Game of Thrones: Second Son of House Targaryen
Chapter 173: The Stairs Made Me Spin

Chapter 173: The Stairs Made Me Spin

Although Viserys and his group had already dispatched the guards outside the bell tower, more awaited them on the spiraling staircase within.

Swish, swish, swish!

Several crossbow bolts zipped through the air toward them, but their armor absorbed the impact, leaving them unharmed. However, the next moment, a squad of heavily armored swordsmen, clad in Kambron’s signature green, blocked their path. Everything from their cloaks to their armor bore the same distinctive shade, marking them as the Archon’s personal guards.

But Viserys had no time to admire the uniformity of their attire. In the confined space of the staircase, his halberd was cumbersome, its long reach more of a hindrance than a help. With only two viable attack options—thrusting and parrying—it was easy for an opponent to dodge. Recognizing this, Viserys adjusted his strategy.

He hefted the halberd to his ear and hurled it at the approaching swordsmen. The lead guard raised his shield, confident in his defense, but the halberd tore through both shield and armor with ease, impaling him. Shock filled the man’s eyes as he looked down at the weapon lodged in his stomach, disbelief written across his face.

‘What kind of monster is this?’ he thought, echoing the stunned expressions of his comrades. Even Conwyra and the others following Viserys were momentarily taken aback by his raw power.

A second later, Viserys drew his Valyrian steel sword and charged forward. The sight of him closing the distance so quickly was enough to send the remaining armored soldiers into a panicked retreat. But they hadn’t reckoned with Viserys’s speed. He caught up to them effortlessly, slashing at the vulnerable gaps between their helmets and armor. Though they wore chainmail beneath, it offered little protection against the razor-sharp Valyrian steel.

Two soldiers fell, their heads rolling across the stone floor. The remaining guards let out muffled screams of terror, realizing they were up against something far beyond their training.

With their spirits broken and bodies exhausted from the heavy armor and the climb, the remaining guards knew they couldn’t outrun Viserys. Under the crushing weight of both fear and fatigue, one of them collapsed to his knees, surrendering on the spot.

Viserys, unfazed, continued up the stairs without a second glance. The other soldiers, seeing their lives spared, quickly tossed their swords down the steps, unwilling to risk further confrontation. They had faced many foes, but none like this.

Freed from the obstruction, Viserys surged ahead, moving with a speed that left Conwyra and the others struggling to keep up. While the climb left them winded, Viserys seemed untouched by the exertion.

From the perspective of his golden eagle, Viserys knew that Kambron still had about ten men guarding him. Worse yet, the reinforcements were now only a few hundred meters from the bell tower. The urgency was clear—he had to capture Kambron, and he had to do it quickly, or everything would be lost.

“Damn, who designed these spiral stairs?” Viserys muttered, frustration bubbling up as he continued to climb. He’d lost count of how many times he’d circled the narrow steps—twenty at least—but he was nearing the top. He knew that once he reached it, he’d have to face a group of ten heavily armed men, and he’d have to take them on alone.

Meanwhile, Kambron, unaware of the chaos below, felt his confidence growing as he watched the reinforcements draw nearer.

"In the tower! There are still enemies in the tower!" Kambron waved his hand and shouted down to his approaching forces. Then, turning angrily to the guards beside him, he barked, "Don’t just stand there! You shout too!"

Oblivious to the precise situation downstairs, Kambron was reassured by the fact that the men below were first-class warriors. He believed that even if the intruder was strong, they couldn’t possibly reach him so quickly. Following his command, the guards leaned over the railing and began yelling:

“Hey! There are enemies in the bell tower!”

“Come quickly!”

“There are enemies—”

The officer leading the reinforcements couldn’t make out the exact words at first, but it didn’t take long for him to realize something was very wrong at the bell tower. He quickly dispatched a small team of about 100 men to investigate.

Just as Kambron and his guards were shouting, a calm but commanding voice cut through the noise.

“Stop shouting.”

Kambron felt a cold dread settle in his chest. He turned and saw a figure emerging from the shadows—a man holding a Valyrian steel sword with a distinctive wavy pattern. The armor he wore was adorned with a golden-trimmed three-headed dragon, and at nearly 1.9 meters tall, his identity was unmistakable.

When Kambron first learned that the Windblown had turned against him, he suspected that Viserys was planning something big. But he hadn’t expected a slave uprising of this magnitude, nor had he imagined that Viserys would be so formidable. Now, seeing him in person, Kambron was shocked, though he tried to hide it.

But no matter, he reassured himself—his reinforcements were close, and he still had more than a dozen heavily armored guards at his side. He might not understand how Viserys had managed to dispatch the pirates so quickly, but that seemed irrelevant now.

“I have eleven men here, and you’re alone. How dare you come?” Kambron sneered, attempting to project confidence. Yet, as he glanced at Viserys, who had climbed those stairs with alarming speed, unease gnawed at him.

He knew that these ten or so heavily armored soldiers would be a challenge, but Viserys wasn’t there to talk. Without hesitation, he swung his Valyrian steel sword at Kambron. "Attack!" Kambron shouted, and a dozen armored soldiers surged forward to surround Viserys. They attacked together, fully aware of his fearsome reputation, confident that their numbers would eventually overwhelm him. After all, no matter how skilled, a man bleeds if struck by a sword.

Yet once again, things did not go as they expected.

Viserys moved with uncanny agility, slipping through their ranks like a shadow. He always found the perfect angle to evade their blows, making it impossible for them to pin him down. After a dozen exchanges, they were stunned to realize that they had already lost three men.

“What kind of monster is this?” one soldier gasped, echoing the thoughts of his comrades.

Even Kambron, watching from the sidelines, couldn’t help but marvel at Viserys’s prowess. The strength and precision he displayed were reminiscent of legends like the Sword of the Morning or Qarro, the Sealord’s First Sword. But admiration quickly turned to fear as he realized the battle was steadily moving toward him.

Kambron, had been hiding behind the wall to avoid the fight, suddenly he heard the sound of combat coming from the stairs.

Viserys heart sank—he had just learned that a squad had entered the bell tower. Conwyra and the others were heavily outnumbered. If he didn’t end this battle quickly, he would soon be surrounded.

Desperate, Viserys made a snap decision. He opened his panel and allocated all his Assignable Points to restore his magic, knowing this would be a temporary boost. It was the equivalent of “burning the stove with diamonds,” an act of sheer desperation, but he didn’t care.

A ball of flame flared to life in his palm, sending billowing smoke throughout the room. The soldiers’ eyes burned as they tried to see through the dense smoke, but it blinded them, rendering them helpless.

'By the gods, he really does have magic!' was Kambron’s last coherent thought as the smoke enveloped him. When it finally cleared, he found himself staring down the cold edge of Viserys’s sword, the blade already resting against his neck.