Chapter 139: Uncle, You Have to Leave Something Behind!

"Rhaenyra, you truly are generous."

Laenor's mind was in turmoil, reconsidering the fate of the two children. 

If possible, he hoped to see House Targaryen and House Velaryon reunited once more. 

After all, his mother, his husband, and his children all bore the Targaryen name. 

Rhaenyra smiled and said, "Think it over carefully. There are still a few days before we return to King's Landing." 

She knew Laenor well—sensitive and intelligent as always. 

She trusted he would make the right choice, avoiding potential future conflicts between their houses. 

The conversation between the two women skillfully shifted the topic. 

The banquet had lost its earlier lively atmosphere; everyone present was in low spirits. 

Aegon glanced around while cutting into his roasted meat, eyes wide with curiosity. 

Lannor forced a laugh, stood up, and raised his cup, hoping to ease the tension. 

Unfortunately, no one paid him any attention. 

Most were lost in their own thoughts, calculating personal gains and losses. 

As time passed, the feast neared its end. 

Daemon sat holding his two daughters, lost in thought. 

It wasn't until a baby's cry rang out that he suddenly snapped back to reality. 

"Laenor, I think the child is hungry." 

Frowning, Daemon handed the swaddled infant to his wife. 

Laenor expertly took the baby and passed it to the wet nurse behind her. 

She was wearing a fitted gown, making nursing impossible. 

Like Daemon, Rhaegar had remained silent throughout the evening. 

He leaned back in his chair, fingers crossed beneath his chin, occasionally glancing toward a particular spot. 

Noticing his odd behavior, irritation rose within Daemon, and he strode toward him. 

Circling the table, Daemon reached Rhaegar's side, placing a hand on the tabletop. 

"How is my brother?" he asked. 

Viserys had suffered countless cuts from the Iron Throne over the years, and Daemon wanted to know his condition. 

"As long as no one provokes him, Father is doing well," Rhaegar replied, narrowing his eyes slightly. 

"And Alicent? That woman is no pushover. My brother hasn't gotten rid of her yet?" 

Daemon's eyes flickered as he brought up his old adversary. 

"She's doing well too. She recently bore Father another son and continues to tend to his needs." 

"The Hightowers are nothing but trouble—those women only ever make life difficult for men." 

Daemon sneered, amusement in his voice. "She's been a headache for you too, hasn't she?" 

This time, Rhaegar didn't respond. 

"What's this? Did I hit the mark?" 

Daemon leaned in, trying to get a better look at his nephew's expression. 

"Uncle, do you remember what I said to you when you first arrived?" 

Rhaegar asked abruptly, his head lowered, disheveled hair falling over his ears. 

Daemon hesitated slightly, unsure of his meaning. 

Then, as if realizing something, his gaze followed Rhaegar's. 

A cold stone wall. A gilded clock hanging upon it. 

Tick-tock… 

The second hand moved continuously, soon completing its cycle. 

The moment it struck midnight, both the minute and hour hands shifted—aligning at twelve. 

Ding… 

The midnight bell tolled. A new day had begun. 

"A new day has started, Uncle!" 

The moment the bell rang, Rhaegar sprang into action. 

He seized Daemon's head and slammed it onto the table. 

Crack! 

A sickening sound echoed—it seemed his nose had been broken from the impact. 

"My dear uncle, you suffered once seven years ago, and yet you never learn!" 

Rhaegar's lips curled into a manic grin, pupils shrinking. 

He grabbed a nearby dinner knife and drove it straight through Daemon's left hand, pinning it to the table. 

Rhaenys had assured him nothing would happen last night, and he had abided by that. 

But he had been waiting. Holding back. Anticipating the arrival of midnight. 

Squelch— 

Blood splattered. The silver knife punctured Daemon's hand, embedding itself into the wood beneath. 

"Ahhh!!" 

Daemon let out a pained scream, his entire body trembling from the agony. 

---

**Outside the castle.** 

A sharp screech pierced the night as Caraxes emerged from the darkness, sensing his rider's distress. 

Without hesitation, he dove toward the castle. 

But another roar rang out—more menacing. 

