Game of Thrones: Rise of the Supreme Dragon Queen

"Emperor Robao mobilized an army of 300,000 from Yi Ti, divided into 13 columns, and marched onto the plains of the Jogos Nhai. They came to kill, burning and slaughtering everything in their path. They killed everyone they encountered—men, women, children—without distinction, not even sparing potential slaves. Every Jahha tribe they met was mowed down like wheat under a scythe.

Our people were massacred, our livestock stolen, our camps consumed by flames. The once lush grasslands were reduced to a scorched, blackened wasteland."

The old "Zebra Man" paused, and the hall fell into a deathly silence. After a moment, he spoke again, his tone heavy with sorrow, "One million lives. We lost at least one million people during that massacre. On average, nine out of every ten Jogos Nhai perished. The entire plain wept; the blood of the Zebra People stained the earth as its tears."

"At least the great Jogos Nhai achieved ultimate victory," Daenerys said gently, trying to comfort him.

Truth be told, though Yi Ti carried the title of the "Golden Empire," it bore no real connection to the great Eastern empires Daenerys had read of in ancient lore. Its customs, culture, ethnicity, religion, and political systems were entirely different—so different, in fact, that it belonged to another world entirely.

She felt no connection to Yi Ti, and even less to the Zebra People. Her attempt to console the old man was simply an act of courtesy befitting a host.

In her heart, however, she thought Emperor Robao had acted rashly, perhaps even foolishly.

Why would he lead his entire nation's forces onto the plains of the Jogos Nhai?

Was it simply to kill? Surely his true intent was to eliminate the threat of nomadic invasions at their root.

He could have divided and conquered, exploiting the fragmented "Jahha-Jahhata" political structure of the Zebra People. By nurturing loyal tribes and turning them into collaborators, the threat posed by the Jogos Nhai, with their weaker production capabilities, could have been neutralized.

Killing was futile. The grasslands remained, growing grass to feed horses, horses to support people, and people to form tribes.

When one nomadic group was exterminated, another rose to fill the void: after the Xiongnu came the Khitan; after the Khitan fell, the Jurchens took their place, and later the Mongols. The cycle was nearly endless.

"That time, we truly faced the threat of extinction," the elder said, his voice growing passionate as he approached the story's turning point. "And so, the Jogos Nhai united as never before. All tribes submitted to the leadership of the great Zanzha Jahhata."

Daenerys, intrigued, asked, "Why did it take such a desperate situation for the tribes to unite under Jahhata?"

You lost over a million people before you realized this? Your reflexes are astonishingly slow, she thought to herself.

"Ah, Khaleesi, I must apologize—I've told the story out of order," the old man said, waving a hand dismissively. "Back then, we had no Jahhata system. Like the Dothraki today, each tribe followed its own Jahha, often fighting among themselves.

In a way, Emperor Robao did us a favor. His relentless slaughter forced us to abandon our disorganized tribal structure. The first Jahhata was born from that crisis."

Daenerys glanced at the attentive Dothraki in the hall and resisted the urge to shout at them, Take notes! This is important!

"Ah, you wouldn't believe it," the elder continued. "The first Jahhata, Zanzha, was a woman—a warrior. Born a fighter, she had an extraordinary gift for leadership and unified over a thousand warring tribes in record time."

Daenerys was both astonished and delighted. To think the first Jahhata had been a woman!

Fools! she thought, addressing her Dothraki. This isn't just important; this is red-ink-worthy. When we're back, I want 800-word essays on this story!

"A remarkable woman," Daenerys said aloud, unable to hide a trace of admiration. "A role model for women everywhere."

The old Jogos Nhai man didn't catch the undercurrent of ambition in her words. Assuming she was genuinely praising his ancestor, his wrinkled, weathered face broke into a broad grin, crinkling like a chrysanthemum in the firelight.

The Emperor Luobao was an unparalleled overlord of the alien lands, but Zancha Jahata surpassed him in bravery and strategy. Faced with multiple encirclements by enemy forces, she devised the "Divide and Gather" strategy.

The "Divide" tactic involved dispersing her people to hide, cutting off the enemy's ability to plunder resources locally. Meanwhile, these scattered groups performed guerrilla warfare—burning pastures, ambushing scouts and foraging teams, and cutting off water supplies to starve and weaken the enemy.

"Khaleesi," said the old zebra warrior, "you must understand, the situation back then was dire. Even if all our tribes united, we couldn't have defeated even one of the thirteen armies of Emperor Luobao head-on.

Perhaps we could have overcome one, or two, or even three armies, but we would have exhausted all our people and never eradicated all thirteen."

Dany nodded thoughtfully and asked, "So, the goal was to force the enemy to divide their forces again?"

"Exactly. The guerrilla forces across the land compelled them to scatter their troops. This paved the way for Zancha Jahata's 'Gather' strategy.

She concentrated all her elite zebra warriors into one powerful force. No matter how many enemy divisions came at her, she focused on defeating just one with overwhelming strength, minimizing her own losses.

After annihilating three enemy divisions in succession, Emperor Luobao finally began adjusting his strategy.

Soon, word reached his command tent that the fourth army was being harassed by guerrilla forces—exactly like the previous three times.

Emperor Luobao concluded that the main force of the Qugosnai people must be near the fourth army.

So, he led his royal guard on a lightning march, rushing day and night toward the fourth army's location.

But, haha, the Emperor had no idea—this was exactly Zancha's true intention."

