"Split up and fly!" Jacaerys roared.
"Lucerys! Northeast! Break off the flight path! I'll draw them away!"
"Return to Dragonstone! Go tell Mother… tell everyone!"
"Jacaerys! No! We leave together!" Lucerys cried.
"Go! That's an order! Do you want Joffrey to have died for nothing?!"
Jacaerys yanked Vermax sharply, forcing a turn toward the southeast.
At the same time, using every breath left in his lungs, he shouted furiously at the massive shadow above that was rapidly closing in—the shadow of death.
"Aemond! Kinslayer!"
"You bastard! Come on! I'm here!"
"Come kill me! Let's see who dies first!"
His furious shouts and taunts, mixed with the vilest curses, cut clearly through the wind and rain and reached the sky above.
Hearing that impotent rage, Aemond, riding on Vhagar, curled the corner of his mouth in a faint smile.
Killed them, so what? They were only a few bastards.
He raised a hand and pointed at Jacaerys, then made a clear and concise gesture to Lothorne ahead, who was waiting for the next command.
His fingers pressed together, sweeping sideways as he pointed toward the northeast, where Lucerys was fleeing, and he shouted with excitement: "Fly, Lothorne—go kill that bastard."
The order was clear, the roles assigned.
Vhagar would deal with the primary target, while Lothorne eliminated the secondary one, ensuring that none escaped.
Lothorne understood. Without the slightest hesitation—and without even glancing at Jacaerys—its powerful wings beat again. The enormous black body carved a sharp arc through the sky, still stained with unwashed blood, as it rushed in pursuit toward the northeast, where Lucerys and Arrax were fleeing.
Jacaerys would never allow Lothorne to succeed. Commanding Vermax, he shouted: "Vermax!!! Now it's up to you!!"
Vermax spewed dragonfire to block Lothorne's pursuit and began to fly with desperate fury.
Man and dragon burst forth with a posture of utter desperation, forcing even Lothorne, who had already flown past them, to hesitate for a moment.
Then, struck by the flames, the enraged Lothorne turned its head and slashed viciously at Vermax's belly.
Vermax roared in pain, its claws raking toward Lothorne, yet unable to break through those black scales.
Lothorne's claws lashed back at him. The two dragons seemed to dance a dance of death in the sky—circling, tearing, biting, spewing fire at one another, and roaring in fury.
Jacaerys, riding on Vermax's back, was spun violently around, nearly thrown off, and barely managed to dodge the fierce flames in a wretched scramble.
During the clash, Vermax's belly was torn open by Lothorne, leaving a large wound as blood splashed out.
Suddenly, Lothorne kicked the badly wounded Vermax, opening up the distance between them.
Jacaerys and Vermax froze for a moment, and then—Vhagar's dragon claws had already struck over!
Those enormous claws were even larger than Vermax's entire body. They easily seized the whole young dragon, then tightened ever so slightly.
Crack.
Crack…
Vermax let out a roar of agonizing pain. The little dragon's bones were all shattered!
And Jacaerys, seated at the base of the dragon's neck, miraculously did not suffer any direct injury.
Aemond looked at Lucerys, who had already fled ahead, then looked at Vermax, who was giving weak roars from within Vhagar's claws.
Vhagar and Lothorne continued the pursuit, chasing in the direction of Dragonstone, where Lucerys was fleeing.
Held fast in Vhagar's claws, Jacaerys, astride Vermax, had never in his life felt such pure terror.
He listened to Vermax's miserable and helpless screams beneath him while the cold rain lashed madly across his face.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Vermax…" he muttered incoherently, hunched over the dragon's neck.
He could hear his dragon's screams of unbearable pain, yet he could do nothing.
The little dragon Vermax could feel his master's overwhelming fear and grief, and the agony made him cry out in helpless anguish.
"Run! Little brother! Lucerys!" Beneath the dragon claws, Jacaerys looked at Lucerys, who was already being caught up to. By now, they were already nearing Dragonstone.
Riding Arrax, Lucerys looked back in terror at his brother and his dragon.
Held in Vhagar's grip, Vermax's bones had all been shattered, and he had completely lost any ability to resist.
Looking at Lothorne drawing closer and closer, he slapped Arrax's neck in fear. "Run! Arrax!"
Lothorne was so fast that it appeared once again off Arrax's left rear flank.
The distance between them visibly shrank.
Lucerys began guiding Arrax into flight just above the surface of the sea.
He could even hear clearly the heavy, steady breathing of the black dragon behind him, smell the strong fresh scent of blood on its body, and that even more primal aura of a predator.
"No! Don't come closer! Go away!" Lucerys finally turned back and cried out in collapse.
What he saw instead was Lothorne's gaping maw, with scraps of flesh still hanging between its fangs.
And those vertical pupils, burning with a cold golden-red flame even beneath the dim rain-dark sky.
This time, Lothorne seemed to intend a different method.
Perhaps judging the distance sufficient, it did not immediately lunge forward to tear and bite. Instead, it raised its head, and deep within its throat a dark red glow lit up—like molten lava.
Immediately after, a cold yet incomparably clear word of High Valyrian seemed to sound directly beside his ear.
"Dracarys!" Roared personally from above by Aemond.
"ROAR!"
Lothorne suddenly opened its jaws. Dark-red flames—far more condensed and scorching than Vermax's dragonfire, even carrying a thick, viscous quality—tore precisely through the curtain of rain and swept toward the rear of Arrax.
Arrax let out a roar mingled with terror and pain. Instinct drove it to roll in an attempt to evade.
But the flames were too fast.
Smack—sizzle!
The edge of the fire struck hard at the joint where Arrax's right wing met its body. Lothorne's flames brought searing agony—and even worse, a clump of viscous fire splashed onto Lucerys's back!
"AH!!!"
The flesh on Lucerys's back was scorched by the extreme heat, and the unbearable pain forced from him a shriek of utter misery.
The agony seemed to burn directly into his soul, and his vision went black.
Instinctively, he loosened part of the reins, his body swaying violently atop the dragon's back.
His hand slipped.
He slid off the dragon's back and plunged into the sea below.
Because of the wound at the root of its wing—and the fall of its rider—Arrax completely lost control, pitching and spinning violently in the air as its flight path collapsed into chaos.
And Vhagar had already dived down, jaws snapping forward!
Crack!
Crunch…
A burst of blood-mist.
Vhagar chewed, while Arrax was utterly torn apart, its body disintegrating in the sky.
Within Vhagar's claws, Jacaerys roared in despair.
"No!! No!! NO!!!"
A series of sounds followed that chilled the teeth—horrible chewing noises, dull and indescribable impacts: the explosive cracking of bones crushed into powder by overwhelming force, the thick, wet sounds of flesh and organs being squeezed, ruptured, and mashed together.
Afterward, Aemond, guiding Vhagar, destroyed the harbor of Dragonstone. The three warships left behind there were completely annihilated.
The entire small town at the harbor was also easily destroyed by the dragonfire of the two dragons.
Dawn had just broken, and the rain had already stopped.
Aemond returned to King's Landing, bringing with him the captured Jacaerys and Vermax.
Jacaerys knew that he could not escape.
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