(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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STEPSTONES...
The command tore from Viserys's throat, frantic and shrill.
"ATTACK!"
Bloodjaws obeyed.
Compared to the colossal presence of Gildhōra, Viserys's dragon now looked smaller—still massive by mortal standards, but suddenly… inadequate.
Bloodjaws hesitated just a fraction of a second.
That hesitation nearly saved Viserys's life.
With a furious roar, Bloodjaws opened its jaws wide, the corrupted red-black fire building like a furnace. The flames compressed, spinning violently—
-ROOOOAAARRRR!!!
Then erupted, a concentrated torrent aimed straight for the middle head of Gildhōra. Straight for Leo.
"...."
"...."
Rhaenys inhaled sharply. Aemma's grip tightened.
But Leo didn't move.
The clouds shifted.
From the storm wall to the side, one of Gildhōra's heads surged forward with impossible speed, moving not like a beast—but like a weapon released.
Its eyes blazed golden.
-CRACKLE! -CRACKLE!
Lightning crawled across its scales, converging inward.
Viserys felt it before he understood it.
"...."
Power—not borrowed, not stolen—absolute.
The energy traveled visibly: from Gildhōra's vast chest → up the neck → condensing at the jaws.
Bloodjaws twisted desperately at the last second, wings screaming in protest as Viserys hauled on the reins.
The red flame attack narrowly missed its mark—But it didn't matter.
Gildhōra fired. A yellow gravity beam roared out of Gildhōra's mouth, the air collapsing inward around it as if reality itself were being dragged along.
-ZZZIIIINNNGG!!!
It didn't explode and it erased distance.
The beam cut across the sky in an instant and struck a mountain far beyond the battlefield—And the peak simply ceased to exist.
No fireball. No debris rain. Just lava where stone melted by staying besides the impact area.
The entire upper half of the mountain was gone, sheared cleanly away as if bitten off by the world itself.
Silence followed. Wind rushed in to fill the absence.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Viserys stared. His mind refused to process what his eyes had just witnessed.
A mountain. Just gone. His laughter died in his throat. Blood drained from his face as he whispered.
"...."
"…Impossible,"
Bloodjaws trembled beneath him—not from injury—But from fear.
"...."
For the first time since its unnatural empowerment, the dragon tried to pull back on its own.
Not retreating. Fleeing.
Viserys clenched the reins, hands shaking while muttering as his voice cracking.
"No—no, you're chosen, The gods—"
Above him, Leo stood atop Gildhōra's middle head, cloak snapping violently in the storm, eyes glowing calmly in the chaos.
He looked down at Viserys. Not with hatred. Not even with anger. With the detached gaze of someone watching a man finally understand the truth.
"That,was not an attack."
Leo said quietly, his voice carrying effortlessly through the storm,
The three heads of Gildhōra aligned, lightning spiraling around them like a crown.
"That was a warning."
THRONE REALM...
The Old and New Gods felt it then. Not defiance. Not challenge. Fear.
Because for the first time in centuries, the power they had poured into a mortal was standing before something that did not need their blessing.
STEPSTONES...
The storm reached its absolute pitch.
All three heads of Gildhōra drew back in perfect synchronization.
Golden lightning spiraled inward, gravity bending, space groaning as three beams began charging at once.
The sky itself screamed.
At that instant—A luminous screen erupted in front of Bloodjaws.
"...."
A desperate construct—divine in origin—etched with ancient runes. The Old and New Gods, panicking now, poured will into it.
'Stop it. Hold—just for a moment—'
The barrier flared brilliantly.
And then—It failed.
Not shattered. Penetrated.
-CRACK!
The three gravity beams punched through the light-screen as if it were mist, converging into a single, devastating impact.
The beams struck. Bloodjaws let out a scream that shook the heavens—a sound not of rage, but of agony.
-ROOAAARR!!!
Its massive form was hurled downward, wings folding involuntarily as the corrupted divinity inside it unraveled violently.
The dragon spiraled, trailing distorted energy, and slammed into the Stepstones below with a thunderous impact that sent shockwaves across land and sea.
-BAM!!!
Flames died. The storm recoiled. Silence followed.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Viserys was thrown from the saddle at the last second—not spared by skill, but by accident.
He hit the ground hard, skidding across scorched stone.
His crown rolled away. He coughed violently, dark blood staining his lips as he struggled to breathe.
Above him, the storm clouds parted just enough for Gildhōra's silhouette to loom—unchallenged.
Viserys lay there, broken, vision blurring.
"...."
Then the voices returned. No longer reassuring.
No longer grand. They were furious.
"Why do you hesitate?"
