Game of Thrones: The Red Dragon Lord

Two days later, five warships, led by the Belleris, set sail toward the Valyria Peninsula.

The summer sea sparkled under the sun, the warm sea breeze gently brushing the sails. The deep blue of the water seemed to blend seamlessly with the sky, and the white clouds reflected on the surface, creating a dreamlike scene.

But as the fleet entered the Sea of Smoke, the landscape shifted dramatically.

The sky darkened, a heavy, oppressive gloom settling over the sea. Dark clouds loomed as though threatening to descend at any moment. The air thickened with an eerie fog, shrouding the surroundings and blurring vision.

The Sea of Smoke—a mysterious and perilous stretch of water.

Records spoke of the catastrophe that befell Valyria hundreds of years ago. The Doomsday Catastrophe was a cataclysmic event that shattered the earth, sending flames soaring into the sky, and boiling magma ravaging everything in its path. It was as though the very world had been swallowed into an endless hell.

On that fateful day, it felt as if the end of the world had come. The Valyria Peninsula, miles wide, erupted simultaneously—ash, smoke, and fire gushing into the sky like violent demons. The flames spread rapidly, even burning the mighty dragons that soared overhead.

The earth trembled violently, fissures opening like the jaws of an abyss, devouring palaces, temples, and bustling towns. Once-glorious lakes turned into steaming pits of acid, and the fourteen volcanic peaks erupted with destructive force, hurling hot lava into the sky as if to ignite the heavens.

Dragon crystals rained down from the red clouds like a deadly storm, their power and mystery carrying a fatal allure. In the north, the land collapsed, and the sea surged, flooding the shattered earth. The disaster tore Valyria apart, leaving countless small islands that were filled with strange smoke, which formed the infamous Sea of Smoke.

The fleet advanced slowly through the Sea of Smoke, eventually halting just before reaching the ruins of Valyria. The Belleris, however, continued deeper into the fog, with the other ships remaining behind to provide support.

As the Belleris ventured further into the mist, the fog grew denser, but glimpses of the ruins of Valyria began to emerge on the shore. The air thickened with a sense of dread, and the atmosphere grew increasingly bleak and eerie.

On both shores, the landscape was filled with decayed remnants. Withered vegetation hung limp on cracked earth. Bubbling acid beaches sizzled with foul-smelling fumes, and the thick fog seemed to weigh down everything, obscuring the path forward.

From time to time, a chilling roar echoed through the mist—terrifying, primal sounds that seemed to emanate from the depths of hell. The roars were low and mournful, like a cry of endless pain, or sharp and piercing, as if warning of imminent danger.

These terrifying sounds cast a heavy shadow over the crew, and fear spread like a plague. Whispers of panic began to spread among the sailors as they sensed the ever-looming threat.

On the second day, the crew began showing signs of illness. Their skin grew pale, their eyes unfocused, and their bodies trembled with weakness. Even the horses in the hold became agitated, one even attacking the crew member feeding it.

Gavin, too, felt the corrosive power in the air—a subtle force gnawing at his body, forcing him to expend magical energy to resist it. Recognizing the severity of the situation, Gavin immediately distributed the potions he had prepared. The magic within them alleviated the crew's symptoms, but the discomfort persisted.

He knew they couldn't linger much longer. If they stayed too long, the potion's effects would wear off, and they'd be unable to resist the miasma's pull.

As they neared the shore, the fog began to lift, and suddenly, without warning, a massive wave surged from the calm sea. A towering, three-meter-tall creature leapt from the water, landing on the deck of the Belleris with terrifying agility.

The creature was massive, covered in a slick, sticky substance. Its claws were long, razor-sharp, and gleamed menacingly in the dim light. Its teeth, like serrated saw blades, were sharp and dense, exuding an aura of death.

With a blood-curdling scream, the monster lunged at the sailors, its claws tearing through flesh and bone. One sailor was ripped to pieces, his blood splattering across the deck, staining it red. The other sailors screamed, panic seizing them as they fled in every direction, their eyes wide with fear.

In the chaos, several Blood Dragon Guards rushed forward, drawing their weapons to face the creature.

But despite their strength, they were initially overwhelmed. Each strike from the creature was like a thunderclap, its speed and ferocity far surpassing that of the Blood Dragon Guards.

Gavin, hearing the commotion, hurried to the deck. He observed the battle from a distance, his heart sinking as he realized the creature's power was far greater than that of his guards. Its movements were fluid, and each attack seemed calculated to kill.

Yet, as the Blood Dragon Guards coordinated their efforts and surrounded the beast, they slowly began to gain the upper hand.

After a brutal struggle, they succeeded in overpowering the monster. With coordinated strikes, they hacked it to pieces, finally ending the threat.

Gavin approached the creature's mangled body, examining it closely.

Its claws were long and sharp, capable of cutting through armor. Its hind legs were thick and muscular, allowing it to stand and attack with brutal force. Its exposed flesh was corroded, the acid from the environment eating away at its skin. Its twisted, hideous face was filled with sharp fangs, a grotesque sight.

Gavin's mind raced. This must be one of the creatures that attacked the previous expedition. It seems the danger is not only from the ruins but also from the sea.

The remainder of the voyage proceeded without further monster attacks, but the crew remained on edge, fear still gripping them as they sailed through the cursed waters.

On the third day, the Belleris finally reached its destination. However, the ship's draft was too deep to get too close to the shore.

Without hesitation, Gavin issued his orders. Leaving a few Blood Dragon Guards to safeguard the ship, he took the rest of the guards and the remaining horses that could be controlled, and rowed toward the shore.

As they approached the ruins, Gavin remained alert. The atmosphere was heavy, oppressive—almost suffocating. The air felt thick with the weight of ancient curses. The twisted trees on the shore seemed to writhe in agony, their limbs gnarled and bent. The crumbling buildings appeared on the verge of collapse, each moment threatening to crumble to dust.

This was a land abandoned by time, cursed by the very catastrophe that had ravaged it. The ruins of Valyria awaited him, and the power it promised.