"Guess when they'll hatch?"
Rhaenyra asked excitedly, gently pinching the child's cheek.
"Don't pinch, or there'll be drool."
Rhaegar stopped his unreliable wife's antics while casually stroking the baby's face.
Soft and chubby—softer than a cream pudding.
Rhaenyra pouted but reluctantly withdrew her hand.
Rhaegar chuckled and thought of a way to make it up to her.
With a flick of his right hand, a glowing halo of light appeared out of thin air.
Rhaenyra stared at him in surprise.
She had always known Rhaegar had many mysterious abilities, but he rarely showed them in front of her.
"I got this from the Celestial Cathedral—a blessing from the Seven Gods," Rhaegar said casually, making sure to hold it up for Rhaenyra to see.
She wanted to touch it but restrained herself, withdrawing her delicate fingers instead. "What does it do?"
No need to guess—it was obviously for the children.
Sure enough, Rhaegar said, "A birth gift for the little ones, bestowing them with certain beneficial blessings."
With that, he reached into the glowing halo with both hands, splitting it in half as if breaking an apple.
A system notification appeared.
[Blessing of the Seven Gods]
- Rarity: Legendary ~ Rare (Blue)
- Effect: +50% Magic Talent ~ Starlight's Blessing
- Description: "A gift of starlight, split in two, nurturing exceptional blessings."
A legendary artifact had been divided into two rare ones.
Holding an apple-sized ball of glowing white light in each hand, Rhaegar had no regrets.
On the contrary, he felt excited.
Artifacts could truly be split apart, transforming into a different form as their level decreased.
Perhaps it worked because the original artifact was of high enough rank and functioned as an adaptive blessing.
While the original effect had been +50% Magic Talent, Starlight's Blessing wasn't a bad trade-off either.
Blessing-type abilities, though usually of lower rank, were always immensely practical.
"Kids, are you ready?"
Rhaegar, entertaining himself, placed the two glowing orbs into the cradles.
Rhaenyra watched nervously, unwilling to miss a single detail when it came to their children.
Buzz—
A flicker of light, and as if sensing their presence, the halos of light burrowed into the babies' round little bellies.
A system notification echoed in Rhaegar's mind.
"Starlight's Blessing activated, effect determination in progress…"
In Rhaegar's vision, three colors—red, white, and green—glowed from the babies' bodies, swirling like a rainbow.
First, the light surrounding the elder son stabilized.
[Reincarnated Warrior]
- Rarity: Rare (Blue)
- Effect: Favored by warriors, naturally gifted in combat.
- Description: "A strong body, agile reflexes… but an age that can't handle the burden."
Before Rhaegar could process it fully, the younger son's glow solidified as well.
[Photographic Memory]
- Rarity: Rare (Blue)
- Effect: Quick-thinking and capable of learning far beyond ordinary people.
- Description: "Don't let him read too many books—unless you want him to hit his rebellious phase early."
"Wow!"
Rhaegar was genuinely amazed. These blessings had essentially laid out the children's future paths.
When he was a child, he had only received Longevity (Green), and Rhaenyra's blessing had been Eternal Beauty (White)—neither of which seemed as extraordinary as Starlight's Blessing.
Of course, blessing-type artifacts always aligned closely with the recipient's needs.
Rhaegar had been born frail, so Longevity had eradicated his health issues.
Now, their two children had received one blessing for strength and one for intelligence—both exceptional talents.
A gleam flashed in Rhaegar's eyes as he looked at his peacefully sleeping elder son, thinking to himself: You have to discipline kids early—once they grow up, they're impossible to handle.
A lesson learned the hard way.
Before the age of ten, Rhaenyra had dominated him, bossed him around, and treated him like a servant.
Only after he grew taller than her did he finally turn the tables, giving her a taste of her own medicine.
Since then, Rhaenyra had never spanked him again.
Soon, the glow faded, and everything returned to normal.
Rhaenyra couldn't see any immediate changes, so she anxiously asked, "Did anything happen? Is it a good outcome?"
"Of course."
