After eating and drinking his fill, Lancelot went off alone to practice the "Spark Spell."
He stood before a patch of weeds, extending his right hand forward with his palm facing the ground, chanting the incantation Melisandre had taught him.
A cluster of sparks appeared. Lancelot grasped them in his palm and threw them.
The weeds at his feet instantly caught fire.
"Well, I've learned the Spark Spell, but this power level... it doesn't seem lethal," Lancelot thought with some frustration.
He had tested it before: throwing a handful of sparks at a person only caused a mild burning sensation, nothing more. Unless the target was dry hay or cotton—highly flammable materials—the sparks alone couldn't ignite anything substantial. Even wood, if it was thick enough, wouldn't catch easily.
Finished with his magic practice, Lancelot switched to swordsmanship.
With a fine blade like Brightroar in his possession, how could he not put it to good use?
Lancelot found an open space and began practicing sword forms on his own. Half an hour later, Melisandre approached him.
"Ser Lancelot. If you have mastered the Spark Spell, we can move on to learning a new magic!"
"New magic? Great, let's do it!"
Lancelot was immediately interested.
They sat facing each other as Melisandre demonstrated the new spell for Lancelot: the "Fire Butterfly."
"The Fire Butterfly is far more powerful than the Spark Spell, and it allows for ranged attacks. Look at that wine jug thirty feet away."
Melisandre pointed to an empty rum jug. She deftly manipulated her left hand, pointing her fingers toward the target.
A fiery red butterfly flew from her palm, crashing into the jug. Upon impact, the jug instantly shattered.
"See? What do you think of the power?" Melisandre lowered her hand and looked at Lancelot.
"It might not be fatal, but it's certainly enough to catch someone off guard," Lancelot remarked.
The power of the Fire Butterfly was roughly equivalent to smashing a wine bottle over someone's head—not necessarily lethal, but definitely painful. If aimed at the face, particularly the eyes, it could cause blindness.
"I will teach you the specific incantation and hand gestures."
Lancelot spent another two hours studying with Melisandre until he mastered the incantation and gestures. Then, he began practicing on his own.
After nightfall, the temperature dropped, and the stars shone brilliantly. The night sky was clear, devoid of dark clouds, and moonlight bathed the earth, coating everyone in silver.
"Now, let's resume the search for the ruins. The treasure hunt continues!"
Lancelot personally led the remaining soldiers, spreading out to search for the old site of House Constantine.
Although it was said to be near Oros, five hundred years had passed, and it was possible the ruins had been buried by sand and wind.
Lancelot and Melisandre arrived at the spot where she had previously sensed the power of fire.
"The evil presence inside has vanished. How strange," Melisandre said after sensing the area again.
"Is the fire power still there?" Lancelot asked.
"It is, but it's much weaker! Like a newborn babe. It is no longer as powerful as before," she continued.
"It seems the treasure buried in these ruins has already been taken or destroyed!"
Lancelot strongly suspected the monsters in the Smoking Sea or the Three-Eyed Raven greenseer; their presence here might not have been coincidental.
"Take me to the source of the fire," Lancelot said.
Melisandre led him through layers of rubble to a cave entrance that showed obvious signs of excavation.
"These scratch marks... they look new? And they're so large. Could it be..." Looking at the cave entrance, which resembled a dragon's lair, a thought inevitably rose in Lancelot's mind.
"It's a dragon's nest! There are signs of digging and fighting here!"
Melisandre pointed to the nearby scorched stone pillars and broken walls.
"We were nearby. Why didn't we hear anything?" Lancelot asked.
"Perhaps the dragon was controlled! Controlled by magic," Melisandre guessed.
"Let's go. Come with me inside to see what's in this dragon's lair."
Lancelot picked up a wooden stick wrapped in cloth, lit it with a Spark Spell, and led the way into the cave.
The interior of the dragon's lair was a long, narrow tunnel filled with a pungent odor. Lancelot had grown up in King's Landing and was used to the smell of horse urine there, but the stench here still made him gag.
"Cough, cough! As expected of a dragon! That smell really hits you!"
Deep inside the lair, Lancelot saw five oval stones of different colors, all with beautiful patterns.
"These are... dragon eggs!"
It was Lancelot's first time seeing dragon eggs. In King's Landing, he had visited the Dragonpit and seen the dragon skulls there, which were black due to their high iron content.
"Melisandre, are these dragon eggs?" Lancelot asked.
Melisandre walked over gently and picked one up with both hands. It was too large for one hand.
"I can tell you with certainty, Lancelot, these are dragon eggs. But you cannot hatch them!"
Melisandre gave Lancelot hope only to dash it immediately.
"Only descendants of the Dragonlord families can command dragons! But even among Dragonlord descendants, some never hatch a dragon egg in their lifetime. They are called 'Dragonless,' those abandoned by dragons."
Lancelot didn't lose interest.
"Who says I can't control a dragon? Even if they are just eggs now, and even if I don't have Dragonlord blood... the Valyrians went from shepherds to dragonriders. There's no reason others can't do the same!" Lancelot declared.
Although Melisandre didn't know where Lancelot got his confidence, she didn't argue further.
They packed all five dragon eggs into a bag and left the lair.
Lancelot had come to the Valyrian Ruins specifically to find dragon eggs and Brightroar. As for finding other treasures, that was mostly just talk. Even if there had been treasure, it was likely swallowed by lava during the Doom. The chances of it waiting intact for someone to claim were one in ten thousand.
Lancelot planned to leave the next day, but he didn't expect Podrick to bring him a pleasant surprise.
"Captain, while searching a ruin, the ground collapsed. There's a bottomless pit underneath," Podrick rushed over to report.
"Is there treasure inside?" Lancelot asked. He assumed it was a natural collapse and likely unrelated to treasure.
"Yes! We found a lot of antiques!"
Hearing about antiques, Lancelot's interest remained low.
Antiques in times of peace, gold in times of chaos, food in times of ruin.
Antiques weren't worth much right now, and there was a significant aesthetic gap between Westeros and Valyria. Even if they acquired a large number of antiques, selling them wouldn't be easy.
"Alright, take me to see it!"
Lancelot arrived at the sinkhole. He noticed the collapsed area wasn't actually that large; it looked as if a beast had burrowed out from underground.
"Wait until daybreak, then we'll do a large-scale search down there! Call everyone up for now," Lancelot ordered.
The next morning, Lancelot and the others guarding the sinkhole woke up.
After a hasty breakfast, they returned to the edge of the pit.
"We're going to build a 'Three-Army Bridge'! Then we'll send a large group down to search," Lancelot said.
"What is a Three-Army Bridge?" someone asked.
Lancelot drew a diagram on the ground for them. It involved three logs crossed over each other to distribute weight, allowing passage from three directions.
"What a clever design! By this logic, is there also a Four-Army Bridge?" Melisandre asked.
"As expected of a priestess of the Lord of Light! You catch on quick!" Lancelot praised.
"Start building the bridge! Make sure it's sturdy! If we run into danger down there, we need to be able to get back up."