Dragonflame!"
With Viserys Targaryen's furious roar, the wizard's figure that had appeared out of thin air instantly burned to ashes.
"Your dragon is quite rude, isn't he?"
A deep voice echoed in Viserys Targaryen's ear.
He looked around, and from the darkness emerged a wizard resembling a dried corpse.
The next moment, the aroma in the air suddenly grew thick.
Viserys Targaryen was about to draw his sword when his vision suddenly went black, and he collapsed.
When Viserys Targaryen awoke, he found himself standing at the end of the world.
There was no opulent scent of Qarth here, only an endless wind, whipping his face with countless ice shards.
The sky was leaden gray, and the snowfield stretched to the horizon, where moving doors appeared one after another.
"Is this the The Temple of the Undying?"
Viserys Targaryen's eyes widened as he murmured to himself.
Here, Daenerys Targaryen in the original story saw her and the Dothraki king's child, the iron throne in the The Red Keep of King's Landing, and the usurper's fate.
However, in contrast, what Viserys Targaryen saw was a bustling city with towering skyscrapers.
Suddenly, he saw that man—Robert Baratheon!
This once invincible usurper was now gasping violently in the snow like a trapped wild bull.
His black iron crown was askew, and each swing of his warhammer carried a desperate force, smashing the pale, blue-eyed monsters to pieces.
But there were simply too many monsters, pouring endlessly from the snowstorm.
"Come on! You bastards!"
Robert roared, his voice sounding so lonely on the vast snowfield.
His warhammer tore through an Other, shattering the creature into countless ice crystals, but more wights swarmed him again.
Viserys Targaryen stood not far away, silent.
He had dreamed of this moment countless times, dreamed of his enemy's blood staining his blade.
But now, as he watched the once spirited usurper's temples frosting over, as he saw his movements slow with exhaustion, a cold pity, not satisfaction, welled up in his heart.
It turned out that everyone was so small before fate.
At that moment, a figure riding an ice-bone warhorse emerged from the depths of the snowstorm.
He was taller than the other wights, wearing an ice crown, and the blue flames in his eyes were like ancient, frozen stars.
That was the Night King!
The Night King raised his hand, and a spear made entirely of ice solidified in his grip.
Time seemed to slow down.
Viserys Targaryen saw Robert turn his head, saw the deadly cold light reflected in his eyes.
The warhammer was still suspended in mid-air, but the ice spear had already pierced his chest.
There was no blood, only the sound of ice rapidly covering the wound.
Robert Baratheon opened his mouth, as if to let out a final roar, but only exhaled a cloud of white mist.
The iron throne rolled from his head, bounced once in the snow, and was then covered by fresh snow.
The stag that once shook the rule of the Seven Kingdoms fell silently, like a candle extinguished by the wind.
The illusion began to distort, and the wizard's voice once again echoed in Viserys Targaryen's ear, with sickening triumph: "Look, this is the ultimate destination of the iron throne you contend for. Before the eternal night, all kingship is illusory."
Viserys Targaryen's lips curled slightly, a playful look in his eyes.
He knew, of course, that this was just an illusion, a past and future conjured by tempting memories deep within people's minds.
Just then, the dragon-shaped emblem on his chest suddenly became scorching hot.
It wasn't a physical heat, but a burning sensation from the soul, as if a bloodline dormant for a thousand years was awakened at this moment.
He heard Sunfyre's dragon roar in the distance.
"No."
Viserys Targaryen suddenly opened his eyes and shouted loudly.
The next moment, the illusion before him vanished, and the wizard retreated in horror.
He saw Viserys Targaryen's eyes turn a bright, molten purple, as if dragon blood was awakening within him.
"What are you looking at, lost dragon?"
However, the next moment, the wizard's disdainful whisper surged from three directions simultaneously.
Viserys Targaryen then realized that he had been bound by magical chains at some point.
Bound with him was his mount, Sunfyre!
The magical shackles wrapped around his wrists were not cold black iron, but living shadows, countless tiny black snakes gnawing at his bloodline magic.
In the three corners of the altar stood three identical figures, phantoms of the wizard: one manipulating fire spells, one maintaining the confinement array, and the third hovering in mid-air, liquid darkness flowing from his fingertips.
Viserys Targaryen raised his face, which was chafed and bleeding from the chains, and for the first time, golden dragon eyes ignited within him.
"I'm looking at your death."
He said softly, "Three of you, three ways to die."
Upon hearing this, the wizard's phantom hovering in the air let out a distorted laugh, a laugh that made the dragon crystal stones above the altar rattle: "Has the mad blood of Targaryen finally destroyed your sanity completely?"
"No."
Viserys Targaryen shook his head.
His golden dragon eyes reflected the wizard's true body, not any of the three phantoms, but the slightly fluctuating air in the altar's shadows.
He saw the warning of the future.
It wasn't boastful or vague omens, but countless clearly unfolding timelines.
"It's the Dreamwalker's talent."
Viserys Targaryen's eyes narrowed, utterly shocked.
In the original story, he used his dragon dreams to sense danger, repeatedly escaping the assassins sent by Robert Baratheon with his sister, Daenerys Targaryen.
From then on, he suspected he might be a Dreamwalker.
Unexpectedly, at this moment of mental control, he actually awakened his Dreamwalker talent.
Compared to his sister Daenerys Targaryen's unburnt bloodline, he, as her elder brother, was by no means inferior.
In one timeline where he entered the The Temple of the Undying, Viserys Targaryen saw Sunfyre's Dragonflame burn through the temple's dome; in another timeline, he discovered the secret of the Valyrian Freehold.
"You are nothing but traitors expelled by the Valyrian Freehold."
Viserys Targaryen said disdainfully.
Upon hearing this, all three phantoms froze simultaneously.
"What are you saying?"
The fluctuations in the shadows suddenly intensified, and the three voices overlapped into one.