Ranger Prince Daemon

Chapter 19: The Ranger Prince -- Daemon

"We'll see."

Shiryu clasped his hands behind his back indifferently.

As it turned out, the judgment of a master swordsman was sharp enough.

Within five minutes, Xilong's sword swings slowed considerably, and he stopped the meaningless pursuit.

The Dornishman grinned, knowing it was time to counterattack.

Using the same tactic as his previous fight with Burter, he circled Xilong, maintaining distance while thrusting with his spear.

Xilong defended with his sword, but even the most vigilant could slip up.

The Dornishman feinted maliciously, luring Xilong into attacking.

At the moment of apparent victory, the Dornishman reversed his grip and struck with a "Golden Rooster shakes its head three times," blinding Xilong in one eye.

"Ah! I surrender, stop the duel!"

Knowing the tide had turned, Xilong suppressed the intense pain and roared in humiliation, losing the will to continue fighting his opponent.

The terrible example of Burter's defeat was too fresh in his mind; he didn't want to follow in his footsteps.

With Xilong's surrender, the Dornishman's arrogance surged. He flaunted his victory and taunted relentlessly, showing no regard for the other Knights present.

He had come here precisely to put these noble lords in their place.

As for the consequences?

Heh, since he dared to come, he naturally had his backing.

On the high platform, Viserys stared with terrifying intensity at the Dornishman pounding his chest, his knuckles white as he gripped the armrests of his chair.

"Damn Dornishman, find a powerful Knight to kill him!"

He commanded Lyonel.

"No problem, Your Majesty."

Lyonel dared not delay and headed backstage to find a Knight capable of defeating the Dornishman.

There were many participants in the tournament; the Dornishman wouldn't be able to show off for long.

In a corner, Rhaegar turned away with a grim expression, unwilling to watch the spectacle of the Dornishman acting like a performing monkey.

"Don't be angry. That Dornishman is quite skilled and clever. Most people wouldn't be able to beat him."

Shiryu spoke calmly.

"I know. The Kingdom has countless warriors. That fellow down there will be defeated sooner or later."

Rhaegar's tone was firm.

"Yes, every powerful warrior has their unique way of fighting."

Shiryu's tone shifted. "If I were to face that Dornishman, the best approach would be to feign weakness, expose an opening to let him attack first, and then seize the opportunity to counterattack."

Rhaegar looked at him with a strange expression. "What, you want to go on stage?"

"A wandering swordsman doesn't draw his sword lightly, unless he has a good reason,"

Shiryu's lips curved slightly as he glanced meaningfully at Rhaegar.

"What do you want? To apply for a dancing teacher position at the Red Keep?"

Rhaegar was not surprised that the other man had revealed his intentions.

Shiryu knelt on one knee and said sincerely, "If the Prince wills it, Shiryu can remain at the Red Keep as a dancing teacher."

"Why?"

"No reason. I want to, so I will."

Rhaegar raised an eyebrow. "That reason won't do. I wouldn't dare keep a dangerous person in my own home."

Shiryu pondered for a moment and replied, "You are the eldest son of King Viserys I, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. Your status and potential are worthy of my loyalty."

"That's a decent reason, but it still lacks sincerity."

Rhaegar still didn't trust him and warned, "And another thing, the heir to the Iron Throne is my sister. I have no intention of competing with her for that position, and no one should try to sow discord between us siblings."

With that, Rhaegar turned and left, not even glancing at Shiryu.

This person had appeared too suddenly, deliberately approaching him from the very beginning.

Snatching pastries to showcase extraordinary skill, offering insightful commentary on duels.

Everything was aimed at highlighting his value to Rhaegar.

Unfortunately, he had revealed his purpose too early.

Did he really think Rhaegar was an ignorant child?

Did he believe that by virtue of his superior status and radiating an aura of dominance, people would immediately bow down and pledge their allegiance?

"Low-class tactics, malicious intent. The next time you see Shiryu, throw him straight into the dungeon."

