Game of Thrones: Bastard? I’m the Damn Heir!

Maybe I should try asking those three vampires. I remember their children turn out to be gargoyles, and they also know blood magic...

No, no good. Those vampires are dark creatures. Can't mess around with them!

Or maybe the temple might have a solution. And those well-traveled elves—maybe they know something?

Unable to find any clear answer, Kal brooded in silence, on the verge of grasping at straws.

But just then, a faint sound suddenly echoed near his ear—biu~!

Kal was startled awake, his head snapping up on reflex.

He looked in the direction where Artessa had been. In the next instant, a flash of light erupted, the air visibly rippled—and then, just like that, the towering figure of Artessa vanished into thin air.

But Kal, long accustomed to this scene, didn't panic. He simply shifted his upward gaze downward.

Following the movement of his eyes, he saw the massive dragon—Artessa, the size of a freight truck—suddenly twist her body and transform.

In the blink of an eye, she had become a woman clad in nothing but a garment made from golden metal chains. It was barely enough to cling to her body—let alone cover anything. Her figure was explosively voluptuous, almost inhumanly so.

This 'succubus' with small curved horns atop her head, green-skinned pointed ears, and limbs still resembling shrunken dragon claws, walked toward Kal with fluid, confident strides.

Now in humanoid form, Artessa wrapped her arm around Kal's and glanced at the golden egg.

"I know it's a dragon egg. I don't know where you got it, but that doesn't change the fact—it's still just a useless rock."

"And even if it isn't a rock, and it somehow really does hatch, all that'll come out is a mindless lesser dragon!"

The contempt in Artessa's voice was unmistakable. She was clearly displeased that Kal had dumped this useless rock on her, expecting her to incubate it.

After all, in her eyes, that 'stone' wasn't of her kind. It was merely a subspecies sharing some distant bloodline.

Besides—she already had an unformed true dragon growing in her womb. Which only made it harder for her to understand why Kal cared so much about this thing.

Hearing her say this, Kal slowly shook his head, an involuntary trace of disappointment flickering in his eyes.

It wasn't her evaluation of the egg that disappointed him.

It was the creeping doubt—whether he truly had no way of awakening the dragon sealed within that stone.

Daenerys Targaryen's three dragon eggs hatched during the resurgence of the magic tide.

There was no dispute in the world of Ice and Fire: the appearance and existence of dragons were intrinsically tied to magic, that peculiar substance.

Yet now, Kal had already obtained a dragon egg and infused it with ample magic.

He had even gone as far as to find a professional dragon to surrogate and incubate it—yet the damn thing still remained unresponsive, utterly inert.

Not even the slightest reaction—how humiliating...

Unable to grasp the root of the problem, Kal stared deeply at the dragon egg resting securely atop a cushion stitched from velvet and silk.

Under close scrutiny, it looked like a golden, beautiful, and exquisitely crafted work of art.

But nothing more.

Staring at the egg that refused to respond no matter how much he tried, Kal could only let out a helpless sigh. 'Sigh… If only I could take you out of this world.'

As he spoke, Kal couldn't help turning his head, gaze burning as he looked at Artessa, who was clinging excitedly to his arm.

Say what you will—if he could bring her back, even if Artessa did nothing and just lay there every day like some mascot, Kal would be absolutely overjoyed.

And even if it meant shouting at the top of his lungs to all of Westeros that he was the true Son of the Dragon, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne—he wouldn't hesitate for a second.

After all, in the world of Ice and Fire, after centuries of Targaryen rule, dragons had become a symbol—one with very specific meaning.

To possess one was to be king beyond dispute.

Unfortunately, despite how effortlessly he could converse with Artessa now, the truth remained—Artessa was, in essence, like an NPC.

A host in a Westworld scenario.

She could never override the underlying logic that governed her existence—because she was one of the very rules that structured this world.

Apart from interacting and doing a few... things with her, Kal could do nothing else.

That was simply how she was programmed—such was the rule of this world.

And Kal was nowhere near powerful enough to rewrite the rules of a world.

All he could do... was nothing.

Yet upon hearing Kal's sigh, Artessa—though not fully understanding it—still instinctively offered comfort: "Kal, don't let this stuff trouble you!"

"Why are you so fixated on a dragon jumping out of a rock? It's totally meaningless!"

