[Chapter Size: 2900 Words.]
Third Person POV.
North.
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It was still dark over the northern lands as the sun began to rise on the horizon.
Winter looked like a white comet in the sky, reflecting a few rays of sunlight and, given her speed, while there was yet another intruder on her back.
Someone the female dragon sincerely took no pleasure in carrying. But her companion/master insisted that she take her, even with the protests expressed in her roars as she saw the woman approaching, trying to drive her away. Despite the woman's fear, she followed her companion.
She liked no one but her companion and could be tolerable with that white-haired woman, but that was due to the same magical blood her companion had—something that attracted her.
And that blonde woman clearly didn't have it running through her veins. So Winter didn't like her getting close.
It was thanks to her companion's insistence that she finally gave in, in exchange for a fine feast of elk meat—which she very much enjoyed devouring. At the same time, it was rarely caught, as being small animals, they were hard to hunt and, generally, it was just one bite and done. But her companion promised many of them, and she tolerated.
Making this exception, even if she felt uncomfortable, they departed before the sun rose. Even though Winter would have preferred having that other human on her back. And hearing the screams of the human didn't help either.
In any case, they had been flying for a few hours to the south, while Winter felt her mind being invaded a few times so her companion could see through her sharp eyes, looking for their enemies.
It didn't take long for him to find them, spotting a camp of humans when Moat Cailin came into view.
That was when Daemon smiled on her back, while holding Val tightly against his body so she wouldn't fall more than necessary.
The girl was quite terrified by the experience of flying since they left Dustin territory.
Despite calming a bit after some time in the air, her body was still tense with fear and nervousness. But she kept trying to get used to the new experience, full of adrenaline.
Daemon had finally found his target.
He located the Bolton group while they were already very close to Moat Cailin.
The dragon kept circling the sky while Daemon began analyzing the situation, seeing what was the best decision to make. He couldn't just face them alone with Val at his side—not against two thousand men. So, he would have to act with Winter.
"You better hold on," Daemon said, while Val looked at him in surprise. He hadn't said those words at any moment during the trip.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked, but barely had time to get an answer from Daemon before the dragon simply began plummeting from the sky.
Surprised, she felt her heart rise to her throat, ready to explode.
"Ahhh!"
Daemon ignored the blonde's scream, and the dragon increased its speed, soaring through the skies while he merely murmured to the head above the massive neck in front of him, not needing to raise his voice for the command in the ancient tongue and simply said calmly,
"Let's begin by announcing our presence."
Daemon said, as Winter opened her mouth and the roar thundered through the sky, catching everyone in the camp by surprise, like ants quickly fleeing from their nests.
When they pointed to the sky, frightened screams echoed. Even the campfires scattered throughout the encampment recoiled with the roar, along with the flayed men's banners, fluttering.
Everyone began to run at the sight of the beast coming from the sky, before Winter quickly spread her wings, made a sharp turn in the air, and glided close to the camp, before starting to spit white flames into its center.
Val believed her bones would shatter due to the harsh movements of that maneuver at such speed, while all she could feel was the lack of breath, clutching Daemon's arms, thinking she might fall at any moment.
She found herself somewhat regretting having come along. She hadn't expected the flying experience to be truly pleasant, but living it was terrifying.
She tried to calm herself a bit as she began to see the end of the camp, with Winter spitting ice flames in a line;
That's when Daemon saw it and had a better idea of how to end everything quickly. He waited for Winter to reach the last of the tents and begin circling the camp, spitting more white flames the entire time, as they crystallized around the area.
The enemies tried to react immediately to the dragon, but the arrows launched in desperation didn't even hurt Winter, while Daemon raised some shields between them.
Daemon completed a full 360° circle around the camp. His plan was simply to execute everyone there.
The cold front would enter the men's lungs, and they would begin to have seizures, breathing air far below zero and dry, which was definitely not suitable for human lungs.
It was a cruel execution of two thousand men with ease, but Daemon didn't want just that—he was looking to hunt a few of them before they died, knowing they would be somewhere in the middle of the camp.
He was satisfied that now no one else would survive that encampment.
The people of Moat Cailin could see the chaos, after being frightened by the dragon's roar as they looked at the white flames in the distance, seen from the fortress's massive towers.
They also saw the dragon simply flying toward a more distant corner from the first flames, while Winter prepared to land quickly.
Daemon wasted no time and began conjuring alteration spells that gave him master-level resistance to cold.
He did the same for Val, so she wouldn't suffer from the air in the environment.
These spells gave him 95% resistance for a period of time. He just needed to recharge them once they started to wear off, at a slightly high mana cost.
