He knew who House Lannister was, including the events that would follow, though his memory wasn't entirely clear on the details.
He also knew that King's Landing currently depended on reinforcements from the Westerlands.
However, the reality was clear: House Lannister had betrayed the Iron Throne, which would be the final straw in the destruction of the Targaryen Dynasty.
Fortunately, House Lyk hadn't captured any deserters from House Lannister, nor had they investigated the identities of the attackers. Ser Jeremy had trusted Ser William's words, believing it was a rebel attack.
And due to the lack of information, Brown Keep hadn't received the latest news from King's Landing.
The silver-haired boy was anxious, but he couldn't reveal anything. The guards outside were, in his eyes, both protection and confinement.
"I must get on a ship and leave before the news breaks."
Viserys watched the merchants and fishermen sail out to sea through the window, a determination hardening within him.
"Meow~"
At that moment, the little black cat, Balerion, let out a meow and then nimbly jumped onto the bed.
Soft paws stepped on the master's brown hair, and then stretched out a small tongue to gently lick Rhaenys's cheek, before curling up and resting beside the little girl.
Viserys's thoughts were slightly interrupted by Balerion's meow. He turned his head to look at Rhaenys, who was fast asleep due to a combination of fear and exhaustion.
Then, he withdrew his gaze, looking at the silver-plated round mirror not far away, pausing for three seconds.
Whoosh~ A cloud of black mist slowly spread out.
[Viserys Targaryen]
Strength (Sun): 5 Constitution (Soil): 6 Agility (Water Drop): 8 Spirit (Moon): 18 "Hmm?"
A young, delicate face appeared in the silver mirror. The body looked a little thin, only about seven or eight years old, with silver-gold hair and a pair of pale purple eyes.
Currently, due to the intense stimulation and lack of sleep, there were some bloodshot streaks.
Viserys frowned slightly, looking at the High Valyrian characters formed by black mist, his gaze falling on the 'Sun' and 'Soil' symbols.
If his previous analysis was correct, they should represent his Strength and Constitution, respectively.
And Viserys remembered very clearly that before leaving King's Landing, the 'Sun' data should have been 3, and the 'Soil' data should have been 5.
"My Strength and Constitution have changed in a short time?"
Viserys was slightly taken aback, not reacting. In his opinion, these data representing his body would only grow with his physical development or exercise.
He couldn't figure out why only he could see this wisp of black mist.
The silver-haired boy stood in front of the mirror, gently rubbing his temples. So much had happened overnight; Viserys was actually very tired.
Even though his 'Moon' attribute was much stronger than others.
However, at this moment, he was still forcing himself to stay alert, wanting to understand the current state of his body. His gaze fell upon the sword placed on the table, the very sword he had used to kill Kevan Lannister.
Ser William had fallen asleep after taking milk of the poppy due to his serious injuries, and he hadn't taken the sword back, leaving it with Viserys.
A half-burned white candle on the wooden table was flickering, gently swaying with the sea breeze that seeped through the window cracks.
The small black cat, lying on the soft silk bedding, opened its emerald green eyes, curiously watching Viserys.
It didn't know what the boy wanted to do.
Then, the boy's shadow, drawing his longsword, was reflected in Balerion's eyes.
Clang—
The chilling gleam of the blade reflected the candlelight, illuminating the entire room. The sword's surface, smooth as water, still bore some uncleaned, mottled bloodstains, which also showed Viserys's face.
"My Strength… seems to have really increased."
A hint of joy was clearly visible in the eyes reflected on the sword.
Viserys felt that this longsword, which had been somewhat heavy for him before, was no longer so taxing. His Strength had increased significantly, silently, without him even noticing, as if it were only natural.
And he pressed his chest with his fingers. Whether it was his imagination or not, even his body seemed to have become more robust.
"What… is the reason?"
The silver-gold-haired boy stood before the mirror, placing the longsword back on the round wooden table, lost in thought.
He carefully recalled the events surrounding his escape from King's Landing. According to his mother, the bad news had arrived the day before everything happened.
The next day, Viserys found out, and he was immediately put on the carriage to escape. His mind was hazy at that time, and he had risked everything to save Rhaenys.
He hadn't done anything out of the ordinary during that time.
Then, on the way to Duskendale, they were attacked by House Lannister. He personally killed Kevan Lannister in that battle.
"Is it because I killed someone?"
The simple journey didn't involve many complicated things, just the creaking of the carriage and the fear and panic of the attack. Then, to survive, he summoned all his courage and fought back.
Viserys wasn't an idiot. He quickly discovered the only difference between this journey and his usual life.
It was that he had killed someone with his own hands.
Thoughts swirled in his mind, and the silver-gold-haired boy stood in place, his eyes, which had been a little bloodshot, becoming increasingly energetic.
If it was really as he thought, then he had discovered a path to enhancement.
He only needed to constantly kill enemies...
...and then he could constantly grow?
Thinking of these things, Viserys's heart began to pound faster. He hadn't understood why only he could see that mysterious black mist.
Now it seemed that it was his 'Golden Finger' for coming to this world?
But why did it choose him?
Was it because of his bloodline? He was a Targaryen.
Viserys's thoughts were expanding, his brain gradually becoming more active. This was the first thing he thought of, the biggest difference between him and others.
The Targaryen's True Dragon Bloodline.
However, he immediately thought that the text displayed within the black mist was all in High Valyrian.
Viserys hesitated slightly.
"Is it because I'm a Targaryen, or because I'm a Valyrian?"
There were many descendants of the Valyrians remaining in this world, but Viserys seemed to be the lucky one.
He sat on the edge of the bed, resting his chin on his elbow, and thought for a long time. However, due to his limited knowledge, he couldn't figure out the reason.
There's no such thing as a free lunch.
Viserys, despite his small frame, possessed wisdom beyond his years, and he knew this very well.
So, when he truly received a gift from the heavens, he seemed overly cautious.
....
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