Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire

The heart tree has been scorched, but the face with weeping eyes can still be seen clearly, but it is covered with a layer of black ash. The tangled tree roots have been completely burned, and most of them have turned into ashes, covering the uneven ground of the godswood with a thick layer of black debris.

The children of the forest sat around the heart tree, chanting a language that was difficult for humans to understand. Attis only knew from ancient books that the language spoken by some natural races such as the children of the forest was the original language. From the age, this roughly refers to the original language. language. The children of the forest use this language to sing the praises of the earth and nature, and now, for example, in the original language, they sing the praises of the heart tree and the old gods.

However, the ravens kept in the cage of Steward Simon stopped their throats, stared at the heart tree with their scarlet eyes, and listened attentively.

Simon watched his raven hesitantly, and from time to time he glanced suspiciously at the prayers of the Son of the Forest, and said nonchalantly: "In ancient times, bachelors left records, saying that ravens can understand and even speak. The original language, could it be true? The current people are weird."

Simon's plump body shook, and his face was even smeared with rouge powder imported from Saltworks Town. Attis felt more and more that he looked like an old friend who once used his intricate spy network to scorn King's Landing.

The dragon grinned and roared, fluttering its thin dragon wings in the air twice, and sprayed out a mouthful of dragon flames. This flame was entirely orange, with gold threads on the edges, and blue silhouettes in it, like extremely thin thunder and lightning. In the sunshine, a puff of gray smoke rises from the ground, covering the raw mutton.

For a moment, the aroma of burning raw meat and charcoal filled the godswood garden.

The blue dragon opened its fangs and sharp mouth, tore into the thrown mutton, feasted on it, and neighed from time to time.

As if feeling Attis inspecting it from the side, the blue dragon bared his teeth and looked at his food, his pupils rolled in his eye sockets, closing and opening, aiming at himself step by step.

"That's weird," Simon said awkwardly, looking up at the sky. "I thought it would fly away."

Attis looked at the dragon's body shape. It was like a kitten, curled up and could be held with one hand. "There is a high probability," he smiled, "this dragon can't fly."

"This castle has magic power," Melisandre said with a solemn tone when she came behind her at some point, "There are many structures in the city wall and there are even a lot of dragon crystals. It's really hard to imagine whose advice the original King Heron took. Built this magnificent castle.”

"Weirdos like you?" Simon shrugged, sipped the warm tea wrapped in his hand, and joked.

Melisandre did not refute, "I think you are right, Lord Simon."

Suddenly the awkward expression returned to Simon's face. He rubbed his hands and pulled out a bunch of hair from his forehead, "I remembered that I still have work to do. I'll leave first. Ahem, Your Majesty the Duke. I'll leave first. "

"What kind of blood magic can establish a connection between dragons and humans?" Attis asked after Simon walked away.

Melisandre could only answer with a well-known legend: "The Valyrian people claimed to have discovered dragons from the Fourteen Fire Peaks and mastered the method of controlling dragons. They did not mention a word about how to control dragons. How to connect your bloodline with these beasts?" She looked at the blue dragon tearing out shreds of mutton one after another, watching it plunge into the burnt wool, blinking, and chose to continue: "Asshai people But it is said that dragons come from the land of shadows, and that a vanished people taught the magic of dragon control to the Valyrian people."

"I don't know how many years ago, thousands of years ago? Tens of thousands of years? In short, in the legend of Yashai, there was a time when the world was full of dragons, wild dragons, tame dragons, and living hot dragon eggs. , everywhere.”

Attis shook his head, "Legends are still legends after all."

"After witnessing all this," Melisandre smiled, "Do you still believe that legends are legends after all?"

Attis responded with silence.

After a long time, Attis finally spoke: "I don't know when the long night will come, but seeing that the weather is getting colder, I'm afraid it will be this winter."

"If this is the case," Attis said, "a young dragon is not enough. You need to let it grow up quickly." He was silent for a moment after saying this, and the topic changed: "If a grown dragon can really grow into a As big as the legendary Black Death, if you don't know how to control a dragon." His mind flashed back to the tragedies caused by dragon battles in the past centuries of the Targaryen Dynasty, "Then I have worked hard to hatch it. Not a savior, but a disaster.”

"Sir!" Simon's voice came from a distance again, "Sir, we have a guest here, it's a doctor, it's a doctor!"

Attis frowned, walked over quickly, and told An Gai who was beside him, "Doctor of the city? Go quickly and get the duke's robe."

"Dr. Marwyn, 'Magic' Marwyn!"

Hearing the name, Attis's eyes flashed with astonishment, but he didn't think much and walked quickly towards the Hundred Furnaces Hall.

The ground was littered with corpses and blood.

Two dragons in the sky were playing in the blood, picking up corpses one after another. People with milky white skin, dark skinned people from the Midsummer Islands, and even Yidi people thousands of miles away were playing with fire in the air. The game of human body, swallowed in a few mouthfuls, bloodthirsty and terrifying.

