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Game Of Thrones: I Became a Crown Prince For a Day

[ In the prequel to Game of Thrones, titled "Dragon Family," Rhaegar defies the odds by surviving despite being destined to die young. Despite his sickness and loss of birthright, he refuses to surrender, embarking on a quest to explore and conquer the Seven Kingdoms. Along the way, he discovers the secrets of the Black Death's Skull, gaining a 50% increase in fire resistance from the dragon's legacy. He also encounters the auspicious white deer, receiving blessings for a long life. Delving into Blackfire and the Dark Sisters, he acquires the King's Gaze and the Knight's Oath. Rhaegar's journey sees him riding dragons, claiming the Iron Throne, and resisting the manipulations of opportunists. As winter approaches, he remains resolute, ready to face whatever challenges come his way atop his dragon steed. ] (*Important Note* In the original narrative (Lore), the one day heir prince was named Baelon, in honor of Viserys's father. However, the author, disliking the name Baelon, opted for Rhaegar, inspired by the Prince Rhaegar in Game of Thrones.) ("I don’t own this fanfic, it's merely a translation. I didn’t do the translation, but I wanted to read it on Webnovel, so I uploaded it here.")

MohaXx · 电视同人
分數不夠
694 Chs

Chapter 533: Volantis, Your Emperor is Back!

"Who's there?"

The door burst open, and two guards rushed in.

Rhaegar glanced at them and smiled crookedly. "Just the two of you?"

"You… it's you." The tiger-faced guards stared in astonishment at the man before them, their sword-wielding hands trembling.

Rhaegar's eyes gleamed as he smiled. "You recognize me."

The guard's eyes were filled with confusion, and he swallowed hard, slowly backing away behind his companion.

"Coward! Kill him!" The first guard pushed his partner aside and charged forward, knife in hand, a murderous look in his eyes.

"Reckless," Rhaegar muttered, picking up a shard of glass from a broken cup and throwing it back at him.

The guard took two steps forward before the shard slashed his neck. He clutched his bleeding wound, horror spreading across his face.

"Ho ho..." He turned to see his partner staggering out the door, already fleeing.

Rhaegar pulled up his hood and pursued the other guard, saying indifferently, "No one else wanted to do it, but you had to show off."

The first guard collapsed with a thud, blood pouring from his seven orifices as life drained from him.

...

The banquet hall was a scene of opulence and tension. Tesrio, nicknamed "Tiger," sat at the head of the table, his eyes scanning the gathered guests. He was one of the old nobles and a Triarch of the Tiger Party, representing the powerful elite of Volantis. Around him were several high-ranking officials of the Elephant Party, who controlled the affairs of the Free Cities.

"Bah!" Tesrio spat a mouthful of phlegm onto the floor, cursing the cook for the poor meal. He stretched out his large, calloused feet, slick with sweat. A slave girl knelt under the table, opening her arms to embrace his feet tenderly. Despite the prickly sensation of his sweat-soaked skin, she forced a smile, not daring to show any reluctance.

Tesrio grunted in dissatisfaction and twisted his toes, grabbing two peaches and crushing them with a cruel twist. His feet, like his upper body, were covered in tattoos that gave him a ferocious appearance. Born from the lower rungs of society, he treated those beneath him even more harshly.

"Tesrio, let's get down to business!" An old nobleman, his face sour, rapped his fingers on the table inlaid with gold thread. The powerful naturally looked down on the common people.

Tesrio's face darkened, and he kicked the slave girl back under the tablecloth, causing her to yelp in pain. "Where is the Triarch of the Elephant Party? Why isn't he here?" he muttered.

The old nobleman shook his finger disapprovingly. "Who knows? Perhaps he's afraid you'll kill him."

"Hmph, that's just cowardice," Tesrio replied arrogantly, showing no respect. He often mocked the old nobleman when he felt like it.

The old nobleman's face remained gloomy, but he dared not react, fearing retribution. The red priestess stood behind the old nobleman by a pillar, occasionally glancing at Tesrio's back. Two gray-robed water wizards flanked her, their hands crossed in their sleeves, surrounded by an unpleasant mist.

Tesrio's arrogance was bolstered by the support of Slaver's Bay, other Free Cities, and the water wizards recruited from Asshai. Wizards were rare in any era, and with a few water wizards to protect him, he felt invincible.

...

