War of Meereen III
The attack began before dawn.
The Dothraki riders moved first. Twenty thousand gathered in the dark plains west of Meereen. They rode without banners, without shouts, only the pounding of hooves on the hard ground. The city walls were high, the gate reinforced with iron. The guards on the wall saw the riders too late. By then, the ground already trembled.
The second force of twenty thousand riders split wide across the plain. They rode south and north, circling the city, cutting off every road leading out of Meereen. No one escaped.
From the east, the sea lay silent. Meereen's fleet sat in the harbor, row upon row of ships, sails furled, crews sleeping. No warning had reached them.
The Unsullied moved with precision. Their units crossed the sand in complete silence, shields on their backs, spears slung tight. They reached the eastern edge of the city while the Dothraki thundered in the west.
Then the dragon came.
Drogon rose from the sea wind like a shadow at first, then sunlight struck his scales as he climbed higher. The guards on the walls turned their heads too late. The first stream of fire fell on the harbor. Ships went up like dry grass. The crews screamed as fire leapt from mast to mast. The harbor guards ran, but the Unsullied were already there, moving through the smoke, cutting down anyone who resisted, securing the docks before the fire spread too far inland.
The masters' fleet was gone within minutes.
On the western side, the Dothraki made campfires burn bright to make the force look even larger. The defenders lined the walls, eyes fixed on the riders. The west gate stood locked. The towers bristled with archers.
They never saw Daenerys coming from behind them.
Drogon soared above the city, wings blotting out the rising sun. He dove for the gate from inside the walls. His fire hit the gate and towers at once. The stone cracked. Wood splintered. Men burned where they stood. The defenders on the walls screamed as fire rolled along the parapets.
The gate fell inward in a shower of smoke and fire.
The Dothraki charged through the opening before the smoke cleared. Hooves struck sparks on stone. The first wave cut down guards on the main street. The second wave turned down alleys, spears ready for anyone running from the gate.
But Daenerys did not follow them into the streets.
She landed Drogon on the wall itself. The parapet was narrow, slick with ash and blood. The city guards rallied there, nearly a thousand strong. Some wore the armor of volunteers. Others were slave soldiers, pushed into service.
Daenerys drew her katana.
She moved fast, faster than any of them expected. The first guard came at her with a spear. She broke his thrust aside with the blade, cut through his neck in one stroke, and kicked his body off the wall. Another tried to rush her from behind. She turned, flame running down her free hand, and hurled it into his chest. He fell down from the wall, burning. Arrows came next. She felt them before she saw them. Her telepathy caught the intent of the archers on the tower nearby. She moved before the first bowstring snapped. Two arrows missed where she had stood a moment before. The third she cut out of the air as it came for her head.
She advanced down the wall like a moving firestorm. The narrow parapet worked in her favor. Only two or three men could reach her at once. They died before they even closed the distance. The slave soldiers broke first. Many dropped spears, ran for the stairs, or threw themselves over the inside edge of the wall to escape her.
The volunteers fought harder. Well-fed, trained with sword and shield, they tried to hold the high ground. Their cry was loud enough to completely drown the chaos going on inside the city. One swung a heavy axe at her head while screaming. She ducked low, drove her blade through his thigh, and burned his face before he fell. Another tried to flank her while she was down. She spun, caught his wrist, and shattered it with one hand before running him through.
Drogon cleared the streets below with fire, cutting off any reinforcement from reaching the walls. The gate burned hotter behind her, a wall of smoke and flame keeping the Dothraki charge hidden until they burst through in force.
On the wall, the last of the defenders broke when Daenerys hurled a sheet of fire across the tower doors. Men ran choking through the smoke, straight into her blade or off the wall into the streets below.
Within minutes, the western wall belonged to her alone.
The Dothraki poured into the city in waves. The first twenty thousand took the main streets, killing every master they found, spears flashing in the smoke. The second twenty thousand cut off the side alleys, the eastern gate, the southern road.
The Unsullied advanced through the city from the harbor, shields locked, spears ready. They moved methodically toward the Great Pyramid. Any master who surrendered lived only long enough for identification. Then the orders were carried out. Adults died without getting the chance to scream about their greatness. Children under twelve were taken alive.
Civilians screamed in the streets. Slaves ran for cover, then saw the masters falling one by one. Some began cheering. Others fell to their knees when they saw Daenerys standing on the wall, blood on her blade, smoke rising behind her.
The masters tried to run. Some ripped off silk robes, smeared ash on their faces, and tried to hide among the slaves. It didn't work. Even from a distance, it was clear who had worked with their hands and who had ordered the work done. The Unsullied pulled them from the crowds, dragged them to the streets, cut them down where they stood.
The fight lasted less than two hours.
By midmorning, the Dothraki controlled every major street. The Unsullied sealed the Great Pyramid and every other pyramid the masters had used as homes or strongholds. Smoke still rose from the harbor where ships burned to the waterline.
No one escaped Meereen.
It was a pure show of power. The power that will define the future Eastern Empire of Daenerys' dreams.
Riders waited there all day, spears ready, but nothing came through the other exits. The powerful great masters didn't even get the chance to escape. The southern road was blocked by Unsullied before dawn. The eastern gate remained sealed, guarded by two thousand Dothraki.
Inside the city, resistance collapsed fast. The slave soldiers threw down weapons as soon as the masters began to fall. Some even turned on the masters themselves when they saw the Dothraki closing in.
By noon, the killing stopped. The last holdouts in the Great Pyramid were dragged into the sunlight. Adults were executed in the streets under Daenerys' order. Children under twelve were taken away by the Unsullied, silent and efficient.
The civilians stayed inside their homes. A few watched from windows, faces pale, saying nothing. Others gathered in alleys, waiting to see if the killing would reach them. It didn't.
The Dothraki rode patrols through the streets until evening, hunting down any master still hiding. The Unsullied held the gates and the harbor.
When the sun finally dipped low, Meereen was silent except for the crackle of fire from the harbor ruins.
The city had fallen in a single day.
…
Next chapter: The reaction of the world
Next chapter: War of Mareen III
AN: You can read 65+ advanced chapters and an additional side story of this story on my p@treon AnimefanfictionIND at just 5$.
You can get access to the advanced chapters of all my other fanfictions at just 7$.
2 additional chapters for 100 power stones.