Rhaenyra glanced sideways, her eyes cold and piercing.
Aegon quickly covered his mouth and coughed, recalling the saddest moments of his life.
The mature woman shifted her gaze to Rhaegar, who had not said a word. With a doubtful expression, she said, "Your Grace of the Iron Throne, don't you think a jealous woman is boring?"
She leaned forward, her deep-necked blouse exposing more as her upper body pressed down on her raised legs, revealing her ample chest. The posture was more seductive than that of the best bed slave.
Rhaegar remained calm, his expression unchanged. He looked at the Wise Masters next to the woman and said lightly, "We have come to negotiate with you, but where is your sincerity?"
His voice, still in High Valyrian, was full of a different kind of nobility.
"We have prepared two thousand Unsullied, as long as you can afford the price," the mature woman said, her eyes flashing with displeasure as she pulled up the collar of her blouse.
Rhaegar ignored her, continuing to stare at the silent Wise Masters. "The premise of the deal is that you surrender the city and release all the slaves," he said coldly.
"You may call yourself the Breaker of Chains, but we will not agree to your unreasonable demands," the mature woman retorted angrily.
The other Wise Masters remained silent, pretending to be deaf and dumb.
Rhaegar lowered his gaze to the woman and said coldly, "I'm talking to them, don't interrupt me."
With just one glance, the mature woman felt a lump in her throat. Her long legs subconsciously closed together, and she was embarrassed in public, wanting to refute him. But seeing his handsome, cold face, she found herself unable to speak. It was as if she were a female slave, afraid to disobey the orders of the Wise Masters.
The scene froze for a moment, and finally, several male Wise Masters began to speak.
One of them, with triangular eyes and a shaved head, weighed the whip in his hand and said sternly, "Astapor is a slave city-state. Losing slaves is no different from killing us."
"That's none of my business," Rhaegar said indifferently. "You worship the false Aethyrys Dragonlords, and you must pay the price."
The bald Wise Masters looked at each other coldly. "We can sell you more Unsullied to kill the false Dragonlord."
"How many?" Rhaegar immediately responded.
"Two thousand five hundred, no more," the Good Master said through gritted teeth. "We only have five thousand trained Unsullied, and we can't sell them all to you."
"Not enough." Rhaegar held up three fingers and said firmly, "Five thousand Unsullied, five hundred gold dragons each."
"You're robbing us!" the bald Good Master shouted, furious.
The normal price for an Unsullied is 800 gold dragons, with a discount for buying in bulk. The price of 500 gold dragons per person was far too low to buy all the Unsullied. It was just wishful thinking.
Rhaegar laughed, pointed at the sky, and asked, "With three dragons overhead, what do you think I'm doing?"
"Roar!"
Cannibal, in perfect sync with him, soared through the air and spat out a stream of miserable green Dragonfire, obscuring the blinding sun.
The sight of the Dragonfire, combined with the roar, left not only the bald Wise Masters but everyone present in shock. They looked up at the blue sky and saw the three dragons circling overhead, like three ominous war machines.
"By the Harpy!" The mature woman's eyes went vacant, and her crotch was wet.
It took a long time for the Wise Masters to recover from their shock. After some careful consideration, they made a decision.
The bald Good Master looked miserable: "We agree, but your fleet must withdraw from the Worm River."
As long as the slave trade was restored, money would always flow in.
Rhaegar smiled slyly and said, "No problem. The money is right behind us."
He then stepped aside to reveal the caravan escorted by the Second Sons.
The bald Wise Masters saw this and their faces brightened a little: "Deal."
"Wait!" Rhaegar stopped them and held out his hand: "Give me the whip that commands the Unsullied."
One of the Wise Masters immediately interrupted: "We need to finish counting the money first."
The other Wise Masters hesitated, rubbing the whip in their hands.
Rhaegar sneered, "Do you think I would bother to fool with three dragons at my command?"
Upon hearing this, the Wise Masters looked up at the sky again. The three dragons circled slowly, the largest of them, a pitch-black dragon, was comparable to a large pyramid.
The bald Wise Masters gave in and ordered a slave to fetch a whip. The whip was beautiful and placed on a tray. The mature woman got up of her own accord, holding the tray in both hands and walking down the steps, bowing respectfully as she handed it over.
"Thank you," Rhaegar took the whip directly.
The whip was similar to a dragon-taming whip, with a golden statue of the eagle-goddess Gwyllion as its handle. Rhaegar gave Rhaenyra and Aegon a look, then walked out of the pavilion with the whip in his hand.
On the barren land, 5,000 Unsullied in black armor stood in perfect formation, like a dark cloud.
Boom!
Cannibal descended slowly, raising its head high. Rhaegar climbed onto the dragon's back, overlooking all the Unsullied from a high vantage point, and shouted with his whip in hand, "Unsullied, obey my command!"
Swish!
The 5,000 Unsullied moved at the sound of the whip, forming a single column in a single direction.
"This thing is no better than a dragon tamer's whip," Rhaegar looked on with a complex expression. "Unfortunately, the price is the loss of humanity."
The Unsullied, to put it plainly, were a group of mindless zombies. Whoever holds the whip commands them.
In the pavilion at the back, the Wise Masters sent someone to check the money and drink a celebratory toast in advance.
"Unsullied, who is your master?" Rhaegar stood on the back of the dragon, his voice spreading far and wide with the help of a spell that amplified his words through the dragon.
Swish!
Five thousand Unsullied struck their round shields with their spears, silently pledging their loyalty. Rhaegar's lips curled up, a sense of accomplishment welling up in him.
On the other side, the slave who was checking the money opened the boxes one by one, finding not a single gold dragon coin. All that could be seen were lumps of worthless rock.
