In the Red Door courtyard, Viserys was still practicing the Water Dance.
Syrio, gaunt with an aquiline nose, watched Viserys with obvious expectation.
Perhaps having mingled in high society for too long, Syrio was also dressed in the grey-brown attire of a Sea Lord's dignitary.
Viserys, on the other hand, wore a studded vest and had neatly trimmed silver-white short hair.
Though Syrio no longer held the title of First Sword of Braavos, he lacked neither fame nor honor.
Many assassins were willing to spend a fortune to study under him, but Syrio was strict and rarely encountered an apprentice with the potential to grasp the Way of Insight.
"I heard from Moro that your Water Dance reached refinement within a few months. I initially thought he was exaggerating," Syrio said, tossing a wooden sword to Viserys. "But after watching your duel in the Moon Pool, you indeed show flashes of genius. Your courage and technique against Bero were outstanding."
"However, you needn't be proud. For a genius, my demands will be even stricter."
Viserys picked up the wooden sword, a single wooden sword with a hilt, a guard, and an ornamental pommel.
This wooden sword was heavier than any he had used before, due to a greater amount of lead poured into it.
"This is not a two-handed greatsword, but a one-handed sword," Syrio said. "It's heavier than what most apprentices use, but you have talent, so you must utilize it. Your strength and endurance are equally excellent, which is also why you defeated Bero."
Viserys nodded, turning his body sideways to face his opponent.
Typical Water Dancers often prioritize speed at the expense of strength and resilience, but Viserys was a well-rounded combatant.
Syrio was very pleased with this. As a Water Dancer mentor in Ice and Fire, Syrio was dedicated and didn't hold back his knowledge.
The Arya Syrio would later meet was also a fierce and talented individual who dared to kill at ten years old, a blood child. However, Syrio had now been 'snatched' by Viserys.
"Switch to your left hand," Syrio told Viserys. "The left hand is best. Switching hands will make your enemy very uncomfortable. Your stance is good, not facing the enemy directly, but turning your body slightly to reduce your attack surface."
Viserys grasped the sword, and his sideways movement indeed resembled a fencing posture.
"Very good. You are as slender as a spear, which shows your target is reduced. And you are tall, so you will have a longer reach and more angles of attack," Syrio stared at Viserys's hand. "Your fundamentals are good. Although Moro is an idiot, a good foundation makes everything twice as easy."
So Viserys began to charge Syrio, just as Syrio had instructed.
Don't use too much force with the sword, but be flexible and elegant.
"The sword must become one with your hand," the bald Syrio told Viserys. "Will your hand fall off? Of course not."
Viserys continued to attack like flowing water, elegant, graceful, and dangerous.
"Well done. Your training is mainly to try and attack me…" Syrio said. "Your posture is very standard. We use rapiers, not the curved swords or warhammers of barbarians. So be elegant, be dangerous."
Syrio also began to perform his graceful Water Dance, and Viserys tried his best to thrust at Syrio.
It wasn't easy. Syrio had many feints, and his speed was very fast. Hitting him required skill.
Viserys tried for several hours until every inch of his muscles ached.
Viserys believed it was worth it. Syrio's swordsmanship was the best among the Water Dancers of Braavos.
Compared to ordinary people, he would find it difficult to improve.
"You're doing very well, lad," Syrio said. "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe someone who had never learned the Water Dance before could progress so quickly."
"I will pursue the Way of Insight," Viserys said. Talent was good, but cheating was more important.
"Indeed, insight is the highest realm of the Water Dancer. We do not learn the Iron Dance of Westeros, the Knight's Dance, hacking and slashing. No. This is the Assassin's Dance, the Water Dance, swift in action, surprising the enemy. Humans are made of water. You have dueled before. When you stab a human body, water flows out, and the person dies."
Viserys felt that the Water Dancer's insight was somewhat aimed at the Faceless Men, who were masters of disguise and transformation.
Thus, the Faceless Men pursued anonymity, while the Sea Lord's First Sword sought insight as their ultimate realm.
The Water Dancers and the Faceless Men, when compared, had a relationship somewhat akin to a spear and a shield.
Perhaps the Sea Lord did not fully trust the Faceless Men, but rather used and feared them, keeping them at a distance.
"What about encountering a knight in armor?" Viserys asked.
"Knights always have moments of laxity, don't they?" Syrio replied.
Viserys was speechless for a moment. It seemed Syrio didn't have much experience fighting armored knights either.
When dueling in Westeros, how could one not wear a helmet?
This was just the first day of training; a whole series of training would follow... "This is the Nightingale, Viserys," the Swordswoman introduced a new guest to Viserys.
