Aegon and Aenar left the main keep where the reception hall was located.
As they walked through the stone-built corridors, sunlight streamed in like golden threads, casting a warm glow across the winding stone floor.
Aegon couldn't help but look around curiously—everything felt so new. Towering medieval spires and massive stone dragon sculptures loomed around them like spiritual monuments.
After all, he had only transmigrated into this world two days ago. The drastic change in environment still left him feeling slightly out of place.
Not long after, the sharp sound of shouting and clashing weapons echoed from up ahead.
Aegon looked up and saw a spacious training ground, surrounded by many warriors. In the center, a young man and woman were fully focused on sparring, their long swords clashing in bursts of metallic ring.
The young man seemed to notice Aegon, Aenar, and the steward approaching. With ease, he deflected the girl's sword and raised his hand to signal a pause.
He gave his wrist a subtle twist, spinning his blade into an elegant flourish before reversing his grip and walking to the edge of the training ground. A bright smile on his face, he called out curiously to Aenar:
"Father, where are you going?"
At that moment, Aegon realized this young man had to be Gaemon Targaryen. When Aegon had been cast out of the Targaryen family by his mother, Gaemon had only just been born—naturally, he wouldn't recognize his older brother.
Aegon's first impression of Gaemon was that of a cheerful, energetic young man. His short golden hair looked crisp and tidy, and his square-shaped face gave off a strong, upright aura.
"To the Dragonpit, to test the concentration of his true dragon blood," Aenar replied calmly, turning slightly to glance at Aegon. His expression was stern, carrying the air of a strict father. He made no mention of Aegon's real identity, and Aegon, picking up on the cue, didn't say anything either. There was a kind of silent understanding between them.
The girl quickly walked over, about a head shorter than Gaemon.
"Can we come too?" she asked sweetly.
"Yeah, my sister and I haven't tested our bloodline either. Let's go together," Gaemon suggested to Aenar.
Aegon's eyes fell on the graceful young woman.
She had large, pale violet eyes, shimmering with a watery gleam that made her look irresistibly endearing. It was nearly impossible to turn her down.
Aenar's expression softened noticeably when he looked at his daughter. "You two can come as well. Aegon wants to join the Dragon Taming Tournament—maybe you'll be teammates. This will give you a chance to get to know each other."
"Yay!" Daenys cheered, pumping her tiny fist in excitement.
Taking the opportunity, Aenar leaned closer to Aegon and said in a low voice, "All legitimate children of our Dragonlord family are given a chance, as infants, to request a dragon egg from the Dragonlord Council to be placed in their cradle. But these two both failed to hatch theirs. This tournament is their last chance."
Aegon listened and gave a small nod.
The siblings, still clad in the leather training armor they had worn, jogged over to join them, their steps light and eager.
Aegon gave a slight bow and said politely, "My name is Aegon. It's a pleasure to meet you both."
Gaemon stepped forward without hesitation, reached out his hand, and gave Aegon a firm handshake. With a hearty grin, he said, "I'm Gaemon. Around the Targaryen Hills near the capital, if you run into any trouble, just drop my name—I've got your back. Haha!"
"Then I'll be counting on you in the future," Aegon replied with a gentle smile, thinking to himself how appearances truly reflected personality—this guy was definitely the straightforward type.
As soon as Aegon clasped Gaemon's broad palm, he activated his chip talent and began scanning his stats.
[Gaemon Targaryen:
Attributes — Politics: 56; Strategy: 46; Military Command: 75; Mental Strength: 43; Vitality: 96.
Talents: Strong Arms, Courageous, Inbred, True Dragonblood - Dragonseed
Skills: …]
Aegon took a quick glance and then closed the panel. He had to admit, Gaemon's dazzling stats were impressive. He was clearly a highly specialized warrior, and a vitality score of 96 was staggering. Back in the Three Kingdoms era, he could've gone head-to-head with Lü Bu in sheer strength.
Beside them, Daenys looked a bit shy. She clung tightly to her brother's arm and said softly, "My name is Daenys."
Aegon smiled warmly. "Lady Daenys is very beautiful."
Her cheeks flushed at the compliment, and she tucked herself behind Gaemon.
"She's always like this," Gaemon said fondly as he gently pulled her out from behind him. "A little shy around strangers, but she warms up once she gets to know you."
