Chapter 111: Robb, Take Notes

What happened next confirmed the ominous premonition of the free scholar. One by one, men in rough linen garments, shackled at the wrists and ankles, stepped onto the first level of stone steps beneath the Queen.

They were escorted by the Unsullied, their white linen short-sleeved shirts marked with a large black "罪" (Valyrian for "guilt," not Chinese). On their foreheads, they wore tall white triangular hats, also inscribed with words—"Defenders of Freedom."

The sight made the free scholar, Tom, grimace. What is this supposed to mean? Acknowledging their contributions to the slave liberation movement while simultaneously condemning them for killing the slave masters' children? Was she letting them die with honor?

The prisoners' clothing and appearance remained tidy, but their faces bore expressions of indignation and resentment. Clearly, they would rather "live in disgrace" than "die gloriously."

"Isn't this too much?" The thin acrobat finally reacted, suddenly feeling that the Queen was being overly harsh. The first level of steps was nearly packed with "Defenders of Freedom."

A rough estimate—more than 500 men.

"Without a doubt, they are Defenders of Freedom, distinguished for their valor in the slave uprising. However, they are also guilty of heinous crimes, having slaughtered hundreds of innocent children—many of them infants."

Tens of thousands of newly freed citizens in the square remained silent. They agreed with the Queen's words, yet they also felt that even if the slave masters deserved to be burned along with their families, executing the rebellious slaves was a step too far.

—A fox mourns the death of a rabbit.

The Queen continued speaking, her voice ringing through the speakers:

"Before entering the city, I distributed hundreds of pamphlets from the pyramid, explicitly stating that no child under the age of fourteen was to be harmed. They violated the law I set forth, crossing the fundamental line of humanity.

During the uprising within the city, for their acts of rape, their violence against common folk, and their murder of slave merchants' children, the Unsullied executed hundreds of Defenders of Freedom."

"To enslave others is a crime, to violate women and kill children is also a crime. There is no distinction between these sins. Today, I have enacted The Code, making it clear that evil must be purged and justice must be upheld."

"I declare: They are guilty!" The Queen pointed at the Defenders of Freedom, now kneeling on the stone steps under the watch of the Unsullied, and passed judgment.

A murmur of discontent swept through the square. The atmosphere grew tense. Scholar Tom glanced around and saw that many people looked grim and displeased. He sighed, thinking: This is bad. Her Majesty is too unyielding. After today, some of the new freedmen will surely bear resentment toward her.

"Sigh, Her Majesty is just and impartial, but I can't say I'm happy about this," the acrobat muttered, frowning.

"The hearts of people are like water, their movements like smoke!" The free scholar said bitterly. "People long for a wise ruler, but when one truly appears, how many can accept her absolute justice?"

"It would have been better to execute them quietly and then post the decree," someone nearby chimed in.

"Yeah." Scholar Tom turned in surprise to see the speaker—a stocky man, taller and fairer-skinned than himself. He seemed scholarly, possibly a fellow academic?

"I'm Tom, a free scholar," he introduced himself.

"Oh, hello, Tom. I'm Morono, a soldier in the Mother of Dragons' infantry corps," the stout man replied.

A soldier?

Scholar Tom's mouth twitched. Just as he was about to ask more, the Queen's voice boomed again:

"They are guilty and must be judged. However, they have also made great contributions to the liberation of the pyramid.

Thus, I request one thing from the Green Priestess—may she ask the gods if their sins can be transferred onto me? I am willing to bear their punishment in their stead."

Dany's words stunned not only the Defenders of Freedom who had been secretly cursing her, but also the tens of thousands of freedmen in the square. Even the Green Priestess, standing beside her, was caught completely off guard. Behind her green veil, her face showed shock and disbelief.

Seeing her gaping in silence, Dany continued, "As the High Priestess of the Temple of Grace, you have the authority to communicate with the gods and relay their decisions. May I, in place of these condemned Defenders of Freedom, accept their punishment under the law?"

What am I supposed to say to that?

The Green Priestess's mind was in turmoil. She couldn't comprehend Dany's actions at all. Mechanically, she responded, "Her Majesty's mercy and justice move the heavens. Even the gods would be touched by such righteousness."

"The Green Priestess has spoken!" Dany exclaimed, as if receiving divine approval. She then turned to the crowd and announced through the speakers:

"The gods have permitted me to take their punishment upon myself. Their sentence was death, but as Queen, I cannot die. Thus, for every ten men, I shall take one lash in their place."

"No, Princess-Queen! There are 500 of them!"

Whitebeard's expression had been conflicted—moved by the princess's kindness and fairness, yet deeply worried about her inflexible nature. But when he heard that she intended to take the lashes meant for 500 men, he was so overwhelmed with emotion that tears welled in his eyes.

Princess, you are the most kind, benevolent, just, and righteous ruler in all of history!

Whitebeard wasn't the only one shaken. Even the Green Priestess was left speechless. She had never expected Dany to have such audacity.

Below, the Defenders of Freedom and the freedmen in the square, realizing what the Queen had said, began to cry out with tear-filled eyes:

"Mhysa! Mhysa!"

Above, the noble descendants of Ghiscari blood, too, were utterly shaken. Slowly, they found themselves unable to resist the pull of admiration for Queen Dany's justice and kindness.

Ah, the poor people of Westeros and Essos—unaccustomed to the cunning statecraft of the great empires. One move, and they had already fallen.

