As Prince Oberyn spoke, Karl unconsciously tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair.
Of course, he knew about the Faceless Men.
Anyone familiar with the darker legends of Essos had heard whispers about the assassins of Braavos. However, Karl's understanding was limited. The original stories and television adaptations had only briefly touched on them, never exploring the finer details of their methods, poisons, or rituals.
Things like the Strangler poison were little more than names to him.
But for Oberyn Martell, the infamous Red Viper of Dorne, such matters were very real.
Poisons were practically part of the man's blood.
As Karl listened carefully to Oberyn's explanations regarding toxins commonly associated with the Faceless Men, the fragmented clues in his mind slowly began forming a clearer picture.
The more he heard, the more convinced he became that Robert Baratheon's death likely had nothing to do with House Martell.
At first, Karl had suspected Oberyn.
After all, the Red Viper possessed both the knowledge and the motive.
But now, after meeting him personally, Karl realized something important.
If Oberyn truly wanted Robert dead, there would have been no need for elaborate schemes involving hunting accidents and poisoned cupbearers.
The man sitting before him was proud, dangerous, and direct.
If House Martell had truly decided to assassinate Robert Baratheon, they would not have hidden behind tricks.
They would have wanted the entire Seven Kingdoms to know exactly who had done it.
Poisoning Robert's wine directly would have been enough.
There would have been no reason to involve a wild boar or disguise the murder as an accident.
No…
This felt different.
Far more subtle.
Far more professional.
And the more Karl thought about it, the more one possibility stood above all others.
The Faceless Men.
Karl remained silent for a few moments before finally speaking.
"I know some things about the Faceless Men," he admitted, "but not enough to fully understand their methods."
He looked directly at Oberyn.
"Prince Oberyn, do you believe Robert's death could be connected to them?"
Oberyn looked almost amused by the question.
In truth, he appeared to be in an exceptionally good mood tonight.
Perhaps hearing news of Robert's death had pleased him more than he cared to admit.
If they were not currently in King's Landing, surrounded by politics and danger, he might have openly celebrated.
Instead, the Red Viper simply leaned back lazily in his chair and pulled Ellaria Sand into his lap.
Then, directly in front of Karl, he kissed her deeply and shamelessly for nearly a full minute.
Only after finally releasing her did he raise his head again.
His eyes were filled with mocking provocation.
"Investigate it yourself," Oberyn said casually. "It has nothing to do with me."
He smirked slightly.
"And if you truly don't intend to chop off my head to stabilize your throne, then I believe I deserve an explanation."
At this point, Oberyn had already realized something important.
Karl did not truly believe House Martell was responsible.
Otherwise, he would never have come personally to question him in such a calm manner.
This entire situation was likely just a misunderstanding.
Karl smiled faintly.
"You'll receive an explanation," he replied. "As long as I confirm that Dorne truly had no involvement."
With that, he stood and drained the rest of the wine in his cup.
Then he turned toward the door.
However, just as his hand reached for the handle—
Pain exploded through his body.
A violent cramp twisted through his stomach and chest.
His vision spun instantly as dizziness slammed into his mind like a hammer.
Karl's breathing faltered.
The sudden agony was so intense that even his enhanced physique nearly failed him.
A muffled groan escaped his throat as his knees buckled beneath him.
He slammed one hand against the wooden door to stop himself from collapsing completely.
Behind him, Oberyn frowned.
"What's wrong with you?"
His voice carried irritation rather than concern.
"If you have something else to say, then speak."
Karl gritted his teeth.
Every word felt like broken glass scraping through his throat.
"The wine…"
His breathing became ragged.
"The wine is poisoned."
The moment the words left his mouth, the pain intensified.
His stomach twisted violently.
His throat burned as though someone had poured molten metal into it.
Darkness crept across the edges of his vision.
At that instant, Karl immediately opened his status panel instinctively.
Sure enough, a glowing green skull icon had appeared beside his health bar.
Poisoned.
And his health was steadily dropping.
Without hesitation, Karl summoned three items directly from his inventory.
An antidote.
A healing potion.
And an energy potion.
The antidote vanished down his throat first.
The effects were immediate.
The terrible cramps slowly weakened.
The tearing sensation in his throat faded.
The dizziness retreated bit by bit until his vision finally stabilized again.
Karl exhaled deeply as the poisoned status icon disappeared from his panel.
Only then did he quickly drink the healing and energy potions as well.
The moment he realized he had been poisoned, Karl had already prepared himself for the worst.
If the antidote failed, he had fully intended to risk exposing his greatest secret and enter the game world to search for a cure.
