The next morning.
Punishment Square.
Rows of bare-chested Unsullied, like lifeless clay figures, stood in neat formation on the square.
They gripped their spears and shields tightly, wearing pointed bronze helmets that only revealed their hollow, numb eyes.
In front of them, a man as corpulent as a ball of flesh leaned on a lavish chaise lounge carried by four slaves.
Kraznys mo Nakloz.
One of Astapor's wealthiest good masters and the largest supplier of Unsullied.
He wore a loose tokar robe, his oily skin glistening in the sun, and several carefully braided black and red pigtails hung from his bald head.
Beside him stood a slender figure.
Missandei.
Lynn and his group, led by Jorah Mormont, slowly entered the square.
Viserys walked at the front, holding his head high, trying to project the air of a king.
But the eyes that involuntarily darted around the Unsullied formation betrayed his inner cowardice.
Daenerys followed closely behind Lynn, her beautiful violet eyes filled with disgust for this land of sin.
Kraznys lazily lifted his eyelids, his small eyes, hidden behind layers of fat, scanned Lynn and his group.
When his gaze fell upon Daenerys, an undisguised lewdness and contempt showed.
He spoke to another good master beside him in vulgar Ghiscari.
"Look at that silver-haired little bitch; her skin is quite fair. I wonder if she can handle being tossed around in bed."
The good master beside him let out a lewd chuckle.
They believed these barbarians from Westeros couldn't understand the noble Ghiscari language.
However, they didn't know that Daenerys had lived in exile in the Free Cities since she was young.
To survive, she had learned many languages.
She heard every insulting word clearly.
Her cheeks instantly flushed crimson, and her hand gripping Lynn's sleeve tightened.
Lynn, however, acted as if nothing had happened; he simply patted Daenerys's hand gently, signaling her to remain calm.
"Esteemed Master Kraznys."
Jorah Mormont stepped forward and spoke in fluent valyrian.
"My master, Lord Lynn from Westeros, has come to discuss the purchase of Unsullied with you."
Kraznys yawned and waved his hand lazily.
Missandei immediately understood and stepped forward, translating in the Common Tongue.
"good master Kraznys welcomes you all; he is delighted to show you his most perfect masterpieces."
"Tell him I have no interest in his eunuchs," Viserys said impatiently from the side.
"I just want to know when he will hand over the army and get out of my sight."
Kraznys looked at Viserys's arrogant expression and asked Missandei in Ghiscari, "What is that silver-haired pretty boy yapping about?"
Missandei's body stiffened for a moment, but she still translated expressionlessly.
"This lord is praising the Unsullied's strength and discipline; he is eager to possess them."
Daenerys could no longer listen.
She stepped forward, about to speak, but Lynn held her back.
Lynn looked at her and gently shook his head.
Then, he stepped forward, his gaze sweeping past the corpulent good masters and directly falling upon the statue-like Unsullied.
"I heard you are Astapor's best slave trader."
Lynn finally spoke, in pure High valyrian, with an accent even more standard than any good master present.
Kraznys's smile froze for a moment.
He hadn't expected this seemingly unremarkable barbarian from the North to speak the language of the Old Empire.
"I heard you want my dragon."
Lynn's next words plunged the entire square into a deathly silence.
The fat on Kraznys's face twitched, and a flash of annoyance at being seen through flickered in his small eyes.
But he quickly regained his composure, his face once again plastered with a merchant's false smile.
"My lord, you jest." Missandei translated in due course. "Dragons are mythical creatures, priceless treasures; how can they be traded?"
"Oh, really?" Lynn smiled.
"But I heard you boasted to everyone in the council that you would trade eight thousand eunuchs for a real dragon."
Kraznys's face completely changed.
He stared intently at Lynn, as if trying to discern from his calm face what else he knew.
"In that case, we needn't waste time."
Lynn's gaze swept across the entire square, over the eight thousand well-trained Unsullied, and the boys being trained in the distance.
"All the Unsullied, including those still in training."
"I'll take them all."
Lynn didn't even glance at Kraznys.
His gaze was fixed solely on the eight thousand Unsullied.
They were bare-chested, their bronze skin glistening with sweat under the scorching sun.
On their chests, a grotesque Harpy mark was branded.
That was the brand of slavery.
"Look at them!"
Kraznys saw Lynn observing his "merchandise" and a smug smile appeared on his face.
He pointed his ivory whip handle at the Unsullied, continuing to boast to Missandei in valyrian.
"You will be satisfied."
"I swear, this is the best decision you've ever made."
"Perfect killing machines!"
"No fear, no pity, no pain!"
"They will kill infants in their cradles for their master, and they will eat their comrades' corpses without hesitation!"
"They don't even have their own names, only numbers!"
"That way, no useless emotions will arise!"
Missandei lowered her head and translated these words as:
"The good master says the Unsullied are the most loyal warriors in the world, and they will obey all your commands."
Lynn's gaze swept over their numb faces.
He saw it.
Beneath that dead numbness, clusters of flames, suppressed to the extreme, were hidden.
That was hatred, unwillingness, longing.
Last night, the gold coins Jorah Mormont scattered, and the phrase "your lives are worth more than the pyramids," were like tiny sparks thrown into this barren land already piled high with dry tinder.
Now, all it needed was a gust of wind.
"Tell him,"
Lynn finally spoke.
"I am very interested in all his Unsullied."
"I agree to this trade."
Kraznys heard Missandei's translation, and the fat on his face crinkled with laughter.
"Excellent! It seems this Westerosi has some foresight after all!"
He tapped his belly with the whip handle.
