Kraznys collapsed to the ground, his rolls of fat jiggling violently like waves.
He looked up, watching the three giant dragon heads casting shadows of death in the sky, and a foul-smelling liquid quickly spread from beneath him.
Fear, finally, crushed his last shred of sanity.
"No... no!"
He let out an inhuman shriek and scrambled backward on all fours, trying to get away from Lynn, who seemed like a demon god.
"Guards! City Guards!"
He screamed with all his might towards outside the plaza.
"Kill him! Kill him for me! Kill these damned Westerosi!"
This was his last trump card, and the last reliance of Astapor's good masters.
Following his desperate command, a chaotic sound of footsteps and clashing metal echoed from the streets surrounding the plaza.
Six hundred Astapor City Guards surged out from the dark corners.
They wore chainmail, carried spears and scimitars, and their faces bore the ferocity of those accustomed to oppressing slaves.
However, when they saw the three-headed giant dragon, a creature only existing in myths, in the sky, that ferocity instantly turned into pure terror.
"Don't be afraid! There are only a few of them!"
A man who looked like a captain shouted, feigning bravery, trying to steady the morale of his troops.
"Kill him! Kraznys will reward each of us with ten slaves!"
With such a heavy reward, greed rekindled in the eyes of the disorganized mob.
They shrieked, raised their weapons, and surged towards Lynn and his group in the center of the plaza.
Viserys was trembling with fear, instinctively stepping back two paces to hide behind Daenerys.
Daenerys's body was tense; she gripped Lynn's sleeve tightly, her beautiful face devoid of any color.
Lynn, however, didn't even bat an eyelid.
He simply looked up at the colossal creatures circling in the sky and let out a soft whistle.
"Roar—!"
Responding to him were three roars powerful enough to tear the sky apart!
Winter had received Lynn's command.
Its massive body suddenly plunged, like an iceberg descending from the sky, carrying infinite destructive power, slamming directly into the charging City Guards!
Boom!
The moment the giant dragon landed, the hard flagstones of the plaza cracked inch by inch.
The gale generated by its wings swept away dozens of Guards in the front row, breaking their bones and tearing their muscles while still in mid-air!
Chaos began.
Winter's largest, central head suddenly lunged forward.
Its gaping maw opened, and in one bite, it seized two panic-stricken Guards.
"Crunch—!"
That was the sickening sound of bones and armor being crushed together.
Blood gushed like a waterfall from between the dragon's teeth, staining its icy blue jaw a shocking dark red.
With a casual flick of its head, the Guards, now reduced to pulp, were flung away like garbage, slamming into distant buildings and leaving smears of blood.
The head on the left lifted high, taking a deep breath.
The surrounding air seemed to be sucked dry at that moment, and the temperature plummeted.
The next second, a stream of white air mixed with countless ice crystals surged from its massive mouth!
It wasn't fire, but an extreme cold dragon breath even more terrifying than flames!
Wherever the dragon breath passed, time seemed to freeze.
The horrified expressions on the faces of a dozen Guards were permanently fixed.
Their bodies were instantly covered in a thick layer of frost, turning them into lifelike human ice sculptures.
With a casual sweep of Winter's massive wings, those ice sculptures shattered like fragile glass, breaking into a shower of ice shards and blood foam.
You killed an Astapor City Guard, experience +3.
You killed an Astapor City Guard, experience +2.
You killed...
In Lynn's mind, a series of system prompts scrolled wildly, the cold numbers now sounding like the most beautiful symphony.
A Guard summoned his last bit of courage and threw his spear with all his might at Winter.
However, the spear, capable of piercing iron armor, only made a crisp "clank" when it hit Winter's transparent blue scales, which were like ice crystals, then bounced off weakly and fell to the ground.
Despair began to spread among all the surviving Guards.
They were facing not an enemy they could defeat, but a magical creature representing the highest combat power!
The slaughter continued.
Winter was like a butcher entering a sheepfold.
It savored this feast of killing in the most primitive and brutal way.
Each swing of its sharp claws easily tore through human flesh and armor.
Each sweep of its massive tail could send a row of Guards flying like garbage.
In just a few minutes, the plaza became a blood and gore mill.
Dismembered limbs, internal organs, and minced flesh covered the entire ground.
