That night, Volantis was anything but peaceful. Just as Dany had finished her bath and was preparing to go downstairs for a late-night snack, the Shadowbinder intercepted her in the hallway, accompanied by a squad of Tiger Cloaks.
In her hand, the Shadowbinder held a brown leather suitcase.
Pulling Dany aside, she explained with a grave expression, "The dragon egg is missing, and the Valyrian steel armor of House Maegaar has also disappeared."
"I didn't steal it," Dany shouted.
She sounded confident and loud, as if it truly had nothing to do with her.
Ignoring Dany's overly defensive reaction, the Shadowbinder nodded and said, "I know. It was the Mother of Dragons. Not only did she steal the dragon egg and Maracho's corpse, but she also raided 15 other Sky Towers. Just in Valyrian steel swords alone, 12 have gone missing. There were also some losses in books and antiques."
Dany had already known about this. In fact, knowing how much loot had been secured tonight was exactly why she was too excited to sleep and wanted to go downstairs for a drink to celebrate.
If not for the sheer volume of stolen goods, leaving no room on Blackfyre's back, the White Knight would have continued his plundering. After all, there were 22 Black Towers within the Black Walls!
The families that owned these Black Towers were all descendants of great Valyrian noble houses. Naturally, they weren't short on Valyrian steel swords—every household within the Black Walls practically had one.
Some families weren't warriors and simply stored their weapons in their towers, letting them gather dust. Others were skilled in combat and carried their ancestral swords with them at all times.
But opportunities like this came only once. If they returned tomorrow night, the Black Dragon would be met with a hail of arrows and siege crossbows.
And even if they managed to force their way into the Black Towers, they would find them completely emptied—cleaner than a pauper's granary.
"So what now?" Dany asked.
"Archon Dofas believes that the Mother of Dragons may have changed her appearance and is hiding in Volantis, possibly even within the Merchant's House, the most crowded district."
The Shadowbinder continued, "So, 5,000 Tiger Cloaks have sealed off this neighborhood, specifically searching for silver-haired, purple-eyed women who have deliberately altered their appearance."
Damn, they're smart. They figured it all out.
But Dany remained completely calm. Before entering Volantis, she had already prepared for the worst. Even during the day, when she was out shopping, Blackfyre had been circling high above in the clouds.
At that very moment, Blackfyre was hovering 500 meters above the rooftops. If anything went wrong, dragonfire would rain down.
Moreover, Dany had an alibi. Everyone in the world understood a simple truth: dragons were intelligent, but their intelligence was limited. If you wanted them to perform intricate tasks—like burning down a Sky Tower—you either needed a rider to command them, or you had to train them for at least a month, like preparing them to drop bombs.
But stealing Maracho's corpse and the dragon egg was pure improvisation—something that couldn't be planned or trained for in advance.
It was like suddenly telling a dragon, "Go to Old Wang's shop and buy me a pack of cigarettes." No matter what, they simply couldn't do it.
Even to the Valyrians, the idea of remotely controlling a dragon was unimaginable.
That was why the Shadowbinder, along with everyone within the Black Walls, was absolutely certain of one thing: Daenerys must have been on the dragon's back at that time.
The late Archon Narciso had even sworn that he personally caught a glimpse of the Mother of Dragons on Blackfyre's back.
And the White Knight was no saint either—he left no survivors during the raid, thanks to Blackfyre's assistance.
"Look at this." The Shadowbinder pulled out a rolled-up parchment from one of the Tiger Cloaks and unfurled it in front of Dany.
It was a painted portrait of a young girl—delicate and charming, with silver hair and violet eyes. She had a small heart-shaped face, finely sculpted features, and a fierce gaze. Her single ponytail draped over her left chest, and she was dressed in a light beige gown.
"Huh? This is supposed to be Daenerys?" Dany exclaimed in surprise. "Where's her massive head? Her ten-foot height and ten-foot waistline? She actually looks a bit like me!"
Other than the sharp gaze, the artist had completely missed the defining features. Or rather, the artist had likely never seen Dany in person and had sketched the portrait based solely on others' descriptions.
It was just like those male protagonists in Neon anime—give them all the same hairstyle and outfit, and they'd be nearly indistinguishable.
"Yes, she looks quite similar to many girls in Volantis," the Shadowbinder remarked casually, rolling up the parchment and handing it back to the Tiger Cloak captain. "I heard that within the Black Walls alone, they've already found 300 noble girls who resemble Daenerys."
"Whether she raided for treasure or simply to teach the people of Volantis a lesson, the Mother of Dragons has achieved her goal. She's definitely long gone by now.
This so-called search is just for show—to give the families of tonight's dead nobles some kind of explanation. After all, quite a few people died."
"Then why are you looking for me?" Dany asked, puzzled.
The Shadowbinder waved a hand at the Tiger Cloaks. "You can wait outside."
Once the guards had left, she turned back to Dany and said, "I came to ask if you'd like to join the Dragon Hatching Sorcerers."
"At this hour? Can't it wait until tomorrow? Besides, the dragon egg is gone. What's the point of hatching anything? You might as well disband and find a new project."
The Shadowbinder shook the leather suitcase in her hand and explained, "Six months ago, I personally took Maracho's invitation letter and brought High Priest Corbett from Qohor to Volantis.
Now, he's been burned to death by dragonfire—his body hasn't even been found.
Out of both duty and personal responsibility, I must go to the Church of the Black Goat and explain the situation to the High Bishop.
Of course, the more important matter is finding a new High Priest to replace Corbett.
