13: Chapter 13 Exposing

"Playing god."

Drogon's voice echoed through the vast hall.

"Your so-called immortality—is nothing more than parasitizing your souls into these rotting husks. You survive by leeching the life force of every poor wretch who enters this hall."

The Undying opened their eyes simultaneously.

There were no eyeballs in their sockets. Only two points of ghostly blue fire.

A dozen pairs of ghostly flames fixed their gaze on Drogon.

Drogon did not move.

"Am I right?"

No one answered. The Undying closest to Daenerys Targaryen twitched a finger.

Drogon saw it.

The moment The Undying lunged, Drogon was already moving.

He wasn't faster than it. He had moved in anticipation.

The Undying's withered, skeletal claws glowed with ghostly blue magic, thrusting straight toward Daenerys Targaryen's heart. It was fast. Mortals would not have been able to react in time.

Drogon was no mortal.

His right claw moved after, but arrived first, gripping the withered hand just three inches from Daenerys Targaryen's heart.

Black flames covered his dragon claw. It was not Dragon Breath. It was primal fire, concentrated to the extreme. A thin layer, clinging tightly.

Drogon tilted his head, looking at the restrained Undying.

His tone was very innocent.

"Immortality?"

His dragon claw tightened.

"In my eyes, you are nothing more than a string of experience points waiting to be claimed."

The moment the black flames exploded, The Undying let out a sound.

It was not a scream of agony.

It was a soul-piercing shriek beyond the range of human hearing. Like a high-frequency screech of metal scraping, it stabbed directly into the brain. Daenerys Targaryen covered her ears.

Drogon did not loosen his grip.

The flames spread along The Undying's arm, consuming the shoulder, the chest, and the eyeless gray face. The spirit residing within the husk struggled frantically, trying to squeeze out through the cracks. The moment the black flames touched the soul, it was like pouring boiling oil onto snow.

"Ding! Killed 'Undying Spirit' * 1! Gained Attribute Points + 200!"

The dragon claw released.

The remains of The Undying turned into a pile of ash, falling to the ground. A dim gemstone core rolled out from the ash. Drogon scooped it up and tucked it away.

He turned toward the hall entrance.

Xaro and the Qarth guards were rushing in. Swords were drawn, bows fully drawn.

They saw the ash on the ground. They saw the black flames still dissipating from Drogon's claws.

Everyone stopped.

Drogon flicked the ash on the ground with his claw tip.

"Is this the god you worship in Qarth?"

He tilted his head, fixing his gaze on Xaro.

"Who's next? You, Mr. Xaro?"

Xaro fell to his knees.

Not on one knee. His legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the ground.

Swords dropped to one side. Bows dropped to the other. The guards behind him also knelt. No one had ordered it. Their knees just went weak on their own.

Inside the House of The Undying, having lost the magical support of The Undying, the illusions maintained for a thousand years began to collapse. The gold and jewels piled on the stone tables turned into ash. Into cobwebs. Into shriveled insect husks.

The magnificent, resplendent hall revealed its true face within seconds. Dilapidated. Dusty. Cobwebs everywhere.

Xaro watched it all. His mouth hung open. No sound came out.

"Ding! Achieved iconic moment [The End of The Undying]! Shock Value + 15000! Reward: Attribute Points + 300! Title Gained: Scammer Terminator!"

Drogon folded his wings and landed back on Daenerys Targaryen's shoulder.

Daenerys Targaryen looked down, watching Xaro.

"Is this all your 'immortality' amounts to?"

Her voice was very soft.

Xaro trembled even more violently.

While everyone else dared not approach the temple, Drogon led Daenerys Targaryen to the deepest part.

There was no gold. No jewels.

There was only a small obsidian altar. It was covered in dust. In the dust lay a crystal. It was the size of a fist. Nebula-like light flowed within it.

Drogon picked up the crystal and gave it to Daenerys Targaryen.

"This—is their true trump card. A treasure that can make your enemies far away in Westeros have nightmares."

Daenerys Targaryen took the crystal. The light reflected on her face, making her silvery-gold hair look as if it were on fire.

She stared at the crystal for a long time.

Then she looked at Drogon.

"Drogon. Who… are you, really?"

Drogon was silent for a second.

He rubbed his head against her hand. For once, he didn't joke.

"I am your dragon. Always."

He paused.

"As for any other identity—we'll talk about that after we take the iron throne."

Daenerys Targaryen crouched down. She pulled him into her arms, resting her chin on his head.

Neither of them spoke.