Where was he supposed to find the Blood of the true dragon?
Pick Dragon seeds from among the Dragon Guards?
Not feasible!
After the tragedy of Summerhall, the family was sparsely populated, with no one to sow seeds. The Dragon seeds on Dragonstone were separated by unknown generations, and the dragon blood was as thin as this.
It was hard to even find a few silver-haired Dragon seeds.
Who else on Dragonstone had the Blood of the true dragon?
Daeron lowered his head and remained silent. Within his unnoticed shell, a ball of fire slowly accumulated in his chest.
A moment later.
"Prince, what are you doing!?"
Ser Jon let out a cry of alarm.
He was most worried about Daeron's condition. While on guard, he looked back and saw a heart-pounding scene.
"What's going on?"
Barristan and Davos both turned their heads.
The next second, they saw Daeron expressionless, striding toward the bonfire while pulling open his collar and taking off his outer garment.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The fire rose with the wind, its blazing tongues seeming to try and force him back.
Daeron remained unmoved. He pulled out a dagger and cut the palms of both hands, bright red blood dripping like beads.
"You want the Blood of the true dragon, don't you? Take it!"
His voice carried a hint of madness, but his remaining reason prevailed, remembering the great ideal of bringing dragons back to the world.
What Daenerys could do.
He, Daeron Targaryen, could also do!
If The Unburnt was favored by fate, then in an era before The Unburnt was born, he would take her place.
"Blood and fire are of the same source!!"
Daeron muttered in his heart and stepped into the flames.
"Prince!!"
Everything happened too fast. The three people present were anxious but had no time to stop him.
Ser Jon became dazed, reaching out to touch the edge of the flames, but he was always a step too slow.
"Not good, get back!"
Suddenly, Barristan grabbed his Kingsguard brother and retreated.
Boom—!!
The blazing bonfire suddenly surged. The salty sea breeze swept through the flames, turning into a fire tornado surging toward the sky. Ashes danced and fell like a rain of fire... Day broke.
The fire that had burned all night gradually went out.
"Prince..."
Ser Jon's eyes were lifeless, looking as if he had lost his soul. He knelt dejectedly at the edge of the ashes.
It had been a whole night.
Who in the world could burn in a fire all night and still be alive?
Davos's lips were parched, and he spoke in a raspy voice: "Sers, let's... let's collect the remains."
Collect what? Naturally, the ashes!
Although he didn't want to accept it, the Prince who valued him had walked into the sea of fire himself.
"Perk up."
Barristan's expression was solemn.
He had not given up.
His calloused palm gripped the hilt of his sword. He moved his heavy legs, walking step by step toward the ashes.
He also refused to believe it.
He didn't believe that a prince who could gather three dragon eggs in a short time, slay a rogue dragon alone, and whose will was like gold, would lose his mind and seek death.
Hatching dragons was an obsession that generations of Targaryens had struggled to pursue.
The "Tall" Ser Duncan he admired, and His Majesty Aegon V whom he once wished to serve, had both died because of this obsession.
"The Targaryens should not lose another good prince to this."
Barristan's will was tough. Showing the determination and courage he had when he broke into Duskendale alone, he stepped onto the ash residue that still had sparks.
One step, two steps... Ser Jon and Davos were encouraged, dragging their heavy, weary bodies as they slowly followed behind the legendary Kingsguard.
Suddenly, Barristan froze.
The two behind him were puzzled.
Crack! Crack, crack!
A slight noise came from where the ashes were piled.
"Is... is it true?"
Barristan was uncertain and suspicious. He took a sword-drawing stance, but the hand holding the sword was trembling.
He investigated intently.
At the edge of a pitch-black dragon skull, a curled-up body slowly straightened its back, and fine ashes rustled off its surface.
!!!
Barristan sucked in a breath of cold air, looking as if he had seen a ghost.
The ashes fell away, and the true face appeared.
Daeron raised his head, his eyelids trembling slightly as he opened a pair of purple eyes.
Whoosh!
A sea breeze blew by, kicking up ashes into the morning light, like gray-white flowers filling the sky.
"Scree... ch..."
"Screech!"
A sudden, sharp screeching sounded, injecting endless Life Force into the world and breaking the dead silence.
Blue sky and white clouds, the towering Dragonmont.
Under the gaze of the three, or perhaps the whole world, the white body slowly stood up, arms folded in front of his chest, two long and powerful legs like a giant standing between heaven and earth.
"I'm... still alive?"
Daeron felt as if a lifetime had passed. His eyes calmly looked around, taking in this world of a new day.
"Screech!"
"Scree... ch..."
He looked down, and three young dragons were fluttering in his arms.
In the crook of his left arm, a young dragon with cobalt-blue scales was perched, trying to stand with its feet spread.
On the right side, extending to the whole shoulder, a young dragon with red scales opened its molten gold vertical pupils. It wrapped its snake-like body twice around his arm and spread a pair of wide, transparent red dragon wings.
"Screech~~"
The last young dragon climbed up to the top of his head along his left shoulder. It was pitch black like charcoal, staring with green vertical pupils and letting out a strange screech from its dragon snout.
"Dragons!"
Daeron was dazed. There was joy in the birth of the young dragons, but none of the previous obsession, urgency, or loss of self-control.
His heart was at peace.
What seemed peaceful to him was nothing less than a bombardment that overturned the worldview of others.
Thump!
Barristan took half a step back and knelt straight down on one knee.
He didn't know why he did this, nor why he felt a lump in his throat, unable to say a word.
Daeron stood in the sunlight.
The sky and the mountains bore witness for him, the ashes and the sea breeze baptized him, and everything in the world had a voice, as if celebrating for him.
This scene was like a god or a saint.
Barristan looked up and actually had the illusion of gazing upon a holy countenance.
"Prince!"
"Prince...!"
Ser Jon and Davos came back to life, moved beyond words, and both knelt on one knee.
Daeron came back to his senses, understood his situation, and accepted it all calmly.
Seeing people kneeling before their father, the three young dragons also did their best to stand up, spreading their wings as if in a demonstration of power.
The next moment, the three young dragons screeched in unison.
"Screech!"
"Screech—!!"
...King's Landing.
Red Keep, Throne Room.
Tywin's face was gloomy as he strode toward the hall.
The King suddenly summoned him, and the Hand of the King had to comply.
"Lord Tywin, do you know what happened that made His Majesty convene a meeting so urgently?"
Varys had been waiting at the entrance of the hall for a long time. Seeing the newcomer, he approached to strike up a conversation.
Tywin glanced at him and said indifferently, "When it comes to intelligence capabilities, who can compare to The Spider?"
Varys shrugged and said helplessly, "You overpraise me, my lord."
This time, he really didn't know the reason.
The two walked into the hall together.
Bang!
A goblet was thrown out, followed immediately by the King's roar.
"Fire! I want fire!"
Aerys looked insane, shouting at the top of his lungs: "Who knows where Barristan has gone? And that boy Daeron?"
The ministers below were as quiet as cicadas in winter.
Lord Chelsted was the unluckiest; his forehead was hit by the wine cup bouncing off the floor, causing a bump.
As soon as Tywin entered, he saw the King going mad.
But he didn't care; he had long since grown used to it.
What truly made him frown was that Aerys was shouting for "fire" and had also mentioned Daeron and Barristan.
"What kind of devilish idea is he up to now?"
Tywin was resentful in his heart, only hating that there was no capable person on the iron throne.
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