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Last True Remnant of Old Valyria

An unknown powerful Dragon Lord with the knowledge of modern world and future comes into turbulent time of the Dance of Dragons. With lineage greater than Targaryen could ever hope to achieve. What change would it bring to the fate of others?? This is my first work. So, if you like this work just motivate me with leaving review and power stones so at least I know that my work is being appreciated. Because I am new into this it takes hours to write one chapter so just give me some motivation with power stones. And last English isn't my first language, and I am learning as I write. Chao! Enjoy This my buymeacoffee if you want to support me or like to read advance chapters of this fic. buymeacoffee.com/Daeranyx_Drakonar patreon.com/Daeranyx_Drakonar

Daeranyx_Drakonar · 書籍·文学
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62 Chs

"Dracarys. Anarion"

I take out my wand after holding it tightly on my right hand. Gave command to Anarion, "Sāndor. Anarion" (Attack or To Battle, Anarion)

As Anarion and I charged directly at Sheepstealer, he opened his jaws, and a blaze started to form within. Anarion swiftly dipped below the flames before they could engulf us. In the moment Sheepstealer's fiery breath swooped down, I ordered Anarion to ascend, ensuring our safety atop Sheepstealer's back.

Without hesitation, I yelled, "Dracarys. Anarion!" In response, a white scorching flame laced with black specks burst forth. However, Sheepstealer dodged, his agile body twisting in midair, just escaping the fiery blast. We immediately gave chase. As Sheepstealer began his descent, Anarion unleashed another torrent of flames at him.

Sheepstealer barrel-rolled, using his powerful wings to dissipate the heat, but the edges of his wings singed, and a roar of pain escaped his throat. The two dragons clashed mid-air, their massive bodies colliding with a bone-jarring force and this clash rattled even my bones. Anarion's ram shape horns, sharp and formidable, caught Sheepstealer in the side, drawing a spray of dark blood. The smaller dragon snarled, attempt to snap his powerful jaws towards Anarion's neck. But before he could do that I gathered as much magic I could and fire the blast I practised so much straight toward his snout. 

And it fucking worked. Although it caused him no harm, his attempt to bite Anarion failed. This gave Anarion enough time to free one of his claws and gouge the underbelly of Sheepstealer. A roar of pain erupted from Sheepstealer, audible for miles. He thrust Anarion away with all his might, striving to break free from Anarion's grasp, yet not without sustaining some tears in his wings.

Sheepstealer, aided by gravity, gained a head start while we were at a disadvantage, with Anarion needing to stabilize before diving. It was crucial to intercept him before he reached the mountains, where his muddy color would provide camouflage, giving him an advantage. A single well-executed sneak attack could decisively shift the balance in his favor.

I unleashed a barrage of magic blasts at Sheepstealer, which disrupted his flight. However, before he could crash into the nearby cliffside, he regained control and let out a roar of annoyance. Before Anarion could seize him, Sheepstealer began spewing a cloud of fiery orange flames, igniting the sky itself. Anarion turned upward to shield me from the inferno, but not without getting scorched in the same spot where Sheepstealer had previously wounded him.

In the process of saving himself from Anarion, it seems he endangered himself further as his fire breath caused him more harm than it did Anarion. Having taken to the skies, we began circling the area where he was last spotted. Anarion continued to emit challenging roars, one after another. However, even after roughly ten minutes, he did not emerge. It appears he has no intention of coming out voluntarily.

We have two methods to lure him out: one is to willingly dive down, enter a trap, and once Sheepstealer emerges, we attempt to finish him off as swiftly as possible. However, the issue here is his lithe body, which could easily slip from our grasp. The alternative is to set the forest and a mountain ablaze. The intense heat, coupled with his injuries, would force him to either come out and confront us or slowly perish from the smoke generated by the fire. My theory is that he's concealed in a cave within the mountain, and the smoke from the fire would seep into his hideout, leaving him no choice but to exit. Upon doing so, he would be met with the entire forest engulfed in flames.

Although my past self would not have chosen this path, as the roar of two dragons would have gone unnoticed, my forthcoming actions will undoubtedly draw attention. But frankly, I no longer care. As I've stated before, Sheep Stealer's end will come here. It's now about my bond with Anarion, and he will not be content without the corpse of Sheep Stealer.

As Anarion's anger intensified, I steered him towards the mountain, maintaining a distance that would allow for a swift escape should Sheepstealer be lurking below. Without hesitation, Anarion dove downwards, and upon reaching what I considered a safe distance, I commanded, "Ēdrūptos ēngos hūndar." At my words, Anarion set the forest encircling the mountain ablaze. I then ordered Anarion to unleash fire upon the mountain, a command he executed with eagerness. (Light the whole forest)

After numerous rounds of fire on the mountain, we began to circle the area once more. We didn't have to wait long; within five minutes, a roar of pure savagery and anger echoed from below. Sheepstealer emerged from the flames, his breath heavy, a wild look of madness in his eyes. Anarion roared back in giddy triumph, like a child who had just gotten the toy he wanted from the store.

And so, the dance between us would begin. Sheep Stealer now understood that only one would emerge alive from this encounter. We were determined not to let him flee. Once more, the two dragons clashed, an unstoppable force was produced from their clash. This time, I loosened my straps slightly, knowing the jarring impact would travel up to my saddle, and a tight strap would do more harm than good. As they collided, the sheer force nearly unseated me; they began their grappling match, and I clung to the saddle for dear life.

