Game of Thrones: The Wrath of the Sleeping Dragon

He had already given up, thinking that he would never be able to lift a sword again in his life, but unexpectedly Viserys gave him another chance.

Bessie clenched her fist slightly, feeling some pain between her fingers, but it was much better than before. Then she drew her sword from her waist.

Clang——

The sword light illuminated the entire study.

The guards outside the door seemed to have heard the sound of a sword being drawn coming from inside the study, and immediately asked what was going on.

"Your Majesty, what happened?"

However, Viserys remained calm, taking two steps back to give Bessie space.

Hearing the guards' words outside, he calmly spoke up.

"fine."

It feels so good to hold a sword again after so long.

Due to severe burns, Bessie has damaged the joints of her fingers, making it difficult for her to hold a sword.

The scholar diagnosed him at that time as someone who would never be able to lift a sword again in his life, referring, of course, to fighting with a sword.

Now, Bessie gripped the sword hilt tightly with all five fingers. Although his skin was still charred and terrifying, a surging vitality emerged from the flesh beneath that horrific skin.

"Although I haven't fully recovered yet...it feels really good."

Bessie swung her longsword forcefully, trying to feel the changes in her body, and said with delight.

He then realized that he had been too excited and had actually brandished his sword in front of His Majesty the King.

Then he quickly sheathed his sword with a snap and instinctively knelt on one knee to beg for forgiveness.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty..."

For someone who had suffered such a serious injury, such a violent movement was still somewhat unbearable. A tearing pain struck, causing Bessie, who was kneeling on one knee, to twitch slightly.

However, Viserys merely blinked, observing Bessie's change, before reaching out to help his Kingsguard to his feet.

"I'm feeling better now that I've recovered a bit, and things might get even better after some time."

Viserys thought for a moment, then spoke.

At first, the black cat didn't change much, but later the changes became more and more obvious.

"You are the first person to receive this divine power..."

Viserys was saying something.

At this moment, he raised an eyebrow slightly, and then stopped speaking.

Because he seemed to suddenly sense Bessie's emotions...

He seemed very grateful to her. Although he didn't appear particularly excited on the surface, Bessie's heart was in turmoil, to the point that she had just forgotten about her injuries.

How is this going?

At that moment, Viserys suddenly remembered when he had ordered the black cat to kill the chickens not long ago, and he seemed to vaguely sense the 'confusion' that the black cat was conveying.

Is this like Bellerion's situation...?

We've made contact?

It was only then that Viserys suddenly realized that there was such a vague connection between him and Bellerion.

It seems that Bellerion absorbed a lot of black mist when it was still a dragon egg.

Once Bellerion is hatched, it grows much faster than its brothers, and the two can connect mentally without words.

"So that's the purpose of the black fog?"

Viserys' eyes brightened slightly; he finally understood the purpose of the black mist.

He is the source of the black mist, and those who receive the black mist are essentially his servants, able to enhance their own abilities.

At the same time, a spiritual connection will be formed between them and their owner.

It was like the connection between vampires and their transformed servants that he had heard about in his past life.

Chapter 302 Farewell

Melisandre, who hasn't been seen by Viserys for a long time, has been very busy lately.

This woman came from the distant Assassin, and she had her own purpose in traveling thousands of miles to the Free Trade City-State.

The series of things she's been busy with lately are naturally related to the collapse of the Wall in Westeros, the presence of the White Walkers, and the human alliance.

Simply put, she believes that Viserys will ultimately be the one to defeat the White Walkers.

That's why she stood firmly on the side of the true king.

However, Melisandre knew Viserys' temperament, although she very much wanted to persuade him to send troops now to unite the human forces against the White Walkers.

But she won't do that.

After all, she wasn't Viserys' great-great-grandfather; Maester Aemon was an elder whom Viserys needed to respect.

He could say what Melisandre couldn't, even though both were acting from a moral high ground, ignoring personal honor and disgrace.

This great cause is for the true good of all humanity.

However… Viserys is a very pragmatic person.

Forget hatred? By what right?

He didn't want Westeros to become a ghost town, but sending troops to help Robert was absolutely out of the question.

Robert Baratheon has sent assassins to try and kill Viserys countless times, and his mother, Layla, died because of it. Viserys will certainly not forget that.

Unless Robert removes his crown, kneels and begs for surrender, and peacefully transfers power—though Viserys knows that's equally impossible for someone with Robert's fiery temper.

Ding ding dong dong—

In the gardens below the palace, the sound of metal clanging could be heard incessantly.

Viserys and Melisandre were walking and talking down a long corridor, while two boys in leather armor were practicing swordsmanship below.

One of them had long silver hair, violet eyes, and a handsome face.

The other boy had black hair and blue eyes, and was a bit taller.

The boy with long silver hair attacked sharply, clearly having received rigorous training; every move he made was precise and skillful.

The other black-haired boy was constantly on the defensive, and his swordsmanship was more practical, with wide, sweeping movements.

"He should use a hammer, just like his father."

Viserys, with his keen eye, offered his comment.

If titles like "Greatest Swordsman of the Seven Kingdoms" still existed today, Viserys would undoubtedly be deserving.

He has completely transcended humanity, becoming a special being between gods and mortals.

After witnessing his master push a living person into the furnace as a blood sacrifice to forge a sword, Gendry gave up being a blacksmith and instead became an ordinary guard in the castle.

No one knows his true identity, not even himself.

He was merely selected to travel from Andalus to Pentos and come here with the main force.

Because Gendry was the youngest of the guards, Aegon approached him, and the two boys, who were the same age, naturally became friends.

"This child possesses the blood of a king."

Viserys and Melisandre stood at the edge of the corridor watching the battle below, and then the red-haired woman spoke.

Viserys saw every move clearly, and Melisandre's eyes were equally sharp, but what she saw was different from what Viserys saw.

"Oh?"

The silver-haired young man raised an eyebrow slightly upon hearing the red-robed witch's words.

You mean Aegon?

He thought Melisandre was talking about Aegon's identity. Could this Aegon really be his older brother Rhaegar's son?

Dragon dreams often carry important revelations. Viserys dreamed of the birth of Balerion, but he has never dreamed of Aegon's existence.

"Do not."

Melisandre paused for a moment, then shook her head slightly.

"I'm referring to that black-haired boy, Your Majesty."

"Gendrey?"

Viserys then realized what was happening.

Gendry had been in Andalus with his master, Master Tob, for so long that Viserys hadn't even realized it until now...

He truly is of royal blood.

Viserys had no idea how the witches identified the 'blood of the king' they spoke of.

In his mind, the king's illegitimate son, Mance Rayder's son, and even the Khal Drogo's son were all considered to be of royal blood.

If a village chief proclaims himself king, would his son be considered to have royal blood?

If that's the case, then wouldn't the blood of the king be mass-produced?

A strange thought suddenly flashed through Viserys's mind.

Melisandre, of course, had no idea what strange thoughts were swirling in the mind of the seemingly dignified King; she had come today to bid farewell to Viserys.

She was about to leave Essos and head to Westeros to scout out the way for the true king.

Because she sensed that the power of the Cold God had crossed the Great Wall and was invading the entire world.

The magical barrier that had kept the cold at bay had collapsed, and if the power of the God of Cold were to fully cross the Wall, the cold winds would sweep across Westeros.

The entire world, including Dorne and even the continent of Essos, will be plunged into an endless night of darkness and biting cold.

Humanity will perish, and all things will wither.

"This is an era of the return of the demonic tide."

Melisandre warned in a serious tone.