Chapter 32 Dragon's Nest
Vermithor, still unsatisfied, finished burning the last wave of Dornish raiders, making them scream in agony, before slowly turning his head and flying towards Blackhaven. The Dragon circled Blackhaven several times, hesitant to land.
Lord Edric Dondarrion hurriedly waved his hands. "Quick, quick, go guide the Prince to land."
The soldiers of House Dondarrion within the castle rushed to their main tower and waved flags, signaling that the Dragon could land on the open ground.
Vermithor looked at the main tower of Blackhaven with some hesitation, carefully approaching it with visible caution, and slowly landed atop the main tower.
Silverwing had no such concerns; his size was not large enough to worry about collapsing someone else's castle. After Vermithor took off, he landed directly on the main tower.
Lord Edric Dondarrion, accompanied by a maester and attendants, stood obediently in front of the main tower gate, waiting for the two brothers to descend. Then they saw the two brothers, wearing Valyrian steel armor, walk towards them.
Dragonzel took off his helmet and bowed slightly. "I have come as promised."
"Prince, thank you very much. May the Seven bless your greatness and kindness," Lord Edric Dondarrion said, showing no surprise at the young age of these two Dragon Knights. After all, he had taken on the heavy burden of Lord at this age, and his son was fighting against the Dornish at this age, living up to the fame of the Purple Lightning.
"Jon is with our people," Dragonzel walked over to Lord Edric. "He will return to the Dornish Marches with the fleet."
"I am completely at ease with your arrangements," Lord Edric quickly instructed the castle servants to tidy the hall and prepare food. "Please forgive me, Blackhaven has been besieged by the Dornish for a long time and lacks fresh meat."
"There's always bread and salt, right?" Valarr said with a smile. He had crammed knowledge about Westeros on the ship and couldn't help but show off a little now.
"Of course," Lord Edric straightened his back immediately and said proudly, "The hospitality of House Dondarrion is renowned throughout the Dornish Marches and Stormlands."
Entering the castle's main hall, an attendant handed over a plate of shredded white bread and a pinch of salt. Lord Edric was not polite, picking up a piece of bread, dipping it in salt, and swallowing it. Seeing the Lord finish his bread, Dragonzel also picked up a piece of bread, dipped it in salt, and threw it into his mouth, chewing.
Westeros's white bread was a bit coarser than the East Continent's white bread, but the texture was richer.
The reception food was quite abundant. Onions and green peas were mixed together and a little cured meat was added to stew into a pot of hot thick soup. Lord Edric ordered the slaughter of the last few sheep raised in the castle, using fresh lamb to make lamb pies and lamb and turnip thick soup, as well as a mixed salad of chopped turnips and cabbage. The castle's stored sausages were taken out by the cook, some were cut into small pieces and smoked, and some were stewed with lamb offal into a thick soup. There was also wine from the Arbor and Dorne's golden wine, as well as somewhat refined white bread and a generous portion of wheat porridge.
"Prince, I have prepared rooms for you and the Princes. Lightning Tower will be under your management until your castle is completed. The servants of House Dondarrion are your servants."
"Thank you," Dragonzel speared a piece of roasted sausage. Although it had obviously been stored for a long time, the taste was surprisingly good. "I will pay rent."
"Your willingness to come to our rescue is already payment enough," Lord Edric said with emotion. "This battle, my family will need at least five years to barely recover. Those gods-forsaken bastards, scum, sewer rats, bedbugs, damned brain-eaten Dornish raiders from House Wyl, I will skin them sooner or later."
Dragonzel quietly enjoyed the food, not touching the wine, just listening to the Lord's complaints. Seeing his brother not speaking, Valarr also swallowed the words he was about to boast about along with the wheat porridge.
"Thank you for your hospitality," Dragonzel wiped his mouth clean. "I will have to trouble you for some time. As for Dorne, they will pay the price for their foolish actions sooner or later. Debts must be repaid."
