Chapter 579: The Last Remnant of Old Valyria
The ghostly green fire fell upon the barren land, briefly illuminating the night sky as if it were day.
Pop!
A spear pierced a stone wall, revealing an irregular piece of ore with spidery red veins inside. Rhaegar twisted the ore in his hands, exclaiming in surprise, "A rare and special mineral."
He retrieved a gray, oval-shaped stone from his space necklace and held it up to the greenish Dragonfire. This stone, a rare mineral stored in the Daeryon family's space bracelet, paled in comparison to the one in Rhaegar's hand.
"Brother, this stone wall is no ordinary stone wall," Daeron said, his hands busy feeling around the rugged, scratched surface of the valley's outer wall. "It was made by a dragon."
Rhaegar's sharp eyes recognized the marks immediately. The grooves were caused by the sharp edges of dragon scales rubbing against the stone. The special ore was likely left behind by a wild dragon scratching itself here, mixed in with the scales.
Daeron smiled excitedly. "What is this ore used for? My brother has many special ores, but he never uses them for carving or forging."
"Blood Silver Stone, a substitute for blood sacrifice," Rhaegar explained patiently, holding up the blood-shot mineral. "If you forge magical items, it's an indispensable top-tier material. For engraving a spatial item, Blood Silver Stone has the best magic effect."
"Let's go." Rhaegar pocketed the ore and used his spear to lift the charred corpse of a Brown-bellied Wyvern at his feet. The dragon's roar echoed through the night, banishing any remnants of sleepiness from the brothers. They had stumbled upon a new clue in the valley.
"Roar..."
Before they could take two steps, a thunderous dragon roar exploded in their ears. Rhaegar, startled, looked up immediately.
Hoo!
Above the valley, the Cannibal hovered in circles, its cold green pupils indifferent, with deep green fire surging in its throat.
"Where is Tessarion? Hurry!" Rhaegar's face paled, and he sprinted toward the valley's edge. The bond between man and dragon was strong; he sensed the bloodthirsty vigilance in the Cannibal's growl.
"I don't know," Daeron replied, stunned, instinctively following his brother. Tessarion was a proud dragon who often refused food from the Dragonkeepers, preferring to hunt on its own.
"Roar!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, a familiar shrill roar pierced the night. The dark sky was shrouded in thick clouds as a cobalt blue dragon burst through, its magnificent wings ablaze with blue flames, screaming in panic.
"Tessarion!" Daeron was dumbfounded, his heart aching at the sight of the injured dragon.
"Roar..."
Suddenly, a thunderous roar echoed through the heavens, accompanied by a blinding flash of lightning. A dragon's blood-red mouth tore through the thick clouds.
Drizzle...
The rain fell heavily, kicking up a cloud of dust. Rhaegar looked up, and with the aid of the silver lightning, he could see the hideous dragon's head, scarred and menacing.
"Roar!"
The dragon's head reared back, its narrow pupils glowing with rage, and it spat out a torrent of orange and green Dragonfire.
Roar!
Tessarion let out a terrified cry, catching sight of the approaching fiery dragonfire, feeling the specter of death looming.
'No!' Daeron cried out in alarm.
Crack!
The cold rain slapped his face, and the blinding lightning tore through the sky. Rhaegar closed his eyes gently, feeling an uncanny connection with the dragon.
Roar!
In an instant, a pair of wings, dark as death, unfurled in the night sky. The black dragon opened its maw wide and descended from the sky.
Boom!
The dark green Dragonfire tore through the rain, colliding with the wild dragon's fiery breath. The clash of Dragonfire created a brilliant explosion of dark green and blue, as if trying to paint the entire sky.
Rhaegar propped himself up on one arm, gritting his teeth in pain. As he looked around, the sky was dark as ink, and the earth had turned into a muddy swamp, swirling with vapors.
'It hurts so much,' Rhaegar thought, his body racked with pain. He shook his head vigorously, trying to regain consciousness. He despised pain. A wound of this magnitude could easily kill him.
"Roar..."
A low dragon roar reached his ears, accompanied by the pungent, fishy smell of dragon blood. Rhaegar opened his eyes dazedly, seeing the dark green dragon lying before him like a fallen mountain, its body turned over and covered in mud and sewage.
"It fell?"
He tilted his head, cautiously reaching out.
"Sighing..."
The wild dragon's eyes snapped open, its vertical pupils narrowing as its head and jaws pushed against the ground. It floundered and struggled in the mud.
Rhaegar's senses sharpened instantly. He glanced at the dragon whip in his hand, a sudden idea sparking in his mind. As if possessed, he moved forward, his eyes darkening with intent.
Crack!
A bolt of lightning flashed, illuminating half the vast landscape. The wild dragon let out a high-pitched roar, its body arching mightily as the shoulder blades connecting to its wings cracked with a loud snap.
In that instant, Rhaegar saw nothing but an insurmountable wall before him—an immense beast towering at least 300 feet high.
"Roar!"
The wild dragon, caked in mud and water, shook off the filth. It began to run, trying to take flight. Each stride was like an earthquake, the ground quaking with its every step. Trees toppled in its wake, branches and leaves scattered by its powerful wings as it rose awkwardly into the air.
Rhaegar stood stunned, never having witnessed such a fierce dragon. But there was more to come.
"What is that?"
Rhaegar's eyes narrowed as he stared at the long, dangling strips hanging from either side of the dragon's neck. At first glance, they could be mistaken for vines or branches, but Rhaegar saw them clearly.
His pupils constricted. Reflected in his eyes was a tangled mass of rope. Even in its disheveled state, the material was unmistakable to him. Rhaegar, who had spent his childhood in the Dragonpit, recognized it instantly.
It was a special rope used to secure a saddle, with the fallen part being a woven ladder for climbing. The material was made from a unique plant core, tanned with a special hemp oil, an ancient Valyrian craft. It was not only strong and durable but also fireproof.
Rhaegar's breathing quickened, and he exclaimed in shock, "The dragon had a master!"
The intact saddle confirmed it—there had definitely been a rider. This was no wild dragon, but one that had lost its rider, once the mount of a Dragonlord.
"Roar!"
At that moment, the Cannibal crashed into the mud, its powerful chest carving a deep furrow in the earth. A low growl rumbled from its throat as its head plunged into the murky water, churning it violently.
In the next moment, the Cannibal's pupils dilated, its green eyes bloodshot and filled with rage. They were the eyes of a demon crawling out of hell.
"Fly, Cannibal!"
Rhaegar scrambled up the dragon's back using his hands and feet.
"Roar..."
The Cannibal's mouth cracked open slightly, its green eyes locked onto the wild dragon struggling to stay aloft, thick saliva dripping from its jaws. The wild dragon had more experience in battle, but its opponent's attack was devious, almost blinding it. This was no ordinary dragon, and the method of attack was unlike anything the wild dragon had faced before.
Rhaegar lay flat against the dragon's saddle, growling, "Leave it, hurry!"
The Cannibal glanced back, sensing the rider's determination. Its mouth began to froth with furious saliva.
With a powerful leap, its wings crushed the trees in its path, and its tail whipped around as it soared high and fast into the sky.
"Roar!"
Cannibal roared, closing the distance to the wild dragon, which was flying erratically above. It reached out with its maw, spitting saliva into the abyss below.