But he was an archmage in conjuration and alteration magic—the schools that most interested him in his journey since he had discovered Winterhold, the College of Magic, and later studied again through the Empire, when he left Skyrim over the years, coming and going.
Daemon had never been very interested in learning destruction, when he already possessed the dragonborn shouts, which were already powerful attacks—or even more powerful—than becoming a destruction mage.
Of course, it would also be interesting to master that school, however, his time was a bit short to try studying new areas.
And he could even learn it, if he were still in Skyrim, which was no longer the case after he came to this world.
Illusion and even Restoration were two schools he also didn't need to give much importance to, when he had Conjuration.
He could summon creatures that did the same thing as a master of Illusion. Maybe not in Restoration, but still, he could heal many things with the right creatures.
In any case, as soon as Winter landed on the ground, Val looked like she was about to vomit.
Daemon gave her a light pat. She didn't even feel her body lose the ability to feel the cold at that moment and didn't know why, since she wasn't paying attention to Daemon or his body glowing, being too scared for that.
He simply grabbed her and, without giving her a chance to protest, jumped off the dragon, landing on the ground with a spell that made him immune to fall damage.
"Listen, we need to act here.
Then we'll return.
People will have difficulty breathing at times, which will make it easier to deal with anyone.
But always stay close to me, because we still have two thousand enemies to face, understand." Daemon said, placing her on the ground.
She seemed to recover and looked at him with a serious expression, nodding at his request.
"Now let's hunt those bastards," Daemon said, pulling the Dark Sister from his inventory in one hand, and in the other, the Leviathan Axe was held, while Val wielded Nightfall.
Daemon used his clairvoyance quickly. A trail of light appeared before them, while the men ran back and forth, horrified at the dragon—so much that they even ignored him and Val.
Winter was there, roaring, instilling fear in anyone who dared try to attack him.
"Come with me," Daemon said, as he followed the white line created by his desire to find Ramsay Snow.
He walked quickly into the camp, spotting a tent larger than the others—the main tent—about two hundred and fifty meters away.
Daemon wore armor with the Targaryen sigil and was, of course, seen by some men, and a group began running toward him.
That's when he threw the axe at one of them, who barely had time to react before being shredded by the blade of the giant axe, which passed through even the body of another behind him, embedding itself.
Meanwhile, the body flew from the impact.
Daemon used the other hand with the Dark Sister to cut off another enemy's hand before moving to his neck, killing him before he could react to the sharp blow.
Val was also facing some enemies at that moment, while Daemon secretly placed a magical shield around her body—better than any strong armor—so she wouldn't get hurt.
But she quickly proved to be quite fierce, not letting anyone get close while she killed three Bolton men.
Another five charged at Daemon at that moment.
He raised a hand, and the axe, embedded in that fallen body several meters from where he was originally, flew back into his hand.
Daemon forced it to glow, creating an ice blade even larger than the axe, and simply launched himself at the group, running through the flames.
Val eliminated the last enemies before looking, shocked, seeing that massive blade spinning and flying through the tents, brutally shredding several enemies at once as they were split in half.
She couldn't stop staring, haunted by Daemon.
"He can't be a human being," she murmured, just like a few times when she saw Jon in action.
Not that it made her like him any less—quite the opposite.
Ygritte seemed insistent in saying Daemon was a god, which encouraged her to repeat that she would be very happy to have his children in the future.
Despite that, he had spoken with them about the matter of children, explaining that he couldn't give them children at that moment, not until he first got the Targaryen girl pregnant.
Not that Val cared much about that, although Lucis and Ygritte seemed a bit upset.
But she knew she would no longer deny him children.
It had even been her who, before, was very afraid of that, back when she was beyond the Wall, due to the dangers they faced at the time.
Now, she was much more willing. Deep down, she had an immense desire to have Daemon's children.
Not that she went around exclaiming and wishing for it like Ygritte did, while Lucis seemed too shy to say anything like that.
Daenerys didn't exactly shout to the seven winds that she wanted children either, but she certainly got very excited when Daemon said she would have his heirs first due to her royal lineage.
A scream nearby pulled Val from her thoughts, not knowing how she had fallen into them, nor how that train of thought fit in the middle of a fight, in an enemy camp.
She smiled while facing another opponent.
What was funny was that only she, Daemon, and a dragon were standing in the middle of the camp, while the men had nowhere to run, surrounded by white flames that were increasingly solidifying the molecules in the air.
She could see the enemies getting slower and slower.
They seemed to have great difficulty breathing, but still advanced.
