The maids quietly served Viserys as he finished washing and dressing in the traditional white silk garments of House Targaryen.
Looking at the childish, still tender face in the mirror that already began to show the features of Targaryen, Viserys took a deep breath and temporarily suppressed the grand plans surging in his mind.
Now, he needed to play the role of “Prince Viserys”, an ordinary royal child who might be spoiled and somewhat arrogant.
To be fair, it had to be said that in the damned feudal society, days with maids serving you were truly comfortable.
After finishing breakfast, under the pretext of wanting to see the glory of his ancestors, he pestered an official in charge of inner court affairs to visit the crypts where the dragon bones were stored.
Such childish curiosity did not arouse suspicion; after all, he was a prince, so what was wrong with being a little willful?
Accompanied by several Red Keep guards, Viserys finally stepped into the place deep within the Red Keep where the dragon bones were stored.
A breath mixed with dust, mustiness, and a certain ancient majesty rushed toward his face.
He involuntarily slowed his pace, his gaze scanning the dim space.
Although he was mentally prepared, seeing these legendary dragon bones with his own eyes still made him feel a momentary palpitation.
Under the illumination of the faint light, the huge skeletons were like prehistoric behemoths dormant in the shadows.
He walked toward the nearest skull, which should be the skull of Balerion the Black Dread.
It should have originally been placed in the Throne Room to showcase the power and glorious history of House Targaryen, but Viserys I ordered it moved here, with an even more ridiculous reason: fearing that visiting lords and nobles would feel scared.
It was quite speechless, and since he himself was also Viserys, perhaps this was also a destined certainty in the dark—he would bring people’s fear of dragons back to the continent of Westeros.
Look at this skull, it was unimaginably huge; the eye socket alone was taller than his entire person, and the mouth could even let a carriage pass through.
Viserys raised his head, examining this pale giant object closely.
He reached out and touched the dragon bone, a warm touch coming through his fingertips.
Even in death it made people feel warm; it seemed that the dragons of this world were truly magical creatures.
But soon, he recovered from the initial shock.
As a time-traveler who knew the plot, he clearly knew that these dragon bones had lost their vitality; they were only the glory of the past.
True hope lay in the dragon eggs that might still exist in the world.
However, although these dragon bones could not be resurrected, their value was still immeasurable.
Across the Narrow Sea in Essos, there were still many people who would spend a lot of money to buy these dragon bones.
“A dead dragon is still a dragon,” the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.
He stood among the numerous dragon bones, already calculating in his mind which parts were easiest to transport, which were most valuable, and how to transport them out of the Red Keep without anyone knowing.
The remains of these dead dragons would become one of his capital assets for rising in this world.
“What is there to look at with these dark bones, Your Grace?” The accompanying official saw him pause and couldn’t help asking.
Viserys tried his best to make his voice sound like a simple child’s babble: “They look very…
powerful.
They once belonged to our dragons.
It would be good if we still had dragons…”
He appropriately showed age-appropriate yearning and loss.
This performance successfully fooled the other party, who only took it as a child’s temporary whim.
In the afternoon, according to the “plan”, he made a request to his cheap old dad, “The Mad King” Aerys, that he wanted to formally learn swordsmanship.
Unexpectedly, The Mad King did not oppose this, and instead seemed to feel that it was a good thing for a prince to be martial.
With a wave of his hand, he appointed “Bold” Barristan Selmy, one of the Kingsguard, as Viserys’s enlightenment mentor in swordsmanship.
On the training grounds of the Red Keep, Barristan acted as a rigorous and patient teacher.
He first gave Viserys a small wooden sword, taught him how to hold the sword, and then emphasized footwork, balance, and basic blocking postures.
The initial training was far more arduous than he had imagined.
However, although he was still young, his strength and endurance were still much greater than those of normal children.
Perhaps this was the “golden finger” brought by his time travel?
After all, he had silently called upon the system and the old grandfather many times before, but none of them had appeared.
It seemed he was not that kind of extremely refreshing protagonist, but physical abnormality-type talents were also acceptable, and he wasn’t picky.
However, after a long time, it was still a bit too much to bear.
Gradually, the wooden sword appeared increasingly heavy in his hands, and every swing made the muscles of his arms and shoulders ache intensely.
Barristan’s requirements were extremely strict; for a simple lunge and chop movement, Viserys often had to repeat it dozens of times until the movement was standard and the strength control was just right.
“A sword is not a stick, Your Grace.
It is an extension of your arm and the embodiment of your will.”
Barristan often personally corrected subtle movement deviations for him like this, “The wrist must be steady, and the gaze must follow the tip of the sword.
On the battlefield, a tiny mistake is enough to forfeit your life.”
Sweat soaked his bangs, slid down his cheeks, and dripped onto the sandy ground of the training field.
Viserys gritted his teeth and persisted, knowing that these basic trainings were the cornerstone for him to master more advanced swordsmanship in the future, and even to learn two-handed swordsmanship later on.
He was not only learning how to swing a sword, but also honing his endurance and temperament.
During breaks in training, he would also ask Barristan about the stories of other Kingsguard, especially the knight known as the “Sword of the Morning”, Sir Arthur Dayne.
“Is Sir Dayne’s swordsmanship really as formidable as legend says?
Can he defeat everyone?” Viserys tilted his face upward, trying to make his eyes full of admiration.
Barristan said with a serious face: “Ser Arthur is one of the most outstanding swordsmen I have ever seen, Your Grace.
His two-handed swordsmanship can be called unrivaled in this world.”
At the same time, Barristan was also secretly shocked by Viserys’s talent and physical fitness, because he had been silently observing Viserys’s acceptance capacity; after all, he was a prince, and it was impossible to truly let him get hurt.
As a result, it was only when he increased the practice amount to the training volume of normal Red Keep soldiers that Viserys began to feel somewhat strained.
You must know that the Red Keep guards of this era were still elite, not those making up the numbers more than a decade later.
After ending the day’s training, he rested briefly.
It wasn’t until evening that Viserys saw Arthur Dayne, the highly renowned knight on the continent of Westeros.
His temperament was quiet and introverted, completely different from Barristan’s uprightness and majesty.
Using his identity as a prince, Viserys took the initiative to step forward and strike up a conversation, expressing his curiosity about Starfall and Dorne (especially his “goodwill” towards House Martell, since House Dayne of Starfall was a vassal of House Martell), as well as his admiration for this legendary knight.
This was to be able to live a bit more peacefully when going to Summerhall in the future, since it was located on the border of Dorne.
Arthur Dayne maintained a polite greeting without much enthusiasm.
Viserys knew that building a connection could not be accomplished overnight; he needed to slowly close the distance.
Afterwards, he mentioned his concern for Princess Elia Martell (the niece of Arthur’s good friend Lewyn Martell), which seemed to slightly change Arthur’s attitude.
After all, he and Lewyn Martell were currently arranged to protect Rhaegar’s family.
Aside from the above actions, Viserys also used his identity as a prince to carefully build his own information channels.
In the morning, he deliberately befriended some slightly older squires, stable boys, and even kitchen helpers of moderate birth.
By rewarding them with a few silver stags, he heard many disreputable gossip stories circulating within the Red Keep from them—which noble had run up debts again, and what quirks a certain guard captain had.