Forcibly extracting the soul and absorbing it into his body, Wright was overwhelmed by Durnehviir's powerful consciousness and vast knowledge. Durnehviir had lived for an unknown length of time, and the knowledge extracted from its soul wasn't just about mundane matters like eating, drinking, and excretion. Wars, magic, and all sorts of miscellaneous knowledge flooded into Wright's mind. From the ancient dragon wars, the Soul Cairn, and Skyrim, to being summoned into this world, Durnehviir had witnessed the early establishment of the ancient Valyrian Empire.
The dragons of this world were all descendants of Odahviing, summoned by a certain man five thousand years ago. While Odahviing's descendants were mostly normal in form, Durnehviir's descendants were often deformed in some way—some with extremely elongated bodies, others without scales, and some even lacking wings or legs. After the man's death, Durnehviir had traveled alone to the Shadowlands, turning the entire peninsula into a wasteland.
The magical knowledge in its mind was vast and varied, including large-scale spells developed by the unsavory man in his later years, runes, enchantments, magical artifacts, and even magical architecture.
From Durnehviir's fragmented memories, Wright also learned why it had attacked him. After arriving in this world, Durnehviir had lost the protection of the Dragon God and could not return to the Soul Cairn on its own. The world's magic was also gradually depleting, and the toxins in its body began to torment it incessantly. Dragons do not have a concept of death, but when Euron, representing the Daedric Prince Hermaeus Mora, approached it with a deal, Durnehviir saw a way out.
The deal was to capture Wright Baratheon alive and turn him into Hermaeus Mora's servant. In return, the Daedric Prince would open his realm, allowing the dragon to return to its original world. However, Durnehviir knew Hermaeus Mora would not be so generous. If it defeated Wright, both of them would become Mora's servants upon entering his realm, and their knowledge would be absorbed. But after thousands of years of suffering, Durnehviir's mind was no longer clear, and it was willing to agree to anything to end its torment. Even if it lost, the Dragonborn's power could still grant it release.
After fully processing this information, Wright's mind gradually cleared, but when he opened his eyes, he found himself in complete darkness. Reaching out, he realized he had been buried under rubble. Wright thought to himself, "How long have I been asleep? A year? Ten years? Or decades?"
"Fus~~Ro~~Dah~~~~!"
The pile of boulders on the mountaintop exploded from within, sending shards of rock flying in all directions.
Wright leaped out of the crater. It was night, but his eyes could see countless white glowing dots covering the mountains and fields. Nearby, he noticed something glowing as well. Squatting down to inspect it, he found a rod-shaped mushroom, about the length of a human forearm, with a thin white stem and a small round bulb at the top that emitted a white light.
"Damn, even the ecosystem has changed! How long have I been out?" Wright muttered, looking around in confusion.
He checked his body and found that his dragonbone armor was still intact, as was the Bloodskal Blade. His bare right leg was the result of him removing the armor earlier.
Wright turned to leave the mountain, but as he did, he saw Odahviing standing motionless, a large rock still clamped in its jaws.
"Did you bury me?" Wright shouted.
"It was about to rain, so I covered you!" Odahviing spat out the rock, its voice muffled.
Seeing the freshly healed wounds on Odahviing's body, Wright realized he hadn't been unconscious for long and felt relieved. "You're just bored, aren't you?"
"Dragonborn, heal me again!" The massive dragon's head leaned close to Wright.
Wright jumped onto Odahviing's head and cast a healing spell on its scales. "Fly up first. There was a small golden dragon that fell into the valley after I hit it with a spell. Let's go find it now!"
The dragon flew slowly through the air. "That little dragon from House Targaryen you mentioned? I ate it!"
"You ate it?" Wright quickly jumped off Odahviing's head and ran along its neck to its back. 'I can't absorb its dragon soul! Is it because Odahviing's body is too large, or is its living flesh blocking me from absorbing it?'
"Dragonborn, are we going home?"
"We can't go home! The plague Durnehviir spread is still out there. We can't bring it back to Tyrosh." Wright returned to Odahviing's head and looked around, pointing in a direction. "Head to Meereen first!"
The ground was covered with glowing mushrooms, both inside Meereen and in the wild. From high above, Wright observed that wherever Durnehviir's toxic mist had passed, mushrooms now grew.
The dragon landed outside Meereen, and Wright entered the city alone.