The strong smell of blood mixed with the chill of frost, creating a hellish stench.
Daenerys was trembling all over, her stomach churning.
Although she detested this city of sin, such a bloody and cruel scene still made her heart almost stop beating.
She buried her face deep in Lynn's embrace, not daring to look again.
Viserys, on the other hand, was dumbfounded, his handsome face a mixture of extreme fear and a morbid ecstasy.
"Burn them! Yes! Just like that!"
"Burn them all to ashes!"
He growled excitedly.
It was as if the giant dragon, currently on a rampage, was under his own command.
But when he saw Lynn's terrifyingly calm profile, that ecstasy instantly turned into bitter jealousy.
This power should have been his!
This dragon should have obeyed his command!
Lynn ignored the fool beside him.
His gaze fell on the Unsullied who were still kneeling, awaiting orders.
He raised the golden whip in his hand and, once again, issued new commands in the ancient and authoritative High valyrian.
"Dovaogēdys!" (Unsullied!)
"Geltīaōheqrīdonnon!" (Take up your spears!)
Eight thousand Unsullied stood up in perfect unison, re-gripping their weapons.
"Skorosojemēlesytzentyssy,skorosōsytgaomā?" (Do you want to be free men, or do you want to continue fighting?)
"Zentyssy!" (Free men!)
The roar of eight thousand men merged into a earth-shattering wave of sound, even overpowering the dragon's roars!
"Vaoreznunijemēlegīda,yngaomā,ynzentyssy!" (Then prove it with your actions, fight for freedom!)
Lynn's spear pointed at the good masters, who were already terrified out of their wits and trying to flee the plaza.
"Sōvētēs! Kessa!" (Fly! Kill!)
"Kessa!"
Grey Worm was the first to respond to Lynn's command.
He turned, his spear like a black lightning bolt, and unhesitatingly thrust it into the nearest good master.
Pffft—!
The spearhead easily pierced through the luxurious silk and the plump belly, bringing out a gush of hot blood.
The good master didn't even have time to let out a scream before his eyes widened, and he fell into a pool of blood.
Once the floodgates of slaughter were opened, they could no longer be closed.
Eight thousand Unsullied, these slaves who had been suppressed for countless years, at this moment, finally aimed their spears at their true enemies!
They did not charge chaotically like the City Guards.
They maintained their perfect formation, forming phalanxes in squads, efficiently harvesting the lives of those who once considered them livestock.
A good master had barely run a few steps before he was pinned to the ground by three spears thrusting from different directions.
Another good master hid behind a slave, but was dragged out by an Unsullied and impaled through the chest with a spear.
No mercy, no hesitation.
This was the instinct they had been trained for countless years.
Only this time, they were fighting for themselves!
Fighting for freedom!
The slaves who had received gold coins and hope the previous night, after a brief moment of terror, also erupted.
A scrawny cook picked up a meat cleaver and fiercely chopped at the overseer who had once whipped him.
Several ragged stablehands used pitchforks to impale a young good master trying to escape, nailing him to the stable door.
The hatred that had been suppressed for too long erupted like a volcano at this moment!
The entire Astapor became a chaotic slaughterhouse!
Lynn stood in the center of the plaza; he was the eye of the storm, calmly watching everything unfold.
Winter had finished its battle; not a single one of the six hundred City Guards remained alive.
It was tearing at a relatively intact corpse with its massive head, emitting satisfied rumbling sounds.
You have killed 600 Astapor City Guards.
Experience +1368.
Lynn did not allocate points immediately.
His gaze swept past the mountain of corpses and sea of blood before him, towards the tallest and most magnificent good master's pyramid in the distance.
He knew this feast had just begun.
"Jorah."
Lynn's voice rang out.
"Yes, My Lord."
Jorah Mormont quickly walked to Lynn.
He was covered in blood, and in his gray eyes, an unprecedented light burned.
"Take Grey Worm and one thousand Unsullied."
Lynn tossed the golden whip to Jorah.
"Go and free all the slaves in this city for me."
"Tell them, from today onwards, there are no slaves in Astapor."
"Only free men."
Jorah Mormont took the golden whip.
The whip handle was cold and heavy, and the harpy statue inlaid on it seemed to be mocking everything in the world with its hollow eyes.