Aegon nodded with a smile. Seeing she had no intention of shaking hands, he quietly set aside his curiosity about her "Dreamer" trait—for now.
Once everyone had introduced themselves, Aenar spoke up. "Alright. Now that you've met, let's not waste any more time."
At his prompt, the group began walking together toward the Dragonpit.
Gaemon was quite chatty along the way.
From their conversation, Aegon learned that Gaemon and Daenys were close in age. He was three years older than Gaemon, while Daenys had been born just a year after him—she had only just turned sixteen.
Gaemon's cheerful personality was on full display as he spoke excitedly about his admiration for dragons and his eagerness to participate in next month's Dragon Taming Tournament.
Aegon listened attentively, occasionally chiming in. The two hit it off well.
Aenar walked steadily ahead, and the sounds of their conversation naturally drifted to his ears. Hearing his children talking so comfortably, he felt quietly relieved. He'd originally been concerned that Aegon might be hostile toward his legitimate son Gaemon, but from how things looked, the two were getting along just fine—and that eased his worries.
Daenys remained a little reserved in Aegon's presence.
She simply held onto Gaemon's arm and followed beside them quietly, listening to their conversation and occasionally responding with a soft "mm-hmm."
They followed a winding stone path, and as they walked, the surrounding scenery grew increasingly barren. A massive canyon loomed ahead, and inside, dozens of giant caves had been carefully carved out. Each was several stories high, with broad stone platforms in front—resembling helicopter pads from Aegon's previous life.
The Dragonkeepers tending the dragons noticed their arrival and stepped forward respectfully to greet them, leading the group into the Dragonpit.
Countless flickering ceiling-mounted candles lit the cavern, with torches placed every few meters along the stone walls. Together, they cast the entire space in a dim, shifting light.
Strange pictographic runes were carved into the surrounding walls—so complex that even Aegon, who had some knowledge of High Valyrian, couldn't decipher them.
A faint sulfuric scent lingered in the air.
Even Gaemon fell silent once they entered the Dragonpit.
As they passed some of the branching paths, Aegon caught glimpses of massive black shadows—each several stories tall.
Looks like the Targaryens have more than one fully grown dragon, Aegon thought to himself.
The Dragonkeepers led them deeper into the cave.
The constant progression through the dark tunnels gave Aegon the surreal sense that they were adventurers delving into a dungeon, heading straight for a dragon boss.
Eventually, they reached a colossal natural cavern. The space suddenly opened up, and countless stalactites hung from the ceiling.
At the center stood a huge stone nest, and inside it lay a black dragon, nearly a hundred meters long, sound asleep.
Their arrival seemed to disturb the beast. It slowly opened its massive eyelids. A thin, lizard-like membrane retracted, and its vertical pupils locked straight onto Aenar.
"This is my dragon—Balerion," Aenar said, lifting his chin slightly as he met the creature's gaze. "He's also one of the rare few in the Freehold with the potential to become a Dragonlord-class dragon."
Aegon's jaw slackened slightly as he stared, unblinking, at Balerion—the mighty beast known in his past life as the "Black Dread."
This is the dragon of my dreams, he screamed inwardly.
In the vast cavernous nest, Balerion looked like a black mountain. His immense body filled most of the space, and his scales shimmered in the dim light, as if forged from the hardest obsidian.
The sharp horns on his head jutted out like two black swords, radiating a chilling menace.
"You're practically drooling," Gaemon teased, nudging Aegon with his shoulder and grinning.
Daenys covered her mouth and let out a quiet giggle.
Aenar turned to the three of them, clearly pleased by the awe in their eyes.
"To test your bloodline," he explained, "you'll walk up the stone steps toward the Black Dread. If your true dragon blood is strong enough to tame a dragon, you'll be able to get within ten paces of Balerion."
"No problem."
Just as Aegon was about to step forward, Aenar grabbed his shoulder. Aegon looked back, confused.
"If your true dragon blood is too thin," Aenar said solemnly, his eyes locked on Aegon's, "you'll be burned to ashes by Balerion's dragonfire before you even reach fifty steps. Not even I could save you."
He paused, then asked, "Are you absolutely sure you want to take this test?"
Aegon gave him a brilliant smile.
"I'd rather die than not ride a dragon."