Game of Thrones: Rise of the Supreme Dragon Queen

"Wait a moment." Just as Dany was preparing to leave with her followers, Grazdan, adorned in pearl tassels, stretched out his hand to stop her. "Today, after completing such a grand deal, we are delighted to host a celebration at the Great Arena. Mother of Dragons, please join us. The people of Astapor will present the most spectacular performance for you."

"Right now?" Dany asked.

"The Great Arena is located just behind my pyramid—it is my property. If we head down now, we can immediately enjoy the gladiator matches," Grazdan said proudly.

Dany was reluctant. She didn't need to imagine how bloody and cruel slave gladiator matches could be. However, since the host had extended an invitation, declining might make her seem out of place.

— In the world of slave trading, every participant is complicit.

It was like the drug deals in movies. If the seller offers you a sample and you refuse, saying, "I never touch this stuff," the deal would likely fall apart. Even undercover cops often play along with tradition to avoid suspicion.

"Very well," Dany nodded in agreement.

Immediately, a servant hurried to the rooftop garden, waving a red flag energetically. The Good Masters wasted no time and, with the help of their servants, settled into their sedan chairs and descended the pyramid from the rear exit.

Dany, however, was not offered a sedan chair, nor did the Good Masters mention preparing one for her.

Accompanied by Jorah, Barristan, and her other followers, Dany followed the Good Masters down the stone steps.

As they descended, Dany grew increasingly impressed by the ingenuity of Ghiscari architecture. For one, the pyramid's staircases alone had several interconnected systems.

Each of the pyramid's four sides featured climbable staircases, and internally, there was a spiraling stone staircase system. The interior staircases not only connected all the rooms inside the pyramid but also linked to the entrances of the exterior staircases.

Moreover, being spiral in design, the internal staircases were much gentler than the steep exterior ones. Riding a sedan chair up or down these stairs felt almost no different from walking on flat ground.

While descending the spiraling staircase, Dany passed spacious, well-lit stone rooms. In one, a group of white-haired scholars were teaching Grazdan's children. She caught the aroma of delicious food wafting from a stone kitchen, where the cooks fell silent as soon as the Good Masters arrived. Busy weavers, upon spotting the approaching entourage, stopped their work and knelt. She also passed by a wine cellar and a slave training room.

Every time the Good Masters descended or ascended the pyramid, it was akin to a king inspecting his domain.

And so they ruled over their small kingdoms, year after year, for more than five thousand years!

Perhaps their rule would continue for ten thousand or even a hundred thousand years—who could say?

As Grazdan had claimed, the Great Arena was indeed just behind his pyramid. Positioned on a central axis with the city gates of Astapor, the Plaza of Punishment, and the Great Pyramid, the arena stood as an imposing landmark.

The grand pyramid towered into the sky, but the massive arena was carved into the ground—a deep bowl-like pit with tiered seating of red bricks circling its perimeter.

Between the pyramid and the arena's grandstand lay a wide, underground stone passage, large enough for an elephant to pass through. On either side of the passage were stone cells with iron bars, housing slaves, gladiators, lions, colossi, wolf packs, and other "expendables" for the games.

"Hahaha, once I find a shadowbinder to hatch the dragon eggs, I'll build a dragon pit right here," one of the Good Masters ahead of Dany laughed, paying no attention to her and her followers.

"Watching a fire dragon devour a person would certainly be thrilling," another Good Master chimed in.

"Ahem. Even if you manage to hatch a dragon, have you thought about how to control it?" Euron spoke with a sly grin, his voice loud and clear in Valyrian.

"If you don't court disaster, you won't die. If you do, you certainly will. Keep tempting fate, and see what happens," Dany muttered under her breath, her tone sharp as grinding teeth.

The Good Masters were too far ahead to hear her words or notice her lips moving. However, Euron's remark echoed through the passageway, causing the Good Masters' laughter to abruptly cease.

Exchanging glances, the Good Masters had Kraznys, their "old friend," speak up. "Ser Euron, what are you trying to say?"

Feeling the sharp blade pressing against his lower back, Euron rubbed his nose and smirked. "I was merely suggesting that you all make a trip to the ruins of Valyria. There, you might find the secret to controlling dragons, along with countless dragon eggs. If we could work together, who knows what we might achieve?"

"Euron, this is not your place to speak," Dany rebuked loudly, cutting the conversation short.

As the Good Masters turned back around and resumed walking, Dany discreetly gestured for Aggo to withdraw the arakh pressed against Euron's back.

Euron reached behind and felt a faint warmth on his fingertips. Seeing a smear of red, he chuckled, "Your Grace, by tomorrow, I'll be a free man."

"That's tomorrow's matter. For today, this moment, you'll behave," Dany said coldly.

"Hu-ha, hu-ha, hu-ha!"

Blinding sunlight poured into the underground passage as they neared the exit, accompanied by thunderous chants of "Hu-ha!" from the arena above.

In the half-hour it had taken for Dany and the Good Masters to descend the pyramid, the arena had filled to capacity with black-and-red-haired Ghiscari spectators.

