The energy of Bloodfire Magic could not only enhance one's bloodline and raise the upper limits of magical power, but also serve to cultivate stronger dragons.
However, the rapid rise of the Valyrians eventually drew the attention of the Lord of Light, R'hllor.
As one of the strongest and oldest gods in the world, the Lord of Light naturally would not stand by and watch as the Valyrians developed and expanded without restraint. He realized that if the Valyrians were allowed to continue strengthening their power, they could one day pose a threat to the balance and order of the entire world.
Thus, the Lord of Light decided to take action.
Ultimately, he unleashed a massive natural disaster that buried the entire Valyrian Peninsula beneath raging flames. The power of that catastrophe was immense, almost completely annihilating all of the Dragonlord families.
Out of the forty Dragonlord houses that once existed in Valyria, only one—the Targaryen family, the weakest and lowest among them—managed to survive the cataclysm.
Rayder couldn't help but feel suspicious about the Targaryens' survival. He believed there must have been some hidden purpose or intent behind it, perhaps an arrangement by the Lord of Light himself.
It was possible, Rayder thought, that the Lord of Light had deliberately spared the Targaryen family, intending for them to reach Westeros and stand as the defenders of mankind against the coming army of the Others.
After all, the Targaryens possessed an ancient and powerful bloodline, along with unique magical abilities. They might indeed become the key force against the Cold God's army.
Rayder's thoughts raced like a wild horse. Dozens of possibilities and conspiracies flashed through his mind.
The Cold God and the Red God stood as eternal opposites—two of the oldest and most powerful deities known to this world. Their domains, ice and fire, were incompatible by nature. To Rayder, it seemed these two gods occupied positions of absolute dominance in the divine hierarchy, while many other deities were merely background figures or pieces in their endless conflict.
Rayder frowned slightly. Was the rise of the Valyrians truly a coincidence?
The source of Bloodfire Magic, if examined carefully, was tied to the element of fire itself—and wasn't the Red God the very embodiment of that power?
Then could it be that the Valyrians' rise had been quietly guided—perhaps even engineered—by the Red God?
After all, R'hllor's power was closely linked to fire, and the Valyrians' command over Bloodfire Magic was unmatched. The connection between the two was simply too strong to ignore.
In that case, the Valyrians might have been nothing more than a chess piece cultivated by the Red God to oppose the Cold God's designs.
At some point, however, that chess piece must have gone out of control—its ambitions growing too great. And when that happened, the Red God likely destroyed it without hesitation, burning Valyria to ash in a single, merciless act.
Even so, for reasons unknown, the Red God had still spared the Targaryen family.
Rayder pieced the possibilities together in his mind. The Targaryens, he thought, might very well be the final piece deliberately left behind by the Red God to counter the Night King—the Cold God's greatest servant and instrument of destruction.
The Night King represented death and endless winter. The Targaryens, with their dragons and their fiery bloodline, were his natural opposites—living embodiments of flame and life. The balance between them mirrored the eternal war between their divine patrons.
The thought filled Rayder with unease.
The gods stood high above, manipulating the fate of all beings below, as if they were merely pawns on an enormous chessboard. The idea that his own destiny—and perhaps the fate of the world—was being toyed with by unseen hands left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Is this what a god truly is? Rayder wondered. Powerful beyond imagination, yet willing to use mortals like tools?
Their power was undeniable, but was such ruthless manipulation worthy of the title "god"?
He found himself thinking back to his previous life. He remembered reading that the genetic similarity between humans and gorillas or monkeys was as high as ninety-eight percent.
And yet, despite such similarity, humans never regarded them as equals. Instead, humans often exploited or destroyed them without remorse.
Not only that—within humanity itself, countless wars and massacres had been fought over differences in race, belief, and skin color.
Rayder sighed inwardly. If such cruelty exists even among humans, why would gods—beings far above us—ever treat mortals as equals?
With that realization, much of the world's cruelty suddenly seemed to make sense.
His thoughts drifted again, this time to Bloodfire Magic itself.
The Valyrians had refined this art from the inherited traits of the so-called "dragon blood." Those born with the blood of dragons possessed a natural affinity for magic and could form a special connection with dragons themselves. It was as though their blood resonated with the dragons' very souls.
