Ice and Fire: Reign of the Dragon.

Chapter 453: Seriously Injured
The dust and smoke from the falling Golden King obscured Jonial's vision.

When Jonil landed on the city wall, Ragnaros had already been untied from his saddle. The Golden King's blood had corroded steaming holes in the snow, and the Night's Watch had to use thick cloths to approach the wounded dragon.

Jonial immediately untied the saddle straps, jumped off the dragon, and stumbled towards the Golden King, his boots crunching on the blood-stained snow. Reigen's right leg was twisted at an abnormal angle, but what horrified Jonial was the wound on his chest, where a fragment of the ice crystal spear was still embedded, and the surrounding skin had turned an eerie blue.

"You idiot!" Lei Geng still had the strength to curse, though his voice was so weak it was almost inaudible. "Who told you to rush ahead like that?"

Jonial wanted to argue, but found his hands trembling violently. He looked down at his body and realized that his exposed skin had been frostbitten by the ice dragon's blood, turning an unhealthy bluish-white.

In the distance, the surviving dragon riders landed one after another. But Jonial's gaze could not leave the Golden King, the proud golden dragon now only able to gasp in agony, each breath laced with blood. Its left wing was almost completely torn apart, the wing bone exposed like a broken mast.

"Father!"

As soon as Lusris jumped off Moondance's back, he rushed to his father's side. He also had many more ice-blue marks on his body, but he was not as badly injured as Joniel. He did not face the ice dragon directly, but focused on the Ice Summoners and Night Knights. Dan followed closely behind, and the last to land was the already weakened Ray.

"Alright, Uncle, you should go and rest first," Dan said, but Ray interrupted him before he could finish.

“He won’t die anytime soon. What about Meka?” Ray looked around. He rested nearby for a while before returning to Black Castle, and didn’t witness the sheep thief’s fall.

"Prince Mecca is dead." Dan took a deep breath. "Fortunately, the sheep thief crashed on the south side of the Great Wall."

Ray fell silent.

“Their main force didn’t even come,” Jonnie suddenly said seriously.

The dragon knights' eyes widened slightly, then a look of understanding flashed across their faces. They all simultaneously looked north.

Beyond the Wall lay the shattered remains of wights, the severed limbs of ice spiders stuck in the snow like withered branches, and the skeletons of several wight mammoths still burned, emitting the stench of rotting flesh and charred bones. But those eerie blue eyes... those truly terrifying White Walker commanders... were nowhere to be seen.

Melisandre's red robes fluttered without wind, and rubies glittered around her neck: "The flames have shown me illusions, Your Highness Ray. In the flames, shadows gnawed at the roots. At first, I thought it was referring to those believers, but now it seems it's referring to something else entirely."

A commotion arose from the crowd. A blood-soaked ranger stumbled in: "Ghost Forest! They...they're digging!"

Dennis Mellist grabbed him and said, “Slow down, brother.”

“Not ghouls!” The ranger’s teeth chattered. At this time of year, any ranger who dared to remain outside was a warrior, but even the bravest person’s courage would become fragile when faced with something unknown to mortals. “It’s those knights in ice armor and those ice-blue giants. They’re digging something, and performing a ritual. I saw blood-soaked people, and babies.”

Dan jumped to his feet. He was now certain that today's attack was nothing but bait; the real White Walkers were elsewhere dismantling the magical barrier of the Wall. Those "high-ranking White Walkers" and ice dragons that had been killed were likely just discarded pawns.

In the heyday of the Song of Ice, those ice dragons may not have been as precious as they imagined.

"Send out the ravens immediately!" he roared. "Notify Longnight Keep to inspect the Great Ice Tunnel and all magical imprints."

That night, Joniel, Dan, and Lusris climbed the city walls. The cold wind brushed against the back of their necks like the fingertips of the dead.

In the shadows where the moonlight couldn't reach, ice crystals were spreading across the city wall at a visible speed. Joniel bent down to touch them, and a chill instantly seeped into his bones. This wasn't ordinary frost; it was some kind of ancient rune, seeping into the ice-forged high walls with every breath.

