"In other words, after my disappearance, not only was there no unrest in the territory, but it actually expanded?" Lynd was momentarily stunned after hearing Baelor Blacktyde's report and spoke in surprise.
"Yes." Baelor nodded. "Half a month ago, when I left Godsgrace Island, I received news that Greenstone Castle and Weeping Town were preparing to sign a defensive alliance with us. By now, they should have already signed. Summerhall is also planning to build a castle in the newly expanded borderlands, and construction should have already begun."
Lynd was silent for a moment before asking, "Do you have a red falcon with you?"
Baelor nodded.
"Use the red falcon to inform Summerhall that I'm fine and that I'm returning to Miracle Harbor," Lynd ordered.
"Yes, my lord." Baelor acknowledged the command and promptly relayed the order for the fleet to return to Miracle Harbor.
The sailors on each ship erupted into cheers. After being out here for more than ten days, exhaustion had long since set in. Even though they would soon hand things over to Dagon's people and return to the Stepstones, they were thrilled at the chance to escort Lynd and visit the bustling Miracle Harbor for some well-deserved leisure.
After issuing the order to set sail, Lynd walked to the ship's railing and summoned the sea dragon through their mental bond.
In moments, the sea dragon, which had been swimming nearby, dove beneath the ship before surfacing, its massive head breaking through the waves.
Though everyone aboard knew that Lynd had tamed the sea dragon and that it had been swimming below, the sheer size of the dragon's head as it emerged still sent a wave of shock through the crew.
The surge caused by the sea dragon's ascent rocked the surrounding ships. The captains bellowed orders, rousing sailors who had been too awestruck to react. Quickly, the crew adjusted their positions on deck, shifting with the tilt of their vessels to stabilize them and prevent capsizing.
"I'm going home," Lynd said, glancing around to confirm no ships were in distress before speaking to the sea dragon through their mental connection. "Are you coming with me, or staying here?"
If it had been Glory, it would have been confused by such a question, uncertain of how to choose. But the sea dragon hesitated only briefly before turning its gaze toward the distant cliffs along the coastline. A flicker of reluctance and resolve gleamed in its eyes before it turned back to Lynd, giving a slight nod and conveying its willingness to follow.
At that moment, Lynd keenly felt how different the sea dragon was from Glory. The distinction was stark—intellectually, the sea dragon far surpassed Glory. Their mental exchanges felt more like conversations with an intelligent adult, whereas Glory's responses were more like those of a child. The sea dragon also exhibited stronger, more complex emotions. Just now, its hesitation and reluctance had been almost human.
This realization made Lynd question the third Dragon Communion Ritual, which had been triggered passively. The sea dragon's behavior clearly exceeded all recorded accounts of draconic intelligence.
Every record he had read described dragons as beasts with limited intellect, capable of following commands in a manner akin to trained hunting dogs or falcons. Even Balerion the Black Dread, a dragon born in the era of Valyria, had never demonstrated extraordinary intelligence.
If even tamed dragons were like that, then for this wild sea dragon to display such keen awareness was even more astonishing.
Moreover, his previous battle with the sea dragon had shown that it originally lacked intelligence. A truly intelligent sea dragon would have incinerated its enemies with Dragonfire from a safe distance rather than resorting to biting. If it had been capable of strategic thought, it would have used Dragonfire to counter Lynd's attacks instead of engaging in close combat. This made Lynd almost certain that the sea dragon's newfound intelligence was linked to the Dragon Communion Ritual. The strong sense of attachment, dependence, and obedience it now displayed toward him likely stemmed from the same source.
"Why did you attack the ships that entered these waters?" Lynd asked, using the opportunity to test the sea dragon's intelligence with a question that required reasoning.
The moment he finished speaking, the sea dragon responded swiftly. Its answer was both thorough and precise: its territory had been invaded, and its food had been taken.
Lynd immediately understood why so many ships had met their demise here, particularly over the past year or two, when sea dragon attacks had become increasingly frequent.
The emergence of Miracle Harbor had led to a booming fishing industry. This region's rich marine life had attracted a growing number of fishing vessels.
