Game of Thrones: Rise of the Supreme Dragon Queen

After the fall of the Ghiscari Empire, the Ghiscari people were forced to abandon their capital—Old Ghis—and established four new city-states in the north and south. The most central city for the Ghiscari was New Ghis, located along the Golden Route by the Summer Sea to the south. To the east of Slaver's Bay, three major cities emerged: Meereen, which specialized in the slave trade; Yunkai, known for training bed slaves; and Astapor, infamous for producing eunuch soldiers.

Both Meereen and Astapor were built at the mouths of freshwater rivers, strategically positioned along crucial maritime routes. Yunkai, situated between Meereen and Astapor, lacked convenient river access and was only 250 kilometers from Meereen. From a geographical standpoint, establishing another city so close seemed unnecessary.

After all, the Ghiscari population was small, only a few hundred thousand, and vast stretches of fertile land in Meereen and Astapor remained undeveloped.

However, Yunkai possessed an exceptionally fertile plain, making it a prime agricultural region. If it were part of the Celestial Empire during the Three Kingdoms era, Yunkai would have been comparable to the Guanzhong granary, the foundation of imperial ambitions.

Unfortunately, such a bountiful land had fallen into the hands of the decadent Ghiscari.

Or perhaps it was precisely because Slaver's Bay was so abundant, where one could survive with minimal effort, that the Ghiscari became corrupted by their luxurious lifestyle.

Regardless, Daenerys valued the Yunkai Plains as an essential source of grain.

She had even decided that if the slave masters complied and left the plains intact for her, she would show mercy to Yunkai's Wise Masters. After all, Yunkai specialized in training bed slaves, making them far less bloodthirsty than the Good Masters of Astapor.

Regrettably, her goodwill was met with betrayal.

Three days after Drogon delivered The Mother of Dragons' Proclamation to the Citizens of Yunkai, Daenerys arrived at the Yunkai Plains on a scorching afternoon. The sun shone brightly over the land.

She gently pulled the reins of her silver mare, bringing it to a halt.

The view before her stretched endlessly—a vast expanse of scorched black earth, tendrils of white smoke rising from the charred ground. The overwhelming contrast of black and gray seemed to smother even the golden sunlight, as if the world had been stripped of all color.

The silver mare whinnied nervously, shifting its hooves in small, anxious steps, seemingly disturbed by the searing heat beneath its hooves—or perhaps horrified by the grotesque forest of corpses lining the dirt road.

The wheat fields flanking the road had been set ablaze. Along the main path, three- to four-meter-tall wooden stakes had been erected. Tattered, ragged slaves were impaled upon them—some skewered through the abdomen, others from the anus, the sharp ends piercing through their chests, throats, and into their upper jaws.

Elderly men, young adults, children; men and women; pale-skinned, dark-skinned, brown-skinned, amber-skinned—it no longer mattered. No distinction could be made now. After nailing the slaves to the stakes, the Ghiscari had set fire to the surrounding fields.

Though the flames did not directly incinerate the corpses, the heat and smoke had the same effect as curing meat. The pitiful scraps of cloth and hair left on their bodies caught fire, flames licking at their skin. The blackened flesh oozed with a sickly, oily sheen. A faint scent of smoked meat lingered in the air—before being overtaken by a foul stench of excrement as the wind shifted.

Some bodies near the embankments had been burnt so badly that their swollen intestines burst, spilling rotting entrails onto the ground like grotesque sausages.

Blackened wheat fields, smoldering tree stumps, swirling clouds of gray and black ash—this was a scene straight from the depths of hell.

Fifty thousand soldiers stood in silence, their fists clenched.

"Damn them! Damn them all!" Ser Barristan's face was ashen, his white beard trembling as his jaw tightened in fury.

"They will die," Daenerys declared. Though her helm concealed her expression, the cold, murderous intent in her voice was unmistakable.

The forest of corpses stretched before her, each body deliberately positioned to face south. Their mouths were gaping open, revealing the wooden spikes lodged inside, while their bulging, lifeless eyes seemed to stare directly at Daenerys.

At the forefront, a woman's corpse had been grotesquely altered. A wooden plaque hung around her neck, her hands gripping the edges of the board. From the corners of her mouth to her ears, her cheeks had been sliced open, forcing a grotesque, clown-like grin.

Painted in white on the dark wooden plaque was a message: The slaves have come to welcome you, Slave Queen!

"Yunkai is still thirty kilometers away, and the sun is high. We press on." Daenerys turned her horse, leaving the dirt road to traverse the scorched fields.

"What about the bodies?" Red-haired Lyra asked hesitantly.

"Let the militia handle it." Daenerys signaled her Dothraki riders to relay orders to the militia five kilometers behind them.

As the army advanced closer to Yunkai, the difference between quality warhorses and pack animals became increasingly apparent. The formation of Daenerys' fifty-thousand-strong force stretched for miles, growing longer with each passing hour.

A hundred kilometers behind, hundreds of laborers drove water buffalo and led spare horses northward at a slow pace.

Had this been a stalemate between evenly matched forces, a few enemy raiding parties could have easily thrown Daenerys' army into chaos.

Iron hooves trampled the warm, scorched earth, sending up sparks and clouds of dust. The gray ash left from burnt wheat stalks whirled in the air like an eerie snowfall.

