ALL NOVEL Chapter 229: Half-Living Dragons
Valsha let out a smug, wicked laugh at the expression on Viserys' face. "Come, since dragons have been extinct for over a hundred years, I’ll show you a live one," she said, leading them eagerly to the 'dragon chimney' beside the throne.
The dragons she had altered were covered in soot-colored black and brown, giving them the appearance of statues carved from poor-quality stone. At first glance, they looked like a sculptor's failed attempt at art. But Valsha had completely transformed these creatures, reducing them to little more than smoke-spewing machines. Even their eyes had turned to stone.
Viserys observed that the dragons, each about the size of a railway carriage, could double their length if their tails were included. Although their wings were folded, their span was impressive—each wing could easily cover two or three carriages.
"This one is called Galokhale," Valsha said, pointing to the dragon in front of Viserys. "That one is Fhirdcegal, and those two over there are Vhiri Los and Krorius."
Viserys pondered for a moment, guessing that after the fall of Valyria, the Targaryens had boldly used the names of Valyrian gods to name their dragons.
Up close, he noticed that the scales on this dragon were the size of a human ear. However, each scale bore tiny signs of erosion, pitted and rough. The dragon had not only lost its original color but seemed to be entirely drained of life.
Curious, Viserys cautiously placed his hand on the dragon to see if there would be any reaction. The texture was rough, confirming his suspicion that the scales had also been petrified.
He waited expectantly for feedback from his panel. After all, touching Dragonbone and Dragonblood had granted attribute points before, so there was no reason why touching a living dragon shouldn’t yield a similar response.
However, one second passed, then three seconds, five seconds, ten... Half a minute went by, but there was no response. 'Could it be that the system doesn’t recognize it because of Valsha’s modifications?' Viserys wondered, maintaining his composure as if nothing was amiss.
Valsha and Young Connington were both watching him intently. Just as he was about to give up, the familiar feedback finally appeared before his eyes.
[Touching a half-alive dragon gains 239 attribute points]
Over two hundred points! A flash of surprise crossed Viserys’s eyes. This was equivalent to more than half a month’s worth of accumulation, meaning he could hatch dragons sooner than expected.
There were still three dragons left, and if he could touch them all, he’d have enough points to hatch a dragon as soon as he returned.
However, Viserys also noticed a crucial detail on the panel—half-alive. This meant the dragons were in a similar state to the Dragonlords, neither fully alive nor fully dead.
"What do you think? Is it different from what you expected?" Valsha asked, her tone curious.
"I can’t say. I’ve never touched a real dragon before." To cover up his unusual behavior, he turned to Young Connington and said, "You try it too."
"Yes, Prince," Young Connington replied, moving to the other dragons and placing his hand on each one in turn.
[Touching a half-alive dragon gains 259 attribute points]
[Touching a half-alive dragon gains 238 attribute points]
[Touching a half-alive dragon gains 268 attribute points]
The four half-alive dragons provided Viserys with nearly a thousand attribute points, more than enough if he chose to use them for sacrifice. The two of them wandered around the main hall a bit more, and just as Viserys was about to leave, Valsha offered to show them the grave of "Prince Garin."
However, Viserys was concerned about time. They needed to leave The Sorrows and head directly to meet the Horselord, and any delay could negatively impact their morale.
"Well, we’ll have plenty of time for that later. I’ll be waiting for you," Valsha said, her invitation lingering in the air.
Reluctantly, Viserys agreed. As they left the main hall, he instructed Young Connington to keep the promise of thousand years a secret. Young Connington understood Viserys’s intent and readily agreed.
On their way back, they stripped a suit of Valyrian steel armor from one of the petrified bodies and put it on before heading to the magic bus where Regis and the others were waiting. They found Regis and the Unsullied lying or crouching, utterly drained of strength, their eyes unfocused and pupils dilated. If not for their shallow breathing, they might have been mistaken for dead.
Viserys placed the strip of cloth he had taken from Valsha under Regis’s nose. Slowly, a light returned to his eyes.
"Prince? Why are we here? Did I fall asleep?" Regis asked groggily, his confusion evident.
Viserys let out a sigh of relief and handed a piece of the cloth to Young Connington, tucking the larger piece back into his garment. "It's fine. I’ve got what we need. Let’s head back now."
The grey mist around them made everything hazy, blurring the sense of time. With no way to tell day from night, it was hard to gauge how long they had been stranded in the main hall of the Palace of Sorrows. But Viserys felt it had only been a few hours.
After waking Regis and the others, they quickly made their way to the Bridge of Sorrows. The stone men stationed there no longer had any will to stop them.
Bodies still littered the bridge, and the survivors huddled near the street lamps on either side, eyeing the group with a mix of fear and awe.
The old boatman, who had been waiting with his two small grandchildren, was dozing on the boat, with the Unsullied standing guard nearby, also taking a brief rest. As soon as he spotted Viserys and the others, the Unsullied quickly woke the boatman and his grandchildren, signaling for them to bring the boat closer to the shore.
One by one, the group descended the short spear ladder they had left behind. The old boatman hurriedly approached, relief washing over his face. "Thank the gods for allowing the Lords to return safely!"
"Safe in the seventh circle of hell!" Regis muttered irritably. He had finally made it to the Palace of Sorrows but hadn’t been able to meet the legendary Shrouded Lady.
His frustration was palpable, knowing he’d have less to boast about in the future. He pestered Young Connington with questions the entire way back.
"Old boatman, how long have you been waiting here?" Viserys asked.
"My lord, the river has risen and fallen nine times while we waited, which should be less than five days."
"Five days! That's a long time!" Viserys exclaimed, surprised. He had thought it had been only a day or two at most. Realizing they were pressed for time to reach the agreed battleground with the Horselord, he urged, "Hurry up and go!"
