Game of Thrones: Rise of the Supreme Dragon Queen

Two disheveled soldiers in yellow cloaks rushed toward the bright city gate, urgently carrying a stretcher.

"Be careful! Don't injure the Grand Master!" Lindgard shouted.

As he spoke, he stepped forward to steady the swaying stretcher.

Under the torchlight, the commander atop the city gate noticed that the stretcher was crudely fashioned from two spears and several pieces of leather armor.

Lying on it was a tall general clad in silver armor. His blue surcoat, worn over chainmail, was soaked in dark red blood, with an arrow shaft—its fletching removed—embedded in his left chest.

It was clear that the silver-armored general had taken an arrow to the chest and was in critical condition.

Just then, the sound of galloping hooves rumbled in the distance, followed by a flurry of arrows whistling through the air.

The enemy's mounted scouts were in pursuit!

Fortunately, they were still some distance away, and the two hundred remaining soldiers had huddled against the city walls, with a dozen more holding up shields at the perimeter.

As Lindgard carefully removed the wounded man's helmet, the gate commander's expression changed drastically. He shouted, "Quick! Open the gates! That's Supreme Commander Solskjaer of the infantry! Fetch a healer immediately!"

Few knew Lindgard, a minor figure, but Solskjaer was the Supreme Commander of Meereen's infantry—high-ranking and influential. Previously, he had overseen Yunkai's city defenses, effectively making him the gate commander's superior.

Seeing the Grand Master's lips stained with blood, his face twisted in pain, his mouth opening and closing without sound as he feebly raised his right hand for help, the gate commander could no longer hesitate.

With a creak, the city gate swung open. The commander rushed out, grasping the Grand Master's outstretched hand with deep emotion. "Rest assured, my lord, I will see that you receive the best treatment immediately."

Even as he spoke, the stretcher was carried into the gate passage.

The Grand Master turned his head slightly and saw that most of the remaining soldiers had made it inside. His eyes suddenly widened in shock, his features contorting in extreme anguish. His throat emitted a harsh, choking sound, and blood foamed at the corners of his lips—he was utterly overwhelmed.

Feeling the iron grip of the Grand Master's hand tightening around his arm like a vice, Hael gently reassured him, "My lord, you're safe now. You are completely safe."

Then, he called out to his attendant, "The Grand Master is in unbearable pain. Bring him some poppy milk."

Tears welled up in the Grand Master's eyes and rolled down his cheeks as he closed his eyes, ceasing his struggle.

Seeing the Grand Master moved to tears, Commander Hael felt a warm glow in his heart and immense relief.

Suddenly—

A chilling sensation pierced his chest, extinguishing that warmth instantly. He looked down in bewilderment, only to see a blade protruding through his chainmail.

"Why?" he whispered hoarsely, struggling to turn his head, but his vision blurred as his strength failed. He collapsed powerlessly to the ground.

At that moment, two hundred Yellow Cloaks sprang into action, slaughtering the Yunkish guards—who had been mere landowners only a fortnight ago—with the ease of butchering chickens.

"Kill!" A wave of ironclad cavalry surged in from outside the city, followed closely by an endless stream of infantry.

The eastern gate of Yunkai had fallen completely.

Hearing the old soldier's report, the Grand Wise Master let out a bitter laugh. He stepped toward the palace entrance, gazing at the long procession of torches moving along the city walls. With a wave of his hand, he spoke softly to those behind him: "Wise Masters, you should all leave now. Leave Yunkai immediately."

Those who remained were his most trusted confidants. They did not leave at once but instead voiced their concern. "Grand Wise Master, when will you depart? For now, the harbor district is still under our fleet's control."

"I am the Grand Wise Master," he replied calmly. "From the beginning, I resolved to share Yunkai's fate—whether in glory or ruin."

"That isn't necessary! We haven't lost yet. Grazdan's main force is only besieged, not annihilated. Even if Yunkai eventually falls, we still have allies.

Qarth is assembling an expeditionary force. Volantis is aggressively recruiting mercenaries from all over the world.

