Game of Thrones: Second Son of House Targaryen
Chapter 228: And… The Price?

Chapter 228: And… The Price?

Laughter erupted.

“Hahahaha!!!”

For a moment, Valsha was stunned, but then she began to laugh uncontrollably, as if someone had hit her funny bone. Her laughter grew louder and louder—first, she couldn't straighten her back, and soon, her whole upper body was leaning back with the force of her mirth.

“Ah-hahahahahaha!” Young Connington looked on, alarmed by the sight of the thousand-year-old creature before him. Her voice, which had just moments ago been as delicate as a maiden's, suddenly turned shrill, almost like a rooster’s crow.

Valsha’s laughter made Viserys think of a bride who bursts out laughing at her wedding because of a humorous slip of the tongue by the groom. It seemed as if Valsha hadn’t laughed in centuries, and now she was making up for lost time. Perhaps she was simply someone with an unusually low threshold for humor.

She laughed for more than ten minutes before finally calming down. Taking a deep breath, Valsha wiped her eyes, which seemed slightly wet beneath her bandages.

“Okay, okay, I promise. When the time comes, bring your army, and I’ll clear a path for you,” Valsha said with a smile.

Hearing this, both Viserys and Young Connington were overjoyed. But then Viserys quickly recalled what Shiera had told him about the young man from House Sennesta—gifted with great magical talent, but driven mad.

Viserys quickly composed himself and asked, "If you agree, what will it cost?"

Valsha’s smile faded, and she looked at Viserys with dark, inscrutable eyes. The three of them stood in silence, the only sound in the hall being the hissing smoke from the dragons around the throne.

After a long pause, Valsha began circling Viserys. “I have been here for a thousand years, and I may be here for another thousand. In the next thousand years, I want you to keep me company.”

Viserys was at a loss for words. “A thousand years? But I’ll only live for a hundred or so before I die.”

“That’s fine. Just say yes or no. I can wait until you’re a hundred years old.”

This put him in a difficult position. He had lived less than fifty years in his two lives combined. A thousand years seemed like an unimaginable span of time, and he had no desire for immortality.

After some thought, Viserys realized he had nothing to lose, so he nodded and said, "I promise! But I’ll take all the Valyrian steel armor here with me."

"Hahaha, okay," Valsha replied with a wink. For a moment, Viserys felt as if his soul had been lassoed by something unseen, a sensation that quickly faded. He knew it wasn’t a hallucination—Valsha’s "magic power" was very real. She had been capable of fusing blood magic and water magic before she was twenty, and although that attempt had failed, it still showcased her remarkable talent.

Moreover, Valsha had lived for more than a thousand years. Even if she studied magic sporadically, her knowledge would still make her one of the most powerful figures in the magical world.

With the agreement made, Viserys was eager to leave, though he was tempted to ask if he could observe the dragons up close. However, he feared Valsha might use the opportunity to extract another favor, so he decided to hold off for now.

Yet, Valsha seemed reluctant to let them go. "Don’t be in such a hurry. No one has been here for hundreds of years. I finally have someone to talk to, and it’s so boring here!"

Her words didn’t sound like those of a thousand-year-old creature but more like those of a lonely, curious girl. Viserys felt a twinge of unease at the thought. 'What? You talk to corpses? Why not the furniture?' he wondered, unnerved.

Valsha walked over to the petrified corpses kneeling before the throne. She removed something that looked like a crown from one corpse’s head and placed it on another, muttering to herself, "Today, it’s your turn to be king."

"Come take a look. Doesn’t this crown look better on this one’s head?" Valsha called out to Viserys, leaving him with no choice but to approach.

What he saw sent a chill down his spine. These weren’t just corpses—these people were still alive! Their eyes, though dull and grey-purple, were rolling back and forth in their sockets. Viserys could see a deep, unbreakable numbness in their gaze.

But when they noticed Viserys, a flicker of light returned to their eyes, as if lives on the brink of withering had been rekindled.

The look in their eyes seemed to beg Viserys: "Kill me! Please, end this now!" A chill ran down his spine. Was this what awaited him—spending a thousand years in Chroyane, trapped in this nightmare?

Viserys glanced at Valsha and imagined her in a white lab coat; she would look just like a mad scientist. It became clear to him that he would need to replace a way to break this bizarre contract.

Suddenly, a realization struck him, and he turned sharply to look at the dragons around the throne. Although they were alive, they seemed eerily similar to the Valyrians. Valsha had turned these dragons into "grey mist machines." He noticed that the dragons were emaciated, their ribs painfully visible, and their backbones jutting out as if trying to break through their scales.

Viserys and Valsha chatted for what felt like an eternity—nearly four or five hours—just to bring her up to speed on the changes in the outside world. As he prepared to leave, Viserys mentioned the hallucinations Regis and the others had been experiencing, hoping Valsha could offer a solution.

"That’s a different price," Valsha replied with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"What do I have to do?" Viserys asked warily.

"Spend another thirty years with me."

Viserys thought it over. Since he had already agreed to a thousand years, another thirty didn’t seem like much. Reluctantly, he agreed.

After the deal was struck, Valsha began to unwind the bandage from her arm, removing about three or four meters of it. Pale, rough skin was revealed, resembling marble. "Just shove this in their mouths, and they’ll be fine in no time," she said, handing him the bandage.

Viserys took it and asked, "And how am I supposed to get the soldiers in?"

Valsha tilted her head with a sly smile. "Just soak it in water and make the soldiers drink it."

The look in her eyes made it clear—Viserys had been tricked.