Chapter 197

The sea returned to calm. Under the scorching energies unleashed by the dragons and Quaithe’s shadow, the packed ink-black clouds had long since fallen as rain, and the sun showed its face.

Warm sunlight should have meant hope, yet everyone’s hearts were bleak; they had never found sunshine so blinding. The crisis seemed to have passed, but the trouble Haixi left for Drogo was clearly endless—until the tally of the dead satisfied both sides enough to rest easy.

Having witnessed a battle beyond human imagining, their shaken spirits would not settle for a long while. At the rear of the host, Finsen was scribbling furiously, recording a history fit to be told for a thousand years—a legend. Of course, vain as he was, he would embroider himself into it.