Under the moonlight, in the courtyard, Viserys was still chatting with his trainer, Roland.
Viserys's idea was to establish an offshore base upstream of Andas's water source, and then secretly contact the few remaining Royalists on the other side of the Narrow Sea.
"If we have a stronghold, it will still take time to build. And the longer The Usurper sits on the iron throne, the stronger The Usurper's power will become," Ser Roland Lake said with a hint of worry.
The construction of a new stronghold, recruiting soldiers, and buying horses all take time and effort.
Not to mention the harassment from bandits and Horse Riders (Dothraki).
And Westeros, anciently known as the Seven Kingdoms, the longer time passes, the stronger the Baratheon family's power will become.
Summer is fair to everyone, and both sides of the Narrow Sea will enjoy its nourishment.
Even excluding the marginalized Riverlands and the discontented Dornish, the overall strength of the iron throne remains very strong.
"There will be a turning point," Viserys said. "This matter cannot be rushed."
The restoration of an exiled king is the most hellish task in the world; it's not something that can be achieved simply and quickly.
Sufficient soldiers, food, and people—none can be lacking.
Viserys was prepared for a long war and was strengthening his power day and night.
What was terrifying was not only The Usurper and his allies, but also the strange mages and Others who would arrive with the magical tide in the future.
To achieve a complete victory, system cheats and cautious development were the correct answers for this version of reality.
To counterattack and grow stronger, impatience was the most inappropriate emotion.
Wait for opportunities, create opportunities, and seek opportunities.
If his attributes reached a certain level, Viserys felt that perhaps he could make the Blood-Weeping Red Comet appear earlier.
It was normal for a restorer to wait ten or twenty years; Viserys was not that old, and he also had the foresight to grasp the future trends.
Because of Robert Baratheon and Cersei's antics, Robert divided his territory into three, and the arrogant Cersei's affair with the Kingslayer had planted many landmines.
Coupled with the behind-the-scenes instigation of "The Spider" and "Littlefinger," two schemers, the Baratheon dynasty, though seemingly strong, was riddled with cracks internally.
"Please trust me, Ser Roland. Tywin and the Tyrell family have been excluded from the court; they are not people who can sit still. The enemy is not a monolith, and we are not a lone army at the end of its rope," Viserys said confidently.
Many people could see these larger trends, but for a teenager to articulate them versus an older person, the effect was entirely different.
At least in terms of wielding power, Viserys had already demonstrated his sagacity.
"Your Majesty is right," Ser Roland Lake still greatly trusted Viserys's vision. "Given the current situation, it is safer to remain still and observe."
As a collateral branch of a second-tier lord, he was not part of Rhaegar's inner circle of close friends. Ser Roland's position in the King's Landing court was very low, and he had no exposure to high-level power operations at all.
Now that Viserys had the ability to acquire money and connections, a true dragon who was beginning to show his capabilities was enough to convince Ser Roland.
"Prince Rhaegar was very talented. He was firm, composed, loyal, and sincere. But he was also a willful and gloomy person. You should learn from his strengths and discard his weaknesses to surpass Rhaegar and defeat The Usurper."
The elaborate schemes Rhaegar concocted were also not generally straightforward.
"Yes, I have long since confronted his failure. Rhaegar is dead; now it is my war, Viserys's war." Viserys looked at Ser Roland's face; the failed war had brought him much bitterness.
Ser Roland didn't have much strategy, but just like Sir William, this loyalty was enough.
If there was anyone Viserys knew with strategic vision, it might be Syrio, who had worked for the former Sealord for eight or nine years.
The First Sword not only protected the Sealord but also managed the Sealord's guard.
However, Syrio was a Braavosi after all, and not getting too involved in Westeros affairs was an unspoken understanding with Viserys. Viserys also wouldn't ask Syrio to join the restoration team.
Viserys still lived according to his own steps: spending on dragon bones, spending on high-end ingredients, then making money, practicing Water Dance and Steel Dance, and so on.
So-called great endeavors are inseparable from any small accumulation.
From time to time, Viserys also had to let his mulling's sword taste blood... In the middle of the night, at the Moon Pool in Braavos.
