Game of Thrones: The Bronze and Fire Lord

Vormithor's pupils were cold and indifferent, as if he was crushing a few tiny insects.

Aemon opened his mouth slightly, and had a direct feeling of its power.

"Roar!"

Vormithor shook his head, growled at the silver-haired boy, and retreated back under the platform.

But it didn't want to go back to sleep.

Aemon looked around and noticed that there was a second natural cave deep in the cave, leading directly to the outside of Dragon Mountain.

That was the passage for the giant dragon to enter and exit.

Vormithor turned his body, supported the ground with his wings, raised dust, and crawled towards the cave entrance.

It was going out to find food.

"No, I haven't started yet."

Aemon was quick-witted and ran to the edge of the platform at a high speed.

The elders of the Dragon Cave said.

Feeding the giant dragon is more conducive to taming.

And if you fail to tame a dragon once, it will be difficult to have a second chance.

"Absolutely can't let go."

Aemon was determined, his chest rose and fell violently, ready.

He was going to tame a dragon tonight.

It had to be this one!

Vormithor turned around completely, sweeping the platform with its thick tail, mercilessly choosing to ignore it.

It had no interest in recognizing its master.

As a masterless dragon, it would rather wait for a powerful warrior than a weak cub that craves power.

The weak are not worthy of touching it.

It was this cold attitude that really stimulated Aemon's competitive spirit.

"Look at me, Vormithor!"

He took a step forward and his shout echoed in the cave.

Vormithor snorted heavily and ignored it.

"You can't escape."

Aemon's eyes were bright and he had made up his mind.

He looked down at the height of the platform, which was slightly higher than the broad dragon back.

"Here I come!"

Aemon gritted his teeth and jumped on the edge of the platform.

The small body flew into the air, drawing a not-so-smooth parabola.

The feeling of weightlessness came, and his hands and feet were numb.

Bang!

He fell heavily on the back covered with bronze scales, bounced twice, and almost slid down the dragon's tail.

"I caught you."

Aemon groaned in pain, his hands clasping the gaps between the scales.

He fell from a height of several meters. Thanks to the strengthening of [Solid as a Rock], he would have been smashed into a meat pie.

"Hiss—"

Vormithor turned his head suddenly, his copper-bright vertical pupils stared at the little thing on his back, and he cruelly opened his dragon mouth.

When Aemon looked up, he saw the fire accumulating deep in his throat.

"No! No dragon flame!"

High Valyrian blurted out, ordering the dragon to retract the dragon flame.

When Vormithor heard the shout, a trace of recollection flashed across his copper-bright vertical pupils, and he really closed his dragon mouth.

The thick and long neck turned back and continued to crawl towards the cave.

It smelled a familiar smell, the same as the previous owner, and there was a weak connection between them by blood.

If it were someone else, he would have turned into a charcoal long ago.

The attack did not come, Aemon's heart was pounding, and his mind was still clear.

He was at the end of the dragon's back, enduring the severe pain in his hands and feet, and staggered to the middle of the back.

Riding on the dragon's back without being attacked was already half the battle.

As long as he could control the dragon to fly, this dragon would be his.

Outside Dragon Mountain.

The moon was bright and the stars were sparse, and a layer of silver frost fell on the ground.

"Hiss--"

Suddenly, a roar as loud as thunder was heard, echoing through the silent night sky.

A huge creature with bronze scales all over its body and brown wing membranes stood on Dragon Mountain and dived down with the help of inertia.

In an instant, the wind was howling.

Aemon lay on the dragon's back, his silver hair and black robe fluttering.

His face was trembling in the wind, and he couldn't open his eyes at all.

Vormithor didn't care, and when he fell to the middle of the mountain, he spread a pair of broad brown wings.

In an instant, the wind blew.

"Ah!!"

Aemon was terrified and couldn't help but scream.

No wonder he screamed.

Just now, the giant dragon under him soared into the air, making him experience what it means to be truly weightless.

Vormithor flapped his wings and flew high, showing off his strong physique.

"Fly!"

Aemon closed his eyes and screamed, making the storm more violent.

The fact is as he wished.

Vormithor is huge and a little clumsy when crawling, but when it flies, it shows its strength.

With a light flap of its wings, it has already soared a hundred meters away.

Its speed is not inferior to any dragon.

Aemon gritted his teeth, but the harsh conditions made it difficult for him to persist.

