Game of Thrones: Rise of the Supreme Dragon Queen

As Blackfyre flew back to Astapor from White Poplar Hill, Jorah Mormont's raven arrived almost simultaneously.

This time, the "Anti-Mother of Dragons Alliance" was not just attacking from land; in fact, even the land forces were coming from multiple directions.

One army, consisting of 5,000 mercenaries, 30,000 slave soldiers, and 3,000 Yellow Silk Cloaks, had gathered at Kayakyon and was marching south along the main road toward Astapor.

Another force had assembled a fleet from Kayakyon, Meereen, New Ghis, and even Qarth—over twenty longships and seventy to eighty warships—bringing the total to more than a hundred vessels entering Astapor's waters.

A third force, the Ghis Iron Legion's assault troops, was advancing from the south.

After annihilating the Second Sons in the morning, Daenerys had sent Blackfyre back to Astapor alone, soaring 5,000 meters high to keep watch on enemy fleets within dozens of kilometers.

Barristan Selmy speculated that the Ghis coalition and the naval forces were communicating via ravens. It was likely that the enemy planned to follow "Daenerys' plan" and launch a simultaneous land and sea assault that very afternoon. Meanwhile, the Ghis Iron Legion to the north of the Worm River would push forward, aiming to destroy the industrial and agricultural system that Daenerys had painstakingly built.

"The northern army has been completely defeated. I thought they'd retreat—did the slavers lose their ravens while running? Did the naval forces not get the message?"

Barristan, clad in armor, had only rested for two hours before returning to work.

"Maybe they have dragon-killing ballistae on their ships and are feeling bold enough to try their luck as dragon slayers?" Daenerys sneered.

While clearing out the Ghis coalition's camp, the militia discovered hundreds of broken heavy ballistae. Most had been trampled underfoot along with other military supplies, but dozens remained intact in the northern camp.

These ballistae were made from Summer Isles goldenheart wood as thick as an adult's wrist, with two-meter-long bows strung with nine strands of refined Qohorik steel wire, each as thick as a pinky finger. Two strong men had to turn a pulley system to draw the bowstring and load the bolts.

The bolts themselves were three meters long, as thick as a thumb, and made of solid steel. Their barbed arrowheads bore dark red flame runes—magical inscriptions cast upon them by Red Priests and pyromancers.

Daenerys personally tested one. She had Little White and Little Green breathe fire on a bolt. The steel tail quickly turned red and began to soften, but the runed arrowhead glowed bright red without melting.

It was unclear whether the runes actually worked or if the Qohorik smiths had used a special alloy.

The 2,000 steel bolts they had recovered alone were worth more than 20,000 gold dragons. Factoring in the costly goldenheart ballistae, the Ghis coalition had spent at least 100,000 gold dragons on dragon-killing weapons.

The newly joined Rose Company also revealed that the Ghis had ordered over 500 ballistae from Qohor. It was safe to assume that the enemy warships were well-equipped with similar bolts.

However, after inspecting them, Barristan concluded that even Qohor couldn't manufacture true dragon-killing ballistae. These weapons were merely repurposed siege ballistae, far inferior in flexibility and lethality—falling short by at least 80% compared to the dragon-killing weapons designed by the Maesters.

"Steel bolts are too heavy to fly high. As long as the dragons maintain an altitude of at least 50 meters above them, they'll be safe. Meanwhile, Balerion's dragonfire can directly incinerate targets from over 80 meters away," he told Daenerys.

Daenerys scoffed inwardly—were her Targaryen ancestors all fools? What kind of logic was it to help the Maesters research a dragon's kill radius? Did they want Balerion to assist in designing weapons that could kill him?

Sensing her thoughts, Barristan sighed and said, "Knowing your dragon's limits is the key to protecting both yourself and your dragon."

"You have a point. I'll be careful," Daenerys nodded before ordering the militia to gather wood to burn the corpses of the fallen mercenaries and Ghis soldiers.

Unlike her forces, who had lost only a little over 200 cavalry, the Ghis coalition had left behind at least 12,000 corpses. Clearing them was a massive task, taking until around 2 PM.

Collecting enough firewood to burn more than 10,000 bodies was another enormous undertaking—it would likely be ready by noon the next day.

"I'm heading off now. Make sure the militia digs latrines for the newly freed slaves, and spread a layer of lime over the Ghis camp," Daenerys instructed Barristan as she climbed onto Blackfyre's back.

Barristan was a seasoned commander, but army hygiene was something few in history had ever cared about.

Half a year ago, when Daenerys saw the Unsullied relieving themselves right outside their tents, she had swiftly implemented a "Military Hygiene Code."

For example:

Soldiers had to wash their faces and hands before meals. If water was unavailable, they had to scrub with sand.

A trench had to be dug around the camp, and all waste had to be deposited there.

Even commanders who didn't want to use the communal latrine had to relieve themselves in a wooden bucket, which a servant would then empty into the trench.

After battles, corpses had to be promptly burned, and a thin layer of lime powder had to be spread over the battlefield and camp.

In the soldiers' tents, vinegar was boiled periodically to disinfect the air.

"Let's go!" Daenerys called to Little White and Little Green. The three dragons flapped their wings powerfully, leaping into the sky.

The gust of wind they generated sent grass and dust flying, forcing Jon Bolton to shield his eyes. In the sunlight, Blackfyre's dark scales and blood-red wing bones gleamed with a metallic sheen.

Watching her soar higher and higher, a knight asked worriedly, "Will Her Majesty be alright going back alone?"

Barristan replied calmly, "There's no need to worry. Astapor still has a member of the Queensguard, over 3,000 Unsullied, 5,000 Dragon's Mother Guards, and 10,000 militia. Let's go select some new Free Guards from the registered slave soldiers."

