"A marriage vow..."
Rhaegar paused, stunned for a moment.
The small lines of text revealed the traditional marriage vows of the Dragonlords of Ancient Valyria.
He pondered briefly and then had a rough idea.
Marriage, blood, scales...
The method of activation might require two people connected by blood. The prerequisite: Targaryen blood.
Rhaegar pursed his lips and smiled. "This will be a bit difficult to decipher."
He vaguely sensed that the ashes of the Fourteen Flames could activate the precious dragon relics in question. This intuition, though elusive, felt very real.
Flipping the tattered scales in his hand, he realized he would need to return to Westeros to find someone to help.
With a flick of his wrist, the scales disappeared.
In their place appeared a Valyrian steel carving knife, inscribed with codified runes. The knife was only about the length of a palm, its surface covered with rough and unfamiliar inscriptions, and its blade exceptionally sharp.
Rhaegar touched the space necklace around his neck, a relic from the morning's harvest.
The system panel font shifted.
[Valyrian Steel. Space Necklace]
Exploration Progress: 100%
The retrieval and detection screen jumped to the next message.
"Congratulations, the space necklace has been activated and you have obtained..."
[Carving Knife]
Grade: Excellent (Blue)
Function: Excellent Carving
Evaluation: "Proficient in various carving techniques, simulating ancient carving methods."
The trigger condition was simple: fire magic, common to Pyromancers and Bloodmages.
Rhaegar flipped the carving knife in his hand and then retrieved the space necklace a moment later. For now, it would not function.
"It might be necessary to hone the craft until it imitates the mystical inscriptions on other relics," he mused.
He looked at the knife in confusion. "I can carve stone, but what else do I need?"
Rhaegar knew little about the ancient techniques that the knife required.
"Roar..."
Cannibal growled lowly, carrying Rhaegar as it climbed up next to the stone platform. Each step collapsed large swaths of the plaza's stone floor.
Rhaegar shook his head slightly, considering learning some woodcarving, forging, and other skills. "I need to be trained in various crafts," he thought.
Just as he was contemplating this, Cannibal lowered its neck, bringing the saddle of its spine level with the stone platform.
"Good work, partner."
Rhaegar smiled and jumped off the dragon's back with a thud.
In contrast, Meleys crept to the periphery of the platform, allowing Rhaenys to climb down the soft ladder under the escort of the Fearless. The human-dragon bond was evident in their coordinated movements.
"Prince!"
Gray Worm held his spear and stood tall.
Behind him, dozens of old nobles knelt, staring at Rhaegar with faces full of abhorrence. Among them were leaders of the old nobles and implicated family members, representing about two-thirds of Myr's old noble power.
Rhaegar surveyed them repeatedly, smiled faintly, and asked, "Do you plead guilty?"
The words immediately drew backlash.
"You demon, intruder!"
"A dragon-worshipping demon as brutal as your ancestors."
"You invade our homes and take away our slaves..."
Whimpering and raucous, the old nobles who once held their identities with pride now raged like common street vendors, breaking into a fit without any decorum.
Rhaegar's ears hurt from the noise. He walked towards the higher platform, a place of higher authority. Gray Worm turned to follow, waving his hand at the Unsullied guards.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The Unsullied were expressionless, their spears turning on one end, and their big sticks delivering bang-bang-whacks.
At once, the shouting and cursing stopped, replaced by wailing and cries of pain.
Rhaenys took three or two steps onto the high platform, crossing over the disorganized old nobles.
All bark and no bite, they were just a bunch of paper tigers.
"Roar!"
Just then, Cannibal roared into the sky, a mouthful of ethereal green Dragonfire clashing high above. Instantly, both the old nobles on the platform and the civilian slaves in the square fell silent.
Thousands of pairs of eyes fixated on Rhaegar on the platform.
Rhaegar's face remained calm, accustomed to the weight of everyone's gaze.
"Roar!"
Cannibal ceased its Dragonfire, but its throat continued to emit a suppressed low growl.
Rhaegar stood with his arms folded, the black dragon's head hanging beside him. One man and one dragon, embodying the presence of a king.
Clattering...
The civilians and slaves fell to their knees in unison, shivering under the gaze of the Dragonlord and the evil dragon. No one dared to face their fear head-on.
Rhaegar looked down upon them, a sense of grandeur rising in his heart. He shouted loudly, "Stand up!"
Silence filled the square. Except for the Fearless and the Knights of the Vale, no one dared to rise.
"I said stand up!" Rhaegar shouted a second time.
The civilians and slaves trembled. A few rose in fear, but most remained indifferent.
"Rhaegar." Rhaenys, standing to the side, tried to warn him. The power in Myr still lay with the old nobles and slave owners, not with the downtrodden slaves who had lost their spirit of resistance over the years.
"Aunt, the Narrow Sea War is over, and there shouldn't be so many more deaths," Rhaegar said, his eyebrows softening as he interrupted her.
In Lys, he had gathered a group of old nobles and wealthy merchants to stabilize order. But here in Myr, seeing that the nobles could not be practical, he had a new reform strategy in mind.
Turning his back on Gray Worm, he waved his hand gently.
Gray Worm nodded heavily and gave the order.
A few Unsullied's eyes glazed over, and their spears fought to stab the old nobles in front of them.
Pfft...
The iron spearhead pierced into their body, churning the internal organs as the Unsullied twisted their hands.
"Hoo~"
Two men, one woman, and one old man, four old nobles, fell to the ground in agony, their blood soaking their elaborate clothes.
Within moments, they were dead.