In the hall and corridor, a figure in a red robe stood silently, watching the scene unfold. Ignoring the passing servants, he observed the growing tension in the room. As the conversation continued, emotions escalated.

The old nobleman stood up and shouted, "Are you out of your mind? You're pitting all of Volantis against the Iron Throne. Remember what happened to the Triarchy!"

Tesrio's eyes narrowed. "Rhaegar the Cruel. He conquered the Triarchy, and sooner or later he will strike at Volantis."

"That's nonsense!" the old nobleman retorted, his mustache bristling. He resorted to foul language, his frustration boiling over. The discussion had reached an impasse; war seemed inevitable.

One side was an ambitious war party, the other cautious fence-sitters clinging to their territory. It was hard to tell who was right.

Pop!

Tesrio lunged at the old nobleman, smashing his head against the table. The nobleman's eyes widened in shock and disbelief before his head burst like a watermelon, adding a gruesome new dish to the table.

Several Elephant Party officials recoiled in terror, pushing their chairs back, fearing they might be next.

Tesrio wiped the blood from his face with a grim expression. "Who is for and who is against Volantis fighting the Iron Throne?"

The hall fell silent.

The Elephant Party officials trembled like quails, fearing the outcome. Volantis's defiance of the Iron Throne had turned it into the battleground together with the Slaver's Bay, and everyone knew war would bring disaster.

Tesrio, a mercenary who had long been exploiting Volantis and the Free Cities, would still live comfortably even if Volantis was reduced to ruins. But the wealthy Elephant Party officials, native-born Volantians, would become lackeys if their city turned into a wasteland.

Bang!

Tesrio slammed his fist on the table. "Speak up! Do you hear me?"

The Elephant Party officials trembled, on the verge of crying out. They realized they were nothing more than cannon fodder, and now even the old nobleman, a genuine Triarch, lay dead.

As the situation crumbled, a figure in a red robe stepped forward.

"Tesrio, do you remember me?" Rhaegar smiled, walking out leisurely.

Hulala...

A group of guards rushed out, surrounding the hall.

Tesrio looked at Rhaegar in surprise, his tiger-tattooed face showing signs of panic. He shouted, a mixture of anger and surprise in his voice, "Rhaegar Targaryen, you think this is the rat's nest of King's Landing, where you can come and go as you please!"

Despite his bravado, his legs were shaking. He had not forgotten who had put him in his position as Triarch.

"Everyone, go! Catch the traitor!" Tesrio motioned for the guards to arrest Rhaegar, silently stepping back to hide behind the two water wizards.

The guards, numbering no less than 20 or 30, all elite soldiers with tiger tattoos on their faces, surrounded Rhaegar, who stood alone.

"Surrender, Your Majesty..." the captain of the guards began, but froze, quickly swallowing back the words "Your Grace."

Swish!

The remaining guards drew back their swords and shields slowly, their expressions tense.

Rhaegar glanced at the Elephant Party officials and then looked sideways at the red priestess, calmly saying, "The allies you chose are really hard to describe."

The red priestess, cornered by two guards, barely managed to remain calm. "You are the true dragon. A hint of dragon's might is not something mere mortals can touch."

Internally, she was cursing the chaotic turn of events.

Rhaegar snorted and shook his head. "Then let me show you what a true dragon is like."

His manner was relaxed, his tone gentle. He was calm and collected, as if he were facing a chicken or a dog.

Plop!

Rhaegar's eyes narrowed, and the hanging lantern above his head crashed down, the candlelight spreading like a living spirit.

"Be careful!" Tesrio was startled and called out to the water wizards to fight the enemy.

"It's useless." Rhaegar smiled faintly. With a flick of his wrist, he drew Truefyre and drove the blade into the floor.

Boom!

Two red tongues of fire shot out from the center of the blade, enveloping the entire hall in an instant. The entire hall was sealed off by flames.

"Mother Rhoyne, give us your power..." The two water wizards' expressions changed drastically as they hurriedly cast their spells. First, they overturned the wine jugs, and the spilled wine began to change shape, summoning water magic to counter the restless fire.

"It's too late."

Rhaegar, as if he were in his own world, unsheathed his blade and dragged it across the floor, leaving scorch marks and trailing sparks. The surrounding guards, unable to withstand the intense heat, began to suffer from oxygen deficiency. Weapons clattered to the ground as the guards fell to their knees, rolling their eyes in agony.

