Game of Thrones: Dance of the Dragons

"You really think you can hurt me twice with the same trick?"

Beller remained calm and, with his small and agile body, easily stepped aside, dodging the attack from the shadowy figure.

"Protect the prince!"

The Dragon Guards reacted quickly, wielding specially made long sticks and surrounding the Prince from all sides. Some of the stronger Dragon Guards attacked from the left and right, keeping a watchful eye on the dark figure in front of them.

The shadowy figure tilted its head, mimicking the way a human would look at Baylor, as if a sense of resentment was mixed in.

But failure is failure.

At that moment, the shadowy figure suddenly began to collapse, exploding like a water balloon and scattering across various corners of the dragon's lair.

Baylor knew that such assassination magic could not last long, especially if it was used twice in a row, as it would take a huge toll on the wizard's lifespan and physical health.

"You all go to the hidden corners near the dragon's lair and search them thoroughly. Don't let a single rat escape!"

"Yes!" The dragon guard nodded respectfully.

"No need to trouble yourself, nephew, I've brought the person over for you."

In the cave on the right, Damon licked his slightly chapped lips, and with his other hand, as if helping the dragon guards clean the dragon's lair, he forcibly dragged the witch over and threw her in front of Baylor.

At this moment, the witch's right hand was bent into a hook, the tendons in both feet were severed, and her face was covered with foul-smelling dragon dung and dust.

"I never expected that the person who came to save me would be my good uncle. Should I thank you in person?" Baylor placed his hands in front of his lower abdomen, looking at Damon with indifference and vigilance.

"No need. If my brother hadn't said that the Targaryen family shares the same bloodline, I wouldn't have wanted to save you at all." Speaking the truth is one of the few good qualities Damon possesses.

Baylor ignored him, instead drawing his dragon horn dagger and crouching down in front of the witch.

Before he could even speak, the witch, like a cheap maggot, crawled to Baylor's feet and threatened, "Prince Baylor, you cannot kill me! I come from the Land of Shadows, an emissary sent by the Lord of Light!"

"Kill me, and you will not only be punished by the Lord of Light, but also face retribution from the Land of Shadows!"

"Punishment? Revenge?"

"If you want to use this to blackmail me, you have to live, don't you?"

Without hesitation, Baylor took out the dragon horn dagger and, under the watchful eyes of all the dragon guards and Damon, skillfully severed the tendons in her other hand.

"Ahhhhh!"

"You dare harm the messenger of the Lord of Light! The Lord of Light will curse you, and the Land of Shadows will surely retaliate!"

The agonizing screams echoed throughout the entire dragon's lair in an instant.

The prince's decisiveness surprised all the dragon guards, and some of the newly joined young men were so frightened that they could barely hold their weapons.

"hehe."

"So, we're the same kind of people after all, nephew."

Damon looked at Baylor with admiration, his eyes filled with undisguised excitement.

According to legend, when a Targaryen was born, the heavens would toss a coin to determine whether he would become a wise ruler or a complete madman.

It now seems that Baylor's coin must be the tailspin. And it's the tailspin that appears cold on the surface but is actually extremely repressed and has a dark side!

"Stop talking nonsense and drag her outside." Baelor suddenly switched to Higher Valyrian and spoke to his good uncle.

"Shouldn't we just kill her?"

"Of course, if you feel that the little dagger you have isn't enough to kill in one hit, I don't mind lending you the Dark Sisters, provided you can lift them," Damon replied to Baylor in Valyrian.

"No, beheading alone is not enough to kill the witch from the land of shadows."

"I read in a book in the old town that the King of Light among the Seven Gods has the power of resurrection. As long as the believer's body is still intact, there is a chance of resurrection."

As Beller explained in Valyrian, he picked up the rope handed to him by the dragon guard and bound the witch into a wriggling maggot.

"Do you believe the Lord of Light is real?"

Damon never believed in the so-called Seven Gods, nor did he believe that any curse would befall him.

In his view, it was nothing more than a means for the Church of the Seven Gods to amass wealth and control the ignorant masses.

"But how do we explain that dark figure?"

"Uncle, I dislike the Seven Gods even more than you do, but I don't want to create trouble for myself."

"Either don't do it at all, or do it thoroughly and completely."

Baylor's voice was soft and calm.

It's like eating bread in King's Landing in the morning, with sweet and sour jam, and chatting with family about what's been going on lately.

Damon's lips curled into a slight smile. He realized he was starting to like Baylor.

Without further ado, the uncle and nephew carried the witch to the outside of the dragon's lair and gathered a certain amount of wood to surround her.

"You came up with the plan, so naturally you're the one who has to finish it." Damon handed the torch to Baylor.

Baylor did not refuse, and took the torch, lighting the dry grass and wood beside him one by one.

The fire was enormous, like an angry Vormisor spewing dragon flames, clinging to every part of the witch's body.

"Ha ha ha, foolish Targaryen, you will never hear my wail!"

"I am a follower of the King of Light. As long as my faith lives, I can be resurrected!" The witch laughed confidently.

As Beller held the flame, a scene seemed to flash before his eyes.

A girl, a witch, and three petrified dragon eggs.

"No, I will, but what I want is your life," the girl said earnestly, lighting the cremation pyre with a torch.

The elder knight beside him spoke up, "Whenever a knight dies, when their body is cremated under the heavens, Khal will ride a blazing steed, leaping out and transforming into a star in the sky."

After saying that, the baron raised his hand and pointed eastward.

The girl looked in the direction he pointed, and in the eastern sky, there was a red comet, the red of blood, the red of fire, trailing the tail of a dragon.

Just then, a surge of heat rose from the flames and rushed toward Baylor, like a sudden hurricane that instantly engulfed him.

The flames were intense and enormous, yet not scalding hot, as warm as a mother's embrace.

The witch in the flames sang the blessing of the King of Light.

Then, she suddenly gasped for breath.

Once, twice...

Then, the singing turned into wailing, filled with unbearable pain.

Damon wanted to rush in, but the temperature of the flames was too high. Even the Targaryen bloodline, which is naturally fire-resistant, would find it difficult to endure the high temperature in the flames.

The prince, engulfed in flames, remained motionless as if he felt no pain.

"Look, a comet!"

"It's a red comet!" a young dragon guard suddenly exclaimed, pointing to the sky.

Damon looked in the direction they were pointing and saw one red comet after another slowly descending from the west to the east.

"Roar—"

A sudden dragon roar reached his ears, and the Glutton flew overhead, its blood dripping from beneath his dragon head and merging into the blazing flames.

Then, it landed steadily directly in front of Baylor, watching the flames continue to rise.

It was at this moment that Belle, who was completely covered in flames, moved.

He tilted his head slightly, his purple eyes covered by crimson flames, gazing at Damon Targaryen behind him.

At that moment, Damon stared in surprise, recalling a long-standing legend in his family.

"A true dragon fears no fire."