As it happens, at dawn, a riverboat named Summer Star is heading north to Qohor, and I'm in a hurry to catch it."
"As for the dragon egg…
Well, it's not like there's only one dragon egg in the world.
Elios has promised me that he will find at least one more in the near future."
Aelios Chihda, that Tiger Party candidate? Are you backing him now?" Dany's expression was odd.
That afternoon, on the western riverbank, the first campaign team she encountered was led by Aelios's son.
The Shadowbinder neither got angry nor felt embarrassed. She simply nodded and said, "He came to me on his own. Aelios is an influential figure, and I had no reason to refuse him."
"His son must be in his late twenties." Dany twitched her lips.
"As long as he's useful." Tam responded indifferently.
"Alright, whatever makes you happy."
"So, are you joining the Dragon Hatching Mage Order or not? If you are, pack your things immediately and come with me to the dock. On the way, I'll personally help you transition into a Shadowbinder."
"To be honest, I'm a bit scared. So many people have died." Fear flickered across Dany's face as she hesitated. "And once it happens the first time, there will be a second, a third... You can't dodge death forever. The risks are too high, and I don't see any rewards. It's just not worth it."
"I see." The Shadowbinder nodded, squatted down, opened a suitcase, and took out a golden silk and redwood box—half a meter long, as thick as a wrist, and square in shape.
She handed the box to Dany and said, "Inside is a glass candle, storing a meditation technique. Try it."
"Tam, you're so thoughtful." Dany said, touched.
"No need to get emotional. It's just a third-level meditation technique. Besides, you saved my life tonight." The Shadowbinder waved her hand dismissively.
"Since you put it that way…" Dany grinned shamelessly. "Why don't you teach me your first-level meditation technique too?"
Tam's teal-colored eyes showed a complicated expression as she sighed lightly. "I practice this meditation technique as well. This glass candle was a gift from my mentor… twenty years ago."
"Uh…" Dany was both moved and embarrassed. She stammered, "Twenty years? I didn't expect you to be that old… You don't look it at all."
Tam, who had just stood up, wobbled slightly and ground her teeth. "Twenty years ago, I was only eight!"
Dany became even more embarrassed and quickly changed the subject. "But your strength isn't weak, is it? Compared to a third-level meditation technique, I mean."
"Meditation techniques aren't set in stone. When your understanding of the world deepens, your meditation runes may change—or evolve, if you will."
"Ten years ago, my meditation technique advanced to the second level."
"That's why you understand why I'm so fixated on dragon hatching, right?"
"If I complete the dragon hatching ritual, my comprehension of magic's mysteries will reach a whole new level. Perhaps my meditation technique will evolve again."
"Can all meditation techniques be upgraded?"
"Other than the Creator, even gods are just a part of this world. Their understanding of truth is incomplete."
A glimmer flashed in Dany's eyes. "But I heard the Valyrian Grand Sorcerers' meditation methods are flawless."
"Indeed, for humans, they are already as perfect as they can be. But is this world made up only of humans?"
"That's true." Dany nodded thoughtfully.
The Valyrians had never been able to cross the boundary between mortals and gods. The full meditation method of the R'hllor priests probably wasn't much different from that of the Grand Sorcerers.
Then, a question struck her. "Why don't you just teach me your current second-level meditation technique?"
Dany didn't believe Tam was deliberately withholding information—after all, she had just given her a glass candle that carried her master's legacy.
"Didn't you understand?" Tam sighed and explained slowly, "My meditation technique advanced because of my personal insights. But can your insights be the same as mine? I can't even be sure if mine are correct."
"If I described the meditation runes within my spiritual sea and you tried to practice them forcefully, not only would you fail to grasp them, but you might even damage your consciousness."
After some thought, Tam crouched down again, opened the suitcase, and took out a black leather book, handing it to Dany. "This is my journal. It can help you understand the extraordinary world and the basics of Shadowbinding. But don't share it with anyone—there are many… things in there. Once you're done reading, burn it."
After the Shadowbinder left, Dany called over a young waiter and asked him to book her a private alcove. While waiting for her meal, she began flipping through the journal.
It was unsettling—like reading a horror story.
For example, Tam once cut open a living person's chest and used their still-writhing organs to sacrifice to an evil god.
The Shadowbinder described it vividly, including her emotions and inner thoughts at the time.
—In a dim, damp basement, a lone candle flickered, its glow casting twisted, snake-like shadows that slithered up the blood-stained altar, slowly creeping into Diko's (the sacrifice's) open chest cavity. His bright red heart first darkened to crimson, then black-red, then pitch black, then ashen gray, until it finally shriveled into a thin layer of gray dust. The shadows let out shrill, gleeful cackles. My whole body trembled—I could barely move. But Diko was still alive. He gazed at me with those deathly pale, bluish-green eyes, his expression filled with both a curse and a plea. I wasn't sure which emotion was stronger. Suddenly, his facial muscles twisted, and from deep within his soul, he let out a wail of pure despair. It was then that I realized—in the moment I lost focus, the writhing shadows had greedily stretched their tendrils toward his pale-blue liver…
"Sir, your pork lung soup is ready."
"Shit!"
Lost in the book's story, Dany jumped three feet in the air.
"Uh…" The serving girl, who had a wine jug tattoo on her face, looked at her blankly and hesitantly repeated, "Sir, your pork lung soup."
Under the dim yellow candlelight, the soup in the white porcelain bowl shimmered with a faint blue glow.
Dany forced out a stiff smile. "Do you have fried grasshoppers? Give me a plate of those instead."
(End of Chapter)
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