"I want Jon to follow you, what do you think?"
"Ser Jon has already been knighted," Dragonzel shook his head. "My attendant is only Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, but Ser Jon can train with Lynn and the others." He looked into the Lord's eyes. "I will be undertaking quite a few projects on my territory. If Ser Jon wants to learn, he is free to do so."
"Thank you so much," Lord Edric slammed his fork onto the table. All the people from House Dondarrion at the banquet raised their glasses simultaneously. "If House Dondarrion had not been loyal to House Baratheon of Storm's End for generations, I would rather you become the true Lord Paramount of the Stormlands."
"I respect your traditions," Dragonzel said with a smile, standing up and raising the cup filled with the light fruit wine they brought. "To our friendship, may it last forever."
"To our friendship, may it last forever! Long live Prince Longze'er!"
"To our friendship, may it last forever! Long live Prince Longze'er!"
The bard invited by Lord Edric saw the Lord nod to him and began strumming his harp, singing praises to Dragonzel's rescue.
slowly, something black like liquid flowed down from the mountain. Dragonzel tightly grasped the handle of the Dragon saddle, carefully fine-tuning Vermithor's Dragonflame.
Before setting off, Dragonzel had mixed a large amount of blood attached with spells into the flesh and blood he fed Vermithor. The image of the castle slowly outlined in his mind.
The same image slowly appeared on the mountain peak.
Nine towering towers gradually emerged from the melting mountain. The shape of a giant Dragon was faintly visible at the top of the tallest tower.
The tall city walls also slowly peeled away from the mountain peak. The mountain body, which had gradually turned pure black, was melting and reshaping.
Vermithor seemed to enjoy this process. His membrane wings and scales gradually changed from bronze to molten gold under the backdrop of this continuous Dragonflame.
"Vermithor, stop."
Dragonzel felt the castle in his mind gradually take shape and immediately ordered Vermithor to stop breathing fire, but the mountain peak was still melting.
"Vermithor, ascend."
The Dragon flew to the highest point of the mountain peak, which was gradually taking the shape of a castle, and under Dragonzel's command, breathed out Dragonflame with a hint of silver again.
The mountain body at the bottom stopped melting, but the towers and city walls above became clearer under the baking of the Dragonflame. Finally, suitable hollows slowly melted out on the towers and city walls, allowing the Dragonflame to continue burning inside, outlining the shape Dragonzel desired.
Feeling his partner's weakness due to massive blood loss, Vermithor stopped breathing fire after burning out the interiors of three towers, turning his head towards the rider, as if asking if he wanted to rest.
I'm fine, Vermithor," Dragonzel smiled and bent down to pat Vermithor's body, letting him see his gradually ruddy face. "I am a Blood Witch, this blood is nothing to me, continue."
Vermithor gently shook his head, indicating that he was still not completely at ease.
"Don't worry," Dragonzel placed his hand on Vermithor, letting him feel the magical fluctuations within his body. "Don't underestimate your partner."
Vermithor felt Dragonzel's gradually recovering energy fluctuations for a while before continuing to breathe Dragonflame, burning the interiors of the remaining towers and the parts of the mountain that needed to be hollowed out.
The nine towers gradually took shape. Vermithor folded his wings, lowered his height to the mountainside, the location of the mountain body, and breathed out another stream of Dragonflame.
A large hole instantly exploded in the mountain body, and surging Dragonflame fiercely burned the interior of the mountain body, connecting it with the hollowed-out parts of the mountain.
This would be their future lair.
"This castle will be named Dragon Nest City," Looking at the huge cave that suddenly opened up, Dragonzel satisfactorily steered Vermithor to fly high into the sky, admiring the castle that was already taking shape.
"The rest of the work will be left to my craftsmen," Dragonzel said in his heart.
Sorry everyone, I've been applying medicine all day today, so I can only combine two chapters into one. The length of each chapter will increase after I recover, after all, I don't have much saved manuscript left. There will be burst updates later
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