Chapter 519 A Bunch of Dragon-Less Bastards

Afternoon, temporary station.

A flat barren hill, with no grass growing for dozens of miles, and hot wind mixed with gravel blowing all the time.

"Hiss..."

Vhagar's turbid vertical pupils narrowed slightly, and his huge body lazily crouched on the ridge, and his throat, which was big enough to run a horse, squeezed out a low moan from time to time.

The sky was cloudless.

Three giant dragons of different colors hovered, guarding the three sheepskin tents below.

Bang——

Inside the tent, a rough map was slapped on the table.

Rhaegar supported the table with both hands and said seriously: "A detailed map of the land of long summer, plus information about the descendants of a known dragon king family."

His fingers touched an illustration of a crowned red dragon, and licked the corner of his lips: "A pretty big mess, isn't it?"

On both sides of the table, three dragon riders gathered together.

"Fiznik! A family known today!"

Daemon's eyes were like torches, and his voice was low: "Among the forty dragon king families, a few are still remembered by the world."

After that, the uncle and nephew looked at each other, and everything was self-explanatory.

Rhaegar touched the space necklace, and the sun pendant was engraved with a crowned red dragon.

Daemon glanced at the black soft whip in his nephew's hand, and recalled the binding spell he had mastered.

All of this came from the Fiznik family.

Rhaegar took the lead in expressing his position, and said in an unquestionable tone: "There can only be one dragon king family in the world, and that is Targaryen!"

Like nephew, like uncle.

Daemon immediately agreed, his voice cold: "We have four people and four dragons. I suggest that we go straight to Slaver's Bay early tomorrow morning and burn that dirty land to ashes."

The uncle and nephew reached a consensus and their opinions were surprisingly consistent.

There are two main reasons for the Targaryen's long-lasting prosperity.

One, the slowly multiplying dragons.

Two, the unique noble bloodline.

Before the destruction of ancient Valyria, Targaryen was only a dragon family ranked in the middle and lower reaches.

After the Doomsday catastrophe, the rest of the dragon families were destroyed one by one.

As the only survivor, the Targaryen family leapt to the top of the world.

A newly revived dragon family will shake the Targaryen ruling power from the root.

Looking at the tacit uncle and nephew, Lanar frowned and analyzed rationally: "The truth of the news is still unknown, and it is not wise to attack without authorization."

"This is not a question of truth or falsehood, idiot!"

Daemon was unceremoniously and retorted: "If anyone dares to take the surname of the Dragon Family, the prestige of the Targaryen will fall to the bottom."

What's more, the Fitznik family is not a recorded dragon family.

Before the semi-ruins of Myr appeared, no one had heard of this surname.

The uncle and nephew kept the secret very well, and it was never spread to the Slaver Bay far away in the eastern continent of Essos.

There must be a reason for the spread of news.

Lanar looked at him unkindly, and turned her head away in disgust.

Helena, who had been quiet all the time, looked back and forth, and hugged herself silently.

She felt that the atmosphere was wrong, and her sensitive nerves were a little tense.

"Take a rest."

Rhaegar noticed, took off his black robe and put it on his sister.

"I'm fine."

Helena shrank her shoulders, felt the warmth of care, and expressed her doubts: "Where did the news come from? A family of dragon kings with a stable inheritance would not hide their identities for centuries?"

After the Doomsday catastrophe, Targaryen took root in Dragonstone for decades, and experienced several generations of changes.

Until the Black Death - Balerion grew up to a hundred years old and entered the threshold of adult dragons.

Meraxes and Vhagar found their masters one after another, and their age reached the prime age of being able to be of great use.

The conqueror and his two sisters started the war.

The Targaryen and Valyrian bloodlines were brought to the attention of the world.

The problem was critical, and Lanar looked at Daemon with suspicion.

Daemon had a cold face, avoiding the sight of his first wife, and stared at his good nephew.

His spy line has not yet spread to the Slaver's Bay.

Rhaegar was also unambiguous and said frankly: "The news came from the red priestess of the Red Temple. Her followers are in Meereen."

That woman is very difficult to deal with, and she has some strange means.

When Volantis selected the high tower councilors stationed in Rees, the red priestess was on the shortlist.

Rhaegar didn't like witches and kicked them out secretly.

Daemon sneered and said foul-mouthed: "Great, there really is a bastard dragon king!"

No matter whether Fiznik's bloodline is true or false.

The remnants of the dragon king without dragons are all regarded as bastards.

Rhaegar raised his eyelids and said: "According to the intelligence, a bastard dragon king who calls himself Fiznik received hospitality from the good master of Meereen, and it is said that he is a herdsman."

"Are there any family members?"

Helena's eyes were empty and her voice was light.

Rhaegar nodded: "Yes, the whole family was taken to the Great Pyramid of Meereen, and a girl became a concubine of the good master."

"You are a bastard!" Daemon continued to spit foul words.

"Stop talking nonsense." Lanar was a little irritated and accelerated the conversation: "A fake family is not worth mentioning. The key is the wild dragons in the Sea of ​​Smoke."

