134: Chapter 134 Midnight at the Flea Nest

King's Landing. Flea Bottom.

Half an hour before midnight.

The sea breeze swept in from the direction of the Blackwater River, carrying a salty tang and the faint smell of smoke from the distant sea—the scent of charred wood drifting over from the Battle of Dragonstone.

King's Landing was abnormally quiet tonight; the bells of the Sept inside the Red Keep did not toll, but the density of the Gold Cloaks patrols was twice that of usual.

On the city walls, a scorpion was wheeled into firing position every fifty paces.

The scorpion crews huddled near the carriages to warm themselves by the fire, muttering, "Who would come to besiege the city in such freezing weather?"

An old veteran was sharpening an arrowhead with a whetstone. The wildfire residue on the tip emitted a faint green glow under the stone—each flash reflecting in his cloudy pupils.

They did not know what they were waiting for. They only knew that Queen Cersei had ordered all scorpions in the city to be loaded this afternoon, on pain of decapitation.

Drogon crouched on the roof of the Copper and Bed Brothel, wearing a tattered craftsman's cloak borrowed from Tyrion—the cloak was too short to cover his ankles.

On his left wrist, he wore the obsidian bubble bracelet woven by Sansa, every bubble shimmering with a faint iridescence under the moonlight. In the leather pouch at his waist was the last small bag of dragonglass shards.

His deep brown, round pupils stared through the layered, dilapidated roofs of Flea Bottom toward the sky over the Red Keep.

The clouds were parting.

Not blown apart by the wind—but torn open from higher up by something.

The wisps of cloud at the edge of the rift were folded into irregular vortexes, and from the center of the vortex shone a cold, silvery-white light that did not belong to this world—that cold light was not moonlight, but the unique halo of the Ancient Valyrian Dragon Magic · Void Rift emitted when space itself was torn apart.

System pop-up. White text.

"High-concentration Dragon Clan Bloodline signals detected—five of them.

Approaching King's Landing at high speed from the northwest.

Leader's Bloodline signal strength: estimated 2,600 to 3,000 points. Space-time attribute.

Ancient Valyrian Dragon Magic · Void Rift detected—this is the Chronos Dragon's exclusive space-leap Spell, capable of tearing open temporary passages between planes.

Deputy team's three Dragon signals: estimated 1,200 to 1,500 points.

Fifth signal: human form, Bloodline estimated at 800 to 1,000 points, but carrying high-intensity Dragon Clan magic equipment reactions. The Enforcement Squad has entered within thirty miles of the skies above King's Landing."

"Target bait location—the Red Keep's back gate. The same gate Sansa climbed out of the window to escape from last time. It is closest to the Red Keep's scorpion positions. Once the signal is released, the Gold Cloaks will fire a volley in that direction.

The Enforcement Squad will lock onto that position at the exact same instant. The time window—from releasing the signal to the Enforcement Squad diving over the Red Keep, roughly how many seconds?"

"The Space-Time Dragon Captain's dive speed far exceeds that of ordinary Dragon Clans. If he is flying at cruising speed above the clouds—from locking onto the signal to arriving over the Red Keep will take about twenty seconds.

The Gold Cloaks' scorpion reaction time is about ten to fifteen seconds. It is recommended that the host immediately relocate to the Tyrell Mansion's underground wine cellar after releasing the signal—it is the closest of the five hiding spots to the Red Keep's back gate."

"Ten seconds is enough. Let's go."

Outside the Red Keep's back gate. Midnight.

The iron grate gate was covered in dead ivy, and the moonlight cast an extremely long shadow from the eastern tower.

The broken wall of the abandoned stable in the back alley was still in the same spot where he had met Sansa last time, with dead leaves blown in by the night wind still wedged in the cracks between the bricks.

Drogon leaped down from the roofs of Flea Bottom, darting through the abandoned alley at the limit speed of his complete human form.

Dead rose bushes brushed against his cloak, their stems still hanging with a few winter-resistant withered flowers—the edges of the petals frozen into a deep purple.

He leaned his back against the stone wall of the back gate and closed his eyes.

The suppression of his complete human form was actively deactivated. The transition to his dragon-man form took less than a second. His tail popped out from his tailbone, every vertebra stretching out—scales stood up in sequence along the tailbone, like a row of dark-golden wheat stalks blown by the wind.

Scales spread downward from his neck, covering his entire body, the dark-golden scales gleaming with a metallic cold light under the moon.

Slit pupils snapped open in the darkness—a dark-golden light burst within them, and the silver-gray rim bordering the slit pupils was exceptionally striking in the midnight, like a ring of lightning frozen in his eyes.

In his dragon-man form, he released his dragon aura upward without reservation.

