Daenerys had just managed to steady herself—
But the mont she heard Drogon's inner voice, her emotions nearly surged out of control again.
She had always assud that Drogon knew everything… that he might even have a way to deal with the Dragon Horn.
Yet to her surprise, this was also the first ti he had heard of it.
---
Daenerys had learned about the Dragon Horn long ago from her brother, Viserys Targaryen.
According to him, it was an ancient artifact of House Targaryen, used to control dragons.
But Viserys had also said that the Dragon Horn had disappeared over a century ago, vanishing along with the dragons themselves, never to be seen again.
And yet now—
She was hearing of it once more, from Euron Greyjoy.
Judging by his confident, unbothered deanor, there was a high chance that he either possessed the Dragon Horn… or at least knew where it was.
---
"Looks like you've heard of it," Euron said, reading her reaction with ease.
"As expected of true Targaryen blood."
At the exchange, Daenerys's advisors looked at one another in confusion.
Only Shireen showed a noticeably troubled expression.
Tyrion and the others didn't know exactly what the Dragon Horn was—
But they understood enough to realize it was sothing closely tied to dragons, and judging by Daenerys's reaction, it was nothing good.
---
Whatever horn it is… it won't be able to control .
Sensing Daenerys's anxiety, Drogon gently nudged her cheek, his thoughts carrying a note of reassurance.
In his mind, the so-called Dragon Horn was likely sothing akin to a snake charr's flute—a tool capable of influencing dragons to so degree.
But after his recent transformation, he was no longer an ordinary dragon.
He was confident that sothing designed to control normal dragons might not work on him at all.
And even if it did—
He believed that the mont the Dragon Horn appeared, he would be able to destroy it before it could truly take effect.
---
Hearing Drogon's calm confidence, Daenerys finally steadied herself once more.
Drogon had not only undergone a massive transformation—
He had even evolved into a four-limbed dragon.
Deep down, she found it hard to believe that sothing like the Dragon Horn could truly control him.
She had been montarily startled when Euron ntioned the Dragon Horn, but now that she had ti to think, she realized there was no reason to be so shaken.
"The Dragon Horn disappeared along with the dragons over a hundred years ago," Daenerys said calmly, as if speaking casually. "Have you sohow co across news of it?"
Watching her expression shift so quickly—from alarm to composure—Euron couldn't help but admire her control.
What he didn't know was that Daenerys was no longer particularly worried about the so-called Dragon Horn.
"The ruins of Valyria—the place they call the Doom, the Smoking Sea," Euron said slowly. "I've been there. I ventured into that cursed land… and returned alive."
"And the Dragon Horn," he added with a faint smile, "is sothing I found there."
Daenerys was genuinely surprised.
Even the finest sailors in the world avoided those waters. Almost no one who entered ever returned.
Yet Euron had not only survived—he claid to have brought back a relic long thought lost.
"You are… extraordinarily fortunate," she said.
Euron frowned slightly.
Even after hearing this, she remained calm?
"Does Your Grace still not intend to reconsider?" he asked, his tone sharpening. "Such an arrangent would benefit us both."
"I'm sorry," Daenerys replied evenly. "I have no intention of marrying anyone."
She repeated her decision without hesitation.
Euron's expression darkened instantly.
"So… you don't believe ."
Daenerys t his gaze without fear.
Euron's patience began to wear thin.
"Do you truly think," he said coldly, "that two half-grown dragons and a hatchling are enough to stand against my five hundred warships?"
Behind him, Yara almost laughed.
She had never seen her uncle try to negotiate like this—he usually acted first and spoke later.
And what amused her even more was that Euron, just like she once had, only knew that Daenerys possessed three dragons—but had no idea what those dragons were truly capable of.
Euron looked around and realized sothing unsettling.
No one seed intimidated.
If anything, he caught hints of mockery in their eyes.
For a man who had spent his life feared across the seas—whose re presence made cities pray he would pass them by—this was sothing entirely new.
He had co to bargain.
Instead, he was being dismissed.
---
"If you refuse to leave," Daenerys said, her voice turning cold, "then attack if you wish."
"But if you do, I fear you may not only lose your fleet…"
"…you may lose your life as well."
As queen, she would not yield an inch.
Euron stared at her, jaw tightening.
"You're bold," he said at last, teeth clenched.
Then he turned sharply and ordered his n to withdraw, his ship sailing back toward the fleet.
"Full alert across the city!" Daenerys commanded imdiately.
If war was inevitable, there was no point hesitating.
Though Euron commanded fifty thousand n, and much of her own army consisted of new recruits, she felt no fear.
With Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion, she already possessed the equivalent of an army in themselves.
As for the Dragon Horn…
She could only trust Drogon.
Jorah and the others hadn't expected to face such a massive force before even setting foot in Westeros.
But since the enemy had co to their doorstep, there was only one choice:
Drive them back.
If they faltered now, how could they ever cross the Narrow Sea and claim the Iron Throne?
Within ereen, squads of Unsullied and soldiers moved swiftly through the streets, reinforcing the city's defenses.
Word spread quickly—hundreds of warships had appeared on the horizon.
Yet, contrary to expectations, the city did not descend into chaos.
Even the Unsullied officers tasked with maintaining order found this strange.
Only after listening to the citizens' conversations did they understand why.
It was all because of Drogon.
The mory of his overwhelming presence during the arena attack remained vivid in the minds of those who had witnessed it.
Stories of his terrifying power had spread far and wide.
People now knew that the small black dragon who often perched on the queen's shoulder was no ordinary creature.
He had transford into a four-limbed dragon and, in a matter of monts, slaughtered every mber of the Sons of the Harpy—leaving gaping holes in each of their bodies.
The truth behind Ghis's surrender had also spread.
People learned that Drogon could even withstand massive scorpion bolts without harm.
So when news ca that tens of thousands of enemy soldiers were approaching, the people of ereen did not panic.
As long as the queen's black dragon was there—
They believed no force in the world could take the city.
Even if hundreds of ships filled the sea…
Even if tens of thousands of soldiers ca ashore…
At worst, Drogon would simply fly a little longer—
burn the ships,
and kill the n.
There was nothing to fear.
---
When the Unsullied officers reported the city's calm state, even Daenerys was surprised.
Only after learning the reason did she and her council realize—
Without anyone noticing,
Drogon had already beco sothing more than a weapon.
He had beco ereen's guardian… almost a god in the eyes of its people.
With the city stable and orderly, Daenerys no longer worried about unrest behind her lines.
She turned her full attention to the coming battle.
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