The Mushroom Gathering caravan only operated within the royal domain and the Riverlands.
Taking advantage of this trip to the Vale, Rhaegar planned to establish a new trade route—expanding the Mushroom Gathering's influence into the Vale.
Faced with Rhaegar's invitation, Jeyne raised an eyebrow, hesitating slightly.
Rhaenyra noticed her expression and smirked mischievously. "What's wrong? Scared?"
She knew very well that her dear friend was afraid of heights.
Jeyne tilted her chin up and forced a confident tone. "I am the Duchess of the Eyrie. Do you think I would be afraid?"
"How about I carry you?"
Rhaenyra stepped closer.
"Go ahead, bring your dragon."
Putting fear aside, Jeyne exuded confidence.
…
Noon, Guest Room
Rhaegar sat inside a narrow stone chamber, holding a letter delivered by a raven.
"A letter from Tidehead Island. What does it say?"
Rhaenyra, sitting at the edge of the bed, looked slightly concerned.
"Don't worry, it's good news."
Rhaegar handed her the letter, looking satisfied. "Corlys' fleet is stationed at Bloodstone Island. The pirates from the Three Daughters attempted a sneak attack, but just in time, the Stormlands fleet arrived, and together they crushed the pirates, sinking several of their ships."
"The first battle was a resounding victory. We have the advantage."
Rhaenyra smiled, pleased with the success at the Stepstones.
"Exactly. With Corlys securing his foothold there, and reinforcements arriving from across the realm, the Three Daughters stand no chance."
Rhaegar analyzed the battle situation, also considering potential support from the Vale.
Once the wedding at Runestone was over and he secured the fleet from Gulltown, he could begin his return journey.
As for the mountain clans' rebellion—
If Jeyne asked for help, he would use his dragon to intimidate them.
If Yohn Royce could handle it himself, Rhaegar would head straight for the Stepstones.
"Our cousin isn't the most reliable."
Rhaegar suddenly brought up Jeyne.
Rhaenyra tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
"She may be the ruler in name, but for military matters, she still relies on her regent and vassals. I doubt she truly holds enough power."
Rhaegar speculated boldly.
"Jeyne has Yohn Royce supporting her, and the Vale has remained stable for years."
Rhaenyra immediately thought of the seasoned protector of the Vale, who was often away leading campaigns.
Rhaegar shook his head. "Yohn is old. Once he dies, Jeyne will be overwhelmed with trouble."
Yohn had resigned from his position as Lord of Runestone in his prime, and for over twenty years, he had been Jeyne's pillar of support.
At his age, his passing could happen suddenly.
"But isn't that where you come in?"
Rhaenyra pondered. "Jeyne is our blood relative, a staunch supporter of yours. You can't just stand by and watch."
"I will help her—but she also needs to stand on her own."
Rhaegar stretched slightly and said calmly, "Let's see how she handles this Vale rebellion."
Rhaenyra frowned in confusion, studying his expression.
"Shh—listen."
Rhaegar suddenly placed a finger against his lips and gestured toward the narrow window.
Rhaenyra hesitated, then leaned in slightly.
"Do you hear it?"
Rhaegar's voice was mysterious.
"There's a sound?"
Rhaenyra looked skeptical, suspecting he was teasing her.
"It's the sound of Alyssa's Tears."
Rhaegar suddenly pulled her up, pushed open the wooden door, and strode outside. As they walked, he continued, "The Vale has many wonders—Blood Gate, the Giant's Lance—I've seen them all. Now I just need to see Alyssa's Tears."
His strides were quick as he descended the staircase and exited the castle gates.
A loud screech echoed—
The Devourer had been waiting in the castle courtyard, its green, slit-pupiled eyes fixed on the approaching pair.
**Rega helped Rhaenyra climb up the soft ladder, and the two of them sat closely together on the saddle.**
"Let's go, partner!"
"Screech…"
The Hunger shook itself, got up, took a few steps, and then spread its wings, soaring into the sky.
"Rega~"
It was Rhaenyra's first time riding the Hunger, and she nervously and excitedly gripped the reins.
"Don't worry, Syrax is too slow. Let me show you the speed of the Hunger."
Rega sat right next to Rhaenyra, a smile spreading across his face.
Whoosh—
Sensing its rider's intention, the Hunger suddenly sped up, diving down through the clouds, only to rocket upward again moments later.
"Ah!!…"
The saddle on the Hunger's back had no chains, and Rhaenyra couldn't hold onto the reins. Screaming, she clung tightly to Rega.
Rega burst into laughter, standing up from the saddle, and enjoying the sensation of weightlessness against the roaring wind.
He would never fall off the dragon's back.
This was just a little trick to hone the bond between him and the Hunger.
Whoosh…
Moments later, the Hunger flew to the west side of the Giant's Spear.
A massive waterfall appeared before them.
The waterfall cascaded down from a towering mountain peak, the water tumbling down like a flood, with the sound of crashing water reverberating like thunder.
This was the Tears of Alyssa.
Legend says that a woman named Alyssa Erynn witnessed her father, husband, and children all killed before her eyes, yet she shed no tears.
The gods punished her, transforming her into a waterfall after her death.
When the water of the waterfall irrigates the fertile black soil of the valley below, that will be when her indifference is forgiven.
Interestingly, not a single drop of the waterfall's water has ever touched the valley floor.
A visit to the valley—such a beautiful sight should not be wasted.
...
**The Moonlight Mountains.**
Gurgle… gurgle…
A winding mountain path, surrounded by dense forest, was being slowly traversed by a caravan.
The caravan was long, guarded by hundreds of armored soldiers, driving carts loaded with goods.
At the front of the soldiers was a silver-armored, white-robed Iron Guard officer.
"Sir Ilrik, wait a moment."
A soft male voice called out from behind.
Ilrik turned around and cautiously asked, "What's going on, Tormund?"
Behind him, Tormund was leaning against a covered wagon.
Tormund looked puzzled and softly said, "I saw a large group of people hiding along the slope ahead. They have iron weapons and bows."
"How many?"
Ilrik frowned and asked.
"About three hundred," Tormund estimated.
Ilrik's expression turned serious. He called over a large soldier and ordered, "Have the caravan stop. Three hundred people will stay behind, two hundred will follow me."
"Understood!"
The large soldier replied gruffly and then shouted, rallying two hundred tall soldiers.
These soldiers had originally been free people from the Crabclaw Peninsula. Now, they served as dragon guards at Dragonstone, escorting goods to the valley with the White Knight.
Ilrik moved quickly, dismounting and leading two hundred soldiers to spread out into the forest, advancing at full speed.
Meanwhile…
A group of burly men, dressed in animal hides, lay in the dense underbrush, keeping a close watch on the movements at the intersection ahead.
Scouts had reported that a wealthy caravan was entering the Moonlight Mountains, carrying many supplies.
Perfect timing for their poor tribe to make a profit.
They waited for a long time, but no movement came from the intersection.
One one-eyed scout stuck his head out, impatiently saying, "What the hell? Why hasn't that caravan arrived yet?"
Slap—
A large, ugly man appeared and slapped the scout in the face, cursing, "Be patient. If you speak out of turn again, I'll rip your head off and shove it up your ass."
Whoosh—
Before the man could finish his words, an arrow shot out, piercing the one-eyed scout's remaining good eye.
Thwip—
The iron-tipped arrow exited the back of his skull, and the one-eyed scout's face froze in a snarl as he fell to the ground, lifeless.
The burly man was stunned for a moment, then muttered, "Now he's only got his ass left."
(End of Chapter)