he demonic dragons appeared savage and brutish, but in truth, they were highly intelligent. It was as if they instinctively knew that using claws to seize or subdue the massive, wet, and slippery sea dragon would be useless, so instead, they spewed dragonfire that lit up the skies, flapping their wings to match the movement of Naggа's enormous body.
Golden-orange, amber-yellow, and red-black flames spiraled downward from the mouths of the powerful predators. Naggа, with her white belly and blue back, unleashed violent arcs of lightning in all directions. She twisted her massive body with unbelievable agility, slipping past the molten fire; at most, only her scales got grazed!
The sea dragon's body radiated arcs of electricity from every inch. Her methods of attack and defense left no blind spots for ordinary enemies—but these were demonic dragons, near-divine beings!
Perched atop Naggа's back, Haixi was shrouded in flowing electricity. Her light blue hair stood on end like a crown of lightning, making her look like a goddess of storms, awe-inspiring and divine.
Together, she and the sea dragon were a terrifying force that could shatter any mortal's will to resist—anyone except the demonic dragons and the Father of Dragons.
The demonic dragons were powerful, and their keen, natural senses told them that the mighty sea monster wasn't invincible. If she had been, driven by their beastly instincts, they would have turned tail and fled the moment Naggа roared.
As for Drogo, equally wild in spirit, he feared neither heaven nor earth. Legendary beasts? Gods walking the earth? None of it would make him kneel and wait for death!
But as a human—even a King among Men—he couldn't alter the course of the battle. The flaming boulders hurled by trebuchets, the piercing arrows loosed from crossbows—all of it was utterly ineffective against the sea dragon. Even touching her was a distant dream.
Lightning carried a force more violent than fire, but the demonic dragons' scales were unimaginably tough. When the arcs struck them, only tiny sparks and faint smoke puffed up. The actual damage to the three beasts was negligible.
Unlike humans, who would be paralyzed or scorched by electrocution, the dragons felt nothing—because their flesh was made of fire.
Lightning generates intense heat when it contacts matter, a force not unlike the dragons' own flames. When the currents entered their bodies, they simply fueled the dragons further, increasing the reserve and intensity of their inner flame.
The mermaid Haixi was clearly a seasoned dragon rider—or perhaps more accurately, a "dragon clinger." Though she had only a colorful fish tail and no legs, she could maintain perfect balance on Naggа's slippery, undulating back. Calm and poised, she commanded the sea monster in an arcane tongue to dodge the hellfire.
Naggа's lightning could not harm the demonic dragons, and their flames were barely effective against her. The moment dragonfire licked her smooth, luminous skin, it was instantly extinguished by the water seeping from her body.
But Drogo, ever observant, noticed something telling: dragonfire could harm Naggа—because if it couldn't, why would Haixi go to such lengths to guide her away from it?
"If the dragonfire clung to her for, say, ten seconds," Drogo thought, "then that massive body of hers would surely show wounds. But she's slippery and agile like a sea serpent. How do we get her to hold still?"
His gaze drifted gradually toward the breathtaking Haixi, following her every move.
But in his heart, there was no lust left for the mermaid—only the will to kill.
Without hesitation, the Father of Dragons identified the key to wounding—or even slaying—Naggа: knock Haixi off her back.
Clearly, Naggа's intellect was low. She relied entirely on Haixi's continual guidance to evade the dragonfire.
But Drogo faced a problem—he didn't have wings. He couldn't soar through the skies like his children.
Riding a dragon himself right now would be like forcing a duck to swim upstream. The juvenile dragons could barely carry the petite Daenerys. If he climbed aboard, both he and the dragon would fall into the sea and die.
If he couldn't fly, how could he drag that sorceress off Naggа's back?
The demonic dragons were intelligent, but training them took time—time to wear in obedience gradually.
Drogo reckoned that it would take several more years before they could fully understand his commands. Right now, just getting them to breathe fire and respond to his proximity was the limit of their ability.
Even so, despite Naggа's ability to weave through fire with ease, Drogo's youngest dragon continued to surprise him.
"Boom! Crackle!"
To his astonishment, the fledgling managed to absorb the lightning and refine it into dragonfire infused with electrical power. Drogo's heart swelled with pride.
Carefully analyzing the battle, his only real fear was that the tiny dragon—barely the size of a foal—would be swallowed whole by Naggа!
The sea dragon's serpentine body was easily the size of a fishing boat, and her massive head could gulp down one of his children without issue.
But he had no way of helping. All he could do was silently cheer for his child and pray.
The warship rocked and swayed wildly. Clutching the helm was a survival instinct for Drogo. Wet wooden surfaces conducted electricity all too well. With this storm-wracked electric field overhead, luck alone wouldn't save him forever.
"Zzzzt!"
Suddenly, a rare rolling thunderbolt skittered across the deck and surged up the helm, leaping onto Drogo's body. His limbs seized from the shock—but he wasn't electrocuted or scorched. In fact, he was still brimming with life.
As arcs of lightning danced across his skin, a mad idea struck him.
The sky is the dragon's true domain.
The battle between Naggа and the demonic dragons continued to climb higher and higher, until they merged with the storm-thick thunderclouds.
The scene was both terrifying and magnificent. And as the dragons' firestorms swept across the skies, those doomsday-black clouds began to part, revealing a sea of stars and a bright, full moon overhead.
With the black clouds blown away, the dancing lightning vanished. The torrential rain, like a falling galaxy, ceased. The fierce winds began to weaken, and the once-heaving sea gradually calmed.
The helmsmen—veteran pirates with rich sailing experience—saw the favorable shift and shouted with joy:
"Raise the sails! Man the oars! Full speed westward!"
Hope had returned. The crew, once despairing, threw themselves into their duties, driving what ships still floated as swiftly as they could toward the intended destination.
Although the Dragonsteed had been targeted most by Haixi, it was far sturdier than the other vessels. It wouldn't sink. But Drogo had no intention of leaving.
Before acting on his madness, he had to ensure nothing would hold him back. Glancing around, he saw that all those who had panicked had fled below deck. Only one man remained: the commander of the Unsullied, gripping the mast and watching the mythic battle unfold.
Drogo bellowed to him:
"Grey Worm! Order the crew to lower the lifeboats from the bottom hold. Everyone is to board and rendezvous with the nearest Morro warship. And remember— you must bring the Queen to safety!"
"At once, Your Grace!"
Grey Worm nodded. He cast one last, reluctant glance at the skies, then turned from the mast and sprinted toward the stairwell.
But after descending only two steps, a chilling thought struck him. He turned sharply and shouted:
"Your Grace—aren't you coming with us!?"
Drogo's gaze never wavered. His eyes locked onto the battle between the sea dragon and the demonic dragons. His face was resolute. His voice, cold and determined:
"The sky is the true limit of the Dragon King!"
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🐉 Dragon King of Ice and Fire
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