Chapter 18 The Wandering Swordsman

Ilic was stunned by the sudden and violent attack.

As he looked up, he saw the man who had just been immobilized sitting in a chair with a satisfied expression on his face, holding a silver toothpick in his hand.

"White Knight, it's not my intention to harm you, I'm just a poor hungry man looking for some food that suits my taste,"

Seeing this, Baelon quietly set aside his plate and hid behind Ilic.

"Look at the speed of the shot, he's clearly a master. His small stature can't possibly offend anyone."

"You're so generous, Your Highness,"

Seeing the pastries, the other party smiled and bowed to Baelon.

There really doesn't seem to be any malice.

At that moment, Baelon noticed the appearance of the other party.

He had curly brown hair, brown eyes, a weather-beaten face, and always maintained a smiling expression.

He was quite short, only about 160 centimeters at most.

It's normal among common people, but compared to knights who excel in martial arts, they're too small.

Feeling Rega's gaze, the other party smiled, "I know your identity, but it seems you don't know who I am."

"Who are you?" asked Baelon.

"A nobody."

Baelon: ...

Harsh.

Baelon's fist clenched.

He felt they were toying with him.

Before Baelon could get angry, the other party handed him the plate and said softly, "Shirius Freer, the wandering swordsman from Braavos, is willing to share the delicious food with the prince."

Baelon stared into the man's eyes, his pupils black. They were as dull as water, unable to see through his inner thoughts.

He glanced back at Ilic, and his eyes directed the question.

Eric nodded slightly and signaled that everything would be fine.

No one in the Red Keep dared to publicly harm the king's eldest son.

Baelon took a piece of pastry and smiled, "I'm willing to share it with you, Shiliu Freer."

Shiliu seemed to always be smiling, "You can call me Shiliu, but I'm not a noble, and I've lost my job temporarily."

"Oh, what did you do before, with such excellent swordsmanship?"

The other party was very skilled, and his hometown was a city-state overseas, so Baelon was very interested in him.

"We can chat while we eat."

"That's what I meant."

Father and son leaned back in their seats and chatted while eating pastries without being tense at that moment.

During the exchange, Baelon learned.

Shiliu was an assistant to a knight when he was young, he knew how to use a sword since he was a child, and he was very good at it.

But he always wanted to be an elegant dancer.

He put a lot of effort into this.

When he came of age, he was discovered by a big merchant in Braavos and hired as his royal dancer.

He thought good times were ahead.

Unexpectedly, a few years later, the big businessman was murdered.

Xiliu was dancing for the big businessman at the time and, as expected, became a suspect.

To avoid being captured, he sneaked into Westeros.

Thanks to the gratitude of a noble lady, he was brought to the Red Keep to attend the banquet.

Baelon listened with fascination, as if he were immersed in Shiliu's story.

From time to time, he felt sorry for his unfair experience.

Shiliu ate and drank while lamenting his unfair fate.

For a while, the two became fond of each other and became mutual confidants.

Of course, the above is purely from Ilic's personal perspective.

In fact, Lei Jia listened attentively on the surface but continued to complain in her heart.

"It's really rare for a dancer from Braavos to master a good sword with his talent!"

Look at Shiliu's appearance again.

He has to be tall enough to be good with a sword, and he has to have looks to be good with a sword... How blind must that rich man in Braavos be to hire such a short man to dance for him? Does he have a unique taste?

"It's a serious lie. You can't tell me you fooled some foolish noble girl into sneaking into the Red Keep to eat and drink."

Baelon smiled and said nothing, silently watching him make up his nonsense.

After chatting for a while, they ate up all the chocolate pastries on the nearby table, and Shiliu stopped reluctantly.

Leng Buding mentioned the peripheral martial arts competition.

"Prince, the duel outside is very exciting. Don't you want to go watch?"

Rega shook his head, "No, I'm still too young, and I'm not used to seeing blood."

Shiliu smiled, "That's true, but the dueling place. But the chaos made the king angry."

"Why?"

Baelon frowned, realizing there was a mystery behind Shiliu's words.

"A Dornishman tortured and killed his opponent, spouting nonsense and being extremely arrogant."

Shiliu took a sip of wine and said, "The Dornish people will continue to challenge, and the second duel should have just started."

Rhaegar immediately stood up and hurried to the competition field with Ilic.

Shiliu smiled and followed suit.

The three arrived at the competition venue and found everyone in the audience cheering for one person.

Rhaegar found a nearby position and stood behind the railing to observe.

A knight in silver-gray armor held a sword with both hands and swung it wildly, forcing a young dark-skinned man to retreat.

Every time the sword brushed against the opponent's body, the spectators applauded and urged him to kill the opponent.

After watching for a while, Ilic whispered, "The dominant side is the Iron Knight from the Stormlands, and the opponent is the Dornishman, a shameless and despicable person."

Rhaegar nodded and watched the duel closely.

The Shillong Knights attack fiercely, with a typical charging style.

They pay attention to being quick and precise in their attacks, crazily suppressing the opponent's actions and leaving no room for counterattacks.

The young Dornishman clearly saw this and took advantage of his light armor to move from side to side, dodging each attack.

The lance in his hand became a shield against the long sword, and the metallic sound echoed throughout the dueling field.

As he watched with enthusiasm, Shiliu suddenly said, "The victory is decided, and the time for offensive and defensive changes is not far away."

Rega looked at him suspiciously and asked, "Why do you say the Shillong Knights are very powerful?"

"It's true that one is worth ten on the battlefield, but the Dornish boy avoids fighting. We just need to delay until his physical strength weakens to win."

Rhaegar looked back at the dueling field.

If you look closely, Shillong started to pant slightly under the repeated attacks, and it was difficult for the long sword to approach the opponent.

On the other hand, the young Dornishman still seemed to have some strength left and was fighting but retreating.

He didn't forget to taunt, "Sir Knight, if you ride a warhorse, I definitely won't fight you. It's a pity you can only trample the mud with both feet."

Haha, even if there's no warhorse, I'll still cut off your head. No problem."

Xillong's voice was hoarse, his words full of disdain, but the sweat on his forehead betrayed his condition.

Rhaegar tugged at Ilic's sleeve, "Sir, are the Shillong Knights really going to lose?"

Ilick looked solemn, "It's hard to say, the cunning Dornishmen aren't giving Shillong the chance to get close to him."

"Siron Long's armor is very heavy, and the longer it takes, the worse it will be for him."

Shiliu interrupted at the right moment, "Armor can save the owner's life in critical moments, but it also limits the ingenious flexibility of the human body."

Just like Dos across the sea. The people of Lark never wear armor and believe that only with agility can they win on the battlefield."

"Look, I believe in the Shillong Knights."

Rega had a small face and secretly cheered for Shillong.

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Xiliu is an original character created by the author, inspired by Syrio, Arya's dance instructor in Game of Thrones.

A mysterious, elegant, and arrogant swordsman.