Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire.

Chapter 312: Dragon Dream and Luring the Enemy

"No one is more arrogant than the Citadel." - Dr. Marwyn
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The tired throne, the curled iron sheet, the thorns forged from the sword of the Seven Kingdoms took off their hideous veils and became limp.

Curled up under the throne is also a hunchbacked king.

In the huge throne room, patterns of blood and fire were crawling on the ground.

The Targaryen red dragon was obscured by the solid pillars of the throne room, its projected shadow covering its surface, looming, facing the tired throne and the hunched king.

"Who are you?" Attis found himself in the shadow behind a pillar. He opened his mouth involuntarily, as if trying to break free from the darkness. He stared at the shining Iron Throne, then lowered his eyes and spoke to the hunched king.

No one spoke.

The hunched king raised his face, pale and weak.

He was wearing a black suit and had a short beard that was neither thick nor thin. In the light, it looked like his chin was covered with a layer of uncured silver paint, which seemed to be in danger of falling off.

A ghost howled in the throne room: "King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, Aegon III of House Targaryen!"

"Aegon the Dragonbane?" Attis blurted out. The portrait in the book looked exactly like the person in front of him, as if the Children of the Forest were shaking hands and swearing an oath with him. History was shining into reality, and the ballads and epics sung by the bards became the people and things in front of him.

Behind the Iron Throne, a dragon lay there with its body taking up most of the wall. Its body was covered with wounds left by crossbow bombardment, and it was dying.

Blue body and silver wings, Attis remembered the description in the picture album.

"Storm," Artis said. "Is that your majesty's dragon?" Even though the Targaryens were gone, he still addressed Aegon III as king.

Aegon III lowered his head and stared at him.

After staring for a long time, Attis realized that he was looking behind him, as if no one saw him standing there.

He turned his head and saw a green dragon, crying weakly, with its deformed, seemingly underdeveloped wings curled up there, protecting five dragon eggs.

"The last dragon." Attis knew it, the last dragon that died a century ago.

"Your Majesty," the Grand Maester bowed, and Attis watched him walk into the throne room, "The magician you hired from the East Continent has arrived."

"Hatch my dragon," said Aegon III. "They shall decide their reward."

Red monk, Qartheen wizard, old priest sitting on a giant turtle
"Let us see, respected King of Westeros." The wizard spoke first, his blue lips seemed to be filled with candy.

Aegon looked at him suspiciously, then stood up and said, "Please do as you please."

As the few people were communicating, Attis felt that the air around him was squeezing him, making it difficult for him to breathe.

The life of the last dragon and Aegon's "Storm Cloud" was rapidly exhausted, and time seemed to be turning over before their eyes. Only Aegon and several oriental "magicians" around him showed no signs of the passage of time on their faces.

The dragon was reduced to a skeleton with a thin skin wrapped around its body as the red monk, the wizard and the old priest looked down and observed.

"That's it," the wizard said.

"What is finished?" Aegon asked.

The red-robed monk sat down on the ground and looked up at the stove in the corner of the throne room.

"No," the red-robed monk said sadly, "I still can't see anything."

The old priest turned around and saw the giant turtle looking tired but smiling as if saying goodbye.

"No chance, old friend." The old pastor sighed alone and shook his head continuously.

"The magic is gone," the wizard said, standing there in a daze. "We can no longer communicate. All that's left is..."

"What can't be communicated?" the Grand Maester asked. The red-robed monk looked at the flames and said, "It is impossible to communicate with the true God."

"What the tradition says is correct. It's like a tide, rising and falling. No one can outrun time, not even a dragon."

The Grand Secretary looked at this group of oriental "magicians" who were pretending to be good in front of the king, and his heart was full of scorn. He looked down at the dragon skeletons and the dragon eggs that were about to become fossils.

What tides, what time? The Citadel has studied dragons for such a long time, is it possible that its knowledge of dragons is not as good as that of these strangers who are probably seeing a dragon for the first time in their lives?

"Your Majesty," the red-robed monk stood up and took a last sad look at the bonfire, "I'm afraid that dragons won't be hatched within a hundred years."

Aegon III did not respond. He sat silently on the Iron Throne, watching these people talking nonsense. He was used to seeing liar wizards who only knew some magic tricks. He waved his hand and said, "Forget it, you can leave now."

The three priests looked at each other, hostile to each other, but with a helpless acceptance of their fate. They bowed and left the throne room together.

