Hoffa looked up at the increasingly large Vermithor. He swung his lance and said to the last remaining contender, "Stop looking. I hope you can hold out until His Grace arrives, Revil Haydon."
Revil Haydon, wielding a two-handed greatsword, reluctantly looked away from the dragon. He focused his gaze firmly on Hoffa. These sworn brothers and competitors had trained countless times before, their targets being Hoffa and Aslan, two truly top-tier experts. In fact, back during the tourney at Summerfield, when these two young men made their names, bards spread tales of their valor throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Especially Hoffa Lawkeeper, the Stormlander who won the jousting crown after unhorsing Lord Boros Baratheon, earning him the moniker Stagslayer. Of course, bards also knew him as The Lance for his mastery of the weapon, Blade of Valyria, and many other epithets. However, those who knew him better preferred the nickname his younger brother, Adams Lawkeeper, had given him: Rusty Iron, for Hoffa's stubbornly unyielding personality. While everyone knew Hoffa was actually a very easygoing person, no one could tolerate being around someone who constantly wore a stern face and rigidly adhered to every rule.
Aslan Rondell also proved his martial prowess to the world after defeating Criston Cole, earning the epithet Silver Lion. However, aside from training sessions, he rarely sparred directly with the young men he tutored, leaving Hoffa to play the role of the villain.
"Haydon, watch out for Hoffa's footwork!" Juchi shouted, arms crossed. He had focused solely on Hoffa's lance, never anticipating the feints and distractions that were part of his technique. Juchi had fallen victim to this, having his scimitar sent flying by Hoffa. Otherwise, he could have held out for a while longer.
The dark-haired youth cautiously raised his greatsword, constantly swinging it around himself, blocking the thrusts Hoffa casually sent his way, one after another. He dared not attack, knowing from watching all the previous matches how ferocious Hoffa's lance was, especially since it was forged from Valyrian steel. If their weapons weren't made of bloodsteel, they would likely shatter upon contact with that lance. Even so, after the matches, Juchi's scimitar was nearly broken, Joffrey Cafferen's mace had a hole pierced through it and was almost completely destroyed, and York Waters' beloved longsword was snapped in two. Only Arthor's Crabtide survived unscathed, being a Valyrian steel weapon itself.
Revil knew he couldn't keep dodging. If he continued to defend, his greatsword would be the first to give. Though young, he was immensely strong; otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to wield the greatsword for so long.
"Revil, careful! Quick, horizontal block!" Joffrey Cafferen shouted anxiously. Revil reflexively swung his greatsword horizontally. Sure enough, Hoffa changed his move, switching from a thrust to a sweep, nearly hitting Revil directly.
"Haydon, now's your chance, close-quarters attack!" York Waters' hoarse voice sounded. Taking advantage of the fact that Hoffa's lance hadn't been fully retracted, Revil ducked his head, bent at the waist, and took a step forward, using all his strength to swing his greatsword upwards in a decisive strike.
"Revil, pull back! Hoffa is retracting his lance!" This time it was Arthor who warned him. Revil hurriedly pulled back, pressing his greatsword down. He successfully blocked Hoffa's unpredictable lance. However, Revil wasn't so lucky this time. With a flick of the lance, the greatsword, which had already endured numerous strikes, finally gave way, snapping in two at the middle. Revil quickly threw aside the broken sword, preparing to grapple.
"Alright, Hoffa, he's held out long enough, don't you think?" Aslan said with a smile. He hadn't stopped the other four from helping Revil, because they used to help and support each other when they sparred with Draezell, Valar, and Lynn Valtaken, who hadn't returned to Dragon's Nest for a long time.
Hoffa turned his lance around and tapped Revil with the shaft. He glanced at the grimacing black-haired youth and nodded. "You passed, Revil. Congratulations."
Revil Haydon, lying on the ground, finally breathed a sigh of relief. He and Quentyn Manwoody had served as Draezell's squires after Jacaerys's death. Unlike Quentyn, who was bookish, gentle, and thin, Revil, from the day he was sent to Dragon's Nest to be fostered, had vowed to become the sharpest sword in Draezell's hand, to repay Draezell for helping his widowed mother and him keep their family's land. Now, his wish had finally come true.
"Not bad, they've been chosen so quickly," said Valar, who had come to watch the excitement. He had just made his daughter Daenyra cry loudly, and was now being chased out of the room by his furious wife, Leyla, wandering around aimlessly. He wanted to find Rey, but found that his cunning younger brother had locked himself in the library of the Laurel Tower again. Valar was too lazy to search for Rey book by book, so he decided to first check on Silverwing and then come back to take a look at his brother's sworn brother selection.
"Come on, let's spar," Valar said enthusiastically, preparing to enter the arena, but Draezell, with a smile in his eyes, grabbed him.
