(A/N):
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As the Leo had stepped onto the arena,
A low murmur rippled through the crowd like wind over water.
Every eye followed him—
His armor gleaming darkly beneath the sun, his stance calm yet commanding.
On the royal stands, Rhaenyra and Alicent leaned forward, their curiosity piqued.
"____"
"____"
Neither could look away.
Rhaenyra felt her breath hitch as the knight turned removing his helmet showing his face,
Revealing eyes of a deep, entrancing crimson—
Eyes that seemed to pull her in, like fire reflected in wine.
She didn't understand why her heart raced,
Only that those eyes felt… familiar, almost dangerous.
Gulp~
Beside her, Alicent caught the faint flush on Rhaenyra's face and smirked, unable to resist.
Smirk~
"Well,"
She murmured teasingly,
"it's rare to see the Kingdom's Delight so enchanted by a knight."
Rhaenyra shot her a sharp look,
Though her gaze betrayed her wandering thoughts.
Alicent's own expression softened as she returned her attention to the knight.
For all her teasing, she, too, felt that same magnetic pull—
An unspoken temptation to bring this stranger to her side.
The crowd's murmuring grew quieter as the royal commentator raised his voice.
"Ser Knight, name yourself before the challenge begins!"
All eyes turned to the mysterious warrior standing at the center of the tourney grounds.
The sun glinted off his blackened armor as he lifted his helm slightly,
Revealing a composed smile beneath crimson eyes.
Leo inclined his head respectfully.
"I am Leo Morningstar, King of Eldoria,"
He declared, his voice carrying through the silence.
"I was merely passing through when I heard of this tourney—and thought I might test my blade against the finest knights of Westeros."
A stir rippled through the stands.
'A king?'
The word spread in whispers from the lowborn to the highborn seats alike.
"____"
"____"
"____"
Even Rhaenyra and Alicent exchanged surprised glances they have never heared about this kingdom.
Reaching behind his back,
Leo unsheathed a sword from its stealth-hardened scabbard—
A weapon of breathtaking craftsmanship.
Its blade shimmered with a crimson interior, edges so keen they seemed to hum softly as they cut through the air.
It wasn't Raikiri, his usual sword he kept it in his inventory.
But still a relic of unmatched quality—
One he had earned during his time in Harry Potter World.
Raising the blade slightly, Leo pointed it toward his opponent across the field.
"I wish to challenge the knight before me,"
He said calmly, eyes glowing faintly with anticipation.
The commentator's voice trembled as he repeated,
"The King of Eldoria… challenges Ser Cristion Cole!"
The crowd roared, their excitement breaking the silence like thunder.
Cheeerrrr!!! Cheeerrrr!!!
Cheeerrrr!!!
Hearing Leo's calm declaration,
Criston Cole tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword and squared his stance.
"____"
The young knight's eyes darted over his opponent—
Measuring, searching, calculating.
Yet what unsettled him most wasn't Leo's black armor or the crimson glint of his blade—
it was his composure.
Leo stood with effortless grace,
The tip of his sword angled lazily toward the ground, not even in a guard position.
He looked less like a man preparing for battle and more like someone indulging a child's game.
The faintest smile tugged at his lips—
"____"
As though he had already won.
"____"
Criston's jaw clenched.
'He's mocking me.'
A slow burn of frustration rose in his chest.
He had trained for years, fought in tourneys across the realm, earning bruises and glory in equal measure.
Every strike, every scar was a step toward recognition—
Toward the notice of the nobles, perhaps even the Princess herself.
And now… some stranger—
Some "King of Eldoria" from a land no one had ever heard of—
Stood before him, dismissive and calm,
Stealing the moment meant to crown his triumph.
Criston gritted his teeth,
A spark of desperation flickering in his gaze.
'No matter who he is… he'll be my stepping stone.'
With a low growl,
He shifted his footing, blade rising to eye level as the tension between them thickened—
Like a storm about to break.
With fiery determination blazing in his eyes,
Criston Cole lunged forward,
Sword arcing toward Leo's neck in a swift,
Precise strike meant to seize control of the bout.
The crowd leaned forward, gasps and cheers rising as steel cut through the air—
—but what happened next silenced them all.
"____"
"____"
"____"
Before Criston's blade could even reach him,
Leo moved.
