Six hundred thousand gold dragons!?
Even Jorah Mormont—accustomed to Illyrio's lavish lifestyle—felt his voice go dry saying that number.
This sum could buy all of Lys, with plenty left over.
"Six hundred thousand?"
Viserys's shriek shattered the quiet.
He exploded like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
"That damned slaver—why doesn't he just rob us?!"
"Who does he think we are?"
"The Iron Bank of Braavos?!"
Daenerys's heart sank too.
Though she had little concept of money, she knew this was an impossible astronomical figure.
Lynn, however, smiled.
He methodically wiped blood orange juice from his fingertips with a clean silk handkerchief.
"Ser Jorah, do you think—if I truly had six hundred thousand gold dragons—I'd use them to buy slaves?"
Jorah Mormont froze, then understood Lynn's meaning.
If someone possessed such wealth, they could assemble an army of free mercenaries and conquer Astapor twice over.
"He's not selling anything."
Lynn tossed the handkerchief on the table, standing.
"He's insulting us."
"Or rather—what he wants to see isn't my gold dragons at all."
Lynn walked to the window, gaze falling on Astapor's night sky divided by countless pyramids.
"He wants my dragon."
That single sentence shocked everyone present.
"You can't trade it!" Daenerys blurted out.
"Winter is your..."
She swallowed the rest of her words.
She didn't know how to describe Winter's relationship with Lynn.
Companion? Pet? Something else?
"He's mad?"
Viserys's face showed absurd mockery.
"He thinks dragons are livestock that can be bought with gold?"
"In a merchant's eyes, everything in this world has a price."
Lynn turned, those dark eyes appearing especially deep in candlelight.
"Kraznys is testing me."
"He wants to see what price I'm willing to pay for his Unsullied."
"If I'm foolish enough to haggle with him, he'll assume I'm weak and can be manipulated."
"He'll raise the price step by step until I offer what he truly wants."
Lynn's analysis sent chills down Jorah Mormont's spine.
He finally realized—the confrontation between himself and that Good Master had been unequal from the start.
After all, they had no army. Their bargaining power was pitiful.
The other side never intended to trade—just feared they'd ride the dragon away.
"My lord, what should we do?"
"Should we leave Astapor?"
Jorah's voice carried confusion.
Lynn pulled a heavy pouch of coins from his bag, tossing it to Jorah.
"Leave? Why?"
"We haven't gotten the army yet."
"I need you to go again, but not to see Kraznys."
"I need you to learn everything about Astapor."
"How many Unsullied are there, how many in training."
"Where are their barracks, who commands them, how do they change guard."
"How many city guards, what weapons and equipment, what's their combat capability."
"And those Good Masters—how many private soldiers do they have, what are their weaknesses."
Each of Lynn's sentences was a precise command.
"I want a map of Astapor—one marking every street, every barracks, even every sewer clearly."
"Use this money to bribe greedy overseers, buy off slaves who resent the Good Masters."
"Within one day, I want all answers."
Jorah Mormont gripped the coin pouch, feeling it weigh a thousand pounds.
He finally understood—Lynn never intended to buy.
From the moment he set foot in this city, he'd already prepared to take without paying any price!
"That simple?"
Viserys scoffed from the side, breaking the heavy atmosphere.
"Send a spy out asking questions? Too slow!"
"I say—just have Winter bite off that Kraznys's head!"
"Then tell the remaining fat men—hand over the Unsullied or become charcoal with their city!"
He waved his arms, as if already seeing himself ruling Astapor.
"You're right, that is indeed the simplest method."
Lynn actually nodded in agreement.
Viserys froze, face showing smugness.
"But what happens after?" Lynn countered.
"We get a group of walking corpses controlled by fear, then what?"
"Take them to the next city and burn it again?"
"Before long, all of Slaver's Bay will know—two madmen riding dragons came from Westeros."
"They know nothing but destruction."
"By then, we'll face combined fleets from all Free Cities, plus countless assassins hired from the Shadow Lands and Braavos."
