"Drogon, what's wrong?"
The next instant, Daenerys let out a muffled groan. Her nose, eyes, and mouth felt as though pierced by blades, blood streaming from all three.
A crushing pressure seized her spirit, grinding down her pride and sense of self.
It was not her own feeling.
It was Drogon's.
"I am the Dragonbinder! Submit, submit, submit, submit, submit—"
The ancient Valyrian spell seemed to become tangible, like a mythical mountain-sealing seal radiating countless golden rays. Carrying the weight and authority of the heavens themselves, it smashed again and again into the bones of the black dragon's soul.
Perhaps this was how the White Snake had felt when suppressed beneath Fahai's golden bowl.
The humiliation and oppression filled Daenerys as though she herself were suffering it.
She wanted to roar.
And she did.
"I am the Mother of Dragons! I am the one true dragonlord of this world! I command the black dragon, and my black dragon will command the world itself—"
Half a minute earlier, atop the bridge of the Silence, the giant black-skinned man clutching the enormous black horn had blown it the moment Euron snapped his fingers.
The smooth obsidian horn was inlaid with crimson-gold runes. At first the runes glowed red, then erupted into scorching white brilliance, like a miniature sun descending upon the Silence.
As Daenerys merged spiritually with Drogon and cried out with the combined will of dragon and rider, the hornblower's massive bear-like body suddenly shuddered.
Then, just like Daenerys moments before, blood streamed from his eyes, nose, and mouth.
But he had it worse.
His lips looked scorched by blazing fire, swollen with dense bean-sized blisters.
The blisters gleamed wetly, and the slightest pressure caused them to burst into bloody fluid.
"Hahaha! Do you see now?" Euron noticed Daenerys's condition but paid it little mind. He assumed she was simply too delicate to endure the pressure of the dragon horn.
"Mother of Dragons?" He laughed arrogantly. "Even the Mother of Dragons must submit before the Dragonbinder! In ancient Valyria there were countless dragonlords, yet not one ever rebelled. Do you know why, my little queen?
"Because the Valyrians forged dragon horns capable of controlling dragons! So long as the Dragonbinder holds the horn, every dragon within sight must obey his command.
"And now, your three dragons belong to me!"
As he laughed triumphantly, the white dragon and green dragon appeared to receive an order. They stopped rampaging and flapped toward Euron.
At the same time, Daenerys heard a voice through Drogon:
Come here. Eat this woman.
The moment Drogon heard the command to devour Daenerys, his fury multiplied tenfold. He nearly unleashed dragonfire immediately.
"Calm down," Daenerys soothed him at once. "There's still a sword at my throat. Go along for now. Wait for an opening, then hit that bastard hard."
"Hahaha! To encounter you—it's as though even the gods favor me!" Euron roared. "I complete the first successful expedition into Valyria in four hundred years, then immediately use the dragon horn I found there to claim three dragons!
"Even heroes from legend could not compare to me! Heaven itself has destined me to be king!"
Watching the three dragons obediently crawl toward him, Euron laughed wildly.
"Forgive me, but only once the mother is gone will they devote themselves fully to the father of dragons."
He withdrew his sword and shoved Daenerys to the deck.
"Tear her apart. Prove your loyalty to me!"
"SKREEEE—"
The green and white dragons suddenly writhed madly across the deck, rolling and twitching while tiny flames burst from their mouths and nostrils.
Drogon crouched low, snarling, unmoved.
"Tear her apart! I am the Dragonbinder! All dragons must obey me!"
A crimson glow spread through Euron's blue eyes.
Not an illusion.
Actual, tangible light.
Materialized psychic power?
Seeing the white and green dragons growing more anguished, Daenerys could no longer endure it.
"Drogon—kill him!"
BOOM!
Without warning, Drogon's head shot forward like lightning. Thick dragonfire erupted from his jaws and engulfed Euron's face and chest.
"AAAAAAARGH—!"
Euron released a howl barely human in sound. Clutching his face, he staggered toward the railing and toppled headfirst into the sea with a splash.
Daenerys turned toward the boarding plank.
Dozens of bald pirates were wrestling weapons away from Dothraki and sailors, slaughtering them wildly.
Yet her side had not completely collapsed.
Most of the Dothraki and all the sailors had become helpless victims, but Jhogo and nine mounted warriors still swung their arakhs desperately, barely keeping the situation from total ruin.
Mostly because even though the bald pirates had blocked their ears, the horn still affected them.
The battle resembled cripples fighting cripples.
Daenerys finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"Drogon, go—"
She had been about to order him to kill the hornblower when the horn abruptly stopped.
Looking up, she saw the giant black man on the Silence swaying miserably, black smoke pouring from his mouth like a chimney.
After several unsteady steps, the horn slipped from his grasp, and he collapsed stiffly onto the deck.
Though everything had seemed drawn out, from the horn's first blast to Euron's fall into the sea and the horn's silence, less than two minutes had passed.
"Ugh…"
Jorah and Whitebeard shakily climbed to their feet, already beginning to recover.
But then Daenerys saw, in horror, a bald white pirate with a bird tattoo on his chest picking up the massive horn as though preparing to blow it again.
Without thinking, she bent down and snatched up a loaded crossbow from the deck.
