"And here I thought our Lannister lions were supposed to be something special?" Lancelot remarked with a sharp tongue.
Hearing his son dare to speak to him with such snark, Jaime grit his teeth.
"Today, we're going straight to live combat! Lancelot, let me show you the true power of a top-tier knight."
Jaime Lannister dragged Lancelot directly to the mock tournament grounds.
A long barrier made of bamboo rails split the track, separating the two riders.
They had to charge toward each other and use their lances to knock the opponent down or send them flying. The winner advances.
The last man left on his horse is the champion.
"Come on, brat, let me teach you a lesson!" Jaime grabbed the lance and shield handed to him by a squire, then looked at Lancelot provocatively.
Lancelot strapped on his helmet. Competing against Jaime in horsemanship required extreme caution—this was the only man crazy enough to charge a dragon on horseback, after all!
"Hyah!"
Jaime charged, looking like a lion on the hunt.
Although Lancelot's horse was as tall as Jaime's, Lancelot himself was shorter, and his reach couldn't compare to Jaime's.
So, in the very first round, Jaime knocked him off the horse. He landed on his back, but he was fine.
Picking himself up from the dirt, Lancelot took off his helmet and looked up at Jaime, who was laughing heartily from his saddle.
"Do you understand your father's power now?"
This was the first time Jaime had openly admitted to being his father in front of him.
"Old man, you're over thirty. Do you still think you're invincible?" Lancelot retorted stubbornly.
"Looks like you're not convinced. If you're not convinced, let's go again! I'll beat you until you are." The corner of Jaime's mouth hooked up into a smile as sharp as a blade.
"Bring it on! Who's afraid of who?"
---
That day, Lancelot and Jaime sparred all afternoon. In the end, Lancelot had to be carried home on a stretcher.
His whole body ached. Nothing was broken, but he was covered in bruises.
However, thanks to Lancelot fighting so hard, the Lannister soldiers watching contributed a massive amount of Popularity Points.
Coupled with the rumors spreading about his participation in the tourney, Lancelot's Popularity Points had now hit 980.
"Time for the exciting part. Let the draw begin! Spin!"
The wheel began to spin rapidly. After five breaths, Lancelot shouted for it to stop.
The needle landed on a small cat.
> Prosperity Cat: Brings financial luck to its owner.
An orange and white cat appeared on Lancelot's bed.
"Brings financial luck... that will definitely be useful later. I'll give you a name. Let's call you Kate!"
"Meow, meow, meow!" Kate curled up on Lancelot's quilt and went straight to sleep.
"I still have 880 points. Let's do an eight-spin draw."
The wheel spun again. After eight rounds, Lancelot received the following items:
100 Gold Dragons (x1)
1,000 Silver Stags (x1)
Books (x2)
Necklaces (x3)
Heart Guard (x1)
The Gold Dragons and Silver Stags needed no explanation; they were just the common currency of Westeros.
The two books were language guides.
One was High Valyrian, the other Dothraki. Both contained translations into the Common Tongue of Westeros, along with phonetic annotations.
"Learning two extra languages is a good thing. I'm not sure if my pronunciation will be right, but if I get stuck, I can always go ask Grand Maester Pycelle," Lancelot thought.
The three necklaces were: one Valyrian steel chain, one ruby necklace, and one sapphire necklace.
As for the final item, the Heart Guard, it was a plate made of a special metal. There were two pieces, designed to be worn over the heart on the chest and back. The material was incredibly hard yet lightweight. Lancelot wondered if it was made of Valyrian steel.
After all, items like hidden heart-protectors didn't seem very common in this world.
---
Over the next few days, Lancelot continued to train relentlessly with Jaime at the mock grounds. Sometimes Joffrey and Myrcella would come to watch.
Every time Lancelot slammed into the ground, kicking up dust, Myrcella would wear a look of worry and fear.
"If you're worried, just say so. Tell Uncle Jaime to go easy on him. He loves you the most!" Joffrey teased, looking at Myrcella with amusement.
Myrcella had always liked tagging along behind her cousin Lancelot.
Since Joffrey had been so cruel as a child, if Lancelot hadn't been there to stop him, Joffrey really would have cut open cats to see the kittens inside.
