"Damn dragons!"
Archon Bambarro Bazanne's face was chalk-white, his soul practically fleeing his body.
He sprinted back to his private estate with one single thought burning in his mind: grab Prince Viserys and use the boy as a human shield. That was his only chance to survive.
Sheepstealer circled low behind the Cannibal while Nettles gripped the reins tight, eyes locked on the Unsullied reforming down below. She followed Logar's orders to the letter, sealing off every escape route and burning down any mercenaries stupid enough to chase them.
Inside the estate, Bambarro stumbled through the front gates and screamed at his men to hold the entrance. Then he rushed straight into the underground cellar to collect his prize.
Prince Viserys—only seven years old—was happily playing with blocks alongside Bambarro's daughter. He hadn't learned hatred yet. Since falling into the Archon's hands, he'd been fed the best food, given toys, and had someone to play with every day. The boy was actually enjoying himself.
"Your Highness, come with me right now! I'm taking you somewhere even more fun!"
The moment Bambarro burst into the cellar he snatched the little prince's hand. There was no time to pack valuables—he didn't have any left anyway. Viserys was now the most expensive thing he owned.
"Daddy, where are you taking him? Can I come too…?"
Bambarro's daughter ran over with big, teary eyes and hugged his leg.
But this was no time for fatherly comfort. He hardened his heart, ignored her pleas, and dragged the prince toward the exit.
"No time! I already have a ship ready for Volantis.
Once we're aboard, I'll sell the prince to the highest bidder. Even if I can never be Archon again, I'll still walk away rich and live like a king!"
Fueled by that desperate hope, Bambarro tightened his grip on the short knife in one hand and the boy in the other and ran.
Then the roof exploded.
BOOM!
One massive black claw slammed down. The reinforced iron gates crumpled like tin foil and flew in every direction.
Logar sat tall on the Cannibal's back, his shadow swallowing the entire estate, violet eyes colder than winter steel.
Nettles landed Sheepstealer on the opposite high wall, sealing the trap. She didn't speak—just gripped the saddle, ready to answer Logar's command in a heartbeat.
"Bambarro! I'll give you ten seconds to come out and die! Refuse, and I burn this whole damn mansion to the ground!"
Logar hovered high on the Cannibal, itching to smash the luxurious estate apart and rescue the prince.
He started counting.
The front doors flew open.
Bambarro stepped out with a short knife pressed to little Viserys's throat, face twisted with madness as he screamed:
"Stay back, you dragon bastard! One more step and I slit his throat!
I know why you're here! Try anything and you'll never get your precious prince back alive!"
Seven-year-old Viserys was pale as a ghost, shaking so hard he couldn't speak. He didn't understand why the nice man who'd been playing with him suddenly wanted to kill him.
Then he saw Logar and the Cannibal descend. His frightened eyes lit up with recognition.
He knew that black dragon. He'd seen Logar tame it back on Dragonstone. A tiny spark of hope flared in his chest.
Mommy sent him! She misses me! He's here to save me!
Logar's expression darkened.
He could ignore the Unsullied. He could level Lys. He could burn everything in sight.
But he would not gamble with Viserys's life.
"What do you want?" he asked coldly.
"Make your dragons leave my sight! Then you drop every weapon and come in alone to negotiate!"
His mercenaries were dead. His gates were smashed. No reinforcements were coming. Bambarro finally understood—he'd been abandoned by the entire city of Lys.
Rogare, Vhyss, and the rest were probably watching from the shadows, laughing, waiting for him to die.
Rage and hatred turned his eyes blood-red. His voice rose to a shriek. "You pushed me too far! Try any tricks and the boy dies right here!"
Logar stared at the knife against the prince's neck and drew a slow breath.
"Fine. I accept."
He slid off the Cannibal's back, signaled Nettles to pull both dragons back out of sight, and walked toward the mansion alone.
No one saw the slim silver dagger Baela had given him, hidden inside his sleeve—light, easy to conceal, and deadly sharp.
"Wait outside, Cannibal."
Nettles understood instantly from her position high above. She was worried, but her trust in Logar was absolute. She gently patted Sheepstealer's neck.
The brown dragon gave a low rumble, spread its wings, and climbed higher to keep watch.
As long as she was in the air, Bambarro had zero chance of escape.
"ROAR!"
The Cannibal answered with a deep growl. One massive wingbeat shook the entire estate; roof tiles rattled like bones.
Logar stayed perfectly calm and stepped alone into the grand hall.
The doors slammed shut behind him.
From the shadows on both sides, half a dozen elite guards exploded forward, blades raised.
"Hahahaha! Die!" Bambarro's face split into a triumphant, insane grin. "You really thought I'd negotiate?!"
His plan had been simple from the start: use the prince as bait to lure Logar inside and kill the dragonrider. Once the biggest threat was gone, the girl on the other dragon would be easy.
And Logar had walked right into the trap. Bambarro's laughter rang with pure, vengeful delight.
Ambush.
Logar's eyes turned to ice.
The instant the first blade came down he twisted sideways. His sleeve flicked. The silver dagger was suddenly in his hand.
No fancy moves—just the brutal, street-honed efficiency he'd learned clawing his way up from the bottom.
Thud.
The dagger punched straight through the lead guard's throat. Blood sprayed.
Logar spun, blocked, slashed another throat, stabbed a heart—every motion a lethal blur.
The guards never even had time to scream before they dropped dead in their own blood.
Bambarro's victorious laugh froze on his face.
"You… you hid a weapon?!"
Logar stepped over the corpses, boots leaving bloody prints, and stopped right in front of the Archon.
He looked down at the man like he was already a corpse.
"Now… it's your turn."
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Outside, the Cannibal grew impatient and slammed its claws into the outer walls. Every impact made the beams groan. Dust rained down. The whole building screamed like it was about to collapse.
Bambarro knew he had run out of time.
He broke completely, pressing the knife harder against Viserys's neck.
"Stay back! I'll kill him—I swear!"
Logar stopped. His eyes turned dangerously flat.
The moment Bambarro's focus slipped, Logar's arm snapped forward.
Silver flashed.
Thud.
The dagger buried itself through Bambarro's shoulder, pinning his arm to the wall.
"AAAHH!"
The pain made him drop the knife. It clattered to the floor.
Logar moved like a shadow, snatched the terrified prince behind him, then drove a brutal fist straight into Bambarro's face.
The Archon crashed to the ground.
"No—!"
Blood poured from Bambarro's mouth as he lay there, screaming in despair.
Logar planted a boot on his chest and looked down without a trace of mercy.
"You should've died a long time ago."
He ripped the dagger free from the man's shoulder, reversed it, and sliced Bambarro's throat in one clean motion.
Blood gushed. Viserys, still cradled safely in Logar's arms, stared in stunned silence as the Archon clutched his spurting neck and died.
When the noise inside finally stopped, Nettles let out a huge breath of relief and broke into a bright, happy smile.
She knew it. Lord Logar never let her down. If he said he would do something—he did it.
Outside, the Cannibal's triumphant roar shook the night sky of Lys.
Logar stepped out of the collapsing mansion with Prince Viserys safe in his arms. The massive black dragon lowered its head gently, welcoming its rider.
Mission complete.