Greyish-white smoke drifted from the summit of Dragonstone, a place not entirely stable as an active volcano.
Gendry, Lothor, Anguy, and others, wearing simple studded vests, found climbing the high mountain and delving into caves to be strenuous physical labor, especially on an active volcanic terrain. Gendry's sword belt also carried a hammer and orphan-maker, a dagger.
Dragonstone was steep and perilous, like a chaotic growth of gums. The mountain appeared dark and black, with only grey smoke plumes rising from it. This area was not suitable for horses, so they proceeded on foot, navigating narrow stone paths.
"I wonder how the Valyrians managed to live in this volcanic terrain back then," Anguy grumbled as he walked. "The smoke and fire must have shortened their lives considerably. They even built great cities near the Fourteen Flames."
Lothor, on the other hand, remained silent; he was always reserved and dependable.
The salty and sulfurous air of Dragonstone made Anguy very uncomfortable. He came from the verdant The Marches, a place with no shortage of trees and rain.
"Perhaps it was fire, the magic of fire," Gendry chuckled. The fire-wielder ring on his hand slowly absorbed the heat from the air, invisibly providing him with a protective barrier. The red gem on his finger emitted a burning sensation, as if cheering. Through the ring's effect, Gendry and his companions could avoid inhaling excessive smoke and pollution.
Gendry suspected Valyria also possessed similar technology, as Valyria was famous for its high towers. Without fire control formations, it would have been almost impossible to cultivate large cities in a volcanic zone.
Gendry, Lothor, and the others first arrived at the base of the volcano, where the tunnels contained a large quantity of obsidian, also known as dragon glass (unlike real-world obsidian, it had a touch of magic). They slowly entered the deep, ancient tunnels, and under the guidance of Ser Assel Florent, everyone became familiar with every inch of Dragonstone.
"So much..." After descending into the tunnel, Gendry looked around to see dragon glass forming layers, piece by piece. Black ones were the majority, but there were also red, green, and purple ones.
Gendry gazed at the dense dragon glass, which in Old Valyria was called 'frozen fire'. The Valyrians used this material, but the Westerosi did not know how to use it, so it remained untouched.
"Ser Assel," Gendry instructed Ser Assel Florent. "Begin mining. In the future, we will need to craft dragon glass into weapons."
Assel nodded. Whether for arrows, daggers, or longswords, there was no shortage of obsidian here. While these obsidian weapons couldn't be used on the battlefield, they would be effective against the Wights in the North.
"The Nights Watch can use this to kill Wights, but killing Others is much more difficult," Gendry said, caressing the dark dragon glass, which resembled a black longsword.
"Are there differences between Wights and Others?" Ser Assel asked.
"Of course," Gendry nodded. "Wights are merely reanimated by necromancy, essentially dead flesh, and steel and fire are effective against them. But Others, if they are highly intelligent, sentient humanoids, are naturally far more terrifying."
"War will begin very soon, and we don't have much time, so we must expedite the mining and send a batch to the Nights Watch first."
Ser Assel nodded. If there was one specialty, dragon glass was one of Dragonstone's few.
Gendry, Anguy, and Lothor walked out of the tunnel together; they still needed to explore the dragon pits. Assel remained at the site, tallying the dragon glass with his men.
Gendry began to climb the treacherous eastern slope of the towering Dragonstone, where the salty air was even more permeated with smoke and the smell of sulfur. The eastern slope of Dragonstone was steeper and less traveled than the western slope, and the former dragons often made their nests at its highest points.
"During the Dance of the Dragons, six dragons nested here," Gendry mused. "Vermithor, Silverwing, Seasmoke, and three wild dragons: Sheepstealer, Grey Ghost, and The Glutton. Even before the Dance of the Dragons, wild dragons nested on Dragonstone, escaping the castle. If there are nests, I wonder if we might find other dragon eggs."
