Three days later, the massive fleet finished assembling in the harbor of Qarth.
Warships and transport vessels flying Lo Quen's banner, along with Qarthine merchant ships that had sworn allegiance, formed the Eastern Expeditionary Force.
At Lo Quen's command, the fleet set sail, cutting through the waves as it headed east.
Their route threaded through the narrow waters between Great Moraq Island and the Essosi mainland, the Jade Gates.
Once past it, the view opened up abruptly, revealing a far broader stretch of sea.
This was the Jade Sea.
Its name was no exaggeration.
Under the right light and at certain angles, the water was not the deep blue common to Westeros, but a gentle hue between blue and green, like an enormous slab of polished jade.
The voyage itself was both monotonous and tense.
From time to time, several mischievous dragons would sweep over the fleet.
Blooddancer, the largest of them, often bullied its younger siblings.
All except one: Ashshadow.
This black dragon's growth rate was terrifying, faster than any of the others. It had already reached nearly eighty feet in length.
By comparison, Greysmoke, born several months later, was still under fifty feet.
Even so, next to Blooddancer's one-hundred-and-sixty-foot body, Ashshadow was still smaller by far.
Yet Ashshadow was proud and domineering by nature, showing Blooddancer no deference at all. Whenever Lo Quen was absent, the two dragons frequently came to blows.
Relying on his far superior qualities compared to the other young dragons, Ashshadow could actually grapple with Blooddancer for several exchanges.
This left Blooddancer deeply irritated. Ashshadow was even smaller than Duskshadow and Silverfall, yet had no intention of behaving like a junior at all.
After several scuffles, Blooddancer gradually stopped provoking Ashshadow directly and instead led the other dragons in isolating him.
But Ashshadow's pride was absolute. He cared nothing for Blooddancer's attempts to shut him out.
On the contrary, that very temperament gradually drew other young dragons to him, such as Seaheart and Greysmoke.
Those two often played alongside Ashshadow, just as Duskshadow and Silverfall followed Blooddancer.
Above the Jade Sea.
The shadows cast by the dragons' wings swept across the masts and sails of the fleet.
They hunted freely in the water, tearing into sea fish and bellowing as they fought over their prey.
At first, the sailors and soldiers watched in fear, but as days passed, that fear slowly turned into pride and awe.
They were the True Dragon Legion under the Dragonlord's command, an invincible army destined to conquer the world.
After five days at sea, shouts finally rang out from the bow.
On the distant coastline, the outline of a city gradually came into focus.
Asabhad.
This city was utterly unlike Qarth.
Where Qarth was lavish and exquisite, Asabhad was rugged and practical, steeped in a strong exotic character.
Most of its buildings were constructed from heavy, earth-yellow stone, square in shape and sharply defined.
Towering minarets and domed palaces rose among them, their surfaces inlaid with colorful glazed tiles that glittered in the sunlight.
The city walls bristled with arrow slits and watchtowers. In the harbor lay many strangely shaped, multi-masted ships, their prows often carved into the likenesses of Kraken or gods.
When Lo Quen's sky-darkening fleet and the circling dragons appeared on the horizon, panicked horns immediately sounded from the walls of Asabhad.
Yet, to Lo Quen's surprise, the people of Asabhad did not resist.
As his flagship slowly docked, he saw a group of richly dressed nobles already waiting at the harbor.
At their head stood the Magister of Asabhad, a fat, middle-aged man.
He wore a purple robe embroidered with intricate golden patterns, an expensive turban wrapped around his head.
As he stared at the fleet and the dragons in the distance, cold sweat continuously beaded on his forehead.
This corpulent Magister and his council had long since learned of Qarth's fate through passing merchant ships.
That city, once among the richest in the world, had swiftly surrendered beneath the wrath of dragons and legions, even being forced to change its dress and customs.
They understood all too well that resistance meant the destruction of the city and death for its people.
So they made the most practical choice.
Surrounded by a detachment of Dragon Soul Guards, Lo Quen stepped onto the docks of Asabhad.
The Magister of Asabhad immediately came forward and bowed deeply.
"Great True Dragonlord, God-Emperor of Yiti, Asabhad and all its people welcome your arrival!"
"We have long admired your illustrious reputation and are willing to offer you our complete loyalty and our port, providing every possible support for your great campaign to conquer Yi Ti!"
His voice trembled, yet the words flowed smoothly, as though rehearsed countless times.
Lo Quen gave a slight nod, clearly satisfied with the man's sense of timing.
"Very good, Magister. Your wisdom has preserved this city. My army requires rest and supplies. Your port will serve as our forward base for the eastern campaign."
"It is our honor, Your Grace! Everything will be prepared exactly as you command!"
The Magister sounded as though he had been granted a reprieve, hurrying to give his assurance.
At that moment, Lo Quen's attention was drawn to the other side of the docks.
Several slave ships were taking on cargo. Gaunt figures with unmistakable Yi Ti features shuffled unsteadily aboard.
The Magister noticed Lo Quen's gaze and quickly explained, "Your Grace, those are Yi Ti immigrants bound for the Three Daughters. According to our agreement with Your Grace, Asabhad serves as the departure point for transporting Yi Ti settlers westward."
Lo Quen raised an eyebrow, curiosity creeping into his tone. "I've heard that the Yi Ti lords already know about my eastern campaign. If that's the case, why would they allow such large-scale population transfers? Doesn't this further weaken their already chaotic foundations of rule?"
The Magister put on a sycophantic smile. "Your Grace, you may not know this, but most of those Yi Ti lords and generals live in extreme extravagance, utterly indulged in pleasure. The tax revenues from their territories are nowhere near enough to sustain their enormous expenses and military preparations.
"Selling people is one of the fastest ways for them to acquire wealth. Yi Ti's population is as vast as the sands of the Great Sand Sea. They hardly care about such losses. It's not just the local nobility either. Even the God-Emperor of Yin… heh, it's said he secretly takes part in this highly profitable trade to fill his own depleted treasury. After all, maintaining his crumbling court and limited imperial guard is no small expense."
Lo Quen fell silent after hearing this.
He watched the Yi Ti people boarding the ships, then looked back at the city that had only just submitted. A complicated emotion stirred within him.
He had never imagined that present-day Yi Ti was a dynasty sustained by squeezing and selling its own people.
"How could such a dynasty not fall?"
Lo Quen said quietly.
Seen this way, his eastern campaign might not be an outright calamity for the numb masses living on this land.
Destruction, at times, also means rebirth.
And he would personally rewrite the order of Yi Ti, reuniting this ancient realm that had been torn apart.