Chapter 535: Blood Purification

Laena's heart skipped a beat at Helaena's bare stare, and she couldn't help but take a half step back. She hesitated for a second, her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

Helaena looked away and said, "Lord Corlys will recover soon. I'll be going now." She left without waiting to be stopped.

Laena's hand, which was halfway raised, froze in mid-air. She said awkwardly, "She's still so shy."

"Helaena has only ever been close to Rhaegar since she was a child," Rhaenyra, feeling a twinge of jealousy, remarked. "Don't disturb Lord Corlys's rest. Tell me about the battlefield."

"Okay," Laena replied, shifting her focus.

...

They moved to a different bedroom. After sending the children out to play, Rhaenyra and Laena sat down to chat. They talked about the battlefield, and Rhaenyra was shocked. She also wanted to go to war, but Rhaegar had arranged for her to stay in Lys because Helaena was pregnant. Syrax was not as big as Vhagar or Meleys and had not fought in many battles.

Creak! Johanna pushed open the door and entered, carrying a tray with wine. Laena looked at Rhaenyra, who nodded slightly in preparation.

Laena was relieved and asked Johanna, "Has the White Worm made any moves recently?"

Johanna lowered her eyes and replied, "The White Worm sent a letter to Tyrosh summoning some of her old subordinates."

"Is that all?" Laena was doubtful. As far as she knew, Mysaria, the White Worm, had a group of orphans and many other partners in the shadows.

Johanna thought for a moment and whispered, "The White Worm also sent a letter to The Eyrie in secret, but never received a reply."

Laena was taken aback and looked sideways at Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra took a sip of wine and said, "House Arryn has always been proud, and they choose their allies carefully. If Jeyne were to ally with Mysaria, the White Worm, she would not be worthy of the title of Lady of the Vale."

Laena quickly understood the reason. Rhaenyra looked at Johanna and asked, "What else do you know? Tell me everything." She wanted to reassure her friend.

Johanna replied truthfully, "The White Worm's roots are shallow, and her intelligence network is limited to King's Landing and Tyrosh."

Rhaenyra thought for a moment and then said, "She went to Helaena to win her over as well?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Laena said helplessly. Don't look at Helaena, who is always so dazed and confused, like a little transparent. She is the only sane person in the entire House Targaryen. It's not possible to drag her down.

Johanna's eyes flashed, and she volunteered, "The White Worm's belly is getting bigger every day, and the Maester thinks it's probably a boy."

Laena's expression tightened, and she clenched her fingers around the wine cup.

Johanna continued in a low voice, "Lord Corlys is injured, and the White Worm will not miss the opportunity to get an ally. Prince Daemon has not yet named Lady Baela as his heir."

The reason is that the White Worm has a boy in her belly. Laena's eyes darkened as she retorted, "My father will recover soon, and the White Worm is nothing more than a clown."

Johanna tilted her head slightly, and a flash of light appeared in her eyes. The other party's words focused on the Sea Snake as a father, not on Daemon as a husband. This was already very telling.

Rhaenyra could hear the allure in Johanna's words and reached out to hold her friend's hand, noticing how pale it had become. Laena looked up blankly, seeking reassurance.

Rhaenyra's eyes were firm, and her voice was resolute: "Think carefully about your decision and never regret it."

Laena lowered her head, falling into deep self-doubt. Before she saw the face in front of her, her decision had been to keep the child and stay with deal with the mother. But when she saw the White Worm, she knew what she would feel.

Johanna's reminder was almost imperceptible: "White Worms have many enemies. If you're not careful..." She was being very concise. Johanna pursed her lips and looked at Laena with a piercing gaze. Both were members of the Lys parliament, and they knew each other very well. They understood what she meant.

Laena's face paled at the news. Once and for all, she seemed more reliable. Rhaenyra quickly squeezed her hand and reminded her, "Be reasonable. Don't be a fool and go against the tide."

Anyone who kills the White Worm is a fool. Laena suddenly realized and was shocked, "You're right, I can't go back on my word."

To murder an unborn child is against honor and belief. It was Daemon's fault for pointing the blade at the innocent. Rhaenyra let out a sigh of relief and turned to Johanna with a warning, "Get out and don't disturb us."

Johanna was quiet and quietly left the bedroom. Laena was puzzled and wondered about Johanna's attitude. Rhaenyra sighed softly and explained, "Johanna is from House Swann in Stonehelm. The previous Lord Swann was reluctant to pay the ransom and let her go astray, but she still longed to return to her family to prove herself."

"After House Swann was destroyed, her vision for the first half of her life was shattered. For this reason, she is very hostile to Aemond, Laenor, and the Stormlands, who caused the destruction of her house."

Laena was shocked and hesitated, "But Laenor..."

Rhaenyra shrugged and said helplessly, "She also resents Rhaegar for harboring Aemond, so she feels justified in taking care of Lys for me."

She told it like it was, and the Black Swan's talent and skill were rare in the world. She was reluctant not to use her, yet afraid to use her to the fullest. She was just right for the position of a housekeeper.

...

Across the Narrow Sea, at Storm's End.

"Ga-ga-ga..." A black raven cawed and flew into a tower. In the bedroom, two intertwined bodies stirred. The raven landed on the headboard of the bed, flapping its wings.

"Ha~" Aemond gasped, struggling to rise from the bed, his one eye clearing as he came to his senses. "Where did the raven come from?"