But one couldn't really blame them for being so naïve.

Even in the Three Kingdoms era, the most seasoned elites, well-versed in countless political ploys, had been deeply shaken when Cao Cao cut his hair in place of his head. The sheer audacity of it had filled them with awe and fear.

Compared to Lord Cao, Dany truly went all out this time—the price she paid was far greater.

Even in a world with stricter class divisions, or even in ancient China, she would have easily surpassed both Cao Cao and Liu Bei. (After all, Liu Bei dropping his son was just for show.)

The fundamental reason lies in this era, where nobles hold the highest privileges, and people have never been equal.

Leaving the Three Kingdoms aside, even in Westeros—the most civilized land—the lowest-ranked knight could kill a commoner from his own lands, seize a farmer's wife or daughter at will, and it wouldn't even be considered a crime.

If he had a bit of conscience, he might offer a few silver coins as compensation. A more ruthless one? He'd simply finish, pull up his pants, and slaughter the entire family.

If a hunter dared to hunt within a noble's forest, he would be guilty of stealing their property—punishable by having his hand chopped off (literally) or being sent to the Wall to feed the White Walkers.

And in Slaver's Bay, noble privileges were even more extravagant. The Ghiscari, just to stage a theatrical performance simulating an ancient battlefield, would sacrifice 200 slaves for the spectacle.

Clearly, in the eyes of the Great Masters, if 200 slaves had to die to give them a good laugh, then so be it.

And who was Dany? Mother of Dragons, a noble royal heir, the true Queen of Astapor. And yet, she would take a lash for every ten slaves.

Even if she had simply let the Defenders of Freedom balance their crimes with their contributions, then given each of them a few lashes, the Green Priestess, the Great Masters' heirs, and the newly freed citizens in the square would still have praised her fairness.

But instead—

Well, Dany herself wanted to sigh. If this world followed the belief that one's body was a gift from their parents, she would have just cut her hair instead.

Soon, the Unsullied set up a wooden cross at the entrance of the second level of the pyramid. Wearing a soft, pale-yellow linen dress, Dany calmly placed her hands into the shackles on the horizontal beam, pressing her body against the thick pillar.

Then, a man emerged from within the pyramid—a towering brute, shirtless, his muscular body covered in scars. Standing at two meters tall, the bulging muscles on his stomach were even larger than Dany's chest. His arms were thicker than her waist, and he weighed over 350 pounds.

"Demon's Tail, Hattar?!" A gasp of horror swept through the square.

Just as Cleon was the city's best butcher, Hattar was widely regarded as the most ruthless wielder of the whip—like the tail of a true demon.

Rumor had it that he once lashed a slave girl who had bitten Kraznys, splitting her in half with just twelve strokes.

"No... They're actually letting Hattar do the whipping... This is too much..." Someone in the crowd sobbed.

Dany explained, "Only Hattar's whip can equate to the sins of ten Defenders of Freedom."

"Mhysa! Mhysa! Mhysa!"

The entire crowd couldn't help but raise their fists and chant.

"Khaleesi, I am your blood of my blood. Let me take the punishment for you!" Jhogo said with a grim expression.

"My blood of my blood, I will be fine. Besides, at this moment, I am not just a Khaleesi—I am the Queen of Astapor."

"Hattar, if anything happens to the Khaleesi, I will cut you into 9,000 pieces." Jogo threatened in clumsy Valyrian, his voice low and cold.

Aggo said nothing, simply unsheathing his arakh and sharpening it against his belt while staring at the fat executioner.

Hattar didn't need their threats. The night before, Her Majesty had called him to the fighting pits and had him watch as her three dragons tore a strong wild bull into blackened, bloody chunks.

Before leaving, she had casually asked, "That red wasteland bull was quite muscular—stronger than you, wouldn't you say?"

Damn it. Hattar hadn't been able to sleep all night after that. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the three dragons breathing fire at him.

"PAH—!"

The whip cracked, striking Dany's back.

With just one lash, her clothes tore open, revealing her pale skin now marred by a vivid, bloody 30-centimeter-long wound. Blood seeped out instantly, yet Dany bit down hard on the softwood in her mouth, her face pale, letting out only a muffled groan.

"Your Majesty! Wuuu—!"

One lash atoned for ten men. The moment the whip struck, the Unsullied immediately escorted ten of the prisoners with tall hats onto the steps.

In front of everyone, the Unsullied unshackled them and removed their "Guilt" garments.

The ten shirtless, strong men did not rejoice at their newfound freedom. Instead, seeing the lash marks on Dany's back, they couldn't help but fall to their knees, wailing.

In the square below, the freedmen choked on their sobs, waves of voices crying out, "Mhysa!"

"PAH—!" Another lash struck.

Hattar kept his face expressionless, but his mind was focused on something else: the first few lashes must be severe—deep, bloody, flesh torn—but only skin deep, not harming the muscles or bones.

After a few strokes, the Queen's back would be a bloody mess, appearing utterly wrecked.

Then, for the remaining dozens of lashes, all he had to do was make them loud and dramatic—whip cracking, air splitting—yet light as a feather.

With his masterful technique, the infamous Demon's Tail could create the illusion of brutality: a terrifying display with thundering echoes and dazzling whip shadows, yet without truly injuring her.

This skill—this absolute control—was the only thing that could ensure he didn't end up as dragon food.

(End of Chapter)

Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon

https://patreon.com/Glimmer09