The rope was cut.
A desperate roar echoed from below, followed by a brief pause, and then a dull thud, like a heavy sack of rags hitting the ground.
Thud!
Everything fell silent, except for the ceaseless waves.
'Bloodhand of Lys' had fallen from the cliff and died.
Viserys stood alone atop the castle, staring down into the darkness where he could see nothing. The grappling hook on the other side clattered to the ground.
Viserys leaned against the stone window, breathing heavily.
"It's over."
Because of his height, he was actually leaning out from the edge of the stone window, and then he drew his sword to cut the other person's rope, sending them tumbling down the cliff.
Although it was the middle of the night, and the castle was completely enveloped in darkness, Viserys couldn't see anything below from the stone window. However, he was certain the other person was dead.
There was no need to confirm it.
Because he had lived in Dragonstone for half a year, Viserys was not as carefree as Rhaenys. He had already memorized all the complex terrain within the castle.
Moreover, he had heard the sound of a heavy object hitting the ground. There was no doubt that the person hadn't fallen into the sea, but had only fallen onto the rocky beach, where they would have died from a head injury.
"I killed someone again."
And now.
The boy jumped down from the stone window, leaned against the wall of the corridor, and slid down to sit on the cold ground, not wanting to move a single finger.
Viserys was exhausted, bordering on collapse. If it weren't for a burning desire to survive, he likely would have collapsed long ago during the chase.
Whew…
The boy sat down, gasping for air, and wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.
The blood splattered on his face had already begun to congeal, mixing with the fresh sweat. This, combined with the boy's tender, lovely face and clear, violet eyes, created a stark contrast that was somewhat chilling.
This seemingly cute and innocent little boy had, in a short period, employed various tactics – sneak attacks, hiding, and planning – to kill three ruthless mercenaries.
Viserys's silver-gold hair clung to his cheeks. He panted, trying to steady his rapidly beating heart.
Only then did he have time to reflect on how it all began.
"What… happened?"
When the attack had suddenly begun, Viserys hadn't been able to react at all. He only knew that these people were there to kill him.
Then he ran for his life, hiding and ambushing the mercenaries to survive.
However, even now, he didn't know who these people were or why they were trying to kill him.
Viserys's first thought was that King Robert wanted to eliminate the threat entirely, and in fact, his initial thought was spot on.
As for who these people specifically were, that was beyond Viserys's knowledge.
Viserys knew next to nothing about Essos on the other side of the Narrow Sea, except for what was recorded in his favorite travel journals.
He knew nothing about mercenaries or the Company of the Brave.
Then his attention fell on the black smoke he had absorbed after killing these people.
Clang…
He slowly drew the short sword from its sheath, the clear blade still bearing a few mottled bloodstains.
That was left over from when he killed his first mercenary.
The sword's surface reflected the light from the fire. Viserys stared at the reflection for three seconds.
Whoosh.
The black mist re-condensed.
It still displayed the words for Strength, Spirit, Agility, and Constitution in High Valyrian.
Viserys didn't know the true nature of this black mist, but he was absolutely certain of one thing.
That this black mist, his 'Golden Finger,' had an inextricable connection to the Valyrian Freehold, which was destroyed hundreds of years ago by the Doom of Valyria.
He had fainted under the gaze of the Seven Gods half a year ago when he had just landed on Dragonstone to be crowned, and then he dreamed many strange and bizarre dreams.
Among them, the deepest and most extensive memory was that of a doomsday disaster.
Volcanoes erupted, the earth fractured, and the magnificent cities were destroyed, the land torn asunder into islands.
From that moment on, the most prosperous civilization in human history, even hailed as a civilization that "could challenge the gods," was utterly erased from the face of the earth.
The ruins of Valyria became what people now called the "Smoking Sea" and the "Lands of Always Winter", seemingly still bearing some potent influence or a curse, remaining untouchable by humans even after nearly four hundred years.
And its secrets were forever left there.
House Targaryen was once a part of the Valyrian civilization.
Twelve years before the Doom, a prophet was born into a family of little influence within the Freehold of Valyria.
She foresaw the coming of the Doom, and thus persuaded her entire family to move to Dragonstone, the Targaryen outpost near the western continent, thus escaping the disaster.
And this family, of little power in the Freehold of Valyria, was later the House Targaryen that conquered Westeros and ruled over the land for nearly three hundred years.
All of this was learned by Viserys after landing on Dragonstone, from poring over the books stored there. After all, it was the ancestral home of House Targaryen.
At the same time, the Maester at the time had also explained many stories about the Valyrian civilization to Viserys.
After all, this was the history of the Targaryens. While understanding the history of other noble houses, one should naturally also know what had happened to their own family.
"Perhaps…one day I will unravel this secret."
Viserys's gaze focused on the swirling black mist, including the words written in High Valyrian, as he thought inwardly.
[Viserys Targaryen] Strength (Sun): 5 Constitution (Earth): 6 Agility (Water): 8 Spirit (Moon): 20
In addition to this, there was also a wisp of black smoke drifting outside the black mist.
He had deliberately controlled it after absorbing it when Viserys killed the first mercenary, preventing it from directly merging into his body.
Viserys wanted to try and see if he could manipulate this wisp of black smoke to strengthen the abilities he wanted to enhance.
The two enemies he had killed previously hadn't absorbed any black smoke. Viserys guessed this might be related to the fact that he had killed them with ranged weapons.
The condition for absorbing the black mist from an opponent was that he had to kill them personally. There had to be direct contact between them in order to draw power.
What the essence of this power was, Viserys also didn't know.
Did it absorb the opponent's soul?
Or… the vitality that hadn't completely dissipated from the corpse?
.....
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