FVN Chapter 488: Dragon Compass
Chapter 488: Dragon Compass
Chapter 488: Dragon Compass
Dragonstone
“Prince, thank you for seeing me off. Braavos will always be your loyal ally.”
On the beach, the messenger Baelus was moved to tears and bowed deeply.
Rhaegar stood with his hands behind his back, smiling faintly. “Say hello to the Sealord for me. I’ll visit Braavos when I have time.”
“It would be an honor,” Bael said, his voice filled with gratitude. After bidding farewell, he reluctantly boarded the ship.
Rhaegar watched him go, then turned his gaze to Dorys Dayne from Dorne, who stood solemnly nearby.
“Prince, Prince Qyle sends his regards,” Lys said, bowing respectfully.
With Sunspear under the control of the Iron Throne, young Qyle Martell harbored no rebellious thoughts, only a deep sense of fear and anxiety.
Rhaegar looked around, noting the presence of several Dorne nobles behind Dorys. He waved his hand dismissively.
“Prince.”
An elderly, disheveled Dragonkeeper stepped forward, holding a huge, milky-white sword in both hands.
Rhaegar took the sword, inspected it carefully, and said indifferently, “Return it to its rightful owner.” He flicked his fingers against the blade, handing it over with a hum.
Plop!
Dorys immediately dropped to one knee, his face flushed with excitement. “Prince, House Dayne will always be grateful for your kindness.”
“You will be well rewarded for your service.” Rhaegar looked down condescendingly, his eyes deep. “In the name of the Targaryen Regent, I appoint you as the Sword of Dawn and Lord of the Torentine.”
The Torentine is a major river in the Red Mountains that flows into the Summer Sea. House Dayne’s Starfall is located upstream of the Torentine.
“I will not fail you!” Dorys’ voice trembled as he took back the clan sword, Dawn, with both hands.
When news of Sunspear’s fall and his cousin’s death reached him, Dorys had surrendered on behalf of House Dayne. He knew that surrender was the only way to survive, especially with six dragons bombarding the city in turn. If they didn’t surrender, they would die. Moreover, the sword Dawn was in the hands of the Targaryens.
Rhaegar waved his hand. “Go now. Say hello to Qyle for me and ensure he accepts the Maester’s teachings well.”
A child should have a childhood of spoon-feeding.
Dorys, deeply moved, led the fleet away, carrying Dawn in his arms. The fleet gradually grew smaller as it sailed into the distance.
"Roar!"
The black dragon roared, circling the island as if inspecting its long-lost territory.
Rhaegar stood in the wind, looking at the two fleets, and rubbed the back of his fingers together.
The peace agreement has been reached. The Iron Throne and Braavos would both win, while the Triarchy and Dorne fall.
“Not bad. The Iron Bank is very generous with its loans,” Rhaegar mused, already planning how to put the money to good use.
As for repaying the loan? I borrowed the money on my own merits, why should I pay it back? What if Braavos comes to collect? Ask them how many fleets the Sealord has. If you don't believe me, try me.
"Roar!"
Cannibal sensed its rider’s emotions, its mouth opening in a hideous arc as it roared furiously.
Rhaegar clapped his hands and turned to walk back. His feet sank into the soft sand, with the blue sky and sea, and white clouds floating leisurely behind him. The arrogance of a man and a dragon relying on each other was palpable.
Entering the iron gate of Dragonstone, Rhaegar remembered his business and asked, “Are there any newly hatched young dragons on Dragonmount?”
He spoke in High Valyrian, which is short and to the point.Finnd new chapters on
The old dragonkeeper trailed behind him, his expression full of bitterness. “No, Dragonmount is very quiet.”
Rhaegar did not believe him and continued to ask, “What about Vermithor and Silverwing? Has it not laid new eggs?"
After Vhagar, Silverwing and Dreamfyre had always been fertile egg layers.
The old dragonkeeper shook his head. “Silverwing is sleeping. There are no eggs.” He leaned on a bamboo stick.
Suddenly, the Cannibal's green pupils flashed with murderous light, and it let out an excited roar. A trace of dragon saliva slipped from its mouth.
It remembered what the smell was.
It was the scent of prey!
The pair of jet-black dragon wings flapped, and the huge body immediately turned, diving deftly into the clouds before soaring high into the sky.
The target: Dragonmount.
...
It was getting late.
In the greenhouse, Rhaegar lay half-asleep. His handsome face was confused, his eyes half-open and half-closed, resembling a lost and broken teenager.
As expected, he fell asleep again.
Continuing from last night's dream, fragments of mist, waves, and young dragons kept flashing before him, as if compressed knowledge was being forced into his brain. Rhaegar passively endured it, and the images froze on the last frame: mist, a mountain, a young black dragon...
"Roar..."
The black dragon panicked, broke through the layers of fog, and plunged into Rhaegar's arms.
Yes, Rhaegar's arms.
Rhaegar's eyes widened as he hugged the baby dragon without hesitation.
Plop!
The force of the impact sent Rhaegar reeling. The pain made it hard for him to breathe. He fell to the ground, hitting his head hard.
Then he hit his head on the ground again.
A voice suddenly sounded.
“This exploration is complete. Please pick up the lost treasure.”
Rhaegar was startled awake by the sound and looked around in confusion.
He reached out and grabbed a hard dragon egg and a light purple halo.
Poof! The purple aura burst open, turning into a small purple light that entered his hand like cotton wool.
“Relic successfully picked up, testing...”
"The test was successful. It was determined to be an epic relic, a treasure of the Seer."
Rhaegar was slightly startled and hit his head hard to wake up.
“Epic relic, the Seer?” he muttered to himself and tried to summon the relic.
Vigilance of House Hightower that gave him the treasure of the Seer is still there. It can only be said that they are worthy of being top nobles with a thousand-year heritage.
Hum
Rhaegar sat up, and a stone compass appeared out of thin air. The compass was gray and white, with tiny cracks all over it, about the size of two adult palms. It was very round, with a dozen ferocious dragon patterns carved on the surface.
“Inscription?”
Rhaegar flipped through the compass and faintly saw the inscriptions in a circle. Unfortunately, the years had blurred the inscriptions. Rhaegar looked forward to seeing the font change on the system panel.
“The Dragon Compass, made by a bloodmage Seer, is useful to find dragons.”
“Find dragons?”
Rhaegar whispered, seeing the keywords “blood” and “dragon.”
Zila!
He cut his palm with a knife, and a drop of blood fell onto the compass.