Facing the hostile gazes of the crowd, Rayder felt a little uneasy.
He knew his actions had aroused everyone's suspicion and dissatisfaction, but he hadn't expected things to escalate to this point.
If not for the fear of the three dragons, the Night's Watch and the Northern soldiers would have long since lost their patience and rushed forward to hack him to pieces.
Rayder actually knew very well that his previous actions had indeed been somewhat excessive.
However, if time could be turned back and he faced the same choice again, he would probably still make the same decision.
After all, there's an old saying: "Better a dead friend than a dead me." At a moment of life and death, one's own life is the most important.
To survive, what did enduring a few cold stares matter?
Just as Rayder had completed his self-counseling and felt he had a clear conscience, Daemon, with his severed arm, had his wound bandaged.
He held Dark Sister—a Valyrian steel sword—and, with an enraged face, pointed at Rayder, roaring:
"I demand a duel with you under the witness of the Seven Gods!"
Rayder had not anticipated that Daemon would be so resentful after he accidentally let Ghidorah break one of his arms.
After all, it wasn't intentional!
Rayder's face showed a hint of awkwardness, and he quickly explained:
"I really didn't mean it then; you just lost an arm. Why be so petty?"
Daemon almost exploded with rage when he heard this.
He cursed inwardly: "It's not your arm that's broken, so of course you can speak so casually! And you want me to be magnanimous? That's simply outrageous!"
Daemon's face was as dark as the sky before a storm, his single eye flickering with sparks of anger, staring at Rayder, his voice low and threatening:
"If you dare not accept, then your reputation as a coward will spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms."
Rayder could tell that Daemon was trying to provoke him into agreeing to a one-on-one duel.
Although he wasn't afraid of Daemon, he wouldn't easily fall for it.
He sneered, his words laced with sarcasm:
"You're already a cripple with only one arm left. Winning against you wouldn't prove anything, and instead, people would say I'm bullying a cripple. How embarrassing."
When Daemon heard Rayder dare to call him a "cripple," the rage in his heart instantly burned to its peak, his face turning crimson as if his hair was about to ignite with fury.
He instantly erupted into a string of obscenities, so foul that those around him couldn't help but turn their heads away, unwilling to listen.
However, Rayder was not the type to take a beating without fighting back or endure insults without retorting.
He immediately retaliated with even sharper words, showing Daemon what 'high-level' cursing was.
He used Daemon's mother as the center, his eighteen generations of ancestors as the radius, and genitalia as the theme, radiating 360 degrees to defile the entire Targaryen Family's family tree.
The sound of their mutual curses echoed in the air, and everyone around was shocked by their vulgar language.
However, Rayder did not stop; he continued to attack Daemon with even more vicious words until Daemon was so choked with rage that he could only glare at him furiously.
Rayder knew that this shouting match wouldn't solve the problem, but he couldn't let Daemon insult him so easily.
He wanted to use words to let Daemon know that he was not to be trifled with.
At the same time, he also secretly warned himself that he knew Daemon would not give up, and he had to be prepared to deal with Daemon's possible revenge; if all else failed, he would kill him.
Rayder's curses grew louder and more strident; he seemed to have lost his sanity, dragging out Targaryen Family members he knew, one after another, and cursing them mercilessly.
Neither the deceased nor the living were spared.
His words were full of insult and aggression, as if he wanted to belittle every person in this family to dust.
And Daemon, who was utterly unable to retort, finally could not bear it any longer.
He furiously ordered Caraxes to attack.
The moment Caraxes spewed Dragon Flame, Daemon suddenly felt a surge of regret.
Because he realized that Rayder on the opposite side was clearly prepared.
Indeed, just as Caraxes's Dragon Flame was released, Rayder immediately gave the order to counterattack.
Im and Aegon's Dragon Flame, like two fierce fire dragons, retaliated with astonishing speed.
At the same time, Ghidorah's attack was as swift as lightning, aiming directly at Daemon on the dragon's back.
This time, Rayder held nothing back; he had the three dragons launch a full-power attack simultaneously.
The Dragon Flame spewed by Caraxes was instantly pushed back by Im and Aegon's Dragon Flame, and the powerful force completely enveloped Caraxes's front half.
The high temperature of the Dragon Flame burned its body, forcing it to turn sideways and retreat to dodge.
And Daemon, upon seeing that golden lightning, reacted almost instinctively.
He quickly rolled over, falling from the dragon saddle on the dragon's back, barely managing to dodge the fatal lightning.
However, even though he successfully avoided his attack, the fear brought by the lightning still left him with lingering trepidation.
He lay sprawled on the dragon's wing, gasping for breath, as if he had just experienced a life-and-death ordeal.
He was completely unaware that the current Rayder had undergone a radical transformation compared to when he first arrived in Westeros, and his mindset had also undergone a huge shift.
After all, Rayder's primary goal in coming to this continent had already been achieved, and the existing dragon combat power had already formed an absolute advantage for the Targaryen Family, enough to completely crush them.
In this situation, Rayder naturally no longer cared about the Targaryen Family's attitude towards him.
Not only that, he had even begun to entertain the idea of directly falling out with the Targaryen Family, and naturally, he could no longer tolerate Daemon being so arrogant and overbearing.
The moment Rayder gave the order, two giant dragons, like arrows released from a bow, pounced forward fiercely. Aegon opened his gaping maw and bit Caraxes's neck tightly, while Im, not to be outdone, bit its right wing.
In an instant, a mournful shriek was heard. Caraxes struggled desperately under the torment of severe pain, but ultimately could not break free from the dragons' restraint, and was finally pressed firmly to the ground, raising dust that obscured the sky.
At that critical moment, Daemon, seeing the unfavorable situation, quickly got up and ran wildly. If his speed had not been just a little bit faster,
He would probably have been directly crushed into a meat patty by the crashing Caraxes, and the kind that would be so flattened on the ground you couldn't even scrape it off.
This breathtaking scene left everyone present dumbfounded, and Rhaenys was even more anxious.
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