Chapter 125: Dawn

One had to admit, the Ghiscari had grand delusions.

If this were a conventional, "normal" war, Dany would undoubtedly lose.

But this wasn't merely a war—it was a revolution. Having grown up under the philosophical influence of Marxism, Dany was a hundred percent certain: as a revolutionary pioneer, she might very well become a martyr, but as long as momentum was built, slavery would inevitably be abolished.

Feudalism defeating slavery? Marx himself wouldn't agree with that.

The arrogant slave masters only saw the Unsullied, completely ignoring the hundreds of thousands of freedmen who were gradually embracing freedom, adapting to the "beautiful feudal society." They were Dany's true foundation for the future, while the Unsullied were merely the strength of the present.

With each victory she claimed, the number of freedmen under her banner would grow, and the Free Guard formed from these freedmen would become increasingly formidable.

Mercenaries fought for gold; the Free Guard fought for freedom and family. Who would be more resilient? Who would possess greater determination?

Dany was destined to win.

Utilizing the power of former slaves and newly freedmen to shatter the institution of slavery, creating a snowball effect—that was the key difference between Dany and the original Daenerys.

That Daenerys sympathized with slaves, detested slave masters, and acted purely out of personal emotion. She liberated slaves with the Unsullied but failed to establish a new, stronger system for the freedmen who had temporarily shed their chains.

For the longest time, the hundreds of thousands of newly freed slaves were a burden on Daenerys, an immense pressure she could scarcely bear: providing them with food and clothing, protecting them with the Unsullied, even marrying into a slave-owning family to ensure their safety. Yes, the liberator of slaves ended up marrying a great slave master.

When Grazdan realized that Dany understood their intentions without a trace of panic, his heart sank, and an ominous premonition arose.

"You are Daenerys Targaryen, Stormborn, rightful heir to the throne of Westeros. Why not return to your homeland? Under the Faith of the Seven, there are no slaves, no slave trade. That should be your paradise," he said, steadying his emotions.

"I will return, but not yet," Dany replied calmly.

"If you leave now, we'll allow you to take Astapor's wealth—at least ten million gold dragons. That should be enough to reclaim your kingdom."

Then Grazdan's eyes grew sharp as he threatened, "But if you flee after defeat, you won't just lose your mighty Unsullied army—you won't take a single copper with you."

"Ah, my esteemed Wise Masters and Great Masters," Dany suddenly smiled, her voice soft and sweet, "it seems there's been a misunderstanding."

"What misunderstanding?" Grazdan asked, puzzled.

"You are not like the Good Masters of Astapor. They committed demonic acts, such as killing infants to maintain control over the Unsullied. Naturally, demons must be sent back to hell.

While you treat slaves cruelly and bear many sins, they are not sins punishable by death.

I want to assure you, even if I take Yunkai and Meereen, I won't deal with you the way I did with Astapor's masters," Dany said with a smile, her words as light as air.

Grazdan sneered, "You're arrogant, but tomorrow, our army of one hundred thousand will slaughter your Unsullied."

Dany waved her hand dismissively, still smiling. "Let's leave war for tomorrow. For now, let's discuss our bottom lines. If unexpected things happen in battle, none of us should hold grudges.

However, if you find the situation unfavorable, don't panic. You can surrender to me. I promise no harm will come to you.

And if you surrender before the battle begins, even better. I'll only take your slaves and the wealth they've earned for you through years of service.

How about that? Very generous terms, right?

Without slaves, you can hire contract workers! Westeros has no slaves, but have you ever heard of lords plowing fields or cooking for themselves?"

"Your so-called generous terms are the greatest insult to the sons of the Harpy!" Grazdan roared with fury. "Listen well, as long as we draw breath, we will never surrender to a lowborn whore queen!"

"The sons of the Harpy bow to no one!" echoed the other nine slave masters.

"Excellent, worthy of the great bloodline of the ancient Ghiscari Empire!" Dany clapped, applauding their defiance.

"Hmph, as long as you understand," Grazdan replied proudly.

"Indeed, I understand your unyielding pride. Just remember the tradition of Westeros—only those who raise a white flag signify surrender and peace," Dany said with a grin.

Grazdan and the nine slave masters, along with a hundred guards mounted on white camels, rode off in a huff.

By the time they left, the moon had set, and the stars had faded, leaving the sky in profound darkness.

The once-bustling camp below the hillside was now silent, with only faint campfires flickering in the gentle breeze.

"Ah," Dany stretched and groaned, "Dawn is near. Grey Worm, wake all the soldiers and laborers. Have breakfast first, then put on their armor. Remember, move quietly. No loud clanking of metal."

"Yes, Your Majesty. Don't worry. The armor is covered with a layer of linen to prevent reflections and reduce noise. As per your instructions, the horses' hooves are wrapped in soft hides, and we've stuffed hardwood bits into their mouths," Grey Worm replied, his expression as stoic as ever, though his eyes flashed with a hint of amusement.

"Your method works well, Your Majesty. The horses don't make a sound with the bits in their mouths," he added.

Of course, the wisdom of the ancestors never fails.

After Grey Worm left, Barristan looked at Dany with a complicated expression. "I've been a soldier all my life, but I've never fought a battle like this."

