Game of Thrones: Second Son of House Targaryen

It was in the early morning hours that Banergar and the others finally regained consciousness under the effects of the paralyzing toxin. This toxin wasn't an anesthetic; it was truly toxic. To verify its strength, Viserys had even personally caught a mouse to test it.

As Banergar came to his senses, he felt as if the earth beneath him was spinning. His internal organs were in complete turmoil, and the taste in his mouth was both fishy and bitter, making him feel nauseous and uncomfortable.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Suddenly, he heard the sound of a knife being sharpened. He opened his eyes and saw a silver-haired youth holding a sword and a whetstone, polishing the blade with great force. Sparks flew from the blade as he worked. Banergar couldn't shake the feeling that the young man before him was not merely the descendant of a fallen kingdom, as the rumors suggested. Instead, he seemed like a demon with blood-sucking fangs, always ready to pounce.

In fact, Banergar's instincts were correct. After nearly ten years of military service, Viserys had seen plenty of blood. And a lot of it.

"Oh, Lord of the Fierce Fish, you're awake," Viserys said with a playful tone.

Banergar, recalling the scene of Viserys killing his men last night, decided to tread carefully. "Danglar, my creditor, ordered me to do it. I can give you some money or pay your debt for you," Banergar said cautiously. He thought it best not to engage in empty talk with the young man in front of him and to offer something tangible instead.

Viserys did not respond immediately. Instead, he pointed at Enghis's corpse and said, "This guy is wanted in Braavos. I don't know what you're doing with him."

Banergar's mouth twitched. He guessed that Viserys was asking for a price. "Then name your price," Banergar tried to put on a smile.

"I want to know who is trying to kill me and my sister," Viserys said, putting down the whetstone and walking up to him.

After two attacks in a row, he needed to know the truth. Although Danglar was Banergar's creditor, Viserys believed he wasn't the one targeting the siblings. From the conversation between Banergar's two sons last night, Viserys suspected there was someone else behind it. Even if he hadn't overheard the conversation, he could have guessed as much.

After all, Viserys had seen the "script." He remembered that the merchant Illyrio, who had arranged a marriage between Dany and the Horselord in the original story, had once said he wanted to marry Dany. But he also thought Dany was too cowardly, so he gave up on the idea. However, in Viserys's opinion, this was nonsense. How could a businessman who valued profit above all else be so unobjective? The only reason was that he thought he couldn't keep Dany. It would only cause trouble!

Illyrio was someone who could negotiate with the Horselord, and he was a cut above Danglar. If Illyrio wouldn't dare to think about Dany, Danglar certainly wouldn't!

So Viserys wanted to get some clues from Banergar. Of course, Banergar denied knowing anything. Although he didn't know the identity of the big shot, he knew that he definitely couldn't afford to provoke him.

“You really don't know?” Viserys asked, his voice laced with menace.

“I really don't know!” Banergar insisted, gritting his teeth. He decided to stand firm. After all, could this young man really kill him? Viserys had already killed two people; if he killed too many, the consequences would be severe. Viserys also had a young sister to think about, so he would likely choose to stop before things got out of hand.

But Viserys simply snickered and pulled out a hemp rope from somewhere. He had tied a long nail to the end of it. Holding it against the throat of one of Banergar's henchmen, he asked again, “You really don't know?”

Banergar felt his tongue go numb, still refusing to believe that Viserys would kill them all. “I really, really don’t know!”

Viserys looked down at the henchman, who was already shaking like a leaf. Without hesitation, he drove the long iron spike into the man’s jaw. With a scream, the spike passed through his jaw and out of his mouth, making the man writhe in agony like a fish on a hook.

“Still don’t know?!” Viserys asked, his voice rising.

Banergar felt the stiffness spreading to his neck, but he still managed to shake his head. Viserys repeated the process, driving the nail through the jaw of another henchman. “Still not remembering?!”

Banergar felt a chill run down his spine. His earlier bravado was gone, and his molars, usually a sign of his menace, now chattered with fear. Viserys grabbed his throat and drove the iron spike through his mouth, eliciting screams of pain that echoed through the neighborhood.

Viserys was frustrated. Banergar’s refusal to divulge any information suggested that whoever was targeting the siblings was powerful. But the fact that this person was hiding meant their reputation was important. If Viserys and his sister were to survive in Braavos, they needed to show they were not to be trifled with.

Viserys strung up the bodies of the living and the dead alike. He noticed someone peeking out from behind a door. It was a water vendor who lived nearby, usually selling sweet water from the Long Canal with a donkey in tow.

“Hey, you, come here!” Viserys called out.

The skinny water vendor was taken aback and pointed at himself in disbelief. “Yes, you. Your donkey. I'd like to borrow it.”

“Okay, okay,” the vendor replied, quickly leading his donkey over.

Viserys took a silver moon coin from his pocket and tossed it to the vendor. “I’ll pay you back tomorrow!”

“Okay, you go ahead,” the vendor stammered, not daring to refuse. A silver moon coin was worth a week's food for a family of five, and also represented two days’ income for him.

Viserys tied the wailing Banergar to the back of the donkey, preparing to take them to the mayor. Braavos was too large for the Sealord, the supreme ruler, to manage every corner of the city personally. When Viserys had first arrived in Braavos, the Sealord had seen some potential in him, meeting with him and even acting as his best man. But now, Viserys had lost much of that favor. Perhaps there was still a bit of affection left, but it wasn’t something to be relied on now.

“Dany, let's go out for a while and come back in the afternoon to sleep!” Viserys called to his sister.

“Oh, okay,” Dany replied, getting up from the bed a little dizzy. She followed Viserys to the mayor’s office.

...

“Oh my God! What am I seeing? Those people, is he the Beggar…” A passerby was about to utter "The Beggar King" but quickly swallowed the words.

There was no mistaking the terror that Viserys inspired at that moment. His clothes were soaked in blood, and he was dragging several people behind him like fish on a line.

“That's Banergar! Oh my God! It's Banergar!” The street was bustling with early morning activity as people began their day. It didn't take long for someone to recognize Banergar, a man with a terrible reputation, now in such a pitiful state. And the young man leading the donkey was clearly responsible for it.

Viserys, leading the donkey, exuded a chilling aura. Dany, sitting on the donkey's back, blushed at the attention they were receiving. Behind the donkey trailed Banergar and his men. Their mouths were pierced by hemp ropes, and they had to support the dead bodies of Enghis and another henchman, all strung up like fish by Viserys.

As they made their way through the streets, the residents of Bitterwell Town parted to make way for the grim-faced teenager. Everywhere he walked, a long trail of blood followed. From that day on, in Bitterwell, the name “Viserys The Fierce Fish-Eater” officially replaced “The Beggar King.”