-Chapter 46-

-Chapter 46-

After a few minutes of playing this cat-and-mouse game, he could no longer get up before I raised my sword and struck him with Lamentation.

I hit his steel shield, breaking it into several pieces, some of which hung from that scum’s arm, still attached because of the straps.

Then, I struck again, and he tried to defend himself with Lady Forlorn, but he had no strength left, and I had too much.

The force of my blow sent his Valyrian steel sword flying a few meters away from us, and that’s when I saw the fear in his eyes.

“I wasn’t planning on killing you, I just needed to hurt you a little.”

“You... you don’t have to do this, if you... if you spare me, I’ll serve you,” he said quickly.

“Where is that loyal friend, that brave knight ready to save the widow and the orphan, huh?”

He turned his gaze toward the royal box, maybe toward Jessamyn, Jeyne, Rhaenyra, or perhaps the king, but I placed my sword on his cheek, piercing his skin slightly to make him turn his gaze back to me.

“You’ve crossed the line. No one can help you now, but if you tell me what I want to know, I might reconsider my decision.”

Leowyn Corbray nodded, so I asked him, “Who wants me dead?”

“It was Jeyne Arryn, she promised me her hand if I agreed to kill you,” he said, pointing at Jeyne, who looked at me, stunned.

I nodded, not surprised at all since he had just confirmed what I already knew, and I smiled at Jeyne.

Even though he pointed at her, apart from me, Leowyn, and her, no one knew who he was pointing at or why, because no one could hear us.

“Were you...”

His words stopped abruptly, replaced by gargling sounds, as I pierced his throat with a swift motion.

“You should have kept your mouth shut,” I said before pulling my sword out of Leowyn Corbray’s throat.

I grabbed Lady Forlorn’s sheath, then took a few steps before bending down to pick up the ancestral sword of House Corbray.

I sheathed Lady Forlorn in its scabbard before returning to the royal box.

The looks and silence as I walked by were proof of the shock that everyone had.

Apart from my men, few people, if any, knew about my prowess with a sword.

It was understandable for them to be shocked, seeing me take down a man armed like a seasoned knight, as if a three-year-old child was being taught how to hold a wooden sword.

Once I reached my seat, a thought occurred to me.

I sheathed my sword, still covered in Leowyn Corbray’s blood, and said:

“This sword doesn’t suit me. I am not a Royce, you have proven your loyalty, and that’s all I expect from my men. Lamentation is yours, uncle.”

I heard muffled gasps of astonishment, but none of us paid any attention, as my uncle was too shocked and didn’t even dare extend his hands to touch the blade of our ancestors.

I grabbed his hand and made him hold his new sword by force before sitting down and placing my new Valyrian steel blade beside my seat.

I met my father’s gaze, and there was a rare gleam in his eyes.

‘Pride.’

‘It’s not like he taught me how to fight,’ I thought as I looked away from my father and focused on my mother, whose narrowed eyes revealed her anger.

‘I’m going to feel this reprimand,’ I thought, smiling, before finally turning to Laena, who, contrary to what I expected, wasn’t looking at me at all and was staring straight ahead.

“The gods have spoken...” began my uncle Viserys.

I smiled as I saw Laena deliberately ignoring me, and just as I was about to turn away from her to focus on my uncle’s passionate speech about my bravery, skill, and the will of the gods, I locked eyes with Jeyne.

She was panicking, and that was perfectly understandable, as her little plan to have me killed in an honorable duel had just failed.

‘And now she’s starting to fear the consequences of her actions,’ I thought, smiling at Rhaenyra’s cousin.

“You played and you lost. Good luck with what comes next,” I said without making a sound.

I saw Jessamyn glance at me before quickly looking away toward the king, which almost made me burst out laughing.

I mentally shook my head before turning around just in time to hear my uncle shout:

“ALL HAIL THE CHAMPION AEMON TARGARYEN, PRINCE OF RUNESTONE AND RIDER OF URRAX!”

‘He never stood a chance,’ I thought, waving to the crowd.

• [Name: Aemon Targaryen]

• [Age: 15 years]

• [Title: Prince of House Targaryen]

• [Allegiances: House Arryn: Lady Jeyne Arryn, House Targaryen: King Viserys Targaryen]

[Familiar: Urrax]

• {Attributes}

[Constitution: 289]

[Strength: 200]

[Endurance: 200]

[Dexterity: 200]

[Agility: 200]

[Speed: 200]

[Intelligence: 150]

[Willpower: 150]

[Charisma: 150]

[Perception: 150]

[Wisdom: 120]

[Unassigned Points: 1]

{Passive Skill}

[Unburnt LVL 3: Your resistance to ordinary fire is 30%, and your dragon lineage is purified by 12%]

---

[Urrax]

[Physical: 25.199]

[Magic: 30.000]

[Attribute Points: 0]