For centuries, the sea dragon had lived in these waters and regarded them as its domain. Naturally, it saw the fishing boats' activities as an invasion. At first, it had only attacked fishing boats, its method of attack simple—swallowing both the vessel and its crew whole.
At the time, the occasional disappearance of fishermen at sea did not concern the nobles of Tor Castle and Ghost Hill. To them, the sea was treacherous, and shipwrecks or drownings were simply part of life. As a result, they took no measures to prevent fishing or shipping in the area. This lack of action led to the sea dragon escalating its attacks, indiscriminately targeting all vessels that ventured into its waters—including smuggling ships.
"Don't attack ships so recklessly in the future. I'll make sure you're fed," Lynd said, issuing a clear command.
The sea dragon shook its massive head, rejecting the offer. It made it clear that it would find its own food but also firmly promised that it would no longer attack ships indiscriminately. It would only retaliate against vessels that attacked it or those Lynd designated as targets.
Lynd couldn't help but smile. With the sea dragon on his side, his naval forces would be unstoppable. This also meant he could accelerate his campaign to conquer the Stepstones. There was no longer a need to wait for the remaining ten fortress warships to be completed and outfitted for the Miracle Fleet. As soon as he returned to Summerhall, he could set sail for the Stepstones and bring the islands under his rule.
Suppressing his excitement, he decided to ask the sea dragon a more complex question. "Let me give you a name."
The sea dragon hesitated, its eyes reflecting deep thought as if it was trying to understand what a name meant.
Lynd continued, "How about Cannibal? From now on, I'll call you Cannibal."
Although he had no concrete proof, Lynd suspected that this sea dragon might be Cannibal, the wild dragon that had vanished during the Dance of the Dragons. Regardless of whether the theory was true, he chose to name it as such.
When he introduced the name, he did so not only through their mental bond but also by speaking it aloud in the Common Tongue.
As soon as it heard the name, the sea dragon's scales tightened along its neck. Lynd could sense its approval—it liked the name. A moment later, it nodded in agreement.
By now, the fleet had fully unfurled its sails, and the sailors had dipped their oars into the water. Baelor consulted Lynd before issuing the order to set sail for Miracle Harbor.
Cannibal submerged beneath the waves, gliding through the depths around and beneath the ships. Meanwhile, Lynd maintained his mental connection with the dragon, conducting various tests and exercises.
They experimented with the range of their mental bond and tested Cannibal's speed in the water.
Through these trials, Lynd became even more aware of the stark differences between his bond with Cannibal and his bond with Glory.
The most significant difference was that he could not attach his consciousness to Cannibal and directly control its movements. Unlike Glory, whose vision he could borrow, Cannibal remained fully autonomous. Lynd could only issue commands—it would not act as an extension of his own senses or abilities.
After familiarizing himself with the intricacies of communicating with Cannibal, Lynd concluded the tests. He allowed the dragon to continue patrolling around the fleet while he retreated to the captain's quarters aboard the Nightwalker to check his physical condition.
From the moment he had awakened beside the forbidden lake in the Godsgrace Mountains until now, he had not taken the time to properly assess his own body and understand the effects of this latest passive activation of his abilities and the Dragon Communion Ritual.
Just like after the first two Dragon Communion Rituals, his body had grown significantly stronger. He could tell from the way he had endured Cannibal's tail strike earlier—he had only been momentarily dazed rather than injured. If this had happened before the third Dragon Communion Ritual, he might have suffered serious wounds.
Now, however, his resilience had increased drastically.
Beyond the overall enhancement of his physical abilities, the Dragon Communion Rune in his heart had also strengthened. The most noticeable change was that he could now draw even greater power directly from it.
More importantly, this Dragon Communion Rune energy was no longer limited to channeling into the Banished Knight's Greatsword to enhance the effects of its three Dragon Runes. It could now replicate not only those three but any Dragon Rune. In other words, even if he was without his Banished Knight's Greatsword, he could still wield the powers of Freezing, Storm, and Lightning—albeit at slightly reduced potency and with increased magic consumption.
