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Chapter 188: Return
🕑 Added 2025-03-05 12:27:04 +0000 UTCThe Cannibal was a well-known wild dragon, recorded by the renowned maester, Archmaester Gyldayn, in his book A True History of the Dance of the Dragons.
According to historical records, more than a hundred years ago, the Cannibal was already nearly as large as Balerion, making it the biggest wild dragon ever known.
Many would-be dragonriders of Targaryen descent had attempted to tame the Cannibal, but in the end, they all became nothing more than bones in its lair.
The Cannibal didn’t just feed on humans—it also preyed on other dragons. Its immense strength made it far superior in combat, with ordinary dragons standing no chance against it.
During the chaos of the Dance of the Dragons, this powerful wild dragon suddenly vanished. No one knew where it had gone, nor whether it had perished or was still alive.
Lynd was merely speculating at this point, but based on what was known about dragon growth, it would take at least several centuries for a dragon to reach the immense size of this sea dragon. And among the wild dragons that could have lived long enough to match this timeframe, the Cannibal seemed to be the only one.
As for Sheepstealer, even if it had survived to the present day, at best it would have grown to a size comparable to Balerion, which was still far smaller than this sea dragon.
...
While Lynd was observing the sea dragon and pondering its origins, the creature, now free of the pain in its head, thrashed about in delight.
Though its movements were exaggerated, its swaying neck and tail whipping through the air, it was careful enough to avoid where Lynd stood. The already muddy grass beneath them was churned into a full-blown quagmire.
After expressing its excitement, the sea dragon suddenly seemed to recall something. It turned toward Lynd, lowering its head once more.
Lynd sensed that the sea dragon wanted him to ride on its head.
Naturally, he had no reason to refuse. He leapt into the air, controlling the wind power of the dragon rune to propel himself onto the sea dragon’s head.
At the junction of the sea dragon’s neck and body, he noticed a slightly sunken joint that formed a natural seat. The spines running along its back framed the area like a built-in harness, keeping a rider in place and preventing them from sliding off due to the dragon’s movements.
Once Lynd was seated, he communicated with the sea dragon in a manner similar to how he had with Glory, conveying the message that he was ready.
Upon receiving the signal, the sea dragon turned around, crawled swiftly toward the lake’s edge, and then leapt into the water, plunging toward the depths.
Lynd had already guessed its intentions the moment they reached the lake, so he immediately activated the Frozen Dragon Rune, forming a simple diving bell around himself.
As the sea dragon descended, they reached the lakebed, where a wide tunnel opened up, large enough for the dragon to pass through with ease. Inside, a winding passageway stretched deep into the mountains.
The sea dragon swam through the passage for nearly ten minutes. The tunnel sloped downward the entire way, and after navigating a particularly narrow bend, they emerged into a vast, vertical cavern.
Without hesitation, the sea dragon surged upward, quickly breaking through the water’s surface and climbing into the dark cave above.
Though the cavern was shrouded in pitch-black darkness, Lynd’s enhanced vision allowed him to take in his surroundings. The enormous underground space was strewn with bones—human bones, animal bones, and even dragon bones. Apart from the skeletal remains, the only other visible element was dragon dung, scattered across the cave floor. It was clear that this place served as the sea dragon’s personal latrine.
The damp environment had caused the waste to ferment, filling the air with a thick concentration of methane gas. For an ordinary person, breathing in such conditions would have been impossible.
However, the sea dragon was entirely unfazed. It moved swiftly, carrying Lynd through the cavern and plunging into another vertical waterway. After traveling through a short tunnel, they emerged at the bottom of a canyon.
Looking up from the canyon floor, Lynd could see a sliver of sky above, though the cliffs flanking them were impossibly steep—at least a thousand meters high—blocking sunlight from reaching the ground. The entire canyon floor was blanketed in moss and other vegetation, but at the very least, there was fresh air here.
Wasting no time, Lynd dispelled the ice diving bell, allowing fresh air to replace the stale atmosphere inside. As a precaution, he used the Frozen Dragon Rune to create several additional diving bells around them in case they needed to submerge for an extended period again.
However, it seemed he had miscalculated this time. The canyon stretched on for miles, and the sea dragon continued its rapid advance for several hours without reaching an end.
