Read my new story (CaveLeather)
Game of Thrones: The Sword King
Game of Thrones: From Deserter to Power
Game of Thrones: King of Harrenhal— Garth Greenhand Stat Panel
For Cardinal Alofman, Rey was an unexpected discovery—one that thrilled him beyond measure.
It meant that the rotting disease plaguing his body could finally be cured at the source: the blood.
Looking at Rey was like looking at his most precious treasure. He couldn't bear to damage this prize.
This was his blood, his life. Before his body fully recovered, no one was allowed to kill Rey—not even the Pope he respected.
With this mindset, Alofman held back his power when he attacked. No matter how fierce the strike appeared, it was calculated.
Rey felt as if he had been slammed by a wall of compressed air. Though the pain was intense, knocking him backward, he suffered no internal injuries.
Alofman merely wanted to knock him unconscious to capture him alive.
Helena caught the flying Rey, and the two tumbled to the ground in a heap.
"Go!"
Rey growled low at Helena.
Alofman was too strong. Even combined, they had zero chance of defeating him. The casual control Alofman displayed over his magic was on a level Rey couldn't yet reach.
Helena shook her head, tears streaming down her face. The stubborn girl wouldn't leave, even if it meant death.
Knowing he couldn't persuade her, Rey didn't waste time arguing. With a forceful wave of his wand, he blasted Helena backward, sending her sliding a long distance away to safety.
Time was tight, and the enemy was overwhelming. Rey couldn't afford a single mistake. After pushing Helena away, he immediately pulled out the small vial Madam Hooch had given him.
When she handed it to him, her exact words were: Drink this if you have no other choice.
Now was definitely the "no other choice" moment Madam Hooch had spoken of.
It was a small vial of black-and-red liquid. Rey hadn't asked what it was at the time, assuming it was just some kind of super-stimulant potion.
The swirling black and red looked mysterious. Without a second thought, Rey threw his head back and downed it. He didn't want to be interrupted by the insanely fast Alofman mid-drink.
Given Madam Hooch's solemn expression when she gave it to him, Rey trusted that this potion wouldn't disappoint.
---
Potion!
Or maybe poison!
The moment Rey swallowed the black-and-red liquid, he felt a line of fire sear through his throat.
The fire seemed alive, rushing straight from his mouth to his stomach.
It burned all the way down like molten lava. Rey could almost smell the scent of roast meat coming from his own mouth.
Once the fire hit his stomach, it exploded outward, spreading through his veins to every corner of his body. It was like water dripping into a pan of boiling oil—Rey's blood began to boil instantly.
What does boiling blood feel like?
First, an intense, unbearable heat. Then, an itch that made him want to tear his skin off.
"ARGH...!"
Rey roared, his mouth wide open. It wasn't just itchy; it hurt. Every single cell in his body was screaming in agony.
The pain was intolerable, and roaring was his only outlet.
The itchier it got, the more it hurt. The more it hurt, the itchier it got. Rey couldn't help but scratch, but instead of skin, his fingers met a layer of tender scales emerging from his flesh.
Not only were scales growing, but his body was also expanding rapidly.
Helena stared in shock at Rey's transformation. She tried to rush forward to hold him in his agony, but Rey used his wand to push her into the far corner of the underground hall. He cast a protective charm, trapping her there safely.
Whoosh!
A beam of white magical light struck Rey's back with a loud thud. The impact sent him stumbling forward two steps.
Just two steps.
He didn't fall.
Rey turned to look at the slightly surprised Alofman, a look of relief—almost pleasure—on his face. The hit had actually scratched the itch.
Alofman raised his hand again, firing a larger, more powerful beam of white light.
The rapid, forceful impact pushed Rey forward a few more steps.
Alofman had used seventy percent of his power this time, intending to knock out the transforming Rey.
But not only was Rey still conscious, the blow barely even scratched the itch now. In that moment, a masochistic thought crossed Rey's mind: he actually wanted to be hit a few more times.
---
Eighty percent power...!
Full power...!
Alofman moved closer with each strike, hitting harder every time. Yet, Rey moved less and less with each impact.
The sharp pain turned into a swelling ache. Rey felt like a snake shedding its skin.
Scales flew as his body expanded another size.
He kept growing, transforming relentlessly into a black dragon.
Slowly, wings burst from his back. His hands morphed into claws, his feet into powerful hind legs.
His neck elongated, horns sprouted from his head, and his face became terrifyingly draconic.
Two meters, six meters, ten meters...
The speed of growth accelerated. In less than thirty seconds, a living, breathing black dragon stood in the underground hall.
This ferocious black dragon was two or three sizes larger than Madam Hooch's dragon form. Its back already scraped the ceiling of the ten-meter-high hall.
Rey's dragon form continued to expand until the tall Alofman looked no bigger than a finger at his feet.
His dark golden eyes, devoid of any human emotion, stared down at the trembling Cardinal.
"No... You are mine! Your blood is mine! Even if you turn into a giant dragon, you cannot escape your fate to heal me!"
The trembling Alofman roared, terror gripping his heart at the sight of the colossal black dragon.
He was shouting to embolden himself.
No matter what, he wanted Rey's blood, even if the gap in power now felt like an unbridgeable chasm.
---
Sometimes, the gap in power is palpable. Like Rey facing Alofman earlier.
Facing someone with overwhelming power, even a simple movement creates immense pressure, inducing trembling and fear. Now, the tables had turned.
Rey's dragon form exerted unimaginable pressure on Alofman. A single glance made the Cardinal feel as if he had been dropped into an ice cave.
Under such pressure, driven by his obsession with the blood, Alofman attacked with everything he had. A beam of white light as thick as a bucket gathered around him, shooting straight at the dragon's terrifying head.
At the same time, the black dragon moved.
Rey raised his right claw, whipping up a gale in the underground hall. Then, he brought it down. The air pressure alone was suffocating.
The bucket-thick beam of light was instantly snuffed out by the dragon's slap.
It was effortless destruction. Alofman, caught under that white light, didn't even have time to scream before the black dragon slammed him into the ground.
A dull thud echoed through the hall. Imprinted deep into the hard stone floor was a massive dragon palm print.
And inside that print lay Alofman, reduced to a flattened pulp of flesh.