Rhaegar agreed very much: "The dragons have not left the Sea of ​​Smoke, but someone wants to occupy the Sea of ​​Smoke to catch dragons."

The warships in Slaver's Bay blocked the Sea of ​​Smoke, and the first batch of dragons with unknown bloodlines have been sent to search for the dragons.

Daemon took the right to speak: "I suggest that we go to Meereen first to burn the Great Pyramid and eliminate the troubles of the bastard dragon king."

"The fake is greedy for life and afraid of death. It is not worth the dragon's risk."

Lanner knew very well that the Good Master Sect must strictly defend the city-state, so she said with good reason: "We don't have a fleet, so we should first use the dragon to destroy the fleet blocking the Sea of ​​Smoke and cut off the way for dragon species to enter the Sea of ​​Smoke."

Even if the fake Dragon King is real, he is just an ordinary person if he doesn't go into the sea of ​​smoke to look for the dragon.

First eradicate the enemy's wings, and then wait for the sea power of Westeros to arrive, which is the time to annihilate the enemy in one fell swoop.

boom--

"Foolish woman!" Daemon slapped the table and sarcastically said, "Fame is more important than a baby dragon."

Helena listened attentively, and was startled by the sudden sound of slamming the table, her pretty face turned pale.

She has watched her father and mother being at odds with each other since she was a child, which left a certain psychological shadow on her.

The quarrel between Damon and Lannal made her nervous.

Rhaegar glared at his good uncle with dissatisfaction, hugged the weak and boneless Helena, and made a decision: "Early tomorrow morning, we will gather to destroy Yanhai's defense line."

"After that, wait for the fleet support of House Velaryon."

Westeros is far enough away from the Stepstones.

Beyond the scope of the disputed area, the fleet's sailing time is greatly extended, and it takes several months just to go back and forth.

Taking into account the supplies along the way, it is even more of a problem.

This is one of the main reasons why Rhaegar doesn't like fighting across seas.

The front line was in total darkness, and half of the vassals and their troops were on their way to the rear.

By bad luck, the ship encountered strong winds and waves, and the entire crew had to feed the fish.

Damon frowned, seeing things differently.

Rhaegar said directly: "Uncle, you don't want the baby dragon to be taken away by some bastard, right?"

"Listen to you."

Damon's face darkened and he no longer objected.

Morgul's tragedy is a scar for all Targaryens.

"very good!"

Rhaegar took Helena with him and walked out of the tent together.

"Haha, short-sighted."

Lanner glanced at her husband and strode away coolly.

Damon was left alone in the tent.

…

Outside, a deserted hillside.

Rhaegar noticed Lannar behind him and entered another tent with Helena.

Lannar was silent, and after being intimate with Vhagar for a while, she returned to another tent.

Four people, three tents.

…

The next day.

The Bay of Sorrow.

It is located on the southern coast of the eastern continent of Essos and is connected to Slaver's Bay.

The southern side of the bay is connected to the Summer Sea, with the ruins of Valyria on the west coast and the ruins of the ancient Gith empire on the east coast.

Looking down from the sky, it looks like an open trumpet.

Attract merchant ships from all over the world to come for trade.

At noon, the weather was sunny.

A fleet composed entirely of slaves sailed out of the Gulf of Sorrow, passing the almost black Cedar Island along the way, and headed towards the Sea of ​​Smoke.

The fleet flew the golden harpy flag and numbered more than thirty ships, enough to carry five thousand people.

The first is a three-masted ship.

The Unsullied in black armor stood guard with a straight back and an expressionless face.

Deep in the cabin.

It was a dark and narrow space, and everywhere you touched it felt damp and smelly.

A dozen Valyrians with silver-blond hair and fair skin, dressed in ragged clothes, huddled in a corner and shivered.

"Mom, I want to go home."

The little girl sobbed slightly, her dirty face buried deep in the plump woman's arms.

The woman's eyes were numb, and she stroked her daughter's long hair rigidly, pulling out a few frizzy strands.

They are all slaves, stuffed into the cabin by their hypocritical good masters and treated like livestock.

The purpose is to push him into the sea of ​​smoke and die.

"do not Cry!"

At the cabin door, a slovenly man was chewing hard black bread and scolding him in a frightening manner.

He occupied the only area that could be called dry, but peed on other people's territory.

He has dirty gray hair and a pair of staring indigo eyes.

Valyrian blood, no doubt.

When he shouted and scolded her, the little girl immediately stopped crying and put away her hands and feet without daring to move.

The sloppy big man sighed, and then cursed: "You're crying, if we can find the dragon, we can get rid of our status as slaves."

"The Sea of ​​Smoke is dangerous. Anyone who goes there will be cursed."

In the corner, a young man with silver hair who was as thin as a stick retorted timidly.

"Hmph!" The slovenly man put down the black bread that had chipped one of his back molars, and said vaguely: "Rather than be a slave, I would rather die."

The conversation changed and an evil light appeared in his eyes: "If you can really ride a dragon, why can't you be more noble than that Shepherd Dragon King? You can also live in the Great Pyramid in the future."

