The air in Astapor had changed.
Gone was the sticky scent of rotting corpses, spices, and despair.
In its place was a vibrant aroma.
Daenerys walked down the wide streets.
She had changed into a practical linen dress, her silver-gold hair braided and hanging down her back.
The bloodstains on the Plaza of Punishment had long been washed away, replaced by hundreds of towering furnaces.
The blazing flames dyed the sky an orange-red, and the clanging of hammers striking anvils formed an exhilarating symphony.
Thousands of blacksmiths, stripped to the waist, their bronze muscles gleaming in the firelight.
They were forging new armor for their protectors.
At the other end of the street, long queues formed in front of temporary relief stations.
The freed slaves, holding crude clay bowls in their hands, no longer wore expressions of hollow numbness.
In their eyes, there was confusion, unease, but more than that, there was hope.
A female slave received a bowl of steaming wheat porridge from an Unsullied, carefully blew on it, and then handed it to the child beside her, who was only as tall as her leg.
The little boy ate ravenously.
Watching him, the female slave smiled.
"Missa..."
She softly uttered the name that had been whispered by countless people in the dark corners of Astapor.
Missa, in Old Ghiscari, means "mother."
They didn't know the name of the dragon lord, nor the name of the queen.
But they knew it was the man who rode three giant dragons and the woman with moon-colored hair who had given them new life.
They were the "Missa" of all Free Folk.
Daenerys watched this scene, and a warm current flowed through her heart.
This was what she wanted.
Not fear bought with fire and blood, but love and respect earned with kindness and dignity.
"My lord."
Missandei had walked to her side at some point, her delicate face showing a composure beyond her years.
She was no longer the trembling slave translator, but Daenerys's most capable assistant.
She was usually responsible for the resettlement of women and children in the city.
"Our preliminary census has been completed."
Missandei handed over a scroll of parchment.
"The city currently has two hundred seventy-three thousand four hundred Free Folk."
Daenerys took the parchment, and the dense numbers on it made her feel a little dizzy.
She had never imagined that she would one day need to deal with such matters.
She was not good at this sort of thing.
And with a total population of nearly three hundred thousand, one misstep could lead to complete collapse and eternal damnation.
"Where is Lynn?"
"My lord is discussing the city's defenses with Ser Jorah," Missandei replied.
Just then, Jorah Mormont walked briskly from a distance, his face grave.
He approached Daenerys and bowed.
"Several ships have arrived outside the bay."
"Are they merchant ships?" Daenerys asked.
The reconstruction of Astapor required a large amount of supplies.
Jorah shook his head.
"On the sails are the harpy emblems of Meereen and Yunkai."
Daenerys's heart sank instantly... The top hall of the good master pyramid had been cleared out.
The tapestries made of slave skin and the seats carved from slave bones had all been burned.
Lynn sat in the main seat, a simple chair made of sturdy ironwood.
In front of him stood two gorgeously dressed men.
One was corpulent, wearing a purple silk tokar robe, emanating a strong scent of perfume, and his ten fingers were adorned with gemstone rings.
He was Grazdan mo Eraz, a Great good master from Meereen.
The other was as thin as a bamboo pole, wearing a golden robe, his small eyes like a rat's, gleaming with shrewdness.
He was Maggar ko Zakka, a Wise good master from Yunkai.
They were envoys sent by the other two city-states of Slaver's Bay.
Behind them stood a dozen fully armed guards.
Their hands rested on the hilts of their scimitars, their expressions arrogant.
"We heard that some... unpleasant things happened in Astapor."
Grazdan of Meereen spoke first.
His Common Tongue had a heavy accent, as if he had a mouthful of hot oil.
His contemptuous gaze swept over Grey Worm, who stood behind Lynn, and the fully armed Unsullied in the hall.
"A group of lowly slaves, incited by some madman, actually took up butcher knives and killed their benevolent masters."
His gaze finally fell on a figure chained to a chair in the corner of the hall.
Viserys.
He had been cleaned and dressed in somewhat decent clothes.
But his pale and twisted face, and his crippled hands, all revealed his current predicament.
He was the target Lynn had put forward to draw all the fire.
"The Mad King of Targaryen, indeed lives up to his name."
Maggar of Yunkai let out a hissing sneer.
"His father burned King's Landing, and he lit an even bigger fire in Astapor."
"How impressive."
Lynn picked up the wine glass on the table and took a sip.
"Have the two good masters traveled all this way just to mourn the old order of Astapor?"
His voice was calm.
"We are here to seek an explanation."
Grazdan took a step forward, his corpulent belly almost touching the table.
"And a solution."
"Explanation?" Lynn smiled.
"The explanation is that a madman incited a group of slaves."
"Then, I helped you deal with this madman and quelled this rebellion."
"Isn't that clear enough?"
"Quelled?" Maggar's laughter became even shriller.
"You call this quelling?"
He pointed to the Free Folk working outside the window, and to the good master mansions being dismantled.
"You released all the slaves, incorporated the most elite Unsullied, and turned this city into your barracks!"
