A raging storm, monstrous waves, volcanic eruptions, and thunderclouds sealing off the entire sea—all the fury of nature was unleashed to its fullest in this place!
The warships tilted and leapt uncontrollably, rocked violently by crashing waves. They were hurled up to the crests before plunging down into the troughs again and again.
The up-and-down motion aboard the ships was more jarring than any wild horse a Dothraki warrior had ever ridden—enough to rattle a person to the marrow.
Scorching debris spewed from volcanic vents, far more violent than burning stones from a catapult, rained down from the sky, smashing holes into the ships and letting seawater pour below deck in a frenzy.
The deck under Drogo's feet trembled violently. Through the hatch, he could hear the sounds below—his horse neighing and kicking.
Snowball, like all Dothraki who feared the sea, clung tightly to its master's pant leg, seeking comfort in its own way.
The ship creaked horrifically. The smell of wine and vomit filled the air. The Dothraki prayed in trembling whispers. All of it crushed the will to survive.
A giant wave crashed over the railing, sweeping two sailors off the deck and into the sea. A helpless Unsullied, sliding across the slanted deck, was struck in the eye by a stray spear. The first mate was flung from the stern to the deck below, both his legs shattered in the fall.
Serpentine bolts of lightning danced along the railings and masts. A crewman touched one by accident and instantly burst into smoke, collapsing into spasms.
The demon dragons flapped through the heavy rain, circling the web of lightning above. They crackled with electricity, shrieking and roaring in terror.
The sails surged in wave-like pulses, like a beast's fur awakened by fierce wind. Each massive wave crash sent explosive cracks through the ship's hull.
The Dragonsteed, a thousand-ton twin-masted warship with a deep hull and towering fore and aft castles, bore atop its prow a monstrous statue—a fusion of horse and dragon. As flagship, how could it lack a symbol proclaiming its queen's dominion?
Even such a mighty vessel trembled under nature's wrath. The smaller warships fared far worse.
The storm tore the fleet from its course. Above them, swirling black clouds pressed down, lightning split the skies, thunder roared like the gods mocking human frailty.
Most men slipped into madness, screaming in terror without end.
What power of man could stand against the wrath of gods? Ship captains shouted desperately, ordering everyone below deck to avoid dying needlessly above.
Daenerys Targaryen's sheer silk gown clung to her, soaked through—but she felt an inexplicable thrill.
Missandei shouted for her to take shelter, but the Dragonmother could not hear—only nature's roar filled her ears.
Years ago, Daenerys had been born wailing on distant Dragonstone, during the greatest storm Westeros had ever seen. That storm had shattered gargoyles on castle walls and destroyed her father's fleet, hastening the fall of House Targaryen.
No storm could frighten Daenerys. She was, after all, the Stormborn.
Still, this storm was terrifying—perhaps one never before seen in history. Drogo dared not be careless. He stumbled to his wife's side. "It's time to hide," the Horse King said softly, pulling her back below deck.
Water in the hold was knee-deep, but it was still safer than the deck. After settling Daenerys, Drogo ignored her protests and returned to the storm.
He was a king. If he did not lead by example in this cataclysm, how could he inspire his warriors? The fate of the entire fleet was at stake.
With help from Admiral Collinthar, Drogo took the helm, shouting until his voice broke, steering the Dragonsteed into the wind and out of the volcanic kill zone.
Other captains watched the flagship closely. Seeing it escape, those with intact ships followed suit, fleeing the deathly Coral Isles.
With the volcanic threat gone, sailors and captains breathed easier.
But the reprieve was brief—a greater terror rose from the sea.
"Whirlpool!"
At the center of the fleet, a swirling vortex spun faster and larger. It was as if Thor's staff was sealed within it—bolts of annihilating lightning shot out, striking nearby ships.
Four warships, unable to resist the pull, were dragged into the abyss, shattered by lightning and spat out in pieces as if the whirlpool itself rejected their wreckage.
Terror gripped the sailors. They begged the helmsmen to flee this cursed place.
"We mustn't let the western wind drag us in!" Captain Collinthar roared. "Lower the sails! Hard to starboard!"
Drogo and several crew rushed to turn the wheel, straining rightward—but it barely helped. The ship remained trapped.
As despair set in, "Screeeeech!" The demon dragons soared above the whirlpool, wings thunderous, and unleashed spiraling flame into the abyss.
Miraculously, the whirlpool began to contract, its pull weakening.
Joy surged among the crew. They steered hard to starboard.
And when it came to raw strength, who better than the giant Roman? Nearly snapping the wheel with his grip, he helped turn the Dragonsteed away—first to escape death.
But before they could catch their breath, "SCREE!" A piercing shriek, louder than a dragon's roar, exploded from the whirlpool, echoing for miles, bursting eardrums.
Then, two blood-red beams of light burst from the sea in a tremendous geyser, tearing through the black clouds and crashing down on the fleet like a falling galaxy.
As the waters receded, a terrifying creature emerged in their blurred vision—two long horns atop its head, a jagged, beak-like maw filled with gleaming fangs, eyes glowing with red light. It was like a giant blue serpent, covered in deep indigo scales.
It had no claws but bore vast fins like wings—enough to soar the skies. It crackled with electricity like an eel.
Captain Collinthar collapsed in terror, muttering in despair as he clung to Drogo, "Naga. It's Naga the Sea Dragon! The mightiest beast born of the sea. We're finished!"
Drogo was shocked. He had heard the legend.
Naga, the first sea dragon, devoured sea monsters and sea beasts. The Greyjoys of the Iron Islands claimed their ancestor, the Grey King of the Age of Heroes, had slain it himself. The Drowned God turned its bones into fossils so the Ironborn would never forget their forebear's triumph.
Naga's ribs became the beams of the Grey King's hall. Its jaws became his throne. Its teeth formed his pale, towering crown.
The tales Drogo knew were from the Dawn Age, when warriors ruled the seas, unstoppable. The Grey King had preserved Naga's fire, and his hall was forever warm.
But those glorious days were gone. The Ironborn had shrunk. Life was fleeting. When the Grey King died, the Storm God swiftly extinguished Naga's fire.
Today, his hall rotted away—only Naga's bones remained, a monument to a fading age.
Drogo stared at the massive serpent, estimating it to be over a hundred meters long, with a girth as wide as a fishing boat. His demon dragons were children next to it.
Legends claimed that when Naga was enraged, it could swallow an island. Drogo thought that was exaggerated—but destroying one seemed plausible.
He suspected all the disasters they'd faced were tied to this legendary beast—nearly as infamous as the dragons themselves.
A thought crossed his mind: in his past life, he'd heard of a creature named Naga too—half-serpent, humanoid, scaled, and female. Those Nagas were said to be beautiful, like mermaids.
"This Naga must not be the same. Just a serpentine sea monster, right?"
He spoke aloud, but no one answered. No one knew, and no one had the time to care.
"SCREE!"
Suddenly, the monstrous Naga let out another shriek, lightning crackling across its body, and dove menacingly toward them.
Drogo saw blood-red light flash across the deck—Naga's target was clearly Dragonsteed.
But he felt this wasn't Naga's will. Rather, it was the beautiful mermaid Haixi clinging to the sea dragon's horns!
"Drogon, Rhaegal, Viserion—you're the pride of your kin. Let your flames incinerate this sea monster!"
His dragons didn't fully understand—but even without Drogo's command, they would've fought. As apex predators, they tolerated no challenger.
"BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!"
Dragonfire roared like floodgates bursting, three streams pouring onto the monstrous Naga.
The sea dragon answered with lightning fierce enough to snap a mast in half.
CRACK! CRACKLE! BOOM!
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