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Game Of Thrones: I Became a Crown Prince For a Day

[ In the prequel to Game of Thrones, titled "Dragon Family," Rhaegar defies the odds by surviving despite being destined to die young. Despite his sickness and loss of birthright, he refuses to surrender, embarking on a quest to explore and conquer the Seven Kingdoms. Along the way, he discovers the secrets of the Black Death's Skull, gaining a 50% increase in fire resistance from the dragon's legacy. He also encounters the auspicious white deer, receiving blessings for a long life. Delving into Blackfire and the Dark Sisters, he acquires the King's Gaze and the Knight's Oath. Rhaegar's journey sees him riding dragons, claiming the Iron Throne, and resisting the manipulations of opportunists. As winter approaches, he remains resolute, ready to face whatever challenges come his way atop his dragon steed. ] (*Important Note* In the original narrative (Lore), the one day heir prince was named Baelon, in honor of Viserys's father. However, the author, disliking the name Baelon, opted for Rhaegar, inspired by the Prince Rhaegar in Game of Thrones.) ("I don’t own this fanfic, it's merely a translation. I didn’t do the translation, but I wanted to read it on Webnovel, so I uploaded it here.")

MohaXx · Ti vi
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694 Chs

Chapter 649: A Feast Divided Among Dragons

As far as the eye could see, the dense jungle trembled slightly, revealing a sharp dragon's tail as pale as marble.

"Roar..."

The Cannibal roared fiercely, puffing out its chest as it dove at high speed.

Rhaegar's body shook as the pale color burst into his vision, and he immediately shouted, "Attack! Don't let it get away!"

I found it!

I finally ran into it!

"Roar..."

The pale Dragonfire burst from the jungle, its emaciated body charging forward, tattered wings flapping desperately in an attempt to escape.

Boom!

The Cannibal did not dodge or avoid; instead, it crashed head-on into the searing Dragonfire, opening its enormous abyssal maw in pursuit.

The pale wild dragon glanced back, its vertical pupils filled with disbelief. Behind it, the giant dragon was covered in hard, jet-black scales that glistened with a metallic sheen in the firelight. It was strong and fierce, like a colossus carved from Dragonstone.

"Roar...."

A shrill dragon roar, like a sonic wave, squeezed from its throat as its tattered wings beat hard, its sinuous body rising into the air.

Among dragons of the same size, the burly ones had more explosive power than the slender ones. The size difference between the two was immense—more than double—and the gap in fighting ability was like night and day.

"Roar..."

The Cannibal's green pupils glowed with excitement as it flapped its wings, its thick tail sweeping through the jungle. It could sense it—the decrepit old dragon was a Dragoneater, a species that devoured its own kind.

Normally, Dragoneaters were rare, with only one appearing in a generation. But when two Dragoneaters met in the same era, the cruel nature in their blood would erupt. The other was the best nutrient for their growth.

"Dracarys!" Rhaegar's heart surged with excitement, his murderous intent impossible to hide.

The two enormous beasts—one white, one black—soared into the sky together like yin and yang, circling each other in perfect balance.

Boom!

The pale wild dragon dove headlong into the clouds, its tattered scales blending perfectly with the thick mist. The Cannibal slowed its pace, clearing a path with a pillar of eerie green dragonfire.

"Roar..." The Cannibal streaked through the sky like a dark meteor, its massive body engulfing the Pale Wild Dragon. Its jaws opened wide, aiming for the dragon's neck.

Boom!

The Pale Wild Dragon suddenly twisted, spewing pale Dragonfire from its head as it coiled its long body into a bow shape. The flames, however, missed the black scales.

Sizzle!

At the last second, the Cannibal reacted with lightning speed, shifting its attack. Instead of striking with its jaws, it lashed out with its hind legs, the claws strong enough to split mountains and crush stone, hooking into the pale dragon's back.

Large pieces of scales shattered, and foul dragon blood sprayed into the air.

"Roar..."

The Cannibal let out a long howl, tilting its head back as its claws gripped its opponent fiercely. It spun through the air like a black falcon, twisting with brutal precision. Its massive body carved a semicircle in the sky, dragon wings beating with all their might.

With a sickening rip of flesh and bone separating, the pale wild dragon was flung away like a kite with its string cut.

"Dracarys, Cannibal!" Rhaegar's voice cracked as he roared hoarsely, his body trembling. The emotions of man and dragon intertwined, the desire to hunt rising like a storm. Today, there will be no rest until death!

"Grunting..." The Cannibal regained its balance, mouth wide open as it swallowed the chunk of flesh torn from the pale dragon, sending a torrent of searing heat from its nostrils.