Swish~
It wasn't a dodge, nor a parry—
Just a single, effortless motion.
His crimson-edged sword sang as it sliced through the air, meeting Criston's steel mid-swing.
Clang~
A ringing clang echoed—
Followed by a sound no one expected.
Crack~
The sharp crack of shattering metal.
Criston's sword split in two,
Severed cleanly as if made of paper.
And in the same flowing motion,
Leo's blade continued its path—
Slicing clean through Criston's forearm.
For a heartbeat, silence reigned.
Even the banners above seemed frozen in the wind.
Then came the blood.
A crimson spray painted the sand as Criston staggered back,
"____"
Eyes wide, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
The shock broke into raw agony as he clutched the stump where his hand had been.
Ahhhhhhh!!!
A scream tore from his throat, echoing across the stands.
The crowd recoiled in horror.
The laughter and chatter of moments ago vanished,
Replaced by the haunting sound of a knight's scream and the quiet hum of Leo sheathing his sword—
Unbothered, emotionless, as though he'd simply swatted a fly.
For a long, breathless moment, no one moved.
Then the commentator—
Still reeling from what he'd just witnessed—
Found his voice.
"V–Victor! The duel is decided! The winner—King Leo of Eldoria!"
The words ignited the arena.
A thunderous cheer rolled through the stands like a wave.
Nobles, smallfolk, and knights alike erupted in applause, some in disbelief, others in awe.
Even from the royal stand,
Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen rose to her feet,
Her eyes gleaming with admiration.
Beside her, Alicent Hightower clapped gracefully,
Though a curious smile tugged at her lips—
Half intrigue, half something more.
Down below, Leo gave a courteous nod,
Nod~
Resting his sword against his shoulder as if nothing had happened.
When the commentator called for challengers,
Dozens of eager knights stepped forward one after another,
Their pride refusing to be outdone.
Each met the same fate—
A blur of motion, a clash of steel, and within seconds,
They were disarmed or sprawled in the dust.
The crowd's excitement reached fever pitch.
Noblewomen leaned forward, eyes sparkling as they began openly cheering for the mysterious black-armored king.
"The King of Eldoria!"
They cried.
"The Crimson Blade!"
Meanwhile, up in the noblewomen's stands, Hagoromo Gitsune, Kejoro, Setsura, and Sasami watched the spectacle unfold.
Kejoro sighed with an amused smile.
"He's really showing off today, isn't he?"
Setsura chuckled softly, folding her arms.
Chuckle~
"When is he not?"
Sasami covered her mouth to stifle a laugh,
While Hagoromo Gitsune simply smirked, her golden eyes glinting with quiet pride.
Smirk~
"Let him have his fun,"
She murmured.
"After all… a king should know how to make an entrance."
As the crowd's cheers still thundered through the tourney grounds,
A low, amused laugh echoed from behind Leo.
The sound carried a sharp edge—
Half amusement, half challenge.
Leo turned, crimson eyes narrowing slightly beneath his helm.
"____"
Riding forward on a black warhorse clad in steel and flame-patterned armor was Prince Daemon Targaryen himself.
The rogue prince sat tall in the saddle,
His silver-gold hair catching the sunlight, his lips curved into that familiar predatory smirk.
Smirk~
His dark armor gleamed with the sigil of House Targaryen—
The three-headed dragon etched across his chestplate, crimson against obsidian.
The crowd erupted again, this time with shouts of excitement.
"Prince Daemon!"
"The Rogue Prince has entered the lists!"
Daemon's violet eyes swept over the stands,
Drinking in the roaring adoration that only he could command.
But when his gaze reached the royal pavilion,
It lingered—
On Rhaenyra, who had leaned forward with bright eyes and a faint smile that betrayed her excitement.
Then, slowly, his attention returned to the dark-armored stranger before him.
He'd seen the man's earlier duels—
How swiftly he struck, how effortlessly he cut through trained knights like reeds in a storm.
There was something about his stance, his calm defiance,
That ignited the fire in Daemon's blood.
A slow grin spread across his face as he drew his sword,
Grin~
The Valyrian steel Dark Sister, from its sheath.
"Well,"
Daemon said, voice carrying across the arena, smooth and dangerous.
"It seems I've come just in time to face the newest champion of the day."
He tilted his head, eyes flashing with delight and challenge.
