"Mm," Aegon replied softly.
He began checking over his gear: the wrist-mounted dart launcher on his left arm, the forearm crossbow on his right. He turned to glance at the Rhoynar longbow and iron-plated shield on his back, the blowgun hanging from his neck, the pouch of ultra-spicy pepper powder in his pocket, fourteen throwing knives tucked into his belt, a quiver and javelins strapped to his waist, a spade hanging from his lower back, and several dozen steel throwing needles fixed along his thighs.
He hadn't forgotten even the smallest items—like flint.
"Perfect," Aegon muttered, satisfied.
Gaemon looked at him, speechless, then couldn't help but comment, "You really brought every sneaky weapon there is."
Daenys walked over, reached out to lift the bag carrying Aegon's quiver and javelins, and urged, "Let's go already, stop dragging your feet."
Aegon grinned. "Just being prepared."
The three of them followed the other dragon tamers through the gates of the Shield of Freedom.
Along the way, Aegon noticed that many Targaryen family members had formed small teams like theirs—solo travelers were rare.
Nearly everyone carried a map and occasionally paused to discuss, clearly planning the journey ahead.
The dragon tamers heading toward the Fourteen Flames weren't climbing upward—they were descending into the valley.
After about half a kilometer, the group left the stone-paved Valyrian road and followed a narrow trail beside a slope, descending into a vast gorge.
Aegon turned to look back at the seemingly endless line of dragon tamers. Over two hundred Dragonblood tamers had arrived for this tournament.
As they made their way along the rugged mountain path, Aegon couldn't hold back his curiosity.
"How many of these dragon tamers will be eliminated during the competition for dragons?" he asked Daenys.
"About nine out of ten," she replied offhandedly, eyes fixed on the uneven path.
"That many?" Aegon's face showed his surprise. "There should be plenty of dragons in the Freehold. No way only twenty-something new tamers emerge every ten years."
Gaemon turned, caught Daenys by the hand, helping her down a steep drop, and answered, "It's not that dragons are rare. The Dragonlord Council deliberately limits the number of successful tamers. They need to keep the balance of power between themselves and the other true dragon families."
"I don't really get it," Aegon said with a frown.
Daenys turned, took the pack from Aegon's hand, and he used the opportunity to jump down after them.
Gaemon's expression turned serious. "If the Dragonlord Council wants full control over the Freehold, the dragons under the fourteen council houses must outmatch the ones controlled by the other true dragon families. It's the only way to maintain dominance."
Aegon's eyes lit up in realization. "So that's the reason. But how do they control the success rate?"
"We've entered the canyon of the Fourteen Flames with no supplies, no servants—that's the key," Gaemon explained with a sigh. "The dragon lairs are at least ten days' journey from here. There are a few supply points along the way, but they only have enough food for a small portion of the tamers to barely get by."
He paused, voice dropping slightly.
"If we want to reach the dragon lairs and tame one, we'll have to kill others for their supplies. That's how the Dragonlord Council limits the number of tamers."
Aegon clicked his tongue. "Those fourteen houses are really something else."
Daenys smiled faintly.
Gaemon shook his head and pointed to the sky. "See those three dragons flying above us? If tamers cheat or exceed the quota, they'll descend and 'correct' the numbers. The dragons under the council's fourteen houses have always outnumbered those of the other true dragon families. Even if we wanted to resist this kind of power, we couldn't.
The House Aurélion, the one that killed your father, is actually just one ridge of the Firebreath Mountains—the Redflame Ridge, a mere branch of House Aurélion. And even that branch alone controls as many dragons as our entire Targaryen line."
Aegon let out a long breath. "If we get the chance in the canyon, let's deal with House Aurélion."
"Maybe others are thinking the same. They planted a vicious dragon on the Dragonpit map they traded to us—maybe hoping you'd walk straight to your death," Gaemon said.
"So House Aurélion's betting on me failing to tame a dragon?" Aegon asked.
"Very likely. If that mature red dragon behaves strangely, don't push it," Gaemon warned seriously.
Aegon gave a small nod. "I'm not an idiot."
After some brief conversation, the three followed the rest of the group to the bottom of the canyon.
A small stream flowed through the area, and towering trees grew thick and lush. It was here that the large group of tamers began to split up, each heading into the forest.
Daenys took out their map, studied it carefully, then scanned the surroundings. After a short search, she gave the command.
"Let's head left. There's a banyan tree that bears a mark from our ancestors."
Aegon and Gaemon followed her toward the left side of the gorge.
They passed by many others—some alone, some in small groups. Most were silent, quietly pressing forward. Perhaps they, too, understood that in the coming half-month, a brutal contest would unfold between them all.
