Tyrion let out a sigh and said, "When I see slaves wailing beneath the lash of their masters, I feel sympathy. But I will not take up
Tyrion let out a sigh and said,"When I see slaves wailing beneath the lash of their masters, I feel sympathy. But I will not take up a blade to kill their masters in the name of freeing them.
This world is filled with oppression and servitude everywhere. Perhaps the names differ, but the essence remains the same.
Take the bonded laborers of Pentos for example. In name, they are free citizens, but for the sake of survival, they must work. They are forced to sign contracts with the wealthy.
Yet their wages are often less than what is needed for food and clothing. They live under their masters' roofs and still pay rent.
Their debts grow day by day, and there is no hope of ever breaking free.
Even in Westeros—You and I both come from great houses, so you should understand. Farmers under their lords are little different from slaves in Essos.
But we have long since grown accustomed to it, haven't we?Nobles leading slaves to overthrow the nobility—it sounds absurd, doesn't it?"
"You mock the queen?"
Clinton had shown no real reaction to Tyrion's long speech earlier—neither agreement nor opposition.
But that last sentence made his hand fall upon the hilt of his sword.
A true knight would charge to his death to defend the honor of his queen!
Old Jon is such a knight, and even now he serves the queen faithfully.
"Hey, no need to get worked up!"
Tyrion waved his hands quickly, explaining,"How would I dare mock the queen? I only meant that I have not the slightest interest in freeing slaves. The wars of Slaver's Bay are not mine to fight.
In fact, they are not ours. Not yours, not mine, not even Prince Aegon's—perhaps not even Prince Quentyn of Dorne's."
Clinton slowly shook his head, speaking solemnly,"Imp, you will never be a true knight."
"Sorry, but I cannot agree with that."
Tyrion tapped his breastplate with pride and said,"I am not only a knight, I am a paladin of honor—a Wyvern Knight."
Old Jon ignored him and continued,"The highest glory of a knight is to follow a great king, to become the sword in his hand, to clear the thorns in his path, to help him realize his vision of justice, and to pursue with him the loftiest radiance of all."
Tyrion sighed."Very well, perhaps I am merely a rider with armor and a mount, not a true knight.
But I am not without honor or decency.
Were it not for the danger to my life, I would gladly stay a few more years in Slaver's Bay. Good food, fine drink, comfortable lodgings, and the chance to witness the queen crush the slave masters with her might—what's not to enjoy?"
"And why is your life in danger?" Clinton asked, puzzled.
Tyrion gave a bitter smile."Serving as General of the Wildfire is already like walking a tightrope on a cliff's edge. Becoming a Wyvern Knight is like dancing upon the point of a dagger.
Yesterday the allies brought thirty wyverns. Tomorrow, another thirty may come. When that happens, I, as a Wyvern Knight, must face them.
And besides, the queen intends to send me across the continent of Sothoryos to search for wyvern clans.
You know the mortality rate of those who set foot on that land, don't you?I do not wish to die.
Once, when I had nothing to lose, death meant little to me.
But now that I have achieved my dream and become a Dragon Knight, I no longer wish to throw my life away.
So I want to leave Slaver's Bay as soon as possible, without angering or betraying the queen.
You yourself just said you serve the Targaryens.
If I serve Prince Aegon, that does not break my oath. The queen may forgive me for that. She has no shortage of brilliant followers—she does not need one ugly, noseless dwarf like me."
To Jon Clinton, Tyrion spoke the truth.
"You are beyond saving. No sense of honor at all, despite how highly the queen esteems you," Clinton said with scornful eyes.
"If it were you, would you go? A ninety-percent infection rate, a fifty-percent death rate—how is that different from a death sentence?" Tyrion snapped.
"I would go. I will go!" Clinton replied firmly.
"You need not play tricks. Soon, I will go to the queen myself and volunteer. Let me take your place and search the jungles for wyvern nests!"
Tyrion stood stunned for a long moment, then sighed."You're right. We are not of the same kind."
"We never were," Clinton sneered coldly before turning and leaving.
Beyond the crematorium wall, in the courtyard, six wyverns lay crouched side by side. Opposite them, pitiful little Green appeared miserably frail.
In the center lay three stretchers, upon which rested the shattered souls of three skinchangers.
Outside the city, more than ten thousand corpses and twenty-three wyverns were burned. Their spirit essence fell like a heavenly waterfall into little Green's body.
His cracked scales, torn wounds, and shredded wings healed slowly but with steadfast certainty.
Beta-type active spirit essence could enhance the vitality of flesh and cells, but when it came to healing, it lacked the instant effect of true Holy Light.
Dany wished she could infuse it with the power of faith, to transform it into "Restoration" or even "Greater Resurrection."
But for now, that was beyond her reach. She had to make do.
When the rain of essence began to dwindle, Dany split it in two. Through the contract sigils, she directed the Beta-type essence into the six wyverns, while she absorbed the Alpha-type will essence herself.
Of the remainder, Drogon took seventy percent, Viserion twenty, and Rhaegal ten.
Rhaenys had not followed.
For now, Viserion could not absorb divinity, so his strength would remain the same. Better to let Drogon continue to grow stronger.
If Drogon could surpass Balerion, it would not matter if Viserion and Rhaegal lagged behind.
Better to raise one unmatched champion than a flock of mediocrities.
The Alpha-type will essence proved especially effective in strengthening the soul's resilience, though Dany could only absorb so much before reaching her limit.
Soon, her soul became saturated.
So she and White's dragon spirit entered the mindscape of the Faceless One, Morona.
There was no resistance. It was like a breeze drifting into a courtyard whose walls had collapsed and gates had fallen.
Morona was in even worse shape than the spearwife who had once been possessed by a six-formed being.
That woman's soul had shattered like a crystal splintered into countless shards.
