Chapter 190: The Five Eagles Battle the Mother of Dragons

Reaching the end of the street, the view suddenly opened up—if seen from a higher vantage point, the rows of wooden houses and stone buildings on either side disappeared, revealing a vast plaza the size of three football fields placed side by side. It was filled with countless cargo-laden carts, palanquins, and pedestrians.

The dwarf elephant pulling the carriage hesitated, its trunk huffing and puffing as it breathed heavily. Cadillac leaned in close to its large, flapping ear and soothed it for a while before the elephant carriage resumed its slow, creaking progress forward.

Under the dim glow of yellow candlelight, fishmongers in the plaza loudly hawked the day's catch.

Besides salted fish, there was no way in this era to transport live fish over long distances. Fishermen had to catch them in the sea or rivers and immediately transport them to the fish market for sale. The residents of Valantis' western city relied primarily on fish as their main source of meat, coming here daily for their meals.

As she made her way through the plaza, Dany saw cod, swordfish, squarehead fish, and sardines piled directly onto straw mats. Next to them, barrels of mussels and clams were neatly stacked. A fishmonger occasionally picked up a watering can, spraying water over the gaping mouths of the swordfish.

An old hunched woman in a gray robe fumbled in her pocket, pulling out a copper coin. A shirtless slave, his chest marked with the emblem of a flying fish, took the coin without even using a scale, scooping handfuls of sardines directly into her basket. He only stopped when the elderly woman repeatedly said, "Enough, enough! Leave some space for my vegetables."

Dany twitched the corners of her mouth—this fishmonger clearly saw the old woman as a garbage collector, eager to have her take away all the dead fish.

Further ahead, she noticed a shopfront with a massive turtle displayed outside—its size rivaled her elephant carriage. Its shell bristled with black bone spurs as long as an arm, resembling a porcupine.

Several slaves stood atop the creature, scraping at its shell with triangular shovels, removing moss, water plants, and shells clinging to its back.

The giant turtle, its limbs bound in iron chains, let out deep, resonant bellows, sounding almost like a horn.

"This… must be an Elder of the River," Dany frowned. "Do the people of Valantis really have the guts to kill and eat an Elder of the River?"

In the faith of the Rhoynar, the Rhoyne River was considered the Mother Goddess, and beneath her were a group of lesser gods—her sons.

The giant river turtles were among them, known as the "Elders of the River," possessing both spirit and divinity.

Merely encountering an Elder of the River was considered a sign of great fortune.

"Perhaps it's not meant to be eaten. The consul election is happening soon—someone might be planning to offer it as a tribute to the powerful," Barristan suggested.

"That makes sense. Giant turtle meat is rather tough and not particularly tasty," Dany nodded.

Aside from the fishmongers, the plaza was also filled with food stalls. Vendors grilled fish fillets on iron plates, pairing them with onions and beets, producing a peculiar sweetness. An old woman pushed a cart with a small stove, where a pot of spicy fish soup bubbled. A bustling food stall had towering steamers stacked two stories high, releasing billows of steam as they cooked red-shelled crabs.

Dany swallowed, very tempted to stop and try the food.

"Look, up ahead is the House of Merchants. They have exquisite and clean dishes there," the old man advised in a low voice.

The elephant carriage approached the center of the plaza, where a towering four-story building stood brightly illuminated. Through its windows, silhouettes of people could be seen moving about inside.

This was their destination for the night—Valantis' largest inn and hotel, the House of Merchants.

At the heart of the plaza, a crowd had gathered around a headless, damaged statue of a former consul. A troupe had set up a stage there.

Dany hadn't paid them any attention until a sharp, high-pitched voice suddenly rang out from the crowd. A man strained his throat, screeching dramatically:

"I am the Princess of Dragonstone, daughter of the Mad King's 'Mad Blood,' the whore of the Horse King, and the Mother of Demon Dragons! Bow down to me at once!"

She stood on tiptoe and saw a towering, nearly two-meter-tall, fat white man. His face was round like a basin, with a bulbous nose and a wide, hippopotamus-like mouth. He wore a loose silver wig, his powdered face deathly pale, with lips painted a ghastly blood-red.

He was clad in crude gray-painted wooden armor, bearing a black-and-red Targaryen three-headed dragon sigil on his chest. In his hands, he wielded a wooden greatsword, while between his legs, he straddled a broomstick wrapped in cloth fashioned into a makeshift dragon. Was that supposed to be Drogon?

Below the stage, two men held a long bamboo pole, from which hung two large fabric dragons—one white, one green—dangling over the fat "Dany's" head.

But the fat man wasn't performing a monologue—opposite him stood five Gezis men, draped in yellow silk cloaks.

Real Gezis men. Their amber-toned brown skin and black-and-red vertical hair were impossible to fake, even for someone with Dany's mild facial blindness.

"I am the War God of Yunkai, the noble prince Grazdan Eras," one of the Gezis men stepped forward, striking a pose of unwavering resolve, iron-willed fortitude, fearless determination, and gallant charisma.

Dany wasn't sure how, but somehow, his stone-faced expression seemed to radiate all those lofty qualities.

"I am the Wise One of Yunkai, the richest man in the world, Yazan zo Qaggaz," another man puffed out his chest, bulging his eyes in an identical pose.

"I am the Great Master of Yunkai, heir to an eight-thousand-year royal lineage, Murinio Daznak."

"I am the Grand Lord of Meereen."

"I am the leader of the New Gezis Iron Legion."

After introducing themselves, the five Gezis heroes shouted in unison:

"We march to defend our land, fearing no death! The heads of Gezis men will always be held high! The evil Mother of Demon Dragons shall never conquer the Sons of the Harpy!"

