Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

"Roar..."

Vermithor let out a roar that could be heard all the way up in the sky. It was a mix of anger and desperation as he tried to get revenge. His massive tail swung with great force, striking Cannibal's abdomen and sending the dragon reeling.

Cannibal, pushed by the blow, quickly got out of the way. But Vermithor was really angry; he shot a bunch of golden flames.

"Cannibal, down!" Rhaegar's voice commanded Cannibal to dive low to evade the flames.

Cannibal plummeted earthward, avoiding the attack.

Seizing the opportunity, Vermithor, despite his injuries, attempted to give chase.

However, the pain from his broken shoulder blade and weakened wings made it difficult for him to keep up, and he started to lose altitude.

"Dracarys!"

Before Vermithor could regain his balance, Rhaegar's command echoed.

With agility, Cannibal circled around the wounded Vermithor, unleashing dragon flames.

Despite his resilience and formidable physique, Vermithor found himself overwhelmed by Cannibal's relentless assault.

As Rhaegar observed the futile struggles of the bronze dragon, a revelation dawned upon him, he often wondered why he lost the last fight.

Besides the fact that he fought Silverwing and Vermithor together.

He realized that the key to victory lay not only in skillful combat but also in exploiting the vulnerabilities of his opponents.

And today, it was Vermithor's swift and grievous injury that spelled his downfall, not Cannibal's.

In particular, after the fight with the shadow wyrm, Rhaegar had a realisation about the essence of combat strategy.

Unless faced with an overwhelmingly difference, relying solely on sheer size would prove futile in avoiding harm or even death.

Dragons are naturally violent and fierce. Once they've used up their fire, they use their claws and fangs in close combat—weapons that are very lethal.

If it hadn't been for Cannibal's quick thinking and Silverwing getting in the way, Rhaegar's situation might have been much worse.

His opponent could have easily killed him by ripping his stomach open and then finishing him off.

With this in mind, Rhaegar decided to use Cannibal's speed and the it's fire as a advantage. He came up with a plan to attack first and surprise his opponent.

Cannibal's unbeatable speed made it the perfect choice for the front line. It just needed to deliver a crushing blow, leaving its opponent vulnerable to the next attack.

"Roar..."

The Cannibal's roars echoed through the sky as it unleashed fire on Vermithor, making the bronze dragon's wounds worse and making it lose composure.

...

Down below, amidst the dragon roars and explosive bursts, the Sheepstealer on the ground started to get restless.

Casting covetous glances at the Silverwing lying in a pool of blood, the scent of it whetted it's appetite.

"Roar..."

Once more, the Sheepstealer spread its wings and soared into the air, its casting a shadow over Syrax. Its aim was to intimidate the latter into retreat.

Rhaenyra looked up at the brown  dragon and her eyes flashed. She gave a firm command, "Dracarys!"

"Roar..."

Syrax waited until the right moment and then shot up, blasting a flames at dragon's face.

The Sheepstealer was caught off guard and awkwardly bobbed its head to avoid the fire, its demeanor transforming into one of aggression.

The Sheepstealer was one of the few untamed dragons that lived on Dragonstone. It had gained a bad reputation among the locals, even worse than the Cannibal.

Despite its menacing countenance, the Cannibal had always maintained a reclusive distance from human settlements, sporadically appearing only in the vicinity of Dragonmont and refraining from causing harm to humans.

The Sheepstealer was the opposite. It had an insatiable appetite for the herders' sheep and loved the thrill of the hunt. Any attempts to stop it from preying were met with dragon flame attacks, which often resulted in serious injuries or even fatalities.

The Sheepstealer was enraged by the sight of the dragon before it.

The Sheepstealer let out a loud roar, spewing an orange-colored dragon flame from its mouth.

The dragon flame was pretty distinctive, kind of like mud dots that spread out over a wide area.

"Move out of the way, Syrax!"

Rhaenyra reacted quickly to the threat and moved Syrax out of the way, then fired a burst of dragon flame back at the enemy.

"Roar..."

In its first battle, the young Syrax seemed to exude a sense of grandeur, roaring loudly as it unleashed a golden dragon flame, which merged with the Sheepstealer's attack and overpowered it.

Frustrated by its inability to overcome the dragon flame attack, the Sheepstealer's fury intensified as it beat its wings vigorously in an attempt to overwhelm Syrax with its size advantage.

However, Syrax, despite being smaller, compensated with remarkable agility, swiftly closing the distance and darting around its adversary with the grace of a seabird.

After a few failed attempts to catch its prey, the Sheepstealer redirected its aggression towards the badly injured Silverwing.

Its predatory instincts were focused on the vulnerable adult dragon, ready to deliver a fatal blow.

"Roar..."

Silverwing let out a terrified roar, its neck injury making it unable to move and defend itself properly. But the Sheepstealer wasn't going to let that stop it. It descended on its target, ready to bite.

"Dracarys!"

Rhaenyra saw Silverwing was in trouble. She wanted to stop the Sheepstealer, urging Syrax to intervene and halt the Sheepstealer's onslaught.

In that moment, Rhaenyra felt a strong sense of worry. With Rhaegar engaged in a fierce aerial duel against Vermithor above, she could only hope for the best for his safety, her heart heavy with concern.

Amidst her anxious thoughts, a deafening roar echoed from above.

A huge bronze dragon came down from the sky, accompanied by green flames.

Vermithor bore the scars of battle, with blood coming out of wounds on his neck, tail, and wings.

With a determined look on his face, Rhaegar steered Cannibal into a steep dive, unleashing a torrent of flames upon Vermithor, pushing him downwards and preventing any chance of retreat.

As they reached mid-air, Rhaegar told Cannibal to stop the attack. Cannibal slowed its descent with controlled wing beats. Vermithor, an expert at aerial combat, used his wings to slow his fall. He fell into the sea with a splash, sending waves out in all directions.

The dragon's crimson blood mixed with the blue ocean, turning the water a dark red. The sea churned and boiled under the heat.

A symphony of bubbles echoed through the waters.

"Roar..."

After a brief struggle, Vermithor's majestic head broke through the surface of the sea, gasping for air.

The waves were pretty wild, and Vermithor was having trouble flapping his wings. He was trying to get to the shore, but his body was hurt, so it was slow going.

Despite all the injuries he had, none of them were fatal. He managed to claw his way back to the beach, where he collapsed and panted, lost in thought.

Rhaegar looked on from above, feeling a mix of relief and contemplation.

Dragons were to be respected, not killed in battle.

He gave Cannibal a pat on the back, his voice full of triumph. "Cannibal, we did it!"

"Roar..."

Cannibal lifted his head proudly, his emerald eyes gleaming with arrogance as he paced back and forth, his sinuous form tracing patterns of victory in the sky with his verdant dragon flame.

At that moment, he was the undisputed ruler of Dragonstone Island. He had defeated Vermithor and Silverwing, and he was now in control of the island.

"Dragonstone Island, your prince has returned!"

Rhaegar's proclamation echoed across the winds, celebrating Cannibal's triumph and the success of their strategy.

But as the celebrations got underway, Rhaegar's gaze shifted towards Rhaenyra, his expression showing a hint of concern.

"Cannibal, let's help!" he said, his voice showing a hint of urgency.