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The sea near Volantis was very calm, with only the slow, steady beat of drums and the soft rowing of wooden oars to be heard.
Morroq stood on the deck, watching Viserys ride the dragon as it chased clouds in the azure sky, feeling an irrepressible tremor in his soul.
Sunfyre was a magnificent and fierce dragon, not at all like the sickly, half-dead descriptions of the last dragons in legends.
A change unseen in a century; since the disappearance of the last dragons, not even a single scale or claw of a dragon had been seen.
The attempts by Targaryen kings to hatch dragons had all become laughingstocks.
Aegon the Dragonbane invited wizards who couldn't hatch eggs, while The Unworthy King and Aegon the Lustful King created wooden and iron dragons, the latter of which exploded while crossing the Kingswood.
As for Summerhall, the attempt by Aegon the Unlikely turned into a tragedy and a nightmare, claiming the lives of the King and many Targaryen kin.
And now, a True Dragon has returned.
Viserys felt Sunfyre's roar with great excitement as it circled in the sky, flying higher and higher, as if to compete with the heavens.
In the Valyrian Ruins, Sunfyre had never soared so freely.
Within the ecosystem of the Valyrian wasteland, Sunfyre had to tread as if on thin ice; besides the pollution and occasional volcanic eruptions, there were various fierce magical creatures.
Not to mention Blood Lions and Three-headed Eagles, even the hundred-meter-long ancient Firewyrms were not something it could provoke.
The dragon preferred to attack from the sky, as Viserys had already sensed.
When they climbed between their opponent and the sun, they would fold their wings and dive down with a shriek.
Upon reaching the sea surface, Sunfyre would immediately pull away, screaming and rising again, its wings fanning away the steaming seawater.
A flying fish emerged from the sea, only to be instantly enveloped in a blast of fire; Sunfyre enjoyed the flying fish.
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Legends say there are Krakens in the sea that dragons can eat, but those things rarely appear; Krakens are bloodthirsty and greedy, yet they are deep-sea animals.
Viserys's concern about the insufficient Fire Element in the outer world now seemed acceptable.
Although the Fire Element was not as strong as in Valyria, the ultimate source of fire, it was not non-existent.
Viserys speculated that since the Year of the False Spring, or perhaps even earlier starting with the tragedy at Summerhall, magic had been slowly rising.
The point of this recovery reaching its tidal peak was marked by the Red Comet and the rebirth of dragons.
Dragons are hatched with blood; the arrival of dragons is the sign of magic's return, bringing the tide to its zenith.
'Rhaegar might have made the wrong deductions; those prophecies cost him his life,' Viserys thought, as many in their family were obsessed with dragon dreams.
Brightflame even opened a jar of wildfire and drank it, attempting to turn into a dragon through fire.
Rhaegar believed his prophecies would restore the dynasty based on ancient Valyrian scrolls or dragon dreams, only to be fooled by fate again and suffer a cruel defeat.
'Oneself, not the prophecy.'
When he felt the wind blowing again, Viserys and Sunfyre returned to the ship.
The dragon's body coiled into a mass, like a great serpent wound together.
"Have you thought of your names?" Viserys asked the Unsullied.
Viserys allowed the Unsullied to choose good names for themselves as a reward for the hardships they had shared.
Originally, the Unsullied were given a new name every day, a method used by slave masters to erase their individual identity.
And those Unsullied bought by Governors and wealthy merchants might only have a number or a nickname.
Now Viserys allowed them, as free men and heroes of the adventure, to mostly use their birth names—at least for those who still remembered them.
Others called themselves by the names of heroes and gods, and sometimes by weapons, gems, or even flowers, which sounded quite peculiar.
The young Qartheen Unsullied chosen as the leader of the ten Unsullied said his name was Bloodworm.
Viserys asked Bloodworm for the reason.
