"Oh great Lord of Dragons, only your mercy and wisdom are worthy of this sword."
The frail old man struggled to lift the Valyrian steel greatsword, presenting it with both hands.
Judging by the trembling of his upper body, the sword was quite heavy.
With the Valyrian steel greatsword before him, Rhaegar's heart surged with excitement. He dismounted his dragon, leaping onto the deck with a thud.
The scorched deck reeked of blood and smoke. Rhaegar strode toward the frail old man, his gaze burning as he took the sword.
As soon as it was in his hands, Rhaegar paused slightly before exclaiming with delight, "It's actually a greatsword!"
There were many types of swords.
The most common was the hand-and-a-half sword—House Targaryen's ancestral sword, Blackfyre, was a standard example.
Other types included greatswords, longswords, and shortswords.
It was said that House Stark of the North possessed a Valyrian steel greatsword passed down through generations—Ice, a massive blade.
Rhaegar grasped the charred hilt, his eyes scanning the broad blade, his fingers brushing lightly over it.
Though scorched by dragonfire, the blade's surface was only slightly blackened.
The signature rippling patterns of Valyrian steel remained clearly visible, and the material was still of the highest quality.
The wooden hilt was burnt and tattered, and the edges of the blade were dented and chipped, bearing the marks of countless battles.
**"Exploration mission activated: Recover the lost Valyrian steel greatsword."**
As expected, the system's notification sounded, and Rhaegar's lips curled into a grin as he pulled up his system panel.
**[Lost Valyrian Steel Greatsword]**
**Exploration progress: 0.5%**
"Thanks to these pirates, I've gotten my hands on a Valyrian steel greatsword."
Rhaegar gripped the hilt with both hands and tested a few swings—the blade cut through the air with a powerful whoosh.
"It's a bit heavy—might not be ideal for prolonged combat."
Lowering the sword, Rhaegar pondered.
His relic, **Blood of the True Dragon**, granted him physical abilities far beyond ordinary men—his endurance and strength were exceptional.
His current weapon, **Dark Sister**, was originally forged for a woman. Its slender, delicate design was becoming less suited to his growing needs.
This Valyrian steel greatsword, however, was the perfect replacement.
Obtaining both a new sword and an exploration quest, Rhaegar was elated.
He gestured toward the foreign girl and instructed, "Take good care of this girl. If you can't find work, you're welcome to follow me back to King's Landing."
This sword had come to him from this slave ship.
He would do his best to help these homeless, unfortunate souls.
With that, Rhaegar wrapped the greatsword in a piece of coarse cloth and slung it across his back.
**"Screeeech…"**
His dragon, **Glutton**, sensing his intent, descended slightly, offering its soft neck as a ladder for him to climb.
Once he and Rhaenys were airborne, she eyed the sword in his arms with envy. "You really are lucky."
Valyrian steel was a magical relic of Old Valyria.
When the Doom of Valyria struck, the secrets of forging Valyrian steel were lost along with the fallen empire.
Every existing Valyrian steel weapon was now irreplaceable—once lost, there was no making another.
A heavy Valyrian steel greatsword was as valuable as a kingdom's treasure.
"All thanks to you for letting me have it," Rhaegar said sincerely. "With this sword, House Targaryen has gained another ancestral blade."
"The slaves gave the sword to you, not me."
Rhaenys lifted her chin in mock indignation. "Just don't let Corlys see it—he'll be green with envy."
House Velaryon had existed since the days of Old Valyria, though they had only been a minor noble house at the time.
Long ago, House Velaryon had once possessed a Valyrian steel weapon.
It was a curved blade called **Seaflame**.
But it had been lost during a voyage, and since then, House Velaryon had been without a Valyrian steel heirloom.
Among the Valyrian-descended noble houses:
House Targaryen, the dragonlords, had **Blackfyre**, **Dark Sister**, and the little-known **Dragonfang Dagger**.
House Celtigar was rumored to own a **Valyrian steel battle-axe**.
Only House Velaryon had none.
In his youth, **Corlys Velaryon**, the famed **Sea Snake**, had sailed across the world many times, hoping to acquire a Valyrian steel weapon.
But he had never succeeded.
Rhaegar chuckled even more gleefully at Rhaenys's words. "I can't wait to see Lord Corlys's jealous face."
The sword was in his hands now—no one could take it from him.
He had to flaunt it a little, just to make that cunning old man drool.
Rhaenys shook her head with an amused smile, unwilling to entertain her smug nephew any further.
Rhaegar ordered the freed slaves to wait aboard the ship, then turned his dragon and flew back toward **Driftmark** with Rhaenys.
—
The grand feast on **Driftmark** lasted for several days before finally coming to a satisfying conclusion.
One by one, the guests boarded their ships and departed the harbor, returning home well-pleased.
A large ship with a seahorse sail hanging from its mast was docked at the port. Sailors maintained order while laborers loaded supplies.
"Prince, the Stepstones are scattered and disorganized. My family's fleet can only fortify Bloodstone Island—we don't have the resources to cover a larger area."
Standing on the dock, the Sea Snake observed the cargo being loaded onto the ship as he gave his report in a low voice.
Rhaegar stood beside him and acknowledged, "To fully fortify the Stepstones, we would need watchtowers, fleet patrols, and stationed soldiers to guard the strongholds. That's not something House Velaryon can accomplish alone."
The Stepstones had only two large islands: Bloodstone Island and Grey Gallows.
During the last Stepstones campaign, the Kingdom of the Three Daughters' pirates had fortified both islands and avoided direct confrontation, prolonging the war indefinitely.
This time, however, the Three Daughters had not yet seized the islands, making it the perfect opportunity for the kingdom to send troops and reinforce the defenses.
Once he returned to King's Landing, Rhaegar would report everything to his father.
He would push for funds from the royal treasury to fully arm the Stepstones and bring them entirely under the kingdom's protection.
As they spoke, several shirtless veteran shipwrights disembarked from the large vessel, leading their apprentices toward them.
"Lord Corlys, the ship has been thoroughly inspected—everything is in perfect condition," reported a stocky, silver-haired old shipwright with the utmost respect.
The Sea Snake glanced at him before nodding. "You may go, Master Ironhammer."
"Yes, Lord Corlys."
The old shipwright was long accustomed to his lord's prideful demeanor and left with his companions.
Now that they were no longer being disturbed, the Sea Snake resumed his discussion with Rhaegar about the Stepstones' defenses.
"Prince, we must act quickly. The Three Daughters' pirates could invade the Stepstones at any moment."
"We don't have an effective means of defense right now, and we could easily fall into the same situation as the last war."
His analysis was logical and conveyed a deep concern for the war.
Rhaegar listened intently, his gaze sweeping over the port—until, from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the stocky old shipwright.
The man was crouched in front of an orange vendor's stall, haggling with the merchant.
Beside him stood two small figures—two little boys with silver-gold hair and dark skin.
The sight reminded Rhaegar of the many bastard children he had seen on Dragonstone.
As the ancestral seat of House Targaryen, Dragonstone was full of bastards with tangled bloodlines.
He hadn't expected House Velaryon—a family so rooted in tradition and formality—to have so many bastards as well.
(End of Chapter)