The naval battle in the Gullet raged for two full days and nights.
Thanks to Logar's decisive early move, he and Nettles had stationed themselves near Tidehead Island ahead of time. They burned every Triarchy ship that tried to slip through, one after another, completely preventing the massacre that had happened in the original timeline.
Not only had they saved over a thousand lives, they had also protected both his own holdings and the Sea Snake's assets.
The price was steep. Both the Cannibal and Sheepstealer were utterly spent.
After hours of nonstop fighting, their wingbeats had grown sluggish and neither dragon could summon even a single spark of flame.
Looking at the two exhausted beasts, Logar and Nettles felt a sharp pang of sympathy.
But there was no time to comfort them. A devastating report from the Gullet hit them like a thunderbolt.
Vermax had fallen. His rider, Prince Jacaerys, was mortally wounded and fading fast.
The news struck Logar hardest. Even after everything he had changed, he still hadn't been able to rewrite the prince's tragic fate.
There was no time to mourn. The enemy ships heading for Tidehead had already been terrified into retreat by the sight of the Cannibal and Sheepstealer. Logar gave the order and the two of them raced toward the Gullet at full speed.
By the time they arrived, the Triarchy forces had already begun withdrawing.
The sea was a floating graveyard—charred shipwrecks and blackened corpses littered the waves. The water was stained red with blood and thick with oil, a scene straight from hell.
Logar didn't waste time counting the World Devourers' losses. He flew straight to the command tent and found Prince Jacaerys lying inside, deathly pale, arrows still buried in his body.
"Lord Sea Burner…" Addam looked up, eyes heavy with grief. "Prince Jacaerys… doesn't have much time left."
Inside the tent stood Addam, Hugh Hammer with his usual indifference, Ulf the White, and the maester tending the wounds. The healer could only shake his head helplessly.
With injuries that severe, surviving long enough to be pulled from the sea had already been a miracle. The prince was clinging to life by nothing more than sheer will. No one could save him now.
"Sea Burner…"
Jacaerys's voice was a faint rasp. He clearly had final words.
"Prince Jacaerys… I'm sorry I came too late!"
Logar rushed forward, face tight with real sorrow.
He wasn't pretending. Among the Black leadership, Jacaerys had always been friendly, even generous with gifts. They were close in age and shared a quiet respect. It genuinely pained him to see the prince like this.
"It's all right… I can already see the Stranger waving me over…" Jacaerys managed a weak, pale smile when he saw Logar's expression. His fingers twitched. "My sister Baela… I leave her in your hands. You… you have to take good care of her for me."
Logar's heart jolted.
He had never expected Jacaerys to know about him and Baela all along. Why had he never said a word?
After those words, Jacaerys grew even weaker. His voice came in broken gasps.
"I know… you're exceptional. So I'm entrusting you with one last task…
Find my little brother… Vi… Viserys."
With that final request, Jacaerys's hand fell limp. He was gone.
Addam, Nettles, Hugh Hammer, and Ulf the White all froze.
The heir to the Blacks was dead.
Logar gently closed the prince's eyes and rose in heavy silence. The air in the tent seemed to freeze solid.
Then, in an ice-cold voice, he turned on Hugh Hammer and Ulf the White.
"Tell me—when Prince Jacaerys charged into the enemy fleet, what exactly were the two of you doing?"
Both men flinched at the sudden accusation.
"I was busy sinking their ships, of course!" Ulf the White answered quickly. "The prince was the one who insisted on flying that low. Even if I'd wanted to stop him, I couldn't!
Lord Sea Burner, you're not suggesting I stood by and did nothing, are you?"
Ulf clearly feared the battle-hardened Sea Burner. He lied smoothly out of habit. The battlefield had been pure chaos—who could prove exactly where he'd been flying?
"And you?" Logar asked coldly, fixing his gaze on Hugh Hammer.
The stocky, blacksmith-born bastard felt the same crushing pressure he'd once felt facing Vermithor.
This was actually the first real conversation the two bastard dragonriders had ever had. In the past, Logar had always been the center of attention while Hugh lingered in the shadows like a nobody.
The memory made Hugh's fists clench until his knuckles cracked.
"Ulf already told you," he growled. "It was the prince who flew too low and got reckless. It had nothing to do with us."
He forced a cold smile. "And don't think everyone calling you 'Sea Burner' means I'm afraid of you. We're both bastards. You have no right to question me!"
With that, Hugh Hammer turned and stormed out of the tent. He mounted Vermithor and flew off toward Dragonstone.
Ulf the White, both excited and nervous, gave Logar a fake, ingratiating smile before hurrying after him on Silverwing.
"Those two… were lying," Addam said quietly once they were gone. "They were right above those ships the whole time. They watched Prince Jacaerys and Vermax get surrounded and did nothing. I saw it clearly. They never once ordered their dragons to descend and help."
Nettles lowered her head. "I've heard… their reputation on Dragonstone was already terrible. The queen's servants say that after becoming dragonriders, they demanded gold, lands, and even tried to force themselves on the queen's maids."
Logar let out a cold laugh.
He hadn't planned to settle accounts over Jacaerys's death. He already knew from the original story exactly what kind of men Hugh and Ulf were. He had intended to let them follow their natural path to ruin.
But during that brief eye contact, he had sensed something deep and poisonous in Hugh Hammer's gaze—pure, festering hatred.
That kind of hatred didn't form between two men who had barely spoken.
Which meant Hugh had already been nursing a grudge against him in secret for some time.
Given Hugh's background—a lifetime spent at the bottom of society—it made sense. Small-minded, vindictive, suddenly elevated to dragonrider, he would want to make up for every past humiliation.
"I was going to let you two walk naturally toward your doom," Logar murmured, watching the bronze and silver dragons flying away side by side.
His violet eyes flashed with killing intent.
"But now… it looks like I'll have to crush you ahead of schedule."