Virgil joined Tyrosh's army as a slave, but before that, he had been an apricot slave in the pleasure gardens, where both men and women served. A month ago, Viserys selected the best soldiers from the ranks of the army, promising them that after the mission, they would be granted their freedom. Along with this, they would receive a reward of silver or tobacco equal to their weight. The offer was so generous that Virgil didn't hesitate to sign up.
Virgil had a lover named Lara, who was still a slave. On the night of Virgil's enrollment, Viserys redeemed Lara's freedom. Not just Virgil, but many others who were willing to trade their rewards or even "compensation" for the freedom of their loved ones found Viserys surprisingly accommodating. In the small officer's quarters assigned to them by Viserys, the reunited lovers embraced.
"With such generous rewards, this mission must be very dangerous, right?" Lara whispered, her voice full of worry as she clung to Virgil. She didn't want to see him put himself at risk. She had tried to persuade him to wait another year.
Viserys had chosen his soldiers from among the slaves, paying them a third of what the free soldiers earned. Virgil, a genius with ships, quickly rose to the rank of captain in the fleet. His pay was decent, and within a year, he could have bought Lara's freedom. But Virgil didn't want his lover to remain in that corrupt place a moment longer, so he volunteered for the mission.
"Don't worry," he reassured Lara, "Prince Viserys is always at the front of the battle, and he's never lost a fight." Virgil had faith in Viserys, who knew that the true power must be in his own hands. Viserys often mingled with Tyrosh's soldiers, even dining with them. Occasionally, when in the mood, he would offer them advice. His personal charisma was almost overwhelming, and his legendary story made him an idol among the troops, who nearly worshipped him.
Both Virgil and Lara, having been subjected to various drugs for so long, were almost infertile. Yet during this time, they had experienced the dignity of being human and the taste of freedom. For a month, they passionately sought each other's comfort every night, sometimes until dawn.
The fleet consisted of twenty ships and 2,000 men. It wasn't a small force, but neither was it large. It seemed excessive to use it against pirates and too audacious to launch an attack on the Free Cities. Connington, observing these moves, struggled to understand what Viserys was planning.
"Prince, just tell me what you're planning. Wildfire and dragon-shooting crossbows—where exactly are you going to attack?" Connington pressed.
Viserys had organized the fleet with the intent to attack Euron, of course. As was his custom, he first sought guidance from the Moon's Revelation. But this time, the results were troubling. The moon in his mind distorted as soon as it took shape, like a reflection on water that couldn't hold steady. This meant his journey would be fraught with danger.
Initially, Viserys assumed the failure was due to his own lack of skill, so he increased the difficulty of the Moon's Revelation to a master level. This time, the moon finally solidified in his consciousness, but what he saw was unsettling: he was being dragged into the sea by a Kraken. If he pursued Euron, it might very well cost him his life.
Viserys tried the divination again, and this time, he saw Euron in the moon—laughing maniacally from the back of a dragon. However, in the first vision, despite being dragged into the sea by the Kraken, Viserys was still fighting it and even seemed to have a slight advantage. Though how he could possibly be in the lead against a 20-meter-long Kraken was beyond him.
In the second vision, there was no doubt—Viserys had utterly failed. Realizing the slim chance of survival in this fight, he decided to take the initiative and seize that chance.
However, to calm Connington's nerves, Viserys chose not to reveal the full truth. Instead, he reassured him, "I'm going to ambush a warlock. His methods are a bit unusual, but don't worry, I'll be careful."
"How many men does this warlock have?" Connington asked, still concerned.
"He has only one ship with fewer than 200 men. The dragon-shooting bow has a long range, and the wildfire is powerful. If I can take him out from a distance, I won't need to engage directly."
Viserys's words eased Connington's worries. A force of 2,000 men against a single ship seemed like a cautious and reassuring plan.
At that moment, Viserys took another envelope from his pocket and handed it to Connington.
"Prince, what is this?" Connington asked, puzzled.
"Oh, open it together after Jon Arryn is dead," Viserys replied casually.
"Jon Arryn is going to die?" Connington asked, taken aback.
"More or less. The old man has it coming."
Although Viserys spoke nonchalantly, Connington couldn't shake a feeling of unease. 'Why give him the letter now? Why not wait until hr returned?'
Viserys handed the envelope to Connington because he was uncertain of his own fate. The envelope contained his detailed "strategy," a contingency plan in case he didn't make it back. If the worst happened, Connington could use it to give Dany an advantage in the coming War of the Five Kings.
The letter was comprehensive, covering everything from simple advice to complex tactics. It detailed which houses to court and which to punish, where and when to land forces, and the pros and cons of various landing sites.
Viserys even listed who could be trusted in Westeros and who should be avoided, essentially crafting a military campaign recommendation. He was like an anxious parent sending their child on a long journey, trying to prepare Dany for every eventuality and metaphorically placing a crown on her head.
After all, this was the ultimate showdown between himself and the "son of fortune," Euron, and he couldn't afford to be careless.
The next day, the ships that had been waiting in the harbor for some time finally set sail. Among them were four specially designed speedboats intended to intercept Euron's ship, the Silence.
"I hope the dragons hatches soon so we can fight together," Dany said, leaning on Viserys' shoulder in the carriage.
"Have you thought of a name for your dragon yet?" Viserys asked.
"I like the silver egg. How about we call it Meraxes?"
"No, Meraxes is an unlucky name," Viserys replied, vetoing her suggestion, remembering that Meraxes had been killed by the Dornish scorpion bolts.
Seeing that Dany didn't have any other ideas, Viserys gave her some final instructions. "Dany, there are two people you need to remember. Make sure you remind me to deal with them later."
Viserys rarely spoke of killing in front of Dany, even though she had taken lives before. Hearing her brother mention this, Dany's attention sharpened.
"One is Mirri, the fat witch who recently pledged her loyalty to me. Keep your distance from her as well. The other is Jon Snow, the son of Ned Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."
This was a carefully considered warning. By mentioning it now, Viserys avoided worrying Dany about his own fate while also planting a seed of caution in her mind. If he didn't return, she would know not to trust these two people—and might even eliminate them as part of fulfilling his "last wish."
Although Dany couldn't yet see any connection between these two individuals, she knew Viserys well enough to take his words seriously and keep them in mind.