At the Truth Palace.
Viserys Targaryen stood on the balcony, his hands clasped behind his back as he gazed at the raging firestorm engulfing Drowned Town. His tall, lean figure combined with his determined face was bathed in the golden glow of the flames.
"A living dragon!"
Pantos' Magister, Illyrio, who had just jogged in, exclaimed upon seeing the scene.
"Your Highness." Illyrio approached him.
"Magister Illyrio, wasn't the Sealord supposed to have said that Braavos was the safest place? How did it end up like this?" Viserys did not move, nor did he turn around, simply speaking.
"Wright Baratheon is indeed a true Sorcerer. After today, his name will spread across the entire world," Illyrio wiped the sweat from his brow.
(Again, magic users are known in essos as Warlock or sorcerer, and not mage)
Viserys fell silent for a moment, then replied, "Only the dragonflame of our family's dragons could have this kind of power."
Illyrio didn't respond, thinking to himself, "The dragons of your family have been extinct for nearly a hundred years."
Viserys turned to him, "Take me away from Braavos! The farther, the better!"
"Your Highness, please rest assured, I've prepared the ship. It's dangerous outside now, but with so many ships trying to escape, we can slip away amidst the chaos." Illyrio began to walk away but stopped after noticing that Viserys hadn't moved. He turned back, saying, "Your Highness, we must leave at once! If we don't, it will be too late."
Viserys stayed in place, not turning around. "Hmm, come help me."
Illyrio reached out to grab Viserys, only to find his entire body tense, muscles rigid. His hands were gripping the armrest so tightly that veins were visibly bulging. Illyrio struggled with great effort to pry his fingers open, and with much difficulty, helped him to his feet and slowly walked him out.
The firestorm over Drowned Town gradually came to an end. The shattered stones and burning wooden fragments began to fall.
The remnants of the buildings and the ground below were still scorching hot, with smoldering wood sending out sparks. The sea breeze, combined with the rising heat, blew dust and thick smoke into the sky, creating a rolling cloud of ash.
Wright stood amidst the ruins, gasping for breath. All his magic had dissipated, his pants and shoes — made of high-quality ordinary fabric — were torn apart by the storm. By the time only his underwear remained, he had stopped the storm magic.
The effects of the restorative potion had worn off, and after sensing his remaining magic, there was barely anything left. His stamina was nearly exhausted.
"The Golden Company is wiped out, but there's clearly more of them. They must have people outside the city, and after receiving the news, they might come for me. Then there's the Sealord's army. If another battle happens, I'll have to run. But the Sealord's debt must be paid."
Wright slowly headed toward the Sealord's palace in the north, taking his time to regain some strength. With a flick of his hand, he summoned a flame sprite with the little magic he had left.
Having a vicious dog by his side usually kept trouble at bay. With the devastation he had caused, and now with the flame sprite at his side, as long as he didn't show weakness, anyone who still dared approach him would have to be out of their mind.
The Braavos navy and city guards, assisting the citizens in extinguishing the fires, saw the firestorm over Drowned Town die down and gradually began gathering toward this area. However, many pieces of burning wood were still scattered around, and the intense smoke and heat made it impossible to approach. They had no choice but to maintain order outside the ruins, preparing to put out the fires.
On one of the burning streets, the fire spontaneously extinguished, creating a path. Through the thick smoke, two figures emerged, causing the surrounding soldiers to become anxious.
"Alert! All weapons ready!" The calm officer issued orders, and the soldiers formed a defensive line, waiting for the "enemies" to emerge from the smoke and heat.
The two "enemies" slowly walked out of the smoke.
The most striking figure was a woman, roughly two meters tall. Her body was mostly made of black molten rock, forming the shape of a woman, with hollow sections filled with burning flames. Two curved molten horns rose from her head, her face was featureless except for a chin, and the top of her head was hollow, filled with fire.
Though she wasn't human, her figure was graceful. She floated above the ground as she moved, leaving a trail of burning fire behind her. A man walked half a step behind her - such a bizarre creature was merely a servant!
The man was tall and muscular, his body bare except for a pair of shorts. His black hair and strange blood-red skin, dotted with small wounds, gave him an eerie appearance. He held a black longsword in his hand.
"Devil!"
"Monster!"
The soldiers, realizing the source of the devastation, knew this was the one responsible for the disaster. But no one dared to approach.
Wright ignored them and walked past. The soldiers instinctively cleared a path, retreating as they backed away. Some fled around a corner, disappearing from sight, while others retreated to the walls and were squeezed by their companions until they could not move, not daring to even breathe.
The atmosphere was unnervingly quiet, broken only by the sound of armor and weapons scraping and the crackling of flames from the woman's body.
Wright walked unhurriedly, gradually regaining his strength. As he passed a small bridge near the Palace Of Truth, he sensed a magical reaction.
The long canal was filled with ships. Wright jumped onto the bridge's railing, focusing on identifying which ship the magical energy was coming from, while the flame sprite floated beside him.
On one of the ships, Illyrio, Viserys, and his sister Daenerys sat in silence. The sound of sailors working and the occasional collision with other ships filled the air, as everyone was fleeing. The atmosphere was heavy and tense.
"Do you see that?"
"A fireman!"
Hearing more and more voices shouting outside, Illyrio and Viserys stepped out from the cabin and onto the deck. They saw a man with red skin standing on the bridge's railing, seemingly searching for something, with a "woman" entirely made of flames beside him.
"Wright Baratheon!" Illyrio, whose intelligence network was vast, instantly recognized Wright from his physique, hair color, and the dark sister in his hand, despite the color change.
"Wright Baratheon's quite the little celebrity?" Daenerys, who had also stepped out of the cabin, wondered, eyeing Wright in the distance with curiosity.
Illyrio gently replied, "He usually looks like one of us, but I don't know much about mages."
Daenerys was growing more and more beautiful. Illyrio, though, began to develop certain thoughts about her, but his respect for her status kept him from acting on them.
Viserys and Daenerys watched from a distance, trying to memorize the face of their enemy.
Far away, Wright straightened up and raised the dark sister in his right hand, the sword's tip pointing toward the position of Viserys and the others.
"I found you!"
In Braavos, there were quite a few pure-blooded Valyrians, and Wright had encountered many in the streets. But on this ship was a man who appeared to be a few years older than Wright, along with a young girl around one ten or two ten, and the girl had a magical aura!
Wright's magical perception had its limits, and since the Palace Of Trutg was on an island in the middle of the water, it was out of his range. It had originally been a safe hiding spot. But with the group now fleeing, the port near the palace was congested with ships, and they couldn't move quickly enough, which made them run right into Wright.
Having just gone through a battle, Wright was still riding the high of his victory and didn't care about any "Dragon Mother" or whatever. He figured it was better to kill the wrong person than let anyone escape — both of them were out of luck!
"Shh\~\~" The flame sprite, unable to speak, followed Wright's command. Its flames intensified, producing a crackling sound.
The flame sprite raised its arms, and several fireballs the size of human heads shot from its palms toward the direction indicated by Wright's dark sister.
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