The Mad King Appears

"This ignorant brat!"

Tywin's face turned ashen.

Seated high upon the Iron Throne, he felt a sense of powerlessness, as if cornered.

"Do you know what a trial by combat signifies?"

Tywin's throat felt constricted, a breath he needed to exhale.

Daeren met his gaze directly. "Someone taught me history, and I learned it well."

Hearing this, Tywin's thoughts immediately grew complicated.

Who was it that lectured him on history day and night, solely to glean lessons from the past?

Who was it that poured their heart into teaching, finding a pride and joy in his student's enlightenment that he'd never experienced even when teaching his own children?

Now it seemed, the other party had truly grasped the essence, striking back with all his might against provocation.

Tywin said gravely, "I ask you one last time, do you truly wish to request a trial by combat?"

"That's right!"

Daeren was fearless. Under the gaze of countless eyes, the potent aura brought by his abundant Vitality gradually unfurled.

At this moment, he was like a great dragon with extraordinary life potential, an oppressive force upon everyone around him without discrimination.

"Vitality?"

Barristan's eyes lit up, displaying a keen sensitivity to Vitality.

Ser Gerold: "Extremely high concentration of Vitality, but it seems he hasn't fully mastered it."

At their level, discerning a person's strength was as simple as eating and drinking.

The two could tell that Daeren's Vitality was exceptionally rich, a rare sight.

However, it was also one of the factors preventing him from mastering its use quickly.

After all, everyone's Vitality levels differed.

The stronger the Vitality, the harder it was to wield with ease.

"The last person with such Vitality was Prince Rhaegar."

Barristan felt a sense of shared pride and comfort.

The Kingsguard were deeply tied to the Targaryens, naturally wishing for them to be as strong as possible.

Ser Gerold's gaze was scrutinizing; he wanted to say something but habitually remained silent.

Unlike the two well-traveled Kingsguard, the noble lords present could no longer contain themselves.

"It's Vitality..."

"He's still so young..."

Apart from the noble lords in the front row feeling the pressure, the rest seemed to have been injected with stimulants, their gazes fixed on the silver-haired figure at the center of attention, secretly excited.

While special crops and even livestock for special products were rare, they could still be found on the continent.

But warriors who had mastered their own Vitality could be counted on one's fingers.

Anyone who mastered Vitality was a strong individual ahead of their time.

Any knight who mastered Vitality and chose to serve a lord would be treated as an honored guest, enjoying extremely high privileges.

"No wonder Prince Daeren dared to propose a trial by combat."

"Exactly, exactly..."

The noble lords murmured amongst themselves. Many noble young ladies, who had accompanied their parents, looked at Daeren with shining eyes, wishing they could shout that the Prince was wronged.

They could discern right from wrong themselves.

"Is this the foundation you rely on?"

While finding the situation troublesome, Tywin also felt a surge of anger. "Since you want a trial by combat, then I shall grant it to you."

"All those beneath the Iron Throne, who is willing to step forward to fight!?"

The Lannister soldiers and a host of Westerlands knights sweated on their foreheads, lowering their heads in tacit understanding.

Me, facing a Prince who has mastered Vitality? Are you kidding me!

"Brother, let me!"

"My Lord, I am willing to fight!"

Still, there were those who supported him. Two men with golden curls spoke in unison.

One was burly, clad in golden armor in the Lannister style, his long, abundant golden curls and strong features revealing a fierce demeanor.

Tywin's third brother, Tygett Lannister.

The other was slightly shorter, dressed in fine robes embroidered with gold thread. He appeared slightly older and had less hair.

The only appealing feature about him was his pair of deep-set eyes, which gave off an aura of composure and wisdom.

Tywin's second brother, Kevon Lannister.

As soon as the two brothers squeezed out of the crowd, they rushed to volunteer for the fight.

"Brother, let me go, let me smash him."

Tygett was tall and burly, with a rather rough personality.

Tywin ignored him and turned to his second brother, Kevon, whom he had always trusted.

"My Lord, if I fight, I will surely avenge Gillian and let the world know that Lannister always repays its debts."

Kevon stepped past his third brother and knelt directly before the Iron Throne.

Tywin nodded slightly, "Very well, you shall represent the Iron Throne."

"Brother..."

Tygett was anxious.

"Silence!"

Tywin's sharp reprimand cut Tygett off.

Daeren watched with interest until Feng Kai stood up and said lightly, "Have you chosen your champion?"

Kevon did not fight immediately but sent someone to fetch his armor.

"Lad, I'll give you the same amount of time to put on your armor."

Tywin sat back down, exuding an air of confidence.

He had to admit that he, and the Lannister brothers of this generation, lacked the talent to be top knights.

His third brother, Tygett, might have been better, but his impetuous nature prevented him from achieving great things.

Therefore, a portion of the family's main resources had been channeled to his second brother, Kevon. After years of training, he had finally sensed his own Vitality, gaining combat power far beyond that of ordinary people.

Yes, Tywin now considered warriors who had mastered Vitality to be no longer ordinary.

Perhaps they were closer to gods, like the legendary "Mirror Shield" Savon, "Greenhand" Gyles, or the "Builder" Brynden.

Daeren glanced at Kevon, who was being helped into his armor by attendants, and calmly looked away.

This was not a frontal battlefield, and his fighting style did not favor the clumsiness of armor.

After about fifteen minutes, Kevon finally donned his copper-colored armor, which was more practical, though no less ornate.

"Come, let me collect my debt from you."

Kevon's expression was solemn as he drew his longsword and took a stance.

"Prince..."

"Ser Barristan, lend me your sword..."

Daeren and Barristan spoke at the same time.

RUMBLE!

Suddenly, the hall doors slowly opened, and a herald's voice rang out.

"King Aerys II of House Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm..."

It was Ser Jon.

He pushed open the hall doors, announcing loudly as he escorted the King.

Daeren turned back in surprise.

He saw his father, Aerys, his face ashen, supporting his emaciated frame as he walked into the hall. He exuded a frailty that suggested a gust of wind could blow him over.

Aerys was unwell and had arrived in a hurry. He wore his purple sleeping robe without changing and only a crown on his head.

"Your Majesty..."

"It's the King, the King has finally arrived..."

As if he were some monstrous beast, the nobles and lords immediately fell silent, collectively shrinking back a distance.

They had been relieved that the King was not present, keeping the situation within controllable limits.

Now that the King had arrived, anything could happen.

"Father?"

Daeren was filled with confusion, his gaze turning to Ser Jon.

Ser Jon looked somewhat guilty, lowering his head as he followed behind the King.

"I didn't know that while I was sleeping, someone dared to bully my son."

Aerys's eyes were bloodshot, his voice muffled and hoarse.

This time, Tywin could no longer sit still.