"So instead, why not look forward to your child? I can feel it growing a little more each day... and we both miss you very much…!"

Although Kal knew that the emotions Artessa displayed were part of her programming, he still found them... deeply pleasant.

He couldn't resist pulling her into an embrace.

Artessa shivered slightly, then leaned into him with a long, contented sigh.

Kal's hands wandered her form with a dancer's grace, savoring every impossible curve as if rediscovering them for the first time.

He chuckled under his breath, lifting her into his arms with ease—bridal-style—and carried her to the nearby bed.

She responded by claiming his lips with her own, welcoming the invasion of his eager tongue, her gaze heavy with a worshipful intensity that only deepened by the second.

As Kal laid her gently down, Artessa gasped softly in anticipation when he reached for the delicate golden chains draped across her body—chains that hid nothing and only teased the eye. With one primal tug, he tore them away, leaving her gloriously bare beneath him.

"Mmm..." she moaned, her voice low and inviting as he trailed soft kisses along her jaw, her intoxicating scent filling his lungs.

His lips lingered at her neck, then drifted lower, over her delicate collarbones.

And then—he paused.

Why rush, when the treasures before him so clearly deserved reverence?

Her breasts rose with every breath, firm and full, too perfect not to worship.

"Harder," she whispered, her voice like silk wrapping around fire, as his mouth teased her with fleeting kisses.

"As you wish," Kal murmured, letting his hands glide over her curves before cupping her breasts fully, reacquainting himself with the velvet smoothness of her skin. Then he leaned in and took her into his mouth, sucking firmly until a vivid red mark bloomed.

"Better?" he asked, voice husky.

"Much better," she breathed.

Kal's mouth remained on her chest, while one hand roamed lower—down her stomach, past her navel—until it finally found the warm, waiting prize between her soft, inviting thighs.

"Oh yes..." she gasped, as his finger circled her clit with maddening precision, the breathless moan that followed rising sharply as he slipped inside her.

Her slickness clung to his fingers as he added another, pumping them steadily.

"Faster, please," she begged, her voice cracking with need.

"As you wish, my love," he replied playfully, grazing her breasts with his teeth even as his fingers moved faster, deeper.

Only when her moans crescendoed, her breath catching in short bursts, did he pull back—sensing how close she was.

"More," she pleaded, her legs wrapping tightly around him, hips rolling forward in invitation.

"You want me inside you?" he asked. She nodded, breathless.

"You want me to slide into you hard, to take you without mercy?"

"Yes," she whimpered, clutching him tighter. "I still burn from your touch. Finish it—please."

Kal grinned darkly and pulled back—but instead of standing, he turned her over with a swift motion, admiring the view of her plush backside.

Pressing one hand between her shoulder blades to hold her in place, he quickly stripped off his clothes, matching her nakedness.

Then he leaned over her again, his arousal nestling snugly between her soft cheeks.

He returned to her neck, but this time, slowly wound her gleaming hair around his hand—once, twice, three times—until it became a silken rope he could pull, tilting her head back to meet his lips in a searing kiss.

Her hips trembled beneath him, desperate for more, only for Kal to shift his focus again—nipping her neck just hard enough to leave his mark.

"Are you ready?" he whispered.

"Yes…" she started—only to cry out sharply as he entered her in one fierce thrust, her inner walls parting around him, warmed and relaxed from his prolonged teasing.

Still, the way she cried out was utterly delicious—and he took the opportunity to swallow her moan with another kiss.

Her body gripped him tightly, as if trying to resist his intrusion, though her sounds of pleasure told a very different story.

Without hesitation, Kal wrapped his arms around her and stood.

Two strides later, he pinned her between the cold stone wall and the heat of his body.

The contrast of temperature made her moan louder, pressing her cheek to the wall as he began to move.

The rhythmic slap of skin on skin filled the air, broken only by the occasional firm smack to her rear—unable to resist the allure of her curves.

She took everything he gave her, hands braced against the wall like a captive surrendering willingly to her captor.

She moaned with every thrust, pleasure deepening with each relentless push.

Kal took her with unrelenting force, and still, Artessa responded only with eager cries.

Even when he slowed to let her catch her breath, her whimper of disappointment urged him on.

And so he did—driving into her harder, determined to take her all the way.

Too bad the stamina of a dragoness was no small thing...

Even for Kal, who had been enhanced by the game's system.

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