The Grand Maester watched their backs disappear in front of the door, turned around, saw the lonely figure of Aegon III, just nodded slightly, and left the throne room.

Artis watched as Aegon III's body sank into the Iron Throne, sinking deeper and deeper into flesh and blood until it was swallowed up by the throne.

The history of the Targaryen dynasty began to turn from then on, with one king after another, Daeron the Young Dragon, Baelor "blessed by the Gods", Aegon IV, the kings in the Blackfyre Rebellion, until the Mad King was pierced through the back by the Kingslayer's sword. The deeds of the dragon riders became fairy tales to lull children who loved adventure stories to sleep, and the Targaryens gradually became mediocre.

Rise again from mediocrity.

He saw the Targaryen girl riding on a black dragon.

Artis hit the nail on the head, "Daenerys Targaryen."

Daenerys flew over the city, heading west, farther and farther away.
The picture gradually blurred, and Attis woke up in the embers of the fire.

The blue dragon opened its eyes and tilted its head to look at him.

Attis moved its head away and sat up.

Myrcella with eyes full of concern, the red-robed woman who looked at him and the dragon with admiration, Moqorro who was chewing bread nearby, Dr. Marwyn who was wearing a gray robe and had a look of longing on his face, Steward Simon who couldn't help joining in the fun out of curiosity, and a group of Children of the Forest who were surrounding them.

"What did you see?" Melisandre asked, stepping forward.

Artis coughed violently, stood up, looked at the small blue dragon, and recalled the black dragon Daenerys rode.

There are too many threats and the current situation is too complicated, so he needs to react quickly.

"Let the shipyards in Seagulltown and King's Landing start working at full capacity. At the same time, let the blacksmiths supervise the production of armor and weapons. Contact the Tully family and the Rowan family for me. In addition to the horses from the Valley, I also need to purchase the tall horses from the River Reach to arm the Canyon Knights."

"Send out scout cavalry to continue to suppress the bandits still roaming the riverlands. Either they surrender or they will be killed. Harold Hatton, I need you to command this for me. I will give you 500 men."

He looked at the Steward of Harrenhal, "I need you, Simon, to settle the cooks and craftsmen of the castle, harvest the grain as soon as possible, and help as well. The valley knights of the Green Fork are not good at managing the fields."

"As for the North, Maester Marwyn, please tell Eddard Stark that I can tolerate a queen without territory tossing around in the North, but I will fulfill my previous promises one by one, and I hope he will keep his promise." Artis paused and added, "I don't know how Eddard will refuse. Send him another letter to tell them the position of the nobles in the borderlands and make appropriate threats, saying that the threat from the Ironmen is minimal and cannot penetrate deep into the interior. At most, it is just a skin disease. I will settle accounts with the nobles in the Stormlands who betrayed the Iron Throne one by one, and warn them to make a decision as soon as possible."

And there are wildfires, Attis thought, the efficiency of the Golden Eagle is reassuring, this batch of wildfires needs to continue to be produced, and currently only King's Landing has the conditions to produce them, and they will still stay in King's Landing. Before stable transportation technology appears, they will only stay in King's Landing, waiting for the arrival of the sea monster.

"Mobilize troops," Artis said in a deep voice, "Using the unfavorable economy as an excuse, cut half of the capital's garrison and let them find their own way out. Perhaps heading north to Harrenhal is one of their options. Send orders to the East Continent and spread the news. We lack ships and gold dragons. There is nothing we can do. The shipyards in Seagulltown and King's Landing are working at full capacity to build ships to prepare for the arrival."

Everyone looked at each other, no one knew what Attis was thinking. Butler Simon and Dr. Marwyn worked together to write down all the Prime Minister's orders.

"Send a letter to Highgarden at the same time, promising to help them fight Euron in the name of the Hand," Artis said, "and also send a letter to Hightower, asking them to stay calm and strengthen the city's defenses."

Attis did not believe that the Ironborn would capture Oldtown. He preferred to believe that the Reach, without its navy, would be pinned down like a nail by Euron. He was sure that Euron would send longships to harass the Reach's trade routes using the Shield Islands and the Arbor as bases, and create momentum to make the people of the Reach mistakenly believe that the Ironborn were going to attack Oldtown.

Attis weighed his judgment, hoping it wouldn't be wrong.

An empty King's Landing, a weak king
This is enough to be called temptation.

(End of this chapter)