Val quickly lunged with her Valyrian steel sword—lighter than the one she used to wield—slashing her enemies, while the axe flew behind her, startling her and striking down another enemy who was approaching without her noticing.
Val had to click her tongue for being careless, almost getting hit.
She was lucky Daemon had that weapon that flew and returned to his hand again.
"Val, don't blame yourself. We're in the middle of hundreds of men with only two," Daemon said.
She was about to say that he didn't fit into those standards either.
It was no wonder he seemed very comfortable there, massacring any enemy, no matter the number.
Jon used his axe for long-range attacks and his short sword for close combat.
He was personally making sure to eliminate archers aiming at them or anyone trying to strike her off guard.
They finally moved toward the main tent when they heard a man shouting.
They were warning that he and Val were approaching, while struggling to breathe.
Jon found Ramsay, speaking with his men.
He was covered in bandages, stained with blood, his eyes... he was looking fearfully in all directions of the camp.
He was completely terrified.
The men were listening to his orders, and Val took a better look at the one Daemon had an unusual desire to kill.
She saw him badly wounded.
One leg was fully bandaged, and he held a crutch, which indicated he could no longer walk properly, and half of one arm was missing.
Half of his face was covered in bandages.
He also looked desperate, though maybe not as much as the other man cowering beside him.
But while that man spoke to his soldiers, Daemon was approaching — they didn't even seem to notice the presence of the two.
"Ramsay Snow!" the voice boomed like thunder in that moment.
More than thirty men looked toward Daemon approaching, with Val right behind him, as they all took a step back, frightened.
Even Winter let out a roar, looking at them over the tents — which wasn't very difficult, after all, the beast was so massive that it stood out across the entire camp, with the tents looking like mere tiny things.
Roose Snow raised an eyebrow in surprise upon seeing Daemon.
At the same time, all the men prepared to fight, but they also felt tension and fear.
Daemon didn't waste time and advanced toward the crowd before unleashing an Unrelenting Force Thu'um, thundering like a storm, hurting every nearby ear.
Val, beside him, brought both hands up to cover her ears, knowing what was coming as Daemon already leaned forward to release his Shout.
Everyone in the group was simply blown away and shattered, with some dying instantly.
Ramsay Snow's tent remained standing, and Daemon kept advancing through the terrain, entering the rising cloud of dust, approaching the two.
Nothing was left to stop him now.
Ramsay looked genuinely afraid, stepping backward.
And Reek—or rather, the former Theon Greyjoy—was there, staring at Daemon with extreme fear, seeing all the arrogance he once knew in the halls of Winterfell over a year ago vanish before what Daemon had become.
Daemon looked thoughtful about the new Theon, as if this were the proper fate for him, after committing all his crimes.
Maybe he didn't even need to do much — just staring was enough to make the boy tremble.
A clean execution, Jon thought.
Suddenly, Ramsay broke into a pleasant smile without realizing it.
"He's lying," Val said at his side, never leaving Daemon alone for a second.
Jon, already aware of Ramsay's actions, would never believe him.
"Tell me, Ramsay Snow... did your dogs welcome me well when I entered their minds?" Daemon mocked.
"Remember when I took over the minds of your three dogs while you were fucking that sadistic whore you kept as a lover?" Daemon mocked openly.
That brought a flash of hatred to Ramsay's eyes, unsure if it was from the incident or from being called Snow, just as he was about to say something — but held himself back.
"Please, my king... House Bolton is eager to serve you," he simply said, kneeling with difficulty and begging Daemon for forgiveness, while Daemon found it laughable.
But Daemon simply raised a hand toward him and lifted him about a meter off the ground before slamming him onto his back, not caring about the damage it might cause to his body.
Daemon wasn't looking to give Ramsay an easy end.
As Ramsay wondered where everything had gone wrong, he recalled the moment his own dogs attacked him during that journey.
It hadn't been an easy scene.
The woman was brutally killed in front of him, while he could barely keep the dogs from biting his face.
His legs and arms were mutilated.
After Myranda was killed, one of the dogs lunged at his face, sinking its teeth in.
More than half his face was destroyed.
His men only managed to kill the beasts after quickly slaying all three, but the damage was already done.
Between pain and hatred, his camp had been attacked without any warning that morning, even with the news that the wildling army was advancing into the Dustins' region.
Ramsay believed it wasn't a significant threat.
"I have something special for him," Daemon said, looking at the man on the ground, while his eyes shifted to Theon, who trembled all over at the sight of Ramsay.
"How long has it been, Theon Greyjoy!
Or are you still him?
Now that you've turned into this... thing...
What should I do with you?" Daemon mocked.
Theon kept trembling with fear.
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