Chapter 455: The Faceless Fall

Not long after.

Clatter Clatter The chaotic sound of hooves echoed on the road outside the royal forest.

"Fire!" "Quick, put out the fire first!"

The furious Viserion had set the royal forest ablaze, and countless Targaryen soldiers stumbled over each other as they rushed to extinguish the flames.

"Your Highness, the Princess." "Your Highness, the Princess."

The young Princess Daenerys also arrived at the scene, escorted and protected by the Unsullied.

"Viserion."

She dismounted and calmed Viserion's temper before learning what had transpired.

A group of uninvited guests had invaded the royal forest during Viserion's absence, attacking five young dragons and making off with the smallest silver one.

This was an unprecedented event; the Targaryen's three dragons had never been deployed simultaneously.

The most frequently deployed was Balerion, the Black Dread, whose combat strength far exceeded his two brothers, and whose length was thrice theirs. Thus, he was often sent into battle or flew with Viserys.

Rhaegal and Viserion, the two brothers, stayed at home, hunting and fishing. Anyone who dared venture deep into the royal forest was swallowed whole.

Now, by chance, the Targaryen's three massive dragons were deployed simultaneously.

Balerion and Rhaegal were on the opposite shore of the Narrow Sea, while the white dragon Viserion had been summoned by Daenerys to quash a rebellion in Pentos.

But this fleeting opportunity was precisely and accurately seized by the enemies of House Targaryen.

They dispatched a skilled team armed with weapons threatening to the young dragons, capturing one that was only a few months old, and successfully made off with it.

Daenerys, understanding the full extent of the situation, grew pale. Though young, she knew the importance of dragons to her house.

Her brother had entrusted her with such an important matter, but she had botched it all.

Her brother had once entrusted the base to Rhaenys, who, though occasionally foolish, had never committed such a grave error.

The silver-haired princess's eyes reddened, and she seemed on the brink of tears. For her age, such a calamity left her feeling lost and without support. Her brother and Rhaenys were far away, leaving her to fend for herself.

But luckily, Jon Clinton also received the news and arrived at the scene in time.

From the end of the road, hooves sounded, and a tall man with gray-red hair arrived with a few guards. Seeing Daenerys, he dismounted at once.

"Your Highness, the Princess."

Daenerys, seeing a trustworthy adult arrive, couldn't help but embrace Jon Clinton and cry.

"It's all my fault, Lord Jon. What do we do now?"

The gray-red-haired man, seeing the crying princess, swallowed the words of criticism he had intended. This was indeed a slight oversight on Daenerys's part, calling Viserion and leaving the five young dragons unprotected in the royal forest.

Had this not happened, it would have been a minor, inconsequential mistake.

But the enemy 'conveniently' seized this opportunity, launching an elite attack on the royal forest, and taking one of the young dragons. This small mistake had morphed into a grave error.

However, looking at the teary-eyed little girl, Jon Clinton couldn't bear to speak harshly. He could only pat the girl's hair and sigh before speaking.

"This is not entirely Your Highness's fault; I am also to blame. I should have sent more soldiers to protect the royal forest, not just..."

Jon Clinton's voice was low, but in truth, even a large army of ten thousand couldn't have made the vast royal forest impenetrable.

But Jon Clinton didn't finish his sentence. Compared to calming the princess's emotions, what was more crucial now was how to remedy the situation. His tone lifted slightly as he continued.

"But now is not the time to give up."

"Your Highness."

"I have already sent soldiers to search for suspicious individuals along the way, and have sealed the ports and coast. A young dragon is not small; they will not find it easy to smuggle it away unnoticed."

Jon Clinton had quickly implemented some remedial measures, searching for the group that had attacked the young dragons, and investigating their identity as urgently as possible.

However, although he said this, Jon Clinton didn't harbor much hope of recovering the young dragon.

The enemy's preparations were thorough, and if they could precisely calculate Viserion's departure, arranging people to help outside would not be difficult.

The most challenging part of capturing the dragon had succeeded; transporting a dragon only a meter long would be relatively easy for an experienced smuggling group.

Yet, although Jon Clinton didn't have high expectations of finding the young dragon, he wasn't panicked, for he knew that one person could certainly locate the young dragon.

"Hate will be obliterated with fire and blood."

Jon Clinton spoke with rare fury. This time, no matter who the enemy was, since they had crossed a line, they must wash their sins with blood and fire.

Meanwhile, on a coast near Pentos.

A merchant ship bearing the flag of Tyrosh seemed to have temporarily stopped there due to some accident.

Then, accompanied by a carriage covered with black cloth, people lifted a large wooden box from the carriage onto the ship. The ship, having anchored for a long time, hastily set sail, heading north.

Above the cabin, the leader of the Faceless Men removed his mask, revealing a handsome yet weathered face, slightly stubbled, with deep, tired pale blue eyes.

His last companion had chosen to flee in another direction to lead the pursuers away.

He was eventually caught by the Targaryen cavalry and beheaded, leaving only him.

The Faceless Men, nearly wiped out, had only two left within the organization responsible for training newcomers, the 'Kindly Man,' and the one who concocted poisons, the 'Waif.'

The once-renowned, thousand-year-old Faceless Men were nearing extinction, all for one young dragon.

What could it bring? Could it allow the Braavosi elite to attempt to control dragons and dominate the skies? Or to study the dragon's characteristics and create weapons against such creatures?

"Is it worth it?"

Jaqen H'ghar looked at the silver young dragon, shackled by its feet in the cage.

Its scales were dull and lifeless, and it seemed to have stopped struggling, lying quietly in the cage, its eyes also staring at him.

At that moment, Jaqen H'ghar felt a chill run down his spine.

He sensed an unprecedented threat in the young dragon's eyes, and abruptly stood up from his chair.