Chapter 18: Daenys’s Dream

The plant sap, dark and thick like blood, trickled down Gaemon's throat. Aegon stared intently at the body, hoping—desperately—for even the faintest twitch, but Gaemon lay utterly still.

Aegon closed his eyes and let out a deep, weary sigh.

He didn't try the remaining nine blood orchids.

He had done all he could. Not even the game-like items had worked—there was nothing left to save him.

Daenys noticed Aegon had stopped his efforts. In that instant, she understood the cruel truth: it was over. She could only cradle Gaemon's body and sob quietly.

Aegon couldn't bear to look at Daenys in such grief. He turned away and walked to the edge of the platform, leaning forward to check on the Dragon below. The beast was nearly sixty meters long, its massive body easily weighing dozens of tons. Having fallen from over fifty meters, it was severely wounded.

Skarak's left wing drooped lifelessly, bent at an unnatural, twisted angle. The pale bones of the wing's structure were exposed—clearly, it had lost the ability to fly. For now, it posed no threat.

It lay curled in the cliff's shadow, wailing in pain. Aegon suspected its internal organs had likely been torn apart in the fall.

"This is your punishment too. Gaemon, in the end, I've avenged you."

Aegon sat down on the platform, his gaze drifting toward the desolate hills far below the cliff. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought. He had lost a close companion, someone inseparable from his side—and the loneliness was sinking in fast.

Though he had two wives, their bonds were still shallow. They had only been married for half a month, and real affection had yet to develop between them.

Aegon sat, immersed in his thoughts, until a sudden crackling sound of firewood behind him caught his attention.

He turned slowly.

Daenys was carrying wood from the Dragonpit and stacking it on Gaemon's body. She was preparing a cremation.

Cremation was a Valyrian tradition. In the Houses of True Dragons, corpses were usually burned by a dragon's breath. But with no dragon available, this was the only way Daenys could give Gaemon a proper farewell.

She stood quietly in front of the pyre, arms wrapped around herself, her body trembling faintly.

Seeing this, Aegon rose silently, walked slowly over, and gently embraced her. One hand rested softly on her back, trying to offer what little comfort he could.

Daenys pressed her face to Aegon's chest, her eyes fixed on the burning wood. She murmured, "My brother and I grew up together. Since childhood, Father told me that one day I would become his wife. I believed him—I truly thought it was my destiny. But now…"

Aegon gently combed her long silver hair, his voice low and gentle. "I can't imagine the pain you're feeling. But I know Gaemon wouldn't want you to be trapped in your sorrow. He'd want you to be strong—to live on with his love in your heart, to face the future bravely, and find new joys along the way.

You must stay strong. You're not alone. I'll be here with you."

Daenys remained silent for a long time. The flames slowly burned out, leaving only a mound of ashes. Then she lifted her head from Aegon's chest, a flicker of resolve in her eyes. "You're right. I have to keep going. Father is still waiting for me, and House Targaryen still needs me."

...

Though it was still early, the two finished mourning with heavy hearts and resumed their journey.

Their next destination was the Green Shadow Gorge beside Rock Valley, where a Dragonpit held a dragon Daenys hoped to tame.

According to the map, the dragon's name was Dreamshade. Its body was uniquely covered in scales like glass, their hues shifting with the surrounding environment. Though far from truly invisible, it was nearly undetectable when flying through the skies.

...

Night fell again without them realizing it.

They found a recessed alcove in a cliff wall and worked together to seal it off with branches, building a simple shelter where they could rest.

The climate in the Rockstone Valley was unbearably hot. In the cramped space, the only way they could lie down was to press closely against each other.

By now, they were deep within the heart of the Fourteen Flames, where dragon riders were few and far between. Daenys set up several trigger-based traps around them to serve as alarms through the night.

Perhaps due to the emotional toll of the day, Daenys gradually fell into a deep sleep in Aegon's warm embrace.

Before Aegon himself could drift off, Daenys began to tremble as though caught in a nightmare. Her lips quivered, whispering, "Brother... brother..." Her arms moved uneasily, her pale limbs flailing and clawing at Aegon's back, keeping him from closing his eyes.

Gaemon's death hit her harder than I imagined, Aegon thought, filled with pity.

All he could do was hold her tighter, wrapping her in a sense of safety, and softly stroking her back again and again, trying to soothe her from the nightmare and help her rest.

Time passed. Deep into the night, Aegon, half awake and half asleep, finally slipped into slumber.

Although he had already fallen into a deep sleep, a crisp game notification suddenly rang in his ears.

"Ding~"

[You have been pulled into the mental force of the 'Dreamwalker.' Mental check in progress... The opponent's mental strength is higher than yours. Check failed. You are now entering the opponent's deep dream.]

