Yunkai's gray stone walls loomed like a dormant beast in the morning mist, with trebuchets densely arrayed on the battlements, their dark maws pointed at the world outside the city. The Second Sons mercenaries leaned on their spears, and the snake tattoos on their black leather armor gleamed coldly in the dim light. Daenerys reined in Silver Wind, while Drogon circled above her head, his dragon eyes fixed on the purple banner fluttering from the highest point of the city walls—a symbol of the Wise Masters of Yunkai, with its embroidered chain pattern looking particularly glaring in the wind.
"Daario hasn't made a move yet," Kohol's voice was wary, his hand resting on the scimitar at his waist. "By agreement, he should have created a diversion at the East Gate with the Second Sons, but now there's not even a shadow of a person to be seen."
Illyrio raised his telescope, and indeed, the East Gate remained silent, with only a few guards pacing back and forth. His heart sank—Daario was, after all, a mercenary, and the Wise Masters might have bought him off with more gold. "Wait a little longer," he lowered his telescope, his fingertip tracing the dragon-patterned ring on his waist. "If he still hasn't acted before sunrise, we'll proceed with the backup plan."
The core of the backup plan was for Rhaegal and Viserys to launch an aerial assault on the trebuchet positions, with the Unsullied forming a shield wall for a frontal advance, while Illyrio led the Blood Riders to infiltrate through the western waterway and open the South Gate. At this moment, Grey Worm had divided the eight thousand Unsullied into three teams: the first team carried double-layered oxhide shields coated with fire-resistant grease; the second team wielded improved spears with gleaming tips; and the third team carried wicker baskets filled with fire pots, awaiting orders.
Just as the sun peeked over the horizon, a commotion suddenly erupted from the city walls. Illyrio looked up and saw the guards at the East Gate suddenly fall into a panic. A dozen or so Second Sons mercenaries brandished their scimitars, striking down the Yunkai soldiers around them—it was Daario! He had not betrayed them after all.
"Attack!" Daenerys's silver whistle pierced the sky.
Rhaegal was the first to soar into the sky, his ice-blue dragonflame cascading like a waterfall onto the trebuchet positions on the north side. The wooden trebuchets were instantly frozen, and the screams of the guards mingled with the sound of cracking ice. Viserys followed close behind, his crimson flames licking at the arrow towers on the south side, causing the archers on them to fall like broken kites.
"Charge!" Grey Worm's roar was deafening. The first team of Unsullied surged towards the city walls like a tide, their double-layered shield wall firmly blocking the rain of arrows from above. The spears of the second team extended through the gaps in the shields, precisely piercing the ankles of the guards and dragging them down from the wall. The third team hurled fire pots at the city gate, and flames quickly engulfed the heavy wooden gate, sending thick smoke billowing upwards.
Illyrio seized the opportunity to lead ten Blood Riders around to the western waterway entrance. The waterway entrance was blocked by a huge rock inscribed with Yunkai characters, roughly meaning "Tomb of Slaves." "Use explosives," Illyrio moved a clay pot from the supply cart—this was a simple explosive he had made from a mixture of saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal, knowledge he had learned from a chemistry textbook during his transmigration.
The Blood Riders stuffed the explosives into the cracks between the boulder and the rock wall and lit the fuse. With a loud bang, the boulder shattered, and a pungent, musty smell emanated from within the waterway. Illyrio, holding a torch, was the first to enter. The waterway was narrow and damp, and on the rock walls on both sides, one could still see scratches left by slaves—some were names, others simple sun patterns—their yearning for freedom.
"Light ahead!" The Blood Rider at the back suddenly shouted.
Illyrio quickened his pace, turned a corner, and indeed saw a faint light ahead. He extinguished his torch and quietly approached. Through the grate at the waterway's mouth, he saw only a dozen guards inside the South Gate, looking anxiously towards the East Gate—Daario's diversion had successfully attracted their attention.
"Now!" Illyrio drew his dagger, and the Blood Riders quickly scaled the grate, covering the guards' mouths, their daggers precisely piercing their throats. Without a sound, the inside of the South Gate was secured. Illyrio pulled back the bolt of the city gate and gave a signal to the outside—three short whistles followed by one long one.
Outside the city, Daenerys saw the signal and immediately commanded the Dothraki Riders to charge towards the South Gate. Kohol led the vanguard, his scimitar cleaving through the last few guards, and met Illyrio inside the city gate. "What's the situation inside?" Kohol asked, panting.
"The Wise Masters are all hiding in the fortress in the central plaza," Illyrio wiped the sweat from his face. "The slaves are locked in cages in the west of the city; we need to free them as soon as possible."
Just then, a familiar dragon roar echoed from afar. Illyrio and Daenerys exchanged glances, both seeing worry in each other's eyes—it was Drogon! They quickly ascended the city wall and saw Drogon entangled with a giant war elephant. Seated on the elephant's back was Rhaezalin, Yunkai's wealthiest Wise Master (he hadn't died after all, but was hiding in the city, commanding). The war elephant's long trunk wrapped around a huge rock and hurled it at Drogon. The black dragon hastily dodged, his wing grazed by the rock, scattering a few scales.
"Rhaezalin fed slaves to the war elephant, making it exceptionally fierce," Daario's voice suddenly came. He rode in from the East Gate, his black leather armor stained with blood. "The Wise Masters have driven all the slaves to the central plaza, saying they want to die with us."
