The councilors listened quietly as Pan issued his warning. Clearly, these were matters they already understood—Pan was simply reiterating them for Aegon, the newest member.
Aegon gave Pan a slight nod to show he had taken it in.
Pan went on, "Starting this year, we'll begin arranging for the high-ranking Valyrians who left to return to the Freehold. In five years, we'll recall the dragon tamers and dragons. Everything must be done to maximize the success rate of the grand plan."
The council members nodded in agreement.
"Understood."
"No problem."
This explanation answered another lingering question Aegon had about the original story. No wonder so few true dragons remained after the Doom. The Freehold was now the dominant power in the world, and dozens of dragons and dragonriders were still out there. But it turned out the Dragonlord Council had already summoned them all back.
"Aegon, the Bloodmage legacy you're seeking is in the Dragon Tower within the Floating City. The female Dragonblood Guard who brought you here earlier—she's a Bloodmage herself. If you have any questions, feel free to ask her."
Aegon inclined his head slightly. "Understood."
"Does anyone else have anything to add?" Pan asked, looking around.
Seeing that no one spoke, Pan declared the meeting adjourned.
Before leaving the metallic chamber, Aegon glanced back, casting a long look at the metal seat in the center that now belonged to him. He sighed inwardly. The next ten years will be a crossroads of fate. Should I go along with them—or sabotage the plan when the time comes?
...
Back in the exhibition cave, the reverse-jointed dragon creature still alive inside its vessel noticed the councilors preparing to leave. It—or rather, he—suddenly thrashed violently in the yellow liquid, claws scraping desperately against the glass walls. Its mouth opened, and a hoarse voice rasped out:
"Father... it hurts... it hurts, Father!"
The Head of House Aurélion, walking just ahead of Aegon, came to a sudden halt, his body frozen in place.
Aegon noticed his clenched fists trembling faintly. He turned his head, glancing between the dragon creature and the councilor, stunned. This man... he's actually the creature's father? That's brutal.
The Head of House Aurélion slowly raised his head, forcing a smile onto his face.
"Just a bastard. No need to trouble yourselves over it, my colleagues."
"Duriel, I never thought you had a soft side in you! Hahahaha!"
"A touching father-son moment, isn't it? Tsk, tsk!"
Aurélion chuckled and shook his head. "The grand plan is already in its final stage. This test subject no longer has any value. Best to dispose of him. Every time I see him, I feel nothing but disgust."
And just like that, the councilors laughed and joked as they walked out of the cave.
Aegon followed silently behind them, his decision already made.
...
Once back in the banquet hall, Aegon excused himself, claiming he needed to study the Bloodmage legacy in the Dragon Tower—using it as a way to escape the grotesque and debauched human feast.
...
Stepping out of the Blackstone Tower, Aegon let out a long, heavy breath.
Everything he had seen and heard in that Bloodmage research base weighed heavily on him. His worldview, shaped since childhood under the red banner, was being relentlessly challenged.
But Aegon had a defiant fire in his heart. The more these councilors tried to lure him into depravity through this grand plan, the more determined he became to resist—and punish the wicked.
This cruel pleasure... will end in cruelty.
"Prince Aegon, are you headed to the Dragon Tower?" The white dragon tamer approached and bowed respectfully.
Aegon gave a nod.
"This way, please." She gestured for him to follow.
"What should I call you?" Aegon asked, trailing behind her. He couldn't help but notice the generous curve of her swaying hips, accentuated by her slender waist—a figure that naturally drew a man's eye.
"My name is Tallasya. The elder is both my godfather and mentor. If you ever have any questions about Bloodmages, you can come to me. I live in the White Dragon Spire within the Floating City." She glanced back at Aegon with a smile. From this angle, he could see the soft white curves of her chest through her low-cut neckline.
"Any time?" Aegon asked with a grin.
"Of course."
They climbed back onto the white dragon and flew off to the left, soon arriving at another Blackstone tower. Aegon noted that the architecture here seemed universally built from black stone.
...
Inside the Dragon Tower, under Tallasya's guidance, Aegon began studying the foundational knowledge of Bloodmages.
The material wasn't difficult for him. With a simple chip scan, he could memorize everything. But some of the more abstract concepts gave him a real headache.
Having grown up in a world grounded in material reality, Aegon found it harder to grasp things like runes and visionary constructs than writing an entire thesis.