At a moment like this, survival mattered more than secrecy.
Fortunately, the magical items from his game world proved far more effective than ordinary medicine.
Behind him, Oberyn had already leapt to his feet the instant Karl shouted about poison.
The Dornish prince immediately threw away the wine goblet in his own hand.
Then he quickly examined himself.
No pain.
No dizziness.
Nothing.
Confusion filled his face.
He turned toward Ellaria.
"You drank too?"
Ellaria nodded nervously.
"I'm fine."
Now all three of them realized the terrifying truth at the same time.
Only Karl had been poisoned.
Oberyn's expression changed instantly.
"It was Scarlett," he said sharply.
"No… not Scarlett herself."
"A Faceless Man disguised as Scarlett."
Karl narrowed his eyes.
The logic made perfect sense.
According to everything known about the Faceless Men, they never killed randomly.
They only targeted those specifically named in a contract.
Their assassinations were not viewed as murder, but as sacred offerings to the Many-Faced God.
Death, in their religion, was considered a divine gift.
And because of that belief, Faceless Men followed strict rules.
They would not casually harm unrelated people.
Which explained why only Karl's wine had been poisoned.
Karl immediately remembered the serving girl from earlier.
Scarlett.
He recalled how nervous she had seemed while pouring the wine.
Her hand had trembled slightly, causing a few drops to spill onto her fingers.
At the time, it had appeared harmless.
Now it looked deliberate.
Karl wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.
Then, without warning—
BOOM!
He drove his elbow backward into the heavy wooden door behind him.
The thick oak exploded into splinters instantly under the monstrous force of the impact.
Wood fragments scattered throughout the corridor outside.
Karl strode through the ruined doorway immediately.
Outside, Barristan Selmy and several guards turned sharply toward the noise.
The old knight's expression changed the moment he saw Karl's face.
Blue veins still lingered across the young king's skin, and blood stained the corner of his lips.
"Your Majesty?!" Barristan exclaimed.
Karl ignored the concern entirely.
"Where is the girl who brought the wine?" he demanded coldly.
Arys Oakheart stepped forward uncertainly.
"What happened?"
Karl's patience snapped.
"She poisoned me."
The corridor fell silent.
"I suspect she's a Faceless Man."
Barristan's eyes widened instantly.
One of the guards cursed under his breath.
Barristan reacted quickly.
"She claimed the brothel owner sent her to deliver the wine."
"Which direction did she leave?" Karl interrupted immediately.
The old knight turned toward the other guards.
One of the newly appointed Kingsguard suddenly pointed toward a nearby stairway.
"She went downstairs," the knight said quickly. "Toward the alley outside."
He hesitated briefly.
"I noticed she had several extra gold coins in her hand, so I remembered her."
Karl moved to the corridor railing and looked downward.
Below, a narrow alley stretched into the darkness beyond the brothel.
Without hesitation, Karl turned back toward the guards.
"Arrest Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand."
Barristan looked shocked.
"Your Majesty—"
"Place them under guard in the Red Keep," Karl ordered coldly. "Until I return, no one leaves."
Though Oberyn was likely innocent, Karl could not ignore the situation.
The poison came from wine served inside Oberyn's establishment.
And politically, appearances mattered just as much as truth.
Without waiting for another response, Karl vaulted over the railing.
The drop to the street below was over ten meters.
Yet he landed heavily like a falling statue, the stone pavement cracking beneath his boots.
Then he sprinted toward the alley.
Upstairs, Oberyn had just emerged from the ruined room in time to hear Karl's orders.
His expression immediately turned bitter.
As Kingsguard knights and Gold Cloaks surrounded him with drawn swords, he slowly raised his hands.
In truth, even he understood how terrible this looked.
The king had been poisoned after drinking wine inside his brothel.
The serving girl came from his establishment.
And most importantly…
Only Karl had been poisoned.
No matter how innocent Oberyn might be, the situation was impossible to explain cleanly.
Still, he had noticed something important.
Even after nearly dying, Karl had remained calm enough to issue clear orders and pursue the assassin personally.
That meant there was still room for negotiation.
Oberyn sighed dramatically and spread his hands.
"Very well, gentlemen," he said lazily as the guards approached.
"I only ask for a comfortable bed."
Then his eyes suddenly shifted toward the shattered remains of one of Karl's potion bottles lying on the floor nearby.
Curiosity immediately flickered across the Red Viper's face.
"And perhaps," he added with great interest, "one of you could show me that miraculous potion your king drank."
"Even the empty bottle would do."
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