Tap, tap, tap... Faint footsteps came from the corridor, followed by a series of urgent knocks. "Your Highness, the King requests your presence!"
Jaime Lannister, clad in the golden armor of the Kingsguard, stood at the doorway, his face drawn, eyes darting, and motionless.
Behind him, a squad of perfectly aligned Gold Cloaks watched him intently, never leaving his side.
Should Jaime Lannister dare to make any untoward move, the Gold Cloaks behind him would hack him to pieces.
"Alas!" He sighed helplessly, lowering his head.
As one of the Kingsguard, he should have been King Aerys Targaryen's most trusted warrior.
Yet, at this moment, he was restless.
Compared to Jaime Lannister's inner turmoil, the silver-haired, violet-eyed child sitting inside the room was even more terrified.
"Damn it, have I transmigrated to become Viserys Targaryen from Game of Thrones, the legendary Beggar King?" Viserys Targaryen forced a bitter smile.
The iron throne at this time was not the once-glorious Targaryen Dynasty; it was more like a frail old man, already in a precarious state, on the verge of collapse.
Compared to the other powers in King's Landing who were uncertain about the future, Prince Viserys was absolutely certain about the impending future.
The downfall of the Targaryen Dynasty was already a foregone conclusion!
"Damn, others screw over their fathers, but you screw over your son!" Viserys cursed inwardly.
His father, of all people, shouldn't have directly forced his great vassals into rebellion!
"Your Highness!" Jaime Lannister glanced at the Gold Cloaks behind him and spoke again.
His voice was low, even trembling slightly from fear.
At the beginning of the war, his father, Tywin Lannister, had remained inactive, causing the King to be wary of him.
Fortunately, the call was exceptionally clear in the quiet, almost deathly silent The Red Keep.
Viserys's body trembled, and he could only stand up reluctantly, his face bitter.
Rhaegar Targaryen's death in battle had already put the entire royal family on edge.
He didn't want to flee to Dragonstone, nor did he want to wander the streets with his sister Daenerys later, becoming a Beggar King!
"Coming!" Viserys took a deep breath and opened the door.
No matter how unwilling he was, he had to accept the ironclad fact that he had transmigrated to become Viserys Targaryen.
If he ran even a little slower, Robert Baratheon would definitely chop off his head and display it on a spear.
"Your Highness!" Jaime's eyelids lifted. He was about to step forward to greet him but was immediately blocked by the drawn swords of the Gold Cloaks behind him.
Jaime's heart skipped a beat, his face changed dramatically, and he hastily retreated several steps.
There was, after all, an unbreakable father-son bond between him and his father, Tywin Lannister, so it was understandable for the royal family to doubt his loyalty.
Viserys Targaryen stared at Ser Jaime in front of him, and soon, a cluster of black characters floated before his eyes:
Jaime Lannister,
Spirit: 30 (Lethargic)
Physique: 70 (Strong)
Agility: 75 (Nimble)
Strength: 70 (Growing)
Magic: 0 (No magic bloodline)
These characters were all constructed from High Valyrian language.
It was said that this was derived from the ancient dragon language, a magic spell specifically used to communicate with dragons.
Every member of the Targaryen Family, from birth, was taught this seemingly almost useless mother tongue.
However, Viserys Targaryen didn't pay attention.
He knew this was the unique magic he had gained after transmigrating.
He could see the attribute panels of all people and objects, although most of them were written in High Valyrian.
Fortunately, as a former small-town test-taker, he had diligently studied Valyrian language during his time here after transmigration, finally gaining some grasp of this foreign language.
"Ser Jaime, you should go rest early!" Viserys Targaryen instructed.
At this time, Jaime Lannister was still a loyal warrior of the Targaryen Family.
Regardless of whether he would become kingslayer in the future, Viserys Targaryen had no reason to punish him at this moment.
After all, neither the five hundred thousand commoners of King's Landing nor his foster father had any emotional connection to him.
As long as he held Jaime in his grasp, he could tightly control the Old Lion Tywin, who was about to seek 瘋狂報復the Targaryen Family.
"I'm not tired, Your Highness!" Jaime took a deep breath and straightened his chest.
Soon, guided by Jaime Lannister, Viserys descended the empty Maegor's Holdfast, passed through the silent ballroom, and arrived in the Great Hall of the The Red Keep.
His mother, Queen Rhaella, was also there.
At this moment, she was heavily pregnant, carrying his sister Daenerys Targaryen, the future savior born of the storm.
"You brat, you're here!" A weary voice sounded from behind Viserys.
Viserys turned around; his father, Aerys Targaryen, stood silently behind Viserys, his back hunched.
His hair was disheveled like a bird's nest, his clothes were stained, and his ten fingernails were grown so long they were almost spirally twisted, yellowed and rough, looking exactly like a bizarre wizard.
If he were on the street, no one would believe he was a king.
Viserys's eyes widened, and he stood frozen, at a loss.
He had to believe that his father was indeed mad!
The words he had prepared were swallowed whole the moment they reached his lips.
After all, what madman would listen to the advice of a mere eight-year-old child?
That being said, he still politely bowed to the King.
However, King Aerys did not respond.
His eyes were vacant, and he muttered to himself as he paced back and forth, then stopped, his back hunched, and coughed violently.
"Rhaegar lost, but I won't lose! Cough, cough, cough..."
"Blue eyes, green eyes, I'll burn them all..."
"Burn them!"
He anxiously paced back and forth, stopping and starting, occasionally uttering strange, inexplicable words.
Suddenly, Aerys Targaryen's eyes turned crimson, and he forcefully tugged at Viserys's sleeve, saying, "You and your mother quickly pack your things! I'll have the Royal Navy take you to Dragonstone!"
Viserys stood stunned.
Even though he was regarded as a madman by everyone, his foster father's last shred of sanity was still protecting him and his family!
As an orphan in his previous life, this was the first time he had felt the love of family. Was this what family felt like?
Viserys Targaryen's heart warmed. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the deranged King before him.
Aerys Targaryen,
Spirit: 10 (Mental Corruption)
Physique: 30 (Weak)
Agility: 30 (Aged)
Strength: 20 (Powerless)
Magic: 50 (Magic bloodline dormant)
"Mental Corruption?" The glaring crimson characters sent a shockwave through Viserys Targaryen's heart.
Indeed, his imagined worst-case scenario had come to pass: the gods' hands had already reached the iron throne!