"You have an exceptional memory," Tallasya said, evaluating him. "It's just your comprehension that needs work."
Aegon simply scanned and backed up the essential Bloodmage teachings into his chip. He couldn't rely on instant enlightenment to master them, so he would have to take his time and work through them slowly.
...
After leaving the Dragon Tower, Aegon asked Tallasya to escort him back to the Targaryen Hills.
"My she-dragon just laid a pair of white dragon eggs. Don't you want to come take a look?" Tallasya pushed out her full chest with a slight lift.
Aegon smiled and shook his head. "My wife's dragon laid a pair too—and they're even bigger than yours," he replied tactfully.
Tallasya gave a soft chuckle, unbothered by his refusal.
...
As they emerged from the abyss of Bloodsource Peak and stepped into sunlight once again, Aegon instinctively squinted to adjust to the sudden brightness.
He glanced down toward the chasm below—an abyss so deep it seemed like a beast that could swallow the world whole. He couldn't even begin to guess how it had formed.
Back at the Targaryen main castle, Aegon returned to a relatively quiet routine, only occasionally heading to Bloodsource Peak to consult Tallasya on sorcery-related matters.
Several months later, Aegon finally mastered the Bloodmage method for training spiritual power.
This technique relied on achieving spiritual resonance with one's dragon. Similar to meditation, it simultaneously strengthened the minds of both the dragonrider and the dragon. However, its effectiveness was closely tied to the dragon's strength—the stronger the dragon, the more potent the feedback from the resonance.
Even so, the actual results were disappointing.
Every day, Aegon would descend to the bottom of the abyss and spend an hour resonating with Tiamat. Yet even with that effort, he was only gaining 0.1 spiritual power per month. And that was with Tiamat—a Dragonlord. One could only imagine how painfully slow the growth would be for Bloodmages bonding with ordinary magic dragons.
Another crucial aspect of the Bloodmage inheritance was bloodline synthesis.
According to the legacy records, dragons were not created by Valyrians. As far back as the Dawn Age of the world of ice and fire, dragons already existed as powerful native beasts.
The first Bloodmages, upon acquiring the bloodline synthesis technique, discovered that Dragonblood—drawn from the mightiest creatures in the world—could merge seamlessly with the blood of the demigod, without any rejection. So they combined Dragonblood and divine blood into their own veins, giving rise to what became known as True Dragonblood.
This part raised a question in Aegon's mind. The scrolls claimed the demigod already existed when Valyrians first arrived at the Fourteen Flames, yet the intelligence Aenar had gathered stated that the demigod creature didn't appear until roughly two thousand years ago. The contradiction gnawed at him.
After gaining a solid grasp of the synthesis techniques, Aegon built a personal lab beneath the Targaryen main castle—his own space to study and practice.
He even formalized the work into a dedicated research project, calling it [Seed of Life].
The initial purpose of the project was to deeply explore bloodline synthesis, but its ultimate aim was to solve a challenge from Aegon's main quest: procreation.
The [Seed of Life] would be created by fusing Aegon's own blood with Tiamat's Dragonblood, then implanting it into other organisms. This would allow Aegon to pass on his bloodline not through traditional reproduction, but via genetic inheritance—fulfilling one of the quest's core conditions.
If, one day, his bloodline were at risk of extinction, anyone who fused with one of his preserved Seeds of Life would keep his quest from failing.
To begin the process, Aegon submerged a piece of his flesh in Tiamat's Dragonblood. Thanks to the [S-rank: Seed of Life] talent tied to Tiamat's body—which had been restored to its full potential by divine blood—Tiamat had broken the shackles of life and could now evolve indefinitely. That trait was the very foundation of Aegon's confidence in the project.
In his underground lab, Aegon prepared 22 culture dishes containing both his flesh and Tiamat's Dragonlord blood.
Every other day, he would come down to document the experiment's progress.
He used his chip to run simulations and derive accurate results, adjusting the nutritional parameters of the Dragonblood accordingly.
By the second year, those tiny pieces of tissue had developed into distinct glandular forms.
Aegon crouched beside one of the red vessels, staring closely. Inside the glass container, filled with nutrient fluid and Dragonblood, floated a peanut-sized flesh node. Dozens of tiny tentacles extended from it, slowly writhing and stretching outward. It looked like a miniature tentacled planet, suspended in liquid.
