Chapter 41: A Song of Ice and Fire

"Where are we going?"

Aegon walked over and sat next to Pan, seemingly by chance, but in truth, he was already considering using his chip to scan Pan's true form. However, the moment he sat down, Aegon realized he couldn't touch Pan at all—it was like sitting beside a phantom.

"Up," Pan said calmly.

Aegon immediately gave the order to Tiamat. With a powerful roar, she carried them higher into the sky. In no time, the air grew thin—so thin that if not for the warmth radiating from Tiamat's body, Aegon might have started to shiver from the cold.

"Is this high enough?" Aegon asked, turning his head.

Pan gave a slight nod and raised his hand, pointing downward.

Following the direction of his finger, Aegon looked down and saw the full outline of the Valyria Peninsula. It resembled a sleeping dragon, its winding body stretching out, with its tail connected to the continent of Essos.

"Where's the grand plan?" Aegon asked, tired of Pan's riddles.

"Right beneath us." Pan turned to Aegon and slowly traced a circle in the air with his index finger.

Aegon looked down toward the continental shelf, following Pan's motion. After some searching, he finally noticed something—a massive circular ring, several thousand square kilometers wide, encircling the entire Valyria Peninsula. Its precise shape could only be man-made. Some parts of the ring were still submerged beneath the sea, but if the entire structure were connected, it would resemble a giant totem covering the whole peninsula.

"This is a magic array? A magic array that spans part of the continental shelf?" Aegon muttered in shock.

"It's called the [True Dragon Origin Refining Array]. The Bloodmages spent thousands of years developing it. It can extract the Dragonblood from every True Dragon bloodline within its bounds. The price is a massive explosion," Pan said, expressionless.

"The price is also hundreds of millions of lives!" Aegon said, lips trembling.

"In the pursuit of immortality, such sacrifices are inevitable. You're fortunate, Aegon. You have the chance to become a Dragonlord, to join the heart of the grand plan, and to stand at the center of the altar atop the Fourteen Flames—without undergoing Dragonblood refinement." Pan's tone remained indifferent, as though the fate of countless lives meant nothing to him.

A chill spread through Aegon. "What if it fails?"

"The Targaryens are the final fire I released from the island. One day, they'll return to the Valyria Peninsula, inherit the legacy of Bloodsource Peak, and restore the glory of the Valyrians," Pan replied coldly.

Aegon let out a long breath, trying to calm the storm inside him. "How long until the grand plan begins?"

"If Tiamat—the dragon pillar—returns to her place, it will only take ten years to activate."

Pan gently patted Aegon on the shoulder. "One day, you'll understand the greatness of the Bloodmages. This is our mission. I hope, when that time comes, you'll shoulder your duty and not disappoint me.

Also, bring Tiamat to Bloodsource Peak as soon as possible. I can feel her life force fading. Only the demigod at the center of the earth can extend it."

"I understand, Elder," Aegon replied.

As soon as he spoke, Pan vanished into the air.

Aegon stared at the vast circular trench below for a long time, then sighed and signaled Tiamat to descend, heading toward the Dragonpit of House Targaryen.

After settling Tiamat, Aegon reunited with his family in the great hall of the main keep, where they had already returned.

"Where did you go?" Daenys asked, her tone full of concern.

Aegon gently wrapped an arm around her waist and replied calmly, "The Elder came to me. He explained the purpose of the grand plan."

"Stop right there, Aegon. Don't speak of secrets like that. If anyone overhears, none of us will leave the Valyria Peninsula alive," Aenar quickly interrupted. Even after Aegon nodded slightly, Aenar still patted his chest uneasily.

"You can't leave?" Aenar asked.

"Yes. I made a deal with the Elder. I have to stay," Aegon replied.

"And the Targaryens?" Aenar pressed.

"The Targaryens can leave safely. But the master blacksmiths of Valyrian steel must be sent back," Aegon answered.

Hearing that, Aenar let out a long breath of relief.

"If you're not going, then I'm not going," Daenys said, her eyes red.

Aegon smiled slightly. "We still have ten years. There's no hurry. If you're not in a rush to leave, you can stay with me a while longer."

Daenys hugged Aegon tightly.

"I'm not leaving either," Daenylis said as she followed and embraced Aegon as well.

"You haven't even asked me to stay—so I'm not going anywhere," Illya chimed in, stepping closer.

