Game of Thrones: Second Son of House Targaryen

Chapter 441: The Night King’s Submarine

The Sennesta family had safeguarded forty-seven dragon eggs, their entire reserve. A dragon typically lays only two or three clutches of eggs in its lifetime, with each clutch containing no more than five eggs. The intervals between clutches could span ten to twenty years.

Viserys did the math. Excluding the newly captured purple dragon, the four female dragons in the Sennesta family would lay roughly twenty to thirty eggs over the next two decades—a sluggish pace, but understandable given the rarity of dragons. These weren’t chicken eggs, after all. By the end of his life, Viserys calculated that the House would have at least a hundred dragons, a formidable number.

However, the terms of Sennesta’s allegiance stipulated that they could no longer keep dragons themselves. Any dragon infected with grayscale disease was an exception, belonging to Valsha. This agreement marked only the beginning of a long road toward fully subjugating House Sennesta.

To ensure their loyalty, intermarriage within their house was forbidden, and all female descendants were to marry into the Targaryen family. Viserys intended to leave those marriage arrangements to his sons. While eliminating potential rivals early was prudent, House Sennesta’s knowledge of crafting an enhanced Dragonbone Tower and their extensive collection of Valyrian magical spells made them indispensable allies.

The old adage rang true: Without a powerful family backing you in politics, you’re no match for foreign powers. If Viserys did not take action, his descendants would likely engage in infighting within the next century or two. Allowing House Sennesta to survive and serve as a strategic tool would help slow that decline.

With his ambition extending another eighty or ninety years, Viserys saw House Sennesta as a whetstone for sharpening his blade.

After formalizing their allegiance, he visited their underground fortress. Built during the Valyrian era, the Sennesta dungeon spanned the size of sixteen football fields. It was part of a vast network of underground palaces and facilities known collectively as the Valyrian Dungeon.

The lighting in these dungeons was remarkably advanced, with chandeliers resembling dense constellations controlled by magic to simulate day and night cycles. Though spacious as a refuge, the dungeon was austere and unsuitable for larger-scale habitation or breeding.

Due to resource constraints, House Sennesta had carefully controlled its population. Currently, the house comprised only about 100 members, while the broader "noble class" numbered roughly 1,000. Including commoners and slaves, their total population fell short of 100,000. The devastation caused by rampaging Firewyrms through the Doom Ruins had further shrunk their living space.

Before departing, Viserys made a grim display by hanging the three-headed, five-faced On on a flagpole, leaving it to be devoured by the Blood Wyrms.

Turning to Young Connington, he said, “You’ve always been my right-hand man. I’ve watched you grow, and I entrust the mining of Dragonbone entirely to you.”

As he reached out to adjust Young Connington’s collar, he hesitated, recalling his complaints during their time in Braavos. Instead, he gave him a firm pat on the shoulder.

Young Connington, brimming with excitement at earning Viserys’s trust, stood rigid, muscles taut with anticipation.

“Your Grace can rest assured,” Young Connington said. “All the Dragonbones will be delivered to King’s Landing intact!”

Viserys departed with the army he had brought from Westeros, leaving the remaining forces to continue extracting Dragonbones. Most of House Sennesta’s people boarded warships bound for Westeros, while Viserys flew back to King’s Landing atop a dragon, accompanied by Hali.

Lorarys, the Sennesta matriarch and expert on the "enhanced" Dragonbone Tower, was also transported back to King’s Landing by dragon.

Viserys’s eagerness to return to King’s Landing had been growing. He suspected Sansa’s youngest daughter, Rhae—better known as Rhaelle—was causing trouble again. Though anxious, he tempered his pace to avoid missteps.

After five long days of travel, he finally reached the Narrow Sea.

The Narrow Sea was teeming with ships, the Imperial fleet forming a near-continuous presence across the waters. Their mission was critical: to prevent the White Walkers from breaching the Free Cities aboard ice vessels or bypassing Viserys's coastal defenses to strike the south. While maintaining such a fleet consumed vast resources, the war against the Night King was an existential battle. No one wished to wake to the terror of a White Walker attack in the dead of night.

Though the Night King had remained dormant for half a year, the memory of the previous war in the North loomed large. No one dared to grow complacent. It was now evident that the Long Night was inextricably linked to the Night King himself. The southern skies retained a faint brightness compared to the north's oppressive darkness, offering a glimmer of hope: perhaps killing the Night King would finally banish the eternal night. But the question lingered—what unimaginable power did the Night King wield to shroud the skies and the world in this endless cold?

Flying low over the waves, Viserys scanned the sea aboard Hali, his dragon. Sailors and soldiers aboard the warships below spotted the dragon and knelt in reverence, bowing toward their king. Hali acknowledged them with a resounding roar that echoed over the waters.

“Hali, do you want to rest?” Viserys murmured, patting the dragon’s neck.

Although King’s Landing lay northwest of Valyria, Viserys chose a more circuitous route. He first headed for the Stepstones before turning north, carefully monitoring the sea for any signs of a surprise attack from the Night King.

By his calculations, King’s Landing was still half a day’s journey away. The closest land to him now was Summerhall, the former palace reborn as a new city after the Usurper's War. Following the war, Storm’s End had been demolished, its materials repurposed to construct Summerhall, which had since grown into a bustling settlement with a permanent population nearing 100,000.

“Father, let’s go back early,” a soft voice urged.

“Okay,” Viserys replied, nodding in agreement.

Just as he was about to have Hali increase their speed, Lorarys, seated behind him on the dragon, suddenly exclaimed,
“Your Grace, look! Over there!”

Viserys followed her pointed finger and spotted large, milky-white ice blocks littering the shoreline. From their altitude, they appeared inconspicuous, like natural chunks of drift ice. But as Viserys lowered Hali’s flight path for a closer look, he quickly realized something was amiss.

The ice blocks were enormous, each measuring ten to twenty meters in diameter. Some were so massive they could be described as small icebergs. They seemed to have been swept ashore by the waves, and the sight of them chilled Viserys to the bone.

Turning his gaze toward the sea, he noticed more such ice blocks floating to the surface, their numbers growing. It was an unnatural phenomenon. Just as he considered landing to investigate further, something horrifying occurred.

A humanoid figure emerged from one of the massive ice blocks, its milky-white skin and piercing blue eyes revealing its identity beyond any doubt.

A White Walker.