Game of Thrones: Rise of the Supreme Dragon Queen

"Ahhh! No! Uncle, save me! Mourinho, I will curse you forever in hell—" Gandhi's screams from within the flames were inhuman.

The Grand Wise Master remained unmoved, though fear flickered in his eyes as he took a few steps back.

The crimson holy mark rapidly darkened, shifting from red to black. The flames, once bright, twisted into writhing shadows.

Like a living, wriggling entity, the initially small shadow began to stretch, slithering across the floor, creeping up the walls, and reaching the ceiling. The flickering firelight distorted its shape, making it dance in eerie sync with the burning wood.

An old crone raised her staff, chanting an enigmatic incantation while swaying her grotesque body in a lewd, provocative dance—an invitation, as if summoning an unknown presence to partake in her twisted ritual.

Gradually, something responded.

The elongated shadow began splitting, forming what appeared to be outstretched arms and legs. The Grand Wise Master could even make out the distorted features of a face forming within the shadow's head.

"Demon… The demon has returned…" he muttered, his face ashen.

Countless twisting shadows writhed around the old crone as she danced, occasionally drifting through Gandhi's burning body.

The shadows from the abyss were long and dark, immune to any light. They painted black streaks across the flames, and even the beams of sunlight filtering through the skylight dimmed as if the very light had been extinguished. The once bright and warm training ground now resembled a desolate tomb.

An hour later, a group of servants entered the training ground in silence, sweeping away the ashes and clearing the grotesquely charred corpse beneath the skylight—a gaping maw frozen in an eternal grimace.

It was a strange contradiction. Though completely burned, the corpse emitted the stench of rotting flesh, as if what had been burned wasn't a living person, but a bloated cadaver exhumed from a grave, still oozing putrid fluids.

"Sigh… Another failure."

Walking through the underground passage leading to the pyramid, the old crone let out a weary sigh. "You saw it with your own eyes, Grand Wise Master. I truly gave it my all."

The Grand Wise Master clutched a warm, gem-encrusted wooden box, his expression unreadable. "Hmm."

"Then, arrange a ship for me to leave Yuan Kai tonight. It's been days already. The Mother of Dragons will soon lay siege to the city. At my age, I can't afford to be bathed in dragonfire," the old crone chuckled.

Their footsteps echoed through the dimly lit passageway. After a long silence, the Grand Wise Master spoke in a low voice, "Don't be so hasty. You'll be safe inside the pyramid."

"Oh? You haven't given up yet?" The old crone raised an eyebrow.

Taking a deep breath, a cold glint flashed in the Grand Wise Master's eyes. "Can you make the shadow demon kill that woman?"

"You're dreaming," the crone scoffed. "Forget the silver-haired queen protected by dragons—even harming a mere mortal like you is beyond my power."

"But you killed Gandhi! You've killed many!" he snapped through gritted teeth.

"Sacrifices and murder are not the same," she sighed. "If my dark magic could kill from a distance, the Zebramen of Jogh Sneg Grasslands would have been wiped out long ago.

"But reality is, if I were to face an ordinary Zebraman youth in battle, he could easily take my head." She shook her head in resignation.

The Grand Wise Master cast her a suspicious glance. "I recently heard a rumor from Westeros—an army of thousands encircled a king's camp, yet a shadow slipped inside and slit his throat as if cutting paper."

"Heh," the crone chuckled. "If everyone believes that, the true culprit behind the king's murder will enjoy their victory in peace. Political intrigue—Grand Wise Master, isn't that your expertise?"

"Are you saying sorcery is incapable of such feats?" he asked, hesitating.

Truthfully, he found it hard to believe. If magic were truly so powerful, why would the Ghiscari and the Dragon Queen's armies still be locked in bloody battle?

And yet…

"Then what about the legends of the Rhoynar using water magic to fight dragons? Were those lies too?"

"The destruction of cities by water magic likely did happen," the crone admitted, the deep wrinkles between her brows furrowing even further. "But that involved divine intervention.

"The Rhoyne River may have once birthed a nature deity—the very god worshiped by the Rhoynar.

"If someone truly has the power to command shadows to kill, then he must be even more terrifying than a dragon. Because behind him, there must also be a god—the Shadow God, R'hllor!"

"You also channel R'hllor's power. Why can't you command shadows to kill?" The Grand Wise Master was unwilling to accept defeat.

The crone rolled her eyes. "How much pocket money do you give your son each month? And how much did that dead fool Gandhi ever get from you?"

The Grand Wise Master's expression darkened. "If Gandhi were as exceptional as Dax, I would have spoiled him just as much."

"Well, I, too, wish I were R'hllor's most favored sorceress," she said flatly. "But I'm not."

"I advise you to stop fantasizing," she continued. "Even if Westeros truly has someone who can kill with shadows—if the rumors are true—then that person must be a high-ranking Red Priest, deeply versed in dark magic.

"And even if you somehow brought that Red Priest here, he still wouldn't be able to kill the Dragon Queen."

"You're saying her slender little neck is stronger than steel?" The Grand Wise Master sneered.

"Heh. Let me put it this way—no magic in the mortal realm can harm a Dragonlord! Otherwise, how do you think the Valyrians ruled the world?"

"What if her dragon isn't by her side?" he pressed.

"Sigh. If you truly want to assassinate her, you'd be better off hiring the Faceless Men.

"The New Ghiscari hired me to hatch dragons for them, and even that only cost them 200,000 gold coins.

"But 200,000 gold wouldn't even cover a fraction of the price for the Faceless Men's services.

"Think carefully about why that is."

