Game of Thrones: Second Son of House Targaryen

Viserys couldn't recall the name of the person who he had just provoked, but it didn't matter. With lethal precision, he dispatched his enemies.

His Master-level Combat skills allowed him to move with such speed and efficiency that his opponents saw nothing but the cold gleam of his blade. In less than a minute, six or seven men lay dead on the ground.

One particularly unfortunate soul had his head severed, the gruesome trophy rolling to the feet of the instigator. This man, a mercenary named Radmon, had once been a guest at Viserys' banquet.

Radmon was a minor leader, hence why Viserys didn't remember him. He had coarse, flaxen hair slicked back in a style reminiscent of a "wolf's tail," and a missing right eyebrow from an old arrow wound. He had lost his right forearm in battle six months prior, making him unfit for frontline combat, but his experience still made him valuable as a hired hand.

Seeing the beggar king who had sold his mother's crown standing against him and his men, Radmon had assumed Viserys was seeking death. He thought a single knife would be enough to turn Viserys into mincemeat, especially since he remembered him as a lightweight from their previous encounter. Radmon believed he could easily defeat Viserys in just a few moves, even with his handicap. Reality, however, proved him disastrously wrong.

'How is this possible? How can he fight so well?' Radmon's mouth went dry, his saliva stopped flowing—a reaction typical of a rookie soldier facing battle for the first time. He couldn't comprehend how Viserys could be so competent.

Viserys moved with astonishing speed, his figure becoming a blur in the darkness. The attackers, armed with short weapons and burdened with firewood, were taken by surprise. They had to cross the waterway, which further hindered their movements.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, Radmon knew that failure to defeat Viserys meant the failure of their entire operation. He shouted frantically, "Give it everything! Otherwise, none of us will get Lord Andersen's reward!"

Viserys didn't know who this Andersen was, but he silently noted the name. As a cloud passed over the moon, plunging the area into darkness, Viserys seized the opportunity. He dropped his sword, took out his dagger, and began slitting throats with deadly efficiency.

Screams filled the air as Viserys moved like a reaper in the night, his dagger harvesting lives. The attackers, now gripped by terror, swung their knives wildly, even injuring one another in their panic.

Suddenly, two attackers couldn't bear the tense atmosphere any longer. They threw down their weapons, screamed, and jumped into the murky waterway in a desperate bid to escape.

"Don't run! Gather together! Gather together!" Radmon shouted at the top of his lungs, managing to gather a dozen of his men. But the group's morale quickly melted away like ice under a hot sun as they saw a light approaching from a distance.

It was Regis and his team, armed with wooden spears and torches, running at full speed and yelling. The few patrol members Viserys had sent back to deliver the message now had swollen faces—courtesy of Regis. When he heard they had left Viserys alone, he was so shocked that he broke out in a cold sweat, his hair standing on end. He not only rallied everyone around him but also dragged those who were resting out of bed. Even then, they could only muster fewer than twenty people.

Though Regis knew Viserys was very strong, he was still scared that he could handle more than ten attackers at once. Along the way, Regis kept praying, and when they reached the waterway, they could only judge the general direction of the fight by the sounds of splashing water. As the group got closer, they saw the aftermath—wounded and dead bodies littered the ground, and only a silver-haired youth with a fierce aura stood there.

"Lord Viserys?" Regis asked tentatively.

Viserys, still radiating murderous intent, turned his head, causing Regis to shudder. "It's me," Viserys said, trying to calm himself.

"Are you okay?" Regis asked.

"I'm fine. Look around and see if there are any survivors. Deal with them later." Viserys then turned and left.

Regis was shocked by the scene before him—the bodies lying on the ground and the ones still groaning in pain. Although he didn't know how many had escaped, he estimated there had been at least thirty attackers. That meant Viserys had single-handedly stopped an attack by thirty men. This realization made Regis gasp in astonishment.

"This... all of this was done by Lord Viserys?" Regis muttered in disbelief.

"Of course, there's only one Lord here," one of the other team members said, sharing in the awe.

“Oh...” Many of the team members had never seen such a bloody scene before, and the strong smell of blood caused some to vomit uncontrollably. Regis, snapping out of his shock, yelled at the others, “There are dead bodies here. Hurry up and clean this up!”

The team members sprang into action, gathering the bodies scattered on the ground. Regis couldn't help but realize that Viserys was far stronger than he had ever imagined. When Viserys had been teaching him sword skills and training methods, Regis had been skeptical. Crawling on the ground and adopting strange stances seemed pointless to him. But now, seeing the aftermath of Viserys' fight, he believed. If he could someday have even half of Viserys' strength, he would consider himself very fortunate.

...

Meanwhile, back in his room, Viserys began to reflect on the recent battle. The victory had been a combination of favorable conditions and good tactics. The attackers were unprepared, his long weapon gave him an advantage, and the environment worked in his favor. However, he knew that if the circumstances had been different, he could have easily been injured—or worse.

In this era, injuries were particularly dangerous, especially during the long summer when infections were common. Caution was everything.

Viserys opened his panel to check his progress and noticed that his Dragon Dreams skill had improved significantly.

Dragon Dreams: - Ordinary (296/300) +

In the past three months, his proficiency had increased by 20 points. It seemed the skill had just refreshed for the new day. He added the remaining five points to Dragon Dreams, and a strange sensation rippled through his mind.

Dragon Dreams: - Proficient (1/1000) +

For a moment, Viserys felt a clearer perception of future events. Previously, he had only passively perceived impending danger through his dreams. Now, it seemed he could actively predict movements and threats through his dreams.

With some time left before dawn, Viserys decided to test his newfound ability. He recalled the recent dream of a black-clad assassin crossing the sea and focused his mind, hoping to see where the man was now.