Chapter 78: Victory Kiss
That mouthful of blood mist seemed to drain all of Darklane's vitality. His vision blurred, and he spun around, searching for Viserys. Finally, he spotted a vague silver-white shadow and rushed forward, but instead of swinging his sword, he charged with his chest.
Viserys understood that Darklane wanted to die with dignity, preferring to fall by the sword rather than succumb to the poison pill. So, Viserys thrust his sword into Darklane's chest. The sharp blade pierced through, and a faint smile crept onto Darklane's lips.
"Thank..." he began, but his sentence was cut short as his body crumpled to the ground. The theater fell into a moment of silence. The sight of the silver-haired boy, the limp corpse, and the spreading blood formed a tragic tableau.
"Oh..."
"Oh..."
"Oh..."
"Viserys! Viserys! Viserys!"
"Viserys! Viserys! Viserys!"
The crowd's cheers erupted, echoing outside the theater. Jorah's face changed, and he felt a tremor run through his body.
"Viserys Targaryen wins!"
Countless handkerchiefs were thrown into the air as people celebrated. They didn't seem to care who had fallen, as long as there was a victor. But there were those who genuinely hoped for Viserys's triumph. He saw Regis roaring and shouting, Kyla expressionless, and Dany smiling.
He blew a kiss to Dany. Though she didn't quite understand the gesture, she felt something and blushed slightly. After all, young girls can be shy. Viserys enjoyed the moment, knowing it wasn't impolite. The kiss became a ritual for lovers before parting after the tournament.
His gaze continued to scan the crowd and locked with a pair of green eyes—Falia. She quickly looked away when she realized he was looking at her. Asha, on the other hand, waved enthusiastically and blew him a kiss just as he had done. Falia gathered the courage to extend her long, white neck, but Viserys had already shifted his gaze.
He looked up to the center of the stands, first bowing slightly to Sealord Ferrego, then smiling and acknowledging Roth, and finally locking eyes with Tormo. It was as if iron arrows shot from their eyes collided mid-air. Tormo secretly decided he would not let Viserys leave Braavos easily.
Viserys felt something change on his panel. He checked it and saw that his swordsmanship had improved significantly:
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Swordsmanship: - Master (8900/10000) +
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He realized he was about one-tenth of the way to becoming a Master. 'I wonder what level lies beyond Master,' he thought.
Viserys didn’t plan to focus on improving his swordsmanship for a while. He intended to enhance it through actual combat in the future. He hadn’t even used half of his strength in the competition. Since he was joining the mercenaries, he should focus on improving his riding and archery skills, as well as his warg abilities.
In short, many skills needed improvement, requiring more resources. The blue dragon egg could be used to gain 10 more GP, with an allocation of 0.5 GP daily. In ten days, that’s 5 GP; in three months, 50 GP; and in one year, 200 GP. If the upper limit for attributes like Constitution, Health, and Magic was 100, what use were the extra points? He also wondered if the Valyrian Steel Sword could provide some points...
As Viserys was about to leave, a young man in a blue cloak descended from the center stand. He was Ferrego's personal guard.
"Lord Viserys, please follow me."
The guard's choice of title—"Lord" instead of "Prince"—revealed the Sealord's stance. Ferrego had no intention of helping Viserys reclaim his kingdom. He was merely a witness to the "secret marriage pact." But Viserys didn’t mind. When he demonstrated enough strength, people would clamor to share in the "achievements of the dragon."
He glanced at Darklane’s body on the ground, considering having it collected. However, he worried that Tormo, the old lord, would take out his anger on his family, so he decided against it.
Following the guard, Viserys reached the center of the stands. The blue-cloaked guards saluted him, their faces showing envy, jealousy, and admiration. Ascending the spiral staircase, he saw the three people seated there. Everyone, including the attendants behind them, turned to look at him. Ferrego and Roth smiled, while Tormo remained expressionless.
"Lord Ferrego Antaryon," Viserys bowed.
"Viserys, the last time we met was five years ago," said Ferrego.
"Eight years ago, my lord, around November," Viserys corrected, recalling the winter day despite the summer air.
"Haha, I'm getting a bit old; my memory isn't what it used to be."
It was clear Ferrego didn’t want to dwell on the past. As a ruler, such a lapse in memory was likely intentional, signaling twice that he would not involve himself in Viserys's restoration.
A guard brought a stool, markedly inferior to the grand chairs of the three lords, but Viserys sat down leisurely.
"Are you going to join the mercenaries?" Ferrego asked.
"Yes, I'll leave after receiving my prize and bonus," Viserys replied with a smile.
Ferrego and Roth exchanged glances and laughed.
"Then you've made quite a profit. A dragon eggs and Valyrian sword alone are worth a fortune."
"That's why I came. If there are more dragon eggs in the next prize, I'll definitely return," Viserys joked, easing the atmosphere. Everyone, except Tormo, smiled knowingly.
Hearing that Viserys was indeed leaving, Ferrego visibly relaxed. If Viserys remained in Braavos and grew unruly, it could cause problems. Robert might perceive Braavos as supporting Viserys, which could lead to complications. Even if war was unlikely, it could affect trade—Ferrego’s primary concern.
"Well, come visit me at the Sealord's Palace tonight, and I will give you the dragon egg and Valyrian steel sword myself," Ferrego said.