Game of Thrones: Rise of the Supreme Dragon Queen

Freeing tens of thousands of slaves kept Daenerys busy for three to four hours. As the sun set and the sky darkened to deep blue, hundreds of torches lit up the square. With exhaustion creeping in, she reluctantly summoned a hundred Unsullied to help remove the slaves' collars.

Even so, the news of the Mother of Dragons personally freeing slaves at the Punishment Square spread quickly, and more and more enslaved people flocked to her. Seeing the endless crowd, Daenerys finally announced, "It's too late today. You can't see my face clearly, and I can't fully appreciate your sincere and excited expressions. Let's continue tomorrow morning!"

The slaves thought about it and agreed—this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to meet the Dragon Queen in person. It was not to be wasted. They began removing their handcuffs and shackles on their own, planning to return tomorrow to have their collars officially removed.

Since Daenerys hadn't yet fully grasped the situation of the Ghiscari nobles in the city, she refrained from immediately redistributing their wealth and property. The newly liberated people either set up makeshift tents on the streets and squares for the night or returned to their former masters' homes—but under strict orders not to harm the homeowners.

Throughout the evening, Jorah sent multiple reports. He and Ser Broken Chains had been storming one pyramid after another.

Jorah stationed the Unsullied outside each pyramid, intimidating the enemy while preventing their escape. Meanwhile, Ser Broken Chains called for rebellion from within, urging the slaves to rise up. When necessary, he personally led the charge.

By midnight, they had captured five pyramids. In each case, internal slave uprisings had broken out, and Cleon coordinated with them from inside.

These pyramids, like festering boils on Astapor's body, were being lanced one by one. As they burst open, Daenerys felt an inexplicable sense of relief and satisfaction.

The final act of the night was a grand funeral for the fallen rebel slaves. Two thousand bodies were gathered together, stacked atop wood and doused in oil. The corpses were arranged densely around a central wooden platform in the square.

By the flickering firelight, Daenerys raised a metal megaphone and delivered a eulogy.

"Some of them died in battle, others perished at the hands of the Unsullied—because they crossed the line from victim to oppressor. I have granted you freedom, but freedom has its limits. Personal liberty must not come at the cost of harming others—not even the wives and daughters of former slave masters."

Daenerys had been working tirelessly all day. Though physically exhausted, she was mentally exhilarated. She had accomplished something impossible in modern society—and it was profoundly meaningful. She had fought for human freedom!

For the first time, she no longer yearned for her past life. An orphan with no family ties—what was there to miss? In this new world, she could unleash her full potential and achieve greatness.

"But even though they may have committed crimes, they have also made great sacrifices. They played a crucial role in the liberation of the enslaved. So I will personally send them off, honoring them as free people returning to the realm of the gods. And I promise, they—along with the countless living warriors who fought for this cause—will forever be remembered."

She took a step back and, under the gaze of tens of thousands, raised her hand toward the sky.

"Hiss—screech!"

"Hiss—screech!"

"Hiss—screech!"

With a thunderous roar, three true dragons descended from the heavens, spewing flames that ignited the massive funeral pyre.

"Boom!"

A crimson firestorm erupted, licking at the skin of the onlookers. The scorching heat formed an invisible force that made everyone instinctively step back—everyone except Daenerys.

The searing wind, carrying embers like tiny red stars, swept through her hair. The fire's glow cast a warm, coppery hue on her face, as if she were a blade heated in the forge. Yet she stood unmoved at the forefront of the inferno.

Was she… enjoying this?

Well, if not for the overwhelming stench of roasting human flesh, she might have actually enjoyed it.

"Crack—BOOM!"

The wooden platform—once used to display the corpses of countless slaves—let out a final groan before collapsing into the inferno. It died unwillingly, just like its former owner, who had struggled in Drogon's flames. Just like the ancient, decaying institution it represented—slavery itself.

"From blood and fire, a new world shall be born," Daenerys murmured.

"Your Grace, we have a situation!" A burly man, Belwas, jogged over and whispered in her ear.

The eunuch gladiator had always addressed her as "Little Queen" before, his tone often carrying the patronizing air of an elder speaking to a young girl. And to be fair, she was only fifteen—still a year away from adulthood in this world.

But after the recent whirlwind of events, Belwas had started treating her with far more respect.

"What happened?" Daenerys asked.

Tonight, she and her Unsullied were supposed to take up residence in the Great Pyramid of Grazdan. Before moving in, she had ordered Belwas and the scholar Ethan to lead a squad of Unsullied and inspect every room, bringing out Grazdan's family members.

If assassins had been hiding inside, waiting for a chance to strike in the dead of night, she would've died an utterly senseless death.

"The entire family of the slave master has been slaughtered. Not even the children were spared," Belwas said grimly.

"What?" Daenerys' expression darkened. Her teeth clenched. "Cleon deserves to die!"

Deep inside, though, her heart was cold and emotionless. Her outburst was more for show.

She had already suspected this outcome when Ethan mentioned negotiating on behalf of the slaves.

A man ruthless enough to bargain with the Mother of Dragons—would he really spare the master who had oppressed him for decades?

