Rhaenys understood all too well that if the current stalemate persisted, the only inevitable outcome would be her being torn apart by the three dragons circling ominously above. The danger was palpable, a razor's edge between life and death.Without hesitation, she made a swift and decisive decision. Raising her voice firmly, she ordered her dragon, the Red Queen Meleys, "Go!"At once, Meleys obeyed. The colossal beast pivoted gracefully but with urgency, turning away from the looming threat. With a powerful thrust of her mighty wings, Meleys launched herself into the sky like a streak of burning red lightning, quickly widening the gap between herself and Rayder's side.Rhaenys could not suppress a quiet sigh of relief. She was grateful she had consciously maintained a safe distance earlier—her observation had afforded them precious seconds to prepare and enough room to take off without faltering.Below, Rayder watched the Red Queen's sudden retreat with a faint, amused smile playing on his lips. He hadn't truly intended to slay her. His earlier aggression and sharp threats had been nothing more than a test, a probe of her limits and resolve.Now that she had wisely withdrawn, he saw no reason to give chase. What would it accomplish? Was he really interested in starting a full-scale battle over a half-hearted "welcome"? No, that was not his style.Leaning back, he allowed his eyes to linger thoughtfully on the receding figure of the Red Queen as she soared further away. The Targaryen family, from their reactions, clearly did not welcome his arrival. The cold hostility was unmistakable, even if tempered with caution.But upon reflection, Rayder found this unsurprising. If he were merely another lost descendant of the Dragon Lord lineage, stripped of prestige and abandoned by history—a "poor relative" with no claim or identity—he doubted he would have received any reception at all upon stepping foot in Westeros.The three dragons he commanded changed everything.Those majestic beasts, especially the enigmatic three-headed dragon known as Kidora, were living symbols of power, deterring even the proud Targaryens from underestimating him.The family's fear and wariness, their readiness to drive him off with force, likely stemmed from a deep dread that this mysterious "outsider fish" might stir the stagnant waters of their dominion—disrupting the peace they had maintained and threatening the fragile foundation of their rule.Yet Rayder himself bore no immediate desire to topple anyone or seize power by force. His only goal now was pragmatic: to gather energy points quickly and efficiently. The idea of abducting dragons from others remained, for the moment, only a distant concept.Still, he could not help but smile inwardly at the Targaryen family's cautious response. Their suspicion, he realized, was not entirely baseless.Having distanced himself to a safe range, Rhaenys finally slowed her pace, allowing herself a glance back to ensure no dragon pursued her. Seeing none, the tension in her chest eased, and she let out a long, breathy sigh.But while her body relaxed, the doubts inside her mind blossomed uncontrollably like weeds in fertile soil. That silver-haired youth—Rayder—was a puzzle wrapped in mysteries. The ability to control not one, but three dragons simultaneously was unprecedented in the long and storied history of the Targaryen family.The three-headed dragon, in particular, caught her attention. Its form mirrored the family's heraldic symbol of three intertwined dragons—an eerie coincidence that could not be ignored."This is no mere chance," she thought grimly. "This man is a variable—a wild card that could upend the balance of power we have maintained for generations."Resolute, she resolved to return immediately to report what she had seen and heard to the other family members, especially King Jaehaerys himself. Such a threat could not be dismissed or underestimated. The safety and future of the family might well depend on swift and decisive action.Meanwhile, Rayder had settled on the ground and conducted a thorough check of his surroundings, ensuring there was no immediate danger nearby. Satisfied, he began unpacking dried food and jerky from his system's storage space—carefully rationing out nourishment to his three dragons.One by one, he offered the sustenance to Kidora, Im, and Yigen, ensuring they ate heartily to maintain their strength and vitality. These enormous beasts were not merely weapons of war; they were his companions and his greatest reliance. Their health was paramount to his plans and survival.After feeding them, Rayder gently stroked Im's neck, his gaze drifting towards the horizon. When they had landed, he had noticed the Narrow Sea not far away—the vast azure stretch of water separating the eastern and western continents.If he could cross that sea, he would soon arrive at Dragonstone—the ancient fortress and stronghold of the Targaryen family."Having allowed Rhaenys to return safely, I wonder what kind of welcome awaits me at Dragonstone," Rayder mused quietly.He knew he had already blown his cover. Rhaenys's immediate flight would mean she would report his presence, and the anomalies surrounding his dragons, to the family's high command without delay."Westeros, and particularly the Targaryen family," he thought with a tightening grip on his resolve, "will soon have to reckon with me.""If I truly want to establish a foothold here and carve out my own power, I will have to face them head-on."He understood all too well that only by demonstrating real strength could he force them to take him seriously, rather than scattering like frightened prey at the slightest sign of disturbance.That path, he knew, would be thorny and fraught with danger. There would be many enemies, and few allies.But Rayder had no other choice. Memories from his past life, coupled with the experiences of his current existence, had taught him the hard truth: survival required strength. To protect those he cared about, he must be strong enough to command respect and carve out his place before anyone else.Dragonstone awaited—a fortress steeped in history and power, and perhaps the proving ground of his destiny.As Rhaenys and her Red Queen Meleys soared across the sky, they streaked like a fiery meteor blazing a trail across the horizon. The Narrow Sea spread out beneath them, a vast blue expanse, its wind carrying the salty tang of the ocean into their nostrils.Soon, the familiar outline of Dragonstone appeared on the distant horizon.But Rhaenys did not hesitate or slow her pace. Meleys's enormous wings beat the air with renewed vigor, propelling them swiftly onward—towards King's Landing, the beating heart of the realm.The harsh wind howled past her ears, but it could not calm the storm of thoughts swirling relentlessly in her mind.Her mind replayed the image of Rayder's calm demeanor, the terrifying sight of his three dragons circling above with unyielding power.Especially that three-headed dragon—it was a symbol not just of brute strength, but a deep and secret call from the bloodline itself, stirring echoes of an ancient legacy.This was no random event. It was a massive unknown—a potential earthquake shaking the foundations of everything she thought she knew.As she crossed the Narrow Sea and approached King's Landing, a heavy, suffocating atmosphere enveloped her, more oppressive than the sea wind.She could sense the restless currents beneath the city—the mounting tensions, the growing rifts between factions, the nation on the edge of collapse.The brutal struggle for succession had stripped away all pretense of civility, revealing only ruthless ambition and bloodthirsty intent.Her husband, Corlys Velaryon—the man who had been gentle and tender in their private moments—was now a commander, ready to defend his son Lannino's fragile claim to the throne.He had gathered a powerful fleet, a force prepared to back their claim with iron and blood if necessary.At the same time, Prince Daemon Targaryen—the Knight, and the second son of Baelon—had rallied a band of mercenaries. Like predators waiting in the shadows, they lurked with a merciless hunger to pounce at the first sign of weakness.Rhaenys's heart was heavy with the weight of these looming conflicts, even as the winds of destiny carried her onwards.-
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