Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 358: Three Hundred Meter Giant Dragon Remains

Chapter 358: Three Hundred Meter Giant Dragon Remains

The following day, the weather was clear.

Sothoryos, somewhere in the barren canyon of the Green Hell.

A dragon, black as charcoal, let out a low roar and flapped its wide wings as it swooped over the canyon, teasingly chasing its prey.

Two thirty-foot green and white striped wyverns roared in panic and scurried away like headless flies. But they were no match for the larger dragon in speed and size.

Stab!

Cannibal's green eyes gleamed with predatory hunger as he opened his mouth and bit down on one of the wyverns. Its sharp fangs closed violently, ripping the creature apart in an instant.

Blood spilled from the sky as Cannibal held its head high and chewed a few times before swallowing the wyvern whole. It was the size of a full-grown dragon.

As it flapped its wings again, Cannibal's massive body cast a shadow over most of the canyon, including the other fleeing wyvern.

"Squeak..."

The sunlight above was blocked, and the wyvern roared in terror as a huge dragon claw, black as steel, fell mercilessly overhead.

The wyvern's small body was like a chicken caught in the dragon's claw. In the next second, with a sickening crunch, the entire wyvern was crushed. Its entrails flew into the air, leaving only its slender neck and wings dangling helplessly.

It fell to the ground with a thud, reduced to a mere snack.

...

Inside the canyon, before a deep cave.

Rhaegar stood with his head tilted, silver hair cascading over his shoulders, his tight black robe flapping in the wind.

With a swift motion, he yanked a lance from the ground, blood splattering around him. At his feet lay a twenty-foot swamp wyvern, its spiky head punctured by the lance, while the Valyrian Steel Sword—Truefyre —remained lodged in its spine.

"That creature was tough," Rhaegar muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. "It didn't seem to feel any pain. It was almost impossible to bring it down without hitting its vitals."

He pulled the Valyrian Steel Lance Dawn from his space bracelet and shook off the blood with a flourish before returning it to its place. The lance proved more effective against large beasts.

"Roar..."

Cannibal roared, landing nearby as Rhaegar retrieved Truefyre. The hungry dragon did not wait for its rider's signal. It stretched its neck and swallowed the wyvern's carcass in one gulp, chewing briefly before swallowing.

"Oh, you were really hungry!" Rhaegar chuckled, his eyes scanning the rocky canyon floor. The ground was littered with skeletons - boars, monkeys, and even natives. The three dead wyverns had been the dominant predators here.

They showed some pack behavior, but often fought among themselves - a trait of mindless beasts.

"Cannibal, let's go."

Rhaegar climbed onto the dragon's back, securing a bulging pouch to the saddle.

"Roar..."

Cannibal, his mouth smeared with blood, looked back at Rhaegar, his green pupils flashing with a hint of dissatisfaction.

Ignoring the dragon's mood, Rhaegar opened the sack and pulled out a grayish-white wyvern egg. It was about the size of a dragon's egg, but lacked the dragon's scale-like shell.

It was one of the wyvern eggs, two in all, taken from the deep cave. The sack also contained three light green wyvern eggs collected from the swamp the night before.

The swamp wyverns were solitary creatures, and their rarity meant that they did not lay many eggs. Rhaegar had found three clutches in the swamp, each containing three eggs. He took the freshest clutch, leaving the rest for Cannibal to devour.

The brindled wyverns, however, were different. Almost herd animals, three of them had produced only one nest with two eggs. Rhaegar examined the gray and white eggs thoughtfully, pondering aloud, "Can these hatch on their own?"

The brindled wyvern was a formidable creature, its adult size comparable to a full-grown dragon. Even without fire-breathing abilities, its fangs and claws made it a destructive force. If it could be tamed...

Rhaegar shook his head and smiled ruefully. "A beast without intelligence," he mused. "If it could be tamed, the natives would have done so long ago."

He glanced at Cannibal, who was staring hungrily at the gray and white eggs. This sparked a new idea in his mind. "If these can hatch and we can bring a batch back to Westeros, they could serve as excellent training opponents for our dragons."

Rhaegar's eyes brightened at the thought. Most of the family's dragons were kept in captivity from the moment they hatched, fed on cows and sheep. In time, they lost their hunting instincts. Wyverns, fierce and larger than normal flying beasts, would be perfect opponents for young and sub-adult dragons, helping them hone their fighting skills.

"Roar..."

Cannibal, frustrated by the lack of dragon eggs, roared and took off from the canyon, seeking its next hunting ground.

...

It was nearing noon.

Rhaegar and Cannibal had destroyed three nests of brindled wyverns and continued their search without rest. Cannibal's green vertical pupils were cold and focused, its hunger eased somewhat. They left the Green Hell region and searched the nearby islands.

The long-winged dragons in Green Hell had hidden too well, unwilling to come out when they sensed Cannibal's presence. The islands, however, had a larger distribution of wyvern and some rare beasts that were barely edible.

"Roar..."

Suddenly, Cannibal bared its fangs, sniffing the faint scent of its own kind. Its green eyes locked onto a large, mango-shaped island.

Rhaegar sensed the change and commanded, "Cannibal, land!"

"Roar..."

Cannibal roared and dived, its massive black body slicing through the jungle canopy of the island. After a thorough search, it approached a low canyon covered in dense greenery.

