Game of Thrones: Bastard? I’m the Damn Heir!

Kal had decided to treat, and Tyrion didn't hold back—he even went so far as to order a whole roast pig just to bleed Kal dry.

Damn it, that was the most expensive dish at the Crossroads Inn.

But expensive as it was, it truly lived up to the price.

The roast was slathered with pepper and served with onions, mushrooms, and chopped radish.

The golden-brown skin crackled with crispness and mouthwatering aroma, and the pig's mouth was stuffed with an assortment of fruits.

That roast pig, along with a few mugs of ale, was all it took to kick off a perfect day.

Once his stomach was full and he was lazily picking his teeth, Kal found himself growing increasingly annoyed just looking at the dwarf across from him. Without hesitation, he decided to hop on Fawkes and take a little ride to the famous Ruby Ford.

Maybe, if he got lucky, he could even pick up a ruby or two.

So, after bidding farewell to his only friend, Kal called over a serving girl at the inn to confirm the direction, then set out alone for a bit of leisure.

Tyrion, already slightly tipsy, praised his choice and went off to a corner to read.

Yesterday, while visiting the Darry family, he had stumbled upon something unexpected in their cellar—tapestries depicting the line of kings from House Targaryen.

Amazed by the discovery, Tyrion had shared the information with his hosts, and in return, the Darrys gifted him three books from their family library as a token of thanks.

Yes, a very reasonable "exchange."

Meanwhile, Kal had already made his way out to the countryside and was now riding through open fields. Suddenly, a thought struck him—wasn't the man who had escorted Daenerys Targaryen and her brother off Dragonstone to Essos also named Darry?

His head a little foggy from the feast and drink, Kal tried to recall carefully.

He swayed on horseback for a while before it finally came back to him—wasn't the name something like… Willem Darry?

But with so many foreign names that sounded alike, Kal wasn't entirely sure.

After all, in the original story, the man had barely been mentioned at all.

Still, before the Rebellion, it seemed he had served as the master-at-arms at the Red Keep.

And it was said that even Rhaegar Targaryen had trained under him…

But aside from that, the most memorable thing he ever did was this: while others loyal to House Targaryen were still negotiating a surrender and planning to hand over the Targaryen children to Robert, he had taken the initiative—secretly smuggling Daenerys and Viserys Targaryen away to the Free City of Braavos.

There, Daenerys had scraped together a somewhat peaceful childhood for a few years.

But once Willem died, the siblings lost their protector and were driven out by the servants—marking the true beginning of their exile.

"They probably haven't stayed in touch, right?"

Scratching his head at the thought, Kal instinctively flipped his hand—and in a flash, a magnificent crown appeared where his palm had been empty just a second before.

It was a coronet forged primarily from gold.

Slender and elegant, it looked like a simple golden ring at first glance, but it was crowned with a wreath of intertwining gemstone branches—crafted from three different colors of jewels—that coiled along the rim in ornate patterns.

The intricate decoration made the crown look almost like something meant for a woman.

And that was exactly the case.

Because this was, in fact, a crown made for a woman—its original owner had been none other than Rhaella Targaryen.

As for her identity, she had been the wife of the "Mad King," Aerys II Targaryen.

And also his sister.

Yes, this was the very crown Kal had personally bought from the hands of "Beggar King" Viserys Targaryen.

Though, truth be told, that nickname had only started circulating after Kal bought the crown—an insult coined to mock this so-called Viserys Targaryen III.

At the time, Kal had just left the Vale and traveled to Essos.

Curious about what the Targaryen siblings looked like, he'd happened upon them just as they were struggling to make ends meet—forced to sell off their belongings to survive.

Why he did it, Kal wasn't entirely sure, but he stepped forward and bought this royal Targaryen crown.

That was also when he first saw Daenerys, who had only been eight or nine years old at the time.

She had silver-gold hair and purple eyes. Though young and wide-eyed, she already showed hints of beauty and charm.

But aside from that, she had just been an ordinary, timid, and insecure little girl.

Back then, her brother was still protecting her carefully.

