Game of Thrones: Rise of the Supreme Dragon Queen

It was precisely because Dany was serious—truly committed, rather than just shouting empty slogans—that others hated her so much.

Hatred born from deep-seated fear.

Braavos had raised the banner of "slave liberation" for centuries, yet the other city-states, which thrived on the slave trade, remained largely indifferent.

When Braavos used "abolishing slavery" as an excuse to attack Pentos, Myr, Volantis, and Tyrosh merely watched from the sidelines, making no move to intervene.

But Dany never declared to the world that she was abolishing slavery. She simply carried out large-scale production in a remote corner of the world—yet the Ghiscari Alliance came after her, while Qarth and Volantis sharpened their blades, preparing for war against her.

Even Braavos, which had long opposed slavery, sent a Faceless Man to assassinate her.

In just half a year, Dany had gone from quietly farming to becoming the world's enemy. Any mercenary with a shred of foresight doubted her chances, even with three dragons at her command.

That was why Daario Naharis truly respected her, and why the Ragged Prince sought the power of her dragons. Yet neither wished to serve her.

They had no desire to become martyrs.

"If Pentos has no real military force, wouldn't two thousand elite foot and cavalry soldiers from the Windblown be enough?" Dany asked, puzzled.

"Your Grace, you've been to Pentos; you must know how high and thick its walls are," Daario said with a wry smile. "Because they are restricted in military strength, the Pentoshi have poured their efforts into fortifying their city walls."

"And Braavos' stance remains uncertain. The mere reputation of the Mother of Dragons is enough to keep them from intervening directly."

Dany furrowed her brows. The Windblown were playing this too smart. Two thousand elite mercenaries were indeed a formidable force, but they were only willing to fight for her at Yunkai—never pledging themselves to her cause permanently.

Even the Ragged Prince, after seizing Pentos, had no intention of swearing loyalty to her.

Deploying her dragons to aid in the siege was easy—but could she withstand the pressure from Braavos?

Braavos had the world's largest navy, the most advanced shipbuilding capabilities, the strongest industrial production, and the deadliest assassins—the Faceless Men.

And then there was the Iron Bank. That alone could cost her half her life.

The Iron Bank—the creditor of the entire world.

The total amount of gold held by all the world's banks combined still couldn't match the reserves of the Iron Bank alone.

Did the Ragged Prince already consider her a dead woman?

A dead person had nothing to fear, no matter how much blame was heaped upon them. After all, what worse fate could there be beyond death?

The more Dany thought about it, the more displeased she became. But she couldn't reject them outright.

A mercenary company of two thousand elite foot and cavalry soldiers was strong enough to rank among the top five on the Essos continent. If forced into a direct confrontation, Dany estimated she would lose just as many troops.

"I'm not one for empty words. In different circumstances, at a different time, I would refuse you without hesitation. But given the current situation, the Windblown's stance could determine the outcome of a major battle. In that case, the Ragged Prince's conditions aren't entirely unreasonable," she said thoughtfully.

Daario nodded to himself. Exactly.

It was because they saw the Mother of Dragons in a precarious position that they dared to propose such harsh terms.

—He and the Ragged Prince both understood just how heavy the burden of Braavos was, how suffocating its pressure could be. Enough to crush the Mother of Dragons—again.

Yes, again.

Dany had long since stopped worrying about being blamed.

She had already shouldered the massive burden of "abolishing slavery"—what was one more from Braavos?

"Knock, knock, knock."

Dany lightly tapped the armrest of her chair and asked in a soft voice, "Are you familiar with Illyrio Mopatis?"

Daario's eyes flickered as he nodded. "A Magister of Pentos, mainly dealing in spices, gemstones, and dragonbone. I've heard that your three dragon eggs came from his acquisitions in the Shadow Lands."

"That's right. Illyrio gifted me those dragon eggs. He also sheltered Viserys and me from assassins multiple times, allowing me to live like a princess in his home for half a year.

Later, when I wandered to Qarth, he sent three ships to bring me back for my restoration. My naval commander, Ser Groleo, and half of my sailors are his men."

She looked at Daario and said firmly, "If this were another city, I might have agreed to the Ragged Prince's terms. But I will never invade a friend's city.

In fact," she continued, "if Illyrio asked, I would take Pentos for him without hesitation—and I wouldn't ask for a single copper in return."

Then, with a resolute voice, she declared, "Targaryens always repay their debts!"

Red-haired Lyra, the beautiful Meris, and the warrior-poet Daario all had twisted expressions at that moment.

If Duke Tywin Lannister were here, would he be driven mad with rage?

After all, House Lannister's words were "Hear Me Roar," but Dany wasn't exactly breaking the rules.

"Magister Illyrio could never become Prince of Pentos," Daario said hesitantly. "He was born a commoner—he lacks the blood of the Forty Families."

Dany chuckled. "The Ragged Prince certainly has no intention of remaining a puppet. Once he takes power, what do you think will happen to the ruling Magisters? I won't throw my benefactor into the fire."

Casually, she shifted the burden onto her "friend" Illyrio's shoulders.

"Here's my offer: I won't demand the Windblown's loyalty. I only ask that you take a passive role in Yunkai. If I succeed in capturing the city and you gain Illyrio's approval—when I receive his letter—I will send my dragons to help you take Pentos."

"This..."

That was, at least, better than an outright refusal.

