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Last True Remnant of Old Valyria

An unknown powerful Dragon Lord with the knowledge of modern world and future comes into turbulent time of the Dance of Dragons. With lineage greater than Targaryen could ever hope to achieve. What change would it bring to the fate of others?? This is my first work. So, if you like this work just motivate me with leaving review and power stones so at least I know that my work is being appreciated. Because I am new into this it takes hours to write one chapter so just give me some motivation with power stones. And last English isn't my first language, and I am learning as I write. Chao! Enjoy This my buymeacoffee if you want to support me or like to read advance chapters of this fic. buymeacoffee.com/Daeranyx_Drakonar patreon.com/Daeranyx_Drakonar

Daeranyx_Drakonar · Livres et littérature
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49 Chs

Light Spar with Daemon

King's Landing 

105 AC

Upon reaching my room, I pushed open the heavy doors and entered. After bathing and retrieving the ward stone I always carry since leaving Skagos, I began to set wards around my room. This time, I kept it simple: intent sensing, Anti-spying, an alert for harmful intentions, and a shield around the bed should any malice draw near. In King's Landing, one can never be too cautious against the schemes of lords.

I've taken to anti-spying measures because, from our midday meal to supper, I sense that we're being watched—a feeling stemming from my magical intuition. It could be Bloodraven or someone else entirely; I'm uncertain if anti-spying wards are effective against them. The discomfort of being observed compelled me to act. I attempted a spell to reveal any human presence, but its failure suggests our observer employs magic. With the wards in place, I feel a semblance of security, allowing me to retire to bed and swiftly succumb to a deep sleep.

*****

As the sun's rays began to filter into my room through the windows, I slowly woke up after spending some time on the balcony, breathing in the fresh air. I commenced my morning ritual, putting on the clothes I had engraved with runes for weight and various purposes to aid my physical training. The weight isn't too heavy, so it doesn't put much strain on my body, and I've only recently started this practice.

After grabbing the bastard sword, I always carry, I left the keep in King's Landing. While walking and asking servants about the courtyard, I stumbled upon a small field filled with knights and squires practicing for the morning. It seemed I might gain some experience today, as I usually train alone. Although I had hunted bandits outside Skagos, I didn't want to let out all I've ate during important fights since I had never seen a dead body. However, that didn't count as real experience, as northern bandits relied solely on brute strength and lacked any real skill.

While I practiced my sword moves, including thrusting, cutting, and footwork, several knights began to watch me. However, I remained undisturbed by their gaze and continued my training for half an hour until I was thoroughly warmed up. Then, I began searching for a knight skilled enough to challenge me. As I searched, Daemon began walking toward the courtyard. Upon noticing me, he did a double-take, and a smile spread across his face as he approached me.

"You're an early riser, Lord Drakonar. It appears you're seeking an opponent for a spar, if I'm not mistaken. Then let us spar," said Daemon, his smile ever-present. To spar with the greatest fighter in the seven kingdoms? Count me in. Sparring with him would give me a measure of how far I've come.

"You're right. Prince Daemon, I was looking for someone to engage in some light sparring with. Should we use normal steel or Valyrian?" I inquired as we walked toward the vacant area in the courtyard. Several people overheard our conversation and began to follow us, eager to witness our bout, as Daemon is renowned in the Seveon Kingdom.

Upon arrival, he said, "I assumed you prefer the bastard sword since you wield a Valyrian steel one. Let's not use the Valyrian for our first sparring match. Here, take this," as he tossed me a blunted bastard sword from the nearby rack. He selected a blunted longsword for himself and stepped into the open space. A crowd had gathered; the knights who had been practicing stopped to watch our spar. After asking some onlookers to clear the area, Daemon approached and faced me, assuming his stance.

Daemon faced me, his blunted longsword wielded with the ease of a seasoned warrior. Opposite him, I held my own blunted bastard sword, my gaze fixed on Daemon. As he began to circle, seeking an opening, I mirrored his movements, searching for a vulnerability. I knew from his stance that he was unlikely to attack first. And knowing Daemon character he will try to provoke me.

Daemon smiled, a glint of mockery and amusement sparkling in his violet eyes. "Let's see what the Freehold has taught you, my lord." There it was, just as I had anticipated, but my extraordinary talents in combat would not go to waste. As I analyzed his stance, I found an opening that would prevent this fight from ending with a single move by him. Truly, he is a formidable opponent, especially since I don't have a single ounce of experience in sword fighting, but this past year has taught me a lot. The less said about Daeranyx's talent with the sword, the better.

With a single calculated movement, I lunged forward, initiating a powerful overhead strike. The velocity of my assault was remarkable, quicker than Daemon had predicted, yet the Rogue Prince was well-versed in the art of unpredictability. He sidestepped, his longsword's blunted edge skillfully deflecting the blow with a swift parry.

The sound of clashing steel resonated across the yard as we engaged in a flurry of rapid exchanges. My movements were smooth and accurate, each arc of the bastard sword demonstrating my innate skill. With pure strength, I drove Daemon backward, the force of my blows and exceptional aptitude compensating for my inexperience.

Daemon, seasoned by innumerable duels and battles, scrutinized my technique, pinpointing the subtle hesitations and minor overreaches. With a skilful twist of his wrist, he redirected a forceful strike, causing me to lose my balance. Capitalizing on the moment, Daemon advanced, his longsword tracing a low arc aimed at my adversary's legs.