As he walked towards Rhaenyra's position, Rhaegar complained indignantly to Illyric.

"Yes, Your Highness."

Illyric nodded in agreement, a hint of hesitation on his face.

Seeing his hesitant expression, Rhaegar asked curiously, "What is it, Sir?"

"As Your Highness said, Shiryu's methods were too crude, not befitting the wisdom of a skilled swordsman," Illyric voiced his doubts.

Rhaegar's eyes flickered. "A good swordsman isn't necessarily a good scholar."

Even so, he paid a little more attention.

Ever since the news of his recovery had somehow spread, the atmosphere in King's Landing had begun to shift.

From urging Princess Rhaenyra to marry...

To discussions about Rhaegar being favored by the White Hart, a symbol of royal authority, suggesting he had the makings of a king.

He believed it wouldn't be long before some minister lost patience and advised the King to revoke Rhaenyra's claim as heir and instead name his eldest son, Rhaegar.

From Illyric, he learned that the reason Viserys had confined Rhaegar for half a year...

Was to prevent Rhaegar from facing too much criticism, which could affect his state of mind and make him susceptible to the influence of ill-intentioned people.

Rhaegar had no objections to this and accepted his father's good intentions.

Perhaps it was due to his young age.

Rhaegar wasn't very concerned about the succession to the Iron Throne.

Rhaenyra had been the heir for several years; why should he interfere and snatch something he didn't value?

"Hiss... caw..."

Suddenly, a strange roar echoed from afar.

Rhaegar looked up, his expression changing instantly.

A massive, scarlet figure appeared in the sky, approaching the jousting arena from a distance.

Sharp horns, a long, serpentine neck, broad, powerful red wings...

"That's a dragon!"

Rhaegar instinctively cried out, gazing intently at the flying dragon.

The dragon's arrival wasn't noticed only by Rhaegar.

The spectators in the stands were swept by the powerful winds generated by the dragon's wings, their hair whipping around, their eyes unable to open.

Many ladies' skirts were accidentally lifted, offering a feast for the eyes of the gentlemen beside them.

The scene immediately took a sharp turn, with the crowd screaming and trying to flee the shadow cast by the dragon.

"Quiet! This is a dragon of House Targaryen! The King is with you, do not panic, do not run!"

Just then, a deep, powerful shout rang out, suppressing the panic in everyone's hearts.

It was a burly old man with white hair and a white beard.

Captain of the Kingsguard—Ser Harrold Westerling.

Beside him sat the King, enthroned.

Viserys's expression was calm, his gaze steady as he watched the dragon, exuding the aura of a true king.

The moment they saw the King, the crowd felt reassured, and the noisy scene began to calm down.

After a brief moment of fear, reason gradually returned.

Many people recognized the dragon's appearance and gasped.

"That dragon is Caraxes, Prince Daemon's dragon!"

"That's right, it's Caraxes! I fought alongside Prince Daemon once, I wouldn't mistake him."

"Look quickly, there's someone on the dragon's back! It's Prince Daemon..."

Caraxes, whose name had been called out, roared excitedly, spewing crimson dragonflame mixed with thick black smoke from its maw.

Under the watchful eyes of countless people, Caraxes circled the jousting arena three full times.

Only when the figure on its back gave a command did the dragon slowly descend onto the dueling ground.

As soon as Caraxes landed, it greedily eyed the once arrogant Dornish youth, extending its serpentine neck and exhaling hot air from its nostrils.

"R-reverend... Prince Daemon..."

Facing a dragon that looked ready to devour him, the Dornish youth was almost scared stiff.

Trembling, he backed away repeatedly, hastily bowing to the person on the dragon's back.

Thank you, Wannian Haishimian, for the 1600 coin reward.

Thank you, Wu Suo Bu Qu, for the 100 coin reward.

Thank you, Fanzhou Zhujiu, for the 100 coin reward.

Sincere thanks to all book friends who have given rewards, voted, and supported the work.

Note: Daemon's entrance should be more imposing; we can't neglect this rogue prince.