Hundreds of people gathered around the Moon Pool in Braavos to witness the death of either the exiled true dragon or the Titan's Bastard.
It seemed all the thrill-seekers of Braavos had come, as both duelists were highly talked about.
People stood shoulder to shoulder on the steps outside the Moon Pool, while the Orwyl's guards and Magistrates maintained order, clearing space for the duel.
Most people were there for the spectacle, the Crabfeeder to see Old Preston humiliated, and some assassins and Water Dancers to observe and gain experience.
After all, Viserys, the Violet Swordsman, and Mero, the Titan's Bastard, were both extremely dangerous killers.
To watch comfortably, many brought stools, and some even brought barrels to sit on.
The innermost circle was reserved for the Braavosi elite: the Orwyl, nobles, bankers, Courtesans, guild leaders, and famous Water Dancers.
Black Pearl, Syrio, Lingo, the Crab Tycoon, and the Daughter of Darkness, Moonshadow, Nightingale, The Swordswoman, and some Courtesans stood on Viserys's side, with Ser Roland tasked with protecting the two little ones.
Old Preston, naturally, also had his supporters; the Courtesan Mermaid Queen and members of the Insurance Association were his allies, along with some ancient nobles.
The Orwyl remained impartial, acting as a mediator.
"Who will win?" Orwyl Ferrego asked curiously.
"Hard to say," Quilo replied. "Both of them are very dangerous killers. Recently, Preston spent a fortune hiring swordsmen to train Mero, while Viserys seems to have been taken by Syrio to train at sea for a few days."
"This Viserys is truly a troublemaker," the Orwyl thought with a headache, finding him very good at stirring things up.
"Not just a troublemaker, but a genius," Quilo sighed. "Syrio has good judgment. I have never seen a beginner with no foundation master the Water Dance to such an exquisite level in such a short time."
"Go!"
"Go!"
"Beat him!" The onlookers began to cheer in unison, anticipating the exciting moment to come.
"You must win!" Little Preston said, praying for his victory.
Viserys appeared wearing a half-black, half-red garment. The mulla's was already waiting to drink blood.
"The Titan's Bastard is going to butcher you," Mero sneered at Viserys, holding a sword. While Mero's sword was also a rapier, it was longer and thicker than typical rapiers.
Mero hadn't been idle; he had recently been trained by renowned swordsmen, boosting his confidence.
"Perhaps I'll be the one to butcher you," Viserys said coldly. "I should avenge Moro."
The blazing flames of battle ignited around the two, both unarmored, in an unrestricted fight.
Both men sidestepped simultaneously, launching their attacks.
The beauty of the Water Dance was unique, but a rapier was equally dangerous.
Viserys immediately launched a furious assault, the mulla's sword faintly echoing with the sound of wind and thunder.
Mero felt somewhat bewildered. He remembered Viserys as being very cunning, known for luring enemies and counter-attacking. He hadn't expected Viserys to be the aggressor in today's duel.
But then Mero's thoughts shifted to joy. If this was the case, wasn't Viserys afraid of him, and thus launching a desperate offensive?
"This Viserys is too hasty," Quilo said. "He has an advantage in speed and should choose to lure the enemy into attacking, then deliver a killing blow after exhausting them. How can he attack directly like this?"
Longswords clashed together, emitting a piercing sound of steel.
The blades were extremely dangerous; a stab to the body would result in a wound.
Mero was somewhat surprised; the silver-haired youth's strength was much greater than he had imagined, which was very unusual.
"Die, little king, I hear your family is all gone," Mero shrieked.
"I don't speak to dead men," Viserys replied coldly.
The two exchanged blows, Viserys displaying the gentle swiftness of the Water Dance to its fullest.
"Truly splendid," the onlookers exclaimed, impressed by the high level of skill demonstrated by both sides in the fight.
Sword light swirled, illuminating the duelists' faces.
The sound of clashing steel was incessant, as the two chased each other by the Moon Pool.
Viserys was like a slippery mouse; Mero's blade couldn't touch him.
Instead, Viserys's blade darted left and right, already inflicting several wounds on Mero's body, the crimson blood staining his black clothes.
"Die!" Mero's mindset was growing frantic. If he continued to be entangled like this, he would eventually be worn down to death.
Mero wanted to leverage his larger build and strength advantage before his opponent could react.
So Mero shrieked, finally abandoning his circling movements.
Mero's rapier moved so fast that it created a magical blur, but only after Mero's deafening roar.
Metal met metal, longswords clashed together.
"Viserys!"
"Violet Swordsman!" Many cheered for him.
The Daughter of Darkness watched the changing battlefield calmly, while Nightingale and Moonshadow also widened their eyes.
Black Pearl even brought the two little ones, Daenerys and Rhaenys.
Viserys had steadily parried the attack and then jumped out of the encirclement.
The two fought again, Viserys swaying his body, Mero like a foolish fish being toyed with.
"Oh."
"Oh, he lost, someone lost!" The onlookers screamed wildly.
Mero's blade roared, employing the killing move he had recently mastered.
However, The Way of Insight was truly profound; the blade seemed to be mere inches from Viserys's chest, arm, and head, but it could never quite get ahead.
Such forceful moves, in fact, also slowly depleted one's strength.
"What's going on?" Old Preston was growing anxious. He had spent a fortune and would certainly not want to lose the duel and his reputation.
But his family guards, though seemingly formidable, couldn't even touch the opponent's hair.
Viserys, however, sped up, unleashing an even more frenzied flurry of sword moves.
The longsword danced like a torrential storm.
"How does he still have strength?" Quilo was somewhat surprised.
Strength is usually correlated with physique and age, and in both these aspects, Viserys was clearly younger.
In terms of strength, speed, and resilience, Viserys was truly outstanding.
Viserys began to feint, attacking to the left, and Mero hastily tried to compensate.
Unexpectedly, Viserys's blade danced wildly, already tearing a long gash across Mero's right thigh.
"Duel me!" Mero shouted.
Viserys aimed, then thrust. Under his elusive feints, Mero's wounds multiplied; long gashes appeared on his chest, abdomen, and legs.
Pain and the frustration of blood loss assailed Mero.
Viserys was as agile as a spirit cat. Mero attempted to cleave Viserys's face, but his speed had now become slower.
Viserys made another cut on Mero's thigh, astonishingly fast.
"Die!" Mero thrust forcefully, but both his thrusts and sweeping cuts were blocked by Viserys.
Viserys decided to end this game. He fiercely attacked the Titan's Bastard's vital points.
Mero's counterattacks were merely futile attempts. Mero watched the silver blade gleam, but he didn't know where it would strike next.
Viserys delivered a powerful blow, sweeping in to thrust directly into Mero's abdomen, then twisting forcefully.
A painful howl was heard, and Mero, the aggressor, collapsed on the dueling ground, his slick intestines spilling out like eels.
Viserys watched Mero's death, life like a farewell ceremony.
Mero pointed at Viserys with his finger, but lacked the strength to get up.
Viserys was covered in the smell of blood. He watched Mero's life force diminish little by little, so he plunged his sword into his heart and twisted it forcefully.
Viserys stood among the crowd, like a terrifying, bloody warrior.
"Bloodthirsty!"
"Bloodthirsty!" The onlookers cheered in unison.
"Andas," the Orwyl suddenly realized, thinking of a place to send this troublesome person.
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