"You call this quelling?"
"Don't take us for fools, Westeros!"
Grazdan's face also darkened.
"We know what you want!"
"You want to use this ridiculous trick to shake the foundations of the entire Slaver's Bay!"
The atmosphere in the hall instantly became tense.
Jorah Mormont and Grey Worm simultaneously took a step forward, their hands on the hilts of their swords and spear shafts.
They didn't care about any so-called guest rights; as soon as Lynn gave the order, they would slaughter this group of people.
"Foundations?"
A cold voice came from behind Lynn.
Daenerys had walked to Lynn's side at some point.
She looked at the two arrogant good masters, her beautiful violet eyes showing no fear, only disgust.
"Your foundations are built on the blood of infants and the bones of the innocent."
"Such foundations should have been overthrown long ago."
Grazdan and Maggar were both stunned.
They hadn't expected this Targaryen girl, who looked as fragile as a vase, to dare to contradict them in public.
"A harlot who sells her body for status, do you have a right to speak here?"
Grazdan insulted her in Ghiscari without hesitation.
Daenerys's face instantly turned icy cold.
Lynn slammed the wine glass on the table.
Bang!
The crisp sound made everyone's heart skip a beat.
"It seems the lesson of Astapor wasn't enough to teach you how to respect my people."
Lynn slowly stood up, his tall figure casting a suffocating shadow.
"You want a solution, fine, I'll give it to you."
His gaze swept over the two good masters whose faces had slightly changed.
"From today onwards, Astapor will become a Free City."
"We will trade with all city-states willing to engage in equal trade, but we will never deal with any slave traders."
"As for you..."
Lynn sneered.
"Either open your city gates, release all your slaves, and join us."
"Or..."
"Just wait for your cities to be burned to ashes from within by angry slaves, just like Astapor yesterday."
"Are you declaring war on us?!"
Grazdan trembled with rage.
"I am merely stating a fact."
Lynn walked in front of him, gazing at him calmly.
"Slavery has become a thing of the past."
"You think you can challenge the entire Slaver's Bay with a bunch of peasants who just picked up weapons?"
Maggar let out a strange, hooting laugh like an owl.
"Naive!"
"We will cut off all your trade routes!"
"You will have no food, no iron ore, no salt!"
"I want to see your so-called Free City turn into a truly dead city amidst famine and plague!"
"We will blockade the entire bay!"
Grazdan added fiercely.
"Your army, your people, will devour each other in despair!"
"Perhaps our benevolent Meereenese legions can consider entering here to help you... restore order."
This was an overt threat.
Jorah Mormont's face turned incredibly grim.
A blockade of the bay, for Astapor, which had just experienced war and was in ruins, would be fatal.
The city's food reserves would not last long.
The population here was simply too large.
Lynn, however, smiled.
"Blockade?"
He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window in the hall and pushed it open.
Rolling hot wind, mixed with the smoke and dust from the distant blacksmith shops, surged in.
"You can certainly try."
"I'm ready anytime."
Lynn looked up at the azure sky and let out a long whistle.
The next second.
A dragon roar, echoing through the sky, came from the heavens!
Winter's colossal figure, covering the sky, appeared above the pyramid.
It circled, its three huge heads curiously observing the ant-like humans below.
The terrifying dragon's might, enough to freeze the soul, instantly enveloped the entire hall.
Grazdan and Maggar's faces instantly turned pale.
The guards behind them were even more terrified, their legs turning to jelly, and with a series of clangs, scimitars dropped to the floor.
"Your fleet will be excellent targets."
Lynn turned around, a playful smile on his face.
"Winter hasn't had a good appetite lately; perhaps a change of taste would be nice."
"You..."
Grazdan pointed at Lynn, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.
"Get out."
Lynn waved his hand, as if shooing away two flies.
"Go back and tell your masters that if they want to negotiate, they should come with sincerity."
"Next time, if I hear any more disrespectful words..."
Lynn's gaze fell on them.
"I will pay you a personal visit."
Grazdan and Maggar scrambled out of the pyramid.
Their disheveled appearance was a stark contrast to their arrogance when they arrived.
When they fled the hall and saw the countless Free Folk outside staring at them with hateful eyes, they were even more terrified, their souls nearly leaving their bodies.
They feared that someone might lose their temper and rush up to stab them to death.
Silence returned to the hall.
"My lord, they will keep their word."
Jorah Mormont's face was filled with worry.
"The combined fleets of Yunkai and Meereen are enough to blockade the entire bay."
"Our food... won't last long."
"I know."
Lynn sat back in his chair, his expression devoid of any tension.
He looked at Daenerys, who was filled with worry, and smiled.
"Don't worry, Daenerys."
He reached out and gently stroked Daenerys's cheek.
"A city that only consumes is destined to perish."
"But a city that knows how to produce can create everything."
"They want to starve us to death?"
Lynn's gaze turned towards the bay.
"They will soon actively bring food and iron ore to us, begging us to accept them."