Game of Thrones: Dance of the Dragons

This lord really couldn't understand why Duncan, a mere child of a poor family, had no social standing or status.

For a mere victory in a single match, a lord was willing to bestow upon him the title of knight—what an immense honor!

This kid actually refused?

"I am very sorry, sir, I was indeed very ungrateful."

"But I still want to try again, take another step forward, and maybe I'll succeed?"

The lord left in anger; he had never seen such an ungrateful commoner as Duncan.

Duncan didn't know why he was resisting such a temptation. His initial goal was simply to provide a better life for his family.

Now that this goal is right in front of us and within reach, why refuse it?

Perhaps it was the witch's prophecy, or perhaps it was his heart, or perhaps he simply didn't want to stop there?

Duncan asked himself this question as he continued to prepare for tomorrow's Cavaliers match.

……

"He refused, why?"

Darren leaned against the window, having changed into the formal black and red robes of the Targaryen family, with a glass of juice beside him.

He couldn't understand what a great honor it was for a commoner to be knighted.

"Young people are naturally ambitious and want to keep climbing higher, which is perfectly normal."

"If he continues to win, he might attract the attention of more nobles. Perhaps he could even marry a noblewoman."

Helena leaned against Beller's chest, flipping through the book in her hands.

"Brother, aren't you going to do something about it?" Helena asked with a smile.

Baylor didn't even look up. "I'm not a controlling, twisted mother. Duncan can do whatever he wants."

"I don't want to interfere too much, and I'm too lazy to deal with these boring things."

In Beller's view, the most important thing was that he had finally come to the Riverlands for a vacation and get away from those complicated and troublesome things.

In the afternoon session, besides Baylor's winning streak, Duncan's path to the next round was also very smooth.

Aside from his relatively simple equipment, Duncan's precise mastery of the rooster's angle was practically innate.

Many experienced veterans have privately praised Duncan, saying he was a born knight.

Duncan's winning streak quickly propelled him into the quarterfinals.

Upon hearing this news, the vendors around the tournament were genuinely happy for Duncan.

Whenever they see this child pass by, they would enthusiastically offer him their own baked bread, lemon cake, or a big bowl of steaming pigeon soup, as well as corn and pumpkin.

An obscure bard even composed a song specifically for Duncan.

The song praises Duncan, saying he is a knight born from the common people, and that he will surely follow the way of chivalry in the future, protecting all the kind and weak.

Duncan accepted everyone's kindness with a smile, treating each person with humility and respect.

Lord of Benliu, inside the castle.

Oscar sat excitedly next to Baylor, recounting Duncan's story of how he had become an outstanding child.

"Prince, I think he is a knight you should not miss. He is very tall and strong."

"Most importantly, he possessed the observational skills of a commander, which is very rare to see in an uneducated commoner."

Baylor put down his book and could almost immediately tell that Oscar's words had a hidden meaning.

"Tell me, what do you want in recommending Duncan to me?"

Oscar scratched his head sheepishly. "I knew I couldn't hide it from you, Your Highness."

"I heard that after this martial arts tournament ends, you will return to the Free Trade City to punish the rich and slave owners who rebelled."

"I also want to go back, not only to do my part for the past and for you, but also to hone myself!"

His grandfather had told him long ago that Prince Baelor was the most perfect monarch the Targaryen family had seen in nearly a hundred years.

The knowledge I gained from being by his side was far more abundant than what I learned from books or what I saw with my own eyes.

Of course, Tully also hoped to further strengthen the close ties between the Riverlands and the royal family through his grandson's loyalty.

"Great! If Duncan makes it to the finals, I'll take you to the Free Trade City and make you my direct subordinate." Baylor patted Oscar on the shoulder.

This is not just encouragement, but also an indirect expression of optimism.

For any noble family's child, becoming a direct subordinate of the Crown Prince is no less prestigious than becoming a wine server at the royal council.

"Thank you. I will pray to the Seven Gods that Duncan will definitely reach the finals!"

The morning after the banquet ended, the second day of the martial arts tournament.

Baylor and Duncan both made it to the finals in their respective groups almost simultaneously.

Even more outrageous, Duncan actually defeated a direct descendant of Duke Baratheon, a boy said to be incredibly strong and who had once killed a wild boar during a hunt.

Today, however, he was defeated by a commoner disciple who had no martial arts instruction, was poorly equipped, and only knew how to use a wooden spear.

Most importantly, Duncan seemed to be possessed by the Seven Gods, remaining completely unharmed.

For the Baratheon family, this was not just a matter of losing honor; the gossip of the surrounding nobles was like trampling their family's face into the mud.

"Prince Bellor, have you seen this?"

"I didn't let you down, I really made it to the finals!"

Duncan rode his horse to the main platform and looked excitedly at the knight he had long admired.

Beller smiled and put down his glass. "Congratulations."

Duncan clenched his fists tightly, trying to calm his restless heartbeat and his sweaty palms.

"I've made it to the finals. Could I... could I ask you for a favor?"

Perhaps it was the applause around him that emboldened Duncan.

Oscar frowned slightly and sternly rebuked, "Duncan, it's already a great favor from the prince to allow you to enter this tournament as an exception."

"Don't push your luck, don't ask for too much, understand?"

"It's alright, the atmosphere is already set, why don't you tell us what your request is?" Prince Baylor waved his hand.

Duncan raised his head, his dark eyes gleaming with the sharpness of a hawk. "After the tournament, whether I win or concede, I wish to challenge you!"

"To be truly recognized by you, and then, to be knighted by you, Prince Baelor Targaryen!"

Upon hearing this, the once lively martial arts tournament turned into a scene of utter devastation, with every spectator's face turning ashen.

If the Seven Gods allowed them to insult Duncan, he would certainly be labeled as "ungrateful."

For a mere commoner like myself, being able to participate in the tournament is already an honor, let alone wanting to be knighted by a prince.

Where does he get his thick skin?