After inaugurating the two new business establishments, Jon returned back to his manor. Not many changes had been made to the manor itself.
Though it was undoubtedly lavish, it was not much to Jon's liking. Even so, he did not order any alterations, as he would not be staying long in Astapor.
This was merely a base for him to begin his operations, and once he consolidated his power, he planned to continue with his conquests.
Jon was sitting in the courtyard under the shade of a tree and was enjoying some snacks. Slyvia was sitting beside him on a nearby seat.
Further out in the open space of the courtyard, Jelerion was sparring with two Unsullied. Against a single Unsullied, Jelerion might have gained some advantage, but faced with two opponents, she was at a significant disadvantage.
She wielded a small, thin sword suited to her size, while the Unsullied carried their trademark spears. Since it was only a sparring match, the Unsullied held back slightly, allowing Jelerion to hone her skills.
Jelerion was a natural swordswoman. In mere months, she had progressed enough to hold her own against elite soldiers, and Jon had been surprised to see it.
At one point, he had considered giving her the second drop of blood essence, but had decided to wait. He had been hasty with Slyvia, but now he wanted to be patient. He intended to see if he could find others who were equally or even more talented.
His eyes remained fixed on Jelerion as she moved swiftly and gracefully, the sword flashing in her hands.
"She is a remarkable warrior," Slyvia remarked from the side.
"Aye, that she is," Jon nodded, his gaze still locked on Jelerion.
Jon's internal musings were disrupted when Jelerion ended her spar. The Unsullied gave a courteous bow and walked away, while Jelerion picked up a fine piece of fabric to wipe the sweat from her body.
She came to stand before Jon. "My lord."
"You are improving greatly," Jon said with a smile. A wide grin spread across her face at the compliment.
.
.
.
The sound of rhythmic footsteps echoed in the courtyard, drawing Jon's attention. He turned to see Freydron, the commander of his army, approaching.
But Jon's eyes remained fixed on the young man behind Freydron. The boy looked to be around sixteen or seventeen.
Even with the youth still clear on his face, it took Jon only a moment to recognize him. Grey Worm.
The commander reached Jon and bent ninety degrees in greeting. "My lord."
Jon nodded at him, then turned toward Grey Worm, who was already kneeling.
"Get up," Jon commanded, and Grey Worm did as told.
"My lord," Freydron said, with a flicker of hesitation on his face, "this is Grey Worm. He believes his slave name is a source of pride, as it is the name he bore when you granted him freedom."
"He considers his birth name a curse, tied to when he was made a slave," Freydron explained. "So, he wishes to keep it."
Jon nodded in acknowledgment. He had no opinion on this matter.
"My lord," Freydron continued, hesitation again crossing his features, "he was one of the trainees set to join the Unsullied ranks in a year or two."
"I personally vouch for him," Freydron added after a deep breath, now with firm resolve. "He is a great warrior in the making, and his loyalty is beyond question."
Jon remained silent but gave a nod for him to go on. He could see Grey Worm tightening his jaw, eager to prove Freydron's words.
"My lord," Freydron continued further, dropping to one knee as if to make a formal request, "I would recommend this young man to serve as commander of the Supreme Shadows."
Jon's expression did not change, but Slyvia's eyes widened in shock. The Supreme Shadows were the elite among elites, the best of the best.
Each member had been personally selected by Freydron and every one of them was an exceptional warrior.
In the past three months, though they had performed their duties, no commander had yet been appointed.
To lead them was a tremendous task, a great responsibility, and an even greater privilege. One needed to be truly exceptional.
Freydron's recommendation of a young man nearly shocked Slyvia.
Freydron pressed on almost pleading.
"My lord, this may sound far-fetched, but I assure you, he is the best we have," he said. "He will not disappoint you. He is destined to be one of the greatest warriors."
"Is he really as good as you claim?" Slyvia muttered, a frown on her face.
Jon smiled faintly. He already knew Grey Worm was truly capable. A fine warrior and a promising commander. And loyal to core.
Before Freydron could answer, Jon said, "If he can satisfy Slyvia in a duel, he can take the position."
Grey Worm's eyes widened in surprise before an expression of deep resolve settled over his face.
Before coming here, he had held little hope of being appointed commander of the Supreme Shadows. He came only because Freydron had convinced him. But now, the golden opportunity lay right before him.
Even so, he knew this would not be an easy duel. Many people had told him the lady was a formidable warrior, unbeaten by any of the Unsullied.
Whether that was true or not, he was determined to seize this chance.
Slyvia had no objections. She walked to the centre of the courtyard, with Grey Worm following behind, carrying his spear.
Slyvia drew her sword and faced Grey Worm, her expression impassive. They stared at each other, waiting for the first move.
Grey Worm lost patience first. He took two quick strides forward and thrust his spear at Slyvia's shoulder.
Slyvia tilted just enough for the spear to miss her by inches, then instantly stepped forward to close the distance so her sword could reach him.
She slashed down vertically, and Grey Worm barely managed to bring his spear up in time to block.
So began a graceful, rhythmic dance between two skilled fighters. The constant clash of metal rang through the courtyard.
Against a well-trained opponent, a spear generally held an advantage over a sword due to its reach. Naturally, Grey Worm tried to maintain distance far enough for his spear to strike, but too far for Slyvia's sword.
Even so, it was clear to both Freydron and Jon that Slyvia held the complete advantage and that was even while holding back.
Grey Worm was relentless and aggressive. His thrusts and sweeps were forceful, while Slyvia seemed almost casual, remaining largely on the defensive and letting Grey Worm display his full skill.
But soon, frustration crept into Grey Worm's movements, and he began to lose his composure.
At last satisfied, Slyvia made her move. In a swift manoeuvre, she evaded the spear and closed the gap, pressing her sword against Grey Worm's neck.
"You lose," she said. Grey Worm gritted his teeth, feeling his dreams shatter.
Slyvia ignored his pained expression and turned to Jon.
"He is definitely a fine warrior," she admitted.
Jon nodded. To defeat Slyvia in single combat was an impossible dream for Grey Worm.
Perhaps only the greatest knights, the likes of Barristan Selmy, Arthur Dayne, or Jaime Lannister might stand a chance against the current Slyvia.
She was still improving, and in a few more months, defeating her would be nearly unthinkable. That was the power of Jon's blood essence.
He was satisfied. Grey Worm was indeed the best of the best.
Hearing Slyvia's words, an almost disbelieving look crossed Grey Worm's face. Could this mean he had satisfied her after all? The condition had only been to satisfy her, not to defeat her.
"Grey Worm," Jon said, standing up, "today, I, Aeos, declare you commander of the Supreme Shadows."
Grey Worm immediately fell to his knees, his heart swelling with happiness and gratitude.
"I trust you will fulfil your responsibilities well," Jon said.
"Yes, my lord," Grey Worm's firm voice boomed. "I pledge to serve you faithfully forever."
"Stand up, Commander Grey Worm," Jon chuckled.
Grey Worm stood, his face bright with pride, and bowed ninety degrees in salute.
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