He glanced at the Unsullied named Grey Worm beside him.
Grey Worm's eyes were no longer stagnant water, but a burning molten lava!
No words were needed; they reached a tacit understanding at this moment.
Jorah raised his golden whip high.
"For freedom!"
He let out a roar with all his might.
"Kessa!"
A phalanx of a thousand Unsullied, like an iron plow, fiercely plunged into the chaotic body of Astapor.
Their footsteps were uniform, each step making the earth tremble.
They were no longer slaves; they were a torrent of vengeance.
Astapor went mad.
A fat good master was running to his mansion in a panic.
His luxurious tokar robe, now soaked with sweat, clung tightly to his flabby flesh, making him look utterly disheveled.
"Close the gates! Close the gates quickly!"
He shrieked at the few household servants by the door.
However, those servants, who had been obsequious to him just yesterday, merely looked at him coldly.
One of them even clutched a gold dragon coin he had received last night.
The mansion's main gate slowly opened from the inside.
What greeted the good master was not a safe haven, but his "loyal" slaves.
These slaves held aloft candlesticks, barbecue forks, and decorative longswords torn from the walls.
The color drained from the good master's face instantly.
"You… what are you going to do?"
His answer was a silver wine pot smashed fiercely into his face.
In every corner of the city, the same bloody drama was unfolding.
In the kitchen, the cook, who would normally be whipped for burning a piece of bread, was now brandishing his sharpest cleaver, chasing after his former overseer.
The overseer's screams were more piercing than those of a piglet thrown into a hot oil pan.
In a silk-draped bedroom, several female slaves, who had just been forced to please their master, used their belts and hairpins to strangle a good master famous in Astapor for his "unique taste."
Their faces were streaked with tears and sweat.
Their expressions were a mix of relief and frenzy.
On the "Walk of Pride," the wooden stakes that had once been used to crucify slaves now welcomed their new "guests."
One by one, corpulent good masters were dragged over by enraged slaves, forced to repay their blood debts in the most primitive ways.
One good master was nailed alive to a stake.
He wailed, cursed, and promised all his wealth in valyrian.
But his only response was from a scrawny boy.
The little boy smashed a stone hard into his mouth.
The boy's brother had died on this very road last week, his crime being a stolen glance at the good master's daughter… On the Plaza of Punishment, blood flowed like a river.
Viserys watched, his face pale, his stomach churning.
"Savage… too savage!"
He covered his mouth, his voice filled with undisguised disgust and fear.
"This isn't war! This is a pack of mad dogs biting people! There's no honor in it!"
His imagined conquest involved dragons breathing fire, enemies turning to ash in their wails.
And he, in the prostration of all people, would gracefully tread upon the bones of his enemies.
Not like this, watching a group of dirty slaves slaughtering their masters in the most despicable way.
"Honor doesn't fill bellies, His Majesty the King."
Lynn's voice was as calm as if discussing the weather.
Winter had already eaten its fill.
It was sprawled in a corner of the square, prodding the corpse of a City Guard with its massive claws, like a cat tired of a ball of yarn.
Its three heads occasionally yawned, exhaling plumes of white cold air that froze the surrounding bloodstains into ice.
Daenerys still hid behind Lynn.
She dared not look at the bloody scenes, yet she could clearly hear the cries and roars of vengeance that had been suppressed for countless years.
She clutched Lynn's sleeve; that piece of fabric was her only reliance at this moment.
"Will they… will they stop?" Her voice trembled.
"When the flood of hatred breaks the dam, it won't stop until it runs dry."
Lynn looked at the highest pyramid in the distance, his tone unwavering.
"We just need to wait."
Just then, a small squad of Unsullied, escorting a very lavishly dressed good master, came before Lynn.
The good master was about fifty years old, extremely well-preserved.
Unlike his companions, who were scared out of their wits, his face still maintained a trace of composure befitting a superior.
"My name is Pree Pree."
He looked at Lynn and spoke in the Common Tongue with a strange accent.
"I am the head of the Spice Merchant's Guild, and I am very rich, my esteemed lord."
"I can give you money, a lot of money."
"I can give you countless gold."
Viserys's eyes instantly lit up.
"Did you hear that, Lynn! Gold! He has a lot of gold!"
