Chapter 550: Blood Wyrm vs. Sheepstealer

The next day, the sun shone brightly over Meereen.

Rumbling and roaring—

A large army of tens of thousands approached the city gates, smoke and dust billowing like thunder.

Roar!

A dragon soared through the sky, snarling with malice.

At the city gate, a white flag slowly rose. The slave soldiers guarding the city lowered their weapons and opened the gates. A dozen Great Masters in splendid attire emerged, raising the white flag in surrender.

"We've captured the fake dragonlord!" one of the Great Masters announced, carrying a wriggling sack with a silver-haired youth inside.

After a tense silence, the 5,000 Unsullied entered the city, replacing the guards on the four-sided city wall. Several dragons slowly descended to accept the surrender of the Great Masters.

...

Rhaegar dismounted from the dragon's back, his eyes fixed on the tallest pyramid in the city.

"Heh, they know how to be reasonable," Aegon said, removing his helmet and looking around proudly. The entirety of Meereen spread out before them like a vast maze, its streets meticulously clean, the ancient architectural style still intact.

"No sign of anyone?" Daeron asked, scanning the surroundings for slaves or commoners. But the city appeared deserted, resembling a ghost town.

One of the Great Masters, bowing low, explained, "The slaves and commoners are hiding in their homes, afraid of encountering the honorable Dragonlord."

"Where is Hizdahr Loraq?" Rhaegar's eyes were sharp as he searched for the leader of the peace faction.

The Great Masters bowed their heads. "Hizdahr was assassinated last night, and we decided to surrender," one of them said.

"Your Grace, please enter the Great Pyramid to discuss the details," another elder added humbly, bowing with respect. The other Great Masters followed suit, creating a path on either side. Their high status starkly contrasted with their servile behavior now that the slaves were locked up.

"Lead the way," Rhaegar commanded, though he couldn't discern their true feelings. The Great Masters obediently led the way into the Great Pyramid, an imposing structure standing 800 feet high, rivaling the height of the Great Wall of the North.

"Your Grace, the tongue of the false Dragonlord has been cut out," the Sea Snake said cautiously as he approached. "Some of these Great Masters belong to slave-owning families, but none from the House Loraq are present." His words hinted at underlying treachery.

Rhaegar's eyes flickered with suspicion. "Keep an eye on the bastard Dragonlord, and have someone investigate privately. There's something odd about Meereen." The sudden surrender after more than a month of stalemate was too convenient, especially with the Bastard Dragonlord rendered mute.

"Your Grace, you should still be more careful," the Sea Snake urged. "Leaving the dragon outside could provoke unwanted ideas."

"It's fine," Rhaegar replied, shaking his head lightly. He then addressed Rhaenyra and Daemon, who were approaching. "Aegon and I will go in. The rest of you stay outside and control the city."

"Ah?" Aegon's face fell. Why does he always get the dangerous tasks?

Daemon looked around, still puzzled by the situation. Rhaenyra, uneasy, said, "I'll go too." She touched the hilt of The Realm's Delight at her waist, her eyes determined. She had practiced swordplay in her spare time.

"No need. They wouldn't dare to do anything," Rhaegar said firmly. He took the Sea Snake and a reluctant Aegon and set off with the Grey Worm-led escort into the Great Pyramid.

...

The Great Pyramid

With its 33 floors richly decorated, the Great Pyramid boasted fountain pools, statues of Harpies, and gauze curtains. The slave owners had gone to great lengths to create a paradise on earth.

"Your Grace, I heard that Harrenhal is the largest castle in Westeros. How does it compare to the Great Pyramid?" one of the old Great Masters asked, introducing each opulent feature with a hint of pride.

Rhaegar crossed his arms, silently observing the surroundings.

Aegon scoffed, "Harrenhal is big enough for giants and is considered one of the ten wonders of the world." It was a building on par with the Great Wall of the North and the Long Bridge of Volantis. In comparison, the Great Pyramid seemed unimpressive.