Compared to modern basketball or soccer stadiums, this Great Arena wasn't particularly large. Dany estimated it could hold no more than 3,000 spectators.

The central combat pit was a circular patch of dirt, 50 meters in diameter. At its center stood a towering, muscular man, clad only in a white cloth around his waist. He raised his arms and shouted "Hu-ha!" repeatedly, whipping the crowd into a frenzy.

The eight Good Masters had reserved seats at the highest point of the grandstand.

As a distinguished guest, Dany was offered a simple wooden chair one level below them, while Euron sat beside her. Jorah, Barristan, and the rest of her entourage had no seats at all.

"The Ghiscari are so arrogant!" Jorah muttered behind Dany. "We shouldn't have come here."

"The host has invited us; how could the guest refuse?" Dany sighed and tried to comfort Jorah. "We're here now. Let's just stay put. It'll be over by noon—these matches won't last long."

"They won't end quickly, Your Grace," Missandei interjected. "The masters often spend their entire day in the arena, eating both lunch and dinner here. Sometimes, the matches go on until nightfall."

Dany froze for a moment before sighing deeply. "We really shouldn't have come here."

Suddenly, the raucous chants of "Huha! Huha!" in the arena stopped. The muscle-bound man in the center retreated through the tunnel, and a middle-aged man in a yellow tokar robe emerged in his place, followed by a group of slaves.

The slaves efficiently hammered three wooden crosses into the center of the arena. Soon after, three little girls—around four or five years old—were brought out and tied to the crosses.

Another set of slaves followed, each carrying a large clay jar. They poured thick, sticky liquids over the heads of the girls.

Two of the girls, pale-skinned, began to sob softly. The third, a red-brown-skinned Dothraki girl, hesitated only for a moment before opening her gap-toothed mouth to greedily lick the honey dripping down her lips, her face lighting up with satisfaction and joy.

Before long, a sickly sweet, putrid, and fishy smell wafted toward Dany.

"For our great Sons of the Harpy, today's appetizer is called The Hungry Bear's Feast. Each girl has been doused with honey, fresh human blood, or rotting fish. Now, let us see which one the bear will choose first! What do you think, my lords and ladies?"

The announcer dramatically gestured toward the beast cage and began retreating down the tunnel. "And now, I present to you our star performer, hungry for ten long days—Brutus the Twenty-Eighth!"

A deafening roar filled the arena as the iron bars of the cage began to rise. A massive black bear, over three meters tall, squeezed through the opening, bending the thick iron bars slightly with its enormous strength.

The ground thundered as Brutus galloped across the dirt floor, kicking up a trail of red dust. Without hesitation, it charged straight toward the Dothraki girl still licking the honey off her lips.

"Crunch!"

The bear's maw, as wide as a basin, snapped shut like a farmer breaking sugarcane. Red juices dripped from the bear's furry mouth.

"Urgh!" Dany collapsed to her knees, retching violently as tears, snot, and bile spilled from her face.

"Hahaha! The Westerosi whore is frightened!" Kraznys sneered as he laughed with the other masters.

"Khaleesi, are you all right?" Missandei rushed to support Dany, while Jorah and Barristan looked on with worry.

"I'm fine," Dany muttered, still crouching on the ground.

Euron Greyjoy, watching with keen interest as the bear devoured its meal, turned to Grazdan and grinned. "Master Grazdan, this act is entertaining, but it lacks a certain thrill."

"Oh?" Grazdan rubbed his chin. "Do you have a better idea?"

Euron's lips curled mischievously. "During my sea voyages, we often grew bored. So, for fun, I'd toss a few barrels of blood into the water to attract sharks. Then, I'd throw in an equal number of my sailors, each armed with a dagger and a blood-soaked shirt. Now that was exhilarating!"

"Hmm…" Grazdan stroked his beard, visibly intrigued. "Not bad. That's an interesting concept—makes me want to build a floating arena. But won't you run out of sailors that way?"

"Run out?" Euron laughed dismissively. "You forget my profession, Master Grazdan. For us Ironborn, the seas belong to us. Treasures, women, men—whatever we need, we take. With just a little restraint during raids, I'll never run out of… entertainment."

"Euron," Dany interrupted coldly, standing abruptly. "If you say one more word, I'll throw you into the arena to provide a live demonstration."

Before Euron could react, Dany slapped him hard across the face.

His lazy smirk turned venomous, but Dany leaned in closer, her voice icy. "If you so much as flinch or fight back, I'll cut off one of your hands."

Then, under his hateful gaze, she slapped him again. And again. Seven or eight times in total, her palm stinging red by the end of it. Blood seeped from Euron's face, the scabs torn open by her blows.

The masters watched the spectacle with amused grins, pointing and laughing.

Once Dany had vented her fury and returned to her seat, Kraznys chuckled and said to the bloodied Euron, "Well, our little opening act was merely an appetizer. The real show is about to begin."

"In fact," the announcer's booming voice cut in, drowning out Kraznys's words, "it's time for our main event—The Big Bear and the Little Girl! Let us see if Brutus can defend his title as champion! And now, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you…"

"The fiercest bitch of them all!"

(To be continued)

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