Aegon gently stroked Illya's long, gray-blue hair, thinking to himself how even this little one could be stubborn at times.

Aenar and his wife exchanged a look and quietly exited the hall, leaving the space to Aegon and his wives.

Looking at the women in his arms, Aegon smiled. "Since you're willing to stay with me a little longer, I'll be with you until you give birth. The grand plan for Bloodsource Peak can wait six months."

"Hmph." Daenys gave him a tender, affectionate look.

Aegon's hands began gently caressing his wives, and before long, soft, suggestive sounds echoed through the hall.

"Back to the bedroom, you rascal," Daenys murmured.

Both wives were pregnant, so Aegon wasn't about to trouble them—he was merely using his hands to help ease their discomfort.

Time passed slowly. Two weeks later...

In Targaryen Bay, the tide had risen again. All the ships of House Targaryen gathered at the shore, while slaves busily loaded cargo onto them.

Aegon arrived with his wives to see off his father, Aenar. With the approval of the Dragonlord Council, House Targaryen was allowed to migrate safely, and all the family's remaining wealth was loaded onto the fleet.

On the beach, Aenar embraced Aegon tightly as they exchanged parting words.

"When Daenys gives birth, I'll notify Dragonstone immediately. I hope you and Balerion can come pick them up," Aegon said softly.

"Alright." Aenar patted Aegon's back and added, "Don't worry. Your child with Daenys will inherit your title as Heir of the House. The family will never forget your sacrifice."

After letting go, Aenar went on to hug Daenys and Daenylis, his biological daughters.

"Goodbye, my daughters," he said, kissing Daenys on the forehead.

Tears welled up in Daenys's eyes. "Mm... goodbye."

After the nobles of House Valerys and House Celtigar had finished saying their farewells to the Targaryens, they stepped forward and placed a hand to their chests, bowing respectfully to Aegon.

"Prince Aegon, we will always remember your sacrifice," said the head of House Valerys sincerely.

"Prince Aegon, take care."

Aegon gave them a slight nod and said nothing more.

With Aegon's family watching from the shore, Aenar led the fleet away from the bay. The core members of House Targaryen, including Aenar, waved to Aegon in farewell.

Aegon and his three wives climbed a high hill near the bay. From here, the view was clear—they could see the fleet slowly heading west, deeper into the Summer Sea.

Tiamat and Dreamshade lay on the cliff's edge, roaring loudly after Balerion. Balerion turned his head and gave a responding roar to Tiamat, then continued flying alongside the ships, growing smaller and smaller in the distance.

...

At sea, aboard the flagship of House Targaryen, Aenar stood at the stern, gazing wistfully at his homeland.

Even someone like Aenar, known for his unshakable toughness, couldn't stop the tightness rising in his throat. This was the land where his family had taken root for thousands of years—and now, they had to abandon it.

As he was lost in the sorrow of parting, blood-red snowflakes suddenly began drifting around the stern, and a figure slowly took form.

The moment Aenar saw it, his expression turned solemn. He placed a hand over his chest and bowed deeply. "Elder, do you have any final instructions for House Targaryen?"

Pan's blood-red robe fluttered in the sea breeze, like a dancer suspended in the air. He drew a Dragonbone dagger from his waist and leaned forward, offering it to Aenar.

Aenar's heart jolted. The Elder was handing him the ancestral sacrificial blade of the Valyrians. He was only a minor Dragonlord—why would he be entrusted with such a sacred relic? But a gift from the Elder could not be refused. Without a second thought, he dropped to one knee and raised both hands above his head.

"From my blood, a prince (or princess) of destiny shall be born, and their will shall forge..." The Elder's ethereal voice drifted as if from a faraway shore.

Pan began chanting an ancient verse, but before he could finish, his form dissolved once again into a swirl of sorrowful snowflakes, scattering on the sea wind.

Lowering his head, Aenar suddenly felt a weight fall into his upraised hands. A dagger now lay in his palms, and its razor-sharp Valyrian steel edge had cut through his skin. He flinched from the pain and instinctively pulled back his hand—only to see the Elder had already vanished.

On the Dragonbone dagger, now stained with his blood, the verse Pan had begun chanting slowly emerged, glowing with a faint red light.

Staring at the blood-colored inscription, Aenar couldn't stop himself from softly speaking the five words the Elder had left unspoken:

"A Song of Ice and Fire!"