Kal fiddled with the crown he had bought—an item he still didn't know what to do with—then stowed it back into his inventory.

A sigh escaped him.

"By now, Daenerys must be in Pentos, about to be married off to Khal Drogo under the arrangement of that rich merchant-governor, Illyrio Mopatis, and her brother Viserys Targaryen..."

"If I'm remembering the timeline right, she's only thirteen or fourteen right now...?"

"Shit. What a fucking beast."

Muttering to himself as he pieced together the plot points, Kal couldn't help but curse out loud.

Fawkes let out a snorting huff in response to the commotion on his back, his ears twitching as his hooves quickened their pace.

"Whatever, it's not like this has anything to do with me!"

Jolted out of his thoughts by Fawkes's sudden burst of movement, Kal could only shrug and toss aside the wandering thoughts in his mind.

He lifted his head and turned his gaze toward the river not far away.

…

Finding a patch of relatively flat grass, Kal gave a casual wave of his hand—and instantly, a thick, though not particularly elegant, rug appeared out of thin air on the ground.

With practiced ease, he tossed the reins onto the saddle on Fawkes's back and motioned for him to go amuse himself.

Kal then leaned against a large tree, laced his hands behind his head, and sat down comfortably on the rug.

He squinted slightly at the beautiful view ahead. The wide river flowed with a steady current tinged with surging force, its babbling producing a soothing, melodious sound.

The sunlight was just right. Blue skies, white clouds—the river's surface rippled under the breeze, shimmering with scales of golden-white light.

Faced with such a peaceful scene, Kal couldn't help but sigh in satisfaction, his mind completely blank and at ease.

In the very next moment, a pile of fresh fruits suddenly appeared in the empty space beside him on the rug.

Bright in color and vivid in hue, the fruits gave off a fragrant aroma that tickled his nose—the kind of scent that screamed peak freshness with just a whiff.

Picking up a bunch of grapes, Kal tossed them straight into his mouth, swallowing them whole—skins, seeds, and all.

No sooner had he finished than a green glass bottle of red wine appeared in his hand.

This was the fine item Tyrion had asked for earlier.

It also happened to be an in-game item designed specifically for winning over the elf who guarded the holy water spring—Elven Wine.

After all, that elf was a notorious drunkard. The only way to beat her in an archery contest was to get her properly drunk first.

But just as Kal popped open the bottle and was about to take a sip, a massive black shadow suddenly entered his field of vision.

It had a pair of enormous horns—so long they'd be hard for an average person to measure even with outstretched arms.

Its coat was thick and pitch black, the long strands nearly brushing the ground. But even so, they couldn't hide the beast's bulky, muscular frame.

"A wild aurochs?!"

Faced with the sudden appearance of the wild Aurochs, Kal instinctively froze for a moment.

Then, in the very next second, that massive beast—almost the size of a small wagon—transformed before his eyes into a radiant golden dragon.

If he remembered correctly, Tyrion had just said that Robert Baratheon was offering a reward of 100 gold dragons to any warrior who could hunt down a wild Aurochs alone.

Solo hunt? That wasn't a problem for Kal. As for being a warrior? Kal didn't think he fell short in any regard.

So when wealth dropped from the heavens, how could he possibly keep lying here, idly wasting a beautiful day?

He promptly set down the bottle in his hand, sprang to his feet, and charged toward the wild Aurochs without a second thought.

His speed was astonishing. His strides pounded across the grassland like the wind itself.

In the blink of an eye, the grass swayed and parted—but Kal had already vanished.

He was like a galloping steed. The once calm air roared in his ears as if turning into a tempest, howling past his face.

Every step he took left deep craters in the muddy earth, like explosions from firecrackers.

Clumps of shattered soil and grass were kicked into the air with each stride, only to rain back down like droplets from a passing storm.

"Hyah! O Aurochs, bow your head and surrender!"

"Let this old man skin your hide and strip your bones, roast you whole, and fulfill the destiny that binds us!"

Before even getting close, Kal couldn't help but shout out loud—overjoyed at how it felt like he was literally picking up money from the ground—

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