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A Song of Ice and Fire: Wrath of the Sleeping Dragon

[A Song of Ice and Fire Fanfiction] Transported into the body Viserys Targaryen, the rightful sovereign of the Andals, Rhoynar, and the First Men, and the Guardian of the Realm, I embrace my title as the 'True Dragon.' **Update**- I can now confirm this book will be a harem book. around 250ish the book alludes to the possibility of it while introducing the first confirmed woman the MC sleeps with. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Hello everyone, I wanted to diversify my projects a bit after my earlier stumbles and newfound success and motivation from my main translation work as I start to get into a groove of improving my translating abilities. ASOIAF and GoT overall seems to be a popular but have a somewhat underserved audience on here compared to something like Marvel, DC, and shonen jump manga /comics. That being said I am very well aware of the rather large distaste for bad Chinese fanfiction translations. I do my best to select works that have a large volume of chapters that are available to me. Given that I’m in the US and don’t have access to things like Alipay or WeChat (believe me I’ve tried :( ) to get access to more popular sites like b.faloo and my extreme unwillingness to just touch up existing MTL translations means I will continue to have to select from a limited number of projects. I also know the color of the eye on more human side of the face should be purplish but I'm still super new to using Midjourny as my focus this past month has been more on getting my quality up and creating a stockpile of chapters for my main translation project.-- also I got lucky with the image actually kind of reflecting a more intense version of what I would imagine the "golden finger" looks like.

Read_and_Chill · Bücher und Literatur
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805 Chs

Chapter 784: The Far North

Clack, clack, clack—

Rhaenys's boots produced crisp sounds as they trod upon the corridor. The valiant young queen, draped in a black and red cloak, vanished like a burning flame at the end of the hallway.

Soon, a resounding dragon's roar echoed overhead. Rhaenys, mounted on Rhaegal, patrolled the entirety of the Wall and the lands beyond it to the north.

The three dragonriders of House Targaryen now took turns riding their dragons on patrols to prevent the White Walkers and the army of the dead from suddenly appearing at the foot of the Wall and catching them off guard.

The imperial forces now held fast atop the Wall, having learned from the lessons of the previous war between humans and the White Walkers.

Faced with an enemy like the White Walkers, human soldiers without the protection of walls were lambs to the slaughter. Moreover, fortifications were humanity's advantage over the White Walkers, who did not construct siege weapons. Thus, only by holding fast in defensive works could they maximally hinder the enemy.

The entire Wall was now on high alert, with over 30,000 imperial soldiers garrisoned along its 300-mile length. More than 100,000 troops were gathering in the empire's rear, converging from all corners of the realm—the Riverlands, Dorne, the Vale, the Westerlands, and more. They were ceaselessly marching towards the North.

Once the empire's 100,000-strong army assembled at the foot of the Wall, bolstered by the eight dragons of House Targaryen, the Wall would become the most impregnable barrier in the human world.

If the White Walkers wanted to breach it by force, they would inevitably pay a tremendous price.

On the other end of the corridor, a silver-haired girl clad in a snow-white gown and a white fur cloak watched Rhaenys's departing figure, her pair of pale violet eyes tinged with melancholy.

She now increasingly regretted the words she had impulsively uttered back then, but words spoken were like water spilled—difficult to retrieve.

Thus, whenever Daenerys faced Rhaenys's lovely smile now, she would feel a hint of unease in her heart, subconsciously avoiding her gaze.

Only then did Rhaenys notice that Daenerys had become a bit strange.

However, just as Daenerys was lost in thought, her hand grasping the railing, she suddenly sensed a shadow falling at her feet.

The silver-haired girl was startled, abruptly snapping out of her reverie, but when she raised her head, she saw that the person standing before her was none other than her beloved brother.

Daenerys had lost her parents from the moment of her birth. Her father, Aerys II, had died before she was born, and her mother, Queen Rhaella, had perished in childbirth. Thus, to Daenerys, Viserys was her everything.

Her greatest fear was that Viserys would abandon her.

"Viserys!" Daenerys tightly embraced the silver-haired youth before her, and Viserys hugged his sister in return. He could sense that the girl's arms were holding him with great strength, as if unwilling to let him go.

Then, Viserys sighed and gently ruffled her hair. "Dany, can we talk in private?"

Days passed, one after another. The sun rose as usual from various directions. Spending every day mingling with the dead, Benjen felt he had nearly become one of them, drifting aimlessly amidst the vast army, without purpose or destination.

Fortunately, Benjen still had a companion.

Thanks to the small black stone Rhaegar had given her, Lyanna remained lucid. She would occasionally keep Benjen company and chat, but more often than not, she had to keep her distance, lest she arouse the suspicion of the other White Walkers.

After all, aside from the two of them, the rest of the army of the dead were all muddled monsters. Even the more advanced White Walkers were puppets on strings, at least in Lyanna's eyes.

They only acted according to the Night King's commands, lacking their own opinions and thoughts, let alone knowing who they were.

If these White Walkers knew their identities, perhaps they would not choose to fight for the Night King. After all, among them were many ancestors of House Stark, generations of Kings in the North, including some of great renown.

"Lyanna, where are we now?" Benjen asked, quickly rising from the snow as he saw the gray-haired woman approaching him.

To prevent other White Walkers from seeing them together and growing suspicious—after all, the wights were all mindless cannon fodder, while the White Walkers were their commanders—even though the White Walkers did not usually communicate, they at least possessed the ability to do so. A White Walker and a wight constantly being together would undoubtedly arouse the suspicion of the other White Walkers.

Thus, every time Benjen and Lyanna met in secret, they would leave a mark in advance to signal each other. Then, one of them would quietly leave the army, and the other would follow soon after.

Breaking away from the army was a common occurrence among the dead. Not all wights were strong and sturdy; some were old, their bones loose. A long march could easily cause their legs to fall off, forcing them to crawl after the army while clutching their severed limbs. Others might crash into trees and damage themselves or simply get lost.

Benjen, of course, would not harm himself. Even though he was now a walking corpse, he still cherished his body.

Over the past few years, he had followed the army of the dead on countless battles, north and south, witnessing both the enchanting beauty and the myriad bizarre monsters of the far north.

"I don't know," Lyanna replied, looking around.

Everything was a vast expanse of white. Perhaps because the sun had made a rare appearance in the far north, the wind and snow had temporarily abated while they spoke.

Then, Lyanna shook her head. "But I think we might be heading back."

Based on the direction Lyanna had discerned, they were likely moving south now, having previously marched north for an unknown distance.

"Is that so?" Benjen's heart sank upon hearing Lyanna's words. "Does that mean we might soon attack the Wall?"

The gray-haired woman fell silent. She, too, recalled that when she had first been resurrected, she had killed countless humans and even shot an arrow at Robert to avenge Rhaegar.

However, Lyanna had not intended to kill Robert. Perhaps it was because she knew he truly loved her, but she also knew Robert would never love her alone.

Thus, at the last moment, her aim had shifted slightly. Otherwise, with Lyanna's archery skills, that arrow would have taken Robert's life.

"Let's take things as they come," Lyanna finally said.