"I can't decide this alone. I'll have to discuss it with the Ragged Prince," Daario said hesitantly.

"That's fine. We'll talk again tomorrow night. You can tell your leader that I'm demanding too much and refusing to back down, so you have no choice but to seek his guidance."

"Thank you, Your Grace." Daario bowed respectfully, then found Zidane outside the tent and rode through the night back to Yunkai.

Meanwhile, Meris obediently returned to the prisoner camp.

Under the moonlight and starlit sky, two knights rode back in silence, listening to the rhythmic sound of their horses' hooves.

Suddenly, the Braavosi glanced around cautiously and whispered, "Did we succeed?"

"No."

Why?"

"The Dragon Queen insists on a ransom four times the normal price," Danzō lowered his voice as well.

"Well, it's not like we're paying for it—the Wise Master is. Besides, given the current situation, she's not exactly asking for an outrageous amount," Zidane said, puzzled.

"Heh, I did it on purpose. I'll report back to the commander tonight and continue negotiations tomorrow," Danzō said mysteriously.

Zidane suddenly realized what was happening. He clapped the old poet on the shoulder and chuckled softly, "You sly old fox! Another day of delay for Yunkai—His Excellency the Wise Master should reward you handsomely for this."

"It's not really a delay. As you can see, the Mother of Dragons needs time to craft siege weapons," Danzō shook his head.

When this was reported back, the Wise Master did indeed reward Danzō with 500 gold glory coins.

Upon hearing Zidane's intelligence, the Wise Masters and mercenary leaders were so pleased that they partied half the night in the Great Pyramid.

By the time Danzō returned to the Windblown's commander's chambers at dawn, he recounted everything in detail.

"So, Illyrio has such a deep connection with that woman..." The Ragged Prince stroked his grizzled beard thoughtfully before asking, "Do you know how long their army's food supplies will last?"

Danzō replied, "Longer than we initially expected. The Unsullied sent us a dinner portion that included half a pound of wild boar meat. I observed carefully—nearly every soldier got a piece of meat."

"Hmph, the nearby forest is only so big. How long can they sustain themselves on hunting?"

"Then, Commander, what do you mean?" Danzō asked in confusion.

The Ragged Prince let out a cold chuckle. "Tomorrow, tell that woman I agree to her 'Plan B.' In the coming days, the Windblown will take part in battles but hold back—minimizing our involvement in the slaughter of the slave army.

"But when she can no longer hold out and reconsiders my 'Plan A,' she should use the ransom negotiations for the Ghiscari prisoners as an excuse—sending back a yellow silk cloak as a signal.

"At that point, we will automatically reach a new agreement: Illyrio takes his wealth and leaves, while she helps me conquer Pentos."

Danzō looked at his gray-haired commander with admiration and gave a thumbs-up. "Brilliant, absolutely brilliant!"

"Heh heh heh..."

"Heh heh heh..." Dany coldly chuckled as she stared at the blood contract in her hand.

The next day, Danzō and Zidane once again left Yunkai early and spent the evening dining at Dany's camp.

Though their objectives differed, they shared the same surprise: today's meat portions were a quarter thinner than yesterday's, the porridge seemed more watery, and the Dragon Queen returned even later than before.

That night, during negotiations, Danzō noticed that the Dragon Queen looked more exhausted than she had the previous evening. Something was weighing on her mind.

Could it be... they were running out of food?

The negotiations proceeded smoothly. Despite the queen repeatedly declaring, "Even if I, Daenerys, suffer total defeat, even if my entire army perishes and I die in battle, I will never betray my friends," she still signed her name on the contract without hesitation.

By noon the next day, inside Yunkai's Glahaz Giant Arena—

With the arrival of the Mother of Dragons, Yunkai entered a state of full military lockdown. Entertainment events such as gladiatorial fights and courtesan parades were all suspended.

The Glahaz Giant Arena, which belonged to His Excellency the Wise Master, was no exception. The grandstands and fighting pits were eerily empty, save for the muffled sounds of gladiators training in a nearby stone hall.

"No, Uncle! Don't kill me! I don't want to die! Uncle—Wise Master—Uncle Mourinho, please—!"

A young man, barely eighteen or nineteen, wept and struggled in sheer terror.

The Glahaz Giant Arena had been carved into the ground, meaning the adjacent training yard was at least ten meters below street level.

The spacious stone-paved training ground had a ceiling with multiple basin-sized skylights, allowing golden sunlight to stream in. Dust particles, blackened from burning firewood, swirled visibly within the glowing beams.

At the center of the roughly 500-square-meter circular training yard stood a massive, waist-high white jade pillar. At its top rested a dazzling golden stone egg.

Its surface was covered in fine, scale-like patterns—resembling the skin of a baby dragon.

A golden dragon egg!

Around the pillar, the ground was painted with fiery red symbols forming a ring of flames.

—The sacred sigil of R'hllor, the Lord of Light, akin to the Faith of the Seven's seven-pointed star.

Each flame sigil was the size of an infant's palm, and together they formed a vast, spiraling vortex encircling the stone pillar.

From both the top and bottom of the pillar extended thick iron chains, binding the wailing young man by his wrists and ankles.

His long, straight black hair was soaked, clinging to his shoulders, and his silk toga and trousers dripped with a pale green liquid.

A strong scent of olive oil filled the air.

Around him, dry firewood was stacked high.

(To be continued...)

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