Sheepstealer is attacking with pure savagery as he lets down all his defenses and begins to assault Anarion with all his might. Observing this, I see that Anarion is on the defensive, more concerned for my safety than his own. It seems his loyalty to me has prevented him from switching to offense. My previous actions have shattered Anarion's trust in my ability to protect myself from harm. Just as a dragon influences a dragon lord's personality, making him more aggressive and prideful, we also shape our dragon with our own traits, as is evident now. After witnessing this, I vowed never to commit such a shameful act again.

Upon my command, "Daorun ōños rūklon, Anarion," he unleashed fire upon Sheepstealer. This compelled Sheepstealer to release himself from Anarion's grasp. Once I steadied myself in the saddle, I assessed Anarion for injuries. It appeared that in this tussle with Sheepstealer, Anarion was unable to inflict the level of injury he had in their previous encounter. ("Do not be concerned about me")

The battle raged on, a furious dance of fire and fury. Anarion, despite his fatigue and wounds, fought with relentless determination. He circled around Sheepstealer, using his larger size and superior strength to press the attack. He launched another wave of white flames, this time catching Sheepstealer across the flank, the fire searing through scales and flesh. Sheepstealer roared in agony, but instead of retreating, he charged forward with renewed ferocity.

Witnessing the ferocity with which the Sheepstealer fought and his grievous injuries, I concluded that he was likely to succumb to them. Yet, his intent seemed clear: to take us down with him or inflict as much damage on Anarion as possible. He behaved as any cornered animal might. Determined not to let that happen, I ordered Anarion to dive down just as the Sheepstealer was closing in on us. Obediently, Anarion plunged, and we once again found ourselves navigating the mountain valleys.

Sheepstealer roared and attempted to follow us, but his injuries rendered him much slower than Anarion. As I observed the mountain and forest illuminated by Anarion with the aid of smoke for cover, I commanded Anarion to encircle the mountain. As we completed the circle, Sheepstealer came into view. He was directly in front of us, with no distance between us, leaving him no time to defend or react promptly. Before Sheepstealer could even attempt a defense, Anarion surged ahead and then dove down, using his weight to crash Sheepstealer against the cliffside, his two ram horns piercing Sheepstealer's underbelly. The impact reverberated through the mountains, and Sheepstealer emitted a pained roar, his wild eyes briefly showing confusion.

I guided Anarion towards the smoke, and soon after, Sheepstealer emerged from the cliffside. With great effort, he soared into the sky, his eyes searching for Anarion. As Sheepstealer was about to fly over us, I whispered a command to Anarion in a low voice, "Veltir ziry bē sȳndor." Anarion began to gather fire in his throat and, sensing an opportunity, lunged forward with all his strength. He bit down on Sheepstealer's neck, his sharp teeth piercing deeply as he released his pent-up breath. Sheepstealer flailed, thrashing wildly, his fiery breath lighting up the air around them. However, he was powerless as Anarion's teeth sank deeper with each struggle, and the force of Anarion's fiery breath ended his suffering. ("Melt his head from the neck")

As we were in the sky Sheepstealer head and body started to fall towards the base of another mountain separately. Anarion, hovering above, let out a victorious roar. Despite his exhaustion and the blood that stained his white scales, he had emerged as the superior force. He started to circle Sheepstealer's body with roars of victory. I couldn't help but smile at his prideful act. 

Gently descending towards Sheepstealer, I began to unbuckle the straps and, with Anarion's assistance, touched down on the ground. The first thing I did was to assess the extent of the damage Sheepstealer had inflicted on my cherished companion. It appeared that during their second skirmish, Sheepstealer's claws had scratched Anarion's belly, though not severely enough to draw blood. These would only leave scars, having etched deeply into Anarion's hide. His wings bore a few tears, nothing that some time and magic couldn't mend. And while a few of his scales showed signs of scorching, it seemed that Sheepstealer's fiery breath had not penetrated Anarion's tough hide.

He would need some rest, and then he would be as good as new. After checking on him, I began to stroke his snout and praised him for our first victory together. He responded with happy, contented growls. Next, I took out the Valyrian steel sword and, donning dragon hide gloves, tried to skin Sheepstealer for his hide and heart. However, the Valyrian steel could not pierce his hide, so I began to remove his tough scales from the existing gashes on his body. After collecting as much as possible, I tried to pierce his underbelly to extract his heart. But the heat from his boiling blood became unbearable. Even with my fire resistance, which any ordinary Dragon lord lacks, I found the heat from the blood emerging from his underbelly too intense to handle.

So, I turned to the only one capable of withstanding such intense heat, and he gazed at me, trying to understand my actions and their purpose. After I carefully instructed him not to harm the inner organs or heart of Sheepstealer, Anarion began to peel the skin from its underbelly. In the next moment, the innards spilled out, and blood sprayed like a fountain. Sheltered under Anarion's wing, I was unscathed, and for Anarion, this degree of heat was negligible. Following the meticulous extraction, I located the heart and flung it into the trunk. I'll decide later if it can be utilized for a ritual or another purpose.

After instructing Anarion to incinerate the body of Sheepstealer until only his bones remained, we collected the bones. Then, we set off and headed north, passing by knights clad in armours who were traveling some miles from the location we had just left.

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