Bloodworm answered respectfully, "Because it is an honor. This servant had long forgotten his past name, and his birth name was cursed, which is why I was forced into slavery. Bloodworm was the creature this servant saw on the day he was liberated by the True Dragon, Viserys."
Bloodworm had short, rust-colored hair and no hair on his face. He had a grim expression, a determined look, and a sturdy build, being tall and broad-waisted.
He was young, about twenty years old, but his strength and courage were collectively admired by the Unsullied.
There was also an older Pentoshi Unsullied named Fireworm, who served as Bloodworm's deputy.
Viserys was satisfied; although there were only ten of these Unsullied, they were fiercely loyal to him.
While Viserys was resting on the deck, the ship they had sent to Volantis for supplies returned.
The supply ship that had quickly returned from the harbor brought back cooked meat, Volantene sweet wine, oranges, and various other foods.
Volantis is most famous for its sweet red wine; Volantenes cannot live without beets.
Beets are grown on a large scale in Volantis and are added to almost every dish.
Viserys took a few sips of the sweet red wine and stopped; the taste was far too cloying. He surmised Volantis must have many people with bad teeth and diabetes.
The supply ship also brought new news, which the captain had already fully relayed to Morroq.
"Khal Drogo's khalasar once appeared in the town of Selhorys. He now has thirty thousand warriors under his command. Drogo left after accepting gifts from the Volantenes," Morroq reported to Viserys. "It seems Khal Drogo intends to cross the Rhoyne River."
Khal Drogo's purpose in crossing the river was self-evident; Pentos would have to pay, and the newborn Kingdom of the Land of Andas would also face a massive threat.
"I once thought he was a wise Khal; now it seems greed has overcome reason," Morroq remarked.
"That is the rule of the dothraki; they only bow to blood and fire." Viserys raised his head and tossed a piece of cooked meat, which Sunfyre swallowed after blasting it with gold-red flames.
"Are you afraid, Morroq?" Viserys asked.
"I am not afraid, Your Majesty." Morroq shook his head. "The True Dragon will lead us to victory."
"I don't care about any Khal; just kill them all," the gruff Argos said in a booming voice.
If the Andals had to kneel to the dothraki after uniting, then this country would have been established in vain.
Viserys seemed to smell the scent of blood in the wind; a brutal war was approaching.
This war was also unavoidable, like two storms erupting on the vast continent that were bound to collide sooner or later.
The Dothraki utterly loathed cities and towns, and the fact that the Andals and Rhoynar were attached to the White City, Viserysburg, caused them to lose many territories they could plunder.
The Khals all wanted to become The Stallion Who Mounts the World, and Viserys would never agree to the Dothraki's wanton expansion.
Viserys had a heavy task and had to focus his energy on military matters.
"It's not just Khal Drogo who wants to act; there's also the instigation of others," Viserys speculated.
Trade and population brought huge profits. After the establishment of Andalos, it was normal for those slave traders whose interests were harmed to incite the Dothraki to attack.
The slave lords of Tyrosh were the most bellicose; they were surely the most enthusiastic. The remaining Lysene and Volantene slave lords would also not forget the matter of runaway slaves fleeing to Andalos.
For this war, Viserys had also been preparing for a long time.
The contest between the Dragon King Viserys and the Khal Drogo, the two young kings of the continent of Essos... On the endless Dothraki Sea, the tall and burly Khal Drogo was leading his tribe westward.
Bloodriders guarded the Khal, while the horses cast long shadows across the undulating green grassland.
During the journey, the male warriors used animal fat from oil pits to make their long braids black and shiny.
They also feasted on roasted horse meat with honey and pepper, and drank fermented mare's milk.
In fact, Drogo had seen the Free Cities before, having visited them for food and pleasure. When the Khal visited the Free Cities, he would also wear fine clothes and spray perfume.
However, under the open sky, the Dothraki all followed ancient traditions.
Regardless of gender, they were bare-chested, wearing painted leather vests, horsehair leggings, and bronze medallions around their waists.