Vormithor is a masterless dragon and has been sleeping in Dragon Mountain for more than a few years.

During this period, it burned the dragon saddle on its back and did not have the normal dragon riding equipment.

What's even more difficult is that

its bronze scales are thick and smooth, and there are no dorsal scales on its neck and tail, and there is not even a place to grab.

"Vormithor, fly!"

Aemon's hands were stinging, and he shouted with all his strength.

The dragon flew higher and higher, as if it was going to rush to the moon.

Aemon couldn't bear it anymore, and barely opened his eyes, and saw a pair of small hands with blood flowing.

Both hands clasped the bronze scales, and the fingertips had been torn by the wind pressure.

This is still the effect of [Solid as a Rock], otherwise the fingers would be broken.

Boom!

Vormithor flapped its wings again, and the height exceeded the towering Dragon Mountain.

Aemon's fingertips clasped the scales, and his whole body was suspended directly in the air, swaying in the wind like a straw.

This can't be like this, he will die.

Aemon's brain crashed for a moment, and many self-rescue strategies surged in his mind.

At the critical moment.

His right hand suddenly loosened, and the dragon claw dagger slipped out of the sleeve and clenched in the palm.

Clang!

Aemon swung the dagger, and the curved tip pierced into the gap between the scales and got stuck there.

Suddenly, the feeling of weightlessness was relieved.

Aemon followed suit, and the dragon tooth dagger slipped out of the sleeve of his left hand and pierced into the gap between the scales again.

The two daggers were like the handles of a dragon saddle, giving him a foothold.

"Hiss--"

Vormithor roared, and the stabbing pain on his back angered him. His body stopped rising and turned to soaring.

Finally, Aemon fell from the suspended state, and his belly hit the dragon's back.

"Huhu, I'm not dead yet."

Aemon panted and hurriedly adjusted his position to make himself sit as much as possible.

He really suffered a great loss.

It's fatal for a dragon without a saddle.

Vormithor continued to soar, and the ferocious dragon head broke through the wind resistance, like a siege vehicle.

But it was bigger than a siege vehicle.

Aemon sat firmly on the dragon's back and had time to look at the whole dragon.

The dragon's horn crown was hideous and dark horny, covering the entire dragon's jaw to the back of the head with a layer of thorn-like barbs.

The bronze scales were extremely thick and hard, comparable to steel plates.

This was a talent born for defense.

A pair of broad brown wings, each flapping to create a strong wind, was twice the size of the body.

And its size.

Aemon took a rough look and saw that it was at least more than 80 meters from head to tail.

When flying in the air, its body blocked the moonlight, which could be said to cover the sky and the earth.

"Hiss--"

Vormithor did not give him more opportunities to get familiar with it. He slightly tilted his wings and turned to fly.

Aemon gritted his teeth secretly and held the dagger tightly.

"Crackling..."

A group of seabirds suddenly flew over and crashed into him.

Aemon was shocked and lay down to avoid these stupid birds.

Boom!

Vormithor flew high enough, and his huge body bypassed the dragon mountain and actually made a head-down dive.

Aemon's body was tense, and the feeling of weightlessness came again.

"Fly!"

He was in unbearable pain all over his body, but he still refused to admit defeat. Only when the dragon obeyed his orders could he be considered tamed.

"Hiss!"

Vormithor dived to the lowest point, his belly scraping past the rocky hillside, and his thick dragon tail smashed large rocks.

It didn't give up, and soared into the sky.

Aemon's brain gradually became numb, and a trace of anger emerged in his heart. He continued to shout: "Fly, Vormithor!"

People choose dragons, and dragons choose masters.

He had no way out, and he had only one way to go.

Vormithor rushed into the sky, his copper-bright vertical pupils flashed coldly, and a hot torrent surged in his chest.

It seemed that he was infected by the spirit of the little thing and was going to say his final farewell.

Boom!

The huge dragon mouth opened, and the copper-bright dragon flames spewed out, turning into a waterfall of flames.

The high temperature burned the air and formed a small vacuum area.

Aemon raised his eyes and saw the dragon flames. The fear of the rolling copper water surged into his heart, and his heart seemed to stop beating.

The next moment.

Adrenaline opened, and the will to survive dispelled the fear.

It's just a psychological shadow. He died so many times in his dreams, but he was not really killed.

In this case, let him break it.

Aemon trembled all over, his unyielding spirit burst out, and he growled: "Come on!"

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