The legacy: the way of old Valyria 2

As I entered hibernation, my consciousness drifted, and suddenly I found myself standing in the sky, looking down upon a vast, frozen landscape. Snow stretched as far as the eye could see, an endless sea of white broken only by the towering presence of a massive wall of ice. It was the largest wall I had ever seen. For a moment, I simply marveled at it, its sheer size.

But then, without warning, the wall began to crumble. Great chunks of ice broke away, crashing to the ground with thunderous roars. The destruction was swift and unstoppable, as if the wall had been waiting for this moment to fall. From the ruins emerged an army an endless tide of undead creatures with pale, white skin, hair like frost, and eyes that burned with an icy blue light. They moved with a single, relentless purpose, marching forward to destroy everything in their path. Villages, keeps, and forests fell before them, consumed by their cold, unyielding advance.

And then, I saw him.

A lone figure stood before the army, a man with long silver-blonde hair that shimmered like moonlight. His face was obscured, hidden beneath a hood or perhaps some trick of the light, but his hair so like my own, so like the hair of my kin was unmistakable. In his hands, he wielded a flaming sword, its fire blazing against the cold, a beacon of defiance in the face of the undead horde.

Behind him, dragons filled the sky, their scales glinting in the pale light. They roared as one, and flames erupted from their mouths, engulfing the undead army. The creatures shrieked and burned, their icy forms no match for the searing heat. The man with the flaming sword moved like a storm, cutting through the undead with ruthless efficiency. His blade left trails of fire in its wake, and wherever he struck, the creatures were reduced to ash.

The battle was fierce but one-sided. The dragons rained fire from above, while the man on the ground carved a path of destruction through the heart of the undead army. Finally, he raised his sword high, and the sky itself seemed to ignite. A wave of fire swept across the land, consuming everything in its path. When the flames subsided, the snow was gone, replaced by a barren wasteland of ash. The undead were no more, their icy forms melted and their blue eyes extinguished.

For a moment, there was silence. The man stood amidst the ashes, his sword still burning, his silver-blonde hair catching the light of the flames. I felt a strange connection to him, a kinship. He was a warrior, a leader, a destroyer of armies and in him, I saw a reflection of what I could become.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the vision ended.

[Hibernation has ended]

As his eyes fluttered open, the remnants of the dream still lingered in his mind a silver-haired warrior, an endless tide of undead, and a blazing sword cutting through the cold. The vision had felt too real to be mere imagination. Before he could dwell on it further, a sudden notification flashed before him.

[Quest Added]

[Stop the Others]

Objective: Defeat the "Others."

Reward: Multiversal Travel

His thoughts raced. The Others were real. And now, it was his responsibility to stop them? The reward was tempting, but the implications ran deeper. Was this a warning? A test? Or fate guiding him toward something greater?

Shaking off his thoughts, he finally took in his surroundings. His body felt... whole. The scars, the aches, the lingering remnants of his time as a slave all gone. Strength coursed through his veins, power humming beneath his skin. He stood, stretching, testing the newfound vitality of his restored form.

Yet, as he moved through the manor, something felt... off. The corpses. They were gone. The blood, the signs of slaughter vanished. The grand halls, once soaked in carnage, were pristine, as if the massacre had never happened. Someone or something had cleaned up after him.

[Does the user wish to receive information on what has transpired since hibernation?]

Without hesitation, he accepted.

A flood of knowledge surged into his mind centuries of history condensed into mere moments. Four hundred years had passed since he vanished, and in that time, the world had changed beyond recognition. Empires had risen and crumbled, borders had shifted, and those who had once trembled before the might of the Freehold were now long gone.

But what angered him most was who had taken their place.

Savages.

Barbarians on horseback now roamed the lands once ruled by true civilization. Dothraki. He nearly scoffed at the name. Primitive, crude, unworthy of the lands they had claimed. The Dothraki Sea even the name was an insult to his ears. The very idea that these nomadic raiders had replaced the greatest empire in history was an affront he would not tolerate.

His fury cooled only when he turned his thoughts to his family the Targaryens. Of course, they had seized control of a continent after realizing they were the last Dragonlords left. That was exactly what he would have done. But where they had claimed one kingdom, he would reclaim the world.

Yet, something felt... off. He could not simply walk in the shadow of his ancestors. His name his identity was a relic of a forgotten age. If he was to forge his own path, he needed something new.

A new house. A new name.

Dozens of possibilities flashed through his mind before one took hold, solidifying in his thoughts.

Aurion Vorysion.

-later-

As I stepped beyond the walls of my domain, I was met with a sight both unexpected and grotesque beast and fire worms infested the Freehold, their numbers far greater than I had anticipated. Disgust twisted my features. These creatures, scavengers of a lost empire, had made my land their own.

That would not stand.

For hours, I hunted them down, relentless and merciless. Every last one fell before me, their bodies broken, their flesh charred by my magic. When the last creature lay dead, I raised my hand and invoked a single spell. Power surged through me, necromantic energy spilling into the corpses around me.

And then, one by one, they rose.

Twisted, undead versions of their former selves, bound to my will. My first army was born.

But I did not stop there.

I scoured every corner of the Freehold, cleansing it of any remaining filth, raising the fallen as I went. Until finally, I came across something... different.

The bones of warriors humanoid skeletons still clad in their ancient armor. But more than that, the remains of a dragon, larger than any I had ever seen, its skeletal form radiating a dormant power. This was no ordinary dragon. And the warrior upon its back...

I cast the spell once more, and as the energy seeped into the remains, they began to move. Armor creaked, bones shifted, and with a thunderous roar, the dragon stirred. Atop it, the warrior rose, his undead form still adorned in Valyrian steel.

A notification flashed before my eyes.

[Aurion Varezys – Rank: Knight]

[Feat Achieved: Subjugate the "Emperor" of Valyria – 1 Roll Granted]

I stared at the notification. The pretender bore my name? How amusing. It mattered little he was mine now, another piece in the grand army I was building.

As I observed my undead forces, something else caught my attention. There was a hierarchy to my summons.

[Summon Ranks: Soldier → Knight → Commander → General → Great General → Marshal → Grand General Marshal]

Interesting I thought, and then I put my attention on the role that I gain.

[Rolling...]

[Divine Blood of the Dragon – Mythical prrk]

The blood of the greatest dragons now flows through your veins. Your connection to dragons has evolved beyond mere kinship you are their true lord. Your body, mind, and soul are infused with draconic power, enhancing your physical attributes, magic, and command over dragons. Lesser dragons will instinctively bow to you, and greater dragons will acknowledge you as their equal... or their ruler.

I smiled to myself as I feel my new power coursing through me. This was very good I'm excited for what other stuff i can get by using rolls but I decided to focus on that later.

XxX

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