c10: Attribute Enhancement
He knew very well who the Lannisters were.
Even before coming to this world, Viserys had heard stories about them. After arriving in the Seven Kingdoms and learning more about the nobles and great houses, the name of House Lannister became even more familiar to him.
He also knew, at least vaguely, the events that would follow.
Though the details were blurred in his memory, the general outcome was clear enough. The lion banners of the west would eventually march east under the pretense of loyalty, and the fate of the Targaryen dynasty would be decided in blood.
He remembered that King's Landing had once expected salvation from the west.
The capital believed reinforcements were coming from the Westerlands.
But reality was cruel.
The Lannisters had not come to save the crown.
They had come to end it.
Once the armies of the west reached the gates of the city, the betrayal would become the final blow that shattered House Targaryen, a dynasty that had ruled the Seven Kingdoms for nearly three centuries since the days of Aegon I Targaryen.
Fortunately, the men of the castle had not captured any surviving Lannister deserters from the battlefield.
Nor had they bothered to carefully inspect the corpses left on the kingsroad.
Sir Jeremy, who had commanded the patrol that found the royal party, had simply accepted the explanation given by Sir William. According to that report, the attack had been carried out by rebels or brigands who had ambushed the queen's escort along the road.
No one suspected anything more.
Because of poor communication and the slow movement of messengers across the Crownlands, the castle had also received no fresh information from King's Landing.
For now, the truth remained buried in the mud of the battlefield.
The silver-haired boy stood quietly by the window, but inside his mind anxiety churned like a storm.
He could not reveal that anxiety to anyone.
To him, the soldiers guarding the castle corridors were both protectors and silent watchers.
Their loyalty belonged to the Iron Throne but loyalty in the Seven Kingdoms could change quickly.
"I must board a ship and leave before the news spreads,"
Viserys thought to himself as he gazed out toward the harbor below.
Merchant vessels and fishing boats were already setting sail in the pale morning light, their sails catching the wind as they drifted out toward the open sea.
If he could reach one of those ships, perhaps he could escape the coming catastrophe before the lions of the west arrived.
"Meow~"
At that moment a soft cry interrupted his thoughts.
The small black cat Balerion the Cat leapt lightly onto the bed.
Its tiny paws padded across the blankets until it reached the sleeping child lying there.
The cat gently stepped across its master's brown hair before lowering its head. A small pink tongue carefully licked the cheek of the little girl sleeping beside him.
Then the animal curled its tail and settled down quietly beside her.
Viserys's attention was briefly drawn away by the cat's movements.
He turned his head to look at the girl.
Rhaenys Targaryen was still sleeping deeply, completely exhausted after the terror of the previous day's attack on the kingsroad.
Fear and fatigue had finally overcome her.
After watching her for a moment, Viserys slowly looked away.
His gaze shifted toward the silver-plated round mirror standing nearby on a small table.
He stared at it silently for three seconds.
Whoosh
A cloud of dark mist suddenly spread out across the mirror's surface.
Letters slowly formed within the swirling black fog.
[Viserys Targaryen]
Sun Sign: 5
Earth Sign: 6
Water Sign: 8
Moon Sign: 18
"Hmm?"
In the reflection of the mirror appeared the face of a delicate young boy.
The figure looked thin and fragile, no more than seven or eight years old. Long silver-gold hair fell loosely across his shoulders, framing a pale face and a pair of faintly purple eyes eyes that carried the unmistakable features of the ancient dragonlords of Valyria.
Those violet eyes were now slightly bloodshot.
The exhaustion from battle and a sleepless night had left clear marks on his face.
Viserys frowned slightly as he examined the strange High Valyrian characters that floated in the mist.
His gaze lingered on the symbols representing "sun" and "earth."
If his earlier guesses were correct, those attributes corresponded roughly to physical strength and bodily endurance.
Viserys remembered very clearly that before leaving King's Landing, the numbers had been different.
The "sun" value had been 3.
The "earth" value had been 5.
"My strength and constitution increased in such a short time?"
The boy blinked in surprise.
In his understanding, physical attributes like these should only improve slowly with age, training, and natural growth.
Yet now the numbers had clearly changed.
Ever since the mysterious black mist first appeared before his eyes, he had never truly understood why only he could see it.
No one else seemed aware of it.
The silver-haired boy stood quietly before the mirror and rubbed his temples.
Too many things had happened in a single night.
The ambush.
The battlefield.
The moment he drove his sword into Kevan Lannister.
Viserys felt exhausted both physically and mentally.
Even though the strange "moon" attribute shown in the mirror seemed far higher than the others, he forced himself to remain alert.
He needed to understand what was happening to his body.
Slowly his eyes shifted away from the mirror.
They settled on the longsword lying on the wooden table nearby.
It was the same blade he had used to kill Kevan Lannister.
Sir William, who had nearly died from his wounds, had fallen into a deep sleep after drinking milk of the poppy provided by the castle's maester. In the chaos following the battle, the sword had remained with Viserys.
No one had taken it from him.
A half-burnt candle flickered on the round wooden table.
Its small flame swayed gently as the salty sea breeze drifted through the open window from the harbor below.
A small black cat nestled comfortably on the soft silk bedding, its dark fur almost blending into the shadows of the chamber. The animal's eerie green eyes stared curiously at Viserys.