"Tell me, King of Eldoria… will you cross blades with a dragon?"
The crowd hushed, their excitement thick in the air.
Leo's gaze met Daemon's, unflinching, unreadable.
His lips curved slightly—
Not in arrogance, but in quiet confidence—
As his crimson blade tilted toward the prince.
"If the dragon wishes to test his fire,"
Leo said calmly, his voice echoing through the silence,
"then let him burn bright before my blade."
The arena erupted again—
Half in awe, half in disbelief.
The rogue prince grinned wider.
Grin~
Kuku~
"Excellent,"
Daemon murmured, lowering his visor.
"Let's give them a show."
Daemon dismounted with a graceful swing,
The sound of his boots striking the dirt echoing across the silent tourney grounds.
Thud.
His crimson cloak fluttered behind him as he drew Dark Sister,
The blade humming softly in his grip.
Across the field,
Leo stood calm and motionless,
His black armor gleaming under the sun,
His red-lined sword lowered casually to his side.
No tension in his stance.
No wasted motion.
Just quiet control.
The crowd held its breath.
"____"
"____"
"____"
Even the wind seemed to hesitate.
Daemon circled, light on his feet, testing this stranger's reflexes.
His movements were serpentine—
Swift, precise, meant to distract.
Then, with sudden ferocity, he lunged—His blade arcing toward Leo's hand, aiming to knock the weapon free.
But Leo didn't parry.
He sidestepped, effortless as a shadow.
In the same motion, his boot snapped out, slamming into Daemon's leg.
Thud.
The Rogue Prince's balance broke.
"____"
His body lurched forward,
The crowd gasping as his footing vanished beneath him.
Before he could recover,
Leo's armored knee came up—
A brutal, perfect strike that connected squarely with Daemon's face.
A sharp crack echoed.
Crack~
Daemon hit the ground hard, eyes wide, staring at the sky as the world spun.
Blood trickled down from his broken nose,
Painting his silver hair red.
For a heartbeat, everything become quiet.
From the stands, gasps rippled through the nobles.
"____"
"____"
"____"
Rhaenyra rose from her seat, stunned, her lips parting in disbelief.
Alicent's hand flew to her mouth as whispers surged like waves across the audience.
And Leo?
He simply stepped back, sword still lowered, his crimson eyes calm and unbothered.
The crowd stared at the King of Eldoria in stunned silence—
"____"
"____"
"____"
While Daemon, still dazed, blinked at the blinding sky above him… humiliated,
For the first time in years.
Daemon pushed himself off the ground, blood dripping from his nose, his silver hair disheveled.
Drip~ Drip~
The crowd watched in tense silence as he shook his head,
A crooked grin spreading across his face.
Grin~
"Not bad…"
He rasped, his pride clearly wounded but his spirit unbroken.
His violet eyes gleamed with battle frenzy.
Without warning, he lunged—
Feral, fast, and furious.
His armor clanged as he drove forward,
Dark Sister flashing in a deadly arc meant to take Leo's head clean off.
But Leo didn't flinch.
"____"
At the last instant,
His hand shot up—
Catching Daemon's sword arm mid-swing.
The movement was so fast it seemed unreal.
Before Daemon could even process what happened,
Leo's elbow slammed into his gut with the force of a battering ram.
The air burst from Daemon's lungs in a choking gasp.
GASP!!!
He staggered back, clutching his stomach, teeth clenched in pain.
Leo's expression remained calm, even bored,
As if sparring with a reckless child.
Daemon, stubborn as ever,
Shifted his sword to his other hand and roared,
Thrusting straight for Leo's chest.
A fatal mistake.
Leo's crimson-edged blade flashed once—
SWIIIISSSSSH!!!
A blur of motion—
And Dark Sister split in two.
The upper half of the sword spun through the air before landing uselessly in the dirt.
The Rogue Prince froze,
"____"
Staring at the shattered remains of his ancestral blade which is made out of Valyrian steel one of the strongest metal known in this world.
Before he could react,
Leo twisted on his heel and drove a brutal kick into Daemon's chest.
THUD.
The impact thundered through the arena.
Daemon's body was flung backward like a rag doll,
Crashing into one of the tourney stand's wooden supports.
The timber cracked under the force,
Dust raining down as the section buckled.
The crowd screamed.