"They are indeed destroying the magic of the Great Wall."

Johnny confirmed this.

In the distance, a surviving ice dragon hovered among the clouds, its deep blue vertical pupils reflecting the outline of the Great Wall. It did not attack, but merely observed, like a chess player examining a game board. When the second wave of dragon riders arrived at Black Castle, the Great Wall was already much colder than usual, and even though the dragons no longer resisted flying out of the Great Wall, they found it difficult to perch on its walls.

Of course, that's not the most urgent matter.

Demion Vareses leaped from Shayel's back, the crimson dragon growling as it spewed poisonous smoke to cleanse the wounded Golden King. Shayel's poisonous smoke swirled around the Golden King's wounds, hissing softly, melting the stubborn ice crystals. Demion knelt beside the dragon, his fingertips dipped in a secret medicine, slowly applying it to the frost-covered wound that nearly tore apart the dragon's wing. With each touch, the Golden King's jagged scales trembled slightly, and a deep dragon roar echoed in its chest, as if suppressing pain.

“Bear with it, buddy,” Demion said in a low voice, his tone unusually gentle. “You’re not at the point where you’re hanging on the wall yet.”

Jonial stood to the side, watching with some nervousness as Demion treated the Golden King, the proud dragon now extremely weak. Its scales no longer shimmered, its breathing was heavy like a broken bellows, and its molten gold-like dragon eyes were half-closed, as if they might go out at any moment.

"Can he be saved?" Lei Geng's voice was hoarse. His injuries weren't too serious, and with Lei's guidance, they were quickly treated.

Demion didn't answer immediately. He drew his Valyrian steel longsword and gently parted the rotting flesh at the edge of the wound, revealing the muscle and tendons corroded by ice magic beneath. The dark purple toxin spread like a spiderweb, each heartbeat expanding the area of ​​decay.

“Three months,” Demion finally said, mixing the secret medicine into a vial of dark red potion. “It can’t fly, can’t fight, can’t even breathe fire, but it will survive.”

The moment the potion touched the wound, the Golden King abruptly raised its head and let out a deafening roar. Reigen immediately stepped forward, placing his palm on the side of the dragon's face and his forehead against its scales.

“Quiet, old friend,” he whispered. “I’m here.”

The dragon gradually calmed down, its heavy breathing brushing against Ragen's silver hair.

Not far away, Elena Targaryen watched her husband quietly. Sunlight crept in, its gentle rays brushing against the Golden King's wound as his long neck drooped.

“It remembers.” Irena walked to Regen’s side and clasped his slender fingers with his. “Back on Dragonstone, it was the Golden King who taught the sunlight how to control the flames.”

Ray's Adam's apple bobbed. He remembered that day when young Sunlight first tried to breathe fire, but almost burned its own wings. It was the Golden King who gently steadyed it with his tail, like a patient mentor.

“We’re too late,” King Reg I’s voice came from behind. Beneath his black iron crown, his gaze fell on the eastern section of the Wall, where frost was spreading at a visible pace, and ancient runes shimmered beneath the ice like some living thing breathing.

“It’s not too late.” Aslan patted the longsword at his waist, the silver dragon and laurel leaf emblem on the scabbard stained with blood and ice shards. “As long as the Wall stands, as long as the dragons stand—”

He didn't finish his sentence.

The Golden King suddenly raised his head, his dragon eyes narrowing as he gazed at the northern night sky. A beam of eerie blue light shot into the sky from the direction of Icemark Bay, accompanied by the roar of glaciers shattering.

Demion's expression changed instantly: "They're accelerating the destruction of magical nodes!"

Reigen's hand remained on the Golden King's scales, feeling the dragon's faint yet firm heartbeat.

“Then let’s fight,” he said softly, his gaze sweeping over each of the dragon knights present, “just like we’ve always done.”

Irene's fingers intertwined tightly with his, and the sunlight emitted a clear, melodious dragon's roar, as if echoing this vow.

Behind them, the Golden King struggled to stand up. Even if it could no longer fly, it wanted to use its body to shield its companions from the first wave of cold.

(End of this chapter)