"Hmph, we already—"

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps.

By now, they had emerged from the tunnel between the arena and the pyramid, ascending the staircase with the aid of four servants.

"Grand Wise Master, something is happening outside the city!" A breathless man in a yellow silk cloak rushed forward, his face anxious.

Mourinho handed the box containing the dragon egg to a nearby servant, dusted off the ashes from his tokar robes, and said indifferently,

"So, the Slave Queen has finally lost patience and is ready to attack?"

"No, the centaurs are gone!"

"What?"

"The centaur scouts who had been stationed outside the eastern and southern gates have disappeared."

Yuankai was not a perfectly square city. Its northern and western sides were built along a curved coastline, both lined with docks. The city only had gates on the eastern and southern sides.

For the past few days, the centaur cavalry had been stationed 500 meters outside the city, blocking all land routes in and out of Yuankai.

"If they've left, then send out scouts immediately to investigate their camp!" the Grand Sage ordered with a frown.

"General Grazdan had already sent people to check. The militia who had been building siege weapons along the main road earlier are also gone. The enemy camp is shut tight, and there's not a single person outside."

"What do Grazdan and the Ragged Prince say?" the Grand Sage asked urgently.

"They couldn't make up their minds, so they sent me to seek your counsel," the soldier replied.

The failed cavalry raid, which had played right into the Dragon Queen's trap, had cast a lingering shadow over the morale of Yuankai's defenders. In the morning, the centaur scouts disappeared. By noon, the workers on the main road outside the city had vanished as well. The leaders had debated all afternoon but still hadn't come up with a response.

As dusk fell, a few mercenaries who had taken their severance pay risked sneaking toward the "Northern Liberation Army's" camp. The result—

"Your Excellency, there are no guards near the enemy camp at all. We used the cover of darkness to sneak up to the left side of the camp and found that what appeared to be a tall wooden palisade was actually just a thin layer of planks," reported a short, 1.5-meter-tall dark-skinned mercenary.

Grazdan stiffened, casting a glance at Zidane, the leader of the "New Sons" mercenary company, before asking, "Are you saying the slave rebels' camp is just a facade?"

"Worse than that," another middle-aged mercenary said oddly. "I tried slicing it with a dagger, and it left a hole as big as a bowl."

Zidane still looked bewildered, but the old sword-poet, Danzel, suddenly paled. "Damn it, we've been tricked. The Dragon Queen deliberately led us to the front of the camp, but in reality, only the main gate is real—the rest of it..."

"But why?" The Ragged Prince's expression grew heavy.

"Did you enter the camp? There are three sections—front, middle, and rear—spanning ten kilometers in total," Grazdan hurriedly asked the scouts.

"How could we dare? But through the hole, we saw the camp packed with soldiers holding spears. They seemed to be in full battle readiness. Even at night, they didn't light a single fire. Who knows what they're up to?" The dark-skinned mercenary shuddered.

"Damn it, they're waiting for us to raid them!" Grazdan blurted out.

"So that's it. They deliberately let us discover the camp's weakness, and then..." The Ragged Prince initially nodded in agreement but suddenly froze mid-sentence.

"If we found their camp to be weak, would we actually attack? Or rather, would we even dare to launch a night raid?" He looked around the room, posing the question.

"Well..." Grazdan's face turned red. "You lowly mercenary captain, what are you suggesting? That the proud son of the Harpy wouldn't even dare to steal a chicken if the opportunity arose?"

Except... maybe they really wouldn't dare.

That thought hit him like a hammer.

Though he had only faced the Dragon Queen twice, the aftermath of both encounters had been utterly devastating. Despite her youth, her battlefield tactics were as unpredictable as a wild stallion, making it impossible to keep up with her pace.

Grazdan had been a Legion captain for ten years, having fought countless pirates and bandits. He was an expert in both naval and land warfare. Yet that woman... she was supposedly illiterate, a lifelong wanderer with no formal education. And yet...

"So... do we attack or not?" Zidane asked hesitantly.

Silence fell over the room. The Ragged Prince, the fleet commander, Grazdan, the Grand Sage—every general present hesitated.

"The question is whether the Dragon Queen wants us to attack or not. We must do the opposite of whatever she expects," Danzel said grimly.

"Then... does she want us to attack?" Seven or eight people asked in unison.

Danzel's expression twisted. After a long pause, he finally admitted, "I... don't know."

"If we can't figure it out, then let's not try," a voice chimed in lazily.

It was Azan, the "Shit Man." "The answer is obvious. If intelligence had weight, then even if we combined all of ours, it wouldn't be half of hers."

"So let's just fight a stupid battle—stick to the plan and hold the city. Pretend we didn't even notice the centaurs disappearing."

"Stop fantasizing about ambushes and clever tricks. You can't outplay her."

Dozens of eyes turned toward Azan. Some were filled with contempt, but many more showed admiration.

Despite his foul mouth, Azan was the wealthiest man in Yuankai for a reason—he did have a certain kind of wisdom.

After some whispered discussion, the Grand Sage finally announced, "That's what we'll do. Everyone, go back and get some rest. Whatever happens outside, we will ignore it.

"As long as we maintain morale and defend the city, we are guaranteed to win."

Unfortunately, he was too optimistic.

Sometimes, even if you want to bury your head in the sand, reality won't let you.

Around ten o'clock that night, over a hundred messenger ravens arrived in Yuankai, all delivering the same news:

At noon today, the Dragon Queen had led an army of fifty thousand to launch a surprise attack on Meereen.

We... are utterly doomed.

(End of Chapter)

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