For at least 150 years, few people had seriously explored these dragon pits. This was because dragon nests were located at extremely high altitudes, on black cliffs, filled with smoke and the smell of sulfur, and the temperature in the dragon pits was extremely high, making them unsuitable for human entry. After the dragons disappeared, no one ventured there.
"Where did the Targaryen dragon eggs go?" Gendry wondered. The Targaryen family had indeed lost some dragon eggs in the past. Crows Eye claimed to have one, which might be another, and a dragon egg had previously fallen into Oldtown's hands.
But the number of these dragon eggs was far too small compared to the dragon eggs controlled by the Dragon Kings. The Targaryens used seven dragon eggs at a time. Gendry felt a huge fortune had vanished. It was like a cat scratching; he owned King's Landing and the volcanic island but hadn't seen any dragon eggs. Even Viserys and Daenerys, the siblings, didn't know the mystery of the dragon eggs. Fossilized dragon eggs were valuable, but living dragon eggs were priceless treasures.
Gendry decided to try his luck in the dragon pits first. With his fire-wielder ring, there might be a chance to find something overlooked. The Targaryens' early management of dragon eggs and dragons was not strictly rigorous, otherwise, three dragon eggs wouldn't have been stolen. Moreover, after hatching, some young dragons escaped the castle, making them difficult to manage.
Gendry and his companions first reached the dragon pits in the middle of the eastern slope. The largest and wildest dragons would place their nests at the highest point of the dragon pits, where the environment was most hostile to humans. They started from the more accessible dragon pits. Greyish-white smoke enveloped them, and the deeper they went into the dragon pits, the more they felt the scorching heat and the raging flames.
Lothor and Anguy followed behind Gendry, and they naturally sensed a difference. Following the storm, Gendry's fire-wielder ring, in the heat and fire, was like a fish finding water, absorbing the surging fire element. The greater help was in preventing the inhalation of harmful substances like sulfur and smoke, allowing them to adapt to the exploration. Although the ring couldn't completely counteract the high temperature and pressure, it at least provided them with some buffer time.
"These dragon pits seem to vary in size," Anguy said. Large dragon pits could accommodate many knights passing through, while small ones were much smaller. The largest dragon pit was at the highest point.
There were some wild dragons on Dragonstone back then, but some died before they grew up. There were also dragon-eating creatures on Dragonstone that devoured many dragons.
The first, second, third dragon pit... The group climbed higher and higher.
Marksman Anguy and Lothor, the 'Finger Killer', also felt a bit breathless, even though they were strong and powerful warriors. But traversing high temperatures and steep mountains, the dragons' nests were hidden and deep, and also hot. Searching through the caves was no pleasant task and a huge drain on their physical strength.
"Are we really going back empty-handed?" Gendry wondered. The fire-wielder ring had strengthened considerably on Dragonstone. But the fire and sulfur smell in the dragon caves were still too intense, and they had already expended a great deal of effort exploring to such extreme depths. Now only a few caves remained at the highest point of Dragonstone, some of which were even interconnected internally.
"Only a few left, a final push," Gendry said, leading the way into the higher dragon pits, striding in. He even saw the terrifying, blazing magma within Dragonstone. If they went any deeper, this cleared tunnel would collapse.
Gendry reached the final platform of the cave. Besides the steep walls, the rugged platform below led directly to the lava, with smoke constantly rising. Only dragons could survive in such an environment.
Anguy and Lothor held torches, their flames burning brightly. Gendry walked ahead, and with the fire-wielder ring and his control over the fire element, they moved like a sharp sword parting the waves of fire, reaching the deepest part of the high dragon pit. If not for the ring that controlled the raging fire, Gendry and his companions would not have dared to be so presumptuous. Even so, traversing the depths was very dangerous.
"Let's go back, Your Highness," the red-haired Anguy urged, sweat dripping down his face, having expended immense effort. He guessed that Gendry might possess a treasure that absorbed fire, smoke, and sulfur, but the treasure only provided concealment, not complete suppression. They were all flesh and blood and could still feel the scorching pressure.