"Ah ya ya ya!" The fat "Mother of Dragons" shook his oversized head like a madman, letting out a blood-curdling screech.

"How infuriating!" "She" bellowed before charging forward on her "dragon."

What followed was a "spectacular" battle—"The Five Eagles Against the Mother of Dragons." The combatants clashed in a flurry of exaggerated movements, swinging and striking at each other like a bunch of fools.

Yet, the audience below the stage seemed to revel in the spectacle, laughing and clapping. A few robed spectators even cheered loudly while tossing copper coins onto the stage.

"Ah ya ya ya!" After hundreds of exchanges, the "Mother of Dragons" staggered back a few steps, her fat face contorting as she screamed, "I… have been… defeated?!"

"Haha! We are—" the five Gezis warriors huddled together, striking a heroic pose with Grazdan at the center. Then, in unison, they roared:

"The Five Eagle Generals of Geziscar! Demon Dragon, you shall not escape!"

"Kill, kill, kill, kill!"—After completing their poses, the five figures weaved through each other and charged toward the "Mother of Dragons."

The "Mother of Dragons" staggered backward, step by step, until she reached the edge of the stage. With nowhere left to retreat, her plump face twisted into a snarl as she gestured downward. "Slaves, come forward!"

Nine emaciated slaves, their bodies mere skin and bones, dragged their chains as they numbly walked onto the stage.

They were real slaves, with tattoos on their faces, looking as if they were suffering from consumption. Their faces were sallow, their eyes dull and lifeless, and they walked with great difficulty.

The "Mother of Dragons" suddenly lifted the wooden skirt armor she wore.

"Hahaha!"—The audience below erupted into laughter again because the fat man wasn't wearing any pants, fully exposing his two large, pale buttocks.

As he turned around, the crowd saw that he was a eunuch, which made them laugh even louder.

But then, a horrifying scene unfolded. The fat man pushed a slave to the ground, leaped into the air, and in a vulgar pose, landed butt-first on the slave's head, shouting, "Soul-Absorbing Shadow Binding Technique!"

When he stood up, he left behind a corpse with a broken neck. He pushed down another slave, jumped again, and landed on his waist and abdomen.

Crack!—The sound of a spine snapping was chillingly clear. The slave's eyes bulged in agony, letting out a harrowing scream before quickly dying.

The third, the fourth...

The fat man, still bare from the waist down, used the "Seven Spring Cries Technique" to cruelly kill seven slaves. Then, he waved away the remaining two, who were trembling in fear, and laughed wildly as he shouted to the five Ghis warriors: "Absorb the souls of the seven, sacrifice them to the Seven Demon Gods, and grant me the power of the Seven Gods! Ghis people, I will slaughter your women, strengthen your men and boars, and feed your children to dragons! Ahhh! Die!"

And so began a tragic and heroic battle. The five warriors fought to the death, never retreating. They even used their own bodies to block the Mother of Dragons' enchanted sword to protect their comrades.

Soon, the great master of Meereen and the commander of the Iron Legion clutched their chests, shouting, "Justice will never perish!" before their heads tilted to the side, and they collapsed onto the ground.

"Go! You two must go!" The great master, Murinho, grabbed the sword impaling his chest, tears streaming down his face as he shouted to his two comrades, "Leave! Run! I will hold this demon here!"

Grazdan glared furiously at the laughing "Mother of Dragons." "No, I won't leave! I'll fight her to the death!"

"Go! Leave! Preserve the flame and gather forces for another battle!"

"No! The Ghis have thousands of heroes, and they don't need me! Today, I will die here!"

At that moment, countless spirits of fallen warriors overlapped with "Grazdan," making him appear as grand as a saint.

"Go! It's not worth dying in vain!"

"No, I won't go!"

"Leave!"

"No!"

The "Great Master," who had been stabbed through the heart, and the fearless "War God of Yunkai" engaged in a dramatic back-and-forth, like a rap battle, for a full seven or eight minutes.

Gradually, Grazdan was convinced. He had originally intended to sacrifice himself recklessly, but from the great master, he absorbed the noble "Ghiscar Spirit and Faith," becoming more mature and composed.

The intense emotions in his eyes slowly settled as the great master imparted his final words. Those emotions buried themselves deep within his heart, becoming the nourishment that strengthened his unyielding soul.

He transcended.

Yes, the emotional progression, facial expressions, and mental changes were layered and profound. Like Daenerys and the audience below, everyone was deeply moved.

Classic cinematic tropes were seamlessly integrated into your performance—what else can I say?

Respect!

The wise Yazan, only a minor character with few lines, quickly exited the scene.

Amidst the unwilling roars of the Evil Dragon Mother, Grazdan slowly retreated toward the edge of the stage.

Very slowly.

Behind the stage curtain, musicians began playing a sorrowful, melancholic tune.

The War God of Yunkai raised his head to the sky and let out a tragic cry: "Today's shame remains unavenged, the great master's hatred still burns! I swear, one day I shall reclaim our lands and honor our fallen leader!"

"Great performance! Does this kind of show happen often?"

As the actors took their bows, Daenerys clapped and turned to ask someone beside the elephant cart.

A young woman in a green robe, with golden hair and violet eyes, a beautiful oval face, and a large bamboo basket in her arms filled with ribbonfish, onions, carrots, and turnips.

She appeared to be a common free citizen from the area near the plaza.

The woman glanced at Daenerys and replied, "Ever since Yunkai fell, the Ghis perform these shows daily in city squares."

"The Ghis? Traveling performances?"

"Yes. After the Ghis delegation arrived in Volantis, they not only urged the governor to send troops against the Mother of Dragons but also arranged for troupes to stage plays slandering her."

(End of Chapter)

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