"Why do you cling to sanity?"
"You were given another path."
Pain lanced through his skull as the voices pressed in.
"Command the dead."
"Unleash them."
"Yes, you will lose yourself—"
The voices laughed, cold and cruel.
"—but what is left to lose?"
"Your mind?"
"Your humanity?"
"Isn't it worth it… to win?"
Viserys trembled. He felt it—the second power coiled within him like rot beneath flesh.
"...."
The ability to call the fallen, to raise armies that did not fear flame or blade.
He knew the price.
He would not come back the same.
He might not come back at all.
But as he lay there, staring at the sky where a god stood mounted on a three-headed dragon, one thought drowned out all others.
'I cannot lose.'
His fingers twitched. Dark energy—cold, grave-deep—began to seep from the ground around him.
Above, Leo watched in silence.
Not surprised. Not alarmed. Just… attentive.
"So, you're choosing that path."
He said softly, almost thoughtfully,
Aemma felt it and stiffened. Rhaenys narrowed her eyes.
"...."
"...."
The air grew heavy. The dead beneath the Stepstones began to stir.
And far beyond the battlefield, the Old and New Gods leaned forward on their thrones—Because Viserys Targaryen was about to make a choice that would not just decide a war—It would decide whether he would still be called human when the night ended.
The black energy spread like ink through water.
It seeped into the cracked earth, slid beneath shattered armor, wrapped around fallen bodies—soldiers, horses, even the massive form of Bloodjaws lying broken in the stone.
One by one, they moved.
Not rising yet.
First came the twitching—jerky, unnatural, like puppets remembering forgotten strings.
Fingers curled. Jaws shuddered. Empty eye sockets glowed with a dim, sickly light.
Viserys screamed. Not in fear.
But in agony.
-Ahhhhhh!!!
The power tore through him without mercy.
His body convulsed as the price came due—bones cracking and reforming, posture twisting unnaturally as something cold and hollow settled into his chest.
His breath rattled.
His skin lost its warmth, color draining away as if life itself had been peeled back layer by layer.
His eyes clouded, then cleared again—no longer human, no longer alive.
Something else looked out through them.
His teeth grew uneven, jagged, sharpened not for eating but for tearing.
"...."
His laughter burst out suddenly—harsh, broken, utterly unhinged.
"Ah… hah… hahahaha…!"
It echoed across the Stepstones, bouncing off ruined cliffs and dead stone.
"I feel it,"
Viserys crooned, voice warped, doubled by something beneath it.
"The silence… the obedience… the truth."
Around him, bodies rose.
Soldiers stood with impossible stillness, wounds knitting into dark seams.
Horses staggered upright, eyes glowing faintly as they lowered their heads in submission.
And then—Bloodjaws moved.
The fallen dragon's chest expanded with a hollow sound as corrupted energy flooded into it. Its wings twitched, then slammed outward, lifting debris and dust into the air as it dragged itself upright once more.
Not reborn. Reclaimed.
Viserys spread his arms, black energy coiling around him like a crown.
"Do you see now?"
He snarled toward the sky.
"I don't need their blessing anymore."
Above, lightning rolled.
-Crack! -Flash!
Aemma's expression hardened. Rhaenys felt a chill creep down her spine.
And Leo—Leo finally frowned.
-Frown
Not because of fear. But because disappointment had finally replaced patience as he said quietly.
"That's it, then, You didn't choose to fight me."
The shadows around Gildhōra deepened, the storm tightening as if reality itself were bracing.
"You chose to become their pawn willingly."
Below, the undead army turned in perfect unison, awaiting its master's command.
And Viserys Targaryen—king, chosen, broken—threw back his head and laughed again, convinced he had finally seized victory…
The storm quieted.
Not because the battle had ended—but because Leo had arrived.
He sighed softly, the sound almost lost beneath distant thunder, and then the world folded again.
-Sigh
"...."
Leo appeared on the ground before Viserys.
Not with force. Not with spectacle. Simply… there using apparation.
Above them, Gildhōra remained in the sky, vast wings spread, lightning crawling lazily along its scales like a living crown. It did not descend. It did not need to.
"...."
This was no longer a dragon's fight.
A dark aura spilled from Leo's feet, spreading outward like a living tide.
The shadows thickened.
They stretched, deepened, opened—And eyes appeared within them.
Dozens. Hundreds. Cold. Ancient. Obedient.
From Leo's shadow, figures stepped out:
Armored shadow soldiers, perfectly formed, weapons held in disciplined silence
Massive shadow beasts, their shapes half-draconic, half-nightmare
And finally—a shadow dragon, coiling upward behind him, its presence crushing the air
They did not roar.