"This thing kind of looks like a cancer cell," Aegon muttered, rubbing his chin with a puzzled expression.
He wasn't entirely sure whether his self-taught approach to cultivating Seeds of Life would actually make them viable for human hosts.
Maybe I should try it on a few rats first.
He stood, retrieved the experiment log hanging from the wall, and began noting the latest parameters. After recording the data, he hung the log back up, then stepped out of the lab and removed his sterile isolation suit.
After a quick shower, he made his way toward his bedroom.
Recently, Daenylis had become pregnant again, which left Daenys as the only one attending to him.
Aegon had converted the bedroom into a suite tailored for intimate activities, complete with various... implements. It wasn't that he was addicted to indulgence—this was all part of Daenys's own plan to train and improve her talent.
Her talent was [D-tier – Septon of Restraint II: +15 spiritual power when managing and suppressing one's desires. Upon breaking restraint, gains reverse talent: C-tier – Apostle of Lust].
It was a dual-path talent with massive potential. Using his chip, Aegon could see the specific conditions required to upgrade it, and thus could provide artificial support to help Daenys progress.
At her own request, Aegon had remodeled the bedroom into a specialized training space. After instructing a maid to summon Daenys, he began preparing for today's talent-enhancement session.
The requirement for unlocking [C-tier – Apostle of Lust] was to break self-restraint—something Aegon thought sounded quite simple.
The little gadgets he had prepared for Daenys were all designed to speed up the process.
…
The status of [D-Septon of Restraint II] was unsurprisingly broken.
[C-Apostle of Lust: Physical needs +200%. Your physical desires are out of control. While in this state, your mental strength increases by 25 points. You can influence others' physical desires through physical contact. Upon completely restraining your own desires, you will unlock the reverse talent: [C-Septon of Restraint].]
Aegon looked at his unsatisfied wife and refused her attempt to go further—after all, letting Daenys completely lose control wasn't what either of them wanted.
He asked her to hold on for a bit, then pulled a long red object from the closet. Though he'd never formally studied the... art, learning as he went wasn't a problem. With Daenys' cooperation, Aegon managed to carry out the rather demanding task.
He then hung it from a steel hook above the bed.
Daenys was suspended in midair, her body forming the shape of a character.
"Aegon, this isn't helping. I feel even more desire," Daenys panted.
As he continued, Aegon replied, "Darling, you need to restrain yourself."
Daenys twisted like a beautiful serpent, moaning, "I don't care, just give it to me! I want it!"
"Make up your mind—do you want it or not?"
...
After several nights of such struggle, the couple finally achieved their goal—Daenys successfully upgraded her talent to C-rank.
[C-Septon of Restraint: You can freely control your own physical desires, and also restrain the desires of others. Mental strength +25.]
Aegon had Daenys try her newfound power on him. In an instant, he entered a clear-headed, serene state—his mind empty and calm. He sensed that in this state, if he performed blood sorcery with a King-tier Dragon, his mental strength would likely grow faster than usual.
The 25-point mental boost from the Septon of Restraint brought Daenys' total mental strength to 124 points.
For all innate abilities, increased mental strength had a broad and strengthening effect.
That same night, after gaining the "Septon of Restraint" talent, Daenys prepared to guide Aegon into one of her dreams as he slept—to help restore the physical energy he had just exhausted.
But just as she was about to craft the dream, she accidentally noticed another dream glowing red in the Void.
This red dream loomed large—massive, in fact. If the dreams of ordinary people were like flickering candlelight, then this one blazed like a colossal, brilliant sun.
As the Lord of Dreams, Daenys instinctively paused her own dream creation, her curiosity piqued.
Who in Valyria could possess a dream this vast? she wondered.
Driven by curiosity, her soul floated like a feather toward the radiant red dream, shining like a sun-ship. She carefully reached out a finger, touched its surface, and poked a small hole. Her soul then transformed into a wisp of silver mist and drifted slowly through the opening into the red dream.
Inside, she found herself on a vast, boundless grassland. Emerald waves of grass rolled with the breeze, stretching endlessly toward the horizon.
Unlike the hazy, indistinct dreams of most people, everything here was sharp and vivid, as though reality itself had been perfectly reflected into this dream world. Every leaf vein, every dewdrop on each blade of grass—clear and unmistakable.
Daenys slowly materialized in the sky. She scanned her surroundings and, within moments, recognized where the dream had taken shape.