Victarion stared at the dragons in the sky with satisfaction. These two dragons are still small now, but they will grow very quickly. Sooner or later, they will become the dragons ridden by Aegon the Conqueror.

When the time comes, he will be the new conqueror, ride on the dragon, conquer the seven kingdoms, entrust land to his crew, expand the territory for the iron people, drive the poor faith of the seven gods and the old gods out of the continent, and let Everyone worships Yizhen, the drowned god of the Aral Sea and rocks!

He picked up the iron ax and walked unsteadily into the cabin and into the dark and damp corridor. With every step he took, water spiders quickly crawled away on the floor, like slave soldiers who had just escaped.

Victarion also wanted to select slaves. He ordered the crew to open the bolt of the prison door and examine the civilians or slaves plucked from everywhere huddled in the prison.

Lysians, Yunkishites, Summer Isles people, and even a half-blood of Valyria and Qarth.

"You, you, you," Victarion chose three people to be the unlucky ones first, to prevent someone from being unable to withstand the force and collapse, and forcing the next one to continue, "Come out and get to the deck."

Ironborn immediately went up and pulled out the three people he picked.

The floor was very slippery, and the three of them had lost the will to resist. They were dragged limply to the deck by the iron type.

The dragon's horn sat there quietly, with black light flashing and a twisted body. It was six feet long, equivalent to the size of a tall iron type, with red and gold stripes and Valyrian black steel markings covering the surface of the horn. Ketalion guessed it was an odd rune.

Euron told himself that the ancient dragon kings used this method to bind dragons, especially wild dragons that could not be controlled by themselves. Tamed dragons can be controlled with the identity of the owner and the blood in their body, but unruly wild dragons can only be controlled with the dragon's horn.

The dragon horn in front of me is called "Dragonbinder", and it is just one of the many dragon horns of the Valyrian nobles.

"Blow it and you will be free," Victarion said to the slave, looking at the dragon in the sky.

A trace of disbelief flashed in the slave's eyes, and he looked blankly at the unsmiling Ironborn around him. Watching them move away from the horn, he stepped forward with some confusion, held the horn with both hands, opened his mouth, and blew.

Victarion's pupils immediately opened, and thousands of dead souls were biting at his ears, about to puncture his eardrums and tear off his earlobes. Blood seemed to flow all over his face, and his whole body trembled, as if there was a fire. The innards are roasting from the inside out and the skin is steaming.

"Ahhhhhhhh!!!"

The slave's body was exuding steam, and the runes of the Dragon's Horn emitted white light, quickly covering the sky above the Invincible Ironborn battleship, covering the blue, leaving only a vast white wilderness covering everyone's heads.

"Ooooooo!~" The dragon roared and struggled, its wings waving, waving, and waving again and again without obeying the command.

"Stop!" Victarion stretched out his hand, his eyes covered with bloodshot eyes, his palm seemed to have suddenly lost a piece of flesh, veins and bones popped out, and he shouted loudly.

No one has blown the dragon's horn for a long time, but the lingering sound echoes in the ears, and the white light still shines.

Viserion roared a few times, flapped his wings, and fell to the ground, getting closer and closer to the ground, flying towards the coast without control.

Lei Ge fluttered a few times, fell heavily to the ground, and fell into the pile of corpses that had just been piled up by the Dragon Queen's soldiers to be burned. The corpses fell off to the ground like gravel on a hill.

Jorah Mormont in the distance seemed to have foreseen something, and immediately organized soldiers to control Rhaegal who landed on the ground, and the Unsullied rushed over pushing a two-wheeled truck.

"What a pity." Victarion squinted his eyes and looked at the thousands of Dragon Queen soldiers gathered on the coast. However, his longships were scattered throughout Slaver's Bay, with a crew of only a hundred people. Many plunderers were still on the shore wanting to Search for loot.

Viserion fluttered a few times and landed on the deck under the Dragon's Horn, almost falling onto the two surviving slaves.

"Woooo!~" The other side reacted quickly enough. The marauders who had not returned to the longship were instantly surrounded by the Unsullied. Jorah Mormont led the cavalry and seemed to be heading towards his invincible Ironborn. Come here.

"Bang!" The iron chain that had been prepared to restrain the dragon was immediately tied around Viserion's long neck, and he was dragged to the bow of the ship by four or five strong ironmen.

"This," Victarion thought, "is the iron money needed to marry the Dragon Queen."

He turned around and returned to the cabin, came to the side of the dark-skinned woman, carried her across the bed, and vented his desire.

The woman's face was expressionless, her tongue had long been cut off by Euron, just like the sailors on the latter's warship. She just stared at him blankly, resigned to letting him be happy.

After Victarion left, the dark-skinned woman touched her forehead and felt her body temperature carefully. She walked to the desk, picked up the sore-covered meat, and swallowed it one bite at a time.