"A crown prince is more than an heir; he is the future forged in the fires of his father's trials. His strength, wisdom, and resolve will shape the kingdom when the king's hand can no longer guide it. The weight of the crown may be heavy, but it is his duty to carry it, for the fate of the realm rests upon his shoulders."
****************** to ********************
The months passed in a blur of blood and conquest.
Aegon did not shy away from the truth of his coming fatherhood.
He did not see it as a weakness or a distraction.
He saw it for what it truly was a legacy in the making.
His child would be born in fire and blood, raised among warriors, and carry the blood of kings and conquerors.
The Dothraki woman Lyessa became an inseparable presence in his life.
She was not meek, nor was she overly demanding.
She did not try to tame him, nor did she expect tenderness from a man who thrived on war.
And yet…
In her presence, Aegon found something unexpected a quiet, unspoken understanding.
She knew when to speak and when to remain silent. She knew when to press close and when to give him space.
When he returned from battle, bloodied and victorious, she was the first to greet him.
She tended to his wounds. She watched over him as he slept. She whispered Dothraki proverbs in his ear words of warriors, of fire, of horses, and of blood.
And when night fell, she shared his bed.
Their passion had not diminished. If anything, it had deepened.
Even now, with her belly beginning to swell with their child, she refused to be cast aside like some fragile thing.
And the warriors of the khalasar took notice.
At first, it had been whispers among the warriors.
"She carries the Khal's seed."
The title had not been given lightly.
The Dothraki did not name just any woman Khaleesi only the chosen wife of a Khal, only one who held authority over the horde.
But Lyessa had not asked for the title.The warriors themselves had begun calling her Khaleesi.And Aegon had not denied it.Her presence was constant, her loyalty unwavering, and her blood now mixed with his own.That was enough for the Dothraki.
As Aegon's bond with Lyessa deepened, so too did his conquests.
The Dothraki Sea was vast, but Aegon's khalasar moved like an unstoppable storm, devouring everything in its path.
Small rival hordes were crushed. Weaker Khals were slain. Their warriors were given a choice surrender or death.
And so the horde swelled.
He was no longer just another Khal.
He was something more.
The Free Cities had always dismissed the Dothraki as disorganized savages, incapable of true leadership.
But with Aegon?
It was clearly turning into something truly dangerous.
And then came the faithful night.
The night was silent, save for the distant howls of the wind sweeping across the endless Dothraki Sea.
Aegon sat alone in his tent, his golden map of the land spread before him, but his eyes were not focused on the markers of his expanding horde.
Instead, they were locked on three dragon eggs resting before him.
One was pitch black, darker than the deepest abyss. One was pure white, gleaming like polished bone in the moonlight. One was deep red, the color of fresh blood spilled on the battlefield.
For months, he had waited, studied, and debated.
Now, he would wait no longer.
With a thought, Aegon summoned his system menu, his mind instantly drawn to his remaining points.
Name: Aegon Targaryen
Age: 15
Free Points: 31,000
Skills ( max skill level is 15/ normal people can only reach lv10 max in any skill): Swordsman (lv 10), dagger (lv 2) Archery (lv 10), Dothraki language (lv5), flame immunity, Warging(lv1) Blood magic proficiency(lv8), sacrificial magic proficiency(lv8)
Body: 260
Mind:220
Blood:10,410
Subordinates: Jacko, Baqo, Rakho, Vezho, Khalmor, Tegro, Khorro
"System use six hundred points to hatch the dragon eggs."
(Ding!! Hatching starting.)
At first, nothing happened.
The eggs sat motionless, as they always had.
But then, a low hum began to fill the tent.
The air grew hotter.
Aegon could feel it not just the heat, but something else entirely.
Something ancient. Something powerful. Something that had been dormant for centuries, now finally stirring.
The eggs cracked.
A thin line split across the surface of the black egg, followed by the white and red.
Then flames erupted.
Not wild, untamed fire.
But controlled flames, moving with an intelligence that should have been impossible.
The air shimmered. The ground shook. The tent itself felt like it would collapse under the sheer weight of ancient magic awakening.
And then, they emerged.
Three tiny creatures, wreathed in smoke and embers, crawled forth from their broken shells.
Their bodies were still small, but their presence was immense.
Aegon stared, and for the first time in his life… he felt something close to awe.
The first dragon, the black one, was the largest of the three.
Its scales were as dark as night, absorbing the light around them. Its eyes burned with an eerie golden hue, filled with intelligence beyond its size. It did not hiss. It did not screech. Instead, it watched Aegon in complete, calculating silence.
The second dragon, the white one, was the smallest.
Its scales were pale as snow, reflecting the firelight like polished silver. Its eyes were icy blue, sharp, and piercing. It let out a low chirp, spreading its tiny wings as if already testing its ability to fly.
The third dragon, the red one, was the most fierce-looking.
Its scales were deep crimson, resembling dried blood after a battle. Its eyes burned like molten lava, filled with an instinctual ferocity. It let out a snarl, revealing tiny, razor-sharp fangs as it flared its wings.
Aegon could feel them not just their heat, but their very presence.
A bond had been forged.
One that no man, no god, no force in the world could ever sever.
Name: Aegon Targaryen
Age: 15
Free Points: 30,400
Skills ( max skill level is 15/ normal people can only reach lv10 max in any skill): Swordsman (lv 10), dagger (lv 2) Archery (lv 10), Dothraki language (lv5), flame immunity, Warging(lv1) Blood magic proficiency(lv8), sacrificial magic proficiency(lv8)
Body: 260
Mind:220
Blood:10,410
Familiar: three unnamed dragons (Humans killed by a dragon will only give the host 0.5 points)
Subordinates: Jacko, Baqo, Rakho, Vezho, Khalmor, Tegro, Khorro