The Valyria Grasslands.
The Valyria Grasslands—the ancestral homeland of the Valyrians. Who could dream of such a place? Whoever it is, they must carry a deep love for the Valyrian people, and profound reverence for the ancestors, she thought.
A faint smile curled her lips. As someone born and raised in Valyria herself, she couldn't help but feel a special affection for those who honored her lineage.
She floated leisurely across the sky. Before long, she spotted a large nomadic tribe, with tents scattered neatly across the plains.
As the Lord of Dreams, Daenys could sense that the owner of the red dream was somewhere within that tribe.
She descended and began her search.
But no matter how carefully she combed through the camp, she couldn't find a trace of the dreamer.
Just then, a young shepherd boy slowly returned from the outskirts, driving a flock of sheep ahead of him.
The sheep bleated one after another, their voices echoing through the grasslands.
The boy swung his leather whip repeatedly, calling out to keep the flock in line—his flustered but earnest efforts made for a charming sight.
Seeing this, Daenys felt a surge of joy—she had finally found the one she was looking for. Just as she was about to approach the little shepherd boy and have a bit of fun teasing him, a sudden and astonishing change erupted in the sky.
It began with a series of deafening, thunderous booms.
A blazing red comet streaked across the heavens, its long tail trailing behind like a blazing banner, lighting up nearly half the sky. The light it cast was so intense it outshone the noonday sun, flooding the entire dreamscape in a vivid crimson glow.
The shepherd boy looked up at the sky as well, his young face filled with wonder and curiosity.
All around, herders poured out of their tents, raising their hands to shield their eyes from the comet's piercing glare. Their expressions were a mix of shock and a growing fear of the unknown.
Daenys also looked up at the mysterious red comet, and the sense of unease in her heart grew stronger with each passing moment.
The red comet, with its radiant trail, blazed across the sky like a meteor of divine fire. But instead of fading into the distance, it plunged downward at a speed that took one's breath away. As it approached the earth, it grew larger and larger, until even the roaring flames on its surface could be seen with the naked eye.
With the comet's descent, the ground began to tremble violently. The quakes grew more intense, as if the entire dream world were a fragile eggshell about to be shattered by this immense force.
Daenys' eyes widened in awe as she stared at the spectacular and terrifying sight before her, unable to express the dread rising in her chest.
The red comet tore through the sky, heading straight for the Valyria Mountains at the edge of the plains like a divine judgment.
With a deafening impact, it slammed into the mountains.
In that instant, a massive earthquake erupted. The grasslands surged like the ocean, rippling in violent waves that rolled outward in every direction, leaving destruction in their path.
Boom——
A continuous roar followed the shockwave, like thunder rolling endlessly from the point of impact. The sound echoed outward, as if this sonic force alone could shatter the entire world.
Fortunately, the fourteen highest peaks of the Valyria Mountains acted like an unyielding shield, absorbing the brunt of the blast. Thanks to them, the nomadic tribe was spared from total annihilation.
But those fourteen peaks had been ignited by the meteor's impact, setting off an enormous wildfire. Each mountain now burned like a towering torch, turning the sky blood red with their flames.
After the calamity passed, the herders gathered together, faces pale with fear. One by one, they dropped to their knees before the Valyria Mountains, chanting prayers and bowing low, believing this to be divine punishment—a warning from the gods.
Only the little shepherd boy stood alone, still sucking on his fingers, dazed and unbothered.
The firelight cast a crimson glow across his face.
To Daenys, the image before her was strangely inverted—like the boy was a god standing above them all, while the hundreds of herders bowed devoutly at his feet. The scene felt oddly surreal.
And in that moment, everything clicked for her.
Daenys suddenly understood who the true master of this red dream was.
The little shepherd slowly pulled his finger from his mouth, grinned foolishly, then raised a hand and pointed toward the mountain peaks burning like fourteen blazing torches.
He turned to the worshipping herders and shouted with delight, "Now that the Ancestral Mountain's on fire, why not rename it the Fourteen Flames!"
Then, without hesitation, he turned and sprinted toward the blazing peaks.
Behind him, a herder cried out, "Pan! Where are you going? The Ancestral Mountain's under divine punishment—that's hell itself!"
Pan glanced back, pointed toward the terrified sheep stampeding toward the flames after the quake, and shouted, "My sheep are running away! The gods can't have my sheep!"