Despite this, the sight of seabirds soaring above the canyon indicated that they had already passed through the heart of the Godsgrace Mountains and were now nearing the coastline.
Before long, a vast underground lake came into view, roughly the same size as the Forbidden Lake. Without hesitation, the sea dragon dove into the water, gliding through another submerged passage. After about ten minutes of swimming, a massive opening appeared ahead, where beams of sunlight shimmered through the water, illuminating the exit.
When the sea dragon emerged from the cave, it spread its tattered wings, flapping them like fins. Its long, slender body straightened into a sleek line as it shot forward, gliding swiftly through the ocean.
Before long, it spotted a school of fish ahead. Opening its massive jaws, it unleashed a blast of green flames. The dragonfire scorched the water where the fish swam, instantly turning the cold sea into boiling heat. Waves of shock energy rippled outward, killing any fish that had not been burned alive by the searing water.
A multitude of dead fish floated to the surface. The sea dragon swam over and feasted greedily, sinking itself into the mass of floating corpses so that Lynd could easily reach down and grab a few for himself.
Though the fish were only half-cooked, Lynd was ravenous—so hungry it felt as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He didn’t bother with the taste. Grabbing one after another, he devoured them raw.
The fish had a faintly fishy smell, but the meat was tender and palatable. After eating several as long as his forearm, Lynd finally felt full.
Only then did he start surveying his surroundings to determine their location.
It didn’t take long for him to recognize the landmark cliffs in the distance. This had to be the waters near Cape Godsgrace, not far from where he had previously fought the sea dragon.
His disappearance was sure to have caused a commotion, and the Miracle Fleet had likely sent ships to search for him. He decided to head toward the area where they might be looking, hoping to find one of the search vessels and gather some information.
With his decision made, Lynd issued a command to the sea dragon, using the same method he had used with Glory.
The sea dragon didn’t resist the order; in fact, it seemed eager to comply. It halted its feast and immediately sped off in the direction Lynd had indicated.
...
Near Godsgrace Cape, a fleet of over a dozen longships lay anchored. Sailors repeatedly dove into the depths, searching for something. Judging by the banners fluttering from the ships, they belonged to the Three Kraken Alliance, specifically to Baelor Blacktyde, the Sea Dog. The divers—all seasoned veterans—were his best men.
At the bow of his flagship, Baelor Blacktyde stood motionless, his expression unreadable as he watched his crew at work. Ever since taking over from the Sea Witch, Asha Greyjoy, he had spent nearly every day standing at the prow, overseeing the divers' search efforts from dawn until dusk.
Yet day after day, their search yielded nothing. The lack of results darkened Baelor’s mood, and his growing frustration spread to the crew of the Nightwalker. Even the most foul-mouthed sailors, usually fond of telling crude jokes, kept their silence, wary of provoking his ire.
Life in the Stepstones had stripped Baelor Blacktyde of the last traces of boyhood. Now, he carried the hardened, ruthless air of his Ironborn ancestors. Years of leading fleets in battle had forged him into a leader. If he returned to Blacktyde today to claim his inheritance, he would be a worthy lord of the Iron Islands.
Yet there was something that set him apart from the typical Ironborn. Around his neck, he wore a seven-pointed star pendant—a symbol that stood in stark contrast to his exterior.
His first mate approached and hesitantly suggested, “Boss, we've been searching here for half a month and found nothing. Why don’t we move to another area before Dagon Harlaw’s deep divers arrive for the handover? Maybe we’ll have better luck elsewhere.”
Baelor Blacktyde didn’t respond right away. He remained silent for a long moment before abruptly asking, “Do you think the Lord is still alive?”
The first mate was caught off guard. For a moment, he simply stood there, unsure how to respond.
The outside world was already saying that Lynd Tyrell had disappeared with the sea dragon two months ago—most assumed he was dead. But they weren’t talking about an ordinary man. They were talking about the Chosen of the Seven, the man who had slain White Walkers beyond the Wall and reclaimed the giants. Someone like that couldn’t be judged by common logic.
When his first mate failed to answer, Baelor did not press the question further. Instead, he gave the order: “Call the men back on board. We’re moving to a new search location.”