Morona's soul, however, was like a house consumed by fire, leaving only charred ruins.
Had Dany not sustained them since yesterday with spirit essence, the three skinchangers' bodies would already have begun to rot.
Today, she granted them pure Alpha-type will essence.
Recognizing the immense value of skinchangers in war for gathering intelligence, Dany naturally sought to bind these three to her service.
She had no intention of twisting their wills, only ensuring their loyalty.
If they were ordinary skinchangers, she would not have bothered with such measures. Their strength was not irreplaceable. But with the Alpha-type will essence bound to them, only then could she employ "Dany's Whispers" upon them.
But she planned to give the three of them a chance.
After repairing their soul seas with the Soul Empowerment Technique, she could continue to empower them in the future, strengthening their souls with spirit essence, just as Dany had enhanced the strength of her own soul.
An ordinary person's mental barrier was like a fortress, blocking the intrusion of external mental force. This was the soul's natural self-defense.
However, the soul spaces of the three skinchangers had been repaired by Dany. It was as if she had rebuilt a house that had burned down, complete with walls and gates.
Since she was the one who built the castle, of course she could enter at any time, even silently placing something inside, such as Type-A Will Essence.
With this, these three otherwise ordinary skinchangers might surpass even the six-skinchanger Varamyr.
She had to keep them firmly under her control.
"Hmm? It's only been a few hours, but the holes in Tessa's wings seem to have healed quite a bit!"
By evening, the massive pyres outside the city were nearly extinguished. Tyrion and Clinton arrived together.
Touching the pink scars on the dragon's wings, Tyrion was both shocked and amazed.
"Look at Little Green. This morning, there were still two wounds on his leg big enough to fit a thumb through, and now they're completely healed. How did this happen?" Clinton pointed to the other dragon, Little Green.
"Blood sorcery," Dany said calmly.
Tyrion recalled that she had mentioned using blood sorcery to heal the dragons' injuries that morning and said in sudden realization, "I didn't expect blood sorcery to be this powerful. When will they be able to fly again?"
"In a few days. When we withdraw, they'll naturally be able to fly," Dany replied.
At this point, only a thousand Unsullied and Garth's second fleet remained in Tolos.
Dany had stayed behind for three reasons.
The first, and most important, was to cover the retreat.
More than fifteen hundred cargo ships were transporting nearly a hundred thousand captives and newly freed people, along with hundreds of thousands of tons of supplies, filling the sea almost entirely.
If no one stayed behind in Tolos to hold the line, a sudden surprise attack by the coalition would be even worse than "Japan's attack on Pearl Harbor."
Second, Dany could not simply abandon the corpses of over ten thousand dead mercenaries.
Finally, the dragons, including Little Green, had suffered serious injuries and could not yet fly.
Noticing Clinton hesitating several times as if he had something to say, Dany guessed his intent and asked directly, "What brings you two here?"
Before Clinton could speak, Tyrion said, "Your Grace, Ser Clinton also wishes to become a dragonrider. He is willing to serve as your 'Steward Scholar' and go to the rainforests of Sothoryos in search of a dragon's nest.
Your Grace, it's not that I fear death.
It's simply that Ser Clinton is a master swordsman, strong and experienced, with years of mercenary life behind him. His chances of survival are far higher.
Let carpenters do carpentry, farmers till the land, and warriors fight on the battlefield. That is the most reasonable arrangement."
Clinton frowned at the dwarf, then nodded and said, "Your Grace, I am willing to give my life for you."
"This…" Dany felt troubled.
Though her version of the contract seal had unique functions that surpassed Balerion's original blood magic, its foundations had not changed.
It still required either bloodline or faith: relatively pure Valyrian blood, or devotion to Balerion.
Well, not necessarily faith in Balerion. Whoever subdued a dragon, the dragonrider had to give their faith to that one.
For example, since Jon Clinton had no Targaryen blood, if he wanted to become a dragonrider, he could only pledge faith to Black, establishing a channel of belief with him.
It was similar to witches sacrificing blood to evil gods: the witch provided blood, and the god lent her power in return.
Or like the Red God's priests. The Red Priests obviously could not resurrect the dead with their own strength—their magic came from their god, R'hllor.
R'hllor had a channel of faith with his priests and could bestow power upon them.
"This matter is rather complicated." Facing Clinton's look of noble sacrifice, Dany felt a bit helpless.
"What's complicated? Isn't it just blood sorcery?" Tyrion asked hastily.
Your Grace, you wouldn't insist on killing me, would you?What did I ever do to offend you?
"Blood sorcery is one part of it, but faith is another."
Dany shot the dwarf a glare: I'll deal with you sooner or later.Then she turned to Clinton and asked, "Ser, what is your faith?"
"Of course, the Seven!" Clinton answered without hesitation.
You, a man secretly pining for Rhaegar, dare to claim faith in the Seven?
Dany muttered inwardly.
"The Faith of the Seven in the Riverlands, you—"
Suddenly, Dany froze as Black forcibly pulled her into the dragon-soul state. Her consciousness plunged into a white light and, in an instant, crossed thousands of miles.
When the light faded, she saw the High Sparrow devoutly praying.
*(ps: Regarding whether the Faith of the Seven forbids homosexuality, some readers say the books never explicitly mention it.
That's true.
Author Martin has a more open attitude; he does not oppose homosexuality.
However, in the Game of Thrones TV series, the High Sparrow arrests Ser Loras Tyrell explicitly on charges of homosexuality.
So, did the show contradict the books?
Personally, I don't think so.
Much in the books is a reflection of our real-world Earth. The Seven are roughly equivalent to Christianity, Protestantism in particular. Christianity's tolerance for homosexuality is virtually zero.
So here, I'm following the show's interpretation.)*
(End of Chapter)
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