GOT King of Dragon

Looking at Sam Kleiber's sincere expression, Rhaegar felt a mix of emotions. 

This man was truly persistent, determined to swear allegiance to him. 

He pondered for a moment. 

If the Forest Witch's notes really contained magical knowledge… 

Not only would the Shadow Creature be dealt with, but he himself might also have the chance to learn some magic. 

After all, who wouldn't want to master strange and mysterious magic? 

Taking a deep breath, Rhaegar solemnly said, "Lord Sam, if the contents of the notes are truly helpful, I will consider your previous request." 

"Yes, my prince." 

Sam's eyes lit up with excitement as he said firmly, "The glory of heroes shines upon you. I have a feeling that you will become the new hero of the Crab Claw Peninsula." 

"Let's hope so." 

Rhaegar gave a faint smile before musing, "The Shadow Creature is growing stronger, and we don't have much time left. The priority is to check the Forest Witch's notes." 

"Lord Sam, time is of the essence. I can ride my dragon back to Whispering Keep. Can you tell me where the notes are kept?" 

Sam didn't hesitate and answered, "They are in the castle's basement. You can ask Yara for help—she knows where they are." 

"Good. I'll depart immediately." 

Determined to deal with the Shadow Creature as soon as possible, Rhaegar ended the discussion. 

After warning Trangel to keep the wildlings outside the walls in check, he mounted Devourer and flew toward the southern coast, heading for Whispering Keep. 

--- 

With Devourer flying at full speed, he arrived safely in just ten minutes. 

The dragon landed before the gates of Whispering Keep, where the guards immediately stepped forward to salute him. 

Sam's children emerged from the castle to greet him, and Rhaegar gave them a brief nod before seeking out the young girl, Yara. 

After explaining his purpose, Yara was momentarily caught off guard. 

However, daughters of the peninsula were not the type to be overly delicate. Without hesitation, she led Rhaegar into the castle's basement. 

The basement was divided into two sections: one well-lit and one shrouded in darkness. 

Passing through the brighter section, they entered the dimly lit area. 

**Click—** 

Yara lit an oil lamp on the wall, and the flickering candlelight illuminated the gloomy surroundings. 

This part of the basement felt particularly eerie. 

It was packed with various goods and chests. 

In one corner, there was a desk… 

Crowded with countless skulls. 

"This is the place, my prince," Yara whispered, stepping forward to light a thick candle on the desk. 

Faced with such a chilling scene, Rhaegar couldn't help but feel uneasy. 

Suppressing his discomfort, he approached the desk and noticed a wooden box placed on top of it. 

Yara retrieved a key from one of the skulls and unlocked the box. 

Inside was a thin, yellowed book. 

Carefully, Yara picked up the book and respectfully handed it to Rhaegar with both hands. 

He reached out and took it. 

The moment his fingers touched it, the soft texture sent a shiver down his spine. 

It wasn't made of ordinary paper—likely parchment of some kind. 

"Let's go outside, my prince," Yara suggested, noticing his dislike for the basement's darkness. 

"Alright, let's go." 

Rhaegar did not refuse. 

--- 

As they walked, he flipped through the Forest Witch's notes. 

The more he read the cramped handwriting, the deeper his frown became. 

The text was indeed written in Valyrian. 

But it was not the refined High Valyrian traditionally used by House Targaryen. 

Instead, it was a mix of various Valyrian dialects, Common Tongue, and even some unknown symbols. 

Fortunately, Rhaegar was proficient in Valyrian. 

He could barely understand about seventy to eighty percent of it. 

Anyone else would likely get a headache after just a few lines. 

**"Natural magic… Flower of Life… The Whisper of the Dead…"** 

By the time he stepped out of the basement, Rhaegar had already finished reading the few pages of the book. 

The notes mainly described three spells and some general knowledge of natural magic. 

Of the three spells, he could only fully understand one— 

The **Whisper of the Dead**, the spell the Forest Witch had used to make severed heads speak. 

The second was a **shapeshifting spell** that allowed humans to control animals. 

However, it required an innate talent, making it impossible for ordinary people to learn. 

The last spell enabled one to **sense nature and hear the voices of plants**. 

This also demanded a high degree of natural magic affinity. 

Mastering the latter two spells would require a vast amount of knowledge in natural magic. 

Even deciphering this book had been a struggle for Rhaegar—actually learning from it would be even harder.

"Fortunately, the Whisper of the Dead is a relatively simple spell. It doesn't require special talent, just rare materials," murmured Rhaegar softly. 

This spell requires a special material—the Flower of Life. 

Using the Flower of Life's immense vitality, it preserves the head from decay while awakening the memories of the deceased through incantations. 

Memories, however, are not the same as consciousness. 

This means that the resurrected head is not the same as the living person it once was. 

It's merely a mindless puppet—a talking automaton devoid of wisdom. 

The Forest Witch often used this method to create numerous puppet heads, interrogating them about their past lives to glean more knowledge. 

"What a despicable spell!" 

Rhaegar frowned deeply, disgusted by the magic. 

What he longed for were the heroic spells described in storybooks—a flaming greatsword, fireballs cast from a staff... 

Or methods to slay shadowy monsters. 

Not this vile magic that steals the memories of the living. 

"No wonder the Academic City shuns magic. This kind of sorcery truly corrupts people," Rhaegar thought bitterly, returning the book to Ayla. 

"Was the content of the notes not to your liking?" Ayla asked. 

"Precious magical knowledge, but not suitable for me," Rhaegar replied, shaking his head. 

Even so, an idea came to his mind. 

The head of the Shadow Binder was still in the fortress of Terror Hollow. 

If he could resurrect it, he might be able to learn how to combat shadowy monsters. 

Rhaegar asked, "Miss Ayla, do you know of the Flower of Life?" 

He had already memorized the spell for the Whisper of the Dead. 

To cast it, the Flower of Life was essential. 

Ayla looked puzzled and then gestured to the family crest hanging prominently on the parlor wall. 

"Your Highness, our family's emblem is also known as the Flower of Life," she said. 

Rhaegar turned to look at the flag and saw the emblem of a Marsh Marigold vividly depicted on it. 

It was a golden flower rooted in swampy muck. 

"So, that's the Flower of Life? I thought it was just an ordinary swamp orchid," Rhaegar remarked in surprise. 

Ayla smiled. "The Marsh Marigold resembles swamp orchids in appearance, but its color and growth environment are vastly different." 

"Some believe that because Marsh Marigolds thrive in mud and decay, they possess immense vitality and unyielding willpower." 

"That's why it's also called the Flower of Life." 

"Where can I find one?" Rhaegar pressed. 

Ayla shook her head. "The Marsh Marigold is incredibly rare. It only grows in Rotting Swamps, and it vanished from the world over a century ago. Most believe it to be extinct." 

"If I ride my dragon to the peninsula's swamps, is there any chance I might find one?" Rhaegar was unwilling to give up on the idea. 

"The peninsula is vast and sparsely populated—half of it is swamp. If you fly your dragon across the marshes, you might uncover what ordinary people could never hope to find," Ayla replied objectively, avoiding outright pessimism. 

"Good. As long as it's not completely extinct, I'll find it," Rhaegar said with confidence in himself and his dragon. 

"Keep the notes safe. The Forest Witch is indeed someone who has mastered natural magic," Rhaegar reminded her kindly. 

---

(End of Chapter)