Chapter 133: Overestimating One's Strength
Drogon was just about to swoop down and seize Euron when something unexpected made him pause.
Instead of fleeing, Euron calmly leaned back against a trebuchet and sat down.
He tilted his chin toward the sky, his right eye narrowing slightly—while his left rolled upward, revealing nothing but the whites.
"Warg…"
The sight of that all-too-familiar blank eye startled Drogon. He hadn't expected Euron to possess such an ability.
The thought had barely crossed his mind when a sharp buzzing erupted in his head. For a split second, his consciousness froze, his thoughts grinding to a halt. Only after violently shaking his head did he manage to recover.
"You're courting death!"
From afar, Drogon could see Euron trembling uncontrollably beside the siege engine. In an instant, he understood—the man was actually trying to dominate him with his warg abilities.
Roar!
Drogon let out a thunderous roar. A violent surge of mental force burst forth, following that faint invasive thread within his mind and striking back with overwhelming fury.
"Ahhh—!"
Euron's scream tore through the air, raw and agonized. He raised a hand to clutch his eye—
Pop!
With a sickening sound, his eyeball exploded, spraying blood across his face.
His mouth opened as if to speak, but no words came. His body stiffened… and then he collapsed lifelessly onto the deck.
---
Hovering slowly above him, Drogon gazed down at the corpse.
The empty, hollow eye socket.
The mangled flesh.
The chest that no longer rose or fell.
Even he hadn't expected that single mental backlash to be so devastating—to burst Euron's eye outright.
Utterly overestimating himself.
That was all Drogon could say about Euron's foolish attempt to control him.
---
From a distance, as Euron's body crumpled onto the deck, the surrounding warships ceased their assault. With no further interest in burning them, Drogon seized the dragon horn and flew back toward the city walls.
Seeing Drogon return unharmed—with the horn in his grasp—Daenerys finally let out a breath of relief.
Rhaegal and Viserion, meanwhile, were still recovering from its effects. They lay sprawled on the ground, too exhausted to even move.
Drogon hadn't expected the horn's influence to be so severe. They had only been exposed to it briefly, yet even now they hadn't fully recovered.
To him, the dragon horn seemed less like a tool of absolute control and more like a cruel device—something akin to a tightening curse, forcing dragons into submission through unbearable pain rather than true domination.
"Drogon, where is Euron? Why has his fleet stopped attacking?"
At the memory of Euron's gruesome end, Drogon simply shook his head.
"He's dead?" Daenerys asked, startled.
Drogon nodded.
At the same time, a thought crossed his mind—perhaps he should have brought the body back as well.
---
With confirmation in hand, Daenerys turned her gaze to the sea.
The ships nearest the walls had already begun to turn away, their formation collapsing into chaos.
Without hesitation, she ordered the iron gate beneath the city—where the Skahazadhan River met the Summer Sea—to be opened. Waiting forces under Yara surged forward in pursuit, while she signaled Daario, who had maneuvered away from Euron earlier, to begin the attack.
As their fleet launched a full counteroffensive, Daenerys finally turned her attention to the dragon horn Drogon had retrieved.
The horn was smooth, exquisite—beautiful, even.
And yet, it was this very object that had tormented Rhaegal and Viserion… and sought to enslave them.
Clang!
Without warning, she drew the sword at her side—Jorah's blade—and brought it down hard against the horn's mouthpiece.
Once.
It didn't break.
Twice.
Still intact.
On the third strike, the mouthpiece finally shattered and fell away.
Drogon: [...]
Such a finely crafted object—he had been planning to study it, perhaps even keep it as a curiosity.
And just like that… it was destroyed.
Jorah, too, was caught off guard by Daenerys's sudden action. When he felt her draw his sword, he hadn't stopped her—never expecting she intended to destroy the horn.
"I hope this is the last dragon horn in the world," Daenerys said, exhaling sharply as she sheathed the sword back into Jorah's scabbard, a trace of anger finally leaving her voice.
Although it was a pity to see the dragon horn's mouthpiece shattered, everyone understood that it could never be allowed to remain intact. If it ever fell into the wrong hands, it could once again become a weapon against Queen Daenerys.
Once Meereen's forces began their pursuit, Drogon wasted no time. He smacked Rhaegal and Viserion up from the ground—this was far too valuable a real combat opportunity to waste—and ordered them into the air to support Daario's assault.
Though the two younger dragons were still mentally drained, they didn't dare disobey. Weakly beating their wings, they forced themselves into flight.
Not long after they set off, Drogon shrank his form and followed at a distance, circling high above to observe the entire battlefield.
It didn't take long for him to notice something.
On two warships below, several men were cranking massive scorpion ballistae into position—aiming directly at Rhaegal and Viserion.
So Euron had indeed managed to acquire giant crossbows.
No wonder he had boldly led his fleet straight to Meereen—he must have been utterly confident in his ability to deal with Daenerys.
With scorpions, a dragon horn, and that eerie "crow's eye" of his… ordinary dragons would have struggled greatly against such methods.
Drogon couldn't be certain whether Euron's strange eye could truly control dragons, but judging from the earlier mental intrusion, even if it couldn't fully dominate Rhaegal and Viserion, it could certainly disrupt them for a short time.
With those three anti-dragon tools combined, if not for Drogon—this evolved dragon—Daenerys would have had no real way to withstand Euron's assault.
Below, the scorpions were turning into position.
Yet the two dragons remained unaware, still sluggishly breathing fire with dulled senses.
Drogon watched from afar, making no move to warn them.
He simply observed—waiting to see how they would handle it.
---
Viserion, still mentally fatigued, incinerated the soldiers on one ship. Just as he turned toward his next target, a sudden chill ran across his scales—an instinctive warning.
He snapped his head around.
A familiar black dot was hurtling toward him at terrifying speed.
He barely managed two desperate beats of his wings before a massive bolt screamed past his chest, grazing his scales. The near miss sent a shudder through his entire body.
That had been far too close.
From that moment on, Viserion abandoned all carelessness. Sharpening his focus, he quickly spotted the ship that had fired at him and dove straight down.
They dared to ambush him with a scorpion?
He wasn't about to let that slide.
This wasn't training under the boss—where he could only endure blows without retaliation.
And without Drogon's protection here, if he had failed to dodge just now, that bolt might have cost him his life.
Seeing Viserion dive toward them, the soldiers on the ship hurriedly reloaded and fired again.
But if they couldn't hit him the first time, they certainly wouldn't now.
With a slight tilt of his body, Viserion effortlessly evaded the incoming bolt and surged above the ballista.
Fury overtook him.
Forgetting Drogon's earlier order to burn only the men and spare the ships, he unleashed two blasts of dragonfire—
And reduced both ship and crew to ashes.
Only after venting his anger did he cautiously scan nearby vessels for more scorpions before moving on to his next target.
At nearly the same time Viserion was attacked, Rhaegal was also struck by a surprise shot.
Her evasion was slightly off—her wing was grazed by the bolt.
Watching the two younger dragons from above, Drogon felt mostly satisfied.
After all, they were still recovering from the dragon horn's effects. Slower reactions were to be expected—and perhaps this scare would teach them a valuable lesson.
While Drogon calmly observed the battlefield from above, he had no idea that those two bolts had nearly frightened Daenerys out of her wits as she watched from the city walls.
She had thought the scorpions used by the Ghiscari were already rare enough—
Yet Euron had mounted them on warships… and had nearly succeeded in ambushing her dragons.