Viserys suddenly looked up, following the sound. In the northeast, where the dust and smoke were thickest, a colossal black shadow was breaking through the grey-yellow smoke, climbing higher into the sky. Although far away, its enormous wingspan and graceful flight path unequivocally belonged to a true, living dragon.
Sunlight occasionally pierced through the dense smoke, reflecting a breathtaking, dark luster on its profound scales.
"A dragon... it's a dragon!" a soldier cried out, his voice filled with shock and fear.
The giant dragon circled in the air for a short while, then with a powerful flap of its wings, flew towards the more central area of the peninsula. Its figure was quickly swallowed by the rolling smoke and dust again, leaving only the thrilling echo of the dragon's roar.
On the platform, there was a deathly silence. Everyone was too stunned by this sudden, mythical sight to speak. Last night's Shadow Creature and all the hardships along the way seemed insignificant in the face of this truly living legendary creature.
Viserys's hand tightly gripped the hilts of "Blackfyre" and "Blood Shadow" at his waist, thinking that Marisus had not lied about everything after all. There were still living dragons in Valyria.
And Viserys's intuition told him that the direction the dragon flew was precisely where his dream guided him to go.
"Tell everyone to pack up quickly," Viserys turned to Ser Alliser and ordered, his voice somewhat urgent, "Return to the camp immediately, we need to prepare to continue our journey."
After some deliberation, Viserys made a decision.
The wounded and those with little combat capability, including old Captain Barze, a total of thirty-seven people, would be left in the castle. After repeated searches, and now without the threat of Shadow Creatures, the castle should be temporarily safe. Food and drinking water could last for about a month. However, the one remaining scholar insisted on following them.
"You just need to hold the fort," Viserys instructed those who stayed behind. "If we don't return within two weeks, you'll have to figure out how to get back yourselves."
He turned to the eighty-three people who could still barely fight. "This time, we will track in the direction the dragon flew."
There were no superfluous words. Those who stayed watched them leave from inside the castle gate. They departed from the back gate of the castle, so they did not have to face the Stone Men and Ash Crabs army down the mountain again. On the mountain path outside the gate, those monsters were still lingering but did not enter the castle's perimeter. It was unclear if this was because they hadn't sensed the Shadow Creature had been eliminated, or if something else was preventing their advance.
Finally, he led the team deeper into the peninsula, following the dragon's direction.
After two days of trekking up a steep black rock mountain, a breathtaking sight suddenly appeared before them.
In the valley below the mountain, a lake of "boiling oil" was gurgling. Called "boiling oil," it was actually unsolidified lava gushing out, constantly bubbling and emitting a pungent sulfurous mist. Even standing on the ridge, they could feel the heat waves washing over them.
Dark red shadows occasionally darted through the lake, shaped like giant lizards, but their bodies were scarlet, with fin-like structures on their backs. At this moment, one of them suddenly raised its head, spewing dazzling sparks from its mouth and nose, splashing onto the stones on the shore, scorching a hole in them.
"Those are Fire Lizards," the accompanying scholar Halin whispered, "Ancient texts say they feed on subterranean fire and spew extremely hot lava that can melt steel. Some even say that the dragons of Valyria were created from Fire Lizards and Bloodworms, combined with magic. They are volatile and very dangerous."
This "Boiling Oil Lake" was directly in their path. Since they couldn't cross it directly, they had no choice but to go around.
However, the lake's shoreline was winding, so the team advanced cautiously, fearing to provoke the monsters in the lake. But as they passed through a narrow pass, two Fire Lizards suddenly darted out from the rock crevices. They were incredibly fast. One warrior was splashed by sparks, his armor instantly glowing red and melting through, sticking directly to his body, eliciting a violent scream. Another was struck by a lizard's tail and fell into the "Boiling Oil Lake," only managing a brief half-cry before disappearing into the churning lava.
Everyone fought desperately to repel the two Fire Lizards, and after hastily burying the remains of their comrade, they continued their journey. After another half-day, the intense heat of the "Boiling Oil Lake" gradually subsided.
However, the air was soon replaced by a sickly sweet stench of decay.
Continuing on, the land ahead seemed to have festered. An endless swamp stretched out, shimmering with iridescent oily sheen. On some mud surfaces, viscous bubbles constantly rose, releasing a dizzying stench when they burst. In the mire, countless thick, blood-red worms writhed, lacking eyes or noses, only ring-shaped mouthparts at their ends that constantly opened and closed, filled with dense, sharp teeth. Among these worms, many palm-sized, brightly colored toads hopped. With each hop, their skin seeped out glistening mucus.
"These are Bloodworms and Mottled Toads," Scholar Halin's voice trembled slightly. "The worms devour flesh and blood, and the toad venom corrodes bones. Even a drop of their venom is fatal."
And this swamp seemed boundless, making it impossible to go around. However, amidst this swamp, there appeared to be an extremely narrow "path" formed by compacted black sludge. It was like The Neck in Westeros, but the path in The Neck didn't have as many venomous creatures as here. Since there was no other choice, everyone could only use their long spears as tools to probe the way, and cover their exposed body parts with their limited cloth and cloaks.
With every step, they had to first insert their long spear into the mud ahead, testing its solidity. The Bloodworms were startled, rearing up their upper bodies, their mouthparts constantly opening and closing. The Mottled Toads hopped, leaving glistening trails of venom. Only by truly stepping onto this place could one realize the suffocating, viscous heat of the air, as if mixed with the breath of death.
When the "path" reached its narrowest point, barely wide enough for one person to pass sideways, an old veteran from Dragonstone named "Hammer" Jory was carefully inching forward. His long pole suddenly slipped, and the seemingly solid mud beneath his feet abruptly collapsed. Jory only had time for a muffled groan before half his body sank into the mud. A nearby comrade quickly reached out to pull him, only to see several Bloodworms already writhing into this part of the swamp, their ring-shaped mouthparts biting firmly into Jory's legs and waist, then frantically drilling deeper into the swamp. Jory's face instantly contorted in agony, yet he couldn't make a sound. His comrades struggled to pull out only Jory's upper body; his lower body was gone, leaving only a string of murky bubbles.
No one dared to linger, nor did anyone dare to pull out those comrades who had already fallen into the swamp. The remaining people could only grit their teeth and rush out of this death swamp with greater speed and lighter steps.
When they finally stepped onto solid ground again, the team had lost ten more names.
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