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.
The people of Braavos, especially those at the Sealord's Palace, are quite cunning. They did not disclose where the final arena would be. Instead, they secretly released news that one of three theaters—the Moon Pool Theater, the Sevenstar Theater, or the Purple Mist Theater—would be used.
These three theaters are the largest and most luxurious in Braavos, each capable of accommodating two thousand spectators.
Wealthy individuals and dignitaries, eager not to miss the competition or the chance to see the Sealord, bought seats in all three theaters. For instance, Meris secured seats in all three venues. The Golden Company and the Stormcrows, having participants in the competition, were directly allocated several seats.
Those with less money could only afford to buy seats in one theater, hoping luck would be on their side.
This strategy did not affect the poor, who could rarely afford to visit the theater, perhaps once every few months or even half a year. As the celebration began, ticket prices for the three major theaters soared, rising more than tenfold. However, the schedule for the final competition was made public, allowing the common folk to participate through "gambling bets."
Like when Jorah lost his money bag the other day, if not for a jewel he had on him, he would have struggled to eat. 'Viserys seems pretty strong. Why not bet on him?' Jorah thought. He counted out ten gold coins from his pocket and placed a bet on Viserys.
Viserys was set to fight in the first match of the first day. His opponent was a swordsman from House Zalyne who had just returned from a mercenary group. The man had met Jorah before and, though skilled, was not quite on par with Viserys.
"Any more bets! Any more bets! Braavos's lover Viserys versus the spear group's Benro! Any more bets!" Helbo shouted. The day before, he had won back all the money he lost betting on Viserys.
Unlike Jorah's rational judgment, Helbo had given up thinking. He had decided that no matter who Viserys fought, he would bet on him! Whether he would make a fortune or not depended on this.
Compared to the uproar outside, the theater was much more orderly. After all, everyone seated there was considered a decent person. Many had brought their servants, and, more importantly, the Sealord himself was present. Everyone was careful with their words and behavior.
Suddenly, a figure's appearance caused a commotion. The man wore a blue and gold brocade cloak and held a Dragonbone Scepter. It was Ferrego Antaryon, the Sealord of Braavos.
"Bow to the Sealord's Palace..." a voice commanded, and everyone bowed their heads to the central platform, like a large field of fallen wheat. Ferrego waved his hand, and the people around him shouted again:
"The Sealord announces that the Swordsmanship Tournament is ready to begin..."
Everyone sat down but continued to watch the central stand closely. Ferrego tilted his head slightly, and a servant whispered in his ear.
"My lord."
"Have Lord Roth and Lord Tormo join me here."
"Yes."
The two were both surprised by the Sealord's invitation. However, despite their surprise, it was impossible to refuse.
"My lord," they bowed to Ferrego.
"Sit down, my lords," he said, gesturing to the two chairs beside him.
They took their seats, one on either side of Ferrego.
"Who do you think will win the championship of this Swordsmanship Competition?" Ferrego asked.
"The swordsmen are all very skilled, each with their own strengths. I can't make a definitive judgment, but I have high hopes for a few of the mercenary swordsmen. They've experienced life and death, and their swordsmanship and mentality should be superior to that of the young," Tormo replied, referring to Viserys.
Roth, not to be outdone, voiced his support for Viserys. "When I see him, I think of myself when I was young," he said with a smile.
The other two thought to themselves, 'Isn't that just flattering yourself? Are you as handsome as him?'
"Although the champion swordsman will be decided after the competition, I think the winner of the music competition is already clear," Ferrego said. He was very pleased with the three songs Viserys had performed.
Roth smiled at this. After all, Viserys had at least won one championship, which was also important for Falia. In other words, his side had already won one and a half of the three championships, which was quite good.
"You mean..." Tormo asked in a flat tone.
"Yes, that Viserys Targaryen."
Roth said, his smile widening. "I'm honored to share your opinion, my lord. His songs will be sung for at least a hundred years!"
"Yes, he's a very talented young man," Ferrego agreed.
Tormo felt a bit upset seeing the two of them in agreement. "These songs are indeed very good, but, my lord, forgive me for being narrow-minded, but I always feel that these songs are not his work."
"Every time Viserys submits a piece of music, a messenger from the Sealord's Palace watches. If he didn't write it, who did?" Roth immediately argued.
"That's why I said I was narrow-minded. I want to know, this Viserys seems to be only fifteen years old this year. He came to Braavos when he was seven or eight, and he's been frequenting various social occasions in his teens, hoping to get an army to recapture the throne. Has he ever been a sailor?"
Roth sneered. "So according to you, every bard who recites the songs of the Knights must have been a knight before?"
"Lord Roth, that's not what I meant. I'm just saying that Viserys is too young. Take the first song; it's not something a teenager could compose. What does the Lord think?"
Ferrego knew that Tormo was still trying to "struggle" a bit. Although he intended to support House Zalyne, it was not good to be too obvious.
"There is some doubt, but it doesn't mean he has used any tricks."
Tormo smiled, sensing an opportunity. "I think that after the competition, we should ask him to compose another song in front of us. If he can produce a piece of similar quality, I will give him an additional 50,000 gold dragons in my name!"
Fifty thousand gold dragons. Roth glanced sideways. 'This guy is really rich.'
"But if he can't do it, I don't think the dragon egg should be given to someone like him."
Ferrego appeared thoughtful, then turned to Roth. "I think Lord Tormo's proposal can be considered. What do you think?"
Roth pondered. If Viserys truly had that kind of talent, it wasn't impossible. This would also be a good way to shut Tormo up. "It's all up to you, my lord, but what theme should we choose?"