Dumb Harry was initially stunned, but seeing Gendry with Lothor and the Gold Cloaks beginning to work, he reluctantly joined the team.
Fires blazed in the ruins of Ge.Dohe. The Hill Tribesmen watched in bewilderment as the tall, imposing Knights filled in the fountain ditches, smoked away mosquitoes, and even left them some food.
"Good people!" "Good people!" The Hill Tribesmen didn't know their names, only that they were good people.
"Not good people, but The Liberator of the world," Lothor explained.
Gendry and his party did not stay long in Ge.Dohe before continuing south. Gendry missed Balerion; if he had a dragon, such sewage would be eliminated very quickly.
The golden quartered banners flew high, and they saw an ancient legendary craft, the ancient Valyrian Road.
Gendry was very surprised. He knew this was also the magic of dragons and fire, ancient Fire Magic, which could destroy and also create. The Road was not made of dirt, bricks, or cobblestones, but a super-long ribbon paved with lava. It was half a foot above the ground, convenient for draining rainwater and melting snow, and it had no cracks or wheel marks, making it sturdy and durable.
"This road is so wide," Jon said, deeply impressed.
"Indeed," Dacey and Anguy also nodded. Compared to this road, the roads in the Seven Kingdoms were mere muddy paths. This was a truly wide road, wide enough for three carriages to travel side-by-side without interference, without slowing down traffic.
The golden war banners danced in the wind. Gendry galloped ahead first, followed by his bodyguard, squire, and Gold Cloaks Kingsguard, who also accelerated their pace. The closer to home, the more hesitant one feels.
Gendry and his party crossed the Pentos plains, bypassing the city-state of Pentos, which took them a considerable amount of time. The plains had large orchards, farms, and mines, but no towns due to fear of the Khal. They then continued south to Myr and the Disputed Lands, where the Free Folk and small merchants bowed and made way for their golden war banners. But Gendry did not stop.
The Pear Orchard outside Wolfs Den city, the reunion of the Stag and the true dragon. The scent of pears was still strong, masking the smell of sulfur and fire.
Gendry and Daenerys sat on a soft cushion, Daenerys nestled in his arms, and the three dragons roared with joy.
"I often thought, how sweet it would be if I could be reunited with you. Every minute, every moment, I would think of you," Daenerys said, her fingers tracing Gendry's cheek. A touch of weathering and steadfastness made him even more charming.
"You're not dreaming, Dany," Gendry smiled faintly. The black Balerion climbed onto Gendry's lap. The black and red dragon had grown considerably larger, letting out a puff of smoke before a roar.
Gendry tossed Balerion a piece of cooked meat. Balerion's black and red flames swirled down, and only after the meat was more charred did Balerion swallow it.
The dragon's fire. Gendry looked at the flames. This was the best sword against the cold, provided the dragon grew up. Gendry felt that Dragonstone's volcanic climate was suitable for dragon growth; there, dragons would be more agile, the homeland of dragons.
"He is wilder than the other little dragons, grows the fastest, and learned to hunt the earliest," Dany said.
Gendry looked at the black dragon; he was indeed extraordinary, the strongest one. People said he was the black death reborn.
"The Mountain and Amory are dead, and the Kingslayer has lost his sword hand," Gendry's calm words were backed by the continuous burning of war.
"You are the Knight of my heart," Dany praised. He was her Knight, her fire, her sun.
"And you are the Queen of love and beauty in my heart."
Daenerys gave him a kiss, a light and moving kiss.
"So, are we close to victory?" Dany asked.
"We will win, but we still have to face the terrible Long Winter."
"Winter," Daenerys was a little scared; she was actually a Child of summer.
The dragons sensed her fear, and the three dragons spread their wings and soared. Balerion flapped his wings and flew to the highest point of the estate, while the other two swept across the sky, their wingtips brushing against tree branches.
"But we have dragons, and they grow very fast."
"My good Princess, dragons are not entirely invincible," Gendry held Daenerys's hand. "The future war will be a cruel and absurd sum."
dragon horn, sorcery, drowned god, cold god, god of light—they would face all the Wights of the known world.
Daenerys seemed to understand and not understand... For the wildfire, Tyrion and Hallyn were now deep beneath Rhaenys Hill, just below the Alchemists' Guild Hall.
Tyrion Lannister put on thick padded trousers, a wool coat, and a heavy velvet overcoat, barely enduring the chill.
The damp stone walls were covered with saltpeter, and the only light came from the sealed iron-barred glass oil lamp carefully held by the Pyromancer Hallyn.
Jars of wildfire were placed on the stone walls, and the Pyromancers had to be extremely cautious. No fire, no light. The long cellar was damp and dark, with bone-chilling cold.
"You can play with a jar, but be very careful," Hallyn said. Hallyn was a pale-faced man with soft, wet hands and an extremely fawning attitude. He wore a black and red striped robe trimmed with sable fur, but the fur looked sparse and seemed to have been moth-eaten.
Tyrion picked up a jar, a fiery red round jar, like a plump ceramic grapefruit. It was a bit large for his palm, but he knew it was just right for an ordinary person to hold.
"Don't use force, and don't let it slip."
Tyrion carefully felt it. The pottery was very thin and brittle, and rough to the touch, mixed with small stones. He saw the wildfire solvent, a viscous green substance.
"It's a bit viscous."
"Lord Hand, this is due to the cold. As soon as the temperature rises, this substance will flow smoothly, just like lamp oil," Hallyn said.
"This substance" was what the Pyromancers called wildfire. They referred to each other as "Wisdoms" and habitually hinted at their extensive knowledge, hoping others would consider them learned scholars, which greatly annoyed Tyrion.
The Pyromancers were once very prominent but later gradually declined, and now there were only a few of them. Seeing Lord Hand Tyrion arrive, the Pyromancers spoke eloquently.
"I heard this stuff can't be put out by water?" Tyrion asked.
"Exactly, Lord Hand. Don't underestimate this stuff; they are the most terrifying flames," Hallyn's face showed a proud expression.
Tyrion had seen wildfire before. He remembered Thoros, the Red Priest from Myr, and his flaming sword: a thin layer of wildfire coated on the longsword would make it burn for an hour. Thoros had to replace his sword after every duel.
"How much is left now?" Tyrion asked. The fact that the Pyromancers used pottery to contain wildfire indicated its power.
"This morning, Wisdom Munciter just gave me the statistics: we currently have seven thousand eight hundred and forty jars, including four thousand jars from King Aerys's time."
"Also, why doesn't it seep into the pottery?"
"Oh, why wouldn't it?" Hallyn said. "There's another cellar down here, where we specifically store old jars. Those are all things left by King Aerys. It was his idea to make the jars fruit-shaped. These fruits are very dangerous, Lord Hand, and, hehehe, more 'mature' than before, if you know what I mean..."
Tyrion listened to the Old Man's rambling. wildfire was easy to create but difficult to destroy. When King's Landing fell, many Pyromancers were killed, leaving only a few assistants who were utterly incapable of the work. What was more terrifying was that due to the chaos at the time, many of the items the Pyromancers had made for the Mad King were unaccounted for.
"So much wildfire, and some of it is unaccounted for." Tyrion was a little scared; this was enough to make King's Landing burn completely. But he had no choice; he needed the wildfire.
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