The brown dragon lay not far from him, its wing broken at an unnatural angle, having fallen somewhere unknown, struggling weakly on the ground, its wounds continuously spurting blood that glowed with hot smoke.
Its black eyes were now dim and lifeless. Arthur's massive body pressed down on it, its immense weight making the ground tremble.
Arthur lowered his head, his body instinctively tearing open the other's neck with his sharp claws, completely ending its resistance.
He had no other thoughts, no deliberation, only instinct.
Then, he began to eat. He tore at the other's flesh, but what he felt in his mouth was not the satisfaction of eating meat or the taste of blood.
With each bite, a pure, warm torrent of energy surged into his body. That warm current washed over his limbs and bones, filling the emptiness that had been constantly draining away.
The feeling of near-death weakness was receding.
He could clearly feel that the life force escaping from him had been curbed. He devoured the other dragon in large gulps, not to sate his hunger, but to become "complete" again.
When he had consumed the last piece of his kin's energy-infused flesh, the brown dragon's corpse had vanished, leaving only some incomplete bones.
And he felt stronger and more replenished than before. The fatal sense of hunger had completely disappeared, replaced by an unprecedented feeling of power, as if he could level an entire mountain range.
He raised his head and let out a satisfied and majestic roar at the blood-red night sky.
The roar shook the heavens and earth, echoing throughout the entire Brightmoon Mountains.
Arthur suddenly sat up in bed, gasping for air, his chest heaving violently as he dry-heaved repeatedly.
What kind of sleep paralysis was this? All his senses were too real: the Fishy smell of dragon blood and raw meat, the burning sensation of dragon blood.
Cold sweat soaked his collar, sticking clammy to his skin. The room was dead silent, save for his heavy breathing and dry heaving.
Was it really just a dream? But the feeling was too real.
He instinctively swallowed, as if the aftertaste of devouring that energy still lingered in his mouth—a taste mixed with sulfur and the essence of life.
His body still seemed to echo with the fear of losing life force, and the ecstasy of power returning at the end.
He held out his hand, examining his palm in the moonlight. His skin was smooth, his knuckles distinct.
These were human hands, yet just moments ago, he clearly remembered these hands as massive claws capable of tearing flesh.
He closed his eyes, the dream's imagery still vivid.
This was too bizarre! Damn it!
All sleepiness vanished. Arthur stood up and began to calm his trembling, dry-heaving body.
He might be the only person in Westeros who had eaten dragon meat. It was terrible, absolutely terrible.
Arthur stood up and walked out of the Lions Den. He needed to feel the wind outside the mountain to clear his head and calm down.
Upon reaching the Lord's Hall, Arthur froze.
Who were these sturdy women? At the first sight of them, his previously chaotic mind instantly cleared. This row of old hags was more refreshing than anything else.
He looked at Lucien and Hakon, who approached him with expectant, even fawning smiles, and Brin, who stood beside them, looking at him with shock.
Lucien and Hakon exchanged glances, then stammered out their well-intentioned explanation.
They described how they had observed Ms. Evelyn, how they had deduced their lord's unique taste, and how they had painstakingly found these candidates who met the criteria.
Arthur listened, his expression unchanged, but his heart was filled with embarrassment.
He finally understood how this massive misunderstanding had come about.
He had intended to scold them for their absurdity, but as the words reached his lips, a thought suddenly emerged.
He re-examined the women before him. Although their appearances were peculiar, their eyes held no flattery or calculation, only simplicity and a hint of hope for the future.
Their palms were rough, their builds sturdy; they were clearly capable workers.
Beautiful women certainly caused trouble and were distracting, disrupting his thoughts, while these indeed were very refreshing…
They instantly jolted him awake from his recent confusion.
Arthur's gaze swept over the nervous women, and suddenly, it stopped on the face of a middle-aged woman.
Her face was weathered, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes like dried riverbeds, but Arthur recognized her.
He had once given food to this desperate woman in Dreadfort.
Arthur spoke, his voice calm: "Old Hake's wife?"
The woman whose name was called trembled, then suddenly looked up, her eyes wide with surprise.
She hadn't expected that Lord Arthur… would actually still remember her.
"Lord Arthur…." The woman's voice choked. She immediately knelt, her forehead pressed against the cold stone slab, sobbing softly.
"Lord Arthur, you still remember me."
"I will never forget anyone who bled and sacrificed for me." Arthur didn't know what to say. You were one of the first few people I met, how could I forget? He replied in silence, "…How are you and Old Hake's children doing?"
The woman looked up, tears already streaming down her face: "Good! All good! Lord Arthur! Even we received the compensation! The children can also eat their fill.
"Our whole family will definitely repay your kindness, my Lord!"
"I… I can even find work in the military fort." She was choked with sobs, repeatedly expressing her gratitude. "You can call me Veil, Lord Arthur."
Arthur nodded, helped her up, then turned his gaze to Lucien and Hakon.
Arthur cleared his throat. Remembering how this group of women had instantly startled him awake from his nightmare and pulled him out of his confusion, he put on a serious face and slowly began to speak in a deliberately profound tone:
"Hmm… You… you've put thought into this."
Lucien and Hakon's eyes instantly lit up.
Brin, meanwhile, stared blankly at the distinctive women, then uncontrollably looked at Arthur's young face.
An absurd and terrifying thought exploded in his mind: So… so this is what Lord Arthur is like?
The image of the strategist and decisive lord in his heart instantly developed a huge crack.
In its place was a new understanding, mixed with awe and strangeness.
He felt that this lord was even more… unfathomable than he had imagined.
Arthur looked at the three's strange expressions and felt it wasn't quite right. Would this spread and make his image strange?
After thinking for a moment, Arthur scanned the women who were holding their breath, then said to his two subordinates, who had an "we understand" expression: "Beautiful women are poison; they will erode one's will."
"They are like flowers in a hothouse, useless except for looking good."
Arthur paused, his tone becoming even more profound.
"And these people… are just right. Seeing them every day can keep me refreshed and constantly remind me to stay sober and not indulge in comfort."
"Remember this! You should do the same!"
"Beautiful women are the most deceitful!"
Brin, standing by, heard Arthur admit it himself, and seeing Lucien and Hakon's "we understand" expressions, felt as if his brain had been violently struck by a battering ram.
With a whoosh, his worldview completely collapsed, then rebuilt itself in a bizarre way from the ruins.
Oh my god! This young lord! Lord Arthur actually likes this kind of taste!
And the reason was so… fresh and unconventional!
His awe for Arthur instantly climbed to a new, even more mysterious and unfathomable height.
This Lord, his realm, is simply beyond the comprehension of us ordinary people.
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