It was not an offensive Dragon Might, but the most basic Dragon Clan Bloodline signal broadcast—Ancient Valyrian Dragon Magic · Bloodline Pulse Signal, a fundamental Spell used by the Dragon Clan to locate one another across planes.

The Dragon Might penetrated the roofs of Flea Bottom, pierced the towers of the Red Keep, and shot through the clouds, spreading in all directions.

The unique oppressive feeling of the Dragon Clan filled the air—the air itself grew thick. Even the dead rose bushes in the abandoned alley trembled slightly under the Dragon Might, their petals rustling down.

System pop-up.

"Transition to dragon-man form complete. Bloodline signal broadcasted. Enforcement Squad has locked on. Space-Time Dragon Captain is turning—extremely fast. The Gold Cloaks' lookouts have detected abnormal Dragon Clan energy above the Red Keep's back gate. Estimated scorpion volley countdown—eight seconds."

At the third second after releasing the signal, he immediately switched back to his complete human form. His tail retracted, his scales hid, and his slit pupils compressed back into deep brown, round pupils. Darting backward, he slipped into the shadows of the abandoned alley, moving silently toward the Tyrell Mansion's underground wine cellar.

He ran fast, but the sound of his footsteps was perfectly masked by the sudden thrum of scorpions firing from the city walls.

Above King's Landing. Midnight.

The clouds were torn open from the middle.

Not blown apart by the wind—but torn open from the inside by the Ancient Valyrian Dragon Magic · Void Rift.

The wisps of cloud at the edge of the rift were folded into irregular vortexes, and from the center of the vortex shone a cold, silvery-white light that did not belong to this world. The moment the rift expanded, all the stars above King's Landing shifted in the spatial distortion—not a real shift, but a gravitational lensing effect that bent the starlight at the edges of the rift.

Five dragon silhouettes descended from the rift.

Leading them was that Chronos Dragon with a wingspan of about forty meters.

His scales were not metallic, but a space-warping, translucent silvery-white—staring at them for too long made one's vision feel as if it were slipping off the scales' surface.

Every flap of his dragon wings carried the Ancient Valyrian Dragon Magic · Space-Time Fold, causing the surrounding space to tremble slightly, like a heatwave distorting a distant view.

As starlight passed through his wing membranes, it refracted into curved filaments of light, trailing fine tails of light behind him like a comet stretched into threads.

Behind him followed three Dragonborn Knights.

Dark red, deep blue, and bronze—with wingspans between twenty to twenty-five meters, each dragon was straddled by a knight clad in Ancient Valyrian Dragonborn armor.

The dark red Dragonborn held a valyrian steel lance, its tip imbued with the Ancient Valyrian Dragon Magic · Heart-Burning Flame, glowing with a ghostly red halo under the moonlight.

The deep blue Dragonborn had a dragonglass javelin hanging at his waist, its tip coated with the Ancient Valyrian Dragon Magic · Frost Mark, ghostly blue energy condensing into extremely fine ice crystals at the tip.

Embedded in the bronze Dragonborn's armguards was the core chip of a Dragon Clan tracking array, the chip flashing with a dark green positioning signal—the operational light of the Ancient Valyrian Dragon Magic · Bloodline Tracking Array.

At the very back, a figure in complete human form hovered in the air on wings made of starlight. The Dragon-born Apostle.

She wore a robe woven from dragon scales and starlight threads, with every scale on the garment embedded with extremely fine starlight threads—the threads fluttering slightly in the night wind like the tentacles of a living creature.

In her hand, she held a staff, its head set with a dragonglass emitting a ghostly blue cold light, and the ancient Valyrian runes on the staff glowed with a dim silver light under the moonlight.

The Space-Time Dragon Captain looked down upon King's Landing. His slit pupils were pure silvery-white, without pupils—his entire eyeballs were like silvery-white mirrors.

His voice did not come from his throat, but was transmitted directly into the consciousness of everyone below through the Ancient Valyrian Dragon Magic · Consciousness Resonance.

"Designation DK-0001. Bloodline signal confirmed. Location: the back gate area of the castle below. Prepare to descend. Apostle—evaluate target's Bloodline."

The Dragon-born Apostle pointed the tip of her staff toward the Red Keep's back gate, and ghostly blue light flickered a few times on the tip.

"The signal has vanished. The target re-suppressed his Dragon Clan traits after releasing the signal. Currently unable to lock on precisely. Speculated target intent—luring us to lower our altitude into the range of the city's defense weapons. Captain—there are numerous anti-air weapons deployed on the city walls below."

The Space-Time Dragon Captain's silvery-white slit pupils slowly swept over the dense array of scorpions on the walls of King's Landing, showing neither anger nor worry.

"Human weapons. Ineffective against dragon scales. Descend. The target must be found."