The old Great Masters were momentarily speechless, struggling to maintain their composure.

The Sea Snake growled lowly, "Hizdahr was assassinated. Who is in charge in the city now?"

"No one," the old Great Master replied, pointing at the others. "Meereen has always been a fair and just place where the council votes."

"Puff!" Aegon couldn't hold back his laughter. The notion of fairness from a city built on slavery was laughable. The Great Masters' faces darkened, as if they had been slapped.

The atmosphere shifted sharply from one of forced harmony to tension. In silence, both parties ascended to the top of the Topless Tower, where the top floor was used for governing and office work. The palace was empty except for a bronze throne in the shape of a Harpy.

Rhaegar stepped up the stairs, looking down at the Great Masters. "Tell me, where is the real Aethyrys?" he demanded, his voice calm but commanding. He then sat down on the bronze throne, awaiting their response.

...

Slaver's Bay, Khyzai Pass

"Roar!" An ugly mud dragon whizzed past, heading for Meereen on the banks of the Skahazadhan.

"Hyah, Hyah, whoo~..." Over ten thousand Dothraki cavalrymen charged through the mountain pass, brandishing curved swords and screaming. The cavalry moved at tremendous speed, with ropes tied to the rear of the column, dragging thousands of ragged slaves behind them. These slaves, with their dark skin, short stature, and flat faces, were typical Lhazareen Lamb Men.

"Faster, Sheepstealer!" Aemond's one eye glowed with excitement as he lashed his whip at the dragon's uneven back. The Sheepstealer let out a strange cry and accelerated, diving downward.

...

On the other side, 5,000 Unsullied troops were controlling the city's defenses and searching for suspicious individuals within Meereen.

At the arena, the clatter of chains echoed as hundreds of slaves emerged from the dungeon, their shackles removed.

"Tell me, where is the slave owner's army hiding?" Daemon, astride Caraxes, demanded from above. He was certain something was amiss in the city. Some bloodshed would be inevitable if he were to conquer Meereen.

"Roar!" Suddenly, a piercing dragon roar echoed through the sky, and golden Dragonfire erupted. Within the city, several charred corpses were reduced to ashes. Sunfyre's pupils narrowed in anger as he spat Dragonfire at nearby buildings, his fury consuming everything in its path.

...

Meereen, surrounded by four imposing walls.

The Unsullied army had taken control of the city's defenses, removing the Harpy flag, the symbol of the slave masters. Suddenly, the thunderous sound of a thousand horses galloping filled the air.

"Hyah..." The Dothraki cavalry charged in, brandishing their curved swords and shouting in protest.

"Dragonfire, Sheepstealer!" Aemond's lips curled into a smile as he gave the order without hesitation.

Roar! Sheepstealer obeyed, unleashing a torrent of Dragonfire on the bronze statue of the Harpy atop the city wall. The city quickly filled with smoke. Meanwhile, Sunfyre rampaged through Meereen, burning buildings in a fiery rage.

"Aegon is here?" Aemond was surprised, suspicion flashing in his single eye. He had heard that Meereen had hired Dothraki cavalry to defend against the army of the Iron Throne. For over a month, he had pursued the dragons to the Dothraki's Mother of Mountains, burning buildings and driving the Dothraki away before recruiting some of the horsemen for his own use.

But now, with Aegon and Sunfyre in Meereen, it seemed the army likely already took the city.

"Ah, you fool!" Aemond exclaimed, punching the dragon saddle in frustration.

In the city, a long, snake-like scarlet dragon soared into the air, its gaze fixed on the intruders.

At the same time, "Hyah..." The Dothraki cavalry, seeing the wide-open city gates, rushed in.

"No! Stop!" Aemond shouted in horror, trying to halt them.

"Angōtōs (Attack), Caraxes!" A cold voice commanded.

In the next moment, the scarlet dragon took to the sky, spewing a raging flame.

(Word count: 1,342)