Sitting on the edge of a lounge chair, Rhaegar pulled her close, grinning. "They're both blessed children."
Hearing that, Rhaenyra sighed in relief and patted her chest.
Just then, a soft, babyish whimper broke the silence.
Their elder son slowly opened his confused little eyes, waving his tiny hands and wriggling his body.
His legs, wrapped tightly in swaddling cloth, wiggled like a caterpillar.
With great effort, he finally freed his chubby legs.
Then—
Thud!
His right foot kicked out, landing directly on the bronze dragon egg beside him.
The dragon egg wobbled slightly but ended up reddening his tiny foot instead.
"Wahh—"
Determined, the elder son kept trying, his face scrunched up in effort, eventually rolling the dragon egg down near his feet.
He started kicking it back and forth—just like playing with a ball.
Crack!
Suddenly, a crisp cracking sound echoed in the room.
Rhaegar's attention snapped to the cradle, where he saw the baby happily playing with the dragon egg.
"He's awake? And not even crying?"
Rhaegar was surprised.
But—it wasn't this baby.
His gaze shifted to the younger son's cradle.
Unlike his energetic brother, the little one was still fast asleep.
Somehow, his tiny hands had slipped out of the swaddle, and he had rolled over in his sleep, facing outward.
His cheek pressed into the blanket, making his face look like a round, soft peach—pure baby fat.
It was hard to believe that twins born at just eight months had grown so well.
Then, Rhaegar saw what had happened inside the cradle—and instantly leaned in, heart pounding with excitement.
The little one lay on his side, his tiny hands perfectly wrapped around the dark green dragon egg.
A newborn baby and an oval-shaped dragon egg—both were roughly the same size.
The little one seemed to be having a sweet dream. His head rested snugly against the dragon egg, and his tiny mouth opened as if he wanted to take a bite.
Failing to do so, drool trickled down the corner of his mouth, leaving a sticky trail.
"Good thing he didn't bite into it. This dragon egg was excavated from a fossilized pile of dragon dung," Reigar thought to himself.
Crack!
The dark green dragon egg gave a slight tremble, and cracks began to spread across its shell.
"It's hatching?"
Reigar was both surprised and delighted.
"Let me see!"
Rhaenyra perked up, quickly getting off her lounge chair and leaning over the cradle, her eyes fixed intently on the egg.
Crack, crack, crack...
The cracks on the eggshell multiplied, gradually transforming into larger fractures.
Meanwhile, the little one was still holding onto the dragon egg, gnawing at it randomly. At one point, he even stuck out his tiny tongue to lick it.
Reigar and Rhaenyra watched closely, their eyes locked onto the scene without blinking.
"Hisss… gaa..."
Finally, a small, dark green dragon head broke through the shell, releasing its first cry into the world.
Suddenly, something unexpected happened.
The moment the baby dragon emerged, it stumbled and wobbled unsteadily.
"Awoo~"
The little one was persistent. His tiny hands instinctively wrapped around the hatchling, and he opened his mouth wide, sinking his teeth into one of the dragon's wings.
"Hisss gaa!"
The baby dragon let out a sharp, startled screech. It had just been born, only to be attacked immediately. It flailed about, trying to retaliate.
"Stop!"
At the crucial moment, Reigar reacted swiftly, stuffing his hand into the baby dragon's mouth, preventing it from biting back at the newborn child.
"Gaah!"
The dragon gagged, its screech muffled by the sudden intrusion of a fist.
Rhaenyra gasped and, in the fastest motion possible, separated her son and the dragon.
"Waaahhh~~"
Having his "delicious snack" taken away, the little one's dream shattered. His eyes flew open, and he burst into tears.
Both frustrated and scared, Rhaenyra picked up the baby and cradled him in her arms. She undid one side of her gown strap and began nursing him.
As soon as the food reached his mouth, the little one immediately stopped crying. His big, violet eyes gazed up at his mother, shimmering with tears.
Rhaenyra gave his little bottom a light pat and scolded, "You really were hungry, huh? You'll try to eat anything!"
"You can't really blame him," Reigar said with an amused yet complicated expression, attempting to ease the tension.
