“Aaaargh!” the Lhazareen priestess howled in the flames, her voice shrill, high-pitched, and filled with agony.
She was not as strong as she had imagined.
Dany sat cross-legged beside Drogo and threw the torch into the pyre herself.
*Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.* Tiny pale blue flames darted along the trails of scented oil, springing up across the pyre like swift snakes.
The oil first ignited the twigs and dry grass.
Seconds later, the wood began to crackle.
A wave of heat rose from the fire and washed over the people gathered around the pyre.
At first, it felt like a lover’s caress, gentle and warm, but soon the leaping flames shed their serpentine forms and transformed into fire dragons.
They spiraled into the air, baring fangs and brandishing claws, recklessly unleashing their blinding light and searing heat.
Ser Jorah and the others watched the flames, hearing only the crisp crackle of burning wood and the priestess’s song.
In the beginning, Mirri used her loud singing to mask her fear and vent her suffering.
As the flames surged and the fire grew fiercer, her song became louder and more piercing…
Then the thick smoke hit her.
She suddenly gasped for air, then again, and again, until her song devolved into a trembling wail.
The scent drifted into the crowd on the waves of heat, seemingly no different from the smell of horse meat roasting over a campfire, yet it made Jorah want to vomit.
*Could the scent of his princess be mingled in there?* At the thought, he gagged and actually threw up.
The cross-shaped pyre was fully engulfed, roaring like a massive dragon.
Its deafening voice drowned out the priestess’s fading screams.
The fire dragon spat long tongues of flame toward the sky and in every direction, licking the belly of the night and biting at the skin of the Dothraki.
Amidst the thickening smoke, the horse people could no longer endure the suffocating heat.
Coughing, they retreated away from the pyre.
The fire dragon let out an angry roar, stirring up a gale from purgatory that sent nearby banners snapping wildly.
The wood hissed and popped as glowing embers rose from the smoke screen, drifting into the boundless night like thousands of newborn fireflies.
Meanwhile, within the sea of fire, Dany seemed to have entered a bizarre world.
As her painted vest, silk trousers, and sandals smoked and burned, Dany was still inwardly mocking the priestess Mirri for trying to hide her wails with a song.
But soon, her attention was drawn to the black dragon egg in her hands.
The egg radiated a heat far more intense than the flames, and she could barely resist the urge to throw it away.
Dany immediately forced herself into the dragon dream state.
The fundamental principle of the dragon dream was that Dany’s soul merged with the dragon’s.
Her own soul was a complete “1,” and “the black dragon’s soul + Dany’s soul” still equaled “1”—a more complete “1.” In the dragon dream state, she possessed the black dragon’s perspective and senses.
Now, she saw herself standing in a blood-red purgatory of fire.
Before her stood her black dragon, blotting out the sky just as it had before.
The black dragon opened its maw wide and roared at the heavens.
Countless colorful motes of light, tiny as fireflies, converged from beyond the sky into a glowing river that flowed down its throat.
Gold, silver, green, purple, bright red…
The colors of the light motes were too numerous for Dany to count.
“This is…” A sudden flash of insight struck Dany.
“Hatching dragons!” She immediately connected with her artifact and checked her character panel.
Aside from ‘the Unburnt’ and ‘Dragon Dream’, her ‘Mother of Dragons’ bloodline talent also included the unique ability ‘Hatch Dragons’.
— Hatch Dragons: Bestow flames and spiritual essence upon dragon eggs, thereby allowing fossilized dragon eggs that retain their soul origin, dead dragon eggs, and healthy dragon eggs to hatch into young dragons.
‘What is spiritual essence?’ The moment the thought arose, a stream of information flowed into her sea of consciousness.
Dany inexplicably gained a more fundamental understanding of the Mother of Dragons’ ‘Hatch Dragons’ talent.
Spiritual essence was the fundamental substance of a living, active soul.
It existed in the world wherever life thrived, residing within the souls of all living beings.
In a world without reincarnation or an underworld, it was the gathering of spiritual essence that allowed organic matter to give rise to the miracle of life.
For example, a newborn baby was composed of body and soul.
The physical body was inherited from the parents, while the soul originated from the accumulation of the world’s spiritual essence within that flesh.
The three dragon eggs gifted to Dany by Illyrio of Pentos had turned to stone over thousands of years of history.
In theory, they were just beautiful, lifeless objects, no different from diamonds or gemstones.
Yet, these fossilized eggs happened to encounter Daenerys Targaryen.
Her bloodline was exceedingly rare, practically the ultimate achievement of Valyria’s dragon magic civilization.
Let alone the Targaryen family, perhaps even in the thousands of years of Valyrian history, a “Mother of Dragons” constitution like hers had almost never appeared.
Perhaps, Dany was a mutation.
Her “Mother of Dragons” talent could subconsciously bestow the world’s spiritual essence upon the dragon eggs.
A fossilized dragon egg gaining new life was indeed a miracle, but dragons themselves were magical creatures that represented miracles; they could not be judged by common sense.
The original Dany had only subconsciously wished for her eggs to hatch into baby dragons; she had almost never actively developed her talents for dragon dreams and hatching dragons.