Rhaegar paid them no heed and walked straight toward the two water wizards. He was no novice Dragonlord without a dragon. His mercy and reason had led him to abandon the dragons and avoid burning the city. But the moment he infiltrated the ruling building, the outcome was sealed.

"Old man in the river... river spirit..." The gray-robed wizard chanted fervently, and the liquid shapes of the spirits began to move in strange, twisted ways. Another water wizard was also struggling, attempting to draw water magic from the air to counter the heat wave.

"In the name of the Lord of Light, punish the heretics!" The red priestess suddenly emerged, taking a handful of powder from her chest and throwing it into the fire circle, causing the flames to intensify.

Pop!

The gray-robed wizard spat out a mouthful of blood, and the liquid humanoid he was conjuring crumbled into a puddle of water. Rhaegar glanced at him sideways and, with a swift motion, beheaded him with a single stroke. The black-haired head rolled to the ground, and the flames devoured the deathly expression.

"No! Don't come any closer!" The remaining water wizard was extremely nervous, desperately trying to intimidate Rhaegar by concentrating two ice spears in his palms.

Clang! Clang!

Rhaegar quickened his pace and shattered the ice spears with two swift slashes. "Die, bastard!" he spat. The black blade pierced through the wizard's mouth and out the back of his head. The corpse fell, blood sizzling and evaporating on the floor.

Rhaegar then turned his gaze to the last remaining adversary, Tesrio, a kind smile spreading across his face. "Rhaegar the Cruel?"

"Gulp..." Tesrio swallowed hard and drew his curved knife, trembling in fear.

...

Volantis, Outer City Wall

"Roar..." Caraxes crouched on the ground, perpetually on guard.

Robb approached the Blood Wyrm and shouted, "Your Grace, the King has been in the city for too long. We can't wait any longer."

Daemon sat on his saddle, his eyes fixed on the distant Black Wall. According to the plan, his nephew would take control of the government building and release the signal. It was already past noon, and there was still no news.

Robb, concerned for the king's safety, continued to plead, "Volantis is a tiger pit. We can't leave His Grace alone."

"Shut up, bastard," Daemon snapped, irritated by the incessant noise.

Robb fumed, tempted to throw House Blackwood crest in the prince's face.

Daemon's gaze remained fixed on the night sky over Volantis. He often wondered just how powerful his nephew truly was. The strength Rhaegar displayed at the tournament seemed too restrained, probably not even half of what he was capable of. Taking a city without the aid of a dragon would be a miraculous feat.

Suddenly, a burst of fire shot up into the sky. Within the Black Wall, the ruling building burned fiercely, illuminating the midsummer night of Volantis.

"Prince!" Robb exclaimed, instantly excited.

"Attack, Caraxes!" Daemon commanded.

The Blood Wyrm writhed into the air, a fearsome sight against the night sky.

Boom!

Dragonfire consumed the city gate, and Robb led the 600 men of the Second Sons into the city, their determined charge marking the beginning of the assault.

...

Inside the Black Wall

The fire blazed, illuminating the night like a second sun. Garrison soldiers and guards scrambled into action, while old and new nobles, along with wealthy merchants, fled in panic. A crowd began to gather near the building.

Bang!

The tightly shut door burst open, and several disheveled figures emerged, covered in dust and dirt. Behind them, Rhaegar strode forward, expressionless, brandishing his sword Truefyre, and dragging a half-dead body, its entrails trailing behind.

Someone with sharp eyes immediately recognized the body: "Tesrio! He's dead!"

Tesrio had lost an arm, his lower body was missing, and his eyes were wide open in terror. Rhaegar dragged him by one arm, leaving a trail of intestines on the floor.

More and more people gathered, drawn by the unexpected fire. Among them were senior officials and wealthy merchants, their hearts pounding as they stopped to watch. There were hundreds of them.

Rhaegar walked towards the crowd, his eyes unruffled. He flung the remains of Tesrio's corpse to the ground, every movement radiating arrogance.

Wow!

The crowd took a few steps back, their eyes finally recognizing the figure with silver hair and purple eyes. An uproar ensued.

Rhaegar tilted his head, wiped the blood from his cheeks with his fingertips, and said calmly, "Volantis, your emperor is back!"

Hoo-hoo!

A black dragon's shadow whistled past, descending upon the burning tower behind him. Its green pupils glowed like lanterns, guiding the souls of the dead.

(Word count: 2,122)