It soon arrived at the palace complex of the Great Masters of Qarth. It selected the most exquisite garden palace.
This blast of Dragonfire was even thicker—a searing, dark-red column like a spear of flame that punched through the roof of the main hall. Stone melted under the heat, and fire poured inside.
Inside the palace, a fat Great Master, panic-stricken, was trying to flee toward a hidden passage, servants crowding around him.
They were too slow. Flame poured in from above, filling the space in an instant; tapestries and furnishings ignited.
A tongue of fire wrapped around him. His scream ended quickly. He became a bloated ball of fire, reeking of burning fat, his once-glorious clothes now his funeral shroud.
Before long the entire palace was a colossal ball of fire.
Black Flame had no intention of stopping. He beat his wings and swept the destructive column across the palace complex, one exquisite building after another collapsing and burning under Dragonfire.
Black smoke rose in thick columns, a counterpoint to Ghidorah's spectacle of ice and fire, together forming the most apocalyptic scene in Qarth's final hours.
Viserys circled above the city on Ghidorah, Black Flame at his side.
Using magic he sent his voice across all of Qarth: "People of Qarth, I am Viserys Targaryen, Dragon King of Valyria, heir of the true dragon blood. I come not for gold, nor to enslave you—only for vengeance."
"The Temple of Immortals and your so-called Thirteen Great Masters sent filthy assassins into my home, wielding vile magic and flame to slay my kin. They drenched my castle in the blood of the loyal. This is an unforgivable sin, a provocation of the Dragon King, a declaration of war upon House Targaryen and the entire Valyrian Empire."
"Yet today the shadow's poisoned fangs have tasted the fury of the dragon."
Ghidorah and Black Flame loosed a warning torrent of Dragonfire, underscoring the word "fury."
Then his tone cooled, turning cold and clear.
"I have no wish to reduce the whole city to ash or litter the streets with innocent corpses, but the chief culprits must pay. The Temple of Immortals has been destroyed for its crimes. You will now deliver the remaining Great Masters—let them kneel before my dragons and pay for their folly."
He paused, letting terror seep deep into the city.
"Yet you must still bend the knee to the Empire. From this day Qarth becomes part of the Valyrian Empire. Honest merchants may still trade; law-abiding folk may still live. Choose now."
The instant he finished, Ghidorah and Black Flame roared in unison, a thunderous warning to the undecided.
Below, the people of Qarth looked at one another. They had seen the dragons' unstoppable might, seen the Temple and the palaces of the Great Masters fall.
More importantly, many had long resented the rule of the Thirteen. Those Great Masters monopolized all trade, crushed the commoners, and lived in luxury.
Soon most swore fealty and began hunting down the hidden Great Masters on their own.
In a single night the millennia-old system of the Thirteen Great Masters crumbled.
Seven perished in Black Flame's Dragonfire, three were caught while fleeing, and three more fell to looters in the chaos.
Viserys executed the captured trio publicly in the square, burning them with Dragonfire so the people of Qarth would never forget the dragons' power.
Days later Ser Craster landed with seven hundred elite soldiers and began seizing key installations.
Most harbor garrisons surrendered after seeing the dragons and the fall of the Great Masters; the few who resisted were dealt with, so the handover was smooth.
When the Targaryen three-headed dragon banner rose above the walls, all knew the city had changed hands for good.
Viserys stayed only three days, helping Ser Craster secure the city and setting up a provisional government, then flew straight back to Valyria—he knew Volantis and New Ghis would not sit idle, and total war could erupt at any moment.
Qarth's fall struck like a boulder hurled into still water, sending tsunamis across all of Essos.
News spread with staggering speed.
Volantis and New Ghis, after the Braavos conference, had been forging alliances and assembling a fleet to strike the newborn Valyrian Empire from sea and land. Qarth's sudden fall—decapitated by dragons—shattered their timetable and sowed panic.
"Qarth has fallen," General Valerio Vaharis, the Tiger Party Magistrate of Volantis, said, face ashen. "In one night the Temple of Immortals is gone, the Thirteen wiped out. That Targaryen bastard has given us a nasty surprise."
If distant Qarth could be felled in a strike, was not Volantis next on the menu?
The council chamber fell silent. The other two Magistrates—Nahalo Marlo of the Elephant Party and Malajo Meghya of the Tigers, elected for the war—looked equally grim.
"We must move now, before he digests Qarth and gains more allies. Where is our fleet?" Malajo demanded.
"Already en route—two hundred and twenty warships combined with New Ghis, heading for Slavers Bay."
In New Ghis fear ran even deeper; they had conspired with Qarth, and with that ally gone, would they be next?
Panic bred two reactions: a dovish faction gained voice, while hawks demanded an immediate all-out strike.
In the end the hawks in both cities forced the pace, and Volantis and New Ghis resolved to act early.
Viserys rode Ghidorah, Black Flame alongside, racing back to Valyria. The two dragons flew day and night, reaching the Valyrian Peninsula in two days.
Inside Dragonwing Fortress the mood was tense but orderly. Duke William had strengthened the peninsula's defenses, Earl Alliser had gone to Astapor to aid Duke Arthur against New Ghis, the Young Dragons thrived in their expanded lair, and Daenerys could already direct her three hatchlings through simple drills.
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