"And how did you fight your battles?" Dany asked, squatting by the camp gate and taking a steaming beef bun from Irri. It was large, with a thin wrapper and a hefty chunk of pure beef inside, the juices dripping down her chin.

Now that she was queen, why wouldn't she enjoy the privilege of having exquisite food from her homeland? All she needed was to give the order, and her cooks would prepare authentic meat buns.

Not just buns and bread—dumplings, spring rolls, and fried dough sticks had become favorite breakfast foods among the people of Astapor.

The beef buns had been steamed the previous evening. While Dany met with the leaders of the mercenary companies, her soldiers had been fast asleep.

From 7 PM last night to around 3 AM now, they had likely rested enough. Breakfast consisted of warm, steaming meat buns.

"We will gather our forces, deploy them in an open area, and engage in a proper battle—soldiers against soldiers, generals against generals, charging at each other with honor," said the White Knight.

"Heh, in a fight to the death, if you have an iron sword and your opponent only has a wooden stick, would you throw away your sword and pick up a stick just to fight fair?" Dany asked with a smile as she took a sip of milk.

"We are not rigid," the old man replied, grabbing a large bun from the tray carried by a handmaiden and speaking indistinctly as he chewed.

"The Unsullied aside, our soldiers train three times a day—morning, noon, and afternoon—resting only one day every seven. Even the militia responsible for transporting supplies undergoes military training twice a week.

"In terms of discipline and formation proficiency, we far surpass our opponents. Since we know our strengths counter their weaknesses, why wouldn't I take full advantage of that?" Dany said with a smile.

"That's true." The old general sighed and said, "Your Majesty is not only a natural queen but also a born strategist."

"I only handle tactical assaults. You are the true commander of our army."

Dany was self-aware. In battle planning, she merely provided suggestions, leaving the details to the experienced old general.

Before long, Grey Worm led a group of forty to fifty armored soldiers, their armor clinking softly as they approached.

"Khaleesi, the men are ready," Aggo reported.

The assembled leaders included Unsullied, Dothraki, members of the Queen's Guard, and militia commanders responsible for logistics. They stood in two neat rows according to rank.

"Let's talk inside the tent," Dany nodded to the Bloodriders and led the way into the wooden hall.

The 100-square-meter space felt a bit cramped with forty to fifty officers inside, especially with a large round table occupying the center.

"This is the new defense layout of the enemy camp," Dany said, pointing to the large parchment map on the table.

Barristan Selmy held a stack of smaller maps and distributed them to each officer as they entered.

"The areas marked in red are your squads' attack targets," he explained. "If anything is unclear, you can cross-reference with the main map or ask me directly."

"Your Majesty, has my assignment changed?" A burly, bald man with a scarred face and gray plate armor looked at Dany in confusion.

This man, known as "Scarback" Simon, bore whip scars covering his face, but his back was even worse—covered in so many lash marks that anyone with trypophobia would find it unbearable to look at.

All of these scars came from punishments by slavers. He was a fiercely defiant Rhoynar warrior.

When Dany was meeting petitioners in the square, he had stepped forward and recommended himself, claiming to have some military talent and requesting to serve as her guard.

He wasn't boasting. Excelling in training with the Free Legion, he had now risen to command the Mother of Dragons' cavalry, second only to Barristan.

"Heh, last night, the Rose Company moved their camp to the southwestern corner," Dany said with a smile. "They also drank more than half of the 200 barrels of 'Great Wall Red' that I gifted them. The militia can simply keep them surrounded now. Your elite cavalry will focus on attacking the Black Raven Company's camp."

Dany's army was positioned in the south, while the slave army was a kilometer to the north. To the west was a rugged, rocky coastline that was difficult for any army to traverse.

The slave masters had envisioned a battle where the Rose Company, positioned in the southwest, would either engage the Mother of Dragons' forces head-on or find themselves with no escape route.

Similarly, if the Rose Company truly intended to betray their centuries-old reputation and secretly side with the "depraved Dragon Queen," their southwestern position would pose little threat to the Ghiscari camp.

"All three dragons are here. What about Astapor?" A plump, scholarly-looking general asked.

This man, Morono Ilos Dubo, was a highly intelligent individual.

He had once been a slave but was freed by Dany. He first joined the militia, then distinguished himself and was selected by Jorah Mormont for the Free Legion. Now, he commanded the infantry of the Queen's Guard, one of the few strategic minds among Dany's officers.

The longbowmen, part of the infantry, were under his command.

"We'll time it precisely—Astapor is only 20 kilometers away. The dragons can be there in minutes," Dany assured him.

Through the open rooftop, the eastern sky was already turning pale.

Barristan frowned. "Are we certain about this?"

"No doubts."

"The details are clear, and we've already scouted the terrain," the officers murmured.

"Move out immediately!" the old general ordered.

"Yes, sir!" the officers responded in unison.

*(PS: The Rhoynar were not exclusive to the Seven Kingdoms. Though the Rhoynar Kingdom was destroyed by Valyria, their people still exist.

The majority of white-skinned people in Essos are of Rhoynar, Andal, or Valyrian descent.

Andals typically have blond hair and blue eyes. Rhoynar tend to have darker hair and eye colors. Valyrian descendants often have silver or silver-gold hair with blue or purple eyes.)*

(End of Chapter)

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