Only the Khal would wear a noble golden belt, covered with emblems.
The only discordant element in the procession was a few green-bearded Tyroshi merchants.
Although Tyrosh was located on an island and could relatively afford not to give face to the Khal,
they had a slave trade between them, and their relationship was quite good.
"Does the capital of that Kingdom of Andas truly possess untold wealth?" Drogo asked curiously.
"It is absolutely true," the Tyroshi said in a flamboyant tone. "The Andals and Rhoynar were once wealthy peoples. Although they have fallen on hard times now, they still possess much wealth, all gathered within the White City.
Furthermore, the Andals and Rhoynar are beautiful and well-proportioned, fetching high prices in the slave markets. You can even sell them directly to us Tyroshi; our gifts will satisfy the Khal."
"I have already received the gifts from your Archon," Drogo nodded. "All who hear my name express their goodwill, yet the King of the Land of Andas remains indifferent. And that White City..."
Although the Dothraki did not assault major cities, protection money was a major source of their income, along with the luxurious gifts and spices sent by various city-states.
That newly established White City was itself an insult to the Dothraki.
"You are right, Khal," the Tyroshi merchant nodded flatteringly.
Khal Drogo then asked the Tyroshi, "Are there also noble and beautiful maidens in the White City?"
The Tyroshi merchant stroked his oiled beard, wondering how this barbarian knew such news.
The Archon of Tyrosh had originally wanted to take those high-born Targaryen descendants for himself, but now that was impossible.
"There is a large population there; there are surely beautiful girls. The most noble are the sister and niece of the pretender king; they also have the blood of the ancient True Dragon, and the appearance of a True Dragon is often breathtakingly beautiful," the Tyroshi merchants said cautiously.
"The old women of the Dosh Khaleen have said my son will be The Stallion Who Mounts the World," Drogo calculated in his heart. "I shall go eastward; the prince's mother is in the east, a descendant of ancient gods. I shall have a great son, The Stallion Who Mounts the World."
Drogo felt that the old women's prophecy might just be realized in the White City.
Drogo did not lack women, but he lacked beautiful women who could be his consort.
She had to be of noble status to give birth to The Stallion Who Mounts the World.
The crones had once prophesied to him: "His horse will be as swift as the wind, and the khalasar behind him will cover the entire earth, beyond counting. The Arakh in their hands will be as sharp as needlegrass. The prince will be as fierce as a storm; his enemies will tremble before him, and their wives will weep tears of blood and be consumed by grief. The bells in his hair will sing of his coming, and the Milksops living in stone tents will fear his name. The prince rides, and he shall be The Stallion Who Mounts the World!"
Drogo brandished his Arakh and then shouted loudly: "The earth is our mother goddess; it is a sin to cut the earth with plows, shovels, and axes. The Andalos have already defiled Mother Earth; what should we do?"
"Destroy Andalos!"
"Destroy Andalos!" The dothraki let out an angry roar that seemed to cover the entire vault of heaven.
Drogo nodded with great satisfaction; he burned, killed, and plundered across the grasslands, using both force and diplomacy.
Today's Drogo had killed all of his father's kos.
With thirty thousand Screamers under his command, he was clearly the greatest power on the dothraki Sea.
Wherever he went, the Governors of the Free Cities offered gifts and slaves.
But Drogo's ambitions did not stop there; his appetite was astonishingly large. He wanted to destroy Andalos so that the Khal's tribe could look upon the sea at will.
Khal Drogo brandished his blade again and roared loudly: "I will lead my tribe west to the Poison Water at the end of the world, achieving the great deeds that no other Khal has finished. I will kill the men in iron clothes, tear down their stone houses, rape their women, take their children as slaves, and bring their useless gods back to Vaes Dothrak to bow before the Mother of Mountains. I, Drogo, son of Bharbo, swear it here!"
"Exterminate Andalos!"
"Exterminate Andalos!"
Under the open sky, the Dothraki let out a loud roar.