Do you understand?" Ser Willem Darry asked.
Viserys Targaryen nodded gravely.
This seemingly simple strike was, in fact, the culmination of his decades of swordsmanship experience.
How to use the least amount of force, at the most tricky angle, with the fastest speed, to attack the enemy's weakest point, all required practice.
Every swordsman needed to spend years, or even decades, to hone this unique move of their own.
Whether he could abandon complex techniques and master this simple yet deadly killing blow meant whether Viserys Targaryen could successfully graduate from his training.
Just as he was about to spar with Ser Willem Darry, Rhaenys Targaryen, with her short legs, excitedly ran in holding a small sword.
She had two dark hair buns on her head, and a patch of undried milk stain still clung to her rosy little face.
"Emperor Uncle, I want to practice too. I want to personally chop off the head of the rebel Robert!"
As she spoke, she brandished the short sword, no bigger than a sewing needle, in the air, amusing the surrounding guards who burst into laughter.
Viserys Targaryen rubbed his forehead, a helpless expression on his face.
His niece truly gave him no peace of mind.
He wondered who had told her the reason for her father Rhaegar Targaryen's death.
The little girl would constantly clamor for revenge for her father Rhaegar, always playing with swords and spears.
Not only did she lack the refinement of a royal princess, but she also displayed the lawless traits of Dornish women to the extreme.
"Uncle needs to practice. Why don't you go make candy figures with Daenerys!" Viserys said affectionately, pinching her little cheek.
However, this little terror directly plunged into Viserys's embrace, clutching his sleeve tightly: "Uncle is lying! Daenerys has no strength at all, she just reads books all day!"
Seeing Rhaenys Targaryen's defiant attitude, Viserys rolled his eyes and could only reluctantly put away his longsword.
Viserys knew that if he just handed the playful Rhaenys Targaryen over to his sister, he would be free to practice his sword.
Otherwise, with this little devil messing around, he wouldn't be able to do anything!
"Then Uncle will take you to play!"
Viserys and Ser Willem Darry exchanged a glance, and the soldiers on both sides immediately understood, turning and leaving.
"Yay!" Rhaenys Targaryen jumped with joy.
Ever since she left King's Landing and came to Dragonstone, she had hardly any playmates.
Besides her aunt Dany, who was still an infant, only her uncle Viserys occasionally played with her.
Looking at his niece, who was not much younger than himself, Viserys could only dotingly pick her up and walk towards the Picture Hall.
At this time, Daenerys Targaryen was likely there, learning royal etiquette with the septa.
Viserys knew that although Rhaenys Targaryen outwardly disliked Daenerys, she treated Daenerys like a younger sister in their daily lives.
Compared to the mischievous terror who often turned the Dragonstone fortress upside down, Daenerys Targaryen was incredibly ladylike.
As the two were speaking, *bang* — the sound of a bowstring erupting echoed, and a blinding flash of light appeared in the darkness.
*Pfft* — Immediately after, the captain of the guard leading the group was shot through like a fragile piece of paper.
A sharp arrow directly pierced the wall in front of Viserys, shimmering with a chilling, dead light.
Warm blood splattered on Rhaenys's face, scaring her mind blank; she even forgot to cry!
No one expected danger to arrive so suddenly.
"Enemy attack!"
Before the surrounding guards could even shout, Viserys covered Rhaenys's small mouth and rolled into a nearby bedroom.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"
Immediately after, countless blow darts rapidly flew out, and the corridor was filled with the sound of guards falling to the ground.
Before long, few of the guards behind Viserys remained.
Using the glint of blades, Viserys's gaze swept past the corner of the corridor, revealing several burly men in mercenary leather armor, gleefully wielding hand crossbows and wantonly hunting down the wounded guards on the ground.
"Damn it, the enemy actually scaled the cliff of the Dragonstone Great Hall and came up from behind the Picture Hall!" Viserys Targaryen's face turned cold.
At this time, the Royal Navy was still fighting the Iron Fleet at sea, and no one expected that a mercenary force would slip in under the cover of the chaos.
Seeing their well-organized hunting operation, Viserys knew that they were here for him.
"Your Majesty, you go first!" The young guard drew his longsword from his waist and charged towards the approaching mercenaries.
Upon hearing this, Viserys did not hesitate for a moment.
He turned and ran, holding Rhaenys Targaryen.
However, the next moment, several blow darts flew towards Viserys and Rhaenys.
Fortunately, Viserys slipped, narrowly and precariously dodging the hidden weapons.
Even so, a few strands of hair on his forehead were shorn off.
"Damn it, I missed!" The leading mercenary cursed under his breath.
He drew his longsword and strode forward quickly.
*Clang!* Swords clashed, and in just one round, Viserys's guard was cut in two by him.
"So strong!" Viserys Targaryen's face changed drastically.
This was definitely not an ordinary mercenary!
This team was absolutely the trump card Robert Baratheon had carefully selected!
He had originally thought that Robert Baratheon's alliance with the Iron Fleet, constantly weakening his Royal Navy at sea, was already a stroke of genius.
He hadn't expected that he had still underestimated the man from across the Narrow Sea!
He had even arranged for the Iron Fleet to cooperate in advance.
This decisive strike was definitely a long-planned decapitation operation by Robert Baratheon!
As Viserys Targaryen was thinking this, with a "bang," the door to the Picture Hall was actually shut!
Instantly, Viserys's face turned ashen.
There was more than one assassination team within Dragonstone; he was now caught between a rock and a hard place.
The guards outside didn't know, the guards inside couldn't get out, Viserys was trapped like a turtle in a jar!
"Damn it!" Looking at his niece Rhaenys Targaryen, who was trembling with fear in his arms, Viserys could only cut down the candle with his sword, plunging the entire bedroom into darkness.
"Rhaenys, listen, hide here and don't run!" Viserys whispered, pressing his niece's small head.
At this point, Viserys could only hide Rhaenys in a secret chest first, and then find a way to break out alone for help!
"Mmm!" Rhaenys's face was pale with fright, and she nodded repeatedly.
After hiding Rhaenys, Viserys carefully groped through the darkness, sticking close to the wall, and exited the bedroom.
"Hmph, what kind of damn natural chasm cliff? If King Robert was willing to give me a team of good men, I could take down these so-called dragon kings' little hideouts!" A mercenary grumbled discontentedly: "If he hadn't insisted on sending an extra small team, exposing my whereabouts, it wouldn't be this troublesome!"
Upon hearing this, Viserys's heart suddenly trembled, and the courage he had just mustered for a sneak attack instantly vanished completely.
Hearing that familiar complaint, who else could it be but the mercenary Bronn?