Many had died in Meereen due to the plague. Piles of firewood were set up throughout the city to burn the bodies of the deceased nobles. Surviving slaves dug pits outside the city, throwing the bodies of their fellow slaves into them for burial.
After wandering around, Wright finally found a familiar face in the Great Pyramid and learned what had happened after he lost consciousness.
Wright had only been unconscious for five hours after extracting the dragon's soul. After Durnehviir's death, the mold parasites it had spread began to die as well. However, as the mold died, it expended all its remaining life force to grow stalks in an attempt to reproduce. The elderly, children, and the weak were instantly drained of their nutrients by the mold's mycelium, turning them into desiccated corpses.
The Windblown Company originally had close to 2,000 members, and only about 300 had died during the city defense. However, the glowing mushrooms that burst forth afterward claimed the lives of most of the remaining soldiers. Now, only 400 survivors remained.
The body of the Tattered Prince lay on a pyre, countless glowing mushrooms sprouting from his skin, piercing through the gaps in his armor and exposing their luminous parts to the air. His face was also covered in a dense layer of mushrooms.
Wright plucked one of the mushrooms to examine it. Fortunately, the mushroom's cap hadn't yet opened; otherwise, the reproductive spores inside would have spread with the wind, potentially affecting the entire continent.
Wright ignited a flame in his hand and burned the mushroom to ash. "If there's not enough firewood, pile the bodies outside the city. I'll have the dragon burn them!"
A teenage slaver, now the head of his household after his father's death, approached. "Lord Wright, we still need to hold a funeral."
Wright removed his helmet and looked at the young man, then addressed everyone in the hall. "Two days! In two days at most, these mushrooms will begin to reproduce, and then a plague will sweep across the entire continent! As for the funeral, being turned to ash by my dragon in the presence of your loved ones is an honor many would never have the chance to experience!"
Being burned by dragonfire in the presence of family was indeed a high honor. Some of the more astute individuals also caught the underlying message in Wright's words: if they didn't burn the bodies themselves, Wright would do it, and he might just burn the entire pyramid along with them.
"Quick! Have the slaves move all the bodies outside the city!" The surviving Great Masters began to scramble.
Wright raised his hand and ignited the pyre beneath the Tattered Prince, watching as his hair and the mushrooms turned to ash in the flames.
Caggo Corpsekiller approached. "Lord Wright."
"What is it?" Wright didn't turn around, his eyes still fixed on the pyre.
"Before the Tattered Prince succumbed to illness, he entrusted me with the leadership of the Windblown Company. The Windblown has not disbanded and will continue to fulfill the contract we signed with you, Lord Wright." Caggo bowed to Wright, and the surviving members of the Windblown gathered around him.
Caggo the Corpsekiller, Pretty Meris, the crossbowman Beans, and the treasurer Hugh Hungerford—of the people Wright knew, only these four remained alive. "I will also honor my promises. Haha, the Windblown! Very well! I, Wright Baratheon, declare you the finest mercenary company on the continent!"
"Roar!"
"We will not fail our mission!" The Windblown members saluted Wright, their morale restored.
Wright's hand glowed with a yellow light as he cast a large healing circle on the ground. "Everyone still alive, walk through this circle. It won't cure all diseases, but it will at least help you live a little longer."
Upon hearing this, everyone in the hall—whether Great Masters or soldiers—began to line up and walk through the magical circle.
"Where is Daenerys?" Wright shouted.
"She's over here." Meris pushed through the crowd, walked to the wall, and effortlessly lifted Daenerys with one hand. She strode over to Wright and threw Daenerys to the ground.
"You've won. Are you going to execute me now?" Daenerys, her hands and feet still shackled, looked up at Wright, already anticipating her fate.
Wright drew the greatsword from his back. With two swift strikes, he cleanly severed the iron shackles.
"Your two dragons are dead, your nephew's dragon is dead, and now your only purpose is to return to King's Landing so I can complete Robert's task!"
Wright grabbed her by the neck with his right hand, lifted her, and threw her into the pyre where the Tattered Prince was being burned.
"Trying to burn me alive?" Daenerys's clothes caught fire, and she curled up in the flames, using her hands to cover her vital areas. Despite her predicament, she continued to speak calmly to Wright.
Wright ignored her. She was the one who had caused this war in the first place. Since she was also carrying the mold, Wright felt that using even a trace of magic on her would be a waste. He simply threw her into the fire to disinfect her.
