Sealord Steps In and the Layered Waves Sword Stance [Please Keep Reading]

"Duels are dangerous, Viserys," said the decrepit old Plestan, dressed in the dark brown attire favored by Braavosi nobles.

The humility on the surface could not hide the flash of shrewdness in his eyes.

Old Plestan looked more like a savvy innkeeper than the patriarch of a great house.

But these top Braavosi nobles were all old foxes. Mediocrity was merely camouflage.

Though House Prestayn was not one of the Three Great Houses, it still ranked among Braavos's top ten noble families and had investments in many industries.

"I have danced Water Dancing in the Moon Pool before. I know its dangers." Viserys looked at old Plestan.

This old Plestan was quite the master at stoking the flames.

With those words, he was trying to bind Viserys to the dueling stage.

"Accept him! Accept him, little Plestan!"

"Little Plestan, come out and duel!"

The Free Trade Cities were filled with free mercenaries and swordsmen, so duels were nothing unusual to the people.

Yoko Plestan's expression grew uglier and uglier. He was good at finding courtesans, dining and drinking, or managing insurance firms.

But when faced with a battlefield reeking of blood and stench, he did not dare show his face.

Besides, old Plestan had more than one son. Even if Yoko truly died, someone else could inherit his position.

Madmen. House Targaryen is full of madmen, Yoko cursed inwardly.

"Since that is the case." Old Plestan looked at Viserys. "My son Yoko is not skilled in the sound of steel. Even in a duel, it is permissible for a champion warrior to fight for his honor. You should know that we have stand-in children here."

Stand-in children were usually lowborn children raised by wealthy families, taking corporal punishment in place of their young masters when those masters made mistakes.

Old Plestan did not want to say any more. Since they had already become enemies, they had to use ruthless measures.

This Viserys was aggressive and eager to fight. He did not resemble an ordinary noble son, but rather that cruel and dangerous "Rogue Prince," Daemon.

After all, they were descendants of Aegon the Conqueror, famous for their fiery tempers.

The exiled Viserys was capable, ruthless, and, more importantly, loyal to his friends. A man like that was also a threat.

And House Prestayn had thoroughly offended the Exiled Dragon, so they could not leave any room for mercy.

"Coward!"

"Coward!"

"Cowardly Plestan!"

"Once there was a coward called King Plestan."

The sailors burst into laughter, especially the sailors from the crab boats of the Shivering Sea.

The surrounding sailors and merchants also began jeering.

The man himself would not duel, sending his servant out in his place.

People preferred watching nobles slaughter each other personally. If they all used champion knights, much of the fun was lost.

"Syrio?" old Plestan asked.

"Syrio will not fight," Viserys answered.

This was his personal grudge. He did not want to drag Syrio into it.

Old Plestan breathed a sigh of relief. Syrio had been the previous Sealord's chief swordsman, and his reputation was well known.

In present-day Braavos, aside from Kui Luo, the current Sealord's swordsman, few could contend with him.

Even if House Prestayn wanted to find a champion swordsman now, they could find no one comparable to Syrio.

If Viserys fought personally, the pressure on House Prestayn would at least be lighter.

Who should I choose? Old Plestan had already begun considering candidates.

The Preston family had money. They could buy off famous swordsmen.

"The Sealord is here!"

"The Sealord is here!"

A stir ran through the crowd. The Sealord arrived by canal beside Prestayn Palace aboard a pleasure boat covered in smiling faces.

Though the boat was not large, it was exquisitely crafted and represented the power of the Sealord of Braavos.

Viserys had caused such a sensation that the Sealord himself had come to the scene.

Sealord Ferrego, protected by the Sealord's Palace guards led by Kui Luo, climbed the steps and arrived beneath the domed gates of Prestayn Palace.

"What a lively day," Ferrego said unhappily. "You are making such a commotion that the waterways are blocked."

"Please forgive us, my lord Sealord," old Plestan immediately apologized.

They were actually acquainted. House Prestayn and House Antaryon were close by, but the Sealord was still the Sealord, and House Antaryon was stronger than theirs as well.

"What exactly are you doing?" Kui Luo, Sealord Ferrego's chief swordsman, demanded angrily. It was obvious that he had received the Sealord's instruction.

This Viserys Targaryen was restless even in exile. He really knew how to stir things up.

Though he was exceptionally talented, he was also a complete troublemaker.

"My friend Moro died at the hands of Mero, a guard of House Prestayn, who did so to threaten me. Little Plestan wanted to force me into signing an agency contract, and I refused—something like an insurance contract." Viserys answered calmly. "That is why I came bearing a gift and requested a duel with little Plestan."

"Is what he says true?" Sealord Ferrego asked. Though his voice was not loud, it carried unquestionable authority.

Yoko Plestan blushed. "My lord Sealord, there is a reason for this. I thought the Silver Traveler's songs were good, so I merely wanted Viserys to attend a banquet. I also wished to sign Viserys, but that was only because I valued talent. As for the Water Dancer, it is true that my subordinate struck too heavily."

"Enough." Sealord Ferrego snorted. "Little Plestan, you are not a very shrewd insurance broker."

"What should I call you—Silver Traveler, Violet Swordsman, or Viserys? You really are a troublemaker." Ferrego looked at Viserys.

Silver Traveler, Violet Swordsman—no, they were all Viserys.

From this day onward, the news would continue spreading. Viserys had truly made a name for himself.

"Just call me Viserys," Viserys answered.

Sealord Ferrego looked carefully at the dead fish's head again. "This is your gift, Viserys Targaryen?"

"Yes." Viserys nodded.

"Enough. This farce is over. I suggest that you all return to your proper places," Ferrego said.

This was a duel between two parties, not something authority could stop. He could only offer a suggestion.

"My lord Sealord, we have already decided on a duel," Viserys said.

"That is right. This duel concerns the honor of House Prestayn as well," old Plestan stressed.

"Very well. Since you are so stubborn, regardless of the outcome of this battle, I will proclaim a decree." The Sealord touched the ring on his hand. "For the sake of fairness, House Prestayn may only choose a champion knight from within the family, and the same applies to Viserys."

With the Sealord's decree, neither side could seek powerful outside assistance.

Famous swordsmen usually worked independently rather than as hired household guards. As for Viserys, he would not be allowed to use Syrio either.

The Sealord had considered this battle carefully.

"I will represent myself," Viserys replied.

"Then Mero will serve as my son's champion knight." Old Plestan spoke. Mero was in his prime; though rough, his skill was beyond question.

Mero was a dangerous killer, and both older and larger than Viserys. Normally, such a man would have intimidated others into not fighting.

House Prestayn believed victory was already within reach.

"Then it is settled. The duel will be held at the Moon Pool in seven days. Seven is said to be a sacred number. My swordsman Kui Luo, Syrio, Black Pearl, old Plestan, and the others will serve as witnesses."

"Gladly. Thank you, my lord Sealord. Seven days from now." Viserys nodded. If it was Mero, that made things easier.

"Thank you, my lord Sealord," old Plestan answered as well.

"Silver-haired brat, I hope you do not die as miserably as that Moro." Mero grinned viciously.

"I think you will die far more miserably."

Sealord Ferrego resolved these troubles in a few words. Since they wanted to fight to the death, he would let them.

He was tired.

After the Sealord intervened and the duel date was set, the crowd was still left wanting more. It would surely be a spectacular fight.

The once-noisy scene gradually fell quiet, and the large fish head was taken away by House Prestayn's people.

"Let's go," Syrio said softly to Viserys. "Time is short. Titan's Bastard may hire someone to train him. And you—I think you should study Falling Tide, Layered Waves. That kind of beauty."

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