"They're fake!" The slave hurried back to the pavilion, breaking the harmonious atmosphere of the Wise Masters.
"What? No gold coins?!" The Wise Masters' faces turned pale, their wine cups shattering to the ground.
Roar!
Cannibal raised its head and roared, turning its long neck towards the pavilion. Rhaegar's face was solemn, and his voice was loud and clear: "Unsullied, kill the Wise Masters in front of you, kill the soldiers, and kill everyone who carries a whip!"
"No! This is a trick!" The Wise Masters were stunned and fled in a panic.
However, it was too late.
Swish!
The 5,000 Unsullied received their orders and without hesitation, pointed their spears at the very beings who had oppressed them in the past.
Pop!
The spears pierced the mercenaries' bodies and the slave soldiers' chests. The pavilion was surrounded, and the fleeing Wise Masters were swiftly eliminated. The negotiation had instantly turned into a massacre.
Rhaenyra's purple eyes were sharp as she spotted the mature woman fleeing in panic. With a single motion, she unsheathed her sword from her waist.
Clang~~
The Realm's Delight was unsheathed, its sun-carved pattern glistening in the light. "Ha ha, don't run," she muttered, her excitement barely contained.
Aegon, equally exhilarated, shouted, "Dracarys, Sunfyre!"
Roar!
The golden Sunfyre descended, smashing through the roof of the pavilion. Simultaneously, the Cannibal soared into the air, carrying Rhaegar, and unleashed Dragonfire upon the confused mercenaries. Syrax followed closely behind, targeting the slave soldiers on the city walls.
"No! Don't!" screamed a Good Master.
"Run! There's a rebellion!" shouted another.
Inside the Free Cities, a fire broke out, and the chaotic cries of battle filled the air. In an instant, the scene transformed into a gruesome scene of blood and fire.
...
It was getting late; dusk was falling over Astapor.
"Roar..."
Syrax stood on the city wall, intimidating the countless slaves who bowed down in worship. Smoke filled the air of the Free Cities, and two dragons soared through the sky.
Rhaegar stood beside the dragons, with 5,000 Unsullied standing straight at the foot of the city.
"Unsullied, step forward!"
Rhaegar held a whip in his hand and shouted.
Swish!
The 5,000 Unsullied moved forward in unison at the sound of the whip.
Rhaegar wiped his bloodied cheek and shouted, "You have been slaves your whole lives, but today you are liberated!"
The Unsullied's faces were numb, and they raised their heads slightly.
Rhaegar threw the whip down from the city wall and boldly declared, "Anyone can leave freely without being harmed. I promise!"
The Unsullied's eyes, which were like pools of stagnant water, began to waver, unable to believe their ears. Perhaps, it was another test of loyalty from the slave owner.
"Roar..."
Syrax roared, and the dragon's head reached out to Rhaegar.
Rhaegar did not look away, clenched his fists, and shouted, "The ancient Valyrians enslaved life, and they destroyed for it. Astapor enslaved life, and today it is also in ruins. No one can enslave another, and those who do so will surely die!"
Rhaegar looked around and said bluntly, "Who will fight for me, for Rhaegar Targaryen the First? Today, as free men!"
Silence followed—deadly quiet, you could hear a pin drop. The 5,000 Unsullied saw him, heard him, and fell into a deep silence.
Suddenly, several figures walked out of the city gates. Grey Worm, wearing rags and carrying a three-pronged black helmet under his arm, walked forward step by step. The rest of them were either wearing black armor or carrying broken shackles. Their faces were solemn as they walked towards the army of Unsullied.
One step, two steps...
When they were less than 100 meters away, Grey Worm suddenly turned around and knelt on one knee:
"Rhaegar Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and of the Narrow Sea, Settler of the Disputed Lands, Breaker of Chains, Shepherd of Dragons..."
The endless list of titles dwarfed the great deeds of the present.
Grey Worm's eyes were wild with devotion as he said, "Wherever your sword points, we will follow you!"
Clang!
The rest of the men fell to their knees and threw off their shackles and chains like they were worn-out shoes.
Rhaegar silently looked down, drew Truefyre, raised it high, and shouted only one word: "Blood and Fire!"
The 5,000 Unsullied were all moved, and their numb faces were infused with new life.
Dong dong!
A figure stepped forward and struck the ground with a spear. Like a single spark igniting a prairie fire, the action spread through the army.
Swish!
More and more Unsullied stepped forward, banging the ground in a cathartic manner. The force was so great that it sounded like the beating of a dense drum. The ground trembled for miles around.
Aegon stood in the ruins of the pavilion, dumbfounded, his jaw hanging loose. Within the Free Cities, tens of thousands of slaves surged forward, all shouting the same thing: "Blood and fire!"
"Roar!!"
Cannibal roared wildly, and the wings of death enveloped the Free Cities, dispersing filth and resentment.
Rhaegar stood with his head held high, his eyes closed, and his mind lost in the chant. The Targaryen rule would last forever.
"Rhaegar."
Rhaegar's head tilted slightly as he heard the soft call. Rhaenyra, her long, silvery-gold hair stained with blood, walked silently to his side and whispered, "Well done."
Rhaegar's nostrils flared, and he smelled the rich, bloody scent. He opened his eyes and saw two beautiful faces. Rhaenyra's eyes were like waves, and her eyebrows were full of pride. Her hands hung down naturally, holding a woman's head covered in terror.
"Do you like it?"
Rhaenyra smiled and tilted her head to the side: "Come with me and look at it slowly on the bedside table."
Rhaegar was momentarily dazed, and then immediately laughed.
(Word count: 2,081)