Still, Daenerys had no intention of holding Cleon accountable. She had deliberately delayed sending people to inspect the Great Pyramid.

It wasn't because she was cruel enough to wish for the complete extermination of the slave masters' families. Reality simply left her no choice. There were still over a dozen pyramids to deal with.

It was obvious that every pyramid would have at least one or two "Cleons" inside.

Even if they lacked Cleon's ambitions, many would still lash out at their former oppressors in a frenzy of vengeance.

If she executed Cleon, would she then have to storm every pyramid like a fortress?

There was a stark difference between executing rebellious slaves in the streets and battling entrenched insurgents inside pyramids.

On the streets, the Unsullied had wiped out nearly 700 violent criminals and revenge-driven fanatics with zero casualties. But the pyramids were different.

Not only would valuable resources inside be destroyed, but how many of her Unsullied would perish in those complex interiors?

Were the lives of the eunuch warriors so worthless?

In Daenerys' mind, the scales of justice had already tipped. Even ten noble infants were not worth the life of a single trained Unsullied.

"It wasn't Cleon who did it," the eunuch said.

"Huh?" Dany's expression must have twisted slightly at that moment.

I've put on such a soul-stirring performance, and you're telling me it was all a misunderstanding?

After a long pause, she regained her composure and asked curiously, "Suicide, then?"

During regime changes, it wasn't uncommon for ruthless men to kill their wives and children.

"No. Over thirty children under the age of fifteen, all had their throats slit by a single person."

"Hiss—" Dany drew in a sharp breath. "Someone even more brutal than Cleon? I didn't even notice."

"She never came out. Neither Cleon nor I dared to provoke her."

"She?"

"The little girl who killed the bear in the arena the other day, that wretched brat," Belwas said, his tone complex.

Grazdan didn't have thirty children; most of them were his relatives, living comfortably in the pyramid and receiving the best education.

After Cleon learned of Dany's pamphlet from scholars, he brutally murdered over a dozen of the slaver's kin but merely locked the children in a spacious study.

Now, Dany climbed the hundred-meter-tall pyramid. On the platform at the palace entrance atop, she saw the wretched brat again.

The little girl sat on the stone steps, her right hand bandaged while she deftly played with a short dagger in her left, looking relaxed and content.

Behind her, through the open doors, dozens of corpses lay strewn across the vast stone floor. Dark blood had seeped out of the room, leaving dark red stains on the hundreds of steps.

It had been over ten hours, and in such heat, the entire palace reeked of rotting flesh.

The wretched brat glanced at the white-bearded man standing solemnly in front of Dany and said crisply, "I won't hurt the Mother of Dragons."

Dany believed she wasn't lying, so she gently pushed past the bearded man and stepped forward. "Why did you kill those children? Many of them were younger than you."

The little girl stared at Dany curiously for a while before replying, "I'm younger than many people, but I still had to fight a bear in the arena. You were there, weren't you?"

Dany gave a bitter smile. "I can't argue with that. If you were an adult, I'd kill you to uphold humanity's final boundary—never harming innocent children. But with you, I can't find a reason to punish you."

"They're not people," the girl said sternly, her face serious. "Pigs birth pigs, dogs birth dogs. Slave masters are demons, and demons only give birth to little demons."

Dany exchanged a glance with the white-bearded man, both seeing surprise and bewilderment in each other's eyes.

"Slave masters are indeed like demons, but they were once human, only becoming monsters over time. Even if their children are little demons, if raised the right way, they can become human again."

Dany herself didn't fully believe these lofty words, but the little girl looked somewhat convinced, her expression softening.

Such a simple child, Dany thought with a sigh.

"What's your name? Do you remember your parents or where you're from? I can send you home."

"My name is Wretched Brat. I don't remember where home is or if I even have parents," the girl replied flatly.

Dany blurted out, "Your name isn't Wretched Brat."

"Then what is it?" the girl asked, looking up at her, a faint trace of longing in her eyes.

"Hmm." Dany stroked her smooth chin thoughtfully. "In the Sunset Sea, there was a legendary heroine named Nymeria. I hope you can become a great hero admired by all."

"I don't want to be called Nymeria," she said stubbornly, blinking her not-so-bright eyes. "From now on, my name is Daenerys."

"Uh..." Dany was stunned.

The white-bearded man and Belwas burst into laughter.

"We can't have the same name," Dany said, feeling both embarrassed and secretly pleased. The girl choosing her name—didn't that mean she found Dany more legendary than Nymeria?

"Daenerys comes from 'Daenys.' Four hundred years ago, the Targaryen maiden Daenys nearly changed the fate of the world."

At least she changed the fate of Westeros.

Hmm, and now, she was starting to change the fate of Slaver's Bay.

"How about we call you 'Daenys' instead?"

(P.S.: In the world of Ice and Fire, a girl is considered an adult upon her first blood, eligible for marriage. It is considered evil and against the traditions of the Faith of the Seven to be with a girl who hasn't had her first blood. However, noble girls with high-ranking inheritance rights, like a duke's daughter or a princess, are considered adults at sixteen, regardless.)

(End of Chapter)

Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon

https://patreon.com/Glimmer09