The old zebra warrior chuckled darkly. "The aliens sought to annihilate the Qugosnai people, but Zancha Jahata yearned to taste the sweetness of revenge. She was determined to bury Luobao's empire forever.

The vast wilderness of the Qugosnai plains held many natural traps, and on the road to the fourth army lay a perfect spot for an ambush.

In that battle, Emperor Luobao's entire army was annihilated, and he himself perished at the hands of the fearless Zancha Jahata.

Afterward, the tide of war completely shifted. Without their emperor, the alien forces were like a dragon without a head.

Whenever the zebra cavalry appeared with the Emperor's crowned head displayed on a spear before the enemy ranks, their morale would collapse. Half of the troops fled before the cavalry even charged, and the remaining soldiers' formations were as feeble as a grandmother's paper fan.

One charge from the zebra cavalry would leave them either wailing in retreat or discarding their weapons to beg for mercy."

Dany sighed inwardly. Those alien invaders were truly...

"Ha!" The old zebra warrior burst into raucous laughter, as if he had become one of Zancha's zebra riders after a few drinks. "Not a single one was spared—those who surrendered or fled were all hunted down by the cavalry.

The wilderness was vast, and they were strangers to the land. Where could they run?

At first, they had plunged deep into the Qugosnai plains, vowing to exterminate every nomad. But now, those distant wastelands, thousands of miles from their homeland, became the graveyard for their 300,000-strong army."

Slaughtering the invading aliens was not the end—it was the beginning of a new era.

Zancha Jahata led a few thousand zebra cavalry on relentless raids across alien territories, capturing cities and fortresses without resistance. The aliens had no soldiers left to fight.

Over the years, she exacted vengeance tenfold, repaying the massacre of a million Qugosnai people with the obliteration of the Luobao dynasty's scarlet empire.

Exhausted by slaughter and plunder, Zancha eventually returned to the plains, bringing countless slaves and treasures with her. From then on, only the Qugosnai people raided others—no tribe dared to invade the great grasslands again."

Ser Jorah sneered. "The entire alien population didn't even reach a million—where did you find ten times that number to kill?"

Dany ignored him and addressed the horsemen directly. "You must remember the glorious deeds of Zancha Jahata of the Qugosnai people."

This wasn't a matter of merely underlining points or circling names in red. It had to be highlighted, written as a grand and elaborate chapter.

The goal was to instill in every horseman the notion that "Daenerys Khaleesi equals Zancha Jahata."

Unfortunately, this idea came to her far too early.

The old Qugosnai man continued, "Our Jahata possessed a treasured artifact passed down through generations—a golden goblet crafted from Emperor Luobao's skull. Zancha Jahata had the flesh stripped from his head, and the skull was adorned with gold to create the cup.

If Khaleesi ever visits the Qugosnai plains as a guest, I believe Jahata would surely use it to serve you wine."

"Well, thank you for the advance notice," Dany replied dryly. "I'll make sure never to visit your lands."

"Oh, that reminds me," Jorah suddenly spoke, his expression one of realization as he turned to the old zebra man with a questioning look. "A few days ago, I encountered an Eastern mother and son at the docks. Their ship was about to depart, but the little boy was leaning over the railing, loudly insisting on going ashore to watch a fire mage's performance.

The mother lowered her voice and threatened him, saying, 'If you don't behave, I'll give you to Zebra-Faced Zancha after nightfall.' The boy immediately went silent, his face pale with fear, and he didn't dare make another sound.

This Zebra-Faced Zancha—was she one of your ancestors, or is it just a coincidence?"

"Hahaha!" The old Qugosnai man laughed heartily, his pride evident. "That mother and son must have been silk-robed foreigners, yes?"

Jorah shook his head. "I've spent most of my life in Westeros and can't distinguish between Eastern races. But their attire was certainly different from ours—distinctive, with an air of nobility."

"They were likely merchants from the Golden Celestial Empire," the old man declared. "Even after thousands of years, Zancha Jahata remains etched in the memories of foreigners. Mothers still whisper her name, twisting her legend into terrifying stories to scare unruly children.

'Zebra-Faced Zancha' is just one of many titles. Others include 'Cruel Zancha,' 'Brain-Eating Zancha,' and 'The Devil's Bride.' Because she never bore children, they even called her 'Barren Zancha.'"

The elder spoke casually, unbothered by these names, and Dany could sense a hidden pride in his eyes.

Just hearing those titles would likely make any man falter before the "Barren Zancha."

Well, it's not like she could have children even if she wanted to, Dany mused.

She quickly dismissed the thought—there was no way she wanted to be called "Barren Dany," "Cruel Dany," or, heavens forbid, "Horse-Faced Dany."

This was a point worth emphasizing—not for her horsemen to remember, but for Dany herself as a reminder to avoid such a reputation.

Hmm, she thought, I'll need to establish the position of court historian in the future.

Titles like "World's Most Beautiful Woman," "The Unattainable Flower of the High Peaks," "The Virtuous Saint," "As Wise as the Sun, As Radiant as the Moon," "Merciful Mother," "Mother of the Free Folk," and "Torchbearer of Civilization" could all become part of her legacy.

Oh, and borrowing titles like "The Perfect Sovereign" or "The Eternal Emperor" wouldn't hurt either.

As these thoughts crossed her mind, a strange smile tugged at Dany's lips. In the end, Zancha was no match for her.

After all, even if Zancha was called Zebra-Faced, her thick skin was nothing compared to Dany's.

(End of Chapter)

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