She raised it, aligned the tiny cross-shaped sight on the man's chest, and pulled the trigger.
The entire motion took less than two blinks.
THWIP!
Perhaps her months of archery practice had helped.
The man screamed as the horn slipped from his grasp.
She had aimed for the chest, but struck near the thigh instead.
Even so, the heavy crossbow bolt tore clean through his leg from thirty or forty meters away, knocking him sideways onto the deck.
"Drogon! Destroy the boarding plank!"
Buoyed by the success of her "divine marksmanship," Daenerys grabbed a shortbow and began firing at the pirates while commanding Drogon to burn the bridge between the ships.
"Ow!"
One Dothraki warrior clutched his backside and turned toward his khaleesi with an accusing glare.
"Aha… sorry. Fall back a little. I'll aim better next time."
She had fired eight arrows total.
Five hit pirates.
Two missed completely.
The last one hit an ally.
Not bad, she thought proudly.
Mostly because her strength was limited. Using a bow instead of a crossbow meant she could wound but not kill.
Friendly fire wasn't a major issue anyway.
Her side still had superior numbers. If they could eliminate the pirates quickly enough, everyone else would soon recover from the horn's effects.
Once her people regained themselves, the Silence—leaderless and trapped between three ships—would have nowhere to flee.
BOOM!
The boarding plank split apart in flames as Drogon screeched and flew toward the Silence.
Then a rain of arrows flew from the enemy ship.
Drogon rolled midair and plunged into the sea.
He was unharmed, merely frightened off by Daenerys's panicked command.
The black dragon swam beneath the ship toward the rudder.
RUMBLE—
The sea boiled like a cauldron. White steam and black smoke billowed from both sides of the hull.
"Princess! Be careful! Your dragons—Rhaegal and Viserion!" Jorah suddenly shouted.
Daenerys spun around.
The two foolish creatures had stopped writhing, but they clearly had not fully recovered from the horn's influence.
Their eyes glowed blood-red as they stared at her back.
Their mouths opened and closed. Their expressions twisted with struggle.
They looked as though they wanted to kill their own mother.
Drogon's eyes were molten red by nature. Viserion's were golden, and Rhaegal's emerald green.
But now both smaller dragons' eyes burned crimson.
It was deeply unsettling.
"You little beasts!"
Daenerys snatched up a silver whip and lashed them furiously.
"I'll beat sense into you two ungrateful monsters! Have you forgotten your mother already?!"
The dragons shrieked in pain, tucking their heads beneath their wings while hissing angrily.
"Wake up already!"
Daenerys ignored everything else and continued whipping them harder when their vicious expressions refused to fade.
Finally, her philosophy of "strict discipline makes obedient children" backfired spectacularly.
The two young dragons reached the limit of their patience.
They suddenly snapped their heads up.
WHOOSH!
Dragonfire blasted directly into her face.
"AAAH!"
Daenerys threw away the whip and fell backward hard onto the deck, clutching her face and crying out.
Jorah hurriedly grabbed a bucket of seawater from beside the railing.
As he filled it, he happened to glimpse someone floating in the sea.
He dumped the bucket over Daenerys's head while shouting to Whitebeard:
"It's Euron! Euron's still alive! He's trying to control the dragons again!"
Whitebeard rushed to the railing and peered down.
Sure enough, Euron floated half-conscious beside the ship, face charred black and covered in blood, yet somehow still alive.
His lips moved as though chanting a spell.
The old man reacted instantly.
Using his cane like a spear, he hurled it downward.
THUNK!
The cane struck Euron squarely atop the head.
His eyes rolled back and he sank unconscious into the sea.
"Princess, are you alright—"
After dealing with Euron, Whitebeard hurried back toward Daenerys, only to discover in annoyance that after dumping water on her, Jorah had abandoned her completely and gone off to kill pirates instead.
Daenerys sat on the deck.
Her leather vest and shirt were burned nearly to shreds.
Above the neck she was blackened and soaked, with glistening red blisters across one cheek.
Whitebeard crouched beside her and examined the injuries carefully.
The more he looked, the more shocked he became.
Not because he feared for her burns—
—but because after being hit directly in the face by dragonfire, she had suffered only superficial injuries.
"Are you truly the Unburnt?" he asked at last. "Even dragonfire cannot kill you?"
During her stay in Qarth, Daenerys had not tested her fire resistance again, so Whitebeard had only heard rumors of her title.
He had assumed them exaggerated.
Now he wasn't so sure.
"Euron really didn't die?" Daenerys asked instead.
Perhaps because dragonfire contained magic, its temperature far exceeded ordinary flames.
Normal fire could barely hurt her.
Dragonfire, however, still burned her skin.
If exposed long enough, it could probably kill her.
Even the Unburnt had limits.
Once the dragons matured and their flames grew hotter, she would likely be incinerated instantly.
"I knocked him unconscious," Whitebeard said while helping her stand and draping his cloak around her shoulders. "Maybe he'll drown."
Daenerys glanced at the still-red-eyed dragons, both hissing restlessly.
"Deal with the pirates first."
The Silence carried over two hundred pirates, all of them tongueless.
But only forty had sealed their ears with molten gold.
The remaining hundred-plus were still dazed and spiritually shattered by the horn's power.
-----------------------
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