The three dragons covered the 20-kilometer distance in just 15 minutes. From a great distance, Daenerys, using her dragon-sight, could already see the Ghis fleet stretching four to five nautical miles.

Their brown, tan, and white sails resembled blooming roses on the deep blue sea, forming what looked like a vast garden half-encircling Astapor.

Her timing was perfect—the battle was just beginning.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The ballistae and trebuchets atop Astapor's walls thundered into action.

The Astapor defenders held the higher ground, and their trebuchets were larger, stronger, and had a longer range than those on the ships. So, they struck first, targeting the warships as they struggled to form an attack formation.

Thick, gleaming ballista bolts and black-smoke-trailing firebombs tore through the sky. Most splashed into the sea, raising sprays of water, but some found their mark—piercing enemy decks with gaping holes or igniting streaks of flame on the massive sails.

Daenerys even spotted Jorah, draped in his white robe, shouting orders. The banners of the Free Wings fluttered in the sea breeze as bare-chested, muscular soldiers turned the capstans, reloading the trebuchets.

Meanwhile, Ghiscari sailors moved with the agility of monkeys, scaling ropes to reach the burning sails and dumping sand from their satchels onto the flames.

Then, four or five massive two-meter-long ballista bolts came flying. One struck with brutal precision, impaling a wiry sailor through the waist. He flailed his limbs and screamed as the thick wooden shaft carried him another seven or eight meters before pinning him beneath the ship's railing—like a lamb skewer over an open fire.

The bolt's fletching still trembled, and the sailor groaned, but no one paid him any mind. The first mate hurried the second firefighter up the mast, and the ship's captain, sparing only a glance at the impaled body below, cursed and barked orders to fire the ship's trebuchets in return.

As the warships adjusted their course, the Astapor docks fell within their firing range.

"Dragons! The dragons have returned!" The Queen's Guard atop the city walls erupted in cheers.

Both sides of the battle looked up. In the glaring sunlight, the three dragons, soaring and circling high above, appeared no larger than falcons. Most wouldn't have noticed them, but the people of Astapor were all too familiar with the sight—having witnessed it countless times over the past six months.

What began as a few voices soon swelled into a unified roar from nearly twenty thousand soldiers across the city:

"Long live the Queen! Long live the Mother of Dragons!"

Out at sea, the enemy fleet heard the cries. Taking out their spyglasses, they too spotted the three dragons circling in the sky.

A deep, mournful horn sounded across the water.

"Woooooo—"

Almost immediately, the warships began lowering their sails.

The ships that had not yet formed battle lines extended long oars from their sides. As the rhythmic thump, thump, thump of war drums echoed, hundreds of half-naked rowers, shouting "Yo-he! Yo-he!" in unison, powered the long oars forward.

The warships, heeding their captains' commands, groaned and creaked as they maneuvered.

Most of the rowers wore nothing but leather slave collars.

"They have some nerve, chasing us all the way to the Worm River Delta."

Daenerys sneered as she watched the longships prowl the river's entrance.

The Ghiscari fleet consisted of two main types of vessels.

The first were massive, slower warships equipped with multiple trebuchets—some carrying a dozen or more. Their sides were lined with rows of powerful ballistae, and their reinforced bows bore deadly rams. These were designed for naval supremacy.

The second type was the narrow, low-profile longships. When rowers pulled with full force, these could momentarily reach speeds of 25 knots. The oarsmen were not just slaves—they were elite warriors trained in naval combat.

In boarding actions and pursuit battles, these longships sliced through the waters like surgical blades.

Blackbeard Groleo's small fleet of a dozen ships was no match for them. Days ago, they had retreated into the Worm River, taking shelter at a delta port where dozens of merchant ships lay stranded.

Illyrio's Sedurion, a 100-meter-long cog, lay tilted on the sandy shore.

Of course, a bulky trade cog was useless in war. Groleo's flagship was now Serenity, the ship once commanded by Euron.

Or rather, it used to be called Serenity—it had since been renamed Viserys.

A tribute to Daenerys' ill-fated brother.

Groleo had initially wanted to name it Aegon, but Daenerys felt that such a legendary name deserved a far grander vessel.

As ruler of the Bay of Dragons, she planned to build a mighty fleet in the future, with warships that would truly honor Aegon's name.

For now, her wretched brother could take the honor.

But Viserys had been anything but lucky—since its renaming, it had been relentlessly harassed and besieged by Ghiscari warships, never daring to leave the dragons' sight. Now, it was cornered in a freshwater river, unable to even reach the open sea.

Boom!

Daenerys leaped off Drogon's back, her iron boots leaving shallow imprints on the red brick wall.

"Prepare firebombs for my dragons," she ordered the approaching militia captain.

"Your Grace, you should wait in the pyramid. It's too dangerous here," Jorah Mormont urged.

Boom!

Before he could finish, a firebomb smashed against the base of the wall. Flames licked up the bricks, crackling, as thick, acrid black smoke stung Daenerys' eyes.

"Tar?" She peered over the battlements. Below, the burning fabric clung to the wall, unfurling into a dark stain as smoke billowed upward.

"Refined fire oil," Jorah corrected.

Along the seaward-facing walls, over a dozen blazes raged.

The Unsullied barked commands, directing militias to douse the flames, while sergeants waved gleaming swords, shouting to their men:

"Reload the trebuchets! Kill those slave-trading bastards!"

The battle raged on, more intense than the pre-dawn ambush.

"I'm staying here to command the dragons."

Daenerys smiled and added, "Assign four Unsullied to shield me from bolts. Fire cannot harm me."

(End of Chapter)

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