Daenerys's eyes instantly turned cold. She raised her hand and blew her silver whistle. Drogon immediately understood, abandoned his struggle with the war elephant, and swooped down, his dragonflame heading straight for the war elephant's eyes. The war elephant cried out in pain, spinning wildly in place, its long trunk flailing erratically, accidentally throwing Rhaezalin off its back. Daario seized the opportunity, charged forward on his horse, and with a swing of his scimitar, Rhaezalin's head rolled to the ground.
"To the central plaza!" Daenerys turned her horse, and Silver Wind shot into the city like an arrow from a bowstring.
In the central plaza, hundreds of slaves were chained together, surrounded by dozens of guards holding spears. The Wise Masters stood on the steps of the fortress; the leader, a tall, thin man, held a burning torch and threatened, "Take one more step, and I'll burn all these slaves to death!"
Though terrified, the slaves did not cry out for mercy as the Wise Masters had expected. A young slave suddenly broke free from a loosened chain, shouting, "For freedom!" and charged at a nearby guard. His roar was like a spark, igniting the courage of all the slaves. More and more slaves began to resist, biting with their teeth, striking with their fists, refusing to stop even when covered in wounds.
"These Wise Masters even miscalculated the slaves' hatred," Illyrio stood beside Daenerys, watching the chaos in the plaza. "They thought slaves would only feel fear, but they forgot the power that people pushed to their limits can unleash."
Daenerys nodded, raising her hand to signal Drogon not to breathe fire—she didn't want to harm the slaves. Grey Worm immediately led the Unsullied into the plaza, their spears precisely piercing the guards but deliberately avoiding the slaves. Daario led the Second Sons around to the back of the fortress, blocking the Wise Masters' retreat.
The battle ended quickly. The Wise Masters were either beaten to death by the slaves or captured by the Unsullied; not a single one escaped. When Illyrio unchained the last slave, the young slave suddenly knelt before him and kowtowed three times: "Thank you, Liberator!"
"Don't thank me," Illyrio helped him up, pointing towards Daenerys. "The one to thank is her—it is she who brought dragonflame, and she who brought freedom."
Daenerys stood in the center of the plaza, Drogon landed beside her, and Rhaegal and Viserys perched on the fortress roof. The slaves gathered around, kneeling on the ground, shouting, "Mother of Dragons! Queen of freedom!" The sound was deafening, making even the distant city walls tremble slightly.
Missandei pushed through the crowd and rushed to the cages on the west side of the plaza—where her brother was imprisoned. The boy saw her and immediately rushed over; the siblings embraced tightly, tears soaking each other's clothes. "I knew you would come to save me," the boy choked out. "I heard other slaves say that a queen who rides dragons would come to free us, and I knew it was the one you spoke of."
Illyrio watched this heartwarming scene, a warm current flowing through him. He walked to Daenerys's side and whispered, "We did it, Yunkai is free."
"But this is not enough," Daenerys's gaze looked into the distance. "The Great Masters of Meereen are still oppressing slaves, and the Lannisters of Westeros are still enjoying their ill-gotten gains. Our journey is far from over."
That night, roaring bonfires burned in Yunkai's plaza. The slaves sang and danced, sharing food and wine found from the Wise Masters' estates. Daario and the Second Sons mercenaries also joined the celebration, raising their wine bowls and shouting, "For freedom! For Daenerys!"
Illyrio sat by the bonfire, watching Daenerys surrounded by the slaves, her golden hair gleaming in the firelight, Drogon lying at her feet like a docile large dog. Kohol walked over and handed Illyrio a bowl of fermented mare's milk: "Tomorrow, are we going to Meereen?"
"Probably," Illyrio took the wine bowl and took a sip. "Jhaqo's letter says that the Great Masters of Meereen have allied with other city-states to form the 'Slaver's Bay Alliance,' and they won't stand by and watch us free more slaves."
Daario also walked over, his face showing less cynicism and more seriousness: "The Second Sons are willing to follow you to Meereen." He paused, then added, "Not for gold, but for the freedom you speak of—I've seen too much suffering among slaves, and now I understand that some things are more important than gold."
Illyrio looked at Daario and suddenly felt that this mercenary was not entirely cold-blooded. He raised his wine bowl: "For freedom."
"For freedom!" Kohol and Daario raised their cups simultaneously, and the three wine bowls clinked in the air, making a crisp sound.
As night deepened, the bonfires gradually dwindled. Daenerys walked to Illyrio's side, looking up at the starry sky: "Illyrio, do you think we can return to Westeros? Can we reclaim everything that belongs to the Targaryens?"
"Yes," Illyrio replied firmly. "We have dragons, loyal warriors, and people who yearn for freedom. As long as we don't give up, we will surely succeed."
Daenerys nodded, leaned against Silver Wind's neck, and closed her eyes. Drogon gently nudged her arm, letting out a contented purr. Below the distant city walls, the slaves' melodious singing drifted up—a song about freedom, its sound passing through Yunkai's night sky, floating into the distance, as if proclaiming to the world: the flame of freedom will never be extinguished.
The next morning, Yunkai's city gates slowly opened. Daenerys's army set out again, this time with thousands more slaves from Yunkai in their ranks. They carried weapons found in the Wise Masters' estates, their eyes firm as they followed behind the Unsullied. Illyrio rode his horse beside Daenerys, watching the ever-growing army, his heart filled with hope