After fifteen days and nights of torment, the Laughing Lion finally sailed into the land abandoned by the gods.
The seawater continuously boiled and churned, emitting a pungent, putrid odor.
Thick, unyielding, pale smoke rose from the sea, coiling around the hull and obscuring the sky.
The air was hot and heavy; each breath felt like swallowing scorching sand.
"The… Sea of Smoke…"
A sailor's teeth chattered, his face ashen.
In the depths of the mist, shadowy outlines writhed in the pallid light, like collapsing spires or the skeletons of gigantic beasts.
From time to time, bloodcurdling screeches echoed from the mist-shrouded "islands" all around, piercing eardrums and tearing at nerves.
The guards' hands trembled on their spears, their knuckles white on their bows.
Even Lainede, with his scarred face and usually grim, ruthless eyes, showed a shadow of wavering for the first time.
A few days later, the plague descended.
First, several sailors turned ashen, like drowned men, then their skin took on a strange, shrimp-red hue, their lips swelled purple, their eye sockets became sunken, and dark blue veins protruded and snaked beneath their skin.
They suffered from high fever, vomiting, and incessant diarrhea, emitting the sweet, metallic smell of smoldering flesh, their desperate wails echoing in the lower hold.
"Throw these people overboard!"
Gillian commanded, not even glancing at their grotesque, miserable state.
The infected were mercilessly cast into the boiling, grayish-yellow sea, instantly swallowed by the churning foam.
The ship's population sharply dwindled; in the eyes of the survivors, only numbness or the brink of madness remained.
Only Liu Qian, deep in his heart, silently counted the numbers flickering on his interface:
[Magic Power: +10…+15…+25…]
As he expected, the Valyrian Ruins were imbued with magic, and the concentration of magic power far exceeded that of the outside world, making it a natural breeding ground for magical creatures. The deeper they ventured into the Sea of Smoke, the faster the numbers climbed!
On the tenth day, the number settled at:
[Magic Power: 450/500]
On the eleventh morning, the anchor finally sank into a shallow beach covered with sharp black reefs.
Gillian squinted at the hazy shore, issuing an order that shattered the last shred of hope for all the crew members: "Launch the small boats, we're going ashore!"
His feet on the slippery, scorching grayish-brown "beach," Lainede could no longer endure his inner fear.
From the first day he stepped into the Sea of Smoke, his heart felt as if it were gripped by a large hand, suffocating him.
His life as a mercenary had tempered his will, but it was no match for the sights he had witnessed in the Valyrian Ruins over just half a month.
The terrifying scenes here made him desperately want to flee.
He grabbed Gillian's leather armor collar, his rose-red scar glowing with angry congestion: "Madman! In Volantis, you swore you'd find a sword! You confidently said you'd succeed, and now? Look at this place, this is definitely hell! Where are the treasures of Valyria?! All I see are countless terrifying plagues that devour life, and hear the cries of monsters hidden in the shadows! Are you really looking for treasure or do you want everyone to die with you?!"
Gillian coldly slapped his hand away and pulled out a scorched parchment map from his Pregnant: "Open your eyes and look, 'Eagle' of House Maegor."
He kicked away the loose soil with the tip of his boot, revealing a large, flat black stone brick underneath, the seams so tight that a blade couldn't be inserted.
"This is the Dragon Road. The place it leads to is where you'll find the Valyrian steel you dream of."
Lainede Maegor's breath hitched. The map depicted the full extent of Valyria; he would bet this single map was worth a million gold coins.
The rush of blood to his head revealed his undisguised greed for the long-coveted map, but remembering that this Lannister was accompanied by dozens of guards, he suppressed his thoughts and looked on patiently.
The map showed that their group was on the western shore of the island where Valyria was located, and beneath their feet was a white avenue paved with marble bricks. If they followed the Dragon Road eastward, they could reach the legendary Valyria.
At the thought of Valyrian weapons and armor filling his coffers, Lainede's heart swelled with excitement.
The humiliation of being from a collateral branch of his family, and his greed for treasure, finally overwhelmed his fear.
He spat, a gesture of tacit approval.
The Lannister issued the order, and the party advanced along the Dragon Road.
The "Dragon Road," paved with massive square bricks, still displayed miraculous craftsmanship after four hundred years, mocking the crudeness of later civilizations.
Along both sides of the road, twisted dead trees clawed at the gray sky, and remnants of gray-veined marble lay half-buried in the grayish-brown scorched earth.
The air smelled only of sulfur and ash.
Liu Qian followed in the latter half of the group, his cold eyes scanning his surroundings, every step treading on taut nerves.
The faint bloodline within him gave him keen perceptive abilities; he could feel something moving in the depths of the mist, greedy gazes licking at their backs, yet still not making a move.
Liu Qian dared not relax; he maintained absolute focus, certain that if monstrous creatures leaped out from the dead trees, he would be the only one to retreat to the very end, shielding everyone in front of him.
The party had walked for less than half a day when Gillian and Lainede halted their advance, announcing they would make camp there.
Sure enough, an accident occurred.
While setting up camp, a Lhazareen slave disappeared into the mist at the edge of the dead trees. His companion wailed heartbreakingly in Lhazareen to Gillian, begging him to search for his friend, but this request was coldly refused by Gillian.
At this moment, Lainede leaned close to Gillian, his voice a low, trembling whisper: "Gillian, you've noticed it, haven't you? They're following us. I mean the things in the dead trees, those monsters have been trailing us ever since we landed this morning!"
His mercenary life had given him keen senses; he had noticed something following them in the dead trees very early on.
"It means there aren't enough of them, or they're not strong enough, otherwise these fellows would have already attacked," Gillian said nonchalantly, his blue eyes gleaming in the twilight, his steady tone betraying immense confidence.