It was Balerion the Cat, the same mischievous creature that had once wandered the halls of the Red Keep and had somehow followed the young prince through the chaos of their escape.
The cat tilted its head slightly.
It clearly did not understand what the boy intended to do.
Then, reflected in Balerion's bright eyes, the figure of the boy appeared as he slowly drew the sword from its sheath.
Clang
The sharp metallic sound echoed faintly inside the quiet bedroom.
The blade caught the candlelight, and the cold gleam of polished steel flashed across the room. The reflection illuminated the walls and furniture for a brief moment.
Even now faint stains of dried blood still clung to the smooth surface of the blade.
It was the blood of Kevan Lannister, the man Viserys had killed with his own hands during the brutal ambush on the kingsroad.
Within the sword's reflection, the boy's face appeared clearly.
"My strength… it really seems to have increased," Viserys murmured quietly.
A trace of excitement appeared in the reflection of his violet eyes.
The sword that had previously felt heavy and awkward in his hands now seemed far lighter. When he gripped the hilt and lifted it, the movement felt smooth and natural.
His strength had clearly increased.
And the most frightening part was that the change had occurred silently, without pain or effort, as though it had happened overnight while he slept.
Viserys lowered the blade slightly and pressed one hand against his chest.
Whether it was merely imagination or not, his body did seem stronger than before. His breathing felt steadier, and his arms carried a faint sense of new power.
"What… could this be?"
The silver-haired boy stood in front of the mirror again.
After a moment he carefully returned the longsword to the round wooden table beside the candle.
Then he fell into deep thought.
Viserys began to carefully recall everything that had happened since he fled King's Landing.
According to what his mother had told him, terrible news had arrived in the capital the day before they fled.
The rumors had spread quickly through the court of Aerys II Targaryen, though the truth had been hidden from the children at first.
Viserys himself only learned fragments of it the next morning.
Soon after, he had been hurried into a carriage under heavy guard. The royal party had been ordered to leave the capital at once.
At that time his mind had been hazy with confusion.
He had barely understood what was happening.
All he remembered clearly was risking his life to save the frightened little girl beside him Rhaenys Targaryen during the chaos of their escape.
Throughout that entire journey, nothing particularly strange had happened.
He had not trained.
He had not eaten anything unusual.
Nothing about his body should have changed.
Then, during their journey north toward Duskendale, everything had suddenly gone wrong.
Their escort had been ambushed.
Men disguised as bandits had attacked the royal carriage on the lonely kingsroad.
But Viserys now knew the truth.
Those attackers had been soldiers secretly sent by House Lannister.
During that brutal struggle, he had done something he had never imagined he could do.
He had personally killed Kevan Lannister.
"Could it be… because I killed someone?"
The boy's breathing slowed as the thought formed in his mind.
The journey itself had been simple.
Aside from the creaking wheels of the carriage and the tense atmosphere among the guards, nothing had been different from any other day of travel.
Only one thing had changed.
Only one event stood apart from the rest.
Viserys had taken a human life with his own hands.
The silver-gold-haired boy stood motionless as his thoughts raced faster and faster.
The faint redness in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by a growing brightness.
If his theory was correct…
Then he had discovered something extraordinary.
A path to power.
If the mysterious black mist responded to killing enemies…
Then every time he defeated an enemy, his strength might grow stronger.
Viserys's heart began to beat faster.
He had wondered many times before why only he could see the strange black mist and the mysterious High Valyrian words floating within it.
Now it seemed possible that this strange power was something unique to him.
Perhaps it was his… advantage in this cruel world.
His personal key to survival in Westeros.
But that realization only created another question.
Why him?
Why had this mysterious power chosen him?
Was it simply because of his bloodline?
After all, he belonged to House Targaryen, the ancient dragonlord family that had conquered the Seven Kingdoms centuries ago.
Viserys's thoughts wandered further as his mind became increasingly active.
The first explanation that came to him was the most obvious one.
The blood of the dragon.
The ancient blood of the Targaryens.
But then another thought interrupted that idea.
The mysterious writing inside the black mist appeared in High Valyrian.
That ancient language had once belonged to the powerful civilization of Valyria.
Viserys hesitated slightly.
"Is it because I'm a Targaryen… or because I'm Valyrian?"
Even though the Targaryens were the last dragonlord family to survive the Doom of Valyria, many other people across the world still carried traces of Valyrian blood.
Merchants, nobles, and sailors from the Free Cities often possessed the pale hair and purple eyes of that ancient lineage.
Yet among all those descendants, Viserys seemed to be one of the very few who possessed this strange ability.
The boy slowly sat down on the edge of the bed.
Resting his chin in his hand, he stared quietly at the candle flame and thought for a long time.
Unfortunately, his knowledge of the world was still limited.
No matter how hard he thought about it, he could not fully understand the truth behind the mysterious black mist.
But there was one thing he knew for certain.
There was no such thing as a free gift in this world.
Viserys might have been small and young, but his mind was sharper than most people expected.
He understood the dangers hidden behind sudden power.
That was why, even after discovering this strange gift, he remained cautious instead of celebrating.
For the moment, the young prince chose to watch… and wait.
.....