Rhaenyra shot to her feet in shock.
Alicent clutched her arm, eyes wide with disbelief.
Even King Viserys rose halfway, torn between awe and outrage.
Daemon slid to the ground, limp, unconscious—
Blood trickling from his mouth.
Leo stood in the arena's center,
The sun glinting off his armor, crimson eyes glowing faintly beneath his helm.
His blade dripped with dust and pride alike.
Silence hung heavy in the air… until the commentator's trembling voice echoed,
"V–victory goes to… His Majesty, King Leo of Eldoria!"
The crowd erupted.
The thunder of applause rolled through the tourney grounds like an ocean wave,
Cheeerrrr!!!
Though beneath it ran an undercurrent of shock and disbelief.
Leo sheathed his crimson-edged blade with calm precision,
Not even glancing at the unconscious prince being carried away by his Kingsguard.
Up in the royal stands,
Rhaenyra Targaryen was frozen in her seat,
Her heart pounding wildly.
She had seen knights before—
Arrogant, brutal, gallant—
But none like this.
The way Leo fought… it wasn't just skill.
It was control.
He didn't rage or boast.
Every move was deliberate, every strike clean, efficient, beautiful in its lethality.
He had beat down her uncle the one who many avoids.
For a moment,
"____"
The princess realized she hadn't breathed in nearly a minute.
Alicent's whisper broke the silence beside her.
"You're staring, Rhaenyra,"
She teased softly, a sly smirk tugging her lips.
Rhaenyra blinked, color rushing to her cheeks.
"I was merely—observing. He fights differently. Not like any knight I've ever seen."
"Mmh. Differently… or dangerously?"
Alicent countered, her green eyes shimmering with intrigue.
She, too, couldn't deny the magnetic pull.
Leo's presence commanded attention in a way even kings failed to—
Something ancient and quiet, like power that didn't need to shout.
Down in the arena,
Leo turned briefly toward the stands.
His crimson eyes met Rhaenyra's golden ones.
The connection was fleeting—
Barely a second—
But it hit like a jolt.
"____"
Her fingers tightened around the railing her lips parted slightly.
Alicent noticed,
And though she laughed softly,
Something unspoken flickered in her gaze—
A strange, competing curiosity.
At the royal dais,
King Viserys I leaned back in his seat,
Stroking his beard, his mind torn between admiration and apprehension.
"A king of some 'Eldoria,' he says…"
Viserys murmured, eyes narrowing.
Frown~
"Seven hells, I've never heard of such a kingdom."
Otto Hightower, ever the strategist, stepped forward and bowed slightly.
"Your Grace, with respect… a man who calls himself 'king' in the heart of King's Landing, defeats the heir's brother before thousands—such audacity deserves scrutiny."
Viserys frowned, torn.
Frown~
"He did no crime, Lord Hand. It was a duel, and Daemon agreed to it."
Otto's eyes sharpened.
"Indeed. And now your brother lies unconscious, his pride shattered, while this stranger walks the capital's streets with the crowd chanting his name."
The King said nothing,
"____"
But Otto's words sank deep.
The Hand smiled faintly, sensing opportunity.
"Perhaps, Your Grace, we should invite this… King Leo to the Red Keep. Better to know one's guest than fear one's stranger."
Viserys hesitated, then nodded slowly.
Nod~
"Aye. Send an invitation. A man who can best Daemon Targaryen should not be ignored."
As the sun dipped toward the horizon,
Casting the city in gold and shadow,
The people of King's Landing spoke of only one thing—
The foreign king in black,
Whose blade danced faster than sight and who felled a dragon's blood like he was nothing.
And in the high balcony of the royal keep,
Rhaenyra found herself glancing west toward the fading light, her lips curving unconsciously into a smile she couldn't explain.
Alicent stood beside her, hands folded, her gaze fixed on the same horizon.
"He'll be at the Keep tomorrow,"
She murmured.
"I wonder what kind of man hides behind that calm."
"Perhaps,"
Rhaenyra replied softly,
"A man even dragons should fear."
Their eyes met for a heartbeat—
Both knowing, both intrigued.
Far below, Leo mounted his horse and rode away,
The crowd parting before him like a tide before a storm.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N)I hope you guys are enjoying the story.
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give areview
And power stone!!!
It will Motivate Me.