As soon as I opened my eyes, I found myself in the world of Game of Thrones as the second son of House Targaryen, the brother of the Mother of Dragons, Viserys! I found that the timing of this transmigration was a bit too bad. At this time, the Targaryen dynasty had already fallen, the guards who protected me and my sister had already died, there was no rice in the house, and there were people outside collecting debts. And I, after selling my mother's crown, became a Beggar King. Putting aside the matter of restoring the kingdom, I have to pay back my debt first. *This is a Translation* Name: 权游龙二哥 Author: 浴前带膘侍卫 Transliteration: Quan Youlong's Second Brother Author: Fat Guard Before Bath Raw:xiaoshuo.qq.com/detail/1049152280 Keep in mind that in the only available raws I found, there are only 100 public chapters, the rest are behind a paywall. I got more chapters by paying for coins or by acquiring them in the Chinese app.
Viserys was stunned when he saw millions of Magic points available before him. His own reserves barely exceeded 1,000 points, and it took him three days to replenish even that. Yet, the Wall held an immense reservoir of Magic, almost beyond comprehension.
Curious, Viserys decided to test the Wall's power. He depleted 100 points of his Magic and then placed his hand back on the Wall to gauge how quickly he could recharge. To his astonishment, his Magic was fully restored in just five minutes. This meant that even if he completely drained his reserves, he could be fully recharged in under an hour—provided he remained near the Wall.
'It seems the Wall is a massive Magic battery,' Viserys thought. 'But I wonder if it can regenerate its own power.' He resolved to return later and test this theory further.
As the crane was slow and inefficient, most of the Night's Watchmen and soldiers opted to climb up the wooden ladder instead. The Wall was not only towering but also remarkably wide—broad enough to accommodate four or five carriages side by side. The road atop it was in good condition, allowing the group to proceed directly along the Wall toward Castle Black.
Meanwhile, Maester Aemon sat quietly in his room. When Jon Snow arrived, he informed Aemon of Viserys's arrival at Castle Black. "Maester Aemon, the Targaryen king is here. Commander Mormont asked me to bring you with me."
"Yes, please help me up," Aemon replied, his voice calm yet tinged with anticipation.
Jon nodded, stepping forward to assist Aemon to his feet. Together, they made their way to the Night's Watch dining hall, where the aged Maester would finally come face to face with the last of his kin.
Upon his arrival at Castle Black, Viserys made a decision that left those around him uneasy.
"Ser Alliser," Viserys began, his voice cutting through the cold air. "I recall that you joined the Night's Watch after the battle for King's Landing, correct?"
Ser Alliser Thorne, who had been silently brooding over his distaste for the Targaryens, was caught off guard. He hadn't expected Viserys to bring up his past. "Yes... yes, Your Grace," he replied hesitantly, unsure of where this was leading.
The others exchanged puzzled glances, wondering why Viserys was suddenly interested in the training officer's history.
Viserys continued, "Commander Mormont, I see no sin in fighting for the Targaryens, and Ser Alliser is no sinner. When I leave the Wall, I intend to take him with me."
Jeor Mormont's expression darkened. Castle Black was already desperately short of men, and there had never been a precedent for such an action in the long history of the Night's Watch. More importantly, Viserys's proposal was a direct violation of the Night's Watch Oath—a sacred vow that bound each man for life.
Alliser, who had harbored resentment towards Viserys, suddenly felt a glimmer of hope and gratitude. The thought of leaving the bleak, frozen wasteland behind filled him with a longing he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years. He missed everything about King's Landing—the brothels, the food, the theater, even the stench of the streets. 'Your Grace, take me with you!' he shouted silently in his mind, his eyes nervously flicking to the Old Bear. He knew that without Mormont's approval, he would never escape the Wall.
Jeor Mormont's face was stern as he delivered his response. "I'm sorry, Your Grace, but you cannot take Ser Alliser with you. He has taken a vow."
This was the second time since their meeting that the Old Bear had refused Viserys, and for a king, such rejection was intolerable. But Mormont understood the gravity of the situation. Allowing Viserys to take Alliser would set a dangerous precedent, one that could shatter the already fragile morale of the Night's Watch.
Mormont also knew that Ser Alliser wasn't the only one in this predicament. Jaremy Rykker and Jarman Buckwell, among others, had been sent to the Wall by Tywin Lannister for their role in the battle for King's Landing.
If given the chance, who among them would willingly remain at the Wall? The Night's Watch was no longer the symbol of honor it once had been. Since the time of Aegon the Conqueror, it had become a refuge for thieves, liars, robbers, and rapists. The recent influx of men from the usurper's war was an unexpected boon, and now Viserys wanted to take those men away.
Viserys, however, had his reasons. He needed to set an example for the nobles of Westeros and bolster his own prestige. Although he didn't particularly like Alliser, removing him from the Night's Watch would be a symbolic blow to Robert Baratheon's claim to legitimacy. Moreover, Viserys saw this as a way to win Mormont over to his plan to integrate the wildlings into the Night's Watch. It would solve the problem of their manpower shortage, killing two birds with one stone.
Despite understanding Mormont's position, Viserys couldn't shake his frustration at being denied twice in a row. As a ruler, such defiance was not something he was accustomed to accepting.
"I intend to take not only Ser Alliser but also others who were forced to the Wall during the usurper's war," Viserys declared, his voice firm. "And I will also take Maester Aemon."
As he spoke, Maester Aemon arrived at the door, having overheard part of the conversation. His keen mind immediately grasped the wisdom in Viserys's words, and he appreciated the young king's insight.
"Your Grace," Aemon greeted, leaning on Jon's arm as he bowed. But Viserys, unwilling to accept such a gesture from his elder, quickly stood up. With surprising speed, he gently pushed Jon aside and helped Aemon to the main seat.
"Aemon, I am Viserys, son of Aerys," he introduced himself with quiet reverence.
In front of everyone, Viserys guided Aemon to sit in his own seat, making it clear that respecting the elderly would be a cornerstone of his rule. He then placed Aemon's hand on his shoulder, allowing the old Maester to feel the connection between them.
"Your Grace Viserys... haha, you truly are a Targaryen," Aemon said with a broad smile, the unmistakable bond of shared blood stirring his heart. The sensation was undeniable, and Aemon felt a rare joy.
When the Targaryens fell, Aemon had been nearly ninety years old. The news had shattered him, and for days he couldn't eat, leading the Lord Commander to consider petitioning the Citadel for a new Maester. Though Aemon believed he had made peace with the past, seeing a Targaryen again filled him with a joy he had thought long extinguished. He could tell Viserys was a 'good boy,' recognizing that anyone who respected their elders couldn't be all bad.
As a man who had read countless books and experienced much in his long life, Aemon understood the motivations behind Viserys's actions. Yet, despite his gratitude, he was prepared to decline the young king's offer.
"Your Grace Viserys..." Aemon began.
"You can just call me Viserys," the king interjected warmly.
After a moment of silence, Aemon continued, "Very well, Viserys. I came to the Wall in my twenties. My body and spirit have become one with the ice and snow here. Knowing that you are alive and well is more than enough for me."
The room fell silent, the weight of the conversation between two men separated by more than eighty years of life filling the air. Only Alliser Thorne, desperate to leave the Wall, fidgeted nervously, hoping Aemon's willingness to stay might pressure the Old Bear into allowing his own departure.
Jon Snow, on the other hand, observed quietly. He saw the unmistakable resolve in Viserys's eyes.
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