Game of Thrones: Rise of the Supreme Dragon Queen

The first time Dany came to Astapor, the streets by the dock were desolate.

Aside from their group, they didn't even encounter a single foreign merchant. Even the local residents rarely strolled the red-brick streets.

Two years later, the crumbling old city walls had been repaired, and the weathered red-brick pavement on the streets was replaced with new bricks.

Urban structures had been improved—dilapidated and dangerous buildings were torn down and rebuilt.

Rows of red-brick, black-tile houses had sprung up, and three- or four-story buildings lined the streets.

Residents even planted fruit trees—apple, persimmon, fig, loquat—along the streets in front of their homes.

Clean, orderly, and with a natural sense of harmony.

If not for the dozens of pyramids interspersed throughout, one might mistake this place for a small county town from the 1980s or '90s.

Tyrion, Clinton, and the others walked through the streets, marveling all the way.

"King's Landing is also by a river and near the sea, yet compared to Astapor, it's nothing but a cesspit," the Imp muttered, his tone complex.

"The air in the city is fresh, hygiene is excellent, and the sewage system is nearly on par with the Black Walls of Volantis," commented the gaunt Bogba.

"Ahhh! Count Cleon! It's Count Cleon!"

"Cleon the Iron-Faced!"

The Great Pyramid stood behind the city gates. After leaving the docks and walking half a kilometer east along the base of the wall, one would reach Astapor's northern gate.

Beyond the northern gate lay the People's Square—the very place where Unsullied were once trained and rebellious slaves' corpses were hung for punishment. Behind the square was the Palace of the Rising Sun, the Dragon Queen's Great Pyramid.

At that moment, the southern end of the square near the palace was packed with people.

They were tightly gathered, cheering and shouting for Count Cleon of the Shattered Chains.

Yes, Cleon had arrived at the Palace of the Rising Sun ahead of them, and as soon as he stepped out of his carriage, he was surrounded by throngs of citizens who had rushed over upon hearing the news.

"There's a Cleon in Meereen, righteous and loyal, who sees through evil and treachery. When the Harpies came to persecute him, the dragons and the Father stood by his side…"

"With the heavens above his head and a conviction in his heart, not cruel nor bloodthirsty, he fights only to protect freedom!"

Besides the crowd encircling Count Cleon, there were also seven or eight bards performing nearby—playing, singing, and reciting poetry. Through their songs, they recounted how Cleon, unafraid of hardship, uncovered the Meereenese case of the "Anti-Dragon Queen, Anti-Freedom, Anti-People Harpy Group," and how the heroic figure had been wrongfully imprisoned.

In the mouths of singers, poets, and even commoners, Cleon was a man of unwavering integrity, unafraid of death, single-handedly taking on the entire "Anti-Song of Freedom Faction."

He was the great and virtuous one—the protector of freedom in Slaver's Bay, the foremost statesman of the region.

He was a living embodiment of justice!

"Cleon actually has such high prestige?"

The Imp was stunned. His facial muscles twitched, nostrils flaring wide, startling nearby Astapor citizens who stepped back in alarm.

He had seen this expression on others' faces far too often. After losing his nose at the Battle of Blackwater, people either looked at him with disdain, disgust, or fear.

From bitterness and frustration, he gradually became numb, eventually growing used to it.

Now, faced with the crowd's pointing and whispering, Tyrion appeared completely unfazed. He walked up to the leading officer, Donde, and asked curiously:

"That Harpy group—were they Ghiscaris who refused to submit to the Dragon Queen's rule?"

"Of course. Who else but the former slave masters would rebel?" Donde affirmed.

"Then why did the Dragon Queen arrest and suppress Count Cleon, who was quelling the rebellion?" Clinton voiced the very question Tyrion had in mind.

"It wasn't the Queen who arrested him. It was the normal function of the High Court," Donde replied.

Realizing the foreigners didn't quite understand, Donde quickly explained the separation of powers in the Dragon Queen's system—judicial (High Court) and administrative (Guards and Military Police).

He concluded, "Judicial authority lies with the courts. Arrest and search authority lies with the guards. If the suspect is of noble status, a High Court must be convened.

Only then can a Minister of Council lead the military police to investigate and make an arrest.

To ensure the fairness of justice, the Queen may only act in one role during a trial."

"The Code—was it truly written by the Dragon Queen herself?"

Tyrion was fascinated. The legal system laid out in the Code was so standardized that it felt like a revelation.

Donde was clearly displeased by Tyrion's doubt and said stiffly, "What does a mere jester like you know about law?

Any scholar with even a basic understanding of international legal systems would recognize our Code as unique in all the world."

"Even though I haven't seen the full Code, I don't doubt its advancement," Tyrion offered a compliment before asking, "But the Dragon Queen was only sixteen—possibly even younger—when she wrote it. No matter how much of a genius she is, without life experience or knowledge of various regional customs, how could she craft such a comprehensive code?"

"The Queen hatched three dragons at fourteen. At fourteen, she led the tribes across the Red Waste. At fourteen, she liberated Astapor. At fourteen, she vowed to free all of Slaver's Bay, to shatter the slave system and change the world.

Tell me—what ordinary person could accomplish that?" Donde rolled his eyes in irritation.

"Uh…" Tyrion thought for a moment but had no rebuttal.

"Sigh. The Dragon Queen is so wise and powerful—what man could ever be worthy of her?" Tyrion remarked meaningfully, glancing at the silver-haired youth beside him.

