Soldiers posted on the city walls let out shrill screams of terror as the alarm bells were hammered in frantic succession. Soon, a crowd of Wise Masters in ornate toka robes stumbled onto the ramparts in a panic.
When they saw the warships stretching endlessly across the sea and the silhouettes of dragons beginning to circle in the sky, many went deathly pale on the spot. Their legs gave out beneath them. Some even lost control of their bowels, cutting utterly pitiful figures.
Lo Quen had originally intended to mount Blooddancer himself and cleanse the walls with dragonfire, clearing the way for the landing.
But Daenerys stepped forward and volunteered.
Hatred burned fiercely in her violet eyes, a hatred carved deep into her bones for the slave-owning class.
"Your Grace, please let me do it. Greysmoke needs real combat, and I… I want these enslavers to pay the price."
Lo Quen nodded in assent. Daenerys had always been unyielding toward evil, and tempering her in real battle would benefit Lo Quen as well.
Daenerys vaulted onto Greysmoke's back. The dragon had already grown to a length of thirty feet. Greysmoke let out a shrill, battle-hungry screech and plunged toward the walls of Astapor with its rider astride it.
Though Greysmoke was still smaller than its older siblings, its dragonfire had already grown formidable. Daenerys guided Greysmoke in a low sweep along the ramparts, torrents of blazing flame smashing into the defenders atop the walls.
Before the might of a true dragon, the defenders' resistance was laughably fragile. It collapsed in an instant.
Meanwhile, under the command of Luo Wen and Sandor Clegane, the landing force surged ashore in small boats. They met almost no meaningful resistance, smashed through the unguarded city gates, and poured straight into Astapor.
With dragons carving the path and the army moving with ruthless efficiency, the entire siege was over within a single afternoon.
...
Lo Quen entered the grand hall at the summit of the stepped pyramid. Dozens of bound Wise Masters knelt on the floor like lambs awaiting slaughter, their faces filled with terror and disbelief.
Lo Quen seated himself on the wide chair at the center of the hall, once belonging to the leader of the Wise Masters. His cold gaze swept over these former rulers.
"All Wise Masters, congratulations. From this day on, you are no longer masters, but my slaves. I will take you all to the East, where you will spend the rest of your lives building walls to atone for your sins."
Kraznys mo Nakloz lifted his head and roared in fury, "You despicable Yi Ti savage! We… we presented precious gifts at your wedding! Is this how you repay our goodwill?!"
Lo Quen let out a contemptuous snort.
"Gifts? A handful of Unsullied, and you thought that would appease me? What I want is the submission of all Slaver's Bay, not these laughable tokens."
He spared them no further glance and gestured to Sandor Clegane, who stood nearby wearing a feral grin.
"Hound, escort our honored guests below. Take good care of them. Don't let them die. The East still needs labor."
Sandor Clegane split his lips in a grin, baring his uneven teeth, and let out a strange, rasping chuckle at the trembling Wise Masters. He roughly barked orders at the soldiers, who dragged the crying, cursing Wise Masters away toward the dark dungeons.
The battles that followed unfolded with unstoppable momentum. An army that wielded dragons was nothing short of overwhelming in Slaver's Bay.
Jaelena, riding Silverfall, captured Yunkai, the city infamous for its bedslaves. Janice, astride Duskshadow, burned Meereen's walls to ash. Chai Yiq and Daenerys joined forces to sweep through New Ghis.
All nobles and slave masters who dared resist were captured. Their fate would be the same as the Wise Masters of Astapor's: bound for the distant East, where they would spend the rest of their lives in forced labor, building defensive works until their final breath.
Lo Quen had no intention of letting those bloodsucking parasites off lightly.
After replenishing their fresh water and supplies, the massive fleet continued eastward and soon arrived at the enormous port of Qarth. The city was protected by three layers of towering walls. The outermost wall, built from immense blocks of red sandstone, cast a majestic silhouette visible even from the sea. Towers lined the ramparts, their surfaces carved with depictions of strange and exotic creatures.
Yet Qarth's famed camel cavalry and its powerful fleet were nowhere to be seen outside the harbor. Instead, flags signaling peace fluttered above the port.
A delegation of envoys arrived aboard Lo Quen's flagship. They were dressed in lavish garments, their manners arrogant as they formally delivered their invitation. The Pureborn family of Qarth warmly welcomed Lo Quen's arrival. All members of the Pureborn unanimously invited His Grace to enter the city and visit the Hall of a Thousand Thrones, claiming that the Pureborn family wished to hold friendly discussions with His Grace.
Lo Quen rejected the invitation without hesitation.
He fixed the envoys with a cold stare and said, "Tell your Pureborn family this: if they truly wish to show sincerity, then every member of the Pureborn must personally come aboard my ship, kneel before me, and swear allegiance. Otherwise, my dragons will consider Qarth their next target."
The blunt and merciless response left the Pureborn family shocked and furious.
They were the rulers of one of the wealthiest Free Cities in the world, long accustomed to foreigners bowing and scraping before them. But when they saw several dragons, their bodies growing larger by the day, circling above Qarth's ornate domes and slender spires, all that anger froze into a deep, icy fear.
In the end, several of the most important Pureborn members, led by Igon Emeros, boarded Lo Quen's ship with grim expressions and extreme reluctance.
On the heavily guarded deck, they saw Lo Quen seated calmly upon a hastily arranged throne.
Igon Emeros suppressed his rage and spoke in a cold voice, "Your Grace, is this how you treat potential allies? Greeting friends as enemies, with blades and dragons?"
Lo Quen glanced at him indifferently.
"Allies? Since when did you become my allies?"
Igon Emeros raised his voice. "Our Qarth merchants transported hundreds of thousands of Yi Ti immigrants to the Third Daughter on your behalf. Is that not proof of our friendship and cooperation? Is that not our contribution?"
Lo Quen let out a mocking laugh. "Contribution? Those ships belonged to the Spice Guild and the Tourmaline Brotherhood, merchants driven by profit. As for you Pureborn, what have you done besides sitting in the Hall of a Thousand Thrones collecting taxes? Besides, I paid those merchants in full. Where, exactly, is this 'contribution' you speak of?"
Igon Emeros's face shifted between livid red and deathly pale as he clenched his teeth. "But at the very least, Qarth has never been your enemy! We have never obstructed any of your actions!"
Lo Quen nodded lightly, his tone utterly indifferent.
"Not yet. But if you do not kneel and swear allegiance today, then the very next moment, you will become my enemies. I have heard that during the ancient Yiti Sea Green Dynasty, the God-Emperor of Yi Ti conquered Leng and Great Moraq, forcing Qarth, Gujis, and even Asshai to submit as vassals. Now, I demand the same of you. The Pureborn of Qarth will pay tribute to me. More than that, you will abolish your laughable royal titles and swear your loyalty to me."
Every member of the Pureborn family went pale, their eyes filled with shock and barely contained fury.