They moved through the dense woods.
Gaemon took the lead, swinging his steel sword to cut away vines and clear the path, while Daenys navigated with the map.
The canyon of the Fourteen Flames was a place of extreme diversity—humid rainforest zones like the one they were in now, scorching desert-like stretches, and barren stony plains. Different dragons made their homes in different environments, each adapted to its unique terrain.
Their destination was a dragon lair maintained by House Targaryen. To reach it, they would have to cross two large valleys—a seven-day journey with three supply points along the way.
But the king-class dragon Aegon intended to tame lived even farther out—nearly ten days away. According to the map, the red dragon resided atop an active volcano, a location notoriously difficult to approach.
"We'll head to Rock Valley first. Once I've tamed the dragon, I'll be able to fly to the next two Dragonpits," Gaemon repeated the plan, then reminded them again, emphasizing, "If we run into other dragon tamers at the supply points, don't hesitate. Food is limited—either they die, or we do.
And the first two supply points are the most dangerous. That's where the most people die!"
"Brother, I'm a little scared," Daenys whispered.
Though the true dragon families had been trained from childhood using slaves to gain combat experience, Daenys had never truly faced a life-or-death fight before.
"Don't worry. With Gaemon and me here, you won't get hurt," Aegon said, reassuring her.
Gaemon smiled at Aegon. They arrived at a spring and stopped to rest and recover their strength. After all, they had to reach the first supply point by nightfall and fight for that crucial first batch of food and supplies. Staying in peak condition was essential.
After drinking some spring water, the team set out again.
Along the way, Aegon didn't spot any wild game. It was likely that the Dragonlord Council had cleared the valley of animals ahead of time, to prevent tamers from finding extra food.
They traveled through the rainforest for several more hours before being forced to stop again.
The journey through the jungle was grueling—hot, humid, and swarming with insects. By now, Aegon's underclothes were soaked through with sweat, clinging uncomfortably to his skin.
After a short break, they pressed on.
As they pushed forward through the exhausting terrain, evening fell—meaning they were nearing the first supply point.
...
In the depths of the dense forest, the thick, interwoven branches of banyan trees formed massive green canopies, blocking out the sunlight completely. Mist hung in the air, giving the place the feel of a secluded, otherworldly realm.
The three of them were already on high alert, standing back to back.
Gaemon took the lead, wielding twin steel swords.
Daenys stayed on the right with a shield in hand.
Aegon held position on the left, a blowgun between his lips, shield in his right hand, and a throwing knife gripped in his left.
"Shh~" Aegon whispered.
The group halted, lowering themselves to the ground.
Gaemon and Daenys looked over at Aegon, who flashed them a peace sign—two targets.
They understood instantly.
In a setting like this, where visibility was limited, Aegon had a clear advantage thanks to the chip implanted in him. With its enhanced infrared thermal vision, no living creature could hide.
Aegon pointed in the direction of the enemy tamers, then dropped flat and began crawling forward slowly.
Reaching the back of a banyan tree, he extended his blowpipe around the trunk.
Whoosh—
"Ah!" someone yelped. The tamer who had been hit swatted at the spot. "Damn mosquitoes again."
Whoosh—
Another grunt came from a second tamer. "What the hell? A steel needle?!"
Two heavy thuds followed as the bodies hit the ground.
Aegon flashed an "OK" sign to the others. Gaemon and Daenys dashed over and quickly finished off the incapacitated tamers.
This was a strategy they had drilled back at the Targaryen stronghold: Aegon used his superior scouting abilities to strike first with hidden weapons. If that didn't work, the rest of the team would engage head-on. The darts were coated with a potent paralytic poison—anyone hit would collapse within minutes.
With that threat dealt with, they pushed on a few dozen meters until a hunter's cabin came into view.
The siblings looked to Aegon again.
Aegon scanned the area, slowly shook his head, then traced words in the dirt with his finger: "Nine people in ambush."
They retreated and hid beneath a hollow tree.
Daenys whispered her assessment, "There's no cover within twenty meters of the hunter's hut. Anyone trying to get to it for food will walk right into the ambushers' range.
It's nearly sundown. They're waiting for the light to fade and vision to drop—then they'll all make a move for the supplies."
Gaemon turned to Aegon for a decision. "Aegon, should we wait until it's dark and join the chaos?"
"Of course not. We strike first."
Aegon had Gaemon and Daenys cut small holes in his clothing and stuff them with weeds, wildflowers, and leaves—crafting a natural camouflage suit.
Then he dropped to the ground again, blowgun clenched between his teeth, and began crawling toward the nearest tamer like some forest creature, perfectly disguised.
Tonight, we hunt properly, Aegon thought.