The purer one's dragon blood, the easier it became to awaken magical power. This was why the Dragonlord families of Valyria had practiced incest—to preserve and concentrate their bloodline.
Once magic was awakened, those bearing true dragon blood would find both their physical capabilities and their intellect greatly enhanced. Their strength, wisdom, and vitality would all rise together, and through that power, they could access knowledge and memories inherited within the bloodline itself.
It was said that within every drop of true dragon blood lay fragments of ancient Valyrian knowledge, passed down from generation to generation.
But to unlock that inheritance required two things: a sufficiently pure bloodline, and a large enough reservoir of magical power. Only when both conditions were met could one truly open the door to the ancestral wisdom sealed within their blood.
Rayder smiled wryly. Despite all his progress, he had only gained minor improvements in strength and intellect—proof of how difficult it was to reach that threshold.
As he pondered these thoughts, a sudden, deep roar echoed through the air outside his tent.
It was low, majestic, and powerful—like thunder rumbling across a stormy sky.
Rayder froze for a moment, then his expression brightened instantly. He recognized that sound.
It was Yigen's roar.
After days of waiting, the dragon had finally awakened.
A surge of joy flooded Rayder's heart. He leapt to his feet and rushed out of the tent.
The sight that met his eyes nearly took his breath away.
Before him stood Yigen—massive and awe-inspiring, his crimson body glinting faintly under the pale sunlight. He stood unsteadily on all four limbs, his enormous wings half-spread, casting a shadow so vast it seemed to blanket the entire mountaintop.
However, despite his imposing figure, Yigen's movements were awkward and clumsy, like a newborn creature learning to walk for the first time. His talons scraped against the rocky ground, and his wings flapped unevenly, stirring gusts of wind that howled across the peak.
Rayder could tell that Yigen hadn't yet adapted to his new form. The Titan bloodline had transformed him completely—he was larger, stronger, and different in structure.
Through their mental bond, Rayder reached out with calm reassurance, sending Yigen steady, guiding thoughts.
"Fold your wings," he instructed gently. "Lower your stance. Feel the ground beneath you."
Yigen responded instinctively. Slowly, the great dragon retracted his wings, adjusting his balance as his massive body steadied itself.
Rayder smiled faintly. "Good… just like that."
Within moments, Yigen began to move more naturally, his motions growing smoother and more confident. The clumsy creature from moments ago now stood tall and firm, his deep crimson scales glinting with vitality.
Satisfied, Rayder decided it was time for the next step—flight.
He closed his eyes briefly and focused his thoughts. Yigen, let's see how far your new wings can take you.
Through the mental link, Yigen understood. He spread his enormous wings once more, their span vast enough to block the sun. The gust that followed nearly knocked Rayder backward.
Still, he couldn't suppress his excitement.
"Easy now," Rayder reminded. "Im, watch him from above and keep the air clear."
Black Dragon Im let out a guttural roar in acknowledgment, circling higher to give Yigen room to rise.
Yigen's first attempt was hesitant. His massive body lifted slightly, then dropped again, sending waves of dust scattering across the peak. He growled lowly, frustration echoing through their bond.
Rayder chuckled softly. "Patience. You've just awakened—you'll remember soon."
Taking a deep breath, Yigen spread his wings again and leapt forward. This time, the wind caught beneath his wings properly. With a powerful downward sweep, he soared upward, breaking free of the mountain's edge.
Rayder shielded his eyes from the wind as he watched Yigen climb into the sky.
The sight was magnificent—his dragon, reborn and stronger than ever, streaked across the heavens with thunderous power.
At first, Yigen's movements were still a bit stiff. The additional front limbs—newly grown from the Titan bloodline—threw off his balance slightly. He flapped unevenly, wobbling through the air like a ship battling rough waves.
But as minutes passed, Yigen began to adjust. His movements became fluid, his wings cutting cleanly through the sky.
Each beat of his wings sent shockwaves through the air, his massive shadow sweeping across the frozen landscape below.
Rayder's heart swelled with pride.
The Titan Dragon had truly been born.
---Ãdvåñçé çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn (Gk31)