Draezell, who had just come out of the Dragonpit, looked at his brother with a smile. "I heard you made Daenyra cry?"
"No, no, brother, I just... I just..." Valar explained cautiously, "It was an accident. I didn't expect the little one to be so attached to her toys."
"You, you know very well that Leyla values this daughter more than her own life," Draezell said helplessly, releasing Valar. "You still made Daenyra cry in front of her. Who else would she go after if not you?"
Valar lost his interest in sparring. He could only follow his brother, watching him walk with a happy face to the young men beside Aslan. Revil secretly breathed a sigh of relief. He had been by Draezell's side for so long that he knew how powerful Valar was. It could be said that only Aslan and Hoffa together could defeat Valar. As for the five of them, even if Valar didn't use the Heartcrusher, they would probably have to pay a huge price to defeat him. Not having to fight him was a good thing, but Draezell's next words instantly chilled little Revil's heart.
"Come on, you five," Draezell said with a smile, looking at the five of them. "Let's test your skills with me."
Draezell slowly drew Silverwing.
Meanwhile, on the other side, in King's Landing, at the Dragonpit:
Daemon jumped down from Caraxes's saddle, signaling the dragon keepers and dragonpit attendants to step back. He walked to the dragon's head and pressed his forehead against the dragon's crimson scales.
"Caraxes, do you remember what I told you?"
Caraxes raised his long neck and roared towards the sky, indicating that he remembered.
Only then did Daemon step back a few paces, signaling Caraxes that he could enter the Dragonpit.
"Have all the chains been unlocked?" Daemon asked a dragon keeper. The heavily armored keeper was somewhat puzzled, but still replied, "They have all been unlocked."
"The back gate of the Dragonpit is open, correct?"
"Your Grace, if the Dragonpit's main gates are opened and the dragons are allowed to fly out, we cannot bear the consequences," a dragon keeper stationed inside the Dragonpit, responsible for feeding the dragons, said anxiously.
"It's alright. Caraxes will obey my commands. Syrax is more inclined to sleep than to fly," Daemon said calmly. He looked towards the sky, silently hoping that everything would go smoothly.
A deafening dragon roar echoed from the depths of the Dragonpit, followed by a sharp screech, an uneasy roar, and two faint dragon cries.
Here's a rough translation of what the roars meant:
Caraxes meant that he was now in charge of the Dragonpit. If the other dragons listened to him, they wouldn't be chained up, and they would have food delivered every day. Dreamfyre's roar implied "Who do you think you are? Why should we listen to you?" Syrax's roar suggested that she didn't care about their quarrel as she still had a clutch of eggs to lay. Moondancer and Morghul's cries meant that it was none of their business, and they would obey whoever won.
That was the general, possible, and perhaps even likely meaning.
Moments later, the pale blue dragon,
Dreamfyre, was the first to fly out of the Dragonpit's back gate, roaring loudly over the sea. Half of King's Landing was startled, but the Gold Cloaks had already posted notices, advising people to stay indoors as much as possible, and they were patrolling the city to maintain order.
Caraxes shot out of the Dragonpit like lightning, constantly stretching his neck and roaring at Dreamfyre. Dreamfyre finally couldn't bear it anymore. She soared high into the air and then dived down, trying to bite Caraxes's slender neck. But Caraxes dodged it with a twist of his serpentine body. Caraxes seemed to be enraged by Dreamfyre and unleashed a continuous stream of dragonfire at Dreamfyre, who hadn't had time to climb. The intense flames, although not harming Dreamfyre, pushed the century-old dragon towards the sea. Dreamfyre struggled to fly out of the water and also breathed dragonfire at Caraxes, but Caraxes dodged it again. However, Dreamfyre could not withstand Caraxes's counterattacks and was hit by the flames again, almost falling into the sea. After several repetitions, Dreamfyre finally lost her temper and, braving Caraxes's flames, charged straight at Caraxes, trying to use her teeth and claws to teach this young upstart a lesson.
But Caraxes was faster, more agile, and more ferocious. His serpentine body, though seemingly fragile, was actually extremely dangerous. The dragon grabbed Dreamfyre's back with one claw, and his tail coiled around Dreamfyre's legs. His neck, like a long snake, avoided the spikes on Dreamfyre's neck and wrapped around Dreamfyre's throat.
Dreamfyre instantly panicked and desperately struggled to shake off Caraxes, but Caraxes sprayed dragonfire at her neck at close range. Seeing Caraxes opening his mouth, intending to bite her neck, Dreamfyre finally gave up struggling and slowly landed on the open ground behind the Dragonpit with Caraxes still wrapped around her.
At that moment, far away in Summerfield, in the Great Sept of the Seven Dragons.
Helaena, dressed as a septa, suddenly stopped chanting. She looked up at the sky and suddenly smiled.