Our envoys have even secured a promise from the Prince of Lys—if Volantis formally declares war on the Dragon Queen, he will send his fleet to support us."

"Grand Wise Master, the global resistance against the Dragon Queen's brutal tyranny has only just begun! We need you! The people of Yunkai need you! The Grand Alliance needs you! The world's peace-loving citizens need you! The great and sacred cause against the Dragon Queen cannot proceed without you!"

One by one, the Wise Masters pleaded, while an old Yunkish soldier, his face streaked with tears, choked out, "Grand Wise Master, if you die, who will rebuild Yunkai?"

"No more!" The Grand Wise Master raised his hand to silence them, his voice cold. "Too many Wise Masters and Grand Masters have already fled the city. The people of Yunkai need a symbol. A spirit to rally behind.

I will sacrifice myself to awaken the fearless will of the Harpy's sons, who once dominated this continent."

"Grand Wise Master, we are already full of fighting spirit! We lost this battle because the enemy had dragons, and the Dragon Queen was too cunning, not because we lacked courage! You don't have to die!" The old soldier couldn't help but defend the valiant Yunkish warriors.

He wasn't wrong. The Yellow Cloaks were not as tactically proficient as the Unsullied, yet they had never surrendered without a fight. Their resolve and bravery surpassed that of mercenaries and slave soldiers alike.

In the original history, Daenerys had assembled an army of tens of thousands of freed slaves, along with over ten thousand Unsullied, yet the Yellow Cloaks and mercenaries of Yunkai alone had fought her to a standstill, forcing her to remain holed up in Meereen, too afraid to march out.

"Astapor, Meereen, and now Yunkai—three Ghiscari city-states in Slaver's Bay have fallen. It is as if our nation has perished. And yet, not a single person has chosen to die with their homeland. Tell me, what will that woman think? What will the people of Qarth and Volantis think?"

The Grand Wise Master waved his hand wearily and sighed. "Go. I will hold this Great Pyramid for as long as possible to buy you more time."

A hunched old Wise Master let out a bitter chuckle and said, "Grand Wise Master, I am sixty-three years old. I will stay with you."

"Sigh... I have many sons. I will stay as well," declared another, a rotund Wise Master, resolutely settling back into his chair.

"I—"

"Report—!"

Before the others could respond, another figure in a yellow cloak dashed into the palace, screaming in terror, "Great Wise Master, the Great Pyramid is surrounded! That woman—she's here in person!"

"I—I'm still young, and I have no son—I can't stay here!" a young Wise Master wailed in despair.

The Great Wise Master poked his head outside the palace, glancing around. But the night was too dark—he couldn't see any dragons, nor could he make out the soldiers in the plaza below.

"Sigh, I should have expected this. The Great Pyramid would be her first target," he turned back, looking at his companions with a complicated expression.

Under normal circumstances, the Great Pyramid would indeed be Daenerys's primary target. However, Yunkai was different. When her army entered the city, their first move was to seize control of the walls, as over two thousand scorpion ballistae capable of killing dragons were stationed there.

Following that, Daenerys's spies within the city led her forces to the armory.

With three dragons and shield-bearers forming a "Steel-Shielded Fire-Breathing Dragon Unit," they burned hundreds of yellow-cloaked defenders holding the armory. Then, Daenerys immediately ordered the militia to haul barrels of wildfire from the arsenal, turning her dragons into bombers once more.

The poor visibility at night meant they might not burn many ships, but Daenerys's real goal was to force the Ghiscari fleet to flee Yunkai immediately.

There were eighty to ninety warships and over four hundred sea vessels docked at the harbor. If left unchecked, how many Ghiscari nobles and how much Ghiscari gold would they take with them?

Aside from having her dragons drop wildfire barrels, once the main army secured the city's defenses, Daenerys sent them to attack the harbor outside the city.

Thus, whether or not the Great Pyramid was surrounded, the Wise Masters inside had no means of escaping Yunkai by sea.