Vhagar moved first. With a mighty beat of his wings, he surged forward, his massive, coal-black body colliding with Caraxes mid-air. 

He had been waiting for this moment. 

That slender red wyrm would finally be torn apart tonight. 

---

**Attacked!** 

Koraxiu let out a series of frantic cries, clawing furiously while opening its draconic maw to unleash a torrent of crimson dragonfire at its opponent. 

"Hiss… Gah…" 

The Devourer tilted its head to evade the incoming flames and then sank its teeth into one of Koraxiu's wings, violently thrashing its head to tear through flesh and bone. 

Thanks to Rhaegar's tactical training, it had become an expert in dragon combat. 

Crippling the wings first—this turned the opponent into nothing more than prey on a butcher's slab. 

As blood and flesh were ripped apart, Koraxiu thrashed wildly, using its long, flexible neck to lunge forward and bite down on the Devourer's throat. 

*Rip!* 

Its sharp fangs punctured the thick scales, and dragon blood splattered as the Devourer let out an enraged roar. 

In retaliation, the beast tore out a chunk of flesh with a brutal jerk, shaking its massive head before slamming it viciously against Koraxiu's skull. 

*Boom!* 

Koraxiu saw stars as its head was struck, though its fangs managed to rip away some flesh from the Devourer. 

A mere flesh wound—nothing significant—but it only further provoked the Devourer's bloodthirsty rage. 

Its maw aimed at Koraxiu's head, and with a furious exhalation, a pillar of green dragonfire erupted forth. 

"Hiss… Gah…" 

The scorching flames engulfed Koraxiu, forcing a desperate scream from its throat. In a frantic struggle for survival, its claws slashed wildly at the Devourer's underbelly, hoping to land a fatal strike. 

---

**Inside the Castle.** 

Daemon's agonized scream echoed through the great hall, chilling all who heard it. 

"Rhaegar!" 

Rhaenyra's eyes widened in shock—she hadn't expected Rhaegar to strike so suddenly. 

"Uncle, I told you—you have to leave something behind!" 

Rhaegar's grin grew wilder as he swiftly drew *Dark Sister* and swung it down toward Daemon's impaled hand. 

"Get away from me!" 

In the critical moment, Daemon reacted instantly, kicking backward and landing a powerful blow to Rhaegar's abdomen. 

The impact sent Rhaegar staggering, forcing him to take several quick steps back. However, in the process, his sword's blade still managed to slash across Daemon's shoulder. 

"Ah! Damn it!" 

The searing pain kept Daemon's mind razor-sharp. Without hesitation, he yanked the dinner knife from his left hand and flung it toward Rhaegar's chest. 

*Clang!* 

Rhaegar's reflexes were quick—he raised the flat of his sword just in time to deflect the incoming blade. 

"Die!" 

Seeing his opening, Daemon snatched a plate from the table and hurled it at Rhaegar, attempting to disrupt his movements. 

Then, wasting no time, he grabbed a heavy wooden chair and brought it crashing down toward Rhaegar's head. 

"You're the one who's going to die!" 

Instinctively, Rhaegar raised his sword to block, but Daemon's kick struck him squarely in the chest. 

*Crash!* 

The weight of *Dark Sister* couldn't withstand the sheer force of the impact. The wooden chair shattered into splinters upon impact with Rhaegar's skull, and blood immediately trickled down from the wound. 

Almost simultaneously— 

Daemon, struck in the chest, spat out a mouthful of blood as he was sent flying backward. 

"Rhaegar!" 

"Daemon!" 

The fight had escalated so quickly that by the time the two combatants collapsed onto the ground, it was already too late to stop them. 

Rhaenyra, standing close to Rhaegar, was also struck by flying debris from the broken chair. Cuts marred her face and neck, but there was no time to dwell on them—she rushed to support the wavering Rhaegar. 

On the other side of the hall, Laena bolted from her seat, running straight to her husband's side. 

Well-read and trained in basic medicine, she immediately assessed the severity of his injuries. 

These two weren't just fighting—they were going straight for the kill. 

**Not enjoying what you're seeing?** 

**Then fight! Fight harder! Even the dragons are battling now!** 

**(End of Chapter.)**