Lainede's mouth twitched. He cursed Gillian's arrogance in his heart, his tone full of sarcasm and dissatisfaction: "Sometimes I don't know if you're truly confident or just putting on a brave face. These fellows are clearly assessing the weight of their prey one by one! Think about it, are such intelligent predators jackals or lions? Can you guarantee you'll escape from the jaws of these beasts?!"
"Is that so, Lainede? A pack of hungry beasts has frightened the 'Eagle' of House Maegor into wetting his pants? I tell you, the treasures of Valyria are worth this risk. If they are jackals, I will roast them for tonight's dinner. If they are lions, I don't mind presenting my brother with a prime Valyrian pelt when I return to Casterly Rock.
Are you content to peck at carrion on the outskirts of the ruins? Don't you want to go to Valyria and see? To witness what kind of immense power could cause the once-flourishing Valyrian civilization to make a silent exit? Perhaps we will find a few handy weapons, perhaps we will discover dragon eggs, becoming figures talked about with relish in taverns from the Seven Kingdoms to the Free Cities."
Lainede was speechless. He found his strengths lay in battlefields and arenas, in blades and combat skills, not in playing word games with Gillian.
But honestly, Gillian's words still stirred a strong impulse within him.
His inner greed enticed him to Valyria to seize treasures.
Gold, jewels, weapons, even dragon eggs—he would refuse nothing.
Night soon fell, and the party had to halt their advance once more.
Gillian strictly forbade the lighting of campfires to prevent attracting more malevolent creatures.
However, not long after darkness descended, a corner of the camp suddenly erupted with inhuman, piercing screams.
A sailor was engulfed in a strange, bright yellow flame, his skin melting and dripping like wax, his flesh sizzling in the inferno.
He rolled through the camp like a human torch, illuminating the surrounding tents and canvas like a scroll from hell.
Gillian rushed over upon hearing the news. Before he could discern the reason, he let out a furious roar: "Put it out! Quick!"
But his roar was ultimately drowned out by the screams.
It was an incredibly piercing sound that made the souls of everyone present tremble.
No one dared approach the flames. Gillian's guards came over and told him what had happened.
It turned out that an old sailor had spontaneously combusted during camp setup, turning into his current state.
The horrifying story from the guard's mouth instantly darkened Gillian's face.
Liu Qian, standing among the crowd, immediately realized that this was somewhat similar to what had happened to Princess Aerea in his memories.
The flames eventually died down, leaving behind only a curled, charred remains, wisps of smoke carrying the stench of burned flesh.
In the dead silence, a grating, teeth-grinding hissing sound came from inside the charred corpse, immediately confirming Liu Qian's suspicion.
Pffft!
A crimson, grotesque maggot, as thick as a baby's arm, pushed aside the charred ribs and wriggled out.
Its body, covered in viscous liquid, was disturbingly embedded with a twisted, weeping human face.
Below the human face, four tiny appendages frantically clawed at the bone fragments of the corpse, greedily sucking.
Then, a second, a third… "Disgusting things!"
Lainede, who had arrived, was so provoked by the sight that his sanity snapped. He drew his sword and angrily hacked, as if seeking revenge.
The sword flashed down, and a human-faced maggot was instantly cut in half, thick, lava-like crimson pus splattering out!
"Don't get close! Idiot! Stop!" Gillian's warning was half a step too late.
The weeping human faces on the bodies of the human-faced maggots splattered with pus suddenly twisted into extreme malevolence.
They raised their insect bodies, and their hissing screams abruptly intensified, becoming a sharp, glass-scraping shriek.
A look of vengeful satisfaction had just appeared on Lainede's face—
Whoosh!
Several thin, yellowish viscous streams of fire shot out from the insects' mouths, precisely drenching his astonished face.
"Argh—!!!"
An inhuman scream tore through the night sky.
Lainede became the second furiously dancing human torch.
He futilely clawed at his cheeks, his flesh rapidly carbonizing and peeling away in the yellow flames, revealing his stark white cheekbones.
He staggered, engulfed in the burning flames, extending his charred, claw-like fingers towards Gillian, the only one who remained calm, pleading from his throat.
His guards exchanged glances, wanting to rescue him yet helpless.
Gillian took a step back expressionlessly, his blue eyes cold to the bone: "Archers, fire!"
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—!
The guards' arrows, dense as locusts, pinned the remaining human-faced maggots along with Lainede's charred, twitching remains to the scorched earth.
The insect corpses convulsed, and pus seeped into the ground.
No one saw as a dozen faint, crimson lights floated up from the insect corpses, passing like ghosts through the startled crowd, and suddenly plunged into Liu Qian's chest!
[Dragon Spirit +140! Dragon Bloodline Purity: 0.06%! Magic Power Cap increased to 640! Current Magic Power: 460/640!]
The cold notification exploded within Liu Qian with a lava-like burning sensation. He forcibly suppressed the low growl that almost escaped his lips, his fingernails digging deeper into his palm.
Just then, a sudden change occurred.
At a cold glance from Gillian, Lainede's guards had their throats slit from behind by their former "comrades."
Gillian's men hastily dragged their bodies into the dead trees for burning and burial, allowing their bloodstains to be greedily absorbed by the scorched earth.
"Their master is dead; they would surely try to escape. Killing them prevents them from taking our ship."
Gillian offered a brief explanation to the remaining sailors.
His cruel gaze swept over the terrified slaves and sailors, the warning unmistakable.
Liu Qian, hidden among the crowd, was still immersed in the joy of acquiring Dragon Spirit, while secretly cursing this Lannister thoroughly.
This Lannister had no bottom line, he was ruthless and merciless, truly having mastered Tywin's methods to perfection.