A soft, tender voice emerged from beneath the covers, filled with dissatisfaction. Aemond did not reply, but instead cast a cold glance. The sapphire in his eye glowed with a sinister light.

Floris immediately lowered her head and pulled the thin quilt over her body.

"Ga-ga..." The raven continued its cawing as Aemond calmly took the letter box and swatted the bird away. It flew out of the room in a rage. He opened the box and pulled out a letter.

Aemond read it carefully, his expression growing more incredulous with each word. "Sea Snake is wounded, Volantis has surrendered," he muttered. More intriguingly, Laena had left the battlefield for unknown reasons.

Aemond's spirit lifted, and he rolled out of bed, rummaging through his pockets. Soon, he pulled out a roll of paper—Daemon's reply from the day before. The response had rejected his offer of dragon-riding assistance and was laced with sarcasm.

Aemond held the two pieces of paper side by side, murmuring, "By the time Daemon replied, Laena had already withdrawn, and Volantis had surrendered." The raven had taken at least half a month to deliver the message across the sea. The Battle of Volantis was only the first major engagement of the war, with subsequent attacks on Slaver's Bay and the Smoking Sea also planned.

Daemon had known that Laena had withdrawn and that there were not enough dragon riders on the front, yet he had still refused Aemond's offer and mocked him in his letter.

Aemond's eyes blazed with rage, the humiliation too much to bear. He punched the bed with all his might. A muffled thud resounded, and a trickle of blood ran down his fist. The one-eyed man glared, teeth clenched. "Daemon, you're a good uncle!" he spat.

Floris, frightened by his sudden outburst, screamed, unsure of what her lover was thinking.

"Get out of here!" Aemond's anger clouded his mind. He hastily dressed, then pushed open the door and stormed out. Floris reacted belatedly, asking in surprise, "Where are you going?"

"Lys!" Aemond said through gritted teeth. The door slammed shut, and Floris, left alone, shuddered again, tears brimming in her eyes as she muttered, "Daemon, Lys..."

...

Volantis

In a sunny mansion, beside a stream and a garden, Rhaegar sat in the pavilion fishing.

Splash! The hook sank to the bottom of the water.

"Good hook, accurate and steady," Rhaegar murmured with a smile. He placed the green bamboo fishing rod on his lap and reached into the bronze water basin to stir the water. The basin was clear, and two three-inch silver fish jumped about energetically.

After a hard morning, he had two small fish to show for his efforts. Rhaegar was pleased with himself. He picked up one of the fish and examined it closely. "Hmm, the damage to the scales is gone, and it's even more spirited."

When he first caught it, it had looked like a dead fish, belly up. But after two hours in the water basin, it was full of life. Rhaegar snapped his fingers, and a small flame enveloped the little fish. In a short while, the sizzling sound of the fat was gone, and the live fish had become a grilled fish.

After making sure there was nothing unsavory in the fish's belly, he threw it into his mouth. Rhaegar's eyes were full of anticipation. After a slow and careful bite, he gave his verdict: "It's delicious, but it doesn't taste like anything special."

But that wasn't the point.

Rhaegar closed his eyes and felt his heartbeat. A small whirlpool slowly rotated, circulating the fire magic in his blood, purifying it to the tips of his fingers. The fish entered his stomach and broke down into a wisp of magic. The magic entered his bloodstream through the digestive system and was refined by the beating of his heart until only a trace remained. At this point, the process of growing magic was complete.

Rhaegar opened his eyes and let out a breath. "Spiritual Orb, you have helped me open up a new channel to master the power of fire." The small vortex in his heart had appeared, and he realized how out of practice he was with fire magic. It was like comparing a toddler to a hyena—one was in heaven, the other in hell. Even using the seven-fireball technique, he could not muster even a tenth of his fire magic.

"A qualitative leap," Rhaegar murmured, his joy barely contained. "Now, I am a true Pyromancer. Before, I was just a pretender."

He reached for the second fish, but a voice interrupted him. "Your Grace, the Velaryon fleet has docked at the harbor and the ministers are waiting for you," his attendant announced from behind.

Rhaegar paused and responded in a low voice, "I know. Tell them I'll be there as soon as possible."

As the attendant left, Rhaegar smacked his lips, threw the second fish into the stream, and retrieved the bronze basin and fishing rod. The basin's power was limited; it couldn't nourish the little fish indefinitely, nor could the thin magic it provided sustain them. However, the fishing rod was handmade and worth keeping.

The moment the bronze basin disappeared into thin air, a blue drop of water fell. Rhaegar reached out to catch it, and a system prompt sounded in his ear.

"Congratulations, the Rhoynar's Attachment has been activated, and you have obtained..."

[Pure Water]

Level: Legendary (Red)

Effect: +100% toxin resistance

Comment: "The purest water in the world, purifying all imperfections and diseases."

The blue water droplet shook, its shell shattered like dust, and it flew away with the wind. With a pop, it turned into a full, real water droplet.

Before Rhaegar could react, the water droplet trembled and entered his mouth, sliding down his throat into his stomach. The sensation was strange and slippery, reminiscent of what Rhaenyra had described as an uncomfortable experience between the sheets.

Rhaegar didn't have time to ponder it. He closed his eyes and let out a faint groan, feeling a tremor from the depths of his soul, as if washing away the dirt from his body. Unconsciously, his Dragonborn form manifested.

Black scales appeared on his forehead, and black fire burned in his eyes. A deformed horn emerged, shaking as if a worm gnawed at it, and then it fell off naturally.

(Word count: 2,103)