Clang!
Under the red sunset, two longswords clashed violently, sending sparks flying.
The blade of Sir William's already dull sword gained another scar, and he stumbled, nearly falling.
Kevon seized the opportunity. Dragging his broken leg, he lunged, and punched the instructor squarely in the face with his other hand.
Wham!
The man with slightly curled hair was dazed by the blow. Blood filled his mouth, and his teeth were slightly loose. He fell backward onto the ground.
"Die!"
Kevon wanted to seize the opportunity to finish him off, but he was caught off guard. Sir William kicked out, tripping him up and sending him sprawling to the ground. His longsword flew from his grasp.
The two men, covered in blood and mud, wrestled on the ground. The battlefield around them had fallen silent, save for the sounds of their brutal struggle and the faint moans of the dying.
The crimson sunset enveloped the entire road. A gentle breeze swept through, carrying the heavy scent of blood away toward the horizon. Overhead, scavenging birds circled, their cries piercing the air.
No one knew that such a brutal fight had taken place here.
Viserys, who had been holding his longsword, finally saw his chance.
Without harming Sir William, he thrust the blade through the gaps in Kevon Lannister's armor, stabbing him in the back.
"Die!"
Pfft—
The boy with silver-gold hair charged forward, his sword piercing Kevon directly. The tip of the blade passed through the knight's chest without resistance, emerging from the other side. The bright tip was stained red, and blood dripped from it.
This knight from the Lannister Family, a veteran who had fought in the War of the Ninepenny Kings and achieved many victories, never expected to die at the hands of a child.
The corpse then lost all its strength and collapsed to its knees.
Plop—
Viserys also panted as he pulled out his longsword.
What he didn't notice was that after he killed Kevon, a wisp of black smoke, invisible to others, followed his sword and entered his palm from Kevon's body. A warm current spread throughout his body.
The boy, having pulled out his sword, then gasped and slashed at Kevon's neck.
He was afraid he hadn't killed him, and wanted to chop off Kevon's head, but because of his lack of strength, the longsword only went halfway into the corpse's neck.
Blood spilled, staining the earth crimson.
Kevon Lannister was already dead beyond saving.
Thud.
Viserys finally lowered his sword, collapsing onto the ground, his chest heaving.
He had progressed rapidly, from observing the battlefield from afar to personally killing a man; he had to force himself to move.
Sir William, who had been sprawled on the ground after nearly being killed by Kevon's fists, had a battered face and a lisp. He didn't even have the strength to sit up.
"Child, why… why did you do that?"
He stared at Viserys's final, frantic, and brutal act.
The seven-year-old boy not only had the courage to kill an enemy, but he actually wanted to chop off the enemy's head.
The stark contrast of the scene gave him a slight shock, once again refreshing his impression of the second Targaryen prince.
"Whenever a Targaryen is born, the gods toss a coin, deciding whether he will be great or mad."
For a moment, the instructor couldn't tell whether this was the bearing of a hero or a cruel madman.
"I don't know either."
Viserys, panting heavily, sat on the ground, glanced at Kevon's corpse, and saw the emblem revealed under the breastplate. Then he helped the middle-aged instructor up.
"Maybe I was just afraid, afraid of not killing him."
He didn't bother with nonsense about revenge; everyone would know what the Lannister Family would do later, and he was just collecting a small debt for now.
The ladies, who had been hiding in the carriages, disembarked at this moment.
No one blamed them for not coming to help earlier, as their skills wouldn't have been of any use, and might even have been a hindrance.
And then.
The sound of galloping horses echoed from afar once more.
Viserys and Sir William's expressions both changed. However, this time the sound of hooves was coming from the direction they were heading.
The next second.
A group of cavalry bearing banners appeared in their field of vision.
The following day, close to dawn.
The banner of Brownfort flew in the wind, a white diagonal cross on a blue background, along with the crossed war hammers.
Boom—
The gates of Brownfort opened. Lord Riverly Lake, cloaked in black and wearing deerskin gloves, sat atop a tall horse, personally greeting the arrival at the gate.
"Your Majesty, the Queen."
Swish—
Seeing Queen Lyra's carriage arrive, Lord Riverly Lake dismounted, leading his family and retainers to kneel on one knee in a dense mass.
They had received notification from King's Landing and had set out to escort Her Majesty the Queen and the prince to Moongrove City. However, they had not expected to arrive at such a perfect time, catching a few Red Keep Guard deserters and learning of the Queen's encounter with bandits.
Then, Sir Jeremy Lake ordered them to speed up, escorting Queen Lyra and the prince to Brownfort.
And Brownfort was the home of the Lake Family, located on the hills outside of Moongrove City, overlooking the entire city and its harbor.
Sir William was seriously wounded and had been rushed for treatment. After the maester at Brownfort carefully stitched and bandaged his wounds, he drank Milk of the Poppy and was now fast asleep.
Queen Lyra was resting alone in a bedchamber.
Viserys and Rhaenys, the two little ones, were in a room together.
Tap, tap…
With his silver-gold hair slightly curled and cascading over his shoulders, Viserys carried Rhaenys, who was terrified and now sound asleep, back to their bedroom.
For some reason, he felt as though his strength had increased significantly; carrying Rhaenys wasn't very difficult.
Baleryon (Black Cat) had also followed his master. It had survived the fierce battle as well.
Viserys gently laid the little girl on the bed. The candlelight in the bedroom flickered softly, and the sounds of soldiers' armor and patrol footsteps could be heard outside.
"The Lake family, at least for now, does seem loyal."
Viserys was somewhat sleepless, perhaps having experienced too much stimulation. The bloody reality told him that coming to this world was not a good thing.
It was as if he was sinking in a mire, and even living required him to give his all.
The boy climbed onto a stool and leaned against the narrow windowsill of the bedroom, looking at the scenery outside.
Moongrove City and the sea were divided into two halves. The sea in the morning was somewhat quiet, with gentle waves lapping against the reefs.
The salty sea breeze blew in through the window, caressing the boy's face, which was as handsome as a girl's, and lifting his silver-gold hair.
Viserys knew this loyalty wouldn't last long.
....