Not only had the Swordswoman arrived today, but she had also brought a new courtesan.
The Nightingale was one of the seven great courtesans of Braavos, renowned for her beautiful voice.
Viserys was a little surprised. He had initially thought that the Swordswoman and the Nightingale's paths might overlap somewhat now, and meeting might be awkward.
Unexpectedly, from the current situation, the Nightingale and the Swordswoman were chatting and laughing. The Swordswoman probably made a good gesture, and they both saved face.
Of course, the Swordswoman also understood that Viserys would definitely cooperate with top-tier courtesans, and this was not something she could prevent.
These top-tier courtesans were all shrewd individuals.
Although the Swordswoman was reserved, she probably couldn't afford to offend the powers behind the Nightingale.
"Your Majesty Viserys," the Nightingale bowed to Viserys.
Viserys looked at the Nightingale. The courtesan wore a yellow gauze dress, and her silver shoes were inlaid with pearls; she even brought her 'attack speed shoes'.
The Nightingale looked beautiful and charming, probably around sixteen or seventeen years old.
The Nightingale had a Lysene appearance, with golden hair, blue eyes, fair skin, expressive eyes, and a melodious voice.
"You are a distinguished guest," Viserys said.
He was quite natural about these courtesans visiting.
Viserys only needed money and materials like dragon bones.
"The Nightingale is not a clever bird, otherwise how could she not have discovered the true dragon of the Secret City."
The Nightingale was also observing this last true dragon, with his characteristic silver hair and purple eyes, handsome and agile, like a dangerous spear.
The Nightingale had heard that Viserys was also a Water Dancer apprentice who was beginning to gain some renown, which added to his dangerous aura.
He was talented, yet he carried the Targaryen fanaticism for dragons.
"What a pity," the Nightingale thought. Viserys's plan was too grand.
For three people to want to return and restore a kingdom, it was hard to say whether it was madness or greatness.
"Hearing your words makes my heart bloom," Viserys said with a smile. "But I am not a true dragon now; I am a traveler of the Secret City."
"You are truly a humorous person. Ordinary travelers wouldn't stir up such a storm in Braavos, with the whole city searching for the silver traveler." The Nightingale's visit to him indicated she also intended to exchange goods.
"A small gift, not much to show my respect," the Nightingale waved her hand.
Her guard brought up a box, and when it was opened, it contained various dragon bone artifacts.
Most were dark and lustrous dragon bone ornaments, with a few dragon bone-handled daggers.
Viserys picked up a dragon bone hairpin. Power, the scent of power.
It seemed the Nightingale had excellent discernment, and her ability to mobilize resources was far superior to the Swordswoman's. This was the true value of one of the seven great courtesans.
Perhaps Viserys could also ask Syrio for help in acquiring some, as Syrio had a more extensive network.
"Do you want a song?" Viserys looked at the Nightingale.
A meal was too superficial, and the Nightingale wouldn't possibly sleep with him, so she must be seeking something artistic.
"Let's be friends; these are just my gifts," the Nightingale said. "They are not my deposit."
As a singer among the seven great courtesans, the Nightingale naturally also needed a talented artist like Viserys, but she understood the importance of goodwill and reciprocity even more.
"Excellent, let's speak frankly. I like pretty girls like you, especially ones so generous. The Swordswoman is my friend, so you are also my friend. I can give you this favor." Viserys took out a page of his lyrics.
The Nightingale was also somewhat shocked. Was this man truly a god-tier creator?
She had heard that Viserys had recently been obsessed with the Way of the Water Dancer, but it hadn't diminished his creative ability in the slightest.
"In my arms, in your eyes
Where spring breezes intoxicate, where green grass thrives
Moonlight sprinkles love across the lake's surface"
"This song can be named 'By the Great Reef Lake'," Viserys added.
He had originally considered 'By the God's Eye Lake', but after some thought, it was too inauspicious and would also reveal his identity, so he dismissed it.
"Five hundred."
"No, a thousand gold coins." The Nightingale put away the letter and then named a very expensive figure.
The Nightingale was indeed wealthy, offering a price five times that of the Swordswoman.
"This amount is equivalent to the Kingslayer's ransom. An enormous sum," Viserys thought.
"My investors take a larger share, so I can give you a larger deposit and a smaller cut later," the Nightingale said with a hint of apology.
"Understood," Viserys shrugged.
"A group of people might want to meet you. Are you interested?" the Nightingale said.
"Who?" Viserys was curious.
"The Moon Singer priestess."
Viserys immediately understood. He knew who was behind the Nightingale.
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