In the next moment, the Tyrant of Dragons, its mind consumed with hunger, dove downward. A blast of greenish Dragonfire, like burning ash, showered the battlefield.

The pale wild dragon, still reeling from the fall, was engulfed in the flames. Its grey-white wings flapped in slow, rusted movements.

Drip... Drip...

It glanced back, seeing two deep, bloody pits gouged into its back, blood flowing endlessly. Its wings, flapping weakly on either side of the wounds, exposed its dark shoulder blades to the air. The dragon's body, already emaciated, was barely covered by a thin layer of scales. No wonder it couldn't fly...

Boom!

The black dragon swooped down, its ferocious jaws slamming into the slender dragon's neck, fangs sinking deep into the scales.

"Roar..."

The pale dragon writhed helplessly as the Cannibal's fangs crushed into its flesh. "Well done, Cannibal," Rhaegar murmured, watching with cold intensity as the Pale Wild Dragon endured every moment of its agony. Without issuing another command, he stood still, waiting for death to claim his foe.

The Pale Wild Dragon had killed Aemon and his dragon—now, it was paying with its life.

Crunch...

The Cannibal's green, vertical pupils were pitiless as its massive jaws slowly closed around its opponent's neck, the abyss devouring it bit by bit.

"Sss... Roar..."

Suddenly, the pale wild dragon thrashed wildly, its slender body coiling like a snake as it climbed onto the Cannibal's chest. Its sharp claws pierced through the solid black scales with a loud crack. Blood sprayed as the pale dragon's desperate attack landed, staining the air with crimson droplets.

"Sss... Roar..."

The Cannibal roared in pain, clamping its jaws even tighter as sticky, green Dragonfire spewed from its mouth. The pale wild dragon, its consciousness fading as it neared death, opened its massive jaws. The ferocity of the Dragoneater surged within it, triggering an instinctual, last-ditch counterattack.

Its claws dug deeper into the Cannibal's searing flesh, desperately trying to tear out its opponent's entrails.

For a brief moment, the green vertical pupils of the Cannibal turned cold. Its chest muscles compressed with force as it sank its teeth further into the pale dragon.

"Release it!" Rhaegar suddenly commanded, yanking hard on the reins that controlled the dragon.

A flicker of surprise crossed the Cannibal's eyes, but it obeyed. Twisting its neck, it loosened its grip on the dying dragon and, with a powerful flap of its wings, kicked the pale wild dragon away with brutal force.

Boom!

The Cannibal's large claw struck its opponent's waist, and the pale wild dragon let out a miserable shriek, its body tumbling uncontrollably through the air. The vicious blows to both its upper and lower body had left it nearly paralyzed.

The Cannibal prepared to pounce again, but a sharp tug on the reins stopped it in its tracks.

"Let it run, mate," Rhaegar's voice was as cold as winter frost, his face ashen. There was no need to chase a crippled foe. This Dragoneater would die soon enough—and it would suffer in the most agonizing way.

"Roar..."

The pale wild dragon plummeted, barely managing to slow its descent before crashing into the jungle with a thunderous noise, knocking down trees in a wide swath.

For a long moment, there was silence. Then, slowly, the pale wild dragon raised its head, shaking it in a daze. With what little sanity remained, it flapped its battered wings and began to soar low across the horizon, fleeing toward the distance.

Its survival instinct drove it now, carrying it toward the sea—back to the land of its birth.

...

Basilisk Isles.

The Pale Wild Dragon gasped heavily, its wounds oozing blood as it desperately tried to speed up. It flew over the scattered islands of the Basilisk Isles, heading straight for the distant coast at the edge of the continent of Sothoryos.

Whoosh

The ancient sound of a horn echoed across the azure sky.

A dragon as black as coal soared through the clouds, its vast wings blotting out the blinding sun and casting a massive shadow over the Pale Wild Dragon.

"Roar..."

"Roar!"

The black dragon's roar reverberated in every direction like rolling thunder. The Pale Wild Dragon's dull pupils flickered with a spark of light as it heard the horn, urging itself to fly harder. But just moments later, its shoulder blades snapped, and its massive body plummeted uncontrollably.

With a thunderous crash, it landed on an island in the middle of the sea, miraculously surviving the fall. The island was overgrown with shrubs, and the coast of Sothoryos was several miles away. Beyond the azure waters, a green-capped sleeping volcano towered on the horizon, overlooking a deep, bottomless canyon.

"Chirp, chirp..."

A flock of birds fluttered around, scavenging pale bone fragments from the dragon's crash, hiding them in the bushes to build their nests.

"Roar..."