Aegon jolted awake—only to find himself standing alone outside a small cabin in the middle of a dark forest. The sky above was a vast, starless void, pitch-black and endless. Around him, the woods stretched deep and shadowy, heavy with a chilling, oppressive atmosphere.

Where is this? It feels like… our first supply point, Aegon thought in confusion.

Suddenly, a piercing scream rang out from within the forest.

"Ahhh!"

He turned toward the sound and saw Daenys under fierce assault by two dragon tamers. She was staggering, retreating step by step, barely holding on.

She spotted Aegon and, with all her strength, cried out, "Don't save me, brother! Run! Just run!"

Aegon sighed quietly. In that moment, he understood everything.

This was a dream, a nightmare forged from Daenys' own power. She must have blamed herself—believing that Gaemon was injured trying to save her, which led to the failure of the taming and ultimately his death.

Overwhelmed by guilt, she had unconsciously created this terrifying dream.

Without hesitation, Aegon drew the longsword at his waist and rushed forward, effortlessly cutting down the two dragon tamers.

Daenys looked at him with eyes full of despair, lips trembling as she whispered, "Brother... why did you save me? Why... I don't want to lose you."

Aegon tried to speak, but his throat felt constricted, as if something was choking him. Not a single word came out.

He stepped forward and reached for her hand—but she vanished like a bubble, dissolving at his fingertips.

The surrounding space began to collapse, the gloomy world around him shattering like glass.

Aegon thought he was waking up—returning to reality. But just then, the void rapidly reformed.

Now, he found himself inside a brilliantly lit, majestic Valyrian temple.

Looking down, he saw that he was dressed in an ornate robe embroidered with golden dragons. Daenys stood beside him in a stunning gown made of goose down. The low-cut design lifted her chest perfectly, revealing fair, delicate skin. The cinched waist and birdcage-style skirt added a sense of noble purity to her appearance.

That's a Valyrian forest gown... the traditional wedding attire of Valyrian brides, Aegon realized.

He tried to move—but panic rose in him as he discovered he had lost all control over his body. Only his eyes could still shift slightly. With effort, he glanced around. The guests at the ceremony were featureless, moving like puppets without will or spirit.

Under the command of some unknown force, Aegon placed a wedding ring on Daenys' finger.

In the sacred temple, the two kissed—completing the ceremony.

When it was over, Daenys took his hand with joy and led him into the bridal chamber.

"Brother, I'm finally your wife. We'll be together forever," she said sweetly. Then, she gently removed her birdcage-like skirt, followed by her lace outerwear, slowly revealing her alluring figure.

"Daenys, it's me... Aegon."

Aegon was frantic inside, but could only stand there like a statue.

He felt everything—this deep dream was terrifyingly vivid. Though he couldn't move, his senses were heightened, almost painfully sharp. Daenys' scent filled his nose, and her smooth skin seemed just inches away.

His body, beyond his control, moved to the bed and lay down. Naked, Daenys leaned in over him, her gaze hazy.

Her soft tongue glided across every inch of his skin.

"Does that feel good, brother?" she whispered, cheeks flushed. "My nanny taught me this... she said men like it."

Aegon shut his eyes tightly, repeating to himself: This is just a dream. It's not real. Even if she's moving like that, it's still not real.

If he had opened the game interface at that moment, he would have seen Daenys' talent entry:

[D-Rank – Septon of Restraint: +10 mental strength when suppressing one's desires. Upon breaking restraint, gains the opposite talent – Apostle of Lust.]

The talent [Septon of Restraint] faded and disappeared. In its place, a new one emerged in Daenys' talent bar.

...

In the real-world shelter...

Aegon and Daenys' bodies were tightly intertwined, their clothing shredded to tatters. It was as though only their most primal instincts remained, and their garments had long since been torn to ribbons.

Daenys' moans mingled with Aegon's heavy breathing, echoing like a symphony, rising and falling in waves.

...

...

Night blanketed the cliff in silence. Only the faint glow of embers from Gaemon's pyre flickered in the wind.

Below, Skarak whimpered and howled, the sounds haunting and sorrowful in the still night.

The dragon's immense vitality hadn't allowed it to die immediately—instead, it was enduring even greater pain.

Perhaps, with enough food, it might still recover. But with the Dragon Taming Tournament underway, all the Dragonkeepers had left. Its only hope now rested on the observers still patrolling the skies, praying they might spot this miserable creature.

On the platform at the Dragonpit entrance, a faint stir came from the pile of charcoal once used for the cremation.

A burned and scarred claw slowly rose from the ashes.

A low growl rumbled like a beast in the dark.

With the growl, the embers erupted, sparks scattering wildly—forming a miniature tornado of fire.

From within the chaos and flames, a figure steeped in dread slowly stood up, as if emerging from the depths of hell itself.

In the shadows, the beast roared, its hunger unrestrained:

"Meat... I want meat!"