The Unsullied moved nimbly, pulling out the spears and piercing the jaws again, lifting the bodies and hanging them above the high platform.
A grim public display.
The remaining old nobles who witnessed this scene were crazed with fear, squealing and struggling.
The Unsullied showed no mercy, swinging their spears and beating them into submission.
All of this was observed by the commoners and slaves.
"The old oppression is over, you should stand up!" Rhaegar shouted.
Swish...
Seeing their former masters executed, many slaves stood up excitedly.
There was nothing more uplifting than seeing those who had enslaved them put to death.
Rhaegar deepened the divide, transforming the conflict between the old nobility and the Targaryens into a conflict between the old nobility and the slave class.
The root cause of the unrest was rebellion against Targaryen rule. What Rhaegar wanted to do was show the people the evils of the old rulers before they turned against him.
A sea breeze blew, spreading the smell of blood from the corpses throughout the square.
All the slaves smelled it, eager to take their revenge.
Rhaegar looked on and asked aloud, "The old nobles and slave masters have oppressed you mercilessly. The commoners struggled to eat and the slaves were harassed. Why did you join them in rebellion?"
Deadly silence.
Rhaegar looked around and continued, "Now the old nobles and slave owners are lambs to the slaughter. No one dares oppress you anymore. Shouldn't you be happy?"
The commoners and slaves looked at each other in dismay, realizing the truth in his words.
Slowly, they found the courage to rise.
Rhaegar waved his hand again, his voice stern, "There are no slaves in Westeros, and with Myr under the jurisdiction of the Iron Throne, there is no longer any need for enslaved people!"
As the words fell, ten Unsullied stepped forward, raised their spears, and ran through an equal number of old nobles.
The commoners and slaves were in an uproar, hugging each other in twos and threes and staring in fear.
For the new rulers, they had only fear. They feared that if they displeased them, the dragon would burn them to death.
Rhaegar didn't care. All he needed was blood for blood to cleanse the commoners and slaves of their allegiance to the old nobles and make them accept Targaryen rule.
Gray Worm dragged an old nobleman by the hand and knocked him down in front of Rhaegar.
The old nobleman had a pair of triangular eyes, his body was as thin as a reed, and he emitted a foul odor.
At that moment, three people stepped off the stage.
A wealthy man in rich clothes, a commoner with a weathered face, and a slave with scars all over his body.
A woman and two men, none of them very old.
The three people walked onto the high stage and stood at Gray Worm's gesture.
Without turning his head, Rhaegar snapped, "Tell me, what evil has this old man at your feet done?"
The slave was the first to rush forward, his dark-skinned face flushed with rage as he shouted angrily, "He has killed many innocent slaves, snatched the young children of slaves and toyed with them to death, both male and female!"
Another man also stepped forward and spoke angrily, "He privately raised taxes in the harbor, forcing the fishermen to sell their wives and daughters to him at a low price when they couldn't afford to pay the taxes!"
The three men took turns speaking, exposing the old noble's heinous crimes one after another, each more disgusting and outrageous than the last.
This was the norm among the captured old nobles.
As their sins were listed, the commoners and slaves in the square gritted their teeth, their eyes reddening with empathy and rage.
In a free-trading city-state like Myr, some commoners and slaves did live better lives.
But it was never them.
Whenever life fell short, anyone had the right to resent.
Swish!
Rhaegar drew Truefyre, and with a swing of his pitch-black sword, he decapitated the old noble.
Tens of thousands of eyes stared at him in unison.
Rhaegar held his sword in both hands and declared, "The old nobles and slave traders have forced you to kneel by worldly law; the Targaryens want you to stand!
"There are no slaves in Westeros, the Iron Throne treats everyone the same!"
His voice was deafening and went straight to the heart.
At that moment, his silver hair and purple eyes were imprinted in the eyes of all civilians and slaves.
He replaced their stereotypes of brutality and evil dragons by ideals of equality and justice.
A kneeling slave angrily rose up, tearing his voice to shout.
"Long live the Targaryens!"
A stone sent up a thousand ripples.
More slaves rose to their feet and raised their voices.
"Long live the Targaryens!"
"Long live the Dragonlord!"
Above the Fish execution square, not a single civilian or slave remained kneeling; all stood straight.
Their eyes burned, their voices broke, all looking at one person.
Rhaegar Targaryen.
At this moment, Rhaegar also looked at them and raised his hand in a strong wave.
The Unsullied struck quickly, stabbing all the old nobles on the stage through the chest.
One of them cursed loudly in his final moments, "Invaders! The other free trade city-states won't let you go!"
Rhaegar calmly replied, "It is not the Targaryens who destroyed you, it is your insatiable greed."
Without their own oppression and enslavement, this day would not have come.
"Roar!"
With a growl, the Cannibal's huge body climbed to the side of the high platform, its green vertical pupils staring at the detained crowd of disorganized people.
In front of the civilians and slaves, Rhaegar raised his eyebrows and said aloud, "The Targaryens brings peace and justice, but it does not allow for questioning or harm."
"In the name of Viserys I Targaryen, I sentence the rebels to death!"
After saying this, he looked sideways at the Cannibal and mouthed the dragon-taming words, "Dracarys!"
The words were spoken in High Valyrian, containing waves of arcane and powerful magic.
Its meaning was: Burn them all.
The Cannibal's vertical pupils flashed with cruelty, and its jaws opened wide.
"Roar--"
The monstrous Dragonfire swept out, enveloping thousands of people like smoke and mist, turning the square into a sea of green dragonfire.
(Word count: 2,054)