"Tell him, eight thousand Unsullied, along with their weapons and equipment, are all his!"
"I only want one thing."
Kraznys raised a stubby finger, pointing to the sky.
The meaning was self-evident.
Daenerys looked at Lynn nervously, her palms sweating.
Lynn ignored Viserys, simply looking at Kraznys and slowly nodding.
"Alright."
One word instantly froze the atmosphere.
Missandei frowned.
The color drained from Daenerys's face.
Jorah Mormont was deep in thought.
And Kraznys, as if he had heard the most beautiful music, his small eyes erupted with greedy ecstasy!
He succeeded!
He actually tricked a dragon out of them with a group of slaves!
"Wise decision! Very wise!"
Kraznys was practically dancing with joy.
He impatiently unhooked a whip from his waist, made of pure gold and inlaid with Harpy statues.
"This is the whip of command!"
"Hold it, and these Unsullied are completely yours!"
He offered the whip to Lynn, but deep in his eyes, a cruel murderous intent flickered.
As soon as the other party took the whip and handed over the dragon, he would immediately order these eight thousand Unsullied to tear these foolish Westerosi to shreds!
Lynn did not take the whip.
He stepped forward, walking to the Unsullied named Grey Worm, whom Jorah Mormont had mentioned.
He took the cold spear from Grey Worm's hand.
"Too light."
Lynn weighed the spear and shook his head.
Kraznys was stunned, looking at him in confusion.
"However, it should be enough to kill a pig."
Lynn finished speaking and turned around.
He didn't look at Kraznys, but at the eight thousand Unsullied, and began to speak, word by word, in a language no one expected.
He spoke High valyrian.
And, more pure, more ancient than that slave trader Kraznys, carrying the dignity and pride of the Old Empire's conquerors.
"Dovaogēdys! Naejot memēbātās! Kelītīs!"
(Unsullied! Halt your patrols! Attention!)
The smile on Kraznys's face instantly froze.
Missandei sharply raised her head, her black eyes filled with shock.
Viserys, even more, looked as if he had seen a ghost, his mouth agape, unable to utter a single word.
And the eight thousand Unsullied, like stone sculptures, at the instant they heard this command, almost instinctively, uniformly retracted their spears, brought their feet together, and heavily thumped their spear shafts on the ground.
"Bang—!"
Eight thousand synchronized thumps converged into a dull roar.
As if the very ground of Astapor trembled!
Their movements were no longer numb obedience.
Their faces were filled with suppressed fury.
"You...how could you..."
Kraznys pointed at Lynn, the fat on his face trembling violently with fear.
He finally realized that what was before him was not a fat lamb to be slaughtered at all.
But a vicious dragon in sheep's clothing!
Lynn ignored him.
He simply raised the spear in his hand and, in that ancient and majestic language, issued a deafening proclamation to the eight thousand warriors.
"Āeksīot zōbrī, se dāria zōbrī, prūmȳsa sytivī. Kesys tubī, se gōvilī."
(The Lord of the Golden Dragon, the husband of the Queen, hereby promises. Today, I shall grant you freedom.)
Freedom!
This word, like a thunderclap, exploded in the mind of every Unsullied!
They stared blankly at the man standing before them, holding the spear.
"Jentyssy, ziksoso udlissi. Iksoso zentyssy."
(You are warriors, not slaves.)
"Skoriot gaomā, konir sagon zentyssy."
(For whom will you fight? For those who treat you as livestock?)
Lynn's spear pointed at the now pale Kraznys.
"Yn syt gaomā, konir sagon ziksoso tubī daor."
(Or for those who are willing to bleed for you?)
"Jenti, ziksoso zentys, gaomā daor."
(Fight for freedom, not for slavery!)
Lynn's voice echoed across the entire square.
The breathing of the eight thousand Unsullied grew heavy.
The brands on their chests seemed to burn.
The veins on their spear-gripping hands bulged.
The fire, suppressed for countless years in their hollow eyes, was, at this moment, completely ignited!
Grey Worm was the first to move.
He dropped his shield, stepped forward, and knelt on one knee before Lynn.
"Dārys, iksan zentys."
(My King, I am a free man.)
Where there was one, there were two, then three... Clang! Clang! Clang!
Thousands of Unsullied dropped their shields, symbols of slavery and obedience.
They uniformly knelt on one knee, offering their first allegiance as "free men" to the man who gave them new life and hope!
The scene was enough to make heaven and earth lose their color!
Daenerys watched this scene, her vision already blurred by tears.
Her King did not use dragons, nor did he use slaughter.
He merely used a few words to conquer the city's most powerful army.
No, this was not conquest.
This was liberation!
"No... impossible..."
Kraznys collapsed to the ground, uttering desperate wails.
"You damned eunuchs! You dare betray me!"
"Kill them! I command you! Kill them!"
However, not a single Unsullied obeyed his command.
They merely looked at this former master, who once treated them as playthings, with eyes filled with endless killing intent.
Lynn slowly walked to Kraznys, returning the spear, which belonged to Grey Worm, to him.
"The trade is complete, good master."
Lynn took the golden whip, a symbol of command, from Kraznys's hand.
"Eight thousand Unsullied now belong to me."
"As for the dragon..."
Lynn looked up at the sky.
A sky-shattering dragon roar came from the horizon!
Winter's colossal body, blotting out the sky, broke through the clouds and appeared above Astapor!
Three massive heads cast shadows of death.
That terrifying dragon's might, enough to freeze the soul, instantly enveloped the entire square!
"He's here too."
Lynn looked at Kraznys, a smile on his face.
"Now, let's discuss the other half of the price you owe..."