They did not threaten. They waited.
Viserys felt his breath hitch.
"...."
His undead army—raised through agony, through the destruction of his own flesh—hesitated.
Not from lack of command. From instinct.
Viserys's lips twitched while cursing how unfair the gods were treating him.
A spasm of disbelief ran through his decayed body.
All that pain. All that sacrifice. His sanity. His humanity.
For this. And yet Leo stood there—unchanged. Unbroken. Untouched.
No decayed flesh. No twisted bones. No screaming gods in his head.
Just power. Calm, absolute power.
"You…"
Viserys rasped, voice layered with something hollow.
"I suffered for this. I earned this."
Leo looked at him with dead eyes which asks how did he earned it while replied quitly.
"I know, That's why I'm not ending you."
Viserys's eyes widened—then narrowed, rage and confusion mixing together.
"You think mercy makes you superior?"
Leo shook his head once.
"No, Consequences do."
The shadows behind him shifted, reacting to his will alone—no chanting, no decay, no loss as he continued.
"You chose shortcuts, You chose to be pawn."
He glanced briefly at the undead army.
"At the dragon that no longer lives."
Then back to Viserys.
"I promised Aemma, that you wouldn't die quickly."
Leo said, voice steady, unyielding,
The shadow dragon behind him leaned forward slightly, its eyes locking onto Viserys as Leo finished.
"So you'll live, And every year you exist like this—"
The shadows' eyes brightened.
"—will remind you that this outcome was your choice."
For the first time since the battle began, fear—not rage, not madness—cracked through Viserys's expression.
He looked at Leo.
Then at Gildhōra in the sky.
Then at the shadow army that mirrored his own undead forces—but stood perfect, disciplined, unbroken.
His lips trembled still unwilling to believe what he heard and whispered.
"You didn't steal this power,"
Leo met his gaze.
"I didn't need to. Believe it or not."
The storm overhead tightened once more—not in chaos, but in containment.
The gods watching from beyond felt it then.
But something far worse.
Irrelevance.
And as Leo took one slow step forward, shadows moving with him like a living mantle, Viserys finally understood the truth he had been too blind to see:
He had sacrificed everything to imitate power—While standing before someone who had never needed to change to wield it.
The moment Viserys realized mercy was not execution, his mind snapped completely.
"ATTACK—KILL HIM—KILL EVERYTHING!"
His command ripped through the battlefield like a curse.
The undead army surged forward—broken soldiers, warped horses, bodies stitched together by necrotic will.
Above them, the undead Bloodjaws roared, wings flapping unevenly as corrupted energy forced the corpse-dragon back into the sky.
Leo didn't raise his voice. The shadows answered the moment enemies made their way.
Shadow soldiers moved as one—disciplined, silent, precise—colliding with the undead ranks.
Where Viserys's army lurched and howled, Leo's forces advanced like a living formation, cutting through necrotic flesh with clean, final strikes.
In the sky, the battle became one-sided almost instantly.
Gildhōra descended, lightning tearing through the clouds as its three heads surrounded Bloodjaws from different angles.
The shadow dragon joined in, locking onto the undead dragon's flank, tearing at corrupted wings and grounding its movements.
Bloodjaws tried to fight. Tried.
But against two apex predators, one born of dominance and the other of absolute obedience, it was helpless—driven back, forced lower with every exchange.
On the ground, Viserys screamed—a raw, animal sound.
-Ahhhhh!!!
"Die!!!"
He drew his sword and charged.
Not with skill.
Not with strategy.
With the desperation of someone who had already lost everything and refused to accept it.
"I WILL NOT LOSE!"
He howled, sprinting toward Leo like a madman.
Leo turned. Calmly. He unsheathed his sword.
One smooth motion. Steel flashed.
-SWISHHH!!!
Viserys's charge ended instantly. His arm fell away. His leg followed.
"...."
He hit the ground hard, screaming——In pure agony.
-Ahhhhh!!!
Still, he clawed at the earth, dragging himself forward, teeth bared, eyes burning with madness.
"No—no—I gave everything—EVERYTHING!"
Leo looked down at him as he spoke.
"You did, And that's why you're still here."
Above them, Bloodjaws let out one final, broken roar as Gildhōra and the shadow dragon forced it down, pinning the undead dragon beneath overwhelming power.
-ROOOOARRR!!!
The battlefield fell silent.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Viserys lay broken, defeated—but alive.
Still screaming. Still refusing to accept what he had become.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N)I hope you guys are enjoying the story.
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give areview
And power stone!!!
It will Motivate Me.