The canyon was adjacent to a short peak. Observing closely, Rhaegar felt a distinct warmth—it seemed to be an active volcano that had been dormant for years.

"A volcano," Rhaegar murmured.

Since the eruption of the Fourteen Flames in Ancient Valyria, the only known active volcano was Dragonmont on Dragonstone Island. The underground magma beneath the Isle of Faces was sluggishly developing, barely qualifying as a miniature volcano. Other volcanic landscapes were exceedingly rare.

Sensing his rider's anticipation, Cannibal circled the dormant volcano and landed above the canyon.

Rhaegar examined the area closely. The volcano was densely covered with green plants, and many birds had nested there, indicating it hadn't erupted for decades.

"Roar--"

A thunderous roar echoed as Cannibal was suddenly stimulated by something. Green Dragonfire accumulated in the depths of its throat.

Rhaegar's eyes widened in shock as he looked around.

Before him lay the remains of a colossal dragon.

The skeleton was pitch black, crowned with a dense array of horns. A pair of grayish horns extended more than a dozen meters from its head. The canyon, a few hundred meters long and a few dozen meters wide, nestled deep in the forest, was filled with the giant dragon's remains. Its wing bones jutted out, drooping into the clearing on both sides, spreading hundreds of meters away.

"Cannibal, get closer," Rhaegar ordered.

After the initial shock, Rhaegar's breathing steadied, though his mind raced. In comparison to Cannibal, the dragon remains were about three times larger. From the enormous dragon head to the thick tail, Rhaegar estimated the dragon had been over three hundred meters long in life, with a wingspan of over six hundred meters.

"Seven hells! Is this really a dragon?" Rhaegar muttered, waves of terror rising within him.

Throughout the Targaryen House's history, the largest dragon had been Balerion the Black Dread. Even at over 200 years old, Balerion, who was larger than the current Vhagar, did not reach two hundred meters in length.

Balerion, from the most prosperous noble bloodline of ancient Valyria, was among the top dragons of the 40 Dragonlord families. Yet, the remains before Rhaegar were easily over three hundred meters. The sheer size left him momentarily unable to process the shock.

"Cannibal, put me down!" Rhaegar ordered, taking several deep breaths to steady himself.

He had to examine the giant dragon's remains up close. For one, he wanted to trigger the Explorer’s System. A dragon bigger than Balerion deserved to be considered a relic. Moreover, he was incredulous at the sheer size of this dragon and needed to see it firsthand to believe it.

Determining the dragon's age might provide clues as to when it died. If it was more than 200 years old, it must have hatched before the Doom. Given its extraordinary size, it was unlikely to have gone unnoticed by the Dragonlord families. Even if it was a wild dragon, its existence seemed too important to remain hidden.

“Roar...”

Cannibal hesitated, sniffing the air and lowering its head as if searching for something. After a moment, a look of doubt flickered in its green eyes, and its tense body gradually relaxed. It seemed to have discovered something that eased its vigilance.

“Roar...”

With a dull roar, Cannibal flapped its wings and flew towards the canyon, landing in an open space near the dragon’s skull.

“Cannibal, stay alert,” Rhaegar instructed as he slid off the dragon’s back, rushing toward the giant remains.

The dense vegetation of the canyon intertwined with the dragon's bones, creating an absurd yet beautiful contrast of life and death. As he drew closer, Rhaegar was struck by the enormity of the skeleton.

The dragon’s skull was as large as a small castle, with fangs thicker than his waist. The sheer scale was staggering.

“A miracle...” Rhaegar muttered, reaching out to touch one of the thick dragon teeth.

Crack-

The anticipated beep from his Explorer System didn’t come. Instead, the crunching sound of bone breaking filled the air.

Rhaegar froze, pressing on the dragon tooth with more force.

Thud.

The massive tooth, once securely attached to the lower jaw, broke free and fell heavily to the grass.

Rhaegar's mouth opened slightly, half in shock. He crouched down and examined the junction where the tooth had come loose. It wasn't weathered or broken; it just came loose.

A flash of insight struck Rhaegar, and he exclaimed, "A three-hundred-meter dragon still has its horns?"

Typically, as dragons aged, their bones and muscles grew, pushing out non-essential structures like horn crowns, dragon horns, and sometimes even scales. Vhagar, at 170 years old, had lost its once-majestic horns, leaving only fine, new ones. This dragon's horns were intact, and its jaw and neck muscles were slack, hanging loosely.

Rhaegar's eyes flickered with uncertainty. He quickly retreated from the dragon’s skull and shouted, "Cannibal!"

"Roar!"

Cannibal responded instantly, its massive body turning sharply. With a powerful sweep of its thick, pitch-black tail, it struck the giant dragon’s skull.

Boom!

The impact sent the skull flying, separating it from the spine and smashing it into the canyon wall. In an instant, the skull shattered into pieces, fangs snapping at the roots, and the giant dragon horns snapping off and disintegrating into a pile of bone fragments.

Clatter...

As the bones scattered, Rhaegar’s eyes grew cold with disappointment. "True dragons bones are supposed to be almost indestructible."

Dragon bones are renowned for their strength, capable of withstanding magma and enduring centuries of weathering while maintaining steel-like hardness. Something was very wrong with these remains.