"Hisss gaa..."
The baby dragon still looked fearful, struggling and letting out weak cries.
Reigar withdrew his hand and gently held the dragon by its wings, pulling it into his embrace. He ran his hand over the small creature's head in a soothing motion.
But it wasn't just simple petting—he discreetly channeled his fire magic, nourishing the baby dragon's body.
The hatchling shivered before gradually relaxing, its tense body going soft. Like a kitten, it allowed itself to be stroked.
"There, be good."
Now, finally, Reigar had the chance to carefully examine the baby dragon's appearance.
This egg had been unearthed from the ruins of House Baeloris, different from the dragon eggs of House Targaryen.
Reigar studied the dragon closely, a hint of disappointment flickering in his eyes.
The young dragon was covered in dark green scales, with black pearl-like horns growing from its head. Its wing membranes were a vibrant, pale red.
At first glance, it looked like moss with two red mushrooms sprouting from it.
Its body shape resembled that of Tessarion and Blizzard during their juvenile stages—normal and ordinary in appearance.
It didn't have the distinctive large skulls of Morgul or Slax.
Nor was it an elongated, snake-like variant like Korraksh.
If anything...
Reigar lightly stroked the dragon's neck, running his fingers all the way to its slightly curled tail tip.
There were no pronounced dorsal scales along the neck or tail—similar to Glutton, Vermithor, and Korraksh.
However, that wasn't particularly unusual, as dorsal scales varied depending on the dragon's traits.
Dreamfyre, Syrax, and Seasmoke all had prominent dorsal spines.
The most intriguing feature of this dragon was probably its tail.
It was slightly longer and more slender than usual, with a subtle curl at the end.
Whether this was due to individual variation or bloodline influence was unclear.
Seeing Reigar examining the dragon from every angle, Rhaenyra curiously asked, "Is there anything different about the dragons of House Baeloris?"
"It's too soon to tell with a hatchling," Reigar replied cautiously, placing the baby dragon in the cradle.
"Hisss gaa..."
The young dragon let out a soft cry, lying pitifully on the blanket as it gazed longingly at him.
Rhaenyra pondered, "With forty dragonlord families living together on Fourteen Flames, even if there were variations among the breeds, they must have interbred over time."
In other words, dragons like Morgul and Korraksh, which displayed stark differences, were hard to classify as distinct bloodlines.
However, a dragon's flame color and form could indicate certain relationships—such as the resemblance between Glutton's and Morgul's fire.
Similarly, the fire of Sheepstealer and Grey Ghost differed significantly from that of Vhagar, Vermithor, and other great dragons.
Reigar still hoped the Baeloris egg would reveal something unique. He smiled and said, "Once the hatchling grows a bit, we can observe its appearance and fire to tell."
"That's up to you," Rhaenyra said with a smile, then added, "This dragon belongs to our little one now."
No one could have expected that on the very day after the baby was born, a dragon egg from House Baeloris would hatch before his eyes.
This egg had been buried for over a hundred years, with an extremely low chance of hatching.
Reigar nodded firmly. "Of course. By the time our little one grows up, the dragon will be a young adult—just right for riding."
The bond between a dragon and its rider was complex, dictated by fate.
For this egg to have survived over a century and still hatch meant it was special.
And for the little one to be the one who awakened it—surely, they were meant for each other.
Rhaenyra's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "I hatched Syrax when I was young. Now, the dragon egg I placed has given birth to a new hatchling!"
She lifted her chin in a playful challenge.
Reigar: ...
He glanced sideways at his eldest son in the cradle. The little fool was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, waving his hands aimlessly.
The bronze dragon egg lay beneath his feet, showing no signs of hatching whatsoever.
Despite having the same parents, how could the difference between them be so vast?
"Could it really be my fault?"
Reigar fell into deep thought.
After all, hatching dragon eggs in a cradle was a rare ability among the Targaryens.
His own childhood dragon egg—black in color—still sat untouched in the Dragonpit.
Surely... hopefully...
This wasn't his fault, right?
(End of Chapter)