Those who remained there automatically formed a large circle; the inner circle was made up of boisterous assassins, and the outer circle consisted of unarmed spectators.
Some were simply watching for entertainment, some had placed bets, and some less famous Courtesans were also watching here.
Some Water Dancers would fight for Courtesans, similar to a guardian swordsman.
The higher the rank of such a swordsman, the more it would enhance the Courtesan's reputation.
The Water Dancers were as flamboyant and showy as peacocks displaying their feathers, dressed in splendid, colorful attire.
They wore various colored clothes and carried rapiers.
Dressed in red, purple, green, and gold, these people were as boisterous as Pentosis.
Viserys watched the Water Dancers fight from the shadows; their reasons for fighting were bizarre.
According to the Water Dancer's rules, anyone carrying a sword out at night was eligible to be challenged.
"Black Pearl is the most beautiful Courtesan," an assassin in a wine-red robe declared publicly.
"Nonsense, Nightingale is the most exquisite!" an assassin wearing green velvet jumped out.
"I challenge you," the assassin in the wine-red robe waved his hand.
"Come."
The two Water Dancers stood sideways, then simultaneously drew their rapiers, the blades glinting coldly.
The Water Dancers' movements were agile and elegant, and with their single-handed rapiers, thrusting and stabbing were their primary attack methods.
They used speed to find openings, then thrust in.
Their speeds simultaneously reached extreme levels, and Water Dancer duels usually didn't last too long.
This was not an exercise, but a real fight.
Because the assassins wore no armor, once they suffered a penetrating wound or a large cut, it could be fatal.
Viserys watched the two Water Dancers go back and forth by the Moon Pool, their blades whistling.
The clash of steel produced a powerful sound, followed by splashing blood.
"Oh."
"Kill him."
"Kill him."
"Black Pearl."
"Black Pearl." As the fight intensified, the onlookers erupted in a clamor, like boiling water.
Water Dancers competed in speed, agility, and flexibility—a waltz of death.
The green-robed swordsman's movement was a beat too slow; he stabbed the red-robed swordsman's arm, creating a wound.
But the wine-red robed swordsman's blade flicked upwards, and the tip pierced his opponent's heart.
"Ah!" Accompanied by a scream, the deceased fell limply to the ground.
Water Dancer duels were flamboyant and dangerous; some would spare an opponent who surrendered, but many would choose to fight to the death.
"Black Pearl is the most beautiful woman!" the wine-red robed swordsman shouted loudly, then sheathed his blade and began to collect belongings from around the deceased.
This was an unwritten rule, and no one criticized it.
These assassins loved to stir things up, finding any excuse to fight and make a name for themselves.
They argued over who had the best swordsmanship, who was the most beautiful woman, the best theater, or even whose clothes looked the best.
Ordinary assassins were impetuous and irritable, ready to kill at the slightest disagreement.
"The Blue Lantern is the best theater in Braavos."
"You're wrong, I think it's the Mummers' Ship."
Then followed another round of deadly combat, with Water Dancers challenging each other for various reasons.
Viserys waited for a long time and finally got his target.
Ordinary Water Dancers were no match for him; Viserys could now choose some more challenging opponents.
A Scarface Water Dancer was as brutal as a Stranger in the Moon Pool. He casually initiated duels, solely to prove his swordsmanship.
A sword wound had formed a crooked, centipede-like scar on Scarface's face, and his blood-red robe was redder than blood.
This Scarface Water Dancer was quite infamous; he was vicious and left no survivors in his duels.
He was considered one of the notorious figures in the Moon Pool duels.
"Scarface."
"Scarface." Many people called out this Water Dancer's name, and no Water Dancer dared to contend with him.
Scarface was somewhat smug; he carefully wiped his blade.
Just now, another challenger had died by his sword, and no one else dared to show their face.
"Does anyone want to compete with me? If not, I am the best swordsman tonight."
Sometimes, the Moon Pool would have successive fights among assassins, to select the First Sword of the night.
"I do." Viserys stepped out from the shadows.
Through the mask, his violet eyes remained unchanged.
"Violet Swordsman?"
Someone clearly recognized this challenger.
The bloodthirsty Violet Swordsman.
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