A bullshit Dragon King who emerged from nowhere in an alley can also receive special hospitality from a kind owner.

If I had known, he would also bear the surname of Dragon King and enjoy the treatment of being a master.

Well, think about it.

There are people who ride dragons in Westeros, called Targaryens and Velaryons.

Then his name is Diane. Diane!

Thinking about it, he made a lewd laugh.

When the thin young man heard the noise, his face turned blue with fright.

He hurriedly covered his sore butt.

…

The same scene happened in the bottom of every ship.

Hundreds of Valyrian descendants were captured and sold, and kept in the bottom of ships as consumables for capturing baby dragons.

Regardless of whether it's useful or not, let's send it to Yanhai first.

Merciful good masters do not care about the life or death of slaves.

…

Wow... Wow...

The sun is setting, and the waves are getting rougher.

The fleet sailed out of the Gulf of Sorrow, around the smoke-shrouded waters, and into the Summer Sea.

"Steer! Furl one sail!"

The watchman stuck out his tongue to test the direction of the wind and gave orders to the sailors underground.

It was getting dark and the wind and waves were getting stronger.

On the moody sea, it symbolizes the coming danger.

The slave army, lifeless, joined the team manning the big ship.

The Unsullied patrolled back and forth, monitoring the huge slave army, as if they were superior to slaves.

call--

A smelly sea breeze blew, and the half-stretched sail swayed violently.

"It's windy!"

Someone shouted to remind the fleet to sail carefully.

However, it wasn't just the wind and waves that came.

The sky became dark at some point, and dark clouds crowded together.

Crack!

A bolt of silver lightning struck down, like a silver bottle bursting.

"Hiss-"

A roar louder than muffled thunder resounded throughout the world, raindrops dripped down, and a huge figure stirred up the wind and clouds.

Countless sailors looked up when they heard the sound, with only panic in their eyes.

"dragon!"

"Scorpion Crossbow, hurry up!"

"..."

The Unsullied commander shouted loudly, killing the slave soldiers who were cowering in fear, and barely stabilized the situation.

In a flurry of activity, the slave soldiers acted as if they were resigned to their fate.

Angrily, he tore off the huge curtain on the deck, revealing the newly built scorpion crossbow.

Click! Click!

The winch rotated creakingly, the steel spear was filled, and the crossbowman pointed it at the foggy sky.

call--

A dark dragon shadow flashed past, its two wings like death's scythes cutting through the heavy raining black clouds.

The next moment, a cold voice sounded.

"Dragon Flame!"

In the sight of the slave soldiers, the dark dragon figure turned around and swooped down, its black body blending into the dark clouds, leaving only a pair of miserable green beast eyes like copper bells.

"Hiss-"

The green dragon flames spread overwhelmingly, igniting every warship evenly.

The glutton's erect pupils are cunning and violent, and he flaps his wings and dodges left and right, not at all agile and agile for such a body.

Boom!

The warships were on fire one after another, and screams occurred one after another.

"Project! Quick!"

"It hurts so much...run..."

The voices of the commander and the slave soldiers were in sharp contrast. The entire fleet was in chaos, with a few sporadic fine steel spears shooting into the sky.

"Hiss!"

"Roaring..."

The counterattack was rewarded with several dragon roars.

The dream fire plunged down into the clouds, and the light blue dragon flames were dreamy and gorgeous, engulfing the lifeboat trying to escape.

Vhagar and Corakxiu entangled together, black smoke and red flames went side by side, killing the last bit of courage of the slave soldiers.

Crackling... pattering...

Lightning flashed and thunder roared, and the wind howled.

Rhaegar's silver hair was dancing wildly, and the heavy rain wet his handsome face. He looked back and shouted: "Quick victory, pay attention to your altitude!"

The words were spoken with the skill of binding magic spells, and they reached the ears of the other three people closely.

Damon's eyes were cold, the rain flowed down his collarbone into his chest, and his scarlet cloak was like a tongue of fire.

Corakxiu seemed to like this thunderstorm very much, with its almost crazy roar and the endless spurting of dragon flames.

The lethality of one dragon was faintly greater than that of three dragons, including the glutton.

Within a moment, the sea water was dyed red with blood.

"Let's go! Return to the station!"

As the Glutton rowed across the water where the broken ship had fallen, Rhaegar leaned forward and gave his order.

In just one day, four men and four dragons surrounded the Sea of ​​Smoke and destroyed dozens of warships and patrol ships in Slaver's Bay.

Mentally and physically exhausted, he was no longer fit to fight in the rain.

"Hiss... Ga..."

Corakxiu was very excited, his body like a spiritual snake swaying wantonly, shuttled across the sea to devour the surviving enemies.

Damon looked around and saw many silver-haired figures, and cruelly ordered them to be burned to death.

Anyone who dares violate Targaryen uniqueness.

Innocent or not, you deserve to die!

Rhaegar watched with cold eyes and called Helena and Lanner to take the first step.

He captured some special slaves and wanted to go back to interrogate the information.

Leave Damon here to vent!