The Pale Wild Dragon lay in a daze, staring in awe at the scene before it. Its emaciated body was twisted unnaturally, and foul-smelling blood oozed from its jagged mouth of broken teeth. Shadows crept over it, slowly enveloping its narrow, vertical pupils.

A dragon's claw, black as coal, came into view, crushing down on the Pale Wild Dragon's head.

"Eat it," Rhaegar muttered coldly, his voice as unforgiving as steel. "Let it atone for the mistakes it made."

The Cannibal's green vertical pupils gleamed with grim satisfaction. It lowered its head and bit into the Pale Wild Dragon's neck, its fangs sinking deep, the sound of bones cracking echoing across the island.

"Roar... crack..."

The Pale Wild Dragon's last cry was weak and melodic, its vertical pupils slowly closing as it succumbed to its fate.

"Roar..."

With a final, sickening snap, the black dragon crushed the Pale Wild Dragon's neck. Its monstrous jaws clamped down, tearing the bloodied head from its body. Blood sprayed into the air, staining the blue sky a deep red before falling to the ground, where it corroded the withered soil below.

The crazed Dragoneater had fallen, lifeless, its body spewing blood like a fountain from its broken neck.

"You deserve to die," Rhaegar whispered, his violet eyes deep and cold as a pool of still water. His face was splattered with blood, but his gaze remained fixed. He saw something.

"Croak~~"

A dull, grey dream toad lay on its back, mouth wide open as it inhaled wisps of grey smoke. The smoke drifted from the lifeless head of the Pale Wild Dragon, its eyes closed forever.

Rhaegar's eyes were wide open, his calm breathing now slightly labored. Fragments of a dream not his own began to seep into his mind.

A dark cave, a canyon with a winding stream, the rotting corpse of a dragon...

A pale young dragon with a deformed body hatched from a greyish-white egg. Its body was thin and snake-like, thick fangs pushing its jaws apart, and its horns twisted together in a grotesque tangle.

"Another failure."

"Catch it—we can still raise it."

A familiar red-robed man entered the scene, grabbing the pale young dragon by the neck and carrying it off like a helpless chick.

The scene shifted.

The skinny pale wild dragon lived among the towering Fourteen Flames, devouring young dragons and dragon eggs. Driven away by its kin, it was forcibly domesticated by humans. Its temperament grew increasingly deranged until, one day, it bit the rider on its back and fled to the barren continent of its birth.

Pop~~

The dream fragments shattered like soap bubbles, and the final image showed the pale dragon, stained with blood, biting a young green dragon to pieces.

Kacha—

A sharp cracking sound rang in Rhaegar's ears, jolting him from the dream. The Cannibal had snapped the Pale Wild Dragon's head in its powerful jaws, swallowing it in two bites, licking its lips with a scarlet tongue.

"Roar!"

"Roar..."

The skies echoed with the roars of circling dragons, watching a the corpse the wild dragon fell. The Cannibal's green vertical pupils flashed with disdain as it spat a mouthful of Dragonfire at the remains, then flew away with a leisurely flap of its wings.

Click.

Caraxes and Meleys were the first to land, tearing apart the grey dragon's wings from both sides, blood dripping from their jaws as they chewed the flesh. Syrax and Sunfyre arrived last, clawing open the belly of the corpse, their golden heads diving in to devour the entrails.

In no time, the entire body was dismembered.

"Roar!"

In the distance, an ugly, rotting mud dragon lay chewing on a half-charred human corpse, its vertical pupils filled with confusion. Is that thing even edible?

Above them, Dreamfyre circled slowly, its docile nature keeping it from joining the feast. Nearby, Seasmoke and Tessarion hovered impatiently, but neither dared to challenge the four dragons below.

Rhaegar silently watched the scene unfold, absently stroking the dark scales beneath him. The Pale Wild Dragon's name was unknown, but it had hatched from the same clutch of eggs as Uragax. Though decades apart in age, both were aberrations—genetic experiments. Uragax had been a relative success, but the Pale Wild Dragon suffered from mental and physical defects.

"Roar..." The Cannibal growled, its blood boiling with excess energy that begged for release.

The Pale Wild Dragon had been very old, at least two hundred years, its flesh dry and aging. It held a medicinal quality that hastened ripening, making it unsuitable for adult dragons to eat, yet dangerously alluring to younger and middle-aged dragons.

"Roar!"

Syrax, typically gentle, plucked a dark red dragon heart from the remains and swallowed it whole.

On her dragon's back, Rhaenyra watched with fierce eyes brimming with tears.

The great revenge had been taken.

(Word count: 2,226)