The chaos within the city lasted four to five hours. During this time, the residents hid in their homes, not daring to venture outside. The only sounds were the galloping of warhorses and soldiers shouting commands. Meanwhile, the docks had turned into a raging inferno.

Yunkai's northern and western sides faced the sea, and Daenerys's forces, unrestrained, hurled wildfire barrels and every flammable object they could find over the city walls.

She had given her soldiers clear orders beforehand:

"Yunkai doesn't need a harbor. Burn every ship, every house, every warehouse, and every person along the coast!

Every Ghiscari who escapes today will become a future enemy in yellow cloaks. Every coin they take away now will one day fund a sword raised against us."

The thirty thousand soldiers carried out their queen's will with ruthless efficiency. By dawn, the harbor district outside the city had been reduced to a scorched wasteland, not a single plank of wood left unburned.

"Khaleesi, something unusual is happening inside the Great Pyramid."

Daenerys was jolted from her dragon dream by her handmaiden, Jhiqui.

Her tent was set up in the massive plaza in front of the Great Pyramid. Aside from the night watchmen, many soldiers lay directly on the ground, sleeping soundly.

They were truly ready for battle at a moment's notice.

Even Daenerys herself had taken precautions—these past few nights, she had slept in full armor, only removing her helmet. A heavy sword lay to her left, an iron shield to her right, and a dagger was hidden beneath her pillow.

Ever since the Faceless Men's assassination attempt, she ensured that at least one Queensguard or Bloodrider was by her side at all times. She had also mastered a new skill—the ability to "kill in her dreams," much like the legendary warlord Cao Cao.

Unlike the illusory dreams of old tales, Daenerys's dragon dreams were real—when she slept, her consciousness would enter the Black Dragon's mindscape, allowing her body to rest while remaining aware of her surroundings. But tonight, something was different—her soul had remained in her own body, while Drogon had entered her mind, sharing her senses.

Dragons were highly attuned to danger—if an assassin approached, Drogon would sense it immediately.

"What's unusual?" Daenerys asked from inside her tent, sitting cross-legged with a stone egg in her hands.

At the moment, she wasn't sleeping. She was communicating with the dragon embryo inside the bronze egg, linking minds through her dragon dream.

Before leaving Astapor, she had foreseen the bloodshed ahead and brought the egg with her to absorb the lingering life essence of the slain.

Countless souls had perished in the blazing harbor. Their colorful life energies now poured into the stone egg like a waterfall. The dragon inside was close to hatching—perhaps within a day or two.

"Daenerys, I mean Missandei, wants to see you. She says the Great Wise Master has gone mad."

Jhiqui crawled into the tent, her gaze curiously fixed on the dragon egg.

"Doesn't it need fire?" she asked.

"One more burst of flames, and he'll emerge," Daenerys replied with a smile, handing her the egg.

Jhiqui cradled the egg in her arms, turning it over to examine it. "So, it's about to hatch? Bronze-colored? Looks a bit ugly."

"Golden, with a few bronze spots on its wings—just like the freckles on your cheeks," Daenerys teased as she rose to her feet.

"That's not bad," the Dothraki girl laughed, touching her face.

Daenerys lifted the tent flap and peeked outside. She gestured toward a small figure lurking in the shadows five meters away. "Come here."

Silent as a shadow. Light as a feather. Swift as a snake.

The little water dancer stepped forward, slipping out of the darkness with a few gliding steps, moving so fast it almost seemed like she had teleported.

Even Belwas, the hulking warrior standing guard, narrowed his eyes in astonishment. "Half a year's passed, and this little brat has grown even more skilled," he muttered.

A plain face. A simple servant's dress. Even her eyes held the youthful innocence expected of a ten-year-old girl.

"Missandei, you've grown taller," Daenerys said with a smile, ruffling the girl's dry, messy hair.

Missandei's brows twitched ever so slightly, but she did not dodge. Keeping a serious expression, she stated firmly, "Your Grace, Muuriniyo has gone mad!"

(End of Chapter)

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