"Brother Lancelot will definitely become the champion of the tourney. If he wins, will he crown me the Queen of Love and Beauty?" Myrcella drifted into a daydream.
Crash!
Lancelot was knocked off his horse by Jaime again. This time, he landed headfirst. His neck twisted, though thankfully, it didn't snap.
"Brother Lancelot!"
Seeing this, Myrcella rushed straight onto the training field. Joffrey and Jaime hurried over as well.
"Are you okay? Brother Lancelot!" Myrcella asked, her voice trembling with tears.
"Are you alright? Lancelot, I used too much force just now!" Jaime asked, genuinely scared.
Lancelot's skills had improved so fast over the last few days that Jaime had instinctively used his full strength, nearly breaking the boy's neck.
"I'm fine... I'm still alive!"
Lancelot struggled to pull off his deformed helmet, revealing a bloody face. He had a cut on his head, and two streams of blood ran down his cheeks and nose into his neck.
"Quick, call the Maester! Lancelot! Don't you dare die on me!"
Even Joffrey was frightened; it was the first time he had seen someone actually bleeding like this.
Eventually, Lancelot was sent to Grand Maester Pycelle for treatment.
Pycelle was over ninety years old, ancient even for a Maester.
However, his medical skills hadn't faded. He stopped Lancelot's bleeding and bandaged the wound.
"Lancelot, the bleeding isn't severe, and the cut isn't deep. However, your cervical spine may have suffered a shock. I suggest you stop training for a few days. Ideally, do not participate in the tourney!"
Out of professional duty, Grand Maester Pycelle offered his advice.
"Thank you for treating me, Grand Maester. But I will still participate in the tourney. If you want to help me, spread the word that I am competing while injured! I would be very grateful!"
Although Pycelle didn't know why Lancelot made such a strange request, he did as asked.
---
That night, before going to sleep, Lancelot fed Kate some dried fish. Then, he checked his stats.
> Name: Lancelot Lannister
> Identity: Eldest grandson of Tywin Lannister; Biological son of Kingslayer Jaime Lannister; Adopted son of Tyrion Lannister.
> Class: Novice Knight
> Strength: 10
> Speed: 10
> Intelligence: 10
> Spirit: 10
> Mana: 10
> Talent: Skinchanger
> Popularity Points: 800
"Sure enough, getting beaten up works. The more I get hit, the faster I improve. Now my Strength and Speed have hit the limit for a normal adult."
"Tomorrow is the tourney. I have 800 Popularity Points left. Let's use them all!"
Before drawing, Lancelot held up Kate the Prosperity Cat and offered a prayer to the Seven.
"Seven preserve me! Lord of Light, bless me! Please let me draw something good!"
The wheel spun slowly, then gradually picked up speed. After ten breaths, Lancelot called stop.
The final eight draws yielded the following eight items:
500 Gold Dragons (x1)
5,000 Silver Stags (x1)
Book of the Lord of Light (x1)
The Seven-Pointed Star (x1)
Grimoire of Pyromancy (x1)
Grimoire of Hydromancy (x1)
Grimoire of Shadowbinding (x1)
Akhal-Teke Stallion (x1)
The first two were Gold and Silver, just more than last time.
The Book of the Lord of Light and The Seven-Pointed Star were common religious texts. Every septon had a copy of the Seven-Pointed Star, so it was worthless. As for the Red God's book, it was written in High Valyrian or Asshai'i, and Lancelot couldn't read it yet.
However, the next three items—the Grimoires for Fire, Water, and Shadow magic—were different. Only those with Mana could wield the power of fire, floods, and shadows.
Lancelot only had 10 Mana, which wasn't enough to become a self-taught sorcerer, but he kept the grimoires for future use.
The final item, the Akhal-Teke Stallion—often called a "Blood-Sweat Horse"—gave Lancelot a huge surprise.
It was right outside his door. A whinny sounded, seemingly calling for Lancelot to come out.
Lancelot immediately threw on his clothes and stepped outside. There stood a horse, eight feet tall, entirely red, and exuding pure dominance.
"A Horse King! This is absolutely a King among horses! Hahaha, with him, my chances of victory tomorrow are guaranteed!" Lancelot happily patted the stallion's mane. He leaped up, landing squarely on its back.
"Hyah!"