Young Griff's face darkened. He lowered his eyes and said nothing.

Clinton, seeing this, felt helpless. He had once hoped the Dragon Queen would possess at least a tenth of Rhaegar's kindness and wisdom, but now…

She's clearly out of his league.

With a sigh, he changed the topic, saying, "If the judicial system is so sound, and Cleon is so just and devoted to the Code, why was he arrested?"

DONG DONG DONG

A squad of Unsullied rushed out of the Great Pyramid, beating bronze gongs to disperse the crowd.

Finally, they formed two lines, creating a corridor through which Cleon and the guards escorting him could enter the hall.

As the crowd parted and Count Cleon's figure vanished through the palace gates, Donde led the fire mage and the others onward once more.

Shaking his head, he sighed as he walked: "It's also Cleon's fault—his personality is too rigid, too impartial. In the Harpy case, he cast too wide a net, and some innocents were caught up in it."

"How many were wrongly accused? How could such a revered count be brought down?" Tyrion asked in astonishment.

"Unclear. But altogether, sixty thousand were imprisoned, and twenty thousand sentenced to death. It's kind of…"

"The Seven Hells!" Tyrion shrieked. His sun-reddened, disfigured face turned pale in an instant. "How many Ghiscaris are there in Meereen to begin with?

I remember in Volantis, the ratio of slaves to freedmen was four to one. Slaver's Bay must be even higher. How many people are there in total in Slaver's Bay?"

"Did Cleon arrest all the Ghiscari?"

"That approach would be simple—guaranteed no villains would escape. But..."

"All of them? Meereen alone has nearly two hundred thousand Ghiscari!" Dond said.

Tyrion looked up at Dond, an odd expression on his face. "Do you people misunderstand what 'impartial justice' means?"

"Earl Cleon strictly follows the Codex, without a trace of personal bias," Dond replied solemnly.

"How come there are so many Ghiscari in Meereen alone?" Clinton asked in surprise.

Dond explained, "After Slaver's Bay was liberated, the old slave trade obviously couldn't continue. So, the Queen restructured the economies of the three cities.

Astapor was developed for manufacturing and heavy industry. Khyzai, formerly the city of bed slaves, was converted into a granary. The Ghiscari who trained bed slaves were relocated to Meereen, which was repurposed for handicrafts and light industry."

Daenerys, being such a kind, righteous, and compassionate queen, obviously couldn't just come out and say: Meereen is the battlefield I've chosen, and I want the disobedient Ghiscari there as cannon fodder.

Of course, she wasn't lying either—optimizing the industrial chain was indeed one of the goals.

"What's heavy industry? And what's light industry?" Tyrion asked curiously.

"Uh, the Queen said any sector that produces means of production is heavy industry, and those that produce consumer goods are light industry."

The customs inspector scratched his head and said with a troubled look, "Don't ask me what 'means of production' and 'consumer goods' are—I don't really get it either.

Anyway, mining, smelting, forging ingots, glassmaking, logging, and shipbuilding all count as heavy industry. As for light industry… well, basically everything except agriculture, I guess. That's easier to understand."

Clinton and the fire mages were completely bewildered, but Tyrion's eyes lit up with excitement and wonder.

"But I see most merchant ships still sail to Astapor. Few go to Meereen," he said.

Dond frowned, thought for a moment, then replied uncertainly, "It seems the industrial layout is not yet complete. No doubt Meereen used to be the most prosperous, home to the largest number of craftsmen and artisans.

But they were all slaves. After their liberation as new freedmen, they were relocated to Astapor.

Now, both heavy and light industries are centered in Astapor. Meereen mainly focuses on cultivating cash crops like olives, soybeans, and peanuts.

Especially olives—Slaver's Bay's olive oil sells worldwide.

Khyzai used to have vast olive groves too, but the slave masters burned them all to ash. Now the land can only be used to grow staple crops like wheat, corn, and turnips."

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!" Tyrion clapped his hands and exclaimed.

"What's brilliant?" Young Griff looked at him like he was crazy.

"Uh..." The imp paused, his ugly face twisting in thought. "I don't exactly know what's so brilliant, but this kind of industrial arrangement has a strange aesthetic—very harmonious."

"Aesthetic?" Now Young Griff was fully convinced he was insane.

"Optimizing the industrial chain can multiply production efficiency," came a slightly youthful female voice from nearby.

Tyrion turned his head and saw a round-faced, flat-nosed little black girl staring at him with wide, golden eyes.

"Ah, it's the city master." Dond immediately walked over to her with respect, bowed, and said, "Your subordinate, Dond Hope, Inspector of the Customs Commodity Department, greets Lady Missandei."

"City master?" Everyone was shocked.

"The city master is a female dwarf?"

Tyrion looked at Missandei and felt an odd sense of kinship.

It seemed the Dragon Queen truly appointed people by merit, not background.

Well, it made sense. If even crooked and monstrous fire mages could earn salaries in the millions, then appointing a dwarf as a city master was perfectly reasonable.

If the Dragon Queen didn't hold his Lannister heritage against him, perhaps—with his intellect—he might even become the Hand of the King someday.

In that fleeting moment, countless thoughts raced through Tyrion's mind.

But in the very next second, Dond slapped the back of his head and scolded, "You think being short like you automatically makes someone a dwarf? Lady Missandei is only eleven!"

(End of Chapter)

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