Game of Thrones: Second Son of House Targaryen

Chapter 18: Brother Is Too Cold



Viserys stretched out on the bed, gradually relaxing. The adrenaline from the recent battle still coursed through his veins, making his heart pound and the vivid images of the fight replay in his mind. Sleep didn't come easily. He tossed and turned for nearly half an hour before finally drifting off.

In his dream, Viserys found himself on a dark, undulating sea. The sky was lightening, signaling dawn, but the sea remained dark and turbulent, as if recovering from a storm. Pieces of wood and cargo floated around, and a thin, soaking-wet man clung to a plank.

"Is this a storm?" Viserys wondered, feeling a sense of unexpected fortune. The assassin sent to kill him had encountered a storm en route, a stroke of luck indeed. The man seemed to have been drifting at sea for days, lying listlessly on the broken plank, like a leaf at the mercy of the waves, ready to capsize at any moment.

Suddenly, the assassin sprang to life, his body electrified with energy. Like a predator spotting prey, he lunged forward and caught a one-meter-long lobster. With practiced ease, he took out a dagger and cleaned the lobster, preparing a fresh meal of sashimi within minutes.

"This is unbelievable!" Viserys thought, incredulous. In his previous life, he had seen movies depicting people adrift at sea, struggling to find food and barely surviving. Yet here was the assassin, thriving in such dire circumstances.

But something peculiar caught Viserys's attention. After killing the lobster, the assassin shuddered, as if he had felt the knife's plunge himself. A thought crossed Viserys's mind—could this man be a skinchanger, someone with the ability to control animals?

Just as Viserys was about to delve deeper into his observation, the scene blurred. He felt dizzy, like he hadn't slept for days. The exhaustion forced him to withdraw from the Dragon Dreams state.

"It seems my magic power is insufficient," Viserys realized. Exiting Dragon Dreams, he noted his magic power was less than 1. He hadn't studied magic for two months, leaving his magic power below 10. Passively triggering Dragon Dreams consumed some magic, but like physical strength, it would automatically recover over time.

However, there were no shortcuts to increasing his magic except by allocating points. Braavos, with its many shrines, temples, and the House of Black and White, might hold answers. Perhaps he could find a way to enhance his magic there...

Suddenly, Viserys heard a thumping sound, like someone pounding on a wooden board. Someone was knocking.

He opened his eyes and saw the door had been cracked open, and a bald head pushed in. It was Regis.

“What is it? Is something wrong?” Viserys asked, not bothering to get out of bed.

“You were...sleeping?” Regis asked, somewhat surprised.

“I was just falling asleep,” Viserys replied.

Seeing that Viserys had actually been asleep, Regis was taken aback. He thought to himself, Viserys is incredible. He just killed a dozen people and now he's sleeping!

“Oh, I thought you were injured, so I came in to check on you. Go back to sleep,” Regis said.

Viserys knew Regis meant no harm, so he remained relaxed. He waved his hand dismissively and turned over to go back to sleep. Regis gently closed the door and stepped back out, the admiration in his eyes deepening.

Viserys found the method of tracking through dreams too exhausting. He wanted to continue the dream, but with his magic depleted, he couldn't. He fell asleep almost immediately.

He slept until noon the next day, undisturbed. No one dared to interrupt his peaceful slumber. Regis took it upon himself to watch over him.

That night, the master of the workshop, Morel, was not present due to other matters. However, he learned of the events shortly before dawn and hurried back. He was relieved to see the workshop undamaged.

“M'lord Regis, what happened? Was anyone hurt?” Morel asked, concerned.

Regis glanced at Morel, impressed that his first concern was for the people rather than the workshop. “The attackers were driven back by us, or rather by Lord Viserys.”

“Lord Viserys?” Morel repeated, confused, looking at his equally perplexed son.

He thought, didn’t you say dozens of people came last night? Could Viserys have stopped them all by himself? That half-grown boy?

Whether others believed it or not, Morel and his son were skeptical. Either they heard wrong and there weren’t dozens of attackers, or something extraordinary had happened. After all, wasn’t Regis supposed to be in charge at night? Why did Viserys repel the attackers?

Ignoring the father and son’s doubts, Regis led them to the room where the attackers were held. Inside, there were seven or eight bodies and four or five injured people lying on the floor.

“These are... all...”

The sight of such a tragic scene made Morel turn pale. Regis wondered why the usually composed father and son were now stuttering.

“These are the attackers. They were all killed by Lord Viserys,” Regis said with a hint of pride, as if he had killed them himself. “I’ll leave the rest to you. Lord Viserys is still resting, so don’t disturb him.”

Regis then turned to leave. At this moment, Rabbi suddenly remembered something and hurriedly asked, “Is Lord Viserys injured?”

“No, he’s fine,” Regis replied.

The father and son were stunned. They couldn’t fathom what kind of person they had hired. He had killed a dozen people in one night and emerged unscathed. He was a monster!

Rabbi suddenly remembered what a friend of his, a water dancer, had told him. A master swordsman is very sensitive to the reactions of others. They even notice the slightest facial expression. Rabbi realized that his attitude towards Viserys had been disrespectful. He suddenly felt a pang of fear.

“Should we prepare some gifts for him?” he suggested to his father.

Morel nodded, indicating that he would take care of it.

Helbo learned the news a little later. When he discovered that Viserys had killed more than a dozen people on his own, his reaction was even more exaggerated than Morel and his son’s. He immediately prepared a banquet to honor Viserys and gathered some gifts.

He knew the news would spread quickly. When it did, his own “business” would benefit, and his influence might even expand further. He absolutely could not let such a valuable asset slip away.

As for those who were killed, they were naturally not a problem. It was a serious crime to raid someone’s workshop at night. And he wouldn’t let Viserys take the blame for all these deaths. He could just pin it on someone else. He had done this many times before.

Dany only learned about the incident after hearing Morel’s account. While others were shocked and admired Viserys for killing dozens of people, Dany was terrified. Later, when no one was around, she worriedly checked Viserys' body, relieved only when she was certain he wasn’t injured.


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