I reacted as quickly as I could, hoisting the bastard sword just in time to parry the strike. However, Daemon's counter was swift—a rapid thrust targeting my chest made me step back. In that instant, Daemon delivered another strike, a measured and accurate hit that knocked the sword from my grasp, sending it clanging to the ground.

Gasping for breath, I retreated a step, my hands lifted in surrender, while a slight smirk danced on his lips despite his defeat. Daemon sheathed his sword, acknowledging me with a nod of respect.

"Impressive," Daemon remarked, sliding his blunted weapon into its sheath. "You have the talent. With a few more years of experience, you could become the best," he said, his eyes reflecting a respect for me.

As he headed to the corner to practice, I felt the urge to do the same. During our spar, I had noticed several flaws in my technique that needed refining. However, just as I was about to return to my previous training spot, knights began to approach me with compliments, expressing their eagerness to spar with me. How could I decline such a courteous request from a noble knight?

And that's when I began to head back to my room. My entire body was aching; I had lost count of how many times I had sparred with the knights. However, after the twelfth spar, I started to gain experience. I began to win our spars, and with time, I even started to enjoy them. Noticing my rapid progress, they sent increasingly stronger opponents my way. Eventually, their duty and rumbling stomachs forced them to leave the courtyard, but not before they declared that tomorrow they would bring even more skilled friends.

They wish to see me falter and be overcome, but I embrace the challenge, for it will only sharpen my skills and enrich my combat experience. I have observed that I've advanced more in this single sparring session than in the entire previous year. Previously, I knew only how to swing a sword; now, I understand the timing and placement of each strike to compel my opponents into submission. However, I recognize that a real battle differs greatly, and with war on the horizon, I am determined to amass as much experience as possible.

*****

After bathing for the second time in the morning and changing my clothes, I began walking toward the dining room for breakfast. Strolling through the corridors of the Red Keep, I noticed Rhaenyra approaching from the opposite direction. I paused, waiting for her to draw near, as the dining room was to our left. As she approached, she offered a smile and greeted me with a "Good morrow, my lord."

"Good morrow to you as well, Princess," I returned her greeting. Together, we proceeded towards the dining room. Upon arrival, I noticed the King's Guard stationed at the doors. Recognizing our approach, they greeted Rhaenyra and me, then opened the doors. I gestured for her to enter first, and with a graceful step, she moved into the room, offering me a smile before continuing.

I followed her into the room and made my way toward the vacant chair beside Aemma. I observed Otto and Alicent engaged in conversation with Viserys and Rhaenyra, respectively. Settling into my seat, I turned to Aemma, who was watching Alicent and Rhaenyra converse, and greeted her, "Good morrow, Queen Aemma. How do you fare this wonderful morning?"

She turned toward me, smiling, and said, "Good morrow, Lord Drakonar. Thanks to you and Vezofina, this morning is far better than any I've had in a long time." She then recounted how Vezofina had come to her early in the morning, demanding food, and after being fed, sang a song and departed for the Kingswood. She assured me that if I needed anything during my stay, I should not hesitate to ask, expressing her deep gratitude for my assistance. After acknowledging her offer, our conversation shifted to the realm's affairs. She began to describe the ongoing preparations for the upcoming tourney, as Viserys is confident that his heir will be born this time. Amidst our discussion, she started to pray to the Seven, hoping for a son, fearing she may not withstand another pregnancy.

"Don't worry, Vezofina's voice isn't the only thing that can heal others. You will survive and give birth this time; I'll make sure of it. And even if I don't, Vezofina is with you, and believe me, no one can stop her when she sets her mind to something. I know better than others," I said to her, laughing at the end. She thanked me for my support with a smile so kind that I decided the timeline could go to hell for all I cared. In this cutthroat world, we need kind people like her, and I'm determined to save this woman.

After Corlys and Daemon entered the room and took their seats, breakfast was served. We began to eat, enjoying the peaceful silence, which was abruptly interrupted by Viserys not a minute later.

Today, I won't request a power stone. Instead, I want to share that I'm facing some financial difficulties. Despite the generous support from many readers on Patreon, my withdrawals have been temporarily suspended. I don't wish to take up much of your time, but I ask for your support just this once. I assure you this situation will not recur again. I've created a Buy Me A Coffee account to enable instant withdrawals. If you're unable to locate my account, I will include a link in my synopsis.

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Please consider supporting me on Buy Me A Coffee. This fanfiction was my first attempt, and due to my inexperience, I made many errors. Consequently, I've pondered how to gratify those desiring a fantasy setting ASOIAF/HOTD fanfic. I've found the best solution and planned to surprise you by instantly releasing ten chapters on Webnovel. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, and to pique the interest of readers eager for this fanfic, I'm compelled to disclose my writing plans for this week. Rest assured, this fanfic will not be neglected, as I spend my entire day writing.

There are few fics about self-inserts with the powers of Percy Jackson in ASOIAF. However, none feature Laenor Velaryon as the protagonist, and this time I won't make him overpowered. I'll take it slow, and Percy's powers will be toned down. No disrespect to any gender, but SI-Laenor will be interested in girls.

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