Before going on stage, Darklane took the pill Andersen had given him. He knew it might harm his body, but he had no choice. He was a member of House Fregar, and despite the ban on the slave trade in Braavos, there were other ways to control people. His family was under House Fregar's control. If he disobeyed...
Darklane had no choice but to accept the arrangement. As long as he won the competition, everything would be fine. Now, he felt a surge of power coursing through him. His lungs felt cool, as if he had swallowed a large piece of ice. He took a deep breath as he watched Viserys approach the arena from the other direction.
Judging by the previous bouts, Viserys's swordsmanship was quite advanced—at least technically superior to his own. The only way to win was to outlast him. Darklane, not yet thirty, was at the peak of his swordsman's life, with top-notch physical strength, technique, and power. In his opinion, while Viserys might have a natural talent for swordsmanship, he was still not fully grown. Darklane believed he could win by outlasting him, especially since the medicine made him stronger and tireless. He still had a good chance of victory.
Just as the judge was about to announce the start of the match, Viserys suddenly said, "Wait!"
Everyone was surprised, uncertain of his intentions. "I demand that the weapons of both sides be inspected!" He thrust his sword into the ground, indicating it could be inspected at will.
"It should be inspected!"
"Yes, who knows if the swordsman from House Fregar will use hidden weapons again."
"But the Sealord is also here; they can't play tricks twice in a row."
Various discussions erupted. Roth, seated in the center of the bleachers, said, "My lord, I think we should inspect it to dispel doubts. After all, it also protects Braavos' reputation."
"Hmm, that makes sense," Ferrego nodded in agreement. "What does Lord Tormo think?" Roth asked, pressing his advantage.
"Then let's do it as soon as possible," Tormo frowned slightly.
Ferrego signaled to Qarro, who led his men to the arena and collected the two men's weapons for inspection.
At this point, the audience agreed with Viserys's approach.
"That's the way it should be."
"Weapons should be inspected before every competition in the future!"
"What about the honor of the swordsman? This can't happen again!"
The crowd buzzed with various opinions.
"My lord, please check my sword first," Viserys said.
"No rush, it'll be quick," Qarro replied.
"Then check it twice, and let all the spectators see it," Viserys insisted.
Darklane's expression darkened at the suggestion. With nearly 2,000 people in the theater, such thorough inspections would take too long, rendering the medicine's effects useless.
Qarro, however, did not heed Viserys's advice. The First Sword of the Sealord was in a hurry and unwilling to waste more time. After five or six minutes, Qarro returned the swords, indicating everything was normal. The competition was ready to resume after nearly a ten-minute delay.
During this time, Darklane felt the cool sensation in his lungs begin to fade, replaced by a warming feeling. His blood flow and heartbeat quickened. 'I need to let off some steam,' he thought.
"Any other questions?" the judge asked.
"Yes," Viserys said. "I suggest we search him again, just in case he's hiding any hidden weapons or lime."
The judge thought this was excessive, but since House Fregar had already done it, he had to consult the Sealord again. The result, predictably, was negative. Ferrego could reprimand Tormo but doing so too harshly would be akin to disrespecting him, leading to unpredictable consequences. However, this request still took an additional three minutes.
In the meantime, the effect of the pill had already worn off by half. Where Darklane had initially felt warmth in his lungs and body, now it was burning hot. He felt like a sports car burning its tires in place; if he didn't release the brakes, he might be ruined.
Finally, with the referee's order, Darklane could no longer hold back. He let out a strange cry and rushed towards Viserys, his attacks wide open and aggressive. The two swords clashed, sending sparks flying and eliciting gasps from the audience. The dramatic "special effects" made the tournament thrilling to watch.
However, knowledgeable spectators noticed the flaws in Darklane's strategy. His all-out assault was unsustainable. It seemed he wanted to end the fight quickly. But as the minutes ticked by—three, five, ten—Darklane showed no signs of exhaustion; instead, he grew fiercer. Viserys, meanwhile, was forced into full defense, unable to launch any counterattacks.
Only Darklane knew the truth: he was like a wave crashing against a cliff. Though he was making all the noise, the cliff passively absorbed the impact. While his own strength would eventually deplete, the cliff would remain standing. Viserys had used less than a third of his strength, biding his time to see the pill's side effects. If the pill didn't kill Darklane, Viserys might even consider using it himself in a dire situation.
Among the concerned spectators, Dany gripped the railing tightly, her fingertips turning white from the pressure. Falia clutched her handkerchief, as if willing her support to Viserys. The First Sword Qarro, observing closely, gained new respect for Viserys's defensive skill. Despite not attacking, Viserys was defending effectively, revealing the abnormality of Darklane's relentless assault.
Viserys, closest to the action, noticed blood oozing from Darklane's nostrils, partially hidden by his beard. 'This drug is too strong,' he thought, as their swords locked together.
"Give up, you're no match for me," Viserys said, looking into Darklane's bloodshot eyes.
But Darklane didn't appreciate the advice. His eyes bulged, and his mouth puckered in a jet-like shape. Viserys quickly ducked as a thick mist of blood sprayed across the arena, accompanied by a sound like tearing cloth.