"Do you want to be a conqueror, or an arsonist hunted by the entire world?"
Lynn's words poured cold water on Viserys's fantasy.
He opened his mouth but couldn't refute a single word.
"Ruling is far harder than fighting."
Lynn patted Viserys's shoulder, turning to leave.
Leaving Viserys alone, face iron-blue, fists clenched with audible creaking.
Night deepened.
Daenerys tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
The day's bloodshed and night's schemes shrouded her newly found sense of belonging in unease again.
She quietly rose and left her room.
On the estate's highest terrace, she found that reassuring figure.
Lynn stood alone, overlooking this city sleeping in sin.
Night wind stirred his black robes, making him look like a statue merged with darkness.
"Can't sleep?"
Lynn didn't turn, yet seemed to have eyes in the back of his head.
"I..."
Daenerys walked to his side, mimicking him by resting her elbows on the cool stone railing.
"I'm just thinking—those Unsullied... can they truly be saved?"
"Their souls have already been killed by those Good Masters."
"No." Lynn shook his head.
"Souls can't be killed, Dany. They can only be imprisoned."
"Break the cage, and even the weakest spark can reignite into wildfire."
Daenerys half-understood.
She looked at Lynn's profile.
In moonlight, those distinct features appeared somewhat cold and hard.
"Will you... truly free them?"
She asked softly.
"Why?"
"Because I promised you."
Lynn turned, looking at those purple eyes still clear in the night.
"I said I came to shatter chains."
Daenerys's heart skipped a beat.
Warmth surged from deep within, instantly dispelling all cold and unease.
She said nothing more, just gently wrapped her arms around Lynn's waist.
Next day, Jorah Mormont returned covered in dust and reeking of wine.
He spread a crude sheepskin map before Lynn.
"My lord, everything you wanted is here."
His voice carried exhaustion, but those gray eyes shone remarkably bright.
"Astapor's defenses are even more fragile than I imagined."
"The city has eight thousand fully trained Unsullied, plus five thousand boys in training."
"They're all concentrated in the eastern Unsullied Plaza and surrounding barracks."
Jorah's finger traced across the map.
"The information came from an Unsullied called 'Grey Worm.'"
"As for city defenses..."
Jorah's face showed disdain.
"Only six hundred city guards, poorly equipped—more like thugs the Good Masters keep for protection."
"Fine for bullying civilians, but useless in real battle."
"All the Good Masters' confidence comes from the Unsullied's absolute obedience."
"They never worry about betrayal because in their view, Unsullied don't have that concept."
Lynn studied the map, nodding.
Everything as expected.
A city completely relying on slave armies to maintain rule was like a castle built on sand.
However solid it appeared, the interior had long been hollowed out.
"One more thing, my lord."
Jorah's expression grew serious.
"I heard from a drunk Good Master—"
"Kraznys mo Nakloz never expected you to produce six hundred thousand gold dragons."
"He boasted to all Good Masters in council that he'd trade his eight thousand eunuchs for a real dragon."
"He wants Winter."
Viserys, listening nearby, showed an "I knew it" expression, lips curling in schadenfreude.
Daenerys looked nervously at Lynn.
Lynn's face showed no surprise.
He just raised his head, looking at Jorah, asking a question that caught everyone off guard.
"Ser Jorah, how many Unsullied do you think one dragon is worth?"
Jorah froze.
"My lord, you..."
He couldn't believe his ears—Lynn was actually considering this trade?
"If I said I'd trade Winter for all his Unsullied, would Kraznys agree?"
"He would!" Jorah said without hesitation.
"He'd be overjoyed!"
"He'd immediately package all the Unsullied with their weapons and equipment for you!"
"He'd even roll out red carpets!"
Trading slaves that could be retrained anytime for a peerless dragon?
An irresistible temptation for any merchant!
"Good."
Lynn stood, face showing a meaningful smile.
"Let's go. We'll take a walk together."
"I want to see who loses patience first."
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