As they rode onward, the soldiers' hearts grew heavier. The forest of corpses was not an isolated sight.

Time and again, they encountered ruined estates, and before long, another grim display of impaled bodies would appear along the road.

Fields were burned. Estates were burned. Even the sprawling olive groves near the sea had been reduced to smoking stumps. The sheer scale of destruction gave rise to a suffocating sense of despair, a world consumed by fire and death.

Even the battle-hardened Ser Barristan was affected. Over the past two days, his face had darkened with sorrow, and he spoke little.

The following morning, Yunkai finally appeared on the horizon—a lone city rising from the scorched wasteland. The ten-meter-high walls were already lined with armored soldiers.

As Daenerys' banners came into view, movement rippled across the ramparts.

The Ghiscari had spotted them.

"I'm in a bad mood. I want to kill a few beasts to vent my anger," Dany turned to Barristan and said.

"We already have a plan," the old man hesitated.

"Don't worry, I haven't lost my mind. Only when they feel pain will they cooperate and cower like turtles. Here's what we'll do." Dany quickly shared her strategy with a dozen generals.

Two hours later, in a brick tower to the right of the Astapor city gate, a group of Ghis military officers were using spyglasses to observe the slowly passing army outside the city.

This tower wasn't particularly tall, just one of many sentry towers along the city wall, lower than the main tower above the city gate.

Such an inconspicuous tower was unlikely to become a target for dragons.

"Hahaha! The Great Master's strategy is truly brilliant. Look at them—those soldiers of the woman hang their heads, their leather armor covered in soot. A bunch of defeated strays!" Grazdan laughed gleefully, peering through the spyglass.

Through the lens, the soldiers indeed looked disheveled, their hair messy, their exposed skin smeared with black ash.

Slumped in a wide bamboo chair, the excrement-ridden Yunkish noble Yezan struggled to lift his head and asked the alluring attendant by the window, "Sweetheart, do you see the Dragon Queen?"

Yes, Yezan had come as well today.

But the narrow window was too high for him, and no one else wanted to crowd around him. So, it was his slave, Sweetheart, who held the spyglass.

Uh, "Sweetheart" was the name.

Sweetheart was slender, delicate-featured, with smooth skin, beautiful purple hair, and enchanting violet eyes. She wore a luxurious dress adorned with moonstone and Myrish lace, resembling a noblewoman from a castle.

"Master, the first rider is the Dragon Queen. She and her dragon have already headed south."

Sweetheart's voice was sweet and melodious, making even the nearby Great Masters shiver with pleasure.

Grazdan swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, then patted the hilt of his Valyrian steel scimitar and probed, "Yezan, you've always admired my Valyrian steel blade, haven't you? How about trading it for Sweetheart?"

Sweetheart didn't seem offended. Instead, she fluttered her lashes at Grazdan with a coy smile.

"Give it up, Grazdan! Sweetheart is mine! Not even the gods will take him from me!" Yezan snapped.

"Valyrian steel weapons are rare treasures!" Grazdan persisted.

"No matter how rare a Valyrian steel scimitar is, can it compare to my unique and irreplaceable Sweetheart?" Yezan remained unmoved.

Nearby, an old general with silver-gray hair and matching armor glanced at Yezan and Grazdan with disdain and scoffed, "The Mother of Dragons' fifty thousand-strong army is at our doorstep, yet you two are bickering over an androgynous freak? I'm beginning to doubt whether accepting Yunkai's employment was the right decision."

Strangely, the old general's cloak was ragged, sewn together from fabrics of different colors, making it look like a tattered robe.

Sweetheart twirled a lock of curly purple hair around a slender finger and giggled, "I may be both man and woman, but I am no freak!"

"Shut up! This is no place for a lowly creature like you to speak!" The Great Master turned, his sharp gaze cutting into the androgynous Sweetheart.

"Thud, thud, thud!" Yezan slammed his hands on the bamboo chair's armrests, shouting angrily, "Mullinio, you bastard, destined to be dragon food! How dare you yell at my Sweetheart? Do you believe I can't have you removed from your position as Great Master immediately?"

"Yezan, this is a critical moment. Even with your wealth and influence, you won't shake the Ghiscari coalition's trust in the Great Master," a Meereenese noble said coolly.

"Trust him?" Yezan sneered. "You fools, just wait and see how the Dragon Queen avenges those fifty thousand slaves!"

"Get this fat fool out of here. He's disrupting morale," the silver-haired old general pointed at Yezan.

"You ragged prince, telling me to leave? Do you know who's been feeding your two thousand beasts? Whose coin pays for their brothel visits?" Yezan retorted loudly.

Sweetheart leaned against Yezan, covering his mouth as he giggled. "Ragged Prince, the thirty thousand gold coins that hired the Windblown all came from my esteemed Master Yezan. In other words, it's Yezan who is truly your employer."

The leader of the Windblown, the Ragged Prince, stared at Yezan and Sweetheart with an indifferent gaze for a moment before turning to the Great Master. "The enemy has traveled nearly 600 kilometers in ten days, pushing their endurance to the limit. Your corpse forest strategy has also shattered their morale.

Facing such exhausted troops, are you really so afraid that you'll let them march leisurely past the city gates in formation?"

(End of Chapter)

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