"Thump!" Gendry felt the fire gem of the ring suddenly burn his finger, as if a wave of fire had caused the gem to tremble. This burning sensation was different from previous encounters with fire; this was the most powerful fire, capable of affecting the ring so intensely.
Gendry initially thought it was a delusion, but he soon felt that the sensation was real. He searched the cliff face again and again.
Gendry pulled out the hammer from his waist, and a "thump! thump!" sound echoed as the hammer struck the rock wall of the steep ground. Stones and dust flew, and finally, a large section of the rock wall on the ground was slowly cleared away.
On the steep ground, a large, oval-shaped egg quietly appeared, golden with fiery patterns. This dragon egg still emitted a trace of intense heat, and although it was beneath the cliff, its proximity to the fire source prevented it from turning into a fossil.
"A dragon egg!" Anguy exclaimed, looking incredulously at the golden dragon egg on the ground. They had truly found a dragon egg, making all their sweat worthwhile.
"No entering the dragon pit, no getting dragon eggs," Gendry laughed heartily, then placed the golden dragon egg into his cloth bag.
They finally explored all the dragon pits, leaving no nook or cranny untouched. In the end, they discovered three dragon eggs.
A golden dragon egg with pink fiery patterns, a red one with bright coppery spots and pink spirals, and a silver one with purple patterns... "Someone wants to kill you?" Lareza asked the 'Magician' Marwyn curiously.
"They tried, but they failed. How could these timid, weak grey sheep roar and kill like warriors? They only secretly poison food or hire assassins. I'm like a dock ruffian; I'm not to be trifled with," Marwyn laughed heartily. He was short and stout, but his chest and shoulders were very solid, and he had a round beer belly. Generally, such people were also very strong.
Lareza glanced at Marwyn; this person was indeed extraordinary, devoid of academic air, more like a ruffian.
Marwyn had a bull-like thick neck and a slab-like jaw. Upright white hairs sprouted from his ears and nostrils. His forehead protruded, his nose had been broken more than once, and his teeth were stained mottled red by sour leaves. He wore a valyrian steel necklace, signifying his profound mastery in magic and the mystic arts.
"The people of The Citadel are so bad?" Lareza asked, puzzled.
"In a world ruled by 'truth,' there shouldn't be magic and dragons; that's all I can tell you. Those books that aren't 'truth' are probably locked in the cellars. But I think their 'truth' cannot explain the premise; this world itself is chaotic, with seasons changing unpredictably," Marwyn explained in a low voice. "That little brat Reo Tyrell has a venomous tongue, but he's actually a good prospect, seeing through the truth of The Citadel. I'm a good guard dog, better than a pet in a cage..."
"Who domesticated these pets?" Lareza asked curiously. "Was it House Hightower?"
"That's hard to say," Marwyn replied. "It might be those stubborn doctors. But House Hightower... they're not necessarily good people either..."
"What is your surname, exactly?" Lareza asked, puzzled.
"In short, I'm an unwelcome person," Marwyn waved his hand. "Like Maester Aemon, I'm unwelcome because of my lineage and surname."
"You want to know the truth, don't you?" Marwyn asked Lareza. "You're a strange Child, a Child of Dornishmen and Summer Islanders. Being a Knight or a Captain is much cooler than being a Maester."
"..." Lareza nodded.
"Learn to be low-key, be an actor. If the doctors ask your purpose, say anything you like: that you want to serve the Lords and great figures, that you want to increase your knowledge, but never expose your unusual curiosity, and never talk about dragons and magic. Say what the fools say. Act cautiously, and I hope we meet again someday," Marwyn said, looking at Lareza.
"I'll give you one more piece of advice," Marwyn said.
"Stick with Reo. Although his tongue is sharp, that boy's not particularly foolish..."
"What will you do?"
"I'm leaving. Goodbye. Those grey sheep want to appease and deceive the storm; I'll be faster than them. My old friend is said to have already made a fortune," Marwyn said briskly.
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