"Artex!"
Karl's voice echoed through the vast cavern, bouncing off stone walls lined with glittering treasure. The Dragon Cave was as magnificent as ever: towering piles of gold coins, stacks of gemstones glowing faintly in magical hues, chests overflowing with relics from conquered lands. But Karl paid no mind to the wealth. His attention, as always, was fixed solely on the colossal dragon resting atop the golden mountain at the center of the cavern.
Artex.
Even curled up and sleeping, she was massive—easily the size of a truck from Karl's previous life. Her wings were folded around her body like a feathery blanket made of black and violet scales. Each breath she took was deep and heavy, stirring the gold beneath her and releasing a faint metallic scent mixed with something sharper… blood. That was normal. Dragons were still creatures of tooth and claw, even when they pretended otherwise.
At Karl's call, Artex froze.
Then her eyelids snapped open, revealing irises like molten ruby. The dragon lifted her head slowly at first, her gaze sweeping the cavern with a predatory sense of alertness—until she saw him.
Her expression changed instantly.
"Karl?!"
The roar that followed was deafening.
It blasted through the cavern like a hurricane, shaking loose coins and rattling bones. Karl's hair flew back with the sheer force of it. He stumbled a step, grimacing as the echo kept thundering through the cave.
"Alright, alright—quiet! Calm down!" Karl shouted, waving both hands as though trying to pat the air back into silence.
Artex stopped only when she remembered her own strength. The echo faded, leaving Karl rubbing at his ringing ears.
Dragons in Westeros were wyverns—two legs, wings in place of arms, reptilian and cruel. But Artex was nothing like them. She was a true dragon of Western fantasy: four-limbed, winged, horned, intelligent, powerful, and capable of speech. And, of course, she could shapeshift into a humanoid dragon girl—something that would probably cause the entire Red Keep to faint if they ever witnessed it.
She also used magic, hoarded treasure, and had a temper that could melt steel.
But she wasn't ugly.
Karl had been relieved the first time he'd met her. The in-game CG art depicted her humanoid form terribly—awkward proportions, stiff animations, and what players lovingly called "elven goblin mode." Fortunately, the real-world manifestation was completely different. Artex's humanoid form was striking—tall, curvaceous, exotic, with an unmistakable draconic aura.
Still, the fact remained: she was blunt. Very blunt.
So when she lumbered down from her golden throne and lowered her massive snout to Karl's eye level, he already knew what was coming.
"Karl," she said in a deep, feminine voice that rumbled like distant thunder, "why did you come to find me today? Do you want to do—"
"Ahem!" Karl coughed violently, cutting her off before she finished the sentence. "No, no, definitely not that. I came because I needed to… discuss something else."
He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
Artex blinked, confused.
"Something else? Are you talking about that worthless stone of yours?"
Karl resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He followed her gaze toward the enormous velvet cushion she had been sleeping on. There, nestled in the center like a treasured ornament, was a golden egg the size of a football.
His dragon egg.
"Artex," Karl sighed, "I've told you a hundred times—that isn't a worthless stone. It's a dragon egg."
Artex tilted her massive head, unimpressed. "If it were a real dragon egg, wouldn't it have hatched by now?"
Karl pinched the bridge of his nose. He had expected this. She always said the same thing. And yet, Karl's eyes softened as he looked at the egg.
It was beautiful—truly beautiful.
Its surface glimmered with a deep golden sheen, layered with patterns like tiny gemstones etched into the shell. Each scale-like ridge held a metallic luster, sharp enough to cut skin if one handled it carelessly. The texture felt like a blend between polished metal and ceramic glaze—smooth, cold, and impossibly dense.
The egg felt alive.
Karl had spent five long years searching for it across Essos. Not because he was bored or wanted adventure—far from it. Life on the continent was harsh, unforgiving, and uncomfortable. He had missed real bathing, missed the conveniences of modern life, missed the simple comfort of a soft pillow.
But he persisted.
He traveled through the Free Cities, dealt with ruthless mercenary companies, fought off assassins, and sifted through rumors. Everywhere he went, he listened for whispers of lost dragons, artifacts, and ancient eggs.
And finally—after five years—he bought this golden egg from a wandering adventurer for a price high enough to purchase an entire ship.
Some might think he had been scammed.
But Karl knew better.
Dragon eggs—even petrified ones—were unmistakable. They had a weight, a feel, an aura. And Karl possessed magic to verify it. When he first held the egg, the system inside him reacted faintly—not fully, not actively, but enough to confirm that the egg was not just a carved stone.
He'd staked five years of his life on that hunch.
After obtaining the egg, Karl had crossed the Narrow Sea and returned to Westeros. The entire reason he stayed in King's Landing for half a year afterward was because he believed Artex could help hatch it.
But the results…
Were disappointing.
Karl had tried everything.
He placed the egg in bonfires until it glowed red-hot.
He soaked it with his own magic, letting mana seep through every scale.
He drenched it in magical potions.
He cast [Minor Healing] on it—over and over.
He even attempted strange magical combinations that players from his world joked about.
Nothing worked.
Not even Artex, who had far more dragon essence than anything in this world, could awaken it.
For half a year in real life—and nearly two and a half years of accelerated time in the game world—Artex had sat with the egg, infused it with dragon magic, kept it warm, chanted spells, and occasionally yelled at it.
No reaction.
Not a crack.
Not a pulse.
Nothing.
Artex eventually concluded that the egg was simply a weird golden rock.
Karl suspected something else.
Maybe this world—this hybrid fusion of game mechanics and Westerosi reality—was incomplete. A missing patch. A locked storyline. In the game, Artex was part of an unfinished questline that developers never released.
Maybe the same issue persisted here.
Maybe the world hadn't been updated.
And if the "update" never arrived…
What then?
Karl sighed deeply, tension weighing on his shoulders.
This egg wasn't just a treasure to him. It represented hope. Potential. A future where he held power untouchable by the kings and queens of Westeros.
A dragon—even just one—would change everything.
Artex watched him silently for a while, her tail swishing lightly behind her. Despite her teasing, she had grown attached to both Karl and the egg. She wanted to see it hatch almost as much as he did.
"Karl," she finally said, "are you sure it's not just a shiny rock?"
"I'm sure," he replied firmly. "This egg came from somewhere real. Somewhere powerful. I don't care if it takes more time. I'm not giving up."
Artex huffed, sending a gust of warm air across Karl's face.
"If you say so." She nudged the egg gently with her snout. "It still feels like a rock."
Karl walked closer and placed his hand on the egg. It was cool to the touch… but beneath that coolness was something faint. Something he could sense only because of the strange magic within him.
"Artex," he said quietly, "I think it's waiting."
"Waiting?" she repeated.
Karl nodded. "For something—maybe a condition, a trigger, an event. Something this world hasn't reached yet."
Artex lowered her head thoughtfully. "If that's true, then… what do you plan to do?"
Karl looked at the egg for a long time, his eyes reflecting its golden sheen.
"I'll keep trying," he said softly. "Until it wakes."
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)