"Once the pyre burns out, shackle her again and lock her in a room. I'm taking her back to King's Landing." Wright spoke as he walked toward the city gates, but he paused at the entrance and turned back. "Gag her with cloth. Don't let her bite her tongue and kill herself!"
"As you command, Lord Wright, though I doubt she has the courage to bite her own tongue." Meris drew her sword and used it to nudge the burning logs closer to Daenerys.
The bodies in Meereen were continuously moved outside the city. Once enough had been piled up, the golden-red dragonfire would ignite. In his spare time, Wright and Odahviing burned every patch of glowing mushrooms they could find in the outskirts, turning the ground outside Meereen, including the mountains, into crystallized, hardened blocks.
Wright also inspected the dragon bones in the crater. The bones were completely lifeless, resembling fossils—hard but brittle, with no value beyond decoration. Wright had Odahviing burn the bones with dragonfire, then removed the massive dragon skull and had Odahviing carry it away in its jaws.
The unseen enemy was the most terrifying—plague. Wright didn't dare return to Tyrosh, and neither did Odahviing. They decided to stay in Meereen for a while longer to observe the situation, only planning to return once they were certain the plague had stopped spreading.
All living creatures in Meereen had perished, but fortunately, the Volantenes arrived, bringing with them ample supplies of food.
They had originally led their army to Meereen to support Wright, but before they arrived, they encountered scattered, fleeing troops. After a battle, they encircled and annihilated the enemy, but some soldiers from Volantis contracted a disease.
The officers immediately ordered a halt to the march and quarantined the sick. It was only after seeing Wright riding a great dragon, spewing dragonfire, that they resumed their advance and entered Meereen.
The Volantene forces also brought Wright some good news.
In a distant valley near Meereen, scattered supplies were strewn about. All the tents and wooden structures had been burned to charcoal. The Volantene soldiers stood nearby, executing the remaining survivors one by one, beheading them in succession.
On a large rock, Aegon Targaryen lay weakly, barely clinging to life.
"So this is what you look like," he murmured, tilting his head to look at Wright, who was clad only in a white robe. His voice was faint.
"Not bad, right? Much stronger than the men of House Targaryen!" Wright leaned in to examine him. His eyes were lifeless, his lips pale, and beneath his skin, white thread-like filaments wriggled. He was beyond saving. The only thing left to do was talk with him in his final moments.
"If not for you, I could have killed Robert, Stannis, and Renly Baratheon without them even knowing it was me!" Aegon grinned.
"It's a pity, but this is fate," Wright said, casting a healing spell to ease his pain.
"Our dragons are dead, and Daenerys is in your hands. She no longer poses a threat to you. Please, spare her life," Aegon pleaded, looking into Wright's eyes with hope.
"Don't worry. King Robert's orders are to take her back to King's Landing. If he wanted her dead, he wouldn't have given such an order."
Aegon's expression eased slightly as he gazed at Odahviing gliding through the sky. "Magic, dragons the size of castles, warriors standing atop dragons in battle... Wright, according to my sources, you have seen the ancestors of Valyria. Is that true?"
Standing nearby, Dofas Pennymion stepped forward. "I swear upon my pure Valyrian blood—I have personally witnessed Lord Wright fighting and conversing with the ancestors."
Wright gripped his massive sword. "Your ancestor was powerful—he almost killed me. This sword was his weapon. He was not a direct ancestor of House Targaryen but rather his brother. As for your ancient forefather, I met him too—he was a spirit. We spoke for half an hour."
Aegon stared at the greatsword, believing their words. "Did the ancestors fight atop dragons as you do?"
"Yes, standing on the dragon's head, gripping its horns, casting spells, and battling alongside it."
Aegon gazed at the sky, then he turned his eyes to Wright. "Tell me about that Valyrian ancestor."
"Alright," Wright said, beginning to recount the story of the wretched man. The surrounding Volantene officers listened intently—this was a true ancient secret.
At some point, as he listened, Aegon Targaryen closed his eyes. Beneath his skin, the white filaments pushed up in clusters. Wright noticed but continued telling the tale.
When the story ended, Wright and the Volantene soldiers stepped back.
"Odahviing!"
A torrent of scorching dragonfire rained down from the sky, its golden-red flames melting the stone beneath Aegon, fusing his ashes into the molten rock.
Wright summoned his mage's hand, shaping the molten stone into a black monument. He then lifted his greatsword and carved into it:
The Last Dragon of the Valyrian Empire.
House Targaryen: Aegon Targaryen's Tomb.