The first mate immediately relayed the command, and the sailors climbed back onto their ships one by one, preparing to set sail.
Just as the crew was methodically getting into position, the lookout atop the mast suddenly went pale. His voice rang out in a panicked shout:
“Dragon! Dragon!”
The crew froze.
Then, realization struck, and their faces turned ashen.
Baelor Blacktyde’s expression darkened, his face twisting with dread. The appearance of the sea dragon could only mean one thing—something had happened to Lynd. And to Baelor, that was an outcome he simply could not accept.
For years, Lynd had been his guiding light, the one he believed would lead them through the Long Night, defeat the White Walkers, and save humanity. The idea that such a savior had perished in the jaws of a sea dragon was unthinkable.
But he quickly shoved aside his despair, forcing himself into action. Drawing his longsword from his belt, he turned to his lieutenant and commanded, “Sound the duel horn. Even if we die, we will carve an unforgettable scar into that monster.”
The determination in Baelor’s voice snapped his lieutenant out of his panic. Without hesitation, he pulled the horn from his waist and blew a resounding battle signal.
The sound rang across the ships, and the sailors, who had moments ago been paralyzed with fear, now steeled themselves. They grabbed their spears, standing at the ready along the ship’s railings. The archers took up their best iron-tipped arrows, nocking them onto their bows, prepared to fire at a moment’s notice.
However, just as the entire fleet braced for battle, the lookout who had first spotted the sea dragon suddenly shouted again, his voice laced with alarm.
“It’s gone! It dived beneath the water!”
A tense silence followed. The crew rushed to the edges of their ships, peering into the dark depths, but the sea gave away nothing.
Then, without warning, a massive surge of water exploded from below. The ships lurched violently, rocking so hard that even seasoned sailors lost their footing, scrambling to steady themselves against the railings.
But these were men of the sea, hardened by years of sailing. They quickly adjusted to the violent swaying and regained their balance, turning their focus back to the threat.
And when they finally saw what had caused the wave, sheer terror gripped them.
All at once, the courage inspired by the duel horn evaporated. Even Baelor found himself momentarily frozen.
From the center of their fleet, an enormous, menacing dragon head rose from the water—a head as massive as a three-masted warship. Its thick, towering neck lifted it high above the ships, while its enormous, glowing eyes radiated a terrifying, predatory intelligence. The way it gazed down upon them made them feel like insects beneath its scrutiny.
And that was only the portion of its body above the surface. Everyone knew that what lay beneath the waves must be even more monstrous in scale. Against such a beast, they had no hope of victory. They weren’t even sure if they could so much as wound it.
Then, just as despair settled over the fleet, the sea dragon did something none of them had expected.
It spoke.
“Baelor! Why are you here?”
The crew froze.
Then, as one, they turned toward Baelor Blacktyde, their stunned faces mirroring his own.
Baelor felt his breath catch. He recognized that voice. It was unmistakable.
Cautiously, he asked, “Lord Lynd… is that you?”
“Of course it’s me,” came the reply, Lynd’s voice resonating from somewhere near the sea dragon’s massive throat.
As they watched, the sea dragon slowly sank, lowering itself until its body was level with the surrounding ships. And then, at last, the truth became clear—Lynd, who had been missing for two months, was seated at the junction of the dragon’s neck and body.
Realization dawned across the fleet.
For a moment, the silence was deafening.
Then, in an instant, the mood shifted from despair to sheer elation. Cheers erupted from the sailors, their voices ringing out in jubilant relief. Some of the divers, weakened from weeks of searching, were so overcome by emotion that they collapsed on the deck, fainting outright. The rest of the crew shouted with joy, overwhelmed by the sight of their lost leader alive and well.
Lynd, however, remained unfazed by the outpouring of relief around him. Using his mental bond, he instructed the sea dragon to remain nearby, swimming in the area but not straying too far.
Then, without hesitation, he stood up and leapt from the dragon’s back. A sudden gust of wind gathered around him, propelling him forward. With effortless precision, he landed on the deck of the Nightwalker.
Without wasting a second, he asked, “How long have I been missing?”
“More than two months,” Baelor answered immediately.
Lynd frowned, his mind already racing ahead.
“Tell me everything,” he said. “What’s happened in my territory since I disappeared?”