He rubbed his hands excitedly.
"Agree to him! Agree to him quickly!"
Lynn looked at this spice merchant named Pree with interest.
"You are very brave."
"No, my lord, I am just a merchant."
Pree plastered a smile on his face.
"Merchants know best how to weigh pros and cons."
"If you kill us, you will only get an empty city and a bunch of useless paupers."
"But if you leave us, you will get a continuous stream of wealth."
"What you say makes a lot of sense." Lynn nodded.
Viserys's face showed even greater joy.
Lynn, however, turned his head and looked at the Unsullied escorting Pree. "Where was he just captured from?"
The Unsullied replied in stiff Common Tongue.
"His mansion, my lord. He was preparing to escape through a secret passage."
"What else is in the mansion?"
"Many spices, gold and silver, and… fifty children chained up, their tongues all cut out."
Lynn's gaze returned to Pree, the hint of amusement on his face gone.
"A merchant who even cuts out the tongues of children,"
Lynn's voice was very soft.
"Do you think your gold can buy back your life?"
Pree's smile froze.
Lynn waved his hand.
The Unsullied understood, and the spear in his hand unhesitatingly pierced through Pree's chest.
"No—!"
Viserys let out a shriek, not for Pree, but for the gold he had fantasized about.
"You're crazy! You lunatic!"
He rushed in front of Lynn, spittle spraying onto Lynn's face.
"That was gold! Gold that could arm our army! And you just…"
Slap—!
A crisp sound of a slap.
The whole world fell silent.
Viserys clutched his rapidly reddening and swollen cheek, looking at Lynn in disbelief.
"You… you dare to hit me?"
His voice trembled.
"I am the King! I am the True Dragon!"
"A King who can't even stand steadily?"
Lynn withdrew his hand, not even bothering to wipe it.
He looked at Viserys's face, contorted with humiliation.
"I warned you to watch your mouth."
"Daenerys."
Lynn no longer looked at him, but turned to his wife.
"Do you think I did the right thing?"
Daenerys looked at her still-stunned brother, then at the spice merchant lying dead with wide-open eyes on the ground.
She took a deep breath, stepped forward, and linked her arm with Lynn's.
"What you do is always right."
At this moment, her last trace of familial affection for Viserys completely vanished.
Viserys felt as if struck by lightning.
He looked at the figures nestled together, at the resolute and adoring expression on Daenerys's face.
A sense of humiliation, stronger than being slapped in public, instantly consumed him.
Lynn spoke to Kraznys, who was slumped on the ground nearby.
"You see, he did another stupid thing."
"He actually incited the Unsullied to openly rebel against the good masters."
"How are we supposed to do business here after this?"
"Don't you agree, Kraznys?"
Kraznys was so terrified that he soiled himself, and seeing the threat in Lynn's eyes, he nodded frantically.
"Yes, it's this boy!"
"Inciting the slaves has nothing to do with you, my lord!"
Someone always needed to take the blame for a rebellion.
Everyone understood, including Daenerys.
However, she did not speak to stop it.
She had already understood Lynn's attitude towards Viserys.
He was merely a tool to be pulled out and used as a scapegoat.
"Go and take my good King back and keep him under strict guard; he's so tired he's talking nonsense."
"Kraznys, you can stay with me for now."
"Remember, you should be very clear about what to say and what not to say to outsiders."
Just then, a thunderous cheer, like a mountain and sea, echoed from afar.
Tens of thousands of slaves gathered beneath Astapor's highest city wall.
They gazed up at the colossal bronze Harpy statue, a symbol of slavery and oppression, their eyes burning with fire.
Dozens of thick ropes were thrown up, looping around the Harpy's neck and wings.
"Pull—!"
A former stonemason, now a free man, stood on high, 指揮 ing with a hoarse voice.
Countless hands gripped the ropes.
"One! Two! Three!"
Accompanied by synchronized shouts, the bronze statue let out a groan of unbearable strain.
It began to tilt, its base cracking.
Finally, with a tremendous crash, the Harpy that had overlooked Astapor for centuries plummeted.
It shattered into pieces on the hard flagstones.
In that instant, the entire city erupted in deafening cheers.
That was the sound of freedom.
Lynn stood in the center of the square, watching the flying dust and debris, and finally smiled.