This development significantly compensated for one of Lynd's greatest weaknesses. Before, losing the Banished Knight's Greatsword meant a drastic decline in his combat power. The difference was akin to that between a god and a mortal.
His previous battle with Cannibal had demonstrated this perfectly. With the Banished Knight's Greatsword, he had easily overpowered the sea dragon, but without it, he had been forced into a purely defensive position.
Beyond this, his body had also gained a new ability from this latest Dragon Communion Ritual. Just as the second ritual had granted him telekinesis, this time, his newfound power manifested as a bloodline trait—one that resembled that of Daenerys Targaryen, the Unburnt.
Testing it, he held his hand over a flame and felt no pain. His skin remained unscathed, no matter how long he exposed it to the fire.
The only uncertainty was the extent of his resistance. How intense a flame could he withstand? While he had a dragon nearby, he wasn't foolish enough to test his limits by having Cannibal breathe Dragonfire on him. Instead, he planned to visit the forge at Summerhall once he returned. There, he could safely measure his tolerance against various levels of heat.
However, something gnawed at him. Despite thoroughly examining his body after the third Dragon Communion Ritual, he had yet to detect any side effects. That in itself was suspicious. Typically, the ritual induced an overwhelming surge of bloodlust, yet he felt little of it now.
This defied all logic. The only explanation was that the side effects were hidden—deeply buried, beyond his current ability to perceive them.
And that was not good news. The more concealed a side effect, the more devastating it would be when it inevitably surfaced.
Still, Lynd did not dwell on this for too long. His focus soon shifted to his cheat, and his lingering doubts turned into something closer to fear—because his cheat had vanished.
Before, whenever he thought about his cheat, a progress bar would appear before his eyes. But now, that bar was gone. All that remained was a single, shadow-shrouded character template.
That meant this was the last character template his cheat would ever grant him.
His cheat had always been his foundation, the rock upon which he had built his power. No matter what challenges lay ahead—even the possibility of facing gods themselves—he had believed that as long as his cheat remained, as long as he could keep accumulating character templates, he would one day wield the strength to kill gods.
Now, seeing his cheat disappear, a wave of unease washed over him. A trace of something he rarely felt—panic.
But he quickly pushed the emotion aside. Right now, what mattered most was discovering who this final character template belonged to.
Though the figure within the template remained shrouded in darkness, making it impossible to discern its identity, Lynd had a strong feeling—whoever had caused the disappearance of his cheat was no ordinary individual.
Bracing himself, he activated the character template.
At that moment, a colossal figure materialized before him.
The being wore a crown over gray hair, clad in resplendent armor, gripping a long-handled polearm. Storms churned around it, dark clouds roiled in the sky, and lightning crackled in violent arcs. The faint silhouettes of dragons flickered in and out of the storm, their forms barely visible within the shadows.
A flood of memories surged into Lynd's mind as the character template solidified.
At the same time, the sky—clear and cloudless mere moments ago—turned dark and tumultuous. Thunder boomed, and the once-calm sea transformed into a raging tempest. Towering waves surged in every direction, whipped up by the violent storm.
Yet, strangely, the waters surrounding the Nightwalker remained eerily still.
Despite the chaos raging beyond, the storm's wrath bypassed the ship entirely. Even the shockwaves of the surging waves, which should have battered the area, instead met each other with uncanny precision, neutralizing their force before they could reach the Nightwalker.
Every vessel in the fleet furled its sails and drew closer to the Nightwalker, their crews staring at the flagship with a mix of awe and reverence. Though they did not understand the exact cause of this unnatural phenomenon, the unnatural calm surrounding the Nightwalker, amid the raging storm, left no doubt—it was linked to Lynd.
Onboard the Nightwalker, every sailor turned their gaze toward the captain's quarters. At the door, Baelor Blacktyde stood frozen in place, not daring to move.
An indescribable aura radiated from the cabin, stretching far beyond the ship and into the depths below.
In the sea beneath them, Cannibal sensed something—something that set off an instinctual fear deep within its being.
A natural enemy.
Without hesitation, the great sea dragon dove, descending as fast as it could. It plummeted toward the seabed, pressing itself flat against the ocean floor, unwilling to move a muscle.