Chapter 212: Dragon’s Might

"You're not even sure if they're real?" Dany was taken aback and grabbed the Moon Singer's sleeve. "Haven't you seen dragon eggs before?"

The Moon Singer elder seemed unwilling to continue the conversation with her, pulled her sleeve free, and walked straight ahead without a word.

"Alright, I apologize for my ignorance. When we get back to the Merchant's House, I'll treat you to a grand feast," Dany pleaded.

The Moon Singer snorted before reluctantly explaining, "The Dragon Hatching Mage Order was established two months ago, but it seems that today is the first time Maraccio—or rather, the Valantene—have obtained a dragon egg."

Within moments, six young attendants took the stage. Based on status, Dany was nowhere near the center; she stood at the very edge.

She watched as two attendants placed a small, round-legged table, about two feet wide, at the center of the stage. Then, a gray-haired, long-faced middle-aged man stepped forward carrying a black lacquered wooden chest about the size of a medical kit. Without a word, he placed the box on the table and pulled a key from his collar.

As if intentionally making sure everyone saw, he held the key high and shook it slightly before finally inserting it into the red-bronze keyhole of the wooden chest.

Lifting the lid, the long-faced gray-haired man glanced inside, then nodded to Maraccio and Naesys. "Please inspect it."

"A Braavosi!" Dany whispered in surprise.

The man's accent was identical to hers—or rather, identical to the priestess 'Leila.'

Just as how Chinese dialects—like Northeastern, Sichuanese, Wuhan, or Wuxi accents—could give away one's origin to a well-traveled ear, the Nine Free Cities, including Slaver's Bay and New Ghis, all spoke Valyrian, but each region had its own distinct accent, making them easy to distinguish.

"Color, texture, scales, weight." The Shadowbinder stroked the egg inside the chest for a moment, then nodded to the two ruling officials. "It's a dragon egg."

The ruling officials, being of Valyrian noble descent, naturally possessed some knowledge of identifying dragon eggs. After the three senior figures examined it, one of the ruling officials personally inspected it again, followed by a dozen or so old Valantene nobles.

It took nearly half an hour for the crowd of dozens to finish their scrutiny before it was finally the turn of the six junior mages.

It was a dragon egg, blood-red like a setting sun.

"A bit small," Dany remarked at first glance.

"Small?" A fire mage hesitated, setting the egg down. "It's exactly like the dragon eggs described in records. It should be real."

Before the other three fire mages could step forward, Dany seized the opportunity and took the dragon egg into her hands. The moment she touched it, her expression changed drastically.

"My gods, it's real!"

"Of course it's real," the Braavosi man said irritably.

Dany lifted her head, staring intently at the Braavosi. "This isn't a stone egg. It's not a fossilized dragon egg from Asshai."

"You could tell just from that?! Impressive." The long-faced man looked shocked.

"I've seen stone eggs in Qarth."

"Ah, that makes sense." The man nodded in understanding, then turned to the two ruling officials. "This one comes from Westeros, a Targaryen dragon egg. It's only 250 years old. Compared to fossilized eggs, it has a much greater chance of hatching."

"Excellent." Maraccio nodded impassively.

"The contract is settled?" the long-faced man asked.

"As long as the dragon hatches, we will give you all our secret arts," Naesys said.

The long-faced man glanced around, hesitating. "Only the two of you as witnesses?"

"Dofas will be eliminated, so there's no need for him to be here. I represent the Elephant Party, and Maraccio represents the Tiger Party. There are hundreds of noble witnesses around us—more than enough," Naesys said.

"Braavos and Volantis have formed an alliance?" Dany asked the Moon Singer quietly.

"I don't know."

"Ah, what a—" Dany looked up at the dome, just in time to see a massive black shadow plummeting from above. What a pity!

"Boom!"

Colorful shards scattered, and a brilliant pillar of fire descended like divine retribution, as if a missile had struck the dome.

"Crash!"

The luxurious glass palace shattered like a toy swatted by a Titan's hand. Multicolored fragments rained down like a torrential storm.

Before the crowd below could react, an ear-piercing screech resounded through the air.

"Scree—gah!"

The infernal roar made those who managed to respond go pale with horror.

"A dragon—"

Ruling official Naesys shrieked like a frightened woman.

Maraccio, who had maintained an expression as lifeless as a granite relief, now had his face twisted in sheer disbelief as he stared at the black dragon descending from the sky.

Four hundred years later, a true dragon had once again appeared atop the Tower of the Sky. In the days of Valyria, it would have been the highest honor for a tower lord to host a dragonlord, but now—

"No—"

"Boom!"

A blast of brilliant red dragonfire, thick with black smoke, descended directly onto the head of Volantis's army commander.

Like a stationery box filled with ice cream being thrown into a charcoal furnace, a strange, meaty aroma filled the air as a brownish liquid seeped out from the seams of his iron boots.

"Aaah! A demon dragon!"

"Ahhh!"

"The Mother of Dragons is attacking!"

The Volantene nobles screamed in terror, fleeing in all directions—some running straight into the flames, others throwing themselves into the darkness beyond the platform, only to plummet and be crushed into pulp.

With the glass dome shattered, hurricane winds howled at the tower's peak. Dragonfire raged across the platform like the scythe of death, cutting through the panicked, screaming crowd and reaping their lives in waves.

"Scree, gah!"

A second dragon, white as snow, crashed into the inferno. As if competing with its elder brother, it unleashed its own blazing fury without restraint, turning the battlefield into an even greater nightmare.

