Game of Thrones: Killing to the top

"Any King who must say ' I am King' is no real king, It reeks of weakness no king should have to say that. Sadly there have been many such kings, but I assure you I am not one of them."

 Aegon Targaryen to *************** 

If I get enough power stones I'll drop one more chapter this week.

Aegon stepped toward them, his hand hovering over the eggs. The pull intensified.

His newly awakened blood recognized them.

And they, in turn, recognized him.

The eggs were still dormant and still stone like but they were waiting for him.

Aegon exhaled, his hand gripping the largest egg, its surface warm beneath his fingers.

Aegon turned looking around the room, he wasn't sure how much time had passed in his transformation but he was feeling more changes.

His mind felt sharper.

His thoughts flowed with clarity.

His body felt different too. Stronger. More balanced. The aches of battle were no longer present. The pain in his ribs where the bloodrider's dagger had cut deep was gone.

He pulled back the fabric of his tunic and glanced at his side.

The wound had vanished.

Not a scar. Not even a hint of soreness. It was as if he had never been injured in the first place.

Aegon clenched his fist, feeling the raw strength coursing through his body. He was faster. More resilient.

A smirk played on his lips.

This was power.

Yet, despite the newfound strength, he pushed aside the thought of using the six hundred points required to hatch the dragon eggs.

Not yet.

It was tempting, the idea of bringing forth dragons now. But Aegon knew bringing them now or two months from now would all be the same.

He was going to use points to increase their size greatly, so why not wait until he had a stockpile of points and also a bigger army?

Instead, he set them aside, knowing that the time would come when they would be needed.

For now, there was something more important to consider.

Aegon sat cross-legged on the thick furs of his tent, his mind sinking into thought.

War.

For the first time since he had reincarnated, he felt something unfamiliar.

Nervousness.

He had always been a killer. A fighter. A predator.

But leading an army?

Waging a large-scale war?

That was different.

Killing a man face-to-face was simple. Tactics, formations, strategy? That was a different battlefield altogether.

He had never commanded men into battle. Never led a force against another. And yet, that was exactly what he had to do next.

Aegon let out a slow breath.

He was confident in his ability to kill. But war was more than just killing.

It was maneuvering, positioning, and knowing when to strike and when to hold back.

And he had never done it before.

That thought sent an unfamiliar sensation down his spine.

Aegon had never been afraid of battle. Not once.

But this?

This was a challenge he had never faced.

And that excited him.

A small grin crept onto his face as he clenched his fists.

Aegon had no experience leading troops, but he had one undeniable advantage.

His system.

His instincts.

And his sheer willingness to learn.

War was coming.

And he would master it.

As the morning sun bathed the camp in golden light, Aegon emerged from his tent.

The Dothraki warriors were already awake, their eyes turning toward him as he stepped forward.

Silence fell over the camp.

They stared.

Not in the way men look upon a Khal, but as if they were witnessing something unnatural.

Their Khal had changed.

Aegon's hair, once dark had fully transformed into a radiant silver, except for one deep strand of black running through it a silent reminder of the Stark blood that still flowed through his veins.

His eyes, once a dull grey, now shone a deep, commanding purple, carrying the weight of something ancient and undeniable.

He was taller. Broader. Sharper.

He was no longer the same man who had taken the khalasar just hours ago.

The superstitions of the Dothraki ran deep. They believed in omens, in power, in strength. And Aegon who had already slain their previous Khal and his bloodriders now stood before them, transformed.

The warriors lowered their heads slightly, not yet bowing, but acknowledging the power standing before them.

Aegon felt their eyes on him.

He did not smile. He did not acknowledge their awe.

Aegon strode past the gathered warriors and walked toward his horse, a fierce black stallion that had belonged to the previous Khal.

As he climbed into the saddle, he called forth his system map.

The world expanded before his eyes.

Dots representing different Dothraki khalasars scattered across the vast Dothraki Sea, some small, others massive, each moving like a wave across the endless grasslands.

His purple eyes locked onto one.

A khalasar of one thousand warriors.

A perfect first target.

His hand clenched into a fist.

This was the beginning.

He turned to his warriors, his voice ringing out in perfect Dothraki, learned through his system.

"We ride!"

No more words were needed.

The Dothraki roared in approval, and within moments, the hooves of two thousand riders thundered across the endless plains.

Aegon rode at the front, his silver hair flowing behind him, his hunger for conquest burning stronger than ever.

As they traveled Aegon quickly pulled up his status screen and took a look.

Name: Aegon Targaryen

Age: 14

Free Points: 999

Skills ( max skill level is 15/ normal people can only reach lv10 max in any skill): Swordsman (lv 10), dagger (lv 2) Archery (lv 10), Dothraki language (lv5)

Body: 120

Mind:90

Blood:410

He noticed his body and mind were higher than he expected after adding forty to each on the merchant ship, he simply attributed it to the increase after his primary blood awakening, he also noticed he didn't gain any of the abilities of the bloodlines he carried.

But the most alarming thing was the number of points he had, he knew it would drop quickly but actually seeing the number made it real, he needed more.

It's a good thing he was heading into war, points were coming soon.