But this new Dany understood that at this critical moment, she had better do something.
“Big Black, I’m here to help you,” she called out to the black dragon above her.
The next moment, her position shifted.
She went from the blazing ground to the top of the dragon’s head, which was covered in scales like black jade.
She was riding on the back of the dragon’s neck.
As if arriving at the place destined to be hers, Dany experienced a different sensation in this moment: she and the dragon merged into one, and together, they were being reborn in the flames.
Suddenly, the motes of spiritual essence above the black dragon’s head grew denser.
Gradually, a rainbow-colored vortex formed above its open maw.
Anyone who didn’t know better might have thought it was charging up a Tailed Beast Ball!
*Roar, roar!* An unknown amount of time passed before Dany sensed the other dragons besides the black one for the first time—the white dragon and the green dragon.
Previously, even when holding their eggs, she hadn’t been able to establish a dragon dream connection with the white and green dragons like she had with the black one.
But in this moment, she clearly “saw” the white and green dragons flying toward her.
Riding the black dragon, with the white and green dragons circling her like wingmen, the four of them roamed freely through the rainbow-colored ocean.
They were so joyful, so proud, as if the very sky was trampled beneath her feet.
She was the Mother of Dragons, destined by her bloodline to be the mother of these great beasts.
Perhaps fate had arranged her birth, but her talent had nothing to do with any gods or anything else.
“Only death may pay for life” had come from the mouth of the maegi, spoken in her capacity as a servant to the demons in the shadows.
And the Lord of Shadow was an evil god, a demon, and simultaneously another aspect of R’hllor, combining with the “Lord of Light” to form the complete deity known as ‘R’hllor’.
The Targaryens belonged to the ancient Valyrian race, and the Valyrians had their own gods: Balerion, Meraxes, and Vhagar.
There was no Lord of Light, R’hllor.
During the Valyrian era, when the civilization of dragons and magic reached its absolute zenith, R’hllor had absolutely nothing to do with it.
The Lord of Light might have coveted dragons, but He had no connection to them whatsoever.
Dany “giving birth” to dragons also had nothing to do with the Lord of Light; her Mother of Dragons constitution originated from Valyria’s transcendent blood magic.
By midnight, the fire had died down to the point where no open flames were visible, but the glowing red charcoal beneath the ash continued to scorch the earth and the air.
It wasn’t until the cold night mist was dispersed by the morning light that Ser Jorah Mormont, having agonized all night, could finally endure the scalding ground.
He found Dany in the center of the cross-shaped ashes.
She was half-crouching on the ground, surrounded by blackened charcoal, glowing embers, and the charred bones of man and horse.
She was completely naked, her lower half buried in nearly half a meter of ash.
Her bare arms and back were visible, and if not for her striking head of silver hair, he would hardly have been able to distinguish her soot-blackened body from the charcoal.
“The Seven preserve us!” he exclaimed in sheer ecstasy, bending down to support her shoulders.
*Hiss—screech—* A glossy black “snake head” slithered out from Dany’s hair, screeching as wisps of white smoke puffed from its snout.
The joy on Jorah’s face instantly turned to horror.
He yanked his right hand back as if electrocuted, locking eyes for a moment with the glowing, coal-red eyes on the “snake head.” “A dragon?!” he said hoarsely.
As much as he didn’t want to believe it, behind the long neck of the “snake head” was a pair of flapping wings that stirred up a cloud of ash.
It was no snake, but a dragon, miraculously born from the flames.
The knight said nothing.
He took a few steps back and dropped to one knee with an expression of unprecedented reverence.
Jolted awake from her bizarre state, Dany slowly raised her head.
She glanced first at Mormont, then swept her gaze over the khas behind him.
The Dothraki—men, women, and children alike, even the ten detained warriors of Khal Odo—every single one of them had dropped their weapons and knelt on the sandy earth, pressing their faces close to the smoking ground in absolute awe.
Dany knew that from this moment on, they were entirely hers.
Today, tomorrow, and forever.
This was not submission born of fear of Drogo’s power, but a true, heartfelt surrender to her.
Bathed in ash, she stood up completely naked—at this moment, not a single person dared to raise their head.
“Irri, go fetch my clothes.
Doreah, Jhiqui, prepare hot water for my bath,” she commanded her handmaids.
The black dragon perched on her shoulder, its snakelike neck wrapped almost entirely around hers.
The other two clung to her chest, cradled in her arms.
Irri trotted over with a silk robe and carefully draped it over Dany.
Looking at the two nursing hatchlings, her face suddenly changed drastically.
She murmured, “The Stallion Who Mounts the World…
This is the Stallion Who Mounts the World!
Khaleesi, you really did give birth to the Stallion Who Mounts the World.
The crones’ prophecy has come true.” “You speak too much,” Dany said flatly.
*Hiss-screech—hiss-screech—* The black dragon immediately turned its head and roared at Irri.
Its two brothers released Dany at the same time and joined in its screeching in unison.
*Whimper.* The poor little horse girl covered her mouth, on the verge of tears from fright.