Valantis had long been prepared for an eastward expedition. It was merely waiting for the election to conclude before openly declaring war on Slaver's Bay and the Dragon Queen. However, this complacent city was utterly unprepared to endure the baptism of fire.

Two dragons, like demons crawling out of the abyss, ravaged the platform, mercilessly hunting down the city's most distinguished figures. There was neither compassion nor forgiveness. The faces of those as beautiful as divine sons and daughters melted in the dragonfire, while the dreamlike banquet hall, reminiscent of paradise, wailed in the inferno.

An 800-square-meter open-air platform was spacious enough for a grand feast, but against two massive dragons spewing flames as they sprinted back and forth—it was woefully inadequate. Even the shortest blast of dragonfire stretched fourteen to fifteen meters!

In just five minutes, after sweeping through the hall seven or eight times, not a single groan or whisper of life remained—everyone was dead.

The black dragon, seemingly intelligent, remained stationed at the stairway entrance after incinerating Maracho.

"Screeech—"

"Screeech—"

The roars of the dragons gradually faded into the distant sky, leaving behind a blazing inferno, crackling and devouring everything in its wake.

Three more minutes passed.

"Plop!"

At the center of the hall, where the fountain once stood, a pile of burning corpses was suddenly pushed aside. A sharp-headed figure emerged, shaking out wet, matted hair—Moon Singer.

His chest heaved violently, like a bellows being pumped at full force, as he gasped for air.

"Cough, cough, cough—" The thick smoke and stench of charred flesh triggered a violent fit of coughing.

"Cough... They've gone. The demon dragons... cough... they've flown away... cough, cough, cough."

"Plop, plop."

The corpses seemed to come alive, rolling over and tumbling aside. More than a dozen charred figures sat up from the pool.

"Ow, my hand is burned!" Bu Cheng clutched his right elbow, wailing.

"You should be grateful to be alive. Cough, cough."

Dany shook her head, glancing around before coughing again. "The bodies are burning like candles. We can't stay here for long."

Shadowbinder Stam struggled to his feet, sighing in relief. "Leila, it was all thanks to your quick thinking. You pulled us straight into the pool, unlike the others who foolishly tried to rush the stairway."

"Help me! Ow—my leg got trampled and broken!"

Dany stepped closer and was startled. "Governor Narciso? You survived?"

There was no deception—she had never intended to save any Valantis nobles. She had only grabbed Stam and Bu Cheng, zigzagging straight for the pool in a serpentine dash.

Oh, and she hadn't pulled Moon Singer along either—because the moment chaos erupted, that guy had already latched onto her robe like a lifeline.

"Help... cough, cough. I... I can't breathe. Get me out of here!" The governor could only whimper in pain.

Dany didn't assist him. Instead, she yanked Moon Singer, who was trying to flee toward the stairway, and shoved him forward. Instantly, the governor clung to the scrawny zebra-skinned man like an octopus.

Shadowbinder walked over, supporting the other side of the governor's body, and asked curiously, "Your Excellency, why didn't the Dragon Queen burn you?"

Dany, still wearing her longsword, unsheathed it along with its scabbard, using it to push aside the burning corpses in her path as she made her way toward the stairwell.

Besides them, eight others had survived.

After all, the pool was 20 square meters and half a meter deep—anyone who wasn't trampled unconscious or drowned had managed to cling to life.

More importantly, the dragons had adjusted their angle; most of the flames had skimmed over the water's surface rather than roasting it directly.

"I'm not a fool. Watching Maracho melt beside me—should I have just stood there, waiting to be burned alive?" Narciso groaned.

Moon Singer eyed him curiously. "How did you think to run for the pool?"

Narciso grinned smugly despite his pain. "That's intelligence for you." His expression turned proud. **"That black dragon clearly had a rider—the venomous woman herself. She has a heart as cruel as a scorpion, but she isn't stupid.

If I were controlling a dragon and planning an ambush on the Sky Tower, my first move would also be to block the staircase.

Sure enough, that demon did exactly what I expected—she was determined to wipe us all out!"**

Damn it, you thought of that too? Who's the real demon here?

An elderly Valantis noble stared blankly at the pitch-black night sky before looking around at the sea of burning corpses, thick smoke, and blood-colored flames. Suddenly, his pupils contracted, and he snapped out of his daze, wailing, "Tragic... tragic... too tragic! Wuuu—"

"This is war." Dany sighed, her expression complicated.

"Priest Corbett is dead. Dark, Lincoln, and Mace—the three fire mages—are dead too." The fire sorcerer's voice trembled with grief.

"And yet you're still alive?"

Dany glanced at him in surprise. The Westerosi man's face and robes were pitch-black, and the hem of his mage's robe was scorched with a large, still-smoldering hole.

"Dead. All dead. Wuuu—!"

The fire sorcerer looked around blankly before suddenly bursting into uncontrollable sobs.

His crying was like a fuse igniting fireworks—one after another, wails and lamentations echoed through the charred, flesh-scented ruins of the banquet hall.

"Enough wailing! Move the corpses—the stairway is blocked!" Dany shouted.

"Is anyone else alive?" Her words stirred the survivors below. Across the burning mound of bodies, voices began calling out, pulling at scorched remains.

"It's Steward Fox!" Shadowbinder exclaimed. "There are people up there—Steward Fox, hurry and clear the corpses!"

"Ah!"

The sniffling fire sorcerer suddenly shrieked like a violated maiden, his voice piercing and shrill. He pointed northeast, trembling. "Look! The Dragon Queen hasn't left—she's going to burn the Black Wall!"

(End of Chapter)

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