up in neat rows, sailed along the coast of Alois toward Meereen.

The sea breeze carried a faint, burnt, fishy smell ashore, mingling with the salty, astringent seawater. The moment that smell entered their nostrils, the crew members on deck turned to look.

Wilmond Valerian stood on the stern of his flagship, the "Sea Urchin," his Mill Eyes sweeping across the island of Alois to his left.

He was tall and straight, with the decisiveness of the sea serpent Corliss in his eyes, but with a touch more melancholy than his uncle, and his brows were slightly furrowed at the moment.

The Giscali coalition's warships were either capsized on the sea or burned to a crisp, charred skeleton. Broken masts stood like withered bones in the murky water, while floating corpses and splinters of wood bobbed up and down with the waves...

"By the Seven Gods..." A low gasp came from behind. Cobra Valerian, the second-in-command, approached, gripping the ship's railing. He was slightly younger than Weimond, with a more lively expression, but even he was stunned by the sight before him, his pupils shrinking slightly. "This is hell. The Black Dragon King, alone with his dragon, overturned the entire blockade fleet?"

Before he finished speaking, the crew on deck were already whispering among themselves. Some pointed to the wreckage of the scorpion crossbows scattered in the shallows, the iron bodies twisted and deformed from the heat. Others stared at the charred ruins of the camp on the beach, their breaths trembling: "I heard the Giskali bought hundreds of scorpion crossbows at great expense, all high-quality products from the Braavos Titan Giant Armory, causing the price of giant crossbows on the market to more than double. And this is it?"

"The fire burned all the way to the beach, leaving them no chance to fight back!"

Amid the murmurs, Wei Mengde remained silent, gazing only at Alois Island: "Logically speaking, we have already witnessed the power of dragons in the Battle of the Narrow Sea, but seeing such a scene again still amazes us."

Cobley nodded, watching a charred piece of driftwood repeatedly pound against the deck, his tone becoming more serious: "Uncle had his reasons for telling us to rely on Reid. I just didn't expect him to go to this extent."

"That's what the dragon kings of Valyria are like. They spend half a day riding dragons and flying, half a day burning everything with dragonfire, and then two days waiting for us sea nobles to catch up with the dragons' wings, to send them troops, supplies, and bring back prisoners and treasures."

"We should be thankful that we are allies of the Black Dragon King, not his enemies..."

"Pay attention, don't let Kobry down!" Wimund reminded his brother, who seemed a bit off-topic. "The Valerian family also has dragon riders, three of them. Our aunt, cousin, and cousin are all dragon riders. Besides, even the most powerful dragon king needs cattle and sheep to feed his insatiable belly, gold to reward victories, and an army to help him actually conquer conquered lands." Wimund stamped his foot on the deck as he spoke: "And the cargo this fleet carries is enough to earn us respect."

"Sir, we have reached the navigation point," the navigator announced, referring to the landmarks on the nautical chart and the distant islands.

Wei Mengde immediately ended his reflections and began issuing orders: "Signal: 'Follow the flagship's turn.' Once the rear responds, turn one-third of the way to the right."

"Yes, Captain!"

The crew gradually recovered from their shock and resumed their duties, operating the ship as it sailed. With just a slight turn, the towering sails of the ocean-going sailboat swayed and creaked with the change in the wind, and the rigging operators bustled back and forth, readjusting and securing the rigging.

Soon, the sails were billowing in the sea breeze again, and Valerian's green flag with a silver seahorse fluttered in the morning air.

The flagship "Sea Urchin" was the first to sail through the waterway of Alois Island, followed closely by the Valerian fleet. The seahorse flags stretched out in the morning light toward Meereen, while the scorched earth and shipwrecks of Alois Island served as the most awe-inspiring warning along this waterway.

"Three miles to starboard from the bow—there's a dragon! A black dragon!"

Wimund and Cobbery looked up simultaneously and saw that iconic black figure gliding low in the air, its massive wings flapping gently, creating ripples on the sea. Reid stood on the dragon saddle, his black cloak fluttering in the sea breeze, nodding towards the "Sea Urchin" in the distance.

They stood facing Weymond and Cobley from the forecourt. One man, one dragon, and one fleet became the most formidable force on the seas of Slave Bay.

As the fleet approached the waters near Meereen, the morning tide lapped against the reefs, and the distant walls of Meereen gleamed with a cold, grayish-brown light in the sunlight. At the entrance to the channel, more than twenty warships flying the banners of harpies remained anchored—the remnants of the Giskari blockade fleet, guarding the last line of defense. Their bow ballistae stubbornly pointed at the sea, yet they showed no sign of launching an attack, their posture as awkward as frightened birds, timid and helpless with nowhere to hide.

Standing on the bow of the "Sea Urchin," Wei Mengde glanced at the remnants of the army and said with a relaxed expression, "Signaling, battle alarms, and the fleet forming a wedge formation. We can't trouble His Excellency the Black Dragon King with everything. Let him see the splendor of our Valerian forces that dominate the seas."

The rapid beat of waist drums filled the cabins as sailors sprinted towards the crossbows and catapults on the ship's sides. The formation began to shift, with dozens of warships and ocean-going merchant ships lined up end to end, their oars striking in unison, creating neat white waves as they steadily approached the reefs.

The Giscali Allied warships immediately erupted into commotion. Soldiers rushed about shouting, and ballistae turned the winches but hesitated to fire. These survivors from Alos Island had already experienced the dragon's power, and their eyes revealed a fear of battle.

Before the two ships even made contact, a resounding dragon roar echoed through the sky. The Night Fury swept across the Urchin, its massive black wings blocking out the sunlight, hovering above the warships.

The Night Fury neither spewed its dragon flames nor swooped down; it merely hovered there with its wings flapping, yet the Giskali soldiers were already drained of all color from their faces.

Some people collapsed onto the deck, their legs gave way, others trembled as they gripped their crossbows, and some young sailors even leaped into the sea. Now, facing this demonic dragon, their very thoughts of resistance were crushed by fear.

"Fire! Fire now!" the captain roared, but no one dared to move. The crossbows were pointed at the sky, but no one dared to adjust the direction.

Night Fury seemed impatient with the stalemate, letting out a low growl. Its wingtips fluttered, creating a gust of wind that swept across the warship's deck, making the sails crackle and snap.

"Surrender, or Dragonfire!" Reed shouted, holding up the tin can.

As the words fell, Nightshade slowly opened his jaws, and a faint blue flame flickered between his teeth—a warning, a harbinger of dragonfire.

The captain, his face ashen, slumped to the bow of the ship, waving his hands and screaming, "Surrender! We surrender!"

The sails of more than twenty warships were lowered, and all kinds of white flags rose on the sails. The soldiers dropped their weapons and did not even dare to raise their heads.

Valerian's fleet slowly passed by, and the crew looked at the shivering Giss on the deck with an unconscious sense of pride in their eyes.

Night Fury withdrew its dragonfire, flapped its wings, and flew back above the flagship, letting out a low growl as if to announce its victory. Reid, leaning on the dragon saddle, exchanged a glance with Wei Mengde in the forecourt; without a word, they understood each other perfectly.

Wei Mengde sheathed his sword and raised his hand to give the order: "Prepare to board the ship and capture them! Help the Black Dragon King escort his spoils back!"